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“Rebreathers!”
Stephanie shoves one over her face before Tim even finishes the warning. Green billows down the alleyway onto the street, enveloping the block in a dense, heavy cloud. She squeezes her eyes shut against the burn, a few tears trickling out anyway. Her hands fumble before she locates a spare domino and presses it on, the adhesive taking a couple tries before it catches through the sweat. Hmm, maybe she should go back to the full-face mask or the cowl. She definitely needs an upgrade on the half-mask, the rebreather layered over it is uncomfortable.
“Roll call,” Oracle orders over the network. Names and statuses are called out then – “Hood, report.”
Silence.
Oracle audibly grits her teeth. “Red Hood¸ report.” Still no response. She sighs. “Spoiler, you’re closest. Mind taking a look?”
Actually, she doesn’t mind at all. She likes Jason. He’s like the growly, stand-offish older brother she never knew she wanted. And he’s the only reason she’s passing her Intro to Short Story course right now.
Steph pulls her hood more securely around her head and makes her way through the cloud of fear gas that swirls ominously. It would be the perfect set up for a horror movie, and she wonders if Crane did that on purpose to heighten the drug’s effects. As she walks down the alleyway under Oracle’s careful direction, she listens with half an ear to Tim muttering something about it being a new strain and how he’s unsure if their current antidote will be enough to counter it. Great.
The alleyway is quiet and, to be completely cliché, it’s too quiet. There were Scarecrow goons down this very alley at the start, kicking up some sort of racket at the discovery of something, and they’re the ones who threw the canister, but now she hears absolutely nothing. If Jason had been down here, he’s likely not anymore. He probably went after the goons when they ran, his helmet more than capable of filtering the gas out and he didn’t have to pause to protect himself like the rest of them.
Still, she steps over debris on high alert. “No sign of him,” she murmurs into the comm. He would’ve responded to the roll call. “Are you sure he’s still around?”
“His tracker says so,” Oracle says, her voice softening to sound more like Barbara. “And it’s the one he let me put in his current helmet. No way he’s ditching that. Hood, can you hear us?”
Dread pools in her belly as Jason still doesn’t respond. Worst-case scenarios begin clamoring for attention – she shoves them aside. No. This is Red Hood. Jason Todd. No two-bit thugs with a locked-up boss is going to get one over him. Jason would be so pissed at himself if that happened. Steph pauses where she stands in the middle between both openings of the alley. She tries to calm her racing heart so she can listen for movement.
Abruptly, there’s a small, almost unnoticeable, sound over the comm. “H-Hello?”
That…does not sound like Jason. That sounds like a kid. A kid who’s been crying and is currently terrified out of their mind. Steph spins blindly in a circle, cape whooshing behind her. Still no Red Hood.
“Hood?” Tim asks incredulously. Which is a fair question – Dick had been de-aged for twenty-four hours not even a month ago. But this is Scarecrow. Unless he has some new scheme he wants to try, this isn’t exactly his wheelhouse.
“My n-name’s Colleen,” the kid sniffles. “I don’t – I don’t know what’s going on. Hood – Hood gave me his helmet and, and he’s not moving.”
Oh no. “Colleen, sweetie, do you know where you are?” Steph keeps her voice soft and soothing. Tim swears something family-friendly over the comm.
Another sniffle. “Behind a dumpster.” Immediately, Steph starts moving towards the only dumpster she remembers seeing.
“Can you tell if Red Hood is breathing, Colleen?” Tim asks, gentle in that awkward way he gets. He’s never been the best with kids.
A pause and the rustle of fabric. “Um. I think – I think so? His chest is moving. Is he, is he going to be okay?” It sounds like she’s crying again, tiny, hitching sobs crackling over the line.
“Of course, he is,” Steph says confidently even as worry churns in her stomach. “I’m coming up, Colleen. Don’t be scared.”
The dumpster is pulled partway from the brick wall, angled just right that someone of Jason’s size could wedge themselves behind it. She crouches low to make herself seem unthreatening and creeps closer. The gas is starting to thin out, dissipating slowly. And through that and the shadows, she finds Jason on the ground, curled tightly around a little girl around seven or eight based on her size. His helmet is comically large on her head, but the seal around the neck seem to be doing its job because the face turns towards Steph and the girl doesn’t cower away.
She knows she’s not the most intimidating Bat – the blonde hair and the purple make people underestimate her (which is kinda the point besides just being her favorite color) – but she knows she can be scary. This girl isn’t scared of her. She smiles through the combination of mask and rebreather even though the girl can’t see it.
“Hey there, Colleen,” she says.
“Spoiler,” the girl replies, sagging in relief. The modulator makes her voice hilariously mechanical, and Steph has to stifle a completely inappropriate laugh. “Please. I don’t know what’s going on. He won’t wake up.”
Steph shuffles closer. “It’s okay. Everyone’s gonna be fine. Let’s get you outta there so I can take a look at him, yeah?”
The girl squirms for a second before giving up. “He’s holding on too tightly.”
She frowns and leans in. Wow. Okay. What she thought was Jason just curled around the girl is actually him curled around and encasing her in such a tight grip she’s surprised Colleen can still breathe. His shoulders are quivering, his breaths ragged and too fast. It’s only then she realizes –
He doesn’t have a rebreather on.
And his helmet is on a little girl.
Oh shit.
“Red Robin, get here immediately,” she hisses into the comm. Colleen startles at her tone and she starts to struggle in Jason’s grip, her movements suddenly fearful. “No, no. Colleen. You’re okay. Here, I’m gonna help you out, yeah? Wrap your arms around my neck, yep, and – oof, there we go.”
She settles Colleen on her hip, quickly stepping away from Jason’s unconscious body. Colleen’s helmeted head knocks against her temple as the girl buries the face of it in the crook of Steph’s neck, her breaths hitching in not quite sobs. Steph rubs a comforting hand on her back, humming quietly.
Jason stirs, arms curling towards his chest, before he jerks up abruptly. She presses herself to the brick wall behind her, tensing, getting ready to run. Colleen’s cries cut off and she holds herself still. He moves like he’s looking for something and, when he doesn’t find it, he scrambles to his feet. He stumbles, hand to his temple. Steph has to resist the urge to check on him – especially when he shakes his head like a dog with water in its ears and his attention snaps towards her.
“Don’t touch her,” he growls out. It reverberates down her spine and she shivers, clutching Colleen to her side. He steps closer, slow and predatorily. Oh no. “Put her down! I won’t let you take her.”
Steph ducks under the lightning-fast punch, awkwardly dancing away even as Jason falls against the wall. She winces at the impact his knuckles make when it meets brick and faintly hopes the reinforcements in his gloves protects from the worst of it. She doesn’t have a chance to think more about it because he’s throwing himself at her, both hands extended, a snarl twisting his features into something almost unrecognizable.
She wasn’t around for the dark days of Red Hood vs Batman; she’s never seen Jason like this and mean it.
All she can do is dodge, occasionally kicking out to distract him. With Colleen in her arms, she’s at a disadvantage, especially since Jason has ten times the fighting skill she has. Luckily, that fear gas is making him sloppy – the nausea and disorientation that comes with borderline overdose usually knocks people unconscious and it’s probably because of his stupid regeneration that he’s even on his feet. There’s so much fear gas in his system, she’s surprised he’s coherent enough to shout at her.
She’s panting by the time she makes it to the mouth of the alleyway. “Red, where the hell are you?” she gasps out.
“Almost there. Hold on.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing!” she yells, voice pitched high. Jason comes out of the shadows like a goddamn wraith, launching his entire body at her. She drops to the ground, curled around Colleen, and dashes away as he scrambles to regain his foot. “Hood! C’mon, it’s me! Your favorite Bat. Stop!”
He whirls around and she takes a step back even though he doesn’t advance. He’s trembling minutely, from his hands all the way to his feet. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. His chest moves rapidly, breathing unsteadily. He raises both fists even as they shake.
“I don’t know who you think you are,” he rasps out. “But if you don’t let that girl go, right now, you’re going to regret ever meeting me.”
What is he seeing? she thinks as she dodges again. The fight against the goons is starting to catch up to her and a kick clips her side, sending her staggering. He misjudges where she’s going to be and overextends his punch, leaving himself open to let her jab into a soft part under his arm. Her knuckles scrap metal but he swears and backs off, rolling his shoulder.
“You’re gonna be okay,” he calls and Steph freezes. Even with the domino she can tell he’s not looking at her but at Colleen. “You hear me? Everything’s gonna be alright. You’re really brave, you know that? So fucking brave.”
Despite herself, Colleen giggles at the expletive. Jason cracks a smile, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. But then his gaze snaps back to Steph, and he gets dangerous again. Her mind whirls, thoughts barely too quick to catch.
She angles herself near a doorway so when Jason attacks and when she dodges, he crashes right through the door, his bulk and momentum and heavy armor doing a great job of impersonating a battering ram. He swears loudly and it takes him a long moment to pick himself back up.
In that long moment she aims for a fire escape, climbing up it the best she can with one arm and a child clinging to her. She hears Jason start to follow and doesn’t look back.
The facts are these: Jason didn’t become aggressive until he realized Steph had Colleen; fear gas causes hallucinations; he’s definitely not seeing Stephanie as the one holding onto the lost child who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I can see you, Spoiler, hold on.”
She takes a deep breath as she turns towards Jason already vaulting over the edge. She steps back, leading Jason into the middle of the roof. He follows, a curl to his walk that reminds Steph of an advancing wolf.
There is no fear gas up here. She hooks her fingers along the edge of the helmet, finds the release, and tugs it off Colleen’s head. Her hair is in disarray, her face blotchy. Tears shine on her cheeks in the city’s lights. She looks betrayed, staring at Steph. Like she couldn’t believe she stopped running, stopped fighting.
The helmet is loud when she tosses it between her and Jason. He recoils, moving faster than is warranted…away from it like it’s some sort of bomb – and she realizes then he’s not even seeing his own helmet. She slowly sets Colleen down, grabs her wrists and unhooks her from around her neck when the girl refuses to let go. Jason’s shaking his head rapidly again, staggering with the force of it.
“Stay behind me, okay?” she whispers. Colleen nods silently, stepping behind Steph and clinging to her cape. Steph gently takes it from her with a flash of regret. Something tells her she’s going to need all the freedom of movement she can get.
He doesn’t react to the girl no longer being in her arms. His expression shifts – unease curls in Stephanie’s gut. Something in the air has changed, and she doesn’t know what.
“Hood,” she says to Jason, her voice too loud in the silence. He readies his stance, fists pulled up. There’s something off about it and it takes her a long moment to realize that – that he looks like a kid. A kid who’s squaring up, who knows how to take a hit only because that’s all he’s ever done, and is desperate to get a punch in. Her heart cracks just a little because she recognizes that look from her own mirror.
Stephanie suddenly remembers that Jason is only a handful of years older than her.
She steps closer, palms out. “Hood,” she repeats, and she wishes she could say his name, all too aware of the civilian at her back even if she’s just a kid.
Jason staggers back from her, fists going wide. Wide – no. He throws his arms up protectively, his bulky form hunching like he’s cowering from her. She freezes, eyes wide and unsure, as Jason trips over his own feet, hitting the ground hard, and doesn’t pick himself back up.
The helmet – the trigger that changed whatever he’s seeing.
He doesn’t see a little girl who needs protection anymore. Jason sees…He sees – Steph doesn’t know what he sees, but there’s absolutely no aggression in his movements. There’s only confusion and, and fear. She swallows thickly. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen Jason outright afraid before. He uses anger and rage to cover up any of his actual emotions, wraps himself up in it like a blanket that’ll shield him.
If he can hurt them first, then they can’t hurt him worse – because he would deserve it then.
She’s been on the receiving end of that. They all have, back when they were all just orbiting around each other. Partners, but not friends. Allies, but not family. Their gravities have finally aligned, and they’re finally in the same space, and they see that side of Jason less and less.
Steph drops low, crouching despite the way her muscles burn. She shuffles closer. “Hey, hey,” she says softly, feeling kinda stupid for talking to Jason this way, but he’s trembling where he sits, poised to bolt. And it’s such a stark contrast to his protective aggression earlier her eyes sting. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real, okay?”
His mouth moves, but there’s no words. There’s a sound behind her and she doesn’t have to look to know it’s Tim, panting from his race to get here in time. Jason’s gaze drifts over her shoulder into the middle distance and his domino expands like his eyes are widening. He scrambles back, kicking up rocks, scrapping his palms along the rooftop.
“Nonono, get away,” he mutters frantically. “Get the fuck away from me.”
Stephanie lurches, but catches herself in time, her heart fluttering in her chest like a hummingbird’s wings. “I’ll stay right over here, Hood,” she assures him. “I’ll even back away. But I need you to come closer, okay? I need you to get away from the edge.”
Jason’s hand is one more mad scramble from the barely two-inch lip that acts as a barrier on this side of the roof. The building isn’t tall but…
There’s tears on his cheeks and he doesn’t move. He sobs sharply, once, twice, and he’s crumpling in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach, head ducked down and hiding his face. Stephanie risks it and inches a tiny bit closer – he recoils immediately, inching a tiny bit further away. His only saving grace is his hands aren’t what’s keeping him upright anymore.
“Please, no more,” he begs.
She swallows thickly. “No more,” she agrees. “No more, Hood. I promise. I can make it stop. I just need you to come to me.”
If she backs up, she won’t be close enough if he does go over the edge, but she can tell her proximity isn’t helping at all. His curled position is getting tighter, his legs drawing up, his shoulders creeping to his ears. He’s shaking all over, switching between languages easy as breathing, stuttering and thick, repeating phrases that she doesn’t need to know the basics to recognize what he’s saying.
(No, no, no, please, no more. Not again.)
Steph stares helplessly, glances back at Tim only for him to look just as lost. Colleen is clinging to him instead, cheeks blotchy and shiny, her shoulders heaving. She turns back to Jason, closes her eyes briefly and – this was a mistake.
Because when she opens them, Jason is looking at her, still wrapped up in himself, but looking at her. His expression is resignation and fear and a steadfast determination that, combined with everything else, makes her stomach curdle.
“Let her go,” he says earnestly. “Let her go and I’ll go with you.”
…what?
He leans towards her, unfolding gracefully even in his altered state. “Let the girl go and you, you can do whatever you want with me. I won’t fight. Promise.”
Steph swallows down bile. “God, no,” she chokes out, holding up a warding hand. Jason flinches, but then his shoulders straighten. “Hood, don’t – .”
“Take me instead.”
Tim makes a wounded noise from behind her and there’s the sound of gravel as he steps back, taking Colleen with him. Jason’s gaze flickers over her shoulder, just a slight tilt of his chin to show where he’s looking, but then it goes back to her. She holds up her other hand, using both of them to keep him away even though he’s not leaning any closer. She swallows again.
“No,” she says – and his face falls. “Hood, no. You, you – .”
Steph moves closer, unable to stop herself, unable to hold herself back after hearing Jason willing to sacrifice himself for the little girl. He sounds so knowing with his resignation and fear, like he knows exactly what he’s risking, what he’s asking for, and she hates, hates, hates that she has to hear that from him.
He shuffles back from her, an inch, two inches then –
“Jason!”
Steph screams as he slips over the edge, a flash of brown leather, black boots. He yelps as he goes, not even able to grab onto the lip of the roof in the abruptness. She throws herself after him and manages to snag his wrist, shouting when her shoulder wrenches painfully.
And – shit, she’s strong, but she’s not strong enough for this! She’s already sliding over the edge with him, nothing available for an anchor. The second she tries to reach with her other hand, they’re both gone. She feels Tim wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her back, but their combined weight is too much for him. Steph grits her teeth around a scream of frustration and just focuses on not letting go. Don’t let go.
Jason dangles limply from her grip, face bowed away from her. Red streaks his temple, oozing down the side of his face to curve along his jaw and drip off his chin. For a moment, she thinks he’s unconscious, but then his neck rolls and his head swings until he’s looking up at her. He reaches up with his free hand, clasping around where she has his wrist.
“Don’t you dare,” she hisses. Sweat is already beading her forehead, strands of hair falling from underneath her hood. Tim is a solid weight on her back, keeping her in place, there’s voices in her ear but she can’t focus on them. “Jason, don’t you fucking dare.”
“I can’t,” he breathes. “I can’t do this again. Please don’t make me do this again.”
“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. Jason,” she gasps out. “Don’t make me let go.” His fingers dig between hers. “Jason. Jay. JasonJasonJason – please.” She sobs around the word, loudly and unrestrained, it echoes in the space between them.
His nails dig into skin, scratching and scratching, but she refuses to let go. Even as blood starts welling up. Even as her grip grows slick as it pools between her fingers, as her palms grow sweaty. She just tightens her hold, clenches her teeth so hard her jaw aches. Jason keeps scrabbling at her hand, almost desperate, his lips moving inaudibly.
Her grip slides, just a little, and her heart stops. Jason jerks at the movement and that makes it so much worse. No. Nonono. No, she can’t let go. She can’t let this happen. Tears prick the corner of her eyes, stinging. Please, no.
“Please,” she echoes out loud. “Please, Jason.”
And he slides free even more – she’s barely hanging on. He slips and slips and –
Black and blue flashes in her peripherals, reaching past her to wrap a solid grip around Jason’s arm. His weight disappears, going up instead of down as Dick wrangles his little brother back onto the roof top.
They both go sprawling, Jason laying on top of him, shivering and shaking, face pressed into the bird emblem on Nightwing’s chest as he cries these loud, heaving sobs. Dick wraps careful arms around his back, his cheek resting on the crown of Jason’s head, something broken in his expression.
Tim helps Steph sit up. She cradles her arm to her chest, watching the two brothers. Batgirl is crouched a ways away with Colleen, the kid bundled in her arms with her face tucked against the hollow Cass’s neck to keep her from looking.
There’s a soft sound as Batman touches down on the rooftop. He pauses, surveying his team with an unreadable expression. Stephanie sniffles and rubs her face against her shoulder, trying to stop the tears.
To her surprise, instead of going to his sons, Bruce comes to her first. He crouches in front of her, rests a hand on her good shoulder, his mouth twisted into a solemn frown.
“Are you alright?” he asks softly. She blinks at him, eyes wide, then nods silently. His hand squeezes gently. “You did well, Spoiler. Great job.”
Steph ducks her head, hair sliding to hide her face. Tim cuddles a little closer, thumb rubbing soothing circles on her bicep. Bruce squeezes her shoulder one more time before he stands and goes to his sons.
He drops to his knees at their side, one hand resting on Dick’s shoulder, his other hand sliding into Jason’s hair, loose enough to easily knock away. Jason shudders at the touch, cowering into Dick’s embrace with a whimper. His sobs have quieted into small, hitching things, and she can’t decide if that’s better. Bruce doesn’t remove his hand, just rests it there without moving, not even to pet through it like she knows Jason won’t admit to liking.
Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Jason’s shivering lessens. Then, suddenly, he slumps, going boneless. Dick’s hand drops from where it’d crept up to the exposed part of his neck, something flashing in his grip. Not an antidote, she guesses. It’s a new strain, after all. So, a sedative most likely.
She sighs and leans into Tim, closing her eyes. He presses a chaste kiss to her temple, then helps her up. He takes most of her weight, her legs weak and her knees buckling. Tim eyes her for a second and then turns around to expose his back to her. She just stares.
“Get on,” he says. And she can’t think of a quippy remark, just climbs on. She presses a sigh into the knob of his spine, wrapping her arms around his neck, his hands under her thighs and hoisting her up more securely. “To the batmobile we go.”
Steph huffs a laugh, her vision blurring. She watches Bruce gather Jason into his arms, curly hair tickling his jaw as Jason’s head rests against his shoulder. Dick clambers to his feet, stretching. His back pops and he sighs. He runs a gentle hand through Jason’s hair, thumbing away some blood even though it does nothing in the grand scheme of things.
“Batgirl and I will see the girl home,” he says quietly. “Keep us updated?”
Batman nods. “Of course. Be careful.”
Dick flashes a quick, subdued smile, and then he’s turning towards Cass and Colleen, his body language going loose and friendly as he approaches. The three of them stay huddled together as Batman passes them. It’s an awkward fit through the rooftop access, Jason’s bulk being the biggest obstacle, but they make it through to the wider staircase.
Steph sighs, rests her forehead on Tim’s shoulder. “Onward, my trusted steed,” she mumbles into the kevlar-mix of his suit, trying to inject some of her standard bubbliness into her tone, but it just comes out exhausted and wrung out.
Tim moves without comment. She peeks out from under her hood, keeps her eyes on Jason’s boots – that’s the only thing she can see of him from around Batman’s own bulk. Her grip tightens around Tim’s neck, not quite strangling, but definitely close.
“He’s going to be okay,” Tim says quietly. “You were amazing, Steph.”
“I’m going to have nightmares for weeks,” she replies.
—
Steph is the only one in the med bay when Jason’s nose scrunches. She holds her breath as he groans, shifting. He raises a hand to block out the light even though it’s dimmed. Teal flashes between his lashes, only a sliver first, then he’s opening them fully to stare up at the ceiling. He doesn’t notice her as he blinks blearily, brows furrowing.
She slumps, just a little, when she sees the awareness in his eyes, the purposeful tracking as he looks at the IV in his arm and follows it to the saline bag they hooked him up to. Her movement catches his attention, making him jump. She smiles, something wane and wobbly, when he looks at her.
“You look like shit,” he rasps out. She hands him a sealed water bottle that takes a couple tries to open with his shaking hands. He swallows a few mouthfuls, gasping around each one. “You look like how I feel.”
Steph laughs. “Sounds about right.” She fiddles with the string of her hoodie. Well, Jason’s hoodie that Tim stole from him at one point and then she stole from Tim. It’s a faded Green Lantern one, because Tim’s smart enough to not steal his Wonder Woman one. “How much do you remember?” she asks tentatively.
Instead of telling her, he just holds out an arm. She stares at it for a long moment before her chin trembles and she’s crossing the space between them to collapse into his embrace, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.
She doesn’t cry loudly, just silent tears that soak into his shirt. She feels his own tears in her hair, feels the way his chest hitches.
“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. “I’m so sorry I made you deal with that.”
Steph shakes her head. “You didn’t make me deal with anything. Don’t apologize, you saved that little girl.” She pulls away slightly. His eyes are rimmed red, his cheeks blotchy. He looks exhausted already. “She would’ve overdosed on the amount of fear gas in that tiny space. You saved her life.”
He averts his gaze but doesn’t drop his arm. She shifts onto his bed more and he shuffles to the side to let her. Jason lays back down, closing his eyes.
“It took a few hours to synthesis an antidote. It’s been two days.” He grimaces. “I think Bruce has been spending most of his time at the computer when he wasn’t with you, trying to figure out how Crane got a new strain out while he was in Arkham.”
“Goodie,” he mumbles. When she doesn’t move, he cracks open an eye. “Well?”
Stephanie carefully moves so she’s lying next to him on her side, arm tucked under the pillow, her eyes on the side of his face. He doesn’t look at her, just untucks his arm and raises his hand silently. She takes it, lacing their fingers together, and cradles them to her chest. It must be an awkward position for him, but he just throws his other arm over his eyes and lets out a gusty sigh.
He falls asleep first. She’s drifting off when there’s the sound of footsteps and she spots blurry shape that clarifies into Bruce looming over them. She’s pretty sure, like, half his looms aren't purposeful and she’s definitely sure this is one of those times because there’s a warm, fond smile on his face.
Bruce grabs a blanket from the cabinet, one of the good ones they only break out when no one’s bleeding, and drapes it over the two of them. He presses a kiss to the side of her head, like something a dad would do, and she’ll never admit to warmth that curls in her chest at the thought, and he runs fingers through Jason’s hair since he decided to cover his face. Jason murmurs in his sleep and shifts, arm falling away, and Bruce takes immediate advantage to kiss his forehead. His nose scrunches and Steph laughs sleepily.
He winks at her and whispers, “Go to sleep. I’ve got watch.”
It doesn’t take long for her to follow Jason into dreamland.