A/N: Jason chapter. F-bombs aplenty.


Monsters don't exist. Thirteen steps. That's all that separated me from the light that bled from under my mother's door. I don't recall what had made me believe that something was lurking just beneath my bed; I just remember making a break for it, praying that when I burst through that door, the light would banish anything that stalked me.

My lungs were so full that it made my chest ache, I wanted to call out to her, and yet all I could manage to do was crash through her bedroom door and sink to my knees. My t-shirt clad mother whirled on her heel. "Del? Honey, what's wrong?"

I could only watch her through a tear soaked blur as she pulled the French doors to the backyard ajar. "Mama…it's there. It's under my bed!" The air came rushing out of me, causing my lungs to shudder and grasp at the air; it only summoned my mother closer, marking the carpet with the prints of her bare feet.

"Oh, Sweetheart." I was wrapped in her arms from the second she crouched in front of me. "Maybe we shouldn't be watching scary movies before bed." Pressed into her I could feel flutter of her voice, soft and sort of trembling with a laugh. I wanted to yell at her for laughing at me. But with tears tickling my cheeks I could only press my face into her shirt.

"I want Jethro! He'd make it go away." My mother felt as though she was crumbling around me. Jethro was my mother's dog. A dog that had once belonged to a grandfather I'd never met. But he was already growing gray by the time I had entered this world. And at this age…all I understood was that he was never coming back.

"I'm sure he would." Her voice was thick in my ear, as if she was trying to swallow a sudden knot away. I had been unscathed without the old creature these last few months. My mother…I think that was another story entirely. "Now deep breath." At her command, my lungs finally inhaled, sucking up the air greedily until I thought they would pop like a pair of balloons.

"Can you check? Please? Please Mama?"

My mother's hands might have been circling my back, but her gaze had flickered to the still cracked door. Only my croaking words seemed to summon her back to me. I half expected her to let me crawl in bed with her like she had done so many times before. But my mother didn't offer, she simply rose to her feet and went to her desk, her lip sinking between her teeth as she dug into one of the cavernous drawers.

I remember peering into the backyard, wondering just what it was my mother was looking at, but just as my eyes tried to make sense of the shapes, my mother unearthed a flashlight and something made of black and yellow fabric. I recognized the shape that was held together by her neat stitches. The stuffed thing even had bat ears and a cape.

With Batman in the crook of my arm and my hand wrapped in my mother's cool fingers she steered me back into the pitch black hall, I could only watch her shadow peer over her shoulder as she pulled her own bedroom door to a crack, letting that sliver of light guide us all the way to my bedroom.

Back in the dark space that I knew so well, I watched my mother bend down by the bed. "Hmm…I see a few rabid dust bunnies." With a pat of her hand on the rug, I worked myself to my knees preparing myself for the worst…if the worst could be broken down to a few Legos a missing sock and miscellaneous Barbie shoes. "What do you think?"

"I don't see anything." I whispered, feeling my face flush as my mother frowned at the stuff under my bed.

"I don't think anything would want to be under there." My mother said, staggering to her feet. With her words still hanging in the air she held the flashlight out to me. "I think you and Bats can check out the closet."

As I stared at the closet, I could feel my fingers fisting around the metal body of the flashlight and yet I couldn't move from my spot on the rug. "But-but what if-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

With Batman still hanging in my arm, my fingers hesitated on the cold knob. What if something was in there? What if it came out? What would I do then? It's not like I had a big ol' dog to chase things away anymore.

"It's okay."

At her words I ripped the door open,shutting my eyes as I braced myself for whatever might come shooting out. But nothing touched me. Blinking I could only stare at the circle of light that had reached the back of my closet. Nothing hung in there but my sweaters and coats. The usual suspects. "There's…nothing." I mumbled, closing the door as slowly as I could, as if I were waiting to see the hangers wriggle in the small sliver of light. Nothing happened.

"So, anything suspicious?"

I shook my head as I clawed my way back into my bed, feeling the mattress sink under my mother's weight. "Monsters don't exist." The words had me brimming with relief by the time I had burrowed back in to my warm bed. "Your imagination was just playing tricks on you, Honey, that's all." Mama added, the tips of her fingers gently brushing the hair from my face. "I love you more than what?"

"All the stars."

With a kiss on my forehead she left me in the dark. "You want to keep the flashlight?" She asked, her green eyes looking glossy and black in the dimness of the hall. I could only press the new doll tighter into my chest. It might look like a mini Batman, but it smelled like her.

"I've got Batman now. I think…I think I'll be okay."

Trading blow kisses, my mother closed the door behind her, leaving me to settle with the shadows that stretched out across my walls. Monsters don't exist. Somewhere beyond the soft sound of my mother's whispers, the darkness took me completely. It wasn't a lie…but it certainly wasn't the truth.

Monsters don't exist. It eased my mind all those years ago…but now? Now I know better. And it's more terrifying than anything I feared as a child. We've taught ourselves to fear the creatures born of our imaginations. But what about the things that crawl out of the darkest part of a human soul? Are we just giving ourselves false reassurance? Monsters exist—I've seen them.


This hazy light of manmade stars and towers was an unfamiliar one, as strange and unknown as the couch she found herself slouched on, but the girl steeled herself, trying to reel in her swimming head as she worked herself to her feet.

For a split second Del had almost fooled herself into thinking she had somehow ended up in the penthouse. Everything was straight lined and clean cut, but the space was too narrow. Mind still abuzz with the fringe of a headache, she staggered her way to the view, hoping to recognize something, but not even Wayne Tower rose up from the darkness.

"What? You're not walking around like you own the joint?"

The echo of Jason's voice had the girl lifting her head, watching him wander down a flight of metal stairs. Even in this faint light, she could make out every curve of muscle and every white line mark that a monster had left behind. Did he always have so many scars?

"It's what you Waynes normally do." He added with a tilt of his head. "Hey, my eyes are up here."

WHAT?!

The creep of a flush tickled its way up her neck and into her cheeks as she brought her eyes from the marred flesh up to a pair of eyes that were so dark they were hardly blue at all. "That's not-"

"Yeah, yeah."

Del could feel her fingers going numb as she pressed them against the glass, aware that the faint gleam around her had grown dim in his lanky shadow. "Think highly of yourself don't you? I wasn't-"

The words splintered into silence when her face was suddenly caught in one of his massive hands. "Tell that to this cute little blush you've got going on." He whispered, tilting her head in the light, his fingers cold on her face. "Face it cupcake, you were busted." No sooner had the touch of his breath left her cheek did she feel her nails biting into her palm. The moment she threw her fist, her face became squashed into the glass. She could feel his ragged palm against her fist while her other arm was caught by the weight of her own body. "You know curiosity killed the cat."

"I'm a bat." Maybe the words would have been more imposing if they weren't leaving spots of fog in their wake or for that matter if she wasn't awkwardly pinned to the window with his weight crushing down on her.

"Some bat…" With a shove she toppled to the floor, too busy making her lungs inflate with a painful gasp to catch herself completely. Okay, so he was still a major butthead.

"What's this?"

"You're still an asshole-"

But as Del worked herself back up, only to find her bracelet dangling from his fingers, the words stuck there. "Jase, give it back!"

"Give it back." He teased, yanking it above her swiping fingers. But when the girl just stopped completely and stared at him with those blue damn eyes, it brought a ragged sigh from him. "Oh, Jesus, don't be a baby, Pipsqueak." With that he tossed the charm bracelet at her feet, reminding himself that his t-shirt was still fisted in his hand.

"There's some League of Assassins gear on the coffee table, and I took the liberty of stealing back your harness thing." He said, watching her reflection scramble for the bracelet as if it were precious or something. "I can't be seen with Baby-Bat." Hearing her snap up the items he simply pointed to the bathroom.

What part of this was a good idea? With her cheek held captive by her jaw, Del didn't dare utter another word. "I'm not on it, am I?" The question stopped her, forcing her to clasp down on the tiny charms until they were digging into her skin.

"No."

"I see, die and become an afterthought. I guess he turned you into an emotional flunky too-"

"Excuse me?! Dad thinks about you all the time! He never took on another Robin! Tonight was the first time in years-"

"Wasn't him…was it?" But her silence had all the answers he could ever need. "The original Boy Wonder. Figures." It was enough to make him turn toward her. "Hurry up. The sooner we do this, the sooner I can get you the fuck away from me."


The darkness had all but faded to a dusky gray, soon the sun would start to peak over the horizon, it didn't give much time to dally here, and yet, as Delilah stood there, peering up, she could only see the empty space of where a gargoyle should have been. Of course any remnants of the crumbled stature would have been scattered by now, swallowed by this aging city. Batman was growing older…and so was Gotham. Why else would it have come down so easily when they collided?

"Yo! Get the lead out of your ass!"

Jason's snapping voice forced her gaze from the empty pedestal, with a roll of her eyes she fired her grappling guns, and rocketed up the side of the building, pulling the anchors free with a backflip over the ledge of the roof.

It only earned her a look of disgust as she pulled herself from her crouch. "Dickhead teach you that?"

"No." Of course, that was only half accurate.

"The boyfriend then."

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Don't get your panties in a bunch. Start looking for things that don't belong."

You're the one with who has their underwear in a wad. Del could feel her teeth digging into her lip as she bit down on her words; instead she set her eyes on the broken pedestal. Right here. "He's a more helpful than you are." She blurted, crouching to get a closer look. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jason's head pop up, face twisted.

"Crime is down because of me. So you're fucking welcome. That kid has no business being Robin."

Rolling a piece of broken stone in her glove, the girl forced herself to take a deeper breath. "You're killing them, Jason."

"What? Are you going to tell me you cry over criminals now? As I recall, you came pretty close to bashing St. James's head in. Don't even go there with me." Feeling the bile rise in her throat, she let the piece of stone fall to her feet. Yes, she had almost crossed that line…it would have been so easy.

"It-"

"Does he deserve to live? Tell me, does the man who destroyed your mother deserve to live?!"

"NO!"

"Then shut the fuck up."

"Fuck you! Yes, I could've killed him! God knows I've dreamed of killing him!" she cried, her voice all but swallowed by the sound of the clock tower as it bellowed over city. One. Two. Three. Four. "It won't bring her back! And it sure as shit wouldn't fix me!" Del could feel the blood rushing to her face as her voice echoed over the dying chimes. "I just- I don't want to know what kind of monster I have living inside me." The whisper clung into the air in frosty white clouds, proof that they existed no matter how softly spoken.

"Oh, so now anyone who kills is a monster?"

"No. Everyone has one. Only some people feed it to the point it consumes them entirely" She murmured, more than aware that he was watching her sweep the sleet away with her fingers. "Forget it." She whispered tilting her head as something in the creases of the tile caught her eye. Clay?

"What'cha got?"

"I'm not sure, I think its clay or something…you got a test tube?"

No sooner had the man handed her a vile, did he snatch the sample from her. "I'll take that."

"I've got better facilities." But the sample only disappeared into his coat.

"Like hell. Someone's using me as their scapegoat, I want to know who."

She didn't hear a sound, not at first. Her fingers were crawling through the air, tempted to pick his pocket, when his body jolted. It only took a split second to know the tacky spray that hit her in the face, glancing up she could see blood rupturing from the new hole in Jason's body, filling his shirt with wide red rings. She couldn't get his name past her lips before he dove on top of her.

Cheek mashed into the concrete, Del had no choice but to endure the aching fire around her lungs as she forced herself to breathe, forced herself to swallow gulps of air that smelled of blood, gunpowder and leather. "Didn't you suit up?!" But the cry was practically muffled by the sound of zipping bullets and the warm cloud of Jason's steady exhales.

"You aren't exactly bullet proof either." No. She was wearing someone else's skin, trapped under the body of a bleeding man and had no gear to speak of. Oh, yeah, really thought this one through, Del! The chiding thought vanished the moment she felt a rain of plaster and stone. The bullets were chipping the ledge, any closer and they would be chipping something else.

Feeling a gun scrape up her back, the girl could feel her lungs collapsing, holding whatever breath she had left as tight as they could, and yet Jason seemed to be breathing easily. "Ears." Despite the warning, not even the flesh of her palms could protect her eardrums as the gun exploded just inches from her head. It plunged the entire world into a droning ring. Sure, she could feel Jason's words vibrating in his chest, but could her ears decipher it over the shrill screech in her ears? No. Even as Jason slid off of her and pushed her to the side it was like it was all happening in slow motion.

Ducking under the lip of the roof, Del rolled to her back as the world of sound began to work its way back to her. At a glance she could see a dark shape spiraling from the building across the street. Dead. She could hear the chaos mounting below in a bubble of horns and screams, but that never stopped Jason from returning fire. Had it not been for the flash of gunfire, she wouldn't know there were two left.

Beside her Jason cursed as he rolled to his back, fingers furiously working a fresh magazine out of his pocket before jamming it home. What can I do? I have to do something! Looking down at her harness she found her lips frowning, damn if it hadn't been picked clean. But what was weighing down her thigh? Oxygen?

The sound of metal scraping into the stone behind her head had her dragging her eyes away from the curious canister. Peering over she could see the gleam of a grappling hook. If something didn't happen fast, someone was going to make it across in a matter of seconds. With her heart pounding in hear ears, Del fumbled for the canister. There was a reason she didn't travel with oxygen tanks this large.

Rolling to her side, she snagged the gun from Jason, trying not to focus on the uncertainty that began to bubble up the moment the heavy weight was completely in her hands. She didn't have the time for it, not when she could hear someone skidding on the line. With the gun trembling in her hands, the girl heaved the tank toward them, lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. Pop! Pop! BANG! The tank exploded into a giant plume of smoke.

"Fuck!" Del hit the roof with a thud, feeling the grooves of the concrete tiles scraping into her body as the shrapnel whistled over their heads. "Stupid kamikaze bat!" With his weight squashing her down, Jason pried the gun from her fingers as she weaseled her way out from under him. In the cover of smoke she found herself fisting her fingers into the collar of his shirt and coat, attempting to drag him toward the exit.

"COME ON!"

But despite her tugging, Jason Todd simply raised his gun and fired. The echo of the last round had barely begun to fade from the air when he scrambled to his feet, grabbing her by the back of her shirt and yanking her forward. "You come on!"

Her feet had just made it to the ground when she heard the scream of sirens. The bubble of tension had finally burst, spilling chaos into the street in the form of three dead bodies. And all Jason was doing was shoving her at his bike. "Did you have to-"

"YES! You don't know these people, Del!" When he forced her arms around him, it took everything she had not to rip her arms away. "Hold on!" The second the bike rocketed forward, she almost forgot about the feel of his blood soaking through her sleeves. Jesus, he's still bleeding.

"Jase, you need help! Alfred can help you!" She cried, half terrified that her voice would get lost in the sound of the bike and the battering wind as he cut through the streets, making a beeline for the highway.

"HELL NO! I'm not going there!"

"Jason!"

"NO!"

"Swallow your pride you dumb ass! You can bleed out this way!"

"You honestly think someone isn't watching that house?! I said NO!"

All the curses in the world fizzled at her lips. Think, Del. He needs help, and he needs help now. "Take the next exit!"

"Why?!"

"Just do it! I know where to go!"


"Oh, shit. No, Del. Not here."

"You haven't got a choice." Del hissed, half afraid her voice would wake the quiet street as the bike rolled into the sleet covered driveway. Working herself off the bike, she snagged one of his arms and slung it around her shoulder, allowing him to stagger his way up the walkway. He's lost so much blood he can't even walk straight.

Easing him onto the porch she made short work of fishing and extra key from inside the porch light.

"The bike, it can't-"

"Chill. This isn't my first rodeo. I know how to hide from people."

"Have you even been to a rodeo? You do know what they are, right?"

"Mom used to say it, so sue me." She grumbled helping him through the door. She let him go for a moment. Long enough to shut the door and disarm the alarm system. Long enough to inhale what was left of life that had been tucked under long white sheets. Long enough for the man to nearly stumble his way to the floor. "Oh, no you don't." she huffed, racing to catching him before he collapsed completely. Half holding him up, half dragging him, she counted the steps to the master bedroom. It was the only space that had a mattress big enough to accommodate a man his size.

"Did it have to be...here?" Jason croaked as she let him slink down on the edge. He could see Del's thin brown brows knitting together as she helped him out of the leather coat.

"Jase, where else could you go?" she asked, feeling the blood in his shirt squish under her fingers as she gave him a gentle nudge to lay back.

"Why do you call me that?" He mumbled, letting his eyes adjust to the light as it flooded the room. God he was so tired, he could have closed his eyes and napped right here had it not been for the noise Pipsqueak made. Oh, and the bullet holes, let's not forget those little bastards.

"I don't know…you didn't seem to mind before."

"I don't I guess." He hissed, feeling the cold touch of scissors skating across his chest. The shirt peeled from him like a saturated piece of skin.

"Jesus…" The soft word had his eyes moving from her down to his chest. Oh look. Three holes.

"It's not that bad." He muttered, regretting the very idea of lifting his head. Hell even that simple action made the room sort of spin, so he just closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her footsteps on the carpet. "You're the only one who does…call me that I mean."

"Here, take these."

He could only stare at the little cup of pills dubiously. "And just what are these?" Just how much shit did she have squirreled away in this little house?

"Drugs."

The word had his lips cracking in a slow smile. "Smartass."

"Alfred cocktail. Help the blood clot and take the edge off the pain. I want slow the bleeding first. Then I'm going to hide the bike, and then we'll see what we can do about the bullets." She answered, shrugging at him when his dark blue eyes simply narrowed at her. But he relived her of the cup, and tossed his head back.

He could feel his brain trying to fall into a fuzzy state of sleep, and yet every time he felt the warm touch of a rag, his eyes would flick right back open. "Shirtless…again."

"Hey! I was not-"

"It's the scars…I know." He said with a sigh, watching her make another trip to the bathroom to wring the cloth out. Fuck, why did his tongue feel so loose? Why did he care for that matter? Strange, the more he tried to think about it, the more he realized…he didn't. There was not one single fuck to give. Maybe it had everything to do with this haze he was sinking into. The pills? Hell, maybe. Wait…still don't give a fuck.

"I'm gonna go hide the bike. Don't move."

"Where…where the fuck am I going to go? Some bat you are."

He could see her looming in the doorway, like a shadow on the edge of his vision. "I'm the bat who's going to save your ass."

"That makes one of you…" But was she still there? Was it her he was really talking to? Oh hell. He wasn't even sure anymore. He could only listen, trying to pin point her voice as it whispered from the hall.

"Alfred…I need your help. I need to remove a couple of bullets from someone's chest…I need you to walk me through it via video…please, I'll explain everything when I get back." Well, at least she had enough brains to ask for help. He was going to let a novice cut into him? Shit. Hold it, did he care? Nope.

From that moment, everything kind of blurred together, though there were times he was sure he could hear the voice of an old man he once knew. He'd pry his eyes open, only to find the Pipsqueak still hovering over him. Her eyes would meet his…and then…and then there was nothing, nothing but the sound of metal falling to the floor.

It was the feel of cold fingertips on his chest that made his eyes fly open. "Your hands are cold." He complained, watching her unravel the gauze with her long fingers.

"Sorry."

His hand felt like lead as he lifted it, even when he laid it on her resting fingers, pressing the small pads into the raised scar that traveled from his shoulder down his chest. "Crowbar."

The croaked word startled her, and even though she wanted to, she couldn't free her hand from his heavy touch. "I know." She knew everything; she knew that damn clown had beaten him within an inch of his life. She knew he had left Jason and his biological mother trapped in a building with a bomb. Batman came for them-but he came too late. "I did manage to break his nose a while back."

The words seemed to summon a chuckle from him, a deep throaty kind of sound that should've hurt. "I saw…in the paper. I framed that mother fucker."

"I did too. It's hanging in the bat-cave." She added, tilting her head at him as his laughter slowly became something short of a whimper.

"Why…why hasn't he killed him? Wasn't I—wasn't I enough?" The soft choking plea caught her off guard, and by the wide eyed look on his face, it caught him off guard the most.

"He doesn't kill them, Jason. Not for you—or me." she whispered, closing her eyes so she couldn't see the sheen of unshed tears glossing over his eyes. "He's come close; he's come close so many times. He wants to. But if he kills the Joker, it's like he's killing a part of himself. So much of him has already died…" She said, finally lifting her lashes. "A part of him died with his parents, he lost a part of himself with my mother, but you...you're death took the biggest piece yet."

Pulling her hand free, she smeared tear tracks on his face. "It's that monster, Jase. The second he takes a life it's going to consume him. I told you, we all have one...even him." She whispered, reminding herself she wasn't done wrapping him up. "Now if Karma were to push that fucking clown off of Mount Everest that'd be different."

"Jesus, you even talk like her." Jason rambled, feeling his muscles quiver under the touch of cold adhesive tape. God, why couldn't he just shut up? Why the fuck was his tongue just wagging away? Fuck! If it was this loose maybe it would just fall out!

"Who?"

Fucking shit! Did she have to look at him with that face? Don't say it, don't say it, you putz.

"Your mom." Aw, fuck.

But it only had Del tilting her head. "My mom? You…"

"Yeah, me and Alfred ended up getting the flu together. So here we were puking our fucking brains out." When he stopped to snort, Delilah only knitted her brows. One second crying, next laughing. Must be stoned. "And where's Bats and Nightwing you ask? Long fucking gone! They were off on another hemisphere. So what does the boss man do? He calls your mom…" The words slid from his mouth as Del propped her hands on her hips. "See! That! That's the kind of shit she'd do!"

"So he called my mom…" At that moment Delilah Wayne wanted nothing more than to get the loose lipped Jason Todd back on track, even if she had to reel him in a couple prodding words. This was her mother he was talking about!

"Yeah, she stayed with us for a week, dealing with the puke and the snot. She'd play the piano for Alfred when he was lucid, made us soup—which was bomb by the way."

"A southern woman for you." But her words only had Jason pointing at her.

"Hey, hey, shut your cake-hole, I'm telling the story. Anyway! She let me camp out on the couch and would watch movies with me…like Bruce used to do when he'd actually take the night off." He paid to mind to the girl who was all but frozen in place, staring at him as if he'd lost his senses completely. Finding his way back to his thoughts, Jason's lips pulled. "I liked your mom, she was good to me." he added, suddenly unsure about the softeness in his voice. He was capable of that? Say what? "I especially liked her because she wasn't afraid to tell Bruce off."

"Now, that I do believe." Del said, as she began to collect all the bloody sheets and gauze. Would her father take a night off now? Hah. Not if he could help it.

"I was supposed to be there."

He could see her paused in the doorway with that red ball of garbage in her hands, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. "She noticed some whack jobs poking around the house a couple weeks before…so we took turns with watch. It dragged on for a while. Nothing was happening, no one showed." God, why did his mouth feel like it was stuffed with cotton?

"It was my shift—and I blew it off. When Bats made it back and found me at home he reamed my ass with one of his 'I'm disappointed in you' lectures and stormed off." There was a soft rattle in the room, if he dared to look at her maybe he'd see her hands shaking. "He went straight there I guess…but it was too late, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." The word came out like a squeak and yet it fell on him like a ton of bricks.

"I should have been there. If I had done what I was supposed to…she'd still be alive." When Jason finally opened his lashes and forced himself to look toward the door, she was gone, the sound of her footsteps chasing her down the hall. "I'm sorry…" She didn't return right away. It gave him nothing to do but close his eyes and wish like hell he could take the words back.


"Hey."

The soft push of thin fingers on his shoulder jarred him from his dreamless sleep, waking him slowly letting him smell the scent of soap and shampoo before he could see her leaning over him in a set of clothes he was sure she wasn't wearing before.

"I want you to listen to me, Jason Todd." The words scraped their way out of her throat, and no matter what Del did she couldn't get the knot to vanish. "I don't blame you for my mom, you understand?" Of course it would be a lie if to say she didn't suddenly think about what her life would have been like. Maybe a small part of her would blame him, but she was trying like hell to uncurl its fingers her mind. "Mom wouldn't blame you. You were fourteen. You were just a kid."

"Oh, and you're an adult?" At his words her fingers started to recoil from him as her body jerked upright, but his thick hand reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, pressing the charms of her bracelet into her arm. "He recruits children. You start out partners, but if you're not careful you're just going to end up one of his broken toy soldiers."

Del tried to tug her arm away, but his fingers only gripped tighter. "At least he can't actually fire you, I mean, fuck, you're related."

"Jason..."

How could she do that? How could she be so gentle with him? Especially after his wagging tongue decided to tell her nearly everything? How the hell could she look at him with those pale blue eyes like he was breaking her heart? "Why the hell do you care so much?! I'm not your brother. You hardly knew me!"

"Because they cared about you in their own crazy way. Because you were a Robin who very well could have been my brother -"With a hard tug he pulled her closer, until her face was just mere inches from his with that wide eyed deer stare.

"I'm not your brother. Don't put me in the same boat as Dickhead." Feeling the indents of the charms on her wrist, he let his eyes fall to the small bracelet. "And why the hell am I not on here?" It floored him a little by how much he gave a shit about something so small. Why the fuck was it such a big deal? But then again, maybe a small part of him wanted to see proof that someone at least thought of him after all this time.

"I just…I never found the right pieces for you." It had to be Pipsqueak.

"I kinda want to kiss you, and I have no idea why." That was okay-neither did the rest of his brain. But as he pulled her face closer, half expecting to feel her lips on his, she pressed her fingers to his mouth.

"No way, Stoney Baloney."

"I am stoned." He uttered, his lips twitching against her fingers as he let his hands fall from her. That had to be why his brain was even half way okay with this idea. Never mind that she was kinda cute, if he liked bitchy socialites with no boobs to speak of. Or that she seemed to care about him. Eh, she had to be half insane. Then again she did run around this city dressed like a bat. Yep, half insane-just like the rest of them.

Flopping back, he could only lay there, watching her as she scooped his coat from the floor. The long tendrils of wavy brown hair were conveniently hiding whatever kind of face she might have been making as she pulled a gun from the inside pocket and set it on the nightstand beside him. "Just in case."

"First time you actually shot a gun…wasn't it?"

"That obvious?"

"One, you jerked the trigger. Two, you didn't hit your target on the first shot. Doesn't sound like that batsy perfection to me. But I'll at least give you props for making something blow up."

"A lot of good it did." She muttered, as her fingers combed the pockets. Maybe he should have stopped her, but after all of this what was the point?

"You don't understand. It was a test. I kill them-I'm still doing exactly as I should. They kill me? Oh, well, at least the problem was solved."

Her head popped up at his words. Like Damian. Remembering where her hand was she pulled out the first thing she found. It wasn't the small plastic tube she was looking for, but a softly bent envelope. The second she spotted the pink crayon she found her lips frowning. Sissy's letter.

"It fell out of your coat." He said easily, stretching his arms out before settling them under his head. What? No pillow in this place? "You know what she wants don't you?"

"Yes…" The word was half whisper half croak, but instead of looking up at him, she stuffed the letter in her own pocket. "And believe me, I will find out who's responsible…I promised."

"You Waynes and your promises."

"The same people who ripped her family from her took my mother, you bet your ass It's a promise I'm going to keep, even if it-"

"Kills you?" Silence. "Being dead isn't any fun, Pipsqueak." Not that he could actually remember what that was like.

"Jase…"

The man tore his eyes from the ceiling. "Hmm?"

"In the tunnels…Tim said you turned and ran the second you guys heard the shots…"

Oh? So it's a Tim? Tim's wearing my old patch now?"

Geez, not this again. A tiny part of her wanted to say, 'No, actually, that would be Damian', but of course her common sense told her not to pour gas on the fire. "Oh, get off it! Did you or didn't you?!"

"Well…yeah. I couldn't have you full of bullet holes. I still owed you…wait—still do. Shit." Now he really owed her. Watching her pull the sample tube from his coat, he opened his mouth to protest when the sound of the front door opening cut through anything he might have had coming to his mouth.

"Miss Wayne?"

"Back here, Alfred." Del could see Jason's dark blue eyes widening as grimace rolled across his face.

"I hate you." He growled. He didn't want to see Alfred, not like this.

"He came to take me home." She said tilting her head to the blinking alarm clock. Didn't he realize it was pushing closer to five? "But I think he also brought you a change of clothes and breakfast." Jason's face went slack. Oh, weren't expecting that were you? "If I leave you, are you going to be okay? I mean, there's electric, hot water and fresh towels, but are you going to be safe?"

"Yeah, you little turd. I'll be fine. Go before he comes back here." She was worried about his safety? him?! Wasn't she the one who was always trying to get herself killed? Or maybe it was just his current state she was worried about...eh, if there were more of Talia's men they would have popped up by now. Fuck He'd have to slink his way to Talia eventually. The thought made him mash his teeth together. Oh, the sooner he could cut those strings the better. Turd? Huh, was that the best he could come up with?

But Delilah was already slipping out into the hall. "Your bike is in the garage behind the boxes. I want my coat back by the way!"

"It's a fucking coat!" He howled, his voice chasing after her.

"Don't even go there with me; it's my favorite! And the boots! I want those back too!"

"Anything else, Your Highness?!"

"Yeah! Get some sleep you jerk! I'll come to collect soon enough." A Wayne with owed favors? Oh, he had no doubt that she would.


Sometime in the wee hours of third shift...


"Don't they know what hour it is?"

"Didn't think you would mind, it's a free trip out of your cell."

Ah, the man had a good point. With his shackles dragging across the scaffolding, Joker shuffled between the two armed nitwits. Just who wanted to see him at this hour? Not even Batsy would make a house call during a shift change. The thought had his lips twisting. It had to be someone with lots of money and a bit of fun in mind. Oh, he might enjoy this after all.

In the flicker yellow light of the visitation room, he found a strangely familiar redhead seated at the table. He kept his eyes on her; after all, she was better looking than the black clad individuals she had brought with her. Ninjas. Hah.

"Ooh, a costume party!"

The bombshell didn't even so much as smirk, she simply kicked out the empty metal chair closest to him, dismissing the guards with a wave of her fingers. "So, you want to go to a party, do you?" She asked, clouding the room with a smoky voice. Hot yes, deadly too, he knew that much. "Then I have something that might be interesting to you." The woman propped her chin on her hands, her emerald colored eyes watching every little move he made as he sank into the chair.

"Do tell."

With that the woman slung the paper at her elbow toward him. "Every party needs a little entertainment."

Letting his eyes glance at the latest copy of Gotham's gossip rag, he found a candid picture of a girl who was vaguely familiar. So familiar it made his nose itch. 'Sweet Sixteen on the horizon! Bash of year still to come!' the headline cried.

"That's if you're interested of course." She added, curling her long fingers as she eyed her nails, but those eyes quickly fell back on him. "If not, you can continue to rot away in your cell."

The clown's lips curled, revealing the perfectly yellow teeth behind the wide winding smile. "Every birthday party needs a clown. So what do you have in mind, Toots?"