Even if only a fraction of what he saw on the news was accurate, it was pretty easy to tell Gotham City was going to shit… again.

He couldn't be sure exactly what was going on, or who had instigated the whole thing, but the gang war Blondie was so worried about was looking more and more likely the longer he looked at it. Enforcers were turning up dead, graffiti marking being tagged over with symbols he hadn't ever seen before.

No wonder the Bats had been running themselves ragged enough that Blondie had been willing to got to one of the Red Hood's contacts. Sticky rat was probably in prison, too bad, seeing as he had his pudgy fingers in everything, he'd made a good, scared informant.

Not that Jason had much use for those when he was stuck pacing the little room with only the T.V and a few whispered conversations that passed through the shut door from the gang members who came into the free clinic to get their various bullet holes stitched shut.

A trio of pills and a glass of water sat on the stands next to the narrow bed, made neatly with the brightly colored blanket folded at the foot of the mattress. He could leave at any time, would have already of not for Leslies stern warnings about the possible withdrawal symptoms that could still hit.

He'd seen enough of what those could do to be wary of forgoing her advice.

Those pills though…

There was nowhere he could ditch them in the time it would take for The Doctor and Blondie to finish their hushed conversation on the other side of the door. He wandered if they knew he could hear every word they said and were just being quiet to avoid being heard by someone else.

Pale green, bright yellow and a small white capsule sitting innocuously just in sight. His back pressed against the wall just under the window. If there was any silver lining to the muscle mass he'd lost in Arkham, it was that he could fit through that little square if escape became necessary.

Risk of a stroke though…

He pinched the bridge of his nose a glared through his bangs as the door opened to reveal Leslie, a stern frown on her wrinkled face, and the current Batgirl wringing the edge of the pink shirt poking out under her denim jacket.

"Hey Jay." The girl pressed her blonde locks behind her hair as Leslies frown deepened.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed yet, young man." If he didn't know any better, Jason would have guessed Bruce had learned his trademarked bat-growl from her. Considering her age though, she would definitely have throat cancer by then if she'd tried that voice when Bruce had been impressionable to ick it up, and she looked too healthy for that.

"There's nothing wrong with my legs." Jason slouched a little more against the wall, projecting an air of lazy confidence. "Unless I fall and break one, I've had enough bed rest to last me the rest of my life."

"Stubborn." Her eyes fell on the untouched pills, and his followed unwillingly before shooting back at Blondie. "You're likely to break more than your legs if you fall in your state." He was more relieved than he would have thought possible in dealing with an old woman when she turned and left without saying anything else.

He still had to endure Blondie's less than happy groan in the seconds that followed the tense silence.

"Is it at all possible for you to go a day without being an ass?" She dropped bonelessly into the chair she'd doctored with more pillows than should have been legal. "She's just trying to help you Jason, and you're dropping way too many hints about not being a normal frat guy."

Trying to help? Yeah, her and every shrink in Arkham.

"She figured it out the first time I opened my mouth." Jason waved his hand dismissively. "And no, you can't convince me to take that stuff."

"Oh come on." She rolled her eyes. "I promised you would, and it's not like they're gonna make you sick, Jay. They'll actually make you not get sick. "It's just three little…"

"Moxifloxin, Dramamine and methylphenidate." Jason listed off, keeping his voice level despite the implications of the last one.

"Ooooh, you can remember the bog sciency names that I bet you made up, they sound really made up." She waved her hands in front of her, before turning her attention to the T.V screen. "What if you just take the antibiotic?" She picked up the green tablet, you know you can't just stop them without finishing the course. She tip toed dramatically to the door and pressed her ear against it, before stage whispering loudly enough that someone on the other side would have no problem hearing. "I'll give you the candy bar I snuck in."

"No thankyou. The spaghetti-ohs were bad enough, I don't want to know what cheap chocolate tastes like coming back up."

"The spaghetti-ohs were you own fault, and Doc said the Drama-whatever will make it so that doesn't happen anymore." She returned to the T.V and began messing with the built in DVD player.

"I was watching that." He sighed, but moving across the room wasn't worth the effort.

"This is better." She pulled out a plastic case and proudly showed him the cover.

"The corpse bride?" he was sure his eyebrows were trying to escape his face with how high they rose. Who in their right mind made a kids show called that.

"I think you'll really identify with the characters." She said seriously, the effect ruined by her failure to keep the grin off her face up until the last second.

Jason moved a little closer to squint at the stick thin blue people on the cover. "Fucking creepy lookin'."

She nodded enthusiastically. "And I brought popcorn too."

"Fine, but I'm still not taking the Ritalin."

.

.

.

"Die, die, we all passed away, don't wear a frown cause it's really okay, you might try to hide and you might try to…"

'Must you clutter the channel with you horrendous singing, Fatgirl?' Damian tried out his Batman voice over the comms that night.

"It's catchy." Steph defended, swinging her way down a fire escape to give some loitering drug dealer a minor heart attack. She didn't mention that catchiness aside, the song was stuck in her head because Jason had liked the musical number so much they hadn't even been able to finish the movie with the amount of times they'd rewatched it.

She wondered how mad he'd get if she pointed out how young throwing his arm over his face every time he laughed made him look.

'It's a little morbid considering.' Tim's voice was just a hint tighter than normal.

"I didn't really die, Tim." Steph looked up at the sky that was just beginning to turn a little grey. Almost time to head home. "But hey, if I had, would that make Tam Victoria?"

'What are you idiots blathering on about now?' Damian growled.

'You've never watched the corpse bride, Dami?' That Dick used the boy's real name meant Batman and Robin were either real close to their home base, or they'd gotten their already.

'What does Tam have to do with that movie?' Tim asked, drowning out Dick excitedly trying to convince Damian that they 'had' to watch the movie before their next patrol.

"Nothing." Steph sighed and began the trek back to her bike. The next day, well technically it was already Saturday, and she was looking forward to having a good night's sleep for once.

'Hey, Batgirl can we talk before you head home tonight?' Tim sounded about as tired as she felt. 'Off the comms?'

"Where?" Steph held back a yawn and powered on the bike.

"That's what I wanted to ask you."

She let out a little yelp when Tim appeared, dropping out of the sky like a shadow and landing in front of her with a muted thump.

"What the hell Ti…" She caught herself just before saying her name and tried to punch him.

He ducked away from her fist and looked almost like he was going to chuckle before his face went that steely cold that reminded her of Bruce on one of his better days. She followed him up to a rooftop before he spoke.

"Where is he?" Tim asked, "And please don't pretend not to know who I'm talking about?"

"Hood?" Steph guessed, because really, there were multiple people he could be asking about.

"We found some things on the tapes we brought back to the cave that had B worried." Tim brought a hand to the back of his head and looked towards the asylum standing out against the lightening sky in the distance. "We went back to Arkham to check the ones we didn't get a chance to move and all we found was a pile of smoking film."

"Oh, those tapes." Her distaste for the topic permeated every one of her words, not that Tim didn't already know that before he brought it up. "Hood's gone, why are you still watching those things?"

"Because Doctor Arkham was asking him a lot of dangerous questions and we need to know how many of them Hood answered. Or at the very least why he'd go through all the trouble of burning all the tapes, not that he had to have a reason…"

She wanted to think Tim meant they suspected Arkham of getting rid of the evidence himself, but the guy was still in the hospital, and not exactly capable of talking, they both knew that. And Tim would call her out on playing dumb if she tried to deflect.

"You really think Jason snuck back into Arkham to burn all those tapes, that he even knew they were their?"

"He knew how to manipulate his way into those tunnels then who knows what else he…"

"You watched so many of those things, you saw what that… thing did to him." She wished she didn't have her cowl on so she could tug at her hair, but all she managed to do was raise her hands about level with her head to keep them away from Tim. "You really think he'd put himself through that?!"

"What if he was faking, or he didn't know what he was in for." His voice that fake calm he used whenever he thought someone was being childish. "I know you think you know him, Steph, but we know him better, and it doesn't take a genius to trick a good person like you into thinking he needs your help, we have to consider the possibilities…

"What, that he's Harley Quinned me?" Her fists clenched tightly at her sides as she stared him down. "I don't know where he is, and I'm too tired to deal with this right now, goodnight Tim."

Maybe she 'didn't' know Jason as well as them, but she'd been their when the little strength he'd used to put a bit of weight on his feet had given out. They hadn't been their when she'd had to drag him all the way to Leslies and he'd just stopped breathing before she was even close.

They hadn't seen him screaming as soon as his lungs worked and almost dying from a seizure he was too young to have had, or trying to claw his own hands open because he thought there was something eating him from the inside out.

She knew Jason hated being seen as weak, and wouldn't pretend he was for anyone, wouldn't 'let' anyone pump him full of drugs just to make the act more believable, not when Leslie couldn't even coerce him into taking her mildest pain medication. She knew he hadn't been the one to burn the tapes because he was still too sick to leave his little room at the clinic.

Tim's firm grip on her shoulder kept her from actually reaching her bike.

"You're worried about him, I get it." At least he wasn't using robot voice anymore, but she still didn't turn, carefully keeping her watery eyes shielded from his view. "And…" he paused, like what he said next took something out of him. "You're not the only one, but we can't all afford to be compromised, someone has to consider the possibilities. And hurt or not, he's still very dangerous, and very angry with the people who put him in that situation, with us. There is the possibility that he answered those questions truthfully and we need to know so we can be prepared for that possibility when Arkham wakes up."

He sighed loudly and Steph got the feeling he wanted to remove his cowl as much as she did hers. "I'm not going to throw him back in the psychiatric ward. I just need to talk to him."

"You know he hated me visiting him in Arkham." She swung a leg over her bike. "What makes you think he'd hate seeing me out of Arkham any less? But if he does show up, for his revenge or whatever cause I annoyed him, I'll let you know, kay?"

"Fine." He checked his watch and shot a glare at in the general direction of the business district.

"Big day tomorrow?" Steph asked, a little more cheer in her voice. It wasn't fair to blame Tim for something he'd had no part in, something he didn't have a clue about, because the truth was, none of them had seen Jason since he'd first gone missing from the Arkham infirmary, and if she hadn't either, she might've thought those things too.

"You have no idea, wish I could sleep in like you." He smiled tiredly and shook his head.

"Actually, I think I'm gonna go right to Leslie's clinic from here, she's more busy on Saturdays than anything." Steph powered on her bike and waved over her shoulder. "Seeya soon Red."

.

.

.

Jason bit down on two pieces of toast with a sharp hiss as Leslie applied more antiseptic to the raw scabs along his chest.

"Don't you have a super high pain tolerance or something?" Steph's tongue poked her cheek while she tried to apply the glitter glue to her poster as accurately as possible.

"High pain tolerance doesn't equal masochist." He shot back, turning to glare at her over his shoulder.

"Sit still." Leslie ordered, griping his elbow and forcibly pulling him back into position. "And it'll hurt a lot less. Of course it wouldn't hurt at all if you'd taken the sedative."

He didn't bother making a reply and Steph carefully moved her poster to the other side of the room where it could dry safely away from bloody bandages.

"Maybe if you're good Doc'll let you a have a lollipop." Steph chirped, cutting away at some of her left over cardboard.

"Does she have to be here?" Jason groused, just before wincing as Leslie peeled away the bandages on his arms, taking away a fair amount of scabbing as she did so.

"If she keeps sneaking you candy she won't be much longer." Leslie shot a pointed look at Steph's bag, which did in fact have a few packs of skittles hidden away for a poker rematch now that there were no reflective surfaces for Jason to cheat off.

"Hey." Steph shot a similar look at Jason. "You like having me around; you haven't told me to get out even once."

"Because I know you won't fucking listen and my words are precious." He dutifully held up his arm for Leslie to wrap the fresh bandages around his cleaned scrapes.

Steph winced, glad not for the first time that the Doctor hadn't pressured her much harder for answers than she would any of her usual patients. She suspected it was less out of respect for their privacy than because she'd pulled enough leather fragments out of the wounds the first time she'd cleaned them to have a pretty good idea.

"Heh, precious." She chuckled, earning her a long suffering sigh and an eye roll from the guy who had half the Gotham underworld scared shitless.

A few triangles of cardboard dropped to the floor and Steph taped up the edges of a crown, making sure not to look up when Leslie started on the Jason's hands, when it came to those, Jason didn't so much as twitch in protest, going silent and still as a statue.

The cardboard crown was smeared with a faster drying glue stick and had half a tub of gold glitter dumped over it before she began arranging multi colored sequins over its surface.

Frantic screams for help and a slammed door made everyone in the room jump a little, with an order to stay put, Leslie rushed to the waiting room. In the few seconds the door was open, Steph got a look at the men, all wearing gang colors, carrying one of their own into the clinic.

"Wow, I hope that guy's okay." Steph dropped the crown onto the stand and watched the door herself.

"Shoulder wound, didn't hit an artery." Jason shrugged, reaching for antiseptic cream Leslie had dropped in her rush.

"So he will be okay?" Steph dusted some loose glitter off the crown.

"Unfortunately." He dipped his fingers into the cream, but a spasm had him knocking it off the bed before he could put it on his other hand.

"That's mean." She retrieved the cream before it could spill.

"Why?" Jason huffed, swinging his legs onto his bed. "He got hurt cause he stuck up some store and the clerk wasn't having it, now that sick kid isn't gonna get help cause the Doc'll spend hours fixing his mistake."

"Hold this." She set the crown on his head, shocking some light back into dimmed teal eyes. She washed her hands before lifting his off his knee and forcing herself to look at the ugly, self-inflicted wounds.

If Tim saw Jason the way he was then, rolling his eyes at the dumb crown, but unable to take it off his head without aggravating his open antiseptic covered palms, there was no way he'd think he was involved.

Tim could get them to stop looking for Jason, at least for a while, at least until he was a little better, and she trusted that Tim wouldn't tell the others where Jason was unless it was really necessary, not if she made him promise.

Jason yawned and slumped over into his pillows, while Steph got the bandages. His eyes slowly slid closed, and he was asleep, his breaths deep and even, but the time she tied off the fresh dressings.

She trusted Tim, but Jason trusted her, at least enough to stick around despite her connection to the people he was sure would toss him right back into the situation he'd just gotten out of.

Sliding into her chair she took in the mess she'd made of the room, little pieces of paper littering every surface, she'd even gotten a few globs of sticky glitter on most of the library books he'd left scattered on every horizontal surface but the floor.

Jason let out a huff and turned his head a bit more into his pillow, nudging the crown until it covered a portion of his face.

She leaned over, pillowing her head in the arms she'd folded on the mattress as she let out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and an amused snort. He trusted her enough to fall asleep with that thing on his head and a group of gangsters in the other room.

She'd know Tim for years, he was easy to trust, and Jason? Jason was mad that a guy who'd been shot got priority over a kid with a cough, he'd threatened to mail pieces of her to her mother and thrown ice cream at her and ignored her very presence for weeks. Jason wasn't easy to trust.

With a sigh, she pressed her head against his arm and slid her own scratchy eyes shut.

But she wanted to trust him, she really, really did.

In the end she didn't have to worry about whether or not to tell Tim at all. She fell asleep and the next thing she knew she was on the bed, tucked under the colorful blankets. All the glitter and clippings had been cleaned from the room, and the books were stacked neatly on the bedside stand, topped with three pieces of stiff paper the size of credit cards.

When she sat up to get a look at what was scrawled across the cards, the crown she'd made tumbled of her head and she only barely caught it before it could smash into the floor.

The cards all said the same thing, but each was decorated differently with an obscene amount of glitter.

'IOU'

Jason was gone.