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Jason’s head is killing him, and the bright artificial lighting isn’t helping. Neither are the voices loudly discussing his fate.
The broken shards of the helmet are cutting into his left cheek. Superman crushed it, leaving a jagged hole around his left eye. At least he has vision this way, with his headgear broken beyond repair and none of the built-in tech working.
His identity is safe so far. They can’t remove the remains of the helmet without frying the one trying or the whole thing exploding. One bruised eye is seemingly not enough for anyone to recognize him.
“We can’t hand him over to Waller as another disposable piece of her Suicide Squad.” Black Canary is staring down her fellow JL members.
“The League doesn’t run prisons and Waller’s project is approved by the government.” Latern’s voice is flat with resignation. Right hand pinching the bridge of his nose.
They stripped away his visible weapons, Superman’s x-ray vision even got most of the hidden ones, but they didn’t get everything. There is a reason most of his gear is lead-lined.
Superman flattens his hands against the table. “It’s not up to us to uphold the law, we should have turned him over to the proper authorities in the first place.”
Jason suppresses a snort.
“Few places are equipped to deal with criminals of Red Hood’s caliber, it’s why we took custody in the first place.” Green Arrow points out.
Jason feels like someone is simultaneously trying to hammer their way out of his skull and drill in through the base of it. His entire body is aching and sore, like he belly-flopped off a smaller building. Body armor or not, he wasn’t prepared to fight a Kryptonian and took one hell of a beating for it.
“Why can’t you just cart me off to Blackgate and be done with it?” Anywhere but Arkham. Jason is confident he can be out within the week. He has things to do, important plans these morons have tried their best to ruin.
Aquaman studies him. “Perhaps-”
“Release the simpleton.” Oh no. God fucking damn it . Robin strides towards the table, cape billowing out behind him with each step. Moving to stand between the League and where Jason is forced to kneel, chained to the floor. The kid is partially blocking their view of him.
“What are you doing here?” Green Arrow demands, looming forward in his seat. Gloved fingers drumming against the table.
As far as they know, Robin doesn’t have access to the Watchtower. Jason wonders when the heroes, hell the world, will learn that nothing is truly Batproof. Especially not if B had a hand in creating it.
“Don’t test my patience.” Damian looks down his nose at them, every bit the spoiled prince he was raised to be for so long.
“Why don’t we get this mock-trial over with so the douches can get back to babysitting?” Jason taunts, smirk audible.
“There will be no trial.” Damian sneers, sending a glare his way and- shit. Domino mask or not, Jason can still read his little brother’s face like an open book. Damian is scared. This is not going to end well.
Red Tornado’s voice is entirely toneless. “Robin, you are not authorized to be here, please leave immediately.”
“Not without the fool behind me.” Damian gestures his way, a stubborn set to the brat’s jaw that normally means someone is about to get stabbed.
“Don’t need to worry about me kid, I’m right where I want to be.” Jason tries for menacing, pulls it off decently. Hopes it gets the message across. Damian knows he is undercover, knows they can’t interact in the masks. What has gotten into the kid?
“Why are you so interested in Hood?” Black Canary is studying them, damn it, Damian hesitates for a split second.
“He is a Gotham criminal.”
“Red Hood has been active around the globe.” Lantern counters. Damian shifts into a battle stance so subtly Jason thinks he’s the only one to catch it.
“It’s classified information.”
“From the League?” Superman’s voice is edging towards mocking and he better rein it in, the squirt carries kryptonite.
“I feel like the pretty girl at prom.” Jason rolls his eyes when Damian’s murderous glare turns his way. Too much exposure, he’s immune. “Why don’t you take it outside before someone marks their territory on the floor?”
Damian turns his nose up in disgust. Canary is still looking between them with a calculating expression Jason really doesn’t care for.
“What is your claim to this criminal?” Aquaman scratches his beard.
“The babybat got lost on his patrol, had to save the half-pint from Scarecrow since he’s technically still a kid. Didn’t have to come all this way to repay the favor.” Jason glares at Damian, just leave. The little shit pretends he can’t read the message loud and clear in Jason’s eye.
“I was informed you plan to incarcerate Hood in Arkham, I can’t allow it.”
Oh Damian. The kid was there when Jason came out of the pit. When the rage, nightmares and PTSD were at their worst. Helped him find a way to live with the pain. A way to wrestle control back from the madness.
Grabbing the brat and running is the best decision Jason’s ever made. He should have done it sooner.
“And why is that?” Superman asks. On behalf of them all, if Jason is reading the room correctly.
“It’s not pertinent for you to know.” Damian states, sounding remarkably confident for someone who doesn’t have a good answer. Well, a similar approach did allow him to keep the cow.
“I disagree,” says Green Arrow.
“Your opinion is of little matter to me.” The brat is still looking down his nose at them. This can’t go on much longer before it all comes crumbling down.
“Robin you can’t demand we deliver a wanted criminal to you without a proper explanation.” Canary tries to reason. Damian isn’t on the Team yet, she doesn’t know him, none of them really do.
“It’s Bat business as Nightwing would put it.” Damian changes his stance minutely, the cape hiding more of his body.
Green Lantern snorts. “The Red Hood is a known murderer, Batsy himself would have to come up with a damn good explanation for us to even consider handing him over.”
“Your input will be taken into consideration,” Superman says, “since you still don’t have clearance to be here, I must ask you to leave.”
“I will not be treated like an imbecile.” Damian sneers, bristling.
“Kid you-”
“Put the bloody knife down.” Jason orders before Damian can lunge at Green Lantern. The kid turns fully towards him, face a perfectly blank mask that betrays everything to those who know Damian well.
“They can’t toss you in with that wretched clown.”
“It’s fine,” Jason mutters, desperately trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Even if they did, I will be okay.”
“I would rather slay that perversion of a man where he stands than let him near you.”
Jason can’t fight his smile, warmth blooming in his chest. “As much as I appreciate it, we have a deal, you leave the killing to me.”
“You two know each other?” Superman interrupts before Damian gets a chance to answer. Both of them turn their glares his way.
“That should be obvious, even to one of your intellect.”
Jason considers how much of his cover can be salvaged and finds his headache worsening. His true identity and relation to the Bats might be the only secrets worth keeping at this point.
“Congratulations demon brat you get to explain this mess to Red, ‘cause I’m not taking the fall.”
Damian stiffens, hand going back to his knife. “I don’t fear him.”
“That would make you extremely stupid." Jason turns towards the assembled JL members, getting their undivided attention when his shackles hit the floor.
He stands, ignoring the protest of his aching muscles. Jason fixes each member of the League with a glare before he speaks.
“You guys better hope my cover can be salvaged or you’re going to find out firsthand how vindictive Red Robin can be.”
Black Canary is the first to shake her wariness, leaning forward in her chair. “So who are you?”
“Undercover operative of the Bats, that’s all you need to know.”
“You’re still a murderer.” Superman is frowning and Jason rolls his eyes, making the gesture as obvious as he can.
“I take out murderers, rapists, and traffickers. The world is a better place without them and the blood on my hands is the only reason I’ve been able to get this far.”
“There is no excuse for the taking of a life.” Red Tornado still sounds every bit the robot he is. Damian huffs and presses up against Jason’s side. Neither of them draws attention to the newcomer hiding in the shadows.
“Tell that to the victims.” Jason puts a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Someone has to do the dirty work this time, it's the only way to save our collective asses and I’m the best bet for it.”
“We can’t let you go,” Superman says, to the evident surprise of some of the other heroes. Jason shrugs and grabs a firmer hold on the kid’s cape.
“You got nowhere that can hold me for long, but sure, helps keep the cover intact.”
“Robin seems to think Arkham Asylum would do the trick.”
Jason freezes, feels Damian do the same next to him. He wants to smack the smugness off Superman's face. Maybe shove a shard of Kryptonite up next to that giant stick.
He's not going to get stuck in that corrupt cesspit. No way. No drugs. No padded rooms. No laughter. They are not putting him in a straightjacket anywhere near the clown -trapped. Forced to listen to the maniac day in and day out-
Jason can’t breathe. His head is pounding, each pulse of agony filling his vision with poisonous green. That haunting laughter. His mouth tastes of blood. Blood and ash, dirt, mud…
Everything hurts.
Forehand or backhand?
Jason can’t move, can’t breathe. It's so dark.
A or b?
Splinters biting into his fingers, getting under his nails. Everything is slick with blood.
Poisonous green all around him, filling up his mouth, his throat, his lungs. It’s agony.
What hurts more?
Mud hitting his face. He can feel the grains on cracked lips. The taste of dirt and blood. Lungs burning and everything blurry.
Jason has to get there, has to make it. Each movement whitens his vision. Tears and blood dripping onto the floor. It’s so hard to breathe past the pain. He has to save her.
Choking on mud.
Vision blackening around the edges, every part of him screaming out in agony. Each breath rattling and wet. The timer hits one-
“Come back. It’s over. You're safe. I’m here. Please come back.” Damian whispers into his ear, curled around Jason’s torso like an overgrown koala. Legs wrapped around his waist. Arms around Jason’s neck. Damian’s head pressed to Jason’s shoulder as he clings.
Jason slowly brings his arms up around his little brother, trying to match the kid’s breathing, still seeing the world through a veil of green. The League is up and battle ready, focused on the man standing between them and Jason.
Even Nightwing’s back radiates fury.
“He’s not going anywhere near Arkham, not while I’m still breathing.” Dick’s voice has never sounded that cold before, escrima sticks crackling with electricity.
“Dick-” Canary tries, only to fall silent when his glare narrows in on her.
“I don’t care if Hood slaughtered half the planet. If you have to build a new prison just for him. He stays away from the fucking clown!”
Black Canary's face softens with understanding, but Jason doubts she has reached the right conclusion. ‘Back from the dead’ doesn’t cross most people's minds for good reason. He rubs circles into Damian’s back.
“I’m here babybat, I’m right here with you.”
Superman is holding his hands up, palms showing. “We know you have history with the Jok-”
“Shut the hell up.” Dick snaps.
Jason doesn’t sense his sister coming until Cass puts a gentle hand on his arm. “No Arkham, never Arkham.” Her tone is pure steel.
“Black Bat.” Everybody is staring between her and Dick. Jason is not surprised, even people with super senses don't notice her coming. Cass is just that good. She gives his arm a soft squeeze, holding her wrist out in front of her. A holoscreen springs to life from her gauntlet.
“Just fantastic. You not only managed to jeopardize five months’ worth of highly dangerous undercover work. You’re also toeing the line of making all the Bats your enemies. Really, great work.” Tim sounds exhausted, sarcasm practically dripping from his words. But it’s the chipper undertone that has all his siblings tense up. The last time Jason heard anything like it, his entire literature collection somehow ended up on the bloody moon.
“So either you let Hood go, keep your mouths shut and let the grown-ups figure it out, or O and I are going to ruin your lives.” Tim is wearing a truly wicked grin. “Imagine no hackable piece of technology ever working for you again. O can get into anything and that’s just what she will do.”
“There is also the damage I can inflict with the right motivation.” Steph leans against Tim’s shoulder, a predatory gleam to her eyes.
“And don’t count on Batman to rein us in when he’s back planetside, he might be your worst problem yet.” Right now Tim’s scarier than any supervillain. Fingers intertwined as he stares down the assembled League members, daring them to give him a single excuse to take them apart.
Jason rests his head gently against Damian’s, struggling to hold back the tears.
It takes nearly ten seconds for Green Arrow to speak.
“Take him and get out of here.” The rest nod their agreement, all but Superman, who looks like he bit into a lemon.
The movie is still playing in the background, the volume lowered to a low hum a while ago. Tim wanted Star Wars, Dick lobbying for a Disney marathon. Jason got Steph and Damian to back him on Spirit, the horse that couldn’t be tamed. Currently, Tulio and Miguel are making fools of themselves in the road to El Dorado.
Jason is the only one still awake to watch it, surrounded by his sleeping siblings on the giant couch. Damian is out cold, molded to Jason’s right side. Tim is tucked under Jason’s other arm, falling asleep ten minutes into the first movie. Cass has curled herself around Tim, head resting against Jason’s arm. Her breaths are even puffs of warm air against his skin. It’s calming.
Steph is using the lot of them as a bony bed, stretched out across their laps. Purple blanket entangled in her legs, one hand gripping the bottom of Jason’s shirt. Dick has one arm around Damian and the other around Babara’s waist where she is leaning against him. Her glasses are slightly askew.
The remains of the snacks are spread out on the table. Only crumbs are left on the plate from Alfred’s cookies. The butler even let them order pizza and eat it in the den. Jason’s going to make sure everybody helps clean up tomorrow.
Titus is sleeping under the coffee table. The cat purring away in Damian’s arms, leaning into the fingers Jason is scratching against his neck. The fur is soft against his fingertips.
Jason feels grounded like rarely before, the warmth and weight of the others keeping him present in the moment. Steph is snoring softly, Tim mumbling about something in his sleep, it might be about one of his crazy continuities. Jason’s not sure what the connection between ostriches, rollerblades and birthday cake could be.
The fools on screen win a game with the help of an armadillo.
They threatened the Justice League without batting an eye. Jason can’t help but smile, heart filled with love. His family is insane, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.