Here's the next chapter, let me know any comments you have in the review section. My writing is dependent on reviews , so please let me know your thoughts! Also, if you would like to see anything in particular happen or any other DC heroes to appear let me know in your review! I'm open to ideas.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything DC does, my only characters are the inmates of my original design. The Batman characters are DCs… 8)
Chapter 2
As expected the first night was a complete and utter bitch for them. While the members of the Batclan had been safeguarded from the wrath of the other inmates for the night... well, the other fish were not so lucky. Their anguished screams echoed through the empty halls, behind the bars about twenty new inmates were being beaten, raped, or murdered. On Jason's first night he hadn't been able to sleep because of, y'know, self-preservation and all.
After all the attacks against him had ended in frankly excruciating death, the other inmates had learned to steer clear of him. It wasn't even about proving that he could kill them; in here it was about proving that no matter how much damage you took none of it would break you. True, in most of his fights he'd held back so none of the others would know what he could do – really, so that the guards wouldn't know. When they first captured him he was simply Jason Todd, an escaped criminal. So… He had to make sure no one found out about his old, nightly extracurriculars.
Anyways, he had to keep a close eye on the others. There are no medical teams in this place, so if you get into a fight that draws blood chances are you're going to be dead within a week – if you aren't killed outright.
There was one TV in the entire place and it displayed the same message over and over… "Surrender. Your world is broken, your heroes are gone, and your lives are forfeit. Those that wish to serve the will of Korshook, turn yourselves in and become a believer. Enter the fold and experience a world without war, famine, disease, or disagreeable violence - " It went on to show video clips of the JLAs final hours, the loss of the majority of its members. Jason had to look away.
What the bastards weren't telling the people was that by 'surrendering' they would be placed in ghettos, forced to work nonstop, and murdered outright for insubordination. Of course, the only way to attain the whole 'disease-free' lemony fresh world was to cull the herds, AKA, the people. Every time the population was growing too quickly. It was like a twisted dystopia of Ra's Al Ghul's making. Jason had no doubt that if earth did manage to survive this catastrophe the people would become much more fearful of their neighbors. There would be widespread terror, violence, and, eventually, a rally against anything and anyone alien to Earth. Well, except maybe alien weaponry. The people would be all too happy to take that.
Jason sighed heavily. He climbed out of his bunk and analyzed his surroundings. Bruce and Damian (otherwise known as Daren and Byron), had chosen to stay in his cell while Dick and Tim (Dean and Travis) stayed with Barracks. The cell doors opened, intended on being a wake-up call. Not that anyone here needed it, with all the commotion of last night very few had actually slept. Jason was quite proud; he'd gotten a full four hours. Judging from his family's groggy footsteps and the dark circles forming under their eyes, they hadn't slept peacefully.
Damian was the first to speak, "Is it like that every night?"
Jason sighed, "Sometimes, Little D. The noise is usually at a halfway manageable level, but last night was the first time we've had fresh blood in weeks, so it was… hectic. Tonight will be no better, so be prepared." The boy groaned, leaning heavily into Bruce's side.
As usual, Barracks was at the 'door' to his cell ASAP, followed momentarily by Dick and Tim. The sleep deprivation wasn't as evident on the former as it was on the latter. It was going to be hell to keep them all together until the day was out.
Barracks stared at him expressionlessly, waiting for the day's procedure to be read out to him. "All right, the gangs all here." Jason took out his quarter and began to spin it between his fingers, "first things first, kiddies. Do NOT let Daren out of your sights for any reason. I don't care how good of a fighter he is, things have changed. Most of the scum in here knows something about fighting and they won't hesitate to kill. Rule number two," Jason held up two fingers, "stay away from crowds. Chances are that's a gang looking to tear you limb from limb. I'll point out the major players today, but there are power struggles every day so be aware and get out of the way before you're caught in the cross-fire." Jason took a breath, taking the opportunity to scan his surroundings and his listeners. "Final rule: Darwin wins. Don't be stupid. Don't run your mouth," he looked directly at Damian. "Don't show off," Now Dick. "Don't get cocky, figuratively or literally," Tim. "And don't think your moral code has any merit here." Finally Jason's blue-green eyes were resting on Bruce's royal blue ones. "If someone attacks you and I'm not around… You best finish them off. If you don't, you'll be painting a target on your back." His gaze never wavered from Bruce's.
"Is this some stupid way of yours to shove your ideals on us? 'Cause I'm not buying it," Tim spat.
"Look, kid, There are no medics to come in here if you're hurt. There are no supplies to stop infection. If you so much as scrape someone and walk away from a fight the possibility you're living with for that person is a conviction to a slow death. Guess what that gets you; hate from any friends that guy had. It also gets you a pretty little stamp saying 'Will not kill, please attack me,' but by all means, go ahead and keep condemning my tactics."
Jason smirked as Tim looked away.
"Ethics aside, we need to decide how to get out of here," Dick said slowly.
Jason gestured for them to follow him to the stairs before speaking, "I have a plan, but we'll have to discuss that later. We need to get food… err… stuff."
The family filed down the stairs and made their way to the lineup. Jason noticed the wry looks passed between the other inmates, the glee-ridden scum were planning something. He turned to Barracks, speaking only loud enough for his family to hear. "It seem a little quiet, B?"
Barracks didn't take a moment to look around, he simply answered, "Too quiet. Storm comes." Jason patted the taller man on the back.
"That's what I was afraid of." Jason nodded at Bruce, who nodded back in understanding. Jason had seen this coming like a freight train, the Number 7 gang was moving, probably against everyone's favorite crew the Bloodhounds. 7 was made up of humans with a few Metas that had joined as muscle. Blood was entirely composed of Metas. They were going to move today.
"When the fighting starts, get back towards the cells," He whispered to Bruce. Bruce turned and gave the message to his sons. Barracks got into position on the end of the line, Jason stood still on the other, keeping his family between them.
Border smiled, swept his hand in the air, signaling for the guards to leave. The last of them stepped out. Then all hell really broke loose. The two gangs stepped out of line, both drawing improvised weaponry. Jason laid his hand on Bruce's arm, pulling the man back. The batclan followed, even as the weapons flew and blood was spilled. "Well that's just wonderful. Looks like my hit list needs updating. Pity." Barracks smiled and the others focused on the bloodshed before them.
Within the first five minutes of the brawl eight men were on the ground and bleeding out. Lucas Pithy, convicted serial murderer (and number eight on Jason's hit list) was going after Ricky Rey, convicted of arson fires that killed nine people (he was number twelve), while Jack-o, leader of Number 7 (and coincidentally number six on his list) was clearing a path towards Jason. He laughed inwardly. This was going to be fun.
Jason smiled, stepped forward, and prepared to kill (defend, he definitely meant defend his family). Jack was in front Jason, waving around a nice and pointy screw, sharpened into a weapon.
"you know what Jakey? When I took my first, she'd already squealed for hours before I finally ended her. I think I wanna hear that again," He sneered. All right. His name just moved up on the list. Jason lunged. Jason took hold of the man's wrist and twisted, savoring the sound of the bone popping out of place. The screw clattered to the floor and his arm dangled uselessly at his side.
"Funny, I was kinda thinkin' it'd be your screams that echo these halls, number four." Jason shoved the man backwards. He let himself fall into a crouch, muscles tense and ready to pounce in moments… He broke of abruptly. The guards had returned and activated the collars. Jason backed away, allowing the guards to shock the inmates still fighting. Jack landed heavily on the ground, convulsing painfully.
"I thought you said not to make ripples," Dick said. Jason smiled and returned to his position beside his family.
"well, you know me, always with the theatrics," He ground out. Border screamed something about being thrown in the shoe… The men were being rounded up, all rendered indisposed by the collars.
Jason shook out his hands, rolling his shoulders and breathing heavily. The adrenaline of the fight was still filtering through his body, keeping him wide awake and alert.
"So what now, Jake?" Tim whispered.
Jason smiled, "well, y'know, the usual. We hit the showers. Then we eat. Plan hasn't changed too much, we just need to wait and see if this little game here has shifted the balance. If so, we need to be vigilant and see who our new players are."
"What exactly were you planning on doing, Jason?" Dick was speaking now, he'd stepped forward to stand nose-to-nose with Jason.
"What did it look like? I was going to sit down and have a tea party." Jason smirked, "c'mon."
Bruce and Dick were angry, Jason could feel it radiating off of them. Damian was upset, but it was undirected. Tim… Well, Jason wasn't sure what to make of the emotions hidden there. He rolled his eyes and motioned for them to move ahead.
…
The showers had been an awkward situation to say the least, a few hands had been caught a wandering, but the brothers had held their own. For that, Bruce was grateful. He still wasn't exactly sure how to feel about Jason's actions, but if last night had been any indication… well, he didn't think he would have much of a choice here.
The food was the same slop from yesterday. Jason led them to the same table as yesterday, Bruce had to admit his boy was using his head. From this position he could see any movements made by the other inmates. He thought about saying as much, but decided better after a moment.
Jason was pointing out the different gang leaders and the boys were absorbing the knowledge. Bruce was memorizing faces.
Leon Dawson, convicted on charges of attempted murder and suspicion of mob affiliation. Dark hair, brown eyes, Caucasian, 6', approximately two-hundred and ten pounds. Leader of the Bloodhounds, meta.
Jack Laurell, convicted of several counts of rape and murder. Blonde hair, green eyes, also caucasion, 6'1", approximately two-hundred and forty pounds. Leader of Number 7, human.
Several others were mentioned briefly, but these two were the major ones they needed to watch. Since Jack had been imprisoned, his gang was in a state of transition. All Bruce had to do was sit and wait for someone to make a move. Or so Jason kept telling him.
"… There will be a lot of blood spilled today, then, when the guy gets out you can expect to see even more blood on the ground." Jason was staring intently at Bruce while the others ate.
"How many have you killed." Everyone at the table stopped. The boys were avoiding eye contact, Jason was still staring. He'd been expecting this.
"Before or after I got sent to this shithole?" Jason smiled, "the number's high either way."
"Don't you understand? This isn't the life I want for you. You should be something, someone so much better. You don't need to sink to their level—"
Jason stood from the table, but his next words were a deadly whisper meant only for those sitting with them, "I'm gonna make this simple for you Byron. I bloody my hands so that you don't have to. I'm hunted down like a goddamned animal – just like you all are, but on top of that I'm the casualty of your sanctimonious hypocrisy! I gotta beg the question, if what I'm doing is so morally degrading how is it that we have laws protecting murder in the name of self-defense? Why is it OK when the army shoots down an enemy platoon? Think about it; if the Joker, or any other villain we've faced for that matter, were to take a hostage and the police had a sniper in place do you honestly believe that they wouldn't make that shot? Some people don't deserve to live and it doesn't matter which person gets that job. The military, the police, or the vigilante. I was raised to fulfill a higher purpose, and I'm telling you that this is it." He paused and took a shaky breath before continuing, "I think it's time you get off your damn high horse and take a good long look at your antiquated 'code' because it doesn't work anymore, not here. Stop condemning my ways. You don't have to accept what I do, but you need to stop railing against me."
With that his son left the table, heading for the lineup. Jason's words hit him deeply. Everything Jason had said were things he himself had though many times before. Bruce could lie to himself all he wanted… Jason was a failure, his mind was lost, he was already dead and buried… but Jason was here now, and he had kept them safe. His sons were looking at him for direction, but truly, Bruce had absolutely no idea how to deal with his black sheep.
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