April 6th
0129hrs
"Batman is out and about, Hood," Roy informed him over the comms.
Jason frowned but he wasn't surprised. Not really. Bruce Wayne was stubborn as shit and they'd all known he wasn't going to stay down once he started feeling better. "He got Catwoman and Nightwing backing him up?"
It took a few seconds before Roy answered. "Yes, that is confirmed. Oracle is at her post and working with all three of them tonight."
"Robin still caged?" Jason asked. If Batman or the others heard, they'd assume he was talking about Smallville. Only Roy and Dick would know what Jason really meant.
"Yeah."
Jason couldn't help but be comforted by the immediate response. He honestly didn't know what he'd do if something happened to Tim. The logical part of Jason had absolutely understood and even agreed with Tim's plan to act as bait. The cold hearted, uncaring Protégé wanted to take the Replacement up on his offer, but Jason Todd, the former Robin, couldn't.
It felt like carving out his own heart. He'd promised both Batman and Nightwing that Joker would never get his purple gloved hands on another Robin. That was a failure Jason would never accept of himself. Even if it meant insulting or creating something of a complex in Tim.
Better to have some insecurities than to be dead.
"Red Hood?" Oracle's voice came over his comms.
He frowned at Barbara's voice, but took a calming breath. Bruce Wayne had made a decision those years ago and it wasn't one hundred percent her fault that she happened to agree with his perspective on it. He could be a grown up and he could be civil with the woman. Jason didn't have to see her only as the person who told Bruce that there was a darkness within. He could also see her as he had just before overhearing her debrief.
The woman who'd been kind to him and fun to patrol with.
"Yeah?" he responded.
"Batman is requesting a brief meet-up atop the clocktower," she said professionally.
He sighed and then checked his phone. He was only about ten minutes from the clocktower, and Slade was out doing some recon to see if he could find the clown. Jason debated on whether or not he should show up, but then… Bruce was trying, wasn't he?
As he was about to respond he shook his head. How could he be so stupid? He told them all that they could chase him to their hearts' content so long as they were in their suits. If he showed up to meet with Batman, there would be no reason for the big guy to stand down. No reason not to try to do everything in his power to arrest and bring the Red Hood in.
"Sorry, Oracle. Suits are in play. I can't take that risk and you all should know better if that's all of you've got to lure me in," Red Hood said.
His phone buzzed in hand and he smiled as he saw a text from Harvey appear. Good catch, Kid. It felt good to know that Harvey still had his back, even in a "cape" capacity.
"It's not like that," Oracle insisted. "But he told me to tell you he understands. It was mostly for Catwoman's benefit."
He smiled softly at the idea of Selina wanting to see him. There was no doubt in his mind Bruce had been honest with her. Those two had always had a strange but intense relationship that usually meant sharing their deepest and darkest of secrets. If he wasn't so sure they'd take advantage of his patrolling without Deathstroke to back him up, Jason might have taken them up on the offer.
As it was, Nightwing, Batman, Catwoman and Oracle on comms? Jason was good, but he wasn't that good. Not now that Bruce wasn't fighting with a handicap. Not now that Dick knew damned well who The Red Hood was and what he was dealing with. Not with Catwoman willing to fight as nasty as possible to help Batman bring down her favorite Robin. And certainly not with Oracle fuming mad about him threatening to expose them all.
Gordon's father still didn't know about her past as Batgirl, and he damned sure didn't know about her current activities.
Punk-ass, bitch.
Jason gritted his teeth and ignored the disembodied voice of the ever-present Black Mask. He cautiously scanned the area around him to be sure that no one had seen him start at the voice. Of course, he was alone. Not even Black Mask was showing his ugly mug.
The sound of clicking pulled him back to what he'd been doing.
"Sorry. Better luck next time."
1130hrs
Dick walked into the kitchen of Wayne Manor and smiled when he saw Bruce, Alfred and Selina surrounding the small island and laughing together. They were discussing some of Bruce's antics as a child, or rather, Alfred was speaking while Selina laughed, and Bruce rolled his eyes and blushed.
"Hey, we need to talk," Dick said as they all three looked up at him.
He had zero intention of ratting Tim out. But now that Dick had seen what it was that was haunting Jason he needed Bruce to know. Needed Alfred and Bruce to make contact with John Constantine or maybe even Zatanna? Dick wasn't sure who all could really help, but someone had to be able to, right? Black Mask was going to get Jason killed if he wasn't dealt with immediately.
"What's up, Dick?"
"I saw him," Dick answered. "I saw Black Mask."
Bruce's brows furrowed. "What?"
"Yesterday evening, after I got off work," Dick explained. "I went to talk to Jason. And he was fine. And we were fine. And I was standing calmly in his apartment. And then Jason freaked, but then I saw it, too!"
"What exactly did you see?" Bruce raised his hand before Dick could repeat himself. "Don't tell me 'Black Mask'. Tell me what you saw, Dick. Not what you think you saw."
Dick rolled his eyes, but complied, nonetheless. "I saw something where Jason had thrown his beer. It had a humanish head, but it kind of smeared and I think it was black."
Bruce frowned. "Has anyone else seen or heard anything whenever Jason has these episodes?"
"I don't know," Dick shrugged. "I could ask. I mean, Harvey and I aren't on the greatest terms, but if it was for 'JT's' benefit, he'd talk to me."
He saw Bruce's irritation, but didn't comment on it. Unfortunately, Selina did.
"Harvey? Who's Harvey?" She looked to Dick, but then her blue-eyed gaze fell to Alfred.
"Master Todd has been pretending to date Detective Harvey Bullock for the past couple of months. He moved in with him to keep up the ruse just before Black Mask died," Alfred explained.
Dick didn't really concern himself with how Selina took the news as he looked to Bruce. "Bruce, if he's being haunted then he's not crazy."
He noted the hope in Bruce's eyes before it flickered away. Dick didn't know why Bruce doubted him and Jason, but the sight angered him. Had he not promised he was going to try to make things better with Jason? He couldn't possibly do that if he was spending all his damned time doubting him.
"Dick, I know you want to believe that Jason is being haunted. I think Slade does, too," Bruce started as he straightened his stance. "But the fact is, Jason showed signs of madness prior to Black Mask's death and Joker… Joker's very much alive, and yet even Slade admitted that Jason has heard the clown's laughter in his head."
"So, he's just crazy?" Dick spat.
"That's not how he meant it," Selina interfered.
Dick glared and tightened his fists as he growled through his teeth. "Bruce doesn't need you to fight his battles for him, Selina. Butt out."
Selina started to move toward him, but Bruce had her arm and pulled her back before she could even try to get around the island. She turned to glare up at him, but Dick was pleased to see that Bruce was standing firm. The billionaire shook his head only once and it was enough to convince his girlfriend to stand down for the moment.
"I know you're upset," Bruce said when he finally looked back to Dick. "And I am not ruling out that he is in fact being haunted. You saw something, but I want to know more before I invite anyone else into this town or even tell anyone about Jason."
A feeling of revulsion built up so quickly in Dick's stomach he couldn't help but snap at Bruce. "You would be ashamed of him!"
Selina's jaw dropped and even Alfred looked disappointed in him, but Bruce appeared pissed as the man's face turned a deep shade of red. "That is not the case, Dick," Bruce said, his grip on Selina tightening to keep her from attacking. "Do not make the mistake of believing you are the only one who cares about Jason."
Dick stepped backward as the reality of what he'd said and how he'd hurt Bruce entered his mind. Damn his quick, nasty temper. Everyone had always believed it was only Jason or the second Robin with the bad temper, but Dick wasn't blind to his own flaws. He was probably the 'meanest' and certainly the most cutting of the Robins.
He bit at his bottom lip before releasing it with a breath. "I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't think."
"No, you didn't," Bruce agreed with a stern tone, but Dick would bet money that it was just a front to cover how deeply Dick had wounded him. "Jason has taken on a persona not just to trick us, but to protect us and himself. Bringing in Constantine would require explaining things to him that might inadvertently put Jason in more danger."
"Not to mention how angry Master Jason would be if his privacy were violated," Alfred added.
Dick found himself staring down at the floor as he nodded. They were right. He'd more than overstepped his bounds and he'd been selfish in his reaction.
He swallowed and then looked Bruce in the eye. "I will talk to Harvey and Roy, see if they've noticed anything."
"Check with Slade and Wintergreen, too," Bruce ordered. "I got the impression that Slade has never once seen or heard anything, but it will be interesting if others have."
Dick nodded and left the Manor, if only to give himself and Bruce a moment to get over how things had just gone down. He dialed a number and waited for the usual three rings before he heard Slade's clipped 'hello'.
"Hey, there's something I need to figure out with Jason," Dick began and before Slade could agree or disagree to his request, he barreled forward. "Has anyone else been hearing or seeing things? You know, other than me?"
Billy and Slade's Condo
1617hrs
Harvey sat at the table with a cigarette between his lips, a beer to his right, and five cards in his hand. He didn't have shit and he knew it. Roy Harper probably knew it, too. As did Billy Wintergreen, that fucking card shark. He should have known better than to agree to a night of cards with two men. Harvey wasn't bad, per say, being a detective made him pretty good at reading people. Especially a Gotham detective.
But Roy and Billy were good, too. Then again, both men were probably capes. Okay, maybe not Billy, but Roy definitely. Roy knew all about bluffing. He did have a fatal flaw though, and it was one Billy and Harvey both exploited. Extreme impatience. Roy had two tells due to his rush to get through a current hand and onto the next. One for a good hand and one for a bad hand.
If Roy had a shitty hand, he'd bounce his knee and wipe at his face somewhere, usually the mouth. But if he had a good hand, his shoulders would rise and he'd keep eyeing Harvey or Billy impatiently, like he was just waiting for them to hurry up so he could slap his cards down triumphantly.
Billy didn't have many tells, unless Slade was around. For some reason, Billy played like shit when the bodyguard was moving about. If Billy had a bad hand, he watched Slade a lot more, like he wasn't invested in his cards and was far more curious about what the other man was up to. When it was a good hand, Billy held the cards closer to his chest, like Slade might peek and give them all a hint or something.
Harvey folded, laying his cards face down on the table. He ashed his cigarette.
"You got one I can bum off, ya?" Roy asked.
Billy's right brow rose as he looked to Harvey. To be honest, Harvey didn't mind at all. They weren't in his apartment, so he didn't really give a shit about turning the walls yellow, but Billy was already puffing on a cigar. Would he want all three of them smoking at the same time?
"You mind?" Harvey asked.
"Not at all," Billy shrugged. "They're your cigarettes."
Harvey pulled out his pack and placed it between him and Roy, like he would have done and had when Jason joined in on the game. Between Jason and Harvey they could wipe two packs of cigarettes out in the four to six hours they spent playing cards with Slade and Billy, though that had only happened two or three times.
Slade was just unnaturally good at cards and Jason got way too pissed off when his bodyguard was playing. He'd shout curses and once even tossed the small kitchen table into Slade, just to see if he could get Slade's face to change expression. It never worked and only made Jason look like a damned psycho.
"JT and Slade joining tonight?" Roy asked before he lit up one of the cigarettes he'd taken.
Harvey looked to Billy for the answer.
"Far as I know," Billy nodded. "Otherwise, I get the impression you'd be on comms again tonight, right?"
"Yeah, JT and Slade are fucking slavedrivers," Roy sneered. "So, Harv, how does it feel working with capes? Or are we pretending you don't know, still?"
Harvey rolled his eyes while Billy chuckled. He wanted to smack Roy at times, but he supposed the little prick wasn't wrong either. He and Jason hadn't been able to discuss much and for his own self-interest, Harvey actively avoided learning anything about Slade beyond the fact that he was in charge for the time being and that he had no intention of letting something bad happen to Jason.
"Focus on the game, Roy, are you in or out?" Billy interrupted.
Roy scowled but then his knee started bouncing. Before he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, he wiped at the outside of his lips. "Yeah, yeah I'm in."
Poor, stupid, fool.
Harvey grinned as the men called each other and Billy won the round.
"Fuck," Roy cursed.
"That's what you get for trying to cause trouble," Harvey said as he started to deal the next hand.
"I just… It's hard to keep track, you know?" Roy complained as he picked at his nails. Or rather, what there were of his nails. They were so short; Harvey was sure the kid chewed them down to the quick.
Billy nodded. "I have to admit, this is the strangest job I've worked with Slade. I am not used to this many secrets or keeping track of so many identities."
"That's all I'm saying. I mean I know you know he's Red Hood. Obviously."
Harvey rolled his eyes. "I would hope so, he practically introduced us in the hospital, Arsenal."
Roy paled. "Fuck me."
"Keep referring to Jason as JT, both of you," Billy advised. "You don't want him getting out of the habit of answering to it nor do you want to get out of practice calling him that. Saying his name in public could be devastating to his plans."
Roy looked to Billy and then to him. Harvey could tell it freaked the younger man out a bit, but it was for the best. Roy was going to get himself in more trouble trying to determine what could or shouldn't be said. Thanks to Billy, Harvey knew all he needed to know and was armed with how to move forward.
Harvey looked to Billy, who gave him a sly wink. "I got your back, Kid."
"Kid? Nah, Roy here's the kid," he laughed as he shook his head. "I am too fuckin' old to be a kid."
Billy grinned. "You calling me old, Detective?"
"Well, if the orthopedics fit."
Harvey swelled with pride as Roy and Billy laughed loudly. It was nice having friends around. He'd tried to have friends on the force when he was younger, but it never worked out. You couldn't trust anyone and by the time he and Gordon realized they could trust each other, Gordon was a rising star in the ranks, climbing so high that any attempt at friendship would be inappropriate for a commissioner and his subordinate.
He finished dealing as they all settled in and was about to look at his cards when the door burst open and Jason came in carrying some groceries with Slade right behind.
"Fuck you, I didn't hear or see shit!" Jason growled. "Drop it, Cyclops!"
"Look, Bennet, I know what I saw," Slade said in a surprisingly calm tone. "You reacted again. You even told thin air to go fuck itself."
Jason set the groceries on the counter, either unaware of the card game going on a few feet away, or uncaring. Harvey cringed as Jason rounded on Slade only for the taller, stronger man to block whatever he'd attempted. Slade pinned Jason against the wall with an ease that wasn't natural.
Harvey knew for a fact how heavy Jason was. The big oaf was always plopping down on him just the same as Jason did his furniture. If Slade had Jason, who was only four or five inches shorter than himself, lifted off the ground it meant the bodyguard was so much more than that.
"You wanna throw down? Shall we take this to the gym?" Slade asked.
"Oh, give it a rest," Billy snapped. "You two train constantly. He's gonna burn out and go insane if you keep pushing him."
Harvey shook his head at Roy when the younger man started to speak up. This wasn't their fight and it was better to stay out of it. Billy seemed to hold some kind of sway over Slade that Harvey still didn't fully understand. If he wanted to bait a man who literally dripped lethality, then that was on him, but Harvey wasn't going to throw himself in the middle unless Jason was in actual danger.
"I'm fine!" Jason shouted, but even Harvey could hear an edge of panic in his voice. "I'm not going insane! Now put me down you fucking asshole."
"Should we—" Roy started.
"Running away, Harper?" Slade said as he dropped Jason and turned on the table of poker players. "Can you run, yet?"
Harvey watched as Roy's face turned the same shade of red as his own hair. He could see there was a spark of anger and pain in the freckled young man's bright green eyes and for some reason, that bothered Harvey. But not near as much as seeing Jason's own guilt-stricken face turn white.
"You know what," Harvey snapped as he got to his feet and faced the bodyguard. "You're an asshole and that makes sense."
"Harvey!" Jason warned.
He ignored everyone, even his own common sense because after seeing those two young men hurt, Harvey was sick of Slade's bullying. Tired of the way everyone kowtowed to him like their opinions and feelings didn't matter. The guy was something else and normally, Harvey's own self-preservation would demand he stay silent as he'd just warned Roy not but seconds ago to do. But he couldn't stay silent anymore.
He wouldn't.
"All these guys in this apartment are assholes," Harvey continued. "Hell, I'm an asshole, Slade. But you? You're more than that. You're a fucking bully who get his rocks off scaring the shit out of people, but especially out of these two young men and it's gonna stop." He looked to Roy and then to Jason. "And for fuck's sakes start standing up for yourselves, both of you! He wouldn't fuck with you two so damned much if you'd just tell him off."
Slade took a step toward him only to have Jason grab the taller, stronger man and throw him against the same wall he'd been pinned against. Roy too had stood along with Billy Wintergreen when Slade started to come after Harvey.
Yeah, it felt good to have friends again.
"Don't even fucking think about it, Slade," Jason said.
Instead of a thrown down ensuing, Slade grinned. "If I'd known that picking on you in front of your pseudo boyfriend was enough to get you to snap out of it, I'd have done this weeks ago."
"Probably wouldn't have worked weeks ago," Billy threw in with a shrug. "Harvey was just as frightened of you as they were."
Slade shrugged his shoulders and then ruffled Jason's hair. "Comes with the territory, I guess."
Jason released Slade and then started unbagging his groceries. Harvey sat back in his chair and Billy and Roy followed suit. To Harvey's surprise, Slade took the empty seat between himself and Billy. The bodyguard removed his black blazer and took an offered cigar from Billy while he pulled up his sleeves.
"What are we playing?"
Roy blinked at Harvey, but all he could do was shrug as he shuffled the deck. Forcing himself to remain calm and casual, he answered. "Dealer's choice, you'll deal next. The current game is Lowball. You playing, Kid?"
Jason scoffed. "I don't fucking play with Slade anymore, and you damned well know it. Besides, I'm cooking dinner."
"Pussy," Slade taunted.
"I second that," Roy laughed. "What are you making anyways?"
"Oh please," Harvey smirked as he finished dealing Slade in. "What does JT ever make?"
"Kid, I swear to God, if you make chili dogs again, I'll beat you senseless with my staff." Slade rolled his eye.
Harvey chuckled as even Billy spoke up. "I have to admit it would be nice to eat something that didn't cause heartburn."
"You know what, fuck you all!" Jason snapped irritably.
Slade leaned in toward Billy and quietly spoke to them all. "He's making clam chowder."
"From a can?" Roy giggled.
"Does he know how to make it any other way?" Harvey couldn't help but add as they all snickered and teased.
"I can hear you assholes talking shit!" Jason snarled, causing the group to laugh even louder. Jason continued to mutter curses under his breath as he moved about the small kitchen.
After a few moments, they all settled down and got on with their game. Harvey was impressed with Jason's focus in the kitchen. Normally he'd hang around the card table anyhow, but with Slade present, the youngest of their quintet stayed away from the game. But then, maybe Jason just needed to keep his attention on the cooking to keep it from burning or something.
Jason was the only one who really cooked among them and even then, half the time they all ordered out or Jason made chili dogs. Harvey kept looking back at the kid to make sure he didn't need any help or anything like that and was pleased to see that despite the way everything had started, Jason was in a great mood. He had a pair of earbuds in as he rocked along to something that was likely loud and from the nineties.
Probably Metallica.
Harvey was about to say something when Slade cleared his throat and said in a low tone, "You all seeing shit, recently?"
Billy frowned and Roy shook his head, but all three men looked to Harvey.
"Seeing what shit?" Harvey asked as he lit up another cigarette.
"Grayson said he saw something yesterday," Slade explained, but again kept his tone quiet. "Said that Jason flipped out and tossed a beer bottle at your wall, but Dick insisted he saw a black smear."
"Smear?" Roy said with a skeptical tone as he reached for the cigarettes as well. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Don't know," Slade answered and eyed Jason for a moment. "But I need to know before I chase down a lead if anyone else has seen or heard anything suspicious."
Harvey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know about any black smears, but I've had some pretty intense nightmares. 'Bout uh…" He hesitated as Slade watched him carefully. It was hard to have that man's attention centered on him. "It was about Killer Croc, but it wasn't like normal."
He was disappointed when Slade didn't shrug it off as a nightmare. "What made it different?" Slade asked instead.
"I don't get night terrors. Never have. Even after all my years on the force." Harvey frowned as he tried to figure out how to say that a nightmare wasn't normal for a fuckin' nightmare. "But these have been different. Like, I was… It felt real. So real that even after I woke up, some of what I saw didn't go away."
Billy took a breath and nodded. "Same," he said to the surprise of them all.
"What do you mean, 'same'?" Roy asked in a quiet, incredulous voice.
"It wasn't about Killer Croc," Billy amended. "But what I dreamt about, I've lived through already and it felt more real then when it actually happened, and it lingered. I still sometimes see them…"
"The kids?" Slade asked and Billy nodded.
Whatever it was, Harvey didn't know anything about it, and he could tell Roy didn't either because the redhead tilted his head like a confused puppy. He wondered what Slade was trying to figure out. So far, Jason had yet to admit to seeing or hearing anything. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Jason denied, denied, denied.
Slade eyed Roy next. "What about you, Harper? Nightmares, auditory or visual hallucinations of any kind?"
Roy snickered and shook his head. "I'm not the one being haunted."
Harvey checked on Jason again, watching him closely as he heard Slade snarl at the archer. "Listen, Roy, I know you've got something, so just spit it out."
Roy's leg started to bounce and Harvey looked away from Jason to stare at Billy. The old man agreed with a subtle nod. Slade was right. Roy was lying about something, but what did it mean exactly? Harvey and Billy were having bad dreams, Dick saw a black smear, Jason was screaming at and throwing things at whatever he saw and heard…
"Fine," Roy said behind gritted teeth. "Earlier today when I met up with Harvey, I went to use his bathroom and when I looked in the mirror I saw…" He blushed and glared down at his lap. "I saw… I saw Deathstroke."
Billy cringed and Harvey whistled low. Seeing Deathstroke? That was a bad omen. Now that Deadshot was dead, Deathstroke was the uncontested deadliest assassin walking the Earth. There was absolutely nothing wrong with being afraid of a man like that, especially if Harvey recalled what he knew of the Deathstroke and the Titans. Robin, Nightwing and Arsenal had all been Titans or Teen Titans and…
Harvey's spine straightened as the hairs on the back of his neck rose and he looked at Slade Wilson. Dick, Roy, and Jason, terrified of the one-eyed bodyguard. Slade threatening to use a staff, one of Deathstroke's most notable weapons. Roy Harper despising Slade Wilson with everything he had in him to the point he'd actually tried to launch himself at the 'bodyguard' when they were at the hospital, crutch and all.
"Ah, fuck me," Harvey frowned as he stubbed out his cigarette and rubbed his palms into his eyes.
"Don't worry, Bullock, you aren't on any lists that I pay attention to," Slade smiled cruelly.
"What about you?" he heard Roy ask Slade. "We've all heard and seen shit, have you?"
"No," Slade answered definitively. "Not even once. I was relieved when Dick said he saw something yesterday, too, but what worries me is that he didn't hear what Jason did. Why wouldn't he have heard Black Mask if he'd been there?"
Harvey finally dropped his hands and looked to Slade. "Maybe the ghost didn't want Dick to hear it?"
"Not entirely sure that would matter," Slade frowned. "Don't get me wrong, I don't do a lot of work amongst the paranormal, but I just wonder if there's something else at play."
"Like?" Billy asked, beating Harvey to the question.
Roy spoke up instead of Slade, his voice soft and wavering with something like concern. "Like maybe Jason really is losing his mind."
Harvey glanced at Jason as the kid stirred the soup within the large stock pot. He bounced his head to a specific rhythm that only he heard, but he was at peace. Or at least he appeared to be. Harvey didn't think Jason was insane. He couldn't be. He was a good kid and too much had happened to him for the answer to be that he was crazy. Jason deserved so much more than to lose his mind after everyone he'd saved and avenged.
He looked back down at his hand and prayed that Jason wasn't slowly losing his mind.
April 7th
0300hrs
?
Thoughts, dark, cruel and hateful ran through Jason's mind as he swore he could smell blood in the air. He didn't understand where he was, all he knew was that he could feel cold pavement beneath him. The feel of Joker's crowbar against his flesh was still fresh, still echoing and vibrating through his bones as pain lit up his nerves. It felt, for one agonizingly long moment, that Jason would not, and could not ever be free of the nightmare, the pain…
Had it happened again? Was he dying again? When did Joker catch hold of him and why? Why was Dick there? For that matter, why were any of these people watching him? Bruce, Tim, Harvey, Roy, and countless others. Men Jason had killed. Two-Face, Harley Quinn, Riddler, Deadshot and Hush… They all watched as if Joker's blows were a punishment.
A punishment he deserved.
Jason choked as his stomach churned violently. He tried to open his eyes, tried to see what was happening around him. He wasn't lying on the ground and he couldn't hear that horrifying laughter anymore. Everything was silent. Eerily silent save for the sounds of his struggle against the restraints that kept him strapped to a cool metal chair.
"Wake up, Jason," he whispered to himself as he felt his heart pounding against his ribs. "Wake up… Wake up!"
He moved his face, trying to figure out why he couldn't see when he realized that there was a blindfold wrapped tightly about his head, the knot resting against the back of his skull. He brought his shoulders up as much as could but wasn't able to force the damned blindfold away from his eyes.
He heard a door open and then the footsteps of a booted man enter. Something was being splashed all around and somehow, some way, Jason knew that this was Death. The Reaper had finally come back for him. Jason's time was up, and he was about to be punished, but for what?
All the killing? Or was it punishment for escaping Death to begin with?
The fumes from gasoline filled his nostrils and there was no doubt what was about to happen to him. Despite his racing heart and his fear of death, Jason could admit he was relieved at the method of his disposal. Maybe it would get hot enough to turn him to ash.
Please God let it get hot off enough to end me forever.
The heavy boot struck his chest and Jason, along with his chair, fell backward with a loud clatter. The back of his head throbbed as his breathing accelerated. He was hyperventilating, his body not nearly as at peace with another death as he tried to convince himself that his mind was.
Jason tried to rock himself back and forth, anything to get free. The boots approached closer and he screamed in rage as he felt and smelled the gasoline dumped all over him. He coughed and spat the fuel from his mouth.
"Show yourself, coward!" he roared.
Gloved fingers gripped his face harshly as the blindfold was ripped off. He tried to make out what he was seeing before him, but all he saw was Black. Suffocating, heavy, and infinite Black. He screamed into the void, but his voice was swallowed.
Deep down, Jason knew what was coming. He was enveloped in the cloak of Death's shadow. His light, red or white didn't matter, it was about to be snuffed out in Black, furious flames. He should have known he couldn't escape Death. Should have known that Death would return for him.
"I didn't, I didn't mean to come back," Jason shouted. "I never would have come back!"
He heard more than saw a match light. The silhouette of a man leaned against a door frame where a gray light shone. The stranger was familiar, too familiar. He blinked and shook his head.
No.
No!
Jason watched as the man in the doorway turned to face him. He was all shadow save the red cherry from his cigarette, but Jason knew him. It was his own self. He understood what was about to happen to him, and he couldn't help but take one last deep breath.
He caught the sight of a sign… A piece of cardboard written in his signature style. You can't undo the fate you've designed, Cuz all debts owed get paid in due time. - TRH
This was it.
I'm ready, he thought to himself.
He watched as an eerie red light shined of the man standing near. Jason saw his own face smile and wink down at him before tossing the cigarette into the accelerant.
Jason woke with a gasp and looked all about him, blinking away the ghastly image. He scrubbed his face with his hands and shivered as if her had been frozen. He had a fever, though. He just knew it by the way his eyes burned and throbbed in his skull.
At least you didn't scream yourself awake, Jason, he thought as he pulled himself out of bed.
He trudged into the bathroom and took a leak. The nightmare had been so fucking intense! It didn't feel like a nightmare. It felt real. Like he could have sworn he smelled the gasoline and felt the heat of the fire making its way toward him.
It was only by some miracle he hadn't screamed and woken Harvey or worse, Slade. He'd never hear the end of it and that big giant prick might try to isolate him from everyone again.
Jason reached forward, flushed the toilet and moved to the small sink and started washing his hands. There wasn't a lot of light spilling into the tiny bathroom window above the shower which told him it had to be really fucking late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it.
He splashed his face with the cool water despite how cold he felt and then took a calming breath. Just fucking breathe, you dumbass. It was just a nightmare. He repeated that to himself a few times as he looked to the mirror and chanced a glance at himself.
His hair was sticking up all over the place, which was pretty impressive considering how long it was. He ran his hands through it a few times and then looked into his own eyes when the entire face shifted.
Jason's heart ratcheted in his chest as he saw Joker's face. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut trying to make the damned clown disappear.
Slowly, Jason opened his eyes.
Boo!
Jason jumped at the sound of Joker's voice and laughing face. He punched the clown as hard as he could.
Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
Harvey hopped out of his bed and ran straight across the hall at the sound of something crashing. He arrived to see Jason grabbing the sides of his head, blood splattered across the white porcelain sink, the hard wood floors, and all over Jason's right hand. He eyed the mirror and knew immediately what had happened, but not why.
"Jason?" he asked softly, but was sure that whatever was wrong, Jason didn't hear him at all. "Jason!"
Strong arms slammed Harvey against the wall, and pain flared down the back of his head. He cursed and got back to his feet and chased a horrifically loud smashing of glass. He knew in an instant that Jason had just crashed through the balcony window and disappeared God only knew where!
His front door opened. He ran into the living room. Harvey frowned. His suspicions were confirmed. The incredibly tall and the average in height stood, watching him closely.
"What happened?" Slade demanded as he and Billy entered.
"He punched out the mirror, shoved me into the wall and took off from the balcony," Harvey answered.
"Fuck!" Slade cursed and disappeared back out the front door.
Harvey's hands shook as he walked over to his kitchen counter and grabbed his phone off the charger. He dialed Roy's number and waited for him to answer.
"Slade will get him, Harvey," Billy said in a quiet tone that he assumed was meant to sound supportive. "You don't need to call anyone."
Harvey rolled his eyes. "Bullshit. I get that Slade won't hurt Jason, but this is… This is something they need to know about."
To his surprise, Wintergreen didn't argue with him. He merely moved to a cabinet and started pulling out some tea and a couple of mugs. It was something of a relief to know that the assassin's friend wasn't going to fight him or stop him. Harvey had a sneaking suspicion that Slade wouldn't want Harvey involving Roy and the others, but dammit, Harvey had seen with his own two eyes how easily Bruce had managed to calm Jason back at the diner.
"Hey, Roy," he said when the archer finally answered. He steeled himself for the words he never thought he'd say willingly. "I need you to contact Batman."
0331hrs
Gotham Skyline
There was no doubt in Bruce's mind that it was a race to find Jason between himself, Dick, and Slade. He'd gotten the call from Roy literally minutes ago, just when Batman was about to head back to his vehicle and go home. Apparently Nightwing had only just been crawling in through his own window to get some rest when Roy received the call from Harvey letting them know what had happened.
He didn't want to know what Bullock knew or didn't know. Despite Alfred's warnings, he refused to give it his attention now. Not when his son needed him. Slade might have believed that he could help, and in some ways he probably could, but Slade didn't know the old Jason, the one that the boy had so clearly reverted to when his mind wasn't stable. It would put anyone at a serious disadvantage.
Slade and Dick would never know where to look for Jason, either. There were plenty of good guesses out there. Crime Alley of course, the exact spot Batman had first met Jason, the spot where Catherine had died, but Slade and Dick would guess wrong. Those places had never made Jason feel safe and unless he was trying to torture himself, he wouldn't go back while he was panicked.
No, Jason was going to go somewhere that had felt safe. Whether Robin, JT Bennet, Jason Todd or Red Hood, he'd find this place the safest and most comforting to try and calm himself. It was where Bruce had always found the boy whenever he took off from school before they settled on homeschooling, or when he was grounded from Robin and he sneaked out of the Manor.
Bruce landed on the old three-story building's roof oblivious to the near freezing temperature. It was a clear, though still dark, morning which made it easy to see the bloody trail. The trail proved that Jason had likely climbed the walls without any gear. His heart lurched at the thought, but clearly Jason had survived the precarious climb. Bruce didn't need to follow the crimson splatter to know where he'd find his son. He'd done this a dozen times in the past.
He found Jason sitting beside the vent he used to be small enough to crawl into, clutching at his thick, sweat dampened curls and gritting his teeth tightly.
"Jason?"
Bruce knelt beside his son and frowned when he felt the heat radiating off him. No doubt about it, Jason was burning up from an intense fever. He gripped Jason's shoulder, just firm enough to keep him from slipping out of his grasp. After several long seconds, the boy looked up at him in confusion. Was there some kind of delay thanks to the severe fever burning through him?
"Br- Batman?"
That his son was still with it enough to recognize the need for anonymity was a huge relief. He wasn't completely out of it and was likely lucid.
"What happened, Jason?" Bruce whispered.
"I turned into the Joker."
Bruce immediately shook his head and squeezed a little tighter. "No. You didn't. You're not him. You're Jason Todd, or JT Bennet, but you are not Joker. You are safe, son. Safe."
With a groan Jason moved closer and then dropped his head against Batman's insignia on his chest. Not wanting him to change his mind or pull back, Bruce gripped the back of Jason's neck with his gloved hand and used his free hand to gently rub at his back.
"Why did you think you turned into Joker?"
It took everything he could not to think of that night in the Wayne Cemetery… When Jason all but screamed that he didn't want to belong to Joker. That heartbreaking cry about not wanting to go crazy… Was that Jason's true fear? His real reason for fearing insanity? Did he truly believe he could become Joker?
"Had a dream," he was surprised to hear Jason answer without any kind of reluctance or badgering required. "I was… I was me and I was being beaten to death."
Bruce did his best not to freeze his actions of soothing the upset young man. This wasn't about Bruce Wayne or Batman losing their son. This was Jason's trauma, and he clearly was open to help at the moment. Bruce just had to hold it together the best he could for his son.
"What happened after that?" he forced himself to ask.
"I walked in. I lit myself on fire, but I don't think I was me anymore. I mean… I think I was Joker or some kind of version of him." Jason's brows were knit with confusion, but his mouth was tight with anger. He was frustrated. "When I got up, I washed my face and then I looked in the mirror and it wasn't me anymore!" Jason lifted his head up and looked up at Bruce with tears rimming his nearly glowing blue eyes. "I was laughing at myself, Batman. I was… I was him and I feel him inside my head… He's so loud, B. He's so fucking loud!" Jason whispered and pressed his head back against Batman's chest.
As much as he wished it weren't true, Bruce didn't know how to save or fix whatever was happening to his former Robin. With Jason sitting beside him, not quite in his arms, but resting against him, it was so reminiscent of the warehouse and how powerless he'd been then, too.
Why? Bruce ignored the burning of his eyes as he looked down at the top of Jason's head. Why couldn't he help him? Why wasn't there a salve he could apply to the wounds within Jason's mind and soul? It wasn't fair that the world had been so needlessly cruel to begin with, but then to drag the teen back somehow? To make him suffer through it all over again?
"Let me look at you, Jason," Batman said sternly. "You're bleeding and I can't see where."
Bruce knew Jason needed the firm stability of the Bat over the weak and uncertain man he felt he was in that moment. Besides, cleaning up and tending to the physical injuries was something Bruce could do. They both needed for Bruce to make himself useful. For Jason it would prove that he could come to him in the future; for Bruce it meant he wasn't just standing by uselessly.
Jason lifted his hands. The right in particular was bleeding the worst, but there was a lot of blood all over both hands. "This wasn't the plan, B," he said with a small pout.
"I know," Bruce nodded, and he did know. "You are anything but weak and vulnerable."
"The Replacement was right about me," Jason said, but then hissed when Bruce started plucking out pieces of glass. "I'm slipping. And I know what I sound like. Why is this happening to me, B? It was never, ever this bad. Not even when I first… you know."
After a deep breath, Bruce took Jason's chin between his thumb and forefinger. He wanted eye contact, even if it was only for a few seconds, because what he had to say was important.
"Jason Todd, you are not slipping. You're suffering. There's a difference. While something is wrong, I am not convinced your mind is one hundred percent at fault."
"But how I came back, I mean, how could it not fuck me up?"
Bruce smirked as he continued to work on removing the glass from a dozen or so cuts and gashes. "I think it's pretty obvious that you suffer a form of PTSD after how you…" He swallowed past the word. "Or how you came back. It is entirely reasonable that there would be some quirks for you to work around, but what's happening now? I'm convinced it's inorganic."
Jason's brow furrowed as he looked to him. "Huh?"
Bruce nodded. "I can't prove it yet, but I don't believe you're losing your mind." He pulled out a few bandages from his belt and some sterile wipes as he tried to figure out how to word what he believed was happening. "Inorganic may not be the right word," he conceded as he finished wiping up the cuts. "Manufactured though, that feels right."
He felt Jason's eyes boring into him as he went about bandaging or butterflying several cuts. "You think someone is doing this to me? How would that even be possible?"
"I am not certain yet, but if you allow me to take some blood, we can rule it and a number of other causes out," Bruce looked up into his son's eyes, prepared for some kind of argument.
Jason swallowed hard and then nodded. "Slade wants to think I see dead people."
"Then why does a man who is very much alive haunt you still?" Bruce countered. He didn't like the way Jason shivered at his words. "It's a possibility, Jason. I am not saying I disagree with Slade, because it actually does make sense. I just think we need to be sure before we start calling in John Constantine to come handle things that are none of his business."
"Slade said the same thing," Jason snickered. "You two are a lot alike in some ways, you know?"
Bruce gritted his teeth and refused to comment as he came to a finish.
"Not like that, but I mean, I think he has some regrets, B."
He couldn't help but snort at that. "I should hope so." He got to his feet and offered his hand, hoping Jason would accept his continued help.
Jason stared at the hand for so long that Bruce believed the end of their truce had come for the night. He was just starting to pull away when Jason grabbed his hand firmly and pulled himself to his feet. There was a look of thanks in his eyes that couldn't be voiced, but that was good enough for Bruce.
He quickly removed the cape from his shoulders and cowl and draped it over Jason. "Don't argue," he said as Jason started to do just that. "You're running around in boxers in the middle of an April night. It's cold. Now, let's get down from this roof and get you back home."
"Mine or yours?" Jason asked as he tightened his hold on the cape and wrapped it closer about himself.
"Whichever you'd feel safer in."
Jason smiled at him, and Bruce was happy that they were continuing to make their baby steps forward rather than backward. "Well, you need some blood, right?"
"And you are out of your Red Hood uniform," Bruce added with a smirk.
Jason grinned as they both headed for the roof's edge. The smile dropped and for a moment, as Bruce looked his son over, he could almost see Jason as the little boy who used to follow him everywhere. He looked reluctant and yet hopeful.
"Ask, Jason," he said.
"Can you tell Roy to let Harv know? I don't have my phone on me, and that guy worries worse than Alfred," Jason said apologetically.
"Of course."
**Spoilers** sort of... Dream sequence inspired by the song Greeting The Menace by Zack Hemsey off his Ronin album. One line was taken directly from this song and utilized partially for Jason's cardboard sign.
