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There was nothing fun about following rumored sightings of Deathstroke to a crumbling warehouse at the docks. For one, nobody liked moldering waterfront buildings, at least not with the water in Gotham. For another, Jason had come to expect slightly more romantic (read: sexy) outings when Slade was around, along with some kind of advance notice. In fact, that was kind of the whole arrangement; as nice as surprise encounters could be when their paths crossed, Slade had never entered Gotham unannounced, and Jason knew better than to actively track Deathstroke on contracts.
So no, he was not enthused that instead of an invitation for hot meta-human sex, he was stuck following whispers from the spooked criminal element. This included even his own employees, who were usually highly loyal and motivated but were now too scared to do their jobs. (“Please, Boss, I heard Deathstroke’s camped out down there! You can’t expect me to fight off an indestructible mercenary!”)
If Slade didn't have a good explanation for this, Jason would not be helping him sneak back out of the city. Well okay, he would, but only because his 'family' meeting his mercenary fuck buddy was something to be avoided at all costs. Then again, it could be amusing to watch Deathstroke taunt and run circles around Batman…
Anyway, the fact that he hadn’t heard from Slade directly meant this was more likely to be business than pleasure. He and Slade had had a good thing going, and Jason could only hope he wasn’t about to find out what would happen when one of Deathstroke’s contracts clashed with Red Hood’s rules.
As much as Jason loved a dramatic entrance, that was best left for when he knew the situation inside. Surveillance required stealth, so he slid through a hole in the crumbling roof once he had identified the proper building. It turned out that clandestine meetings in otherwise abandoned areas tended to be less than subtle, and the light and noise coming from one building on the street rather clearly indicated where he should be heading. Slade was inside, fully kitted out, along with a bound figure. It looked like this was a contract, but Slade was pacing and clearly waiting for something. Maybe there were multiple targets?
“I can hear you, Hood. You aren’t all that stealthy when super-senses can hear the rafters creaking. Come join the party.”
“And here I was worried you were having fun without me.” Despite himself, Jason was feeling slightly mollified. Maybe Slade really was here for a hookup, or at least wanted to negotiate before working a contract in his territory. He dropped to the floor and immediately froze, because Deathstroke’s captive was the face that haunted Jason’s nightmares.
“Deathstroke. What. The fuck. Are you doing with Joker.” So help him, if this was some kind of plot, if Deathstroke or his employer wanted Joker for something... Well, he could never accept Slade working with the Clown Prince.
Jason had spent the past years making sure he never had to face the Joker. After his failed showdown with Bruce, he was ready to put an end to the clown himself, but the Bats expected it and devoted far more resources to protecting a mass murderer than they did anyone else in the city. By the time he was able to get close enough, his own comfort wasn’t worth bringing down the wrath of the Bats on the operation he had going, the good he was doing in the Alley. As long as Joker never got loose, Jason was willing to live in fear as long as he could continue protecting his people.
That didn’t mean the clown had carte blanche. If Joker was about to be a threat, Jason would end this, and Batman's sensibilities be damned. He pulled a gun each on Joker and Deathstroke.
“Hood. Jay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you.” With his empty hands up, Slade sounded sincere, more emotion in his voice than his usual wry humor, but Jason didn’t lower his weapons. “It’s a gift. For you. I want to kill him for you.”
That got Jason to drop both arms in shock. “What? You would…”
“I would,” Slade said, as though it were that simple.
“But are we… That feels serious.”
“I’d like us to be serious. What other gift could I give the crime boss who has everything? What could be enough to show my feelings?”
"Why not just tell me?" He had not been prepared for emotions tonight, for Slade to...what? Ask him to go steady or something? He certainly wasn’t ready to have this conversation in front of his own murderer. But now that he knew it wasn't a trap - and he trusted Slade enough to believe his explanation - the presence of 'the world's deadliest mercenary" made him feel far more protected than a bound and gagged Joker could threaten.
Slade had the decency to look chagrined at the question, and Jason realized a bit late that they had both become more emotive with each other than when the hookups started. "Sorry. I wanted it to be a surprise, but not to take the choice away from you."
"I know there are reasons you haven't done it yourself," he continued, "and I won't interfere with your plans. But I can take the heat for the job, if it'll keep Wayne off your back."
It wasn't a perfect solution, per se. Batman was so tied into knots with Joker at this point that any cause of death would likely cause Bruce to rage. But the thought of someone killing him for Jason, for all the victims who deserved to feel safe… fuck, it was what he'd always wanted. He was hardly a good person, and he certainly wasn't selfless enough to turn down the offer.
"Heh hehaHAhahe." Joker had managed to remove his gag while they weren't looking, and he chose to laugh at his own fate. "Ya know, there's nothing wrong with flowers or chocolates! But if lil ol' me is what Robin’s heart desi–" The edge of a sword cut him off, slicing cleanly through his throat.
Slade had locked eyes with Jason as soon as the laughter started, and a single nod gave him all the permission he needed. He could give Jay the gift of safety, which his bloody revenant had deserved and been denied for so many years. Jason, for once, enjoyed the sight of someone choking on blood without reliving his own experience. Joker’s chest shook as he tried to laugh through a severed windpipe, before finally dying from the same injury Bruce had nearly given Jason.
“Thank you,” breathed Jason, relaxing into Slade’s blood splattered arms. They clutched at each other, both content with the comfort and love the other could provide.
><><><
Their newly formalized relationship put a spring in Jason’s step, but there was little practical change. Slade still went where contracts took him, while Jason spent most of his time in Gotham or on occasional forays with the Outlaws, but now they both made more of an effort to be in the same city. Even when Slade was away, Jason’s mood had never been higher. His nightmares and flashbacks were less frequent, though not eliminated, and it was clear how much stress he had carried just from constantly fearing his own murderer.
Not even Batman’s glares and accusation could sour his cheer, though Bruce certainly gave it his best shot. Someone must have witnessed Red Hood at the crime scene, because soon enough the whole city knew. That circumstantial evidence was enough to ensure Batman would never quite believe that it wasn't Jason calling the shots. After years of letting the clown live for the sake of peace in the family, he should have known he couldn’t even get away with letting someone else do the deed.
Dick also looked upset at times, though that may have had more to do with his little brother fraternizing with Deathstroke, not that Jason was going to flaunt his relationship status. At least Damian and Tim seemed ambivalent. Cass glared at him occasionally, but Duke acted almost… relieved? Huh, Jason should probably start paying attention to the new kids' backstories.
Some people in the city even organized a parade with Red Hood and Deathstroke decorations, which had him smiling and sending pictures to Slade.
><><><
Unfortunately, the Joker’s death didn’t mean an end to all of Gotham’s clown-based problems. There were a few scares when bombs of Joker Venom were discovered in the city, but all evidence pointed to them having been planted before his death and never armed. There was also the expected amount of shuffling among the remaining rogues: some vying for the Joker’s vacated position, others laying low for fear they would be next in Hood’s or Deathstroke’s crosshairs.
Just as the city seemed to be settling into its new normal, the most worrying development came in the form of outsiders digging up bad memories. Word started to spread in nervous whispers: someone had come to town asking about Joker, looking into his former schemes and hideouts, dredging up things best left in the past. Now there was suspicious activity in an old Amusement Mile attraction, and Red Hood had to take care of it before Batman got stuck in the same twisted cycle with some Joker wannabes.
It quickly became apparent, once he slipped into the semi-abandoned funhouse, that whoever was behind this didn’t seriously plan to replace Joker. Instead of goons, he caught brief glimpses of Shadows from the League, who must have been actively letting themselves be seen. It was something of a relief, knowing that no Joker-zealots were following in the clown’s footsteps, but any plan from Ra’s was likely to be headache-inducing on its own.
The assassins led him to the center of activity, where the apparent leader was fortunately not Ra’s or one of his particularly recognizable followers. She had the stylized upper face mask and individual crest marking her as more autonomous than the rank and file assassins. Jason thought he might recognize the costume from his own time with the League, but not enough that she was likely to have been one of his trainers or tormentors.
But there was no point hiding out, not if the minions clearly led him to this room, so Jason obliged by strolling confidently through the door. "If you're trying to get my attention, there are much easier ways. Try making an appointment," he announced himself. The anonymous minions melted away at his presence, a pretense at privacy even as they were no doubt ready to attack him.
“Lord Hood!” greeted the leader, simultaneously acting as if they were old friends and as if he held much more authority with the Demon than he really did. He could only hope this was an attempt to distract him before a fight, rather than one of the offshoot cults that saw Jason as ‘blessed’ by the Lazarus Pit.
“I would never insult your authority by demanding an unearned audience.” Oh, she was still doing the flattery thing. Great. “But now that you’re here–” as though she hadn’t arranged it all specifically to draw him in “–I’d hoped to offer a…proposal of sorts.”
“Thanks but no thanks. I’m not in the market for a sidekick, and frankly I think our costumes would clash.” The woman was still wearing her mask, so Jason would just have to imagine the annoyed look she would make at the ‘sidekick’ comment. A brief tensing of her muscles certainly indicated she was displeased, but she maintained the politician’s smile.
"I was thinking I could fill a more skilled role." Her grin was sharp. "You need someone to manage your responsibilities to the League. It is no secret that you care little for the position, but your absence weakens Lady Talia’s stance as well."
Yeah, no. Jason was not handing authority over to a stranger, and there was no way Talia would be on board. Jason's own title was little more than ceremonial - something like the League's version of adoption, and a way to prevent Ra's coming after him for Talia’s little stunt with the pit. It was hardly because she needed more underlings or wanted to give away responsibilities. There was even nominally a position in her own court for Damian, separate from Ra's, if the kid was ever disillusioned with his dad, and she had no trouble keeping that role empty as well.
"I'm pretty sure Talia’s got it covered, and this 'deal' doesn't seem to benefit me that much," he retorted.
"My apologies, I don't intend to dishonor you with a one-sided deal! In addition to representing your interests in League affairs, merging our names and bloodlines would provide financial benefits. I can offer…"
Jason stopped paying attention as she listed the number of assassins she could put under his command and the income he could expect. This was getting out of hand.
"You're suggesting, what, a political marriage?" That was common enough in the League, given Ra's' rather outdated perspective, but Jason could hardly fathom why she would expect him to accept. "Why would I ever trust you?"
"Of course! I brought an offering, to prove that I plan to take your enemies as my own." A sweep of her hand sent several underlings scurrying towards a curtain. The dusty velvet was swept aside to reveal an array of funhouse mirrors, all facing a kneeling captive.
Jason stared incredulously at the slumped figure. Bleached skin. Green hair. Impossibly breathing. "How could you possibly think bringing that bastard back to life would win me over? "
The masked idiot actually had the audacity to sound confused. "Well I'm going to kill him again, obviously. It's just a temporary reanimation, anyway - really more symbolic. Besides, the Bat resurrected him too, and you seem close enough to that guy."
"What?" he ground out, almost scared to hear more. He and Bruce couldn’t be in the same room since Joker was killed; this would be the final nail in the coffin (heh) of any hope for reconciliation.
She seemed pleased to be getting on with her bizarre show, standing up straighter and putting on her showman's voice again. "Everyone knows a proper romantic overture must include the destruction of the intended's enemies. Since your greatest foe was already dead, I had to–"
"Not that! The part about Batman, what did you mean?" The corpse clown apparently found this incredibly amusing, even though his eyes weren’t properly tracking the activity in the room and he couldn’t seem to form words. The laughter was straight out of Jason’s nightmares, but somehow no longer held the same terror.
A faint grimace passed over the woman’s face, apparently frustrated that he was not more interested in her fucking business pitch, but she recovered quickly. "Well, yes, Batman has revived or resurrected the Joker at least twice, though I hardly keep tabs on Gotham business." She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "You and I have much broader interests, of course - that’s why this will be mutually beneficial. Though I can say that the Demon's Heir was most displeased with her beloved when he used one of the pits for the Joker. I believe that was after you had gained her favor."
Jason had bigger fish to fry. He put a bullet between Joker's eyes, then thought again. How had she even had access to the body? Just to be sure, he manifested an All-Blade and removed the head with one blow. He'd take that with him until he could dispose of it properly.
"Sorry, I'm just not interested. No more courting gifts, and Joker is off limits. Take it up with Ra’s or Talia if you want a promotion." Stomping his boots and slamming the heavy door on his way out may have been immature, but he had some rage to burn off before he dealt with Bruce.
><><><
Honestly, Jason was quite pleased with how he'd managed the Batman issue. That asshole was always grunting and growling about Gotham being "his" city, so Jason took that away from him. The Batdouche could still bandy about in space with his Justice League if he wanted, but now any sign of the Bat near Gotham and the city would likely riot.
Finding hard evidence of Batman resurrecting Joker hadn't been easy. Oh sure, he could find out about it quick enough, now that he knew to look, but proving it to the public took a bit more effort. The work paid off, though, and now pretty much everyone in Gotham was baying for Batman’s blood. The city had not cared about human rights or civil liberties when Batman first began beating his suspects into confessing, and she certainly wouldn't fall prey to moralizing arguments in defense of one of her mass murderers.
There was even some outcry from outside of Gotham - Joker had been an international terrorist as well as domestic, after all. The revelation that Batman had been actively keeping Joker alive during that reign of terror had very nearly created a diplomatic crisis.
More important was the apparent life saving magic that Batman had used for Joker. People were asking why this wasn't available widespread. There was outrage that it hadn't been used for everyone from world leaders and activists to cancer patients to someone's favorite celebrity. It seemed anyone and everyone to have died recently was being held up as more deserving than Joker.
Bruce Wayne might have kept his welcome in the city, if Batman hadn't tried to use his alter ego to sway public opinion. The spectacle of Brucie's press conference praising Batman, saying he felt safe knowing the city’s vigilante wouldn't kill indiscriminately, launched yet another furor (as well as some garbage thrown at his face).
Of course, Dick also filled the Cave (and various safe houses) with his "righteous" indignation, trying to insist that they had to protect every citizen, even Joker, but he eventually gave in upon seeing how betrayed the city felt. For his part, Jason had been hurt that Dick knew about Batman reviving the clown, had been there on one occasion. Past the initial rage, though, he could acknowledge that his big brother (almost) killing Joker did make him feel better. Despite the yelling from both sides, Jason was hopeful they could be family again, especially without the shadow of Bruce looming over them.
Damian was unimpressed with the revelations about his father. Apparently he had always known, which explained some of his disdain anytime Hood agreed to work with the bat team.
("It was hardly a secret. Mother was nearly incandescent with rage at the time, though I suppose you were still shambling around as a brainless corpse back then." Jason, as a good big brother, put the little shit in a headlock for that. "Regardless, you can’t blame me if you didn't research properly before returning to Gotham. Though I suppose it is better to be simply incompetent than to have so little self worth.")
Meanwhile, Tim and Jason got some sibling bonding done while blowing up Joker's head. And then dissolving the remaining bits in acid. The clown would not be coming back from that .
><><><
A Gotham without Joker or Bruce was proving to be just what Jason had needed, though he was less sure about the rest of the bat cult. Dick had a pinched expression every time he entered the cave or watched the news. Fortunately - well, less so for Dick, but Jason found it hilarious - his first patrol in the batsuit resulted in quite a bit of rage from anyone he tried to save. He stuck to Nightwing after that, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Damian was thrilled to be back under Dick's tutelage, though he still slipped up with occasional 'blood son' comments. The whole team made sure to provide support for Duke, their next youngest member, but he was primarily seeking advice from Flash now. After all, Barry had much more experience with daytime crime and was all-around proving to be a better mentor.
The lack of Joker obviously couldn't solve everything, but it helped. Crime fighting was dangerous no matter what, and there were still plenty of villains. The family all had bad experiences with other Rogues, enough to cause nightmares or even flashbacks, but none had caused as much personal trauma as Joker. Without him, keeping peace and fighting crime could almost be fun again, with more games of rooftop tag and friendly chatter on comms. The city still feared Arkham breakouts, the Asylum itself looming as a reminder of all the other threats to the city, but the birds - never bats - were a symbol of hope again.
So far Jason had had a productive evening of outmaneuvering some upstart gangs, and it was shaping up to be a productive night of stopping muggers and rapists. What could he say, he enjoyed his work. After interrupting an assault - the victim fled, as did the perp once disarmed - he was on his way uptown when he heard some kind of commotion and weapon fire coming from an abandoned video rental. Either squatters were having a falling out or it was the headquarters for some new criminal enterprise - regardless, Red Hood would have to check whether it warranted his involvement.
As it turned out, there was a third option he hadn’t anticipated. Inside was a bipedal insectoid - which in Gotham could just as easily be mutant as alien - standing over the corpse of Carmine fucking Falcone. Jason wasn’t going to lose any sleep over Falcone’s death, aside from all the extra work it would create for him, but he couldn’t ignore someone taking a hit on one of his enemies. Drawing a gun but not aiming, he called out, “Can I fuckin’ help you?”
“Ah, Red Hood. I am pleased you accepted the invitation.” The person turned in a flurry of segmented limbs. Their voice was mechanically flat, and the way it echoed slightly suggested an automated translation system. Convenient, at least. With a gesture to the corpse, they asked “I hope the sacrifice is to your liking?”
“Why don’t you start by explaining why you sacrificed the Falcone boss to me.”
“I see, you did not expect me to be aware of your local customs.” Shiny plates on their face rippled as they spoke, but other than that Jason couldn’t identify a mouth. They drew themself up to a taller stance, as though giving a report or standing at attention. “All information gathered since arrival indicates that you would be best suited for the job. It is said that you require a sacrifice in order to secure an audience, and that this human is currently a threat to you. If this offering is acceptable, I wish to discuss business.”
Great, this was probably just the start of more people trying to kill for him. At this rate it would start diluting the Red Hood brand. Since this one at least didn’t seem immediately hostile to him, and Jason wasn’t sure he could get a killing shot through the carapace even if he wanted, he decided he could stand to hear more. “Go on and pitch the job, then we can deal with Falcone.”
It turned out the guy was an alien - calling himself Alan, and Jason had no idea if that was a translation, or a common name on his planet, or an alias while on Earth - who tracked some missing kids from his home all the way here. Apparently, after landing he tried to find them himself but was only able to follow the signal from the spaceship, not the kids themselves. Word on the street was that Red Hood made it his business to demolish kidnapping schemes, so Alan came to him next. And didn’t that just speak to Gotham as a shithole, that a previously unknown species of alien walked around asking questions without causing a stir.
Word on the street was also that Red Hood would just as soon shoot clients on sight as take a job, so it was better to butter him up with a sacrifice. Not that it made any sense, since Hood clearly brokered deals and met with informants without killing them, but he could only assume this started either with Slade killing Joker or with the creepy assassin proposal. He really had to nip this in the bud.
And now he had one dead mafia head, several months before he was ready to take over. Jason had extensive plans for taking out the Falcone family without creating a power vacuum. His employees already had their orders for it, everyone from the lieutenants who sat in planning meetings to the lowest hired guns making inroads on Carmine's territory. Killing the leader now was only going to cause chaos, and he would have been willing to save the kids anyway!
Alan picked up on his displeasure but didn’t bother asking about why. Instead, and seemingly more assured now that he had Hood’s agreement to help, he cheerfully drew his own conclusions. “Of course, my apologies for not waiting for your arrival before killing him. I feared you would take it as a lack of conviction on my part, but I see why you would wish to face your own enemies. I will ensure that this is added to the legends on your behalf.”
Eh, Jason would take that as a win, he could deal with the rumor mill after the baby aliens were rescued.