A/N: Wow! Y'all are amazing, the response was great to last chapter. As always, please send in any scenes or situations you'd like to see. I still have my list and am slowly working my way through writing them!

Warnings: Joker and Jason, discussion of canonical death of a minor, violence on par with canon

Order of Chapters: The Doors We Open (Ch 9), How We Were (Ch 2 and 3), What We Say (Ch 5 and 7), When We Were (Ch 1), The Friends We Make (Ch 8 and 10), Family Trees (Ch 15 and 17), The Promises We Make (Ch 14), The Things We Forgive (Ch 11, 12, 13, and 18 (Aftermath)), The Roles We Play (Ch 16), Question Words (Ch 4), The Words We Can't Find (Ch 24), The Cables We Hang From (Ch. 22), The Ones We Lose (Ch 25 and 26), The Stories We Tell (Ch 6), The Names We Give (Ch 19 and 20), Translations (Ch 21)

Chapter 26: The Ones We Lose, Part 2

NOW

"Well well well, who do we have here?" The grating voice of Harley Quinn asked as she entered the room swinging her hammer in slow circles around in the air.

Jason glared. He was torn between shifting back, as far away as possible from the hammer and the inevitable pain, and moving as far towards Dick as he could, desperate to protect. Batman's head shifted slightly towards Quinn but Jason could tell his eyes were still squeezed tightly shut behind the lenses.

"What? No hello?" Quinn mocked. She tapped the hammer against the floor. "Hm!"

Jason hide the wince that wanted to escape. He knew she was looking for one of them to respond. Well, he wouldn't give in quite so easily.

"Fine," Harley sniffed, "I'll just hafta soften you boys up."

She swung the hammer and slammed it into Jason's left shin. He grunted in pain and surprise but did not open his mouth. She frowned.

"Ooookay, we'll try idiot number two." She slammed the hammer into Batman's left shoulder. Dick, dazed as he was by the head wound, did not respond in any way. Harley's light frown shifted into a full glare.

"Well, that's just rude!"

She tapped the handle of the hammer against her chin. "What can we do about this? See, Mista J isn't happy. He knows your buddy over there isn't the real Batman. He hasn't even threatened to break Mista J's legs once!"

Jason looked away. Harley he could deal with; she hadn't been around the last time and as much as she liked her hammer she really didn't pose the threat Joker did. It was her beau that gave him the sweats, as much as he didn't want to admit that the clown had any effect on him at all.

Dick did not appear to fear Harley either, not that Jason expected him to; he could never remember seeing Dick show fear for himself, only for others.

Without another word Harley twisted the hammer around and slapped the handle against the fingers of Jason's left hand. He sucked in a sharp breath in agony, unable to contain the small noise of pain as bones cracked between wood and steel. Harley's smile was cruel. Batman stared at the two of them with a blank face.

Then, Harley twirled on her hell.

"Tata boys!" she giggled. She danced from the room. The click of the lock echoed in the silence that followed her exit.

Jason worked to regain his breath. Hot fire shot down his arm in pulsing waves. He tried to twist his head to see the damage, but the time he had already spent suspended from his arms meant he lacked the strength to move that far.

Exhausted, worried about Dick, and desperately wishing he had never stopped to check on the 'damsel-in-distress" that had turned out to be Harley Quinn with a vial of knock-out drugs, Jason closed his eyes.

A short while later Jason heard Batman's cape rustling. Forcing himself to open his eyes he peered across to the other man. Batman's eyes were open and clearer than they had been in hours. Jason thought he might even be fully lucid.

"B?" he asked.

Dick made eye contact with Jason and quirked a small, apologetic smile. Jason rolled his eyes at the gesture.

"Head injury," he muttered to his brother, "I'd be a dick if I got mad." Batman snorted quietly at the pun. He twisted his hands in their manacles and finger-spelled.

Are you okay? He asked.

Jason rolled his eyes, "I'm fine. You're the one who's bleeding." It was true. Jason could deal with a few broken fingers and a sore shin, but blood was still shining on the side of Batman's face.

Report.

Jason grinned, "Right, Batman. As far as I can tell there's no surveillance, but your cowl would see that better than my mask-"

Nothing showing up.

"Good," Jason continued, "Harley has been here once. She says Joker thinks you're not the real Batman. Obviously, they're wrong." There might not have been any surveillance on them, but Jason didn't trust Harley or Joker not to be listening outside the door.

Obviously. Jason didn't like the look on Dick's face, but this wasn't the place to address those sorts of things.

Jason fell silent after that. He could tell just by looking that Dick was nursing a terrible headache and they would both need all their strength to get through whatever Joker had planned for them.

While Dick was grateful to be able to distinguish between past memories and present situations, he missed the disconnected feeling that had filled him since he was hit over the head halfway through patrol. At least in that haze he had been free from the gripping terror of what might happen to Jason. He hadn't needed to think about what would happen to his little brother because he was stupid enough to get captured in his second week wearing the cowl. Now, now all he could think about was the look of barely contained fear in Jason's eyes and the flake of broken helmet in his hair, the way the fingers of his left hand were swelling and turning blue, and the way his knees knocked against each other every so often. This was not why had had taken up the cowl. HE did it so none of the others would be targeted, so that they wouldn't have to face the terrors that Batman faced.

He had failed. Worse than that, he had failed and now Jason faced his worst nightmare and Dick couldn't even sign properly to attempt to comfort him.

Dick closed his eyes and tried to center himself. He needed to get them out of here as soon as possible. But how? His belt was gone. His gloves and boots (with their built in lock picks) were gone. His hands were manacled together and to the floor with less than six inches of chain separating him from the cold concrete and his feet were similarly bound. Jason appeared to be in an equivalent position, save for the fact that he hung from a pipe.

He knew there was a way out of all this. He KNEW it. But, his brain was fuzzy and this thoughts flitted away before he could grasp them. It was a feeling he recognized from the terrible weeks after he lost his words.

He wished Bruce was there. If he were still alive none of this would be happening, of that, Dick was sure.

THEN

When Dick managed to drag himself out of the comfort of unconsciousness night had fallen. He forced himself to sit up and immediately had to pause for breath. The world slowly rotated around him in a vaguely sickening dance.

He allowed himself a few second to adjust before standing. Jason had been gone for nearly a full day and a sense of urgency was beginning to eat away at Dick. In deference to the shivers that still wracked his frame Dick kept his quilt wrapped around him shoulders as he descended into the Cave.

Tim was in the large plush chair in front of the computer tapping away at a code he and Dick had been working on for the last week. Cassandra perched on one of the counters nearby with the large book of stories Bruce bought her to practice reading. As Dick approached she twisted the book and pointed at a word.

"That's penguin," Tim told her, "What story are you reading?"

She flipped back a page, "Mister Pop-er's Pen-guins." The words, while difficult and stilted, flowed so much better than they had even two weeks previously. Dick smiled fondly at the two of them. He was so proud of how hard she was working to overcome the deficits her father had left her with.

"That's a good one!" Tim enthused, "There's a movie we can watch when you finish."

"Thatreport runs scrawny," Dick muttered as he draped his arms over Tim's chair. The casual pose belied his need for the support of the chair.

Cass looked to Tim for translation.

"He says the movie is bad. But he also didn't like Saving Private Ryan so you know, his taste is a little questionable."

Cass smirked. Dick smacked Tim's head lightly. Tim twisted to smile up at him.

"Why are you even up?" Tim asked. "You look like death."

Funny. Dick smirked. So, you nerds want to help me or not?

Tim sobered, "With what?" Cass closed her book.

Jason is going through some shit, don't ask what I can't tell you yet, and I need to find him. Timmy I know you've been messing around with GPS trackers.

"Yeah!" Tim perked up, "I've been trying to make them small enough and discrete enough to get one on Bruce without him noticing."

Dick rolled his eyes, I know. I found three prototypes on me last week.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Tim muttered. "Cass and I had a bet about who could plant more on their target."

Dick faced Cass, Jason was your target? She knew the signs for 'Jason' and 'target' so she nodded.

Good. Tim pull up those trackers now.

Tim clicked a few keys and a map appeared on the largest of the computer's screens. Five dots blinked innocently at the three of them. Two appeared to be in the Manor or Cave. One was in Gotham proper, and two were in Israel.

I assume the ones in Tel Aviv are Jay, Dick signed slowly, but what are these three. He indicated the others.

"Got bored," Cass explained, "One on Alfred. Other two fell off Jason."

Dick nodded. Got it. Okay. Looks like I'm headed to Israel. Timmy, keep me updated if Jason moves. Forward the coordinates to the Batplane.

"Bruce has the plane."

What? Nevermind, I'll take the Wayne Enterprises jet.

Eleven hours later Dick woke up from a cough medicine induced nap as the plane descended into Tel Aviv. Tim had updated him with the address of a hotel near the center of the city and the room number that Jason was staying in.

"Frankly, I'm a little shocked by the lack of security in their system-" Tim had tried to tell him. But, Cassandra clapped her hand over his mouth and stared at Dick.

"Keep him safe?" She asked.

Dick smiled. Always, little sis.

Jason arrived back in his hotel room discouraged by how difficult it was to find Sharmin Rosen. Surely, with the resources of Batman behind him (even if the big man himself currently wasn't) he should be able to find one woman?

He was willing to admit that perhaps the situation with Bruce had him a little off his game. Really, everything lately had just seemed to piss them both off. Jason couldn't seem to forget Bruce's disappointed looks and Bruce couldn't seem to forgive any error on patrol. Jason sighed. He opened the door and immediately froze. The window was open. He had made sure to lock down all possible entrances before he left.

There were no lights on, but the moon was full so Jason was able to creep further into the room. There was someone in his bed. He grabbed up a knife from the room service cart.

No one was going to- Wait, was that-

"Dick?" he whispered. His elder brother was curled in a tight ball on the side of the bed nearest the open window. There were two spots of color high on his cheeks. Obviously his cold had not improved since the last time Jason saw him.

Dick's eyes cracked open when Jason took a step closer. Jay?

"Yeah, what the hell are you doing here? You look like shit."

People keep saying that. Dick shoved himself to a sitting position, There's no way I was going to leave you to do this alone, kiddo.

Jason rolled his eyes to hide the feeling that was surging in his chest, "I'm not a kid, Dick."

You're my kid brother. Dick yanked him into the bed. That's enough for me.

The next morning they would have to search for Sharmin Rosen, they would need to talk about exactly what Jason had discovered, and why Bruce was so angry. But, just then, Jason was happy to curl up with Dick beside him and bask in the knowledge that Dick would never let anything bad happen to him.