Dick couldn't believe it.
The cure was due today, and the freaking warehouse was empty. Joker seemingly just got up and left, taking his comrades and only hope of saving their lives with him. The once colorfully decorated and prisoner ready room was now empty. Only the daunting grins and painted on "HA"s remained to prove there ever was a Joker here.
He reached up and touched his comm. to call Tim. What else could he do?
But it appeared Tim beat him to it.
"Dick!" he shouted into Nightwing's ear. The elder almost cringed at the volume of Tim's voice, but remained still. "Dick, don't go into that warehouse!"
Nightwing sighed, taking another sad glance around the empty building. "Too late." He murmured. "It doesn't matter though. The stupid place is empty."
He could've sworn that sound was Tim sighing in relief. "Good." He said excitedly. "Wally and I found the cure. We need to meet up." Tim paused for a moment before saying, "Stay in the warehouse. We're on our way."
Then, without waiting for a reply, he hung up.
********************************LINE BREAKER!********************************
Tim clung to Wally's neck, the yellow fabric creasing around his gloved fingers. He didn't understand how Dick used to do this with the speedster when he was still able to fit on Wally's back. The wind rushing through your face was horribly unpleasant and it made his eyes tear up even through the mask. Besides, it's not like Wally has the best footing or grip. The two could tumble to their super speed death any minute now.
But there were no Zeta tubes for just getting across Gotham, and Wally was faster than Tim's bike.
Soon the speedster was skidding to a rocky halt and Tim was climbing off his back and jogging uneasily towards the door. Tucked away safely in a padded compartment in his utility belt was a small vile filled to the brim with freshly made yellow liquid. Tim hadn't planned on commenting on the eerily similar appearance it held to urine until Wally very loudly, and very immaturely, said, "Ew! That looks like piss."
The latest Robin burst through the door of the abandoned warehouse to find that it was, in fact, abandoned. Nightwing sat on the floor near the back door holding a small piece of paper in his hands. He had angrily crumpled it and then uncrumpled it, and now sat staring at it.
"What's that?" Tim asked as he raced towards his brother.
Dick looked up at him with grateful eyes. "Do you have it?" He asked. He stood from his position and grabbed Tim's shoulders firmly. "Did you guys really figure it out?"
"Yeah," Tim said quietly. He pulled the cure out from his utility belt and held it in front of Nightwing's masked eyes, displaying it proudly for the world to see.
Dick pulled his little brother into a hug, laughing happily into his shoulder. This action honestly surprised Tim. Despite how used to working with Nightwing he was – and how much he knew that Dick Grayson was most definitely a hugger – he was more used to working with Batman. Had this entire situation been Batman rather than Nightwing, Tim would not have received a hug as a reward for finding the cure.
The younger wrapped his small arms around Nightwing's shoulders awkwardly, smiling into his brother's laughs. Dick pulled back, smiling one of the most earnest smiles Tim had ever seen on the boy's face.
"Joker left this," Nightwing said as an answer to Tim's first question. He held up the paper with the red writing on it. Tim cringed at the thought that perhaps the ink used was blood, but read the not anyway.
If you want them to live, you must go where it began!
Tim's eyes squinted in confusion. "Where it began?" he asked. "Does he mean where he was keeping you guys hostage?"
Dick glanced at Wally, but then replied, "No." he looked down at the note once more. "He means where we made the deal. Joyland."
********************************LINE BREAKER!********************************
Just like all those years ago when Dick had first sat perched on a rooftop scoping out the amusement park, the night was calm. The wind blew gently around him, moving his dark hair. He wore no cape this time, but he could still hear Tim's flapping with the breeze. Wally's heat was keeping him from shivering in the cold, Gotham air while he searched for signs of life.
The buildings were still marked with Joker's signatures from five years ago. The paint was fading away, but it still glowed like a neon sign. Some of the signs had been freshly painted over, indicating that Joker was in fact residing here for the time being.
Nightwing sighed, almost nervously. "He's here." he confirmed, standing up. Grabbing Wally around the waist, he reached for his grapple and fired. Tim's own line shot out next to his and the younger leaped off the rooftop behind the two elders.
Wally landed first. Dick released him after he began to pull and he landed in a summersault before getting up and doing a quick perimeter check. As the others landed he came sprinting back. Without a word, he nodded and switched to stealth mode.
Robin and Nightwing looked at each other before moving forward, already knowing which entrances who was covering. Nightwing had the cure safely stowed in his utility belt and he would be the one to confront Joker and retrieve their friends. Tim and Wally would remain in the shadows and see if Nightwing would need backup, or if Joker didn't keep up his end of the deal. Joker wouldn't get a cure if their friends were not there. They had already decided that. They wouldn't settle for an address. The hostages, in the flesh.
Nightwing looked up realizing he was alone now. Tim and Wally were stationing themselves, Tim in a vent near the main room of the Fun House and Wally near the back entrance.
Nightwing sighed, trying to steady himself. The sick feeling in his stomach didn't subside with the intake of oxygen though. His body was fighting his every movement he made toward the front door.
Dick looked up at the building. He was lost in his memories and almost didn't notice the bright green X over the word 'Fun' above the door. In its place, 'Mad' had been spray painted.
A white clough appeared by his mouth as he laughed. "Welcome to the Mad House." He whispered quietly before looking down. "Yeah, no kidding."
And then he stepped inside.
Mirrors lined both walls and the ceiling, making it horribly difficult to navigate the building. However, Dick had heat sensor lenses installed in his mask: something he didn't have the last time he confronted Joker here. He switched them on and looked around.
He could see Tim's heat signature. The red form was smaller, and higher up than the rest. He could also see Wally's. His was brighter red than all the others' and further away from him. In the center of the building there were four other heat signatures. Four? Dick thought. There should've been five. Maybe Joker left his girlfriend at home. Two of these signatures were sitting back to back and hard to tell apart, almost forming an orange blob. Another was a few feet away and also on the floor. The last wasn't much of a heat signature. It was a light blur, with a small orange blob in the center. That must've been Joker. He must be dying. Really dying.
Nightwing moved forward, keeping his eye on the signatures. The remained still despite the occasional pacing Joker did. He navigated through the maze of mirrors until he finally walked into the opening in which Joker's hostages lay.
He flipped off his heat sensors and looked around. Artemis and Batgirl were sitting on the floor, back to back. A few feet away from them, also on the floor, Harley Quinn was crouched on the ground watching Joker – who had his back turned to Dick – as he mumbled quietly to himself.
Once he'd been spotted (by Harley, of all people) Joker stopped pacing and turned around. "Oh, Mistah J, Wing Nut's here!" she screeched.
The infamous smile grew wide when green eyes met the blue bird. Joker looked terrible, his veins a sickly purple color and sticking out repulsively. His hair was like a big green cotton mess atop his head. It stuck up in every place as though he'd just stuck his hand in a electrical socket. His lips were chapped and the red seemed to have dimmed, but was hastily covered up by red lipstick (Dick decided now was not the time to make a drag queen joke about the Joker). Even his suit looked dingy, as though he'd been sweating heavily in it.
"Ah, Nightwing," Joker said simply. "Have you got my cure? Because if you don't, I'll probably blast Ginger first." He held out his gloved hand and curled his fingertips expectantly, slowly. The gesture was creepy but demanding. And Nightwing knew the consequences if he didn't comply.
He squinted, looking around once more. These were all the heat signatures in the building. "Where's Red?" he asked skeptically.
Joker laughed, turning towards Harley and clapping his hands expectantly. "Harley! The giant touch screen!" he called. Harley got up and pulled out an iPad (Fancy, considering you're still using VHS) from a small satchel at her side. She giggled girlishly and then stood next to Joker with her hands intertwined as she stared at him. Her adoring gaze hurt Dick's heart, and he wished he could do something for her. But he couldn't, and right now he didn't really care.
Joker touched the screen a few times and then flipped the device around, showing him Jason; tied to the same chair he'd been strapped to in the VHS. He was awake, but his mouth was duct taped shut. He appeared to be alone, though there easily could've been a Joker goon somewhere off to the side. In the lower corner of the screen, red lights flashed LIVE.
"What the hell is this?" Dick asked angrily. "This wasn't the deal!" He could hear Barbara snort viciously but he ignored her probable sarcastic comment in favor of figuring out what the hell Joker was pulling.
"This," Joker said, gesturing to the screen. "Is reassurance that I'll be getting out of here alive. And Free."
Dick almost lunged. "You son of a bitch,"
"Hey!" Joker shouted angrily. "My mother was a lady and she wouldn't much like your tone!" he pouted playfully before the smile lit his features once more. "Oh, I couldn't stay mad at you, Wing Nut! You're too much fun."
He giggled gleefully while Nightwing fumed a few feet away. His fists clenched at his sides and his body flushed a dark shade of red. Breathing became a struggle, and he could feel the darkness that came with rage overpowering his vision. Tim must've seen, because he was radioing Nightwing.
"Dick, just give him the cure, and save Babs and Artemis. Wally will go and get Jay. It'll be okay."
Dick took a few breaths. In and out, he thought patiently. In and out.
"Give me that address," he growled. "Or you won't get your cure." Dick's eyes were low, looking up at the Joker as though he was a predator eyeing down his prey. His muscles tightened and he readied to pounce.
Joker shook his pointer finger disappointedly. "I think you have more on the line than I do, bird boy." He whispered demonically. His voice was low, creeping its way into Nightwing's head and sending chills down his spine. "Give me the antidote, and I'll tell you where your misfit is."
Nightwing hesitated in reaching back towards his utility belt. But as soon as his gaze shifted towards Barbara and their eyes met, and he saw the fear floating in her oceanic eyes, he knew he had to save her. And he had to save her now. He didn't trust the Joker, but three was better than none. He reached back and pulled out the cure, holding the small vile up for Joker to see. Extending his arm, he carefully handed the tube of liquid over to the maniac and watched as Joker cried in glee.
"Now where is he?" Nightwing asked as Joker examined his antidote.
The clown seemed irritated by this interruption, though he looked up at Nightwing anyhow. "He is in an old warehouse on the left hand corner of Baker Street. But you won't make it in time."
A smile darkened Joker's features, and Nightwing knew he was already too late.
********************************LINE BREAKER!********************************
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Seconds ticked away. Seconds of a life just gone. It made one stop and truly realize how meaningful a few precious seconds could be. Jason was so familiar with this feeling. He could see the glowing red numbers, watching himself die in their reflection. The growing sensation of self pity and loathe for a certain clown grew in his stomach.
He didn't want to die. At least, not the same way. An exploding warehouse at the hands of a freak with no fashion sense was so last year. If Jason was going to bite the dust, he wanted to go down fighting. There was nothing honorable about being strapped to a chair during an explosion.
There were so many things he'd never get to do. But he'd already been through this speech. And to be honest, Jason had done a lot more than most people by his age. He's already died once, he's not a virgin, he's saved a life, he's taken a life, he's felt weightless, he's felt powerless, he's seen the Gotham sky that few even know exist. He's soared beneath the stars with nothing above him and nothing below him.
He really has no room to talk about things he wished he'd done.
But, there was still a list.
Despite what he said, he wanted to sort out his problems with Bruce. He wanted to tell Barbara he really thought she was pretty. He wanted to steal Tim's laptop and hide it in Dick's room. He wanted to buy a house, not a shitty apartment in the slums. He wanted to sabotage one of Bruce's stupid charity balls. He wanted to hang upside down from the chandelier in Wayne Manor. He wanted to shoot the Joker in the skull.
Jason sighed, glancing back up at the glowing red countdown of doom. Five minutes and counting until he dies.
He half heartedly tested his binds once more. Despite already knowing the metal clasps on his wrists were not going to release him he felt he should at least put forth the effort. He should at least try to survive.
He didn't bother pretending to believe someone would save him. Jason hated the feeling that he had in the pit of his stomach last time when he finally realized Bruce hadn't made it. He still wondered sometimes if Bruce even tried to save him.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. Jason knew Bruce tried to save him. What he really wondered was more along the lines of, if it had been Dick, would he have tried harder.
One minute left.
How am I going to spend my last minute this time? He wondered, moving his jaw around the uncomfortably placed duct tape. He didn't want to spend it wondering about his problems with Bruce. That seemed too depressing to die to. He wanted to die at least somewhat happily this time.
So he thought about girls.
But his dirty, blissful thoughts were interrupted by the loud speaker. "Good morning, bird brain! Well actually it isn't morning. It's 11:59. But whatever." The metal clasps on his hands came undone as the speaker continued. "You have thirty seconds left to live. But, since I've already pulled this prank before, I figured I'd do something different this time. I've given you a chance at survival. The way I see it, if you win, I get to play with you some more. But if I win, you die! So really, it's a win/win for me! Well, good luck, Red."
Jason had already ripped the duct tape off his lips (accidentally pulling the mask along with it) and was now feverishly working on untying his feet. He glanced up at the clock. 25 seconds until midnight and until he blew up again. He had to move. Jason had only finished untying one foot.
This would be a lot fucking easier with one of my knives.
15 seconds.
He began kicking frantically to get the other foot loose.
10 seconds.
The rope broke under the pressure, and Jason Todd searched frantically for an exit.
5 seconds.
The door was all the way across the room.
4 seconds.
He ran as fast as he could.
2 seconds.
He could hear the last tick of the clock… he was so close…
1 second.
********************************LINE BREAKER!********************************
TA DA!
And here we see Charlie being a total bitch for ending the story there.
NO WORRIES. I am already working on a sequel. Keep your heads on straight, lovelies. I can't really think of a title for the sequel (and probably the ending of what I'm calling the Madhouse Trilogy) and that's what is pretty much stopping me from posting the first chapter right now. I'd ask for your guys' help, but I'd need to give away the story and I want you to suffer for at least a day on that ending. ;)
But before the sequel, I have an epilogue I'll probably post tomorrow. I honestly can't believe I finished this story and am still so excited about the sequel. Thank you to anyone and everyone who reviewed or helped me better my writing. Or just messaged me and made me get off my lazy ass and write another chapter. :) I love you guys.
REVIEW ANSWERS
Masqueraded Angel: Thanks! :3 I hope you love this one too. :D
Soccerin19: Well lucky you I have a sequel. :D but I'm sorry, no Joker v. Nightwing this time. :/ Maybe I'll write some into the sequel. Then again, maybe not. You'll have to just read to find out. :3
DragonflyThief: No worries. I love all reviews, though I really really love long ones. So those are much appreciated. :P Hah, I hope you like cliffhangers. In my opinion, that ^^^ right there is a pretty annoying cliff hanger. I mean if I was a reader reading my own stories I would probably hate myself, because I give cliffhangers. They're so fun to write. And such great places to end chapters. And Tim was wearing just civilian clothes. He wasn't naked, no worries. Wally gave him other clothes because his were soaking wet. I'll try to space out the ellipsis a little bit more. Though usually I just put the period three times and my computer does what it wants. Thanks for the advice. :D
Blaze Grayson a.k.a. Dark Wing: First of all, cool name. An OC I presume? And thank you. :D
GlOmP3R: You my friend have a very difficult name to type. It's clever though. I like it. And I hope I satiated your need for Jay angst with that little bit about him dying. ;) I thought it was kind of angsty, though I'd still love your opinion.
OTHER THAN THAT, I can't wait to see you all reviewing at the epilogue and hopefully the sequel. ;) Thanks for following me all this way guys. :D
REVIEW!
~Charlie~