Chapter Text
After dropping Robin off with Dick, Jason was finally able to get to work on that trafficking ring. He’d found a way to get everyone out of that warehouse, and got some additional information from the girl he’d recognized there. He did end up throwing up after that conversation, but luckily he’d been able to get the helmet off before he emptied his guts.
The part nobody ever warns you about being a crime lord with moral standards is that every single thing that he hears the other not moral crime lords or whatever the fuck do makes him physically ill. Maybe somebody with a weak stomach shouldn’t be doing this job, but somebody's got to do it and personally he feels he’s the only one who can do it right.
Whatever, he freed the victims and killed everybody working there, the only thing that really made him feel better about any of this. It’s not that he likes killing people, he’d probably throw up if an innocent ever died because of him, but killing people who deserved it felt like he was cleaning the world. His own dirty hands meant nothing as long as someone out there can sleep easier at night because of his actions.
So yeah, he killed a bunch of people, that’s kind of his thing. It was only out of his usual if you were tracking his behavior patterns religiously and realized he had hardly killed anyone after his original spree, so he felt nobody would really bat an eye. Oh, Red Hood killed a bunch of human trafficking pieces of shit, big whoop.
Okay, maybe he’d forgotten that the bats were crazy and would have been tracking his every kill because they hate him and only him for some reason. They never did this for literally any other criminal, he swears. At least, if they had he just wasn’t told about it, but he’s assuming the worst because they hate him. At least Batman did, the jury was still out on Tim.
It had generally been a thing that bats weren’t allowed in Crime Alley since he’d moved in, a rule enforced mostly by him shooting at them every time they so much as stepped foot in his territory. So imagine his surprise when the big bat himself was spotted on multiple rooftops throughout Park Row the night after the crime scenes were found.
As a warning, he shot at him five times, only actually aiming for him for three of them. An olive branch of sorts. When of course Batman didn’t get up and high tail it out of there, instead staring down the man in a red helmet, he shot at him again, missing once again. God he hated this guy. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“We need to talk, Hood.” Batman growled, not a touch out of breath even after dodging the berate of bullets. Fucking rich asshole, he was too old to not be out of breath, he’d kill him right then if he wasn’t so curious as to why he was willing to get killed just to speak with him.
Standing a reasonable distance away, close enough he could still hear him but far enough he could resist the urge to strangle the man. As soon as he heard his sigh, the same sigh he always did when getting mad at him as a kid, he knew that this interaction would end with him trying to kill the man. He was seeing green, but trying his best to calm down. He’d promised Damian he would try his hardest not to kill his dad when he left, and if the only thing he can have connecting the two of them is a promise, then he’ll do his best to keep it.
“What do you want?” He spat, flicking the safety on and off on his gun just to give him something to do that wasn’t killing Batman. That guy had no clue how lucky he is that his son still respects him despite the fact he refused to acknowledge him. No. he couldn’t think too hard about Bruce completely abandoning Damian or he’d definitely shoot him.
He hated that he could read the man so much even under the cowl. Years spent by his side had him learning every micro expression so they could limit communication during tense situations. Currently he was giving the same expression he always did when Jason got in trouble, like when he’d found out he got in a fight at school. “You killed fifty people yesterday.”
“Oh is that what this is about?” He deadpanned. No fucking shit that’s what it was about, it doesn’t take the worlds best detective to put two and two together. “Why are you talking to me about it?”
“Because you killed people. A lot of people. You need to face the consequences of your actions.” God if he was going to get a dad lecture from this guy he was going to shoot both of them. “What you did was wrong, you have to understand that.”
This wouldn’t go anywhere. If he left now, he’d be followed and he’d keep trying to give him that stern talking to he seems so adamant about. Man fuck this guy, who does he think he is, his dad? He lost that privilege years ago when the boy he claimed to love like a son died and he didn’t do anything about it.
As the man kept talking in circles, the same lecture he’d heard a million times in his last days as Robin, he decided to distract the bat so he could finally leave. “Couldn’t help but notice your little birdy isn’t with you tonight.”
The resulting scowl on his face made him pause. That wasn’t the same one he had been expecting, but instead a defensive one. Shit, he’d never checked back in on Tim had he, just assumed that Dickface would have it covered like he always did. But what if he didn’t? Goddamnit, this was a major oversight. “Is he okay?’
“Pardon?” Apparently, friendly concern was a completely foreign concept to Batman, because he looked absolutely shocked speechless. You'd think someone would be glad that someone is worried about their child who had just been through an insanely traumatic experience, but not Bruce. No, he was a shit father through and through.
He took a step forward, bad because he was getting dangerously close to killing Batman distance, but he chose to ignore that. “The fuck do you mean pardon? I’m asking if he’s okay. You know, because I actually give a shit if people I save are safe later, hence the whole killing all those sick fucks who were selling him.”
Maybe he missed something. Bruce didn’t use to be this stupid. Now he was just sort of frozen in place, blank face and stiff shoulders. Neither of them spoke for a long time and he started getting impatient again, about to tell him to just fuck off again before the man spoke in a distinctively not Batman like voice. “What do you mean by that?”
Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, nobody told Bruce about what happened with Tim. he was upset for a whole of two seconds before realizing that he probably would have avoided him finding out too if he had the chance, and doubled with that kids crazy imposture syndrome a big fuck up like that would want to be brushed passed as fast as possible. God, this kid was gonna make his hair go white before he’s twenty. “I take it he didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” He growled, voice getting angrier.
“Oh nothing,” He pretended to lean against nothing, acting uninterested as he checked his nails which were actually just his gloves because he’s still in his suit. If he was forced to talk to his piece of shit absent father figure, he was going to fuck with him all he wanted. “Just that Timberlina was about to get sold to some rich asshole or something and I went in and saved him, no big deal.”
The Bat took a step forwards, getting angrier by the second. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that he was about to get decked in the face pretty hard by some armored fists. “You’re lying, I just saw him today.”
“Yeah, cause I freed him two days ago, duh- oh shit!” He narrowly dodged the fist thrown at him, stumbling back a little and just staring at him. “Rude. How about a thank you for saving your kid? Or maybe a ‘how do you know our identities’? Not even a good job on saving all those would be trafficking victims? You need to learn your manners, what would Alfie say?”
They both sort of froze after that. He’d been on a roll with this rant, trying to add humor where he could because really he didn’t want to break his stupid promise, not even realizing where his words were going. He hadn’t spoken of Alfred at all since his death, held the man in too high regards to speak about him when he himself was such a broken monster. And now here he was, bringing his grandfather up as a taunt. He felt his stomach churn. Do not throw up in front of Batman.
“Keep his name out of your mouth.” Batman said before running away, probably back to the manor where he could grill Tim. He only felt a little bad for tattling, that kid really did need help and telling an authority figure in his life would be good for him, but also he hated B and wanted him to die. If only the kid had a better authority figure who didn’t live hours away in Bludhaven. Whatever, kid dug his own hole by not telling Bruce sooner, it wasn’t his problem.