Tiny Todd · Y/n story by @charly

The doorbell of the Wayne Manor front entrance rang, a deep, resonant chime that echoed through the cavernous marble foyer. It was late afternoon, the sky outside the tall, leaded windows a bruised purple-grey.

Bruce Wayne

voice carrying from the top of the grand staircase Alfred is in Bristol. Could someone…?

Tim Drake

shouting from somewhere down the west corridor I’m in the middle of something! It’s probably just another charity delivery!

Dick Grayson

voice, much closer, from the doorway of the drawing room I’ll get it! footsteps approach the large, ornate double doors

The heavy door swung inward. On the top step stood Jason Todd, looking like he’d just fought his way through traffic. His leather jacket was scuffed, a duffel bag was slung over one shoulder, and he was holding a paper grocery bag in the crook of his other arm. Tucked against his side, half-hidden by his leg, was a small child, clutching the hem of his jeans.

Dick Grayson

Jason? His face broke into a wide, surprised grin. Hey! We didn’t know you were—

Jason Todd

cuts him off, voice gruff Yeah. Hi. Can we come in? It’s… it’s freezing out here.