Every city had criminals.
Some had supervillains.
Only one had the Joker.
The debut of Batman saw the fall of organized crime but also the rise of the vigilantes infamous rogues gallery. People debated over which was worse and whose fault it was but in the end it was all semantics. The villains were here, and they were here to stay.
However, that had been years ago and like most cities rife with super-criminality, Gotham had long since constructed and implemented protocols to mitigate the damage caused by such incidents, allowing them to conduct their daily business in a mostly normal fashion. Even with the psychotic slant Gotham villains had, their obsession with Batman further aided in this endeavor. As Batman only operated at night except when conducting business with the Justice League, most Gotham villains attacked at night. With that in their favor, Gothamites were able to protect themselves better simply by not going out once the sun went down when a particularly dangerous villain had escaped from Arkham.
Yet, even with all that, there was not a single villain in the city, nor the world for that matter, that could ever compare to the Joker.
That was not a compliment, of course. The man (if he could even be called that) was psychotic even by Gotham standards. No one liked the Joker. He was sociopathic, he was cruel, and his body count numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands. Even the staunchest opponents of the death penalty or any sort of lethal justice were willing to make an exception for the Joker. Their arguments were based on the idea of change, and the Joker was never, ever going to change. More than one person wished that Batman or the police or someone would finally put the clown in the ground, and few could blame them.
But if he could be credited with anything, is that he was never boring. He was so unpredictable that most were certain that not even he knew his next move. The only thing anyone could count on is that he never did anything without a bang. The Joker was a showman above all else, and his schemes were nothing less than the most violent spectacles a person could possibly imagine.
So, whenever the Joker escaped from Arkham, the entire city was on alert. Wayne Enterprises, the city's primary provider for super-related relief, handed out gas masks and antidotes to everyone, free of charge. Barely anyone walked the streets, and when they did it was with shifty eyes and some kind of weapon on their person. Every building in the city was a push of a button away from total lockdown. Even the GCPD, usually rife with internal conflict, was totally unified in hunting the clown down. Even the most corrupt cop knew that aiding the Joker was folly. The madman had no allegiance to anyone except his own whims, and inevitably betrayed and murdered those who helped him in the most hilariously cruel ways.
It's for this reason that Jason felt no shame in telling Cass that her speech therapy was canceled until the clown was back in Arkham. He knew damn well that, as skilled as she was, she was not ready for the likes of the Joker. He was reluctant enough letting Tim and Damian and even Stephanie go to school during these times. If he could keep Cass with him for the time being, he would.
Dick had wanted to stay as well, even spent his last night fruitlessly scouring the city with Bruce for the Joker's location, but had been forced back to Bludhaven the following day. His vacation from work was over and Nightwing had been gone from the city for too long. He was needed there. Dick had protested, of course, but Bruce had put his foot down and Jason had backed him up. He had a responsibility to Gotham, yes, but he had a responsibility to Bludhaven too. More than that, the Joker was very unlikely to go after him once he was out of Gotham. Everyone else had to stay, but Dick didn't. His older brother had left very reluctantly after that.
His reaction wasn't surprising. The Joker had always been taken more seriously than most of Batman's foes, but after Barbara's paralysis and Jason's death he had been regarded as the worst of them all (barring, perhaps, Ra's al Ghul). That feeling had only doubled after learning that, in a possible future, the Joker had finally succeeded in killing Bruce. And with Jason's return and Cass and Damian's subsequent joining of the family…there was so much more to lose now. It was why they were all going spare trying to find him.
Jason, of course, was the worst of them all. Nobody knew better than him how dangerous the Joker could truly be. He had learned that lesson painfully, time and time again. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep well until the bastard was off the streets and back in Arkham where he belonged. In that, Bruce and him were of an accord.
That didn't stop them from clashing anyway.
"YOU'RE BENCHING ME!?"
Tim winced, as did Cass. Bruce crossed his arms, looking completely unrepentant.
"You cannot bench me," Jason hissed desperately, "You know how dangerous he is! You need every pair of eyes you can get out there looking for him!"
"And I do. Barbara has Black Canary and Huntress out there searching for him as well. Robin—"
"—can take care of himself, I know, but still! We shouldn't take any chances! I know the Joker as well as you do, I can—"
"No, Jason, and that's final! I can't…I can't…" Bruce's voice broke off, and suddenly Jason felt twice as terrible as before. Why hadn't he seen it before? It was obvious why Bruce didn't want him searching for the Joker. The last time he had been in close proximity with that godforsaken clown, he had been beaten to near death with a crowbar and then blown up.
That wouldn't happen this time. They both knew it. But the loss was still raw and Jason's own reaction to finding out about the escape had hardly been the most encouraging thing. Was it really worth it?
Finally, he made a decision. "Fine. But I'm still suiting up just in case you need backup. And I'll be watching the cameras alongside Alfred."
Bruce's shoulders slumped in relief. He could handle that. He just needed to make sure that Jason didn't need to intervene. "Alright then."
"What of me?" Cass timidly asked.
"No," both Batmen said in unison. That, at least, they were in complete agreement on.
However, Jason still felt the need to elaborate. "Cass, you're an amazing fighter, probably the best out of all of us, but you're still in training. And the Joker…" Jason scrunched up his eyes, briefly losing himself in dark memories, "…taking on the Joker takes more than fighting skill. Trust me. You're not ready."
Cass seemed to accept that, and nodded. Jason was relieved. He didn't want to start an argument with her as well. He then turned to the last occupant of the Cave, who had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation. Clasping his younger brother's shoulders, Jason crouched down so he was eye level with Tim, face set.
"Do not take him on by yourself. I don't care how well you did the first time you went against him solo, you even so much as suspect he's anywhere near your vicinity, you call for help. From Bruce, from Babs, from me — I don't care who it is, as long as you do it. You call for help and you stay hidden until that help arrives. Alright?"
Tim nodded slowly. Time would tell if he obeyed Jason's orders, but it would have to do for now.
He turned back to Bruce, as looked at him pleadingly, no doubt remembering the last time he saw his father before a face-off with the Joker. "You be careful too, okay? Don't indulge him unless you have to."
Bruce put a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. "I won't," he said softly, and pulled Jason into a strong hug.
Jason returned it fiercely and hoped, not for the first time, he wasn't making a mistake.
An hour or so after that, Batman and Robin were off for a particularly difficult patrol. Jason had suited up as well, though kept his face mask and domino off for the time being. There was no need to conceal his identity in the Cave.
Instead, he had his laptop open and was working on the file he had on the Joker. He knew that after the Joker was back in Arkham, he would have to come clean about everything he knew about the clown to his family. He had hoped that he would have more time, that he wouldn't have to burden them with this knowledge, but of course, life had decided otherwise. Whenever it came to that damn clown, things always had to be as difficult as possible.
Cass, instead of turning in like he suggested, had instead elected to do more training. She was familiarizing herself with the various tools they had, including the grappling hook and batarangs. There were also some of the more esoteric equipment they had at their disposal, including the shark-repellent spray and the bat-beacon. He had warned her about those — the last thing they needed right now was an accidental medical emergency.
The elevator chimed, indicating Alfred's arrival. However, Jason's ears picked up a second pair of footsteps, this one considerably lighter, and frowned, closing his laptop and turning around. "You should be in bed, Damian," he said sternly.
Damian scowled at him. "I couldn't sleep," he explained, his eyes briefly flashing up to the main monitor of the Bat-Computer with worry. On the screen was a visual of both Batman and Robin, searching different parts of the city for Gotham's most notorious supervillain.
Jason sighed, and gestured for him to grab a chair and sit next to him. Alfred, carrying a platter of sandwiches and a pitcher of water, set the food down on a nearby table, near some plates and cups they kept stored down at the Cave for long nights in. Like tonight.
"What's wrong?" Jason asked gently.
Damian's ever-present scowl deepened. "The man Father and Drake are searching for. He's the one that killed you, isn't he?"
Jason stiffened slightly. "Yes," he said finally, "he is. Did your mother tell you about him?"
"Just that he was a madman. A monster. Someone that should've been put down a long time ago."
Of course that's what she said. Jason sighed. She isn't wrong, though. "The Joker is everything your mother says he is. And he didn't just kill me, Damian. He's also the reason why Babs is in that wheelchair."
His younger brother eyes rose and narrowed sharply at that. From behind him, he could see Cass freeze mid-throw. They had yet to tell her that little bit of information too. It hadn't been for any malicious reason, truthfully; it had just been lost in the worry and stress of trying to find the Joker. After all, while Barbara and him had suffered horribly at the hands of the Joker, Jason knew full well that there were others that had suffered worse.
"We're just two of the many lives he's ruined, and many more will follow the longer he lives. That's why we're so desperate to find him. He's not like your mother's family, Damian. He's not pretending to be some grand visionary." Jason clicked his teeth. "He just wants to watch the world burn."
"Then why he isn't he dead?!" Damian burst out, and everyone flinched at the question. From the corner of his eye he could spot Alfred trembling slightly as he poured himself a cup of water. He imagined that his surrogate grandfather had asked himself the same after those two tragedies. Jason himself had asked the same more than once, and had learned the answer in the worst way possible. "I know Father doesn't kill, that he's devoted himself to being a hero, but can't he just make an exception? Just this once?"
"He nearly did, Damian," Jason replied, silencing the boy, "After I died, he nearly beat the Joker to death, and if Superman hadn't stopped him, probably would've succeeded. And he would've lived to regret it for the rest of his life, no matter how justified he was."
"You have no idea how close our father is to the edge every single night he goes out there. How much he wishes he could do what you're suggesting. But he can't, because he fears what he'll become if he crosses that line."
Damian swallowed, no doubt thinking about his own childhood. About how killing had been treated as another tool to be used, something that should be done as easy as breathing and thought of little after. His time with his father's family had taught him that such thinking wasn't as simple for most people as it was for his mother's family. "What he'll become?"
"A monster, Damian. Not like the Joker, but like your grandfather. Someone who believes that the ends justify the means, no matter what those means are. Someone that, no matter how good their intentions, is honestly no better than the people they fight against," Jason explained tiredly. "When you kill someone, it changes you. There's no going back after that. You'll have to live with it for the rest of your life. And even if you forgive yourself for it, even if you never kill again, the option will always be there, and you'll be haunted by it until the day you die."
His words resonated throughout the Cave, and he could see a look of sympathy and understanding in both the eyes of Alfred and Cass. They had killed too. They both knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Our father can't handle that. He's barely hanging onto his sanity as it is. So don't push on him it, okay?"
Damian nodded slowly, though he still had an inquisitive look on his face. "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"Why haven't you killed him?"
Jason froze.
"You've killed before, Jason. I know it. I can see it in your eyes, and your explanation confirms it. So why haven't you killed him?"
It wouldn't have been hard, is what Damian didn't say. Jason could've easily snuck into Arkham and killed the Joker before anyone else had realized it. He had the skills, and Talia could've given him the tools. Damian knew that. And judging by the looks both Alfred and Cass were shooting him, they knew too. More than that, they, unlike Damian, knew Jason had plenty more reasons to kill Joker besides his death and Barbara's crippling.
He was from the future. He knew all the terrible things the Joker would go on to do, all the thousands of people he would maim and slaughter for the sake of his own amusement. All the tragedy he wrought upon Gotham. The biggest and most glaring one, of course, being his murder of Bruce.
Jason, more than anyone else, had the justification, if not the right, to put the bastard in the ground where he belonged.
So why hadn't he?
He knew full why he hadn't — why he couldn't, no matter how much he desperately wanted to. But he couldn't tell that to Damian right now. The youngest member of the family was the only one not to know his secret, and Jason had every intention of keeping it that way for as long as possible. If Damian figured it out on his own, fine, but for now…
Well, a little bit of the truth would have to do.
"I want to, Damian. God, I want to so much it hurts. But I can't. It would hurt my family, doing that, no matter how much they'd understand. And more than that…" Jason exhaled deeply, "…it would destroy Gotham."
There was a sound of glass shattering at his words as everyone stared at him in shock and horror. Jason had said nothing about that, after all.
"…what?" Damian asked quietly, disbelievingly.
Instead of answering, Jason went down to one knee and cupped his brother's face. "Do you trust me, Damian?"
Slowly, Damian nodded.
"Then know that I'm telling you the truth — if the Joker dies, then it will ruin Gotham. Ruin all of us. I can't tell you why yet, but one day I will. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Good," Jason pulled his brother forward into an embrace, "It'll be fine, Damian. I promise."
He felt his brother grab at his suit, and hoped life wouldn't make a liar out of him.
"Master Jason," Alfred said pointedly once Jason returned from settling Damian back into his bed for sleep. Over at the mats, Cass was watching the confrontation. "Explain."
"Alfie—"
"Did you think I haven't noticed, Master Jason? That no one has noticed?" The butler sounded both incensed and worried, which was understandable. "Master Bruce told me what you said to him about the Joker. Make no mistake, we have been wracking our minds to understand what could possibly make act that way. But this? I know you've been keeping things from us, but this is something you should have told us about weeks ago!"
"I know, Alfie, I know! I fucked up, okay! But when it comes to him…when it comes to him…" Jason grimaced, "Almost all of my greatest regrets involve him. Of all the countless enemies I've had over the course of my life, there's no one I hate and fear more. And if I could kill him again, I would. Not just for our sakes, but for everyone's. If you knew about all the things he's going to do…" He shook his head.
Alfred sighed. "Master Jason, I sympathize with your plight. We all do, and that is why we have not been pumping you for the more…sensitive information. But whatever it is about the Joker that spooks you, we need to know, and soon. If you haven't forgotten, Helena Bertinelli is one of the people hunting him down, and I doubt she'll be able to restrain herself if she finds him."
"And I will tell you everything. All of you. I promise. I just…" Jason closed his eyes, "I just need to prepare myself. It's…a lot."
"I doubt it could be any more revolutionary than what you've already told us, Master Jason."
"You'd be surprised, Alfred." Jason smiled mirthlessly. "You'd be surprised."
Before anymore could be sound, a loud siren was heard on the Computer. Jason quickly rushed to the keyboard and pulled up the accompanying information, while Alfred and Cass congregated behind him.
"By God…" Alfred summed up their reaction when they processed what, exactly, they were seeing.
"He blew up…?" Cass followed, eyes wide.
Jason simply frowned. "A clinic. High-end, in the better part of town. Why, I can't say. Knowing him he probably thought it was funny or something. Luckily, it's night, so no one should have been in the building."
"Even so, we should remain vigilant," with that, Alfred activated the comms, "Batman, Robin, did you get the alerts?"
"We did. Can we confirm it was the Joker?"
"It looks that way. There's a distinct Joker symbol that's painted on a pile of debris outside the blaze. We'll have to run forensics to make sure but at this juncture we can assume it's him."
A grunt followed that statement. "What's the motive for this?"
Jason crossed his arms. "Well, the overall one seems to be the same as it's always been. Attention, from you and the city. And a laugh. Can't forget that."
"But what about this makes it so funny?" Robin asked"And why blow up a clinic with no one inside?"
"Maybe it's a warning?" Jason shrugged. "One of the Joker's core aspects is his obsession with Batman. The only reason he ever bothers to escape is to play around with him. But you can't play if the other player doesn't know there's a game going on."
"If that's the case, then what's the game?"
"I don't know. Maybe he's daring you to guess where he'll hit next?" Jason offered, "Even when there's a method to his madness you can't exactly predict what he wants until he wants you to know. This could be a spree against medical facilities across the city or just a whim he felt at the moment. We won't know until we either find him or he hits another target."
Another grunt. "Robin and I will go to the site of the explosion and investigate. Keep vigilant for anymore attacks. If he hits somewhere else then have Oracle send in Black Canary and Huntress."
"Understood. Cave out."
There wasn't another attack but the city was on high alert all the same. Security was increased at every medically-inclined building in the city — at least for those that could afford it. Other than that, the day continued on as normally as could be when the Joker was on the loose. The world didn't stop turning, not even for the biggest psychopath on the planet.
That didn't stop people from being on edge, just waiting for the next strike. It was for that reason that, when Tim received a text from his father demanding his presence after school at the center where he did his physical therapy, Jason refused to let him go alone. He had yet to meet Jack Drake anyway and figured it was about time he — and the rest of the family for that matter — did.
Jason had his shades on when the arrived at the Crowne Physical Therapy Center (one of the few remnants of the Crowne family's legacy in Gotham). He eyed the front of the building for the moment as his siblings filed out of the car, taking in the crystal doors and the elaborate, colorful glass garden in the center of the lobby. Definitely a rich people's clinic, he thought.
Tim led the way through the lobby, ignoring how everyone else marveled at the building's insides. After talking it over with the receptionist, they were directed to a room further inside the building, a sort-of-gym where Jason spotted a man that vaguely resembled Tim doing exercises with a dark-haired woman observing him. Judging by the small smiles the two were trading, Jason assumed this was Dana Winters, Tim's future stepmother.
"Dad," Tim greeted his father with a nod.
Jack's attentions turned away from his physical therapist to his son, and he took note of the people Tim had brought with him. "Tim. And your friends…?"
"The Waynes, Dad."
Realization dawned on Jack's face. Jason wondered how absorbed he was with Dana to not recognize the faces that had dominated Gotham's headlines for the last few months. Remembering how Tim once mentioned that his parents' marriage had been on their last leg before Janet Drake killed, he decided on 'very'.
"Introduce me," Jack ordered his son, putting on his best behavior. He was in the presence of Gotham royalty, after all.
Tim promptly did exactly that, starting with Jason and following with Cass and Damian, and then finally Stephanie, the only one he brought that wasn't a Wayne. Jack was polite to all of them, almost deferential at certain points. It wasn't really surprising in hindsight; it had taken finding out his son was running around as a vigilante at Bruce's behest to make Jack go against Gotham's favorite son. His wife might have been the brains behind Drake Industries, but both of them had been involved in Gotham's high society. They knew where they stood on the pecking order, and in the end, that's what destroyed their family.
"Tim, why didn't you tell me you were bringing friends?" Jack asked, a little harshly. Jason frowned at his tone.
"I wasn't originally, but Jason insisted. You know, with the clown on the loose."
Jack winced. "Understandable. Anyway, as for why you're here — I need you to take some things to the house for me. I'll be staying at physical therapy today longer than I thought."
Tim raised an eyebrow, casting a look at Dana, before slowly nodding. He was handed a large bag and sent on his way with a brief hug. They left as soon as they came, the bag slung over Tim's shoulder.
"Well that was a waste of time," Damian snorted, as they drove out of the parking lot. "Did we all really have to go?"
"It was about time we meet Tim's dad," Jason shrugged, "Better sooner than later."
Damian opened his mother to argue otherwise—
BOOM!
Shit…
Jason let out a low moan as he lifted his bleating head, the pain not quite crippling but still persistent. Did I hit my head? He wondered. The last thing he remembered was—
He stiffened, quickly blinking his eyes repeatedly so his vision could return. Once it had, he blanched. The explosion had caused the car to veer and crash its hood into the fender of another car, enough to visibly dent it and destroy the front right light. Thankfully, they hadn't been hit hard enough to start a fire with the engine or something. That settled, he looked next to him to see Cass recovering like he had, and then behind him to see Tim and Stephanie doing the same. Damian was apparently the only one to remain conscious from the crash, judging by how he was frantically struggling to remove his seatbelt.
"What…was that?" he asked, voice faint.
"An explosion," Damian growled, though his voice was more subdued than usual.
"But what—" Jason's eyes widened as he looked out through the back window and spotted what, exactly, exploded. Everyone slowly followed his line of sight, and gaped at the scene.
What had once been the Crowne Physical Therapy Center was now a flaming pile of debris. The trail of smoke billowed up into the sky as people slowly began to congregate around the sight. Suddenly, Tim threw the car door open and charged towards the carnage.
"Tim!" Jason yelled, quickly following his lead. When the door refused to open on its own merits, he kicked it down instead. "Stephanie, you're in charge!" he ordered, then charged after his younger brother, pushing people aside and jumping over cars.
He managed to grab Tim before the boy ran into the flames, holding him back with his all his strength as his brother tried to throw him off. "No, Tim, no!"
"But Jason, Dad—!"
"No, Tim. He's—" Jason cut himself off before he could say it.
Tim still struggled regardless, though the longer he peered into the flames he felt his desire to fight give in to his despair. "Dad…"
"He's gone, Tim," Jason said with finality. "I'm sorry."
It was too much. Tim collapsed to his knees in tears, barely reacting when Jason pulled his face into his chest. Jason placed a comforting kiss on his head, as his eyes caught sight of something else: the symbol of a Joker on one of the larger pieces of debris. Jason glared at the sight.
Damn you. Damn you to fucking hell.
The cleanup was slow-going. About twenty minutes after the explosion the police arrived along with firefighters and EMTs. Those who had been caught in the impromptu pile-up had been checked over first while the firefighters tried to get the blaze under control to search for survivors. Though it hadn't been said outright, everyone knew the chances of anyone surviving were practically non-existent. That had been confirmed during the subsequent search once the fire had been put out and was no longer in danger of restarting.
The moment the EMTs had arrived Jason dragged Tim away from what was left of the building to get checked out with the rest of the family. There would be more time for mourning later; his health was more important. Thankfully, it seemed no one had gotten too hurt, though he wouldn't be surprised if someone developed a case of whiplash within the following couple of days.
Once their checkups were over, they waited at a nearby sidewalk until Bruce and Alfred arrived. The two promptly did within another half-hour, Alfred dropping Bruce off while he searched for a place to park. Bruce immediately ran to them, eyes filled with worry.
"Is everyone alright?" Bruce asked once they came into view.
"Physically, we're all fine," Jason spoke for everyone, "Nothing more than scrapes and bruises. But Bruce…"
"Timothy's father was in the middle of the blast," Damian finished for him, voice uncharacteristically gentle. It was telling how severe the situation was that he was addressing Tim by his first name instead of his last like usual.
Bruce, horrified, put a hand to his mouth and looked at his current sidekick, who was silently sobbing, deep in Stephanie and Cass' collective embrace. "Tim…" The girls, knowing what he was about to do, let their friend go so Bruce could gather him up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Tim. I'm so sorry."
Jason watched them sadly, barely reacting when Alfred walked up next to him. "Master Jason," the butler greeted him, voice subdued. "Is it as I fear?"
"Yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment. "…I shall prepare Master Tim's usual room when we return home, then. How long until we can leave?"
"Bruce just needs to check in with the police and then we're good to go."
"Very well. Do you need me to take anything to the car?"
Jason gestured to the pile of bags that had been set next to Damian on the sidewalk. Alfred gave him a single nod and went on with it. Bruce handed off Tim to back to the girls, quietly instructing them to go to his car with Damian. Jason got out of their way, and walked up to Bruce, face set.
"I'm going out with you tonight," he said, voice brokering no argument.
Bruce frowned but slowly nodded. "Alfred told me about what you said."
"I know," Jason admitted. "I figured he would. Which is why I need to go with you. Tim is compromised; there's no way he can help you with the search any longer."
"Right," Bruce agreed. "This has gone on long enough. It's time we bring out the big guns."
Jason pursed his lips. "The Lounge?"
"The Lounge."
The moment they arrived to the Manor, Jason instructed Cass to take Tim to her room while Alfred prepped his. He also warned her to not be surprised if he stayed with her tonight regardless — he would need the comfort of someone close for at least the next few hours, and probably for the next couple of weeks to be honest. Stephanie went to follow them, but Jason gently grabbed her arm, silently asking her to stay.
"We need to call your mom and tell her what happened, and ask her if it's okay if you stay here for tonight or if we should send you home. Either way there's no way you're going to school tomorrow, even if the Joker is caught right now." No sane parent would force their child to go to school after what had happened today, especially when they were so close to the blast.
"Alright," Stephanie nodded, though her mind was obviously elsewhere. "…Is Tim going to be okay?"
Jason let go of her arm and took her hand instead, squeezing it. "Not for some time," he admitted, "He's going to be reserved for a while. Maybe even difficult. Angry. But just be patient with him, and be there for him. Something like this…the pain never really goes away. But it does become easier to handle with time, as long as you remember you have other people in your life."
Stephanie observed him for a moment. "You talk like you're speaking from experience."
Jason smiled at her sadly, then sighed. "I need to call Dick and tell him what's happened. He'll probably claim another family emergency and come here within the next couple of days, if only just to see Tim."
Realizing he wasn't going to answer, Stephanie nodded and went up the stairs to catch up with Tim and Cass. Next to him, Jason saw Damian watch her go, and gently nudged him. Giving him an encouraging nod, he pushed Damian up the stairs. Damian got the message and walked up, catching up with Stephanie, who took his hand and guided him the rest of the way.
"We need to watch him," Jason muttered.
"Agreed," Bruce conceded, walking up from behind him. "Alfred?"
"I shall endeavor to keep an eye out, although if he's staying in Miss Cassandra's room with everyone else I imagine it won't be too difficult to keep him inside."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I shall endeavor all the same."
"Sit on him if you have to," Jason instructed. "Now, if you need me, I'm going to grab some painkillers for my headache."
Bruce frowned. "Are you sure you're going to be okay for tonight's patrol?"
Jason waved him off. "I've dealt with worse, much like you have. I'll rest when the Joker is back in Arkham."
"I will hold you to that," Bruce told him. Jason quirked a tired grin at him and then headed up the stairs towards the main study. That left Bruce and Alfred all by their lonesome in the main foyer. They waited until he was out of view before finally speaking.
"I don't like this, Alfred."
"What is there to like, Master Bruce?" Alfred deadpanned at him. "Jack Drake is dead, orphaning Master Tim; the man who is responsible, who killed your second son and crippled a dear friend, mind you, is still on the loose; and your second son, who is a time traveler, is keeping some secret about him that implies that his continued existence is the one thing keeping the city from falling into further anarchy."
Bruce sighed. "At least I don't have to worry about Jason killing him."
"No. You have to worry about Master Tim doing it instead, which might be even worse." Jason, after all, was a seasoned vigilante with decades of experience. Tim, for all his brilliance, had only been Robin for the last eight months or so. Combined with the recent death of Jack Drake…well, they'd all be keeping an eye on the boy for a long while.
"…Did you think I made the right choice, Alfred? Choosing to become a vigilante to help this city?"
Alfred remained a silent for a moment as he thought his answer over. "Master Bruce, you're only human. You, much like every other person on this Earth, do the best they can with what they have in life. And despite contrary belief, very rarely is there a 'right' or 'wrong' choice. Usually, there are only choices and consequences. Whether those consequences are good or bad is up to interpretation."
"By becoming a vigilante, you may have caused great harm. But, in my own admittedly biased opinion, you have done good as well. You have saved this city, saved the world, countless times. Can you honestly say we would still be here to have this conversation if you hadn't made the choices you did?"
Bruce silently shook his head.
"Then this is my advice, sir. Accept your choices. Accept that you cannot change them. And learn from them. What is done is done. All we can do is move on with our lives, as we see fit." Alfred put a comforting hand on his employer's shoulder. "I need to fix up Master Tim's room."
Bruce watched him go, and sighed.
"He's right, you know."
Bruce whirled around to see Jason standing there, an icepack to his forehead.
"How—"
"Bruce, don't say that. Don't pretend you don't know about the secret passages that litter this place like lint."
Another sigh. "You heard everything." It was a statement, not a question.
"I did, and I'll say it again — he's right." Jason took the icepack off his head and looked off into the distance. "We make our choices, and we live with them, like we do with everything else in our lives. I had to learn that lesson a long time ago. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to move on with my life after my own mistakes."
"Like killing the Joker?"
Jason smiled at him. "You figured that out?"
"It wasn't hard, Jason," Bruce pointed out. "You admitted to killing him already, and your comment to Alfred could've only come from experience. From there it was easy to connect the dots."
"Figures," Jason crossed his arms, looking a hundred years older. "It was the biggest mistake of my life. There's not a day that goes by where I don't wonder what would've happened if I had never pulled that trigger. Everything would've been different."
"But not better," Bruce noted.
Jason shook his head. "Not better. There's no way to know if it would've been better. But if would've been different, that's for sure." He shrugged. "But I did it. And I had to live with the consequences for the rest of my life." He went forward, and patted his father on the arm. "It is what it is, Bruce. We can't change the past. But we can change the future, and that means finding the Joker as soon as possible before he kills more people. Okay?"
"Okay." Bruce paused. "Jason, I'm going to need to know everything after this. You realize that, right?"
"Right," Jason gave him a short nod. "It's overdue anyway. Just a warning though: it's not going to be easy to hear."
"Whatever it is, I can handle it."
Jason opened his mouth to say more, but stopped. "Jason?" Bruce prompted him.
"Promise me something. Promise me that, when I tell you the truth, you won't hate me."
Bruce looked aghast. "Jason, I could never hate you."
"Never say never, Bruce," Jason told him, looking worn. "Never say never."
Yeah, Jack Drake is dead. This was planned for a while and it's to show that Jason's forethought isn't going to save everyone. In the case of Jack, it actually doomed him years earlier. Jason, as you probably have guessed, feels plenty of guilt for that even if he's trying not to show it. He knows it's not going to do anyone any good.
The next flashback arc is coming up soon. I won't say what it'll focus on, except that Tim is obviously one of the central characters. Jason has a lot to say on the matter, and it'll provide more insight into his character.
Next chapter: the Joker, again.