Chapter Text
There was a horrendous screech through the air, like a thousand nails scraped down chalkboard, and Tim dove behind a statue to avoid the attack as Hood—vanished. He fumbled the roll, heart pounding frantically at the delay, and popped up again, certain that Hood was right behind him, ready to shoot—
Hood wasn’t anywhere near him. Hood was a good fifteen feet away, no guns, no helmet, looking down at himself in obvious surprise. Tim blinked in a mirror of the same shock—Hood’s uniform had magically changed. There was a red bat outlined on the armor now, and less weaponry than Tim had catalogued before, and when Hood looked up at him, his expression shifted into an emotion that looked very unlike rage.
“Hey,” Hood said, voice oddly tentative, and Tim flinched back when he raised a hand. It was so strange to hear Jason’s voice again. Hood looked around, expression still vaguely stunned, before raising both hands and stepping forward.
Tim kept his grip on his staff. This didn’t feel like a trap, but he didn’t know what else it could be.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Hood said slowly, which was a stunning reversal of his opening statement. “I’m not the Hood of this time, I’m from the future.” What. “I’m not going to attack you.”
Tim narrowed his eyes. Strange sound, momentary disappearance, different uniform, sudden confusion—enough of the pieces were there, but Tim couldn’t trust it. This was Hood. What if he was just waiting for Tim to lower his guard down so that he could—
So that he can what, a bitter voice inside him snarled, get the better of you? Oh wait.
Okay, so maybe Hood didn’t need cheap tricks to defeat Tim. He’d already won, he was just dragging out the defeat.
“Someone was fiddling with a time device on my end and accidentally sent me here,” Hood said, dropping his voice further. Something pinged in Tim—that was Robin’s talking-to-victims voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Tim didn’t want to believe it. Tim wanted to believe it so badly that it ached. “There was this—sound,” he said evenly, trying not to betray that he was buying the story even as a prickle of suspicion formed. “You disappeared for a second.”
“Yeah, looks like Time’s got some ideas of its own,” Hood grumbled, pausing the scan of his surroundings and fixing his gaze on Tim. It was disconcertingly intense. “But you’re safe now,” Hood said, softer, clearly cataloguing every injury. “I can help you to the medbay.”
The prickle of suspicion grew louder.
“No strings attached,” Hood said, hands still up in surrender. “I just want to help.”
The last of the puzzle pieces snapped into place. Hood knew where he was, to make that offer of a medbay. Could recognize the signs of a fight around him, the injuries on Tim. And yet there wasn’t the slightest hesitation, the search for a culprit, the faintest hint of surprise.
“You’re the Red Hood,” Tim said.
“Not from your time—”
“I believe you,” Tim said, because he did. It wasn’t a happy realization. “But you’re still the Red Hood.” And the most damning piece of all—“You knew that—Hood was attacking me.”
Hood made a face but he didn’t try to deny it. He just met Tim’s gaze with something sad in his expression. “I remember this day.”
That hurt.
Tim jerked back, prepared to hear it but still horrified, a moment that jostled the breaks in his ribs. Hood moved forward but Tim straightened, broken staff held out in a block, desperate not to allow Hood the chance for a surprise attack.
There was clearly still a part of him that thought it wasn’t really Jason, and it had been snuffed out like a blown-out candle.
“You’re from the future,” Tim said raggedly, “this future.” Which meant it was real. Hood actually hated him. Hood actually wanted him dead.
“Well, I don’t quite remember this happening,” Hood tried for levity and Tim gave him a hard look. Hood exhaled, “Yes, this future. In my version, I beat you up and left you unconscious.” It made a chill run down Tim’s spine—how badly had he been injured? How long had he been out of commission? “If it’s any consolation, I wasn’t in my right mind.”
Tim immediately zeroed in on him. What did that mean? Did Hood—was Hood—was it not Tim’s fault that his hero despised him? “What happened?” Tim asked, trying to tamp down renewed hope. “Mind control? Toxin?”
“The Lazarus Pit,” Hood answered. Right, he’d been with the League of Assassins. “It’s like-it makes everything you feel stronger. I was jealous of you, but in my right mind, I would’ve never attacked you for it.” Well, that was disappointing, but at least Tim hadn’t inspired rabid fury. “With the Pit amping everything up, it drowned out rationality.”
Tim swallowed. “And there’s a…cure?” he asked tentatively. “Or did it go away on its own?”
“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Hood said. Tim noticed that Hood seemed closer now than he’d been at the start and resolved to pay more attention. “There was an Arkham breakout and I got hit with fear toxin, Joker gas, and Ivy’s pollen all at once.” Tim was promptly distracted because that sounded like an incredibly unpleasant experience. “My heart would’ve given out in the hour, so Tim did some quick calculations and gave me a mixed dose of the three antidotes.”
Tim frowned. “And that cured you?” It didn’t sound like it should’ve worked.
Hood made a cross between a shudder and a wry smile. “The antidote saved my life but reacted badly with the toxins in my system. I spent nearly a month with a fever, trapped in a never-ending cycle of nightmares, having uncontrollable laughing fits and attempting to claw my skin off each second that no one was touching me.” Tim flinched in sympathy. “We don’t know if the Pit was used up keeping me alive, or if I sweated it out, or if the combined chemical reaction canceled it out, but when I woke up, I had blue eyes again.”
Hood pulled off his domino mask and Tim could see Jason Todd looking back at him. Older, wearier, but still Jason, still the Robin that Tim had watched on Gotham’s streets.
“And—and you stopped attacking me?” He couldn’t hide the painful hope in his voice any longer.
“Yes,” Jason said, looking sad. “You’re my little brother, Tim. I am so sorry that I ever hurt you, and I deeply regret this day. You didn’t deserve this.”
It felt like someone had cut the strings holding Tim up. Like the best and worst of dreams, because Tim never wanted to wake up. It was everything he wished so desperately to hear, and now that he had it, he was terrified it wasn’t real.
“Tim? Robin?” Jason was suddenly next to him, and Tim realized that his vision had turned blurry. “Can I help you to the medbay?”
Please don’t leave, Tim wanted to beg. “Okay,” he said instead, and at the first gentle touch, nearly crumpled in tears.
Jason was here. His Robin was back. And Tim knew he wouldn’t stay.