Caught Red Handed (closed)

Participants: Tim Drake-Wayne / Jason Todd
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Blüdhaven
Time of Day: Late at night
Weather: Overcast
Summary: Tim moves in on apprehending the next name on his list, Jason Todd.

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How long had Jason been out of Arkham? He should have been higher on his list. He should have apprehended him earlier, gone after him sooner. Now he was hearing rumors of a new Outsiders team and Jason's current codename mixed in with those rumors. That couldn't have been good news. It may have just been rumors for now but he'd learned that most, if not all, rumors typically held a grain of truth to them. The idea of Jason with a team... After the damage he'd done last time... Tim grimaced. No, that wasn't going to happen again.

The last time he'd seen Jason, he'd helped him escape jail only for him to turn around and kill civilians. It'd been a ridiculously stupid mistake on his part, one he didn't intend to make again. He wasn't going to underestimate Jason again. He didn't care whether Jason got dragged back to Arkham or some other jail; he honestly hadn't put much thought into where Jason would end up after he took him off the streets. So long as he couldn't hurt anyone else.

Jason's life seemed to be far too quiet, though, compared to the usual. It put Tim on edge. The last time he'd seen Jason, he'd been stabbed by him with a batarang. Yet another reason to not underestimate Jason this time. The two of them were technically brothers but given a choice between Jason and Damian - as much as Tim would wish Dick was an option - he'd have chosen Damian in a heartbeat.

So far he'd spent two weeks in Blüdhaven, trying to track Jason's movements while keeping as much distance as he could because he knew the closer he got, the more he risked being discovered. He'd spent longer having Lonnie trying to dig up anything on Jason Todd or the Red Hood. He'd discovered both a restaurant and a gas station store he frequented. Tim guessed he had safe houses - no matter how he'd turned out, Jason had still been trained by Bruce so of course he had safe houses. Those were just harder to find, which was also expected.

The most promising lead was an apartment. It was leased under the name Peter Jay. An alias of course. He'd tasked Lonnie with looking into that name, seeing where else it would lead. He wasn't going to make hiding easy for Jason.

Tim had waited until the apartment was empty, clad in his Red Robin uniform, before expertly breaking in through the window. He noted all possible exists first before examining the rest of the apartment. The kitchen had just the basics which was expected. There was a bookshelf, surprisingly overflowing with books, many of which were fiction. He skimmed the titles of a few of them, removing a couple to see if anything was hidden inside. There was a knife in one. He noted the title of that book, left the knife, and put it exactly where he'd found it. Thankfully his gloves kept him from leaving finger prints.

There wasn't a bed in the apartment but rather just a mattress. He checked under it naturally. There was also a couch and a coffee table. He checked under the couch, under the cushions, under the table. He found various weapons hidden throughout the apartment. Then he noticed the laptop on the coffee table and quickly opened it, turning it on. He frowned. This was going to take some time to hack into. Time he didn't think he had. He had to decide whether or not to take the laptop with him. If he couldn't get into it, maybe Barbara could. No matter what, he needed to find out what Jason was up to in Blüdhaven.

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624 words
Jason Todd

Most people see a shadow move out of the corner of their eye, they figure it’s just a trick of the light. Jason, however, knew better—training and experience had taught him. So, naturally, he knew he wouldn’t be using his apartment door when he saw a shadow swoop across his window. He didn’t know who it was; they moved quietly and quickly and if Jason hadn’t been so well-trained he probably wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. He figured, though, that whoever it was had been that pesky little tail he’d had the last couple weeks. He sounded ridiculously paranoid, having no proof he was being followed and observed, but he knew he was. It was a feeling, an instinct, that saved your life as a vigilante and kept you out of the clutches of creepos as a street kid.

So, with a mild case of irritation, he threw out his plans for the evening and crossed the street back toward his apartment building. He walked into the alley beneath his window and climbed up the rusted fire escape until he reached it. He crouched down, unable to see into the room due to his cheap dollar store curtains. So instead his eyes drifted to the lock on the inside of the window, just loose and lying there the traitor. What made it all the more frustrating was that he’d been honestly meaning to invest in better security for the place. At some point, this temporary safehouse had become more of a sort of permanent living space. He hadn’t had one of those in a while, so he blamed his period of readjustment for stupidly putting off the security improvements.

He did, however, make sure to keep his window well-oiled, so it was silent as he pushed it up and slipped in. He was quite aware of the fact that he was in civvies and the only weapons on him were a knife in his shoe and a gun in the back of his pants. Still, there was basically a whole armory of weapons hidden away in this apartment and he knew every nook and cranny. This intruder may have had a few minutes of a head start, but that wasn’t enough time to know this apartment like Jason did.

His eyes instantly landed on the back of the figure, hunched over his coffee table and illuminated by the light of Jason’s laptop screen. A cowl and black cape hid any distinguishable features, but the lack of pointy ears and height told Jason immediately who this was.

What the s**t? “The hell are you doing here?”

The last time he'd seen Jason Todd, he'd been stabbed by the other man in a very clear attempt on his life and left for dead. Frankly if Tim had to have picked, he would have preferred Damian. At least that brat was more predictable and easily suppressed by Dick or Bruce. Jason was more of a lose canon in his mind. He wasn't sure if they'd ever had an interaction that hadn't involved an attempt on his life - at least none that were coming to mind right now. He was starting to think he was getting close to cracking the computer when he heard that familiar voice. His brain worked quickly, his cape helping to hide his actions.

He remembered being attacked in the Titans' Tower - his first introduction to his predecessor. He remembered letting Jason out of prison. He remembered finding out all the people Jason had killed after he'd released him from prison. He remembered being stabbed. He remembered it all quite well. Perhaps if Dick had been there or maybe even Bruce, things wouldn't have escalated so quickly. Tim would have waited for Bruce to make the first move, to see what tone he would set for the oncoming conversation. If Dick had been there, he would have had a good chance at stopping Tim or deescalating the whole thing.

But neither Dick nor Bruce were there.

It wasn't even a second after Jason finished talking that the batarang was thrown. Tim quickly got to his feet the moment his fingers were no longer touching the batarang, leaping over the table and closing the laptop at the same time. He wasn't going to let Jason gain the upper-hand, especially not in his own hideout - Not this time. He wasn't the same kid that had been attacked in the middle of the night in that Tower. He wasn't even the same young man that had been stabbed and left for dead the last time they'd encountered each other. He learned from his mistakes because he didn't think he could afford not to.

Well he learned from most of his mistakes. If he'd learned from them all, he probably wouldn't have been trying to take on the Red Hood by himself.

He had his bō staff out and was quickly following the batarang, using it more as a distraction, knowing Jason was likely to dodge it. But being so close behind it meant there was a chance his staff would connect. He swung the staff with deadly precision and years of training, aiming to crack it against the side of Jason's head and disorient him.

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437 words
Jason Todd

Tim had always come across to Jason as the most thoughtful of the Bat’s little proteges—more predisposed to Bruce’s type of careful planning and less inclined to impulsivity. Apparently, he’d either been wrong or something had changed, because Jason had barely finished his sentence before a batarang was flying at his face. Heh, better than his throat, he supposed.

s**t, Jason thought, dodging the projectile easily which was the giveaway that it wasn’t the real attack. No, the bo staff making a direct arc toward Jason’s exposed head was. He ducked, felt it ruffle his hair as it just barely missed. Jason could grudgingly admit that the kid seemed to get better and better every time they tussled.

He could also see where Tim’s hostility was coming from. When Jason had been at his worst, Tim had always seemed to take the brunt of it. Returned from the dead hurt and resentful and determined to make everyone else hurt like he did? Put on a stupid outfit and beat up Tim. Bruce dead and have no idea how to deal with that and the complete lack of closure? Put on another stupid outfit and beat up Tim. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before Tim decided attacking Jason on sight was the best course of action.

But he was in Jason’s apartment. And Jason hadn’t done s**t to earn this recently. He hadn’t killed anyone in months and had kept his ass out of Gotham except for when strictly necessary. So, Jason thought he also had a right to be a little pissed off here. He hadn’t sought out this conflict, had actually been pretty dead set on avoiding it.

With one hand, he grabbed the bo staff, striking out with a kick in an attempt to push Tim back, while his other hand reached back and grabbed the gun from the back of his pants and pointing it at the younger man. Yeah, the costume was almost definitely bulletproof, but at this range? Jason was pretty sure he could still make a hole or two.

The problem? Jason couldn’t exactly use his gun. Not because he didn’t want to shoot Red Robin—he wasn’t above doing some nonlethal but painful as hell shots if needed—but Tim was almost certain to dodge at least a decent amount of shots. Jason’s aim was damn near perfect, but Bats were experts at dodging bullets. And Jason had neighbors. Neighbors that didn’t need bullets flying through their walls. They also had ears and while the chances were low with this being Blüdhaven and all, there was still a chance of them calling the police at the sound of gunfire. Jason was pretty fond of this apartment. He didn’t want to have to ditch it.

Hopefully, Tim still thought of Jason as enough of a wild card to be willing to risk all that, though, and wouldn’t see his bluff.

“Again: the hell are you doing? Looking for another outfit to steal?” he sneered and really, he knew he could get over the whole Robin thing someday, but now the kid taking Red Robin from him too? The outfit given to him by an alternate Bruce who had goddamn cared enough to avenge him? It was pouring salt in the wound.

Tim hadn't expected to take Jason out with one feigned attack and one actual one. He'd hoped it do something but Jason had received the same training as him and experience fighting him told him this would only be the beginning. He'd be foolish to think he could easily gain the upper hand, especially in Jason's own apartment. But the trick was to slowly gain the upper hand. Jason was wild enough, raw and dangerous, that he could be predictable in his own way. All Tim had to do was be unpredictable. He could match Jason's brutality with that of his own long enough to throw the other man off and put the odds in his own favor.

And he wouldn't feel all that bad, if at all, about it. The beatings, the attacks, the innocents killed all because he'd helped this very man get out of jail... All of that added together to make sure he wouldn't care. He'd do what he had to in order to apprehend him.

Jason's hand was on his bō and the attack put them too close for him to dodge the kick. Tim yanked on the staff as he was pushed back, reclaiming it and quickly steadying his footing. That was when he saw the gun. Typical. He shifted on his feet, still in a fighting stance, a corner of his cape falling over his arm, hiding it. It was obvious. Jason would notice. He'd fall right into predictability just enough for the other man to think the fight was in his control. If he could out play Ra's al Ghul, he could out play Jason Todd.

He had no doubt that Jason would use the gun which was a problem in itself. His costume would give him some protection but much less than if they were farther apart. That and there were obviously other tenants in this building. Jason may not have cared if a stray bullet struck someone through the walls but Tim did. He needed to get the gun out of Jason's hand. Surely he had more guns - far too many, most likely - but his primary concern was the one he was currently grasping.

Tim couldn't help letting out an irritated huff at Jason's words. Seriously? He was still upset about that? He was starting to think Jason had nothing else to complain about regarding him, nothing else to try to poke at him with, to irritate him with. It was irritating but mostly because Jason wouldn't let the topic die.

His hand, hidden by his cape, reached to his belt.

If he was Dick, he probably would have had something witty to say. If he was Damian - thank God he wasn't - he probably would have disregarded the gun entirely and lashed out with his sword by now, no real careful plan, thinking he was better than everyone-- Okay... He still had some things to work on with Damian. If he was Bruce, he probably would have just said Jason's name in that voice - the one twisted with both grief and disappointment. But he was himself... Except Jason would expect that. What would Jason not expect? His eyes, hidden by his cowl, searched Jason's, trying to find a bluff but knowing he couldn't risk it. What would Jason not expect?

Himself, clearly.

The words felt uncharacteristic but that was exactly the point as he spoke, "At least I didn't take my name after the Joker." With that, he threw the flash grenades he'd grabbed from his belt onto the ground, bright white burst the second they made contact. He leapt through the light, throwing himself at Jason, bō dropped, attempting to tackle him down to the ground while instinctively a hand moved to grab at the wrist that held the gun.

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631 words
Jason Todd
Let me know if you need more. 💕

Jason was keenly aware of that hand hidden by the cape. He’d spent years by the side of a guy who wore one, the same one who had trained Tim, so he could recognize a tale when he saw one. What he couldn’t be sure about was what Tim was prepping beneath that dramatic piece of fabric. Another batarang? Smoke bomb? Maybe a signal to call for backup? If the last one was the case, Jason wasn’t too prideful to book it the hell out of here. Yeah, it would suck having to ditch everything at this apartment, but he was not prepared for an all-out confrontation with the entire Bat brood who would no doubt come to Timmy’s defense. He wasn’t stupid enough to know he could get out of that unscathed. Not without weeks’ worth of planning.

He couldn’t help a slight sneer at Tim’s response, because this kid really didn’t get it did he? He didn’t know why Jason would be so upset about Robin and now Red Robin. He had no idea what it was like to have so little, to clutch onto every last scrap of anything that meant something. He had no idea why Red Hood was Jason’s strongest stance yet. No idea what it was like to look your trauma in the eye and say “f**k you.” No idea-

A deep inhale. s**t, this kid did not make it easy to not shoot him.

Jason didn’t have time to think of a response anyway. Tim was moving and Jason’s finger twitched against the trigger, but he didn’t pull it. Even as his vision was suddenly blinded. Ah, it was a flash grenade. Kid was either going to ditch or-

Attack. Jason felt Tim’s body slam into his and while it was too late to dodge the tackle, it wasn’t too late to respond. Vision not even fully cleared yet, he twisted so that Tim would land on the bottom. He felt Tim hand grip his wrist and, annoyance mounting, he let the gun drop. His vision fully returned by the time they hit the floor and he had his dagger out. He drove his elbow into Tim throat to give him a second to act, then slammed the hilt into the nerve point in his wrist to get his own arm released. Then he was jumping back onto his feet, but not without stabbing the dagger into Red Robin’s cape and pinning it to the ground. Another stalling tactic. He needed to slow him down as it was difficult keeping up with the kid’s, well, kinda feral tactics right now. Turnabouts fair play, a small part of Jason thought bitterly.

He needed a new weapon now, though, because God knew how many Red Robin still had on him. Grabbing his abandoned gun would require going past Tim, though. His closest weapons stash was 4 yards away and he needed time to actually shove the books covering it out of the way. Tim wouldn’t be stalled for that long. He quickly scanned the kitchen—where Tim had tackled the two into. His gaze landed on a frying pan he’d been planning to scramble some eggs with tonight and, well, he was great at improv. He grabbed the cookware, readying to block and counter the next offense. “Bruce send you or is this a wild crusade of your own?”