ECHO (Jason Todd x reader)

Chapter 8 - Caged Fox

Another gloomy day in Gotham. Since yesterday's conversation with her, Jason has been relentlessly digging for any evidence related to the murder. Her nightmare only deepened his suspicion, driving him to uncover the truth. Now, as the day drags toward its end, Dick drops by unexpectedly.

As Jason cleans his guns at the table, a small grin tugs at his lips, hearing Dick's usual upbeat voice echo through the room.

"What's up, little bro?" Dick waltzes in casually, slipping past the heavy steel door as if this hideout were his own. Even in one of Jason's many bolt holes, there's no escaping him.

"Definitely not you," Jason quips without looking up, still focused on his weapons.

Dick tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in thought as he pulls out a chair next to Jason. "I don't get it."

Jason rolls his eyes, wiping down the barrel of his pistol before waving his hand dismissively. "Never mind."

"Ohh," Dick finally says, realization dawning on his face as he leans back in the chair. "Because I'm Dick, and a dick can be up! Oh, that's funny––"

"The moment has passed, Richard," Jason grumbles, tossing his rag on the table.

"Don't call me that."

Jason grins mischievously, folding his arms and leaning back, clearly enjoying himself. "Okay, Ric."

Dick glares, pointing at him with narrowed eyes. "Definitely don't call me that."

Jason scoffs, the corner of his mouth quirking into an amused smile momentarily. "Why are you here? I thought the old man told you to protect Blüdhaven and not interfere." He glances at Dick's Nightwing attire.

"Whatever Forman is up to has reached Blüdhaven. His weirdos wreaked a lot of havoc yesterday. Anyway, anything interesting with that girl you're researching?" Dick asks, casually leaning on Jason's desk, a smug look on his face.

Jason glances at him before turning his attention to the laptop on the table. He had just acquired the CCTV footage from the night of the murder, the recording playing at double speed. "Yeah, actually. She might've done it, but I think her mind blocked it out. Some kind of trauma response."

"For real? That's wild," Dick replies, staring at the screen but clearly not paying much attention to Jason's words.

Jason narrows his eyes. He knows that calculating look. "I don't need your help. I can handle this."

Dick raises his hands in mock surrender. "I know you've got it under control. I'm just curious, you know? Not every day we've got a possible mass murderer out there."

Jason shoots him a wary look. "Not counting the usual ones." Dick shrugs, unfazed.

Jason is about to fire back a witty remark when something strange catches his eye in the footage. He quickly rewinds the video to see the screen flickering, and suddenly it shows the young woman in question standing amidst a gruesome scene—bodies strewn around, blood covering her as she cradles a boy, her clawed hand clutching his chest. The evidence is undeniable.

"Holy shit," Dick mutters, his voice laced with shock. "She really did it."

"Let's get that crazy bitch," Jason says, putting on his signature red helmet and retrieving his guns. "You comin'?"

Dick's face adopts a look of surprise, but he nods, excited to see how Jason will handle the situation. "Hell yeah."

They swiftly traverse the rooftops, the cool night air rushing past them as they navigate the Gotham skyline. Nightwing takes the lead, his acrobatic form soaring through the air as he leaps effortlessly from one building to the next. He instinctively reaches for his grappling hook when needed, using it to swing around obstacles and maintain momentum, his movements fluid and precise. Behind him, Red Hood follows closely, mirroring Nightwing's agility with his own grappling hook.