There are a lot of POV changes here. I separated each with the name of the character whose perspective you are in. One POV can be considered "Neutral" or the "Reader's" perspective as I don't really follow any one person's viewpoint.
Warnings: Language, Violence, & Gore
Jason
Jason slid the sample into the League's transporter computer and waited for Goldie's DNA to upload. It didn't take nearly as long to accomplish as it used to. The transporter must have been upgraded a couple of times since Dick had shown him this trick before Jason's demise. He hoped it would still work or company would be waiting for him the moment he arrived on the Watchtower.
It wasn't as if he wouldn't be welcomed, but he knew by the end of this visit, no one would invite him back for the annual JLA Christmas party. Jason hadn't killed anyone recently, at least not that anyone knew about. It was just too bad that Vandal Savage was immortal because if anyone needed an escort off this mortal coil, it was him. Roy's assurance that no one blamed him for Dick's predicament was a farce. Maybe the large part of the League didn't, but Jason was positive that Bruce would have a different perspective. His favorite son was being retired to a wheelchair for the rest of his life and Jason was the main reason for it.
Sliding the electronic keycard into the data slot, Jay typed in one of the codes that Dick had given to him back when Jason wore a yellow and black cape instead of the leather jacket and red helmet he wore now. "Just in case," the newly dubbed Nightwing had explained to him. If the League were compromised or defeated, someone would need to get onto the Watchtower without being detected. "It happened before," Dick had warned.
Vandal Savage had been enemy that time and the reason Dick had developed his own hack past security after Batman had given the team a security pass. Jay had heard the story. That time had been before the advent of the second Robin. Ironically, Savage was the reason that Jason was using Dick's method of entry this time.
Although the first Robin's talent for hacking was a well-known fact, no one knew about this. As far as Jay knew, even Batman was still in the dark. The only person that Dick had trusted with this backdoor had been one fourteen-year-old fanboy, a kid still wet behind the mask back then. Jason had never told his brother, but that was still one of his most cherished memories. Dick had chosen Jason over any League member, over his friends, and even over Bruce himself. Dick had trusted him.
It was this memory and that trust, probably more than anything that had prompted Jason to forego his own revenge on Ra's in order to get Dick the information on Wally, behind his agreement to help him rescue the errant speedster when Dick had asked and . . . for what Jason was about to do now. IF, that is, the codes were still good after all this time.
The script ran across the screen at a pace too fast for Jason to follow. Dick probably could, Jay couldn't help thinking. Growling, he shook his head as if the movement would shake loose this need he had to constantly compare himself with his older brother. It was a compulsion from his former life that the Joker had failed to beat out of him, a little part that had survived his death and rebirth.
He wondered if Roy would be up there waiting on him. Having already seen the archer once that day, Jason had no desire to meet up with him again, even though Roy had been the one to call him about Savage. The archer wanted Jason to be kept in the loop, to draw him back to the fold, but Roy wouldn't agree with this. If he knew Jason's plans, Roy would likely stop him or at the very least rat him out. That was why Jay had hung up immediately after being given the news. Let the archer consider him too angry or guilt-ridden to act out today.
The simple truth of it was Jason felt too angry and guilt-ridden to not do something about it. That being said, there was no time like the present. Right now, the League was too wrapped up in their own emotions to worry about what a semi-friendly ally with a grudge might be willing to do.
The beep alerted him that the hack had been successful.
Damn, Dickie, he thought as he pulled out his keycard, you still got it.
There was a list of things Dick could do that Jason felt jealous of, but that list was shrinking dramatically. Golden Boy wasn't nearly as shiny now as he had been just the day before; that gleam had become tarnished overnight and Vandal Savage needed to pay for that.
"B-01, Nightwing", the transporter intoned as it scanned him, unaware of the discrepancy, then Jason felt the unique sensation of his molecules breaking down and ripped apart as he was beamed into orbit and reassembled on the Watchtower.
This wouldn't have worked if Nightwing had been beamed aboard, but he had arrived at the Watchtower via the Martian bioship. The hack allowed him to separate the mainframe's info from the transporter computer, enabling it from acknowledging Nightwing's presence on board for the length of time it took Jason to transport there. When his vision cleared, Jason was standing in a receiving room used to receive bulk shipments and supplies. Since shipments weren't scheduled to arrive on Sunday mornings, the area was currently deserted.
Jason hesitated, waiting for an alarm to sound. When none came, he ran to the wall containing the ventilation shaft. When Dick had taught Jason how to hack the system, he had also supplied the tower's schematics. Not wanting to get lost in the maze of ductwork, Jay double-checked his location and determined where he needed to go. He slipped into the shaft, carefully closing the vent cover behind him. No sense alerting anyone who happened by that an unauthorized person was wandering about from a missing vent grating. Once he disabled the motion and heat sensors along his mapped path, he was moving.
Savage
"So, he finally died, did he? I expected you here hours ago," Vandal Savage sat on the bunk provided, lounging comfortably, looking quite relaxed despite facing down The Batman. He didn't wait for the grim Crusader to reply to his taunt. "Your sidekick hung in there longer than I expected. You should be thanking me, you know. I did you a favor."
Getting up, Vandal moved in front of his adversary, ignoring the eyes that followed the drama from beyond the forcefield that held him there. Contemplating Batman's silence, Savage determined he was witnessing a chip in the hero's exterior. Perhaps the man was too distraught by his partner's death to voice his anger. Smug in his assumption, he continued his analysis, circling the hero slowly.
"Your protégé's weakness, his sentimentality, is what ultimately did him in. You must realize this by now. Beware, or your own misplaced affection will lead you to a similar outcome."
Completing his rotation, Savage stopped in front of the Bat. He did not lash out, despite his enemy's grief-stricken state. Many of the League's hardest hitters, Superman and Flash among them, were present to stop him. Instead, he complained of the loss of a once-worthy foe in the silent figure before him.
"You have the intelligence; you could have been my equal despite your mortality. Why would you throw it away with this ridiculous need to take in . . . children? I suppose you wish to leave a legacy; however, this makes two you have lost if the Joker is to be believed. Perhaps if you rid yourself of the last of your clingers-on, this latest Robin, then you could be free to meet your potential."
"Savage . . ." Batman stepped forward, closing the distance.
Vandal wasn't worried. What could the Bat do to him? He was immortal. Even had Batman's code allowed him to kill, his colleagues would stop him. Others might cower before Batman, but dealing with Vandal, his attempts to intimidate fell woefully short.
"Do you have something to say to me, Batman? Feel free to show me your gratitude," Vandal smiled then, opening his arms in a grand gesture. He was safe enough with his angry but morally upright guards less than a stone's throw away.
In an impressively fast move, Batman crossed the short distance between them, gripping Vandal's head and twisting. The snap was loud as were the gasps and yells of the man's colleagues as the forcefield disintegrated. Savage's body hitting the floor, sounding like a lifeless sack of grain Superman pulled the Dark Knight out of the cell.
Neutral
"My God, Bruce!" Superman gaped past him at the corpse on the floor. "What the hell? You don't kill! Batman doesn't kill. What of your code - your no-killing rule?"
Batman jerked an arm free, then reached over to the controls, reinstating the forcefield. He looked up at Clark first, and then at the rest of his shocked colleagues.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he murmured with infuriating calm. "I didn't kill anyone."
A groan issued forth from the cell as a reanimated Savage slowly climbed to his feet. He reached up with both hands, snapping his head back into place with loud crack. He rubbed his neck, tilting his head this way and that as Vandal stepped up to the magnetic field separating him from his jailers.
"What the hell was that?" he growled. He didn't like being surprised and glared at his captors. "Your vaunted morality stands on nothing more than quicksand. Where is your vow to never take a life?"
Batman glanced back. Only Superman could see the rigidity in the man's jaw.
"You're still alive, aren't you?" Batman stated coldly while walking out of the room with a swirl of cape. It was time to get back to his son.
"Don't turn your back on me!" Savage yelled as the door slid shut behind the Bat. He snarled, then, at the others. "Is this your idea of protection? You just let that man kill me!"
Superman crossed his arms. "You don't look dead to me," he snapped, repeating Batman's sentiment. To the rest of the League present, he said, "I think I'll head down to the medical bay to see Nightwing. Dr. Midnite sent word that he's in stable condition now."
Martian Manhunter followed him. "I will accompany you. I am to relieve Black Canary of duty."
Savage strained as he watched them go. "If the boy's alive, why would Batman bother to attack me?" He scoffed derisively. "I was right, then. He's weak. Pathetic."
Wonder Woman stepped up to the cell. "Don't test me, Savage. If I were to do what Batman did to you, it would take you so much longer to revive yourself." Then, she turned her back to the villain as well. "It's my turn to take watch duty," she announced as she exited next.
"The mighty Justice League is reduced to mob tactics and threats?" Savage said, tilting his head on his newly healed neck.
Flash shook his head in disgust. "I'm sorry. I can't be here any longer. You coming, GL?"
"Right behind you, Flash," Hal agreed, following him out.
All that remained was Hawkgirl. Kicking her chair back away from the console with her foot, she stood and glared at Savage through the magnetic field. She stretched her back, her wings fluttering and shifting with the movement.
"The boy lives and yet I'm the target of all of this ire," Savage murmured, pondering that. He had stabbed the boy in his spine. If he still lived, then his career as one of these costumed annoyances had been effectively ended. Perhaps that was the reason . . .
Hawkgirl interrupted his thoughts. "Don't think for a moment that Klarion will be coming to your rescue," she told him. "Dr. Fate and Zatanna have placed magical protections over the entire Watchtower as well as your cell. No opposing magic will penetrate them, and they will prevent you from walking out, even should the magnetic field fail. You are well and truly caught this time."
"All this for two sidekicks who aren't even League members?" Savage laughed. "I think the Light has underestimated the League's partiality for those children. You will not contain me for long, no matter your precautions. Rest assured the Light will be using this knowledge to our benefit. Much the worse for your protégés."
Hawkgirl turned a knob on the control panel. "You know," she said, "you talk far too much. I'm getting nauseous listening to you pontificate like some fat, royal, never-ending slob."
Though Vandal's mouth was moving, nothing could be heard through the sound block she had activated. Hawkgirl raised a hand to her ear as if straining to hear him, then laughed. "You can hear me, but no one can hear you anymore. You aren't going anywhere, Vandal, so just settle down on your bunk and catch some Z's. I'm going for some coffee."
She paused in front of his cell. "Would you like some?" Shayera tilted her head, holding a hand to her ear as she taunted. "What's that? No? None for you? Fine. I'll be back in a few."
Savage
Alone in his cell, Vandal Savage contemplated his revenge on the Dark Knight. Batman would not get away with humiliating him. All the time in the world to plan, he laid down on his bunk. Perhaps, he would take the last Robin away from him first. Surely this would be devastating to lose all those soldiers he'd trained to continue his legacy. Only then would Savage return the favor and break the Bat's neck.
Unbeknownst to him, above the door to the brig, gloved fingers took out the screws that attached the grate to the ventilation shaft. Moving quickly and silently, the grate was carefully removed as a helmeted figure dropped to the floor. There was only one occupied cell. Confirming the cell's inhabitant, Red Hood turned toward the control console where he attached a tiny device to the panel. Moving back to the cell's entrance, he pulled a small remote from his belt.
The prisoner had yet to notice his visitor.
But he would . . .
Activating the remote, the magnetic field fizzled out of existence. Savage sat up as Jason entered his cell. Hood reactivated the field. It wouldn't do for the bastard to escape, not that the immortal would be in any condition for it soon.
"How did you do that?" Savage demanded. "I was told the cell was guarded by wards to prevent anyone from entering."
"Then, you weren't listening," Red Hood told him. "The wards prevent anyone 'magical' from entering and 'you' from exiting. The wards don't do shit about someone like me."
Savage narrowed his eyes. "I don't know you. I recognize the helmet you're wearing, however. Someone once told me he wore one like it, but it is obvious that you are not him."
"Your hearing sucks, but you get points for observation," Jason remarked sarcastically.
"To what do I owe this visit?"
Removing his helmet, Jason dropped it to the floor beside his feet.
"Paranoid much?" Savage asked, smirking. He pointed to the redundancy of the red mask Jason had worn beneath the helmet.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Am I supposed to know you?" He began laughing. "Another youngster, I can see. Tell me, have the adults all perished during my short incarceration?"
Ignoring the taunts, Jason growled. "You stabbed my brother."
One of Savage's eyebrows rose, intrigued. "Your brother?"
"Don't you recognize me, Savage?"
Vandal shrugged. He hardly cared, but this was more entertaining than staring at the blank walls. "Sorry. I can't say that I do."
"I'm the man who is going to kill you," Jason pulled his gun free and pointed it at Savage's forehead. A small red dot appeared between the villain's eyes.
"I'm not sure you know who I am," Vandal told him, amused. "I am immortal, boy. I cannot die. You cannot kill me."
This time, Jason shrugged. "I vote that we test that theory," he said, pulling the trigger.
As the back of Vandal Savage's head exploded, blood and gore slid down the wall behind him like a macabre waterfall. The immortal dropped at Jason's feet like a felled tree. Outside of the cell, with the sound dampener activated, not a sound was heard.
Jason
Savage merely laid there like so much roadkill but, even if the Red Hood was unknown to Vandal, Jason Todd knew the immortal. Still, for several long, satisfying moments, the unending, would-be dictator was dead.
Nothing good ever lasted, however, and eventually the corpse on the floor twitched.
Had Jason not been looking for it, he might have missed seeing the villain's fingers move. He watched as the back of the deflated head began to expand as new brain matter plumped up and freshly grown bone slid back into place, then skin knitted itself together over all of it. Hair began sprouting wherever the new skin appeared while the old hair and Savage's clothing remained soaked with gore.
Jason's lips lifted at the sound of Vandal's pain-filled groans.
Savage might be immortal, but he could also be killed, and both the death and resurrection appeared to be extremely uncomfortable for the imperishable villain. When Vandal could speak, he glared hatefully at his uninvited guest.
"You little shit!" he roared. "You dare . . .!" Any trace of the man's normal composure had fled with this latest insult.
Smiling, Jason was encouraged by the immortal's ire.
"Now, that is a nifty-looking trick. I wonder . . ." He remarked cheerfully. Leaning down, he asked, "Did it hurt? Cause, well, you know . . . It looked like it hurt."
"I told you I cannot die," Savage snarled at him as he climbed to his feet. "You wasted your bullet, boy."
Jason pretended to think on this then shook his head. "Nah . . . I don't think so. You want to know why?"
He didn't bother waiting for Savage to reply. Jason didn't really care what the man said. He was here for retribution.
"I'll tell you," he volunteered. "See, I think what I did to you hurt. I think that pulling yourself back together hurts too. And, well," he shrugged, "knowing that just makes it all . . . worthwhile." Lifting his gun, Jason shot him again.
As unprepared for the second bullet as he had been for the first one, Savage was once more taken by surprise. The bullet plowed through the same spot as before and, for a second time that day, Vandal's head blew out the back. The immortal fell to the floor in a lifeless heap, the position of his body a repeat of the earlier pose. The wall behind him resembled nothing so much as a scene from a horror flick.
Deciding to get comfortable, Jason leaned back against the wall near the cell entrance while he waited for Savage to put himself back together. He checked his watch. Five minutes passed before the villain groaned and picked himself up off the floor.
Interesting. It took Savage a full minute longer to recover this time around.
Vandal whirled on Jason the moment he regained his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Why don't you tell me," Jason murmured, pulling the trigger a third time.
Anticipating this, Savage attempted to avoid the bullet, but couldn't move fast enough. Rather than hitting him between the eyes, the bullet entered the man's temple. The power of Jason's ammunition caused the left side of Vandal's face to disappear in a spray of bone and brain matter as the immortal collapsed.
He should be feeling some level of satisfaction, but his anger hadn't abated in the least. Dick would be suffering from Savage's actions for the rest of his life. The fucker deserved to suffer more than a few paltry minutes before returning to perfect health.
No, Jason wasn't done by half.
Seven minutes later, Savage pushed himself up into a sitting position. Resting his arm across his knees, he looked up at his tormentor. "If Nightwing is your brother, I hear tell he still lives. Why all this if he isn't dead?"
Jason's eyes narrowed as he leaned down, nostrils flaring. "Because it entertains me, you immortal fuck," he snarled, firing off another round.
He has to be getting pissed, Jason decided as he moved to stand on the other side of the room.
As Vandal awoke, he leapt to his feet with a roar, prepared to tear his attacker to pieces with his bare hands but the boy wasn't there. Hesitating only a split second before spinning around, Jason's bullet caught him in the center of his chest. In a classic double-tap, he sent a second round in his head before Savage's body went down.
Nine minutes later, Vandal's body expelled the bullet, making a light clinking noise when it rolled off his chest and bounced off the metal paneled floor. The sound warned Jason the man had healed. Vandal moved slowly as he climbed to his feet and faced the boy.
"What part of immortal do you not understand?" He spoke carefully as if the boy was especially dull-witted. "Eventually, you will run out of bullets and when you do, I will still be here."
"Yeah, that's what you keep telling me. But, you see, I have questions," Jason told him. "Are you truly an immortal or do you just have a large allotment of times that you can be resurrected? Who's to say that wasn't your last time? That if I shot you again, you might be well and truly gone?"
"You waste my time." Savage's face grew red as he growled.
"Guess I'll just have to make it up to you in your next life." Jason shrugged and pulled the trigger.
Savage returned to consciousness ten minutes later with a roar.
"Quit doing th- . . ." His words were cut off as the next bullet tore through his throat.
Savage
Vandal fell backward into a puddle of his own blood. Several seconds passed before the darkness finally overtook him. He hated waiting for it. It was as the boy had said . . . Death did hurt, as did his resurrection, every. Damned. Time. He had long ago learned to put the pain aside during his death throes. If only the boy wasn't so damned infuriating. His anger made it difficult to concentrate, so he felt every sharp prick and painful tingle as his nerves knitted themselves back together.
He awoke with a sore throat, damn it.
"Are you done?" he croaked. His voice sounded like he had gargled glass.
Jason answered, "Not even a little."
888
Savage awoke annoyed, the pain was lingering. "Don't let me bore you," he grumbled, shoving himself to his feet.
His clothes were uncomfortably sticky with the cooling blood, his hair was matted with gore. He would need to shower for hours to get it all out. If he didn't, the stench of death would follow him until he managed to rid himself of the last of the rotting flesh.
"No worries. I'm good," Jason smirked.
888
When Vandal opened his eyes, he frowned. Even the ceiling had flecks of his blood marring its surface. Who knew blood could spray so high? The ceiling was at least four and a half meters high.
"I know you're back," Jason called out, interrupting his thoughts.
"You are an annoying little flea," Savage snapped, still in his supine position. "When you run out of bullets, I will have my revenge. You will beg for death ere I'm finished with you, boy."
Jason snorted. "I hope you don't have anything else planned for the afternoon, then. My magazine holds seventeen rounds. I have seven remaining."
"Only seven?" Savage rolled to his side, laughing. "Well, have at it, then. Let's get this over with."
Jason lifted the left side of his jacket to reveal a second firearm. "This one holds seventeen, too," he said casually. "As does the four extra magazines I have in my pockets, and the six I keep in my belt."
Vandal scowled. "Were you expecting to fight off an army?"
"Failure to prepare means preparing to fail," Jason quoted his mentor breezily. Some of Batman's lessons had stuck.
888
The groan Vandal emitted as consciousness swept over him was long and frustrated.
"This grows old - . . ."
888
He awoke annoyed. The little shit hadn't even bothered with conversation that last time.
Opening his eyes, Savage realized he had lost count of how many times had the pissant killed him. He would pretend weakness in an effort to lure his tormentor into a false sense of security and then he would pounce.
888
When next Savage awoke, it was to his face shoved into the corner of his cell, his head bent at an unusual angle. His body was bunched as if his corpse had plowed face-first into the wall. His usually sharp memory was slow in coming. Though loathe to admit it, Vandal ached all over. While the pain wouldn't last – It never lasted –he found he was having a difficult time rising above it.
Shoving away from the wall, Savage rolled over into a sitting position, struggling to contain the groan of pain the movement caused him. He found the youngster back in his original spot. It was the only area not blood-soaked in the cell, but the boy was not without evidence of his activities. Blood splattered his clothing, staining his shirt, jacket and the cargo pants he wore. He even had some droplets on . . .
"You have some of my . . . um, it's on your face - right there," Vandal told him, circling a finger over the corresponding area on his own face.
"I'll shower later." Jason didn't bother wiping the flecks of blood away.
"What exactly are you trying to prove here?" Savage asked. He wondered if he sounded tired. He hoped not. He had never, in his 50,000 years of life, ever died and been resurrected so often in so short of time, but it was exhausting.
The boy appeared mildly surprised by the question. "Prove? Me? Nothing."
"Then why do all this? Your brother lives." Savage argued.
"Why?" The boy grew grim, and Vandal knew he could count this latest life in seconds.
"You may not be able to die permanently, Savage," Jason snarled, "but, I mean to make you wish that you could."
Vandal laughed. It was meant to sound derisive but came out weary. "You don't have enough bullets on you for that," he muttered.
"You're repeating yourself." Jason told him. "I don't care."
"Eventually, I will escape this place," Savage told him. "I always do . . . And then, I will find you. I will torture you for months and make your death last for weeks before I spread whatever is left of you into the four winds. No one will ever find your body."
The edges of the boy's lips quirked up in amusement. "You're threatening me with death? Sorry. Been there; done that. Have the t-shirt." He straightened and pulled out his second pistol. "But you brought up an interesting point. Perhaps I've been going about this all wrong. Maybe we should play this game another way."
Vandal screamed as Jason placed a bullet into each of the villain's knees, shattering the joints, and one in the man's stomach.
Jason
Holstering his weapons, Jay picked up his helmet.
"There are always consequences to your actions, Savage," Jason said, settling the helmet over his head. "You think about that as you lay there, bleeding out."
Fingering the remote, he left the cell, careful to put the forcefield back into place. Jason stopped to grab his hacking device. With all the precautions the League set in place, no one was worried Vandal Savage would escape. It was even less likely now. At least until Savage healed himself but Hawkgirl would still be back soon to check on him.
He was surprised she hadn't interrupted him already, but it didn't matter now. He had accomplished what he had set out to do. It wasn't enough – Would never be enough – but, it would have to do. Maybe Dick would appreciate the effort, but Jay knew that Goldie would never admit it even if he did.
That's okay, Jay thought to himself. At least, I'll be able to sleep after this. Maybe, better than I have in a long time.
Climbing back into the ventilation shaft, he screwed the grate back into place. Wearing Savage's blood would draw attention he preferred to avoid. He wouldn't stay to watch the fireworks that would begin the moment Hawkgirl returned and glimpsed Savage's cell. He would be on earth before the alarm went off and the Watchtower went on lockdown.
Of course, they'd know it was him. There were security cameras all over the place. Jason had disabled all but one of them before he had entered the room. The one left would show Jason entering the cell from an angle that hid what happened after that. Fifty minutes later, they'd see a blood-splattered version of him exiting.
No one may approve of his actions, but after what Savage did to Dick, he doubted anyone would blame him for it.
Shayera
She'd been gone too long, not that she was worried. No one was getting past the League's defenses, and there was no way Vandal Savage could escape. She had watched several of her magically endowed, fellow Leaguers place those wards herself.
If she had her way, though, she'd like to take a few minutes and follow Batman's lead. Vandal Savage deserved far more than the mere inconvenience of a quick death. Superman shouldn't have interrupted their teammate. The way she understood it, Batman's relationship to his partners went beyond mentor and student; Dinah had told her they were his sons.
Having known and worked with Batman years before the Justice League formed, she thought Black Canary would know. Shayera had no doubt what she would do had she been in Batman's place. Her fingers slid down to caress her mace dangling at her side. The Nth metal would certainly put a dent in Savage's immortality.
She'd prefer to be anywhere but here, forced to watch over the self-proclaimed ruler of the earth. Not only was the man an arrogant ass of a Thanagarian Yorraga beast, but he was a talker on top of it. Thank goodness for sound blocking technology.
Setting her coffee on the console, Shayera turned to check on the bastard . . .
"Yob Shiggurath!" She gasped. "What happened to you?"
Savage sat propped against the bed's platform. He was drenched in blood and bits of – She chose not to think too closely about the bits and chunks caught in his hair. She could see only one sliver of skin on his face that was somehow devoid of gore. The whites of his eyes shone out of a mask of red when he raised his head to look at her. His lips moved but there was no sound.
It took her a moment to remember the sound block. She slapped her hand down on the switch. Vandal's voice was weak and breathless when she could finally hear him.
"Heh, I uh . . . don't suppose . . . you have a cell with a . . . a shower, do . . . you?" He blinked slowly, lifting his hand from a wound in his abdomen. "I'm a bit . . . sticky."
"Who did this to you?" She demanded.
"Forgive . . . me. I'll . . . be back . . . in a . . . a few minutesssss . . ." His head dropped onto his chest as his grasp on life faltered.
Shayera was no stranger to blood, but this made even her cast-iron stomach churn. She was going to have to report this. Shaking her head, she turned away.
"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," she muttered as she touched the comm. "Guys? We have a problem."
Wonder Woman's voice came through the intercom. "What happened? Is Savage still in his cell?"
"Oh, he's in his cell alright. More like all over it," she clarified dryly.
"I don't understand."
"While I stepped out to grab some coffee, Savage appears to have had a visitor." Shayera explained. She checked the cameras only to discover all but one still recording. "I'm going to need some help down here. Oh, and you might tell them to bring a mop and bucket when they come."
After a moment, Diana's voice came through. "I'll be right there."
Clark
Superman glanced at the figure in the bed, grimacing. Clark was supposed to be invincible but seeing Dick like this hurt as much as a pound of kryptonite. Of all people, that this should have happened to him was wrong. In his head, images of Dick as a nine-year-old flipping all over the Batcave came to him. He had been so full of questions and laughter, and a never-ending supply of effervescent energy. The boy had already been Robin for the better part of a year before Superman had found the opportunity to meet him. The flood of memories forced the Man of Steel to look away.
The reason he was back here was to speak to the person standing in front of the window, looking out but unseeing. The sight of the earth, spinning below them like a beautiful, multi-colored marble hung on a backdrop of black velvet and diamonds was wasted on him.
"Is he asleep?" Clark asked as a way of greeting. He already knew the answer to that from the rhythm of the boy's breathing and the slow, steady beat of his heart.
Bruce's cowl lay discarded on the chair nearby. He wasn't surprised by his visitor. Although Clark was the one with super hearing, he knew that Bruce had been aware of his presence even before he entered the room. He didn't turn when he answered.
"He finally succumbed to the medication an hour ago," Bruce murmured. "You came to speak to me about Savage. Say what you want, Clark, I do not regret my actions in the least."
"It's not your actions I'm here to talk about." Clark saw that he had his friend's attention. "Red Hood visited Vandal Savage after we left the brig. I've been told that Red Hood is Jason. Bruce, is that true?"
"It is."
"How? How could it be? I was at his funeral." He shouldn't be shocked. It wasn't as though people haven't miraculously returned from the dead. Even he had done so once after being stabbed during a battle with Doomsday.
"He had help," Bruce said simply.
When no other information was forthcoming, Clark stepped up to the window beside his friend. Bruce could have been a statue for all the emotion he was showing. Even snapping Savage's neck had appeared to be a cold and calculated move on his part. Clark had overheard some of the criticism by those who didn't understand the man, but Clark knew better. He had long ago learned that the colder, more detached that Batman appeared, the greater the pain he felt.
There was nothing he wanted to do more than to let the man be, to let him grieve for his son's loss. Leaving him alone seemed the only thing anyone could do to comfort the man, but they needed to discuss this. What Jason had done was beyond what was acceptable, even when consumed by grief and rage, and this was without the added concerns over the breach in the Watchtower's security.
"No one's sure how he got in." Superman said quietly so as not to disturb the boy's sleep. "If it were Dick instead of Jason, the question of how would be moot, but as of right now, the Watchtower's security has been compromised. We'll need a full overhaul with diagnostics to plug any weaknesses left behind."
Batman grunted his acknowledgement. "It shouldn't be an issue. I can do a scan and run a few scenarios if you like, but the system should be fine. No worries."
Clark gaped at him. "No -? How can you say that? Red Hood entered the Watchtower without the computer logging his arrival. No one was aware of his presence. That alone is cause for concern. But he did so for the express purpose of breaking into the brig to torture our prisoner. He was there for nearly an hour and not a single alarm went off in all that time."
He didn't know what he was expected, but certainly more than what he received. "Bruce . . ."
"Jason . . . has some problems, but he wouldn't endanger the Watchtower or risk Savage escaping," Bruce told him finally, "not with Dick being in traction and unable to move."
Superman glanced back at the bed, but there was no variation in Dick's breathing or his heartrate. Realizing this could turn into an argument, Clark had no desire to wake the young man by accident. He would need to keep his voice soft.
"I came here as soon as I saw the video. I honestly expected to find him here," Clark said. "It seems as inconceivable that Jason would have left the Watchtower without checking on Dick as it does to imagine his psychosis. He's not the boy I remember, Bruce. You should have said something about his instability. Jason shouldn't be walking around out there when he is obviously a ticking time bomb. Who knows what he could do? Savage is only alive now because his body can regenerate itself."
"Jason is not a danger to the public," Bruce assured him. "Criminals, however, . . ."
"Criminals! Speaking of which, there's a report about fourteen criminals being taken to Gotham General over the course of last night. Put there by a young man wearing a leather jacket and a red helmet . . ." Clark ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Are they all still alive?"
Superman gaped at him. "Yes, but it was a close thing. Bruce, what you did to Savage . . . I get it. You went in knowing that he would survive and be healed. I allowed it because you needed to punish him somehow for what he did to Dick, but Jason? We don't deal in torture, Bruce."
Batman stiffened. Clark could hear his jaw creaking with tension.
"You allowed me?" he said, low in his throat.
It was a threatening sound to be sure. If Clark wasn't Kryptonian, he might have been intimidated. It was the truth that when having to confront the Bat with unpleasantness, more times than not, it was Superman who did it.
"Do you, even for a second, believe that I didn't want to do what Jason did to that animal? If there was anyone I could unleash on without breaking my vow, it is Savage. But with a room full of concerned colleagues ready to drag me out at a moment's notice, what was the use. I won't waste the energy. But if you think I'm going to chastise or punish Jason for what he did - you don't know me very well at all." Bruce growled. "I say to you again, no one is dead. Although, you know as well as I do that had Savage gotten his way, Dick would have been."
Clark sucked in his breath. "I understand how you must feel but Bruce, if you don't deal with Jason, then the League will have no choice but to step in and take care of this ourselves."
Bruce spun around, glaring at him. "You think you understand? Jason is back through some miracle, but I nearly lost him all over again because I went easy on Joker."
"Breaking two-thirds of that psychopathic clown's bones was easy?" Clark scoffed.
"What the hell is Dick going to think if I do nothing? Savage is so long-lived that anything we do to him is less than nothing."
"Savage isn't going to get away with this," Clark tried to assure him. "You're worried about Dick, but you're not going to lose him."
"There are other ways to lose someone besides death, Clark."
"This won't be the same as it was with Joker. And Dick isn't Jason; he'll understand."
"He shouldn't have to understand!" Bruce snapped quietly through clenched teeth, his voice barely in check.
"But Jason . . ."
"You will leave Jason to me," Bruce interrupted, his momentary lapse in control had vanished and the wall was back up. "He's not your concern."
"And what about the breach to our security? Shouldn't that be cause for concern?"
Batman turned back to staring out the window. "Cyborg is going over the system even as we speak. I will find a moment to look into some new preventative measures against hacking into the zeta-tube later, but I'm not concerned. This wasn't a regular breach. Jason isn't a hacker, or at least not one on a level that the League should be concerned with. If I'm correct, and I believe I am, the breach was Dick's doing."
Clark raised an eyebrow, skeptically. "Dick? Dick's in no position to hack into the zeta-tube's protocols."
"It wouldn't have happened today. After Savage's first attempt to take over the League, I suspected that Robin wanted to make certain that he had a backdoor handy, just in case something like that ever happened again. What I hadn't expected was for him to have shared the information with Jason . . . Or that Dick didn't change the codes after Jason's death."
"Do we need to worry that Jason will return? Moving Savage is risky, but we can't have a wild card going in and out of his cell, and the torture - Bruce, that was . . ."
"He won't return," Bruce assured him.
"How do you know that?"
"Jason did what he had to do. He's done."
"And that's it? Has having a psychopath on the loose in Gotham become the norm for you, then?"
Bruce glared at him. "This is a family matter, Clark. It will be handled within the family."
Clark's mouth tightened regretfully. "We used to be like family . . ."
"You're going to wake him," Bruce said, ignoring the observation.
Unhappy with the course of their conversation, Clark nodded at the dismissal. "Very well. But Bruce . . ."
"No one touches Jason, Clark."
"Fine. I'll tell the others. We'll expect you to handle this." Clark moved toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle. "For what it's worth, though, I'm sorry. Dick was one of the best. He didn't deserve this."
"Dick's still alive, Clark. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't speak about him in the past tense," Bruce replied coldly.
He blinked in surprise as he realized what he had said. "Ah, hell. I apologize, Bruce. I didn't realize – I didn't mean . . .Shit." Clark ran a hand over his face. "I was speaking of Nightwing, not of Dick himself." He needed to shut up now.
Silence answered him. Sighing, Clark left the room feeling like he had accomplished nothing.
REACTIONS?
Jason's not playing . . . But, as Bruce reminded Clark, no one died. ;D
Apologies that this took so long, but 2020 has been a really shitty year. I'm certain it has been no picnic for you either. I am also posting stories from here on AO3, but you aren't missing anything. Either it has already posted here, or I am posting new on both sites. Anyway, you can also find me there under the username: Nuideas. New stuff should be in the works, if not for this story, then for "The End of Everything".