The Breaking of a Hero, a young justice fanfic

Hello everyone! This is just a one-shot from Jason's POV based on his death in the beginning of Batman Under the Red Hood. I loved that movie (though I did wish the ending was a bit more resolved) and I loved/hated this scene in it. I felt like it was perfectly done to portray Jason Todd's final moments before Joker killed him and I hope that you guys thought that I did it justice.

Some of you may know that I am fresh off of the ending of my other fanfiction, What He Left Behind. This is a story based on the show Young Justice that depicts how the heroes deal with the aftermath of the season 2 finale. If you havent read that please do because I put a lot of time and effort into it and I really hope that people read it and like it!

Anyway, on with this. I own nothing. Enjoy!

The pain wasn't the worst part. His head was giving him a splitting headache, his sides felt like they were on fire, probably from nearly each of his ribs being broken or fractured, and his wrists were raw and bloodied from where they were tied behind his back.

No, the pain wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the humiliation. Jason had to kneel in front of this…this monster as he laughed and jeered at him, swinging a crowbar around and beating him with it. The sound that was made when the steel rod connected to the youth's body was sickening to hear. There was a metallic pitch of it being swing through the air and the dull thud came after, always ending with a small groan from the victim and some maniac sentence from the assaulter.

Yes, he felt the pain. He felt it with every beat that his frail heart was making as his blood coursed through his body and out of his wounds. He felt the pain with every dull thud, every time the crowbar connected with his flesh. He felt the pain with every labored breath as, dear God, one of his lungs just collapsed.

But even still, the humiliation of knowing that he was caught by the Joker, tricked into thinking he would find answers by this twisted form of a man, it was enough to make him cringe. He was pissed at himself for being so stupid. He was pissed at himself for thinking that he could do this himself, that he knew better than his mentor. When he got out of this, he would never admit it to Batman that he was right, but he would trust the man a bit more. His own damn pride got him in too much trouble like this.

He wheezed and raised his head, which felt like an achievement by itself, and he could taste blood on his lips, or maybe it was already in his mouth. The coppery taste made his stomach turn but before he could do anything, the Joker swung the crowbar forward and knocked him across his jaw with it, sending the hero to the ground again. Jason coughed, a gross, watery sound, and it hurt his sides even more. His jaw throbbed and he was sure that there would be a dark bruise there in the morning, if it wasn't already broken by the force of that swing.

He groaned in pain and coughed again, just trying to focus on breathing. He had to get out. He had to get away. He was a tough kid, he would take a beating or two. But if this lasted much longer, and if the Joker didn't let up on his strikes, he knew that he would be in trouble.

"Wow…that looked like it really hurt." The sadistic voice that made his skin crawl said. Jason's eyes were closed but he knew that that horrid villain was standing closer, that sick smile no doubt twisted on his white face. Jason knew that he would have nightmares about this night for years to come, especially about that creepy smile.

Before the fallen Robin could reply with a smart assed remark that he would pride himself in, another strike came. Followed by another. Then another. Each one felt more painful than the last and the pain grew more intense as he felt it deeper in his body. He grunted with each hit, trying to lift himself up after the second one before getting knocked back by the last blow hit under his chin. He fell back hard on his back, knocking out the precious air that he had in his usable lung. He groaned and tried to suck more in, blinking back the black dots from his vision from his head slapping against the cold concrete floor.

He knew that he was in some abandoned warehouse. Cliché much? He thought as he lay there, staring up at the ceiling and focusing on breathing. Breathing hurt but it was necessary.

"Argh…" He groaned, as he took deep breaths through his nose and out of his mouth. He felt shards of his ribs slicing into something inside him and the pain was unbearable.

Breathe. Don't think about the pain, just breathe.

"Oh…hold on. That looked like it hurt a lot more." Jason heard the Joker say through the ringing in his ears. If he was on his feet right now, he would knock that stupid smile right off of his face with that back of his foot. Of course Jason didn't have his shoes on, or his gloves. The Joker left this utility belt on him when he drug him in here, though it was empty as if a sadistic reminder that he was utterly alone.

No, Batman will come. He's on his way. He'll get me out of this if I don't get myself out first.

Jason heard the soft thudding of the crowbar meeting his enemy's hand, like his was taunting him as he said. "So, let's try to clear this up, okay pumpkin?"

Clear what up? I did nothing wrong to you.

He felt the Joker standing over him and he closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable. He knew what was coming and tried to brace himself for it, though there really was no bracing yourself for getting beaten by a crazy man wielding a crowbar.

He heard Joker's voice again. "What hurts more? A…"

He could hear the whistling in the air before he felt the sharp bite of the rod on his chest. He grunted, gritting his teeth together tightly as he tried his hardest to not scream in pain. That would make him seem weak. He had to hold onto what little shred of dignity he had now. He had to.

"Or B?"

He was hit again, this time in the hip. He could feel something cracking under the crowbar and he cringed, curling up on his side to try to protect himself from this monster.

"Forehand?"

He was struck across the face and this time he felt his jaw shattering under the impact. The pain was excruciating. But he still tried to push himself back up. He had to face this man, even if it killed him. He wouldn't cower beneath him. He would face him.

"Or backhand?"

He was hit again, the once more for good measure. He landed face down in a growing puddle of his own blood. He could hear that monster's sickening laughter behind him as he tried to breathe.

Pain is just a state of mind. Push through it.

But at this moment, it didn't feel like a state of mind. He concluded that the pain was now worse than the embarrassment and he body was just on autopilot. He was fight or flight mode right now, though he could do neither. He was utterly helpless, and it didn't sit well with the youth.

Get yourself together, Jason. He told himself.

He felt a little kindle of the fire he often had in his green eyes come back and he painfully rolled himself onto his side, his ebony hair flopping over his sweaty forehead.

"Go to Hell.." He tried to say, but with his broken jaw and collapsed lung, it came out weak and muffled, inaudible even to himself.

Joker leaned forward and mocked him, like this was some sort of game. "A little louder, lamb chop." He gripped Jason's hair. "I think you may have a collapsed lung; that always impedes the oratories."

Jason couldn't stand it. He gathered up the saliva and blood in his mouth and in a moment of prideful recklessness, his spit the mixture across the Joker's cheek. It was a little victory, but one nonetheless.

Joker, in retaliation, with madness and anger in his eyes, gripped the youth's hair tighter and yanked his head back, causing him to yelp in pain before slamming his face into the concrete already stained in his blood. He grunted and felt blood gushing from his surely broken nose as Joker stood up.

"Now that was rude. The first boy blunder had some manners." The maniac stated.

Jason, twisted, turning to look up at him with a flash of his signature and usually charming smile. The image was made more gruesome by the blood that lined his teeth and his left eye that was almost swollen shut, but he wouldn't let that stop him. He wouldn't let this man destroy him or his spirit. He was a fighter. He had lived on the streets for most of his life and that gave him something that Dick Grayson never had; drive. Sure he was close to the older hero, one he looked at as an older brother and mentor at times, but he always felt like he was compared to him by Bruce. He always felt second best because he couldn't perfectly flip backwards from any situation or maybe he was a bit reckless at times. No, usually they were friends, unless it came to crime fighting. That's when Jason had something to prove. But now, being captured by Joker, these thoughts only strengthened his resolve to get out. Sure Batman was probably on his way to rescue him, but he would get much more credit if he made it out by himself.

"I suppose I'm going to have to teach you a lesson so you could better follow in his footsteps." Joker states which made Jason grimace.

Don't compare me to him!

"Nah, I'm just going to keep beating you with this crowbar." He stated then shoved his heavy boot between Jason's shoulder blades.

The younger male groaned as the realization hit him as loudly as this villain's laughter. Joker wasn't messing around with him. He could actually kill him and he sounded like he wanted to. But for what? To get to Batman probably. Jason felt like nothing more than a pawn and it infuriated him. But at Joker's laugher still sounded, Jason knew that he had to let go of all that bitterness. He had to fight to stay alive now. That was his way of getting out of this godforsaken warehouse.

He watched the man laugh but then soon closed his eyes, as if he could block out that horrible sound. It didn't stop, and neither did that metallic whistle with each swing. Each thud. Each groan. Jason squirmed on the ground as he lay there, helpless, like a rag doll.

Batman will come. Any minute now. The pain will end soon.

But it didn't. Joker was relentless, and Jason lost count of how many times he was struck and beaten and mocked.

"I'm going to break you, pumpkin. I'm going to break those little wings of yours." Joker laughed as he rapid fire hit Jason in the side, resulting in another crack from his body. He grit his teeth harder together, tasting the awful taste of blood in his mouth, on his lips. He could smell it in his nose, and feel it on his skin. It was everywhere, all over him, though it felt like there was none left in him.

Any moment now...

He was struck again, this time harder than the last. Joker seemed to be getting impatient and his blows were coming down harder, more violent than before, if possible.

It will be over soon…

He was hit in the jaw again, sending him to his other side as his head smacked into the floor. He coughed hard, more blood coming to his lips.

Just let this be over soon…

"Won't you sing for me, birdy boy?" Joker snarled menacingly.

Please no…

Jason refused to scream out, though his whole body was in pain. He wouldn't give the villain that satisfaction. Joker only hit him harder.

"Just." Smack. "Sing." Thump. "For me!" Crack…

Jason howled a long, pent up scream of pain when he felt his shin break from a hard hit from the crowbar.

Joker went wild laughing and Jason bit his lip hard as he blinked back tears.

You idiot…you gave him what he wanted.

Jason struggled with his inner demons as they assaulted him in his mind just at this demon assaulted him with a crowbar.

Worthless.

You let him break you.

Batman just settled for you.

Jason shook his head as much as he could in his weakened state. No…I can get out of this.

You're replaceable.

That last thought stuck with him and the fire went out of his eyes. Joker struck him one last time on the chest which sent him to his side. He put his head down and closed his eyes. Sleep sounded good right about now, though he knew it wouldn't happen.

Just give up. You're broken.

He heard a clang as the crowbar was dropped to the floor. He heard footsteps as the Joker walked away from him. Jason lay motionless there. It hurt too much to do anything else.

Just play dead until he is gone. He told himself. He couldn't bare anymore blows from that wretched weapon. The defiant part of the hero told himself that if ever he got out of here, he would repay the Joker with the same treatment with the crowbar. An eye for an eye.

Jason barely acknowledged that his captor was saying something to him but the ringing in his ears blocked it out. He picked up on the last part though. "…tell the big man that I said 'Hello'."

He heard the door clang shut and he stayed there, motionless on the floor still, as if moving would bring the maniac back. The pain didn't hurt as bad right here anyway. He could stay here and wait for Batman. Yeah…I think I'll just stay here…

No stupid! Get up! Get yourself out of this!

When he finally heard that deafening laugher disappear he slowly opened his eyes. That inner voice in him was right. He still had a reputation to uphold. He needed to get himself out of this, not wait for Batman to save him every time.

He let out a grunt of pain, more vocal with his hurting tone now that no one was there to hear him, and he rolled himself onto his back. If that was hard, which it was, then this next part was going to be nearly impossible. He used what little strength he had and rolled himself over his shoulder, catching himself on his toes as he slipped his legs, one at a time, through the handcuffs so his arms could be in front of him. Dick had shown him that move years before, saying it would save his life one day. He would have to remember to thank him for that when he got back to Gotham. He winced as his severely injured leg was jostled but he had to ignore it.

Get through the pain.

He put his hands out before him, groaning as he pushed himself to his feet, mostly putting his weight on the leg that wasn't broken. He staggered a bit, gaining his balance. He was hunched forward, a broken silhouette of his usual heroic self. He had perfected the hero stance for the public to a T; shoulders back, chin up, hands on hips, chest forward, and smiling proudly. He had always looked up to heroes in the pictures of newspapers that he saw when he grew up on the streets, wondering if he could one day get the chance to be one himself, fighting back against the people that were mean to him when he was innocent and little.

But now look at yourself, Todd.

He grimaced and tried to take a step forward. It was a longshot, but he had to try. As soon as his foot on his broken leg touched the cold cement floor, he crumpled forward, right on his face. He didn't even have the strength to soften the blow with his hands and took the full impact with his body. His forehead slammed into the hard floor and left him dazed for a bit until he blinked back the stars in his vision.

With a deep breath he propped himself up on his elbows and lifted his head, facing the door. That was the only exit available to him. That was his new goal. Just get to the door and get out, then go on from there. He told himself.

So he resorted to crawling, or more like dragging, himself to the door. Every movement hurt. His sides would get jarred and his broken leg scraped along the floor with every inch of ground that he made. He grit his teeth and set his jaw, a whimpering sound coming from the back of his throat. He looked up and the door only seemed to get further and further away.

His breathing was labored and his bruised brow was coated with a thin layer of sweat at his gave absolutely everything he had to get across the floor. His blood smeared along the ground, leaving a trail from where the initial puddle started to where he was now. This was taking everything out of him and it was getting harder and harder to keep moving.

Go…just keep going. Save yourself for once.

Jason pressed his eyelids tightly together and kept his pace. It seemed to go on for forever, like he was running a marathon, but instead of running, he was crawling.

I'm sure Batman is on the way…I'll be out by then.

He clenched his jaw hard and suppressed a grunt as he pulled himself forward more, making ground little by little. It didn't look like much, but he was getting there. Someday he would make it.

He'll be proud to know that I got myself out…especially in this condition.

Pure willpower was pushing the young hero forward now. If Jason was anything, he was stubborn, and he refused to go out like this.

I won't let that monster win. I won't let Joker win!

He kept himself going, running words through his head as his vision danced between light and dark.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he made it to the door. It felt like the hard part was over.

Now all I have to do is get outside and find help, I'll be safe then. I'll be free.

He slowly reached up, pulling himself painfully to his knees as he did so to reach for the door handle. He grabbed it and pushed down…but found that it only moved a little. His hopes seemed to be dashed as reality set in. He grit his teeth and jiggled it more, but no…it was locked.

I just can't catch a break, can I?

He grunted and let his hands drop as he hung his head. He would have to wait now. He would have to wait for Batman to save him now.

Hopefully it won't be long.

He turned slowly, trying to be careful of his injuries but the arm supporting him gave out and he landed on his butt which jostled his side. He groaned and pressed his hand to his ribcage, feeling blood seeping through his fingers. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the sold metal door.

What did I do to deserve this?

Jason was never much of the self-loathing type. He hated people who pitied themselves. But this was the final straw. All he tried to do was be a better person. He tried to help people. He saved lives!

Karma's a bitch to people like me.

He sighed and looked down.

Batman will come…he'll come..

He kept telling himself that. He had to have something to hold onto. But he faintly heard a beeping echoing in the warehouse. His eye widened, knowing that sound and he looked up in the direction of it.

A bomb, a large one at that, was located on the other side of the warehouse sitting on a crate. He was surprised that he hadn't heard it earlier, but that was probably because he was too focused on trying to stay alive to take in his surroundings properly. The timer read 00:10. Each second that went by was followed by a high pitched beep. It mocked him, just like the Joker's laughter.