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The idle chatter of the Bats filled Jason's ear. Spoiler was making fun of a lecture she had gotten from Bruce earlier, and Bruce himself gave random snorts of mirth every once in a while.
Joker had broken out of Arkham 2 days ago, and they were laughing.
Jason still smiled when he heard Bruce laugh.
He hadn't heard Damian's voice in a while, but he didn't seem to talk much while on patrol, so that didn't worry him.
Okay, it did, but he was always a little worried—League sightings kept him on his toes—but he wasn't overly concerned until Nightwing asked Robin for a sitrep and Robin didn't answer.
That set off the panic.
"Robin?"
Still no answer.
"He went dark on 14th south and Maybury."
"I'm 20 minutes out."
"Fifteen."
"At least a half an hour."
Jason was two streets away.
There was a young woman —probably no older than 17— on the corner, curled up on a bench and shaking. As soon as she saw Jason, she jumped up.
"Hood! 'E took Robin!"
Jason took a cautious step forward. "Who took 'im?"
"Joker," she breathed, and the Green howled, "shot 'im and dragged 'im off, I think 'e was still breathin', though."
Jason fought down the Green. Not yet.
"Which way?"
She pointed west. "Turned a corner just up 'head. At the payphone."
"Thank you," Jason shouted back to her, already running off.
"Get the little'un back, Mister Hood!" Was the last thing she yelled.
That part of Gotham was nothing but winding roads and dark alleys, but Jason knew how to find his way around well enough. He ended up at an old warehouse. Seemed like the kind of place the Joker would find nice and cozy. Jason quickly cased the thing, pushing down the foreign anger. The Lazarus Pit was not a good strategist. That was when he heard the laughter. The laughter, and the sounds of electricity popping, floating through a cracked window. He had a location. The window was easy enough to break, and he landed in a dimly lit room, occupied by only two people. One, the Joker. The other—
Jason's little brother, strapped to a table with thick leather straps, blood running down his chest, back arching and body jumping with the current of electricity pumped through him. His head was thrown back over the edge of the table, muscles in his neck straining.
Joker noticed the moment Jason dropped to the floor, but the electricity didn't stop for another few seconds.
"Ah, company!"
Jason just snarled, eyes jumping from Damian's twitching form to the clown. Joker must have sensed what he was going to do, because he made a show of easing a small lever on his control board higher. Damian screamed. Jason lunged, but stopped himself. The bastard could end his brother's life with a twitch.
And he knew it, judging from the smile on his face as he pushed the lever back down to almost zero.
"Ah, ah, little Robin! You've had your wings clipped once! Why not let someone else have their turn with the scissors?"
Joker knew who he was. Joker did, but Batman didn't. Jason didn't know how to feel, besides the obvious rage. It would probably hit harder when Damian wasn't sobbing on a table, straining against blood-soaked leather.
"Fuck you, clown. Let the kid go, and maybe I'll make your death quick." The Green was seeping into his vision, and everything was beginning to blur. The Pit wouldn't hurt Damian. It was tempting to let it take him, let it have it's way with the Joker, with the source of his nightmares.
But Joker's hand on the lever never moved. He kept it in the green, 8 mA.
The number at the top of the scale read 500 mA.
And there, right in the middle, bright red, was 200. Damian would be dead in seconds.
"Let him go."
"Hmm, nope! All you little birdies, always in the way. It's supposed to just be me and the Bat!" Joker was angry. Growling. His hand pushed the lever up and up—
Damian screamed again, and red lips stretched into a grotesque smile.
"You are fun to play with, I'll give you all that."
Which hurts more? A, or B?
Forehand or backhand?
Jason's mind was racing. He had to get the fucking clown away from his controls.
Or...
The electricity had to be coming from somewhere. Take that out, and he'd have the time to kill Joker before he could touch Damian.
Or it would just detonate, and they'd all die.
There it was. The battery, just behind the table. He had a clear shot just over Damian's shoulder.
He had to. Before any of the Bats showed up and the Joker got spooked.
Behind his back, he readied a pistol and a knife. He'd have no more than five seconds. Shoot the battery, cut Damian free, then shield him and hope.
He sucked in a deep breath and let the Green take over.
Tim found Damian first. He followed the sound of the explosion. He found Robin, the Red Hood, and a very dead Joker.
Damian was breathing shallowly but his eyes were open. Wrapped around him was Hood. No helmet, jacket torn to shreds.
Tim clicked his comm off.
"Is that—"
"Hood," came Damian's hoarse whisper.
"—Jason," he finished.
Hood snapped his gaze up and snarled, showing sharpened teeth.
"If you tell—" Damian coughed. Specks of red appeared in the corners of his mouth, "—anyone—"
"Relax, Baby Bat. Even if I did, they wouldn't believe me. How do we get him calm?"
Damian coughed again, and Tim noticed that he was clutching Hood's jacket. "Akhi, salim, safe," came the whisper.
Hood—Jason— just tucked him further into his chest.
"Jason, Joker is dead. Damian is alive. If you let go of him—"
The man's growl was terrifying, but Tim kept going.
"I can get him medical. Please. I promise he's safe with me." As Tim spoke, he inched forward.
"Truth, akhi. He's telling the truth."
Tim made a mental note to find out what akhi meant later.
Damian kept whispering to Hood, assuring him that he was okay, that Tim would keep him safe. And slowly, oh-so slowly, Hood loosened his grip, gradually standing when Tim came to take his cargo.
And then he snapped straight.
"Daami?" His voice sounded taut, like it would break if stretched any tighter.
"I'm safe, akhi. You kept me safe. You did well. You fulfilled the mission."
Tim didn't understand what the hell was happening, at all. What was their relationship?
He didn't dare ask, afraid Hood would go back into guard dog mode.
"Can I—"
"Yeah," Jason cleared his throat, "yeah. Get him to the cave. He was exposed to at least 60 milliamps."
"Shit."
"Yeah." Jason eased Damian into Tim's arms.
"I— Jason— how—"
"You don't wanna know. Take care of him. Update me." Then he pressed a kiss to Damian's head. "Stay safe, habibi."
"Always do."
Tim turned to leave, hand by his ear to link his comm, when Jason said his name.
"Yeah?"
"You made a good replacement."
When Tim turned back around, Jason was gone. He linked his comm.
"I got him, guys. Send the car to my location, he's pretty banged up." He hesitated when his gaze landed on the body, and added—
"Joker's dead."