Hey y'all! School started. I'm a busy college student...I'M SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SUCH A SLACKER AND I DIDN'T HAVE TO BE BECAUSE TYPED THIS CHAPTER LIKE 4 MONTHS AGO AND DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS IN MY ARCHIVES I'M SUCH A TERRIBLE PERSON AND I'M SO SORRY. FEEL FREE TO FLAME ME, I DESERVE IT SO MUCH!

serioulsy...really sorry. I won't keep you waiting anymore

Chapter 7

One month after my resurrection and rigorous training with Dick, Tim, Damian, and Bruce, I was beginning to see a change in my muscle tone. It was small, but I could see improvement. My treadmill time increased slowly. I was still working with the 30 pound dumb bell, and I still couldn't hold my own against Dick. Or Tim. Or Damian. I was getting stronger, but I wasn't strong enough. Bruce and Alfred had completely taken over my diet. All protein, vitamins, and calcium. There was absolutely no junk food in there. No bread. No chips. No soda. No Alfred's cookies. It was horrible. No one brought up anything about my plans or my past. I was surprised Bruce hadn't said anything….

Dick and Bruce got the brilliant idea that I needed to race with Tim, Dick, and Damian to assess my stamina and build strength in my legs. I thought it was stupid, but since they had taken over every aspect of my re-training, I had to do it. We lined up at the race track at the horse stable down the road. Bruce had given the entire staff orders to stay away from the race track. No one could know I was back. I lined up with the boys and we took off. I kept up with them for a little while before I gave out of breath. I couldn't even run a simple race all the way to the end. Dick won, followed by Damian and Tim. I had to walk the rest of the way…It was humiliating. Damian and Tim made fun of me, which was expected, Dick and Bruce recorded every little detail, with Bruce giving me a look of dissatisfaction.

Two months in, I had graduated to the 50 pound dumb bell. I could run 7 minutes on the tread mill, and the spars were getting longer. I could hold up against Dick for a few minutes before he overpowered me. Same with the others. I didn't even try to go against Bruce, but I was stubborn enough to think I could beat the other two…I was wrong. I still got winded easily, and I still couldn't even come in third during the races. My abs were beginning to come back, though, and my left arm was slowly getting bigger. I was still annoyed about my strict diet, but I kept it up.

Three months in, I could lift the 75 pound dumb bell with my left arm. I still couldn't beat the boys at a spar or a race, but I could run longer and faster on the treadmill. My weight increased as I gained muscle, which probably had something to do with the strict diet I was on and the disgusting bug gut shake I was made to drink every morning. I wasn't getting winded as easily, but I still couldn't run for very long; ten minutes had been my record. Thus far, I was 136 pounds of pure brawn. I used to be a lot heavier…

Four months, and there was a significant difference in muscle tone. Alfred had taken pictures of my body each week to compare with from the previous weeks. I could run minutes on the treadmill with normal vitals. I could hold my own against Dick for about five minutes before he overpowered me again. I could hold out a little longer with Tim, but Damian was an ass. He beat me quickly and unmercifully. Bruce watched us and he recorded my training. By then, I had started lifting. I started out at 100 pounds. It was so frustrating. I used to be able to bench 250.

Five months in, I was using a 100 pound dumb bell. I could sprint for ten minutes on the treadmill, but I was still only benching 100. I started trying one handed pushups on my left arm, but I could only do about 10 before I had to stop. Bruce said it was a good start, but I ignored him. I knew I could do more. Dick and I were getting evenly matched, but he could still beat me fairly easily. Tim and Damian were the same. By then I was getting used to my diet of meat and vegetables and bug guts every day. I really missed bread and soda and Alfred's cookies, but I knew it was a small price to pay to get my body back. I swear, the others were still taunting me with it though, eating in front of me, leaving their sodas all over the house. If I didn't know better, I'd say Alfred was spying on me to see if I'd break the diet. I proved him wrong time after time.

By the sixth month, I was beginning to get discouraged. I still couldn't beat any of them in a fair spar and I had only moved up 50 pounds on the bench press. The treadmill wasn't a problem anymore. My left arm was still way smaller than my right because as I trained, my right arm was gaining muscle too. My legs were stronger, and my abs were almost all the way back. But the fact that I couldn't win in a spar just pissed me off.

It was at the end of almost seven months when I hit a breakthrough. I was sparring with Dick, we had been going for close to 30 minutes with Tim, Damian, Bruce, and Alfred watching from the sidelines. Dick sent my bo staff flying from my hand. We were both sweating and breathing hard by that time, (I was more so) but I was so fucking sick of losing every single spar for the past seven months, I just wasn't ready to give up. He held his staff at my throat. I yelled as I pushed it aside and tackled him. He dropped his staff and we went into a full on wrestling match. We threw punches and kicked each other forcefully. I figured I had lost by that time, and I was so mad about it. Dick was stronger than me and I knew I would lose in a fight based on strength. We ended up a few feet away from each other for just a second to catch our breath before we went into it again. I maneuvered my way around him, jumping and flipping and kicking as best as I could. I was exhausted. Seven months on nonstop training will do that to you.

But I won.

I managed to get around behind Dick and on his back. He went down as I rammed my body into him from behind. He rolled over on his back as I straddled his torso. I sent a punch to his face and he rolled over on top of me. We continued to roll around on the floor until I ended up straddling his back. I moved quickly and bent his legs back to sit on his feet that were pressed against his butt. I pulled his hands behind his back and wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled his head up to me, effectively trapping his hands between his bare back and my bare chest. (We sparred without our shirts on because Alfred didn't want sweat stains on them, and because it was much easier without having something for our opponent to use against us.) I wasn't worried about hurting him-I knew he was flexible enough for this. He probably didn't feel anything, even though he was practically folded in thirds. He couldn't move-he tried-but he couldn't get out of my hold.

"Give up, you jackass! I'm not fucking going to lose this time!" I screamed at him.

"Alright." He gasped out. I hadn't realized I was choking him… "You win, Jay. Let me up."

I released my hold on his neck and got off him. He unfolded himself and stood up in front of me.

"I've never seen anything like that!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Let me just say," Dick said, "That scar feels horrible." He said as he rubbed the back of his hands where they had touched my autopsy scar. I looked down at the raised, bumpy flesh. It did look pretty gross, but I hadn't realized he had touched it…

"Sorry…" I mumbled. Dick slapped me on the back, creating a loud SMACK that echoed through the cave.

Tim walked up to us carrying two bottles of water. I took it dumbfounded.

"My turn." Damian said darkly as he extended a bo staff of his own and tossed me my own.

I nodded. For the past seven months, I hadn't gotten a break between the spars, and this was no exception. I tossed Dick my water bottle and faced off against Damian. I lost.

When Tim's time came, I lost to him too, but only barely.

"You've come along way, Jason." Bruce said. "I'm proud of you."

I froze at his words…he had never ever said that to me before. I looked at him wide eyed. He raised an eyebrow.

"Um…thanks…" I mumbled as I squirted more water down my throat.

Ten months after my resurrection, I could bench 200, run without pause for 30 minutes, I could beat Dick, Tim, and Damian at almost every spar. My arms looked to be the same size, my abs were beautiful, despite the hideous scars. For almost a year, I hadn't had anything to eat that wasn't approved by Bruce or Alfred. I was dying of junk food withdrawals. All I'd eaten was meat and vegetables. Baked or grilled, no fried, and all vegetables were raw. Something about boiling them taking away nutrition or something…anyway. It was awful. Alfred made me drink the bug gut protein shake every single morning and made me drink some disgusting green smoothie thing every night. He even stood there and watched me to make sure I drank it. Hell, I wasn't even allowed a soda not one time. The others didn't even take pity on me, and practically shoved it in my face. They ate bread with their meals and pigged out on Alfred's cookies. The smell of the cookies was heavenly, and watching the others eat them was torture. I was stuck eating a disgusting protein bar that tasted slightly better than cardboard. I wasn't even allowed to have sweet tea! I was only allowed to drink water, milk, and whatever concoction Alfred put in my smoothies and shakes. I hated it, but I accepted it. I didn't cheat on my diet, and I didn't complain about it too much.

But, one day, after I had sparred with the boys (I lost to Dick, but I beat Tim and Damian) I collapsed on the bench and leaned against the cave wall trying to catch my breath. I hadn't had a break in the past 3 hours, save for a glass of water between spars, and I was absolutely exhausted. The five men stood around me and talked about the progress I had been making.

"I can't wait to watch him spar with you, Father. I wonder how fast he'll go down."

"Master Jason is a formidable fighter, despite his condition. He holds his own well against you boys, I believe he would do the same with Master Bruce as well." Alfred commented.

"Ha! Bruce would beat the hell out of him in 30 seconds flat." Dick said with a chuckle.

Just like the Joker… I thought.

"It shall be so fun to watch. When it happens, I shall have a camera."

I didn't like that. They had no confidence in me. I knew I couldn't beat Bruce, but they didn't have to rub it in my face.

"Do it, Todd. You'll go down like a leaf." Damian said. That just pissed me off.

"He has gained strength and stamina, Master Damian, but I agree with Master Bruce. He isn't ready for that."

"It would still be funny to watch." Tim said lightly. I didn't take it lightly. I slammed my water bottle on the bench and stood up quickly; my exhaustion forgotten and replaced my rage.

"Let's go." I said to Bruce.

"No, Jason. You aren't ready." He said. I stopped and turned to him dangerously.

You wanna bet? I said to myself. I knew I was going to lose, but I didn't care. I rushed at Bruce, slamming all of my 210 pounds into his gut head on. He went down, completely caught off guard, and we rolled around on the cave floor. When we finally made it to our feet, it was officially on. Before I was murdered, I could hold my own against Bruce for a while. I had beat him a few times only because he let me, but more often than not, I lost.

No one bothered to stop me. They knew Bruce would be ok, and they knew he wouldn't hurt me too badly, so they moved out of our way and let us have at it. I wasn't worried about hurting Bruce, so I let him have it. I didn't think I was strong enough to actually hurt him. I had gained more muscle than I thought. I knew I was strong-very much so-but I knew Bruce was stronger. He hit me in the gut to get me off him, and I complied by rolling to the side. We went at it for 32 minutes before I gained the upper hand. I managed to get on his back and put him in a strong choke hold. He pulled at my arm but he couldn't get me off. I squeezed his neck as hard as I could. Bruce, in a last ditch effort to get me off, slammed his back into the wall, crushing me as he did so. But I wasn't about to let go.

"Damn it Bruce!" I yelled. He didn't respond. He did, however, fall backwards on top of me.

"Ahhh!" I yelled as I was crushed between the floor and his body. "You're going to kill me!" I yelled. My grip loosened ever so slightly.

"Not a chance, son. You don't seem to take to well to the grave…" He coughed out through my choke hold as he rolled over. I wrapped my legs as tightly as I could around his waist and held on as tightly as I could.

"Oh my God. Jason's winning!" Dick said from the sidelines.

"He's going to kill him!" Tim laughed. "He's going to kill the Batman!"

"Jason…let go, damn it!" Bruce choked out. He slammed me against the wall again, this time much harder. I screamed at the pain of being crushed for the third time that night. My grip loosened and Bruce managed to roll out of my hold. I slid to the floor, but pushed myself up quickly and narrowly avoided a swipe to the side of my head. I sent a kick to his rock hard stomach and got some wind out of him, but not enough to make it count. I rolled under his legs and got behind him kicking his ass as I got up. He turned around with frustration evident on his face. I grinned as we faced off again. We rushed at each other simultaneously and it eventually came down to who had the most stamina and strength.

In the end, I lost with Bruce sitting on my back and shoving my head into the floor.

But-we had gone on for about 25 minutes before I fell on my ass from Bruce swiping my feet out from under me. I still wouldn't give into my loss. I kept struggling in his hold.

"Tell me when you're done, Jason, and apologize for attacking me like that after I told you you weren't ready, and I'll let you up."

"Not my fault you don't have any faith in me! You deserved it!" I yelled from my hopeless position. I knew I wasn't gaining myself any points. Bruce kept pushing harder and harder on my head.

"Alright!" I yelled when I couldn't handle the pressure on my skull anymore, "I give! Let me up!"

"Sorry, did you have something to say?" Bruce asked as he let up ever so slightly.

"I'm not fucking apologizing for this! Let me up! You're fat ass is crushing me!"

I saw Dick's feet in front of my face and heard as the others surrounded us.

"Come on Jay, be humble." Dick chuckled.

"No! Let me up!"

"Todd, don't be stupid. You're whipped." Damian said from somewhere behind me. I bucked as best I could, but Bruce was just too heavy, and I couldn't get any leverage from my position. Bruce responded by pushing my head into the floor more.

"I am not whipped!"

I groaned as the pressure increased. He kept going…

"Ahhh! Stop!" I yelled. I lifted my foot and tried to kick him in the back, but there was no force behind it. I doubt he even felt anything.

"Come on, Jason. Just two little words… 'I'm sorry.' Then you'll be released." Bruce said lightly. I considered my options. I wasn't going to apologize, I was too prideful for that, and I felt justified in my attack. The only thing I could move was my left arm since my right arm was pinned to my side by Bruce's leg.

"No! Let. Me. Up!" I growled. I pulled my left elbow up to push myself up off the ground. I strained as I tried, but I knew that if I put my mind to it, I could get up. I wasn't going down groveling on the floor like that. I felt my head being pushed down as the left side of my body inched its way up slowly and shakily. "GET OFF!"

"Whoa! Get 'im Jay!" Tim yelled as they watched me struggle.

I yelled as I pushed.

This was no longer a wrestling match. That was over. This was now a test of strength. Everyone shouted encouragement to me as I tried to push myself up.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" Bruce didn't move as I pushed my way up slowly with my weak arm. I was getting there….If Bruce would just get his fat ass off and stop pushing on my head.

"Come on, Jason! You're almost there!" Dick encouraged.

"Tt. You chose this by attacking him, Todd." Damian said.

"LET GO OF MY FUCKING HEAD!" I screamed at Bruce as I pushed myself up halfway at arm's length. My arms were shaking uncontrollably. My head was off the ground, but Bruce was still pushing it down against my chest.

My arm was giving out, my whole body shook violently under the force. I couldn't get him off…I was too weak…I hated it so much.

"Come on, Master Jason."

"Don't give up, Todd!" Damian yelled.

"I…I can't do it…" I said. I felt my body going down, my arm giving out quickly…

Before, I would have been able to do this…but I couldn't. Not now.

"Yes, you can, Jay." Dick said sternly. There was no room in his voice for an argument.

But I did anyway. "No, I can't…" My lungs and arm were burning with all the fire of hell. I couldn't breathe…I couldn't win…

"Think of the Joker, Jason." Bruce said gently.

The Joker…this was all his fault. He killed me. He killed my mother!

I lost all sense of my mind, and was solely determined to get Bruce off of me. He was the enemy now. He was the Joker.

"GET THE FUCKING HELL OFF OF ME YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" I screamed. I pushed all the way up with a strength I never imagined I would have. I finally managed to use my right arm along with my left.

I pulled my knees forward and pushed the heavy bastard off of me. I pushed myself out from under him and turned on my heel and kicked him as hard as I could. Bruce fell backward holding his jaw. I stood over him with my fists clenched and ready to attack again, breathing like an overworked dog in the summer. Sweat poured down my face and neck. My hair was glued to my forehead with sweat. Bruce looked up at me from the ground. All was silent, save for the small splats as my sweat fell and hit the floor.

"Way to go, Jason." He said with a smile.

I was glomped by Dick and thrown off balance. I smirked as I watched Tim help Alfred help Bruce up. Tim and Damian stood with huge grins on their faces and Bruce was smiling too.

"You beat him! You just beat Batman in a wrestling match!" Dick yelled at me in sheer excitement as he slapped me hard on the back.

"You're back!" Tim yelled in my face.

I turned on my heel and walked away. "I guess you're right." I said definitely.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm done training."

"What?" Alfred called after me, "You can't be serious, Master Jason. You've come so far. Why stop now?"

I turned to face them. "I made it, Al. I am so done with all of this, and your stupid diet. I'm going to go eat a fucking pound of your cookies, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it." I said seriously. I turned on my heel toward the stairs that led up to the mansion.

Jason motherfucking Todd was back.

There was a chorus of laughter behind me as I made my way to the stairs.

"I'm so with him." Tim said as he raced up to me followed by Dick and Damian. They raced past me.

Oh, no you don't.

I took off after them and caught up with them as we all tried to fit up the staircase at the same time.

"Move it, you idiots!" I yelled as I tried to push between Damian and Dick.

"I call the first one!" Tim shouted.

"You motherfuckers aren't getting any! It's been like…two years since I've had one! Back off!" Dick and I managed to get past, and we wrestled each other up the stairs. Damian and Tim joined in. We pushed and shoved and pulled each other back in attempts to be the first up the stairs. There were shouts and laughter among us.

I realized then, that if I had a say in it, I wouldn't have changed a thing. I knew I was probably going to die again very soon, but in that moment, I didn't care. I was just happy with my family.

Even if we were fighting our way up the stairs for cookies.

please review...I'm sorry about this, y'all. i'm a terrible person. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm working on chapters. I promise. I'm trying. I'm just super busy. I love you wonderful ppl for sticking with me and commenting on this story. any ideas, suggestions, or comments or concerns? Just leave a review or PM me. Love you.

Smile at a stranger and have a great day.