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“Thank you for coming, Neal,” El said, ripping open another bag of candy. She lowered her voice to a stage-whisper. “Peter gets too uptight about Halloween, I’m sure together we can loosen him up a bit.”
“I do not get uptight,” Peter protested from where he was peering out the window. “I am appropriately cautious of vandals.”
El gave Jason a significant look.
Jason sent her a grin in return. “Happy to help, Elizabeth.”
And he was. It was always weird, being out of Gotham on Halloween. Even when he had been traveling around the world training for his big return, he’d had the urge to go back when October 31st rolled around. It was instinct, ingrained in every bat from the moment they hit the streets: Halloween meant all hands on deck. Scarecrow was always active on Halloween, and on the rare occasion that Arkham managed to keep him inside, Calendar Man or Sweet Tooth was happy to step up to the plate. Sometimes the Joker decided he didn’t want to be left out of the costume-wearing, mischief-causing chaos. Sometimes some idiot mob goon started a gang war over trick-or-treaters. Sometimes all of the above happened on the same fucking night because Gotham had never heard of the concept of taking it easy.
So it was nice to be with Peter and El, rather than sitting in his apartment, listening to comms and feeling useless.
The costumes were fun too, primarily because of the full-body twitch Jason had gotten when Peter opened the door.
“Okay, I think this is enough,” El said, surveying the bags of candy. The bright colors of the packaging stood out sharply against her black-and-white striped shirt.
Jason held up the big black sack with LOOT written on it in huge white letters as El dumped the candy inside. He gave it a few good shakes to mix the candy up and sent her a thumbs up. She beamed and adjusted her round striped cap. Jason’s felt mask itched, the elastic band pressing against his ears in a way that would probably get annoying real fast, but it was so worth it.
“I can’t believe you’re wearing that,” Peter muttered as he finally came away from the window.
“It was Elizabeth’s idea,” Jason reminded him, not even trying to hide his grin. “I think I look better in black and white than orange.”
“Orange was definitely not your color,” El agreed, smiling innocently at Peter when he sent her a look.
“Oh!” Jason snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot.” He held up a shiny plastic star. Before Peter could move away, Jason leaned forward and quickly pinned it to his shirt. He stepped back and grinned. “There. Can’t arrest us if you don’t have a badge.”
Peter put his hands on his hips and glared, the cereal-box badge glinting, the wide-brimmed sheriff’s hat El had forced onto his head the cherry on top of a ridiculous sundae.
“Oh, watch out,” Jason told El. “He’s pissed. It’ll be back in the slammer for us.”
El pressed her hands to her cheeks in mock fear. The doorbell rang. “Quick!” El cried, grabbing the bag of candy. “To the escape tunnel!”
Jason jogged after her, leaving Peter behind to sigh loudly at the ceiling.
“Trick or treat!” the kids clustered at the door chorused. Jason saw one ghost, a witch, a cat, and a Superman.
“Well don’t you guys just steal the show,” El said. Jason snickered and helped her pass out candy.
As the evening progressed, Jason counted six Supermans, four Wonder Womans, and three Batmans. Tiny versions of the rest of the Justice League paraded past their door too, but the most popular by far was…
“Oh no, it’s Robin!” El cried, just as she had eleven times before. “What should we do?”
“Run for it,” Jason advised, pulling some M&Ms out of the sack. “Unless…” He looked around exaggeratedly then leaned in. “Hey kid,” he said. “What say we give you some of our score and you don’t mention this to Batman or the cops?”
The little Robin put her hands on her hips and squinted at him. El elbowed Peter hard enough that he wheezed a little. Jason held the laugh in with sheer force of will.
“Robin doesn’t let criminals go,” the girl said, though she sounded a little uncertain as she watched the bag of loot.
“How about this,” Peter said, nudging his way to the front and taking the sack. He tapped his badge. “I’ll take them into custody and you can get some candy as a reward for helping.”
“Deal!” Robin beamed. Peter gave her some candy. “Good work officer!” she cried as she ran back to her parents.
“You’re under arrest,” Peter said, nudging them both inside.
“You’ll never take me alive!” El protested dramatically. “Unless there’s wine,” she added, heading for the kitchen.
“I’ll go to prison for that,” Jason agreed.
The night was winding down as it approached ten p.m., only the most determined of trick or treaters dragging their parents behind them. The sack still had a good inch of loot left, and Jason wondered if he could get away with stealing some of it for himself.
A knock sounded on the door and they all trooped back over, a protesting Peter being dragged out of his chair by El. There was only one child at the door this time, bracketed by their parents, and Jason’s heart stopped in his chest.
A puffy brown coat, jeans, and black rainboots. A cardboard bat safety-pinned to a grey shirt, a nerf gun, and a tiny Mandalorian mask spray-painted red.
El barely faltered at the sight of a tiny crime lord on her front step. “Oh no!” she said. “It’s the Red Hood!”
There was a lump in Jason’s throat. He swallowed hard and crouched down, holding out his hand for a fist bump. “Good choice, kid,” he managed.
The kid fist bumped him enthusiastically.
Behind him, Peter muttered something about good choices and serial killers. He probably thought he was being quiet enough to avoid detection, but Jason had the ears of a Gothamite and a bat.
What he didn’t expect was for the kid to hear Peter too.
“Hey!” the kid snapped in a very familiar accent, nerf gun held tightly in one hand. “The Red Hood saved my sister’s life when the cops weren’t doing shit. And he gave us enough cash to get out of Gotham. He’s a hero!”
The lump in Jason’s throat had returned twice as large. Objectively he knew that his work as the Red Hood helped people and those people were thankful for his presence, but it was one thing to know it and another to see it right in front of him, in a kid that liked him enough to pretend to be him for a night, and parents that liked him enough to not only allow their kid to dress up as a vigilante crime lord, but to put in the effort of making a costume.
Jason gestured for the kid to hold out their pillowcase and dumped the rest of the candy inside. He smiled, an edge of the sharp Gothamite he worked so hard to conceal peeking through. “Happy Halloween, kid. Welcome to New York.”