Chapter Text
Jason loved Halloween as a kid. Those few years he remembers spent with his mom were filled with smiles and friendly faces of neighbors who were usually quick to shut their doors when they saw the pair coming. There’s a photo in a box in his closet that shows him in a pumpkin costume on his very first Halloween. He’s barely two months old. But he looks smaller. His teeny little fists are closed over his face but he’s smiling. He’s propped up on his mother’s lap. She looks like she’s been run ragged. Like she hasn’t slept in days. Her hair is frizzy and her old band t-shirt is stained. Side-effects of taking care of a newborn all by yourself. But she looks leagues better than she had on the last Halloween they spent together.
Jason remembers that Halloween because it was the first one he can remember not trick or treating. Instead of going out with a plastic jack o’ lantern filled with candy, he dropped spare change he found on the ground into his bucket. He searched for distracted parents and slipped their wallets out of their back pockets. The sick feeling in his stomach wasn’t from gorging himself on sweet treats like it should have been. It was guilt.
But he kept going.
Mama needed the money.
Mama was sick.
Then a few months later, Mama was gone.
Two Halloweens later, and instead of raiding trash bins for leftovers and spare recyclable bottles, Jason was looting the Bristol mansions for king-sized candy bars. He returned to Wayne Manor with his sack filled with sugary treasure, more than he could ever eat himself.
So a new tradition began.
In Jason’s next few years he learned the joy of giving rather than getting. Instead of hoarding all those sweets to himself, he would end his patrol dispersing it amongst the less fortunate Gothamite kids. The Crime Alley kids appreciated that candy more than he ever could. And it gave Batman a much-needed PR boost in Jason’s old neighborhood.
But now, Jason helped out in a much more effective way.
The Red Hood leaned over the fire escape, arms crossed, watching the kids scurry about, shouting with glee, gripping their pillow cases full of candies. So far, the night had been relatively calm. He had to return a handful of far-too-eager kids to their anxious parents. He persuaded a couple of teens against vandalizing a corner store with their dollar-store spray paint. But there hadn't been any excessive rowdiness. No gang activities. No drunk drivers. Jason half expected to have to retrieve an old woman’s cat out of a tree.
Of course, it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan.
Jason smiled down at the street below him. Many of the costumes were unknown to him – a byproduct of the few years of pop culture lost to him due to his time MIA – but some were classics. The Mario Brothers, princesses, witches, ghosts, the works. And, of course, a large portion of the kids wore child-size versions of familiar suits. Black pointed-ear cowls with foam-padded muscles and a painted bat symbol on the front was the most common. A bunch of more smiley kids decided to don the scaly green short-shorts or the Man of Steel symbol.
Jason’s smirk tore into a wide grin as one passed by with a DIY Red Hood costume. He was about to go make that kid’s night when Jason felt a presence behind him.
There was the slightest move of the shadows. The faintest sound of a measured breath. A heavy boot moving across concrete.
Jason was about to reach for his gun, when he recognized the figure’s outline. He rolled his eyes as he turned to face his stalker.
“I know I stopped with the warning shots, but that doesn’t give you the right to just waltz into my sector like you own the place,” he growled.
Batman just grunted in return. Jason climbed onto the roof to look the man square in the face, fully ready to chew him out for trespassing, but he cut himself off.
Immediately, he knew something was wrong. Now standing on level ground, Jason could tell the proportions of the batsuit were off. The eyeline was at its usual evenness, but there was the slightest angle of the boots to indicate that a heel had been added to artificially manufacture that height. This Batman also had a few small differences in the exposed skin of his lower face. It was so minute that any civilian would never notice, but Jason had spent years with the Bat. He had studied him. And even after a two week-long trip to Bermuda the man hadn’t been able to shake his characteristic paleness. This Batman was tanner. His jaw smoother and unclenched.
Then, in a mere moment of contemplation, the realization dawned on Jason.
“Well, I guess everyone is wearing a costume tonight.”
The Batman hesitated, tightening his fists. “I don’t know what you’re–”
“Oh come off it, D. I know it’s you.”
Then, the hard surface melted away, and Batman was gone. Standing in his place was Jason’s big brother, Dick Grayson. His lips parted into his usual snow-white smile.
“How did’ya know it was me?”
“You’re about six inches short of a Batman, Big Bird,” Jason scoffed. “Nice heels, though.”
Dick lifted his foot off the ground, examining the extra height to his boots. “They’re platforms too, technically.” When he set his foot back down, it was accompanied by a heavy thunk, and Dick momentarily lost balance, waving his hands about theatrically. Jason saw straight through the act. He’d known Dick Grayson for the better part of a decade and never once has he seen the man off kilter himself for something as simple as heels.
His brother, ladies and gentleman, ever the performer, he mused.
“I have no idea how you and B stand it,” Dick continued. “I can barely manage a cartwheel in these things, and not to mention the noise.” Dick shifted back and forth between his feet, mocking Batman’s usual prowl, but on him it came out as more of a stilted waddle. “I feel like the damn Penguin. The fact that he manages to sneak up on anyone is beyond me.”
Jason, getting progressively more fed up with his brother’s clownery, crossed his arms over his chest. “You need to work on your distraction tactics, Bird Brain. Why are you here?”
Dick pressed his lips together in a tight toothless grin. “For the record, my distraction abilities are great. I am an amazing distraction.”
“Uh huh.” Jason rolled his eyes, allowing his head to swivel in an exaggerated motion so Dick could see how exasperated he was coming with the man’s antics.
“And second,” Dick said, “does a guy need a reason to visit his baby brother?”
“Baby?”
“It’s Halloween!” Dick continued, promptly ignoring Jason’s outcry. “The spookiest night of the year.” He punctuated this sentiment with the waggling of his fingers.
“And the most dangerous,” Jason growled. “Which is why I need to stay vigilant. Shouldn’t you be doing the same?”
“We’ve got more than enough eyes on the streets. Almost the whole team is on patrol.”
“Almost?”
“Well, uh… Nightwing is busy tonight.”
“Yeah alright,” Jason smirked. “What’s the old man up to tonight anyways, then?”
“He and Robin are on a very special mission and are only on call tonight.”
“Is this very special mission candy related?”
Dick smiled wide. “I helped him pick out his costume a few weeks ago and managed to snap some pics of them before they left.” Taking out his phone, Dick turned the screen around so Jason could see the photo of Damian – who was still toting a very dignified expression – dressed as a black cat, complete with painted-on whiskers, headband ears, and a little tail pinned to his waistband. In his hands he clutched a little bag covered in ghosts.
“Oh my god,” Jason chortled. “He’s adorable.”
“I know, right? And I even got B some ears to match,” Dick swiped and the next photo was Bruce with his arm around Damian, who were sharing forced smiles and cat ears.
Jason burst out laughing. “Promise me you’ll send these to Selina.”
“Oh, I already did,” Dick smirked and put his phone away.
After a moment, Jason’s smile faded away as a realization came to him. “Are they staying in Gotham?”
Dick hesitated, thinking it over. “I think so? I don’t know why they wouldn’t. Why?”
“This may be the first Halloween I’ve known the old man to stay in the city. I feel like he takes any excuse to scurry off and skip town.”
“Hm,” Dick pursed his lips. “I guess I never noticed.”
Jason paused, dissecting the odd tone in the other man’s voice. It was layered with something, but Jason couldn't tell exactly what. He moved closer to the edge, returning to his watch. Dick moved with him, but kept a respectful distance.
“But it’s fine, we’ve got a handle on Gotham tonight. Red Robin and Spoiler are partnering on the Old Gotham routes while Batgirl and–”
Dick’s ramblings filtered to the back of his mind as Jason spotted a green and purple blur disappear into an alley. Though it was impossible to make out exactly what it was, Jay caught just enough for his suspicions to be piqued. Something about it made his hackles rise up. Maybe the color scheme…
His legs were moving before he had time to think.
“Hood?” Dick called after him. Jason paid him no mind in pursuit of his target. “What is it?”
Jason jumped onto the fire escape and fired his grapple, shooting across the street and over onto the neighboring building. Hunched over in the corner was a lanky man dressed in a purple suit. His spiky head of hair was a shock of sickening green.
Rage flooded through him as Jason leapt off the balcony and landed heavy behind the man. A small, rational part of him knew he should observe the situation before engaging. But a larger, greener part of him was demanding for blood.
The guy squeaked and flinched, turning around while still crouched. His face was painted white in a crude imitation of the madman.
Jason clenched his teeth, letting out a guttural sound. Laughter surfaced in his memories. Green clouded his vision.
Jason descended on the man, snatching him back the collar and lifting him off the ground. Jason reared his other hand back and landed a punch square across the imposter’s face. The man crumpled to the ground like a rag doll, pressing his palms to the bruise.
“Shit, my nose,” the guy gasped out, trying to stop the blood from dripping. “You broke my fucking nose.”
Leaning down to grab him by his lapel and shoved him up against the wall. “And I’m gonna break a hell of a lot more if you don’t start talking, asshole.” Jason’s fingers trailed down to his holster, removing his handgun. He pressed the muzzle right underneath his chin. “Who do you work for?”
The guy whimpered, eyes wide and staring down at the gun. “Wh-what the hell are you talking about?”
Suddenly a hand tugged back on his forearm.
“Hood,” a voice bellowed, “let him go,”
Jason turned to see Batman’s cowl right over his shoulder. His grip loosened slightly.
“He’s not a grunt, he doesn't work for the Clown.”
Jason’s mind short-circuited. “What?”
“Put the gun down, Hood,” Batman urged. “Breathe.”
At the command, Jason found himself taking a long inhale and letting it out slow. After a few more the green was beginning to subside. The echoes of laughter faded away until the situation seemed much clearer.
Huffing, Jason holstered the gun, but kept a hand on the guy’s jacket. He wanted to speak, but his brain felt like it was working in slow motion, like the gears were moving through molasses.
Dick took a step back, releasing his grip on his elbow. “Look,” he said, stepping over to where the guy had been crouched on the ground. Propped up against the wall was a phone. When Dick picked it up and turned it over, it was open to the camera app. Dick scrolled into the man’s camera roll to find the most recent footage. A video began playing, displaying the faux-Clown smiling wickedly.
“Hey Prank Nation, this week we’re trying out the viral Villain Dupe Prank, and what better night than Halloween? Let’s see how many suckers we can find this week as we–”
Then there’s a clunk and an emerging shadow just before the video cuts out.
“He’s just a stupid civilian, Hood. He doesn’t work for him.”
Jason clenched his jaw. Then, in a flash of movement, he shoved the man up against the wall, a hand gripped around his throat.
“Hood, let him go,” Dick bellowed, voice still pitched down to Batman’s rumbling bass.
“You think this is funny?” Jason growled at the guy, squeezing tighter around his neck. “You fucking bastard.”
The man choked, sputtering out something indecipherable.
Then Dick yanked him backwards, away from the streamer. “Hood, stop,” he snapped. He pushed himself between the Red Hood and the costumed clown, pressing an open palm against Jason to keep him at bay.
“You’re protecting this piece of shit?” Jason snarled. “You think he’s worth your pity?”
“I think he’s an idiot, Hood,” Dick barked back, “but he’s not a criminal. He made a mistake.”
“A mistake? Playing off the trauma of countless victims, making light of the innumerable deaths that the Clown has caused, of all the suffering that people have endured, that I–” Jason’s voice broke off. He ground his teeth together.
Dick lowered his hand, frowning at his brother. “I know. But he’s not the one who caused that. Just because he made this stupid decision to rack up views doesn’t mean he has to pay for all that damage. Especially not with his life. You know that, Hood. And I know that you know that.”
Jason tightened his fists, taking measured breaths. “Fucking… fine.”
“What the hell is wrong with you two?”
Jason and Dick looked down to the collapsed form of the man below them, still pressing against his bloodied nose, an incredulous expression on his face.
Dick smirked. “You’re not from Gotham, are you?”
“Fuck no,” the guy spat out.
“Good,” Jason scowled. “Then this is going to be a hell of a lot easier for you.” He hitched the man back onto his feet, and brushed off his jacket. “You’re going to get the fuck out of my city. And if I ever see your sorry ass again, I’m going to carve you open like a damn jack o' lantern. Got it?”
The man swallowed and nodded. “Y– yeah.”
“Perfect.” He turned the guy towards the mouth of the alley, and shoved him. The guy scurried away as fast as his legs could take him.
When Jason turned back to Dick, his brother had a hand pressed to the part of the cowl covering his ear.
“Mmhmm,” he mumbled. “Yeah, East and Bloomington, got it. Be there in ten.” He took his hand away and looked back at Jason. “That was Oracle.”
Jason let out a heavy sigh. “What now?”
“She just got word of a robbery at Gotham Trust. There appears to only be one perp, but with the way they evaded security cams and the guards, they’re either highly trained or a meta.”
“Damn,” Jason grunted. “Tonight just gets better and better.”
Dick barked out a laugh. It was a little unnerving to see it coming from Batman. “Anyone ever tell you that sarcasm doesn’t read through your voice modulator?”
Jason considered it. “Huh, maybe that’s why my new guys always act like Amelia Bedelia.”
Taking out their grappling guns, the two began their pursuit. Jason followed just a few feet behind Dick, letting him lead the way, with Babs’ in-comm guidance, of course.
About mid-way through their flight, Dick spoke suddenly.
“Joker’s still in Arkham, by the way.”
Jason almost tripped off the edge of the building. “What?”
“The Joker,” Dick repeated, “he’s still locked up tight. I just had O check the security cams again. There’s been no suspicious activity from him in months.”
“Okay,” Jason huffed. “And you’re saying this why exactly?”
“I don’t know, you seemed kinda shaken earlier.”
“I wasn’t shaken,” Jason protested.
“I know, I know, but… still. I thought you’d want to know.”
Jason tightened his grip on his grapple. “You wouldn’t have to check up on him if the old man hadn’t stood in my way.”
Dick cut his line, stopping his pursuit. “That’s not fair, Jay.”
“Not fair? You want to talk about fair?”
“You know both me and B beat that piece of shit within an inch of his life, it wasn’t for lack of trying.”
“And what good did your trying do? Huh, Dickie?” Jason spat out at him, venom leeching from his tone. “He gets to live out his days with three square meals, round-the-clock security, and a warm bed to sleep in every night. That’s more than half of Gotham can say.”
Dick pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “How many times are we going to go through this, Jay? How many times will you force a gun into Bruce’s hands before you realise Batman. Won’t. Kill.”
“I never needed Batman,” Jason shouted. He clamped his jaw shut, then swallowed. “I…” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I needed my Dad.”
The words were so soft it was barely audible.
“Jason, I didn’t mean–”
“Forget it,” Jason sighed, snapping away Dick’s outstretched hand. “Let’s just find this damn perp.” He launched his grapple and swung off the rooftop.
The rest of their pursuit was made in record time and complete silence. Usually, one would go after the thief while the other worked with the aftermath at the scene of the crime, but with so much unknown about the abilities of their target, Dick and Jason decided to play it safe and head out together. Especially with so many civilians out on the streets, they needed a quick and seamless capture. But Jason had a deep, sinking feeling that that was not what they were in for.
Eventually they caught up with the robber. Luckily, she had been moving extremely slow. She had taken refuge on the alleyway behind a series of storefronts, hiding between the dumpsters. The large weighty sack she was lugging dragged across the ground behind her.
Taking a closer look at their suspect, she appeared to be on the younger side, couldn’t be more than seventeen. Her ginger hair was pulled back into a long braid cascading down her back. She wore a matching set of black athleisure wear and sneakers.
“Hey kid,” Jason shouted from the rooftop, “put down the money and put your hands up.”
The girl startled, dropping the bag and causing its contents to spill. Jason jumped down to her level as he watched coins cascade across the dingy alley floor. Seeing her lost loot, the girl dropped to her knees, grabbing handfuls of coins and pouring them back into the sack.
“Pro tip: it might’ve been easier to carry bills.”
She shot him a deathly glare. “It’s not about the money, douchebag.”
“Ouch, that hurts,” Jason said, placing a hand over his heart with faux hurt. “But imma still need you to put your hands up. You’re coming with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she griped. “And you need to stay back!”
Jason scoffed. “Or what?”
“Or…or…” The girl dug through the sack, looking for something.
“Hood,” a tinny mechanical voice sounded through the communicator in his helmet. “Be careful, remember she has an unknown threat level.”
“Relax, she seems harmless,” Hood replied.
“Harmless?” the girl looked back up to Hood, offended. “I am Presto Change-o!” She stood up, putting her fists on her hips. “And you better stay back!”
After a moment, and realizing she was not joking, Jason threw his head back and erupted in boisterous laughter. Behind him, Dick descended silently.
“We don’t mean to make fun,” Dick said. “But that money belongs to the Gotham Trust Bank, and we are going to turn you over to the proper authorities.”
The girl scrunched up her nose in frustration. “Batman,” she said in her best attempt at a growl. “I was waiting for you to show up.”
“Wait, you know Batman but not me?”
Ignoring Hood, the girl looked down to her clenched fist. She then opened it, revealing a handful of spare change. As she spoke, she counted out each coin. “Penny and nickel, nickel and dime,” She raised her eyes, looking to Dick. “You’re at the right place, but not the right time.”
On her last word, she threw the coins at Dick. An instinct raised itself in Jason. As soon as those coins left her palm, he was stepping in between her and Dick, shielding him for whatever attack was planned.
But the coins never made contact. Instead, they skidded to a stop on the concrete between his feet.
Jason smirked. “You missed.”
The girl furrowed her brows. “I wasn’t aiming for you, jackass.”
Then, in a flash of light, the coins puffed into a thick funnel of smoke.
“Rebreathers,” Dick said quickly, but it was no use. They were already coughing on the dark cloud. Jason doubled over, the strength leaving his body.
After a few moments the smoke cleared. Jason turned over to sit up and leaned against his hands.
“Ugh,” Jason hacked out. He scanned the alleyway. The girl was nowhere to be seen. “Fucking damnit.”
“She can’t be far,” Dick heaved. He extended his hand and pulled Jason up onto his feet. “Let’s split up and scan the area, I’ll call in Oracle to see if she can get us any eyes on Presto Change-o.”
“Are we really calling her that?”
Dick smirked. “Yes, unless you’ve got any better ideas.” He pressed two fingers to his comm link. “O, we lost the suspect. Any word on which way she’s headed?”
After a moment, Dick tore his fingers away and frowned.
“What’s the word?”
Dick pressed his lips together in a downturned smile. “I’m not getting any reading.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s no signal. Whatever Change-o did to us must’ve cut off my communications. Are you getting anything?”
Jason quickly dialed into his communicator, and but there was nothing there. He shook his head.
Dick grunted wordlessly in a very Batman manner. “Shit, well I guess we’re on our own for now.” He turned around, inspecting their surroundings. “I’ll go up, you go down?”
“Uh, sure. Sounds great.”
“Great,” Dick said, sounding distinctly not great. “Meet back here in a half hour.”
With that, he shot off his grapple and disappeared over the neighboring building. Jason, however, stayed grounded. There was something off. He had a gut feeling they were missing something.
Jason took a step back, scrutinizing the graffiti on the dumpsters. The tags looked different than before. But he wasn’t exactly sure. Jason shook off the uneasy feeling and took to the skies.
A half hour later, Jason had yet to actually shake off his uneasiness. He was not as familiar with this side of Gotham, but he could have sworn that there had been a new apartment building constructed in this area a few years back. And a couple he had saved from a mugging on his rounds had just screamed and ran when they saw him. Not that he expected them to sing their praises to him, but most Gothamites were fairly used to vigilantes at this point. Maybe they were simply out-of-towners.
But there were too many coincidences to ignore.
Dick landed hard on the roof next to him. “Hey,” he groaned. “I’m assuming you’ve come up empty too?”
“Yeah,” Jason scoffed. “What gave it away?”
“Maybe the fact that I saw you pace around this rooftop twenty times before I landed.”
Jason barked out a laugh. But his amusement was quickly drained at the reminder of their predicament.
“There’s something wrong, D. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s been something off since that smoke shit.”
“I feel it, too. And the fact we haven’t been able to make contact with anyone has been making me really uneasy.”
“Yeah,” Jason leaned against his propped up leg on the rooftop edge. He watched the last few kids in costume run around, candy in hand. Taking a harder look at their outfits, Jason realized he recognized a lot more characters than before. All the references seemed to be from old shows from his childhood, none of the newer characters the kids were growing up with today. But the same core characters still made an appearance. Spongebob, vampires, ninjas, wizards, the like. But something else caught Jason’s eye.
An idea was slowly forming in his mind, but he needed a closer look. Jason jumped down to the street level, peaking out of the alley’s mouth.
“Jason?” Dick called out, following him. “What’s wrong?”
“Look at the kids’ costumes.”
Dick paused for a moment, but he clearly was not following Jason’s thought process. “What about them?”
“You don’t see anything abnormal?”
“Uhh… no, not really? They all look like regular costumes to me.”
Jason took Dick by the shoulder, bringing him in close.
“No one is dressed as Batman.”
After a second, Dick pursed his lips. The pair turned to look back out at the kids running around, and there were costumes of all colors, shapes, and sizes, but no one was donning any of the iconic capes.
No Batmans.
No Robins.
No Batgirls, no Supermans, no Flashes, no nothing.
“Holy shit, you’re right,” Dick gaped.
“I know I’m right, Dickhead, but what does it mean? You think it’s an alternate reality type thing? Maybe we’re in a dimension with no heroes?”
“Maybe…” Dick glanced over to the wall outside of the bodega. “Shit. Jason, look.”
Jason followed his line of sight to the blue and white campaign posters all advertising a political candidate for the small local elections happening this year. But as soon as Jason read the poster, his jaw fell open.
“No fucking way.”
The posters were for a presidential election. The 2004 presidential election, to be exact. Jason bolted into the store, grabbing a newspaper and reading the date.
October 31st, 2004.