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Jason Todd knew that rising back from the dead is not something that can be explained by science or natural law. That's a concept he merely knew from a fictional standpoint and was brushed off as mumbo-jumbo, hocus-pocus type of crap. But weird stuff did tend to happen to people in the vigilante business. So when he came back, he mostly shrugged it off as a side effect of being a kid crime-fighter.
He never did quite anticipated the changes that his resurrection may entail.
A day after his monumental dip in Satan's green jacuzzi, Jason started to see things that others weren't able to. Granted he never really had long control over his own senses and consciousness before that eventful night swim, being deep into catatonia and all that, but he was present. He was aware. All of this though; the walking headless man, the crying children, an eyeless cat— Jason's sure, were new.
“He may have awakened a recessive gene of some sort.” Said one doctor who was full of shit. With all of Bruce's fault and mishaps being paranoid, fortunate for this particular instance, is one of them. Jason was pretty certain that if he had any meta gene, recessive or otherwise, he had to have heard about it already.
So, yes. He may not be as normal as he was before he died, but he ain't a meta either.
That being said, Jason ignored all of that. In favor to a much prevalent thought on his head, of course it being his 3 page plot of vengeance and retribution against all that has wronged him.
Talia shared her opinions. Jason ignored them as well.
They hit a compromise, Talia was invested in Jason's newfound ability to see and communicate with the dead; That and other things (that grey man with goat legs don't look like a ghost to him but he ain't tackling that particular can of worms just yet.) And soon enough, Jason was sent packing to a place where they trained wizards.
(“They're not wizards, Jason. Be respectful.”
“Are you sure, T? They look plenty wizard-y to me.”)
Jason was convinced that most of his memory from the All-Caste were sleep-deprived psychosis. At least he got an awesome sword out of it.
Jason's part of said compromise is his departure from the League and back to Gotham.
Talia was reluctant to allow him passage. Tough luck because Jason's going with or without her support, he wasn't exactly there to ask for permission.
Stepping foot into Gotham reminded Jason why this place is called a cesspool of grime and criminality. You see, Gotham has a certain aroma to it. An ambience that you wouldn't mistake for another city. That being the stench of decay mixed with rust, smog, piss and salty sea breeze plus the added hint of despair, depression and ashen dreams. Delightful stuff.
Jason grins. He's home.
.
Bearing the mark of dying and then pulling an uno-reverse card there at the end means that Jason's basically a homing beacon for all of the unavenged spirits in a quarter mile radius. Ain't much he can do with this unforeseen situation other than ignore his unwanted guests. He's got a plan, you see, and it does not involve floating specters of white that smells of three-day old socks stuffed with raw fish and rotten eggs.
But, his efforts has been lacking.
Today marked Jason's supposed first appearance as Red Hood. A quick and short visit in a neutral bar in the middle of an on going territorial pissing contest between two rival gangs. He was supposed to start putting his name out there, make a small but significant ripple in the vast ocean that is Gotham's criminal underworld. Supposedly the name Red Hood would start as whispers, rumors of some challenger for Black Mask's control in the drug trade.
Are you noticing the repeated use of the keyword: Supposed? Good. Because that plan basically crumpled to dust the moment Jason opened his goddamned eyes that morning.
First thing his sleepy brain registered was the awful stench of the dead. Second was the literal ghost lying next to him in bed.
If somebody asked, no. Jason did not scream. There were no trashing. And he did not fell off the bed.
The All Blades materialized on his hand as the sensation of pure evil rippled through his skin.
“What, in the ever loving fuck, are you doing in my bed!”
The ghost was wearing a blue sweater once, Jason thought. Whatever was left of it was dark and tattered, soaked with some black ooze that Jason won't even bother asking what. Their long hair draped all over Jason's bed, thankfully ghosts were not corporeal or else Jason might've needed to burn his mattress to ash with whatever gore and grime they brought in with them.
The ghost, smiled at him with what little teeth was left in their mouth. Some dark liquid dribbled down their chin as their lips stretched open and— you know what, Jason might just burn his warehouse on principal. That is disgusting.
“You can see me.” It's— Their voice was warped and distorted, layered with different cadence and tone. A resulting factor of them existing on the wrong plane.
Jason let the All Blades go, its accompanying warmth embracing him whole as it dematerialized on his hand and returned to his soul. He massaged his temple and regarded the ghost— “What's your name? I can't keep calling you ghost.”
“I am Millie.”
“Millie. Why are in my bed? I could've killed you, or, well, re-killed you.”
The ghost— Millie —blinked at him, all frog-like and creepy. “You can see me.” They answered as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
Jason massaged his temple harder.
“Yes. I can see you, obviously. Now, why are you in my bed?” Jason clarified.
Slowly, as ghosts tended to do, Millie floated away from the bed and stood stockstill beside Jason's wardrobe. An aberrant whine came out of their throat followed by a series of mumbled cry, Jason needed to strain his ears hard to be able to understand just a word.
“It's cold… help me… I can't breathe.”
And so, that's how Jason ended up in Dixon Docks instead of his prior planned reconnaissance. He doesn't own any other attire to hide his identity with ample armor and padding that would settle the bat-trained paranoia so he went out on his Red Hood regalia. Now, in hindsight, maybe that wasn't the best idea but he was annoyed and his plans were getting derailed. So, whatever.
Jason looked down at the dark waters, his own reflection looking back at him.
“You're under there?” He asked Millie who's entire being became more akin to that of an eldritch horror within close proximity of their death place.
Millie's answer was an ear-splitting shriek.
Jason sighed.
He could go about this in two ways. 1: Locate Millie's corpse, salt the body and then burn it. God, Jason's doesn't like option two. Or, 2: Perform an extensive ritual. Look for Millie's living relatives and have them perform a 9-night long litany prayer of forgiveness and acceptance and maybe by then, and here's where it gets tricky, maybe by then Millie's spirit would move on and would follow the light on their own.
You see why Jason holds reservations whenever option 2 is brought up. It's tedious, needs a lot of time and resources, and the result is not even guaranteed.
“How long have you been down here, Millie?” He asks instead. The waters are dreary, just by looking at it Jason knows Millie's not the only victim of it's insidious darkness. Maybe if Jason offers some cleansing in the area then the spirits wouldn't be so disturbed.
“Long.” Surprisingly, Millie's sounded normal. Alive, even. Jason's hands into fists. Millie sounded young, too. “Always cold and dark. I hear my momma sometimes and I try to follow her but I always come back here. It's very cold. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.”
That tangent went on for a few more moments before Millie's voice returned to the screeching abomination he commonly associated with angry spirits.
And, yeah, Jason reckoned that this place being someone's tether to the living realm wasn't fun. This place is more than just simply disturbed. It's haunted. Some cleansing might help but that's like draining the ocean waters; plausible but highly unlikely to work.
His skin rippled once more. It's easy. Summoning the Blades and just pierce through Millie. She wouldn't even feel a thing, she's dead. The ghost of her might scream, she might shout and dissolve into smoke but at least her torment would be gone.
But, he thinks of the young voice wanting to follow their mom and Jason thinks that it might not be Millie's voice he heard.
.
Her name's Melissa Hoover. She went missing three years ago after telling her mom that she'll be visiting a friend. Her mom, Tony Hoover, works as a waitress in some a family-owned restaurant at Tricorner. She didn't have the money and resources to hire any PI to look for her missing baby. Soon, the missing person's case was marked cold and Melissa became part of Gotham's statistics for kids dying before hitting the age of 16.
When Jason knocked on the apartment under Tony Hoover's name, a small, middle-aged woman of caucasian descent opened the door and greeted Jason with a warm smile.
Yeah, Jason's gonna help this poor family alright.
As it turns out, Millie has been haunting her mother for quite some time now. This is a haunting case, not just some minor disturbance. Millie's soul is weary and, because ghosts are specters left behind by their body's emotions, she was angry. However she died, Jason doubt it was peaceful by how her image was being projected into this plane.
A ghost's apparitions reflects it's nature of death.
And, since Millie has been nothing but an amalgamation between inky-tendrils and a human body, Jason would take a leap and conclude that she died pretty fucking painfully.
Convincing Tony that her daughter, Melissa, was haunting her and that's why random household items just moves on their own and why Tony's been getting cold spots proved easy enough. Jason needed to tell her about Melissa's nickname, Millie, and her blue sweater.
“It's her favorite thing, you see.” Tony sniffles around her cup of green tea, no milk just honey and lemon, thank you. “Never wears it out except for special occasions. It was her best friend's birthday, she said it was special enough. So she wore it.”
Jason passed her the tissue box.
“Thank you,” she says as she blows her nose on a thin ply. “I've always thought that she would… she would make it. She's a good girl, my baby. She always did her homework without me asking. So smart. She has straight A's. There were times when I couldn't even believe that Millie came from me. I— look at me. I'm just a waitress who could barely do math beyond the basics. I was so sure she could make it, be better than me.”
Millie was screeching behind her mother, her hair floating on various directions. Her dead pale eyes meet Jason and they were angry.
Jason was sitting on a plastic stool then he was flown away by an invisible force, tumbling backwards into the carpeted floor. Training helped Jason brace himself fast and quickly back on his feet. But, fucking hell! “Motherfucke—.”
Tony was shocked, grasping at her chests as she protectively cradled her mug of tea.
Jason glowers back at Millie. “i'm trying to help!”
Millie hisses, all her remaining teeth coming to view as dark liquid pooled down on her feet.
Tony gasped at the growing wet spot on her carpet. “Wha— what's going on?”
Unbelievable. Millie's asking for help but she got mad because she probably thinks Jason made her mom cry. Jason couldn't blame her, of course he couldn't, but fuck man. He's trying, okay? Ghosts are specters of intense emotions, they could feel what you feel and make you feel what they feel. Not to say that they couldn't be reasoned with because you could, they're creatures of sentience after all. Just that, they could be blinded by unfiltered emotions.
Jason grunts, adjusting his stance to be more open and less guarded. Being thrown off one's chair tended to make them annoyed and angry, so Jason breathes deep, making sure to tell Millie via emotions and body language that he's not threatening.
“Millie.” He calls. “I'm trying to help, okay?” Jason's skin itches, the Blades within boiling and trashing, wanting to be unleashed. He ignores it, in favor of looking at Millie through his helmet. “You're mom isn't mad at me, right, Mrs. Hoover?”
“Millie— my Millie is here?”
Fuck, Jason bites down a witty remark: yes, she's fucking here. Didn't you see her throw me to the floor and that glowing dark puddle in your carpet? Instead, he turns to Tony and nods.
Tony's face crumpled in a series of emotions verging from shock to delight to fear to happiness. Something in Jason shriveled down at the pure joy in her eyes. Jason ignored it.
“Millie? Baby?” Tony says to her wrong side, she's essentially talking to her lamp but Jason didn't butt in. Millie's hair floats down to covering half her face, her feet no longer hovering just above the floor and the puddle disappearing in an instant. Ghost magic shit.
Jason watched as Millie's visage warped from the pale ghost that woke him up this morning to a normal teenage girl, wearing her blue sweater and her skin white but not deathly.
“Momma,” her voice called, shaky and unsure. She reached for Tony's arm and was surprised to see it meet contact. Tony seemed taken aback by the voice and the touch to do much of anything else. She did not need to do much, Millie rushed towards her back and hugged her tight. “Momma!”
Tony turned, forgetting that her hand was holding a ceramic mug. The echoing crash was nothing come to the shared sobbing inside the Hoover's living room. Jason awkwardly itched a spot under his helmet. Aware that he's intruding and witnessing a private moment but also, once he leaves, this moment will stop. It's one of his little souvenir from the other side. A homing beacon and a transmitter.
Tony is whispering all kinds of warm affections, kissing Millie's bead and her arms never leaving her daughter. God, this is painful to watch. Jason's intimately aware of his own parental issues, alright. He's happy for them though. Maybe, that 9-night long prayer won't even be needed if this all works out.
Then because Jason's life is a comedy at this point, Millie let's go of her mother and in a voice as frigid as Antarctica, asked, “why did you kill me?”
Ah, shit.
Jason slammed a gun on Tony's head, her body falling unconscious in the floor.
See, ghosts— they're honest. No matter what they feel, they're honest about it.
“I love her, she loves me, but why did she kill me?” And, the eldritch horror is back.
Ghosts will feel anger towards their murderer, that's natural. Will they feel love for them? In this case, yeah. Tony was still Millie's mother even though she's also the kid's killer. Millie, does and will always love the woman who gave her life and took care of her until she wasn't enough anymore and Tony had let her down. It's also, probably, why she looks the way that she does. That kind of betrayal just stocks with you, you know.
Jason looks down at the woman who looked kind and acted kind and thought: evil really is subjective.
“If you learned why she did it, will you let go?” Jason asked Millie. Because if this was what's tying Millie to this plane; the uncertainty, the confusion, then perhaps having some answers might be the key for her to let go. And Jason need to bring this woman in.
He could kill her?
No. Too early for that stage on his revenge plan. Red Hood's first kill should have a lasting impression. Not that Millie's death wasn't important enough to warrant that, but you know, he can't just kill anyone. Plus, Millie might not approve of him killing her mother.
Decision final, Jason picks up the unconscious woman and hauls her into the kitchen. She tied Tony to a chair with some blankets. Apologies because Jason didn't came here intending to fucking apprehend the mother of the ghost he was trying to help. He's improvising.
“Okay, you,” he points to Millie, “me. Talk. Now.”
.
He didn't learn much beyond some gurgling sounds that would occasionally form words such as: “She killed me.” and a cry of “My momma.” Sometimes, “I'm cold.” Or, a horrid shrilling combination of the three.
“You need to help me, Millie. I can't make assumptions and then have you punt me into the aether and back because you didn't like what I assumed. We're not gonna have that, okay?” A dark goo dribbled down Millie's mouth when she tried to smile. Good thing Jason wasn't naturally squeamish. “Cool. So, here's what we're gonna do.”
First, they're going to wait till Tony gets her bearings back and wake up. Then, Jason will force her to admit to her crimes and have Millie listen. Hopefully, that'll be enough and Millie would choose to move on after. But, if not, then Jason would resort to the hard step and have Tony grovel at Millie's feet for forgiveness. Either way, the end of all this is for Tony to call the GCPD and admit to her crimes so the law can do it's job.
.
“It was an accident.” Tony cries as Jason points a gun to her forehead and have her face Millie's scary appearance. “I didn't mean to, baby, I swear.”
Millie was back to looking alive again, though the red stain on her forehead and the constant oozing blood from the, what Jason could ascertain, killing blow.
“I was just, everything was too much and, and— I just—” Tony's voice isn't making much sense. She's hyperventilating. “—I was tired and mad, and you know how my shift at work gets. I—I didn't mean to, I—”
Jason clocks the gun's muzzle close to her temple. “You didn't mean to kill your own daughter?” Jason scoffs. “I don't need a fucking lie detector to know what you're saying is a load of bull. Say, Tony, were you drunk?”
“SHUT UP! SHUT! UP!” She tried to move from her restraint but didn't you know, Jason graduated from boyscout and he knows how to tie a tight fucking knot. “You don't know anything! You don't know what I've been through— what I did— what I gave up for my daughter —”
“There it is.”
Millie's just looking, no change in appearance or temperament.
Tony on the hand was a weeping mess. “I was— I was just— I was young and didn't know anything when Millie came and, and, she was so small and innocent. I should've left her like what that bastard said but I couldn't. I couldn't. So, I took care of you. You're my baby, Millie. My baby, my sweetheart.”
“It's alright, Jaylad, we can do it again.”
Fuck, now this whole situation is stirring some old and unwanted memories from Jason's long forgotten past.
“I tried. I tried so hard. My work, it's— it's not much. Then, the bills, the fucking house. There was too much— my debt— I. That night— ” Tony is shaking now, full blown hysterical. “That night I was so tired, I just had a double shift and I haven't slept for days because my loansharks were hounding me and— and, Millie, you, she was screaming— she said she wants to go to this friend's birthday and I said no and she got angry and— and I was tired, I got angry too and then I remember, I, I, I was holding something. My head was hurting and you, Millie was screaming— I got so angry I remember thinking I just want to make her quiet. Just this time, make her stop screaming! And I killed her, I hit her with something, I, I don't remember what but there was so much blood and I— I don't want to go to jail, I don't want, so I, I, drove to docks and, and, and. Oh my God! My baby, you're, you're here, my—”
Jason sighs. He held a hand to Tony's shoulder, stilling her shaking shoulders. “That's enough.” Jason chanced a look to Millie. “Millie?”
Millie moved closer. She stretched her hands to hold Tony's tear-stained cheeks. “Momma, I love you.”
And then the dams broke. Tony became and incoherent mess of apologies and wailing.
Jason lowers the gun down. There's no need for that.
“Is there something else you want to know?” He asks Millie, she's looking better already. Granted she's strong enough to control what she wants to look like but she's also not the bubbling rage of ghastly apparition as she was earlier.
Millie shakes her head and leaned close to rest her forehead to Tony's. “Bye, bye momma.”
“Baby, I'm sorry, please… I love you so much, please Millie—”
And Millie was gone.
Tony was back to babbling mess but Jason doesn't have all night and he does want to force his plans back on it's track.
“Alright.” Jason turns her chair forcibly so Tony could look at him. “You will do something for me.”
.
“—according to the authorities, Mrs. Hoover contacted the GCPD this morning, admitting to the murder over the phone. In her confession, she stated that she disposed of Melissa's body at Dixon Docks. While Melissa's remains have never been recovered, police are now focusing their search efforts on the specified location. The motive remains unclear, and investigators are working diligently to piece together the circumstances surrounding —”
Jason stands and turns off his television. Damned vultures worked so fast, Tony Hoover just got arrested all but two hours ago. Jason would know, he was perched on the nearest rooftop while the arrest happened. Just to make sure.
Jason cradled his hot chocolate close, soaking the warmth from his ceramic cup. Old habits die hard, he thinks. Whenever they close a case, him and Bruce would settle in sharing a cup of Alfred's hot chocolate. His doesn't measure to what Alfred's make, though.
God.
First week in and he's already having all this emotions.
Get yourself together, jeez man.
Tonight, he'll have to go back to his plan and learn about the current going-ons of the underworld. Have some clear direction set up and then find a way to establish the name of the all new Red Hood. Once he'll got the lay of the land, then that's the real beginning of the show.
For now, Jason needs to sleep.