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It's a good night. There have been more of those lately.
They've settled into a routine of patrolling together twice a week – kid's other commitments allowing – and they've made a good team. It was easier for Jason to get stuff done with another pair of eyes, another capable fighter, someone there to watch his back. With someone else around who would do the right thing without the threat of a bullet in his skull, someone he could almost trust, Jason felt a little less like he was the only thing standing between Gotham and the 50-foot tidal wave of evil which perpetually threatened to crash down upon them all.
Not that he was going to tell Tim that. Little Red already had enough of an ego about his detective skills as it was. But he could maybe cut the kid a little slack now and then.
“Hey Red,” he asks over the comm. “Do you want to stop for churros? I could go for churros right about now.”
There's a moment of silence. Too quiet, in fact – not even the soft hiss of breathing. Timbo must have his comm muted.
Then:
“I'm dealing with a situation right now. I'll update you when it's handled.”
Jason's blood chills to ice in his veins.
First there's the stress evident in Tim's voice. He's been a vigilante for over two years now, a simple mugging or car-jacking isn't going to tense the kid up. And if he was talking about that kind of situation, he would have been hushed, trying not to be noticed – or out of breath from fighting. Instead his voice had been loud and clear.
But the most damning thing? Timmy always calls him Hood over the radio. It's a habit straight out of the Bat Communications Protocol Guide – there are normally multiple heroes on the line, so always address your remarks to prevent confusion. The fact that he didn't?
There's someone there with him.
“Do you need back-up?” Jason asks immediately.
“No.” Tim's reply is forceful. “I can handle this solo. Rendezvous in fifteen.”
Someone there with him, but he doesn't want Jason's help. If he was unable to say so directly, they have a dozen different codephrases he could have used, including ones for a Rogue attack or if B ever shows his face in Crime Alley.
So. Either something is wrong that they don't have a codephrase for… or Little Red is trying to protect Jason by keeping him in the dark.
Jason is not exactly thrilled with either option. Fuck it, he's going to head over there. Best case scenario, he gets to watch the kid lay out some hapless lowlifes and then buys him a churro.
And Jason doesn't let himself think about worst case scenarios any more.
#
It takes Jason less than three minutes to reach Tim's location, and an extra thirty seconds to find an approach that provides him cover. The kid is stood on a rooftop, half-hidden in the shadow of a HVAC unit, talking to someone. Talking to a vigilante.
For a second, Jason sees the purple and thinks Batgirl and Babs – but no. There's a new Batgirl now, a new costume and a new adoptee in the Wayne family.
He does know this outfit though. He's made a point of keeping tabs on the players in Crime Alley, and there's only one active vigilante in the area. Spoiler is a local, has done nothing to interfere with Red Hood's business, and has no known Bat affiliation.
Only, Jason is questioning that last point right about now, because Spoiler just batted Tim grumpily on the arm in a way that says these two know each other. From the way Timmy huffs and brushes her off, they're friends, probably good friends.
It's not a surprise that Tim's new identity won't stand up well to anyone who knows him as Robin – their whole strategy has revolved around ensuring that none of the Bats ever get close enough to him to make that connection. But apparently Little Red has been holding back about one of his contacts, and now Jason definitely needs to know what she's going to do with that information.
He stealths his way onto the roof, using a maintenance shed as cover to get within earshot.
“– can not expect me to believe that B is letting you go undercover with a gang lord! And if I thought for a second he had, I would be going to yell at him next!”
“No, don't –” Tim says, too quickly.
“I knew it! This has your fingerprints all over it, Mr Boy Genius 'I Can Think My Way Out Of Anything, Who Needs Common Sense?' Please tell me you at least have the Titans or someone playing backup, or was that comm call as bullshit as everything else you've told me tonight?”
“I have back-up.”
There's a moment of silence, echoing with doubt.
“This is my turf,” Spoiler says. “I know what I'm talking about when I tell you this isn't a game. Red Hood, people like him, they will kill you if you fuck around with them.”
Jason is getting a pretty clear picture of the situation by now. Spoiler is Tim's friend – Robin's friend – and, because she has a functioning level of self-preservation instinct, she doesn't want her friend anywhere near the Red Hood. She thinks he's being reckless, and she's scared enough to rat him out to Team Bat if Tim doesn't defuse this conversation very carefully.
“I know what I'm doing, Spoiler!” Tim snaps.
Jason grimaces.
Spoiler has done nothing to cross him – plus he's pretty sure that, even though this girl has clearly had the growth spurt Timmy is still waiting for, she can't be more than seventeen. So that's most of his usual methods of problem-solving off the table.
Time for a creative approach.
“Hey there!” Jason says, stepping out from behind the shed. “Heard you were talking about me.”
Spoiler ducks neatly into a roll, disappearing behind the HVAC unit. Jason is impressed by her reflexes. Tim folds his arms and glares, because he clearly does not appreciate that Jason is here to save him from the brink of disaster.
Jason leans, casually cocky, against the side of the unit.
“You can come out,” Jason says. “If I wanted to shoot you, you'd already have holes in you.”
That isn't strictly true – Jason generally takes the time to ensure that his victims know exactly what they've done to offend before he revokes their breathing privileges – but it does sound good.
Spoiler's head reappears around the side of the unit. She has a full face-mask under her hood, but her eyes are just barely visible through the visor. Somewhere behind the terror, there's a gleam of that irrepressible vigilante nosiness that comes from being confronted with something unexpected.
“Hood, I can handle this.” Tim is holding himself way too stiffly and trying to make his voice sound deeper, and Jason isn't sure if he's trying to sell the “undercover” story or if he's genuinely worried about how Jason is going to react. “She's just some kid playing dress-up in a cape, she's not a threat to your operation.”
Spoiler's eyes narrow at that. Boy, Timmy really knows how to charm the ladies.
“I can tell she's a kid,” Jason replies, “but she's going to turn into a threat if you spook her badly enough that she runs off to tell the Bat what's going on.”
Tim's look upgrades from “glare” to “glower”.
“What's your plan then?” he snaps.
“I think you should tell her the truth about why you're out here with me.” Not about Jason's identity – Tim's smart enough to pick up the implication there. “I think she can handle that.”
Spoiler's eyes had been darting back and forth between them, clearly considering if she should make a break for it, but as soon as Jason says the word “truth” her attention is laser-focussed on Tim.
Tim grits his teeth and nods.
There's a moment of hesitation.
“I – I don't know where to start.”
Let it never be said that Jason lets an opportunity pass him by. He turns to Spoiler with a little wave, helmet hiding a huge shit-eating grin.
“Hi,” he says. “I'm his experimental phase.”
Spoiler's eyes go as wide as marbles.
Little Red's cheeks flush pink beneath the domino mask.
“Hood –” he protests.
“What?” Jason drawls, faux-innocent. “It's perfectly normal for boys of your age to be curious about moral relativism –”
“You're such a fucking asshole.”
Spoiler watches the two of them with a rapt expression that suggests making popcorn. In her distraction, she's almost completely forgotten about staying behind cover.
“I'm working with Hood,” Tim tells her. “He's a vigilante, I've been helping him. And no-one else knows.”
“Really?” Spoiler asks him. She gestures up and down at Jason: “Really?”
“Hey! There are a lot of benefits to a full-face mask.” He gestures pointedly at Spoiler's own costume.
She narrows her eyes at Jason. “You have… at least seven deadly weapons I can see.”
She's perceptive. He's only openly carrying four. (The total number is in the low thirties.)
Spoiler turns to Tim. “Deadly weapons. Because he murders people. Because he's a crime lord.”
“Name one person he's hurt who hadn't done something to deserve it.”
Spoiler narrows her eyes, but she doesn't answer.
“That's why you were following him tonight, wasn't it?” Tim pushes. “You were curious about him too, wondering if what he does is actually helping people –”
“Or if he's just really good at covering his tracks.” Spoiler shakes her head. “Besides, I'm allowed to be morally bankrupt, I'm not the one –”
She cuts off suddenly, head whipping in Jason's direction.
“Oh yeah,” he says, “Batman and the giant stick up his ass are going to have a field day when it comes out that Robin is moonlighting with a criminal low-life.”
Spoiler's head whips back to Tim, glaring at him fiercely.
“He knows you're Robin???”
“It's a long story –”
“I know things have been rough since the brat arrived but holy fucking shit are you out of your goddamn mind –”
“I thought you wanted me to try going independent!”
“In-dep-end-ent, Robin, it means working alone –”
“You can't tell him.”
The edge of desperation in Tim's voice must cut through Spoiler's shouting, because she falls quiet, breathing hard.
“I promise I have excellent reasons to trust Red Hood, but I cannot tell you what they are.”
He glances desperately at Jason, who shakes his head in confirmation. Spoiler glares at him for that, but he's more than happy to take the blame on this one.
“I also promise that what we are doing is important and it's going to help people. And if you tell Batman before we can do it, it's not going to work. I think if that happened, you'd regret it.”
Spoiler stares at him for several seconds.
“How many lights?” she grunts out.
“Four,” Tim says quickly. Some kind of code-phrase. “Please, Spoiler.”
She jerks her chin in agreement. “Fine.”
“Thank you. I –”
He reaches for her, and she turns away. Jason stops Tim from reaching for her.
“Take a walk. Let her calm down,” he suggests, firmly. “Go buy us all some churros.”
“Dressed like this?” Tim gestures to his Red Shadow gear.
“You're a smart kid, you'll think of something.”
Tim scows at him. He looks about three seconds from cursing Jason out, so Jason shrugs off his leather jacket and thrusts it at him.
“Fine, take it!” he says. “But if you snoop in my pockets, don't blame me if you lose a finger or two.”
Tim slips the jacket on and disappears off the roof. Jason sits down overlooking the edge, and listens to Spoiler pace.
It takes about five minutes before she comes to sit across from him, about ten feet away. He waits or her to speak first.
“Robin is a good guy,” she says. “If he gets hurt because of you, I will destroy everything you have ever done and then cut your balls off with nail scissors. Understood?”
“Understood.” Jason smiles to himself. “You know, I'm glad the kid has a friend like you watching out for him.”
“You mean someone who's actually paying attention?” she asks, flatly.
“And who has half an ounce of common sense.” Jason shakes his head. “I mean, Red is really smart, but sometimes –”
“You wonder how he walks down the street in Gotham without dying?” Spoiler laughs, and they lapse into a companionable silence. Her anger seems to have burnt itself out.
Jason clears his throat.
“Look,” he says. “I'm not a big fan of kids in capes –”
Spoiler's body language is instantly hostile. “Not this shit again…”
“– gimme a chance to finish, would you? Gotham is no place for kids trying to be heroes, but I know that I can't stop you from doing it. And unlike him, I'm guessing you're not looking for company?”
“Please keep a thousand miles away from my work,” Spoiler says.
Jason nods. “But if you ever get in serious trouble, I'm around. I protect Crime Alley, and that includes its heroes. Okay?”
Spoiler looks at him sideways.
“I'll think about it,” she says.
Jason grins. He knows a “yes” when he hears it.
#
“So,” Jason asks, leaning back in his chair. “Who's the brat?”
They're back at base, debriefing after the belated end of tonight's patrol. It's an idle question, but the way Tim tenses up has Jason furrowing his brow.
“Who?” Tim asks, unconvincingly.
“Spoiler said that you've been having a tough time since 'the brat' arrived,” Jason reiterates. “What gives?”
He's picked up, from bits and pieces, that Timmy's family situation is a little complicated. Bruce might be all-but his father, but Jack Drake still technically has custody, whenever he's not busy honeymooning it up with step-mother dearest. Trying to spend time with the biodad is probably a great excuse to get some space whenever Bruce is being a dick, plus it gives cover for Tim to sneak out to Crime Alley at night.
But as far as Jason is aware, there are no kids in that picture.
Tim hesitates, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk.
“You haven't really asked me about stuff at the Manor,” he says slowly. “I figured you did your own research.”
“I did,” Jason says, frowning even more. As far as he knows, the most recent new arrival among the Waynes is Cassandra Cain, who seems far from bratty. “I'm not trying to pump you for information, kid, but if something's wrong…”
“It's probably going to piss you off,” Tim says flatly.
Jason unholsters his guns, emptying the ammo out of each before placing them on the table.
“I didn't mean –” Tim rolls his eyes. “Just – fair warning, okay? How much do you know about Talia al Ghul?”
“She threw me in a Lazarus Pit, dragged me out of Nanda Parbat, and then ditched me.” Jason can already feel the anger rising. That had been a rather memorable day. “Told me she had an urgent matter to deal with, but whatever it was she never came back.”
Jason had been left with several fake IDs, plenty of cash, a dossier on the Wayne family, and next to no idea what had happened to him in the eighteen months since his death. The rest he'd pieced together out of fuzzy half-memories and nightmares, as he returned to Gotham and put his plans into motion.
Tim nods slowly.
“This would have been about six, seven months ago?” he asks.
“Yeah…”
“The urgent task was in Gotham,” Tim explains. “She showed up with a story about how Ra's had turned on her, and she needed Bruce to take care of her most precious possession.”
Jason puts the pieces together.
“She has a kid?” he asks. Tim nods in confirmation. “Fucking hell. Who in the world would –?”
Oh.
Green fills Jason's vision, the world fading out into a wash of emerald. Bruce has a son, a true son, his own flesh and blood. Jason has been utterly replaced, in the one way he can never ever compete with.
“Yeah. He's Bruce's,” Tim confirms. “He's a spoilt little asshole, and he's been training as an assassin since he was old enough to walk.” Tim takes a slow, shuddering breath. “He wants to be Robin. I'm pretty sure the only reason he hasn't tried to kill me for it is because he's literally half my size.”
Jason hesitates for just a moment. He'd been imagining someone around Tim's age, but…
“How old?” he grunts out.
“… Seven.”
Seven. He wants to be Robin. A seven-year-old in a cape.
(Another kid in Wayne Manor, wanting desperately to wear the red and green, never seeing all the darkness that wanted to destroy that bright, shining light.)
Batman is all set to get another kid killed.
Red Hood is not going to let him.
“Jason?” Tim asks.
“We're moving up our timetable. I want the Joker dead.”