Now:
"Stop!"
The scream rang out across the bloodied floor. Jason's fists dripped red, as red as the anger inside of him. A cry was bubbling up in his throat like vomit.
Nightwing stood at the other end of the roof. His face was wet.
"Don't do this," he pleaded. "Please..."
Jason barked out a hollow laugh. He kneeled down onto the cold steel until he was face to face with his victim.
"Jason..." Batman coughed.
Jason smiled, a stretched out, thin smile. He was so tired...
"It's Red Hood," he corrected snarkily. "You have no right to say that name anymore."
"Jason," Batman repeated. Jason felt a fire start in his stomach.
He struck Batman once more, savouring the feeling of the punch, the scream let out by Nightwing a few meters away.
Nobody has hurt more than him.
Nobody.
Nightwing ran forward. "You don't have to do this. Please," he said, "don't!"
But Jason had the barrel of his gun to Batman's temple. He let Batman get accustomed to the cold of death on his forehead, like a mark. (And there was an imaginary timer, counting down to an imaginary bomb, and maybe an imaginary saviour who would come too late anyway.)
"Tell me, Bruce," he spat. "Did you think it would end this way?"
"... It doesn't have to end at all," Batman said softly.
"It has to!" Jason shook unsteadily. "It has to end! I don't want to- I can't take this anymore!"
Nightwing put a hand on Jason's shoulder.
"Jason," he choked, "how did it end up this way?"
Before:
"...Jason?"
He cautiously moved towards the dark figure, batarang in hand. Tim thought of everybody he thought would be here, and decided that his dead predecessor was not one of his suspects.
"...Robin."
Tim flinched. The stories he'd heard of Jason Todd hadn't all been pleasant, sure, but somehow he'd still imagined someone powerful. Someone strong.
(This man was broken).
"How... I thought you were dead," he whispered.
The man clucked his tongue in a disapproving manner. He moved closer to Tim, who instinctively moved back.
The barrels of his guns shone in the dark.
Jason cocked his head. "I am dead," he said. "Batman buried me with you."
Stepping backwards, Tim felt his heel touch the wall. He was cornered inside this warehouse, with a possibly maniacal ghost of the previous Robin.
And he looked so angry...
"Don't be afraid," Jason said, with a sarcastic ring in his voice. "You're not the one I want."
"Who do you want?"
His small question seemed to hit Jason with the force of a wrecking ball. Sucking in a breath, Tim reached his hand in his utility belt and grasped a flash grenade.
Just in case. Because this was Jason Todd, but at the same time, it was not.
"Go back to him," Jason snapped. He noticed Tim reaching for a weapon. "Go back to him, and tell him I'm alive. Tell him to meet me in the warehouse."
"Which one?" Tim questioned, looking uneasily around the warehouse he was in currently.
A grin grew on Jason's face. "He knows which one."
Before:
"Hey!"
The man fell with a loud thump onto the pavement. He stood back up again and glared at the person who had knocked him over.
"Hey, you!" He said indignantly. "Ya gonna apologise or what?"
Jason's eye twitched. The first person he'd spoken to once leaving Ra's base had to be an idiot. An ugly one, at that.
He glared pointedly at the man, and he seemed to get the message. Jason continued walking along the street, breathing in the smoky air, trying to get the blood in his veins flowing again. But everywhere he looked was shadow, blackness tinted with rage, a blood red only created by the devil and his crowbar.
He walked quicker, trying to drown his thoughts with his heavy footsteps. But the screams never stopper coming, never ceased.
Then he realised the screams weren't in his head at all.
"St-stop... please," a girl cried.
He rounded the alleyway to face two men, blood on their fists. A girl was crying between them.
"Stop," Jason said. His voice sounded loud and big in the small corner of Gotham.
The bigger, more surly man cast a dirty look in his direction.
"None of your business," he spat. "Just go on home to your mommy and daddy, and we can spare you a whole lotta pain."
And that was when Jason realised Gotham would never be the same. It would always, now and forever, be laughing at him.
That was the first time Jason killed someone, directly, efficiently. But not efficient enough.
"Sorry Bruce," he whispered with the last shred of remorse in him. "But guns will have to do."
Before:
"Again."
Talia raised her sword and struck down at him. He rolled to the side, panting heavily.
His body... it felt so foreign.
He reached with his hands for her legs, and pulled down. She tumbled to the ground, but landed on top of him, sword pointed at throat.
"Enough, Talia!" Ra's ordered from his chair.
Jason rubbed his neck as Talia withdrew. He punched the shiny wooden floorboards, ignoring Talia's offer to help him stand.
"Jason," Ra's Al Ghul said.
Jason flinched. No matter what this man said, Jason did not owe him anything. Did not owe him his new life, or his new skills.
Ra's Al Ghul was the enemy. Jason was not the enemy.
He just wanted to go home...
"You are distracted," Ra's continued. "Your thoughts are occupied by far away places you will never reach."
"Shut up!" Jason growled. "I can leave any time I want!"
"But you never leave, because you are afraid."
Ra's stepped off his dais and crouched down next to Jason. Jason's eyes, now Pit green, stared at the floor.
"I thought I was doing Batman a service," Ra's said softly, "bringing you back to life. Now I see it was a mistake, for both him and you."
Unwanted tears pricked Jason's eyes.
"Father," Talia soothed.
"No," Jason snapped. "You're right. I'm just a mistake. I'll get out of your hair now, if that's what you want."
He stood up abruptly and stormed off, anger bubbling inside him.
"Jason!" Talia called. "Jason, don't go back!"
Jason tried to block out the sounds. He didn't need them. He'd go back to Batman, and everything would be just as it used to be.
"Jason..." He could still hear her faint cries. "He'll never accept you! He'll never accept..."
Before:
"Now."
They lowered the body into the shimmering green pool. Wisps of smoke rose from it, like ghostly fingers from the Nether-realms. They grasped around the room as if lost.
The boy touched the pool, and it started to churn. Soon the body was swallowed, bubbles exploding at the surface at a rapid pace, until a gargled scream could be heard from underneath the surface. The men with the masks stepped back from the Lazarus Pit, forming a line in front of their master.
Ra's Al Ghul perceived this all in a calm manner. The breaking of his arch enemy, after all, was not to be enacted by a measly clown.
The scream emerged from the surface, as the boy that was Jason Todd stood up in the acidic Pit. Pain swelled inside him from every inch of his skin, every nerve in his body, until he was almost numb.
Ra's stepped forward, commanding his soldiers to part before him. He gestured for his daughter to come as well.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The boy's green eyes flashed with recognition, and anger. "I... I'm Jason," he spluttered. "And you're... you're-!"
He raised his hand. "We are not enemies here, Robin. You are reborn, and you have us to thank for it."
Jason covered his ears. "No. No no no, I'm dead, I don't understand! Batman! Where's Batman? Take me to him, please!"
Talia put her hand on Jason's arm lightly.
"No more Batman," she said gently. "From now on, Batman is dead to you."
Before:
"Robin!"
Batman scrambled over the bricks and dust. His boots scraped the charred and jagged pieces of the walls, scratching the Kevlar plates. But his white lenses went on searching, scouring like watchmen at night.
He had to find Robin. He couldn't fail him.
The wind blew gently, fluttering Batman's cape softly. It sang a soft lullaby. A sad lullaby.
At last Batman came to the source of the explosion: a bomb, painted with a smiling face. It seemed as though the Joker had deliberately left the shell of it, as a taunt.
Batman closed his hand around it and crushed it.
"Jason..."
He clambered over a particularly huge rock and slid down, until he was in a small crater. And there, painted with the flaming sun, was Robin.
Jason. His son.
"Jason!" He cried, putting his arms around the small child.
His arms immediately coating with blood. And there was so much of it- how could someone even have this much?
"No, no, I'm sorry..." Batman took off his cowl and attempted to resuscitate him. Maybe, if Jason saw his face...
No. A mistake. Batman was not allowed to make mistakes...
"Jason," Batman choked. "Jason, how did it end up this way?"
Before:
"DICK!"
He laughed as he dodged the younger boy's blows. Jason let out a cry of rage, and barrelled into the unmasked Nightwing. A few bats in the rafters flew away at the loud sounds of battle.
"Hey, Jaybird, don't be a sore loser," Dick teased.
"I am not a sore loser!" Jason said indignantly. "You're just a jerk!"
Holding out a hand, Dick helped Jason up. With Batman refusing to let Robin patrol on injury grounds, he had called a 'babysitter' (Jason's words) to look after him. And, of course, the first call was to Dick Grayson.
The former Robin. The better Robin.
"Again, Jason," Dick persisted. "Practice makes perfect."
"Sure made you perfect," Jason muttered.
Nightwing leaned against a table and took a look at his newly found younger brother. As far as he could see, they knew next to nothing about each other. All he knew was that Jason loved chillidogs and the colour red- great for hanging out, but not so good for understanding each other.
Somehow, Nightwing had the distinct feeling that Jason was jealous of him.
"Jason," Dick said.
"What-"
Dick crushed him in his arms, and Jason let out a little air and a little squeal.
"Gak, what are you-"
"I love you Jay," Dick murmured, "and so does Bruce and Alfred. I hope you remember that."
Jason coughed as Dick released him. "Gee, Golden Boy, sappy much?"
But Dick could see the smile that tugged at Robin's lips, and he returned one of his own.
"You know what?"
"What?" Jason asked, slightly annoyed.
Dick smiled. "You'll make a great hero someday."
Before:
"No!"
"Dick, please-"
Jason stood on the top of the staircase, looking down intently. Underneath him, Bruce and Dick were traversing the floor. Dick was agitatedly waving him arms in the air.
"No, Bruce! Do you hear yourself? He's just a kid-"
"And so were you!"
Dick frowned. "Isn't that why you fired me? Because I'm just a kid?!"
Bruce's eyes darted up to the staircase, as if he sensed Jason's presence. Immediately, Jason shrunk back, pulling the blanket of shadows up to his chin. It was late at night and he was supposed to be sleeping, and he was too new to get into trouble already.
But the voices had been loud, and he had been curious. And they were talking about him...
"Jason needs this," Bruce said, quieter than before. "I can't let him turn out any other way..."
"He could turn out normal! You gave him a chance at a normal life, don't take it away from him!"
"Dick, I know what Robin means to you-"
"Do you?" Dick let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't want Jason growing up with Batman. I want Jason growing up with you, Bruce! Then maybe things wouldn't turn out as badly as they did with us..."
Bruce stiffened, as if someone had electrocuted him. Even from Jason's distance, he could feel the cold waves pouring out of his new guardian.
"He will be Robin," Bruce said flatly. "And you have no say in that."
Dick's eyes flashed with hurt as Bruce walked away.
"You'll kill him, Bruce!" He yelled hoarsely. "You'll kill him!"
Before:
"Stop!"
Batman stopped, holding his hands in the air. The buildings surrounding the alleyway were dirty, covered in mould and tar. The ground reeked of blood and sweat.
Some place for a kid to be in, Bruce thought.
The kid in question raised a small crowbar as a defensive weapon, though Batman knew it would do no harm. His black hair fell over his blue eyes. And god, he was so small...
"I'm not going to hurt you," he growled, but the kid only looked more terrified. The wheels he had stolen were in a pile behind him.
A bit funny, actually, a kid taking the wheels off the Batmobile. It would be funny, if the kid didn't look like he hadn't eaten in a week.
"Look," Batman tried again, but ditching the trying-to-sound-like-an-earthquake voice, "no weapons." He dropped his belt. "See?"
The boy took a cautious step forward, raising his crowbar higher. Batman knelt until he was on the same level as him.
"What's your name, kid?"
The boy narrowed his eyes. "Jason," he said quietly.
"Well, Jason," he said. "Where do you live?"
In an instant a flash of fear lighted in his eyes, and Bruce knew his worst suspicions had been confirmed.
A street kid. Probably an orphan. (Because not everyone had the luxury of being a billionaire when they have been through hell.)
"Jason, listen to me. Do you want to get out of here?"
Jason cocked his head, as if measuring the worth of Batman's words. A smart kid. Probably learned the harsher ways of life.
"Where will you take me?"
"Somewhere safe."
His eyes brightened at that. Perhaps 'safe' was all anyone ever needed.
"Come here, Jason," Bruce said. "I'll never let anything hurt you, ever again."
Hey guys, I'm back! I know I should be updating Condescending, but seriously I'm kinda stuck. I just came up with this idea randomly in the car. I hope you enjoyed it! Please like or review or follow if you want more, 'cause I have some ideas of a second chapter, but I'm also happy to just leave it here. Thanks for reading!
