Chapter Text
The first time it happens isn't too long after Jason had called a truce (sort of) with the family. As in, maybe a month had passed since he'd helped out on a case and he hadn't shot at Nightwing the last time they'd "hung out" in uniform.
"Hung out" being a loose phrase for his older brother bringing him coffee on a stakeout and then pestering him for the next three hours. It hadn't been horrible, Jason would admit later. Even if he'd complained the whole time.
But, then again, Dick Grayson is aggressive in his love of people and Jason's rapidly realizing he counts in the group labeled "Dick's Family" whether he likes it or not. Really, there's no getting rid of him short of dying again (which Jason's not inclined to do, no matter how much he jokes). Jason's not particularly happy about this development- but he doesn't hate it either.
Thing is, he'd missed his brother. As much as coming back to Gotham had been a colossal dumpster fire... Dick hasn't lumped himself into Bruce's efforts to make amends. He's a free agent on the matter- and subsequently a pain in Jason's ass. But they'd been close before he'd died, so Jason could survive a couple of interrupted stake-outs if it was from his sibling.
Tim on the other hand, does not have good credit in Jason's books. Sure, he'd stopped trying to off the pretender, and maybe he'd helped the kid on their last case, but that didn't make them friends, let alone brothers. He's not above kneecapping the kid if he showed up in Crime Alley unsupervised. Tenuous truce an ally did not make.
They don't actvely pick fights anymore, but Batman can still put a rifle up his ass and Robin needs to stay the hell away from him. Nightwing can show up with donuts and coffee, that's... sort of fine, and Jason's sticking to that rule book.
Apparently no one else got the memo.
Robin rounds the corner on Crime Alley where Jason happens to be strolling through that night. He takes one look at the Red Hood and bee lines for him.
Jason has an arm up to clothesline the kid, but Robin ducks right under and slips behind him. Jason fully expects an attack from the back. So much for a truce, he hisses in his head- but the blow doesn't come. Even as he whirls to deck the kid, the smaller vigilante doesn't strike.
Jason rounds on him and finds Robin wide eyed and gasping. Gasping like he'd sprinted for all he was worth for several blocks. That gives Jason pause, but only just.
If Robin was stupid enough to run headlong into the Red Hood's territory, headlong into the Red Hood himself, after expressly being told to stay out, he isn't getting a pass. Someone needs to teach him some self preservation- right after Jason gets some explanation. Or, at least, an acknowledgement of broken boundaries.
(He'd like plausible reasoning for when Dick gives him the disproving lecture and angry spiel. Not that he's going to admit he doesn't really want to lose his big brother's visits)
"I thought I warned you what would happen if I caught you out here, Robin." Red Hood snarls down.
Jason's well aware how terrifying he is staring down at the kid like this
Robin's domino lenses blow huge looking back up at him. Almost as if it's just dawning on him who he's run into. A tremor runs through him like a leaf in the wind and he swallows hard to catch his voice. "You were the only one I could think of." He manages around shuddering gasps.
The fuck is that supposed to mean?
Jason's about to demand as much when another set of heavy footsteps enter their alley. He snaps around to find some dude (huge dude, built like Bruce but all nasty edges and oozing slime) waltzing into the space like the fucking Red Hood isn't fifteen feet away and armed to the teeth. He slows to a stop and peers around Jason as if trying to find-
Oh. Oh.
Well wasn't that dumb, Robin.
He has half a mind to shove the kid over and let him figure out why late-night adventures alone are a bad idea. Only half a mind though. For whatever reason, the other half of his brain is insisting this actually is a child and he has rules.
Slime grins at him. "Sorry to bother you, he and I have some unfinished business."
Robin's breathing hitches behind him. The sound hitches something in Jason's own gut. What had Robin said a moment ago?
"What kind of business?" Jason asks, nonchalant through the modulator on his helmet.
The man shrugs. "Eh, intimate sort of business."
Jason doesn't like how casual this guy is being about what he's saying. At all. He cocks his head. "You think I'll just hand him over?"
"You hate bats and birds as much as the rest of us." Slime scoffs, taking a few steps forwards.
False. Jason likes one bird (not that he'd admit it). Not this bird, granted, but Slime is either completely off his rocker or the Red Hood hadn't been clear on the rules of his territory.
Nevertheless, he's playing the man for a moment. Just to be sure throwing the kid to the wolves truly isn't an option.
"I might," Jason admits. It's more for Robin's continued panic than any real conversation. The tactic works. The kid's harsh breathing takes on a decidedly panicky note. "But I like to know what goes on in my territory."
Slime grins again. "I can be more, explicit if you like."
Jason does not like. Man's dense as hell if he thinks the Red Hood would just let him off with a kid. Especially off with a kid to do what he's insinuating. Heads filled duffle bags for that sort of shit. And the moron just openly admitted it. Not that Robin doesn't deserve to learn a life lesson, off on his own without supervision, but Jason draws the line at children, and his principles just got openly challenged. The Red Hood's known for upholding his principles.
Even (unfortunately) for his own replacement. When had that happened?
Hells, he's going to regret this.
Jason crosses his arms and steps more fully in front of Robin. Kid's tiny compared to his six foot, 225 pound frame. Tiny Tim supplies the part of his brain not filling with green rage.
"I thought I made it clear. No fucking touching kids in my territory."
Slime doesn't back down. "He's a bat."
Jason growls without looking back. "Hey bitty bird, how old are ya?"
Robin doesn't answer right away. Jason has to glare over his shoulder. The kid's transfixed between confusion and horror, Jason can tell, and it probably isn't helped by the dead gaze of his helmet and the threat from less than five minutes ago.
Robin collects himself though. Enough to get out "Fifteen."
Jason looks away and shrugs at Slime. "Sounds like a kid to me."
"Oh come on-"
Jason's got a gun trained on slimeball before he can take one angry step. "No kids."
Red Hood shoots Slime in the knee, blowing the joint to smithereens, and hell, that guy can scream. It won't kill him, but he's not chasing kids anymore. Ever, actually. That knee is wrecked beyond reason.
"Consider that a friendly warning."
He'd have capped him in the skull (prime example setting material) but he'd rather not traumatize the child behind him further.
Speaking of.
Jason turns around to Robin, who seems shocky enough from the whole situation to have an underlying problem. He snaps his fingers to get his attention. Robin startles violently before fixing his attention on Jason.
"Injuries?" Jason growls through his helmet.
Robin's mouth wordlessly forms a sentence before he manages a faint, "... nothing big."
"He touch you?" Jason prompts.
Robin's voice is only faintly stronger this time. "No, just... tried to. He cornered me, but I was faster and-"
Good enough for Jason. Consider his good deed done for the month. Dick isn't going to flay him alive the next time they meet. "I don't want details. Get out of my territory before I change my mind."
And Robin does, offering a faint "Thank you," as he scrambles away from Jason and Crime Alley, seemingly remembering they aren't friends and Jason could have just as well shot him as helped him. He does pause in leaving, though.
Robin kicks his pursuer in the gut as he passes. The sobbing pile of slime lets out a renewed howl.
Then Robin is gone, and Red Hood is left to wonder what this is going to do for tanking his reputation.