Chapter Text
Where observation is concerned, chance favors only the prepared mind.
Louis Pasteur
”The Bats think he was Jack Napier before he took a plunge in an acid vat but that acid burned away whoever he was before instead of just killing him outright. Now only ‘The Clown Prince of Crime’ remains. I said he’s cursed because there is no way that Gotham would favor some… something that killed-“ the ‘me’ was silent but the whole team heard it just as clearly as if he had said it.
Hotch had noticed how Hood held himself a bit tenser around him. There was obviously something about him that reminded Hood of someone or something unpleasant. Hotch thought that it was most likely his demeanor that put-off Hood rather than his age as he seemed perfectly amenable to Gideon’s presence.
When Hood stopped answering Reid’s questions and instead turned away from everyone, Hotch knew something wasn’t quite right. So far, Hood seemed to almost enjoy Reid’s presence and seemed content to answer most of his questions, with the exception of who raped him. But now, Hood was completely ignoring Reid, instead staring at the book on the side table. Hotch had caught a glimpse of the title and saw that it was Frankenstein.
Given everything they knew of Hood, Hotch probably should’ve expected him to be contrary enough to enjoy reading the classics. With the general demeanor that Hood shows, Hotch would’ve almost expected him to not read anything other than weapons catalogues. But with the intelligence Hood has, it makes sense he would enjoy the classics. Hotch would almost bet that there’s a well taken care of copy of Pride and Prejudice and The Count of Monte Cristo on one of the multitude of bookshelves.
Hotch finished his cup of tea and set the mug in the sink after quickly washing it, figuring Hood would appreciate the effort. Hood apparently had a sense of humor regarding the team and their personalities based on the mugs he had given each of them. Hotch wasn’t expecting to be given tea in the first place, much less in a mug personalized to him. It made more sense for Reid to have a personalized mug, given Hood’s obvious attachment to him.
Despite the apparent adoption of Reid by Hood, he was very clearly not expecting the team to come to Gotham. Being told off for their decision was enough of a hint, as well as the insults. Hood obviously cared enough about the team as a whole to bring them to somewhere safe, somewhere that was apparently his home. Hotch was under no delusions that if Hood didn’t care about them, he wouldn’t have brought them into his home. He didn’t think that very many people knew about Hood’s home and even fewer got invited in.
Gideon quickly finished his own mug and was followed shortly by the others. They took a cursory look into the other rooms once it was obvious he was in a dissociative state and wouldn’t be aware of non-threats for a while. They were perfectly aware that if Hood felt threatened, he would be able to defend himself and it might be to a lethal extent.
There was one bedroom with a full size bed, even more bookshelves practically overflowing with books of varying condition due to age and use, a chest o’ drawers, and a closet. The room was just as tidy as the living room and kitchen with the bed perfectly made and nothing on the floor. The only sign that the room was ever actually used were the small knick-nacks on the top of the chest o’ drawers. A picture of Hood, another male (also in red and with a quiver of arrows peaking above his shoulder) and a female with gravity-defying flame-red hair and bright green eyes. Hood didn’t have the helmet on but he did have the mask over his eyes. They all looked worse for wear but were smiling regardless, as if they had just finished a battle and came out victorious.
The bathroom was just as immaculate as the rest of the apartment, as was the linen closet. There wasn’t much in the apartment that showed Hood’s personality other than the trinkets, weapons, and books.
Hotch didn’t know what to expect when Hood had originally claimed to be taking them somewhere safe. He certainly wasn’t expecting to be brought to Hood’s home. But, he appreciated that Hood didn’t consider them threats to his privacy.
When everyone sat back down, Hotch quietly brought up a point that stuck in his mind at some of Hood’s words. “I think Hood would be amenable to going back to Quantico with us. While he was insulting our intelligence, it almost seemed like he was going to go to Quantico and update our information regarding Gotham himself. He was annoyed with the lack of recent and up-to-date information.”
Hotch could tell that Reid had his own thoughts on the matter as well. “I think he would go to Quantico just to chastise our Gotham Intelligence Unit and dress them down on all the information anyone who goes to Gotham would need to know.” Reid thought some more, various puzzle pieces clearly coming together to form a picture in his mind. “I think Hood might’ve claimed me as one of his own? He’s obviously comfortable with me. And the nickname he gave me: Kid. Given his protective attitude towards children, it seems Hood has decided that I fall under that category, despite me being older than him.”
”He has definitely placed you under those that he protects. I bet that if he were to almost stab anyone else, he wouldn’t have appologised. He still hasn’t appologised to me for knocking me out with a bloodchoke,” Morgan put in. It was true: Hood hadn’t apologized to him for his actions when last they saw each other, despite the opportunity to do so. But with Reid, the apology was almost immediate and without prompting.
Hotch noticed some minute twitches of Hood’s fingers (notably, the trigger finger) but decided that Hood would still be unresponsive. There were also some minute jerks of his chest, with the movement obscured by the armour and Hood’s own general lack of movement of life. The jerks reminded Hotch of the rare occasion one of his team would cry: trying to be silent and not disturb the others but still needing an outlet for their emotions.
He knew that Reid had most likely also noticed, sitting next to Hood as he was, and was likewise pretending for the moment to not. Hotch was fairly certain the rest of the team had also noticed, with the only possible exception being JJ as she was sitting next to Reid and didn’t have direct eyesight to Hood as well as not being trained in profiling.
The team was quietly conversing when Hood’s head tilted backwards and rested upon the couch back. Everyone could tell that the movement was not from lack of strength but rather from lack of will. The movement was one made from conscious effort, signaling Hood’s return from his dissociative episode.
Hood heaved a weary sigh and, not looking at any of the team, said, “I’ve got some apartments you can stay in for however long. No one except for my inner circle knows where this place is, so you’ll be safe.” Exhaustion was thick in his voice, however distorted it was by nature.
He made no effort to move, rather just continued resting in his position. It couldn’t have been a position that was comfortable, given his armour and helmet still firmly on.
Reid was the one to speak, everyone trusting Hood to take Reid’s decision the best. “Where are the apartments? I think we’ll take two if that’s alright?”
Hood nodded slightly and slowly heaved himself off the couch. The exhaustion wasn’t just in his voice, it was infecting his every movement. Hotch noticed that he could actually hear the soft tread of Hood’s steps. It was still much quieter than what someone of his approximate weight wearing steel-toed combat boots should be, but it was louder than the total silence that came from him before.
“The apartments are just down the hall.” With that, Hood left the apartment and started making his way down the hall, not waiting for the team to follow him. They quickly grabbed their bags they had set at their feet and followed Hood who hadn’t gone but a few doors down where he had stopped.
He gestured to one, opened the door, and moved to the one right across the hall and opened that door as well, silently indicating these were the apartments the team were going to be using. Once they started dispersing into their usual room partners, Hood started making his way back towards his own apartment but paused and headed towards the stairs.
The night passed by without any incident. Hotch had something he would call a nightmare, it wasn’t one he’d ever had before so it was completely new.
A ghostly woman who felt like despair and a fractured sort of hope stood in front of him, her eyes seeing through him and into his soul. She felt like a warning and like protection. Alongside the woman were two figures and a small child with a familiar helmet. The first figure was also a woman, this one being Martha Wayne from what research Hotch had been able to do about the names Hood had mentioned less than a week prior, with the other figure being Thomas Wayne. The child must’ve been Hood.
He was emaciated and quite small for the approximate age Hotch put him at- about 9 years old but difficult to tell given the height, unhealthy weight, and helmet. The ghostly woman gently placed her hand upon Thomas and Martha Wayne’s right and left shoulders respectively- a sad look on her face- who promptly vanished. The woman went over to Hood and gave him a possessive hug, causing the boy to vanish temporarily before reappearing as the Hood that Hotch now knew.
A dark object flew by Hotch’s head and sliced through Hood’s throat, where his larynx and carotid sat. Hood went down, the woman gave him another possessive hug and instead of vanishing again, Hood just bowed his head and pressed a button on a remote Hotch hadn’t noticed before. There was a flash of light, then Hotch woke up.
There wasn’t any of the usual off-centeredness that occurs after a nightmare, just the slight feeling of unease and increased protectiveness for Hood. It was almost obvious that the nightmare was showing a piece of Hood’s history and possibly his connection to the Wayne family. Given what Reid had said after the interrogation, they suspected that Hood was somehow connected. While the dream certainly wouldn’t be used as evidence to back that suspicion, there had to have been a reason the two deceased Waynes were with a child version of Hood.
When the others awoke and gathered in Hotch and Gideon’s apartment, they shared the strange dream they had also had. Evidently, they had all had the same dream, with Reid coming to the decision that the ghostly woman was Gotham herself as he had also felt home radiating from her.
After about fifteen minutes of the team getting as awake as they would get without caffeine, there was a polite knock at the door. Morgan went to peek through the door hole and (putting his gun away) opened the door to reveal Hood. He wasn’t wearing his armour for the first time since they had seen him, nor was he wearing the little eye mask he wore the night previous. He was just wearing a red hoodie, a black turtleneck that reached to nearly his jaw (covering the scar they all were just this side of certain would be resting below), black cargo pants, and black sneakers.
Hood actually looked like a person rather than the crime lord or vigilante they had seen him as before. He was holding a tray with a small arrangement of fruits and fresh breakfast pastries in one hand and a tray with the mugs of tea they had used last night resting delicately on the elbow of the same arm.
While it should’ve been expected for Hood to have impeccable balance, it still somehow caught Hotch slightly off-guard at the obvious display of the extent of his training.
Once he came into the apartment, Hood placed the trays on the circular table in the kitchen area. He distributed the mugs to be in front of where he expected them to sit, and dug through the cabinets for a second before returning to the table with plates now in hand.
The table was just big enough for everyone to have a seat and have enough room to not elbow each other when eating.
The breakfast that Hood had brought them was delicious and was obviously made with great care to attention. Reid had asked where they could get more of the pastries to which Hood just pointed to himself, indicating he had made them. When Gideon had complemented his baking skills, Hood had somehow flushed a darker shade than his golden skin-tone, and averted his eyes to stare instead at his own mug. He then brought his hand up and signed Thank you, something they all knew.
After breakfast was over and Hood had cleaned the dishes and brought his own dishes back to his own apartment, the team decided that they (Reid) would ask if Hood would accompany them back to Quantico.
When Hood came back like they figured he might, Reid asked the question. “You mentioned yesterday how our information regarding Gotham needs to be updated, and given our own lack of knowledge concerning the city, we were wondering if you would join us back in Quantico? If you went under an alius rather than the Red Hood, and only mentioned being a Gothamite, then no one would know better.”
Hotch had to admit it was a fairly good pitch, but it might not be what Hood would need in order to actually join them. “Our Gotham Intelligence Unit hasn’t talked to an actual Gothamite since their last trip into the city a decade ago. They need to have their intelligence updated in order to ensure any teams who come to the city are more properly prepared for all the various dangers of the city.”
While Hotch noticed the slight tensing of Hood’s shoulders when he spoke, he did seem to be actually considering their offer. After a minute of consideration, Hood eventually signed something, of which Hotch only caught the basics of.
Thankfully, Reid was able to translate for the rest of the team. “He said he would as long as he gets to teach us some self preservation skills. And yell at the GIU.”
Gideon appeared to think for a moment as Reid was translating then asked, “What should we call you when you aren’t wearing the helmet? We can’t call you ‘Hood’ while in the FBI building or you will be quickly arrested.”
Hood thought for a moment and with a simple tap of his cheek (the one with the ‘J’ scar) answered the question. There was a sardonic smirk on his lips and pain in his eyes as he did so.
Not too long after, the team gathered their bags and knocked on Hood’s apartment door after he had gone back to get his own things ready to go to Quantico. He answered the door and had two duffel bags nearly bursting full and was wearing the little eye mask again. When asked what was in the second duffel bag, he had apparently signed ‘don’t worry your precious little fed heads about it’ and left it at that, regardless of any more prompting by the team.
Once Jay- Hood- had exited his own apartment, it took him at least thirty seconds of arming various alarms and locking various mechanisms. The amount of security would be ridiculously overkill if it wasn’t an apartment in Gotham that belonged to a vigilante who’d died before. The security on the building itself was nothing to scoff at either but was lessened to a noticeable degree with the only exception being the top floor where Hood’s apartment resided. Apparently, the bottom floors were more open for his people.
Before they could start towards the plane, Hood had a few stops to make. “Kids to reassure and people to inform,” according to Reid.
The first stop was a different apartment building, still with the nearly dilapidated exterior but interior in significantly better repair. Almost immediately, Hood was swarmed by children. Each was talking over the other in excited tones, some were climbing Hood as if he was a jungle gym. Jack would do that to Hotch the few times they were both home and Hotch wasn’t too tired from the latest case.
A few of the children who hadn’t immediately covered Hood were staring suspiciously at the BAU, fear-apprehension-what-do-they-want? in their body language. Hood gently spoke, the sound barely a whisper but as loud as he could manage. The ones closest to him shushed the others until the children were all looking at him with rapt attention.
Whatever Hood was saying was too quiet for the team to hear but from the general looks of sadness and the various protests the team could hear, he was most likely telling the children of his temporary leave of absence. Hood’s body language stayed reassuring-calm through the whole visit to the children, but even Hotch had to admit that some of the whines from some of the younger children cut into him. It reminded him so much of when Jack was little and didn’t yet understand why Hotch had to leave him so often.
While Hotch didn’t regret taking this job, it was hard to tell Jack he was leaving for work again and couldn’t keep whatever promise he had made. There have been so many broken promises. Now, Jack just has the same look some of the older children were now sporting: resigned acceptance and long-dead hope. There were only so many broken promises one could take before they stopped believing the next one.
How Hood didn’t falter in the face of so many, Hotch didn’t know. Hood was younger but oh so much older than Hotch, his physical age being only in his late teens while the experiences he’d had made him decades older in spirit and mind.
Soon after they had left the apartment building, Hood pulled out a phone and quickly shot off two quick texts. He made no indication they were of any import, but when he got responses from both he just nodded to himself and started walking.
He rummaged around in his various pockets, looking for something, and made a small noise of victory when he pulled out a small black gadget barely larger than a bottle cap. “What’s that?” Reid asked and in response Hood tucked the object under the collar of his turtleneck, right over his larynx.
”Electrolarynx,” responded the mechanical voice everyone associated with Hood, only without the speakers in the helmet to amplify the voice. The separate electrolarynx brought Hotch to wonder why Hood hadn’t pulled out the device before visiting the children.
Once Hood was certain the device was secure, he dug around in the second duffel bag for just a second and came out with a red mask that would cover the bottom half of his face.
They were being brought towards another apartment building by the looks of it, and before they went inside, Hood donned the mask which, combined with the eye mask, left 90 percent of his face hidden and unreadable. Hood confidently entered the building and immediately headed over towards the stairs, just as he had done when exiting his own apartment building.
Given an elevator was a cramped metal box and Hood having had to dig out of his grave, Hotch understood. The stairs offered space and freedom of movement, while the elevator was already cramped and would only be more so with additional people.
Once they reached the third floor (Hood not winded in the slightest and the rest of the team catching their breath for a moment), Hood went over to one of the apartments and knocked politely on the door.
The resident opened the door a minute later: a male black teen wearing a bright yellow hoodie, body language not nearly as thrilled at the sight of Hood as the children were. As with the others, there was a noticeable tension when he noticed the BAU, suspicion immediate.
”Hey, I’m gonna be out of town for a bit so I’m gonna introduce you to a couple of my guys that you’ll be working with closely. You’ll still have a direct line to me and I’ll get you a few of the Merries’ numbers as well. You can go to any of them if you don’t feel comfortable or if you have questions or anything,” Hood’s mechanical voice somehow sounded soft and understanding despite not having any inflection.
The teen cast a look at the team before looking back to Hood, obviously asking a silent ‘is that them?’ Hood shook his head minutely and said, “They’re just Outsiders who got lost and happened to run into me. Nah, my guys are hard at work on reverse-engineering that toxin.” Hood either didn’t notice the incredulous and shocked stares he received (he most likely did) or he just didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.
Hood waited silently and patiently for the teen to make up his mind, not rushing him or pushing him into the decision. When the teen nodded with fire in his eyes and put on his shoes, Hood didn’t have any change to his body language that showed one way or the other if he was disappointed or proud of the teen’s choice.
”Are your roommates in? I’m sure they would like a chance to rib me again,” Hood asked, humour evident in the way he jutted his hip out and placed a hand on it like a woman looking to spread gossip.
”Um…” The teen looked unsure if he should answer, either due to the presence of the BAU or Hood himself, but eventually answered, “They’re out… right now. Community center and tech, I think?” He glanced up to where he would be meeting Hood’s eyes if the mask weren’t in the way, “I think that’s what they said anyway. They were talking too fast and over each other, I couldn’t really understand.” The teen looked apologetic at the end, as if ashamed at his lack of comprehension.
”You a’ight kid. They’re just like that. I can barely keep up sometimes, don’t matter if it’s English or Arabic. I swear those two do it for fun sometimes.” There was a certain fond feeling the team could sense when Hood talked about any of the children under his care, and this was no exception. Hood acted almost like an older brother to the children, this teen and his roommates being no exception.
”Comm’on kid, let’s go introduce ya to my guys. They’ll be glad of a new set of eyes.”
With that, the teen nodded again and stepped out of the apartment and fell into the group following Hood.
The next place Hood led them to wasn’t actually another apartment building but rather a closed down shop. The outside was just as disrepaired as the apartments were: cosmetic damage and boards with nothing structural having sustained any damage beyond the mere look of structural instability.
Once Hood brought everyone into the building itself, it surprisingly still had the dilapidated look on the inside as well. He brought the team over to some utilitarian seating and told them to “Wait here for a sec. Don’t want any Outside eyes reporting anything back to anyone about what goes on here,” and brought the teen deeper into the building.
Soon both were out of sight and hearing range, piqueing the team’s curiosity as to what happened out of their knowledge. They knew it had something to do with reverse-engineering a toxin, but to what purpose? Hotch thought it wouldn’t be anything too far out of the law, as Hood had openly mentioned it with the team right behind him, and the teen wasn’t visibly upset at the prospect of working with Hood’s men. Maybe slightly apprehensive of being so close to the other teen but not outright upset or protestive.
Within a few minutes, Hood appeared just on the edge of Hotch’s periphery, causing him to startle slightly, unused to the silence of Hood’s movements. “Comm’on, you got a plane to catch, don’tcha?” Hood speaking startled everyone else as they hadn’t noticed him until he spoke.
Hood led them back out of the building and seemingly at random, started walking. After a while, he took off both masks and tucked them away in the second duffel bag. When Reid pointed the action out, Hood responded that they were out of his territory and he “whadn’t trying to pull in any additional attention, what with it bein’ broad daylight.”
Despite it being ‘broad daylight’ in Hood’s- Jay’s- words, there wasn’t much sunlight that made it through the thick layer of smog and air pollution. Nothing like the amount of sun Hotch was used to seeing even when he was living in Seattle. The few pitiful rays that did make it through were barely strong enough for the streetlights to turn off- the streetlights that had gained in frequency since some unmarked border had been passed from Hood’s territory into the next area.
Before too long, they were standing on the airstrip, right in front of the plane. There was again no bridge to be passed over or any turns in direction, just Hood leading them in a straight line and ending up at the airstrip. If Hotch closed his eyes for a second, he could almost pretend the last few hours were just a strange dream caused by simple lack of sleep. Then he opens his eyes and finds it was all real, not a dream afterall.
The pilot didn’t seem entirely surprised at the newest addition to their group but rather like he was expecting someone else. Which, while they didn’t exactly confirm the reason for their trip into Gotham, there were rumours going around about just who the BAU had in their sights, so it wasn’t unexpected for them to be bringing someone on board.
Jay wasn’t at all deterred by the pilot digging for information about who he was, he just greeted the man with a smirk and entered the plane. Everyone else was quick to follow and soon they were in the air, heading to Quantico. Hotch could only hope they didn’t regret this.
Bringing a crime lord into the FBI headquarters.