Chapter Text
He could call.
It wouldn't take much.
He had memorized the phone number of the manor just a few days after he had started living there.
He could call.
Barbara would track his phone number and he would be on his way back home.
Home…
He hadn’t thought of the manor as home for months now, but if Dick had been trustful— and he seldom wasn’t— it still could be. Dick had said there would be no repercussions— that they were only looking to rehabilitate him and integrate him back into the family— but Jason knew better.
The damned spot couldn’t be washed out.
He had a plan. He had to stick to the plan. It was already too late to go back.
The alarm beeped bringing him out of his mental slumber and he arose from his bed. He hadn’t slept at all— he hadn’t slept since Bruce died— but he didn’t feel tired. He didn’t feel much those days, but he had to keep pushing. He was so close, even though his list of names kept getting longer.
It would be all worth it in the end.
He had lost so much time planning for Two-Face— and he had had it! It would have been so easy to just pull the trigger if it hadn’t been for that kid— but now Harvey Dent was back in police custody. He now had to re-plan his execution for when he inevitably escaped from Arkham and maybe have to move some of the less important ones a few months—
It would cause some shifts in his overall schedule but it could be achieved.
—-
Jason had eyes on the creepy doll.
Bruce had always said that the thing wasn’t demonic and that it was just the user projecting into the dummy. Jason wasn't too sure about that, and just in case he had brought extra ammunition for his precision rifle.
The setup was ready and it was just a matter of time waiting for the perfect shot—
“Robin,” a voice called from somewhere behind him, and Jason almost turned around to tell B to “fuck off” and to let him work except….
B had been dead for six months now.
Jason felt the air rushing out of his lungs and a warm sting begin to form behind his eyes.
He had been over it. That's what killing Joker had been about. He had gotten his revenge.
It should have been enough.
Why wasn’t it enough?
“Robin,” the voice called again, and it took a moment for Jason’s brain to reboot and finally notice that it wasn’t the voice wasn’t the low, rough-sounding one he had expected, but that of a kid.
“Spooky kid?” Jason said having turned around and taken in the sight of the ten-year-old that had stopped him from killing Two Face.
For two days, Jason had been seething over the fact, but now that he was face to face with the kid again he— well he didn’t know what he was feeling, but it wasn’t anger.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
The kid looked at him with the most determined face Jason had ever seen in someone so young and promptly pointed at the rifle.
“Robin, you have to be strong. Batman—“
“Yeah, no shit. You said the same thing in our last meeting,” Jason said, standing up from his crouched position and making his way over to the kid. “I mean what the fuck are you doing at 3 a.m. on a rooftop in the fucking Narrows? How— why?”
“I followed you,” the kid said bluntly.
And that somehow didn’t make Jason feel any better.
“How did you follow me?”
“I figured out what your most likely target would be.”
Jason decided to ignore the significance of what the kid said and instead turned his attention back to the scene below. If he didn’t take the shot soon, he would lose his chance and that would mean even more planning. But the kid—
Shit.
The kid.
He couldn’t just shoot someone in front of the kid— he had probably seen stuff like that before (this was Gotham after all) but still—
“Go home, kid.”
“No, Robin-“
“Go home, kid.”
“Jason!”
“What the fuck did you just call me?” Jason asked, his blood running cold.
The kid looked sheepish, but he didn’t falter under Jason’s glare.
“Jason,” he repeated, “this isn’t you.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“You are not doing this out of any sense of Justice—“
“Are you going to tell me he isn’t deserving of this? He is the Ventriloquist—“
“Yes, he might deserve it, but it isn’t like you are doing this because he deserves it. You are doing this because you are hurt.”
Jason felt a gut punch.
“How do you even know that?”
“I’ve been following you.”
And Jason had so many questions but the kid just continued—
“I know what happened to Bruce— gosh, I know how much he meant to you— but this isn’t the way. It isn’t what he would have wanted.”
Jason stared at the kid.
The kid stared back.
—-
Being kidnapped was honestly a way better outcome than what Tim had expected. When he had stepped in the first time, he had just expected to get shot immediately but things had turned out pretty well.
Now, he had successfully stopped two assassination attempts and it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss him if he was gone for a bit longer.
The last time he had been kidnapped it hadn’t been for more than a week and his capturers had let him go after finding out there was no way to contact his parents for a ransom. Tim didn’t expect the Bats to hold him for too long.
Tim tried to not show too much excitement from where he was sitting down next to the Batcomputer as Nightwing— dressed as Batman— and Red Robin fought in hushed tones.
“That’s a whole child, Jason.” Dick was saying.
“Yes, and now he is your problem,” Jason said as he turned around and started making his way over to his motorcycle.
“Where are you going?” Dick yelled.
“Back to my safe house.”
“You should stay. We will talk more in the morning.”
“No way,” he said putting his helmet on, “I brought you the security problem, now I get to leave.”
The loud roar of the bike filled the cave, but just as suddenly as it had started it was gone.
Nightwing turned around and stared at Tim.
Tim stared back.