Work Text:
The fourth time he rewatched the first tape, he thinks there's a chance that he's missed something. That there's a mistake or a clue in the background. That Joker slips up and says something he shouldn't have. That Jason is able to get a signal out.
By the time the tenth tape arrives, he knows that the rewatches are punishment.
"Do you still think he's coming for you?"
The Jason on the screen is limp and dirty. He has been moved from a chair to a table and is lying prone, arms pinned to his side, legs tied separately and securely. His clothes are the ones he was redressed in from his Robin suit and they are beginning to look worn past repair.
"Yes. He's going to find me." Jason looks defiant and sure, but this is only tape number three. Bruce knows better.
Jason made it until the end of the fourth tape before crying out for Batman. Bruce doesn't know how long the session was going before the recording started. He doesn't know what is happening in the downtime between the recordings. He doesn't know what the environment is like in the room - is it stifling and warm? Is it cold and damp? Does Jason's throat hurt with each breath or is he thankful for the moments between hits?
He doesn't know he doesn't know he doesn't know.
Joker is hovering in the top right corner of the screen, bent over Jason and flipping a knife back and forth. Joker is grinning and staring directly at the camera, but Jason has his eyes closed. Bruce can tell that he is upset at himself for calling out and he wants to reach for his boy and tell him it's okay. There is no shame in asking for help and there is no way he wouldn't be there if he could.
The walls behind Jason's head are blank and nondescript. There is no background noise. The way that Jason's hands clench are in response to pain and are not a code.
It takes longer to get there than Bruce thought it would, but the dread every time he watched a new tape was getting deeper.
"Oh, pumpkin," Joker sighs, cheek pressed against Jason's and then he's yanked backwards out of view. Bruce wants to stop the recording, as if by not watching he will protect Jason from what's about to happen.
There is only one overhead light, the table is not secured to the floor and it moves several inches as Jason's torso is thrown against it and into the frame.
"This isn't the romantic getaway that I'd hoped for, but it's just so hard to get vacation time when you're swamped at work!" Joker's hand is pressed against Jason's back, rucking up the shirt, revealing the whip wounds that haven't yet healed fully. He watches as Joker reaches around Jason's waist and he watches as Jason braces himself and tries to bite back his sobs.
"You can cry," Joker croons into Jason's ear, but he's looking at Bruce. "In fact, I think the tears make you prettier."
Nearly every tape after that opens with Jason in a state of undress. Sometimes with only his shirt missing, sometimes he's fully nude. It does not matter at this point, the torture is inevitable and nothing Bruce does is making a difference.
He can tell when Joker is frustrated at Jason's defiance, he can tell when he's excited by it. Joker doesn't have an end game here that Bruce can figure out except that he wants to break Batman. If he could find where they are, where Joker is keeping his son, he's not sure what he would do.
Dick walks in as he is completing his third rewatch of the latest tape. He makes a startled noise like someone punched the air out of him. "No," Dick gasps, gripping the back of Bruce's chair. "No, why would he—no."
Bruce drags his gaze from the screen, where Joker is smiling and panting and Jason is gritting his teeth, and turns towards Dick. "There aren't any windows," Bruce says and then takes a deep breath. He feels heat behind his eyes and he looks back at the screen. "I can't even see the door."
Jason is dressed in new clothes, sitting in front of the table. There's a plate of fast food in front of him—a hamburger, some fries, the wrapper is missing—but his arms are tied behind his back. Joker enters the room and tucks a napkin in the neck of Jason's shirt and then pats his head. He takes a seat next to him and lifts the burger up. Jason leans forward and takes a bite. Before he can take another one, it is moved out of his reach.
"And what do we say?" Joker sing-songs.
"Thank you," Jason says quietly. He is no longer flinching.
Bruce is staring at the package that Gordon is holding out. He doesn't want to take it, he knows what this means.
It's lumpy and stained, and there's a scrawled "BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!!" across the envelope. He takes it from Gordon's outstretched hand.
"We are combing through the security footage to see who dropped it off, but right now we don't have any leads."
Bruce inclines his head, turns without speaking, and goes back out into the night.
Later, after he has finished patrolling, he is in the cave. He has removed the suit and is in sweats, eyes burning and dry. Inside the package is a ripped piece of red fabric wrapped around a domino mask like a bow.
The recording opens with Jason hanging in the center of the room (no distinctive building materials). There's the echoing of a crowbar being dragged against the floor (no waves in the background, no train whistle he can detect). "Admit it and this will all be over," Joker is saying and Bruce puts his fist to his mouth, pressing hard against chin. "He's not coming to save you. Say he's not coming."
Jason, his Jason, is hanging in the center of the room (only one light, not sure if it's on the electrical grid, could be on a generator). "He's…" Bruce can tell that Jason is tired and his arms ache to reach out and comfort him. "He's not coming."
The screen starts to blur. Jason is kneeling. Jason is on the floor. Joker is pouring gasoline on his child. Joker is laughing.
Jason whimpers as the flames catch.
Bruce leans forward and puts his head on the desk and cries.
"Do you regret it? Do you regret taking me in?"
Bruce is sitting in his study, slumped at his desk and steadily working his way through a bottle of whiskey. He looks at the corner of the room. Jason is twelve, bright and whole.
"I wish I did." Bruce says and then drinks the last of the whiskey in his glass. Jason stares at him, silent and young, before vanishing back into the darkness.