The terrifying laughter continues, even as the one laughing crumples on the ground.

Bruce is… Bruce can't…

"B!" Jason says in clear outrage. He starts to try to stand, but his battered limbs collapse and he keels over sideways instead like he's going to pass out.

Dropping quickly to his knees, Bruce catches Jason and steadies him automatically.

"You can't-" Jason begins, voice cracking, then he stops, panting pained breaths.

"It's okay," Bruce says, feeling like he's never been less okay. The laughter keeps coming from beside him, the crumpled figure on the ground twitching slightly, as Bruce repeats to Jason, "It's okay."

"That's what I said!" Jason wheezes out. "That's what I told him!"

"Him," evidently, because there's no one else around, is a small version of none other than the Joker.

Bruce is at such a loss. He kneels there uncertainly for several seconds until a beeping noise splits the air through the sound of deranged laughter, the latter of cutting off at the sound of his communicator. His communicator!

Grabbing the communicator, Bruce answers the call.

"Batman! Robin-"

"Is okay," Bruce says, trying to sound professional when he feels anything but that. "I arrived in time. Joker has left, and Robin will be okay. Have Superman and Wonder Woman been reached?"

"They're finally getting to your location. Arrival estimated in under thirty seconds."

"Good. I'll brief them when they arrive. Batman out," Bruce says, making the call as short as possible. He ends the call and looks down at Jason.

Jason's eyes are clenched closed, but he's breathing. "B?"

"Robin," Bruce says after several moments of feeling his own breathing catch. "Jason."

"You gotta-" Jason tries, but he cuts himself off, shaking his head. "Hurts. I can't. You. You gotta."

"What?" Bruce asks urgently.

"Save him," Jason says, flinging a hand outward toward the miniature Joker.

"Okay," Bruce says. He doesn't know what else to say.

That's when the air shifts and, in a blur, Superman and Wonder Woman arrive in the warehouse.

"Batman," Superman says, sounding just as alarmed as he and Wonder Woman both look. "What-"

"Robin needs immediate medical attention," Bruce says, trying to keep himself calm and clear. "Take him to the Watchtower."

"No!" Jason cries out.

Superman looks back at Bruce.

"You need help," Bruce says firmly. "Superman, bring him to the Watchtower."

"I can't go," Jason says, trying to sound firm but breathing erratically.

Superman kneels on Jason's other side and puts out his arms. "I'm sure Batman has everything handled, okay? Let's get you some help."

"But I-" Jason begins.

Superman gently scoops Jason into his arms and stands back up.

Jason's speech cuts off. His eyes roll back, and his whole body goes slack.

Bruce's heart leaps into his throat. Jason probably finally passed out from all the pain and exertion, that's probably all it is, but what if-

"He's alive," Superman says before Bruce can even ask for Superman to check Jason's heartbeat. To be fair, Superman probably was checking Bruce's own heartbeat to know to say that. "He's clearly in a lot of pain, and it's going to take time for him to heal, but he'll be all right."

Bruce nods. That's basically all he can do.

"What about…" Superman says, voice trailing off as he tilts his head meaningfully toward the smaller version of the Joker.

Bruce considers the figure on the ground warily. He considers asking Wonder Woman for her lasso to get some answers. He even considers, however briefly, asking the Justice League for an assisted immediate transfer to Arkham Asylum, but he also promptly feels bad about it. The figure is clearly some kind of victim if Jason wants to save him, even without taking into account the figure's small stature and striking scars.

"I'll take care of it," Bruce says eventually.

Superman shifts from foot to foot uneasily.

"Understood," Wonder Woman says after a long pause. "Let's go get Robin some assistance. Superman?"

Superman nods to both of them and turns so that Wonder Woman can get on his back with Jason currently occupying his arms. Wonder Woman nods to Bruce and grabs onto Superman, and in a moment, Wonder Woman, Superman, and Jason are all gone.

Bruce lets his heart calm for a moment, knowing Jason is in good hands. Then he turns on his knees toward the person remaining on the ground. Bruce examines the crumpled figure, trying to ignore how his heart quickly speeds up back again.

The miniature Joker is lopsided on the ground. That's Bruce's own fault, he supposes, guilt spiking through him at the reminder that he was so startled and overwhelmed by the sound of Joker laughter that he dropped a probable victim. Still. The miniature Joker hasn't moved, hasn't adjusted his crooked posture and position in any way. It's… Unsettling.

"Hey there," Bruce says, trying to sound gentle.

The miniature Joker's whole body heaves with a massive shiver.

"I don't believe we've met," Bruce says. That's likely a foolish thing to say, but Bruce feels entirely out of his depth here, and he finds himself falling back more on Alfred's manners lessons than anything he's learned as Batman. "I'm Batman."

The figure's body heaves again, and his mouth falls open, spilling out that horrific laughter again.

Bruce valiantly attempts not to wince backward. He even mostly succeeds. "It's okay. I'm here. What's your name?"

The miniature Joker keeps laughing, laughing, laughing. It sounds just like the real Joker, a perfect replica, not even close to the broken but still individualized way people on Joker venom laugh.

Oh. That's a possible solution.

"It's okay," Bruce says, grabbing at his utility belt and rummaging through the compartments as fast as he can. "Everything's going to be okay. I'm going to give you something to help you, okay?"

The miniature Joker laughs and laughs, the sound screeching through the air and sending shudders down Bruce's spine.

Finally, feeling like it took an hour but really only taking maybe ten seconds, Bruce pulls out a bottle of the most recent Joker venom antidote. He speedily preps a syringe with a concentrated dose, taking into account both the small size and the violent laughter of the figure to choose how much to inject.

"It's going to pinch a little, okay?" Bruce warns, gingerly inching closer to the figure on the ground.

The small Joker just keeps on laughing, the sound cracking every now and then in what sounds less like a laugh and more like an eerie gasp or maybe a sob.

Carefully, although not entirely sure for whose sake he's being careful, Bruce eases one hand under the miniature Joker's arm and lifts it up, turning it slightly for better access. Bruce readies the syringe and injects the antidote.

The moment the plunger on the syringe begins to press down, the small figure gives a loud scream. Hopefully that's a good sign? Bruce has no idea. Usually the antidote makes venom victims go silent. At least the miniature Joker isn't laughing anymore? Bruce keeps injecting the antidote until it's gone.

When Bruce pulls the syringe away, the figure goes limp. The scream cuts off.

Bruce has just enough time in the silence to think a relieved "oh, good."

Then the figure begins to spasm, shaking and quaking, whimpering and wailing in pain. With one last violent tremble, the figure goes very still and silent, eyes closed, limbs slack.

Oh, not good.

Uncertain of what's happening, Bruce rapidly checks for breathing and a pulse. Both are present but weak and inconsistent.

When Bruce's hand pulls back from checking for the pulse at the figure's neck and jaw, the figure on the ground whimpers more and tries to chase Bruce's hand with his head, tilting closer to Bruce.

Bruce feels like… How might Jason put it? A total heel.

Carefully, Bruce puts his hand back against the small figure's neck and jaw.

The figure whimpers still, but leans into the soft touch.

Bruce puts his other hand on the figure's opposite cheek.

The small figure fully keens, the noise filled with pain but hinting at the barest bit of what sounds like hope.

Bruce gathers up the tiny body and pulls him close.

There's no other word for it. The figure snuggles into the touch. The small figure almost relaxes, still whimpering in what sounds like absolute agony. The little body shakes now and then, but the small boy presses into Bruce with all his strength and will, however tenuous that might be.

Yeah.

Bruce is in for it now.