prettyredbird | Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

Strange occurrences were happening all over Gotham's streets. It had all started with Red Robin coming across the body of a child predator with his throat torn out, left in a clearing in the Gotham Woods for anyone to find. He had no sympathy for the guy, but such a horrific scene of the crime certainly left an impact. It wasn't long before rumors of a vicious beast stalking the city began to circulate on the streets. People spoke of viscera and gore dripping from a powerful maw, the moonlight reflecting off of sharp white teeth, and howls powerful enough to make trees tremble. The whole thing sounded completely ridiculous. Tim insisted that it must have been an escaped bear, or some new supervillain trying to freak people out and cause chaos. The more detective work he put into it, however, the less he believed his own theories. Further bodies of the scummiest of criminals, fur, blood, partial canine paw prints that were far too big to belong to any wolf or dog, dead deer that looked as though they had been mauled by something far stronger and more terrifying than any grizzly--it would've taken quite a mind to put together such a convincing fake monster, but it was still possible. When the wildlife cameras he placed failed to pick a single thing up, Tim buried himself in research to find any sort of plausible explanation. Each trail only led to a single outcome.

Werewolf.

In the far corners of the internet, the least reliable sort of people swore the beasts were real. That they could transform into massive killing machines, apex predators unlike any that had ever existed before. They could shake off a substantial level of damage, and without some sort of silver to block their healing ability, they were nearly invincible. The first time Tim had read about them, he rolled his eyes and decided it was time to get some sleep. But as he lay there, staring holes into his ceiling, the idea simply wouldn't leave his mind. His best friend was the clone of an alien, could he really claim a werewolf was more far-fetched than that? Maybe it wouldn't be such an awful idea to look for a pattern, choose the right night, and see for himself who (or what) was leaving remains in the woods. At least then he could be sure.

As Tim stepped into the trees in the middle of the night a week later, Tim decided that yes, it was an awful idea. The hair on the back of his neck rose as goosebumps exploded in chains along his skin. Every sound around him seemed both amplified and completely terrifying. It wasn't like Red Robin to be scared, but he'd never actually tried to hunt a monster before. Turned out being in entirely new territory did in fact make him quite anxious. He hadn't wanted to try to explain his research to the other Bats when they'd nearly thrown him in an asylum that time he insisted Bruce was still alive and lost in the time stream, which meant that he had exactly zero backup. It took all of his training to keep his breathing calm, and his gloved had clutched the silver dagger that he'd brought closer to his chest. Sure, a six inch blade was totally going to protect him from a giant monster. Good thinking, Tim!

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'...unlike any that had ever existed before.'

That was a slight exaggeration. After all, they'd existed forever, right alongside everyone else. Long enough for the truth of their being to be clouded, anyway. Jason had heard everything from 'a villager was mauled by a wolf, only to later bare a child with wild eyes and fangs' to 'a curse cast on a bloodline by a witch'. No one really knew, not even the League-who he'd been pretty sure had known everything.

Now, it was simply a disease. A bloodborne pathogen that was carried through the body to rewrite it's very being. There were those who were born into it, of course, but Jason hadn't. He'd been...well. He'd been something of an experiment. A desperate, last ditch attempt for Talia to awaken his so severely damaged mind from it's walking coma. It had worked, her bite powerful enough to send his body into convulsions as it twisted and writhed and changed that very first time.

And when it was over and the sun had risen, Jason had woken up for the first time since his death and the first thing he'd done had been to scream. She'd taken him in like the wayward pup that he'd been, taught him about his new body and his new purpose. She'd told him all about how his family had left him. How'd they'd barely mourned before moving on. How Dick hadn't even gone to his funeral and how Bruce had already given his uniform to some new black haired, blue eyed boy. She taught him about Pack and family and how he always had a place in hers.

She'd lied, of course. Manipulated the facts until he couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. It had taken a long time -and having his throat slit by the man who was supposed to have been his father- for him to separate himself enough to start to tease out those truths. Years.

He wasn't idle during those years, either. Red Hood had a territory to maintain, carving out the Bowery for himself one bloody chunk at a time. He ruled it with a fierceness that bordered on terrifying...but only to those on the outside. He protected those on the inside with tooth and claw, and over the years he'd slowly started to regain his control.

When the traffickers had moved in, he hadn't thought twice about taking them out, letting his hatred of such things get the better of his baser nature. Honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised to see Red Robin sniffing around his hunting grounds with the mess he'd left. He'd have to deal with the Pretender once he was finished cleaning up the ring.

Except, of course Tim just had to put himself in exactly the right spot on the wrong night.

Jason growled low in his throat as he leapt out, landing silently despite the fact that he was the size of a small horse. Piercing blue eyes focused on Red Robin, a streak of white amid thick black fur...and then he was rushing the man who'd come up behind the younger man, his jaws snapping closed around the trafficker's shoulder so he could drag him away.

It wasn't completely silent out there. Nature was all around him, and there was an owl off in the distance making some noise. The whole thing would have been sort of cool, if it wasn't for the way the shadows seemed to take on a life of their own in the moonlight. Every rustle of leaves was a monster getting ready to pounce and rip out his entrails. He had a pause for a second and focus on breathing, get more oxygen to his brain. That was the only way he'd stand a chance of beating the anxiety trying to overtake his mind.

Tim was just starting to feel a little more at ease when a growl broke through the night air and a huge furry thing jumped out at him. His heart nearly exploded in his chest, thudding violently in his rib cage. Shit, it was a giant wolf. Oh god. Oh no. Oh fuck. This was where he was going to die, wasn't it? Why did he think it was a good idea to come out here on his own? At the very least he should have had a comm so he could call for help if things got desperate.

He flinched when it darted towards him, only to see it rush right past. Okay, that part was confusing. Tim furrowed his eyebrows, quickly turning his head and nearly leaping out of his own skin when he saw how close he'd been to getting grabbed by the guy that had been sneaking up on him. He'd be so wrapped up in his imagined safety that he hadn't realized the actual danger that very nearly took him out. Bruce would have a cow if he knew.

That powerful set of jaws locked onto the man and started to drag him away. Tim wasn't entirely sure what to do. He stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed. "You can't just--!" Okay, why was he trying to reason with a wolf? Not his smartest moment. He leapt forward, grabbing onto the guy and trying to pull him back out of the wolf's grasp. "I don't want to have to hurt you but I'm not going to let you kill anyone." He grit out, scrambling against the beast even though he knew he didn't actually stand a chance. But it wasn't in his nature to just let someone die, even if they were evil. At the very least, he had to try to save the guy.

It was a little amusing, smelling that spike of fear on the younger boy, but still having to deal with the burst of heroics. Annoying, yes, but amusing nonetheless. The man screamed and scrambled to grab at the vigilante with the arm that wasn't a shattered lump under the wolf's jaws and the drag made Jason do a little hop with his hind end so that he could get a better grip.

He'd bitten this man. There was no way in hell he was going to let him survive now. Not only did Jason not want any other wolves in his territory (no matter what his instincts screamed at him), even if he did want his own Pack it wouldn't be made up of lowlife asshats like this. Jason was a monster, but even he didn't pack teenagers into trucks like cattle.

He growled again, low and threatening, the man in his jaws only an object as he leveled that cold blue gaze onto the stubborn Bat who'd dared come into his woods. It would be easy to just let go of the filth in his jaws and instead snap onto that outstretched arm...but he didn't.

Tim was a lot of things, annoying and perfect among them, but it had been years since he'd actually wanted the younger man dead. A lot of that had been Talia's influence, her anger at Bruce and her anger at Tim for stealing her father's affection almost on par with each other. She'd played him like a fiddle and he'd almost done her dirty work. He wasn't going to give her that now.

He was so focused on Tim that the man twisting in his jaws came as a surprise, a sharp pain tearing across his muzzle making him yelp and drop the knife wielding trafficker. It wasn't silver, it would heal fine, but it had come as a surprise and he pawed urgently at the gash as the man scrambled to his feet and dashed into the woods.

Fuck.

That threatening growl sent a shiver through Tim, freezing him in place for a long moment. Really made him reconsider going against a beast that could rip out his throat with little difficulty. All he had registered was that someone was in trouble and his job was to help people that were in trouble. He gazed up into the eyes of the wolf, unsure of how much the human side would have any say in what was happening. The internet had all sorts of theories, ranging from werewolves being nothing but stupid beasts to the human brain within operating as normal.

The distraction was enough that he too missed the knife until after it struck. Tim looked shocked, pushing back off and turning to see what direction the man had run off to. Every victim he'd become aware of was a bad guy, and he doubted this one was the exception. Also, the dumbass was going to bleed out from the wound on his shoulder if he didn't immediately get it patched up. Running off was probably the dumbest thing he could have done.

"I'm going to stop him." The vigilante announced to the wounded wolf, just in case the creature could understand him. "Please don't eat me." At least he was being polite about it, right?

Tim didn't wait around another moment. He rushed after the guy, pulling his collapsible bo staff out just in case. Following him wasn't terribly difficult even in the dark. The trafficker was running on pure adrenaline and not making any attempt to hide his tracks. Racing through the trees, he came across the man leaning against an old oak, gasping for air. "Don't move." Tim warned him, stepping closer. "You're losing too much blood. I'm going to help patch you up, but then I'm taking you in." He still had his duty to protect the streets, after all.

The internet was full of idiots and fanboys who had no real understanding of what they were talking about. However, in this rare particular case...they were right. The level of human thought that lingered in the wolf form was based on several different factors. From mental strength to the linage of the wolf who'd bitten them, even something as random and annoying as luck.

Jason hadn't always been so able to hold onto his human thoughts, nor did he always want to keep them in this form, but Tim was lucky that the intelligence that looked out at him from those pale blue eyes was unchanged from when he walked on two legs instead of four. His instincts had ridden him hard those first several years, but now all he did was curl his lip in a snarl as Tim ran off to chase his prey. His instincts wanted to snap out and crush the boy's ankle in his teeth...but he had bigger problems to deal with.

He'd bitten that jackass and hadn't been able to deliver the killing blow. Overhead, the moon hung heavy and pregnant and Tim....Tim was running headfirst towards a whole world of pain and danger.

For a moment he considered just letting the boy get what he deserved. It would take out the annoying little shit without staining his hands and then he'd be free to take on the accidental pup without distraction. Talia would be pleased with it, even if she'd be furious with him for his slip up. Tim had captivated the attention of her father, after all, and she was nothing if not jealous.

And yet, he pushed himself up from the ground, his muzzle already starting to stitch itself back together over the gleaming white of his teeth. He could hear them up ahead, could smell the bright fear from Tim....but he could also smell the agony and confusion from the trafficker. There was a sharp note there, a spreading sickness that only grew stronger as Jason traversed the forest.

He got there just as the man was turning from the oak. His wounds were no longer bleeding, his eyes wide and wild as his body was starting to ripple under the moonlight. He lifted thinning lips over fangs that didn't belong in a human mouth and there was absolutely none of the intelligence that Jason showed as he lunged for Red Robin. He caught Jason's shoulder instead and Jason yelped as he twisted to grab some part of the twisting body that had him, fur flowing and melting and churning in his jaws as they tussled.

The man in front of Tim didn't respond at first, and that was concerning. He inched closer, trying to be wary of the knife he knew the criminal had. "Hey, can you hear me? I think you might pass out soon, we need to patch you up fast." It didn't occur to him just what sort of danger he was exposing himself to. Though the internet forums mentioned bites, he didn't put two and two together in his own head right away. If he had, maybe he would have thought twice before cornering the guy.

He did notice that the wounds stopped gushing and that was enough to make him pause. He'd never seen anything like it, but it sounded a lot like what he'd read... The dots began to connect just as the man turned around and Tim saw the fangs. Well, fuck. That wasn't good. Tim cursed to himself, having just enough time to think that even if he survived this, he was going to end up turned too. There was no way he was going to be able to keep that guy from biting him, but he was going to have to try.

The contact that he was bracing for never came. At the last moment, there was a flash of fur and that huge wolf took the hit intended for Tim. The young man stumbled backwards, gasping desperately for breath as he watched the violence before him. He could hear the snapping of bones as the criminal's body shifted, sickening pops strong enough to make his stomach churn despite everything he'd been through. It didn't help that the air around him was thick with the smell of blood. His heart was pounding to the point that in a better state of mind he might have been concerned about it bursting.

Tim needed to run. To get out of there as fast as he could. No matter who won, either creature could turn on him next. His fight-or-flight instincts had him frozen instead, something that had never occurred during his time as Red Robin. He just stared in awe, trembling.

The change was never a pleasant thing to watch. Bones rolled under muscles and flesh, twisting and reshaping. Joints dislocated with sickening pops and squelching ripping sounds. Skin melted away with thick glops of thick, clear goop...but somehow the fur under it was dry. The skull was the worst part, bone elongating like clay under some invisible artist's hand. Teeth made for ripping and crushing sliced through human lips without any thought.

But as bad as the change usually was, that first change was always so much worse. Fear and pain and panic flashed bright in the man's eyes even as a half formed muzzle clamped down on Jason's shoulder, a sound like a boiling tea kettle leaking from around the jaws. It changed into the pained whine of a canine, desperate and terrified as he instinctively shook at the meat in his jaws. His hands had melted together into paws, but he was still trying to use them as hands as he scrambled to get some sort of grip on Jason's thick black fur. His scream as the great wolf twisted to clamp his own jaws into the side of his face morphed into a yelp, reddish brown fur coming out in clumps under Jason's jaws. Newly formed fangs loosened on Jason's shoulder and that was all it took for the bigger wolf to be able to twist away.

And then the fight really started. It was a fierce, wild thing, all instinct and raw nature instead of the tightly controlled rage of even the hardest fight between humans. They weren't fighting to defeat each other. They fought to feel the life blood of the other run over their jaws.

At least, that was how the slightly smaller reddish wolf was fighting. The big black wolf with the white streak was a wild thing...but each strike had a pattern. He was drawing the new pup away from the boy on the ground and, as the fight draw back enough to offer enough space, that big brick of a body was nimbly spun around to stand between the pup and the mask.

It lasted forever and only a second, time reduced only to heartbeats and snapping jaws and vicious growls that were more felt in the chest than heard by the ears. Blood flowed freely from both wolves, ragged rips in muscle and tendon as teeth tore at each other. And then, with one well placed bite around the reddish wolf's throat, it was over. Red stained black jaws stayed locked in place as the wolf held in them shrank back into a man, and only then did he drop the body.

There was almost something familiar about the way the black wolf fought, but Tim couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was obvious that it was clearly using strategy, at least compared to the way the smaller wolf lashed out. Two powerful beasts both doing everything they could to survive and take the other out. Frightened as he was, it was still something fascinating to watch. He couldn't look away.

The fact that the black wolf with the white stripe was clearly trying to draw the red wolf away and get between the two of them wasn't lost on him. Was it trying to protect him? Tim couldn't be sure, but it certainly seemed so. Either way he was grateful. Even if the red wolf was smaller than the black one, it was still large enough that Tim would struggle to defeat it on his own, even with the number of skills he had. He'd never been trained to fight a monster like this one. Even Bruce would probably have a hard time with it.

There was plenty of blood dripping onto the Earth below the two beasts, and Tim was astonished the criminal hadn't passed out yet. Had becoming a werewolf really made it so he could last longer despite all the blood loss? His moves did seem a little sluggish, but it was possible that the black wolf was just that much faster. The human fought the urge to tremble, anxiety causing his fingers to clutch around the plant life below him.

And then those vicious fangs sunk into the red wolf's throat and before Tim could get a word out, the larger wolf tore straight through it. Bile rose in his throat, and his hand covered his mouth in shock. He almost looked like he might cry, stunned by the sight of the man with the bloody throat dropping to the ground.

There was a beat of silence before he pulled his hand away. "You... you killed him." He murmured, but his usual self-righteousness was missing from his tone. No one deserved to die, Bruce hammered that in him from the moment they'd met, but in that moment, he genuinely felt conflicted. Surely if the criminal had been allowed to live, him being turned into such a ferocious beast would put the public in even more danger, right? His stomach churned at the thought and he finally had to look away, closing those pretty blue eyes of his for a moment.

Tim would have been dead against the trafficker turned wolf, and that wasn't a slight on the younger man. Humans, no matter how well trained, weren't designed to go up against a beast like that and live to walk away. For so long, humans had fooled themselves into thinking they were the apex predators of their world simply because they could use the weaponry needed to kill each other. Some still remembered the learned fear of the darkness, but most were skilled at ignoring their genetic memory of being hunted.

Bruce had thrived on that, after all. He'd taught them all to thrive on it. Jason had just taken the step that Bruce never had. Not that he'd had much of a choice in the matter.

Shaking the blood from his jaws, the black wolf turned to stare at the vigilante with those pale blue eyes. He didn't snarl, didn't lash out...but he also didn't try to defend himself. The look was human, but there was enough wolf to make it very clear that he didn't care one bit that Tim was judging him for killing a danger to the city. His muzzle was still knitting itself back together from some wound or another, sharp teeth visible through the shredded skin and fur. He let it heal, feeling the itch under his skin, and when he felt it finally close, he opened that great maw in a jaw cracking yawn.

It was late. His job was done. All that was left was deciding what to do with the Cuckoo on his territory. The wounds on his body were knitting much slower, so he had to put a little effort into heaving himself back up into a stand, but then he was lowering his head and growling low in his chest as he took a step forward.

Run, little bird. Run, and let him hunt.

Tim had, admittedly, been sort of an idiot to be in front of a dangerous beast and not keep an eye on it. His thoughts had clouded his judgement. Bruce would have been absolutely furious with him. But he was stuck in a position where, for the first time, he wasn't sure killing a bad guy had been the wrong idea. It shook him to his core and it was hard not to question everything. If werewolves could turn each other and the wrong person turned into one, there could be gangs of them roaming the streets slaughtering anyone who got in their way. Gotham would be in a lot of trouble.

His head turned when he heard the wolf pushing himself to stand, feeling a little pang of sadness at the effort he put forward to heave himself. Surely, even if wounds could recover quickly, they still hurt just as bad when they happened. And though the black wolf dominated the fight, he'd had plenty of wounds to show for it. Tim didn't really like seeing anyone in pain and this wolf saved him--

The growling made him pause again, heart rate immediately picking up. Tim kept his movements slow to ensure he wouldn't be seen as a thread, pushing himself up to his feet again. "I, uh. I'm just gonna..." He pointed behind him with his thumb. "I'll get out of your way." Each step he took to move backwards was careful, he was afraid that if he actually turned and ran that may provoke some sort of prey drive. So he was cautious, but he was definitely getting the hell out of there. Just slower than the wolf might have liked.

When he got a few more feet away, he paused for a second. "Thank you." The young man told the wolf softly. He was pretty sure he didn't need to explain what he was grateful for. The moment he was safely in the brush, he turned and took off.

The moment Tim started to move backwards, the growl stopped. A clear communication that as long as the masked man left, he wouldn't attack him. He had no real desire to murder the boy. Anymore, anyway. He had, once upon a time, his Lupa's words whispered in his eager ears....but that had been long enough ago that he could finally hear past the venom that had dripped from her heart.

But that didn't mean he liked the kid. If Tim kept poking his nose into places it didn't belong, he wouldn't shed a tear about snapping that pretty little neck between his teeth. Thankfully, that looked to not be the case for that evening. Good. As soon as the boy started running, Jason let out a soft whine, sinking back down to the bloodied ground. He still had work to do that night, but first...first he was going to lick his wounds a little and recover.

By the time the first rays of the sun kissed the horizon, the body of the trafficker was nowhere to be found and most of the signs of the battle were gone. The few hikers that would venture out this way would find nothing out of the ordinary, save for maybe the man who was apparently sleeping off a bender in the backseat of his old muscle car. And even he was awake and gone by noon, though he was favoring one side of his body over the other if there had been anyone around to see it. Evening found him with an overstuffed bag of cheap fast food burgers on the hood of that car. And later, as the city started to shake off it's slumber of the gentrified day and show it's true colors, Red Hood was once more hunkered down on a rooftop, looking every bit like he hadn't been AWOL for the last three days.

The thing about Tim poking his nose in places it didn't belong was that it was literally his job to do that all the time. So it was pretty easy to convince himself that it was a good idea to head straight to the Red Hood's territory the next night. They weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Tim genuinely believed that he would be the most willing to hear him out about there being a giant wolf somehow stalking through Gotham.

Dick would just threaten to put him into a mental ward again, or something.

Now, every Bat is smart enough to know that Red Hood doesn't like his territory messed with, and he certainly doesn't appreciate them coming for little visits but--Tim has no other way to contact him. So he just takes the risk and goes for a nice little rooftop to rooftop stroll through the middle of Crime Alley. Knowing Hood, it won't take him long to realize that Red Robin is hanging around and he'll come by to kick him out.

Tim's not gonna go without getting him to hear him out, though.

As he moved, he kept reminding himself of why this was a good idea. Red Hood should want to keep Gotham safe from huge wolf beasts too. They don't even have to work together on it Tim just--well, he just sort of needs someone to talk to about it. As pathetic as that sounds.

Really, he should have expected something along those lines. Tim had never been the type to just let things lay, after all. It was what made him such a good Robin and an even better solo vigilante. Jason had spent a long time ignoring that quality, but he'd grown and now he could look at it with a begrudging respect.

He might not like the kid, but he couldn't pretend that he didn't respect him.

Still, catching Red Robin's scent in the slight drizzle of the night was a bit of a surprise. He hadn't thought the kid would have gotten anything from the night before that would tie him to what he'd seen...but maybe he'd missed something. There had been a lot of his blood on the ground, maybe Tim had gotten a sample before he'd ran off.

But what to do about the situation? He pondered it while he knocked a few drunks around, sending them home to lick their wounds before helping up the guy they'd been trying to rob. Then he kept pondering it while he made a circuit of the streets, checking in on the girls who were working to make sure he hadn't missed anything big while he'd been away. One of them had sported a shiny new black eye and he'd fussed over her for a few minutes before she'd laughed and smacked his arm to send him off. And it was only then, when his mood was at it's highest and thus he was less likely to lose his temper, did he grapple easily up onto the roof.

He landed quietly, but not silently, letting the gravel crunch under his boots as he strolled almost casually towards the intruder in his territory. He wasn't hunting. He was as safe as he ever got.

"I'll be nice and give you two minutes to explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to come to my part of the city uninvited before I chase you off with a hail of bullets."

Edited 2024-10-18 08:28 (UTC)

It was silent as Tim waited, but he didn't wander around in that time. He was smart enough to know that treading carefully on Red Hood's territory was still the best plan of action. He'd be lucky if he got any sort of greeting other than an assault. They weren't enemies these days, but they definitely were not friends. He was pretty sure Jason was always going to hate him for taking over as Robin, no matter how much he tried to insist that he just didn't want Batman to lose his shit and kill someone due to his grief.

There was a bit of tension in his shoulders, but otherwise he looked calm and casual even as he heard the gravel shift beneath footsteps. The young vigilante turned to look at him, trying not to look too relieved that Jason was going to give him a minute to explain himself before chasing him off. Things could have started a lot worse, it must be his lucky night.

"I need your help." He said, voice unwavering. "Something very strange just happened and I--" There was a slight cringe, because he knew what he sounded like. But he still kept talking, because he desperately needed an ally. "You're the only person who will believe me." They both knew how Dick could get. He certainly couldn't go to Bruce. He and Steph weren't on great terms at the moment. Cass was busy. And this was a Gotham issue, he couldn't bring in Kon for it without Bruce throwing a shitfit.

His cheeks were red under the mask, and not for the first time he was grateful for its ability to keep his vulnerabilities hidden. "There's a giant wolf in the woods. It's hunting people. Gothamites. It's really dangerous." After a small pause, because he was hesitant to continue and sound even more like a crazy person, he started speaking again. "I think it might be a werewolf based on research I did online."

The boy smell nervous, but that wasn't unexpected. If a Bat wasn't nervous in his territory, he was doing something wrong. But the small wave of relief that tinged the air was a bit of a surprise and Jason arched a brow in the safety of his helmet. It was a little novel, the idea that someone was relieved to have him around.

It settled the grumble in the back of his mind that Tim should be terrified, not nervous. If the boy knew that it had been him in the forest the night before, surely that would warrant more. So maybe....

Before he'd even finished the wishful thinking, Tim proved it to be true. He honestly didn't know, or if he did, he was skilled enough to lie with his scent. And considering most people had no idea they were even communicating with their scent...

"A giant wolf. In Gotham." He let his voice modulator bleed the words to a baleful monotone, crossing his arms over his chest. "A werewolf. Interesting.

And what exactly makes you think I would be the one to believe you? You have an entire family you could take this to, why the hell are you here?"

Because if Tim was just lulling him into a false sense of security, he could at least do the same. Plus, he was genuinely curious. It wasn't like they were on friendly terms, after all. He'd stopped following his Lupa's desire to kill the boy who'd infatuated her father, but he hadn't exactly welcomed the little Pretender with open arms.

Well, at least he didn't laugh. Tim took that as a positive sign and decided to keep going. "A few reasons. Mostly because even if you decide not to believe me, decide to just beat the shit out of me and leave me for dead, I believe you'd still not choose to turn a blind eye to something so potentially dangerous and decide I'm just crazy. I only have evidence of it hunting really terrible people so far, but what if that changes? What if it starts hunting anyone that goes out at night?" He was aiming to appeal to Red Hood's desire to protect the prostitutes that work the streets of their city. If Jason decided the thing was only going to go after bad people, he'd stop helping. Tim wanted to prevent that before it started, if he could.

"And as for the family, I--" He paused mid sentence. Jason did not want to hear about his rows with Damian, how he doesn't think he could trust Dick very much anymore, or how he found himself disagreeing with Bruce more these days. Anyway, he wasn't looking for any kind of sympathy. He's a misfit, but so was Jason, and maybe they can have that in common. "Things aren't going well with them." He summarized with a pathetic little shrug.

"I know how much you hate people in your territory, Hood." He's got a scar or two to prove it. "I wouldn't bring this to you if I didn't think it was really, really dangerous." Or if he thought he could handle it on his own. Tim was smart enough to know when he's out of his depth and it's time to bring in reinforcements. Jason's strength could prove to be a huge asset when taking on a giant wolf. "If it turns out I'm wrong about everything, I'll stay out of your territory for good. You have my word."

"Hn. Sounds like he's doing me a favor, if he's only taking out scum. Saves me a bullet." He was being an intentional ass, letting all of Tim's concern be met with baleful indifference. There was a part of him that still wanted to force it's way under the boy's skin...but mostly, he just didn't want Tim to think he was on the right track. After all, if Tim hadn't figured out the wolf from the night before was him, then there was nothing keeping Jason from just turning him away and slamming the proverbial door in his face. Except....

'Things aren't going well with them.'

He knew an understatement when he heard it and while there was a large part of him that wanted to bare his teeth and grin in victory, he didn't. After all, wasn't he here because he'd been pushed out, too? He knew how bad it hurt. Just because he didn't like the kid didn't mean he wanted to rub salt into the wound.

"Yeah, well. They suck. Sorry you had to figure that out, but at least you didn't have to die to see it."

Why had he said that? Fuck.

Raising his arms up to cross behind his neck, he tilted his head up to look at the smog filled sky before he huffed and shook his head.

"Fine. Lay it out like a case, show me what you've found." If nothing else, he could see exactly what Tim had so he could change his patterns accordingly.

Yeah, Tim had pretty much expected that first response. Jason wasn't likely to have empathy with violent criminals that hurt innocent people. He wished that he didn't understand the temptation to look away. Bright, shiny, young Tim would have been appalled at the idea. But he's been through a lot and sometimes he honestly just... gets it. That's his little secret.

His eyes widened behind the white eyes of his mask when Jason showed the slightest bit of empathy relating to his relationships with the rest of the family. It perhaps wasn't said in the nicest way, but the meaning was still clear. And it meant a lot to him, to feel like he wasn't alone in the situation. Obviously, even without the dying bit Jason had it worse. In a better world, this could have been Tim reaching out a hand to try to bring him back into the folds of the family. But this was not that world.

His focus was on the case, and he went through every detail that he had. Spared nothing, because there was no sense in trying to hide facts while trying to get Jason on his side with this. He was even honest about the crimes the shitty criminals had committed. As he spoke, there was a clear awe in his voice when he talked about the wolf. The fact that it had (seemingly reluctantly) saved him from getting his throat torn out by the bad guy. It was pretty obvious he didn't want to kill the thing, just find a way to get it to stop killing others.

Perhaps to Tim's shock --and certainly to his own--, Jason listened. He moved them away from the edge of the building so that no one could get a clear visual on them, opting to hop up onto a dormant air conditioning unit to sit on the edge. He moved smoothly, no sign of the fight from the night before in his body as he casually hoisted himself up and plopped down. He didn't offer Tim a spot to sit, but he didn't stop the younger boy from getting comfortable if he so chose. Alfred would be giving him a Look, but Alfred wasn't there and, more importantly, he'd probably never get to see the man again, anyway.

While Tim laid out the facts and all the information that he'd managed to scrape together, Jason peeled off his helmet, the fringe of white flopping into his eyes while he ran a gloved hand through the rest of his dark curls. He was still wearing his domino, of course, but his lenses were flipped up and the occasional question he interjected came in his own voice instead of the helmet's warped tone. It also let him use his nose a bit better, Tim's scent telling it's own story as he recanted the encounter from the night before. Fear, of course, but a twinge of excitement and just the faintest musk of guilt.

It was that last part that made him arch a brow, his domino shifting with the expression.

"So, let me get this straight. You had done the research and concluded that you were dealing with a werewolf before you decided to stake out the thing's known hunting grounds on the last night of a full moon? Jesus, kid. You got brass ones, I'll give you that. You're lucky it had a few brain cells left capable of human thought, cause it sure as hell didn't sound like that goon did.

Maybe it knows you. Or you know it. I mean, why else wouldn't it have just let ol' boy eat you? And, for that matter, aren't wolves supposed to be pack animals? Why kill someone it just turned just to save your skinny ass? Where is it's pack? Does it have one? Is this a 'I thought you only had one cat, not four identical ones' kind of situation?"

Why was he indulging this?

Shaking his head, he shucked off his gloves and reached into his jacket to pull out a half crumpled pack of cigarettes. The lighter was hot pink and cheap looking, but it fit inside the pack and he cupped one taped hand protectively around the little flame as he touched it to the tip of the smoke between his lips.

"Bear trap. I got a couple if you want to borrow them. Only lightly used."

Ah. Jason made some very good points, ones that Tim hadn't necessarily thought of himself. He'd been a bit too wrapped up in excitement to be able to think through that part of it. He knew he was lucky the thing chose to save him rather than rip him to shreds, but the idea that he might actually know the person behind the wolf wasn't one that had occurred to him. But if that were true, why wouldn't they have just said something to him?

His nose wrinkled when Jason lit the cigarette. The smell always irritated his nose, and though he did his best not to be judgemental about those who smoked them, he could hear Bruce's lecture like a tape on repeating running through his head. They could absolutely destroy a vigilante's career, not to mention take their life.

Jason had already died once, though, what did he have to fear?

The notion of bear traps made him feel ill. His cheeks flushed and he looked genuinely upset, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared up at him. There were practically flames in his eyes. "I am not going to use bear traps on a creature that chose to save my life!" He snapped, unable to help but come off as haughty in response to the suggestion. "If I just wanted to kill it, I could have found a way to do that without your help!"

How weird that he felt genuinely sad that Jason misunderstood him so much. He tried not to think about that, just turned away from him so he could leave. "Forget I said anything. I made a mistake coming to you with this."

There were plenty of reasons someone wouldn't just come up to Tim and declare themselves a werewolf. For starters, werewolves didn't exist. Right? They were a fable, a fable told to children to make sure they didn't go sneaking out of the house at night. They were right up there with vampires and unicorns and Black Friday sales that were worth waking up at 3 AM for.

And even if they were real....how many people would handle being approached by a monster like that without freaking out?

Jason smirked when Tim wrinkled his nose, turning his head to blow a plume of warm smoke up to join the rest of Gotham's blanket of smog. He could understand it, he'd been the reason for many of those lectures, after all. How many times had Bruce caught him smoking on the roof? He'd lost count long before he'd died, and each one had come with a 'don't do that to yourself, Jaylad'. It was a disgusting habit.

But it also helped to edge out the stink of the city as the smoke curls out from his nose. It wasn't like it could kill him anymore, anyway.

"Wait. Stop, kid. Just...stop." He sighed, flicking his ash before pulling one foot up to the edge of the unit he was sitting on so that he could drape one arm around his knee. "I'm just fucking with you. No bear traps. Besides, if it's as big as you say it is, a bear trap wouldn't do much anyway.

What's your goal? You don't want to kill it, you don't want to hurt it....so, what? Ask it nicely to go away? Threaten it to make it stop killing?"

Neither of those would work, of course. Jason wasn't going anywhere and the people he took out in those woods weren't people that could be handled by anyone other than possibly Bruce, himself. And even then, Bruce would need years to learn the limits of the supernatural world. The little would-be mage that Batman did have access to wasn't exactly trained. Or, you know, aware.

"Did you ever stop to ask yourself why it kills some people but not others?"

Though Tim would like to believe he'd never do what he was told by just anyone, he did still pause in his steps when Jason called for him to stop storming away. Maybe it was nothing more than knowing there was no one else that he wanted to go to for help with this, but he found hope rising in his chest when the older boy admitted he'd just been fucking with him. Such an admission should have made him angry, but it didn't. So maybe there was a positive side to being let down by so many people in your life that you had super low standards.

Nothing that Jason asked of him was unfair, but he didn't think he'd like his answer, either. "I guess... I'm not really sure." He brushed some of his dark hair behind his ear as he turned around, crossing his arms over his chest once more. This time it was a defensive gesture, though not because he felt physically threatened. Tim was wary he was about to get laughed off the roof, and he wasn't sure how he would take something like that. He shouldn't allow anything Jason said to hurt him, but that was easier said than done. "I don't want to hurt it, and I don't think it should have to go away if it lives here. I'd really rather not threaten it, and I might not be able to. But it has to stop killing people, Hood. You know why." He's not about to repeat any of Bruce's lectures to Jason. That'd be a dick move (and probably a Dick move), but it would be cruel. Tim might be fierce but he tries not to be cruel to anyone. Not like that.

"I know that there are a lot of people that believe that some people aren't worth an opportunity to redeem themselves." Present company included, obviously. "But one person shouldn't have to live with the weight of deciding the fate of all those evil people, right? It can't feel amazing." His lips twitched into a deeper frown. "And besides, imagine if someone else found out about this. They might be willing to hurt it or kill it in revenge. I don't want that, either."

Out of all of them, Tim was probably the one with the most capacity for cruelty in him...but he was also the one with the least drive the use it. It was oddly endearing any time that it was brought to Jason's attention. He didn't like it, mostly because he still wasn't sure if he was really willing to start forgiving the people who'd once been his family.

But Tim wasn't really a part of that, was he? Technically, sure, but in reality Tim was no more his brother than a rando on the street. Dick was his brother. Damian was his brother, though not through Bruce. But Tim was just...the kid who'd put his old uniform on.

The kid with the camera and too much luck.

Tilting his head up to the sky, he let out a plume of smoke and sighed before he flicked the cherry of his cig to the ground so that he could stash the rest of the stick back in the pack. It disappeared back into his jacket and he leveled his gaze back on the younger before he pushed himself off the AC unit, landing with a heavy thud on the fine gravel.

"Why aren't you terrified of this thing? Yeah, it saved you, but it's still not human. It's a monster, right? Something that goes bump in the dark. So why are you trying to save it instead of just laying out all this proof to B and letting him figure out if his 'code' extends to lycanthropes or not? Honest question."

"I am scared of it." Tim admitted without any hesitation. There was no point in lying, and he was not so brainless as to not be afraid of a beast like that. "I know that it could have ripped me in half if it wanted to. It had plenty of opportunities. But it didn't, Hood. It let me go. It took the risk that I wouldn't just try to find some way to get back to it and kill it. It trusted me. So I trust it."

Yeah, he sounded a little naive. There was still some of that left in him, even after all of the garbage that he'd been through. He had to trust his gut, that was important. And his gut told him that bringing Bruce in would be a bad idea. That killing the creature would be a bad idea. And he was firm in that belief, as he'd just displayed by being willing to walk away.

He gazed up at the red helmet that stared back down at him, dark bangs a little too long and barely out of the way of his eyes. Even through the whites of his domino, it was somehow clear that he was pleading with Jason. To understand. To be on his side. On his team. They weren't friends--he doubted that the guy would ever like him at all--but that didn't mean they couldn't be a damn good duo.

"Please, Hood." The younger man finally whispered, feeling vulnerable in a way that made his stomach twist.

'It trusted me.'

Well shit. He had, hadn't he? He'd been exhausted from the fight, already bleeding far too much...if Tim had wanted to put an end to the monster in front of him, it wouldn't have been easy, but it might have been possible. Especially since he'd apparently gone into those woods already expecting a werewolf. He didn't remember smelling silver that night, but that didn't mean it wasn't hidden away in Tim's belt.

Huffing out a grumbling sigh, Jason pondered his options. He could send the boy away. Call him an idiot and drive him out of his territory. Tim would go...but that would shut down any avenue of working through this without bloodshed.

He could pretend to just be helping from the outside. It would soothe Tim's need to Do Something while still being in control of the situation. He could feed Tim just enough information to keep him safe and out of his way where it mattered. But if Tim ever found out the truth--and he would. He was a lot of things, but a damned good detective was at the top of that list--any trust between them would be gone. There would be anger and hurt and possibly Tim bringing in the family just because he felt slighted.

The last option set his hackles on edge. Secrecy was a defense, a way to keep himself safe since he didn't have a pack to watch his back. Anonymity was crucial to keeping Ra's off his tail.

But he'd trusted Tim. Trusted the younger vigilante to not kick him while he was down. Trusted him not to just run back to Bruce and tell him all about the thing that went bump in the night. That was a pretty big trust...but exactly how far did it go?

It would be nice, not having to hide himself from absolutely everyone. He hadn't been lying earlier, wolves were pack animals and humans were herd animals and mixing the instincts of both was easier than one might imagine. He'd cut himself off from the rest of the League, denied his pack when he'd refused to go back after his failure to kill Batman and Robin. He was....alone. Had been alone for years.

"'Trust' is a strong fucking word, baby bird....but I'm getting there. Don't make me regret it." He said the words before he could think himself out of it, looking at the ground instead of watching the understanding bloom on that too young face. "Stay out of my hunting grounds. The people I take there can't be held in a human system. They'd rip their way out of it like it was nothing and not even pause to consider the people they kill on the way. I mean it, I won't save you next time."

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