... This is a chapter I have no qualms with. I... actually like something I wrote.

... This is new...

Anything in itallics are flashbacks.

I do not own YJ or any related properties.

Red Hood was just capable of controlling his urge to break through the skylight he was leaning against and beat the hell out of the damn clown inside the warehouse. Batman had said to wait for his signal, and it would be best to play by Batsy's rules for now.

Even if he had to watch some innocent kid get tortured by that freaking psychopath while he waited.

As the Joker broke the boy's wrist, he heard Nightwing's voice over the communicator.

"Do you think we should head down there?" his voice was obviously rather desperate, fear ringing in every syllable.

"We have to wait until he is far enough away from Robin so that he can't use him as leverage upon our entrance."

"I... guess that makes sense..."

The disappointment, and still-existent fear, was quite evident in the tone.

Red Hood had admittedly winced while watching the brutal attacks, but he as able to ignore the quiet rage that was slowly building up inside him. He had faced worse before, this clown really being the main cause of that, true, but help was on its way. The kid would clearly be just fine...

His control over himself snapped when he saw the crowbar.

At first all he could do was stare at the horror, unable to register anything. His blood pumped in his ears, and his mind wandered towards the not-so-distant past.

"Little Birdy? Aww, don't fall asleep on me now! The fun's just begun!"

He could barely hear Nightwing begging Batman to let him help Robin, only to be denied for the same reason as before.

He wanted to just let his body just slip away, to escape the teeth of the crowbar digging into his flesh, the copper scent of his own blood invading his nostrils, the pure pain that his entire existence currently composed of...

He tried to crawl away, but the tattered remains of his black and yellow cape that hung pathetically from his shoulders was soon yanked by the Joker, dragging him back to the maniac's feet for more of the cruel torture...

Red Hood could not stop himself from crashing through the skylight, despite the Dark Knight's angry voice yelling at him to stop directly in his ear. The communicator was soon pulled out and thrown behind him as he descended.

The anti-hero landed in a roll on the concrete floor. His entrance stopped the swinging of the damned crowbar, and soon the Joker was looking directly at the teen.

Laughter rang out with each hit.

"Now where,"

The crowbar landed on his skin.

"is your precious Daddy Bats now?"

Another blow met its mark.

"How about,"

The metal tore through both the fabric in his costume and his bruised skin.

"your loving big birdy brother?"

The blood was rushing down his skin, pooling in a maroon puddle around his fading body...

"Why, who is this charming... guy in a red helmet?" The clown asked as he slowly walked away from Robin's limp form, the crowbar swung over his shoulder as he looked at Red Hood curiously.

Seeing the maniac's face again, this close up, made him suddenly feel vulnerable. Like he had only a few short years ago...

"Oh, that's right! They don't know you're here with your Uncle Joker! Really, I should have invited your brother as well... He is missing out on such fun!"

There was a tinge of a very different fear inside, before he spat blood on the ground to clear his throat, growling out a response.

"You stay the hell away from him."

The Joker bent down, and ruffled the boy's hair.

"Aww, isn't this cute? The little birdy is looking out for the big bird! Don't worry, baby bird," his face was pushed into the ground, and soon the clown's heavy foot was pushing into his chest. "I'm having waaaay too much fun with you right now to even consider anyone else! Well, for the moment, that is..."

His gun was in his hands in seconds.

"Put the crowbar down and get the hell away from Robin now, psycho."

The Joker stared into the barrel of the gun.

"Well, that doesn't really answer anything. Since you're here to save the birdy, that means you're a hero... Judging from the jacket and convincing looking dart gun, I'm guessing your name is Motorcycle Dude!"

"The name is Red Hood, clown, and this ain't a dart gun. Now put the damn crowbar down, and slide it over here!"

A short laugh echoed through the warehouse.

"Red Hood, huh? I thought that as the name of the guy who's been messing with drug trading... That was you? Then that is a real gun! Wowee, I'm dealing with a real-life anti-hero! How exciting!"

"Crowbar! Now!"

The Joker cradled the weapon, putting it up to his face.

"But... This is a bit of a prized possession for me, Hoodie. Ya see, I had an amazing play date with this as the main toy! In fact, I was just trying to relive that now... See how special it is?"

The Joker pushed the crowbar forward, into the Red Hood's visible range. He felt a churning in his stomach as he looked at the weapon, the metal slick with fresh blood, but... there were clearly layers of dried blood directly underneath...

"Why would I want anyone else when I got a fiery little bird to play with?" the maniac cackled, blood flying in the air as the crowbar ripped the muscles in his right arm...

"You damn clown," he whispered, seeing Batman and Nightwing quietly sneak in through the back entrance and hide behind a pile of crates in the corner of his eye. "You just have to maim everything you touch, don't you? The thousands of families you forcefully tore apart, the innocent souls you have scarred, the love you have brutally destroyed. Hell, that kid over there that you never met before today, yet still felt the need to torture, the countless emotional and physical and mental injuries you've delivered to Nightwing, who is barely 19. Every. Damn. Thing. You touch... is tainted."

The grin on the Joker's face only grew.

"Yup, that's me! I just want to remind the world that it needs to lighten up a little! You obviously got my message at one point, though it seems you didn't really listen. I don't recognize ya, though, but you do seem a bit familiar. What was it I did?"

The hand holding the gun shook.

"It doesn't matter, just get at least ten yards away from the kid, and throw the freaking crowbar over here already!"

The smile was still present, but an angry spark appeared in the clown's eyes.

"You see, Hoodie, it does matter. Really, it matters a lot. I know you somehow. It is really bothering me. I hate it when something is bothering me.."

A step was taken forward, and though Red Hood strongly held the weapon, the Joker managed to hit it from his hand with a one-armed swing of his bloody crowbar.

"What's really getting in the way is that stupid helmet. I'm sure I'd know exactly who you are if you would just take off that little red helmet."

When the teen did not move, the clown shrugged, the crowbar soon lifted high above his head.

"Well, there are other ways to get rid of it..."

The crowbar rose again, and he felt like he could hear the metal nearing his body, it whizzing through the cold air, blood dripping off as the wind tore at the surface. Soon it would be once again make contact with his broken body, and pain would engulf him once again...

"No!"

The yell startled Red Hood, as did the slim body that pushed him out of the crowbar's arc towards his helmet. Now on the ground, he turned his head to see Nightwing approaching the Joker, escrima sticks in hand and pure hatred etched on his face.

"You will never hurt him again! I will not let you go near him again!"

Red Hood felt surprise at the protectiveness in Nightwing's words, though he had an idea as to why they were there.

"Now, why would you care if I hurt some gun-carting teen? Is this you hero-complex kicking in again, Birdy?"

"I will always be there to protect my little brother. Even if he doesn't even want me to know it's him."

Both Red Hood and the Joker froze at the words. The clown's smile had faded, and he slowly turned to the teen.

"I killed you," the Joker whispered. Anger overtook his features, and soon he was yelling. "I KILLED YOU!"

No longer seeing the purpose of wearing the helmet, Red Hood slowly removed it, revealing pitch black hair that just covered his masked eyes.

"Isn't this fun, Birdy? Aren't you having fun?"

"It turns out death isn't the most permanent state, clown," Jason said, a bitter smirk on his face.

... It was pretty obvious Dick figured it out before, right? It was supposed to be...