Archive of Our Own

So who’s being Santa this year?”

It was December 20th when Cassie had asked that question, idly, in the back of Tim’s mind, he was wondering the same, but casework and mission reports took the forefront of his mind and kept pushing the creeping thought back and filed it neatly as a later-Tim problem in the back of his mind. 

It didn’t really surprise him that she was asking so close to the date either, they wouldn’t really be Young Justice if they didn’t procrastinate and wing important things. He kind of found the atmosphere of that refreshing with his team. Tim would often stray away from projects and would go on random side-quests whenever a thought popped into his head, being left to his own devices for most of his childhood made it so no one ever really steered him back on the path, and so he would often go on tangents and push priorities like school to the side of his more personal projects - his grades never suffered, school was unbearably easy, so his parents never really cared, his teachers would get frustrated though. When he joined the Bats it was kind of a wake up call. Things were tiem sensitive and Bruce had a very rigid structure he had to follow - he couldn’t just go down a rabbit hole or get distracted, but old habits died hard and usually he found himself going on those tangents again - it was helpful with cases sometimes, but still he got a lecture from Bruce more than once about wasting time, he remedied that by giving himself more time by not doing other things like sleep and eat - not that he did those very consistently either but it was less so now. 

With his team, however, he could go down as many rabbit holes as he pleased. In fact, sometimes Bart and Kon would even join him on that journey and Cissie and Anita would enable it - if only to irritate Cassie. But Cassie never told him off for it either, she was the leader, so she knew what to prioritise, Tim had less responsibility so he could do as he pleased. And while Cassie usually delegated the research, reports, and strategizing to him, he still had much more freedom to do them as he pleased. It made the whole thing more enjoyable, even if there was unnecessary facts in the reports and debriefings - at the very least, it seemed to keep their team more engaged, which was encouraging.

But that was a fair question though. What was going to happen this Christmas? Santa was still dead and it’s not like they really ever cared about the holiday season that much, but some responsibility did fall to them because technically they were the reason for his untimely demise.

Like they didn’t mean to get Santa Claus killed, and before that mission most of them hadn't even believed in Santa, or at least didn’t feel too strongly in that belief.

But Santa was real, and they had to take up his duties for the year…

They just didn’t realise it had to be the next year too.

It actually made sense, since they were the only people who knew Santa was actually real. And, subsequently, dead . 

Still it was a huge pain in the ass. Sure Santa brung joy to so many children, and yes, they were the ones responsible for his death, as crazy as that was. But they also didn’t really do holidays for various reasons, and the concept of Santa Claus only applied to a certain percentage of the world. They could claim plausible deniablity, it’s not like anyone could link a holiday deities death back to them.

Technically they didn’t have to do this…

“I don’t got anything going on.”

OoOoO

“This is such a pain .”

“Come on Anita, get into the spirit of the holiday.” Bart smiled cheerily, covered in tinsel that he just threw, having glittery strings fall all around him and Anita, who looked lessss than amused as the strips of sparkles fluttered down into her curly hair. It was going to take forever to get them out.

“I am in the spirit to kill someone right now.” she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness as big as her dangerously syrupy smile - something she probably learned from Cissie, since Anita does really do the whole pleasantries thing, even faux pleasantries - but Bart was always the exception in most matters. Tim rolled his eyes.

“That’s how we got into this mess.” he grumbled, not even bothering to look at the mess, he would not be dealing with the holiday clean up - they already had enough messes as is. Anita groaned, slouching in her spot where she was sitting on the sleigh, that Tim and Bart had revamped overtime and by that she means that they would continuously make “quick” fixes out of scraps they found while travelling the earth at inhumane speeds. Mad scientists don’t really have a set time to do things, everyone on the team has learned, they will simply just do them as they please, no matter where they are or what situation they are in. Luckily, most of Tim and Bart’s spontaneous projects had at least some relevance to their activity, if was a mission at least.

If they were being honest, none of them knew how Christmas was supposed to actually go either. None of them properly celebrated winter holidays before, weather it be from a semi-to-majorly fucked up homelife/childhood, or just that they didn’t celebrate in general, or that they were too busy. They had no clue what they were supposed to do, even if it was the most commercial holiday. They could bake as many cookies or throw around as much tinsel as they wanted, it didn’t mean they got the appeal any more.

And they tried to learn, but it’s kinda hard to learn an entire tradition in one year, and it didn’t help that they procrastinated until December (read:forgot entirely that this was now their responsibility). They ended up just turning on the hallmark channel and sitting in front of the TV for a few days and tried to avoid Cissie’s cooking.

Personally, Anita doesn’t care in anycase. It’s not hard, therapeutic even in some cases. She just chucks boxes or rocks through windows and calls it a day, window frames notwithstanding. They told her that she shouldn’t do that, even though they do it too, it’s just she doesn’t care if the windows are open or not. There is always damage to be done though, weather it’s setting trees on fire because the ashes from the fireplace are still smouldering, or getting continually tangled in christmas lights and not noticing until they’re dragging even single house lights down the block - breaking a window or two is kinda tame.

If Slobo was here, he’d totally be on her side. She misses that little shit sometimes, for some reason especially now. They were like two halves of a whole, Slobo got her in a way the other couldn’t quite and he was her best friend - not that she would admit that when she was alive. He actually made her feel part of the team more so than the other - which don’t get her wrong they were great, but Slobo was just…different. 

Stars, screw holiday emotional bs, she refused to believe it exists. The only reason she’s even thinking about him right now, is because they are down one person on this bullshit present run, and it shows. 

Speaking of “Ay, why doesn’t little Miss Olympiad Popstar hafta be here?” she asked pointedly. 

“She has a practice she couldn’t get out of.” Cassie answered, she also sounded irritated too, which means she probably that excuse was as bogus as Anita thought it was “Besides she’s retired.” Yeah, like that mattered.

“Yeah, and Greta lost her powers and she’s still running point.” Anita huffed, And I’m a single parent of both my parents, and I’m still out here.  She doesn’t say that though. Of course Anita’s continual beef will have her clowning on Cissie later about team spirit - something Anita is famously bad for and the other blonde reminds her of constantly, so it’s nice to get on a high horse for this round, no matter how petty it was.

“Because I have nothing better to do.” Greta’s voice crackled over the comms. Anita smiled a bit at hearing it, it was nice to hear her voice again - Greta had been calling less and less since losing her powers, something about school getting busier. Anita was happy for her, of course she was, she was finally living a normal life, getting on her feet, making something of herself outside the masks (she knows that no one can escape it fully, like, look at them now, still cleaning up the mess from their younger days, hell, Anita is technically retired too, she still is fighting. Max too, even in his old age, he can’t leave fully - this life sticks to you like a leech and the only way out is if you die and even then that’s not a sure thing. But still, they can get close to normal, Greta is the closest she’s seen - going to school, doing normal things at night like studying or gossiping with her friends instead of jumping criminals and putting away scum. Good for her, really. ) 

Anita ignored as Cassie rolled her eyes at them; they were so obvious. Then again they all kinda were. They somehow maintained their weird relationship with each other - some evolved like like Cassie and Kon, some stayed the same like Tim and Cissie, but they never stopped growing impossibly closer to one another - even with the distance.

Not beating the polyamorus allegations should’ve been a clue.

“At least we don’t have to eat her shitty cookies.” Anita grumbled, pushing her thoughts away. She shivered at the memories - Anita has a pretty strong stomach and even she was laid up in the bathroom for 30 minutes, those things were like cement blocks.

“I liked her cookies.” Bart piped up, and the other girl rolled her eyes.

“Of course you did.” she scoffed, Bart made an offended noise. But it was true Bart would and could eat anything - they don’t mention anything on the days he can eat nothing , just keep a closer eye on him, but they know he hates it when he’s visibly anything other than happy. 

“You’re such a grinch.” he said back, Greta giggled, and Anita doesn’t say this to be sappy but it actually genuinely sounded like bells. Bart smirks at her knowingly, catching her the dopey expression she must’ve had on her face.

“You little-” 

“Everybody shut up!” Cassie interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention to her serious face, or maybe it was just bemused - hard to tell these days “Now let’s all pray to our lord and savior,” that got everyone to have a solemn air around them as the gathered in a circle and closed their eyes. “the one who taught us the true meaning of Christmas.” Anita nodded solemnly, and somehow the air over comms became just as somber too.

“Meriya Cary.” 

“Beyonce.”

Everyone looked to Bart who was still squeezing his eyes shut praying, after a beat they closed their eyes again.

“Beyonce.”

OoOoO

The Santa Operation ™ was an odd system.

If there was one thing Tim was good at it was making up systems and plans, Cassie was better at managing sure, but Tim was the strategist. People were hard for Tim, but it’s pretty easy for Cassie; just like overthinking is hard for her, not that she’s not smart but Tim can think faster, and Cassie can be impulsive. They balanced each other out. 

Tim is kinda glad that he isn’t the leader sometimes because of that  - sure Damian and Jason give him shit for it sometimes, but not because they think Cassie is incapable, it was more so because he kinda broke the stereotype of Bats being the leader of any team. But it was less pressure this way, he can spitball ideas easier without having the decision of committing to any one of them, he could go through as many hypotheticals as he wanted - although Cassie, Cissie or Kon did have to rein him in from time to time when he started going on tangents. It was great, giving up the title of leader is totally worth that freedom.

That being said, the Santa Operation ™  was different in a lot of ways. For one, there was already a well worn system that worked for centuries - thus creating a status quo of what exactly the quality should entail that was very detailed, unlike normal missions where throwing away the first 50 plans was pretty par of the course. Secondly, it was a mix of weird magic technology that seemed ancient and ahead of it’s time all at once -Tim and Bart had kinda geeked out over it the second year they were Santa, when it wasn’t such a whirlwind. But the problem was they didn’t have any magic users - or at least none that were well versed enough to  know what the magic was or how to use it - they mainly focused on science and punching things. And the third was the way it was operated by outside help. The system worked when there was only one Santa, and after Young Justice had accidentally killed him, half the field elves quit siting ‘incompetence’. After Young Justice said they’d take the responsibility of Santa another 68% quit. 

Now every elf was put on toy duty and Young Justice was left to figure out delivery. That’s as much of the system as they got now.

Eh, they’ve worked with less before.

It was all good and fine, they could figure out travel easily when more than half the team could fly and had superspeed. The thing is, there is no addresses on the gifts, just names - and do you know how many duplicate names are in this world, seriously no one in original. The old system worked mainly on houses, so basically the sleigh would detect the houses that needed gift or coal and would get the location via magical energy.

Magical energy they did not have. So they had to improvise. And it took alot of improvisation, but as Tim was re-watching Spiderman(2017) Miles Morales hit him with the answer. Magic was just energy, and if that were the case, to differentiate the different houses, each toy must have the same frequency as the location. 

So instead of blindly guessing - which was horrible a disaster really, who put them in charge of this, they had to make educated guesses based on the house - their third year, they actually had something to follow.

Since Young Justice only had delivery duty, they just had to follow the locations that was on Tim’s Christmas dohiky - as Slobo so lovingly named it - and they would often split up in the timezones rather than any one location or country. 

But because it was so new, sometimes it took them to weird places when the natural magical energy was imbalanced - and hey, it’s the first run through and Tim does have other things to do, of course there were gonna be kinks, but it was working for the most part…he thinks. 

So what if they ended up in the occasional random place?

Like an abandoned building that was picking up on a major magic reading apparently in the middle of England. Where there was certainly no holiday anything going on, but they had to check anyway. Homeless kids would end up in odd places too, and like hell they were gonna be deprived of a Christmas gift because their spot was a bit creepy - Tim lived in a mausoleum of a house for most of his life, and he was 89% sure it was haunted, if not by ghosts that lived there, then definitely by one of the ancient artifacts that were kept in their basement; if being Robin taught him anything it was that most ancient artifacts that survived in pristine, uneroded condition were cursed, magic or just had bad juju. Either way, he could handle creepy.

Tim and Bart didn’t question it at this point because Santa magic was weird and who were they to question it when the dohicky was right like 90% of the time. Sometimes the readings were just of the general location of the gifts because apparently Santa delivered to homeless children too, which is nice. But they had found that they couldn’t just leave the gift in a general location because it would get stolen, and they also couldn’t hide it, otherwise the kids couldn’t find it - he doesn’t think that most of the kids know that Santa delivers to them, or even believe in Santa. It took a bit of leg work and was tricky because they couldn’t be seen directly delivering it to the kid - they were fucking vigilantes though, they could stealth so well -  but they all unanimously agreed that it was one of the more fulfilling parts of their job. 

So they entered the building, they’ve gotta say they’ve never gotten a reading this big though. They’d have to call the sleigh for a restock probably. The reading was a little weirder than the others, but the more kids in one area the higher the reading. Plus they were too busy to really think twice about it, they only had a few more hours and half the world to go… and they had to be home by morning too.

And they’ve encountered a lot of things in their time as acting Santa, poorly made booby traps, dog shit - on the fucking roof how does that happen- kids waking up, overbaked cookies - worse than Cissie’s, they’ve learned to just let Bart have all the cookies, speedsters rarely get a stomach ache that lasts for more than 5 minutes. 

But when they walked into Constantine snorting a line of white dust and a body husk with the bones carefully extracted and cleaned from it, a mortar and pestle near the bone saw. It was a pretty gruesome sight actually. They blinked at each other for a minute.

The hollowed corpse was familiar.

“That’s where he went?” Bart asked, not at all surprised, just observant.

“I didn’t kill ‘im.”Constantine huffed, eyes blown a bit. If Tim didn’t already know that, he definitely wouldn’t believe him.

“We know.” Bart chirped and Constantine, half ready to verbally defend himself, paused.

“Yeah?” he asked curiously. Bart just nodded, his hair flopping around wildly. “How so?”

“Cuz we did.” he said happily. He then turned to Tim “Knew we were missing something.” Tim only nodded in agreement, although he didn’t forget that they never recovered the body.

“Ya killed Santa?” Constatine had a brow raised, and either he was impressed or concerned, Tim didn’t know. Again, he doesn’t people well.

“It was an accident.”

“What’dya go an’ do tha’ for… not tha’ I blame you, he’s a tool. But usually he’s nice to tots.” Tim grimaced at being called children, no one ever treated them like that - he’d be fine with it if they did, but they don’t so…

“Well, why’d ya skin him and snort his bones.” Bart shot back, in an innocent voice that Tim only half believed was genuine. 

“Santa magic is rare.” Was the only answer and Bart nodded like it made sense. And Tim…

Tim was so done with this, so he just turned and walked out.

He knew they should’ve looked for the body.

OoOoO

December 24th.

A date measured by Earth’s orbit around it’s yellow sun. Happening every 365.25 days on that infernal planet’s measurement of time.

A dreaded date, that filled him with shame and humiliation.

Every year - by the planet’s standards -  he was subjected to embarrassment and degradation, as an entity there known by many names but most commonly ‘Santa Claus’, would serve him his action’s consequences. 

The first time it happened, Darkseid was confused. A pudgy human man, clad in white and red that rode in with a pack of what are to me known as ‘reindeer’ had broken into his near impenetrable base that was guarded by swarms upon swarms of parademons and fierce warriors. But none of that seemed to matter as the man strode toward him, a lump of an earth mineral called ‘coal’ in his hand, giving it to him with a disappointed expression. Needless to say, Darkseid was floored, not even the Justice League could infiltrate his base with such ease. It was truly and utterly humiliating. 

Darkseid immediately upped all defenses and made sure that his base was once again impenetrable.

Then it happened again.

Then again.

And then again.

Over and over Darkseid would fortify his defense and over and over the one known as Father Christmas would come in and deliver his rock, unscathed. It was insulting and mortifying. He was the strongest being in the universe and he kept getting bested by one measly human, with little to no combative skills - as far as he knew, he’s never taken Claus in a fight, and honestly, he is discomfiture to try.

It kept happening like clock work. He did not know why. When he dared to finally look into the matter he couldn’t help but feel the shame flood him. Apparently, it was an earth super stition that on one night a year - the eve of christmas- Santa Claus, or culture equivalent, would break into children’s houses to leave them gifts; however if a child’s actions were deemed unsatisfactory or ‘naughty’ they would be punish  with coal instead of a gift (which is absurd, considering the many uses coal had as a resource and a means of energy and heat. It was hardly a punishment, but he supposes the children of earth are ungrateful little cretons who’d rather have a colorful, useless piece of plastic.) Frankly, the man’s skills in surveillance was quite remarkable, to keep tabs on every single child that world had. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud but it was satisfying to know his most unvanquishable foe had a formidable skillset. Made him feel less pathetic everytime he appeared in front of him.

Apparently what he deemed conquering the known universe and multiverse was seen as ‘naughty’ and for some reason he was singled out amongst all other members of the universe to be delivered his penance - which made no sense, because he was not the only one outside the planet’s galaxy to try to conquer the puny rock that housed some of the universe’s formidable warriors. Yet here he was, getting coal delivered to him, and he had no such source that others had been delivered the same treatment. The man came and left unscathed and had served him his infernal punishment that classified him as ‘naughty’.

Not that he felt any regret to his actions, but that he was allowing it to happen in the first place. And that it continued to happen despite his many attempts to make it stop. He hated those accursed lumps of rock. They would get dust everywhere every time he crushed them.

His only reprieve that Santa Claus allowed him, was that he made it a private affair.

As much as he loathed it, it had become a routine that he came to begrudgingly accept.

Until, he did not come one year.

He had heard word that Mordrek had successfully eliminated the man somehow. Darkseid was secretly furious, how could Mordrek - fucking Mordrek , the useless fool - defeat his enemy when he, the most powerful being in the universe could not lay a hand on him? He was also secretly relieved, finally his torment was over. And oddly he was a bit sad, no one had come close to Claus’ infiltration skills, it was rather thrilling - not that he’d admit that either.

It was the most conflicting December 24th since the first arrival of Santa Claus on Apokolypse. He decided that celebrating via conquering another pesky world, would be appropriate.

Little did he know that something far more forboding than Santa Claus was on the horizon.

He did not even know how children managed to get to Apokolypse. Yet, the next year, he found the scoundrels breaking in.

He caught the scamps of course, they were less skillful than Santa Claus - but he had to admit they made it further than he was comfortable with. They hadn’t cowered, however, and instead had the audacity to demand an audience with him. Darkseid humored them, if only because he no longer had plans this evening. That mood was quickly soured when they presented that damned rock that haunts his nightmares.

He raged. Putting the children in their place. The Justice League did not know these kids were here - although he could see a resemblance in a few of their appearances - and he’d make an example of Santa’s predecessors. 

They somehow narrowly escaped, no doubt with Santa’s magic - an ancient thing he could never understand. They did not even to seem to realize they were using it though.

Though the confrontation was messy, it did not deter the children the next year to come back - this time far more prepared and skilled.

They had grown, and while they lacked the grace and finesse of his previous holiday foe, they had their own unorthodox methods that got progressively more baffling and unpredictable as time went on. 

Some schemes were so childish and outlandish that Darkseid sheathed to believe that they were not taking this or him seriously. In fact, they seemed to make it a goal to be more of a nuisance than Santa Claus ever did. Where Santa had delivered his humbling with grace and disappointment, the children seemed to make it their personal goal to make this the single most exasperating experience that Darkseid had ever endured.

No matter how much he threatened and threw army after army of parademons after them, they always managed to make it to his command center and annoy him with their antics of tinsel, glitter and snowballs - how did they even get snow to last in Apokolypse?

It was an ego blow more than anything, and he had learned not to underestimate these kids. Each interaction with them, draining him more and more. He had seen them in battle on occasion - he had to admit they were much more polished in front of their predecessors, also more cautious; Darkseid knew better however, and did not mention it - he liked his battles traditional, and those brats were anything but. He does not understand why the Justice League does not seem to take them seriously and treat them as if they are infants, the implication of what they manage to pull off every year is terrifying, they are much more capable than their mentors believe (maybe that is just how they want it. Darkseid can acknowledge the deceit of not showing their true potential and making their potential opponents believe they are less skilled than they are. It is a cowardly tactic, and will fail on Darkseid - who has already seen their potential - but it seems to work for them.) In equal parts it horrifies and irritates him, that they manage to get to his command center, past an army of vicious parademons and Apokolypse’s natural defenses and also manage to decorate the area in lights, trees, and weird scents and glitter. So. Much. Glitter.

“Come on it’s not that bad.” the little speedster was shoving hard lumps of what were considered Christmas cookies into his mouth. They were rock hard and would surely be a feat to poison them. Maybe it was a form of poison training? The amount of glocose alone was enough to kill lesser men. And now he was trying to give one of those abominations to Darkseid - was this a challenge?

“Aw, come on making him eat Cissie’s baking is cruel even for him.” the half-bred Kryptonian mocked.

“Hey!” the red clad archer said and huffed, crossing her arms “They aren’t that bad.” she pouted, puffing out her cheek.

“It’s basically torture.” the former apprentice of Batman spoke in a deadpan.

“This entire ordeal is torture.” he grumbled and they all looked at him, blinking owlishly. Usually he wouldn’t engage in such needless banter, he found it anine. But he couldn’t help but engage this once.

“Aw come on Mr.Darkseid.” the speedster whines and flopped on his shoulder. He does not know why he’s allowing this. If his enemies could see him now, force to cater the whims of their spawn’s holiday grandeur. ”Where’s your holiday spirit?” his forehead ticked in irritation.

“He’s a genocidal maniac. He’s got none.” The half-breed smirked “That’s why he gets coal.” and he punted a piece of that rotten rock at his face as it bounced off. He growled and his eyes glew, like magma being stoked; they were not threatened.

“Can’t be worse than Waller.” Wonderwoman’s apprentice spoke with a shrug. The group collectively shivered and agreed.

“Honestly, the coal has more nutrition than the cookies.” the small bat grumbled. Darkseid was inclined to agree that the assessment was not far off.

“Seriously dude!?” The red archer whined pathetically.

“Let it go mate.” the Empress rolled her eyes at the small bat.

“She poisoned me!” he retorted indignantly

“So does Bart, you never turn down his cooking.” the Empress shot back.

“You try turning down Bart’s cooking.” the half breed came to the small bat’s defense - like he always does when it’s not him insulting the other boy. It goes both ways though, although the small bat is far more volatile and prone to violence than the halfbreed when it comes to defending the others honor; it was all rather annoying.

“You don’t like my cooking?” The small speedster popped his head up and looked close to tears. Everyone broke out into an argument about who hurt his feeling and while they were distracted the speedster’s expression morphed into a satisfied grin. 

Huh, deceitful.

Honestly these kids would make amazing lieutenants…

if they weren’t the absolute bane of his existence.

OoOoO

This always felt pointless.

Always, always, always. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, doesn’t know if he even cares anymore or why he ever started to care in the first place. He never cared about christmas or this stupid charade before. 

It always served as a reminder that he was lonely, in a house too big and too cold for his little body. By himself . But for a while, just a second, it didn’t. He had people to celebrate with, and even if his dad didn’t want to try with him, he had his team. He had a tradition, and even if he never got the holidays, his team didn’t either. 

They were together.

Now he’s alone.

Again.

But this time it hurt so much worse than before.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this. He has a million other things to do, he can’t waste time. Not a single second. He has to find Bruce, run from the council, get the assassins off his back. He had a mission to do.

But…he misses them. He hated being Santa, they all hated this job; they never understood it, and usually they were good at understanding things. It was nothing but a tedious chore that brought stress and customer complaints, but when they - Young Justice - was dealing with it, they were dealing with it together . Tim has never had a tradition before, much less a holiday one - and this one, the one he shared with the first people to love and accept him unconditionally - call them family without being afraid to say it to anyone, without feeling like he’s intruding or that it was taboo. People he never had to tiptoe around, or be hyper aware of their mood. People he could fully relax around, no matter how he or they were feeling.

They were gone; scattered to the winds. This is all he has left.

It’s kind of pathetic. The elves think so too, he thinks, the ones that stayed - they dropped 34%, he’d wonder how many of them there were in the first place if he cared. He looks like hell, he hasn’t properly taken care of himself in… he wants to say since he left Gotham, but if he’s being honest it’s probably since Kon died. Or was it Bart? His Dad? Steph would’ve yelled at him if she wasn’t so busy faking her death - or maybe she wouldn’t, that was mean…she probably shouldn’t- no but she didn’t cause she was busy being not-dead. Stars, he’s an idiot. He’s the only one who isn’t dead or missing, well except Cassie, but Cassie was in a cult right now apparently. For Superboy , that fuckin hypocrite. They don’t say anything though. He’s not going to do anything, cause he’s not a hypocrite …also he doesn’t have the energy for one more thing.

He’s going through the motions though, not the right ones but hey, he’s moving.

This had been the most successful Christmas since Santa died…

It makes him feel hollow.

He wishes something would go wrong like it used to. 

It feels silly, because everytime something went wrong it drained him, but at least he had his friends picking up his slack. Now when something goes wrong he hopes it’ll end him has to deal with it himself.

Everything feels so out of place these days. It feels off balance with all the loss in his life, and the scales aren’t leveling out. He lost too much too quickly. He just felt heavy. Things should feel normal, but they don’t. 

Like being back in Gotham.

Gotham was his home, the place he grew up and protected for years. These streets should feel familiar, but it feels like there is a filter cast over everything that makes it all seem like it’s not that same city - a city he no longer protects. Or lives in. 

He wants to get out, he knows he hasn’t been here in months and he knows he’s avoiding it - no sense in denying it to himself, because he’s only got himself and he’s in denial about almost everything else. 

Gotham goes quicker and slower because of it.

He’s on the last houses when he catches the sight of the bridge that leads to Bristol. There are only politicians and rich people that don’t have kids or are on their holiday island for vacation or whatever. There is only one kid that lives across the bridge right now.

Tim can’t help the pettiness that bubbles up in his chest, to just ignore the house or better yet go over and give the little snot that took his place coal. Damian would deserve it, the little shit has tried to kill him more than once. But it was likely Damian wouldn’t even know what a lump of coal would mean. Would Dick have even told him what Christmas or the concept of Santa was? Of course he would, but Damian wouldn’t be foolish enough to believe in a fairy tail anyway… or maybe he would? Tim doesn’t even know his age, much less how the kid really is - and even if he did before, Damian might’ve changed in the months he was gone. He hadn’t heard about Robin murdering anyone at least, so the kid must have some sort of leash on him now.

He knows Dick has been trying to give the kid a childhood, and on his better days, Tim’s bitter heart could acknowledge that - it’s just he lost so much too quickly to lose another thing. He knows Dick is doing his best, and it’s been months, some of Dick’s teachings might’ve gotten through to the little shit. Maybe a lump would set him back if he did know what it meant, or discouraged him. It’s never been that deep before though. Dohicky is green, they get a toy; dohicky is red, they get a rock, simple.

Tim looks at the bag of toys that he reserved for Gotham, dwindling down - he was just gonna donate them, like they do with all the spares and it’s not likely Damian will even know. Dick probably got him a thousand presents to make up for all the missed Christmases so not getting a gift from ‘Santa’ wouldn’t do anything but…

The dohicky was blinking green.

Goddammit, he didn’t even know why he was going to the manor or sneaking in through the window with a present instead of a rock. He was too tired to decipher why, maybe it was just the holiday spirit - even though he didn't really feel it at all this run.

But even though he was having a shit holiday, there was no sense in potentially undoing Dick’s work. It didn’t have to mean anything, he didn’t even know the kid anymore, he could genuinely give a shit about others wellbeing now for all he knew - Dick had that effect on people, it was annoying. And Tim was just doing his job. Follow the dohicky, it was pretty simple - much more simple than figure out how to pry open interdimensional energy to get your not-dead not-dad out of time…

He’d be in and out, it was just his job.

So imagine his surprise when he was, once again, at the end of the little shit’s blade.

“The fuck you doing up at-” Tim didn’t actually know what time it was, he hadn’t known in months, present time wasn’t really relevant to the mission. But he knows that Batman and Robin didn’t patrol tonight, and if they did it would’ve ended hours ago. He settles to lazily stare at the gremlin who snarls at him.

“What are you doing breaking in, imposter?” he growls and it may just be Tim’s sleep deprived brain or maybe that he’s faced too many assassins who would’ve killed him by now, but he thinks it’s almost cute.

“Entirely up to you, gremlin.” Tim drawls, because Tim doesn’t know what really classifies as ‘nice’ but it probably isn’t a sword to the throat - it is nice that Damian hasn’t slashed him yet though. He put his dohicky away, after all he’s Santa, shouldn’t he be the judge of character? Was the old Santa the judge of character? If so, then wouldn’t Young Justice’s morals replace Santa’s, or was it still operating out of the old system. He doesn’t think a couple of months is enough to get someone off the naughty list when their shenanigans involved shank sticking in people bodies… but Damian was…trying? He thinks. Was that enough for Santa? Or was it enough for Tim? Ugh, he’s getting a headache, usually he’d just rant these kind of ideas with Bar-

“Cease your riddles and tell me why you are infiltrating our base.” Okay, so maybe Dick hasn’t had much of an effect on Damian yet. If he still referred to his home as a ‘base’ jeez, that was dark. Tim was probably gonna just leave him a present out of pity at this point.

“Chill, I’m just here to drop this off.” he reached into his bag and Damian became more hostile, putting his guard up and raising his hackles.

“Hands where I can see them, drop your weapon!”

“It’s a present, brat, jeez” Tim quickly got out the present and showed him. Damian did not back down, still staring at him suspiciously. Tim rolled his eyes and put the present down near the tree - it was a crudely wrapped stuffed bear with a Robin mask on - Dick’s version of the suit. Weirdly fitting, Tim can’t help but smile.

He turns around, Damian is still there, sword still held up, but it’s not a threat anymore. He has this look on his face like a cross between confused and frustrated - it makes him look constipated and Tim holds back a laugh as he straightened his face into something unreadable.

“Kay bye.” he says after staring awkwardly at Damian staring at the toy for an insufferable amount of time, and is half way out the window he left open when Damian speaks.

“What is the meaning of this, Drake?” he asks and Tim sighs and turns a little to face him, keeping his feet perched on the window sill.

“Meaning of what, brat?” he drones, he’s too tired for this and has like the entire rest of the country, Canada, Mexico, and half of South America to go. He should just leave.

“Why did you come from …wherever you did to bring a children’s toy here?” he asks. The ‘for me’ part went unsaid, probably to shy to presume, that was almost touching.

“Because it’s Christmas.” and his team killed Santa, so now they gotta keep up the charade that the dude is alive, but most of them died so now he’s working over time. He doesn’t say that part though. “Where else would I be?” he says with a quirked brow.

“Basking in your delusions.” That makes him bristle at the mention of no one believing him about Bruce - he knows he’s right though. Until he thinks about it too much, then he’s delusional.   “And if you were truly here for the holidays, you would stay or at least reply to one of Grayson’s numerous texts he insists on sending you.” It’s a family holiday. Is what the kid leaves out, but Tim hears it, almost like DIck is speaking it himself. Damian looks like he ate a lemon at that. Tim too startled that Damian actually admitted that Dick wanted him around to suppress a low chuckle.

“Still not apart of your family, eh?” he says self-deprecating, he isn’t even sure if he wants to be. But Dick is his brother and Cass is his sister and Bruce is his not-dad and…he’s kinda always wanted a little brother, maybe one that was less stabby, but that wasn’t a requirement; one that didn’t hate him enough to wanna kill him would be nice, but he was outnumbered in that regard. Damian bristles and Tim shakes his head and sighed. He guesses he can’t be mad, he’s the one that’s ignoring Dick afterall. 

“You are a part of Richard’s.” Damian huffs “And although I do not see your value, you not being here…effects him… slightly .” it sounds like he’s forcing the words out through a steel grater. Tim almost laughs fully - stars, when was the last time he’s done that? When was the last time he felt joy? Felt anything?

“Yeah, well, I still got things to do.” Tim sighs “Do me a favor, don’t tell him I was here.” it was a 50/50 chance Damian would actually listen, and if only to not hear Dick’s griping- that was probably annoying to deal with.

Damian scoffs “As if I would reek such ridiculous hope on him - he is useless when it comes to you.” Damian muttered the last part like he resented it and Tim chuckled and turned around out the window.

“Happy holidays, brat.” 

He jumped just as he hear Damian muttered. “You’re odd, Drake.” and smirked.

The rest of his run, things started to feel less pointless.

OoOoO

Retirement was great.

Superhero retirement that is. Cissie had felt fulfilled as a hero when she was younger until she didn’t - until it became too much and suddenly there was this pressure like before and she just needed to get out and she didn’t know how long she could-

 And yes, chosen retirement was rough at first, but she wasn’t jumping at shadows as much after a bit, and then so much after she got used to the mundane that everyday life had become, it was off putting at first, like she was off kilter, like she still had something to do. And thank stars , she got used to it.

It was hard, after living as someone’s sequel and the only option out had been to let her life be that of service. The pressure kept growing, no matter where she went, and she was breaking and even worse, was aware she was breaking (unlike her other teammates…like Tim. Who put so much on himself necessarily. Out of everyone, he was the most like her. The understood expectation, that if they didn’t meet a standard or strayed out of place they’d lose everything they ever had, that they were dispensable; second chances didn’t feel like an option for them, they didn’t get to make mistakes because they were supposed to be made perfect and perfect people don’t need second chances because they always do the right thing the first time. Eventually, they would learn not to care so much about what the grownups around them thought; eventually they would just do what they felt like doing instead of guessing what they should be doing. But at that time, it felt like they were all trapped. But Tim? Tim’s whole persona was living in the shadows, and not just of the night but of his predecessors. Matching them, exceeding them, without disrespecting them. He had to prove himself, not just as a hero but as someone different, as himself . And his civilian life hadn’t made it easier, pulling him in too many opposite directions. Pulling him apart. Pieces of him silently taken as he weathered through it. Cissie understood that too, being pulled apart by Oliver and her mom and school and archery and million other things that she not only couldn’t fail in - for various reasons -but had to excel in, be the best; to live up to their expectations and legacy.)

The hardest decision was leaving the life behind, and it was scary too; that’s where she had found her support system that would love her unconditionally - her friends, who were always teasing but understanding, who would defend her even when she was wrong and caught her before she fell, who never had any expectation for her to just exist with them. But then to leave, she had to be on her own - someone outside of everyone else - or at least felt like it back then. She didn’t want anyone to sway her, but she didn’t want to be alone. She jumped at shadows, she was always alert. She was waiting for a shoe to drop, always anxious and unsure of her future, sanity slipping and rapidly approaching a crash out (and she’s glad she got out before that because Slobo, Kon and Bart died, Anita had too much responsibility with raising her parents and Greta lost her powers and was forced to retire because none of the adults wanted to help her. And Tim and Cassie did crash out, they kept going, but they never were the same. Cissie is scared for them, wants to yell at them, even after Bart and Kon came back, for them to just stop, that they had done enough. That they already sacrificed so much - their childhood - for this, and had nothing to show for it but broken consciousness and shattered relationships that were glued together with dollar store krazy glue. She wants for them so badly what she got for herself, even if it was rough and seemed impossible. Maybe it was…maybe this was just.. A really long break, because she knew that if they called her back - which they would never do - but if they did she’d come running without hesitation, put on the cowl without a second thought. Maybe she hadn’t let that part go fully, just loosened her grip.)

Joining the Olympic Archery team was a good transition, she must admit - even if she was basically giving in to what her mother trained her for her whole life, which peeved her off more that she could imagine, but it felt better because this was her decision, not her mother’s. This time, Cissie was making the choice. The choice to leave the vigilante life behind, the choice of where and how she used her skills, and the choice of putting herself first. And she had support, if not from anyone else, then it was her team. It was funny how Bart would’ve been mad if she left for the Titans but was so overjoyed when she said she was going to the Olympics. It made her feel more settled, knowing that even though her’s and their  lives were changing so drastically, their relationship would always remain a constant. 

But she settled. She made the jump and may have stumbled a bit, but she was fine. She was doing great. She was still more aware, that part of her would never go away, but she was happy. US archery somehow led to modeling which led to acting, and it’s really funny how life works sometimes, she doesn’t get it. Soon enough she was making a whole name for herself. Not something under her mother or Green Arrow or the Justice League. A life for herself, that was no one else’s but her own.

She kept in contact with her friends still, not completely cutting off her old life. But they were friends before teammates, so she never really felt like it was apart of being a vigilante. They were one of the best things to ever happen to her, and the first to support her decisions and offer any help should she need it - and she knew they would come. They were growing up too, differently, slowly (sometimes she can’t recognize them, sometimes they are all to familiar. Somehow they are always what each other needs, and she never has to worry if she’s what they need. She knows, not because they told her, she just does.) But they would always be there for each other. Like a fucked up sort of family, polycule, no grown-ups involved mess of a thing that they couldn’t really put a label on.

But sometimes families could get annoying.

Like now.

“You ready?” Cassie voice asked casually, scaring the shit out of Cissie nearly making her drop her full mug of freshly brewed coffee. She glared at the girl who was leaning in her open kitchen window, smirking at her “Losing your touch Pink?” she teased. Cissie sighed, it’s too early for this.

“What?” she asked exasperatedly, taking a long sip of her mug, never breaking eye contact. Cassie smirked, and it did a little funny thing to Cissie’s chest - she knows the demi-god did that to her on purpose, it made her softer to whatever question she asked and a bit turned on. Cissie slurped from her mug a little louder.

“It’s December 24th.” the other blonde informed.

“No.” the reply was instant, before sipping her coffee again and turning away, going to..do anything else but have this conversation that she already knew the inevitable outcome to. She could be in denial for a bit though, they had sometime, Bart, Kon and Tim were probably geeking about some sort of Santa magic tech right now, seems to be a seasonal hyperfixation for them and they roped Kon in eventually when he either got with Tim (she thinks, they never really put labels on their relationships, at least within the team. Tim and Kon were just like Cassie and Cissie, or Greta and Anita, or Anita and Slobo - when Slobo was alive. Cassie and Kon tried putting a label on their relationship, it didn’t really work out that well. She was fine with it though, they all were. Labels were for people that weren’t sure what their connection to another person entailed, and they never needed them, they just had the connection and never needed anything else.) or stopped being so stuck up about his intelligence, which was also due to Tim - or Tim egging him on when he didn’t have Bart to ramble to.

“I don’t care if you’re retired, you’re on the chore chart.” Cassie looked at her and she turned around to glare at her; they were locking in a challenging staring contest. Cissie knows, that if it came to a battle of the wills, losing against Cassie was just as inevitable as her getting into some magical rickety sleigh that they refused to let Tim and Bart to mod - but they managed to somehow do anyway. If it had been anyone else…

“I’m not doing it.” she says anyway, just to be defiant, even though she already has her winter gear ready - they’ve never asked her to join in a battle, but they asked her this every year; it wasn’t a mission, it was their tradition - it was the only reason she keeps her suit up to date. 

Still, even if she loved her friends, she hated this chore. She should’ve been like Anita, having kids always gives them a free pass. Maybe she can borrow Lian… Nah that wouldn’t work, Anita always ended uo being roped in anyway - at least for a few eastern countries.

“Come on, we need to get Slobo.” Cassie says, ignoring her entirely as she walks in more to help herself to the rest of the coffee. Another habit that they haven’t broke from Young Justice, sharing literally everything - no one singularity owned anything when they were together…besides toothbrushes because that was gross.

“He wasn’t even there that first year.” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

“Don’t care, he’s coming.” Cassie said disinterestedly, as if logic didn’t apply right now…well logic never really applied to them too often, despite Tim really trying for it to.

“He’s dead .” Cissie deadpanned.

“Yeah, and Tim got a 24 hour resurrection spell from Constantine.” Cassie shrugged as if that wasn’t a whole other can of worms to open. A little flicker of hope happened in her chest, despit knowing necromancy never ever ends up well, even if it was temporary.

“Did he sell his soul or something?” It was very possible, Tim was never the most sane. She was surprised it took the Justice League 4 years to figure that out, all of them knew almost instantly. And he was half way through his crash out before they even noticed. Then again, he was always scarily good at faking normal, though Cissie couldn’t see it. She was peeved at them, because as soon as they realised he was unstable and grieving they wrote him off, as if he wasn’t one of the smartest people in this galaxy, and that he’d proven that on multiple occasions. She wanted to yell at them again.

“Caught him snorting Santa’s bones and needed a hush favour.” and he used it for a resurrection spell so they can make their dead friend suffer through this ordeal with them? Oh how appropriate.

“And you know..?”

“Bart told me.” Cassie smirked, finishing off her coffee putting the jug in the sink “Come on you’re not getting out of this.” Cissie groaned and stumbled over to fall on Cassie’s back, wrapping her arms around her waist and propping her chin on the muscular shoulders. Maybe we have time to.. .

“Can I buy your favor with cookies.” she asked sweetly, Cassie scrunched up her nose.

“You could buy my favor by never baking again.” she muttered.

“Hey I got better!” Cissie was affronted.

Honestly, you make one batch of cookies that cause explosive diarrhea.

Whatever, at least she’ll get to get wasted and make out with Cassie at the end of the night.

OoOoO

“No Tim.”

“Cassie, it’s the most logical solution.”

“We should never have watched Arthur's Christmas; it was a mistake.” Cassie groaned, trying to massage the tension headache that came on, specifically for this event.

“And Home Alone wasn’t?” Kon asked unhelpfully, she shot him a glare.

“Home Alone was unavoidable, I took my losses gracefully.” Cassie informed, because Home Alone was a tactical decision, and one she was prepared for. She however made the mistake of not looking at the description for Aurther’s Christmas. A grave error on her part.

Honestly, both those movies should have been banned. Unfortunately, that would mean all Christmas movies they watched would be banned, if they cut out all the ones with elaborate, overly complicated plans for reverse breaking and entering.

“What losses, if anything it had many practical-” Tim tried to defend, Cassie cut him off with a  harsher glare than she gave Kon.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” she growled.

“Yeah, cuz killing Santa worked so well for us the first time.” Tim drawled, entirely too unintimidated for Cassie’s liking.

Cassie raised a brow “Oh you’re Santa now? Didn’t know you were developing a god complex.” Tim just huffed and crossed his arms. He does remember, him telling her about what he had figured out about how kids are determined naughty or nice that christmas he worked alone. Cassie hadn’t paid too much attention to it, something about it conforming to their morals or something; she was too busy feeling guilty for not being there with him, and for shirking her duties - even if it was a shit year and she was crashing out, so was Tim though, and she never could understand how he even remembered to do it or why he even cared to try. He hadn’t either, he confessed to her that night. They had spent the rest of it just holding each other, being there for each other like they hadn’t been the year before.

“What I just said I was Santa, which I am like ⅛ of Santa technically.” Tim pointed out.

“Santa is basically god.” Cassie said and Tim rolled his eyes.

“So ⅛ god?” Kon said teasingly and Tim shot him a knowing grin.

“Why do Christmas movies always involve some sort of heist?” Cassie groaned, going back to rubbing her temples. It was honestly annoying, do the people at hallmark know how impressionable children are- or forget children, do they know how impressionable her team is? Do they even know the havoc they are inspiring, just how far these fuckers would for a bit. They’ve done worse with less of a reason for fun . Forget reason with them, they just cause mischief for the love of the game.

“Because Christmas is basically a heist.” Tim answered, Kon nodding along like it made sense. “Breaking and entering, getting a goal without being seen. Heist.” Okay, it did make sense. Doesn’t mean she has to like the logic, even if she is forced to accept it. 

“Reverse heists.” Kon hummed contently.

“You know what would make the heists more efficient.” Tim piped up, Cassie shot him a warning look. Tim resolutely ignored it and looked her dead in the eye “A super sleigh.”

“No.”

“Think about it.”

“I don’t need to.”

“But it could be way more efficient.”

“I’m gonna punch you.” she’d do it, he knows she would.

“Why are you so against it?” he pouted, crossing his arms in a huff. Kon chuckled at, probably thinking it was cute. Gross. Nevermind the fact she thought the same when Cissie did the exact same thing.

“Because you and your little jumping bean already get enough mad scientist time making an interspatial portal you are not making a rocket powered super sleigh going mach 9000.” Cassie said sternly, she’s been putting her foot down on the Super Sleigh(™ by Bart Allen and Conner Kent, she’s pretty sure Tim got a patent for it too) for years now. She doesn’t know how long she can last for though. 

“It would be radioactive powered.” Tim grumbled and pouted. Cassie shot him another glare. “And the reindeer are so archaic.” he grumbled. Ah yes, Tim’s beef with the reindeer, or was it a union? She doesn’t know, he just knows that it’s about reindeer and he’s really passionate about it.

“No.”

“Come on it’s like you don’t even care about Reindeer rights. That’s gotta be some form of animal cruelty.” Ah, so it was a union. He made a good point, and these have been the same reindeer for centuries, they deserved to retire at some point. 

Still not worth the risk of a possible unnecessary nuclear explosion so…

“ No. ”

OoOoO

So there was always a recurring problem with the delivery routes.

“I don’t know what to tell you, map says we are here.”

It was always the navigation. 

It wasn’t their fault. While the Christmas dohicky showed them where to go, it didn’t show them how to get there - an error on Tim’s part that he always forgets to fix. So that just leaves them to do navigation on their own. Unfortunately, google maps don’t account for magic sleighs when calculating a route. They always argue about how exactly they should use the map or which app to use, and it never really ends up well.

“Kon…” Greta sighs, looking at him with a deadpan “We are in the Ocean.”

They didn’t know how Santa did it, and the elves wouldn’t tell them his route. Even with the eight of them and Tim’s tactical mind as they split up between time zones, they still couldn’t figure it out. And honestly fuck the elves for gatekeeping the route and navigation system - they are just salty that they got their boss killed. Which, honestly they should be over it by now.

They couldn’t use any mission or League regulated navigation gear, and even if Tim and Bart could fashion one similar or better even, it was entirely not worth it for one night a year. But it’s not their first time using google maps instead of an actual navigation system - they either don’t work on some of their missions or they don’t want the League to know , like Santa time.

“I told you to use Waze.” Cissie huffed.

“What? We gonna run into cops on our way to be Santa?” They have actually run into cops before because they’ve tripped so many house alarms. They still remain uncaught though, because faux Santa’s they may be, but if they were good at anything, it was not being caught; they were trained too well for that. Still,  that was just a stupid thing to say so Cissie gave him a deadpanned look. “Shut up.” Kon grumbled.

“We are supposed to be in Hawaii.” They were not in Hawaii.

“Didn’t you literally live there?” Yes, he did.

“Shut up. I know how to get to Hawaii.” No, he does not.

“Then why are we in the middle of the ocean.” Cissie asked pointedly, knowing the answer already. 

“Because Google Maps wasn’t built for this.” Kon replied just as snarkily.

“Then use Waze. I swear to god.” she groaned, and they just heatedly glared at each other for a moment.

“Would you two stop arguing, we are already behind schedule.” Greta piped in, and she was right but still.

“We are always behind schedule.” Cissie said at the same time Kon sarcastically said “What else is new?” Greta scrunched her nose at them in bemusement, completely unimpressed with their mid-off.

“Whatever, at least we aren’t using the maps app.” She grumbled and slouched back in the sleigh’s bench.

“Kon has an android so it’s basically the maps app.” Cissie shot at him.

“It’s google maps, dipshit. That’s completely different.” he defended. His choice of phone brand was a controversial topic - and also the main reason they used Discord. 

“Oh yeah gross, I forgot he made our bubbles green.” Greta said in distaste, completely ignoring him.

“It’s nothing personal, but you gotta admit it’s funny when Rob gets huffy about it.” Kon smirked sheepishly. Even if that did get Tim to not talk to him for a month, it wasn’t really a break up if they weren’t together technically, but if they were, he’s almost positive Tim would’ve almost broken up with him over it.

“True.” Cissie agreed at the same time Greta said “Totally worth it.” Yeah, if there was one thing they could all agree on, making Tim huffy - not angry, but just huffy - was fun. Petty Tim Drake was so funny, so sometimes someone would take one for the team when they were bored. It was completely worth it; Tim never disappointed.

“Yeah.” Kon gave a slightly dopey grin “He’s like a lil bird with his feathers puffed up its so ador-”

“Oh my stars, shut up and keep that in the bedroom.” Cissie rolled her eyes. Greta covered her ears childishly, but was grinning at him.

“Like you and Cassie?” Kon shot back and she met him with a challenging look.

“We aren’t dating.” she lamented.

“Neither are me and Tim.” he retorted. Greta sighed.

“It’s times like these that I’m glad I’m ace.”

OoOoO

Being a crimelord, Jason’s seen a lot of things.

He’s put heads in duffle bags just to gain clout, he’s seen shady deals go down, the weirdest drug names in history. Weird rouges that like sticking to slapstick themes. He’s never hesitated in the face of it. Never been deterred, never faltered. He knows how to stay calm and think his way out of situations.

Jason genuinely does not know what to make of this.

Now, he knows, not being at the manor for the holidays he’s spent a lot of not avoiding the festivities, he’s just been busy. December is just a busy month, okay. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that he’s in a rough patch with the family at the moment. He let some of his guys have the day off, because he’s not a monster but that just means he’s gotta pick up the slack. Crimelording doesn’t take a day off, it’s business just as anything else is. He doesn’t even care for the holidays anyway. 

But he doesn’t know what to do about the coal he found in one of his gun compartments instead of a gun when doing his mid-patrol safety checks. At least he thinks it’s coal, it’s a mess of red, brown, and black glitter glue, sparkles, tinsel and paint, and half dried so it made a mess in his holster. 

Just as much as he’s confused, he’s also disconcerted, because he doesn’t remember anyone getting close enough to his person to put this on him and he’d been on patrol for hours - he hasn’t had to pull a weapon - it was a weirdly quiet night, especially for the holiday season, or for any night really, seriously he’s only had to stop like two muggers so far - but when had someone gotten into his stuff?

He must’ve been standing still for a long time while he’s trying to puzzle out the fucked up arts and crafts project that had just mysteriously appeared because he hears a thud behind him and whips around so quickly, his gun already drawn. It’s not Batman, the thud was too noisy and light to be his, but he’s got smaller birds around him who have half a brain cell enough to bother him - read: Nightwing. And he’d be stupid enough to, probably pull some bull about ‘ family being together for the holidays’ or something equally likely to piss Jason off- again, read: Dick Grayson . 

He wasn’t family, not anymore. When would they get that through his head.

Denial is a river in Egypt.

It’s not a bat, but Jason still keeps his gun trained on Harley Quinn as she saunters up to him, like he’s inviting her to a conversation. She looks like she’s about to say something, but her eyes catch the mess of rock and glitter, that is slightly oozing in his other hand and she lights up .

“Guess it’s official, Hood. Congrats!” she squeals, clapping her hands absolutely delighted. Hood raises a brow under his helmet, his confusion increasing.

“You know somethin’ ‘bout this?” he gestures the hand with the rock, still keeping the gun trained on her.

“Oh yeah, it’s like a cute lil status symbol I guess.” she pulls out her own paint goo rock, decorated in her blue and red and pink colours with a shit ton of glitter and tinsel. She grins wider “Yeah, those brats, what’re they called? Hmm… they run with Robin usu-” Jason blanks out after that, because Robin and him, while not antagonistic, they aren’t the best of friends. Bats tended to not put him on cases in the alley, so Jason wouldn’t know for sure but the kid never seemed afraid of him, even when he beating the shit out of him - little shit was egging him if anything during that, which looking back on it was so disconcerting, did the kid have no survival skills or was he just that arrogant? 

Was this some sort of warning? Threat? Reminder? How did he even get close? Was this his way of saying he could? Was it some shitty prank?

“Hood!” Harley snapped her fingers in his face and he flinched back, cocking his gun on reflex. When had she gotten so close? She didn’t seemed threatened, just pouted and crossed her arms “Rude, don’t go ta space when I’m talkin’ t’ya.” 

“What the hell Quinn?!”

“Would ya put the gun down, we both know ya ain’t gonna shoot.” And she was right, but Jason didn’t like that she knew that. Harley was a good asset, since breaking her ties with the Joker, she’d just been reeking havoc, being a minor inconvenience to the Bats and helping Ivy sometimes - Jason could fuck with that, it usually didn’t bother him and she sometimes enforced his rules if she felt like it. She wasn’t exactly an ally but she wasn’t a threat. Jason lowered his gun and gave a grunt, she sauntered over to the air duct to sit down, Jason turned , but didn’t sit next to her. “Jeez, ya know, ye’re kinda like-”

“Don’t” he growled, the modulator making it more menacing and she put her hands up in mock surrender.

“Kay kay, putin the thought away.” she made a gesture like she was zipping her lips and locking it and throwing the key away. She still looked like she was analyzing him, picking him apart. Jason hated that she could probably see right through him - diagnose him.

“What does the rock mean?” he said cutting to the chase, just to get away from the subject - she as probably analyzing that too, but Jason didn’t want to think about it right now, or how much she knew, or how much he was giving away. She seemed to perk back up at the question though, showing off her rock proudly - Jason rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it great! All the non-bad, non-good guys get one. Bad guys just get coal, but we get special coal!” she squeals in absolute delight. “Wish I knew what they were called though, the newer round of baby superheroes, although they don’t seem-”

“Why do they do that?” he asked cutting her off again, she gave him a look before answering.

“Who knows.” she shrugs uncaringly “They’ve always been a bit…odd. Not like the other mini-me superheroes or their teams. This group is a bit lopsided, if ya know what I mean.” she makes a so-so gesture. He doesn’t, but he can guess. The new Teen Titans or Young Justice or whatever they are called are… unorthodox, or so Jason has heard - to be honest he hasn’t heard a lot or bothered to keep tabs. 

Still something bugs him about this.

“They think I’m not bad ?” he asks, quoting Harley’s earlier statement. She cocks her head.

“They don’t think ye’re good either, sweetie.” she says and he shakes his head a bit.

“But they don’t think I’m all bad.” he says, more confused than anything. Them of all people should…hell he doesn’t even know why the pretender doesn't, and weren’t they the one that found his body after Jason beat him black and blue, in their own tower. And he doesn’t know much about the group, but he does know they were really close- like really, really close. They, out of everyone, actually had a pretty good reason to hate him.

“Ya might be like, a crimelord an’ goin’ against Batman an’ shootin’ up placesan’ stuff  but ya protect kids and the girls. Ya ain’t all bad, everyone knows that, ‘specially in Gotham.” she winks at him, then goes weirdly serious for a moment. “Why would ya think that ya weren’t?” she asks almost earnestly, it throws Jason off a bit but he covers it up with a huff. Sometimes - at times like these - her therapist side really shows. And it might be a testament to how good she was at her job because even without half her marbles, Jason still wants to spill to her a little. What the hell was wrong with him tonight?

“I know what I do.” he snaps and then settles a bit at the look she gives him “I’m just confused why they’d think I was good. I beat the shit out of their leader.” and at that Harley bursts out laughing. It’s a little unsettling - probably because of how similar it was to Joker’s, something she couldn’t get rid of just yet. It’s not her fault, but it just reminds him what she used to be, and who she was with. Toxic or not, anything that has to do with that clown will always put him on edge, no mater how well he’s doing mentally.

“Sorry Hood, ye’re tough an’ all but there is no way in hell ya beat up that Wondergirl and lived ta tell the tale.” she giggled and Hood just looked at her like she was crazy. Yeah, no shit he could take on someone trained under Wonder Woman, but like she was just a kid too - he’d like to at least think he’d put up a decent fight. But in any case, he wasn’t even talking about her, so why was Harley bringing her up.

“No…Robin. Their leader?” he asked and then turned more fully to her as something dawned on him “Is Robin not their leader?” he almost couldn’t believe he had to ask. Of course Drake was the leader - there was no way …

“Nah, I don’t think so at least.” Harley settled down her laughing “Confusin right? Usually you Bats are in the lead. Told ya they were an odd bunch.” she said like it amused her. Jason had to readjust somethings in his mind at the new information.

“I’m not a Bat.” he corrected, but the insignia on his chest felt heavier as she pointedly looked at it and snorted. 

“Sure.” she said and then looked out to the sky line. “They are odd, but not a bad batch.” she said almost to herself, like she was defending them against someone that wasn’t there. It seemed like something she’s wanted to say to someone for a while- and when had she even met with them, Harley wasn’t known to keep tabs on every hero or care about the Justice League or their affiliates, so why did it matter so much to her. 

“Huh?” he was even more confused now. It answered none of his questions, in fact it only gave him more. She looked back at him.

“Nah nothin’. Just… people seem ta write them off I guess. Ya know, cuz they’re weird.” she smiles at him, but this time it’s different, more…concerned. It makes Jason concerned too. But Jason doesn’t know what to do with that, seems like Harley doesn’t either. He wants to ask but he doesn’t want to care. Not about a bunch of super brats, and especially not about Tim Drake, not right now at least.

“Young Justice.” he says and then hops on the ledge. Harley looks at him funny. “Ya wanted ta know their name.” he thinks that’s right name at least , she grins.

“Awww, is this the holiday spirit showin’ Hood?” he ignores her and grapples away. She watches him go. 

He tries not to think about why kids are out delivering shitty arts and crafts projects to shitty people in shitty weather instead of being in warm homes with their families watching cheesy Hallmark on Christmas Eve - which they probably celebrate considering they are delivering coal - he’s guessing. He tries not to think about what Harley said, what Harley probably inferred - even if she doesn’t know much about them either. He tries not to think about why he’s out here instead of where he would’ve been before he kicked it.

Whatever, it isn’t his problem.

It’s not.