April 4th
1500hrs

Bruce was prepared when Selina finally arrived at the manor and was shown into his office. Roy was at Dick's, Dick was at work, Tim was tucked away safely in Smallville, and Alfred had his own section of the house to hide in once she was escorted in. Bruce was seated in his office going over a few things that didn't really need his looking over at the moment. It was mostly busy work if he were being honest with himself.

"Bruce," Selina smiled as her blue eyes flashed dangerously.

She was as radiant as ever. Her curly blonde hair was pinned back by some bobby pins. She wore a black pencil skirt and black strappy heels with a white blouse and some blue costume jewelry that matched her own eye color perfectly. Even distracted by her beauty, Bruce wasn't a fool and he knew that smile was one that promised anger, possibly even murder.

"Selina," he greeted without getting to his feet.

"Care to tell me why you've allowed the Red Hood to run rampant in Gotham," She began without so much as how are you or nice to see you. "I thought you had a rule about vigilantes in this city?"

Straight to the point. Heaven forbid Selina try and pretend that they were not in fact prowlers of the night. He didn't shrug, but he didn't answer her right away either. She could wait. It was her choice to break up the last time and her choice to leave the country. If he recalled correctly, he'd been the one dumped.

As per usual.

"Was the brain tumor really that serious?" she asked as her eyes betrayed only a hint of concern. "Do you need help getting rid of him?"

He shook his head. "Selina, this is so much more complicated than you can possibly know, and I would advise for your own sake that you take this slow and allow me to lead the conversation for once."

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't argue. She stepped up to his desk and took a seat in one of the chairs opposite him. "Very well, I'm listening."

"First things first, the tumor has been dealt with and there are better than good odds I won't have a relapse." Bruce was pleased when he caught the small smile at her lips. Knowing she was relieved warmed him. "Secondly, Red Hood isn't going anywhere because he's a Gotham native."

"So, he's blackmailing you!" She demanded as she leapt to conclusions. He almost laughed at how animated her face got, her eyes brows knitted and her mouth pursed angrily. "He knows all about Alfred which certainly means he knows you and probably poor Timmy and Dick, too!"

Bruce raised his right hand. "Selina, please.".

She rolled her pretty eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine. Get on with it."

"Yes. He knows us all because he was once one of us."

He had her attention now. Not that he didn't have it before, but she probably had a few guesses. Now she was clueless, just as they'd all been weeks ago.

"Selina, the Red Hood is Jason Todd."

"That's… That's not funny. You wouldn't joke about him," she frowned and eyed him warily.

"No, I wouldn't," he agreed easily.

He watched as she worked to process what he'd said and likely what it all meant. Selina was very clever and while she'd run into some strange things, he doubted very much there'd been any resurrections in her encounters. Not like Jason.

"How?"

He glared at his desk, ashamed to admit he didn't have an answer and worse, that he had no intention of working to figure it out. "We don't know," he answered. "Nor will we try to find out. Just know that between Tim, Alfred and me, we've confirmed that it's our Jason Todd."

"But Bruce…"

"No, Selina. If we try to determine how he came back it will put him in danger with Ra's al Ghul."

She shivered and he didn't blame her for the tell. The League of Assassins were aptly named and after losing Jason to one cruel, narcissistic psychopath, Bruce wouldn't let them lose him to another. He'd sent Tim an email early-on warning him not to look into Jason's miraculous return. It was the only thing the teen agreed on since his own self-exile to Smallville. Well, partial self-exile. Until Joker was handled, Tim wasn't allowed back in Gotham.

"And you're sure it's him?" she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"I just said—"

"I know but, Bruce… Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?" Selina frowned but abruptly changed topics. Sort of. She was still angry and still trying to get the answers she wanted but from a different angle. "Why isn't he here with you? Why is he killing people? I thought you taught all your birds not to take lives."

"Selina…" Bruce wished he had something else to say to her, but the best he could do was to just be honest. "I failed him. I… I tried to…"

She was out of her seat and perched on his desk as she leaned into his space and took his face in both of her hands. Bruce knew her too well to doubt her shock. Selina was trying to be herself, trying to act normally, but she was stiff and robotic because her mind wasn't focused. He'd seen it only two or three other times in the past. It was still nice to see her concern and to know that despite their ups and downs, she cared about him.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?" Bruce frowned.

"About Joker, about what you did to him?"

"He knows I put him in a body cast, but he doesn't know the extent. Or if he does, he doesn't mention it. He doesn't seem to hate me for Joker being alive, though," Bruce sighed. "What I believe he hates me for is that last fight we had before he died. Before he ran away."

Her gaze was sympathetic as she reached out to caress his cheek, "You're only human, Bruce. You make mistakes just like anyone else."

"I know, and we've talked a few times. I trust him to come back to us when he can."

She moved again, this time off the desk and into his lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled into his chest. He smiled at the feeling and held her tight against him.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered. "But why didn't you tell me what was happening here? You have to know I would have come home so much sooner."

He didn't bother to answer. She knew what he'd say as well as he did. But he wasn't going to focus or dwell on the fact that he'd kept her away. She was there. She was in his arms and that was all that really mattered anyhow.

"I know, I know." She pressed her head into his neck and he couldn't help but stroke her hair when she was so loving. Especially considering he was expecting far worse.

"You're being nice to me because of the tumor thing," he accused.

She nodded and then looked at him. "And Jason's back from the dead. He always held a special place in my heart, but I can't imagine what you must be going through."

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "You think I'll take you to see him."

Selina easily got off his lap and stood, staring him down. "And why shouldn't you? I want to see him again, Bruce. I want to see with my own eyes that he's not some fake messing with your damaged heart and head. We've seen so many horrible things in our lives and you, your boys, and even Barbara… you all suffer so much. I can't stand the idea of someone playing you again."

It wasn't worth arguing with her. He could have shown her all the evidence in the world, but she'd have to see him, out of costume, for herself. Selina only trusted her own instincts and even several months abroad hadn't changed that.

Bruce didn't mind though. He liked that Selina was one of the few consistencies in his life.

"Just not tonight." When she started to argue he gave a stern look and shook his head. "He dropped another sign this afternoon and I have a feeling he's going to be kept indoors for a few days."

"Who's managed that?" she snickered.

"Hopefully Roy Harper, but if not him, then I must assume it's Deathstroke." Bruce didn't even bother to hide his sneer or the irritation that the assassin was still in his city.

She stiffened. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"He's made Jason his 'protégé', he hasn't let us near Jason's unmasked alias in weeks," he said through gritted teeth and paused before he continued so he could take a calming breath. " I only just saw him a day or two ago and it was mostly with Slade's supervision."

Selina looked aghast and he knew what he was about to hear. His cheeks colored, because she wouldn't be wrong, and he was already embarrassed.

"You're Batman! Why would you let him do this to you? To Jason? How bad was it, Bruce?" she demanded.

He cleared his throat and pulled out the medical records he had prepared for this exact conversation. He handed them to her and watched her go through them. "I was losing my balance and getting very ill. I couldn't control my own stomach and the vertigo was ceaseless some nights."

"Wait, so… You did fall, didn't you?" she frowned and for a moment, Bruce was horrified by the idea that she might cry. That is, until her eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled into sneer and she hissed; "You ever keep a secret that affects your health like that again and we're through. Do you understand me, Bruce?"

"I'll do my best." He smiled. He couldn't help it. Even if it wasn't the right time or place. She was one of the few people who openly showed how much she cared for him regardless of whether or not he was in his cowl or in his business suit.

"You ready to go out tonight?" Selina asked as she stared at him expectantly.

"More than ready. I am trying to find Joker before the Red Hood or Deathstroke can catch him, but I get the feeling Joker knows damned well we're all hunting him. He's wisely gone into hiding."

She cocked her hip out as she looked at her nails. "I'll get out tonight, too then. I'll reach out to a few of my contacts and see what they know. Last I heard Ivy was still obsessed with Harley."

Bruce blinked as he realized she wasn't aware of Harleen Quinzel's death. "Selina, you may want to tread carefully if that's the angle you're going to use. Jason shot and killed her months ago."

Her beautiful blue eyes widened as her jaw dropped. "What?"

He stood up, prepared to offer her support if that's what she wanted, but Bruce hoped she didn't. Not because he was unwilling to give it, but because of who it would be over. Any compassion he'd once had for Harley died the moment after Jason stopped breathing. She may have been manipulated in the beginning, but she chose to stick it out. She chose to remain at Joker's side after countless offers by himself and Pamela Isley to get her away from him.

"Poor Pam," Selina sighed. "Thanks for the heads up, Babe. Going in and trying to talk to her about Harley would have probably gotten me killed."

Bruce wasn't sure and he said as much. "Poison Ivy hasn't been around much, or if she has, she's been quiet. I assume she's making sure she avoids Red Hood's list. She might think herself a god, but he's already taken out a few people long considered untouchable."

"Like?"

"Two-Face, Deadshot and Black Mask to name a few," Bruce listed. "Not to mention Clue Master and Riddler, too."

His girlfriend moved back around the desk and took her seat looking pale and uncomfortable. "Bruce, if he keeps this up, you're not going to have much to do." She tried to joke, but it fell flat because even she didn't find it that funny. "I'd heard about some of the human traffickers, a few of the mobsters and I know about Deadshot and Black Mask, but I didn't know about the others. You do know that bounties for almost all of them have been claimed."

Bruce felt a burning ire in his stomach as he shook his head. "What?"

She grimaced. "You didn't know?"

"That Jason's been collecting money for killing them? No, I didn't."

Bruce thought about it and somehow the whole thing made a little too much sense. Like there was some kind of trap there and yet he couldn't deny he was furious. Killing was bad enough, but collecting bounties? That changed everything. It made his son a cold-blooded assassin.

It invalidated every argument Jason had made about doing the right thing and protecting people from the criminals that took out so many innocents.

He glared at his desk as a new thought entered his mind. "Deathstroke," he snarled.

"You think Deathstroke taught him to do it?"

"No. Deathstroke is collecting the bounties. He has to be. Jason's a lot of things but I do not believe he is only killing these people for money. It's inconsistent with everything I've seen, and while Jason may be a great actor, his skill comes from never playing a character that's too different from his own."

"You're sure? Six, almost seven years is a long time for someone to become someone else, Bruce." She bit at her bottom lip and added; "Especially since it doesn't sound like we know much about who has spent all this time with."

Bruce nodded. "I'm positive. I doubted him once before and I lost him. I won't make that same mistake twice. Jason would have told me if this was just about money. Hell, he would have found a way to steal from me, but that's not what this is about. He's trying to save his city, just like me and just like Dick, Tim, and Barbara."

She sighed. "If you say so."

"I do."


April 4th
1745hrs

Dick felt his jaw tighten as he made his way to Harvey Bullock's apartment, or condo, or whatever it was. it had taken hours to finish his report on the shipping container and the sight was still burned into his mind. Not to mention the smell! It tainted everything, even his meals. But that wasn't what was getting to him.

The idea that Jason thought he could just start up this serial killer crap again was… Well it wasn't gonna fly! It was one thing to fight for the unseen, and even to put an end to a threat, but the manner in which Jason kept displaying these people? It had been weeks since they last saw a cardboard sign and Dick foolishly believed that Jason was done with the displays and theatricality of his kills. It just didn't sit right with Dick.

He banged on the door loudly.

After about a minute and a half the door opened to reveal Jason with sleepy eyes and wild bed hair, half of his white stripe sticking almost straight up in the air thanks to the partially black hair spray. He looked ornery in red flannel pajama bottoms as he greeted Dick with a questioning grunt.

"May I come in please?" Dick asked, knowing damned well that Bullock was still at the precinct and they could not have a conversation in the hallway.

Jason shrugged and stifled a yawn. "Sure." The younger stepped to the side and once the door was closed, added, "What's up, Dick?"

He tried to keep his temper in check as he took a deep breath. They hadn't spoken in weeks, hadn't addressed Dick's kiss back at Slade's place or even the fight with the assassin, but all of that was for a later day. He was there for a reason.

"You deny the victim their day in court."

Jason blinked and rubbed his eyes and then grimaced. "What?"

"I am willing to see things from your perspective, but I want you to try to see them from mine, too," Dick began.

The younger man sneered at Dick before he made his way to the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers, offering him one. Dick declined and then watched his ex-boyfriend pop the top off one of the bottles and begin to drink. After a few swallows Jason looked a little more awake.

"Okay," the taller said with something of a bemused smirl. "Let's try this again. What the fuck are you going on about?"

"I understand," Dick said as calmly as possible trying to keep his thoughts together. "I do. The idea of losing Timmy to Joker… Knowing how few people will truly get their justice is difficult. I understand why you do what you do. The killing, I mean."

"But?" Jason grinned, fully prepared for the rebuttal. Sometimes Dick hated that JT or Jason seemed to know him so well.

"But you deny the victims, especially the unknown victims, their day in court. You take their closure away. They don't get to accuse their assailant."

"Most of them wouldn't anyhow." Jason shrugged callously. "They've been threatened, beaten, coerced, tricked, bribed, or in some cases disappeared into silence. Hence the death penalty I so liberally and happily bestow on the scum sucking dogs."

"But not all of them! Cops and lawyers work their asses off trying to convince these people to come forward and speak and tell the world what happened to them!" Dick argued. "You take away their opportunity to stand up for themselves! To defeat these men or women in the only way they will ever be allowed to!"

"They aren't the ones I'm killing for, Dick!" Jason shouted irritably, all amusement wiped away from his face in an instant. "As much as I am doing this for past victims, I'm more concerned about the future victims. The ones that these pieces of trash will get to when they are either released or they break free. The past victims of my kills, the reasons for my kills are dead. They couldn't get a fucking day in court without dragging their rotting corpses in!

"But you know what, that's a great fucking idea! You go tell the District Attorney to start bringing in the bodies of their victims. The ones we fucking know about. Let everyone see what these things do to their prey. Maybe there won't be so many people released on parole."

Dick frowned as he realized why he'd never win the argument. Jason didn't see the people he killed as humans and that became blatantly obvious as they spoke. How many times had he referred to them as dogs? To Jason, he was providing a service by putting down dangerous animals. Some part of Jason believed it, to be sure, but what about the torture?

If it were that black and white for him, Dick couldn't imagine Jason wouldn't just coldly put a bullet between their eyes. That meant some part of Jason still saw them as humans or he wouldn't bother with the 'punishment' parts of their death.

Dick had no choice but to change his own argument because he had to. They needed to have this discussion. He didn't want to just leave it at the heartbreaking crossroads it kept falling into anytime they even broached the subject.

"What about victims we'll never find? Some could still be alive! By killing these criminals there's less chance of us finding any other victims."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Do you believe torture will get you answers?"

Dick frowned but shook his head. "Most people under torture just say what they think you want to hear to make the pain stop."

"Or so they say," Jason shrugged. "Sometimes the info is accurate, but yeah. Sometimes it's not. That's why it's considered unreliable. So, you don't believe in torture, right Dick?"

"What's your point?"

"Most killers, traffickers, or other shitbags that I hunt… They're not going to tell me or you or even the cops anything. Not a damned thing. Maybe we get lucky with torture, maybe we don't, but either way, that information isn't coming forward any easier with the likes of me than it is with some courtroom psych or FBI profiler.

"Even at the end, Ted Bundy maintained his innocence. He would only say 'if it was me this is what I'd do' or 'if I had done it I might try this'. They don't want to give the families of their 'prizes' any closure, Dick. Half the time those monsters won't tell you where the bodies are, let alone if there are more than they were convicted of killing."

Jason looked at the hardwood floors and then back up to Dick. "You've lost those victims anyhow. That's just the reality."

"And the other half?" Dick demanded angrily, hating how hot and cold Jason ran with this mission of his.

The taller man rolled his eyes. "For fuck's sake Dick, it's a turn of phrase. I don't actually know the exact stats, but unless they didn't get enough attention in the papers or on the news, they aren't revealing shit. You're a cop, you should know all this."

With a deep breath, Dick tried again. "Jason, I know you think what you're doing is right and I'm not yet saying you are wrong. Not completely, but you killed human traffickers."

"So?" Jason shrugged.

"So what if they had another container full of kids or girls or something? We'll never know because they're dead!" Dick was sure he had Jason, but to his own heartbreak, he saw that Jason was barely giving his argument any thought or consideration. "Jason!"

"What the fuck do you want me to say, Dick? They're dead now and I'm not sorry for it," Jason insisted.

Dick frowned and shook his head. Even if he was getting through to Jason, Dick knew his ex would never admit to it during an argument. It was time to change tactics.

"But what you're doing… How is it not damaging you?" Dick asked. "You drowned them! You knowingly locked them up in that storage container and dumped it in the harbor! That's sick, Jason!"

"No worse than what they do." Jason took another swallow or two from his beer. "No worse than the fear their victims suffer! They should have to suffer even a touch of what they did to their victims, Dick. It's the only way that people will stop and think and decide if it's worth coming to Gotham for their product."

Dick heard the hatred in Jason's voice as he spat the final word. He hoped and prayed he was making some kind of impact, but Jason had the air of a man who was going to keep doing what he wanted no matter what. He was stubborn and obstinate in the worst way. Maybe Dick never could make Jason see his perspective, but that wasn't the only goal.

"I won't say I don't agree with you," Dick said softly, slowly. "Not when it comes to some of the criminals you've killed. But you can't deny that this is eating away at you. That this brutality and all this death is slowly warping your mind and stealing your sanity."

At first, Dick thought Jason would laugh it off again, but instead the younger man flinched. Like Dick had really wounded him with his stated concerns. He wanted to hug Jason, to wrap about him and promise everything would be okay if he just let it all go. If he stopped hurting himself. He had to keep pushing on this point. Jason wasn't stupid and he had to know recognize something was wrong with him.

"The more you do this, Jason, the more likely you are to lose yourself, too," Dick added with a gentleness that he hoped wouldn't offend.

"It doesn't hurt me, Dick," Jason denied in a similarly soft tone. "I know what this all looks like to you. From yours and Bruce's perspective I am poisoning myself with all this negativity, but that's because you don't see the light. You don't see the good in what I'm doing. The justice I'm delivering or the pain that I'm ending."

How right Jason was. Dick couldn't see the light. He doubted there was any. Yeah, Jason might have prevented more victims, but at what cost to his own psyche? But as Dick tried to think of a counter argument he thought about the cardboard signs and all their messages. The words written out in Jason's stylized writing.

Dick was never going to make Jason see reason.

Jason wasn't just spending hate, anger, and energy on these men and women that he went after. Each and every sign made one thing entirely clear. Jason was on a mission and he wouldn't, no—couldn't stop until he saw it completed.

The thought brought tears to Dick's eyes. "So, you'll spend the rest of your life just hunting and killing?"

Teal eyes met Dick's as they hardened. "If I think the rabid shit stains won't be properly taken care of in a timely fashion, yeah. I guess that's the long and short of it. I'll do it myself and it won't hurt me, because I know that in the end, I am dispensing justice while protecting the innocent."

There was a long moment of silence while Dick tried to figure what, if anything, he could say. He ignored the way Jason glared at the wall to his right. It was odd, but maybe he was just thinking? Meantime, Dick also needed to know how to move forward with Jason.

"Do you, do you love me, still?" Dick asked.

"That's not what you need to think about," Jason answered. "Before you ask me about how I feel about you, I need to know that you are firm in how you feel. I won't play this 'will he arrest me or won't he' game with you, Dick. We've discussed this. You can't handle me. This conversation just proves that."

Dick shook his head. "If anything, it proves that I want to converse and discuss for the sake of continuing some kind of relationship."

Jason snorted as he played with his half empty beer bottle. "That's the whole point, Dick. I'm not your brother and I never will be."

"Why can't we try to be friends first?" Dick asked.

Again Jason scoffed. "You want to be friends with a serial killer? Fuck, Dickie-Bird, you think I'm hurting myself killing all these sorry rabid dogs, just imagine what you'll be doing to yourself by befriending me, let alone loving me."

Dick didn't deny that Jason had a point, but he also couldn't deny how badly he missed Jason. Not the brother either. But JT Bennet. The man that Jason wasn't at all pretending to be, but in fact was. Dick couldn't see through the façade because there wasn't one to begin with. Jason Todd was a good actor because he always pulled from reality.

"I know I can't convince you right now, but I do love you, Jason. And not the old you. But this you. This man standing before me."

Jason blushed and looked like he might ask a question when everything changed. Jason's face morphed into a hateful sneer as he turned fully to his right and tossed his beer bottle at the living room wall where it shattered on impact. "FUCK OFF!"

Dick's eyes widened but not at Jason's actions. There had been something there! Dick swore he saw something just where Jason had thrown the glass bottle that lay in pieces on the hardwood floors. It was… It was humanoid and the face… it wasn't a face it was like a black smudge. He blinked and couldn't see it any longer, but for a moment, Dick was sure there'd been something there.

"Jason?" They both turned to see Slade enter the apartment in a black suit and tie. "What happened, Kid?"

Not at all to Dick's surprise, Jason wasn't upfront. "Lost my temper," he mumbled and moved immediately down the hall.

"That true?" Slade asked, his dark eye focused intently on Dick. The assassin was radiating fury and it was definitely directed at him. "What'd you do to him?"

"I-I think I saw something, Slade," Dick whispered as he stepped closer. He wasn't afraid of Deathstroke. Not like Roy was. Not even like Jason. "We were just talking, calmly. Nothing was wrong and then he snarled and threw his beer, but Slade, it wasn't at nothing. There was a thing! I saw it. It was almost humanoid."

To Dick's surprise, Slade released a breath. "Thank God for that," he said and then glanced back where Jason had gone.

"What's going on?" Dick asked the retreating figure.

"I think the Kid's being haunted." Slade threw over his shoulder.

"Haunted?" Dick shook his head. "But that's… He's…"

Slade stopped beside the door to what Dick assumed was Jason's door and turned to face him. "He's been acting strange since Black Mask died, right?"

Dick thought about the timeline. One could argue Jason had lost his grip well before that. But that was behavioral. That was… something closer to mania, as Tim had pointed out. Dick bit at his bottom lip. Jason had been spooked a few weeks ago on the rooftop. Like he'd heard or seen something but was it really that different?

"So, you think this doesn't have anything to do with the other stuff," Dick clarified. "You're saying the voices, the seeing things, that's all new?"

Slade didn't answer.

"Jason hasn't been stable since he returned, Slade," Dick tried again. "What makes you think now he's being haunted?"

With a grin, Slade stepped into the hallway. "Cause this time you saw it, too."

Before Dick could respond Slade headed into Jason's room and entered without knocking. When it shut firmly and there wasn't screaming or shouting, Dick decided it was time to leave. There was still so much more he wanted to discuss, but it could wait.

It would have to wait.

He felt his phone vibrate and he looked down at the message from Roy Harper.

Dude, you need to get home. Like… now.

Attached was a photo of Tim Drake sitting on Dick's couch.


1903hrs

Roy sent off like eight texts to Dick but the poor bastard was stuck in traffic. If Bruce found out about Tim being in town, things would be uncomfortable to say the least, but if Jason found out? Oh man… Shit would totally hit the fan on that one. Jason had basically promised everyone that Joker wasn't going to get a chance to lay a finger on the kid and Bruce ensured it by ordering Tim to stay in Smallville with the Kents. Tim didn't have a single person in Gotham who would support him being back in town at the moment.

"No one is okay with you being here," Roy warned again.

"Roy, I am legally emancipated. I get to make my own decisions regarding my life and where I spend it at any given time," Tim responded. "Neither Bruce, nor Dick, nor Jason are my boss. I may not be able to run around the city as Robin without Bruce's permission, but I refuse to spend one more minute on that farm!"

To be fair, Roy wouldn't have stuck around with the Kents either. Especially in Smallville fucking Kansas. Like, really? Who the hell wanted to hang around in the cornfields? No adult in their right mind would do it, let alone a teenaged boy as smart and active as Tim.

But it still made Roy curious as to why Tim, who was normally so keen on hanging with Super Boy, was no longer interested.

"Lover's spat?"

"Grow up, Roy," Tim rolled his eyes. "Conner and I are fine exactly as we are. What isn't fine, however, is Jason running around while shouting at and attacking things that aren't actually there!"

Roy knew all about the auditory and visual hallucinations. Hell, he'd witnessed them when Jason was running around. Not to mention, Harvey Bullock had been keeping him informed over the past few weeks, which was why it had been something of a relief when Bruce asked him to continue working with Jason. It made it much easier to know what he knew without feeling like Roy was turning his back on Dick.

He wasn't going to comment, though. Tim wasn't supposed to be in Gotham as it was. Giving him information to confirm his suspicions was likely going to reinforce Tim's desire to get involved before Joker was finally killed.

And yeah, that's how Roy saw it. He actively hoped and would do everything in his power to help Jason put that damned freak in the ground once and for all.

Before Tim could try and get an answer out of him, the door opened and in walked Officer Grayson. Roy really, really liked Dick's uniform. It was one of the few things that could make Roy openly doubt his sexuality.

"Timothy! What are you doing? What are you thinking?" Dick asked and Roy heard the panic edging the officer's voice.

The teen in question glared. "I am done with this, Dick. I will not stay in Smallville one more night. I am not a damsel in distress that needs rescuing. I am not weak or incapable of protecting myself and I am certainly not going to get captured by Joker, especially knowing he'd be looking for me!"

Roy was too afraid of moving. The argument wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't deny he was curious. There was someone else he was pretty sure would want to know about Tim's presence, too. He pulled out his phone and debated on whether or not it was his place to rat the little Robin out. Bruce did tell him to be a friend…

"Do you know what Bruce is gonna say?" Dick demanded angrily.

"Do you know what Jason will do?" Roy snickered and froze when he was pinned by two different sets of angry blue eyes. "What?" He tried, but there was no saving himself and he knew it. "You know Jason's going to throw a fucking tantrum when he finds out you're in town."

"That's not the point," Dick sighed.

Roy frowned at Tim as he prepared to throw the kid even further under the bus. "True. First, we gotta figure out just how long he's been in town. Dick, you really should call Conner and find out how long ago Tim left Smallville."

Dick eyes flashed angrily as he turned on his little brother. "Tim?"

Looking absolutely betrayed, Tim stared at Roy with his jaw dropped and his blue eyes widened in horror. Oh yeah. That definitely gave the little shit away. Who knew how long Tim had been skulking around the city? Not knowing meant Roy was going to have no choice but to tell Jason, no matter what Dick or Tim wanted.

He looked down at his phone and fired off a text before he could doubt himself or change his mind.

"Traitor!" Tim shouted as he stood from the couch.

Roy shrugged without looking up from his phone. "I don't owe you my loyalty, Tim, especially if you're in danger. I'm not a Titan anymore."

Within one second of the time stamp changing from delivered to read, Roy's phone was ringing. He swiped to accept and pressed it to his ear.

"Where you at?" Jason asked in a surprisingly calm tone.

"Dick's condo with both of them."

"On my way."

The line went dead.

"Well?" Tim asked. It appeared that Tim might be second guessing his decision to show up.

Dick responded before Roy could. "What do you think, Tim? Jason's gonna come down here and rip us all a new one. What I want to know is why Jason called you or even knew to call you, Roy?"

If Roy thought Tim looked betrayed moments ago, it was nothing compared to the expression of misery on his best friend's face. It actually made Roy feel like shit. He knew Dick was in love with the prick. Just like Roy also knew that Jason felt something for Dick, but was still bent over that kiss.

He felt pretty bad all things considered. Jason was going to show up at Dick's condo and force a confrontation that neither man was probably ready for.

"How long has that been going on, Roy? I thought you hated him?" Dick accused.

Roy frowned, noticing that Tim at least looked a little relieved to have the attention off him, but Roy was a little more prepared than either of the Wayne brood expected. Dick was forgetting a few things and Bruce had given him a way out.

"You're the one who told me to help him," Roy pointed out, purposely neglecting to tell Dick about his own decision to help Jason back when he took down that BDSM club. "And besides, Bruce asked me to be there for him. Said if you got upset about it to tell you it was a favor to him."

There was a moment where Roy was sure he and Dick were going to get into it over his torn allegiances, but remarkably, Dick didn't put forth another argument or accusation. He just stood, staring at Roy, but not with distrust or concern. Instead, Dick's brows, while knitted, implied something else. Like he was working out a puzzle.

Whatever his friend was thinking, Roy was too afraid to ask. He didn't want to hurt Dick. Not after everything they'd been through together. Part of it might have been pride, too. Yeah, Roy chose to work with Jason, but it had mostly been done because he was being accused of it anyhow. Especially by Bruce and Barbara and that petulant, angry child within felt it would be better just to join.

Then he'd have lost his relationship with Barbara for a reason and not just because she so badly misunderstood the situation.

"You okay, Roy?" Tim asked.

He blinked and looked at the teen. "Uh, yeah, why?"

Dick ran a hand through his hair and then sighed. "You kind of blanked and started glaring."

The front door opened just behind Dick, however, saving Roy from responding. Jason walked in after closing the door, his eyes flashing rage and concern and fear as he stepped past both Dick and Roy and grabbed Tim by the collar of his shirt.

"What the fuck are you doing in Gotham, Replacement!"

"I live here, Jason," Tim spat, not at all intimidated.

"Get off him!" Dick demanded.

"Do you have any idea what kind of danger you're in? As either Tim or Robin, you have a giant fucking target on your back! I thought you were some kind of fucking genius!"

Roy was impressed by how calmly Tim took Jason shouting in his face, but he had a feeling he knew why the youngest of Batman's brood handled it so well. For all the names Roy had heard Red Hood and Jason and even JT Bennet call Tim, it was pretty clear how scared Jason was for the teen. How badly the former Robin wanted to protect the current.

"I appreciate your concern," Tim said as he pushed Jason off and stepped back from him. "I do, but I am not a child and I am not a victim. Believe it or not, I am capable of taking care of and defending myself."

Jason grabbed the sides of his hair and yanked slightly. "Are you nuts? How many times did you get hurt in the last year alone? You were sent away because of the last fucking confrontation and damn it, I promised Batman and Nightwing there'd be no more dead Robins!"

Roy winced, and noticed that Dick did the same.

"Dude," he offered softly. "You can't make that promise."

Jason whirled on Roy, violence in his eyes as he approached. "The fuck I can't! You gonna do something to stop me, asshole?"

"Jason, calm down," Dick added, but Jason didn't turn away from Roy.

Roy knew that they all needed to get Jason calm and yet, Roy hated it when people tried to hush him into compliance. As far as he was concerned, letting Jason rage and shout would expel the energy much faster than just trying to box it up. Healthier, too.

"Of course, not Jason. I'm on your side," Roy said, and realized it was true. "You think I'm not pissed that Tim's endangering his own life? That he's not safe in Smallville where he belongs? Why the hell do you think I texted you?"

Jason's eyes widened a fraction before he sheepishly nodded and turned back to Tim. "You're going back, Drake. That's not a fucking request either."

"It doesn't matter what it is," Tim shrugged calmly. "Because I'm not going back. I am a Robin, no different than you were or Dick was. I am fully capable of—"

"Of DYING!" Jason shouted as he grabbed Tim's arms in a grip that looked painful. Especially if Tim's grimace was anything to go by. "You don't know what it's like to die. None of you do! You don't know how much it hurts or how terrifying it is! Do you want that man's laughter to be the last thing you hear?

"You might be the smartest Robin ever, Tim, but you're not the most physically capable. I wasn't. But I was more than you are now and look at what happened to me?"

Dick stepped up and placed a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Tim's not you."

Roy thought for sure Jason was gonna deck Dick, but he didn't. Instead Jason released Tim who darted to Roy's side. Not out of fear, but likely to get out of the way so that if Jason and Dick started fighting, they'd have a bit more clearance.

"What's that supposed to fucking mean?" Jason snarled, and Roy could hear the venom in his tone.

Dick raised his hands in a placating, peaceful manner. "It only means that you both are different. I'm not happy Tim's here any more than you are, but he's got a point."

Jason snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd love to fucking hear this. Go ahead, Dick. Explain it to me. Make me see why I shouldn't be dragging the Replacement's ass out of Gotham or better yet, calling his fucking boyfriend to come and take him away."

Roy grabbed Tim's shoulder to keep the boy from getting between them. He understood the teen's resentment, but now wasn't the time or the place. It was better to let Jason and Dick have their discussion, even if it was primarily about Tim.

"This is a good thing, Kid," Roy pointed out.

Tim stared up at him skeptically, but finally nodded.

"First off," Dick began as he ticked one finger. "Tim is not you and that helps."

"Why?"

Dick rolled his eyes at the interruption. "Because he didn't die, Jason. He didn't. He's not afraid of the Joker the same way that you are! And don't you dare deny that you are, because we've all seen it!"

Jason shook his head. "You idiots haven't seen shit!"

"Yeah, okay," Roy rolled his eyes. "Dick didn't see you freeze up when Joker took a crowbar to your helmet and I didn't hear you freak out when you thought you heard his laughter… He killed you, bro. That's a totally normal reaction, you know if coming back to life was normal, too. It doesn't make you weak."

"But it does give Joker an edge," Dick added quickly, preventing Jason from arguing. "Second," Dick ticked off another finger. "Tim has the advantage of being aware that the Joker is after him. You didn't. You thought you were saving your mo—"

"Don't you fucking call her that," Jason growled furiously. "That bitch wasn't my mom. She was just a temporary living space."

Thankfully, Dick didn't argue or dig into it further, though Roy had taken note and would try to figure out how to discuss it further with Jason later. Dick just nodded and continued. "The point was, Joker set a trap for you, but that won't be the case this time."

"Damn right it won't," Jason huffed.

Tim stepped forward. "Jason, I know what you and Deathstroke are doing. You're trying to control the fight and bring him to you, right? Make him think he's lured you in when it's the opposite?"

"Yeah," Jason nodded and then shrugged his broad shoulders. "What of it?"

"Why take that risk when you have the perfect bait right here?"

It wasn't clear who's reaction was the more heart-wrenching. Dick rushing forward to hug Tim and deny any such usage or Jason stepping back and paling with wide, guilt ridden eyes. There was no way either man was going to allow Tim to go through with such a dangerous, stupid stunt and yet… Roy didn't actually think it was that bad of an idea.

If anything it was a far safer bet. Jason and Slade's plan still meant walking into a trap of Joker's. Tim's meant trapping Joker. Was the risk to Tim greater or less than the risk to Jason?

"Jason," Roy called to get his attention as Dick worked on suffocating Tim with his hug. "It's not a bad idea."

"Fuck you," Jason snapped.

Roy expected that. "I'm serious, Jason, just stop and listen for a second. Don't get ahead of yourself or me, just let me talk this out."

With Jason looking like a tiger ready to pounce, Roy knew he needed to spit it out fast. Especially since he could feel Dick's horrified gaze from the side. If this went sideways, Roy was getting his ass kicked by Jason and then getting his ass kicked out by Dick.

"You have Bruce make a big deal about Tim returning to Gotham. Have him make some provoking statement," Roy began.

"Yeah!" Tim rushed in, free of Dick and standing at Roy's side once again. "Something like, 'I will not be forced to keep my own at distance for fear of some pathetic loser in greasepaint.'"

Again, Jason's eyes bulged at what he was hearing.

"You know Joker will go after him," Dick frowned. "This is…"

And then Jason's shoulders relaxed. "Perfect," he whispered. "It takes all the focus off any other vagrant, socialite or random Gothamite… We only have to watch Tim, and I could get Deathstroke to help with that. Plus, there's you, me, Roy, and B."

"Bruce won't agree to it," Dick shook his head. "Not knowing what you have planned for Joker."

"Then we won't use Bruce," Roy shrugged. "Tim's legally capable of acting on his own behalf. He can make the same statement to the press that Bruce could. 'I will not cower in another city while this happens. I have business to attend to and I will not be forced out of my home' or some shit."

Tim smiled up at Roy and nodded. He kind of felt good helping Jason, Tim and Dick plan out something again. Not that this particular quartet had ever done it before, but it certainly felt just as good as it ever had planning for the Titans back in the day.

Not to mention, Roy was pleased. He trusted Jason would kill the Joker. There wouldn't be a court date that would be prevented from happening due to a psychological test proving Joker wasn't fit to stand trial. There wouldn't be a stay in New Arkham Asylum for Joker to escape.

The clown's end was finally coming.

"I don't like this," Jason admitted. "Logically it makes perfect sense and I want to be on board, especially if it means getting my hands on that fucker, but I can't- won't, risk your life, Replacement."

Roy started to say something, but Dick interrupted. "Agreed. Tim will not be bait. He won't."

Jason looked to Tim and then to Roy. "I may not be able to make you leave Gotham, but I can make sure you don't get a chance to announce yourself."

"How?"

Dick sighed and silently, sneakily, pulled out some zip-ties and pounced on the smaller teen.

"JASON!" Tim shouted.

"Sorry kid," Roy sighed as he crossed his arms wanting to make sure Jason and Dick didn't see him as a threat to their plan to keep Tim safe. "As great a plan as it is logically, it's not something your brothers are ever gonna allow."

Dick looked up at Jason from the ground where he had Tim pinned. "I'll keep him here with me and Roy."

Jason nodded. "Don't let him out of your sight, either of you. The second he gets past one of you, I'd better be informed."

It made Roy want to laugh aloud that Jason hadn't said 'if', just an implied 'when'. Roy scratched at the back of his head. "I can't keep an eye on him and help you out, man."

"Sure, you can," Dick threw in, much to Roy's surprise. "Tim will be allowed to stay without me calling Conner under the condition he promises to sit on that couch and assist with surveillance."

"I don't want Bruce knowing he's in town," Jason added.

"Oh?" Roy asked.

Jason's cheeks burned a bit as he shrugged. "You heard me. He's got enough shit on his mind. He doesn't need to be worrying about Tim on top of it. As a matter of fact, Tim, you get out, you'll get caught. Bruce plans on being Batman from tonight forward."

Tim looked horrified. "But it's too soon!"

"I've got his back, Timmy," Dick said softly. "Red Hood and Deathstroke will keep out of our way. Oracle and Agent A will be on comms helping the both of us and you and Roy can be on Red Hood's comms."

Jason made his way for the front door. "Don't let him get loose, Roy."

"Jason, wait! Please!" Tim called but the big guy was already out the door and slamming it shut.

The silence was thick and oppressive as they all three looked to one another.

"Well that was fun." Roy frowned.

"You called him here," Dick pointed out.

"He needed to know." Roy shrugged but still expected an argument. It didn't come. Dick merely nodded and then went to his room, shutting the door softly behind him.

"Dick's hurting so bad," Roy frowned.

"He's stubborn," Tim said as he got to his feet without the use of his zip-tied hands.

"Yeah…" Roy agreed.

"So, you're going to let me go through with my plan, aren't you?" Tim asked, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his face.

"I think it's far safer than letting Jason wander into another trap with Joker," Roy confirmed. "But we have to be really careful about this or I'm a dead man. Jason already fucked up my leg, I can't imagine what he'd do if he found out I helped put you in the path of the Joker."

Roy released Tim's bindings and then they both flopped down on the couch. There was a lot to plan and prepare for, but with Tim helping out, it probably wouldn't be as hard or as time consuming. What Roy really wanted to know was how Dick and Jason managed to be in the same room without coming to blows.

"You think those two acted a bit chill, you know, all things considered?"

"They clearly have spoken recently," Tim shrugged. "Dick seemed tense and frustrated when he came home and I don't think it was just because of me. My bet is that he and Jason had a talk at some point."

"Huh," Roy grunted. "Guess that makes sense." He pulled up a map on his laptop of Gotham. "Where do we want to start, Tim? Or do you want to tell me why you left Smallville?"

To be honest, Roy expected the young teen to launch into his plans and grab his laptop. Instead Tim's cheeks blushed and he sighed heavily. Bright blue eyes found Roy's and held them as Tim swallowed hard and whispered. "I kissed him."

Roy blinked and then smiled and clapped the younger's shoulder. "Congrats, dude! That's fucking awesome."

Tim jumped to his feet and shook his head. "No, it's not," he crossed his arms over his chest. "I shouldn't have kissed him. I don't mind dating and holding hands or kissing, but I'm not ready for anything else."

Roy scratched at the back of his neck as tried to understand what one had to do with the other. Conner wouldn't have tried to push Tim on anything would he? "What makes you think he is?"

"He's not a virgin," Tim shrugged and Roy couldn't help but feel a little relieved that Conner wasn't bullying the smaller teen.

With a smile, Roy shook his head and tried not to laugh. "So what you're saying is that you assumed that because he screwed some chick back in the day that he'd want sex from you, too?"

Once again the teen blushed but didn't confirm or deny.

"If that's what happened, and if that's all that happened," Roy began. "Then you kind of fucked up, Timmy."

"How?" Tim demanded with a raised voice. "How is this my fault?"

"You ran away from him because you're afraid of trusting him to accept that you're not going for a ride anytime soon," Roy said. "Not cool, Tim. Not cool at all."

"But he," Tim blushed. "He reacted and I took off."

Roy laughed. "Just because a dude pops a boner during a kiss doesn't mean he's going to ask you to take care of it! No wonder he didn't chase you back here! He probably assumes you think he's some kind of feral alien waiting to throw you over his shoulder and sentence you to death by snu-snu."

Tim's brows knitted as he tilted his head, not understanding the Futurama reference in the slightest.

"You need to get out more, Tim," Roy laughed. "And you should text Conner. Make sure he knows that you know he isn't a monster."

"I was just embarrassed and scared of going too far, I didn't even think about how Conner would take my decision to leave," Tim sighed. "Damn."

"Good thing we have phones and shit to rectify dumb decisions without flying hundreds of miles away to do so in person." Roy snickered.

Tim rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell, hopefully to do as Roy suggested. He didn't hover though, instead he got to work on trying to help Tim out-maneuver the Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, and Oracle.


April 5th
0241hrs

Jason watched as the blood dripped steadily down the blade. He barely blinked as he contemplated what it was he stared at so intently while sitting on a rooftop beside the body. Was it representative of life? Or death? It was hard to tell when the crimson liquid wasn't running or even just sitting in the veins of the person it belonged to.

"You alright, Kid?" Slade asked as he snapped photos of the two men they'd killed together.

Jason knew what it meant. He was collecting bounties. Collecting money off the deaths of two men that died years ago, but were unaware until The Red Hood came to call.

"Do you ever feel bad for the people you kill?" He ignored the eye roll. "No, I'm serious. When you aren't thinking of the money you're going to collect or the victims or even future victims… When it's just your soul being measured up against all the life you've taken, regardless of the reason."

The man sat beside him on the rooftop and shrugged. "Sometimes."

Jason was grateful for the honest answer. For the way that Slade didn't try to hide the fact that he was still a human being after the serum they injected him with. It was yet another thing about the man that made Jason feel a little better being around the assassin.

"Do you?" Slade asked.

"Not in a way that would ever make me doubt myself or change my ways," Jason answered. "But yeah, sometimes… I think it's like… Damn. Why'd you make me kill you? But for you… You kill for money. A lot of times without just cause. So I guess, I wonder if you regret it."

"Oh, those ones?" Slade sighed. "Jason, I knew a long time ago that I wasn't a good man. That I'd never be one. Terrible father. Worse husband. I just wasn't wired for family or friends or companionship in general."

Jason frowned at the idea that Slade had completely given up on himself and instantly Billy Wintergreen came to mind. "He's gonna die someday," he said, refusing to say the name. "What will you do then? Just turn into another monster for me to hunt?"

Slade shrugged. "You couldn't kill me even if you wanted to, Brat."

Brat. That meant Slade was trying not to be harsh. He was trying to be affectionate instead of angry and snarly. It was something they'd done back during his first training days. It was the one 'slip' Slade would allow himself to keep Jason from feeling completely unwanted or inhuman.

"No, but you'd kill me," Jason stated. "If you become like them and I come to get you… You'll kill me. Just like if I got out of control, you'd hunt me down and kill me."

Slade glared at him for several long seconds. "Thought the suicide talk was over, Kid."

"It is," Jason promised. But there was something he was searching for. Some kind of agreement they could settle on. Some way for Jason to know that the monster Dick had glimpsed earlier and Tim had seen at the hospital wouldn't ever strike at the wrong people.

With a heavy sigh the older man shook his head. "Fine, fine. You want it, here it is. I will not give you cause to hunt me, but if you do, I won't hold it against you. I will defend myself and if that means taking your life, so be it," Slade said. "I'll even do you one better. If you become a monster that I know you wouldn't want to be, I'll put you down, too. Happy now?"

"And you'll incinerate the body?" Jason asked and couldn't help but flinch as he thought of the coffin and felt the phantom pains in his fingertips. He closed his hands into fists and noticed Slade staring at the action. "Slade? Answer me. You'll incinerate my body."

"No," Slade shook his head and Jason started to panic when he felt the man grab his wrist firmly. "You won't be buried either, kid. But if I find you first, or I'm the one who takes you down, I'll find a place to keep you until I know for sure you ain't getting back up."

"We still don't know how long I was dead for, Slade," Jason whispered.

"I'm aware of that. No burials. No boxes. No submersions. You have my word, Jason."

Jason released the breath he was holding and then tugged his wrist free. Once Slade was out of his space, he wiped the blade clean of the blood. "Thank you, Slade."