One Little Change

Notes: Once again, I asked CaraLee for some prompts. This time, I also asked for some AUs. This was the first. An AU where Jason didn't die. Well, I wasn't interested when it first came (the other AUs appealed to me more) but couldn't shake the ideas for this one. Somehow, it grew on me (and grew in words). In this AU, Jason doesn't die from the Joker attack (let's say the door was unlocked and they got out before the bomb blew). Jay's mum probably ended up in prison but this AU isn't really focusing on what happened to her. Bruce took Jason back home to recover and this covers the changed events after that. Some things are different and some things stay the same.

Orange

Jason was out patrolling when he saw it. A flash of orange. Behind him. On the fire escape. He hid and backtracked. For a few moments, he didn't see anything. Then, there it was again. A flash of orange. He snuck over, getting closer and closer to what began to resemble a dancing light.

His eyes widened as the dark figure of a kid, no a teenager, appeared in the shadows. A teen with a camera pointed to the sky. As Jason watched, the teen smiled and looked at the screen of the camera, at the picture he had taken.

Robin's colours flashed on the screen.

"He's back." And the teen sounded so relieved and breathless that Jason couldn't help being interested. He hadn't thought that ordinary citizens of Gotham would miss him.

If he had died in the warehouse, what would have happened to Robin? To the people in Gotham who looked to the signal in the sky for protection? He had been so stupid.

"Hey," he said, purposely softening his voice as he let the teenager know he was there.

The teenager flinched and held his camera close to himself as he curled up. Jason wasn't stupid, he could see the taunt readiness in his body. If Jason stepped closer, then the teenager wouldn't hesitate to kick at him.

"Robin?" the teen questioned in surprise.

Shirt

Bruce wanted to trick the Joker into thinking that Jason had died. Bruce wanted to beat the Joker as the Joker beat Jason.

Jason watched as the mission and the father warred against each other. It hurt to see Bruce falling apart. He had no idea what to do.

Batman left to get the clown and came back empty handed. Jason insisted that the helicopter blast must have killed him but Bruce thought otherwise.

They didn't fight about it. What they did fight about was how Bruce was confining Jason to the manor. Jason was being home-schooled now and he couldn't even go out as Robin. Bruce and Alfred had deemed him too injured during those first few months.

It probably would have continued like that until someone (Jason) exploded. If it hadn't been for Nightwing.

Nightwing had been off-world. He had returned to the speculation of Robin's death and a 'status unknown' on Jason's profile, even after overriding Bruce's protection.

He thought Jason had died. The evidence suggested as much. And he had rushed to the cave with a little voice whispering in his head that his Little Wing was gone.

Nightwing had broken down when he saw Jason, battered but alive.

What Jason remembered of the moment was the strong grip on the back of his shirt, the tears soaking the front and the light trembles running through Dick's body.

Dick didn't let him go and Jason was forced to wonder what things would have been light if he had died. What he came up with was not pretty.

Quilt

Jason's body was a patchwork of scars. One side of him was almost segregated from the rest by a scar which traced down his back, over his shoulder and down his front. For that reason, he didn't take his shirt off around people he wasn't comfortable around.

Bruce still fondly remembers the time Tim accidentally opened the door to Jason's room when Jason had his shirt off.

Jason had grabbed the colourful quilt which had been in the room longer than he had and used it cover his body, like a cocoon with Jason's head. Quite adorable behaviour from the tough, growing teen.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Tim had gasped, slamming the door shut and running downstairs.

Valley

Tim wandered around the small grassy hill-like area around Wayne Manor. He had climbed over the fence and now only had to find the manor.

"Ugh, I need a map," he complained as he slid down the hill. An expanse of trees awaited him. "Jason!" he called out, not really expecting an answer but hoping for one. When none came, as expected, Tim sighed and continued his trek towards Wayne Manor.

He reached it an hour later, having mentally mapped the path himself. He rang the doorbell and waited. He felt tiny standing before the large doors which could fit four of him across and were twice his size.

"Master Timothy?" Alfred questioned when he saw who was standing on the step with muddy shoes and looking tired.

"Good Evening, Alfred. Jason hasn't left for the evening, has he?"

"Not yet. I insist on meals before gallivanting across Gotham in an attempt to save the city from itself."

"Oh, okay. Cool. I can wait." Tim couldn't help the small amount of disappointment which entered his voice.

"Nonsense, Master Tim. Join us for dinner."

Tim smiled and crossed the threshold.

Jason gaped when he saw him.

"Please don't tell me you walked all the way here!"

"I said I would, didn't I?"

Jason hit his head against the table, to Bruce's amusement and Alfred's worry.

"I offered to pick you up. On Robin's bike too."

"But, what if someone needed your help? You wouldn't be able to help them with me tagging along."

Jason frowned and disagreed but Tim wasn't having any of it. He continued to counter Jason's points with logic until Bruce spoke up.

"Why don't you two train together? Then you won't hold him back," he said to Tim.

"Yes!" Jason agreed before Tim could disagree.

Onion

Tim looked around the grocery store. He often didn't come in here but Jason and Bruce had been so nice to him that he wanted to bring a gift when he visited. That's what you did when you visited other people's homes, right?

He sighed and hung his head. Sometimes he really disliked how little time he had devoted to learning social interactions outside of gatherings of Gotham's higher class.

While walking across the carpark, a teenager around Jason's age jumped out from behind a car and grabbed his bag.

"Hey!" Tim cried out, holding on with all his might as the other teen pulled. Tim noticed the gang symbol tattooed onto his arm and wondered whether he should just let go.

"Stupid brat!" the gang teen growled, pulling Tim towards him.

Out of nowhere, an onion came flying and whacked into the gang teen's head.

"If you want food, I know the address of a good soup kitchen. However, if you're attempting to make a menace of yourself, I ask that you take such childish behaviour elsewhere." Tim blinked at the familiar British lilt as the teenager flinched and bolted.

"Are you alright, Timothy?" Alfred asked.

"Yeah. Thanks, Alfred. But, what are you doing here?"

Alfred motioned towards the bag he was carrying.

"Master Jason requested that I pick up some things for tonight. He's very excited about it." Tim felt his face flush and his hand gripped his bag tighter. Alfred went on, "would you like a lift, Master Tim?"

Tim nodded. He was wearing his backpack which held his clothes for that night. He had picked them out with Jason's sleepover in mind.

"Thank you, Alfred."

Golf

Jason swung the broom. It connected with a ball he had placed on the ground. The ball flew through the air, missing the basket Tim had placed on the ground and bouncing off the TV screen before knocking into a vase.

It landed perfectly in the bottom of the vase, the only jagged part of the vase which remained whole after it crashed.

"Hole!" Jason declared, holding his arms up in victory. Best trick shot ever!

Tim stared at him with wide eyes.

"Jason," Bruce growled.

"Now, Tim, allow me to teach you the skill of escaping from an enraged bat," Jason said as he bolted out the window.

Store

Tim looked through the bookstore window. He could see a tall teenager standing by the bookshelves, head buried in a book.

He squinted. It looked like Jason. He went inside.

"Jason?"

Jason jumped and slammed the book shut, giving Tim a look at the title.

"'The Odyssey'?"

"Um, yeah," Jason stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been wanting to read it for a while and I just finished working my way through Shakespeare's works on Alfred's recommendation and… it's kind of stupid, isn't it?" Tim shook his head but Jason ignored it. "I mean, no kid I know reads these books but I like them and-"

"There's nothing wrong with that!" Tim said strongly. "They're classics!"

"'Classic' is just another word for 'boring'," Jason snorted.

Tim raised an eyebrow. Then he snatched the book from Jason.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Buying it for you."

"What? No, stop, why?"

Tim just laughed and ignored Jason's protests as he bought the book.

Bowl

Jason was visiting the Teen Titans. Five minutes in and he already wanted to ditch these guys and go back to Gotham.

"Why are you wearing a bowl on your head?" he asked Kid Flash, also known as Wally West.

"Listen to my voice, doesn't it sound cool?" Kid Flash said. The red haired speedster didn't seem the least bit embarrassed to be caught running around with a bowl on his head.

"We heard that you can fix tone-deaf singing by placing a bucket on the singer's head," Nigthwing commented, almost giving Robin a heart attack with the way he appeared behind him.

"Roy said it worked!" Kid Flash insisted.

"But we couldn't find a bucket so we used a bowl."

Jason found himself smirking. He didn't know whether it was a joke or not, but he was beginning to see the humour in this.

"Does it?"

Kid Flash slumped and Nightwing snickered.

"Nope."

Fur

Nightwing was sleeping spread on the floor. His face was pressed against the faux fur rug he was sleeping on. Robin took one look and planted himself on the couch, pulling out a book to read.

"Tell me about the kid you recruited," Nightwing suddenly said, rolling over.

"How did you… Bats told you, didn't he?"

Nightwing shrugged, as good as an affirmative answer.

"Just wondering if you're going to begin recruiting kids as 'Robins'." There was no spite in his voice but it was also flat. Nightwing still had trouble interacting with Robin, the kid wearing his name and his colours. But, since Joker's attack which had almost killed Robin (and since Nightwing had thought Robin had been killed), he had been making more of an effort to know Jason. Even though he hadn't been visiting the manor, they talked on the phone more than before and Nightwing also would bring him out to spend slow weekends with the Titans. Like they were now.

"Nah," Robin snorting, leaning back and pushing his unease with the way Nightwing said it to the back of his mind. "But, Tim's pretty cool. We're friends, you know? And he really likes Batman and Robin. Says we're his inspiration and that he always wondered what it would be like to be Robin. You should hear some of the stuff he says. Like how Batman needs a Robin.

"Hey? You think, if I moved on to another name or something, you think Tim would like to be Robin?"

"I dunno," Nightwing responded. "Maybe. You'll have to train him and help him learn how everything works."

"Hm. Maybe he could have his own name? Think the Boss will take on another partner?"

"Doesn't he already have Batgirl as another partner?"

Robin crinkled his nose.

"She doesn't count. The Boss respects her but doesn't work with her unless the situation calls for it. He lets Tim man the computers sometimes."

"You forgot how Batgirl doesn't work with Batman. It's not all Batman not wanting to work together, Batgirl also likes working on her own."

"Is that why she keeps ignoring my requests to patrol together?" Robin questioned. Nightwing heaved himself up into a sitting position.

"What?"

Robin smirked.

"It's not like that," he said, although it was a little like that from his side. He could tell she wasn't interested. "She's cool. Disobeys the Boss and does her own thing, it's inspiring."

"Wrong kind of inspiring, kid," Nightwing pointed out.

Spider

"There's a spider on the console," Tim said quietly. Somehow, the words had been timed to exactly when Jason and Bruce fell silent.

The pair, who had been arguing moments before, turned to look at him in surprise and shock. There had been no fear in Tim's voice and the phrase had sounded like a statement and observation.

Jason thought that was more than a little weird.

"How did a spider get down here?" he asked, turning to look. Then he froze. And swore. "That's huge!" The 'spider' was almost as large as his palm. "Getridofit!"

Tim blinked and gave him a surprised look. All Jason could focus on was the giant spider behind him.

"Ohno ohno, nononono, Bruce! It's climbing up the screen!" He was manly enough to admit that his voice rose a few octaves as he spoke. Bruce grabbed his wrist before he could let the batarang fly towards the critter.

"You'll damage the computer."

Tim twisted around to look at the spider.

"I can work around it," he said.

Jason shivered in horror and made a face. Bruce sighed.

"I'll get Alfred." Alfred would take care of the spider.

Metal Detector

They needed a metal detector to find it. A little piece of metal. A Wing-Ding, washed up in the sand.

It was the only thing the Teen Titans could find. The only thing they handed over to Batman and Robin. Nightwing was gone. Vanished into the ocean during a battle and never surfaced.

"They split us up," Donna Troy informed them sadly. "I can only guess that their aim had been Nightwing the whole time."

"He... he can't be gone," Robin said. "He can't be! He's supposed to be the best!"

"He's only missing Robin, he might not be..." Donna trailed off, unable to give voice to her fears.

"We'll be in contact," Batman growled out, seeing the tremble in Robin's shoulders and the way his fists were clenched.

"It was just some no-name crim!" Robin said, almost yelling when they got into the car. "If we question him, beat the answers out of him, then we might be able to find Dick!"

"The criminal is in police custody. We will have to request the chance to question him," Batman growled out. He was pushing all his fears and worries for his eldest behind wall after wall. He couldn't break down now.

To Jason's fury, they refused. Bruce kept him from sneaking back to 'question' the criminal.

"We're not finished yet," he promised.

Varnish

The floors of the police precinct and holding cells were slick and shiny. Jason danced his way past the cameras to the cell which held the criminal who had taken out Nightwing.

Dick hadn't been the best brother. Jason only saw him on the odd times he would return to the manor and even then, Dick was often there to talk 'business' with Bruce.

But, he still had the slip of paper with Dick's number on it and the promise to call if he wanted to talk. He had the strong grip on the back of his shirt, the tears soaking the front and the light trembles running through Dick's body. Dick cared about him and he, in turn, cared about Dick. He couldn't help that.

"Robin," the criminal didn't seem surprised to see him. Gerard Wray was his name. He was twice Dick's age, balding, had a rap sheet going back to when he was fifteen and was out on parole when he attacked Nightwing.

He had voided the terms of his parole in order to get at Nightwing. That burned. It suggested that this had been an intended attack.

The criminal smiled, showing off a few missing teeth among the stained and silver dental work.

"You shouldn't be here. The police denied the Batman's request to question me."

Jason growled, grabbed the lowlife by his shirt and pulled him into the bars.

"I'm not Batman."

The criminal laughed.

"Of course not! Wrong costume, wrong attitude! Listen kid, what did you expect me to do? I had a trained vigilante bearing down on me. What would you have done? It was self-defence! So, yes, I shot the vigilante into the river! I'm going to be remembered as the guy who killed Nightwing!" And then he laughed.

Jason threw up in the garden outside, keeping their vanished floors clean. He had a fleeting thought that maybe the floors were the only clean things here.

Picture

Jason had been surprised one day to find Tim looking at a picture. It had a group of people, three in leotards and three in nicely dressed clothes. Two couples and two kids, the younger one in nice clothes sitting on the older's knee, who was dressed in a leotard and cape.

The people in the picture looked familiar.

"Who are they?" he asked, causing Tim to jump in surprise.

Tim quickly hid the picture behind his back but seemed to reconsider it after a moment.

"It's a picture of one of the happy times," he said, letting Jason see it again. He held it close to him, as if he was afraid it would disappear. "My parents were busy a lot so we didn't spend much time as a family. But, one day they took me to the circus. I was so excited and my parents decided to introduce me to some of the performers…"

"The Flying Graysons!" Jason realised. He had seen this picture before. "Dick has a copy of this!"

"Yes! We sent a copy here after Dick moved in," Tim said and smiled his brilliant smile. Then it faded as he recalled what happened during the performance after the picture. "It's the last picture before they died."

"You were there?" Jason was baffled. It seemed like this kid had been all around.

"It was the first time I saw Batman too. Batman started his investigation right after. He wasn't a monster, he was there to help." There was a quiet pause. "I kind of became obs-interested in Batman and, later, Robin."

"Timmy." Jason reached out and hugged the younger boy.

"I didn't even get to meet him again."

Jason didn't really need a reminder that Dick's disappearance (Jason didn't want to call it a 'death', not when there was no body) was painful. However, it was enough of a reason to continue looking into it.

Jason really wanted Tim to meet Dick. He hoped such a meeting could still happen.

Title

Tim looked down at his outfit. He had worked with Alfred all week, changing red to black, removing the green and making little changes here and there so he would be comfortable.

How had he ended up at this moment? Jason's discovery of his following them had somehow led to his continued presence in the cave. And now he was standing in costume about to join Batman on the streets.

"Ready to go, Red Robin?" Bruce asked.

Tim bit his lip and nodded, giving the expected answer. It would be fine. He had chosen the costume. He had chosen the name. He had trained.

He could do this. He could be Robin. Jason had said he could.

Increments

Jason looked at the board. He was baffled. How had this happened?

"Tim," Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Tim gave Bruce a truly surprised look.

"Isn't the aim of the game to own everything?" he asked. "That's why it's called 'Monopoly'?"

Piece by piece, Tim had managed to assemble all the coloured properties. Bruce owned the utilities and four transports. Jason had been forced to mortgage and then sell his last property to Tim after he landed on two of the youngest's properties in a row.

"I quit," Jason announced, looking over the board. They had been at this for hours and he had failed to notice the small increments in which Tim had dominated the board.

"You're bust," Bruce corrected, "which means you're out."

"Well, I still quit. And if you were smart, you would do the same."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. Jason flicked his gaze at the board and Tim's overflowing hand.

"Where did Alfred even find this game?" Bruce questioned abstinently as he reached for the dice.

Half an hour later, Tim owned everything. He had a blinding smile as Bruce conceded defeat.

Union

"In my opinion, 'Red Wing' is a silly title," Tim said to Jason, flinching at the glare the other teen shot him. "I know I'm Red Robin and Dick called you Little Wing but combining the two doesn't have the best effect."

"I'm not going to be Robin anymore," Jason grumbled back at him. "You should be happy I made you my replacement."

Tim made a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. Then blushed, hoping Jason hadn't heard him.

"I just don't like this," Tim said. "You're cutting yourself off from Bruce. It's like what Dick did before," Tim paused for a moment, the words 'before he vanished' hanging in the air. "Before he created the Teen Titans."

It was almost a reoccurring pattern. And Tim was very good with patterns.

"Well, do you have any ideas?" Jason asked throwing his hands up in surrender.

Tim thought about it for a moment.

"Red Hood?" Tim suggested. Jason gave him a sceptical look as he explained, "keep the red so we match, I guess. And since I'm Robin, you can be Hood."

"And together we're Robin Hood?" Jason questioned in a flat tone, although his lips twitched in a smile.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid the mirth in Jason's eyes.

"Yes… sort of. I mean, Batman's a lot like Robin Hood, minus the robbing part."

"There's still a lot of that B&E," Jason pointed out, this idea growing on him. "And there was a gang in Gotham once who called themselves the 'Red Hood'. So the name does have some weight behind it."

"Not the right kind of weight," Tim sighed, looking disappointed. Apparently, he saw this as a reason not to use the name.

"Nah. But so what? We can still work it." Tim blinked at him in surprise. "We can take a criminal name and make it a hero one."

Mud

The officer was covered in mud. Another officer stood before him, gun aimed at his head. Despite his predicament, the dirty officer was glaring up at his co-worker. Defiant.

"Killing me won't solve your problem, Jacks."

"Well I sure ain't going to prison!"

"Jacks, the only way not to go to prison, or die!, is to get these guys now!" In spite of everything Jason had heard about Bludhaven cops, this guy seemed good. Or stupid. But, Jason had a soft spot for foolishly stupid. "Otherwise, you're just delaying the enviable. Eventually, they'll toss you aside-"

"Shut up!"

Jason swung down and knocked the gunman out in a kick and a punch before he could recover. He heard the dirty officer gasp in relief and checked that he wasn't moving to attack him, that this wasn't staged as a trap, before tying up the gunman.

"You're that guy from Gotham," the officer said, "Red Hood, right?" He slipped on the mud as he stood.

Jason turned and knew that the officer couldn't see his face under the full-face red mask he wore. He expected something about how vigilantism is against the law or about the guy whose face he kicked in the previous week or, maybe, even a thank you.

Instead, the officer asks with a disarming smile, "what brings you to Bludhaven?" He wiped away a strand of short dark hair as he spoke, smearing more dirt across his cheek.

Jason looked away, at the smoke and factories of the city as he answered.

"Lookin' for someone."

"In Bludhaven?" the officer sounded surprised.

Jason nodded.

"Well… I guess that's what we're here for!" the officer said with a smile. "Come down to the prescient and we'll help you out!"

Jason blinked and looked down at his uniform. He was wearing his jacket open and there was a red bat plastered across his chest. He felt for his helmet and it was still there.

"Um… Red Hood… going to the police… to help find someone?"

"Why not? Everyone needs help." The officer paused and seemed to notice how uncomfortable Jason looked. His bottom lip stuck out as his lips turned down. "Did I say something weird again?"

Jason's mind stuttered. This officer was nice and, while it probably would lead to more nights like tonight, he didn't want to mess with that. This person was good.

"No. It's fine," he said. "I want to try and find him myself first."

The officer didn't look convinced but he nodded and thanked Red Hood for the help as Jason disappeared.

Bank

Dick looked at his savings and bit back a sigh of disappointment. He could pay his rent and could cover most of his food expenses, which was more than what he had when he came to this town. Still, barely scraping by wasn't good in the long run.

He came out of the bank and smiled at the kids playing around his car.

"Hey, guys!" he called with a smile and a wave. The first time this happened, they had scrambled for places unknown since Dick wasn't in the mood to track them down.

"Hi!"

"Officer G!"

"Hey, hey, can you turn the siren on!"

"Sorry!" he sing-songed, "can't turn the siren on, someone will get the wrong idea. Besides, I could lose my job. Or the car. And then you guys wouldn't be able to play on it when I'm not looking."

Dick talked with the kids for a bit and then sent them on their way. He gave the bank once last glance before getting into the car and driving back to the station.

There was no good news there. Red Hood had left them some criminals on their doorstep.

Dick had to sit there and listen to a rant about how Gotham didn't need people who took the law into their own hands and that the Red Hood was now on their priority list.

Anyone who saw him was to arrest him.

"Back from the bank?" Amy asked him as he slipped into his chair.

"Yeah," he responded, wincing a little as the letters danced on the page. He had been looking at too many letters and numbers lately.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"Good. You'll need to be."

He looked up and noticed the worried expression she was giving him.

"What's wrong?"

"News of Red Hood's little rescue have gotten around. Dick, it might not be safe for you here."

Dick rolled his eyes. That was Bludhaven in a nutshell.

"Jacks is in prison in Gotham and Red Hood was there and gone in moments. It was just a coincidence." There was a pause and Dick reminded her, "and it's not like I have anywhere else to go."

Amy frowned but nodded. She knew his story. Somehow, Dick had ended up in hospital with a bullet wound to the chest and some kind of brain infection due to bacteria in water. He had made an almost complete recovery, except he didn't have any memories other than his name which he wasn't even certain was his name.

Bludhaven was the kind of place which didn't question the backgrounds of those going into police training as much as they should. Amy wasn't one to complain. Dick was honest and worked hard.

She just worried that those traits would get him killed.

Sword

Officer Grayson might not have many memories but he was far from ignorant. He knew the signs of someone breaking into his apartment.

Then again, being in the apartment for three seconds and having someone speak to him was a dead giveaway.

"What do you think you're doing?" the voice yelled at him. He pulled out his gun and twisted around. Red Hood, minus the hood, had dropped between him and the door.

Dick stared at the hood-less face for a moment. The Red Hood was young. Probably not even out of his teenage years. His hair was black and his eyes were covered by the red mask he wore.

He was also brandishing a knife like it was a sword.

"Excuse me?" Dick questioned, "I'm not the vigilante who broke into a cop's apartment. What do you think you're doing?"

The top of the mask went up as eyebrows went up. Red Hood was surprised. Mouth widening to an 'o' and eyebrows going down. Moments later, he was sporting a small frown.

He was upset. Dick took a risk and lowered his gun.

"Are you here to take me up on the offer of helping you find that guy you were after?"

The knife was lowered.

"What?"

"You said you came here looking for someone. Did you want my help?"

Red Hood went back to looking surprised.

"You're Dick Grayson of the BPD, right?" Dick nodded. "And is Dick short for something?"

Dick tilted his head.

"Not that I know of. People tell me it's short for Richard but…" he trailed off with a shrug. Almost complete loss of memories wasn't something easy to explain. People didn't really understand.

Dick didn't feel like any less of a person. It didn't feel like he was missing anything. He was building a life for himself, which he had found most people in Bludhaven were trying to do anyway. He didn't have any regrets.

Perhaps that's what people found sad about him; he didn't know what he was missing so he didn't care about the missing pieces of his past.

Bafflingly enough, Red Hood chose to respond with, "you've cut your hair."

"I, what?" A hand automatically ran through his short locks. He had always had his hair this length. "What are you talking about?" He took a step away from the vigilante. Maybe the Chief was right about these people being unhinged and crazy.

"Dick?" Red Hood reached up and removed his mask.

Dick's eyes widened and he turned away, trying to forget the flash of blue he saw before he averted his eyes.

"What? Dick?" The worry in his voice made Dick hesitate but he knew he couldn't look.

"I'm sorry!" he cried out, partly from surprise and partly from guilt, "I'm supposed to arrest you. That's what we were told to do. But, I won't do it. And I don't want to know who you are in case they figure out that we've been talking." He didn't want to say who 'they' were because 'they' could be anyone. The police, the gangsters or the mob.

"Oi! Look at me! Tell me if you know who I am!"

Dick flinched as strong arms grabbed his. He automatically twisted to face Red Hood.

"Wow, you're just taller than me," he mused. It bugged him a little that this guy, younger than him, was probably going to end up much taller than him.

Plus, he didn't seem to be listening to a word Dick was saying.

"Focus. Do you know who I am?"

Dick frowned an annoyed frown. He was focusing. He could probably describe Red Hood's face down to the slight curl of stubble around the sides of his chin.

Kid needed to shave.

"You're the Red Hood," He regretted the bite to his words when Red Hood's green eyes bulged and he stumbled back. His arms were still outstretched, like he expected something else from Dick.

"Dick? Tell me this is a joke."

A joke? Dick couldn't shake the thought that he was being messed with. He had been honest and open and this Red Hood wouldn't answer his questions even though he attempted to answer his almost nonsensical inquiries.

He wanted the teen to stop looking so shocked that he didn't want to play his hero game 'properly'.

"Okay, you're really starting to annoy me. You come in here with a knife, ignore my offer of help and then start asking me questions?" Dick scolded, "not to mention, you've put me in danger, now that I've seen your face. I could describe you to anyone now. Even people out for your blood. Does Batman endorse that kind of rash action? Just explain what you're doing here."

Red Hood blinked.

"M-maybe I made a mistake," he stammered. And then he was gone.

Dick froze, hand reached out to stop the vigilante and lips parted as if he had been about to say something. He just had no idea what.