Chapter Text
Tim slammed against the wall and slid to the floor, shouting as pain exploded through his body.
His ankle was twisted, cuts littering his arms and sides. A bullet was embedded in his thigh and the wound screamed every time he moved. Blood trickled sluggishly down his face from the cut on his forehead.
Using the wall to prop his head up, Tim looked down the hallway.
The Red Hood stalked closer, knife held loosely in one hand, a gun in the other.
“Come on, Replacement. Don’t run away,” the knife blade glinted eerily in the dim hallway lights as Hood spun it.
“Pl-please-stop-“ Tim’s pleas were cut off as Hood kicked his arm out from under him. There was a snap as Hood’s steel-toed boot collided with Tim’s forearm.
Tim bit back a shriek as he dropped to the ground. Starburst ricocheted in front of Tim’s eyes as pain arched through his body like a lightning bolt. Tears escaped from under his mask.
Hood loomed above him, the helmet’s eyes glowing hauntingly.
“This is really disappointing. I was expecting more screaming.”
Tim sobbed into the carpet. A large hand cupped his head and Tim whimpered, instinctively pressing against the palm. Then, the hand’s fingers dug into his scalp.
Tim’s whimper turned into a sob as Hood dragged his head upwards.
“Oh, Replacement. No need to cry,” Tim could almost see the sneer under the red helmet. He shuddered. The knife glittered in front of Tim’s eyes.
“Tell me, Robin. Which eye do you prefer-“ Hood’s threat was cut off by a concussive boom that shook the building.
Tim was dropped, his vision whitening out momentarily from the shock and pain. When he could see again, he opened his eyes to see Hood, several steps away from him, staring at the figure that had appeared in the hallway next to Tim.
Tim’s breath stuttered.
The figure was young, around Tim’s age. He had warm tanned skin, with dark hair that was hidden by the hood that was pulled over his head, his eyes covered by a green domino. A familiar red tunic covered the boy’s torso, and black pants were tucked into green, lace-up boots. The boy’s hood and cape were lined with gold, the hilt of a sword peeking out from over his shoulder.
A golden “R” was emblazoned on the boy’s chest.
The boy hissed as he stood up from his crouch, a hand pressed to his head. His face was twisted into a small frown.
“Wha-Todd?” Red Hood flinched, his arm moving to point his gun at the kid’s face. The kid didn’t even twitch.
“Todd, what are you doing? Where…” his voice trailed off as he turned and saw Tim, crumpled on the floor with tears and blood trickling down his face.
His eyes widened behind his mask, his jaw tightening.
“Who the hell are you?” Hood snarled, the safety of his gun clicking off.
The kid met Tim’s gaze.
“Run...Ple-please-“
His pleas fell on empty ears as the kid’s face hardened. In a fluid movement, he moved, stepping in between Tim and Hood, unsheathing his sword.
~~~~~
The new kid had guts, Jason could give him that.
The shorty unsheathed his sword with practiced ease. It was a thin katana. Jason had plenty of experience fighting against those kinds of blades. This was going to be easy.
Green fury licked at the corners of Jason’s vision as he glanced down at the golden “R” on the kid’s chest.
“You shouldn’t be wearing that, shorty,” he said, nodding down to the emblem.
The kid snorted and readjusted his grip, “It was given to me and I have made it my own, like all the Robins before me.”
And before Jason could process that, the kid lunged.
He was fast, his blade streaking through the air like a silver whip. Jason holstered his gun and unsheathed another knife.
He caught the kid’s sword between his two blades. But the kid easily kicked off of his chest, withdrawing, before darting forward again.
They traded blows in quick succession.
Jason swiped his blade across the kid’s cheek and cut a gash on his calf. The kid nicked Jason’s side and almost stabbed Jason’s leg. The longer they fought, the more unease trickled into Jason’s gut.
He recognized some of the moves that the kid pulled. The quick jabs and slashes, the moving back before striking, the way the kid kept near the shadows as he drove Jason further down the hallway. And the kid was doing that. He was moving Jason away from the broken Replacement. He was using League techniques to do that.
The kid spun his sword in a move that was all Talia.
It was only because of Jason’s multiple sparring sessions with the Demon’s Daughter that he knew how to twist the move back on the kid, ripping the weapon from his grip.
Talia would have immediately grabbed a knife and stabbed Jason in the thigh if he disarmed her.
Instead, the kid moved with the disarm, throwing his weight towards Jason. His boot hit Jason’s arm. The kid twisted over Jason’s head as he pushed off of Jason’s bicep, throwing himself into the air as he shoved Jason down. Like an acrobat, the kid landed lightly behind him.
Green exploded across Jason’s vision.
What the fuck was that?
It was a strange blend of League of Assassins’ preciseness and the drama expected from Dic- from Nightwing.
He roared, turning to chuck one of his knives. The kid easily dodged, but Jason was furious. As soon as he released his knife, he pounced.
This kid had interrupted his revenge. The Replacement was seriously injured, but he might have been able to drag himself away at this point. Might have contacted Batman. Because this other Replacement had shown up wearing his colors.
The kid shouted when Jason collided with him, Jason’s hand wrapping around his throat. Jason’s other hand trapped the kid’s arm, his knees pinning his body to the ground.
Jason leaned close, green fury snarling hungrily as the kid struggled. “I’m going to gut you like a fish,” he snarled.
The kid froze. The green hissed in satisfaction. Then-
“You’ve definitely done better. That was a pathetic threat, akhi,” the kid croaked around Jason’s grip.
…What?
Jason stilled and stared at the kid.
At some point during their fight, the kid had clicked off the lens hiding his eyes from view. Jason stared into clear, emerald green eyes.
Very familiar emerald green eyes.
He remembered a kid, the child that walked beside Talia, his nose tilted into the air like he was a prince being paraded around. And from the way he was treated, and who his mother was, he might as well have been one.
He remembered watching the child wield the sword with too much proficiency for a 5-year-old. Talia had introduced them, had let Jason spar with him. The child had sneered at Jason with disdain until Talia had scolded him.
(“Hush, Damian. This is your akhi. It is essential that you learn from him.”)
Jason released the kid’s throat and shoved himself backward, the green fury dissolving in shock as Damian al Ghul sat up, rubbing his neck.
“That’s better,” Damian said, clearing his throat.
Jason couldn’t breathe, Pit fury and adrenaline fizzling out of his body as he tried to piece together what was happening.
Damian rose to his feet, his hood falling to his shoulders, better showing his features.
He was too old. Damian should have only been 7 now; this kid’s face was too sharp, his cheeks dotted with faint signs of acne and puberty. He was too tall, gangly but strong. Jason sputtered around his words.
Damian’s eyes softened in sympathy, which was also too different from the harsh glares of the child that Jason knew. The kid approached and crouched next to Jason.
“I’m sorry for the confusion, akhi. But I cannot let you torture Timothy anymore. He may be annoying, but he does not need the pain. He does not need to suffer.”
Fury sparked at the Replacement’s name, and Jason found his voice, ready to snarl and go back to showing the new Robin a lesson.
But Damian was already moving, his knuckle hitting Jason’s shoulder, making his arm numb, as his fingers dug painfully into the back to Jason’s neck.
Black spots exploded across Jason’s vision. His fury dissolved instantly.
He was being lowered to the ground with a grunt of effort. As his vision darkened, he saw Damian leaning over him.
“Forgive me for that, Todd. But it really is what’s best for you. Take care of our ’ae’lah, until I come home.”