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Bruce returned to the Cave, head spinning. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the events that had transpired. From gaining confirmation that Jason- his son - was the crime lord known as the Red Hood, to having to fight him, to the ultimatum Jason had given him, to the aftermath.
Oh god. What did I do?
And now, Jason was likely dead again. How could he have survived the collapse of the building? He and the Joker had gotten lucky, they had been further away from the heart of the damage. But Jason? He took the brunt of the blast. He had to have been buried under a couple tons of rubble, let alone what the actual explosion had done to him.
Oh god. What have I done?
Bruce’s body armor had protected him from serious damage, both during his fight with Jason as well as the explosion, but he knew he would be sore whenever he woke up. The Joker had multiple broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a broken humerus, and a shattered pelvis. Bruce was unsure what was from the blast and what was from… before. The Joker was battered even before Jason brought the three of them together.
All I wanted was to bring him home. What have I done?
As he exited the Batmobile, he saw Dick, Tim and Alfred anxiously waiting for him.
Dick stepped forward. “Well Bruce? Was it Jason?”
Bruce couldn’t speak, the words just caught in his throat. He walked past all of them and collapsed into his chair in front of the computer.
What have I done?
“Bruce!” Dick again. “Bruce, did you find Jason?”
Still not able to speak, Bruce just nodded.
Alfred gasped. Dick bobbed up and down with nervous energy. Tim staggered backwards.
“Master Bruce, where is Master Jason?”
What have I done?
Alfred always had a soft spot for Jason. They had a rough start born of misunderstandings, but they soon became incredibly close. Jason loved helping Alfred with his various tasks around the house, especially cooking. Jason loved cooking with Alfred. Alfred loved having Jason’s help. And now… Alfred was hoping to have him back. He wanted his grandson back.
What have I done?
Bruce let out a dry sob. “Bruce?” It was Tim speaking now, softly putting a hand on his shoulder. “What happened?”
Bruce knew that he had to start talking. He had to, or he’d never be able to talk about tonight. And these three, his allies, his family, they had the right to know.
“Jason was the Red Hood.”
Was. Because he no longer is .
“We fought. He led the fight into an abandoned apartment complex. He had stashed the Joker in a room in one of the apartments.”
The pain in Jason’s eyes when he brought out the Joker was near unbearable. The fact that he was left alive when Jason was dead must have been, to him, a betrayal of the highest order.
“Jason brought out the Joker. He offered me an ultimatum. He would shoot the Joker, and I would have to shoot him to stop him.”
Bruce couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the others when he said this. He knew that by now, they would have seen that the Joker had been returned to Arkham. Alive. Severely injured, but still alive.
Alfred let choked sob. Bruce finally looked up. Tim and Dick were aghast, mouths open in shock. Alfred- oh god, I’m so sorry Alfred- was full of sorrow. He knew this story could never have a happy ending.
“Master Bruce, what did you do?”
“He was- I couldn’t let him kill the Joker. I threw a Batarang. It lodged in the barrel of his gun as he fired.”
What have I done?
Dick cut in, saving Alfred from asking the questions that were slowly breaking his heart. “There was an explosion where you were. What caused it?”
“Jason had planted explosives in the building, likely a last-case scenario in case I didn’t show. After his gun misfired, he fell, and the detonator came out of his pocket.” Bruce winced at the memory, but continued, “The Joker grabbed it and pressed the trigger. The building collapsed.”
By now, Dick and Tim had caught on to how this story would end. But yet, they still had questions need were unanswered.
Dick stepped up to ask, “After the building collapsed, what happened? What did you do?”
Bruce could hear the unasked question: “ Did you try to get to Jason? ”
But to answer the question Dick actually asked… “I saw the Joker half-buried underneath some rubble. I dug him out, and took him to Arkham.”
What have I done?
Alfred, still with a face full of indescribable sorrow, turned and walked away, out of the cave, likely to a secluded corner of the Manor to mourn for the boy he had loved as a grandson.
Bruce could tell Dick already knew the answer to his next question, but he asked it anyway. “After you took the Joker to Arkham, did you go back to look for Jason, or did you just give up on him?”
What have I done?
Bruce didn’t want to answer, but he knew he had to. “No. I came back here.”
Dick whispered his next question: “Why?”
Bruce was silent.
“Why?” Dick yelled now. “Why did you attack him? Why did you abandon him? Why did you place the wellbeing of the Joker over that of your son ?”
Bruce couldn’t answer.
“ANSWER ME BRUCE!” Dick was screaming now. “WHY? WHY?” Dick was crying. “How could you just leave him? Why?”
“I don’t… I don’t know”
What have I done?
“YOU DON’T KNOW?” Dick was angry again. “THAT’S NOT A GOOD ENOUGH ANSWER, BRUCE!”
“I PANICKED, OKAY!” Bruce’s emotions were beginning to overwhelm him. “I panicked. I panicked, and I left my son for dead.”
Bruce was in tears now. “Oh god, I hurt Jason. Oh god, what have I done? What have I done?”
Bruce felt Dick wrap him in a hug. “I don’t know, B. I don’t know. It’s going to be okay. Not now, not anytime soon, but eventually, it’s going to be okay.”
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Bruce repeated that mantra to himself everyday, until he saw the headline:
ROY HARPER ESCAPE FROM QUARACI PRISON AIDED BY RED HOOD
Jason was alive.