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Chapter Text

Dying was natural. If there was anything natural about being beaten to death by a clown with a crowbar and blown up. Coming back to life was less natural, but not unheard of. Jason would personally not recommend having to dig your way out of your grave, but whatever universe-controlling entity that was running this show didn’t seem to care for his opinions. 

Dying twice was just a natural consequence of his resurrection. Sure, he’d expected to be kicking around for more than a year or so after his miraculous return, but he supposed accidentally spooking a tiny assassin child and getting stabbed to death was a funny enough way to go. His life was a joke after all.

Now, coming back to life a second time was completely unexpected, and a little fucking bonkers. He didn’t even need a dip in the Lazarus Pit to get his bearings this time. He just woke up to Talia scolding her demon child over his should-be-dead body. The look on Talia’s face when he sat up was two parts shock, three parts relief and one part fear. As she swore her demon child to secrecy over his miraculous recovery, Jason realised that it wasn’t fear of him. It was fear for him. This kind of resurrection bullshit really got Ra’s wet after all.

While the demon child was fairly obedient, he was also a little shit, and killing Jason became something of a secret game. Before Talia could explain to him that Jason may not keep coming back to life, the brat had already killed him three more times. But Jason did come back to life. He came back every time. Even when it got to the point where Jason could sense the little assassin’s presence and fend him off without a thought, Jason let the kid get a fatal blow in every now and again. What could he say, the shit had grown on him and the coming back to life thing seemed pretty assured at this point. Jason could handle a bit of pain to observe his new little brother’s delight when he opened his eyes again. Damian knew how to make his death quick so it was fine. 

Jason must have grown on the kid back, because eventually Damian stopped murdering him entirely, and settled for first blood. When Jason had finally finished his League training and was ready to go back to Gotham, the demon brat even gave him a hug. A hug that didn’t end with a knife it his back. Jason called that progress. He almost wanted to stay with his new brother, but Gotham would always be his home and he had clown-shaped unfinished business to attend to.

When Jason got back to Gotham, he wasted no time before he got to work setting up his crime empire as the Red Hood. He put the fear of probably-not-god into the scum of crime alley and laid down his rules about not messing with kids or the working girls. Then he employed as many people as he could (with benefits) and set up a few shelters with his crime lord proceeds. Jason hated drugs but the business was fairly lucrative. If someone had to be selling that shit, at least it was someone who cared about the buyers.

The bats certainly didn’t like his murder-happy methods, but as he’d predicted, they hadn’t made him a priority either. Red Hood only killed the absolute scum of the earth. Really, a quick death for those shit stains was an act of mercy on Jason’s part. Bats didn’t condone killing, but they had bigger fish to fry than the Red Hood putting down pedophiles. That was about to change. Because Jason was about to make Batman suffer for his spinelessness and ensure there’d never be a Robin ever again.

As Red Hood used his old codes to walk into Titans Tower, the Green sung to him in anticipation. He tried to smother it slightly. He didn’t want to kill his replacement after all. He just wanted to clip the bird’s wings. Batman should have known better than to put another bird in the colours. Robin should have died with him and now he was going to make sure that was the case.

Red Hood moved through the tower like a shadow. He wasn’t worried about the super-powered teeny boppers, as he’d made sure to pick a day when Robin was alone in the tower, but he wanted to give the replacement the surprise of his life. He crept into the kitchen and found the spoilt little rich kid hunched over the coffee machine. Jason grinned darkly. This was it.

He crept closer until he was looming over the replacement. The up close view of the traffic light coloured suit was fuelling the Green nicely and soon all he could see was that Green. Red Hood drew himself to his full height as the replacement continued to curse over the coffee machine.

“Ready to die, little birdie?” He rumbled.

The replacement shrieked and spun around. There was a flash of silver and he had just enough time to register that the replacement had a knife before it was lodged in his neck. Unfortunately, after so long with the demon brat, a small black-haired knife-wielding child no longer triggered the pressing instinct to dodge. So then Jason died. Again.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Tim chanted as he stared at the crime lord on the ground with a kitchen knife in his neck. How did this happen? Tim had just been trying to fix the coffee machine, using the knife to undo a few screws because he was too sleep deprived to find the tool kit. Everyone who usually stayed in the tower knew not to sneak up on Tim when he hadn’t had his coffee. It didn’t usually matter when he was startled enough to reflexively lash out because Kon was indestructible and Bart had better reflexes and Cassie knew how to announce her presence before getting too close. This random Gotham anti-hero was not supposed to be here, giving him the fright of his life, and causing him to unthinkingly strike with the knife he’d been holding.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

He’d killed someone. Batman was not going to like this at all. There was no way he’d be Robin after this. Tim crouched over the dead crime lord and shakily ran his hands over the red helmet until he found the latches. He knew batman electrified his cowl and was smart enough to spot and avoid the explosive triggers built into the helmet. What kind of crazy person attached explosives to their head? Still numb with shock, Tim eased off the helmet so he could see the face of the man he’d just killed.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”

His brain crashed. That wasn’t just a random anti-hero/vigilante crime lord. That was Jason fucking Todd. He’d just killed Robin! He’d just killed his hero. And yes, Jason Todd had already been dead, but he wasn’t sure that excuse would hold up with Batman considering he’d just killed the man’s dead son. Forget not being Robin, Batman was going to throw him in Arkham Asylum. And Tim would deserve it because he’d just killed his childhood hero! Tim’s tears had unstuck his mask enough that he had to peal it off.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I killed Jason.”

Tim was so wrapped up in his freakout that he didn’t notice the knife slowly push itself out of Jason’s neck. Nor did he notice Jason’s wound closing over or the dead man sitting up.

Jason wasn’t sure how long he’d been dead when he joined the land of the living again. The first thing he noticed was that his helmet was off and in the hands of the replacement. The kid was pacing back and forth and mumbling to himself just loudly enough for Jason to hear.

“I killed Jason. I killed Jason. I killed Jason. Can I be convicted for killing someone who was already dead? It was an accident so it’s only manslaughter right? Accidents happen, right? No, I don’t think Batman will care that it was an accident. Batman is going to put me in Arkham and then he’s going to spiral again because his dead son has died again but this time it’s my fault and I won’t be able to help him. No, no, no. Batman can’t find out about this. This will break him. This one will truely break him. He can’t know. Acid! I’ll dissolve the body in acid. I’ll scrub the footage from the tower. No one has to know about this. No one has to know.”

That’s when the kid turned back to find Jason sitting up and staring at him with an amused smile. Jason wanted to be mad at the kid for killing him, but he couldn’t even muster up a whisper of Green right now. Dying was always something of a factory reset. It took the Green a hot minute to creep back in after a resurrection. Even if the Green was here, he wasn’t sure he’d be mad anyway. Because his replacement really was just a freaked out kid. A kid. Red Hood didn’t hurt kids. Jason had been trying his level best not to recognise the new Robin as a kid before. Robin’s were targets after all. It was different. 

But he couldn’t think that way now. That misconception had been stabbed out of him. Fucking Damian had made small black-haired stabbers synonymous with little brother in his mind and now he was remembering that the new Robin technically was his little brother. They were both kind of Bruce’s after all. That counted, right? Jason had unthinkingly come here to beat up his little brother. Not cool, Green. Not cool. Jason prided himself on being a good older brother and he wanted to keep that pride intact.

Besides, game recognises game. Jason could appreciate the little psycho’s clean kill and willingness to break out the body-dissolving acid. This kid was adorable. He’d been about to attack this adorable kid. And yes, the kid had totally killed him, but that didn’t make what Jason was going to do to him okay. Maybe the Green had been more in control than Jason had realised. The thought was chilling. He couldn’t let the Green have that much control again.

“Jason!” The kid, Tim, exclaimed as he processed Red Hood’s miraculous recovery. Tim leapt at him and Jason got a lap-full of weedy kid. Tim clung to him tightly, burying his face into Red Hood’s armour and sobbing aggressively. 

“I’m sorry,” the kid babbled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just get a little stabby when I haven’t had my coffee. No, I mean, I don’t usually stab people! I’m sorry I stabbed you! It was an accident I swear. You’re my hero. You were the best Robin. You were the Robin who cared. The Robin people recognised as one of their own. The Robin who walked among the alleys and stayed to comfort the victims. You were the Robin who made Batman laugh. I never got so many pictures of Batman smiling when Dick was Robin!”

That sentence triggered a memory for Jason. A memory of a little child, who used to run around Gotham in the night, lugging around an expensive camera. A child who he’d pulled off a broken fire escape and taken to get ice cream. A child who he’d often looked out for in his peripheral vision.

“Camera kid,” Jason grinned. “I remember you, you little stalker.”

This finally made the kid stop sobbing. Tim pulled back to stare at Jason with wide amazed eyes. “You remember me?” he asked.

“Sure,” Jason said. “I didn’t get ice cream with every kid I ran into, you know?”

Tim gave him a delighted smile. “It really is you,” he breathed. “Jason you’re alive.”

“No thanks to you,” Jason laughed and his new little brother got an adorably sheepish look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to kill you. Please don’t tell Bruce!”

Jason twitched at the mention of Batman and a bit of the Green brushed his mind. He pushed it away for the sake of the weedy teen in front of him. “No hard feelings, Timtam,” Jason offered. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Oh my gosh Bruce!” The kid exclaimed. “He’s going to be so happy. You’re alive, Jason. Bruce is going to be so happy! And Alfred! And Dick! And Barbra! They all miss you so much! They’re going to be so happy when you come home.”

Jason sighed. “I’m not going back to the Manor, kid.”

The look Tim shot him in response was heart wrenching. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“I know when I’m not wanted,” Jason said. “Batman fired me from Robin. Then I died and it meant nothing. The Joker is just as primed to murder people as usual. Then Batman replaced me before my body was even cold. I was the street trash and now Batman has a better model.”

Tim flinched. “That’s not true! Bruce loves you. You’re his son. He didn’t replace you. I made him take me as Robin. He wasn’t okay after you died. He was beating people half to death over petty crime and trying to get himself killed in the process. I had to be Robin. Batman needs a Robin and I thought you were dead. I’m sorry I took Robin from you. You can—You can have it back.” It looked like making the offer caused the kid physical pain, but Jason appreciated the effort.

“The suit’s probably a little small for me now. You can keep it. You’re a good Robin.” Jason tried not to think about the Robin costume he was wearing under his Red Hood clothes. Ripping off his suit to reveal a Robin costume seemed pretty fucking stupid now. What the hell had he been thinking? The Green really had been messing with his head too much. Even during his peak theatre kid days he hadn’t been that try-hard.

“So you’ll come home?”

“Timmers,” Jason sighed. “I— I can’t. The Joker is… Batman couldn’t even… My death meant nothing. I can’t go home. Not until Batman kills the clown.”

“Batman doesn’t kill,” Tim said. “If he killed the Joker then he couldn’t be batman anymore. He wanted to kill the Joker after you died, but superman stopped him from going through with it. He had to. The end of Batman couldn’t have been your legacy.”

“Batman can not-kill the rest of the time,” Jason insisted. “Joker is different. Joker killed me! He took me away. That should be enough reason. If he cared about me then he’d do it for me. But he doesn’t care. No one cares!”

“Dick killed the Joker,” Tim blurted desperately. “The Joker said he killed me and was taunting Nightwing about your death and Dick beat him to death. B-Someone resuscitated the Joker with CPR but he was still dead for a bit. That counts. If your death counts even though you’re alive now then Dick killing the joker counts too!”

Dickie had killed the Joker for him? Dickie had cared. Jason shook the thought away. Unfortunately for Tim, Jason knew how to read between the lines. Only one person would do CPR on someone like the Joker.

“He was dead and Batman revived him?!” Jason yelled. “All he had to do was let the monster stay dead and he couldn’t even do that!”

“Dick was freaking out,” Tim said. “Batman saved the Joker for him. He didn’t want Dick to be a murderer.”

Jason tried to keep the Green down but it was only getting more difficult. He couldn’t continue this conversation. He couldn’t think about Batman and the Joker anymore. He needed to go. In one smooth motion, Jason stood, taking the kid in his lap with him. He deposited Tim on the ground and shook his head. “I can’t, okay? I just can’t.”

Jason fled through the zeta tube to the sound of Tim calling his name.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take the criminal underworld long to realise the Red Hood had become fiercely protective of Robin. The first clue had been when a thug had tried to sneak up behind Robin with a crowbar and got a bullet to the knee. The second clue had been the vicious beating of two criminals after they had shot at Robin and Hood’s declaration that, “No hurting kids includes Robin, you fuckwits!” The third clue had been the dead bodies of two human traffickers, who had tried to sell a captured Robin to the highest bidder. No one had needed a fourth clue.

Batman and Nightwing did not know what to make of the crime lord’s protectiveness, but they could hardly be mad about it. When Nightwing had run into the Red Hood during a patrol in Gotham, the crime lord had been a lot friendlier than the last time. That was a low bar, but progress was progress. Even though he’d told Nightwing to fuck off, Red Hood had still saved the vigilante from someone sneaking up behind him. Red Hood also seemed to be on good terms with Oracle now. She occasionally hacked into Red Hood’s comms to direct him towards wherever Robin needed help, or to offer information on crimes happening in his territory.

When Batman approached the crime lord, it became clear that his sudden tolerance of Robin and Nightwing did not extend to the big bat. Batman didn’t know why Red Hood hated him and he still didn’t like the Red Hood’s methods, but he could admit their goals seemed to broadly align. Maybe if their relationship improved, Batman would be able to convince the Red Hood to stop killing. 

While Tim desperately wanted Jason to come home, he had done his best to respect Jason’s wishes and not bring the topic up. It had been difficult for the kid, but he worshipped Jason enough to try. However, even Tim’s arguably good self control was bound to fail eventually. One particular evening, when Jason had taken Tim back to a safe house to patch him up, Tim couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“They miss you,” he said. “Please come home. They’ll be so happy. And they don’t seem to mind the Red Hood now so they won’t be mad if they find out it’s you.”

“Timberly,” Jason sighed. “Timathan. Timjamin. Look, I can’t, okay? I’m sorry.”

“But why?” Tim demanded.

“You know why,” he said as he finished wrapping Tim’s ankle.

“What? Because Batman won’t kill the Joker? You know why he can’t do that. Batman has built his vigilante career on the idea that no one is irredeemable. And yes, that may not be true, but that’s not the point. If he decides that one person deserves to die, then it breaks the whole purpose of him. Batman can’t kill. It’s not what he stands for. That’s not what Gotham needs from him. Batman is the hope that people can be better. Surely you don’t really want him to ruin that?”

“So Joker should be left alive to keep periodically breaking out of Arkham and increasing his body count? At a certain point, Batman’s determination to keep the Joker alive makes him responsible for all the people the clown keeps killing.”

“That’s not fair,” Tim shot back. “The only person responsible for the Joker’s actions is the Joker.”

“Fine,” Jason said. “Then he should be held responsible for his actions and removed from this earth. Why does he get to endlessly kill with no lasting consequences?”

“You’re right,” Tim admitted. “The Joker is a monster who deserves to die. But that doesn’t mean Batman should destroy everything he’s built by killing him. If you want him dead so bad then why don’t you kill him?! Red Hood is all about killing, so kill him yourself!”

Jason couldn’t bring himself to speak for a minute as his eyes misted over. The look on Tim’s face showed that he knew he’d said something wrong, but he didn’t know why. Jason opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a choked sob. The older teen pulled his knees in and hugged his legs to his chest. He took a shuddering breath before he tried to speak again.

“I tried,” Jason admitted, tears falling down his face. “It was the first thing I did when I had the option. I came to Gotham, snuck into Arkham, and tried to kill the Joker but… But I couldn’t do it. I tried. I tried. But I just…” He let out another choked sob. “I just couldn’t. Then I thought, okay, I’ll go back to the league and I’ll train some more and I’ll come back and I’ll be able to. And so I trained for years, and came back to Gotham, became the Red Hood and I tried again but still I… I could be the Red Hood and kill everyone else’s demons. I could give everyone else the comfort I wanted. But doing it for myself… I want to— I want to— But I can’t do it.” 

Jason’s hands shook so he wrapped them tighter around his knees and buried his head under his arms. “I can’t kill the Joker. I find him but then he laughs and suddenly I’m back in Ethiopia and everything hurts and I’m suffocating and I can’t move. I can’t. I tried but I can’t. I thought maybe dad could… I thought he loved me enough that he would… For me he could… But you’re right. That was stupid of me. Batman doesn’t kill. I’ve always known that. Batman doesn’t kill. But it still hurts that he won’t. It hurts that no one can give me that peace. I can’t go home while it hurts so much. I can’t see Bruce and know that he can’t give me what I need.”

“Jason,” Tim gasped, his voice cracking. He wrapped his arms around the older boy and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

Jason unfolded himself so he could better hug his little brother. He pulled him in tightly and let his tears fall into Tim’s silky hair. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to do it myself. I should be strong enough. He needs to die and I should be able to do it.”

Tim felt his whole body shake with Jason’s sobs. “No,” Tim said. “No, Jason. You’re the strongest person I know. It shouldn’t be on you to face the Joker. Not after what he did to you. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

That was when Tim knew that Batman couldn’t kill the Joker and Red Hood couldn’t kill the Joker and Nightwing had already shown that he couldn’t live with killing the Joker either. That was when Tim knew that it was up to him. Tim had to kill the Joker because Jason needed Joker to die and no one else could kill him. But Tim could do it. He’d already killed after all. He’d killed Jason. Just because Jason came back to life it didn’t mean that Tim hadn’t done it. If he could kill Jason then he could definitely kill the Joker. He wouldn’t be able to be Robin after, but Batman wouldn’t need Tim to be Robin if Jason came home. Batman wouldn’t need Robin if Bruce could have his son back. Tim was the only one who could kill the Joker for Jason and so he would. He would do that for his hero.

Tim had to wait a month before the Joker broke out of Arkham Asylum and he finally had the opportunity to follow through on his promise to himself. He was with Jason when they got the news. The broadcast interrupted the movie they’d been watching together in one of Jason’s safe houses. Tim, who had been tucked under Jason’s arm, felt the older boy stiffen. Not knowing what else to do, Tim leapt for the remote and switched the tv off. He turned to Jason, whose breathing had become choppy, and tried to catch his gaze.

Jason seemed to look right through him as Tim tried to get his attention. “Jay,” Tim said, putting his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “You okay?”

The only response he got was a quiet whimper.

“You’re not there,” Tim tried. “You’re in Gotham. You’re safe. You’re in a safe house. Safe. It’s right in the name. He can’t hurt you here. No one can hurt you here.”

“Timogen?” Jason murmured.

Tim snorted at the nickname. “Yeah, Jay. It’s me. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“You,” Jason offered.

“Good, what else?”

Jason kept going with Tim’s encouragement. Naming what he could see, then what he could touch, hear, and smell. Tim made him a tea so he would have something to taste. By the end, Jason seemed more present, although he was still trembling.

“You’re okay,” Tim said as he led the older boy to his bedroom. “Everything is going to be okay now. I’m going to fix everything. You won’t have to worry anymore. Then you can come home.”

Jason hummed as Tim eased him into bed. Tim didn’t think Jason was fully taking in the words, but he looked comforted all the same. He let Tim tuck him in. Then the younger boy patted Jason’s hair and left the room. As soon as Tim had gently shut the door behind him, he started frantically gearing up. This was what he’d been waiting for. It was finally time for him to act.

Tim pulled out his phone and checked his sensors. Ever since he’d decided to kill the joker, he’d been laying down sensors in all of Joker’s probable haunts. It was imperative that he find the Joker before Batman did. Otherwise the whole cycle would start again. Four of the sensors were reporting activity so he planned a route to check those places first. He listened into radio chatter as he swung, looking for any hints of Joker’s activity.

Half an hour later, he had the Joker in sight. Tim shivered as he watched the Joker direct his goons. He had hoped the Joker would be alone so he could blow him sky high without getting close, but now he’d have to do this the hard way. Currently, he was crouching in a warehouse behind some crates. A quick peek in the crates revealed canisters of laughing gas and, even though Tim knew he had his rebreather and his spare, he double checked his equipment for the reassurance. He looked back at the Joker but didn’t spot him among the men.

Before Tim could reposition for a better vantage point, his vision exploded white and his brain rattled. He only registered that something had hit him in the back of the head when he was already on the ground. He heard a sickening laugh above him and the scrape of something metal against the concrete floor.

“Well, isn’t this a throwback,” the Joker said. “Are you here all alone, little birdie?”

Tim tried to get up but his head was spinning and he felt a rush of overpowering nausea. The Joker laughed again and suddenly he was being hauled to his feet by a vice-like grip on his neck. He should have just blown the warehouse up, goons be damned. Tim made a weak attempt to fend the Joker off but the blow to his head had ruined his coordination. He realised his plan was a total bust, so he pressed his distress beacon. Hopefully someone would arrive before the Joker hurt him too bad. Then he could try again next time the Joker broke out. Unless he messed it up again. How had his plan gone so wrong so quickly? “Fuck,” he managed as the Joker dragged him further into the warehouse.

More laughing. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Not really, Tim thought hysterically. His mum had never been one for physical affection and now she was dead.

Tim was flung on the ground and then there was a foot pressing down on his neck so firmly that it made him choke. He tried to push the foot off but his limbs were barely responding to him. He sucked in a sharp breath when the foot left his neck, only to scream when something slammed down on his arm. Broken. His arm was broken now. He tried to shift away from the Joker, who laughed and kicked him in his side. This was bad. This was very very bad.

Jason had sunk into his bed as Timmy left the room. He wanted to let his mind go and forget the world for a bit. He wanted to not think about the Joker’s escape and try to sleep. But something in Jason’s head was blaring with alarm. Something was wrong. He shouldn’t sleep. Why shouldn’t he sleep.

I’m going to fix everything. You won’t have to worry anymore. Then you can come home.

He snapped his eyes open, flung the covers off and leapt out of the bed. “Fuck,” he swore as he barrelled out of the room. Tim was gone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jason rushed to the window in time to see Robin swing out of sight. “What the fuck kind of stupid thing are you going to do, Timmy?” he asked as he frantically donned his armour and helmet. His little brother wasn’t there to respond.

Jason put his helmet on and activated the comms. “Oracle? Are you there? It’s an emergency.”

“Hood,” the robotic voice responded. “What do you need?”

“Robin’s gone after the Joker alone,” he told her as he left his safe house and ran for his motorcycle.

The swearing that followed didn’t suit the robotic voice that accompanied it. “I’m going to connect you to Batman and Nightwing.”

“Alright,” he responded as he drove off in the direction he had seen Robin swing away to. He didn’t have time to be hung up on not wanting to talk to Batman. Robin was more important.

“Hood? Where is Robin?” Batman demanded.

“I don’t know,” he snapped. “Last I saw he was heading towards the…” he choked on the word, “warehouse district, so that’s where I’m going too. Before he left, he said…He said some things that made me think he was going after the Joker. I didn’t realise until he was gone.”

“Why would he do that?” Nightwing gasped. “What did he say?”

“Who cares,” Jason snapped, his voice modulator making it sound like a mechanised growl. “You have trackers on him, don’t you? Find him right now.”

“They’re all locked with new encryptions,” Oracle informed them. “I don’t think he wanted to be followed.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Jason cursed as he pushed his motorcycle to go even faster. He glanced at every rooftop he passed, hoping to catch a glimpse of Robin’s bright colours.

“Why would he do that?!” Nightwing asked again, sounding panicked.

Because of me, Jason thought. This is all my fault. Tim’s in trouble and it’s all my fault. Fuck. He didn’t care about the Joker anymore. He just wanted Tim to be okay. He just needed his little brother to be safe.

“I can crack the encryptions,” Oracle continued, “But it’ll take me some time. It looks like he can still activate them if he’s in trouble but if he’s unconscious then…” 

Jason sped through the warehouse district, using the infrared built into his helmet to look for activity. 

“He activated his distress beacon!” Oracle announced. “I’ve sent you his location.”

“ETA ten minutes,” Batman reported for both him and Nightwing.

“I’m close,” Jason breathed, glad heading towards the warehouse district had been the right call. He turned sharply and hurried his bike to Tim’s location. He tried not to think about what situation would make Tim activate his distress beacon when he’d been so determined to stop everyone tracking him. Tim had better be okay when he got there or heads were going to roll.

Chapter Text

Jason didn’t slow down as he approached the correct warehouse. Instead he smashed right through the wooden doors, pulling out his gun as he went. Goons dove out of his way as Jason’s eyes caught on the Joker standing over his downed little brother. No thought went into Jason aiming and pulling the trigger. The shooting was an instinct more than anything else. The only thing running through his mind was the roar of ‘Protect Tim!’ that even the Green seemed to support. He fired two shots at the Joker’s chest and one between his eyes before the monster had even reacted to Red Hood’s presence. Joker hadn’t so much as managed a laugh before he’d been dead.

“Robin?!” Jason demanded. He abandoned his motorbike and ignored the Joker’s body in favour of checking on his little brother.

“I’m okay,” Tim wheezed. “I-I…I’m…”

“I’ve got Robin,” Red Hood reported to the comms, then switched it off so he could focus on Tim.

Tim pulled himself into Jason with his good arm and Jason hugged him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Tim sobbed. “I just wanted— I just wanted—”

“I know,” he murmured, shushing him gently. “It’s alright. I understand what you were trying to do. I appreciate the thought but… Fuck, Timtam, you brilliant moron. Don’t try something like that again.”

Batman and Nightwing burst into the warehouse shortly afterwards. They found Red Hood making a sling for Robin’s arm, right next to the Joker’s bullet ridden body. Batman’s hand clamped down on Nightwing’s shoulder, using his oldest son for support as they took in the scene from the warehouse entrance. “You killed the Joker,” was what Batman found himself saying. The Joker was dead. Too many emotions poured through Batman. He couldn’t keep track of them. But he recognised the relief that flooded in at the sight of Robin safe and the Joker dead. Perhaps he’d sounded too accusatory because Red Hood flinched at his words.

Jason tore his eyes from Robin to look at the Joker’s body. The Joker was dead. He’d killed the Joker. He hadn’t even registered what he’d done. He’d just wanted Tim to be safe. He hadn’t even realised he… For years the Joker’s death was all that he’d wanted and everything that he couldn’t do. But he’d done it. He hadn’t even been thinking about the Joker and now the Joker was dead. “I just,” he breathed. “Tim was in trouble and I just… reacted.”

“No names in the—” Batman started automatically before he seemed to realise who he was talking to. “He told you his identity?”

“Oh, fuck off, Bruce. He didn’t tell me shit. I’ve known the whole time.”

“How?” Batman demanded, finding it easier to latch onto this rather than the knowledge that the Joker could have killed his Robin again and that Red Hood had killed the Joker and that the Joker was dead now.

“B, this isn’t the time,” Nightwing said, trying to gently pry Batman’s hand off his shoulder. 

“I—but—” Batman said, clamping down on Nightwing even harder. He couldn’t loose the support right now. He would buckle without it. For the past few weeks he’d suspected that… Some of the things Red Hood had said were… He’d checked the coffin and it was empty but… No, that was impossible. Red Hood wasn’t… He couldn’t really be… His son was dead. “Take off your helmet,” he demanded.

“B,” Nightwing hissed. “What is wrong with you?”

Red Hood let out a mechanised huff. He thought about telling Batman to fuck off and getting out of there but… He looked down at Tim, who was still wrapped in his arms. The Joker was dead because of Tim. Sure, it hadn’t been in the way Tim probably expected when he set out on this venture, but it was true all the same. He hadn’t been able to kill the Joker for himself, but he’d killed him for Tim. Suddenly, sticking with his brother was more important than being angry at his father.

Red Hood reached up and unclipped his helmet, then lifted it carefully off his head and set it down beside him. “Hey, dad,” he said as he looked back up at the big bat. “So, I’m err… Not dead anymore.”

Batman just stared at him, giving nothing away through his mask. To his left, Nightwing fell to his knees and Batman was forced to stop using him as a crutch. The big bat teetered without Nightwing there, but everyone else was too focused on Nightwing to notice. “Jason?” Nightwing gasped, not even trying to get back up.

“Yeah, Dickie. It’s me.” He mustered up some fake enthusiasm and jazz-hands, “Surprise.”

“If you’re really Jason, t-tell me what happened to the Egyptian vase on the third floor,” Dick said, his voice cracking.

“Dickhead, we swore we’d take that to the grave!”

“Yeah, and I took it to yours. Tell me what happened to it.”

“I dared you to do handsprings down the entire hallway,” Jason admitted. “Not because I thought you couldn’t do it, but because I wanted to watch my older brother do cool flips. The rug slipped underneath you halfway down and you tumbled into the vase. We spent two hours trying to glue it back together, then when it still looked like shit, we buried the pieces in the garden and hoped no one would notice. Alfred definitely noticed, because he bought a new vase to replace it, but he never ratted us out because Alfie’s cool like that.”

“Little Wing,” Dick sobbed. “It’s you. It’s really you. This whole time. You’re alive. Little Wing, you’re alive.”

“I noticed, Dickwing,” Jason said gruffly, trying to keep his own tears at bay.

“We’ll continue this in the cave,” Batman said, still scarily blank-faced. “We need to run tests to make sure.”

Nightwing turned back to Batman, his face stormy. “You knew, didn’t you?!” he accused. “You’re not acting surprised. You knew!”

“I suspected it was a possibility,” Batman corrected. “We’ll talk about this back at the cave.”

“Fuck you!” Nightwing yelled, scrambling to his feet so he could get in Batman’s face. “You knew Red Hood might be Jason and you didn’t say anything. That’s my little brother!”

Jason sighed and threw his head back in exasperation. He’d heard their relationship was better now but it looked like Bruce and Dick still liked to scream at each other. He froze as his eyes locked on something tied to the support beams of the roof. He’d barely registered the red flash of a seven before he was jumping to his feet with Tim and yelling, “Bomb!”

Knowing he had basically no time, he used all his strength to throw Tim towards Batman and Nightwing. Good thing the kid was such a twig. He barely saw the results of his throw before the warehouse came down on him. He felt the (very) familiar embrace of death and could do nothing but let it take him.

Much like Jason, Batman and Nightwing could scarcely react to what was occurring. Batman was able to catch Robin when he was thrown their way, and instinct had Batman crouching over both Robin and Nightwing as the bomb exploded. He’d used his cape to cover them, which offered some protection from the fire and the shockwave. Since they were right by the door of the warehouse, the debris that landed on top of them was minimal and easy to shift aside after everything had settled.

As the three vigilantes emerged from the wreckage, it was easy to see that Red Hood had not been as lucky as them. Piles of rubble littered the area that had once been the inside of the warehouse. Enough rubble that no trace of Red Hood could be seen. Jason had also been a lot closer to the bomb than they’d been and he hadn’t been wearing his helmet. The odds that he had survived were low to miniscule.

The poor odds did not stop Batman and Nightwing from rushing towards the rubble and trying to shift it. “Jason!” Nightwing yelled as he dug through it frantically. “Jason! Are you alright?” Batman said nothing as he dug through the debris, already adjusting his expectations to anticipate a dead body. Robin stood on the sidelines, numb with shock as he watched the men dig for Jason. All he could think was that this was all his fault.

“Here!” Nightwing called Batman over as he uncovered Jason’s left hand. 

They made quick work of the rest of the rubble surrounding Jason and were able to drag him out of the wreckage. Moments later they confirmed that he wasn’t breathing and had no pulse. They tried CPR, probably for far longer than was reasonable, but eventually they had to admit to themselves that Jason was dead. Again.

They took Jason’s body back to the cave. Batman, with Oracles help, tested the body’s DNA and used every method of biometric identification available to them. Everything matched Jason Todd. Yes, the eyes were a bit greener, but the trace amounts of Lazarus chemicals in his blood stream explained that well enough. Jason really had been alive. They had gotten Jason back. Only for him to be dead again. Bruce pulled his cowl back and put his head in his hands, not able to stare at the results any longer. This was just… cruel.

While Bruce and Barbra had been running the tests, Dick had been sobbing in the corner, Alfred had been staring blankly off into space, and Tim had been hovering over where Jason’s body was laid out on a table. Tim wasn’t sure if he should say anything about Jason possibly being able to resurrect himself. They’d never actually discussed what had happened in Titans Tower. Tim had been too horrified that he had killed Jason to bring it up. He thought Jason had revived himself that day, but he’d stupidly never gotten Jason to clarify that. 

Maybe Jason had been pranking him and Tim had never killed Jason in the first place. Knowing Jason’s twisted sense of humour as he did now, it was a realistic possibility. But then how had Jason managed to fake a knife in the neck or known Tim would react that way? Tim knew the knife had been real. He’d felt it cut through Jason’s neck. He’d seen Jason bleed out. Surely Jason couldn’t have faked all that.

But then, if Jason really had come back to life that day, was reviving himself just something Jason could do? He’d been so casual about Tim killing him, so maybe he resurrected often. But in Titans Tower it had taken Jason minutes to come back to life. It had been hours since they’d pulled Jason’s body out of the rubble. Was the time-to-revive proportional to how damaged his body was? Or could Jason only revive himself in specific circumstances? Were there rules to it? Did he need to do something to prepare for coming back to life? Was he like a cat with a limited number of lives?

Tim really wished he’d interrogated Jason about all this when he’d had the chance. With no idea how, or even if, Jason could recover from death again, it seemed too risky to mention it to the others. If Jason couldn’t come back to life then he’d get their hopes up for nothing. But if he didn’t tell them, then Jason could revive after being buried. Or worse, they could cremate him and ruin any chance Jason had of revival. Unless burning was good because phoenix rules applied? Tim just didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. He hated not knowing.

Bruce stood up and pushed his chair in. He walked over to the wheeled table that Jason’s body was laying on and started pulling it away. “What are you doing?” Tim asked him, drawing everyone else’s attention.

“I’m taking the body to the morgue,” Bruce responded.

Suddenly Nightwing was right beside Bruce, screaming at him. “Can’t you act like a person for once?! That’s your son!”

Nightwing had been too caught up in his grief and anger to predict Bruce’s response. But he certainly hadn’t expected him to abruptly burst into tears. Dick deflated at the sight, unable to hold onto his anger. 

“I know,” Bruce moaned through his tears. “I know he’s my son. Of course I know that. This whole time he was right here and I… Even when I suspected I couldn’t let myself hope. But now he’s gone again and I didn’t even get to hug him. I didn’t even get to hug him and tell him I love him. I’ve still never been able to tell him how much I love him. I’ve always regretted that and I had the opportunity and still I didn’t. I should have done that as soon as he took his helmet off. Or as soon as I thought he might be Jason. I should have sought him out. I should have found him and hugged him and protected him. But I didn’t protect him. I failed him again and now he’s dead again. He was still so young. So so young. His whole life was ahead of him. He could have gone to college like he’d always wanted or—or—or—” 

Bruce was still speaking through his sobs but he had become far too incoherent to comprehend. He stood there, bawling and babbling, while his family watched. No one knew what to do. No one except Jason, who had revived while Dick was yelling and sat himself up while everyone was too distracted to notice.

“Damn, B. You do care.” Jason had been going for light and casual, but his words came out choked by emotion.

Tim, the only person in the room not frozen in shock and half-convinced they were hallucinating, flung himself at Jason. “Jay! You’re okay!”

“Of course I’m okay, Timthaniel,” Jason scoffed as he caught Tim in his arms. “We’ve already established that death by exploding warehouse doesn’t keep me down.”

“What?” Bruce wheezed.

“Yeah I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but death isn’t much of a thing for me anymore. I’ve gotten very good at bouncing back. No sweat. Not sure how or why but it is what it is.” Jason shrugged, enjoying the dumbstruck look on Bruce’s face a truly inappropriate amount.

“How many times have you died?!” Dick shrieked.

“Haven’t been counting,” Jason said. “Probably somewhere between like twelve and eighty-four times.”

Bruce let out a pained noise.

“That’s quite a large range,” Tim pointed out.

“Well, yeah. I told you I haven’t been counting.”

“Oh Lord,” Alfred said as he found a chair to sink into.

Dick finally seemed to process the implications of the situation, and promptly followed Tim’s example. Jason had a little more trouble catching his sobbing older brother in his arms, especially while still juggling Tim, but he managed well enough. He had a feeling he was going to be stuck in this three way embrace for a while.

“It’s good to have you back,” Barbra spoke through the cave speakers, sounding both relieved and absolutely done. 

“Thanks, Barbie.”

“Why?” Bruce said, finally finding his voice again. “Why didn’t you come home?”

“I was going through some shit. Being tortured, murdered, and chucked in a Lazarus Pit will do that to you.”

“Talia?” Bruce asked grimly.

“Yep,” Jason said. “I was pretty brain dead after I dug my way out of my grave.”

Bruce flinched and Dick let out a particularly loud sob.

Jason continued on without acknowledging their reactions. If he didn’t pretend everything was fine and keep talking, then he was going to start crying too. “I spent some time in a coma, then wandered around Gotham for a bit before Talia’s people found me. I don’t remember much before the pit so that’s just what Talia told me. After my dip in the al Ghul Mountain Dew, I found out the Joker was still alive and there was a new Robin… And well, I wasn’t exactly pleased. So I stayed to train with the League for a bit, then came back here to get the Joker put in the ground.”

Bruce decided he didn’t want to think about the Red Hood and the League and the Joker and all of that right now. So instead he opened his arms and gave his son a hopeful smile. “Can I have a hug?”

That’s when Jason couldn’t be casual any longer. His whole body trembled with emotion as his tears slipped free. His brothers let Jason extract himself from them and get to his feet. Then Jason let himself collapse into his father’s arms. 

“Jaylad,” Bruce gasped into his hair. “I missed you so much. I love you, son.”

“I love you too, dad.”

Dick couldn’t tolerate being left out of the hug for more than a moment before he glommed onto them both. “I love you, Little Wing.”

“I love you too, Dickface.”

Alfred watched on with a fond smile, content to wait his turn. Barbra resolved to make Jason visit her later. Tim eased himself off the bed and edged away from them. Jason was back now. Tim knew they didn’t need him anymore. Maybe they’d still let him be Robin. Maybe they’d still let him come for dinner at the Manor sometimes. Maybe Dick would still take him out for ice cream. Maybe Jason would still watch movies with him. Or maybe not. He’d miss them. But he’d always known that he was a stand-in. He’d never forgotten that.

“Timbelina,” Jason called when he glanced over and saw the look on Tim’s face, “You get your scrawny ass into this hug right now or I will remove every coffee bean from the premises.”

“You—I’m not—” he stuttered.

“No excuses,” Jason cut him off. “You are my little brother and you are getting into this hug right now.”

While Jason had been mentally referring to Tim as his little brother since the incident at Titans Tower, this was the first time he’d said it aloud. It was the first time Tim had heard Jason claim him as such. The first time he understood what he really meant to Jason. Tim felt his eyes mist.

“Yeah, babybird,” Dick agreed. “Get in here.”

Bruce, using every bit of his ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ title to read the room for once, smiled at Tim. “Come here, Son.”

Tim approached the hug and was quickly pulled into the middle of it.

“I love you, Jay,” Tim said, since he was great at pattern recognition and the order seemed to be ‘hug Jason’ then ‘tell him you love him’. He also said it because it was true.

“I love you too, Timadora.” 

“How’d you guys get so close anyway?” Dick mumbled to Tim and Jason, only slightly salty that Jason seemed to be the favourite older brother somehow.

Jason cackled and Tim involuntarily let out a squeak of fear. “The little shit totally killed me,” Jason informed them with absolute delight. “I went to Titans Tower to beat him up and he one-shotted me right off the bat.”

“What?” Dick asked.

“It was an accident!” Tim screeched.

“Sure it was, Timbert,” Jason teased. “Anyway, I couldn’t deny he was my little brother after a move like that.”

Later, Bruce decided. I’ll process that later.

Chapter Text

Alfred Pennyworth watched his charges hugging and crying with a soft smile. Then he slipped away to make up a room for Master Jason. His old one was more of a shrine than a bedroom. It wouldn’t be suitable until Jason had a chance to make it his own again. Alfred’s heart ached with the knowledge that his grandson would get that chance. It was a good ache. The ache of something so good that it was painful.

Master Jason was alive. He was alive and he was home. It was more than he would have ever hoped for. Alfred tried to adjust to the idea as he made Jason’s temporary bed. How long would it take before he stopped thinking this was a dream? He’d had this very dream before after all. Of course, it hadn’t been exactly the same. Jason hadn’t had green eyes or a white streak. He hadn’t been as tall or large. But the sentiments had been the same. Master Jason home. Master Jason as he could have been if he’d had the chance to grow up.

Alfred didn’t realise he’d finished making the bed until he jumped at the sound of someone entering the room. How long had he been staring at this made bed? He turned and found Master Jason there. Master Jason, who was all grown up and so big now. Master Jason who had been through hell and back to return to them. Master Jason whose eyes were greener, but held the same broad spectrum of emotion. The same protective spirit. The same glint of humour. The same deep familial love.

“How are you doing with all this, Alfie?” His grandson asked him. He was running a hand through his hair with the same sheepish expression he’d had at age thirteen when he’d accidentally put a foot through one of the banisters and tried to repair it himself.

“I—” Alfred started, wanting to say he was well but not being able to get the words out. People rarely asked him how he was. He knew that all his charges cared about him a great deal, but sometimes they took his steady presence for granted. It wasn’t something he minded. But of course, it was always Master Jason who looked beyond that. It was always Master Jason who would cook with him and try to assist him no matter how many times he protested. It was always Master Jason who wanted to know how he was doing. “I missed you very much, Master Jason.”

They stepped into each other’s arms and Alfred finally got the hug he’d been patiently waiting for.

“I missed you too. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Right now, I am doing wonderfully.”

It had been a long time since Jason Todd had snuck out of Wayne Manor. Four years, give or take. Apparently sneaking out of Wayne Manor was like riding a bike because he was still awesome at it. The security hadn’t changed and he still knew how to avoid all the cameras. He still knew how to trick the sensors into thinking he was a squirrel. He still knew which tree was best to help him over the wall. Bruce should be grateful that Jason had never decided to break into the Manor and fuck shit up while he’d been in rage mode. The only thing that had held him back was the thought of Alfred having to clean up whatever mess he made. No matter how angry Jason was at Bruce, even the Pit had never been able to muster up a negative feeling for Alfred.

Jason almost felt bad for leaving the Manor like this, but it had been two days since he’d come home and those clingy bastards wouldn’t let him out of their sights. Yeah, he loved them and everything, but he had responsibilities and a whole ass crime empire to check up on. Plus he had a house call to make. He’d go back to the Manor, of course. He just needed some free time. He wouldn’t have had to resort to such measures if Bruce and Dick would just chill out a little. It’s not like he was going to die on them or something if he had a moment alone. Or well, he might. But he’d probably come back so that was fine.

Jason spent the next hour or so as Red Hood, checking up on all his crew, reminding the right people that he was still around to shoot them, and making sure the shelters he funded were still sheltering. He made sure to be seen by every camera he passed, even throwing in a cheeky wave now and then so Oracle would get the hint. Sure enough, Barbra hacked into his comms as he was finishing up his Red Hood duties.

“Hood,” Oracle greeted. “I saw you waving. Do you need something from me?”

“I do,” he said. “I need directions to my favourite batgirl. Where are you based nowadays? I want to make a house call. I’ll even grab you some takeout on the way in.”

Oracle chucked in that robotic voice of hers. “And here I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”

“Never,” he said strongly. 

Aside from Bruce and Alfred, Barbra was probably the person who knew him best. She’d spent hours tutoring him and, despite a rough start, they’d grown on each other. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been in the hospital, recovering from a bullet to the spine. She hadn’t wanted to see anyone back then. She’d asked him to leave. But baby Jason was a little shit and sat himself by her bedside anyway. He’d laid his Wonder Woman blanket over her and read the Count of Monte Cristo aloud until his voice was going. They’d gotten one quarter of the way through before he’d been asked to go by the doctors. He’d promised to come back and continue reading it to her. She’d almost smiled at him as he’d left. He’d never gotten the chance to come back. Barbara was another one of the few people the Pit had never been able to twist him against.

Oracle gave him directions to pick up some Chinese food then told him to go to the clock tower. She let him in remotely and he found his way up to her base of operations. There she was waiting for him. That same Wonder Woman blanket he’d given her was draped over her lap. Jason took a moment to fully process her. She seemed whole again, wheelchair or not. “You look great, Barbie,” he said honestly. “And I like the new digs.”

Her eyes teared up as she rolled over to him. “Get down here,” she demanded, holding her arms out.

Jason bent so he could give her a proper hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner,” he mumbled. “I was…Well I was…”

“I know, Jason,” she said as she stroked his hair. “Don’t be sorry. I get it. I… Thanks for… What you did. I didn’t need it like you, but I… It still helps.”

Neither had to clarify what that meant. Barbra was thanking him for killing the Joker. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m just glad you’re here.”

There had been days in the last few years when Jason would have disagreed with her. But now… “So am I.” They stayed in their hug for a minute more. Then Jason finally pulled back and held up his bag of takeout. “I think I’ve done enough emotions for this week. Wanna eat our feelings?”

She laughed and Jason basked in the sound. “You bet,” she said, gladly taking the box he offered her. 

They caught each other up on the missing years as they ate. Then when they were done, Jason pulled a book out of his back pocket. “I know I’m a bit late but…” He held up his battered copy of the Count of Monte Cristo.

Barbra grinned at him. “Well we didn’t set a deadline or anything. So I can hardly say you’re late.”

Jason opened the book right to the page he’d left off at all those years ago. He got three sentences in before Barbra was pulled back to her computer by an emergency alert.

“What do you need?” Oracle asked as she picked up the call from the bat cave.

“Oracle, Jason is gone,” Batman said, voice tight. “Please help me find him. I—I can’t lose him again.”

Barbra turned back to Jason. “You left without telling them,” she said, giving him a very judgemental look.

“Look, Barbie, I tolerated the coddling as best I could for over two days but a man’s gotta get some fresh air eventually.”

“Jason,” Bruce breathed over the call.

“Yeah, B. I was just visiting Barbra. Calm your tits.” Then because Bruce’s clear relief was making him feel like a bit of an asshole, “I’m not running out on you again. I promise. But I can’t spend all my time in the Manor either. I have a life, you know.”

“R-right,” Bruce said. “I… Sorry if we were smothering you. Enjoy your time with Barbra.”

‘If?’ Jason wanted to tease, but he thought better of it. He didn’t exactly hate their smothering, he just had a limit to what he could handle. Plus B had apologised to him, which must have caused him physical pain. “Thanks, dad. I’ll see you at home.”

“I—Yeah. Love you.” He hung up. 

“His emotionally constipated ass really is trying,” Jason thought aloud with a fond smile.

“Wonders never cease,” Barbra agreed.

“Where were we?” Jason asked rhetorically as he picked the book back up.

“Incoming,” Nightwing declared cheerfully as he flipped into the fight.

“You weren’t invited,” Red Hood grumbled as he continued to fend off Black Mask’s men. He’d never admit it but he was grateful for his brother’s timely arrival. Fending off ten guys with guns was a lot, even for him. Especially since he’d made the switch to rubber bullets. Fuck, did he miss using real bullets. The things we do for family.

“Come on, Hood,” Nightwing wined as he laid into the men with his zappy sticks. “Is that any way to treat your backup?”

“Uninvited backup,” he returned as he kicked a guy in the head. He had a reputation to maintain after all.

“Aw, you love me really.”

He did but that wasn’t the point. “You’re a dick.”

“Wow, I’ve never heard that one before,” Nightwing replied with exaggerated amazement.

“I will shoot you in the—”

Jason didn’t even think when he saw the gun aimed at Nightwing’s unprotected head. He stepped in front of his brother, knowing his helmet would protect him from a head shot. Unfortunately he was taller than Dick now, so the bullet went through his neck instead. This one would be fatal. C’est la vie, he thought casually. 

Jason died to the sound of Nightwing’s keen of rage.

Then Jason came back, minutes later, to Nightwing sobbing all over him. 

“Ge’off,” he mumbled, pushing at the clinging vigilante.

“Little Wing, you died again!” Nightwing cried, refusing to let go.

Jason sighed, taking in the brutalised bodies surrounding them. Nightwing really went to town on those goons. “Why are you freaking out?” Hood asked, trying to push his brother off him again. The damn octopus just clung tighter. “You know I’m immortal, you twit.”

“We don’t know how it works,” Nightwing insisted. “You don’t even know how it works! What if this time…? What if this time you didn’t…?”

“I’m fine, Dickwing.” He tried to pat his brother’s back in a consoling matter but it didn’t seem to be helping.

Then his brother pulled back, suddenly furious. “Don’t do that again!”

“Look, Dickhead,” he sighed, “If the choice is me dying or any of you guys dying then of course I’m going to pick me. At least I have a shot at recovery.” Hehe, shot. You know, ‘cause he was shot.

“Noooo,” Dick moaned, shaking him by the shoulders.

For fucks sake. Jason turned on his comm. “Will one of you bats come pick up your oversized bird? He’s having a moment and I have shit to do.”

Dick let out an offended noise and switched on his own comm. “Hood died again!”

There was an immediate clamour of voices over the comms.

“You goddamn snitch.”

Damian al Ghul Wayne, heir to the demon head and son of the bat, slipped into Wayne Manor with all the skill of a highly trained assassin. After akhi had settled back in with their father, his mother had agreed to let him go to Gotham to finish his training with akhi and father. Akhi had told him many things about their family and the Manor while they had been together. Damian knew exactly how to sneak in and navigate the building.

At first, Damian had thought about knocking on the door. He’d abandoned that idea quickly. Damian was an assassin and assassins didn’t knock on the door. The young heir navigated his way to the kitchen, where he found his father, brothers and Pennyworth. Akhi had told him that Pennyworth was the most important member of the household. Damian observed as the butler placed breakfast dishes on the table. Father was sitting at the head of the table, reading a newspaper. Another man, who he knew was Grayson, the eldest of his brothers, sat on father’s right. He was scrolling through loud and annoying videos on his phone. A teenager he recognised as the interloper, Tim Drake, was sitting on Grayson’s other side. He looked pathetically unaware of his surroundings as he nursed a mug of coffee. 

His akhi had his back to everyone as he stood by the stove making pancakes. Damian crept a bit further into the room, darting between alcoves and making sure not to draw the attention of any of the occupants. He saw his akhi freeze for a moment. Then akhi huffed out a quiet laugh and went back to cooking without so much as a glance towards him. Damian grinned, recognising the permission for what it was. It had been a long time since he’d played such games with akhi.

Damian coiled his muscles, glancing once more around the room to make sure no one else had noticed his presence. Then he leapt forward with his favourite akhi-slaying knife, landed on akhi’s back, and stabbed akhi through the neck. He pulled his knife free as akhi fell and smoothly found the floor to observe akhi’s near-instant death. Once akhi was gone, he looked up at the other people in the room. They were all staring at him with looks of shock and horror. He thought the famed batman and his brood would be harder to startle. How disappointing. He would just have to teach them the awareness he had taught his akhi.

“Hello, father and brothers,” he said with a nod of greeting. “I have come to join you in Gotham.”

They continued to stare at him with wide eyes. Damian noted that they were also slow to adjust to new situations. This was a most unsuitable trait for a group of warriors. He supposed he would have to take it upon himself to protect his family if they were going to be this much of a liability. His father finally opened his mouth but all the came out was a strangled wheeze. Damian crossed his arms, unimpressed. 

Akhi sat up, stretching his arms as if he was rising from a restful slumber, then reached out to ruffle Damian’s hair. Damian tried not to lean too far into his brother’s large hand. He wasn’t a child, after all.

“Demon brat,” akhi said with a grin. “It’s good to see you.”

“Of course it is, akhi,” Damian agreed. He knew akhi would miss him terribly, which was why he had been very insistent with Mother about joining father in Gotham.

If possible, the eyes of the other people in the room got wider.

“This explains so much,” the interloper said.

“What?” father rasped.

“This is why Jason liked me better after I stabbed him,” the interloper clarified. 

By the looks on father and Grayson’s faces, this clarification did not help.

“This is Damian,” akhi said as he got back to his feet. “We met in the League. He’s your and Talia’s kid. Don’t let the stabbing throw you off. That’s just a thing we do together.”

Akhi patted him on the back and Damian decided to tolerate the touch. He could let his akhi have physical contact if he wanted it. They had been separated for a long time.

“The thing you do together is letting him stab you?” Grayson asked, wearily.

“We all have our own sibling things,” akhi shrugged. Then he looked down at Damian. “Don’t stab any of the others though. They won’t walk it off like I do.”

“Is that so bad?” Damian asked, eying the interloper.

“Yes,” akhi said firmly. “Dad’s got this whole thing about killing. I’m sure Tals told you.”

“She did,” Damian admitted. He straightened up and nodded firmly. “I shall refrain from fatal attacks.”

“Damian,” father croaked.

“Yes, father,” Damian replied. He looked up at the batman assessingly. “I imagined you taller.”

“I…” father said. “I…” Akhi shot father a stern look. “Okay. Umm. Welcome to the Manor, son. I’m glad you’re here.”

Akhi flashed father a thumbs up that Damian suspected he wasn’t supposed to see.

Grayson approached them carefully. “Hi, Damian. It’s nice to meet you. I’m your brother, Dick.”

“Yes, akhi informed me of you,” Damian said. “You are the ‘overeager octopus’, correct?”

The interloper choked on a laugh as Grayson glared at akhi. 

“I spoke only the truth,” Akhi defended.

“What did he say about me?” the interloper asked curiously.

Damian turned to address him. “In our last phone call, he informed me that you had grown on him like a fungus. He also said you were intelligent, but I have yet to see any evidence of this claim.”

“Be nice, demon spawn,” akhi scolded him lightly.

Damian pouted, then turned to Pennyworth, who gave him a small smile. “I was told you are the one in charge. Please place my lodgings next to akhi’s. He requires constant supervision lest he be swayed by any other interlopers.”

“Now, now, there’s plenty of me to go around,” akhi said. “You’ll grow to love all the interlopers, I promise.”

“Do not promise such asinine things.”

They were fighting aliens or something. Honestly, Red Hood hadn’t been paying that much attention when Batman had briefed them all. This was primarily a Justice League mission after all. The birds had just been called in as back up. Somehow Red Hood had ended up fighting through an army of aliens with Superman and Wonder Woman at his back. Tim, now Red Robin, and Damian, now Robin, were infiltrating the alien mothership with Batman, and Jason could hear them bickering over the bat comms channel. As Jason had guaranteed, they had grown to love each other, but their relationship was still outwardly antagonistic.

“Careful, you fool,” Robin said. “If I do not bring you back alive then akhi will be upset.”

“I noticed the trap, Robin,” Red sighed. “It was just quicker to trip it than to disarm it.”

“Clear the comms,” Batman growled and the boys fell silent. “Hood, how are things on the ground?”

“Aunty Di and Uncle Supes are tearing it up as usual,” he reported as he sniped three aliens with his tranq gun.

Both superheroes faltered. “What did you just call us?” Superman asked as he rammed through the aliens.

“What I’ve always called you?” Red Hood said, genuinely confused by their stiff looks. He’d called them Aunty Di and Uncle Supes since he was thirteen and they’d never had a problem with it before. Unless… “You do know who I am, right? Batman told you?”

“We know you are an associate of Batman, yes,” Wonder Woman replied neutrally.

“Fucking shit,” he laughed as he threw an alien over his shoulder, “He really didn’t tell you.” He’d thought the Justice League’s interactions with the Red Hood had been a little less familiar than before, but he’d assumed they were trying to keep things professional now that he was an adult. He spoke into his comms incredulously, “B, you didn’t fucking tell them about me?”

“Er, I, I thought you did?” Batman stuttered back.

“They’re your team!”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Batman snapped. “Now is not the time.”

Red Hood shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“What have we not been told?” Wonder Woman asked as she used her lasso to slam an alien into the ground.

“I was Robin,” Hood explained. “The second one. I came back from the dead. A lot actually. I’m kind of immortal now.”

Superman stopped in his tracks. Several aliens tried to stab him in his state of distraction, but their weapons shattered harmlessly against the frozen superhero. Wonder Woman didn’t falter in her fighting despite her surprise. She was just that cool. Superman turned stiffly towards Red Hood, still paying no mind to the attacks bouncing off his indestructible body.

“Jason?” Superman gasped.

“In all my undead glory,” Red Hood confirmed.

Superman continued to gape in the middle of the battlefield, letting the aliens take themselves out with their own attempts to off him.

“Little One,” Wonder Woman said, using the address she’d always used when he was Robin. “I am so happy you have returned to us. I grieved you immensely.” She was still fighting as competently as she always did, but her voice was thick with emotion. Hood may have even seen her brush a tear off her face.

“Sorry, I really thought B had told you about me.”

That’s when Superman picked him up in a hug. “Jason!”

“Names,” Batman snapped, apparently still listening over comms. Everyone ignored him.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, Supes,” Red Hood said hurriedly as more aliens charged at them. “But maybe we should hug it out later.”

“I—yes,” Superman said and released him. The kryptonian finally returned to the fight. “Sorry.”

“Please tell us everything we have missed,” Wonder Woman requested warmly. “I trust you have many new and exciting stories.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose I have a few of those. Want me to tell you about the magic demon-slaying swords I can summon with the power of my soul?”

“The what?” Batman demanded.