Overprotective Part Four (Jason Todd Fanfic)

Overprotective Part Four (Jason Todd Fanfic)

Words: 2,874      

Note: Lots of more people in this one. Ruby is seventeen.

It was a mission that her father had forbidden her from going on, but it was a demand she chose to ignore. Teenage rebellion, she supposed with a smirk. As wisps of auburn hair whirled around her face in the cool, salty wind, her eyes tracked the moving criminals. The lead that she had read on her Uncle Tim’s computer told her that the thugs she was watching were working for Two-Face, a villain she particularly despised. When she heard the activity going on in Old Gotham, she proposed going out to fix the problem herself, to which her father and Damian both dismissed her proposition, instead instructing her to stay at home. Ruby chose to simply ignore both their commands.

Grappling from edge to edge of buildings, Ruby stayed on the heels of the thugs. They drove two vans and one truck, with ten men in total. Dent wasn’t even in attendance. Ruby couldn’t think of an easier mission then this as she ran across the edge of the clock tower. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say to her father when she returned home from the mission with new leads, and the thugs suddenly off the radar, but she had no time to ponder such things. She noted that the vehicles were headed to Brown Bridge- out of Gotham. She had to stop them before they left the city.

Reaching to the left side of her utility belt, she pulled out a gadget she had seen her Uncle Damian use when the two worked together. She loaded it three times and took aim at the truck. The plate that she had loaded it with magnetized to the hood of the truck, and with a flash of yellow light, it had drained the car’s battery. She aimed at one van and did the same until all three cars were stopped. Slowly, and with a commotion, men began to unloaded from the cars. Now was her chance.

Damian had always taught her to start at the back of the group and pick the ones not paying attention off first. Once the others take notice of the disappearing teammates, grapple back up to a building, and take as many as you can out with batarangs or a taser, which her father had granted her use of. As she worked through the steps, picking men off one by one, she let out a laugh.

“Oh shit,” one man exclaimed, “it’s Robin.” Ruby laughed again, prideful, and eager to show off to her family about the work she had completed. Taking the last three men out by hand was hard, Ruby was still quite small. She took a few hits and kicks, but she learned quickly to shake it off and keep fighting. Eventually, she had taken all the thugs out, standing in the middle of unconscious bodies while panting heavily. What was so hard about that, Dad? If only he could have seen her, maybe he would have been proud. Ruby knew that he was more than likely going to bench her for sneaking out, and if he didn’t, Damian would.

Once she had her breathing back under control, she began to unlatch the door on the first van. Slamming the doors open, she peered in to see an empty car, with no equipment. Ruby shrugged, moving on to the next car. The second van also had no equipment or anything of importance stored in it. Ruby raised an eyebrow. Strange, she thought, everything was in the truck? Approaching the truck she pulled up her hood and situated her gadget back into her belt. Unlatching the back of the truck with a loud clanking sound, the door was shoved open from the inside.

Ruby felt the air knocked out of her lungs as she was kicked back, landing on the hard ground with a thud. Struggling to breathe for a moment, she peered up, adjusting her domino mask. Ruby had been sure he wasn’t there when she read over the leads or counted the thugs when she first arrived at the scene, but as Dent stared down at her with crazed eyes, she realized how wrong she was. She wasn’t prepared to fight Two-Face by herself, or the two abnormally large thugs that stepped out of the truck after him.

“I was wondering if you were going to catch us before we got to the border,” Harvey spoke, his voice gravelly. Ruby groaned, rolling her head back.

“Y’know, for an old man, you got a mean kick,” she said, thumping a hand against her chest. She kept her eyes on him as she stood back up. “But is that still the best you can do?” She was aware that she was pushing buttons when she wasn’t supposed to be- this wasn’t a fight for her. She’d be lucky if she walked out alive. Two-Face shook his head, reaching behind the tail of his jacket to pull out his silver and black gun. The two thugs held large guns themselves, Ruby wasn’t sure what kind, but she knew that one gun could take her out with one bullet.

Two-Face let out a sigh, beginning to load the gun. Ruby scanned over him, his black coat was the same one he had been wearing since he first began his crusade as a notorious Gotham maniac. His hair had gone gray on the normal side of his body, but the hair on the burnt and mangled side remained stark white. It was an odd contrast. Harvey loaded the gun, moving towards Ruby, stopping in front of her stomping his foot slightly and clicking his tongue. He reached a long finger into his pocket and pulled out the coin Ruby was unfortunately familiar with.

“Last time we met, the odds were in your favor, and you got away,” he remarked. The ‘last time’ Ruby had been with Red Arrow, her best friend Lian, and they narrowly escaped without a bullet in each of their bodies. The main difference this time was that Ruby was alone, and how often are the odds twice in your favor? “Maybe I can catch a Robin by her toe this time,” Dent said. Ruby scoffed, though she felt her heart begin to pound. She had taken her tracker off before she had left, as to not be followed, but that meant there was no longer communication between her and the other Bats. Dent clicked the gun once and held it up at eye level to Ruby. “Heads, I kill you. Tails, you get to leave. Deal?”

Ruby was about to respond but bit her tongue as a mass of shadow slid down behind the two thugs, effectively taking them out in silence, going unnoticed by the man who still held the gun to Robin’s head. Elegantly, Dent flipped the coin into the air but was rather quickly distracted by the massive hand the grabbed the barrel of the gun, bending the metal with ease. The clink of the coin on the pavement snapped Ruby out of shock, and she ducked out of the way, retreating into the shadows as she watched Dent be taken down with ease by Bizarro.

Ruby sank further into the shadows, an attempt to disappear, but was taken off guard when a hand firmly grabbed her shoulder yanking her back out into the light. Red hair that cascaded down past her broad shoulders was the first thing that Ruby saw. Then the angry face of her mother. Artemis, though not Ruby’s birth mother, had taken up the title of mom when Ruby was just a little girl. The Amazon had been hesitant at first, but her love for Jason, and eventually Ruby, was stronger than the feeling of fear. And Amazons laugh at the face of fear. Ruby haunched back a bit.

“What are you doing?”  Artemis was practically seething in anger. Her green eyes, which were usually gentle when directed at Ruby, were hard and concerned. If her mother was this angry, then Ruby could only guess how angry her father was.

“Red Him angry at Baby Red,” Bizarro chimed in, his voice booming from where he stood over the thugs, and a chained Two-Face. “Very angry,” he added for emphasis. Ruby flinched, the pride she felt having washed away almost completely and replaced by regret.

Artemis grabbed her daughter by the hood of her costume, beginning to walk her to the car, wherein, Ruby was crammed against Bizarro. Artemis sped home, Two-Face had been tossed in the trunk. A quick stop to Arkham Asylum and Dent was no longer the problem at hand for Ruby- it was facing her father’s wrath. Ruby slowly slumped down into her seat as her mother ranted from the driver's seat. When they arrived home, the teen nearly refused to exit the car and enter the home. Regret had completely swallowed up her pride by the time she was slinking through the doorway of the apartment, and into the living room where Jason lounged on the couch.

“Two-Face is in Arkham now,” Artemis informed her husband, to which he nodded in response. There was a moment of complete silence in which Ruby waited for her father to say something to her, and in that time, her mother had disappeared from the room leaving the two alone. Ruby remained in the doorway until Jason motioned her over to the couch. Hesitantly, Ruby moved to sit beside him. Lowering her hood and removing her mask she waited for him to speak first, which took a painful amount of time. She knew that he was waiting on purpose- he wanted her to feel guilty, and that she did. It was his form of punishment, she supposed. It was working.

Jason ran a hand over his face, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks and jaw. His hair was standing up in all directions- he had been pulling at it more than likely, as he did when he was anxious or frustrated.

“I have been trying to think about what to say to you since I realized you had snuck off,” Jason began, his voice hard and annoyed. “But, I don’t know exactly what to say to make you realize why what you did was...wrong,” he paused again, Ruby said nothing. “So, I figured now is a good time to tell you something I have been needing to share with you. I wanted to tell you the day you became Robin, but I didn’t know if that would have done anything to sway your decision. I didn’t want to scare you, I guess,” his voice remained stiff, but there was more emotion than just annoyance as he continued.

“What?” Ruby asked, a little shocked that he wasn’t yelling at her. His reaction was far from the one she was expecting the ride home.

“When I was two years younger then you are now- fifteen- I was Robin. I had been Robin at that point for a few years, so I thought I knew what I was doing, I was far too confident and arrogant. Prideful. I didn’t listen to adults- Bruce, Alfred, Dick. Whatever, I just thought I knew better than them. I was the all-powerful Robin, nothing could hurt me, right?” Jason, once again, ran a hand over his face, his eyes focused on the ground. “I got over-confident one day and thought I could take something into my own hands, no help from anybody else. Just me. I ran off, like you did, and took on something I couldn’t handle. It turned out to be something that I wasn’t equipped to deal with on my own, someone I couldn’t deal with on my own.”

“Who?” Ruby questioned softly, her eyes staring intently at her father. Jason huffed.

“It doesn’t matter now, Ruby. But-” Jason seemed to struggle for words, something that Ruby wasn’t used to seeing. Jason was fairly well-spoken. “I died.” The room went deafeningly quiet. Ruby questioned if she heard him correctly. How could he have died? He was right in front of her, breathing, and had a beating heart. Had he gone mad since she left? “I had been killed by a bad guy. I was dead for months before Talia Al Ghul tossed me in the Lazarus Pit, and brought me back. I went through hell because I got too cocky, Ruby. My life was altered completely because I didn’t listen.”

Ruby said nothing, as she did not know what to say in response to what her father was telling her. How could that possibly be true? But why would he make up a lie like that? Ruby shook her head, mimicking Jason’s actions of running a hand over her face, and through her hair.

“A-are you making this up? Cause this sounds pretty made up. You died? That isn’t possible!” Ruby stood from the couch, adding a certain emphasis to her words. Jason watched her patiently. He couldn’t even count how many times he has told someone about his death, but none were so imminent as telling his child. Jason bit the side of his middle finger.

“I wish I was making it up Rue, but I am not. So you can imagine why I am telling you this.” Truthfully, and horrifyingly, it did not seem to Ruby that he was lying. She had so many questions if it was true. “Ruby, I can’t let anything like what happened to me, happen to you. But when you do stuff like this, that becomes hard, and frankly, it gives me a heart attack,” he chuckled breathlessly at the last part. He wasn’t laughing, he was nervous. Ruby opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to think of what to say, or how to phrase it.

“But y-you’re here? How? I don’t-” she struggled, her voice fading out and words trailing off. Jason’s mouth was pulled in a tight line, something he did when he was bothered by something.

“It doesn’t matter that I came back, it matters that I died in the first place. Me coming back was a one in a million chance, not everyone gets so lucky,” Jason said, standing up from the couch himself. “I am telling you this so you don’t make the same mistake I did.”

“You have to tell me more than what you are! Who ki-...who did it?” Ruby found herself not being comfortable saying ‘killed’ out loud.

“Ruby,” Jason started.

“Why won’t you tell me?” she hissed. Jason rolled his head back in annoyance. He knew how she would react to his answer- he never planned on getting that specific, but he also didn’t plan on raising such a stubborn daughter. He couldn’t withhold that information, he felt as if he was lying to her, and he didn’t want to do that. As he paused, his grey eyes searching her shockingly blue ones, he felt a rise in his anxiety. Once he told her, she’d stop at nothing to get justice for him. She was overprotective of him like that. Jason crossed his arms with a huff.

“Because, if I tell you, you’ll only put yourself in more danger for me,” he reasoned. She barked out a forced laugh.

“Tell me, or I will find out myself,” she demanded. She knew she had no right to demand things from him, especially after her previous actions, but she needed to know. This wasn’t something she could so easily brush off and forget about. Jason glared, but Ruby held her ground. As she always did.

“The Joker,” he finally answered.

It had been years since the Joker had been imprisoned. There were constant eyes on the clown since, but when Batman, more specifically Bruce Wayne, retired for years, the Joker disappeared. The inseparable duo, Jason thought grimly. Jason watched Ruby’s expression contort from one of distress to one of pure rage. Her ability to change moods was similar to Jason in a remarkable way. The temper she had was nearly unadulterated, despite Jason’s attempts to teach her to control it. She was too much like him to learn otherwise. At the age of seventeen, it seemed she almost did not want to. Her eyes turned hard, unblinking, and it looked as if she stopped breathing. Almost a mirrored image of Jason. Her nose scrunched up slightly in a sort of snarl, and her jaw clenched so hard it looked almost painful like she’d crack a tooth if she clenched any harder. Jason stepped forward in her direction, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

“Don’t get angry, I don’t need you to,” he spoke, it was a demand, but a soft one.

“I’m not angry for you, I am just angry,” she corrected.

“He’s in prison, he’s not getting out,”

“I am not just angry at him,” she said in a cold tone. “I know why you hate Bruce now, at least.”

Jason cocked his head to the side. ‘Hate’ was a strong word. He never hated Bruce, he couldn’t. Ruby seemed to misunderstand that.

“Ruby, I do not hate Bruce,” Jason said, his thumb swiping across her cheek to catch the tear that had fallen. Ruby huffed.

“Well, I think I do.”

Master List:

Updated on 1.24.19

Some of these are from my other blog @jasxontxdd

Jason Todd:

- Overprotective (2) (3) (4) (Dad!Jason)

- Meeting Jason Todd (Jason x Reader)

- Babybird (2) (Batmom)

-I Got You (Jayroy)

Dick Grayson:

- The Mask  (Dick x Reader)

Tim Drake:

- 1 AM  (Tim Drake x Reader)

Damian Wayne:

- A Little Company (Batmom)

LOVED THE STORY THAT YOU WROTE WITH JASON. 🤣❤❤❤❤

Thank you!! (Idk which one you mean but, i still greatly appreciate it :)

color headers~♡

like/reblog if you save

The Mask (Dick Grayson x Reader)

Prompt: “Wanna hang out on the rooftop? It’s nice tonight.”

Requested: Yes

At midnight you laid on the couch in your apartment, the light from the television illuminating the otherwise dark room. It seemed like Saturday took forever to arrive, and now that it was upon you, you were celebrating by not sleeping. Watching a show you had already seen before in its entirety, and eating a half empty tub of ice cream seemed, also, like a good idea.

Mentally, you kept denying it, but you weren’t up to see if dying of sleep deprivation could actually happen to you, you were awake and waiting for him. ‘Him’ being a certain vigilante who had been dropping by your apartment for a month and a half, knocking on the window by the fire escape, and spending hours with you until he was called away to finish his nightly work as a hero of Blüdhaven. You never asked his real name or begged to see his face, only hoped one day he would be comfortable enough to show you who he was. For now, you called him Nightwing.

Sure enough, there came a tap on the glass, bringing you away from the television, and over to the window. Undoing the latch, you pushed up the wooden frame, coming face to face with your beloved crimefighter.

“Hey,” you said in a breathy voice, taking in the rush of cool, salty air, “right on time.”

“I pride myself on my punctuality,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face. There was a pause in the conversation as the two you stared at one another, though his mask obscured the view of his eyes there was still so much to take in about him. The sharpness of his jaw, full lips, a curved nose, and of course, the famous Nightwing suit. One that every one of Gotham and Blüdhaven was familiar with. “Wanna hang out on the rooftop? It’s nice tonight.” He said motioning towards the top of the apartment complex. With a smile, you nodded your head, taking his extended hand as he assisted you onto the fire escape.

The two of you sat perched on the edge of the building, overlooking the neighborhood. The whistle of the soft breeze between buildings soothing away any stress the day might have brought. No words were exchanged between either of you, mutually choosing to quietly enjoy the nice weather that was so rare in Blüdhaven. It must have been at least ten minutes of silence before Nightwing spoke.

“This is why I like Blüdhaven more than Gotham,” he said, his voice soft and calm, “Not that I have anything against Gotham, I practically grew up there, but here it’s just,” a pause of thought, “different.” You hummed in agreement.

“You grew up in Gotham?” You asked after a bit, curiosity laced in the tone of your voice. Nightwing turned his head towards you, seemingly surprised you caught that part of what he said.

“Uh, yeah, pretty much.” He confirmed, nodding his head. There were a few bits of information about him you clung to. He referred to Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood as his brothers. He also talked briefly about the Batgirls that wander around Gotham as well. There had been mention of teammates outside of the ones in Gotham, but secret identities were important to these people, so you didn’t push. You were afraid you’d ask too much one day, resulting in Nightwing never coming back to visit you.

Still, you wondered who it was under the mask. What his name, his real name, was. What he did when he wasn’t doing his job as a vigilante. He knew so much about you- your name, what you did for a living, where you lived.

“I know so little about you,” You didn’t mean to say it out loud, or maybe you did, either way, Nightwing heard your remark, and dropped his head a bit, a huff leaving his mouth.

“My father might kill me,” he said, his voice sounded a little defeated, or tired. Carefully he reached up to his mask, pulling the blue and black cover away from his face. With nothing to obscure the view of his face, blue eyes now visible to you, he was now entirely familiar.

You had seen his face before. You had thought it even when the mask was still on, that the man in front of you looked eerily similar to someone you’ve already seen.

Nightwing looked back at you, waiting for some response, but instead, you continued to gaze at him, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“I have seen you before,” you said, turning on the edge of the building to face him better. He moved as well, making it so you could see his face completely.

“Gotham Times loves writing about my brothers and my father,” he said, rolling his eyes, “myself included.”

Gotham Times. Where would he have a slot? There was the sports section, the charity sections, ads, the political section took up half the issue, business section, celebrity section- oh.

You definitely knew who the man sitting in front of you was. He was right, a picture of him usually accompanied one of Bruce Wayne. He had been in a spotlight in Gotham since he was a little kid.

“Wait, you’re-” you were going to blurt out what you had pieced together when he cut you off.

“It’s a nice night, windows are open, people can hear,” he said, a finger to his lips, telling you to quiet down. Nodding, you grabbed his hand, pulling him up from the ledge and back down the fire escape to your apartment. Once both inside, you slammed the window shut and turned to him.

“Richard Grayson,” you sighed out, a smile plastered on your face. He nodded.

“My friends call me Dick,” he replied, you raised an eyebrow, “seriously,” he let out a soft laugh. The light from the television still was the only source of light in the room, illuminating one side of Dick’s face. He looked as if he was still waiting for you to say something. You frankly didn’t know what to say;

'Thanks for telling me who you are?’

'You’re beautiful?’

'Does this mean all the Wayne Family are superheroes?’

The latter of which you felt you knew the answer to deep down.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, subconsciously taking a few steps toward him, “for taking off the mask. Now that I see you without it, I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.” Dick smirked, looking down at the mask he held in his hand.

“It’s not as unbelievable as you think,” he whispered. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what he had said, but standing so close to him you could hear even the shallowest of breaths. His eyes slowly came up to meet yours, the blue color of his eyes seemed magnified in the lighting of the room. It took a moment to build up the courage, but after, you held your breath and leaned forward, your mouth coming to meet his. His skin was still cold from sitting on the rooftop, but it felt nice against your warming skin. The kiss was soft and quick, the two of you leaning back ever so slightly to meet eyes again. A look that said, 'Should we do that again?’, which was answered by the sound of the mask he had been holding hitting the hardwood of the floor, and his arms coming around your waist to pull you closer. The kisses that followed were much longer, though still soft, and exactly what you wanted it to be, and what he needed it to be.

Babybird Part Two (Batmom Reader)

Momma is home and she is angry. Reader’s superhero name in Whitehawk. Enjoy. I love feedback.

There was a drastic change in the winds from the desert to Gotham city- the most notable being that Gotham’s wind was bitter and tasted of salt, and the winds of the desert were hot and dusty. You found that you didn’t particularly care for either as you hid your face in the high collar of the thick winter coat you had slipped on. Unfortunately, there were many places you would rather be than the city or the desert for that matter, but Gotham was where duty called- where your emotions told you to go, and with the loss of your son so fresh, you couldn’t bear to ignore how you felt.

Despite it being well past midnight, there were still handfuls of people pushing their way between others, weaving in between cars and buildings, and hailing taxis. Though the sheer amount of people walking far too slow was insufferable, you were grateful that the crowds of people gave you something to blend into. Something to hide in. As you shuffled amongst the groups of Gothamites, you were simply a citizen, not someone who was supposed to protect the masses.

You slipped into the bar you had been searching for, immediately bright neon green and blue lights leaked into your vision, giving you pause. When the interior of the bar became visible to you, the search for the man that brought you there in the first place began. Pushing past the drunks, half-naked women and men, and waiters, there was suddenly a pull on your hips, to which you quickly glanced down, ready to slap a hand away, but it was merely a red velvet rope. You had reached the back of the bar. A shout came from the left of you, capturing your attention rather rudely- but what else could you expect from a place like the one you found yourself in.

The man who had yelled stood well over six foot, and his suit hugged tightly to his broad shoulders, the sleek pistol in his pocket glistened in the dim lights of the room. Surely, most would be intimidated by a man such as that, but you found his presences merely an annoyance. A dog sent to retrieve you? You scoffed but had no choice but to trail after the man, heels stomping on the ground loudly.

The guard came to a stop in front of dark green curtains that concealed the meeting room, refusing to enter, much to your satisfaction. Shoving aside the material, your nose scrunched up at the smell of cigars. A burning sensation that left your eyes watering slightly, and throat covered in a dissatisfying taste. The man, short and pale, sat slouched in his extravagant chair, embroidered with lavish looking jewels, and lace. It was a shame that such a lovely piece of furniture was in the hands of such a vile man.

“Such a rarity,” the Penguin squeaked, “that a Bird comes willingly into my cage.” Indeed it was, you supposed, but you were desperate. “It is bold, my girl,” he said in a groan. You weren’t fond of being mocked, but there was no time, and this was no place, to mouth off with the indignant man. You took a seat in a much more dull chair beside him, elbows placed on the table with your chin in your palm.

“I will transfer the money, and you give me the information, that was the deal, correct?” you said, wanting to get out of the wretched bar as soon as you could, even if that meant skipping over the details. Cobblepot hummed, inhaling through the cigar he held between his red-stained fingers.

Before you had thought of entering the bar in the first place, you had sent a letter, proposing the money for the information you desired. Weeks later, you received a letter in return- he had accepted if you agreed to meet with him. And there you sat, a frown gracing your lips.

“To the point? Well, do you not know any better?” he said, leaning back. You did, but you had to move fast before the information went stale.

“Actually I do, so if I were you, I’d be careful,” you said hotly. You were in a hurry, not stupid. Smarter than the man you sat next to, but not to underestimate him either- he was anything but an idiot. The man laughed bitterly.

“The money?” he inquired, an eyebrow raised. You rolled your eyes, rummaging through the coat pocket for your phone, where you then confirmed the transfer. You showed the old man the information quickly, before shoving the phone back into its previous place. Penguin nodded quietly.

You waited for him to speak, a hand clenching the wooden side of the table. More smoke poured from his mouth, the smell harsh.

“The Blackbrick factory filled to the brim with his...goons. Maybe the blonde was there with him, I don’t frankly care. He looked mad as ever, stupid as well. No idea what the fool was up to, but it seems to me that you don’t care about that. What do you care so much about?” Penguin said, a dark eyebrow raised. He was crossing a line, and beyond that line were things you didn’t wish to discuss- especially with Oswald. When no further words were exchanged, he continued. “Who knows when he will move again if he even will. But the man is erratic, and the Big Bat seems- lazy. As of late. Good for me, not for you. And whatever you are planning on doing tonight, I sincerely hope it ends with the Joker disappearing for good.” And with that, you began the trek to Blackbrick factory.

It was hard to see from your vantage point in the rafters of the factory, but it would have to make due. There was a surprising lack of hiding places to take cover in the building and an absurd amount of thugs that wore masks similar to the clown himself. Cocky, you thought, he had done no such thing before you had left the city. Apparently Batman’s lack of attention as of late upset Joker.

The man, face painted white, marched across his makeshift stage, above the mass of thugs. He was wailing about something hysterically, none of which you could hear, and you didn’t particularly want to. His voice brought a growl out from the back of your throat. Harley stood behind him, her finger twirling in a blonde curl, a laugh of her own echoing off the stone walls. You stared intently at the two, like an animal hunting its prey. But your attention was quickly brought upward, to the opposite end of the room from where you were, on a separate vantage point.

Yellow, green, and red. Those were the colors that you saw that were so incredibly familiar, and painful. For what felt like an unreasonable amount of time, you couldn’t breathe. The air refusing to come out of your lungs, distracting you from the burning at your eyes. A pounding feeling at your chest and weak muscles came over you and weren’t sure if it was from the lack of oxygen or the feeling of utter despair. It couldn’t be. He was gone.

The colors moved in flashes as the small figure swung about the room. Closer and closer to you until he rammed directly into you, distracted by the thugs that were becoming rowdy, and excited by the words of the Joker. Before you could think about what you were doing, you grabbed the person roughly and proceeded to grapple back out of the factory- forgetting about what you had gone there to do. The child, you guessed from the sound of his voice, struggled against you, and eventually wiggled out of your hold, but you were already on the roof, away from the thugs.

You stared at him, eyes scanning over his suit- his Robin suit. He was small, but not as small as Dick and your son had been. It wasn’t hard to be larger than Jason, anyway, the boy had been malnourished his whole life.  He was older, maybe thirteen. Fourteen. The usual Robin age. As you stared at him, and he stared back wordlessly, your blood began to boil all over again. Not at the boy, but at the man you knew was responsible for him. Another one? Another child brought into the fight? Had he learned absolutely nothing? You wanted to scream but that would have brought unwanted attention. You had been so involved in your own thoughts you barely heard the words Robin spoke to you.

“A-are you, Whitehawk?” he said, voice unsteady. You relaxed the stare when you realized he was scared. You nodded. You wore your old suit that had been used back in the days of fighting alongside Batman. It had long since been retired, as you gave up crimefighting a year before you met Jason. The occasion called for a proper suit, however. But now you figured you weren’t going to get to use it. The boy's eyes visibly widened under his mask.

“Wait, you’re back? When did you get home?” he spoke to you as if he knew you. Naive. Bold. Young. You decided to humor the boy.

“A few hours ago, but I am not staying,” you said, and he frowned. He sat on the corner of the roof, peering through a broken window as to not lose track of the Joker.

“That sucks. We could use help here, with Batgirl and all,” he said, trailing off. You cocked your head to the side.

“What about Batgirl?” You inquired.

“Can’t be Batgirl in a wheelchair. She is Oracle though, and that’s cool.” Robin said. For the second time that night, the air got caught in your throat.

“What?” You choked out, hands balled into fists. Things only get worse in Gotham, you thought grimly. Robin glanced up at you, now his confusion mirroring yours.

“You don’t know? Nobody told you?” he questioned, sounding perplexed.

“Know what, Robin?” you said, voice cracking. He paused, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand.

“Joker shot her,” he spoke quietly, and you felt tears slip down your cheeks, under your mask. “He paralyzed her.” For a moment you felt guilty, but for what? Leaving Gotham without taking the kids with you? They would never willingly leave, they have a fascination with the city that you don’t share. A connection. You only harbor hatred for the grim place. The anger which you had felt all night somehow managed to get hotter. You knew coming back was a mistake, but it was too late to leave. Another child as Robin, Barbara paralyzed, and the Joker still breathing. You were stuck in Gotham now.

You had previously had second thoughts about offing the Joker, but you felt clear certainty now. You would choke the life out of him with your bare hands if you had to, and if anyone tried to stop you, they would regret it.

“Go home, Robin. I’ll take care of the factory.” You demanded, picking yourself up off of the cold roofing. Robin stood up as well.

“I don’t know, Boss said I need to be here,” he said, his voice unsure. You moved to where he stood, shoving him back slightly, away from the edge.

“Go, now. If it was so important he would be here.” You growled, readying your grapple again, finger on the trigger. But before you could pull it back, your shoulder was roughly yanked back, pulling you away from the edge roughly. You angerly steadied yourself, hurriedly pulling a throwing knife out of your utility belt. The black mass that stood in front of you, leering over, frowned at you. Robin stood behind him, cowering down slightly.

“I am here, (Y/N),” Batman spoke harshly. He was using his intimidation voice, which annoyed you to no end. You tightened your grip on the knife.

“Not the fight I was expecting,” you spoke slyly, “but I’ll take it.”