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College was always a brilliant idea. It opened doors to innovation and discovery that you wouldn’t even think were possible. These institutions have given way to so much of the known world and continue to do so. There were so many people in the world who would kill for the opportunity to enter top universities or even to have a crack at what college could offer.
Jason was no stranger to being reminded how important education was for anything, really. Well, it was really more of him reminding himself that even when his family could no longer afford to send him to school. He remembered the envy that bubbled deep inside him seeing those Gotham Academy kids with their freshly pressed uniforms and hardcover textbooks. He remembered his endless hours in Gotham Library, getting lost in weathered textbooks just for a semblance of normalcy in his chaotic childhood. He remembered how, at some point in his life, he would’ve killed for any opportunity to reach college.
Now, however, he deeply regretted even enrolling in the first place.
Jason lived in a humble apartment in Crime Alley. It was small enough not to rouse suspicion from local gangs, rogues, or even the Bats, but he had standards. Unfortunately, living in one of the most prestigious estates in Gotham had rubbed off on him. Jason had the usual luxuries of modern times: cable TV (though he rarely used it), a laptop, a smartphone, and some damn good internet. Sometimes, it scared him just how fast the internet he had in his humble abode was; it wasn’t just “download a 30 GB game in under thirty minutes” fast but it teetered on “Tim Drake could hack governments’ databases in under thirty minutes” fast. Maybe, that was an understatement; the new Robin could and would hack into at least five governments’ databases with mobile data and a dream.
Despite the speedy Wi-Fi he had, what greeted him when loading Gotham U’s enlistment page was a blank white webpage.
Jason checked his watch and maybe even glanced at the window. It was, in fact, day time at a bright and early nine in the morning. He checked his Google Calendar. Yes, the date was right and so was the time. He logged on to the site three minutes early and hit F5 to refresh it once the clock struck 9 AM. He checked the official Gotham University calendar, and yes, enlistment was today. He wasn’t in the wrong.
So, why the absolute fuck was the site a blank webpage?
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. For how sucky Bruce was as a parent (and maybe even as a person), he did teach some useful things like breathing exercises to calm the pulse. Jason’s patience was by no means saintly, and he knew that. He knew that he had a short fuse, and goddammit, he was working on it. There were just times that his temper flared up quicker than he wanted, and those times may or may not constitute a blank white screen, a loading webpage, and the panic of not getting the classes he both wanted and needed.
Whether or not he’d openly admit it, Jason’s Robin training (and by a begrudging extension Batman’s training) taught him to prepare meticulously. This meant contingency after contingency—preparing for every conceivable outcome possible and maybe even the impossible. It also meant to think quickly on one’s feet, coming up with a plan in barely a moment’s notice and Jason did that! He opened Google Sheets and everything. He had a timetable ready for Christ’s sake! He’d even stayed up an extra hour a couple nights ago after a particularly hectic operation to come up with backups for his backups. But what the hell were all those contingencies for if you can’t even put to motion your original plan? What was Jason supposed to do? Take a spot in the registrar and enlist himself from the admin side? Storm into Gotham U’s registrar? No, that would be a terrible idea. As much Jason did have oh so many regrets about going to college right now, he definitely didn’t want to be expelled anytime soon.
So, Jason stared at this blank screen that stared at him right back. The little loading circle spun for so many rotations, and after each rotation, Jason could feel his own fuse slowly inch its way towards blowing up. Another deep breath. A broken laptop was no use to anyone. Another extremely deep breath. A broken router was no use to anyone, especially to Jason who still had a drug bust and a meeting in the evening. One more deep breath for good measure. He only shot people who deserved it, only busted the kneecaps of those who really had it coming, and only knocked a couple of teeth out of those who really needed a dentist appointment.
Jason almost leapt out of his couch when the loading circle turned into a small ‘x’. He gripped his laptop so hard, the screen threatened to crack under the pressure of his fingers. He waited for a good while before the site’s login page final-fucking-ly flashed, and he had never logged in faster in his entire life. He certainly did not input his own access codes to the manor this fast, and he didn’t even input his safe codes to his armory this fast during his whole “establishing the Red Hood as a force to be reckoned with” phase.
He waited again. The login page turned into another blank white screen. Jason could feel the pit forming inside his stomach. His palms were clammy, and when did it get so hot in his apartment? He stood up, quickly opening a window, one eye still on the blank webpage on his laptop. The cold breeze was a welcome change, but Jason was not risking taking his eye off his screen.
The website loaded, finally.
The laptop almost launched across the room, Jason hurriedly dragged his finger across the mousepad and clicked Enlist in Class with such fervor, the mousepad would’ve broken if he wasn’t mindful not to break his civilian laptop. Fuck the terms and conditions that he’d read only once in his life. Jason needed to enlist in a total of seven classes, and by god there were no terms and conditions stopping him from getting the schedule and professors he wanted.
Enlisting barely took five minutes. Jason was shaking ever so slightly, his finger slipping from the mousepad every now and then. He could hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his head. His eyes darted from class to class, button to button, ensuring that he was, in fact, enlisting in the right classes. He’d never pressed Ctrl+Tab so much in his life—switching from his desired timetable and the enlistment site. It was all just one button away, one click away and he could be done with the entire process and focus on vigilante duties. There was a sense of triumph in him as he did one last look on the schedule displayed before he clicked Confirm Enlistment.
The site loaded. A blank white screen appeared once more.
YOUR REQUEST CANNOT BE PROCESSED AT THE MOMENT. PLEASE CONTACT THE OFFICE OF THE REGISTRAR.
Dying felt better than that.
Jason’s heart dropped all the way into hell. His eyes read those words over and over again before he gathered himself to refresh the page. A little banner popped up and asked if he would like to resubmit the form again, and screw everything! He’d enlist in all his classes again with lightning speed, the Flash (all iterations) would be jealous.
502 BAD GATEWAY
Jason would rather feel the numbing pain on his fingers as he dug himself out of his own grave than read those words again.
“Fuck off!” Jason almost, almost screamed at the top of his lungs.
A broken laptop was of no use to anyone. It was like a mantra at this point. A broken router was of no use to one of Gotham’s most prominent crime lords, and he most certainly did not want to go to any of the Bats (save for Oracle) to fix his internet problem. This problem, however, he was almost tempted to go to Tim or even Babs, but what would he even ask? He didn’t tell anyone about him enrolling into college, and he most certainly did not want anyone even remotely related to Batman to know he’d enrolled into Gotham U. This was fine. He can solve this himself. If he could dig himself out of his own grave, broken fingernails and bloodied fingertips, he could enlist himself into seven college classes.
This was fine.
“Okay, just refresh the page,” Jason murmured as if talking to himself would solve his problems.
F5 was pressed, the site loaded, and for a brief moment, Jason felt hope he hadn’t felt in such a long time. It was that kind of stupid stubborn hope that blossomed in your chest even in the face of adversity. It was the kind of hope he was sure only existed in Superman as he faced Darkseid. It was the kind of hope that a victim of an alleyway mugging would feel when Batman and Robin dropped from the shadows to beat the absolute shit out of the muggers.
However, this was the kind of hope that was to be crushed, obliterated into dust so easily and quickly.
502 BAD GATEWAY
A. Broken. Laptop. Was. Of. No. Use. To. Anybody.
A. Broken. Router. Was. Of. No. Use. To. Anybody.
Jason should leave well enough alone. He should learn to walk away from things that distress him and tell himself there was always a next time. Enlistment spanned from 9 AM to 12 NN. He had plenty of time to enlist in the day. There was even a free-for-all enlistment from 6 PM to 11:59 PM. There was so much time in the day to enlist, but Jason was stubborn. He was stupidly stubborn and could not leave well enough alone. He was raised (begrudgingly) with such fierce determination that another 502 BAD GATEWAY was not going to deter him from getting the schedule he wanted goddammit. He was a vigilante, a dude with an interesting nightlife—he needed to avoid night classes as much as he could.
After another round of breathing exercises and about ten presses of F5 to no avail, Jason left his laptop on the coffee table and got up. He needed to stretch his legs was all. They were falling asleep, and pins and needles were not something he wanted to add to his growing lists of annoyances in the day. It was definitely not because if he refreshed the site one more damned time and it was still 502 BAD GATEWAY, he would actually break something. Definitely not.
Jason walked the perimeter of his apartment, opening one more window to let more air in. Let it be known that Gotham air was most likely filled with extremely harmful pathogens with the constant Arkham breakouts, Scarecrow and his addiction to airborne threats, and the general pollution that rid the city—nevermind the Joker Venom, now that was something Jason would rather not think about too long. It was nice, however, to feel the cool air against his skin. It was like a reprieve from circling back to his laptop and hitting F5 again.
“Huh,” Jason was just short of laughing.
He felt the hysteria mix with the anger and annoyance that bubbled inside him. Were the gods joking right now? His lips twitched upward into a horrifying mockery of a smile that never reached his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging ever so slightly to somehow ground him into whatever sick reality he landed himself into.
503 SERVICE UNAVAILABLE
Jason just couldn’t catch a damned break.
It was funny. It really was to the point he slowly clocked himself laughing. At what? He didn’t really know at this point. Was it the fact that the error had transformed from 502 to 503? Was it the fact that he’d paid his third tuition installment, which was not cheap, to get a website that didn’t even work? Was he laughing at his own misery?
His sanity hung on an extremely loose and thin thread. Well, death, resurrection, and the Lazarus Pit would do that, but add the fact that he was most likely to get a night class now, and he already felt the threads of his sanity slowly snap. Really, the only good thing that came out of the transition of 502 BAD GATEWAY to 503 SERVICE UNAVAILABLE was that Jason hit F5 in three minute intervals instead of three second ones.
The site loaded for more than one second, and Jason kept his eyes glued to the screen. His fingers drummed the edge of the laptop, a blank white screen still staring right back at him. He waited, limbs jittery, and palms sweaty. Then the impossible became possible.
Jason’s hands moved before he could even process the login page loading into fruition. He was pretty sure he typed faster than earlier, and he was pretty sure he could tap into the Speed Force just by how fast he typed his password. He waited again, eyes wide with anticipation, and patience exhausted. By god, the site loaded.
He clicked through the tabs, going through the motions of enlisting again as if it were some drill or routine he practiced. This time, however, he changed his strategy. He went for the more competitive classes first and breathed such a big sigh of relief when he saw that the classes he wanted still had slots. His cursor hovered over the Enlist in Class button, but instead of his schedule being filled out, he was only met with disappointment.
YOU MUST ENLIST IN YOUR MAJORS FIRST. YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO ENLIST IN OTHER CLASSES UNTIL ALL YOUR MAJORS HAVE BEEN ENLISTED.
Okay, Jason could do that. He could do that mighty fast since there were only a handful of teachers in the pool of major classes he needed. He switched tabs to his desired timetable and began enlisting once more. He learned from last time (read: a few minutes ago), and once he selected his desired class for one major, he clicked Confirm Enlistment before proceeding to enlist in other classes.
The site loaded. Jason held his breath as the screen flashed back into white. He probably couldn’t stare at any loading screen for a couple weeks without losing his temper, but we all have to make sacrifices at some point.
Jason soon decided that he’d made enough sacrifices by this point.
YOUR REQUEST CANNOT BE PROCESSED AT THIS TIME. PLEASE CONTACT THE OFFICE OF THE REGISTRAR.
Jason groaned into his hands, throwing his head back, “Okay. Someone has to be fucking with me!”
But who? The rational, almost calm, side of his brain asked, and they had a point. Who would even mess with Jason in such a trivial and unfunny way? Tim had his hands full with whatever a kid his age concerned himself with other than being Batman’s partner in vigilantism. Babs had her own hands full with Bat and Birds of Prey stuff. Did any of the JL figure out that he was Red Hood, and in some twisted way of revenge, decided to mess up his college enlistment?
Jason shook his head as if he were a snow globe that needed some form of cajoling to reset himself. No, those ideas were ridiculous but not impossible. No one else knew of his little sidequest into tertiary education. Okay, maybe Babs already knew through some way, but she didn’t really count. Again, even if it was some twisted prank, it was just downright cruel and petty. At least, when Dick pulled pranks on him, they were funny in hindsight. All this was just opening another circle in hell.
The rage and anger that previously boiled his blood was reduced to a quiet simmer. He still huffed and puffed like he belonged to a fable, but he didn’t quite have the urge to break his laptop or router anymore. Instead, his finger hovered over the F5 key, pondering if it was even worth it to refresh the page. Still, there was that stubborn hope that bloomed inside him.
Maybe, just maybe, it was a side effect of the vigilante life, to have that sense of hope that maybe on the next patrol things would be different. It reminded him too much of being Robin, too much that he tried desperately not to let the train leave the station with that thought. He tightened his fists, clutching hard at the edge of the laptop. His jaw tensed as he tried so desperately to not have his chest flutter with stubborn hope. Hope that emerged whenever he’d put on those traffic light colors, going out and earnestly trying to make a change in the world.
That hope never did leave him in the end, even when he was stuck in that warehouse with his mom who’d betrayed him. It never left him even when he clawed his way out of his grave, looking for his family, even in the face of the world moving on without him. Not once did the flame flicker even when he began plotting his big return to Gotham, looking Batman right in the eye as his voice broke, “Because he took me away from you.”
Jason rubbed his hand over the raised skin where a batarang had sliced open his skin. He saw his brows furrow and his lips downturned in a frown as his laptop screen blanked into his screensaver. He shook his head and took another deep breath. It was a thought process for another day, and right now, he was concerned about pressing the F5 key once more.
504 GATEWAY TIMEOUT
He laughed. It bounced off the walls and echoed through his empty apartment. It was devoid of any real amusement, only filled with such a deep sense of irony, it rivaled Batman’s deep seated sense of justice and his penchant for giving his Rogue Gallery their equivalents of slaps on the wrist. Jason laughed until it devolved into a pathetic mix of laughter and noises just shy of sobbing. He drew out a shaky breath and finally placed the laptop back on the coffee table, allowing it to go to its screensaver.
It was only ten in the morning. The day was still young, and well, Jason still had a civilian life he could step into to distract himself. He sighed, giving one last longing look at the blank screen of his laptop before heading into the bathroom for a much needed long shower.
—
The grapple line didn’t connect to anything. The ground was fast approaching, wind rushing up Jason’s leather jacket, almost as if it would serve as a parachute to cushion his rapid and most likely painful descent into hard asphalt. It took an embarrassing amount of time before Jason fiddled around with the grapple gun still firmly clutched in his hand and aimed it at an actual ledge instead of a phantom one.
Gravel crunched underneath the thick heavy soles of boots followed by a softer crunch as Jason rolled onto the roof. It was a safety precaution, one Batman drilled into his head whenever he was unsure about his landing. Really, when it all came down to it, screw Batman and that stick shoved up his ass to come up with safety precautions like that. It did, however, feel exceedingly nice to roll onto the graveled rooftop and just lay there. Jason was sprawled out like a starfish, gaze firmly fixed onto the smog polluted un-starry night sky above him.
Red Hood patrolled much later in the night. Actually, come to think of it, Red Hood patrolled so much later in the night, the Bats would be turning in an hour or two after he started his patrol. Tonight, however, Jason needed a change of pace, a timeout if you will. An unconscious and extremely loud sigh escaped him, translated into a garbled mechanized noise by the helmet. Still on the ground, much like a starfish on the ocean floor, Jason pulled out his phone. He should’ve probably stopped by a cafe or somewhere with internet for this, but the rooftops were comforting for him—nevermind why they were comforting for him.
Free-for-all enlistment was already delayed by an extra two hours as per Gotham University’s last announcement and email regarding the whole enlistment debacle. It was something about the server not being able to handle the sheer volume of enlisting students; whatever it was, Jason was already tempted to either contact Babs (or, begrudgingly, Tim) to improve the shitty twenty-year old school website to actually handle the expected traffic and more. His finger hovered over both their contacts until he chickened opted out and chose to just deal with it.
A gunshot pierced through the air.
Now that Jason really thought about it and tuned back into his surroundings, he remembered hearing the faint sounds of a struggle no less than two blocks away. He shot up and shuffled over to the edge of the rooftop, peering into the adjacent alley—dark, damp, and the perfect scene for whatever illegal activities warranted a gunshot.
Three figures stood at the end and only entrance of the alley. Their shadows loomed and stretched over worn concrete and darkened brick, silhouettes standing menacingly tall over the poor soul they’d managed to corner. Jason’s eyes followed the tall shadows and landed on an all-too-familiar figure. Really, if he didn’t recognize the traffic light colors, his death might have rattled him more than he thought. Robin clutched his side, the faintest bit of red staining his green gauntlets. Jason narrowed in on the injured bird. He only seemed grazed by the bullet and didn’t actually have a piece of metal embedded inside of him. At least, in one way, someone was having a worse day than him.
An alert popped up in the HUD of Jason’s helmet: FREE-FOR-ALL ENLISTMENT IN 10 MINUTES. Thank the gods for Google Calendar and their timely reminders. Jason’s eyes, however, drifted away from the GCal pop-up back into the alley. The three figures were closing in on Robin, but the kid, to his credit, stood his ground, despite one arm acting as a makeshift bandage. His free arm held tightly on the metal bo staff—not like he could do much damage with a gaping wound and only one free hand against three armed assailants, one of which already shot at the traffic light colored bird. Nevertheless, Robins were known for putting up a fight, and hey, maybe the kid already called for the Big Bat. There was no need for Jason to step in.
Another shot rippled through the air.
It missed Tim by a hair. He barely got out of the way as the bullet rushed through the air and landed right in the brick wall behind him. There was not much room for dodging to begin with. FREE-FOR-ALL ENLISTMENT IN 5 MINUTES. Jason remained crouched behind the ledge of the roof. He looked around the adjacent rooftops for any other vigilante that wore a bat or a bird symbol. The Bat-signal wasn’t even on. There was no way something else more important than an injured Robin took up Batman’s time—no matter how hard it was for Jason to properly believe that. Boots scraped against worn down concrete. Muffled conversation rang through the air. Jason looked around again, but there was no one else but him.
Five minutes until enlistment. Jason didn’t want to get stuck with night classes or shitty professors. He’d heard that Batman sent Tim away to Paris or some other place for training. He’d heard Tim trained under Lady Shiva herself and was an absolute beast with his staff. Robin could handle himself. Robin was more than just a sidekick to Batman and was a vigilante in his own right, who could hold his own against three goons.
The gun was raised again.
Robin wouldn’t be able to dodge at point blank range.
A gunshot ripped through the air once more.
Jason landed with a loud thud, gun pointed at the goon on the ground, clutching his leg. The other two stood there for a good moment, eyes wide as the bright red helmet came into full view. Jason drew himself up to his full height, easily towering over all three goons. The one with a gaping wound in his thigh reached for his gun, only to find it skittering across the concrete into the dead-end of the alley.
“We were just trying to do you a favor, Hood!” One of the goons reasoned. “We know how much you hate the Bats!”
Jason tilted his head, “Does that look like a bat to you? Last time I checked,” he motioned towards Robin, “that’s a traffic light colored vigilante. Not a bat.”
No one spoke. Everyone stood still, waiting for anyone to break the suffocating stand-still the confrontation had gotten to. Jason walked to the group, gun still trained on all of them. He knelt, meeting the petrified stare of the one with the gaping wound. The poor thing flinched back so violently, a cry of pain echoed through the alley.
“Scram.”
And they did. The two uninjured ones scrambled to hoist their injured friend and rushed out of the alley. Jason didn’t leave his spot near the mouth of the alley, listening as the pitter patter of boots scurried and faded away. He turned to Robin, arm still clutched at his side, but with a more defiant gleam in the white lenses than earlier. Jason rolled his eyes and prepared for the back-and-forth about to ensue.
“I had that,” Tim huffed. “You didn’t need to step in.”
Jason groaned, “Oh, can it, will you, birdie? You were about to be target practice, just be thankful I was in the area.”
Jason checked the clock in his helmet’s HUD. He stifled a groan and a sigh. A total of ten minutes passed since enlistment began—not to mention, signal was ass in the alleys of the worse parts of Gotham. For all the money Bruce Wayne pumped into the city, you would think they would be able to afford better cell service. Jason’s gaze shifted to the still very much injured kid in front of him. He let out a sigh and motioned for the kid to follow him.
“Come on,” Jason got out his grapple, “let’s get you fixed up before you die of sepsis.”
Tim raised his arms, only to wince in pain as the pressure disappeared from his wound. Jason got a good look at the blood-soaked uniform and cringed internally. He thought it was a small wound, and it should’ve been if Tim only got grazed by a bullet. What other injuries was this kid hiding?
“You’re being overdramatic,” Tim protested. “I’m fine.”
“Sure,” Jason fired his grapple, “I, on the other hand, won’t be fine if Dick finds out you’re injured in my territory.”
Through some miracle, Tim got his own grapple and fired. Jason let out a small chuckle as the kid hoisted himself up first as if that was enough to support his I’m fine hypothesis. He met Tim up on the rooftop, assessed his wound, and did some quick first aid with the kit Batman always placed in every Robin’s suit. A fact Jason was sure Tim was not made aware of, or the kid was a little shit who ignored Batman’s directive on first aid. Then again, what Robin hasn’t? Jason died for god sake. Wasn’t that enough proof?
Jason should leave well enough alone. Once he finished dressing Tim’s wound, there was no reason to hang around—hell, there was no reason for small talk even. The two were colleagues at best. This was all strictly professional. Tim was an old enough kid to a) be let around as a traffic light colored vigilante, b) know where the emergency first aid kit in his utility belt was, and most importantly, c) get back to Batman in one piece.
So, why was there an annoying little voice inside him telling him to keep an eye on the kid? To hang around just to make sure the little bird would be, well, alive?
A very tired sigh escaped Jason. He got up, eyes still trained on the kid. Tim didn’t move as if the blank stare of his helmet was enough to keep him pinned in a singular place. Jason held out a hand.
“C’mon, kid,” Jason turned off his modulator. “You hungry?”
The whites in Tim’s domino widened, “Huh?”
Jason tilted his head, “One time offer, kid. I don’t have all night.”
“I—Well—I,” Tim stammered but took Jason’s hand and jumped up to his feet, “Yeah, sure, I could eat. Um, where?
Jason shrugged and just told the kid to follow him, “Say, what do you know about upgrading websites covertly?”
Maybe they’d stop by a Batburger or if Jason’s feeling particularly generous and antsy, he’d make the kid something homemade. He had a couple of non-descript safehouses around, and the cooking would do good to keep his mind off enlisting and the night classes he’d have to juggle with a growing criminal empire. Not to mention Tim wasn’t necessarily bad company, anyway, so long as Batman didn’t come stalking after him.
As Jason and Tim grappled through Gotham’s skyline in comfortable silence, an unread email sent the time Jason went out to patrol lie unread in his inbox. It read:
Subject: [ADJUSTED ENLISTMENT SCHEDULE]
To all currently enrolled Undergraduate Students of Gotham University, due to the temporary shutdown of the Gotham University’s enlistment website earlier today, enlistment has been moved.
Please access the memo regarding the ADJUSTED ENLISTMENT SCHEDULE here.
We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience and understanding as we continue to troubleshoot and maintain the system.
For any concerns and questions, please email IT support at [email protected].