#batman: gotham county lines

[haveyoureadthiscomic-poll]

[thejasontoddarchives]

Batman #416 (1988)

Robin 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular (2020)

Jason doesn’t leave it up to Bruce’s imagination to figure out whether he still cares.

[neonphoenix]

if you haven't read it yet, Batman: Gotham County Line is a goofy but conceptually interesting 3-issue run where 1. Batman has a jetpack because he's in the suburbs and can't grapple around 2. he's in a cursed eldrich suburb full of zombies 3. one of the zombies is robin!Jason but they actually write him surprisingly complex for, well, the "mandatory zombie Jason appearance" of mid 2000s comics. It veers between silly and horror in what I think is a fun way and Bruce does like, so much character growth in just a few issues? Love that for him. It's firmly "Alright" not good or bad, but I'm obsessed with the themes it plays with, not sure if you'd be interested.

Just read it, it seems to be a typical science vs magic setup, focuses on facts vs faith and whether anything happens to us when we die.

Gonna toss my step-by-step commentary below the cut because it's long. Most of the start is summary of the comic, check the bottom for a summary of my thoughts.

Book 1: The Obvious Kill

First thing we see? Batman making death threats to Joker. I think whether or not he intends to kill him is beside the point, it's all about how the Joker is used to challenge Batman's beliefs and force him to toe the line.

Joker makes a comment about how being dead would suit Batman because then he'd be able to see everyone he'd lost, Batman declares Joker is, "Crazier than I thought," because he believes in something after death.

What follows is a brief discussion of facts vs faith with Alfred, something which I thought was funny because Bruce declares there are no facts to support an afterlife, despite all the people he's met up to this point who could feasibly support it.

Now that the setup is out of the way, we receive a call from Gordon and go to meet him in his pyjamas. He's got a case file full of incredibly gruesome murders that have been occurring in the suburbs, following the same MO as a recently captured thief.

Batman agrees to look into it, and jetpacks out into the suburbs, after noting the very specific ways in which the murders were carried out. He figures out how the thief and killer were sedating the families, and gives it to the detective on site, Greer. While there, they receive news of another set of murders, and head over to the scene, where the suspect is just leaving. The suspect knocks Batman out by injecting him with something.

When he comes to, we're introduced to the other two detectives on the case: Keith and Radmuller. They aren't very happy with Batman being there, but he is able to conclude that the killer is somewhat aware of his movements, leaving a short list of possibilities.

Batman visits the thief to find out who he's been making sleeping agent for, only for the thief to be shot by a sniper before it can be revealed. He engages the suspect again, and yet again has his ass handed to him.

But now he knows who the killer is! He reveals to the other detectives that it is none other than Radmuller. He jetpacks over to Radmuller's apartment, and enters, only for a rope attached to the door to pull the stool out from under Radmuller, leading to a dramatic hanging.

Radmuller gets carted off to the morgue, and Batman heads home. Unfortunately, that's when the zombie apocalypse begins. Radmuller wakes up and zombifies the paramedics with him.

Book 2: Death's Highway

Before getting into the second installment, I'd like to take a moment to point out how much of an impact the coloring has on this particular story. As the tone of the story shifts, so does the tone of the panels. Most things are muted, but other things are oversaturated in order to draw attention. It really complements the plot nicely, so I'd recommend anyone interested in reading the full comic to pay attention to it.

Back to the writing.

Bruce wakes up in a cold sweat with nightmares about being torn apart by zombies. He checks his blood to see if he's been inspected with anything, but everything comes back normal. He speaks with Alfred, who, outside of Bruce's field of vision, seems to pull a worm from his head and then absorb it into his hand. Our first clue that something really isn't right. If the zombies weren't enough of one already.

Speaking of zombies, Bruce hears something in the cave and turns around to find a hoard of zombies. He flees to the batmobile while trying to figure out what's wrong with him. He turns back into the cave, and the zombies are only images on the monitor. In the next panel, everything is back to normal. He asks Alfred to run a security check. Everything is fine.

Gordon calls, tells him detective Keith wants to talk. He leaves and phones her. There's something wrong, Radmuller's body has disappeared, and she needs his help. Batman notes that regardless of how much he goes over the facts, they don't make sense. There's something more he's missing. Here we see the return of the fact vs faith argument, as guys facts aren't enough to fill in the blanks.

He meets Keith, she gets killed by the last man Radmuller killed. He's a zombie, and missing both his eyes, as are all of Radmuller's prior victims. There's a motif of sight somewhere in here.

As Keith dies, she begs Batman to tell her there's something more, and he can't. Instead he apologizes and shuts her eyes. Back to the sight motif. Batman has both of his eyes, but he cannot see. He shuts the detective's eyes. The man missing his eyes sees more than both of them.

This is a good time for Deadman to emerge from Keith's mouth. There could be symbolism there but I think it's mostly dramatics.

Outside, Batman pursues the zombie.

He then calls Alfred, to check in on things back home. He's been getting more and more uncertain throughout the story, and keeps putting up more walls and falling back on what he thinks he knows.

Everything here is not as it should be. It's almost a little funny, to watch this bit. Alfred doesn't say things are normal, just that they are as they should be. He should be a rotting corpse. Checks out I guess.

Batman runs into Detective Greer, or not accurately, is run into. Like Alfred, Greer is rotting and his left eye has rolled back into his skull. Half blind. They talk a bit, but it doesn't really provide answers. Deadman shows up and declares that they can't provide Batman with answers it's, "Like a snake eating its own tail." He reveals that they're all trapped in some sort of in between state, a fold in time.

Deadman is literally from the land of the dead. That in and of itself should be enough fact to explain that people stick around when they die. Not for Batman though!

They return to Radmuller's apartment, where it all started. There, Batman finds himself. Literally.

He's so obstinate. The facts are right in front of his face but he doesn't like them and so refuses to believe them. He's incredibly blind. They leave the apartment, only to be confronted by a horde of zombies. Deadman is quickly overcome. Batman, on the other hand, is only about to be, at the hands of Radmuller and his army.

Finally though, he admits that he's afraid.

Book 3: Night of the Living Dead

Batman is being overcome by zombies. Somehow, he's feeding them. Radmuller comments that it's because violence is all he knows.

Eventually, Radmuller himself steps forward, crooked neck and all. As he begins to beat up Batman, though, his neck seems to straighten. It's a visual symbol of his gaining strength.

That's 3-0 in Radmuller's favor, for anyone keeping score.

Radmuller reveals that not all of these people are his victims, some are ones Batman failed to save, angry at him for not being there. They attack him, and eventually he is forced to run to find Deadman. I think what he's most terrified of is being alone and without a partner.

That's when help arrives in the form of a partner he failed to save: Robin. Unlike the other dead, Jason isn't mad at Batman for failing. He's just here to help him.

Robin saves him, and is strong enough to hold back the zombies long enough for Batman to escape to a house, where he discovers Parsons (the thief from before, who was shot) protecting children from their dead parents outside. Parsons is definitely some sort of figure, but I'm not sure what I'd call him. Parsons directs him towards the basement, where he discovers Radmuller's parents, along with a young Radmuller.

Batman yells at him to shut up, and Radmuller vanishes alongside his parents.

When Batman comes out of the basement, Parsons asks him, "You see?" To which he agrees, saying, "Yeah. I saw." His eyes are beginning to open for the first time. He doesn't get it all yet, but he's starting to.

The zombies break in, and he sends everyone upstairs, telling them he's not alone. Then he calls for Deadman, who appears and asks if he figured it out. It's Batman's reality, both he and Radmuller have control over it. The Phantom Stranger shows up to do something cool and defeat zombies.

I'm at image limit or I'd be adding more, but the Phantom comments on Batman giving power over to "The Hanged Man" which seems to be s reference to the Tarot card.

"The Hanged Man is the card that suggests ultimate surrender, sacrifice, or being suspended in time."

Which honestly seems to be very fitting with this story. Trapped in a fold in time, Batman has to surrender his worldview in order to get out and save everyone.

He goes outside, talks to his parents (as is necessitated by these storylines) and his mother tells him to "Remember more than the pain." He then takes this advice and goes to face Radmuller again, bringing Radmuller's parents along with him.

He defeats Radmuller with ease this time, and the whole thing starts to fall apart. Radmuller's parents confront him about what he did. Jason tells Batman he'll see him around, which Batman agrees with, before leaving, and Deadman instructs him to go back to the start. Batman returns to Radmuller's apartment, this time cutting the rope before he can hang himself. When he drags him outside, it's only been a few minutes since he went in originally.

Radmuller gets hauled away, and Batman reflects on how he's just like any other criminal now. He also implies that he now believes in an afterlife as he jetpacks away.

Themes, motifs, symbols and notes:

Color. I mentioned that the coloring impacted the story a lot, and it really does. Red, blue, & yellow all set very clear tones throughout otherwise muted scenes.

Sight. Blind men and dead men are more capable of sight than men with functioning eyes. That's a common mechanism in stories (see Oedipus) for revealing the truth. In this story, blind and dead men help Batman to open his own eyes. It's also interesting to note the partial vision that shows up in characters such as Alfred.

Robin. Robin saves Batman in this story, like he does throughout DC storylines. The most interesting thing about it is comparing this Jason, who isn't upset with Batman at all, with post-resurrection Jason, who is spitting mad about not being saved.

How much of it is real and how much is fabricated by Batman? His parents say they appear as he remembers them. The people seem to act based on how he thinks they should act. But Jason hardly blames him for his death, even though Batman blames himself for it. So I think the people only appear as he thinks of them, and he doesn't actually have any influence over how they act

Radmuller is the hanged man, and a reference to the Tarot card.

That's all I can think of off the top of my head, but I'm interested in hearing your thoughts as well!

[evilminji]

You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?

Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?

The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.

And it WANTS?

To be a HOME™.

To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.

Come live in me~

I am a good home.

I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.

I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.

But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!

But... instead?

They are hurt.

Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.

It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.

When? Who should come along?

But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...

He's TIRED.

He wants to cry.

Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?

"Free House!"

Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!

Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?

Is he really gonna do this?

......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?

Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.

The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.

House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.

He probably SHOULD have.

Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.

No one can get near it.

It's been getting BIGGER.

Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.

Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.

Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?

@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes

[mydarlingbat]

Batman: Gotham County Line #1

[littledead-ridinghood]

okay i've failed at finding this myself so I'm releasing this upon y'alls to turn over:

do any of you know that comic where batman is fighting his way through the dead and, at some point, Dead Jaybin appears to help him fight his way through the swarm? It's not Batman: demon (1996) nor is it Batman: The Cult. It was released after Jason's murder and pre-resurrection (?). It sticks in my mind because Jason's character wasn't dragged through the mud like it often was post-death. I swear I'm going insane because I can't find it. The art style was vaguely similar to The Cult though, if my memory is serving my correctly.

Bruce may have been riding the high of fear gas or have been trapped in a nightmare of some sort. I remember Jason waving good-bye to Bruce at the end.

best of luck o7 and if any of you know what I'm talking about & report back, I'll love you 5ever <3

EDIT: found! Batman: Gotham County Line

I highly recommend. Thank you everyone for your help!

[sanguineterrain]

Could I humbly request Dullahan (basically a headless horseman with a whip made from a spine) Jason giving reader a ride on Halloween? If not, that’s okay.

what a delightful prompt anon! i took some batman-inspired liberties here, so jason is more of a regular headless horseman than a dullahan specifically (kept the whip tho bc man, what a badass weapon). but omg it fits him SO well. hope you like it!

headless horseman!jason todd x gn!reader. spooky themes. i guess it's a different time period -- i was imagining 19th century. reader knew jason before he died.

send halloween requests!!

****

You should've taken a carriage.

That's all you can think as you cross the border from Clarence County to Gotham County. You've been walking for an hour, and you're only just entering Gotham. The sun went down ages ago.

It's mostly wilderness outside of the city, and it's generally safe. Rich folk build vacation cabins in these woods. Others hike and fish along the river.

You still should've taken a carriage. Even if no people pose a threat to you out here, the forest is still dangerous. Bears. Snakes.

...Things not of this world.

No, you can't think that way.

Your basket of farm goods makes your arm ache. You switch it to your other hand. You're beginning to think that making this trip wasn't worth it at all. Certainly not if a bear mauls you.

A twig snaps and you jump about three feet in the air. You skitter away from the tree line, heart beating fast.

You wait. You have a glass bottle of milk to throw at whatever comes out of the woods.

Nothing. Silence. The trees might as well be dead.

Slowly, you untense, muscles slowly going slack. A twig probably didn't even snap; it's only your imagination. Yes. Right.

You tuck the milk back into your basket and adjust yourself, continuing your trek.

"Awful late to be out."

This time, you do throw the milk bottle. It lands with a thud in the soft dirt. The voice speaks again. He sounds amused.

"You missed me."

You whirl around and gawp. How had you missed a man on a horse? Surely you would've heard footsteps or the jingle of the straps.

The horse is huge, with a shiny, black coat. Its rider is proportionally large, broad shoulders straining his crimson hood. You can't make out his face, the opening nothing but a void. You squint, but grow dizzy when you look too hard.

It's such a strange thought, but your first instinct is that you know the rider. Intimately so. Like an old friend.

The horse is a shadow, the edges of its mane blurry. It nickers and drags its hoof over the dirt. It also has a hood, so you can't make out its face either.

The hooded figure watches you from his horse. At least, you think he does.

"Are you lost?" he asks. His voice echoes strangely, like it's coming from underground.

"No," you say immediately. "I'm on my way back to Gotham."

Most people have enough sense not to challenge Gotham citizens.

He tilts his head. You wish you could see his face.

"I can give you a ride. I'm headed there myself."

There is a red knight's helmet tied to the saddle. You look at it, then at him.

"I'll manage," you say. "I know my way."

"It's dangerous to travel alone on foot. Especially so late."

He dismounts the horse. Even on the ground, his presence is overwhelming. There is a long, bone-white whip fastened to his hip. Are those...?

"What's in the helmet?" you ask.

"Why do you think there's something inside?" His voice echoes again.

He goes and retrieves the bottle of milk you threw. It isn't cracked, which is fortunate. He opens the basket hooked over your arm and gently places the milk inside. Your heart pounds the entire time.

"I won't hurt you," he says, stepping back. "Gotham is my city. You are mine to protect."

"Gotham belongs to the Bat."

"Not for much longer," he says, almost snarling.

You look at the horse, which has been eerily still. The moon is high in the sky. Stars dance outside of the city smog.

"If it makes you feel safer," he says, voice softer. "You can hold my whip. If I do anything you don't like, you can be sure I won't do it again."

You don't like that idea; you hope you don't have to use the whip on him, though he is a stranger. But you like his voice, even if it echoes oddly. And you like how gentle he is, how calm his horse remains. You are sure he won't hurt you, even though there is no proof for you to confirm that.

You extend your hand.

"Alright," you say. "Please take me home."

He pushes you onto the horse, who doesn't even stir when you get on its back. Then he mounts with ease. He slides his whip out and gives it to you; on further inspection, you realize it's a spine. The horse takes off at a gallop, and you cling to the hooded man so you won't fall off.

"Are you a soldier?" you ask, wind biting at your face. He is cold but full of strength.

"I was."

"What should I call you?"

He thinks for a moment, steady under the brutal pace.

"You may call me Red Hood."

"Haven't you got a name?" you ask.

"I did," Hood says. "I'm not certain that it's mine anymore."

He sounds young. You wish you could see his face.

You arrive in Gotham sooner than you should, even on horse. Hood dismounts again and helps you down, strong hands on your waist. You land on the ground in a whoosh, and Hood holds you for a second longer than necessary. You linger against him and squint, trying to find his eyes. You can't.

"Will you show me your face?" you ask.

Red Hood immediately steps back. You hold your basket to your chest.

"You'd never forgive me if I did," he says, and the echo is back.

"I feel like I know you," you say, stepping towards him, and Hood puts more distance between you.

For the first time, the horse whinnies. It's a ghastly sound, like it's in pain, and you flinch. You spin around to see what spooked the horse, but by the time you do, it's gone.

And so is the Red Hood.

The whip, however, is still wrapped around your own waist; it's your only reminder that he was here at all.

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

On the subject of gotham county line and batman noel and so on and so forth it’s pretty frustrating (from a watsonian pov) that anytime Bruce hallucinates Jason being loving/ caring/helpful/compassionate towards him it’s always as robin and never as his current self

[veloxiraptors]

j a s o n ? !

Batman: Gotham County Line #3 written by Steve Niles & illustrated by Scott Hampton

[husteropotmos]

happy halloween to him ❤️

(gotham knights #34 / batman annual #25 / batman: gotham county line #3)

[dean-isms]

“I suppose, but riddle me this, Batboy - ghosts aren’t exactly known for hopping county lines, right?”

Reference: Batman (and The Riddler)

Episode: 6x14 “Mannequin 3: The Reckoning”

Writer: Eric Charmelo & Nicole Snyder

Spoken To: Sam Winchester

Media Type: Multimedia Franchise

Timeframe: 1939 (Comic Debut), 1948 (Riddler First Appearance)

Description: Batman is a superhero published by DC Comics. Operating in Gotham City, he serves as its protector, using the symbol of a bat to strike fear into the hearts of criminals. The Riddler is depicted as a criminal mastermind who has an obsessive compulsion to incorporate riddles, puzzles, and death traps in his schemes to prove his intellectual superiority over Batman and the police.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

you don't need poltergeist for sidekick

by spinnerofink (modernprometheass)

A coda to "Batman: Gotham County Limits" which is a three issue series you should definitely read including zombie jason and Batman with a jetpack. This fic probably won't make much sense if you haven't read it.

Jason Todd returns with the rest of the Bat's unquiet dead. The eldrich psychic-suburb is good for something, at least. He gets to hear his son's voice again-- even if it's rattled through a decayed ribcage and mummified vocal cords. It's still Jason. And that's... beautiful.

Words: 1042, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman (Comics), batman: gotham county line

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, actual zombie jason my beloved!!!

Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Additional Tags: i didn't expect this comic to slap so hard, why do limited runs always have the best feels ugh, Ficlet, body horror fluff is the only genre i write !

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/40617357

[screams-bitch]

@gottaread2 @smol-james

@gothams-bitch

[kyberphilosopher]

Hiss

[Part ii. of Bite] Jason’s been resurrected, only to find he’s been replaced as Robin. Luckily, an old enemy of the Batman has the attributes to help. Word Count: 6465

Warning[s]: guns, crime, language, crude humor, Mitski, non vegetarian reader, age gap, glorified taskmaster ally. Following part i the readers official gender is not disclosed. 

“Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

☈ - ✮ ✭ ✮

Six months. That’s how long it took for Jason to die. Six. Whole. Months. In an abandoned warehouse, in some foreign country that he couldn’t even remember. He’d been fifteen, small for his age but fifteen nonetheless, when that clown had beat him. And what had Batman done? Nothing. He’d let him sit in that warehouse, in that foreign country, with that clown at age fifteen- for six months. And he had done nothing.

Not that it really matters now. It had, at one point, to Jason. He’s in denial that it still does. But to Batman? Oh, it never mattered at all. How long had it taken Bruce to replace his son? A week? A month? No, it had been six months. Barely. And the clown? He was safe and sound, very much alive and loose as he usually was. Batman had put him in Arkham, after a while, but of course it hadn’t lasted for very long. Jason’s death? That was permanent. At least until there was a new and improved and very much replaced Jason running with Batman, six months later. That was permanent too.

So one can imagine the confusion you felt when you opened the door to find a very much alive ex-Robin on your apartment doorstep. 

201 Arkham Street, apartment 317 Gotham City, Gotham County, New Jersey

That’s the address given to him by the Riddler. Putting him in Arkham seemed to be one thing that the Batman had got done during Jason’s little time away. Clearly it had ended up well enough for at least one person. Jason hadn’t even needed to threaten the Riddler out of riddling. In less than ten minutes, Edward Nygma had revealed the Mockingbird’s address, who they like and don’t like, what their suit was made of, and finally their name. Batman had always assumed Riddler and Mockingbird were best friends, birds of a feather with all the times the they’d seemed to make some kind of appearance by the others side. Some friend Riddler was now. 

Jason had snuck into the Batcave recently, and while going through files, decided to take a glimpse into Mockingbird’s just for the sake of curiosity. He wasn’t expecting much. When he was fifteen, it had been near empty. But sure enough, the file had been expanded upon relatively greatly in the past- what? Four years? That sounded right. But one thing that hadn’t changed was your seemingly long standing friendship with Edward Nygma, the Riddler. Still, so much for it. 

Batman had seemingly made a note of allies of theirs, then crossed out multiple names. Poison Ivy, Bane, Deadshot- and yes- the Riddler, stayed. Scarecrow, Black Mask, and Catwoman were all shockingly crossed out. Jason hadn’t expected the last one. Below the allies were the list of crimes. That had changed too. They’d gotten more violent towards the end of the list, straying away from the Mockingbird that the ex-Robin had known. Mockingbird had picked a fight with Dick’s Nightwing enough times for Batman to make a note of too. Before Jason could get to the new pictures of Mockingbird, he quickly closed the file. Didn’t need to see anymore. 

So based on what he had gathered, you should’ve looked different. He’d memorized your face when he was fifteen. Was expecting it to have changed compared to then. But when you open the door and Jason’s face to face with you, Mockingbird, it’s like the first time. Only your eyebrows have gotten slightly darker, and your eyes have rung with dark circles. 

✮ ✭ ✮

The same can’t be said for Jason Todd, however, who you let into your apartment rather quickly. 

You’d done your research on him, too, but only after you’d heard about his death. A death which was confirmed. After locking the door and beginning to turn around, he answers the question before you can ask. 

“Superboy and Lazarus Pits.”

“Ah,” you respond, crossing your arms. The man stands tall in your living room, though it’s not forced. You’ve got no idea what a Lazarus Pit is, but it seems to have changed the Robin you knew before. He was scrawny before. He puffed his chest out before. He had something to prove before. Now his broad shoulders make him look bigger naturally. He could reach up and touch your ceiling with no effort. His face and jaw are masculine and strong, eyes bright green and blue and cyan like you remember. That’s how you know it’s Jason Todd.

“It’s because of the power struggle, isn’t it?” says Harley beside you as you both look over the side of the roof, her flat on her belly and you crouched on the ledge in watch. 

“Hm?” you’d tossed back through your voice changer, not even looking away from the busy street below. 

“Jay killed the Robin,” Harley chirps. “You know- Batman’s little boyfriend? In the shorts and the tights with the flips and the kicks? Oh, that kid went bing, bang, boom. Jay’s been real pumped about it.”

This had made you turn to Harley Quinn. You looked at her over your shoulder, still in position. Though you hadn’t thought about it at the time, it was a good thing she couldn’t see through your mask right about now. 

“The kid?” you say at last. 

“Yeah! Jason Todd! Ya’ know him?”

Harley doesn’t look at you, bubbly as ever in her own world. But you watch her for a moment. Then you turn back around to the direction of the street. “No.”

“Well I’m sayin I bet that’s why there’s so much crime goin’ on now. Old Batty’s got it...”

“I heard,” you tell Jason, before he can go into further detail. He nods once in understanding, in line with a breath, and then looks around the room. Your apartment is small, seemingly in decay, and looks like a shithole. Just like the rest of the building. 

“Mockingbird, I presume,” he offers finally. “Y/N L/N was it?”

You nod once, holding your gaze at the ground in thought before taking a step toward your kitchen. It’s close by to the living room. So close, in fact, that your island counter practically touches the back of your couch. “Robin,” you greet in turn. 

“My name’s Ja-”

“I know what your name is.”

Just then a sprinkle of dust falls from your ceiling, mixing with dirt and shit and pollen. “Nice place,” Jason condescends. 

“I’m sorry,” you put your hands on your counter as you lean in to look at him. “Weren’t you under the ground not too long ago?”

“Weren’t you in jail not too long ago?”

“I never went to jail.”

“But your buddy Ed did didn’t he?”

Your eyebrows crease, and Jason notices you lean forward a fraction of an inch more. He got to you. “How do you know about Edward?”

Jason Todd gives a small smile. His right hand reaches up until it’s poking the side of his head a few times. “Bat knowledge.”

You frown tightly. “Don’t do that. I didn’t like that.”

“You like beating up Dick Grayson?”

You shift. “Yeah. I did.”

“And Catwoman? Huh?”

“Yeah,” you say a little louder. “I did. What wonder boy? You wanna see the scar to prove it?”

“Okay,” Jason huffs. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and then he speaks softer to control himself. “Okay. I’m not Boy Wonder anymore, or wonder boy. Don’t call me that.”

You look him up and down. His eyes, his jaw, his brows. The Robin you knew those years ago. He’d been beaten and blown up. He must’ve cried for help. 

“Okay,” you say, equally as soft. “But just for the record, I haven’t been the Mockingbird for years. Can’t really call me that either.”

“Why not?” Jason Todd questions, turning around so his back faces you while he observes your apartment. You can see his muscles through his shirt. 

Because you were just a kid. Because I liked you. Because you didn’t deserve it. Because Batman didn’t help. Because you were replaced. Because most of my friends laughed it off. Because I couldn’t go after Joker myself. Because I got angry. 

“Just grew out of it,” you shrug instead, turning around. You open your dirty fridge and pull out a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. “What are you doing here, Jason?” you say as you pour the drink, your back now turned to him. 

“I need your help.”

“Whatever with?”

“I’m thinking of getting a little...” Jason’s voice goes low into something like a masculine purr, “...revenge on Batman.”

“You came back from the dead,” you turn around with two glasses of lemonade, “to get revenge on the Batman? That’s your great plan?”

“No,” Jason says simply. He’s since turned around so he’s facing you. “Screwing with the Batman is just a piece of the fun. He’s nothing.”

Jason accepts the glass that you hand to him. You sit down on your couch in front of his figure. That simple motion is enough to bring out some more dust from your walls. “So what’s the revenge?” you take a sip of the sweet, gritty liquid. It coats your teeth strangely in seconds. 

“New Robin. Ever heard of Tim Drake?”

You stop your sip, looking up at the big, broad Jason. You can already tell where this is going. “Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

His brows shoot up. “You hit me in the face with a pipe.”

“I didn’t hit you. You walked into my swing. But you wanna go after the kid, Jason? Really?”

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms so his forearms flex. 

“Tim Drake?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes in thought. On one hand, you hadn’t been Mockingbird for years. You stopped when you were eighteen, and you’re twenty one now. Not that it’s helped you very much. You’re still struggling in a shithole, broke and unhappy and no longer able to afford school. And Tim Drake hasn’t really done anything wrong. But on the other hand, Batman is a dick, and you really stopped liking him after what happened to the former Robin. You’d wanted to go after him and the Joker for it, but you’re not far enough in the Gotham food chain for that. Trading swings with Selina was as close as you got. 

“Alright.” You stand. You’re not even close to Jason’s height. “Lay out the deal. You got a suit?”

✮ ✭ ✮

And that’s how you and Jason Todd ended up on a roof that night. You, at the crisp age of twenty one, and he at what you suppose is his version of nineteen. Still working on wrapping your head around that one. 

You’ve pulled out your Mockingbird suit from under the bed. It was a bit dusty, but not hard to slip into. Everything seems in place. It’s just old. Your voice scrambler is still working okay and all the eyes light up efficiently. Jason’s got a suit too. 

“I don’t,” Jason answers, his face suspicious. His eyes are twinkling as he looks down at you. It’s so hard to believe he’s just a boy- or was, last you saw him. 

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I got you.”

You lead Jason to your room, into your closet, and into a space even farther back where an illuminated glass case the size of several yard sticks stands. It must cost more than your whole apartment. Inside of it is a metal suit like a military uniform, similar to Bruce’s Batsuit but with an Arkham emblem over the chest. 

“Call it the Arkham Knight. You like it?”

“Where did you get this?” Jason steps forward, raking his eyes up and down the design. Bruce would hate it. 

“I stole it from the Batcave.”

“The whole display case?” Jason snaps to you. Then his brows shoot up and he takes a step closer. “How do you know where the Batcave is?”

“How did you know where my apartment is? And yes, I took the whole case. It was just sitting there.”

Jason turns back around to the suit. It’s growing on him. He admires it. It’s perfect. The Arkham symbol will put the Batman into a state of despair. “Hard to believe you and Selina aren’t friends anymore.”

“We never were,” you mutter back. It’s really not his business that you ended so many partnerships because of his death.

“You’re sure this is the place?” you question. It sends Jason into a state of euphoria, hearing the distorted villainy of your voice again. It feels like the first time too, just like when he saw your face again. It feels how it did when he was fifteen and infatuated with the Mockingbird. It’s almost dizzying. It’s just strange to hear it knowing that now you’re on the same side. 

“Yeah,” he answers through his helmet. His voice is distorted too. “This is the place.”

You’re overlooking a Gotham street at night, something you’ve both discovered vigilantes, heroes, and villains do a lot of. Smoke fills the air along with police sirens and building lights. You’re positioned in one of the outer districts though, away from most of the commotion. 

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” you say, half to yourself. 

“I can,” Jason says back. “When I ran with Batman. Last year. I was fifteen.” Jason's voice drops. “Or was I...”

You frown behind your own mask. Of course. Jason died four years ago, and he was fifteen when that happened. He came back- you’re not sure when- older and stronger and behind on the changes of the world. He must not know about social media, or the latest television crazes, or the new roads in Gotham. It makes you sad. 

All Jason sees when he meets your eyes through his visor is several red slanted lines. You’re both unreadable through your helmets. 

“There’s a good restaurant down on this corner,” you both turn back to the street, crouching in wait. “Maybe B-Man likes it.”

“He never eats,” says the ex-Robin. “Never sleeps. Never does anything.”

“You know he broke my buddy Scarecrow’s bones last Halloween?” you scoff. “Literally for not knowing where Black Mask is. Your old boss is weird as hell.”

Jason cocks an eyebrow you can’t see. “Thought you weren’t friends with Scarecrow anymore?”

“Anymore? B-Man keeping tabs on me?”

“He keeps tabs on everyone,” Jason shakes his head. “You’re just a file.”

“Hm,” he hears you say. Contemplate, more like. You speak again after a moment of silence. “Well Scarecrow and me are fine, thank you for asking.”

Jason scoffs. “He your boyfriend or something?”

“My boyfriend’s over in Metropolis.”

Oh. 

“How’s your girl?” Your head snaps to Jason at once, hands twitching around. “Or guy.”

He tosses a look to you that you can’t see, but you can guess at. Somewhere between ‘what the hell’ and ‘why the hell’ and an eye roll with furrowed brows. 

“Come on. Rose Wilson seems your type. Ooh, Artemis?” You suddenly nudge his arm with your elbow. “Batgirl? Is it Dick?”

Another look is thrown your way. This time it feels more angry. “Whatever, Robin,” you offer lightly. 

It dawns on you that perhaps Jason has never had a partner before. That seems more likely, especially after thinking about his situation, and suddenly you feel bad. It’s too late to vocalize an apology now though.

“Fine,” you say at last. “Let’s just stop talking.”

“Let’s do.”

✮ ✭ ✮

It starts raining not long after that. 

The drops bounce off your suits harmlessly. There’s still no sign of this Tim Drake and Batman. 

“Hey,” you break the silence. “Has anyone ever told you you look exactly like a statue?”

“Must be a resurrection thing.”

“Yep.”

The rain falls harsher.

“So,” Jason begins. “I have to ask. How do you do the- the…” he spins his pointer fingers around rapidly.

“What the fuck are you doing? What is that? No- what is that right there?”

“The thing that you do.”

“I’ve never done that in my life, Jason. What is that? Finger jiu jitsu?”

You hear Jason suck in a breath as he turns away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“You asked me for help. And between the two of us- who has died here? Not me. I’m hilarious.”

“Oh,” he scoffs. “So hilarious.”

“You seemed to think so. When…” your voice trails off. You almost wanted to mention that night in the warehouse to him. A memory of him looking up at you, his hands bound behind his back as he stares in wonder flashes in your mind. But it doesn’t linger for long. Movement in the street catches your eye. “Jason.”

Both your heads snap down to the place below. Sure enough, after a few seconds, a figure steps into view of the moonlight. A skinny kid with dark hair and a bright red and yellow costume. He looks younger than Dick or Jason.

“That’s him,” your partner says. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a long rod. It unfolds with a click that you recognize- the click of a gun.

“What?” you furrow your brows. “Woah- what?”

“I’m gonna shoot him,” Jason tells you casually, fiddling around with the weapon. It’s coming into shape more and more as a sniper rifle.

“That is a child,” you whisper hiss. “He’s like ten!”

“I don’t think he’s ten,” Jason puts his eye over the scope. “This is revenge.”

“Please, do not shoot a child for replacing you in your job of tightie whities vigilante.”

Jason huffs through his mask and looks over at you. “What did you think this was, bird?”

“I thought we were just like, gonna kick him in the balls or something! This is exactly what I meant by ‘we are going to jail’! I told you we should’ve let god fix it!”

“He’ll be fine.”

You knock the rifle out of the Arkham Knights hands with a bang. It clambers across the roof top until it’s nearly over the edge, half on half off.

Jason and you go down at once, shoulder to shoulder in a tackle. Thunder booms overhead. Through his visor, Jason sees you raise a white, gauntleted fist back in a punch, aimed right for his face. Luckily, he manages to catch you by the torso and neck and throw you off.

When he pushes himself to his knee and foot in a kneel, he looks up to find an exact replica of himself. Not literally, of course, but looking at you is like looking into a mirror. Your hand is placed on the rooftop the same way his is. Your knees are bent at the exact same angle as his own. When Jason cocks his head to the side slowly, yours follows him at the same time. So this is what it means to fight the Mockingbird.

He decides to reach for the gun at the side of his leg. He manages to fire once- and miss- a bang going off that he’ll be lucky Drake doesn’t hear over the storm. You knock the gun out of his hands easily, dodging a punch to the stomach before countering with one of your own to his face. It hits the exact same way Jason’s do. He sees your knuckles coming closer to him and almost thinks they’re his own.

Next idea is toss you off the building. Key word: you. Not him.

Jason grips the back of your head through your hood, reaching around. He carries you with him while he stands, tensing his abs as he feels you hammer your elbow away at them. It’s the knee to his crotch that makes him let go and let out a strangled groan.

But before anything else can happen, you spring forward at him in a pounce. Your palms latch onto his shoulders. His feet disconnect from the surface of the roof and the both of you go backwards until neither one of you are on the building at all, over the side.

Jason gets tangled in the emergency stair well. His metal suit clangs against it as he falls and tumbles down, either causing or saving some head injuries. You hit your back on an old street light before landing in a trash bin.

This is it, you manage to think to yourself. Lying in a garbage bin in Gotham at night. And in the rain. This is rock bottom.

I am going to kill everyone on the block for this, thinks Jason.

✮ ✭ ✮

You do eventually get up and remove yourself from the garbage bin. Jason sits at the bottom of the stairs, watching you. You do not exchange words. He does, however, follow you down the street as you essentially stomp.

“Ma’am,” he offers quietly to a gawking older woman.

You enter a small restaurant. More of a diner, really. The door jingles as it opens, and Jason watches you walk to the side until you find a table by the window. You sit down with a huff, tapping one of your helmets red eyes. He shuffles into the space ahead of you, nearly skirting the table across the floor with the bulk of his own muscle and suit. He can feel your judgy eyes on him as he clambers into the seat like a large, run down father.

“Hi there,” a chirpy waitress bounds. She’s a large, redheaded woman in a bright yellow uniform and a hat with a spring connected to a plastic burger on top. It is ridiculous, funny, and you are sadly not in the mood. “My, aren’t you two some interesting looking people! We don’t get a lot of men of metal around here!”

You both look at her silently, masks on but hatred seeping through boredly.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“A gun,” you drawl tiredly, rubbing your palms over your mask.

“We’re not sellin’ those right now, my dear. Something else?”

“Two cheeseburgers would be fine,” Jason speaks up for you.

“Two burgers,” the waitress repeats with a smile, writing it down in her burger notepad. Her cheeks are rosy as she beams happily. “And should I be expecting Superman?”

“Die,” you snap to her, watching her hurry off to the kitchen. Then you put your head down in your folded arms on the table.

Jason glanced around. It’s empty except for the two of you and some dumpy guy in a trucker hat with wide eyes. “What’re you staring at?” Jason all but barks. Normally, he tries to make himself as unnoticeable as possible in public. Not very confident or secure, it seems. But now he’s tired. He just fell down about a million floors worth of metal stairs. It’s late and he lost two of his guns.

“What?” you raise your head, also looking at the trucker hat man. “You’ve never seen two people in superhero suits before?”

“Beat it,” Jason orders.

The man is quick to stand and speed walk away. Still you egg on, “get out of here, bozo!”

“What a fuckin’ prick,” Jason grumbles as he watches the man trip down the street through his view from the window, the door still ringing to signal it’s been opened.

“Yeah,” you agree tiredly.

Your nimble fingers reach up and back to push your white hood from your head. Then they click against the sides of your face and pull the helmet away, revealing your face. You inhale as if you couldn’t get enough air before. Jason watches you, still as a statue, his visor giving him the luxury of being able to monitor your breathing.

“Now what?” you gripe, rubbing your eyes. It can’t be comfortable with all the armor on your hands, but you don’t seem bothered. You must’ve gotten used to it by now.

The Arkham Knight ahead of you only cocks his head to the side slightly. Silent with his helmet. “I’ll help you punch Tim but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Why are you defending this kid?” you hear Jason breathe in return. For a split second, electricity runs through you at the sound of his distorted voice, the way his body looks in his suit of armor and how unreadable he is through the helmet. It shocks you all the the way down to your crotch.

“You know,” you begin, eyes widening and voice quieting with a sudden nervousness. “He’s just a kid. Younger than you were.”

Jason scoffs and turns his head away from you, now looking out the window. Gotham is dark and damp outside. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. Then after a few seconds and continues. “Tim Drake and I are the same age.” His head pulls back slightly, fingers giving a strange, sudden twitch. “Or were. We’re-”

You’ll never know what Tim Drake and Jason Todd were. Jason never finishes his sentence, and only his suit flashes with little codes and details to let you know he’s still alive in there. Besides that, he’s as still, lost in sudden thought. You frown and lean in a bit, tapping your elbow with your fingers while you shift uncomfortably. “You’re nineteen, Jason.”

His head twitches again. Now you know he’s heard you. “I’m two years older than you,” you reason. “You’re nineteen.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Why did you let me go?”

Your eyebrows scrunch and unscrunch. Another wave of electricity shocks down your body, but this time it’s because his voice sounded more like his own. You could hear it under the layers of metal and distortion. But option one is to respond to his question by pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. That seems like it’s for the best.

“You were just a kid,” you tell him honestly. He silently presses you on. “And I just- I looked at you and I…” I really liked you, kid. Best night I had in years. Made me smile. God, you had to stop working with so many other Gotham city villains just for making jokes about the kid. “You were fifteen,” you say, looking away. “Just a kid.”

Jason watches you. Again, your head turns so you look out the window. He would’ve expected that to be the end of it, but you continue. “Why didn’t you turn me in?”

Jason’s about to pretend to not know what you’re talking about, because it seems like it’s for the best that way. But then he remembers you can’t see anything through his helmet. “What’re you talking about?” he gruffs.

“You saw my face in that warehouse,” you press. “If you had told Batman, I would’ve been to jail. Maybe Arkham. But that never happened. So why didn’t you tell him?”

I was obsessed with you, Jason’s mind screams. In love with you! It hisses, which makes Jason cringe. “Guess you were a kid too.” That’s right. You were seventeen back then. What is that? Last year of high school? You balanced a criminal career and the required education for a minor at the same time. Where were your parents during this?

Jason bites down on his lip hard. Parents. Should shut up about that, probably.

“I’m uh,” you bite your lip and then lick it. “I’m sorry for pushing you. On the roof.”

He shifts. “It’s nothing.”

You turn back to the window. Your arms uncross from atop the table and go to rest in your lap. This close and this still, Jason can make out all the details in your suit. It’s impressive. Kevlar and rubber and plastic, the Riddler had told him. Not the gloves. That’s metal and plastic. 

“So,” Jason decides. “How do you that?” Your brows crease in confusion. He tries to do the finger motions he’d down before, which makes you cringe. “The mirroring. And the fighting and the…” he goes through the motions again. “It in your helmet?”

Your confusion sinks away. A new expression washes over your face as you lean in. One finger reaches up, poking your temple and you smile softly. “Bat knowledge.”

Just then, the waitress saves the day. “Two cheeseburgers for the scary suit people!” she beams, setting the plates down. For a second, her breasts are pressed into each of your faces. Jason first, who does not move and you can’t see under the helmet. You bite back a snicker but instead seep a childish look. Then you’re next, and you can feel Jason’s silent laugh under his Arkham Knight suit as your eyes go wide. “Enjoy, dears!”

“Boobs,” you shiver. “Just got boobs in my face.” And then Jason watches you carefully pick up the burger in your dangerous gloves, and take a bite.

Indeed, for the first time that night, the man in front of you reaches up and pulls off his own helmet with a click. You watch it be taken into his large, veiny hands and passed to the edge of the table, against the wall of the window. Then your eyes wander up to his face, which makes you chew slower.

A strong face. Sharp jaw, perfectly in line nose. Lips always pulled into a scowl. Bright eyes with tired circles and scars across his skin. There’s a streak of white in his dark hair you hadn’t noticed at all before, though now it’s practically blaring you in the face. Jason Todd is very handsome. 

“What?” he says behind his burger, raising it to his lips but freezing before he can bite into it.

You shrug and focus again on your burger. You hear Jason bite into his own.

“I don’t have any money,” you tell him after a moment, swallowing down a bite.

“Me neither,” Jason answers. He nudges his head towards the window. “There’s an ATM across the street.” You nod in response.

A few bites in you speak again. The minutes have been filled with the noises of chewing and swallowing and yummy meat and cheese. “You ever heard of Mitski?”

Jason swallows his bite, which are bigger than yours. “What?”

“Mitski,” you repeat. “The singer?” Jason shakes his head. “You seem like you’d like her. My boyfriend hates her.”

Jason’s brows twitch.

“Why aren’t you with him?” he questions, taking another bite.

You roll your eyes. “Too expensive. He’s-”

“But he lives there.”

“He just didn’t offer,” you shrug. “I don’t have the money anyway. It’s fine.”

Jason cocks a brow. Your own boyfriend didn’t offer to get you out of this shithole?

You roll your eyes. “We haven’t talked in a long time okay? He’s busy. I’m busy.”

Both of Jason’s brows raise now, almost playfully. “Busy with what?”

You’d be offended if you weren’t busy trying to answer. What were you busy with? After you graduated, money went dry with university. It became less frequent after retiring from the Mockingbird mantle. Most of your jobs were minimum wage and short lived. You’re a bartender now, but not somewhere that’ll keep you going probably. Most days you sit around the apartment or run errands, sometimes hosting Ivy. Last time she’d been over, she’d given you a plant that had quickly died and spoke about Harley quite a bit. And Riddler obviously doesn’t come over anymore. Scarecrow had once but he’s off doing god only knows now. 

“Shut up,” you hiss. “What are you busy with?”

“Controlling crime in Gotham,” Jason takes a bite.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Well.”

“You know you didn’t have to ask me to do this,” you say. “You could’ve just asked someone else. There’s a lot of people in Gotham okay with child killing.”

“I wanted you,” Jason explains. He’s quick to speak again to keep you from thinking about his words. “You were the first person I thought of.”

You’re nearing the end of your burger. “How did you find me?”

Jason shrugs mid-chew. He’s almost done as well. “Riddler.”

“Gave me away that easy?”

“Yep.”

You chew your last bite. It was a good and hearty burger, the cheese melting perfectly against the patty and your tongue.

“You want anything else?” Jason asks.

You watch the street outside, eyes squinting on the ATM. “Jason,” you mutter. “Jason.”

✮ ✭ ✮

Three men snicker as they load up dark blue duffel bags. They’re slimey and smelly, like an old sewer. Money falls from the machine like a waterfall.

Their success doesn’t last long.

One of them comes in contact with the Mockingbird’s elbow and slams his head into a brick building. The other two are just inexplicably on the ground, incapacitated while the Arkham Knight stands overhead.

“Fuck,” you breathe through your helmet. “I missed this.”

Jason’s just picked up the duffel bag when the sudden sound of sirens blare through the air. It’s close. Too close.

“Well that’s no good,” you mutter. You turn to Jason, taking a sharp step forward. “Give it to me.”

His brows furrow under the mask.

“I’ll pay the waitress,” you say. “You run.”

Jason reaches behind his belt and shifts the weight of the bag into one hand. A gun appears- a small handgun. You duck down as he raises it at you, holding your head down as the BANG! rings through the air.

You stand back to your feet, bracing yourself at the sudden sight. The Arkham Knight charges you, but only to pick you up like you’re nothing and jump through the glass window he previously shot at. The adrenaline makes things hazy, but you can see the blue and red lights now. It doesn’t matter. The two of you fly across what turns out to be a pawn shop, burst through the back door and back room until you hit the cold outside air of Gotham again. Multiple doors slam shut behind you. You’re both out of breath and panting, and it’s raining again. This time in an alleyway.

But the cops won’t follow you out here.

It’s quiet besides the panting from you two. Jason has more endurance, you’re sure, but you can hear his breathing inside his helmet. He lets the duffel bag slip out of his grasp as you double over. “I did miss that,” you offer. “Running from the police.” The Arkham Knight just continues his breathing.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

✮ ✭ ✮

Two days after the incident, you enter your apartment lazily. Your keys are tossed onto the island counter before you wander through your mail. One of your letters is from Ed in Arkham, warning you about “some big guy asking about you”. A bit late for that now. You haven’t heard from Jason since that night.

It isn’t until you go to sit on your couch that you notice a large, nearly bursting open envelope. Your fingers stretch to reach it, examining it. No return address, but written in pen in sloppy letters is the word “Bird”. Luckily, it doesn’t feel like a bomb. It feels more soft but firm.

You open the envelope. Your breathing hitches, breath slowing when you see what’s inside. Then a smirk comes over your face.

Just then, dust falls from your shitty apartment ceiling.

✮ ✭ ✮

A week after the failed Tim Drake incident, a young man decides to pay a visit to your building. He is tall and strong, with raven hair laced with a white streak at the front. He frowns at everything, ducking his head to make himself smaller and less noticeable. He cares not for being perceived by other people. He’s well aware of how he looks.

The man’s knuckles tap against apartment 317. He shifts, looking back and forth. The man is quite attractive in is casual red hoodie and jeans, but he wants to be out of the open as soon as he can. After a moment, there is no response from inside.

He scrunches his brows and knocks again. When he takes a step closer, he can hear something from the inside. Music. A piano and drums and maybe an organ?

Jason twists the door knob with ease and steps ahead and inside. The apartment is completely and totally empty. The music becomes louder and more clear. It’s a female singer he doesn’t recognize.

Only the bones of the kitchen remain. Counters, cabinets, a sink, and an old fridge. There’s mold in the corner of the space. But in the middle of the floor where the couch and living room used to be is a cluster of things. Things meant for Jason Todd. 

The man eyes the pile for a few seconds. Then he sets towards it. The first thing he recognizes is a CD player with the volume turned all the way up. He still doesn’t know the song.

Besides the player is a suit he’s quite familiar with. It’s clunky, but folded as neatly as it can be given that it’s made of metal. On the top is the helmet that gives it away. The Arkham Knight suit. It sits on a dark duffel bag in front of a small white piece of paper with the promise of ink inside. Jason decides to open that first.

You’re coming back… and it’s the end of the world…

Haha! I knew you’d show up!

Jason nearly rolls his eyes at the first sentence.

Thanks for the money. I know it was you. Thanks for the fun night too. Sorry about hitting your balls. They felt really big if that makes you feel better.

It didn’t.

I was thinking of Metropolis, but what do you know, me and the boy toy decided it might be better to hold off on it. I got a bit of dirt on the kid by the way. You’ll find it on the back of this paper. Oh and I hope you like the Mitski soundtrack. I bet Drake’s the kind too. I’m going to keep the Mockingbird suit if you don’t mind. I guess our night of fun kinda reignited an old flame. Don’t even think about coming after me.

Son of a bitch, Jason internally screams.

I have a gift for you though. You get the Arkham Knight. You look good in it. And a little something extra in the bag by the way. 

Love, Mockingbird.

I just need a quiet place… where I can scream, how I love you…

Indeed, inside the duffel bag Jason Todd finds some cash and red fabric with an R emblem over the chest. He doesn’t need to pull the rest out to understand what it is. He decides not to question how you got his old Robin suit or when, but lets himself smile a bit, his chest expanding with his breath. It’s a real smile too. 

You’ve given Jason everything he needs to go after Tim Drake himself.

✮ ✭ ✮

I hope I’ve ruined everyone’s day. You think I would let the reader and Jason be happy together? You absolute baffoon. Maybe I’ll make a part three for gits and shiggles though. I’m not sure about this one. Definitely more based around their interactions than the drama unlike the first one. It was fun though. I hit the paragraph limit. I think I did a good job with the chemistry. I do apologize for giving the reader a real set in stone age though. I don’t like to to that because I think it takes away the point of having a ‘reader’. Also if you’re vegetarian please just eat a cheeseburger it’s so good y’all are weird. Oh and fun fact I just got a Red Hood tattoo on Saturday! Look at me go!

Tagging everyone who asked for a part ii: @yunho-leeknow @fyowyn-writes @martianmilfhunter @beardedfandiplomatprofessor

[mydarlingbat]

Batman: Gotham County Line #1

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

Part 27: With Friends Like These

Story summary: They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they're reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they've both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan's side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Word count: 1556

Sorry it’s been so long! I’m a full time employee again, so it’s been hard to find the time to actually sit down and work on anything. Plus, we’re getting to the end of TMPOtB! Make sure to keep an eye out for the sequel Why I Do What I Do, and I hope you enjoy!

It had been four weeks. Two since ex-warden Sharpe had disappointed them. Regular police had begun to avoid them, and they had amassed a new following of goons. Even found a semi-permanent hideout.

Though, for all of their success, Jonathan had begun to sink lower and lower into himself. In fact, more and more often, he preferred to let Scarecrow be in charge. The only sure-fire way to keep him around for more than two hours together was when more toxin needed to be made.

At first, Scarecrow had been thrilled to be in charge. He had gotten quite a kick from going on sprees, terrorizing the public, especially if it might help them find Elianna. Jonathan wanted to find her for sentimental reasons, but Scarecrow?

Scarecrow wanted her back for possessive reasons. But, if he thought about it, he supposed the history behind their motivations was the same—companionship, kindness, loyalty. Jonathan seemed to crave it, but only from her.

But the straw man felt that it was something they were entitled to after all those years of consistency from her. Oh, he cared for her wellbeing, sure, but only because no one else would give them anything. As such, no one would ever be allowed to lay a hand on her again. But, more than anything, he craved attention, and despite Jonathan's endless warnings not to give it to him, El had always satisfied that need with a strange sense of fulfillment. The world owed them something, and she was the only person who would give them anything.

She was theirs.

So, when after weeks of rampage and fearmongering had yielded no results, Scarecrow found himself in a similar stupor to Jonathan, although it affected him differently. He seemed forever bored, irritated, and volatile.

It wasn't just Jonathan and Scarecrow who were affected by Elianna's absence either. The goons that had flocked to them (some out of fear, some out of necessity, some out of ambition) had very quickly come to regret the decision. Violent outbursts were often expected, and the men had had to take measures in order to keep themselves out of the line of fire.

Regardless, it was becoming more clear day by day that the longer El remained unaccounted for, nobody would last very long.

So when one day a young blonde tentatively approached the base of operations, folder in hand, asking for "doctah Crane," claiming to have an idea for where to find the elusive woman, Axel was more than happy to tell his men to stand down and let her through.

"He's upstairs, but it ain't the doctor, so don't call him that," he advised. "I'll take you up and stay in the room with you, but you gotta just give him the file and get out." The blonde nodded, a sad look on her face. "Did you know him before?"

"Yeah. We worked together at the Asylum. We weren't friendly or nothin', but he was always polite. I was—am, friends with El. I want her back too, so I started askin' my friends from med school to keep an eye out. So when I got this, I thought the best way to get her back was to bring it here." Axel nodded.

"Alright, well let me take a look. If it doesn't look good to him, he's gonna get angry and that won't be good for any of us." The blonde nodded and handed over the folder with the file inside.

Some of the information had been redacted (for legal reasons, no doubt) but as Axel scanned the paper, he felt a weight being slowly lifted.

Patient name [REDACTED]. Female, 30 years old, red hair, green eyes. Transferred to [REDACTED] from Gotham County General. Admitted with an unknown substance present which affected brain function. Severe injuries to full body. The patient was detoxed and consented to a medically-induced coma in order to treat mild trauma to the brain.

Notes: Patient has made a swift recovery, but will likely be admitted to psych. Demonstates an unhealthy obsession with "scarecrow," which has caused multiple outbursts against personnel.

The name of whoever had provided this information had been blacked out, but it seemed likely that this information was what they had been looking for. Looking up from the file, Axel was met with big blue eyes staring up at him hopefully.

"Alright, this looks good," he sighed, and the blonde was visibly relieved. "Come on, you should be the one to give this to him," he handed back the folder and jerked his head for her to follow. "You know where she's at, right? That information was taken out." She bobbed her head, anxiously rubbing her thumb over the spine of her folder.

"Yeah, the girl that sent this to me had her place of work listed on her Facebook."

"Good."

The pair walked together through the previously abandoned building, up two flights of stairs and down a series of halls.

"Do you all live here?" The young doctor asked, gazing around the environment as they walked.

"Sort of. All of us take shifts staying in groups here to keep trespassers out. The big man," here, Axel pointed to the door at the end of the hallway as they approached, "has a place in the Narrows so that he doesn't have to stay if he doesn't want. Between the two of us, it's a much better gig when he's not around." She nodded in agreement. Based on the news reports, that was to be expected.

Reaching the door, Axel held up a finger for the woman to wait as he knocked. "Boss? There's a woman here with some information. I looked it over, I think it's her." It was silent on the other side of the door for a moment before a muffled voice told them to come in.

Axel opened the door with a pointed look at the woman, letting her enter first.

The man sitting at the desk inside certainly looked like Jonathan, but it didn't take Harley long to notice the changes in him. Jonathan always kept himself clean-shaven and carried himself with an air of uprightness. Scarecrow didn't seem to share those concerns. Stubble had been allowed to grow along his jaw, and he was slouched into his chair like he was bored.

When he caught sight of her, there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes before a lackluster grin broke over his face. "Doctor Quinzel, I don't think we've been formally introduced." The sentence was accompanied by what was surely meant to be an intimidating chuckle. He just didn't have the energy.

"Scarecrow," she greeted, unable to help the pity that crept into her heart. "I...I guess I'll just get right down to business. I know you're looking for El, and you haven't been able to find her in the city, so I reached out to some people that I know who work in neighboring cities, and I think I found her." She stepped forward, folder outstretched for him to take.

He frowned, skeptical of the information, but took the folio anyway with a telling look at Axel: if this isn't her, you're the one to face the consequences.

But scanning the memo through narrowed eyes, his attitude slowly changed. Suddenly, there was no way that it wasn't her, and a sudden urgency took over everything as he stood.

"Where." Not a question, a demand. Harley quickly gave him the city and hospital, startled by the abrupt turnaround. "Good," seeming to briefly forget that she was even there, he turned to Axel with a sense of urgency. "Get our best boys ready, we're going now." The thug nodded and began to pull Harley out of the room before the voice stopped them again. "Harley," it barked, and the blonde's head swiveled to look at him again. "You know what's going to happen to that hospital. To your friend that works there."

"Yes, I do." She had known from the beginning. It had been so many years since she had even thought about the other woman, and they hadn't been close to begin with. To be perfectly honest, Harley wasn't even sure if she had ever liked her to begin with.

It made it easier to make this decision, although realizing that she even could make that decision had been surprising.

Scarecrow seemed to understand and went back to studying the file further, leaving the pair to leave the room, closing the door behind them.

"You did good, doc," Axel assured the blonde as they retreated down the hall. "But if it isn't her somehow..."

"I know," Harley gulped. She had seen plenty on the news of what happened to people who let Scarecrow down in this particular search.

Sensing the woman's apprehension, Axel spoke again. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. Who else could that be, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." She nodded. "I'm gonna get outta your hair now. Good luck, all of you. bring her home, yeah?"

"You got it, doc."

With that, Harley left and Axel went about rounding up the troops. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the havoc they were about to wreck upon the unsuspecting hospital, but ultimately having El back would be best for everyone involved.

For everyone's sake, it'd better be our girl.