DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics.
To the Rescue
The clank of metal on concrete reverberated to his very core, his head ringing in concert with the echo. He couldn't move, could barely breath, couldn't fight as the world tilted and spun and he was suddenly upright again. At once blood ran down the side of his face, seeping beneath the mask protecting his identity.
The chair he was bound to tottered but remained vertical. His head lolled forward to his chest and through blurred vision he could see the coarse rope lashing his torso to the straight back of the chair. Several loops of rope secured his thighs to the seat and his calves were roped to the legs of the chair. His elbows and wrists were lashed to the slats at his side and he could not miss the blood dripping from his gloved fingertips to the cement floor beneath him.
Nor could he ignore the blood covered crow bar that lay only a few feet from him.
Laughter, high pitched and crazy, sounded behind him and he felt fingers fist painfully in his hair and yank his head back. The razor edge of a knife rested against his jugular and he resisted the urge to swallow, lest the blade cut into his already battered body.
"You are turning out to be much more fun than the other one!" The voice cheerfully exclaimed. "You're lasting soooo much longer! Of course, there's not time constraint this go 'round, now is there?"
Trying to focus on the face hovering above him, Nightwing glared at the chalk white face with blood red lips. He would have spit in the Joker's face, but the heavy duct tape covering his face below the nose kept his mouth sealed. He desperately tried not to cringe when the knife at his throat was moved to his eye, its point pressing dangerously into the swelling flesh exposed by the missing lens in his mask.
He failed and the Joker's laughter rang out explosively again.
"Oh the fun we'll have!" The knife was lowered and the Joker let go of Nightwing's hair and took a few steps away.
His head falling to his chest again, Nightwing fought to catch his breath through his blood clogged nose.
"And to think, we're just getting started!" The Joker stepped in front of his captive and poked the tip of the knife into Nightwing's chin, lifting his head until they met each other's gaze eye to eye. The maniacal gleam in the psychopath's green eyes sent a chill straight to Nightwing's heart. "But first things first…"
Spinning quickly, the knife slicing open the young hero's chin, Joker flung the blade through the air and into the rafters of the warehouse ceiling. Nightwing cried out in horror against the gag as a figure clad in dark red and black tumbled to the cement below. His heart was pounding against his bruised and broken ribs as he could only watch as the Joker approached the teen unmoving on the ground.
Robin was on his side, his face pinched in a grimace of pain, his hand gripping at his shoulder that the flying blade had pierced to the hilt with near deadly precision. It had been soaring toward his heart and only his sudden movement to the side had saved his life. Of course it also sent him plummeting to the floor below.
Joker was laughing hysterically as he bent over the vulnerable hero and jerked the knife from Robin's shoulder. The boy cried out when he was gripped by the hair and dragged across the floor to where Nightwing was thrashing against his restraints and cursing into his gag.
Joker flung the injured Robin to the ground and scooped up the bloodied crowbar. "Shaddup!" He swung out viciously, the solid metal connecting with Nightwing's chest and knocking the breath out of his lungs as he toppled over backward.
"No!" Robin leapt at Joker only to be batted aside with the same bar that had spent the last hour beating his predecessor.
Coughing against the sudden searing pain in his ribs and side, Robin fought inadequately against the Joker's manhandling. He was sat roughly into a seat and in less than a minute he was expertly tied to the straight back chair at the chest, elbows, arms, thighs, and calves. A wad of fabric was wedged between his teeth and Robin tasted blood on the material and shuddered at the realization of whose blood it was. At least three strips of duct tape were used to secure the packing in his mouth and with a satisfied slap to his cheek, the Joker stepped back to admire his work.
"I really must have been a good boy," the sadist laughed as he once again righted Nightwing's chair. The older hero's complexion was pasty and sallow, and his breaths were coming in wet shallow wheezes though his nose.
"Two birds for the price of one!" The Joker danced around, twirling with his arms spread wide. The knife in one hand slashed across Robin's forehead and the teen cringed in pain as the blood began to trickle down his face.
Stopping his twirls, the Joker approached Robin and slowly drew the edge of the bloodied blade down the boy's cheek. The skin sliced open easily and Robin winced and was unable to stop the sharp intake of air through his nose. Joker just laughed again, "Must be my lucky night!"
The purple clad villain leapt back with a spin, crowbar in one hand and his knife in the other pointing at the two powerless heroes. "Now, who's first?"
"I am." The two words were low and menacing, punctuated with the safety being removed from a pistol.
Robin glanced up, never happier to see the crimson helmet emerging from the shadows of the warehouse as he was at that moment.
The Red Hood held the pistol steady and aimed at the mad man's head. "Touch them again and I swear this time I really will end you."
He watched the Joker turn slowly, the grin on his face growing to inhuman proportions. Joker opened his mouth to speak when Red Hood suddenly shrugged.
"Fuck it."
The thunderclap of the shot echoed painfully in the vastness of the room and at first Robin didn't understand what happened.
Then Joker fell to his knees, the crowbar and knife clattering to the floor. A second later he was toppling to the side and wide, confused green eyes were staring lifelessly that the two captives. A slow trickle of blood oozed from the blackened hole centered in the pasty white forehead.
Red Hood was bursting past Robin, a knife slicing through the ropes on his one arm and wrist. He pulled the tape from his mouth, spat the wad of fabric out and started working on freeing himself from the chair. All the while he watched from the corner of his eye as the other man removed his helmet then proceeded to cut the unresponsive Nightwing from his bindings.
"How is he?" The younger boy asked, retrieving a small blade from his utility belt to help cut away the ropes.
"You got the communicator for the Mountain?" the crimson masked Hood asked grimly.
"Of course."
"Get them here yesterday."
"Shit," Robin cursed as the last of the ropes fell away and he activated the emergency beacon on his communicator while rushing to the pair. Helping the former Robin lay the unconscious Nightwing on the floor, the current Robin glanced over at the corpse still staring at them. "You actually killed him."
Jason Todd snorted and didn't bother to spare a glance at his kill. "No shit, Sherlock."
"We don't kill…" Tim Drake voiced quietly, only to look down at the bruised, battered and broken man he saw as family. He swallowed hard and grabbed the limp hand in his own shaking one.
"The son of a bitch already killed one Robin," the older teen said lowly, not looking away from Nightwing's swollen and unopened eyes. "I wasn't about to let him take my brothers."
Robin snapped his head up as the renegade stood and donned his helmet again. "You'll be fine, just don't move him."
"Where are you going?" Robin demanded as he started walking away.
"I'm not exactly on good terms with the Team or the League," Red Hood told him with a backward glance. "Probably a good idea if I'm not here when Mal and the rest show up."
"What do I tell them?"
"Whatever you want, Replacement, it doesn't matter. They'll take care of you two before they come after me, so I'll be out of Gotham before they'll start looking."
The dark shadows swallowed him and Robin knew it was going to be a long time before he saw the Red Hood again.
He didn't know who long it took, but the wall suddenly exploded and the team all but poured in to the warehouse. Wondergirl and Miss Martian were at his side in an instant asking him questions he didn't know the answers to as they worked to stabilize their leader for transport.
He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up at Mal Duncan's furious but worried face. The tall, black man motioned to the body that those not working on Nightwing were staring at. "What the hell happened, Robin?"
Tim felt himself looking away from Joker's body to the shadows where the man who had called him brother disappeared into. He could tell them... He should tell them... But when he opened his mouth he heard himself answer:
"I don't know…"
