“Hey, he can't be out here!”
The Red Hood stops in his tracks and goes dangerously still. “...What?”
One of the two guards gestures wildly at the child, shoulder-length blond hair swinging with his aggravation. “You heard me! Put him back, man! Joker's gonna feed us to Croc if he finds out that his pet isn't where it's supposed to be.”
Red Hood doesn't tense. Doesn't squeeze the frail thing in his arms. He just slowly turns his head to look at the offending creature yapping in his direction. “‘Pet?’”
“Yeah,” the guard says. “One of those dehumanizing things. We aren't supposed to treat h- shit, fuck, treat it like a person.”
“‘It,’” Red Hood flatly repeats back to him. It's not a question.
The second guard, a Black man maybe in his mid-forties, flickers his gaze between Red Hood and the child, before leaning over to murmur quietly to his colleague, “Nikolai, I think this is one of those times where I would shut up.”
“I'd like to keep my goddamn innards, Elijah. You know what happened last time.” The blond guard turns back to Red Hood. “Unless the Joker told you to move him, he's not allowed to leave his room. Are you new or suicidal?”
The Red Hood glides past them, unbothered by them reaching for their weapons, and gently sets the bleeding bird down in the long hollow beneath the desk. “Neither,” he says, standing.
‘Nikolai’ gestures at the door with his gun. “Then go put him back, or it's our ass as well as yours.”
Red Hood draws his own gun and shoots Nikolai's firearm from his hand with a single, casual, almost bored shot. “It's your ass anyway, Fuckface. Shut up.” He looks at the second guard, ‘Elijah.’ “‘Last time?’”
Elijah drops his own gun and puts his hands up, kicking at his buddy until he raises his hands above his head too. Smart. “Last time one of us — staff, I mean — tried to rescue that kid,” he explains, “they got caught,” he says, n’Joker… sorta peeled the guy when he caught up. Fed the leftovers to that big green dude, Waylon.”
Red Hood hums, haunting through the distortion of the modulator. “I see. When was this?”
“Six weeks ago. ‘S the first time anyone tried. And the last.”
“Interesting,” Red Hood murmurs. He taps the side of his gun against his chin, pondering. “So you've been complicit. You knew the kid was here, and did nothing.”
Nikolai's eyes widen. “Wh- Huh? Wait, no!”
Elijah looks at the floor, eyes low, and mutters, “Yes, we did.” He sounds ashamed, and if Red Hood was in a better mood, maybe he'd have cared. “We knew.”
“...You seem smart,” Red Hood says consideringly. “Smarter than your buddy.”
“Hey!”
“Nikolai, man, shut the fuck up. Close your goddamn mouth before y'get us both killed.”
“See?” Red Hood says, amused. “Much smarter. You know when lying won't help.”
Elijah forces a smile and ignores his friend’s glare. “Yeah, I, uh. I try.”
“Mm. Tell me, how long’s he been here?”
“The kid? Winter, I think.” Elijah shifts his weight anxiously. “I try not to think about it. Have enough trouble sleeping as it is, knowing he's here.”
Red Hood turns his gaze away from them. He hears Nikolai get kicked in the leg again, presumably for reaching for one of the guns on the floor, but he doesn't pay them any mind, instead tracing his gaze over the child once more. He's so thin. Wide shoulders, like he grew up eating alright, but now so, so thin. The calendar had said September.
He glances at the wall of security feed screens. This is going to take some planning.
“Yo, chief,” Elijah hedges, “I hate to pry, but uhh… What's your plan?”
“Hm?” He turns back to Elijah.
“You're trying to save the kid, yeah?”
Red Hood doesn't nod. He doesn't shake his head, either.
“There's a lot of other guards here,” Elijah says. “Plus a mercenary who's job is to keep the kid from getting out. And to bring him back if he does.”
“And?”
“Um. And if you're here alone, you're outnumbered.”
“Why should I care? And why do you?”
Elijah hunches his shoulders. “Nikolai’s wife got a baby on the way. I got a daughter. Joker ain't afraid of fuckin’ with family, n’I only took this shit job so i could have custody. I ain't proud’a my silence, but… assumin’ you have a shot at this, I'd rather you make it, for the kid's sake.”
Red Hood sneers under his helmet. “Playin’ for sympathy and backpedaling ain't changin’ that you took part in allowing this.”
“Believe me,” Elijah grits out, “I fuckin’ know. Shit keeps me up at night, but that merc's been hired to retrieve the kid if he ever gets outta here, and Joker'll hurt my kid, and even if he don't, I will not let my daughter go back to her mama on my death.”
“Oh?” Red Hood prompts, taking note of the Alley accent slipping out. He's not lying.
“Crazy bitch keeps lurkin’ around near the school,” Nikolai mutters from where he stands. “Girl’s only six.”
Elijah nods, looking at the ground again. “I wanna make it home to my baby girl, s'all. Don't want her gettin’ caught up in this mess.”
Red Hod stares him down. “There are eight workarounds I could name right now.”
“Not everyone’s as competent as you!*” Elijah blurts, before snapping his mouth shut. He waits to be shot, but when he isn't, he hesitantly continues. “I have a kid. I cannot imagine my daughter, my baby girl, six, in that kid's place. If Joker gets his hands on her because I decide to get involved, he will make that kid's condition look like a skinned knee, and even if he just goes after me, I don't wanna orphan my girl. I've seen what happens to kids in this city with no parents, and I can't let that happen to her. Please.”
Red Hood feels his jaw pop with how hard he clenches his teeth. “Kick over your radios and guns.”
Obediently, Elijah drops his walkie-talkie and kicks it over, as well as both guns. He glowers at Nikolai until he drops his radio too, albeit more hesitantly.
“Great.” Red Hood spares another glance at the kid, who's still out cold. He gives it an hour tops before the feisty little shit wakes up, which means he's in a bit of a rush. Planning takes time, but better to have a plan and have things go smooth than get screwed over because you rushed. He looks back at the guards. “Who else is Joker working with?”
“What?” the blond guard asks.
“Who is he paying to let him out of solitary? Who gave him access to the rest of the asylum and a private room for the kid? Who fuckin’—” Red Hood points at the child tucked into the hollow of the desk. “Who permitted this?”
Elijah and Nikolai share a sour glance. “Boles,” they say in unison.
“Who?”
“Frank Boles,” Elijah elaborates, and starts ticking off factoids on his fingers. “Senior officer, sorta the Clown's lieutenant. Nobody likes him. He's violent, he gambles, he hits patients and fellow staff…”
“Ah, shit, and Quinn,” Nikolai says, eyes widening and face going pale. “She's goddamn eager to participate so long as Paperface is in the room to praise her.”
“Delightful,” Red Hood says flatly. “Who else?”
“Nobody important as far as I'm aware, but I'll bet money the warden knows.”
“Hugo.” It's not a question.
Elijah nods. “Yeah. Strange ain't exactly subtle with his own projects. It's upsetting how many of the staff here ought to be inmates themselves, and the big boss's experiments are honestly comparable to Pyg's nonsense.”
“He wouldn't have cared if he did know,” Nikolai spits. “At least we feel bad that we're prioritizing our own asses, but the same can't be said for anybody else.”
Red Hood taps one finger. “And how many else knew about this but didn't have a hand in it?”
“Too many to count. Uh, for names, though… Robert, maybe?” Elijah asks Nikolai.
“He's not here today,” Nikolai replies.
“Wonderful,” Red Hood says, turning to scan the monitors. His eyes catch on one of the staff lounge areas, where Joker is eating chips on a couch across from Deathstroke, who himself is drinking something out of a paper cup. “Oh. That's convenient.”
“What is?” Elijah asks.
“They're right next to each other,” Red Hood hums darkly. “I do love me a good hunt, but today it's much safer to get them both in one go than go chasing one while the other gets away.”
Nikolai blinks, wide-eyed. “Well, uh. Good luck? But, um, if-slash-when y’get caught, can you leave us outta your story?”
Red Hood pauses. “I'm not fond of you,” he says blandly, and then he shoots Nikolai in the leg, whereupon the man shrieks like scraping metal and falls to the floor, clutching his wound.
Elijah drops to his friend's side, bewildered and frantic. “Fuck! Mother'a God, man!”
“Quiet the hell down,” Red Hood orders. “Occupy yourself by keeping him from dying and don't try anything fuckin’ stupid.”
Then he turns to the wall of security camera footage, and gets to work.
https://archiveofourown.org/series/4790905
