Chapter Text
Jason was down on the ground and breathing heavily. There was blood on his hands and jacket and he didn’t know how much of it was his. On top of it, his head rang, making recollecting what happened in the last five minutes hard. He groggily sat up. There was a smoking building before him. Brown bricks engulfed in red.
Oh yeah, he remembered now. The usual in a way. There had been a lot of guns and knives involved. Then, just as he was thinking of escalating things, someone else beat him to it. The explosion had been jarring. And it was only that rotten luck of his - always flickering on and of for him - that had gotten him out in time when the gang members had already fled the burning building. Then there had been a second, bigger explosion which had turned his running into a mockery of a flight.
He turned away and scanned the scene. It was eerily empty save for one guy laying on the ground, groaning and spluttering blood. Jason had put a bullet in that one. Right were all those squishy important organs were. Behind him the fire raged on, crackling and spitting as it consumed the historic harbour building where the drug gang had set up shop.
He thought the shit show of a mission through, while he fought to get back on his feet. He could pretty much rule out other vigilantes – this was Batman’s turf and him and his little minions wouldn’t resort to such measures. So it was either the gang itself or a rival. Both meant he had a reason to worry. All his evidence had originally pointed to a smaller operation that he had wanted to quench before it settled and grew. Like he was a goddamn mould exterminator, he thought and spit blood on the floor. He had also thought the gang too small for others to care about it. So maybe they had really pissed someone of - or they wanted to piss him off and could stomach the loss of their products.
Either way, he had a cluster fuck on his hands and it was time to clean up. In the distance the sound of sirens was a slowly growing soft whisper. He walked over to the poor bastard the others had left behind, loomed over him for a second. Then Jason poked him with his boot. Squinted, hateful eyes, looked up at him. They were framed by vicious looking gang tattoos one gets for a trip to prison.
“Pretty swastika you have there. But let’s save the tax payers some money, eh?” Jason asked and shot him between the eyes. “Something tells me a hospital and our reformatory system are wasted on you.”
He would find some other rat he could make squeal. For now it was high time to get of here. His whole body hurt like hell and the sound of sirens was getting closer. He had a safe house at the harbour but he wasn’t sure he would make it in his state so he knocked at the bordel just around the corner.
Not all girls knew him but those who did ushered him in and patched him up before he could insist otherwise. Mindy even brought him a peppermint tea and shared some of her painkillers with him. Charity strongly urged him to see a doctor because of his blackout while the other women chattered about how they had always thought the place super shady. He promised Charity he would get his head checked then went around questioning the ladies. Jason cursed himself for not doing that sooner. He had really taken that job too lightly.
He hit jackpot when several women told him they had seen the Penguin come and go a few times. That had been months ago, way before Jason started his stakeout but it was solid lead for now. With police and firefighters still swarming the block he stayed settled, got comfortable to watch TV with Mindy and smoke some of her high-grade weed.
Hours later Jason made his way back home still a bit dopey from the weed, the painkillers, the soft throbbing of pain through all that fog and the gleeful knowledge that he would take on the penguin next. So when he walked past a ramen shop and his addled brain just went food, nice he jumped on it.
It was lunch time but the shop was pleasantly empty. Instead it was solely the hearty smell of broth and cooked meat that filled up the room. He routinely scanned for exit points (kitchen, windows and front door) then ordered a large portion of their standard and some fancy Japanese drink they sold just for the hell of it. Jason settled into a booth and started going over all the information he had on the Penguin’s recent activities in his head. The door to the ramen shop opened, making him raise his head, and a soft jingle accompanied the entrance of a face he would rather not see right now.
Dick Grayson walked in with with a pretty brunette. She was talking about something, he listened with a stupid transfixed smile on his face. Jason pushed himself up to get the hell out of here when the waiter placed the most wonderful looking ramen in front of him. For a second he was entranced by the sight and, oh god, the smell and when he looked up he locked eyes with Grayson. His mouth was slightly open, a surprised look on his face and his blue eyes were as intensely piercing as ever. Now that he was caught Jason abandoned plan A and instead settled deeper into his booth and picked up his chopsticks. To hell with that family. He would enjoy his goddamn food and if Grayson wanted a fight he could come and get it. Jason would make it work, he had fought in worse shape. While he began slurping down the noodles (delicious af) Dick made his way over to him. The brunette trailed unsure after him.
“Hi Jason,” he said and took in Jason’s appearance, “wow, you look awful.”
The brunette snorted but didn’t step too close.
“Well, I helped an old lady over the street. It was vicious.”
Grayson ignored Jason’s quip and instead looked worried. The prick.
“You look like you got your ass handed to you. You could have reached out.”
“Next time I’ll write a card,” he said sardonically.
Dick nodded like that was a perfectly fine answer, then said: “But still, I haven’t heard from you for a long time. I worried.”
He turned to the girl before Jason could find a retort to that. Because last they met there had been less talking, more fighting and one or the other accusation of betrayal. “This is Jason, would you mind if we join him? I would love to catch up with him.”
She didn’t look too happy. Jason mused that it must be a lunch date of some kind. He supposed this wasn’t the ideal development when one tried to sack Richard Grayson. She didn’t object though, so they settled down on the opposite side.
“I’m Jennifer,” she introduced herself but offered nothing more. She seemed cautious with him which was evidently a functioning common sense on her part, a trait Grayson seemed to all but have lost. Case in point was everything he did after he and Jennifer had ordered.
“How have you been doing?” he asked all innocent like they were old acquaintances not vigilantes on opposite sides of a war fighting for Gotham’s soul. Jason fixed him with a disbelieving stare and continued slurping his noodles. Damn, he was tired. A part of him was strangely glad Grayson wasn’t here to fight but he knew he didn’t owe that man answers or anything more.
When he didn’t respond, Grayson looked at him for a few seconds. The corners of his lips turned downward and a stiffness entered his shoulders. Then he started talking, threw himself into a story, smiling, gesticulating.
“Life at the manour has been wild. Damian recently adopted a cow and champions animal rights at every opportunity he gets. It drives Bruce slowly mad while Alfred indulges both of them.” He chuckled. “Alfred has also started experimenting with some new flavours in his cooking and is not very forthcoming with information about why, so Steph thinks he is seeing someone and made it her new top priority to find out more.” Grayson grinned at him boyish and happy. “So Bruce is also huffy about that.”
Jason picked up some egg and vegetables, made a noncommittal sound. Dangling Bruce drama and good news about Alfred in front of him was a dirty move from Grayson. Despite himself he was charmed and had to suppress a smile, the mental image of Bruce despairing over a cow and his feral child was hilarious.
“And what about you? You skipped on that.” When Grayson wanted to overshare, Jason could as well use it for intel gathering. Get the complete picture and all...
He shrugged. “I just closed a big case in Bludhaven. It was a gang murder but more vicious then usual. Too many civilians got hurt before we got the people responsible.”
The waiter brought them their food, shortly interrupting them and Jason took Grayson in, really looked at him. He had distantly heard about the event, gruesome even in his taste, but hadn’t known Grayson had worked on it. There were stark shadows under his eyes, but he carried them with his usual grace and an easy smile. The golden boy.
Jennifer piped up after the waiter left. “They even think of giving him a medal.”
Grayson, predictably, fended of that honour. Called it unwarranted because he had just been doing his job. Jennifer continued to tease him and Jason continued watching. Grayson had always made having a double life look easy. Just a cop doing his job, believing in what was right. Out on a date. Jason bet he even had work friends.
“Cheers to that,” Jason said raising his soda not quite sure if toasting the accomplishment or his spiteful thought process. Either way, it came out scathing and he relished the disruption of their banter and the faltering of Jennifer’s laugh.
But Grayson smiled at him. Just for a second it was so warm and unguarded like when they both had been younger, brighter, lighter. Like he was just about to tell Jason how much he had accomplished too and how proud he was of him. Maybe ruffle his hair. It was not at all the kind of reaction his mocking comment deserved and suddenly the pain of what had been lost stung anew. Sometimes Jason couldn't help but remember all the dreams and hopes he had and it made him want to puke. He lowered his fizzy drink. His ramen was finished anyway.
“Okay fuckers, gotta dash.” And before Grayson could stop him he had thrown a few bills on the table and was out of the door and back on his way home.
The explosion benched him for a whole week but luckily the doctor gave his head the all-clear. Jason just needed to rest and let his body recover. He passed the time with careful exercising and lots of research on the Penguin. The slippery bastard. In between he polished his guns and fed the neighbour’s cat who was away and had asked nicely enough. At night he dreamed of killing. Jason liked the dreams where he got to be the killer much better than those where he was the one killed. And oh boy, did he kill and murder and rip apart a parade of unknown and much too well known faces. So he was in a good mood when he went on a cigarette run and instead ran into Jennifer. She seemed surprised to see him which appeased Jason’s paranoia.
“Grayson already boring you out?” he drawled.
She cocked her head and a slow smile spread on her face.
“No, but I think you are the man I need right now anyway.” That startled a laugh out of Jason, so sudden a tiny old lady on the other side of the street turned her head.
“Hear me out,” she said. “I don’t know what happened between you and Dick, if you were friends, lovers or anything else. But I got the feeling you still mean a lot to each other and Dick hasn’t acted the same since we saw you. Next weekend they celebrate the old police chiefs retirement, you should come. It’s a relaxed event despite what it sounds like.” She smiled at him then, all soft and gentle. “I bet Dick would be really happy to see you.”
“I think you have some stuff mixed up, lady. There is no lost love between us, more like scorched earth.”
“Still, if you want to come.” She fished out a notebook, scribbled down an address and time, ripped off the page and pushed it at Jason.
“You’re really inviting me to a goddamn cop party?” He looked down at himself to double check the vibe he was giving off and in his own goddamn opinion it sure as hell still wasn't cop buddy.
“Yes, Richard and I will be there, as friends. You should come.” She went on undeterred, stressing the friends part too much in Jason’s opinion. She looked at him quizzically. “The drinks will be free.”
Jason shook his head. “You had me at cop party,” he said, his voice oozing sarcasm. But the free booze didn’t sound too bad. And what a chance to bug Grayson and see what Bludhaven’s finest were made of. Being the Red Hood, waltzing around them, eating their donuts. Oh the irony. Even if he had sworn to be done with that family, this chance felt to sweet to pass up. He took the paper.