The door wouldn't budge. It wasn't going to open in a million years. Suddenly I felt as if I were seven years old again, my father screaming insults at me, his voice slurred and his breath laced with alcohol. My mother would shout at him to stop, only for her to be beaten mercilessly. Sweat ran down my face, the salty taste of tears fell to my lips as I practically begged the door to open. Maniacal laughter rang in my ears, the sound of a crowbar being banged on cold cement sent shivers up my spine, despite the boiling room. My heart was desperately trying to leap out of my body, like a rabid animal trying to escape a cage. This is it. I'm going to die again.

"Oh Jasey! I've got something you might be interested in!" the voice made me freeze, my mind was racing and I started to tremble. I turned around to see Joker holding a tied up Cassandra over his shoulder, a crowbar stained with blood in his right hand. Her head was bleeding immensely, and distress was abnormally present in her dark brown eyes.

"NO!" I screamed. Cassandra was the only one who wasn't afraid of me. She didn't know who I used to be, so she didn't judge me. She's the only person that understands.

A wide and scarlet grin was plastered on the clowns face as he struck Cassandra with the crowbar. Suddenly I felt paralyzed and I couldn't move. My stomach threatened to empty its contents as I tried to pull myself toward the maniac, but my limbs were stiff, like gum stuck to a bottom of a chair.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Joker continued to maliciously hit Cassandra, who was screaming and crying for help.

"Jason! Help me!"

I desperately tried to reach out to her, pleading for Joker to stop. It was the same torture Joker gave me, only this time it hurt me more than my own. I would've much rather this happen to me again than anyone else. I couldn't save her. My scream could be heard for miles as Joker threw Cassandras limp body next to a bomb, beat me up, and dragged me out of the building. I dug my nails into the floor to no avail, and I felt as if I had died again as the bomb went off and the building erupted.

"NOOOO!" I sat up in my bed, my throat dry, most likely from screaming and sobbing. My heart was hammering and my head was spinning, I quickly scanned my surroundings and realized I was in Wayne Manor, in my old bedroom. I touched my forehead, and felt a bandage wrapped around it. My whole body ached as I shifted around to stand up. I head footsteps run toward the door moments before it was thrust open, and Dick ran to my side. Bruce, Tim, Alfred and Cassandra, (thank God,), ran in shortly after.

"Jay what happened! You were screaming bloody murder!" Dick exclaimed.

I was at lost for words and still much shaken from my nightmare. Alfred handed me a glass of water, concern present on his aged face.

I drank the water and looked at the others. They looked anxious to know what happened.

"I…I'm fine. Thanks guys. Why am I here?"

Cassandra stared at me, her dark eyes locked with mine.

"We found you in bad shape while on patrol. Are you sure you're okay?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah."

They all gave each other skeptical looks, but left anyway. The last to leave was Cassandra. She stood against the wall and looked toward her feet. I ran my fingers through my clammy hair, my fingers lingered on the course white strands that reminded me of my return.

"You had nightmare?" Cassandra brought me out of my thoughts, and pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

I grunted and shrugged, embarrassed.

"It does not make you weak. We all have them. I have same nightmare every night. About killing when I was young."

I nodded, not sure what to say to that.

"Do you want to talk about nightmare?"

Cassandra didn't understand. I couldn't tell her. I've never even told her how I died, at least not in full detail. She again stared at me with innocent eyes, as if she were waiting for me to speak.

"No. I can't." I said lamely.

"It's okay. I understand. But if you want to tell me, you can later."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." I forced a small smile. She gave me one back and curtly bowed before leaving the room.

I sighed and turned off my lamp, hoping to get back to sleep. I felt a breeze brush by me, and as I sat up I was met my Tim, standing beside my bed with an angry look on his face.

"You better leave Cass alone Todd." His voice was icy cold, and goose bumps ran up my arms.

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"You may have her fooled, but the rest of us know better than to trust you. Cassandra is naïve. She believes what she hears is truth. You're a murder Jason. If you do so much as come two feet near her I will make you wish you hadn't."

A deep laugh left my chest as Tim practically growled at me.

"That's adorable. We all know you're with Bruce on his stupid 'code' replacement. I'm not going to hurt her. I'm not going to hurt any of you. I-"

"You what?" Tim interrupted me. "Are you going to deny that you're a psychopathic murder? That I'm being foolish for letting my best friend and sister go near you?" I felt a pang in my heart as the harsh words left Tim's lips. Am I a bad person because I do what I think is 'just'? They won't even look at me the same way anymore. Not even Dick. They're all wary of my presence.

"Those people deserved it! One of the men were kidnapping and murdering little girls! Don't tell me he wasn't really bad, he could change, blah, blah, blah."

"Just forget it. You don't understand."

Understand what? What the heck is Tim's problem? I know they don't like me, but he's gone totally ballistic. Cassandra talked to me first, and all I did was talk back to her!

"Just leave." My voice was hoarse. Tim glared at me, but obeyed.

What did I do to deserve my own family hating me?