Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You know how Ra’s al Ghûl calls himself the Demon’s Head? Does that have any actual merit to it, or is he just saying shit? Because logically that should mean if I cut off his head all demons straight up die, y’know?”

Constantine sighed loudly, clearly already regretting his offer to introduce Jason to the magical side of Gotham only ten minutes into their walk. Jason thought that if he really was that frustrated, he should just admit that he was going to the Village and let Jason lead the way since he knew at least five faster routes than the one the warlock was taking. Honestly, this was the path tourists took. No wonder Constantine seemed to think the city hated him, he practically screamed outsider in his directional choices alone.

“No, the immortal assassin that Batman has a situationship with is not an actual demon,” he said flatly, causing Jason to choke behind his mask. “The Lazarus Pits aren’t necessarily demonic, but they’re cursed as all hell. A lot of people consider it close enough, though you’re obviously proof that that isn’t the case.”

Right. He apparently had holy energy dripping off his soul. Which was… something. Jason hadn’t given it enough thought to really feel a specific way about it, which was somewhat on purpose. Once Roy was back, he promised himself, as if the man hadn’t been present when he had first learned about it.

“Huh,” was all he said. “I guess that’d be too easy.”

“To kill Ra’s al Ghûl, or to get rid of all demons?” Constantine glanced sideways at him.

Jason shrugged. He knew killing Ra’s wouldn’t be easy, but a single man was nothing compared to millions of demons. Besides, after the shit he tried to pull with Damian, he wouldn’t be surprised if the All-Blades worked on him. Jason still sometimes wanted to hunt him down for trying to turn Damian into nothing but a vessel. His little brother had explicitly told him not to, though, which was the only reason he hadn’t.

“You Bats are insane,” Constantine muttered, snapping him back to the present.

“At least we don’t take tourist routes,” Jason shot back.

“Pardon?”

“There are at least three faster ways to get to the Village. That is where we’re going, yeah?”

Constantine halted, turning to look at him with squinted eyes. “How could you tell?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, tilting his head so it translated through his mask.

“Where we’re headed,” the warlock elaborated.

“This is the tourist route to the Village.”

“How do you know that?”

“Gotham is my city. None of us would be worth anything if we didn’t know these things. Besides, I’m from Crime Alley. We’re especially good at picking out outsiders. That’s how you stay safe and fed as a street rat.”

“I don’t particularly want to be an insider, ” Constantine muttered.

“Gothamite,” Jason corrected automatically. “Outsiders get jumped more often, are less likely to get information, and don’t get offered tips on rogue activity. They also take convoluted routes to get everywhere, wasting time in the process. Hell, I bet you think the sewers just refers to the literal sewer system,” he scoffed.

Constantine’s silence was telling.

“See? I know this city better than the Bat. Always have. Sure, part of that I’ve always attributed to the wolf stuff, but I’ve also studied this city, taken the time to memorize blueprints and floorplans, and connected with her people. So you can keep on this winding path, or I can get us to the Village in less than ten minutes.”

Constantine studied him for a minute, obviously considering his claims. “Fine,” he relented. “But I’m not wading through the sewer or jumping off roofs.”

Jason laughed quietly, immediately turning down a dark alley. “The roofs add another route, the sewers add three more on top of that.” Not true, one of the three he had mentioned before was one of two routes through the sewers. Still, Jason was a Gothamite. That meant he was loyal to Gotham and distrustful of outsiders who wanted to pick apart her secrets.

It took seven minutes for them to reach the edge of the Village, a dramatic difference from the fifteen minutes Constantine’s route would have likely taken, if one was optimistic. Jason halted as soon as they arrived, gesturing grandly at the odd little town-within-a-city.

The warlock blinked, looking grudgingly impressed. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. Constantine shook his head, refocusing. “I know you hate cops, but one of my sources is a detective.”

“My hatred of cops is pretty mutual,” Jason said warily. “They don’t like cop killers on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

“I thought you didn’t kill anymore?”

“The American government doesn’t give a shit about reformation. Come back to me once you know what the prison-industrial complex is.”

That got him a confused look, but Constantine acquiesced to the warning, instead heading for a small store that was for some reason still open at two in the morning. Even in Gotham, mom-and-pop stores closed at dark. Jason didn’t need a warlock to tell him this place had something else going on.

“Hey, Gus,” Constantine greeted as they entered, but Jason didn’t hear the rest of what he said. There was an orange cat standing at the end of the front aisle of the store.

Jason stared at the cat. The cat stared back.

“Hood?” Constantine looked over at him, tone confused.

“That is not a cat,” he stated.

“Wh- huh?”

Jason pointed, “that is not a cat. My brother has a cat. There is no way that is a cat.”

The store owner chuckled, and Jason turned his head just enough to keep the “cat” in his vision as he glanced at the man. He was a middle-aged black man, stocky and kind looking. He looked like the type that still cared for people despite being given a shit hand.

“Good eye,” he smiled, though there was a wariness in his eyes. “He’s my son’s familiar.”

“What is he?” Jason asked warily.

“Don’t fight him,” Constantine said tiredly.

“What is he?” His voice grew tighter, more commanding.

The store owner – was his name Gus? – shrugged. “His name is Gaius Publius.”

“He’s a Roman citizen,” Jason said flatly.

“At one point,” the man agreed. “But now he’s a familiar, currently in the shape of a cat.”

“Doesn’t feel like a cat,” Jason muttered mutinously. He seemed too large to be contained in the body of a domestic feline.

“Ignore that cat, Hood,” Constantine huffed. “He’s not gonna do anything to you. Hood, Gus. Gus, Hood. I need to introduce him to your son.”

Gus frowned, “I know he can sense Gaius, but why do you want to introduce him to Simon?”

Jason watched the “cat” as he listened to their conversation.

“Well first of all, he has so much going on that looking in his direction gives me a headache, but also Gotham is real attached to him. Figured your boy could give him some answers, and Hood here could probably help with his current problem.”

Great, Constantine was pimping him out now. Fantastic.

Gus’s posture immediately shifted from casual to intense. “You think?”

“It’s not my place to share, but based on a few of the magicks hanging around him? Yeah, he might be what he’s looking for.”

Oh, so Jason was the answer to someone’s quest. Great. Utterly fantastic.

“A few ?” Gus leaned back in surprise, arms crossed over his chest.

“Only like 80% of what he has going on is even visible, I’ve never seen anyone with this extensive of a collection before.”

Well, that was new information. Jason was starting to think the whole learning about himself thing was going to be a lot more stressful than he originally anticipated.

The man’s eyes shifted, studying Jason now instead of looking at Constantine. He let himself be studied, unwilling to look away from the “cat.”

“What do you think?” Gus asked Jason.

“Me?” He tilted his head to the side.

The man nodded.

Jason shrugged. “I didn’t think getting answers to most of these things was even an option, ’specially since it’s been so long now. Constantine has earned both sides of his reputation. If he thinks you or your son hold the answers, I’m inclined to believe him. If not, well, it’s only one night wasted. The Alley has survived without me before, and the Bats know how to make up for my lack of presence.”

Constantine seemed surprised by his words, but the Brit only looked back at Gus.

Gus studied him, likely weighing the truth of his words. Jason let him, but couldn’t help his uneasy glances at where Gaius was still just… chilling. He reminded him of when he got turned into a rat. A sense of too small, wrong wrong wrong! that made his skin prickle and his metaphorical hackles rise. If he shifted, the literal ones would, too.

“I’ll let Simon know, but it’s up to him,” he said sternly.

Jason shrugged, “sounds good to me. As I said, if Constantine hadn’t happened to visit I would have kept going assuming I’d never get answers.”

Gus shot the warlock an amused glance. “Making house calls, John?”

“His older brother is Nightwing,” Constantine said flatly.

Jason kicked out at him, boot tapping him lightly on the calf. “Oi, that’s not common knowledge. Imma tell B you said that.”

He sent him a flat look as Gus chuckled, warming considerably. “Gus Webb,” he held out a hand to shake.

“Red Hood,” he shook his hand firmly, though still kept the “cat” in his line of sight. “Depending on how this goes, you might be cleared for another of my identities.”

Constantine looked at him sharply, obviously not expecting Jason to offer the context of Robin so soon. “I thought you were just as paranoid as your old man?”

He scoffed loudly, thinking of the different flavors of paranoia from Willis and Bruce. No wonder Jason had fucked up ideas surrounding identity. “Why do people keep assuming that? I practically advertised who I was when I first returned to Gotham. Not that he likes talking about any of that, all things considered.”

Constantine’s eyebrows shot up but he didn’t comment, instead turning back to the man who ran the store. “Does this mean you’ll introduce him?”

Gus chuckled, shaking his head. “Simon’s busy tonight. Tom’s shift is ending soon, though, so he might stop by. If not, I’ll talk to him about meeting with the two of you tomorrow.”

“Hood doesn’t talk to cops,” Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I talk to Gordon,” he defended. “But this is Gotham. I was a street rat, talking to the pigs gets you trafficked.”

Gus nodded, “you’re from Park Row, right?”

“It hasn’t been called that in my lifetime,” Jason admitted. “But yeah, I’m born and bred Alley.”

“Good on you for caring about that place,” he nodded at him, radiating stern approval. “All parts of Gotham deserve protectors, not just the Diamond District.”

“Spoiler’s from the Bowery, so that’s where she patrols,” Jason shared. “But three of the Bats are immigrants. Without that kinda tie, it’s often easier to just stick to the normal route until there’s a case, y’know? Signal may be Narrows, but he’s also the only dayshifter. I’ve been working with Oracle and the Bat on shifting routes, but…” he trailed off with a shrug. “Crime Alley is my turf because it’s my home. Without an emotional tie to a specific neighborhood, it can unfortunately fall by the wayside until Gordon brings our attention to something big. It’s not a perfect system. Oracle does her best to pick up that slack, but only a few of the buildings in my territory have up-to-date blueprints in any sort of city archive, and there’s not enough cameras for her to see through. There’s always more Bats, but this is still Gotham. Wayne Enterprises does a lot, but these things run deep. Not all of them can be solved via social welfare programs, even if they should be.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a crime lord?” Constantine squinted at him.

Jason flushed behind his mask, embarrassed by how passionate he had gotten. “I’m supposed to be a lot of things. Just because I took over the major criminal underworld in about a month didn’t mean I was gonna keep it as shitty as it had been. My main rule was no sellin’ ta kids. Still is, they’re off limits as a whole. It was my one condition, and my cut was a lower percentage than anyone else since I had already bought out Batman’s R&D department before comin’ t’ town. Didn’t need money. Wasn’t about that.”

“Sorry, you what ?” Constantine asked in disbelief.

“I’m still the majority shareholder,” Jason informed him. “I made a deal with his CEO.” More like Tim had reminded him of it and both of them were entirely too entertained by the prospect as they made sure that Jason could keep control of the company while maintaining the Bats’ access. They were debating having him attend a shareholder meeting to see how Bruce would react.

“Bats,” he muttered under his breath, making it sound like a curse. It was weirdly validating to be included in that. It was probably best if Jason didn’t read too much into it.

“Come back tomorrow night, one-thirty,” Gus decided. “Simon will be free to talk to you then.”

“I don’t know who he is, but sure,” Jason agreed, letting a bit of sarcasm leak into his voice.

“Simon Dark is the Mayor of Gotham,” Constantine said nonsensically.

“What?”

“On a magical level,” Gus explained. “There’s two different versions of city officials. One is the actual government, and the other is on a cosmic or occult level. We’ll explain tomorrow.”

Jason paused. That sounded like he thought it would be relevant to him. “I see.” He pulled out one of the business cards he had for people to message him, and slid it over the counter. “If you need to reschedule, or you get into trouble.” He nodded once, gave one last suspicious look to the “cat,” and left the store.

Constantine caught up a few minutes later, finding Jason in the nearby park.

“Sometimes I forget Gotham has places like these,” he admitted to the warlock. “I work and live in the worst part of the city, on an objective and statistical level. It’s better than it used to be, but…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“Was your main rule really protecting children?”

Jason stilled, then nodded. “Do you know anything about my return to Gotham?”

Constantine shrugged, eyes sharp and calculating. “Bats only really said that there was a rogue he needed to deal with, then later something vague about the rogue disappearing, but he seemed weirdly sad instead of concerned about the danger. Then he introduced you during that alien invasion as his son. The banter over comms about you being a crime lord is the only reason the JLD knows about the connection, but the regular League might know more.”

That… sounded like Bruce. “I was angry,” he shrugged. “The way I grew up…” Jason trailed off, trying to figure out how to articulate it. “Let me give you an example. When I was Robin, I found out my dad had been killed in prison by Two-Face. My immediate reaction was to hunt him down and end his life.”

Constantine’s eyebrows shot up at that.

“B talked me down, yadda yadda, but basically if someone kills one of my people, the obvious decision is to end their life. When I finally got back to consciousness after I came back, I learned that the Joker was not only still alive, but breaking out with the same level of regularity as before he murdered me. He was still allowed to hurt other people.”

Constantine nodded slowly, hands in the pockets of his trench coat as they walked.

“Looking back, not all of my plans were entirely, well, sane. I planned them meticulously, but,” he shrugged. “I forgave him for not being able to save me. I couldn’t forgive the Clown’s life. He was still killing people. Not only that, but Robin was still a thing. He still had a kid in a cape, a traffic light-colored target. So yeah, my first rule was no one hurts kids. Besides, I was a street rat for three years before I got nabbed by the Bat. I know what that’s like.”

“If given the choice, would you go back to that?”

Jason snorted, “I got control of Gotham’s underworld so Batman was forced to pay attention to me. At one point I told him I was going to do his job but better. Jury’s out on that. But when I came back, most people were upset with me not for returning, but for disappearing.” He rubbed at the scar on his neck, leather catching on permanently ragged flesh.

“So is that a no?”

“I wouldn’t do it the same way,” he offered. “But, hell, I can’t say it didn’t work. Did you know I got cop-related crime down to zero percent in my territory? It’s significantly lower than average, but it exists again in those areas after I left. That’s the problem, though. The GCPD is corrupt to an ungodly degree. Gordon’s the only cop I trust. There’s hundreds on the force. I mean, you probably saw me stopping that cop from assaulting a woman the night ’Wing got turned into a rabbit. There’s a protocol for that type of situation. It’s fucked.”

It was silent for a time as they continued back towards Crime Alley, Jason taking several shortcuts.

“What you really want is to fix a system you see as impossibly broken,” Constantine eventually said, a strange gravity to his tone that Jason rarely heard outside of talking about the order of the universe.

He shrugged, “I’m a Gothamite. That means I love this city no matter how much she hates me. I’ve been in a lot of her broken systems, Constantine. B tries, but he’s rich as fuck and lived in Bristol his whole life, same as Red Robin. Robin is literal royalty where he’s from. N might have grown up in the circus, but he was never poor, not like Spoiler or I were. Black Bat has always been too dangerous to have to worry. Signal only gets about half of it. And that’s a good thing! But because we’re the only ones who have experienced that shit, it can be hard for Spoiler or I to… get that across. The fact that the ways in which they try to help aren’t necessarily worth anything. The ways to actually make things better. It’s not all donating clothes and building shelters. It’s helping people get their GED or a degree late in life. It’s assisting them in registering to vote, or bringing in leaders from the community to council spaces, or making sure the water filters that are given out actually fit the sinks they need to be used in. It’s protecting community gardens from rogue attacks, and making sure the churches that help people get protection while the ones that disappear the vulnerable are brought to justice. Hell, it’s noticing that someone went missing in the first place. When people talk about serial killers targeting the people no one would notice were gone, they’re talking about my people. They are noticed, the cops just don’t care.”

“It sounds like rotten work.”

Jason snorted. Constantine probably didn’t realize the reference, but… “not to me, it isn’t. Not if it’s Gotham.” He grinned behind his mask, “I know it’s a hell of a lot. And I also know that it starts small. But that’s why we go out every night. It’s why those of us with civilian identities use them the ways we know how to help. She’s worth it.”

Constantine was clearly mulling over what he had told him for the rest of the walk. He nodded to Jason as they parted, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. It was only then that he realized the man had abstained the entire time they were walking together. Strange.

»§«

Luckily, when Jason dropped down from the roof of Webb’s Market the next night, there were no false felines on the premises.

“Hood,” Gus greeted. “You’re early.”

It was true. It was one-twenty. He shrugged, “better early than late.”

“Can’t argue with that. Come on back.” Gus immediately headed to the back room of the store, not looking back to see if he would follow. The trust was… strange. Jason wasn’t used to people vouching for him. He wasn’t used to someone being so ready to let him in the door. It made him wonder what Constantine had said after he had left.

There was a kid in the office, around Duke’s age. Hell, he even looked somewhat like Duke. Same hair type and skin tone, at least. More than an initial glance destroyed that comparison rather quickly, especially the kid’s hair and clothing styles. Jason didn’t know Duke well enough to know his style when he wasn’t dressing his part as a member of the Wayne family, but this kid was more like Jason or Tim, with his layered shirt and jackets over a pair of sturdy work pants, contrasting with a pair of red converse and black leather gloves. All of his clothing looked worn, and Jason could see spots where it had been carefully stitched back together. He made a mental note to slip some extra cash into the register when no one was looking.

“Simon, this is who I was talking about. Red Hood, this is my son, Simon Dark.”

He nodded, “nice ta meet ya. I heard you can tell me what’s goin’ on with, well,” Jason gestured vaguely at himself.

Simon studied him, eyes flicking in a way that was similar to when Constantine was looking at magic instead of reality. Jason breathed carefully, doing his best to stay calm. He hated it when anyone studied him, especially strangers.

“You died too,” he said softly.

Jason stiffened, then paused. Too? “You’ve died?”

Simon glanced uncertainly at Gus, as if asking permission. He nodded slightly, granting it.

Simon took off his gloves, revealing hands of an entirely different skin color. They were as white as Tim was. He then pulled off his jacket, showing his arms to be patchworked together, like Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas. A tug at his collar revealed his head had been stitched on separately.

Jason turned to Gus, “you read a lot of Shelley?”

He let out a startled laugh, and shook his head. “It was about preserving them, not creating new life. At least… that’s what it became.”

There was grief there. Whatever had happened… Well, Jason understood. “Hey, you’re already doing infinitely better than Victor. You call him your son.”

“Victor?” Simon glanced between them in confusion.

“He’s a scientist in a book,” Jason explained.

Their eyes lit up slightly. “I like to read,” they admitted.

“Maybe I’ll let you borrow my copy. For now, though, I’d like to know what exactly you saw in regards to my whole resurrection deal.”

“Gotham brought you back,” they shrugged. “She likes you. Like a… gatekeeper. But different.”

Great. Dread filled his chest, and Jason took a careful breath. “Right. Okay. She couldn’t’ve dug me out first?”

Gus looked mildly ill at those words, but Simon just shrugged. “The Mayor didn’t care, so he didn’t dig you up. But I’m the Mayor now.”

“And what, exactly, does that entail?”

“Tom is able to explain it better,” they shrugged again. “But I’m basically in charge of regulating the energy across the planes.”

Jason blinked. That was unbelievably above his pay grade. “That… sounds like a lot. Are you saying that if Gotham brought someone else back, she would ask you to dig them up?”

“I’m not sure. What I do know is that I’d know about it, so I would dig them up.”

Christ, this kid was too kind for their own good. “Right. Okay. Right. And the whole gatekeeper thing?”

Simon wrinkled their nose, glancing at Gus for help.

“Based on our research,” he took over for his son. “While all hub cities have a gatekeeper like the Mayor, Gotham is one of the ones that should actually have an entire cabinet, for lack of a better term.”

Jason’s heart dropped. “You think I’m one of the missing cabinet members.”

He nodded. “Simon’s the Mayor, but we also need a Treasurer, a Warden, a Commissioner, and a Judge.”

Jason swallowed, thoughts racing. Which one was he? Which one did they think he was? “What makes you think I am actually one of those? How would you even confirm something like that? How did you get the job? You’re just a kid.”

“The previous Mayor was my twin made of dark energy, so I absorbed him.”

“What the fuck,” he whispered.

“There’s a ritual that can be done to confirm your identity, but it can’t be done to find the people in the first place,” Gus quickly moved on. “Otherwise we would have done that as soon as we noticed the problem.”

“Would this ritual work to lock me in if it wasn’t me?” Jason immediately clarified.

“No,” Gus shook his head. “Believe me, Rachel probably would have tried to step up for one of them if it was possible. When the spots are vacant this long, Gotham handpicks them.”

“Right,” whoever Rachel was. “So if the Mayor is the actual gatekeeper, what do you think I am?”

“Commissioner,” Simon said without hesitation.

Jason frowned.

“You want to heal the city,” they explained. “Your job would be to encourage her and her people to flourish, and root out corruption like… weeds in a garden.”

“I’m already doing that, though,” he pointed out, embarrassed that he had forgotten that there were more types of commissioner than just the one that was in charge of cops.

Simon nodded, “exactly. This would just have you doing it magically, too. I provide the resources and energy, and you decide where it goes.”

“What about the others? Do you have anyone you think might fit the bill?”

Simon shrugged helplessly. “We stick to the Village. I don’t know very many people.”

“John said you could probably help with finding people based on job description,” Gus shared.

Jason sighed. Of course he did. “He's not wrong,” he admitted. “Alright, lay it on me.”

“Treasurer would be focused on magical artifacts,” like the Drakes or Selina, “Warden on keeping things from other planes bound, and Judge on ensuring justice occurs according to your will.”

“Sort of,” Gus cut in. “If the Commissioner is corrupt, the Judge steps in so he gets brought to justice.”

“Harvey,” Jason said immediately. “But he’s… well first of all, he doesn’t have a lick of magic.”

“Are you talking about Harvey Dent ?” Gus asked incredulously.

Jason nodded. “Both sides of him are determined to bring justice to this city. One as District Attorney, the other as a mobster. Paperwork versus taking the law into his own hands. Each one a side of the scales.”

“But without magic, that kind of responsibility would drive anyone-” Gus stopped, just short of the word insane.

Jason nodded again, “exactly. From what he’s told me he already had the potential for DID before he was attacked. That’s just the incident that made him snap. But it’s not his duality that makes him dangerous. He’s pretty stable, all things considered. But Gotham isn’t a city where people like that get help.” Harvey was tragic for more reasons than just his perpetual state of divorce with Bruce. The very welfare programs he had been trying to create could have saved him if he had succeeded.

“Did you know him?” Gus asked in surprise. “Before, I mean.”

Jason snorted, “I grew up with a Two-Face goon for a father. So no, but he… helped me out later. Or, well, he stuck to neutrality when the other big names were all gunning for me. He recognized that I was in it for the city. Hell, if I’m right, he might have recognized me on some magic level.”

“If he doesn’t have magic, the only way to stabilize him would be to find a magical artifact that could carry the burden,” Simon frowned. “Otherwise his madness will continue to rot the city.”

Well that was comforting. “Let me guess, finding the correct artifact would be the Treasurer’s job,” he sighed.

Gus shrugged as his son nodded. “That, or you would pick something out from the Treasurer’s collection.”

He sighed again, rubbing at his forehead. “I have two potential paths for Treasurer. One better than the other.” Selina at least lived in Gotham for more than six months out of the year. “The only person I’ve heard of doing those things in regards to the Warden is Constantine, but I don’t really know any magic users. I can do some research though. I’m guessing that caring about Gotham is a prerequisite?”

Gus grimaced. “It should be, but the previous one didn’t.”

“He saw humanity as dirty and unworthy,” Simon said softly. “I disagree.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Not that Jason was human. He just passed well.

“Are you alright with doing the ritual tonight, or would you prefer to think it over?” Gus asked.

“I’d appreciate reading over your research myself,” Jason admitted. “And a couple days to think it over. I have plans tomorrow night, and the day after that is an all-Bats meeting about patrol schedules.” He paused, “actually, does the Village need more attention, or are you guys alright?”

“I protect people,” Simon stated.

Jason would like to know their methods and make sure they knew how to fight, but for the moment he nodded. He’d see what he could do for the kid once they had more of a rapport. “Let me know if you need anything. Custom gear ain’t exactly easy to get your hands on, and it can be a lifesaver. Certainly makes things easier.”

“Your clothes are magic,” they stated.

Jason blinked, looking down at his armor. Right, the enchantments so that he could shift. “That’s specific to me. Needed it for a case. I was more talking about armor or comms. Though if I get you a comm, everyone else will descend to meet you. To be fair, it might happen anyway since it sounds like I’ll be working with you from now on. My siblings love getting in my business for some reason.”

“How many do you have?”

Jason paused, counting on his fingers to make sure. “Uhhh, five? Yeah, five. Spoiler and Oracle aren’t my siblings, but they’re still part of the family.”

“Oh. I only have one brother. He’s only one person, though, unlike me.”

Jason’s eyes ran over the patchwork of varying skin tones again. “Is it- are you just one person, or all of them?”

“I’m missing two hearts and minds. I gave them up, but originally I was made up of twenty. It’s all… me, though. All of us- I am Simon. It’s… hard to explain.”

It was about preserving them, not creating new life. He’d been talking in multiples, not pronouns. Twenty teen boys, stitched together in desperation to create… Simon. Just Simon. A son. Who had they been? Jason wondered. Who had they been to Gus ?

“You don’t have to explain. I’m curious, but if you don’t want to tell me that’s okay. Sometimes even though you know something, the words to explain it don’t organize themselves in a way that makes sense.”

Simon practically lit up at his explanation, and Jason resolved to introduce him to Cass. She knew what that was like, and could probably also use someone who understood. “Do you have trouble with words?”

“Nah,” Jason shook his head. “But Black Bat does. She didn’t learn how to communicate until she was around sixteen.” Jason was still in the ground when she had become Batgirl. She had managed to be abroad both when he resurrected and when he came back to Gotham. He was embarrassingly grateful for that second one. “The man who raised her didn’t allow her to learn how to speak. They’ve had their ups and downs,” he said diplomatically, as if he didn’t want to hunt David Cain for sport. Cass wouldn’t want him to, though, so he wouldn’t. Apparently the man often did his best to get a birthday present for her these days, so Jason was willing to let himself prove capable of change. It was certainly more than Willis ever did.

“Could I meet her?” Simon asked hopefully.

“Sure thing, kiddo. I’m sure she’d like that as well.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not a kid.”

Jason was glad his grin was hidden by his mask. “Are you old enough to be considered a legal adult?”

“He’s not eighteen,” Gus confirmed with an amused smile.

“Well there ya go! That makes you a kid.”

“I’m older than Robin.”

“Sure,” Jason agreed. “But half the battle with Robin is making sure he feels comfortable enough that acting like a kid is an actual option to him. He grew up in a cult, not that he’s realized what it was yet.”

“Jesus,” Gus hissed. “How’d he get out?”

“His mother delivered him to Batman. I got issues with the woman, but she did the right thing on that front. Anyway,” Jason shook his head. “I suspect I have a lot of reading to do, not counting the research for finding a magic user and someone obsessed with artifacts.”

He was handed a leather-bound book, as well as a pile of loose papers. Jason resolved to return them in a file folder, if only to be slightly passive aggressive. He said his goodbyes, again offered his services if they got into trouble, and disappeared into the night.

»§«

Jason was halfway through the description of the ritual to identify if someone was part of the Cabinet when Tim crawled through the window of his safehouse, immediately followed by Steph.

“Leftovers in the fridge, medkit under the bathroom sink,” he said without looking up, continuing to read. Tim made a beeline for the bathroom as Steph wandered over to his fridge, giving his kitchen a once over that he knew for a fact was unnecessary. She definitely knew where his spices were, at the very least.

Jason stacked up the papers and put them in the folder he had gotten out to store them in once he was done reading, stretching as he looked over to see them eating dinner at his kitchen table. At this rate he was going to have to start tracking down more chairs. “Everything alright?”

They nodded silently, looking exhausted. Jason frowned. Steph at least tended to be a bit of a chatterbox. Something was up.

“Wanna talk about it, or do you just want to crash here?”

Twin looks of hope were directed his way. Jesus, what had happened ?

“We’re gonna have to talk in the morning,” Jason said sternly. “But you guys can crash in the guest room.”

“Thanks,” Tim rasped, both of them slumping in relief.

Jason just awkwardly nodded, not really sure what else to say. “I actually have a case I’m working on I’m pretty sure you can help me with,” he shrugged casually, picking up the book. “Might as well let you crash here if only so I can find you once you’re conscious.”

Steph snorted, obviously seeing right through him, but neither one commented.

They ended up washing their own dishes before taking turns in the shower, Jason taking notes as he read what had been found about each of the five titles and also what it meant to be a hub city. It was actually pretty interesting, and Jason realized the Warden was sort of like Batman with Arkham, just on a much more cosmic level. Personally, Jason felt a better name for the Treasurer would be Curator, since they basically were in charge of a museum of powerful artifacts. Hell, maybe the curator of Gotham’s history museum fit the bill.

(It wasn’t likely, if only because Jason knew for a fact he lived in Metropolis and made the commute on his working days. If Gotham had handpicked everyone like Simon and Gus said, she wouldn’t pick someone from Superman’s city.)

The more Jason read about the Judge, the more certain he became that it was Harvey. It was someone determined to give everyone justice, regardless of status or what the law said. Someone who called out corruption in positions of power and wouldn’t be silenced by anyone who opposed them. Harvey fit the bill.

The Commissioner was the most vague, likely because they filled different roles depending on the city. In Gotham, practically every part of her infrastructure needed some sort of help, which would be Jason’s obligation to improve. Improve because things couldn’t be fully fixed until at least five of those things weren’t in dire straits.

Infrastructure was a web. Clinics kept people healthy, kitchens provided food, and law enforcement were supposed to keep things in order. If the cops didn’t keep drugs off the streets, the clinics got overloaded. Same with the kitchens not being clean or stocked enough. If the police were corrupt, more people would overload those clinics. No matter the occupation, if pay wasn’t good enough, people turned to crime. The crime that affected the most people was that committed by cops. Of course, that wasn’t mentioning city planners, educational centers, public transportation, fire fighters, housing, hospitals, community centers, libraries, and so much more.

Jason had started to write notes on creating a color-coded virtual map of Gotham to keep track of all of those things when Steph dropped onto the couch beside him, leaning into his side as he jumped out of his skin. Fucking hell, he had forgotten he had company.

“Christ,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You startled me, Blondie.”

She laughed quietly, but didn’t say anything.

After a minute Jason got back to his current project, before freezing when he realized he had automatically accepted that he was the one who would be taking the job.

“What are you working on?”

“Mmn,” Jason paused, considering how much to share. “I talked to Constantine. He apparently can see what brought me back.”

Steph shot up, immediately overbalancing and needing Jason’s help to not fall off the couch. “Seriously?”

He nodded, chewing on his lip. “Apparently, Gotham is sentient and brought me back herself.”

She stared at him.

“Also there’s rumors about there being a mouth into Hell in the depths of the city, and based on everything going on with me he found it necessary to share that there are really old legends involving werewolves guarding the gates of Hell.”

“Jesus. Are you okay?”

He snorted, tossing his pen down. “Yeah, actually. Surprisingly. Anyway, did you know that the Village has their own vigilante? I want to introduce Cass to him because he struggles with the whole communication thing, and she knows what that’s like and could probably also use someone who gets it.”

Steph continued staring at him.

“Also I don’t think he can die. He’s Gotham’s magical gatekeeper, confusingly called the Mayor, and he and his dad are looking for four other people to basically be magical versions of cabinet members and they think I’m one of them, and I’m ninety percent certain another of them is Harvey. Like, Two-Face Harvey. And he’s probably only that unhinged because he’s not magical but Gotham is still trying to exert her influence over him. So. I’m having a night.”

“Damian got fear gassed,” Steph blurted. “He was shaking so badly he dropped his sword, and was only talking in League Dialect. I couldn’t understand him, but whatever he said had Tim looking physically ill. We managed to get him the antidote, but it required us jumping him and I feel really guilty even though I know it was the only way.”

“Jesus,” Jason muttered. “Sounds like we’ve both had a wild night.”

She let out a shaky laugh, and leaned into his side. Jason carefully put his arm around her, and she immediately hugged his torso.

He was gently running a hand through her still-damp hair when Tim stumbled out of the bathroom, immediately taking a spot on Jason’s other side. He snorted, realizing that they were not going to let him go to go sleep in the guest room. Oh well. At least they felt safe enough around him to be this close.

»§«

Jason woke up to both of the kids clinging to him, sound asleep. He lay there for a minute, unsure how to get up. He could hear his living room window opening, probably Bruce or Dick, and shifted, carefully padding out of the bedroom and praying they wouldn’t get woken up.

“What the fuck?” Dick muttered, looking at him in confusion.

Jason tilted his head, wondering what he was confused about.

“Why is there a wolf?” He continued talking to himself. “Hey buddy, do you know where Jason is? I wanna know if he’s seen Red Robin or Spoiler.”

Did- did he not know ? He stared at his brother for a moment, then turned around to head back to the bedroom. He really needed to enchant some of his everyday clothing to shift with him.

Jason jumped back up onto the bed, curling up in the spot he had been before, both of them immediately moving to hug him again.

He heard Dick make various sounds of excitement, and would bet real money he was taking an absurd number of pictures. Jason huffed, then wriggled out again to snag his brother’s sleeve in his teeth, dragging him into the pile. If he was gonna visit, he may as well get comfortable.

»§«

The next time Jason woke up, his brothers were gone and Steph was stumbling out of bed with a yawn. He blinked a couple of times, waited until he was alone, then shifted human and put his clothes back on. He then paused, casting the correct spells on his shirt and pants, before tugging the waistband of his boxers up so he could do the same to them. There. Problem solved.

He used the bathroom after Steph was done with it, washing his hands before seeing what was left in his fridge after having so many people raiding it.

“Little Wing? Where did you come from?”

Jason blinked slowly, staring at his older brother. “You’re an idiot,” he rasped, then paused. “To be fair,” he allowed, “so is everyone else for not realizing we never told you.”

“Oh my god, ” Steph broke into giggles as Jason moved to start making a meal for everyone, giving the toast that Dick and Tim were eating a dubious look.

“Did you really not know?” Tim blurted.

“Know what ?”

Steph was practically in hysterics by that point, and Jason smiled as he glanced over and saw that Tim had dropped his head into his hands and was staring blankly at the wood of his table.

Dick had failed to get an actual answer by the time Jason was giving everyone a plate, and he looked at him helplessly as Jason dragged the recliner over to serve as a fourth chair so he could eat at his own table with the rest of them.

“Dick,” he said seriously, “look at me when I tell you this.”

His brother nodded in confusion, and as soon as the other two were also looking, Jason shifted.

“You- what? Did that magic user turn you into a shapeshifter?”

Jason shifted human just so his incredulous expression could be read more easily. “What the fuck are you on ?”

“He’s a werewolf,” Steph chirped. “It was like a whole thing, the magic user was actually trying to turn him into a rat. That’s why he was still capable of his own normal thoughts.”

Dick opened and closed his mouth a couple times, obviously struggling to process.

“Eat your breakfast, Dickhead.”

He complied, every once in a while asking a question, a vague sense of disbelief underlying all his words and actions.

“I can’t believe everyone forgot to tell me,” he eventually mumbled.

“In their defense practically everyone was in the Cave,” Jason pointed out. “Babs was probably watching the security footage.”

“I told Duke at breakfast the next morning,” Tim added. “Alfred was in the room and didn’t seem surprised, so either he overheard, someone told him, or he already knew.”

“He didn’t know,” Jason shook his head. “I never shifted while at the manor.”

“That’s kinda sad,” Steph pointed out.

Jason just shrugged, not really sure what to say to that.

“You deserve to get dog hair all over the place,” she told him sagely, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fuck off.”

Once Dick was fed and sufficiently convinced all of them were okay, he left to do whatever it was he did on Saturdays, leaving Jason with the gremlins.

Steph immediately made herself comfortable on his couch once the kitchen was cleaned up, and Tim sat on the floor as he asked Jason about the case he had mentioned the night before. He sighed, shoving Steph over so he could share the couch, and started from the beginning.

»§«

“To summarize,” Steph started. “You’re a Chosen One for an order of magical monks that got wiped out, you only survived because you said fuck you to fate and also you already died, you got magic soul-swords out of the deal but also are obligated to maintain the balance of good and evil, Gotham herself resurrected you because you’re her favorite, and the owner of a mom-and-pop store reenacted Frankenstein but with the good ending.” She paused to take a breath. “Said patchwork zombie is not only made up of twenty – sorry, eighteen now – dead teenagers, but is also the magical gatekeeper of Gotham since it’s something called a hub city, and you’re probably his magical coworker, and Two-Face is probably another one of the magical government that no one knew about until now.”

Jason nodded, “and I need to find the other two, one of which might be either Catwoman or Tim’s parents.”

“Well my mom is dead and my dad’s in a coma, so that can probably be ruled out,” Tim shrugged casually. Which, huh?? “But they both have always been pretty ambivalent about Gotham at best. Selina isn’t really attached to it either.”

Jason groaned, leaning back on the couch and slumping down. “Well the museum curator lives in Metropolis, so it ain’t him. The Warden is a completely separate can of worms, but without the Treasurer I can’t get an artifact to get Harvey to start focusing on justice over the drug trade or whatever.”

“So we need to find someone who hoards magical artifacts,” Steph mused thoughtfully.

Jason stared up at the ceiling, wishing things would be at least somewhat easy.

“I mean I understand why you immediately thought of my parents,” Tim admitted, “but Selina’s whole thing is returning artifacts to where they’re from.”

“Do you have access to your parents’ collection?” Jason asked the white paint above his head.

“I mean, yeah? It’s in Drake manor.”

He stilled, then shot up so fast both of them jumped. “We don’t need a Treasurer,” Jason realized. “If we have a collection, there’s a chance it’s in there anyway. There’s no telling there’s only one artifact that would help, either. We just need something that Harvey would use and could take the magical strain he’s theoretically being subjected to.”

“A coin,” Steph concluded, and Tim groaned.

“Do you have any idea how many coins there are?”

“Well it has to be at least a little magical,” Jason pointed out. “Otherwise he’d be fine. If Gotham is capable of resurrection, then the more powerful the better. Just nothing too cursed, obviously. We don’t want to make things worse.”

“Great,” Steph nodded. “We have a plan, then. The question is how much you’re gonna share at the Bat-meeting tomorrow night.”

Jason winced, looking away.

“He’s not gonna disown you for magic,” Tim sighed.

Steph snorted, “even if he tried, I’m pretty sure all of us would kick his ass. If all else fails you could just pull out the literal puppy eyes.”

“I’m not a puppy,” Jason snapped, before processing that that reaction was definitely ill-advised. “Anyway,” he hurried on in an attempt to ignore the way her face lit up, “I’m more worried about Simon and how he’d react to what Gus did. Like it’s morally questionable at best, and doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Batman would approve of.”

Tim waved a dismissive hand, “I’ll just remind him of his crashout when you died. He won’t be able to say shit after that.”

Jason gave him a dubious look, but decided to just accept it. Tim tended to be right about these things.

“You’re gonna have to tell Cass at least,” Steph pointed out, “since you want to introduce her to Simon. And Babs has a tendency to watch her tracker like a hawk when she doesn’t say what her plans are.”

Jason decided against asking why she did that. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “It’s just a lot, y’know? First everyone learning about the wolf stuff, now this so soon after.”

“Well you have time to decide,” Tim reminded him. “I know you’re helping Babs with mapping out buildings tonight, so Steph and I can pull out all the coins for you to look at later. We won’t touch any of them directly, before you say anything. They’re in cases to protect them.”

Jason nodded, taking a deep breath. One thing at a time. “Okay. Thanks. B probably has a whole part of his database for magic users, too. That’ll hurry up our search considerably.”

»§«

“I still can’t believe none of you told ’Wing,” Jason said as he stood in an abandoned building, Barbara using the piece of tech he was holding to scan the room he was in.

“It’s a bit impressive,” she admitted. “Okay, you can head upstairs now.”

Jason immediately complied, carefully traversing the staircase and hoping it was stable. “Did B put it in my file?” He asked curiously.

Oracle hummed thoughtfully, faint clicks sounding down the line. “There’s a new locked file attached to your profile,” she told him, obviously holding back laughter.

Jason snorted, shaking his head fondly. “To be fair, I actually appreciate that one. Doesn’t make it any less funny, though. Okay, I’m ready to scan.”

The device beeped in his hands, starting up again. The two continued to chat as he made his way through his territory, Jason giving her a bit of a tour since she was linked to his helmet camera.

“None of my maps are up to date,” Oracle bemoaned when they found the fifth alley that didn’t exist in her systems.

Jason chuckled. “In your defense, this part of the city gets destroyed a lot more often by mundane shit. There’s not that much Wayne growth here, since those programs are focused on destruction from rogue attacks. Over here, a certain amount of demolition is just buildings collapsing from a lack of maintenance. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any programs for that, though.”

“Huh,” she mused. “Would you be willing to write something up about the best ways to help Crime Alley and the surrounding area?”

“I actually have something to bring to the meeting tomorrow that’s related,” he admitted. “But a fire department would probably be a good start, at the bare minimum.”

“Oh god, is there not one? I thought we just hadn’t gotten to it yet.”

Jason laughed openly at that. “There’s not even a community center, O. The library has been steadily falling apart since I was a kid, and don’t get me started on the local schools. How about you name random pieces of infrastructure and I show you how fucked they are?”

Oracle took a moment, the dead air telling Jason that she was probably screaming, then started their little game. He had a feeling she’d be inventing new swears by the end of it.

»§«

Jason rarely brought anything with him to the all-Bats meetings. The meetings were meant to clear up any issues in patrol schedules and also to open the floor to collaboration on cases. Jason had only been to two since he’d been back, and they had been extremely tense. He had better relationships with everyone now, though, so hopefully it wouldn’t be that bad. He also had two files and a leather-bound book with him, something he hadn’t even considered previously.

He wasn’t the only one. Tim had five crates next to his spot at the table, and looked exhausted. Jason hoped those weren’t all paperwork. Bruce also had a file in front of him, as did both Dick and Babs. A long night, then.

Jason dropped down in the seat next to Tim on his other side from the boxes, dropping his papers down as he slumped in his seat, pulling off his helmet and putting it on the table. Babs immediately made grabby hands towards it, so Jason moved the thing to his lap just in case. Only Roy was allowed to operate on it without supervision.

Steph hurried in, taking the other seat next to Jason, Cass moving to sit next to her, and then all of them were there.

Bruce eyed Tim’s boxes warily, but got started. “Any major issues in patrol routes?”

Damian made some complaints, but they were more personal gripes than anything else, which meant the answer was no.

Babs spoke up once it was clear there was nothing urgent, pulling up a map of Gotham on the display in the middle of the table. “This is the map I’ve been working off of,” she started. Another map popped up overlaying it, alterations made in red. All of them were centered around Crime Alley. “This is data I gathered from the mapping project Hood proposed to me. As you can see, it’s very different from what I had before.” She hit another button, and symbols popped up for various services, a key showing up on the side. “These are infrastructure services. You may notice that there is not a single fire station in Hood’s territory. The quality of all of the services his people have access to are also significantly lower, and I had to stop counting building code violations because I was getting a migraine after the second building. For reference, in other parts of Gotham I can usually get through ten.”

Jason shrugged, “I know it’s bad. I’ve done what I can, but it’s like pouring water in a sieve. It needs to be patched first, and I don’t have the time or resources for that at the moment. Sure, I have ideas, but…” he trailed off with another shrug.

“You told me last night one of the issues is that the amount of Wayne-built structures is extremely low,” she prompted, zooming in on his territory.

Jason nodded.

“Can you get into that a bit?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “The rebuilding programs were originally created with rogue attacks in mind. The issue is that most of the buildings in this area are in such bad shape that the equivalent of a coroner’s report tends to mark the cause of death as old age, for lack of a better term. Even if Bane throws a car through a wall. Part of that is because Gotham’s government doesn’t give a shit about the Alley, but also if a car was thrown into most buildings they’d be damaged, but survive. In this area,” he ran a finger in a loop around the majority of the East End after zooming out slightly, “the building straight up fuckin’ collapses. They’re old, not up to code, and a million other problems. The issue comes due to the wording of the rebuilding programs. That coroner’s report I mentioned? That’s what is given to those programs, and they throw out the cases of old age. It’s a loophole, basically. So then when new buildings are constructed, they don’t have that Wayne Enterprises money, so they cut corners, and we’re back where we started.” Jason glanced at Bruce. “That apartment building I leveled was chosen because a bomb going off would make sure it was included in those projects. There was no way to argue out of that. It was abandoned already. I figured I might as well make sure someone got a safe place to live after all that nonsense.”

“I think that counts as fraud,” Tim mused. “Good for you!”

Bruce ignored him. “How would you change those programs to fix the issue?”

Jason winced. “Babs asked me the same thing, actually, but I think it would be better to wait on that until we get to my case. Which should probably wait until after whatever everyone else has going on, since it’s a bit… much.”

“My boxes are for his case,” Tim added, causing the rest of the table to look at them again with wary expressions.

Ah, Jason realized. The coins.

“I guess I’ll go next?” Dick hesitantly raised his hand. His case was a drug ring involving players in both Blüdhaven and Gotham. He had brought it up to request someone to work with him, which Damian immediately volunteered for. Babs had already addressed her issue with the maps at the beginning, which left Bruce. He was putting a vague challenge for a way to overhaul Arkham, exhaustion and frustration obvious. Then, it was back to Jason.

He exhaled, folding his arms on top of his helmet. “You should probably pull up my file,” he admitted. “Since we’re adding to it tonight.”

Steph lifted her mug in a toast, and Tim snorted.

Babs immediately pulled it up, showing off the locked file attached to it.

“These two gremlins know about this because they broke into my place while I was having a crisis about it,” Jason drawled as he gestured to either side of him, “but, uh,” he hesitated.

“Do you want me to summarize again?” Steph asked innocently.

He shot her a look, but relaxed slightly. “No. Short version is I have magic swords, Constantine was able to figure out how I came back from the dead, I met someone who reenacted Frankenstein but gave it a good ending, Gotham as a whole is sentient, and she wants to give me a job.”

Silence descended, everyone staring at him in disbelief.

“Truth,” Cass whispered, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“Also the zombie is a vigilante who exclusively protects the Village,” Jason added. “I don't know much about his vigilante stuff, though.”

“Huh,” Duke mused, staring at his chest. “I think I can see the swords.”

What the fuck?

Chaos erupted in response to those words, and Jason flinched as everyone started asking questions at once.

“Oi!” Steph suddenly yelled, slamming her palms onto the surface of the table. “You’re not gonna get answers by giving him a panic attack. Chill out, and ask your questions one at a time.”

Jason cautiously raised his hand. “I actually have a question. What the fuck do you mean you can see the swords? Also, I don’t actually know your abilities, which would probably help explain that.”

Duke blinked in surprise. “I can manipulate both light and shadow. Also I can see ghosts.” At those words his eyes flicked to a spot over Jason’s shoulder, which was the opposite of comforting.

“You what?” Dick blurted, turning to stare incredulously at him.

Duke shrugged, “I don’t really know how it works. They usually just mill around, but Jason pretty much always has a woman following him. I’ve always assumed it was Catherine, but I’ve never seen a picture of her so I don’t actually know.”

Jason blinked slowly, trying to process all of that. “We can address that later,” he found himself saying. “As in, much, much later. I don’t have the mental capacity for that at the moment.”

“Let’s start with the swords,” Bruce agreed, looking mildly overwhelmed.

“I studied under magical monks in Nepal, and ended up getting magic soul-swords which disintegrate demons, but that also technically made me their Chosen One. The prophecy stated I’d die, but at this point it’s looking fairly likely that my previous death counted enough for me to survive. So now I’m the Final Heir to the All-Caste and the Wielder of the All-Blades. That basically means I’m obligated to help maintain the balance of Light and Dark, and also stand against absolute evil. The soul-swords draw from my soul for strength, so I need to be careful with them, but they also only harm those who are absolute evil. If I stabbed any of you, they’d just go right through you.”

“Does that mean you can solve magical problems instead of Constantine?” Bruce asked hopefully.

Jason stared at his dad incredulously, Steph and Tim both bursting into laughter on either side of him. “Your priorities fascinate me.”

He raised an eyebrow, unrepentant.

“… we can get back to that.”

He nodded, accepting the answer.

“Did he really figure out what brought you back?” Dick asked quietly.

Jason nodded. “Apparently it was Gotham herself. She’s sentient. Which actually brings us to the Frankenstein stuff.”

“By good ending I assume you mean he actually sees his creation as his son?” Babs arched an eyebrow.

Jason nodded again, “I don’t know the full story, but from what I understand Simon was made from twenty teenage boys who died. His creator said it was about preserving them. He loved them too much to let them die. I don’t know what killed them in the first place, and I don’t know either of them well enough to ask. I’m not even sure if Simon knows what killed all his pieces, but I’m fairly certain all of them died in the same event. Whatever the case, they see themselves as father and son.”

“Jesus,” Dick muttered. “I can’t tell if that’s creepy or endearing.”

Jason snorted, glancing over at Cass. “Simon has some trouble articulating his thoughts. Because you know what that’s actually like, I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to meet him?” He asked her. “I posed the idea to him and he seemed excited.”

Cass thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “I am curious,” she admitted. “I want to see his body language.”

Jason nodded. “I’m pretty sure he moves like a living person, but I’m not the best judge of that.”

She laughed quietly, giving him a slight smile.

“How does this Simon connect to Gotham being self-aware?” Damian asked with a frown, arms crossed over his chest.

“Gotham is something called a hub city,” Jason immediately picked up where he left off. “Hub cities all have a sort of gatekeeper, who has the power to regulate flow between the planes, ” he quoted from the book they had given him. “Basically, moving magical energy around. The previous one used his power to bring a bunch of demons over. Anyway, in Gotham that gatekeeper is called the Mayor. Gotham is also one of the few hub cities that also requires a Cabinet. Other than the Mayor, there’s also supposed to be a Warden, a Commissioner, a Judge, and a Treasurer. Without those things, Gotham slowly rots. Simon believes I am one of them.”

“Which one?” Dick asked.

“What do all of them do?” Bruce cut in.

Jason tapped the thicker of his two files. “I took notes on all of them from the information they gave me. The Warden is responsible for sealing away stuff like demons that would harm the city. Basically stuff like what Constantine does when he comes to town, but specifically for Gotham. The Judge is dedicated to justice, usually at the behest of the Commissioner, but he will also cast judgment on the other Cabinet members if they’re corrupt. The Treasurer would probably be best referred to as the Curator instead, as they maintain a collection of all magical artifacts in the city. The Commissioner changes based on what their city needs. In some places it’s probably closer to what Gordon does.” Jason paused, allowing the gravity of his words to settle. “Here in Gotham, they would be focused mostly on corruption and infrastructure. Simon believes that is the role I fit.”

Heavy silence met his words, and Jason forced himself to not fidget.

For a moment the only movement was Babs continuing to take notes, the muted clack ing of the keyboard loud in the silence of the Cave. “That’s why you wanted to wait to talk about infrastructure, I’m guessing,” she prompted as her fingers paused, caught up.

Jason nodded. “I have a few ideas, but it goes beyond just Crime Alley. The Alley needs the most help, obviously, but it doesn’t take a Gothamite to know this city needs help. Apparently one set of rumors said that Gotham is so cursed she came to life. Constantine didn’t know how true it actually was, but if it’s true that she rots when she doesn’t have her Cabinet, it’s likely that things can’t get better until they’re found. The issue comes due to the fact that I only have a suspicion on one of them, which is actually where Tim comes in, and he doesn’t have magic. Which, to clarify, would put a horrific mental strain on someone.”

“Harvey,” Bruce said softly.

Jason nodded. “To be clear, having DID is unrelated. I want all of us to understand that. But Harvey is someone dedicated to justice, and Two-Face started out by serving that justice outside the law. Over time, he’s become more and more like your average mob boss or rogue. Since he doesn’t have a lick of magic about him, the best way to balance that would be to give him a magical artifact for Gotham to work through, instead of his brain. Think of it like Lovecraft, yeah? If I’m correct, Harvey is constantly being prodded by something unknowable.”

A glance around the table showed various expressions of concern and horror.

“You think giving him a magical artifact would help?” Bruce asked cautiously.

Jason nodded, “so do Simon and his father. Of course, without a Treasurer that’s a bitch to figure out, so at first I was determined to find who they are.” He glanced at Tim, who nodded and straightened up.

“Jason’s thoughts were either my parents or Selina, though they don’t really have the same love for Gotham that seems to be a requirement. Selina’s interest also is more about returning artifacts to where they belong than curating a collection, and the actual museum curator lives in Metropolis and commutes to Gotham.” He smiled slightly, “but we realized what we need most of all is a collection of artifacts, and I just so happen to have one of those in Drake manor.”

“And what could we give to Two-Face that he would actually use?” Steph prompted with a grin.

“Are those boxes full of coins ?” Duke gaped at them, and all three grinned.

“I’m so glad it isn’t paperwork,” Dick muttered.

Jason snorted. “We’re gonna have to be careful in case of curses n’ shit, but there’s probably at least one that could serve our purposes. Then it’s just a matter of me giving him a gift, and we wait.”

“How long will it take?” Damian asked with a frown.

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “This is uncharted territory. Usually being a practitioner of magic is a prerequisite. But Gotham was desperate enough to resurrect me, so she probably hasn’t exactly been spoiled for choice. We still need to find the Treasurer, but I was hoping the Warden could be found in the database I assume you have of magic users in Gotham.” He glanced at Bruce.

He nodded, “if you scan in the information, someone can use it to go through the database. My question is how something like that could be confirmed.”

Jason opened the thinner of the two files, spreading the papers on the table. “This is basically a confirmation ritual. If someone isn’t part of the Cabinet, nothing will happen to them, and it announces it as a no-go. If they are, then it confirms their position and from what I understand officially locks them in. By that I mean Gotham will give them the abilities she thinks necessary to assist them in their assigned position. For Simon I’m pretty sure he just became aware of his capabilities as Mayor, but this book has examples that range from practically nothing to powers on the verge of godhood. I doubt it would be that dramatic, since one of those examples was while Atlantis was actively sinking into the sea, and also it should probably be pretty similar to Simon.” Not that Simon’s abilities were to be dismissed. The issue was that a lot of his talents were learned, not innate, which made it difficult to gauge.

Bruce held out a hand, and Jason slid the papers over to him. He blinked down at the words, obviously realizing that while it was in English, that didn’t mean it made sense to him. “Do you trust that it is safe?” He glanced up at him.

Jason nodded, “I read over it the night they gave it to me. It’s safe, legit, and their research is both thorough and good quality.”

Bruce glanced back down at the papers with a frown. “And you… understand all of this?”

Jason coughed, but next to him Steph didn’t even try to hide her laughter. “Yeah, B. It’s just basic magic.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Tim piped up. “Constantine keeps bitching about the fact that being a Chosen One gives him an unfair advantage in studying magic.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, shoving at his brother as he flushed in embarrassment.

Tim cackled, ducking out of the way of his hand.

“Right,” Babs interrupted. “As revelatory as this all is, let’s shelve the other stuff for a later date. For now, walk us through your ideas.”

Jason nodded, opening the folder he had put together.

»§«

Tim watched his brother inspect the cases of coins he had brought over, eyes glowing softly green. He hadn’t expected Jason to have a laid-out long-term plan for city improvement, nor suggestions on how to improve the current programs that Wayne Enterprises funded or was in charge of. He felt a bit bad about that. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Jason had meticulously planned his takeover of Gotham’s underworld to the extent that he had completed it in under a month, while simultaneously enacting psychological torture on Bruce for a good portion of that time. Even his fighting was careful and controlled most of the time, which was why him going off-script while a wolf was at all surprising.

Even this wasn’t something Tim had ever really thought about Jason doing— carefully inspecting each coin and re-sorting them according to how much magic or how cursed they were. If Tim’s dad ever woke up, he’d have a hell of a time explaining why all the coins were rearranged.

Unlike Constantine, whose magic was solely cast through glowing sigils and circles, Jason seemed much more flexible. Some of it was sigils, some of it was pure light, and some was sound based— humming that seemed a little too… much. Tim was pretty sure that versatility was why Constantine was so despairing about it. Jason tugged on the threads of whatever magic system he thought best in the moment, the soft glow of his eyes never faltering.

»§«

When Jason found it, he would readily admit he completely froze. He also very much felt like bashing his head into a wall, but managed to refrain.

He kept his gloves on when he picked up the oddly shiny coin, flicking it off his thumb to send it flipping through the air. Jason opened his palm, shivering as the coin landed in the center, silver side up. It had a set of scales on it, and he felt a whisper of thought brush past, like the call of the void when one stepped too close to the edge of a drop. Luckily, the thought in question was about purging the curses from the coins that had them, something he wanted to do anyway.

“I found it,” Jason said gruffly, turning the coin over to inspect the gold side, which depicted a woman’s head, blindfolded. The two symbols of justice.

Justice is blind, he mused. Part of him wondered if the same urge would have hit him if the coin had come up heads. Looking at the heart and feather on the scale, he had a feeling that there was no world in which the coin would have gone up heads. It made his skin prickle, but not entirely unpleasantly.

“Jesus,” Duke cursed as he looked over. “You sure did.”

Jason arched an eyebrow at him.

“I’m starting to think Gotham herself is who’s following you around,” was the not at all comforting response.

Jason stared at him silently, trying to get across the need for his newest brother to explain without simply screaming.

“She’s, uh, poking the coin. And looking at you pretty expectantly, as if waiting for something.”

Well, only one way to find out. “Since I found what I was looking for, the next thing is getting rid of the curses that I found.” He arched an eyebrow.

Duke blinked. “She seems pleased.”

“This is the most fucked up game of charades I’ve ever been a part of,” Jason said.

“Do I have to pay you?” Tim asked.

Both of them turned, staring at him judgmentally.

“Even Gotham is judging you for that,” Duke informed him. “You’ve had two separate billionaires have custody over you. I’m surprised Jason can even hold a conversation with you without trying to convince you to redirect all of your funds into affordable housing or something.”

“It’s been close,” Jason had to admit.

“Okay, okay, I’ll figure out the standard rate for these things, happy?”

“It’s going directly into my campaign against asbestos in homes,” Jason nodded gravely.

“You say that like any of those buildings are still standing,” Duke scoffed, and Jason laughed.

“Fair, but also you’d be surprised. Anything made of stone’s been around for ages.”

“Like that old ass city records building?” Duke raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a couple others, but yeah,” Jason shrugged. “You’re always welcome, by the way. Hasn’t come up with you like it has for Steph since you’re dayshift, but I thought I’d let you know.”

Duke grinned, lighting up in response to his approval. Jason was pretty sure he was also literally glowing somewhat. Wild.

»§«

“Did you know that February 22nd, 2022, is going to be a Tuesday?” Jason greeted as he climbed through the window of Two-Face’s current office.

“Did you know I have a door?”

“I was raised by Batman,” he defended. “Anyway, I have a gift for you. Think of it as thanks for not trying to put my head on a pike before B slit my throat.”

The rogue stared silently at him for a moment. “Your father slit your throat?”

“In his defense, he was technically aiming for the Joker. In my defense, I didn’t learn that until much later.”

“Batman is your father.”

Jason paused. “I forgot that isn’t common knowledge. I, uh,” he cleared his throat, looking at the two fountain pens on the desk to avoid the stare he was getting. “I was Robin. Got a bit blown up. Crawled outta the dirt.”

“The one the Clown murdered.”

“Yes, that does seem to be my legacy.”

“You’ve always cared about this damned city.” The man sighed, leaning back in his chair. His suit was blue and green today. “Alright, give it here,” he held out his non-scared hand.

Jason pulled the box from his pocket, sliding it across the table. It was one of those fancy wooden ones with a latch— Bruce had given it to him to use. “Old friend of yours gave me the box. No clue if it means anything to you or not.”

Harvey glanced up at him and then back at the box, flicking it open.

Jason smiled behind the helmet as the man paused, obviously not expecting what he got.

“We’ll be damned. This novelty?”

“Stole it from the Drakes,” he told him smugly. “So it’s a genuine artifact. The card is under the lining of the box. Has the provenance and everything.”

He whistled, the sound only half-sharp. “This is a hell of a thank you.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, looking away. “You were the only one in this damn city who wasn’t hunting me down. Also a bit of an apology for that time I hunted you down with homicidal intent back when I was Robin. I… let’s just say I’ve gained some perspective, and you probably deserve a gift basket for that instead.” It was hard to admit or accept that Willis probably deserved to have gotten killed in prison. Jason hated the fact that he still saw him as his father, just like he saw Sheila as his mother. But Bruce was his dad, and Catherine his mom, and both of them had fucked up to an ungodly degree, but they both loved him. Sometimes, he was learning, that was the important part.

Harvey just hummed, the cardstock scrape of paper telling Jason he was pulling out Jack Drake’s item description. Tim’s parents had no idea that any of their artifacts were magical or cursed. While he felt bad for the deception, Jason knew he was leaving Harvey in Lady Gotham’s steady hands. He slipped back out the window before the rogue could decide if he wanted to thank him or not.

»§«

The next time Jason visited Webb’s Market, he had an entourage. He had managed to bribe Babs with the promise of continuing to help her map the city, so most of the Bats were busy in other parts of the city, but she hadn’t managed to distract all of them. Black Bat and Spoiler had been shadowing him the entire trek to the Village, dropping down as he opened the door.

Jason shook his head at them, but held the door open. “The girls have invited themselves,” he told Gus dryly.

The man smiled as they darted into the store, Black Bat lurking in Jason’s shadow as Spoiler started exploring the shelves. “Have you talked to them about it?”

Black Bat nodded. “Family help where we can,” she said softly. “More minds, more connections, better solutions. Faster, too.”

Jason nodded, “I dunno how long it’ll take, but I’m fairly certain we solved the Harvey problem. I owed him anyway. I basically gained access to a treasury without a treasurer, and we haven’t narrowed down potentials for the Warden yet, but B is gonna talk to Z about it.”

“Batman,” Black Bat translated. “Zatanna.”

“Right,” Jason nodded. “She has connections to the magical community that he doesn’t.”

“You’re still open, right?” Spoiler reappeared, arms full of various types of chips.

Gus raised an eyebrow, “that I am.”

“Oh thank god, this would be so embarrassing if you weren’t.”

Jason laughed as she dumped her armful on the counter, stuffing a fifty in the tip jar as Gus tallied her total. Spoiler paid cash, picking up her prizes and heading out the door.

“I’ll be on the roof!” She informed them cheerfully. “Call me if anyone gets stabbed or something cool happens!”

“I, uh,” Jason shook his head to get himself to focus. “I wanted to tell you I looked over everything, and I’ll do it.”

Gus nodded. “Are you free now, or would you prefer some other time?”

“Alley is watched over all night,” Black Bat spoke up. “Now.”

“Right. You know that burned down church outside of town? Meet there. I’ll let everyone know.”

Jason nodded, handing the book and folder back over.

He and Cass picked Steph up from the roof, since a ritual definitely fell under something cool, and the girls hopped on the back of his bike as he rode over, Steph shoving her chips in the saddlebags he usually kept spare helmets or weapons in. He hoped she hadn’t stolen anything from them.

Jason pulled up to the crumbling stone remnants of the church, tensing when he saw the police cruiser. “If they try to arrest me, slash the tires,” he muttered to Spoiler, who gave him a thumbs up.

“ Only if they try to arrest me,” he clarified a moment later. The second thumbs up was much less enthusiastic.

The three of them stuck to the shadows as they approached, Bats down to their bones. Gus was standing off to the side, hands in his pockets as he watched Simon converse with a man with reddish brown hair wearing a trenchcoat, both of them hunched over a book.

“Constantine without depression,” Cass whispered, and Steph choked on the chips she was shoving under her mask to eat.

Jason’s shoulders shook as he suppressed a laugh at the description. “Gordon also has a trenchcoat,” he reminded his sister.

“Glasses,” she shook her head. “Older. No…” Black Bat made a vague gesture, trying to articulate something only she could see.

Laughter drew their gaze before she managed to figure it out, a woman and a teen girl chatting off to the side. They were both smiling, caught up in their own conversation.

“You know,” Spoiler commented around a mouthful of chips. “They’re all civilians. Even Simon. He’s like, halfway to being a civilian. He don’t got the paranoia I don’t think.”

Jason nodded thoughtfully. “He has a lot of responsibilities, but he’s also getting to act his age. I guess one corpse should get to.”

Black Bat smacked him on the arm for that. Jason decided to step out of the shadows slightly, testing their awareness.

The teenage girl caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, looking over only to yelp, flushing as she clapped a hand over her mouth, obviously embarrassed.

Black Bat stepped out from behind him as everyone turned to look, giving the crowd a wave.

“Want some chips?” Spoiler asked, having snuck around to be standing behind the two women, prompting another shriek.

“Spoiler, don’t harass the civvies,” Jason huffed. “Sorry about her, I was only able to distract four of my tails before coming here.”

“Four?” The woman asked in disbelief, dark ponytail swinging as she turned back around to look at him.

He sighed, “all the Bats except Oracle and Signal. I made an agreement with Oracle so she’s distracting the rest of them, and Signal’s dayshift so he’s asleep. Having a family of detectives means they like checking everything out for themselves.”

“Can confirm,” Spoiler nodded, holding out the open bag in offering. Jason could hear her crunching.

The teen girl took a chip, thanking her, and Spoiler visibly lit up in response.

“I’m Rachel,” she introduced, less phased than Jason would have expected. “You’re Spoiler, right?”

“Yup!”

“And Red Hood,” she turned, pointing at him, and Jason gave her a nod. “And… sorry, I know you have Bat in your name, but I can’t remember it,” Rachel winced when she got to Cass.

“Black Bat,” she said softly, signing along with her words. “Was Batgirl. Wanted… something that was just me.”

“Is that sign language? That’s so cool! I’ve been wanting to learn, but they don’t teach it at school.”

“It’s required to operate as a Bat,” Jason spoke up. “It’s part of the Robin Basics, but B makes sure all of us stay fluent.”

“BB has days where language is hard,” Spoiler added. “She can read body language super well, but it came at a cost.”

She shrugged, not countering the sentiment.

“Beth Granger,” the woman introduced after a moment of somewhat awkward silence. “I work as a medical examiner.”

“Huh,” Jason mused. “I wonder if you did my autopsy.”

“It’s worrisome that I’m getting used to those types of statements,” she mused. “If I did, it would be in my files. You would have to give me your name though, which I’m pretty sure is a no-go, and I’m not letting anyone in my files unsupervised.”

Jason snorted. “I don’t need to know that badly. I can just find my autopsy report on the Batcomputer, the name will be on there.”

“I think reading your own autopsy counts as some form of self harm, dude,” Spoiler said.

Jason rolled his eyes, “you’ve seen an autopsy report. All the info is at the top. I probably wouldn’t even have to open the document. Hell, I could get Red to do it for me, he wants to study me anyway.”

“Is this, like, a normal conversation for you?” Rachel asked, eyes wide.

“Yesterday we were talking about the difference between a cabal and a ring,” Spoiler shrugged. “We dress up in costumes to fight crime every night. Hood has like six locked documents attached to his profile on the Batcomputer, one of which is the report on his death.”

“Anyway,” Jason interrupted her. “I’m guessing you’re the one with the cop car,” he turned to the man in the trenchcoat.

“Detective Tom Kirk,” he nodded. “For the record, I’m also undead. Killed on duty, woke up later.”

“Huh,” Jason mused. “Same as me.”

“That depends on what brought him back,” Spoiler pointed out.

“Combination of science and occult practices,” Detective Kirk reported.

“Oh,” she deflated. “You guys aren’t buddies.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only person Gotham herself has resurrected, that ain’t surprising,” Jason shook his head. “Did you seriously get killed while working as a cop and then once you came back you just went back to work?” He asked the more pressing question.

Detective Kirk shrugged, “what else would I do?”

“Fit in well,” Black Bat said, amused. She wasn’t wrong.

Soon enough they were clearing a space on the stone foundation of the church, chalk lines and bowls of herbs placed just so, candles lit soon after.

“It might work better without a mask,” the detective winced.

Jason hummed, and Black Bat scampered over to his bike, bringing his bags over. He disarmed, guns going in the bag as he pulled out a domino, replacing his current mask after putting the necessary charms on it in case he shifted. Actually…

“Both of you stay alert in case of the second newest addition to my file,” he told the girls. They nodded seriously, none of them knowing how the werewolf bit was going to affect the process.

All at once Jason was in the center of the circle, downing a concoction of herbs that he did his best not to taste, closing his eyes as he sat in the center, slipping into a meditation.

He opened his eyes to a blank white space, an abandoned arm chair and side table, like in a study in an old house, in front of him. Somewhere past that there was a door, flickering several different colors at once.

“I did not expect you to end up here.”

Jason turned around, Simon standing behind him. His face was different from when he had first met him, looking almost like himself when he was a child, with dark hair and blue eyes. There were no curls, though, and the shade of blue was wrong.

“Where is here ?” His voice both carried and was muted, the space around them obviously mystical. He was pretty sure time outside this place was no longer moving.

Simon shrugged, “this is where I met my predecessor. There’s no one for you to meet, though, and you have no decision to make. Gotham wants you here, though. I can’t quite tell why.”

Jason closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he tried to figure out the space around them. It felt like a box, sharp edges, in a stream or soft moss. He frowned, mentally running a finger along one edge. If he pushed slightly…

Jason’s eyes snapped open, just in time for the white void to warp, suddenly full of mismatched objects and terrains. “Huh,” he mused, recognizing his spice rack. All of these must be from him, then. Another period of focus had everything organizing, followed by objects disappearing. Eventually all that remained was the couch that forever sat in the library of Wayne manor. Jason crossed to it, sitting down as shelves sprouted around him, row after row of books filling the shelves.

“You read any Poe?” Jason asked, not waiting before he quoted the man. “ Dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared dream before. ”

“ The Raven, ” Simon stated.

“Yeah,” he smiled, then gestured sardonically at the shelves. “ Many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore to be found here.”

“They can’t be forgotten, since they came from you.”

Jason supposed that was true. He wasn’t sure opening any of them would be a good idea, though. “Are they actual books, or will I open one and get sucked into one of my own memories or somethin’?” He asked.

“They look like records.” He pointed. “This one is different, though.”

Jason stood, sliding the black book off the shelf. Ethiopia, the location read. He put it back. “I’d expect so,” he said gruffly. “That ain’t something to peruse.” He let his eyes flick over the shelves, wondering if something important was there for him to look at.

There wasn’t. Not anything other than his death. Jason sighed. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be alone when I open this.”

As soon as Simon was gone, he flipped the cover open.

»§«

When Jason finally opened his eyes in the real world, he could feel them glowing softly. His heart was pounding, and he turned to the side and retched, mouth tasting like smoke. He was shaking.

“Would not recommend that,” he rasped, trying to breathe steadily.

“Okay?” Black Bat asked, sounding anxious.

“Can I leave the circle?”

As soon as he got an affirmative Jason was stumbling out, fumbling with his bag to grab a bottle of water, rinsing out his mouth and spitting in the dirt.

“What was it?” Spoiler asked.

“Had to relive a memory,” he rasped. “Reason I quit smoking.” Sheila, indifferent as she dragged on a cigarette. He shuddered, phantom aches in his bones from blows long since healed.

Spoiler hissed, wincing. She knew what he was actually saying.

I had to relive my death.

“You feel any different?” She asked curiously. “Other than freshly traumatized.”

The laugh that escaped him sounded desperate and terrified. “Gimme a minute.” Jason closed his eyes, doing a breathing exercise and reaching towards his magic. It felt more… solid, for lack of a better term. Instead of being made of light, it was water; pooling around his heart and rushing through his soul, the current strong but not about to sweep him away. Jason was the current, was the rock jutting out in the middle of the rapids, was the bell tied to the buoy next to Inchcape Rock. He was the warning and the death knell, the flash of the lighthouse and the rocks down below.

He opened his eyes, and knew they glowed green.

“Steadier,” he told her. “More substantial. I think I need to take a nap.”

“Home,” Black Bat instructed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Spoiler said the goodbyes for them, getting all the information they would need to write up a report. Jason got on his bike behind Cass, giving everyone a nod as she took off, speeding to the Cave.

That night Jason curled up as a wolf in his father’s lap as he sat at the Batcomputer, one hand absently stroking his fur, and finally felt completely safe for the first time in over a month.

I’m going to be okay.

In the coming days he would notice all the differences from before. He would keep track of Harvey. He would also officially introduce himself to Simon’s friends in a more relaxed context. For now, though, he let his eyes fall shut as he tried his hardest to not spill out of the chair, a mess of limbs and fur that had finally found its way home.