Chapter Text
Jason could very easily pinpoint the exact moment Batman ruined all his carefully laid plans. It had been roughly one month ago, and it had been done with no knowledge of said plans, no effort on Batman’s part, and not a single consideration to Jason’s existence. And yes, Batman didn’t know that Jason was alive and existing, he barely knew about the Red Hood’s existence, but Jason reserved the right to be mad about it anyway. Because fuck Batman.
The moment Batman ruined everything had been about six months into Jason’s return to Gotham. The Red Hood was well established as the crime lord who had taken over Crime Alley, but he hadn’t yet started antagonising the bats. No, he’d been staying firmly off their radar, waiting for the right moment to start drawing their attention. One month ago, that moment had been approaching, so when he’d seen Batman and Nightwing on the edges of his territory, Jason had considered confronting them. He’d watched them without their knowledge, tuned into their comm channel and listening to their chatter, considering whether to drop in on them or shoot at them from a distance.
The first sign that Batman was going to fuck up all Jason’s plans was the comms going wonky. The next sign was all the tech in Jason’s helmet starting to fritz. The real kicker had been the blinding flash of light that had engulfed Batman and Nightwing. When Jason got his bearings again, they were both gone and all his tech was offline. Those plan-ruining assholes.
Of course, Jason hadn’t initially realised his plans were ruined. He’d stayed there on that roof, watching the area, waiting for the two vigilantes to reappear. Then he’d approached the area where he’d last seen them. He’d been cautious. He wasn’t an idiot. It could have very easily been a trick. Only it hadn’t been, because Batman and Nightwing weren’t anywhere in the area. Jason had checked. He had checked thoroughly. They really were gone.
So Jason had left, thinking they’d turn up at some point. About an hour later Jason’s helmet came back online and he didn’t think about it for the rest of patrol, even as he heard Oracle and the shiny new Robin worrying over comms. Batman would turn up again. He always did.
Except that he didn’t. It had been a month and Batman had not turned up again. Neither had Nightwing. Jason couldn’t do his plan to get revenge against Batman when there was no Batman. Hence, Batman ruining his plans. Asshole.
It got worse though, because while Batman and Nightwing were MIA, Robin was trying to cover Gotham by himself. Clearly the new kid was an idiot for thinking he could. Jason had needed to save his life no less than four times in the month that Batman had been gone. He hated the kid, cursed his very existence, but he needed Robin to be alive for the plan. If Robin died when Batman was gone then what was even the point? Robin couldn’t die until Batman came back, so it had fallen to Red Hood to keep an ear on the comms and pop up to snipe some people when Robin was in over his head. The kid really liked getting in over his head now that Batman and Nightwing were gone. There were no self-preservation instincts to be found under that Robin uniform, no siree. It was fucking annoying.
Which brought Jason to tonight, when Oracle had announced over the comm channel that Robin was in trouble. Again. Except this time she had sounded desperate. This time she had followed up by saying, “Red Hood, I know you’re listening. I know you protect kids. I know you’ve been helping Robin.”
Which… Shit. Jason had hoped Oracle and Robin hadn’t noticed his interference. He’d been trying to help from a distance and not be seen. The fact that Oracle had noticed would have been another wrench in his future plans… Or, maybe not. Maybe it would have been even better when Batman returned and Red Hood finally went after Robin. It would have been even more of a shock.
Then Oracle had continued with, “The Joker has Robin.”
Everything after that was a blur. Jason couldn’t tell you what had happened; one moment he was standing on a rooftop listening to Oracle and the next he was in a warehouse with the Joker’s body and an injured little bird.
The Joker was dead. Jason had killed him— shot him six times in the head and chest.
That was when Jason knew with complete certainty that all his plans were fucking ruined. Batman had ruined everything without lifting a fucking finger. That motherfucker.
The worst part was, Jason didn’t even care anymore. Jason was too relieved to care, because the Joker was dead.
The Joker was dead.
The Joker was dead.
The Joker was dead.
It felt so good, and Jason was an idiot. He was an idiot. This should have been the plan from the start. Who gave a fuck about Batman when the man couldn’t even be bothered to show up? Not when Jason had needed him, not when Jason was being beaten to death or clawing his way out of his grave, and not now when history was repeating itself with the newest bird. Who gave a fuck about Batman? Making sure the Joker died should have been the priority from the start. This should always have been the plan. Because now that the Joker was dead, Jason felt content. The most content he’d felt since he’d been murdered.
The Joker would never hurt him again. He would never hurt anyone again.
This should have been the plan all along.
A grunt from the little bird broke Jason from his realisation. Yep, shit, he’d forgotten about his replacement for a minute there. Looking back at the kid, tied to a chair and a little beat up, Jason couldn’t really muster up the anger he’d been carrying around for months. The bird was trying to wiggle free of the ropes, hence the occasional grunt of effort. It looked as though Jason had arrived before the Joker could do any serious damage.
It was strange to be acting out what he’d thought was one of his most unattainable fantasies: someone charging in to save Robin from the Joker. Only in all his fantasies, he’d been the Robin, not the person charging in. He was acting out his fantasies while cast in the wrong role.
“You’re alright, kid,” Jason assured Robin, crouching to untie him. He wasn’t really thinking about his words or who he was speaking to. His mind had just slotted, almost absentmindedly, into comforting a victim. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Jason didn’t stick around once Robin was free. The kid could make his own way home. He didn’t even have any broken bones, and he was not Jason’s responsibility. Jason didn’t want to help the kid along or answer his questions or deal with clean up. Jason had better things to do.
…He couldn’t put his finger on what those things were right now, but those things probably existed.
The Joker was dead. Jason’s plans were ruined. Jason was happy about it.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Fuck Batman.
Three days later, Red Hood patrolled through Crime Alley, waiting for someone to need him. Remnants of the city-wide Joker-is-dead celebration could still be seen in the streets, and Jason felt a strange sense of peace every time he saw the stray confetti or dead-Joker themed graffiti.
But Jason also felt… lost. He’d never felt like this before— never felt so unmoored and without purpose. When he was a child, his purpose had been keeping himself and his mum alive. Then it had been keeping himself alive. Then he’d been Robin. Then he’d been dead. Then he’d been driven by revenge.
Now, all his plans and goals seemed blurry and broken.
The Joker was dead, and Batman was missing. Nightwing too. Robin was still around, but Robin wasn’t supposed to be the focus of anger. Robin was an extension of Batman. People went after Robin to get at Batman. There was no point being angry at Robin without Batman. Without Batman, Robin was just a kid in a stupid outfit.
Not that there weren’t still other people to be angry at. Jason still had his secondary goals. He still wanted to clean up Crime Alley and protect his people. Jason could still be angry at the child traffickers and abusers and rapists who preyed on the people of Crime Alley, but that anger was broad and general. He had no one left to focus his anger on.
Black Mask, maybe? But antagonising Black Mask had always just been a step in his plan to get Batman to choose. He’d needed Batman to decide what was more important: keeping the Joker alive, or making sure there would be no more victims like Jason. He’d needed the Joker out of Arkham for the final confrontation and he’d wanted Black Mask to do the dirty work. That was all.
To Black Mask, the Red Hood was a sworn enemy.
To Red Hood, Black Mask was a means to an end. A footnote. Not important.
No one seemed important anymore. Any anger Jason tried to gather towards someone slipped away before it could sharpen into intentions.
Jason considered calling Talia. The woman wasn’t good with feelings, but she would listen and nudge him towards whatever she thought was best. What she thought was best wouldn’t necessarily be in Jason’s best interest, but at least it would give him some ideas. He didn’t call Talia though. He didn’t want to admit to her that all his plans had fallen apart. He didn’t want to admit that she’d been right about just killing the Joker. That he should have taken her up on her offer to do it for him. Talia was too reserved to say ‘I told you so’, but the sentiment would be there.
A thump behind Jason alerted him to another presence on the rooftop. The movements were well telegraphed as the person approached him, clearly not intending to catch him by surprise. Jason didn’t need to look to know it was Robin. He’d noticed the bird five minutes ago, watching from a few rooftops away. The footsteps stopped nearby, but Jason still didn’t turn. Whatever this was, Jason wasn’t going to encourage it.
“We need your help,” Robin said to the back of Jason’s helmet.
“By my count, you’re the one who owes me some favours, Baby Bird. Not the other way around.”
“I know,” Robin admitted, which was surprising enough to make Jason turn and face him.
Little birds weren’t supposed to admit to owing murderous crime lords favours. Jason tilted his head at him.
“This isn’t about me,” Robin continued. “It’s about Gotham.”
His words sounded rehearsed, and Jason couldn’t help but be intrigued.
“How so?” he indulged.
“Gotham needs Batman,” Robin said.
Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet so hard that he’d be surprised if the kid didn’t feel it on a spiritual level.
“Sure, kid,” he grunted, appreciating that the sarcasm came through despite his voice modulator.
“No, it’s true,” Robin insisted.
Then the kid dead-ass pulled out a tablet from behind his back to show Red Hood the screen. It was a powerpoint. The kid, honest to God, was showing him a powerpoint.
“The crime statistics are clear,” Robin said as he showed Red Hood a series of graphs. “Organised crime went down thirty percent after the appearance of Batman. Violent crime went down ten percent, even after you factor in the rogues. Unsolved crime went down forty percent. Every time Batman is absent for more than a month, violent and petty crime increases by two percent for every month he’s gone.”
Jason was amused, despite himself, but all he could really bring himself to say was, “What the fuck?”
The kid valiantly carried on with his presentation. “Gotham needs Robin too. Without Robin, Batman is twenty eight percent more likely to be injured. Trust in Batman also increased by fifty two percent after the introduction of Robin. When Robin is absent for long stretches of time, the debilitating injuries caused by Batman increase.”
“O…kay?”
“The Red Hood has been good for Gotham,” Robin continued. “Crime in Park Row decreased by sixty one percent almost as soon as you showed up, and that’s even taking into account all the crime you commit. Drug overdoses have decreased by twenty two percent in adults and seventy nine percent in minors. Homeless minors are ninety two percent less likely to—”
“Kid,” Jason interrupted. “Enough statistics. What the hell is this about?”
Robin slowly lowered the tablet with his powerpoint presentation and looked up at Red Hood.
“You care about Gotham,” Robin summarised. “Gotham needs Batman. Batman is missing and so is Nightwing. We need you to fill in for Batman.”
“You want me to cover Batman’s patrols?” Jason clarified.
“No,” Robin said. “I want you to be Batman.”
Jason bluescreened.