The Cascade Theater looked as if it had been abandoned for a hundred years, instead of twenty. Batman and Red Hood slipped into the foyer. Jason could tell this building used to be one of grandeur and opulence, but to him, it now looked like something from a horror film. If Robin had been standing with them, he undoubtedly would have made some smart ass remark about how it was probably haunted.
As soon as the thought crossed Jason's mind, his ears detected an extremely faint melody, the eerie chords echoing slightly despite the soundproof doors of the theater. He met Batman's gaze, and their eyes narrowed. Batman's hunch had been correct.
Together they eased silently across the dust covered carpet and up the grand staircase. Jason raised his gun, his eyes scanning the darkness as his ears tried to shut out the music. Freakin creepy ass ghost music, he thought as they paused on the landing.
A great set of double doors loomed before them, while two smaller staircases branched out to their left and right, leading to the balcony. Without a word, the two heroes separated, Batman going left, Jason right.
Jason moved swiftly and silently up the stairs, cursing when one creaked ominously under his boots. He froze for a moment, then hearing nothing, continued until he reached the top landing. Steeling himself, he quietly eased open the door, and stepped into the theater.
Instantly the music became louder. The rapidly changing notes and chords spoke of someone with masterful skill, and the eerie melody chosen spoke of someone with dark taste. Jason took a deep breath to steady his nerves and anger, and eased forward in a crouch until his shoulder touched the balcony's edge. He looked over, and then he couldn't breathe.
The stage was brightly lit with pale light, creating a scene that looked entirely black and white. Not only was it set up with trapeze swings, but a maze of bars and poles were placed intricately along the wall of the backdrop, going all the way up to the ceiling. Swinging on the left side of the stage, dressed in a matching black and white costume, was Dick.
Jason watched, transfixed and horrified, as Dick propelled himself forward, letting go of the trapeze and vaulting into the air. His body twisted and spiraled from the momentum, and he easily caught hold of one of the metal bars; he flipped around the bar, faster and faster until he released it, leapt into the air, and caught hold of a higher set of bars, where he bent his body back until he froze in a handstand, his body perfectly vertical.
It was incredible.
It was horrible.
Even from afar, Jason could see that Dick's face was completely blank as he continued performing death defying stunts with no net for a psychopath. That didn't add up. Even if Dick was forced to perform at gunpoint, his face would be alive with emotion; fear, pain, exhaustion. The Morgan girl had been telling the truth. The Collector was somehow controlling them.
Jason's blood boiled as his fists clenched so hard, his knuckles cracked. His heart rate and breathing quickened as Dick swung in circles around one of the bars, then let go and somersaulted twice before seizing another trapeze swing. His body shouldn't have been able to do that; not with how violently sick he was or with those bruised ribs.
A black gauntleted hand gripped his shoulder, but he had sensed Batman coming and didn't flinch. He tore his eyes away from his brother, who performed seemingly effortlessly to the dark music. Batman's eyes were transfixed on his son, and Jason could feel his mentor's hand shaking where it gripped him. Every ounce of the Dark Knight's being screamed for blood, and Jason felt exactly the same.
Batman breathed out slowly through his nose, met Jason's eyes, then looked down towards the theater below. Jason's eyes followed obediently.
To the right of the stage was a grand piano, and even from here, Jason could see the blood stains on the white ivory keys. Seated at the piano was a young girl, her age too hard to determine from that far away. Her back was unnaturally stiff, even as her mangled fingers flew across the keys.
A masked guard stood at attention beside her. Another stood on the other side of the stage, his attention on Dick, who had built his momentum enough to perform one, two three, four somersaults before catching himself and swinging forward on another bar.
Batman's grip tightened painfully on his shoulder, and Jason's eyes fell on a form sitting in the very center of the theater. Hate boiled in his stomach as he stared down at the man behind it all, the Collector. He couldn't make out much of his features, other than he was tall, thin, and had stringy blonde hair. The Collector was literally on the edge of his seat as he watched Dick fly, completely transfixed.
A growl nearly slipped from his lips as Jason readied his gun. He looked back at Batman who held up two fingers and gestured beneath them. Four guards total then. They'd have to take as many out as stealthily and as quickly as they could before taking down the Collector. It was high risk, one wrong move and Dick could fall.
Jason nodded at Batman, and with a last look at the teenager, who performed every trick he knew without hesitation or pause, turned and crept out of the balcony and into the foyer. He made his way quickly to the double doors leading into the ground floor of the theater, knowing Batman was getting into position.
Jason eased open the door and slipped inside, instantly dropping to the floor and rolling behind the back row of seats. He waited, his breath held, for a sign he'd been discovered. Nothing. The music kept playing its disturbing melody. Jason looked, using a seat as cover, to see one of the masked guards standing in the aisle, his attention focused on the stage. Idiot. The Red Hood moved, sliding forward silently as he seized the man from behind. Jason instantly clamped a hand over the man's masked mouth as his other arm squeezed his throat in a choke hold.
The guard's arms clawed at him as Jason eased them both to the ground. Seconds passed, and the man went limp in his arms. Jason glanced across the theater and saw Batman vanish into the shadows. There was no sign of the third guard.
The sound of painful impact made his head turn rapidly toward the stage, where Dick had landed awkwardly on one of the poles. For a terrifying second, it looked as if he would slip, but his body righted itself and he twisted into another handstand, which he held for a moment before flipping to another set of bars.
Jason felt sick. Now that he was closer, he could see that Dick's entire body was shaking violently. The boy was drenched in sweat, and instead of being flushed from the exertion, he was deathly pale. Light caught on something small and silver on his neck.
There was a thud as the guard standing over the captive pianist fell, a batarang glancing off his mask. Shit! He'd missed his mark. Jason cursed and aimed quickly at the other guard, who raised his gun towards the back of the theater.
The Red Hood pulled the trigger, and his tranquilizer hit the guard straight in the neck. The guard didn't even have time to take the dart out before he collapsed.
"ENOUGH!"
The enraged roar made him whirl. The Collector had moved towards the stage and now stood directly in front of it. Jason raised his eyes, and his blood froze. Dick was nowhere to be seen.
Batman had the Collector cornered. Jason fought to control his rising panic. He knew what happened when an animal was cornered, and with Dick suddenly missing…
"How dare you?" seethed the Collector, who shook with rage. His eyes were mad and wide, and the ugly scar stood out vividly against the deathly pallor of his skin. He gestured wildly with his arms, making his silver watch gleam in the light. "How dare you interrupt the greatest performance this theater has ever seen?!"
"Release them," Batman demanded in a fierce growl.
"They are mine!" the Collector hissed, slamming his fist into his chest. "I claimed them, I made them! I will not let anyone take my life's work away from me ever again! Not even you, Batman!"
He hadn't noticed Jason, who had remained in the shadows, his eyes searching frantically for his kid brother.
"They were never yours to claim!" Batman almost snarled. "It's over, Silas! Let. Them. Go."
The Collector's lips stretched suddenly into a grotesque mockery of a smile. "They're mine, all of them. You can't take them from me, Batman! You might want to take your seat now. You wouldn't want to miss the grand finale!"
Jason jerked his head up. There, at the highest point of the stage where the rafters began, was Dick, who stood on top of a thin rail, his back to the theater, arms outstretched.
"Don't!" warned Batman angrily. "It will be the last thing you ever do!"
Fuck! They had to find a way to release Dick from the Collector's control, and they had to do it now! Jason's eyes zeroed in on the man's silver watch. It had to be what was controlling Dick. He dropped his gun and pulled out one of his knives. Jason took aim, knowing it was a risk, but seeing no other option.
There was a sudden, loud crash and a harsh cacophony of music notes filled the theater as the girl collapsed lifelessly onto the piano. Jason's head turned toward the sound, startled.
Too late, Jason realized his mistake. Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he drew back his arm and threw the knife at the Collector. The blade struck through the madman's wrist, the impact so strong that it continued straight through the watch and pinned his arm to the front of the stage.
At the same moment that Jason had thrown his knife, Dick let himself fall.
"NO!" Jason shouted, his heart in his throat as he moved forward even though he knew he'd never make it in time. His brother continued his rapid descent and made no move to save himself.
A black blur flew across Jason's vision, and he froze as Batman caught the teenager in midair. The Dark Knight had fired his grapple the moment the girl had collapsed and shot into the air just in time. As soon as his boots touched the floor of the stage, Dick lurched away from him, collapsing to his hands and knees and vomiting more violently than Jason had ever seen.
The teenager heaved again and again, even when his stomach was empty. Batman caught him as Dick's shaking arms gave out and refused to hold his body up any longer. Jason could see Dick's face twisted in agony as he fought for breath.
The Collector was screaming, still pinned to the stage and blood pouring in a river down his arm. "NO! No, what have you done!? You've ruined everything! He's mine! MINE!"
Jason's head snapped in his direction, his vision turning completely red. He barreled forward, rearing his arm back and slamming it into the Collector's face with as much force as he could. There was a loud crack as his fist impacted with the man's jaw. The Collector's knees gave out; the only thing holding him up was the knife embedded in the stage.
It wasn't enough. Jason lunged, seizing the murdering psychopath by his throat and wrenching him upright. He squeezed, hard, cutting off the man's airway as he reached with his other hand and twisted the knife. The Collector jerked and seized in his arms, unable to draw enough breath to scream.
"RED HOOD! STOP!" Batman shouted. Jason could barely hear him over the roar in his ears. Why should he stop? This monster had tortured and killed children, and had dared to try and do the same with his little brother. And almost succeeded. The sight of Dick leaping to his death flashed before his eyes over and over again as he choked the life out of the Collector, whose eyes had rolled back into his skull.
Arms seized him from behind and yanked him away with such force that he flew back into the front row of seats. He looked up, dazed from his fury, and watched, stupefied, as Batman checked for a pulse. Finding a faint one, Batman quickly grabbed a roll of bandages from his belt and rapidly tied it around the knife still impaling the man's wrist. If he removed it, the Collector would bleed out.
"Check on Dick," ordered Batman, his voice strained and furious. Jason blinked, and his rage washed away in a wave of ice. He lurched to his feet as Batman carefully pulled the knife from the stage and wrapped the knife and wound more thoroughly as he laid the Collector on the ground. Jason propelled himself onto the stage and slid to his knees next to the teenager lying on his back.
He looked even worse up close. Dick's deathly pale skin was gleaming with sweat, and his breath was way too rapid and shallow. His arms were wrapped around his middle as he fought for breath, his face twisted in a pained grimace.
"Hang in there, Dick," Jason said softly. "We got you. You're safe."
Dick turned his face to look at him, and then his eyes were rolling back. His arms fell lifelessly to his sides.
"Dick!" Jason shouted, lunging forward. He pressed his hands to Dick's neck, and let out a shaky breath at the strong, but too rapid pulse he found. The boy had passed out, his body pushed past the breaking point.
Jason looked up at a strange sound, and saw Batman performing chest compressions on the body of the young girl by the piano. His blood ran cold. He could see her better now, and the girl couldn't be older than thirteen, Dick's age. Her pale skin stretched tightly over her bones, and her hands were a mess of blood and bruises.
Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by Batman's grunts of exertion as he fought to save the dying girl.
A wrenching gasp suddenly tore through the silence, and Jason let out a breath of relief as the girl started to breathe. Her eyes fluttered open and locked onto Batman's face.
"It's alright," he said in a soft, steady voice. "It's over."
She stared up at him, and then her face crumpled as she began to sob violently, clinging to Batman's cape with her mangled hands.
Jason tore his eyes away from her, unable to bear the sight any longer. His heart still raced, unable to let go of the fear that gripped him the moment Dick had fallen. His eyes locked onto the unconscious form of the Collector, sprawled on the ground in front of the stage, his bandages already soaked with blood.
He carefully lifted his unconscious brother into his arms. Every inch of Jason still screamed for blood, and he wished that Batman hadn't stopped him from killing the Collector.
I hope it's lived up to your expectations. It was difficult to write, and I found myself tensing up and hunching over while I wrote it. As always, reviews are what inspire me to keep writing, and don't worry, the story is not over yet!