AN: Soooo. Hi! I'm gonna be honest here, I'm curious to see what everyone has to say about my fic. This is something I had posted on AO3, and decided to cross post over here. Figured I'd give it a shot. I'm always curious what people have to say, so this should be fun. As a word of warning, I'm always trying to keep characters... as 'in character' as I can while keeping things enjoyable. And finally...due to me not having kept up with DC Canon for the last few years, I'm basically gonna go on vague enough timeline where key moments occurred, but keep it up to the reader's interpretation on how. Enjoy!
Ya know, Gotham was always a bit of a shithole, I'm not gonna lie. Then Batman arrived. Yeah, he really made a difference. I'm serious, he did. Granted there were a few issues here and there, but at the end, Gotham was by some massive miracle still standing through everything that had happened. Then he started getting sidekicks. All in all, as much as I hate to admit it, Gotham's home for a lot of people, myself included. Oh, my apologies. I should introduce myself. The name's Kessler. Michael Kessler. Gotham City resident and fate's punching bag. Well not literally, but in some cases, it really feels like it... I guess that's where this story starts off. With me. Or at least, with one night on my end.
Michael was walking back home, having spent a bit of his hard earned cash to get himself at least a small buzz. Granted he was underage, but the main excuse for that is 'This is Gotham.' He never would have used that excuse, at any other time, but he needed at least one drink. Work wasn't getting any easier, and if he wasn't careful, he was gonna get caught up in the firings that were going on. It wasn't a high paying job by any means, but it was his. Besides, he hadn't even had that much to drink. Granted he may have stumbled slightly into his apartment building, gaining the attention of Alex, the building's landlord.
"Mike? What the hell're you doing out this late?" He asked, crossing his arms as he studied the younger man. Michael couldn't help but let out a snort, waving off Alex quickly as he made his way to the counter.
"Ah just got my paycheck today. Figured I'd celebrate a bit. Don't worry, I avoided the worst parts of town. Even got you a nice gift. Here's an advance on rent. Figured I'd do this now instead of next week." Michael was quick to shoot back, dropping five twenty dollars bills on the counter. "I'll get you the rest in time, don't worry. For now? I'm gonna go upstairs and get a bite to eat. Haven't had anything all night." The young man continued, giving Alex a shrug as he began to make his way to the elevator. The landlord grumbled a bit, but took the bills anyway, and Michael continued on, letting out a short hum as he pressed a button on the elevator. Waiting for it to get to the right floor, he could practically taste the food that was in his fridge. What came to mind was just what was he going to eat?
There was that pizza that he had gotten two days ago. Then again, there was also the amazing take out he had the day before. His feet on autopilot, Michael was already walking towards his apartment, unlocking the door and heading on inside. Taking a moment to lock his door behind him, Michael had already made up his mind, bringing out the takeout. It was some Chinese place, decent food for a cheap price.
Taking a minute to heat it up, Michael was honestly surprised by the fact that he hadn't actually run into anything in his walk back home. Nights like this were perfect for bad luck, and more often than not people like him were on the receiving end of it. The beeping of a microwave took him out of his thoughts, and Michael was already grinning at the idea of getting some food. Taking it out and leaving it on the small, wooden heap that Michael called a table, he realized that he didn't exactly have anything to wash it down. Heading over to his fridge, Michael was quick to fish out a Cola, only to let out a curse at what happened next.
'CRASH'
Michael wasn't ashamed to admit that he let out a yelp, or that he jumped back in shock. Or that he dropped the bottle of Cola that was thankfully closed. Turning towards the sudden noise, Michael couldn't help but groan at the sight he witnessed. His previously good window, and somewhat crappy table that had his food were now gone. The window and table were shattered just like Michael's hopes and dreams, the oh so tasty food that Michael was about to enjoy was now splattered on the ground. What had caused all this new chaos? The currently prone body of a man, who was letting out a short groan. Michael could clearly see a lot of things that stood out about the man in question.
The first, and most obvious thing about him was the red helmet that he wore. That matched up with the black body armor, and the blood red bat logo that was on his chest. He had a large amount of weapons on him, and one more obvious thing was that he was big. As in built like a truck, with the height to match. Michael knew exactly who this was.
Red Hood. Former crime lord, now a very scary vigilante in Gotham City. Usually worked alongside the infamous Bat-Family, and was probably as skilled as all of them to match. Michael knew that it was probably a good idea to choose his words wisely, but at the moment? He honestly didn't care. Not when the one good plate of food that he had was smeared all over the floor and some guy's back. He just let out a tired sigh, shoulders visibly drooping as he stared at Red Hood.
"Dude, did you have to crash in here? You just messed up my dinner." Michael said, letting out a low groan as he rubbed his eyes. Red Hood didn't say anything for a moment, letting out a sigh of his own.
"So you're telling me that right now I'm laying in food? Huh. Not the worst thing I've landed in, but still. I should probably get out of this. For the moment, I'm gonna just lay here and figure out just what my life's become. Because the fact that I've gotten used to this sort of thing is really saying something about my mental health." Red Hood said, his head hitting the floor with a quiet 'thunk'. He was there for a moment, before quickly sniffing around. "Wait , is this Royal Palace Orange Chicken?" Red Hood asked, sitting up and glancing down behind him. Michael just let out another sigh, his frustration clear as day as he just sat down, his chair the only real thing left from the now ruined table set.
"Well, it was. Now it's just ruined. Thanks, once again for that. No offense, but you think you could have landed somewhere else? That was literally the last thing I had in my fridge. Well besides some really cheap pizza, but that's probably gone bad, knowing my luck here." He admitted, shaking his head. Already, he was looking towards the cabinet where Michael knew for a fact was some booze. Maybe tonight would end up with him drunk. Suddenly Red Hood's head shot up, looking at the nearly defeated look on Michael's face.
"Ahhhh shit not again. This was your last dinner I'm guessing. Man, I've been there before. Trust me, it sucks. Look, uh, since I kinda ruined your night….here give me a sec." Red Hood was talking still, finally standing up, doing his best to wipe himself down. Michael could already hear the muttered cursing, as well as something along the lines of 'I swear Nightwing never has to deal with this'. Once Red Hood had...relatively cleaned up his now messy jacket, he reached into a pocket. Suddenly Michael found a large wad of cash shoved into his hand. He couldn't help it, glancing up at Red Hood, who Michael was very sure just gave him what had to be a large amount of money, in shock.
"Wait wait wait, you're just… giving this to me? Seriously?!" Michael couldn't help but ask, shocked that Red Hood (and boy that was still something he was trying to get used to saying mentally) had just forked over a lot of money.
"You won't believe how many times this has happened before. That and a good friend kept on giving me crap for not doing something to fix a problem." Red Hood admitted, giving a shrug as he looked at the shattered window, wincing at the sight. He awkwardly moved his arm around, trying to nudge the broken glass so that it wasn't going into the room. It was an attempt at the very least, and Michael could see him moving down, scooping up what pieces he could and throwing them out. He even went as far as to toss out the broken remains of the table, Michael wincing upon hearing the wood crash into the alleyway below.
"I'm guessing that all of this is supposed to cover the cost for my table? And just about everything else that you shattered?" Michael blandly asked, glancing down to actually confirm, yes there were actual hundred dollar bills in the bundle of cash Red Hood had thrown him. "What am I gonna say to my landlord?" He continued, glancing up to see that Red Hood was already halfway out the window. Michael could only stare back at the helmet facing him, seeing another visible wince coming from the vigilante in question.
"Uh…. just say that…. actually, you're on your own there. Sorry man, I've gotta get going either way. Just go out and buy yourself a nice meal..or order one. There's still a lot of places open right now." Red Hood shot back, once more trying to crawl out of Michael's window.
"Not all of us are trained vigilantes ya know! Can't just come and go as we….and he's already gone. Great." Michael couldn't help the groan that came from him as he opened his fridge. Pizza would have to do. Opening the box, Michael's disappointment only skyrocketed to discover that it was actually empty. Apparently, he had already eaten it, and simply forgot to throw the box out. Michael almost decided that enough was enough and was halfway to his bed when his stomach growled in protest. He reluctantly picked up his phone, already dialing the number for a nearby take out place.
Jason was not ashamed to admit that his patrol was only going to be temporary. He wasn't needed for the moment, considering the rest of the family was already out and about in Gotham. So, when his not so routine adventure into the city ended with him ruining some poor kid's meal, that stung. He had heard what the guy had muttered and let out a groan of his own. He had known what it was like to go hungry after all, and that was probably the other reason why he left so much money. It wasn't like he needed it.
At the end of it all, with some debating on his end, he finally decided to do something useful. Besides beating up the various criminals of Gotham's underworld that is. Which meant that he'd need some help here. Thankfully there was someone he could rely on in a moment's notice.
"Hey Oracle, you got a sec? Need you to run something by me. Just a…" Jason paused for a moment, realizing that in his haste to leave, he had never gotten the kid's name. But he could improvise. That was always a strong suit of his after all. "A name that I'm trying to find. If you can keep this between us, I'd appreciate it. Ran into this kid. Well ran into is a nice way of putting it. I made a mistake while jumping, broke one of his windows...and his table in the process, along with his dinner." He was quick to admit, already knowing full well the lecture he was going to get. But at the same time, Jason just kept thinking back to that hopeless look, and the orphan in him couldn't help but feel bad. Ah the joys of a conscience. Alfred did good work there.
AN: Sooooo yeah. That was a thing. You've now met Michael, a very tired and annoyed guy who's got a bad hand. It happens, and it'll hopefully do better from here on out. Rest assured, more people are gonna show up here, so we'll see how it goes. I honestly just wanna hear thoughts, feel free to leave them in the comments! I'm curious as to what you readers have to say. I'll probably update this fic on a weekly basis...at least until this one catches up with the one on AO3. For now we'll see how it goes. Until next time! Thanks again for reading!