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Jason has always feared the future. As a child, he thought he'd be dead before 18, that or he'd be working for one of the gangs. Neither future was one he wanted, but it was the future kids like him got. Everyone knows there's no leaving Crime Alley, theres no use trying, it'll always take you back eventually. Being homeless only made it worse, death lurking around every corner, nestled comfortably between the other unfortunate people in the Alley. Jason fell asleep wondering if this would be the time he didn't wake up.
But Jason survived. Jason made it out.
Maybe…maybe he'll be the first to not be pulled back into the misery of Crime Alley, trapped in a cycle of pain and vices.
For a while, Jason stops being scared of his future. He has Bruce and Alfred and maybe, hopefully, Dick. He can have everything he ever dreamed of. Jason even became Robin, is able to help people. Soaring across rooftops with Batman beside him, Jason can forget why the future had ever seemed to terrifying.
Forgetting was a mistake.
-*-
Jason can see red and black and brown in his peripheral vision, brief flashes of something that's always gone when be turns around. He doesn't mention it to anyone, they could kick him out, lock him away in Arkham. Jason doesn't want to be crazy, so he ignores it. The flashes don't go away though, if anything they become more frequent, appearing more and more until they just never leave. He can't see what's causing them though, whatever it is perpetually lingers on the edge of his line of sight, taunting him. It stays for weeks, making him jumpy and paranoid. Bruce and Alfred are worried, so Jason tries to ignore it more, ignore the shifting colours that won't leave him alone. Ignoring it doesn't work.
Then the voice appears. It taunts him, cruel and callous and angry.
“You could've dodged that.”
“You should know that already.”
“You should know better.”
“You should do better.”
“Stop being a coward.”
“Stop being weak.”
“Stop being so pathetic.”
Jason can't tune it out, the words echoing around him. The voice belittles him over every mistake, insults flowing around him almost constantly. It always seems to find something he does wrong, from the way he fights to the way he speaks. It’s there when he fails to dodge a punch, it's there when he struggles with homework, it's there when he has to ask Bruce help, it's there when he cries in his room after a nightmare. Everything he does is wrong, according to the voice, nothing Jason does is good enough.
Jason tells himself it's not real, that doesn't stop it from speaking.
-*-
Jason spends months being picked apart by a phantom made of swirling colour. He's stuck in his own head, every action resulting in another insult. Pretending nothings wrong is hard, but Jason tells Bruce and Alfred he's fine so many times that they stop asking. The voice chips away at any self confidence, until all that's left are shaky walls he built for when he's out as Robin. Jason starts to believe it, when it's being particularly vocal, starts to think maybe he really is doing everything wrong.
But the voice is more than his own personal critic.
“He deserves to die.”
“You should've let them fall.”
“Death is the only way to stop any of them.”
The voice doesn't like the rogues, or many of the worse criminals he stops as Robin. It wants the rogues dead, wants rapists dead, wants abusers dead. It wants so many people dead, sometimes it'll tell him how they ‘deserve to die’. Jason doesn't like when it does that, the scenes it describes are right out of the case files Bruce doesn't like him seeing. The voice wants blood, wants violence.
Jason hates it just as much as it seems to hate him.
-*-
The first time he sees it, Jason thinks he's finally, completely, lost his mind.
A large man, somehow even taller and broader than Bruce, with a bright red helmet and a brown leather jacker, is leaning on the doorframe. Jason's alone in the library, frozen on the chair he'd been reading in. The man is looking at him through the eerily blank lenses of his helmet. Just as Jason is about to speak, the man waves one gloved hand at him, and Bruce walks right through him. Jason stares for a moment as Bruce enters, apparently having seen nothing, and tears his eyes away from the man that isn't really there.
The man comes back, because of course he does, and Jason realises that he was both the colours and the voice. The man keeps up his stream of vicious commentary, either lounging across the room and shouting at him, or leaning in close to speak directly into his ear.
“Take it.”
“Do better.”
“Kill them.”
“Be better.”
“Finish it.”
“Try harder.”
“It's deserved.”
“Stop crying.”
He won't shut up and Jason wants to scream.
The man doesn't always look the same. The jacket can be brown or black, the visible weapons can change, sometimes his shirt is painted with a mockery of the bat symbol. Sometimes, Jason can see blood splattered over him, coating the soles of his boots, drying on his jacket, dripping of the dagger he sometimes has on his belt. The only thing that stays the same is the helmet, the bright red impossible for Jason to ignore.
Jason doesn't know why he's being haunted, why the man seems to hate him so much, why he can make Jason hate himself so easily, but he doesn't want to ask. Jason doesn't want this to be real, doesn't want to be crazy, so he ignores it, even as venom drips off the man's tongue and worms its way into Jason's mind, poisoning his thoughts. The man isn't real, no one else can see him, which means Jason shouldn't.
-*-
The man doesn't go away, though, and it's becoming harder and harder for Jason to ignore him.
“You should know the answer to that already.”
Jason's just trying to do his homework, something made much more difficult with someone constantly nit-picking everything from his answers to his handwriting.
“You can't be that stupid,” The man says, in the same arrogant tone he always uses.
“Shut up,” Jason mutters, scribbling down his answer.
“So you can hear me!” The man crows, much more excited about this than Jason is. “You can see me as well, right? You have a staring problem.”
“Yes,” Jason answers through gritted teeth. “I can. Now shut up and let me focus.”
“Why were you so insistent on ignoring me? It was kinda rude, honestly,” Jason tries to go back to ignoring him, the man is much ruder than him, so he doesn't really care what he thinks. Sadly, this doesn't work. “That's answer’s wrong.”
“Will you leave me alone!” Jason whisper-yells. He doesn't want anyone deciding to check up on him because he's talking to himself, regardless of how big the Manor is.
“If I could do that I'd've left already,” The man huffs. “Not like I want to be stuck with you.”
He says the last word like Jason's something gross stuck to the bottom of his boot. It'd make him feel bad, if he hadn't already decided he hated the man too much to care about his opinions.
“Then why do you keep talking to me?” Jason huffs back, scowling.
“It's boring, not being able to do anything,” The man says, moving from his position behind Jason to flop onto the bed. There's no dip in the mattress despite his size, but he doesn't go through it.
“So you entertain yourself by insulting me and telling me to kill people?” Jason says incredulously. He honestly can't believe the man has the audacity to haunt him and then belittle him for entertainment.
“Exactly!” Jason gets the strong impression that the man is grinning at him. The only smiles he can picture are either smug, cruel, mocking, or a mixture of those.
“If you shut up and let me do this I'll stop ignoring you for a while,” He tries to bargain.
“Fine, it gets boring when you don't respond anyway,” It's obvious the man doesn't actually want to talk to him, but he's apparently bored enough to do it anyway. Jason sighs in relief and turns back to his desk.
Hopefully this won't backfire spectacularly.
-*-
Suprisingly, it only backfires a little.
Jason finishes his homework in peace, and turns to the man.
“So, do you have a name I can call you?” He asks, resigned to actually talking to the man until Alfred calls him down for tea. The man hums, contemplating, before answering.
“Red Hood,” He says casually, and Jason freezes. He remembers Bruce mentioning that name before.
“Isn't that-”
“The name Joker went by? Yep,” Red Hood, and the name means the helmet now makes much more sense, interrupts. “I stole it from him.”
Jason untenses slightly, atleast he's not being haunted by some leather clad version of the Joker.
“Why?” He asks, curious.
“None of your business,” Red Hood spits, making Jason scowl at him.
“Okay, damn,” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine I won't ask.”
He gets the impression that Red Hood is rolling his eyes behind the helmet.
“Why are you haunting me then?” Jason tries. It's a good question, really, considering he knows nothing about this guy. Well, aside from the fact that he hates Jason and apparently really wants a lot of people dead.
“No clue, I just appeared one day and couldn't leave,” He shrugs, shifting to lean against Jason's headboard.
“Well who are you?”
“Already told you that,” Red Hood says. Jason rolls his eyes.
“You gave me an alias, not a name,” He huffs, crossing his arms.
“Same thing,” Red Hood waves him off.
Jason's saved from having to respond to the man by Alfred knocking on his door and announcing that tea's ready. It's a good thing he'd been speaking quietly.
“Look, don't bother me infront of the others, okay?” He whispers, lowering his voice further before saying, at a normal volume: “Okay, I'll be down in a second!”
“Fine, I won't talk to you,” Red Hood says dismissively, Jason really hates the guy.
Jason ignores him and heads down to dinner, briefly registering Red Hood trailing behind him. Apparently they can't be too far apart, although the man has never been in the bathroom with him. Or the Cave's changing room or showers, he realises. At least the guy haunting him isn't a creep, just a massive prick.
Tea goes well, even with Red Hood's presence. Oddly enough, the man never commented on what Jason ate unless it was telling him he needs vegetables, or should eat more. He didn’t at first, but those comments became more and more common as time went on. Considering how he belittles everything else Jason does, it seems out of character. The man does, however, seem to find ways to pick at how he talks with Bruce. Half the time, he's insulting Bruce more than Jason, but it's still incredibly annoying.
“Are you seriously making small talk with your kid?”
“I don't get how you deal with this, honestly.”
“You know, you could at least try and change the topic, he's going to bore me to death.”
Considering Jason was pretty sure red Hood was already dead, that seemed unlikely.
-*-
When Jason's back in his room, he makes sure to take the bed before Red Hood can, he hasn’t before but Jason doesn't want him getting any ideas, leaving the man to lounge in his desk chair. Red Hood doesn't seem to care.
“I thought I said not to talk?” Jason scowls at him, the man's incessant chatter was almost impossible to ignore.
“You said not to talk to you, I was just talking in general,” Red Hood replies, much too smug for Jason's tastes.
“You literally spoke to me, besides I'm the only other person that can hear you!” He says, exasperated.
“Not like you had to reply,” Red Hood dismisses. Jason groans.
“Okay, can you at least let me patrol without telling me to kill people every ten minutes?” He tries.
“Where's the fun in that? I need entertainment somehow, you don't get punched quite enough to properly entertain me,” Jason scowls harder, making Red Hood laugh.
“At least tone it down a little?”
“We'll see.”
-*-
The man doesn't tone it down, in fact Jason's pretty sure he's being more obnoxious out of spite. Seriously, how can he find something to insult everything Jason does? There's an insult every time he grapples, punches, and breaths too loudly. It's wearing on him. Usually, there was at least a minute or so between comments, now Jason's lucky to get 10 seconds of quiet.
As much as he hates the man, Jason can't help but let the comments get to him. Maybe he is doing everything wrong. Or, if not everything, then some things. Maybe he is weak. Maybe he is a coward. Red Hood's non-stop taunts grate at him, poking at old insecurities and digging them up from where they'd been buried. Bruce notices he's distracted, of course, and pulls him aside.
“Robin, if you need a break you can head back to the cave,” Bruce says and Jason can see the worry behind the stony facade of the cowl.
“I'm fine,” He snaps at Bruce, eyes widening when he realises. Bruce doesn't mention it though.
“If you say so, there's not shame if you need to head back early, though,” Bruce moves to swing away and Jason follows. Faltering as Red Hood scoffs beside him.
“Why would you need to end patrol already? It's only been a couple hours,” It's not a question, not really, it's just another way to call Jason weak. He scowls at the man, who just stares back from behind that stupid helmet.
Jason runs to catch up with Bruce, ignoring Red Hood's laughter following him across the rooftops.
-*-
Jason can't do it anymore. It's been weeks since he spoke to Red Hood and nothings changed. Sure, they talk when Jason's not around other people, but the man still doesn't bother to hide his dislike of Jason. They don't have productive conversations, instead it's thinly veiled, or not veiled at all, insults, snide comments, and mockery. Jason tries to hurt the man back, but nothing seems to stick, Red Hood simply laughing at him. It's worse when Jason says the man couldn't pull off a move better than him, only for Red Hood to do something infinitely more impressive.
Jason's spiraling, everything he does feels like a mistake. He second guesses his every move, his every word, taunts battering against his mind incessantly. The words worm their way into the crevices of his brain, lingering and spreading like mould. Bruce keeps checking in on him, so does Alfred, but laughter rings in his ears and all he can do is say he's fine, just tired. He can't take anymore of this, he realises.
“Look,” He says to Red Hood one day, just after lunch. They're in his room, Jason sat at his desk again with Red Hood lying on the bed, arms crossed behind his head. “You can't keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” Red Hood asks, as if he doesn't know exactly what Jason's talking about.
“Insulting me? Belittling me? Acting as if everything I do is wrong?” Jason exclaims, trying desperately to keep his voice down. “There has to be more entertaing things to do than try and destroy my self esteem!”
“There's literally not, I can't exactly touch things. Or got too far from you. Or do much of anything, really,” Red Hood replies, using the same dismissive, arrogant, irritating tone he always does when Jason tries asking him to do literally anything.
“Why don't you find something then! Do something better with your life- afterlife- whatever!” Jason says, unable to deal with the man's attitude right now. “Just stop insulting me every time I do literally anything!”
“Fucking- Fine!” Red Hood says, rolling his eyes behind the helmet. He does it so much Jason can even tell when Bruce does it behind the cowl. “I'll do something else whilst trapped in my own personal hell, then!”
“How is this your personal hell? If anything it's mine!” Jason can't believe it, his life with Bruce was great before all this. Red Hood laughs darkly, it's less mocking and more sinister, like he's in on some cosmic joke and Jason isn't going to like the punchline.
Red hood sits up and stares at him for a moment.
“I'll show you how,” He reaches up and fiddles with the back of his helmet, before lifting it off his head.
Jason…
Jason doesn't know what he's looking at.
That's his face, he's sure of it. Its older, sure, and half covered in burn scars, with jagged lines criss crossing over the unburnt sections. There's a tuft of white in the short, black curls and the eyes are swirling teal instead of blue, but it's his face. Red Hood even wears a lenseless domino under his helmet, which is just the level of dramatic Jason aspires to.
Red Hood has his face.
Red Hood is Jason.
“Suprise,” Red Hood grins, it's lopsided and pulls at the burns on his cheek.
“You- How-?” Jason sputters, lost for words.
“Well, the future's certainly something. Still can't tell you why I'm here, as far as I'm aware, I just woke up here one day.”
Red Hood can't be Jason's future, it's not possible.
-*-
Red Hood isn't Jason.
Jason cares about people, believes in second chances, believes in Batman. Jason knows not everyone is good, doesn't always think everyone can be redeemed, but he doesn't want them dead. Jason isn't a bad person.
Red Hood is. He's cruel, violent, angry, and seemingly wants to paint Gotham red with the blood of anyone he deems fit. Red Hood doesn't care about second chances or redemption. Red Hood hates Bruce, hates Batman, vitriol follows Jason when they patrol, condemning Batman's methods.
Red Hood isn't Jason.
Red hood apparently doesn't get the memo, not putting his helmet back on now that Jason's seen his face. He hates looking at it, the way his hair curls, the line of his jaw, the crooked nose, the scars. The scars are probably the worst part, burns creep up the right side of his face, and thick twisting lines cut across pale skin. Jason doesn't want to know what scars are hidden by his clothes. Red Hood looks like Jason, looks eerily similar to Bruce, and Jason feels sick looking at him. That man can't be Jason, not matter how similar they look, because Jason refuses to accept that he could turn out that way.
-*-
Jason tries to ignore him, but Red Hood only gets meaner when Jason doesn't speak to him. His words cut deep, digging at every insecurity Jason has. So Jason gives in, he hates it, doesn't want to relent to the barrage of insults, but he does.
They only speak when Jason's alone, Red Hood thankfully leaving him be when there's people around. Jason doesn't want to be caught talking to air, doesn't want to be called crazy. Maybe he is crazy, he's seeing something no one else can, after all. Red Hood tells him he's there, but a hallucination wouldn't exactly tell him it's a hallucination.
Crazy or not, Jason starts to settle into a routine. He wakes up, speaks to Red Hood for a bit, goes to breakfast, gets dressed (luckily alone), goes to school (or elsewhere in the Manor if it's the weekend), has lunch, does homework, speaks to Red Hood again, has dinner, goes back to his room and entertains Red Hood again, goes on patrol, then goes to sleep. Red Hood stops speaking as much outside of their usual times, only piping up to insult Bruce, or occasionally give Jason tips when hes training. He's even started telling Jason when someone's sneaking up on him or tries to shoot him, stopping Jason from getting hit on numerous occasions.
As much as he dislikes the man, Jason is thankful for the help, and the way he's stopped telling Jason to kill people every night. Now, he sticks to the worst of the criminals and rogues Jason encounters. He catches Red Hood staring longingly at the library sometimes, Jason's also caught him staring at different portraits on the walls with a wistful expression. It must be boring, being stuck following someone and not able to interact with anything or anyone else. It must be lonely. Jason wonders if Red Hood has friends, family even, that he's been unable to see or speak to. If he does, he hasn't told Jason about them.
“Are you gonna try leave anytime soon?” Jason asks one day, setting his book, one Bruce had bought him, on his chest, bookmark tucked between the pages.
“Not sure where I'd even start,” Red Hood shrugs, turning away from the window to look at him. He's taken to staring out of it whilst Jason reads or does his homework, apparently entertained by looking at the Manor gardens. It's strange, it wasn't long ago he was insistent that antagonising Jason was the only entertainment he got, but now he seems content with the heavy silences that settle over them.
“Really? Not even one person who can try get rid of you?” Jason complains.
“Well you could try find Constantine,” Red Hood huffs, turning back to the window. Jason groans, he wouldn't even know where to start. Zatanna is also out, because she'd tell Bruce, and Bruce would think Jason's gone crazy.
“So I'm stuck with you then?”
“No, I'm stuck with you.”
-*-
Now that Red Hood isn't constantly antagonising him, Jason realises he's starting to enjoy the company. The man's sarcastic commentary and dark quips can be funny, and his advice, even when it's accompanied by teasing comments, is helpful. Apparently they even have similar taste in books, although not in TV, and can spend hours talking about them. It's nice, having someone to fill the silence that creeps through the Manor and over the rooftops. Jason's always liked quiet, quiet means safety, but silence means danger. The Manor is often silent, too large for 3, sometimes 4, people, and Jason used to seek out Alfred to escape the stifling silence of his room.
Currently, Jason's watching as Red Hood lounges on Bruce's desk, the lower halves of legs hanging over the edge as he leans over Bruce's paperwork. He has to move so Bruces hands dont go through him, Jasons not sure if its uncomfortablefor him or if Red Hood does it automatically, forgetting that Bruce can’t touch him. Jason's reading on the small sofa in the office as Bruce does work for WE, something they try to do as often as possible. Bruce isn't always the best at being around people, neither is Jason, but they still crave company. Just company that won't talk much. How Bruce keeps up the ‘Brucie’ act, Jason has no idea. Red Hood snorts slightly as Bruce picks up a new piece of paper, considering Bruce's eyebrows raise slightly, it must be outrageous. Looking closer, it's not paper, rather, it's a thick, white piece of card.
Fuck, it's a gala invitation, Jason had forgotten about Bruce's habit of going through the post at his desk.
“Looks like we'll be going to a gala next month, Jaylad,” Bruce announces, smiling slightly at Jason, who groans. “I know, but this one's a charity gala, it's apparently raising money to open a women's shelter in Midtown.”
Jason agrees with the cause, but he absolutely hates galas. Everyone either sticks their noses up at him, often literally, or pretends to be nice to get into Bruce's pants. Also, they're boring.
“Definitely don't miss going to those,” Red Hood comments. “Galas were the worst.”
Jason would glare at him if Bruce wasn't looking at him.
“Fine, can we leave early though?” He asks.
“We'll see how it goes,” Bruce says, turning back to his pile of paper and envelopes.
Jason goes back to reading The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, happy to ignore the upcoming gala for as long as possible.
-*-
The gala came too fast, and now Jason was stuck in a suit, in a room that's too crowded despite being so loud, hiding in a corner to avoid everyone. Bruce had wandered off not long after they arrived, trusting Jason not to run off, and giving him a chance to escape the throngs that gather around Bruce.
“Y'know, I bet you could leave and wander the gardens,” Red Hood commented. He looks laughably out of place in his leather and armour, leaning against the wall and toying with a knife he pulled out from somewhere. His costume is bloody, has been for hours, red dripping off him for only Jason to see. It lingers on surfaces for a moment, before vanishing like it was never there. Jason doesn't like when Red Hood is bloody, he knows its not the man's own blood, but someone else's. Still, he laughs quietly at the comment.
“And risk catching people making out? Absolutely not. Besides, Bruce likes to check up on me, I'd have to ask to leave, and he's always swarmed by people,” Jasom murmurs, barely audible over the gentle piano music floating through the room.
“I forgot about that,” Red Hood shudders. “One time I caught a couple with their hands down eachothers pants, it was awful.”
“Gross,” Jason grimaces. Red Hood laughs.
Jason eyes the table laden with food, this gala not having a formal dinner, just waiters wandering the hall and a buffet style table. It's not too far, or too crowded, he could slip himself some food then hide rhe rest of the night. Then, Red Hood tenses, scowling at something behind him. Jason tenses as well, whipping around to see what's wrong.
It's a kid.
Well, kid is a strong word, the boy looks like he's maybe a couple years younger than Jason. He eyes Red Hood, the man never indicated at hating kids before, so what's making him so angry now. The kid stares up at him with big blue eyes, black hair brushing his eyebrows. Jason smiles at him.
“Uh, hi?” He says, tentatively, the kid looks nervous, like he hadn't expected to be noticed.
“Hi!” The kid squeaks, actually squeaks, then flushes. “Sorry…”
“Don't worry about it, can I help you?” Jason ignores Red Hood's glaring, now accompanied by rage-filled muttering. Jason can't understand what he's saying, and if he could, he'd pretend he can't.
“I was just, uh,” The kid eyes the table behind Jason. “Getting food! Yeah.”
The kid scurries off before Jason can say anything else, leaving him with Red Hood.
“Dude,” Jason whispers. “What's your problem?”
Red Hood doesn't answer, having turned to glare at the kid. Jason sighs, internally groaning dramatically, deciding to leave the man to his one sided staring contest. It's none of his business, even if Red Hood does look suspiciously like Jason. And references stuff Jason remembers doing. And acts sort of like Jason when he's not being angry and homocidal.
It's none of Jason's business who the weird ghost haunting him hates.
-*-
Jason doesn't bring it up when they finally get back home, sure it was weird, but everything about Red Hood is weird. Red Hood doesn't bring it up either, and Jason soon pushes the incident out of his mind.
Time passes as usual, Jason goes to school, goes on patrol, and works through all the books Bruce keeps buying him. Bruce likes to buy people things, and now that Jason's been living with him for a while, he's accepted that it's just how the man shows affection. That and being overprotective. When Jason had first arrived at the Manor, he'd hated it when Bruce tried to spend money on him, now he looks forward to their trips to various bookshops. He's finished the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series and has started collecting various Discworld books. Books are one of the few things Jason lets Bruce spend large amounts of money on, but they came to a silent agreement that Bruce wouldn't constantly buy things for Jason pretty early on.
Red Hood trails after him, more content to look around and leave Jason be than he was at the start. His words have become less grating over time, more teasing than mocking. Jason's still wary, reminded that Red Hood isn't a good person everything he appears drenched in blood or tells Jason someone deserves to die. It's better than it was before, though.
Then, school ends, and Jason spends his days wandering the Manor and spending time with Bruce and Alfred. Dick comes round sometimes, takes him out and makes awkward small talk. Jason starts to like Dick, he can tell the man's actually making an effort to get to know him after previously dismissing him entirely. Red Hood doesn't seem to know what to do about Dick, glaring at him but not speaking. He seems uncomfortable seeing him, conflicted over things Jason can't begin to try and figure out. It's easy to ignore him, though, when Jason's talking with Dick. They complain about Bruce's overprotectiveness, make fun of rogues, and talk about school, comparing teachers and peers.
The holidays are fun, for Jason, but as August rolls around, he notices Red Hood acting weirder than usual. It'll be his 15th birthday soon, and Alfred's bitrhay, not that Jason knows how old the man is. Jason insisted on being involved in the planning, both for the gala Bruce has to hold according to the rules of Gotham high society, and the smaller, more personal celebration. Red Hood is sharper, the closer it gets, snapping more and brooding in Jason's peripheral vision. Jason doesn't let it stop him from getting excited.
His birthday gala is dull, like all the other galas are. Jason runs into the kid again, but he scurries off just as quick as last time, like he can sense the glares being directed at him by Red Hood. Jason ignores the man's brooding and snapping, wanting to enjoy his birthday, and his holiday, instead. What's going on with Jason's personal ghost doesn't matter, even if he is getting worried.
The personal celebration is nicer, Dick comes round to the Manor and doesn't even argue with Bruce. Bruce gets him a first edition of Frankenstein, Alfred gives him a poetry collection, claiming it to be a personal favourite, and Dick gets him merch for various things Jason mentioned over the summer. Dick acts like he's trying to make up for past hostility with gifts, Jason recognises it as something Bruce does and wisely chooses not to bring it up. Yet, at least. Jason is also given a photo book. It was put together by all of them, something that's obvious through the different handwriting.
Some pages are carefully put together, orderly and neat in a way that screams Alfred. Bruce's pages are filled with careful cursive and neatly placed photos, set apart from Alfred's by the little drawings dotted around. Bruce had told Jason, once, that he used to get in trouble for drawing on his schoolwork, as Jason had gotten in trouble for the same thing. Jason had said it was stupit to be in trouble for it, Bruce had agreed and shown him the doodles he makes next to the notes he takes in business meeting. Dicks pages are fewer, the photos crooked. He does use cursive, instead, the words are dotted around in neat print. He uses different pens, probably whatever he had on hand, and dots stickers and doodles around the sparse photos. Several are from this summer. The book isn't full, leaving room for Jason to add more as time passes. The photo book makes Jason tear up a bit and wrap everyone in a hug, thanking them profusely for everything.
Throughout it all, Jason didn't realise Red Hood in the corner, silent and still like one of the gargoyles dotted around the city.
-*-
Red Hood seems to untense after Jason's 15th birthday, but he's still more tense than he was before. Jason doesn't understand, but it's starting to get on his nerves.
“Okay, seriously, what is your problem?” He asks one day, when they're at the edge of the Manor gardens. Jason likes to read in the sun, sat under trees with the wind curling around him and the birds flitting to and fro above him. He's reading Frankenstein, having rushed to finish his previous book and read the one Bruce got him for his birthday.
“Nothing,” The man huffs, irritated. Red Hood is pacing through the gardens near to where Jason sits. The animals give him space, as if they know he's there. Jason's never seen one go through him, although he has seen several people walk through the man.
“You're almost as annoying as you were when you first appeared,” Jason snarks, rolling his eyes.
“It's none of your business, kid,” That's another thing, Red Hood's taken to using nicknames, never ones derived from his name, or even his actual name, just things like ‘kid’ or ‘brat’ or ‘little shit’. Jason doesn't know why, and doesn't particularly mind. Although, he doesn't see why, considering he's the only one who can speak to Red Hood, so the man doesn't even need to use a name to address him.
“It's my business when you're being an asshole,” Jason replies.
“Leave it alone,” Red Hood snaps. Jason scowls at him, turning back to his book in a huff.
He doesn't try ask about it again.
-*-
School starts up again, and things proceed as usual. Jason ignores the somewhat more irritable ghost following him outside of when they're alone and doesn't try and make Red Hood talk about his feelings. The man's worse than Bruce, which is saying something. Time passes, Jason gets injured and Red Hood hovers around him pretending not to worry.
Then Jason meets Garzonas. Sees what he did to Gloria. Hates him. Red Hood is angry beside him, tells him to do it, to push Garzonas off the balcony. Jason hesitates, he shouldn't, he can't. Maybe that'd be what turned him into Red Hood, if the man was really him. It's like what Bruce says, once you kill you can't come back from it.
Garzonas still ends up dead.
Bruce won't listen to him, Jason knows he didn't push him, but no matter what he says its no use. He gets benched, yells at Bruce, cries a bit in his room, the ghost hovering awkwardly and trying to tell him it'll be okay. Red Hood says Bruce still loves him, which he's never said before. Jason knows the man hates Bruce, but he seems worried. He wants Jason to promise that he knows Bruce loves him, won't send him away or take away Robin. Jason can't believe him.
Jason is Robin again, then he isn't. He breaks a drug dealers collarbone, angry, but not at the man himself. Not really. Jason looks at his city, and all he can see is injustice, people struggling and people who make them struggle. He wants to fix it, desperately hopes that he can make it better. Bruce tries, but it's not enough. He doesn't know what Gotham really needs.
Jason goes back to his old flat, the one he lived in with his mum and dad. He's given a box of things by an old neighbour, takes it back to the Manor to look through. It's their he finds a birth certificate that claims someone else to be his mother.
Three women, names taken from his father's phone book, three chances. Bruce things something wrong with him, Jason heard him talking to Alfred, its why he went back to that flat in the first place. Red Hood tries to stop him, has tried constantly, every since Garzonas.
“Think about what you're doing, what you're leaving behind.”
“Bruce does love you, he won't send you away.”
“Just talk to him.”
“Kid please.”
“Kid.”
“Kid wait.”
Jason ignores him.
He meets up with Bruce along the way, the Joker's schemes leading Batman to where Jason's searching. They work together, cross out 2 names from his list. Then Jason meets Sheila Haywood. Red Hood pleads with him, sounding more scared than Jason's ever heard him. But he can't stop now, not when he's so close.
“Kid please, don't do it,” Red Hood stands infron of him, tense and shaking slightly.
“I need this,” Jason mutters as he walks through him.
For all his pleading and warning, Red Hood never told Jason what'd happen to him.
In the warehouse, Red Hood is nowhere in sight, just the Joker infront of him, and Sheila in the doorway. All he wanted to do was help her.
He still tried to save her in the end. She unties him after they get locked in the warehouse, helping him drag his body across the floor. Red Hood tries and fails to help, cursing under his breath. Jason turns his head to look at him, whispering.
“Where is he?”
“He doesn't make it in time,” Red Hood replies, voice breaking.
Jason covers Sheila as the bomb goes off, Red Hood trying to cover him. The heat and shrapnel goes through him, hitting Jason. The world goes black, smoke filling his mouth and pain waking his body.
As he drifts off, trying desperately to cling onto life, he hears 2 people shout.
“Jason!”
One voice has a too familiar cadence, rough and damaged by smoke inhalation. The other is deep and gravelly. Both are desperate. Both are anguished.
Jason lets himself go. His dad is here. Maybe Red Hood will put aside his anger and help Bruce save him. That way, the man would no longer have to be alone, stuck with Jason for years on end. Jason thinks they'd get along, despite their differences.
Jason drifts, pain fading away, until there's nothing.
Then he's gone.
-*-
Jason emerges from the lazarus pit angry, memories flashing through his addled mind. It's not until he kills his first teacher he remembers Red Hood. Remembers the ghost that haunted him before he died.
Red Hood really was him after all.
Jason used to fear the future. Now, he looks forward to what it brings.