Chapter Text
When Nightwing and Batman arrive back at the Batcave after a successful patrol, the last thing they expect is Robin in the medbay, and Jason's memorial desecrated. Tim Drake is hooked to a variety of medical implements, looking that he survived hours of torture. His face is almost unrecognizable — swollen and bruised — and there's already blood seeping through his tidily wrapped bandages. The steady beep from the heart rate monitor is the only indication that he's okay in the slightest.
There is a mosaic of shattered glass where the memorial was supposed to sit. Whatever was left of Jason's singed and bloodied Robin uniform is almost nonexistent — shredded into a pile that sits on top of the glass.
Nightwing takes the time to check over Tim, while Batman immediately goes to the Batcomputer to check the security footage. Red Hood comes into frame at the entrance to the Cave, cradling the beaten body of Robin, and Bruce holds his breath involuntarily. The crime lord makes short work of the security protocols, and Batman uses the cameras to follow the changing scenery.Hood carries Tim across the Batcave and into the medbay. He sets the younger boy down with a gentleness that Bruce didn't know he was still capable of.
When Red Hood removes the helmet, there is a choked gasp from behind Batman — far too close than it should be. He turns to see Nightwing standing there, bandages in his hands. The first Robin is staring at the security footage like he's seen a ghost, and Batman curses himself for forgetting Dick was still in the Cave.
"Jason…" It's heart wrenching and far too familiar for the murderer on the screen.
"That's not our Jason, Nightwing," Batman replies, more gruff than he had intended. "He's… different."
Dick isn't listening to him, eyes still locked onto the security footage where Hood is moving around the medbay, tending to Tim's injuries. Bruce tries to reason with his eldest son, but is cut off.
"What happened to his neck?"
On the screen, Jason has turned to set up the IV drip, revealing the side of his neck to the camera. Bruce sees what Dick was referring to — a large scar starting barely off-center of Hood's larynx and continuing across the carotid artery. If Hood wasn't walking around, he would have called it a fatal injury. Whatever weapon the injury is from must have been meticulously maintained for such a clean and precise cut.
Bruce deduces that the attacker must have been very skilled to get so close to Hood's neck. Either that, or the crime lord made the mistake of trusting someone. Although, with how paranoid he had been since coming back to Gotham, Batman highly doubted the former Robin would be so careless. In fact, for all of the work he and Nightwing had done tracking Hood on his arrival to Gotham, the only time he had ever seen him without the helmet on was during their confrontation with the Jok—
Apparently satisfied with the level medical care provided to Tim, Hood finally grabs his helmet and starts to leave the Batcave. The helmet his halfway onto his head, when his steps pause. He backtracks until he is standing in front of the memorial.
Batman and Nightwing watch as the crime lord's gloved hand reaches out to touch the plaque. A Good Soldier. The helmet Hood never put on again falls to the floor, the sound of it echoing through the Cave being caught on video. He looks far too young here — far too much like Jason — for comfort. The same fingers that brushed over the plaque reach up, almost absentmindedly to trace the scar on Hood's neck.
That's not what I meant, Bruce finds himself wanting to explain. It wasn't ever supposed to be meant like that.
Hood uses both hands to pry the plaque off the display — clawing at the fasteners. When he is successful, he starts using it to beat the glass holding the Robin suit. It breaks in two before the glass does, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, continuing until the glass shatters. The suit falls, and Hood continues until the only thing left are fabric scraps, glass shards, and splintered metal and wood.
The crime lord retrieves his helmet, and Bruce uses the footage to follow him out of the Cave. He can follow the red helmet and motorcycle all the way back to Gotham proper, before it disappears. No amount of searching on the other cameras can find Hood, and Bruce is once again faced with the knowledge that he will never be good enough to save Jason.
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Nightwing is in apparent shock, still glancing between where the medbay where Tim is and what remains of Jason's memorial. Soon the shock will wear off and he will demand answers from Bruce. Answers that Bruce will have to admit that he doesn't have, and he knows that he needs to figure out how Tim was even injured when he was still benched. It was the entire reason Nightwing was in town patrolling with Batman instead of Robin.
Security footage in the Batcave shows that shortly after Batman and Nightwing left on patrol, Tim had snuck down to the Cave to look through something on the Batcomputer before putting on his Robin suit. It doesn't take the World's Greatest Detective to put the clues together — Tim found a case to work on and didn't tell any of them he was going out because he would have been told no. Bruce really should have known better. Nothing good ever came from benching his Robins. Dick had left for Bludhaven, Jason had died, and Tim… Tim might have died too if not for Red Hood.
It's not easy to follow Tim through Gotham, but still possible. Neither Dick nor Tim have the same ability that Jason does to just disappear into Gotham. For how much he calls Gotham his city, even Bruce has to admit that he's not as familiar with it as Jason. Poring over maps and patrolling at night has nothing on the knowledge required to survive on the streets for years.
Eventually he loses Robin on the street cameras and switches to the feed from the Robin suit. The younger vigilante is doing recon on what appears to be an average warehouse. There are a few people coming in and out of the main door — enough to be suspicious — but nothing to indicate that it's more than standard gang activity.
He agrees with Robin's decision to slip into the warehouse from one of the windows on the upper floor, although less so with the way he creeps down to the main floor. For how much activity Robin witnessed, the warehouse is concerningly empty. In what feels like the fraction of a second, Bruce hears the Joker's laugh, and Robin's camera cuts out.
That's not—
The Joker is supposed to be in Arkham. Bruce put the clown there himself after— Bruce put the clown there himself. Batman was supposed to be alerted to any suspicious activity around Arkham, especially about the Joker; he's supposed to be alerted about any escapees or breakouts. He needs to get to Arkham and find out the truth. He needs to make sure Jason's nowhere near that psychopath. He needs—
He turns to leave, and Nightwing is in front of him already, his face set with barely contained rage.
"The Red Hood is Jason." It's more accusatory than it is a question, and Bruce finds himself helpless to do anything but nod. Apparently it's the right answer, because Nightwing moves on. "And the Joker is out? He did that to Tim?"
Bruce can't confirm or deny the statement, but that is what all of the evidence is pointing to.
"Does… does he know Jason is the Red Hood?"
He desperately wants to say no. Wants to live in a world where he didn't listen to his son beg to be free from his nightmare and Bruce couldn't give it to him. In a world where a miracle happened in front of him, and he threw a Bataran—
"Yes," is what he says instead. "The Joker knows."
"Then we have to go find him. Bruce, we have to—"
"We have to verify that the Joker is actually out of Arkham, Nightwing. Running headfirst into the situation without understanding everything is dangerous. It's how—"
It's how Batman ended up dragging a cackling Joker out of an exploding building instead of his son.
In the end, they formulate a plan — Nightwing will check Arkham, Batman will look for Red Hood.
"Bruce." Dick's voice is full of emotion but still leaves no room for argument. "Do not fuck this up."
"I— I won't."
Liar, a traitorous voice whispers. You already have.
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By the time they find the Joker, he's already dead, and Red Hood is nowhere to be seen.
The rogue was left in the smouldering ruins of an empty warehouse. A bloodied crowbar was next to him, the clown's body clearly showing signs of the beating. Although the official autopsy will confirm the blunt force trauma — along with signs of smoke inhalation — the official cause of death is blood loss. There's a slit across Joker's throat, starting near the center and wrapping around one of the sides. It is nearly identical to the one they saw on Jason in the footage.
Neither of them will have time to question it, because when they arrive home, the damning cowl footage will be displayed on every monitor in the Batcave.
Jason, too young and too desperate, the Joker laughing, the Batarang leaving Batman's hand.
No longer in the heat of the moment, Bruce can see the exact moment it hits Red Hood's exposed throat.
Nightwing turns on him almost immediately, the same rage present that he used to beat the Joker to death when Tim was taken the first time. Something he sees must stop him, and Bruce uses that breath to plead his case.
"I didn't know." His voice is almost as weak as the excuse. "I thought— I didn't— I aimed— My son."
Dick leaves to sit with Tim, but he goes without the fight that Bruce nearly certain would happen. He's not sure if it's actually a courtesy when it means that he's left alone with the batarang in question sitting on the Batcomputer's desk. One side will test positive for Jason's blood; the other for Joker's.
There's a note included with it — the address and a time. It's not the kind of place Batman can go to; he'll have to show up as Bruce. A search reveals that the address is for a cafe at the very edge of Crime Alley.
Bruce arrives after the Joker's death is announced. The streets are full of celebrations. Business have been closed to give their employees time off, and the ones that remain open hand out goods for free. There is a lightness hanging over Gotham that Bruce can't remember ever feeling before, not even when Batman first started patrolling the streets.
Red Hood — no, Jason — is waiting for him already. He looks more relaxed than Bruce has ever seen him — even while he was living in Wayne Manor — and with his t-shirt and jeans, he looks like any other cafe patron his age. To an outside observer, they could be any regular father and son getting coffee. Bruce so desperately wishes that was true.