"This the place?" Dick glanced warily at the decrepit building. It looked alarmingly silent and still. Too still.
Damian frowned at his brother. He was the youngest, but sometimes he thought he was the only one with any common sense. "Do you know of another abandoned asylum?"
"Good point."
Jason stopped to look up at the old building towering over them all. He swallowed dryly. "I didn't think I'd ever come back here…" The building cast a dark and cold shadow over the brothers, causing him to shiver. He hadn't ever wanted to come back here, and yet, here he was again.
"It must be rough, especially after everything that happened, Jason." Tim hesitantly reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. The act of sympathy was probably a bigger risk than the risk they took in entering the building. Jason had always been… testy at best. Even worse when he had temporarily cut off all ties as the Red Hood. But after Bruce had passed, they had all gotten a little closer and learned to rely on each other a little more. So he probably wouldn't get his hand chopped off… probably…
Jason tensed up at the touch, his muscles remembering the pain that had happened here. But, the hand on his shoulder, though strong, was gentle. That's right. It was his brother, who was trying to be comforting. He was okay. He forced a small smile for Tim. "Well then." He took the first step forward, leading the way for the others.
Behind him, Tim and Dick shared a glance. Would Jason be okay? Probably not. They'd have to talk to him after the mission. Tim would have offered to let him stay back if he thought there'd be any chance that Jason would agree. But that wasn't the kind of person his brother was. Wordlessly, Tim and Dick decided to do something for him when they were safe again. Maybe they could talk about it, or if he didn't want to talk, maybe they'd just read him that book he liked. The stupid romance one.
The four former Robins entered the old building that was once known as Arkham Asylum. It had been shut down years ago after the Gotham renewal project went south. They had begun to send everyone to Black Gate and the old asylum had faded from memory— for all but Jason.
"I'll scout ahead!" Damian announced suddenly, breaking the silence. He grappled up to an overhead beam and vanished into the darkness before anyone could say a word.
"Wait!" Dick started, but it was too late. The boy was gone.
"Kids." Jason rolled his eyes. Inside, his heart rate steadily accelerated. He had been alone here once. He'd been as cocky as Damian. It had been his downfall. What if history repeated itself? What if…?
He glanced to his left, then to his right. That's right. He wasn't alone. He might have been before, but he wasn't alone now. They work as a team now. They would be okay. Damian was good at reconnaissance. His mother had taught him well. He'd be okay. They'd all be okay.
"I don't remember you being much better." Dick elbowed him, a teasing smile on his face.
Jason felt his cheeks redden slightly. "Whatever, d*ckhead." The three laughed slightly, remembering fondly older squabbles amongst themselves. There was hardly time for remembering the past though. "So what exactly are we looking for again, Tim?"
"I'm not exactly sure," Tim shrugged, his brain still turning over the information he knew. "Supposedly there have been a lot of sightings around here."
"Sightings?"
"Mad Hatter, Bane, Scarecrow, etc., etc."
"Ah, fun stuff." Dick joked. While it was suspicious and alarming that all their enemies gathered in one place, it also meant that they could knock them all out in a single blow if they played their cards right. And they would. Tim always had a plan for every situation. He'd have a plan now.
"Dick!"
The scream echoed through the air, startling every one of the brothers. It had come from behind them. And just like Jason had feared, it was the terrified scream of Damian. Something had gone wrong.
The group turned to see Bane holding Damian, a few inches above the ground, by the throat. His legs and arms flailed wildly through the air as he struggled to get free. When he saw his brother's turn, Damian's eyes filled with hope. They would save him. There were three of them and one of Bane. They could.
"Bane—" Nightwing started—
Snap!
In a swift movement, Bane twisted Damian's neck. The crack echoed loudly throughout the room. It echoed louder still in the ears of the young vigilantes. Damian's lifeless body, now purple and pale from mere seconds without blood and airflow was tossed to the floor and hit the ground with yet another crack that resonated throughout.
"No!" Dick and Tim both leaped forward, towards Bane. He would have hell to pay for taking Damian away from them.
Jason, however, took a moment to move. No. No. It was happening again. Damian was the only one of them who still wore the Robin suit. It was happening all over again!
Focus! He needed to focus. Unlike Batman, he didn't have any reservations about shooting Bane right then and there. He would make sure Damian was avenged, and then he could mourn and panic. He had to focus. Focus.
He reached for his gun but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his left leg. He glanced to his left to see Victor Freeze with his cold gun aimed at him. He quickly jumped for cover behind a pile of rubble just as Victor fired again.
Jason spared a moment to look at his throbbing leg. Wedged in his calf was a bloodied icicle. He pulled it out and tossed it aside. When he looked back at his leg, the hole where the icicle had pierced his suit was gone. Oh, that was nifty.
He reached for the holstered guns on either side and drew them both. He jumped up from the pile of rubble, which was now completely iced over, and fired a few rounds at the good doctor. The bullets deflected off his thick metal suit, leaving nothing but a dent. Despite the ineffectiveness of the attack, Mr. Freeze retreated from whence he came.
Without a second to wait for or think of his struggling brothers— much less his own struggles— Jason left his cover and ran after the villain. He followed him through a large hole in the crumbling building and found himself in a courtyard, face to face with Freeze. He lifted his gun, prepared to shoot again.
"It's bulletproof," Mr. Freeze laughed and tapped his suit.
That was slightly inconvenient. Jason holstered his gun and looked for another weapon. "Yeah, but is it brick-proof?" He picked up a brick from the rubble of the courtyard and rushed at him. The brick hit Mr. Freeze's helmet, sending a spider web of cracks through the dome.
Mr. Freeze countered with a punch to Jason's rib cage and the boy staggered back. With some distance between them again, Freeze picked up his gun and prepared to shoot.
Jason jumped for Mr. Freeze and wrestled the gun out of his hand. He quickly followed up with a roundhouse kick to the villain's groin. Then, using the momentum from the kick, swept his foot and sent Mr. Freeze tumbling to the floor.
Jason looked down at a defeated Mr. Freeze, who struggled on his back. But, he didn't feel right. There was still a sense of dread.
A green mist began to rise from the ground and roll in around him and the downed Mr. Freeze.
"Fear toxin!"
Jason looked back to Victor. He wriggled on the ground and scratched at his face. Then he grinned at him. That devilish smile extended far into his cheekbones. The vigilante hastily reached for his gun, not a thought in his head. He could see him. Maybe Joker wasn't here. Maybe it was just the fear toxin. Maybe it was only Mr. Freeze. But he didn't care. Whoever it was that he saw in the green of the gas, whoever he saw that grinned so eerily at him, whoever held a gun out towards him, wasn't going to be leaving the asylum. Not in one piece. Not without a bullet hole.
A cloud of snow exploded in his face, but he stepped forward, unphased. "Oh f*ck you." Jason pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced through the cracked helmet of Mr. Freeze.
Blood, tissue, and various brain matter splattered across the back of the helmet and even through the crack at the front. With a final burst of cool breeze, Dr. Victor Freeze fell to the floor— dead.
Jason looked down at the body, his head swimming. He could see clearer, and think clearer too— enough to tell he had just killed Mr. Freeze. "What does it matter anyway? Bruce is gone and now Damian…" His breath felt raspy. Probably the gas. "Damian…"
His brother was dead. Damian was gone. If only he had held him back. Maybe… Maybe he would have had some help fighting Mr. Freeze. A cloud of sorrow washed over him. A green mist overtook him. His heart hurt only from the adrenaline that had pumped through his veins, not because his littlest brother was dead.
"JASON!" A hellishly distorted voice called.
"Oh," he mumbled. Freeze hadn't been the only one he was fighting. The fear Toxin. Scarecrow was here. "I forgot about Crane." He turned to see a dark shadowy figure run towards him.
"Jason!" The voice called again.
"I almost forgot about you Crane." Jason leveled his gun and pulled the trigger. Better to get it done quickly to help Tim and Dick. He'd almost forgotten about them too.
"Wait!"
It was too late. He had already pulled the trigger. The figure fell to the ground without even a scream.
Jason staggered to the body to make sure Scarecrow was finished. He wheezed for the clear air that began to circulate the room. The fear toxin was finally wearing off.
"No!" His eyes grew wide and round. It had to be the last final trick from Crane. "No!" He dropped to his knees and reached out to touch the figure's face. It wasn't a trick. "No! No! I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!"
On the ground, with a bullet placed perfectly in his heart, laid Tim Drake.