Work Text:
Halloween in Gotham wasn't like any other city.
Hell, even at Christmas there was a risk of Poison Ivy's fury for cutting down a tree and putting it in the center of the square.
There was no party where some Rouge didn't feel inspired, and Halloween was the worst.
It was as if all of Arkham decided it was the perfect day to commit crimes.
For aesthetics or some shit like that.
Not that it was any different during the rest of the year, to be honest.
But Halloween's night was always busy, and Jason should be on patrol with Bruce and Dickhead, or alone, like the cool lone wolf he was.
But no. He was supposed to take the kids to Bristol to trick and treat.
"It's a punishment, isn't it?" he asked Alfred while he waited the kids near the door.
Damian was in the stroller, the cutest mini Batman he'd ever seen, and the most frowning. And it was pretty impressive, Jason had spent years with the original.
The kid moved the rattle as if it were his scepter, and muttered all his disappointment at the delay in his siblings.
He could sympathize with the mood a little.
Alfred didn't flinch, "It's not a punishment, Master Jason. Master Bruce has deemed you the most suitable to keep your sibilings company during the evening."
"The most suitable would be Dick. Kids love him."
"They love you too."
"They don't know me well."
The butler raised an eyebrow, "They do. That's why they love you. Plus, with you, the young masters will be safe."
"They would have been with Dick or Bruce too, - Jason's gaze got harder. - Alfred, tell me the truth. Does Bruce want to keep me away from the clown?"
It was no mystery that Halloween was the Joker's favorite festivity. The bastard was the messed up embodiment of the Halloween's spirit, and almost every year he'd come up with a few jokes.
Jason knew Joker was out that night, and he also knew where he was likely to be found. It would have been a mercy to everyone if he had taken care of the Joker.
"What worries Master Bruce is your well-being, boy."
The young man let out a joke, "He reads a couple of psychology books and now he thinks he knows how to cure my well-being? It's a little too late for that."
"Master Jason ..."
He hated Alfred's disappointed tone, especially when it was addressed to him. But Jason wasn't there to be benched, "Sooner or later I'll kill Joker. You know it. I know it. The old man knows it too. He's putting off the inevitable."
"You can't blame him for trying."
"It's useless. The Joker can't be redeemed. Bruce's rule of not killing with him shouldn't apply."
"Are you speaking for justice or for revenge?"
Jason pursed his lips, "For me, there is no difference. Joker deserves to die."
Joker deserved it for what he had done to Jason, for how he had destroyed Harley's life, for putting Barbara in a wheelchair, and for all the people he had killed. Joker was more a monster than a man.
"Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. You can't be too eager to deal out death in judgment."
Very Tolkenian on Alfred's part. Too bad Jason knew who deserved to die, with a clarity he hadn't had in a long time after the pit. It was very simple: if Joker lives on, there will be more victims. It was a simplification of Bruce's moral dilemma, but as Jason saw it, numbers mattered. And saving lives was more important.
"By now you should know that I ..."
"We are ready!" Stephanie chirped cheerfully.
Jason lifted his head and felt his breath catch. Not for the girls' costumes: Stephanie and Cass had opted for the more traditional witch and mummy costumes.
His problem was Tim's costume, in leather jacket, fake pistols and red helmet.
"Tim, why are you dressed as the Red Hood?" he asked, his voice choked.
Halloween was the festival of monsters, and peolpe dressed up as scary things.
He had wanted Red Hood to be Gotham's new terror, but a terror for criminals. Had he done something wrong?
Sure, he hadn't reacted very well to the discovery of Tim's adoption, but the kid hadn't been there to see him. Had he perhaps sensed it? Maybe he was afraid that Jason would lose control and hurt him?
He would never do that, but a bad part of him reminded him that if Tim was just a little older, and wearing Robin's colors, Jason wouldn't hesitate.
"Duh, why shouldn't I? You're a hero," was the boy's reply, oblivious to his older brother's mind-whacks.
Jason blinked, "Do you really think so?"
"Yes, you're as strong as Batman. But you were Robin before, so you're a lot cooler."
The memory of his period as Robin stung, but it was nice to know that he hadn't been a total failure, and that he had managed to be an inspiration to someone.
Besides, Tim also considered him cooler than Nighwing. Take this, Dickhead.
"And Robin?"
"Robin?" Tim parroted, not understanding.
"Why didn't you dress up as Robin?"
"Robin is yours," and oh shit, now he was about to cry.
Jason had too cute a little brother, damn it.
"Maybe someday it'll be yours too," he tried to say lightly, being watched by Alfred.
It was a possibility, useless to go around it. Tim and the others were not normal children, and the chances of them deciding to become vigilantes were very high.
Maybe they can try to get them to give up, but it was better to be ready. And train them when necessary.
But it was still a distant future. Now there were some treats to collect, and some eggs to throw (and maybe he won't think how much he wants to kill a clown.)