Young Justice -:- Hooked

Author's Note(s): Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Revel in your awesomeness and enjoy this next instalment :P

Chapter Three -:- Fears

Alfred watched from a distance, as he always did, ready to be available whenever he was needed. Over the years he had witnessed all the good and the bad that came with assisting the Caped Crusaders. Stressful scenes, such as this one, occurred on a frighteningly regular basis, though the elder gentlemen had to admit that he had never seen Master Bruce as close to breaking as he did at that moment.

Batman's cowl was pulled back, revealing the exhausted and anxiety ridden expression of Bruce Wayne. He had yet to change out of his uniform, despite the many hours that had passed since Robin's disappearance. He hadn't allowed Alfred to treat his injuries either, though they both knew that he was sporting several broken ribs and a mild concussion at the very least. The butler hadn't made the usual attempts to get his charge to take care of himself - there would be time for that later. When Master Richard was home.

A sudden crash made Alfred spin to face Bruce, who was in the process of abusing the keyboard. "Are you sure that is wise, sir?"

"Damn it all!" Bruce yelled, probably not even hearing Alfred's sardonic question. He curled his gloved hands into fists in an attempt to reign in his frustration, his eyes squeezing shut briefly. "There's nothing here! No clues, no evidence, no leads! I can't…"

Bruce cut himself off as he realised what he was about to say. Alfred stepped forward, coming to stand beside the computer console, which had held up surprisingly well under the vigilante's assault.

"I can't find him," Bruce whispered, almost imperceptibly. The loyal butler looked down at his eldest charge, the slight quirk of his brow the only visible sign of his astonishment. The ever stoic Batman would never admit defeat – he was far too stubborn, and maybe even a little too arrogant, for that. Bruce glared up at the multiple computer screens before him, and then down at his hands as he struggled to try and type again. "My… my hands are shaking," he muttered, sounding equal parts appalled and bewildered. "I can't focus… I feel sick… What…?"

"You are afraid, sir," Alfred informed the billionaire, earning himself a wide-eyed expression that did not belong on the young man's face – even with the cowl pulled back. He had not seen Bruce this vulnerable since… well, since that night. And then the traumatised boy had shut off all emotion and gradually become a closed-off and driven crime fighter. Perhaps that circus boy had gotten further under Bruce's iron skin than anyone had ever realised…

Bruce blinked as he processed the butler's words. That was when the realisation seemed to hit him. "I can't lose him, Alfred. I just can't."

"Then I suggest that you find him, sir," Alfred replied, not unkindly. "And refrain from any further assaults on the equipment."

The vulnerability vanished under a smooth veneer of determination as Bruce nodded and returned his attention back to the many search programmes that he had running. From where he stood behind his shoulder, the ever-present butler gave a sad smile at his successful prompting. As much as he appreciated the changes that Master Richard had instilled in the Dark Knight, now was not the time for him to come unravelled. If this story was to have a happy ending, they would need the relentlessness of Batman rather than the growing humanity of Bruce Wayne.

Alfred returned to his vigil from the shadows, keeping one eye on his charge as he busied himself with their medical supplies. He didn't want to think about what horrors were being inflicted upon the young master, but his practical side told him to be prepared for anything. He began cataloguing everything, arranging gauze and bandages where they would be easily accessible. He even checked their supply of Dick's blood type, knowing that in all likelihood they would be needing it soon.

The one possibly that he didn't allow himself to consider, however, was the worst case scenario. Master Richard was coming home. No matter what.

"Oooooh Batsy!"

A chill ran down Alfred's spine as the homicidal clown's voice echoed around the cave. He turned to look back at the monitors, half expecting to see the impossibly wide grin, but it was purely a radio feed. Bruce was instantly on his feet, staring at the screens in lieu of an actual face to batglare out of existence. "Joker," he hissed, his own voice dripping with venom.

"There you are Bats! I thought you must have gotten lost!" The Joker replied gleefully. "I've been waiting so long for you now; I figured that you had to be. You're usually so punctual after all."

"Tell me where you are and I'll be there in seconds, I promise you that," Bruce threatened, taking on the Batman's deeper timbre.

The Joker sounded thoroughly upset. "You still don't know where I am? I'm disappointed Batsy. I can't imagine why you would be so off your game. Can you Bird Boy?"

A low moan sounded over the connection, making Bruce's posture go completely rigid. "Robin?"

"Say hello, Boy Blunder, don't be so rude!" Joker jibed, his words followed by a smack loud enough to make both Bruce and Alfred flinch. "Daddy Bats wants to talk to you!" Another hit, this time eliciting a pain-filled groan. Joker tutted like a disappointed teacher. "Well, I'm sorry Batsy, but Baby Bird's not being very talkative at the moment. Strange, I had him singing like a canary not all that long ago – we were having such a wonderful time!"

"Leave him alone, Joker," Bruce demanded dangerously.

"Oh I will Batsy! When you pull your finger out and come and find us already! I'm getting sooo-ooo-ooo bored! And Wonder Boy's stopped being any fun!" Joker sighed heavily. "If you don't come soon, I might just have to call it quits. All that planning… wasted. But I'll make sure that you find the Birdie, Bats. It will be... unforgettable."

A beep sounded from one of the consoles, and Alfred noticed that Bruce had a tracer programme running, and it had just got a hit. Batman smiled grimly. "I'm on my way now, Joker."

"Finally!" The Joker exclaimed like a kid on Christmas morning. "I'll roll out the welcome wagon for you Batsy! This is gonna be a blast!"

The Joker threw back his head with laughter. "A blast! Why… I crack myself up!"

Robin peered through half-closed eyelids, his concussed mind struggling with the concept of consciousness let alone anything else. He was in so much pain that his brain had stopped telling him about it, leaving him oddly numb, like his body didn't quite belong to him anymore. His vision was tinged with grey as he tried to focus on his captor.

"Did you hear that Wonder Boy?" Joker asked as he carelessly dropped a radio on the ground, the device shattering on contact with the concrete. "Batty's on his way! Isn't that great?!"

Batty…? Wait… Bruce? Bruce was coming? Hope fluttered in Robin's battered chest as he processed the Joker's words. But then his sluggish thoughts caught up. Batman was on his way – but he didn't know about the bomb… when he showed up to rescue him… it'll be all over. "No…" Robin slurred, the one syllable escaping his raw throat and reminding him that he was hurting. A lot.

"Oh yes!" Joker countered from where he was collecting up his coat and hat. "Look on the bright side, Tweetie Pie! It will all be over soon! And when you go careening through those pearly gates – on fire and screaming – you won't be all by your lonesome. You'll have Bats to keep you company! Isn't that great?!"

Robin tried his very best to glare at the Joker, but he was having trouble focusing on all the painfully bright colours.

"Aww, don't look at me like that!" Joker cooed as he skipped up to where the Boy Wonder was hanging. He pulled a fedora down over his green hair and gave Robin an almost forlorn look. "You're reminding me of dear ol' Daddy Bats… Makes me sad that I'm gonna miss the main event…"

"Stick around…" Robin hissed between bloody lips that he had practically chewed off as he had tried not to scream for the psycho's sick pleasure. He grinned darkly. "It's gon-na… be a… blast…"

Joker smiled at his captive appreciatively. "You've grown up good, Wonder Boy! Much more fun than you used to be." The joviality vanished, as if the madman had suddenly switched between masks – from comedy to tragedy. From pride to anger. "But when you first came along – that's a whole different story. A tiny little brat trailing after the Dark Knight's cape? I hated you," the clown glared at Robin and prodded at the blood stained 'R' on his chest. "You distracted my Batty with your cutesy innocence and fancy acrobatics. And the bright colours? That was my shtick!"

The Joker lashed out angrily, smacking Robin square across the chest, making his already abused ribcage scream out in protest. He was swinging again, but his equilibrium was already so screwed up from the concussion that his swimming vision couldn't even tell the difference.

"Me and Bats – we used to chase each other all the live long day! I'd try to blow up City Hall, and Bats would come flying in and knock me down. Then there would be hostages and screaming and incompetent cops and all sorts of fun stuff… but in the end it would always come down to me and Batman. Then you came along."

Robin was struggling to stay conscious – not that he really wanted to listen to the Joker's version of the Ballad of The Dark Knight and The Clown Prince of Crime – but because Batman was coming. He had to stay awake. He had to warn his mentor… there was no way that he was going to let Joker's plan succeed in killing both of them.

"Suddenly Bats had more important things to worry about!" the psychopath continued, turning away from Robin and pacing in front of the bomb as he reminisced about all the wrongs that the Boy Wonder had committed against him. "It was my greatest plan – a masterpiece – detonate a rocket full of Joker venom in low orbit – make the whole world smile! Bats showed up on cue, set about thwarting my shenanigans. But then you got dosed and started giggling all over the place. Without a second thought about me, Bats grabbed you up and took you away!"

The story was vaguely familiar, Robin guessed, but through the haze of the head trauma he couldn't really remember anything beyond the pain and terror of the laughing fit he had been locked in that day.

"I could have gotten away with it!" The Joker paused in his pacing and spun around dramatically to face the hanging boy again. "Can you imagine what the world would have been like now?! But I couldn't. Not without Bats there to stop me! It wouldn't have been a victory!"

"So… basically," Robin retorted between hitched breaths. "We should… ignore… you."

The Joker turned on Robin so fast that the boy didn't even know what had happened until his foggy mind registered the fireworks of pain once again. He had no idea where the clown had been hiding the baseball bat that had smacked into the side of his head – in fact he didn't know a whole lot of anything anymore. His vision whited out, his ears rang – the darkness called for him so invitingly… but there was something important… he couldn't pass out… what was it…?

"NOBODY IGNORES ME!" Joker screamed, even though Robin couldn't hear him anymore. "Nobody. Batman will never ignore me again. Not now that I've straightened out his priorities, right Wonder Boy?

"Wonder Boy…?" The Joker turned to look at Robin expectantly; poking his unconscious form with the end of the bat but getting no response. He sighed. "Now look what you made me do! You're supposed to be awake when Batty gets here! How am I supposed to get the full effect of the moment he finds you if you're not conscious enough to utter your heart breaking last words?"

Unsurprisingly, Robin didn't answer.

"You're always ruining my fun," Joker pouted as he dropped the bat and checked his watch. "Well, would you look at the time?! I've gotta run! The Guest of Honour should be arriving any minute now!"

The Joker gave everything a final check-over and then skipped over to the door, the light of a streetlamp casting him in yellow as he turned to give the Boy Wonder one last grin.

"It's been a blast."

"The docks," Bruce said by way of explanation as he marched over to the Batmobile, his long black cape billowing behind him. The moment that he stepped on the circular platform that the high-tech car was parked on, it began to spin, turning the front of the vehicle towards the waterfall exit. "I've called in a bomb threat to clear the area until the GCPD bomb disposal unit shows."

Alfred followed dutifully, coming to a stop beside the Batmobile as Bruce climbed into the driver's seat. "A bomb threat, sir?"

"With the Joker involved, it's not all that unlikely," Bruce replied as he pulled the cowl back over his head, anxiety ridden blue eyes vanishing behind white lenses. Batman started up the engine, and then paused, looking over at the butler. "I'm going to need you, Alfred."

The elder gentlemen nodded. "Indubitably, sir. As always I will be ready and waiting for yours and Master Richard's return. I have already called Doctor T…"

"No, Alfred," Batman interrupted, making the butler blink at him in as close an expression to surprise as he ever got. "I need you to come with me. Robin may not be able to survive a round trip."

"I… I understand, sir," Alfred's usually unflappable countenance stuttered. "But by your own protocols…"

"Damn them!" Batman snapped harshly. The elder gentlemen studied his charge for but a moment, realising just how badly Robin's kidnapping had affected the Dark Knight. Maintaining their secret identities was always top priority – no matter what. Even in the unthinkable (yet tragically likely) event of death, measures were in place to protect their civilian alter egos. Alfred was easily identifiable as the Wayne family's loyal butler, ever present at the billionaire's side. If he was spotted with Batman… well… it wasn't that bigger leap of logic. For Bruce to run the risk…

"Understood, sir," Alfred nodded. He then hurried around to the passenger side of the Batmobile and climbed into the seat usually reserved for Robin. Before he had even fastened his seatbelt he was thrown back against the headrest as Batman gunned the throttle.

It was a clear night for a city as pollution ridden as Gotham. As they thundered across the RK Memorial Bridge and into the slums of Crime Alley, a full moon attempted to brighten the smoggy sky. The few stars bright enough to shine broke through the constant cloud that shrouded the tallest towers of the city. The Dark Knight and his butler veered through the streets at speeds that would have left a formula one car in the dust, eating up the miles between them and the docks on the southwest banks.

It took fifteen minutes. A nigh on impossible time to cross a city as vast as Gotham, and yet as the Batmobile skidded to a stop among the maze of cargo containers, that fifteen minutes felt like an eternity. At the very edge of the docks, practically on the coast of Gotham River, was the warehouse.

Batman's trained eyes studied the building and its surroundings, before he opened the canopy and climbed out of the vehicle. "Stay in the car," he ordered the butler.

Alfred didn't need telling twice. "Yes, sir."

Batman knew it was a trap. It was fairly obvious. But that wasn't going to dissuade the Dark Knight from entering. All senses were on high alert for an ambush, or trip wires, or anything potentially deadly. This was the Joker that he was dealing with – he couldn't afford to be careless, no matter how much he simply wanted to run to his son's side.

Satisfied that an attack would not be coming at him from outside, Batman headed straight for the main door. It opened with the squeal of old metal, loudly announcing his presence. Not that he should have been worried – the Joker was long gone. There was only one person waiting for him in the warehouse, and he couldn't hear anything anyway.

"Robin…" Batman breathed; horror, rage and fear fighting for precedence as he took in his protégé's broken body.

The closer he got, the hotter the rage boiled, creating a tunnel vision as he closed the distance between them. Robin was suspended from the hook run through his right shoulder, his chin resting on his chest as his unconscious form swayed in the light breeze. His uniform was torn and stained a far darker shade of its optimistic red, the precious liquid dripping in the puddle on the floor beneath him. Bruises covered every inch of exposed skin.

Batman came around to stand before his son, his hand reaching up to his neck. He pressed two fingers against the Boy Wonder's throat, relieved when he was rewarded with a faint pulse. He lightly touched his son's cheek, ignoring the blood from the head wound that almost instantly soaked his hand. "Robin? Robin, can you hear me?"

He got no response – not even a twitch. But he guessed that that was to be expected as he took in the damage to the side of Robin's head. From above his left ear to the 'R' on his uniform, a river of sticky blood coated his white skin and clotted in his dark hair. Batman didn't even want to think about the damage that he couldn't see. He didn't want to know what the Joker had done to cause it. He was just glad that his son wasn't awake to feel the pain that he had to be in.

Batman shook his head to try and bury the emotions threatening to overwhelm him in that moment. He needed to think straight and help his son, not get lost in the horror. He reached for the hook, trying to figure out the best way to get Robin down without making things worse. He gently began to pry his son's fingers from around the metal, mortified to find that some of them were dislocated from being wrapped so tightly around the hook to alleviate the pressure.

"Opri…"

Batman's attention snapped to Robin's face as his son's strained voice suddenly reached him. Blue eyes dragged open slowly, but there was no focus in them. "Robin?" he asked quietly, not wanting to aggravate his head trauma any worse than it already was. "Robin, can you hear me?"

Robin struggled to draw in a breath, his eyes trying to find Batman's face as they refused to focus. "Opri… nu face… capcană…"

Romani. Robin was speaking his native tongue, a language that Batman didn't know. He couldn't understand what his son was saying, but that wasn't what really concerned him. It had been four years since Dick had spoken Romani conversationally on a regular basis – he had already known basic English when Bruce had adopted him. Never before when he had been hurt had he ever slipped back into his native language – the fact that he had reverted now… coupled with the head trauma…

"Dick…" Bruce whispered as he hooked a finger beneath his son's chin and lifted his head slightly so that he could look him in the eye. "Can you… can you understand me…?"

Robin gave him a confused look, as if he didn't get the question. And then he blinked slowly. "Capcană..." he repeated, looking determined, even as he sounded weak. "Cârlig... bombă... în spatele tău..."

Dick purposely looked over Batman's shoulder, making the older man turn. For the first time, he saw the Joker's bomb in all its glory. He took in the mountain of flammable material in an instant, briefly wondering how he had missed it before – but then again, Robin's state of being had been rather distracting. He saw the jumble of timers and wires and knew that he would never be able to dismantle this Frankenstein of a bomb. But then he noticed one particular wire – practically invisible in the darkness of the warehouse – wrapped around a chain that led from the bomb, to the roof, and down to the hook embedded in his son's shoulder.

"You're the trigger," Batman realised as he reassessed the situation. Robin gave him a look as if to say 'duh! That's what I've been trying to tell you!' before his face scrunched up in pain again. "If I get you free – the bomb goes off. Damn you Joker!"

How in the heck was he supposed to get them out of this one? He couldn't leave Robin hanging there much longer – it was clearly getting harder for the boy to simply breathe – and he couldn't run the risk of Joker getting bored and just blowing the place up by remote anyway. He didn't have the time to disarm the bomb or deactivate the trigger mechanism… How?

"Merge..." Robin muttered, his eyes slipping closed again. Batman was surprised that he was conscious at all, let alone trying to warn him. Dick lifted his right arm; his left hand still firmly clamped around the hook, and brushed his fingers against the shoulder of Bruce's cape. "Lăsa…lasă-mă…"

"I… I don't understand…" Bruce replied, catching Dick's hand before it could fall back to his side. Although, that wasn't strictly true. He knew his son well enough to know what he was saying, even if they weren't currently speaking the same language. He squeezed Dick's hand, making the boy open his eyes one final time. "I'm not leaving you, do you hear me? That's what the Joker wants. But I'm not leaving you," Bruce paused, trying to remember one of the phrases Dick had taught him, "îți promit."

This time, when Dick closed his eyes, Bruce knew that he wouldn't be opening them again for a while (if ever – but he refused to admit that). Determined, angry and afraid, Batman realised that he didn't have time to be gentle. He drew a sharp baterang from his belt as he came to stand by Robin's side.

He would have to make this fast.

With a decade's worth of well-practiced skill, Batman threw the tool of his trade, not needing to watch it to know that it was flying true. He heard the shink of the baterang slicing through the chain – heard the near-silent click of a timer being armed – but he ignored it in favour of focusing on the rapidly descending body of his protégé. He caught Robin with open arms, hating how frail and still the boy felt against the armour of his uniform.

He was already moving as he glanced back at the timers on the bomb.

5… 4… 3… 2…

The Joker is a ridiculously difficult character to write. Followed closely by Batman. Why am I writing a fic where these two are main characters again? Never mind. Please let me know how I'm doing… constructive criticism welcome! See you ASAP for the next instalment - though chapter five is being a pain to write at the moment, so I might hold off on posting chapter four until it's a bit closer to being done...

TRANSLATIONS: (Courtesy of Google Translate – Romanian)

Opri: Stop
Nu face: Don't
Capcană: Trap
Cârlig: Hook
Bombă: Bomb
În spatele tău: Behind you
Merge: Go
Lăsa: Leave
Lasă-mă: Leave me
Îți promit: I promise