Chapter Text
Jason scowled, he hated wearing fucking suits like this. It was a nice one. The money he got was money he had from letting off a few crooks who decided to work for Sionis. He liked to pay his workers good. And their firing was more often than not more literal than a two weeks notice.
It was midnight.
Drake was no where to be found.
Jason was getting very close to walking away and tracking down the Uther shithead.
“You clean up nicely,” A voice said from behind him making him jump and pull out a knife
Timothy Drake stood, hands in pockets, hair slicked back, smirking as he looked at the knife.
“You’re smart, I said no guns but never no other weapons,” Tim said, “That will do you good in the Gala.”
Tim turned on his heel and began walking away towards an alley.
Jason’s eye twitched. Where the fuck was he going?
Tim paused, looking over his shoulder expectantly, “Do you plan on attending the Gala in the middle of the street? Or are you going to follow me?”
Jason grit his teeth, sheathing and hiding his knife, and caught up to the brat. Tim led him into the alley that had a dead end with a dumpster at the end. Jason half wondered if this was all a ploy for Tim to kill him.
Tim walked up to the dumpster, stopping and turning around.
“There are a few things you need to know,” Tim said hesitantly
Jason narrowed his eyes suspicously, Drake looked more like Tim than he Jason had ever seen. Like a teenager playing dress up. Like a kid with the weight of the world on his back.
Was this him...trusting him or some shit?
“The Waynes aren’t allowed to the Gala for a reason,” Tim said, “And the Malones are banned.”
Jason furrowed his eyebrows, “Why the hell are you invited then?”
Tim straightened his back, chin lifted and face turning cold. Jason was then reminded of the one and only times he ever met Janet Drake.
‘So Wayne... took... you in?” She said coldly, “Interesting.”
He smirked, “ Do I look like a Wayne to you, Todd?”
It was purposeful, the use of his last name. A reminder that Timothy wasn’t a Wayne, a reminder that neither was he.
“No,” Jason said, “No you don’t.”
Tim swallowed visibly, “This is the one time a year, one place where it’s neutral grounds.”
Jason raised an eyebrow, “The rouges?”
Tim shook his head, “Not all of them. None of the ones you would think. No one too violent.”
No Joker.
Jason exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“You’re going to see bad people here though,” Tim says simply, “Ones the Red Hood would want dead.”
Jason got what he meant. Those who hurt kids. Those who deserved to feel the cold metal of his guns to their foreheads before they died.
“You can’t pick a fight tonight Jason,” He demands
The pit flares inside him.
“It’s neutral grounds. No fights.”
Jason’s eye twitched.
“Jason.”
Jason stared at Tim, trying to reign in the pit.
Tim stared back, just as angry and defiant.
“Fine.”
Tim nodded, “Good.”
Tim turned around, back to the dumpster, and kicked it harshly.
The dumpster... the dumpster seemed to glitch. Then it was just gone. And in it’s place stood a door, with two bouncers in suits staring unbothered at them, guns clear as day on them.
“Name,” The one on the left said with a thick alley accent
Tim raised an eyebrow, “Really Kyle?”
The bouncer laughed, “Procedure kid. Name?”
Jason was horribly confused as to what the fuck was going on right now.
“Drake,” Tim said before motioning to Jason, “Todd. He’s with me.”
Kyle, Jason assumed, nodded and opened the fancy door. Tim walked through, and Jason followed behind him. It was an elevator. Tim clicked the only button there was. There was no music. Just the sound of the ratty old elevator moving.
God he wished he had his guns right about now. Or his swords from the League. Hell he would take a batarang even.
Jason blinked.
It was.
It was a fucking party.
A gala.
Jason was an idiot. He thought it was a code. A meetup cover. Not an entire actual ass full blown bigger than Wayne party, gala.
They were...
Underground.
In a cave.
Lit by chandeliers as big as entire houses. People dressed in glitz and gold. Hands and necks dripping with jewels.
Tim grinned at him, “Welcome to Gothams Gala.”