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Dick woke up to a call from Bruce’s personal number at five in the morning. “What?” he snapped. Sue him, he was tired.
“The Red Hood was killed last night.”
A moment passed while Dick tried to parse what Batman had just said. The words all made sense, but he couldn’t get them to string together. “What?”
“There was a shootout between his gang and Black Mask’s,” Batman said, no inflection. “I haven’t tracked down—"
Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Dick sat up. “Bruce, are you telling me that Jason is dead?”
A beat. “Yes.”
Dick found himself blinking rapidly. “No. I don’t believe you.”
“I saw the crime scene,” Batman said. “Two DNA tests came back positive. No trace of supernatural or extraterrestrial elements.”
No. “No.”
A beat. “They’ve moved his body to the morgue by now.”
“It isn’t—"
“Dick.”
Dick paused.
“Don’t go see it.”
--
A chunk of Jason’s head was gone. Both his lifeless eyes still stared at the ceiling.
Nightwing wasn’t sure how long he stood there. The next thing he knew, Batman was holding his forearm like he’d deflected a punch. “I told you not to come,” he growled.
“Let go of me!” Nightwing hissed.
Batman let go.
Nightwing ran.
--
Within a week, Black Mask’s entire organization was dismantled. Sionis himself was hospitalized and awaiting trial. And Batman had a name.
David Cain had claimed the bounty on the Red Hood.
Cass was in the wind, hunting down her father. As far as Dick knew, she had promised to kill him if he ever committed another murder. He wasn’t sure if Bruce could stop her. He wasn’t sure if Bruce wanted to.
--
“Dick.”
It was Barbara. Dick didn’t turn around.
“Stop ignoring me.”
“Go away.”
“I need to tell you something.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“It’s about Jason.”
Dick stopped in his tracks and whirled around. Barbara’s jaw was set, her gaze steely. “Don’t talk to me about Jason.”
Barbara hesitated, which was unlike her. “I think he hired David Cain.”
A beat. Why was everything so hard to understand lately? “What?”
“I dug into his aliases,” she said. “He cancelled all of his leases the day before. As far as I can tell, he drained his accounts.”
Dick shook his head. It was pounding dully. “No,” he said. “You’re wrong.”
“I’ll send you what I’ve found,” she said. “I’m sorry, Dick.”
--
Dick followed the super up the stairs. “I’ve shown this unit to a few people already,” he said. “For consideration, you’ll need to fill out—”
Dick tuned him out as he let him into the apartment. A narrow hall opened onto a combined living room and kitchen, and a narrow staircase on one side led to a loft over the front door. On the far wall, three frosted floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the room in soft light. There was no TV, only a couch, a coffee table, and a bookshelf. Only one chair at the table.
Jason hadn't expected company.
“It’s furnished?” Dick asked, forcing surprise.
“Yeah, we’re going to get all this stuff out,” the super said. “The last tenant left all their stuff when they broke the lease. Just haven’t—”
Without looking, Dick reached into a pocket and handed the super five thousand dollars. “I believe that covers the expedited background check.”
The super was quiet for a moment. “Did you want me to clear out the furniture?”
Dick shook his head. “No. I’ll pick up the key when I head out, okay?”
The super paused, like he wasn’t sure how to take a bribe. “Sure thing. Okay. I’ll just… leave you here. Have a nice day, Mr. Grayson.”
Dick smiled tightly and counted to sixty after the door closed. Then he got to work.
Nothing was hidden in the books, a motley collection of paperbacks. Nothing was taped under the furniture, or hidden under the floorboards.
Finally, a couple hours later, Dick collapsed on the comfortable couch. The chenille smelled faintly of cigarettes and lavender.
The apartment was spotless. Dick had moved into enough apartments to know that it was far cleaner than a super would care, especially if he hadn’t gotten rid of the furniture yet. There were no dried puddles on the bottom of the fridge. No dust in the vents. No half-empty jar of peanut butter in the cabinets. Jason had left the apartment pristine on purpose.
No note, either, but still.
He hadn’t planned on coming back here.
--
Nightwing dropped to the ground next to his target. “Paola Jimenez.”
She whirled around, smoothly pulling out a wicked-looking switchblade. Distantly he wondered if Jason had taught her how to wield it. “I don’t talk to vigilantes,” she hissed.
“But you did,” Nightwing said. “You’ve been a member of Red Hood’s gang for six months now, isn’t that right?”
“Hood wasn’t a vigilante,” she said. “Hood hated vigilantes.”
Nightwing leaned against the alley wall, hands folded behind his back. “There’s a new Red Hood now, right?”
Paola held her knife in front of her. Hard to tell without testing it, but Nightwing was still certain it was one of Jason’s, diamond-edged and able to cut through his suit like butter. Part of him wanted to let her do whatever she wanted to him. It wasn’t like he'd never done that before. “I told you I don’t talk to vigilantes.”
“Please,” Nightwing said. “I’m just trying to find out what happened.”
“I ain’t a snitch.”
“Please.” Nightwing let out a breath and something broke inside him. “He was my brother.”
Paola’s eyes narrowed. “Bullshit.”
“He was,” Nightwing said, closing his eyes, his throat tight. “Did he ever take you to get chili dogs from that place on the pier? Those were his favorites. And that—”
“Bullshit!” Paola shouted.
He took a step toward her. “We think someone tipped David Cain off,” he said. “Someone within your organization, who knew he would have his helmet off. If someone stood to gain—"
She shoved him, and he let her. “None of us would have done anything to him,” she said. “We loved him. He cared about us, okay? And he could do something about it. He saved a lot of our lives.”
“I’m sorry.”
Paola’s face crumpled, and she looked away. But if everyone in the gang was as loyal as Paola believed, that only left one person who could have tipped off David Cain.
“Was he….” Nightwing stopped. “Did he act differently in the days before he died?”
Paola’s eyes went wide. “No,” she breathed – not like she was denying it, but like she understood where the question led.
“So, it’s true.”
“No.”
“He gave away all his stuff, didn’t he?” Nightwing asked. “He made sure you all knew what the plan was if he died? You’ve had a very smooth transition to the new Hood. No infighting that anyone has seen.”
“Shut up,” Paola said. “Just shut up! He wouldn’t do that, okay?”
“I think he did.”
Paola pressed a hand to her forehead, and her shoulders started shaking. She didn’t reach out for comfort, and Nightwing didn’t offer it. He didn’t have any to give.
She pulled herself together quickly. “What are you still doing here?”
“You know the Oracle hotline?” he asked. “If you learn anything else, let me know.”
“Why should I do that?”
He paused, throat aching. “Because I loved him, too.”
Despite her tear-streaked face, Paola’s glare could have pinned him to the wall. “If you loved him so much, why didn’t you come looking for him until after he died? That’s all you can do, isn’t it? He always said the bats always waited to do anything until the problem couldn’t be fixed.”
Nightwing looked away. “I thought we had more time.”
He’d thought Jason would come back to them, eventually. He’d thought he’d soften. And he had been softening. It had been months since he’d killed anyone – months since they’d had an altercation. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit he hadn’t even thought about Jason. With everything else he had going on, it just hadn’t occurred to him that less aggression might have been a warning sign.
“If he was your brother,” she said, “you should have been there for him.”
“Trust me,” he said, firing his grapple. “I know.”
--
“Where are we going?” Damian grumbled.
“We’re almost there,” Dick said.
He pulled the car into the cemetery and parked. “Come on,” he said when Damian made no move to get out.
He followed Dick with an uncharacteristic slouch. “Why are we here?”
“To pay our respects.”
They stood in silence for a few moments in the chill autumn air. Bruce had never replaced Jason’s headstone after Jason had vandalized it. Maybe he figured Jason would simply keep destroying them. “Here Lies Jason Todd” had been scratched until it was nearly illegible. Dick tried not to wonder if there was still a coffin beneath the grass.
“His body isn’t even here,” Damian said.
It never would be, either. Bruce had no claim to it. Jason’s remains would remain at the morgue until the deadline passed, at which point he would be cremated and buried in the pauper’s field. “He should have been your brother,” Dick said. “I wish you could have known him.”
“You’re always saying brothers aren’t supposed to try to kill each other,” Damian muttered darkly.
“I know.”
“So what is this? A lesson? ‘Don’t end up like Jason?’ I didn’t need the inconvenience of an afternoon wasted to grasp—”
“Damian.”
Damian shut his mouth with a click. Maybe Dick had let too much anger through. He ran his hand through his hair. “We’re here because I’m sad, kiddo,” he said softly. "Jason was hurting, and he didn't trust anyone enough to ask for help. I should have been there for him."
"It isn't your fault."
Dick closed his eyes at the sting of Damian's words. "I should have been there for him," he whispered, unable to raise his voice any further. "I should've."
One tear forced its way through his eyelid, and then another. He brought a hand up to try to wipe them away, but suddenly there were too many. "I should've been there for him, Damian."
Every sob felt like it was being wrenched from him like teeth, and he fell to his knees. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. Jason had had his life ripped away from him far too young, and when he was given a miraculous second chance, it had been too painful for him to stay. He'd been alone. Dick had failed him. He should have been there.
"Richard!" Damian's arms wrapped around him.
"I thought we had time," he sobbed, holding Damian like a lifeline. "He was a miracle, and I took him for granted."
"It isn't your fault," Damian said, muffled by the hug. "It isn't."
It didn't matter if it wasn't Dick's fault. Paola was right. He'd waited to help until it was too late to do any good. And Jason was gone.