Fallen Angel

Chapter 2- The backstory of Jason Todd

Jason POV-
I silently sat in my room, curled in a ball in my bed, facing the wall.

Dinner was in a few minutes, but I wasn't hungry. I hadn't left my room for 2 days straight now, despite my brothers and sisters's efforts to get me to come out, even my niece, Dad, and grandpa.

I stared at the photo in my hand. It was me, Sabine Cheng, my mother figure, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my baby sister, all smiling and laughing. Pixie Pop was on in my arms upside down, and I was carrying her from a huge leaf pile with leaves all over us and in our hair and clothes, and love, happy, and mischievous grin on my face, my eyes glittering with joy and content. Mari's face was glowing with a huge grin that spelled out joy and love, and she was laughing. Sabine, who had the picture in selfie mode and was taking the photo, had a motherly and amused smile on her face and was playfully rolling her eyes at us. All of us had bruises: me a black eye and bruised arms, MJ with a bruised slap mark on her cheek, and Sabine with a bruised throat, and we had several bandages on us, but we were still having a good time.

No, Pixie Pop and I weren't biologically related, but Sabine had taken me in on my 8th birthday, when I was living on the streets. My father, Willis Todd, had been in jail (and still currently was) at the time, and my stepmom, Catherine Todd, had overdosed on drugs, thanks to my abusive and always drunk father, so I was forced to go to the streets at 6 years old and fend for myself.

I loved the Dupain-Chengs with all my heart and more, but I HATED Tom Dupain with every damn fiber in my body and everything in me. He was just like my father: always drunk and extremely abusive. MJ had quickly grown attached to me, as I had with her. She was the little sister I have always wanted, the little Angel that I needed.

When Mari was 6 and me 9, Tom had murdered Sabine, the woman I had adored and called my mother, in front of Mari and I, and even though I fought to protect my beloved little sister with everything I had, Tom had beaten me until I had fallen unconscious. The last thing I had said to her was "Always fight back, my little princess. Never back down or forget who you really are. Don't let Tom or anyone bring you down, and remember what I taught you. I love you, Marinette Jakayla.". And both MJ and Tom were gone by the time I had woken up.

I've looked all over the damn world for Marinette, literally: all 50 states, Canada, Brazil, Spain, Madagascar, Iran, New Zealand, Iraq, the Bahamas, Russia, Germany, France, Afghanistan, Rome, Greece, China, Africa, North and South Korea, italy, the United Kingdom, Romania, Iceland, Greenland, and India. I just got back from Japan 2 days ago, all with no luck in finding my missing little sister, who was my best friend.

"Damn it, Pixie Pop, where the fucking hell are you?" I quietly sighed, letting my tears stream down my face as I silently cried. My new family had no idea why I was always traveling. They didn't know about Marinette, Sabine, and Tom, because I wasn't ready to tell them yet, even after 10 years of living with them. Shit, I even made it where Bruce would never be able to find my adoption papers from when Sabine adopted me. That's how dead set on keeping my past hidden from the Wayne's, or anyone for that matter, even my only friend Roy Harper. I wasn't going to let them in, even if it killed me again.

It wasn't going to happen. Never in a million years.

I didn't allow them to call me JayJay, Jay, jase, or Jaybird. Those were the nicknames that Mari and Sabine had given me, and no one else was allowed to call me by them. It was too painful to have it come off of anyone else's lips but theirs. Last week Dick called me Jay, and since I was already in a bad mood, I had dislocated his shoulder and broke his nose, and told him to never call me that again in a tone that made him pale. I was sensitive about my past.

When Bruce had adopted me after taking the wheels of the batmobile off, I only told him a small piece: my dad was in jail, and my mom was dead. I had been taking about Willis and Catherine, not the Dupain-Chengs. Other than those two short sentences, no one knew anything about my past. Not. A. Thing.