Chapter Text
Killing in Gotham gave him a rush. Hood’s laughter hung in the air and his message was finally being carried on the news. Drug dealers should be shaking in their boots by now and Black Mask better start taking the hint: move out and fix yourself or die. He leaped over roofs and swung on his grappling hook to bask in the chaos in the streets below. And to think, the duffle bag of heads was only the start.
He crouched on the roof, ready to make his escape if needed but watching the cops chase their tails and double checking with whoever paid them off was hilarious. He’d root that out after he finished his work in Crime Alley. Just another thing that needed to be cleaned up.
Jason rolled his head and groaned. Of course. Things were going too easy and the world needed to balance it out or something stupid like that. The GCPD wasn’t actually in his territory. Nightwing had his escrima sticks out and the replacement was holding the bo staff, ready to fight. “I thought we had a truce, Bats.” At least this wasn’t the league still on his ass about the plan.
Goldie sparked the electricity in his weapons. “I’m not Batman.”
He shrugged. “You work for him. If it dances like a bat, it’s a fucking bat.”
"What are you doing here, Hood?" the ever-so-perfect replacement asked.
Hood growled. Of course, little Timmy Drake could question him even when he had blooming bruises decorating his face. How dare he when he couldn’t even handle being Robin. Red swirled with green in angry jagged shapes. “More than anything you’ve ever done.”
“Certainly, if you’re talking about the rise in murders,” Nightwing said, stepping in front of the brat. Jason stamped out the emotion that rose when he knew Dick never did that for him. “Though, I believe the deal with Batman meant you couldn’t kill anyone.”
“Ha! Did the golden boy not get the memo? Sure, I get it if the little replacement didn’t know. Little pest only listens to orders like a perfect little soldier, I bet.” He glanced at the high-brow-shrimp shaking with fury. Nice. Served the brat right. “Kid, you’re better off fucking dead.”
Nightwing stepped forward but let Jason make the first move. Some kind of trap to prove that the great Dick Grayson was the best Robin, probably. If not, it was a taunt and intimidation attempt.
“There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me,” Jason quoted. “If either of you dares get in my way, I’ll make certain that Bats knows it’s your fault when I take things further.
“Frankly, my deal with Bats is only null and void if I do something ‘extreme.’” He pulled out one of the knives he’d stashed on himself. “ What do you think that means?” he asked, toying with the blade in his hands, ready to throw it at the first sign of attack. “Do you think that I could get away with toying with you two? So long as I don’t break your wings, it could be self-defense. Don’t think he’d mind me clipping your wings.”
“I think murder counts as extreme,” the pathetic traffic-light said, though his face inspired a sadistic sort of joy in him.
Jason shrugged. “Funny, that’s why he asked for the deal in the first place.”
Nightwing roared and struck at him from the left. “Liar!”
Hood never fought Nightwing before so Jason didn’t take any practical measures against the electricity. Jason on the other hand was raised to be Nightwing 2.0. He knew the man’s moves. When the escrima stick came down, Jason slid left where Dick always left himself open and jabbed him with his elbow before trying to strike at Wing’s head with the butt of the blade. A crackling escrima blocked the attack and sent Hood’s mind reeling from the shock and the world was painted in green once more.
He bounced on the balls of his feet, responding to each attack as needed and letting the green guide his actions. Every attack only using enough force to keep him off the bats’ watchlist. waited for the opening to be revealed again. At the right moment, he spotted the weakness, though little-rich-boy noticed and moved right where he needed to be to protect Wing. Great.
Then again, Hood knew this Robin was weak. Easy to snap and break—a perfect target that put too much weight on his right foot. Hood pulled out his grappling hook in a swift motion and charged. The tiny ball of blue-blood-perfectness may know what to do but he’d never be able to, too small to stop someone from charging him. Jason not only charged but leaped over the swing of the staff, grabbed the kid, and threw him over his shoulder.
Nightwing twisted to hit him and Jason blocked the hit before trying to aim for the man’s feet. As usual, he lept backwards and Jason disengaged. The grappling hook pulled him and the struggling brat away from the roof and around another. “If you keep struggling like that, you’re gonna be falling to your death faster than Nightwing can find you.”
Of course, the superior-than-thou replacement didn’t bother listening and kept struggling. May as well have a little fun, he thought to himself before dropping the kid whilst half-way up a skyscraper. Lucky punk was panicking and grabbing at his belt when Hood caught him again. Good news: Robin stopped struggling and Jason could get them where he wanted. Bad news: Robin nearly suffocated him when latching to him for dear life. The brat hung onto him even after they landed on a roof. Alone. Where Jason could do anything to take his revenge on his replacement. He threw the walking-traffic light to the ground. The condescending ass looked around the area, in a panicked frenzy.
Robin came to his senses real quick and stood with staff in hand, ready for a fight. Jason chuckled. “Might wanna calm down. With that kind of breathing, Wing might just find you before I can have my fun.”
In a perfect imitation of Bats, the child vigilante calmed down and tightened his jaw. If not for spending so much time with the Bat, Jason wouldn’t have picked up on the suppressed emotions running under Replacement’s words. “And what kind of fun does that entail?” Jason assumed it was fear.
“Attack me.”
“What?” He took a step back.
Jason growled under the hood, the mechanized modulation making the sound all the worse. “You’re not worthy of the title.” He prowled closer, looking down on the mop of black hair. “You don’t get to run around in those colors. Whatever pretend abilities your big brain fakes, you won’t be able to be a Robin. You’re nothing.”
The bo staff came down on his shoulder and Jason’s smile stretched. “You attacked me first,” Jason said before he launched into an attack. The prideful mess of colors became a puddle of piles on the floor in three hits. “You can’t stand properly when you fight. Again.”
The replacement glared at him before targeting Jason’s abdomen with the staff. He hit once and Jason moved with the blow. “Oh, come on,” he baited. “You aren’t even trying,” he said. “Your wrist isn’t moving quickly,” he scolded. “Your elbow’s too low,” he criticized. “Too slow,” he said along with a hundred other truths.
Rewarded with an angry yell, Jason continued. “You’re sloppy,” he said when he dodged out of the staff’s path. “Undisciplined,” he said when the kid tripped, with a little help from Jason. “Lazy,” when he stopped looking for attacks. Again and again, this so-called replacement was worse than Jason was at the beginning. Bats didn’t even bother to find a half-way decent fighter to steal his place. This wasn’t a Robin, just some doll taking orders. Without Wing here, the pretender was nothing. Jason attacked for the first time and slugged his stomach and the kid collapsed around it before laying on the ground.
“Why?” Replacement breathed around exertion.
Jason nudged the Replacement’s head to the side with his foot, seeing another profile of him. “Because you never deserved this.” He squatted and held the Robin uniform in his hand, pulling his replacement along with it. “This was never meant for you. You fucking stole it and you’ll never be a real Robin.” He stood, turning away from the brat. “Never forget that.”
He’d never had this much fun in his life! Jason wanted to keep going. He’d barely dealt any damage and the green foamed at the mouth to see those yellows and greens shift to bloody reds. But then there’d be the bats. Wing, he could handle. Goldie was probably close by now anyway. No, the problem was Bats—that still wasn’t a fight he wanted quite yet. Maybe once he’d taken control of crime alley and the GCPD. Still, Jason nodded in appreciation at his work and left. He had henchmen waiting for him.