WARNING: There is a lot of violent content in this chapter, including descriptions of child causalities. (The backstory of the attack on the kindergarten leading to Jason's capture is from the Arkham games itself, not me)
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Harley jumps to the ground, looking positively thrilled as she takes a giant wooden hammer that one of the clown men hands down to her. "Thank you, sweetie." She waves an arm forward, gesturing for the men to follow. They begin climbing out of the truck, their clown-paint making their sinister expressions look grotesque and horrifying.
Twirling the hammer in her hands, Harley grins. "You know what to do! Don't let Mister J down now, okay?"
Her goons nod and spread out, pulling out spray paint cans, knives, and even a few Molotov cocktails. Jason's eyes widen at the sight, suddenly feeling very naked without his Gotham Knight suit.
Probably not the best idea to leave our suits in the limo with Alfred, Jason thinks grimly, glancing about him for anything to use as a weapon. There isn't much. But then the original intention of his coming out to the courtyard snaps back to him, and Jason pauses, unsure whether to try fighting off Harley's men without the advantage of the Gotham Knight, or to continue searching for Dick.
Gritting his teeth, Jason turns away from the approaching clowns, diving headfirst into the thickest part of the smoke. "Dick!" he cries out desperately. "Dick, come on! Say something!" His eyes are watering from both the heat and the smoke, and his throat becomes more raw with each word he yells out. Suddenly his foot slams into something and Jason stumbles, looking down.
It's a child. He looks no older than six years old. Lying on his back, his limbs twist outwards at awkward angles, and blood oozes from deep gashes and empty chunks where flesh should be. Glassy blue eyes stare upwards, unseeing.
Jason staggers back, bile rising in his throat as he stares down at the body.
"Batman! Robin, thank goodness! The Joker – he took the school hostage!"
"Please help us! The children, they're still inside!"
Jason glances about him frantically, momentarily forgetting what he is supposed to be searching for as voices from old memories echo in his head. He aimlessly runs away from the small body, only to come upon another a few yards down. This one is a girl, probably about eleven years old. She is missing her right arm and part of her leg.
"Oh, oh God! Please, someone help! Robin! Robin, please! My little girl – save my daughter!"
Jason gags, forcing back the vomit that threatens to spill from his mouth. He continues on, terror gripping him as he runs through puddles of blood and burning patches of grass.
"Dick!" he screams. "DICK!"
Then he sees a body lying amongst a circle of bushes that had been planted around a tree. The head and torso of the person is obscured by the mass of leaves, but Jason knows exactly who it is.
"Dick!" Jason drops to his knees beside the motionless form. He grasps Dick's ankles and tugs hard, pulling his brother out from the thicket Dick had been thrown into from the initial blast.
Multiple scratches litter Dick's faces and arms. From what Jason can tell, no bones have been broken. However, a nasty-looking burn runs down Dick's left forearm. The left side of his shirt is tattered, and through the shredded cloth Jason can see that his torso has also been burned. Jason bends closer, and the smell of smoke and seared flesh fills his nostrils. Reaching out with a trembling hand, Jason presses two fingers to Dick's throat, just beneath the jaw.
A horrible second passes. Then Jason feels it; it's a little slower than it should be, but it's still there – a pulse. A strangled gasp of relief spills from Jason's mouth as he cradles his brother's head, bending over so low his forehead nearly rests upon Dick's.
A heavy hand suddenly clamps down on Jason's shoulder. Sucking in a sharp breath, Jason whirls around, blindly throwing a curled fist forward. His punch is caught by a larger, gloved hand.
"Batman," gasps Jason, staring up into the dark cowl and the respirator mask pulled over it.
"Are you alright?" Batman demands. "Are you hurt?"
Jason blinks, taking a moment to register the question in his overwhelmed mind. "N-no," he sputters. "But Dick, he –"
Batman pushes Jason aside and crouches down. He feels Dick's pulse, and Jason swears he sees Batman's shoulders sag slightly in his relief. But then Batman is as tense as ever, and he looks grimly at Jason. "Alfred is parked along the street lining the back of the foster home," he says, his voice low. "Take Dick to him, and then get your gear."
"Harley…" Jason begins, looking around them.
"Robin is keeping them occupied right now."
"Robin?"
Batman stands and gestures fervently. "Go. The Gotham Knight is needed here." Then Batman disappears into the smoke, leaving Jason and Dick.
Urgency nipping at him, Jason grabs Dick's uninjured arm and leg and heaves his brother's body across his shoulders so that he's carrying Dick fireman style. His legs shake as he stands, but once he has his balance he moves through the smoke at a fast pace, keeping Dick steady against him.
As he weaves his way across the courtyard he sees two of Harley's men spray painting wide smiles on one of the buildings. Another is tossing a brick through a window. Jason's jaw tightens, but he steers clear of them, knowing he has to get Dick to safety before interfering.
Suddenly, something hard slams into his lower spine, knocking him to the ground and causing Dick's limp body to go sprawling into the grass. Pain throbs throughout Jason's back, but nothing seems to have been broken, and after a long moment he manages pushes himself to his hands and knees. Groaning, he twists around to see Harley standing behind him; she props her hammer up against her shoulder, smiling broadly.
"Harley," he spits, anger burning in his voice despite the fear at seeing one of his torturers again.
"Jaybird, my little dear!" Harely exclaims, twirling the hammer. "I've missed you, darling! It's been so lonely without you and Mister J to keep me company." She gives an exaggerated pout. "And now my poor pudding is locked up by himself in Arkham, when it should be all three of us in there – together again, like the happy family we were meant to be!"
"If that was your definition of happy, it's no wonder you still bother hanging around the Joker," sneers Jason. "Since he treats you so well."
Fury flashes across Harley's face for the slightest instant. "You always were such a mean little boy." She gives a disapproving tut. "And talking about Mister J like that, after all he did for you!"
Jason clenches his fists. "Just stay the fuck away from me, Harley."
Harley giggles, though the sound comes off as rather sinister. "Not this time, little bird. After all, I came here especially to see you today!" She taps her chin thoughtfully. "I think I'll bring you back to my pudding as a reunion present. How he'd love to see you again!"
Jason's jaw tightens, and he can't deny the terror seizing him at the threat.
Harley wags a finger. "However, you've been very naughty lately. I'm sure Mister J won't mind if I give you a little spanking before sending you over to him!" She raises her hammer and Jason braces himself, preparing to roll out of way the moment the weapon begins its descent.
"Hey, Harley!"
Harley and Jason snap their heads in the direction of the shout. They don't see anyone, but the next second Harley cries out in pain, dropping her hammer as a Batarang smacks into her wrist. She looks about her wildly, but doesn't even finish turning around before a blur of red and black slams into her from behind, knocking her to the ground.
Robin somersaults to the ground and springs to his feet in a fluid, graceful motion. He stands over Harley, glaring down at her. "Why don't you give that to Joker instead," he growls.
Harley moans and rolls over, her eyes brightening as they latch onto Robin. "Oh! The newest Boy Wonder!" she exclaims gleefully. She doesn't even bother to try and get up. "You are much more adorable than little Jay-Jay was in those tights. He just couldn't quite pull off that innocent look."
"Shut it, Harley," snarls Robin, reaching down and cuffing Harley's wrists to a tree away from the fire. "Or I'll gag you as well."
"Kinky," Harley says, winking at Robin.
Robin turns, ignoring her as he walks over to Jason and Dick. Facing away from Harley, Jason once again pulls Dick over his shoulders and stands, his gaze hardening as he stares ahead.
"Jason?" Robin asks quietly, coming up to Jason's side.
Jason tightens his grip on Dick's body. "I'll get Dick out of here," he says. "And I'll be back soon. You help those kids." Jason spares Robin a momentary glance, and then hurries away from the Boy Wonder and the smoldering remains of the courtyard.
Alfred is parked behind one of the dorm buildings of the foster home, along a deserted street that is hardly more than a filthy alley. Upon seeing Jason, Alfred rushes to the side of the limo facing the approaching boys and yanks the door open. Together the two lie Dick across the backseat, and Jason takes a portable oxygen mask from a medical kit Alfred holds out, securing it over Dick's mouth.
"Hurry, get inside and change," Alfred urges, nearly slamming the door shut on Jason's foot as Jason climbs in. Alfred then rushes back to the driver's side and slides into the car.
"How'd Tim get into his Robin suit so fast?" Jason asks as he tears off his sneakers and shoves his jeans down his legs.
"He had contacted both myself and Master Bruce the moment the first bomb had gone off," Alfred explains. "I had been running errands and was still near enough to meet Master Timothy here in less than five minutes."
Gritting his teeth in annoyance at the crucial seconds ticking by, Jason hurriedly pulls on his camo pants, buckling his utility belt over them. His boots come next, and then he's grabbing at his armored jacket lying on the opposite seat. "Take care of Dick," he says, snatching his helmet and tugging it over his head.
"Of course," Alfred says. "And take care of yourself, Master Jason."
Jason doesn't reply. Wrenching the passenger door open, he all but throws himself from the limo in his haste to get outside. The moment his booted feet touch the ground he shoots a grappling hook at the dorm building's rooftop, launching himself upwards. Arching over the edge of the building, Jason flips through the air, landing on his feet perfectly. He runs to the other side of the rooftop, skidding to a stop and peering over the side to assess the situation.
The smoke from the explosions probably would have cleared away by now, if not for combining with the smoke provided by the fire now raging in the foster home's entrance building. Flames lick the windows, spreading out to the trees dotting the courtyard and consuming the fallen bodies littering the grass. A few of Harley's clowns had already been taken out by Batman and Robin, but at least ten remain.
Movement near the building Jason had read to the kids in catches his eye, and he turns to see one of Harley's goons running out the front doors. The clown-faced man goes only a few yards before stopping and turning around. Looking up at one of the library windows, he pulls out a Molotov cocktail and a lighter.
Panic jolts through Jason. Immediately he jumps off the edge of the roof, shooting a grappling hook into the side of the building and using it to swing himself towards the man.
The thug lights the cloth stuffed into the top of the bottle; he raises it high above his head and heaves his arm back. Then he throws the Molotov cocktail forward.
A dark figure suddenly swings in front of him, and a gloved hand snatches the flaming bottle right out of the air. The Gotham Knight swings upwards, tossing the Molotov cocktail at an already burning tree. The bottle explodes upon impact, but does little to further the fire already engulfing the tree.
The Gotham Knight arcs back around to where the clown still stands, landing on the ground with a heavy thud. The clown-faced man takes a step back, but then he pulls out a gun and points it at the Knight.
"Stay back, freak!" he warns.
"That's a cute nickname coming from a man wearing clown make-up," says the Knight, though his voice holds no humor in the snarky comment. There is only rage. He twists slightly, wrenching a Batarang from his belt. The gun fires, but the Knight has already moved out of the way; at the same moment he releases the Batarang, launching it at the thug. The weapon knocks the gun from the man's hand as the Knight rushes forward. He jumps into the air, spinning his legs around to slam into the side of the surprised thug's head. The man crashes to the ground, blood gushing from a fresh gash above his ear.
"Don't fall asleep," the Knight growls. He reaches down, grabbing a handful of the goon's hair and pulling his head upright. "We're not done yet." He delivers a hard punch to the thug's face, releasing his grip so that the man drops back to the dirt. The Knight swings his foot forward, but before it can slam into the clown's stomach the thug grabs the boot and gives it a hard yank. The Knight rolls with the twist, using the momentum to flip his other foot around so that it kicks the thug directly in the face.
Sudden footsteps attract the attention of the Knight, and he snaps his head up to see another clown rushing towards the library. In the distance, Batman is preoccupied with Harley's other men, while Robin is helping steer survivors away from the fire, carrying the ones who can't walk for themselves. Neither of them see the man pull out a new Molotov cocktail and light it.
"No!" the Knight shouts, jerking away from the thug he is crouched over. But as he begins to push himself to his feet the man he had been fighting suddenly springs up, wrapping beefy arms about the Knight's torso and wrenching him to the ground. They roll over, and the heavyset thug braces his knees on either side of the Knight, pinning him down.
"I don't think so, pal," snarls the man. Blood drips from his broken nose onto the Knight's helmet. "We've got a job to do, and we don't need you messing it up." He pulls out a knife and swipes it at the Knight's throat. The thug's bulky weight makes it difficult for the Knight to jerk out of the weapon's path, but the Knight manages to move just enough, and the blade instead scratches harmlessly against the bottom of his helmet.
With a furious snarl, the Gotham Knight throws all his weight forward, ferociously head-butting the man. There's a harsh crack as the helmet collides with the thug's unprotected skull, and with a moan the clown finally loses consciousness, crumpling on top of the Knight.
There's a shattering of glass, followed by a woosh of flames leaping up into the air.
"No!" Panic flares through the Knight and with a heavy thrust of his legs he kicks the limp body off of him. Flipping over, he jumps to his feet, only to watch with horror as flames and smoke explode from the library window the Molotov cocktail had been thrown into.
The sound of approaching emergency vehicle sirens echoes distantly. But Jason can't hear them; all that fills the air are the terrified cries of children. Jason immediately bolts back into Building C and slams himself into the metal doors leading into the library. But the doors hold, and Jason stumbles back, staring at the message painted across them in green graffiti.
Ha, ha, ha! read the revolting words. They arc over the door handles, through which an iron rod has been bent around, holding them shut.
Jason frantically reaches into his utility belt, pulling out a device made specifically to eject explosive gel. He sprays it over the door handles and takes a step back, pressing a button on the side of the device. The gel explodes, leaving a wide hole in the center of the double doors. Jason rushes forward, slamming the doors open.
The far end of the library is in complete flames. From the checkout desk to the Reading Pit fire licks its way over the carpeting and discarded books, closing in on where Amber and the children huddle against the wall to the left of the doors.
"Amber!" Jason shouts. Amber and the children snap their heads towards the voice, and their eyes widen upon seeing the armored figure.
"Who…?" chokes Amber, coughing on smoke.
"Hurry!" orders Jason, gesturing towards the doors.
Some of the children have already rushed to Jason's side, which surprises Jason somewhat, as his appearance isn't exactly one he would expect kids to trust so easily. But then he figures anything is better to them than the fire. Or perhaps the bat ears on his helmet provide that needed connection to the legend kids know to be on their side.
A few of the children try to bolt for the hallway, but Jason holds them back. "Not yet," he says. "There are men out there who may hurt you."
"But the fire –" begins one of the older girls.
Jason holds out a hand. "Just wait." Glancing anxiously at the encroaching flames, he looks back to Amber. "Come on! Get the rest of them!"
Amber shakes her head, looking down at two children lying in her lap. "I can't," she sobs. "Anthony and Emily – they're hurt. Wh-whatever it was that crashed through the window…it landed and exploded right next to them."
Icy fear jolts through Jason. He looks down and sees that both of the children lying across Amber's legs are unconscious, and sustaining multiple injuries. Scratches cover them, as well as some serious-looking burns.
"No! Not my daughter! Please, not her!"
"Robin? Robin!"
Remembered voices echo in his head. Pushing down his nausea at both the memory and the current sight before him, Jason bends over and takes Emily into his arms. "Can you carry Anthony? He's smaller."
Amber nods and gathers up the frail body, standing shakily. Jason quickly turns back to the children still waiting at the door, all looking too terrified to move. "Come on," he says. Cradling Emily against his chest, Jason leads the group out into the smoke-filled hall, and together they hurry outside.
The sight they come out to is a surprise to Jason. A dozen firemen have entered the courtyard, and already they have begun reducing the flames engulfing the place. The majority of Harley's goons lie unconscious across the charcoaled grass, and the few still standing are surrounded by at least twenty armed police officers. Commissioner Gordon stands amongst the circling cops, his gun raised as he orders the clown-faced men to drop their weapons. Surprisingly, they do.
Jason leads Amber and the children across the courtyard towards the parking lot, to where three ambulances wait. As they hurry along, Jason sees Robin coming over from the opposite end of the courtyard, carrying another child. Batman is escorting Harley Quinn to the police cars, the tightness of his grip noticeable even from yards away.
"Am I going to Arkham?" questions a gleeful Harley. "Home sweet home! I'll be with my pudding again soon! And he'll be so happy to hear about today."
"Shut up, Harley," snarls Batman.
"My, you are a witty one!" Harley exclaims sarcastically as she's shoved into the backseat of one of the cars. "Come on, lay another one on me, B-man! Make me laugh!"
Her rambling is muffled as Batman slams the car door shut. Jason looks away and continues on, panic rising in his chest as he glances down at Emily. Burns mar her right arm, running up her neck and stopping just below her jaw. Her clothing is charred along her right torso, and Jason guesses that beneath the ruined cloth are only more burns. Deep cuts from what Jason assumes to have been from shattered glass also cover her skin. Her breathing is shallow, and it seems to slow with every step Jason takes.
Once Amber and the children are safely in the parking lot, Jason runs up to two paramedics dragging a stretcher out of one of the ambulances; without a word he sets Emily's body on it, looking at the paramedics desperately.
"Help her," he pleads, his voice sounding rawer than ever. "Help her."
The paramedics look a bit stunned at the sudden appearance of an armored man wearing bat ears, but they shake off their surprise quickly enough and turn their attention to Emily.
"Is she going to be alright?" Jason demands.
"We don't know yet," replies one of the paramedics, pulling an oxygen mask over Emily's pale face.
"She has to be," insists Jason. He gives a harsh cough. "She –"
"Gotham Knight."
Jason freezes, turning at the familiar voice. Robin stands not five feet away, watching him wearily.
"We have to go," says Robin. He pulls off his own respirator mask and tucks it back into his utility belt.
Jason glances at Emily, who is being lifted into the back of the ambulance. "But –"
"Knight," Robin says tightly. He gives his head a warning shake.
Clenching his fists, Jason gives a curt nod. He stalks away from the ambulances, moving towards an alley wedged in between what is left of the foster home's entrance building and a long-abandoned lawyer's office.
Casting back one last look to make sure GCPD has the situation in hand, Robin follows the Gotham Knight. The apprehension on his masked face only grows as he watches Jason shoot a grappling hook and launch himself onto the office building.
The moment Jason's feet hit the roof he begins to run, his mind burning with remembrance.
"Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall…"
It had happened years ago. Joker had taken a kindergarten hostage, but by the time Batman and Robin had arrived, there was not much left to save.
Little arms and legs, purposefully mismatched and crudely stitched back together. A jigsaw of blood and horror. Parents weeping, desperately trying to piece together the jumbled remains of their children.
The Joker's voice had crackled to life through the school's speakers as the Dark Knight and the Boy Wonder stumbled through the hall of blood and bodies.
"All the king's horses, and all the king's men," sang the Joker. "Couldn't put Humpty together again."
Jason had given Bruce the slip not long after, switching off his tracker and vowing to do what Bruce never had the courage to do himself. He went after the Joker but, like a fool, fell into a trap laid out just for him.
It had been Jason's last night as Robin. He didn't see Bruce again for nine months.
All Jason can see as he runs across the rooftops now is dead children. Chopped up kindergarteners and burned foster children, crying out in vain for a rescue that is not coming. It is just like before. And once again, he cannot protect them.
He's choking, gasping for breath. His lungs feel like they're on fire, and Jason stumbles as he lands on the rooftop of a condemned apartment building. Falling forward, Jason catches himself on his hands and knees, his body shuddering as a violent coughing fit racks his body.
"Jason!" Suddenly, thin hands are on his back, steadying him.
Jason lifts his head to see Tim looking down at him, his anxiety apparent even with the Robin domino mask on. Jason tries to speak, but as he opens his mouth another series of harsh coughs spill from it.
Not bothering to ask for permission, Tim reaches out and presses the correct combination of buttons on the side of Jason's helmet, unlocking it and dragging it from Jason's head. Tim tosses the helmet aside and bends closer, returning his hands to Jason's back.
"Jason!" Tim says desperately. "Jason, come on – breathe!"
Jason shakes his head, and a ragged sob is torn from him as the image of Emily's burned body flashes in front of his eyes.
Tim frantically pulls out the respirator mask he had used earlier. Placing one hand against the back of Jason's head he all but shoves the mask against Jason's mouth, holding it in place as Jason instinctively jerks in Tim's grip.
"Deep breaths. Come on, work with me, Jason!"
Jason focuses on Tim's voice, using it to steady himself and drown out Joker's singing. Gradually the coughing fit subsides, and then Jason slumps forward. Tim catches Jason before he hits the rooftop, grunting as he props Jason's heavy body up against his. Tim is forced to let go of the respirator to keep Jason from falling over, but Jason manages to catch it in time, keeping the mask pressed against his mouth with a shaking hand.
"Jason?" stammers Tim. "Jay?"
Jason closes his eyes, breathing deeply as he tries to clear his lungs of the smoke invading them. The sound of approaching footsteps startles the boys, and they jerk their heads to the left to see Batman running towards them.
"Jason?" Bruce says, his voice anxious as he kneels beside them. Placing a hand over the one Jason is holding the mask up with, Bruce pushes Jason's sweaty bangs back. "Jason, can you speak?"
"He must have inhaled a lot of smoke before putting on his helmet," Tim says worriedly.
Bruce's mouth dips into a frown. "He did." He glances at Tim. "Are you alright?"
Tim nods. "Yes. What about Dick?"
"He's back at the Manor. Dr. Leslie is taking care of him."
Jason sucks in a shuddering breath, regaining Bruce and Tim's attentions.
"Jason?" says Bruce.
Jason lifts teary eyes to Bruce's. "They're all dead," he whispers, his hoarse voice echoing slightly in the respirator. "Just like before." He gives a sob. "And this time it's because of m-me. They came h-here because of me…"
Tim's grip on Jason tightens, and Bruce runs a hand through Jason's hair. "It's okay, Jason. Just breathe. Breathe."
Jason's chest heaves as he struggles to keep the coughs under control.
"We have to get you both back to the Manor," Bruce says. He stands, and helps Tim and Jason to their feet. Jason manages to stand on his own for the most part, but Tim pulls his older brother's arm over his shoulders anyway. Looking exhausted, Jason doesn't bother to resist.
"Come on," says Bruce. "We need to go."
Tim nods, and together he and Jason follow Bruce to the edge of the rooftop, where the Batplane hovers, waiting for them to climb in.