#redvived

𝙹𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽   ,  enthusiastic and refreshing  from the constant dreary  ambiance of  his mentor  bruce  wayne  .  excited about learning  and growing every single day  .  it had clark  excited  to see what he would grow up to become  .  and delighted to say he was beside his side should jason ever need a super to come and save him from a pinch  .   a comforting  yet  doting gaze fell upon him as he lowered to his knee to meet the desperate plea of the robin  .  jason’s eyes always did have a shine to them .  call it strange, but clark always noticed how  his little  robin ‘ s pupils dilated wide upon seeing him  . thanks , super eye sight !    a  smile was donned  to answer the 𝙳𝙸𝚁𝙴 request .   surely  reading was of upmost importance and jason was being deprived  !   𝙰 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚄𝙶𝙷 ,   sweet as the peaches in westward orchards .   ❝   oh   is   big  bad  bat  really saying that,  robin  ?   not  letting you catch up on those next chapters after  taking up your whole day with  chores  ? 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂 𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙻  !    ❞

oh  ,  clark always felt a infectious pleasantness blossom within his soft cloud  heart  speaking with those innocent yet damaged kids like jason .  they all just needed help , didn’t they  ?   where one would have suffered loss ,  another would offer a home beyond imagination .  clark placed a firm hand upon the shoulder .

❝   alfred  is right .  every time i visit you you’re growing like a corn stalk  .  you’re going to be  real strong  ,  jason .  hmmm . . .  run away ?  𝙼𝚈 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴, 𝙼𝙴𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝚁 𝙺𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙰𝚂 , 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙱𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴 .   but  ,  sleep is real important for you   how else are those muscles going to get even stronger ?  listen  ,   how about next weekend i take you from batman’s  rules and you stay over at the farm ?  you can bring all your favorite books .  sounds fun  ?    ❞

❝    don't    worry,    i    won't    tell    anyone    and    ruin    your    bad    boy    image. it'll    be    our    secret. ❞

      it    was    as    if    the    sun    had    risen    on    the    supers    expression    -    his    smile    blinding    onlookers    who    found    themselves    at    home    in    the    dark. his    unspoken    desire    to    be    kind    to    everyone    no    matter    the    cause    sure    was    infectious    to    even    the    most    brooding. but,    clark    knew    it    was    no    superman    influence    that    bent    the    beams    of    jason. it    was    simply    a    nephew    that    had    a    soft    spot    for    an    uncle. (    at    least... this    is    what    clark    imagined    in    his    head    ). everyone    should    know    that    the    superman    was    unshakable. as    soon    as    he    set    his    sights    on    any    forlorn,    stubborn,    broody    drifter    there    wasn't    too    much    that    could    be    done    aside    from    let    clark    run    his    course.

      but,    it'd    be    a    lie    if    there    wasn't    some    nuance    to    how    clark    saw    jason. how    happy    he    was    to    see    him    despite    it    all. . . [    go    whatever    extremities    life    has    pushed    you    to    jason,    but    it    wont    stop    me    from    checking    in. ]. one    could    lament    over    many    things    here. the    loss    of    a    boy. the    embrace    if    killing. becoming    something    one    was    pushed    to    be. however,    clark    was    almost    nearly    blind    to    the    worst    of    things. he    saw    the    best    of    the    world. even    if    it    doesn't    exist    before    him. to    clark,    jason    was    still    someone    to    hold    onto    and    not    leave    behind. he    deserved    to    be    remembered    at    the    very    least.

      ❝    c'mon,    you    want    to    smile. you    want    to. am    i    pushing    it    ?    ❞ clark    would    laugh. playful,    endearing... he    then    backed    off. 

      ❝    anyway,    you    know    where    you're    at    ?  ❞  the    super    spun    his    finger    around    as    he    turned    to    look    at    holographic    tablet. their    surroundings    were    kryptonian. and    the    structure    they    stood    in    looked    as    if    made    of    ice    or    crystal. ❝    the    fortress    of    solitude. my    home    away    from    home. i    found    you    unconscious,    jason. I    figured    i    could    get    you    back    up    to    health    here. how    are    you    feeling    ?    feel    free    to    take    off    any    of    those    tubes    on    you. x    ray    vision    is    tellin    me    you’re    looking    good. ❞

as counterintuitive as it might've seemed to some, if there was one way to immediately get on barton's list of 'people to kill,' it was messing with his family. so to say that he wasn't pleased when he found out that a detective was gathering evidence to build up a case against his 'darling daughter' from someone he had on the inside of the GCPD would be an understatement; barton was seeing red by the time he began ruffling through the files in a certain office of the GCPD under the guise of wanting to 'report a crime.' there was just so much material that this detective, a woman who went by the name marcela vega, had on her. thus, she must've been tracking matilda's movements for a while. and so marcela's fate was pretty much sealed at that point.

that brings us to today, which was when barton decided would be the best possible time to break into her house without being detected after he'd found out her address, after barton had spent several weeks carefully putting together a plan to kill her. marcela usually went out with her friends to a bar on tuesday's nights and both of her neighbors were out of the equation at the moment; so, she'd be getting home late and theoretically, this'd be the perfect time to do something nefarious to her. it only took barton about a minute to pick the lock on marcela's door. he had had plenty of practice with doing it, and the one she had wasn't particularly complicated. i guess she felt safe enough to not add a deadbolt or anything, but he had a feeling marcela would soon come to regret that.

because only a few minutes after she walked through the door, barton had hugged marcela from behind. and he did this in order to bring her body close enough to dig his knife into her heart. the pure shock and terror on her face when he did this was something he wished he could document for forever in his mind, in all honesty. the only explanation he gave her as to why he was here before she died was a gentle whisper, as he leaned into her ear and said, 'you should've stayed away from my daughter.' barton pulled out his knife from the wound and couldn't help but let a small, mocking smile form on his lips when her body fell limp to the ground. that was almost too easy. he started up a fire in the hearth she had in her living room and from there, he began to dispose of all of the evidence she had gathered on matilda that he had been able to find.

he had completely ransacked marcela's place, but barton had a feeling she had more evidence she was hiding somewhere. so he went back into her kitchen, where he killed her as no one would think to look there, really, and began rummaging through her cabinets. this was before barton heard the sound of very faint footsteps in the living room, though. who could that be? she didn't have a partner or any kids, so... he turned his head almost instantly to look at the figure by him that had now come into the light. they donned a red helmet, carried twin guns with them — ❝ interesting. you're him, aren't you? the red hood. i'm not a fan, but i guess it's admirable that you check up on the 'little people' when you don't have anything better to do. ❞

one. copy of the count of monte cristo by alexander dumas. an a - typical selection for stephanie, more dramatic and prestigious than she's used to, & it wasn't the contents of the novel per say that drew her to it but rather the self - made etchings of it's previous owner : jason todd. little space has been squandered or left blank, the many highlights offering brief insight to whatever thoughts brought forward. it's as intimate as the theft of a diary.

two. the standard 21st birthday present from : bruce wayne. the odyssey by homer.

three. nancy drew by carolyn keene all novels in their original, old flimsy form, pencil dresses and mary jane plimsols on the cover, faded yellows the standard print quality in the 80's, paper hangs on well worn corners and spines. no one can ever say they aren't well adored.

four. his dark materials by philip pullman. recommended by a well loved english teacher who saw the similiarities between our protagonist and theirs : the tale follows lyra belaqua on her adventure to end a mystery, save her friend, & defy all authority.

five. recommended as part of her education as batgirl, the adventures of sherlock holmes by arthur conan doyle. stephanie is unsure if the materials were well enjoyed by barbara, tim or any amongst them but they litter every bookshelf in gotham.

six. the book that kept her most company when hiding underneath her bed frame from her father's yells, charlotte's web by e.b. white.

      “   i   can   feel   your   fear ,   he’s   done   you   WRONG —   i   would’ve   sacrificed   it   all .   i   would’ve   bled   for   you .   ” 

kara’s    focus    was    only    half    there.        super    hearing    picking    up    what    was    being    said    but    it    was    all,        as    the    humans    would    call    it,        going    in    one    ear    and    out    the    other.        instead    her    attention    had    fallen    on    a    doodle    she’d    been    working    on.        the     artwork    wasn’t    the    best    but    there    was    definitely    no    question    as    to    who    her    muse    was.        that    was    most    certainly    the    only    reason    kara    had    for    how    many    times    she    kept    looking    at    jason,        there    was   no    other    reasons    other    than    he    was    nice    to    draw.        if    she    told    herself    that    a    few    more    times    she    might    even    believe    it!

Eddie frequently forgets his passwords for things and has to reset them. He does have a note pad his writes them down on but that also frequently gets misplaced