Disclaimer: "Holy Lawsuits, Batman! She doesn't own us!"

When the Bough Breaks…

Summary: Set in the "Return of the Joker" continuity. After Tim's rescue, Nightwing temporarily returns to Gotham. But even with Dick Grayson around, the pieces of Batman's world slowly fall apart.

AN: Chapters 2 and 3 are up. Thanks for the great feedback guys! Just a quick note…I'm using the uncut version of "Return of the Joker" for this story. Personally, I found that version of the Joker's death (shot with the "BANG" gun) to be more emotional than the electrocution. If you haven't seen this version, I'd recommend trying to get your hands on it, if only for that scene.

Chapter 2: Junior

Ha.

"I gotta' get outta' town for a while, Tim."

"Again?" he asked, picking up a jelly doughnut from the pink box.

"Heat's on. You know how it is, kid. I'll be back in a few weeks."

"Right, Dad."

"Take care of yourself, JJ."

Ha. Ha.

"What?" he looked up sharply, but his father was gone. "Must have heard wrong," he muttered to himself, focusing back on his doughnut. It was frosted white with two red jellybeans placed symmetrically near the top. Rainbow sprinkles formed a half crescent on the bottom. He stared at the smiling image. "Weird. Didn't see that before." He moved the food to his mouth, ready to bite into it, when a familiar sound stopped him. Laughter. He slowly pulled it away from his mouth and looked back at the frosted surface. The half-moon mouth opened and closed with the laughter.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

He gasped and dropped it. It landed face down on the table. The noise stopped.

"Get a hold of yourself, Tim," he told himself, picking up the doughnut again. The frosting was smeared on the table, but any signs of the face (and laugh) were gone. Still, he'd lost his appetite.

He went to the trashcan, opened the lid, and fell in.

"Whoa!" He was falling fast in blackness. Fumbling around his utility belt, he found his grapple, and shot it upwards. It locked onto something and he controlled his fall into a swing. He veered right, and the darkness melted into the red sky of Gotham City. He landed easily on the roof of Wayne Tower. Next to Batman.

Ha. Ha.

"Anything?"

"Nope. City's clean."

The older man nodded. "Then we're done for tonight." He pulled out his grapple gun. "Let's go, JJ."

Ha.

Robin jerked his head sharply to his partner. "What?"

But the man had already launched himself off the Tower. Robin shot of his own grapple and swung to catch up. He reached Batman in the down arc. "Why did you call me that?" He yelled to be heard over the traffic.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Instead of responding, Batman turned his rope sharply and delivered a kick to Robin's midsection. The force of the blow sent the boy off his trajectory and crashing onto a near by roof with an "Ooof."

It wasn't the kick that had winded Robin the most. It was the expression on the face of Batman (who had landed on the roof shortly after him). He was smiling.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

"Batman?"

Ha. Ha. Ha.

The man stalked towards him, still smiling. His teeth were yellow.

"Don't come closer." He needed to get off this roof. He felt blindly for his grapple. It had to have fallen near him. His left hand found its handle.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

He seized it and aimed. But it wasn't a grapple in his hand anymore. It was a gun.

Ha. Ha. Ha.

He pulled the trigger without hesitation. A metal rod with a banner reading 'BANG' flew from it's barrel and plunged itself into the Bat on Batman's chest.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

"Oh god," Tim whispered. The gun fell from his limp hand.

Batman fell to his knees, still smiling. His cowl began melting and blurring, until it was ghostly white on his face. His eye's and lips turned red. "That's it, sonny," He wheezed through Batman's voice. "You're just like me now." He voice grew less gruff, and sharpened with laughter.

"No." Tim looked down and saw the red of his own costume fade into purple.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

The older man's face turned pale and gaunt. The voice was not Batman's. It was the Joker's. "You're just like me now, JJ."

***

"No!"

Dick jumped toward the bed, immediately, trying to hold Tim down as he struggled against his sheets. "Tim, wake up!" He held the boy by his shoulder, and shook him.

"I'm not. Stop calling me that!" Tim pulled a hand free and sent a fist flying. Dick easily caught it before it made contact with his chin.

"Damn it, Tim!" He released the boy's shoulder and settled for pinning his arms to the bed. "Wake up! You're safe! You're at home!"

Tim ceased his struggling. His eye's shot open and looked around wildly. He breathing was fast and ragged. "Wha…Where…?" he rasped out.

Dick let the boy's hands go and placed his palm on Tim's forehead. "You're at the manor. You're safe now. You were just having a nightmare."

Tim took in his surrounding, and then focused on Dick's face. His breathing eased a bit. "You're here?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Knew you couldn't say away for long," he said lightly. It killed Dick to hear him try to ease the mood despite everything that had happened.

Tim pushed up on his elbows, trying to sit up. Dick helped him, and pushed a few pillows behind him so he could lean back. Without the blankets to shade his face, Dick could see the bleached skin of his successor. His eyes were still hallowed and wide, his teeth yellow and bared. But there was no smile. No smile.

Dick pushed away his anger. For Tim's sake, he had too. "How you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?"

"It depends on if they've found a new anti-toxin yet. Hey, don't look so surprised," he said at Dick's surprised expression. "Bruce may not want me to know what's going on, but that doesn't mean I can't figure it out by myself. I'm not completely stupid."

Dick ruffled his hair. "You sure aren't, kid. They're still working on it, but I'm sure they're close."

"Right." Tim leaned back on his pillows. "Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming."

He put his hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed. The boy surprised him further by pulling him forward and wrapping his small arms around Dick's torso. He patted the boy's back, awkwardly first, but then comfortingly. "Couldn't keep me away, kid. Couldn't keep me away."

***

Chapter 3: House Call

"I wish you'd called me as soon as you found him, Bruce. Not a week later."

"He was in good care here, Leslie. "

"Maybe," she said as she injected the orange anti-toxin into Tim's arm, "but as your family Doctor—"

"He was fine here." His tone told her that he was done with that subject.

"Fine, Bruce." She pulled the needle out and placed it back on the bedside tray. She watched the sleeping boy's skin regain a more natural color. His eyes lost the darkness around them and the lips returned to their normal size. "He's going to need more of these."

"How many more?"

"It's hard to say. Maybe once a week to start with. It might reduce to once a month after a while." She checked his heartbeat with her stethoscope. "The only way to know for sure is to see how often he regresses. I've never treated a patient for anything like this before, so I can't give you anything specific." Satisfied, she put the instrument back into her bag and closed it.

"You're a doctor. Your job is to give me the specifics."

She laughed humorlessly. "And your job is to keep these boys safe Bruce. I watched you do it to yourself. Then Dick. And now Tim. I prayed that you'd stop this foolish crusade of yours before something happened. Something like this."

He clenched his jaw, but kept his voice cool. "I don't need a lecture from you. I need to know if he's going to be okay."

He picked up her bag. "Physically? Eventually, he'll be fine. Just keep him on the doses of the anti-toxin, and the effects will subside. Emotionally? Well, that damage can't be fixed with an injection. He's going to need psychiatric help."

"You know he can't see a professional."

She brushed passed him to the door. "Right, of course, can't give up the family secret, can we?" She grabbed the handle and pulled hard.

"Leslie," he said softly, putting his hand on her forearm. "Whatever he needs I'll…I mean he's got to…You know I'll do whatever needs to be done."

Bruce Wayne, at a loss for words. "I know you will." She turned and faced him again. "Weekly sessions. With me. We'll start in a few days."

"Thank you, Leslie."

"I don't want your thanks. I want you to promise me you'll stop this. Stop your war. I'm tired of fixing up its casualties."

"I can't stop. This is my life." He silenced her before, she could argue. "But I'm going to make sure it isn't theirs."

***

To Be Continued…

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