Archive of Our Own

“You gonna head home soon?”

“Yeah. I’ll just do a last check before I go.”

“He’s not gonna get out, Commissioner. His old friends made sure we fortified that cell to hell and back.”

“Better safe than sorry. God knows what he’ll do to Gotham if he gets out again.”

“If you say so.”

The coffee mug clinks softly against the desk as Jim sets it down. He feels around in his pocket for the keycard to the camera room. Still there in his right pocket, right where he left it. Glancing back at the guard behind him, he mutters something before leaving the room. “We can’t afford to let our guards down on him, Carson.”

A small beep echoes in the otherwise silent hallway as the door shuts behind him. The commissioner shivers slightly as the chill outside hits him. They really should renovate the place sometime. The guards won’t stand a chance if their aim is shaky from the cold.

Of course, they never expected that this old, decrepit Asylum would ever need to house another inmate again. But there wasn’t enough time to build another place to contain its one current inhabitant. Barely enough time to fortify the old defenses enough to be able to hold him in the Asylum at all. For now, until the new facility was built, they’d have to make do with Arkham Asylum.

Jim was never a big believer in fate or destiny, but the irony of the situation was a little too much for even him. Maybe fate really was a real thing. Maybe this old asylum was always just meant to contain the very threat now trapped inside its walls.

What cruel irony it would be if it was always meant to happen.

“Everything going well?” Jim asks, opening the door to the camera room.

“He’s right where he should be,” the guard on watch responds, nodding towards the camera feed.

Even now, after having seen this exact sight for what may be hundreds of times by now, it still sends a shiver down his spine.

“I still don’t know how none of us ever figured it out before now,” Jim mutters under his breath. “It feels so obvious when you look back at it.”

The guard hums. “The whole secret identity thing?” he asks. “Guess nobody ever cared enough to notice. It’s hard to believe a guy like that was running around rooftops and beating criminal ass. Everyone thought he was just an airhead with too much money and a big heart.”

“You sure he’s secure?” Jim blurts out, eyes fixed on the camera feeds.

Shrugging, the guard leans back in his seat. “You can see it for yourself. He’s still in there. Still all tied up. Your eyes don’t lie to you, Commissioner.”

Jim lets out a long sigh. “I know they don’t. Something just doesn’t feel right to me. I’ve got a gut feeling something’s wrong, is all.”

“You can check if you really want to. Peek through the hatch or something.”

“I think I will.”

“Just don’t forget protocol or anything,” the guard replies. “Would hate for him to get out because you were checking that he was still inside.”

The guard’s words still echo in Jim’s head as he stares down the first of many locked and reinforced doors leading to that cell. He knows he’s being paranoid, unreasonable, even. There was no possible way that the cell was empty. But years of experience in his line of work had taught the Commissioner to trust his gut.

So peek he did.

The hatch squeaks loudly in complaint as Jim lifts it slightly, viewing the cell inside.

What he saw inside, or rather, what he didn’t see, made his heart sink so low that Jim was sure it was seconds away from bursting out of his body entirely.

The cell was empty.

Jim’s hand shook as he fumbles for his radio. It springs to life with a crackle, and he doesn’t hesitate for a second before he starts speaking. “He’s not in the cell.”

The guard on the other end responds after a short pause. His tone was slow and unsure. He doesn’t believe him. “What do you mean he’s not in the cell? We’ve got him on cams right now. He’s there on the bed like he always is.”

“Then tell me why I’m looking into the hatch right now and I’m seeing an empty fucking bed?”

Looking back on it, I really should’ve noticed that something was off about him.

Jason shakes the water off of himself as he steps under an overhang. After the last two months of pulling Gotham City back together, tonight was just a little too quiet for his liking. On the surface, nothing was really wrong. It was a rainy night in Gotham, and the streets were filled with a little less crime than usual because of it. Looking down at the city below him, he scans the streets for signs of something, anything going on. Anything to tell him that his gut feeling about tonight being the calm before the storm was wrong.

The memory of that night keeps playing itself back in Jason’s head. The feel of the rifle in his hand. The grating sound of Scarecrow’s voice as he monologued. How he brushed off the feeling in his gut telling him that something just wasn’t right.

But nobody noticed. Or at least, nobody spoke up.

Maybe things would’ve been different if somebody did.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts as he catches a bright light out of the corner of his eyes. Whipping his head around to look, his eyes widen as he sees the familiar shape of the Bat-Signal lighting up the cloudy night sky.

Shit.

Jason’s feet were already moving before the next thought could form in his mind. His heart was beginning to beat faster and faster, the thumping in his ears blending with the sound of his footsteps against the rooftop. Nothing else mattered. He had to get to the GCPD headquarters, now. Kicking his motorcycle into gear, he begins to navigate towards Bleake Island.

He could hear the sound of confusion in the streets as he speeds through Grand Avenue. People wondering what the signal meant now after what happened two months ago. Some contemplating getting out of the city while they could. Jason couldn’t blame them for wanting to. The last time that signal was lit, there was so much damage caused to the city on top of what he had done that they were still rebuilding.

Stupid. We should’ve known that the old Asylum wouldn’t be able to hold him for long.

As he tears through the streets and nears the bridge to Bleake island, he can catch the brief silhouette of Robin grappling across the rooftops towards the GCPD headquarters as well. Good to know I won’t have to face the old man myself. Weaving through traffic was second nature to him, and the buildings on either side of the road briefly came into and out of his view. Every few buildings were still partially damaged. Some were still just a pile of rubble, even two months into rebuilding. Jason can’t help but feel a little guilt whenever he sees any wreckage still lying untouched in the streets of Gotham. It wasn’t all his doing, he knows that, but the fact that at least some of those buildings were in ruins because of him lingered in the back of his mind.

Maybe that’s why he’s trying so hard to protect the city nowadays.

Jason’s motorcycle grinds to a halt as he parks near the GCPD headquarters. He grips the grapnel gun tightly, hanging on as he’s jerked up into the air towards the rooftop.

“Took you a while.”

Robin was already on the rooftop, having beaten Jason there by just a few minutes. Standing just next to him was Commissioner Gordon, already looking slightly more pale and worried than usual. It was strange to see the usually calm and collected man rattled to the point of shaking, even if Jason could only just barely catch the tremors.

“You try making it here in less time from the other end of Miagani,” Jason retorts, putting the grapnel gun back in his belt. “My travel speed is the least of our worries right now, Birdie.” He turns towards the Commissioner. “Do we have any idea where he is?”

“Not a damn clue…” Commissioner Gordon whispers. “We don’t know when he got out, how he did it, or even which fuckin’ island he’s on.” He rubs his face with his hands as he continues. “I’ve already got people running searches of all three islands in choppers, and Arkham Island is on full lockdown. He has to turn up eventually.”

A familiar voice reaches the trio’s ears as the Commissioner’s radio crackles to life. “Not if he doesn’t want to,” Oracle interjects. “We can slow him down with the searches, but even with the Joker in control, there’s a good chance he won’t be found.” She waits for a moment before continuing. “I’ve contacted Nightwing about the situation. He’s coming over to help get Batman back under control.”

“Thanks,” Tim mutters, pacing as he spoke. “We’re gonna need all the help we can.”

“So,” Jason pipes up, absentmindedly checking his ammo. “What’s the game plan?”

The Commissioner looks at the Bat-Signal for a moment before turning his attention back to Jason and Tim. “We’ve gotta warn people first. Let ‘em know to stay safe and listen for more.”

“There’s already been an uptick in traffic out of the city since you put out the signal, Dad.” The faint sound of clicking comes through the radio as Barbara continues to monitor the city. “People aren’t gonna listen. They’re just gonna run.”

“It’s still worth a shot.”

“Everything’s quiet on my end,” Jason reports, watching the roads below him, illuminated with the headlights of the cars zooming by, undoubtedly headed out of Gotham.

The comms crackle as Barbara chimes in, confirming that she’s received the message. “Thank you, Hood. Keep watch on your area. We need to be able to respond the second we get a sighting.”

He’s not quite sure his heart has returned to its normal pace yet. He could still feel it going faster than normal. Shaking his head, he begins to scale a nearby building, tuning out the noise of the streets below. All he has to do is focus and watch. Keep vigilant just in case.

“What, so Batman’s evil now?” Nightwing’s voice crackles onto the comms, almost startling Jason as he scales the side of a building. Jason lets out a small scoff, finding his way to a stable vantage point before replying.

“Has been for a while, thanks for noticing.”

Dick chuckles slightly as he hears Jason’s reply. “Okay, that’s on me for not expecting that. But seriously. Babs filled me in on Batman being evil thing and what the game plan is. What happened?”

“Well,” Tim explains, “It starts with a Joker themed version of a prion disease, and ends with a Joker controlled Batman breaking out of the Asylum we put him in two months ago. And now we have to put him back in before he turns Gotham into his playground again.”

“So, Nightwing, you’re gonna be watching over Miagani. We’ve got Robin on Bleake Island and Hood on Founders’ Island,” Barbara says, briefing Dick on some additional details. “If you see Batman, do not engage. We can’t risk losing anyone. Try to tail him while the other two make their way to your location.”

“And Batman’s still in his normal gear? He won’t be in a purple suit or anything, right?” Dick asks.

“The gear he was captured in went missing not too long after his escape, so it’s incredibly likely he is,” she replies. “Just the normal stuff with a bit of damage and a hasty purple and green paint job. You should know it when you see it.”

There’s nothing but the faint sound of traffic below Jason to fill the silence. He can feel the tension in his body, even if there’s no hint of worry in his head. Logically, Jason knows there’s nothing to fear. He’s fought Batman before, albeit not like this. Logically, he knows he can handle it. All he has to do is avoid contact and tail Batman if he sees him.

It still doesn’t stop his heart from beating out of his chest.

Hours pass as all three keep careful watch on the city below. The streets emptied almost fully after the second hour, when people have chosen to either flee the city or take shelter indoors in fear of their former protector puppeteered by his greatest enemy. There was only the sound of the wind and rain to keep the three company, alongside the occasional hourly reports confirming the lack of sightings.

Jason speaks into his comms not too long after the 12:30am report. “We’ve got nothing from the GCPD helicopters either, do we?”

“None,” Barbara confirms.

Another hour goes by. The small clock on Barbara’s desk reads 1:30am. The reports come in as usual.

“Nothing on my end,” Tim reports.

Dick’s voice comes onto the comms. “My area’s empty.”

Jason reaches up to touch his helmet, beginning to speak into his comms. His mouth opens to give the all clear as well when a flash of purple and green amidst the darkness catch his eye.

He grabs his grapnel gun and swings towards the sighting, landing silently on the rooftop.

Barbara prompts him over comms. “Hood?”

His footsteps make no sound as he creeps closer towards what he thinks is Batman. His heart is beginning to beat faster and faster. His hands are shaking.

Keep it together.

Once he can no longer deny the fact that what he’s seeing is indeed Batman, Jason speaks into his comms, trying his best to hide the tremor in his voice.

“I found him.”

Jason can feel his entire body shaking now, hear the tremor in his breathing, listening in has his heart pounds faster and faster in his ears and the comms stayed dead silent. He’s been on edge ever since this whole thing started. The idea of Bruce’s body being puppeteered by him was just— Jason shook his head, forcing himself back into the present. I can’t deal with this right now.

“Heading to your location, Hood.” Nightwing responds. The sound of his motorcycle coming to life comes through the comms.

The streets are empty now. A rare sight in a city like Gotham, but then again, he’d managed the same thing just two months prior with a little help. The other two should have no trouble getting to his location quickly.

“Copy. I’m tracking him on foot now,” Jason replies, his voice still slightly shaky. “The two of you should have enough time to get to my location.”

“We should,” Tim says. “Heading towards you now.”

Jason looks down at the shadow moving beneath him. The chaotic splotches of purple and green paint scattered across the worn gear help him track the quick movements as he follows closely behind. He’s sure that he hasn’t made a sound the entire time, that there’s almost no way he could’ve been spotted, his gut is still telling him that something’s off.

He almost feels like he’s the one being watched here.

Barbara’s words echo in his head as he makes his way across the buildings. “We can’t risk losing anyone,” she had said.

There’s no signs of a trap. Not a single abnormality in body language or in his surroundings. Then again, this was the Joker he was going up against. Unpredictable by nature. But what other choice did Jason have? He can’t afford to lose track of Batman. It was already lucky enough that they found him before he could attempt whatever sick plan he has for Gotham. All he could do was follow close behind and hope Dick and Tim catch up in time if something goes wrong.

He looks back down at where Batman was just a moment ago. He’s gone.

No. No, no, no, no, no. I can’t lose sight of him.

Jason’s head whips around frantically, trying to find Batman again amongst the shadows of the alleyway below him. His heart is beating out of his chest. He runs a little further ahead, eyes scanning every bit of movement, every flash of purple and green that enters his view. Maybe Batman had just gone deeper in while Jason was lost in thought. Maybe—

The air is knocked right out of his lungs as his back is violently slammed into the floor. His eyes widen as the pain shoots through his body. He can feel the roofing material below him crack slightly. He might’ve even broken a rib or two. And yet, Jason can do nothing but watch, his body scrambling to recover from the impact, as an unnatural grin creeps onto Bruce’s face.

Shit, shit, shit— I can’t be at his mercy again. I can’t—

And then the Batman began to laugh. The sound of it rings out clearly in the silent alleyway, echoing off the tight walls. It sent a chill down Jason’s spine, and his skin began to crawl. He can see flashes of what the Joker did to him in his mind’s eye.

Pull yourself together, dammit!

Once Batman stopped laughing, the grin creeps back onto his face, and he began to speak, tightening his grip on Jason’s throat and keeping him pinned to the ground as he struggles.

“Well, well, well…” He lets out another laugh. “Lookie what we have here… You know, Bats is gonna flip out when he finds out that you’re out after curfew. But don’t worry… Uncle J will take good care of you while he’s away! I did such a good job with you last time. Just look at how you turned out!”

Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Don’t let him win.

Jason’s eyes narrow when the taunts reach his ears. “I should’ve been the one to put you six feet under.” He grits out, struggling against the pin. He’s shifting around, trying to find a way out, trying to regain some control. With a sharp twist, he forces both of them to begin grappling as his hand finds Batman’s throat and begins to choke him in return. But the only thing it does is cause Batman to laugh again, the high pitched cackling once again cutting through the otherwise silent night.

Breaking Batman’s grip on his throat, Jason instantly darts backward, putting distance between the two of them. His breathing is heavy, and his heart is already racing faster than it’s ever gone before. He can see flashes of his torture in his mind’s eye, feel the sensation of rope around his wrists.

I’m not there. I’m not there. I need to focus. I’m not there.

“Hood?” Barbara’s voice comes in from the comms. “Hood, status report.”

His footsteps sound out in the night as he begins to run, throwing glances behind him every few seconds to keep tabs on Batman. He can feel his breathing speed up.

He can’t hurt you. You won’t let him. You’re stronger. He can’t hurt you anymore.

“I got spotted—” he replies, not taking his eyes off Batman. “Had to engage.”

He’s jumping between buildings now, trying to throw Batman off his trail. Jason can hear the whooshing of Batman’s cape from behind him as he continues giving chase.

“Nightwing and Robin are only a few minutes out,” she tells him. He can hear a bit of worry in her voice. “Try to meet them in the middle at Kingston near Mercy Bridge.”

The gravel under him makes the landing a little rougher than usual as he drops down from the building above. Jason almost stumbles when, for a split second, he’s whisked away to his escape from the asylum.

NO. I’m not there. I’m not. Pull yourself together. You need to keep running.

Can’t afford to lose pace now. He just has to keep running.

“Copy.”

Another chilling laugh comes from behind him as Batman follows close behind, sticking the landing and keeping right on his tail. “Now, now, where are you running off to? It’s not safe out there, you know? You could run into traffic and get hit by a car or something! There’s no point in running… You’ll be safe back inside that asylum. It’d be just like old times!” He cackles as he trails off, throwing a few Batarangs in an attempt to trip Jason up.

Jason lets out a pained yelp as one of the Batarangs hits its mark, sending him sprawling to the floor. Before he could recover, Batman had already closed the gap, restraining him in a chokehold. Jason makes a feeble attempt to gasp for breath as he struggles against the hold, but the darkness is already beginning to creep into the edges of his vision.

No, no, no, no, no, no— Please no— Please— Not again—

“How do you think Bats is gonna react when he finds out what happened, huh? Me, killing you with his body! It’s not personal, I swear! I have nothing against you, really. He’s still in here, you know that? Watching everything I do! It’s ironic after all that time I spent cooped up in his head! Now he’s the one stuck inside!” He chuckles, tightening the chokehold. “It’s a shame you’re the one that has to die. And after all that effort you put in to get away from me in the first place!”

Please— Please no— Not again— Don’t do it, please—

Jason can hear a crackle as someone begins to speak into his comms. He can’t quite make out what they were saying by now, it’s all muffled and far away. He’s still putting up a struggle against the chokehold, his movements becoming less thought out and more instinctual, more reflexive. His hands claw at the armored gauntlet around his neck. He can barely make a sound anymore.

All he can see is the asylum. The feeling of wet cloth over his face, the darkness creeping into the edges of his vision, the giggles coming from Harley, the way the cockroaches would skitter everywhere no matter how many he tried to kill.

*I’m not there— I’m not— Please— Not again, please—

He makes one last struggle as Batman begins to cackle again. Jason can’t make out whatever he’s saying in his monologue. His mind is only getting cloudier as he desperately tries to get some air. He doesn’t even realise what he’s doing before he opens his mouth and screams with everything he can muster.

“BRUCE—!”

Let go of him.

Batman abruptly breaks the chokehold on Jason.

Don’t be so uptight, Brucie! I’m just having a little fun with my legacy… Besides, it’s my body now.

Jason collapses to the ground, still shaking as he catches his breath. He scrambles away from Batman, putting distance between them.

I won’t let you hurt him again.

Batman continues to stand there, unmoving.

Oh, Brucie. Don’t tell me you can’t see what’s happening already! You know, you’re way worse at this whole ‘stuck in my head thing’ than I was. At least I knew what was going on the whole time! I thought you’d be getting front row seats to all this!

“Hood! Come in, please!” Tim’s voice was frantic. “HOOD!”

Jason touches his helmet, his entire body still shaking as he speaks. “I’m alive. I’m alive. Batman stopped choking me. I don’t know why.”

“Get the hell out of there!” Nightwing exclaims. “We’re a block away, you just need to stay away from him for the time being.”

You won’t win, Joker. They’ll take you back into custody by the end of the night.

Hush now, Brucie. I need to get us out of this pickle you put us in. It really isn’t fair that I have to do all the work cleaning up the mess you made! It’s very rude to interrupt people, you know that?

The sound of motorcycles echo from around the corner. Light streams into the alley from the headlights. Jason staggers back to his feet, eyes still locked onto Batman. He’s waiting for something to happen. For Batman to lunge at him, to attack, to speak, to do something.

Batman looks down at Jason, making eye contact as the almost unnatural grin springs back onto his face. “Well, you caught me!” he laughs, feigning a surrender as he puts his hands up. “The big bad Bat really does care about you after all! But don’t be too mad, Jason… I did it for your own good! You were too attached to the man! It’s an unhealthy relationship.” He reaches for his grapnel gun while he speaks. “Well,” he starts, hearing the sound of motorcycles getting louder. “This was fun, kid, but Uncle J’s gotta go now. Don’t you go missing me though, I’ll be back soon!”

Dick and Tim speed into the alley on their motorcycles just as Batman is pulled up by the grapnel gun, vanishing into the shadows of the city. The two dismount as a chilling silence settles over the area, disrupted only with the still echoing sound of Batman’s shrill laughter.

“He got away, Oracle.” Dick mutters.

“As long as everyone’s okay, it’s fine. We can track him down again,” she replies.

Tim was already pacing around the alleyway, his mind running through every single possibility and brainstorming a million different strategies. “It’s fine. It’s fine. We can find him again. We will find him again.” He takes a moment to breathe. “Let’s catch back up with Gordon and coordinate something else.”

“Got it. Are we all good to go?” Oracle asks.

“…Jason?”

The laughter had long since stopped echoing around the alleyway.

Jason was only dimly aware of what was going on.

His heart was beating faster than it should be. He didn’t run. He didn’t fight. He just got off a motorcycle.

He could still hear it. The laughter. That grating voice. But it was the real thing this time. Not the laugh he’d heard mere moments ago as Batman escaped.

Jason backs away from Tim and Dick, his breathing getting faster and heavier.

Then the smell hit him.

This isn’t real. I’m not there. I got out. I’m not back there. I’m not. I’m not back in there.

He could smell the scent of mildew in the stuffy, suffocating air. The stench of something rotting hits him full in the face not too long after.

Stumbling backwards, Jason catches himself on a wall. He’s dimly aware of the fact that Dick and Tim were beginning to notice. Whatever they said to him never registered in his head.

I’m not in there. I’m not. He’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore. I’m not helpless anymore. This isn’t real. This isn’t—

The feeling of rope around his wrists sends Jason reeling. He claws at where they should be, his breathing getting faster and faster. His heart is beginning to beat out of his chest. There’s a feeling of terror building up in him like never before. The helmet is becoming too tight, as if it’s closing in on him as he continues panicking. He can feel the barbed wire around him again, and it’s getting tighter, squeezing the breath out of him.

No, no, no, no, no, no— I’m not there, I’m not—

Jason can just barely feel himself hit the floor as he loses his balance entirely.

Please stop, stop it, I’ll tell you anything, please, I’ll do anything you want, please don’t do it again, please—

The cockroaches are crawling up and all over him.

NO! PLEASE— PLEASE DON’T, PLEASE, NO—

He can feel the pain all over again. The searing pain that hit him the moment that red hot piece of iron touched his cheek. He wants to scream, to cry, to beg, anything to stop the pain.

HELP ME— PLEASE HELP ME— GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE GET ME OUT— BRUCE—

And then the pain vanishes.

Jason’s eyes dart around wildly, taking in his surroundings. The alleyway. Dick and Tim. His bike.

He can feel the floor beneath him.

His breathing is still fast, still panicked. His heart is beating a million miles a minute.

“Jason—” Dick reaches out, his hand hovering in the space between them, unsure of what to do.

“He’s still in there.” Jason blurts out. “Bruce. The Joker taunted me with it. He—”

“Jason, you need to calm down. Just take a few minutes—”

“I need some air,” he mutters, scrambling to his feet and beelining it to his bike.

“Jason, don’t—”

“I. Need. Air.”

The sound of his bike starting up drowns out any further protest from Dick. Without another word, Jason speeds away from the alleyway, the wind whipping past him as he does. He keeps driving through the city, going faster and faster as he does. There’s no concern for traffic anymore in the emptied streets. He only comes to a stop in front of his old school.

A quiet hiss sounds out in the quiet of the night as he takes his helmet off. Jason breathes in a lungful of fresh air. Well, as fresh as Gotham’s air could be. His heart was still racing, and his breathing was still quick, despite his best attempts to slow both down. He sits down on the grass, putting his head in his hands. He can feel tears stinging in his eyes.

“Goddamn it…”

“You heard what Jason said,” Dick mutters. “Bruce is still in there.”

“What do we even do? Can we get him out? Somehow help him take control back?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t even know if the Joker was lying to Jason about Bruce still being in there.”

Barbara chimes in as the two fail to piece together a sentence out of their thoughts. “It’s worth a shot,” she decides. “I’ll look over the footage from that night. Maybe I can figure out what made the switch happen.”

“You might be able to. We still have samples of the disease in Panessa Studios,” Tim points out. “I can send the information over if you need it.”

“That’d be helpful. Thanks.”

Dick pipes up again. “You really think there’s a shot in getting him out?”

“I’d rather try and know there was nothing we could do instead of spending the rest of my life wondering if I could’ve saved him.” Tim mutters.

The only sound that fills the room was the subtle sound of the scroll wheel as Barbara looks through the files. Details on the infection’s symptoms, observations gleaned from the four other infected previously under quarantine inside the studio, even the failed attempts at cures. But she knows that there’s really only one place to start looking.

Barbara clicks on the archived footage from that night online. She skips forward until she finally sees Bruce without his cowl.

Scarecrow’s grating voice immediately plays from the speaker. “Now the world can see you for what you truly are… A legend laid bare. Powerless. Human. Afraid.”

Bruce begins to struggle against his bindings as the fear toxin takes effect and Scarecrow withdraws his injector claw. Barbara’s eyes widen as she catches the slightest hint of bright Joker green overtaking Bruce’s normally blue irises. Her hand darts forward to pause the video as the sight sends her thoughts into a frenzy.

The only other person who didn’t show symptoms while infected was Henry Adams. Tim never got to find out why this was, but this… what does fear toxin have to do with the infection? Why did it suddenly cause a symptom to show up?

She instantly speaks into her comms to share her findings with the others. “I might’ve found something. Batman didn’t stay asymptomatic the whole time. I can’t believe I never noticed this before. His eyes turned green for a bit after he was injected with Scarecrow’s fear toxin, and his veins were practically popping out of his head. Do we still have some of it left?”

“WayneTech might’ve stored some,” Tim replies, “I’ll ask around if you need me to. Hood might also have some, but he’s not responding to anything.”

“If it’s not too much of a bother. But your first priority needs to be keeping a lookout for Batman. It’ll be easier to figure out a way to cure him if we don’t have to worry about him carrying out whatever sick plans he’s got in mind. I’ll see if I can find any other way we might be able to bring him back in the meantime.”

“Copy. Good luck.”

“You too. Stay safe out there.”

“You know I will.”

Barbara goes right back to combing through the heaps of information from Panessa Studios once the conversation comes to a close. The first place she goes to look is Tim’s failed attempts at curing the infection. Dead ends upon dead ends. And he’s not alone in his failure. She loses herself in her research, combing through the files, looking at scientific papers, medical records, anything that could even remotely be connected to the infection. Something, anything that might give her another lead. Just in case the worst happened and there was no longer any fear toxin they could get their hands on.

We already know that the infection is some mutated, variant form of Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease. A prion disease. Humans have known about these kinds of diseases for ages now. Scrapie, found in sheep and known to us since at least 1732. Not transmissible to humans— Or at least, we haven’t seen a case of it yet. Mad Cow Disease, named and discovered in 1986. Definitely transmissible to humans. Kuru. The name given to what we know as CJD by the Fore people of Papua New Guinea. We still don’t know a lot about these diseases, but we do know one thing.

We still haven’t found a cure.

Tim’s voice in her ears snaps her out of her thoughts. “I’ve got bad news. WayneTech doesn’t have any, and Hood still isn’t answering.”

Barbara’s heart sinks. “You sure?” she asks, a hint of desperation making it into her voice.

“Yeah. Lucius checked every corner. We got rid of it all after what happened on Halloween, and we can’t risk giving Crane access to the equipment so he can synthesise it again. But there’s still other ways, right?”

She doesn’t respond.

“Oracle. There’s other ways, right?”

Her mouth opens and closes as she tries to find the words to respond.

“…Right?”

“I… I don’t know,” she finally whispers.

The comms are dead silent as the realisation sinks in.

“We have to keep trying,” Tim finally mumbles. “There has to be something we can do.”

“I will.”

Barbara can do nothing but sit there for a few beats after the communication ends. The room is dead silent as she does, and she can hear her own breathing. Her hands shook as she takes off her headset, putting them onto her desk. She buries her head in her hands. And then a single thought bubbles to the front of her mind.

There has to be something.

She continues digging for information, desperately reading more about prion diseases, rereading the files Tim sent over, rewatching the archived live footage, looking over every single hint of a lead she could get twice, thrice, four times. The rest of the world isn’t her concern anymore. There’s only her, the research she’s doing, and the computer right in front of her.

“Hood. Oracle needs to know if you still have any fear toxin left over from Halloween.”

Tim’s message still echoes in Jason’s head as his breathing begins to settle. He’s still shaking from what he had to relive. He knows he’s being targeted.

I can’t let him win. Not again. Keep it together. He’s not in control here.

Jason wipes the tears off his face, pushing himself off the ground and brushing the dust off his clothes. He begins running through the list of his old storage locations in his head. Almost all of them were destroyed during Halloween or left in ruins after the Joker took control over Batman. He’s not even sure if he had any fear toxin stored with him in the first place.

He sighs, rubbing his face before putting his helmet back on. He’d better get looking if he wants to have a chance of finding any fear toxin he might still have.

The door hinges screech in protest as Jason pushes the door to his safehouse open. The air inside is stale and stuffy. He hasn’t been inside for months, same as all of his other safehouses and bases. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason spots a tattered and dirty militia banner, still hanging on the wall. He tears it down as he passes, and it hits the floor with a clatter.

I’m not here to be reminded of what I did.

Ducking below a cobweb, Jason makes his way to the back of the safehouse, towards where he remembered putting the safe. He opens the door only to find that the room behind it was in ruins. Rubble was strewn across the floor, and dim moonlight streams into a corner of the room through the hole in the roof. Jason pushes aside a piece of rubble blocking the doorway before walking further into the room.

He finds the safe on the floor, dented and open. There’s broken glass scattered on the floor just a few feet away.

Dammit.

Jason turns around and leaves the safehouse as soon as he sees the shattered vial. He marks off another safehouse in his mental map.

There’s only one left.

Bill jolts awake with a start, pushing himself off the floor. His head is throbbing. The room he’s in is dimly lit, and the air smelled of mildew. His heart is beating a mile a minute, and his eyes dart around, trying to find any clue as to where he is. He uses the wall to get back on his feet. The last thing he remembers was being hit in the back of the head.

“Anyone here?” he calls, turning every which way in an attempt to spot others.

“Well, just me and you…” A voice replies. The owner lets out a shrill laugh not too long after, which carries on for far too long. “Don’t worry, Officer Mckean. You’re in good hands.”

Bill scrambles backwards the moment he puts together the identity of the voice’s owner. “You— stay away from me!”

Batman laughs again before stepping out of the shadows. The grin plastered on his face is unsettlingly wide, and he slowly walks towards Bill, every step echoing in the quiet room. “Really, there’s no need to panic! This is your chance to become part of something bigger, something that I can’t do without the help of people like you!” His almost glowing green eyes pierce right into Bill’s own. “All you need to do is let it happen…”

Bill’s hand flies down to his hip, drawing his pistol and attempting to fire at Batman, who was still slowly walking towards him. The pistol clicks multiple times, and Bill finds that there was never a magazine inserted in the first place. “What do you want from me?! Where the hell am I?!”

“Well, since you’re so eager, I guess I’ll just cut to the chase.” Batman pulls a knife out from his cloak, brandishing it as he speaks. “Ever since I got out of that boring cell they put me in, I’ve been having a good think about what I can do to get their attention for my next big show!” He continues walking towards Bill, slowly backing him into a corner. “And then I had the idea to paint a big ol’ sign to point them all in the right direction! But normal paint just isn’t flashy enough. It doesn’t really draw the eye, you know? I had a vision to fulfil, and I decided that the perfect material to use instead of paint would be blood!”

Bill feels his back hit the corner of the room. His heart is beating a million miles a minute. “Stay the fuck away from me!” he screams, his eyes darting from side to side, trying desperately to find a way out. His hand reaches for the radio on his chest, fumbling with the button as Batman continues to slowly approach. The knife gleams in the dark room, catching the light from a lightbulb just barely hanging onto the ceiling.

Batman tuts, crouching down and holding the knife to Bill’s throat. “Just stay still and stay quiet…” he instructs, picking up the radio and chuckling under his breath. “I’ll leave a message for your friends over at the GCPD!” The radio crackles as Batman brings it to his mouth and begins to speak. “Hello, officers! If you didn’t realise by now, I happen to have one of your little friends here with me.” He lets out another shrill cackle. “Now, I want all of you to keep an eye on Wayne Tower. If you’re lucky, you might be able to find Officer Mckean here! Or, well, what’s left of him…” He presses the knife harder against Bill’s throat. “Batman out~”

Jason’s motorcycle comes to a stop in front of the last safehouse ten minutes later. He switches off the engine and gets off. Wracking his brain for the code, he approaches the door and punches in what he thinks is the right one. To Jason’s relief, the keypad beeps in confirmation, and the light turns green as the door swings open. He closes the door behind him before he walks further into the safehouse.

He has to search for the safe this time, having forgotten where he’d hidden it. Jason spends nearly half an hour turning the entire safehouse upside down in search of the safe. When he finally finds it concealed behind a fake tile, he immediately punches in the code, waiting impatiently for the door to swing open. Jason is met with a low beep and a red light. He tries again, punching in another code. The door swings open with a click, and—

“We need all hands on deck responding to the situation. We just got communication from Batman. He’s kidnapped Officer McKean and has him somewhere in Gotham with the implied intention to kill him. We’re trying to locate them with the GPS on Mckean’s bodycam. We need to get him back to safety as soon as possible.”

Tim winces as he spots the message written on the wall of the building. The large, crimson letters are still glossy, the blood dripping onto the pile of bodies below.

“I’ve got some bad news, Oracle,” he mutters into his comms. “We weren’t fast enough.”

“Dammit. Is Batman still inside?”

“Can’t confirm yet. I’ve linked up with Nightwing and we’re heading inside. Any news from Hood?”

“He’s been radio silent.”

“Got it. We’re heading in first then.”

The door comes down with a resounding bang, and Batman turns to face the two silhouettes in the doorway.

“Well, well, well… I guess blood does lure in birds after all!” Batman gestures around at the bloodstained, dimly lit room, still brandishing his now bloody knife. He looks over the two at the door, and his smile drops. “…Where’s the red one?”

“None of your business,” Dick snaps, drawing his escrima sticks. “You’re coming with us.”

The smile creeps back onto Batman’s face as he makes a decision. “…Fine.” He lets out another laugh before continuing. “I’m sure he’ll show up eventually… I won’t say no to a round two of the asylum with him after I deal with both of you.” He grins, pointing the knife at Tim and Dick. “So, are you two gonna start punching me, or what?”

Tim grits his teeth, gripping his bo stick tighter. “You really don’t know when to shut up,” he grinds out, preparing to attack.

Dick lunges at Batman, striking him with his escrima sticks. The crackle of electricity rings out loud and clear in the room as Dick turns up the strength. “Be careful what you ask for,” he mutters, blocking an attack and retaliating with one of his own.

Batman begins to laugh as he dodges attack after attack, trading blows with Dick and Tim. The smile on Batman’s face remains as wide as ever despite the injuries beginning to rack up on all three. “Come on!” he goads, slashing at the air before him. “You can do better than that! I know Bats taught you better!”

Tim ducks beneath a Batarang, jumping back and repositioning himself. “You won’t win,” he insists, coordinating an attack with Dick and knocking Batman into a wall.

Batman gets back up from the floor, the grin still plastered on his face. “I don’t need to!” he laughs, pulling a detonator out of his belt. “I just need to survive this.”

A rapid beeping sound begins echoing inside the room as Batman presses the detonator and begins to cackle, holding his stomach. “Go on! I’m sure you Birdies will find a way out!” The beeping is only getting faster as the seconds pass by, and the noise begins to blend with the sound of Batman’s shrill laugher.

Dick rushes back towards the entrance, grabbing Tim and dragging him along. Just as they were steps away from the doorway, a loud bang reverberates in the room as a thick metal barrier slams down onto the floor, closing off the only exit remaining. Tim’s eyes widen as he registers what just happened, and his mind rushes to find another way out.

“THE WALL! HEAD FOR THE—”

A thunderous explosion engulfs the building just as Tim calls out to Dick, drowning out the cackling, the beeping, and Tim’s words. The building itself is left in ruins as the dust settles. Rubble is strewn around the area, and there is nothing to fill the silence but the sound of the rats skittering away from the wreckage.

“Robin, Nightwing, status report! Robin?!”

Jason’s head whips around as the sound of the explosion rings out in the otherwise quiet city.

Shit, shit, shit, shit—

He pushes his motorbike harder towards the building, speeding through the streets of Gotham as the noise dies down and he’s left with only silence.

Barbara’s voice interrupts the silence as she speaks, a desperate tone to her voice. “Hood! Come in, please! Nightwing and Robin aren’t responding to comms! How far are you from the building?!”

He touches his helmet, responding as he steers around a tight corner. “I’m going as fast as I can. My ETA’s at two minutes. What’s the read on their vitals?”

“I— I don’t know, nothing’s showing up! You’re going in blind here, Hood. I’m sorry.”

“I can handle it.” He mutters, veering down into a shortcut.

Jason skids to a halt as he arrives near the wreckage a minute later. The road was blocked with the debris. His heart is beginning to pick up speed as he makes his way closer to the building.

“—finds out what you look like right now, all bloody and broken!” A shrill cackle rings out in the otherwise quiet area. “Oh, I just can’t wait to find out how he reacts! he can’t see you right now, he’s way worse at this whole ‘being in my head’ thing than I was with him, to be honest, but the look on his face when I tell him is gonna be priceless! His precious little Birdies, crushed and butchered with his own two hands!”

Goddamn it!

Jason picks up speed, pushing his body to its limits as he dashes towards the wreckage, vaulting over a large piece of rubble. A chill runs down his spine when he finally sees the scene.

Batman stalks closer to Nightwing, his cloak fluttering in the light breeze beginning to pick up. “Let’s start with you first~” he taunts, gesturing at Dick with the tip of his knife. “You think Bats will like it if I play with my food for a bit?” He grins, getting even closer as he punctuates the silence with his laughs. “Oh, who am I kidding… It doesn’t even matter! This just makes it more fun for me…”

Jason’s hands fly down to his sidearms, hastily piecing them together into a rifle. He takes aim as Batman slowly steps closer to Nightwing, one step at a time.

A gunshot rings out as Jason fires his shot, knocking the knife out of Batman’s hand. “Don’t you get tired of kicking people when they’re down?” he taunts, readying himself for a fight.

Batman instantly whips around to make eye contact with Jason, his green eyes piercing Jason’s blue ones. The grin on Batman’s face only gets wider as he sees Jason slowly approaching with a rifle.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” he greets, dropping his focus on Dick entirely as he gets ready to face the new threat. “Took you a while, but I guess the best really is saved for last! Look at you, all grown up! Say, I did do a fine job with you back then, didn’t I? I saw everything you did, you know. That whole Arkham Knight thing. What a MASTERPIECE! I gotta say, from one mastermind to another, you did an amazing job! You turned out nice and evil, just like your dear old Uncle J!”

“You need to learn to shut up.” Jason grits out, taking aim once more. He looks right into Batman’s eyes as he speaks, his voice carrying over the battlefield. “I’ve got a lot to atone for, but I’ll be damned if I let him get to another one of us, Bruce. That son of a bitch already got to me. That’s more than enough. I can’t let him get to you too.”

Batman lets out a delighted laugh as the words reach his ears. “Aww, isn’t that just sweet,” he coos, drawing a Batarang. “He’s not listening, Jason. It’s my body now.”

“Oh, you’d better get your taunts out now while you still can, Joseph.” Jason replies darkly, ducking beneath the Batarang.

Batman’s eyes widen as the name reaches his ears, and he freezes in place, the smile dropping from his face.

“What?” Jason tilts his head innocently. “I thought we were on first name basis now.”

He lunges at Batman, tackling him away from Tim and Dick. The two grapple on the floor as they each try to overpower the other. Batman manages to kick Jason off, sending him a couple feet away onto the floor. The grin creeps back onto his face as Batman regains his composure. “Well, I guess we are! Give it your best shot, Jason. Uncle J’s waiting…”

Jason reaches into his jacket pocket, revealing the vial full of fear toxin. He dashes straight towards Batman, shattering the vial at his feet as the fear toxin engulfs the both of them. Knocking Batman to the floor, Jason pins him down as he begins to freeze up, his eyes widening and his veins darkening. The fear toxin courses through the two men as the rest of it slowly dissipates into the air.

“There’s no point in fighting back, Joseph.” Jason tells him, still pinning Batman to the floor. He can feel the toxin take effect on him too. The feeling of rope around his wrists is beginning to get realer and realer. “Bruce will take control back. Gotham will forget you. You’ll die again in the ruins of your own twisted plan, forgotten and unremarkable. We’ll rebuild everything all over again, like we have a million times over. Every brick that you’ve ever touched, every single molecule of this city that’s ever known your existence, every single mark you’ve left on Gotham City, we’ll fix and we’ll make it stronger and better. The people will forget you, and one day not even the buildings will remember you were ever a threat to them.”

Stay focused. He is not in control. You are. You’ve got him pinned to the ground. He can’t hurt you. He won’t hurt you. You won’t let him. You won’t let him hurt anyone.

Batman’s smile begins to falter as two forces wrestle for control over his mind. “You’re talking crazy!” he retorts, forcing a laugh. “You’re here, aren’t you? I made you who you are! The Arkham Knight, risen from the ashes of a dead Robin. I marked you for life! You’re my Robin, my creation! The scar on your face tells everyone exactly what you are. You’re my legacy, Jason!” The confidence seems to return to his expression as the sentence passes his lips. “Even if I lose here, you’ll still be kicking around with my name written all over you!”

Jason can feel the cockroaches crawling over him as he opens his mouth to reply. The feeling of barbed wire tightening around his body is starting to make itself known. He can smell the damp, stuffy, mildewy air that was a constant in the abandoned asylum. He tightens his grip on Batman’s throat. “Bullshit. I made myself. You’re nothing but a part of my past. Face it, Joseph. You’re nothing but a ghost hanging on to relevance, refusing to move on when everything and everyone around you is already beginning to forget you ever existed. Your real body is rotting somewhere, six feet under in a forgotten grave that nobody visits. You’re just another nutjob in a revolving door of nutjobs that Bruce has to wrestle back into their padded rooms. And when he inevitably wins, when you finally go back to hell where you belong, he’ll forget all about you when the next nutjob breaks out to carry out whatever sick plan they have in mind.”

The smile doesn’t return to Batman’s face as the words sink in. The battlefield is dead silent. Jason can catch the slightest flickers of blue beginning to creep into Batman’s eyes.

HOW DID HE KNOW?! WHERE DID HE FIND IT?!

You underestimated him, Joseph. You underestimated all of them.

SHUT UP, YOU! THIS ISN’T HAPPENING! GOTHAM ISN’T FORGETTING ME! THEY CAN’T! I’M THE CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME! I TOOK OVER THE HEAD OF THEIR GREATEST PROTECTOR! I BROUGHT THIS CITY TO ITS KNEES!

They can, and they are. Gotham is resilient. She rebuilds and she heals. Jason’s right, Joseph. The buildings themselves will forget you one day. We’re not playing your game anymore.

YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING, BRUCIE! I’M IN CONTROL HERE! YOU CAN’T EVEN SEE WHAT’S GOING ON, LET ALONE TAKE BACK CONTROL! YOU REALLY SHOULDN’T JOKE AROUND LIKE THAT! SHARING IS CARING! WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET ME HAVE A GO BEHIND THE WHEELS FOR A BIT LONGER?!

It’s over, Joseph.

NO IT’S NOT! DON’T BE SILLY, BRUCIE! I’M NOT EVEN CLOSE TO LOSING! I STILL HAVE YOUR BODY! I STILL HAVE—!

Jason tenses up as Batman’s eyes snap open and he begins to thrash against the pin. He readies himself for another struggle as his heart sinks, expecting the worst. He uses all his strength to hold him still, forcibly making eye contact.

And blue meets blue as Jason finally manages to get a look.

“You’re back.” Jason lets out a sigh of relief, releasing his chokehold on Bruce. Turning around, he calls out to the other two, still recovering from the explosion. “He’s back!” He gets off the man, offering him a hand.

Bruce takes it, and Jason pulls him up. “Good to be back,” he mutters.

A long stretch of silence falls over the battlefield as the four vigilantes look over the wreckage.

“I’m sorry, Jason. For everything.”

“…I know you are.”