Chapter Thirty Five

Jason did not, in fact, go home. Unfortunately, he also didn’t stop poking and prodding in his own incredibly blunt and abrasive fashion. Weirdly, not just about Harley, but also about random things like Dick’s hand, after the incident with Hatter’s mild mind control spike thing, and other things like that.

When it kept going, it betrayed a level of actual curiosity or interest that honestly made Dick more than a little uncomfortable. And whilst he was grateful he knew how to redirect and turn Jason away from subjects he didn’t want to talk about, it was getting a little grating to keep doing as his brother started going in circles to slightly differently worded versions of questions Dick had avoided before.

His patience was already more than a little slender, compared to his usual, and a curious Jason was not the easiest to deal with. Dick would probably have preferred it if he was just angry and didn’t want anything to do with him, like before.

Harley’s arrival was an almost physical relief, since it meant this whole thing tonight was almost over. Dick managed to keep that reaction hidden, at least, but it was close with how intolerant he was feeling tonight.

She landed on the rooftop with a cartwheel and a bounce, saying, “Hellllllo!” before popping up as she stopped and grinning at Nightwing. He started to smile back, right before things went sideways.

Red Hood immediately pulled a gun out and shot at her. Three quick pops of his silenced weapon- a certain buried part of Dick scoffed a little at how careless and imprecise his aim was- sent three rubber bullets hurtling at her.

She must have either expected it or seen it happening, because she managed to drop backwards, landing on the rooftop with an oomph and avoiding the shots. Hood followed with a swiftness that belied his bulky frame, reaching her just as she flipped from the ground back to standing.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the pair started exchanging blows, ducking and weaving and twisting, each fighting with an intensity that left them wordless. For all their efforts, neither could land any real blows on the other. Jason’s slower and powerful style was matched well by Harley’s sharp and swift manic energy. She couldn’t hit him anywhere that would hurt without getting hit herself, and he couldn’t hit her without opening himself in turn.

In the end, it was only when they both had to back away for a breather that they stopped. Nightwing stepped between them to make sure it didn’t start again, and frowned at Red Hood. “What was that?”

Jason shrugged, and grunted, “Needed to see she could fight. And if she couldn’t… free therapy, amirite?”

Harls piped up from the other side, “Not gonna lie, ‘ah get what he was doin’ Nightie. It’s like some thing for some of us, tells ya who’s a good one, ta’ trust. Which, he is, this one.”

Dick’s frown deepened at his brother, “Can you not just take my word that she’s good for this, and I trust her?”

“Nah.” Jason replied, and honestly? It kind of made Dick want to cry or scream. That his word meant so fucking little. That Jason would dismiss it so easily, so carelessly. That nothing he did or said ever mattered until it wasn’t good enough.

Before he could even begin to decide on how to react, an angry noise came from Harls as she came to stand next to Nightwing. She scowled at Red Hood as she said, “I like ya a lot less now. ‘Wing’s a dang good judge of character, and ya an asshole for not trusting ‘im.”

She purposefully turned to face Dick instead, obviously ignoring Red Hood, and smiled as she nicely asked, “What’s the deal, Nightie? What we doin’?”

It was lazy, rude, impolite, a copout, and completely unlike how Dick usually behaved with his siblings. But he didn’t hesitate to follow her lead and basically ignore Jason. “Simple stuff. Black Mask has an operation across the way. We have three vans leaving soon, and now there’s three of us. We’ll each follow a van, do basic recon notes, and then call it a day.

He threw a glance at Red Hood as he said, “Hood can go home, and I’ll write it up, send it over to Gotham, and make sure to stamp it out in Bludhaven. Let’s go.”

—

Harley made a note of where the van ended up stopping, using the tiny notepad and pencil she’d stuffed in her cleavage on the way. Look, her outfit really didn’t offer many choices, even with Dick’s upgrades to it. She had the leather jacket, but that was full of actual tools and shit, so… her tits were a better choice.

Hopefully she’d get to pull it out later to give to Dick, and he might-

Her thoughts swiftly swapped track to focus again as she heard the scrape from behind her. She threw a look over her shoulder, catching Red Hood as he tried and failed to stealthily get closer to her.

Harls raised an eyebrow at the boy, “Can ‘ah help ya? Or ya come ta’ try an’ beat me up again?”

For all her dry sarcasm, it didn’t seem to change the body language of Red Hood. Instead, he just stood there without response for long enough she almost spoke up again, then finally said, “...Quinn, what the fuck are you up to?”

She sighed, “Ah great. This lovely conversation. My favourite.” The blonde turned to face him properly, absently putting the notepad away in a pocket. “Ah’m not up to anyth-”

“Don’t gimme that bullshit, Quinn.” The man snapped, his helmet electronically distorting the words into a low and angry crackle. “You were with that psycho clown cunt for longer than I can remember, but now you’re suddenly a fuckin’ hero with Nightwing? Pretty convenient it’s him, huh? Only hero that’d have given you the time of day, just so happens to be the one you’re working with?”

Harls didn’t even blink. Just kept watching him with an unimpressed look until he finished. “Ya done? ‘Kay, so, like I was sayin’, I’m tryin’ to do things right with mah life, and Nightie’s such a fuckin’ amazing guy that he decided he’d help me. Or ya gonna argue like he’s not amazing?”

An electronic scoff. “Sure, he’s fuckin’ spiffing, I guess. Just as long as you don’t gotta actually rely on the bastard-”

“Shut your goddamned mouth, you ungrateful shithead.” The words slipped out in a flood of sheer vitriolic threat, all pointed at Red Hood, as her eyes narrowed and intensified on the younger hero. “Fuckin’- Ya can’t even help it, can ya? Tryin’ ta’ hurt him, even when he’s spent hours helpin’ ya after ya couldn’t even have tha’ manners to tell him ya were here.”

His hand had slipped to a holster, grabbing a gun without drawing, and it clenched there at her words, as he snarled, “The fuck you think you got the right to tell me-”

“Nah, ya can fuckin’ listen ta’ me, Hood. I been around a few months now, ya know? I watch and listen. And ah’ve never, not in mah life, met a man as good as Nightwing is- not just ta’ me, but everyone. Ya know what else I’ve never seen? Someone that gives as much as he does, and always gets fuckin’ shat on for it, and ya bats are the worst for it. All of ya, always fuckin’ telling him he’s not doing enough or doin’ it wrong, or something! There’s never just a fuckin’ thank ya, is there? When’d ya last thank him, Hood? Go on, think about it.”

She waits, staring with something akin to disgust. She can’t see his face, but the shifting of his feet and the tensing and untensing of his grip on the gun tells her about the uncertainty and anxiety under the helmet.

After a long quiet, he lets out an unnatural scoff, and says, “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like what I said wasn’t true, was it?”

“Oh yeah?” She snaps at him. “Tell me when he wasn’t there when ya relied on him-”

Immediately, Hood sarcastically shot back, “I can think of one time in Ethiopia, with a fuckin’ crowbar. Or even after that, when he let your fucking boyfriend live-”

Harls had flinched in remorse at the mention of Ethiopia, remembering all too well the glee that Joker had as he revealed what he’d done. But then he made the mistake of calling that psychopathic clown her boyfriend, when that only belonged to Dick, and would probably always belong to him.

Harls barked a laugh, sharp-edged and furious. “Jesus, ya bats don’t fuckin’ share, huh? Or ya just didn’t bother doin’ ya research, too busy being angry and makin’ assumptions that’d let ya dump that anger on Nightie. Either way, ya wrong. About a lotta things, kid. About me, about Nightwing, and definitely about Joker goin’ unpunished.”

She took a couple steps to the roof’s edge, then said, “I’d do some research, if I was ya. But…do it in Gotham. Stay the fuck outta Nightwing’s city until ya can give him some fucking respect, or we’re gonna have problems.”

Then she leapt off the rooftop, and started heading home, giving precisely zero fucks about the Bat she’d left staring after her silently.