Chapter Text
If Jason had to be honest, and he was trying to be more honest in his own damn head, then this was exactly how he thought the Batfamily secret might get out. Well, maybe not his top guess, but definitely in the top ten.
Jason watched Nightwing tap his pen against the table in a steady but slowing pattern, the man’s face smoothing out in a way that meant he was putting on his best I-am-calm face. The one that wasn’t meant for soothing civilians or convincing teammates he had everything in control, but instead was covering an ever worsening storm of anger.
Troia and Kid Flash were watching Nightwing warily but Jason could tell they were more reading their old friend’s body language than actually understanding what was wrong. Barbara was probably the only one, other than Jason of course, that would really recognize Dickie’s expression.
Dick had worked very hard to get his temper under control over the years. Hard enough that even the other Bat Brats didn’t quite have a true feel for its edges and depth. When Jason came back, never-ending rage swirling through his veins as much as blood, Jason had managed to find an extra degree of fury at Dick’s ever-present smile and calm support. Jason had remembered Dick’s anger and found it no end of aggravating the man had somehow stopped getting angry entirely while Jason was drowning every damn moment.
And then Damian had been kidnapped by the Joker while everyone else was out of town. Dick had stopped smiling. Dick and Jason had rescued the kid and put the Joker in traction and then Arkham. Dick and Jason had waited until Damian was with Alfred upstairs and cuddling with his animals before having a knockout, no-holds bar screaming match in a Batcave that mysteriously lost all its security feed for the evening.
They hadn’t fought physically, despite the wary looks of Alfred, Damian, and even the dog, Titus the next morning. Jason had still been at the Manor for breakfast and Dick had his hand wrapped in a new bandage. Not that Jason wouldn’t have been willing to fight. Dick always gave the best fights when he was working through something in that over-complicated head of his, when he wasn’t thinking about training or protecting or whatever fucking else. But he’d been afraid. He’d been afraid to fight Jason in anger.
And wasn’t that a fucking realization.
So there’d been some yelling about taking Jason seriously, some screaming about Golden Boy expectations, and a whole lot of accidental confessions. Like the idiot’s guilt-complex for letting Jason see all of Dick’s previous fights with Bruce back when Jason was still Robin (as if Jason didn’t understand fighting with Bruce).
There’d also been a few tears and a surprisingly frank conversation about Jason being Dick’s replacement and Dick being Bruce’s, both emotionally and in the Batsuit. And an explanation of the time Dick killed the fucking Joker, which had been news to Jason (and still filled Jason with the deepest possibly sense of what the actual fuck).
Despite staying the next morning, Jason hadn’t been able to look his brother in the eyes for a week. A week that would have probably been longer but Dick had shown up in Jason’s warehouse with pizza, beer, and a rant about something stupid the Titans had done. And then Jason showed up at Dick’s apartment with Pit Rage roaring in his ears, the remains of a human trafficking ring in the treads of his boots, and a takeout container full of tacos. Dick brought fucking cupcakes the week after that and actually complained about something Damian had done. It had been a small thing, but a thing that Jason knew would be the last if he’d turned it into a joke to tease the boy or if any of the Bat Brood heard a fucking inkling of, ever.
Jason had never had more respect for Damian, actually, and his habit of taming feral animals. Jason had somehow become one of the only people that Dick actually showed his anger to (surely Barbara was included, surely she saw), was one of the only people trusted with that rage. And Jason felt like feral cat would be easier to handle than his fucking big brother who wouldn’t simply hiss and leave, but would instead fly away like a magician-trained parakeet and start saying all the words he didn’t mean with a mask of perfect feathers.
Jason didn’t want that, surprisingly. Grudgingly.
So. Jason knew rage. Jason knew Dick’s rage. Jason knew his big brother was about to blow a fucking gasket.
And no one else had a gods-damned clue. Not even the few Titans present with their shifting feet as they hovered around Nightwing’s back. Not even the remains of the Justice League arranged on the other side of the table. Not even the Outlaws spread loosely around Jason.
To be fair, Artemis and Bizzaro had never really interacted with Nightwing. Roy and Kori had no such excuse, through they were exchanging worried looks and Jason figured they might make their way back to the table soon enough. They’d been ranging between both groups as the arguing continued.
“Something is not right with our friend Nightwing,” Kori whispered softly, her hair sparking slightly.
“The whole situation’s shit,” Roy muttered back, crossing his arms and glaring at Green Arrow, who had his head in his hands while Black Canary re-wrapped a bandage around his arm. Jason wondered if he should tell Roy that his expression looked more worried than angry and he could go check on his fucking father, even if they were at odds at the moment.
It’s not like Jason had that luxury. Not that he would, naturally, but he would be okay watching Dick do that. Okay seeing the little relieved nod Dick would send Jason’s way after fussing over Batman at the end of a bad patrol.
Not that Nightwing could do that in a room full of superheroes that had no idea Batman had more support that Robin, who usually stayed back in Gotham. Batman hadn't lapsed once on his keep the family a secret thing over the years, which, honestly, didn’t bother Jason that much. He liked having secrets and didn’t trust a lot of people. And also was legally dead so had a pretty secret identity in more than one way.
Still, Jason would put money on his big brother. The man was very good at mother-henning and would absolutely find a way to use paperwork or something to slide up to Batman and get some sort of all-clear signal, even amidst the League.
Unfortunately, Batman would have to be okay for that. Not being held hostage with a core group of the the Justice League, including Wonder Woman and Superman, after round one of a surprise alien invasion that was only barely not a complete defeat on the side of Earth.
“He’s angry,” Jason murmured back, unintentionally.
“I was not aware you had met Nightwing,” Kori said after a brief pause.
Roy gave a tired smirk. “Course you’ve met Nightwing. Can’t wait to hear how he made even our prickly ol’ Red Hood fall into the trap of friendship.”
“We’re not friends,” Jason said, knowing Kori and Roy wouldn’t believe him.
Their potential responses were cut off by a shout and slam from over at the table. Green Lantern and the Flash had been doing a surprisingly decent job of trying to corral the various heroes into some semblance of a plan but there were representatives of at least five different hero teams in the room, not counting the uneasily milling Titans and the reluctant Outlaws. This was sheer chaos on a non-battlefield scale and neither had quite the leadership experience to coordinate such absurdity.
Jason would have been surprised that Dick wasn’t stepping up, as a mediator at the very least, if Jason wasn’t the only one in the room who was aware how this was going to end. He’d known since the moment Nightwing had stopped tapping that pen, placing it slowly down on top of the proposed plan to stare at the still image of the Big Three’s ransom video. Someone had paused it on a moment of the three of them on their knees in individual glass tubes pumped with various gasses and lined with glowing green.
Jason looked at the video for a moment, suppressing the tick in his jaw more easily than his own rage, swirling and tumbling in raging rivers that only long practice kept contained. Batman was clearly sitting in a puddle of his own blood and while he’d bandaged himself up with his shredded cape, he certainly wasn’t conscious anymore. He’d never have been able to withstand the yells of his teammates without a reaction, never sit down that haphazardly, never look so exhausted when an enemy was filming him for the express purposed of showing it to his allies. Allies that includes his kids.
Bruce and Jason were still working through some issues, sure, but they needed time to finish that and Jason wouldn’t get that if the man was dead. Also, his dad’s amends had included reading the entire collected works of Jane Austen and how dare these aliens get in the way of their planned discussion of Pride and Prejudice. Jason was going to enjoy this beat down so. Fucking. Much.
While making a shit-ton of money. General odds favoured Demon Brat outing the Batfamily secret to the Justice League, with runners up being Timmy missing a dose of coffee after multiple all-nighters and spilling the beans or Bruce finally caving into his children’s badgering and telling the lot himself. Jason had been the only one to bet Dickie would reveal it all in a fit of temper, though Jason hadn’t really thought he’d be joining the temper-tantrum quiet so exuberantly.
“The plan won’t work as is,” Flash was trying to argue. A hero in bright orange scoffed, gaining a glare from Green Lantern. Jason didn’t even recognize the idiot, which he would never be mentioning to anyone. He might also need to take a look at some of the Batfiles again, purely on an incidental and unrelated basis.
“So it needs a bit of help-”
“Like training wheels?” Nightwing’s voice cut through the murmurs and nervous shifting while cold precision, everyone likely more floored by the lack of joking tone than the words themselves. Because, usually, that would have been a joke.
It wasn’t.
Nightwing pushed up from the table, stepping away from the Titans in a casual move that wasn’t casual at all.
“Batman left you fucking training wheels,” Nightwing continued. “He left you bulleted and colour-coded instructions for major League members being ransomed in multiple situations, including alien invasion, that you’ve ignored completely with how you’ve started the dialogue with said aliens. So clearly, you don’t need just any level help, certainly not to the point AI, telepathy, missile guidance, or some more sophisticated system could provide, no, you need someone to walk you through proper procedure like a parent holding the back of a bike.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that. Batman doesn’t have time for that. Batman is entirely human with no powers that might help him survive being beaten, isolated, and exposed to that much radiation. He’ll be dead by end of day while you lot continue to squabble like children who weren’t ready to leave their trikes. So here’s the actual plan: prepare for an invasion. I suggest using the League plans drafted and vetted during previous prep meetings, but I don’t really care. Do what you fucking want. Just know that Batman and the captive League members will be freed by midnight tonight.”
The orange hero sneered but he’d also taken two steps back compared to Nightwing’s one step forward, so had lost regardless. Nightwing had also stopped addressing the man partway through and was instead focusing on the Flash and Green Lantern.
“Kid,” Flash started.
“The Titans aren’t equipped for this kind of mission, Nightwing.” Green Lantern’s interruption was pointed, but respectful. He was aware something had changed, at least.
He was also partially correct, Jason could admit. The Titans were largely domestic, though they’d certainly gone to space a number of times. They also weren’t usually going against armies, but rather primarily used smaller teams or units that had excellent manoeuvrability and adaptability. This would actually be helpful for a rescue mission, if the Titans hadn’t taken some of the hardest hits during the initial stages of the invasion. They’d been some of the first responders to the invaders and many were still on the ground coordinating clean up and defences under the lead of Cyborg and Raven.
Nightwing simply shook his head. “The Titans won’t be involved. Troia will be taking command.”
Troia didn’t flinch at the sudden responsibility but she looked at Nightwing for one long moment before nodding sharply.
Kid Flash shook his head and stepped forward. “You’re not going alone.”
Nightwing grinned and it wasn’t his usual grin. It was far sharper and Jason couldn’t help echoing it for all no one could see his own expression beneath his helmet. He also took this as his cue, since orange idiot decided to step forward again and reached out to touch Jason’s brother. Now, Dick could absolutely take the fucker, but he tended not to stir up shit since it smeared his Golden Boy persona because, though he complained about that name, it did kind of help when dealing with other heroes.
Jason had no such issues.
The orange idiot let out an embarrassing yelp when he hit the ground, particularly considering Jason didn’t even break a bone or pull a gun. He did step on the idiot’s back, using enough pressure to keep the idiot down.
Roy started forward and Kori tilted her head while Artemis smirked. Jason crossed his arms, slightly smug. If those three hadn’t clocked him moving then most of the others in the room definitely hadn’t. He didn’t pull out the full Bat stealth training all that often with other heroes, usually going for brute force, but he’d been trained by the League of Assassins and fucking Batman. He also regularly got conned into hide and seek by Cass, who really enjoyed the game and Jason had a really hard time telling no.
“I’m never alone,” Nightwing said, dragging his hand over Jason’s shoulder. Jason allowed the touch because it had been a long day and also Dickie needed that kind of support. No other reason.
“Oracle,” Nightwing said after a brief moment where no one else seemed able to find their words.
The screen that had been paused on the ransom video flickered before turning black with a bright yellow bat-symbol spinning in a slow circle.
“Nightwing,” Barbara’s disguised voice rang out. Troia and Kid Flash weren’t that surprised, since Oracle had certainly helped them out before, though there was no fucking way the two were aware just how much she’d helped. Dickie and Barbara always played close to the chest with information.
“I’m activating Replacement 2.0 Protocol. And calling in the calvary. All hands on deck.”
“Message sent. Current distribution?”
“I want a deep dive on the info previously collected. I’m not satisfied on accuracy or completion and you are, naturally, the best.”
“Of course.”
“The Reds can go ship scavenging; we can certainly get more from their tech and mechanics on the crashed ships. Set Signal and BB to one of the less-trampled ship crashes. I want details on personal and likely behaviour patterns. Spoiler and Robin are with me. We’re setting up mobility, transport, and response.”
“On it. Agent A is coordinating supplies and gear. Need anything in particular?”
Nightwing hummed and raised an eyebrow at Jason. He didn’t get to respond through before the door to the meeting room got thrown open and running feet continued forward.
Red Robin bounced around the people, pivoting off the table and stepping on at least one hero. Superboy was flying after him but completely unable to keep up with the unpredictability of Timmy’s movements. Which might have been because the kid barely took his eyes off his tech-gauntlet. He stopped at Batman’s usual chair, which was also where Dick and Jason were standing, and perched on the top in a move that was very reminiscent of Dickie. Though Dick wouldn’t have needed the slight lean into Jason’s shoulder as an extra balance point.
“Thank fuck,” Red Robin said, making Dick’s other eyebrow rise before turning narrowed lenses to Jason, who shrugged. Sure, Timmy didn’t swear a lot, but Jason wouldn’t be accepting full blame for any worsening language patterns, no he would not.
“Problem, Baby Bird?” Dick asked, ignoring everyone to run an hand through Red Robin’s hair. Red Robin didn’t protest the motion or the name, which meant that he’d definitely seen the video of their dad stuck in a toxic aquarium and run the calculations on his likely survival timeframe.
“Beyond the obvious?” Tim snarked, still leaning subtly into both Dick’s touch and Jason’s shoulder. Jason decided he wasn’t that much of an asshole so didn’t lean away. Though he didn’t lean in, either.
“Yup.”
“People are stupid,” Tim said.
“No shit,” Jason couldn’t help himself. Thought we were asking about beyond the obvious.”
“Really stupid. The League had protocols for this. I’ve read them. All of them. We’re following none of them.”
Dick sighed. “Leave that for Batman when he comes back. Everything will turn into a straightforward smash and defeat once we rescue the hostages. They can handle that.”
He ended with a glare at most of the older heroes in the room, outright daring them to not be able to handle that. Flash was nodding before Nightwing even looked away.
“Gear?” Oracle asked again from the computer, a faint tone to her voice that only a Bat would know as amused stress.
“One moment,” Dick said, looking down at their dad’s chair. He reached under the arm and opened a small compartment with a funny twist. Jason looked at Tim who actually looked up in order to shake his head. He hadn’t known either, but neither of them were nearly as surprised as the rest of the heroes, particularly Green Lantern, Flash, Black Canary, and Green Arrow who actually sat through meetings with Batman in this room.
Dick took a small USB-looking stick that was apparently actually a key of some sort, walked over to the wall of monitors, and somehow actually opened one of the screens to reveal a black case. He dropped it on the table before opening the thing with a memorized code and rummaging inside. Dick made a satisfied sound before pulling out three of the latest communication devices, sticking one in his ear to replace the Titan tech and handing the others to Jason and Tim.
Jason took the comm and but in his pocket as a spare, planning to switch the frequencies of his helmet to the family channel as soon as they left. He did accept the subtle handful of Batarangs, which weren’t his favourite, but would do considering he’d spent a lot of bullets and smaller blades in the earlier fight.
“No gear yet,” Dick told Oracle. “B’s got us covered for now and we’ll re-assess after the info-gathering. Let’s go.”
Red Robin nodded and hopped down, which finally prompted Superboy forward.
“Red Robin, what’s going on?”
“I’m getting Batman, Superman, and the rest back. Don’t worry. Also Wonder Girl’s in charge of Young Justice, listen to her.”
The two exchanged a few more words while Jason contemplated the fact that both his brother’s had Amazons as their second in command. He caught sight of Artemis with her arms crossed, enjoying the chaos, and decided that was just because Amazons were awesome.
Bizzaro waved at him and Jason waved back. “Catch you on the flip side,” Jason told him.
“Wait-” someone started.
“No,” Nightwing responded. He did half turn, though. “We will get them back.”
He used his promise voice. His or-else voice. His the-enemy-will-soon-weep-at-my-feet-for-what-they’ve-taken-from-me voice. It echoed with the screams of winds that ripped around skyscrapers or heralded storms that required evacuation plans.
Everyone in that fucking room believed him.
Red Robin fell in at Nightwing’s left, a step behind in a perfect flanking position. Jason grumbled a bit but took up the right, Nightwing already almost out of the room and coordinating further with Oracle via the comm.
“You just, what? Have a secret, emergency team-all prepared and ready to go? Hood is anti-hero. And who the fuck is Spoiler or Signal?” The words were Green Arrows, not antagonistic, exactly, but a kind of frustrated exasperation.
Red Robin scoffed but didn’t look up from his computer as he followed their brother out of the room. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
Jason did look back. Roy had moved behind his father’s back, one hand pressing him back into the seat. “And you take orders from Nightwing?” Roy asked, calmly.
“Sometimes,” Jason flipped a Batarang in his hand, petty enough to enjoy the way several different people in the room tensed up at his playing with a blade, even if they didn’t recognize what kind it was exactly. “When he’s not being a Dickhead.”
Jason titled his head, knowing it was a menacing motion with his helmet. But, well, he was angry. And his big brother certainly wasn’t going to stop him.
Jason threw the Batarang, sending the distinctive weapon with perfect trajectory into the substandard plan that had Nightwing had deemed so ineffectual as to be actually condemning their dad to death. Jason didn’t hit the paper dead centre, but he hadn’t been aiming for dead centre.
Nightwing’s pen split neatly in half, the Batarang bisecting the plastic and sending splatters of blue ink spreading to either side like wings.
“Better brush up on your battle plans. Don’t want to be explaining to Batman how much more of a mess you caused, now do you?”