I've now written frankly an absurd amount of Jason & Bullock. I am extremely normal about friendship, especially age gap friendship. It's cool. My fics below!
Batman's out of town (or rather, out of orbit), leaving Robin in charge of Gotham. This arrangement does not last too long as Robin, along with an unwitting Bullock, get sucked into a villain's idea of entertainment. Suddenly transported across the country, the pair can win by getting back to Gotham in one piece or lose by, well, dying horribly. Fun!
Can this less-than-dynamic duo make it to Gotham alive? And what might be revealed along the way?
Featuring: tightrope Jason! combined pre and post crisis continuity! banter! references to It Happened One Night (1934) that I watched because Bullock has a poster of it in his apartment! road trips! Sloan's Circus!
Robin was dead. Not officially. Not that anything with Batman would ever have an “officially" attached.
Harvey Bullock reflects after Robin disappears, a new Robin takes his place, and a new crime lord makes himself known. Maybe he's not as stupid as he's made out to be.
Jason was shot by the Mad Hatter, but he should be recovered by now. Right?
An alternating pov between a Robin doing increasingly poorly and Harvey Bullock trying his best to help out.
Harvey dropped to his knees and pushed dirt out of the way, reaching for the churning places until he found an arm. He pulled, and a hand punched out of the grave. A second followed. He grabbed both, braced himself against the uneven slope of the hole and pulled.
Lightning lit the scene like a photograph. The face before him was more dirt than skin and wet with rain and blood. The figure was still buried from the waist down. The sky was dark again. By the time Harvey hauled them out of the grave, the thunder boomed. Storm was getting close.
The boy – And Harvey had the horrifying realization it was a boy – coughed and dirt fell from his lips. He sucked in ragged breaths.
“’S’alright, kid. You’re out. You’re safe. We’re gonna getcha some help. Ok? Alright?”
Or, Jason wakes up in his grave, but someone is there to pull him out.
“You know, one of these days, I’m gonna grab you for breaking and entering.” Harvey tossed his keys onto the shelf and threw his jacket over a chair.
“I’d like to see you try.” Robin’s derisive tone wasn’t as derisive as usual. Something was up.
“What do you want, Boy Wonder?”
Robin hesitated. Robin never hesitated. Something was more than up. Something was wrong. “Do ya mind if I stay here for a bit?”
Jason stifled a frustrated sigh and turned to give this guy the gentle reminder that there was an entire theater of seats available and, hey, Jason was actually saving this seat for someone, but he froze when he saw the guy’s face, immediately snapping to face forward again and avoid eye contact.
Leave it to Harvey Bullock to be the exact kind of person to not only be at a movie theater in the middle of the day – Didn’t he have a job? Was this was the GCPD were being paid for these days? – but be as either rude or unaware enough to sit next to a stranger when any other seat was available. Geez, Jason had dared to hope that in the time he was dead, Bullock would’ve learned to be less of an oaf. But he guessed you can’t teach an old ox new tricks.
Of all the people to successfully land a hit on Batman, not a soul in Gotham would have put money on Harvey Bullock. And yet, when he swings, it lands with a crack.
A beat hangs in the air, Harvey heaving for breath with fury pouring out of him and Batman a marble statue in the cooling night.
“Ya found someone all shiny and new in some storefront window and dressed ‘im up in a dead boy’s clothes, and ya thought nobody would notice the difference?!”
Jason was playing a little game called ‘see how many times he could break into Bullock’s apartment before he noticed.’ It was going extremely well.
Step 1: Find a thrift store and acquire the ugliest ties, vests, and jackets to conceivably exist.
Step 2: Add them slowly to Bullock’s wardrobe.
Step 3: See how long it takes him to notice if he does so at all.
Jason gets stabbed and needs to find somewhere quick where he can catch his breath and get patched up. Conveniently, he happens to be near an old friend's place.
“Oh, ya picked the wrong apartment, buddy,” Harvey told the Red Hood, pointing his gun.
Red Hood was sitting underneath the window, a streak of blood marking his descent from it. Funny, Harvey’d thought that window didn’t open. There was a knife sticking out of Hood’s stomach, a hand pressed next to it with blood spilling out between the fingers.
“Yeah?” Red Hood looked up, but if he had an expression, Harvey couldn’t tell. The voice was modulated. “You mean this isn’t Batburger? I just get so turned around.”
What Not Helping Looks Like
Maybe I’m just a poor judge of character, Harvey thought as he looked out at the sea of his coworkers. They wore identical tense expressions, hands freezing on their firearms. They darted glances at the commish for a sign of what to do. Gordon looked ready to pop a gasket.
“Oh, so you are capable of listening. That’s good to know!” Red Hood’s cheerful voice was made sinister from the voice modulator. And of course the gun he had digging into Harvey’s back. That too.
Or, what is a semi-fake hostage situation between friends?
Usually, Jason had a lot to say about the movie’s plot, and Harvey could fill in production details, and they would both pretend to ignore the elephant taking up the bulk of the apartment. Sometimes, that was easy. Sometimes, the conversation was bigger than the elephant, and it was so easy that it almost scared Harvey. But lately, Jason had less and less to say; the latest in gang warfare got bloodier and bloodier; and the elephant in the room got bigger and bigger.
Or, Jason drops by Bullock's one last time before his confrontation with Batman.
The figure jumped and bolted. They were a streak of red running down the alley, a loose jacket billowing behind them. Harvey followed, footfalls making iron clangs against the fire escape. The alley was a dead end. The running figure looked like they were contemplating scaling the wall when Harvey came up behind them.
“Listen! You’re not in any trouble yet, just—”
The figure jumped and turned around. And – Oh shit. Harvey knew who it was. Not a culprit of anything then. But that didn’t mean no problems. Robin held himself in a fighting stance that looked off even to Harvey’s eyes. He was shaking badly and absolutely covered in blood.
The hairs on Harvey Bullock’s neck stood on end when he walked into his apartment. Someone was here. He slowly closed the door and drew his gun. With his elbow, he flicked on the light.
For a beat, he froze completely.
“Robin?”
The kid sitting on his couch didn’t answer. He didn’t move or emote.
Holmes? Yeah, I've Met Him.
Jason met the real Sherlock Holmes. Bullock doesn't believe him.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Robin swung the pair of ice skates tauntingly. “Come on, Bullock! The whole road’s covered in ice. If you wanna have any chance at being where the action is, you’re gonna need to skate.”
Or, Mr. Freeze has covered Gotham in ice, so to find him, they're gonna need to skate there...
