Chapter Text
Gordon considered himself a calm man.
He was on board when a man dressed up as a bat started showing up on his crime-ridden streets.
He kept an open mind when the same man began dressing up little kids like birds and throwing them at psychotic maniacs.
He kept his cool when Batman asked to pardon the murderous, red-helmeted ‘vigilante’ who blew up countless warehouses and served as judge, jury, and executioner.
He even managed to keep a straight face when that same criminal showed up at the Batsignal; he still pulled a gun on him, of course, but he held his fire, for now.
“Red Hood,” He greeted with a sour frown.
The helmeted figure turned to face him, waving as he did so. “Hey there, Commish.”
“You want to tell me why you’re here?” Jim took a few steps further, raising his gun to aim at the big red target. “The Batsignal is for Bats, not criminals.”
“Hey, that’s just rude.” Red Hood pulled back his leather jacket to reveal a red bat embedded in his armor. “I’m officially back on the team, thank you very much. Now, what did you need?”
Back on the team? What did that mean?
“I don’t need anything from you.” Gordon reholstered his gun. “I’ll wait for a real bat to grab this case.” He pulled out the case file from his coat and leaned against the railing.
“Pff, again, rude, and I’m the best you’re gonna get. Trust me, B doesn’t trust me around his little cop friends much. Only calls me in when he’s desperate.” Red Hood stretched his arms and rested his bodyweight on the metal rail; it shook slightly as he did so. “Now, what did you want?”
“Batman really didn’t have anyone else? I like Nightwing, usually he’s the one subbing in for the big guy.”
“Nightdick is on the same mission as Bats right now, Spoiler is currently on vacation, Red Robin is doing a Titans trip, and Robin… well, let’s just say he’s a lot less trusted around cops than I am.”
“Ugh, fine.” Gordon pulled the file back out of his jacket and tossed it towards the man. “I’m only doing this because I’m desperate; I still don’t like you or this situation.”
“Noted.” He silently scanned the file; the case was about a murderer running amok in Crime Alley. “Have you questioned the owner of the coffee shop they all worked at?”
“What?”
“I recognize ‘em, they work at a coffee shop, the one on fourth, they make a damn good peppermint mocha, but they also run a drug dispensary in the back, hard stuff; you should try their brownies.” Hood flipped through the file once more before pressing a finger to the side of his helmet. “Oracle, can you fact-check that?” After a few moments, Red Hood’s mechanical voice spoke again. “Yep, I’ll be back in 20.”
Gordon couldn’t get a word out before the man leapt over the edge of the platform and grappled into the darkness of a nearby alleyway.
18 minutes later, Gordon heard a man’s horrified screams fill the city air, followed by the clinking of heavy boots on metal.
He turned around, hand resting on his holster, to find the vigilante holding a horrified man by the collar of his shirt. Hood had him on his knees and, dangling his head inches from the ground, using just one arm. “Alright, now, tell the boss-man what you told me.”
“I did it!” he hollered, “It was me! They was askin’ too many damn questions! I don’t care where you put me, just lock me up far away from this freak!” The man managed to wriggle his way out of Hood’s firm grasp, ripping the back of his shirt off where Hood had been holding it in the process, and grabbing the bottom of Jim’s pants. “Please! I swear I’ll do anything! Just don’t let ‘im near me!”
“Jesus, Hood, what did you-” Gordon looked up to meet the white eyes of the helmeted delivery-boy to find absolutely no one there.
“Goddamnit, can I ever finish a conversation?”
The night after that, Gordon lit the Batsignal once more, and just like the night before, the red-masked criminal showed up once again.
“Hey there, Jimbo.” Red Hood waved at him from his spot on top of the Batsignal.
“Don’t call me that- and get off the light; it’s expensive.” Gordon took a sip of his black coffee; he felt like he was going to need it.
“I don’t know how Barbra puts up with you; you’re grouchier than B sometimes.”
“How do you-” Jim shook his head and took his glasses off to rub his eyes, “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Look, people are complaining about hearing growling in the sewers… again. Go check it out, I’ll be right behind-”
Red Hood was like Batman in all the worst ways.
“MOTHER FUCKER!”
Gordon watched in something like awe as Red Hood was thrown through the brick wall and launched back up from the small crater he left in the ground without wavering. The unmistakable roaring of Killer Croc echoed off the sewer’s walls, sending a shiver down Gordon’s spine, even after dealing with him so many times, the roar that came from Killer Croc was bone chilling.
“Hey, Gordie, I’m gonna need the big cuffs.” Hood shook himself of all the dirt before diving through the hole in the wall with enough speed to create a dust cloud where he once stood.
Gordon called after him, “Don’t call me that!”
After watching Hood wrestle with a super-sized crocodile, using his two handguns like they had infinite ammo, (Seriously, where did he get all those bullets from?) Jim was able to chain the scaled asshole up and throw him in a truck to Arkham, causing the rare sight of a smile to spread across his face.
That was… until the robotic voice of Red Hood forced a sigh out of Gordon’s lungs. “Hey, JimJam, does this mean I get a raise?” Jim turned around and looked up and down at the disheveled vigilante standing before him. The man’s helmet was cracked in several places, revealing a couple black tuffs of hair and bloody bruises.
“Since when do I pay you?” He scoffed.
“You could start?”
“You look like a mess. Goodnight.” He began to walk away, turning his back to Hood.
“Pfft, you’re still rude. Maybe I’ll send Robin next time, you’ll see what you’re taking for granted,” Hood joked.
“Go ahead,” Jim retorted, “At least he’s not a murderer.”
“That little fucker has killed more people than I have; If you can believe it.”
“Wha- what?” Jim whipped back around to face Red. “Our estimations count that you’ve killed nearly eighty people.”
“Jesus, you gotta recheck those numbers. I’m at least in the hundreds by now.” Red Hood laughed, “Don’t worry, though, those numbers are gonna stay where they are. Bats is pretty picky about ‘murder’. That brat, however… B would love him either way if he started up his bullshit again. He’s killed more than two hundred people, that we know about.” Red Hood shrugged before pulling out his grappling hook and disappearing into the night sky without another word.
Gordon was at a loss for words as his eyes followed the man's silhouette. “What the…”
This is going to be a long couple of weeks