Chapter Text
Jason woke slowly, unrushed. Sunlight streamed across his face. Everything was so cozy and warm and safe… Where were they?
Soft snuffling alerted him to the bundle of boy tucked snugly under his chin. Jason smiled sleepily, squeezing his little brother tight, and breathed. The sunlight was colored a soft orange, which meant late afternoon. (Wait… sunlight? In winter? In Gotham?)
Damian cracked a huuuuuuuuuuuuuuge yawn, and Jason stroked his messy hair, soothed. He felt like there was something… important… but he couldn’t think of it right now. The city buzzed away outside, shouts and laughter and passing cars, but here… Here, in their little bubble in a safehouse in the Narrows… there was peace.
“They are celebrating,” Damian mumbled sleepily.
Jason twirled a soft curl of hair around his fingers. “Celebrating? In the Narrows? The sun’s out, too. Hell must’ve finally frozen over.”
“Rumors must have spread by now…” Damian yawned again. “… of the creature’s death. You slept well.”
“Yeah?” Jason felt himself mumble, and then the memories slammed back into his brain. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath. Arkham and Hood and Joker and Damian and fearfearfear--- “Shit.”
“Akhi? Please don’t cry, Akhi. Are you upset with me?”
Jason buried his face in Damian’s hair, choking. Disbelief roared much louder than relief. “Did that really… Is he really…”
“Yes, the creature is gone.” Damian’s body shivered. “I have killed him for you. Does that not…?”
“THANK you.” Jason switched to Arabic, unable to fathom expressing the overwhelming gratitude any other way. “Thank you thank you THANK you. My baby brother, my treasure, my habibi…”
“It was my honor to avenge you,” Damian murmured over Jason’s babble, soft accented reassurances drifting into Jason’s ear. “To gift to you the blade that ended your nightmare… To spill his lifeblood at your feet…”
Jason swallowed thickly. He was being hysterical about this. “You are afraid.”
“I have killed in defense,” Damian admitted in English, stumbling a little. “but I have never planned vengeance this way. Is it common to feel afraid only afterward?”
Jason laughed sadly. “Yeah… Yes, habibi, it is. I don’t think I want you killing. You’re too young.” You’re too precious for the burden of taking human life.
“I do not regret it,” Damian protested instantly, propping himself up on Jason’s chest with fury in his deep green eyes. “I--- I would kill that monster a thousand times for you, my protector, my brother, my light---”
“Okay.” Jason pulled Damian down into a hug, rubbing circles into his back, and tried not to laugh. Or cry. Or… both. “I hear you. I… I wish I’d had the courage to do it myself, but I understand… the weight of your actions. I am grateful.”
Damian snuggled close, sniffling defiantly. “You are pleased?”
“Very. Just… don’t do it again. Ever. Especially without backup.”
“Tt. This is reasonable.”
Jason breathed a heavy sigh. He would have to reinforce the whole DON’T GO ON SUICIDE MISSIONS BY YOURSELF life lesson when he was more awake. Challenging fate apparently ran in the family. For right now, though… “Waffles?”
“Waffles.”
This safehouse was pretty barebones, so Jason cleaned them up, put on a pair of sunglasses, and set out into the chilly afternoon air. He stopped at the nearest convenience store to look for baseball caps… and made a face when he realized that most of them were Batman themed. “Great.”
“What are we doing, Akhi?”
“Breakfast, but we’ve gotta avoid extra eyes. After our visitor last night…” Jason glanced down at his brother, suspicious. Damian was studiously avoiding eye contact. “… We just wanna be careful today, that’s all. Pick one out.”
Damian’s hand hovered over a Batman cap. “… Any of them, Akhi?”
Jason managed a grunt. His grumpiness gave way to amusement when Damian stood on his tippy-toes to reach a Robin cap. Not very inconspicuous, but a kid in dark clothes would draw more attention today of all days than a kid wearing bright red, yellow, and green. He let it be, grabbing one of the only plain black caps before pulling them back out into the sun. There… much better.
“Waffles,” Damian said stubbornly, pointing towards the nearest waffle place. He’d learned to recognize that sign, apparently. Jason followed him, keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings until they were seated in a sticky booth at the back of the restaurant. It was easy to relax this time. He was definitely on the security footage at Arkham, and Batman would definitely put the pieces together sooner rather than later, but today… he could celebrate. Everyone else was doing it. Maybe they deserved this. Them, the city, even Batman himself. (If that man actually took a day off--- Jason would eat his new hat. Yeah.)
Damian puffed his cheeks out, very clearly this close to snapping his fingers like the tiny prince he was. Jason ruffled his hair to suppress him, smiling at a passing waitress to get her attention. “Busy day today?”
“Is it ever,” the lady laughed. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”
Damian preened under the affection, impatience completely dissolved. Overwhelmed with cuteness aggression, Jason pulled him in, tickling his stomach. Damian squealed with laughter, trying to suppress the noise, but there were about seven other kids making verbal chaos in this place. Damian’s joy fit right in.
************
“Okay.” Tim took a deeeeeeep breath, steepled his fingers, and glared at his teammates. They’d just watched the domino footage all the way through for the third time. Now they were sitting in silence, dumbstruck. Babs was wiping her eyes with a soaked tissue. Dick was pacing on his hands. Tim… Tim wasn’t sure how to react yet. He had a lot of emotions going on. “I think it’s safe to say that Jason Todd is the Red Hood.”
“Why?” Dick demanded again, flipping onto his feet to push his hand through his messy hair. “Why the alias? Why the crime lord business? Why not ask for help?”
“Look at his eyes,” Babs sniffed stoically, pausing the muted video at the point where Jason lunged for Dick. His eyes were wild blurs, but there was no mistaking the green glow in the mostly-dark apartment. “He’s been thrown in a Lazarus Pit.”
“How long can you be dead before that stops working?” Dick leaned heavily on the console, staring at the snarling visage of his not-dead brother with an emotion Tim didn’t know how to place. “Who got ahold of him? Talia? Ra’s? They probably wanted a weapon against Batman. God… a successor to take his place. Look at the freaking kid!!!”
Tim pursed his lips as Barbara rubbed Dick’s back. When was the right time to say it? He’d never been very good at the obvious social cues. The subtle ones were no problem, but this? “He’s not Jason’s child.”
Dick looked up, blinking like a stunned deer. “What?”
“I mean, he has the same hair,” Tim reasoned firmly, pointing at the kid in the background of the screen. “but look at his eyebrows.”
“Those are Bruce’s,” Babs finished cautiously.
Dick shook his head fervently. “No, no, I asked him. He said the kid was his. Look at that… that skin, and the eyes; they’re Talia’s.”
“Okay, let’s back up.” Babs rewound the video to the first few minutes, emphasizing her point. “We’ll start with what we know. That is definitely Jason. He doesn’t say very much, but he recognizes you as soon as he walks in, Dick. Which makes it inexcusable, by the way, that he shot you---”
“I’d broken into his home, Barbie---”
“He shot you, Dick.”
“And Dick is fine.” Tim paused the video to zoom in on the helmet at Jason’s belt. “If that’s Jason, then that’s the hood. Jason Todd broke into Titans’ Tower. My hero tried to kill me.”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” Dick interrupted anxiously, waving his hands. “He doesn’t know you personally, Tim; there’s probably a logical---”
“Oh, okay, so you’re the apologist here, then.” Tim crossed his arms grouchily. The feeling of incredulous anger was beginning to win above the rest. “If our mysterious kid hadn’t stopped him, I’d be dead.”
“Jason died doing this job,” Babs said softly. “I have a hard time believing that he wanted to kill you. Whatever this is… Whatever he’s thinking… it wasn’t that. I know him, Tim.”
“You DID.” Tim unpaused the video into slow mo. “I can’t help feeling like the odd man out. Why are you guys on his side?”
Dick plopped down criss-cross next to Tim’s chair, squeezing his knee with a stupid imploring look on his stupid pitiful face. “No, Tim, don’t say that. They’re not sides, they’re just…”
“It’s a web,” Babs supplied helpfully. She made firm eye contact. Tim couldn’t spot any more tears. “It was wrong of Jason to attack you, but it was also wrong that he was possibly dipped in Lazarus water. One being true doesn’t make the other false. We’re missing a lot of puzzle pieces here, but Tim--- We are on your side. I’d rather keep you safe than risk your safety to figure this out.”
“Yeah,” Dick piped up. “I’ll risk mine, but not yours, Tim.”
Tim crossed his arms again, trying to ignore the traitorous warmth blooming in his chest. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you’ve proven that.” Babs offered a rare smile. It was shaky. (Tim still didn’t know what she thought about the Joker’s possible death. He was too afraid to.) “We wouldn’t have stumbled onto this case in the first place if not for you, Tim, and we wouldn’t be nearly this far along, either. You being attacked at the Tower might have proven fortuitous. We have more clues now, don’t we? Since we know Hood is the same person we’ve been tracking from Iran, maybe we can study his debut in Gotham with fresh eyes, figure out where he’s coming from or what his goal is.”
“You’re also right, Tim,” Dick mumbled thoughtfully, eyes still glued to the screen. “This isn’t the same Jason. I mean, he’s Jason, but he’s also… not. He’s been through five years of who knows what; dude’s gotta have a lot of… uh, life experience by now. If he follows through on the meeting downtown, maybe he’ll clue me in a little.”
“He’s Jason, he’s Red Hood, and he missed you,” Babs said firmly, scribbling away on her tablet. “That much is clear. We still don’t know for sure what’s causing that glow, and we still don’t know, beyond word of mouth, that this kid is biologically his. Figuring that out comes second to keeping Jason in town. You need to follow his lead, Dick. If he spooks around a specific question or topic…”
“Back the hell off,” Dick finished quickly. “Yeah, I’m not risking this.”
Tim licked his lips. “What’s the end goal here? Bring him home? I mean, I can help you from my place for a few weeks. Y’know, assuming an adjustment period to stay out of his way. Also assuming we tell B, which I sorta think we should.”
“No,” Dick said sharply before wincing. “Sorry, Tim, I… Yes, we should, but it’s not a great idea right now.”
“I’m with Tim on this.” Babs crossed her arms. “Why shouldn’t we? We’ve run out of reasons not to. This is either Jason or a certified clone with false memories, and Bruce should know either way.”
“Bruce should know,” Dick hastened sharply. “but Batman will freak out. C’mon, Babs, he’s already stressing over the whole Joker thing. Until it’s confirmed that he’s dead, there’s a very real chance that he’s roaming free, and Batman knows that. He’s trying to figure out what’s going on before it’s too late. If we tell him that the crime lord threatening Robin’s life has been his dead freaking son…”
Tim leaned back, sighing regretfully. “I get it. Batman is sometimes a coping mechanism. Or… I dunno, the hyper over-preparedness is. The control freak tendencies.”
Dick flipped back onto his hands, retracing his route around the Clocktower. “I want to believe his best intentions, but even then, he’d still rush in guns blazing to get Jason to come home. Uh… metaphorically. If Nightwing in all his brazen charm could barely get close, who knows how Jason will react to the Bat himself.”
“He’s protecting a kid,” Babs said softly, pausing the video to stare intently at said kid’s glare. “It makes no difference whether they’re related by blood; they’re clearly bonded.”
“Is this a mother bear an’ her cub thing?” Tim spun around in his chair, taking to Dick’s method of constant movement in order to think. “I mean, that makes sense. He did shoot you, Dick.”
“He did.” Dick cocked his head at Tim upside down. “What do you think the chances are that he’ll do it again?”
“Twenty bucks says he’ll shoot your other leg.”
“Ooo, I’ll take those odds.”
“Oh my God.” Babs took her glasses off to rub her nose. “We are not betting on this.”
“I dunno, Babs.” Tim grinned sharply. “He’s a pretty angry guy.”
“He’s not angry,” Dick mused as he balanced on one hand. “He’s… I dunno… lost. God, I wonder what he’s thinking right now. Do you think he hates me?”
Babs rolled her eyes at Tim. “He does not hate you, Dick, and no, he is not going to shoot your other leg. Haven’t you two heard of jinxes?”
Dick winked discreetly at Tim. Tim winked back. That twenty was as good as his.
************
Batman was still focusing on the Joker’s investigation, and he didn’t want Robin out alone, so Nightwing volunteered to stay for a few more nights. Things were slow in Blud right now, but… heck… things were also slow in Gotham. It was like the entire city had decided to hold her breath. Barely a purse robber could be found.
At midnight, Nightwing sent Robin to the street for some chili dogs, keeping watch on the roof above. He would have gone down to join the banter, and especially to get away from the biting chill of the rooftops, but something about this silence was setting his teeth on edge. The lack of criminal activity wasn’t it. Something else felt… unsettling. Like he was being---
Nightwing whirled on his heel, escrima at the ready. “I fucking knew it.”
“Tsk.” Deathstroke stepped from the shadows, spinning his sword. “My, such language.”
Nightwing shifted his footing to the left, light on his feet. Hopefully Robin stayed below… This was one big bad that was better avoided than battled with. How the hell would he explain this to Batman? Yeah, uh, my arch nemesis tracked me to Gotham because he missed our beatdowns. I’m really sorry; won’t happen again.
“I imagine you’re wondering what I want,” Deathstroke mused casually, sheathing the sword. “Believe it or not, I had planned to follow you undisturbed so long as you didn’t notice.”
Nightwing scoffed heavily. “Your silence has a distinct ring to it.”
“Yes… You seem to be the only bird to have learned that.” Deathstroke cocked his head, tracking Nightwing carefully with one green eye. “You’d better teach them.”
“Them--- Jason.” Nightwing’s fists tightened on his weapons. The air seemed to crackle with his sudden tension. “What did you do to him?”
“Me? Gave him a gun, some money, and a piece of advice.” Deathstroke chuckled darkly. “I may have swiped a few pieces of video proof on my way; it was quite entertaining to watch him make it back all on his own.”
Nightwing’s blood boiled. “You stopped him from calling for help? Oh, let me guess, you’re the reason he’s taken to organized crime.”
“Mno, that idea was entirely of his own creation.” Deathstroke paced slowly, allowing Nightwing to circle far away from him. “I must say, though, he’s done a wonderful job of it. As to calling for help, he never did; not to my knowledge. With such limited resources at his disposal, he occasionally left… accidental clues… for those pursuing him. I covered his tracks.”
Nightwing’s gaze flicked to Deathstroke’s slowly circling feet, where Robin had popped his head over the ledge. The kiddo just as quickly disappeared again. Smart. Hopefully he wasn’t about to try anything stupid. “Let’s assume you’re telling the truth, which would be a long shot. Why would you do it? What’s your stake in this?”
“We’ll call it… satisfied curiosity.” Deathstroke laughed again. It was a very unsettling sound. “An interested third party, if you will.”
Nightwing finally broke form to plant his feet, pointing with a stick. “Stay away from my brother, Slade. I’m bringing him home.”
“Relax… That’s what I’m so interested to watch.” Deathstroke strolled leisurely to the edge of the roof, only glancing over his shoulder at the very last second. “By the way, you’ll have to forgive me for taking the footage of Arkham’s most recent break-in. I’d let you have it if I didn’t think a distracted Bat is much more entertaining.”
Nightwing rushed him, but Deathstroke was too fast. He stepped into the alleyway… and disappeared.
Robin scrambled up with one chili dog in his mouth, one in his hand, and two batarangs ready to fly. “Wha’ wa’ tha’ all ‘bout?”
Nightwing sheathed his escrima sticks to take a chili dog, trying to control the frustration in his voice. “Deathstroke came all the way to Gotham just to taunt me.”
“Yeah, but what else is new?” Robin wiped ketchup from his chin. “Isn’t that like half of his interactions with you? What did he say?”
Nightwing plopped down onto the ledge, groaning. “He alluded to helping Jason get back to Gotham. He also said he swiped the footage from the Joker’s cell.”
Robin’s lenses widened. “That means he…”
“Yup.” Nightwing munched grimly. “There are only two people in the whole wide world who know what happened in Arkham that night, and Slade Wilson might be one of them.”