Chapter 3: Insecurities

A part of Steve was thankful that he couldn't see beyond the soulless whites of the mask. What hid behind them made Steve uneasy. Maybe a lingering intelligence that hid in the background only to snap forward in a moment's notice or an unhinged violence that had to be coerced out or worst of all precise calculating eyes that knew more than they should.

Steve suspected it was the latter

They'd decided to call the kid, Red- though Tony and Clint preferred Walmart Boy and had managed to sway Natasha. As of yet, Red hadn't made a separate attempt of leaving, though something in the hidden gaze suggested nothing good of his seeming compliance.

Red Robin was always asking questions, dodging in and out in a verbal fencing game. He'd parry whenever someone interrogated him only to counter with a loaded question. Steve felt afraid to tell the kid what he had for lunch two Sundays ago. Who knew what he could do with that.

After a mishap with the accomplice, security around Red had been tightened. Although the boy seemed intrigued by this, having lifted a masked eyebrow, he didn't seem concerned. His lips had quirked a bit after finding out he'd be moving.

It wasn't long before he was in the Avengers section of the towers. Fury's requested to always have eyes pinned on the boy. Tony seemed fairly happy with this, he enjoyed decoding the boy's brain almost as much as Red seemed to like to pick theirs.

Clint wasn't as happy.

Hence the situation that Steve walked into. He'd just gotten back from his morning jog to see the rest of the present team awoken by a different type of alarm clock.

"Give that back!" Clint yelled chasing after the handcuffed teen who held a mug of coffee in his hands. The teen pranced around the archer while drinking the coffee as if it'd be his last.

"What's happening?" He asked as he ambled over to Natasha, his eyes never leaving the one sided squabble.

"Walmart Boy stole Clint's coffee." She supplied. Her body was tense on the chair, and she leaned her weight forward to watch intently. A hand dancing on the arm rest.

"I didn't realize he'd been allowed outside his room yet."

In the dance between Clint and Red, it was apparent who was the ballet instructor and who was the kid that'd stumbled into the wrong class. Clint's fruitless grabs were to Steve like getting sucker punched with a balloon. Bizarre, harmless, yet unpleasant all the same.

"He wasn't."

"Then how'd he?"

"I don't know."

It wasn't just her head that was un-moving, but rather her entire body except for her set of pupils following the boy around the room.

"Are you hearing me, Kid?" Clint asked.

The teen didn't respond, instead just drinking faster. Tony was watching from behind the counter, leaning forward slightly on his elbows. Natasha's gaze sapped in every detail of Red's movement. Her gaze was permeable to all information and her frown deepened the longer she watched.

Clint did a dash at him to which the boy twisted into the limbo instinctively before twirling around to look at Clint before darting off towards the bar. A slight limp now apparent. Natasha's hands flickered with a slight clench at Clint's failures.

"Be careful Clint." Steve said. "I don't think Fury wants either of you to get restitched again." While Red had torn his stitches fighting Clint, Clint had torn his from reaching for a jar of pickles on the top shelf.

"If he doesn't give it back he'll need more."

Clint made another grab at the boy who turned, rolling off of Clint's back and dropping down only to use the momentum to jump onto the bar. With a look of defiance on his face, and one of defeat on Clint, the boy chugged the last of the coffee before dropping it onto the bar where it dully clattered.

"You can have it now."

He climbed off the bar, his limp had worsened from the extraneous movement. He would wince every couple of steps, although he had a small smile that hadn't left since Steve first saw him with the coffee mug.

He turned to Steve. "I'd like to return to my room.".

Clint had picked up the empty cup and glared at Red. The teen didn't give Clint the gratification of a glance, instead staying focused on Steve. "So I can lay down before I have to speak to Fury."

The whiplash form the change in tone made Steve feel as if he was strapped to the top of a roller coaster by his arms and told to enjoy the ride before being tossed out to face whatever loops came up. And boy were there loops.

"Uh." Clint was sadly staring into his mug of coffee, Tony seemed about ready to dissect the teen, and Natasha was still just watching. "Sure, kiddo."

Red Robin began to walk towards his room. His hands jingled from handcuffs. His limp was now more apparent than before. Steve gave him an arm for him to lean on, the hair on the back of his neck stood up apparently thinking he'd given his arm to a vulture. Who knows, maybe he had.

"Thanks." He grumbled.

It didn't take them long to get to the room, and they were both fairly quiet on the journey. The boy's stare was ahead, his fingers tapping on the side of his leg. The boy was drowning in his thoughts and was too far in to notice the door.

"Hey Kid?"

The boy's fingers stopped. He sized up the door.

"Oh."

He scuffed the ground with his foot. His fingers began to tap on his leg again. The door handle remained hand-less.

"Are you going to?" He gestured at the door.

He didn't need to see the boy's eyes to understand the look shot his way. It was as if the apparently mundane situation had led the boy into a comatose state of boredom.

"It's locked."

"But how'd you get-"

Red sucked in his breath. His hand let go of Steve's arm to hold his center. Steve was quick to have Jarvis unlock the door. His question now gone, the new tenant being mild concern. He helped the teen to the bed, reattaching the cuffs to a chain that was near the leg of the bed.

"You really shouldn't push Clint like that." Steve said. The boy had started to sink into the bed, his tiny frame getting lost in the assortment of blankets, pillows, and throws. A couple of them had been stained in blood and would have to be replaced.

The teen shrugged. "I was on coffee withdrawal."

"You shouldn't drink too much cof-"

The boy pouted at Steve. A parry that made Steve clamp his mouth shut. His fingers were still tapping away on his leg. He never stopped pouting, and a hand still supported his center.

"Have you heard anything about Hood." With every parry inevitably came a counter, and Paired with his pout his counter should be classified as a weapon of mass destruction.

"I haven't heard very much." Red's gloom intensified. The boy let out a sigh, that Steve suspected he wanted him to hear, but was still quiet enough that he couldn't be sure. "Just that he's a handful."

A smile reclaimed ownership of Red's face. He wished that the teen would do it more rather than try and rip Steve's heart out like a commercial that had teary animals. "That sounds like him."

"So he's a good brother?"

Steve was fully prepared for the parry. Steve considered leaving the room before he would inescapably reveal more than Fury wanted. Getting an actual answer left Steve more dejected than a sidestep would have.

"It's complicated."

"Family can be tough." Steve tried. Bucky was like family and that was a rocky road if Steve had ever had to drive down one.

The teen laughed, though he wasn't in the room with Steve. Red had traveled somewhere Steve doubted he'd ever know about.

"You have no idea."

Steve wasn't in the room very long before he made his move to leave. The teen had stopped making conversation, and had gone back to swimming through his tsunami of thoughts. Steve wondered if that's what the boy's eyes looked like, a tsunami. A wave that rolled in with the intensity to level buildings.

It wasn't till he closed the door and locked it he realized he'd missed the biggest parry yet. It had been the re-clicking of the lock that had triggered it. He shook his head in defeat.

"Damn."


Red Hood was completely different than his supposed brother in Tony's opinion. The kid was entertaining, with a hidden wit that Tony hoped rivaled his own. Not to be vain or anything. The man across from him was not witty, most of his punchlines were born from a swear. Not exactly breathtaking.

Tony had been waiting for the moment to meet the first anomaly, and there was no real reason he should be here. It was really just that he was taking an unsupervised vacation until Fury got finished talking to the Kid or found out why Tony had gone out. Until then…

"So, you're Jason aren't you?"

The masked man was frankly physically imposing, especially considering, his 'brother' looked like a twig, the difference was startling. Even if not for the muscle, his presence made the room crowded as he bore down on Tony with a sharpened glare. It was more satisfying than Tony would admit to see the man splutter, even if it was barely noticeable. The brief break in his threatening demeanor was worth the inevitable hit now on his head.

"Sorry, I don't know a Jason."

The man's hands were chained to the table though Tony was still conscious to not put his hands within scratching difference.

"That's the name the boy mumbled while he was half dead." He re-looked over the man's build. "You kinda look the man he thought Jason was, similar build."

The man pushed against the handcuffs but didn't say anything. Tony was immensely uncomfortable with the silence, assuming that the man, Jason, was planning his murder in the void of talking.

"That kid's real smart isn't he."

Silence.

"Is he really your brother?"

Silence. A set of clenched hands.

"He keeps asking about you."

Bang. Tony jumped as Jason's hands slammed on the metal table. He found his voice caught in his throat wishing he had come in the Iron-man suit.

"Who the fuck are you even supposed to be?"

Swearing- so creative. Jason's articulation mastery was not Tony's primary prickling though. Tony wasn't used to being asked who he was, sworn at sure, but never asked for a name. Maybe Jason and Walmart boy were really related, they probably grew up under the same rock if they both didn't know him.

"Tony Stark." He grinned mimicking repulsion blasts. "You know, Iron man." His smile was not returned.

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Jason paused. "Or care?"

Tony spluttered a second time unsure if this was a mind game or if Jason really had been living as a nomad in an uncharted desert for the past twenty years.

"What do you care about? Bleaching a single strand of hair?"

Said strand stood starkly out on the head of ebony as a streak of ivory. Unfortunately Tony would never learn of the why, as Jason ignored his question. Clueless and manner-less Tony thought.

"Cut the shit, where's Red Robin?"

"You haven't found him yet? He's chilling in Cancun."

Slam. Tony didn't need to see the man to feel the heat of anger exploding out of Jason. He could have been in Wisconsin and still have been in the blast radius.

"Why does everyone here think this is a joke." He latched onto Tony's hand which had inched too close to the muzzled dogs that Jason had for hands. Tony was pulled forward, his shoulder slammed into the table making him splurge out a muffled sound. "Someone's going to come for the us, maybe friendly maybe not. I need to find him, it's in both our best interests."

Nails dug into his hand, it was being twisted causing him to curve with it to prevent spraining or breaking. He didn't risk pulling away fearing that he'd hear a snap. This was significantly less fun.

"I'm gambling for the friendly ones." He pulled tighter till Tony's wrist couldn't be strained any further. "You guys should hope its the other ones." Then Jason pulled more. Excruciating. Harrowing. Agonizing. The limit had been hit and-

Snap.

Tony almost didn't hear what Jason said next over his own screaming.

"So are you going to take me to my brother or not?" Tony had backed near the two sided glass. Jason watched fuming from his place chained to the table. "Or do you want some bats to come break the other hand?"

Bats... Walmart boy had never mentioned any bats. That was a problem for future Tony, current Tony was just prepared to get as far away from the psycho brother as he could.

Jason was still yelling as Tony turned tail and backed out and slammed the door, triple checking that it was locked.

Perhaps the brothers were more similar than he had originally thought. They both held a skill for manipulation. Even if the methodologies were rather different in Tony's person opinion, though it was hardly subjective.

Well that and their ability to slip out of unslippable places. A set of dislocated thumbs had gotten another agent a broken leg and a concussion after Jason had gotten out of his cuffs. Walmart Boy's increased security was justifiable in Tony's perspective.

At least things were going fine with Walmart Boy.


If Tim had been with Tony he would have hummed in agreement with that sentiment. Things had been going just fine. All it took was sedating Black Widow with a sample of his fighting style and he'd gotten a sense of how his door locked. Well that and a returned pain in his stomach... The coffee had been worth it all.

He was getting antsy though. Tim took after Bruce, with his long convoluted plans; Jason on the other hand, Jason was not a master of subtly. He'd been slipped by Fury where Jason was, probably bait based on how easy it was to find. Sometimes though, when a fish is given the option of starving or biting into a suspicious worm, it's worth taking the bite and risking meeting the fisherman on the end of the line.

He doubted Jason had taken the bait. He'd seen it no doubt, though there was most certainly no Cavalry coming for Tim. Hence why Tim had to find Jason, because Jason would not find Tim even if fully equipped to do so.

They just weren't close like that.

He wondered why Nightwing hadn't come yet, or Batman. Not Robin though. Damian, much like Jason, didn't care much about Tim. Dick though, he cared about everyone, and Bruce; Bruce he would have come if he knew. Tim kept telling himself that.

His mind drifted to others. He'd called for Kon. He hadn't come. Neither had Bart, or Cassie. None of them. Casandra hadn't. Steph hadn't. Babs hadn't. They just didn't know. That's why he was alone in the room, his arms chained by a group of people he had never heard of.

They just didn't know.

Tim was glad that they didn't know. The situation was embarrassing. He glad that no one had come. Glad. He was glad the one person who did know wasn't coming. If Jason did come then there went his meticulous planning. Good thing he wasn't.

No one was.

His door swung open and there in all his one eyed glory was the bastard himself, Fury. Tim didn't like Fury. Fury reminded him of a Batman that cared about Tim's in the way a hunter cared about a deer.

"Come on kid." He went over to Tim unhooking his lock from the bed so that Tim could move beyond his bed or bedpan. He held onto Tim by the chain linking the handcuffs. Tim stumbled forward his stomach hurting slightly still. He should have twirled less while messing with Clint.

Fury led him out the door where two agents followed them as they walked. Tim had been in the possession of the Avengers for just over a week at this point and Fury had come to visit every day he'd been conscious.

It always sucked.

Sure, it was a great time to learn information. Fury let it slip out all the time. Even taking Tim for walks was a mistake on Fury's part. On past days he would lead Tim to the lab to look at his suit and ask questions about it. Tim often contemplated the larger intent, Fury, Tim suspected, was not as careless as he let on.

He really wanted Tim to take the bait, and Tim was prepared to take it hook, line, and sinker. His plan accounted for it. It accounted for if Fury knew his plan accounted for it. Tim wasn't too full of himself to say that he sometimes overthought things. Overthinking things is the only reason Tim's alive though, so he'd deal with the paranoia. It was just a bat thing.

"So kid." They got into the elevator. It wasn't a tight fit, there was still a lot of space in the elevator, but Fury's constant watch made him claustrophobic and the elevator emphasized it. "Who are you?" He didn't wait for Tim's parry continuing before he could cut him off. "I don't mean your civilian identity, who is Red Robin?"

They had come out at one of the unused floors that Fury often liked to take Tim to where he could avoid the Avengers and the general public. Tim considered the question. The genuine tone unsettled Tim as Fury never seemed genuine. The guy was a total snake.

"I work in Gotham with Batman."

"Who is Batman."

Tim stopped in his tracks, though he was jerked forward a bit as Fury didn't stop immediately and still had a hold of Tim.

"You aren't one of the people who thinks that he's a myth still right?" Tim asked. "People haven't believed that for years."

"I have never heard of a Batman until I met you and your uh…"

"Brother." Tim supplied. It felt weird to say. That's what they were though, in some tangled way of the word. Didn't make it anymore normal.

"Brother," Fury continued, smirking as he said it. "Brought him up."

Tim hummed while thinking, his fingers tapping on his leg. Everyone knew of Batman, it was only the superstitious who thought he was a myth. A myth can't punch someone in the face though, and Batman could do that, he'd seen it plenty of times.

"Batman watches over Gotham." He watched Fury intently. Fury was nodding as Tim talked, he had begun to drag him along on their walk again. "A vigilante I guess."

"And your connection to him? You said you worked with him?"

Tim didn't like answering the questions everyone knew the answer to. It made him queasy when the ulterior motive wasn't present. Everyone had an ulterior motive.

"He trained all the robins."

"There's more of you." Concern edged into Fury's voice.

Tim ignored Fury as they stopped to look outside of a window. The sun held high in the sky and the city below them was bustling. Below them, as they were so high up, it was nice; almost like being on the rooftops of Gotham againn. Just cleaner and brighter.

"I'm going to ask some questions." He stated. He reached a hand out to touch the glass. Sure the city was nice, but he'd prefer to be home. Even if no one was looking for him, Gotham was still his home with or without Nightwing, Batman, and all the others. Sure, it was lonelier, but home is home.

They just don't know.

"Who are the Avengers?"

Tim was too busy being homesick to notice the shadow coming towards the building.


Jason had found it extremely stress relieving to break the wrist of Tony. Sure, he still hadn't been able to cross examine where he thought Tim was with what someone else knew, but it'd have to do. He needed to find Tim.

When Tony had left, he'd been expecting someone to come in and tighten his restraints more, that's what they'd done the last time. He was just hoping they didn't remove his bathroom privileges. That'd just be inhuman- and remove the only time when he wasn't chained to that stupid metal table. His only time to attack. He needed that privilege for several reasons.

No one came for at least two hours. When someone finally did stalk in, he recognized her as the woman he'd fought in the hallway. The one he could've beat if stupid Tim didn't have to be on the cusp of death.

He hoped Tim wasn't dead.

She watched him with disdain. He offered her his most charming smile.

"I promise I didn't mean to break him."He put his hands in the air as much as he could feigning innocence. "It's just that bones, well you know how they are." He made a crack noise with his mouth.

"I'm not here about Tony."

"Then let's agree to forget what I just said."

"It's about Walmart- Red Robin."

Jason stiffened a bit, but tried not to let on how intently he was paying attention now. He tried to remain lax, knowing full well that both agents saw through his bullshit.

"What about him?"

"Do you know of any masked Assassins?"

Jason knew this would happen. It happened because these thickheaded agents couldn't get it through their brains that he had to find the replacement. His rage started to bubble, building up inside him. He didn't care if they knew he could undo this handcuffs. That they were child's play. He didn't care if they took away his only lock pick.

He worked on the one discreetly. He slammed his other hand on the table redirecting attention to it. Another slam on the table disguised the click as the right one popped open. "What do you mean masked Assassins?"

He didn't care if she saw him unlock the left one, he could do it before she made it to the table. If they took Timmy…

Widow took notice of what was going down. She jumped forward as the left one clicked off. She was tackled mid jump by Jason who soared over the table towards her. They crashed against the ground with her taking the blunt of the fall.

"What happened to Red Robin?"


The assassin had found his rulers prize. Sure he had gotten away at first, an inter-dimensional mistake. There he was though. The Detective. The one Ra's had sent him for. The charge was at the window completely unaware.

He hadn't expected it to be so easy. The teen held himself strangely, the cut on his stomach inflected by another Assassin hadn't healed yet. He was without his gear, his belt, his mask.

Defenseless. Weak. Just a Child.

The buildings defenses had been overturned two rooftops ago. Now it was just a matter of getting in, grabbing the Detective, and getting out.

He braced preparing the jump.

He wasn't used to his jobs being this easy.