Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

White blinding light, a smokescreen pulled over his eyes as head throbbed, nausea clawing its way up his throat, the pressure sitting at the back of his tongue as knees hit hard concrete. Or was this asphalt? He wasn’t sure, not with the ringing in his ears and the blackness overtaking his vision. Pulsating lights flashed and faded, the sounds of car horns blaring. Colours filtered back in, followed by the headache ebbing away. It was concrete beneath his knees and fingertips, the all too familiar stench of back alleys and smog filling his lungs. He could see the neon lights and flickering street lamps, car headlights washing over people scurrying place to place.

Pushing himself up off his knees, he held up an arm to check the gauntlet. Only to find that it wasn’t there. Of course, that was what was niggling at the back of Bruce’s mind. It wasn’t night time a few minutes ago. It was yet another cloudy day in Gotham and another boring day at the office. He was still dressed in the blue suit he wore to work this morning.

He remembers the building shaking, screaming coming from the labs below, and his footsteps pounding on tiles. The lab went white just as he threw open the door, smoke thick in the air and a whirring noise in his ears. Something had gone wrong.

He raised his head, examining the signs on the buildings. He was in the Bowery, there was no disputing that, but the flickering sign with faded letterings and broken plastic above boarded up doors instantly told him that it wasn’t the one he remembered. ‘Johnny Charisma, Live’ with police tape stretching across the front of the theatre. Turning around, he saw something similar across the way. A small diner, torn apart and secluded from the public.

He didn’t even know who Johnny Charisma was, much less why the entirety of the place looked in a similar state as the diner and theatre, as if it had been through a war zone. A war that was clearly still happening given the red checkpoints lit up in the night, with armed soldiers marching past and the rumble of military tanks in the distance. Something had gone very wrong.

‘Okay. Just take stock of what you know. You are in Gotham but it is not your Gotham. This happened after an explosion in a lab that was working on perfecting teleportation and travelling long distances instantly. It could be that it sent you to a different universe rather than a different location. Now you have to confirm that theory. Find hard evidence that this is not the same and catalogue any other discrepancies between where you are now and the Gotham you know.’ Bruce went through his situation methodically, breaking down every step of his plan to move forward as he walked down the street, keeping to himself.

That’s when he heard the gunshot followed by a shout and gurgling of someone choking. He broke into a sprint before he could stop himself, following the sound. He stuttered to a stop at an alleyway, blood seeping towards the entrance and flowing beneath his shoe.

He scowled and took a step forwards, clenching his fists before deciding otherwise and adopting a clueless expression on his face.

An expression which instantly fell away and into the hardened and blank look he wore as Batman. That was due to the stranger on the ground at the end of the alley, a hand wrapped around his torso with blood pooling beneath it.

This stranger wore red and grey camouflage styled shirt and trousers, with plated boots and gauntlets. The armour plating had sections of blue, mainly on the chest. The metal wrapped around his neck and shoulders, back facing towards Bruce. There were two triangular bat-like appendages attached to the blue helmet. Surely this wasn’t this universe's Batman?

Another gunshot. The stranger had a pistol pointed at the shadows of the alley. Bruce gritted his teeth, watching with narrowed eyes. Surely that wasn’t him in the suit. He couldn’t imagine himself ever using a gun in any universe.

“I’m warning you! You better not come any closer, goddamn freaks.” The man in the mask growled, voice electronically distorted. He was interrupted by heavy footsteps. Raising his head, he spotted a soldier nearby with the same symbol on his uniform as the one inscribed on the strangers shoulder guards. The stranger chuckled weakly, still holding his stomach. “Good to see you Anderson. What, you get held up by rioters again?”

“Well well, if it isn’t the Arkham Knight. Surprised to see you here, but yeah so we gassed em. They should be choking on their worst fears by now. What about you sir, what happened to you?” The soldier, Anderson, asked.

Arkham Knight let out another chuckle. “God damn fear junkies. There were about sixteen of them, one of them managed to get a blade through my armour. Dropped all but three. Should still be around here.”

Bruce melded into the shadows, waiting to see what this so-called Knight would do or what his current motivations and or goals were. From that conversation alone, it didn’t sound like he was on the side of the angels.

The soldier stepped closer, walking over to the Knight when a shadow passed overhead and a familiar black and blue suit dropped down from the rooftops above, a small smile lacing itself onto Bruce’s lips. Nightwing. Hopefully he wasn’t too different to the one he knew back home.

Anderson brandished his gun, aiming it right at Nightwing and shouting for him to back up. The knight started to say something, but was quickly cut off by a swift kick right to the stomach wound.

Knight groaned and pushed his hands against the ground, forcing himself up to his feet. “Didn’t I mention, the guy that tagged me was Nightwing?” He said with a mirthless laugh and dry chuckle, grunting as he shifted, the wound a deep red and the gun still trained upon Nightwing.

“Shit. Fuck. You didn’t mention that, no. Would have been nice to know.” Anderson cursed and kept his gun trained on Nightwing, the man standing right in front of the Knight.

Nightwing moved, faster than Bruce had ever seen him, and foot collided with the Knight’s body, coming up on his left side which he was shielding due to the wound. A crack echoed as Arkham Knight slammed into the brick wall. The gun clattered to the ground on impact.

The Knight ducked Nightwing’s next swing, bringing his fist up and nailing the man in the jaw. Nightwing didn’t even seem to notice. He snarled, pupil’s dilated, and charged the Knight again. This time he had a birdarang in his grip, and sliced right at the Knight’s throat.

The Knight ducked to the side, rounding on his feet and grabbing Nightwing’s hair, slamming his face into the wall. He went to do it again, when suddenly he collapsed, body convulsing. Nightwing whirled towards Anderson, the smile on his face wicked and cruel and unlike anything Bruce had ever seen on any of his children’s faces. An electric baton was in Nightwing’s hand, sparking bright blue.

Anderson cursed and fired at Nightwing. Nightwing charged, avoiding the arch of bullets. A discharge of electricity hit Anderson right in the face, dropping him instantly. Then Nightwing turned back to the Arkham Knight.

“They’re dead because of you, you sick son of a bitch. I’m going to enjoy watching you bleed out. Death is too good for you, but you’d probably enjoy anything else, wouldn’t you?” Nightwing hissed, cackling at the words. It honestly scared Bruce, to see him this way, so willing to kill or worse. Whatever drove him to this was not something he wanted to encounter but at the same time it might be the only way of helping Nightwing. And he would, no matter what universe, he would always help his sons.

Nightwing grabbed the Arkham Knight, slamming his head against the wall. Again, and again and again. He didn’t stop even when a loud crack echoed followed by the shattering of what sounded like glass. A wheeze came from the Arkham Knight, the distortion no longer there. Instead it was a broken and soft sound, much higher pitched than Bruce expected.

Nightwing threw him backwards, driving an elbow right into Knight’s ribcage as he leapt on him. He raised a fist and kept punching, kept going even as blue shards embedded themselves in his knuckles.

“Dick, stop! It’s me!” The Knight yelled, coughing heavily through wheezing breaths. Whoever this Knight was, he sounded young. Younger than Bruce expected. A lot younger. And the way he said Dick’s name, that wasn’t an insult, there was a strong sense of familiarity there.

Nightwing dropped him, laughing. “Don’t beg for mercy now Joker. You know what you did. Although I am surprised you even know how to beg.”

The Knight’s head flopped to the side, face angled slightly towards Bruce, broken faceplate sparking and shattered to reveal the man inside.

And Bruce couldn’t breathe. His heart stopped and veins turned to ice, all the air completely gone from his lungs as he saw the Arkham Knight's face. He looked much older, and had several scars, his face mostly turned away, but Bruce would recognise him by the back of his head a mile away. Jason. His Jason. His son, his boy, alive. Here. Now.

The number one rule of accidental multiverse travel was don’t interfere with anything. You don’t belong there, you could irreparably change things or alter the course of this world or yours.

But Bruce, he couldn’t let Jason bleed. Never again. Even the thought of not seeing him again made him sick. Of not seeing his face. He knew he wasn’t the same as the one he lost, that would be impossible. Even if they weren’t in an alternate universe, that theory now very much confirmed, that many scars would change someone irreparably. He might not know the story behind any of them, but even his actions tonight spoke volumes. This was not the same Jason.

And yet Bruce didn’t care. No matter what his son was like or what he did, he was still his son. Even if there was absolutely nothing left of the Jason he knew and loved, he wouldn’t care. People changed all the time. They adapted, did what they had to, and he was okay with that. Granted he wasn’t thrilled knowing his son, his little boy, killed two people right in front of him and is planning to kill many more, but that doesn’t mean he’d shun or hate him. Jason must have a reason for breaking that one rule. Crossing that one line. And Bruce was desperate to figure it out.

Nightwing was still laughing, pounding down on Jason. Anderson had sat up, calling in backup on his radio and firing at Nightwing.

Bruce didn’t care. He’d follow Jason into Hell and back just to catch a glimpse of his face. Just to hear his voice again. It was so rough and deep compared to what he knew, yet still so young. Far too young for someone like him. He didn’t know the timeline here or how old Jason was, but back home, his Jason would have been nineteen.

God, nineteen years old. Jason probably would have given up Robin by now. Moved on to a different persona or better yet, given it up altogether. Maybe he would have been studying English at college, or training to be a Teacher. Jason would have made a fantastic teacher, he always had a way with kids. Even when he was one himself, he always made them feel safe. Always made them smile. He could just see it now, Jason in front of a class of kindergarteners, reading books to them.

Bruce moved, slamming into Nightwing. The man hit the wall and lunged at Bruce. Bruce snatched the second baton off of Nightwing’s back, and plunged it right into Dick’s stomach, saying a silent apology to him.

Anderson glared at him. “Elliot. What are you doing here?” He demanded. Bruce ignored him , kneeling down next to Jason. He reached forwards for him, going to examine the knife wound. Jason flinched and moved away.

“I would never hurt you.” Bruce said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Damn, he was typically so measured and controlled. He would never normally be this caught off guard or say something careless.

But the Arkham Knight just chuckled weakly and mirthlessly. “I don’t even know you.”

“But I know you. Jason.” Bruce whispered and turned around, letting the lone streetlight catch his face, shadows playing across his eyes and body, hand still outstretched towards the wound.

The Arkham Knight went completely still. Silent for several minutes. Until eventually he reached up and pulled off the broken helmet.

Bruce couldn’t see his face well in the shadows, but he could see the expression on it. The wide eyes and slack jaw, all of which quickly morphed into something hard, something clenched and set. Something resembling anger.

“I don’t think you do. What game are you playing, Elliot?” Jason spat, whipping out the pistol in his holster and jamming it against Bruce’s temple.

Bruce moved his head with the movement, sighing. “I’m not Thomas Elliot. I am not Hush. It’s really me. Bruce.” He said matter of factly.

That mirthless laugh returned and Jason threw his head back, cackling, before snapping it forwards and glaring at him. “You really expect me to believe that? As if I wasn’t the one to bury his body? Come on, who do you think I am?” Jason snapped.

Bruce was dead here. That was, well it was something. He would come back to that later. For now, he had to soothe Jason. He saw the way his face twisted when he told him who he was, he saw the flash of guilt and the clench of the jaw, he saw the minute flinch and the way he leant ever so slightly closer.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything. You always made up your own mind,” he chuckled softly at the mental image of Jason all scraped up and refusing to get off the mat until he perfected a move Bruce said was way above his level, “or at least, you did in my universe. I’m not from around here.”

Jason slowly lowered the gun, setting it down on the ground next to him. “Okay. Let’s say I believe your insane and ridiculous story. You’re not from around here. Where are you from and how’d you get here?” He asked, turning his head away and hiding his face, breathing heavily.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to see to his wounds and make sure he was okay, but with Jason it was always better to be cautious and answer questions first. He would likely disappear on him, even injured, if he didn’t like the situation.

“I’m from a different dimension. I believe my earth is earth 76. I do not know which earth this is.” Bruce explained in a flat tone. “I’m here because of an explosion at Wayne Tech. We were experimenting with teleportation technology when the machine started to backfire. I went to go help and woke up here instead,”

Jason sighed and rested his head against the ground, chin turned away from Bruce. “Okay great. You’re a different Bruce. Why’d you step in?”

How could he explain it, that painful longing ache just for Jason to show him his face, for him to catalogue how beautiful he would have been if he had the chance to grow up, why did he keep hiding his face? Bruce wanted nothing more than to grab it and look down at it with it held between his hands, even if they might be nearly the same height now.

“I couldn’t stand by and let you be hurt,” Jason scoffed at that, “ and I just wanted to see you. No, I needed to see you. I… I miss you. So much. Every single day and night. I miss you. And you’re not my Jason, I know that. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to just see your face.” Bruce confessed, words he would never normally say out loud, but words he needed to. Before he woke up back at Waynetech and this dream all slipped away.

Jason snorted, tilting his face towards Bruce and the streetlight, a cold and cruel smile on his face, cloudy teal eyes locked onto his.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Bruce?” He spat his name with such vitriol. The light caught his pale and gaunt appearance. A deep gash was along his nose, another by his chin, skin littered with soft white scars that were hardly noticeable until you saw the sheen of them when he moved, and the most obvious of them all. A burn mark. A brand. In the shape of a J.

There was scarring around it, as if someone had tried to scratch it off but failed.

And Bruce, all he could do was gasp. He took a step forwards, Jason flinching and stepping back. Bruce noticed and stopped, hands up in the air, waiting for Jason to come to him.

“God, look at you. You’re so beautiful.” Bruce said with a smile, a tiny one at the corner of his lips as he stared at Jason’s face.

Jason flinched again, raising his head to look directly at him. “Beautiful? Have you gone senile, old man? Fucking look at me! Do you not see these scars, do you not see this?” Jason roared, slipping a knife from his belt and tracing it along the brand.

Bruce slowly reached forwards, wrapping his hand around the knife and gently pulling it away. “Yes and I’m so sorry, you never deserved any of that. I don’t know what happened, but it’s something that never ever should have. It doesn’t make you ugly or worth less. It means you’re strong. You’re a survivor.” Bruce whispered.

Jason dropped the knife, it clattering against the ground, and slumped forwards, his head pressed into the crook of Bruce’s shoulder. He started to sob, large deep gulps as tears leaked through Bruce’s suit jacket. “I’m not. I’m not. I’m exactly what he made me. He made me a killer and he made me kill you.” Jason whispered between sobs, wrapping a hand tightly around the lapels of Bruce’s jacket. Bruce hugged him tightly to his chest, running a hand through his hair and along the scars on the back of his head.

“You’re still here. You’re still alive. So what if you’re a killer? You did what you had to. Yes it disappoints me, but not for the reason you think.” Bruce said, cupping Jason’s head in both his hands and lifting it so it was looking up at him. “It disappoints me that you had no choice in it. That you were made to be one by someone else. If it wasn’t for whatever it is you went through, could you honestly say you would have made the same choices?”

Jason shook his head, sniffling. God didn’t he look exactly like he did as a kid? Showing up outside the house crying and trying to hide it all, pretending like he was fine. He could see that now, this Jason trying to get it all under control. As if crying was weak. Weakness was never facing your emotions or problems at all, letting them overcome you so thoroughly that one day you just break. You break and never get back up because you don’t know how. This is a miracle. The fact that Jason feels and felt comfortable enough to cry around him is a genuine miracle and Bruce is so grateful for every second of it.

“Whatever happened, whatever you did, I forgive you. I’m just happy you’re here. Alive.” Bruce whispered, stroking Jason’s cheek.

Jason laughed wetly and rolled his eyes. “Since when did you become so sappy?” He said, aiming for snide but just coming off as sad and amused.

“Since I went to therapy.” Bruce said with a slight chuckle.

At that Jason drew back, mouth open. “You? In therapy?! That’s insane! You’re definitely not a Bruce Wayne or Batman then.”

Bruce chuckled yet again, shrugging his shoulders. “I know it seems unlikely but I couldn’t keep burying it any more. My life was spinning out of control so I found someone. When I find a way back, do you want to come meet them?”

“Wait. Do you mean go with you, to your universe?” Jason asked, tone incredulous.

Bruce nodded once. “Correct. I would like for you to come with me, unless you’re happy here?”

“Nope. Definitely not happy here but also this is Gotham. The closest thing to happiness you get is cheap rent and cheaper whores.” Jason said with an eye roll.

Bruce sighed and kissed Jason’s forehead. “It’s okay, you can rest now. I’ll take care of your wounds.” He spoke softly, letting the kid fall asleep with his head on his chest.

“What the fuck?!” Anderson said, reminding Bruce that he was still there, and that backup was on the way.

Bruce turned his head to glare at the man, eyes cold and piercing, a question, no, a demand in them. He dared not open his mouth yet and disturb Jason. Not when he was clearly so injured that he could fall asleep in Bruce’s arms.

“It’s just, um,” Anderson swallowed and stared at Jason, “I didn’t know he was so young. Jesus Christ, my boss is a fucking child.” The soldier laughed slightly hysterically and ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head, the gun slung over his shoulder. “I’ve been taking orders from a kid. That’s insane. How old is he anyway?”

“Nineteen.” Bruce said, staring down at Jason and still stroking his hair. He wasn’t sure, not entirely, but his Jason would have been nineteen. This one looked around the same age. Maybe a little younger. He hoped it wasn’t younger. That he didn’t have to go through all that scaring at a young age.

“God, that’s, that’s just, wow.” Anderson muttered, shaking his head.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Bruce challenged, glaring at the man.

“Fuck yeah I do. A nineteen year old shouldn’t know how to lead an entire army and be one of the best snipers in the world. Hell, someone who’s over twenty five shouldn’t even have that role. And the fact that I watched a kid, a goddamn kid, kill several people including Bruce Fucking Wayne without hesitation? That just isn’t right.” Anderson said.

Bruce pursed his lips. That was something he definitely needed to find out more about. But for now, he had to get Jason safe and those wounds looked after.

“Do you have somewhere we can go? I imagine your boss really values his privacy so somewhere secluded without others but with medical equipment to treat his wounds.” Bruce inquired.

Anderson thought for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. There’s your old practice, Elliot. No one is in the hospital now. Not after Halloween and definitely not after Arkham City.”

Bruce didn’t have the time or energy to convince this man of his identity, so he just went along with it, sighing heavily. “Lead the way.”

Anderson nodded and picked up the broken helmet. “It’s just, no one has ever seen the boss without his helmet and I don’t think he would like it if we did.” He said, turning it in his hands.

Bruce nodded and kept Jason’s head pressed against his chest as he walked, the other hand holding tightly onto the stab wound. Jason was heavy. Really heavy actually, and most of it probably was the armour, but he was tall as well. His Jason was small and scrawny, the results of years of neglect and life on the streets.

He and Alfred always made sure to provide Jason with as much food as possible. He distantly wondered how well this Jason was eating. What was his diet like?

His mind returned to the man in front of him, watching every step with wary eyes as he led him down a side street and to a dented metal door.

“It’s locked.” Bruce stated, staring at the large padlock clamped down on the side entrance.

“And?” Anderson said, raising his gun and firing at the lock. The lock snapped and the bullet tinged, the scent of metal and fire strong in the air with ears still ringing from the gunshot. Anderson kicked the door open and walked inside, holding his gun in front of him.

Bruce tentatively followed behind, the ringing fading back into the comforting white noise of Jason’s breaths and the sensation of the hot air on his chest as he breathed in and out.

Their footsteps echoed on the tiles, white tiles covered in grime and a thin layer of mould or moss. The walls were crawling with spiderwebs and Bruce couldn’t help but observe. There was no way this place was sanitary enough to perform some emergency first-aid, but he didn’t exactly have many options.

He just had to trust this Anderson, which he was having an increasingly difficult time doing. Not that he trusted anyone to begin with but when it was Jason’s, and God didn’t that hurt to think about, safety on the line, trust was not a priority.

Water dripped down from the ceiling, plinking in the silence against the tiles. There was sparking of wires above them, and the quiet breaths coming from the three men. Jason’s skin was clammy and cold to the touch, the man not waking once as Bruce jostled him around.

Anderson led him to a room, stepping over a broken tile. The room itself was a standard doctors office with a cabinet stocked full of half empty medication and medical equipment.

He grunted as he set Jason down on the bed, eyes skipping over the equipment left behind. He was surprised it was still here given the state of the rest of the building.

Anderson caught the movement, chuckling. “Yeah people kept hearing this place was haunted and there was a whole incident with anyone coming in turning up dismembered. So people stayed far away but whoever or whatever had camped here is gone now.” He explained as he grabbed some iodine from the cabinet.

Bruce just nodded, taking it from Anderson and setting it next to him. “Help me undress him. I need to examine his wounds.” He ordered as he gently pushed Jason up, unclipping the armour plating from Jason’s chest.

It took him and Anderson nearly ten minutes to strip off the uniform. Bruce’s blood ran cold a second time as he saw the scars littering Jason’s skin like a Jackson Pollock. Each piece of flesh inked with a different brush stroke of pain, whether that be burns or the puckering of skin from an impact or even the Lichtenberg scars that ran along his ribs, the needle marks on the arms, hundreds of them all fighting for a place on his flesh.

Bruce had to purse his lips and adopt the stoic mask of Batman once again. This was just another victim. ‘Work it through, Bruce, start with disinfecting the wound. Stitch and cover it, then examine them for any other wounds. One task at a time.’ He had to coach himself through every movement, carefully stitching and bandaging the knife wound.

He thought he felt a broken rib, but he couldn’t tell without an x-ray. He took precautions and bound it anyway to keep the bone from shifting. He then very carefully cleaned the cuts on Jason’s face, trying not to stare at it. Anderson wasn’t even trying to be subtle about the fact that he was watching him like a hawk. The man would grunt or let out a sigh with every movement he felt was too rough or wrong in some way, the mercenaries arms crossed over his chest the entire time.

Bruce picked up a pair of tweezers, carefully removing shards of the broken helmet from Jason’s skin, apologising under his breath the entire time.

When he was finished with everything, he slumped back against the wall, staring at Jason’s still sleeping form.

Anderson sat down next to him, one arm resting on his knee as his messy brown hair laced with strands of grey around the temple stuck up on end. “What’s your deal? You clearly care about the kid but knowing your history and all, I didn’t think you’d be able to care about anyone.” He said to Bruce.

And Bruce, he was just so tired. Tired of everything, of fighting his sons, of fighting back the waves of grief and relief, of the anxiety and anticipation, knowing that his son was delirious when he spoke to him earlier, that fear of rejection creeping up on him. What if Jason hated him so much that when he finally came back to his rightful mind he pushed him away and he lost his only chance to save a version of his son all over again? But most of all he was exhausted of the fact that he had to hide who he really was, and lie to the world and everyone in it.

So, he decided to tell the truth. “I’m not Elliot. I am Bruce Wayne just from a different world and in my world, that boy on that bed,” Bruce nodded towards Jason, “was my son. I don’t care that this is someone else. I’m not leaving him. Look at him, so young and so damaged. This world isn’t good for him, clearly, and if I can make his life that little bit better, I will.”

Anderson nodded along. “Your story is fucking insane and I don’t know if I believe you or not. Had it been even a year ago I would just laugh but since then we’ve had militia cities, a woman that makes plants grow instantly, a monster clown, and everything in between. I might just accept the story cause you clearly care for him and it’s a sentiment I can get behind. Sure I don’t have any kids of my own, but like hell am I gonna sit back and watch one suffer. Specially not my own goddamn boss. Despite everything, he’s good to us. Feeds us well and pays us even better. Makes sure we’re looked after. Most other employers would never even consider that. Hell, when I worked in a factory that was more of a battle for survival than this is. And I’m fucking armed.”

“I noticed.” Bruce muttered, glancing at the gun slung over Anderson’s shoulder.

Anderson barked out a laugh. “You seem like a decent enough guy, Bruce, but like hell am I trusting a stranger with that boy’s life. And if you end up anything like the one we had, well, I’ll put you in the ground myself. Deal?” He had a sharp smile as he held out his hand.

Bruce debated his options, quickly discovering that he didn’t really have any. Especially not knowing how this universe's Bruce ended up. But whatever that was, must not have been very good given both Anderson and Jason’s glowing reviews.

Eventually he shook Anderson’s hand. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

The rain pattered against the ceiling, hitting sheets of plasterboard with heavy thuds as the grey clouds above provided the only source of light, a cover over one end of the magnolia apartment and brown carpets. A white floral couch with several bullet holes and slashes patched over with duct tape was occupied by Bruce. A hand wrapped around a chipped Batman mug with a broken handle, he sipped the coffee in silence.

Anderson sat next to him, cleaning his piece. With a rag in hand and gun oil by his foot. The quiet scraping and patter of the rain was their only sound track.

That and the click of the door. It creaked open, steam billowing out and filling the room with heat and moisture.

“Fuck.” Jason stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist. He stared at Bruce and Anderson, a hand gripping the towel. He had forgotten they were here. In fact, he didn’t even remember when or how they got here.

He vaguely remembered shapes and movement, his last clear memory being Nightwing.

Streetlamps flickered as heavy boots paced the streets, plastic and metal armour plating scraping against each other with each movement. Eyes glowed white as they observed the darkness. Movement caught on the HUD within the helmet, the flash of red coming as it switched over to investigation mode. The dark revealed a skeletal form. No, several, all stumbling in the dark.

The Arkham Knight cursed under his breath, whipping out the double pistols and aiming them at the dark. He fired twice, purposely going wide just to alert the people there. Hopefully they would scatter rather than attack. This part of the city is where most of the criminals, drug dealers, rapists, thieves, congregated. They were either superstitious cowards or far too brave for their own good and with the loss of Batman, he was the monster that haunted these streets.

The people didn’t run, instead they turned towards him, charging headfirst. He fired thrice, hitting two and dropping them instantly. The third one slipped through and hit his legs. Bastard got real lucky, barrelling right into his weak ankle. Pain from the poorly healed break shot through him and forced him to take a step back to catch his balance.

This gave the attacker enough room to take a swing at him. He brought his arms up, catching their wrist between his and shoving them back, driving a shoulder right into their neck. As he shoved them, he caught sight of wild dilated eyes. Damn fear junkies, always getting hopped up on the stuff and ruining his day. Guess it was kind of his fault. There are still areas of the city where the gas lingers and every so often groups of people get caught in it and the cycle of fear and violence starts all over again. Thank god he had installed those air filters. Sure they don’t do much against this new stuff, but they certainly don’t leave him a drooling screaming mess like this lot.

The fear junkie ran at him again, shrieking. A scream cut off by a gunshot, the bullet right between their eyes and putting them out of their misery. Good thing too, they probably would have started trying to rip off their own skin too. Seems this group was hit several minutes ago.

He stiffened as he felt a presence behind him. He whirled around a fraction too late to miss the blade sliding through the gap in his armour. It cut right through the weak point where plating met and separated. The pain didn’t even register as Jason slammed the butt of the gun into the nose of his attacker.

The attacker hissed and stumbled back, holding their nose and glaring at him, shouting something about making him pay for ripping his friends and family apart.

He switched out of detective mode and back into the every day view and was greeted with a black and blue that was all too familiar. Goddamn golden boy, now he had to deal with him as a fucking fear junkie? Yeah right. Not when he just had a damn knife in his side.

Jason’s eyes flicked down to his side that felt wet and burning. And would you look at that, it was a fucking birdarang. Goddamn Dick and his weird names and weapons. Why he couldn’t just use a dagger like the rest of them, why’d it have to have a stupid theme?

He stumbled back, pressing the radio call on his helmet. “This is the Knight. I need backup, now.” He snapped, voice modulator carrying it through the lines. He rattled off his estimated location as he sprinted down the street. He had to get away from Nightwing and deal with this stupid wound first before he could even think of taking the birdie down. He could just shoot him now but he didn’t really want to kill the man. That would just put Robin and Oracle on his back again which he certainly didn’t need right now.

So he turned and ducked into an alleyway, away from the main road and the raving Nightwing.

Right, the attack. And then Thomas Elliot turned up claiming he was Bruce. Bruce from another dimension. The Bruce sat on his couch staring at him right now.

Fuck. He vaguely remembered giving them directions to his safe house. Well, as safe as a place in the Bowery can get. The packs of fear junkies and militia outside tend to keep any trouble away. Trouble that was now apparently sitting in his apartment staring at his chest.

He looked down at his chest, as if remembering the many scars that littered it. He never did get used to them, he never could look at himself in the mirror. Every mirror in the place was smashed to pieces or covered up. He licked his lips and walked past the two men, stepping straight into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

Fuck. He can’t believe he was careless enough to let not one but two people see him. He can’t remember anything much that happened before but he’s pretty sure he cried.

He screamed and threw a fist at the wall, going straight through cheap drywall, dust surrounding his arm and filling the room. How weak could he be?! He was pathetic, a broken little thing that should just be put down. No, no. That would be giving in. Whatever, guess he just had to kill Elliot or Bruce or whoever the fuck he was and Anderson. No one would see him cry. Ever.

He changed into his Arkham Knight outfit, it was practically a second skin by now, and pulled his helmet on. He wasn’t going to let anyone who saw his scars live to tell the tale either.

He grabbed his guns and checked the chambers before switching the safety off and stepping out of the room.

“Going somewhere?” The Bruce look-alike who claimed he was Bruce or something, honestly Jason didn’t care enough to keep the story straight, had the audacity to ask.

That ripped a chuckle from Jason’s throat. He raised the gun and aimed it at Bruce’s head. “No, but you’re going straight to hell old man. You really think I’d just let you lie to me and play one big happy family all because you claim to be the one person I regret putting a bullet between their eyes?!” He snapped, a cruel laugh filtering through the helmet.

Bruce drew in a deep breath at that and sighed. “If that’s how you feel, then so be it. I won’t convince you not to kill me so long as it does truly help you on the road to happiness or at the very least contentment. I never lied, Jason, but I don’t know how I can prove my take either beyond explaining that I know nothing about what happened between you and your Bruce, but I am sure you had a reason for your actions.”

The stilled Jason. He chewed on his lip beneath the mask, thankful for the millionth time it didn’t show his face. Elliot would never care about anyone but himself and his Bruce wouldn’t be so open about his feelings. Not to mention the fact that his Bruce is still very much dead. He visited his grave just last week, and there was no signs of zombies around.

He let out a sigh and flicked the safety on, holstering the gun. “Fine! So what now? You need to go home or whatever the fuck so how do you plan on doing that?” Jason asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not sure, but I would like you to come with me. If you—“ Bruce started to say but was cut off by a bright light. It enveloped the room and everyone within.

It flashed, blinding them all and bringing back a wave of nausea for Jason. He was way too familiar with nausea and he despised it. The way it reminded him of the taste of rotting rat of his tongue, of the burning liquid in his veins or pulls that made him want to empty the contents of his stomach, and so often did. He was going to kill whoever brought those memories back and make them pay for whatever the fuck they’d just done.

When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in a laboratory surrounded by scientists and one Lucius Fox. Ah Lucius, he missed him, if only for the fact that he made getting new tech so much easier. Nowadays Jason just had to invent and build that shit himself. Took way too long and way too much money for his liking. So much easier just to have someone else do it for you.

“Excellent, it appeared to have worked. Welcome back Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said. Bruce still had the coffee cup in his hand, before nodding to him.

“Thank you Lucius but what exactly did you do?” Bruce asked.

“We followed the signal and energy of the explosion back and tracked it to a different earth, then with the help of those at STAR Labs, we assembled a machine that allowed us to pull whoever was at the location where the latent energy was back into our universe. But it seems the machine wasn’t specific enough to focus on just you.” Lucius explained.

“You got that fucking right. You need to send us back.” Anderson snapped, stepping forwards with his gun still in hand. Honestly, Jason had forgotten he was there. He hadn’t even noticed he came with them. Hopefully he would keep his mouth shut about Jason, otherwise he might have to silence him. He didn’t want Lucius seeing him and looking at him with that same pity everyone did. Or fear.

“Unfortunately we can’t. It only works one way. I’m sorry Mr…” Lucius trailed over, gesturing at Anderson.

“Anderson. The name is Sgt James Anderson.” Anderson replied.

“Anderson. I do hope you weren’t holding my employer hostage.” Lucius joked with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

Jason snorted and rolled his eyes behind the mask. “If anything he was basically holding us hostage. Showed up and wouldn’t leave even if it would’ve been better for his health if he did.” He said, faking bitterness and begrudgment in his modulated voice.

“I see. Well I am certain Mr. Wayne will be happy to provide temporary accommodation.” Lucius said.

“More than temporary. Arkham Knight is coming with me. Anderson, I’ll find you a hotel.” Bruce said, turning to them both.

“No way. I told you I’m not leaving you with him, and I’m not even now. Fact is I don’t trust you Mr. Wayne and I don’t trust this place. I’m not letting my employer be hurt again.” Anderson snapped. That was honestly touching; the way the man seemed to care.

It felt kind of weird. “You heard the man Bruce. I’m sure you got room.”

“Are you sure this is wise?” Lucius asked at the same time Bruce said,

“Yes. I have room. It’s a deal.” Bruce then turned a glare onto Lucius. “This is my decision. If Sgt. James Anderson insists he’s coming with me then I won’t argue with him. I know what I’m doing, Lucius. Call Alfred and we’ll sort this out. Thank you.” Bruce stated, turning around and walking out of the laboratory doors.

Jason had nothing better to do than follow. He was really nervous at the prospect of meeting Alfred. He refused to take off this helmet until someone forcefully pried it off. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in Alfred’s eyes of all people when he saw how weak and pathetic Jason had become.

Chapter Text

The car rumbled along gravel and asphalt, twisting through forests of concrete and glass and onto open fields of grass. Anderson was sat next to Bruce who was driving, hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

In the back, with a bag full of clinking armour, was Jason. His feet were tucked up onto the seat, knees against his chest and head buried in his knees. Bruce would tell him off, say it wasn’t safe to be sitting like that, especially since Jason absolutely refused to put on a seatbelt, but Jason seemed to be one wrong word away from pulling out a gun and shooting him. Which was fine, he’d been shot before, but he didn’t want Jason to get hurt or live with that guilt. He was clearly still feeling very guilty over whatever happened between him and his Bruce. He flinched whenever he saw Bruce or said the name, and he refused to talk about it or anything much for that matter.

Jason had a hoodie borrowed from some employee, he’d have to ask Lucius to get it back to them, drawn over his head. It was a monumental challenge to get Jason to change, let alone come out of the bathroom and to the car. It had taken twenty minutes of waiting by the door and Anderson to finally bang on the door and order Jason to get in the car for them to finally get anywhere. Jason hid his face and hands the entire time. He had managed to get him into one of his spare suits. Wasn’t that strange and gut wrenching to think of? Jason, the tiny scrawny little kid fitting in Bruce’s suits.

If it weren’t for Jason’s poor posture he was certain he’d be almost as tall as him. He was sure that had a story too but Jason wouldn’t explain any of it. Every time Bruce asked, he would clamp up and shut down, staring in silence at nothing for hours or suddenly switching to holding a gun against Bruce’s head. So he just stayed silent now, it was better.

Anderson though, he wouldn’t tolerate any of it. Whenever Bruce asked too many questions he would say “do you really need to know that? It’s not any of your business now is it?” And Bruce was always so tempted to respond with the fact that it was, that Jason was his son, but Anderson kept reminding him that Jason wasn’t. This was a different Jason with a different Bruce. They were practically strangers, just with familiar faces.

Jason raised his head as the iron gates came into view, nails digging into his arms as Bruce not so subtly watched through the rear view mirror.

“Hey, this had to happen sometime. What, you were just never gonna go home or whatever in our universe?” Anderson said to Jason with a snort. Jason sighed and turned his head away, but stopped dragging his broken nails across his skin. “I assume this is home. No one has actually told me shit.”

“Yes this is home. For me at least. I have a butler,” Anderson snorted at Bruce’s words, “named Alfred, my sons are Dick who is visiting right now,” the name drew another disbelieving snort, “Tim, Damian, and Duke. I also have a daughter called Cassandra and her girlfriend Stephanie practically lives with us now.”

Jason raised his head further at that, looking at Bruce as he explained the home situation. “You’re insane. Every version of you just can’t stop picking up kids, huh?”

Bruce chuckled at that, pulling into the manor driveway. “I suppose not. We also have a woman called Barbara that comes to visit a lot. She works with us and often comes around. The house always felt empty before, now with the kids and the pets, not so much.”

“Pets? You didn’t mention them. What pets do you have?” Anderson asked, bolting upright and staring Bruce down.

“There’s two dogs, Ace and Titus, Alfred the cat, and a cow.” Bruce said.

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “Fuckin rich people.” He muttered.

“They’re my son’s. Damian loves animals, he convinced me to let him keep them.” Bruce replied with a faint smile on his lips.

He parked in the driveway, opening the door and getting out. The front door to the house opened with Damian standing in it, holding Alfred to his chest.

“Father! I demand to know where you have been!” Damian cried out in typical Damian fashion which roughly translated to worry and missing him.

Bruce walked over and ruffled his hair, Damian batting away his hand. “There was an accident at work. I ended up someplace else but I’m fine. I also brought some guests back so be nice.”

As soon as he mentioned guests, he heard a voice call out “who are they?!” In Dick’s voice. He could see in the hallway was the rest of the kids crowded around, apart from Tim and Cass. Cass was likely still out on her mission with Steph and Tim was with young justice.

Bruce glanced behind him, watching as Anderson stepped outside of the car.

“Now young masters, let’s not crowd our guests. Back inside.” Alfred chided, pushing through the wave of bodies and towards the front. His scolding lasted only a second before the others managed to all slip outside past him, waiting for Bruce to introduce them.

Anderson was still trying to coax Jason out of the car.

“Anderson, go introduce yourself to the kids. I’ll get Jason.” Bruce told him, but had the undertones of an order. Something Anderson did not take lightly.

“I won’t do as you ordered simply because you ordered it. Let me make this very clear, I am not a soldier for you to order around. You are not my boss or my priority. The only reason I’m doing as you asked is because I genuinely want to meet these kids, not because you told me to. Do not tell me what to do ever again unless it is a life or death situation.” Anderson snapped and shoved Bruce with his shoulder as he passed, walking up to the kids.

Bruce sighed and made his way over to the car, slowly opening the door. “Come on Jason, don’t you want to meet everyone?”

Jason scoffed and shook his head. “No. Why would I want to meet the family I don’t have? Come on Bruce, I don’t belong here. I’ll probably kill em all in their sleep. You don’t want me around.”

“Would you?” Bruce asked softly.

“Would I what?” Jason asked.

“Kill them. In their sleep?”

Jason turned his head away and huffed. “That’s not the point. I could if I wanted. I killed my Bruce and nearly killed my Tim. I also arranged for Dick’s death. Not my fault Cobblepot fucked that up. Crane was also meant to take out Tim but he couldn’t do that either.”

That was new. And a rather frightening revelation. It’s good Jason was talking but he wanted to know more, and knew better than to push his luck. If he did Jason would shut down again and say nothing at all.

“Okay but you didn’t. Even when Dick was attacking you you could have killed him. You had a gun within your reach and not once did you pull it on him. I trust you, you should trust yourself. Now come on, they won’t go away if you just sit here. They’re more stubborn than I am sometimes.” Bruce said, holding out his hand.

Jason scoffed and grabbed it, stepping out of the car. “Really? More stubborn than even you? I find that hard to believe.”

Bruce chuckled quietly. “It’s true. One time I was injured and tried to get back to work so they systematically locked me in the house and out of every single system until I recovered. I never did find a way around them.”

Jason laughed quietly at the story, limping slightly as he trailed behind Bruce.

“Hey Bruce! I like this guy. Where’d you find him?” Dick asked, jabbing a thumb at Anderson as they approached. “And who’s this?”

Jason flinched and looked away, keeping his head low and shoulders hunched.

“Now now Master Dick. I do believe we are crowding our new guests. It is perhaps best we went inside.” Alfred said, attempting to herd everyone back into the house.

“Nah it’s alright. I just, I don’t like people seeing my face.” Jason muttered.

“Well I’m sure you’re not uglier than Dick.” Duke said with a wry smile. Recently the other members, Tim in particular, had started to get Duke to tease the others. Especially Damian and Dick. Duke was still quite unsure of his place in the family, but he was gradually becoming more and more comfortable. It was good to see.

Jason laughed slightly and reached up to lower his hood. “I guess you’re right. I was always the prettiest Robin.” He said with a wry grin as he raised his head, looking at Dick and Alfred, mostly ignoring the others.

Dick gasped and launched himself at Jason, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

“Fuck!” Jason hissed, to which several people said, “language.”

“I broke my ribs a few days ago and you’re goddamn octopus hugs aren’t fucking helping!” Jason snapped, shoving Dick back.

Dick looked sufficiently cowed, taking a step back and muttering an apology. “It’s just you…. I thought I’d never see you again and you’re dead and I missed the funeral and I’m so sorry and oh god little wing your alive and,” Dick started to stutter while Jason turned his head away, “let me look at you!”

Jason took a step back, reaching for the knife Bruce knew was hidden in the waistband of his trousers. He couldn’t take every weapon away from Jason, not if he wanted to keep all his fingers, so he let him keep a few. Much to his own chagrin.

The entire time Jason had had the side of his face with the scar turned away from them, making sure no one saw it.

“Fuck off Dick.” Jason hissed, venom in his words and his side glare as he kept a hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife.

“I think that’s enough of that.” Alfred said, gently pushing Dick towards the house. “You should show Mr. Anderson around while I prepare lunch.”

Anderson nodded, strolling through the door. “Yeah let’s go. This place looks huge, probably need at least seven tours before I find my way around.” He said as he stroked the cat in Damian’s arms on his way past, awarding him the honour of having the kid trail after him.

Bruce stayed near Jason, taking a step back and giving him some distance as Alfred approached. Bruce stopped him right before he did, whispering to him to explain the situation.

“I found him on a different earth. He and Anderson ended up here by accident but he isn’t our Jason. He won’t talk about what happened but whatever it was must have been pretty bad. He’s also ashamed and hates his face, electing to hide it constantly and removing all mirrors in his apartment.” Bruce whispered into Alfred’s ear. The man just nodded along as Jason scuffed his shoe against the cobblestone drive.

Alfred then carefully approached, Jason dropping his hand away from the knife completely.

“Master Jason—“ Alfred started to say but stopped as Jason flinched.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not— you don’t know what I did. I don’t deserve that title.” Jason said, keeping his head down.

Alfred took a step forwards, putting a hand under Jason’s chin and lifting his head. He didn’t flinch or make a sound as he saw the scars, but Bruce saw the way his eyes lingered on that brand for a moment too long, not that Jason seemed to notice. He was too busy avoiding his gaze.

“Pardon my language but that is rubbish. I don’t care about what you did or didn’t do. You will always be a young master to me, no matter where you come from.” Alfred said.

“So you know, that I’m not yours?” Jason asked, tentatively looking at Alfred and searching for any tell of anger or disappointment. But all Bruce could see under that stoic mask was concern and heartbreak.

“I know and I do not care. You’re always welcome here no matter what. Whatever you think you did, there are people here that have likely done worse, myself included.”

Jason snorted and rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt that. You don’t know my story. I’m a danger to be around. Both you and Bruce should put me down before I put you down.” He said coldly, ripping his head away from Alfred’s touch and going to the car. He pulled out the bag and stalked past the both of them, going straight into the manor.

Alfred looked at Bruce, concern in his eyes. Bruce grunted and crossed his arms.

“Explain to me everything you know.” Alfred demanded.

“I don’t know much. Jason refuses to talk about it, all I know is he killed his Bruce Wayne and almost killed Dick and Tim. He mentioned working with Penguin and Scarecrow but that’s it. That’s everything I know. Anderson might be more forthcoming but he’s loyal to his boss. He won’t say anything that’ll betray that. You’ll like him, he insisted on coming along to look after Jason. And said I don’t own him.” Bruce said with a wry smile and twinkle in his eye, an expression Alfred almost matched in his own way.

“You are correct. I think I may just like him. You talk to him and see what you can learn while I prepare lunch and a more familiar room for Master Jason.” Alfred said.

“Don’t. Put him up in the spare room for now. He insists on not being my Jason and I don’t think we should treat him like he is for now. It will just make him edgy and uncomfortable. I’ll talk to Dick about it. He’s probably latched onto Jason again and gotten himself stabbed.” Bruce said as he walked inside to go try and track Jason down.

Chapter Text

Long hallways stretched before him like a ghost. Everywhere he turned he expected to see ash falling from the sky, every footstep he took he listened for the crackle of fire and shattering of glass.

The sky was filled with ash, the one dry night in a span of nothing but rain. Fire leapt up, heat searing his skin as sat amongst the cracking timbers, the smell of gasoline strong in his nostrils and the lighter still in his hand. Next to him lay a body, still untouched by the embers that threatened to sear his skin and sparks popping around him.

Bruce, still in his Batman suit, with the cowl discarded for all the world to see the madness lurking behind his eyes. The laughter still rang in Jason’s ears. It shouldn’t be there, it shouldn’t have come out of Bruce’s mouth, not like that. Jason’s hands trembled, the lighter tumbling from them as he bent his head back and screamed, howled into the air. He thought he wanted this. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? The bullet hole between Bruce’s eyes still wet and gleaming, the mist of blood and brain matter on Jason’s fingers and face, this was meant to take that pain and hate away.

He was meant to be free. Instead he just felt emptier than before.

He screamed until his voice went hoarse, the material on his suit bursting into flame. Hands grabbed him and dragged him backwards. He fought to get them off. He wanted that release of the flame. It’s all that was left for him now, he had nothing more to live for, not that he was living to begin with. He was done with this non-existence, he was done with being empty and hollow and broken. He tried to pry them off, tried to escape, but they were holding on too tightly. A hand brushed through his hair, gently shushing him. And he clung to the man as tightly as he could, still trying to scream with tears running down his face and the blood in his eyes.

Jason was jolted out of the memory, knife at someone’s throat as they spoke to him. He slowly lowered it as he saw who it was. Dick. The one person besides Tim and Alfred he really didn’t want to see.

“Hey. Alfred fixed you up a room but you can have your old one if you like.” Dick said with a friendly smile.

Jason knew it was forced. It had to be. No one would be nice to the broken creature with a knife at their throat unless they felt pity or had to be. Dick could take his pity and shove it up his ass.

“I don’t want to sleep in that room. That room isn’t mine.” Jason huffed, turning his head away. Dick still hadn’t spotted the brand. Good. He had tried to cut it off before but every time he did that laughter whispered in his ear, reminding him of the only thing he was good for, of what he really was, a pet that belonged to the joker. And every time he grew so nauseated the blade would fall from his hand and he would heave right there. He didn’t want anyone to know who he belonged to, he didn’t want Dick especially to look at him with those eyes of pity or sadness or whatever the fuck he decided he felt for Jason. It was all fake anyway. He wasn’t their Jason. They didn’t know the first thing about him.

Dick nodded and led him down the room. He clutched the bag tightly to his side, matching pace with Dick despite the pain that still blossomed in his ankle and knees. Dick opened a door in the guest wing. The room was rather plain, with beige walls and white bedding, oak floors and white curtains, minimal decorations, it felt perfect. A little too luxurious for his liking but it was significantly better than staying in their Jason’s room. Then he would really feel like a ghost wandering these halls where he doesn’t belong.

He dropped the bag on the floor, moving around the room and thoroughly inspecting it.

“What are you doing?” Dick asked as he watched him pull the chest of drawers out from the wall.

“Looking for bugs and cameras.” Jason said matter of factly. He didn’t want Bruce checking up on him every five seconds. Paranoid motherfucker, probably slipped something in a drink just to track where he was at any moment. Or at least that’s what his Bruce would probably do.

Wait, what was that look Dick was giving him? Was it fucking pity? Again?!

“What?!” Jason snapped, glaring at him. “Are you really telling me he wouldn’t bug me or my room just to track wherever the fuck I am? You telling me the old man got less paranoid?”

This time Dick looked away, scratching the back of his neck and staring at the floor. “Uh no, if anything he’s a lot more, but it’s okay. He doesn’t mean to be malicious. Besides, he hasn’t had time to go through it.”

Jason snorted and went back to searching. “Yeah like he hasn’t got this whole house wired. You hear that Bruce? I’m not fucking taking any of this!” He snapped, kicking the chest of drawers. Fucking hypocrites. Especially Bruce. All his talk of safety and whatever yet he sends kids out to die on the streets or leaves them in Arkham.

Dick was staring at him in abject horror, mouth hanging open. Fuck, did he say that out loud? He could never tell what was real and what wasn’t anymore.

“You were in Arkham?!” Dick squeaked.

Jason let out a cold and mirthless laugh, grinning widely and turning so he directly faced Dick, taking quick strides forwards and slamming him again the wall. Oh he loved the look of fear in this kids eyes. Good. He should be afraid.

“Yeah, I was. Spent over a year in the basement with that sick fuck who likes to call himself a clown. When I got out it was probably closer to three but hey, who’s counting? I certainly wasn’t. Not when I didn’t see daylight that whole time. Only light I saw was that of a branding iron.” He turned the brand towards Dick, savouring the terror hidden on Golden Boy’s face. “Like it? Yeah, Joker made sure everyone knew I was his property. His lost puppy.” Jason started to laugh, taking a step back and putting his hands on his knees as he kept laughing, the sound reverberating in his skull. “Isn’t it pretty?” He wasn’t sure who said that, him or Joker. He could practically feel the clammy fingers snaking over his skin, taste the man’s acrid breath, eyes burning from the scent of chemicals that constantly lingered on his skin.

“Jason…” Dick whispered, taking a step forwards.

Jason had a knife brandished in a second, slicing it at Dick. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’ll take your fingers and feed it to the rats. Now get out of here golden boy, before I take your eyes too!” He shouted, spitting at the man. Was that blood on his lips? When did he bite through his tongue?

The door slammed shut, leaving Jason alone. He dropped the knife and collapsed onto the bed, still laughing.

It felt wrong. It was too soft. Far too soft. He rolled off of it and crawled onto the floor, underneath the bed. Much better. The darkness and dampness under here felt good. It felt right. And the dust choking his lungs, spiderwebs in his hair, that felt right too. That’s how it should be. Even if he did just barely fit underneath the raised bed.

He closed his eyes, staying there until the laughter ringing in his head faded away, and still stayed there longer.

He heard voices outside the door. Anderson. “Bruce, go sit down and eat your sandwich. Spend some time with your fucking kids, we’ll deal with this one.”

Good. He wasn’t worried about hurting Anderson. He could defend himself and absolutely would. If it came to him or Jason, he would choose himself first unlike everyone else in this house. Probably. If they were anything like his family, they were all self-sacrificing bastards. The good and bad thing about mercenaries is they certainly weren’t. Their number one is them and themselves only. Nobody else filled the spot of number two. Jason was probably number ten at the very most.

The door opened and a set of footsteps entered, followed by a second. Fuck. He said ‘we’ didn’t he? Who else was here? Probably one of the new kids come to laugh at him or beat him up.

“Boss? You mind coming out so we can have a chat?” Anderson asked.

Yes Jason absolutely minded. He didn’t respond.

“Okay. Then I’ll talk anyway.” Anderson said, his feet stepping around the bed and to the wall. “You mind telling me why you attacked the kid?”

“Because it was funny. It felt good to see him so scared.” Jason muttered.

“Why was it funny?” Anderson asked.

“I dunno… it wasn’t actually. It made me kinda sick but it liked it a lot.” He replied.

“It? What is this ‘it’ you speak of, Master Jason?” Alfred asked from the other side of the bed. Shit, it was Alfred in here with him? Alfred was probably the one person he always wanted to avoid hurting. He was good to him, really good, and never did him any wrong.

The little voice in his head whispered about how easy it would be to snap his neck. “It’s… I dunno. I dunno how to explain it but it’s like I’m not alone in here. I got something else living in my head and it often laughs at me and spurs me on when I do violent shit.”

Anderson hummed non-committedly. “Okay. That makes a lot of sense actually. Sometimes it’s like you’re a totally different person, boss. But we can deal with that. You got, what, me a soldier who can damn well look after himself, the kid that I’m pretty sure is Nightwing, Bruce Wayne that I know is the bat, and all the other kids are probably trained or something too.”

“They are. And I can look after myself, Master Jason. You don’t need to be afraid of hurting us. We can look after ourselves.” Alfred chimed in.

Jason snorted again. “Yeah but would you? Golden boy didn’t even try to defend himself.”

“Because you didn’t actually hurt him. If he did, he would defend himself.” Alfred said.

“Plus the kid showed me that everybody carries around sedatives and stuff in case there’s an attack or fear gas or whatever the fuck. They can easily put you to sleep if you’re too much of a problem.” Anderson said.

That actually relieved Jason a lot. He hated the concept of being drugged, absolutely hated it, but it was better than accidentally attacking and killing someone he actually cared about. He couldn’t go through that again. He doesn’t think he would survive that.

He crawled out from under the bed, bones cracking as he stood up.

“May I ask why you were underneath the bed?” Alfred asked with one raised and stern eyebrow.

“Felt better than lying on it. Spent years sleeping on a hard surface or in a damp room.” Jason said matter of factly. Because it was. It was just a fact, it wasn’t a big deal to him. The sky was blue, fish lived in the ocean, Jason slept on the ground or in a chair.

Anderson nodded. He liked Anderson, he got it. He didn’t ask questions or pry and never said anything when Jason decided to attack or kill someone.

But it was Alfred that surprised him. “I understand. It is hard to get used to comfort and luxury again. Very well, I shall remove the mattress and prepare for you to sleep on the bed frame. Now, I must insist you go and have lunch while I do so.” Alfred said, ushering both Jason and Anderson out the door.

A hush fell over everyone as soon as he stepped into the living room. Jason pulled the hood back over his head, trying to hide from all the stares. Most averted their eyes apart from the youngest. Creepy little shit he was, eyes boring right into him as if he was reading his soul. If he was alone he would probably punt the fucker across the room.

He sat down in the chair furthest away from everyone, tucking his leg up onto the chair. Anderson handed him a plate with a sandwich on it. He shook his head, mumbling “I’m not hungry.”

Anderson huffed and gave it to him anyway. “I don’t care. You’re eating something, I don’t care if you peel off the crust and just eat that or take out the cucumber and munch on those. You are eating at least something. This is not negotiable.” He scolded.

Jason frowned and scoffed. Who was he to tell him what to do? After all, he was his mercenary. Not the other way around. He took a bite of the sandwich anyway. Not because Anderson told him, but because he felt awkward not eating. Yes, that was absolutely the reason.

Anderson turned his glare on Dick. “And you! Put away the fruit gushers! I see you sneaking those out. You’ll eat a cucumber sandwich too!”

Dick pouted. “I don’t want to. I don’t like cucumber.” He muttered.

“What are you, five? I don’t care. You’re eating it and you are not leaving this room until you do. Got it?” Anderson said, hands on his hips and glaring at him.

“Yeah Grayson. Do as you’re told.” Damian interjected with a smug grin.

Anderson turned on him, narrowing his eyes. “You should learn when not to make something your fight. Grayson doesn’t need to be told twice. Now if you’re done, take your plate into the kitchen and wash it up.”

“What?!” Damian shrieked. “I am not a servant! That is the job of Pennyworth!”

“Yeah and what’ll you do when Pennyworth is gone? Go, wash, your, plate.” Anderson said, pointing at the direction of the kitchen.

“You can’t tell me what to do, you have no authority over me.” Damian sniped back.

“No but I do know a special bird call that will get them to come to you and if you don’t do as I say, I won’t teach it to you.” Anderson threatened, arm still raised.

“How dare you! This is commination of the highest form!” Damian shouted, stalking off to the kitchen.

Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at the whole scene. Anderson slipped him a small smile before sitting on the couch next to Duke. Duke slid over to make room for him, even though that certainly wasn’t necessary given the size of the couch.

Jason set down his empty plate, not even noticing that he’d eaten it all. He’s felt too nauseous to eat before and yet he’d done so without even realising. He looked around, before cautiously pulling down the hood. He wasn’t sure about this Duke kid. He hoped he wasn’t like the brat, he could just see him saying something.

Duke took in a sharp inhale of air as he saw his face but thankfully didn’t say anything. The worst was the people that always asked him what happened. They usually didn’t ask a second time.

It wasn’t Duke that asked, but actually Dick. “What did happen? You said you were in Arkham. How?”

Jason snarled, baring his teeth at him as he heard the laughter crawling through his mind again, feeling the ghost of the branding iron on his skin, flames spreading through his body and weighing heavier on his soul. That dirty feeling of hopelessness, of giving up. That moment was when he knew, just knew, that there was no escaping. Even if he got away, he would forever be Joker’s property.

“I think that’s a question saved for another day. But me, you can ask me any question you like. So long as it isn’t about my boss here.” Anderson said, jabbing a thumb at Jason who slumped back into his chair.

Duke choked on his water. “Sorry. Boss? Isn’t he like, 19? How old are you!?”

Anderson chuckled. “Don’t know how old the boss is but I’m 39. He was hiring and paying very well so I took the job. Don’t care what age my boss is so long as he’s a decent one. And so far, kid’s been pretty good to me. Especially compared to others I’ve worked for.”

“What is it you do, exactly?” Dick asked, clearly trying to pry information about Jason from Anderson.

“I’m a mercenary. I do lots of different jobs, bodyguarding, soldier work, other stuff like that. I do whatever I’m paid to do.” Anderson replied with a shrug.

“And what exactly were you doing for Jason?” Dick asked, leaning forwards.

“I told you, no questions about the boss.” Anderson replied with an amused chuckle. He saw the game too, not that it was a very subtle one.

“How’d you get into mercenary work?” Duke asked.

“I joined the army cause that’s the only thing you could do when I was younger if you wanted an education or to go anywhere, and got dishonourably discharged after rising through the ranks and doing several tours, found myself out of work with no one hiring ex military so I took up work where I could get it. Most of that being mercenary work. It’s what I could find so I took it. Didn’t have a wife or kids to go home to anyway so it’s not like I had a problem being away from home.” Anderson said casually, leaning back against the couch.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you discharged?” Duke asked.

“Oh, they caught me with a man. That was still a big No in the military so they kicked me out immediately. No way would they allow a senior officer to be gay! A crime against humanity.” Anderson said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he spoke.

“I didn’t know that’s why you were discharged. That sucks.” Jason said quietly. He didn’t pry into his soldiers' lives much. What they did was up to them and their past belonged in the past. He wasn’t about to be a hypocrite given that they didn’t even know his name.

“I guess but it’s not biggie to me. I’d much rather live as myself than hide a piece of me just for a job or country I don’t believe in any more. America lost my respect long ago.” Anderson said.

Damian returned, slumping into the couch next to Anderson, glaring at him. “You promised to teach me bird calls.” He demanded.

Anderson sighed and stood up. “So I did. Come on, let’s go outside and see if we can find some birds. You can bring your sketchbook if you want. I assume you have one given that you mentioned liking to draw.”

“Of course I have one. It does not suit oneself to be inadequately equipped. But I shall go grab it and draw these birds you claim you can summon.” Damian said, leaping off the couch and practically running to his room, attempting to make it look casual.

Jason laughed softly as he watched him go. Maybe the kid wasn’t all that bad. He could get used to him.

Chapter Text

Keys clicked in the darkness, bright white and blue lights sweeping over rocks and stalactites. A sharp wolf whistle came after the clicking of gears. Anderson strolled into the cave, hands in his pockets as he looked around. “Where I’m from everyone knew Bruce Wayne was Batman but he died well before anyone could see his cave. Everything went with him.”

“That’s why I called you down here.” Bruce said, turning to him in the full Batman suit sans cowl. “Tell me what happened. Jason keeps talking about killing me but won’t say anything more.” He had to know more. It wasn’t just a want, it was a need, if only so he knew how best to proceed with Jason.

“Yeah that was messy. Halloween night boss and the rest of the rogues teamed up. Scarecrow got the city evacuated thanks to some fear toxin of his and the rest carved the place up. We had outposts set up and stuff to control the bridges and the city and watch out for the bat.” Anderson started to explain, going over to the computer and examining it, whistling again as he saw the hardware.

“Things went wrong as they always do and the bat started to win. Stopped Scarecrows plan and the Knight went off the rails. Nobody knows what happened for sure but he confronted the bat and disappeared only to resurface at Arkham. See that’s where Scarecrow had taken Robin, and forced Batman to reveal his identity live on tv. Then scarecrow dosed him with fear toxin and things went really wrong from there on. The bat just started laughing and laughing, broke from his restraints and all and tried to kill the commissioner. Boss stepped in and they fought. He was winning so bats led him on a chase and nobody knows what happened after that, just that Wayne manor was found burning and Wayne’s body was in it. Boss came back a few months later after everyone thought he was dead and took control of the city again, turning it into a militia state to try and eradicate crime.” Anderson spoke without looking at Bruce the entire time.

“And Jason, what was he like after he came back?” Bruce asked.

“He was… Well I was gonna say better but that’s not the right word. He was less violent and focused, and more lost. Adrift. Oh he wasn’t not violent or anything like that, but he didn’t have that same ruthlessness. Nobody saw his face but as soon as he took that suit off it was like he was a totally different person.” Anderson said, looking at Bruce.

“I see.” Bruce said with a thoughtful hum.

“I don’t think you do. I would never betray the boss, he’s a good person despite his very obvious issues, but he wasn’t normal. He and Deathstroke sparred together all the time and I ain’t ever seen the boss lose a fight. Against Deathstroke. Don’t know if you have him here, but there’s absolutely no way he’d take it easy against anyone.” Anderson explained.

He was right of course, Deathstroke would never go easy or back down, even if he was fighting a kid. And for Jason to win against Deathstroke every time? Anderson was right in stating that something wasn’t normal.

“What else stood out to you?” Bruce asked.

“Well, and only reason I’m telling you this is cause I think you can help him a hell of a lot more than I can, but he always seemed to be able to just walk off serious wounds with no trouble. Even now that stab wound, it’s not even hurting him anymore and the broken ribs aren’t stopping him or anything are they? Plus the boss was always faster and stronger than anybody else. He could keep up with Deathstroke no problem. He insists he’s human but we weren’t so sure. He sure didn’t act human sometimes.” Anderson replied.

“What do you think it could be?” Bruce asked. After all, he didn’t know what they did or didn’t have on that earth. To him it sounded slightly like effects from the Lazarus pit, but those were mostly temporary.

“Sounds sorta like Titan but that transforms the user into a massive ramapaging monster and tends to be pretty fatal. Joker injected himself with it and died like a year after or something. But not after infecting the city with his blood. Called it Joker Virus or Joker Infection. Those infected gradually became him and went mad but they had some traces of Titan. That’s what everyone thinks happened to Bats. Everyone with it was wiped out though.” Anderson said with a shrug.

That brought up a red flag in Bruce’s mind. If it spread through blood and Jason killed Bruce, who was infected, could he possibly have ingested or absorbed some of the virus?

“When did he seem to change to become less human?” He asked.

“He didn’t, he was always like that. But he started to become more unstable after the bat died. Less a focused violent killer and more of an angry lost boy, like I said earlier. The only thing that seemed to keep him functioning was the Arkham suit. Boss wasn’t boss less he was in it so he never got out of it. Not from what we saw anyway but nobody even knew his name.” Anderson replied.

That was worrying. He would have to do blood tests to figure out exactly what was going on with Jason. Bruce didn’t see that going well, in fact, given every time he tried to even touch Jason he threatened to shoot him, he saw it ending in a possible blood bath.

“I have to go on patrol, so this conversation will continue later. In the meantime, I want you to discuss a way of extracting the blood needed for testing with Alfred. He will be here monitoring the cave in my absence.” Bruce said, pulling up the cowl and walking to the car.

Alfred walked towards them, a tray in hand for Anderson this time. It was strange having the man in the cave, and normally he would never let anyone down here, but it wasn’t like Anderson could tell anyone and he trusted the man. He seemed loyal and trustworthy, even if he was a mercenary.

̶̶̶̶  «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ 　　≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫　　 ̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶  

The rumble of the engine filled the cave, with Bruce departing and leaving Alfred and Anderson alone. Anderson crossed his arms and turned to Alfred, one eyebrow arched.

“I assume you heard the conversation. What’d you miss?” He asked.

“Nothing that I can’t draw conclusions from. I know that Bruce is likely thinking the best way to draw blood from Jason is by tricking him. I strongly disagree.” Alfred said, handing Anderson a cup of tea.

Anderson hummed and nodded, taking a sip. “I agree. We never had the chance or equipment or knowledge to even think of checking the boss for the Joker Virus. If we tell him we can find out now whether he has it or not and possibly come up with a cure, he’d probably agree. Every time someone even mentioned Joker he became irrationally violent. More so than usual. But I think it’s best you bring it up. Tell him I said to but I’ll do something with the rest of the kids while you check for that. Maybe take em into the city or something.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Master Dick is going home overmorrow, thus you can phrase it as a goodbye outing with you acting as bodyguard to not only provide protection but also an identity for you in the public eye.” Alfred said.

Anderson chuckled and nodded, sitting down in a chair by the computer. “Sounds good to me. I was a bodyguard for a while so I can play one easily. I don’t know shit bout these kids so it’ll be a good chance to learn some stuff. Figure out what they like an all. If I’m sticking around, I want to help em all, not just the boss.”

“An admirable idea. They do indeed need someone else looking out for them but, I think Master Jason needs you more than anyone else. He needs someone who understands what it’s like to claim lives and yet I am not impartial. I will always side with Master Bruce in the eyes of the children because I raised him. And it is true, he does hold a special place in my heart, but I don’t always agree with him. Jason might not know that but you? You have no responsibilities or sides to take with Batman or Bruce Mr. Anderson and you know some of his history.” Alfred said as he sat right in front of the computer.

“Some is a gross exaggeration. I know almost nothing, just one night basically and what he was like when he first showed up. That don’t tell me nothing bout his history.” Anderson stated.

He jumped slightly as he heard the crackle of a speaker, a call coming through clear.

“Oracle here. Batman tried to lock me out of the bat computer and all cameras. Mind telling me why before I hack through them?” A female voice said. Barbara Gordon. Anderson remembered her from the siege.

“We have guests that know of both his identities and ultimately Batman wants to keep that a secret, from you and anyone else who might pry. Ask him for clearance but please do respect their privacy.” Alfred said into a microphone.

Alfred huffed and leant over, speaking right into the small mic. “Hi, Oracle is it? I’m Batman’s guest. I’m helping him out with something very sensitive that could destroy lives so he’s probably keeping it as secure as possible. As the old man said, if you want more information go talk to the bat. Or come find me. I’ll probably tell you the same thing he does. Anyway, house guest out.” He said as he walked away, heading back towards his chair to stare at the blinking computer screens as Batman moved through the shadows and city streets.

Chapter Text

The sun danced across wooden floors, streaming through the slit in the curtain and rudely waking him up. Even now, after all this time, he still wasn’t used to seeing sunlight in the morning. Well, Jason did live in Gotham so it’s not like he saw it very often anyway. He used to be blinded all the time in Santa Prisca so he blacked out every window and blocked the doors. It’s not like he was there for a view anyway and the darkness felt familiar. Not necessarily safe, never safe, just something he knew.

He groaned as he rolled over, turning away from the window and facing Alfred. Wait, Alfred? Why was he here?

Jason fully opened his eyes and sat up, staring at the man. “Alf? What’re you doing here?” He asked, voice croaky and low in that early morning tone.

“Master Jason, Mr. Anderson has taken the others out to see Master Dick off whilst Master Bruce has been called into the office. You’re welcome to join them.” Alfred said.

Jason was honestly kind of offended. Dick was just gonna leave without even saying goodbye?

‘Of course he would, you did threaten him after all. Who would want to be around you?’ His inner voice sneered at him. If it was a real person right in front of him, he’d probably deck them, but that wasn’t exactly possible so he elected to ignore it.

“Yeah. Thanks. Maybe later.” Jason muttered, looking down at the ground.

“Excellent. I did have something I wanted you to do for me.” Alfred said, setting down a small black case. He opened it to reveal a syringe and three vials.

Fuck. Alfred was gonna drug him. He trusted Alfred but he’s just like everyone else. He’s going to pump him full of drugs and hallucinogens just like Harley and Joker. This was Batman’s plan all along, warp his already fractured mind to make him the perfect soldier. That’s all he was good for anyway.

Jokes on him, he wasn’t going to let anyone touch him again. He growled at Alfred, showing his teeth and everything as he leapt for the syringe. If the man wanted it, he’d give it to him. It and whatever he wanted to pump him full off. This fucker is going down, thinking he can drug him? What a joke!

Alfred held up his hands, slamming the case shut before Jason could grab the syringe.

“That is my error. I wanted to run some blood tests, master Bruce and Mister Anderson specifically. He explained that your Batman was infected with a virus. Master Bruce believed that there is a possibility you could have caught something from him. We just want to make sure you are as healthy and fit as you can be.” Alfred said gently.

Jason blinked, hearing the words past the roar in his ears. As of a fog had started to peel away from his brain he saw Alfred standing in front of him. Alfred and not a man in an alleyway or a clown in a human suit.

He nodded numbly, staring at the window and holding out his arm. If he didn’t think about it, didn’t see it, maybe he could pretend it wasn’t happening? Convince himself it wasn’t drugs, because it wasn’t, but drugs came in needles. Needles meant drugs. He couldn’t do that. Not again. He wouldn’t let himself backslide.

“Done.” Alfred said after what felt like a few seconds.

“Already?” Jason asked, absently rubbing a thumb over where the needle mark was. Alfred was busy taping a cotton ball on it. Not that it mattered anyway. He always bled a bit sluggishly and what’s one more scar amongst many?

“Indeed. You can join the others at the mall if you so desire.” Alfred said casually.

Casually, as if he wasn’t suggesting a freak like Jason walk around. In public. Without even a mask or anything to hide his well, everything.

He licked his lips, playing with the edge of the tape. “I don’t think that’s a good idea Alf.” He said quietly.

“And why not? Mr. Anderson will be there to keep watch and ensure no one comes to harm.” Alfred said as he packaged the blood.

Like Anderson could really stop him if he wanted to hurt someone. Like any of them could. Besides, it’s not like he could just show his face. Everyone would know exactly who he belongs to— fuck. Joker is still alive here. He saw the articles. It pisses him off that he’s still breathing, but he doesn’t know how Bruce lost his Jason. Maybe the kid got retribution after all. What if Joker finds him? Again. Or if he saw Harley.

No, this is a terrible idea.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…” Jason said, trailing off.

“Why not? If you are concerned about anything we do have liquid latex and I have become quite the master of makeup.” Alfred said with a slight smile. It was like he could read his mind. Jason forgot about that skill of his.

He allowed himself a sheepish smile, glancing at Alfred. “Fine. But only for a little bit and I’m leaving immediately if I don’t like something.” Jason said, standing up and walking to the closet with spare clothes. All very generic and mostly provided by Bruce. It was so weird to consider that they were almost the same size now.

It took much longer than he thought to get ready. He wasn’t going out until he was absolutely certain he wouldn’t be noticed and Alfred agreed. It took them quite a while but eventually they arrived at the mall.

The mall itself was glass, like everything in this city, with bits of gothic architecture woven in. The entrance itself was a converted church, the rest of it gone leaving only the front facade with large glass doors and stained glass sign welcoming all. The glass and brick walls looked behind that church front, stretching out on each side threatening to swallow the place whole.

Alfred dropped him off in the parking lot, and already there were too many people and too many cars around. Everything was just too loud. Fuck this really was a bad idea, he wanted to go home. And Alfred, the crafty bastard, left before he had a chance to say he changed his mind.

Fine. Guess he just had to go track down Anderson and the others on his own. It’s not like he had a phone to contact them with. Well he did, but he doubted his phone plan was multiversal. After all, he lost service walking into a store, how could he possibly have service in an entirely different universe?

It actually took much less time than he thought to find the others even though he really should have expected this. He heard them first before he saw them, hearing Damian shouting something and of course. He was in front of a pet store, trying to blackmail Anderson into buying him a cat.

“Don’t you already have a cat?” Anderson asked with arms crossed.

“Yes but I don’t see the relevance of that.” Damian replied, matching his stance.

Anderson sighed and glared down at him. “Okay but you don’t need another one and I’m not your father. I can’t authorise you bringing home a pet. Besides, I don’t have any money. How were you planning to buy the cat?”

“I… surely father gave you funds for such a trip?” Damian asked.

Jason snorted. “Why would he give him anything? Anderson is a stranger. You should be grateful he’s even allowed to stay at the manor.” He said as he walked over to them.

“Preposterous! Anderson is not allowed to vacate the manor. He must stay.” Damian said.

Jason chuckled and looked over at Anderson. “You okay with that? Never leaving the manor?”

“I would like to leave eventually but I’ll stay if you want me to, kid.” Anderson said with a grin, ruffling Damian’s hair.

“Do that again at your own peril! I will not be liable for any loss of limbs.” Damian hissed.

Anderson knelt down and whispered to him, “I was gonna do that to Jason but he’s too tall for me. You’re the unlucky victim now.”

Damian glared at him then turned his ire upon Jason. Great. Now he had to deal with the brat too. But if Anderson really did do that to Jason, he would definitely lose a hand or at the very least have a few broken fingers. If anyone touched him they’d have a knife to the gut, thank you very much.

Speaking of, Dick squealed his name and launched himself at Jason, wrapping those freakishly strong arms around him. “I will stab you if you don’t let go.” Jason growled into his ear.

Alfred already frisked him for any hidden weapons, finding two guns and five knives, but he missed the two hidden in his belt and the bottom of his shoe. He was already reaching for the one in the belt when Dick let go, looking sheepish as he backed away.

“Sorry it’s just I’m not used to seeing you! And out in public! I’m just so happy you’re with us.” Dick said with a huge smile.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes, but not very hard and rolled them anyway. “Whatever. I’m only here because Alfred asked me to come.”

“No one can deny Alfred.” Duke said as he came over to join them. “Guess who I found?” He asked them. That was when Jason noticed the person trailing behind Duke. Well kid was more accurate. This guy looked like he was about 17. Sure Jason didn’t have much grounds to stand on, being 19 himself, but that didn’t stop him from seeing anyone younger than himself as a child. God sometimes he felt so fucking old.

The kid waved at them, he had black hair and blue eyes and an all too familiar face.

‘Oh fuck me. That’s Tim Drake.’ Jason thought, staring at the guy. Wasn’t he supposed to be on some kinda mission?

“Wait. Tim fucking Drake? Isn’t he supposed to be away or something?” Jason said aloud, then winced as everyone turned to look at him.

“I was but I’m back now. It was a work trip but it ended up being pretty easy. Who are you?” Tim asked, arms crossed and shoulders hunched, raising his head to meet Jason’s gaze. God he was so young here, just like Dickhead.

“I, uh…” That really threw him even though he should have been expecting it. Of course Tim would want to know but what does he say? Hi, I’m Jason Todd from another universe that tried to kill you several times, glad you’re not dead? Yeah that would go down a treat.

Thankfully Dick answered for him.

“Tim! It’s Jason!” Dick said, grabbing Jason and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean it, I will break your fucking fingers.” Jason growled, glaring at the man. How many goddamn times did he need to bring up personal space and boundaries?

“Wait a minute, Jason Todd?!” Tim squeaked, staring at him with his mouth open.

Oh great. He had a fan.

“Yeah? And what of it?” He challenged, crossing his arms and glaring at the kid.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Tim asked. Which was quite a question.

“Tim, you can’t just ask people why they’re not dead.” Duke stage whispered.

Thank you Duke. He was liking this kid more and more every day.

“Yeah well I never died.” Jason said curtly. Anderson was glaring at him but what did he want him to say? He technically wasn’t lying. He never did die. Not in his universe anyway.

“Really? What happened? Where have you been?” Tim asked, seemingly genuinely curious.

That didn’t stop the temperature in the atmosphere dropping a few degrees. Was it just him or did it feel like everyone was staring at them? There was probably people listening. Someone just desperate to get their hands on this little bit of information.

That’s why Tim was asking. Not curiosity but blackmail. It had to be. He probably had some weird device around to record it all so he could sell it or give it to Joker. Fuck Joker probably knew. He had to know. He was coming for him again. He had to be.

Did the floor always look like Arkham’s tiles? He could hear the laughter now. Which punishment was it today? Or treat as Joker liked to say. He would always tell him he was rewarding him, giving him little treats to fix his sanity. Make him better. Was he better? Was he still sane?

“Boss.” Anderson’s gruff voice came. Jason forced himself to look at him and then at the kid whose neck was in his hands. Fuck. He had his hands wrapped around Tim’s neck. Fuck! He had his hands around the kid’s neck!

He immediately let go and stammered out an apology before turning and fleeing the mall. He ignored everyone’s shouts. He could have killed Tim today and wouldn’t even have realised. Goddamn he didn’t even know this replacement. Was he a replacement here? He didn’t know anything.

But he walked along the sidewalk, pulling up the hood of the red hoodie he found in the manor. It was a little small but it was better than wearing a stupid suit.

He kept walking, not knowing where he was going or where he was.

And that’s how he ended up in crime alley, staring down a man with a gun.

Chapter Text

The rumble of the car stopped as he was greeted to the sight of the mall. They never had this in his universe. The only place they had was the shopping outlet, but the one time he saw it was when it was full of militia and bombs, so not exactly sightseeing material.

It was a long morning and an even longer ride to get here despite it physically taking no more than twenty minutes. He had stood in the kitchen, yelling at everyone to make their own damn breakfast and wash their plates, listening to the constant complaints. Jesus Christ these kids. Just because you had a butler or someone else to do stuff for you doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do anything. He’d seen lots of kids in the army that didn’t know how to cook or clean cause mommy always did it for them. It honestly pissed him off. He was going to teach these kids basic life skills and responsibility whether they wanted to learn or not, Bruce and Alfred be damned.

Alfred seemed all for it, or at least turned a blind eye and went to go deal with Jason. He had vaguely considered inviting him out but there was no way he could see the boss being around in public. Even now only reason he wasn’t wearing a mask was because Bruce and Anderson took his stuff and hid it.

Jason lost it when he found out his stuff was gone. Including firing several bullets at Anderson and Bruce with a gun they didn’t even know he had. Anderson was still helping Alfred pick the bullets out of the wall and that happened the first night they came back.

It had been almost a whole week since they first arrived. And Jason was doing far better than he thought. So far there had only been a couple of incidents. Incidents which were why Bruce had come to him. It was good for the kid that he let Bruce know. And it was good for these kids that they wash their own fucking dishes.

Just getting them out the door took forever and a day but finally, finally they were here. And the chaos started almost immediately. Damian had tried to attack Duke, screaming about how he insulted his honour.

Anderson grabbed him by the collar and hoisted Damian up. “You’re ten years old. What honour could you possibly have?” That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Damian kicked off immediately, shouting and screaming about how that was an insult to his honour and he had more honour and a greater destiny than all of them.

“You don’t want a destiny, kid. Those with a destiny and a purpose end up buried or insane.” Anderson said with a snort, dropping the kid.

“What, like Todd?” Damian asked with a snort.

That drew a grimace from Anderson. Of course the sneaky little shit picked up on that. Kid might be arrogant but he certainly wasn’t stupid or as self centred as he wanted everyone to believe.

Which meant that he caught onto the wince right away. “So I was right! You do know what happened to Todd! Father refuses to speak of it as does Grayson. I simply inquired as to how one of fathers wards could possibly be so defective.” Damian said.

Certainly an interesting choice of words. Boss wasn’t defective, just, working through some things. Lots of things.

“Because I don’t know what happened Dami. Don’t think Bruce does either.” Dick said with a warm smile. He was good for the kid, far better than Bruce it seemed cause he was actually around to pay attention to him. Kid should just get his head out of his ass and take him in already. Seems like he constantly needs someone around and so far Bruce has mastered the mostly absent despite physically being around parenting style.

“They don’t. I don’t even know what happened, just that it’s not something you should ever mention or want to know anything about.” Anderson stated, crossing his arms.

“Then Todd should not be screaming about them at night. Even on the opposite side of the manor I can hear him. It is very disruptive to my allotted resting time.” Damian commented, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was pouting. God this kid spoke weird but hey, Anderson wasn’t gonna hold it against him.

He sighed and looked around. “Everyone has nightmares but I’m sure you can understand why he might have more than the average person. Now come on, we’re here to shop. Not stand around arguing.” Anderson said as he directed them towards the mall entrance.

“Why are we even here when we have everything we need at our residence?” Damian asked for roughly the seventh time.

“It’s not about needs or wants. It’s about social interaction and atmosphere. You never know, you might run into someone from school.” Anderson said but god knows how that would go. All he’s heard all week is how foolish and stupid Damian’s classmates are.

“Those cretins?! I rue the days I meet them.” Damian very predictably exclaimed.

All Anderson could do was hold back a long and deep sigh. This whole family had clear issues. Apart from that Duke kid, he seemed pretty alright. But the others? Definitely need therapy. Lots and lots of therapy.

Of course he wasn’t a therapist so instead he simply elected to take them around the shops.

The very first place they were forcibly dragged to was a pet store.

“You guys can go in any store you want, I predict this taking a very long time.” Anderson said to Dick and Duke as he saw Damian’s eyes light up at the puppy in the front of the store.

“I’ll come with you. You’ll need me here.” Dick said with a chuckle as Duke waved bye and disappeared.

“Anderson! I demand you buy me the dog.” Damian said, pointing at the puppy.

“Yeah no not gonna happen. If I was to get a dog I’d get it from a shelter. Not a highly unethical pet store.” Anderson said with a chuckle.

“What?!” Damian roared. “I demand an explanation!”

Great. He really should teach the kid to dial it down several decibels. The entire mall didn’t need to hear him. “Most pet stores use puppy farms or inbreeding to get designer and purebred dogs. And look around. You think these puppies get walked or are with their parents? Yeah right. Soon as they’re old enough they get stuck in a cage and then fools come in here and see them and buy them so these places keep selling em cause it’s not illegal and people still keep buying.” Anderson explained which caused Damian to riot, demanding they liberate the puppies.

“We can’t. Not during daylight, we would be caught immediately and the puppies taken away.” Dick said. Fantastic. He was going to have to stay up all night watching the kid now.

Damian agreed and went around pointing at everything, asking if they were ethical or not. Honestly, Anderson had no idea. He wasn’t a pet expert or rights advocate or whatever. He was just a guy strapped for cash following his mentally unstable boss around. You know, like everyone does.

And as he was listening to Damian have a meltdown about not getting a pet, all he could do was wonder about how this was his life now.

Then his boss spoke from behind him. It still made him jump, but not as much as he would have done if he had the voice modulator. Say what you will, but almost everyone at the militia hated that thing. And the boss. He wasn’t very popular given his training methods typically involved bruised ribs and at least one person dead at the end of the week. Luckily boss had rules, you stick to them and you’ll be fine. The dead ones were the ones who got greedy and started running side businesses. Especially anything with kids. That’s how you ended up dead or worse.

Say what you will about the boss but by god were his killing and torture methods creative.

Duke came back with another kid in tow. No idea who he was but apparently the others did. And so did the boss.

Guessing by the hands around the kids neck, he didn’t like him very much. Great. Fantastic. He knew it was gonna be a bad day as soon as he saw the boss. He would love the kid to get out more but there was a reason he suggested he stay home. Well. He should probably do something before boss actually kills him.

All it took was one word in the tone he heard Deathstroke use countless time with the Knight. He was gonna say “knight” exactly like he did but figured the boss wouldn’t appreciate the others knowing about that little tid-bit. Already some of them looked at him weirdly at the term boss.

Whatever. They had bigger things to deal with, like the boss currently doing a runner. That Dick kid was off after him, telling him to stop. No way the boss actually would but that wasn’t his problem. He went out with the kids, not the boss, so he can find his own way back. Sides, boss could look after himself. He wasn’t worried about that. The boss accidentally or purposefully killing someone? Sure. A little bit. But not enough to abandon these kids to chase after him. The criminals of this city could deal with him. Anderson wasn’t being paid to be a babysitter.

Actually he wasn’t being paid at all. Hm yeah that was a problem. Why was he even still around? Oh yeah, free food and bed. Oh well, he likes the kids and can tolerate the others.

Speaking of the kids, he had to deal with this Tim guy who was still rubbing his neck.

“Shit he didn’t choke you or nothing did he?” Anderson asked.

“Not badly. Just had a tight grip but I could still breathe. What happened to him?” Tim asked.

“Hell if I know. Guy was always quite unstable and anyone who even mentioned the joker ended up with a bullet in the head so I assume something to do with that.” Anderson said with a shrug.

Boss already admitted to Dick that he was kidnapped and tortured by joker so it was probably fine to mention. This kid at least deserved to know that it wasn’t anything he’d done that prompted the attack. Well even if it was it probably wouldn’t warrant being choked but hey, wasn’t like he was gonna tell the boss off. He liked his fingers intact, thank you very much.

“Go back. Why’d you call him boss? Isn’t he younger than you?” Tim asked, dropping his hand.

“Yeah. And? You can have bosses younger than you.” Anderson replied. Generally they weren’t over two decades younger but hey beggars couldn’t be choosers and at least he paid well. Too well for a kid who wasn’t even twenty yet. He should probably be slightly concerned about that but also not his problem right now. Everything about his boss was concerning and he certainly wasn’t gonna sort through all that right now.

Tim didn’t seem to accept or believe his answer. Anderson just sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen. We all do stuff for money and he just happened to pay well. What I did for him belongs between me and him unless he decides to share. So if you want to know, ask him.”

“And have him try and kill me again?” Tim asked.

That was a good point. If he was in his situation he certainly wouldn’t ask the boss anything so fair enough.

“Fair enough.” Anderson replied. “Boss just doesn’t like you asking personal questions. When I worked for him I didn’t even know who he was or what he looked like. He’s real quiet about his private life. Speaking of, someone should probably track him down.”

“I’m on it.” Dick said from nearby, holding up a phone. “I’m gonna get Bruce down here too. We can find him faster that way.”

Now that was a terrible plan. Boss seemed real nervous and guilty around Bruce. Apart from that one breakdown but he was also delirious so that didn’t count.

“Agreed. Let’s split up and search the city.” Tim said.

“Woah, hey now, those two have got it. We’re still here to shop and I bet you came here for a reason. We can’t put life on hold because the boss had another meltdown. This happened all the time and he always turned up fine.” Anderson interjected. And yes the boss was always fine but the rest of Gotham? Not so much. Normally it ended with at least three bodies piled in an alley but the others didn’t need to know that.

Tim muttered something about him being right. Meanwhile Damian and Duke looked bored as anything. Time to play babysitter again and entertain the troupe as Dick and Bruce searched for the boss.

He’d be fine. He was sure of it. Not so certain about Dick or Bruce though but that wasn’t exactly his problem to deal with.

Chapter Text

“Give me all your money!” Voice echoed throughout the alley, the gun glinting in the rare sunlight that decided to grace Gotham. And Jason couldn’t help but chuckle. A low and sinister tone that clearly made the man falter.

“I mean it! I’ll shoot!” He yelled and Jason let a grin slip onto his lips.

This absolute moron. He wasn’t going to shoot anyone. “No you won’t. You don’t even know how to use that thing. First of all, safety is still on. Second of all, how are you going to shoot me if you don’t have a gun?” And with that, Jason moved.

Elbow slammed into the man’s stomach, an uppercut catching him in the jaw, and wrist snapping audibly as Jason twisted the gun to the side.

The man screamed and dropped to the ground, the gun now firmly in Jason’s hand. He flicked the safety off and raised it, pressing it to the man’s temple.

“Now the safety’s off. Do you know what happens when I fire this close? Your brain matter and bits of skull go everywhere. Splattered all across that wall. And everyone will walk past and go oh that’s gross but no one will care. Your body will rot with the rats crawling over your skin and nibbling your flesh as you return to the roaches and insects and become just another art piece in this city of crime. And me?” He laughed again, moving his finger to the trigger. “Oh I’m an artist.”

A body slammed into him, knocking him back into the wall. The gun fell from his hand and clattered against the ground, firing a shot at the brick wall behind them.

Jason laughed and turned back to his attacker after both of them had glanced at the shot, dust still falling from the bricks. “Imagine if someone was standing there! Now wouldn’t that be fun?” The manic grin slipped across his lips as he heard the ringing of laughter in his ears.

Cruel and manic laughter that never stopped, the fuzzy feeling and tingling of his teeth as electricity lit up his bones the main purveyor of this fight.

He pulled a knife from his waistband and twirled it between his fingers, stalking around his prey. The poor little thing thought they could attack him, him?! He was going to enjoy carving a smile onto this little birdie's face.

“Fuck me. Jason?!” The man exclaimed. Jason blinked several times and finally noticed exactly who he had pinned to the wall, a knife to their throat.

They wore red with red hair to match. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name but he had vaguely heard of him and that green guy in star city.

“Aren’t you meant to be in star city?” Jason asked, not lowering the blade.

“Not anymore. Gotham’s the only place that’ll deal to me now. I tend to get in and get out during the day, before Batman has a chance to notice. Now do you mind moving the knife?” The red guy asked, pointing at it.

Jason snorted and tucked the blade away, back into the hidden compartment in his belt.

“So that’s why you’re in some back alley. Trying to score? Oh how the mighty have fallen.” Jason said with a sarcastic grin.

“I mean I thought you knew this already, but I could say the same. Only I feel like murder is a little worse than drugs.” The red guy countered with.

He was right. He supposed it was a little hypocritical of him. “Oh I don’t stop just at murder. I’d go the whole drug route again too, were I a weaker man.” He knelt down and picked up the gun, examining it. “Although I am pretty weak so who knows.”

“Shit. You tryna get clean too?” The red dude asked, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah man. Fuck drugs and fuck the guy that got me hooked. I’d put him in the ground if he weren’t so… him.” Jason snarled, kicking the crying robber who was still on the ground.

“It wasn’t Batman was it?” The red dude asked.

That drew a laugh from Jason. In a way it was, but no. That immediate problem stems from him but isn’t directly linked. “Sorta. But aren’t you here tryna get some stuff? Don’t you wanna just get on with it or whatever and leave me alone?”

“No way. You’re a much healthier distraction than my latest fix. I’ll definitely regret that in a few hours but I feel like if I play my cards very wrong you’ll put me out of my misery.”

Jason shrugged in response. Maybe. He never knew what he was gonna do. It was like his body moved on its own and he just sometimes woke up in it. He hardly even remembers the entirety of Halloween or anything since he first got shot in Joker’s little underground office. Everything from then up until his confrontation with Batman was completely fuzzy or just not there. Why couldn’t he black out the rest of it? That would be nice. To just not remember the worst moments of his life.

“How are you here anyway? You’re dead. I remember seeing your body.” The red kid asked. Why was it everyone was always so hung up about his not death?

“Yeah well I never actually died.” Jason said with a snort.

He was expecting pity or something similar. Instead the guy just nods.

“Makes sense I guess although I am fairly certain you were dead. Anyway, I should probably leave before Batman finds me. I hate that guy.” The red guy said.

Before Jason could even think or stop himself, he growled, “me too. Fuck Batman. Let’s go.”

“I know somewhere we can go. Come on.” Red guy said with a wicked grin.

“Lead the way.” Was all Jason said with a grunt. Something that drew a chuckle from the guy. What did he find so funny? If he laughed again, Jason was gonna cave his head in. This was an anti-laughing household. “Red guy.”

Jason probably shouldn’t follow a stranger around but what was this guy gonna do that hasn’t already been done? And he already knew he could defend himself. If he didn’t, then this guy was a fucking moron, pardon his French, but a knife to throat is a pretty good ‘don’t fuck with me’ indicator.

“You really don’t remember who I am?” Red archer guy asked. His eyes were wide and he looked incredibly sad.

Fuck. He had to fix this and make the guy feel better, he hated the puppy dog eyes. “Nope. Should I?” That was probably the wrong thing to say. That wasn’t fixing anyone’s feelings. Whoops.

“Listen, kid,” Jason started to say.

“I’m older than you.” Red arrow guy muttered.

“Kid. I remember nothing from the time I was 15 to 19. Is it really such a weird concept that I forgot other stuff from before then?” Jason said.

The guy sighed. “Nah. Names Roy. Roy Harper. But you sure you don’t remember me?” Roy asked, raising his head and looking at him.

“I’m sure. Why? I assume you know me.” Jason crossed his arms as Roy nodded. “Tell me about us. How’d you know me?”

Roy grinned as Jason asked.

Streetlights flickered as they gave way to darkness, the back alley paved with vomit and garbage, strewn about the place. Several people were passed out in the alley, one of them with his head leaning against the shoulder of a man and dressed in red leather.

A kick stirred him slightly, long red hair falling over his shoulders as he raised his head, slurring a “whaddya want?”

“Shit. What I want is for you to get up. Come on.” A kid in bright yellow, red and green said, grabbing Roy and trying to haul him to his feet. He draped his arm around him and grunted. “Fuck man what do you eat? And I thought B was heavy.” Robin muttered.

“Or maybe you’re jus’ weak.” Roy slurred as he stumbled with him.

“Wait. Are you drunk AND high?! Are you insane?!” Robin exclaimed as Roy shrugged.

“Prob’ly. Not like my life can get any better. If I die then yay.” Roy whispered, before laughing, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Don’t. Don’t ever say that, okay? I might not know you well but Dick would be really upset with me if I let you die.” Robin said.

“Right. And that’s all we care about. Pleasing the golden boy. Good old dick who never did anything wrong or made a mistake. Who could replace stupid druggie fucked up Roy Harper. Wouldn’t ever want to upset him.” Roy snarled.

That caused Jason to laugh. “Okay Roy. I think I like you. Come on, there’s a safe house no one is using or checking up on nearby. We can use that till you’re good enough to go home.”

“Screw that. I ain’t ever going home.” Roy whispered as Jason guided him out of the alley.

“Okay. If you want to stay then that’s on you. I’ll help you out but you do know this is Gotham right? No one willingly stays here.” Robin said softly.

“You do.” Roy pointed out.

Jason snorted and shook his head. “Yeah. I do. Don’t know why. Maybe you can help me figure that out.”

Jason snorted as he listened to the story, rolling his eyes. “Great. So we bonded over the fact that you were high off your tits. How do you even remember that?”

“You told it to me after I sobered up in the safe house. Are all your safe houses that nice because I want to stay again.” Roy said with a smile.

“Oh mine aren’t. I had some of my own, they’re probably gone now, but they were not anywhere you’d want to live for long. Made me feel right at home.” Jason said.

“Right. I think I feel that way too. Now it’s just weird staying somewhere nice. Especially cause Ollie’s thrown me out. That night was the last straw. I was only in Gotham because Ollie said he never wanted me in his city again so I went to go find Dick but got side tracked. Found you instead.” Roy said and laughed, patting Jason’s shoulder.

Jason almost broke his arm, releasing it at the last second. “Sorry. Just… don’t touch me.”

Roy raised both hands, taking a step back. “Hey, that’s cool with me. Sorry Buddy, didn’t know. So mind telling me what happened to you?”

“Actually. I do mind.” Jason snapped, growling at Roy. “You know what? No. Why don’t you take a look and tell me what you think, huh?” Jason ripped off the gloves he was wearing and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the many scars that laced every bit of his skin.

“Damn. Okay, I get why you don’t want to talk about it. That looks rough.” Roy said.

“Yeah. It was. Now shut your mouth and stop talking before I get pissed off and put a bullet in your skull.” Jason hissed.

“Okay okay. I’m stopping talking right now. No more words from me.” Roy said while still definitely talking.

Goddamn was this guy always so annoying?

He came to a stop outside a gun club. A gun club. Was this really where he was staying?

“This is where you’re staying?” Jason asked, tone incredulous and one eyebrow arched.

“What? No, of course not. That would be way too loud for even me. Sometimes I come here when I want to blow off some steam and I figured you had some to get rid of too.” Roy said, gesturing at the sign.

“You got that right. Nearly killed the Drake kid earlier. So if you end up dead don’t blame me.” Jason said and waltzed inside.

“Hold on. You almost did what?!” Roy exclaimed and sprinted after him.

Jason was thoroughly ignoring Roy and instead renting out the weapons.

“What do you think, you down for a little sniper rifle action?” Jason asked Roy with a wicked grin. It had been a long time since he’d had a legitimate challenger when it came to aim. He was happy to have some proper competition.

“You know what? Sure. Can we get two sniper rifles?” Roy asked the two people behind the desk.

The one who looked rather young almost choked, squeaking, “is that even legal?” The older one shrugged.

“Yeah. I’ll need your ID’s and for you to sign a waiver. Then I’ll help you kids set up.” The older man said, passing documents over to them.

“Kid? I’m probably older than your assistant!” Roy exclaimed, pointing at the guy in the booth.

“I’m 22.” The assistant replied.

Roy nodded and punched Jason in the arm, earning him an impressive death glare. “See? I am older! I’m not a kid.”

“Neither am I.” Jason replied curtly.

The guy examining their ID’s scoffed. “Not a kid? This here says you’re 19, Peter.”

Jason shrugged. “And? Old enough to shoot a gun aren’t I? Come on. Let’s just get this over with.”

The man sighed and nodded, directing them to a shooting range where he set up a rifle. “I only have one so you’ll have to alternate but we’re not responsible for any injuries or damages.”

“Oh don’t worry. I won’t hurt myself. Will you?” He asked Roy with a sharp grin.

“Of course I won’t. I might not use a rifle, like ever, but I do know how to use one.” Roy said.

“Do you? Well then, show me.” Jason said, gesturing for him to go first. Roy did, stepping up to the gun and lying on his stomach where it was mounted. He fired, wincing as the knock back threw his shoulder back.

“Well done. You hit the target.” The attendant said, looking really bored. He then directed his attention to the target and hummed. “Actually, you hit it dead centre. Well done.”

Jason snorted and took over from Roy. “Yeah. Well done.” He said and fired, sending the bullet directly through where Roy shot with a loud crack of the rifle.

He then stood up, taking the rifle off the mount.

“Woah woah wait a minute kid! You’ll break your arm with the blow—“ the attendant was silenced as Jason fired thrice, creating a nice grouping around the target from a standing position, firing one after the other.

He then turned and handed the gun off to Roy.

Roy grinned and mirrored Jason’s stance.

“Watch out for the kick back. That’ll throw your shoulder out.” Jason warned. Roy nodded and adjusted his stance slightly, before firing. He matched Jason’s hits perfectly, the two of them never once missing or having a single bullet out of line.

The attendant stared with his mouth open. “Holy hell. Just who are you kids?! At first I thought it was beginners luck but nobody, and I mean nobody, shoots that well.”

“Clearly somebody does given we just did.” Jason said with a shrug.

“And that unnerves me. Harper! What are you doing here?” A voice echoed from behind them, Bruce mother fucking Wayne stalking towards them with the assistant trailing behind.

“Oh.. Hi. I was just catching up with Jason?” Roy whispered, flinching as Bruce glared down at him.

“Come on Jason. We’re going home.” Bruce said. No, commanded. And like hell was Jason gonna let anyone, let alone Bruce Bloody Wayne tell him what to do.

“Hey hey hey! Woah woah no need for that!” The attendant yelled.

The gun gleamed, not the rifle still in Roy’s hands, but instead the pistol in Jason’s. It was aimed right at Bruce’s head, a cruel smile on Jason’s lips.

“Nobody tells me what to do.” Jason snarled.

“Okay. You’re right. I often forget you’re an adult, I was just so worried.” Bruce said, holding up his hands.

“For me or about what I’d do?” Jason challenged, taking a step closer.

“For you. Of course I was worried about you. Now please drop the gun Jason, and come home.” Bruce pleaded.

“Fuck you old man! You know what? No. I’m staying with Roy now.” Jason snapped, tucking the pistol into the waistband on his trousers.

Roy had set down the rifle, shrugging. “Fine by me, although.. I don’t actually have somewhere I’m staying right now.” He confessed which caused Jason to sigh.

Jason wasn’t sure about Roy but it seemed to be a great way to piss Bruce off and all he wanted to do right now was make Bruce mad.

“Fine you’re staying at the manor now and Bruce, if you want me around, there’s no negotiating this. It’s happening.” Jason promised, stalking out the door to leave Bruce and Roy staring each other down.

Chapter Text

Bats screeched and protested the intrusion as footsteps echoed amongst stalagmites and stalactites. With a briefcase in hand, Bruce walked up to the selection of high grade forensic testing equipment. Opening the briefcase, he pulled out the blood sample and placed it in the analyser.

“Oracle.” He said into a comms unit with a gruff voice, despite wearing a black suit, and not the one he donned at night.

“Well hello to you too. It’s awfully early for a call isn’t it?” Oracle responded. She sounded tired, like she had just woken up. It was almost 1pm, she should have been up by now.

He gave her a grunt in response. “I’m running an analysis on a blood sample I just acquired. I need to know if any elements of it match or don’t match anything in any database. And I mean any.”

“Bruce, what’s this for?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “I just need to know the results. I have a call coming in.” He said and hung up without even a goodbye.

He was actually getting a call, he didn’t just say that to end the conversation like he often would. It was Dick. Wasn’t he supposed to be out with the others?

He answered and before he could even say hello, Dick was practically yelling at him.

“I can’t find him! He just ran off, again and I don’t know where he went, oh god Bruce what do I do? What if he’s gone again but for real this time?” Dick said, not even taking a breath as he fired the words at him.

He was hysterical. Bruce had to deal with this.
“Stop. Slow down and explain the situation to me.” Bruce demanded, slipping into the Batman voice. It was practically subconsciously at this point, but it helped.

Dick took a breath and started to talk again. “Jason. He turned up and Tim was there at the mall. I don’t know why but that freaked Jason out. He attacked Tim then ran off. I don’t know where he’s gone! What if he’s been taken again?” Dick started to hyperventilate towards the end.

Bruce sighed and spoke calmly. “Dick, listen to me. Jason can more than defend himself. He’s not a child anymore and it’s highly unlikely that anyone who could get the drop on him would strike now during broad daylight. He will be fine. I’ll get oracle to do a trace on the cameras.”

“Oh. Right, Babs. I forgot about her. Okay. Okay. I’ll keep looking around here but you tell me as soon as you find anything okay?” Dick said. They bid goodbyes and then Dick hung up.

This was concerning to say the least. He wasn’t concerned about Jason’s safety. The kid demonstrated he could protect himself, were he willing. He suspects anyway. The only time he actually saw Jason fight was when Nightwing attacked him. He needed to do tests to see exactly what Jason was capable of, but that could wait. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to do any for the vigilante side and Jason would give it up altogether, but he knew better than anyone just how unlikely that was.

He then called oracle.

“Bruce, it’s been less than five minutes. I don’t have the results yet.” She said without even a sarcastic greeting. She really must be tired.

“This isn’t about that. I need a trace on someone. Last seen leaving Gotham Mall one to ten minutes ago.” He said.

“That’s not very specific. Can I have some details on what I’m searching for?” Barbara asked. He could hear the click of keys in the background anyway, despite her question.

He didn’t even have to answer when he heard a quiet gasp. “Bruce… What is this?” Oracle asked. Immediately some security camera footage was sent to his computer.

He pulled it up, watching as Jason looked around, hands in his pockets, hood hiding most of his face, before sprinting towards the car park exit.

Had he really forgotten to notify Barbara? Between dealing with Wayne enterprises and the fallout after the experiment gone wrong, Jason and Anderson, and everything else that normally happens in Gotham he must have. He’d been so busy and preoccupied lately it wasn’t surprising it slipped his mind.

“I don’t know yet. He’s the one whose blood I’m analysing. I have to find him and get those results. Can you track him?” Bruce asked.

“Yes but I won’t. Not without an explanation. Who is this exactly and why do you need me to track him because he looks a lot like Jason. If he’d…” Oracle trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

“It is him. Sort of. That’s why I need the blood, to figure out exactly what I’m dealing with but I cannot lose him again. He’s known to be a flight risk in the past. I don’t want to find out whether or not that has changed.” Bruce responded, already heading out of the cave.

“Fine. I’ll help you out, but I’m only doing this because of Jason. Cameras caught him heading towards the Bowery. He disappeared after that but last I saw he was heading in the direction of Park Row.” Oracle told him.

Bruce was already out of the cave, not wasting a single second. He was still in civilian clothes so he had to go as a civilian but that didn’t stop or deter him. The Bruce Wayne persona was never more important than his children. He just got Jason back, he refused to lose him again.

He got to the alley in record time, feet hitting the pavement. This was probably the place he hated the most and yet loved. It was every bad memory and bittersweet one rolled into one place.

The only thing that made this place beautiful was the image of a little boy holding a tire iron seemingly without any fear, staring the Batman down and grinning despite the fear he felt given that his next move was to hit him with said tire iron.

After his death, he refused to leave. He spent weeks taking down every single criminal that walked that alleyway. Somewhere somehow he thought maybe he was getting vengeance for Jason. Saving his memory from all the people that hurt him in that alley and maybe, just maybe, run into that little ghost of a child holding up a tire iron and laughing in the face of fear.

Now that Jason was back, this place didn’t linger with ghosts as much. They would always be there, but the grief didn’t break him anymore. Not that it would all be better with Jason back home.

He stopped in front of a man who was lying on the ground with a hand over his chest, coughing heavily.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, crouching down next to him.

“Don’t know. Some kid came up and started wailing on me then some other kid showed up and stopped him.” The man replied, holding his stomach. “Guy nearly shot me! If not for the other one I’d be dead right now!”

“What did they look like?” Bruce asked, already pulling up the security footage of Jason on his phone. He didn’t have any recent pictures of him, he’d have to rectify that.

“Uh the guy who attacked me was big. Tall and jacked and stuff. Dark hair I think? I was too busy, you know, getting my face smashed in!” The guy exclaimed.

Bruce nodded and showed him the picture. “Yeah him! That’s the guy! He and that redhead just walked off together. It was kinda weird, first they were fighting then they weren’t. Went that way.” The victim told him, pointing down the alley.

Redhead. Well that narrows down the suspect pool and redheads that know Jason narrow it down even more. He wasn’t a very sociable kid, not like Dick. He didn’t have any friends at school either and certainly none from before Bruce came along. None apart from one or two but they were a dark haired boy and a dark haired girl.

It was likely one of the old teen titans or young justice members. They changed names and teams so often he forgot which was around when Jason was active as Robin. But it was definitely Dick’s group.

He called Oracle first, notifying her of what the man said, and then called Dick.

“Bruce! Did you find him?” Dick asked, answering on the first ring.

“No. But I did find a lead. He was spotted fighting with a red head that then seemed to recognise him and left with them. Do you know of anyone currently in Gotham that would know Jason?” Bruce asked.

“In Gotham? No but I don’t keep in contact with Roy anymore. Wally is currently on a mission and nowhere near America but I have no idea where Roy is. I don’t even know if he’s alive honestly. No one does.” Dick replied, sounding slightly out of breath. Wait. That sounds suspiciously like gunshots in the background. Was he fighting someone right now?

“Are you fighting someone right now?” Bruce asked, tone exasperated.

“Well, good talk, I gotta go, tell me when you find him bye!” Dick said and hung up.

Bruce sighed just as he got a text. From Barbara.

‘At the rotary gun club, Bowery.’ Was all the text said. He got in his car to head there right away. What Jason was doing at a gun club, he had no idea, but it was probably trouble. He always did have a knack for that, and disobeying Bruce.

Arriving at the gun club, he spotted a lone worker sitting at the front desk. They looked roughly the same age as Dick, possibly younger, but certainly not old enough to be a manager or owner of any form. And given the fact that the hook labelled ‘warehouse’ was empty, said owner was most likely dealing with someone else. Someone who wanted high powered and dangerous weapons. Just like Jason.

He approached the desk and plastered on a wide smile, leaning on it. “Hi. I’m looking for someone. You haven’t seen anyone with dark hair and a red hoodie around, have you?” He asked the kid who stuttered out a response.

He told Bruce to follow him, getting his name wrong at first. That was kind of refreshing to hear. He liked not being instantly recognised. Even if this kid clearly did recognise him at first, it was just good that it wasn’t one of those adoring fans. Especially the women. Leeches, all of them.

He kept the warm smile as he followed them down and to the long range shooting, where there Jason stood. Jason and Roy Harper. Of course, the troublemakers found each other. This spelled a recipe for disaster.

Jason fired the rifle and handed it off to Roy. The shot being perfect and seemingly without ease. He barely even flinched with the recoil, and the noise didn’t startle him once, even with the ear defenders.

He was far too practiced at that. He shouldn’t be this good with firearms. It wasn’t right, seeing any of his kids use guns. He wasn’t going to impose his rules that much, well apart from the non-lethality rule, but it did burn his insides and cause his guts to knot together.

Jason was always the first to go for a gun, disarm them before they had a chance to shoot. And yet he was always fascinated by weapons, guns especially. He had a natural takent for weapons but to see it so clear and on display? It was as if a monster was chewing on his guts and pulling at his spinal cord. It hurt so much, but it was who he was now. And it was actually quite impressive.

After Jason was alerted to his presence and said his piece, he dragged Roy out with him. Leaving Bruce to pick up the bill, which was more than typical.

As the owner led him back to the front entrance, he started to speak.

“There’s a national sharpshooter competition happening. We wanted to enroll a member of our club so we’re hosting a contest of our own to determine the most likely to win. Maybe those boys could enter and you could perhaps sponsor us to go to the competition? Only if they’re chosen, of course, Mr. Wayne.” The owner said with a bright smile to match Bruce’s.

Of course. It was always about money. That’s all people thought of when they saw his face. He sighed and nodded. “I’ll think about it, but I’d really have to ask them.” Bruce said.

“I get it. Here, take a flyer. Let us know what you think.” The owner said and handed over a blue flyer.

It was possibly one of the ugliest things he’d ever seen. They really needed to hire a graphic designer or something because this was a horrific design.

But it would be good for Jason to have a hobby. As far as he was aware, he had none. And if he could socialise with people, make friends outside of the hero community, even better.

Also if it gets him out of the house before Dick has a chance to challenge him to a spar, then all the better.

Speaking of, he should probably notify him. He started to call Dick while strolling outside.

He walked up to his car and noticed, there was no car. Jason had probably taken it. How did he forget how much trouble that boy really was? Now he just had to survive everyone’s tormenting as he changed the number to Alfred’s instead. Hopefully no one else would find out about the car.

Chapter Text

The sound of impact echoed throughout the cave, backtracked by the squeaks of bats and the hum of electricity. Footsteps were quiet on the stairs, and didn’t disturb the man in front of the exercise equipment.

Dick crossed his arms and leant against a table, watching as his little brother attacked the training dummy. He was still in full clothing, not even shorts or anything. What kind of masochist works out in a turtle neck?

Dick had planned to leave this afternoon, but with Jason disappearing and now Roy turning up completely out of the blue, he’d rearranged his plans. Tomorrow morning it was. He didn’t want to go at all, hang out with his little brother a lot longer, but he had to get back to Blüdhaven. He still had a job after all, and a city to look after. God knows what blockbuster was doing in his absence. Probably something he didn’t actually want to know about. Well that was tomorrow Dick’s problem.

Jason drove a knuckle right into the middle of the punching bag, almost knocking it right off the hook. That was pretty impressive. Also concerning. It’s just training, he doesn’t need to hit so hard. What would it be like to get punched by him?

And because Dick apparently hates himself, he started clapping. “What do you want, dickhead?” Jason snarled, barring his teeth at him.

Seeing that scar was jarring as always, but fortunately Dick was a master of ignoring stuff, just like everyone else in this family.

“I came down here to do a little bit of light training but seems you’re busy canoodling with the equipment,” that drew another snarl from Jason, “so I was wondering if you wanted to spar?” Dick asked with a wide grin.

Jason barked out one harsh and cold laugh. “You want to spar? With me? Oh Dickie, I won’t hold back you know.”

Dick’s grin widened. “Good, cause neither will I.” He replied. A blatant lie. Of course he was going to hold back, he didn’t want to hurt his little brother, no matter what.

Jason didn’t seem to have that problem. He was already replacing the tape wrapped around his knuckles. Scarred knuckles with white lines along the fingers and gathered by the broken and bruised fingernails. Jason raised an eyebrow at Dick as he started to change right in front of him.

“What? I’m not going to fight you in jeans. I might be limber, but I’m not that limber.” Dick said with a smile, pulling on a pair of shorts.

Jason just sighed and shook his head. “I fight in a full armoured suit. You really need to work on your flexibility if you can’t handle jeans.” Jason said as if Dick wasn’t the most flexible out of all of them. Fact is, he could fight in jeans, he just didn’t want to. The friction was an absolute killer! And it was nice to not worry about tearing them every time he kicked or did a flip.

“Are you fighting in that? Won’t you get hot?” Dick asked, nodding to the outfit. The only piece of skin visible was Jason’s head and hands. The rest was clad entirely in black. Including his feet. Jason wanted to spar in socks?!

“You know what? Fine! Fuck you dickhead! Let’s go right now!” Jason snapped, ripping off the socks and his shirt.

Oh god. Dick knew it was bad but he didn’t know how bad. The scars carved into his skin were everywhere. And we’re those needle marks? What the hell did that insane bastard do?

Pain exploded behind his eyes, as he stumbled backwards, holding his nose. He could feel it start to drip. Thank god it wasn’t broken but that was all he could thank him for. He had to focus on this fight. He hadn’t expected Jason to strike so soon and that was so clever, using his own body and Dick’s feelings against him. He shouldn’t have been distracted so easily but it was hard not to want to take them all in.

The next strike, Dick managed to dodge. An uppercut to the jaw. Oh so Jason was fighting dirty. He saw how it was. Time to match that.

Dick smiled as he did a backflip, letting one leg extend out and nailing Jason in the chin with a knee.

Jason started to laugh, rubbing his jaw when Dick landed. “Say, how about we do this in suits? It’ll be good practice to actually fight someone competent again.” Jason said and Dick was inclined to agree.

He had been really out of practice, fighting the typical sloppy goons or metas who had no real training but were powerful solely due to what they were. Jason was none of that and he did kinda really want to see his suit.

“Yeah okay. Suit up!” Dick called out, punching Jason lightly in the arm before sprinting away to go get his own suit. He did a flip as he ran, purely to show off. It was disappointing when he didn’t hear Jason’s gasp of approval or even a sarcastic comment. Just any recognition would have been nice— oh Jason wasn’t there anymore. Apparently he moved even faster than Dick because he was already gone.

Oh well, he could do plenty more flips when he got back. He always loved when Jason would stare at him in amazement and try to subtly ask him to do another flip. Actually he liked it when everyone did it. He couldn’t help it, showmanship was in his blood.

When he came back, in his suit, he noticed Bruce standing in the cave. “Hey B! Isn’t it a little early for patrol?” Dick greeted with a wave.

The man turned to face him, in his suit sans cowl and sighed. Uh oh. That wasn’t good. Sighs meant disappointment. What was there to be disappointed with this time?

“No. Jason asked to go out on patrol. On his own.” Bruce said.

Yikes. No wonder there was the frowny face. Anyone going on patrol on their own Bruce wasn’t happy with, but Jason particularly? Even Dick didn’t want him to. Last time Jason went off on his own it went badly and this Jason, they don’t know anything about. He’s almost a stranger and just barely hanging on to reality if the past week was any indicator. What would he be like if he went out on patrol— wait. Idea.

“What if we do a test run first? A gauntlet, like you used to do. Jason and I were gonna spar in our suits but what if we did that you know, in the streets? It’ll be fun! And a great measure of whether or not he’s good enough to go out!” Dick suggested with a huge grin.

Bruce took quite a while to agree, but eventually did. Just as Jason walked towards them.

Holy…. The suit was something else. Forget the whole legendary Batman, Jason looked ready to declare war in that suit. He looked like a soldier and Dick did not like it one bit. The helmet in his hand looked interesting though. Were those bat ears? He distantly wondered what that was about.

“What are you two planning?” Jason growled, glaring at them as he saw them standing side by side.

Bruce opened his mouth to explain but Dick figured it would be better from big brother! Jason clearly had issues with Bruce. He noticed how he flinched or balled his fists every time he rounded the corner.

“We were going to go out and fight in the city instead! Batman wants to test your capabilities and see if you’re good enough to patrol. So, gauntlet time!” Dick said, fist pumping the air.

This was apparently the wrong move. Or the right one? He genuinely couldn’t tell when it came to Jason. He changed his mind so often.

“Fuck you and your tests old man. I’ll fight, sure, but not to prove anything to you,cause I will win.” Jason snapped at Bruce, checking him with his shoulder as he went.

They were almost the same height when Jason stood up straight. It was so cute to see. His little brother, no longer little, oh where did the time go? Actually, Jason was definitely taller than Dick. Now that was just rude. No way would he be the little one of the big brothers. Not when he was meant to be the older one.

“I’m just better than you.” Jason said with a nasty smile, grinning at them before pulling the helmet on. LED display lit up, with the white eyes casting an ominous glow. “Are we going or not?” Jason demanded in a robotic tone that sounded very inhuman.

Dick definitely didn’t like that. He was getting villain vibes from the whole outfit right now. Not a vibe you want from a hero, typically. Unless you have some insane undercover mission, but that’s probably not relevant here.

“Oh my god, why did you let him put on the suit?!” Anderson yelled from behind them. He was still standing at the entrance to the cave, staring at Jason.

“If it was a problem, why did you let him wear it initially?” Bruce challenged, looking at Anderson.

“Because he’s my boss! I ain’t telling him what to do.” Anderson replied as Dick recalled the several instances where Anderson very much did tell Jason, and everyone else, exactly what to do.

“He wouldn’t have been able to stop me anyway. None of you could. Are we done wasting our time here?” Jason said, checking the holsters on his hips and loading the— oh my god, those are guns. Actual proper guns. With live bullets. How was Bruce okay with this?!

One look at Bruce told him that he definitely wasn’t. But Bruce wasn’t very good at saying no to Jason. As evidenced by the fact that they now had two strays staying at the manor. One of which nobody knew anything about, and background checks gave absolutely nothing on which was incredibly suspicious. Yes, he checked. Or rather, he had Oracle check.

Jason had already left before anyone could stop him, apparently he was tired of waiting around. But judging by the look of horror on Anderson’s face, it could be more than that. Just what exactly had he agreed to?

Chapter Text

Golden and yellow still mingled in the sky, pink drifting away into grey as the street lights flickered on, each one shining down on the cracked concrete. Wind rushed past as blue and black streaked above the cars weaving below.

Nightwing twisted as he fired another line, laughing along with the wind. To be out here with Jason, this was something he never thought he’d get again. He mourned and lost Jason. Mourned all the chances he wasted by running away, starting somewhere else. The only times he met up or hung out with Jason was when Bruce was away or was forced to work with Batman. He was just waiting to hear Jason’s laugh again. Like he always did when he was Robin.

Gotcha. He thought as he saw the flash of the Knight’s helmet. Arkham Knight. It was a bit of a concerning name, especially with Jason confessing that he was in Arkham, but everyone had their quirks. Just look at Batman, he dresses as a bat and lives in a cave inhabited by bats to conquer his fear of bats. There’s no way that’s healthy so he wasn’t gonna judge Jason for it. At least Nightwing wasn’t a real thing he could use as a trauma blanket.

He dropped down onto the rooftop where he saw the flash, looking around. “Here knighty knight! Come here boy!” Dick called out, whistling as he looked around.

Something was behind him. He spun around on his toes, fists raised. As per the rules, all he had to do was tag Jason. Him or any of the other bats that were out tonight. Which also apparently included Roy for some inexplicable reason. Or maybe Roy was on Jason’s side. Who knows what’s happening there, but whatever it is is bound to be trouble. Hopefully it’s the fun ‘boys will boys’ kind and not the ‘oh no better get a prison cell ready’ kind. Although he had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be the latter.

Behind him was nothing at all. He kept his fists raised, looking around suspiciously. There wasn’t even anywhere to hide on this rooftop. It was a flat roof. Where could he have even gone?

Pain exploded behind his eyes as a boot collided with his back. He stumbled forwards and swung a first around, aiming at the direction the hit came from. He hit open air. How the hell had he not even heard Jason move? There’s no way all that heavy armour was quiet and that helmet of his, how could he not see it?

He whirled around again, searching for Jason. That’s when he saw a flash of movement from a different rooftop. It seemed that his brother was running. Well, if he wanted to play tag then he’d be happy to oblige. Here he comes!

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The whistling wind whipped hair against his face. He really should have tied it back before he set out. Roy carefully set down his bow and tied his long hair back. He’d stopped caring about his appearance a long while back and it only got worse. He didn’t have time or money to waste on a haircut and it wasn’t like he was going on any dates or meeting up with friends. He didn’t have any of those. Although…

That was when he caught sight of the Arkham Knight, landing on a rooftop well within view of Nightwing.

Jason was the one person who always understood him and didn’t hate him for what he’d done, the only person that didn’t make him feel dirty. Now, he’d probably encourage him. That was most likely bad for his health and foreseeable future but damn was it nice to be accepted. And not by guys who just wanted to use you for your wallet or their next fix. Jason genuinely didn’t seem to want anything from him. Maybe apart from the fact that he pissed Batman off, but that was something he would very happily do on his own. If he wasn’t, you know, scared of losing his kneecaps.

Roy aimed his bow and arrow once again, watching as the knight circled around Nightwing. Absolutely fascinating. He seemed to have toggled noise cancelling in his boots. One minute there was silence, (Roy had set up cameras, which he was currently watching on his phone, all throughout the city, he wanted to keep track of where Batman was so he didn’t lose his aforementioned kneecaps) and then there was sound. For a split second which threw Nightwing off. He moved towards the sound, the Knight already behind him.

Damn Jason moved fast. A foot collided with Nightwing and Jason was gone again, moving rooftops. Roy also adjusted his position so he could keep watching, arrow notched as Nightwing gave chase.

Blindly following Jason right into a trap. As soon as Nightwing landed on the rooftop near Jason, a bolt of electricity dropped Nightwing to his knees. With one swift kick to the head, Jason had him out cold.

Next to Dick, on the wall, was a device which looked suspiciously like a mounted stun gun keyed into certain bio signatures given the fact that it was clearly still on but wasn’t affecting the Knight. Goddamn where did Jaybird get this thing cause it was fucking beautiful. Wait. He recognised that casing, that was definitely from the bat cave cause Dick used something like this before but for smoke bombs. Did Jason build this?! Maybe if Roy asked very nicely Jason would show him his toys.

Jason knelt down and restrained Dick with a pair of handcuffs, also specially designed. They had to be cause he’s never seen them before. Oh, these were so beautiful. If they weren’t currently restraining someone— and he actually knew how to open them— he would absolutely be picking them apart.

Jason whipped out a gun, pointing it right at Dick’s head. His finger was on the trigger and Roy nearly shattered his phone. He fumbled with it as he shoved it back in his pocket and swung the bow over the edge to aim at Jason.

He really didn’t want to shoot him but it was a better alternative than letting him kill Dick. He had him within sights, taking a steadying breath, when a bright spark shone in the night.

The gun clattered from Jason’s hand, a batarang sticking out of it, with the caped crusader himself looming on a rooftop nearby. The moon casting a silhouette around his figure, cloak flapping in the wind with the Arkham Knight’s challenging stance matching and yet opposing the stoic one of the legend before them.

And all Roy could think was, ’damn, no wonder everyone regards him as an urban legend. Should have brought the popcorn for this one.’

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As soon as that gun glinted in the moonlight, Bruce knew he had to intervene. Something wasn’t right. Jason would let Dick beat him to near death, but is fully read to kill him over a fight he already won? The batarang was between his fingers without a second thought, already arching through the air.

Jason turned and faced him, a silent stand off between the both of them. What was he thinking? What was going through his head, or was it the possible infection taking over? Results hadn’t come back yet, not with Anderson currently analysing it as well as a very select few members within the league.

All it did was feed into his paranoia. What if this was the Joker taking over? What if this was the moment he lost Jason forever? But no, the joker was never this silent, never this measured and calculating. Oh sure he knew how to plan and could be calculating if he wanted, but it was far less fun. Especially when Batman was involved.

Jason moved first, firing the second pistol before Bruce even registered it had left its holster. He dodged to the side, jumping down onto the rooftop in front of Jason.

He ran forwards, going for the gun. Jason saw what he was doing, he was getting sloppy when it came to him, and threw the gun aside. Instead, he did a backflip.

Right off the rooftop.

’No! He was going to lose him, again!

Instead, he heard the snap of a line. Jason swung himself forwards, and to the next rooftop.

“I’m not letting you catch me that easily old man. You want to make this a game, let’s make it a game.” The Knight drawled, robotic synthesiser masking the harsh undertones to the words. Masking it to everyone but him.

Jason wasn’t doing well. Physically he was a wonder to behold. The fact that he brought Nightwing down so easily was a stats member in and of itself, but no. This was different. Thinking this was a game is what killed Robin and now the stranger before him was unlike anything he came to know as the new Jason.

Jason was emotional and unpredictable and erratic. This Jason was cold and harsh and seemingly lacking all emotions or empathy. Jason was always a little too empathetic towards victims and cared too much about family. The fact that he could even think of shooting Dick told him something was very wrong. He should have listened to Anderson.

He followed him onto the rooftop. It was time to end this. Now.

Instead of attacking or moving to another rooftop like Bruce suspected, Jason swung over the edge and started climbing down the side. He hit the streets and started to run.

Bruce was hot on his heels, following every step. Until he heard the scream of a woman. Down an alley, there was a girl lying on the ground with a man standing over her. And Jason did nothing.

He ran right past but Bruce, he had to intervene. He wouldn’t let anything happen in his city. Even if it seemed that Jason would.

Something definitely wasn’t right here.

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Movement flashed across the rooftops, followed by an unfamiliar face. Or rather, mask. White eyes glowed in the dark, flickering blue playing across the face as armour plates slid across each other. The bat ears were a bold look. If he didn’t know better, he would say that Batman had a new look. But that wasn’t Batman. In fact, it looked suspiciously like he was fighting against, holy shit was that Nightwing? What’s bluebird doing here?

Well, it doesn't matter. The bat bastard was winning, against Nightwing. Whoever he was, he was good. Maybe even someone he could have on his side.

That thought was only reinforced by not only the electricity, but also the way in which he toyed with Batman. Damn this guy was stealing all his ideas and his thunder.

He watched as this masked man kept moving despite the crime scene ahead. Batman would take care of it, undoubtedly, but it was more than enough of a delay to allow them to slip away.

Away and into the alley where he took care of an approaching man from behind. He then gave Batman a salute and took off again.

But not before he heard the masked man yell, “this isn’t over yet Old Man, you still got all night to tag me!”

“Be careful Arkham Knight, the gauntlet is about a lot more than just skill.” Batman warned, voice low yet soft in a way he’d only ever heard it as a kid.

Oh so this guy was another batbrat? Well then. Just where exactly did Batman drag this one from?

He gritted his teeth, green creeping into his vision at just the thought of another replacement. And one that clearly didn’t follow Batman’s rules. So it was okay for this Arkham Knight and the new Robin to tow the line but when he did it he was a mistake?

Oh this new kid was gonna regret meeting Batman. Just like he did. Forget Robin and Red Robin, this guy’s got his attention now.

Chapter Text

The bats squeaked in the cave as the beat of wings echoed overhead. The soft hum of computer fans filling the space as the blue glow of the screens washed over Anderson and Tim Drake. Tim was an interesting one, he elected to stay inside and observe the gauntlet rather than participate when he found out it was the Boss running it. He hadn’t specified what he thought of the Arkham Knight, but Anderson could tell he was wary and suspicious. Fear didn’t play into it, but it should have. After all, Boss nearly strangled him earlier and instead Bruce and all the others chased after Jason to make sure he was okay, and then gave him whatever he wanted. What about Tim? Shouldn’t he get special attention or at least not to have his attacker coddled and essentially praised?

Something that Anderson was determined to rectify. “Chin up. Literally. Move your head.” Anderson instructed him, pressing an ice pack to Tim’s throat.

“What? Why? It’s not a big deal, I’ve had worse.” Tim said, tilting his head anyway.

“That doesn’t matter. Just because you’ve had worse doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. One time I broke my collar bone, does that mean that my broken toe hurt any less?” Anderson asked, gently pressing it against the dark bruises which had formed. The swelling wasn’t great, and this probably should have been done much earlier, but it was getting done now and that’s what mattered.

“Well no but it isn’t even broken. I’m fine. Really.” Tim protested but didn’t move away.

“Bullshit. Just cause you’re not dying on the floor doesn’t mean you’re fine. And yeah physically you’ll be all good in a few hours, bit of makeup and no one will even know, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay. Boss physically healed. He’s fine, mostly, but would you say he’s actually okay?” Anderson asked, scowling at Tim.

“Who, Jason? I’ve only known him for a few hours and I would say he’s definitely not fine.” Tim replied quietly, staring at the computer.

“Exactly. And he never ever actually talks about what’s wrong or what happened so he never gets better. He just bottles it up till he strangles someone. So really, how are you?” Anderson levelled a glare at Tim who had shrugged.

“I’m actually okay. As I said, I’ve had worse. From people in this family. Damian has stabbed me multiple times and keeps threatening my life. Jason at least didn’t mean it, he just snapped and I’m glad I’m the one who got it. The others don’t deserve that, but I can handle it.”

Jesus Christ. What was wrong with this family?! Tim thinks getting strangled is fine and he can handle it? No, that's definitely not fine at all.

“Bullshit. You’re what, 15?” Anderson started but Tim interrupted.

“17.” He muttered.

“Right, 17. Still a kid. Jason is just a little kid too and he didn’t deserve to be threatened or attacked. You don’t either. Really, what have you done wrong? Have you killed anyone?” Tim shook his head as Anderson asked the question, “maliciously stole or committed fraud?” Another head shake, “so really, what’s so bad about what you’ve done?”

“I’m not good enough. Oh sure I’m a great Robin and exactly what Batman needed but I’m not good enough for this family. I can’t provide what they want or need and I definitely wasn’t good enough for my parents or enough to save my friends. They’re all gone cause of me.” Tim said.

Anderson snorted. “Again, bull fucking shit. Not good enough? You don’t need to be good. You don’t need to be enough. You can contribute absolutely nothing and still be enough for a family because you don’t need to prove your place or earn it. Whole point of family is unconditional love and with your friends and parents, would you say that the people Batman lost was because he wasn’t good enough?”

Tim shook his head, whispering that Batman was the best. “Exactly. Batman is one of the best and tragedies still happen on his watch because that’s what happens. Tragedies are just tragedies that in the end can never be prevented. What about Jason, do you think he deserves a place in this family?”

“Of course!” Tim cried, indignated. “He’s the second Robin and Bruce’s son.”

“And you’re not? Bruce’s son I mean. Just because Jason was first doesn’t mean a single thing. You’re still family to them. I can tell based on how excited they were when you returned home. They’re just muddled up right now because of misplaced guilt towards Jason. You matter. A hell of a lot and you don’t have to do anything to earn or keep that. Hell, Jason got that and he’s way worse a person than you. He has stolen and lied maliciously and taken lives. Does that mean he’s not worthy of this family?”

Tim said nothing, going silent before suddenly jumping at the computer. On the one security feed was Jason, with a gun in his hand and Nightwing on the ground. No, not Jason. This was the Arkham knight. His boss was back.

Fuck. His boss was back.

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Ticking echoed throughout the dark room cast in blue and white. The clock chimed as the hour struck and Barbara shifted forwards. Her wheelchair scraping against the wooden floor as fingers flew across the keyboards. Footage of Nightwing and Batman projected on screen, and some security footage capturing Red Arrow of all people. What was he doing here? Nevermind. The one thing that caught her attention was that of a new figure.

Someone everyone was calling the Arkham Knight.

She quickly brought up the cave footage, scrubbing through the recordings from the past few weeks. It was all there, Jason, alive, and everyone knew. They knew and they just never told her. Like she wouldn’t care. It made her blood boil, fingernails digging into the armrest on her chair as she gritted her teeth. How dare they. She might not have been the kindest or most forgiving towards him initially, but he still mattered. He still meant something to her.

And no one even bothered to mention this to her until the very last second. Until they needed her and couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.

She patched into Batman’s comms, ready to give him an earful, when Dick’s mask footage went black.

“Oracle to Batman, Nightwing is down. You should get over there fast, I think something is happening with the Arkham Knight. Thanks for telling me about that by the way.” She said coldly, ending the call before Batman even had time to respond.

She focused on the security cameras in the area, each one watching Jason and Dick. Nightwing went down quickly. It was fast, it was efficient, it was clinical, and so far from what Robin ever was. Jason was always far too emotional and open with what he was feeling. She could read it on his face clear as day. This new version, whoever he was, was a total stranger.

Yes the helmet hid most of it. But that didn’t hide his body language and his body told her nothing at all. It was stoic and way too similar to Batman’s for her liking.

Oh god. Batman had to get there soon.

“Batman, he has a gun. Please tell me you’re close, he’s got it to Nightwing’s head.” She said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

Dick. She couldn’t lose him. She’d already lost Jason, she won’t lose another Robin. Jason might be physically back but it wasn’t him. She was still looking through the manor footage and not once did she see glimpses of her Jason. Of the one she remembered.

Sure she saw the anger. But that wasn’t burning emotions that bubbled up and came out as rage because he cared far too much. This anger was harsh and cold and calculating. This was the kind of anger she could feel in Two-Face and Bane and everyone she associated with the worst deeds. Because they didn’t care about lives or others. Her Jason cared too much. This one didn’t care at all. He found it funny, throwing his pain in Dick’s face.

It was like she was looking at two different people. One drowned in himself every night and the other was a hollow shell. That hollow shell was the one currently facing off against Batman.

His technique was beautiful. He was beautiful in the night, the way he avoided every hit and kept running. Evading Batman in his own city wasn’t easily done.

Unless he turned the city against him. Robin would never run past a cry for help. This? This wasn’t Robin in the slightest.

This was a stranger and her and Bruce were going to have words after this. Very strict words indeed.

Chapter Text

“No way! You did that?!” Roy’s voice echoed through the cave, bouncing off every surface as a hologram was projected from the table in front of them. Jason ran his hand along it, hologram rotating to reveal the wiring on what looked like a chest piece.

“Yep.” Jason said, popping the p and crossing his arms. “Optic deflection armour. Built it myself so I only had a couple, but the whole thing scrambles imaging and any type of camera so you look completely blind to any surveillance or mask footage. How do you think I was able to evade Batman and Nightwing so easily? All I had to do was activate the armour built into my own suit and slip into the shadows.” Jason explained as Roy practically moaned. He pushed Jason aside and took over the table, inspecting every inch of the armour.

He was so preoccupied with the hologram, he didn’t even notice the rumble of the batmobile engine. The car rolled in and Bruce hopped out. Jaw clenched and shoulders tight, he stalked towards Jason.

How could he? Didn’t he care anymore? This gauntlet was meant to be a friendly test. One that he failed miserably. Sure he never got caught but that didn’t matter. Oh he was skilled, unbelievably so, but he was toying with them. Playing around and very nearly shot Nightwing. That goes against almost every single unofficial code of conduct on the field. He had to know that. He just didn’t care.

Look at him, acting all smug with arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Jason smirked and asked, “what? There a problem, old man?”

Was there a problem? Of course there was a problem. What the hell was he thinking? “What were you thinking?! You know what, no. I should have done this a long time ago but you’re grounded.” Bruce growled, forgetting that he still had the cowl on.

Jason had the gall to laugh right in his face. “Really? What am I, twelve? Are you gonna kick me out, dad?” Jason said, spitting out the final word and grinning wickedly.

“I just might if you keep behaving like this! You cannot attempt to kill your brothers!” Bruce roared, throwing one hand in the air.

“Why not? It’s not like they’re actually my brothers. I barely know these people. Who cares if they die, if you die? Death is a release, they should count themselves as lucky if they do end up dead. At least they don’t have to live with you anymore.” Jason said, still grinning wickedly as he stood in front of the table with Roy paying way too much attention to the schematics or anything else that wasn’t Bruce.

Not that it would have mattered. All the air left Bruce’s lungs and it took everything in him not to collapse in on himself. It reminded him so much of the last argument he and Jason had when he saw him alive for the last time. Jason. God, this stranger wasn’t Jason. It was just someone wearing his face and name and he should probably kick him out or lock him up. He was dangerous and out of control and yet, every time he looked at him, all he could see was that smiling little Robin who would sneak money out to the street kids and fall asleep in the library and eat more food than he should.

He had to keep telling himself that it wasn't Jason. It wasn’t. He almost believed himself, almost. Until Jason would look at him and that’s all it would take.

All it would take to drown in memories yet again.

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The rare summertime sun slipped through the windows, moving across the wooden floors and settling on faded pages. The rustling of the pages was the only sound in the library, beyond the soft breaths of the boy tucked up on the couch. One leg was draped over the armrest, the other tucked underneath him and head nearly touching the floor, book held above him.

The door creaked as it slowly edged open, Bruce poking his head in.

“What are you doing, chum?” He asked, voice scratchy and eyes lined with bags. It took everything in him to force his hands to stop shaking and simply breathe.

The boy raised his head, blue eyes locking onto Bruce as he tried to smile. “Oh hey Bruce. I’m reading 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.” The smile was broken and accompanied by watery eyes.

“I see. But you don’t read.” Bruce whispered, still standing in the doorway.

“I know but I had to finish it. He’d started reading and I couldn’t just let it stay unfinished. I thought maybe if I just tried I would saw what he saw in them but I don’t… I just don’t get it.” Dick whispered, sitting up and setting the book down. He looked away as he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Bruce was silent as he sat down next to him and pulled him close.

“Okay. We’ll finish it together. I read a page then you read one.” Bruce said softly, looking down at Dick who nodded.

“Okay. And… and I want to read the last chapter to him. He should know how it ended.” Dick whispered, looking up at him.

“We will. If we get to the chapter by tomorrow, we can go to the…” Bruce couldn’t even say the word grave, saying it meant it was real, that Jason wasn’t there and just late home from school, “to go see him. I think he’d like that.”

Dick nodded and leant his head against Bruce’s chest as he started to read.

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A rush of air filled the cave, dragging Bruce back to the present. They could hear the silence of engines as the batwing landed, a silence immediately replaced by the chatter of voices. Or rather, one voice.

Stephanie practically bounced out, stopping in her tracks as she saw Jason and Roy with Batman glaring at them.

“Have all my dreams come true? Is Batman actually throwing a cave party right now?!” Stephanie called out, waving at the two. Jason looked like a deer in headlights, staring at Stephanie.

He didn’t wave, but Roy did. He waved for both of them. “Hi. If this is a party, it’s not a very fun one.” Roy replied with a wide grin.

“Yeah. Batman doesn’t do fun. This is yet another lecture, to no one’s surprise.” Jason muttered, turning a glare on Bruce.

“Really Bats? We’re gone for a few months and you already adopted two more kids? Please tell me they’re the not the next robins.” Steph said, hands on her hips.

Jason snorted mirthlessly as Roy spluttered. “Robin? Me? No way! I’m pretty sure the only reason Batman hasn’t stolen my kneecaps is because of Knighty here. Or should I call you Arky?” Roy asked, turning to look at Jason.

Jason gritted his teeth and growled, “neither. One more stupid nickname and I will take your kneecaps.”

“Is that a promise?” Roy batted his eyelashes at him. Before Jason had a chance to strangle him, Cass stepped out of the plane.

She looked around and surveyed everyone. Bruce was nervous, guilty, angry and grieving but also full of affection.

The new people, the red head, he was affectionate, happy, and joyful but with a hint of nervousness and anticipation. He was expecting something to go wrong and forcing himself to be happy for everyone else, to distract them from what he thought would come next.

The second of the new ones, with the dark hair and blue eyes, he was guarded and anxious, scared. There were too many scars he kept trying to hide. Self conscious. But still scared.

“Won’t hurt. You’re safe.” Cass said to the boy. His jaw set and he glared daggers at her. She was wrong, he wasn’t scared of her, he was scared of himself. His whole body was so tightly strung he was going to snap if he let even the smallest of cracks show. He didn’t want to hurt anyone by the way he was holding back, and seemed especially wary of Bruce. Bruce, it was complicated whenever he looked at the man. Ready to attack and also holding back. Hatred and affection at the same time. It was complicated and overwhelming.

At least Stephanie was simple. She was confused and curious. Wanting to know exactly who these people are, just like she did.

“Steph! Cass! You’re back!” Tim called from the entrance. He hurried down to meet them, bandages wrapped around his throat. He flinched as he went past the scarred one, minute, but there. He was afraid of him.

“You hurt him.” She growled at the scarred one, standing in front of Tim.

The scarred one seemed remorseful, and guilty. But said nothing to deny or acknowledge it, just shrugged as if he didn’t care. But he did, and all that anger and tension was bleeding into guilt and yet more tension but this time to hold himself back from attacking her rather than Bruce.

“Cass, it’s okay. Really. Oh uh Steph, Cass, this is Roy Harper,” the redhead waved, “and Jason Todd.”

Steph squeaked. “Wait. The Jason Todd?! Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Which was the wrong thing to say.

The tension snapped, like a rubber band. Jason moved forwards, stalking towards Steph like a hunter. Cass jumped in front of her, glaring at Jason who didn’t seem to care.

“Everyone keeps saying that and I probably should be, but guess what Blondie?” He spat the word with as much vehemence as he could muster, his whole body trembling with rage and hatred, “I’m here. I’m alive. You got a fucking problem with that?!”

Bruce muttered, “language,” under his breath. Another wrong move. Jason grabbed the closest thing, a batarang, and threw it at Bruce’s head. Bruce was perfectly fine, dodging it easily, but the tension between the two of them was palatable. She had to do something before either of them did something they’d regret. There was already too much guilt between them, they didn’t need more.

“Spar?” She asked, stepping up to Jason. He blinked several times, shoulders raised and back hunched. Guarded, confused, wary.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bruce asked softly. He was scared. Scared for Jason.

“What, you think I can’t take her on, Bruce?” Jason spat, laughing mirthlessly. Anger. Insecurity.

“I’m not worried about Cassandra. She can handle herself. I’m more concerned for you.” Bruce said.

“Oh yeah? And where’s this concern coming from all of a sudden? You try to fucking ground me and freak out over one little incident I barely fucking remember and now you care? Care about what, my safety? If you really cared you woulda shown up five fucking years ago! You know what? No, fuck you old man, I’m doing this. Come on whatever your name is, let’s fucking spar.” Jason seethed, stripping off the armour plating he was still wearing.

Anger, but not at Bruce. Anger and hatred, towards someone else. He was speaking through Bruce, eyes distant and not focused on him. He didn’t blame Bruce, Bruce was just an outlet for his anger. For his pain. Maybe she could give him a new outlet.

She nodded and took off pieces of her uniform, taping her hands and readying herself on the mat. She didn’t know who Jason was, just that Bruce cared for him deeply, that meant she had to care too. She would help. She had to because it would help Bruce.

Jason mirrored her actions, before stepping into the middle of the training mat and raising his arms. He got into a fighting stance, feet slightly spread and fists ready.

Nervous. Scared. Regret. Regret but for what? He twitched, going to strike.

She struck first, blocking it with ease and counteracting with a strike of her own. She kicked his knee, a growl escaping his lips. Fear. He was scared of his own rage.

He went to attack again, this time kicking at her and leaning back too far on his ankle. She swept the foot out from under him. He winced as he fell, an old injury maybe? He avoided getting back up on that same ankle, it definitely hurt. He kept his back hunched, protecting it and his shoulders, rarely moving them beyond a basic position. Pain.

It hurt to fight. Hurt him bad. But he kept doing it.

He took another strike, this time aiming for her jaw. She avoided it and struck him in the stomach. He snarled again and threw another punch.

Bruce stepped forwards as Jason snarled, ready to intervene. Cass shook her head. They were both fine.

Then Jason’s eyes locked onto Bruce. It wasn’t fine.

Pain, guilt, fear, all gone. Gone and leaving nothing but anger and a shell. He didn’t move, waiting for her.

She obliged and aimed a kick at his thigh. He twisted and threw a punch, overextending the boundaries of what he had before. He hit her in the face, clipping her jaw.

Pain. But for her. If she hadn’t moved away at the last second, she would have broken something. He was using lethal force.

Whoever this was, wanted her and everyone in this room dead. No guilt. No fear. Just rage and one singular goal.

Her heart stopped as she realised what she didn’t like about this stranger. He reminded her of David Cain.

Chapter Text

Voices filled the halls as the soft patter of rain came from beyond the large windows behind the embroidered couch. Flickering firelight caught red hair, making it shine auburn.

One arm was draped over the couch, not quite touching the body next to him. Jason sunk into the cushions, laughing quietly at something Roy said.

“So you’re Queen’s kid, right? What’s your beef with him?” Jason asked casually.

Roy stiffened, sitting up straight. “I’m not Oliver’s kid. He kicked me out years ago. When I…” He took a deep breath and sighed, closing his eyes. “I was a drug addict as a kid. Oli freaked and sent me to rehab. I was clean for a while then my daughter, Lian, she… Well she died and I went off the rails. Our relationship, Oli and I, it was already strained but this? Well I don’t even wanna fix it anymore. I needed him and he wasn’t there for me so screw him.”

Jason nodded, watching Roy carefully. “I know the feeling. Sure it wasn’t necessarily Bruce’s fault, I know that now, but he still left me. For years and then replaced me like I was nothing. I spent years with Joker. These scars came from him.” Jason confessed under his breath, leaning forwards with elbows on his knees and hands dangling between open legs, staring at the floor.

“Shit. Sorry man. What happened?” Roy asked. It was kind and gentle and not judgemental. He was just curious, not trying to fix him or make him better like all the others. He knew what it was like to be deemed broken by everyone around him. Admittedly very differently to Jason, but it’s the same idea.

He’d spent years trying to push it away or ignore it. Years trying to block out the laughter and the tingling on his skin, the burning of his cheek.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it but gist of it is I went after the Joker alone, he captured me and tortured me under Arkham for years. I think it was like two or three or maybe one. I have no idea, just that he gave me special gifts on anniversaries but I don’t know if he made them up or lied about them to have an excuse to hurt me in a new way. I had no choice but to become someone else under that asylum. I still don’t know who that person is or if I can learn to accept them or not, just that I’m not who I was.” Jason confessed, not looking at Roy the whole time.

“Oh man. I don’t know what to say. Just that I get what you mean about not being who you were. When you said you didn’t remember me I was actually kinda relieved because that meant you could stop comparing me to the past like everyone else does. When I’m sober I hate who I am but when I’m drunk or high I don’t care. I’m just numb and I love feeling nothing at all.” Roy said, staring at the fireplace.

“Yeah.:.. Everyone wants me to be Robin again. I haven’t been Robin for a long time and the Arkham Knight, the man created under that asylum, he doesn’t care about anything but fixing his situation. Morality, consequences, lives, they mean nothing to him and only after I wake up from that trance and stop hearing his voice in my head do I realise that I have to live with his consequences. I have to deal with what he’s done and it’s not fair.” Jason said, burying his head in his hands.

“I don’t think any of this is fair. But what do you mean by his voice? Do you hear voices then?” Roy asked but was interrupted by footsteps in the hallway. Thank God Jason didn’t have to answer that question. He was sure Bruce was listening somewhere, he had to be. And he really didn’t want to see him try and deal with the fact that Jason had hallucinations.

Anderson leant against the doorframe, watching them. “What are you two still doing up? It’s past your bedtime.” He scolded as Jason scoffed and Roy guffawed.

“Bedtime?! We’re adults.” Roy protested.

Anderson snorted and rolled his eyes. “Barely. You, I'll give some leeway to. You get to stay up because you are sort of an adult,” he said to Roy, “but you,” he pointed at Jason, “you are going to bed. I don’t care what you have to say. I know for a fact you’re not sleeping at night so you’re going to bed extra early from now on until you get a full seven hours.”

“How do you know that?! What, do you watch me while I sleep?” Jason sneered, glaring at Anderson. Who was he to boss him around? And so what if Anderson was right, he didn’t need sleep anyway.

“Of course not because you don’t sleep. Can’t watch you sleep if you’re not doing it, now can I?” Anderson replied, one eyebrow raised. “Now no more protests. Go to sleep.”

“Or what? You gonna fire me? Kick me out? I’m your boss, remember?” Jason growled, jabbing a finger into Anderson’s chest.

“Were. You were my boss. Now you’re not, you’ve got no authority over you and you don’t own this house. If you don’t go to sleep right now, I’m telling Alfred. Then he’ll be here saying the same things I am.” Anderson said casually, swatting the finger away.

Jason growled again and stormed past him. Roy trailed after him, following him into his room. What the hell did he think he was doing?

“You have your own room don’t you? Why are you here?” Jason snapped. He didn’t mean to snap, not at Roy, he just felt like he was on the brink of losing it and the only way he could keep himself from a breakdown was anger. Anger seemed to be the only way he could survive ever since the asylum. Without the anger he was just hollow inside and feeling rage was better than feeling nothing at all.

“I dunno, I just hate being alone in my room. It’s too big and silent and empty.” Roy said with a shrug.

“What, so you thought you’d sleep here? Yeah right. Get out.” Jason said, climbing onto his bed with back facing Roy. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard the door close.

He didn’t actually want Roy to go but maybe this was better. If he did ever fall asleep, then he’d have to live with humiliation of Roy watching him scream. He’d never live that down, at least with Roy gone he didn’t have to worry about anyone else seeing how pathetic and broken he was.

“They already know, Robin. How could they not? Look at you. You’re weak and still hoping for somebody to save you. Well guess what? The only person that can save you is me, so why do you keep pushing me away?” The Arkham Knight sneered at him. In the silence he always heard his voice. Just the Knight and… him. Laughing. Nonstop. At Jason. It was a miracle he even fell asleep at all, lying there alone in a room full of laughter and cold crawling across his skin.

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“Batman. I have something you need to take a look at.” Tim called out, walking towards him. Steph had linked arms with him, skipping ahead and smiling.

Tim wasn’t nearly as excited or happy. But that was something that none of his children apart from Dick could come close to. Matching Stephanie’s energy. Why was she here?

Tim presented a folder filled with images. “It’s been kept quiet up until recently. Police didn’t want this getting out for fear of a gang war but recently twelve men were found executed. Their bodies were beheaded and the heads haven’t been found.” He explained.

There was an autopsy report of each body, linking them to that of some profiling drug dealers in Gotham. No wonder the police didn’t want to alert the public. This could cause panic if someone is making a move on the drug trade. The reports state that it was clean almost surgical kills, each one expertly done with a single strike and a very sharp but thin blade. Whoever did this must be well practiced with a sword or beheadings, both of which are concerning for very different reasons. But who could have possibly done it? No one currently in Gotham in the rogues gallery fit the bill.

“Well, guess they lost their heads!” Stephanie said with a bright grin. What was she doing here again?

“Why are you here?” Bruce asked.

She just shrugged in response, taking out a piece of gum and popping it in her mouth before chewing loudly. “I don’t really have anything else to do. Thought I’d come and help.”

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. Red Robin and I have it from here.” Bruce said, colder than he intended. That wasn’t a criticism, it’s just the gum was very annoying and distracting.

“Of course you do. Doesn’t mean I can’t help!” She said.

“It does because there’s nothing else to do. You’ve only been back from your mission for three days. Rest. Decompress. I have to go out and track down those missing heads.” Batman said, pulling up the cowl and stalking towards the batmobile.

“How’re you gonna do that?” Steph and Tim asked at the same time.

“By finding the other dealers they have connections to and hearing what they have to say. If their killer is making a move on the drug trade then I would say they’re next or the heads were used as a threat. Why else would they be removed from the scene? And a lot of the bodies died from gunshot wounds before the heads were removed. That suggests that the heads were meant for something. It was deliberate.” Batman explained to the two as he got inside the car.

“Stay here. Let me know if anything else comes up. I don’t want any of the others patrolling in Gotham while we have an unknown player active.” Bruce warned, closing the door and shutting out Tim and Steph’s protests.

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Limbs twitched as eyes followed, quiet murmurs and protests slipping from his lips as Jason lay there on the bed, shifting constantly in his sleep. Dreams were not kind to him. They never were but now, now they were worse than ever and cruel as can be.

Drip, drip, drip. Echoing across tile. Cold under feet. The skittering of bugs, roaches spreading over cracks as they ran across flesh.

Red droplets rolling down skin. Cockroaches burrowing into feet, toenails cracked, one ankle twisted the wrong way.

And the chains pulling against his shoulders. Hot pokers stabbed through his chest and cheek, arms and legs, a shriek ripping from Jason’s throat. He pulled at the chains, a snap echoing in the small room as they came loose from the hook.

A small room surrounded by tv screens. Chains hung from his wrists as he looked around, seeing himself in every screen.

No, a flickering blue helmet and white eyes. Robotic laughter filled the room from every side, a camera pointing down on Jason.

“You’re weak! Don’t you remember how you cried? How you begged for Batman to come, and he just forgot about you? Replaced you, Robin?” The Knight sneered.

Each screen lit up with an image of Jason, red yellow and green suit shining on the tv’s. He was fourteen again, but with every scar and broken bone. Chains still wrapped tightly around his wrists and cockroaches threading through his hair.

“I was the one who got us out! I’m the one who made sure you survived! And you just, what, think you can get rid of me?” Arkham Knight shouted, laughing mirthlessly. The screens went black and came on, with a gun to Nightwing’s head.

“You need me. I was keeping you safe from him.” The Knight said in Jason’s ear, cameras panning in on a gun tucked under his left hand. “See? If I hadn’t taken him down he would have killed you.”

“But… why would he do that?” Jason finally said, finding his voice after several moments of struggling to speak. This didn’t feel right, but this was Arkham. What if this was another trick and Nightwing was actually just an inmate? Maybe Arkham Knight really was saving him.

“Why? Because you’re weak. Pathetic. Broken. Everyone knows that, including Nightwing and Batman.” Arkham Knight sneered.

Laughter echoed in the room. Wild and manic and coming from the man behind him. The man with a bullet wound ripping apart his face as Bruce’s smile distorted upwards, one non bloody eye bright green, and green hair to match.

“Oh little birdie, I’m back!” Bruce cooed in his ear, bloody hand stroking the scar along Jason’s cheek.

“Can’t you see? They’re all plotting to get rid of you.” Arkham said with a cold chuckle.

Shout echoed in the small room as Jason shot upright. Hands trembled, skin cold and clammy as he tried to rip the cockroaches out of his hair. He pulled clumps out, ripping at more and more strands of hair.

Strong but gentle hands gripped his wrists and he bucked. He refused to let Bruce drag him back into those chains. He wouldn’t be chained up again, he wouldn’t and—

“Shh jaybird, it’s just me.” Roy whispered, slowly lowering his wrists. Jason blinked as he stared at him.

Red hair. Red, not green. He was safe. He was okay but maybe, maybe Roy wanted to get rid of him too?

“They wanna get rid of me. They know I’m weak. You want to get rid of me. I can’t do anything I’m useless and weak and broken and worthless and I don’t want to go back please don’t give me back to Bruce or Joker or or Nightwing he’s gonna kill me and he’s got a gun and oh god the cockroaches are on my skin I have to get them off!” Jason started to rake fingernails through his scalp.

Roy grabbed him and pinned his arms to his chest, holding him tight with the strong archers grip that even he couldn’t break. “Shh, it’s okay. No one is going to get rid of you. And if they try, I’ll beat them all up before they can and we’ll run away together okay, just you and me against the world.” Roy whispered, smiling softly.

Jason nodded slowly, pressing sweat stained forehead against Roy’s chest.

“He’ll betray you too. The only person you can ever count on is me.” Arkham Knight growled.

The words were quickly drowned out by Roy whispering something to him. It was a story. A legend he hadn’t heard before.

He wasn’t a child, he didn’t need a bedtime story. But maybe… Maybe it was okay just this once. Maybe if he fell asleep here Roy would chase away all the bad memories.

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Neon lights clashed with the yellow of streetlamps as they reflected on the wet concrete and asphalt. A snap echoed in the air as a wire went taut. Dangling above the streets, wind in his hair, the victim started to squeal.

“Okay okay! There’s a new guy taking over Black Mask’s territory! He got over half the drug supply turning to him!” The man yelled, eyes wide as he stared at the street below.

“Give me a name.” Batman growled, holding the line tight as he stood above him, leaning over the side of the four story building.

“I don’t know man! I don’t know! He just, he uh he wore a red helmet and stuff! Everyone’s just calling him red and stuff cause a all the red!” The man yelled. Batman grunted and pulled him up onto the rooftop, before sending a fist straight into his face and knocking the guy out cold.

Gliding across the sky, the moon shining above him, allowed him time to think. So this masked killer had set his sights on Black Mask. Why, for the underground he currently controlled? But if that was the case then why didn’t they also target Penguin? He still had his hands on the weapons trade. So why Black Mask? Personal reasons, or something more? Or did he just want to control drugs? In that case, why not approach Scarecrow, he could provide more drugs than anyone else. Of course, working with Scarecrow wasn’t something anyone did. Not if they wanted to survive.

So this masked man was targeting Black Mask, possibly the drug trade as a whole but it was only dealers that Black Mask didn’t control or who had sided with him but switched sides. Every dealer he had interrogated said the same thing, they didn’t know who he was but he had shown up suddenly and killed a lot of people.

They mentioned a rule. No dealing to kids. At least this man had some morals but still. Batman would never let a killer, masked or not, operate freely in his city. Not without serious repercussions.

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Cameras moved, tracking the dangling man. He could practically hear him squeal from six rooftops away. Cowards, all of them. This is why you don’t tell anyone anything because they can’t turn on you if they don’t know anything.

He chuckled to himself, setting up the sniper rifle. He tracked movement through the scope, watching as Batman took to the skies. A shot fired as soon as the dark Knight was out of sight. Red mist drifted across the rooftop, leaving the corpse of yet another drug dealer lying on a rooftop.

That’s four so far.

He packed away the gun and swung across the rooftops, rolling as soon as he hit the ground. Pulling out a batarang, one of several he had collected from around the city, he laid it down next to the body.

People should start getting the idea soon. No one talks to Batman and lives. Not about him anyway.

He chuckled to himself. This was a good night, now he just had to catch up with Batman. Thank god for security cameras. Oracle wasn’t the only one who could hack them, after all, it was frighteningly easy.

He’ll make sure everyone who forgot about him will remember, with a vengeance.

Especially the new kids. They’ll regret ever meeting Batman. All he had to do was distract Batman first, then the kids were easy pickings.

Chapter Text

Alarm blared, filling the cave as screens lit up. People moved and rushed past each other, the scraping of armour plates against one other, the pull of material across skin and the snap of weapons locking into place.

“Red Robin, you’re with Batgirl. I want you going after Harley Quinn.” Batman said and turned to Damian.

“Robin, you’re with me. We’re going after Poison Ivy. Orphan, I want you to take care of Two-face. Red Arrow, Nightwing and Arkham Knight, you track down Mr. Freeze. The rest of the Arkham prisoners have been secured, those are the only escapees we have to find. Make sure you have your rebreathers and air filters. You know your targets and you know where they are. Go.” Batman ordered before sprinting to the batmobile with Robin in tow.

The others ran to their respective vehicles, apart from Jason and Roy. Jason didn’t have one given that this was the first time Bruce let him out onto the field and only out of necessity, and Roy didn’t have one because he technically wasn’t part of the team. He was there to keep Jason in check. He seemed to be calmer around him.

It was weird how well Roy and Jason seemed to get on. They barely knew each other and already they had a friendship to rival his and Roy’s. Well, not that there was much of a friendship left thanks to Dick abandoning him. He was sure Roy still resented him for that. But he could see why. He needed him and Dick failed him. Ran away like a coward instead of helping out one of his best friends.

They all wouldn’t fit on his bike so they had to take one of the backup cars. An unregistered civilian car made for undercover operations. After all, a batmobile was far too flashy and obvious whenever Batman had to pull up somewhere all quiet like.

Sure it wasn’t as fast but it would do. It’s not like Freeze was going anywhere. He never did, he just hung out in a freezer and cried or whatever it was he did all day. Freeze was predictable which worked well in their favour. Especially having an archer on their side. They didn’t need to get close to immobilise him which meant less risk.

Freeze was indeed holed up in a freezer. Technically it was a warehouse, but it felt like a giant freezer. Ice crystals glinted and shone in the flourescent lights. Roy was shivering in the rafters next to them, hands shaking as he notched an arrow.

They probably should have remembered that Roy didn’t have the same gear because he definitely didn’t have any thermal armour. That would be a problem soon so they had to deal with this quickly.

Freeze walked along the warehouse floor, searching through crates for something. Whatever it was, Dick didn’t really care. He just helped Roy prime one of his electric arrows, and let him fire.

It hit its mark, dropping Freeze instantly as he convulsed within the electrified suit. His spasms stopped and he grew still, a thud echoing as he hit the ground.

“That was easy. I’m going outside before I lose my toes.” Roy said with a grin.

Jason merely nodded and jumped down with Dick. Dick brandished the handcuffs, with Jason helping restrain him. It took less than five minutes to get Freeze packed up and waiting for the cops.

Now all they had to do was actually alert the police. Something best done outside because even though the suit was insulated, it was still cold. Freeze would be out for a while. He can stand in the nice slightly mild Gotham weather and make a simple phone call, right?

Connecting to the police line, all he heard was static. Static and the lights flickering out, bulbs exploding one by one. Sparks rained down upon them with shards of glass as the city plunged into darkness.

Instantly the mask switched to night mode, eyes searching for the disturbance. There’s no way that could have been Victor. He was still out and he’d never done this before. So who exactly were they dealing with?

One light flickered on, buzzing and illuminating a single patch of concrete. Beneath it stood a man, yellow light reflected off bright red helmet. Slowly the man raised his head, gun snapping out and pointing at Nightwing.

“Well, Nightwing, I wasn’t expecting you. I was tracking the new birdie here,” he gestured towards Arkham Knight with the gun, “but I’ll take you too.” The man spoke in a synthetic and robotic voice that honestly reminded Dick a lot of the Arkham Knight’s. Speaking of. This was not gonna end well. He just hoped that nobody dies or almost dies by the end of—

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Yellow smoke crept into lungs, Dick coughing heavily and grabbing his throat. His knees hit the ground as hands started to shake. Clouds rolled through the street and past them both, as the stranger with the gun stood in front of them, waiting with a vial in his hand.

“Knight… Knight please. In my belt. The antidote.” Nightwing whispered, reaching out a hand for Jason.

But Jason, he didn’t care. Or rather, he didn’t hear him. Instead all he heard was laughter and the scraping of metal chains. Of barbed wire. Of the squeak of a chair and the scurry of rats and cockroaches.

Of the hiss of hot metal on skin.

”You’re pathetic. Neither of you will make it out of this alive if you don’t give in to me. Look at you, you can’t move without me. You need me now, or you’ll die on your knees thanks to some nobody with borrowed toys.” The Arkham Knight crooned, crouching down beside Jason and staring at him as he hit the concrete.

Helmet flickered as he lay on the ground, staring at the Arkham Knight. He could distantly hear the stranger talking. Gloating perhaps. He didn’t care. Their footsteps were coming closer and he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could only hear the laughter and the sizzling flesh.

The Knight was right.

Only he could save them now.

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Pathetic. Batman just doesn’t make them like he used to. Well given that Dick went down so easily, guess they were just weak to begin with. It took one little breath of fear toxin to bring them to their knees. Sure it was an experimental kind he stole from Crane, but it’s not like it could be any worse than normal, right? Seriously, how were they meant to stop anything if they just collapsed on the concrete right away. And this Knight guy breathed it through a full face mask. Didn’t he have air filters or something for this stuff?

“Wow. You really are pathetic. You know, Knight, I thought you’d be something special. Not one of those blinded birds who can’t do anything the bat doesn’t order them to. But here you go, falling apart as soon as you’re off mission. Well done.” Jason sneered, walking up to the kid and putting a gun to his head.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ wasn’t right. He was tall and built but that’s all Jason could tell about him and Bruce hadn’t publicly paraded the new one around so whoever he was, he was a bloody mystery to Jason.

Jason laughed and pressed the gun against the helmet, merely for effect.

Then his wrist snapped back. He switched to his second gun and snarled in rage, firing at the little fucker.

Who was gone.

Where he lay, was vacated, leaving only Nightwing crying and shaking on the ground.

“Now that’s more like it! Come on little bird, show me what you’ve got!” Red hood taunted, spinning around and searching the darkness for movement. It was silent, not even his mask could pick up a signature. Curious. He couldn’t see him at all. Had the bats upgraded their armour?

A shot hit his shoulder, denting the armour beneath. His winced and turned, gun still raised. “You shot my jacket?! That’s just low. I actually like this thing.” Jason called out.

Another shot hit his knee, followed by a pistol whip to the mask, rocking his head to the side, and a knee to the gut.

“Why? Brown is not your colour and clashes with the helmet.” The Knight critiqued, slinking back into the shadows.

Seriously? This guy was gonna give him fashion tips? He looked like a wannabe Batman who only shops at army surplus stores. What, does he have a hard on for combat boots and baggy trousers? Also since when did Batman let his toy soldiers play with guns? A question he said aloud.

It was answered by a cold and cruel laugh.

“He doesn’t. But Batman doesn’t stop me from doing anything. He’s not the boss of me. Now.” The Knight rasped from behind, before driving a knife deep into the break between Jason’s helmet and his neck armour. Right into the tendon on the side of his throat.

“You wanted to play with other people's toys for the night? What do you say you take them out for a real spin?” The knight said, laughing again before digging around in Jason’s pockets, one hand still on the knife.

He couldn’t move, could barely breathe. At this rate if he even twitched he could end up paralysed or bleeding out. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t someone Batman should have on his side. He should be behind bars according to Batman’s rules and yet here is. Walking free as a bird. Ironic.

The Knight found a syringe. A syringe filled with a strange orange liquid. And stabbed it into Jason’s neck. He ripped out the knife, slapping a medical spray and gauze onto the wound, then pulled out the empty needle.

“I’m not saving you because I want you to live. I don’t care if you live or die. You’re not my priority. But. I do want you to suffer. For what you did to us. Think about that when you’re choking on your own fears. Oh, and good luck finding an antidote.” The Knight said, laughing as he smashed a vial from Jason’s pockets on the ground.

Shit. The antidote.

He had to get out of here and back to his safe house before he did something that threw his whole plan off. Not that it hadn’t veered off course already. Now the Knight just made it personal. Forget Robin and all the rest, Batman and the Knight were going to pay for this. For all of this.

He stumbled away, hand on his neck as he watched the knight fall to the ground, an arrow in his leg.

As Jason stumped into the darkness, the last thing he could see was Red Arrow sprinting towards Nightwing and The Knight.

Good to know. At least he got one thing he came for. The lay of the land.

Chapter Text

“I need help here!” Roy’s shout echoed throughout the cave as he flung the door open. He grabbed Jason, holding him under the arms and trying to drag him out.

Steph, Cass and Tim ran to join him. Steph and Tim grabbed Dick while Cass helped him with Jason. Cass and Anderson.

“What happened? I thought you were going after Freeze, you know, the guy who freezes stuff? Maybe I’m thinking of someone else but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t do whatever this is.” Anderson grunted as Alfred quickly prepped some beds in the medical area.

“Because he didn’t do this! It was some, I dunno just some guy! He had a bright red helmet and stuff and said some things then gassed Nightwing and drove AK insane! So I drugged Jason and Nightwing talked about an antidote which I gave them but it did nothing.” Roy said, tripping over his words as he grunted with the effort of carrying Jason and his heavy armour. Why did he have to have such a damn heavy suit?

“Fear Gas. Must have been a new strain this guy got his hands on. But I’m pretty sure you’re talking about Red Hood. A new player in the Gotham underground although he’s mainly gone after Black Mask’s drug trade. I don’t know why he’d throw in with Scarecrow or even steal his toxin.” Tim said.

“Well maybe he wanted us out of the way. Break some people out of Arkham, cause a distraction, then let daddy bats worry about the little vigilantes rather than stop whatever the hell it is he’s doing.” Steph replied, ungracefully dropping Nightwing onto a bed.

“Then let’s not tell Batman. About the fear gas I mean. Tell him Red Hood is making a move but—“ Tim started to say but was immediately cut off by Anderson.

“And let Robin get gassed too? No. Tell him. Whatever Red Hood is doing isn’t as important as Boss and Nightwing. He hasn’t done anything news worthy yet so he’s probably not that bad, not joker level, so whatever he does probably isn’t gonna be the worst thing in the world.” Anderson said, pulling Jason onto the bed next to Dick.

Dick was thrashing about, screaming and kicking, almost hitting Steph in the chin and Tim in the eye. They both ducked out of the way, pinning him down. Alfred quickly, and with several apologies, strapped him down and secured him to the bed.

“Don’t! I’m sorry!” Dick screamed yet again. He hadn’t stopped screaming and crying since he was pulled from the car. Sure Jason was the heavier one, but he was also out like a light. Dick? Not so much. He didn’t even seem to realise he was restrained, he just kept fighting back against an unknown enemy.

Ashes wove their way across his skin, heat searing it as he smelt the burning flesh and metal and blood on the air.

“Dick?” Jason asked. His voice sounded so young and hopeful and exactly like Robin. Dick whirled around with a wide smile on his face and a name on the top of his tongue.

Only for that name to be swallowed. By the burises blooming across his face and the twisted limbs. The bright uniform dulled and torn, sticking to blackened and burned flesh with thick layers of blood.

“Why weren’t you there for me? I needed you. And you didn’t come. You didn’t even come to my funeral.” Jason said, voice cracking with his bones as he tried to raise a hand, tried to reach out for Dick.

Only to be stopped by a gravestone. A gravestone carved with a name.

Richard Grayson.

“It should have been you. You weren’t there, you never tried. And instead you let a little kid die.” Catalina Flores said from behind him, stretching out on a nearby gravestone. “You were even too weak to finish the job with his killer.” She said, cleaning her nails.

“No. No! I tried, I did. But Bruce… he stopped me.” Dick protested, not looking at her.

The name warped and changed to show Jason’s.
“Yes. Blame it all on me. You could have done it again, you know. Gone back. Finished the job. And you only did it when you thought Tim was dead. After Barbara lost her legs. Jason wasn’t good enough a reason for you alone. He wasn’t even a reason at all. You didn’t really care about the replacement that died in your suit. You were just happy to see someone else stop wearing it.” Bruce said, pacing behind him with hands clasped behind his back.

“No! What about you? You never killed him either! You never even tried!” Dick shouted, whirling on Bruce.

Instead he was shoved against the grave, gun to his head. Jason stared at him with steel blue eyes and that damned brand practically glowing on his cheek. He leant over Dick, a cruel smile carving its way onto his lips.

“Who cares what Joker did to little Jason Todd. Right? The competition was gone, and you were happy. Didn’t have to worry about a brat running around in your suit. Well, I’m back Dickiebird. What’s the matter? Scared?” Jason whispered, grinning with blood in his teeth and on his hands, a light mist covering the gun and his Arkham Knight uniform.

“No, no I’m not scared of you. Jason please, put down the gun. Or… shoot me if it makes you feel better. Please just come home.” Dick replied softly, eyes glimmering with tears.

“What? Come home with you? Why would I? You let this happen to me. This could have been you. You were the first. If anyone was meant to go down, it was you.” The gun clicked and Jason took a step back, still grinning.

The pressure on Dick’s body was released, and he turned around to beg Jason, to apologise.

But Jason wasn’t there.

Instead it was Dick, staring back at him with blood in his teeth and a gun in his hand, a shining J brand and the Arkham Knight armour dusted with ashes.

“You’ve always been a monster. You know it, she knows it,” he nodded towards Catalina who gave a small wave, “Bruce deluded himself into not believing it, and Jason? The big starry eyed little boy?”

Jason in his whole and bright Robin suit laughed, running up to Dick and grabbing his hand, ice cream in the other one as he smiled up at him.

“He went to his grave, or rather, prison, not believing it. But we all know it now. He was going to put you down like the monster you are. Next time,” Arkham Knight got right behind Dick, whispering in his ear, “you should let him.”

He then gave a joker-esque cackle, the click of a gun being heard.

Dick whirled around, dressed in a black suit with a single rose tucked into the pocket, and came face to face with little Jason in a tattered Robin uniform holding a gun.

His parents were behind him, one hand on either shoulder, nodding softly to Jason. Jason stared up at them and nodded back, curls bouncing before firing right at Dick’s head.

And all he could whisper was, “I’m sorry.”

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Hands shook and trembled, keys falling from them several times as he tried to open the door.

“Shit. Shit!” Jason hissed through the helmet. He knew he should remove it or something. What if someone saw him? But the laughter in his ears, it was overwhelming. He just needed to get inside. Get to safety. And away from that goddamn clown.

”Tell me, which hurts more? A, or B? Forehand,” Jason could feel pain blossoming in his legs and almost dropped the key again, ”or backhand?” The sound of a crowbar against flesh echoed in the street as the door creaked open.

He kicked it open, ripping off his helmet and throwing it to the side before slamming the door behind him. He was breathing heavily, pacing back and forth. He just had to clear his head. Think.

Think. There’s an antidote. Another one. He made several from the one he took. He wasn’t gonna go in without backup. He just had to get it. Get to the kitchen. That’s all it took. All it took was for him to move. One foot at a time.

Each step felt like his bones were shattering anew. He cried out in pain, almost falling to his knees. No. He wouldn’t give up. He refused. They weren’t gonna win. That new kid wasn’t gonna beat him.

”You so sure about that? Because it looks like I already did.” Arkham knight crooned in his ear, leering above him as Jason nearly fell again, that cackling laughter a backing track to his broken bones shattering again.

“Fuck off. I’m still here. I’m still moving. You haven’t won yet you fucking bastard.” Jason spat.

”Oh really? Haven’t I?” Arkham Knight chuckled darkly and circled around him, leaning against a smoke stained wall with peeling wallpaper and bullet holes embedded in it. ”You can’t even walk a couple of feet. I managed to take you down while high on the exact same thing you are. And you watched me take down Nightwing all on my own. Face it, I’m smarter than you, stronger than you, and better than you in every way. No wonder Batman replaced you. I mean who would want a dead little bird when they could have someone like me?”

“Like us.” The other robins and batkids chorused from the background, each one perched or sitting on a piece of mutilated furniture. The replacement, red Robin, was sat on the kitchen counter swinging his legs. The antidote was next to him which he was playing with. It’s funny. He replaced you the first chance he got! Only a few months underground and there I am. Being better than you ever were. And he just kept going. Kept adding to his collection because he never needed you. He still doesn’t.”

”I did batsy a favour! After all, no one likes a broken toy.” Joker said, cackling as he swung the crowbar at his head.

Jason grunted and went down, pain throbbing in his skull. He pushed himself up, staggering to the kitchen and snatching the antidote from Red Robin.

”Ooh, somebody has something to prove!” Arkham Knight and Joker said at the same time, laughing together.

“Shut up.” Jason growled.

”I will never kill for you or take you back. You were never good enough and I’m happy with the family I have. You should have stayed dead Jason. We were all better off that way.” Bruce said from behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Fuck off! The only one who tells me what I should and shouldn’t do is me!” Jason snapped and plunged the needle into his arm, injecting the antidote.

He then collapsed to the ground as he heard the cackle of laughter and the ticking of a bomb fading into the background.

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“Shit.” Roy whispered before jumping back. “Jason’s awake! Anyone have that antidote yet?” He yelled.

Jason turned his head away, looking at seemingly nothing with glassy eyes and started to laugh. Cackle.

Just as Tim yelled back, “nearly there! And I’m done one, but it’ll take five minutes to do another. Dick has been awake longer, he should get it first.”

Cass took the antidote from him and gave it Dick who had gone deadly still. He was just staring at the ceiling saying nothing at all for the past minute.

And Jason? Well he kept laughing.

His footsteps echoed on Arkham’s floors, the tiles cracking with bugs skittering out from underneath. Chains creaked above him, with a single wheelchair on its side, the wheel still slowly spinning. He walked up to the chair and kicked it, sending it careening into a wall that thudded like thick glass. The Arkham Knight ran up to it and saw a corner of wall paper.

Then he pulled.

The paper came down to reveal a thick pane of glass, trapping him inside the room with the hanging chains and spinning chair, the scent of blood and piss overwhelmingly strong.

On the other side of the glass, it was bright, and green and filled with birds. Pigeons flying high and grass swaying softly with the trees in a nice breeze, the sun illuminating it all.

In the middle of the park was Jason and Bruce. Smiling and laughing and talking. Dick and Tim were nearby, arguing with Damian and standing in front of a bird while Steph was leading Cass over to the play park. Duke was sat on a bench with ice cream in hand and talking to Alfred and Anderson who were sitting next to him. Anderson with a coffee in one hand and a notebook in the other which Alfred was using to write in.

And Jason was still laughing, that brand of his clear on his face as he smiled despite it. He looked happy.

And Arkham Knight could hear cackling behind him.

Jason raised his head, walking over to the glass. Bruce went to stop him but Jason playfully shrugged him off.

Just as the joker’s hands seized Knight, gripping him tight and forcing his head to look straight at Jason.

“What are you still doing here?” Jason asked, hands in his pockets. “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. You’re nothing but trouble.”

“Trouble? No, no I saved you! I’m the only one who can do what needs to be done! You still need me! You haven’t fixed anything!” Arkham Knight roared. Joker let go of him and he slammed a fist against the glass, spittle hitting it.

“Of course I have. I have a family who wants me. They need me, they certainly don’t need you. No one does. You shouldn’t be here anymore. You shouldn’t exist anymore.” Jason said casually, smiling at him.

“Bullshit! Bruce doesn’t want you, he’s using you! You’re a replacement that will never be good enough but I can fix this, I can! You don’t need Bruce or anyone else. You need me!” Knight screamed.

“No, I don’t.” Jason said, still smiling, then drew a curtain across the glass.

No matter how many times Arkham Knight screamed and slammed his fist against the glass, Jason never answered.

“Well little bird, now it’s just you and me. Together forever. What do you say, want to play a little game?” Joker crooned, grinning madly at Arkham Knight as he lifted a red hot poker, laughing along to the Knight's screams.

“Jason, Jason can you hear me?” Bruce said, sitting next to Jason’s bed. Jason slowly turned his head to the side, looking over at Bruce.

“Hmm?” Jason mumbled, opening his eyes. He then went completely still as he saw Bruce. Bruce and the restraints around his arms and legs.

He didn’t even tug at them or try to argue that they should let him out. Dick was sat up on his bed, watching Jason as Alfred patched bleeding wrists.

“Jason, we’re going to remove the restraints soon okay? We just had to make sure you weren’t going to hurt yourself or anyone else.” Bruce said gently, resting a hand on Jason’s arm.

Jason flinched from the touch and hesitantly nodded. “Yes sir. Whatever you think is best, sir.” Jason whispered, not quite meeting eyes with Bruce.

“Sir? Isn’t that a bit formal?” Bruce asked quietly.

Jason said nothing, just bit his lip and kept his eyes down. “I… sorry sir…” he whispered.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Here, let’s get you out of those. Okay?” Bruce whispered, gently releasing the restraints. As soon as he did, Jason flinched away from him and curled up on the side of the bed.

Bruce went to go to him, but was quickly dragged away by Anderson.

“Leave him. He’s scared and not in his right mind. And you’re making it worse. He needs time to properly come out of this.” Anderson said quietly, watching Jason.

Bruce glanced back at Jason and nodded. “Okay. But this isn’t right. Jason should be loud and yelling and angry and swearing. And never once in his life has he called me sir.”

“But he did call the joker that. He never talked about himself of the joker or anything but his connection to Batman, and the joker was already dead when he came back to Gotham but he did meet him just the once. And The Boss called him sir. He never calls anyone sir or treats them with respect. Least of all someone like him. He was seconds away from breaking Crane’s neck at any given moment and talked about filling Cobblepot with his own lead, but Joker was the only one he didn’t threaten or disrespect. Only one guy saw this so no one thought anything of it. Frankly I forgot about it. But whatever it is, Boss is terrified.” Anderson explained, nodding towards Jason who hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed or let Alfred take a look at him.

“Leave him for a while. Hopefully he’ll come out of it on his own. And maybe get him a therapist or something.” Anderson said.

Bruce sighed and nodded. “I don’t want Jason hurting his therapist. When he’s more stable, then I will. But for now,” he paused and looked around. “Everyone except for Dick, Alfred and Jason, go upstairs,” he called out then turned to Dick and Alfred. “As soon as you’re done, Dick, come upstairs too.”

Bruce didn’t explain further as he turned around and walked upstairs, leaving just the three of them behind in the quiet of the cave.

Chapter Text

Blue lights cast their glow over the cave, the bats tittering overhead as only the soft hum of machines filled the earth. Chair squeaked as Anderson leant back in it, a coffee in his hand. He sipped the mug, staring at the computer displaying various images of what, he didn’t even know or care. This was Oracle’s domain and he was more than happy to let her handle it.

Sure he had no idea who Oracle really was, well he remembered that whole debacle with Barbara Gordon, so he knew her identity, but he didn’t know what she was like as a person. And he found himself not really caring. If she was reliable and didn’t try to kill one of them then that’s good enough for him. After all, it’s not like he was gonna test or screen every single ally the bats had. He had better things to do, like wrangle the kids back into bed. Again.

Why do they keep trying to sneak out?! He might not be a bat but it’s pretty fucking obvious given that they have a whole ass uniform they have to put on. And Bruce wired every inch of this house. Now he was paranoid. Anderson though? He couldn’t give a fuck what the kids did in their spare time so long as it wasn’t anything too dangerous. And yes, stabbing his brothers did fall under that category, Damian. Knives are meant for food only and as a vegetarian, Damian couldn’t quite argue that people were food given he doesn’t eat meat.

The familiar squeal of tires echoed throughout the cave. And immediately Anderson bolted upright, almost spilling his coffee. It was only midnight, Bruce shouldn’t be back yet.

The door flung open and a woman jumped out. “Alfred! Get me a bed prepped, stat. Two knife wounds and a shotgun.” The woman yelled, holding onto a heavily bleeding Bruce.

Anderson set down his coffee and ran past the red head. Huh. He’d never seen or heard about her before, and she definitely wasn’t Miss Gordon given that she was walking around. Wait, was this world’s Barbara paralysed? Whatever, that was something he could figure out later.

“Alfred isn’t here but I’m all you’ve got.” Anderson said as he started prepping a bed, just like how Alfred and Leslie had shown him.

He’d started shadowing Leslie at the clinic and Alfred at home, trying to figure out and learn exactly how to keep the bats alive. They needed someone to and Alfred and Leslie won’t always be around so he was their next best option. Plus they were giving him a place to stay and food to eat, least he could do was pay it back. Sure he was a merc but he still believed in manners. Although, he probably should start charging Bruce soon. Call it a babysitting fee.

“Who are you?” The woman in the black suit with the red bat asked, glaring at him. “Where is Alfred?”

“I sent Alfred home for the week. He hasn’t been to England in years, so I thought it was overdue. I’m stepping in while he’s gone. Oh, the name is Anderson by the way.” Anderson said, walking over and helping her pull Bruce over to the bed.

“That doesn’t really answer the question as to who you are. What are you doing here and can you actually treat Batman?” The redhead asked, levelling him a nasty glare through the whites on her mask. Or what he assumed was one given he couldn’t see much of her face.

“I live here, I came here with my Boss who’s now part of the family. And yes I can treat him. I’m not a surgeon or doctor or anything but I have some basic medical training and can clean and stitch a wound. Although the shot might be a little difficult to dig out, I can do it. Now, keep pressure on the wounds, I’ll start sterilising them.” Anderson explained. “Who are you by the way?” He asked as he grabbed a wipe.

“Right. I’m Batwoman. But you said Bruce, does that mean you know who he is,” Anderson nodded at her question, “and who the hell is your boss?”

“ My Boss is… well let’s just say not the most stable of people. Just a week ago he was hit with fear gas and tried to kill somebody. So we’re keeping him away from the public. He’s tried to kill several people in the few months he’s been around.” Anderson said with a shrug as Kate carefully lifted her hand, revealing a knife wound. “Yeah, that'll need stitches.” He muttered.

“Well then, if you know Bruce I guess you can call me Kate. But who exactly is your boss? Is he another vigilante because I don’t see Batman letting a villain live in his house.” Kate replied, watching as he sterilised and numbed the wound.

Batman was out cold but that didn’t mean he’d stay that way.

“My Boss is the Arkham Knight. He’s not really a vigilante. Too unstable for the field. Bruce… sort of knew him. And seems to care for an idea of him. It’s complicated and messy but gives me a place to live so I ain’t complaining. And I don’t have to work so I’ll take it. This is a way better deal than any assignment overseas or something I woulda gotten otherwise.” Anderson said as he started to clean the wound and then stitch it. “I’ll stitch the other one then get him set up with a blood transfusion as I work on the shots. Thank god for armour. And decent armour too.”

“Assignment, are you army?” Kate asked, staring at him.

“Sorta. I was but kicked out for being gay. I didn’t even do anything they just found out and found a way to give me a dishonourable discharge so I became a merc. It was a different time back then, not that it’s changed a lot now.” Anderson commented as he finished stitching the first knife wound, a slash across Bruce’s ribs. Thank you Kate for getting the uniform off first.

“Man that sucks. But you’re right, it’s not much better. As a lesbian in the army, it was pretty hard to get anything done or command any sort of respect.” Kate replied.

“Oh yeah I can see that. Man that must’ve sucked. But hey, at least you found something you can do now. Vigilante work was never for me, bills to pay and all that. Plus the whole kid thing disgusts me. Really. Who lets a kid in the field?”

“I would never. I don’t get how Bruce does it. And his youngest was 9 when he first went out. When I was a nine year old I was still playing with toys.”

“God yeah. When I was 9 my dad threw my toys out the window cause a boy wasn’t allowed to play with Barbie’s and I was upset for weeks. But seeing a murder at 9? That’s gonna fuck you up for life. Hell. Seeing a murder at all is gonna fuck you up.”

Both Kate and Anderson’s heads shot up as they heard the creak and whir of the entrance.

“Hey I came to— Bruce? Is he okay?” Jason asked, sprinting towards them.

“He’s fine, Boss. I’m dealing with his wounds right now. Although, you could help me by setting up an IV.” Anderson said.

Kate just stared, mouth open. She then reached up and removed the cowl, short red hair falling across her face, eyes wide.

Wow she really was a redhead. He could tell it was a wig, so he wasn’t sure, but she had the complexion for it.

“Jason?” She whispered quietly.

Great, did everyone know who Jason was on this earth, cause the look on his Boss’s face told him he had no idea who she was.

“Who are you?” Jason asked, not even looking at her as he set up the IV.

“Right. We never met like this.. but it’s Kate. Bruce’s cousin? We met at a gala once.” Kate said softly.

“Yeah no. No clue who you are. Sorry.” Jason said dismissively, taking a step back and wringing his hands. “So Bruce isn’t gonna die or whatever? Not that I care, it would just be an inconvenience.”

He definitely cared. Otherwise he would have left already. Anderson had to work to suppress a smile. “He’s fine. With a little rest and recuperation he’ll be good in no time.”

Jason snorted. “Right. Cause Batman rests and recuperates. Not gonna happen.”

“Probably not. But I will chain him to this bed if I have to. He has no choice in the matter.” Anderson said as Kate kept staring.

“Sorry. Jason Todd is your boss?! I thought you said you were military. Isn’t he a little young?” Kate said.

“Was. Worked as a mercenary and was hired for an op by the boss here.” Anderson said at the exact same time as Jason exclaimed,

“Young? So what! I know how to lead a militia.”

“Right. You do and you were very good at it.” Anderson placated, watching as Jason preened quietly under the compliment. “But she isn’t wrong. You’re what, early 20s? And we started just under 3 years ago. You should’ve been in college not leading a militia.”

He should have learned by now to never question anything Jason does or criticise him.

“And?! I can lead a militia, hell, I was overqualified for it! Just cause I’m 19 don’t mean shit!” Jason shouted.

Anderson paused, hand hovering over the blood bag he was about to grab. He then grabbed it and attached it the uv drip, staring at Jason.

“You’re 19? Right now?” Anderson asked and Jason nodded. “So you’re telling me. You started leading an army. A full sized militia made of merc’s and working alongside fucking Deathstroke, at 17 years old?!”

“16 actually. But yeah. You got a problem with that?” Jason snapped.

Yes he had a problem. A huge problem. Oh he would have killed Jason’s Bruce if he wasn’t dead already.

“No. But everything’s under control here. Go back upstairs and go to sleep before I wake up Harper and send him after you.” Anderson lied, watching as Jason huffed and muttered obscenities under his breath as he made his way back upstairs.

Kate sighed and shook her head. “God what a world we live in. This is exactly why I do what I do.”

“I get it. I do. Well if you ever need someone to talk to about it or the military or even just go get coffee with, I’m here. But I’m fine on my own right now. Someone should keep covering for Batman. Go out there and save the day or whatever the fuck you vigilantes do.” Anderson said.

Kate gave him a smile before pulling the cowl back on and saluting him, walking towards the cave exit.

Anderson just sighed and kept cleaning Bruce’s wounds and digging shot pellets out of bruised and scarred skin.

Chapter Text

Breath swirled in the air, a mist amongst the cold that illuminated exhaust and pollution all throughout the city. Footsteps crunched against concrete littered with trash, packets of crisps and paper cups flitting across the streets. The clouds overhead cast the sky in grey as a smile lit up Roy’s face.

“Aw come on! Quit sulking. I know you’re upset Alfred is gone,” Roy flung an arm around Jason’s shoulders who flinched and shoved him away, “but I promise you, you’ll love this! I’ll even buy you ice cream after!”

“One, I’m not sulking,” Jason protested and was frankly offended by the idea, “two I’m not upset. He deserves time off, it’s just Bruce is being unbearable right now. And three, it’s fucking freezing. There’s no way we’re getting ice cream.”

Roy laughed again and shrugged. “You always have something to complain about, don’t you? Now hurry up! We’ll miss the movie if you keep moping.”

“I am not moping.” Jason growled and followed him at a slightly slower pace. “And I really don’t care if we do. I mean it’s just another stupid slasher film. I live in Gotham. Why would I want to watch a slasher when I can just walk down the street and see worse for myself?”

“You don’t go for realism! You go because it’s funny to laugh at the stupid people and watch some mindless film that barley has a plot.” Roy explained as Jason rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think you’re meant to laugh at a slasher or a horror.” Jason muttered.

“Oh, are you not? Well I find them pretty funny. Like you sort of said, I’ve definitely seen worse. You ever had to give a mission report to Batman? That’s worse than any horror film out there. Simply terrifying and I spend the entire time wondering when I’m going to just combust.”

“Roy. I live with the man. I know exactly what he’s like. But I… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yikes. What did Batman do this time?”

Jason sighed and shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just… I like you. You’re probably the only person who’s actually tried to get to know me and not just tried to turn me into who they thought I was or take pity on me. And I don’t like lying to you.” Jason stopped, wringing his hands and looking away.

“Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me. You probably had your reasons for lying. God knows I’ve done it for far worse reasons than most.” Roy said, laying a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

Jason flinched again and chewed on his lip before sighing deeply.
“Remember when we first encountered each other? I mean this year. That’s the first time I’ve ever met you cause I’m not Jason.” Jason said quietly, watching as Roy stared at him with, what the fuck does that mean? Written all over his face. “I mean, I’m not this universe’s Jason. There was an accident at WE and they were testing dimension travel, ended up sending Bruce through. And he landed in my world. Then they got him back but brought everyone in the room. This included me and Anderson. Technically he kidnapped us. So I lied, saying I didn’t remember you but we’ve never even met. I’m not your Jason so I guess we can not bother with the movie or whatever.”

Roy sighed and shook his head, cause really? There was no hatred on his part. Why would there be? “That is a wild and unbelievable story but I believe you. I kinda already knew cause you knew things that you shouldn’t or things that definitely didn’t happen. I was just waiting for you to tell me, and I’m glad you did. This really doesn’t change anything.” Roy said with a wide grin.

Jason hesitantly looked at him, searching his face for a lie. “You’re sure? You’re sure it’s okay and you don’t hate me for lying for months about who I am?”

“Course I don’t. You had your reasons to lie but I’m just happy you told me. You’re still my best friend cause you’re the only one who cared when I was at rock bottom. We have a movie to go see!”

“Fuck. I was hoping you’d forget or refuse to see it with me.”

“Aha! I knew it! Your tactics won’t fool me Mr. Military man! Now come on, I wanna see how inaccuracies we can name in one movie.” Roy spoke with a wide grin, hands in his pockets as he strolled behind Jason, almost leaning against him but not quite.

And Jason couldn’t help but let a small smile slip onto his lips.

Chapter Text

Neon lights lit up the sky, flashing sirens the wailing soundtrack welcoming the night forwards. Wind whipped black cape, blue flickering beside him.

“What are we even doing here, old man?” Arkham Knight said, sitting on the edge of a shipping crate and swinging his legs as the neon city gave way to dark waves.

“There’s been mention of a shipment containing something big coming in for Black Mask. I think it’s a target for Red Hood. He’s been taking down weapon shipments and drug deals from Black mask. Anything to do with Black Mask’s trade and Red hood has been destroying it.” Batman replied.

“Okay and we wanna stop this guy why exactly? Sounds like he’s on your side.” Jason said.

That’s what Bruce would like to believe, but no. This wasn’t the work of a new vigilante, this is a systematic take down to leave a power vacuum leaving Red Hood as the most powerful player to fill said vacancy as evidenced by the fact that word on the street said he was still taking cuts from the drug trade.

Bruce merely grunted in response, before nodding towards a warehouse. A loud crash was heard from the location, followed by a body hitting the ground. It was already cold. Red hood must have been here a while ago. They were too late.

Batman pulled out a radiation scanner, checking for the rumoured kryptonite which was meant to be here amongst the crates.

Jason cracked one open, cursing loudly. “Thought you said there was gonna be something big here. This is just a bunch of the fucking clowns shit.” He said, picking up and staring at a joker bomb.

“Language.” Bruce muttered as the scanner started to pick something up.

“My apologies. This is just a fucknugget of the asshole clowns wankery. What’ve you got?” Jason asked, leaning towards the scanner to take a look.

Ever since the fear gas incident, Jason had been far more in control and stable. He rarely snapped at or attempted to kill anyone. Which was the only reason Bruce allowed him back into the field, and because he was the only one who held his own against red hood. Plus Nightwing was busy in Blüdhaven, and there was no way he was allowing any of the others near this.

Especially not since Anderson kept locking them in their rooms at night. It was better that way anyway, at least they were safe.

Plus Anderson would lurk outside their rooms with a shotgun full of salt and traps outside the window. Tim made the mistake of trying to go and work on a case after mandated bedtime and was very sore for the next few days. Then Damian ended up in a net and everyone else got the idea that Anderson wouldn’t be so easy to fool. Bruce had a sneaking suspicion Jason helped with the traps but no one had confirmed it and security footage had been wiped from that day.

“Radiation. There was a crate of kryptonite here.” Bruce said to Jason.

Jason chuckled and nodded. “Okay. And? You scared the Boy Scout is gonna die?”

“Not entirely. I am concerned about the traces of radiation. I’m getting a very strong reading which means that there must have been several tons of kryptonite.” Batman said.

“I can see why that wouldn’t be fantastic. Heard radiation is bad for indigestion, really messes up your gut.” Jason said, no doubt smiling behind his mask. Bruce wished he didn’t wear it, it would be better to see his face, but Jason was very insecure about his scars and that wasn’t something Bruce could easily change.

He had discreetly looked into it but there was just so much scar damage that removal wouldn’t be possible because they couldn’t easily do a skin graft or work around the damaged skin. Even if it was just to remove the brand.

“There’s enough here to track. Let’s move.” Batman said, cape sweeping across the ground as he ran towards the warehouse exit.

Jason followed, silent, before suddenly tackling Bruce. They both rolled across concrete, slamming into a wall.

Bruce slipped a hand into his belt, readying the cuffs. If this was an attack by the Arkham Knight then he had to restrain him. Bring him back to the cave and never let him out into the field again.

Then he heard it. The strange sound of machinery and heavy footsteps, followed by whirring and clicking.

Something was waking up.

“This must be your ‘something big’ you were talking about.” Jason whispered, crawling off of Bruce and peering around the crates they were hiding behind. “Damn. What the hell is that?”

Bruce also took a look, stilling at the sight. A humanoid android with green trousers and arm bands, and pointed ears. Muscles rippling across its synthetic flesh.

Amazo.

This, this is big. And trouble.

“Amazo. A highly advanced android equipped with cell absorption technology that acquired and possesses seven powers from the justice league. Be careful, but remember, it is modelled after a human. Which means it has the same weak points as a human.” Bruce explained as the android’s gaze landed upon them.

“You are outmatched. This will end quickly.” Amazo said, fists curling before driving towards the two.

They split, diving for each corner of the room. Bruce fired a grapple line, taking to the rafters, as Jason launched a flash grenade at Amazo’s head. It went off with a bang, stunning the android for a second before an explosion took it off its feet. Jason had dropped a live grenade behind it before retreating to hide behind some crates.

It was concerning that Jason had live grenades in the field, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

“We have to get it out into the open.” Batman called out to Jason, firing a grapple line up and out of the warehouse, shattering glass on his way. Jason followed, landing on the rooftop with a heavy thud. Just as flames and smoke curled, another heavy thud echoing behind them.

Amazo roared and charged, one leg with exposed metal bones, swiping towards Jason.

He had to protect him.

Jason moved, dodging to the side and firing a bullet at Amazo’s neck. It dented metal and Bruce moved, leaping forwards as laser beams tore open the ground.

Jason rolled away from the blast, and Batman slammed explosive putty down upon the androids eyes. They glowed red, before exploding. Burnt chasms stared back at them, seeing nothing.

Jason dug a hand into its jaw in its moment of shock, raising the gun and pushing it into the robot's ear. Shot echoed, ripping through and out the other side. Amazo teetered on the edge of the warehouse, before Bruce have it one swift kick.

Jason leapt off at the same time, the combined force sending it careening into the ocean below, a bomb strapped to its waist.

It exploded midair, the burnt wreck hitting the water below. Water flooded the docks, before the wreckage sank to where it disappeared from view.

Bruce grunted and turned to look at Jason, about to bring up the live rounds and grenades fact, before getting another hit on the radiation tracker.

“The kryptonite moved. We have to go. Now.” Batman said, leaping off the warehouse roof.

“Right. Just how much Kryptonite we talking?” Jason asked as he followed.

“Over a hundred pounds.” Bruce stated, walking to the batmobile.

Jason whistled. “Over a hundred pounds? That’s impressive.”

Bruce nodded in response. It was. How black mask even acquired that or why was beyond him. He would likely have to warn Superman, but that could come later. Stopping Black Mask and Red Hood took priority.

Chapter Text

The trail guided them to yet another warehouse. It wouldn’t be Gotham if there wasn’t at least one warehouse deal. They arrived right as the shooting started. Gunfire welcomed their arrival and the shouts of protest from a woman in a suit.

Red hood had an arm wrapped around her neck, a gun pressed to her forehead. This faltered the men who seemed unsure of what to do.

“Shoot him you idiots!” She screamed and the men started to fire. Red Hood shoved her away, towards the path of gunfire and vaulted backwards.

He did a back handspring, body twisting and hands pushing him off the ground, to find safety behind a few crates.

“Impressive.” Jason commented from the rafters next to Batman.

Batman grunted and replied, “nothing we haven’t seen before. It is just a simple handspring.”

“In the middle of a gunfight. We knew this guy was good but he’s clearly got practice and experience. He knew the best path to not be touched by the bullets and took it. If I had soldiers half that good I would have taken Gotham in a few hours.” Jason said casually.

Every time Jason mentioned his activities in Gotham, it grew only to concern Bruce. Why would he even need to occupy the entirety of Gotham? It would be effective but completely unnecessary and only provide opportunity for avoidable causalities.

Not to mention the fact that teenagers shouldn’t be leading entire armies. He should have been dating, getting into trouble at school and going to parties. Although his Jason would probably have started a reading club and getting straight A’s. The Jason crouched next to him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever even kissed anyone and there was no doubt he’d never finished school. Battle strategy and weaponry training was by no means a substitute for an education.

“It seems he’s skilled and practiced. We should end this now. A man as dangerous as him should be behind bars.” Batman said, watching Red Hood reach for his guns. The guns which weren’t secured and lying on the ground nearby.

“Or we could just let the guns do the job for us.” Jason said with a shrug.

Batman glared at him before Jason finally sighed and undoubtedly rolled his eyes behind the mask.

“Okay fine. We’ll go help him I guess.” Jason muttered. Batman threw down a smoke grenade, white smoke enveloping the area.

Red hood laughed and leapt from his position, snatching up the guns.

“Finally come to join the fight, old man? I’ve been waiting for you!” He yelled, still laughing. A shot was fired into the rafters, figure moving through the smoke.

Arkham Knight leapt down behind him, firing rubber bullets at the man.

“Sorry rookie, I’m waiting for the big man.” Red hood said, before cracking Jason’s helmet, a shot ricocheting off the side.

But all Batman could see through the smoke was the bright flash of a gun, and Jason reeling backwards, hitting the ground.

“No! What have you done?!” He roared, leaping at Red Hood and grabbing the gun. He snapped the man’s wrist back, throwing a punch at his throat.

Red Hood dodged, twisting out of his grip and throwing a knee towards Batman’s stomach. He caught the kick and Red Hood used that momentum to swing back, doing a backflip and landing on his feet.

“Well well well, look who’s finally here. Sorry Batman, but I’m not ready for a fight just yet. I’ll let you know when all the pieces are in place. For now, I give you a gift. Ms. Li. You’ll find plenty of evidence tying her to black mask.” Red hood said, gesturing towards one of the bodies on the ground.

She appeared to still be alive, breathing shallow and blood pooling beneath her.

“Better hurry up. She won’t last much longer. Ta ta for now!” Hood said and bowed before using a grapple line to repel out of the warehouse.

A line far too similar to Batman’s for his liking. But he had other concerns right now. Jason and Ms. Li for example.

Jason was staggering to his feet, shaking his head.

“I’m good. Don’t worry about me.” He said as he leant against one of the crates. Bruce absolutely would worry about him, but later. He had to get Ms. Li stable first.

Then he could worry about Jason and the Red Hood. Whatever these pieces were and the final plan he had, he was certain it would spell nothing but trouble for him and his family. Arkham Knight in particular. The crime lord seemed to have a particular obsession with him. One he suspected he knew why, but couldn’t confirm. It was nothing but a slight niggling at the back of his brain.

Far too many similarities to the main suspect he had in mind for this to be fully ruled out. Even if that suspect was meant to be dead. But the dead didn’t always stay dead, he knew that better than most.

Chapter Text

Lights buzzed and flickered, and then cut completely. Complaints were hurled skywards, followed by some silencing those that complained. They knew what was happening.

Or rather, what should be happening. They haven’t planned for him.

Footsteps were silent as he hit the ground, creeping through the concrete hall.

Lights came on right after the door clicked open. He couldn’t help the grin that crept underneath his mask. His target had yet to wake up, which actually suited him fine. This wasn’t an interrogation. This was a kidnapping.

Ms. Li’s eyes shot open and she jumped up in her cell, growling at him. Honest to god growling. What was with this woman?

“Red Hood. What do you want?” She hissed, climbing off the cot and glaring, but he could see her eyes wandering.

“You won’t find any guards around to protect you. You’re coming with me.” Jason said, lunging at her. He clamped a hand over her mouth as she tried to scream, the other one bringing a sword to her neck. Her eyes went wide and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, your head is anyway. This is what you get when you work for people like Black mask.” He whispered.

Blood splattered the small cell, spraying across the cot and ceiling, walls, and him. Blade gleamed as he cleaned and sheathed it, fingers wound through Ms. Li’s hair.

“I think it’s time I gave Black Mask a gift, don’t you?” He said to Ms Li’s head, breaking off into a laugh.

Lights flickered and went out.

When they came back on, the cell was empty.

Empty, aside from the headless corpse lying amongst the Jackson Pollock blood stains.

̶̶̶̶  «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ 　　≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫　　 ̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶  

“Red Hood struck again. It seems criminals aren’t safe behind bars anymore.” Jason said with a grin, slapping a newspaper down in front of Bruce. The headline was talking about the headless body of a business woman being found in a jail cell.

“Did you seriously go out and buy a newspaper just so you could do that? That is so unnecessarily dramatic.” Anderson said from nearby, scowling at Jason as he slid a cup of coffee over to Bruce.

“Coffee? I thought you were preaching health.” Jason sneered, crossing his arms and glaring down at Anderson.

“I preach looking after yourself, not making stupid mistakes due to fatigue, and being a semi functioning human being. Only one of those are something I can actually get you all to achieve and if that comes in the form of coffee then so be it. No more than one per day though.” Anderson said, pointing an accusing finger at Bruce. This was so much worse than having Alfred around. At least with Alfred he knew he’d just get a stern talking to or the coffee all quietly replaced with decaf. With Anderson, he would publicly bin the coffee in front of everyone if they abused their coffee rights.

Thank God Alfred was meant to be back by the end of the week.

“I saw. I also heard that Black Mask is signing on a team from the league of villains to execute Red Hood.” Bruce replied, putting a stop to Jason and Anderson’s argument over the kitchen table.

“League of villains? Damn coward. Can’t he just take him down himself? Or hire someone actually competent rather than those losers, like Deathstroke or a fucking decent mercenary?” Jason said with a snort.

“Language.” Bruce muttered as Anderson said at the same time,

“Not every villain could be like you, sir. Just because you won a fight against Batman and Deathstroke doesn’t mean anyone else could. Most normal people like us need to delegate those tasks and maybe he doesn’t think of Red Hood as much of a threat.”

Again Bruce was extremely concerned. Jason won against Batman and Deathstroke? And villain? He knew he had an army to kill Batman but that didn’t necessarily make one a villain, just an extremely over the top anti-hero depending upon what Batman did and if he was possessed by Joker then it could be argued that Jason was working as a lethal vigilante.

He didn’t agree with Jason killing his Batman, more so for the toll it took on the boy than any of his moral views. Yes killing was wrong but the worst part was the guilt that weighed on the soul, crossing that line is one thing you can never go back from. It always becomes an option from then on, you crossed the line so what’s wrong with doing it again? And it’s so easy. It takes maybe a minute to kill someone and at least five to tie them up and take them to the police. He could very easily kill someone, it would be simple and he could get away with it too. Which is why he never would, why the joker was still alive despite everything. He came very close several times and if it weren’t for that damn clowns unnatural survival rate, he probably would have been dead.

“That’s not what's important here. What is, is Red Hood. I have some suspicions about his identity that I need to confirm, and you will help me.” Bruce said, looking at Jason.

“Will I? What’s your plan, old man?” Jason asked.

“Black Mask is delivering another shipment of guns. I will ambush Red Hood when he goes to destroy the shipment, that means you need to handle the guns so they don’t end up on the streets.” Bruce said.

Jason nodded. “Sounds good to me. So we suiting up tonight?” He didn’t wait around for an answer, walking out of the kitchen and leaving Bruce and Anderson alone.

“Are you sure you want to leave him alone out there? He could easily kill someone.” Anderson said with a scowl.

“He’s been doing well lately. I trust him.” Bruce replied.

“But not enough to partner him with one of the others, right?” Anderson huffed and crossed his arms.

“It’s a school night. They need to rest and Dick is still in Blüdhaven. Jason will be fine and if not you or Roy can deal with him. Huntress and Batwoman are also out tonight. If anything goes wrong I have backup.” Bruce said.

“Okay. I just think you’re underestimating how powerful Jason is and his mental state. If you think you have a grasp on this then fine but just, be careful. I don’t want this ending badly for any of you.” Anderson said with a sigh, taking the coffee mug away from Bruce.

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Gun trained upon the van careening down the road, sight lined up with the gas tank. Finger rested on the trigger, about to pull back, when a dodge came. Red Hood rolled across the rooftop, robotic laugh coming from the helmet. “Batman. I wondered when you’d get here. Well come on old man, are we gonna fight or what?” Red Hood chided, standing up and shifting into a defensive position.

Batman said nothing before unleashing a volley of batarangs. Red hood sprung backwards, letting the blades soar over him and into the night.

Batman followed with a punch as Red hood took that split second to orient himself. Fist collided with stomach, winding the man.

He wrapped his arms around his torso, chuckling darkly. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Have you figured it out yet, world's greatest detective?” Red hood sneered. He then surged forwards, snapping straight and ripping the cowl from Bruce’s head. “Look at you. I suppose we should keep this fair.”

Red hood then reached up. A hiss echoed in the night, soft and prominent as the helmet came loose. Black curls framed by a streak of white fell in front of a red domino mask as Jason Todd grinned back at him. Something cruel and twisted, a smile Bruce had all but got used to. But this wasn’t the insane machinations of the Knight, this was just Jason. His Jason looking at him with such malice and hatred that it hurt his very soul.

“Oh God…” Bruce whispered. “Jason. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to.”

“Yes. You— what? What do you mean you didn’t mean to? What did you do, Bruce?” Jason asked, taking a step closer to him. He scooped down and picked up a batarang from the ground.

“I didn’t mean to abandon you. Make you feel unwanted. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still alive, otherwise I would have scoured the ends of the earth looking for you. I missed you more than I miss air when drowning.” Bruce whispered.

He could see the shock playing across Jason’s face. It was hard to say yet so easy at the same time. These were words he had kept bottled up and inside of him since that day at the warehouse.

Jason was stunned, clearly struggling to find the words. That shock was quickly covered by sarcasm. “What is this, the share your feelings circle? Are we at an AA meeting or something?” Jason scoffed. “Since when did you actually, you know, talk about stuff like this?”

“Since I went to therapy. After the.. That day. I shut down and was forced into therapy by Alfred and Tim. I’ve been going ever since.” Bruce confessed.

“You, going to therapy? Oh come on. Now you’re just playing me—“ Red Hood whipped around pulling out a gun and pointing it at a noise behind him.

“Are you done yet cause I got some really mouthy guys here and— for fuck’s sake Bruce! What is this?!” Arkham Knight yelled, gesturing at Red Hood.

Red Hood looked really uncomfortable, turning to face Bruce. “Jason. Please.. come home with us.” Bruce said softly.

Red hood snorted and raised his gun at Arkham Knight's head. “Why would I go home with you, when you replaced me so easily? You moved on like I was nothing, and you left that clown alive! Ignoring all the people he hurt and friends he crippled, I thought I would be the last one you let him kill. I thought I mattered!” He yelled, hand shaking.

“I tried. God knows Jason, I tried. But he survived and I couldn’t let that be your legacy. I couldn’t let your memory be nothing but an excuse for death. And it’s what he wanted. I refuse to give him what he wants, especially in the name of your memory.” Bruce said.

Red hood just started to laugh. He sliced the batarang across the back of his head and tossed it to Bruce. “There, hair, skin and blood cells to confirm it’s me. Maybe you’ll change your mind soon. I will be seeing you around.” He said and dove off the building.

“You know you’re well and truly fucked, right?” Arkham Knight said from next to Bruce, arms crossed as he leant against the ledge on the roof.

“Watch your language, Jason.” Bruce muttered as he stared at the blade in his hand.

Chapter Text

Computer screens blinked as the results glared back at him. Positive match. Jason Todd, his Jaylad really was alive and running around as the Red Hood. The Arkham Knight was right, he really had dropped the ball on this one. He had only himself to blame after all. Maybe finding the first person that reminded him of his dead son and forcibly adopting (i.e. kidnapping) him in an effort to combat his still lingering and ever present grief plus guilty conscience was perhaps, not the best idea he ever had. Bruce didn’t entirely know where to go from here. What he had to do was tell the family. The important ones anyway.

It started with a quick conversation with Alfred. Anderson was present for that one too. The man had taken to shadowing Alfred and playing bodyguard with Jason. Jason was training right now, and Anderson never got involved while he was training. He always said training with him was a special kind of hell and he just knew he’d be dragged back into it if he watched. And with the kids at school, that meant he had little else to do than assist the aging butler.

As he told Alfred the news, Anderson spent the whole time cackling. Bruce was certain that the mercenary took some sick and twisted pleasure in his suffering and mistakes. This? This was certainly suffering and one huge mistake. Not once did he regret taking Jason in, the Arkham Knight, but he did regret the hurt he had caused his little jaylad, and the hurt this situation would cause. He knew that inevitably they would make him choose. Jason or his Jaylad. And how could he possibly choose? They were both his son now.

He doesn’t know how his Jason had changed, but he was different. The Knight? He was completely different, a stranger almost. He didn’t read much, not like his Jaylad, and he distanced himself from everyone, not making friends and loving school like his boy. In fact, knight didn’t seem to have any hobbies or passions beyond his obsessive desire to kill the joker and avoid everyone. Reflecting back on it, that was just another mistake. But unlike the red hood situation, this was a mistake he could rectify.

After a call to Dick to inform him of the situation with Red Hood, he found Anderson and got him to summon Jason. It was much easier than Bruce finding the boy, Jason still reacted somewhat negatively to seeing him and Bruce didn’t want to start the day with fists thrown.

Jason came around the corner, pausing as he saw Bruce. “What?” He demanded, voice sharp and low.

“Jason, I think we need to have a discussion, but I don’t want to do that here. Can you get ready to go out? Are you okay going into Gotham central so we can talk somewhere publicly?” Bruce asked, as gently as he could. He thought he was being kind and open about it. Apparently not judging by the look on Jason’s face.

Jason looked like he was ready to snap. “Fine.” He bit out and stalked away, stomping up the stairs towards his room.

Bruce sighed and buried his face in his hands, sinking down into a chair in his office. “What did I do wrong?” He asked Anderson who was still in the room.

“Don’t know. That kid is a mystery. But if I had to guess, he probably thinks you’re taking him out to kick him to the curb. You got your kid back, why’d you need him?” Anderson replied with a shrug.

“It’s not about needing him. He is still my son, just like Jason is. They are two different people and I want both of them under my roof.” Bruce confessed. Perhaps he should confess more, Anderson was always so much better at handling his kids than he was. “I realised Jason doesn’t have any hobbies. All he does is train and do things that have to do with the mission. He doesn’t focus on anything else. I wanted to take him out and get him something that would distract him a bit and be something that wasn’t just his mission.”

“Actually, that’s a pretty good idea. We should go to the shelter and get him a pet. A rescue he has to look after, and if he can’t I’m sure Damian will take it, but tell him you had some fucking PR thing you had to do and had to go to the shelter to look good for the public or whatever the fuck. But do that after everything else. Like lunch or whatever. Oh and Boss once said it would be good to do some writing. Maybe get him set up with that. Get him a fucking writing set or whatever. Don’t know, don’t really care. It’s not like he’s my kid.” Anderson said.

They were all excellent ideas, but Anderson was wrong. Jason very much was his kid. Jason, Arkham Knight, was his ever since Anderson decided to stay for him. He was both their kid now.

Bruce was silent as he left Anderson and approached Jason’s room. He knocked on the door, waiting until he heard a grunt. “Jason? Can we talk?” He called out gently.

The door swung inwards, with Jason standing there and arms crossed. He glared at him.

“Hi, I’m sorry if I upset you earlier.” Bruce said.

Jason rolled his eyes and slammed the door in his face. Okay. Apparently Bruce couldn’t win.

“Look, Jason, I have to go into Gotham for a philanthropy event at the animal shelter and I wanted you to come. You don’t have to be anywhere near anyone else, it would just be nice to have you there.” Bruce confessed, even if it some of it was a lie, but Jason didn’t need to know that and he did genuinely want him there.

The door opened again and Jason stared at him. “Fine.” He said after a long moment. “But I’m staying away from any people and you have to give me an hour to get ready.”

That was better than expected for Bruce. “Alright, I’ll be waiting by the entrance whenever you’re ready. Take your time.” He said.

—

It took a little longer than an hour, but Jason had made his way downstairs and to the car. Now inside the shelter, he was watching Bruce talk to a whole slew of people. All cozying up to the great and wonderful Bruce Fucking Wayne.

When his Bruce died and Dick disappeared, thanks to the fear junkie shit, that left the replacement with all the money. Jason wasn’t legally alive and there wasn’t time to write him into the will so he got nothing, which was just par for the course. That meant that in his world Tim Drake was the centre of attention and King of Gotham. Fucker probably engineered it, considering the way he threw himself at Bruce the second Jason disappeared.

Jason was perfectly fine not having all that attention. He probably would have shot one of the reporters by now. Not that he was meant to have a gun anywhere near him. But what Bruce didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Well… it very much could, but he was doing better. He was less ready to kill at the drop of a pin. God wasn’t that a sad concept?

He left Bruce alone to fend off the media and turned down a hallway. He halted as he saw two people ahead. A haggard looking staff member clutching a small crate with shaking hands, and a woman crouching down to see inside. The woman he would recognise anywhere. Selina Kyle. What the hell was she doing here?

Then a kitten reluctantly crawled out of the door and towards Selina’s arms. Ah. That explains it. He should have expected that, of course catwoman would be here collecting cats.

Jason went to turn away when Selina called out.

“Hey, are you looking for a kitten? This little one just came in.” She said kindly, stroking the kitten behind the ears. It was grey with black stripes and white paws. It’s tail and back leg were missing as it snuggled deep into her chest, seemingly trying to steal her warmth.

Jason paused and put his hands in his pockets, looking down. She hadn’t seemed to have recognised him. Maybe they never met here, that would be much better than having to explain himself to someone the Jason of this world used to know. Like with Roy. It was so awkward and now that they knew the other Jason wasn’t dead, it would be an even harsher reminder that he didn’t belong here. That he wasn’t welcome here.

“I uh… not really? I came here with my dad and stuff. Animals don’t tend to like me… but I can uh take a look I guess?” Jason stammered a reply, slowly approaching. Dogs always barked at him as he passed and cats constantly ran away. It was like even the animals could tell something was wrong with him. The only ones who didn’t were Damian’s pets, but then again, they had Damian as their owner. He and Damian were similar levels of fucked up. They must be used to it by now.

Selina smiled softly and gently handed the kitten over to him. It meweled at the temporary loss of warmth, but quickly cuddled up into Jason’s chest when he started to hold it.

Okay, he sees what Selina’s on about now. These cats are pretty cute.

—

The shelter was unusually quiet. Selina had been called in on a Wednesday afternoon to take a look at a stray kitten. Whenever they had a stray or feral cat in, she was the woman they called. They all said she was magic at calming the cats down, but it wasn’t magic. Just patience, love, and understanding. As she was coaxing the latest kitten out of the crate where it had been hiding all day, she heard movement down the hall.

Taking a quick glance while still calling the kitten, Selina spotted the very last person she expected to see.

Jason Peter Todd.

The boy that was meant to have died nine years ago.

She almost didn’t recognise him. He had grown up, in fact, he looked a lot like Bruce. She thought for a split second that maybe it could be him, but he was hunched and looked incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Sure Bruce generally was an awkward and uncomfortable person, especially in private, but in public he played the role of a socialite to a tee. Plus there wasn’t the typical crowd following him like Bruce would have. Fame and fortune came at a price, and that price was everyone cared about Bruce Wayne. Nobody cared about a boy who had supposedly died years ago.

Selina called out to him as she heard him turn away, scooping the kitten into her arms. She invited him over to have a look. He clearly didn’t want to be here. He was behaving like one of her feral cats, scared of everything with an aversion to people. That was fine, she would just treat him like one of the strays. Give him space, let him know she’s safe, and let him come to her on his own terms. Forcing it would only make him lash out or run away.

He approached hesitantly and took the kitten from her. She noticed his posture soften and relax as the kitten got comfortable. There was a hint of a smile that looked strange on his face, like he wasn’t used to smiling. Already Selina could feel her heart melting for the little stray. When he was little he was her kitten, and it seemed not much had changed as he got older. He was just a little more damaged than he used to be. She couldn’t see any of the fire he used to have.

Little Jason would mouth off to her or talk her ear off about something he saw with B. This one hadn’t said a single word beyond his response to her insisting he approach. He also kept shying away from her and the shelter staff, unlike the little kitten he was who seemed to flock towards people. Admittedly not as much as Dick, but he never outright avoided her like the next bird, Tim.

As Jason stroked the kitten, she saw Bruce come around the corner looking concerned. He relaxed as soon as he saw Jason, then went rigid when he saw Selina. Last time they spoke, she had suggested they put their relationship on hold. Bruce had been distracted and barely spoke to her or put in their usual chase the whole time. In hindsight, it made sense why he was so distracted. It was around the time that this new red hood had surfaced and Jason had probably popped up too. Of course Bruce would care more about his clearly damaged previously dead son than a game of cat and mouse. But in typical Batman fashion, he never told her any of that.

“Bruce Wayne, of all the people I expected to run into, it certainly wasn’t you.” Selina said with a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jason flinch. Seems like he didn’t like being around Bruce much either. That was fair enough, he was a hard man to be around. Especially if you hated attention.

“Selina Kyle, as I live and breathe.” Bruce said with a smile, walking towards her and opening his arms. The gesture was very reminiscent of galas and high society gatherings filled with fake people doing and saying things they never mean. Unlike them, there was a softness to his eyes and smile that felt far more genuine than anything she had received previously. He kissed her cheeks and took a step back, watching her carefully before flicking his eyes over to Jason.

So he was worried about him, like she was. Good. It was nice to see him finally step up to be a decent father. All it took was the death of his kid.

Jason was moving away from the both of them, trying to distance himself.

“Hello Jason. It has been quite a while. What do you think you’ll do with the kitten?” Selina asked gently, taking a step away from him, giving him his space.

Jason flinched as she said his name then shrugged before looking at Bruce. He didn’t even say anything. She could see Bruce instantly cave. Of course Jason, the prodigal son, would get anything and everything he wanted. To be fair, she would do the same.

“Well, I can teach you how to care for it and come over to check on it and help, if you wish.” Selina said. Jason gave a non-comittal shrug as his answer, wish she chose to believe was a yes. “You can also come over to meet my other cats if you would like.”

Jason glanced over at Bruce who sighed deeply. “Fine. I’ll go get the adoption papers drawn up.” He said after a silent staring contest between the two.

Jason grinned then gently handed the kitten back to Selina. “Thanks dad.” He said then stilled and realised exactly what he said. He whirled around and pointed at Bruce. “Shut up. You didn’t hear that from me, old man.” Jason growled. That didn’t stop the smile from creeping across Bruce’s face.

Dad.

Bruce must have been so proud. Even Selina had a hard time not smiling at that. “Well, I’ll let you two get to it, but my place is open any time. Just drop by, and I can get you some spare cat toys and litter.” She told Jason who was still glaring at Bruce. Jason simply snorted and rolled his eyes.

He’d be back. She just knew it. He wasn’t so different from her little kitten after all.

—

That night word came through that some supervillain activity had been spotted in Gotham. Sure they were minor villains, but villains all the same. Hyena and Captain Nazi, what a fucking stupid name, had been seen. They weren’t Gotham villains so it was curious hearing about them. There was also rumoured to be a third one, but they didn’t have confirmation on an identity.

It was also rumoured that they were hunting Red Hood. That was fine, let them come. He was ready for them. Really, black mask calling in some third rate villains to take him down? They really underestimated him. Good. Jason couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when they got a bullet through the skull.

Watching one of his top dealers, knowing there would no doubt be an attack on him soon, proved to be the right move.

He shot the Molotov cocktail right out of his hand, watching it fall and start to burn the screaming man. Red Hood walked over and picked up a forgotten crowbar, smacking it against his hand. Each smack brought back a sharp pain shooting through his body, a twitch of the head as the sound brought back laughter. He raised the crowbar and let it collide with the man’s jaw behind him. His jaw cracked before Jason quickly threw the weapon aside. He couldn’t do this. Not with that.

It was just a weapon. It was just a weapon. It was just a weapon.

(It really wasn’t.)

He then kicked the third and final attacker in the head, watching them pass out. He turned to his dealer and indicated with his head for him to flee. “Go on, leave. This fight is about to get ugly.” He said, helmet giving it a robotic growl.

The men on his side scrambled to get away, heading their bosses words. After all, if that wasn’t messy, what was? They were definitely way out of their depth here.

Leaving Red Hood all alone, there was the tell tale stomp of good old Captain Nazi. Before he could go into some racist facist tirade, Jason shot at his kneecaps.

It wouldn’t do much, but it would at least shut him up. The captain stumbled forwards as something launched itself at Jason, clawing into his back.

Hyena laughed and hissed at him as he, or wasn’t this one a she? Bit at his neck. He reached a hand up and pulled him, her, off. He really should figure that out, he would never want to misgender the supervillain clawing at his face.

He threw her, he was pretty sure hyena was a she, at the ground. She yelped as she slid across the concrete, struggling to get to her feet.

As she did, Captain Nazi charged at him, apparently recovered from the bullet wound. That was annoying. Jason leapt out of the way, only for Hyena to claw down his back.

It tore through the jacket and hit his armoured top. Were he not wearing his stab vest, he would definitely feel it. The issue with armour was you had to tailor it to what you were fighting. Normally he wore the bulletproof vests, but tonight he knew he would have Hyena so if someone shot him, he couldn’t guarantee that the armour would hold up.

As he hit the ground and rolled to break his fall and get back up, Captain Nazi was suddenly tackled into the ground.

Batman loomed above him. He couldn’t help but groan. Of course the bat was here. He couldn’t have any villains, besides his rogues gallery, in Gotham. That also included heroes and vigilantes. The bat was probably here to arrest him for breaking his precious rule and these two third rate fucks were in the way.

“Well well well, look who finally showed up.” Red Hood crowed as he ducked under a fist and brought an elbow up. “Aren’t you a bit late, like always?” He said with a sneer. To anyone else, Batman didn’t react, but Jason was used to reading him. He saw the most minute flinch. The bat actually felt bad about that? Jason didn’t blame him for being too late. That was just to get under his skin. He blamed him for everything that came after. For moving on so quickly and replacing him, for keeping that damn clown alive, even if he heard that Batman had been close. That the fucking Boy Scout, superman, stopped him. Red Hood didn’t believe it.

Batman said nothing in response as they worked in tandem to take the two villains down. When they both struck Captain Nazi, the whole world tilted sideways. He was unable to see or hear as he hit the ground. Batman was lying next to him, both of them trying not to heave. Through swimming vision, he could just make out a bright green coat and a man standing there. Vertigo.

So they finally brought out the big guns. “What’s the plan, old man?!” Jason shouted at Batman as he pulled the gun out from his belt with shaking hands. Even just that movement made him nauseous. This positively sucked.

As Batman was reaching up to do something, a crack echoed through the area. Vertigo stumbled back, the wave of nausea lifting. When Jason struggled to his feet, he saw blood pooling across Vertigo’s chest.

“No!” Bruce shouted, surging forwards. Count Vertigo fell back and hit the ground. As Batman checked his vital signs, trying to make sure the man was okay, Jason looked around for where the shot came from.

Bruce could try to save one stupid villains life all he wanted. The man deserved to die, no one would mourn much if he didn’t make it.

As he looked around, he spotted a sniper rifle. Standing up as was the bats new kid, the Arkham Knight. Bats let him have guns and kill? What a fucking hypocrite. Jason wasn’t allowed to, but this guy was? God he could kill Bruce right now.

Batman stood up and made a call for an ambulance. So it wasn’t a killing shot, but Vertigo probably wouldn’t last long without help. That was fine. That just left Captain Nazi and Hyena. Again. Why couldn’t this Knight kid take them out too?

He looked over and saw the Knight packing up his stuff. Fine. He was used to being on his own. An arm wrapped around his throat, yanking him back as Batman worked on tying up Hyena.

Batman whirled around and faced them. “Let him go!” He yelled as Captain Nazi started gloating.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like he can do much. He is an outdated bastard anyway.” Jason said and jammed a taser into the captains eye. The man screamed and convulsed, the taser shorting out his system. “One last bastard to deal with.” He said with a grin beneath his helmet as Batman simply stared at him, saying nothing. “What? Not going to give me the whole ‘we don’t kill’ speech?”

Bruce sighed and crossed his arms. “No. It would be pointless, you’ve made your choice. You can still come home, Jason. But if you keep choosing to kill without trying to take another route, then I cannot condone your actions as Red hood. But you will always be my son.” He said.

Jason was shocked. Then angry. “What about that Arkham knight guy?! He isn’t trying to find a new way and is using lethal force. You still run around with him!” He yelled.

“AK is different. He’s…” Bruce paused and trailed off before sighing. “Look, AK isn’t well. He uses lethal force because he can’t control himself. He doesn’t know the difference but he shows remorse and tries to make up for it. You aren’t like him, you seem to know the difference and show no remorse. Do you feel bad for the people you killed?”

“Not really. They deserved it.” Jason said with a shrug. But it was surprising knowing Bruce of all people was okay with such a liability in his city. Not being able to control yourself and kill people because of it? That’s Arkham worthy. Actually, that’s probably where he got the name. Cause he needed to be in there. No wonder Bats took him under his wing, he always did love the hopeless cases.

“Nice offer and all but I’m not gonna stop. Not until this city is clean, something you refuse to do. So no thanks, Batman, I’m good on my own.” Jason hissed before extending a grapple line and propelling himself overhead and away into Gotham city.

——

The bullet impacted with Count Vertigo, the man falling back. Jay hadn’t used a lethal shot. Sure it would hurt like hell, and he’d probably be out for quite a while, but he was playing nice with Bats right now and yeah a shattered collarbone might be extreme, but he was alive. So what did it matter? Bats beat people into unconsciousness all the time. That could not be good on the brain.

He stood up and started packing away the rifle. His job was done, Bats and the other Jason could deal with the rest. The other Jason. God that was going to get annoying and confusing fast. Maybe Arkham Knight should take him out to save them all the trouble. He did have a sniper rifle on him after all. No, that went against the whole ‘place nice with Bats’ thing he had going on.

He sighed and moved to the edge of the building. He went to repel down when he spotted something. A blur of blue and orange. Deathstroke. Fuck. What was he doing here?! Laughter echoed in the back of his head.

”I paid him to look after you, birdie! You’re my little jaybird!” A voice laced with laughter echoed in the back of his mind. Joker didn’t know about him here. He couldn’t. He might still be alive but he didn’t know. Neither did Slade. He didn’t exist. He was safe. It wasn’t him they were here for.

‘Oh but it is. They’re here for Jason Todd. You’re a Jason Todd, aren’t you?’ The Arkham Knight whispered to Jay. He was right. ‘You need me. I can protect you from them.’ Arkham Knight kept whispering. He was wrong. He could protect himself, he wasn’t some helpless child without the Knight. He could do this, all he had to do was avoid them and he was good.

But he did want to see where Slade was going.

That curiosity would be his downfall.

After all, curiosity killed the cat. And satisfaction certainly didn’t bring him back.

Chapter Text

The back of his head was wet, wire cutting into his skin. Jay could feel steel underneath him, he was tied to a chair. Lifting his head, he carefully looked around the abandoned amusement park. Amusement mile was where the joker was rumoured to be. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He doesn’t remember coming here. He can’t be here. He shouldn’t be here and definitely not tied to a chair.
He stilled as he heard laughter, and the scraping of a crowbar against the ground.
“Good morning little bird! You were meant to be my greatest joke, the ultimate punchline! And you,” metal collided with his face, “ruined it by coming back. I killed you! I know I did! And you’re younger than you should be, so why aren’t you still dead?” The joker screamed, hitting him from the other side. He then swung back and hit him from the front.
The chair tipped back and slammed against the ground. Jay’s head hit the concrete as his vision swam. All he could hear was laughter, and the knight screaming to let him out.
“But don’t worry. I’ve thought of an even funnier joke.” The joker said with another cackle, standing over Jay and looking down at him with that deranged grin.
And Jay? He had a hard time just keeping his eyes open.
——
Batman spent the next week scouring the city from head to toe. On day two Nightwing came to help. On day three had everyone in the family looking, including Signal. He foolishly hoped that signal’s powers could help, but so far they had found nothing. At first people thought he had just run away again, but then Oracle picked up footage of Jay going after Deathstroke. And with the fact that they hadn’t seen him since, they could only assume the worst.
On day four catwoman found him on the rooftops.
“Hiya Bats.” She said in that all too familiar flirty tone, swinging her hips as she strutted over to him, reaching out to run a hand across his chest.
Batman grabbed her hand and pulled it away. “Not now.” He said quietly.
She sighed and looked a little upset, but removed her hand anyway. “I noticed you didn’t take part in our usual little chase and the city has been full of bats and birds more than usual. Is something going on?” She asked.
Bruce said nothing, he just kept watching the horizon.
“Fine. If you won’t talk to me, I think we should stop. For good.” She retorted.
That caught his attention.
“You’ve been distracted, you haven’t been telling me what’s going on, and you didn’t tell me about Jason. You know I loved the kitten and you didn’t tell me that you lied about his death?!” Selina continued.
“I didn’t lie!” Bruce snapped then took a deep breath to compose himself. “Jason really did die. Who you saw in the shelter wasn’t the Jason you know. It’s very complicated, but the bottom line is he isn’t our Jason Todd. Jason is back, but as Red Hood. I don’t know how.” Bruce confessed. He then took a breath and moved his eyes away from her. The next part was hard to admit. “The boy you met; whom we call Jay or AK, is missing. We think Deathstroke got to him. A contract was out on red hood, and I believe it’s a case of mistaken identity.”
That was not what she expected. Jay but not Jason? It made no sense. What did make sense was AK, he was likely this Arkham Knight that had surfaced. Which meant Bruce had been lying to her for months.
If she wasn’t so used to it, she would kill him. The man didn’t exactly know what trust was.
She wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t know the kid, not really, not if he wasn’t Jason. But Bruce clearly cared about him. “I’ll help you look for him. But Batman, if this really is the work of Deathstroke, then we’re looking for a body.” Selina said gently, placing a hand on his arm.
“I know.” Batman responded before leaping off the building. He was always so dramatic. But if Red Hood was her little kitten, maybe she could get him to come around her place and meet the cats instead. He’d like them, he always did when he was a kid.
——
On the sixth day, Commissioner Gordon had called in the bomb squad. Batman landed behind him, watching the precinct. “What’s the situation?” He asked gruffly.
Gordon turned to face him before looking back. “We got a package delivered to the precinct covered in smiling mouths, green and purple wrapping paper, and the letters H A written all over it.” He told Batman.
So the Joker delivered a package. No wonder they were so careful. “Who was it addressed to?” Batman asked.
“You, actually. If we got the all clear from the bomb squad, we were going to turn on the light and send for you.” Gordon replied.
A message, for him. It was either harmless or very dangerous. It was unlikely the bomb squad would detect anything. “Pull your men out and send me in.” Batman ordered.
“What? Let them at least give the all clear first.” Gordon demanded.
“They won’t find anything even if it is dangerous. Keep everyone out and I’ll go in.” He argued back.
Gordon sighed and reluctantly agreed, letting Batman go in after he called the bomb squad out. The package was a small box sitting on the counter. Bruce tore off the paper and opened the box after scanning it thoroughly. Inside was a cassette tape with red letters painted on it saying HA HA HA and ‘To Batsy.’
He needed a cassette player.
Getting back to the cave, they sourced a cassette player and recalled everyone back to the manor. If the joker was making moves, then no one was safe. Damian protested, as always, but Dick managed to wrangle him back and into bed.
Duke had elected to stay up with them and watch the tape. Everyone else were technically adults so they could make their own decisions and that decision was that they wanted to see whatever challenge or game Joker had devised. Bruce couldn’t disagree. It was good to be prepared.
Putting the tape in, everyone gathered around the screen to watch. The tape started rolling with the footage fuzzy and fritzing somewhat.
“Bats! Glad you could get my message!” The joker called out, his face the only thing taking up the frame. “You must be wondering what this is about. What wonderful plans I have for us!” He put his hands on his chest and stepped back, dancing around a little. “Well! You must have noticed a sweet little birdie has gone missing!” He started cackling and grabbed the camera.
Bruce felt his heart drop into his stomach. Dick gasped next to him and Duke cursed silently. Bruce didn’t even admonish him for it. He was thinking the same thing.
The camera panned over to a figure strapped to a chair. The figure slowly lifted his head, looking over with a blank expression and empty blue eyes that seemed to see nothing. The liquid latex had been peeled away to reveal Jay’s brand, blood dried on his face. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that this little one,” Joker patted Jay’s head, “was alive! And already worked over! He says it was me but I don’t remember doing any such thing!” He started cackling as Jay flinched, casting his eyes to the side. “Oh well! You thought I would have remembered such exquisite work!”
Joker then set the camera down on a table and grabbed Jason’s shirt, ripping it off him. In the corner was the Arkham Knight suit, discarded and in a pile with a broken helmet. The shirt revealed hundreds of scars that Jay never let them see. It made Bruce feel sick.
Joker started cackling, tracing his fingers over the scars. “What a piece of artistry. Let’s add some more, what do you say little birdie?” Joker cooed before lifting a knife. He grabbed Jay’s hair and forced his head back, then sliced across his cheeks, splitting them wide open.
Jay started to choke as blood ran down his face and front, pooling all across his bare chest. And the joker just kept laughing.
“Isn’t he just the prettiest bird in town?!” The man exclaimed maniacally. “Three days batsy! Three days to find him till I kill him again! And this time,” jokers voice got real low as he grabbed the camera, “I’ll make sure he can never wake up.” The film then shut off.
Bruce glanced around. Dick was leaning on a table, trying not to vomit. Tim had taken a step back and was covering his mouth as Duke looked just as sick as Dick. Cass was silent and unreadable, but he could feel that she was upset and angry. And Bruce? Bruce had so many emotions he didn’t know how to sort through them.
Roy was at the back of the cave, slinging his quiver over his shoulder. “Well? You heard the psycho, let’s get a move on.” The archer demanded, grabbing a bike and throwing his leg over.
Bruce looked around and nodded. “Contact everyone you can, including the supers. We need as many eyes and ears in this city as possible. Let’s go.” He commanded before making his way to the batmobile.
The Batmobile roared down the streets. Batman screeched to a stop when he saw a familiar figure on the rooftops above. Red hood was shadowing him.
He leapt out and grappled to the rooftop above. “Red Hood! We need to talk.” Batman commanded.
A kick hit him from the back. “Like hell we do! Are all the bats out for little old me?” Red Hood sneered.
Bruce turned around and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. “Jason. Thank god you’re alright. I wasn’t sure.” He whispered, holding him close.
A burning pain was in his side. Looking down he noted blood and a knife. A Kris to be exact. That was a rather curious weapon, that made everything make sense regarding where Jason had been for all these long years. He was surprised Ra’as ever let him go. Ra’as Al Ghul was not one to just let his assassins walk away.
Jason shoved him away and jumped back. “What the fuck was that for, old man?!” He demanded.
Bruce carefully scoured the skyline before taking off his cowl. He was so worried that this Jason would be taken by the joker too. He couldn’t lose both his sons. Even just one would devastate him, but both? He didn’t think he would ever recover. “I’m just glad you’re alright. There’s been an incident.” Bruce paused and took a breath. “Involving the joker.”
Jason ground his teeth together. “And why do you care? Not like you’re going to do anything about it.” He hissed.
Bruce sighed and brought up his gauntlet. “You’re wrong. I need your help Jason. I need your help tracking down the Joker and… well it isn’t safe to kill him. It’s been discovered that whoever kills him will become the next joker. But if we can put him away where he can never escape, then I want you there with me to do it.”
Jason took off his helmet, tucking it under his arm. He looked genuinely surprised and a little pissed off at the offer. “Whatever, convenient excuses. And what exactly is this incident you’re on about?” He demanded.
On the gauntlet a mini projector opened up. Oracle had digitised the tape for him while he was driving around so they could scrub through and look for clues. He displayed the video, without sound, for Jason.
As soon as Jason saw the figure in the chair, he grabbed Bruce by the collar of his armour and forced him forwards. “What the fuck is this?! Who is that?” He demanded.
Here came the convoluted explanation that would never be good enough. Jay was right, he really fucked up here. “That is the Arkham Knight. Joker believes he’s you and is trying to use him to get to me. We have three days before Joker kills him.” Bruce confessed.
Jason let go and shoved him away, laughing mirthlessly. He dropped his helmet and kicked it. “Fuck!” He yelled. “You fucking replaced me with a goddamn look alike? Is that all I was to you?”
“No!” Bruce shouted back. “You’re not some object to be replaced. You never were. I mourned you. But there was an accident at Wayne Industries that involved universal travel. There I met that world's Jason Todd, known as the Arkham Knight. But the technology used to bring me back to our world was imperfect and brought back everyone within a certain radius. That just so happened to be Arkham Knight and a mercenary named Anderson. You were never replaced, Jason, you mattered so much to me. It was just an accident that Arkham Knight ended up here.” He confessed, voice quiet and subdued.
“Right, and it’s just pure coincidence that you need my help finding this guy that totally wasn’t a replacement for me?” Jason said bitterly.
“He isn’t a replacement for you. Arkham Knight is his own person with a different life, but he needs help. A lot of help and would you really wish him to spend the rest of his days with joker?” Bruce asked.
Jason was silent, looking away from him.
“Jason… Joker is torturing him right now. Please, help me put the psychotic killer away for good.” Bruce pretty much begged.
Jason sighed and looked back. “Fine. I’ll help. But this doesn’t make us partners. As soon as Joker is gone, we part ways.” He said.
And really, what more could Bruce ask for?

Chapter Text

Blood ran down his chin, dripping slowly as Jay’s head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling. Beams and corrugated iron crossed above him, plating over brick as he stood in the darkness strapped to a rusted iron support. At least it wasn’t Arkham. He could hear footsteps, and the scraping of something against the concrete ground, laughter ringing out. The damn clown was back.
”Let me out! You need me! You really think you can survive another encounter with him?” Arkham knight screamed, fist pounding the glass in his mind.
“Bruce will come…” Jay whispered, the blood pooling in his mouth and on his lips as he spoke.
”Like he did last time? Does he even know you’re missing?” The knight chided, voice cold and emotionless. He had since stopped pounding the glass and was leaning against the wall of his imposed prison within Jay’s mind, arms crossed.
“Wasn’t the same Bruce. This one cares…” Jay whispered back, tentatively. He knew it was a different, more caring Bruce, but was he really the best detective out there?
”He couldn’t even figure out his son was alive. Besides. His Jason is back, why would he ever come for you?” The knight responded, not moving from his position.
Jay was silent, letting his head fall down to his chin. He had to concede that argument, the knight was right. Why would this world's Batman go after him when they knew the true identity of the red hood?
His thought process suddenly halted as the door ahead swung open and a figure took up the frame. A slender, skinny figure with green hair, a purple suit, and a crowbar dragging behind him.
Fuck. The knight was right, he was too fragile to deal with this. He needed something, or rather someone, far more impassive and cold. Someone who had survived the torture before and wouldn’t care about taking it again if it meant he could achieve his goals.
Maybe it was time for the Knight.
——
A figure dropped onto the rooftop next to him. Bruce could see the way their finger twitched over the pistols. Jason was here and he was ready to draw on him at any given moment. He wanted his son to trust him, but he understood. If he wanted space, he would give it to him.
“Got some stuff for you, old man. Joker was last seen at amusement Mile. But. There’s tunnels underneath it that were being used for storage. Some joker goons have been spotted going in and out of those tunnels. Joker hasn’t been seen, but I wager he’s there.” Red hood said, imperceptibly flinching every time joker’s name was mentioned. But Bruce caught it, he always noticed everything, except for the right things. Like how he didn’t notice Jason’s survival or the hole in the graveyard.
“If he isn’t there, Joker’s plans still need to be neutralised. We cannot allow for him to not be contained.” Batman stated.
Red Hood snorted. “Right. Contained. As if Arkham was doing that.” Bruce could practically feel his son rolling his eyes behind his helmet as he spoke.
Admittedly Arkham Asylum was not the most secure place, despite all the effort and guarantees, but he could not think of a better alternative. He knew Red Hood’s alternative, but that was not an option. Especially not with everything they knew about the joker.
“Will you come with us?” Bruce asked. They both knew exactly what he was asking.
Red Hood paused and took off his helmet, setting it down on the rooftop and resting a foot atop of it. It still pulled at Bruce’s heart to see Jason older like this, all grown up. He should have been there, should have seen him go from a skinny little kid to the big, strong boy he is now. Bruce would have thrown him the biggest graduation party of all time.
Jason reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette, lighting it. Bruce grunted in disapproval, but he knew he didn’t have the position to actually boss Jason around.
“Piss off, old man. Sure, I’ll join you. But if the joker shows, there’s no guarantee I won’t just kill him.” Jason said.
Which was admittedly more than Bruce could ask for. He just had to make sure Joker and Jason never meet. Not for the jokers sakes, but for Jason’s. If his boy was infected, he doesn’t know what he would do. Either of his boys. Jay’s condition was still up in the air, but at least it hadn’t deteriorated.
Yet.

Chapter Text

Lights flickered as laughter echoed, burning in his skull. Glass cracked inside his mind as a fist connected with it. Over and over and over again, the fist pounded against it.
”Let me out! You won’t make it out alive without me!” The knight screamed, voice uncharacteristically hoarse and cracking. It wasn’t like him to show emotion. To show fear. The knight was afraid and that scared Jay more than anything. And he could hear the laughter, the scraping down the corridor. Joker was back, his second time today. Jay… He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. And he wasn’t sure the knight could. They were both so afraid.
Then the glass shattered.
Fragments spread through his mind, fracturing and cracking, a scream being trapped in his throat.
Cold hands grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him back. A soft blue room surrounded him, with a big bed and posters, including one of the flying Grayson’s. A red hoodie was draped over a chair at a desk with half finished homework still on it. The door slammed in front of Jay, as he started to scream for the Knight to let him out. Then the door locked and silence wove through the cracks.
The knight opened his eyes, looking at the slowly approaching clown.
————
The lights switched off, plunging the place into darkness. Instantly, the HUD on his hood lit up, displaying night vision and heat signatures. He instantly spotted two people below, one seemingly tied to a chair and the other leaning over them. The parallels were not lost in him, he could recognise that predatory pose from anywhere. After all, it haunted his dreams and waking days.
Green tinged the purple heat signatures, causing him to growl under his breath. He couldn’t afford to lose control, fighting the clown with a messy mind would never end well. He neeeded a clear head for this. Or so he told himself, for his thoughts were anything but clear, they were bouncing around everywhere constantly. And they all went back to one question, why? Why was he here, why did he care, why didn’t he come sooner, why would Batman care about this kid and not him? All variations of the same thought and boy did the green just love them.
He could see other heat signatures hitting the floor, still alive of course. And of course the others didn’t turn up. It seemed the bat technology had evolved. So Red Hood decided to take the opportunity and distraction to slip in through a side door. The stairs led down to the service tunnels below amusement mile, which still had some flickering lights. So the clown had a backup generator for down here. Smart. Not that it would do him much good.
He pulled out a pistol, loading it and checking the chamber. He then crept along, switching back from the night vision and heat signature to normal vision. The tunnels were still rather dark and wet, dripping with water. Some of them were probably under the bay, he just loved the smell of polluted water.
Jason grit his teeth as he heard that awful, grating laughter, skin clamming up as tingles spread across his body, burning and poking in places where he still swore he felt the crowbar collide with his body, where the bomb rippled across his skin. Hands tightened around his pistols as he stepped out and kicked down the metal door.
Only to see something he was not expecting.
A kid with his face had his arms wrapped around the laughing clown, blood running down his face and obscuring it in red. The arms themselves were around the jokers neck, muscular biceps choking the man who seemed delighted.
The kid turned to look at him, face blank and eyes empty. The only thing he saw was anger, and beyond that, resignation. Everything else was empty. It was like everything that made him human was scooped out. If he was laughing Jason would have sworn he was dosed with joker venom. But this kid was deathly silent.
And Bruce didn’t lie, he really was Jason’s twin. No wonder the joker went after him.
Jason watched him choke the clown, the kid dropping the body right as Joker seemed to lose consciousness. Red Hood took a step forward and raised the gun, hand shaking as his breath tightened in his chest. This was it. This was everything he wanted.
Then the kid put a hand over his and shook his head. “Killing the clown like this only makes a new one. His blood is toxic and could infect either one of us. Or both.” He said quietly.
Jason slapped his hand away. “Shut up! He deserves to die!” He snapped.
“I know.” The kid said, matter of factly. There was no emotion here. “Bury him in these tunnels instead. Just don’t shoot him. You can find his corpse later, but wear a hazmat suit when you do.”
Jason paused and lowered the gun, before swearing under his breath. Reaching into his belt, he took out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed the clown to a pipe.
“Let’s get out of here first.” Jason said to the kid. It was fucking weird seeing him with his face, even if he was a little, younger, shorter and less muscular than he was, but he was still a victim. Because of him. “Can you walk?” He asked. The kid didn’t look good, he was covered in blood and it looked like his foot was bent the wrong way. And- fuck, did he really choke a guy with a piece of his bone sticking out of his arm?
The kid just shrugged and limped past him, carrying to the door like it was nothing. Like it didn’t even hurt.
Fucking hell was this kid hardcore. Jason was actually kind of impressed, but he had to get out of here first. And level the place.
The kid was right, there were too many risks to shooting the clown now. But there was also the risk of him escaping. He hated every second of this, as he and the kid slowly moved towards the tunnels exit.

Chapter Text

When his two boys emerged from under amusement mile, Bruce felt overwhelming relief. But beneath that relief was also worry. Worry that Jason would leave him again, that Jay would be right back where he started, the headache he would have with dealing with this and the rest of the family. The fact that Jay and Jason were two different people wasn’t exactly something he was open about. He never really lied about it, but he never stressed the truth either. Whatever this was, it would not be easy to deal with the fallout.

It had been a very tense and quiet drive back to the manor. Typically that only happened if something was very wrong, a fact that set Bruce very much on edge. More on edge than he already was. Jay was completely silent, Jason at least made some remarks and protested at the idea of getting in the batmobile. But Jay was not doing well at all and Jason had very reluctantly agreed to come with to keep an eye on him. They both agreed Jason was far more equipped to deal with a joker victim than Bruce. 

Jason didn’t know how bad it was, but the kid was smart, he likely already figured out that things were worse than he made out. Also he seemed to be keeping the argument to a minimum for Jay’s case. Otherwise it would be so much more volatile. He didn’t know what was worse, the screaming and insults, or the silence. 

They pulled into the cave to find Anderson and Alfred waiting for them. Jason immediately drew a gun, pointing it at Anderson as he climbed out. 

“Fuck is this Bruce? You just let anyone in here?” Jason demanded. Anderson didn’t look phased by the weapon. Bruce really should have taken the guns off of him, but they seemed to make him feel safe and he wasn’t about to interfere in that. Not when emotions were so high already. And it wasn’t his place to take weapons off of adults unless they were actively hurting people. Which Jason hadn’t done quite yet, but he might. He was currently praying Anderson didn’t say something stupid. 

“Nah. Had to fight my way down when I heard about the kid. Come on boss, you can get out now.” Anderson said, gesturing for Jay to get out of the car. 

Jay was silent as he did, climbing out and looking around. “Where’s the rest of the troops?” He asked. His first words since they left amusement mile. That… did not bode well. 

Anderson’s face fell but he quickly covered it up. “They’re back at base but the place was compromised. We can’t go back. Rich bastard offered his place so I’m taking all his money.” He said, motioning with his head towards Bruce. 

Jason made eye contact with Alfred and mouthed ‘troops?’ As soon as he saw Alfred he refused to even look at Bruce which hurt. It cracked his soul a little, but he always knew Alfred was the favourite. 

“It would not do well to gossip or make plans to rob a man in his own home. I made biscuits.” Alfred stated in his own, overly collected way, holding out a tray. 

It was like a silent stalemate, waiting for the shootout. No one willing to move first in case something erupted. 

Anderson shrugged and reached for a biscuit. “Never could say no to free food. Come on boss, let’s go grab a post op shower. Bet you’re fucking desperate to wash that shit off ya.” He said, grabbing two and holding one out to Jay. 

Jay hesitantly took it and silently followed Anderson upstairs. 

As soon as they left, Jason turned on him. 

“What the fuck Bruce?! You always got on at me to be careful about secret identities and shit then you bring some kid, who I haven’t forgotten has my fucking face, and his fucking what, employee? Caretaker? What is this?!” Jason yelled, rather predictably. 

He knew this was coming. It had been coming for a long time. 

“Lieutenant Anderson was hired by the Arkham Knight to serve in his private militia. The Knight was a vicious and dangerous mercenary rumoured to have been trained by Deathstroke in his own universe. Both the Knight and Anderson were involved in an incident involving universal travel. They’ve been staying here since while Wayne Industries works on a way to send them back.” Bruce said in his Batman voice. Facts only. Report what matters and nothing else. 

Maybe that was the wrong choice. Jason seemed even more pissed off by that. 

“What the fuck?! Are you insane?! You just let a genocidal maniac with a fucking army live in your house with kids around? Are you actually crazy?!” Jason yelled again, gesticulating with his weapons as he paced back and forth. 

“Jason.” Bruce said. Jason gritted his teeth when he heard his name. “He has been living here and not caused an issue. There were some incidents, but those were mental breakdowns. You saw the kid. He doesn’t have a concept of reality, Joker <em>broke</em> that for him. He needs help and I know he will not get that in Arkham.” 

Jason snorted and put his guns away, crossing his arms. “You’re right about that. Arkham doesn’t do shit. But how are you gonna help him? You’re not a fucking psychiatrist. I mean you can’t save anyone, you couldn’t even save me.” 

The remark cut Bruce to his core. Because he was right. He couldn’t save anyone, he couldn’t save his own children. He had always failed everyone he loved and now he was failing a kid that wasn’t even really his. He had his Jason back but he couldn’t give up on Jay. Maybe fixing would be too much for him to do, he just wanted to stop making things worse. 

“Jay is not in any  position to see a therapist. It’s his story to tell, not mine, but I can tell you he is Jason Todd from another universe that also had his own incident with the Joker. He is skilled and trained with PTSD amongst others. A civilian psychiatrist would not be safe.” Bruce explained again, trying to press to Jason how serious the situation was.

But Jason just rolled his eyes. “And those kids are? You’re a fucking hypocrite. I see nothing’s changed.” He snapped and turned on his heels, marching towards the exit. Not the one into the manor, but the garage door they normally took vehicles out on for patrol. Jason stopped and got on a bike. “I’m taking this as payment. Your kid is saved or whatever. That’s what I was here for, right?” He said. 

Bruce wanted to stop him. Make him stay. But what could he say? 

Instead he watched Jason drive away and tear off into the night, like the coward Bruce was. He just wanted all his kids safe and at home. Why couldn’t he tell them that?  

——

Anderson guided Jay, no, the Knight to his room. The poor kid still seemed really spaced out, like he wasn’t aware of what was happening or even where he was. Which, was kind of fair. They were on a completely different earth, which was absolutely insane by the way, why did everyone act like this was normal? Anyway, they were on a different earth. Of course he didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know much about the kids personal life, he didn’t even know he was a kid until at most a couple months ago, but there might have been differences between this world and theirs. After all, the other Jason, or whatever his name was, seemed nothing like the Knight. 

Sure there was that same anger but nothing like the Knight’s. When the Knight was angry he was <em>angry.</em> He once watched him take out a man’s eye with a spoon because he said Batman would be an easy fight. Apparently the Knight wanted to prove a point but Anderson still wasn’t sure what point he was proving. 

He opened the door and sat the Knight on his king size bed with red sheets. A fucking king.  Anderson was used to sleeping on a cot, these rich people and their bullshit commodities. It was nuts. 

He refers to him as Knight, but really this guy feels different. He’s not the kid he had gotten to know during their time here. But he’s also not the Arkham Knight, he doesn’t have that anger, that obsession and madness that the Knight had. Right now he’s just a lost little kid doing whatever an adult asked. Which, why was he the one in charge? Like hell should he ever be put in charge of a kid. Actually, why the fuck did these people keep trusting their kids to him?! He’s a merc who took a bit of a sabbatical cause he no longer needs the money, got kicked out of the army, been to prison a few times, fuck is he doing here, with children? And one of them being his own boss?! Anderson was not a trustworthy type in the slightest. Life he lived, how could he be? 

The knight lay down on the bed obediently, as if waiting for something. Instead of whatever it was,  Anderson tucked him in. 

“What? The fuck you doing?” The knight asked, that oh so familiar spark of anger and growl surging forwards. There it was. Better this than an empty shell. Anger he could work with. Emptiness and blind obedience? Nope. Not a clue. 

Anderson snorted and stepped back, arms crossed. “Fuck it look like? Been a long day, boss. Earlier you go to bed, earlier I can fuck off and do my own thing.” He said. 

The knight glared at him, crossing his arms underneath the blanket. It took constant repetition in Anderson’s mind of the fact that this was a dangerous and highly unstable killer not to laugh. 

“Look. You wanna sulk, be my guest. Fact is, some shit went down, I weren’t around for it, so I figured you’d need some rest.” Anderson stated, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

The knight rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Some shit went down, and you fucks did nothing!” He snapped suddenly, grabbing the nearest thing, a lamp, and throwing it at Anderson’s head. 

Anderson ducked, avoiding it easily. Clearly the Knight wasn’t that pissed off, otherwise there would’ve been no avoiding it. He missed on purpose. 

That was the thing that people didn’t realise, the Boss had different moods. They all looked like anger, but they weren’t, anger just happened to be the most prominent. He seemed to be in his emotionally needy mood, the one where he snapped and threw stuff and lashed out because he wanted someone close but didn’t know how to ask for it. Or at least, that’s what Jay did. He didn’t actually know anything much about the Knight. The knight never let anyone get close or see his face, so the fact that Anderson wasn’t currently a corpse meant one part of the Knight wanted him here. 

“Tried to boss, but I ain’t cut out for that hero shit, woulda been a corpse if I went after him. Sides, somebody needed to hold down the fort and make sure nobody did something stupid, and it sure as shit ain’t gonna be one of these chucklefucks.” Anderson said gesturing towards the door with his head. 

The knight shrugged and nodded slightly. Seemed he conceded, Anderson was right after all. Nobody in this manor was exactly trustworthy with, well, any situation that needed a delicate touch. Sides from that butler, he had a good head on his shoulders. The rest? Eh, that was heavily up for debate. Specially considering only two were adults and one was just barely old enough to be an adult that was never around. The other adult definitely should not have any form of responsibility or decision making capabilities. Despite his reputation, Batman was a fucking moron. Not that he would ever say that out loud. Why had he ended up with the dumbest and scariest family on any earth? Oh yeah, cause he followed his scary dumbass boss. 

“Definitely not my place but do you wanna, like, talk about it?” Anderson asked, already wincing in anticipation for the blow that was going to come. Probably a stab wound knowing the Knight. 

Instead, nothing came, the Knight just sighed and turned over, staring at the wall. “Am I doing the right thing? I just want him to be safe but the moron went and got himself kidnapped again. Then some new old kid pops up, a perfect replacement. I mean my goal is to kill Batman, and Joker, but that didn’t go so well last time.” He sat up, locking eyes with Anderson. “I know what I need to do. I need to kill the replacement.” He said with a growl, that oh so familiar determination and madness lurking behind his eyes. 

And, yikes. Anderson was all for violence as a solution, but killing more people didn’t seem to be the answer here. Not that he could ever tell the Knight that. He still didn’t want to be a corpse. 

“Hey, killing Batman didn’t work, but you didn’t really try killing Joker. Like, you haven’t been actively hunting him. So maybe we take care of the clown fucker first, then see if something needs to be done about the replacement? It’s not like he’s been an issue. He’s the one that got you out. Maybe you could team up?” Anderson suggested, internally wincing with every word. Saying literally anything to the Knight normally ended badly. 

There was a very tense moment of silence. Had Anderson just seriously fucked up? 

Instead, the Knight leaned forwards, snatching a tablet off of the side table. “Get the fuck out, Lieutenant, I need to plan.” He snapped at him, that cold voice coming through. 

Anderson did not need to be told twice. He was fucking out of there as fast as he could be. It would be good to know what the boss was planning, but again, he enjoyed being stab free. If boss was going after the replacement, that was the kids problem to deal with. Not his. 

Chapter Text

Snow fell, coating the rooftops. They were slippery, more so than usual, which meant he was moving across the city at a slower rate and being far more careful than he would’ve. Slipping, falling off a rooftop and breaking his neck was not ideal and kind of ruined literally all of his plans. 

He landed on another rooftop, rolling across it. He stopped dead, one knee still on the ground as a figure stood in front of him. The figure turned and looked at him, red helmet gleaming. 

“Oh hey, fancy running into you here. Heard you were in a bad spot, got out then? Always knew you would. I mean, you bat people are always much harder to get rid of than one would expect.” Roy said, standing up and slinging the bow back over his shoulder. 

A gun shimmered under the moonlight as it was aimed at him. 

“Woah man! Chill!” Roy said, throwing his hands up. 

“I am not a bat.” Red hood snapped. 

Roy laughed and rolled his eyes, putting his hands down. Typical Jaybird and his crazy mood swings. “Yeah, sure Jay, whatever you say. It’s not like you’re wearing a bat on your uniform.” He said, gesturing to the red bat splashed across his chest. 

“What- it’s ironic! I’m claiming back the sigil!” Red hood exclaimed, lowering the gun. 

“Suurreee, keep telling yourself that.” Roy said, tucking his hands into his pockets. He forgot how cold winter was in Gotham. He moved over to the roof edge and sat down, dangling his feet over and looking at the neon lights reflecting off of fresh snow below. The whole city was lit up, lights strun everywhere, providing a blindingly beautiful mirage of colours that the dark and bleeding city rarely had. 

“Fine, whatever. How the fuck do you know who I am?” Red hood asked, growling through the mask and standing behind Roy, looming over the red arrow. 

Roy craned his neck back, looking up at the vigilante. “Are you serious? You don’t remember the gun range, the alleyway?” He asked in a confused tone. 

Red Hood started to laugh and took off his helmet. “No. I don’t. Think you have me confused with someone else.” He said, looking very much like Jay. How could he be confused- wait. Where was the brand? 

“Hey, where’s your brand? Did Batman finally pay for plastic surgery?” Roy asked. 

He rocketed forwards, slipping off the rooftop. A line was taught around his stomach, slamming him into the side of the building, the imprint of a boot still in his back. 

“No. I am not the fucking imposter, clone, alternate universe, whatever the fuck that creature is!” Red Hood snapped. 

“Huh? But if you’re not Jay then who are you?” Roy asked, dangling from the line. 

“I’m the red hood! The real Jason Todd!” Jason yelled. 

Ohhh that sorta makes sense. No wonder Jay didn’t remember like, anything. Roy thought it was a result from whatever happened to him, but if he was from a different world, or a clone, then no wonder he didn’t know. 

“Oh, right. Okay. I thought you were dead, then the other you showed up and was weirdly nice to me? Then he sort of demanded I stay with him until he was kidnapped and I thought you were him cause he talked about some red hood thing but clearly you’re not.” Roy explained, trying to gesture but failing due to the rope wrapped around him, still slowly rotating as he spoke. 

Jason, the other one, pinched his nose as he slowly reeled him up. Roy was unceremoniously dumped on the rooftop, the line cut off of him with a dagger far too close to his skin. Unfortunately for this little jaybird, he was used to the others tactics and the other Jay was way better at threatening cause you never knew when it was just a threat and when he would follow through. He’d seen him follow through more than once and, yikes. 

“Fine. Because you two seem so close, tell me about him.” Red Hood said, bending down in front of Roy and casually pulling out a gun. Another subtle threat, which would have worked were he not exposed to Jay’s very unsubtle threats. Threatening to shove a taser cable down someone’s throat then activate the taser was a very scary threat. Especially considering he watched him do it to a guy in crime alley. It… did not look pleasant. 

“Really? A gun? You know, the other one loves guns too. They don’t scare me, cause a gun will hurt then it will stop or be treated. Yeah it might do a lot of damage or just outright kill me, but Jay? Phew, thank god I’ve not been on the recieving end of his threats. Apparently the joker taught him torture and if the clown knows anything, it’s how to hurt people.” Roy ranted, standing up despite Red Hood bristling at the movement. 

“The joker took him as an <em>apprentice?”</em> Red Hood snarled. The white of his domino lenses, which who wears a mask under a mask? Flashed green, a soft glow permeating through them. That was kind of weird. But it was gone quickly so Roy didn’t think too much of it. 

He waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, not like that. Jay didn’t really talk about it but I think his entire teenage years were spent in Jokers hands as his toy or something. I don’t know, anything he said was during a bad time so I didn’t press. And he kept making weirdly concerning off hand remarks while hurting criminals about how he learned that one from Joker, which was usually paired with a scar. So whatever it was, it probably wasn’t good.” Roy said calmly, casually, watching the snow fall from above.

Roy felt the press of a gun to the back of his head. So Jaybird was still jumpy, figures. Roy would probably be super freaked out if he was mistaken for his clone or whatever. Well and that his clone or alternate universe version had basically taken his place and sort of friends. It wasn’t like Roy and Jason were friends before he died, Roy was Dick’s friend. He just knew him a bit, met him a few times very quickly and right before missions, so it wasn’t like they had the chance to be friendly. Now he was friends with someone else that wasn’t Jason but was. He could already see the similarities. 

His Jay was just as jumpy and untrusting as this one. Paranoid too. But what bat wasn’t paranoid? 

Apparently this Jason wasn’t paranoid enough. 

The metal jammed into his skull, leaving his vision white very momentarily, before the pressure was gone. A heavy impact sounded right next to him. Roy’s vision came back, and he could see the Arkham Knight straddling the Red Hood, wrists pinned to the ground. 

The Red Hood bucked and tried to slip an arm loose, turning and actually dislocating his shoulder. Roy winced as it came free from the socket, allowing Red Hood enough room to headbutt the knight. 

The screen cracked on the helmet, image fritzing with glitches along the face and eyes. The Knight let go of Red Hood’s wrists and reached for his hip, grabbing Red Hood’s own gun and pressing it against his neck in one swift movement. 

“Get away from Red Arrow or I give you a rooftop tracheotomy.” The Knight threatened, voice robotic and synthesised as he growled the words out. 

Red Hood started laughing, spitting blood onto the rooftop. Blood was leaking from his nose, the bone offset. Some of that blood was pooling in his mouth, staining his teeth red. “Yeah? Why do you care? Hasn’t the sidekick outlived it’s usefulness yet?” He asked in a cutting tone. 

Is that really all he was seen as? A sidekick and a tool that was broken and couldn’t be used? No wonder he wasn’t friends with this Jason, he was kind of an asshole. This Jason was a sidekick too, surely he would know what it feels like to never live up to the so called original, to be constantly compared and deemed to be less than satisfactory.

“Red Arrow was his friend. He cared about him, and you touch anything he cares about? You fuck with me. You’re lucky I haven’t put you down yet, replacement.” The Knight snarled. 

Roy had no idea what he meant by ‘him’ but it was a sweet sentiment. He really did care about him and his well being, even if it didn’t always seem like it. He would hug the Knight if he knew it wouldn’t get his kneecaps shot off. Or a car battery attached to his nutsack. 

Red Hood started laughing. “Oh I’m the replacement?! What about you, you’re not even from this world, you’re not real!” He shouted. 

Roy knew that was exactly the wrong thing to say. His Jaybird had a loose grip on reality to begin with. Telling him he wasn’t real would only make things worse, he would probably snap and either try to prove it wasn’t real, or believe it and do something stupid because consequences didn’t apply to the imaginary. 

He had to do something. Before either one of them, or both, died. He didn’t want Batman blaming him. (He always didn’t want their deaths on his conscience.) 

“Woah. Stop. First of all Jay, you absolutely are real. Second of all, I love that you care, that’s really sweet. But I can defend myself. And fourth of all, do you really need to fight? Nobody is replacing anyone. I mean I’m sure Bats and the others would want both of you under his roof. He’s been weirdly protective of both of you ever since either one first appeared.” Roy interjected. 

Red Hood stared at him. “Fourth? Where did third go?” He asked then shook his head. “Whatever. You just stay out of my way. Go back to your own world or whatever the fuck, you’re not wanted here.” 

“We fucking can’t! There is no way home for us! Home is where Batman is dead, Nightwing is an addict, and Robin keeps trying to kill us!” The Knight snapped. 

Roy.. did not know that. Well, he didn’t even know the Knight was from a different world, but all of it sounded pretty bad. No wonder the Knight was the way he was, it sounded like he had a pretty bad life. And Roy was sure he had the tiniest pieces of the very large puzzle. Arkham Knight never spoke about himself and there was probably a very good reason for it. Especially given the little information he had given out. All information that was deeply concerning. 

“You’re lucky you’re not dead yet! Only reason is cause joker is the priority with putting someone in the ground. You don’t matter. Yet. You’re nothing. Look how easily I won against you.” The Knight taunted, cocking the hammer back on the gun. 

“You want to kill Joker?” Red hood asked. He sounded inquistive, interested. Like he wanted that idea more than anything, to the point that he might consider not killing the replacement. 

“Hold on. Isn’t he already dead? I thought a building dropped on him in the sewers or something.” Roy interjected again. 

“No.” They both snapped at him. 

“This is the joker we’re talking about. Sure nobody has seen him, but I won’t believe anything until I see his corpse. He survives the most unsurvivable shit.” Red Hood said with a snort.  

The Knight tilted his head slightly as if conceeding the point. Which considering literally everything that happens in Gotham, Roy sort of agreed. How anyone, including the villains, survived was actually a miracle. Whatever gothamites were made from should be studied. Maybe they could make an immortality pill from it. 

“Well then why don’t you team up? We can all track him down! A true trio for the legends!” Roy said. 

The two vigilantes looked at him. The Knight slowly backed off, handing the gun back to the Red Hood. 

“Not a team up. But I still owe you for saving us, so a truce. I won’t put you in the motherfucking ground until after joker is dead.” Arkham Knight said when Red Hood took hold of the gun. 

Red Hood snorted, lifting his helmet up from where it had lay discarded on the snow covered rooftop. “I’d like to see you try. You know shit all about me, how the fuck you think you’re gonna win?” He taunted the Knight. 

Roy kind of did want to see who would win but he also absolutely did not because it would end with someone being buried. And then Batman would probably blame him and everything would go incredibly wrong and he would need to go on the run again and have no friends that cared or supported him. 

Also for the record, his bets were on the knight. The red hood seemed to have a moral code and some sanity. The knight had neither of those, he would do whatever it took to take his opponent down. He once watched Jay keep fighting despite his ankle being completely shattered. He just kept going and did not stop. Even the guy they were going against was impressed and very scared. Which was valid. After all, what could you do against a guy who didn’t even flinch at a broken ankle? As formidable as the bats were, they all at least faltered when a bone broke. They didn’t give up, but they didn’t just act like it was nothing. Plus AK was his friend, he had an obligation to be on his side. You don’t bet against your bestie. 

“I’ll win because that’s what I do.” The Knight snarled, reaching for his weapon. 

Both of them had guns pointed at each other in the blink of an eye. 

Roy stepped in between, hands out. “Woah! Let’s not do this! Not when one of you will end up dead and then neither of you will find joker and he gets what he wants. You don’t want to just give that to him for free do you?” He asked them. It was a dirty and poorly thought out tactic, a manipulation a baby could see through. It worked though. 

They both lowered their weapons, tucking them away. “Fine. I won’t kill you. Right now.” Red Hood said. 

The knight was silent, but put the weapon away anyway. 

Roy breathed a sigh of relief. And then a second one when the Knight jumped off the rooftop. Wait, was he here just for Roy? That was actually kind of sweet. Also slightly concerning because how did he know? Was he watching him? 

Oh right. He was a bat. Of course he was watching him. Duh. 

Roy looked at the red hood and reached into his pocket. “Hey so listen. I was here because Dick gave me something from the butler and said it was for Jason. I assumed he meant my Jay but now I think it’s for you? Anyway. This is for you I guess. Thanks for not killing me? And sorry I thought you were your alternative universe version. Bye!” Roy said and pressed a crumpled envelope into Jason’s hand. 

He drew his bow back and took off into the night, going to join the Knight’s patrol. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. 

 ——-

Dear Master Jason, 

I have been informed that you will not be coming home for an undetermined amount of time. While saddened by the news, I understand and respect that decision. I am writing to you to request that you suspend that for one evening. Next Wednesday I will be putting together a family meal and wish to have all the family there. 

I do hope you will find the time to attend. 

Alfred Pennyworth. 

Jason swore when he read the letter. He let it fall onto the bed with stained covers and duct tape over the mattress where springs had started to poke out. The walls of his apartment were riddled with bullet holes and the floor littered in needles he had to sweep aside whenever he entered. He should dispose of those, but he wouldn’t be here long. He lay back on the bed, loose spring stabbing into his back. He ran his hands down his face, swearing again. 

He wanted nothing more than to not face the family that had abandoned him, let him die, and refused to avenge or save him. That had replaced him with a far inferior copy that could barely function. The copy was completely insane, did no one see that? He thought he was crazy but my god was the Knight a whole new level of crazy. Talking about himself in third person? It was fucking weird. 

But the issue here was it was Alfred asking. He couldn’t disappoint his second mom. Fuck, the clone would probably be there too. It was settled. He wouldn’t go. Fuck that noise, disappointing Alfred was better than having to deal with Bruce and literally everyone else. 

Chapter Text

A week later Jason stood in front of the manor door, holding the letter tightly. He had almost torn it in two at the gate, and that hadn’t changed on the very long journey up. Pacing back and forth slightly, he tried to calm himself down, breathing deeply. He was here, he couldn’t undo it now. He would say hi to Alfred then leave. That was all. Nothing more. He wasn’t actually here for the family meal, he was just here to avoid thinking about Alfred’s disappointed face when he didn’t turn up. That was it. This was all just for Alfred and no one else.

The door opened, Alfred greeting him. 

“Ah Master Jason, do come in.” Alfred said, standing back to let him in. 

“Thanks Alf, but I won’t be here long. Just came to say hi and then I’m gonna dip.” Jason said, hands in his pockets as he peered around the door, still lingering outside. He expected to get ambushed at any second. Family meal meant the more needy members of the family would probably be here too. 

“I see. It was still good to see you, my boy. Wait here while I fetch something.” Alfred said, leaving the door partially open. 

Jason scuffed his toes against the mat outside, staring down at his feet. He shuffled from foot to foot, before sighing and stepping inside. If this wasn’t Alfred, he would say it was definitely planned. Some bullshit manipulation tactic from Bruce to get him inside. A tactic that worked. He kind of did want to see it, see if anything changed inside of the stupid manor. (And maybe see if they remembered him.) 

It was strange. It had barely changed at all, and yet had changed beyond recognition. The art pieces in the hall, the tiles, the chandelier, all of it was the same. But the scratch marks across the floors, the little framed drawings on the walls, the green paint, shoes left haphazardly, all of it wasn’t there before. When Jason was last here the manor felt empty. Now it seemed like people really were living here, rather than just existing in a space far too big for them. 

It was still way too big, but now it felt a lot less like a set from a movie, and more like a real home. A real home that he wasn’t a part of. 

“Todd! Close the door before Alfred escapes!” A tiny child barked at him. Jason was sure this was the new Robin, what was his name? Dean or something? Whatever, it wasn’t like he cared. Also, Alfred? What? 

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Jason said with a sneer. 

The kid stared at him, then narrowed his eyes, reaching for a- holy shit, was that a sword?! 

“You are not Todd. Who are you, imposter?” The kid, Dante, demanded, drawing the blade on him. 

It took barely a second to disarm the kid and throw the sword away. The kid was shockingly good, for his age, but Jason was better. Had trained with better. 

“I am Jason Todd. The imposter is the one that’s been living in your home for the last however long.” Jason snapped. 

The kid was reaching for a second weapon when Alfred intervened. 

“Master Damian.” Was all it took from the butler before the kid (begrudgingly) backed off. 

Damian! Right, that was the little brats name. But of course Alfred could fix this situation, Alfred could fix everything. 

“But Pennyworth! He’s a villainous shapeshifter and must be vanquished!” Damian protested, pointing at Jason. 

Which, didn’t anyone teach him pointing was rude? Probably not considering how fucking weirdly confrontational this kid was. Doubt he was taught anything socially useful. 

The eyeroll Jason gave did absolutely nothing to calm the kid down. In fact, it had him reaching for yet another weapon. 

As the kid launched himself at Jason, he was suddenly plucked out of the air and dumped on the ground unceremoniously by one Bruce Motherfucking Wayne. 

Jason crossed his arms and actually growled at Bruce. He could feel the green creeping in, tinging the edges of his vision. Fucker. Who did he think he was, charging in as the hero for a situation he could’ve handled himself and letting him choke to death on his own blood while doing nothing to rectify that situation? 

“Father! I demand to know who this is!” Damian screeched, pointing at Jason once again. 

“Jaylad.” Bruce whispered, voice full of such longing and emotion it… It didn’t seem right. Bruce didn’t do emotions. That just wasn’t his thing and why would he long for someone he didn’t even miss? It didn’t make any sense.

Jason turned around, reaching for the door again. 

“Whatever. I don’t have to explain myself to some random brat, or you. You’re not my dad.” Jason snapped. 

“Wait.” Bruce said, resting a hand on his shoulder. Jason slapped it away, whirling back on him, about to say something. “Jaylad, I would like it if you stayed. Just for one night. Meet the others. Please?” Bruce cut in. “And I’m sorry. For everything.” He said far quieter, just for Jason to hear. 

Fuck. What was he meant to do now? 

“Fine. One dinner. I’m not staying the night, and I’m only here to keep the peace for Alfred. He asked, not you.” Jason said coldly, turning away from the door and shoving his dad with his shoulder. 

He stepped into the main room and was greeted with utter chaos. 

——

A board game was strewn across the floor. Dick was protesting and whining as Tim was sitting there seemingly very smug. Duke was secretly stuffing brussel sprouts in Dick’s pockets as he protested. Steph was there helping him out as Cass was seemingly the lookout. 

Damian had appeared out of nowhere and practically screeched as he saw the outcome of the game. Immediately Damian launched himself at Tim, the two of them wrestling on the ground. 

Dick pivoted from whining to trying to descelate, and failing miserably. Duke and Steph hadn’t stopped their quest necessarily, but instead of stuffing them down, they started pelting the kids on the ground. 

“What the fuck is this?!” Jason asked as he walked in. 

Immediately everyone stopped and looked at him. Tim flinched away, letting go of Damian and retreating back. 

“Uh sorry Ak. Didn’t meant to- hold on. You’re not him. Oh my god, you’re the original Jason Todd!” Tim said. 

Everyone else, including Jason, stared at him. 

“What do you mean by original?” Dick finally asked. 

“Isn’t it obvious? AK was like a completely different person and he didn’t know anything about our lives. Plus Bruce had files on alternate universes and world travel on the bat computer, and his Wayne tech one. He wouldn’t have something on both if it wasn’t a problem.” Tim stated very matter of factly, as if it was obvious. 

“Uh I had a building dropped on my fucking head and died? That tends to mess someone up enough to be a bit different.” Jason said with a scoff, the adults in the room admonishing him for their language. As if they didn’t punch people half to death every night.

“Yes but even brain damage doesn’t implant completely different memories in your head. AK spoke of things that have never happened. He had never heard of people that had been around for years, people you met.” Tim said, gesturing to Jason. 

God this kid was good, he really should have given him more credit. He could be far more formidable a foe than the bat. Maybe he should change his target. 

AK paused on the stairs, listening to the whole scene. There was a lot of people, and the other one was here. That would most definitely be a huge problem, maybe he should go back to his room. Not go down at all. Instead go hunting for the joker or something tonight. Not that he had made any headway in that department.

“Hey boss? If it’s too much for you we can just go back up. I’ll go grab ya some food. I notice you ain’t been eating shit lately, you gotta eat more.” Anderson said. 

AK turned and looked at him with a cold and stern expression. He was wearing his armour, he never went anywhere without it. The helmet he had agreed to forgo for just one day, but the rest? Non negotiable. It stayed no matter what. He would sleep in it if it didn’t cause more damage to his already fractured body doing that. Jay didn’t deserve to have a body that couldn’t function. Even if they were almost there anyway. 

Anderson just shrugged, seemingly unaffected. Damn. He had lost his touch. Maybe he should start killing people for minor misdemeanours again. 

“No. I said I would be here, so I’m here. I do not back down from anything.” The knight said with a growl, marching down the stairs. 

As he reached the bottom, people turned and stared. Then looked back at the placeholder, and the chaos kicked back up again. 

Dick was yelling at Bruce, Bruce was failing to defend himself, Tim was proudly declaring he was right, Damian was trying to shut him up, the others were attempting to sneak away, and Jason just kept staring at him. 

“Why the fuck are you wearing your suit indoors? Didn’t you hear about the house rules?” Jason said. 

Everything ground to a halt, it was just AK and Jason locked in some kind of unseen battle. 

“That’s because you all wear costumes. I don’t wear a costume. This is a suit for our protection. I never take it off. That was Jay’s first mistake. You are never safe. Never.” AK stated, adjusting his shin plate. 

“…What?” Jason said after a while, just continuously staring at AK. 

AK didn’t understand, what was to be confused about? He gave very good advice that should be listened to. What didn’t Red Hood get about that? 

“You are not safe either, you know. I got you a Christmas gift.” AK said, handing Jason an envelope. In it was a map of all the rumoured locations joker might be hiding. Dozens of them were already marked as clear, but there were five that were undetermined and one marked as highly likely. 

Highly likely because it was an old theatre. And, well, in AK’s world it was used for a joker containment base. It was too odd a coincidence to simply overlook and not take seriously. 

Jason swore, staring at the map. “I uh… I forgot it was Christmas. It just hadn’t occurred to me. So yeah, I’ve got nothing for anyone.” He explained, not looking up. 

Christmas was a joke anyway. They could have everything they ever wanted thanks to Bruce Wayne’s oversized wallet. 

“We didn’t know you existed so we didn’t really get you anything either.” Duke said, rubbing the nape of his neck and not looking at Jason. 

“Whatever bullshit things the blue bird got me, you can have them.” AK stated, chucking a box the Dick. It was completely unwrapped and in a cardboard box. 

Dick immediately tore through the tape, then pulled out a mask, holding it up. “What is this?” He asked. 

“Now that everyone knows we’re not from here, that’s the mask I ripped off the face of Nightwing in my world. You can wear it if you want. I don’t care. Apparently you’re meant to get gifts at Christmas so merry Christmas or whatever the fuck.” AK said, crossing his arms. Armour clinked and scraped together as it bounced off each other. 

“Oh. Uh, thanks Jay!” Dick said, smiling without it reaching his eyes as he held the mask at a distance from him. 

“It’s Ak. Not Jay.” AK said with a growl, reaching for the weapon on his hip. He had told him so many times. Jay is gone. It’s just him. Why did no one understand that? 

Dick backed up and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry AK!” He apologised. 

AK could feel the spare’s eyes boring into him. What was his problem? He got what he wanted for Christmas. Isn’t that what people do? 

That’s when Alfred stepped in. 

“Dinner is ready if you’d like to make your way to the dining room.” The butler interrupted. 

AK considered skipping out, but one look from Anderson had him reluctantly following the rest. Albeit at a much more subdued pace.

Chapter Text

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Tim didn’t know what to make of it or what to say. He wasn’t blind, or stupid. Like apparently everyone else was? AK and Jay had very particular tastes and they were not the same. At all. AK avoided any bright colours, he despised the colours green and purple. Jay didn’t seem to care much. Jay seemed to like green but everyone said red was his favourite. Well. It wasn’t like Tim actually knew him. And him being from a different universe? Well glossing over the fact that dimension travel was real- holy fuck that was so cool, he can’t believes his sort of maybe a brother is basically an alien but from a different dimension rather than someone like Kon who was just a regular alien. 

Okay so maybe he wouldn’t gloss over the dimension travel thing. That was just way too cool and had so many unknown implications and possible problems. Anderson had confirmed he was from the same universe but his counterpart was long gone. Which explained the stuff Tim found. What? He’s a bat, of course he’s going to look up the employee of the not crime boss that suddenly appeared and would be living with them because the not a crime boss was too unstable not to have him around. Really, anyone would look up every single record they could their grubby little hands on, right? Tim wasn’t weird, it was just common sense. (He wasn’t sure he had any of that though.) 

Dick was laughing and saying they should pull Christmas crackers, like Alfred always said they should. It was tradition apparently. Tim had never heard of that tradition before, but he looked around the table, searching people’s faces. They were either laughing with Dick or completely silent. By either he meant literally just Duke, Barbara, Stephanie, and Anderson. Stephanie never missed out an excuse for a free meal and Barbara was family. That’s part of why it was so awkward. Tim noticed AK had refused to talk to or even look at her the whole time. He also clearly hadn’t eaten anything. No one else seemed to notice, and if they did, they were keeping silent like Tim was. 

Oh sure Tim was great at acting like it was no big deal. Like nothing was ever a big deal. Like he didn’t care at all when Jay- or was that AK?- tried to strangle him. But he still felt phantom pressure on his neck whenever those cold dead eyes met his. It was fine, really, AK needed far more help than Tim did and he wasn’t going to complain or take that away from him. But he also felt like he was going insane because he seemed to be the only one that saw how weird AK was. Anderson came in and charmed everyone, and everyone’s heart broke when they saw what a wreck AK was. What they thought Jay was. His heart broke too, didn’t mean he couldn’t be weirded out though. He was allowed to be creeped out by the not a crime lord who liked to sit in combat gear at his table, right? Surely everyone saw how incredibly bizarre it was having this guy in fucking combat gear sitting at a dining room table. 

Tim reached over the table and snatched the cracker away from Dick when he went to pull it. “Nope. Let’s not do that this year.” He said. 

Dick pouted and threw his hands up. “Come on! Why not?! We do this every year! It’s tradition!” He cried. 

Tim saw the way AK was eyeing the green and purple Christmas crackers. He knew AK had multiple hidden weapons, and a hand was on one right now. AK had given Dick a mask he tore off his alternate versions face, the dude was not present or in touch with reality right now. He felt like he was going insane. Why did no one else see that? 

“How about we don’t do that this year. You know, loud noise, bright colours, not really in the mood for that.” Tim stated flatly. He prayed to the god he didn’t really believe in anymore that Dick got what he was getting at. Tim didn’t want to be strangled again. That tended to ruin dinner. 

Apparently, Dick did not get it. “How else am I supposed to get my holiday photo of everyone in paper hats?!” Dick lamented. 

“You already have a photo of whoever you could bully into wearing reindeer antlers, why do we need a paper crown too?” Duke cut in, backing up Tim. So Tim wasn’t going insane, that’s nice to know. Someone else clearly spotted it too. He did notice Duke seemed to be a little wary of AK. Tim hadn’t really paid attention to the why. Or the fact that Duke sat as far away from him as possible, same as Tim had. 

Dick crossed his arms and slumped back into the chair. “Fine.” He mumbled, pouting. 

“Besides, master Dick, the crackers are meant to be pulled before the meal has even begun. It is time for pudding now. That is not the time for crackers.” Alfred cut in, bringing out dessert. 

The Yule log, dusted in icing sugar with sugar leaves looked so good. For once, Tim wasn’t absolutely stuffed so he could enjoy it. Just this once though, he’d probably eat way too much next year. It’s just, how could he eat when AK seemed to be staring at him the whole time? It certainly killed his appetite. 

Not enough to reject the cake though. Immediately he was tucking in. He glanced up as he heard a hum. AK was eating some. Very tentatively, and clearly after checking for poison, but he seemed to enjoy it. 

Good. So there wasn’t something completely wrong with him. Only a true monster would hate chocolate cake. 

—————

Batman was not supposed to be patrolling. Alfred would have his hide for this. But Bruce was out for a reason, as Batman, so why shouldn’t he kill two birds with one stone and patrol just a little? It would only be for an hour or two, he had promised himself. (He knew he was lying to himself) 

Something dropped behind him, heavy and clunking. A person. He already knew who it was. 

“You know, there are better ways of getting my attention. I mean really, beating up my men to deliver a message? What are you, the godfather?” Jason said with a drawl. 

Batman turned to the red hood, a smile tugging at his lips. Smiling would piss Jason off, he had to be careful here. But he wanted to see his other son tonight, was that so wrong of him? 

“I have a gift for you.” Bruce said and pulled out a file, holding it out. 

Jason was surely eyeing him sceptically behind the hood, but took the file anyway, after a beat of hesitation. 

“What’s this? Case work? Really? Why you getting me a gift anyway?” Jason asked with a sarcastic drawl, opening the file. 

“Merry Christmas Jaylad. We missed you at dinner. You’re welcome home any time.” Bruce said, firing his grapple to leave Jason with the file. He figured he would want some privacy. 

He had been putting it together for a long time, ever since he learned Jason was alive. There were actually two sections of the file. The first was footage and reports from shortly after Jason’s… encounter with the joker. It still hurt to think about, but it showed proof superman stopped him from killing Joker. Bruce had wanted to, he really did. He also had Tim put together the statistics he had noticed when he first showed up to try and save Batman. The statistics that Bruce was not dealing with the death, and Bruce had asked his therapist for some notes. It was a very reluctant agreement, but, this wasn’t breaking client confidentially because he had asked for it. His therapist knew how badly he missed his boy, he just wanted his jaylad to know that too. 

The second part of the file was something Bruce Wayne had started putting together. A public statement and records with lawyers and a PR team to announce Jason’s survival and hopeful return to the family. But also, a statement on Jay/AK. Their story was AK had been kidnapped by Joker because he was Jason’s long lost twin. With a mother on drugs and a father that died in prison, it was shockingly easy to fake the birth records and get a convincing story of a child taken by protection services and lost in the system. Joker believed AK was Bruce’s adopted son Jason, and because everyone knew Bruce was connected to Batman in some loose way, he tortured the kid for a while before learning the truth. He threw him out and Anderson found him, Bruce eventually finding AK and Anderson and wanting to officially help AK out and potentially bring him in as an unofficial member of the family. After all, AK was unfortunately too old to adopt or foster. But he wasn’t too old to love. 

Of course, he had written on every page that this statement would not be released until both Jason and AK had signed multiple forms of permission. He didn’t want either of them to feel pressured into anything. And, with the way AK was coping, Bruce hadn’t brought it up. Jason could absolutely handle this, and either tell Bruce to fuck off or accept it. AK, he got violent when anyone even whispered the word Joker, or Batman. He wasn’t ready to hear about this. 

There had been rumours flying about for years that Bruce was either funding or dating Batman. No one had guessed he actually was Batman, but why not lean into the rumours? Or at least, utilise the rumours. Plus if Joker said all this was fake, who would believe a deranged clown over a respected philanthropist with multiple documents backing him up? 

It was the least he could do for his two boys. Let them know he wanted them. Even if he couldn’t say it to their faces.