"So who is this Connor guy anyway?"

Jocelyn knew he was going to ask it eventually. He'd manage to get over most of his sourness, but she'd still have to tread lightly.

They were on their way home. It had been 24 hours since she had been wounded. Jason tried to convince her to rest a little more, but she just wanted to get back as soon as possible. They waited until it was dark so they could slowly make their way through the city unseen. "I don't know much about him before the time I met him," she began. "His name is Connor Johannes. He was a… bodyguard, I think? Or a cop? I don't remember. Then something happened; I didn't ask too many details, but it had something to do with his wife being killed. It was some kind of terrorist attack, though people tend to get the wrong idea when they hear that. In reality, it was just a couple of disgruntled people who wanted to 'fuck the system' and shot up a street. He just abandoned his life after that; took his baby daughter and ran away. He came to Axiom around the time that I did. I guess that's why we bonded; we both lost people close to us."

The massive bite wound was starting to sting with every step again. Jocelyn put a hand over her stomach, her fingers tense from the pain. "Jason, can we stop for a second? It's starting to really hurt."

They paused for a rest. Jason looked down the street. "We're almost there," he noted. "You want me to just carry you?"

"Carry me?"

"Yeah, why not? It'll be simple; like this." Without warning, he swooped down and picked her up. Jocelyn inhaled sharply as pain shot through her body. "Whoops. But see? Nice and relatively painless." He started walking. "Enjoying the ride?"

"It's a little bumpy," Jocelyn joked. "Hm, this is kinda cute. When was the last time you carried me like this?"

"Well that… That would be… Oh, I remember. That time I kidnapped you and brought you to Scarecrow, remember? He gassed you, and then I knocked you out and locked you up. Good times."

"That's fucked up."

"Sorry."

Jocelyn let out a curt laugh. "Sorry? Wow, suddenly that makes everything better!" As they drew near the apartment, Jason carefully lowered her back onto the ground. They hid into a nearby alleyway that was completely unlit. Hidden in the alleyway was a duffel bag.

"All right, babe. Time to strip for me," Jason teased. Jocelyn gave him an unamused look as she stowed her helmet away in the bag. Then, she took off the Specter suit. The tank top she wore underneath was ripped and stained with blood. Jason looked at it with a little concern.

"That's definitely going to draw some curious eyes," he noted.

"Give me your jacket," Jocelyn suggested. Jason looked down at the Red Hood jacket in his hand. Reluctantly, he handed it to her.

"Um…"

"No one's going to tell if I wear it," Jocelyn said, pulling the jacket on and tucking the red hood in. Then, she zipped it up, covering the wound and stains. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you wear it all zipped up like this."

"That might be the first time the zipper's been used," Jason admitted. He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and offered his other arm to her. "Ma'am?"

"Such a gentleman!" Jocelyn mused as she took his arm. As they walked, she leaned on him to avoid limping. They made their way out of the alleyway and continued down the street looking like any other ordinary couple.

As he opened the door, Jason felt a wave of relief wash over him. There was really no place like home, even if that home was shitty at times.

"God, I'm starving!" Jocelyn said as she limped through the door. For a wounded person, she sure moved fast as she hobbled into the kitchen. Or maybe that was the hunger giving her power. Jason knew first-hand how vicious that girl could get with an empty stomach. "Please tell me there's something waiting for me in the fridge!" he heard her plead from the other room. Jason walked over to the den and threw the duffel bag onto one of the chairs. Through the open door, he heard a chorus of clanking as Jocelyn ruffled through the silverware drawer.

With an exhausted huff, Jason collapsed onto the second computer chair. The worn cushions squeaked under his weight. He leaned his head back, raising both arms and draping them over his face. It was like his body had waited until this moment to unleash all of its exhaustion on him. Then, he heard Jocelyn call out from the kitchen.

"Jason?"

Oh no. He didn't want to get up just yet. "Yeah?"

"Did you move the knife?"

"Huh?"

"The kitchen knife. It's not in the drawer. Did you use it recently?"

"No. Try the sink." The apartment wasn't big, but somehow shit managed to go missing all the time only to turn up again a few days later. Whenever it happened, Jocelyn would always joke and say that the 'little people' took it.

"It's not in the sink either," Jocelyn said after a few seconds.

"Must be the little people," Jason suggested. He couldn't help the small, giddy smile as he said it.

He heard Jocelyn let out an irritated groan. "Fucking little people," she grumbled. Then came more shuffling in the kitchen.

Now that Jason had a moment to himself, he couldn't help but go back to what Connor had told him on the bridge. It never occurred to him that Jocelyn had suffered just about as much as he had after they both left Gotham. While he was stationed in Venezuela, he worked himself to the bone so that he'd never have a quiet moment when betrayal and heartbreak could creep up on him. Nevertheless, they had always been there, taunting him in the corner of his mind, laughing loudly in his nightmares when he tried to rest.

Had she been like that too? I saw what she was like when she thought no one was looking. When he was alone, away from the eyes of his men, he would often sit quietly through the night, thinking of her. Back then, any memory of her was laced with anguish. But, as fucked up as it was, he had grown to savor the pain. He'd use it to strengthen his hatred towards Batman. And sometimes, just sometimes, those memories would offer a brief respite. A fleeting pocket of happiness that he'd crave like a drug.

"Are you going to bed already?" Jason's eyes flew open as the thought vanished. He lifted his head and looked towards the open door.

"What?" he replied? He saw Jocelyn quickly hurry over and look inside the den, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion.

"Uh… that's weird," she mumbled. "I thought I heard you going to bed."

Jason hadn't heard a thing. "Are you sure?"

"Well I heard the door open and close," Jocelyn said. "But I guess it probably came from the neighbors or something. These walls are pretty thin."

"Unfortunately for them," Jason said. "All though I am pretty beat. You mind if I turn in?"

"If you're tired, then sleep," Jocelyn insisted, her voice fading as she returned to the kitchen. "I might be a while, though. My food rampage isn't finished yet."

Jason pushed himself up from the chair, causing it to skirt away. "Calm down," he muttered. "I don't want to see the kitchen completely pillaged in the morning."

"Aye," Jocelyn answered in a phony Scottish accent. "But pillaging and ransacking be in me blood, y'see!" He heard her giggle at her own silliness.

"Holy Christ," Jason groaned. "I'm leaving. Good night." He went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Immediately, something out of place caught his eye. There was a small square on the foot of the bed. Even with the lights off, he could tell what it was. The question was why was it here? Before he had set out to find Jocelyn earlier that night, he was certain that the old photograph of them lying in the grass had been in that drawer in the den. He walked over to it and picked it up. After a brief examination, it appeared there was nothing odd about it aside from the fact that it was here. Well, maybe it wasn't as mysterious as Jason assumed. Jocelyn probably put it there as some sort of cute gesture.

There was still some tiny part of him that couldn't accept that explanation. Something felt wrong. With the photo in hand, Jason turned and headed towards the kitchen. He had opened the door to only a crack when he heard Jocelyn say something.

"Just go to sleep already, you creep!" A brief pause. "I know you're there, Jason. I just saw you dip your head back behind there!"

Jason felt a horrible feeling sink in his stomach even before he understood what was going on. Did Jocelyn just say she saw him? But he was still standing in the bedroom doorway, several yards away from the kitchen. Throwing the door open, Jason sprang forward. "Jo!" he called out. "Stay right where you are!"

It was already too late. He heard a heavy shuffling, followed by her scream and the sound of glass shattering. There was the loud thump as something heavy hit the ground. In his hurry, Jason was barely able to stop himself from running across the broken shards of glass that were strewn across the ground leading to the kitchen.

Jocelyn's screaming had transformed into muffled grunts as something was presumably covering her mouth. Then, Jason heard a chilling voice softly shushing her.

"There is no need to fear," the intruder murmured to her. His calm voice was patchy with strain as there was more shuffling. Jocelyn was apparently struggling against him. "I see you now, so lovely, yet so tragic. Another lost little soul trapped in a zombie shell. Don't worry. There is beauty, there is freedom, in death."

With a tremendous leap, Jason launched himself towards a wall, and then kicked off it at an angle that sent him flying over the glass and into the kitchen. He landed in a crouched position on the balls of his feet. As he rose, so did the intruder. But he brought Jocelyn up with him, the knife pressed against her neck. The arm that held the cold metal was covered in tally marks.

"Steady, steady now," he hissed from behind Jocelyn, one cold eye peering out from behind her head.

Scowling, Jason shouted, "If you do anything to her, I'll tear off each and every one of those tallies, Zsasz!"

"My, my! So testy; nothing like Batman, I see!" Zsasz remarked in a gentle voice as he and Jocelyn slowly backed away. "Do you too appreciate the virtue of the afterlife? Would you like to follow after this harrowed maiden unto liberation?"

Before Jason could answer, Jocelyn said, "Neither of us are dying tonight, you fucking looney!" She jerked her head back, slamming it into Zsasz's face. As he stumbled back, she pushed his knife arm away and hooked a foot around his ankle, causing him to fall back. Zsasz was taken by surprise as he hit the ground, but his nasty agility had him on his feet in no time. It was Jocelyn's turn to be surprised.

The marked killer charged forward with unrestrained wildness and tackled her down. As Jocelyn hit the ground, she let out a cry of pain, both of her hands flying to the wound on her stomach. Now, Zsasz wasted no time as he slashed toward her throat with the knife. But before the sharp edge could make contact, Jason seized the maniac and threw him off of Jocelyn. As Zsasz tumbled across the floor, the knife flew from his hands and clattered on the kitchen floor. In a flash, Jason had the killer pinned on the ground with a knee, the discarded knife in his hand.

"I'll fucking gut you!" Jason growled, gripping the knife tightly.

"How generous!" Zsasz laughed, choking under Jason's weight. "Will you continue my work, perhaps?"

"Continue? Fuck no! Your sick shit ends here!"

A pair of hands grabbed and pulled Jason's arm back. "I don't think you should do that," Jocelyn hissed in Jason's ear.

"I don't want to hear your mercy spiel this time!" Jason snapped back. "This fuck almost killed you!"

"It's not that," Jocelyn retorted. "It's just that we're going to have a hell of a time with a dead guy on our kitchen floor." Almost on cue, there was a barrage of angry knocks at the door. "Shit!" She let go of Jason's wrist. "I'll take care of that. Don't do anything stupid."

Jason stared angrily down at Zsasz as Jocelyn hurried to answer the door. The maniac had a nonchalant smile plastered over his face. That grin… that stupid… fucking… awful… horrible grin. It just reminded him too much of that red, stretched smile. Jason wanted nothing more than to bash his face in and get rid of that god-awful smile.

"What's with all this fucking noise?" he heard the man at the door demand to Jocelyn. "What are you even doing? Do you know what time it is? You've woken my kid up with all this thumping and crashing!"

Zsasz opened his mouth. Before he even make a noise, Jason's hand was squeezing his throat.

"I am so sorry," Jocelyn apologized. "It's just that my brother's visiting for the week and he's had a little too much to drink. We've put him to bed now, so there shouldn't be any more noise. Again, I'm really sorry for bothering you."

The neighbor from downstairs grumbled something in response. A few seconds later, the front door closed. Jocelyn reappeared in the kitchen.

"We can't just let him go," Jason told her.

"I know. If he's here, he obviously knows who we are," Jocelyn replied. She stared icily down at Zsasz. "Tie him down. We're going to give you plenty of time to think of some good answers, Victor. And then you're going to explain yourself to us."

"There's no need," Jason said. "I know how he got here." Someone had told Zsasz to come here tonight. Someone who was currently out 'sightseeing' Gotham.

Addendum: Again, another scenario that freaks me out: having someone in your house without you realizing. Good thing I live in a cardboard box.

Also, how could I have been so naïve all these years! It turns out that my upstairs neighbors weren't actually practicing river dancing in metal boots every evening! They were actually being assaulted by Victor Zsasz! Oh, pardon me, neighbors!