A/N: Yeah, Jason's language is still pretty bad in this chapter so, sorry about that. But on the bright side, he is kicking ass as Red Hood! :D
Also, quite a few people commented in reviews and PM's that I really beat up on Dick/Robin and asked me why. In response, I honestly have no idea. It's a sickness. And its also weird because I adore Robin/Dick. Can we just blame the plot bunnies? ;)
oOo
"Jason, wake up," called a voice from somewhere above him, disturbing him from his warm cocoon and making him twitch in annoyance.
Get lost. If this person was smart, he would go away.
No such luck. "Jason," the voice called again, louder and more insistent this time, accompanied by a slight shake of his shoulders.
I will kill this asshole! Jason wrenched his eyes open and found Bruce standing over him. "Buh…Bruce?" he croaked. "What's wrong?"
"I'm checking up on you. Do you know what day it is?"
Jason groaned. "Tell me you didn't wake me at stupid o'clock just to ask what day it is!"
Bruce fixed him with a stern look. "You know how head injuries work, I have to do this. Now, what day is it?"
"Head injuries? What are you– Oh." Jason's heart sank as the nightmare events at Inside Scoop came back to him; Dick had been kidnapped. "It's Tuesday morning...I think. I'm not sure what time it is exactly."
"It's six a.m."
"So it is stupid o'clock." Jason sat up from where he'd been snoozing on the living room couch, raising an eyebrow when he discovered that someone had covered him with a blanket. "Any word?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Nothing." Bruce's expression was tight with worry. He walked over to the armchair by the fire and sat down.
Dammit. Jason ran a frustrated hand through his hair before studying Bruce's exhausted face. "Did you get any sleep?"
Bruce shook his head.
Figures. Jason was a little surprised at himself for falling asleep; he would have thought that his fear for Dick's safety would have had him wearing a hole into the floor. Tilting his head from side to side to stretch out the kinks in his neck, Jason guessed the concussion was responsible for his conking out on the couch. He pushed the blanket off of his legs and swung his feet to the floor, stretching as he did so.
"How's your head?" Bruce asked, watching him.
Jason rubbed his head experimentally, wincing when he touched a sore spot to the back of his skull. At least he wasn't dizzy anymore. "I'll live."
"Do you need anything for pain?"
"Like I said, I'll live."
The older man looked sceptical. "Jason–"
"Bruce, I'm fine. Quit babying me!"
Bruce raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow.
"Sorry," said Jason quietly. "I'm just…on edge."
"I noticed," Bruce replied drily.
They lapsed into silence for several long minutes, staring into the flames dancing merrily in the fireplace. With the Christmas tree behind them, the room should have felt cosy – but without Dick it felt so cold and empty that it may as well have been Antarctica.
Jason's jaw clenched and he continued to stare into the fire, anger festering within. This was so unfair! It had only been three months since Joker's brutal assault on Robin. Why was the universe making them do this fucking dance of fear and worry again? Hadn't they all been through enough? Hadn't Dick suffered enough?
"Oh screw this!" Jason threw his hands up. "Bruce, we can't just sit here. We should be out there, doing something!" His failure to protect Dick at Inside Scoop was eating him alive; it was supposed to be his job to protect him.
"I can't leave the phone in case they contact me," Bruce reminded him. "They indicated that they would in the note."
"So Batman is grounded, doesn't mean Red Hood is."
"Oh, yes, he is! Jason, you're in no condition to go jumping across rooftops."
Jason scowled. "Bruce, I already told you, I'm fine."
"You must think I'm an idiot if you expect me to believe that; a few hours ago, you could hardly stand."
"So? I can stand now!" Jason stood up to demonstrate his point.
"Getting up from a couch and flinging yourself across rooftops are not the same thing. No, I don't want to hear it," Bruce added, raising a finger as Jason opened his mouth to respond. "You'd only put yourself at risk if you went out there as Red Hood."
"And what about Dick?" Jason argued. "You think he's not at risk?"
"Don't presume to tell me what I already know about my own son!" Bruce snapped, getting to his feet and facing Jason with a furious look. "You think this is easy for me? To sit here and do nothing when I know he's out there, alone and in trouble? You aren't the only person who cares about Dick, Jason. He's my son! I've spent the last four and a half years raising him and I'll be damned if I'll let you insinuate that I don't care about him just because I'm trying to look out for you as well!"
Jason took a step back. Aside from this being the first time he was the focus of Bruce's rage, it unsettled him deeply to think of the other man looking out for him. He was a grown ass man; he didn't need anyone looking out for him!
He narrowed his eyes at Bruce. "I can take care of myself! And I never said that you don't care about Dick. But I do think it's fucking stupid not to let Red Hood get out there and look for him just because you think I might fall on my ass or something! I've had worse than this and it hasn't stopped me before."
"You're right." Bruce relaxed his rigid body stance and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Jason, I didn't mean to snap."
Jason shrugged, relaxing his own defensive posture. "It's fine. We're both worried – gives us carte blanche to act like assholes."
Bruce gave him a tired smile. "Let's just try and rein it in, alright? It's not getting us anywhere and–" He stopped speaking as a tinny little noise erupted from his jacket pocket.
"Who the hell is calling you at this hour?" Jason demanded, staring as Bruce withdrew the phone from his jacket pocket.
"Unknown number," Bruce replied, staring at the screen. Quickly he raised the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he answered and his expression darkened.
Jason could tell instantly that it was the kidnappers.
"I received it," Bruce spoke in clipped tones to whoever was on the other end, and Jason could see him clench his fist tightly.
"You don't get anything until I talk to Dick!" Bruce snapped angrily. "Put him on right now!"
Quickly, Jason moved to stand beside Bruce and leaned in to listen, wanting to hear Dick's voice as well.
"Bruce?" a tinny miniature of Dick's voice sounded and Jason had to restrain himself from snatching the phone from the other man.
"Dick, oh, thank God!" Bruce put a hand to his heart. "Are you alright? They haven't hurt you, have they?"
"No, I'm fine. Bruce, is Jason okay? He was with me…"
A lump formed in Jason's throat. Typical Dick; he was the one who'd been kidnapped but he was more worried about Jason. The younger man tapped Bruce's arm. "Tell him I'm fine."
"Jason is fine, just a bump on the head," Bruce reassured Dick. "He's standing beside me right now."
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Bruce glanced at Jason. "Dick?"
"Time's up!" a harsh voice sounded suddenly. "Nine a.m. tomorrow, Wayne, or I'll mail your kid back to you in pieces!" The call disconnected.
Jason was still for several seconds before exploding. "That's IT? That was less than a minute! Those stupid sons of bitches!" Anger, fear, worry and panic were churning away inside him; Jason itched to put his fist through something. Trying to swallow his fear, he turned to Bruce. "They won't hurt him, will they?"
Bruce was staring into space, the phone still pressed to his ear.
Jason nudged him. "Bruce?"
The older man shook himself and lowered the phone. "I need to get to Wayne Enterprises."
"What! Why?"
"Lucius began pulling money from various banks and holdings after they sent that package yesterday," Bruce answered. "He's going to need my signature – and I need to get to Wayne Enterprises so I can get that money moved faster."
"The faster you move the money, the faster you get Dick home," Jason guessed.
"No." Bruce's expression was tight. "That account number they gave me yesterday is for an account in the Cayman Islands. An international wire transfer is going to take longer than they're giving me. I'm going to need to pull some serious strings to get the money through before nine a.m. tomorrow – especially three days before Christmas."
Jason's eyes widened in alarm. "Shit! Can you get it through on time?"
"Yes. But it'll be close."
"This makes no sense!" Jason complained. "Why give you so little time? Don't they want their stupid money?"
"Oh, they want it alright," said Bruce grimly. "They're just making it harder for the police to track them. And they're not worried about whether or not I can pull this off because they know if anyone can do it, I can."
"Bastards," Jason muttered under his breath, his fear and worry ratcheting several notches higher. "Bruce, I can't sit on my ass any longer, I'm going out there to look for Dick."
Bruce held out his cell phone. "Take this. See if you can track them using the number they just called me from."
Jason took the phone. "What if they contact you again?"
Bruce's expression was grim. "They won't. I have my orders and they expect me to follow them."
oOo
It was after one that afternoon when Jason arrived at Wayne Enterprises. His mood was so foul that people literally jumped out of his way as he stalked towards Bruce's office.
He had spent the last few hours trying to track the kidnappers with Bruce's cell phone without any luck. The number of the kidnappers' phone had been unregistered – they had used a disposable cell. Jason had managed to triangulate the location of the unregistered cell using satellites but the location turned out to be the inside of a trash can in Robinson Plaza. The disappointment had nearly sent him into a red rage.
After fishing the phone out of the trash, he had taken it back to the cave and dusted it for prints. To his utter frustration, the phone had been wiped clean. But it was when he hacked into the city security cameras to try and get an image of who had dropped the phone that his frustration really peaked; there were too many damn people in this city! All of them hurrying past one stupid trash can and throwing in their worthless crap.
"Is Bruce in his office?" Jason demanded, stopping at Bruce's secretary's desk.
She jerked a little. "Jason! Oh, um…yes, he is. Mr. Lee and Mr. Fox are with him. Are you alright? You don't look very well."
"I'm fine." Jason brushed off her concern. He only looked like crap because he still hadn't washed the blood out of his hair. "Later, Maggie." Not waiting for her to protest, he entered Bruce's office.
The billionaire was at his desk on a call while Thomas Lee and Lucius Fox watched anxiously from their chairs.
"I don't care how irregular this is," Bruce was saying. "I'm sure you understand that these are extenuating circumstances." He held a pen in his hand, pressing it into the paper on his desk with enough force to puncture a hole in the wood while he listened to the response. "Is that so? Mr. Roberts, let me assure you that our mutually beneficial partnership will end immediately if you cannot find the means to get that money there before tomorrow morning….No, I'm afraid an hour is unacceptable. You have thirty minutes to get back to me."
Bruce hung up the phone and looked at Jason, silently asking if he had anything.
Dejected and angry, Jason shook his head, putting Bruce's cell phone on his desk. "I take it you're having trouble with the money?"
"We've pulled the ten million from various holdings, but I have to get it wired before close of business today to ensure it shows in that damn bank account by morning. And it seems like half of the finance sector are on vacation. It's insane! Are they children? Christmas isn't for another three days!"
Bruce put his head in his hands.
"But there must be something you can do!" Jason said desperately. "It can't be that hard just to transfer money!"
"It is if you want to do it for a large sum in less than twenty-four hours across international channels," Bruce replied. "But if I have to charter a private plane and fly to the damn islands to lodge the money then I'll do it!"
The phone on his desk rang suddenly and Bruce pounced on it. "Hello?" Some of the tension eased from his face. "Jensen, thank you for calling back….uh-huh….uh-huh….do you have a number?" Bruce scribbled furiously. "Jensen, thank you! I owe you big time….yes; I'll let you know….thanks."
He hung up and immediately began to dial another number. "Jensen knows someone in New York that he thinks can help," Bruce told them. "Hello! Can I speak with Andrew Wyle, please? This is Bruce Wayne." He frowned. "Do you know how long he will be? This is very urgent….Yes, I am….Yes, it is….I would appreciate that, thank you….yes, I'll hold." He put a hand over the mouthpiece. "He's in a meeting; she's going to see if she can pull him out."
They waited anxiously, the strained silence only broken by the ringing of another phone.
Thomas Lee pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and hurriedly silenced it. "Sorry," he apologized at once.
Bruce held his hand up in an it's fine gesture, but Jason hardly noticed. He was staring at Thomas Lee. Something about the man sitting on the other side of Bruce's desk was triggering something in him, something that had been bothering him since Dick had been kidnapped; just who had sold them out to the kidnappers? Jason had told no one except Bruce where they were going.
But he had admitted to Lee that he was taking Dick out to celebrate the start of Christmas vacation, and that slimy little worm Justin had been right there when he did. Jason gave a sharp intake of breath. That son of a bitch! Jason would tear him apart if he was behind Dick's kidnapping.
"I've just remembered something," Jason announced loudly, then spun on his heel and marched out of the office without further explanation. He could fill Bruce in later.
Jason's heart was racing as he headed for the security room. He needed to confirm that Justin was behind this before he broke his neck. Goddamm idiot, Todd! he berated himself. Why didn't you think of this sooner?
Maybe because you were concussed? the annoying little voice of reason that popped into his head from time to time suggested.
Shut up! Jason berated himself. He wasn't quite ready to let go of his guilty feelings just yet.
The two guards manning the security cameras jumped in surprise when Jason entered the security room – which was hardly surprising since Jason hadn't been in there since his first day at Wayne Enterprises. But that didn't mean that Jason was going to stand on ceremony now. "I need you to bring up the camera from the main hallway on level ten at two thirty yesterday afternoon," he ordered, approaching the younger guard.
The man looked confused. "Sir?"
"Are you an idiot?!" Jason snapped. "Do it now!"
Jerking around to face the computer screen, the man typed out several commands. "This is it," he offered nervously.
"Let it play," Jason commanded and the man hastily complied.
Jason watched himself approach Thomas Lee's office on the monitor and stick his head into the room. While he watched, he calculated that the time elapsed from when he had left that office until he and Dick had arrived at Inside Scoop had to be at least forty minutes. Jason knew that didn't give much time for anyone to set up a kidnapping, but if they were already prepared and just waiting on a signal…
There!
Jason scowled when he saw Justin leaving Lee's office less than three minutes later. He leaned on the table and pointed at the screen. "Where did he go next?"
"Uh…" The man's hands once more flew over the keypad. "He stopped in the lobby to make a phone call and then…" he continued to track Justin's movements "…he went back to his desk."
"How long was he on that call?" Jason demanded.
The man checked the video. "Approximately three minutes and thirty-nine seconds, Sir."
That son of a bitch! Jason stared at the screen. Justin was definitely the one who had handed Dick over to the kidnappers. An old, familiar rage started to build inside Jason.
Red Hood was going to rip out Justin's eyes and force-feed them to him.
oOo
By the time Jason arrived at Lori Sanderson's apartment, he was in an exceptionally dangerous frame of mind.
A visit to HR had told him where Justin lived. Following a quick pit stop at his own apartment to pick up his costume and weapons, Jason had arrived at the shithole Justin called home. The dirty, ramshackle little flat was located in one of Gotham's more unsavoury areas, and Justin had done nothing to improve its décor; the whole place was littered with beer cans and empty pizza boxes.
There had been no sign of Justin though, and Jason had proceeded to rip the place apart in an effort to find some clue as to where he might be. Justin's location had revealed itself in the form of a photograph of Lori, the blond bimbo from Flash Harry's. Jason clenched a fist. He was beginning to suspect that Lori wasn't quite the bimbo she appeared to be.
Making sure to smash Justin's bedroom window as he exited the apartment via the fire escape, Jason's mood grew worse when he discovered that it was starting to snow. He may have been waiting for days to see the white stuff blanket Gotham, but why did it have to start now, when Dick was out there in nothing but a thin shirt and pants! Talk about lousy fucking timing.
Neither Lori nor Justin had been at Flash Harry's, but a quick chat with Lori's boss to the back of Flash Harry's had revealed not only her surname but where she lived. It had only taken Jason ten minutes on his motorcycle to get there.
It was snowing hard by the time Jason landed with a thump on the roof of Lori's apartment block, and the combination of cold and rage was making him clench his teeth so hard it hurt. Entering the building via the vents on the roof, Jason was careful not to let anyone see him as he slipped down to 7b – Lori's apartment – where he picked the lock and let himself in.
In direct contrast to Justin's place, Lori's was clean and brightly lit. Jason had to wonder what she was doing with a loser like Justin; she was a woman who liked power and money, and Justin had neither of those things. He was a gambling addict heavily in debt to a bunch of gangsters, and he lived in a craphole.
Jason made his way towards the bedroom from where some very familiar noises were emanating. Withdrawing his gun, he burst into the room, causing Lori to scream and Justin to swear.
Jason was too angry to be amused by the two sets of terrified eyes peering at him over the blankets. "Out of the bed, Lee, now," he snarled, keeping his voice two octaves lower than usual.
Justin hesitated. "I…uh…"
"Out. Now!" Jason barked. "I don't care how naked you are!"
Justin slid out from under the covers and Jason was mildly relieved to see he was wearing boxers. Despite his words, Justin naked was a view Jason really didn't want to see.
Justin stood with his hands in the air, trembling as Jason kept his gun pointed at him and came around the bed. "W-who are you?" he stammered. "Wha- what do you want?"
"Name's Red Hood," Jason answered. "Now tell me where the hell Dick Grayson is!"
Justin's jaw literally fell open. "How do you–?"
"Never mind how I know!" Jason shouted. "Where is he?"
"I…I don't know," Justin stammered.
"Wrong answer!" Jason smashed a fist into Justin's face, then grabbed him and threw him into the dresser where he crashed into the bottles arranged in a neat row, shattering them. Lori screamed as Jason picked him up again and kneed him in the stomach before dropping him to the ground.
"Where is he?" Jason ground out, standing over the gasping Justin.
"I'm telling you, I don't know!" Justin gasped, his lip bleeding.
Jason responded by grabbing his head and slamming it into the floor.
"I don't know, I swear!" Justin screamed, clutching at his head.
Jason dropped to his haunches and pointed his gun into Jason's crotch. "You called those men and told them where Jason Todd was taking Dick Grayson, so don't tell me that you don't know where he is! Now start talking before I start shooting body parts."
"I'm not lying," Justin moaned, looking like he might start sobbing at any minute. "I only called them to let them know the kid was on his way to the ice-cream place. I have no idea where they took him after that."
"Then you call them and– I don't think so, Princess!" Jason pulled out his second gun and aimed it at Lori, who had been trying to ease out from under the covers to make a run for it. "Get back in bed. Try to move again and I'll break your leg."
Lori immediately complied.
Jason looked back at Justin, who was trembling and whimpering. "Get out your phone and call your buddies."
"They're not my–"
"Call them!"
"I can't–"
Jason pistol-whipped Justin and something cracked. The man screamed and clutched at his jaw.
"Listen to me you piece of shit," said Jason in a low voice. "You have ten seconds to get your buddies on the phone or you'll spend the rest of your life singing soprano." He cocked the trigger of the gun that was aimed at Justin's crotch to emphasize his point.
"But I can't– NO! NO!" he screamed as Jason prepared to fire. "You don't understand; it's not me! I've been trying to get hold of them all day – they're not picking up!"
"So what you're basically telling me is that I have no reason to keep you alive?" Jason questioned, bringing his gun up to point at the sobbing man's temple.
"P-please don't kill me," Justin whimpered, holding his hands up in a gesture of prayer. "I'll do anything!"
"Right now the only thing that would save your pathetic, worthless carcass is to tell me where Dick Grayson is, or the men who have him."
"If you knew where the kid is, would you leave him alone?" Lori spoke up suddenly.
Slowly, Jason turned towards her. She was sitting up, clutching the bed sheets against herself. "Excuse me?" he asked in a dangerous voice. "You wanna repeat that?"
She raised her chin defiantly. "If you knew where the kid is, would you leave him alone?"
Jason stood up, his attention on her now. "But he doesn't know, does he?"
She bit her lip, her eyes going between Justin and Jason.
Jason moved closer to her. "Now, why would you ask me a question like that when he just said he doesn't know where the boy is?" He put one knee on the bed and pointed the gun in her face. "Want to tell me what you know, Princess?"
"What makes you think I know anything?"
"Call it a hunch." Jason pointed the gun directly into her nose, forcing the tip of it sideways. "But let me tell you this, Sweetheart, I have absolutely no problem beating the shit out of a woman."
She swallowed. "You work for Batman, right? Batman wouldn't–"
Jason let out a harsh laugh. "Newsflash, Princess; I'm not Batman." He leaned closer. "And I've killed for less than this."
"He's at the old crackerjack factory in the East village!" she cried quickly.
Immediately, Jason whirled and whacked Justin with the butt of his gun, knocking the man out cold. Then he dragged him back towards the bed and removed a pair of handcuffs from his jacket, chaining Justin to the iron bedstead.
He turned back to Lori, who was watching him warily. "You wouldn't."
Jason removed a second pair of cuffs. "Watch me."
She started to shriek as he restrained her, cuffing her wrists to the headboard. "What are you doing? You can't leave us like this!"
"It's not for long. The boys in blue should be here soon enough to cart you off to a nice, cold cell."
"At least let me get dressed first," she begged.
"I wouldn't worry, Princess," sneered Jason. "I doubt the cops will be interested in trash like you."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not trash!"
Jason leaned down close to her face. "You're right, you're not. You were involved in the kidnapping of an innocent kid…that makes you worse than trash." She flushed furiously as he straightened up. "Enjoy prison, Bitch."
Then Jason turned and left the room, stalking back in the direction he had come. Hang on, Dick, he thought. I'm coming.