Chapter Text
Damian
The first time that Jason saved one of his brothers, after coming back from the dead, neither he nor his brother were aware of it. Jason didn’t know that Damian was Bruce’s son, only knew what Talia wanted him to know which was close to nothing. Damian didn’t know who Jason was outside of his mother’s pet project. In fact, at the end of the rescue Damian tried to thank the stranger, who would someday be known as his brother, with the sharp end of his blade.
Jason hadn’t saved Damian because he cared about him. Jason had saved Damian because he was ordered to do so by Talia and because even while driven by pit-madness he would never allow harm to come to a kid. That’s what Damian was – a child barely 8 years old and so short he didn’t even reach Jason’s sternum. Talia didn’t give Jason much information, simply told him that he was to go to Gotham and begin his ultimate plan of revenge. Silently take over the Gotham criminal world and rise to the ranks before any bat caught wind of the blood his threat would bring. But first, he had to take down a group of Black Mask’s men, men that Damian was sent to eliminate on behalf of some stolen goods that belonged to Ra’s Al Ghul. Damian was an excellent warrior and a skilled child, but he was not adequately prepared for the extent of insanity that was unique to Gotham alone. He was caught off guard by the lack of predictability and hindered by his mothers’ rules that no matter what, despite his training, he was to not kill a single man while in Gotham. He was told that doing so would cause issues for his eventual meeting with his father.
Jason had no such rules. Just ask the souls of the men whose body lay to waste after catching sight of the glinting red helmet he wore.
It was light work for the Red Hood to shoot and slice his way through the warehouse full of goons in knockoff Halloween masks and untied the kid, who looked embarrassed where he hung tied to the Warehouse support beam. His feet dangled off the ground with only thick tight rope keeping him in place. His cheeks burned red at his inability to escape without Hood’s assistance. Once free, the boy was quick to join in removing the remaining threats and eventually tried to get a jab in with Hood himself but was stopped by Talia’s firm demand as he returned to her side where she was flanked by Shadows. Talia nodded at Jason once, a silent goodbye, and then he was alone with the city that raised him and the monsters that buried him.
Tim
The second time Jason saved a bat, he would deny that it was a rescue or that the boy was his brother in anything but name. Jason would insist that he still hated the boy, the Replacement, and that it was a matter of being in the right place and the right time for completely selfish reasons. In some ways it was true, as he was already planning a mission that involved this little squad of Two-Face’s that had the gall to cross over into crime ally. Does it matter that his original mission was going to happen 3 days from now and the only reason he escalated his timeline was due to hearing that a little birdie got caught? No, that wasn’t reason…It was pure coincidence. If asked, he would say that nobody got to kill the replacement before him.
Regardless of reason, Jason had broken into the bar and shot his way to the basement earlier than planned with only his two trusty guns, a handful of blades, no backup, and no plan. There was no need for him to hide in shadows any longer now that Batman and gang were well aware of his existence. It had been months of being chased with failed attempts at both emotional manipulation (see: “Jason, please come home” as Batman/Bruce tried to corner him on a rooftop) and capture for his endless crimes (see: “Hood, stand down before I make you” by Bruce who had just punched Jason so hard it made stars dance across his vision, but didn’t manage to knock him down before he was running again). It seemed that Bruce was still the only one truly aware of the Red Hood’s true identity and that therefore he had kept that bit of information to himself. Not that Jason cared, because honestly it made it easier to evade Batman alone instead of his whole flock of lost birdies.
Nightwing was still in Bludhaven most times, Oracle was trying to track the Red Hood which she knew little to nothing about and Jason had ensured to keep himself as offline as possible both in and out of the hood, Damian was newly introduced and therefore has been locked away in the big tower like a secret, and Robin has only ever come across Red Hood twice and each time it was with Batman. Batman, who was eager to keep them as separated as possible and tried to ensure that he gave away nothing – wouldn’t want the new Robin to be aware of the true possibilities his future may hold, such as death and reincarnation and mass murder. Jason had made sure the replacement knew he was not liked and that the Red Hood personally hated him. Because he did. He hated that a child, short and skinny and obviously in need of more love and sleep, was wearing a rendition of the same suit that Jason once was beaten to death in, alone and scared and well aware that he was going to die. He hated that the replacement felt more like a memory and that memory was taunting him with the endless possibilities of what horrors could be bred that Jason couldn’t stop. Horrors like the still living and laughing Joker, just a 10-minute drive away. Horrors like Two-Face, who had once killed a man that Jason knew as his father even if he didn’t act like one.
The same Two-Face that had just flipped a coin as Jason blew the brains out of the last goon between him and his goal. Whatever it was apparently meant “Yes, shoot the very evident child playing superhero while tied to a chair unable to defend himself” because Two-Face ignored Jason, too driven by impulse, in favor of lifting his gun to Robin and cocking it. Jason didn’t hesitate to throw the knife, accuracy long since instilled in his bones from when the blade was a batarang, and the gun went flying from the madman’s hand. The punch, a strong right hook, landed with controlled precision and the man went limp with unconsciousness. Jason didn’t bother to spare him more energy, instead turning (worriedly but again, denial is key) to the boy. His brother in title, who should be in school right now and not in a basement that reeks of mold and stale beer.
They had removed the domino, is the first thing that Jason registers, because it’s a big deal. Its not common, almost like goons and rogues all have a silent agreement that they don’t really want to know who the vigilantes are and rather prefer to pretend they do. Not this time, it seems, because the domino has been ripped off and replaced with a blindfold to keep him from seeing them. Pale skin was even paler, stark in contrast to the bright red of blood that cakes his broken nose and runs down busted lips. Purple bruises are growing darker and there’s dried tear tracks, though the kid does well at pretending to be unaffected. The fear is evident to the trained eyes of Jason, the slight hitch in breathing and shaking of fingers (the ones not broken). Just from a glance it was clear the boy likely had a concussion, four broken fingers, a strained wrist, abrasions to the forearms from a blade, and his ankle sat at a weird angle. His arms were rubbed raw from the rope as well. Not horrible for a vigilante, but horrible for a teenage boy the same age Jason was when he was once left in the hands of a madman with an affinity for violence.
Jason shakes the thought off, no time to dwell on the similarities when there was a broken birdie in his hands. Jason found himself unable to revive that bitter anger towards Tim at the sight of that fearful tremoring and found himself wishing he could retrieve it. It would make it easier, to kill Two-Face in front of him and then cut the ropes just enough that the kid could crawl off on his own and Jason continues on his way as if nothing had happened. Instead, Jason sighs deeply and removes his helmet, thankful he hasn’t spoken and scared the kid with the knowledge of who he is. Jason turns the helmet off, to ensure the sound was off and the camera so the kid wouldn’t hear the gunshot or see the carnage. Because Tim is Robin and Robin can’t see this much death and walk away without guilt, even if those dead were child trafficking drug lords. Jason could take that off his shoulders.
Jason was also glad the kid didn’t know his voice, “Easy there, little bird, I gotcha.”
“Wh-“
“No speaking,” Jason stated, not allowing there to be room for argument because Jason was pretty sure the kid’s throat was damaged from the bruises around his throat. “Look, kid, I’m going to put this helmet over your head and you’re not gonna be able to hear or speak or whatever. Hey! Chill, it’s this or the whole word gets to see your face the second you walk out.”
It was asking a lot, Jason knew. A lot to request for a kid to trust a stranger and willingly make himself more vulnerable that he already was. But ultimately, he knew the kid would accept because Jason’s voice was purposely soft and evidently young, and this stranger just saved him from a gang of armed criminals and hasn’t touched him. So, when Tim nodded after his stretched moment of hesitation, Jason took it as permission to gently place the helmet (it was large on the smaller kid’s head) on and to cut through the rope wrapped around him. He helps the kid up and has him stop at the doorway, turning and quickly and firing a bullet into the rotten side of Two-Face’s head before continuing on as if he didn’t. Glad the kid didn’t hear it. When they got outside and safely into the shadows of a rooftop, Jason took the helmet off the kid and replaced it with the power intact. He looked at the boy as he came to take his blindfold off, not sure whether to laugh or cry at the sheer confusion and fear that flooded blue eyes (because Bruce has a type) as they settled onto the Red Hood.
“But-“
“Shut the fuck up kid, unless you want to ruin your vocal cords forever,” Jason sneered as if it was threat and not concern. “I already knew who you are, just ask the big B man. Now go crawl back home to daddy.”
“Others?”
Jason hesitated at the croaked question, toes hanging on the edge of the roof before he sighs loud enough for the modulator to pick it up. “They saw your face, kid.” A beat. “Now it won’t be a problem.”
Tim’s face flickered down to his guns and the dried blood covering Red Hood’s gear that was clearly not his own. Jason didn’t allow himself to stay long enough to decipher the emotions on the boy’s face, instead accepting that regardless of the boy’s perception that Jason had no regrets. The wind whistled as he flew off the roof while dangling by the grappling hook.
Dick
In the case of his next rescue Jason would argue that it wasn’t a rescue so much as it was his own escape that happened to also include his brother. Months had passed since the interaction with Two-Face and somehow the whole family had come to learn that Red Hood saved Tim and Red Hood was Jason. Jason as in believed to be buried and legally deceased Jason Todd, former Robin and adoptive son of Bruce Wayne. Because apparently Tim took him seriously when he said to talk to Bruce and more surprisingly Bruce told everyone the truth. This led to a whole bunch of mania in which all the bats and birds now seem to think that this accidental incident in which he happened to free Tim while on his mission meant that Jason was good, deep down inside, and that therefore he should obviously be a part of their little family.
So really, its Tim’s fault that Jason and Dick were in this situation in the first place.
Jason had only agreed to work with Dick on a case involving Poison Ivy because Dick and Tim kept chasing Red Hood all over the place, breaking into his safehouses, and overall being a nuisance. They tagged along, sometimes together sometimes separate, despite his threats and anger and overall violent nature. Most the time they just talked, about school or work or life as a whole. They asked questions, but never got upset at the lack of a real response. They joked and laughed, but never overstepped the delicate balance being held that was unspoken. The unspoken saying that Jason wasn’t really mad and wouldn’t actually hurt them, but if they overstepped then they had to accept it and try again after a few days of space and groveling. Jason would deny that for the first time in years, since he wore the bright reds and yellows and greens of a robin, Jason felt like he had brothers. A family, almost.
Jason’s good at denying and arguing facts, despite knowing they’re true.
So here they were trapped in a green house with man-eating plants without backup and a dangerous glint in Ivy’s eyes as she looked at them. Dick was tied up against the glass walls, stretched out like a big starfish caught in a net. He had managed to slip out of every other restrained position she had him in before, such as the one Jason sat casually in against a chair made of wood and vines. One little forced kiss by ruby red lips (that Jason has every intent of punching hard enough that any kisses in the future will be prevented) and Dick was under her influence, not even bothering to struggle anymore. Jason almost laughed at the fact that once again Dick was under the love spell of a powerful dangerous red head, which is just his type.
However, despite the irony of the situation and the lack of fear in Jason, he knew it was therefore up to him to get them out of this sticky situation. Jason’s helmet sat firmly in place and therefore no mind controlling kiss, hypersexual love pollen, or any other weird little concoction of Ivy’s could influence him. Luckily Jason was a planner (and he would deny that Bruce had a large factor in the creation of that habit) and therefore had made other arrangements before this mission should they be found in this particular position. Because Jason plans and has long since learned that expecting the unexpected is a must and that sometimes, maybe most times, Batman would not be on time to save them. But Jason could save himself… and maybe Jason could save others too.
“Hey Ivy,” Jason called out, pulling her attention away from her infatuation with his older brother. “Sorry to interrupt and all, but I have some news that you may be interested in… Nothing big, really, just something to do with your plants.”
Ivy hissed a sigh and dragged herself away from Dick, languidly crossing the warehouse as if walking like she’s trying to seduce someone at all times was the only way she knew how to walk. Jason was silently hoping she could trip over herself but accepted that she never had. Instead, he looks at the timer ticking down slowly on the inner screen of his helmet, smirking to himself and wishing she could see it if only because he finds it funny when her green skin gets dark with rage. The shade difference was not flattering for her. The timer was previously set to 20 minutes, the most amount of time Jason would give for a potential rescue before making his own, much more dangerous attempt.
“Speak.”
“Ask nicely.”
The vines wrapped around him tighten almost painfully in threat, “Speak or ill feed your brother one of my plants and force you to watch as it forces it’s way out of his stomach, boy.”
“So you like the movie Alien, huh?” Jason snips but concedes, nonetheless. “I just thought you might want to know some details you seem unaware of. Nothing big, really, but important if you care…and I think you’ll care. See, when Nightwing over there had the genius idea to go two on one with a plant controlling mind manipulating madwoman, I had anticipated this may happen. So, hypothetically speaking, I may have therefore put in some safeguards in the form of a highly flammable and deadly-to-plants chemical pesticide mix which I slipped into your water system. The same water system you’ve been using to water said plants for the last 20 minutes or so between your creepy flirting with the hypnotized idiot you seem so obsessed with.”
Nightwing smiled from where he hung, “She’s so pretty”.
Ivy ignored him and hesitated a moment, looking at Jason as if she could somehow see past the Red Hood and see if he was being honest. “Impossible, I would have felt it by now,” Ivy insisted, though her bright green eyes traced over the greenhouse. Thick condensation and went soil surrounded them, green leaves dripping fresh water to add to the mix. She hesitated, considering who she was working with. If this was Nightwing or even Robin, she would’ve known it to be false… but the Red Hood has committed far deadlier crimes for much lesser reasons in the past. “I could kill you”.
She hesitated long enough for the last few seconds to slip by on the timer until it hit zero.
“Shouldn’t have hesitated, Greenie,” Jason spat before he slid the lighter from where he hid it in his gloves and lit it before tossing it aside and watching will glee as it caught on the nearby plants (luckily the ones not wrapped around him). Quickly the flames caught onto the rest of the poisoned water and began rapidly spreading, smoke filling the air alongside Ivy’s screams of pain. Jason would’ve felt bad but a woman shoving her tongue down his big brother’s throat against his will was as good as scum on his foot and he would’ve caught her on fire too if not for their rapidly growing time restraints.
Because this was a failsafe that left Jason and Dick trapped in a greenhouse of highly flammable toxic plants burning rapidly. Jason had a helmet that could filter the smoke relatively well, but only for a few minutes and not considering the fact that this smoke was also chemical in nature. Dick was vulnerable and too dazed to be fully capable of grabbing his rebreather and escaping. Jason gritted his teeth and strained against the vines, ignoring how most had hundreds of thorns like needles that punctured his skin deep enough to meet bone, until the vines broke. Bleeding and coughing, Jason dragged himself up and bit back a curse as his pants caught fire. There was no time to put it out and his skin was beginning to blister and burn, so why bother when there were still flames in his path.
Minutes passed like hours as Jason cursed and screamed his way through the pain of needles and burns and aching lungs as he cut his way to his brother. The seconds ticked by slower and slower as everything grew hotter and more painful, especially as he cut dozens of plants thicker than his arm that held Dick up. Up, away from the flames luckily, but not enough to protect him from the rest. Jason threw the unconscious man over his shoulder, biting his tongue so hard it bled from the blinding agony the new weight added to his already aching body, and then Jason ran.
Away from the flames and smoke and smell of his own blood and burning flesh. Away from the garden and the bright streetlights. Away from the ground as he went up and up, dozens of stories, holding onto his brother and his grappling hooks. Jason kept running because if he stopped then he would drop Dick and he would drop himself and Jason wasn’t in the state to get back up. Not until they were safe and away from all the bullshit. Because Batman didn’t come, and Bruce wasn’t safe, and the streets of Gotham were filled with vile cruel monsters that exist in her many shadows. Which meant it was up to Jason and Jason alone to get them somewhere where Dick could rest without being swallowed up by the next wicked criminal and Jason could collapse without worrying that Dick would be vulnerable without him there. It could take hours for Dick to break free of the spell or whatever. The second Jason touches down inside the nearest safehouse (still 5 miles from the greenhouse), he lays Dick on the couch and pulls off the man’s mask to prevent irritation before the pain from the bullshit swallows Jason up and he crashed to the ground not two feet away.
Damian
The next time Jason saves Damian it was with the knowledge that Damian was his brother and also a little shit. Because this time Jason had to admit that he was maybe technically actually trying to rescue his brother. Because Damian had run off in a fit due to being grounded by Bruce for putting a man in a coma (funny considering that Batman has put over two dozen people into coma’s before) during their last operation. So, Damian did what he always does which is sulk until sulking doesn’t work then he took matters into his own hands and decided to un-bench himself. So, the demon brat snuck out of the Manor and past the safeguards and right into the hands of the goddamn Riddler.
Jason hated and sucked at Riddles.
Luckily, anyone who is okay with not being the smartest man in the room or best detective of all time (aka anyone that isn’t Bruce and Tim) knew the real way to get to the Riddler without playing into his games was by force and intimidation. Riddler’s riddles were never sane and therefore meant that there were a thousand and one things that it could be in order to find the real answer. However, the man was also a scrawny egomaniac desperate for attention but also incapable of throwing or taking a punch. The Red Hood was very good at both of those. So, using his influences around the criminal underground that he technically was still running, Jason managed to punch his way into the answer while Tim and Bruce were tracking down green question marks with the hope of putting together a puzzle that told them the answer instead. He managed to break into the house and find the green suited man and the unconscious-but-soon-to-be-very-angrily-conscious 10-year-old boy that he has come to accept as his little brother. Later, after it was all done with, Jason would learn from Tim that the house used to belong to the mother of the first victim’s dirty lawyer who killed himself three weeks prior in a park where the new Robin, aka Damian, had first been seen by the public with Batman. It still didn’t make much sense to Jason, even after it being explained.
It had been 4 months since the encounter with Ivy that left half of Jason’s legs burned, his lungs weak with smoke inhalation, and his body covered in hundreds of puncture wounds from needles. In those 4 months Tim and Dick had insisted (aka forced) Jason into staying with Dick as he recovered after Dick woke 2 hours later to a half dead Jason. During that time, Jason admittedly spent most of his downtime with demon spawn because Tim had school (Damian had only been with Bruce around a year and therefore was leveraging his time as much as possible to avoid in-person school) and Dick had to work (as a donut eating cop of all things). At first their time together was full of hostility and cruel snarks, primarily from the boy, but they had warmed up to each other to the point that Jason prefers his company to the others, though he’d cut off his own foot before admitting it to the brat. They both had a lot in common in terms of training, connections to the League, and their preference for a book or drawing over human company.
In other words, its safe to say Jason didn’t pull his punches even if he had to not kill Riddler. It was part of the “rules” that he had been mostly abiding because he was well aware of the fact that the only reason he was able to see Damian, or the others, was because Bruce allowed it. The only reason Bruce allowed Jason to have this delicate sense of family was because so far Jason was following the rules. It was an unspoken but well-known ultimatum – you follow the rules, or you have no family. And if Jason was being honest, his brothers were the only thing keeping him from turning his guns on himself and crawling back into the hole he came out of. The only reason Jason was able to breathe despite the knowledge that Joker was not even half an hour away, laughing and breathing and able to escape at any moment despite the alleged “upgraded security” Arkham had in place.
Damian was still unconscious, likely drugged, but uninjured when Jason picked him up. The boy was so small in his arms, a thought that Jason frequently has though he has long since learned better than to voice it. Damian’s cheeks still had youthful fat in them and even asleep he was frowning. It only served to remind Jason how young Damian was. His 10th birthday had just passed around a week ago. While Jason’s stomach stirs at the thought of what could’ve happened to Damian tonight, it unclenches slightly at knowing that at least Damian had a family who loved him and would always come after him. When Jason was 10, all he had was a dead mother and deadbeat dad and the streets that were always too cold and too harsh. Jason huffed and kicked the green man one more time, knowing that Batman would be likely here in less than five minutes to arrest the man, and Jason wanted to be gone by then. So he hauled the boy with him and headed to Dick’s apartment again, radioing Oracle to let her know Robin was safe and Riddler was alive (she was nice enough not to voice her surprise).
The Trio
The next time Jason is undeniably saving his brothers, even though it might mean he doesn’t make it to the other side. He admits it’s a rescue because nothing short of his brother’s safety would get him to willingly throw himself into the path of his greatest fears, risking not only his life but his sanity. Because this time Jason is the only choice, and this time Jason has no option but to be on time. Because Bruce is off world and Oracle is in a wheelchair and the Joker…The goddamn Joker played the bats like a goddamn violin and now he has all three of them. All three of their lives in his hands as he puts on a show, laugh mixing in with the blood and the circus music. And its one thing to go against Black Mask (now deceased), Two-Face (also deceased), Poison Ivy (Arkham), or even the Riddler (ICU at Gotham General). It’s a whole other to go against the ruler of madness himself, the killer of men, women, children, and Robin’s himself.
As always Joker broke out of Arkham, less than 24 hours after Batman is off world. As always, he broke out and he killed as many people as needed to ensure that the boys would fall into his trap. Joker only planned for the three because why would he need Red Hood when he doesn’t know Red Hood was a Robin too. No, the Joker knew that the three little birdies wouldn’t be able to resist coming for him and he was ready when they did. Before this, upon the initial news the madman had broken out, Jason had found the deepest darkest hole in Gotham and threw himself away in it. Jason had done everything he could to ensure that he was locked away to never be found by that cruel laughter, fighting away his own memories in a haze with moments of lucidity peaking through between his disassociation episodes and sleep. But of course, Oracle found him – and told him the worst thing she ever could’ve. She told Jason that Joker had his brother’s and that he was the only one capable of stopping him.
He said yes, of course. He agreed because he knew it, and she knew it. Knew that nothing, not even his biggest nightmare and worst fear, could prevent Jason from saving his brothers no matter what it would cost him.
Barbara just didn’t know how much it would end up costing them all in the end. They wouldn’t find out the true cost of this night until many weeks after it ended.
Joker wanted them to be found, as if somehow, he expected Batman (who he was obsessed with) to somehow find out the birds were captured and return to the planet in less than a day. He left their trackers on, though it was unnecessary considering Joker took them to the only place in Gotham that everyone knew was Joker’s property – Joker’s Amusement Park. It had many names over the years, Joker’s Funhouse, Joker’s Playground, or even Joker’s Park. The place was usually vacant the majority of the year when Joker was pretending to play nice while he remained in Arkham, but occasionally one of Joker’s Thugs would throw a party. No citizen or officer would come close to it, regardless of circumstances. Normally the same would go for Jason since the park was practically a physical landscape of all things Joker.
Oracle was able to get some eyes in the sky with bat-drones while Jason was enroute, enough to be able to locate each person and the amount of thugs Jason would need to get through (the without killing being unspoken but heavily implied with her rundown) before he could get hands on the madman himself. There would be 10 henchmen between Jason and Dick where Dick was dangling by handcuffs from the top of the Farris Wheel that sways heavily in the gusty winds, 12 more leading to Tim who has been spinning on the man-sized wheel of unfortune (which entailed a bunch of thugs throwing different items at the wheel like a dart board), and 8 to Damian who had been repeatedly dunked into a tank full of some sticky black goop when a henchman makes their shot. Oracle stated Damian seemed to be struggling to regain his breath and is tied so that swimming to the surface is nearly impossible, Dick’s hands are bleeding from the cuffs and his arms may be dislocated, and Tim was bleeding from a few knives and darts that the men managed to land.
Joker was distracted between playing their games and the others, most taken with the Mary go Round in which he has strapped 10 citizens to for the last 2 hours without stop, occasionally attempting to shoot them while he rambles to the camera, he has filming live (the citizens were apparently a last-minute catch as they were with the news and strayed too close to the chaos). Jason could hear the man’s laugh from where he was, high above and planning the best way to enter without being captured. Killed, he could handle, but he would slit his own throat before allowing Joker to get him back in his grasp. The laugh echoed inside Jason’s head hauntingly, making it feel like his bones were steel and he couldn’t move without sinking. It would be easier, Jason nearly begged, to kill them. It would be better and safer for everyone.
But killing any one of them, even the Joker, would mean losing everything. Losing the people he was about to throw himself into a pit of fire for. Because his brothers wouldn’t accept it and wouldn’t forgive it, Bruce taught him that already. Taught him that this family came with ultimatums.
Jason has known since the day he was born that loving him came with conditions.
So, despite his shaking hands, his breath tight and never quite enough, and his heart beating rapidly from a mixture of fear and anger-based adrenaline, Jason walked confidently forwards and into the snake’s pit. He tried to no draw attention to himself, though stealth wasn’t an option when there were hundreds of lights all around and inside the park. He grabbed his dart guns and tried to make quick work of neutralizing as many men as possible before being seen, though after the third man drops during his path towards Dick the attention was grabbed. On the bright side, Tim and Damian were being left alone with Tim’s wheel even slowing to a stop. Joker had still been too distracted to see him, but a henchman of his made sure to yell out “Boss!” and suddenly it was 27 henchmen and the Joker against 1 nineteen-year-old kid with 2 dart guns and a few knives. Also 2 real guns that he isn’t supposed to use (at all) lethally.
“Fuck,” Jason growled as the closest three henchmen ran after him and fists began flying. “Fucking hell, you owe me so fucking much O.”
“Jason-“ Oracle’s voice had disappeared and the wavering of his name was all Barabra. She was worried. No, not worried… She was scared. Because the henchmen didn’t stop with the three and wait, but rather more came in and joined the fight.
“Find a way to get the cops here and to get Nightwing off that goddamn wheel,” Jason ordered in the small pockets of time he had between punches and kicks and groans.
Jason’s skills would’ve normally made taking on this amount of people realistic, even easy if he had more cover and was able to be stealthy. But Jason’s legs are barely recovering from the burns, his muscle mass had depleted over the time, and he didn’t have time to access to the Bat Cave for more equipment that what his safehouse had. His martial arts and physical fighting capabilities outweighed the henchmen tenfold, making it easy for Jason to break bones and burst blood vessels. But Jason was going up against henchmen of the craziest killer in Gotham, all of whom were brandishing weapons ranging from baseball bats to tire irons to guns and knives. Jason felt the crushing of his ribs as a tire iron impacted with them, throwing him off enough for a blade to be driven into his thigh, and then he barely managed to duck in time for the bullet to go into his shoulder instead of his chest.
Agony so bright he couldn’t see and couldn’t help but yell. He pulled himself back, giving trying to buy time to recover. Faintly he heard a woman’s voice calling his name, worried and scared, but he couldn't focus. His eyes managed to focus on only one thing, and it was the wicked smile on Joker’s face as he laughed wickedly at the sight of the Red Hood. Suddenly the pain and the fear didn’t matter. Rage, burning hot like green acid, rushed through his veins and his body, and pushed back the pain of the unknown number of wounds and broken bones. All there was to feel was pure rage and everything else became a blur.
Jason came out of the blurred daze of pit madness standing over Joker with a gun to his head. The henchmen were still alive, only known because of the scattered sounds of groans and cries from pain. Joker himself looked no better. His legs were bent in all the wrong ways, so was his right forearm though his left was bleeding down to crooked fingers. His pale white face had smeared makeup behind a mount of bruises and cuts. Despite all this, he was smiling and laughing as if watching a comedic movie. As if his own potential demise, staring down the barrel to the Red Hood, was the funniest and greatest thing to ever happen to him. Between his laughs he spoke, begging the big bad Hood to “Do it! Do it, Kill me, you know you want to!” His teeth were red with blood and his laugh wheezy like his lungs were filled with liquid, but he continued his slimy taunts.
Jason stood there, hand unwavering, and looked at the monster that has haunted his nightmares and destroyed his dreams every single minute of every single day for the last 4 years. Jason became more aware of his injuries as he stood there listening, watching, hoping to be free from the creator of his agony. Jason was certain his right ribcage was shattered, he had three other bullet holes somewhere between his abdomen and thighs, his left arm laid limp and broken, two fingers on his right hand were broken (not enough to prevent him using the gun), and he felt blood leaking from him in so many spots he wasn’t sure where they began, and he ended. Adrenaline and fear were the only things keeping him from collapsing. Fear was the only thing that kept him alive because it’s the only thing that’s kept him alive everyday since he crawled from his grave. No… Everyday since he could remember.
“Don’t do it, Hood,” Dick said, voice and presence making Jason jump. Because somehow Barbara did find a way to get him down and the reds and blues of cops arriving were beginning to flicker into view. Dicks right arm was dislocated, his wrists raw and blooding, and he was hunching like in pain. Despite all this, he spoke “He’s down, Jason. The cops’ll take him back to Arkham. So, drop the gun and let’s go.”
Jason wanted to cry. Because of course, of course! After everything, all the pain and blood and the endless unwavering brutality of this killer didn’t matter. The fear so thick and overwhelming Jason felt it seeping into his marrow and leeching the life from him didn’t matter. The fact that this was just one time but there would be another because there already has been. Jason’s death and life and everything doesn’t matter. The fact that Damian and Tim were barely holding on to consciousness and would now be another list of children who were left with never ending nightmares fueled by a laugh and smile didn’t matter.
Nothing matters more than their goddamn code.
Not even Jason.
So, Jason lowered the gun, even though doing so felt the same as if he were the one being thrown into Arkham for the rest of his life, and he threw one last punch to knock the criminal out. Jason swallowed his cries and blinked the tears from his eyes and bit his tongue to prevent himself for screaming in endless anger and frustration. Instead, he holstered the gun and said nothing as he limped to cut Tim free. Bit his cheek to hide his groan of pain as he lifts the teenage up and helps him stand, leaning against a light pole. Jason remained quiet behind the red of the cracked helmet as he pulled Damian free and carried him, the boy too tired from repeated drowning attempts to even argue. Jason complied with the orders and protected his brothers without hesitation because Jason was weak. He could handle the Joker and the wounds and fighting over 20 people, but he couldn’t handle losing his brothers. It was the one thing on this earth that he could not afford to lose anymore.
The batmobile arrived around then, the one large enough for all of them. Jason placed Damian in the back with Dick and helped Tim into the passenger seat. He kept repeating a mantra in his head, the only thing he could think that would be louder than his own pain. No more dead robins, Jason thought over and over as he typed the manor’s codes into the batmobile, Oracle in his ear telling him Alfred and Leslie were already there and waiting. Once they were all situated, Jason removed himself from the car, having input the coordinates and override, and closed the door before his brothers realized what he was doing. The car took off and Jason began his own limping journey to a deep dark pit that he could hide away in, so deep that not even Tim or Oracle would be able to find him this time.