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It probably wasn’t Jason’s best idea, but he was angry, and anger can lead to poor decisions.
He had broken into Clark Kent’s hotel room as Red Hood and was waiting for the reporter to return finally. With every hour he had to wait, he grew more impatient and began to question his decision.
Jason didn’t know why he was so angry.
Clark Kent was just a small-time reporter for the Daily Planet. But he was also a reporter whom Jason had always admired. His uncle Superman had received a lot of criticism in the beginning, but Clark Kent had supported him and exposed Lex Luthor as the liar he was.
Yes, Jason had admired Clark Kent since the beginning of his career. He was the kind of man Jason had wanted to be back then. Eloquent and honest. Standing up for the little guy.
And then Jason died and became Red Hood.
That didn’t change his opinion of Clark Kent.
It made it all the harder when his childhood hero finally came to Gotham, only to write a story glorifying Batman.
Jason would set the record straight.
Batman wasn’t going to steal his favorite reporter too.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Jason relaxed his muscles enough to make it look like he owned the room.
Clark spotted him immediately after the door closed, and he turned on the light.
It wasn’t hard to notice Red Hood. For one thing, the room was so small and the chair was directly opposite the door. For another, Red Hood radiated a menacing and murderous aura that Clark had last seen in Livewire.
Batman had only mentioned Red Hood briefly, but Clark knew his friend. He had heard exactly how concerned Bruce was. And anything that could worry Batman should also worry Clark.
“Good evening, Mr. Kent,” Red Hood said kindly. He was carrying guns on his body that Clark could see even without his X-ray vision, but he didn’t have a weapon in his hand. Unfortunately, his helmet was shielded with lead. Bruce would have complained, but in the end, he would have gratefully accepted the information about Red Hood’s identity.
“Am I in the wrong room?” Clark asked, his voice trembling, trying to pull his shoulders down even more than usual. He stretched his hands out in front of him to show that he was unarmed.
The last thing he needed was for Batman’s enemies to learn Superman’s secret identity.
“Funny,” said Red Hood, but he didn’t laugh. “Please sit down. We have something to discuss.”
“Do we?” asked Clark, horrified. It would have been too good to be true if the man had been in the wrong room. How could he have so many enemies as Clark Kent, just like he did as Superman?
“Yes, about your last article...”
Red Hood threw the latest edition of the Daily Planet between them onto the floor.
The headline read: Batman cleans up–Gotham City safer than ever
Clark wasn’t a fan of the headline, but he was proud of the article itself. It was one of his better pieces.
Still, he worried whether anything in the words had conveyed that he knew Batman’s identity. If so, he had a problem.
“What’s wrong with it?” he asked cautiously.
“It’s garbage!”
That was a really strong and rude opinion.
Jason saw Kent flinch at his choice of words and felt briefly guilty until he remembered what the article said.
“Garbage” was putting it mildly.
“How the hell is Batman cleaning up the city if he keeps putting the same bastards behind bars over and over again? It just means he’s doing such a sloppy job that he’ll be busy until he retires.”
Clark Kent clearly didn’t know what to say.
“And the statistics showing that Gotham is safer now clearly don’t depend solely on Batman. He has an army of helpers. And then there’s me! I’m not part of his little circus, but that’s exactly why I’m doing such a damn good job and have instilled the fear of God in the criminals in Crime Alley.”
Clark Kent seemed to slowly realize that he was a reporter and, as such, was not at a loss for words.
“I’d be happy to write an article about you, Mr. Hood,” Clark Kent suggested. “The new hero from Gotham will surely be of interest to many.”
Jason couldn’t help but laugh with no need to think about it.
“I’m no hero, Mr. Kent. I’m a crime boss.”
Surprisingly, Kent didn’t seem afraid. No flinching, no tension in his muscles. Either he was stupid or he thought he was invulnerable. Neither trait was good for a reporter... or anyone in Gotham.
“Then the article will surely be even more interesting.”
He was certainly not wrong, but Jason did not want recognition. That was not why he was here.
“It’s enough for me if you retract your article and write about what Batman is really like.”
Clark Kent must have been tired of living, because he actually raised an eyebrow and asked, “What is Batman really like?”
“A hypocritical bastard who doesn’t care about Gotham, but only about playing the hero while people suffocate in his shadow from fear, sweat, blood, and chemicals. He’s an asshole, a wanker, an incompetent piece of shit, and a shitty father!”
Kent’s eyes widened.
Jason cursed softly and stood up. He had said too much.
“Write a new article. You have a week.”
With that, he disappeared, wondering if his former favorite reporter could become his favorite reporter again.
Jason sighed heavily when his work cell phone rang the next evening.
Not because it was ringing, but because Trevor was calling.
Trevor called about every little thing. Trevor talked too much. Unfortunately, Jason couldn’t fire Trevor because, apart from these problems, he did a really excellent job. And maybe also because Jason had found out that his wife was pregnant and they could use the money.
“What?” he asked, hoping that if he kept it short, the conversation would be shorter.
“Well, we have a situation here in warehouse B. We think it’s a cop snooping around, so we snatched him for now. At first, I didn’t think anything of it when he was just asking questions in the Red-Light District. A lot of new customers there don’t know how to flirt. But he moved on and asked Ernie questions. And then Karl. And Gustav, too. So, I had Toby with Y and Tobi with I arrest him. Can you take a look at him and tell us what to do? He seems like a really nice guy, and I don’t necessarily want to send him to the fish. He even gave me a tip for my acne.”
Jason was on his way after the second sentence.
A cop and his people could quickly become unpleasant. Even if the cop in question seemed friendly.
When Jason finally arrived at the warehouse, he wished he had taken more time.
He found Clark fucking Kent tied to a chair, chatting amiably with Trevor.
A bag on the floor revealed that Trevor had apparently decided that Kent was allowed to see his face.
Kent must have been really likable, because it was unlike the man to be so careless.
“Ah, boss,” Trevor said happily, but also embarrassed. “It turns out he’s not a cop after all, but a reporter. And not just any reporter. He’s from the Daily Planet and recently wrote that fantastic article about Batman.”
“Enough,” Hood growled.
Trevor swallowed and thankfully kept his mouth shut.
“You can go.”
Trevor gave Kent an apologetic look before taking off and fleeing.
Jason made himself even bigger and more menacing.
“I gave you a week.”
“Which is very little time, which is why I started working on it right away,” Kent smiled innocently.
“I advised you not to write an article about me.”
Jason pulled out a knife and was impressed that the reporter didn’t flinch.
“And I noted that and decided to write an article about you, Batman, and Gotham in one. From the perspective of the locals.”
Jason bent down and cut through the restraints while he thought about his answer.
It was exactly the kind of article he would have loved to read as a child. A view from the underdogs, not the big shots.
Jason could literally picture the article in Kent’s hands.
He didn’t want to stand in the way.
With a heavy heart, he sighed, “All right. I’ll tell my people to cooperate. You better make it worth my while.”
There was a sparkle in Kent’s eyes that could be mistaken for pride.
“Oh, it will. Don’t worry.”
Jason’s cell phone rang, and he groaned. Every message he had received in the last few days had been about Kent. Without exception.
And without exception, all of his people had babbled about how likeable the guy was.
Jason briefly considered ignoring his cell phone, but his sense of duty won out.
It was a message from Double-D.
You don’t want to miss this.
Jason frowned. It couldn’t be that serious if she had attached a laughing smiley to the message.
A photo followed.
It showed a reporter he knew all too well who had just turned very red.
Jason couldn’t help but smile. His married reporter had finally gotten to Jason’s women and couldn’t handle the intensity of Gotham’s beauties.
It was no understatement to say that Jason had never rushed from one end of the city to the other so quickly.
He found a good vantage point and watched as Suprema positioned herself so that the reporter had a good view of her cleavage.
Kent looked over her head and continued talking as if nothing had happened.
Jason almost felt sorry for him. Suprema was very direct, and Kent was exactly her type. She liked shy men with glasses who also had good manners. She didn’t meet many of those.
Jason took out his latest listening device and was curious to hear what Suprema would say that would make Kent blush even more.
“Hood is a real sweetheart. When he says he’ll take care of us, he means it.”
Kent nodded eagerly.
“And what exactly does that look like?”
Supreme laughed: “He doesn’t warm my bed. So there’s more than enough room for you. Wherever you want. On top of me, underneath me, or between my legs. I’ll even throw in my arms as an offer for you.”
Kent cleared his throat: “I’m married.”
Suprema laughed again, and this time it sounded genuine. “That hasn’t stopped anyone here yet.”
“It stops me.”
Jason cursed. He could see that this was the moment when Suprema’s persona melted and she too gave in to the reporter’s charm.
“You’re too good for this place.”
He shook his head. “I disagree. Gotham has many good souls to offer. It’s just harder to discover them than in other places. Gothamites have learned to adapt so that no one sees how good they really are.”
Suprema was so close to putting the man in a taxi to Metropolis just to keep him safe.
“What about Batman?” Kent asked. “Do you feel protected by him?”
Suprema shook his head without hesitation: “No. Not in Crime Alley. Only Hood can really help here. As long as none of the Arkham lunatics break out and threaten us, we’re not in danger. Batman only deals with petty criminals in other neighborhoods. At least he has the sense not to send any of his Robins here. They’re still far too young for that.”
Kent nodded. “Thank you very much for the interview. You’ve been a great help.”
Suprema grinned. “You’re welcome, sweetie. It’s not often you get the chance to flirt with a decent guy. Feel free to come by if you ever want to be a little less decent or if your marriage falls apart.”
Kent blushed again.
Jason took a photo as a souvenir for himself.
The next day, Jason saw red. Batman had snatched his reporter again.
“Do I even want to know what you’re doing here, Clark?”
Clark flinched. He should have heard Batman coming, but Batman was Batman—a master of stealth—and Clark had just been trying to take a night shot of Gotham after Jimmy refused to come back to Gotham. Jimmy had already lost his best clothes during the article about Batman, and Clark still didn’t know how exactly red paint had gotten on his jacket. In retrospect, Clark had the feeling that it might have been blood after all, but he couldn’t explain that any better.
“Cursing your city—that’s what I’m doing. No matter how I hold the camera, all you can see in the picture is black.”
Batman sighed and rubbed his nose. Behind him, Robin poked his head out in interest, and Clark could hear his heartbeat quicken.
“Can I take over?”
Since Clark still didn’t have a usable photo after ten minutes and he had a feeling that Bruce still wanted to talk to him, he agreed. A moment later, he almost blushed when Robin’s first action was to remove the cap from the lens.
Luckily, Bruce was in his Batman costume, otherwise, he would probably have a smile on his face that Clark would not soon forget.
“So, why are you back in Gotham?”
Clark probably should have warned Bruce earlier.
He already knew that Bruce would have wanted a report since Clark’s first meeting with Red Hood, but then again, Red Hood had shown up at Clark’s place and not Superman’s. It wasn’t a Superman matter, and therefore it wasn’t one for Batman either. It was unusual for Bruce to be visiting him on the Gotham rooftop. At least if Clark thought about Bruce’s paranoia.
But maybe it was precisely this paranoia that had prompted Batman to seek Clark out. Clark had been working on this new report for over half a week now and would start conjuring up a report from the interviews he had conducted. But he would probably notice some angle he wanted to explore further and have to organize another interview. It would be a miracle if he could meet Hood’s deadline.
“It has been pointed out to me that my article about Batman was written from the wrong perspective. I wrote as a reporter from Metropolis without incorporating the perspective of the citizens of Gotham. I would now like to correct this in another article about Gothamites, Batman, and Red Hood.”
Everything in Batman’s posture tensed. “Hood? Why him of all people?”
The journalist in Clark immediately sensed an opportunity. If he wanted an interview with Batman, there was no better time than now. He would never get Bruce to agree to such a conversation again.
Out of courtesy, however, Clark fished out his recording device and waited for a nod before turning it on. They both knew that Clark would rather lose his hand than let anyone get a recording of Batman’s voice from his hand.
“While I’ve heard a lot of good things about Batman and Robin, and according to locals, you’re doing good for the city, the opinion of Gothamites changes when we look at Crime Alley. Quite a few citizens feel abandoned by Batman, while some have already noted that Batman was only there for them for a short time and they never expected him to help them much. How do you see it, Mr. Batman? Do you think you are doing what is necessary to protect all districts of Gotham from crime, or do you agree with the citizens of Gotham that you are neglecting Crime Alley?”
Clark knew this question had gone too far when he saw Batman’s face. It had lost all warmth, and from the way Robin turned to them in alarm, it was clear that Clark had unintentionally crossed a line. His journalistic curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he realized once again that although Bruce was his friend, there was much they never talked about.
Batman reached forward and stopped the recording without saying a word. But before he could criticize Clark, a shot rang out, landing between their feet.
“Get away from him, Bats! Let Mr. Kent work on his report.”
Red Hood had landed on the roof, and his posture was more threatening than Clark had ever seen before. He could hear how fast Hood’s heart was beating and saw that Bruce was ready to jump into the fight. So, it was up to Clark to defuse the situation.
“Thanks for the interview, Mr. Batman,” he said politely, then turned to Robin, turning his back on both Batman and Hood. “Thanks for your help, Robin. I’m sure you got some good shots that will satisfy my editor.”
Robin snorted indignantly and handed him the camera. “Your paper should be glad to have me as a photographer.”
“Robin, back to the nest,” Batman instructed him. Robin was not at all happy with this instruction and glanced briefly at all parties before turning around and disappearing.
Clark knew Batman just wanted to protect Robin, but he thought the concerns were unwarranted. As far as his research had taken him, Hood was known for protecting children. Clark hadn’t found a single piece of evidence that Hood had ever hurt a child.
Clark smiled at Hood and stepped past Batman. “Mr. Hood, would you be willing to answer a few questions for me? I think then I’ll have everything I need for my article.”
Clark briefly turned his head toward Batman and signaled with a glance that he should leave too. Bruce was far from happy, but he received a message about an emergency and withdrew.
Now it was just Clark and Hood.
Jason had no interest in answering questions. It had never been his intention to be in the spotlight of a news report, but he would have agreed to anything if it meant Batman wouldn’t influence Kent’s future article. Batman had gotten an entire article! Now, he should stay quietly in the shadows.
“You won’t name me as a source,” Hood declared, watching the man in front of him grimace unhappily.
It was so unfair! Kent had spoken to Batman and Robin as if they were old friends, but as soon as Jason showed up, the reporter tensed up and tried to prevent an argument that Jason hadn’t started. Why did everyone Jason admired disappoint him eventually?
“It is possible to name you as an anonymous source, of course, but...”
“No but. I have many enemies, and none of those enemies should know that we talked. Your safety is my concern in this case.” Jason had brought the reporter to Gotham. If anything happened to him, it would be Jason’s fault, and Jason would find that very difficult to live with. Jason protected his people, including Kent, whether Kent agreed or not.
“I understand. Do you often help people while remaining anonymous?”
Jason tilted his head.
In fact, it was better for his reputation if word spread about how evil and violent Red Hood was. His rules were well known, but there were small gestures of kindness that he didn’t share publicly. When he stayed up a few hours longer at night to escort a child home safely, or when he gave a landlord, a hard time so that he would finally take care of repairing the heating system in one his apartments. No one needed to know that Hood was to thank for this, because Jason didn’t do it for the thanks.
But that was none of Clark Kent’s business. “No comment.”
If Kent was surprised, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pushed his glasses up and his smile seemed a little more genuine than it had a few seconds earlier. “Do you see yourself as Batman’s child?”
“Excuse me?” Jason blurted out before he could think about it. What kind of question was that? Had someone spread such a rumor? If so, who, and how hard would Jason have to hit them to keep it from spreading?
“You yourself have described Batman as, and I quote, a shitty father, and then there are a few voices in the area who have told me that the second Robin was the only superhero who ever cared about Crime Alley. Before he showed up and with his death, Batman completely ignored the area until you showed up a few months ago and became the second hero of Crime Alley.”
“I’m not a hero,” Jason growled.
It would have been nice if Kent had remembered this part of his statement. But Kent had not only overlooked it back then, he did so again today. Bastard.
“Now, of course, the question arises for me whether you see Batman as a father figure and I am currently talking to the deceased second Robin.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. That was a wild theory that stood on very shaky ground. The fact that a reporter like Clark Kent was voicing it anyway suggested that he had more information that he didn’t want to share with Jason at this point. What had Kent found out in his research? What had he talked to Batman about before Jason showed up?
“The second Robin was a friend of mine,” Jason explained in a choked voice, which fortunately was muffled by his helmet.
“And he told you about his fondness for my reporting?” Clark asked, and there was a sparkle in his eyes that Jason just couldn’t place. Jason’s instincts told him to vanish, though his legs wouldn’t obey. He had to convince Clark that his theory was wrong, because if Batman read it, it would all be over.
“Yes, but who told you?”
Batman? Had Batman actually not pretended Jason didn’t exist for once in his life? Had he revealed to Clark in his interview that his former protégé had loved his writing?
Jason couldn’t imagine that. It didn’t sound like him.
“Robin himself,” Clark replied, and it didn’t make sense. Jason had talked a lot about his literary heroes, but he hadn’t talked to many people about Clark Kent. He had told Bruce, of course, but he had also mentioned it to Superman, who had good connections to the Daily Planet, and a small part of Jason had hoped that Clark would somehow hear about the praise. Jason hadn’t believed it, and above all, he hadn’t assumed that such a talented reporter would hardly remember simple words of praise. “Did Robin also tell you that I can’t see through lead?”
Jason took a few steps back as he pieced together part of a puzzle he had started as a child with those few words.
Holy shit! Clark Kent is Superman.
Jason couldn’t help but stare at the face of the person opposite him. His fearlessness suddenly made sense. Other reporters would never have set foot in Gotham, but Superman—there wasn’t much that could hurt him.
Batman had never praised Superman for his detective skills, but Jason realized that was a mistake, because Clark Kent was quite capable of solving a case and turning it into a story. Jason had put Clark Kent on the Gotham case and hadn’t thought for a second that he was putting his own identity at risk.
Jason didn’t know how long Clark had suspected that Jason was under the helmet, but he knew that Clark hadn’t believed for a second that Hood was just a good friend of Jason’s.
No matter what people had said about Hood, something had made Clark picture Hood as a young man in red and green instead of a red helmet.
“Jason? Take a deep breath. Your heart is beating way too fast, and I’m afraid you’re going to have a panic attack.”
Jason laughed silently but forced his nerves to calm down. It was difficult, though, and in a desperate attempt to breathe more air, Jason removed his helmet. He still had his domino mask on, but it didn’t matter if Clark was already addressing him by name.
“Uncle Superman,” Jason whispered when he saw that Clark had taken off his glasses and his features suddenly looked much more like Superman’s.
“I’m here, kid. Can I touch you?”
Jason hesitated for a second before nodding. He let Clark hug him and for a moment enjoyed the fact that there was someone who looked at Jason and saw someone he wanted to hug. Superman had always been nice, but Jason wasn’t stupid: there was always a condition, and with the bodies Jason was leaving behind, sooner or later Clark would conclude that Jason wasn’t worth it.
“B never told me about your secret identity,” Jason whispered.
“I pretty much figured that. I guess it’s up to me to decide who finds out, and I don’t mind you knowing. But the same goes for you. I won’t share your identity with anyone. It’s your call.”
Jason nodded slowly. It was more than he could have hoped for.
Even as Jason slowly recovered from his initial shock, he realized that his journalistic hero was none other than Superman himself. That meant that... Clark Kent had been reporting on his own deeds and interviewing himself.
What. The. Hell.
“I’ll never be able to take any of your articles seriously again. Your moral compass is so broken.”
Clark looked at him with wide eyes, but that didn’t help Jason change his mind. Anyone who thought it was ethically acceptable to defeat a villain dressed as a superhero and then write an article about the heroic deed had no place in journalism. Objective reporting was dead.
“But I’m putting so much effort into this article. I hope you’ll read it, anyway?”
Jason had wanted nothing else to do for the past week, but did he really want to read another article written by Superman? A hero who would never understand pure evil?
“No. I’m sticking to my principles.”
“Please,” Clark begged, giving Jason a puppy-dog look that Jason had only seen on Dick. Had the two of them practiced this?
“All right, but you can expect a critical letter to the editor!”
Clark nodded slowly. “That seems fair.”
When the article was published, there were many in Gotham who secretly agreed with him, some who enthusiastically shared his views, but, above all, many opinions.
On the one hand, there was Bruce, who carelessly threw the newspaper in the trash because he didn’t want to be reminded of his own mistakes and, above all, of the place Jason had loved.
Tim, on the other hand, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut out the cover photo with the source reference underneath. Robin was now officially a photographer, something Tim Drake could never publicly pursue.
Jason took a twenty-four-hour break after the third person asked him about the article and whether he had read it yet.
And then there were Gotham’s finest women.
Suprema had also cut out a part of the newspaper, namely Clark Kent’s author photo. No one seemed to shame her for it.
Dream had followed the report with interest and marked the passage where Double-D was quoted. “It’s impressive how alive the city seems on paper.”
“Do people outside Gotham see it that way too? Do they see the beauty, or do they prefer to celebrate the false utopia that Batman is slowly building, according to the latest article?” Cutie wondered before shaking her head. It was far too early to be asking such philosophical questions.
“It doesn’t matter,” Suprema said. “The main thing is that a few people realize that Hood isn’t the monster that many see him as.”
Dream nodded and quoted from the article: “Red Hood says he’s not a hero. He’s a brutal protector, but according to the people of Gotham, especially those who live and work in Crime Alley, he’s the only protector they have, and they wouldn’t trade him for any hero in the world.”