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It wasn’t like Tim didn’t know it was stupid. Jason had been very clear in the Tower that Tim was going to give up Robin or suffer consequences, and he’d been even clearer that the Bats were supposed to stay out of Crime Alley.
Tim was listening.
Well, Tim was listening the way he listened to most rules he didn’t like: to a T, and no further.
Robin wasn’t in Crime Alley, but Tim Drake was.
Bruce would have a fit if he knew, but it had only been three years since Tim had been running all over Gotham armed with nothing more than mace and an expensive camera. He knew what he was doing.
Tim hadn't brought his expensive camera this time; it would have been too noticeable, and he didn’t want to risk being recognized in civilian clothes in the middle of the night in a bad part of town. He was already a burden enough on Bruce without fueling a scandal that Tim was a druggie or that Bruce was funding orchestrated hits against nunneries or whatever shit the media would make up.
Instead, he focused on making his way quickly and quietly toward the docks. Rumor had it that Red Hood was planning something down there, and if Bruce wasn’t going to investigate, then Tim would.
The problem was that Alfred had been Suspicious™ of Tim’s decision to stay in his room and work on homework while Bruce was fighting off the allegedly more important alien invasion coming toward Earth, and it had taken forever to get him to buy it—or at least buy that Tim was going to stick to the safer areas of Gotham—enough to go to bed. Whatever plan Jason had going on, it would probably be starting any second now. By the time he got there, it might even be over.
Tim ducked into a dark alley, intent on using it as a shortcut down to the main road leading toward the docks so that he’d at least be able to get an idea of who had been at whatever it was Hood was doing based on whose cars were leaving. He had a miniscule camera hooked up to his jacket, streaming directly to his laptop. Assuming he found anything, he could show the recording to Bruce, and if he didn’t find anything, then he could delete the file and Bruce would be none the wiser.
Tim got sloppy in his haste though, and didn’t realize he was being followed until a hand clamped over his mouth and yanked him backwards into a solid, brawny chest.
Tim screamed against the hand on instinct and raised his fingers to try to pry away the hand over his mouth, but Tim was too small and not strong enough to fight the iron grip. His fighting style was about making do with what he had, not brute strength. Once he was pinned, his Robin was pretty much cooked, and the hardening length pressed against Tim’s hips gave him very little doubt about just how well done he would be by the end.
Hot tears of fear and humiliation burned in his eyes, but he wasn’t giving up that easily. If he was enough of a fuss, then maybe the opportunist would decide that he’d like easier prey. Tim thrashed and writhed against his attacker, kicking with his heels as hard as he could against the man’s shins and digging his short nails as deeply as he could into flesh, but all he managed to do was make the dick at his back even harder.
A scraggly beard scratched across his chin as the man leaned down lick a wet line up the side of Tim’s neck and mouth sloppily at Tim’s ear. Tim screamed again when the man bit down hard on Tim’s earlobe and licked over the bleeding wound before kissing Tim’s ear and whispering, “That the best you’ve got, sweetheart?”
Tim screamed and slammed his head back defiantly, crashing the back of his skull into the man’s cheekbone. The man stumbled, and Tim surged forward—
Only to be caught by the back of the neck and thrown to the ground.
“Clever little brat, aren’t you?” the man snarled viciously, straddling Tim’s hips from behind.
Tim didn’t waste time or breath screaming. No one in this part of town could be trusted not to join in on the rapist’s side, and none of his allies were active tonight. Instead, he did his best to execute the move Bruce had been trying to teach him for how to throw off larger opponent—
And it failed miserably.
The man laughed, harsh and cruel. “Oh, you pretty little bitch. I like the ones with a bit of fight in them.”
Fear slammed Tim’s heart against his rib cage so hard and fast it hurt, but he couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let this man rape him, he couldn’t let himself be ruined, he couldn't—he couldn’t lose Bruce, he couldn’t lose Robin, he couldn’t lose the closest thing he’d ever had to a real family, but they were all too perfect for broken goods. He’d just been lucky, fooling them so far.
He braced his hands against the ground to try another throw—
A gleam of silver light caught his eye, and Tim found himself cross-eyed at unforgiving steal three inches from his face.
The man’s other hand trailed down Tim’s side until it found the hem of his shirt and slid underneath, hot flesh searing against Tim’s skin, but he couldn’t move.
That was a knife.
“I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.” The flat of the knife pressed against Tim’s throat until it hurt to breathe even as the man’s fingers found and twisted Tim’s nipple. “But believe me that it would be so, so easy.”
Tim clenched his eyes and went limp, not even daring to breathe as his last few strands of self-preservation tied themselves in a garotte around his throat.
The man chuckled and turned the knife, letting the sharp edge brush along Tim’s neck just enough to draw blood.
Tim was sure he was going to die. The man was going to kill him and fuck his dead body, but then the hand with the knife slammed down against the sidewalk with a hideous shriek of steel on asphalt in an unspoken threat.
The man’s other hand drifted down Tim’s body until it could hook around Tim’s waist and pull him to his hands and knees. The man rutted his clothed cock against his ass and thighs, moaning in sick pleasure even as Tim trembled so violently he might as well have been a vibrator for the man. That—that was supposed to fit inside Tim?
A single sob shook him before he wrestled it back down. He didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of hearing him cry. He just—he wanted to run, he wanted this man off him, he wanted it to be over already, he wanted to be home where Alfred wanted him and Bruce thought he was, he wanted to be in Blüdhaven in Dick’s filthy apartment where he knew no one would ever try to hurt him, but the man holding him didn’t care what Tim wanted.
The man shifted suddenly, pulling Tim back against his cock with a burst of lewd laughter, and Tim gasped in shock. The gasp turned into a near-scream, stopped only by the threat of the knife on the ground below him, as the man twisted his arm so that his forearm was supporting Tim’s weight while his hand dipped down to the button of Tim’s jeans.
Silent tears spilled over as the man worked the button open and the zipper down, and he whimpered when the man tugged Tim’s pants halfway down his thighs with one quick jerk. Tim thought the underwear would be next, but then the man’s hand was suddenly grabbing Tim’s crotch, so tightly it was painful, and twisting viciously.
“So small, sweetheart. I bet you’re going to be so tight for me, aren’t you? I bet you’re a virgin,” the man moaned into Tim’s ear.
And he was. Another silent sob shook him, because he was, and he hadn't even realized until the man said it, but this was his first time ever having sex, and it was already one of the most terrifying, painful things that had ever happened to him. It was going to hurt so much, and the man might have diseases that meant that Tim’s body would never be free of his touch ever again.
And then suddenly the man was gone.
The man’s body slammed into the asphalt with a crunch of bone and a scream. For a second, Tim froze before his brain snapped back into gear and he pulled his pants up and made to get up.
His knees gave out from underneath him, and he collapsed against the alley wall. Rough brick bit into his skin as h e slid down it and fell once again to the asphalt.
With the last of his strength, Tim turned his head to see what had happened to his rapist. What he saw froze his bones, and his stomach fell out of his body like the man had gone ahead and stabbed him anyway.
The Red Hood was now straddling his attempted rapist, raining down blow after face-crunching blow.
This day couldn’t get any worse.
Green burned in his veins and swallowed the world as Jason’s fist fell again and again and again. No one raped anyone, no one fucked kids, in his territory. How hard was that for people to understand? Just keep your dick in your fucking pants and out of little kids.
Bone crunched under his knuckles. One more body would do it. One more body to prove just how fucking serious Jason was about what happened to rapists in his territory.
“You fucking like that?” Jason shouted. “You like pain? You certainly like to dish it out!”
The rapist, the dead man, gurgled on blood and teeth in his throat, and Jason’s rage purred in pleasure, pleasure shattered when the victim whimpered in terror or pain from his place curled against the wall.
Fresh rage rushed him, filling him with the chanting voices of the pit.
Pain, the voice whispered, hurt and pain, make him suffer.
This bastard thought he could rape a child and get away with it. The monster wanted to hurt a child irrevocably, and he didn’t even have the decency to shell out for the kid’s dinner the way Jason’s clients had.
Jason had seen the way the man had held the boy, pulled the boy against his cock and fondled the boy to draw out the torture. It was cruel and heartless, two things Jason had made his hallmarks in recent years.
He would never let this man hold a child like that ever again. He would never let this man live, but he wanted it to hurt first.
Jason took the man’s elbow in one hand and pressed his knee just down the arm from the shoulder, then yanked up until the bone snapped clean in two.
The man screamed, and Jason had to close his eyes behind his helmet. The scream echoed with the voices of every man who’d pinned Jason down in a dark alley and taken him like that. He’d gotten a few, but so many of those men had died or gotten away from the city before Red Hood could track them down and make them pay.
Bitter pain and old fear swelled in his chest, but he shoved it down with anger. Those men couldn’t hurt him anymore, and he would make damn sure they never touched any other kid ever again. If Bruce wouldn’t protect the poor and vulnerable, then Jason would.
“Not so powerful when you’re the one on your back, are you?” Jason snapped.
“I—I have money—“ the rapist gasped around a sob.
“I don’t want your money,” Jason spat, digging his fingers into the boneless break.
The man screamed again, and Jason squeezed tighter.
Death was too good for scum like this. They should have to live with what Jason did to them, everyone they ever met should know what kind of monster they had brushed shoulders with, every person who thought about doing the same kinds of things to defenseless alley kids should see the fucking consequences, but that wouldn’t stop this man. He’d heal up, and he would lie in wait for another unsuspecting teenager to fall into his trap.
Jason had to kill him, but he didn’t have to do it quickly.
The man’s unbroken hand was scrabbling uselessly for the knife that had fallen just a few inches out of his reach.
Unbroken…
Jason could fix that.
Jason reached effortlessly past the man and picked up the knife. It was a shitty knife, but there was a poetic justice in using the rapist’s own weapon against him. He wondered if the kid would like to take a few jabs himself—Jason would even let him get the last cut—but a quick glance showed the boy curled with his knees to his face on the ground, trembling. He wasn’t in a state of mind to be committing any felonies.
Jason twirled the knife the way Talia had taught him, making sure that the rapist could see the way the blade danced and caught the streetlights. Half the battle is won before the first blow falls, habibi, she’d told him as she carded her delicate fingers through his hair after a long day. He had only been half-listening at the time, since he was just grateful that she had taken a break from trying to get him to forgive Bruce and was instead indulging in her occasional instances of near-maternal affection toward him. Talia’s stern demeanor and relentless manner were more like Bruce than he was comfortable with, but sometimes, on those quiet days when they both had a moment and no one was actively trying to kill them both, she could be soft. If Jason closed his eyes, he could almost be eight again, and those fingers could almost be his real mom’s.
Fingers. That was a thought.
Jason eyed the man’s fingers on the man’s good hand. The fingers that had been holding the knife in a threat against the kid…
Jason grabbed the man’s wrist and slammed it down so that the palm was flat against the asphalt. The man tried to twist out of his grasp, but it was too late. Jason was a lot stronger than any Crime Alley kid the man had preyed on before.
He twirled the knife again and cocked his head consideringly. The man couldn’t see the vicious grin on Jason’s face, but Jason could see the horror dawning in the man’s eyes when he realized what was about to happen.
“I don’t like people who hurt kids,” Jason said simply.
He drove the knife down directly through the man’s middle finger, severing it completely. The rapist below him screamed and writhed in pain, trying desperately to get away. It was so vindictively gratifying to see someone else trying frantically to get away.
Jason tossed the finger over his shoulder and twirled the knife again. A drop of blood landed on the man’s cheek and mixed with the tears of pain and terror streaming down the man’s temples.
Jason waited for the screams to die off into uncontrolled sobs before he stabbed through the next finger. And the next.
He waited again, but the screaming didn’t show any signs of stopping.
Jason could deal with that.
He stabbed through the pinky even more easily than the other fingers before stabbing through the thumb. The thumb, thicker and more stubborn—a bit like Bruce—than the other fingers, hadn't torn through all the way. The bone had been broken, but the flesh was still connected on one side.
No matter. Jason grabbed the thumb and pulled it off.
The hoarse screams trailed off into sobs and broken, incoherent pleas, but the Pit wasn’t satisfied yet. The fingers that held the knife were gone, but that wasn’t enough. No one got to get away with what this man had done, not on Jason’s turf.
That arm. That arm that had forced the kid up, that had groped and started to strip a child.
It had to go.
Jason let go of the man’s fingerless hand, not scared of anything the man might try with it, and moved back to the arm he’d broken in the first place. How much effort would it take? Could he get through it before the rapist bled out from his fingers?
One way to find out.
Jason pulled the arm taut to widen the gap between the two broken pieces of bone. He didn’t even wait for the fresh screaming cries to die down before he drove the knife in as far as he could and pulled.
Flesh parted like warm butter as Jason tore the knife through the rapist’s fat and muscle. Blood gushed out like a river, turning Jason’s stomach and making him giddy at the same time.
He pulled until the knife slit all the way through, leaving the man’s arm half-severed. And Jason never did things by halves.
Jason brought the knife down into what was left again and again and again until the barest threads of tissue connected the arm to the body. It was brutal. It was satisfying. It was justice.
Jason interlaced his fingers with the fingers that had groped the teenager and yanked. The arm gave easily, and Jason dropped it to the ground beside the dying man.
The bloodlust was slaked for the moment, and the roaring in his ears died down to a dull thrum of vengeance.
It was enough that he could hear the frightened whimper from the victim who still hadn't left.
Because of course the kid wouldn’t run off; he was terrified.
Jason sighed and stood up to go take care of the kid before one last thought occurred to him.
He checked that the man was still conscious, and when he heard a dull groan that proved that the man was still aware enough to feel pain, Jason decided that it was worth it.
He unbuttoned the man’s pants and jerked them down his thighs. There were no underwear underneath. Of course, there wouldn’t be. They would just be an extra step between the dying rapist and getting his dick wet in a teenager’s body.
Jason grabbed the man’s limp dick and cut it off. Just so whoever found the body had a good guess why the man had met such a savage fate.
Jason rammed the knife up to the hilt in the man’s screaming throat. The man shuddered, then went lifeless and still. One more rapist who would never get the chance to hurt a kid again, dozens more rapists who’d now been warned. Hundreds of innocent victims who might have been saved.
With the trash taken out, Jason stood and turned to the kid.
The boy’s hands were over his face, muffling shrieking sobs. Jason remembered those.
“Hey, kiddo, I’m not going to hurt you,” Jason said as gently as he could.
“P—please—” the boy cried, and it was a split second before Jason could place that voice.
Jason’s fury turned to cold rage, and he snatched the Replacement’s wrist and wrenched it away from his face. Tim fought him, but he was exhausted and scared and six-fucking-teen. It wasn’t even a struggle. Below, Jason could see one wide blue eye staring back at him in terror and a mess of tears all over his face.
“I thought,” Jason spat, “I told you to stay out of Crime Alley, Replacement. I thought I told you what would happen if I caught you again. Did. I. Stutter?”
Tim shook his head, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. “N—no, please, Jason, no, not tonight, p—lease, please, I’ll—I’ll leave, I won’t c—ome back, —m sorry, please.”
Jason growled deep in his chest. “You broke the rules, Robin.”
Tim sobbed and pulled against him. “I won’t! Not again, please, I want to go home!”
Curled up, miserable, lying on his side because of how much it hurt to sit, freezing and terrified that he would die of the cold after he’d given up so much just to get food. Missing Mom. Wanting nothing more than a rickety old apartment and his family back. He just wanted a hug, he just wanted to be safe, he just wanted to go home.
Jason closed his eyes and tried to bring back the Pit rage to hide from the memories, just the same way he’d hidden under a thousand blankets in his bed at Wayne Manor so that it would at least take Bruce a bit more time to fish him out when he changed his mind about wanting nothing from Jason.
All these years later, and Jason was still nothing more than a coward.
A coward who hurt kids to make himself feel better.
He was no better than the man he’d just dismembered.
Jason dropped Tim’s wrist from its bruising grip, and he didn’t stop Tim from curling up into a weak and trembling defensive curl. Tim could barely seem to move his legs, though, which pretty much ruled out Jason’s choice to just walk away and let Tim find his way back to the Manor on his own.
Jason sighed and leaned forward.
Tim shrieked when Jason’s hands came to rest on both sides of his rib cage, but he didn’t have the strength to stay curled up when Jason lifted. Tim was getting a lot of things that Jason hadn't gotten on these streets.
Justice.
Safety.
And…a hug.
Jason wrapped Tim securely in his arms, pinning Tim in place. Tim was practically hanging from his grip, his shaking hands pressed against Jason’s chest like he could summon the strength to push back if he just tried very, very hard.
Tim’s weak struggles melted away when Jason brought a hand up to Tim’s hair and started stroking through it gently, his fingers slipping easily through the locks with blood and sweat to work out any tangles. Jason tried not to think of the thousands of hair pets he’d gotten from Bruce in lieu of the hugs he could rarely stand without fear or the hands on shoulders that felt too constricting, too familiar.
“J—Jason?” Tim whimpered.
Jason hushed him. “Shh, kid. I’m sorry. You’re safe now.”
“B—but—”
Jason scratched Tim’s scalp with his bloody fingers, and Tim’s protests cut off. He leaned into Jason and let Jason hold him even tighter.
“It’s been a long night, kid. Let’s get you home.”