Payback is a Bitch
Jason fell onto the couch, distraught by the news. He could hear Dick called his name over the phone, but he just lifelessly hung up on him.
"Jaybird? What's the matter?" Roy asked, sitting down beside the man. Jason's expression changed on a dime and now he looked pissed. Jamming his phone it his pocket, he stored toward the door and grabbed his brown leather jacket. Roy was up off the couch in an instant, following after the man. He grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
"Jay, what's up?" Roy asked again. Jason shot him a murderous look that made him flinch.
"Alfred's been shot," Jason said in a low, deathly calm tone. Roy stared at him, wiped eyes, mouth agape.
"Mark my words, Roy," Jason said, grabbing up the keys to his motorcycle and pointing at the man "someone will die for this." Jason stormed out of the door, leaving Roy behind. The man tried to catch up with him, racing around the apartment to find his shoes and his jacket, but by the time he got downstairs, Jason had already taken off down the street on his motorcycle.
As he sped down the street toward Gotham General Hospital, Jason was keenly aware of the fact that Bruce, Dick, Tim and Barbara would all be there. Alfred was worth whatever crap they gave him though, and he'd be sure to give it right back.
The hospital came into view minutes later and he tightened his grip on the handle bars of the bike, both hesitant to see Alfred in whatever state he was in, and angry at the people who did it, blood singing and one, powerful thought singing like a chorus in his mind: Revenge.
Jason parked his bike and rushed into the building, pushing past people and not bothering to apologize to anyone. He came to the front desk and asked after Alfred. Everything around him was a blurr as he raced down to the man's room. He stopped in the doorway to see the man fast asleep, with Bruce, Dick, Tim and Barbara all gathered around him.
"Jason," Dick breathed, tears pricking at his eyes. Jason tried to hide his own, but to no avail. He let them fall because the man who had been like a grandfather to him, was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. He entered the room, shoving Dick aside as the man approached and stopped beside the bet. He and Bruce met eyes and you could see the sparks dancing between them; Bruce knew what Jason was planning to do.
"Jason-"
"Don't fucking start," Jason growled, low and threatening.
"Both of you, stop. Now is not the time," Dick snapped angrily. Both men glanced back at Dick who returned to Alfred's side. He looked to Jason and their eyes met. It was Jason who looked away first, and Dick closed the space between them and hugged him. Jason didn't hug back, but he didn't struggle against it either. His eyes were locked on Alfred, mind contemplating all the ways he could kill the man responsible.
Dick parted from Jason and rubbed his back before he sighed deeply and move across the room to sit in a nearby chair.
"What. Happened?" Jason asked, looking around the room at each of them.
"Black Mask-" Tim blurted out, silenced by a well placed glare from Bruce. Jason's brow furrowed and his fists clenched. His jaw worked angrily, teeth grinding. If Black Mask was responsible for Alfred's condition, if Alfred died, Black Mask would suffer, severely, before he died.
"Jason-"
"Shut up," Jason said evenly, locking eyes with the man "what. Happened. I won't ask again. I'll hack the GCPD if I have to, I don't care. Pick your poison. Everyone save for Bruce flinched at the venom in Jason's tone. What was worse, was that he spoke in a completely calm, even tone. Jason was beyond pissed.
"Wayne Enterprises has been funding efforts to take down Black Mask," Barbara began. Tim cleared his throat, glancing at Bruce who wore a neutral expression.
"Alfred...was a message. To get Bruce Wayne to back down," Tim said.
"He's stable, but he's in a medically induced coma," Dick said with a sigh, raking his hands through his hair. He got to his feet and approached the bed, looking down at the butler's pale face with sorrowful eyes "the damage was...bad. Several bullet wounds. He survived, and they managed to stabilize him, but...because of his old age..."
Jason glared around the room, jaw working as he fought to maintain control over his temper. Without another word, he stormed out of the hospital room. Dick made a move to follow him, but Bruce stopped him with a simple hand on his shoulder. Dick glanced back at Bruce with a sorrowful expression, because he knew that underneath his anger, Jason was hurting, and he wanted to help.
The Red Hood sat perched atop a building thumbing through his phone. He had been receiving texts, news articles, and hacked info from the GCPD and Black Mask for the past hour, from his Arkham Knights. It was fortunate that he and Arsenal had broken them out of Blackgate, because with their help, they'd managed to slow Black Mask down quite a bit. Nightwing, Batman, and Red Robin helped too, of course, but their methods wouldn't be enough to stop Black Mask. Not permanently, anyway...
"A drug bust, an intimidation racket, and an attempted assassination all in one night. Black Mask has been quite busy," Arsenal said over the comm link. Hood's eyes narrowed.
"Two assassination attempts," he corrected.
"Right, sorry," Arsenal replied. Hood didn't answer. He heaved a sigh and pocketed the phone, pulling out a grappling gun and swinging down from the building he was perched on. He landed on the roof of Gotham General Hospital, and climbed down to the window to Alfred's room and slipped inside, closing it behind himself. He sighed again as he looked over the old butler and sat in the chair beside his bed. He pulled off his helmet, still wearing a blood red domino mask and held the helmet in his hands as he stared at the old man with a sorrowful expression.
He didn't trust that Black Mask might make another attempt, so if he had to sit here all night and watch him, protect him, he would. He had a lot of good memories of Alfred. As a teenager, he'd always had so much anger, so much rage, but also a lot of pain. Alfred had always been more patient with him than Bruce, and always had an ear to spare when he needed someone to listen. Alfred was never too busy for him.
He was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of a window opening. Purely on muscle memory, he drew a gun and pointed it toward the window. Nightwing had slipped inside and had his hands raised defensively.
"Oh, it's just you," Hood said evenly. Nightwing snorted.
"Gee thanks," he replied with a smirk, closing the window behind him. He slipped across the room to a chair in the corner and said "hello to you too, Jaybird."
"And what brings you here, Dickie-bird?" Jason asked, quirking an eyebrow. Dick peeled his mask off the flashed him a smile.
"Bruce was worried about Alfred, wanted to watch over him. I offered to instead."
"Isn't that sweet."
"Hey, he was important to me too, Jason."
"I know. Sorry."
The two men sat in silence, just watching Alfred, keeping their eyes peeled for any danger. Dick finally sat up and gave a sigh.
"Look, Jason, now might not be a good time. Hell, there may...never be a good time," Dick murmured, looking up at Jason. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.
"You're right, now's not a good time, so don't," Jason interrupted. Dick frowned, but before he could get a word in, Jason continued "look, I know what you want to say. Some sentimental crap about being in love with me, and that praise bull crap you do, but don't." Jason turned to Dick, looked him square in the eye and added "I'm sorry Dick, but I'm just...not interested."
Dick chuckled in amusement, dragging a confused look out of Jason.
"You're lying. I can tell, but I'll leave it be for now," he replied. Jason turned his face to hide the blush that began to blossom on his face. It was true, he was lying. He still loved Dick, but Dick deserved better than him, whether he realized it or not.
For the time being, the two of them returned to silence, just watching, waiting. Until Jason's phone rang again. He dug through his pocket for the phone and opened the message; it was a text from Arsenal. He'd met up with a couple of his Knights and together, they found Alfred's would-be-Assassin. Jason grinned to himself and got to his feet, pulling on his helmet.
"What's up?" Nightwing asked, sitting up in his seat. Hood gave him a smirk before he headed for the window, grappling up to the building across the way. Nightwing frowned, and accessed his communicator.
"Oracle, this is Nightwing. Can you track Jason? I think he found the man who targeted Alfred."
Red Hood and Arsenal had the man responsible for Alfred's condition tied to a chair in the middle of the room of one of Hood's old safe houses. The man had a bloody nose, blood running down his chin and a black eye; Hood had made this personal. He knew Nightwing would try to follow him, so he cloaked himself from all forms of tracking, save for visual, to make it more difficult for them to find him.
He dragged the man here to one of Black Mask's shipping warehouses and they both beat down each and every one of Black Mask's men, to make an example out of them, and the assassin, and to send a message to Black Mask.
"So Black Mask barks, and you jump. You're a pussy," Red Hood snapped, slamming the man's knee cap with a hammer. The man shrieked in pain as a loud crack echoed throughout the room. Even Arsenal flinched at Hood's brutality. He grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him aside.
"Tone it down, would you? This is getting a little out of hand. I know you're pissed, but-"
"He's getting what he deserves," Hood growled darkly. Arsenal took a step back at the malice in Hood's voice. Obviously he took Alfred's health and well being dead seriously. Hood said nothing else and neither did Arsenal. He drew a gun and jammed it against the man's temple.
Nightwing swooped down from the Wing Glider above and landed on top of the building, silently hoping Jason hadn't killed the man. He slipped inside, through the glass roof and down into the main complex below. The Red Hood and Arsenal were long gone, but what he found inside was...pretty bad. The u conscious bodies of Black Mask's thugs littered the room and in the middle of them, was Alfred's would-be assassin, tied up and beaten pretty badly. Nightwing checked for a pulse...the man was dead. Nightwing sighed, slightly disappointed, but looked around the room at all the other men; all unconscious but alive. It was something, at least. Nightwing contacted the GCPD and slipped out of the building.
Jason had killed two or three of them, but not everyone. Perhaps there was some hope for him after all? What he really wanted to do, was track him down, talk to him, but he felt that now wasn't the right time. So he settled for something else...
Jason was sitting on the couch of in his apartment, drinking himself stupid to help keep his temper in check. It took all he had to spare that fucking assassin. Roy meanwhile, was passed out, exhausted in the bedroom. His phone rang and he sighed, finding a text from Dick.
Thanks. I know it was hard, but thanks.
Jason snorted softly to himself, eyeing the message again. He was too drunk to respond and he wasn't sure what to say, so he pocketed the phone and sighed, turning his attention back to...whatever the hell was on.
"Golden boy," he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.
