(12/28)
"You can't touch me! You can't touch me! Ahahahahaha!" Joker's cackled maniacally Red Robin's weak punches, moving like a phantom. Red Robin leaned against a tree, his breath nothing more than sharp, ragged gasps. Sweat soaked his suit, his heart pounded against his ribs. He looked at Joker with wide-eyed astonishment. How is he not tired? How can he be so... alive?
Joker twirled and laughed as he taunted, "Come on, bird boy! What's the matter? Can't keep up?"
Fury welled up in Red Robin's chest. With a roar, he lunged again. This time, his fist connected with Joker's pale face. The sound of the hit echoed in the still night air. "Ow!" Joker stumbled back, rubbing his cheek, his grin unfaltering. "That actually hurt!" But something was wrong. Red Robin stared at the spot he'd struck. No bruise. No swelling. Not even a hint of redness. Why isn't he reacting? This... doesn't make sense. "You don't look so good, little bird," Joker crooned as he slowly advanced, the gleam of a crowbar catching the moonlight as he swung it casually at his side.
"Red Robin!" a voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. He whipped his head toward it. Batwoman. She was standing just behind him, her face shadowed, but her tone laced with concern. "What's going on?"
He blinked, his brain slowly catching up. "Joker—he—" Red Robin turned back to where the clown had been, but the spot was empty. No Joker. No crowbar. No laughter. Nothing. "I don't understand," he whispered, eyes darting, searching. "He was right here."
"Who was?" Batwoman's voice was firmer now, and she approached slowly, carefully.
"Joker," Red Robin snapped at her, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. "I was fighting him—just now. He was right here! Why don't you believe me? Why are you all letting him get away?" His voice cracked, his frustration boiling over. "Are you all blind?"
Batwoman's posture stiffened, her eyes narrowed behind her mask. "Red Robin," she spoke delicately, "Joker is dead."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. "I don't have time for this," he muttered, throwing up his hands, trying to shake the confusion from his head. "I'm going to find him." As he moved past her, Batwoman grabbed his arm. "You need to go back to the cave. You're not well."
"I'm fine!" Red Robin snarled, pulling his arm free. "Let go, Kate."
Batwoman bristled at the sound of her name. "You're not fine," she said, trying to hide how worried she was. "You're chasing a ghost. Someone is messing with your head."
"I know what I saw!" Red Robin growled, his voice rising with desperation. "He's alive! He's real!" His chest heaved, his world spun, and the lingering echo of Joker's laughter haunted him.
"I will not let you kill yourself chasing a ghost," Batwoman said steadily.
"Then get out of my way."
"No." The finality in her voice was like a door slamming shut.
"Fine," Red Robin hissed. "I guess I'll have to move you myself."
He struck first, but his movements were sluggish and telegraphed. Batwoman thwarted his attempt, skillfully twisting his wrist behind his back with practiced precision. "Look at you," she said softly. "You're exhausted. You need help." Red Robin gritted his teeth, twisting and rolling to break free, but his body screamed in protest. He threw a wild punch—reckless, uncoordinated. Batwoman ducked under it with ease and countered, landing a precise blow to his ribs. He cried out, stumbling back. "You're in no shape to fight," she said, her voice heavy.
Panic flared in Red Robin's chest. Nothing would stop him. With a desperate cry, he lunged again, but Batwoman deflected every hit with ease, her movements fluid and calm. His were frantic, uncoordinated.
Finally, Batwoman swept his legs out from under him, and Red Robin hit the ground hard, the world spinning around him.
"Stay down," she warned, but he forced himself up, staggering. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, and before he could react, she struck—quick, clean, precise. A hard punch to the gut, followed by a chop to his neck. His world tilted, his breath caught in his throat, and he felt himself slump.
Batwoman caught him before he could hit the ground, holding him up beneath his arms. "I've got you," she whispered. "Don't worry. We'll get you help."
Victor stared at the results of Tim's brain scan, his normally calm face a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and horror.
"So?" Stephanie's voice was a sharp whisper, eyes glued to Tim's unmoving form. "How bad is it?"
"Bad," Victor replied, his voice tight. His gaze flicked from the scan to the unconscious man strapped to the bed. Tim's chest rose in shallow, ragged breaths. "His brain is systematically shutting down his body. If we don't figure out exactly what he's been exposed to—I won't know what to treat."
"What do we do?" Kate's question came out strained, her fists clenched at her sides.
"Keep pushing liquids until—" the sudden, shrill alarm of a machine interrupted Victor. His head snapped towards it, eyes widening. "Blood analysis," he muttered, frantically pulling up the results. A flash of disbelief crossed his face. "Oh no, oh no, oh no…"
"What's wrong?" Dick was already at his side, heart pounding as Cassandra joined him. Her sharp eyes scanned the screen.
"Wait, that's Scarecrow's fear toxin," Dick said, recognizing the chemical makeup. "And—Mad Hatter's mind control serum." Cassandra pointed to another section. "Venom—the kind Bane uses."
Kate's voice trembled as she read the last line. "Phencyclidine. PCP."
Victor's jaw clenched. "Mixed with Datura—by itself — causes auditory hallucinations, extreme paranoia, confusion, delusion. And there's Scopolamine—distorts perception, causes memory loss, and in high doses... respiratory failure." He hesitated, looking down at Tim. "It's a miracle he's not already dead." Stephanie gasped, clutching the edge of the bed. Tim jerked, his muscles spasming beneath the restraints. His breath came in rattling bursts, eyes flickering beneath his lids as if locked in a nightmare he couldn't escape. As Victor urgently adjusted the machines, Tim's body jerked again, and the beeping of the monitor grew more erratic, filling the room with an ominous, accelerating rhythm. Every second felt like a countdown, ticking closer to the unthinkable. "Get him sedated!" Victor barked. "Now! We need to keep him stable, or he won't make it through the hour. Oxygen mask, make sure the paddles are nearby. We are going to need them." He turned to them. "I need to get to STAR Labs," he muttered to himself, "but he doesn't have much time. Think, Vic, think. Slow his heart down, maybe slow down the toxins? Do you guys have any activated charcoal?"
"Yep," Stephanie said, finding it, and handing it to Vic.
"Raven!" Dick blurted out, voice desperate. "She can heal people—maybe she can pull him out of this—or keep him alive until you get back."
Victor's head snapped toward him. "Get her here, NOW! Time's running out—"
"I give up," Raven muttered, slamming her calculus book shut with a frustrated sigh. "This is impossible."
"RAVEN! OPEN UP!" Richard's voice boomed from the hallway, accompanied by a frantic pounding on her door.
She frowned, waving a hand to swing the door open with her powers. "Holy Azar, Richard, what—"
"No time to explain!" Richard burst into the room, eyes wide with panic. He grabbed her arm, yanking her up from her chair. "It's Tim—he's dying. Now. We need you now."
"What?" Raven's breath hitched, her confusion quickly overtaken by the alarm in his voice. She stumbled as he tugged her along, barely maintaining her pace.
"He's seeing the Joker, Raven. The Joker's dead—but Tim…" Richard's words tumbled out, his grip tightening. "He's losing it. If we don't get to him, he won't make it."
Raven's heart pounded as Richard dragged her faster. "Okay, I'm coming!"
Tim's eyes fluttered open. His vision swam, his stomach churned, and his head throbbed violently. It was like a hammer was driving a nail into his skull. The room blurred—dark shadows of the Batcave, its sterile equipment, and cold stone pressing in around him. His breath came in short, panicked gasps when he realized he was strapped down. His heart pounded, hard and fast, slamming against his chest. He yanked at the straps, desperate to free himself, but they held firm. Then he heard it.
"Ha… ha… ha."
Tim's head snapped toward the corner of the room. His pulse froze. There, in the dim light, the Joker's sick grin split the shadows, his wild eyes burned with malicious delight.
"You're going to die," the Joker's voice slithered through the air, dripping with venom. His laugh echoed, a maddening sound that clawed at Tim's mind. "And I'm going to enjoy every second."
"No… no…" Tim whispered, his throat dry, his voice shaky. He strained harder against the straps, pulling until his wrists burned, but the bindings wouldn't budge.
The Joker's grin widened. "Better hurry," he crooned, his figure flickering like a broken hologram. "Tick-tock, Timmy boy. You're running out of time."
Tim's heart raced faster, panic surging. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes, his pulse roaring in his ears. The room seemed to tilt, and his breath hitched in his throat. He looked out the window—Stephanie, Cassandra, Kate… They were out there, rummaging through equipment, trying to find something.
"They can't see me," Joker hissed, his voice bouncing around the cave. "But they will…after I'm through with you."
No. Tim's chest tightened as dread clawed at him. I have to stop him. Looking back at his team, he thought, This is for their own good. The Joker's laugh grew louder, rattling inside his skull.
Tim's fingers fumbled with the straps. He had to stay calm—calm—but his hands were shaking uncontrollably. His vision blurred again, the Joker's maniacal eyes burning holes into him. He couldn't let them stop him. He couldn't fail.
I won't let the Joker win.
"This is my fault," Stephanie said, her hands trembling as she and Cassandra hastily compiled the list of items Victor had left behind.
"It's not your fault," Kate insisted, her voice strained but steady.
"I should have gone back to the warehouse immediately," Stephanie argued, her frustration evident.
"Yeah? Well, I should have taken you seriously when you first reached out. I'm still not completely use to this 'team' thing." Kate replied. "If I hadn't been so flippant…how about we're both to blame? Let's just make sure this never happens again."
Without warning, the lights in the cave flickered and then plunged into darkness. The emergency lights flared to life, casting an eerie red glow. A deafening alarm blared, sending the bats above into a frenzy. "What the heck?" Kate shouted over the cacophony. "What's going on?"
"The cave's emergency protocol," Stephanie shouted, trying to be heard over the noise. "It's designed to respond to hostiles and intruders. But how did it get triggered?" A sharp tug on her cape made her spin around. Cassandra pointed anxiously at Tim's bed—now empty.
"Fuck," Stephanie gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "Ow!" a searing pain shot through her arms.
"Rubber bullets!" Kate yelled, ducking behind cover as more projectiles whizzed by. "Ow!" she screeched as one struck her. Stephanie grabbed a batarang, her movements quick and desperate. She hurled it toward the turret's location. A loud whoosh followed the explosion as a sonic cannon fired up and released a deafening noise. The girls covered their ears, their faces contorted in pain from the blaring sound. "Omigosh!" Stephanie shouted, her voice nearly lost in the din.
"This is overkill!" Kate screamed, her voice cracking with frustration. Just then, a black energy beam slammed into the sonic cannon, rendering it silent. "Wait, what?" Kate looked around, bewildered. Stephanie looked around. "Raven," she breathed in relief as Raven and Dick appeared from the Zeta tube.
"What's happening?" Dick asked with a look of surprise as Raven shielded them from the projectiles that began targeting them. "I was gone for less than two minutes."
"Tim escaped," Stephanie panted, her eyes darting around. "He activated the emergency protocol." Silence. Then a loud hissing sound filled the air. "Gas masks!" Stephanie shouted. Dick and Cassandra scrambled to find the masks, quickly handing them out. They secured them just in time as the gas seeped into the room.
"This is seriously overkill," Kate muttered, her voice muffled by the mask as she looked around at the pandemonium. "I'm going to kill my cousin."
Red Robin staggered, disoriented, barely able to grasp his surroundings. He found himself outside, standing barefoot on the icy rooftop, the bitter cold searing through him. Snowflakes drifted down, clinging to his skin as he glanced up at the overcast sky. He reached out, catching a flurry on his ungloved, bruised hand, letting it melt away. His own breath, visible in the frigid air, shattered the silence of the winter night. "This is how it ends," Red Robin muttered to himself, the weight of his situation pressing heavily on his shoulders. A chilling laugh echoed from behind him, and he turned around, not surprised to see he wasn't alone. "How about one last dance?" the Joker's voice slithered through the night, laced with sadistic glee.
Red Robin's face transformed into a resolute mask despite the numbing cold in his limbs. The Joker stood there, his grin wide and menacing, his eyes gleaming with twisted excitement. Red Robin met the Joker's gaze with fierce determination and growled, "Let's do this."