It was a cold night in Gotham and sitting on the cold concrete roof of a building did not help matters. Shouldn't be long now, just have to wait for the buyer, then Jason could bust his ass, get that shit off the streets and be home in time for a late dinner and some Ks before heading out to see his lieutenants in the morning. All in a day's work… well day and a bit. Trying to control crime in Gotham wasn't easy.

Dick called him a crime lord, and, although he could see the similarities, crime lords usually try to create crime, Jason's just trying to direct it. Keep the kids safe from drugs and keep the prostitutes safe from Johns and pimps; he was just trying to keep his corner of Gotham a little safer. After all it's not like he ever saw the Bats come round. Not to these down-and-out places, where living in a box in a draughty alleyway was a better life than in an apartment with abusive guardians. Where children would look up to the skies in the hope that someday the Batman himself would swoop down and save them.

No, Bruce was too busy for these parts. He only came here if a case prescribed it, and even then he wouldn't let any of his protégés down here, it's too dangerous. Which was why he was so surprised to see Red Robin running over his rooftops a few months back. Turned out the kid had moved into the theatre opposite Crime Alley. He always was a little too obsessed with Bruce to be healthy.

Then again, Jason couldn't be bothered with what the Pretender was up to, or at least he tried to tell himself that, because ever since the kid turned up in Gotham word had it that the Replacement had been becoming more and more like him. Then he stole his other suit, and Jason couldn't see past his anger yet again.

But there was always that voice in the back of his head,

"Be my Robin," and God did he mean it. Still did.

His helmet was getting tight, claustrophobic, and for a moment he was struggling to breathe. Jason released the clasps and pulled the signature helmet off, taking a deep gulp of semi-fresh Gotham air as he did.

It would mean he wouldn't get any Bat comms whilst it was off, but it didn't matter, O was the only one that talked to him often anyway, and she was away this week. Everything else was mindless chatter between N and Robin or Bruce and his birds. He still had his old communicator in his ear though, it wasn't as high tech and secure as the new system, but he liked to have it in just in case someone managed to hack in to call for help, he needed to be prepared.

Gotham had a biting wind at this time of year, at all times of year really, and Jason could feel it starting to burn his cheeks. The sting grounded him; the feeling was just so… Gotham. It reminded him why he was here and what he was fighting for. Gotham.

The sound of a car brought Jason back to the situation at hand. The buyer was here. Good, Jason smiled, he needed some—

"Red Robin to all points, I could use some assistance in an alley off 5th and Hamilton." Jason was startled at first, he wasn't wearing his hood so it took him a moment to realise the call came over his earpiece. Then the confusion set in, why would the Bats be using the old system?

Jason waited a moment for the inevitable reply from one of the others confirming they were on their way, but it never came.

Jason's brow furrowed, the drug deal forgotten.

There was pain seeped in Tim's voice and surely the others had heard? Unless they were no longer monitoring the old comm lines. Then why would Red Robin be using it? If he knew they weren't using the line…

A painful gasp and moan came through the comm and the answer hit him like a freight train.

The kid didn't know.

He's running before he can think. Hamilton and 5th's not that far, he can make it in four minutes tops; Jason just hopes that's fast enough.

He can hear the fight two streets away, the metal clanging of a pipe on brick filling his ears. If it's just a guy with a metal pipe how is the kid having such a hard time dispatching him? A dull thud rang out followed by a short cry and moments later a bloodcurdling scream. Jason's heart skipped a beat and he threw himself into the alley as fast as he physically possibly could.

Jason was almost too late.

One minute he's dropping into the alleyway, the next he's bashing a guy's brains in with a metal pipe. He drops, unmoving, and Jason lets the pipe fall to the floor. He didn't intend to do that but the sight of the kid in a blood soaked suite, being beaten to death with a pipe… he'd seen red.

Tim probably wouldn't care anyway.

… Tim…

"Fuck."

It was bad. Bad enough that Jason couldn't tell where the suit ended and the blood began.

Fuck.

He had to get him to the cave… the bunker… the hospital if necessary. He leaned over, checking the kid's airways. His breathing was wet and bubbly. Shit that was Really Bad.

"Kid, c'mon, please don't die on me. Tim, I need you to hold on buddy, I'm gonna get you home 'kay?"

"Bruce?" Jason's heart dropped at the small whisper.

Fuck.

The kid thought he was Bruce, the man who probably had no idea his son was slowly bleeding out in a back alley in fuck knows where Gotham.

Tim sucked in a breath. It sounded short and painful; Jason had to get the cowl off, it can't be doing anything to help him. As Jason slowly nudged the cowl up he could see the swollen, blood dried bruises forming on the kid's face, and Tim flinched away from his touch.

"Tim, can you hear me? I need to move you okay?"

"Bruce… you came."

"Fuck," Jason cursed as he lifted Tim as gently as he could into his arms. It ripped a scream from him anyway. Tim's head rolled onto his shoulder, he was out cold and it was probably for the best.

He carried Tim gingerly to the main street, cursing himself for not picking up his helmet in his rush to get over; he could really use a pick up about now. Instead, he scanned the street for anyone getting in or out of their car, not wanting to put Tim down or jostle him more than necessary.

"Oh thank God," he sighed in relief. There was someone just parking about fifty yards up the road. "Hey man, I need to borrow your car!" Jason shouted at him.

The man, probably in his early thirties, startled. He numbly handed over his keys and even opened the passenger side door so Jason could slip Tim in.

"Thanks, I'll bring it back," Jason told him before driving carefully away.

He won't, but he'll make sure Wayne Enterprises, Batman Inc. or whatever it was nowadays, delivered a new one. The bloodstains would never come out anyhow.

The journey to the bunker was taking too long, but the last thing Jason wanted was to damage Tim further. So he drove swiftly, but carefully, exploiting the traffic light controller Babs had set up for him as much as possible.

He dialed the bunker, hoping that at this time of night it would be Alfred who answered.

"Master Jason, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Thank God.

"Alf… you need to get the med bay ready. It's Tim and… it's bad."

Silence rang over the line, though Jason could swear he heard the old man take a shaky breath.

"Understood Master Jason," came the reply; the line clicked off and the bunker doors opened.

"Not long now Timmy, you're gonna be okay. Alf will fix you right up," Jason said, mostly to himself. The only reason he knew he wasn't talking to a corpse was the shaky rasps he could hear every few seconds.

Fuck.

To his relief there were no other vehicles in the Bunker, both Bruce and his birds must be out for the night. He pulled up as close as possible to the med bay, leaving just enough room to get Tim out and onto the gurney.

"My god!" The butler gasped, eyes wide, as he looked up from reading the med bay. His face paled, and he briefly hesitated in horror, before getting back to business. "Bring him here gently, we must get that suit off him as soon as possible and stop the bleeding."

Jason could do nothing but nodd and gently collect Tim from the passenger seat, setting him down on the cot and looking to Alfred for his next instruction.

"Good, now bring me the scissors in the top draw of the cabinet to your left."

Jason did as asked, as Alfred slipped some gloves over his medical gown. The butler was focused on the wound when he returned, trying to find the best place to but the suit off.

"Master Jason, I am going to need you to hold Master Timothy on his side, the suit is only going to come off by cutting the seam on his back."

Tim groaned as they moved him, but thankfully did not regain consciousness. Alfred's practiced hands quickly cut the suit from Tim's small body, until they could carefully peal off both the undersuit and armour.

Tim's was a collage of bruises cuts and welts and Jason could pick out almost all the places he was hit with the pipe by eye. Surely his armour should have protected him better than that?

Jason saw red.

"Where's Bruce?" The question came out as far too much of a growl, but the point stood.

Alfred looked up from his work, "Master Bruce is working late at the office," he said, his tone seeped in disappointment. "Master Jason, I need you to put some gloves on, I am going to need some help."

By the time Jason got to Bruce's office he was seething in anger, fist clenched around Tim's blood stained suit.

"Good evening Jason, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Bruce said, not even having the audacity to look up from his desk. He threw the suit, letting himself smirk, satisfied, as it hit the man in the face with a squelch.

Jason had debated the entire drive whether to confront Bruce with or without his helmet on, as much as he wanted to let Bruce see his righteous anger, the impassionate blank stare of the mask would probably unnerve the man more. Jason tried hard to hold back a growl as the man looked up at him, unconcerned. Behind the mask he seethed.

"I hope your pleased with yourself," he said, finally, as he regain control of his breathing. "Do you even care? That you've failed, that another one of your Robins is dead? Shot and beated to death in a back alley that the rest of you haven't bothered patrolling in months."

"I-" the man faltered and Jason could see the recognition, the sudden change in the man. His eyes widened, his breath hitched the smallest amount. "He's-?"

"Gone. All because you... what? Didn't update his communicator as... punishment?" his voice lowering to a disbelieving growl. "I can't imagine what he would have to do to receive such a harsh punishment. It can't be kill someone, I regularly shoot people to death and I still got a fancy new helmet. And to be honest the kid didn't seem like the type to be able to go through with it. Hell, your own kid straight up decapitated a minor crook when he first arrived.

"So what was it huh? Did he plan on blowing up half the city? Finally going off and joining Ra's? Turn into Anakin when I wasn't looking and murder a bunch of children? What was it Bruce? 'cuase whatever it was I can guarantee you, me and your kid's done worse."

Bruce looked at the suit in his hands and Jason could see the blood slowly staining both them and his shirt. It occurred to him, with a measure of glee, that he's probably ruined a suit worth more than his yearly rent.

"He set Boomerang up."

Jason was floored... the Kid had actually done it? He'd killed someone? Jesus had Jason read him wrong. Tim was such a goodie two shoes that Jason had him as the least likely of them to do the deed; behind even Bruce for God's sake. Jason didn't think he'd have the guts, that his sense of right and wrong was so strict that he'd have an aneurism just thinking about it.

Boy, was he ever wrong.

"The kid did it? He killed Boomerang?"

"No. He set him up, couldn't go through with it."

Jason couldn't help but laugh, broken and disbelieving, at his 'father'.

"I'm sorry, I thought you just said that you got the kid killed because he didn't kill someone. I realise that I must of misheard you, because even you can't be that egotistical."

"I- he- it was meant to dissuade him from patrolling."

"Dissuade him from patrolling? Have you ever actually met Tim? I beat the crap out of him, twice, Damian almost killed him, he stole my other suit when he was convinced you were alive and everyone told him he was crazy. Simply cutting him off from the comms upgrade wasn't going to stop him from patrolling," Bruce looked away guiltily, "What else did you do?"

"I took back control of Wayne Enterprises."

Jason let out a low growl. That must have hurt. Wayne Enterprises had become Tim's life, managing the company whilst Bruce was off setting up his Batman Inc. It was something even Jason knew the kid to the utmost pride in, having it ripped away from him, well Jason knows what it's like to be reckless when he's emotional.

He couldn't stand to be there anymore, he had more important places to be.

"Jason, I'm so-" Bruce said as he turned to leave,

"Fuck you Bruce, I'm not even remotely close the person you should be apologising to." He opened the window he'd come in by, and paused before he jumped out "I hope you can live with yourself."