1 Chapter 1 - A Rude Awakening

Main Character POV

Ever since the day I was born my life has just been one big shit show. I was born to a kind mother and in-prisoned father. Growing up me and my mom could barely get by in life. She never graduated from high school due to dropping out when she was pregnant with me. Finding a decent paying job was basically impossible for her. She wanted to go back to school, but couldn't with not any time to spare. Both of her parents disowned her after she ran off with my piece of shit father. Leaving her with only me.

My father was a man who promised some naive girl the world and couldn't deliver. He was arrested the year of my birth leaving my mother to take care of me alone and I never heard about him since. Now she could have just dropped me off at some orphanage, but she couldn't bare the thought of giving away the one family she still had with her. A selfish wish from her, but one I am thankful for since I got to spend time with her while I could.

The city we had to grow up in was basically a capital of crime, where things can and will get worse at any moment. She was able to make friends with some homeless people that could take care of me, while she left to find work wherever she could. It was honestly a miracle I was able to live to the age I was with the horrible temperatures and crime filled streets. With enough time she was able to save enough money for us to rent some shady as hell living space or what I would called my first home.

The years would go by quickly with my mother working her ass off any way she could and me being taken care of by any friend that was available for her. My childhood years would have been hell if not for my mother. She spent every moment that was free of hers with me. Telling me stories to take my focus away from my living situation. Such a good woman who's life took a turn for the worst with just a single mistake. She was a smart person and was able to instill basic lessons into me that would be useful for basic living.

From learning to write, read, and simple math. I was thankful for having her in my life, but things did end up taking a turn for the worst. I was twelve years old when she died. I knew this because one day she just stopped showing up and never returned again. I doubt to this day she was a woman who would abandon her child. Not after taking care and teaching me for twelve years straight. Nobody would waste that much time to then just give up and I knew she cared for me too much to leave me. At least that's what I hope.

After she just disappeared I ended back up in the streets as just another homeless person. I didn't have any money to pay the rent, which led to my said homelessness. I become thinner than I already was due to extra lack of nutrition. Who would have thought trying to survive from eating trash wasn't enough. After realizing that wasn't enough I try to get money the only way I could think of trying to find some work. Surprisingly nobody wants to have some scrawny anorexic looking looking kid working from them.

So I tried the next thing. Stealing whatever money or food I could. Sometimes I got caught and was beat for trying to steal, but eventually I learned from my mistakes. I spent almost every moment that wasn't for sleeping stealing. Eventually I would find more success and would be able to buy myself some decent food. And that was how I spent the next year or two before being noticed by some gang.

Apparently I was being watched without even realizing it. I was recruited forcefully without much choice. At least the gang gave me a place to finally stay instead of some cold and damp alleyway. The gang didn't have me do anything too important other than stealing and delivering whatever they needed. They would later have me participate in some fire fights with other gangs. I was a pretty good shot with any gun I was given. But it still didn't mean I liked any of it. The people there at least taught me more ways to survive the streets of this crime filled city. From ways to handle people and more ways to survive confrontations that I could end up in.

I am now nineteen and lying on the ground covered in my own leaking blood. All this thinking of the past must be some kind of memory reel before I die here. Like my life flashing before my eyes as I slowly bleed out. How I got in this situation is pretty funny. One of my gang mates was robbing this lady and was about to shoot her with her kids. I intervened and shot him myself. I may kill people, but killing the innocent was something I would never consider.

My mom would never forgive me if she was still here. I don't want to destroy the only remaining morals she taught me when she was around. Of course killing another gang mate was basically a rule that couldn't be crossed without some consequences. Those consequences being the bullet holes now currently in my body when hunted down by my former gang mates.

I'm not really scared that I'm dying. I've lived a shitty life and am probably am going to hell. I wish I could see my mother who is most likely in heaven with how kind she was, but the chances of that are slim. I start closing my eyes as the cold embrace of death slowly overcomes me. I lived a short life, but at least I did one right thing for once.

Current time: ???

Current place: ???

I open my eyes with a startled breath and see everything around me is dark. I can still feel my body, but it feels different and extremely painful. Like I have cuts across my body and my bones feel like they've been hit with a blunt heavy weapon. I thought I was dead, but I definitely feel alive. Unless this is my own fucked up version of hell. Trapped alone in what I can feel is some kind of box in agonizing pain. Definitely sounds like a punishment I could end up with. I move my hands to my chest and grit my teeth along the way in pain.

I try pushing on the smooth surface above me. It feels wooden, maybe I can break out of it. It doesn't budge an inch. Thinking quickly I start to take smaller breaths to maintain whatever oxygen I have in this box. I reach down to my pants and feel a belt on me. After a moment of squirming I am able to get the belt free. I wrap the belt around my fist and get ready to break out of wherever the hell I am.

I reach back as much as I can in this cramped space and punch up with all my strength. I feel my fist collide with the surface and grimace in pain. The belt may have protected my fist somewhat, but it sill hurts like a bitch. I keep repeating the only method of escape over and over again. Exerting myself through the pain. I switch my hand every so often to not tire the arm out completely. I eventually hear a clear crack and feel some substance leaking down into the box near my face. I smells like dirt.

'Did someone bury me alive? What an asshole!!'

I keep on pounding with renewed vigor from the chance of escape, while the crack grows wider with every punch. My fists aching, but I let myself slowly become numb to the pain as I focus only on one thing. Escape. The dirt keeps on pouring through with increased amounts. I reach my hands forward as the crack is big enough to tear open with my hands. I grip both sides and tear away.

The dirt comes pouring in like a tsunami and encompasses me after I take one last big breath. I claw with my hands upward as my eyes remain closed. I really hope I'm clawing upwards or I'm gonna be a real dumbass. As I make way with my torn hands the dirt starts to feel wet. And with it being wet it starts becoming harder to claw away with its heaver weight. I disregard this and keep on going without care of me hands well being. I start to feel my need for oxygen rise with urgency.

After I feel myself slowly blacking out my hands finally reaches the surface and is pelted with water. It must be raining, that's why the dirt felt wet. I breakthrough with the rest of my body and finally greet the open raining air. I taken a moment to catch my breath and rinse the dirt off my face with my wet hands. After clearing my eyes, I finally open them once again and take in my surroundings. It's dark and cloudy with the rain pounding hard. All around my are grave stones shining slickly with the rain.

My first question is who the hell would bury me. Usually the bodies of people left in my city either rot or are taken to be burned in a crematory. I look around slowly before looking at the gravestone where I was buried. The name on the gravestone isn't my name, it says Jason Todd.

That's when I feel my head splitting open. Like someone drove a hot poker into my brain and let it simmer. I feel memories flash into my head. Memories of a boy named Jason Todd from his birth all the way to his death. I feel every emotion he ever felt in a literal moment. Like I'm experiencing and reliving his entire life from his perspective. I scream my throat dry with every painful moment he has. From living his equally shitty life, becoming robin, and finally my death at the hands of the Joker.

It all comes to a stop and I just lay down on my back with the rain continuing its heavy downpour. None of this makes sense, but the only answer I can even think of is that I'm now Jason Todd and still me. My life before this moment is all still there in my head and I'm now a dead, but alive again fifteen year old teenager. It feels like I'm me, but Jason at the same time. Both different lines of thinking, yet similar with the ways our lives were. Both born in a bad situation and trying to survive the only ways we could.

I'm two people combined into a single body. Both lines of thoughts swirling and crossing each other like intersecting streams.

'I wonder how B would react once he knows I'm alive'

I stop that thought as fast as it came. That was the Jason part of me thinking, but I can't let that get out of control. I don't want to be some rich guys little sidekick again. He obviously couldn't even save us when we needed him.

'But B can help'

No, I can't think like that. Dammit it's like fighting a battle with myself in my mind. This shit is all so confusing. How am I alive? That's something both sets of our thoughts are focused on. I bled to death.

'and died to the Joker.'

We both died and yet live once again. What is the reason for all of this.

'Maybe B can find some answers. He is always able to.'

Or I can just live this new chance at life without the hero shit. With the knowledge and skills I have from both our lives I should be able to live in this city with ease. We both are stopped from our opposite thoughts from the pain of our shredded hands and torn body. I look down at my body and see blood seeping through the suit I was buried in. I somehow retained the wounds that Joker gave me from his sadistic torturing.

I want to kill that clown fuck and beat his brains in with that damn crowbar. But first I need some medical care first and the only person I can think of is Leslie Thompkins. A woman who runs a medical clinic and has even saved my life once when I was beat within an inch of my life when I was still a street rat. I stand up with difficulty and start to head towards the exit of this damned cemetery.

The rain still pouring on me as walk shakily with difficulty. I shiver as I finally start to feel the cold and my numbness dies down. Both of our strong wills keeping me going as I walk out of the cemetery and towards Gotham's Park row. It feels like everything is on fast forward as I walk. Not much people are out in this time of day. Especially with this weather conditions. Anybody who is out doesn't bother other peopler because they know not to stick their nose in other's business. Standard Gotham citizens, ignoring everything till it festers.

I walk through shortcuts memorized through years of traversing this city in my head. Still weird to have both memories and yet function somewhat normally. Aside from the more Jason side of me sometimes straying with different thoughts.

'We should get Leslie to call B so he knows'

I ignore that thought and feelings of longing to continue towards my destination. A quick look up into the sky still has stormy clouds, but I can make out a light shining through it all. The bat signal. Looks like he is out tonight. Seems even my death didn't stop him from the ever pointless fight. I wonder if he killed the Joker for me.

'He must have avenged me right?'

I'm broken from our line of thoughts by the sight of the clinic. I don't know how long I've walked, but I feel ready to collapse at the slightest moments. The injuries and cold both contributing to my worsening state. I storm through it all to push against the door. The lights are on, but the door is locked. I try for a push again before finally giving up on that method. Instead I try knocking with as much force I can still muster.

I hear footsteps on the other side approaching the door. I stop leaning on it as I hear a clinking noise. The door swings open and the light shines through on my wet and bloodied figure. I squint at the brightness before I finally adjust and look in front of me.

I feel relief flood through me as I see Leslie standing there with shocked eyes and a hand on her mouth. She looks about the same as I last saw her when I came to get patched up after getting stabbed in a confrontation with the Riddler. Fucking asshole with his lame as hell riddles.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," I snark at her still form. That's all that is able to come out of my hoarse throat before everything starts to fade to black. Black spots growing in my vision. My body probably couldn't take it anymore after finally finding sanctuary. My last sight is her rushing forward to grab my crumpling body.

Author's Notes: That is a wrap for the first chapter. For those that have read my first story, don't worry I'm not quitting that one. I just wanted to write this really badly. Something different than what I'm currently writing. If people might be confused on his mental state, I'll try to explain. So basically both sets of memories are there in the mind, but now Jason thinks in two separate ways sometimes. Mainly when both thoughts disagree on something. Both exist as one, yet two at the same time. I'll get more into it next chapter if people still have trouble. It's somewhat similar to how the character firestorm thinks, but still a little different. Sorry that the chapter was shorter than usual.

Thank you for reading and see you next chapter.