Chapter Text
I’m not known for being a sap. Guys who like comic books aren’t usually considered sappy. They’re mostly considered annoying, if anything. Sure, I can be annoying. Who isn’t, these days?
Here’s the thing. I like Jason Todd. I know that’s probably surprising. After all, at first, I hated Jason Todd. I hated how dark and brooding he was, the twist that a Robin—a Robin!—turned into a Batman villain. Robin should be lighthearted and fun and snappy and witty. Jason… wasn’t. This wasn’t Jason Todd, I thought. This was just some new guy.
Well, I like Jason Todd now. You know why? It’s every comic book fan’s dream to make an impact. Make the flimsy, retconny universe of comic books the way you want it to be. I didn’t want Jason to die. I didn’t like that Jason died. But with him back, I have a bit of control over something. This was because of me. Jason lives now because of me. I did this. Even though I’m just a character now, even though I’m not real anymore, even though the reboots undid so many things… Jason lives because of me.
I did that.
Everything Jason does now, every time they mention him on forums or in shops, every issue he sells, every poll he wins. That’s all because of me. I made Jason Todd.
Sure, I would prefer it if he wasn’t the perfect example of how shitty grimdark comic books can get nowadays. And he can’t even keep a consistent team, nor a good haircut. But I still like the dude. I still like Jason Todd.
Frankly, talk about vigilantes on the TVTropes forums should probably be banned. And as it turns out, it is. Jason approves. Tropes aren't about real life, not usually, anyway, so the conversations should be kept strictly about fictional vigilantes.
And they do!
Until they don't.
Jason is lurking, as per usual, until he sees a long, long, conversation spilling out from a squabble of users about the latest comic book about some vigilante who's probably based on Batman anyway. Everyone on the forum seemed to be fiercely debating against one singular guy.
Jason scrolls all the way back up to the top, because he’s curious and he has time on his hands. Okay. What the hell happened here? Did a character die or something?
He's not expecting much from user PRIMETIME69, after all. Who the hell is?
Turns out, user PRIMETIME69 (who joined 4 years ago, relationship status is “Every breath you take, every move you make, I've been watching you”, and forum signature is “Punching through YOUR reality this next issue!”) is adamant that this vigilante character, named Bloodstreak, was totally justified and in the complete right for killing his enemies, the lackeys of the supervillain Freakazoid.
Um. Okay.
Jason hasn't read a single issue of this Bloodstreak character, nor does he really read comic books at all. Not his style. But PRIMETIME69 (dumb fucking name by the way) is absolute, stone cold serious that Bloodstreak's character was “NOT ruined by this, and he's NOT suddenly a villain protagonist, and most of all, he's COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED!!!1!”
Jason snorts. What year is this? Any second I'm gonna start seeing leetspeak.
However, late in the thread, PRIMETIME69 throws him off hard.
PRIMETIME69: well, RED HOOD killed people and hes justified too. Suck my NUTS. All of you
Punching through YOUR reality this next issue!
Sure, that’s shocking enough. But then Jason keeps reading, and…
tuesdaygarfield: ↑ Oh, there it is. I was wondering when your Red Hood Ball Gargling nonsense was gonna show up again.
Whoever invented Mondays needs to be dragged out into the street and shot.
BigDickJerryJohnson: ↑↑ BIGGEST RED HOOD DICK RIDER ON THIS SIDE OF THE MILKY WAY
bibbliibillio: ↑↑↑ ohhh my god dude. how many times do we gotta tell you. RED HOOD. IS NOT. GONNA FUCK YOU. CHRIST
Is it a bird? A plane? Or are you just excited to see me?
LibertyMan: ↑↑↑↑ Please don’t lock the thread again. Real life people and their actions aren’t allowed to be debated over. This conversation is about Bloodstreak and Bloodstreak content only!!
pingpongdingdong: We can behave, promise. Besides, Bloodstreak is a lot like Red Hood if you think about it, starting with his color scheme. Red and black is probably your first indicator that he was going to go bad and start killing people anyway.
regulation pigeon
Melaniums: ↑↑ Pause is this a recurring thing?? Is this guy just going around defending Red Hood??? Cause I’ve been to Gotham and the guy is a fucking irredeemable psychopath.
Okay, seriously, how many times has he heard that one? And most Gothamites who have seen him have at least thanked him with fear in their shiny eyes. Maybe not most. In any case, definitely a tourist.
bibbliibillio: you have no fucking idea. he’s been doing this for YEARS. im surprised he can even see his god damn screen with red hood’s balls tickling his chin
Is it a bird? A plane? Or are you just excited to see me?
Jason immediately exits the forum thread before he can even see whatever PRIMETIME69 has to say about that. Unfortunately, his curiosity is now piqued, and, well… You can’t blame him. Seriously.
Eyes stretched wide, way too wide and screen too bright for this early in the morning, Jason goes over to the forum page and looks up Red Hood.
Every post.
Every single post from the very first to the last of him being mentioned are all because, in some way, of PRIMETIME69.
“What the fuck,” he says, out loud, because he needs that vocalized. “What the actual fuck.”
He doesn’t tell anybody, because who would he tell? Why would that come up? How would he even go about explaining it? Hey, did you know that on this random website where losers chat about their special interests, there’s some guy who is so obsessed with me that he’s infamous for it?
Instead of worrying about that, Jason pays attention to other, more important things. Through various grapevines and general understanding of the current state of the world, he finds out that Superman disappeared post crazy world ending tournament and some new guy took his place.
Great.
Whatever. Not his problem.
It becomes his problem. Really, at this point, he should know better. God probably decided at some point that he hates him on a personal level, or Jason’s actually a DeviantArt OC who’s the reincarnation of Lucifer, and this is his punishment. One of those.
Jason is about to properly start his patrol when he hears a strange noise. Well, “strange noise” is a bit of an understatement. He hears the deafening crash of something large careening into the pavement of Gotham at mach speeds, about 20 feet away from him.
Once the dust clears a bit, Jason hesitantly approaches the crater, hand on his holster. As he gets closer, he hears small groans of pain and mumbling.
He stands at the edge of the crater, where the pavement is crumbling, and leans over to spot a lot of red, blue, and armor. And a huge S.
“You good?”
Superboy-Prime’s gaze snaps to Jason and he blinks rapidly, gaping like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He pushes himself up slightly with his hands. “J-” he coughs, “R-Red Hood? The Red Hood?” he asks breathlessly.
Jason scans him. Beyond messy hair, a ripped suit, and slightly dented armor, he doesn’t look all too damaged. Kryptonians. Sheesh.
“You know me?” Jason asks, pulling his hand away from his holster and squatting down, peering at Prime’s baffled face.
“Uh, I know everybody,” Prime says, brushing a hand through his hair, schooling his face into a self-assured expression that Jason’s seen online a lot these past two weeks. “And I’m fine. Knowing you and being indestructible are just part of my schtick.”
“Yeah,” Jason says, nodding. “I’m aware. The crazy one.”
“Whoa, rude. And you’re one to talk!” Prime pushes himself up to sit criss-cross-applesauce. “By most definitions, you’re crazy, and I’m just misunderstood.”
Jason, to his surprise, finds that a little funny. “So, Superman, what brings you here?”
Prime rolls his eyes, and the action is so casual that Jason feels as if he’s known him for a lot longer than just the last two minutes. Prime points up at the sky. “General Zod expy.”
Jason raises his brows. “Yeah?”
Prime sighs. “I’m telling you, Zod is, like, a C-tier Superman rogue at best. He’s the last guy the writers need to copy. He’s been in way too many movies for someone so boring.”
A part of Jason feels disconcerted and jarred at Prime talking about a guy who’s trapped in Superman’s Special Last Resort Eternity Prison like he’s an unpopular character, but most of Jason finds it a little funny.
“Well, shouldn’t you go deal with it? Last time we had a Zod, he tried to colonize Earth, and believe it or not, I would consider myself to hold anti-colonist views.”
“Whaaat, really? No way.” Prime grins. “But fine, I can't very well ignore the pleas of a hapless citizen!” He jumps to his feet and dusts his arms off, then his legs. “Alright.” He flexes an arm, and Jason actually grins at that. Then, in a false, deeper voice, “I won’t forget your kindness, Red Hood! I will repay it some day, just you wait!”
“Looking forward to it. Have fun, misunderstood Superman expy.”
Prime lets out a startled laugh, then looks at Jason with a smile more genuine than before, and flies off.
Jason watches, standing up straight as Prime becomes a blue-red-silver blur looping wildly in the distance.
He heard Prime was supposed to be annoying, and he looked annoying, all flexed biceps and smug grins. Jason had prepared himself for that.
So why the hell did he find him endearing?
After sleeping on it, Jason decides that the new Superman, who seems nothing more than smarmy smiles and lame insults, knowing the term expy made Jason immediately charmed.
What a dumb reason.
In any case, he meets him again relatively quickly. In a few short weeks, Jason is “blessed” with his appearance.
Prime, this time, does not come careening down from the sky. Instead, he shows up tapping at Jason’s window, when the moon is bright and the streets are, for once, quiet.
Jason, mask secure over his face, waltzes over and flips open the window.
“Is it normal for Superman to know where I live, or should I be calling Justice League HR to complain about a stalker?” Jason asks.
Prime frowns, well, no, he pouts. “You always mess up my intros. I was going to say, we finally meet, you know, Superman, Red Hood, hi, and yet you always screw it up.”
“You say Superman and Red Hood as if that’s a duo that has existed… ever.” Jason raises a brow. “And we already met, remember? You literally crash landed into my life.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that! Romantic.” Prime chuckles. “But… kinda lame. Anyway, I said I’d return your kindness, remember?”
“I don’t recall there being any kindness to return.”
Prime smiles, almost shyly, and shrugs. “Of course you don’t. But, it was there, so I want to repay you.”
Jason, seriously, has no clue what Prime is talking about. He did less than the bare minimum, he made sure the invulnerable Kryptonian wearing shoulder armor wasn’t too injured. With that being said, he’s never been one to kick a gift horse in the balls, or however the saying goes, so he rolls a shoulder.
“You take requests?”