Sorry its' been so long guys! This is a really long chapter, and I hope you enjoy it. I have big plans for this story, and I can't wait to hear what you guys think.

I also kind of realized I haven't been putting a disclaimer on the beginnings of the chapters, so here's the first one of many to come...

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or any of its characters, except for the ones I have created and kind of Jasmine. Jasmine is Jason Todd in female form, but she's also a little different, but the general idea originally came from DC's character.

Read and enjoy!


"Bruce. Bruce." I say, checking to make sure he's still sleeping. His form is laying on his side, body turned towards me. He doesn't stir.

I push the soft, warm blankets back from over my body and slowly swing my legs over the edge. I feel a little surer of myself today, a little stronger.

I place one hand on the nightstand beside the bed, and use that as leverage to get to my feet. I wobble a little at first, but then find my balanced spot. I let go of the nightstand and take a step away, feeling my legs shake beneath me.

I slowly walk past Bruce, and pause when the floorboard creaks beneath me. He twitches, and I expect him to wake up, but when he doesn't I release a sigh.

The door is unlocked when my hand twists the knob. The hallway lights are on and illuminating the path I need to follow in order to get to where I want to go. As my hand trails along the walls, memories flood my mind.

Me racing down here as I try to escape Bruce's tickling fingers, me hiding as I played a game of hide and seek with Alfred and Dick, and me coming down this way to Bruce's room when I had a nightmare.

These memories make me sick.

I swallow down the bile that rises in the back of my throat and step down the stairs, taking them one at a time while keeping my hand firmly on the banister. I almost lose my footing halfway down, but regain control and make it to the bottom.

I take a minute to get my breathing under control before standing back up and walking through the living room towards the kitchen.

I push open the swinging door and put my bare feet on the cold linoleum. Judging by the way it looks outside, it has to be nearly 9:00 in the morning. This is late for me.

Walking around the island in the middle of the room and to the refrigerator, I cross my fingers and hope Bruce still has his stash of cheese sticks hidden beneath the bottom drawer. As I open the door, a wave of cold air brushes against my bare legs, causing goose bumps to rise. I weakly pull the bottom drawer out, tugging on it since it's always had a brief period where it gets stuck.

I smile as I see the assortment of string cheeses littering the drawer. Yes! Taking the closest one, I tear the paper off and stick half of it in my mouth.

"Master Bruce, if you wanted breakfast you could have just said so and I would have prepared it for you."

I stiffen, half of the cheese stick hanging out of my mouth.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred asks, and I hear his steps as he walks closer.

Slowly standing up, I look over the door of the refrigerator at a startled Alfred who is currently holding a silver platter. I bite half the cheese stick and pull off the part hanging out. I chew slowly and then swallow, before giving a weak smile.

The platter collides with the ground noisily, and I wince as the sound assaults my ears. Then I feel two arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me close and squeezing. I blink rapidly when I see it's Alfred who has me wrapped in his arms.

When he notices I'm not doing anything he steps back, and straightens his vest. "I'm terribly sorry Madame, that was uncalled for—"

I cut him off by pulling him back to me and hugging him tightly. He quickly reciprocates, and I feel my heart stop when he starts crying.

"Alfred, what's wrong?" I ask quietly, soothingly rubbing his back.

He sniffles, before pulling back and pulling out a handkerchief. He blows his nose quickly and then dabs at his eyes. "I'm so glad you're back, Miss Jasmine."

I smile sadly. "It's nice to be here, Alfred."

He chuckles, still sniffling. His eyes flicker down to the half-eaten cheese stick and then back up to me, a sad smile on his face. "You're still up to your old habits, I see."

"Well…" I trail off, my eyes cast towards the ceiling.

He laughs, and I chuckle before taking another bite of the food. Picking up the platter, he wipes off a speck of dirt and puts a determined look on his face. "I shall make you your favorite breakfast. It hasn't changed, has it?"

I smile softly, holding back the tears that threaten to flow. "No, no it hasn't."

He nods and turns to the kitchen. Before he gets very far though, he turns back around, a worried look on his face.

"Are you supposed to be up and wandering around? Does Master Bruce know you're here?"

I sigh, placing myself on one of the bar stools at the counter. "I'm fine, Alfred. Bruce is sleeping upstairs."

Alfred nods, then turns back to the stove. Not twenty minutes later, the smell of fresh pancakes, sausage, and eggs drifts up my nose. My eyes close of their own accord, enjoying for the first time in five years, the smell of a good meal.

I remember waking up before everyone else, and I would just come down to the kitchen, waiting for Alfred to get started on breakfast. If I was too impatient I would cook for everyone. Sometimes I would burn the food, but they still acted like they liked it anyway.

A plate full of food is placed in front of me, and I barely contain myself before I dive in. It's as if I haven't eaten in a year. Where actually, the medication has been making me not hungry.

"Be careful Miss Jasmine, we don't want you getting sick." Alfred warns, and starts cleaning the dishes.

I take a sip of orange juice before putting the glass back down. Only half of my plate is gone, and I would really like to not get sick. I finish the pancakes, then push the plate away, sliding off the bar stool.

"It was very good, Alfred. Thank you." I say, bringing the plate over to him. I scrape the leftover contents into the trash before placing the dish in the soapy water.

"Alfred, have you seen-" Bruce runs into the room saying, but stops when he sees me. He leans his form against the door frame and lets out a large sigh.

"You're giving me gray hairs." He says as he runs his hand through his unruly hair.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Who are you kidding? You had them long before you knew me. If you're going to blame someone for them, blame Dick."

A small smile goes across his face, and then he walks into the kitchen. "What're you cooking Alfred? Smells delicious."

"You mean you're actually going to stop and eat breakfast with us, Master Bruce?" Alfred asks, raising his own eyebrow.

Bruce rolls his eyes. "Yes. I figured I could do that once every millennia." The sarcasm drips from his mouth, running down his chin. It's hard not to laugh.

"So, how are you feeling Jazzy?" Bruce asks, turning in his seat to face me. I hide the cheese stick wrapper underneath my hand on the counter.

"I'm fine. It was a little odd waking up in your bed though." I say, looking down at my lap.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to keep you close."

"So I wouldn't run away?"

"So I could make sure nothing happened to you."

All that is heard is the sizzling of bacon on the stove. I swallow, feeling my throat constrict painfully at the awkward action.

"So who all knows?" I ask, looking up and out the kitchen window.

"About what?"

I turn to Bruce, a serious look on my face. "About me. About how I'm no longer dead."

He takes a deep breath. "Wouldn't you like to wait until after breakfast to get to serious matters?"

I shake my head, the hair that isn't pulled back in a bun flying in my face. "No. We're going to start talking about this now."

He leans back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Alright. We'll talk."

I mentally roll my eyes. That was his 'I'm Bruce Wayne, owner of Bruce Enterprises and I can fire your ass' voice.

"Who all did you tell?" I ask again.

"Who all did you inform before we found out?" Bruce asks me. I squint my eyes at him.

"I asked you almost the same exact question first. You answer."

He clenches his jaw. "I would prefer if you answered first, actually."

"Oh my god, Bruce, are we really going to start this? Just answer the damn question!" I demand. It's making me suspicious how he's avoiding the question.

His eyes dart to Alfred, who has his back turned to us as he's cooking at the stove, then back to mine. I have my award-winning glare on right now. The one that most people couldn't see because the damn mask was hiding it.

"The only people who know about you are Alfred and I. And the doctors of course."

I let out a mental sigh of relief. "So you didn't tell anyone else? Not, the Justice League, not Barbara, and not Dick?"

"No. I was going to have you come with me when I inform the Justice League, and Dick is coming over later this week. Barbara is at college, and finals are coming up so I wasn't going to deter her until she got out for vacation."

"No."

"Wait, what? Come again?" He asks, leaning forward.

I cross my arms, making sure to keep the cheese wrapper tight in my hand. "I said no. I don't want anyone knowing."

"Okay, now wait, time for you to answer my question. Who did you tell?"

"No one." I say nonchalantly.

He looks flabbergasted. "No one? You didn't tell anyone?"

"No. And I plan on keeping it that way. I only let you know for personal reasons."

Bruce's mouth opens slightly in confusion. "What are you saying?"

I let out a sigh, closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair a little bit. "I meant what I said, Bruce. I don't want anyone knowing. I… Jasmine Wayne is dead." He gets a shocked look on his face, and I even see Alfred stiffen the slightest out of the corner of my eye.

"That part of my life is gone. Robin is dead. Jasmine Wayne is not who I am. I'm not sure who I really am anymore, but I do know this: I can't go back to who I was, and I'm not sure if I want to."

"What do you mean?" Bruce demands, his eyes hardening.

"I mean, I am who I came back as. A monster," He looks like he's going to interject, but I hold up a hand to stop him, "and that's all I'll ever be. I am the Red Hood. I'm not a good person. I have done things that can't be forgiven. I haven't killed, and will try my damndest not to, but things happen. Without the hood on, I am Jasmine Todd, daughter to a crook who abandoned me and got his ass killed because he made a rookie mistake. I'm not going to follow in my father's footsteps, but in reality, I already am."

I uncurl my fist and throw the wrapper on the counter before hopping off the chair. A hand latches around my arm and turns me around, refusing to let go.

"You are not a monster, you haven't killed, and I'm sorry I ever accused you of doing so. You have helped people, you are a hero, and you are good. You're not turning into your father, because I am your father and won't let that happen. You are my daughter and I love you, and am here for you. Jasmine Wayne is not dead, she's just going through things right now." Bruce says, determination clear on his face.

"No, she's not. It's too late. As much as you may not want to think so, it really is too late." He releases my arm and I let it fall to my side. "I trust you won't tell anyone about me."

"….that's your decision. But if you make the wrong one, then yes, I'm telling them. We can help you, Jasmine."

"I don't want nor need your help. I'm an adult. I'm not a little kid anymore." I say stubbornly, and start walking towards my bedroom.

"I know. Trust me, I know." He says, but I just keep walking. I'm not in the mood for his bull shit.

It's only once I'm halfway up the stairwell do I realize something. Bruce said Dick was coming this week. Shit. I don't want him seeing me. I want the smallest amount of people possible to know I'm alive. So, knowing that this won't be an easy thing, I make a decision.

It's time for me to leave.

Again.

I stay in the library for the remainder of the day, reminiscing about my past, and secretly getting my things together to get ready to leave. Alfred has brought food up and set it on the table beside my cubby, but I haven't touched it. I'm not in the mood for eating, and I don't want to over eat.

I haven't seen Bruce since this morning. I cursed myself when I asked Alfred where he went.

"I don't think you'll have to wonder too long about where he went, Madame."

I didn't say anything else.

It's half past ten when I decide to get up and leave. I grab a cinch sack I got out of the closet of my room that's stuffed with clothes and some other personal belongings.

I shut the door behind me, and zip up my familiar cargo jacket. I don't have my helmet, for my spare is still at my old apartment, and as soon as I think of the cursed thing I feel my lip curl.

The hallways are lit up, making it hard for me to sneak down to other places, so I just walk calmly in hopes I don't make too much sound. When I hear a small cough from the door on my left, I stiffen before slipping through the door on my right.

I peer through a crack and see Alfred step out and shut a door behind him, coughing into a handkerchief. A pang of sadness overcomes me when I realize just how old he really is, and how easy it now is for him to get sick.

And how I might not be able to be there for him when—

No. Not thinking about that.

I step back out into the hallway towards Bruce's office. He isn't in there, and I pray that once I get to the bat cave that he isn't down there either. I don't want to have to deal with him. This has to be it.

I press the keys on the old piano and watch with nostalgia as the door slides open. My fingers trace the wall as I walk down the steps. My cargo pants rustle quietly as the weapons concealed inside move. I'm hoping that after however long I've been here that nobody has touched my bike and moved it.

Thankfully, I was right. No one has touched it. There are a few weeds that are starting to get too attached to it, but other than that and a few dirt stains, it's still fine. Checking the gas tank, I make sure I have enough fuel to get me to the next town before slinging my leg over the seat and starting it up.

I ride for a good hour before pulling over and parking in front of a secluded hotel. It reads "Gothem Inn". Which, might I say, is quite the stereotypical name here in Gotham. Everything everywhere has a name that has something 'Gotham' in it.

It's nice on the inside, not too expensive looking, but also homey. There's a bed placed conveniently on the one side of the room, with the couch and other furniture placed respectively on the other side.

I sigh and slump down onto my couch, leaning my head back and resting it on the head rest. I feel my body want to go to sleep, but I refuse, knowing I'll never sleep comfortably in these clothes.

Forcing myself to my feet, I get up and trudge to the part of the room with the bed. Facing sideways on the edge of it is a dresser where I know I have many different pairs of clothes, though most of them resemble my customary cargo pants and spandex shirt. I never wanted my employees to see me in anything else.

Speaking of which, I need to take care of them before I leave completely. Things are probably way too out of control right now, since it's been close to a month since my last check in. I need to gather them all together one last time and make sure they get out of the business for good. Then I can leave with an almost clear conscience.

Just as I open the dresser drawer, I hear a gust of wind behind me. Knowing someone has broken into my room, I casually grip the handle of the gun hidden under the clothes in my dresser before whirling around and aiming it at them. When I see who it is, my grip wavers for a moment before returning with full force.

"What are you doing here?" The words come out of my mouth through clenched teeth.

"I knew you would do this."

"Do what?"

"Leave. Try to escape once and for all. It's not going to work this time, Jasmine." Bruce stands from his crouched position on the floor. He stands tall in his Batman uniform, looking all the usual intimidating that is 'him'.

"And who gets to say what I can and can't do?" I ask too nicely, forcing a smile onto my face.

"I do. Your father. You know it."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." I say, the smile slipping from my face. "That man died many years ago with Robin."

God, what is wrong with me. It seems the only time I seem to want to be around Bruce is when I'm dying or something; but once I'm all better and fine, then I don't want him near me. It's like my teenage years all over again.

It's like my teenage years all over again. That's it. My subconscious must want the father figure back in my life. It must be why when I'm ill or dying, I want him near me. I want him to fix everything. But when I'm better, and healed, I know he can't fix me, and I don't want him near me.

"Since I'm more in my right mind right now than I have been in a long time, let me just say this and hope you know I'm being serious: I. Am. Leaving."

A snarl graces the corner of Bruce's lips, just going to prove what I already knew, that he would be pissed. "No. I'm not losing you again."

"You were never this way when Dick left! Forget it Bruce! I'm already gone! Deep down you already knew that as soon as I showed up I would be gone again."

"Dick never died!" Bruce yells.

A silence as thick as snot stretched between us. I take in a shaky breath.

"Shut. Up." My words are unstable, but the point comes across. Bruce thinks to himself for a moment, eyes not quite meeting mine until he gets his thoughts straightened out.

"You can't stop me from leaving."

"Watch me." His stance straightens, getting ready to block me.

"What are you going to do; fight me?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, that last battle we had kind of canceled that out, don't you think?" I say, a forced laugh escaping my lips.

His jaw clenches and unclenches beneath the lining of his mask. "You're coming back with me, and we're going to get you help."

I sigh, and turn back to face my dresser drawer, searching for what I know is down in there. Once I find the small red box, I pull it out and place it in the palm of my hand. Turning back to Bruce, I show it to him.

"You see what this is?" He stares at me. "This is a piece of me." I press the button on the bottom of the box and watch in a half-annoyed way as it unfolds to create the form of one of my dreaded helmets. I pull my wild hair up into a bun and slip the helmet over top of my head, letting out a sound that's a mixture of relaxation because I'm once again the Red Hood, but also sadness because I'm once again the Red Hood.

"That is not who you are! I know that now!" Bruce yells, bringing a fist up and slamming it into the wall beside him. I frown, but of course he can't see that.

"Hey now, I've still got this room for another three hours. I'm not paying for that."

He ignores my little comment and starts stomping towards me, but not before I go and stand in front of the window that leads to the fire escape. "Or I could just ignore that I still have this room for three hours and leave right now."

He stops moving, opening his mouth like he wants to say something before shutting it once again.

"Face it Bruce," I sigh, "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not your little girl anymore. She died a long time ago, and she's never coming back. It would be in your best interest if you just let me alone so we could just live out own lives now."

"No."

Now it's getting annoying. Why can't he just accept the fact that I'm leaving?

"Bruce-"

"No."

I frown. Carefully moving my hand behind me so he can't see my actions, I unlock the window and start inching it upwards. "Dammit Bruce! Would you just accept this one thing for once! You can't always fix everything!"

"It doesn't mean I'm not going to try!" He yells back, and damn it all, the window squeaks halfway up and gives it away what I'm doing. A dark look over comes his eyes and he starts marching towards me, a determined look in his eye.

Without second guessing it, I jump out of the window backwards. My back crashes through the glass, causing shards of the clear thing to fly everywhere, some even making scratches on the visor of my helmet.

I land on my back on the fire escape grates, a grunt being forced out of my mouth. I quickly get to my feet as Bruce climbs out of the window behind me. I brace my hands on the railing and swing my body over it, landing on the lid of the dumpster below me. I go into a roll and stumble to my feet on the cement of the alley. I'm not completely healed yet, and shouldn't even be doing this much physical exertion.

Knowing that he'll be behind me in just a moment, I start running. My arms pump furiously by my side as my leg muscles stretch and pull with every stride. I reach the end of the alley and take a sharp right, almost running into two people in the process. I push between them, not bothering to yell an apology as I hear them make rude remarks to me.

I glance behind me and don't see Bruce anywhere, but I know he's following. Looking up at the top of the building beside me, my thoughts are confirmed. Almost blending in completely to the dark of the night, I see his figure racing across the rooftops, his face looking down at me every once in a while to make sure he can see me.

Knowing that I'll have to blend with the people in order to lose him, I quickly formulate a plan. There's a crowd of people standing down at the entrance of the gentleman's club down the street, and if I can get the helmet off and put away, I can crouch down and hide myself in among the other people.

I cross the street, barely missing a taxi headed straight for me. Its horn blares, but I ignore it and turn to see Bruce shooting out his grapnel towards the top of the building to the left of me, but I once again go right.

Taking my chance, I burst through the door to an old magic shop and shove my way past the customers inside to the bathroom. Once inside, I make sure the door is locked and quickly press the button on the back of my helmet, causing the locking mechanisms to go off. I pull it off my head and shake my hair free of the messy bun it had been in. Pressing the circular button on the top of the helmet this time, I watch as it retracts into the same little box it had originally been in. I shove the small box in my pocket (silently thanking whoever out there that I could finally take it off) and open the bathroom door.

The people inside the shop don't pay any attention to me as I stroll straight for the door. I shove my hands in my pockets and keep my head down as I try to act invisible.

"Hey! Hey, you!" Someone shouts, causing me to jerk my head up and look for the source of sound that is drawing attention to my position. A short man behind a counter with a funny hat on is fuming, his arms crossed against his chest. "You need to buy something in order to be able to use that bathroom!"

I roll my eyes, moving towards the door once again.

"I said you have to buy something!" He shouts once more, louder this time than before. I snarl, my upper lip curling. I turn blazing eyes towards him and he chokes back another yell that was going to erupt from his mouth.

I move swiftly up to the desk until I'm straight across from him. I reach over the counter and grab the lapels of his puke green jacket in one hand and pull his face closer to mine, until I feel his putrid breath on my face.

"Listen here, Mad Hatter," I say through clenched teeth, earning a few chuckles out of the customers from the nickname, "I will do what I damn well please, and I don't have to buy any of your cheap-ass knock offs. Got it? Good." I throw him away from me and watch as he scrambles to find purchase on the stool he had been sitting on. He nods his head and gulps, the action causing his Adams apple to bob up and down. Nodding my head back, I once more shove my hands in my pockets and walk out of the store, hearing people laugh at the tiny man behind my back.

The bell on the door jingles as it shuts behind me, and I keep my head down as my feet move in the direction of the gentleman's club less than 100 feet in front of me. A cold wind blows across the street, momentarily lifting the hair up from my face, but I quickly pull it back down and pull the collars of my coat up around my neck.

Nearly bumping into people multiple times, I finally reach my safe point. Dozens of men and women alike are surrounding me, all waiting to get into the famous alcoholic and borderline pornographic bar. Risking giving my position away, I look up and see if I can spot the dark knight. It takes a couple of seconds, but I finally spot him running across a rooftop away from me, his actions hurried and frantic, almost. His black cape disappears over the edge of a building and then he's gone.

I smile to myself. He's gone. I've finally lost him. Now I can get going with my business and… leave.

No. I'm not starting this now. I'm not hurt or anything, so why do I want Bruce around? Why do I want him to come back, find me, and take me back home?

I pinch my forearm lightly. Wake up. You don't need that. You don't need him. What you need, is to leave.

I lift my head up and close my eyes for a moment, letting the rays from the moon paint across my face. When I open my eyes again, I nearly choke.

No fucking way.

Swallowing hard, I stumble for a moment as I try to turn around and accidentally bump into a man. His rotund belly softens the blow, and a stuttered apology leaks from my lips as I walk around him. Once I break out of the throng of people, I try my best to stop the shaking in my hands and feign calm as I walk down the street and towards Crime Alley. Once I round the corner and enter the alley, I press my back against the wall, resting my head against the cold bricks and releasing a sigh.

Peering around the edge, I see no sight of being followed. That was too close.

Knowing that getting out of here as Jasmine Todd will be nearly impossible now, I once more pull out the small red box and get my helmet ready. Pulling my hair up into another quick bun with shaky hands, I pull the red piece of metal over my head and let out a deep breath.

I scale the building, easily climbing the fire escape. Once I reach the top of the building, I swing my legs up and over and onto the gravel of the roof. Balancing on one hand, I stand up and look around. It seems like I'm alone, but knowing him, I'll be found eventually.

Lets see… If I go straight across the rooftops from here, then I'll eventually reach the outskirts of the city and be in the general direction of Metropolis…

At least I think so. I only traveled there a couple of times with Bruce, and the first time was when we gave an interview to the Daily Planet on Gotham Prince's new child. That was a long time ago. A long time to me, anyway.

Shaking my head of these thoughts, I lightly press my fingertips against the outside rim of the visor on my helmet. Spots of technology pop up in front of my face, but not so much that they block my vision. A general map of Gotham is on the right side of the screen, and on the left there is a box that will show me the sound waves of cops talking if they choose to get on their communication radios. It's what helped me to know where and when Bruce would be away from my position when I was first getting everything organized for the main meeting.

The little triangle on the map represents me and my current standing. I'm just outside of Crime Alley, and I can see that I was correct in my assumption of direction. If I go straight across these rooftops then I will be nearing Hudson Bay, and then metropolis. It will take me a couple of hours to get there, but I'll manage.

I release a breath and then start running. My boots crunch on the gravel underneath my feet as my arms pump hard at my sides. The ledge of the building I'm currently on comes up quick, and I easily parkour off it and onto the next building roof. Taking the landing and turning it into a roll, I land back on my feet, not breaking my stride.

This time the map on my screen shows how if I go to the right on that building instead, then I won't have to cut though the garbage dock at the Hudson. Deciding that I'd rather not smell like shit those long hours, I decide to follow it. It takes me only a second to adjust my speed when I see I'm going to have to jump a little farther. Picking up my legs faster, I step on the ledge and push off on my legs, feeling the muscles tighten and expand as they strain. I hold my hands out and grasp the rungs to the ladder of the building when I get near it, my body slamming into the wall as well. I almost lose my grip as the breath gets knocked out of me, but I quickly get it under control.

Scaling that building the same as the first, I don't pause when I reach the top and continue running. In about another three miles, I'll be out of the center of Gotham. A sense of relief washes over me at this realization, and I let a smirk fall on my face.

The edge of another building is coming up once more, and I start adjusting again… when he shows up.

"Stop!" He says in his deep voice. I skid to a halt on the roof, my body taking on a defensive position. I really, really, really, didn't want to have to deal with this tonight, or, well, at all.

I don't say a word, instead choosing to clench and unclench my fists at my side. I get ready to grab a bat-a-rang when I realize: I left my stuff in the apartment. Fucking Bruce Wayne came along and I had to leave with all my things left behind.

He lifts a hand to his ear, probably pressing on a communication device. "I have him in my sights, Batman." He speaks confidently, completely different from his other identity.

God, I could've killed for some kryptonite when he said 'Batman'.

I snarl quietly, but with his super hearing it doesn't go amiss. He slowly lowers his hand and fixes a glare on me. He straightens his back even more (if that's even humanly possible… But then again he's not human) and I vaguely see his leg muscles tense, as if he's preparing to leap.

Yup. I definitely want some kryptonite right now.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" He questions me.

I contemplate answering him for a second, but then remember my voice is disguised in the helmet so he won't know me anyways. "No one you need to worry about."

"I am going to worry about it when you start messing with crime in Gotham City."

"You're not Batman, this isn't your turf."

"Batman called me in for a little assistance in acquiring a… Red Hood. So, it is my business."

I roll my eyes. Of course that's why he's here. Bruce just had to go and get the alien in on this.

"Just leave me alone and everything will be fine." I say lowly, trying to persuade him to let me go. I should've figured it wouldn't work.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that. If you attempt to leave, then I will use force to restrain you."

I laugh inside my head. If little Clarky over there hurt me, Bruce would get the kryptonite out himself and stab it in the stupid son of a bitch.

Nodding my head like I give up, I sag my shoulders a little bit, playing the part. He seems to believe it for a second, and when he once more raises his hand to his ear, I make my move.

The last thing I see as I fall over the edge of the building is his surprised face.