Red is for Forgotten Robins (Part Two)
Red is For Forgotten Robins. (Part two)
Arc: Red
Rating: PG-13 for some violence. Triggers for guns and blood.
Summary: Jason tracks down a recently deceased Stephanie Brown, find her recovering in Africa before anyone else can think to do so. He wants to teach her, to work with her, for them to be partners. The Robin to his Batman only not exactly. They were both Robin once and it didn’t work well for wither of them. They will be darker, more violent. More Red.
Snippet: “Come with me, be my partner,” She knows he is no Batman. Jason does bad things, things she can’t imagine herself doing. She understands why he does them, but she’s not sure if she can do them.
Notes: This is the Result of my Big Bang Project. Big Thanks to Wisiaden for Beta’ing for me on such short notice. You are the best~
Word Count is 10,300.
I am planning a sequel, hopefully will work on that in December.
Enjoy
Accompanying Fanworks
Fanworker name: sweetestdrain
Type of fanwork: digital collage + fanmix
Link to accompanying fanwork master post: http://sweetestdrain.livejournal.com/273002.html
Stephanie counts the days since Jason left.
She keeps herself busy, it doesn’t stop her from worrying, but it helps.
She practices running roof tops. Because living in the country that was hard to do. She dons her black leathery suit, wraps the scarf around her face and ties her hair back. She can try not to think about Jason’s absence in their home when she’s running across the roof tops, leaping over the gaps between building, scaling walls and hanging off of edges. She loses herself in the motions of locating where she wants to go and how to get there. Navigating the city from above is different from driving the streets. She is by herself up here, swinging and leaping over the streets. She doesn’t feel alone though, being able to look down at see the people of the city hurrying about. Going to movies, going out with friends or on dates.
Big cities suit Stephanie. As much as she loved the quiet country side, this is more her. It’s loud, messy and full of life. It’s bright and moving all the time. Cities are alive and that brings her to life.
She drives out of the city a few times to practice with the sniper rifle. She packs it into its case, straps it to her back for the drive. She goes to the secluded area that Jason takes her to practice at. She practices by finding the cans they already brought out before. Once she lays in the dirt, in her nice clothes no less to practice. Another time she finds a tree to hang out in for the afternoon. She packed a lunch and spent most of the day hidden in the tree. Finding the holey cans to riddle with bullets again.
She goes running every day. In the morning after breakfast, she straps the mp3 player to her arm and goes for an hour. She runs through the streets, because running on a treadmill is very boring as she has discovered when they first moved into the city. Even when she watched television or listened to music. She preferred to be outside.
She trains in the basement under their apartment. It’s a place that doesn’t technically exist but if you know how to get to it, you know what to do with it. Push ups, sit ups, uneven bars, balancing and floor exercises. She uses the targets for range practice and the dummies to keep her close combat practice going.
She goes out some evenings, usually to coffee shops. She has a book in hand most of the time. Fiction, humor, social commentary, anything too keep her mind busy and off of the date. It’s always nagging in the back of her mind though.
There is a brunette who works at her favourite coffee shop. It’s relaxed and they don’t mind if she sits in the shop for hours with her book. The brunette’s name is Christophe. He has several facial piercings and tattoos on his arms. He’s a few years older than her and always brings her a refill. He usually asks about her books that she’s reading, if it’s not busy they chat for a few moments about it. He has a sweet smile and is nice.
She likes talking to people, she talks when she is out and about. She talks to anyone, she talks to everyone. The young man at the cafe with the sweet voice and wicked smile. The woman across the hall from them with her two children. The sassy woman with stars tattooed up her arm at the corner nearest their apartment complex. She enjoys talking to people. It helps keep her mind busy, not thinking about how many days Jason's been gone, how many more it might be and what kind of state he will come back to her in.
She doesn't think about the possibility of him not returning for her. Because that is an unbearable pain. she would look for him and find him yes, but where? Would she find him in a hospital? In prison or an asylum? Would she find him returned to the grave again? The thoughts made her chest clench tightly and tears well into her eyes. It scared her, the thought of not having her partner scared her enough to shut her down. To make her want to crawl into her bed and drown in the sea of blankets, pillows and comfort.
She tried not to think about it. He would come back and they would be fine.
And Jason does come back to her.
It’s a month later and he's not in the shape he left her in. He has bruises littering his body. Stitched up wounds on his arms and face. Broken fingers that are taped together and she knows there are more injuries. Ones that she can't see when he walks into the coffee shop on a July evening.
"Jason," her book is dropped and she is out of her chair. Her blue sun dress swirls behind her as she lunges for him. She is panicked, worried and so relieved at the same time.
They are both sights for sore eyes. The blonde with her loose curls, sundress, black tights and ankle boots. The yellow scarf that covers her neck and chest from sight.
His tall frame. The messy hair with the white skunk tuff. His leather jacket, broken in jeans and boots.
"Hey, don't cry," She didn't notice, nor bother to correct it. Her hand cups his cheek , thumb trailing over the spilt in his lip lightly. He’s taken a beating, another one.
It makes her angry a bit, because haven’t they been beaten enough? Haven’t they worked hard enough? Why do they always seem to be tossed aside, broken and forgotten.
“I should have been there,”
“No, it’s okay,”
“No it’s not. I should have been there with you. I should have been ready. I’m supposed to be your partners and this isn’t supposed to happen, because we have each other’s backs,”
Jason’s hand covers hers and he leans down to press their foreheads together. “It’s okay,” He squeezes her hand lightly. “Let’s go home, okay?”
--
Jason spends the better part of the next week in bed. Mostly because whenever he is up and walking around the blonde looks like she is going to burst into tears. He is covered in stitches. She finds this out when she helped him get his shirt off. He has deep purple bruising all over.
They spend a week laying around the apartment. Steph is usually right beside him in bed. He hasn’t even tried to dress since the first night, just pulled on a pair of sweats and climbed into bed. Steph doesn’t do much better, wearing a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt.
The blonde leave the bed occasionally, but aside from running in the mornings she hasn’t been training. She wants him to get his rest and she can only make sure he does if she’s right there to bully him back into bed. She leaves to cook for them too, meals are eaten carefully in bed.
They watch a lot of television, Jason’s impressed by the sharp improvement in her French.
“Didn’t have anyone to speak English with,” She replies and flops back against the pillows in the bed.
They get out of bed to shower and to change Jason’s bandages. She helps with the removing of the old and putting the new dressings back on him. She’s really good at it, now that she’s over the initial shock of how bad he’s looks.
She changed the bed sheets once while he was in the shower, keep them fresh and clean while the stewed in ice cream, French soap operas and comfortable blankets.
After a week though, Jason kicks them out of bed. He’s still got a week till his stitches come out, but his bruises are fading and the blonde has gotten away with slacking off enough. It’s time for her to get back on the horse and show him what she can do.
As she runs through the motions, He notices her viciousness a bit more. She’s grits her teeth and throws her whole body into her attacks. Her movements are tight, precise.
As he watches her he notices that she’s got her spark back. She’s angry. But instead of her anger making her sloppy, it focuses her.
He knows why she’s angry. He’s been that angry before. Angry about broken birds. About Robins that have been beaten and left behind. Seeing her partner beaten like such, just made it all rise up in her. She’s going to be vicious and deadly. This isn’t going to happen to one of them again. Not if she has anything to say about it.
--
It’s a few weeks later. The pair have found a tree to perch themselves in while Stephanie practices with her rifle. She’s good, good at watching, waiting and knowing when to take her shot and when to leave it. She’ll only ever get one shot with the rifle she knows that. If she misses in may not give away her exact location, but it will give her presence away.
“Jay,” She says quietly, breaking the hour long silence between her stalking and his observing. She keeps her eye to the scope and her finger of the trigger, looking for something to bring down.
“Yeah?” He asks, trying not to distract her. Watching her work is nice. She’s focused and calm.
“I think I’m ready,” She finds something, takes a deep breath and relaxes for a moment, so Jason can find her target with his binoculars.
“You sure?” He asks and finds her target. He gives her the hand signal that he’s got it in sight too.
“I think so,” She squeezes the trigger. The bullet rips through an apple in the distance and lodges itself into a tree.
“Okay. Let’s find ourselves a job then,”
--
They both do equal amounts of work for the job, Stephanie’s end is more research and Jason’s is more infiltrating. She tracks them down and he becomes a part of the business.
He wouldn’t let her go under cover for this. Not when they had found a sex trafficking operation.
Jason worked his way up in the ranks quickly, Steph kept her distance, and ran interference from a distance. Shutting down accounts, tying up shipments in customs and tipping off police on how to find the shipments.
It’s a month before she gets the notice from Jason where they are meeting the boss. Because the man in charge wants to meet his new blood. Probably because they weren’t having these problems before Jason showed up, but he’s always got an alibi and someone else to vouch for him.
Steph perches herself several roof tops away from the meeting. She doesn’t have a name for herself, not yet. They are still trying to figure that out for her. She wants a new Identity, but she can’t think of one. Jason tells her that it’ll come. For now she dons the black leathery suit, the scarf wrapped around her mouth and her hair pulled back. She has her gun set up and her perch ready before the meeting even starts. She loads the bullet into the gun and crouches. And waits.
Waits for Jason and the men he’s been working with to show up. They chat and wait for the boss to show up.
He wears a black suit. A black suit and a pair of suit glasses. He walks into the room like he owns it, because he does. He shakes Jason’s hand and sneers at him lightly. There are two bigger burly men standing behind them. She brings her eye to the scope to watch the interaction.
She doesn’t like his body language. Something is up.
For a moment she almost doesn’t think she can do this. She is armed, she’s at a safe distance, his men will never catch her but, she doesn’t know if she can take this man’s life.
He turns his back to Jason and smirks lightly. He snaps his fingers and the bigger two move forward. He’s reaching into his suit jacket and when she spots the glint of silver, the shine of metal from a gun.
No more Broken Birds. No more Dead Robins.
She squeezes the trigger tightly. She can feel her heart hammering against her chest. The moment from pulling the trigger till the bullet hits him feels like forever. She’s holding her breath, waiting, waiting, waiting. And when she thinks she’s going crazy she sees the splatter of blood. It hits the man beside him, hits the wall and the body falls to the floor.
Not a person anymore, he’s just a body. She did that. One minute he was upright and talking. Now there is nothing left but a body and a blood splatter.
Her blood is pounding in her ears, her heart hammering against her chest. She’s holding her breath and vaguely aware of the violence that exploded through the room after her shot. Jason’s plan was to take out the rest of his officers after she got him. She lowers her gun, the scope away from her eyes. The sound of her breathing is deafening. Everything feels muddled and messy.
She packs the gun back up, just going through the motions, packs it back into the case and closes it. She looks at her hands.
Her black leather gloves are wrapped tightly around her fingers. She has blood on her hands and she can’t breathe.
She not sure how long she sits there quietly. Long enough for Jason to finish up with the rest of them and make his way to her roof top. His boots hit with a heavy thud and she jumps a bit. She looks up at him.
“Are you okay?” He has a worried look on his face. There is blood on his jacket, his shirt, his jeans.
And everything’s loud, her heart is deafening in her ears. Her actions well up inside of her and over flow. She boils over in seconds. Lunging for Jason and grabbing onto his shirt. Tears streaming down her face. She tries to be quiet and to hold it in. To be tough but all she can see is red and all she can do is clench onto his shirt and sob into it. Her nose is running and her eyes are clenched.
Jason wraps his arms around her lightly. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I got you,”
--
Stephanie has spent the better part of the last week crying. She keeps crying and crying, only stopping when she has tired herself out and fall asleep. She clings something close, a pillow, her blankets, Jason and just cries.
Jason doesn’t know how to make it stop, how to make it better. How to take it back and make it okay again. So he lets her cry, lets her cling and lets her get it out of her system. He holds her lightly, strokes her hair and is just there for her.
He wakes up in the middle of the night when she crawls out of bed. She’s been sleeping with him because it stops her from waking up in the middle of the night and having to be alone. She doesn’t want to be alone because it’s worse when she is. He looks at the time, two in the morning and rubs his face. He’s ready for a fresh round of tears and her fingers clenching his hands tightly.
But they don’t come. She doesn’t come running. He hears things being shuffled around in the kitchen and water running for a few moments. She sets something down and opens one of the cupboards. She closes it after a moment and he hears her sigh.
The blankets are tossed aside and he crawls out of bed. He pulls a shirt over his head and heads out into the apartment.
The blonde is standing in the kitchen. Her face is still red and blotchy from crying herself to sleep, Her hair is a rumpled mess and there are dark circles under her eyes. She’s staring at the kettle on the stove, her arms crossed over her chest. She yawns lightly and the skin by her eyes crinkle.
“Can’t sleep?” Jason asks and takes a seat at the table she looks over her shoulder at him for a moment. She turns back to the kettle and mutters that she’s not tired anymore. Jason doesn’t reply, he can see the tiredness on her. The way she holds herself, the slump of her shoulders. She is tired, she just can’t sleep. The pair are quiet until the water boils, aside from Stephanie shuffling to get him a mug as well. She pours the water over the tea bags before spooning in honey for both of them.
“Thank you,” Jason says when she sets the mug down in front of him. She nods in reply before sitting down across from her. They both take a few sips of their tea, mint, calming.
“You know,” Jason sets the mug down on the table and Steph looks into her eyes, Green meets Blue lightly. “I don’t mind if you need to cry still,” He doesn’t. That fact that she is sitting calmly is a bit unnerving for him. That fact that her mouth isn’t pressed together tightly trying to hold back.
“I think I’m cried out right now,” She says quietly. She sounds a little numb. “Does it get easier?” she asks. Jason doesn’t know how to answer her. Because she going to handle this differently then he would. She’s going to do it her way.
“You know that what we’ve did for the past month saved a hundred girls from a life of hell?” She blinks at him lightly. “One month, one hundred girls. So next month when he isn’t there to traffic them that’s two hundred. This time next you’ve saved potentially thousands of lives from hell,”
“I know,” She saves and the corner of her mouth twitches a bit.
“Just keep reminding yourself of that,” Jason says. He takes a sip of his tea while the girl rubs her thumb against the mug.
“This isn’t easy,” He knows what she means. The Bats, The man himself tells them that killing the easy way of doing things. It’s not. He can see it in Stephanie’s face that every time she’s going to pull that trigger is going to be hard on her. She’ll be able to understand why she did, why she had to, but it’ll still be hard on her. Maybe not break down for a week kind of hard, but still.
“About my name, my new identity,” She sips her tea lightly and looks at him.
“Let’s talk about that in the morning, cause I’m sure you have more ideas than just a name,” He says and finishes his tea while it’s still warm.
“I do.”
“What’s your name going to be?” He asks as she finishes her mug off. He grabs the mugs from the table and puts them into the sink.
“I was thinking about Red X,” She yawns and stretches her arms above her head as she stands up.
“I like it,” He says as they walk back to the bedroom. “We’ll talk about the outfit in the morning,”
“Okay,”
--
When she tries on the Uniform for the first time, her heart swells with excitement.
It’s a black leather suit, the red X on the left side of her chest looks like someone painted it on the suit. It’s a red, violent, angry marking. Just like she asked for. It’s a body suit, feet and hands covered. Her boots fit neatly over the suit, reinforced to protect her and fitted up to her knees. Her belt is black with several pouches, for throwing knives and stars, tiny explosives and gas bombs, he larger knife is strapped to her leg. Her guns, custom black and red M1911’s, are holstered in the back to the belt, hidden from sight by her cape. The cape has a tattered bottom, wraps over the front of her shoulders and most importantly, it has a hood.
The hood reminds her that she is still Stephanie, no matter what anyone else might have to say about it when they meet the new her. Her face and her hair are covered by a black cowl, her hard white mask is suck to the front of the cowl. It also has the same violent red X on it, though slightly of centered to the right. The voice distorter makes her happy bubbly voice into a sharp, higher pitched voice. She sounds like a devilish spoiled girl who will break your face to get her way. The lenses built into the mask are red.
“How’s it feel, X?”He’s in his uniform, having stuck with the leather jacket, body armor and red helmet.
“Fits like a glove,” Hearing her voice through the distorter is a weird moment for the pair of them. They pause for a moment and Steph starts to laugh.
“That sounds wicked. Glad we went with it?” He asks her. The blonde nods and calms down her laughing. She twirls around a few times, her cap fans out around her. It’s light, meant to be a distraction instead of protection. Made her more intimidating, Her swoops looked bigger, her dives harder, her attacks have flourish.
Without the cape her moves are graceful, fluid and natural. The way the cape billows behind her, twists wider and curls with her makes her a terror. Scary, her movements unnatural.
“You’re a scary little girl you know that,” He said as she swings off the higher of the uneven bars and stuck the landing. She twists her hands out to the sides and throws her arms over her head.
“I thought that was the point,” She turns to him and tilts her head to the side. She takes all her weigh onto her left side, Hands on her waist and her hip cocked out.
“What do say we go and give this dynamic partnership a run? Hit the roofs and go running for it?”
“That sounds like a plan darling,” He pulls his helmet on and the pair of them head out. They never went out running together yet, at least not in costume.
But now, here on the roofs. It took them a few jumps but they found a rhythm quickly. They moved very gracefully together. She knew when to dive under him and he knew when throw himself forward.
They were partners.
--
Stephanie heard the news first. Neither of them were ready to go back to Gotham but that didn’t mean they didn’t keep tabs on the city, their family.
Steph had been listening to their tap on the super hero hot line. They had seen the activity and unless they were working something usually one of them was listening. They weren’t getting involved but something was going down. When big things like this went down someone usually ended dead. They had a lot of loved ones in that community, even if they weren’t a part of it anymore.
Jason came home from the store to see the head phones of the desk. Steph is sitting in the chair at the desk, her face in her hands. Her hair is a mess, she’s been pulling at it. Her shoulders are shaking. She doesn’t even look up when he closes the front door.
“Steph,” She doesn’t look up. She presses her hands harder into her face. It’s bad, she’s crying so he knows it has to be so bad. He sets the bags done on the table and the coffees before walking over to her. He kneels down in front of her and grabs her hands away from her face. Her cheeks are red and puffy. Her face is wet and she can’t focus on him.
“Hey it’s okay,” She shakes her head and he presses his forehead into herself. “Can you tell me what happened sweetie?” She blinks a few times slowly. “Come you got this okay,” She takes a few deep breathes and squeezes his hands tightly.
“Someone died,” She says and keeps trying to get her breathing steady. The blonde presses her lips together tightly.
“Okay, okay,” Jason rubs his thumb against the back of her hand. “Who was it?” The girl blinks at him a few times. She kisses his forehead lightly.
“I’m sorry Jason,” She bites her lip and her tears are welling back up in her eyes again. “It was Bruce. It was Bruce,” She crying and holding his hands. He grabs her hands and tugs her forward and into his lap. Her arms wrap around his waist and he presses her face into his shoulder. His hand wraps into her hair and he hold onto her tightly.
Her arms got tight around his waist. She could feel him shaking. For all the bad that came for them from being Robin’s they still cared for them. For Bruce and Dick. Steph still loved and missed Cass and Tim.
And Bruce was gone.
She never thought she’d see Jason cry in her life. She never thought that something could break him, like things could break her.
But she was wrong.
They sat on the floor for a long time. Wrapped tight in their partners’ hold. Her fingers slip up into his hair and she rubs his scalp lightly.
“It’s okay. We are going to be okay,” They don’t know that, but Stephanie remembers when she needed to hear it, when she falling apart he was right there to say it for her. She didn’t think she was going to be okay by any means but it was nice to here.
After a while they pull themselves up off the floor. They keep close to each other and walk back to the bedroom.
It looked like there was going to be another week of laying in bed and being upset.
But it would be okay, they could get through this. That’s what partners did, helped each other and were there for each other.
Red Hood and Red X.
--
“We have a hit,” Steph had been typing away at the laptop. It had been a few weeks since Bruce. Gotham had blown up for a bit and while the watched over the new feed what was going on they didn’t dare step back into that city. It wasn’t where they wanted to be. They didn’t need to be the Batman or Robin in the world. They didn’t want to be well known.
They just wanted to do their thing and they did. Their operation was based out of the Paris apartment, but they traveled a lot. They stayed under the radar of the big damn heroes of the world preferring to play in the shadows. Until they got a hit.
“What kind?” Jason asks. He leans over her shoulder as she clicks on the window.
“We have Bat in Paris,” She purses her lips together, frowning. Why him and why now. What did Alvin Draper want in Paris when he had Gotham that he had to look after.
“I can’t check it out, he knows me,” Jason saya. She was not looking forward to a confrontation with Tim. But it was going to happen whether she liked it or not. If Jason went it’d be a fist fight and no information. Tim would track them down instead. At least if she went, unarmed, she could possibly walk away from this without a mess exploding on them.
“I’ll go tonight.”
“Take your guns.”
“That’s asking for more trouble than it’s worth. No guns,”
Stephanie suits up and heads out to find Tim that night. She knows Red is watching her, via the computer. He can't go with her but he can't leave her to do this alone.
She swings through Paris, to the hotel that Alvin checked into. She stays a few buildings away to scope it out. He's not there is the first thing she notices. That's okay though, she can wait. She doesn't have anywhere else to be tonight. She crouches low and settles in for the wait. She wants to be ready to spring out at a moments notice but be comfortable in her wait.
She knew he wouldn't be in his room this early in the evening. Tim isn't the type to sit still long, if he isn't committed to a case he is usually out looking for one.
Tim is a good hero. Tim is her hero still.
There is more movement on the roof tops, she's not the only one out here. At first she thinks it's Tim, but he wouldn't make the almost no noise that they are. He is also not three people.
Someone else is stalking her stalkee. She purses her lips behind the mask and creeps over to the edge. She can make out the three figures, two men and a bald woman. She wrinkles her nose at them but not able to make out what they are saying. She doesn't risk calling this in the Red Hood, just because she didn't see any bugs of her roof top doesn't mean there aren't any.
The three look up and the blonde snaps her head back. There is a light on in the Drapper room. The cowl is pushed back off his face and it leaves her with several questions.
Who is he talking to? Who are his fan club? What is up with the new uniform? He looks like Doctor Midnite. Since when was Tim a cowl guy? What had been happened to him in Gotham?
His back was turned to the window when they pulled the gun. She could see the three bickering out of the corner of her eye. She knew the damage that their gun was going to do as they fired.
Too bad they didn't know the damage Tim was going to do to them when he descended like the night terror he was.
She could see his escape route and his swing up to them. She laughed lightly before straightening up. She twists to the side of the building, planting her foot on the edge and pushing off the building. She wasn't reaching for a weapon unless she was sure she needed it.
She lands, knees bent and springs forward.
"There's two of them, let's get going," Her fist connects with the guys face.
"He broke my sodding nose!" the bald girl shouts.
She wants to quip. Quipping was a thing, she was an addict, she is not too proud to admit that. The first step to recovery and admitting your problem.
She dances with her partner for a bit. Striking out and dodging. He kicks and she jumps. He kicks for her face and she drops to her hands and feet. His leg iss coming down when she drives hard for him, hitting a series of jabs going up his back before striking him in the neck.
The flash caught them both off guard. The flash made them dizzy, disoriented and clenching their eyes closed.
When Steph opens her eyes, Tim is coming for her. He swings for her, she dodges. They do this dance for a while, she’s not about to drop him, not when he’s swinging like this. He’s angry. There is something wrong with Tim. She can feel it in his movement, in her gut.
“Qui êtes-vous?” Who are you. He demands and she back flips over his kick with a chuckle.
“Je pourrais ça tu poser,” I could ask you that. She lightly kicks his ankle and dives away from him.
“J'ai demandé en premier,” I asked you first. He says, his hands are up, ready to strike if she moves towards him. He tilts his head lightly to the side but doesn’t come for her.
“I am Red X,” She smiles under her mask and gives him and exaggerated bow. “Welcome To Paris Mister...” It hangs there the question a statement.
“Red Robin,” He replies and lowers his hands.
“What brings you here? Your friends?” She straightens herself up right and tucks her arms behind her back. Her hands fold together and she blinks at him from behind the lenses.
“They are not my friends. They are dangerous people you shouldn’t get involved with,” He’s got that look on his face. While in his jaw. It’s a heavy feelings. He’s trying to figure her out. She has an air of familiarity about her, but he can’t place it. Good she doesn’t want him to.
“Well I’m a dangerous Lady,” She laughs lightly and takes a few steps towards him. He looks relaxed but his defenses are up.
“Red X you said?” He nods and looks at her. “It suits you,”
He knows. She knows that he knows. He knows that she knows and it’s okay.
“Don’t be a stranger if you need help Red Robin,” She smiles under her mask. Hides behind her voice. “We Red’s have to stick together,”