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New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl | COMPLETED
Barbara’s lips parted more from surprise rather than preparing for speech. The comment resonated far more than she was comfortable with. Shocked and slightly bewildered, she stared at him, but before she could retort, the Hood was up and flying across the street. Shaking her head, hands planted firmly on each hip, she cursed him under her breath. Lips pursed together, Barbara turned back, gathering the discarded food containers, throwing them in a trash receptacle as she took the fire escape down the side of the building. Not flashy, but after tonight she needed the break.
The walk back to her bike was uneventful and quiet, but her mind kept wandering to places she didn’t want it to go. Muscles ached, feet screamed. An hour ago she was ready to call the evening a wash – now, she wasn’t so sure. The one thing she was certain of, however, was she wasn’t going to tell anyone about tonight. Barbara was too embarrassed, too confused to even try to piece together the events of the evening. Plus, who’d even believe her?
Reaching her apartment just in time to see the sun awaken from it’s nightly slumber, Barbara hit her bed without much thought other than rest. And after the night she had, she needed it.
[COMPLETED]
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
Barbara didn’t alter her gaze when The Hood came to sit beside her, still staring straight up. She didn’t want him to know she was more than a little intimidated by him or confused or any of the other plethora of emotions that were probably plastered on her face. The Red Hood Gang sounded vaguely familiar, her father probably spoke of them when she was a child, but Gotham was overrun with gang activity, even back then.
This conversation was too humanizing. This Hood was supposed to be some violent killing machine, not someone she could have ever pictured as being small and helpless. Let alone a victim. Assumptions, Barbara, make an ass out of everyone. Wasn’t that how the saying went?
“Why are you telling me all this?”
He sat in silence for a long moment, letting the question hang in the air. Then;
“Because behind every mask is a broken kid who wanted to reshape the world to fix their pain.”
With that, he was up and standing, one foot up on the raised edge of brick and mortar. Drawing his grappler from its holster on his belt, he aimed it across Lyons Avenue and fired. He looked back at Batgirl as the cable flew through the air.
“See ya around, Batsie.”
And then he was gone.
Ten minutes later he was seated on his bike, engine rumbling as he crossed the Narrows Bridge back to the Complex. He’d have time to overthink making a new…friend? Uneasy ally? Enemy? Later. For now, it was almost dawn, and the pinks and oranges of first light were shooting through the dusky blues and purples of the night sky. Gotham would soon awake, and that meant it was time to grab an hour or five of sleep before starting the routine over again. Still, as the motor stopped, Jason couldn’t get the images of the freckles around her mouth out of his head, or the way she’d so carelessly tossed her copper hair over her shoulder. Focus, Todd. You’ve got more important things to do than swoon over a Bat-Brat.
Shaking his head to clear away the ghost of her smile, he opened the door to the basement, tossing the Hood carelessly onto a padded table. His guns and belt were next, then his knives and other weaponry. Finally, the armor and suit were discarded, leaving him only in a skinsuit. With long steps, he reached the lift, keying in the code for the penthouse floor. A shower could wait. As his head hit the pillow, he was already asleep, visions of red and black and gold dancing through wisps of fantasy.
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
A forced laugh escaped her lips, hollow and exasperated. Of course. After rubbing her temples, she leaned back on the palms of her hands, head tilted so she could stare at the darkened sky. “The name wasn’t my choice. I think it was a newspaper that started calling me Batgirl.” It wouldn’t have been her first option, or her second or third. However, the pseudonym had stuck and she had been branded. “Our aliases aren’t very creative, are they?” Barbara snickered, shaking her head.
Jason, suddenly full, set his box aside. He tugged the helmet back over his face, stepping down to sit next to Batgirl, his long legs dangling off the roof.
“You’ve got it backwards, Batsie. The Hood came after the alias. A long time ago, Gotham was controlled by a group of dangerous people known as the Red Hood Gang. When I was a little boy, the leader-” He stopped, unable to suppress a shudder at the memory. “He hurt me pretty good. I took the name after the gang fell, thinking I might bring some good to the name.” He laughed, but it was hollow. “The papers tried to call me Red Bat at first. A nice surprise interview with the editor of the Gazette changed that.” The poor woman had pissed herself when he stepped out of the dark corner of her room at four in the morning.
Day for the Dead (to Dance among the Living) | Jason and Roy
Maybe it wasn’t too late to turn around and go back the way he came.
No. He had to do this.
Roy swallowed down a shaky breath and shook his head. Coward. Mentally berating himself, the red head reminded his sorry self why he was here. How he rehearsed the lines, the reasons over and over until he was having nightmares about the whole event. Though Dick had promised not to tell the others of their encounter, and he seemed to keep his word, the militant knew he had to come clean on his own. He owed this to older man, to his team, he had to do this. No matter the outcome (and more than anything, Roy expected a less than positive outcome) they deserved the truth.
Getting into the compound hadn’t been hard. Perhaps it was nostalgia on Jason’s part, or perhaps just something the vigilante over looked (both reasons doubtful), but Roy’s information and physical signature had been stored in all the alarm systems. It allowed him to bypass security as easily as he would in his own house. So though it had been years since he had last stepped into his old home, he walked the halls easily and without difficulty. He had wondered where he might find Jason in the multi-leveled facility, but Roy figured he might as well start with the older’s favorite spots.
The ex- SEAL had been wandering the compound for a good twenty minutes now, working his way up from the garage. Sure, it had been a while, but Roy never forgot about his friends, nor did he forget their habits and hobbies. Jason hadn’t been in the garage though, wasn’t restoring a new bike, or cleaning his guns. It made the red head wonder, as he boarded the lift, how much had the group changed? Roy himself, felt like there was so much different about him, his experiences of the last few years changing him, yet at his core, he was very much the same. Though he had been in Gotham for a few weeks now, he hadn’t gotten much intel on his old team. A while back they had been involved in cleaning up a break out at Arkham, but since then, things had been quiet. Had they given up their nightly activities? Were they just completely different people?
It was things like this that continued to shake Roy’s confidence in his decision. Still, it’s why he had come back to Gotham in the first place, and if he didn’t at least take the chance of being rejected he would kick himself for it later. He had to at least try. This was the last family he had left, he needed to know… So when Roy encountered the sound of Jason’s voice carrying from behind the upcoming door, the ex- SEAL paused in front of it. He hadn’t heard that voice in so long, and Roxy’s bark— everything seemed exactly the same. It made the red head smile and want to run away simultaneously. He was about to rip open an old wound, he knew that, but was it for the best, or was it just his own selfishness?
With one final burst of dutiful determination, Roy twisted the knob, slowly pushing the door to the library open, catching himself holding his breath.
“Hey, Jaybird. Long time no see.”
Oh yeah.
This was going to be good.
The fingers on Roxy’s ears froze at the sound of a male voice. The words were lost on Jason, barely registering.
Not Henri. No French accent. Dick’s isn’t that deep, and besides, he’s asleep right now. Lack of accent rules Ilya out too. That’s it. No one else could be in here. No one.
There was silence in the library now, save for the barely audible growling of Roxy, who was now standing at attention in front of Jason. Her ears were pulled tight to her head, and her fur stood on end. She was a friendly dog by nature, but fiercely loyal and protective. And, at the size of a small bear, she was more than capable of defending her family.
“Easy girl. I’ll handle it.” Jason murmured. She whined once before sitting, unhappy to be called off.
Standing, Jason ran through his weaponry before turning around. No hood. Two Sig Sauers, twelve in the mags and one in each chamber. Six spare mags on my belt. Ka-Bar tucked into my boot. Airweight .38 special in the ankle holster. The jacket hides the shoulder holster, but it’s unbuttoned so access won’t be an issue.
He turned on his heel, scanning the room until he spotted the intruder, standing barely a meter inside the door. Decently tall, muscular. Hands in his jacket pockets. Worn leather over an even more worn hoodie. Red hair.
Fuck.
The words he’d barely heard clicked into place now.
“Hey, Jaybird.”
Roy.
Goddammit, it was Roy.
Roy was dead. Jason had dug his arm out of the rubble himself. He’d held it, felt the callouses and scars he’d been so intimate with. Ran a finger over the tattoo, barely visible under the burnt hair and scorched flesh. He’d carried it all the way back to the Complex, cleaned it off in the sink in the garage. He and Kory, with Henri and Dick and Zatanna, had stood vigil over a small grave behind the Complex. The tombstone was simple; Kory had chosen it. “Roy William Harper, Jr. A good soldier.” Dick and Zatanna had cried, and Kory had cursed and yelled and pleaded for the gods to bring him back. Jason turned his pain into rage. Gotham was still bleeding. He’d mourn when whomever was responsible for dropping a building on Arsenal was dead.
Less than a week later, Bane was dead, and Roy seemingly avenged. None of the thugs and cronies he interrogated seemed to remember being near Arsenal that day, and he had ways of ensuring they told the truth. Eventually, he accepted that he’d taken care of his honor bound duty, and began life again. He’d spent a good chunk of change on tracking anyone that fit the description of Arsenal, even making a trip to Star City to have a chat with the chartreuse archer about their obvious connection. Nothing had come of it. It had been two years or so since he’d been seen, but here he was in the fucking library, saying hello like nothing had happened.
A thousand reactions ran through his mind, each less rational than the last. Let Roxy at him. Screaming at him. Beating him senseless. Accepting him back with no questions asked. He could kill him, fill the rest of the grave.
He chose none of these. With a snap of his fingers, Roxy was at his heel, and Jason was walking towards his former teammate. Twenty feet. Fifteen, ten. Five. He could see the harsh profile of the prosthesis outlined in the leather jacket, see the size difference in one arm to the next. His clothes were dirty, and he looked worse for wear. Like he’d been through hell while he was gone. Pity rose up in Jason, and he started to think of how Dick and he had bonded after his death, how close they were now. Then he remembered the months he’d been without Kory, and that pity burned away. He’d been alone, abandoned twice by his Outlaws. Alone. Exactly how he should be. Drawing a breath, Jason spoke to Roy for the first time in two years.
“No.”
He roughly pushed past him, shouldering him in the collarbone as he left the library. Quick steps took him to the lift, and he was on the roof within a minute. It was midmorning, and the sun was without a hint of warmth. Frost curled in the shadows, and the sounds of a weekday echoed up from the streets. From here, you could see all of Gotham; three hundred and sixty degrees of metal, stone, and glass. He exhaled, watching his breath fog outward. Attempted to let his anger burn off, to shove it back deep inside of himself. Roxy nuzzled his leg, attuned as she was to her master’s emotions.
Boots on pavement behind him. Jason groaned inwardly. Why did you follow me, Roy? He turned to face him again, this time prepared for what he would see.
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
“A jackass and a charmer – lucky me.” Barbara stated with sardonic lilt as she curled a noodle around her utensil. “I’m glad your media portrayal is correct. Just as I was beginning to think they had you all wrong.”
Jason laughed through a mouth full of noodles. “Batsie, half the shit that’s in the media is leaked by me. You don’t build a reputation like mine without trying. You should try it, you know-is Batgirl even your actual codename?”
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
[Twenty minutes later, the pair of vigilantes are seated on a highrise overlooking the river. Red Hood is a few feet behind Batgirl, perched on an air conditioning unit. His hood is pulled up, and his face is visible from the eyes down. A domino covers his eyes, and a light…
“Glad to see my charms aren’t lost on you.” He smirked. “No, there’s a gooey caramel center under here, Batsie. All you gotta do is lick off the outer coating.”
He didn’t have to see her face to know that got a rise out of her.
New Faces | Zero Year Flashback | Red Hood and Batgirl
Barbara was done feigning interest in this man. In fact, she was done with this whole rendezvous. She couldn’t place his motives, couldn’t tell if he was lying. Beyond frustrated, she let out a small sigh, arms crossing and uncrossing uncomfortably over her chest.
Then he started talking and her expression softened. The Occupation. She remembered it crystal clear. A day wouldn’t go by without a something on the televised news or in the papers. At the time, she was in Cleveland, clinging to any morsel released in the media. She lived in dread for her father’s life, for her friends, for Gotham. Born and raised in the city, she was connected to Gotham by more than blood. She loved it, she lived for it. She had never been so scared in her life.
The helmeted man talked of a heroism she had never witnessed, except as a helpless observer. Swallowing hard, her eyes looked in many directions but his. It felt like someone had kicked her in the gut. She felt embarrassed, humiliated. She had judged him based on sensational headlines, warnings that very well felt unmerited. Rubbing her eyes, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in.
Leaning back on her hands, line of vision went over the skyline. Who was this guy? Why was he telling her all this? Was everything she knew about him wrong? Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the Red Hood outstretched an arm with a bag full of food. Barbara hesitated. Not because she was scared, she was past that now. This man was still dangerous, that part she was absolutely sure. But she wasn’t sure that the person in danger was her anymore.
Wearily, Barbara took the bag, eyes still shamefully cast aside. “No,” Her voice was quiet, a near whisper. “I haven’t seen the river at four a.m.”
[Twenty minutes later, the pair of vigilantes are seated on a highrise overlooking the river. Red Hood is a few feet behind Batgirl, perched on an air conditioning unit. His hood is pulled up, and his face is visible from the eyes down. A domino covers his eyes, and a light beard darkens the rest of the visible area. A cold wind is blowing, and the moon is starting to set in the west.]
Don’t turn around, Batsie. If you saw my face, I’d have to kill you, and I’d rather not do that after saving your life so recently. Just stay that way, and enjoy the food. It’s the best outside China Basin, I promise.
and all of this will never be the same again 