Chapter Text
God he fucking hated Wednesdays.
It was a Wednesday when Jason's mother had died. It was also a Wednesday when he ran from CPS for the first, and certainly not the last, time.
It was a Wednesday when he had been beaten up by some older Crime Alley kids so bad that he couldn't walk for a week.
It was also a Wednesday when he died.
And it was a Wednesday when his life took a turn.
Well, a Turn back in time would be a more specific wording choice to this certain situation.
How did he get here? No fucking clue. Was it interfering with his plans for the evening? Yes. Quite a bit.
The night was cool and quiet, a breeze was beginning to pick up it's pace, and Jason (or Red Hood for this particular outing) had been hot on a human trafficking ring's trail.
As he grabbed onto a pipe, hoisting himself up onto the roof, he heard the deafening sound of a gunshot. The sound echoed and rang in his ears and he swore, running for cover.
Another couple shots were haphazardly aimed in his direction. The forth shot got him right in the leg, he cursed again under his breath.
He took a dive behind a vent and cupped his thigh. As his body tingled from the rapid blood loss he loaded up his hand gun, trying to think for the next few moments.
The breeze turned into a fast flowing wind, and when it began to rush past his face his vision danced with black spots. He aimed at the person shooting at him, satisfied when he heard a body drop.
He heaved, and as his heart raced his thoughts raced through the fog in his head.
Wouldn't it be great to go back in time and stop this shitshow from happening? To stop him from becoming who he was now?
If only he were one for believing in wishes and dreams.
He got to his feet and wobbled to the edge of the building, leaning over to look at where he last saw the scum he'd been chasing. Unfortunately they were gone.
He sighed in agitation. The wind was whipping around him quite violently now, though he only took notice once he staggered over to the ledge.
Just as he composed himself the wind suddenly stopped. He looked up and around, clearly confused.
This definitely wasn't the same roof he had been on before. Looking around at the old stony buildings he realised that he was likely in Gotham. How had he not noticed that big of a jump? From Blüdhaven to Gotham… something wasn't right.
Jason's body felt cold. An observation that made him realise his grip on his thigh had loosened, and just as he was about to readjust it a voice rang out behind him.
"You look a little lost there, need some help?" Recognition set in instantly and Jason's stomach dropped. He whipped around, hoping that he was just hallucinating, hoping it was just a similar voice. Because honestly it couldn't be who he thought it was. He couldn't have heard that voice.
His eyes meet with the white of a standard black and white Domino mask. By the time he can fully take in the rest of the person's features-- black unruly hair, red, green and yellow costume-- he already knows.
That voice was his.
And it came from him.
But he was standing in front of himself. Shorter, smaller, younger.
God his head was starting to hurt.
"No." He choked out.
"No?" His eyes traced himself. God that was weird to think about . "You're bleeding."
"Yes, I am."
"You're doing an awful job at stopping the bleeding, you know that right," he took a step toward Hood, and Hood took a step back, swaying. His heart was starting to beat faster.
A strange sense of vertigo took over him, and that's when he realised, with a sinking sensation in his stomach, the bullet must have been laced with something.
And he must have said it out loud, because his younger doppelganger took several close steps towards him. Hood pushed him away as much as he could with heavy limbs.
"You're supposed to be dead." He said, looking himself in the eye.
His vision swirled once again, his breathing felt hot. Too hot. He pressed to the back of his mask. He needed air-- he couldn't breath.
It crashed to the ground, and soon he followed. Darkness filling his vision.
Jason awoke to the distant sound of chattering and beeping. His eyes ached and his body seemed to sink further into the bed he was laying on, the more he willed himself to sit up.
He opened his eyes, vaguely realising the lack of a mask on his face, and met with the familiar white ceiling of what he thought was the medbay in the Batcave.
Wait. Batcave?
Fuck.
He sat up, pulling the clip off his finger and tugging out the IV. He looked around quickly, seeing his Helmet on his nightstand he snagged it, put it on, and then stood up properly.
He almost fell over, but quickly regained his balance before pulling back the curtains. The voices got louder, and he annoyingly enough, recognised both of them. He grabbed a small knife from his boot keeping it hidden in his hand, just in case.
He moved across the room to the exit, and saw across the Cave. Nightwing and Bruce were talking, or more accurately, arguing with each other.
Bruce was more focused on something on his computer, and Dick was leaning on the Console.
Even from across the Cave, he could tell that the man was younger. Judging by the fact that the suit he was wearing was his second version, well that and the shorter hair he wore.
He looked around the entrance, and spotted a certain familiar bird sitting on the floor. At the same time, he seemed to also notice him, and opened his mouth to speak.
Jason rushed over, clamping a hand over the boy's mouth
He stilled at the sound of a louder voice throughout the Cave.
"It appears your guest has awoken, sir."
Alfred spoke, stepping into the Cave.
The other Jason took the distraction as an opening to kick Jason off and away from himself.
Bruce and Dick rushed over as Jason landed on his back, partially winded.
"Robin! What are you doing?" Bruce asked, stepping forward, and Jason held in a laugh as the other Jason stood up, sputtering.
"He--"
"Yeah come on Little wing, he's hurt." Dick interrupted with a smirk.
Jason picked up the knife that fell from his hand and stood up. Dick seemed to notice the weapon, and put his hands up.
"Woah, were not here to hurt you. Hey, how are you even awake? You lost a lot of blood," he took a glance at the other two, worry clear on his face.
"I've lost more." He growled out, inching back to the wall. It wasn't totally a lie. But that specific time he was thinking about did technically kill him. So..
"Why did you bring me here?"
Dick shrugged, "You needed assistance."
"Usually you don't care," he bit out.
In return, he cocked an eyebrow, "Usually?"
Bruce took that moment to step in.
"I made the decision to bring you here, after we had some inquiries about a few things. All we want is to assist you, then talk. You can proceed as you like from there."
Jason leaned back, flipping the knife in his hand, contemplating the offer. They didn't know who he was, clearly. Whether he had gone back in time or skipped over into an alternate universe, it didn't matter.
"What are they?"
"Perhaps we should all sit down and have a hot drink, hm?" Alfred spoke up from behind them, sporting a Domino mask of his very own.
--
"While you were unconscious, you needed a blood transfusion. Meaning a couple things. The first, is that you should be unconscious right now, but aren't.
The second point involves the tests that we did to find a match for the transfusion."
Jason could guess when Bruce was going with this. But he stayed silent, sitting on the hospital bed, twirling the knife in his hand.
"I think I can guess what you're going to say."
Bruce made an affirmative noise.
"Then would you care to explain why your DNA matches exactly with Robin's?"
"With Jason's? Hm, well, probably because we're the same person. Give or take a few years."
He watched for his reaction, and seeing how he only tensed at the words, it was likely one of his running theories.
"I figured as much," his calm demeanour was not matched by Dick and the other Jason.
"He's WHAT?!" Dick Exclaimed, but Jason just stared.
"Why are you dressed like that if you're me?" Other Jason mumbled out but Jason simply sighed.
"It's a long story. One I'm not quite up for telling." He turned to face away.
"How did you get here?" Bruce spoke up again. Jason shrugged.
"I was tailing a lead on a human trafficking ring that had been a pain in my ass all weak when someone started shooting at me. As you can guess, I got shot. Somehow I went from West Blüdhaven to Gotham. You know the rest."
Bruce got up and ushered Dick and Other Jason out when Alfred shuffled in.
"Perhaps you should consider resting, After all, you did lose a lot of blood. It's a wonder you're awake at this moment," he set down a tray with a plate of food and water, gesturing towards the tray with his hand, "but since you are awake, eating something may be a good idea."
"Thanks Alf," he huffed out, laying back in the bed. The man nodded, stepping out of the room along with Dick and Bruce, but the other Jason hung around.
After a solid minute of staring Jason grew tired of it, sat up and started in on his food.
"You gonna ask your questions or stand there all night."
He seemed to sputter at this, but composed himself quickly.
"Um, is your hair dyed like that? Or are you ageing really fast?" Jason shot him a glare.
"No, it's a side effect from dying."
"I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not,"
"Good," Jason turned back to his meal. With hesitation, the other Jason left.
God what the hell had he gotten himself into.
If Jason weren't so tired, he would have taken the opportunity to get out of the cave. However, he wouldn't have anywhere to go, since all of his safehouses didn't exist yet. He laid back down, forgetting his meal just for a moment. He closed his eyes, slowly drifting off.