Work Text:
Jason walked into the house.
No, it wasn’t quite a house. It was a mansion.
He stood in the entrance hall, thoughts driving around his head as if in a race to see which one could make him crack first. He took the postcard out of his pocket. On it, a photograph of a crowbar.
No. The crowbar.
Under the red hood, Jason’s eyes flashed white as he recalled that fateful day.
“Joker me this, Red Man,” said the Joker, inside of Jason Todd’s memory. “What’s red, and hood, and red all over?”
Jason was breathing heavily and heartily – but barely – as he already knew the answer. It was him. He was red, and hood, and red all over. But he couldn’t speak. His face was covered in blood, redder than his red hood.
“I’ll tell you, Jason ‘Redhood’ Todd. It’s you.”
The Joker brought his hand back, crowbar in hand, ready to hand it to him. Except by “hand it to him”, he actually meant ‘bludgeon him to death with this crowbar he had’.
“Joker, NO!” cried Memory Bruce Wayne from the corner of the room. But it was too late.
As the crowbar killed him, Jason only had one thought in his head hood. He didn’t feel malice for his friend the Joker. That was to be expected of him. No. He felt betrayed by the crowbar. It was his childhood crowbar which he had used to rob people in his youth.
The irony, that someone so dear to him could make him so dead...
Redhood snapped back to reality as the memory ended, abruptly, because he had died.
In the present, he reminded himself how lucky he was to have been revived in magic water a while ago.
Lucky, that is, because he could now seek revenge.
Batman’s parents weren’t home at this hour. They usually weren’t home at all, in fact.
Jason never quite figured out why.He made his way downstairs to the bat-sment. That’s what his sometimes-father-figure,
sometimes-mortal-enemy Bruce “Batman” Wayne called his basement. It was a character quirk.
He ran his hand along the Batmobile.
“The Batmobile,” Jason said to the Batmobile. “The very Batmobile that Batman uses to
fight crime in Gotham city.”
The Batmobile didn’t respond, but if it could have... it would have.
Jason ran his hand along the Batmobile, tenderly, pausing at various points on the Batmobile to take in the tactile sensation of touching the Batmobile. The bonnet. The mirrors. The windows. The antenna. The tyres. Jason had never had a Batmobile of his own. Until, that is, right now.
Jason punched the window of the seductive black vehicle, shattering it instantly. Some of the glass fractured off, ripping his sleeves and revealing the enormous, really really big muscles underneath. “You and me are gonna go on a little adventure.”
Jason Jasoned into the Batmobile and keyed the ignition. Where did he get the key, you ask? I’ll never tell. As the Batmobile flared to life, the radio turned itself on.
“Jason!” came the familiar voice of the Dark Knight (Batman).
“What do you want, old man? Can’t you see I’m robbing you here?”
“You can’t do this Jason. I can’t... lose you again. Not after you got killed the last time.
Thank god for that magic water that revived you.”
(“Thank god,” Jason said, or at least he WOULD have said had he not caught himself about to agree with Batman on something. So, cool-ly, he didn’t say it.)
Batman begins: “Don’t do it. Don’t go to the Joker for revenge. It will only cause you more pain.”
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” Jason said, wrongly.
“That may be true,” Batman replied, “but I do know one thing. If you go on this mission, you won’t make any of those wrongs right again.”
Jason turned off the radio. From within the Batmobile, a robot arm emerged and turned it back on again.
“It will destroy you! The magic water doesn’t work twice, Jason!”
Jason turned off the radio using his gun by shooting it. From within the Batmobile, a large megaphone appeared, and Batman continued to speak.
“Son, I’m telling you to turn back!” Jason jumped out of the car, did a triple spin kick and hurled the megaphone into the sun. All he heard from the crackling airwaves as it exploded was...
“It’s not... worth... it--”
But it was over. The Batmobile was his. Jason drove off into the night.
Jason “the Red Hood” Todd cruised down the main street of Gotham City at top speed.
His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that it was awesome.
“Damn this draft,” said Jason, cursing the open window that he punched in the last
scene.
“ENEMY DETECTED,” said the Batmobile. “WATCH OUT FOR--”
Up in the sky, Nightwing attacked. It was, after all, night, and he did in fact have wings.
Nightwing used his signature attack on the Batmobile from above.
“Damnit,” Jason said, asexually. He swerved the Batmobile to avoid Nightwin’s signature attack, narrowly missing an old lady crossing the road (in Gotham City at night, what a mistake). “This doesn’t involve you! We don’t need to make it a big deal!”
“But it’s already a big deal,” said Dickothy Grayson, AKA Nightwing. “You have offended
me on this night PERSONALLY. Tonight is MY night to steal the Batmobile, remember?”
Jason remembered.
Yesterday... at a donut shop in Gotham.
“Hey, you mind if I steal the Batmobile on Wednesday?” said Dick Grayson.
“Oh, yeah, I don’t think I’ve got anything on that day,” said Jason Todd, not at all checking his calendar to verify the truth of what he just said.
“Cool,” said Dick.
“MAN I SURE LOVE DONUTS” said Police Commissioner Gordan.
Flashback over
Jason finished remembering. But it didn’t matter. The past is in the past, and anyway, he had a saying he always lived by. It’s better to blow someone up, than apologise.
EVER.
Jason pressed the large green button on the steering wheel that said “Cruise Control”. This will allow the car to drive for me while I have a fight scene, Jason thought, smartly.
Jason did a triple backflip out of the driver’s seat to land on the roof of the car somehow.
He turned to face his friend.... no.... his BROTHER, Nightwink.
But Jason had fought Nightwing countless times before. He did the mental calculus: he could pull out his gun and shoot Nightwing, but Nightwing would move out of the way.
Instead, he could THROW his gun at Nightwing, but Nightwing would move out of the way. He thought about pulling a Batarang out of the Batmobile and throwing that at
Nightwing, but he could see in his mind’s eye that Nightwing would just move out of the way.
Jason’s brilliant autistic mind cycled through tens, hundreds, no, thousands of possibilities, most of them involving throwing things at Nightwing and having Nightwing move out of the way. His brother was a master tactician, after all. And he had wings.
Man, how do you fight a guy with wings?
But then, Jason “Under the Red Hood” Toddathan had his genius move.
“I surrender!” said Jason.
“What?????????” said Dick Grayson. “Just like that? I was looking forward to beating you into the dirt. I don’t believe you’d do this. This is just some part of your master plan to defeat me, Nightwing, Winger of Nights.”
“That’s not true,” said Jason, lying. But little did Nightwing realise, he was actually lying.
“My Red Hood. It’s too dirty. I can’t see out of it. Jason removed his Redhood, revealing a face of pain and anguish underneath. He tossed it into the sky to Nightwing. And Nightwing caught it.
“It looks pretty clean to me?” said Nightwing.
“Nah, put it on, you’ll see it’s dirty.”
“No way.”
“Yeah, there’s dirt right there where the eyeholes are. Why else would I take off my signature Red Hood?” said Red Hood.
And then Nightwing made his fatal mistake. He put on the mask and Redhood pressed the blow-up-the-mask button, blowing up Dick Grayson right in the face.
Nightwing plummeted like a hundred feet straight down onto the road. Jason went up to the corpse.
“He’s still alive,” said Jason, tears forming at the edges of his eyes. And I’m glad, he thought to himself, definitely not out loud. Because even though he did all that to me,
he’s still my brother. Jason triple-backflipped back into the Batmobile and revved it up, taking off down the road... straight to the Joker.
Behind him, Nightwing lifted his head up.
“Heh. So I guess THAT was what was Under the Red Hood this whole time,” he whispered to nobody. “My brother.”
Jason slowed down as he approached the driveway. Surely this is it, he thought. He checked the address on his Nokia flip phone just to be safe.
1 Joker Drive, North Jokopia, Gotham.
This was it, alright. Everyone in Gotham knows the Joker’s home address. But something wasn’t quite right.
Redhood got out of the Batmobile by climbing into the back seat and breaking one of the windows. He didn’t have to. But he did it. Because that’s what heroes do. But something wasn’t quite right.
That’s when he figured it out. The entire Court of Owls was gathered in Joker’s front yard.
That’s right. Every. Single. Owl.
Redhood wasn’t afraid. He never gets afraid. Nope. Nuh uh. He approached the entire Court of Owls and boldly declared:
“It’s over, entire Court of Owls. I’m here.”
“Who?” said the entire Court of Owls in unison, because they’re owls.
“Me. Jason Todd. Redhood. The one who runs all the drug trade in Gotham but refuses to sell to children because drugs are bad, stay in school kids.”
It was at this point the entire Court of Owls drew their weapons, and for the first time in his entire life, Redhood thought that there was a chance he would lose. It wasn’t because there were so many of them – it was because he didn’t feel comfortable killing an owl like that.
“What’s this? A moment of weakness from Jason?”
Jason Redhood knew that voice. But why here? Why now?
“Tim?”
Tim Drake descended from the sky, performing a perfect three-point superhero landing.
But he was no superhero. No. He was Tim Drake.
Redhood looked up at the helicopter in the sky and waved to Alfred as he flew away.
“I heard word from Dad that you were looking to pick a fight tonight, Jason.”
“Oh, so we call him ‘Dad’ now?”
“I don’t know,” said Tim, as the two of them looked directly into the camera. “But I do know this. Not even you can defeat the entire Court of Owls on your own.”
“Who?” said the entire Court of Owls in unison, because they’re owls.
“Damnit, you’re right,” Jason lamented.
“But with a trusted companion by your side... you can’t possibly lose, now can you?” said Tim, Drakily. “Let me help.”
“You? Help me? But why?”
“Let’s just say... you’ll owe me a favour. Don’t worry about it.” Tim took his classic about-to-start-fighting pose. Redhood joined him, vaguely wondering what this supposed ‘favour’ would be.*
The entire Court of Owls stood up in unison, weapons drawn, as the Robins-in-arms
Jason Todd and Tim Drake readied themselves, side-by-side, for the fight of their lives.
Eyes narrowed. Grips tightened. The air grew so cold and so quiet that you could have almost heard the beating of Jason’s red heart under his red jacket.
And then Jason and Tim did some really cool acrobatic combat stuff and beat all of the Court of Owls woohoo.
Breathing heavily, beaten, bloodied, but victorious, Jason and Tim found themselves
surrounded by the unconscious bodies of the entire Court of Owls.
“Heh. Thanks. But I reckon I could have got them myself,” said Jason.
“No way in hell. Urgh!” Tim was injured. One of the Owls had used their talons to tear
into Tim’s chest, exposing his chiselled physique for all to see.
“Tim!” exclamation marked Redhood.
“I’ll... I’ll be okay. It’s up to you now.”
“What?”
“Show him... show him everything you’ve learned. Show him... your revenge.”
“Who?” said the entire Court of Owls in unison. Then they went unconscious again.
“That clown. Make him pay...” Tim collapsed into Jason’s arms. “For both of us.”
Then Tim took a nice nap and Redhood carried him to the Batmobile to sleep it off.
“The Joker!”
Redhood kicked down the door to Joker’s affordable two-bedroom condo.
“Well well! If it isn’t the Redhood Robin. Why don’t we call you Red Robin for short then, huh?” It was the Joker who said this.
“Enough games, Joker. I’m here to settle this, once and for all.”
“Au contraire, little bird!” Then Joker’s tone shifted dramatically. “It’s cards night. I’m just about to play cards with the entire Court of Owls and they haven’t arrived yet. I’m really... riled up...
“And do you know what happens when I get... riled up?”
Redhood flinched. I mean, no he didn’t nuh uh.
“Oh, so you do remember.” Joker pressed one of his Joker buttons. A strange pink gas descended from the ceiling and began to fill the room.
Redhood knew. This was naptime gas. And there’s only enough room for ONE Robin taking a nap in this story.
“Alright then, Joker. I’ll play your little game.”
“You’ll play me in Texas hold ‘em?” Joker was surprised, but intrigued.
“Yes,” said Redhood, as lightning flashed behind him and for one frame he was angry instead of smiling.
“Very good then!” Joker started to cackle his classic Joker laugh. He snapped his fingers,
and the pink gas began diligently retreating to the vent in the ceiling whence it came.
“Then the stakes will be... your life.”
Redhood sat at the large poker table that had been in this room the whole time, and the Joker took his seat opposite. This would be the game of his life.
“I’m all in,” said Redhood.“What? I haven’t even dealt you your cards yet. We haven’t discussed the rules, established the antes... are you crazy?”
“Maybe I’m bluffing, maybe I’m not. Are you gonna call me?”
The Joker was determined not to be out Joked. “Nah, nah...” he began. “But I’ll raise you.” Joker placed a gun down onto the table. “I’ll raise you... your life.”
“Deal.”
With a sudden crash, the door to Joker’s house was kicked down. The second door in his house. The one next to the door Redhood kicked down.
“JASON!” It was his father.
“Jason!” said Clone of Bruce Wayne, who was also there.
“ ...Bruce? Bruce, stay out of this!”
“I can’t do that, Jason,” said Batman.
“I can’t do that, Jason,” said Clone of Bruce Wayne.
“You really need to stop repeating everything I say immediately after I say it, it’s getting old,” Batman said as an aside to Clone of Bruce Wayne.
“Ok,” came the reply, and Clone of Bruce Wayne left this tale for good.
“If you lose this game of cards, you lose your life. I... I can’t have that happen again,”
Bruce Wayned. He pulled out one of those batarangs.
“If you interfere with this, I’ll kill someone. Just, like, a guy. I promise.”
Batman hesitated. Killing people wasn’t cool, and if he interfered, Jason said he’d kill someone. So he decided not to throw that batarang. Probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, he thought. Jason Todd is just too good at being Redhood.
“Now, where were we?” Jason turned back to his frienemy, the Joker.
“We draw!” said the Joker, with an insane glow in his eyes. “And see who fate favours to be worthy of ruling Gotham!”
Jason drew his hand. The Joker drew his. And then...
“I have a pair of Jokers!” said the Joker. A pair of Jokers WAS the best hand in the game.
There was no way Redhood was getting out of this. At the edge of the room, Bruce
Batman let out a short, sharp breath, as if it was he who had just been killed, and not his darling boy Jason.
“I have a pair of Redhoods,” said Jason fucking Todd, revealing that he had a pair of
Redhoods in his hand.“What? WHAT??? Impossible!” cried the Joker. But it was too late. Everyone knows that a pair of Redhoods is the best hand in poker.
A swift backhand from Jason brought the Joker to his knees. “Now show me.”
“Wh- wh- whatever do you want to see?” The Joker’s voice was quivering, as flames erupted around the room. Clearly Joker had left the stove on.
“The crowbar,” Jason whispered, carelessly.
“That old thing? Heh. Check behind the painting.”
Jason threw the Joker to the ground and walked over to the end of the room. On the wall hung a painting of a crowbar. Jason hurled the painting into the fire. There was a safe.
“And the passcode?”
“It’s your birthday.”
Jason smiled, and punched in the code. There it was. Still stained with his own blood.
The weapon that had killed him.
“I’ve waited for this for so long.” Jason took the crowbar in his hands and walked over to the Joker.
“Hey, now. We’re all friends here, aren’t we? Batsy?”
Batman nodded furiously, tears in his eyes, his cheeky all pouty.
Jason raised the crowbar behind his head, ready to end it all. The Joker squeeze-closed his eyes.
Then he turned away, and pulled out his phone.
Click.
A harsh, metallic crash sounded as the crowbar hit the floor. Behind him, the Joker slowly opened one of his eyes as the other remained tightly shut.
“Hey. Hey, where are you going?! Things were just getting good!” Joker’s confidence had returned, it seemed.
But Redhood had left the building. He was back in the Batmobile, driving his eepy brother Tim Drake back to Wayne Manor.
Soon, he was tucking him into bed and kissing him on the forehead.
Soon, he was parking the absolutely-totalled Batmobile back in the bat-sment garage.
Soon, he was back in his own home, cosied up by the fire, reading Redhood fan-fiction and eating smores. Jason Todd opened up his phone and took another look at the selfie he’d taken. Him,
smiling confidently, the Joker, cowering in fear behind him. That stupid, metal rod in his hand.
Finally, he thought to himself. One with the crowbar.