Chapter 2
When Jason jumped off of the building, he took his grappling hock and was able to land more or less graceful on another rooftop, from there he could slip down into the busy streets of the big city that apparently was New York.
He stuffed his mask inside of one of his pockets and closed the zipper of his jacked so that the bat symbol was hidden. A glance over his shoulder told him that his capturers were not following him, but even so he decided that it was probably a good idea to bring some distance between himself and them.
What the fuck happened? How the hell did he get here? Bruce had a big mission, so big that all four of them were needed for it. Great, the one time he decided to team up with his more or less family and he ends up in a complete different city with memory loss. At least he was still in the same country. But even when he now remembers that there definitely was a mission, he couldn't say what happened on it, so Jason wasn't much wiser than before. Many it was a good idea to contact Oracle or B so that they could come and pick him up.
He reached for his communicator, just to realize, that it was gone. Fan-fucking-tastic. He had no weapons, no communication and this guys from before probably knew how he looks and by now probably also what his name was and that he should have been dead for several years because of a bombing. Like he just said, fan-fucking-tastic.
Ok he needs a battle plan.
Step one: He needs a place to regroup and wait for nightfall.
Step two: He needs to get back into that tower from before to get his gear back.
Step three: find out how much they know about him and if necessary make sure that they wouldn't be able to pass the information on.
Step four: he needs to contact Oracle or Bats so that he could get back home.
Shouldn't be too hard considering he is the motherfucking Red Hood himself, right?
Three hours, two chillidogs and way to many collisions with random people on the streets later, Jason found himself inside of an old apartment which contained an old, dirty couch, surprisingly a working bathroom, an old funny smelling carped, a battered kitchen witch looked like it hasn't been used since the 1990s and even some books with which he could kill some time until the time was ready to make his next move.
The boy seated himself on the couch, read one of the books, something about a girl who lost her memories because of the government or something, and waited. When the sun started to set he decided that it would be safe now to get moving.
He carefully stuffed his last smoke bomb, his grappling hook, the knife and the handful of batarangs he found in one of the hidden compartments of his belt he hadn't searched the first time. After putting on his red domino he was finally ready to go and kick some assess.
He made his way across the city above the streets, he was a bat after all, even when he did not always want to admit his ties to the Batclan. After all Bruce didn't care enough to revenge him, Tim was his replacement and Damian is simply said just the plague, Dick was at least sometimes tolerable, but even he was often way to annoying for the crimson anti-hero. The only one he really cared about was Alfred. The old man was like the grandfather he never had and never, not once, did Alfred judge him for his actions.
He could remember the first time he saw the old butler again after he 'came back'. At that time the relationship between the young vigilant and his former mentor was still... tense. It was a few months after the whole kill-the-Joker-or-kill-me-incident, when he saw Alfred in one of the many coffee shops in Gotham. At first he wasn't very pleased about it and wanted to vanish before the older had the chance of spotting him, but when he wanted to leave, Alfred had already seen him and joined him in his booth. On his lips the soft smile he always showed when he talked to Jason or Dick. At the end he was grateful for the shared time after all those years. Alfred was also the one who told B to man-up and get things right with his son.
The teen chuckled on this memory, yeah, Alfred was one hell of a butler. Probably the sanest and most badass person in this fucked up family.
So lost in thoughts, Jay didn't realize that he already reached the rooftop where he landed hours before to get away from the big, ugly skyscraper in front of him. He let his gaze fly over the building, tying to spot a preferably unguarded entrance. Two floors underneath him he finally found what seemed like an air vent that was big enough for him to fit. Undetected he grappled across the streets and unscrewed the bolts that hold the hatch in place. Once inside he didn't bother closing the hatch again, assuming that no-one would spot it anyways and also because it could guarantee an easier escape route.
Jason squeezed himself for what felt like hours through the air vents, every time he found an opening, he had to check if something useful was underneath him, until he found a room that looked like a mix of a storage room and a workshop. On one of the messy tables he saw his missing gear.
"Bingo", he mutters under his breath.
After listening for a few moments to make sure no-one was there he dropped through the hatch and made his way over to the table, always listening if he heard one of the enemies approached.
"I hope those idiots didn't mess to much with my stuff", he said while slipping on his crimson red helmet. Luckily his pistoles were still loaded. He stuffed his gear, which consisted among other things from some explosives, more knives, smoke bombs, some Batarangs which he stole from Bats and enough ammo to take down a small town (not that that was his intension, but he liked it to be prepared for everything), into the right places.
After that was done, he decided that it couldn't harm to look a little bit around this place when he was already there. As messy and unorganized as this place was, he had to admit that it looked pretty high tech. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't the Batcave, but still pretty impressive.
Jason didn't notice anything to special at first, until he saw something that looked like a metal glove, painted in red and gold, with a strange looking, round space on the palm of it. "What the fuck is that", he walked over to the glove and debated with himself, if he should try and risk it to put it on, after all it could have been something dangerous. At the end his curiosity took the upper hand and with a quiet "YOLT" he put it on.
At first nothing happened, so naturally he started to play around with it, trying to get some kind of reaction out of it. But still nothing happened. Disappointed he already wanted to pull it off again, when suddenly the door was opened. It revealed a man with brownish-black hair and a goaty. Firs none of the two men moved, then the older one seemed to get angry.
"Hey! Step away from that table and pull the helmet off!", the goaty man demanded.
In the span of seconds Jason thought trough all possibilities, deciding that it would be best to get close and knock that guy out before he could call for reinforcement. Slowly, as if he wanted to show the goaty that he was no threat, he reached for his helmet, that is exactly why it's always a good idea to wear two masks. Suddenly the glove shot a beam of god knows what in the direction of Mr. Goaty, missing him just by centimeter.
'So much for a silent take down', Jason thought. He used the surprise of his enemy and made a dash for the door.
Just like earlier that day, he found himself again in one of the seemingly endless hallways of this tower, running away from people he had never seen before. From behind him he could hear Goaty say something along the lines of: "Our mysterious friend is here again", but he didn't start to run after him. Hood was not sure if that was a good sigh or not, but he didn't question it any further and decided that it was best to concentrate on the matter on hand; getting out of here.
And so he did. He turned right, ignoring possible cameras or other security systems by telling himself that by now, it didn't matter anymore, if they saw him, because he was already spotted. On the next crossway he turned left, just so that he could immediately change direction again, when he saw the red head from earlier that day. Jason ran even faster. There was still no escape in sight, when suddenly even more people were behind him, the arrowhead and the blond guy who dresses like he was born in the 40s joined the chase.
"Fucking hell you guys multiply faster than fucking rabbits!", the hooded teen shouted over his shoulder.
"Language!", the blond responded.
"Why the FUCK should I listen to you?", Jason made sure to to emphasize the fuck.
From the blond one came only a grunt.
"Thought so Blondie!"
Before Jason could say anything else, he had to duck, otherwise his head would have gotten chopped off. 'Did this guy just throw a giant metal frisbee after me?' As a responded he took out one of his guns and started shooting at his opponents. But just like he did with the frisbee moments before, they avoid the bullets. At least that gave Hood enough time to bring more space between him and them and slip around the next corner, right into a dead end. Fan-fucking-tastic. He stood in front of a big window. With a little luck he could make it across to the next building. Apparently an old warehouse or something. Mabey he wasn't as screwed as he thought after all.
He raised the gloved hand, hoping that it would work this time better than the last. Moments later, the glass shattered and he leaped across, not bothering for the grappling hook. Jason crashed feet first through one of the windows and rolled off to lessen the impact. He stood up and walked over to the now shattered window and saw that that the attackers seemed to discuss their next move. When they looked back to him he gave a short two fingerd salute, before disappeared back into the shadows.