"The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies."
-Anonymous
Disclaimer: Imma cry… I don't own it… Except for my OCs… Except for Wolf…
I meant it. Every last thing I said. I'll never go back to that, ha. And to Hell with being a 'civilian' too.
-Titan Tower-
"Robin..." Beast Boy said accusingly; he, Raven, Cyborg, and Starfire stood around their leader. Robin sat, head bowed. "What was that."
"I..." The former sidekick began, fumbling for words. "Guys-"
"No, Robin," Cyborg cut in. "Who. Is. He?"
The Gothamite bowed his head again, dark hair falling around his head. "Listen-"
"No! Robin, I'm not gonna ask again!" Cyborg said.
Robin was silent for a few moments. "About a year ago... a little over, I don't remember... someone found out the secret identities of every JL member. They... deemed him a threat and wiped his mind..."
Raven and Starfire stared at him, the former accusingly, the latter in confusion. Cyborg groaned and stepped away. "You did not."
"Cy, it's... it's the Jester, okay? He's- was the Jester."
Beast Boy threw his hands up. "The friggin' Jester?! The friggin' protégé of the Joker?! Dude!"
"Robin, I do not understand." Star said quietly.
Robin stood up defensively. "No, none of you understand, okay?"
They went silent.
"When he... when he got wiped, I saw him. There was no Joker, no- no insanity. Just a scared kid. They took his memories, his very personality. They took him and just... factory defaulted him. I was ashamed for them. I told him I was leaving and... and he must've followed me, must've remembered me from the time when he was a captive of the most dangerous man in the world. I don't know what's happening, but he's... he might be relapsing and I can't see him go through that. I need your guys' help. If not as friends, then as heroes, because if he gets his memories back and decides that what he's done here wasn't worthwhile, then who knows what he'll do."
For a long moment, no one said anything.
"You're right." Beast Boy said quietly.
Starfire nodded in agreement. "He is our friend. And he needs our help."
"Alright, so what can we do?" Cyborg asked, crossing his arms.
Ace sat quietly, the fan hanging above his bed the only sound in the room. The blinds were pulled, casting the spacious area in an eerie, dark-blue tinge.
The anti-hero stared at the mirror across from him. His black hair hung around his head loosely, creating a frame for the pale, scarred face that stared back at him. Differently colored eyes searched his face, thoughtful.
His phone rang and his hand snatched out, looking at the caller ID. 732; Gotham County's area code.
He dropped the cell and let it ring, staring at it silently. It went to voicemail, though the caller didn't leave a message.
The room went silent again, save for the mechanical hum and whir of the fan.
"You know, it's not that hard. Just pick. Up. The. Phone." The Joker said, walking into Ace's line of sight.
The anti-hero shook, gritting his teeth tightly. "You're not real."
"Oh, of course I am! I'm as real as it gets, kid! Your head is my head- always has, always will!" The man broke out into laughter.
Ace looked to the psychopath. "You're not real, and you can't hurt me. I'm safe."
The Joker's smile faded into a vicious one. "Oh, I don't need to touch you to hurt you. Trust me." He winked and when Ace blinked, he was gone.
The phone rang again.
Ace turned to the phone, frowning. He whipped his head back to the mirror- and sucked in a breath.
The blue-painted walls of the room had been switched for yellowing, peeling wallpaper; the fan replaced by dim LED lights hanging above his head, the spacious room was now a stretching hallway, doors lining either side as white-yellow as the walls and tiled floor.
An almost animalistic scream echoed from deeper down the hall.
Ace blinked again and Arkham Asylum was gone.
He bolted from his bed, half jogging to the door. He didn't want to face the Titans, but he couldn't be in that room.
Not alone.
Ace leaned against the countertop, struggling to control his breath.
"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real," He muttered to himself, like a mantra.
"Ace?"
The anti-hero jumped at his name, turning on his heel, hands fisted. Raven stared at him. He shivered slightly and tensed his body, trying to calm himself. He held his chin high in mock confidence, clenching his teeth together. "What."
"Are you alright?"
Ace turned back to the counter, staring out at the dark sky through the windows. "I'm fine."
"Ace-"
"I"M FINE!" He roared, slamming a fist into the countertop. She jumped in shock and all the fight left his body. "Just... just leave me alone."
She didn't do anything for a moment before the soft padder of her slippers told him she was gone.
"One gone," A voice whispered in his ear. "Four to go."
Ace lay in his bed, blankets kicked off and onto the ground as he rolled restlessly.
"Come home, bud! There's nothing left for you here; just... shattered dreams and broken promises. Here, you shatter the dreams and make the promises. Think about it. You. Know. You. Want. To."
The hero rolled onto his side and stilled, staring at the yellow communicator on his table, sitting idly.
"What are you here? A pawn? A little thing to be sacrificed? Come back, kiddo; and be a god! Be me."
Something clicked in his head and he bolted to his feet, mind whirring. He grabbed a backpack, throwing his phone, the communicator, and his bat into it. He bolted for the door; and walked straight into Cyborg's chest.
"Woah, woah, woah, dude, what's the hurry?" The taller teen asked before spying the backpack. "Uh... where ya going?"
Ace ran a hand through his hair. "I, uh... uh... I'm..."
"Ace. We're here for you. You don't have to run. We've got you." Cy said uncharacteristically softly.
"I'm not running."
"Yes. You are. Dude, we're not your enemies. We're not going to turn on you. We're your friends. We just need you to see that."
Ace went limp. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Sorry, just... I just can't think right now."
"Get some sleep, bro. We'll, uh, see you tomorrow and can figure this mess out."
Ace nodded and turned on his heel, walking back into the room.
Robin sat at his desk, hands buried in his hair in frustration, peering at the computer screen in front of him. Recall, relapse, amnesia, returning memory, Alzheimer's, hypnosis, mind control- nothing. He could find nothing that would help his friend-
"Titans."
The voice came through his communicator, quiet, but a familiar sharp edge to it.
Robin snatched his communicator up, staring at it. "Ace?"
"Hey. This isn't easy, but I'm leaving. Don't come after me. Don't try to chase me. Where I'm going, you can't follow me. Shouldn't, at least. This isn't goodbye. I doubt it will be; for worse. I can... guarantee for worse. I'm sorry."
The line went dead.
"Ace?" Robin asked again.
"Robin!" Cy yelled from the hallway. "Ace isn't in his room."
"Rooftop?"
"I don't think so- BB, go check it out."
"Right!"
Robin stared at his communicator, face dawning in horror. Where I'm going you can't follow me. Shouldn't.
"I know where he's going." He said quietly. He bowed his head in pain- and defeat.
-Several Months Later; Legion of Supervillains HQ, Paris, France-
"Victory is at hand," The Brain droned, the speaker to his small, mechanical body buzzing through the mouth of the designed skull beneath the glass dome that displayed his brain in a green liquid. "And for your part I give you… Robin." The collected crowd of villains cheered as Robin was pushed onto the main platform with the Brain, standing above the supervillains.
Behind the Brain and Robin was a wall filled top to bottom with blue cells, like a honeycomb. Inside every one- was a Titan, frozen in looks of horror and anger as they stared blankly at the scene, unmoving- unblinking.
"This isn't over." Robin growled.
"For you. It most certainly is." The Brain gloated back, pride in his voice.
As a sickly old man dressed in a white jumpsuit- Professor Chang- turned towards the lever preparing to freeze Robin, the crowd's cheering was interrupted by sharp whistling, cutting through the air.
Murmuring amongst themselves, the villains parted to let the stranger through.
The young man stepped up to the stage, looking up curiously at the leaders of the Legion, his dark hair falling to one side. He raised a white-painted eyebrow. "Really?" He asked, stuffing a hand in his pocket. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and a dark-gray vest, matching gray slacks and a gray tie.
The tall, skinny woman in red spandex, Madame Rouge's, eyes opened in recognition. "Wait, you are-" She said in a French accent before the newcomer interrupted her.
"I mean... really?" He asked boredly. "I leave for, what, a few months and it all goes to... shit?" He turned to the crowd behind him, jumping up to sit on the edge of the stage. "Seriously, how did these idiots manage to gather like this? Unprofessional lot of ya. I mean... you guys honestly think that you've actually done something. Sure, sure," He said dismissively, waving his hand. "The 'Titans Worldwide' thing's pretty intimidating, but I mean... you guys do know that you're only still around because you're flying under the radar, right? I mean, give the JL a call and you guys would get wiped out- it took you this long to capture teenagers? Honestly."
It was silence.
The teen sighed, combing his hair backwards. "Robin, seriously, hurry up and deal with these guys.
Robin seemed to be in shock. "A-"
Rouge suddenly laughed, cutting the hero off.
"How rude." The newcomer chided, frowning as he turned over his shoulder at the leaders.
"Do you think we fear you? You have no power here, bouffon. There is no master here to order us." She laughed again cruelly.
The teen sighed and turned back to the crowd of villains. "Honestly. So unprofessional. Seriously, where the hell is Victor already? I'm beginning to grow bored of this."
The Brain cut in for the first time. "Victor?" He droned. "Who is Victor?"
"Jesus Christ, I don't miss you people. Victor Stone... ring any bells? Okay, Cyborg?"
Almost immediately on queue there was a rumbling and a massive hole exploded from the floor. Cyborg leapt through, a gaggle of teens- superheroes, following behind him. Beast Boy sprinted through the door at the back, another group of Titans following him.
"Booyah." Cyborg said lowly, raising his sonic cannon.
Madame Rouge, the gorilla, and the elderly man in the military uniform leapt off the stage, leaving the teen, Brain, and the Professor sitting alone. Robin leapt into the fray, as the heroes and villains clashed. Some of the heroes broke away from the fight, moving to the back of the platform to free their frozen comrades, bolstering the ranks of the Titans.
The young man sat on the edge, staring at the battle, thoughts whirring in his head. "Next time you try to kill someone, make sure they're dead."
"You have ruined us." The Brain droned.
The teen looked back at him. "Of course," He turned back to the battle. "This is just a stepping stone. You had no ambition, Brain. This shouldn't have been the endgame. It's my duty, in the grand scheme of things, to prolong the inevitable. It gets bigger, much bigger. If you only could see that, this wouldn't have happened. Still, it's not personal, sir. Just business."
The Brain was quiet as the heroes quickly trimmed down on the numerous villains, and Professor Chang, leaving the mastermind and the teenager sitting silently.
Robin huffed in exertion and turned his gaze to the stage, his heart stopping. The painted teen staring back at him shattered his heart.
He walked to the stage with resolution anyways.
"Au revoir, Brain." The teen said, ignoring the sounds of the defeated villains being captured and frozen in the blue cells the heroes had occupied only a short time ago. Two of the teens pushed the Brain forwards towards the freezing device, sending him up the enormous wall to one of the cells at the top.
The teens mingled amongst themselves, celebrating and making proper introductions to one another.
Five stepped up to the stage, staring at the lone figure on it.
He said nothing as they approached, placing his hands on his knees and idly kicking his feet.
Starfire slowly floated up to his level, staring in concern at him. She reached a tentative hand to his face. "...Ace?"
The former Titan turned his head, avoiding her touch. He closed his eyes and shook his head, scarred cheeks visible underneath his white paint. "Not anymore."
"Jay," Robin said quietly. "What happened?"
The lone teen turned back to his former team and let out a quiet sigh as Starfire sadly dropped back to the ground. "I'm not Jay either."
Raven was quiet.
Beast Boy grinned. "Well, you really saved our butts. I don't know if we coulda did it without Robin. You picked a good time to come back."
Cy shared the grin. "Seriously, it looked for a moment like we were toast. I don't know if we would have made it in time without you to stall."
"Save... save the thank yous."
"Jester," Robin said, stepping forwards. "We need to-"
"There it is," The Jester interrupted quietly. He reached onto his neck and peeled off a thin membrane, like a Band-Aid. A small black dot sat in the middle of it. "I haven't been sitting at home, getting nice clothes and new face paint all this time, I'm sorry to say. I've been working, I guess is the terminology. I... I won't say I'm sorry. I'm not. You shoulda seen it coming. From the beginning. And... since you didn't- Hell, to phrase one of Lilith's bands; 'Listen up, listen up, there's a devil in the church, got a bullet in the chamber... this is gonna hurt.'"
Robin shied backwards to the support of his team, hand slowly snaking towards his belt. "What do you mean?" He asked cautiously.
The Jester held the thin membrane close to his mouth. "The Jester," He said before throwing it to the side. He stood up on the stage and reached into his vest; and pulled out a pistol. "Nine millimeter. The last one I had left. I thought it was kind of fitting- old life, new life, old life. This circle we run," He held it steadily at Robin.
"Hey, Cy, remember that game? The one with the little robot... Borderlands, I think it was? You remember, the trailer? 'Unce, unce, doomsday.'"
There was a few moments of tenseness, the rest of the united Titans ignorant to the events at the front, before the room was filled with a cacophony of explosions, the metal walls of the underground base disappearing in fiery blasts as men in black charged into the former headquarters. More ran in from the entrance; others through the hole Cyborg created in the middle of the floor.
The Jester waved his gun. "You know, I planned this thing out better in my head. Gloating, monologuing, etc, etc, but I'm feeling pretty subdued at the moment. I don't want to kill you. I don't. You guys mean too much for that. But, in the grand scheme of things, we just can't spare any single hero possible. I understand that you're mad, confused, and all that; but please. Think of better times. Don't let me live with the fact you died in anger or fear."
"JJ, what the hell are you doing?!" Robin yelled.
"I told you. I'm not JJ. I'm not Jay. I'm not Ace, not the Ace of Spades; I'm the Jester. The figurative Clown Prince of Crime. It took me a long time, a lot of soul searching and consideration, to figure that out. We can't run, Dick! It doesn't work like that. I'm sorry that you never figured that out."
Robin growled angrily. "The JL will stop you- we will stop you. No one will remember this; remember whatever this is. No one will remember you as the Clown Prince of Crime."
The world seemed to stop for the Jester. Something clicked in his head, leaving just him and Robin; no Titans, no soldiers, no frozen supervillains.
"No?"
"No."
The Jester went silent, staring at his former teammate hard. "...Actually. You know what? Change of plans."
The world seemed to resume as Beast Boy frowned in anger and hurt. "What the hell does that mean?!"
"I'm not going to kill you. Honest."
Robin narrowed his eyes behind his mask. "What are you planning?"
The Jester walked to the side, jumping off the stage away from the Titans as he sauntered off. "Big things."
Robin scowled at the numerous guns pointed at him. "Where do you think you're going?"
The former Titan stopped and turned over his shoulder. "...To televise my revolution," He continued his march away. "We're leaving, men. Titans, in half an hour you may leave. If you try before that, I will blow this place to the ground. Do not push me... It's... been an honor."
The Jester ascended the stairs, upwards and upwards, a contingent of the soldiers behind him, passing through an underground metro, a bus shooting noisily by, and upwards still, until the brisk air of Paris' night greeted him, the Eiffel Tower glowing like a beacon only a few hundred meters away.
He stepped from the stairs to the street nearby, ignoring the curious looks the Parisians were sending him, making his way towards a large black SUV with tinted windows. It clicked with the telltale sign of the doors unlocking and he jumped into the back.
"Sir." Charade greeted from the driver's seat on the right, face lacking in paint and his green dreads pulled in a ponytail behind him. He pulled off of the curb and into traffic, driving away from Paris' inner city and towards the countryside.
The Jester nodded. "Good to see you. Was the flight bad?"
"No sir."
The Titan turncoat nodded again, falling silent as he stared out at the passing shops, adjusting his vest. The lit up city reflected on the window as he lost himself in thought.
"Home?" Charade asked.
"Yes. I'd like to go now." The Jester replied quietly, not turning his mismatched eyes from the window.
-Several Hours Later-
The Jester stepped off of the plane, looking up at the dusty warm orange of the city's dusk sky.
Charade walked up to him, shotgun in hand. "The runway's clear, sir."
The teen nodded. "Alright. Send one of the mercenaries to pick up the car. Have someone else dispose of the plane, please. Then, uh, sign the mercs' checks and send them home- or, kill them. I'll leave that to your discretion."
The bodyguard nodded, turning away without another word and signaling one of the black-clad mercenaries to come over to him.
The Jester took a seat on the bottom step of the plane, staring at the skyline.
He took a deep breath and then released it, feeling a weight momentarily disappear from his shoulders- before being replaced by a new, but familiar, oppressive feeling.
"Home sweet home," He whispered to himself, momentarily replacing Wayne Tower with Titan Tower in his head. "I missed you, Gotham."
A/N: Oh lawdy, a timely update? This has to be some kind of record. That said, meant to have this up yesterday. Internet got cut. Oh well.
Feast your eyes, for they do not deceive you! The Jester has returned! Amen! Amen!
Don't be mistaken though, this arc is far from over. The fat lady has not sung, and there are five heroes with a vendetta-
And one villain with a master plan.
-Fucking Pumped, Infernokota