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“This is just- it’s just bullshit!” Tim said vehemently. He tried to scoop another spoonful of ice cream with the arm that wasn’t currently held hostage in a bright red cast without dropping the entire bowl into the street below them.
“Well yeah, it’s life with ‘The Batman’,” Steph replied absently, swinging her legs over the deserted street. And she wasn’t wrong. “The Batman” made lots of questionable decisions, and from what she had heard thus far, this was going to be one of them. “I mean, from what you know for sure about this guy, he has access to Bat-information that no random Rogue should know and targets Robin specifically, and B thinks the Tower will keep you safe?”
“That’s exactly what I tried to say! But he was all ‘no Tim, you just don’t want to be benched Tim, Batman knows best, Tim”.” Tim rolled his eyes at the skyline.
Stephanie raised an eyebrow at Tim so blatantly using names in the field. Not that it worried her; there was no one to hear them up here anyway, but it was unusual for him. “He used that many words?”
“Well, no,” Tim started defensively. “But it’s what he meant!”
“I’m sure it was, Boy Wonder.” Steph laughed a little and then looked back at the street contemplatively. “So….to recap: Bruce told you to go to the tower, you don’t want to go to the tower, and the exact psycho he’s trying to protect you from might be waiting to use this very thing as an opportunity to get to you?”
“Yeah that pretty much covers it.” They sat in silence for a moment, and Steph let her thoughts drift again until- “What?”
“Hm?” Steph answered eloquently.
“I know that look. What are you trying to plan?”
“Well…” she trailed off again and stared into the middle distance before snapping herself out of it. “Well, Bruce said he wanted Robin to go to the Tower, right?”
“Right…” Tim replied hesitantly.
“But you’re currently injured, and going to the Tower would potentially be delivering you into the arms of someone who may want you dead.”
“Well when you put it like that…”
“So you can’t go.”
“No I– Yes, Steph, I can, and I have to.”
“No. Even if there’s only a chance the Red Hood can get in, that’s still a chance, and not one I want to take.”
“I can’t just…not……go?” Tim sounded unsure of himself. “I mean, B all but ordered me to, and I’m not exactly trying to get myself benched forever.”
Steph took a calming breath before speaking. She loved Tim, but Jesus Christ could he be dense sometimes. “B said that Robin had to be at the Tower.”
“Yes? And?” Tim was starting to look at her like she was crazy.
“Well…considering there have been four Robins, that’s not very specific of him,” Steph continued with faux nonchalance.
“I’m pretty sure he meant-”
“So–hypothetically speaking of course–if one of those other Robins went to the Tower-”
“I see where you’re going with this and-”
“We’d technically still be doing what he said he wanted.”
“Steph, no. Even if I were willing to send someone else as Robin straight to someone who wants Robin dead, which I am not! For the record! Three out of the four aren’t Robin anymore so it’s pretty clear who B was talking about.”
Steph smiled at him innocently. “You know, I don’t remember officially giving the title back, and B never actually fired me so…”
“Stephanie Brown, I said no. I’m not sending you to a known murderer and crime lord who, might I remind you, wants Robin dead. Or at the very least, maimed.” Tim looked solemnly determined, like he knew he was sending himself to an early grave but was going to willingly lie down in it regardless. He was generally difficult to convince when determined, but luckily, Steph was an expert.
“Look, he’s dropped heavy hints that he knows your civilian identities, right?” Tim visibly tensed at the question. It almost made her feel bad for asking it. Almost.
“Yes. He has,” he replied tightly.
“Well then, you have no way of knowing whether he has it out for Robin or Tim Drake. Or Tim Drake as Robin.”
Tim looked like he wanted to protest but couldn’t come up with anything, so she soldiered on.
“If it’s two out of the three of those, I’m safe. I’m not you and wearing the Robin costume can’t change that.”
She searched his face for signs that he was close to giving in.
“And, that’s like a 66% chance that he doesn’t even dislike me. And if he doesn’t actively hate me, I’m good because Hood doesn’t hurt kids.” Her eyes unconsciously flicked to his cast, still a shining bright red even in the dark, and could feel the moment they decided to let ‘other than you’ hang in the air unsaid. “Besides, I’ve got two working arms. At the end of the day, even if he does hate Robin for Robin’s sake, I’d be better equipped to defend myself than you’d be.” She could see the wheels turning in his head sputter to a stop and then slowly restart again. It was the final nail in the metaphorical coffin. She had won.
“Steph…I still can’t–” Tim tried. He huffed out a frustrated breath.
“You got this, Boy Wonderful. Use your words.”
“I can’t let you get hurt for me. Hood hates me. If I let you go in my place, and he hurts you…” Tim trailed off, looking at the barely rising sun as if it would finish the sentence for him if only he looked hard enough at it. Steph was no star, but she supposed she could take pity on him this time.
“I get it. I promise, I really do. But Tim?” She waited for him to meet her eyes before continuing. “Me sending you to the Tower, defenseless and alone, with a broken arm? I can’t do that either. Not knowing what we know.” He stared back at her, searching for god-only-knows what in her expression. He seemed to find what he had been looking for.
“Ok…ok. But if we’re doing this, I need more of a plan than “maybe he just hates you, not Robin”.
Steph grinned with a few too many teeth to be considered harmless.
Robin-03’s codes were used to enter the Tower at 3:24 P.M. on Friday. It was sunny in San Francisco, Stephanie noted absently as she stepped out of the zeta and took a breath before heading to the control room to settle in. It was going to be a long weekend.
Jason stalked through the halls, green swirling in the forefront of his mind. His replacement had to be around somewhere. The logs indicated that he had gotten here the day before and had yet to leave, so where was he? Jason surgically cleared floor after floor. The Replacement wasn’t in his room, or in the kitchen, or the gym, or any of the three lounges. Maybe the cuckoo had decided to flee after all. He hadn’t envisioned his replacement as a coward, but he’d been wrong before. Although to flee, he would have to have known that the Red Hood was coming, and that was impossible. Jason had ensured it.
Getting into the Tower had been laughably easy. Jason had been prepared to have to hack in to reach the little bird’s nest, but even that hadn’t been necessary. Jason’s old codes had yet to be removed from Tower security, even now, years after his death. Just another pebble on top of the mountain of proof that Batman hadn’t even thought about him after the burial that Dick hadn’t deemed important enough to attend. It was pathetic.
Jason slowed to listen at the door of the control room. He had thought he heard someone typing, but the sound stopped when he got near enough to really hear it. Huh. Maybe the replacement wasn’t so useless after all if he’d already gone to get the Tower off of lockdown. Nothing he tried would work, but he couldn’t know that. Jason turned to the door and eased it open, silent as a lion on a hunt. Or perhaps, a hawk. Did hawks eat robins? It didn’t matter.
The door, to its credit, was just as silent as Jason prayed it would be. It was not the door who audibly gasped at the sight of a blonde girl in a purple hoodie where there should have been a dark haired boy in a Robin suit. The girl turned her head sharply, hand twitching to something, presumably a weapon, at her side.
“Hood,” she said darkly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Well hello to you too, Jason thought. “Where’s Robin?” he growled, in place of a response.
The girl - Jason was going to call her Blondie - spun the chair fully around, raised an eyebrow, still glaring, and gestured with the hand not on her presumed weapon to herself. “Right here, in the flesh.” She slowly stood, holding tight to what looked to be a collapsible bo-staff, and Jason now saw that she was wearing the hoodie over the Robin suit. “Now, if I may ask again, what are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d pop by and check out the replacement,” Jason said with feigned nonchalance. If anything, the sentence made her glare more, which Jason hadn’t thought possible.
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully.” Blondie’s voice was dangerously light. Jason wasn’t one to let teenagers intimidate him, but he had to admit, she was good. “Get. Out.”
Jason laughed, voice modulator making it sound more menacing than he had really meant it to be, as he leveled a gun at her head. “You’re in no place to be making demands, birdie.” Blondie froze from where she had been trying to inch towards the door. Good. She was finally getting with the program. That should make this infinitely easier. “Now, I asked once, and I’m not going to ask nicely again so, where’s Robin? Not you. You know who I’m looking for.”
Blondie’s furious expression morphed into wary confusion before settling on wary concern. “I really, really don’t.” Her expression shifted again. “And you should have left when I gave you the chance.”
With that, she lunged. She hit Jason on the head with her bo-staff, hard, which disoriented him just enough for her to push past him, out the door, and through to the hall. Jason swore and turned to give chase. This is why he hated- well, he didn’t hate all kids, just two, really. Just Robins.
Stephanie risked a half-feral grin over her shoulder as she raced through the halls of Titans Tower. Yes, everything was going the way she had envisioned it. Sure, Tim had explicitly told her not to psychologically traumatize Jason (if it really was Jason) unnecessarily, but she had to say something when he asked where the actual Robin 3 was, and maybe Steph could have come up with a story that wasn’t the one she was planning to use, but it was the one she came up with first, and if it made him feel bad, oh well. If his intentions were better than she feared they were, this wouldn’t even phase him because he wouldn’t believe it. That was, of course, the other reason she had chosen this particular explanation: it was self-perpetuating. If he had something to feel guilty for, he would. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have anything to worry about, except maybe her sanity. He came here to attack them. It’s not like he could expect them to roll over and be nice when he’s trying to permanently maim/ kill them. And maybe he hadn’t actually tried to hurt her yet, but he broke Tim’s arm and sue her, she was still pissed about it. If it was a fight he wanted, she would happily oblige. The only part of this that had maybe gone not-so-swimmingly was that she wasn’t supposed to still be in the control room when he arrived. She was supposed to have found a way to keep communication up during the inevitable blackout, and she was supposed to be in the second lounge where she had hidden her own personal arsenal of fun tricks. However, even with Tim’s help, she hadn’t been able to find a way to keep communications up in a way that wasn’t glaringly obvious to anyone shutting the system down. So here she was, running through the halls and going over where she had stashed which weapon in her mind. While she was painfully aware that no backup would be coming any time soon, Steph had never been more glad that Tim wasn’t anywhere near her.
Jason considered himself a patient person. Even if he hadn’t come by it naturally, being a crime lord required a high degree of patience and planning and restraint. Sometimes plans fall through, and generally competent people screw up, and you can’t kill them because they’re generally competent, but it delays your plans by months. And when that happens, Jason prized himself on his ability to be reasonable and work with what he still had to salvage the situation. That being said, the newest bird was lucky that she didn’t have a bullet in her brain, a hypothetical that brought itself miles closer to reality every second he went unable to find her. He had skipped the second lounge because a faint noise had caught his attention from the kitchen, but he was beginning to think that had been a diversion. He stalked back towards the lounge. He logically knew the emergency lights made the Tower glow red, but before him was a sea of emerald.
“Birdie, come out now, and I won’t hurt you.” Jason grit his teeth. As much as the green hated the words, they were the truth. Whoever this bird was, she wasn’t of any consequence to him, and he didn’t hurt kids, even annoying Not-Robins who didn’t know when to quit. Speaking of, a piece of paper floated down from the ceiling before landing at his feet. He picked it up warily.
I’m Bisexual, it read.
Jason closed his eyes against the green. He wasn’t going to kill her, he wasn’t. She was still a kid. He took a deep breath.
“That seems like the kind of information you shouldn't divulge to a crime lord,” he said as mildly as his helmet would allow. “Kid, I really just want to talk. You can come down.”
Something sticky and distinctly purple hit the front of his helmet, blinding him. He heard Blondie drop down from her hiding place and crumpled to his knees after she fucking dead-legged him, what the fuck.
He instinctively sent his elbow back, internally wincing when it actually connected with the teen vigilante, and stood back up, refusing to have his back to a threat. She retaliated by punching him in the gut, which, rude. He managed to back Blondie into the wall, holding her there with one hand while he struggled to get his helmet off with the other. “You are really pushing it,” he growled, resisting the urge to throw the helmet off as hard as he could. He would rather not die in another explosion, thank you very much, especially not one from his own helmet. He turned to look her in the eye after setting his helmet down, eyes glowing green in the dark.
“I know you know what I’m about to ask. If you answer for me immediately, I’ll let you go.” He looked at her and almost felt a twinge of guilt at the fear and desperation in her eyes, but it wasn’t his fault she refused to answer a simple question, and he hadn’t even hurt her (Yet, whispered the green. Jason ignored it.) . “Where is the third Robin?”
She glared back at him. If looks could kill…let’s just say she wouldn’t be Robin for very long, if his experience with B’s rule was anything to go by.
He sighed internally. “Birdie, I told you I wouldn’t hurt you if you answered the question. That offer doesn’t stand if you refuse. Where is he?” He shook her a little for emphasis, instantly feeling her tense at the movement.
She continued to glare at him, searching his face for…something. “You can’t make me say it,” she said quietly. “You can’t. I won’t.”
“Birdie…” he started warningly.
“You know where he is!” Her tone was starting to take on desperation. “You know! I know you know so why– Jason why are you doing this?” She took a gasping breath and trailed into silence.
Jason paused, mind running. She knew his name. She- he hadn’t known her before- No. He hadn’t; he was sure. So how- And why was she speaking like that, like Replacement was…hurt. He couldn’t be, that’s why Jason had died in that costume, so no other kid would, but if Rep- Tim. His name was Tim. If Tim had- “ I don’t think I do know, actually,” he responded dangerously. “Enlighten me.”
He watched as a steeled determination set itself over Blondie’s glare. “Fine. You want me to say it? You want me to tell you where Robin 3 is?” She paused, obviously waiting for him to back out, to release her and remain in the dark. He wouldn’t. “He’s dead.” The words washed over Jason like a bucket of ice water in winter. “You killed him.”
What- No- He- He didn’t want the Replacement dead. He wouldn’t- He doesn’t remember- He wouldn’t have- No more dead Robins…
Steph slid down the wall from where she had been held up for the past five minutes and closed her eyes to catch her breath. Distantly, she heard someone hit a wall on the opposite side of the room. Jason, her mind supplied helpfully.
Jason scrambled away until his back hit the opposite wall, breaths coming in short gasps. He couldn’t have killed the Replacement. He wouldn’t have. He was just a kid. Just a stupid 15 year old. Oh god. That was how old Jason was when- Surely Jason would remember something like that. Surely he would know-But the green stole periods of time, and if the Rep- Tim. If Tim had come across him during that time…he didn’t want to think about what might have happened. But he had to think about it, because it had happened. Jason killed a kid. A hopeful, bright kid who just wanted to help. Who stole Jason’s family and legacy. Who was 15 years old, with a life and friends and family and oh god B- Jason couldn’t think about him either, but he’d made B lose another kid and-
Jason’s thoughts screeched to a stop when he recognized a slight touch on his knee. He opened his eyes–when had they closed? – to see Blondie, doing exaggerated timed breathing. He tried to breathe with her. He really did, but–
“Hey…Hey!” Blondie snapped a few times in front of him. “C’mon, breathe with me. You can do it. In, one- two- three- four…Hold one-two-three-four…Out one-two-three-four”
After a few rounds of breathing, Jason felt himself snap back into his body, and it was like a flip had been switched. He gently pushed away Blondie’s hand, which she had at some point placed over his chest, presumably to help him focus on breathing.
She looked at him warily.
He stared back, unable to hide the exhaustion in his eyes.
“Hey,” she said lightly, almost like she was afraid of him shattering. “You back with me?” He couldn’t place the tone in her voice. It sounded…anxious? Why would she be anxious for him? He killed her friend. Oh god he killed-
“Yeah,” he answered, stopping that train of thought at the station.
“Ok,” she replied distantly. That made sense. He did kill her--friend, he guessed? He actually didn’t know how she knew the Rep- Tim, but she had to have known him somehow. The kind of anger he’d seen from her doesn’t come from knowing vaguely about the death of a predecessor.
Steph kinda fucked up. She knew this. Tim would know it. The Red Hood- Jason Todd, Tim’s idol, Second and dead Robin- who had just hyperventilated at the thought of killing her best friend who Jason hated would certainly know it. She did feel bad. He hadn’t even hurt her on purpose. He broke Tim’s arm and shot Nightwing, the vindictive part of herself replied sulkily. Which was a fair point. Maybe they could agree to be even? She personally would rather be shot and have her arm broken than have someone wage psychological warfare against her, but then again, he may have been planning to do worse today so they could probably call it even.
“Ok,” she repeated, more steadily. Oh shit. How was one supposed to go about this? One is supposed to not tell a dead Robin that he unknowingly but purposefully killed another Robin, said an unhelpful voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Tim. “Um..” She tried again. Jason looked up at her, tear tracks visible on his face in the emergency light.
“Ok,” she said for the third time.
“You’ve said,” Jason replied hollowly with what Steph assumed was supposed to be sarcasm.
She let out a shaky laugh.
“Look,” Jason started. He sounded startlingly vulnerable. “I-Well, I’ll be going in just a second, but-” He hesitated. “I know it doesn’t mean anything. God, I know…” He trailed off. “I didn’t mean to,” he blurted. “I can’t- I don’t remember it. I wish I did. I never wanted him dead.” Jason looked up at her, new tears forming in his startlingly blue eyes. “I’m so sorry…I know that doesn’t help, but you deserved to hear it.”
Steph watched him get up, go grab his helmet, and throw one last look at her over his shoulder.
“Wait!” He turned and looked at her. “Just- Wait.” She sighed. “Please sit down, I have- Well I guess it’s a confession. But you need the whole story so you might as well… have a seat,” she finished lamely.
Jason hesitated for a moment, before cautiously starting towards the couch, moving around her in a wide arc, as if afraid his being too close would hurt her, and sitting perched on the very tip of the end of the couch furthest from her. It would be laughable if Steph hadn’t felt so guilty about accidentally sending him into a panic attack.
She rose from the floor and took her own seat towards the middle of the couch and took a breath.
Well, there’s only ever been one effective way to rip off a bandaid.
“You didn’t kill Tim,” she said. Jason’s head shot up from where he had been staring at the loose threads on the sofa. The look he gave her painfully hopefully, but also confused and guarded. “You didn’t kill Tim. He’s not dead, I just-” She paused and took another breath, cursing her inability to find the words. “Bruce wanted to send him to the Tower for the weekend to keep him out of Gotham and away from you, but we had already theorized that you might be, well, you, meaning you’d be able to get into the Tower if you really tried. Which, obviously, we were right so point: us.” Steph was rambling and she knew it. “And Tim already had a broken arm.” She sent him a real glare, not the slightly theatrical you killed my friend, how could you glare she had been using all night. “So there was no way I was going to let him come here and knowingly play right into your hands while injured. Well, even if he had been perfectly fine, I wouldn't have let him come alone regardless, but it helped me convince him to stay home. He was pretty adamant that he had to go because B had said that ‘Robin had to be at Titan’s Tower this weekend’, and he didn’t want to get benched. And there was a time a while back when Tim couldn’t be Robin so I took over and– that’s not important. The important part is that I had a suit and training and everything so…” She trailed off and hoped Hood would sort the rest out.
“So you went to the Tower instead and used his codes so it looked like he was here, and there was technically a Robin at the Tower so B’s directions had been followed,” Jason finished.
“Yeah,” Steph responded sheepishly.
“Ok, but that still doesn’t explain why you didn't just walk out the front door if you thought I was going to show and knew I hated Robin. That would have been considerably safer, right? It doesn’t log when people leave normally, like through doors and shit, only through zetas?” Jason looked skeptical.
Oh. That might have made more sense. Steph felt her face getting red. “We didn’t think about people leaving as an option,” she mumbled.
“What?” Jason asked.
“We didn’t think about people leaving the Tower after zeta-ing in as an option!” Steph repeated louder.
“You didn’t…” Jason sighed. Steph felt herself echoing the sentiment internally. “So, at what point in this little plan did the two of you decide to tell me I killed the newest Robin and didn't remember it?” Jason’s eyes were starting to glow again. Steph didn’t like that.
“That wasn’t a ‘we’ decision.” She sighed. “In fact, Tim told me specifically not to psychologically scar you.”
Jason blinked, confusion overtaking the mounting anger in his expression.
Steph breathed a little easier knowing Tim was out of the line of fire.
“Yeah…After I got here, I figured you would probably ask where Tim was because I wasn’t the Robin you expected to find, so I had to come up with a cover story. It couldn’t be the truth because then you would just jet off to wherever Tim is and reenact whatever grand fight you had planned for here.” She looked up in time to see Jason glance at the wall guiltily. "And that’s not what I wanted, so he had to be unreachable. I couldn’t say he was badly injured because you’d just wait until he was back in the field again, and still, not what I wanted. I couldn’t say he quit because (1) that wouldn’t stop you if you hated Tim Drake, not Robin and (2) it’s the message you’ve been sending the whole time, and I didn’t want you to think, even for a second, that it had worked.” Steph reminded herself to breathe. “So, death was the only option.” She looked up at him. He seemed not to dispute what she had already said, so she took that as a good sign.
“Why me?” he asked quietly, like he was afraid of the answer.
For the first time during the conversation, Stephanie felt truly guilty. Why him indeed.
“I could give you so many answers for that. Of course, the logical one is that if Tim had hypothetically died by anyone else’s hand, you’d hold it against Batman, which, fair. He shouldn’t put kids in costumes if he can’t keep them safe, but also, not who I wanted to direct your anger at.” She looked up, hoping for some indication that she could stop, that Hood didn’t need to hear this next part. He looked just as invested as she was afraid he was, so she reluctantly soldiered on.
“My personal reasons? I’ve got tons of those too. I guess the most obvious are Tim’s broken arm and ‘Wing’s bullet wound, not to mention B’s refusal to take care of himself unprompted and Alfred’s attempts to keep the family together despite it all.” She looked at him, with the look people normally said seared into their soul. She didn’t care. She needed him to understand this. “It had to be you because I knew it would make you think about what you were really doing. I wanted you to understand what you were doing to that family already, but to a lesser degree.” She looked up, hoping her eyes looked as apologetic as she felt. “It was vindictive and petty, but also pretty damn helpful for my causes. That’s why it was you.” She glanced downwards, her eyes catching on the loose threads in the couch and the uneven colors from assorted stains over the years. I think I helped cause that one, she thought idly about a purple paint stain.
Jason was…He didn’t know how he was doing. In his defense, that was a shit ton of information to drop all at once. He had apparently not killed the Re-Tim. He really had to start calling the kid Tim, since he was not going to maim him after all. And he couldn't maim him, he reminded the green. Remember how we felt when we thought we killed him? Yeah no. No more of that.
His family missed him. Did they? It had seemed like that was what she was saying but- It was just a lot. Compartmentalize, said a voice in his head (It sounded suspiciously like Dad Bruce Batman. Definitely compartmentalizing that. Jason filed it under ‘do not touch with a 35 ft pole’).
So. Compartmentalizing. He could do that. Back to the kids. They figured out who Jason was. Not really that surprising. Tim was supposed to be the smart one, after all, and working with that girl? He shuddered to think about what the two of them could accomplish if they decided to use their powers for evil. So they knew. Nothing he could do now. That was a later-Jason problem.
He didn’t kill Tim! That was great. He was elated. He was a little pissed that Blondie–he should really learn her name–lied to him, but she explained her reasoning, and he really couldn’t argue with it. Learn the new Birdie’s name. That was something he could do.
As for the rest of it… B’s refusal to take care of himself unprompted. Jason thought he remembered Tim telling him the beginning of this story a while back. If only he had thought to listen. Jason inwardly sighed. That too would have to be a later-Jason problem, as much as he hated it. All of that could be sorted through and dealt with when he wasn’t in the presence of a teenager who was clearly afraid of him deciding he was angry and shooting her. Not without reason, the moral part of his brain responded. You lightly considered it earlier. Only lightly, Jason told it.
“Hey, kid,” Jason tried.
She continued staring at the couch.
“Blondie,” Jason tried again.
Nothing. Jason sighed internally.
“Robin,” he tried, in the most Batman-like voice he could muster.
Blondie’s head snapped up, but she relaxed when she saw Jason.
“What?”
“What’s your name, kid?”
She eyed him warily. “Steph.”
“Ok Steph,” he paused trying to collect his thoughts into something comprehensible.
“I’m really sorry for sending you into a panic attack earlier,” Blondie–Steph blurted out. Jason tilted his head at her in confusion. “I’m really really sorry, and I swear if I had known that would happen I never would have said it.” Steph stared into his eyes like she was willing him to believe her. “I could have come up with a less PTSD-inducing cover, and I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, kid. I’ve had panic attacks over less.” Steph still looked slightly heartbroken. Jason floundered, trying to fix it more. He was slightly surprised by how much he cared, but he couldn’t deny that he did “There was no way for you to know it’d be that substantial of an issue for me. For all you knew, I hated the kid. Besides…” Jason hesitated. Was he really about to tell her this? Uncertain blue-green eyes stared back at him. Yes, yes he was. “for what I was planning to do to Robin 3…” Jason paused, internally shuddering. “Let’s just say if given the choice now of going through with that or a panic attack, I’d take a panic attack any day.” He looked back at her, expecting… He didn’t know what he was expecting. Condemnation? Hatred? Forgiveness?
She nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense. It is why we came up with the plan, after all.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Can you take the tower off lockdown?” Steph asked finally. “I need to tell Tim I’m ok before he sends in the cavalry.” She laughed and hoped it wasn’t as awkward as it felt.
Jason looked like he was seriously contemplating. Steph could see why he wore a helmet. Even if he didn’t look like a literal teenager, every single emotion he had reflected itself across his face in real time as it crossed his mind. It was like reading someone’s inner monologue, but in person.
“I don’t know that I can do that,” Jason landed on finally, looking away from her at the ground. “You’ll call them and then what? Just let me leave?” He laughed self-deprecatingly, some of his earlier arrogant condescension leaking back into his words. Now that the helmet and modulator were off though, Steph could see it for what it truly was: false bravado. A shield. “You don’t know that I’m not a danger anymore. And even if you think you know that, you were trained by a Bat-“ Steph opened her mouth to say that no, actually Tim had trained her— “even if not THE bat” he added, cutting off her protests. “Which means you can’t take that chance.” He considered her for a moment. “I don’t want to fight you,” he said, as if waiting for her to argue.
“Um— I’m glad?” Steph answered. She wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this, but she knew she didn’t like it.
“I don’t want to fight you, but I will. I am not going to Arkham. You can’t make me.” Steph flinched back in surprise, mouth open to respond that no, of course not–
“And you can’t leave me tied up for Batman to take care of because he’ll send me there. He will, Steph. I’m a danger to him and his kids, and he doesn’t leave dangers to his kids on the streets, even if he does leave them alive, and–”
“Jason!” His attention snapped to her, blue-green eyes wide with panic. She stood up and slowly, carefully moved towards his end of the couch before sitting next to him and cautiously holding his hand between both of hers.
“Jason, I don’t know where you got the idea that B will ever let you go anywhere near that place, let alone send you there, crime lord or not, but there is absolutely no way he would once he knows who you are.” He made a move to speak. Steph shushed him. “And even if by some twist of fate he decided to try, there’s no way ‘Wing or Alfred or hell, even Tim would go for that. And there’s no way I would either after knowing you.” She looked at him, waiting to make sure he was listening and comprehending before continuing. “Look, I get that everything I’ve said is a lot, and you might need time and space before talking to any of them again.” She paused for a moment to see if the mere mention of talking to them made Jason flinch. It didn’t, so she cautiously continued. “I’m not going to ask you to let me keep you here, or even to let me tell them who you are or that you were here, period. Other than Tim, of course. He’s going to know, obviously.” Jason’s eyes didn’t even glow at the mention of him that time. Good to know. “But I won’t tell anyone else. I promise. All I need from you is a promise that you’ll stop going after Robin, forever, no take backsies.” She looked at him hard to judge if she’d have to push more, but it didn’t seem like it. He looked almost guilty, which, from the little he had said about his “plans” for this interaction, was probably fair. However, he didn’t go through with any of them so she thought he should be a little less hard on himself.
“I— yeah. I didn’t—I wasn’t—” He took a deep breath. “Going after Robin wasn’t…on the table. Not after this.” Jason was looking at her like he was scared she was going to weigh his soul and decide it was heavier than a feather. She wasn’t. Steph smiled.
“Great. And I would also like you to stop shooting Nightwing.” Jason’s face twisted a little at that. “Not stop fighting with him completely like I expect you to for Robin, or even shooting at him, as long as you’re sure the bullets won’t hit him. If he fights you, obviously I’m not going to make you say you won’t fight back, but no bullets should make contact with him. And no lasting damage if it is at all avoidable.” She stared him down. Jason looked back at her with an almost equal amount of determination. He looked like he was trying to telepathically convince her that ‘sometimes Dick just deserved to be shot’. She didn’t entirely disagree, but she was pretty sure she and Jason would disagree on what exactly Dick deserved to be shot for. For Steph, it was innocuous things, like shadowing her on patrol or being just a little too nosy about her home life. The general protective big brother stuff. From what Dick had told them about his bullet wound, Jason thought he should be shot for walking down a particular street. Not the same, even a little bit. Steph wasn’t backing down.
“Fine. Whatever.”
“And I’d like you not to antagonize Bruce on purpose.” Jason stared at her flatly.
“Not happening.” She raised a disappointed eyebrow at him in her best impression of Alfred.
“No. I won’t hurt the new little bird. Fine. I’ll even agree not to fight with Dickwing as long as he doesn’t start it. Whatever! Batman deserves everything that comes to him, and I’m not going to stop because mY dEaTh MaDe HiM sAd. It should have. I was his fucking kid! I was his son and I was murdered and he did nothing. I mean, how many more people has the Joker killed since then? Because I promise you it’s more than it would have been if Batman had just—“ Jason’s eyes were wide and glowing green again, but Steph couldn’t detect all that much real anger in them. She could tell when someone was spiraling into a panic attack, and she wasn’t about to let Jason go through another on day one of meeting her.
“Jace,” Steph said softly.
“No, Steph. I need to say this. You need to get it! I was murdered by a psychopath who hasn’t stopped killing since he started, and Bruce did nothing. My Dad did nothing. He can’t be trusted to keep you safe. Any of you! He failed with me, and he’ll fail again. God knows how many times Dick almost died during his tenure as Robin, and I doubt it’s been any different for you and the newest bird, and I just— he can’t just—His actions have to have consequences!”
Jason stared into Steph’s eyes with a resolution she knew she wasn’t going to be able to shake in the time they had left before Tim would get anxious about the lockdown and come running to San Fransisco to save her. And maybe she didn’t want to convince him. He had made several compelling points, and Steph herself believed that sometimes, if it is the only way to ensure the safety of others, a person has to die. However, she knew both from what Tim had told her and (because she had been hella skeptical at first) from her own observations that killing would break Bruce. And with him, Batman would die. That meant that killing the Joker could not be a responsibility given to him, and honestly, Steph reflected, it wasn’t his responsibility to even be Batman. Everything he did for this city was more than he owed to it, so, especially if killing someone would kill him internally, he didn’t owe it to Gotham to kill the Joker. However, she could see how Jason would feel that he owed it to him. Regardless, Steph would take two out of three victories and go on her merry way, letting them sort out the morals of that mess together and later.
“Ok. So, that’s a definite no on playing nice with Batman. I can accept that. B’s an adult. He can handle himself.” Steph searched his face again, looking for what she could have missed between his Robin days and this.
Steph could tell she was missing something with their whole situation, but she didn’t particularly care about knowing what it was right now as long as he agreed to stop maiming her family mem friends.
Steph was quiet for a moment, and Jason couldn’t keep track of the flurry of emotions he saw running through her head, but he clearly saw when she shut them off and moved on.
“Awesomesauce. Now, if you’ll lift the lockdown, you're free to leave, and I guess I’ll see you around?” She said tentatively. She lost more steam the longer the sentence ran. Jason found himself smiling a little at her.
“Yeah, kid. I’ll see you around.” Jason had to admit he was a little surprised to just be allowed to leave after all that, but he wasn’t complaining.
He led the way to the control room, inputted the correct codes into the reset monitor, and watched as everything hummed back to life, barring the cameras which had to be turned on manually from the computer. The phone in the purple, glittery phone case on the desk started pinging incessantly.
“Well, that seems to be my cue, so if you don’t need anything else…” Jason started.
“Nope! Should be all set.” Steph grabbed her phone to start in on the cascade of notifications. Jason turned to walk to the zetas. “Oh! Jay,” she looked at him, clearing waiting for a response. He tilted his head at her. “One more thing. If Tim comes to find you, well…” Jason tensed. The rep– Tim should not be coming to find him. Under any circumstances. Ever. Steph stalled, seemingly looking for words. “Ok, well, for starters, if he does find you, maybe don’t mention that I told you any of this?” She paused, looking like she wanted some sort of confirmation from him. He liked the kid, but he wasn’t going to promise to keep a secret before he knew what it was. He waited for her to start back up on her own.
“But you need to know. You were his childhood hero. When he was little, he took pictures of Batman and Robin all night, pretty much every night, and not Dick Grayson-Robin, well not for long anyway, You-Robin. And his parents didn’t know ‘cause they were never home so no one stopped him. It’s how he figured out all of your secret identities at age nine, by the way, and– It’s a long story, and none of it’s mine to tell, but I figured you could use some of it in case you did cross paths and did or said something you regretted later after learning more about him. I also feel like you would need to know that stuff to get a baseline understanding of his actions in any of his interactions with you specifically. So yeah, long story short, if he does try and find you, don’t be surprised, and— please don’t be too hard on him. This is your official warning, I guess.”
Jason grit his teeth. That was even more to unpack, and he sure as hell wasn’t doing it here. “Thanks for the warning. Is that all now?” He tried not to sound too sarcastic, but from Steph’s badly contained giggle, he didn’t think he succeeded.
“Yep, that should be it.” Steph did a mock, two-fingered salute at him, and he took that as his cue to, first of course, salute back at her, and then make his way back to the zetas: back home.
Steph sighed and plopped back into her spinny chair to turn the Tower’s security cameras back on as Jason zeta’ed out of the Tower, presumably back to Gotham. All in all, not a bad run! Tim might actually kill her for inducing two panic attacks in his childhood hero, but Jason had agreed to cool it on fighting the birds, and if she was reading him right, eventually he and Batman could talk about their differences when it came to killing, the Joker specifically, and even if they couldn’t agree, Steph was confident that they would recognize that they missed each other. Maybe. Hopefully. She knew all bats were stubborn as hell when they chose to be, but she was cautiously optimistic about this. Sue her, it was hard being a realist all the time. She deserved a little optimism.