Chapter 3 – Red as blood

When Damian had arrived in his father's life, he had been full of pride and of the absolute certitude he would be offered his rightful place soon. Why would he not? It was just a matter of proving his worth – there was no doubt he was worthy. Wasn't he of his blood? Wasn't he the best fighter of the league, except for his mother and grand-father? Well, and maybe a few others. But still, way above anyone else his age.

The realization that what Damian had been taught to be valor differed from his father definition of the term had hurt hard. However, Grayson's and Todd's advices had not seemed difficult to follow and, after all, Damian was perfect. Of course he would manage to adapt, even if it meant following a set of stupid rules.

Now, however…

"I'm telling you I'm fine", Grayson was arguing.

Batman didn't even look up from the screen.

"You are not patrolling as long as your shoulder isn't healed."

"It is!"

"Alfred?"

"I'm afraid you might benefit from a few more days of rest, Master Richard."

Grayson glared at the butler, because of the lack of support or the use of his full name, Damian wasn't sure. Either way, he stepped in.

"Don't act like a child. There is no shame in resting", he added, in an effort to soften his intervention.

"I'm not to be ordered around!" Grayson pouted.

This time, Batman did look up, frowning. He didn't say a word but his glare was enough to make Grayson wince.

"I didn't mean it like that. I know the limit of my abilities, Bruce, I don't need you to mother me."

"All the members of this family are well known not to overwork themselves."

Batman's dry sense of humor didn't make anyone laugh. Even Damian didn't feel like he had any right to smirk: it was his fault if Grayson had been hurt. They were lucky the bullet had touched his shoulder, not his heart.

"It's been a month, Bruce, we can't afford to have only you on patrol…"

"Robin accompanies me."

"And what if you find him?"

"Then he will call in Batgirl while I come back to the Cave on my own", Damian intervened again, keeping his tone haughty as if bored. "I assure you I know the way by heart."

They looked at him, Batman wondering, Grayson stunned. Then they both frowned and resumed their conversation, ignoring him. Damian pointedly did not grit his teeth: he had been behaving since Halloween and intended to continue.

"We could ask Jason…" Grayson started.

"Jason is doing fine in Metropolis. I am not dragging him back into this."

Grayson looked at Batman. Who ignored him. Unfortunately, he took that as an invitation to voice his concern.

"You trust Luthor, now?"

"Jason handles him well. And Luthor seems willing to protect Jason from everyone else. He is efficient."

"You trust Luthor."

"To be efficient? Yes."

Grayson's frustration was starting to show. Not that he was ever good at hiding his emotions. Damian decided he had had enough and put a hand on his arm. The touch was remarkable enough to get his full attention this time.

"You are not getting out as long as you are not healed", Damian stated. "We do not need to drag a dead weight around", he added, for good measure.

Grayson blinked at him, then smiled.

"You are worrying over me."

Damian tutted.

"I am not. I am merely concerned with your lack of performance, which would put us all in danger if you come along."

"Because you will have to cover me."

Damian cast him an annoyed look.

"Obviously."

Then he had to back off because Grayson was trying to hug him.

"We actually do need someone to work on the investigation, actually", Batman said, removing his cowl to look at them directly. "The current situation is… worrying."

Damian titled his head. Though there had been several hits wearing the Joker's signature, there had been no major mayhem since Halloween. Actually, the targets had mostly been mobsters, not even civilians. So what was he talking about?

"You're right", Grayson sighed, and why was everyone aware of something wrong but Damian? "I guess I will skip it tonight. Again."

"Make it the whole week. He is up to something."

Damian bit his lips. He would not ask. Asking for explanations was beneath him. But they should be providing them anyway!

"I could ask for Jason's help on that. He wouldn't have to leave Metropolis and he's always been imaginative."

"If you must."

Damian relaxed. He would be able to overhear their conversation since he'd bugged the Cave with his own devices. His father had stopped him – and nodded in approval. Apparently, being paranoid was one of those things Batman and the League approved.

Batman put his cowl back on.

"Do not hesitate to ask for assistance if needed", Grayson insisted.

"We won't need any. Robin?"

Damian straightened.

"Let's patrol."

sososo

Lex's hands gripped his hips with enough force for Jason to be sure he'd have ten perfect little bruises the next morning, and his teeth were closing on his shoulder, vicious. His cock, however, was. Not. Moving.

"Lex, for God's… nhh."

"Yes?" the businessman asked, conversationally.

"Stop playing."

Lex's deep laugh caressed his ear.

"You love it when I play."

Jason tried to move, pushing his elbows on the desk he was pinned on, but barely managed to arch – and Lex bit him on the throat, this time. Jason fought back a moan.

"So?"

"You're a sick old man, you know that right?"

"I'm not the one begging for more."

"I'm not beg… God!" Jason moaned as Lex thrust, just once. "Alright, alright, I'm begging, now please…"

Then the computer screen which was right before Jason's nose turned on. Dick was a gorgeous man but his face was not exactly something Jason wanted to see in a moment like this.

"Holy supervillain, Batman. Sorry, sorry, please call back later?"

"Hang the fuck up Grayson!"

"Or at least don't look so shocked", Lex commented, and Jason could see him arch an eyebrow. "I am quite sure you found yourself in such position at some point."

Dick blushed of all things to do in the world, and now, Lex was smirking, for sure.

"If Bruce isn't up to the task, please don't hesitate to join in…"

Jason narrowed his eyes and pushed on his elbows, getting Lex deeper and dragging a strangled noise out of him.

"Yes, do hesitate", Jason concluded. "We are very well on our own, don't we, Lex?"

"Right, see you later", Dick blabbed, finally shutting down the damn com.

Lex licked his previously bitten shoulder.

"Aren't we feeling possessive today?"

"I'm always possessive, you jerk. Now pray fuck me so I can call my gorgeous, off-limits brother."

"Pity."

Jason kicked Lex into the armchair and sat on him, riding him hard enough to make his point. Lex was soon past silly comments on his attitude and just gripped his hips to make him go quicker. At which point, of course, Jason stopped.

"You were saying?"

He just loved how Lex was able to look so damn dangerous, his eyes narrowed, exuding authority out every pore.

"Ride."

It sounded more like a demand than a plea, but well. Jason started riding again, slowly, rolling his hips in the precise rhythm Lex loved, his muscles aching deliciously with effort. It didn't take long for the criminal to spend himself inside Jason, with a groan. He didn't wait then to grab Jason's cock to help him finish.

Jason sighed with satisfaction.

"I'll have to shower before I can call him back."

"Please do. I'll be waiting here."

Jason got up, snorting.

"Tired already? That's what happens when old men take young lovers."

"Do you want to spend the week begging for release?"

"Promises, promises."

Jason closed the shower's door on himself before Lex could get creative. Better not to push him.

Also, having a shower next to his office was a good idea. Jason had no idea how often Lex used it before, but he certainly had proved its advantages since he had come into the picture. He washed quickly and grabbed another shirt and suit pants – they also always had fresh clothes at hand – before going back into the office.

Lex looked at him as if he wanted to go for it again. He had not moved, merely buttoned his pants; as often when they had sex at the office, he had not removed any other piece of clothing except for his tie. Jason had nothing against it. He also had nothing against Lex peeling his own clothes away – seeing Jason in a suit always made him hungry for it.

Well. Dick could wait a few more minutes, considering how rudely he had interrupted. Jason smirked – and got on his knees.

Ten minutes later, he was turning the com back on while Lex showered.

"So, what the big deal?" Jason asked.

"I'm really sorry about this…"

"Just don't do it again and be happy the brat wasn't with you."

Dick winced at that. Good.

"So?"

"I just wanted your input on something. The Joker is been acting out of character."

Jason glared.

"Do you realize it is actually 11PM and it's bed time for normal people who actually get up in the morning to go to work?"

Dick looked dubitative at this.

"Alright, spit."

"He's been targeting mobsters. Two warehouses, to get weapons as far as we know, but also several places where they just stocked drugs or money. He destroys them. Takes the money sometimes. Never resells the merchandise."

Jason frowned.

"He also took down some of the lieutenants", Dick continued. "They were the only specific targets. I mean, there have been collateral damages, but…"

"But he specifically killed highly ranked mobsters", Jason finished.

"Yes."

Jason drummed his fingers on the desk.

"It makes no sense. The Joker is much more organized than he pretends to be, but this, this feels like he's planning a takeover."

And why the hell would he do that? Gotham was his playground, not a place for business. The Joker had no business to do, he was not interested in it.

"So that's how you see it too", Dick sighed.

"It's impossible. And also too obvious", Jason pointed out. "I mean, if the Joker wanted to take over Gotham, he wouldn't advertise it so… would he?"

"Who are you kidding?" asked Lex's voice from behind him.

Jason turned. Lex was just stepping out of the bathroom, his suit pristine perfect as always. He was frowning.

"This is the Joker. If he wanted to take over Gotham, he would paint it on the roofs."

Jason tensed; on the screen, Dick looked grim.

Because the problem was, Lex was right.

sososo

The Joker was pouting. It was something he was very good at, with that mouth of his. He was also stamping his foot like a petulant child.

"Why should I attack Falcone again?" he asked. "He is boring."

"It's a distraction", Tim explained, while thinking they could use the money considering how quickly the Joker burned it.

The criminal slapped him gently.

"It's not what you're thinking."

"Well, having money is great", Tim admitted. "It allows us to have more toys."

"We could just rob a bank!" the Joker protested.

Tim grinned.

"Yes, but the mobsters are also a distraction. Besides, robbing banks is so déjà vu."

The pout slowly turned into a smirk.

"You evil child. Come here."

Tim left the desk and his numerous color pencil-written plans to settle on the Joker's lap. He breathed his smell, relaxing when his hands rested on the small of his back.

They had been busy lately, Tim coming up with big plans and the Joker glad to cause mayhem wherever he could. Playing cat and mouse with Batman was also funny, considering Batman kept expecting them to spin out of control.

Rightfully so, of course. Soon, the Bats will be distracted enough for the Joker to move to his real target and to have some fun.

A hand brushed Tim's belly, making him giggle.

"We should shower first", he said. "I feel all sweaty from the day."

"You're so fussy", the Joker complained, but followed him nonetheless to the bathroom.

Tim purred under the warm water, while the Joker's make up melted away. Green and red, mixed with the water. Hah…

(It felt good to be clean.)

"I should call you Jack", Tim said while they sprawled on the bed. "When you're like this. You're like another person, but still you."

"Like wearing a mask… A secret identity!" the Joker sniggered.

Tim smiled.

"Exactly."

sososo

Bruce's breath was visible in the cold air; winter was close. It wasn't snowing yet but the last two nights had been freezing. Soon, they will have to be even more careful, with icy water on the roofs and all the white making cover more difficult to find.

"What are we waiting for?" Robin asked at his side.

He had been behaving since Halloween, which was a relief. Moreover, not having Nightwing around all the time had forced them to work together, to solve their own issues. Bruce still felt at loss about what to do with the child sometimes, but they were getting closer to an actual partnership every night.

"Jim Gordon told me he would give me a copy of the ballistic report from James Manhill's murder", Bruce explained. "It was supposed to be done today."

Robin nodded. The real reason which pushed Bruce to come more often to the GCPD was that he hoped to have news about Harley Quinn's murder. The ballistic had revealed the gun had been the same as the one used on Halloween – as if the Joker had been the one pulling the trigger.

This was, however, pure conjecture. Maybe someone had grabbed the gun, maybe they had been fighting – but they, why dump the body in the river? Why naked? The gun hadn't popped up in any other murder since, had it ended up in the water as well?

And there had been no retribution. Nothing. Just this strange change of MO. It was still the Joker, though. He had not been on site for every raid but Batman had been, more often than not. A few times, he had spotted him and chased him – he had had to because the Joker never stayed to play. Unfortunately, even his escape routes had been carefully planned. Even his trackers had been crushed too quickly for him to follow.

Not once had the Joker called him names. No Basty, no darling.

Something had happened, and it had started with Harley Quinn's death – or shortly before, at Halloween, where she had not been present while she was actually out of Arkham. They needed to solve the case. Bruce was sure it was the key for more.

"I don't see him in the building", Robin suddenly said.

Bruce frowned. The child was looking at the GCPD through infrared binoculars. They couldn't possibly be precise enough for him to distinguish Jim from any other policeman.

"I mean, his office is empty. I have been looking at the window since we arrived, one hour ago, and I didn't see anyone getting out of it, so he must have left before that. It's too long for a pause or him just talking to someone. They are not on alert currently, are they?"

Bruce shook his head, frowning. The best way to check was to get closer. He dropped, grappling silently to get to the building. He had aimed the rooftop's border and made sure to land right next the window. It was closed but it had broken a few months before during a terrible raid organized by the Penguin, and it was easy enough to hear the conversations.

It took several minutes before anyone mentioned Jim.

"He isn't back yet?" asked Bullock's gravelly voice. "He said he had to go back home, he had forgotten his wallet, but he should have be back already."

"Maybe he stopped somewhere", someone said, maybe Alvarez; the voice was too muffled for Bruce to be sure. "He likes to wander in the city sometimes."

"Yeah, maybe."

Bruce frowned. Usually, he would have stopped at that, but they had specifically agreed to meet on the rooftop this evening. Jim knew his patrol started at 10. He also knew Batman often was too busy later in the night to come back to the GCPD for a chat.

He deactivated the grapple and glided back to the building across the street, where Robin had been waiting.

"So?"

Bruce activated his com. Dick answered quickly.

"Yes?"

"Is Batgirl online?"

"Not yet. She should be soon."

"Can you call her directly?"

"Just a sec. B., she isn't answering, has something happened?"

Bruce tensed at the news.

"Probably nothing. I'll still check the Gordon's house, just in case."

"Alright, keep me updated."

Bruce looked at Damian, who nodded: he had heard their conversation. They went toward the house, which was several blocks away, in a quiet neighborhood. Jim had chosen well when he had settled. Back then, freshly back in Gotham, he had had a pregnant wife and certainly had expected his family to expand even more.

"Take the window", Bruce ordered. "I'll be at the door."

Robin nodded and went around the house silently. Bruce waited for him to be in place, then went to the front door.

It had been forced. Bruce tensed.

"Robin?"

"I'm opening the window."

"Be careful, someone might already be there. The door was forced."

He pushed it, opening it slowly… Barbara laid on the ground, naked, surrounded by glass from the broken table, a bullet wound in the belly.

sososo

It was all the Joker's idea. Tim had provided with the distraction, the useful but boring stuff; the Joker had decided by himself what the main attraction would be. He had asked Tim if he would come, though, and Tim had said yes because he had to see.

He had been wearing his black suit and a clown mask, just a shadow among the other thugs. They all had been wearing masks, to hide him, like a tree in a forest. It was so easy.

Walking in had been easy too. Ringing at the familiar door, then break it open when Barbara had tried to close it. The Joker had fired at her, making Tim jump. It was… it was…

(Perfect.)

The commissioner had screamed, of course. The Joker had nodded at Tim, who had punched him unconscious while one of the thugs held him. It had felt – like a dream. Like being reborn.

He was there, alive, walking in this world.

(He. Was. There. Hello world!)

They had stripped Barbara naked and taken pictures. Tim had heard the Joker's breath grow short in front of the muscled, bloody body. That hadn't been part of the plan, but who were they to ever follow any plan?

Tim had ordered the thugs to take Gordon to the amusement park, telling them they would join them later.

Then the Joker had taken her, strong, beautiful Barbara. She had cried, not because it hurt but because she couldn't feel anything. Tim kept taking pictures, all vivid details of it. Snap, snap, all was in the box! Then she had fainted and stopped crying.

Tim had kissed the Joker's neck when he'd come.

Then Tim had cleaned any evidence out of her, and they had left for the amusement park. This had only been the starter.

Everything was ready when they arrived. The décor was grandiose, Tim had to admit. The Joker knew how to do things well.

He stepped in the shadows for what followed. This wasn't his part; only the Joker's. It was already a lot to see it – it was fascinating.

Dwarves in silly clothes stripped the commissioner naked just as he was waking up. There was no sex this time – thankfully, Jim Gordon being much too old for Tim's tastes, though, hey, he was fit for his age – and the prisoner was dragged to the Joker, waiting on his throne. There was a lot of talking, some threats on both sides, then he was sent into the ghost trail.

Tim knew what was inside because he had been the one taking the pictures, then picking them. They had been directly downloaded to a server connected to the ghost house. He had chosen which one to put in which slot while they had been driving back.

He had only put those of Barbara naked before the Joker had done anything to her. Those pictures were only for them.

(He should probably develop them later on. It really was a pity that he had had to work with a numeric camera, but there had been no time in their schedule for proper argentic one.)

Much later – much, much later, they had made it quite long – the commissioner got out of the ghost rail. He was crying. Apparently, it ran in the family!

(Yes, that was the tone.)

The Joker was talking again, making his show. He loved it. He really was a stage man, a performer.

(Like Dick.)

But then, Tim's cellphone beeped. He went to the Joker to whisper to his ear.

"He is coming. We should go."

"Aww, already? But it's only been three hours!"

Which fit Tim's estimation, within a margin of 5%. Tim smiled under his mask.

"He is quick like that."

"Oh, well. 'Afraid I have to go, my dear commissioner. We will see each other again soon, I'm sure!"

They left, leaving Jim Gordon's cage alone in the empty amusement park.

sososo

Damian felt sick in the stomach. He had not been sent back to the Cave, in the end: his father had preferred to keep him close rather than sending him away. Maybe because the Joker had finally been back in character. Maybe because he felt he should break habit. Maybe because there was no one at the Cave, since Nightwing was standing watch on Barbara Gordon at the hospital.

The point was, they had arrived together at the amusement park. They had found Commissioner Gordon together. And the pictures. All those pictures…

"Robin."

Damian looked up to his father, who put a hand on his shoulder.

"We're going home. The police are there, they will take care of Jim."

"What about him?"

"He left before we arrived."

Damian nodded dizzily. The Batmobile was parked in the middle of the grass. They drove back to the Cave in Gotham's night, lights blurring into one straight line.

Todd was waiting for them.

"Where is he?" he asked straightaway.

It was hard to see when Batman frowned, but he usually set his jaw at the same time, which was much more visible even in the cowl.

"Gone."

"And what are you doing to stop him?"

"Not now, Jason."

"He got Babs!" Jason yelled. "She might never walk again, do you realize that? She might…"

"Jason, enough."

Damian straightened instantly even though the reprieve wasn't aimed at him. Apparently, this was part of being a Robin and never went away because so did Jason.

"We will stop him", Bruce continued quietly. "Just not tonight. Go to the hospital. Talk to her. She will need friends."

Something broke in Jason's expression.

"She might never walk again."

This situation shouldn't be handled by them, Damian decided. Where was Luthor when one needed him?

"Where is Lex?" his father asked, reaching the same conclusion.

"Upstairs."

Now, even with the cowl, it was easy to see Batman was angry. He however mastered his tone when asking:

"You invited Lex Luthor to my house?"

"I didn't let him downstairs, I'm not crazy. It's just… He wouldn't let me come by myself, and I was not going to stay in Metropolis."

Batman sighed.

"Go to the hospital. Dick is there. Send him back here so he can sleep for three or four hours. I'll take the morning shift."

Jason looked at him, then nodded silently and headed back upstairs. Damian didn't really know what to say. Barbara had always been a reliable ally, usually friendly. She wasn't entirely part of the family, but she was… a friend?

"What can I do?" he asked his father.

Batman removed his cowl. His face was visibly tired. He put a hand on Damian's head.

"Just be there", he said, then he added. "Just be safe."

sososo

They finished the night at the flat. Tim removed jacket to put one of the Joker's instead and put on some music. He had a disk made at his request, with depressing love songs. It started with a frenetic waltz, so they danced. They danced, because they were happy, and the music was beautiful and creepy.

Tim smiled, his cheek against the Joker's shoulder, his body in the Joker's hands, his nose smelling the Joker's scent. He was only safe when he was with him.

The night was perfect.

No, not perfect – special.

The Joker felt it too. He invited him to dance again, then again, until they started laughing and couldn't dance anymore. Then he looked at Tim, in his pristine dark suit, with his big shadowed eyes and his purple jacket, and he grinned.

"Sit down at the dressing table. Come on, my dear."

Tim didn't dare to hope. He went and sat, straight, wondering if maybe… and yes: the Joker took his own make up and sat next to him.

"You helped me a lot, tonight and all previous nights", he said, opening up the whites and reds. "It is time you get your rightful place. Isn't it?"

Tim nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

The Joker talked while he put make up on him. It was a lesson of art; a creation.

"You decide who you are, when you wear a mask", he explained. "Then, it becomes your face, you see? Or you become the mask, I always have those backwards. And there is nothing more, just that new face of yours, that you choose for yourself."

"Like Batman?" Tim dared to ask.

The Joker giggled.

"Exactly like Batman. Or Robin."

"Or you", Tim said.

The Joker kissed him, then started dyeing his hair. It felt so good, to feel his strong hands working on him, making him anew. It was like being born. It was like being given a name.

And it was so easy! As easy as to grab a gun silently. As easy as to have had it ready all along. As easy as to pull the trigger, blood splashing everywhere from the Joker's chest.

"Oh, my boy", the Joker coughed. "Really?"

Tim smiled tenderly.

"There can only be one, can't it?"

The Joker laughed, or tried to. His legs failed him and he had to sit on the bed. Tim trembled, with joy and despair, because he would always be safe now, because this was the punch line. Because he would lose Jack.

"One last kiss?" the Joker asked.

"One last", Tim agreed.

They kissed, and there was blood in the Joker's mouth, and he coughed. Giving birth hurt.

"Bye, bye, my love", Jack said.

"Flatterer."

Except it wasn't a lie. They did love each other. Tim would miss him horribly. It hurt – but being born was supposed to hurt. Wasn't it?

(Wasn't it?)

The Joker slipped on the ground, his back against the bed. The disk was back at the beginning, which was fitting. The music waltzed around the room, quick, like the Joker's breath wasn't anymore, beating where his heart slowed, and one-two-three, c'est l'amour qui vous larme, vous laisse sans armes, nu comme un oiseau blessé qui qui tombe et reste seul face à la mort.

Then the music fell silent. The entire flat – was perfectly silent. Tim's breath was the only one remaining – no. No. The Joker's breath was the only one remaining, while Jack's corpse was on the ground.

The Joker grinned. He had a lot to plan. He had to go back to the warehouse and call for the boys, because they had a lot to do.

He took his hat, his gloves – a little too big, really, he should find himself another tailor – and left. He made sure to also wear his coat and scarfs: outside, it was starting to snow.

sososo sososo

Ending notes:

Alright so this was the Killing Joke :) It happened much sooner in the comics, right after Jason died. I feel like the Joker had other things to do here, so that is was only natural it would happen later - and differently.
For those who didn't figure it out, Tim was the narrator since the beginning. There has been no intervention of the narrator in True Love because he was already there.

Please let me know if you like it! You have no idea how stressed I am right now, about to post this.