A/N: This features one of my favorite comic characters period. You might notice a tad bit of hero worship.
-DMC-
(Chicago, Illinois…)
The midwestern city was chilly this time of year, especially at night. A lone woman was walking down the streets of one of the city's seedier districts at a steady pace. She had a blue puffy coat on, and a knit hat over long brown hair.
The street she walked on was mostly quiet, no cars cruising through this area. What little could be heard was the vulgar chatter of a few guys loitering the street corner.
There were three guys in all, most likely a part of a gang. One was wearing a white hoodie under a puffy vest, the other wearing just a plain black hoodie and hat, while the third and biggest of the trio wore a thick coat. All three were heavily smoking cigarettes.
One of the men eyeballed the woman heavily as she passed them, another whistling. Feeling uncomfortable, she hurried her pace and rounded a corner.
The larger of the hoodlums nodded in the woman's direction, a motion for the others to follow after her. The woman hardly noticed that they were tailing her as she made her way down an empty alleyway.
The snickering thugs followed her down the alley.
The multiple sounds of splashes in alley puddles alerted the woman to the fact she was being followed. She turned, gasping at the three menacing figures approaching her from the darkness.
"No… oh God, no…" she breathed, eyes widening in horror as the realization of her situation set in.
The big one called out, "Hey ma, where ya' going?" Just as the woman turned to run, a strong hand gripped her arm, and roughly slammed her against a brick wall to make her cry out. Two of the thugs pinned her by each arm, the leader slowly approaching, "Why you running? What's the hurry, huh?"
A dirty hand covered the woman's mouth before she could scream out. Her eyes watered as her head struggled to move in her panic. The leader shushed her, his hand roughly going to her throat, "Now now don't make a scene, after all, who's here to watch?"
The thug pulled a knife, the woman freezing up. Her eyes went wide and her breathing went rapid. He ran the tip of the knife down her cheek, to her jugular, to her chest. He slowly cut her jacket open, smiling at what was revealed to him, "Just sit still, yeah? Don't make me struggle."
As his hand went low, a piercing sound filled the air, followed by the leading thug's pained scream.
A wire pulled the thug back into the darkness, a loud *SNAP* following immediately after. The thug's body fell out from the darkness, eyes wide and neck twisted at a horrible angle.
The remaining thugs, in their shock, released the woman, who still didn't feel safe enough to run. Three pairs of eyes watched the shadows…
"I envy you guys…" A slightly modulated voice spoke from the darkness, "you're content being walking talking human cockroaches… me?" A shape stepped out of the shadows, the woman staring in awe and the men in fear at the sight. It was a hooded figure; his shadowed face giving his audience the feeling that they encountered the grim reaper, "I like being the boot that crushes you…"
One of the thugs reached for a gun at his waist, pushing the hooded man into action. The vigilante was on the thug just as he pulled his revolver, kicking the man in the knee hard enough to brutally snap the leg, at the same time grabbing the man's wrist and forcing him to fire his gun at his partner; once in the leg, up to his gut, to his chest, to his throat, and finally to his head.
The vigilante broke the screaming thugs wrist as he ripped the now emptied revolver from his hand. The hooded vigilante pistol whipped the crippled man across the jaw, shattering it and sending him to the alleyway floor. Tossing the revolver, the hooded man walked up to the downed and wailing thug, like a predator stalking up to a wounded animal.
The dark hero stomped on the thugs chest, grinding his boot against him as he pulled his own weapon… a modified pistol. He put the gun just inches from the thugs busted up face, "A death row inmate should always get a final meal…" he clicked the hammer on his gun, "Enjoy."
*BANG!*
The vigilante reholstered his gun, before he turned to the still shaken up woman. She held herself to cover her modesty, makeup smearing her face from tears.
"Th-Thank you…" she stuttered out, hardly able to look at her savior. Through the bit of light that peered into the alleyway, she noticed a hint of red from under the vigilante's hood….
The dark hero didn't turn to her before he pulled out a grapple hook, "Better stick around. Tell the cops everything you saw." He fired his hook up to the roof of the building, and then he was gone.
-DMC-
The ruthless vigilante stood on a building, overlooking the city of Chicago. He wore a very civilian-esque costume; red hoodie underneath a black and white leather motorcycle jacket, the zippers open to reveal an armored bodysuit with a red bat-symbol painted across the chest. A similar symbol was painted onto the back of his leather jacket. He lowered the hood from his head, revealing a smooth, plain, motorcycle-style helmet.
Jason Todd; street kid, former Robin, dead man walking… and Batman's greatest failure. It had been six months since he'd left Gotham City, traveling the country to dish out his own brand of justice where he could.
The Batfamily didn't like him operating within' their city, and that went ditto for the other heroes, not that Jason cared. The way he operated made him an outlaw within' the superhero community, the law enforcement community, and the villain community. He loved trouble; it's what made him a juvie, a teenage vigilante, got him killed, and had him running around in a mask wasting criminals.
Some bleeding heart idealists would call him a murderer no better than the scum he went after, while other more cynical minds would say he got the job done, doing what no one else would do. He loved it, the effect he had on the hero community. They didn't know what to do with him. What were they gonna do? Catch him and lock him up?
Please do.
That being said, he wasn't a damn idiot. He knew good and well that he couldn't take on a lot of the more powerful superheroes. So, he learned to treat them the way a surfer treats a shark. Avoid when possible and bail somewhere else when blood was in the water.
*pop pop pop*
He heard the distant sound of gunshots, "This night is good to me." Jason said as he ran along the rooftop, skillfully parkouring over obstacles, leaping and flipping from one rooftop to another. One of the buildings he ran to was too high to jump, but with a pull of his grapple hook, he bounded the roof.
He jogged to the edge of the building, peering down to a most unusual and chaotic sight. Several people lay dead in the streets, shot down by a man in a red trenchcoat. The stranger ruthlessly shot down a man who was bleeding out on the sidewalk, before focusing in on a woman that crawled away helplessly.
Red Hood pulled his pistols, the handguns automatically shifting apart as he brought them together as a rifle. He pushed a button on the rifles side, a small but useful scope popping up at the top.
"Smile, scumbag." Red Hood said, aiming down the scope and lining the sights right at the center of the stranger's head.
He pulled the trigger.
A crack of the bullet firing ripped through the air, the projectile firing too fast for a normal human to dodge.
The white haired stranger simply leaned to the right to dodge the bullet that shattered the ground.
Looking up to the left and following the trail of the bullet, Dante saw no one up on the rooftop. He heard nothing, but sensed a presence quickly closing in on him from above. He threw up his forearm, the foot from a falling kick landing. His assailant quickly pulled a gun, aiming to shoot him straight in the face as he said, "Happy trails."
Dante whooped as he weaved the shot, the bullet sailing harmlessly passed his head as he pushed his arm forward, throwing back the hooded attacker. The Red Hood flipped from Dante's arm, expertly pulling shuriken and throwing them at Dante mid-flip.
Dante pulled an acrobatic backflip, dodging the shuriken and landing on his feet, "Not bad, kid." The Red Hood was on him the second he landed, mixing in martial arts and gunplay. He threw a roundhouse that Dante dodged, using his guns at close range. Dante used his forearms to deflect Red Hood's own, knocking the shots off mark.
Chuckling, Red Hood answered, "I'm flattered old man. But the Grim Reaper's calling."
Grunting, Dante spoke while batting away Jason's arms, "Old people think I'm a kid, and young people think I'm old? Dude, I'm only 34. I'm gonna look the same age for a while."
Red Hood swung his pistol at Dante in a wide arc, the butt of his gun passing through an after-image, "I'm fighting a ghost!" Red Hood exclaimed, "No wonder I'm losing!" He felt Dante's back press up against his own, the two gunslingers in unison turning to each other, aiming their guns at one another.
Dante grinned at Jason, "Nice outfit. Where do you do your superhero shopping, Harley Davidson?"
"Where do you do yours, Hot Topic?" Jason snarked back.
…
"The names Dante." the Devil-Hunter said as he lowered his pistols.
"Red Hood." Jason said, though he kept his guns leveled at Dante.
"I know what you think this is about." Dante drawled, "I'm just some asshole who guns down homeless folk, huh?"
"If the shoe fits, Cinderella." Red Hood said cockily.
"Obviously the broad here knew someone was coming, pulled the old wounded gazelle trick." Dante said, holding his hand out to the other corpses for Jason to see. Their faces were warped with inhuman-looking eyes and teeth. The woman's facade turned from one of fear to one of annoyance, "Jigs up, lady. Tell the truth shame the… well, you know the rest."
All color bled from the woman's face as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her teeth protruding gruesomely from her mouth,
"Oh my goodness gracious." Red Hood said, turning to Dante, "I've been bamboozled!"
"You think I'm alone?" The demon growled out, bones crackling as her body contorted uncannily, "We'll never stop coming!"
"You keep coming, I'll keep killing." Dante said, aiming his gun to the demon, "You've been bamboozled but it's redemption time, kid."
Both Dante and Red Hood put a bullet through the demon's forehead.
Morbid sounding whispers resounded from the nearby alleyways, ghoulish looking creatures that once pretended to be humans shifting out from behind the buildings, some even crawling along the walls. A manhole cover popped up as a demon crawled out from the sewer.
"Best get out of here." Dante said, "This ain't a human's scene."
"Hell no." Red Hood said, twirling his own guns, "I live for this shit."
The streets lit up with the rapid firing of handguns. Demons lunged at Dante, the hybrid stationary as he fired from all angles; over the shoulder, behind the back, and crossing his arms to get the sides.
Red Hood kept moving, keeping the demons from getting close as he fired off rounds from all sides. Surprisingly, his bullets were able to rip through the demons much like Dante's could. He caught sight of a demon charging straight at him, faster than the others. Red Hood ran to a wall, running up before flipping off it as the demon missed him. Mid-flip, Red Hood expertly threw a mine to the demon's back, "Moron." he scoffed as the mine detonated and killed the demon.
The gunslingers stood in a street littered with dead demon bodies.
"Impressive boomsticks." Dante said, "Not many guns that can tear up demons."
"Titanium composite hollow point bullets with a C4 kicker. Fastest, most explosive ammo in the world." Jason said, twirling his guns to rid smoke from the barrels before he holstered them.
"Custom?" Dante asked.
Jason said, "Made'em myself."
"Color me dazzled." Dante said. He eyed the red bat symbol on the vigilante's chest, "Bat family. You're a long way from your cave."
"What? Gotham?" Red Hood snorted, "Gotham sucks. The psychos that live there deserve each other… even the bad guys."
Dante chuckled, "You are a breath of fresh air, kid." The sounds of sirens urged the two to get out of sight. Jason grappled up to the nearest rooftop with Dante leaping up after him.
"You with the League?" Jason asked, pulling his red hoodie up over his helmet.
"In a manner of speaking…" Dante said, "I hang around… I kick ass with them… I eat their food…"
"What are you doing in Chicago?" Red Hood asked, "I guess you had a… demon killing job or something?"
"I'll give you one reason… and one reason only… pizza." Dante said, turning to the skyline of the city, "Deep dish, they call it. Don't have that where I come from. A little heavy on the breading but… different. Exotic." He made the 'ok' sign with his fingers, "Demons are just getting ballsier these days. What made you pick this town?"
"I'm here on a little business venture." Red Hood said, "You see a little birdie told me that Black Mask was gonna be making moves out here. Little does the bozo know, stepping foot outside of Gotham took him out of Batman's no-kill protection zone."
"Now you're gonna do what the Bat won't." Dante said.
"You're welcome to come along if you can keep up." Red Hood said, running along the rooftop as Dante shrugged and followed along.
The two bounded across rooftops, "Didn't seem like your first rodeo handling demons."
"Because it wasn't." Red Hood said, "Ever bump into the Untitled?"
"Not that I recall." Dante said.
"Well if you do, keep your hands off'em…" Red Hood said, "because I have first dibbs…"
-DMC-
The two overlooked a shipping port, watching tons of goons unload carts of contraband off a freight boat.
Red Hood eyed the thugs roaming around the port, carrying wooden boxes filled with some type of contraband on and off a ramp. He shook his head, "Look at these scumbags." A mobster in a white suit and a skull for a head stood among the boat, barking out orders at his staff. Their man of the evening. He stepped into the ship's operating room, several goons following after.
"That's a lot of illegal goods." Dante said, spotting at least a dozen men roaming the ship, all armed with assault rifles, "What are these? Weapons? He strapping up an army?"
"Most likely drugs." Red Hood said, "Knew he couldn't get them overseas and into Gotham so he's importing from Canada." He shook his head as he stood up, "Whelp, let's hope God has mercy… cause I won't."
"Morbid." Dante said.
"Heh, no lame speel about how if I kill these these drug peddling, murdering dirtbags, I'll be just like these drug peddling, murdering dirtbags. That if I kill the mob boss that once cut up a man and fed him to his sister, I have no moral high ground whatsoever…"
"I'm a demon hunter, not a people hunter, but I know good and well some folk deserve a few extra holes. I didn't go jumping through dimensions to tell everybody how to live their life, so do as you please, dude." Dante said.
"That's what I'm talking about." Red Hood said as he hopped off the building.
A goon with a laser-sighted sniper rifle overlooked the docks from a tower. He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, gasping at the sight of Dante.
The mooks on ground level were stunned at the sound of screams from above, someone falling off the tower and onto a stack of wooden cargo boxes, shattering them.
"What the hell?!" a black mask thug gasped out.
A thug peered over the balcony of the crane hanging over the boat. Before he could even react, a leg swung over the railing, gripping tightly around his neck as he was swiftly brought down, a hand slamming into the base of his neck with a loud crack.
"Waste of space." Red Hood grunted. Looking to the opposite tower, he spotted the last rifleman. He grappled over, moving quickly and silently like the gunslinging ninja he was. He wound up behind the man, aggressively grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him, ripping the rifle out of his hands. The criminal hardly had time to gasp 'oh sh-' before Jason snapped his neck, "Brainless monkey."
Two black mask thugs roamed the docks, assault rifles in hand as they searched for the intruder.
"What the hell's going on here?"
"Whatchu think, we're under attack!"
"By who?"
"Me."
A thug cried out as Red Hood slammed down onto his back full force with both feet. Taking advantage of the thug's surprise, Red Hood whipped out his guns and fired several rounds at the second thug, dropping him before he could even aim his rifle.
On the other side of the ship, three thugs desperately unloaded their clips into Dante, the devil hunter unflinching as bullets passed through him. He simply walked forward.
"This guy's a freak!" A thug cried out as his clip emptied. Dante grabbed the man's rifle,
"Super freak." He hit the thug in the face with his own rifle, breaking his nose and knocking him out. He threw the rifle at the head of another thug before phasing out and kicking the third, knocking him over a railing and into the lake water below.
Black Mask heard the sounds of gunshots echoing out over the ship, "Hey hey! What the hell's going on here?!" he said to a group of his subordinates.
"We got intruder's boss!"
"Y-yeah! We think it's the Red Hood!"
Black Masks eyes widened in shock, "The Red Ho- Ooooh, shit!" He pulled a revolver from his holster, "Follow me move ya asses!"
Red Hood laughed as he fired off shots at Black Mask thugs, "Dance scumbags! Dance!"
"We're getting picked apart out here!" A gangster cried from behind a stack of wooden cargo boxes. He flinched at the sight of his associate getting blown away by a barrage of bullets.
"He's just one guy!" A thug grunted as he reloaded, waiting on the bullets to cease fire, "We rush his ass when he runs out of ammo." A shadow appeared over them, the thugs whimpering.
Jason grinned eagerly behind his mask as the two thugs were thrown high in the air from over their cover. He popped shots at both of them, the gangsters dropping to the ground in heaps.
"Psh, amateurs." Red Hood scoffed as Dante hopped over the cargo boxes. "Looks like Sionis bailed." Jason said, holstering his guns.
"Nah." Dante said, "Him and his bunch of douchebags split for that building." he nodded to a tall warehouse by the port's entrance. "Guess he's setting up to get the jump on us."
"Good, let's hope he surprises me." Jason said as hopped up on the boats railing, "Time to show these losers crime doesn't pay."
-DMC-
"Who are these cowboys?!" A gangster shouted as he and another set up a turret on the far end of the room, others getting outfitted in bulletproof gear or scraping up as much cash as they could off the tables.
"One of them's the Red Hood. He used to operate out in Gotham."
"What the hell's he doing here?"
"Hell if I know." the mook turned to the sound of yelling, "But he's got the boss heated…"
"Which one of you did it?!" Black Mask yelled out to his remaining subordinates, "Which one of you big mouthed, loose lipped buffoons put the Red Hood up on game around here?!" he grabbed one of his mooks by the collar, raising his fist up to threaten the man,
The thug waved his hands and shook his head, "Nuh uh, it-it wasn't me boss!"
"Not me, either."
"I didn't do it!"
Black Mask grunted furiously before punching the lights out of his subordinate anyways.
The sounds of gunshots and yells reverberated from the other side of the door to the top floor room.
It went silent….
A body burst through the door in the room, followed by another one being kicked through right after.
"You made a big mistake coming here." Black Mask ground out, mouth barely moving from the unnatural mask covering his head. He spun the chamber on his revolver, "Big mistake."
"Whoahoo, Sionis, this all you got for me?" Red Hood laughed, feeling almost insulted at the single turrent and handful of odd men in the room to stop him, "Thought you'd be smarter than this." He looked to Dante, "That mask might be on a little too tight."
"Well let's loosen it up for him." Dante said, taking steps forward.
The turret wound up, a barrage of bullets firing from the barrels. Dante immediately pulled Ebony and Ivory, leveling his guns on top of each other as he rapid fired like they were automatic weapons. The bullets of his guns canceled out the bullets of the turret, the speed at which he fired being faster than the turret could keep up with. The trail of Dante's bullets carried all the way to the turret's nozzle. The turret exploded, sending the thug behind it back into the wall behind him, "And boom goes the dynamite."
Red Hood had already gotten to work laying a beatdown on the thugs in the room that rushed him. He hit a thug in the throat before roundhouse kicking him across the head. Black Mask aimed his revolver at the hooded vigilante, "Red freaking Hood, swallow this!"
Red Hood ducked and dodged the couple rounds fired, smoothly quick firing his own guns at Black Mask, "You can't shoot for crap!" the bullets hit the mobsters' vest, the impact sending him back into a table, but leaving him alive and dazed.
Dante ran along the walls as thugs shot at him, before leaping off and hanging in the air to rapid fire his guns. He had to admit, this took him back to his young mercenary days, where he'd deal with the local mafia and crime syndicates around his city.
"Oh hell no!" Red Hood called out as he eyed Dante's gravity defying display, "You're teaching me that one!"
Black Mask held his revolver again, this time at Dante, "I'll feed you to my dogs, both of ya's!"
Black Mask shot, Dante catching the bullet in his teeth. He spit the bullet out before he scoffed, "You talk a big game for a guy that looks like he gets pegged in his free time." Dante looked to Red Hood, throwing a back elbow into the face of a Black Mask goon that tried to charge him from behind, "I wonder where he does his villain shopping?" Dante asked.
"The BDSM store?" Jason answered, jumping up and roundhouse kicking three thugs simultaneously.
"It's one hell of a gimp mask, ain't it?" Dante shot the last thug's knees out, dropping him to the floor.
"Well if getting his ass whipped is his thing he must be having the time of his life." Jason cracked, pulling out his grapple hook. He fired it into Black Masks chest, zip-kicking himself into the mob don's chest to send him back to the floor near the building window.
Dante grinned, 'I like this kid.'
Now that the immediate threat of the thugs was handled, Jason's demeanor changed, becoming much more predatory. His breathing grew deeper as his anger rose… "Black Mask," he stomped over to the downed and helpless mobster, "you shoulda stopped when you were ahead!" he kicked the gun out of Roman's hand before grabbing him by the throat and forcing him up to the window, cracking the glass.
Black Mask looked between the two vigilantes. Knowing Red Hood, there was no bargaining, but this new stranger, there may have been a chance, "H-Hey, hey you! You just gonna stand there and watch this?!"
"I could sit down." Dante said, "There's a few chairs around here."
Red Hood forced him up further against the window, cracking the glass even more, making Roman Sionis sweat underneath that mask, "Come on, I'll give you drugs… uh, guns… weapons, money?!"
"You know I'm having a really hard time hearing you right now." Dante said, "That's why you shouldn't fire guns at such close range."
The window was now cracked up to the pane, little more force being enough to send Black Mask falling 8 floors below. As a last hail mary, Sionis turned to Hood, "Come on Hood… what do you really want? I'll give you whatever, go wherever, just tell me what-"
"You know what I want, Black Mask…" Jason said, voice quiet, and much more intimidating than if he were yelling, "The only thing I've wanted since the day we first met… you dead."
Red Hood spartan-kicked the mobster through the window, Black Mask screaming as he fell to his death. A loud crash and the constant honking of a car alarm followed.
Dante walked up to the window, peering out of it. He whistled, "Clean up on aisle 4, 5 and 6…" he turned to the lethal vigilante, "Feeling better now, kid?" Dante asked.
"Not until I've ridden the world of every last maggot feeding on its rotten carcass." Jason said, disturbingly casual.
"Ayayay, you kids these days are getting angrier and angstier… you should meet my nephew." Dante said.
"But first…" Jason snapped his fingers, "I gotta meet a bottle of beer. Want one?"
"My mouth's drier than the devil's scalp." Dante said.
Jason punched him in the chest, "Then let's get outta here."
-DMC-
The gunslingers walked through a back alley, coming up on a small staircase that led to a neglected building's underbelly. A ragged looking poster covered a brick that Red Hood pulled from the wall, revealing a dial pad. Dante could tell this vigilante went through many pains to ensure his base remained a secret. He had to assume, correctly, that he had many bases like this around the country, maybe beyond.
What Red Hood didn't tell Dante, was that his dial pad didn't just rely on one code, but a variety of codes that would rotate every hour throughout the day. That meant 24 different codes of varying sequences, for every city that had a base of operations. In case the basic codes were compromised, then there was to be a verification code to be entered after entering the correct code.
If the incorrect passcode was entered, verification or otherwise, the room was triggered to burn and ash everything…
Jason entered the correct code, a few small 'beeps' coming from the device. Small clicks came from the doors automatic locking mechanism, before it opened automatically.
Dante followed Red Hood into the safehouse, fluorescent lights illuminating it. He looked around it. Guns and other gadgets lined the walls; assault rifles, sniper rifles, assault shotguns, desert eagles, grenades both of the shrapnel and flash variety, swords, and daggers. A partially eaten cheeseburger sat by a greasy bag on a cluttered desk. A target practice poster with a ghastly looking clown's picture taped to the face hung on the wall… a shuriken nailed perfectly at every one of the clowns vital point. A map of the city of Chicago also hung on the wall, parts of the city circled with different colored markers. A name was written over the different areas, seeming to indicate a different gangsters territory.
An old worn out couch was on the floor, other variable red helmets hung on racks above it. "Welcome to mi casa." Jason said, walking up to a mini fridge against the wall. He opened the fridge, taking out some beer bottles. He tossed one to Dante.
Jason held his own bottle, pressing a button on the side of his helmet. The helmet shifted slightly, as if loosening itself from around Jason's head. With one hand, he removed his helmet, revealing to Dante most of what he expected…
A young man, no older than 19 or 20, with short black hair and blue eyes. Interestingly, the young man had a few locks of white hair at the front of his head. Disturbingly, Dante noticed a scar in the shape of a 'J' marring his left cheek. Jason flopped down on the couch, propping his foot on the coffee table in front of it. He popped the top to his bottle against the table next to the couch.
"Not a bad crib." Dante said, sitting down on the couch next to Jason before popping the top of his bottle with his thumb, "You seem to be doing well for yourself."
The two tapped their bottles together as a toast.
"Robbing drug dealers is a good side hustle." Jason said, taking a swig of his beer.
Dante propped his own foot on the coffee table, though he noticed something sticking out on the unswept floor from under it… something wooden…
Curious, he grabbed it, pulling up a sawed off shotgun. It was single-barrel, and lever action. It was small and easily storable on his person. He could tell by the weight there were no shells in it. With one hand he flip cocked it.
Jason smirked, "Like that one? Keep it. Shotty's aren't really my thing."
Dante looked at him, "The catch?"
Shrugging, Jason took another swig of beer, "In return you could teach me how to sling guns like you."
"Heh," Dante grinned, putting the shotgun on his lap and leaning back into the couch, "I can deal."
-DMC-
Batman sat within' the Batcave, screen showing several different windows of activity. He'd received the notice from Gordon that Two-Face was apprehended by Batgirl two nights ago, much to his displeasure. Of course he wasn't displeased that Two-Face was stopped, but that Barbara had put herself at risk to do it, even winding up in a confrontation with Solomon Grundy.
Curse that fire of hers. The second she gets her legs back, she jumps right back into the trenches. Her not coming to him meant she knew what his stance would be on the matter. Though, as much as he wanted to wring her throat, he couldn't let the cause be for her determination. Despite being shot in the back and crippled, she wasted no time in finding a way to help him and the rest of the Batfamily through invaluable technology and hacking support.
That determination and strength of will is what earned her the right to her cape and cowl in the first place.
But, that determination and strength of will had left most of his subordinates with many scars; both mental and physical over the years.
None more so than his second Robin. While Dick, Tim, Damian, Barbara, and Gordon had managed to heal from the traumas inflicted on them over the years, Jasonhadn't.
And it was all his fault.
When the chips were down and it came time to be a hero to his ward, his child, he'd failed him. Now, because of circumstances beyond his control, his son was back and roaming the world as the dark antithesis to his brand of justice.
Thank God Barbara had come out of her latest encounter unscathed… with help from Dante.
There was a time where he'd be completely against others interfering in the affairs of Gotham. But after years spent with his own allies in the Batfamily, and then expanding his circle of trust to the Justice League, he'd become, somewhat, more lax in his possessiveness over the city.
In the time Dante had been in the city, he'd neutralized Poison Ivy, Cobblepot, Killer Croc, Two Face, and Solomon Grundy as threats.
While his dealings with these rogues was, with the exception of Grundy, non-lethal, Dante still had a method of sorting out issues that rubbed the Dark Knight the wrong way. The devil hunter was apathetic to the amount of destruction he could cause in his… theatrics. While he wasn't particularly kill-happy in regards to human beings, he'd still shown a willingness to play judge, jury, and executioner for those that fell out of his own moral boundaries.
That, he couldn't abide by.
One of the windows on the Batcomputer expanded to fill the screen. It was a link to the tracking device implanted in Dante's watchtower communicator. A visual of the Earth appeared, before zooming into the North America region, and then zooming in further to the state of Illinois. A red dot appeared on the city of Chicago.
With a few rapid keystrokes, several news articles pulled up from the cities numerous news stations. Numerous reports of a shootout leaving several people dead in the streets pulled up… though, not particularly newsworthy given that city's status. What he did notice were certain details regarding the deceased… they appeared to be mutated…
'Likely Dante's work…' Batman reasoned. He pulled up a live feed of the Chicago news broadcast, a breaking news report being shown.
A red haired news woman spoke in front of what appeared to be a shipping yard, "For those just now joining us, we have reports that the notorious Mob Boss from Gotham City, Roman Sionis, has been pronounced dead just moments ago. Sources say that this may be the result of the mass gang warfare that's-."
Footsteps approached Batman from behind, the vigilante already knowing who it was.
"It would appear that Black Mask bit off more than he could chew, spreading his operations beyond Gotham, master Bruce." Alfred said, the butler setting down a cup of coffee next to the dark knight, "What a coincidence that one of your colleagues was in the city at the time."
"I don't believe in coincidences, Alfred." Batman would shed no tears for Black Mask, but he'd be nipping this problem in the bud….
-DMC-
(Two hours and four beers later…)
"I mean seriously dude, I get my head beat in, blown up and killed, then I'm in the afterlife having to wait in a line miles long to get judged, then right when it's my turn I get brought back to this hell on Earth through a bath that feels like getting baptized in acid, and after all that I find out daddy bats went and replaced me?" Jason said, knocking back another swig of his beer, "Of course I'm gonna go a little crazy."
"He off the clown?" Dante asked, one arm folded behind his head with his eyes shut.
Jason snorted angrily, "Hell no. Even when me, his own son gets knocked off Batman couldn't do what any other father would do and avenge me?" He shook his head, "Lemme tell you something, if that was Nightwing that got tortured to death Bats would be pulling off the clown's fingers one by one."
"Parental favoritism." Dante shrugged, leaning back into the couch to get more comfortable, "Been there, felt that, on both ends."
"You get it." Jason said, "I mean don't get me wrong. The other Robins, we're sons of the Bat. They're my brothers. Yeah, I made some mistakes. I mighta tried whackin them a few times, they mighta tried beating me into a vegetable, but you try going through that kinda hell and try to keep things… normal."
Dante shrugged, "Hey, sometimes brothers try to kill each other. No need to mope about it."
Jason brooded, "Yeah." he huffed. He sat in silence for a minute, "I dunno man. I can't help but just… beg sometimes for things to be different. Maybe I'd've been better off if he never found me on that street corner, jacking the wheels off his car. If he'd never put me in that Robin suit… if Ra's Al Ghul never brought-"
The sound of snoring interrupted Jason, the vigilante turning to see Dante having dozed off on the couch, bottle in hand. The former Robin couldn't help but laugh, "Good talk Don."
-DMC-
A/N: Didn't keep you guys waiting too long.
Had a really fun time writing this chapter. Jason, as far as his design goes, is mostlypulled from his Arkham Knight incarnation, but his background is mostly that as told in 'Under the Red Hood'. Dante agreeing to show Jason some tricks is a bit throwaway, and is really just meant to be a mythology gag, seeing as how Red Hood in Injustice 2 can pull off a few Dante-esque moves.
Another episodic entry, as I said this arc would be. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Lemme know your honest thoughts!
