Chapter Text

Chapter One: 10-12

Bloodhaven was not Gotham. For several reasons. First and  foremost; there was no Batman. It may be just as corrupt and dark, but it was NOT Gotham. The clouds hung overhead and the rain dulled the sound of the city only ever so slightly the same way. Thugs dealt to minors and the politicians were easily bribed the same way. The smell of rats and shit drifted from the sewers the same way. And the police force was crooked and full of nasty individuals who had no actual respect for the law, in the exact same way. Except for one difference. Bludhaven had one vigilante who struck terror in the hearts of criminals. One officer who was an upstanding citizen who only wanted the best for the city. But unlike Gotham, they were the same person; Dick Grayson.

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson, of the Flying Graysons, former Robin, all grown up with a new name and the same purpose. Justice.

It may have been called ‘The Narrows’ here, but it was no different than the ‘Crime Ally’ of Gotham. Which is why Nightwing was currently patrolling the area. There had been rumors of a new power at play. Someone was killing drug lords one by one, and Dick wanted to know who. Any murder spree on criminals was a sure sign of heavy movement in the crime world. Bad news. There was no telling how much of Bludhaven this new party wanted. Which was dangerous. 

So, Nightwing scoured the Narrows, made inquiries. His current informant, while a bit rough around the edges, had always been a good source of information. In this particular moment, Nightwing knew there had been an encounter with this new mysterious person.

“Honest Mr. Nightwing. I didn’t see nuthin’.” Robbie said, “All’s I know is that Rocket and Goony was about to beat my hide real good.”

“Why would they do that?” He asked with concern.

“ ‘Cause I spent their money on pampers for my lil’ sis instead of forkin’ it over.” The boy said sadly. “I was gonna pay ‘em back after I lifted the cars they wanted, but they said I was too late. They was gonna rip me a new one.”

Nightwing crouched down so that he was level with the kid. “But they didn’t?”

Robbie shook his head, “No sir. I heard some gunshots and next thing I knew they was both on the ground bleedin’ and what not.”

The fact that the kid was unfazed by the brutal murder right in front of his face caused an ache in Dick’s chest to form. The freckled face in front of him wasn’t scared at all. Just tired, framed by bruises and dark circles under the eyes. A child caught up in the struggles of poverty and desperation. Still, Nightwing couldn’t let this go. “Did you see him? The shooter.”

Shaking his head the young boy made a motion over his heart, “Scout’s honor. I didn’t see nothin’. I hightailed it out of there before I got holes in me too.”

Nightwing hummed thoughtfully and sighed. The investigation was going nowhere. Reaching down, he ruffled the boy’s curly red mop of hair and stood. Robbie was a troubled child, but he only did what he did to survive a harsh life in the Narrows. “Robbie, I need you to do me favor.”

“I’ll find out who it was! I can-”

“No.” He said firmly. “I don’t need you asking around.”

The boy was silent, finally showing a bit of the nervousness he tried his best to hide as he chewed his bottom lip. His expression gave away his confusion, but a look of resolve bloomed on his face in a way that reminded him too much of… Jason. “Anything Mr. Nightwing. Whatever you want just don’t tell my ma on me. Or ya know… lock me up.”

Nightwing nodded. “Good. Promise me you’ll do exactly what I tell you and nothing else.”

Robbie nodded quickly with wide eyes; a mix of excitement and fear at the prospect of working with a vigilante. There was just enough innocent youth in the kid to still be enamored with heroes instead of being brainwashed by the streets. “I promise.”

“I want you to go home. I want you to play it straight, take care of your sister and mom. Don’t run drugs and don’t lift cars. I need you to stay out of trouble and go to school like you should. No more skipping and no more street fights.”

“What?”

“You promised. Anything I asked.” He smiled.

“Yeah, but you didn’t-”

“You promised me didn’t you?” Dick said cheerfully. “Robbie, you’re a smart kid. You can make something of yourself. I know you can. You’re a good kid.”

The boy pouted for a minute, but then his shoulders relaxed and his eyes watered. “I don’t know.”

Nightwing placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, gripping it softly, he spoke with all the warmth of a big brother and not a Vigilante who exacted justice on criminals. He took out a card for some local social worker and handed it to the boy. “Just try for me okay? I think you can do this. I know you can.”

There was a moment of silence between the two. A boy looking up at his favorite hero and Nightwing looking down at a young boy who had his entire life ahead of him. Robbie’s eyes watered and he nodded slowly taking the card. “ ‘kay. I can try.”

Nightwing smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair again. He really did just want what was best for the kid. 

“Aww. That’s just too precious.” A voice sounded from the darkness. “I think I’m gonna tear up.”

Dick swiveled around to the dark figure standing in the shadows so fast he nearly knocked Robbie off his feet. The boy stumbled slightly and reached a hand out toward Dick who moved in front of him protectively. “Robbie. Run. Get out of here and go home.”

“But-”

“Now!” The older man’s voice shouted.

The kid nodded and scrambled backwards toward the main street before turning away from the ally in a full run. Squaring his shoulders and pulling his escrima from behind his back, the vigilant prepared himself for a fight. The mysterious person clapped as he took a step forward. He was still obscured in the darkness of the ally, but all Nightwing had to do was switch on his night-vision and he would have the obvious advantage. An impressed sounding whistle cleared the silence. “What a show! I mean, you had me wanting to pull out my bon-bons and hit replay. Very emotional. I may even have to buy the DvD.”

Nightwing fumed, of course. Nobody else talked in a teasing manner like that. Not to mention the voice was all too familiar. “Hood.”

The man stepped fully into the flickering light of the lone street lamp with his hands raised. “Present.”

“What are you doing in Bludhaven?”

“Oh? Is this the part where you interrogate me?” He laughed. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Nightwing frowned and took a step closer. Black gloved hands twirled the blunt weapons pointedly. “I can definitely do better if that’s the way you want to play this.”

“Play?” Jason laughed mockingly as he rested a hand on his hip.”Are we doing good cop or bad cop?”

“How about criminal egomaniac and the justice system?”

“Nah. Doesn’t suit you. Not in that getup at least.” Hood snorted.

Dick rolled his eyes. Red Hood was never one to get straight to the point. “Whatever. Why are you here Hood?”

“Vacation, with a little Spring cleaning.”

Nightwing frowned. The choice of words was deliberate. Jason was always doing this; hinting at his true motives without giving away the real secret. “Cleaning? Is that what you call it? Murdering drug lords and taking over their business?”

“First of all, “ He said, holding up one finger. “That hurts. Do you really think I’m so terrible?”

“Yes.”

“Ow. Hit a little lower.” He sassed back. “Second, If I wanted to take over a new territory, trust me… I would make sure you knew it was me.”

The logic, while disturbing, was actually sound. The Red Hood had never been shy about his dealings with any mobsters, murderers or rapists. When he was in town, every criminal knew who they would be answering to. Still, the bright helmet shining in the light and the guns clearly showing from beneath his tanned leather jacket indicated he wasn’t here for socializing. This was business.

“Say I believe you about not taking down the drug lords? What does that mean? Why are you here?” Nightwing said stowing his weapons before he crossed his arms in obvious annoyance.

Jason laughed and rubbed the back of his neck as if he was thinking. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to pay an old friend a visit?”

“If by ‘old friend’ you mean a fellow gangster? Yes.”

“Oh really? Didn't know you had switched sides, Goldie.”

Nightwing scoffed, “Oh please. Drop the act Hood. There’s no way you came all the way to Bludhaven to see me.”

The Red hood stood up straight. His fist visibly clenched, but he showed no other signs of aggression. By all appearances, this was just him becoming serious. This was his business attitude now. “Well, you’re not wrong, but I am here talking to you for a reason.”

There was a pause between the two that passed with only the sound of dripping water and cars in the background. A loud silence that could only be understood by those who had grown up in a large city like them. After a moment of the two waiting for the other to speak, the older finally broke. “You’re serious. You’re… actually serious. You came out here tonight to find me and not because you were on another vengeance trip?”

“Guilty.” He replied holding his hands up as if he was surrendering.

“Is that a confession?” Nightwing’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly with a smirk. As playful as he could be, Dick wasn’t really sure if he wanted to know what the other man wanted. This was just the wrong time and it was still not certain he wasn’t behind all the criminal murders. “Whatever you want, I don’t care. Get out of my city.”

“Oh come on, you don’t want to hear my full statement officer?”

“Hood!” he shouted, whipping around to ensure nobody had heard the accusation. Secret identities were fragile. Tim had proven to the entire bat family how easily two and two could be put together. A vigilante and one of the only upstanding policemen in the whole of Bludhaven? Even Dick could admit he walked a fine line with his own cover. Of course, Jason knew that. The younger man never wasted an opportunity to bait any member of the bat family. It was a low blow, but Dick wasn’t going to pull on that hook. He wouldn’t give him the Hood the satisfaction. As much as Jason vocalized his disdain and hate for the entire bat family, He was always there for them if needed. In some strange way, Dick could understand the animosity He too had been under in Batman's shadow. With that thought, Dick relaxed. If Jason was here for a reason, it must be a good one. “Okay. I’ll bite. What do you need?”

Jason’s stance became guarded as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I need you to stay out of my way.”

Scratch that. Nevermind. Jason was not one for good reasoning. “You’re joking.”

Jason shook his head.

“Have you lost your mind?”

The younger laughed, “What? Again? Not likely, bird brain. A person only gets 15 minutes of fame.”

Dick had no words. What could he say? This was so textbook Jason to make demands that were absolutely ridiculous followed up by snark and his own brand of twisted humor. Nightwing wasn’t going to step down on this. Bludhaven was his. Even Batman respected his Authority over the city.

“I have some business here. Something I’m working on. I don’t need you interfering in this.” He said firmly.

“Absolutely not. Anything that goes on in my city is my business. You have something to do here, you tell me what it is and you help me handle it.”

Jason Laughed, “You sound a bit possessive there Nightwing, I don’t see your name on the lease.”

“You need something from me, tell me what it is.” He stated. “Don’t bullshit around this. If you didn’t need my help you wouldn’t have tracked me down.”

“I don’t need or want your help. I need you out of the way.”

“What is it? What’s going on in Bludhaven that doesn’t involve me?” Dick demanded.

He couldn’t see Jason’s face under the helmet, but he knew without a doubt that he was smirking. “Classified”

“Oh please. Your team is all about making loud noises and big moves.”

“First of all, don’t talk about my crew like that. Second, they aren’t involved in this. Unlike you, they know when to back off and let me handle something.”

“So, the Outlaws aren’t here? It’s just you?” Dick asked, confused.

Red Hood stretched his hands out in a ‘Ta-daa’ sort of way that almost looked like he was welcoming a hug. “Just me.”

The other man’s flippant attitude wasn’t going to catch Dick off guard though.“And why exactly is the red headed death squad not here backing you up?”

“It’s personal.” He said flatly. There was no intonation in his voice. Nothing to reveal what exactly he meant by ‘personal’. It was said as a statement of fact. As if Nightwing truly had no business to know what was going on. “I’m handling this myself.”

”I don’t give a flying- “ Dick stopped himself before he could become even more worked up and give in to exactly the reaction Jason wanted. “I don’t care. Leave Bludhaven. You aren’t needed here and you are definitely not wanted.”

“Oh yeah. I’m used to that. Been hearin’ those words all my life Flyboy. You ain’t changing my mind.”

And there it was. The tiniest slip. Jason’s accent had changed. Subtly, but even so… He meant it. Whatever this was, it was extremely personal. Not Red Hood personal, no, this was Jason Peter Todd Personal. Street Rat turned an exactor of vengeance for all those who lived in poverty and desperation. It rattled him. Something was wrong. Even knowing what Jason’s track record showed of his methods, Jason was still operating on some form of moral standards. “Listen, I don’t really want to fight with you. Just give me something. Anything.”

“No can do.” That flat tone again. He wasn’t going to loosen his stance.

Dick sighed. Maybe he could try to appeal to Jason as family. “Come on Little-Wing.”

“You’re fucking kidding me! Don’t call me that and don’t go all loving big brother on me After you were just chewing my head off!” He spat. “I didn’t come to you for brotherly bonding or whatever family love you somehow think exists between us.”

And just like that, Dick back to being pissed. “Then why even come tell me!? Why not just do whatever and leave without my knowing?”

“Not so confident in your abilities then are you? To think that I could operate here without your knowledge.” He laughed. “Really Nightwing. I thought this was your city?”

That was it. Dick lost his composure completely. Gripping Jason by the collar he pushed him backwards against a dumpster. “You’re fucking child you know that? Any time someone reaches out a kind hand and offers you help or love, you bite it off.”

A hand reached up and for a split second Nightwing’s own inched back toward his weapon, but Jason did nothing violent. He only unlatched his helmet and threw it to the ground. “Are you seriously going to try to convince me that the little nickname drop wasn’t you trying to manipulate me?”

“I’m not.” Nightwing loosened his grip.

“You wanna act like I’m still family? Don’t expect me to get all the warm fuzzies. I came here as a warning. A professional fucking curtesy. I don’t want you interfering. That is the only reason I came to find you tonight.”

Dick felt a pang in his chest. Jason was right, Dick had tried to use his familial ties to manipulate him into sharing. It was only pushing the younger away now. The silence was a confirmation. Right as Dick was opening his mouth to apologize, Jason spoke up again. “You can call it a kindness; me telling you I’m here, or you can take it as it is; a warning. Who cares, but however you choose to interpret what I’m saying, Just know… I’m deadly fucking serious. Stay out of my way.”

With a heavy sigh of frustration, Dick pushed the man out of his grip. The fact that Jason was telling him to stay out of it could only mean that somehow, he was already close to the matter. Jason knew how to operate under the radar. “I have a feeling I’ll be involved in this without my knowledge, even if I drop this. Which, I’m not going to do.”

“Right, whatever.” Jason shrugged. “ I could care less what you feel about it.”

“Cut the shit Hood! Why even tell me to back off if I’m not already somehow involved?”

“What if I say I'm trying to protect you Dick. Would that make you feel better? Make me look more noble?” Jason asked. “Whatever you choose to believe, if you involve yourself in this… you’re going to get hurt.”

If it was anyone else, the name drop would have been a terrible slip. Thankfully, most would assume it was just petty name calling. As it stood, Nightwing felt the tension in his body grow. He couldn’t tell if Jason was genuinely concerned for his well being or making threats against it. “Don’t expect me to drop this.”

“Don’t expect me to give a shit about your opinion. I said what I had to say. I’m done.”

“Just like that? You track me down, tell me to stay out of your business then leave?”

“Yep. Just like that.” He began walking away, then stopped to throw up a peace sign. “I guess I’ll see ya around Bigbird.”

“Count on it Hood.” Nightwing replied as he watched Jason grapple away. He wanted to follow, but logically, he knew that Jason wasn’t going to be doing anything just yet. Not when he had already just issued Nightwing a warning. He wasn’t that stupid. He hoped.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: 10-86

The following morning, Jason’s departure after their argument was still rolling around Dick’s head. The younger man was nothing but contradictory statements. It left his mind wracked with questions. The churning curiosity and concern threatened to consume him. This was just one more thing Dick didn’t have time for. After all the inquiries he had made last night, he had gotten nowhere. He’d tailed the other man for a while before eventually losing him. Red Hood was good at avoiding Bats. It bugged him. He hated the way everything just felt so up in the air. He needed more information. Not just about Jason, but about what was going on with the murders. Hopefully, he would get it in the daytime as he looked into the matter again, this time as Officer Grayson.

With that thought he pulled himself out of his bed and donned his other blue and Black uniform. Instead of wingdings and gadgets, his belt now held a walkie and gun. A gun that he never used. Not leathaly anyway. A shot to the leg could take down any offender just as well as a fatal one. Of Course, the rest of the force just assumed he was a piss-poor shot. No. He was very accurate. He just had a different target in mind.

As he brushed his teeth a ping! sounded on his cell. Dick spit out his toothpaste and opened his messages. It was from his former Partner O’neal 

[O’Neal, B]

Head’s up. We have a new lead.

Dick waited as the thought bubbles popped up to indicate O’neal was still typing.

[O’Neal, B]

We may have a bit more to worry about than a couple of druggies getting popped.

Dick frowned. The man was a hard ass when it came to criminals, but even Dick knew that addiction wasn’t always the fault of the person. A very unpopular opinion on the force lately as drug busts had become more violent. Deciding to ignore his former partner’s choice of language, he shot a quick text back. 

[Dick]

What changed?

 

[O’Neal, B]

We got a new vic. Our killer has changed his targets.

 

[Dick]

Are we sure it’s the same guy?

 

[O’Neal, B]

M.O. fits, 10mm two in the chest, one between the eyes. 

Professional. No confirmation on ballistics yet…

but I would bet my BMW that it’s the same guy.

[Dick]

OMW

It only  took a about 10 minutes for Dick to get to the station and as soon he walked in he was greeted by Butch handing him a file. Dick opened it with an impressed whistle. “I guess ballistics got back.”

O’neal grit his teeth and nodded.

Dick flipped through the report as he walked over to where his desk was right across from Butch’s. The bullet was indeed the same Caliper, but the striations weren’t consistent with the other bullets they'd found. Similar and possibly the same make, but there was really no way of matching it. Dick closed the file and handed it back to Butch. “Alright, just tell me. What is it?”

“Inconclusive.” The older man grunted out between clenched teeth.

“Well, yeah. Obviously, but why are you bringing it up if we don’t know for sure it was the same guy?”

“Because it’s bullshit!” Butch growled. “I know it’s the same guy. No-one kills like that, it’s too clean.”

Dick agreed. Something about this wasn’t adding up. “You said he’s switched Targets? Who’s he after now?”

“Vic’s name is Demitri D. Morafski.”

“As in the Markovian Mobster Demitri Morafski?” He asked in shock. That was one high profile target. Whoever this person was, he wasn’t afraid of the Mafiosa. No-one went after the son of a mob boss without serious plans. Or a serious deathwish. Things weren’t quite adding up though. “Morafski’s not drug dealer. As far as we can tell, he’s just a shady businessman who owns half a dozen laundromats and a nightclub.”

The older man sat down and pulled up the victim’s file. “No real record, but he’s been a suspect of a few different crimes.”

“Money Laundering?” Dick asked. Most common illegal practices for someone connected to the Mafioso.

Butch grimaced with a face that clearly said is was something less savory. “Two of his businesses were investigated for illegal workers and his nightclub ‘Temple’ was shut down for a few months under suspicion of prostitution.”

The implications were obvious. He was a trafficker. They had been trying to pin the Morafski family for trafficking women into the U.S. for years, but no concrete evidence had been provided. It was on Nightwing’s to-do list and he had been working on gathering enough evidence to put them behind bars, but he could only ever scratch up the small fries. Scapegoats basically. Various people who owed money to the wrong people and were willing to take the fall to protect their families. It was an endless frustration, but he had only come to two conclusions; either the man was actually an upstanding citizen(unlikely), or he was smarter than he looked. There had also been a fair amount of evidence that Demitri didn’t know what was going on in his own business. Partially because it was run by his older brother Martine. The two had an odd relationship. Calling eachother DeeDee and Mary while on calls. He knew this because he had tapped their phones as Nightwing. His other persona was useful like that. The amount of red tape he would have had to go through to do it legally would have held him up for weeks. Not to mention that without a more solid foundation for an investigation, chances are he wouldn’t get the green light.

“Okay, so now we’re looking at a serial murder of criminals in general?” Dick asked. The idea didn’t sit well with him. It honestly sounded like something Jason would do, but then again, these murders had been happening for a little over 3 weeks.

“Maybe. Something isn’t sitting right with me.” Butch said, “First Petty theives and Junkies now all the sudden he’s offing a Mafia Prince?”

“This is becoming a huge problem.” Dick confirmed.

“And our problems are about to get a bit more complicated.” Butch agreed.

“Even more complicated than our serial killer suddenly picking new targets?”

O’neal sighed and shook his head. “Chief wants us to work with another department on this. The hotshots who run vice on prostitution and human trafficking.”

Dick groaned loudly and plopped down into his seat with his hand over his face.

“Yeah. I know.” The man nodded in agreement.

Dick wanted to laugh from the ridiculousness of it all. Investigating, as both Nightwing and Officer Grayson was risky, but now he had to deal with vice. He’d have to keep his wits about him. O’Neal he could handle. He’d vetted the guy already way before they’d become partners. Secretly of course. “Who are we working with? Please tell me it’s someone I know.”

“One, you do. Jose. Remember that guy?” He asked, trying to jog Dick’s memory. “Made those amazing empinadas at the Christmas party?”

“Rodriguez?” Dick asked

Butch Nodded. “Yep.”

Oh yeah, That guy was awesome. Who else would bring homemade mexican food to a christmas party, but an absolute genius? Jose wasn’t bad. The guy was fairly chill. Which was saying something, because those guys in vice were usually some real hard asses. “And the others?”

“Two typical hot heads. Younger and new to vice. Just joined about a month ago.” Butch took a second to lean in and talk a bit quieter. “Between you and me? Odd timing considering…”

“Are you.. Implying?” Dick whispered.

Butch scrubbed at his five’o’clock shadow and frowned. Eventually he shook his head. “Nah. I’m just saying this is gonna look good for them if they help nab this guy. Major kudos if you know what I mean.”

As he looked into the brunette’s eyes, Dick could clearly see he didn’t want to believe a fellow cop could be involved in this kind of work, but he didn’t completely throw the idea out. O’neal was always distrustful of any new people in the unit. He’d had his fair share of fights with those individuals in the past. The man wasn’t hated by any means, but narqing on a fellow officer was kind of taboo. Butch walked a fine line. “Alright. I hear what you’re saying.”

“Might want to get your tights out for this one Grayson.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t want to Tango with these two.”

His chest felt heavy with sudden anxiety and he wondered for a moment if his nightly activities had tipped the man off somehow. O’neal was smart and Dick wouldn’t put it past him to have figured it out. Then again… It wasn’t uncommon for fellow officers to poke fun at his past. Dick decided to take it as the joke it was most likely intended as. “I’m not a dancer, Butch.” 

“Trapeze. Whatever.” He laughed. “Just get ready to deal with some real assholes.”

Dick nodded. He had dealt with assholes all his life growing up as Bruce Wayne’s ward. This shouldn’t be any different. Vice liked to think they were the elite tough as nails guys. That they were so much better than anyone else because they operated under different parameters and could get away with shadier methods. It was no different than the ‘Old Money’ types who attended Bruce’s gala events. Yeah, he could handle this.

As they finished their coffees, both Dick and Butch headed for the breakroom for a refill. They were going to need an extra dose of caffeine to keep on their toes during this briefing. Of course, Dick needed more information. He wanted to do his own investigating on vice in his other persona. Nightwing could get more information under the radar than Officer Grayson. As he eyed his partner, he finally spoke up, “So these new hot shots, got any names?”

Butch nodded, “ Yeah. Danny Matlock, former beat cop, recruited to vice after being passed over for detective. He’s a firecracker, but he’s young. Shouldn’t be more than a headache. The other guy, he’s the one I’m worried about.”

“What makes you worry about him?” He inquired nonchalantly.

“He’s a headcase. Transferred from Gotham.” Butch said passing the spoon to Dick before continuing. “He has a record from Gotham PD. He’s been a little too harsh with the delinquents. So of course Gotham transfers him here.”

Dick sighed, “Of course they did.”

“He’s got enough pull to not be suspended though. Must come from money or something. Rich bastards are all the same. God only knows why he wanted to be a cop in the first place.”

Nightwing was definitely going to be investigating this guy. “What’s his name?”

“James Batson, Goes by J.T. apparently. ‘T’ is for Todd, his middle name. He acts like a Todd too. Surprised he isn’t named Chad or Brad.”

Dick freezes. No. No way. There was no fucking way. This was just a weird coincidence right? It would be way too difficult for Jason to come up with an alias strong enough to get him into Bludhaven’s police department right? He would have needed help. Like… Oracle level help. Tim level help. No way could Jason have come up with a strong enough documented history… could he?

As if Dick’s mind wasn’t already reeling with the information, Butch muttered into his coffee, “Christ. Speak of the Devil.”

“Is this where we all gossip? I thought that was reserved for the water cooler?”

That voice. Oh god. That voice. 

“Of course, we reserve the watercooler for mani-pedi’s. Gotta look fab for the criminals ya know.”

When Dick turned around to look at the little shit who had just entered the breakroom, he dropped his coffee. Dark red hair, shit eating grin, built like a linebacker and almost as tall as Dick. Even with the hair color change, there was no denying it. 

Dressed up in a Police uniform as if he belonged was the former robin turned murdering maniac, known as the Red hood. Jason Peter Todd.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: 10-96

“Woah! Easy there, Grayson!” O’Neal shouted as he stepped out of the way of the coffee’s splash radius.

Kneeling down to pick up the pieces of what used to be one of his favorite mugs, Dick could feel his blood begin to boil. Jason only smirked, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the counter to assist. Their eyes locked at the handoff and the tension was so obviously thick that even Butch was able to pick up on it. Clearing his throat, the older man looked from Dick to Jason with curiosity for a moment before speaking. “Can we help you with something?”

“Oh, am Intruding?” Jason smirked as he eyed Grayson for a long moment before turning to Butch, “Was this meant to be an ‘A’ and ‘B’ Conversation?”

Dick had no words. It wasn’t like he could have dragged Jason out and given him a talking-to. Luckily Butch had always been a talker. “Yeah, Sure. You gonna ‘C’ yourself out then?”

Jason laughed, but instead of leaving he only meandered his way over to the coffee pot to make a cup. “Come on guys. Are we not working together on this one?”

Dick remained silent as he continued to clean the mess on the floor. Just the other night Jason had told him he didn’t want him interfering. Now he’d shown up as a cop of all people in Dick’s fucking precinct. It had thrown him off so much he’d forgotten his ingrained reflexes and actually dropped his drink. If this was going to be any indication of how things would go, he was in for a bad time. Of course, as if to make it worse, Jason handed him the cup of coffee he’d made with a smirk. Maintaining eye contact with barely restrained rage, Dick took a long sip of the drink before setting it on the counter. Some childish part of him felt as if this was a poorly disguised pissing match, but he wasn’t about to back down. Butch would have seen if Jason slipped something into his drink and there was no way the former Robin had gone to all the trouble of making an alias just to mess with Dick. Hell, even if it was… Dick was not going to play this game. “I thought you wanted me to stay out of your way?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he assessed Dick. Most likely looking for what Dick wanted as a response. Most likely it was a test to see how far he wanted to go with the ruse. He was certain Jason hadn’t thought Dick would acknowledge them knowing each other at all, but Dick figured that was what Jason wanted. Or at least, that was what he had been harping on about upon their first little run in. Hadn’t he told Dick this had nothing to do with him? Yeah, no. Dick wouldn’t make it that easy for him. It only took a second before a cocky smile stretched across his face. Both men stood barely a foot apart as they all but squared up at one-another. The red head openned his mouth to say something, but Butch beat him to it.

“Wait,” He said confused, “You know each other?”

Jason took a step out of Dick’s personal space resuming an air of nonchalance as Dick grit his teeth, “You could say that.”

Dick could tell that his former partner had more questions, but before they could be voiced, two other men walked into the breakroom. Matlock and Rodriguez were apparently mid conversation and upon seeing Jason, Jose clapped the man on the back. “J.T! Making friends?”

Jason smiled looking back to Dick using his own words against him, “You could say that.”

That was it. Dick had had enough. He pushed past the throng of men with a roll of his eyes. He even went so far as to not-so-subtly shoulder check Jason on his way past. It probably looked bad from the other men’s perspective too, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let this happen. Whatever game Red Hood was playing, he wanted no part of it. He was on his way to go speak with the chief when a hand on his shoulder stopped him, “Jesus Grayson, Would you stop for a fucking second?”

Dick jerked away in surprise as he whirled around to see a clearly very confused look on Butch’s face. The man had apparently called his name several times with no response. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘What!?’” The older man asked, “You blaze outta there pissed as hell after eyefucking a dude right in front of me and I’m just supposed to be like, ‘No biggie, Another Tuesday.’ What the fuck is going on man?”

“Eye-Fucking. Really O’Neal?”

“Well, whatever you wanna call that murder face showdown.” Butch said throwing up his hands exasperated. “What are you doing?”

“Doing? What am I doing?” Dick asked, starting to sound just a bit unhinged. “I’m about to march into the chief’s Office and Demand-”

“Demand what?” Butch asked clearly growing more frustrated, “A new group of Vice rejects? Why? Cause you got some kinda beef with pretty boy J.T. in there?”

Dick let out a huff but didn’t say anything. Honestly, yeah. That was exactly what he wanted to do.

“Listen man, I don’t know what is going on or how you know the dude and I’ll be honest, from what I know, he’s a piece of shit so it’s probably legit…” He gave Dick a pointed look, “But you gotta know whatever it is, Chief isn’t gonna give a shit. He’s gonna say the exact same thing I’m about to tell you-”

“And what’s that?” Dick angrily interrupted.

“Fucking, Stow it!” Butch snapped.

Dick remained silent as he tried to push his anger down and listen to his friend.

“We have a serial case of murders on our hands with almost no leads for suspects other than a suddenly changed M.O. and a possible connection to a human trafficker.” He stated as if Dick wasn’t already aware of the case. Butch held his hands out as if motioning that there was evidence right in front of him. “That already looks bad considering up until this most recent victim, we’ve been doing nothing but scratching our balls looking for leads. Now, Chief decides we need help from vice and you want to march your pretty panty hose clad ass in there and try to tell him ‘No, I got beef with Mr. Coffee Break’? Please tell me you can see how that looks right?”

Dick let out a deep sigh as he looked away from the other man. Yeah, it didn’t look good. Not to mention he wasn’t thinking clearly. He would obviously be questioned about how he knew Jason and what their relationship was. How would he answer that? Oh, we were both adopted by the same billionaire who trained us to be vigilante’s and that’s how I know Jason isn’t really a cop? Of Course, any cover story he could think of at the moment wasn’t going to be reason enough for why he couldn’t work with one particular member of vice. If anything, Chief would probably just assume he was pissed about having a case pulled from him. The other Officers had already said he was too interested in making Detective. “Yeah, Okay. I see how it looks.”

Butch let out a sigh of relief as if he had just talked a jumper off the ledge. Which really, it kind of was what he had done. “Listen, let’s just make it through today and you and I can go to Sal’s and knock a few back. Then, you’re going to tell me what-ever-the-fuck drama it is that you got with this dude. Sound like a plan?”

Dick nodded, he was certain he was going to tell him ‘something’ at least. He just wasn’t sure what yet. “Yeah. Sure.”

Butch gave him a sympathetic smile as he clapped him on the shoulder. He glanced briefly to where he could see the 3 members of vice shooting the shit in the breakroom before locking his gaze back on Dick, “We gonna Stow it?”

Dick let his eyes wander over to the break room as well. He could see Jason in mid conversation as if nothing was going on. “Yeah, sure.”

The following Case brief was awkward to say the least. While Matlock, Rodriguez and ‘J.T.’ appeared to have no problems, the air in the room was definitely thick. If Dick wasn’t so pissed, he’d be genuinely impressed with how well Jason blended into the group as they discussed where they were at with the case and any leads they may want to sort out so far. 

“So, let me get this straight? What involvement level do we think the human trafficking is at? It sounds like you’ve only got maybe… one guy who was suspected” Jason put heavy emphasis on the word suspected, “of being involved, but you needed 3 guys from vice?”

“You know what? That’s a good point.” Dick bit out. “I don’t think we need you involved in this at all.”

Rodriguez rolled his eyes assuming the sniping was typical territorial cop shit and stepped in. “We read the files. We know the victims were all junkies, homeless or living in halfway houses. From some of the contacts at shelters and halfway houses, these kids went missing briefly before they turned up dead. So we can assume-”

“That these kids were held for a period of time.” Matlock supplied with a bored tone.

Jason shook his head and sat back in his seat. Lifting his feet onto the table in front of him, he sighed as if annoyed. “How do we know they weren’t just shooting up or something. We just assume they were taken, but news flash. Junkies like to do drugs.”

Even for Jason, the statement was a bit cold hearted. Given the young man’s past, most would assume he would care more about getting people off the streets. He knew at one point Red Hood had been a Drug lord in an attempt to ‘control’ the distribution of drugs to minors, but still… this was unlike him. Dick couldn’t just let that sit “That’s a little cold hearted don’t you think?”

Jason narrowed his eyes pointedly at Dick for what must have been a fraction of a second before he shrugged with a relaxed posture. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

Dick looked to Butch for backup, but the man was oddly silent as he took in Jason’s general posture and attitude. When he realized nobody else was going to speak up, he slammed a hand on the table in frustration. “We’re officers of the law, we protect the innocent. No matter what these kids did, do you really think they deserve to be abandoned?”

“Jesus, Grayson. Nobody is saying that.” Matlock scoffed.

Dick looked from Matlock to Jason and then finally to Butch who was pointedly avoiding eye contact. O'neal had been on the force for a long time. That kind of history took a toll on you. A lot of officers felt the same way. When they were putting their lives on the line for people who would inevitably go back to the streets to cause more problems… well sometimes it felt like they just weren’t enough. Dick could honestly say he’d felt the same once upon a time. When Jason had first come back, Dick had wanted to help him more than anything. After his near murder of Tim and the mess he left in Gotham; however, he’d given up trying to reach out to the man. If anything, Dick was hardly a blip on Jason’s radar. 

Rodriguez cleared his throat in an attempt to get everyone’s attention once more. The atmosphere of the room had gone from awkward to thick with implication. “Bottom line, we need to get this wrapped up before it gets even more out of hand. We’re all here for the same reason:To do our jobs. Keep your opinions to yourself.”

Jason rolled his eyes but nodded and the others followed suit with nods of their own. 

Once more, Rodriguez took control of the room and began working out tactics for information gathering. The brief lasted about an hour in total and by the end of it, Dick was still wired with pent up anger. The suggestion for them to pair up and canvas known hangouts of local dealers was taken with immediate irritation at the suggestion that a member of Vice accompany each of them. Dick supposed Butch thought he was taking a bullet for him when he suggested J.T. follow his lead, but Dick was more concerned with controlling the situation. Not to mention, Matlock seemed like just as much of an asshole and he was not really happy to work with the guy. As much as he didn’t want to be palling around with Jason, he needed to be in control of the situation. Get the young man alone so he could get to the bottom of Jason’s involvement.

As they left the station, Dick gave Butch a pointed look, “Watch your back.”

Surprised, the older man looked from Jason to Dick then leaned in to speak in a lower register. “Dick, We’re really gonna need to have that talk later.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: 10-30

Spending the day questioning witnesses with Matlock had been annoying to say the least. Nobody had information, at least any they were willing to give, and Matlock was all but useless with how he scared off most of their potential leads. Dick wanted to tell the neighbors that they were really just trying to help, while his temporary partner was more interested in making threats of implicating their involvement if they didn’t come forward. It was a piss poor version of the ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’ routine and Dick was completely over it. The general population of this part of town was mistrusting of cops to say the least. He’d originally thought that this hot-head from vice was the type to have a chip on his shoulder, but that turned out to be false. It would give too much credit to the guy. In actuality, Danny Matlock was just an idiot with a superiority complex. 

The two rolled up to a local coffee joint for a short break and Dick excused himself to check his messages. Nothing yet from O’Neal. This wasn’t a shock; however, as the two weren’t the type to message like teenage girls. Still, Dick found himself worried about what was going on on the other end. If he’d had a little more warning, maybe he could have bugged the other man’s squad car. If he’d been Bruce, he would have done it way before now… but he wasn’t Bruce. It felt like an invasion of privacy against Butch and he’d never had a reason to suspect Butch of anything nefarious. Even now, this was less about his former partner and more about who the man had unwittingly gotten himself involved with. With that thought, he decided to shoot the man a text like any normal person would when worried about their friend.

[Dick]

No leads here yet. Matlock is a piece of work.

How are things on your end?

It took a long moment, but eventually Butch replied. 

[O’Neal, B]

Nothing yet. Will keep you posted.

Dick rubbed the back of his head in frustration. He had hoped for more than just a report on the case. He wanted to know what Jason was doing. If he was compromising Butch in any way. Realistically, he knew Jason was up to something and wasn’t about to blow his own cover if this really was something important to him. Which, of course meant that Butch wasn’t in any danger, but still, he didn’t like it. He’d already implicated himself by insinuating there was a history between the two, he wondered what Jason would scrap together on short notice. If it was any typical undercover operation involving the Robins backstories, aliases and goals were already pre-planned. In this circumstance, he had no idea what Jason would come up with and he didn’t want to risk contradicting what Butch was undoubtedly finding out.

For the briefest of moments, he considered contacting Jason to find out what he had already told Butch. He squashed the thought down. He wouldn’t go that far just yet. He would question Butch more directly when they went out for beers tonight. As if on cue, Butch sent another text.

[O’Neal, B]

 Stop Worrying about me

Dick smiled. Of course Butch could handle Jason. In the daylight at least. While Jason was working undercover as a cop. Great. Now he was back to worrying. Sighing he sent a text back.

[Dick]

 Who said I was worried, old man?

[O’Neal, B]

You always worry. I swear, your worse than my ex-wife.

[Dick]

Which one?

 *you’re

[O’Neal, B]

Well, I was gonna say the first but after the grammar-nazi routine…

I’m gonna go with both.

[Dick]

Seriously though.

How is J.T.?

[O’Neal, B]

Like any other hot headed cop who was forced onto vice…

Real Attitude problem

Dick wasn’t sure if the attitude problem was really just Jason, or some angle he was trying to work. Jason was always hot headed and belligerent. Usually though, when it came to the job he was more level headed. This had to be some kind of angle he was working. Well, give him a gold Star because he was going full method if Butch of all people was saying he had an attitude problem. O’Neal generally wasn’t as ‘soft’ as Dick was when it came to getting information. It made him wonder once more, what was really going on over on their end. Another Ping! Alerted him to a new message and he looked down to see what O’Neal had sent. 

[Private Number]

Mind your own business Goldie.

The sudden urge to throw his phone across the parking lot was near impossible to suppress, but he managed anyway. Just barely. Whether Red Hood was just overly observant or he had tapped Butch’s phone he wasn’t sure, but he was sure as hell going to figure it out.

[Dick]

You tapped my partner’s phone?

[Private Number]

Former Partner from what I understand. Wonder what happened there.

Dick could practically hear the teasing tone. Even over text Jason’s voice was too familiar. 

[Dick]

None of your business. Answer the question.

[Private Number]

As if I would need to tap Die Hard’s phone to know you were checking up on me.

Do us both a favor and stay out of it before you blow my cover.

[Dick]

Fuck your cover!

What did you tell him?

[Private Number]

Wouldn’t you like to know. >;p

Btw, You blow my cover, I blow yours.

[Dick]

That some kind of threat?

[Private Number]

You should already know

I don’t do threats, Sweetheart.

Just Promises.

“What the actual Fuck!?” Dick exclaimed aloud.

“Uh…” Matlock suddenly said from beside him as he sipped his coffee slowly giving the other man a perplexed look. “Something wrong there Grayson?”

Dick grunted out a quick “It’s Fine.” before taking his own drink and slamming it back like a shot. Hood was full of nothing but contradictions. First he tells Dick he’s in town for his own business, but that somehow Dick would be involved. Then he tells him to stay out of it, but conveniently gets assigned a case with him. None of it was adding up. And what the fuck was with the whole Sweetheart thing? Over the course of his knowing Jason, many nicknames had been exchanged between the two. Never had that one come up. It was like Jason was pulling everything out of his arsenal of sarcasm to purposely rile him up. Deep down, Dick knew he wasn’t like Bruce or Tim. He’d always had to work harder at the human aspect of being a detective. Learning to read people’s intentions wasn’t something he was naturally gifted with. Barbara had once said he was too trusting or not trusting enough. There was never any room for an in-between with him. Which, honestly? Yeah, she was right. Dick had hoped being on the force for a while and working with more legal forms of detective work would help him. Up until Jason had shown up, he had been feeling as if he was getting somewhere. Now though? All that psycho-analysis felt like it was for nothing. People like Red Hood… Crazy People. They couldn’t be understood.

With that thought, Dick looked over to his temporary partner, who was doing a piss poor job of trying to hide his curiosity. “What?”

The young man lifted his blonde eyebrows, “Nothing.”

“Spit it out.”

Matlock sighed, rubbing his donut glaze covered fingers on his pants to clean them. “Man, I’m gonna be honest. You look like you just got news your Ex married your dad or something.”

“Excuse me?” Dick asked in utter shock. What the hell was that even supposed to mean?

Matlock took another sip of his Coffee as he pointed to Dick’s phone. “You’re having like… a text fight or something right? Like, you’ve been pissy all day. No Offense.”

“Offense Taken.” Dick snapped.

Matlock held up his hands placatingly. “I’m just saying. At first I thought it was some kind of like… territorial beat cop bullshit. You’re trying to make detective right? But now… I don’t know. You look like you have other shit going on that’s pissing you off.”

He was absolutely sure he was looking at the other man as if he had grown two heads. Here he was, having an existential crisis about his pseudo brother being able to get one over on him because he wasn’t as good at reading people as Batman and Officer steroids was reading him like a kid’s book at the scholastic book fair. Unhinged was a word that he would need to start using on his Tindr profile to describe himself soon if he didn’t get a handle on whatever the fuck situation was currently going down.

“Does this have something to do with J.T.?” The man asked

Dick jerked violently as he whipped around to face the blonde fully. “How the fu-”

“Dude. Seriously. Like, Breathe or something.” Matlock said calmly. “Even If it wasn’t for the pissing match in the Case brief this morning, everybody watched you shoulder check him.”

Dick rubbed his hands on his face and held them there as he leaned back in his seat. “For fuck sake!”

“Hey man, none of my business. I won’t pry.” he continued, “But like…”

Dick swore if this guy said the word ‘like’ one more time in a sentence…

“You need to stow it or something.”

Dick stepped out of the car slamming the door so hard he could feel the vehicle totter slightly. Balling up his fists he took deep breaths to try and calm himself. Never in his life had he felt so frustrated by one person. And the kicker? He was certain this was going to get much uglier. It was as if Jason was purposely trying to get under Dick’s skin in order to throw this investigation. ‘Personal’ his ass. The guy was doing everything in his power to get under Dick’s skin. Taking one last gulp of air, it suddenly hit him. That is exactly what he was doing. He was fucking with Dick purposely to get him so worked up he didn’t pay attention to the case. If Dick was distracted, Jason could make sure nobody uncovered the truth about what was really going on. 10mm rounds. Like in a modified G20 Glock. Like the guns Jason carries. That precision… There are only a few marksmen who have the ability to pull off that level of accuracy with a handgun. 2 in the chest. What did ballistics say? 2 were long range. One was close. Execution style? It was starting to make sense. He was the murderer. He was trying to slow the investigation down by taking part in it. Butch had said there were no leads, most likely because Jason was throwing them off. Dick would bet money on it that so long as Jason was involved, there weren’t going to be any leads.

Relaxing his hands, Dick let out a huff of laughter. Of course. It was right in front of him all along. He could actually feel the tension leaving his body as he relaxed. Knowing what Jason was up to was the first step. He wasn’t going to let the Red Hood throw him off any potential leads. He took out his phone once more to shoot a message to Butch, something simple to let him know to keep a close eye on ‘J.T.’ when he noticed he already had a new message from O'Neal.

[O’Neal, B]

So, you’re never gonna believe this but…

Mr. Coffee break managed to find us a pretty solid lead.

“What the FUCK!!?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five: 10-60

Walking into Sal’s, Dick found Butch waiting for him at the far end of the bar. He looked like he was already on his second beer but he motioned for the bartender to get another one for Dick. “Took you long enough. Been messaging you for the past hour.”

Dick sat down and held up his busted phone giving Butch a weary look.

The man let out a low, impressed whistle. “Damn Brother, what happened there?”

Dick sighed and took a Drink of his beer. Immediately after getting the message from Butch that Jason was the one responsible for hunting down a solid lead, he’d thrown his phone across the parking lot. Right as a semi was trying to pull out fresh from its most recent delivery. If Matlock had thought anything about the situation, he hadn’t said anything. The rest of his afternoon had been spent with him and Matlock trying to calm the driver down before he reported recklessness from two officers of the law. Dick had quickly offered to pay for the dent in the side of the truck and given the man his personal contact number. Which was actually not in service now. Still, he did plan on getting the guy’s hot-rod flame paint job fixed. Goodbye this week's Salary. He just knew he was going to be eating Ramen for the next week. He took a second drink of his beer as he noticed Butch was waiting on an answer. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

To his credit, the older man didn’t push the matter. Instead, he too took a long pull from his beer. He gave the phone a few seconds of silence in solidarity before he rotated on his stool to look at Dick more fully. “So, I can already tell you had a bad day, and normally I would say we can just sit here and talk about the weather or how the Bloodhounds are totally gonna whoop the Gotham knights this year… but man… we’re sitting on what my aunty in Kansas would call a landmine.”

Dick groaned, letting his head fall onto the bar with a loud thud. “Yeah, I know..”

“So, I’m gonna start this by saying, what in the actual hell were you thinking?” Butch asked in mock surprise.

To Dick’s credit, he wasn’t sure. Was Butch talking about his phone or the attitude from today. Either way, the conversation wasn’t going to be fun.

“I mean, we were partners for what? A year?” Butch asked

“11 months.” Dick supplied.

“Right,” Butch continued, “And not once did you ever menton over our conversations about baseball that you sometimes bat for the other team? I mean, I get how backwards some of the guys on the force can-”

“Wait… What?” Dick’s brain had completely blue screened. This was not in any way what he thought this conversation was going to be. Where in the world was this coming from? Why would O’Neal ever think-

Jason.

Dick was going to kill him.

Butch continued as if the angry look on Dick’s face was nothing. “And you know, I get it. It makes sense. I mean, you were a dancer.”

“Not a dancer! For Fuck’s sake Butch. Not a dancer!” Dick shouted, sounding almost hysterical. “I was in the Circus. I was a trapeze artist!”

“Whatever man! Either way. You could have told me.” He shouted back. “I’m not going to judge you for liking to take it up the-.”

“Judge!? There’s nothing to Judge! I’m not- what!? Taking it up the- What the fuck man?” Yep. Dick was full-on hysterical now.

“But you could have told me how piss poor your taste was.” Butch continued ignoring Dick completely. “I mean, damn brother. Can you not stay away from one red-head?”

Oh God. Oh no. Dick was not prepared for this. His internal monologue was on a repeat of ‘Don’t say it, Don’t say it, Don’t say it’.

“I mean really? J.T.?” Butch asked incredulously. “I didn’t picture you as a bad-boy type.”

“ Corey hauler!* ” Dick exclaimed “I fucking swear, Ka xile ma pe tute!!! **”

“Right… whatever that means….” Butch said eyeing him with concern.

It had been a very long time since anyone had made him angry enough to break into Romani, but here he was. Shouting swears at someone who wasn’t even present. It wasn’t even as if he remembered a lot of what his parents had taught him of the language, but after listening to the carnies hurling insults at each other in the language for so many years as a child… a few things were bound to stick. Even if the phrases were a bit… juvenile. Still, he was officially worked up. Taking a moment to completely down his beer, he slammed it on the bar wiping his mouth as he turned to butch. “What exactly did Jay tell you?”

Butch lifted an eyebrow, “Oh. It’s Jay now?”

“O’Neal!”

“Right, right.” Butch said motioning the bartender for another beer. “Well, he didn’t really say much. Just that you had a stick up your ass and there wasn’t enough room up there for two. So, I kind of put 2 and 2 together. Honestly man, he didn’t sound that broken up about it… so I was only guessing, but your reaction? I'm figuring I was right on the money huh?”

Dick threw his hands up. He'd just unwittingly played into Jason’s hands. Rubbing his face he groaned aloud. He could still deny it, but then really? What good would it do? If he denied it, it would just sound like he was deep in the closet. Which wasn't true, because Dick wasn't even gay to begin with.

Dick was just about to down his second beer when he heard the sudden intake of breath from his friend. The man didn’t say anything as he turned to look down at his own nearly empty beer bottle. He glanced at Dick briefly before motioning towards the door on the other end of the bar with his eyes. At this point, Dick was so worked up, he almost missed it, but the tell-tale sound of the bells on the door made him turn around just in time to see Jason, Matlock and Rodriguez walk through the door.

It was as if Dick’s own personal demons were coming to haunt him for something he had no idea that he’d ever done. The Evil Eye was on him and to Dick’s credit he waited all of 3 seconds before standing up with the intention of marching off towards Jason. Butch grabbed his jacket and hauled him back onto his stool before he had the chance. “Easy there Dick. Don’t start anything in this bar of all places.”

Dick spun on his stool to look Butch in the eyes. “I’m not going to start anything.”

Butch’s face contorted into the shape of what Dick could only describe as a psychic ‘Bullshit.’ Rubbing his hands on his face, Dick let out an exasperated groan. Taking a deep breath, he turned once more to where Jason was casually speaking with his fellow vice members. He then turned back to Butch. “I’m just going to talk to him about the case. I swear.”

“Riiiiight.”

Dick held his hands up, “I swear to god, Butch. All I’m gonna do is talk.”

Sighing, Butch let him go and took another drink of his beer finishing it off. “Just don’t fuck up this case. Whatever gay-boy beef you two have-”

“Butch! I swear to god!” Dick exclaimed as he stood. He knew Butch wasn’t exactly as open minded as he tried to be. A good ole catholic boy like him was raised with the fear of the devil after all, but he didn’t want to try to unpack any of that right now. This whole thing had been a set up from Jason. Revenge for nearly outing him. And by ‘Outing him’ he meant revealing his Alter Ego…. not the other thing.

Straightening his jacked roughly, he let out a breath as he made his way over to the group of men. The bar wasn't exactly busy, so it wasn't like the guys couldn't see him coming. Red Hood was trained to be aware of his surroundings, but he was a good enough actor that he appeared surprised at Dick’s approach. He gave Dick a once over, probably taking in his stressed appearance, before letting a sly smirk spread across his face. "Officer Grayson."

"J.T." Dick replied with as even a tone as he could manage. He was absolutely not going to give Jason the satisfaction of calling him 'officer'. "A word?"

Jason slouched further into his seat and looked from his fellow vice boys to Dick. With a slight tilt of his chair, he gave butch a glance as well. While the long pause may have given the false sense of dramatic effect, Dick could see it for what it really was. The other vigilante was taking in the atmosphere. Assessing the situation, location and separate entities. To most, Red Hood was known as brash and unthinking, but he was trained by a man who put maximum thought into everything he did. That level of training was bound to stick.

Eventually, Jason shrugged and stood up. “Sure.”

Downing the last of his beer before setting it on the table, he gave another quick glance at Butch for some unfathomable reason. Dick wasn’t sure, but it didn’t appear to be silent communication. More like he was once more trying to assess the situation and get a read on Dick’s friend. Pulling out a pack of Marlboros, Jason took a cigarette out as he motioned for the other man to lead the way. Clearly, Jason understood this conversation needed to be had elsewhere.

Dick saw Matlock shake his head with a slight laugh as he walked toward the back of the bar and into the alleyway. Once there, Dick folded his arms across his chest and let out a breath as he attempted to calm himself down. Jason lit his cigarette and took a long drag. The pull of it caused Jason’s face to light up momentarily and Dick was struck with how at ease Jason seemed. While the older had spent the day fuming with rage, the object of said rage was just going about things as normal. Well, normal for someone in their line of business. 

“Jeez, I know I’m a tall drink of water, Dick, but if you keep looking at me like that… a man might get ideas.”

Dick clenched his jaw. He knew the flirty comments were more for teasing rather than actual innuendo, but it was exactly that kind of thing that Dick was having issues with. “I know you have a screwed up sense of humor Jason, but really? Making Butch think we were an item? I’m starting to think your obsession with me is personal.”

Jason was about to take another drag from his cigarette, but he paused. “Wait… Butch thinks we slept together?”

Dick threw his hands up and began pacing. “Yeah, congratulations! You managed to find a cover that would humiliate me even further.”

“First of all,” Jason said, pointing a Dick with the cigarette, “Ouch. I’m a fucking catch, ask your Ex-Girlfriend-”

“Keep her out of this!” Dick Spat.

“Second, I didn’t take you for a homophobe, Officer.”

“I’m not!” Dick quickly corrected, “but newsflash Jason, I’m not gay either!!”

Jason snorted, “Says the guy who used to wear bedazzled outfits with tights.”

“I was in the circus.” Dick said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was getting really tired of having to explain his childhood to every gadjo* he worked with. He’d thought that eventually the jokes would die down as he had become an adult. So far it was an ongoing theme in his life. “Besides, I’m not the one who keeps calling me Officer. Got some sort of fetish for law enforcement you need to talk about?”

Jason just smirked.

Dick ran his hand through his hair, “Would you just tell me what your fucking angle is? Are you purposely trying to piss me off? Because it really feels like you’re going out of your way here.”

Taking another drag from his cigarette, the younger man just looked at him for a moment. His eyes raked over Dick’s clearly tense body before blowing out a puff of smoke in his direction. “Now why would I do that?”

“You know what!?” Dick shouted, “I have no clue, but it really feels like you’re doing it on purpose. Showing up in my city? On my case? Making Butch think we used to be lovers or something? You’re really going out of your way here.”

“I’m really not.” Jason said, looking away for a moment. When his eyes locked back onto the other man, something in his demeanor changed. Pushing himself off the wall, he took a step towards Dick. They were nearly at eye level even with the difference in Shoes, but Jason was built like a brick shithouse. Compared to Nightwing’s lithe build, Jason was massive. Dick wouldn’t be intimidated though. He stood his ground and glared at the younger man intensely. Keeping his voice low, Jason leaned a bit closer. “Listen Dick, I need you to trust in my reasoning. I didn’t intentionally make your partner-”

“He’s not my-”

“Whatever, Ex-Partner!” Jason snapped. “I didn’t tell him anything to purposely mislead him. But if that was the conclusion he jumped to? Let him keep believing it. It makes my job easier.”

Dick had enough. Using all his strength, he pushed Jason back until the other man hit the wall. Within seconds, he had Jason’s shirt bunched up in his fist as he all but snarled out, “What is your fucking game!? Just tell me what is going on! Maybe I can help you, but I can’t do shit if you keep toying with me.”

There was a sound at the end of the Ally and Jason glanced briefly in it’s direction before pulling Dick in and switching their positions. The hastily whispered, “Play along.” in his ear was not enough warning before the older man found himself suddenly being roughly kissed by Jason. It wasn’t a chaste kiss either, it was rough and forceful. Dick regretted the gasp of surprise he let out as soon as Jason took advantage of it by snaking his tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like ash and beer, but his mouth was burning heat that threatened to consume him with every swirl of his tongue. As if the feeling wasn’t erotic enough, hands were now traveling down to his waist where they gripped him tightly to hold him in place. At the first slow grind of Jason’s hips, Dick shivered and nearly returned the favor, but his brain suddenly kicked back into gear.

Shoving Jason away roughly, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while he panted. “What the fuck was that!?”

Jason smirked looking just as out of breath as him. “Come on, I know you liked-”

Dick didn’t even give him a chance to finish that sentence as he punched him square in the jaw.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six: 10-93

Jason laughed and it was almost the only reason Dick needed to go back in for a second hit, but then Jason spoke again. “You’re clearly pent up Grayson. You need to get laid.”

Stepping forward with the intent to grab Jason by the collar again, Dick felt himself being restrained with a thick arm across his chest. Jason was laughing as he felt his jaw and lip coming away with blood. When the younger man noticed the damage the hit had done, he grew serious and took a step forward as well, only for the same to happen to him. Butch and Rodriguez had come out of nowhere to pull them apart. Jason fumed. “You fucking busted my lip!”

“Easy there, kid!” Rodriguez said,trying to keep Jason at bay. If he’d really been trying to get out of the other man’s grasp, he would have done so, but he let his fellow vice member hold him back. That alone told Dick that the aggression he was showing was only an act. He was putting on a show and it infuriated Dick further. Because He had no idea why.

“What the fuck did I tell you Grayson!” Butch growled as he began to pull Dick back towards the entrance of the alleyway. He struggled for a bit before he eventually allowed Butch to drag him away. Matlock had come out of the door and was now looking between where Dick was being hauled away and Rodriguez was reprimanding Jason. He looked surprised and slightly amused at the situation. Probably gloating inwardly at how well he had assessed the situation from earlier. Butch huffed noticing the 3 members of vice eyeing Dick coldly. “Fucking great. I knew you weren’t great at making friends on the force, but you really stepped in it this time.”

Dick glared at the detective. “You didn’t even see-”

“I saw enough!” Butch shouted. “So the dude kissed you. Doesn’t mean you need to bust his face up.”

Dick smacked Butch’s arm off him as he stepped back to look into the man’s face. Was Butch seriously implying that Dick wasn’t in his full rights to deck someone who just assaulted him? “Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah. Fucking Deadly.” he replied, “I’ve seen how hard you punch Grayson. You could have just shoved him or something. You didn’t need to use that much force on the little prick.”

“He assaulted me!”

“Assaulted? Really?” Butch asked incredulously, “He kissed you Grayson. Not like you two haven’t done that before.”

It was as if the whole world had turned inside out on him out of nowhere. He’d worked so hard to get where he was at the BHPD. His only friend on the force was Butch and he’d nearly ruined that when he ran an investigation that resulted in the outing of several crooked cops on the force. Back then, O’Neal had been his partner. He’d tried to talk Grayson out of his outing the crooked cops who’d hindered the investigation by taking bribes to look the other way. When it had come down to it, Dick had done what was right and gone to the press as a way to circumvent the chief sweeping it under the rug. He’d done it under an alias and made sure there was no direct link between him and the news article, but most people were suspicious anyway. They had known Dick was very vocal about his opinions on the matter. It meant he got passed up for his upcoming promotion to detective. Butch would have been passeed up too, but Dick had nearly caused a shit storm already and it would look bad if the two people working on an investigation that turned out to have an in-house scandal got passed up. 

Dick had never had reason to believe that everything that had gone down during those events sat bad with Butch. Until now. Dick stopped walking and put a hand on his former partner’s chest to stop him as well. Looking into the older man’s eyes pointedly he asked, “Is this about the Jones-Rhodes case? Is that why you’ve been so complicit to just let Vice come in and walk all over our case?”

“Jesus Christ, Dick!” Butch exclaimed smacking his hand away. “How are you not aware of the situation?”

Dick crossed his arms waiting for Butch to explain it.

“Look, it’s not about the Jones-Rhodes case.” Butch started, “Not directly anyway.”

“Not directly?” Dick asked. “But it is, indirectly?”

Sighing, the other man nodded. “If you haven’t noticed, Bludhaven PD ain’t like what it used to be, not like it was in my hay-day at least. They’re a tight group, and rough. Everyone does what they gotta do when they gotta do it.”

Dick opened his mouth about to comment about curruption but Butch stopped him.

“I ain’t saying it’s right! But sometimes, Dick, you gotta play the game a little. Watch out for the politics.” He explained. “The Jones-Rhodes case pissed a lot of people off. Meanwhile, you carry on acting like you don’t need a partner to reign you in when you go off finding these sketchy-ass cases. Cases that should be clear and cut, but you won’t drop 'em’ like the chief tells you to. This case? Yeah. It’s a head scratcher, but we’ve been scratching for too long and the press is getting jumpy. People are thinking the force is incompetent. It just looks bad, brother.”

Dick hummed thoughtfully, “I get that. I do. But what does-”

“You really think these guys were hand picked because they were the best of the best?” Butch asked, “They were picked because someone is trying to make us look bad. Or worse.”

“Or worse?”

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “Like make them look good. Either way. I’m trying to keep you out of trouble man. Please, don’t let it be for nothing.”

Wanting something to be true and it actually being true were two very different things. Dick wanted to believe that Butch was telling him everything about what was going on, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. There was clearly more going on than his partner wanted to tell him. Something he was deliberately trying to keep Dick away from. He appreciated the effort. He knew Butch was most likely only looking out for him, but Dick wasn’t trained to just let things go. The exact opposite really. Looking at every single detail and finding the common denominators in the equation was what made a great detective. He knew he would never be as good as the others. Not like the Batman who was already known as the world’s greatest detective, or Tim who was just as smart if not smarter. Even Damian had been raised since birth to be able to follow in the footsteps of great men and was an excellent critical thinker when his temper wasn’t getting in the way. And of course… as loath as he was to admit it, in this current moment considering everything that was going on, Jason was a brilliant Tactician. He’d single handedly taken control of all the major crime of Gotham in just 3 days when he’d first come back to life. His team of red-headed rejects(as Damian called them) were responsible for quite a number of liberations and planet saving events. The man was capable as hell.

So when it came down to what Dick Grayson was good at? There was really only one thing. People. Dick Grayson was good at people. Maybe not reading their true intentions, but he could always break up arguments between his brothers. He made friends easily. Which, in his attempt to become a better and more discerning detective, he had forgotten. He was the best at being an older brother and he had completely forgotten about it.

Of course, these were all the things he told himself as he stood in front of the only possible location he had found where Jason might be staying. He’d looked at Jason’s ‘registered’ address in his personnel file, but that didn’t necessarily mean that was where he was really staying. Knowing the Red Hood, he probably already had at least 2 other ‘safe-houses’ set up. If this wasn’t it, Dick was going to have a hell of a boring night trying to track it down. Sighing loudly, he gathered himself together and knocked on the door.

A few minutes of complete silence passed before he heard several locks sliding out of place and the door opened to show a freshly showered Jason wearing nothing but a towel. A smirk was plastered across his face and Dick noticed the now scabbed over cut on his lower lip. He also had a somewhat nasty reddish splotch on his lower cheek. By tomorrow, it would be a pretty nasty bruise. Dick wished he had it in him to feel sorry, but fuck that. He was only slightly keeping his anger at bay to get this over with. 

“Well, look who it is.” Jason said, leaning an arm against the door frame. His posture was all confidence. “Just so you know, last time someone in a police uniform showed up at my door as a surprise, it was a break-away costume and had matching G-String.”

Dick pointedly ignored the way Jason’s eyes were raking over his body. “Unlike the last person in uniform, I don’t work for tips.”

“So, what? Here to arrest me then? I’m a cop, remember? It’s going to look real bad if you put me in cuffs, Dickie.” Jason smirked at him dangerously, “But then again, maybe I wouldn’t mind the rough treatment.”

Dick huffed and took a deep breath. He was really not in the mood for this whole flirty thing Jason was trying. “Enough! I’m just here to talk.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jason was clearly trying to assess Dick. After a brief pause, he looked around. After he didn’t see anyone in the hall he shrugged and turned to walk back into his apartment. “Sure. Come in.”

As Dick followed him inside, he took stock of the younger man’s apartment. It was messy. Which he knew for a fact was unlike Jason. There was a big 60 Inch T.V on the wall, which again was unlike him, and a stack of sport’s magazines. Jason was a reader. He watched movies occasionally around the holidays with the family, but that was rare. Magazine’s were far from his preferred reading material as well. He usually stuck to the classics like Jane Austen and Keats. The man had never been known to invest too much time in movies. It was eerie how this apartment looked so lived in, but not like it had been lived in by Jason. Dick turned to the man about to say something, but Jason held a finger to his lips.

Watching curiously, he saw Jason pull out a small device. It looked like a radio that had been modified with a large dial and meter on the top. Jason turned the dial and began to walk around his apartment sweeping it as he went. It suddenly struck Dick that he was looking for bugs. When the device didn’t beep or make any sound other than the continuous low hum that had been going since it had been turned on, Jason nodded and turned the thing off.

“Did you think your place was bugged?” Dick asked in shock.

Jason only laughed as he walked into his room keeping the door open. When he dropped his towel, Dick had to turn away suddenly with a blush. He’d seen Jason in varying states of undress before, but not since they were both younger. Not since before Jason had died and come back. He’d certainly bulked up over the years and while Dick knew every member of their family was packing serious muscle, Jason was something else. The man was all muscle and firmness.

“I didn’t think they would get to me so fast, but just in case.” Jason told him. Dick could hear him opening some drawers as he looked for something to wear.

Noticing he could see Jason’s reflection from the unlit T.V. Dick watched to make sure Jason wasn’t pulling out any weapons while Dick had his back turned. “Who is ‘they’?”

Jason pulled on a pair of boxer briefs in a dark color and turned around catching Dick’s eyes in the reflection. He winked, but didn’t answer as he began to pull on a pair of grey sweats. When he deemed himself dressed enough, he walked into the living room snatching up a pack of cigarettes and opening it. When he noticed it was empty, he threw it at the trash can, which was already full. This resulted in the empty pack bouncing off and landing on the floor. He then proceeded to pick up a pair of jeans while searching the pockets and muttering, “Jesus, How do people live like this?”

Dick’s eyebrows screwed together, “What’s with the mess? I never took you for a slob.”

Once more, the question went unanswered as Jason found what he was looking for. He pulled out a half smoked cigarette and lit the already burned end. Once he’d taken a pretty good hit, he let out a puff of smoke and leveled his pseudo-brother with a look. “Dick, are these really the questions you came here to ask?”

Dick threw up his hands with an exacerbated huff. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll get straight to the point. Are you the one doing these killings?”

Jason didn’t look annoyed, but at least he didn’t look amused either. “You seriously think I’m going around killing homeless kids?”

Dick didn’t want to believe it, but… “The ballistics match your guns.”

Jason let out a full bodied laugh, “Are you serious? Please don’t tell me you're serious.”

“This isn’t some joke Jason.”

“Fine.” Jason said, striding past him to reach into a drawer. He pulled out two guns and a hand knife. He all but slammed them on the small kitchenette’s counter. He then took a seat on the nearest stool and motioned for Dick to look at them. “What the fuck is that Dick? Tell me what the fuck that is.”

Sighing Dick walked over to look at the identical guns. Clearly Jason wasn’t just going to explain himself. He didn’t use them personally, but he knew how to recognize what each kind of firearm was. He held one up to the light making sure the safety was on, “Beretta, Full size… semi-automatic. 92X I think. Modified?”

Jason snatched the gun to pop open the chamber showing him it was clear before pulling out the clip. “And this? What kind of bullets are these, Dick?”

Dick took a step back and ran his hand through his hair, “9mm.”

Jason slammed the clip back into place and put the gun back on the counter. “Alright, so once again. You wanna run your stupid-ass theory about how I’m killing random civilians by me again?”

Gick grit his teeth, “Okay Fine! So these aren’t the guns, but I’ve seen your stash houses Jason. You have a fucking arsenal. You expect me to believe you don’t own any guns that take 10mm rounds?”

Jason’s jaw dropped momentarily before he scratched at his scalp while taking a drag of his cigarette. He then rubbed at his face with a thumb as he eyed the man. After a long exhale, he leaned back against the counter. “You really think it’s me.”

After a pause, Dick broke eye contact, “No. I was just being stupid.”

Jason snorted out a laugh that sounded more bitter than mirthful. “Thank Fuck for that. So what is your real angle here Dick? What is your real question? I know I can be a shit, but you’re riding me super hard on this and not in the fun kind of way. You sound like you think I’m involved with the murders somehow.”

Dick took a moment to clear his mind. Since Jason had been in town, other than joining vice and working with the police force. It felt like his only real goal was to piss Dick off, which he was more than succeeding at. “What was the lead you and Butch found?”

Jason’s eyes knit together in confusion, before a look of realization crossed his face. “O’Neal didn’t tell you.”

Dick shook his head, “We didn’t really have a chance to talk about it. After you pulled that stupid stunt at the bar. He told me to head home and clear my head. I’m sure it’ll come up in the next brief but-”

“Dick, stop.” Jason said, standing fully. “Listen to me carefully. O’Neal didn’t tell you.”

“What are you trying to say? It’s not like he purposely…” pausing in confusion, Dick just stared at him as he tried to understand what the other man was getting at. Jason held his gaze for a moment and as he watched Jason’s jaw tick in slight tension, it hit him what Jason was trying to tell him. “Bullshit. There’s no way.”

Jason flicked his cigarette into the sink before letting out a loud curse. He then rushed past Dick on his way to the bedroom slamming the door behind him. Gripping the counter, Dick squeezed his eyes shut and took a few breaths. Butch was withholding evidence. He’d been so adamant in their earlier conversation about not having anything to go on, but now… whatever this lead that Jason had given him earlier. It had to be time sensitive. He was about to pull out his phone to text the man and see if he would give details, but he cursed when he remembered the incident earlier. Great, just great. Things were getting more complicated. It had only been a few minutes before Jason came storming out of his bedroom again. He was in the process of pulling on a shirt as he rushed past Dick again in the opposite direction to grab his guns. Checking the clips individually he placed the guns in the holsters at his hips and rounded the counter into the Kitchen to open a vent near the floor.

Dick watched in stunned silence as the other man pulled out his Helmet and the rest of his usual arsenal. There was a pause as he gave Dick a once over for what felt like the thousandth time that night. “Please tell me you brought your fancy pants.”

Dick covered his face with his hands briefly trying to rub the frustration on his face away. When that did nothing, he looked at Jason again and slammed his fist down. “Fuck!”

Chapter Text

Hey strangers.
I know it’s been a minute—okay, maybe a lot of minutes—and I didn’t mean to leave Boys in Blue hanging. Truth is, I got completely swallowed by another project. A big one. One I never thought I’d actually finish… let alone publish.

Yeah, you read that right. I published a book.

That project? A 121.3k word Horror/Slasher-themed Dark Romance that dragged me through hell and handed me back bloody, feral, and weirdly proud. It's a whole different monster—its own world, its own characters—but it made me realize something:
I’m capable of finishing stories that burn this deep.

And Boys in Blue still burns.

This fic has always had my heart in another way—more intimate, more unfiltered. It was the first place I felt free to be messy, intense, and a little bit unhinged… and it deserves the ending I always imagined.

So no, I haven’t forgotten it. The boys are still alive and waiting. And now that I’m back, more confident (and maybe a little more dangerous), I’m ready to bring them home.

Thanks to everyone who’s stuck around. You’re not just readers—you’re part of the reason I got here.
And I promise… things are about to get interesting.

— 3Point14