Chapter Text
Dierks sighed, looking down at the little red haired toddler sitting between her legs, "You hear that Liam, your daddy's threatening me. Even know he knows I can kick his ass like Uncle Jay."
The little girl giggles as she watches the show on the tv infront of them, which really she shouldn't be watching but that's how Dierks babysits and if Roy has a problem with it he can take Liam to her second 'father', Jason Todd, though Jason firmly denies the weird ass relationship that he and Roy have.
"Did you hear what happened in Gotham last night?" Roy asked as he sat down on the couch, sighing as he watched the show. Dierks offered him a slice of pizza, which the older ginger gladly took.
"What happened? Is Jay and the other Baby Bats okay?" She asked, worridly. She was especially worried about Jason, though really there was no need to be worried, since she was in no immedant danger through it.
Roy rolled his eyes, "Don't worry chika they're fine, but, a civ was crucified, hair dyed green, white face, Joker get-up, and there were an 'S' and 'J' crossed out on his chest."
"Shit, someone called out Saint Jimmy," she cussed, looking down at Liam. "I'm not putting it back on, I've retired and I'm staying that way."
Roy nodded, watching as Liam played with her puppy, which was just over 5 months old. "I know, I thought you'd like to know Todd."
Liam giggled happily as the small Kujo like dog licked her face.
"What do you want Red?" She snarled at him, not lowering the weapon.
"Someone called you out the other night," he replied.
The black haired girl nodded, "Arsenal told me, I'm not coming out to answer it. I quit the life, for good. It doesn't help that all of you keep fucking dropping in on me."
Red Hood shrugged, looking around the apartment, "Better place than I'm staying at." The fucking bastard started rummaging through her fridge, taking her food and making himself at home.
"What, Arsenal kick your ass out already?" She growled, setting the crossbow down and aiming it at the wall.
Dispite the fact he was keeping his face hidden with that damn mask at the second she could tell the older anti-hero was smirking. "Nah; though I don't think he would mind..." Jason trailed off.
Dierks tried not to lose her lunch. "Excuse me while I vomit. Anyways I'm underage," she retorted with as much snark as him.
He rolled his eyes as he took the helmet off, setting it on the messy-as-hell table. "Heard the Birds of Prey wanted you before you left; gotta ask, if you do come back, would you join them?"
Dierks shrugged, sitting down in a chair next to him. "Maybe, I dunno. I'm not really up for the whole 'teamwork' thing. Why do you think I didn't take you up on your offer to become your sidekick? Besides the fact you infuriate the hell outta me." Jason smirked as he downed one of her sodas.
The body of a blond dropped down onto the ground in front of her. "Oh Saint Jimmy! Come out, come out where ever you are! Or you'll friends will pay with their lives!" A voice cackled above her. Dierks blood ran cold as she dropped down next to Flamebird, checking her pulse. It was rapidly slowly and she couldn't tell if Bette was bleeding or not.
"Someone help!" She yelled, searching for an injury, anything. Then she heard the thud as someone landed in front of her. She scrambled backwards as she looked up at Bette's attacker.
The teenager was pretty sure that this guy would make the Joker wet himself. His hair was a bright pink color, skin sickly tansluctent, almost to the point that his muscles were showing through. The eyes were purple, and his teeth broken and yellowed. Dierks pushed herself away from the creature, trying to not get trampled in the process. "Oh Batty, I'm not here for you, yet," it cooed, a harsh as glass melody scraping at Dierks ears. As quick as it appeared it vanished, not even putting a fight.
She heard two people run up, one rushing to Bette's side while the other one crouched down next to her. "Are you okay?" She could vaguely make out Red Robin's words as Nightwing worked on Flamebird. She nodded shakily, trying to act like a terrifed bystander.
"Wh-Wh-What was th-th-that?" She stuttered, fully knowing what it was.
When she finally got home she ran to her closet, pulling out a pair of long black athletic shorts, a matching black sports bra with a blood red S.J. on the right breast, and a death mask.
Time for Saint Jimmy to come back out again.