"What, are you doing?"

THe boy grimaces, and turns. "Batman."

He swoops down to land beside him. "Batman." He nods. "You are?"

"Jason. Todd."

"What are you doing with the tires of the Batmobile?"

The boy― Jason, shuffles his feet. "I was going to sell them, sir. My family needs money."

He takes a step towards him, nose wrinkled in distaste. "Liar."

"I really was going to sell them."

He pauses. "You broke into the Wayne Mansion without triggering the alarm, got into the Batcave without being seen, for a pair of tires?"

"Well, if you put it that way, then yes."

"I would like you to meet my son, Dick. I'm sure you'll get along fine."

"You mean Robin? Cool."

My name is Jason Peter Todd.

I am nine years old.

I have done something wrong, but was rewarded.

I have no regrets.

"Stop!"

Felipe turns, his face terrified. Then he jumps anyway.

He spins around on Robin and growls. "What happened, Jason?"

The masked boy shrugs, looking unconcerned. "I found him out here."

"And then?"

"He jumped."

Batman stares at him through narrow slits. "For no reason."

"Does it matter? Scum like him deserves to die!"

Batman takes a step closer, pressing Jason back with only his menacing aura. He hates to do this, but sometimes Jason left him no choice. "It does if you pushed him!"

The boy looks away, and mutters, "I guess I spooked him. He slipped."

My name is Jason Peter Todd.

Also known as Robin.

I am ten years old.

I killed someone.

I have no regrets.

"Get down!" He tackles her, knocking her to ground. He draws his cloak up and wraps his arms around her, shielding her.

"Jason? What's going on?" She tries to wriggle out of his hold.

"Mom. Mom! Stop wriggling! I'm trying to help you."

"From what?"

The house explodes, sending shards of wood spraying all over the place. They fly a couple of feet, airlift for a few seconds. Then she crashes into the ground, hard, and Jason's limp body falls on her. She pushes him off with one hand. He tumbles off her without a murmur of protest.

"Jason?" She prods him with a finger. "Jason?"

Batman leaps down towards them, cape billowing. The Batcycle's roar fades away in a distance. "What happened? What happened to Jason?"

"I-I think he's dead." She stutters, and breaks down into sobs.

"Calm down, Shelia. What happened?"

She composes herself. "The Joker," she hiccups "There was a bomb and then, and then-" she breaks down again. "He tried to protect me. Before he died. He was trying to protect me."

My name is Jason Peter Todd.

Also known as Robin.

I am eleven years old.

I died protecting the person who betrayed me.

I have no regrets.

"What are you going to do now?"

The guy stares out at Gotham City, an unreadable expression on his face. "I'm going to hunt down every villain in town."

"And then?"

His hand tightens on staff almost imperceptibly. "I kill them."

His lips curl into a smile. "I like that."

"Of course you do."

He leans back. "And if I offered to help?"

He nods. "How much would you want?"

"Just the bodies of three people. Bruce Wayne. Dick Grayson. Tim Drake."

He nods again. "Done."

"You would kill your own comrades for the people of Gotham, Jason Todd?"

He turns, finally facing him. "I would do anything." He pulls on a red mask. "And it's Red Hood."

My name is Jason Peter Todd.

Also known as Red Hood.

I am thirteen years old.

I will kill my old friends.

I have no regrets.

Jason straddles him, securing the ropes around his arms. Tim twists his arms in a meager attempt to untie the knots. But no matter which way he twists, his hands fall short. Damn Jason.

He laughs. "Don't bother." He leans forward conspiratorially. "You've gotten better, Tim. But not good enough."

He twists around in a vain attempt to wriggle out of the ropes , flopping like an fish. He growls at the familiar face. "Batman would be good enough. Nightwing would be good enough."

"Yeah, but they're not here right now, are they?"

Tim finally stops his flopping-er, attempts to escape. He goes quiet. "What happened, Jason?"

"Just now? I kicked your ass."

"No. How did you become this?"

"Because I chose to. I'm tired of being good. What's the point of catching villains if they get away and destroy more people's lives?"

"Because that's what makes us diffrent from them. They kill because of hate. We don't." He wrinkles his nose. "Or at least I do."

"Shut up!" He draws back his leg and kicks him. "I'm nothing like the Joker. I'm not a homicidal maniac. I don't kill people! I-" he halts suddenly.

My name is Jason Peter Todd.

Also known as Red Hood.

I am fifteen years old.

I have beaten up my ex-best friend.

I regret it.