Chapter Text
THEN
The sun rests high up above. Bruce is talking too quickly, each word spoken with agitation. Jason isn’t listening. He should be, but he’s not. He’s standing in his civilian clothes, watching the clouds drift by. He’s thinking of his mother, and the years that were robbed from them. And what could’ve- should’ve been.
“Jason!” Bruce snaps.
Jason blinks awake. Bruce is standing next to the helicopter now, grabbing his shoulder. He’s more panicked than Jason has ever seen him- and for good reason, too. Jason’s decision has already been made.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah,” Jason says, swaying a little. “Stay here and keep an eye on that warehouse. Until you return. Take no action. Until you return.”
“I want you to promise,” Bruce says. It’s strange seeing so much emotion under the cowl. Usually, Bruce keeps it in check. But he’s erratic now. His feelings shining through. Because this time he knows that they have to. “Promise me, Jason.”
“Alright,” Jason says, vacantly. “I promise.”
“Joker’s too dangerous for you to handle alone,” Bruce says. He tightens his grip on Jason’s shoulders. “You’re in danger every second we stay here. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Jason says. “I do.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. And then we’ll save her, Jay,” Bruce draws Jason close to him. Jason feels as though he’s on another planet. Torn. “I promise.”
“Okay,” Jason says. His voice breaks.
Bruce steps away and studies him for a moment. And then he nods, stepping into the mini-copter, his cape trembling in the breeze. Jason watches him leave. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then he turns and walks in the opposite direction.
NOW
“I don’t get paid enough for this.”
Jason’s standing on top of a roof. A criminal clad in purple and green is in front of him. He has a neon green magician’s hat on, and a belt that has an alarmingly large clock on attached to it. He’s currently desperately trying to assemble a bomb. Or, at least, something that looks like a bomb. It quite honestly looks more like a snowglobe than anything else.
“Honestly,” Jason says, slowly walking forwards. “I don’t.”
“Stay back!” The criminal yells.
“Or what?”
“Or- or-” The criminal starts to panic. “You will face the wrath of the Time-Twizzler!”
“The Time-Twizzler?” Jason laughs. “Seriously?”
The Time-Twizzler continues to fiddle...or twizzle...with the orb in his hand. It’s glowing purple and green now...which might’ve been intimidating... if it didn’t look like a budget disco ball.
“You look like Zatanna and Riddler had a lovechild,” Jason continues, a hand on his gun. “And not to mention the clock on your crotch. What’s that all about?”
“Stay back!” The Time-Twizzler wails. “Your doom is nigh!”
“Really?” Jason rolls his eyes. He knows Time-Twizzler can’t see it, because of the helmet and all, but it still needs to be done. He takes a few steps forward, his hand moving to his gun. “Because I’d say your doom is pretty nigh too, buddy.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong!” The Time-Twizzler insists. His voice is heightening rapidly in pitch.
“Hmm. Let me see,” Jason counts on his fingers. “Arson. Assault. Kidnapping. Not to mention the fact that some of the people you’ve provided wares to...use those wares to hurt children. So yeah. I’d say you’ve done a lot wrong.”
“Do you know how hard it is to make a name for yourself in Gotham?” The Time-Twizzler wails. “I did what I had to! What I needed to survive- in- in order to survive.”
“Yeah, well,” Jason points the gun at Time-Twizzler’s face. “If that’s the case, you should’ve stayed dead.”
“Please!” Time-Twizzler cowers in fear, his whole body trembling. “Show mercy?”
“Or what?” Jason says. “You’re going to Twizzle me? Get over here. I’m gonna kick your puny white ass.”
“Never!” The Time-Twizzler turns and runs.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jason asks. He sighs and starts walking after him. “Twizzly. Dude. You’re on a flat roof. There’s nowhere for you to run.”
Time-Twizzler reaches the edge of the roof. His knees are shaking. Jason sighs. He really, really doesn’t get paid enough for this. But when Time-Twizzler turns around, his eyes are unnaturally wide under his purple felt mask, and his hands are splayed wide.
“Ha ha!” He declares. “You have wandered straight into my trap!”
“Your what now?” Jason asks.
A sudden light catches his eye. He looks down, sees that the orb is flashing violently beside his feet. The number five is shimmering inside of it. For fuck’s sake. It looks like a glittery magic 8 Ball. But then it starts to beep, and Jason turns to run. But it’s too late. The orb explodes, and Jason catches a flash of orange- and then nothing.
THEN
Jason lands. Roughly. For a second he thinks he’s dead. He glances up and catches no sight of the Time-Twizzler. That motherfucker.
It’s just as well. Because if he’d been right in front of Jason right now...Jason would’ve thrown him from the fucking roof. He probably broke a couple of Jason’s ribs with that dumb stint. That bomb...or whatever it was. It certainly feels like he broke something. Damn.
He sits up slowly, breathing heavily beneath his helmet. Something feels strange. He can’t pinpoint what. But he’ll focus on that later. Right now...he has to check his injuries. And try to figure out a way to explain this absolute mess to Bruce.
He presses his fingers to his chest, wincing slightly. God...everything hurts so much. And he can’t believe he got taken down by a guy called Time-Twizzler. If it’d been Two-Face, or Penguin, or even Scarecrow...he would’ve taken it. But Time-Twizzler? Really? It’s only two steps up from Condiment King. Or the motherfucking Calendar Man. God...Tim is never going to let him hear the end of this…
Okay. Jason finishes his checks and exhales a sigh. There’s no broken bones. Which is good. But there’s definitely some bruising along his ribs...bruising Leslie is almost definitely scold him to shit over...and not to mention Alfred...
Jason opens his eyes. Sees brown. And then he scowls, because...this isn’t Gotham.
He scrambles to his feet.
There’s trees in the distance. Dirt under his feet. It’s coarse. Dry. From the summer. Jason never managed to forget the smell of it. No matter how hard he tried.
“No,” he says, weakly.
He tears his helmet off and throws it to the ground. He sees the sky above- a perfect, endless blue.
This is the day he died.
The afternoon before, to be exact. Fucking Hell. It looks exactly the same.
What the fuck was in that orb? Fear gas?
“This isn’t happening,” Jason declares. He grabs his gun and holds it up. “Nope. Nope.”
He turns in a circle, his breathing erratic. He...he is going to have a big conversation with Time-Twizzler once he gets home. Or...or wakes up. From whatever dream or illusion this is. Or has to be.
He picks his helmet up, and, just for the Hell of it, pinches himself. It hurts just the same, which isn’t useful. He looks around. Just ahead of him is the door of the warehouse. The warehouse Bruce told him not to go into all those years ago. The warehouse where...where…
Fuck it.
Dream or not, Jason’s going to go in there, Goddamnit, and fill the Joker full of lead. He deserves it. He needs it. And he’s not afraid.
NOW
“It worked!”
A shrill voice breaks Jason’s sleep. Was he asleep? He doesn’t remember going to sleep. He remembers walking to the warehouse. Planning on saving his mom. Being in his civilian gear...with the Robin suit underneath.
He blinks once, twice. Okay, so he’s on a roof. And it’s raining. He’s in his civilian gear still, at least, so that hasn’t changed. And he doesn’t need to check to know that his Robin suit is underneath. He’d sleep with that thing on if he could. He’d know it in death.
“It worked! I didn’t think it would...but it did!” The voice continues.
Jason looks up. There’s a thin man in purple and green standing in front of him. He’s on the edge of the roof, and he’s wearing bright green gloves.
“...Riddler?” He asks, voice groggy. “...S'at you?”
“What?” The man asks. His face is pale with shock. “No! I’m- I’m Time-Twizzler! I just told you! Or- I just told him. The him that was you. Ah, it’s no matter!”
Jason scowls as the man approaches. He picks up something that looks like a shattered orb and grins.
“It really really worked! You’re just a boy! You can do no harm to me now!”
“What do you mean?” Jason sits up. His heart is thumping. This feels like Gotham. It’s certainly crazy enough to be Gotham. But if he’s in Gotham...where is Bruce? Where is his mom? Where’s everything? “What’s going on?”
“You’re the Red Hood, aren’t you?” The man asks. “Or- you were him. Are going to be him. In five or so years?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jason yells. “I ain’t no Joker!”
“Joker?” The man frowns. “No- I- that’s not you. You’re- him. The other Red Hood. Remember?”
“Get away from me,” Jason stands. His knees are weak. His skull feels like its sinking in his head. “Seriously.”
“So it must affect memory too!” The man says. He follows Jason closely, and starts prodding him. “I wonder...if the body is not the same, perhaps…”
“I said, get the fuck off me!” Jason yells.
He lashes out, and the man falls in an undignified heap at Jason’s feet. His nose is bleeding slightly. Jason stares at him in shock for a moment and squats to check the man’s pulse.
“Please be alive,” he murmurs. “C’mon. You can’t be dead from a punch.”
There’s a second of nothing, and then, a steady thump emerges under Jason’s fingertips. Okay. He’s alive. Just knocked out. Jason emits a short shaking breath and stands. He didn’t even mean to knock the guy out. And it was stupid to. He’s probably Jason’s only decent lead on what’s going on here. Or was. Then again, he might just be crazy. To say that Jason...Batman’s Goddamn Robin...was the Joker? Or someone the Joker used to be? He has to be crazy.
Jason looks around, forcing himself to think. Okay. The skyline looks like Gotham. But there’s a lot of things wrong with it. There’s a lot of different buildings there, for starters. And a lot of different shapes. Maybe it’s changed since Jason got back from Ethiopia? Maybe the whole thing with his mom was all some strange, twisted dream?
It doesn’t matter. Jason checks the guy is definitely out cold, checks that no-one is looking, and then takes his civilian clothes off. He’s Robin now. He can do anything. And he’s going to be alright.
“Time to find Bruce and get the Hell outta here,” he muses.
He tries his earpiece, but there’s nothing. No frequencies, no waves. And his tracker says there’s no Batmobile to be found, which is weird...but nothing Jason and Bruce haven’t dealt with before. The only difference this time...is that Jason’s on his own. Which is okay. He’s been on his own before. Hell- Dick used to be on his own all of the time when he was Robin. And it’s about time Jason measures up.
“I can do this,” he whispers, casting his grappling hook to a nearby roof.
A plan is already forming in his head- just like Bruce taught him. First, to Wayne Tower, to get his faulty tracker fixed by Lucius. And then...to the Cave. Bruce will be able to fix this. Because there’s nothing Bruce can’t fix.