Chapter Text
" Lurks in Shadows. Hides in the dark. Simon. Simon. Simon Dark.
If you're good he'll stay away. If you're bad he'll make you pay.
Lurks in Shadows. Hides in the dark.
Simon. Simon. Simon Dark. "
JASON'S APARTMENT—CRIME ALLEY, GOTHAM
Jason woke up in a haze. He reached for his phone, which was buzzing incessantly from wherever it was. It had been around 12 hours, give or take since he’d gotten back to Gotham. He’d been out on a mission with the Outlaws, crashing as soon as he’d somehow managed to reach his bed in full gear––he’d been run ragged. The room was dark. In the time he’d slept dark storm clouds had rolled in, casting the city in a shadow darker than its usual fog.
“One day, that’s all I’m asking.” Jason grumbled. It was the burner phone he used to contact his crew. He picked up. “What?”
“We got a bit of an issue. Our shipment got disrupted, the guys are saying it was some kinda fear toxin.” Jason resisted the urge so sigh heavily. He was too tired for this crap.
“So? You all got masks. Not like you ‘aven’t dealt with that before.” Jason sat up, letting his eyes fully adjust to the darkness of the room. The voice on the other end was muffled, like they were shouting orders to someone else in the background. He shuffled around the room, shedding his gear in exchange for more casual clothes.
“That’s the thing boss, they didn’t work. Some of ‘em just started going haywire, full on psycho. Attackin’ everyone.”
Weird . He hadn’t been hearing anything about Scarecrow lately. Jason was pretty sure that he was back in Arkham, so then, maybe someone was using his work. It happened more often than you’d think––and in turn the next time Scarecrow would escape he’d up the ante.
“Any casualties?”
“Just a few, rest of ‘em tied up.”
Atleast some of his guys had brains. Well, some of them at least.
“Alright. Look into it, I’ll do some research on my end.”
“Right’o Boss.”
SACRED MARTYR CHURCH—THE VILLAGE, GOTHAM
Simon sat on the crumbling walls of the church.
He was bored.
There were still a few hours until Rachel would be out of class, and after taking down Geo Populus just a few months before, the village had gone back to its unusual sense of calm. He got up and brushed himself off, turning to the wall. He gave the bricks a quick test before finding a grip and clambering up until he was at the tallest point of the dilapidated building. Simon stood there for a while, admiring the view of Gotham it gave him. He could see Blackgate Penitentiary in the distance, standing out against the fog that had covered the city for the day.
“Hey hon.” Simon looked down to where he was sitting earlier, finding a cat—Suzy, staring up at him. She was one of his familiars, along with Gaius and Marty. He didn’t know where the other two were right now.
“Hi Suzy.” Simon leaned over the edge.
“How’re doin’?”
“Umm… Okay? I dunno.” He shrugged. Simon slid down to where Suzy was, offering her his hand to climb up onto his shoulders. Suzy found her way up, settling before Simon jumped down to the ground.
“You ‘dunno.’”
“Nothing’s happened.”
“Well, I guess that’s true. With Geo Populus bein’ gone, and the rogues gallery never coming out this far… crime is pretty rare.” Suzy paced the ledge. “You’ve only been back in the Village what, 4 days? Shouldn’t that be good?”
“I guess. Tom says I should’ve stayed with Gus, but––”
“The Village feels like home?”
“Yeah.” Simon nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“The mayor of Gotham never rests.”
“...I still don’t get that.” Simon muttered. Suzy laughed––or as close to as a familiar could. It was an odd sound, but it brought comfort. Simon liked Suzy’s company, she was nice, always having advice for a boy made of 18 others. The two of them wandered for a while, sticking to the roofs and shadows of the Village, until Simon stopped in front of the local GCPD precinct.
<“Tom.”> Simon’s voice echoed in Tom’s head as he tapped on the window of Tom’s office, causing him to turn so fast that he fell out of his chair.
“Fuck—” Tom pushed himself off the floor, getting up to open the window. If there was one thing Tom hated, it was when Simon would appear out of nowhere—the mask still freaked Tom out sometimes. “Could you not just use your voice?” The man grumbled. Simon didn’t respond, instead slipping inside, admiring the room.
He’d only been once before when he’d left Eddie the Machete on Tom’s desk. The rest of the precinct was quiet, which was probably Simon’s saving grace since he still didn’t know what he was classified as. Hero? Rogue? Vigilante? Just a guy?
“Why are you even here? If anyone else saw you they’d—” Tom paused as a knock at the door cut him off. The door opened before he could respond.
“Tom, there’s something you should…” Beth stepped into the office, her eyes falling on Simon. “Oh. Hi Simon. Did I interrupt some brotherly bonding?”
“Hi, Beth.”
“As I was saying, you should hear this too,” Beth motioned to Simon. “I got a call from another ME from downtown, apparently there’s been some kind of scarecrow fear toxin going around… but from how he described it sounded all hell of a lot more like Mendo Soap.”
“That shouldn’t be possible.” Tom said. “We took down Geo Populus. Dall Moss is dead .” He ran a hand through his hair, a deep frown settling across his face.
“Yes, well this is Gotham. Someone probably just ended up with a shipment that was never sold.” Beth shrugged.
“That’s still bad.” Tom motioned. The three of them stood in an awkward silence, each thinking about the implications and consequences of not only Mendo Soap being sold, but the possibility of Geo Populus somehow reappearing. Tom was right. There were gods knows how many secret societies in Gotham, but the previous had gotten shockingly close to forever impacting the city. Batman could only do so much.
“I can do it.” Simon asserted. “I’ll track it down.” The other looked at him, questioning looks on their faces.
“Are you sure?” “Do you really want to head further into Gotham?” Tom and Beth spoke over each other. Suzy reappeared from wherever she’d been.
“He can handle it, he’ll be jus’ fine.” Suzy said. Beth jumped at the sudden voice, Tom raising an eyebrow in turn.
“Well I can’t stop you. Just keep me updated.” Tom sighed.
BOWERY OUTSKIRTS––GOTHAM
The sun had just sunk behind the horizon by the time Simon had made it to the Bowery. He’d followed the lead that Beth had given him. From what he understood there was a shipping crate docked by the East Docks out by Crime Alley––Something about Red Hood and an exchange, Simon wasn’t particularly interested in the latter half of that, though he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least marginally interested in meeting the Red Hood. Tom joked that Hood had left a duffel bag of heads before, he’d said that it reminded him of Simon… He didn’t know how to feel about that.
“This city is too big.” Simon told himself. He leapt across a gap to a neighboring roof, strolling to the edge. It was weird being out of the Village, compared to the rest of Gotham it was quiet, crime being an afterthought.
Getting to the docks didn’t take much longer, and what he found was concerning. There was a group of people milling around, unloading a truck filled with boxes of something familiar—Mendo Soap. So Beth was right, there was another shipment. He scaled down the building into the shadows, hoping to get closer when he noticed something in the corner of his vision. A red helmet.
* * *
Jason stood in the shadows nearest the truck, watching quietly as the people moved back and forth from the truck, unloading whatever the hell ‘Mendo Soap’ was. He was seriously starting to doubt his gang's abilities to track something down. After a few more seconds of deliberation Jason stepped out.
“So, soap? Didn’t realize people were moving on from the drug trade.” Heads immediately turned and guns were pulled, the group starting at the sudden appearance.
“Shit— Red Hood?”
“The one and only.” He let out a low chuckle, the modulator in his helmet twisting it into something unsettling. “So, is that really soap or is it some kind of cover? I never thought about that—must make it easy.”
One step.
“Not today Red Hood, we ain’t giving this up.” One goon said. He motioned for the others to keep unloading.
Guess that’s their little leader. Another step.
“My territory, my rules.” Jason itched to just punch the guy. It would make this a hell of a lot easier. Backup would too, but who cares. The rest of the goons started moving again, heaving the boxes to wherever they were going.
“Not today it ain’t.” The newly dubbed ‘goon captain’ was about to fire a warning shot when suddenly a blur of red and black dropped from the sky, landing squarely on the man.
Was that Red Robin?
Everything immediately erupted into chaos. The other members dropped what they were carrying and began to shoot at the figure, with Jason returning fire. One goon tried to go for a punch that Jason, unfortunately for the goon––dodged. The guy got tossed over Jason’s shoulder like a ragdoll, the sound of something breaking barely heard over the sounds of gunfire. He could see ‘ Not-Red-Robin’ holding his own against some goons, using something that Jason guessed was a wire to choke some guy out while he thrashed around. It didn’t take long to subdue the crew, they were small and not very trained combat. The last guy fell to the ground as Jason delivered a final blow to the mans kneecap, the prince of Gotham finally turning to the stranger.
“Who ‘re you?” He asked.
“...Simon.” The figure straightened out, giving Jason a better look at who it was. He was wearing a white mask that covered his face, stitches seemingly holding the whole thing together. Other than that he wore a black trenchcoat and a red striped sweater underneath. The guy sounded young, 17, maybe 18––He only went up to Jasons shoulder give or take.
“And you’re here because?” Jason asked.
“I’m investigating. The soap is my biggest lead.” Simon said.
“Okay, well first of all this is my investigation, so get the hell out of my territory. I don’t need a sidekick or whatever.”
“This is my case. You don’t know what Mendo Soap even––” Before Simon could finish, a shot rang out, cutting the awkward conversation short. He crumpled to the ground in a heap almost instantaneously.
And like all nights in Gotham, red stained the ground.