Chapter One: The Final Night.

Patrol duty in Gotham sucked. Especially when Jason could be at a party with the cities richest all in one spot and had a rare opportunity to show his actual face. He even argued to Bruce that he didn't have to be directly linked to him, just a "friend" of Dick's or Tim's. But even they wouldn't defend him - which was expected since he was the Black Sheep.
Oh well, it was a nice evening to go for a bike ride.
The key word being WAS. Because this was the Final Night Jason would ever call himself Red Hood. The final night that Bruce Wayne would ever be alive.

The patrol started out like any other when Red Hood was out on the streets. Petty crimes were more likely to happen than actual Villains like the Joker or Penguin; not because he was feared by them, but because their lackeys know that going up against him would mean death, or being mortally wounded. There wasn't much point in doing a job when the Bat's only gunman is in the area. So Jason stuck to the petty crimes, stopping thugs from attacking people leaving work, thievery, shit like that. He was used to the minor tasks but irritated that there was nothing proper to do so he could get to actually use his pistols. Just walking up to guys, saying "Hey! You there!", then flashing his pistol, wasn't as fun as actually shooting someone who deserves it. But that was his ruling, and he had to stick by it.

As Jason got back on his motorbike after stopping the same guy attempting to attack women twice in a row, he heard multiple sirens blaring close by. Had something gone down? Sure enough, a black van suddenly drifted onto the road he was parked at the side of. Its doors were open and had two guys firing machine pistols at the cop cars following behind in pursuit. Jason smiled to himself as he revved up his bike. This was what he needed tonight.

Jason rode out to catch up with the van, weaving in and out of the cops where he could. He noticed Jim Gordon in one of the cars at the front, waving at him before going on ahead.

"Red Hood! Get outta here! This isn't your business!" Gordon's voice rang out on the speaker atop his car. Jason ignored it, pulling out his pistol and readying it as the bullets from the van started firing at him.

"Fuck off!" One of the shooters cried as he finished reloading and started firing again. Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, dodging most of the fire and lining up his own pistol to fire back. First shot; missed. Second shot; hit him in the leg, made him drop the weapon. Third shot; hit the other shooter in the arm, doing the same. The same guy tried to close one of the van doors for their protection, but Jason had done enough. He took his fourth shot at the left back wheel; it hit but didn't burst. Tried again, the same situation. Bulletproof wheels? No, it was just at a bad angle. He tried again, aiming for the road. The bullet ricocheted off the tarmac and dug in, making the tire burst. He repeated it with his sixth shot on the back right wheel with the same result.

Bingo.

The van started to spin out of control, its driver seemingly unaware of who was chasing him. Jason slowed down at this point, letting it crash into the street. The GCPD cars surrounded the vehicle, but also surrounded him.

"Freeze!"

"Don't move!"

"Stay right the fuck there!"

Three cops had their pistols aimed right at Jason instead of the guys at the van, who were getting the same treatment. All he could do was raise his hands above his head.

"Hey guys, I helped you out tonight! Should I get let off the hook, even just for tonight?" Jason joked, putting his pistol back in its holster where it belonged. None of them moved or found it funny. "No? Okay fine, I'll wait with Gordon until Bats comes to pick me up."

"Not this time, Hood," Gordon's voice replied suddenly, the middle-aged man approaching him, nodding at the three to stand at ease for now.
"You shot two of those men and now they're in shock." Jason winced as he heard that, having made that same mistake in the past. Gordon continued.
"We have to take them to the hospital instead of straight back to the station. That means you're coming down with the three we can interview."

Jason snorted through his helmet and asked "Why? You want me to replace him for the Bad Cop?" The Commissioner shrugged.

"I suppose you could call it that. If Batman trusts you to help us then you're in on this case. But no more shooting unless it's necessary, got it?" Gordon ordered, one of the cops scowling at this sudden idea.

"You're not a cop, but you stick to our rules."

"All due respect sir, but this guy belongs in a cell with the rest of them!" The same cop complained suddenly. He was Hispanic, Mexican specifically. He was wearing a cross around his neck, but also had one stitched into his uniform, next to his badge. Jason couldn't see his name but it was obvious he was a devout Christian. Gordon sighed - clearly he's had an issue with this guy's attitude before.

"Relax, Corporal. He's been working with the Batman. I don't trust him, but he'll play ball." Jason piped up at this point.

"I'm right here you know? Are we gonna get going or what?" Gordon looked back at him and nodded, heading back to his car to lead the drive back to Gotham station. The three remaining members that were in the van were struggling as they were being forced into separate cars. Before one was pushed in, he shouted out something.

"DEUS VULT ILLUD!"

Then it happened.

Wayne Manor could be seen atop the large hill it sat on just outside the city. And as the man shouted those three words, the whole house burst into flames. And all Jason could do was watch it burn. Just like before all those years ago. There was nothing he could do.