AN: Aww, you know this one by now, right? Fear of clowns. Gotham's number one most common phobia. You can see why. IT has been banned from theatres there due to the double risk of Joker and Scarecrow becoming inspired.

Jason's Tragic Backstory ™ comes from the Arkhamverse. It hurt. (This would be more accurately titled 'Jokerphobia', but oh, well.)

McStaken-Gothamites probably have their own r/nosleep. That, and a special r/letsnotmeet.

"-much longer?"

"If those idiots accidentally put him into a coma, they're going to take his place."

"Wait, wait-little bird? Are you awake over there?"

Ow.

Head.

Also, shoulders. What the fuck…?

Oh.

Jason Todd has spent more time than the average citizen being tied up in, at risk of being dramatic, 'the clutches of Gotham's dastardly denizens'. He knows the signs. And this time, whichever assholes are responsible have hung him from what's probably a meat hook, because this is Gotham and those are everywhere.

He tries to forget what happened last time he was hanging from a hook and focuses instead on getting down. Or at least figuring out who he's pissed off this time.

"Imbeciles." Oh. Question answered. This…this is not good. "Where are they-"

"Hang on."

This is not good at all. His best bet for the moment is to feign unconsciousness.

That plan goes out the window when Richardson smashes what feels like a crowbar into his ribcage, making him jerk and try to move away.

"There. He's up."

Crane sighs and rubs his forehead.

"Kitty, please don't break him."

"He's fine." She grins up at him and he doubts he's been magically forgiven for all those times he's made fun of her height. Worth it. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Fuck off."

"I'd forgotten how annoying this one was…" Crane sounds exhausted. Jason's glad to know his presence can cause such exasperation. It's the little things in life… "You seem to be little the worse for wear."

"Did…did you miss the fact that I'm hanging from a meat hook? Maybe you need new glasses, doc."

"Still the same mouthy little brat, I see. I would have thought the clown beat that out of you."

Jason has nothing to say to that. Better to turn his energy to testing the…Jesus, okay, zip-ties and chains…on his wrists.

Yeah, getting down is going to be a bit of a bitch.

"So that's how you shut him up." Crane observes, and if he'd just take a few steps closer Jason could probably kick him. It would hurt, and his shoulders wouldn't be happy, but he could still do it. "Fascinating."

Richardson snorts and leans over to prod him with-yup, that's a crowbar. He's sure that's on purpose.

"I don't like having to crane my neck." she grumbles. "Could've we have gotten a wheelchair?"

Crane grins at that.

"Kitty, you have to crane your neck at everyone. This isn't anything new. Besides, I don't want him cracking his head on the concrete."

Oh.

That…that doesn't bode well.

"Batman has a new Robin if you're looking for bait." he says, trying to keep his voice light. Crane cocks his head, eyes glittering behind his glasses.

"I never said anything about that Bat, child." He takes a few steps forward, stopping just out of kicking range. "No, no, this is entirely about you, and your propensity for disrupting my operations."

What? When was this?

"You've got me confused for someone else-"

"Shh." He leans over, rests the tip of a needle-finger against Jason's lips. Jason tries not to move-he can see the liquid, bright yellow, moving a little in the syringe. "How many of my shipments do you need to destroy? It makes things…difficult."

Huh?

Jason's not above making Crane's life difficult, but he hasn't done anything. Not on purpose, anyway. Maybe there's been collateral damage?

Crane withdraws the needle and straightens up.

"Any distress this causes Batman is, of course, an added bonus."

Distress, Jason's fine ass. That bridge has been salted and burned.

"You're fucking crazy."

"And your manners are still nonexistent. Pity."

Then the lights go off.

For a second or two, some dead-and-buried scrap of Robin surfaces with a, HE'S HERE!, but then something that feels like a big insect brushes against his neck. He jerks, tries to get leverage to lash out, and his head's jerked to the side just enough for a syringe to plunge into his jugular.

He can feel the shit clawing into his bloodstream, thick and acidic. Breathe. Breathe in, breathe out, everything's gonna be fine-

"Don't fight it, little bird."

"Don't call me that, you sick son of a-"

Scarecrow cackles, high and grating, and the sound bounces off the walls to form a chorus.

"Oh, but that's all you ever will be, isn't it?" Yellow eyes come closer. "It's all right, you may as well come to terms. Denial is never healthy."

The temperature dips and Jason twists his hands, clutches at the chain binding them. The chain is real.

"Everything's real, Todders. Didn't you read the last Harry Potter?"

No. No, no, he's not here, he's. Not. Here.

He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth and grips the chain until his knuckles hurt. Breathe. Breathe, the chain is real, Joker isn't, s'just…s'just Crane's toxin, it's not real-

"Although…" Scarecrow's real, much as Jason might wish otherwise. He's behind him, maybe? "Perhaps not…he usually comes for his birds, doesn't he?"

Jason pulls his lips between his teeth. Don't make a sound, s-s'like an animal, Crane'll get bored eventually…

Cold iron nudges under his chin and eases his head up.

"Don't be shy." Richardson's voice is dripping with false pity and he jerks his head away, scraping his neck on the crowbar's tips. "Everything's going to be all right, sweetheart."

Shuuu. Shuuu.

Jason knows that noise-it's someone dragging themselves across gritty tiles. He squeezes his eyes shut. Easier to keep reminding himself that none of this is real. The chain is real. The pain in his shoulders is real. F-focus on the pain.

Grasping fingers

"TAKE OUT YOUR EYES AND MAIL 'EM TO BATSY IN A JAR! WOULDN'T THAT BE FUNNY?"

grip his legs and whomever they belong to uses him as a lever to get themselves up, the added weight sending waves of pain rippling through his shoulders.

"The last one I had wasn't here for five minutes." Scarecrow's hissing. "But you…what was it, four months before he got a new one?"

"Shut up." Shit, rookie mistake…c'mon, you're better than this…

Scarecrow laughs again and brushes his needles against Jason's cheek. Hands grip his shoulders and he can feel familiar yellow teeth by his ear.

"He's right, Todders. That's why I'm here, to take you home!"

N-no, no, Crane hates the clown, he wouldn't call him, he wouldn't, he's not here, he's not real-

The crowbar smacks into his ribs again, cracking one and sending him swinging against the

NOT REAL NOT REAL FOR FUCK'S SAKE

Joker. He hasn't even gotten his breath back before Richardson lines up another swing, this one taking his legs out from under him and leaving his shoulders to support him. Joker throws his arms around his shoulders and hangs on, head against Jason's neck.

He's not here he's not he's not

"You were a bad boy, running away like that. I've been worried SICK!"

The Joker's fingers clench his jaw and he shakes his head to try and dislodge them. They only dig in deeper.

"What do you see, hm? What keeps you up at night?"

"Please…" He doesn't mean to, it's never gotten him anywhere anyway, but…he doesn't want…he can't, not again, not this…

The crowbar scuffs at the ground and there's a soft spt! from somewhere in front of him. He flinches back because he knows that sound please not again.

"I see why he didn't bother. You're nothing but a squalling brat."

The Joker cackles, breath hot against his ear and fingers poking into his mouth, getting a better grip no no please no get off get off-

Dad please I'll be better I promise just please come get me

There's a flurry of pain-back, ribs, kneecaps, elbows-and by the time Richardson backs off he can't even try to support his weight, not like this, not with the clown hanging off him.

"Look at me."

No no eyes shut EYES SHUT

It's not the Joker's fingers that grip his jaw, it's Scarecrow's, cold and riddled with small scars.

"Look. At. Me."

His eyes open without permission. Yellow searchlights gaze back and what little he can see of Scarecrow's face grins widely, stitches stretching.

"You see him, don't you?" Something's glowing on the other side of the room. "Answer me!"

He spits out a mouthful of blood instead. The glowing thing moves closer.

"Screw you." he says, or tries to say. He regrets it a second later when Richardson hits him hard enough to break his elbow. Everything whites out and he tries to grasp the chains, to get the weight off, but his hands aren't doing their goddamn job.

"It's all right to be afraid." Scarecrow whispers. "You should be."

Yellow eyes and the glowing thing come back into hazy focus. The weight of the clown has left him but he's trembling, soaked in sweat. 'Least before he could…could see him, most'a the time…but now…

He drops, chains rattling to the ground beside his still-bound hands. He should get up, get outta here, but his legs refuse to do anything but twitch. Scarecrow looms over him and he tries to draw back with a choked, "Get away…"

"Shh." Behind him, the glowing thing reveals itself to be in his hand. "Everything's going to be all right now."

Glowing thing's a branding iron not again he doesn't want this no more no more please Bruce where are you?

CRA-ASH!

The Joker vanishes like smoke and Scarecrow whirls. The shadows join together as one.

"He's not here for you, Todders!" The Joker's lying on the floor with him, hands caressing his face. "Say bye-bye to Daddy!"

"Crane-"

Blam!

Pain. Sudden, searing agony that makes the Joker fall over laughing, limbs flailing like a dying bug's. Hot blood splashes across his lips when he tries to beg Bruce not to leave him.

"Might want to do something." Richardson warns from somewhere over his head. "Sounds like I hit something important."

The Joker throws purple hands over his eyes, fingers pressing around the sockets, and screams, "SAY NIGHTY-NIGHT, KID!"

Then there's nothing.

THE END