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The little boy let out a gasp of pain as he was slammed against the concrete alley wall and held in place by a much larger man. It wasn't an abnormal scene in this part of a Gotham: A street kid looking for something worth stealing in the wrong alley at the wrong time, now claimed as the latest victim of Gotham's dark nights.
"Please! I don't have any money!" he gasped out, tears starting to well in his eyes. The thug menacing him tightened his grip, breath reeking of booze.
"Then you'll find another way to pay your debt," the man snarled, the predatory look in his eyes causing the boy's face to pale. "Be happy kid, I'm requestin' my payment nonviolently and all."
Then the kid suddenly let out a giant grin, his eyes peering at something over the shoulder of the thug.
"What's so funny punk?" his attacker growled, annoyed that his victim was suddenly a lot less scared.
"That your request for payment has been denied," came a much deeper, darker voice behind him. "With prejudice."
The man whirled around and his eyes widened in shock and instant fear as he realized who exactly was standing in front of him. Even without only the domino mask instead of the distinct Red Helmet, and with the giant red bat mysteriously absent from his chest, the leather jacket and hulking, deadly frame were unmistakable. The Red Hood – who was not supposed to be in town – had just walked in on him threating a kid.
The Red Hood didn't look kindly on that kind of thing.
"Fuck," the criminal whispered, releasing his hold on the boy and trying to reach for the knife in his waistband, hoping against hope that he'd be able to get to it in time.
The fist that landed on his face not only let him know that he'd failed epically on that front, but it also sent him reeling backwards with a sickening crack that indicated a broken jaw. All logical thoughts scrambled out of his mind as he tried to focus on staying conscious. Unluckily for him, Jason had no such issues, stepping forward and unleashing a vicious blow to his solar plexus that put the goon on his knees. The following padded knee to the face finished the job.
Jason turned to the boy before the would-be attacker even finished slumping to the ground, assessing the child for damage. "You ok Benny?"
"Great now that you're here!" he responded, his voice infused with so much happiness at seeing the Red Hood that it pained Jason. He tried not to think of what would have happened if he hadn't stopped in time.
(Or how many other kids had needed him in the last few months, when he hadn't been there.)
"Where are my men? They're supposed to be keeping an eye on the streets for idiots like that," he asked, being careful not to let his frustration seep into his voice. The kids had it bad enough without having to deal with his anger.
"They're here and there, you know," Benny answered with a shrug, looking very bit his eleven years of age. "But this place is fucked up."
"Language," Jason admonished, and the boy gave him a look that said really?
"Yea well, bad language is kind of a small problem around here don't ya think Hood?" Benny answered cheekily.
Jason clenched his jaw in annoyance because bad language didn't even register as a tiny problem when it came to Crime Alley's issues.
Winter was two thirds of the way through, and with every visit he made back into Gotham – each time going through painful hoops to avoid the Bats, though he had a feeling Oracle wasn't looking too hard – things looked worse and worse. Sure, none of the other major gangs had tried to move in on his territories yet, but his men were getting progressively lax the longer he was gone and said gang leaders were getting emboldened. The idea of a Red Hood free Crime Alley had gone from something whispered to almost expected, and in a city where psychos paying for muscle were a dime a dozen, it was bad for your health to pick too many fights for a boss that might not be coming back.
More and more of his men were picking survival over loyalty and morality.
(It was the same choice he made over and over again when he was on the streets. Only an idiot would pick otherwise, and idiots didn't live long enough to get to make that choice.)
"Let me worry about all of that. It's time to get you home." He scooped the small boy and wow this kid is still small for an eleven year old while aiming his grapple for the roof. "You still at the McRoberts orphanage?"
"Yup, just like everyone else. Except Maria, she got adopted!" Benny answered, holding tight to his leather jacket.
"Really?" Jason asked, pulling the trigger and sending them flying up to the roof.
"Yea!" Benny answered after one gasp of "ohmygodthatwassocoolcanwedoitagain", causing Jason to laugh as he retracted his grappling gun.
"You're gonna have to fill me in on all the details," he said, to which Benny happily obliged. Of course, these were largely details Jason already knew, seeing as he'd triple vetted the family Maria ended up with before helping push the process along to speed things up, but it was nice to listen to Benny talk.
Talia kept warning him that if he spent all his time keeping tabs on Gotham it would defeat the purpose of leaving in the first place, but she never failed to give him any resource he needed. She also didn't fail to cut him off when she thought he was spiraling too fast and neglecting to do things for himself, like read for fun, eat healthy, and sleep at a reasonable hour. Or if she saw him shirking the meditation exercises she taught him to help control the Pit.
(The ones he never did when he was in Gotham by himself, unless his vision was completely green and all he could hear was the Pit's voice hissing kill kill kill.)
Or when she felt that they needed to take a spontaneous trip to Greece or Morocco or some other corner of the globe. Or if she felt like spending a weekend morning watching a random anime show while eating a breakfast spread they cooked together. Or when she'd curl up on the couch and they'd read their separate novels together, just enjoying the peace of each other's presence.
(He didn't think too much about how Talia reminded him of Catherine. The good Catherine, before the drugs took her.)
Eventually, they made it back to the orphanage, with Jason slipping Benny into his room through the window. He made a mental note to go through his cowl footage later and screenshot the image of Benny's bug-eyed roommate when he saw The Red Hood coming through the window.
"Hey Hood?" Benny called out as Jason was getting ready to leave into the night.
"Yes?"
"Are you...are you back now?" he asked, and Jason hated how much borderline hope was in the boys eyes at the question. Hated the pang of guilt in his chest that screamed you're abandoning all of them just because of your problems with Bruce. Hated the small whispers of the Pit in the back of his mind, reminding him how much easier it would be to just kill Bruce, kill the rapists, kill the pedophiles.
(He kept reminding himself that those whispers were the Pit, not Jason. And these kids needed Jason, not the Pit.)
"Not yet," he answered. "Just stopping by to let people know that I'm not dead. I'm figuring somethings out, but I'll be home soon."
"Ok."
"I promise," Jason said. "Before spring ends, I'll be back."
At that, Benny's face brightened up.
Because The Red Hood didn't lie.
…
He found Talia the next morning in her home office, at the Metropolis penthouse they'd been staying at in between their various globe-trotting adventures the last few months. She was working studiously on a stack of paperwork, all while also barking something in Italian on her phone and glancing in annoyance at some e-mails on her work monitor.
Jason plopped down lazily on the chair opposite her table, content to listen to her issue vague business threats to whichever idiot had messed up some supply chain in Florence. Last week he listened to a CFO of one of their subsidiary companies in France try to explain why he'd expensed his mistress's wardrobe on the company dime. The week before that she'd dressed down the entire board after an expose revealed that the company had been outsourcing to factories that hired child labor in Southeast Asia.
There was something comforting about watching her at work. Maybe it was because listening to Talia command the company with such precision was a stark contrast to Bruce's laissez-faire approach to Wayne Enterprises. Or maybe it was because it made him giggle like a little schoolchild watching the Daughter of the Demon's Head deal with the kind of idiotic mistakes she never had to endure when her underlings were worried about dying.
"Would it be too much to assume that you're here for something other than your own amusement?" Talia asked dryly, having finished her call while Jason let his thoughts wander.
"Is it really that hard to think I'm not just here for your company?" he retorted.
She looked at him skeptically, filing her paperwork away. "You were in Gotham last night."
Jason straightened up instinctively, which he reprimanded himself for because I'm not trying to hide that from her but instincts were instincts and his were always so damn defensive.
"Yea. I was due for another check in," he answered.
"And?" she asked.
"And things are slowly getting worse. The kids are starting to feel it, and people are thinking The Red Hood is in hiding."
"I told you, you have my full resources at your disposal to protect those that need it."
"And I appreciate that so much but it isn't enough T. Things need to change. Big things, and no one is doing it. The longer I've stayed away, the more I realized that even what I was doing wasn't enough. Just another band-aid," he added bitterly.
Talia gave him a small, if not slightly sad smile. "I presume this means you have decided to return to Gotham. For good."
He sighed. "I have to T. I can't just…I can't just keep popping in and out every few weeks. The kids need me."
"They need you at your best," she responded, the words cutting to the heart of his own self-imposed exile from the city. You can't help others without helping yourself.
"You're right," Jason acquiesced. "And before you start, I completely agree. Going back as The Red Hood and trying to do things the way I did it before is a horrible idea."
"Is it too much to hope you will be shunning your nightlife for good then? Returning in some other capacity?"
"No," he answered immediately. "But also yes."
At that Talia raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued. "Yes, The Red Hood will be back. But if I'm going back, and I am going back, I need to go back as a real person. With a real identity. A permanent one."
"Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Is…are you planning on resurrecting yourself?" she asked cautiously. While she had long encouraged Jason to adopt a true identity outside of his vigilante persona, it was no secret what she thought of Jason Todd-Wayne returning.
"No," he said, with more than a little venom. "I'm not going to put myself back under his thumb again. Even though it would be poetic justice to come back and be a completely ass about it, I'd end up having to do all the Wayne family shit and there's no way I'm dealing with all that fuckery."
"Language," Talia said, without any heat. "So then what do you have in mind?"
"Well to be honest, I was kind of hoping to come back as Jason….Head."
"Oh." She looked at him curiously, a smile flitting the edges of her mouth. "You know you already have that identity?"
"Yea," he answered sheepishly. "But it's just another ID to rotate in and out. This would mean putting it out front and center. Giving it a real framework. Making it permanent."
Talia let out an exasperated sigh. "And you felt the need to ask my permission for this?"
"Well, it's your last name. And you'd have to officially take me on as family. In public and all that."
She gave Jason a look. "Jason, habibi, you are already my son. That was not my intention when I found you wandering the filthy streets of Gotham, but that is what happened and it changed my life for the better. I could not be happier that you would return, legally, as my own." She gave him a wide smile, and his anxiety started to melt away. "After all, this means I get to brag about being your mother to the whole world.""
His felt the heat creep up his neck, his cheeks reddening from the discomfort of such overt parental emotion.
(And he didn't want to think about what that said about his messy past with parents.)
"That's great, because I'm going to need your support for what I want to do. For what I want the real me, Jason, to do, not just The Red Hood."
"Which is?"
"I'm taking very problem that I ever faced or saw as a kid, and then I'm going to do what I wish the people in charge would've done when I was stuck in the streets. Safe shelters. Orphanages that aren't abusive. Housing that isn't falling apart. A way to actually get a job. A life that isn't just a miserable existence, every day trying to figure out which trash can you can eat out of," he said, standing up to pace as he tended to do when he got excited.
He spent the next hour or so explaining the major points of his plan to her, starting with what he'd learned during his experience as Red Hood and going through the steps he'd already started to take to lay the groundwork. It really wasn't that hard to coordinate Jason Head's plans with what The Red Hood was going to do.
Affordable Housing? In theory, there were already plenty of units available. In reality they were grossly mismanaged, which mean that various subsidiaries of Head Industries would be buying said existing properties and installing new management. Management that didn't harass its residents. Or tolerate criminal behavior. Or conveniently forget to maintain their buildings until residents started dying from mold or faulty electrical wiring.
Sure, there were some existing owners who either weren't interested in losing their cash cow, or were too far in bed with the criminal elements that used their properties. In those cases, a few late night visits could convince them to change their mind rather swiftly.
Need a job? Or an education? Jason had plans to start programs to assist with after school tutoring, studying for the GED, and provide job workshops from teenagers to senior citizens. Nothing revolutionary, but something he could do building off the models Wayne Enterprises had already setup.
Need food? The various food shelfs and homeless shelters in Crime Alley, The Narrows, and The Bowery would all get a sudden increase in spending. Several of those same shelters would also get sudden and permanent changes in management, which would likely correlate with a massive decrease in corruption. Whether those changes were carried out willingly wasn't really important to Jason.
Drug abuse problem? The plethora of laughable existing programs would get makeovers, but the crown jewel would be the eventual opening of the Catherine Johnson Community Center. Named after his original mother under her maiden name, Jason planned to have his personal office in that building and oversee everything from there.
Right in the heart of what would be a rejuvenated Park Row.
And as for the decrepit orphanages the kids trusted him to steer them clear of? The sudden influx in generous donations to existing orphanages from Head Industries would give him another avenue to aggressively root out the abusive staff he hadn't already found. He briefly considered using the League of Shadows, but decided instead that it would be better to use Talia's army of corporate lawyers to shut down orphanages that seemed beyond repair. The kids could be relocated to new orphanages that Head Industries, or hell, Wayne Enterprises, built.
Sure, it would be slower than beating the right people to a bloody pulp or using League operatives to do the dirty work, but those avenues would only give Bruce an excuse to get in his way. The more aboveboard this plan remained, the less opportunity there was for anyone to run interference.
"Even putting all of these places under The Red Hood's protection is going to have to be a temporary fix. Somehow I'm going to need to get enough GCPD cops and CPS officials I can trust to do their jobs properly," he lamented mid-explanation.
"Remind me again, how exactly is all of this going to be funded?" Talia asked
"Well, we have to keep it as clean as possible. Can't risk getting an orphanage shut down because Bruce or one of his soldiers traced the funding back to The Red Hood or one of the League's affiliates."
"You do realize that all of the Red Hood's money is affiliated with the League?" Talia retorted.
"Yea well, details. The point is, Head Industries is going to open a massive outreach program with enormous funding. Sure, we'll lose money upfront, but we'll get it back and then some down the road when the community turns around. And we can write off the losses in taxes or whatever."
Talia resisted rolling her eyes at his blatant nonchalance at spending hundreds of millions of dollars on what was essentially a privatized infrastructure project. It didn't go unnoticed by her that he was using 'we' in reference to Head Industries. "Seeing as how I still technically have to answer to Luthor, I presume you're relying on his eagerness to annoy Bruce as leverage to okay this sudden expansion into Gotham. And my hiring you to oversee it."
Jason shot her a wolfish grin. "Well, that too. Just like Bruce, Luthor is perfectly willing to toss dollars down the drain just to piss someone off. Even if it does have the unintended side effect of helping out some poor people."
He finished by walking her through the meticulous, time consuming groundwork he'd started over the last few months. Even with her resources, it had been hard. It involved incognito reconnaissance in Gotham to keep tabs on the various factors at play, with each outing risking Oracle or one of the other Bats noticing his presence. It meant showing up as The Red Hood with increasing frequency to break bones, reassure the downtrodden, and make sure his workers stayed in line.
It was something he'd been planning before he left Gotham, but not something he was capable of executing without a clear head.
Or without her support.
When he was done laying out the entire plan, he stopped pacing and glanced over at Talia, who was leaning back in her chair, mulling over the details.
"This is an admirable undertaking, one worthy of your time and your heart, but it is a massive one. And, frankly, something I'm surprised you didn't attempt earlier." With Bruce went unsaid.
"I wanted to do something like it. Before…" Before I died. He swallowed hard hating how painful it still was to talk about his previous life, when he wasn't using his death as a barb against one of the Bats. "Anyway, I was too young to think it through and when I saw Bruce throwing money at the problem, I trusted that he was doing whatever could be done to fix things."
"And he wasn't?"
Jason snorted. For as much of a genius as Bruce was, it was amazing how idiotic he was when it came to combatting poverty and the various socioeconomic problems that ailed Gotham.
"He never really understood what kind of desperation hits the people in Crime Alley, or the Narrows. And to be honest, I don't think he ever really wanted to. Not after his parents died. So yea, he threw money at it, and it helped, but only a little bit. If he focused on it the way he focused on being Batman, maybe Crime Alley could have actually gone back to being Park Row."
He gave Talia a determined look.
"But this, this isn't about my problems with Bruce and I'm not going to let them sidetrack me. This is about my people. My home. And about changing things for good."
"Then you will have my full support Habbibi."
…
"Ugh, I forgot how much I hated putting on ties," Jason complained, finagling with his tie in the mirror. In the reflection he could see Talia glance at him with a sardonic look.
"I suppose you could just barge out there in sweats."
"I wish. Unfortunately, that'd probably distract from the larger purpose of today's event."
"Is that so?" she said, humorously. "Maybe they won't notice me introducing my son if your outfit isn't prim enough."
Jason huffed.
"Are you pouting?" she asked, without looking back at him as she rummaged through some packaging.
"No."
She looked over at his expression, which was most certainly a pout, and laughed, causing his pout to deepen. "Forgive me if I don't enjoy a laugh at my son's expense every now and then."
"Let's just get this over with," Jason said, finally getting the tie to knot properly and tighten to a respectful degree.
"Before we do, I have a gift for you."
"Oh?" he asked as he turned around.
"An office-warming present, for when you move back to Gotham," she said, handing him a rectangular plaque. "I do think this commemorates your journey well."
Inscribed onto the front of the plaque in strong, bold letters was his name and title: Director of Community Outreach. Turning it over, he saw there was an elaborate inscription written in gold into the black rear.
It read: "A man travels the world in search of what he needs. He returns home to find it."
He smiled. "Yeah, I think it will."
…
"And I'm happy to announce that not only will we be proceeding with our new Gotham Community outreach programs ahead of schedule, but we have already anointed someone very special to oversee these massive new endeavors. I'm pleased, and extremely proud to welcome our new Director of Community Outreach, my son, Jason Head."
Bruce hit pause, and then rewind. It was the tenth, maybe eleventh time he'd gone through the footage.
"My son, Jason Head."
As it was, Bruce was barely holding it together himself. He knew Jason had been hiding with Talia, but the thought that he'd been hiding right under all of their noses in Metropolis made his stomach churn.
"My son, Jason Head."
"Happy," Cass said, appearing before him in that quiet, sudden way that only she could. "Jason looks happy." She repeated, before looking at Bruce with her all-seeing eyes.
He knew his body language was showing some mixture of disgust, hostility, and guilt in waves. At that particular moment he didn't care, but Cass must have because she poked him rather aggressively. "You should be happy too. Happy for him. Not for you to decide."
His sulk deepened, and he didn't say anything while Cass stared at him, stewing in the meaning behind those words.
"It's not for you to decide, Bruce." Barbara had told him that when she cut him off from using Oracle resources in their search for Jason, arguing that they'd done enough damage and that Jason would come back to them when he wanted. If he wanted. Not only that, but he now suspected Barbara had been interfering with his own search for Jason, running cloaking algorithms in the Batcomputer because there was no way he would have missed him in Metropolis otherwise.
To his horror, her sentiment was a rather common viewpoint among his younger children. It seemed that only Dick saw Talia as a bigger danger to Jason than the Manor, where he was safe.
"I'm not going to make him stick with the guy who slit his throat." Of all of them, Stephanie had been the most heated about respecting Jason's wishes. She'd also made good distance between herself and Bruce, unable to hide her disgust over what he did that night.
(Bruce didn't, couldn't blame her. He still hated himself for that. But he wouldn't let it interfere in duties as Batman.)
Bruce heard the sound of the entrance to the manor being opened and closed, signaling Cass's exit, and rubbed his temples. Jason had been in Gotham last night. Police reports confirmed it, but once again he'd been too slow to catch up to him before he disappeared.
He clicked rewind again.
"My son, Jason Head."
The only thing worse than Talia's infuriatingly genuine grin was the look on Jason's face as he stood there by her side, getting introduced to the world as the son of a woman who'd literally kidnapped his comatose body off the streets. A look that Bruce the father would kill to see directed at him. A look that Jason had demanded Bruce kill in service of.
Bruce wondered if Talia had earned that look before or after she'd killed The Joker.
He was too scared of what the answer could be. Could mean about his own failures as a parent.
Because Cass was right. Jason looked happy.