Drindalis: Well, it's been a long two years, folks. Things were weird for me in my personal life for quite some time. Unfortunately we had a serious illness in the family, but luckily they recovered and are doing well. I'm very sorry that I was inactive for so long, but even when I did have motivation to write, my style has changed so much from when I first began Who Could Guess? that I wasn't sure where to even begin picking it up. Although it may not be exactly what you all were eagerly awaiting, I hope that any update is a good update. :) Thank you all for sticking with me through all this, and the final chapter will be out shortly.
Jason drummed his fingers on his leg nervously as the Batmobile roared down the Gotham streets, heading towards the last known signal from Alfred's tracker. The others only wore trackers in their vigilante personas, something Bruce planned to remedy as soon as possible. No matter how hard he tried, Jason couldn't get what Harley had said out of his head.
Harley whimpered as her hat was yanked on again, shooting Bruce a pouty glare. "Mistah Jay had a plan from the very beginning...a plan in case somethin' happened to him for real. He knows 'bout the tumor, Brucie, knew from the very start. And he wanted us all to go out with a bang, all at the same time, but since that's not possible anymore, he arranged fer someone to get the other Bats, one at a time, an' make sure none of them can ever take up th' mantle when yer gone."
What exactly had she meant by that? What tumor? What exactly hadn't Bruce told them? A wave of guilt rolled over the rogue Robin at the idea that maybe Bruce had been too occupied with Jason's own injuries to have time to focus on himself. And maybe it wasn't anything serious...but then why did Harley say 'when you're gone'? That didn't sound like it was nothing to him. Filled with conflicting emotion, he turned to speak, only for Batman to cut him off.
"Right now our main priority has to be your brothers. I know you don't always see eye to eye with them, but we can't leave them with Tommy. He's a sick individual, he won't give them merciful deaths. Would you condemn them to that?"
Jason narrowed his eyes at him, feeling affronted. Surely Bruce didn't think so little of him, especially after the events of these past few weeks. Things had changed amongst the Robins and with his relationship with Bruce, changes that had affected him for the better. "Do you think I would do that?" He asks, glad for the helmet to hide his expression. A small part of him was afraid of the answer.
Batman said nothing, as they had arrived outside a building that the tracking device indicated that at least their faithful butler resided inside.
Jason stared at it rather forlornly, eyes narrowing in anger and disgust at Hush and his history of 'medical experiments'. He could give Pyg a run for his money on a good day. "I know I kinda blew my record of no kills back at Arkham...are you going to be mad if I do it again?" He's only half joking. Jason had found himself strangely attached to the two younger Robins while he had been injured. Damian's scornful words and cocky attitude, which hid a surprisingly decent kid underneath. Tim's insecure and somewhat awkward intelligence, the ever forgotten third child? Overshadowed by Dick's brilliance, Jason's nefarious deeds, and Damian's temper and attitude? Not to mention Alfred, the always loyal butler who was more of a grandfather figure to them all than they had ever known. Even when Jason was estranged, Alfred had been an anchor in the storm that was his life.
He would never leave them to Hush. Not even if he was still paralyzed. He would have found a way.
"We need to hurry." Jason snapped, climbing over the seat and digging through excess weapons for something he felt like he could wield. Obviously Batman carried no firearms, but he had bolos, caltrops, smoke bombs...Jesus. Flashbacks to his Robin years. Shaking his head to clear it, Jason found a pair of twin blades, about as long as his forearms. The blades weren't nearly as sharp as he would have preferred...but with enough force, they could kill a man. Jason gravely slid them into the straps on the thighs of his borrowed suit, clearly having been designed to hold escrima sticks rather than swords.
If it came down to it...if it turned out they were too late to save one or all of them...
Jason would kill Hush himself.
He didn't know if Bruce had the self control to hold himself back after what his sons had been put through in such a short time. If what Harley said was true, if they were going to lose Bruce...Jason would carry the blame so that Bruce could remain untainted by murder.
So that Bruce could spend the rest of his time in relative peace, not torturing himself for doing what needed to be done. Even if it meant Jason would be cast back into the role of black sheep, outcast...he would do it.
It was the least he could do to repay him for his kindness. His forgiveness, even if it was only temporary. If any of the Robins were still alive in there, they could enjoy the time with their father that they had left, and he would disappear once more into the shadows, if that was what they needed him to do.
Batman stood as well, cape flapping ominously and silently in the breeze. The building was unnaturally quiet. Not even the sound of crickets chirping or leaves crinkling against branches or windows broke the silence.
Without a word, Batman fired his grapple at the rooftop and shot up onto the roof, Jason doing the same. They landed in unison, Batman silently creeping over to a skylight and peering in. He adjusted a setting on his cowl, frown growing as he searched for his missing family members.
"Something's wrong." He growled, looking over at the Red Hood. The younger blinked a bit, before looking closer as well. There were several medical gurneys set up in the warehouse, but no patients, and no other rooms visible from their location. Jason bit his lip, crossing his arms as frustration hit him. This was their only lead, where could they be?
"Got you."
With a sudden crash, the glass of the skylight shattered below their feet, sending the two tumbling into the warehouse. Jason sent his grapple out, wrapping around a steel beam and managing to control his fall. Batman merely landed in a crouch, eyes scanning the room quickly.
Hush hadn't shown himself yet, what exactly was happening?
The same voice from before spoke again, echoing through the warehouse.
"I know who you're looking for."
Jason whirled around, unsheathing the blades and clinging to them as he looked in every direction, trying to determine where the voice was coming from. His irritation grew as no answer was found. "Who's there!?" He demanded, body tensed and ready for a fight.
Batman remained quiet, trying to assess the location of the speaker. He slowly stood, batarangs clenched in his fingers.
"They aren't here."
The anticipation was killing him. Jason couldn't stand when villains pulled this macho 'hidden bad guy' schtick, it drove him crazy. "Show yourself!" He screamed, his voice echoing around the warehouse before both vigilantes were left in total silence.
Well, not total. There was some sort of hissing noise, but it was louder than it should be, all consuming-
Jason bolted awake with a cry, green eyes wide as they stared ahead at the walls of his dingy apartment building. He ran a hand through his sweaty locks, panting lightly. That had been some nightmare. Although, he couldn't quite remember what it had been about. He rolled out of bed, wincing as his acid burned leg twinged in pain. He reached for his bottle of painkillers only to find an empty bottle. Well, shit. Looks like he needed to get ahold of Alfred for more.
He shuffled along the wall, using it for support before he came to the dresser, phone thrown haphazardly on it and plugged into a charger hanging by a few measly wires. He dialed the Manor's familiar number, playing with a stray string on his shirt while he waited for Alfred to pick up.
"Hello, Wayne residence." the British voice spoke.
Jason gave a small sigh of relief. "Sorry to bother you so late, Alfred, but I'm out of pain meds for my leg, can you hook me up?"
A long pause, and then...
"Who is this?"
Jason blinked in confusion before replying. "Alfred, it's me. Jason."
Another long pause.
"Jason...Todd? Yes, well...I'm very sorry, I have been instructed to tell you that we will not associate with cold blooded murderers like yourself any longer. Good day." The phone went dead with a sharp 'click', Alfred's voice having been cold and uncaring.
Jason froze, staring at his phone in stunned disbelief. Even at his lowest, Alfred had never turned him away, especially knowing he was hurt. The betrayal stung. Stepping away in shock, he let the phone slip from his hand and hit the ground. As it struck the cold cement of his apartment, it made an earthy splat.
Jason's eyes opened again, to pure darkness.
Oh, no, please!
A second splat, as though mud was slopping onto something solid above him. Jason reached out with trembling hands only to find them stopped only a few inches higher than his nose by unresisting metal.
His coffin.
Home at last.
His scream came out somewhere between a broken shriek and a twisted laugh, as he was once again buried alive. Only this time, there was no way out.
His struggles grew still as Jason Todd stopped breathing.
This time when he snapped awake, Jason didn't know what was real and what wasn't. His arms were strapped down to a surgical table and he was staring up into a bright light hanging over his head. He cringed at the brightness, looking to the side. Two matching gurneys were on either side of him, with Dick and Tim to one side and Alfred and Damian to the other. All four had masks over their faces and were unconscious...or worse. He squinted bleary eyes over to the one free figure in the room, a man in a long white lab coat. His back was to them, and he seemed to be prepping surgical tools.
"Don't worry, son. Dad's here to fix you all up." Bruce's voice spoke, and the man turned around.
It was Bruce, and this time it was no nightmare. Jason would know those steely grey eyes anywhere.
Jason could feel the straps around his wrists tightening as he tugged and writhed. Something had happened to him, Bruce wouldn't do this to them, to him! And yet doubt tugged at his psyche, visions of Alfred denying him pain medication and being left to suffocate in his own coffin dancing in his head. But those weren't real, they were just nightmares!
...Weren't they?
Jason could distinctly remember his leg burning with pain, his whole body, in fact, and being unable to even twitch a finger to make it go away. He had heard Bruce's voice mumbling something back then, but why hadn't Bruce helped him? Why didn't he take the pain away?!
He also remembered blood dripping from his fingertips as he used his belt buckle and fingers to claw a hole into the lid of his wooden coffin, one eye nearly swollen shut and body aching with the pain of injuries that may or may not have been caused by a madman and a crowbar.
And now Bruce was approaching him with a syringe filled with a suspicious blue liquid, flicking it with a latex gloved finger.
"Shhh, Jason. Just go to sleep."
Bruce slid the needle into the bend of his elbow, and Jason felt the sedative slip into his bloodstream. No matter how hard he fought, the image of Bruce in front of him began to grow faded and blurry.
"N-nnn...!" He struggled desperately, trying not to let his father see how terrified he was. Wha was happening, why was his memory so jumbled up? Bruce reached down and grabbed the younger vigilante's chin, smirking in an unfamiliar way.
"Be a good boy and listen to your Daddy. Okay?" Bruce made Jason nod his head up and down, the younger man's vision going unfocused as he let out a disoriented moan of confusion, still desperately clinging to consciousness.
The vision of Bruce suddenly seemed to split as a shadowy figure loomed over Bruce and plunged a blade through his chest.
Bruce gaped in shock, blood dripping from the end of the sword sticking out in front of Jason's face. His gloved hands wrapped around the end as he sunk to his knees, wide eyes staring at the blade in stunned disbelief.
"Ah...nhg...!"
The shadow behind him blurred violently before Jason's eyes and spoke, trembling in rage.
"Not again. Not...ever again!"
Jason trembled on the gurney, eyes rolling up in his head as his body lost the fight with the sedative and everything went black.
Drindalis: I know, I'm sorry for once again leaving you all at a cliffhanger. I swear this one will not take two years for an update. :) Hopefully you enjoyed me playing a bit with the unreliable narrator trope, and don't worry, all will be revealed in the final chapter. Thank you all again, your support means the world to me!