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Tim should've known nothing was ever simple in Gotham.
He should've realized something was wrong the second he saved that lady. But he didn't. He just did what he was supposed to do, he saved the person and was about to ask questions later but then he heard the mocking and unmistakable voice of Harley Quinn as he was knocked out cold by a mallet once he tried to turn around.
---
The first few days weren't so bad. But then again, Tim's standards were concerningly low.
He got woken up by a splash of freezing water to the face and was greeted with the sight of an unfortunately familiar smile.
"Rise and shine, boy blunder! Wait...never mind-that was the first one. But don't you worry, you'll get your own nickname!"
Tim groaned as he looked around, his mind already analyzing his surroundings. The old Arkham Asylum ruins. He had done his fair share of research on it (Training, Bruce said) but to actually be here...it was unsettling. But he couldn't let the clown know that, no, he had to be stubborn.
"From you? Yeah, no, I think I'll pass, Smiles."
The boy couldn't deny it, he felt a flicker of fear when he saw the Joker's smile falter into a sneer, bracing himself for the worst. But then all he heard was crazed laughter, seeing the clown wipe a fake tear from his eye. "Oh, the fire. You will be a fun toy to play with! Dare I say, better than the last one?"
Those words made him sick. But he couldn't think about it now; now, he was being set up on a metal table, feeling it being cranked upwards.
"Now, first order of business." The Joker crooned, making his voice sound like some businessmen that Tim would often overhear Bruce talking to at some event. "Who is dear old Batman?"
Tim spat in his face in response.
That earnt him a backhand.
But that doesn't matter. He should focus on potential escape routes, what he'll do after he's back home. Annoy Barbara and Dick, maybe even get a raised eyebrow from Alfred.
Bruce was so going to lecture Tim for hours after he escaped, something about coming back to Wayne Manor late.
Tim would escape, though. He knew he would.
He just had to use his stubbornness to deny everything that clown threw at him.
No matter how much it hurt.
---
What Tim woke up to the day later was just ridiculous. Like those nuclear family ads that he would see in the TV, barbeque and all. The Joker was dressed in an apron that simply said 'KISS THE COOK' while Harley pinched his cheeks before skipping over to a camera, winding it up to show the Joker's cruel face.
Sure, Harley pinching his cheeks hurt, but nothing could've hurt more than what happened next.
The Joker threw of the lid of the barbeque, and Tim winced, expecting something messed up like dentures covered with barbeque sauce, only to see the clown lick his lips in a sadistic manner, his fingers moving like an excited child before grabbing two metal clamps attached by wires, snapping it once just to make a statement before placing them on each side of the metal table where Tim was laid.
Then the electricity started.
Tim tried to get away from the table, but the constraints held him in place. Kept him in place as he screamed, tried to move his back as far away from the metal as he could but it was no use. He was trapped, left to scream and cry as the laughter barely covered his pain.
"This could all stop if you would sing for me, birdie. Who is the man behind the cowl?"
"No." was the weak reply.
The Joker's voice was more strained, though he kept up the light tone. "Come on, puppet boy! Can't keep trying to pull your strings!"
Tim managed to resist. Which was a surprise since the electricity still had him shaking. "I'm not a puppet...I'll move when I want to..."
He got an extra zap for that.
That felt more painful than anything he's handled. But it's okay. Bruce, Barbara, someone will come if Tim couldn't free himself.
---
Tim can't tell when he broke. He couldn't count the days anymore with all the shocks and the green serum the Joker pumped into him, hour, after hour, day after day, question after question as his hope for rescue deteriorated.
"Bruce...Wayne. Bruce Wayne is Batman."
Tim muttered, his head hanging low. He heard the clown clapping in joy.
He failed.
It was his fault.
So he would die now, right? Just like Jason, alone, nobody to save him.
"You know, since you let me on that little secret, I'll share one of mine. I always liked you in particular. The first one was too much of a chip from the old Bat block, get what I mean? The second, well, he went kaboom! But you...you riled good ol' Batsy. Made me feel fatherly." As if that final word was the punchline, it was followed by maniacal laughter and an another shot of the serum.
Tim didn't want to go back now. He couldn't.
---
Tim was awoken by the laughter again. He forced himself to look at the Joker, but the clown was just grinning not laughing.
Then a giggle forced itself out of Tim's throat. And then another and another and another.
Why couldn't he stop? He wanted to stop. Stop the pain, stop the laughter.
No, that wasn't right. He liked the laughter. He was where he was supposed to be. With Mommy and Daddy, laughing, having fun.
He felt a wide smile grow on his face as Harley Mommy laughed and clapped while the Joker Daddy patted him on the shoulder.
"Look at you, J.J. You're just making our hearts melt."
The laughter of three rang through the ruins of Arkham, reflecting the ruins of the boy on the metal table.