So we're going to start to see days passing just a little more quickly now that it's not crucial to fill out an entire day with what happened every hour. Prior a lot had been happening and in short amounts of time, so while it takes me forever to get all this posted, the past several chapters have all happening in about week's time. I'll step away from that a little more. I really hope you guys like this chapter. Thanks for the support!
March 10th
Wayne Manor
0256hrs
Dick sat in the kitchen with this bowl of cereal and bit at his bottom lip. He could feel Alfred watching him, feel his gentle eyes demanding that he say what was weighing on his mind. Honestly, Dick wanted to talk about it too, but he was scared. Scared of what he'd seen in the hospital, scared of what he'd seen his Jason do to the men and women that got in his way.
"Jim Gordon told 'JT' to let Harvey have his life back. That it was time to end the ruse," Dick finally whispered. "Do you think…?"
"Yes." Alfred answered when it must have become obvious that he was too scared to finish his thought and question. "I suspected it the first time I heard about it. Particularly when they claimed they'd been together even when he was seeing you."
"Why? Why would they both do that?" Dick continued, trying not to feel guilty that he was having this discussion. Really, Dick should be disgusted and frightened of what Jason had done that night. He shouldn't be so damned focused on the possibility that this entire time Jason and Harvey had only been pretending. "I hit Harvey, Alfred. He didn't hint even once that he wasn't really with Jason."
"Honestly, Master Grayson, I don't know," Alfred frowned.
"So then how did you suspect it?"
"Because Jason loves you," Alfred answered simply. "It's not in his personality to be…unfaithful."
Dick's eyes widened at the comment. "He kills people."
"To protect others," the old butler pointed out. "Master Grayson, Jason Todd has many flaws. He's manipulative, he's violent, angry, and dangerous. He has a tendency to lie when he's in trouble and he is almost always plotting the demise of someone who wronged him."
"Okay, and?" Dick frowned as he finally forced himself to poor some milk in the cereal and begin to eat.
"And he's incredibly loyal. A man, even a young one like him, would not have cheated on you after spending years devoted to you."
"He had a hell of a break," Dick frowned before taking a bite. "What makes you think he wasn't getting all warped and twisted from… whatever happened to him? Maybe this is all just a big giant revenge fantasy finally being played out."
"Did I mention his impatience." Alfred had the nerve to smile. "We've all witnessed it. When he's about to finally achieve what he wants, he can't hold himself back. He rushes in and finishes it before he can savor it. Especially when it comes to killing people. Is that not what happened to The Butcher?"
As much as Dick hated that they were having this conversation, he couldn't help but be grateful for it. He shouldn't have been talking so casually about Jason. Shouldn't have been entertaining the tiny hope inside of him that Jason and Harvey were not together and had never been together, let alone that he hadn't actually been cheated on.
"He'll never change," Alfred warned. "He may settle down a bit, he may not always be so quick to kill, but he will not change."
"I know that," Dick sighed.
"Do you? Because if you were to pursue any kind of relationship with him. You, Tim, Bruce or Barbara; it wouldn't matter. If you attempt to bring him back into your lives on any level but that of your enemy, you will have to accept what he is." Alfred continued his warning. His pale blue eyes appearing morose and even a little scared.
"I don't even know how I want him in my life," Dick admitted. "Just that I do."
"Master Grayson, what you and Bruce in particular have to determine is, can you forgive Jason Todd and ask his forgiveness in return?"
Dick frowned and put down his spoon full of soggy marshmallow cereal. "Wait, I have to ask his forgiveness?"
"That you are even questioning it proves you are not ready to make this decision, Master Grayson." Alfred frowned. "Let him be. Stop chasing him, stop trying to capture him. Just let him be until you are prepared to face him."
"But Alfred, you heard Bruce. No way he's going to let Jason slip through his fingers while he tries to 'sort' things out."
"You are not Master Bruce." Alfred smirked. "He has his own ways he needs to handle this situation, and I've no doubt that when he goes after Jason, he will be prepared to forgive and ask forgiveness."
"I'm not saying Bruce is a bad man, but we both know he's a cold man." Dick frowned. "How can you have so much faith in him doing the right thing by Jason?"
Alfred was quiet for such a long time, that Dick wasn't sure he'd ever answer. He was just starting to gather up his bowl to slurp down the milk, when Alfred finally sighed. "I don't have faith that he will do right by Jason," the older man admitted quietly. "But, I have faith that he will do right by himself and in the end, I believe they will be one in the same."
Dick stared incredulously at the butler. He shook his head. "Well, you have more of that faith than I do, I guess."
"I've known Master Bruce long enough to know that he is not in fact a cold man, that he feels very deeply and very passionately." Alfred smiled gently. "He's stern and to the world he presents as a stoic protector, but never doubt that he is a warm, loving man."
He supposed he wasn't being fair, but then he also knew that Bruce preferred people to think that he was cold and without emotion. It made him more frightening and intimidating. It also allowed him to make decisions that would kill Dick to make. Could anyone really blame Dick, or anyone who knew both sides of the man, for thinking of him in such a way?
"Well, I'd best be off to bed, Master Grayson." Alfred announced as he started to step away from the kitchen counter. "Do be a good lad and put your dish in the sink after rinsing it out?"
"Of course," Dick nodded and smiled back at him.
Dick put the bowl to his lips and noisily drank down the milk. Then he realized that Alfred was still standing in the doorway, his old fading blue eyes looking at him fondly. "Yeah?"
"Just remember, you don't have to make any decisions you don't want to first thing in the morning. Let your emotions settle. Let this day settle within you first." Alfred advised. "Don't forget to enjoy your life, Master Grayson. It's not a very long one and the majority of us will never get the chance to come back and give it another try."
March 10th
2152hrs
Dick's Condo
"You need to be careful, Dick," Roy tried to warn as he sat at the make shift consul they'd set up the day before. "Bruce kicked me out. I can't use his systems, and my shit isn't set up for Gotham."
"We'll be fine." Dick shrugged, but there was a tension in the acrobat that Roy wasn't used to seeing.
It felt like one of those nights where anything that could go wrong, would. It was killing Roy he couldn't be out there with him. That they couldn't just set up shop with the Boy Wonder out in Kansas, hits the streets, and go kick some ass together.
He scowled at his leg, as if the pressure of that stare could get it working properly again. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even Dick, but he was terrified of what his life was going to become. Of everything he would miss out on because he couldn't have the back of his dearest friends. Trying not to be bitter, he pulled the ball cap off his head so that he could run the fingers of his free hand through his red locks.
"You need a haircut," Dick joked as he walked into his bedroom.
"You're one to talk!" Roy shouted to his friend. The exhibitionist didn't bother shutting the door behind him as he changed out of his street clothes and into his Nightwing suit. "Doesn't the GCPD have some kind of dress code!"
Dick smirked. "Yeah, actually. I really need to get my hair trimmed, but for now, I'm suspended." He shrugged as if that absolved him of all grooming practices.
"Look, Dick, there's something we should talk about," Roy tried as he stared at one of the monitors anxiously. Any minute now he just knew that The Red Hood would come over his comms and start demanding shit from him. He couldn't keep it a secret from his best friend any longer.
"Yeah, yeah. After I get back, okay?" Dick was already tugging on a small rope down the hallway between the living room and the bedrooms. It was his private access to the roof. The whole reason for purchasing this particular condominium. Dick started to climb and then paused. "Unless it's important?"
"Define important." Roy rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that when a Bat chose to leave, nothing was going to delay them but life and death. Roy's conscience didn't really stack up against those conditions and he knew it. "No man, we'll talk tomorrow or something."
"Okay, and hey, if things get really bad just reach out to Tim. He'll help you get whatever you need," Dick smiled before disappearing up the wooden ladder.
Roy looked at his computer and took a deep breath. He honestly didn't know what they should expect after the rampage Jason had gone on the night before. Dick seemed in a much better mood, so that was a great way to start, but what about Todd? What if he was still angry and still out for blood? Would Dick try to bring him in?
Could Dick bring him in?
He released the breath and then put his head phones on and turned on the mic. "Alright, Nightwing, let's go find some baddies."
2342hrs
Gotham General
Jason Todd stared at the screen before him, his eyes focusing on the three words that awaited an answer. He was sitting on the recliner beside Harvey's bed, his laptop assuming it's natural position and his swollen, aching hands hovered over the keyboard. He swallowed hard in the darkness of the room, the only light coming from the harsh glow of his screen.
His fingers didn't want to move independently, stiff as they were from the excess inflammation and bruising. Besides, he wasn't sure what he should say. Why was the question asked to begin with? Was it truly that simple? Could he take the question at face value? Or was there another angle?
He shook his head and closed his throbbing eyes. There was always another angle. Another reason for seemingly innocent questions. An ulterior motive behind every action. The man didn't give a shit, not about Jason nor Harvey. That was evident. Evident in the callousness of it all. If he'd really cared, if he'd really wanted to know if Jason was "alright" he would be at that fucking hospital checking for himself.
With a bitter growl, he slammed the lap top closed, ignoring the request for information. Information that would be used against Jason. That could be used to lock him up or turn him in.
Fuck Bruce Wayne.
He felt a vibration and halfway hoping, half fearing it was Bruce trying again, he immediately pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He tried not to focus too heavily on the disappointment he felt as he saw the test message was from Roy.
You on the streets, yet? If so, avoid Main street. Nightwing's on it.
He closed his eyes as he pocketed the cell phone. He was aching everywhere, but especially in that chestal region where emotions lie dormant. Or in his case, active and churning at the moment. He couldn't be out there. Not right now. Not when he was so fucked in the head and in the body. He'd get himself killed. He'd get Dick killed.
Just keep Nightwing out of danger.
He pocketed the phone and stared into the darkness. It was hard to admit it on most days or nights, but he was tired. No, tired wasn't nearly strong enough an expression, but he couldn't think clearly, and he just didn't feel like thinking.
He closed his eyes and shut out the rest of the world.
March 11th
0057hrs
Gotham Skyline Along Main Street
Nightwing rolled, barely avoiding a shot. His heart raced with adrenaline and fear. If he hadn't moved in time, he'd be dead. It had been like that for the past three hours with several other nameless assailants. Roy had been scrambling, he could hear it over the speaker, as he tried to find him information on several of the thugs who'd come out to play.
It felt as if a great shuddering were taking place in the heart of Gotham City's underworld. The criminal element had risen up against the violent ways of the Red Hood and in one voice said, "No more." Criminals from different gangs were working together. Maybe not for the first time, but certainly with more gusto than ever before.
Worse, they weren't going after the civilians. Hell, they weren't technically going after him, either. More like, watching for him and any other 'cape'. They were firing first, too. No questions, no threats, just gunshots ringing out where Nightwing landed.
Another shot hit the concrete barrier he was hiding behind. He grabbed the escrima sticks off his thighs and took a deep breath. He listened carefully for the tell-tale sounds of the lone gunman reloading. He tried his best to keep count of bullets fired from hand guns throughout the night, but he wasn't always accurate and he didn't want to risk his life on a miscount.
He felt a spark of intuition and turned, slamming his weapon into the side of the man who had tried sneaking up on him from behind. The electric charge dropped the 'baddie' like a sack of potatoes. Nightwing stood to his full height cautiously. When more bullets didn't fly, he carefully kicked the gun out of the unconscious man's hand and placed his own sticks back in their holsters.
"You alright?" Arsenal asked over the line.
"Oh, yeah," He nodded as he restrained and handcuffed the man to a water pipe. "Just leaving another present for the GCPD."
"You sure you wanna keep going?" Arsenal asked softly.
For the first time in Dick's life, he was afraid of being out there fighting crime. Afraid of dying and what that would mean to his small, but precious family. What would it do to Batman, losing a second partner? What would it do to Bruce after his declaration that he would never again bury one of his Robins? Alfred would be devastated, but he believed the old man would get through it okay. Tim? Tim wouldn't cope well at all. Jason, he couldn't think about.
Wouldn't think about.
While it wasn't in him to quit, it wasn't in him to lose either. And dying? Dying would definitely count as losing. Especially since he was pretty sure that there wouldn't be a horrifically miraculous resurrection as there had been for Jay.
With a heavy heart and a guilty conscience, Nightwing called out to Arsenal. "I'm coming back in. If you don't see me in fifteen minutes, send a search party."
March 12th
Gotham General
1545hrs
Jason slouched in the chair, staring in boredom at the television set hanging in the corner of the hospital room. It was some digitally animated show for children featuring the typical animal companions, a princess that wasn't really a princess, a return to musical numbers that had been absent in most of the Disney films he'd seen before dying. The generic girl power statement appeared to be the popular choice still, not to mention the big idiot that would be fucking lost without her.
He glanced over at Harvey. The detective was resting after an intense interrogation from Internal Affairs. A couple other detectives from the station had been there, too. His union rep had left shortly after it all finished –the fucker had given Harvey the stink-eye throughout – pretending like he was on Harvey's side. Acting as though no one had seen his dour look.
Jason had. Jason had seen the way they all looked at Harvey and then at himself. There was a twenty-year age difference at least. Possibly twenty and change. They thought Harvey was disgusting or 'JT' had some major daddy issues. If they only knew the half of it. He'd kept quiet, though. It was more important that he be there for Harv than it was for him to shout and rage at them for thinking unkindly of his friend.
Jim had been the most irritated, since he didn't understand why they were continuing to lie.
A nurse came in interrupting his thoughts. Not just any nurse, though. Pamela Barnes. The one from the first night with the ornery tech. The same nurse who at first had looked horrified and embarrassed to find that Harvey had a boyfriend and not a son. She was still a pretty lady who came in often, but lately appeared anxious.
"How's he doing?" she asked, eyeing Jason the same way a couple of the cops had hours prior, like he had no business being there.
"Good as anyone who's been shot, I guess." He shrugged, trying not to take her truly stupid question so personally. He was lucky Harvey was sleeping or the older man would've–
"Ouch!"
He rubbed the back of his head, shocked to see Harvey awake and glaring at him. "Quit being an ass, JT," Harvey rasped out, looking groggy.
"I'm sorry, I was just checking on him." She frowned.
"Well, do what you gotta do and get out," Jason snapped before looking back at the television just in time to see a large body of water assisting the not-princess. "Wait, so the whole fucking ocean is her friend, too? For fuck's sake!"
He ignored the way Nurse Barnes stared at him. He'd seen it before. People always thought he was crazy when he yelled at the TV. To be fair, he'd been doing that since he'd been capable of watching TV and talking at the same time. It used to drive Alfred and Bruce nuts. The only person who didn't seem to mind was Dick. Probably because he did it, too.
"Leaving or returning, Pam?" Harvey muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Returning," 'Pam' answered softly.
Jason looked over at them and glared petulantly like a boyfriend should. Really, though, he was watching her closely. Something about Nurse Barnes just didn't feel right. She always looked so desperate to please Harvey or to be close to him. Desperation in Gotham almost always meant one thing. Especially when it came to civil servants or healthcare professionals.
So, who had Nurse Pamela Barnes in their pocket and why?
"Trying to watch the Polynesian Not- Princess, princess save the world, thanks," he muttered, only to be popped in the back of the head again. He shot a scowl at Harvey. "That's really irritating."
"Just like you," Harvey grumbled. "Don't you need a smoke break or something?"
"As badly as you," Jason replied.
"You look like you could use a break," the nurse smiled pleasantly toward him.
With a quirked black brow, Jason stared at the woman like she'd lost her mind. When Harvey glared pointedly back at him, Jason turned back to the television. "No thanks, Babe. I'm trying to cut back."
"You sure?" Harvey asked, looking a little confused. "You were bitching about food the whole time the Department was here. Why don't you go get some chili dogs?"
"Oh, that sounds yummy. Much better than hospital food," Pam agreed eagerly. "Our cafeteria isn't nearly up to your standards, I'm sure. But there is a diner near-by that makes some very delicious food."
This time when the nurse spoke, Jason glanced back, his teal eyes finding Harvey's. Thankfully, the woman's aggressively phony behavior caught Harvey's attention, as well. While she was looking at Jason pleadingly, Harvey eyed her in suspicion. The detective's eyes returned to Jason and he nodded.
"Actually, I ordered in about ten minutes ago." Jason shrugged with an easy lie. "You done yet? I mean, it's nice that you're taking such good care of him and all, but he's had a hard day and I'd like him to get some more rest."
Blushing and clearly flustered as she fumbled with the dry erase marker, Nurse Pam scrawled her messy assessment of Harvey's vitals on the board beside his bed. She didn't speak as she left, but she did glance back at the detective, some bit of yearning in her eyes.
Too bad it was a yearning for trouble or Jason was sure his friend would have been flattered.
Jason got up quickly and closed the door behind her and pulled out his burner phone. He didn't like how paranoid he was, and he certainly didn't like Harvey being that way either, but this was Gotham. You didn't survive unless you were paranoid.
He pulled up his text messages and grinned to himself. After that shitty night a couple days ago, he'd changed Roy's contact name from Arsenal to Pin Cushion. It was needlessly mean, but for some reason it felt right. Like even Roy would be angrily amused to see it.
Since that sex trafficking thing is clearly on hold, do a check and find out how many hits are out for JT Bennet, Harvey Bullock, the Waynes and The Red Hood.
Also, find out if Deathstroke is still in town.
Lord knew he didn't need to be worrying about that psycho coming after Harvey. The deal was made for himself and the Waynes, but there were no guarantees on anyone else's lives. Someone must have wanted Harvey dead, but who? Black Mask was six feet under, so who cared about some GCPD detective?
His phone vibrated for his attention.
Is there anything else Master wishes? Perhaps I should run home and draw you a bath or prepare you a chili dog?
He smirked and quickly responded.
Such a good boy, aren't you? No bath necessary. Grab the chili dogs from the diner down the street. It's waiting under the name Red. We're in room 221. Gotham General.
I don't know why I bother with you.
Jason snickered as he read the text to himself and then quickly shot off his reply.
Neither do I. You'd think you'd learn.
"Can't stay up here forever, Kid," Harvey said after a moment. "Go take a break. I'll be fine."
"Fat chance." Jason shook his head as he pocketed the cell phone. "Besides, it would literally take forever and a fucking day to find a place that smoking is even permitted on the premises."
Harvey chuckled tiredly. "Yeah, that's true. You'd have to leave campus."
"See!" Jason exclaimed. "You're just stuck with me, Old Man."
"Fuck, and I thought I was the paranoid one," Harvey smiled, but closed his eyes once more, drifting off to sleep within seconds.
Once Jason ordered a half dozen chili dogs, he returned to the show and turned up the volume. His eyes darted to the door anytime a shadow passed. He couldn't concentrate as he thought more and more about the anonymous tech and Nurse Pam or Barnes or whatever. He might have been overreacting, but honestly, neither he, nor Harvey apparently, were willing to take that chance.
When the movie ended he flipped channels until he landed on M.A.S.H. reruns. Finding it somewhat ironic to be watching a hospital show in a hospital, Jason couldn't bring himself to search any further. He checked his phone at every commercial, waiting impatiently to eat and maybe even smoke.
Finally, Roy arrived.
"Fuck, it took you long enough," Jason snapped as the door opened.
Roy glared angrily at Jason as he tried to hang on to his lone crutch on the left side and the bag of food on his right. He nearly tossed it all on the ground and turned around right then and there.
Why had he come out again? He should have been back at Dick's apartment, waiting on a friend rather than running errands for "Red".
"Fuck you, JT. You're lucky I'm here at all," he snarled back. With Jason, the only way to survive was to give back as good as you got. "You better have ordered me food, too, or I swear I'll kill you right here and now."
"Ease up there, Roy. My boyfriend might take you seriously."
Roy nearly threw up in his mouth at the thought. Still, he turned and looked at the snoring man. The most cynical detective of Gotham hadn't even budged.
"Traitor," Jason accused the unconscious man.
Roy looked around the room and finding a discarded tray near an empty chair, did his best to get to it. He set the food bag down on the tray and then limp-crutched his way over to an empty chair next to Harvey's bed. "I can keep an eye on him if you want. You look a little twitchy."
Jason looked rough, like he was tired and stressed, but he also looked anxious and in need of a cigarette or a drink. He almost felt sorry for him.
The younger shook his head as he walked over to the bag of food. "How many contracts?"
"For him?" Roy grimaced as he tilted his head toward Harvey. "At least four."
"From who?" Jason asked as he started pulling out three Styrofoam boxes of chili dogs. He seemed completely unconcerned with the fact that a Gotham City Detective was mere inches away while they discussed some very illegal and very secret activities.
"What if he hears?" Roy whispered.
He wasn't at all pleased when instead of answering, Jason fell silent. Teal eyes focused on the floor instead of on him, and Roy couldn't help but worry that there was something more going on. When wasn't there with the fucking Bat family? Why, why was he here?
Jason in particular treated Roy like absolute shit, and Batman had definitely made good on his threat. All the work Roy was doing for 'The Red Hood' was now being completed on his own personal network. On occasion he linked into Ollie's but for the most part, he stuck to his own systems and information networks.
There was no reason Roy had to trust him. No reason why he should be taking the abuse of a man who, at the moment, seemed to despise the entire world. Jason Todd was a fuck up and an asshole. So why was Roy taking it? Why was he allowing himself to be used by him?
There was a voice in the back of his head of late, not the one that used to drown out his attempts at sobriety, but a different one. One that said he was tired of being the black sheep in his group of friends. Of being the angry one, or the 'bad' one. It was a voice that said that maybe, just maybe, Jason understood how much it sucked being measured up to truly phenomenal heroes like Nightwing and Kid Flash. To know that no matter what you did, they could probably have done it faster, with fewer injuries, or just plain better.
Too bad Jason would never trust Roy enough to realize that. Maybe he should back off. Maybe it was time to get out of this mess before it cost him more than Batgirl and Batman's disapproval. Yeah. He'd give Jason the information he needed and then he'd get out. He'd tell him. Tell him that he couldn't be the lesser of two evils in a duo of black sheep.
"He knows I'm The Red Hood," Jason whispered.
Roy blinked in surprise, and then he dropped his jaw. Had Jason really just trusted him with that? WHY? He shook his head and then it sunk in. Trusting Roy was a big deal, but not near as big of a deal as the confession itself. How could he? How could he have betrayed them all?
"What the fuck, Jay?" Roy whispered angrily. "Who–
"Shut your fucking mouth right now, and listen to me," Jason growled through his teeth, and once again, Roy wanted nothing more than to punch the prick. "It is my secret to tell and it is only my secret to tell. Do you get me?"
Glaring, Roy did his best to listen to what he was being told. It wasn't just Jason's secret, though! It was everyone's! Didn't he realize the danger he'd put his supposed friend in? The danger he'd put them all in? Boy was Batman going to flip when…Wait. Roy thought about it. Jason said 'only my secret to tell.'
"Only your secret," he repeated with a new emphasis. Jason didn't correct him, and he slowly felt a little better. "Yeah, okay, I get it. And when he wakes up?"
"I'll tell him the truth about you helping me out. He doesn't need to know anything else." Jason shrugged and handed one of the boxes over to Roy along with plastic cutlery held in a sealed clear baggy.
"Because that would by mine to tell?" Roy asked in clarification as he accepted both the food and Jason's nod. Okay, this he could work with. "Cool."
Jason grabbed one of the boxes and silverware for himself. "So, what about the others I asked you for? How many contracts on them?"
"Quite a few, actually. They had been trickling in before. You know how it is." He let Jason nod before continuing. "Well, after Roman Sionis was officially declared, the whole fucking underground has just blown up in some ways and literally gone dark in others."
It had been frightening over the past forty-eight hours. He'd been dispatching for Nightwing since he was staying at his apartment, and he knew for a fact his best friend had nearly been shot on seven different occasions the night after Red Hood's carnage. Ironically, when Dick decided not to go out the next night, or rather last night, neither had anyone else. Not a single crime beyond the typical vandalism or domestic violence complaint had been filed.
Still, that wasn't a good thing.
"Lotta theories, of course," Roy paused once more and looked to Harvey. The man was definitely out. Still, everyone was different and who knew if their conversations could filter into the man's dreams. He had to word this carefully if Jason was telling the truth. "The Bats have sent out warnings to the police and even a few informants that the crime lords are gonna go deep under. That they'll stay low while they hire ambitious outsiders to come in and take out The Red Hood and anyone associated with him."
"Fuck," Jason sighed, still holding his own box of food. Maybe the stress was killing his appetite, too.
"Yeah. JT Bennet is in just as much danger as ever since The Red Hood has apparently come to his aid twice, now. That includes Bullock, the Waynes for helping you, and one of them for dating you. It's all kinds of bad, JT." Roy explained and with a bitterness he couldn't help, finished it with; "You should have toned it down."
When he wasn't immediately met with some kind of curse or suggestion to take his ass to Hell, Roy felt even more concerned. That Jason hadn't attacked him verbally or physically meant something. Maybe that he wasn't coping well as The Hood anymore. It was hard to remember that Jason was only twenty-one years old. Especially when he looked so… worn out.
"Dude, go for a walk or something." Roy insisted. "You need to get some air, you need to breathe and you need to get out of this room. I swear, I'll make sure nothing happens to him."
To his surprise, Jason nodded and began speaking rapidly about some nurse. "She's dangerous, she's desperate. Don't let her give him anything. I need to call Pendleton and get some out of town guards to come in and protect him."
"Lucius Fox recommends them highly, so you know they gotta be good." Roy shrugged, starting to question why Jason would have such a hard time calling on men he contracted to protect his Bennet persona. And then it dawned on him. "God, you Robins. You're all just like him."
"What was that?" Jason turned on him, his eyes blazing with fury.
It didn't intimidate Roy. If anything, it just made him smirk, because once again, the former Robin was proving his point. "You heard me. You have to be in control, JT. You don't want to rely on others. You wanna do it yourself. Just. Like. Him."
"Fuck off," Jason sneered.
"Yeah, that look? That's him, too. You can't escape the influences in your life, man. Just like I can't escape Ollie, you'll never escape –"
Roy's taunt died on his lips as Harvey snored loudly. He stared, waiting for the man to awaken, but by the grace of some higher power, he didn't. The old detective slumbered away in ignorant bliss. Roy was just about to let out a sigh of relief when he was assaulted by a large folded blanket.
"Keep your mouth shut while I'm gone, Roy, or I'll sew it shut," Jason threatened.
He nearly laughed at the thought. He was pretty sure every single side-kick in the history of vigilantes had been issued that exact threat multiple times in their lives. It made him feel a little nostalgic for the old days. The day when he was considered a good kid, a good friend. Just good.
"Yeah, yeah," he smiled to Jason. "I know the drill."
Slade Wilson wasn't one to mince words or play games. He was a professional. He did what he was paid to do and he moved on. He didn't care if it meant killing someone's best friend or worst enemy. No amount of tears or pleading could change his mind. Money on the other hand…Money changed everything.
Not for the reasons people believed, either.
They assumed it was purely greed. That was somewhat true. Greed was a great motivator in his life, but so too was boredom. Whether he liked it or not, he was good. Too good for most. He'd told Batman once a few years ago that his family lived or died by his sole desire, and he'd meant it. Few, if any, could defeat him in a fight.
Especially not a fair one.
Money was a great equalizer. It added an element of hope to his victims and a possibility for things to change for him. If they had enough cash to offset the cost of the contract, he'd leave them be. If they didn't, he'd feed that sadistic side of him that enjoyed watching people squirm and panic. It allowed him to be flexible when he knew that there was at least one kill switch that he'd allow to hold him back.
This, however, was new. Yes, he'd been hired once or twice as a body guard in the past, but not for someone like Jason Todd. Not in a city like Gotham and not with so many bad men out to get multiple targets, all of which he'd been paid handsomely to protect. It was a new kind of challenge that he could admit to finding invigorating.
He felt his phone buzzing again. Well, not his phone, but his work phone. The one he used for Pendleton Security. He pulled it out and looked at the number. JT Bennet was the name that flashed across the screen. It had done so probably a dozen times over the past hour, but he'd purposely ignored it because he wanted to speak in person.
There was a lot happening, and despite what he might tell the young killer, Jason was a threat. Maybe not to his life, but to his body. Injuries could still make him miserable. Pain still burned through him no differently than any other non-enhanced human. The difference between Jason and most of the supposedly dangerous people he encountered, was that if push came to shove, Jason wouldn't back down. He'd take as much of Slade with him as he could in his descent to Hell.
When he entered the lobby of Gotham General, Jason stood before him looking confused at his presence and yet angry. Then again, everything the kid did was with a touch of rage. Todd was quite possibly the angriest man he'd ever known, and considering the crowd Slade had run with throughout his life, that was saying something.
"The fuck, Slade?" Jason greeted in a low tone.
At once, Slade was struck by the boy's discolored, swollen flesh around the eyes and mouth. His black and white hair was greasy, and his face needed a good shave. Exhaustion and irritability clung to him like a heavy coat. His jeans and sweater were unkempt and in need of a wash. It looked as if he'd spent every waking moment in this place.
"I've been trying to contact someone from your company and no one has answered," JT snapped irritably, ignoring the way his loud tone gathered the attention of several patients and visitors.
With a small smile, Slade pulled his cell phone up and showed him the thirteen or so missed call notifications. "I'm here now. What do you need?"
"What I need is the real manager for Pendleton Security to send a detail to guard Bullock for me," Jason growled, his voice quieting as they each moved a little closer to one another.
"I've already got it worked out. They're on their way," Slade answered.
The kid eyed him skeptically, and Slade fully approved. It wasn't wise to take the word of a man whose loyalty could be bought. He'd done what he could to teach the angry youth all he'd need to know, and it was good to see that Jason picked up a few good instincts.
"Let's walk," Slade suggested and was equally pleased when Jason didn't bother heading for the door. Normally Todd would head outside to smoke. He clearly understood the danger his persona was currently in if he was avoiding leaving the hospital.
They didn't speak at first. Slade wasn't in need of constant chatter, and he'd beaten that in to the kid when it had been his turn to train him. Batman might have thought the constant lip was amusing, but Slade never had. At least, not when it was time to be serious.
"You need to protect your face more, Kid." Slade began once they were in a mostly empty hall way. Even then, he didn't speak loudly. "Every time I see you, your face is a mess."
"Fuck off, Slade," Jason hissed. "Isn't there a job you're supposed to be chasing somewhere? Some Teen Titan to make piss themselves?"
"If you really want me out of your hair, I could go find a Blue Bird and make him sing for me," Slade taunted.
Talking dirty about Dick had always had an effect on Todd, and usually it was a violent one. That suited him. If Slade was going to be protecting him for a while, it was good that he reminded Jason just where the boy measured up.
Jason knew better than to take the bait, and yet there he was, Slade's one eye watching as Jason's rage got the better of him. Squaring up against Slade "The Terminator" Wilson was fool hardy, but if that's what Jason wanted, he'd be happy to oblige him. The kid really should haven't been surprised to wind up on his back, gasping for air.
Jason coughed. "You did that on purpose."
Slade grinned down at him, openly amused. "What's worse is you knew that, yet you still went for it."
He bent down as if to help Jason up, but instead he examined the younger's right hand. It was bruised and swollen around the knuckles. Badly bruised, possibly broken. He'd quite literally beat a man to death, so Slade couldn't really be surprised that his hands were in such bad shape, but they told him what he needed to know.
Jason would be shit in a fight.
He tilted his head, his one eye focusing on Jason's angry, distrustful eyes. He put no small amount of pressure on the injured hand. The boy blinked and at first did an admirable job hiding the agony Slade knew wanted to spill to the surface. So, he pressed harder until…
"Fuck, alright!" Jason submitted but as usual, only once he'd been forced in place. It was a trait Slade both respected and loathed in all Robins. They fought with everything they were, and they tried so hard to make their mentors proud. Often to their own detriment.
"See now, if you hadn't taken off midway through training, that might not have happened." Slade smiled.
"Blow me," Jason snarled as he yanked his hand back. "Besides, I completed your fucking training. You told me there was nothing more you could teach me."
Slade nodded and finally helped Todd get to his feet. "At the time I believed that to be so. You were too stubborn and unwilling to learn anything else. You weren't finished. You were wasting my time and –"
"Time is money."
He allowed himself a grin. "You retained a lot of what I taught you. Unfortunately, you lack self-preservation. I worried about that then, and I'm still worried about it now. More so after the other night."
"Yeah, right," Jason spat. "You don't worry about anyone or anything."
"Watch yourself," Slade warned ominously and they both knew it was the last one he'd give before he really hurt him. "In the past you never would have laid down. You never would have let yourself get injured. Your problem then, was that you didn't know better. You were trying too hard to be anyone else. Even then I could see your potential.
"Now, though," he looked to Jason disapprovingly. "Now you take risks on purpose. You know better now. You just don't care, and that's not something I'm willing to protect."
"Who asked you to?" Jason stepped up to him again, this time refusing to back down and inadvertently proving his point. "Seriously," the boy demanded. "Who asked you to protect me? I'm asking your team to protect Harvey; not me."
"Who hired me is none of your concern." He stood toe to toe with Jason, their noses only inches apart. Both stood at the ready and even though Jason must have known he'd lose the fight, that fire or the 'red' as Todd so often called it during training, was clearly visible in striking blue eyes.
"My contracts are my business," Slade reiterated. "All you need to know is that I have been hired to protect JT Bennet and Harvey Bullock from all threats, and Jason Todd from the Joker."
That caught the kid's attention. The pent-up energy dissipated rapidly at the sound of Joker's name. He didn't begrudge Todd that small weakness. Very few knew what it was like to be murdered so brutally and have to come back to face that same monster. Slade was mostly heartless, but there was something about the Robins that tugged at the small bit of humanity left in him.
He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder when he saw that he swayed just a tad. "You need to sleep, and I know that hasn't been easy. Final negotiations were only completed this morning, or my team would have been in place sooner. I want you to sleep tonight, do you understand?"
"Just because you're guarding me, doesn't make you my boss," Jason argued.
"No, but as one of your only surviving teachers, your reputation affects mine." Slade reminded, his tone dropping any warmth to indicate how serious he was.
"For a man who keeps threatening to go fuck the bejesus out of Dick, you sure spend a lot of time sniffing around me."
He almost laughed, but Jason didn't know that. Wouldn't have ever known that.
Okay, so maybe Slade didn't mind the lip, but again, only in the right settings. It was an indulgence he would have suffered from very few. While Jason certainly wasn't what he had always wanted in an apprentice – Dick was definitely more his speed – Todd was a not too distant second.
"Dick seems to be taking care of himself just fine, unlike you," Slade responded, choosing to ignore the vulgar reference altogether.
"Look, whatever you want to do for Harv, I'll take," – that must have been difficult for him to admit –"but I don't need a fucking body guard, Slade."
"Pretty hard sell from where I'm standing, Kid." Slade smirked. "Look at that," he said, pointing toward Jason's blackened eyes. "Pretty boy like you?" He tutted in condescension. "Real shame to see your face like that."
"You know what, Slade?" Jason started, his shoulders back and his chest puffed out, before it all changed. Those proud shoulders fell as the kid pulled his cell phone back out. He read a message and sighed irritably. "Whatever, man. You do you. I'm going back up to see Harvey."
As always I hope you enjoyed this. My beta and I beat the Hell out of this chapter trying to get it just right. Thanks so much to all of you who have read and continued to read this story. Thank you for the beautiful comments and even for the criticism.
