Chapter Text
“Heeeeyyy Hood.”
“I’m going to shoot you in the face.”
It had been a few weeks since the last time he’d run into Dick, well, since he broke into his apartment to drop off an unconscious Robin, and he wasn’t stoked to be seeing him again. Especially after his whole argument with Batman and forming a strange alliance with the kid. More bats was the last thing he wanted right then.
There was no reason for him to be there either! He was trying to convince this guy (honestly he should start trying to remember the names of people he’s attempting to work with) that he will in fact shut down his operation if he goes through with his plans of having his men run a favor for Black Mask. What can he say, he was feeling polite enough to give a warning today.
Of course it wouldn’t end as a simple warning, because when does it ever. Really he should stop spending time with the Replacement, he was obviously going soft. The guy had started yapping, going on and on, eventually ending his sleep inducing rant with, “Why would I want to work with you anyway? I heard you’ve been seen with Robin a lot lately. You been working with the bats?”
Luckily for him, he had the perfect excuse for why he was hanging around the kid that had absolutely nothing to do with him being like an annoying little tag along who insisted on following him everywhere and whom he didn’t have the heart to tell him to piss off. “I bought him from this one guy a few weeks ago. Sent him back to the bat for intel. He works for me now. Don’t start making assumptions based on rumors.”
“You bought a kid?” Suddenly the guy was shocked, reasonably so. He’d gotten the rundown of Hood's code the same as everyone else in the city when he came to town with a duffle of decapitated heads. “You, Red Hood, bought a kid?”
Yeah, it still made him a little nauseous to think about, but he’s wearing his helmet so nobody had to know how he got a little green at that. “I bought a Robin.” He corrected, cocking his head as if he was daring him to say something. Couldn’t be ruining his reputation that much. “There’s a difference. I hear you tell anyone I’m going around buying kids I’m killing you.”
The guy held up his hands and let out a laugh, Jesus Christ, why does everyone always think he’d be sarcastic at a time like this? “No, I understand plenty. Business is business. Are you maybe looking for more bats to add to your collection?”
And that’s how he got here, standing in a room in front of Nightwing who was tied to a chair. The guy had the audacity to be relieved by his presence. Thank fuck the guy had left to calculate how much the vigilante was worth selling for or his entire persona would be entirely destroyed. Goddamn these bats.
“You wouldn't shoot me.” He had the audacity to be completely confident in those words. Yeah he was so shooting this guy. “Tim would be upset.”
Well, he’s got him there.
As much as he doesn’t care about that kid at all, he’d rather not make him sad over Dickwad's death. He hadn’t seen him cry since that day on the roof and he wasn’t planning on seeing him cry again any time soon. And maybe he didn’t really want to see Dick die either. Either way it made shooting him no longer an option.
“Well, I’m buying you so shut up.” He shot back childishly, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through his hair only to stub a finger on his helmet. No matter how many times this exact same thing happened he could never quite avoid the instinct.
Still tied up in a chair because he’d been stupid and gotten caught, Dick snorted at the action. Maybe he should just leave him here. Maybe he should start packing around rubber bullets so he can shoot him when he gets annoying. “If I didn’t know better I'd say there’s a teenage boy under that mask with how huffy and puffy you’re being."
Little did he know he was exactly on the money with that one. Still he had a crime empire to control and a reputation to uphold so if anyone besides Timbo found out how old he really was he’d be entirely fucked. “No, I know it’s hard to imagine someone getting involved in this life after the age of ten, but most people usually wait until after their frontal lobe is developed to go out and try to get themselves killed every night.”
“That was unnecessary.” He frowned. Seriously? That’s what hit a nerve? Whatever, he could be insecure all he wanted, not his problem. “What’s your deal?”
“Excuse me?” The fuck did he mean what’s his deal? His deal is that he’s trying to work and everybody is pissing him off. His deal was that this is the first time he’s talked with Dick after coming back and he’s trying really hard not to freak out. His deal is that Nightwing won’t shut the fuck up for three seconds and the only thing he wanted to do was shoot him in the face because then it would all stop.
Or maybe he needed a break. Some tea. A nice book. That sounded good. Maybe it had been a very long night and all that he needed to do to fix it was sit down in silence with a classic and not think for a few hours.
Thank god that guy came back with a price for Dickface over here. It was suspiciously low, but it didn’t really matter what the goal there was (he assumes it’s to get back on his good side, but really, who knows) because he’d be back to kill him soon enough.
Once they were far enough away from the warehouse, Nightwing turned to him. “I never got to say thank you.” He smiled, continuing on after recognizing Hood's confusion. “For looking after Tim. You didn’t have to help him like that, but you did. Thank you. I… I don’t want to think about what could have happened to him if you weren’t there. It really means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome?” It was more of a question than a statement. He had a stupid urge to keep talking with him, so he did his best to come up with a few more sentences to keep the conversation going. “He’s a good kid. Got a good head on his shoulders. Somebody's got to look out for someone like that in a city like this.”
The vigilante nodded, smiling a little. “He tell you how he got the job? Showed up at my apartment door with a manilla folder of proof he threatened to give to the press about our identities. Made me bring him to the cave and demanded he become Robin. He saved B. After… Some things happened in our family and Batman wasn’t taking it very well. None of us were. I refused to go to Gotham to help him and that kid knew that someone had to. God, I just wish he got more sleep.”
Jason snorted at that. The whole speech about how great the new Robin is was triggering the pit he’d been trying so hard to bury inside, but that last sentence was able to shock it out of him. “Yeah, I noticed. I tried telling him, but I’m not sure how well he listened. I’m sure you’ve tried as well.”
“Oh, so many times. He never listens.” Dick laughed as well, face retaining a small smile even after he was done. “Alfred has to cut off his supply of coffee every few weeks, which seems to work. Recently I heard he’s taken to hot chocolate as a caffeine free alternative.”
It startled him a little to realize that he was smiling as well. Conversation with his brother was always easy, even when he didn’t know it was him apparently. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to come back one day, he decided. Just to visit Alfred and let Dick know his little brother wasn’t dead. Never for Bruce. But for the rest of them, maybe he’d try.