Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Red Hood had been doused with something, something bad. No one was sure what exactly but if even Bill could tell then it had to be bad. How… he had no idea. No one had any idea. Red Hood was heavily armored and wore a full faced helmet that was entirely capable of filtering out even fear toxin or joker venom, supposedly. At least according to his cryptic comments when he got into the whole planning thing in the big boss office space and ended up looking more like the prima donna in a dressing room. Certainly he had never flinched at anything Black Mask sent his way. Certainly he’d never flinched at the theatrics he put on, having some of his boys roll smoke grenades in pretty much solely for the purpose of Hood stepping menacingly out of them.

Something had gotten around those protections though, and now the bossman was curled up in his apartment and had refused any help. It didn’t seem to be fear toxin at least. He was aware , snarling and threatening to shoot literally everyone who so much as crossed over the doorway.

Johnny was proof that it wasn’t an idle threat though he had stubbornly shown up the next day calling his bundled up leg a flesh wound and had taken up a position in the downstairs lobby with a few other people playing card games with his leg elevated.

No one would throw them out. Actually, no one even realized anything was wrong. The apartment complex was Red Hood’s afterall. It wasn’t official headquarters or anything but people in the gang knew.

It’d started with Bill actually. Well… no… not with Bill directly, with his niece. Red Hood had started his whole takeover with that as one of the main gang rules. Don’t hurt kids and Bill’s niece was most definitely a cute kid. Blond with sparkling big green eyes. Sweet looking as could be and better at hustling than half the guys at the table.

Red Hood had said time and again that working for him meant no hurting kids. It meant helping out kids in fact. No one had quite believed just how seriously he meant that until Bill’s phone had gone off in the middle of a ‘planning session’ again and again while Red Hood stared at him.

His niece had gotten into some type of trouble with the landlord and his sister wanted big, hulking, intimidating Bill to show up and set some people straight.

Technically, his sister got what she wanted. Bill was present. He doesn’t think anyone actually noticed though. Pretty much all the thugs who had decided to pick on a little girl had been more focused on Red Hood blowing up their front lobby with a grenade launcher. He’d then basically handed his sister keys to an apartment in this building for a steal of a rent price, hired his own goons to be the security of it with impressive incentives to be live in brute force and no one had dared to look too deeply into the first floor backrooms basically turning into an after school hangout place as more and more goon related children moved in.

If there were several kids who weren’t actually related to one of the goons, or anyone, well… no one was going to question it. Similarly, no one questioned when the assorted members of the Red Hood gang hung out in the lobby even if they weren’t directly related or on shift or even lived in the apartment complex.

This wasn’t Red Hood’s headquarters officially, but it was the home of their gang and with Bossman down with some unknown, they had closed ranks and taken it upon themselves to set up double guards. They’d also been hovering as close as Red Hood would allow them which… wasn’t actually much.

He really had shot Johnny in the leg when the man was the first to dare pick the apartment lock and take a cautious step across the threshold. He didn’t take up their offer to kidnap a doctor. He refused company from a few of the girls who came both asked for by the gang and of their own accord when they heard whispers. He refused everything, curled up in his full armor with blankets tucked all around him and heat flooding out of his apartment.

He refused everything except for apparently fresh air.

Bill had been outside smoking. Another rule of Hood’s. No smoking inside the apartment complex, there were too many kids. At the clang of a fire escape, Bill instinctively tensed and ducked into cover, calculating how many ways out of the alley even as he glanced up.

Red Hood had collapsed out of his window onto the escape and was muttering curses low enough that Bill could really only hear the static of the helmet.

Well, Hood being a bit more lively than a bundle of blankets on the couch was a good sign. Immediately Bill was headed up the escape. “Hey Red.”

He was greeted with a groan. “Fucking peachy.”

“Anything I ca-”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

Bill nearly fell off the fire escape at the screech, stumbling back with his hands raised as a gun pointed at him. A wavering, shaking gun. Oh… oh was Bossman feeling worse ? “Uh… Red? It’s me. It’s Bill. Bill Heinz? Liz’s uncle? On your payroll.”

The safety flicked back on after a long tense moment while Red managed to get up onto one elbow. He was shaking. “Fucking hell.”

“Do you… I can get a doc for you.”

“Fuck off. I don’t need your god damned concern . It’s not like it’s real anyway you octopus bastard.” Bill stayed where he was as Red Hood managed to get his feet under him and shakily pushed upright. Maybe they should be reevaluating if this was some form of fear toxin… it’d been a few days but whatever had hit Hood had to be ridiculously strong to even just get past the helmet so…

“Bossman… I know you like to be all capable, and normally you are but uh… the way you’re swaying… Bossman it’d be really reassuring if you maybe went back inside?” Bill risked a quick look down into the alley and decided then and there that he’d go ahead and suggest to the other boys that they should move all the cardboard recycling under this specific fire escape. Maybe if they had some mattresses that needed to be replaced?

“Get the fuck off me!” And there was the gun again, nearly brushing Bill’s temple.

“Okay, okay, backing up.” He got maybe a step or two before the gun dropped to Red Hood’s side. Was that all that was needed because that’d be better than going up or down the escape.

“Fucking hell. Can’t even get a god damned moment of peace . Bullshit, stupid, terrible idea.” Red Hood had thankfully turned, holstering the gun. “Front door’s full of goons, back door’s full of kids, windows full of god damned birds . Not even useful piece of shit birds.” One leg threw over the windowsill as Red Hood kept up the tirade, Bill creeping closer just in case Hood fell back into the apartment and hit one of the guns or knives or who knew what else. “Look at me, look at me, fucking mocking me . Lookie here, I’m fucking golden boy Grayson, I give the best hugs in the world and am a clingy fucking dick but the one god damn time I might be okay with that, I might want that and nooooo .”

“Wait, Bossman… did you say Grayson?” Immediately Bill rolled through the list of gang members, searching for a face to put with that name. It sounded vaguely familiar but he was coming up blank. Not in the gang then? He tried to remember if there was a Grayson in the complex.

“Fuck off.” Red Hood was fully in the apartment now, stalking towards the couch.

“Bossman, please. We’re all worried about whatever it is you got hit with…”

Red Hood scoffed, working on his boots. “Fucking Ivy and her god damned pollen. Feels like absolute shit every single time.”

Oh… oh actually that made a lot of sense. Why’d he turn away the girls then unless… unless…

‘ Fucking golden boy’… ‘best hugs in the world’... ‘clingy fucking dick’... Was the Bossman gay !?

“Red… Red… Bossman… Ivy’s pollen is nasty stuff, especially if it got through all of the layers.” Bill hesitated as the thought struck him, hovering in the windowsill while Red Hood threw his boots at the far wall. He flopped back on the couch, turning his back to the world once again. There wasn’t any telltale sheen but was that part of the reason why he’d been so adamant no one come in or touch him? So they wouldn’t be exposed… “Boss, you need to let someone in to help with it.” How strong was Red Hood mentally that he’d been alone from days under Poison Ivy’s influence?

“Fuck right the fuck off.”

‘The one time I might be okay with that’ ...

“What about Grayson? Would you let Grayson in?”

“Go away. I want to at least try to sleep. Fucking prickly watching bullshit…”

Bill couldn’t say it wouldn’t hurt to try. It might hurt a lot but… if there was a chance…

He clamored off the fire escape and to the lobby. Everyone looked up when he slammed open the doors. “We need to find Grayson.”

It turned out there weren’t very many Graysons around. It wasn’t zero Graysons exactly but the gang narrowed it down to probably around boss’s age range or at least not like wildly outside of it and male. There were still a few options but ultimately… ultimately they all decided that knowing Red Hood it was probably the one in Bludhaven named Dick Grayson. It would be just like their boss to pick a cop when he was a crime lord. Apparently one of the few and far between straight lace cops at that. Boss had also made a joke about him being a dick and they all knew how much Boss liked wordplay.

Plus, he was stupid easy to kidnap despite being a cop.

All it took was Bill headed over with a few guys and Liz. His beautiful niece. He should really see about getting her into acting lessons or something because the way she wove through the crowd, the way she seemed to be frantically searching before big teary eyes landed on the cop who had caught her and was scanning the crowd, the way she clung to him almost but not quiet crying about being lost and trying to find her uncle… it was perfection . Hook, line, sinker.

They walked right past the alley with the officer carrying Liz on his hip while she pointed to the storefront she’s apparently lost her uncle by. Two of the gang members stepped out, grinning and calling attention to themselves while the cop spun. Immediately he had Liz down, behind him and ‘safe’.

Too bad he wasn’t safe from her. She stuck the needle in, even as he turned.

Bill huffed as he caught the man who had to be pure fucking muscle with how much he weighed. “Fuck…heavy bastard.”

“Hi uncle!”

“Hey sweetheart. That was beautiful.”

She grinned, the cop struggling a bit before his eyes finally rolled back and he was out for the count.

One of the other guys had a contact on the Bludhaven police who’d come pick up the squad car with the jacket in it here in a few and make sure that Dickie wasn’t reported missing during end of shift check-in that should be taking place in 30 minutes or so. He was also thankfully wearing an undershirt that they could strip him down to before emptying his pants pockets, tucking him into the back of the SUV in his own handcuffs and heading back to Gotham.

Three days. Three fucking days. Jason shived, wrapped up tight with the armor digging into him and everything feeling too close and too much and he just wanted it to end. He couldn’t get comfortable. His men were making sure of that, prowling outside the door just waiting. Waiting for him to be weak enough, slow enough, that they could take him out.

The kids he normally would tolerate just about anything from had kept up with screaming and laughing the entire time, reminding him of how close and how far he was from what he wanted. He grit his teeth as there was slamming of car doors outside and one of the girls he knew lived in the complex with her extended family all around her fairly shrieked joyously about something.

He couldn’t even manage to get to one of his other safehouses where he could actually take the armor off and ride this out in something actually comfortable because it was so much god damned effort to get to the window and every time he did fucking golden boy Dick Grayson was there, tutting at him and mocking him.

Well… if it was daylight it’d be Dick. if it was nighttime it’d be the big bat looming in the window and Jason didn’t even try. As his lack of any kind of meaningful sleep was racking up though the image had been starting to blur a bit. The last time Jason glanced over it’d been himself… his fifteen year old self soundlessly staring at him while blood dr-

Jason startled up with all the strength he could manage which pretty much got him half fumbling for a gun and barely managing to stay on the couch as the door was kicked open. “Don’t shoot! Bossman, don’t shoot!”

Was this it? Was this the moment where they flooded into the room, all guns and knives and ready for a coup and… was that a god damned body ? Were they bringing a corpse into his fucking house!?

“We got the guy you wanted, Red!” Four men, plus the body. All his own men that he recognized. The lead was one of his enforcers. Not the brightest man but damn if he wasn’t effective when you pointed him at a problem that could be solved with brute force. He was the one who’d thrown open the door and had his hands out semi shielding the rest. Two men were huffing as they carried the body via arms and legs. The last followed in and quickly took another limp arm.

“What the fuck ?” Was this a hallucination too? Had his mind cracked? Was the limp guy a fucking cop !?

He’d been stripped down to his pants which were definitely standard issue police, a dark tanktop and fucking bananna socks. His head was covered with a bag so immediate ID was out and he was entirely limp in a way that suggested he was completely unconscious. Probably a good thing by the sheer amount of muscle mass.

“You lucid, Bossman?”

Red Hood sure fucking hoped he wasn’t! The cold lacing through his veins and lethargy certainly suggested this wasn’t something as harmless as a nightmare though.

“Why the fuck is there an unconscious cop?” They’d put said unconscious cop down with one goon guarding him while the other two apparent heavy lifters picked up his coffee table and moved it insultingly far out of range. He’d been… okay actually maybe that was better. Maybe he’d leave it over there because certainly he’d nearly brained himself multiple times on it during this experience.

The lead was grinning from ear to ear as he whipped off the bag. “It’s the guy you asked for! Dick Grayson!”

“Oh fuck…” Oh no… oh no, absolutely not . He did not ask for Dick Grayson, fucking ward of Bruce Wayne, fucking golden boy, fucking Nightwing himself to be brought to him wrapped up with a bow. Beyond the slight stunned shock that they’d succeeded in kidnapping Dick Grayson, he could feel dread pooling as too many possibilities flashed through his mind, all coming back to that he was absolutely fucked.

Even worse, the wild ride apparently wasn’t over!

The goons were hauling his god damned brother up like a sack of potatoes while lead smirked and if he could trust his own aim currently he would shoot fucking all of them. “We know you don’t want us to touch you Bossman so… sorry if it’s a little rough.”

“W-no, no, no.” Oh fuck that . They were getting closer, hauling Dick up with grunts and was he actually out like a light or faking it and oh Jason was fucking dead .

“You need someone to warm the bed, Bossman, or it’s not gonna go away!” If he survived this with the ability to pull a trigger he was going to pistol whip that lead, shoot both his kneecaps and let him scream himself hoarse before shooting him in the god damned head.

“Hup!” They half tossed, half rolled Dick on top of him before Jason could scramble out of the way and immediately and far too efficiently wrapped the blankets around the two while Jason’s mind whited out because… because…

He’d been so, so god damned cold and aching and he hadn’t been able to think or react and now there was so much warmth it burned. He still couldn’t trust that Dick wasn’t just pretending but fuck the weight felt like heaven, like everything he’d been trying to replicate and couldn’t. Jason’s arms had wrapped around the shoulders that used to seem so untouchably broad as soft breaths puffed against his jacket.

He didn’t hear the men leave, didn’t hear the door shut or lock. All he heard was the roar of blood in his ears and Dick’s steady slow heartbeat as his arms wrapped tighter and tighter. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He was… his brother was there , putting blissful weight on him and sure maybe he wasn’t half strangling Jason in a hug but that didn’t matter because it was warm and wonderful and no, Red Hood was not crying.

“You better not be faking Dickface,” His arms wove tighter but there wasn’t even a twitch. “Because if you are and you aren’t fucking hugging me back .” The helmet hid the crack in his voice.

He shivered there, waiting for an indication, moderating his breathing. Maybe if Dick thought he was asleep he’d finally make his move, finally wrap his arms tight around Jason and… and…

Well Jason didn’t really care so long as the warmth and weight didn’t go away. Whatever would be fine he sighed, letting his breath ease out, his muscles relax as if he was drifting off. It would be fine for just a few.

There was heavily reinforced Kevlar weave under his cheek, Dick’s arms splayed around a large muscled form. That observation alone was enough for him to relax, or rather not tense up from where he was tucked between the couch and an absolute human wall who was breathing deep and even.

He might have been drugged and he truly did hate being drugged but Bruce was here. The situation was already handled and by him being in civilian clothes while Bruce was in the suit everything must have been nice and wrapped up and he wouldn’t even have to help with statements or clean-up. Instead he’d just get to soak in the overprotective cuddling which so long as he wasn’t being lectured during was great . Plus he wasn’t even majorly injured! There were no stinging chafing hands or wrists so he wasn’t sure he’d even been bound at any point. At most he had a couple bumps and bruises that may or may not be new.

Dick shifted, tucking himself a little more comfortably into place. He might have been flexible but having an armored shoulder driving his bicep into the cushions still wasn’t terribly relaxing. He also went ahead and threw his leg over the nicely offered thigh, feeling out where he might snag on the cape though apparently it was just elsewhere in general.

He was focused enough that it took him a moment to register what was wrong with what he did land on.

Cargo pants. Bruce never wore cargo pants. Now granted, these were apparently armored cargo pants which were indeed extra enough for Dick’s family members.

That one little thing brought into sharp clarity the whole host of other issues. Like why in the world they were on a couch. Dick didn’t recognize it off the top of his head but it certainly didn’t feel like any of the suede or leather couches from the manor or tower. This one was more the thick cording of an old style couch. Plus there was sound .

There was traffic outside, cars passing by, motorbikes and backfiring and somewhere someone was shouting. There were laughing shrieks of children from extremely close.

Dick shifted how he was cuddling into something a little bit more usable, ready to be turned into a hold or for him to slip away. Well… to try and slip away. He was pretty effectively tucked into the crease of the couch.

Then, regulating his breathing, Dick cracked open an eye. Red greeted him. Shining, gleaming red that swept through what portion of Dick’s vision wasn’t filled with the dark armor.

Breathe . Dick had been in much worse positions. He wasn’t restrained, which was downright weird but hey, he’d take it. He was in civilian clothes but one advantage of being a cop was that people expected a little bit of a fight. He wasn’t blindfolded, his… whatever this was choosing to keep the helmet instead so if it was a kidnapping of Bruce Wayne’s ward he had decent odds of it being about the payout. Really he had good odds overall. Worryingly good odds.

Dick drew in another breath and let it out. Time to find out what kind of trap those absolutely great odds were. Normally he would have assigned some possibility to stupidity but so far… if this was who he thought it was… stupidity was extremely unlikely. Very slowly, he extracted himself enough to get a good view of the red glint.

Red Hood had made a violent bloody splash in the crime world. Technically, he had started a gang war. In actuality… a war implied that the other side had a chance. Red Hood had waltzed in and within days had control of Crime Alley. Within a few weeks he had overrun Black Mask to the point that the man was getting desperate. Every step had been cold and calculating in its planning and gleeful, murderous raging violence in its execution. It had also been clean . So far none of the bats had solid intel on where Red Hood’s real base of operations was. The closest they’d come was a warehouse with all the trappings of a base of operations without any of the actual indications it was used .

Arms curled around him, the helmet giving a crackling distorted sound that wasn’t understandable. For a moment Dick tensed but once Red Hood was settled back, pressed against him from shoulder to toe, the man went still and soft again.

Okay. He knew his current state. He’d identified the main threat to him. Dick did a quick double check and verified that Red Hood was not restrained in any visible way. He wasn’t, and at a random guess anyone capable of kidnapping both Dick Grayson and a literal crime lord would have been smart enough to remove the assorted visible and hidden weapons Red Hood clearly had on him, along with at least some portion of the body armor.

Well, even if they weren’t, then Dick was happy to mitigate the risk to himself. A quick check of vitals showed that Red Hood had a slightly elevated heart rate and was running warm but no currently findable injuries and that he was most definitely asleep or a better actor than even Dick was.

Dick had never been capable of the slight shifts. He could lay there limply just fine but Red Hood moved faintly, flexing just enough that he seemed to be unconsciously encouraging the touch. It was something that proved exceedingly helpful as Dick carefully and slowly started stripping weapons. Each one he tucked between the couch cushions, reaching back at a bit of an odd angle to set the weapons on the ground past all the springs. Then he would pause, trailing his hand up and down Red Hood’s arm or side while whatever tension had built up dissipated.

He had gotten a pretty good assortment removed and effectively tucked away before a hand settled on top of his where Dick had been fiddling with a stubborn snap holding a mostly hidden knife in place. Slowly, Red Hood’s glove slid past while Dick hardly dared to breathe. The snap came undone, Red Hood closing Dick’s hand around the hilt.

The voice was low and flat, crackling slightly with the voice modulator that made the actual tone impossible to make out. It also only picked up half of the comment, the only clear words being “Jesus Christ…hoped...”

Well… he wasn’t stabbed yet so that was good. “Red Hood, fancy meeting you here.” Since he had been given the knife, he carefully extracted it and tucked it away with the rest while Red Hood lifted his head slightly. Dick couldn’t read a single expression off the mask with its flat planes and glowing white eyes.

After a long moment that let Dick ensure the knife was fully and utterly out of range, Hood groaned. “You better not just be dropping those.” Rather than sit up or pull away or become aggressive… Red Hood’s arm curled up, his hand splayed on Dick’s back. There he sighed, and leaned his head into Dick’s shoulder. “Fuck I was hoping they drugged you enough to not have this conversation.”

Dick ignored the curl of dread, forcing his voice vaguely cheerful. “And what conversation is that?” He wasn’t restrained. Was he not restrained because he wasn’t supposed to be awake? What was he not supposed to be awake for ?

There was no rain. There was no gravel digging into his back. He was on his side, Hood’s hand spread out across his shoulder blades.

“The conversation about how you aren’t fucking hugging me.” Fingers dug slightly into Dick’s back while he registered the words and then reran them to make sure he’d gotten it correct.

“Hugging you?”

“Just… just shut up and do it.”

“Ummm… okay?” His arms curled around and Hood after a tense moment, melted into the touch.

“Fuck.” Hood groaned, and then lay still. He was still awake. He was definitely still awake with the slight shivers running under Dick’s hands.

Dick had to admit… while not yet unpleasant… this had to be one of the strangest kidnappings he’d dealt with. “So uh… not to… not that I want to end this whole cuddle session but um… you didn’t have me kidnapped just to hug you right? Like… there-”

“Actually, that’s pretty close.”

Dick paused, very carefully not letting his arms loosen. “I’m sorry… what?” Was Hood messing with him? The man was a ruthless murderer who left bodies in his wake and gutters running with blood during his quest to establish himself as a major crime lord. He’d secured his place via severed heads .

Red Hood gave a full body and despite voice modulation very put upon sounding sigh. “Employees of the fucking month that lot. I make one, one , passing comment about you looking a lot like my brother and suddenly that’s their solution to Poison Ivy pollen.”

Dick stared blankly at the red, turning over that information. At least… at least it was brotherly affection although he must have been a damn near ringer for it to trigger a purely platonic reaction. Did he have a doppleganger or clone he didn’t know about? He carefully shut away the question about alternate universes. He did not want to know. Horses before zebras and all that. “So… they kidnapped me to give you hugs because you’re high on pollen?” Which… okay actually that explained a lot about why he had a crime lord glued to his chest but also… “Why not just ask your brother?”

Hood gave a mechanical sounding laugh. “Yeah… he wouldn’t take that call. At best he’d laugh. At worst he’d come with fists flying. Plus I don’t wanna talk to him.”

Okay… so apparently family drama had gotten him kidnapped for cuddling? No indication that he couldn’t call a brother though, just very much didn’t want to.

Definitely the strangest kidnapping he’d had but… if it was that and Hood wasn’t messing with him then… “So… when the pollen wears off?”

“You’ll be free to go. I mean… we’ll knock you out again and drop you off somewhere but that’s it.”

“... that’s it…”

“Look, it wasn’t my idea to fucking kidnap the golden boy ward of Brucie Wayne okay. I was handling it and they come in here and fucking drop you on top of me in a move so breathtakingly stupid that I honestly don’t even know what to do with it so yeah… no ransom, no torture, no fucking anything. As soon as I can physically let go of you, bye-bye.”

Strangest. Kidnapping. Ever. “You’re not even going to try a ransom?”

“No I’m fucking not, Ceaser , because I’m fully aware that if a crime lord calls Bruce because he kidnapped his son then Brucie is going to be all weepy on the phone and during interviews or whatever the fuck and that’s going to officially set off the bats who are going to come in force to kick down my god damned door so that they can make sure the perfect, never wrong Dick Grayson is fucking fine and in doing so absolutely fuck my entire plan. Now fucking drop it before my urge to return you in less than one piece overrides the stupid pollen.”

Dick… shut his mouth and Hood after grumbling a few more profanities tucked himself closer and heaved a sigh.

Well… if he wasn’t in direct danger, yet, then… he could still evaluate the room? Hood could very easily change his mind and even if he didn’t then any information they could get on the man would be of benefit.

The apartment beyond the crime lord wasn’t overly visible and seemed distinctly plain. A bookshelf overflowing with books. A battered table with neatly organized gun cleaning supplies. A TV with a cracked remote sitting in front of it. The coffee table was out of tumbling range though when he tried to sit up to see if maybe there were two of them Hood had growled at him and shoved his head back down.

“Jesus Christ, stop squirming .”

“I’m trying to get comfortable.”

“Fucking quit .”

Dick made a sound in his throat, inching his hands along the armored back. “Well maybe if you weren’t wearing bullet proof armor, it’d be easier.”

“Fine. Fucking fine . If I ditch the chest plate will you just hold still ?”

Wait, Hood actually fell for that during the first round? “Yes!”

“God damned fucking-” Hood continued the hissed curses under his breath even as he twisted. By the time he’d gotten two buckles undone, he was shivering too badly to manage the third. He stilled as Dick curled a hand around, undoing the strap for him. The rest came off more or less readily, the helmet letting out slight static sounds every now and then which Dick ignored. He didn’t want to know how many small sounds it hid, it would make him feel bad.

Eventually, Hood had only the cargo pants, a dark undershirt that had definitely seen better days, and his helmet on. Dick held him for some time, the form nearly limp. “Better?”

“If I get shot by my own men I’m passing it on to you.”

“They’re not going to shoot you.”

Hood snorted but didn’t follow through. Instead he relaxed further and further while Dick rubbed his back. His breathing was deep and even when Dick shifted. Immediately the arm slung over his waist tightened. “Dickie…”

Dick froze, forcing himself to breathe slowly and easily. He couldn’t react to that nickname. “What?”

“When you make a break for it… don’t leave me on my back.” Hood tucked himself further against Dick’s arm. “Hate waking up on my back.”

“What makes you think-”

Hood shifted and while the helmet was blank, Dick got the distinct feel of the raised eyebrow. “Because you aren’t stupid.” Hood tucked himself back, muttering though the helmet picked it up anyway. “Not most of the time anyway.”

Dick settled down, wrapping his arms around the form and trying very, very hard not to picture one of the younger birds. This was a murderer, not one of the family that he was cuddling after a pollen episode. This was someone who was being friendly to great suspicion. Granted, his reasoning, while a bit of a leap if one wasn’t in the know, was actually sound and the story of it being a mistake was so out there that Dick couldn’t quite help but kinda believe it.

“Hood.”

He got a grumble more felt than heard in response.

“I won’t leave you on your back.” Tension that had been thrumming under Dick’s hands eased and Dick stretched himself out, hooking his leg back over the far too large form. “If you’ll promise me something similar.”

“What?”

“Don’t… Don’t bracket my hips.” It was a risk. Dick was pretty sure he could manage though. He wouldn’t like it. He’d hate it actually but Hood was a massive mountain of a man nearly reaching Bruce sizes and they were inside, warm, not a hint of gravel in sight. Hood did use guns but currently he smelled more like someone who hadn’t showered in three days than gunpowder. It shouldn’t debilitate Dick if Hood took advantage of the weakness, or the olive branch he was returning.

Hood snorted. “I’m not dumb. I’m fully aware of how flexible you are, Dickiebird. Never assume holds work normally on a fucking contortionist. Got that lesson beat into me enough, thanks.”

Dick just stared, and if Hood noticed the tension he ignored it. He just settled into place and for a long, long stretch of time neither of them moved, or spoke, or dared to break the silence.

Logic said it was a wild guess. Dick Grayson’s tragedy wasn’t exactly unknown. He also wasn’t a ‘contortionist’ but… but how many had ever called him Dickiebird… ‘looking a lot like my brother’ .

Dick forced himself to wait longer, analyzing everything about Red Hood, drawing parallels. He kept jumping though, forced to backtrack and look at things in a detached way. Yes, Red Hood used to be Joker’s name. No, no connection between this Red Hood and Joker had been confirmed.

It would be just like Jason to take something from Joker though wouldn’t it. Always the dramatic one.

Yes, those were a collection of books so overflowing that plenty of them had been placed on top of the usual rows. All of them showed extensive wear and tear so it couldn’t be identified if they were favored or not. More likely they were simply used. Yes, Jason’s favorites were among those easily reached or most recently placed. No, that didn’t mean that it was anything more than coincidence. Jason had liked pretty popular classics.

The apartment didn’t hold much else in the way of identifying marks. There was also the absolutely glaring issue that was Jason being dead. Jason being dead and gone and if he was alive he would have come back, he would have contacted them, he would have… he wouldn’t have…

Red Hood was most definitely not a 15 year old kid. How old was he? If it was Jason… then there was 3 years unaccounted for and how much of that had he actually been dead? How would he have come back and who could have gotten to him before then? Dick had plenty of painfully personal experience with people who were more than happy to forcibly take Robins away to try and mold them into their own version.

He was spiraling. For now… for now he needed to identify if Red Hood was Jason or not, or claiming to be Jason. Red Hood’s breathing had evened out again, slow and soft under Dick’s fingertips.

Well, if nothing else… it would also get him more information about Red Hood though he hoped it didn’t come at too painful of a cost.

Slowly, carefully, he reached up with his fingers sliding along the undershirt.

There were latches on the underside of the helmet. Air hissed, Dick distantly noting that the helmet was airtight. Then slowly he was lifting it off.

Hood tensed, Dick getting just enough time to mentally curse before they both rolled off the couch in a mess of limbs. Dick got the oh so lucky position of being on his back, full weight pressing down even as he twisted and managed to get onto his side. Hood let him finish the twist, a hand on his arm, yanking it up and behind harshly while his legs… while Hood gave up a better hold so that one knee dug into his back and the other was wrapped around his legs entirely so that Dick’s hips were never… they weren’t…

Dick let himself go limp in the hold, not fighting against it and was rewarded with a less harsh hold and Hood slumping to lay sprawled on his back. Above him the modulator crackled and hissed and was in no way understandable. Dick risked tilting his head to the side. He couldn’t fully see Red Hood, but he could catch the reflection in the TV. It looked like the helmet had been partially shifted, enough that maybe the mic inside of it wasn’t seated properly anymore.

The helmet crackled again before he felt a growl roll through Red Hood’s chest. The hand on his wrist tightened, shifting his arm in a sort of shake a bit before the man’s other hand went to the helmet.

It came off fairly easily, Dick hardly daring to breathe. “Happy now?” Thick Crime Alley accent, the tone younger than the helmet and stature made Red Hood seem. Not enough yet.

“The helmet didn’t seem comfortable.”

“You’re a goddamn idiot . You know the first rule of kidnapping and you fucking try to see the kidnapper’s face?”

Did he risk it? He wasn’t certain. It would borderline be a wild guess in the dark.

If Red Hood wasn’t … then he didn’t know about the whole Nightwing thing and might just think that Dick Grayson was insane. Grief stricken? He was… but this would be a bit of a different level.

If he was right …

“I think it’s valid to want to see my brother’s face.”

Red Hood went rigid, the hand clamping down to the point where it was painfully tight. It was as good as an admittance and they both knew it. Red Hood gave a choking sort of laugh and collapsed on top of him.

“I should knee cap every single one of those fucks.”

“Please don’t. They were trying to help you.”

“They have ruined literally all of my plans.” Hood grumbled and after a moment released Dick’s arm in favor of laying his head between Dick’s shoulderblades. “I had plans… I had speeches. Bruce was going to… I was going to make him… Fuck! Turn the fuck over!”

Dick had never been happier to follow the orders of a kidnapper. He squirmed and wiggled under Hood’s deadweight until finally, finally he could see Hood’s face. Well, actually it took cupping the man’s face and forcing it up while he did his best to bury it in Dick’s collarbone.

Jason scowled back at him. Older… scarred distinctly differently… and with eyes a sort of green blue mix rather than the vivid blue of before. The same jaw, the same expression of mullish annoyance and stubbornness hiding too many emotions. Dick barely dared to breathe, carefully holding that face like it was the most breakable thing in the world, lightly brushing his thumbs across Jason’s cheekbones and feeling at the back where the stubble had grown rather long. “Little Wing…” His voice was thin, shaking and Jason’s face wasn’t quite right anymore. Nothing was quite clear anymore.

“Idiot. If I have to put up with water works, get on with the hugging, Dickface.”

Dick wrapped himself around Jason, holding him close. “ How ?”

“Don’t know. Don’t want to talk about it.” Dick wrapped himself tighter, not really caring that it might normally be complained about or get him peeled off. Under his arms and legs, Jason gave a sort of grunting sound and went limp. “Finally.”

“You’re… you’re really…?”

Jason gave a full body sigh. “The first time I tried to do trapeze I hesitated too long, and you pushed me off. I screamed, and let go at the bottom of the arc and you immediately freaked out despite the fact that I was fine , the net caught me.”

“I’m so sorry!”

“Every fucking time… Need more lovely ‘bonding’ experience memories?” Apparently Dick was too slow in deciding to shake his head because Jason grumbled. “A week before Thanksgiving, you came to the manor and pretty much immediately got into it with B. I was scared you’d leave, so I stole the tires off your bike and hid them in Alfie’s room. He polished them, and made me put them back on after you’d spent two days trying to find them and yelling at B to give them back every time you saw him. The look on your face was priceless when Alfred handed you the cleaning supplies and suggested detailing the rest of the bike with me as part of my punishment. After… B tried to sit me down and explain that I didn’t need to keep trying to sell tires, that he’d pay for anything I wanted.”

“We detailed the Batmobile too… You had all the tires off in under 5 minutes so we could ‘really get them shining’. I couldn’t stop laughing at B’s face when he came down to his car sitting on training blocks.”

Jason smiled against his chest. “He was so mad.” After a moment, Jason’s grin turned wider. “You should help me steal his tires.”

If it got Jason back to the manor, Dick would happily hand deliver every single tire that Bruce Wayne owned or could lay claim to. Which actually… Jason had always been creative and good with mechanics, he could probably figure it out right? “Just the Batmobile’s tires?”

“God, that tone is still the same…”

“I’m just saying… There are other vehicles that have tires that are sitting around the batcave that I could help get you to. Surely a plane can’t be that different right?”

Jason was still and silent for a long moment. “Do they also have bats on them?”

“Of course.”

“We steal them both… and the Batcycle’s.”

Dick nodded along. “Naturally.”

“No…” Dick’s heart plummeted. His entire body stiffening as Jason uncurled like he was going to sit up. He paused, shuddering and wincing before collapsing back down onto Dick. “No… better… I need you to tell me every time that Batman brings a vehicle into my territory.”

“I… while he’s on patrol ?”

“Yes! Stealing them from the cave is too obvious, and I need him to stew in it for as long as possible. Plus, it should drive him absolutely insane if Red Hood keeps showing up with the Batman’s tires.”

Just as theatrical as he remembered. It would definitely drive B insane which Dick might feel a little bad for… maybe… except for this plan to work… “I’d need a way to contact you at any point in time.”

Jason stilled for a moment. “I swear, if you send me stupid puns at 3AM… And no group chats!”

“So you are giving me your number? Your real number?”

“As real as a dead man has.” Dick winced, which Jason ignored. “And absolutely no telling anyone else that I’m not so dead.”

“You’ll tell them eventually though… B… B really does miss you. Alfie too and Tim… oh god Tim…”

Jason had gone completely still, Dick pausing to rub his hands up and down Jason’s back, a question on his tongue when Jason snarled. “What about the fucking replacement?”

For a second Dick focused on breathing, on cataloging the very sudden shift and the sheer rage in the tone and the way Jason’s arms were suddenly steel bands around his chest. “Jason?”

“You are absolutely not allowed to tell that little fucking cuckoo-”

“Jason!”

“Going to defend him? Naturally, of course you would. After all he’s the better version isn’t he? Just the absol-”

Dick twisted, rolling the pair of them and it turned out the coffee table wasn’t far enough since both of their sides banged into it. It worked fairly well even if there was suddenly a hand on Dick’s throat, the other locked around his waist. Dick had kept one of his around Jason’s shoulder and back, the other pressed over his brother’s mouth while they stared eye to eye. The blue was entirely gone, replaced by a vapid sickening green that seemed to glow faintly and that made Dick’s heart clench. “Jason… Oh, Little Wing… Who got to you? Who filled your head with lies like that?”

Jason snorted, and Dick closed his eyes. One deep breath in, and out. Jason wasn’t trying to throw him and hadn’t bitten him yet. He dared shift, the hand on his throat tightening briefly until both of Dick’s hands were cupping Jason’s cheeks.

“Little Wing, listen to me. Forget whatever lies were programmed into your head.” Jason’s eyes narrowed but before he could speak Dick set their foreheads together. “We love you. Losing you… hurt. It hurt so god damned much… That love for you, our grief that you weren’t there , that we’d lost you… nothing could make us forget that. Nothing could replace you. The mantle passed on, it does that . From me to you, you to Tim.”

“At least you got a choice ! At least it wasn’t still warm !”

Dick let the bitter laugh out. “It wasn’t.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“It wasn’t a choice…. B took it away, fired me from Robin, from my family colors… and a week later gave it to some kid he’d randomly dragged home.”

Dick let it sink it, watching Jason’s expressions flash and flicker, the eyes shifting through so many shades of green. Finally, they narrowed. “The fuck do you mean… family colors?”

Dick winced. “The Flying Graysons.”

“Fucking Christ , Dickie… Are you shitting me? Robin was… it… I’m going to fucking kill B.”

The vivid green made Dick leery of how real that threat was. “No, no… no killing family members. Actually it’d be better if you’d stop killing in gen-”

“Now is not the time for your Golden Boy bullshit!”

“I’m over it! I’m okay with it! I wanted you to be Robin!”

“Bullshit you did!”

“Okay… okay maybe not at first but later!” Quick, quick, deflect. “And at least it’s not like B just handed Robin over to Tim… you were… you were dead and Tim came in and forced B to take him as Robin.”

“Bullshit! B went out and found some kid who mostly fit and shoved him in the costume before I was even in the ground!”

“Oh absolutely not! B grieved for months . He swore there’d never be another Robin but he was erratic, violent. He was putting people in the hospital, crippling them permanently, not dodging . He was trying to follow you! I… I couldn’t… even when Tim came to see me, came to beg me to be Robin again... I couldn’t… so he blackmailed Bruce into taking him…”

Jason was staring, his eyes narrowed and literally glowing again. “ Blackmail ?”

“Tim… Tim knew who we were. Had known… he had pictures, backups… proof…”

“He made Batman?” Jason’s face did an odd thing, undecided if it wanted to be impressed, stubborn, or continue the fury.

“Yeah… yeah he did. Made us when he was 9 years old.”

Jason’s eyes flickered slightly. “He’s 15 now. I’m sorry… he made Batman when you were Robin?”

“Yeah…”

“You said there were pictures. That Re- the kid- had pictures…”

Dick nodded. “Apparently he went out pretty regularly, had pictures of all of us… good ones at that though I’ve never seen the full-”

“He’s the kid!”

Dick blinked. “What?”

“The fucking… oh for fuck’s sake… He’s that rich brat totally unaware of the meal ticket for the month around his neck who got stuck on the water tower! The little Batstalker!”

“Water tower? Hold on… did you help him down or something?” Dick stiffened, pulling back as far as Jason’s suddenly tightening grip allowed to stare at his brother. “Did you buy him ice cream after?”

“Little shit wanted pictures together despite not even being able to string three words together without mumbling… I had to order for him because the counter chick couldn’t hear him.”

Well, at least Dick now had a bit of context for Tim’s passing comment about having met Jason once, about them having ice cream together. “He’s gotten a little better though… maybe not around you.”

“What the fuck’s his problem with me !?”

“Hero worship.”

Jason stared at him. “Stealing my suit was hero worship !?”

Dick winced at the volume. They had been being kind of loud but that might actually be heard outside. “Sh, sh… your men…”

Jason’s jaw flexed, and he took a deep breath. “What the fuck is wrong with that kid?”

“Lack of family affection and validation mostly…”

Jason’s eyes flashed. “What, mommy and daddy did-”

“I was his first hug.”

That broke whatever rant was winding up with the pulsing green eyes. Instead it actually drained away. “What?”

“He met me… before… He mentioned it, that the reason he so vividly remembered the circus he visited despite being tiny was because that was the day he got his first hug… from me… a complete stranger…”

“His parents…”

Dick shook his head slightly. “Not a family big on displays of affection.”

Jason’s head thunked back onto the carpet. After a moment he let his hand fall to rub down his face. “You’re really killing all of my plan motivations, Dickface.”

He wisely refrained from commenting out loud that he was glad of it.

For a few minutes they were silent before Dick glanced to the side. “So… How likely do you think getting back to the couch is?”

Jason groaned. “Just leave me to expire here…”

Dick bit back the instinctive retort about Jason currently smelling worse for the wear. “I think we can do it. You aren’t otherwise injured right? I can hold on tight…”

“Fucking octopus. Alright, alright…” Dick immediately shifted, chinching himself around Jason as the man sat up. He only let go to get a better hold, though Jason sat for a long moment with his legs sprawled on either side and his hold nearly as tight in return. “Fucking Ivy…”

Dick was definitely going to send her a thank you note later. Along with maybe finding out how exactly Hood had been doused anyway. His setup had seemed pretty protective. “How did you get pollened anyway?”

“One of her stupid thorned vines wrapped up my leg, right under the cuff and into the pants. Turns out when you cut it off, not only does it keep stabbing you, it explodes with pollen too.”

He’d have to keep an eye out for that… although it seemed like an issue for really only Jason. Everyone else’s costumes were tight armored pants whose cuffs were inside the boots. Though… there should have been other protections too.

“It went though the underlayer?” Jason’s jaw flexed, Dick raising an eyebrow. “You… do wear a-”

“Yes, I wear fucking layers! They just… aren’t as overkill as some people.”

“Is it really overkill if it keeps vines from making you into a cuddle bug?”

Jason let out a high pitched sound that might have been a shriek, it was certainly offended. “If I could let go I would throttle you! Besides… they’re are complete overkill for you since you’re a god damned leech who will latch on and strangle tighter!”

Dick grinned, burying his head against Jason’s throat. “Absolutely.”

Jason groaned, but wrapped his arms around Dick. Then, he stood. Well, stumbled to his feet and then collapsed sideways onto the couch was a more accurate way of phrasing it. “I’m still serious about you not telling anyone that I’m back Dickface.”

“You won’t be able to hide it forever.”

Jason snorted. “No. But I can at least give Bruce a few gray hairs figuring it out.”

“So plan ‘steal all of the bat-tires’ is still ago?”

“This is why you aren’t allowed to name things.”

“Oh come on! It’s a great name! Very thematic!”

In the end, Jason groaned, and complained, and even came up with a few creative threats but… without the helmet they didn’t have the same bite. Dick didn’t let go, instead keeping his hugs as tight as he could maintain though he had little doubt that there’d be plenty of muscle soreness later.

Jason bemoaned that his men were both incredibly smart and so, so very stupid when Dick relayed how he had been kidnapped. He also continued making vague threats about maiming them or at least yelling at them though Dick thought they had shown incredible amounts of loyalty for crime lord thugs.

Dick tried to dodge around a few key moments of his life but ended up explaining that him and Kori had drifted apart and weren’t together. He’d also had to explain his complicated relationship now with Barbara… and Zatana, though that one was actually pretty good…

Jason let slip that the person who had kidnapped and brainwashed him was Talia and… given that Jason was somewhat basically a captive audience currently, he had been treated to the entire rant about how much of a lying bitch Talia was.

Dick had to deal with the fact that he was currently hugging his little brother and wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about it and therefore his source of information when Jason just casually shrugged and dropped the absolute bombshell that was “Well, obviously she bold face lies to Bruce. I knew that, given Dami’s Son of the Bat thing while also having never met his father. Even I have no doubt that if Bruce knew he had a son, he’d have been fighting to take that kid home.”

Jasson was happy to tell him all about Dami… Damian… Talia’s son… Bruce’s son. A little boy left the the clutches of the League of Assassins.

Dick pretty much just had to put it in Jason’s head for the man to be on board that they should probably go get their youngest brother.

It did make Jason purse his lips though… since he was entirely convinced that the only reason Damian hadn’t initiated meeting Bruce was because the boy couldn’t figure out how to get to Gotham. If that little piece was solved he would absolutely show up in front of Bruce as soon as he could which would of course, rather ruin the assorted backup plans Jason had been forming about his whole reveal.

Apparently Jason had planned to break into Titan’s Tower and… still planned to do that just in a more… scare Bruce by kidnapping Tim for surprise brotherly bonding way. Very much surprise brotherly bonding since Jason insisted on that being how he revealed to Tim he was alive. Dick would be coming along to supervise, though Jason had rolled his eyes at that. It didn’t take much for Jason to expand on that plan either, once Dick mentioned that there were other kids under the bat's wings now.

Dick didn’t really like that Jason was adamant that all of those bonding sessions had to take place first but… he eventually conceded on the requirement that Jason at least tell Alfred what was going on. The condition had left Jason silent for a long time before he just muttered “Yeah… yeah, I should tell Alfie. I… forgot about Alfred.”

If Dick hadn’t been actively hugging Jason at the time, he would have started.

When Hood’s men came to check on him that evening, Jason dumped Dick off the couch and got up like he was fine. Dick sprawled on the floor, doing very little to hide his grin as Hood shoved the helmet back into place and then stalked to the door. He threw it open, folded his arms at the grinning goons and said flatly. “I should kneecap every single one of you.”

“Bossman! You’re feeling better!”

“I want every single person who participated in this wonderful plan of yours in the downstairs meeting room in 5 minutes.”

“Can I join?”

Hood drew in his breath slowly, turning just slightly enough that Dick could see the lenses. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? I participated .”

“You’re going to chatter the entire time.”

“Scouts honor that I won’t.”

“I know for a god damned fact that you were never a scout and what the fuck are all of you grinning about?”

“It’s just great to see you up and so relaxed, Bossman! All the boys are going to be so happy!”

Hood stood perfectly still for a long moment. “Five minutes.” The door echoed when he slammed it shut and spun.

Dick did join Hood and everyone else, including the girl who apologized for drugging him. He regretted it though, about three hours into Red Hood’s lecturing on pretty much any and all points that he could about well pretty much everything.

At least Dick got catering out of it which was… okay it was a bit weird but apparently Red Hood had standards or something and was starving and really, really wanted the pulled pork and the place was local.

The bag of chips that was semi aggressively handed to him by a scowling caterer included a comm piece. Dick actually did put effort into sneaking it into his ear, though he saw Hood’s doubletake and then careful evaluation of the windows.

“Line is live.” Oracle read off, voice modulated to be nice and calmingly steady.

“N, tap to confirm.” There was B, sounding gruff and on edge.

Dick considered if he wanted to have them trying to get a mission report while he was still ‘kidnapped’... or if he wanted them to crash in for a rescue or…

He stood. “Well… this has been great. Hood, can I assume you’re still going to make good on your word?”

Red Hood leaned back. “Gonna have to be more specific, Dickface.”

“That once the mistake was concluded, I was good to go?”

Tim sounded disbelieving. “Mistake?” Dick ignored it.

Red Hood scoffed “ Now you want to leave? What happened to ‘oh, can I come to this meeting’?”

“You’ve been lecturing your men for three hours about how you did not in fact want me kidnapped… I think we all get it.”

“So what… you were just waiting for me to feed you before running off?”

Dick made it a point to crunch loudly on a chip.

“Whatever, fine. Leave then. Shoo, off with you to do whatever rich boys like you do with your evenings. Be gone. Get out.”

“Um… Bossman… should we…?”

“What?”

“Well, it’s just that… he’s from Bludhaven and we didn’t exactly bring a car …”

Red Hood scoffed, flicking his hand. “Like I care. He probably has some butler he can call or some shit. Unless you’re offering.”

“But boss… we have his phone…”

Red Hood went still, and then ever so slightly his head tilted back like he was looking to the sky for guidance or perhaps saying a prayer. “You have his phone.”

“Y-yeah… we emptied his pockets when we kidnapped him.”

“And you didn’t… I don’t know… toss his phone out where you kidnapped him?”

“Um… no?”

“Didn’t put it in his squad car like the jacket?”

“No. Since you’d asked for him to deal with the whole-”

Hood held up a hand. “One, didn’t ask for him, you took a passing comment wildly out of context and proportion.” The man, Bill, opened his mouth and then thought better of it. “Two, you what… thought that maybe the person you kidnapped might want their phone or something? That it might be a nice gesture to bring it with you? That it could be fucking tracked !?” Red Hood slammed his fist down hard enough to make the table rattle. Then he leaned back, scrubbing his hands down his helmet. “Fuuuuuucccccckkkkk… Okay, new lecture points.”

Dick made his escape while he could, slipping out as Red Hood stood to apparently do something what the literal whiteboard that existed in the room that he’d already made pretty liberal use of. The door clicked behind him, Dick making his way down the hall to the nearest goon. “Hey…can I borrow your phone? I need to make a call.”

The goon glanced up and down him, then towards the room where Red Hood’s voice could faintly be heard clearly yelling. “Uh… yeah? Why?”

“I need to call a butler to come pick me up.”

He probably wouldn’t be able to get Alfred and Jason in the same space without someone listening in but… it was worth a try since Jason had already made the jab. Plus, it would reassure Alfred himself if he had eyes on Dick and knew he was unharmed. It also served the advantage of letting Alfred know exactly where Jason was… at least assuming Jason didn’t do something drastic like move his entire base of operations.

Eh, even if he did… Dick had Jason’s number memorized now. He would just be sure to get his little brother’s new address at the first opportunity. Which would probably be a little bit…

Maybe he could convince Alfred to take the long route back, or maybe stop somewhere for something so he could put off the interrogation no doubt waiting for him back at the cave…

Maybe he should have stayed listening to Jason lecture like a drama queen after all…

Chapter Text

Alfred had seen Richard Grayson in a number of moods, highs and lows, serious and relaxed around family, teammates, and enemies. It was a matter of course for his charges, a way to better assist them by anticipating what they might need.

To receive a request to pick Master Dick up had been rather unexpected, and Bruce along with several other family members waited nearby and out of sight for the trap to spring. It was the most likely after all, even if Dick himself seemed particularly cheerful and amused about the whole ordeal. Similarly, the back seat was prepped for injury of just about any nature, Alfred bracing himself for the usual smile hiding a grimace and Dick’s way of moving almost normally despite grievous wounds.

What Alfred had not quite prepared for was pulling up to the address sent, Dick’s phone pinging from the same location, and seeing Dick truly smiling. Alfred had heard the joy in his voice as he reported in but actually seeing it… Dick was nearly glowing with it even as he dragged a crime lord around by his shoulder. A crime lord who looked very much like he didn’t want to be there, was putting on an entire sulking show that he didn’t want to be there, but was hiding a whole host of other emotions and was certainly not trying very hard to pull out of Dick’s grip.

As the car pulled smoothly to a stop, Alfred stepped out to open the door for Dick, his eyes skating up and down in assessment. “Master Dick.”

“Hey Alfred!” Dick beamed, slinging an arm around Red Hood’s shoulders, the other man bending slightly to accommodate it even as the helmet hissed with static and he folded his arms. The gaze only ticked away from Alfred for a moment though, the glowing lenses fixed on the butler. “Thanks for coming to pick me up!”

“Of course, Master Dick. I am happy to personally see to the safety of any of my charges at any time.”

Dick… slapped the top of Red Hood’s helmet, Alfred freezing. “Hear that? Any of his charges at any time.”

Red Hood grumbled , pushing a laughing Dick away from him. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

Dick, no doubt in a blind spot created by the helmet, gave Alfred a signal that read… not only all clear but… that the family was all clear.

Rather than let his frown be seen, Alfred turned assessing eyes to the man in front of him. The man who had shifted to rub the back of his neck despite the layers of armor, the gesture hauntingly familiar. “Sorry about the mixup, Al- uh… It really wasn’t intentional.” Dick draped both arms over Red Hood’s shoulders, or tried to. Red Hood ducked out of the way. “Get off! The pollen’s long worn off by now!”

Dick grinned back, clearly biting his cheek on whatever he wanted to say in response while Red Hood seethed and… and Alfred took a deeper breath.

Dick was warm, kind, and approachable. It was something he worked hard on projecting but for this to be his behavior. It was not something he would do with a stranger. Family clear . Dick had signaled.

Alfred smiled, “Will Master Hood be joining us in the car as well?”

“Wha- no! Nope!” Red Hood turned, pointing a finger right under Dick’s cheshire grin. “No! You are leaving. You said you were leaving, and you are. I am staying here and finishing my meeting.”

“Lecture, you mean.”

Red Hood shoved Dick away, the acrobat dramatically stumbling before Hood flicked something out to Alfred. “ Please get him out of here. I really don’t want to deal with any bats.” The card was simple enough, with just a phone number and a J that Alfred could distinctly remember helping a young man practice over and over again until he declared it just right for his signature.

Alfred reached out, Red Hood going perfectly still as Alfred laid his hand on the man’s arm. Ever so slightly, the man crumpled and leaned into it.

Only years of practice kept Alfred from showing more than the faint tick of a smile. “You are sure, Master Hood?”

For a moment Red Hood breathed. Then he gave a too sharp nod. “I mean it. No bats.”

“Very well. Master Dick?”

It… hurt… driving the car away while Red Hood watched and Dick leaned over the seats not so subtly watching the mirrors as well. What hurt less was the sharp edges of the card pressing against his breast through the suit pocket with the plain numbers and the stylized J.