Hood was keeping a low profile at the moment, which was admittedly not difficult to do in Burnley. All of Crime Alley had gotten used to checking over their shoulder for a flash of red whenever they were up to no good, but their increased caution hadn't percolated beyond Somerset. Out here, Hood was free to casually stalk a group of dealers as they discussed their plans for selling new product.
Gotham's chemistry education had gotten out of hand while Hood had been gone. There was a new designer drug on street corners every few weeks, half of them byproducts of the Rogues' experimentation and all of them lethal. They didn't start in Crime Alley, no, the criminals had gotten a little too smart for that, but they ended up there all the same. Clogging up his streets and poisoning his people with their toxic castoffs.
Hood watched the pack of lowlife scum tasting the bright pink crystals and eagerly plotting to flood every rave for the next week with little baggies and wondered if it wouldn't be easier to have a little chat with the head of Gotham U's chemistry department.
But since he was already here and his guns were loaded...
Hood straightened from his crouch and braced a foot on the parapet. The decorative facade of the next building over gave plenty of notches to lock his grapple and descend into the pack. The idiots hadn't looked up once—it would be child's play to shoot them before his boots touched the ground. Maybe he'd miss one, let the man think he'd escaped death by the skin of his teeth. Let him beg for mercy. Let him flee, fast enough to carry the tales of Hood's vengeance to enough ears so that by the time Hood caught up to him and murdered him in his own home, all of Gotham would understand what Crime Alley had already taken to heart.
The Red Hood ruled crime in Gotham and no one—not the cops, not Black Mask, and certainly not Batman—could stop him.
Before Hood could unholster his grapple, his attention was caught in the distance by a building a block away. The yellow cape he recognized, fingers tightening painfully on his grapple, the purple one less so, and the last, a shadow dark enough to be mistaken as a trick of the light—that one made a jagged smile split his face under the helmet.
Batman was a block away. A block too far to save the criminals Hood had marked for death. Too late. As always.
They hadn't noticed him, the Bat or his brightly feathered flock, and Hood paused for a moment. Something about the scene was niggling at him like a popcorn kernel stuck between his teeth and he couldn't quite put a finger on it. The three figures were arrayed facing each other instead of peering into the night and as he watched, the shadow unfurled, a dark smudge on the horizon. The other two fell back slightly.
All three fixed on each other with no attention to their surroundings.
Shame that. You never knew when a murderous crime lord was watching you. When an enemy was lurking in the shadows, just waiting to break some wings. It was practically Hood's civic duty to remind them of the consequences.
When the Bats stopped paying attention, people died.
Hood made to the last building before the street split without notice, pressed against the HVAC with his gun pointing around the side. He was close enough to hear snatches of their conversation—the Replacement's voice shrill, the new Batgirl almost angry, the Bat's inaudible growl—and close enough to make the shot.
The only question was who first? The Replacement Robin, who'd left his back unguarded so foolishly after Hood had proven in Titans Tower that nowhere was safe? The Replacement Batgirl, who Hood didn't know much about, but who certainly should've taken the lesson the old Batgirl had learned the hard way? Or Batman himself—Hood still seethed with rage at the memory of how Br-Batman had dismissed him in the same breath as the Joker, just two Rogues fighting for his attention, as though Jason hadn't died, as though Robin never mattered, as though he and the Joker were one and the same.
"—you both jeopardized the mission and each other," Batman's growl reached his way, the argument growing louder. "Never in all my years have I seen such rampant disobedience and here are the consequences. Our objective is fled, his base lies in ruins, his plans are unknown, and when he finally puts them into action we will be too late to stop it. Because of you."
Hood paused. It was mighty satisfying to hear Batman yelling at someone else, especially his shiny new Robin. The Replacement stepped forward to protest and Hood holstered his gun. This was too entertaining to spoil.
"B, we—"
"Enough." It was the night air that sent a chill down Hood's spine, not that icy tone. "I do not want to hear your excuses."
"It's not an excuse!" Batgirl shouted, voice almost cracking. "We were handling it until you dropped in! You were the one who ruined it, just because you couldn't comprehend that we're just as capable as you."
Batman loomed over the girl, frustration evident in the stiff movements of his cape. "You weren't handling it. You aren't capable of handling it."  Ouch, Hood felt that one and judging by Batgirl's balled fists, she had too. "You are nothing but a bad influence."
That felt a bit harsh, but who was Hood to judge?
Batman rounded on the Replacement and cut him off before he could speak. "And you—I expected better of you, not to be so easily led astray by base manipulation." Both the kids reared back at that. Batman's voice was cold and final, "You're clearly not the detective I thought you were."
Something about the scene was making Hood uneasy. It was a pit in his stomach he couldn't name, a feeling achingly familiar but lost to the sands of his memory. Something about the way Batman postured, big and broad and towering over the two smaller vigilantes. Something about the way the two replacements faced him, carefully keeping him in their line of sight as they covered each other. Something about the tenor of the argument, the kids defensive, the Bat angry.
The Replacement recovered first and stepped forward, empty hands open and out, posture conciliatory. "Batman—"
"Enough. I don't want to hear it."
"B, I think there's something wrong. You were closest to the explosion. You—"
"I said enough."
"You need to come back to the Cave, B—"
Hood was close enough to see the flash of his gauntlet. See the way the Replacement's head snapped to the side.
Hear the sharp crack of kevlar on skin.
Hood's fingers creaked on the HVAC and he realized he'd straightened to his feet. The Bats weren't paying attention though—Batgirl had advanced on the Bat with a shout as the Replacement fell back. It wasn't his problem. The Bat swung at Batgirl but she ducked, though not fast enough to avoid the second punch. It wasn't his problem. The Replacement grabbed her and pulled her back, covering her as they both stumbled too close to the edge of the roof.  It wasn't his fucking problem.
So Batman had decided to start hitting his kids. So what? They weren't special. Plenty of children in Crime Alley had learned to fear their fathers. Plenty of children in Crime Alley learned to fear Batman. And these kids would learn that fear as one and the same.
Batman advanced on the two little birds as they shrank back away from him, all of them too involved to notice Hood standing there in plain view.
It wasn't his goddamn problem.
Except for the voice in the back of his head, the kid he'd long thought dead or drowned, the kid who stared appalled at a man he'd trusted succumbing to violence.
Jason thought he had nothing left for Batman to betray, but he was clearly wrong.
The shouts and scrabbles paused in perfect unison when Jason's boots touched down on the rooftop and three pairs of white lenses landed on him.
Batman's focus immediately shifted, lasering in on his helmet, but both replacements backed up, keeping him and Batman still in their view. As though the both of them were threats.
"Hey, old man," Jason greeted, "you wanna take on someone your own size?"
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Batman gets hit with some new kind of aggression toxin that will purportedly wear off only if he kills. All the Bats are locked together in a room and Batman's self-control is gradually decreasing.
I have so many aggression toxin ideas and I’ve only written one of them.
Hood is chilling in Crime Alley, minding his own business, patrolling his territory, when he spots Batman. Hood watches, gun at the ready, to see if Batman crosses into his territory or not.
Batman does not cross into his territory. he’s waylaid by a frantic-looking Robin and Spoiler and for a moment, Hood just watches the kids talking to Batman, gesticulating and saying something he’s too far away to hear. and then Batman steps forward and hits Robin across the face, hard enough to send the kid to the ground.
Hood is startled into moving--what the fuck, what the fuck, what is Batman doing, Hood’s allowed to beat up the Replacement but Batman sure the hell isn’t--and jumps into the brewing fight between a defensive Robin and Spoiler and an aggressive Batman.
“pick on someone your own size, old man!”
Robin wheezes out something about Crane and aggression toxin--fuck the kid and his messed-up priorities, but fine, Hood won’t shoot Batman in the face--but even three-on-one, a enraged Batman is a hard opponent, especially since Jason’s more focused on keeping the kids safe. he ends up breaking an arm before Batgirl swoops in.
Cass is quick enough to beat Batman, but they need to contain him--they can’t give him tranqs, not without the possibility of adverse reactions, and a hold is useless against someone too furious to care about destroying their own body to get out. Jason’s down one working limb, he’s pretty sure Robin has some broken ribs, and Spoiler keeps having to wipe blood out of her face.
finally, finally, they manage to pin Batman down and get his belt away from him. one kid per limb. Nightwing arrives with the antidote, the day is saved, whatever, but Jason cannot escape the fact that he totally played protective big brother, no matter how many times he threatens to shoot all of them.
