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Chapter Text

Once Roy was off Kori's ship, he made a beeline to the zeta tubes. They had already exchanged their goodbyes, and no repairs were required on the ship. Luckily, neither of them were injured either. Their mission had been simple, but it was off world. It almost didn't seem worth it to travel thousands of miles just to do something he could have done in his sleep.

He wanted to see his Jaybird. It had been weeks since they had least seen each other at all, and it was nearly impossible to communicate with each other from different planets. Jason had told him his plans for the duration of his mission, and he was supposedly still in Gotham, working with his family in fact. A month ago, Tim had asked him to help out with a long operation tracking the path of a new drug that had been introduced to the city and making its way around the alleyways.

Roy took the zeta tube straight to the Batcave, a smile stretched across his face. A lot of people were there, but he hadn't seen his boyfriend yet.

"Roy?" Dick looked up, standing to greet him. 

"Hey, Dick. Have you seen Jay? I just got back."

His face visibly tightened as if he was in pain, but he was not the one to respond to him. No, that honor went to the youngest Wayne.

"Tt, no. Todd left us weeks ago."

Roy's smile faltered. "What do you mean? He said he would be working with you guys."

"That's what we thought to." Damian scoffed. "I'm not surprised that the imbecile ran away."

Bruce silenced him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Jason was supposed to come help us weeks ago, but he hasn't come yet."

"But you looked for him, right?"

Tim shook his head. "What's the point in doing that? He disappears all the time."

"He'll be back when he wants to." Dick agreed.

Roy shook his head, trying to clear his head of the thoughts that were suddenly bombarding him. Jason wouldn't disappear like that, not after he told Roy where he would be and when he would be there. Something must have happened, and it couldn't be anything good.

The other Bats had gone back to talking to each other in the minutes he had been silent. Roy couldn't help but listen to what they were saying, something about the drugs being dealt most heavily around Crime Alley and the Narrows, and that made him want to grab someone and shake them. Would Jason disappear and let someone fill his territory with drugs?

"Did he take his equipment with him at least?" Roy asked.

Stephanie looked up in surprise, barely hearing his words. "What?"

"Did he take his equipment out of his safe house?"

The Bats looked at each other in discomfort, and Roy could just tell that he wasn't going to like the answer that came out of any of their mouths.

Dick bit his lip. "We don't...know."

"What do you mean 'you don't know?'" His eyes gained a fierce fire to them, one that threatened to burn holes straight through the people in front of him. He paused for a moment, coming to his new conclusion. "You...you didn't even check his safe house, did you?"

Damian spoke up first again, always quick to defend his father and himself. "We are not his babysitters."

"And you don't think that him just disappearing out of no where was at least a little suspicious?"

Tim looked uncomfortable at the notion that his older brother could be in danger, and they hadn't bothered to check. "I mean....it is Jason, Roy."

"Who gives a fuck who it is? Vanishing into thin air isn't a good thing!" Roy ran both hands through his hair and pulled at the ends, pacing the room from end to end. "Besides, Jason wouldn't do this."

Bruce didn't stay at the edges of the scene anymore. "He has before."

"Yeah, well, I know him a lot better than any of you, okay? So when I say it's weird, it's weird!"

He narrowed his eyes. "I am his father."

"And I'm his motherfucking boyfriend! And you barely knew Jason when he was a child, let alone now. Face it, guys, but Jason is very different from how you perceive him." Roy marched right up to the Bat and into his personal space.

If they knew Jason at all, they wouldn't be in this situation. The Bats would have realized that something was weird, and they would have looked for him. Even if he turns up just peaches, he would at least know that they cared enough to try to find out where he disappeared off to.

Upon Bruce's return to silence, he made a small sound of disgust. "I'm going to go check out our safe house."

"Tell me what you find!" Dick called out. "I'm...sorry I didn't think to look."

Roy, who had made it to the motorbike he had left, turned back with a sneer. "I'm not the one you should be sorry to!"

While preparing to leave, he heard a few more comments from the Bats that he couldn't care enough to respond to. From, "everything is okay" to "this is what Todd always does," he knew that nothing but solid proof would get through their painfully thick skulls. Because everything was not okay, and that was why he was pissed. They didn't bother to follow up with Jason at all! Missing one day might seem innocent, but he had been gone for nearly a month at this point.

He walked towards the apartment complex they lived in, noting that their mailbox was overflowing. Fuck. That meant that no one had been here to empty it, so surely, some of his neighbors or even the mail carrier must be getting suspicious by now. More suspicious than Jason's own fucking family.

There were more suspicious signs as he got closer. Dust coated literally everything: the door knob, the tops of the door panels, the ceiling fan, the tables, even the goddamn floor, and Jason was a clean freak. He wouldn't have let it get like this if he could help it. The front door looked like it had been pried open with something like a crowbar. The locks were shot, and it could barely stay closed anymore.

And the Bats would've noticed all this if they fucking bothered to check.

Did they even care about Jason at all? Or just the concept of him? They seemed to want him to be a part of the family, but every time he showed signs of being, well, Jason, they would retreat. And if he just vanished, he was easily replaceable. It wasn't their fault; no, it was Jason's for not showing up, abducted or not.

It smelt of decay in the apartment, and he immediately covered his nose with a bandana he had in his pocket. His eyes watered. It just reeked of death, and for a moment, Roy thought that he was too late. Blood absolutely caked everything from the furniture to the floors to the walls to the ceiling, and all of it was centered around the kitchen. There were a few crowbars, a tire iron, and three guns scattered around, all of them bloody as well. The window was fucking left open. A body laid there, having decayed for what he could clearly see was a month. Luckily, he knew that it wasn't Jason, but he didn't like the reason why.

The corpse was wearing a fucking clown mask.

He was immediately dialing Dick's number, knowing that they were still probably hovering over that drug case, content to let the trail of Jason's abduction go cold. Hell, his boyfriend was probably dead by now.

No, don't think like that.

He heard Dick pick up.

"Roy? Did you find him?"

"Are the others still there?" He seethed quietly, wanting to yell at all of them at once.

"Yeah, do you want to go on speaker?"

"Please." Roy waited until he heard the beep to really lay into them.

"Harper? You wanted something?" That was Damian clearly.

"You are all a bunch of fucking idiots." Roy cursed. "Why even bother being vigilantes if you can't even BOTHER to notice a horrific crime being perpetrated against your own fucking brother?"

Bruce's voice came on next. "Report. What happened?"

Roy sneered even though he knew they couldn't see. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Roy, can I FaceTime you? I want to see what's going on." It was Dick now.

He scowled. "Come here yourself. See for yourself like I did and tell me one more fucking time that Jason will come back when he feels like it."

"All right."

"You should all feel fucking sick that you let this get so far." He hung up, not wanting to hear any of the arguments they would come up with in their defense.

After that, his knees simply gave out from under him. Jason, his Jason, was gone. After an entire month, if he was even still alive, he could literally be anywhere across the globe. The culprit--obviously the Joker based off of the clown mask--had weeks and weeks to cover his tracks, to let the trail go cold, but he wouldn't do that, right? The Joker was all about showmanship. He would want Jason to go out with a bang or something.

....Or maybe the show would be Bruce and the rest just discovering Jason's body, already dead, and there would be nothing anyone could do about it.

And the fact that it was the Joker too made it a million times worse. That goddamn psycho clown was his partner's worst nightmare, and he had been stuck in his claws for roughly an entire month. God, Roy wanted to puke just thinking about what Jason must be thinking, feeling at that exact moment. He must think that everyone had abandoned him at this point.

Roy was privileged enough to know some of Jason's secrets, and one that he kept to himself was that he had died begging for his father to save him. Was he doing the same now? Or had he in the past, having already died?

Why did he bother going off world for a stupid mission that probably could have been done by someone else? The Joker must have known when he left. Based off of the level of decomposition, Jason had been kidnapped almost immediately after Roy left. If he hadn't have left, this wouldn't have fucking happened. Realistically, he knew that the Joker would have found some other way to make his move, but someone would have been there to at least notice. Roy would've done more too. If he had known, he would've stopped at nothing to find him, and by now, Jason would probably be safe and everything.

Roy took pleasure in that Jason had fought back, clearly wounding many and killing one of the henchmen who joined the clown. He wanted to lash out at the corpse, to at least kick it, but he didn't want to damage any evidence that could still be there.

If there was any still because  NO ONE FUCKING NOTICED.

The door slammed open, and Roy whipped around, wiping the tears out of his eyes furiously. All the Bats crowded the door frame, each of their eyes widening as they took in not only the state but also the age of the scene before them.

"Oh my God." Dick gaped.

Chapter Text

"I hope you're fucking happy. God, I hope this fucking gives you joy because it sure as hell isn't for me." Roy stayed where he had collapsed on the ground, slowly rocking back and forth.

Dick blinked hard a few times, his eyes shining with what could only be tears. "It's not...I promise you it's not."

He looked around the room, taking in the corpse (obviously not his brother...it was a woman), the bloodied weapons (if it wasn't Jason's weapon....it was probably Jason's blood), and the overall signs of the struggle around the room (his little wing had fought back...had he been waiting for them to come help him?), and dear fuck, his little wing was still there if he was still alive. The bitch's corpse was old....about a month old, he thought. That meant that Jason had been struggling, probably wondering where the fuck they were or if they were even coming at this point. He would come, obviously, but he should have come earlier. It was his responsibility after all. He was the big brother. He was the one who was supposed to protect his baby siblings from the world.

...he failed on that one big time.

"I should be able to get some DNA out of these spatters." Tim mentioned offhandedly, pulling at some loose strings at the sleeve of his costume. Dick had noticed that he had taken to doing that whenever he felt nervous or guilty over something, and well, if there was anything to ever feel nervous about, this was it.

Bruce walked over to the body. "We should call in Commissioner Gordon. They need to take the body."

Roy jumped up. "What? Are you so eager to push this case onto someone else already?"

"No, but-"

"Jason is your son. You are supposed to fucking notice if your children get abducted! Don't just brush this one off, Batman. Do your fucking job, or take off the fucking cowl." The archer glared daggers at the older vigilante. "Because of your carelessness, Jason could be anywhere in the fucking world right now. Don't give me that look; you know it's true. The trail went cold long ago, you fuckwit. We just have to hope that the Joker wants to put an a...show, believe it or not, because I don't think any of this," he gestured rapidly around the room, "will get us anywhere."

Tim scraped at some of the blood on the floor. "We have to try."

"You should've done that a month ago!"

"Well, we didn't, and we're stupid not to have picked up on this earlier. But there is nothing we can do right now to change the past. We can only work from here to do better in the future." He deposited his tool into a sterilized bag. "Now, are you guys going to get started or not?"

Stephanie finally opened her mouth, a tiny bit of blood coming out from where she had been biting her lip. "How are you so calm?"

"I'm not!" He groaned. "But there is work that needs to be done."

They had practically turned the apartment upside down and inside out searching for clues on where in the world Red Hood could be or who they could talk to that might know the answer. Unfortunately, the body belonged to Vanessa Hooper, who had no family and seemingly no friends either, so they had to rely on finding a blood spatter from someone else who was involved. While they had yet to run anything, Tim was fairly confident that they would find someone. Jason hadn't gone down without a fight, so odds were that someone bled somewhere.

All of the evidence they found were currently being processed in the Batcave or sitting on a table ready to be examined. No one had been in the apartment since the incident as far as they could tell; the dust had not been disturbed. Roy had put all of the mail they had been missing in a bag and was sitting down next to it. Neither their neighbors or the mail carrier had called in about any suspicious activity, but that was normal in Crime Alley. The police didn't fuck around there very much. It was pointless to even try.

He did feel guilty, very guilty, but he tried his best not to show that outwardly. The other Bats, minus Bruce, all seemed to be breaking down physically, so someone had to take the lead to hold the team together. Batman wasn't being much of a leader right now anyway. The older man had retreated into himself. He was doing the work, but he was working alone as if no one else existed. It felt...wrong, starting from the beginning. They should have been much further along in the case by this point. Jason should be back by now.

It was too late now anyway. If when Jason comes back, he would never forgive them for not noticing he had fucking disappeared, especially when his abduction was so obvious, and he would be right in hating them all. Tim wished for forgiveness already, but there was no one he could ask for it. He didn't deserve it anyway. If he had taken a step back, got his head out of his ass, and looked at something other than the drug running case they had been working on, surely, he would have noticed that his older brother had vanished, but no, he had thrown himself into his work. Nothing else had been real to him.

"He....he sent letters." Roy's voice cracked, and Tim's heart ached for him. "The Joker, I mean. They all went to his apartment, and still, no one noticed."

He separated the bills that had gone unpaid from the envelopes with different messages scrawled on the top of them. The worst thing was that there were so many of them. The Joker had to have been sending these at least several times a week, trying to get their attention.

...even the Joker thought that they would have been better.

The family paused, gathering around the table. The machinery testing the blood still ran, and it made a beeping noise every few minutes. He tried to clear it from his head. He needed to focus on Jason, his brother, his favorite Robin, who probably hated his guts once more. Tim kind of hated his guts too at the moment. He felt sick.

Wearing blue nitrile gloves, Roy carefully undid the seal on the first letter, dated only a few days after he had left to go to space. It must have been almost immediately after Jason had been kidnapped from their apartment. Inside the envelope was a card. It looked like on of those thank you cards that you would give out to people after birthday parties, all covered in balloons and smiles. Tim wanted to burn it.

Greetings, Batsy!

Where to begin, where to begin? Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, Robin Numero Dos has gone missing! Gasp!

I quite liked the time we had together when he was younger. He screamed so sweetly.

Anyway, I was thinking. Why don't we put on a little show? Just you and me....and your son, I guess. It'll be fun!

We'll be in Amusement Mile in two days time. See you there! It'll be a real riot!

"He literally told you where Jason would be." Roy stood up and slammed his fist into the wall. "You had a fucking chance to get him back in a matter of days, and you still didn't notice."

Bruce spoke up. "I get that you're angry."

"I'm not angry. I'm fucking pissed! You took a child in, adopted him, gave him a home, and now, you couldn't be bothered to check up on him at all for an entire month after he'd been literally abducted." He kicked the chair he had been sitting on, ignoring the pain coursing through his body.

"We were not aware-"

"You should have fucking been." Roy laughed loudly, but it was not out of happiness. He was near hysteria. "There were so many signs that something had gone wrong, but nope! You all chose to ignore every single one of them. You had your fucking chance to have Jason. Hell, you've had two chances. That's more than most people get, Bruce."

He sighed, pausing for a moment, before picking his chair back up and sitting back down in it. The archer continued to stare at the multitude of letters before him, feeling more and more hopeless as time passed.

"There are probably fingerprints still on these, Harper." Damian coughed awkwardly into his fist. "If not from a henchman, then from one of the mail carriers. Either way, they might have information."

"Thanks, Dami." Roy didn't blame Damian for this. He was too young to have really taken charge of the investigation. While Damian should have still found it odd that Red Hood had disappeared, he couldn't fault the kid for not doing anything about it.

Tim, also wearing gloves, carefully took the first letter from Roy and put it on a separate but equally sterile table. He glared at it hard, but it wouldn't disappear. It was just a reminder of how much he and the rest of the Bats had failed his brother yet again. Would they ever do anything right by Jason?

Roy sifted through the pile again, finding the next letter.

You never showed up! Why? Did I do something to upset you?

I don't like it when people don't show up to my parties. Jayjay and I were all by ourselves for hours and hours and hours!

You made me mad, Batsy. People don't like me when I'm mad, Jayjay especially.

You'll come next time though, right?

Tim knew that all of the Bats at one point that month had wondered if they should go check on Jason, but none of them had ever actually followed through with those concerns. They should have, but no, it was all 'he does this all the time' bullshit that he couldn't stand anymore. They should've been smarter. What's the point of being called a detective if you don't even notice when your own family is missing?

"He's taking out his anger on Jason." Dick murmured.

"Did you expect anything less?" Roy growled, ripping through to the next letter. He wanted to get all of these read as soon as possible, so they could move on and find his partner.

The next envelope, however, didn't have a letter in it but an item. Roy frowned, put his hand inside of it, and took it out. It was a lock of human hair, part black, part white, tied so prettily in a purple and green bow. Suddenly, any small doubt that still remained in any of their hearts that Jason was not with the Joker fled. That was definitely his hair; they didn't even have to do a test to figure that out. Swallowing heavily, the archer put the hair carefully on top of the letter as though treating it nicely would help ease Jason's pain or something. Cass took it aside quickly and silently.

The fourth had writing again.

Are you ignoring me? Why, Batsy, how could you be so rude?

Or is it that you haven't noticed that your baby black sheep has gone missing yet? Or are you ignoring him and not me?

Maybe you've forgotten about him entirely. Don't worry; you don't have to explain the details to Jayjay.

I'll do that for you.

"Well, he definitely hates you." Roy said. There was little to no emotion on his face as he stared at Bruce.

The Bat did not respond.

The letters just seemed to be getting worse and worse as time went on. Eventually, Bruce just left, not able to deal with the emotions he was probably feeling at the moment, and Roy hated him for that. Why did he get to leave, to ignore what was going on? He should be doing everything in his power to get his son back, to get Roy's partner back, but no, he needed some personal time. Roy's feelings were all over the place at the moment, but he was still doing his work. Why couldn't Batman?

Damn it, he missed his Jaybird.

One of the envelopes had a ring on it, looped around a chain. The other Bats might not have realized the significance of it, but Roy sure did. It was the promise ring he had given his partner almost three months ago at this point. Jason had taken to wearing it around his neck because he had been afraid he would lose it otherwise. It was bloody too, both the ring and the chain encrusted in dark red.

"That's Jason's?" Stephanie quirked an eyebrow up.

Roy nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I gave it to him a while ago." He wet his lips. The archer had been doing enough crying lately to be dehydrated, he guessed. "It's his promise ring."

"Oh." She paused. "You were going to propose?"

"Yeah, I was." He shook his head. "Still am, I guess, as soon as I find the slippery fucker."

Regretfully, he had to put the ring aside as well to be searched for fingerprints and any other evidence he could find. Roy wanted to keep it close to him. It was something that was Jaybird's, and that was all that mattered to him. He wanted to keep it close to him.

Soon enough, they came across the last letter, the final one. It wasn't dated too long ago, but the spacing between them had definitely increased. The Joker was losing interest. Roy snarled, knowing that meant that soon enough Jason would be worthless to him. There would be no show to perform, so he'd get rid of his 'props.'

Well, you've impressed me! I didn't think I'd get away with this for as long as I have.

I wanted a show though....I never got my show. How could you do that to me, Batsy?

Soon enough, Jayjay will get boring. He's being ridiculously uncooperative as well. Is he even worth keeping around?

He checked the date. This letter had only been written about a week ago. Jason had been alive as of last week, but now, he was unsure. Did the Joker find him boring already? Did he already get rid of him?

"We need to do something fast." Dick's eyes widened. "Show the Joker that we're onto him. Maybe he won't get as bored if we do."

Tim agreed. "It would buy Jason some time, but do you think we'd be able to find him from there?"

"He has to slip up sometime." The eldest brother sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Roy bit his tongue, trying not to curse them out again. They deserved it, but they had already heard his point. It was just wasted breath now. What if the Joker had already disposed of Jason? What if there was nothing left of his lover? What if he's still alive, but the Joker goes to even more extreme measures to fuck with them all? Damn it, he wanted to kill the fucking clown. He kind of wanted to at least injure some of the Bats as well. They deserved it anyway.

Chapter Text

When Jason first came to, he was aware of only a few things. One, that he had been attacked in his own safe house. Two, it had been the motherfucking clown yet again. And three, he had no idea where the hell he was. He shouldn't have been too surprised at that last one. All he could see were the bare walls of someone's basement and the rickety old stairs the went to the main floor.

The room was...sparse, to say the least. There was no furniture except for the steel chair he had been tied down to, and that chair was bolted to the floor as well. There goes one plan. There were no pictures on the walls nor a single window that might give him some clue as to his location. There was a single light bulb on the ceiling, flickering away as though it was about to die at any second. He hoped it would stay on; he had never liked the dark much.

The back of his head ached, but he couldn't move his hands to feel whatever wound was there. They were tied down elaborately, cuffs upon cuffs and ropes upon ropes. The Joker wasn't going to take any chances with him. Jason supposed that the pain was probably from a concussion he had gotten when one of the henchmen's crowbars fell with a sharp crack on the back of his head. It had been so loud that for a moment Jason had thought he had been shot.

Perhaps it'll hemorrhage, and I'll die before I even have to worry about seeing the Joker's ugly mug again. Despite the morbid topic, it made Jason grin to himself. He would much rather be dead than be in the hands of the Joker after all. The psychotic clown never took the easy road out. No, he always made someone's death extremely painful, and Jason found that he didn't want to reexperience that, thank you very much. He'd much rather go out on his own terms.

How long had he been out anyway? There was no sunlight in the room to give him a clue as to what time of day it was. Had it been a few hours? A day? Longer? Honestly, Jason had no clue, and he didn't know how to go about figuring that information out anyway.

He tugged a little at his bindings, but the Joker had made sure to tie up his individual fingers as well. They became practically nonfunctional. Damn. He had wanted to force the chair onto its side and hopefully break it, but the steel and the bolts in the floor remained unrelenting. There was a gag in his mouth, probably more to prevent him from biting someone than screaming. They had tied both of his legs to the chair as well, but his torso and head remained free. Because that would be helpful.

Jason froze as he heard footsteps upstairs, wondering briefly if it would do him well to pretend to be unconscious still, but the door slammed open before he could make a decision. The clown himself, accompanied by a few mask-wearing henchmen, swaggered down the stairs with the confidence of a man who just got a promotion. Jason felt relieved that the goons were wearing masks. The only reason people wore those things was to stop their victims from identifying them later on, so that meant that at least Jason wasn't about to die at this moment, right?

The Joker's face brightened once he saw that his new plaything was awake once more. "Hiya, Jayjay!" He bounced over to the younger man and paused for a few seconds.

Jason turned his head to glare at the clown, but he didn't even try to say anything. It would all come out muffled anyway.

The other man pouted. "That's no way to greet an old friend, Jayjay."

You're NOT my friend.

"I hope your excited though. I've got something really big planned for you." Somehow, his smile stretched impossibly wider. "What do you say, huh? Do you think Daddy Batsy will show up in time? I'm betting on...no! No, he will not! But won't it be so fun to find out? Maybe I'll be wrong this time!" He cackled.

Jason forced himself to look away. Frankly, what the Joker was saying unnerved him. 'Will show up on time?' indicated that there was a time that would be too late, and given their history, he knew that it meant a ticket back into the ground six feet under. If that did happen though, he wished it would be permanent at the very least, or maybe the Bats would have the forethought to cremate him this time? He didn't want to take any chance.

Oh, how he longed for his gag to be removed, so he could spit in the Joker's face. Maybe it'd wipe some of the creepy fucking make up off or something. He didn't know, didn't care, but the thought made him happy.

The Joker circled him a few times, and Jason snarled under his breath. The older man seemed to be looking for something, considering something, and Jason didn't like where that was going.

"I have to say that I do hope Batsy shows up in time. I want him to watch you die!" He laughed a bit as if he had said something hilarious. "There was really no hope for you by the time he showed up when you were a wee lil' Robin, and I want Batsy to feel that hope. And then, I want to rip it away from him. Wouldn't his face be fantastic?"

A few henchmen in the background murmured in agreement with their boss, but Jason stubbornly refused to acknowledge his words.

The Joker paused, crossing his arms over his chest and contemplating. "We do have to get you ready for the show, Jayjay. You're my main attraction! We can't have you looking like that, now, can we?"

What the fuck was he going to do to him? God damn it.

"Maybe I could put you in a cute outfit...but you look far too healed." He narrowed his eyes, wondering what he could get away with without his captive lashing out at him. "You'll behave for me, right?"

Jason growled, and the Joker took it as an opportunity to bring out his trusty crowbar again, using it to rip through the skin and clothing covering his left arm. Pain flared from the area, but Jason was unable to move it out of the way for the next assault. He swore he felt something crack, and he groaned deeply. Motherfucker, it hurt like a bitch. At least someone would have to notice that he didn't show up to their meeting in the Batcave, right?

"You have to admit that you're curious too. If there was a do-over, would your Daddy save you?" The Joker grinned. "Or would he throw you away like you were trash?"

What must have been about two days passed before Jason was moved from the tiny basement. He still didn't know where he was or where he moved to; they had made sure of that with yet another crack to the skull. Damn, if they kept this up, he'd be out of brain cells soon enough. 

He had a bag over his head when he woke up, yet he knew that all of his original bindings had been restored again. They were probably in pristine condition too; he didn't think any of the henchmen wanted to risk the Joker's wrath by doing a shoddy job and letting him escape. He hoped that the next person who tied him back up was stupid, or he was about to have real problems.

Jason soon came to the realization that not only did his clothing feel very different than the ones that he had on earlier but he also felt much, much cleaner. Of course, that only meant one thing. While he had been unconscious, someone had stripped him and bathed him, and Jason was totally not eager to find out exactly who did it. He hoped it was some random henchman, but for some reason, he just knew that his worst nightmare had been present as well for the humiliation factor if nothing else.

Craning his neck downwards, he shook his head wildly, flinging the sack off of his head. The room spun, and Jason was reminded of how little he had been given sustenance-wise since his abduction. He had been given almost no water, food, or restful sleep, all in a ploy to get Red Hood as weak as possible. He didn't want to admit that it was working. Squinting through the bright lights, he eventually recognized Amusement Mile, one of the Joker's favorite playgrounds, and he grew in confidence. It would be easy enough to find the Joker here; hell, this would be the first place Jason would think of looking. That meant that he'd be out of here soon, back in his safe house to clean up the mess and move on from this ugly occurrence. Maybe he'd even be able to cope well enough that Roy wouldn't notice a thing once he came back from his mission. Jason always hated making his partner worry, so hiding this wouldn't be a bad idea in his opinion.

Unfortunately, now that he could see where he was, he could also see the Joker looking bored as all hell a few feet away from him. A bored Joker was not a pleasant Joker, and Jason's breath immediately caught in his throat. The Joker seemed almost sad, almost...disappointed? It was a weird look on his face, and Jason wished for nothing more than to wipe it off of him.

The Joker must have felt his gaze because he looked up not long afterwards. "Batsy hasn't shown up yet." He said almost mournfully. "I hate it when Batsy ignores me. What did I do to deserve that? I planned everything out! I got this location set up all nice and pretty for him, I got all my followers prowling around, and I even have you! I thought that he wouldn't stop for anything until he had all of his kiddies safe again." He frowned, kicked a lone rock on the floor.

Jason managed to peer out of the tent he had put him in, and yes, it did seem odd that no one had shown up by this time, especially if the Joker had invited Bruce as he expected he did. It was nearing dusk, and all patrols would soon cease. The Bats would return to the cave and head up the stairs to their warm beds, and Jason would be left here.

The Joker prowled closer to him and set himself in Jason's lap, straddling his waist. Jason desperately wished to bite him, but his mouth was still otherwise occupied by a stupid piece of fabric. Jason leaned back as far as he could, but it didn't stop one of the Joker's sharp fingernails from tracing a path on his neck from ear to ear. Oh, fun. The Joker was thinking of killing him already.

The weight lifted off of his legs, and Jason finally exhaled. He hadn't even realized that he had been holding his breath. He only had a moment of reprieve though, and he felt the sharp sting of the Joker's hand soon after.

Backhand?

Again.

Or forehand?

"I'm bored." The Joker moaned pathetically as if Jason was supposed to pity him or something.

I don't care. Go suck a chainsaw.

The madman walked out of his field of vision for what felt like forever, and he just knew he wouldn't like whatever it was that the Joker found to play with. His breath wouldn't stop hitching, but god damn it, he wasn't about to fucking cry in front of the clown. Or anyone else for that matter. Tears were disgusting, and they were not worth his time nor his effort. Bruce wouldn't be coming tonight, and Jason would just have to figure out how to get out of this mess by himself. He'd done that before in millions of other situations, so why should this one be any different?

Because it's HIM.

It shouldn't make a difference at the very least.

He craned his neck, moving his shoulders to give him the best possible vantage point towards the clown's location, but he couldn't see much. He had a crowbar like usual, but he wasn't coming back yet. It made Jason nervous, to say the very fucking least.

When the Joker came back, he looked much happier with himself, swinging to crowbar around joyfully. "Look, Jayjay! Just like old times, yeah? Maybe Batsy is still around but needs to be drawn out! Maybe he needs...motivation!" He looked pleased as though he had come across some brilliant conclusion.

Jason knew he was wrong. Bruce wasn't coming. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that all of this would disappear, but it just wouldn't. He wished he could shut off his ears too, anything to block out the sound of the crazed laughter coming from his greatest fear.

He swung at his shins first, and Jason was glad he had been tied to the chair as he definitely would have hit the floor otherwise. He grimaced, refusing to give the Joker the satisfaction of hearing him scream, but it was becoming difficult as he felt something crack under the Joker's second blow. He felt like sobbing, wailing really, but he would not, could not, refused to do so.

Where was Bruce? Bruce said he would always come for him if he was in trouble. Maybe he had truly made him mad by running away, all the way to Ethiopia? They had had their...difficulties, but Bruce loved Jason, right? He wasn't going to just give up on him, right? Jason had gone out in search of his biological mother, but that hadn't ended anywhere good. He flinched violently as he felt the crowbar slam against his ribcage, a gasp forcing its way out of his mouth.

His eyes flew open again, and he took a good moment to look around. No, he was being foolish. He wasn't in Ethiopia, and there was no chance in hell that Bruce would even be close to making it this time. He wasn't a kid anymore. He was an adult, and he got himself into this mess. It would have to be him to get himself out of it as well. Maybe Bruce was trying to teach him another lesson or something? Actions have consequences or some bullshit like that? But what could he have possibly done to deserve this? Why couldn't they just save him already?

The Joker cackled, swinging harder than ever before, but he stopped it only centimeters from Jason's face. He couldn't withhold a wince at how close he had gotten to a no doubt serious injury. Slowly, the madman brought the crowbar down and patted Jason on the head gently. The motherfucker was pleased with himself.

"I guess we know the answer, huh? Daddy wouldn't come in time. I was originally just going to kill you, to see if you could hold on long enough until he gets here, but I don't think he's coming."

If that look had been on anyone else's face, Jason would've felt sorry for them, but no, this was the Joker who looked like someone had just kicked his puppy. He wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. The clown stood and trudged around the tent morosely for a bit, seemingly deeply depressed over the lack of attention he was getting.

"We'll just have to try this another time, yeah? Don't worry, Jayjay; you'll get your show soon enough..."

Was it really that hard to find him? Jason grew more and more antsy as time passed. He had been returned to the basement soon after, so he was fairly confident that he was still in Gotham somewhere. Where exactly, he didn't know, but he couldn't imagine being elsewhere. They'd want to keep him close to Amusement Mile, so they could transport him quickly to and fro after all their attempted 'performances.' 

Despite how many dumbass costumes he got dressed up in (he wasn't a fucking doll, thanks), Batman never showed up. Jason was beginning to think that he wouldn't show up ever, and why would he? Jason Todd was the disappointment of the family, so maybe he was just taking this as an opportunity to rid themselves of Red Hood forever. They'd even be able to keep their hands clean and claim that they had just been too late to save him from the psychotic madman. People would probably believe it too. The Bats had never been able to save everyone, so who cared if he became yet another statistic?

He worried for himself, yes, but he worried for his people more. He had several Crime Alley families under his protection, people who depended on him for food and safety. It was his job to keep those streets clear of dangerous drugs and violent crime, and without him, no one would step in to fill his shoes. Would they think that Red Hood had simply abandoned them all? The younger ones probably would, especially the 'street rats.' Suicide rates would skyrocket too. Bruce and the others might not realize it, but a big part of his job was suicide prevention, not murder or whatever they thought he did. Crime Alley and the Narrows were full of people down on their luck, depressed as all hell, and a good portion of them would try to take their own lives. He had caught people from jumping off of building, grabbed guns and knives out of people's hands. Sometimes, there were repeat offenders, and Jason didn't know what to do with them all. Even if they had enough money for psychiatric treatment, which was doubtful, the psych ward of Gotham General Hospital would never be able to house that many. Without Red Hood there to stop them....Jason worried about what would become of those people.

Jason glanced up at his hair. Not too long ago, the Joker had skipped into the room with a ridiculously large pair of scissors and all but shoved it into his face. For a moment, Jason thought that the Joker would attack, but no, all he did was cut off a piece of his hair. After that, he left. It was...odd. Why wasn't the Joker attacking him? Beating him half to death at any given opportunity? He must want something from him, something that he wouldn't be able to give if he was too terribly injured.

That being said, the beatings hadn't stopped entirely. They just didn't go to as extreme lengths as the one that had led to his death had, and Jason was glad for that. It would help him think more clearly, but even if he got a good idea, he doubted he'd be able to execute it correctly. He was barely given enough food and water to survive as it was, and with all of the little injuries presents the Joker had left him with, he wouldn't be able to move efficiently at all. 

It was getting a bit ridiculous. Someone definitely should have picked up on his disappearance by now, so he just knew that they were purposefully ignoring him. Not just Bruce either, but everyone: Tim, Dick, Cass, Stephanie, and every other vigilante in the area. Even if Bruce had ordered them to leave him to rot, the younger heroes weren't known for their listening skills, so it was a personal choice. It hurt. He had thought that he had a family in them, one that he could return to eventually, but apparently, that was not the case. They wouldn't be leaving him in the hands of his worst nightmare otherwise. Plus, they must know that he had been missing; he had been planning on helping them with a case! When he hadn't shown up, had they gotten suspicious at all? Or had they not cared? Jason didn't know which one would be worse: plain ignorance or choosing to leave him to die.

There was no one else in the dark basement anymore. The light bulb had long since burned out, and no one ever replaced it. Jason supposed that it added another thrill for the Joker whenever he came down to have fun with him. All by himself, he took stock of his resources. If he couldn't see the Joker, it was likely that the Joker wasn't able to see him. This could be useful to him if he ever managed to free himself from the restraints. Speaking of getting out, he had tried numerous times, but it always ended in broken fingers and dislocated wrists. They were never set anyway, so Jason made the choice to not think of what the state of them would be when he got the hell out of here. His shins were still broken, and his ribs were definitely at least bruised, possibly fractured. The Joker hadn't stepped up his game so far, but it was only a matter of time. He was focusing on getting Bruce's attention for now. When he realized that he would not be getting his prize, he would fall back on Jason.

A few days after their last incident at Amusement Mile (yes, they went there multiple fucking times, and no one noticed), the Joker had gotten a few more toys. He still used his favorite crowbar, using it to smash his kneecaps to pieces (he shuddered thinking of the physical therapy that he would need), but he had many more things to play with. They were hardcore toys as well, usually used during 'interrogations,' but the Joker hadn't asked Jason a single question as he hooked Jason up to the machine and nearly electrocuted him. Even if he hadn't died, the shock of it all knocked him unconscious for what must've been days, Jason believed. 

But now, it was dark. And quiet too; he couldn't forget about that. His eyes were drooping, desperately wishing for sleep, but he couldn't let that happen. He had to remain vigilant, or who knows what else could happen?

You have to sleep sometime.

Shut up. He'd sleep when he's dead. For the millionth time, Jason wished he had a clock, anything to tell him how much time had passed, but no, he had nothing of the sort. The only interesting things that happened to him nowadays were also the most terrifying: someone coming down the stairs. Normally, it was just a henchman, there to splash water in his face or something, but sometimes, it was the clown himself.

This was one of those times. Like usual, he froze as he heard the door creak open, and he'd recognize the sound from the Joker's footsteps anywhere. He seemed rather morose today too, something that Jason was decidedly not excited about; he was always more violent those days.

"I don't think he's getting my letters, Jayjay." The Joker cried out. "He can't be ignoring me though. It has to be you! Batsy never fails to come to my parties...He usually puts me in Arkham afterwards, but potato pot-ah-to. So, Jayjay, how does it feel to be so unloved by Daddy dearest that he won't even come to save you?"

Jason didn't answer, choosing instead to look elsewhere. The Joker probably already knew the answer anyway. It hurt; of course it did. That man had taken him off the streets, given him everything he had ever wanted while he was still young and innocent, and now, he couldn't even be bothered to save him from the inevitable death at the end of this road. Truly, that was the only way this was going to end. He'd never be able to escape by himself, so either the Joker would kill him or Jason would find a way to do it himself.

What about your charges?

He ignored the little voice in the back of his head. Red Hood wouldn't be useful to anyone in Crime Alley or the Narrows if he was stuck in here for the rest of his days. It would be best to get it done and over with, so they can be certain that he's dead and find some way to move on. There would be casualties in the power vacuum (hell, there probably already was), but there was nothing he could do about that. Maybe Bruce or one of the others would decide to take over his routes for him, but they'd never give those people the attention they deserved. He wondered if anyone he knew was dead. Maybe they had sat on the ledge of a very tall building, waiting for Red Hood to find them as they sometimes did, and then, when he did not, maybe they...tipped over the side of the roof. Because, deep down, some of them didn't really want to die. They wanted someone to save them, to show them that someone cared, and if Red Hood wasn't there, he doubted anyone else would've bothered.

Jason didn't like the thought very much.

Had enough time passed for Roy to come back? Roy was still on his side, right? Or had they all planned this out? He shook his head, banishing the hysterical thoughts. Even if Bruce wanted him dead, he wouldn't work with the Joker of all people, and the Joker wouldn't be acting like this if that was the case. Plus, Roy loved him. He gave him a promise ring and everything! Everything would be okay if he could hold out until Roy came back to find him.

"You think this would give them a bit of an incentive, Jayjay?" The Joker materialized behind him, ripping at the chain on his neck.

Jason coughed roughly as it dug painfully into his throat, but the madman relented soon after, lifting the necklace from around his neck. The chain was sturdy; it had to be with his lifestyle. It looped through the promise ring Roy had given him earlier. It was made of shiny stainless steel, very practical, and had the words "I love you" engraved on the inside. As the Joker obviously wouldn't be giving it back to him, he immediately began mourning the loss of one of the only things he had left that connected him to the outside world and Roy especially. Would his partner ever forgive him for losing it?

He glared at the clown as he sat stroking his chin, seemingly deep in thought. It was fairly obvious what that ring must mean to him. Honestly, he had been surprised that he had managed to keep it for this long, but its loss still hurt as much as any physical wound the Joker gave him. It drove deep into his heart, creating an ache that would never fade, not until Roy came back.

"Yes, this should get their attention." He beamed. "Thanks, Jayjay!"

Suddenly, the clown was on him again, his hand whipping around, threatening to slam into Jason's face once more, but yet again, it stopped centimeters away. Jason tried to withhold his flinch. He didn't think it worked. Slowly, the Joker moved his hand and used it to pinch his cheek, giving him an endearing smile.

"Remember, Jayjay, no one has to get hurt. You're being all nice and cooperative right now and everything."

The passage of time had never been more distorted for Jason. Days came and went, and there was still no sign of a single Bat coming to get him. They couldn't spare him even a thought, let alone save him. Jason supposed he couldn't blame them. He was a murderer, and that was exactly the type of person that they fought against every single night. Why did he ever think that he could be one of them again? And were the Bats really so involved with their drug ring case that they were willing to ignore the Joker for what felt like an eternity?

"Are you going to be a good boy for me today?" The Joker's voice came from behind him this time.

How long had he been standing there? No one had come down the stairs while Jason had been conscious. He turned to glare at the older man because no, he was not going to be the 'good boy' that the Joker wanted him to be. Jason didn't even think he knew what that meant to the Joker. Compliance? Entertainment? Perhaps being a little ballsy? He didn't pretend to know what was going on in the psycho's head.

"Well? Are you?"

Jason glared at him.

The Joker gave him a mock-sympathetic look before continuing. "Such a shame that your Dad doesn't love you...perhaps you should leave him. Find someone who does care. Harley's always been partial to you, you know. She wouldn't mind having you around...permanently."

Is he seriously trying to get me to work with him? Is he an idiot?

"I wouldn't hurt you, you know. Well, I might if it sounds fun, but you'd only get punished if you do something wrong!" The Joker beamed. "And wouldn't it be fun to see the look on Daddy Batsy's face if you were to join me?"

Jason had to admit that he loved pissing Bruce off, but he hated the Joker even more. Hell no. Pass. No, thank you. Nada.

A knife found its way into the Joker's hands. From where, Jason didn't know, but he wasn't excited to see it. Unless he could somehow get it off of the Joker? Then again, he would never be able to cut through all his bindings before someone noticed, but oh, how he wished that he could stab the Joker. Maybe he'd get the opportunity to in the future.

When the Joker sat on his lap again and straddled him again, Jason did the only thing he could think of: a well-timed head butt. His head slammed into the Joker's, sending the clown sprawling onto the floor, and Jason grinned through his pain. It turned out head butting someone while you had a concussion hurt; who'd have thought?

"Bad Jayjay!" The Joker cried out, bringing his knife down on his collarbone.

Jason inhaled sharply once it made contact, the burning pain ripping through his body. That was all he really had to look forward to nowadays anyway. The only reprieve he ever had from the frustration, worry, and fear that seeped into his soul time and time again was the sharpness of physical pain. The longer he spent there, the more it seemed to....calm him? Jason wasn't sure why, but time was pain. Pain was time. The two of them were interconnected, correlated even. As the amount of time he spent in the dingy old basement increased, so did his pain. It all eventually faded into dull throbs he could easily ignore, but each new addition threatened to send him over the edge.

Strong hands found his hair, and his head was wrenched backwards, exposing his bare neck and bleeding collarbone to the man before him. Was he going to get rid of him now? Would he have peace? He waited for his throat to be slashed again, but it never came. The Joker towered over him. He seemed more in contemplation than anything else though.

"Are you really one of the Bats if they won't even come to get you?"

Probably not, but hey, that's to be expected. I am an asshole and a killer.

"Does that mean you can be mine now?"

Jason shot him an incredulous look and shook his head as well as the fierce grip would allow him. What sort of crack was the Joker on if he thought that Jason would ever work for him? Was he waiting for Stockholm to set in or something? He rolled his eyes, turning his darkest glare on the clown. It didn't seem to have any effect.

He felt the pain not long after, that wretched knife carving its way into his cheek. He grit his teeth deep into his gag, wishing that it would rip, so he would be able to get at the clown with something at the very least. Whatever the Joker was doing, it ended quickly, which made Jason pause. Why was he not being punished for being 'bad' again? What was the Joker playing at?

"There we go!" The Joker beamed excitedly, bringing out a small mirror. "Lookie! Now, everyone will know to stay away from you!"

The mark the Joker had left wasn't the first thing Jason had noticed. He hadn't had the chance to look at himself for ages, since before he had been abducted out of his safe house. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he had grown significantly paler and more emaciated during his stay there. Dark bags were prominent under his eyes, and blood that had long since dried caked his hair and forehead.

That little present from the clown, however, was distinct. It wasn't much, just a bloody J on his cheek, but to Jason, it was like a death sentence.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Jason's brain was well and truly broken at this point. It had to be; he didn't know what else it could be. He struggled keeping track of time, of the days since he had been abducted. There were no windows in the shoddy basement he had been placed in, no way of telling whether it was night or day. Jason only really knew that time was passing based off his own pain. As each injury's pain started fading into dull aches, he could tell roughly how much time had passed. It wasn't very accurate, but it was the best that he had to work with. 

Nothing, however, could distract him from the truth. 

Bruce hadn't come for him. Dick hadn't come for him. Tim hadn't come for him. Barbara hadn't come for him. Stephanie hadn't come for him. Cass hadn't come for him. Damian hadn't come for him. No one had come to save his sorry soul.

Maybe they were using this as a test? To see if he was truly worthy of bearing the bat symbol. If he could escape, he was good enough; if he couldn't, he wasn't worth their time. Subconsciously, he knew that this was incredibly unlikely; the Bats had never used such tactics in the past. No, this was just because no one had fucking noticed. If they had, they hadn't given a damn. They had never cared about him. They had never loved him. Any affection they had shown him in the past had been a falsehood, and Jason had fallen for it. He couldn't trust anyone anymore.

Had enough time passed for Roy to return from his mission? Was he at least going to come save him? Roy loved him, right? That couldn't have all been a lie. It would have been far too difficult to keep up the act for as long as he had, and Roy had given him a promise ring too. That meant that he had been planning on proposing eventually. Why would he have done that if he was just acting?

Even if Roy ever truly loved him, he'd have to use the zeta tubes located in the Batcave to get back, and there, the Bats would definitely intercept him. If they didn't want him to be saved, they'd stop anyone who would bother trying, and Jason liked to think that Roy was one of those people. They wouldn't do anything too bad to him, right? The Bats were had a strict policy against killing.

...That didn't mean that Roy would make it out of the Batcave unharmed.

The Bats meant unsafe. They meant danger. They were traitors and liars of the worst kind, and they had the audacity to presume that they were so much better than everyone else. They weren't. Jason thought that they were some of the worst motherfuckers in the universe.

The Bats = Bad

He didn't want to be here anymore. He had never wanted to be here. He may not be on Batman's side, but that didn't mean he was on the Joker's side either. No, he was on his own side. That meant that he was still in enemy territory, and he had to get out. Preferably, he'd be able to get out of this alive, but he wasn't going to miss any opportunity he had. He wasn't going to give the Joker the satisfaction of killing him, but if he was able to kill himself, that would be a victory for Team Jason, wouldn't it?

If only he had a way to do that right now. Grimacing, he took stock of his resources. There was still no light; no one had replaced the lightbulb. The ropes and the cuffs that bound him were still perfectly in place, and if anything, the goons were making them tighter every time they put them on. There was a pounding pain right behind his eyes, and it seemed as if every bone in his body were screaming at him. Every cut, scrape, and burn pulled at his skin with his every movement.

He was fucked.

The door to the basement slammed open, and Jason's eyes jumped to the figure at the top of the stairs. The Joker seemed angry about something, but he still skipped down the stairs as if he wasn't. His eyes flicked up and down, searching for weapons that the clown might have brought with him, but he only found the crowbar that he seemed to carry around with him wherever he went. He hadn't cleaned it since the last time they, ah, "played," and it was still covered in blood that Jason just knew was his. Whose else could it be?

"Well, I'm going to give Batsy one more chance, Jayjay." He swung the crowbar around carelessly. "It's funny;--I always thought that Batsy dearest would be a better daddy."

Jason rolled his eyes deep into the back of his head, not even bothering to try to come up with a response. He had gotten out of the habit of trying to talk what must have been weeks ago. The Joker nor any of his henchmen had ever bothered taking the gag out, so what was the point in using his vocal chords if the only sound that would come up would be muffled and incomprehensible?

If this was going to be the last time, though, did that mean that the Joker would kill Jason if he didn't show? Hell, he probably planned on killing Jason regardless of if Batman showed up. There was little chance that he would survive the night, but he didn't want the Joker to kill him. He couldn't let him win like that. No, he had to take any chance he had to do the deed himself.

"Harley mentioned that she wanted to be the one to dress you up this time." The Joker paused. "You're going to be nice to her, right? What am I saying--of course you'll be nice! You know what happens when you misbehave." He laughed.

Bitch, that ain't going to stop me from "being nice."

"I always thought you looked good in red." Harley pranced down the stairs to meet the Joker.

The Joker cackled. "It'd bring out all that blood."

Jason looked away, forcing his brain to think of something other than what was happening. What day was it? Was there nice weather today? Of course not, this was Gotham they were talking about. Was it night or day? Roy must've come back by now. Surely, he'd find him soon even if the Bats did their best to stop him. After all, Roy had promised that he loved him, and the archer would never lie about something like that. He just had to trust that he would come get his ass out of here.

But what would happen after that? His body was broken. Roy would be disgusted, and their relationship would never be the same ever again. There would be bandages on bandages, casts on casts, and at least months of physical therapy. Where would they get that treatment? The Bats could have turned everyone against him at that point. Dick had always been very convincing, and between all of them, they had connections all across the universe. No one would be on Team Jason except Roy and maybe Kori.

That was fine. That was all he needed.

He wanted his dad. Obviously, not the man that was around today, but he wanted the dad he had had when he had been Robin. Back then, Bruce had loved him. He had still been redeemable at that point, and he knew that Bruce had at least tried to get to the warehouse in time before he died. Nowadays, he either hadn't noticed or hadn't cared, and Jason didn't know which option would hurt him more.

By the time he had swum out of the depths of his brain, the Joker was gone. Harley was the only one around, and he had been moved from that basement. He wasn't sure where he was now, some sort of bathroom. He wasn't sure how he didn't notice being released from his bindings and moved, but now, there was a shower raining water down on his broken and bruised body. It was warm, which surprised him, as he thought that the goal was for him to be uncomfortable more than anything else.

"Jayjay, you're back!" Harley's smiling face met his. "Hi! How ya' doing?"

He was silent for a moment, wincing at the light that was shining brightly in his eyes. How long had it been since he'd been exposed to light? Days? Weeks? Jason didn't know.

Her eyes grew round. "You know, Mister J isn't too bad if you listen to him. If Batsy can't be your daddy, maybe I can be your mommy." She giggled. "You've always been a favorite of mine."

Jason's eyes narrowed. If she liked him that much, would he be able to convince her over to his side? It would be difficult to pry her away from the Joker; she was obsessed with the man. But if he managed to do so....maybe he'd be able to get out of here.

Eventually, he noted that the gag had been removed from his mouth. He coughed lightly and immediately started speaking, his voice hoarse from a month of disuse. "He's going to kill me, you know. Not enough time to be my mom or anything."

Harley frowned. "He won't hurt you if you listen, silly."

"That's not healthy." He shot back. "He had no qualms with killing me when I was fifteen. What sort of good man does that?"

She shook her head. "No, you've got it all wrong. Mister J isn't like that."

"What makes you think that he won't turn against you?" He challenged.

"Mister J loves me!" Harley laughed, a huge smile on her face. "He wouldn't kill me, and if you play nice, he'll learn to love you too."

Jason grimaced. "No, thanks. He's a child-murderer."

He could see the indecision growing on her face, and he hoped he had struck some chord deep within her. If he could get her on his side, maybe the two of them would be able to escape the Joker together, and they'd be able to get their revenge together. He had never hated Harley. She had been manipulated into loving the Joker, and he recognized an abusive relationship when he saw one. 

She shook her head, obviously trying to clear her thoughts. "I have your costume for you." She said quietly and switched off the shower and threw a towel over his head, gently massaging it to get the water out without causing too much pain.

It felt good. Jason found that he didn't mind Harley's presence at all; it was very, very different to how he had been treated by the Joker and his henchmen. Any movement hurt him, but she wasn't making it any worse. She could be hitting him, yanking his head around, but her touch was so light and careful. It reminded him of how his own mother, Catherine Todd, had treated him when he was younger.

He squeezed his eyes shut. Even if he didn't hate Harley, that didn't mean he had to switch to loving her instantly! This was just the first non-painful, loving touch he had had in a month; that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Do you need any help putting those on?" She offered, gesturing to the bright red outfit that the Joker wanted him to wear for the big show.

Jason shook his head rapidly, causing the world to spin. Bracing himself, he mumbled, "No, that's fine."

"I'll be outside should you need me, Jayjay." She wiggled her fingers at him as she backed out of the room.

Finally, he was alone, unbound, and ungagged. Clearly, he couldn't leave; there were no windows and a Harley Quinn out the door. What could he do? He wasn't about to be used as a toy for the Joker, to be tortured all night and slaughtered in the morning. Because that's what would happen, right? This was Batman's last chance to save him, so the Joker wouldn't need him anymore.

He sifted through the clothes that Harley had given him, hoping that for some reason she had given him a weapon or something. She didn't because why would she? She was convinced that the Joker was safe as long as Jason didn't piss him off or something. As long as he behaved, he wouldn't need a weapon.

Cursing, Jason bit his lip. His body was too mangled at this point to be able to rely on martial arts or brawling to get his way out of here. There was only one option, and he had only one weapon: himself. Eyeing his arm, he quickly located the rough location of where his radial artery would be. What if he just...?

Not bothering to think any more, Jason bit and ripped into the skin of his forearm with sharp teeth and tore with the energy and the strength of a ravenous beast.

"You should keep an eye on Amusement Mile at all times!" Roy grabbed his hair in his fists and pulled. "That seems to be where the Joker is keeping him!"

Bruce sighed. "Oracle has the place under constant surveillance. If the Joker goes back, we'll know."

He bounced his leg, refusing to look at the Bats. "We should know where he is by now." He brought his fists to his eyes and pressed them against his head until he saw stars. "Jason should be home by now."

"We'll find him." Dick promised. "It isn't going to be as fast as it should have been, but we'll get there."

"What if he hates me?" Roy ripped his hands away from his face, revealing watery eyes. "I wasn't there! I didn't come for him! He might think that I don't love him....I do. I love him more than anything, and he might hate me." The volume of his voice slowly escalated until the archer was all but wailing, nails scratching at his arms looking for some comfort.

He wouldn't accept any from the Bats though. They had left Jason to die and hadn't noticed that he had gone missing. For all he cared, they could go fuck themselves, and hopefully, they would never see them again once they got Jason out of the hellhole he was undoubtedly in at the time.

...He wanted his Jaybird back.

The eldest Wayne son shook his head. "He could never hate you."

"You don't know that! These circumstances...." He trailed off. "We need to find him now."

Tim's bike came to a halting stop in the Batcave, his tires squealing. "The Joker sent another letter."

Roy's eyes looked up rapidly, and he looked at the letter in Tim's nitrile gloved hands with hunger. "What does it say?"

The other Bats that were there at the time looked up as well, desperate to have any clue as to where Jason was or how they could save him. What if the Joker had just sent them a letter to gloat about killing Jason? What if it was already too late? Thoughts such as those dances across the minds of every member of the group, but they forced them to the backs of their heads.

Tim spoke up.

Hiya, Batsy!

I've decided that this will be your last chance to come save itty bitty birdie two.

I find that he's getting quite boring, and you can only hit him so many times. :(

Anyways, chop, chop! Times a' tickin'! By dusk, he'll be dead.

Chapter Text

Roy hadn't even finished suiting up before heard Tim start to holler to everyone in the Batcave. The younger vigilante had been typing furiously on the Batcomputer for the past ten minutes, and obviously, something worth noting had come up during that time. Everyone else, including Bruce, who seemed to finally notice the gravity of the situation they were in, looked up in surprise and edged closer to Tim.

"What's going on?" Dick demanded, his eyes flashing.

"Harley." The third Wayne son breathed out slowly. "Jason convinced Harley to help him. She just sent me an address."

An address.

"It could be a trap." Bruce muttered under his breath as he moved behind Tim to examine the message over his shoulder, but it seemed like he was talking more to himself than anything.

"Why would it be?" Roy challenged. "The Joker already made his plan, and I don't think he'd change it now."

He had no doubt in his mind that the address they had been given was where his Jaybird was. While he wasn't going to rush in there without a plan, he wasn't going to ignore the message given to them either. What would happen if they ignored it and it was good information? They'd lose the chance of saving his partner, and that wasn't something he was willing to risk. Roy was in charge on this case, not the Bats and especially not Bruce. They had had an opportunity to make things right, so now, it was Roy's turn.

"Honest," Cass pointed at the screen,

"That's what I was thinking," Stephanie agreed. "It doesn't sound like a lie. Her wording is too rushed, and she almost sounds...frantic."

Damian nodded. "Brown is right, Father."

Roy watched the Wayne patriarch's jaw tense the longer he stared at the message. At his side, his fists were clenching and unclenching, almost like he was trying to control himself, but from doing what, Roy had no clue. He didn't really want to know either. It probably wasn't very nice, and Roy hadn't had a good opinion of Batman since he and Jason started talking about him.

"She says we have to hurry." Tim rose to his feet. "I'm not sure what's going on there right now, but that doesn't sound good."

"The Joker got bored of him, Drake; what do you think that means?" Damian's fist tightened on his katana, but he didn't draw it yet.

Their arguing was taking too long. Roy turned quickly on his heel and all but marched over to his motorbike, but none of them noticed his disappearance until his engine roared with life. He saw a few of them jump in surprise at the sound.

"Are you guys going to help, or am I rescuing him by myself?" He raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

The eldest vigilante in the room, Batman, shot him a disbelieving look. "You can't just rush in there without a plan!"

"I do have a plan. It's called Operation Trust Harley Quinn." Roy snarled at him. "If you want to sit here arguing until dusk, which is when Jay's getting executed by the way, go ahead, but I'm not going to be joining you on that."

Harley darted her eyes to the left and to the right before knocking on the door once again. How long did it take Jason to put on the clothes? She knew that he was injured, but it couldn't possibly take this long, right?

It takes you a while to dress sometimes after Mr. J hurts you.

One thing that she had to her advantage, however, was the fact that most of the henchmen listened to her, so none of them were in the area at the time. The Joker might find it suspicious, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? As long as he didn't find out about her disobedience, everything would be fine. She could just make it look like Jason escaped, and while he would be mad at her, he wouldn't beat her too severely, right?

Or you could leave with Jason.

She cracked the door open after a few more moments of receiving no response. What could have happened to Jason? Contrary to popular belief, she wasn't an evil person in the slightest, but yes, it was true that the second Robin had been her favorite. Harley hadn't understood why the Joker had killed him. She had hardly been in any place to argue with him though, but now, he was back and in danger yet again.

The first thing she saw was the pile of clothes she had provided him with. It had clearly been rifled through as though he was looking for something, but it was notably not on his body. Harley held her breath as she edged into the room and shut the door behind her. Dark red hate for the Joker, something she had never felt before, filled her body as she took in the bloody scene before her.

Her charge had bit himself hard on both of his wrists, ripping out as much flesh as he could in an attempt to end it all. Jason was barely conscious, and his eyes could barely stay open any longer. Harley fell to her knees beside the boy (because that's what he was, a boy). She clutched at the wounds on his wrists, trying to keep pressure on them. She didn't have a lot of medical supplies on her at the moment, but she would do what she could. Harley hoped that the Bats would see her message soon. It wasn't like it had been encrypted or anything; she had just sent it off quickly as soon as she had finished talking to Jason. Blood came out of the young man's mouth as well, staining his lips and his teeth.

Ripping off a piece of fabric from her costume, she tied it around both of Jason's arms and tightened the knots with two nearby metal rods. It wasn't hospital-grade by any stretch of the imagination, but she hoped the tourniquet would last until help came. She held another part of her costume over the wounds as a makeshift bandage and kept firm and constant pressure on both of them. The humidity in the room had most likely kept the wound bleeding for longer than it would have, and she had to correct this now if Jason was going to make it. She'd be able to do it though. She knew she would.

It felt like hours had past before she heard the sound of gunfire nearby, but she knew that it couldn't have been that long in reality. All she had to do was wait, right? She couldn't leave Jason here by himself; he'd probably bleed out before she got a chance to return. Plus, if she left, that would just increase her chances of running into Mr. J, and she found that she didn't want to see him. Would the Bats know to look for him in here? They had a tracker on them all, right?

She paused for a moment. If they had a tracker on Jason, why did it take them so long to find him? It had been nearly a month. Odd.

"Hood?" Harley heard a man's voice call out, sounding as desperate as anyone could be.

"Here!"

The sound of footsteps increased in speed, becoming louder and louder as they got closer. Harley called out a few more times to guide whoever was coming (and hoped that it wasn't the Joker disguising his voice or some henchman she didn't know), and soon enough, the man reached the door. There were a few more sets of footsteps nearby, but they weren't nearly as close. Nor could she identify who they belonged to. The door swung open with a high amount of force.

Behind the door was Arsenal. Several of his arrows were missing, and he was panting. Blood covered him head to toe, a clear sign of the anger he felt at Red Hood going missing. She had heard Mr. J talk about how close the two of them were, how they had to wait until Arsenal went off world to hatch their plan. Well, it was his plan. She had very little to do with it.

"Jay!" The man, who she knew to be Roy Harper, dashed to her side, eyes flicking up and down the fallen antihero's body to catalogue his wounds; eventually, he looked up to Harley. "Thank you."

"Can I leave with you?" Her eyes grew wide and round. "Pumpkin here talked to me, and-"

"Yes," the archer promised. "Yes, you can. Come on, we have to get him to a hospital."

Harley furrowed her brow. "I thought you Bats went off to your cavey-whatsit when you're hurt."

His face darkened. "We're not going there."

She nodded warily, not knowing the entire story behind his obvious anger towards Gotham's most famous vigilantes, but she suspected that it had something to do with the amount of time it took Jason to get rescued. Mr. J had been telling them all month exactly where and when he would be. None of them ever showed up, and that all contributed to the sorry state Jason was in now.

"There's a fire escape down the hall." She hissed at him, keeping her voice low in case there were others close enough to hear them. "You carry him. I'm going to keep pressure on the wounds."

"Sounds good," he responded equally quietly, his arms reaching under his partner and lifting him into the air. "Damn, he's lost a lot of weight."

Harley nodded. She could feel every bone in his wrist as she squeezed the wounds shut. Jerking her head to the side, she led him to the nearest path to the fire escape and kicked the window open with her shoe. Harley breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the window was unlocked; that would have looked pretty stupid otherwise. She climbed out the window first, and Arsenal carefully followed, his eyes never leaving Red Hood's face.

They're so sweet together.

"Are you going to tell the Bats that he's safe?" She wondered out loud.

His expression turned stony once more. "Let them figure it out on their own."

"Okay," she knew when to stop talking about touchy subjects, so she let the conversation drop. "Do you know where Mr. J is?"

"...You don't need to worry about him anymore."

She looked up and down his body, taking in the quantity of blood that drenched him head to toe. Oh.

The fire escape was thankfully far away enough from the fighting that the three of them were able to get out virtually undetected. Roy was sure that Barbara might have seen them, but other than that, the coast was clear. He glanced down again to his partner, not knowing if the pale skin was due to lack of sunlight or blood loss or both. 

He quickly shook himself. Jason needed help fast, and getting distracted would only slow them down. Roy had to pretend that this was any other Gotham citizen he was saving, not his boyfriend. There was a reason people didn't work cases that they were too close to, and this was it. He had to distance himself until it was safe to drop his guard, no matter how much he wanted to just let it all go and give as much affection as he could to his partner.

They wouldn't be able to take his motorbike safely to the hospital, but Roy had a different plan. He and Harley quickly moved into the darkness, trying not to be visible to prying eyes. They found a car quickly, a black one that was just cheap enough that no one would give them a second glance, and after setting his partner down carefully, he reached in through the open window and unlocked the car.

Roy had done worse things than stealing cars in his youth, and if anyone said anything, he'd convince Oliver (or guilt trip Bruce) to throw money at them. It wouldn't be a problem. Jason was wounded severely, so they didn't have time to go about this the correct, legal way.

On the way to the hospital, he probably broke nearly every goddamn driving law there was, but he didn't care about any of the fines he was probably racking up. No police officer stopped him either. Roy wouldn't have slowed down even if he did have cops on his tail anyway. The hospital wasn't terribly far from where they had been (not far from Amusement Mile), but it wouldn't hurt to get there a few seconds faster anyway.

He didn't bother parking the car either, just swung it around towards the ambulance undocking area and leapt out of the driver's seat. A few of the workers furrowed their brows at the man, opening their mouths to question why they had come there, but Roy beat them to it.

"I have a man who needs serious help." He panted slightly, the waves of adrenaline slowly wearing off.

Their mouths opened to form an 'o' in understanding, and one of the women on the team immediately pulled a stretcher nearby. Roy could see the hesitation on their expressions as Harley carefully stepped out of the car, but upon seeing the mangled body of Roy's partner, they all sprung forward. One of the nurses nearby held onto the the wounds and kept pressure on them, so Harley was finally able to step away. She flexed her hands as they had started aching over the time she had spent clutching Jason's arms.

"A blood type, allergic to doxycycline-" Roy immediately started listing off everything he knew about his partner, not caring if it would be suspicious that he as Arsenal knew these things about a seemingly random victim.

"We have some papers you can fill out for that." Another worker put their arm on Roy's shoulder and led him inside.

He wouldn't stop looking at his partner. Why was this person leading him the wrong way?

"He's going that way." Roy stood firmly in place, not letting them pull them away.

"They're heading to the operating room immediately." They explained. "You are not nearly sterile enough to be there, and they cannot afford to be distracted."

Logically, he knew that they were right. He was covered in the blood of the scum of the Earth, dirt, sweat, and fuck knows what else, and the doctors couldn't allow there to be any chance for those contaminants to make their way into Jason's wounds. They were already dirty and infected, and some of them were healed improperly. He felt Harley pushing at him too, trying to guide him away from his partner, the partner who could be dying right as they stood there.

"I'm Nurse Nguyen." They passed him a clipboard. "You seem to know a lot about the patient, so please fill this out to the best of your ability."

Chapter Text

Roy hadn't stopped tapping his foot since the nurse had sat him down in the waiting area. He had filled out the clipboard they had handed to him quickly, knowing that his partner was likely being treated at that very moment, and well, the doctors would need that information to treat Jason correctly. Now that that was done, however, time seemed to slow down. All of his brainpower had gone to thinking about his partner, about what had happened to him, and about what will happen to him, and he found himself plagued by millions of 'what ifs' that were impossible to answer. What if he hadn't gone on that mission? What if Harley hadn't sent them that message? What if Jason had been slightly more successful at biting his arteries out?

It was no use thinking about those hypotheticals. Roy couldn't change what had already happened, but he was damn sure that it wasn't going to happen again. If that meant completely severing ties with the bats, then so be it. If the archer hadn't stopped by the Batcave that day, they still wouldn't have a clue that Jason was missing, and by now, he would be dead. While it wouldn't have been directly their fault, they sure as hell would have been complicit. The Joker had given them the answer on a silver platter over and over again. All they had to do was check on him one time, but they didn't even do that. They hadn't cared enough about Jason to do that.

His anger burned through his body with a vengeance, and he squirmed in his seat out of discomfort. Every now and then, he'd catch Harley shoot him a sympathetic glance. Not for the first time, he wondered what she had gone through at the hands of the Joker and if it was in any way similar to what Jason was subjected to over the last month. Harley never seemed sad to other vigilantes, but there was definitely something swirling within the depths of her eyes. He didn't know if she was even aware of those feelings anymore. Being near the Joker as frequently as she had must have meant that she repressed a fuck ton of emotions, and that was only the tip of the iceberg of mental problems she had accrued.

His eyes flashed back down to his hands resting in his lap, and his frown deepened. No one had come to check in on them about Jason in a long, long time, and while that meant that he wasn't dead, Roy wanted to be updated at all times. He needed to know what was going on with his partner. What sort of injuries had they found that Roy hadn't seen on first glance? Were there any internal bleeding or other damages?

The bats had probably realized that Roy had skedaddled with Jason and Harley by now, but he didn't care. They were probably searching for all three of them out of guilt for not having done so weeks ago. He didn't care. As long as they didn't try to step foot into the hospital, he didn't care what the fuck they decided to do. None of them deserved to see Jason, and he had a feeling that Jason wouldn't want to see them. Roy sure didn't. They were partially to blame for this mess after all. If they knew what was good for them, they would stay far, far away, perhaps for the rest of their lives. Their inaction was unforgivable, and Roy wasn't feeling all that merciful at the moment anyway. He had known about the strife that went on between Jason and the others for years, but he didn't know that it would get so bad that they would ignore any sign that he had been abducted. It wasn't like Jason to leave Crime Alley without some system set in place to manage crime while he was gone. The bats didn't seem to know Jason at all, and if they did, they had done their best to ignore anything suspicious.

His hands tightened into fists. "How long have we been here?" He asked through grit teeth.

Harley's eyes flashed to the clock on the wall. "About five hours."

Okay, the bats had definitely noticed by now.

Given their history with being nosy, Roy was surprised he hadn't heard from any of them yet, but he supposed that it was possible that they were spying on them. Or perhaps it was another case of we-don't-care-enough-about-Jason-to-give-a-fuck. Either way, he was glad to have them out of their hair for now. He rocked back in forth in his chair, but it didn't bring him any comfort.

"He wasn't really going to kill Jason in the morning. It was just a threat to see if you guys really would come." Harley mumbled. 

Roy furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. J wanted him. He wanted to replace Batman."

"As....as his father?" He was hesitant to associate the word 'father' with Bruce, but he had to for the time being.

Harley shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with their conversation. "I didn't think Mr. J would hurt him so badly."

"He ever hurt you?"

"Not quite to that extent. I never had to come here." She gestured around to the hospital.

They fell silent again, and time became a blur once more. Roy was vaguely aware of other people coming and going in the waiting room. He couldn't help but feel jealous of them; most of them would return home with their loved ones. The patients they were waiting for might not necessarily be on death row. He wished he could say the same of Jason, but he had no idea about his current condition.

Growing restless, he rose to his feet. Harley shot him a nervous glance and furrowed her brow, but she didn't pull him back down to his seat. Roy wouldn't have let her do so anyway. He stalked towards the front desk, ignoring the disturbed looks being shot at him by the other people in the room; they were just focusing on the blood that still covered him. A feeling of satisfaction spread through him upon realizing that none of these people would ever be terrorized by the killer clown ever again. It didn't replace the grim determination that had settled over him. 

"Sir?" The nurse who had led him to the waiting room looked up from their computer.

"What's going on?" He demanded, knowing that they would know who he was talking about.

They sighed and brought their hands too their lap. "I will update you as soon as we have information, Arsenal."

What felt like an eternity later, Roy sat next to his partner's bed and gripped his hand tightly, but Jason had yet to wake up. Harley had joined them. She was sitting farther away from the two, and Roy wondered if she felt responsible for his partner now that she had helped save his life. He wasn't complaining. It would be good to have as many allies as possible in the future. They'd need it if they were going to stay away from the bats.

It had taken the doctors nearly all day to stitch his partner back up again. Of course, they hadn't been solely concerned about the twin wounds on his wrists, but that had been their main focus for now. As they hadn't wanted to put Jason's body under too much stress, they hadn't fixed anything yet. His shattered kneecaps and broken legs would need x-rays before anything could be done to them anyway. The doctors' priority had been making sure that his Jaybird would live to see the morning, and he'd be forever grateful for them.

"You should bathe." Harley mentioned. "I don't think he would enjoy seeing all the blood when he wakes." She would have to as well.

Roy shot another glance up at his partner's face. "Later. He won't wake up for a while."

No one came to kick the two of them out once visiting hours were over, and Roy suspected it had been half out of respect for the vigilante and half out of fear of what he would do to them if they tried to make him leave. The archer honestly wasn't sure what he would have done, but he wouldn't have left without a big argument at the very least. How could he leave? This was Jason they were talking about, one of the reasons Roy was still alive, so he couldn't just abandon him in a building full of strangers, especially when the building could be easily invaded by bats.

At some point during the night, Harley had fallen asleep in her chair, but Roy kept his vigil in silence. Jason didn't so much as twitch throughout the night. His face remained as lax, expressionless, and pale as it had when he had first seen him in Harley's arms, but now, he was dwarfed by the machines that he was hooked up to and the bandages that he was wrapped in. His hand felt cold, which was odd because Jason was normally a furnace of body heat.

The ever-present beeping of the heart monitor was interrupted by footsteps coming down the hallway. He tensed. In the short period he had be there, he had already memorized the rotation of nurses and doctors, and well, no one was due to check in on them yet. He had no doubt that the footsteps were heading in their direction.

His hand curled into a fist, and he grabbed his bow out of instinct. The footsteps slowed down as they got closer to the door. He had a bad feeling that he already knew who it was anyway. Darting forward, Roy slammed the door open and shoved his bow, an arrow ready to fire, at whomever dared to trespass, and the dark figure took a few steps back out of surprise. The other man schooled his features quickly soon after, not wanting to be seen as weak.

"Get the fuck out." Roy narrowed his eyes, blocking the other man's view of his partner; he didn't deserve to see how Jason was doing.

It was Batman....because of course it was. Why couldn't they have it easy for once in their lives? The older vigilante was notoriously difficult to deal with on a good day, and well, Roy hadn't been having the best of days recently.

Bruce stared at him. "Let me see him. He's my son."

"No."

"You killed the Joker." He added on, trying to find a good point for his side of the argument. "I don't allow that sort of thing in my city."

"Boo hoo," he rolled his eyes. "I don't give a shit."

His jaw visibly tightened. "I know that Harley Quinn is in that room."

"And what? You going to arrest her? Sorry to say this, Batman, but she's been better in one day than you have been all month." Roy sneered. 

"She-"

"I don't care what she did in the past." He shoved the arrow even closer to his face. "I care about what you did."

Bruce's face was stony, but Roy wasn't going to relent to him. He was too used to getting what he wanted. It seemed that Bruce wanted to take Harley into custody for her past, arrest Roy for murdering the Joker (which was totally in defense of others in his opinion), and take Jason back to the Batcave or something to hide him away from the world. He was a controlling man, one who didn't know how to take responsibility for his actions, and Roy was fed up with him. He crossed the line.

"You won't be able to stop me from shooting you in time." Roy said grimly. "Now, back the fuck off."

Chapter Text

Beep.....beep.......beep......

His hearing was the first thing that came back to him after he clawed his way back into consciousness, and even then, it all sounded heavily muffled. He could tell that there were a few people around him, arguing with each other. Their voices were deep and masculine. The machine that was obviously nearby wouldn't stop beeping, but he couldn't yet identify what was causing the noise. 

Jason twitched his finger, and a higher, female voice joined the cacophony of sounds. He couldn't tell what any of them were saying, but he didn't care at the moment. What must have been a door slammed shut hard, and he felt hands on him soon after. Their warmth penetrated deep into his skin. One of the deeper voices started speaking again, but they were closer as though they were now talking to him.

His limbs felt like lead, and the pain that he had become accustomed to was now joined by an itchy sensation that covered his skin as though he had been covered in bandages. Who would have done that? His first thought was Harley, but the more masculine voices that surrounded him threw him off. None of the henchmen would have dared to heal what the Joker had done to him. Jason struggled to crack open his eyes, and the light nearly blinded him. After nearly a month stuck in the dark, black basement that the Joker had kept him in, he doubted that he would ever be used to bright light ever again.

A shock of red filled his vision, and his eyes slowly came into focus. Roy. Jason immediately slammed himself into a sitting position, but two pairs of hands pinned him in place. The other pair belonged to Harley Quinn, who surprisingly was sitting right next to him. A tube was situated down his throat, preventing him from speaking comfortably. Roy didn't seem to care, and Jason could see tears glistening in his partner's eyes. He wouldn't be surprised if there were some in his own as well.

"Hey, Jay." The archer's voice cracked.

Roy looked....rough. He was in his Arsenal costume and absolutely caked in blood, and on top of that, it looked as though he hadn't slept in days. Jason didn't want to think about whose blood it was that covered him. For all he knew, it could be his own. He tried to respond to his partner, but all that came from his voice box was a throaty groan.

Roy's eyes flicked upwards. "Harley, can you make sure....he isn't coming back?"

The older woman nodded her head seriously and stood up from her seat. Jason's eyes followed her as she left the room. What did 'he' mean? Who was Roy referring to? Ice gripped his heart. What if he meant the Joker? He didn't want to see the evil clown ever again, but realistically, he probably would. Batman would never let him die. Jason flicked his gaze back to Roy and forced himself to relax, but it was nigh impossible.

"It's okay now." Roy squeezed his hand, drawing circles on the back of it with his thumb. "You're safe here."

That obviously couldn't be the case. Who had been here earlier? Based on how his partner said it, whoever it had been sounded like they should be considered a threat, and Jason was tired of those. He wanted to relax, to not be in pain for once. If he had any feeling in his limbs, he'd be clutching at Roy, but he couldn't. He was pinned.

Jason tried to speak again, and if the way the archer winced was anything to go off of, it sounded pretty pathetic. He stared at Roy for a few more moments, entranced by his presence. It had been so long since he had seen a friendly, familiar face, let alone Roy himself, so he felt drunk just by looking at him. If he was anyone else, the blood might be startling, but Jason felt like it made him look stronger, almost like some sort of avenging archangel. He still didn't know where it came from. He didn't care anymore.

"I should probably call the doctor back in." Roy sighed.

Jason guessed that that meant that he was in a hospital then. He shook his head so quickly that the world spun around him. A whine tried to cut its way through his throat, but he clamped down on it instantly. Whatever was happening at the moment, he probably already looked like a weak, useless bastard. There was no point in making him seem even more so.

"The doctors are setting up x rays for you today." Roy shared a sympathetic grimace with him. "They said that they are probably going to need to rebreak some of your bones, especially those in your legs."

He had known deep down that something like that would happen if he ever got saved, but he still wasn't looking forward to it. Recovering from serious injuries was always a bitch. At the same time, he hadn't thought that he would ever be saved, so this was better, right? It had been so long that he had doubted that even Roy would come save him. But he had, and that was a beautiful, beautiful thing in Jason's opinion.

Roy's phone rang, but he switched it off and tossed it away without a second glance at it. Harley didn't come back for nearly an hour, set on ensuring that whatever threat they weren't telling Jason about stayed far, far away. He needed to know more. He didn't know if he would be safe this time tomorrow, and he didn't know who the fuck this threat was. The tube in his throat stopped him from communicating efficiently, so he couldn't even ask his partner what was going on. 

What had even happened? Clearly, Roy had come to save him, but he didn't remember being saved. He had bitten himself, ripped out an important artery intent on ending his life. Jason wasn't supposed to still be alive, and Roy's timing just seemed too...perfect. Perhaps he really was dead. Perhaps this was hell, and he was being tantalized with the one person he actually wanted to see. None of this was real. It was impossible. After being in the Joker's hands for so long, the only logical conclusion he had been able to come up with was that no one noticed his disappearance or no one cared. The archer's presence opposed that conclusion, so Jason didn't know what to feel. If Roy was real, great, but if he wasn't....Jason wouldn't be all too surprised.

The door opened gently not long after, and a doctor quietly entered the room. Upon seeing that Jason was awake, they flashed him an award winning smile and tapped their pen against their clipboard. After that, Jason unfortunately started to zone out. He didn't mean to, but his brain wouldn't let him concentrate on them any longer. Jason was vaguely aware of Roy confirming his name, allergies, and more with the doctor, and they quickly moved to sit next to him.

"...Jason?" They spoke lowly.

His head lolled to the side, his neck refusing to support it properly. He fought to rid his eyes of the glaze that had settled over it and to focus on the doctor. He made a small sound, one that sounded close to 'yes?,' but it was too garbled to be certain.

"I'm Dr. Johnson. We're getting ready for you in the x ray room." Their gaze was one full of sympathy. "I can already tell that you will require some surgery to correct the damage done to your legs and your ribs however, and we are keeping the oxygen tank hooked up to you for now. Broken ribs can be tricky injuries to deal with."

They continued speaking, but Jason didn't really care what they were saying. Some of the injuries that the doctor mentioned had happened so long ago that he had nearly forgotten about it and had learned to ignore that pain. If he was in fact in hell, maybe this was part of his torture. His eyes flicked over to Roy again. At the same time, if it was hell, why would his partner be there? He loved Roy, and seeing him wasn't punishment at all. It was the only life line he had to hold on to at the moment.

He closed his eyes tightly as more people entered the room. He didn't want to see the looks on their faces, so perhaps if he ignored them, he'd feel better. Jason could hear the familiar footfall of his archer walking alongside of him towards what he assumed was the x ray room. He grimaced. After the x rays were finished, he would be in for even more pain as the doctors would probably want to break a lot of his bones. They'd try to force him to take pain killers too, but he wouldn't have any of that bullshit. Even on a normal day, he wouldn't take drugs because of what had happened to his mother, and now, he was even more alert against threats. One thing he knew was that they'd have to get those drugs in him while he was kicking and screaming because he sure as hell wasn't going to cooperate with that.

"Hold still, please." The doctor from before placed a metallic blanket over part of his body before retreating to the safe area that the x ray operator always stayed at. "This should not take very long."

Chapter Text

"Bruce, I'm not going to try to arrest Roy!" Dick spat, his anger having grown to a peak.

"He's a murderer."

The other man scoffed, slamming the door behind him shut to keep the younger ears from overhearing (not that a single wall would be able to stop them or anything). "I wish it was me who killed him."

"Don't say that. I've raised you better than that." Bruce squeezed his eyes shut, his voice plain and emotionless. "You don't know how killing someone would change you."

"I know how not killing him has changed you!" Dick crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "The Joker deserved it. You...you should have let him die years ago when I almost did it."

"I couldn't have let that happen to my son."

He felt himself start to laugh at that. It grew in volume, quickly overtaking him. Dick had known for years that Bruce would never kill the Joker and that he wouldn't allow someone he cared about to do it either, but he didn't expect this sort of behavior from him. He should have. Besides, Bruce didn't seem to show the same...concern to his other sons, especially Jason, and Dick could barely believe just how blind he had been to it before now. His disinterest in Jason went far beyond his habits as a vigilante. Hell, none of them had cared enough to even check on Jason over the past month. If they had, maybe they would have been able to put a stop to this sooner.

"Well, maybe the Joker would still be alive if you had noticed that Jay had gone missing." Dick crossed his arms, scowling. "Roy would still have been off world if you had the fucking care to check on your son just once. It was such a fucking obvious crime scene."

"Watch your language."

"Fuck my language! If that is all that you care about in this conversation, you've gone fucking insane!"

Bruce turned to face his son. "Go to your room and calm down."

"I'm not a child."

"Then don't act like one."

"How the hell am I acting like a child? What, I don't want to arrest my best friend, and that makes me childish? Or is it that I don't feel bad about the man who tortured and killed my brother getting what he deserved?" Dick leaned closer. "Or is it that I'm not doing exactly what you want me to do?"

"Dick-"

"No, no, no. You don't get to 'Dick' me." He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes glittering with a frantic, almost feral sparkle. "I'm out. I can't be here anymore...And I'm taking the others with me."

Bruce's lip curled upwards. "You know very well that kidnapping is illegal, Officer Grayson."

"We both know that you do more illegal shit than I do. Besides, what are you going to do about it? Are you going to hurt me?" He turned on his heel, stalking away and pausing right before the door. "Oh, right, you won't. I'm not Jason Todd."

"We're leaving." Dick announced to the room, a backpack already slung over his shoulder. "Bruce's fucked."

"This isn't just Bruce's fault." Tim spoke from where he was seated, his eyes glazed as they stared off into the distance. "It's us too. It's so easy to put this all on him....But we can't. It's our fault too."

Damian snorted. "Clearly."

"Tim, trust me; I know." Dick squeezed his eyes shut as though it would make him stop seeing his memories of his brother. "But Bruce...I can't let any of you be around Bruce right now."

"That is hardly your decision to make." Damian scoffed. "Father-"

"Is off his rocker." The eldest brother interrupted. "Dami, I don't trust him."

He looked away. "I didn't say that I did either. Father's treatment of Todd....Well, I can't describe it."

Cass nodded in agreement. "So we go."

Dick squeezed Tim's shoulder. "Yeah," his voice cracked. "It's time."

"Where are we going to go?" Stephanie asked. She may not be Bruce's kid, but she wasn't about to leave the others.

"Bludhaven." He bit his lip.

"Jason?" His sister asked, raising her hand.

Dick tensed. "I don't feel good about leaving him in Gotham, but...neither Jason nor Roy would like that."

"They wouldn't." Cass agreed.

Just fyi...we all left B. In Bludhaven right now. Don't stay too long in Gotham....B's going to try something; I swear. He's gone mad.

Roy scowled as the message from Dick showed up on his cell phone. He wanted nothing more than to block him, ignore anything he said, but the archer knew that he was most likely right about Bruce. Roy wasn't sure why they felt the need to flee though. Bruce wasn't mad at them. To the best of his knowledge, they hadn't done anything to piss him off, but he supposed that something might have happened since. Nausea settled over him, threatening to overwhelm his senses. Why did everything have to be so fucked up?

Jason's fingers twitched in his grasp. The younger man had gone back to sleep at some point, and he and Harley thought that that was for the best. It probably didn't hurt as much while he was unconscious. Roy's leg bounced up and down quickly, and he was far too anxious to be able to get it to stop. The doctors were planning on rebreaking his bones soon. Healing from that would take a long time, and it would hinder their escape from Gotham. Roy wasn't an idiot after all. He knew that Dick was right and that Bruce would be coming back at some point. Just how many times would he and Harley be able to keep him away?

"Aww, sweetheart must be in a lot of pain." Harley frowned, his hand hovering a few inches above Jason's face.

"Yeah," the archer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And I don't feel like that's going to stop anytime soon."

"You think the Bat will be back?"

"Oh, definitely, if he's one thing, it's persistent." Roy said. "And that's the problem."

Harley paused for a few moments. "Say, can't you guys call each other for back up?"

"We're not particularly happy with Nightwing or the others either."

"I ain't talking about them. What about Supes? I don't think Mr. Goodie-Two-Shoes would approve of this." Harley hummed.

Considering this, Roy straightened his back. She did have a point, and he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of that beforehand. He must have had a lot on his mind. Nevertheless, Clark would certainly not like the obvious neglect that Bruce had shown to his son. Clark liked Jason, had liked him since the Robin days, and he would be able to get them out of Gotham fast if they needed to. Maybe he'd even be able to keep Bruce away for a little while.

"Yeah, I think I might do that." Roy said.

It would be important to get all the allies that they could before Bruce could spread whatever bullshit was going through his head. By not checking in on Jason, he had allowed the Joker to brutalize him, and to Roy, that was the same as Bruce physically being the one beating him. The world spun as the nausea gripped him again. For all he spoke about being a hero, Bruce could certainly be a shady bitch.

"I can watch him if you want to go do that now, cupcake." Harley flicked his eyes between him and his cell phone that was on the table beside them. "He ain't going to go anywhere."

His fingers fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking the whole way. "Yeah."

Realistically, he knew that bringing in the proverbial big guns would be a good way forward. Clark was...He was much more likely to be able to keep Bruce away from them. Maybe he'd even knock some sense into the man. Roy just didn't know what he would say.

Hey, Bruce's negligence almost killed Jason. Help please?

He shook his head. No, that wouldn't do, but at the same time, beating around the bush wouldn't do any good either. His eyes strayed over to the unconscious form of his partner. If only Roy had never gone on that damn mission, they wouldn't be in this position. They would have had a chance to catch on to what the Joker was planning before all this shit hit the fan.

Roy knew that Jason had already had enough issues with Bruce, but this was a whole new level of bullshit. His heart ached with sympathy as he thought about what his partner must have been thinking during that long month that he spent imprisoned by his worst nightmare. Would it be possible to piece that broken heart back together? Roy wasn't sure, but by hell, was he going to bring some extra strength duct tape with him.

He felt Harley's eyes rest on him, and it dawned on him that he had been standing there, frozen, for about a minute. "Yeah," Roy cleared his throat. "I'll get onto that now."