Chapter Text
The night was particularly quiet, something unusual for a city like Gotham. Cars came and went, passersby hurried their steps to get home, and the last trains began their journeys.
Anyone looking at the scene would disagree with Jason. The night seemed more full of life than ever, but he knew better.
Beneath all that apparent movement was something that made his hair stand on end.
Tonight was a moonless night, so, with the closing of the big buildings, the light was growing scarcer and scarcer in the street.
He could feel it in his bones. Soon everything would take an unexpected turn; it was only a matter of time.
“You could take the trouble to turn on your comm, you had us a little worried,” a sing-song voice rang out.
The masked man scoffed.
“Maybe you should learn to recognize a hint for what it is. If I don’t have it on, it means I don’t want to talk to you,” he answered irritably, lifting his eyes from the sidewalk to come face to face with Nightwing.
The acrobat seemed to shrink slightly under the weight of his gaze.
“Tell the old man I don’t need a babysitter.”
“B is trying, Hood. You should give him a chance.”
The boy laughed bitterly.
“You can tell him to give that chance to someone who actually cares. Let him go give that sad look to Kent, to Agent A, or... Why doesn’t he give it to the fucking Joker? After all, he loves giving him second...”
“Enough,” he cut in. “There’s no need for you to be so hurtful. I know you’re hurting, Jason. I know it hurts that Bruce didn’t kill the Joker after your death, but you can’t take your anger out on everyone.”
Red Hood bristled, throwing a punch that connected straight with his adoptive brother’s jaw.
“You think I can’t, Dickie? Then watch me do it.”
Dick Grayson cradled the injured area with his hand and then spat the blood gathering in his mouth onto the ground.
“I’m not here to defend Bruce. I just want you to realize that not everyone is against you. You still have us by your side, Jay. I just hope you don’t realize it too late.”
And just like that, the vigilante left, leaving the mob boss alone on the rooftop of a building.
Red Hood didn’t want to think about the implications of his brother’s words, he really didn’t. He felt much more comfortable throwing punches and breaking a few bones than connecting with his emotions. And Bruce? ... Bruce was an open wound, bleeding and festering.
No, Jason preferred to let that wound get infected rather than try to heal it.
He swore it on his empty grave.
Thanks to whatever entity kept him alive, he didn’t have to think about that much longer, because a short scream cut through the quiet.
As he set off, his mind scolded him for the sudden joy he felt.
It was disgusting to feel happy because someone was being attacked. It was a shame, but there was nothing he could do. He had already accepted that he was a heartless bastard.
He didn’t need to go far to find the source of the disturbance. A few blocks from where he was patrolling, he found a small-time thief intimidating a... a lady from the 14th century?
He was sure he had taken a blow to the head without noticing. Ivy had surely been up to her old tricks again with the hallucinogenic spores.
She couldn’t be a time traveler, right?
With every passing second he became more convinced that he should call Wally to ask him what business Team Flash was up to.
However, all his scheming was interrupted by the girl’s screams... terrified?
“You had better keep your filthy hands off me, you monstrosity.”
Monstrosity?
The vigilante’s astonishment dissipated abruptly the moment he noticed the man in question pulling something shiny and metallic out of his pocket.
He didn’t have time to fully draw the weapon before Jason shot him in the leg.
The man’s scream echoed loudly through the alley.
“Oops! It was an accident. You should watch where you put your legs, they got in the way of my bullet’s trajectory,” he apologized.
The man’s eyes widened in terror as he realized who he was facing.
“You... you... you’re...”
The color drained from his face.
“Boo!” Jason snapped.
“Aaaaah!” screamed the thief, running as best he could with his broken leg.
The hooded man laughed heartily.
He loved his job.
A slight clearing of the throat drew his attention.
“Ah, yes. Excuse me, miss?”
“Juliet Capulet, a pleasure.”
Jason could feel his face contort with disbelief.
“This has got to be a fucking joke.”
“That language,” the lady reproached.
The vigilante held himself back from rolling his eyes.
“I apologize... “ the young woman looked at him expectantly. “Juliet. But you must understand that it’s very hard for me to believe that a character from the year 1400 is standing before me right now.”
The blonde girl shook her head, carefully smoothing her hair.
“Actually, it’s from the 12th century, but I understand the confusion. Now, if you would be so kind as to escort me home, I would be deeply grateful.”
Jason’s eyes settled on the hand the girl was extending in his direction, as if she expected him to offer his arm or something.
“Of course,” he replied, a little stunned.
As if hypnotized, the most feared mob boss in Gotham took it upon himself to escort young Juliet Capulet to her apartment, under her firm directions.
“How exactly did you end up here?” he asked once he was able to find his voice.
“I don’t really remember very well. One moment I was beside my beloved Romeo and, the next, I found myself here... in front of that man.”
The boy nodded, dismayed. After all, it wasn’t the strangest thing that had ever happened to him. He himself had come back from the dead, so why would this be any stranger?
“We’ve arrived,” the girl indicated after a few minutes.
Jason raised his gaze to see a somewhat run-down building, but all in all quite pretty.
His green eyes met her blue ones.
The young man couldn’t say why, but he smiled.
“Right at your home, my lady,” he said in farewell, placing a gallant kiss on her hand.
The blonde laughed as her cheeks flushed, making a small curtsy in response.
Red Hood had already turned his back when her voice called to him again.
“Hood.”
“Yes?” he asked softly.
“My name is Lucy. Lucy Adams,” she pronounced. “You should come see me act at the ‘Obsidian’ theater when you can. Maybe you’d like to see ‘Romeo and Juliet,’” she laughed, quickly turning her back to him and entering her apartment.
Jason’s smile faded little by little as he understood what had happened.
That girl had made a fool of him! And he, like an idiot, had fallen for her pretty eyes.
He knew he shouldn’t trust people.
The boy left with his pride shattered and one fixed idea in his mind: he would never visit the “Obsidian” theater in his life.