Holy shit, I seriously just write four and a half pages?
Sorry this took so long, the internet is being a bitch and I couldn't look up a lot of the things I needed.
WARNING: this chapter has some slightly brutal descriptions. Those not ready for that or who don't approve; I suggest you stop reading this fic as of now, as it'll probably only get worse.
Robin's nimble fingers worked furiously at the small, custom-made keyboard. He was almost surprised his hands stayed so small and bony, what with all the work he made them do. His fingers should be as masculine as Kaldur by now.
Briefly entertained by the thought of Kaldur-fingers, he chuckled, but caught himself in the middle of it and stopped, discreetly looking over his shoulder.
All of them had been on edge since the Letters, with a capital L for stressing.
And who wouldn't? There was a goddamn killer out for their heads. Well, most likely. So far, it had been discriminating Artemis (Don't trust people, Robin, you know it's not worth it, they'll just take advantage of you, you should know that by now you stupid idiot), and -for some odd reason- going crazy on Kaldur's home. That one was still a mystery to even Robin, and he was an excellent crime-solver, thank you very much. In Artemis's case, it could have been out of hatred for her or her dad; god knew they had plenty of enemies from both good and bad sides, or it could have been made to help the league, granted that whoever had sent the letter thought she was an actual threat to their guild.
But sabotaging an entire underwater city? How did they even do that?
Aside from the bombs, of course. Yes, it didn't take long for Red Tornado to see the obvious remnants of powerful underwater bombs. Not to mention the bits and pieces of people floating around, burnt by the smoldering sea or pierced by the leftovers of the bombs, specifically designed to explode violently enough for someone to die from just the flying metal, or in some cases both. They'd counted 27 bodies, and that was excluding the ones who were buried under beautiful marble rubble or simply in too small pieces to be counted. Around 60 had gotten away, managed to swim for it or conveniently been away at the time. The creepy thing was, it probably wasn't luck; those bombs weren't meant to annihilate everyone, just destroy and kill as much as needed. If this person wanted to kill them all, he would have.
Kaldur hadn't been the same after, and of course he wouldn't. That was his home; those were his family. Merpeople's bonds were very strong.
The biggest question remained; why? Why would someone go directly for Kaldur like that? Robin had suggested a race problem, appalling M'gann who still didn't have a clear concept of human tendencies.
Maybe it was an enemy that seriously had it in for them? He couldn't think of anyone as powerful as this as of yet. No one rich and insane enough was that creepy, and no one that creepy and insane was rich enough.
Both were insane, though. Definitely insane.
Robin almost felt bad about thinking it, but he couldn't help but deem himself pretty safe from this Mr. Letters. He, himself, had no secrets to hide, except for maybe his identity, and revealing that really had no purpose. And were someone to go after Bruce, who was pretty much his only family, or Alfred, who was like Bruce's father? Robin pitied them if they thought they could get away with something like messing with the Bat-family.
And his teammates, who were really his only friends, were under a very strict surveillance from everyone in the Justice League. They kept their Coms on at all times, and never left the house unless everyone was aware of it.
A slight ding -a custom tune, of course- sounded from the precise speakers of his laptop, waking him from his ponderings. One new e-mail acquired.
Robin opened it without hesitation, wondering what it was about. Batman usually contacted him through his holo-watch, so probably not him. Wally, maybe? That idiot kept sending him videos and pictures he found on the internet. He was almost as bad as M'gann, who kept sending him pictures of cute kittens or ducklings. Robin always felt kind of bad for not answering, but the girl honestly did not get the message.
The screen went blank for a short millisecond before showing Robin's inbox.
…Odd, he was unfamiliar with the address.
…And he had a special filter that only allowed his personal contacts to message him directly.
Robin's heartbeat paced a little as he moved his cursor over the e-mail, entitled ':blank:', and clicked.
Sender: unknown
Subject: none
Message:
check your backdoor
Oh hell to the no.
Robin sprinted outside right away, his panic driving him to move his legs too fast for his body, too fast for him to comprehend; he tripped in the hallway and fell face first on the floor.
Oh, who am I kidding?
He tripped, did a backflip and rolled into a graceful stop. It was Robin after all.
I shouldn't rush. What if it's a trap? Calm, Robin, calm.
He got up and strolled casually -maybe a bit too casually- the rest of the hallway. The backdoor….there were at least six or seven entrances to the mountain, and it was a goddamn mountain for heaven's sake; it was round. There was no backside.
Dude, meet me out back!
What out back? Wally, there are so many entrances to this mountain M'gann had a hard time counting. Just tell me what number.
No, you know, out back, like…that door that lies to practically nowhere and has no scenery? That's the back from now on.
It was possible, but how? How would this guy know that? There was no way. No way whatsoever. He wouldn't even waste his time by checking.
Out back is was.
Upon arriving at the door, Robin could easily justify Wally's dubbing. This door would definitely qualify for a back door, it was only there because a fire exits was required for each section, for obvious security reasons, but it hadn't been used even once. That was also the reason there was only a very rickety old ladder going way down the mountainside.
See? There was no way he could have known.
Robin let the gentle sea breeze rake through his hair, whip the short and precise tangles around and mess up his normally very gelled 'do.
When he moved to close the door, he saw a letter stuck to it.
No. Fucking no! How the hell would he even manage this?
Robin furiously tore the letter off and intended to tear it open just as furiously, but ended up carefully and warily opening it. Whatever was in there was bad news, but what could have happened? If someone in the team had been attacked, he'd heard of it by now.
Inside the envelope was, predictably, a letter.
Birds of a feather flock together
The screaming makes your hair curl
Jokers and Jacks will travel in packs
So keep an eye on your girl
Girl? What girl? Robin's computer-like mind scanned every female he knew. Artemis; safe in the Justice League headquarters, possibly at Green Arrow's place. Unlikely.
M'gann; outside with Connor for a ride on his pet/bike/companion. Superboy would rather kill himself than let anything happen to her. Impossible.
Wally's mom; protected by Barry. Impossible for same reasons as above.
Was there anyone else? Robin didn't think so. He breathed a sigh of relief; only to have it hitch in his throat as an uncomfortable sensation seized his stomach.
Zatanna.
ZATANNA.
His exterior mask slipped, as in the facial trained one, not the actual mask covering his eyes, and he ran right back down the hallway, his mind already on the giant screens of the communication room.
When he finally arrived after what seems to be way too long, his fingers itched to start typing the code needed to contact the Zatara residence. Yes, Robin wasn't meant to know how to contact them because hey, secret identities and all, but he was the protégé of the goddamn Batman, of course he knew everything about everyone.
The screen flickered to life, blinking like a drowsy infant, and Robin started a video-call right away. Even if Robin couldn't see anything on it as of yet (the thing was being unusually slow, but no time to think about that), he could hear someone on the other end.
"Zatanna? Is that you? Listen, I think you might be in trouble, you know the…" Robin drifted off, peering at the screen some more. Still there was no response from the other participant's webcam, but he could definitely hear someone….huffing. Muttering something incoherent, but in a male voice. And whimpering, and-
A blood-curdling scream resounded from the speakers, shaking Robin to his very bones. That was Zatanna's voice.
And the screaming didn't stop; it just kept on, and on, sometimes interrupted with pleading, begging, and whimpers of pain when something big and hard struck her, again and again, without mercy. The whump of skin and muscle being beaten sounded in rhythm with grunts and choked sobs, and an occasional squelch of fluids, vomit or blood, or both.
Robin had lived through some intense things. He was probably more scarred mentally than physically, and that was saying something.
But he'd rather let himself get frozen through by Captain Cold than to hear this.
He startled at the unfamiliar touch of a hand on his shoulder, having completely lost himself to panicked thoughts. His trained ears could hear that this was probably a recording, judging from the relentlessness of the sounds that were now dying down; the screams had subsided, leaving only the whacks still raining down on a lifeless body.
He turned around a bit too fast, sending the hand swiveling to the side to land on the owner's side.
"Dude, what the fuck was that?" Robin's mind vaguely registered the short-but-somehow-still-wild red hair and freckles of Wally, as well as the obvious what-the-fuckness in his eyes. M'gann was hovering on his side, eyes wide in horror. "I heard someone scream, and then when I was going to come down here I sensed a lot of fear and bad emotions and then you wouldn't answer, even when Wally talked to you, but Robin what happened?"
Oh shit what the hell am I doing spacing out like that no M'gann not right now and you too Wally please shut up I shouldn't be here I have to go!
Robin thought those things, but all that came out was "Batman. Shit, I need to talk to the Justice League."
Not ten minutes later, Robin was in the Bioship, on his way to the Zatara house, despite all rules of no contact in RL. This was an exception.
Apparently, Zatara was away on a personal mission, one he was very discreet about, and Zatanna had been left alone in her house for the day.
Batman had warned him not to come. He told them to 'stay put', like always, because frankly what they would see would undoubtedly be bad. But Robin felt that strange urge to go anyway, because the letter was for him and therefore was very much so his business. So he, Connor, Wally, Kaldur and M'gann went behind the League's backs for the umpteenth time.
The house was a mess. Robin could deduct the interior decorating from what he'd seen of the Zatara's personalities; very prim and proper, everything in its place, but also a lot of things with no practical use, such as wind chimes, paintings or statues.
Now, it was mainly just mess. Obviously some serious fight had gone on, most likely involving Zatanna's magic, if the flung sofa and a random kitchen counter, placed awkwardly on the middle of the floor.
And there, on top of the stairs, a heap of tangled, black hair and velvet pajamas, as it was meant to be the center of attention. Blood practically was rivuleting down the steps, curling and dripping like obscene finger-painting, contrasting bizarrely with the white marble. How was there even that much blood?
He made a move to go to her, shake her awake, maybe reveal that this was just one of her magic clones and not really the only girl to ever catch his eye, but something held him back.
Did he want to see? Did he want to ruin the hope of this being an illusion and face the truth that his almost-friend was dead?
"Robin, you do not have to go up there if you fear you cannot handle it. Batman will be here soon, I am certain he will take care of things…"
And that sent Robin running up the stairs. If he didn't see it for himself, he would never be able to grasp the concept.
Big mistake.
Robin gasped audibly as he got to the top, seeing the mess of a dead girl face-down on the floor, arms awkwardly down by her sides, like she had put up no fight while being placed there - or had already been dead in the process. A trail of sickening red lead into one of the rooms by the corridor on the left, a few bloody handprints on the wall, much too big to be hers.
Robin spun her around to check for a pulse, even if he knew there was no way someone who'd lost that much blood was alive.
This time, the gasp turned into a scream.
Her face…the face Robin had thought of one more than one occasion, the one he liked quite a lot and could definitely consider seeing more… it was mutilated.
Her mouth hung open, revealing nothing but bloody gums and the few teeth that were left, once so amazingly white but now stained orange with blood. Her nose wasn't even there anymore. There was just a bulge of broken bones, smashed cartilage and meat. Someone had beaten her face in until it was unrecognizable, to a point where her left eye wasn't visible behind the purple and black, puffy eyelid, and the right one had rolled back into the corner of her eye, displaying mostly the white and the blotted red of veins.
There was nothing right about her anymore. Her eyes were wrong, her nose were wrong, her lips were wrong, the gnarled, twisted fingers were wrong in all the wrong ways, and her hip jutted out where it shouldn't.
Robin, the son of Batman, a superhero but still just a kid, fainted.
He would have dropped down the stairs had Aqualad, who had followed Robin after he took off, not caught him in the nick of time. The force needed to grab Robin by the cape, however, jolted the mangled corpse into falling down the stairs, a dull, lifeless thump sounding in each stop.
It landed right in front of Wally and Connor, who had stayed downstairs, with M'gann still in the bioship (she didn't trust herself to come in, and Connor had glared so ferociously at everyone, warning them to not dare to urge her otherwise. Not that they ever would have), landing on the back with the remains of her face turned towards them.
Wally let out a choked exhale, stabling himself on an overturned table before running outside to throw up.
Connor stared, unable to tear away from the horrific sight before him, like his eyes were stuck in a spiderweb and couldn't break free.
Eventually, as his mind caught up with him, he was suddenly struck with utter terror, somehow expecting the body to run at him or scream or somehow do something corpses should not do. He stumbled backwards into the open living room, tripping on a chair and falling flat on his ass.
On his left, he noticed, were shoes.
Shoes that did not belong there.
And, following the shoes, there were legs, a torso, arms, and a not-so familiar, painted face that jerked him into a fighting stance nonetheless.
"Aqualad! Wally!" Connor called out, not daring to look away from the Joker for one second. The Joker did however seem oddly…docile. As if he didn't realize where he was. He didn't even look at Connor, only stared at the floor between his feet, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees.
Wally was at his side in a second, screeching to a halt when he saw the fiend. Aqualad came soon as well, carrying Robin the best he could.
At that moment, the Justice League members rushed in, startled when they saw the kids, then rushed again as they saw the Joker. Flash stepped in front of his nephew and his team protectively, while Batman almost snatched Robin from Aqualad, who knew better than to object. Batman was a scary man at best, but now he looked positively frightening.
Batman stared at the Joker for a while, going way above his usual bat-glare. He turned to Martian Manhunter and held Robin out. "Take. Care. Of him." No more words were needed for the green man, and he quickly took the boy outside, trying to wake his mind.
When they were gone, Batman turned to the Joker once again, ignoring Flash's warning 'Bats'.
"What did you do." When there was no answer, he tried again, louder. "WHAT. DID. YOU. DO TO THEM?" Wally jumped and squeaked, not at all used to the brooding bat even raising his voice, never mind roar like that, and even Connor flinched.
The Joker, however, just lazily looked up with glazed eyes.
"Didn't touch your boy, Batsie. The girl, that was my work."
He aid it with such utter apathy, every single person in the room was close to jumping at him, intentions definitely not of the good kind, but were stopped as he spoke again."You can take me to jail if you want. Hell, I want to go to jail; I'd kiss alla your boots if that's what it takes to get me to Arkham." His speech was slurred, suggesting he was either drugged or had some severe head trauma. Either way, it was a little scary.
"He told me to. That man with the letters and the poems. Told me to kill her, told me to use her father's own walking stick instead of just a gun." When he got no response, he sighed irritably. "I confessed, right? Hurry up and get me to prison."
"Why are you giving up just like that?" Green Lantern asked, trying to keep his voice below shouting lever but only just managing it.
The Joker looked them all in the eye, stopping on Batman. He didn't look at Green Lantern, but instead stared intently into Batman's eyes as he answered.
"Because whatever you schmucks do to me, it'll only be half of what the man with the letterswill."
This was such a bother to write. I kept accidentally switching to present tense, and unconsciously sneaking in jokes and light descriptions.
Anyway, dun dun dun, the dark darkens.