Castor, Joker's son, crouched down at the edge of a rooftop. His eyes scanned his surroundings, his ears listening for the slightest sounds. He smirked as he heard a bang from a few warehouses to his left. Every other person wouldn't have been able to detect the sound, but Castor wasn't normal, he was trained.

That was the main difference between him and his father. The Joker's power laid within his tricks and traps, not martial arts. Castor was a master of both.

He smirked as he saw the heroes come out of the building. Aqualad was carrying a knocked out and bloodied Robin and Superboy carried Red Hood, who didn't look much better than his partner.
His grin faltered as he saw who Batman was holding. Green hair, now coated in red and the once purple suit. "That is unexpected," he muttered. Unexpected, yes, bad... not necessarily.

Then, he stared chuckling, clutching his stomach as he was full out laughing. He wiped his eyes as a creepy grin spread across his lips. "What a turn of events." Castor didn't feel sorry for his father. That man was the reason he hadn't seen his mother for so long.

When he was fourteen, the Joker had send him on one of his little missions and said that he wasn't allowed home until he had completed it. Said mission took two years to finish, but he didn't go home after that no, he had been found by someone.

This someone had trained him. At first, Castor had been sceptical, but his teacher had told him that, if he completed his training, then he wouldn't have to let himself be pushed aroud anymore, he could finally stand up to his father and could start a better life with his mother. That was seven years ago. Now he was twenty-three and finally ready to come back to the city he was born in.

There were a few reasons for him to be back, actually, one being his mother. Even if he detested his father, Harley meant the world to him. He couldn't understand why she stayed with the Joker. He was treating her like dirt when all she wanted was his attention and love. He'd make it up to her. He knew that she never stopped looking for him and that was all he could ever ask for.

His second reason: revenge.
Not on his father no, on someone who had betrayed him a long time ago. Castor frowned. Some would say it is stupid to loath a kid that was seven years younger than oneself, but Castor didn't care. He'd make him suffer.

Three, his little project. Even after he had finished his training two years ago, he never lost contact with his master. They stayed in touch and one and a half years ago, they'd started to work on a project called W.I.N.G.. They'd decided to buy a building here in Gotham to work on their experiment. His master was already here, but kept a low profile, so he wouldn't be on the Bat's radar. The scientists they had hired had finally succeeded with one of their test subjects and Castor was going to check out the results.

The young man forced his attention back to the people below. He could hear sirens in the distance, police or ambulance he wasn't sure, and groaned as he realized that he still needed something from his father. He pursed his lips and took out a smoke pellet filled with knock-out gas. If the bats and the team hadn't been so distracted, they probably would have been able to spot him, but they had two injured birds and a hopefully dead wanna-be father of the year to take care of, so Castor stood up to get a better aim and threw the smoke pellet on the street below.

He smirked as he saw how the heroes went down one by one. A snort escaped his lips as he heard Artemis groan out, "Not again."
Castor jumped down the building, a fall that could have easily killed him, but he landed in a perfect roll and put on his gas mask. Then he slowly walked through the mess of limps on the ground until he reached his father. "How I'd love to let you bleed out on the streets like the rat you are."

He shook his head and his blue hair was illuminated by the pale light of the street lamp that desperately tried to shine through the still thick fog. Castor grabbed his father roughly and slung him over his shoulder, smirking at the pained moan that escaped his lips. "You deserve this." His voice was muffled from the mask and dripping with malicious joy. Then he vanished into the night.
_

The first one who regained consciousness was Batman, which wasn't much of a surprise, considering that this wasn't the first time someone had used knock-out gas on him. He groaned and grabbed his throbbing head. "What the hell," he muttered as he looked around and saw that the only person missing was the Joker. "Great."

He blinked to shake off the dizziness. "Sir, are you all right?" He turned around to see a concerned looking nurse looming over him, her hand stretched out as if she'd tried to touch his shoulder, but decided against it. Batman nodded and pointed to his right. "Help Robin and Red Hood." He tried to keep his emotions out of his stoic voice as he looked at the battered bodies of his sons.
_

Dick was sure that he was dead. There was this annoying beep, beep, beep and he felt numb all over. Was this how Jason had felt? He didn't like it.

His eyes shot open as he thought of his little brother. "Jason!" He bit his lip hard to stop a pained moan as fire shot up his throat. Ouch. "Hey, easy. Jason's fine." He looked up and saw Damian and Tim sitting next to his... bed? "Where..." He coughed and it felt as if shards of glass were being dragged down his throat. Tears sprung into his eyes and Damian quickly gave him a glass of water. "Drink, Grayson." Dick smiled thankfully at him and gulped down the soothing liquid.

After a second of silence, he asked, "Where am I?"
"'Cave. You were out for two weeks. The first three days, you were in the hospital, but Batman insisted to take you and Jason down here." Dick nodded slowly. "Jason, how... how is he?"
Damian shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Father is with him at the moment." Damian sighed. "I feel sorry for father. He had to break his code. This must be hard for him."

Dick frowned in confusion until he finally understood what Damian was saying. "Oh God," he whispered, hugging his knees to his chest. He... He had killed the Joker and Batman had taken the blame. Now everyone thought Batman was a killer. Why aren't I dead, too? he thought. I should be.

He started to hypervebtilate as the weight of the situation finally sunk in. He had murdered someone. He had violated Batman's one rule. Don't kill. He gripped his hair and wimphered at the pain, but he didn't stop. He deserved it. He pulled harder. What would Batman do now? Banish him? He could hear he muffled yells of his brothers as his breath started to come out in short gasps. With an agonized scream, he lost conscious once again.
_

Jason felt at ease. No pain and he defenitifly wasn't dead, he knew how that felt. He slowly opened his eyes and glanced around. He was in his room in Wayne Manor. He frowned. How much drugs did Bruce pump into him that he didn't feel any pain at all? His mind was foggy, probably a side-effect of whatever was in his bloodstream. He wasn't able to fully clear his sight, so he didn't notice Bruce until the man cleared his throat. "You're awake."

Jason cursed himself as he flinched slightly. "Tur' the dwuws off," he slurred. Without a sound, Bruce stood up and decreased the dosage of whatever drug he was using on Jason. With each passing second, Jason was able to think clearer, but the pain returned too, and Jason closed his eyes for a brief moment, embracing the burning in his chest. Then he turned his attention back to Bruce, who sat in a chair next to Jason's bed.

"How do you feel?"
Anger bubbled up inside of Jason. "What do you care?" he spat, narrowing his eyes. Bruce would have let him die. Again. After Jason had finally started to trust his family, Bruce just had to destroy everything. He wouldn't have pulled that trigger. If it weren't for Dick, Jason would be dead. Again.

Bruce raised his hands in a calming manner. "I understand that you are angry."
"Angry? Angry?! You would have let me die! Again! You would have chosen the Joker over me and Dick! DICK! The Golden Boy, who does everything you tell him to do and now he had to kill because of you, because you were too weak to do it yourself!"

Bruce flinched visibly and a strange sense satisfaction filled Jason. He wanted Bruce to feel the same pain he had felt. "You and Damian have killed too and you are okay. Dick will get over it."
"GET OVER IT?! Do you listen to yourself?! Damian was raised by Ra's al Ghul and was trained to kill before he could walk and the Lazarus pit was messing with my head! And we weren't raised by you! Dick practically lived his whole life with the knowledge that there is only one golden rule. DON'T KILL!"

He gasped for air, glaring at his father figure as pain clouded his vision. Fuck, everything hurt. "I just don't get it, Bruce," he whispered. "Why would you chose the Joker over us? This was different from last time. I was already dead, I get you didn't cross your line back then, but this time? You really would have let him kill us?" he asked quietly, tears finally threatening to fall.

He hated to admit it, but he had started to see Bruce as a father once again and now this. Why? Most people forgot that Jason was only fifteen and just a child, that he was scarred for life and terrified of the idea of dying again. He was just a kid after all.

He looked at the tired eyes of Gotham's caped crusader. "Dick should have waited one more second."
"What?"
"I was about to pull the trigger, Jason, because I would've chosen you. I was ready to kill the Joker, but Dick beat me to it." Deep regret filled Bruce's eyes and Jason finally understood that Bruce was beating himself up for everything that had happened. "I'm sorry," mumbled Jason, looking down at his folded hands. He raised his head again as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"No, I should be the one apologizing. I... I should have never let you die in the first place." A small smile creeped upon Jason's features and he let Bruce embrace him in a kind of awkward hug. "If you tell the others about this, I'll kill you," threatened Jason, as he fell asleep in his father's arms.

_
A/N: So, what do you think? Who deos Castor want revenge on