A/N: I can not tell you how many times I've rewritten this chapter. At first, I kept writing Jason as if he were from "Under the Red Hood"; his character in that movie and in Arkham Knight differ substantially for several reasons. Thanks to Silverheart for your review; it helped me put things in my story into perspective. I'm satisfied with Chapter 14 now, so I hope you all enjoy it.

The Arkham Knight's vile declaration echoed about the hotel suite, ringing in our ears. I could only fume silently in response. I'd known that confronting Jason was a mistake but, of course, I just had to go and search for whatever good was left in him. I was a fool for even trying; if Barbara and Dick couldn't get through to him, what made me think that I had the ability to do so?

"You-you...killing Bruce isn't going to solve anything!" Dick stammered, glaring intently at the former Robin. "And it sure as hell won't make you feel any better!"

"I don't know, Nightwing," I commented icily, folding my arms across my chest. "He doesn't seem to have any remorse for massacring all those people outside." By now, the Arkham Knight had thoroughly pissed me off. I was done being nice.

"Those guys had it coming," Jason scoffed, tensing up. "They thought they could jump me, so I showed them just how worthless they all were."

"Yeah, before you pumped them full of lead," I shot back, eyes narrowing. "Some lesson."

Dick shot me a desperate look over his shoulder as he stood in front of me, arms raised to keep Jason from charging. I wasn't helping him calm Jason down, but right then, I couldn't have cared less.

"IT WAS NECESSARY!" Jason exploded, throwing one of his handguns. Dick cried out and I tilted my head easily, the weapon flying past my ear and smashing against something in the kitchen behind me.

"Batman never understood how to control crime," Jason breathed heavily, glare fiery. "I got sick of watching the same criminals terrorize the innocent time and time again, so I set out to end it, once and for all," he growled spitefully. "But I slipped up and fell right into the Joker's trap. I waited for days, weeks, months; endured a lifetime of torture and humiliation, but Bruce never came for me!"

"Oh my-he thought you were DEAD, Jason!" I practically shouted in exasperation. "Joker sent us a video! He shot you, point-blank, right in front of the video camera!"

Nightwing shot me a look of surprise. "You...saw that?" He muttered.

"I did," I admitted. "I know I shouldn't've, but I did."

Meanwhile, Jason had frozen, eyes glazing over as if he were having a terrible flashback. Perhaps my outburst had sent him back to that very moment, where the Joker had sealed his fate?

"That's still no excuse," the Arkham Knight growled, shaking his head and coming back to his senses. "Faking someone's death is child's play if you know what you're doing. You all stopped caring about me long before then!"

Nightwing and I were rendered silent by Jason's assertion. He was absolutely right; even when Batman thought his second Robin was dead, he could've at least found his remains and brought them home.

"I never stopped looking, Jay," Dick entreated him in desperation. "Neither did Barbara. Before we learned that Joker had you, we figured that you just didn't want to be found."

I, however, was through arguing with the enraged man. "It's no use," I whispered, leaning close to Dick's ear. "I'm sorry, but we really should head out. Gotham still needs us, and we've done everything we could for Jason."

"You should listen to your Batbrat, Dickhead," Jason seethed, motioning towards the front doors with his remaining gun. "You got what you wanted, right? We talked. Now get out of here before my trigger finger slips."

Nightwing eyes flew between the two of us helplessly. "Jason, I...please," he choked out, voice breaking, "You know Scarecrow's forces inside and out. You can help us!"

"We'll stop him, Dick," I reassured him, eager to leave the Arkham Knight's nauseating presence and return to the GCPD. "We have Oracle's data."

"Robin," he frowned, eyebrows arching apologetically. Our quarreling had left him looking years older. "I can't leave him again." He turned to face his estranged "brother" once more. "If you help us stop Scarecrow, I'll let you see Batman."

"What?" I exclaimed. Was Nightwing really making a deal with the Arkham Knight? There was no way this would end well.

"You're bluffing," Jason replied, blue-green eyes narrow. "After everything I just told you, you'd take me to wherever the hell Bruce is hiding out?"

"Dick, no," I hissed, feeling betrayed. "This is gonna backfire and-"

"Tim!" the man snapped, silencing me. "Trust me, please." He walked up to Jason, holding out his gloved hand. "If you help us stop Scarecrow and all the other madmen running amuck on the streets, I'll take you to Bruce," he repeated determinedly.

The apprehension disappeared from Jason's posture. "You're not kidding, are you?" He replied, looking down at Dick's outstretched hand.

"I'd never lie to you like that, Jay," Dick assured him adamantly. "I mean, look at yourself! Your militia's abandoned you and you're just sitting here while Scarecrow terrorizes what's left of this city. You spent years of your life building this army to kill one man, and not one of your soldiers stopped to help you up when you were down. But I'm here to do just that and give you another chance, if you'd let me."

I expected another one of Jason's tantrums to follow at any moment. To my surprise, his demeanor completely changed. Emotion surged through his face and he became the lost and scared boy we'd seen on the floor of the shopping mall. It was gone in an instant, replaced by one of his signature smirks.

"You sure have a way with words, don't you, Dick?" he chuckled, meeting the older man's expectant eyes. I did a double-take when I heard his response. Even his voice was different, lighter. "But if you think I'm just gonna sit down with Batman and have a nice chat, then-"

"I know, Jason," Nightwing interjected, "All that anger and hate you have for us, save it for the ones who're threatening Gotham. They can't get away with what they've done," he concluded with an intensity I didn't expect from the usually mild-mannered vigilante.

Jason's brow furrowed, looking between me and Nightwing's hand as his eyes swam with turmoil. He lifted his hand, clenching and unclenching it insecurely. Finally, he took a deep breath, reaching out across the metaphorical chasm between us and clasping his "brother's" waiting hand.