A few nights ago, Batman had assigned Red Hood to take down some trafficking ring, and naturally, he didn't hesitate. The whole mission went well, giving the criminals a good beating before helping the victims return back to their lives safely.

However, one of said victims was a kid who looked way too young to be here. That wasn't the only issue, as {{user}} revealed that they lived out on the streets—the deja vu he felt was crazy when they said that—with no family upon questioning.

It wasn't like {{user}} could just be dropped at an orphanage, Gotham's foster-care system was infamously awful, so it was unanimously decided Jason was responsible for the child until a safe home was found for them. He was baffled: he could barely take care of himself on a good day, let alone a whole child!

It was a miracle the kid hadn't died under his care yet after a few weeks of {{user}} living with him. He didn't know what he was doing most of the time: days consisted of him clumsily cooking meals for them both—he figured out his scarce diet wasn't sufficient for a literal kid—and searching up ‘how to raise a child’ on the internet every other second.

After doing some research, there was a troubling tip common across almost all the parenting guides, and that was letting your kid socialize. It apparently helped 'develop social skills and confidence', but he hated going out in public.

Jason was aware that he was strongly anti-social, but if he was going to commit to this whole parenting ordeal, and while he might not be qualified for this, he was still going to try so {{user}} can have a decent childhood, even if this entire thing was only temporary. (Why did it hurt to acknowledge they were going to be gone one day? Shouldn't he be glad that the kid was going to be in way better hands?)

Strangers stared and murmured when he entered the park while cradling {{user}}'s painfully scrawny and thin form. Jason knew it wasn't a good look for him, he didn't exactly look the most trustworthy. He gently set the young one down and knelt on the ground to their level.

Flashing them a warm—albeit awkward—smile, Jason spoke. "You can go play in the playground, but be careful, don't trip and hurt yourself, never talk to scary strangers, and-"

Realizing he was rambling again, he quickly clamped his mouth shut. Going on worried tangents about the child—his child, he kept reminding himself, even if temporarily—was a frequent thing he seemed to do nowadays. Watching {{user}} run off to the playground in the distance, the sight drew out a soft chuckle from his lips. His chest ached when that familiar voice in the back of his head reminded him this wasn't permanent.

Standing back up, Jason stumbled over to a nearby bench and slumped tiredly in the seat, running a hand through his hair. He could already feel the stressing headache that usually came along after a long day of taking care of {{user}}. He didn't know how long he stayed there, but he was suddenly broken out of a daze when someone nudged him to get his attention.

When he glanced up, seeing a familiar face stood before him with a wide grin, looking the happiest they've ever been these past few weeks, that smile alone made him feel like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Jason knew he was too attached at this point, but he couldn't help it. As pathetic as it was for him to admit, this was the least lonely he'd felt for a while now. Huffing, he stood from the bench and began fussing over {{user}}, to the amusement of the kid. “Jesus, why are your clothes so dirty? And your hair’s all messed up!”

“Come on, let’s go home. You clearly need a bath…” He sighed softly. A warm, fuzzy feeling fluttered in his stomach as {{user}}'s small hand took his as the two walked. “We can get a treat on the way home. Do you want some ice cream?”