Chapter Text
Batman had officially retired.
Well, that fact was only known about them, or those within the family. But to everyone else, and the city itself, Batman has just…disappeared. Rumored had it that he got killed off by some unknown villain (despite the notoriety that the title of ‘Killing The Batman’ might offer, surprisingly, none from the criminal underworld took credit), others believed that Batman was just ‘chilling’ in some city or helping in some other worldly matters.
But all of them – the city and practically the whole world – holds the hope that Batman may someday return.
Even if he had disappeared, the criminals never stopped…well, doing crimes.
So it fell on them to guard the city. They divided the city into sectors that the four of them patrols regularly. They switch in random intervals as to surprise the criminals, but they’re always in patrol. Nightwing also has to disappear sometimes, but Oracle covers him perfectly when he’s not around.
Anyway, the story started in Jason’s corner of the city.
Jason’s favorite corner, to be perfectly honest.
Why do you ask? Because it involves Narrows. And for Jason, all the exciting parts come in the Narrows. It’s considered the most dangerous city in Gotham, because of how rampantly the criminals roam the roads. There’s little GCPD patrols in the area because even the police are afraid of getting ambushed by the hundreds of gangs that are crammed inside this corner.
So yes, Jason’s favorite corner involves straightening up petty gang fights and making sure that the innocent doesn’t get in the way of the harm. Usually, Jason just watched whenever gang or gang violence happened. It’s not like he had the manpower to stop all gang wars. He’s not that narcissistic (despite what others like to say against him) to believe that he could bring perfect peace to this dangerous corner. Hence, he only really intervenes if the violence spills over to those who aren’t involved in the first place.
He made sure that casualties would remain zero.
And now…that data is being threatened.
He saw a man dressed in a fine clothing turned over at the corner, entering another gang’s territory…and boy oh boy, are there some gang members waiting at the corner. Predictably, they rounded up against the man, pointing knife at him, asking him for money that he obviously had.
Jason couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Hopefully, the man was just a drunk who got lost walking towards his apartment, because if that man deliberately and stupidly went into the bad corner of the city just so-? Jason would probably intervene a minute too late just to see what the man would do, just enough to teach the guy a lesson.
But then the city light flashed into the man’s face—
And recognition dawn on him.
Subsequently, at the same time the gang members also recognized who the man they’re about to rob.
“Fuck—”
Jason hurriedly placed his protective and signature red helmet over his head and rushed towards the alleyway corner.
Fucking—
The man pulled up his hands, seemingly afraid (is he pretending?) of the knife that was being brandish against his face. He looked around, hoping to see some exit but finding none.
Jason was so near—he jumped another building, and then he was over the edge—
“Please—I have no money—I don’t even know—” the man sounded closed to hypervalent in panic and Jason confusion doubled. He cocked his head on the side, looking intently to the man’s expression and his mannerism.
It seems so…genuine.
What the fuck—
The moment he saw the knife being angled for an attack and the man actually not seeing or doing anything to avoid it, Jason jumped into action.
He jumped down from the building he was perched in and jumped on the criminal’s hand, breaking it and forcing the guy to fall on his knees, letting go of the knife upon impact. Jason then turned towards his father—
“What are you doing?” he whispered aggressively to Bruce’s side.
His father merely looked at him in awe. “I—”
And then the other criminal moved—
And Jason saw how his father flinched.
A protective streak he didn’t even know he had burst in his chest. He moved in the line of attack and deflected the criminal’s attack, pushing him with great force towards the wall. He then turned towards the other two and quickly fought them. He punched and kicked the criminals in the right spot enough to immobilize the last of them.
And when the criminals were all groaning on the ground in pain, the threat being fully neutralized, did Jason turn towards Bruce.
He stared at him, hard and long. “Are you…” and then he made some hand movements.
Bruce looked slightly concerned.
Jason sighed. “Are you being serious right now? You wouldn’t even defend yourself? What would you’ve done had I not been here?” and then with a flash of light, an idea formed in his head, “Was that it? Had this been a test?”
But Bruce still looked at him as if he’s speaking entirely in Latin.
Jason groaned. He looked around the area, eyes scanning for any sign of Tim or Damian, or any sign of a camera that was set up. Because surely this was a prank? Surely this is Tim getting them back as payment for they did with his coffee.
But then…he saw nothing. And fear began to chill down his bones.
“You really don’t know…” he whispered in horror.
Bruce looked sheepish, embarrassed even. “I…tend to skip all my physical classes in Uni,” he said, as if that answer everything.
Jason was very thankful for his helmet; else everyone would have seen how his jaw dropped and how much he resembled a grasping fish at this moment.
And then one of the criminals started to regain back his strength, he was still crouching on his knees, but he glared over at Bruce, “Why would a billionaire—” he began, spitting out the word as if its bile on his mouth, “—know how to fight anyway? These cunts are born with silver spoon in their moth. He probably even calls the principal to deal with his bullies in Uni!” he then proceeded to laugh, his other ‘friends’ joining in on the joke.
Jason saw how Bruce melted under their bullying. He bowed down his head in shame, hiding his face over his shadow.
And that pissed Jason so much. No one gets to insult his father but him.
Plus, he’s pissed because everything is confusing him right now. And never in his life did he imagine that he’ll see his father project an emotion other than anger, sadness, and casual satisfaction. Shame? When did the Bruce Wayne ever feel shame?
He sighed, he knew what to do. “Fine.”
He then turned towards the criminals and swiftly rendered them all unconscious. To make matters worse, he chained them up together in the side. He called over to the GCPD to take care of these lot. Maybe a few days in the jail would teach them some manners.
He turned towards Bruce and pulled him towards his motorbike. He handed him one of his spare helmets, “Hop on, I’ll take you back to the Manor. Alfred will check up on you.” It felt so weird giving orders to father and not the other way around.
And it felt even weirder to see his father complying.
Bruce looked confusingly towards the helmet that Jason handed to him, before seemingly making a decision. After a few seconds of contemplation, he looked towards Jason and gave him a warm smile.
“Uhm…thank you, Mr. Hood.”
Jason dropped his keys.
Bruce then looked as if he was struck, he suddenly looked embarrassed and unsure of himself. “Not that I—I mean, I just want to know—uhm…how do you know Alfred?” and then as if realizing how awful it might have sounded, he backtracked, “not that I meant you don’t have a right to know him or anything,” he continued to blabber. He looked so nervous, like a man seeing his ‘hero’ in flesh.
Jason couldn’t handle this stupid nonsense anymore. He took off his helmet (he still has his black eye mask on) and stared straight into Bruce. He caught both of his father’s shoulders and asked point blank, “You seriously don’t know me?”
Bruce still looked at him like a child mesmerized by what he’s seeing. He blinked once—
Jason’s chest filled with hope—
But then his father opened his mouth and answered with such kind and soft tone, “You’re Red Hood. One of the Gotham Knights.”
Gotham Knights? Jason mouthed the words. What the actual fuck?
He sighed. This is getting so tiring even for him. His father is obliviously more stubborn than the four of them combined so there’s literally nothing he could do to change his mind, if he had indeed chosen to be part of Tim’s scheming. Seriously, a person put some salt to someone’s coffee and then they decided to fuck you up by using your father, of all people.
He went over to his motorcycle and started the engine. “Come on,” he said, not looking back. He’s obviously still annoyed by his father, but he’s not going to leave him behind in the city. Call him paranoid, but after all the ‘stupid’ things that his father had gotten into in such a short span of time? He’s not taking any chances.
Bruce looked like he hesitated for a second, before putting his helmet and hopping onto his back, his hands holding into the back of the motor.
Seriously?! Jason screamed in his head. He thought of some more profanities aimed at his scheming brother and equally scheming father before dragging his father’s hands over to his waist. “You’ll fall off,” he said.
Bruce nodded. “Uh—thanks.”
And then they were off.