Chapter Text
Jason was having a good day.
He let the music notes wash over him. Classical music was something he had tought was for old, boring, pretentious people, right up until Alfred gave him new perspective. That classical music was awesome, especially when you could lay on your very comfortable couch with a book in hand.
The tea he just made was sitting on the coffee table with a healthy (not by Alfred's standards) amount of honey within. He had slightly burned his lips when he tried it. A distraction he finds welcome because neither the music nor the book could help him distract enough from his thoughts lingering on da- Bruce.
And fuck if he still wasn't somewhat mad at him, even if they were cordial right now. Sure, he understood the situation better. That Tim wasn't supposed to be a replacement, that d- Bruce almost killed the Joker. Keyword doing a lot of heavy lifting here.
Almost.
So why can't Jason feel any of the love and still be cast aside- No, nope, it was time for him to relax. Dick wanted to treat him to brunch, Alfred promised him gossip over tea, Cass and Steph wanted to try and make a dent in Bruce's card with shopping and Damian promised to introduce his newest adopted animals. Now's the time to ignore everything and get himself lost in a book. He had made the mistake of starting "Bud, not Buddy" (a very good suspect on why he has his family on his mind) before deciding that indulging in his favorite book, Pride and prejudice, would be better for his mental health.
And nothing good can last, because fucking aliens decided it was the best time to invade Earth. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Red Hood was now getting civilians to emergency centers and shooting aliens in the face. Exactly how he didn't want his evening to go. His frayed nerves were frayed even more by the fact that the Justice League didn't seem to have their shit together at all.
So Jason was not having a good day.
The aliens were these weird humanish pink hued blobs that shot at civilians carelessly. And Red Hood would return the favor gladly by putting them six under.
He got an unlucky woman away from a couple of aliens with a few well placed bullets right between their pseudo-eyes, taking her to safety when a sudden, very specific kind on speedster-wind hit his senses.
Impulse, stood before him. Red Hood could immediately tell that something was wrong. The usually lively and carefree (even in the face of danger) speedster had grief and sorrow painted on his face. He wasn't fidgeting, it looked like he was struggling to keep his composure. His suit was dirty, singed and slightly torn in some places. Sure, this was an alien invasion, but something was wrong.
"What's going on? Do you need my help to blow up some aliens?" Red Hood's mechanical voice sounded out while he took out some more assailants across the street.
"You need to come with me if we'll ever have a chance of defeating them."
Before Hood could protest or ask more, the familiar sensation of going way too fast enveloped him. Regaining his bearings, Hood found himself in a Justice League base, more exactly in a service room full of planes and spaceships.
In the middle of the room there was a ship that looked in the middle of repairs. Various pieces on the ground spread in a purposeful mess.
Jason put his gun back in its place and crossed his arms. He let his full attention fall on the teen before him, only slightly trying to make him nervous. "Wanna' tell me what this is about? I don't think you brought me here for no reason. Is this an all hands on deck typ' situation?"
Impulse took a deep shaky breath and started. "We failed."
"What?"
"Aliens had been infiltrating the Justice League WatchTower for years. They released a virus in our computers and placed spies in key positions in governments. They lured-" A sob interupted his report. "They-" Impulse took a second to compose himself, looking up and ignoring the tears that were in free fall now.
"They got all of our weaknesses and Batman's contingencies. We're the only ones left." The last part came out strangled. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save them. I- We, we can go back in time and save everyone. This time you'll be with me so that I can't mess it up again."
Red Hood was shocked. Understatement of the century. Before he could say anything Bart continued. "I'll finish the ship in a minute or two and we can go. I'm sorry." And off he went to finish the machine. And Jason? He just sat down, mourning thinking.
They got in the ship last minute. Aliens had infiltrated the building, but not the room they were in, they would pull through by the skin of their teeth. Impulse finished the necessary programing and they activated it. Suddenly, an explosion of color enveloped the ship. And with that, as soon as it started, it was over.
Red Hood was the first to regain his bearings. He checked Impulse and he seemed far worse for wear. "What's going on? Some sort of time travel nausea?"
Impulse groaned, letting his whole body weight slump on the chair, arms dangling. "No. I just don't have enough calories in me. I'll be really fatigued and maybe delirious. You should get me some food after you get the virus out of the Tower."
Jason looked at him like ge grew a second head. He for sure was going to get Impulse food first. He just needed to figure out where and when they landed.
Looking out the windscreen he could see that it was day time, the weather seemed sunny. They were in a forest, a warehouse to his- No. Not a warehouse.
The warehouse.
Ethiopia. Where his biological mother she doesn't deserve that title betrayed him and handed him over to the Joker. Where he was beat half to death and then blown up.
Where he had died.
He didn't think. Couldn't. He rushed to the building.
"What hurts more? Forehand?"
A deafening sound.
"Or backhand?"
The sound of metal on skin.
This was the sight that greeted Red Hood as he stealthily made his was into the warehouse.
Himself- Robin, layed on the ground. God, he was so small. His shoes and utility belt gone. Red Hood knew it was hidden behind some boxes. Out of sight.
In the back? Sheila. Atop a table, smoking without a care in the world. Face blank, almost bored. How dare she? How can she just stand there when her flesh and blood is being brutalised-
But Red Hood's attention was on only one person. One shot. Joker was beating Robin up. The display made even more sickening when he knew the ending. A cherry on top of a shitcake.
Red Hood lifted his gun, steadied his aim. He could feel how much being here affected him. He had to grip his gun as hard as possible so his hands won't shake. All he could hear was his heart beat alive alive alive, not dead, the way he was barely breathing drowning in the Pit and his fucking words. His. Fucking. Monologue. Fuck. He had to breathe, not loose himself to a flashback.
"The first Boy Blunder had some manners." Robin was coughing on the floor from a hit to the ribs. "I suppose I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps." The clown pause, pretending to think about it. "Nah. I'm just going to keep beating you with this crowbar."
Now or never.
Joker lifted the crowbar, readying a new hit.
A gun shot rang out.
The crowbar fell to the floor next to Robin while Joker cluched his hand. The shot went clean through it, making it impossible to hold anything.
Red Hood showed himself, gun still trained on Joker. Sheila let out a gasp, she quickly got off the table and raised her hands in surrender. Meanwhile, Robin was looking apprehensive, studying the new threat, assessing the situation. Just like Batman taught them.
"Oh, here to join the party? Well, you're not Batsy, so who are you?" The voice of Joker was like sandpaper to his ears. Jason let him take a few steps back.
"I'm Red Hood." Jason turned to the woman. "I have bulletproof armor. If you try anything Sheila, i won't hesitate to kill you." A lie, but she didn't need to know that.
"I guess you're not really a fan despite the name?" The maniac inquired while Hood went towards Robin. The teen looked panicked, squirming to get away and accidentally putting pressure on what Jason knew was at this point a sprained ankle. A pained sound confirmed it.
Red Hood picked up the crowbar and turned to the Joker. "This." He put away his gun and raised the metal weapon. "Is for what you've done to me, and were going to do to him."
Jason let his fury get enhanced by the Pit. He could feel the green rush through his veins, the only thing that had suppressed it for so long having been his fear. But now? Now it was free.
With surgical precision, learned at the League of Assasins, Red Hood unleashed upon his killer what was done to him, with a few more hits to the face. Each hit, each taunt. He made sure to maximize the pain. A hit with the crowbar, being trampled beneath kicks and feet.
Red Hood relished in his screams of pain. "A little louder, lamb chop. I think you may have a collapsed lung, that always impedes the oratory." He didn't have a collapsed lung. Sure, Hood broke a lot of his ribs, but he didn't overdo it. He just wanted to throw the Jokers own words back in his face.
Once he was satisfied, or as close to it as he could get to it, Red Hood gripped his hair and got in his face. "If you ever again, try to harm a Robin. I will come for you, and this will seem like a play date compared to what I'll do." When the Joker just laughed in response, Jason finally knocked him out with a hit to the head. He took a moment to breathe and calm himself down. Fuck.
Fuck.
He let the crowbar fall and put his hand over his helmet, only then realising how much blood he had on his gloves. Shit. He stared at his hands, wondering what to-
His thoughts were interupted by a hit to his head. Years of training kicked in before he could even process what was happening. With his back to the attacker, Red Hood sweeped their feet beneath them, and then quickly turned and pinned them to the ground. Securing both of their wrists with his left hand, the legs with his own and reflexively putting a gun to their head.
Robin's head.
Because Robin had attacked him. His collapsible bo-staff fallen from his grasp being proof of it. Red Hood quickly put the gun away. "Holy shit, kiddo. I almost shot you." He bit back a "Don't do that" because it was smart to do in this situation. An unknown player who proved he was capable of violence let's his guard down, a perfect opportunity.
As Robin stopped trying to break the hold he continued. "You probably would have knocked me out if I didn't have the helmet. That was smart of you."
Wait...
Bo-staff? It wasn't his preferred weapon, he only kept one in his utility belt.
Red Hood quickly looked around the room. Sheila was still I'm the same spot, clearly taking his threat seriously and not moving an inch. The utility belt was somewhat next to her, with a comm- Robin's comm was next to it, clearly working.
Batman heard everything.
Fuck.
Jason was not having a good day.