A/N: Super stoked I got a chance to post this sooner rather than later! Hope you guys enjoy this update. The next two chapters to come are actually pretty fun so I'm looking forward to editing them and sharing them with you. As for chapter 35, it's near compilation of it's first draft. I'm so close to the end it's crazy!
As usual, thank you too all of you who gave me some feedback and thanks to all of you still reading. I'm sorry I can't update as much I used to, but that' s life. Having a mortgage isn't easy XD
With Love -Ophelia
Chapter 31
Broken Arm of Human Law
"Through tattered clothes great vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold,
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks.
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it."
William Shakespear King Lear
It wasn't long before the storefront of the bar was littered with men and women dressed in blue uniforms, each one impeding foot traffic and guarding that bright yellow line. The body lay covered in a grotesque scene on the sidewalk, people crowding around, trying to catch a glimpse of the dead girl. Many sorry when they finally had.
Commissioner Gordon knelt over her lifelessness, looking down at the carved smile macabrely grinning back at him through blood and gore. His brow furrowed and he lowered the drape, covering her mutilated face once more. He rose from the concrete and stood, his expression heavy as he turned to the obese detective.
"What'd'y think, Commish?"
Gordon's frown deepened as he stroked the stubble on his chin. "Based on the wounds and manner that they were inflicted… I'd say we're looking at the Joker."
The husky man let out a sharp breath. "Do you think she's the body we're look'n for?" he asked in regards to the previous crime scene. "I mean, all it was missing was a body..."
"That's for the DNA to confirm, Harvey," Gordon replied. "As of now, we need to look at this case separately. At least until the evidence says otherwise."
As this conversation was taking place, Jason and Dick looked on as if two shepherds standing guard over their flock.
"Can you tell what they're saying?" Jason asked, clearly aware of the conversation, but just confirming his brother's ability to lip read.
"Yeah," he replied, "there's another crime scene, they think this might be connected. They think it might be Joker."
"Well no shit it's Joker," Jason spat, Dick rolling his eyes, simply because Jason had a bad habit of letting his bias guide his conclusion. Dick always felt he was a better detective than that.
"It' likely, but you never know," Dick replied. "This other crime scene might just hold the key. Now shut up cause they're coming over here."
"Yeah I noticed that, Dickhead."
Dick shook his head as the Commissioner approached, flanked by his lesser counterpart.
"Gordon," Jason greeted nonchalantly.
"Todd," the older man replied.
"So what's the diagnosis?"
"I'm not at liberty to say," the Commissioner replied evenly. "But, we are going to need to do a walkthrough of the premises, just to rule it out as a potential crime scene," he added as though it were the end of the conversation.
"No," Jason said dispassionately, Dick not even surprised.
Gordon's face hardened, his aged brow creasing with a genuine distaste. "May I ask why?"
"Cause my place of business is not a crime scene and you have no reason to believe that it is."
"The dead girl out front of it doesn't count?" Gordon questioned.
"She wasn't found inside and correlation doesn't equal causation."
"True," Gordon reluctantly agreed through a grimace, "but it is protocol to rule it out. So I'm politely asking your permission."
"And I appreciate that," Jason said with a smile, "but no."
"You do realize that by refusing us entry that you're only opening yourself up to become a person of interest?" Bullock added.
"Is that a threat, Bullock?" Dick asked boldly, "Cause if it is, Jason refusing you entry makes total sense?".
"Stay outta this, you little shit?" Bullock barked
"Seriously Commissioner," Jason added, "is this gonna happen every time you bring your dog to work?"
"Enough—everyone," the older man ordered as though quelling arguing children. "What my colleague means is that if you have nothing to hide then you'd allow us to take a look."
"For what though?" Jason asked. "I didn't kill anyone and neither did anyone in my establishment. So there's nothing for you to find and I'm pretty confident you both know that."
"Jason, don't make this any harder than it has to be," Gordon reasoned, hoping his plea would be met.
"Hey I'm simply exercising my right to the 4th Amendment."
"You mean your right to a speedy trial?" Bullock asked perplexed.
"That would be the 6th Amendment," Dick corrected crassly. "The 4th Amendment would be "The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures."
"So in other words, gentlemen: a warrant," an unfamiliar voice said.
"Who the hell are you?" the plucky detective asked.
"Arthur Kauffman, Attorney at Law," the man said with an outstretched hand.
"I had a feeling we'd be doing this dance, so I called my lawyer," Jason added smugly.
The two officers let out a rough sigh, nearly in unison.
"Now Commissioner Gordon, what's the issue here?" the attorney asked.
The Commissioner shrugged at the lawyer's question. "We simply asked your client for permission to enter his establishment which he denied."
"Okay," Kauffman nodded, "so, again, what's the issue?"
A crude smile curled at the edges of the Commissioner's mouth, an uncomfortable look in his eyes. "Well, Mr. Kauffman, as you can see, this is a crime scene. A girl was murdered and as far as I can see, Mr. Todd, not only knew the victim, but was also her employer."
"Even so, that's not grounds to search her place of employment."
"Maybe not, but the fact the deceased was found outside of her place of employment and by her employer, might?" Bullock added doggishly.
"That may be so," Kauffman capitulated. "However, that is for a Judge to decide. So, if I were you, Commissioner, I'd reject your partner's witch hunt mentality and start the paperwork. Get a warrant. Then, I will gladly oversee a proper search of my client's establishment and make sure the parameters of the warrant are carried out as intended."
"But what if we don't really need a warrant?" a young officer with an unfortunately crooked nose said.
The group turned to this unknown man, Jason immediately recognizing him. "Well if it isn't Jackass Jr."
"Why you little—" Bullock barked, but was cut off by the officer.
"It's okay, dad—I can handle Todd."
"Harvey Jr?" Dick drawled, realizing just who the puggish man was.
"Grayson… you're in town. Heard you—well—haven't really accomplished anything," the younger Bullock snickered.
"Well it's nice to see you're still a miserable prick," Dick said removed.
"And you're still a mouthy little shit," Bullock snapped, defending his nefarious cub.
"Bullock!" the Commissioner scolded sternly, giving the man a reprimanding look.
"Commish, really? First, these two punks think they can just obstruct our investigation, then try and make fools of us all? And all because they're Wayne's kids!"
"Enough, Harvey," the Commissioner commanded. "Now what were you gonna say, Officer Bullock?"
The younger Harvey puffed out his chest and straightened his back as though displaying his dominance. "Well, I'd first like to say that I share in the Commissioner's opinion that this search is covered under the criteria of Probable Cause," Harvey Jr. said administering his morning dose of ass-kissing. "However, it seems that Mr. Kauffman is using the expectation of privacy argument. However, whether Todd knows this or not, he has waved that right as his establishment is one of the public, therefore that gives us access to at least search the bar."
"Very good, you can read," Dick snickered, unimpressed with Harvey's Jr. interpretation of the law.
Harvey Jr. smiled smugly, still thinking he'd won, his father nearly blinded with rage, but said nothing.
"Actually, I'm in the process of getting my criminal justice degree," the young officer replied like a prized dog.
"First and foremost," Kauffman began calmly, "I would like to address that the perceived Right to Privacy, which I'm sure most of you know is one of contention. Though it is not particularly addressed in the Constitution, it is heavily suggested within many of the Amendments that there is some expectation of privacy afforded to members of the public. But specifically the expectation of privacy I'm referring to, however, is one made clear in the 4th Amendment that protects an individual's privacy against unreasonable search and seizures. Now, as I'm sure you are aware, this right can be waived if there is clear evidence in visual sight or evidence that gives the officer probable cause. Now since this seems to be the common point of contention, let me explain to you how this expectation of privacy works in this situation. You have no reason to tie this crime to my client. In fact, due to prejudice I've witnessed, I'm confident enough to say that if such a search took place, that you wouldn't even be looking for evidence to support the crime you are currently investigating."
"Are you accusing me of something?" Gordon said with offence.
"That depends," the lawyer replied, "are you admitting to potentially conducting an unreasonable search of my client's property?"
Gordon smiled crassly. "Of course not."
"Okay then," Kauffman nodded. "Which brings me to my last point. Your officer claims that you can access the building because it serves as a public space, which is true. However, you'd only have access to the public spaces, like the drinking and dining area and restrooms. This can also only be done during its hours of operation, and as you can see by the sign in the window, The Wolf's Head is currently closed and will remain as such for the rest of the day. So unless my client spontaneously confesses to a crime in the next 10 seconds, you're going to need a warrant."
"You gotta be fuck'n kidd'n me!" Bullock snapped taking sight of the closed sign.
Gordon and Officer Bullock's confidence faded, the two realizing that they'd never make it passed the front door with Jason's mouthpiece on guard.
"Fine," Gordon said. "But regardless, the law is on my side and with a phone call I can get a warrant here in just a few hours."
"And that's fine," Kauffman agreed. "Just make sure the warrant in question adheres to the case of Ms. Tjalla. Cause if it doesn't, that could spell a really horrible ending to such an otherwise clean career."
Dick's head perked up. Not so much for the fact he'd witnessed someone actually ballsy enough to threaten the All Mighty Commissioner Gordon, but for the fact that the Commissioner reacted to it.
"My career will end the way it's intended," the old man replied. "Don't count on using the dusk of my career to excel the rise of your own, Kaufman. I'll be back with that warrant." The Commissioner turned, his sights set on the task ahead. "Officer Bullock, you remain here and keep the scene secure. Keep me updated."
"I will sir," the officer said with smug pride.
"See that's my boy," his father said prideful, "you show these punks what the future of Gotham really looks like."
"Sure dad," Harvey replied with some visible annoyance and waved him off. His two childhood adversaries' still standing to his back as they watched the older men leave.
"This is some sick joke, right?" Dick finally said with them gone. "You became a cop?"
"It's not a joke, Grayson, it's a reality."
"A shitty one," the hero said coldly.
"Well hate to say this, Grayson, but people change."
"Do they though?" Dick asked patronizingly.
He turned and began to walk away when he heard Harvey call, "Hey if you don't believe me, then you should really go ask Barbara."
Dick stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw falling slack at the mention of her name. "What?"
The man shrugged. "I'm not saying anything more than that, Grayson. I'm a gentleman."
Jason took Dick by the arm, waking him from the shock he was temporarily stricken with. "Whatever, man, we got shit to do," the Outlaw said dismissively, pulling the hero along. "Right, Dick?"
Dick smiled, but not out of happiness or genuine acceptance. "Yeah, busy day."
"Well then you better get to it," Harvey replied smugly. "I'll be right out here keep'n an eye on things."
"Why don't you keep an eye on this," Jason said crassly, his middle finger held high in the officer's direction.
"Real mature, Todd." Harvey said, Jason caring little about his opinion and entered the bar.
He pulled the door closed behind him, ushering Dick inside and pushing him in Raven's direction, attempting to snap him out of his funk.
"What was that all about?" she asked, noticing Dick's ruffled facial expression.
He stared at her a moment catching himself. "It's nothing, I just realized that cop out there's Harvey Jr."
"The Harvey?" Raven asked glancing out the window, taking view of the stout man. "The one you—"
"Yeah," Dick lamented heavily as he stared out, his eyes holding a primal disdain.
"Not to break up your reunion, but is there some place where we can speak in private?" Kauffman, asked, catching both Dick and Jason's attention.
"Yeah," Jason replied. "Dick, Jinx, X, kitchen now. You two might as well come too," he added referring to Raven and Rose.
Raven looked at Dick, silently requesting his approval.
"Might as well," he replied and took his attention from the window.
"Okay," she nodded and followed him into the kitchen.
Jason led the way, holding the door open, showing everyone inside in a timely manner.
"I have a feeling shit's about to hit the fan?" Jinx mused taking a seat on the counter.
"Not quite yet," Kauffman said once the door was closed and continued. "But I'll be straight, Gotham P.D. is going to pursue a warrant to search the premises and they will get it and when they do, they are going to head straight back here, with said warrant. And when they do, they are going to tear through every inch of this place. That might not be good for the Red Hood, and based on the interaction we just experienced, my guess is that they have been building a case against him and they are going to use this as an excuse to get the evidence they need to solidify it."
"What do you mean a case?" Rose asked alarmed by the proclamation.
"He means RICO," Dick replied. "The warrant would only limit them to weapons and other items that could be tied to Trilby's murder, but if ATF or the FBI is working with Gotham P.D. then they can use whatever they find in the search to make their case."
"Which means we all go down," X added.
"And anyone connected to the organization," Raven said leaning back on the counter.
"Even my dad?" Rose asked a little worried.
"Maybe," Jason shrugged trying to keep his head on. "Maybe not?"
"We're getting way ahead of ourselves," Kauffman said conducting damage control. "They obviously don't have anything solid yet. If they did, we wouldn't be having his conversation."
"So then what do we do?" Jason asked.
"Whatever you have, get rid of it," the lawyer replied. "I don't wanna see as much as a bottle of prescription prednisone turn up. Now get going, you probably have a few hours at most. I'm gonna go make some calls, see what I can dig up, see if they actually have a case. And Jason, good work with the open sign."
"That wasn't me," the Outlaw replied.
"Well, whoever did it, you might have just saved everyone here." And with that, Arthur Kauffman took his leave, setting off into the madness of the outside world.
Dick watched the lawyer go, his mind racing with the possibility that he (and Raven) could actually serve jail time.
"Shit, what are we gonna do, JT," Jinx snapped.
"I don't fucking know," Jason snapped back and exited the room, X silently rubbing his temples as he stumbled out behind him.
The pink witch frowned, shaking her head in frustration and followed suit, ordering Rose to follow her.
Dick let out a lost sigh, quarrel heavy on his brow as he turned to Raven before she could walk passed him. "We need to talk about last night."
She scowled. "You really think this is the time?"
"No," he replied nearly cutting her off. "What I mean is, whatever we talked about last night and whatever happened between us, it doesn't matter, because this shit is far bigger than that." He watched as her face softened and her eyes lost their dominant stare, continuing to take in his words as she always had. "If we're gonna get through this we need to do it together. Okay? I need you, Raven."
She nodded, her eyes glassy as reality hit into her sobriety. "Then I'm here," she replied and took his hand.
"Good," he smiled meagerly, "and Raven?" She looked back at him in anticipation, waiting on his every word. "If this RICO thing goes down, I want you to—"
"It's not going to," she replied, cutting him off, "cause you're gonna figure it out." She met his eyes, her gaze calm and confident. "You always do."
The slight panic lifted from his face, if only for a moment, her confidence in him a pillar of strength he was happy to have back. He let his forehead rest on hers and ran his thumb along her jaw.
"Thank you," he whispered.
She smiled and cynically said, "Don't thank me yet, you still gotta pull a miracle out of your ass, and you will."
It was then she took her leave of him, leaving him to the perplexity of the situation. His mind raced, searching, silently rambling through answers he wasn't sure he had. The guilt didn't help either. He finally pushed forward, hearing Jason frantically barking orders and left the room, entering the bar.
"We gotta get all our shit out of here," The Outlaw demanded.
Dick walked behind the bar, chaos ensuing as he was reluctant to speak. His brain still scrambling for a way out, but still, he tried not to panic. He looked over at Jason, a child-like loss on his face, reminding Dick of the little boy he couldn't help. It was clear the Outlaw was slipping, his perception clouded by the looming threat up ahead. Every eye looking to him for answers that he simply didn't have.
Jason noticed Dick staring, standing there misplaced and confused. His nature pulling him one way, while his self-preservation pulled him in the other.
"What are you doing?" he finally asked, the hero still static.
Dick looked around and shrugged. "I don't know?"
"Well don't just stand there," Jason snapped, "help!"
"With what?"
"Don't give me this shit right now, Grayson," the Outlaw growled, "I don't need it. So unless you can just make all this shit disappear—"
"Disappear?"
"Yes!" Jason confirmed. "Unless you can work a fucking miracle, I don't wanna—"
"Raven!" Dick called, not even allowing Jason to finish.
Raven looked over through the chaos and stopped whatever she was doing. "Yeah?"
"Kitchen—now," Dick barked with hope. "Everyone—come on!"
The group all looked at each other and followed the command, Jason looking at Dick with question, but did not protest. At least not until he was safely in the kitchen.
"This better be good, Dickhead. We got a lot of shit to move."
Dick looked at him and smiled. "I can do it."
"Do what?" X asked, unsure of the context.
"Make all this shit disappear," Dick said and looked at Jason.
The Outlaw looked at him funny, almost amused. "Um… how?"
Dick smirked and looked over at Raven.
Jason turned and noticed the hero's glance falling on the empath, X and Jinx catching on to the idea far quicker than their leader.
Jason looked back at Dick realizing he was out of the loop. "I'm totally missing something, aren't I?"
Dick grin widened. "You have no idea."
Alfred pulled the car in front of the perimeter of the mob gathered carelessly before the old opera house. He grimaced at the sight of it, both in personal grief and in disapproval, recalling a similar scene three decades prior. Only now he seemed somehow detached from it, waiting for his old friend and employer to escape the masses of immoral reporters and self-serving journalists.
"At least when the Waynes perished they showed more tact," he grumbled, finding their feeding frenzy less than becoming. "And the media wonders how it could possibly be dying?"
Just then he saw Bruce being ushered through the thick mass, security doing their best to keep him shielded from the barrage of invasive questions and unflattering implications. Alfred removed his seatbelt and exited the vehicle, knowing this dance more intimately then he wanted and opened the rear door. He caught a glance from his younger master, his eyes lost and begrudgingly overwhelmed. Little different than the first time he'd met eyes with him in the alley. The old butler's heart broke, recalling the pain and tears of a child lost in the dark. Imagining the sheer terror one of such a tender age would feel as they fell to the damp stone below, alone where the ruins of his life lay dying. To be faced with one's mortality so young, before they could even conceive the concept for themselves.
Most people marked that moment as the death of his childhood, and though they were not wrong, Alfred felt differently. To him, a larger part of Bruce died with them in that alley, something more than the simple adolescence of his childish wonder, something deeper and warmer. As if the thing that kept him connected to the world was gone and it would never wake again.
Bruce somehow managed to climb into the car unscathed, or so it seemed. Alfred quickly shut the door defensively, looking back at the rabid faces, fangs gleaming, temporarily void of their humanity.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Alfred said unable to keep his frustration contained. "You call yourselves journalists and reporters, acting as though you are seekers of truth… only you know nothing about truth. You're all too busy manufacturing it to see the truth for what it is."
He opened the door and slipped into the driver's seat, his face still pressed with vexation.
"You do know that little rant is probably gonna find itself on the 7 O'clock news tonight?" Bruce asked a little out of breath.
"I frankly don't care, sir," Alfred said shifting the car into drive. The butler looked back through the rear view mirror and noticed vaguely labored breaths rising from the Dark Knight's chest. "Out of breath, Sir?"
Bruce leaned back, trying to relax himself. "Just stressed, Alfred. No need to worry."
"Worrying is part of my station, sir. And with the life you've led, worry I must."
Bruce rolled his eyes, but in truth, without Alfred Pennyworth, he didn't know where' he'd be. "You mentioned something about a body?"
Alfred let out a sigh, part of him pondering how he could have nearly forgotten. "Yes, I stopped by the bar where Jason resides. I recalled him mentioning that Master Richard has taken up lodging there as well. I wanted to check up on him after yesterday's episode. By the way, were you aware that Master Jason has taken up the company of a young lady?"
"What does that have to do with anything, Alfred?"
"Nothing, sir, I was just surprised to see that maybe the young Master is better well-adjusted than we thought."
Bruce shook his head, Alfred was always very invested in the children's' overall happiness. "That's nice, but I think we should get back to the matter at hand?"
"You really are no fun, sir."
"Then go live at the bar, I'm sure Jason and his little girlfriend would make room for you there."
"Don't tempt me, Master Bruce."
"Alfred."
A brazen look took over the old man's face as he truly did miss the boys terribly, especially given how much fun they were around that stuffy old manor. It was hard not to indulge in their childish and naive sensibilities, and even Bruce could not completely defend against their humor and wit. Alfred loved both boys as if they were his own flesh and blood, and having no children of his own only made him appreciate them more. Dick was resilient and warm, his kindness towards others was easily second nature to him. He always put the needs of others before his own. Jason, however, was more complicated, and after Dick left, Alfred could see an innate change in the boy's demeanor and behavior. He seemed lonelier than usual, less animated, and more depressed and angry overall. His interests began to suffer, ignoring the things he'd once taken great enjoyment in. It was then Alfred knew he'd have to do something, fearing the boy would soon act on his darker tendencies.
He recalled that day he'd first approached the boy, bringing with him a new book he'd purchased that morning. Jason had taken to hardly leaving his room, only doing so for meals and to reluctantly go to school (which he only did after Alfred would peel him out of bed). He entered the room pleasantly greeting the nearly sleeping boy as he drew open the curtains, warm summer light flooding the room. The future Outlaw groaned, shielding his eyes painfully like some gauche creature of the night. Alfred chuckled, the sight reminding him of Bruce in his adolescence.
"What the Hell, Alfred," the boy hissed.
Alfred looked over as the boy recoiled from the daylight, his manner drowsy and his hair eschew.
"I know you had planned on wasting away on this fine summer's day," Alfred began, "but I think your time would be better spent taking in some enrichment."
"Unless that enrichment involves pizza or a can of furniture polish, I'm not interested," Jason lamented.
Alfred shook his head. "There will be none of that, Master Jason," the butler replied. "For one: you're far too young to go the way of Charles Crumb, and frankly, you're getting fat."
"I am not," Jason denied and looked down at the small bit of pudge rolling over his waistband. "Okay, maybe I'm getting a little fat..."
"That's what happens when you let yourself rot," Alfred said sitting down on the bed. "Now I know you're not in a good way right now, but I think it's time we addressed that?"
Jason looked at the floor, his eyes dull and his face long. "Like anybody cares?"
"We do care, Master Jason."
"Maybe you do, but Bruce doesn't…"
"That isn't so," Alfred replied.
"Then why isn't he the one here talking to me?"
Alfred looked away, unsure of what to say.
"He hates me, he's always hated me… and hates me more now that Dick's gone…"
"He really doesn't," Alfred, again, reassured. "He just doesn't know how to talk to you."
"Dick did."
"He did, yes," the butler agreed, "but, like you stated, he isn't here anymore—unfortunately."
Alfred too missed the young hero, his good nature and humor something lacking both in Jason and Bruce.
"It's my fault," the boy muttered miserably, "And Bruce knows it. They both blame me."
"Sometimes blame is a lost cause," Alfred said. "It doesn't change anything, what's done is done, and nothing can change that. Both Master Bruce and Master Richard have their own constitutions, and as close as they were, they still had their problems. No one is perfect, Master Jason, and though it's unfortunate that Batman & Robin are no longer a team, they each made their own choices."
"Yeah, but they probably wouldn't have made those decisions if it weren't for me."
"If I may speak frankly, you're right," Alfred agreed to Jason's shock, "but in truth, their relationship would have imploded at one point or another." The butler looked down at the book in his hands—a reprint of the Brothers Grimm Hansel and Gretel. "You see, Master Bruce is, in his own way, over protective, most of which is understandable, but, in some ways, his means to preserve one's wellbeing could be seen as unjust. That's what this tale is about, only in this case it's a sinister matriarch."
"Are you saying Bruce likes to eat children?" Jason asked sardonically with a raised brow.
Alfred laughed, relieved to see the boy's odd sense of humor surface. "That part is symbolic." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a hardy squeeze. "You see the tale is to warn the reader of the dangers of submitting to the demands of those who may promise protection in return for trust, as they may wish to do them harm in the end, or possibly even unintentionally. You see the old woman promises the children that if they simply comply with her wishes that she'll feed and care for them, all they have to do in return, is never leave."
"So submit your free will and I'll eat you alive… that's really sick… I like it."
Alfred smiled again. "That's actually quite accurate. I noticed it has been a few months since you've willingly picked up a book, so I thought that maybe we could read this one together." He handed the book to Jason who looked down at it quizzically.
"Why?"
"Because frankly, you need an outlet and a friend, Master Jason."
"Why now?"
Alfred looked away, not really sure what to say, so he just went with the truth. "Because I realized that in the past I never tried as hard with you. Master Richard was always so easy to read, you on the other hand—well… you're simply more complicated. Master Richard was the one who took the initiative with you. He understood you in a way that simply Master Bruce and I could not. But that is not an excuse. We are responsible for you and we should have tried harder. Maybe if we had, Master Richard would still be here. This is me taking the initiative. I can only hope you'll accept it."
Jason sighed and pondered a moment, Alfred waiting for his reply.
"Well, I guess if you really think I'm too young to pull a Charles Crumb?"
Alfred smiled at the memory, recalling all the books the two read over the years, everything from Grimm Fairy Tales to Orwell and the works of Shakespeare. Jason even convincing Alfred to read through a few old racy Zap Comics. Even going as far as to disclose that he could closely relate to a sketch by R. Crumb in which a man is depicted in a room filled with live electrical wires, the man curled up in a ball and his face filled with anxiety, the words, "The little guy that lives in my brain," printed in the text box in the lower corner.
Alfred, though not surprised, recalled feeling sad for him, but hid his concern as he did not want to deter the boy from approaching him with such inner turmoil. Jason then lamented that he'd felt self-destructive in the past and even considered acting on those impulses, but no longer felt that way. Alfred remembered feeling at ease with the boy's confession. However, it did little as Jason died a month later.
"Well forgive me, sir. I was just trying to lighten the mood," the butler said ruefully as he glanced back once more.
"I know, Alfred," Bruce replied, "it's just been a long day is all."
"I understand, sir. But to answer your question: Yes a young woman was found dead outside Jason's bar during my visit. It was quite awful really."
"Any word on if they have any suspects?"
"Well as of right now their focus seems to be on Jason, but that is simply because the Red Hood is linked to the bar. The Commissioner knows the boys had nothing to do with it."
"But he's looking into them anyway?" Bruce questioned. "That doesn't seem like Jim…"
"It doesn't indeed, sir," Alfred agreed. "In fact, I overheard Gordon say to that Bullock fellow that he believes the murder fits Joker's M.O."
Bruce's face hardened, his mind pondering the many possibilities.
"If I may speak freely, Master Bruce," Alfred continued, "I think the matter might be worth you looking into."
"Maybe, Alfred… maybe?"
As the next few hours passed, weapons and other contraband were gathered and packed away. People also forgoing things like cell phones and prescriptions, anything that could possibly be used against them. The only gun left on the premises was a shotgun Hogan (who had a License to Carry) had registered to the bar. The only protection anyone would have until this whole thing blew over.
"Jesus Christ, Jay," Dick whined looking down into a hidden cellar chamber, a plethora of weaponry before him.
"Well if you think that's impressive, you should see my arsenal."
Dick looked back at him blankly. "This isn't it?"
"No, this is my weapons surplus."
Dick continued to glared back at him perplexed. "A weapons surplus? And here I thought Bruce was paranoid?"
"Yeah this has less to do with paranoia and more to do with always having a contingency plan," Jason replied.
Dick shook his head as he began taking mental inventory of everything at the Outlaw's disposal. "How many fucking guns do you have?"
The Outlaw smirked unable to mask the shit eating grin. "There's like 80 in the surplus: I have at least 4 or 5 handguns at any given time, mostly mock Colts. I also have a couple military grade sniper rifles, an MR15 and a 16, a snub nose, 4 Uzi's, some really cool nitch guns, plus all my other fancy Wayne Tech shit and that's just mine."
"We're going to jail," Dick said glaring back at him.
"Yeah probably," Jason agreed as though it were just another day. "Now uh, where are we gonna hide this hardware?"
Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Well the only place I can come up with that can't be traced back to you in the short term is Roy's place."
"Do you think it will be safe there?"
"It's gonna have to be," Dick said. "We don't have a lot of choice in the matter, and at least we know Roy won't be back for at least 30 days: minimum."
"We'll just have to do shifts. At least until we figure out another option."
"Yeah and we gotta get rid of this shit now," Dick said pulling one of the many MR15's from the chamber, when he noticed an odd looking package. "Jason," Dick said in a somewhat disappointed tone, "am I seeing this right or is there a kilo of cocaine in here?"
"No," Jason said unmoved.
"Oh thank God," Dick sighed in relief.
"There's 5…"
"Oh my God, I am going to jail…"
Meanwhile, on the main floor, Raven unzipped a backpack and held it open and announced, "Okay if you have anything illegal: guns, other weapons, burners, illegal drugs, prescription drugs—hell—a medical marijuana card or anything you don't want the cops to take and do not wanna go to jail for, please, put it in this bag. Especially you, X, you will not do well in prison."
X smiled as he produced his Glock and two burners. "Neither would Chuckles."
"Yeah you'd both end up being someone's bitch."
Jinx opened her purse and dug out a snub nose and threw it in the bag. Raven then motioned to turn away, but Jinx announced that she wasn't done: a rather sharp knife followed, then a can of pepper spray and finally: a Taser.
"What the fuck do you need all that for?" the Empath asked bewildered.
"So that people know not to fuck with me."
Raven frowned. "You don't even need half that shit—NO—scratch that: you don't need any of it?"
"Don't judge me, Raven," Jinx replied opening a bottle of Jack, taking a rather generous swig.
Raven shook her head ready to reply, but was caught off guard as Dick entered the bar with Jason. Rose approaching the two, trying to confront Jason about her concerns.
"Hey, can I talk to you a minute?"
"Not now, Rosie," the Outlaw replied, brushing her off.
"How's it going up here," the hero asked meeting Raven by the bar.
"Well, other than the unnecessary amount of weaponry on a single person," she replied, glaring at Jinx as she returned the dirty look, "okay."
"I know what you mean," Dick agreed glancing at Jason, "but it gets worse."
"How worse?"
"Like, 5 kilos and a reasonably sized stock pile of prescription drugs, worse."
"Fuck," she snapped looking over at Jason. "What the hell happened to all the "oh I don't deal drugs" bullshit you're always spouting on about?"
"I don't," the Outlaw defended as Rose pleaded for his attention.
"Then why the fuck do you have that shit?" Raven affronted. "Do you have a drug habit we don't know about?"
"No," Jason said insulted. "It's for insurance."
"What Blue Cross Blue Shield's not cutting it for you?"
"Fuck you, Rae," Jason snapped snidely. "You clearly have no fucking clue how any of this works."
"Hey!" Dick said trying to halt the argument.
"You're right—I don't," she replied, ignoring her counterpart, "but excuse me for voicing my concerns cause there's a good chance we're all going to spend the rest of our lives in prison!"
"Well maybe you should have thought about that before playing Grayson's O'l lady!"
"Fuck you, Todd!"
"Hey!" Dick exclaimed, everyone finally shutting up as he glared back at them with an air of disappointment, a look he'd shared a time or two with his fellow teammates and family. "Everybody needs to get their shit together. This is no time to be bickering and bitching at each other. This is some serious shit and we are far too deep in it to start pointing fingers, okay?" He paused as shameful eyes began to glance down. "Okay! Now, if everybody is done acting like assholes, I have some updates I would like to share if everyone is done?" Dick waited as nods and eye rolls all signaled the group's obedience. "Good. So we're gonna move the stuff to Roy's, so all we gotta do is get everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, together so we can move it. And it needs to get done, like yesterday. Got it?"
X raised his hand. "Okay fine, but do you really think all the drugs and weaponry are gonna be safe in that shit hole?"
"We're gonna do shifts," Dick replied.
"Okay," X nodded. "But we have a slight problem?"
"What?" Dick, Jason and Raven all replied in tune.
"So some of us (not me) might have outstanding warrants in others states, and some of us don't technically exist."
"Shit," Jason scoffed.
"I take it you're the latter," Dick drawled.
X nodded in confirmation. "There's also the issue of what we're gonna do with, Jail Bate?"
"Hey!" Rose barked at the thief. "I'm standing right here!"
"Not you," X snapped in frustration, "the prostatot."
"Hey, I have a name," Mia said holding a stack of paperwork Hogan told her to move.
"That I can hardly remember since the narrator still doesn't know what to do with you, not to mention they passed you over in Arrow, twice!" X ranted.
Rose shook her head vehemently. "You and the fucking fourth wall shit! But while we're on the subject they passed her over in Young Justice to replace her with Artemis."
"She's in season 3, hardly, but Arrow and Young Justice passed over you too, y'know?" X added, pointing to Rose.
"They also forgot me in a recent copy of the DC Encyclopedia, which is fucking bullshit, and it doesn't look like either of us made the cut for season 3 of Young Justice." Rose admitted in the heat of the moment.
"There's always season four, but pretty sure your absence was an oversight, but I'm not in the Encyclopedia either if it makes you feel better… or am I? I'm gonna have to check. But hey, you finally made it in Titans!"
"Don't bring that up," Rose grimaced thinking of the really bad wig.
"We may need a new agent," X winced
"What the fuck are you two talking about?" Jason snapped, baffled.
The two looked at each other as though children caught red handed with the cookie jar and replied, "Nothing."
The Outlaw rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Okay, who here has a warrant for their arrest?"
Schizo raised his hand, followed by Mia, all eyes falling on the young adolescent.
"I may have kinda set my stepdad's car on fire before I ran away..."
The primary group looked at her a little harder than they probably would if the circumstances had been different.
"So your wanted for arson," Jason said with sardonic frustration, "great!"
"He also may have sorta… still been in the car when I lit it on fire..." Mia added uncomfortably. "But he lived."
"Perfect," Jason lamented. "We're harboring an attempted murderer. Good one Dick."
"I swear it was justifiable," Mia defended. "That guy was an asshole. My mom wouldn't divorce him, even after he ra—"
"Don't not even finish that sentence, we get it," Jinx replied, cutting her short.
"Y'know what, I don't even fucking care anymore," Jason concluded. "Who here doesn't actually exist?"
X raised his hand as did Raven.
"You two don't surprise me," Jason reasoned. "Okay, you 3: you guys go with Raven through the portal. Rose you go too and help close up the Killer Moth angle. Plus if your dad gets wind you were apart of this shit he'll cut our dicks off."
"Sure?" she replied a little off guard. "And about that?"
"We can talk about that later, Rosie, but right now there's a shitty situation in my lap, so I'll be here dealing with it," The Outlaw lamented in annoyance. "So Dick's in charge of this one."
"Wait why me? Isn't X like Second in command or something?"
"Second in Command cause I hate being in charge," the thief added.
"That's why he's going too, but you have more leadership experience and we need the intel Moth might have."
"If you want the good intel, we should really talk to Kitten," Rose mentioned. "She's an escort, all those crime bosses and politicians, that bitch has gotta know something."
"You sure that's a good idea," Jason asked, fearing a potential murder charge. "Especially after everything that went down?"
"It will be fine," Rose reassured.
"But just in case it's not, I'll go too." Jinx added. "I have a few things I wanna say to that bitch."
"Fine, but play nice, and do not fuck this up, either of you," Jason warned.
"Wouldn't dream of it sparky," Jinx said playfully as the Outlaw moved on.
"Okay then, Mutt, Eddie, Schizo" Jason replied, "You three go start moving this stuff upstairs. Duela, I need you to help Enigma scrub all the computers… where is Duela?" the Outlaw mused, realizing she had been strangely absent since they'd gotten back.
"Um I haven't seen her since Trilby…" Enigma said ruefully as the other three nodded and scampered off, doing as they were told in their prospective directions. "Do you want me to go find her?"
He shook his head. "No, you go get started on the clean out, I'll handle Duela."
"I can help?" Mia offered in her mild tone.
"No," Jason asserted, "you, my little firebug, are staying with Schizo."
"Wait, I'm on babysitting duty?"
"Fuck yeah," Jason replied not appreciating the lip. "And if the next words out of your mouth aren't, "Thank you, JT, I would love to do my part and help the team," I'm gonna fucking strangle you."
As this commotion took place below, Duela placed her hand to the cold surface of the mirror. Her form looked blurry in the fog as the condensation clung to the glass, her palm slowly wiping it away. Her reflection peered back through the black eye liner pooling under her eyes. The lines in her face creased, disgusted with the sight of her. This was somehow her fault, after all.
Her mind drifted to the moment before she entered the bar, as she'd taken a moment for herself to smoke a cigarette. She'd upset him after all, something she never intended to do. She just hoped if she played her cards right, that maybe she could have her cake and eat it too. But it was clear that was easier said than done. She knew that the second she saw Trilby, cut up and rotting on the filthy sidewalk, her blue eyes cloudy as they peered up at nothing like a ghost.
A sickness took hold of her and she fled from the group. Bounding through the bar and up the stairs, into her apartment, barely making it to the bathroom where she purged her guilt in a violent display. The illness was crippling, bringing her to her knees as she gripped the toilet in desperation, hardly able to breathe. Every muscle forcefully rejecting everything within her until nothing was left.
Even once the sickness subsided she remained there, catching her breath, her stomach still trembling. She finally rose to her feet, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner ran down her face from the tears, her make-up a vulgar mess, her lipstick smearing across her face as she wiped the vomit from her mouth and chin. Something about her reflection reminding her of the dead girl just outside.
She pulled off her wig, the sweat at her hairline giving the task some ease. She was left with a filthy feeling and turned on the water, taking a shower, to wash off her guilt, or so she tried. The water only taking away the ruined makeup. And as she stood before her foggy self, she realized that feeling would never come off.
She heard a knock on her door, the sound startling her as she called out, "It's open!" her voice removed as she stepped out of the bathroom.
The door opened, the girl expecting it to be Enigma as she didn't bother getting dressed or even turn to face her new guest.
"If you're worried about me don't be," she added opening her drawer.
"If you think that's gonna put my mind at ease then you should probably strengthen your pitch."
She paused, the timber of the voice familiar and deeply male.
She turned, her face frozen in shock and a little embarrassment. "Shit I didn't know it was you."
"I kinda got that impression," Jason replied, Duela standing there in nothing but a towel. Though awkward situations between them were nothing out of the ordinary.
"I'm just gonna go get dressed," she replied pointing to the bathroom and motioned in.
He nodded as she filed in just beyond the wall. Jason stepped forward and leaned with his back by the doorway.
"Not to be that guy, but I'm short on time, regardless, you okay?"
She paused catching her reflection in the mirror, her brow sinking at the sight. "Are you?"
"I just found my dead barmaid, what'd you think?"
"That you just answered your own question," she replied peering out from behind the door.
The two shared a melancholy glance, one they'd known since childhood.
"I know this isn't really the time, but I'm sorry I sprung that shit on you."
"Don't worry about it," Jason replied, "we have bigger problems. Gordon's on his way with a warrant to search the place."
"Jesus," she frowned.
"Yeah long story short I need you to get everything you shouldn't have and give it to Raven to get rid of. Then I need you to help Enigma scrub every computer. Can you do that?"
"Does Monica still have that Blue Dress?"
"That's my girl," Jason smiling at her like he once had.
A blush warmed her face as she replied. "Well let me finish getting dressed and I'll get to it."
"I appreciate it," Jason replied and headed for the door, pulling it open. "Y'know, you should really consider adding that bit about that Blue Dress in your act."
She smiled, if nothing else they shared a sickness of humor. "Maybe I will, Toddy."
He smiled at his childhood nickname, the sound of it holding an odd sense of home. He closed the door and left her to herself, her smile fading as she once again found herself face to face with herself. An uphill battle she was always destined to fight. Only now the question was, could she ever win.
At the risk of reading like a bad Titans subplot, Raven opened a portal that would lead to Roy's apartment. They'd gotten the call from Kaufman, Gotham PD would be arriving at any moment. Dick, Jason and X all scurried to get every piece of the contraband gone, knowing they could be caught at any given moment.
"Okay, Mia take this and go through that portal," Dick ordered pointing the amazed and frightened girl to the black abyss before her.
"Um, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this?" she stammered nervously.
"Seriously, you've probably done things to guys I'm not even comfortable thinking about," Rose commented, urging the girl to act.
"Not willingly," she groaned and shook her blonde head. "What do I do?"
"Just walk through it," Dick urged, "it's admittedly a little trippy, but it's painless, I promise."
X picked up the last of the bags and walked toward her. "Come on, I'm a portal virgin too, we can pop this cherry together... but not in the way of me going to jail."
"Nice save, douchebag," Jason grimaced patronizingly.
"Not every attempt at humor is in good taste," X defended. "You should know that better than anyone, Jaybird."
"Fuck off and take my drugs to safety," the Outlaw replied.
X smiled smugly and guided Mia toward the direction of the portal. "You're lucky I don't do'em. Save us a lot of trouble and all that shit."
"Yeah if any of that shit comes back light, I'll kill you."
"Yeah I'd like to see you try, asshole. Have fun getting your shit wrecked during a cavity search," X add with a two finger wave.
"Wait, do they actually do that?" Rose asked as she'd miraculously never been arrested or present during a search and seizure.
"No!" both bat brothers confirmed uncomfortably.
"They only do that if you go to jail," Dick confirmed. "X is just being an asshole, pun intended."
"Oh that's real nice, Chuckles," X whined. "But actually, that can be issued as part of a warrant."
"Fuck off," he replied, though Dick knew he was right. "And quit dawdling before we all get arrested."
"Okay, we're going," X replied pushing Mia forward. "But seriously good luck."
"Yeah, Yeah, just go before all we get fucking pinched," Jason droned.
He turned noticing Rose standing with her arms crossed, not yet moving.
"Hey you mind, giving us a minute, Dick?" he asked.
He glanced over at Rose and nodded. "Yeah, but make it quick, Gordon's gonna be here any minute," and headed into mouth of the portal.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier," Jason said.
"It's okay, I get it," she replied, but still didn't look at him. "This is so insane."
"Yeah no shit." He paused not really knowing what to say, he knew time was running out. "Well you should probably go. Grayson's not wrong, they'll be here any minute."
"I guess?" she sighed, not really crazy about leaving him to clean up what she suspected could possibly be her mess.
She took a step forward, looking into the deep void, a little amazed. He turned, but only looked over his shoulder, glancing back at her one last time. He exhaled and turned, he just couldn't leave it like that.
"Listen Rose, I know I fucked up earlier, but I just want you to know whatever happens, I just want you to be safe."
She frowned at him. "But what if whatever happens to you is my fault?"
"It won't be, but even if it is, I want you to get as far away from here as humanly possible. If this whole RICO thing goes down, then it's too late for me, you on the other hand, you still have a shot. I want you to take it."
"But—" she began, but he stopped her.
"No buts, Rose. Just do it. I can live with what happens to me, but I can't live with ruining your life."
She tried to refute his claim, but he kissed her, stealing her argument before it could even be spoken.
"I love you," he breathed, knowing he might not get another chance to tell her.
"Gotham PD, we have a warrant to search the premises!" a voice yelled shattering the moment.
Rose's brow knit with worry as Jason pulled away, leaving her stunned, her nature somehow lost in the moment.
"I gotta go and so do you," he urged and pushed her toward the portal.
"Come with me!"
"I can't," Jason replied ready to push her through the portals mouth, "this is my mess."
She opened her mouth to reply, but was met with him pushing her away and into the dark energy. He watched as the portal closed, leaving him staring at the bare wall a moment, but he pulled it together to face the threat that waited below.
"Let just hope X isn't right about that cavity search."
The bar flooded with law enforcement officers, Commissioner Gordon armed with his search warrant in hand. The document clearly warranting the seizure of any guns or weapons, both legal and illegal. It also permitted the confiscation of phones and computers, all of which were either smuggled out, distorted or scrubbed clean.
Still, Jason couldn't help but feel nervous. Anything could happen, this was Gotham after all.
The sound of glass hitting the floor filled the room, bottles and boxes being torn throughout, dumped out with no care. There was something humiliating about it, but Jason didn't have the heart to care; humiliation was something he'd grown coarse to. But that still didn't mean he was just gonna let them tear up his bar.
"Hey can you be careful with shit?" He scoffed after Bullock Jr. carelessly broke an expensive bottle of Gin.
The officer looked over at the Outlaw and shrugged, casually knocking a bottle of Captain's to the floor where it shattered. "Shit, sorry, man."
Jason rolled his eyes as scowled. "Y'know Gordon, I'd appreciate if you'd ask your bumbling shitheads to not destroy my place of business."
"Well, unfortunately for you, that shithead is doing his job."
"And what job would that be?" Jason drawled daringly, "being a shitty cop or weaseling his way into your good graces?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know, ask your daughter."
The Commissioner's face fell to anger; Jason (per usual) had hit a nerve, but before he could react, Harvey Jr. made a discovery.
"Commissioner, I found a Mossberg 500 under the counter."
"That is a legal firearm," Kaufman asserted, zeroing in, "and I can assure you my client has all the proper permits and paperwork. It's not covered under the warrant."
"Is that true, Todd?" Gordon asked sternly.
"It is," he glared, his blood more than boiling, "but it's not mine."
"It's mine," Hogan proclaimed, "I keep the paperwork in the safe downstairs. If you follow me I'll show you."
"We can get it ourselves," the older Bullock replied.
"Not without the combination," Hogan snorted, "Which I don't have to give you."
"Like hell you don't," he sneered, "no combination, means no proof of paperwork, which means you're in possession of an illegal weapon."
"Not so fast, my client is not, under any circumstances, required to give you the combination to his safe, especially if he is willing to open it himself," Kaufman recited. "As for that threat, I will gladly take you to task on that, I'm sure a judge would love to hear you try and justify a direct civil rights violation."
"He's right, Bullock," Gordon conceded warily, taking control once more. "Here, I'll escort Mr. Hogan."
Gordon, glared at the Outlaw, giving him a look of fair warning and headed in the direction of the basement, Kaufman following to observe that everything be carried out by the letter. Leaving Jason and his childhood bully to play nice.
"That was awfully ballsy of you," Bullock said. "If you said that shit about my daughter, I'd have slugged you."
"Oddly enough that comment was more directed towards you being a slimy cunt," Jason retorted. "Barb can do whatever she wants, including a fucking a pig like you."
"I think I liked you better dead," the officer said smugly.
"Join the club," Jason countered unfazed, "but if it's any consolation, "I liked you better when you were getting the bridge of your nose snapped like a toothpick."
Harvey looked down his crooked nose; it never healed right. A painful reminder of what happened when you pushed a batboy too far, though the lesson never really stuck.
"Yeah, I was a shithead kid, who wasn't? I recall a certain someone who used to sell pre-written essays and reports for a pretty penny."
"Yeah well I wasn't hurting anyone and feeding on the stupidity of others isn't a crime."
"Plagiarism is."
"I considered myself more of a ghost writer," Jason said smugly.
"Whatever, my point is, you weren't without your faults and you still aren't."
"No shit, and you're still an asshole."
"Right back at'cha, no wonder Barbara can't stand you."
"Barb's no saint," Jason retorted, "don't let her fool you."
"She's more of a saint than you are or could ever be."
"That's not difficult," Jason concluded, again unfazed. "But even so, at least I own it, unlike the rest of you. At least I know the person looking back at me in the mirror."
It was then Gordon returned with the paperwork in hand. "So the gun is legal, however we'll be taking it for the time being."
"Why?" the Outlaw asked.
"Because the warrant states that we can seize all weapons."
"But there's no way that gun was used in the murder, it'd have blown her goddamn head off," Jason said irate.
"You're probably right, but I have a duty to keep this city safe."
"So you're gonna strip me of my right to bare arms? Nice touch, Jim."
"That would only be true if I were taking your gun," Gordon replied, "and that would only count if that gun were legal."
Jason rolled his eyes, the commissioner making a good point: Jason Todd never owned a legal gun in his life.
"Guess beggars can't be choosers after all," Bullock Jr. snickered.
Gordon gave him a glare, unamused with the commentary from the peanut gallery. "Officer Bullock, why don't you go oversee the search downstairs?"
"But I'm not done here—"
"It wasn't a suggestion, son, it was an order," the elder officer replied.
The young officer nodded and made his way from behind the bar, giving Jason one last derogatory look. Once he was gone, Gordon turned his attention back to the Outlaw, recalling the days when he was nothing more than a little street punk, setting fire to dumpsters and stealing cigarettes. He couldn't help but feel bad for him then; he truly wasn't a bad kid, just a victim of his circumstance. His father was rarely home, being the only source of income. Leaving Jason to look after his father's junky girlfriend, Catherine, most of the time, and his elderly grandmother, Ginger. (She was actually quite scrappy as he recalled.) But even though it broke his heart to see that little boy scraping miserably through life, Jim always knew that one day, Jason Todd would grow to be a man of his opposition. And that day had finally come.
"I honestly think your Grandmother would be very disappointed in what you've become, Jason. Catherine too."
"Well I guess it's a good thing they're dead," Jason grimaced coldly, not appreciating Gordon speaking of either woman.
"I mean that," the Commissioner said brushing off the front, he could see right through it. "Y'know, there was once a time when I honestly wanted to see you make something of yourself, because you actually could—you still could, but you won't. You hate the world too much."
Jason smiled earnestly, he'd nearly forgotten how far back he and the commissioner had gone, he'd known him longer than Bruce or Dick oddly enough.
"Funny, I always felt like the world hated me," he replied. "So what are you gonna do commissioner?"
"For now, I can't do anything to you," he admitted, "I can't prove you're the Red Hood, but when I do, I'm going to do the right thing, and bring you to justice."
"If this is one of those, I'm gonna save your soul moments, Com—"
"It's not," he replied cutting him off, "I tried to help you when you were a kid, that's why I helped Bruce become your guardian, but now, I know I can't help you. All I can do is make you pay for the crimes you've committed as a man."
"None of which you can prove," Jason said darkly.
"Not yet, but I will."
Hogan rummaged through the safe removing old paperwork and produced the title of the firearm.
"See perfectly legal," the older man smiled as he puffed his cigar.
"So it is," Harvey Jr. agreed with a little loss in his voice.
Apparently this search was less fruitful than he'd hoped.
Just then his father could be heard as he called the younger Bullock to his side. He looked in his father's direction and excused himself from for the moment.
"Yeah dad, what's up?"
"We gotta find something here or we're gonna look like fools," Bullock barked quietly.
"Tell me about it."
"They musta moved everything."
"But how?"
"You'd be surprised, kid," the bullish man replied and looked around. "Did you notice anything interesting in the safe?"
"Just some money and some papers, nothing unusual."
"Did you read any if it?"
"No, it's not in the search warrant."
"That doesn't mean it can't be used in RICO," his father added with a devious smirk.
The younger officer frowned. "RICO? Is the FBI trying to build a case?"
"Not exactly," Bullocked replied, "it's another government agency that deals with gangs of this nature."
"You mean metahumans and vigilantes," Harvey Jr. clarified.
His father nodded. "Exactly, and in case you haven't noticed, Gotham P.D. isn't exactly well equipped for either."
"So what are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting we fix that."
The mid-day sun crept in through the slight opening in the curtain, highlighting the neglected floor. The scratched wood beneath, thick with dust as it rose into the lit air. The static hum of a fan buzzed, a half-naked pair shamelessly slung over a disheveled mattress, still stinking of booze from the night before.
Since his release, Tony Zucco had been hitting a life of poor decisions pretty hard. Flagrantly celebrating his freedom with gluttonous nights of drinking, drugs and barsluts. These displays of debauchery, destructive. But nonetheless something to be expected given he'd spent the better part of a decade stripped of his liberties. A time where he thought he'd never taste life from beyond the bars of his cell.
A sharp noise began to sing, a high sound that rang with an odd cheeriness that didn't quite fit the filth of the place. A deep groan erupted from his bare chest, his arm flopping limp like a dying fish. He couldn't quite drink like he used to, or better yet, he didn't bounce back like he once did. But that was to be expected for someone on the older side of their 30's. His head sluggishly rose from the pillow, the sound of his phone still pulling him out of the near coma he'd fallen into.
"Turn that shit off," the mess of a woman beside him barked, her makeup a runny mess from the night before.
"Fuck off," he grunted, not appreciating the way her tone struck his pounding head. "Stupid bitch." He reached for the phone and took it in his hand, barely move from his place on the mattress. "What?"
"Is that really all I get?" the voice on the other end answered, clearly annoyed.
Tony barely even opened his eyes, his face still laid against the pillow. "First thing in the morn'n y'do, Santo."
"It's well passed noon?"
"Same fucking thing."
Santo rolled his eyes as he could almost smell the liquor from over the phone. "You need to slow down, Zucco. Haven't you learned anything?"
"Yeah, life in prison blows, what the fuck do you want?"
The mob leader paused. He recalled Zucco's sentencing and all the details that led to him solely taking the fall. But even still (through all right) he'd paid his debt, there was still interest to be paid.
"Yeah about that…"
"What the fuck man?" Zucco slurred, his head pounding from the sound of his own voice.
"Listen," Santo urged, trying to calm the beast. "I know you did your time and I know you were told you'd be off Scott free."
"There's supposed to be a hundred grand waiting for me. That was the fucking deal! Now where's my fuck'n money, you fucking prick?"
"He has it, and you'll get it… once I deliver my end of the bargain," Santo concluded.
"Your end of the bargain?" Zucco questioned peeling himself off the mattress angrily. "You weren't even a part of the deal!"
"No, but Cosa Nostra was," he clarified. "And as the Head of The Family, it has become my obligation to fulfill."
"At the expense of my fuck'n payment!"
"Tony, listen to me. All we gotta do is deliver and that's it. You get your money. I get my territory back." Santo assured.
"And what does the delivery look like?"
"Like a dead Hood."
"You gotta be fuck'n kidding me," Zucco grunted through his pounding head.
"I'm not," Santo sighed. "Mikey was supposed to take care of it, but he fucked up."
"You left that shit up to Mikey?" the con questioned with a deep frown.
"I had my reasons… It was a bad call. Little shit even dragged my daughter into this shit."
Zucco shook his head realizing he'd have to fix this mess then wash his hands of the whole thing, especially since Santo was ill fitted for the throne he'd inherited. "So what are we do'n?"
"Kill'n two birds with one stone."