Many of the Red Hood’s men know who he is under the mask. They know who he is because, believe it or not, they care.
Getting drunk with your boss is never a good idea, but when that leads to the Red Hood’s throwing off his helmet to throw up, leaving his face exposed, it does seem to have a silver lining. When one of his men recognised his face, recognising the face of the young boy that everyone in Gotham had seen plastered all over the news so many years ago, because that boy had died, they knew their boss had some explaining to do.
Lots of them were fathers, trying to provide for their families, so when they found out their boss was practically a child, it felt a bit odd to them, because what if that were there child—running around with guns, bombs and the likes?
The Red Hood’s too men sat him down one day, explaining to him what they had seen, explaining that they wouldn’t tell anybody, that they were just worried.
The Red Hood, or rather Jason, had cried, cried and told them to get out or he’d kill them, to get out because he wasn’t a child, not anymore, because that had been taken away from him by some sick fuck that was somehow still living.
None of them left, for once they didn’t follow orders.
One of them, a father to three beautiful daughters, pulled Jason into his arms, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words only a father could manage. He told Jason that it would all be okay, that he was so brave for doing all this, that it was okay to cry and need help sometimes, that they would all be there for him, that they would pick him up when he couldn’t do so himself, that they would take care of him when he needed it.
From then on out they kept an eye on the Red Hood, never letting him drink unless it was for an undercover mission, unless one of them was nearby because they knew he couldn’t handle his alcohol, and they didn’t want him hurt. They no longer allowed him to smoke, or ‘test’ some of the drugs they were selling to make sure they were ‘high quality. No, none of that, despite Jason’s constant threats.
It was comforting to Jason, in a way, that no matter how much he told them to stop, how much he’d threaten them, they didn’t stop, it was comforting because he really, truly didn’t want them to stop, he was just scared.
yousharknotpass
titsay
origamiaround
stormborns
dailybridgerton
areudirty
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
2087
pixelskylines
