Chapter Text
6:37.
The time when I got the call.
6:38.
The time as I tore down the street of Gotham.
6:39.
The time as I desperately willed my bike to go a little bit faster.
6:40.
The time when I knew I was too late. Too late to do anything. He was already gone.
6:45.
The time when I pulled up to the concrete building. I dropped my bike, and ran to the door. Locked.
6:46.
I threw myself at it. Again. And again. And again. And again.
6:47.
I broke open a window- sorry, not sorry, Bruce- by flinging myself through it.
6:48.
I checked the rooms. Locked. Locked. Locked. Every. Single. One. Locked.
6:49.
My shoulder was beginning to throb from bashing into doors.
6:50.
One last door. I tried the knob. It turned. It turned. I stepped inside, looking. Looking for any signs of life. Signs of him. None.
6:51.
I closed the door behind me. And saw him. Standing there. Watching me. Smiling like The Joker. Oh wait, he was The Joker.
6:52.
He stood, laughing, enjoying the worry gathering behind my eyes.
"Looking for someone, darling?" He chuckled, tilting his head at me.
"Where is he?" My voice was more shaky than I wished.
"Why don't I show you?" He burst out laughing. "Please, follow me."
I debated whether I should put a bullet in his head, or follow him. Every second mattered in finding him.
6:56.
The Joker opened a door and gestured grandly for me to step into the room. I guess I'm stupid, because I did. With a shriek of laughter, Joker slammed the door behind me.
7:00.
I knew I was screwed. And so was Jason.
A small table. Brown, like the floor in the Wayne Mansion.
A bed. Hard, like the ones at the mental asylum where they kept me for two years.
A TV. Dead, like I would soon be.
A little window. Empty, like my hopes to save Jason.
A bug on the wall. Stupid, like me when I fell into Joker's obvious trap.
A single lightbulb on the ceiling. Flickering, like the world would for the others when they found what I had done. I looked down at my hands. Shaking, like my resolve.
I closed my eyes. Darkness, like the stuff that had consumed my soul when we'd found that Jason had been kidnapped.
The TV flickered on, showing a chair in a dimly lit room. Someone was on the chair, tied and gagged. The camera focused. The rope was barbed wire. The person tied was Jason.
My heart leaped. He was here! Alive, and close by!
My heart sank. I was here. Alive, but for how much longer?
Thud.
My eyes focused back on the TV screen. Someone was in the room with Jason. Someone had just struck him across the chest with a crowbar.
Someone was screaming in anguish, crying out for the person with the weapon to 'stop!'. Someone was sobbing, promising that they would be good. Someone was gasping for air, every breath a fight to live. Someone was dying, little pools of their blood dripping on the floor.
Someone was in a different room, watching on a screen. Someone was in a different room, watching their whole world getting pummeled to death. Someone was in a different room, ripping out their hair, screaming, yelling, crying, wishing they could take their place. Someone was trying so hard, to get out of their room. Someone was trying so hard to rescue their friend.
No one was listening.