Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid I misunderstood. Are you claiming to be Jason Peter Todd?”

“You heard right.”

“And you’re here to?“

" I'd like to...no, not 'like'. I'm not here to order a burger." He muttered the last part to himself. He cleared his throat and started over, staring the police woman directly in the eyes.

"I'm here to report a murder."

"A murder? Name of the victim?"

"Sheila Haywood."

Abigail had been having a pretty lazy night.

Sure, they had a bunch of drunks and thugs booked for starting fights but considering it was Gotham that was pretty slow. The police station was oddly unnatural without people yelling constantly. Maybe she just wasn't used to it. She'd been running the front desk for only a couple months after all. 

But this casual conversation was somehow more upsetting than the yelling.

An older boy, wearing a beat up leather jacket who had a strange white stripe in his hair stood at her desk. He kept rolling an unlit cigar between his fingers while she stared at him in disbelief.

Abigail pulled up her database and typed in the name.

"The only Sheila Haywood registered in Gotham passed away three years ago."

"Yes, that's the murder I want to report."

"It was a terrorist bombing in a foreign country. The same one that killed Jason Todd."

"Didn’t quite happen like they wanted. The story is a cover up. She was murdered by the Joker who set off a bomb.” The boy shrugged. “ I’ve been in hiding since."

Abigail raised her eyebrow at him. This was the single craziest report she’d gotten. Too bad it’s just a conspiracy theorist's fantasy. Abigail would have been the talk of the water cooler if it was true. Discreetly, Abigail pushed the forms away.

"Sir, this a police station, not an Internet forum. Please don't take up our time with unsubstantiated rumors and theories. Close the door on your way out."

"I'm not lying. I was there."

Abigail couldn't help it, she lost the will to be polite. The things people stoop to for attention. She started picking at her nails. 

"The only other person that was there is also dead sir. A witness confirmed both these deaths on site. No one else was found in the vicinity. "

"Your witness is Bruce Wayne. The man who did the cover up. He lied about it all, including my death."

Abigail sent the boy the nastiest glare she could. People really were scum. Wayne lost his kid and all people ask is how they can profit off of it. Did he actually just claim Bruce Wayne lied about a dead child just so he could maybe get five minutes of air time with Vicki Vale?  Abigail was going to have to call for backup if this kept going.

"Sir are you aware these are serious allegations?" 

"Pull up a picture. I'll wait." 

Abigail did so but she kept the boy in the corner of her eye. You never know who might turn out to be the next big loony. 

Jason Todd had very few reference photos, but they were enough. A thin, black haired, blue eyed little boy with freckles. Another photo showed him older, taller and healthier, more defined cheek bones and facial structure in general. Abigail used that one as reference and went to find the differences. 

Except, when she turned back to the boy all she saw were the similarities. 

The facial structure, the freckles, the hair and eye color. He grew taller, his shoulders were broader and hair less curly. All that matched what the boy in her picture should look like in three years time. The more she kept looking the more her heart started pounding. 

Getting desperate, she pulled out an aging program they sometimes used for references. Inputting the photos she typed in the necessary info. 

"Age sir?" 

"Eighteen." 

That lined up with the birthday. She plugged it in and waited. Five minutes later an eerily similar face stared at her from the computer screen. It was almost perfect, if a bit thinner in the picture. 

They'd have to do a blood test. And a fingerprint test. Ask personal history. Call the commissioner. Call the fucking cemetery and ask if they're missing someone. 

Hell, maybe even an exorcist.

"Now", the phantom said, "if I finally have your attention, I'm here to report the murder of my mother." 

__________________________________________

Commissioner Gordon smoked his fifth cigar of the evening waiting for Batman to finally show up. The night was rainy and miserable, but so was everything else so it fit the mood.

Batman's arrival was as silent and dramatic as always, and Gordon skipped the pleasantries. He pointed his half smoked cigar at the bat.

"We have a problem."

"Go on." The shadow ground out. 

"A few nights ago a person walked into a police station and reported a murder. They claim the Joker killed someone and they witnessed the whole thing."

"How is that a problem."

"I know, that's just Thursday night around here. The report should have just been brought to me so I can investigate and put it on his file. But something fishy happened. 

Before I even get the report, I get a call.

The DGP wants to see me. So, I go.

I get there to find the mayor waiting in his office. The two talk around more bushes than I can count and finally tell me that the report is going straight to the higher office.

That never happened before in my entire career. "

Gordon threw the cigar stub onto the ground and snuffed the dying ember out.

"So, I argue about procedure and process and they basically tell me it's beyond me now. I've only ever heard of bull like that once, and it was because the case involved the president's family. No one gets that kind of treatment unless they're royalty.

I come back to find the report in pieces. Just enough to say I got the damned thing but nothing in it's useful.

The victim's name, the witness name, hell even the date. All gone. "

Gordon started pacing the wet roof, Batman's eyes following from the shadows.

" All I know is that the Joker is the accused. But I didn't get what any of the hubbub was about. They know they can't get him a trial, he's been diagnosed insane more times than I've smoked a cigar.

Whatever the hell is going on, the fact the mayor was there screams politics. Someone big is making moves, and the fact they involve the Joker is enough for me to worry."

Gordon opened his coat to reveal a thin case file which he gave over to Batman.

"That's all I have. My hands are tied beyond it. The DGP sent over one of his lap dogs to keep an eye on me since the talk. I have to play nice. "

"I'll check into it. "

"Yeah, I'm relying on you. You don't ever play nice."

And with a flash of lightning Batman was gone.

__________________________________________

“So, if I understand this correctly, someone accused Gotham’s most hated mass murderer of murder and this is a problem?”

“No. The problem is that both the physical and digital report files have been heavily censored by someone with a lot of connections. I need to figure out why and who.”

“Well, I can stick around for a few days and help! Whatever’s going on is a lot more fun than my cases in Blud anyway.”

“It’s not supposed to be fun.”

“No, but that’s what we call a happy accident.”

Batman grunted. Nightwing took that to mean he could stay.

“Is there anything in the file?”

“The victim was female, mid-thirties, Gotham born. The person who reported the crime is simply put in the files as ‘her son’. “

“Well that can’t be up to regulation.”

“All the relevant information was similarly covered. No cause of death, no autopsy report, no date of death.”

“So we have nothing? Great start.”

“No. There is one possible lead. The date of the report was handwritten. The person who filed it is also censored, but Oracle was able to pull up the names of every station attendant from that day. We then cross-referenced the handwritten date with their handwriting and have narrowed it down to three possible stations. “

“Well, I guess I know what we’re doing today.”

“Take the east, I’ll take the west. Meet up at the south station in two hours.”

“Would it kill you to say please once in a while?”

__________________________________________

Both east and west proved to be false leads. Nightwing’s attendant didn’t file a single homicide report for a female that night, and his co-attendant hadn’t even shown up for work. Batman’s station had a better chance, but it turned out the attendant only ever used red pens. The report was in blue.

Finally, they met up at the last station, the Bowery precinct.

“You think good cop-bad cop works on cops?”

Predictably, Batman didn’t answer. They dramatically opened the front door and walked inside. To an audience of literally one person.

The extremely sleepy officer yelped and snapped to attention. “Batman?  Nightwing? ”,he rubbed his eyes. “No way.”

“Yes way actually. “

“Are-Are you here to report a crime?”

“Well, not really. We would have gone to the commish if we had one of those I think.”

“Oh um-I guess-“

Batman interrupted. “Enough. Friday 9^th, Abigail Hart was working the front desk. She should be here now. Not you.”

The guy visibly swallowed. “Um. Yeah, she did. She took a sudden vacation. They dumped all her shifts on me.”

“Vacation. Why?”

“Sh-She won a cruise trip. A raffle happened for the precinct and they gave her a month paid leave too. But if you ask me they rigged the whole thing on purpose.”

“Oh? Bitter you didn’t get some time off?” Nightwing cast a look around for cameras.

“I mean, we basically all are. But Abigail hasn’t been doing too well. Keeps acting like someone’s out to get her. Says she saw a ghost. Can you believe it? I think the boss did it to give her a sabbatical.”

“So he paid for the whole trip? How?”

“Oh, he didn’t. The raffle was sponsored by some big wig company. They gave me this mug.”
The officer picked up his standard mug and turned it around to reveal the LexCorp. logo on it.

That ended the conversation.

Batman turned around, his cape swishing behind him, and left through the front door. Nightwing sighed and gave the officer a smile.

“Thanks for the help officer! Hope you have more luck on the next raffle.”

And Nightwing followed after his broody mentor.

 __________________________________________

Back at the cave the two vigilantes assessed the info.

“So I guess we answered the ‘who’ part.  I didn’t think Lex had this many connections in Gotham though.”

“He has some very important ones. But not enough to pull this off. He isn’t working alone.”

“Any guesses?”

“One. “

Batman pulled up a number of news articles from around two years ago.

‘LexCorp. Partners with Head Industries.’

“Talia? Well she does have her fingers in Gotham’s politics.”

“And a strong vice grip on the DGP.”

“But why? None of this is either of their MO’s. They don’t have ties to the Joker.”

“No, but if they get him out of Arkham there might be some unknown benefit to them.”

“Well. Now what? Can’t just call up and ask. Hello, Mister Luthor? Yes, the best vigilante in all of Gotham here. Can you tell us why you’re tampering in Gotham’s legal system? We’ll stop making fun of your shiny head if you tell us.”

“We can try.”

“Wait, what?”

__________________________________________

Lex Luthor was enjoying a glass of red wine when the windows of his top floor office exploded in a rain of shards. Batman rose from his crouch and stood in the middle of Lex’s office.

Sighing, Lex spilled his glass of wine onto the floor, the shards that fell into the glass clinking as they landed.

“If you caped crusaders had more manners my window replacement budget would be around 23 percent smaller.”

“Luthor. What are you doing in Gotham.”

Lex waved his arm at the vast Metropolis view. “Does this look like Gotham? Or are you truly as blind as a bat?”

“You and Talia are manipulating the police. Why.”

Luthor chuckled. “I’m afraid I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. If something is happening in Gotham the one you actually want to talk to would be miss Head. Not that you’ll have much luck I’m afraid.”

“Why?”

“She’s unreachable until further notice. Something about a court case taking all her time.”

“Neither of you have ties to the Joker. What’s your game here Luthor?”

The businessman simply smirked. “Even if there was a game Batman why in the world would I tell you the rules? That would be the easiest way for me to win wouldn’t it?”

“You never win Luthor. Not against Superman and never against me. Whatever you’re doing in Gotham will be stopped.”

Batman walked over to the window opening and pulled out his grapple, but before he jumped Luthor’s voice called out.

“Ah, I have never won it’s true. I wonder if it’s because you always fight for the victims while I fight for the benefit of the system.”

Batman kept silent, and Luthor shook his head with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I suppose there’s no point in wondering. I am a scientist first and foremost after all. I’ll simply have to test it and see. What do you think Batman? Will the result be any different if our roles were reversed?”

But when Luthor looked up for an answer Batman was already gone.

__________________________________________

Bruce returned to the cave and refused to leave it till he figured out what was happening in his city. Dick helped up to the point when he realized they were absolutely stuck and decided to practice his gymnastics while Bruce stared at his screen.

Talia had truly gone underground. Her last known location being in Africa. The cameras from the police station have no recordings of the night of the report. Their one witness is unreachable.

They had nothing. But Bruce refused to admit it.

Alfred dutifully refilled their plates and drinks but even he couldn’t find it in him to be snarky with his charges. It was the Joker. Bruce won’t hear anything until he knows the clown is safely kept captive.

The old butler was grateful his youngest charge was kilometers away with his friends. He feared Bruce wouldn’t take well to seeing Robin colors at the moment. Not if they were on a living boy.

The cave really only echoed with the sounds of bats.

That’s how the day passed.

And then their big break in the case came in the form of Vicki Vale and an emergency report.

“This is Vicki Vale reporting live from the Gotham courthouse. It has just been confirmed that a trial will be held on the charges raised against The Joker. He is being accused of homicide, malicious and with intent.

The arraignment of the case as well as the preliminary hearing were held in virtual quiet and without knowledge of the press. When asked, the judge said the decision was not made with ill intent but out of procedure for Joker trials. After the first trial that proclaimed the Joker criminally insane, all subsequent trials were thrown out in the preliminary hearings, on the grounds of the insanity defense holding against all charges.

The judge expected today’s accusation to be no different. However, for some unknown reason, the charges were deemed worthy of trial.

We spoke to The Joker’s state assigned defense attorney and he had this to say:

“Get out of my face! I don’t know what’s going on, this isn’t procedure! Everyone knows the clown is insane, this is all just a waste of time.”

The Joker is never present for the preliminary hearings as to avoid creating dangerous situations but his presence will be required for the pretrial hearings and the jury trial.

Seeing as this will be The Jokers first appearance in court in over twenty years we will be following the case closely and reporting on the events.

Join us tomorrow as we follow the case of The People vs The Joker.”

Chapter Text

Talia stared out at the dirty streets of Gotham’s lower belly with a look of clear disdain.

“I shall never understand your father’s obsession with this city. He could have had untold beauty in the east at the tips of his fingers and yet he chose to return to…this.”-she waved her hand at the stumbling drunks in the alleys below.

The teen behind her rolled his eyes and continued reading through the papers on his desk, balancing on the back legs of the chair he was sitting on.

“First of all my father actually came from those streets. As did I thank you. But since I know you’re talking about Bruce; what’s there more to say other than the guy’s messed in the head.”

“It is not his head that’s the issue”, she paused and turned to the teen, “it is his heart. Far more worrisome I’m afraid. Minds can be changed but hearts- well, you are a rather strong example of how the heart refuses to change.”

“That’s a real nice way to say I’m stubborn Tals, thanks.”

She smiled at her charge. “Stubborn yes. As all great men in history were. Shall you be joining me for the pretrial tomorrow?”

Finally, Jason looked up at her, green tinted eyes shining in the dark room. “Not yet. I want him to squirm first. He’ll be there in disguise probably, to keep an eye on the clown. I’ll watch the live feed instead.”

“Fair enough. Lex called earlier as well, says Batman gave him a surprise visit.”

“The bald bastard didn’t like that I’m guessing.”

“He doesn’t appreciate having to get new windows no. But Lex is a man made of ego, the visit made him more excited than annoyed.”

“Oh goody. I’m so glad Luthor enjoyed the attention.” Jason spat out. “I still think we could have handled this without him. Can’t trust that pretentious jackass.“

“Yes, I’m aware. As you are fully aware this isn’t a game of masks and capes. This is politics, a game of connections and favors. I couldn’t help you properly on my own.”

Jason sighed and let the chair fall to the floor with a thud. “Yeah, I know. You’re already doing more than I figured you would.” He ran a hand through his hair catching on his bangs. “Thanks Tals. For all of it.”

“My pleasure lamb, it was always my pleasure.”

__________________________________________

Back at the cave, Dick Grayson let out a confused huff.

“How in the world did they get the court in their hands?”

“The mayor. Gordon says he saw him at the DGP’s office.”

“So what are we thinking? Breakout attempt? They drag him to court and then make a distraction so he can run away?”

“Possibly. But why not simply break him out of Arkham.”

“Less security at the court.”

“But far more wasted time and effort. Do Talia and Lex seem like people who waste time and effort?”

Dick couldn’t answer. He placed his chin in his hand and thought of possible outcomes, all simply leading to Joker breaking out. There would be no other conclusion, other than Joker simply getting sent to Arkham again. But when have things ever been simple in Gotham.

“I don’t understand why you’re thinking so hard about this. The defense is just going to plead insanity, they’ll test him and that’s it. Trial over. All this is is a cover up for something else Bruce. We need to be at that trial to make sure the clown doesn’t successfully run away.”

Bruce didn’t answer beyond a thoughtful hum.

__________________________________________

The street to the courthouse was filled with a sea of excited reporters. They all pushed against each other in effort to try and capture the moment the doors of the white Arkham van opened and brought the Joker out into the light of murky day.

The armed guards took their time undoing the locks and opening the heavy doors.

All the yelling, excited voices and angry shouts silenced once the sound of giggling cut through the air. A camera flashed and lit up The Joker’s white grinning face.

They carried him out in a wheelchair to which he had been tied to from neck to toe in restraints, only his head capable of slight movement. He looked completely comfortable. As he took in the mute crowd he laughed.

“Hello Gotham! Miss me?”

None of the reporters dared ask a question.

__________________________________________

Bruce Wayne, disguised as a downtrodden bearded red head, sat in the peanut gallery as they brought the Joker inside. Nightwing was on standby on the windows above the room.

“Everything in position B?”

“Nothing suspicious.”

“Outside as well. What’s the clown doing?”

Joker was swiveling his head left and right, taking in the faces, the television cameras, the crowd and giggling.

“My, my, my, a full house! I haven’t had a crowd come see me like this in ages~ Ohohoh, I’m just shivering with stage fright!”

“He’s enjoying the spotlight.”

“Just so you know I’m breaking his jaw if he tries to run. I’m not accepting any criticism.”

Bruce didn’t have any to offer.

As he waited for trial to start a familiar figure slid into the seat next to Bruce.

“Hello Beloved. It has been a while.”

“Talia. What are you doing here?”

“Why, the same as you I suppose. Making sure things don’t get out of hand.”

“I don’t know what it is you want with him Talia but you can’t trust the Joker. Do not let that madman escape from here.”

Talia’s silky smooth voice gave a soft laugh and a pang of nostalgia came with it. “Oh Beloved, do not worry about that. No one wishes for that vile little man to escape. Quite the opposite in fact.”

Bruce tenses. “An assassination attempt won’t work. Nightwing is on standby.”

“Oh, I am aware. I do apologies for all the political games I have been playing, but you must understand, we couldn’t have you interfering before it was too late.”

“Too late?”

“Yes.” She stood from her seat and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “As you know Beloved, there is only one true way to beat you. It is to not give you enough time to prepare.”

And with that she turned around and walked to the very front bench, directly behind the prosecutor chairs.

The players took their places, the judge walked in, the room silenced and rose to their feet.

The judge was an elderly black man, who seemed to be about the same age as the court itself. Bruce knew the man personally and had been glad when they assigned him to the case, knowing he could not be bought for any price.

“Please be seated.”

Finally, the trial started and Bruce prepared himself. Whatever was going on had to do with the victim. They had to be someone of high rank, or enormous value to cause all of this. Depending on the name they bring up Bruce might be able to put the puzzle pieces together.

From her seat at the front Talia sent Bruce a knife edge smile.

“This is the case of The People vs The Joker. The charges against the accused are homicide, first degree of one Sheila Haywood on the 27^th of April three years ago.”

Bruce’s world stood still.

His breath refused to leave his chest, an insistent ringing suddenly tuning out everything else.

He could taste sand on his tongue.

The only thing that broke through his haze was the Joker’s loud voice.

“Who?”

No one answered him. Bruce broke from his trance and realized Dick was asking questions in his com.

“B? Are you there?”

Bruce coughed and covered his mouth to answer. “Here.”

“They can’t mean that Sheila Haywood right? B, that can’t be true, the report said the person who made the report was-”

Her son.

But neither of them finished that sentence.

The judge continued.

“Mr. Bait. You are here on behalf of the people to accuse The Joker of homicide of Shelia Haywood on April 27^th three years ago in Ethiopia. Is that correct?”

It was. It was and it shouldn’t have been because Bruce had framed it all as a terrorist attack.

“Correct.”

“And mister Fell you were assigned by the state to represent the Joker. How do you plead mister Joker?”

“Well I’m not quite sure judgy! I don’t know which broad you’re going on about.”

His attorney jumped in. “Guilty by insanity your honor.”

“The death was ruled a terrorist attack originally. Are you sure you would not plead innocent?”

The attorney looked to the Joker from where he stood, the far far end of their table. Everyone caught his sneer.

“We’re sure your honor.”

“Alright. Be seated. Mister Bait you may make your opening statement.”

Mr Bait, a tall blond man in an expensive grey suit faced the judge and spoke in a sure strong voice.

“Your honor. Honorable jury.

The facts of this case are very simple.

On the 27^th of April three years ago The Joker was seen by multiple people in Ethiopia around the Valley in which the bombing that killed Sheila Haywood happened. In that bombing another life was taken, the one of a fifteen year old boy by the name of Jason Todd, adopted ward of Bruce Wayne.

It is Mister Wayne who stated no other suspicious faces were seen around the area, and that led to the case being filled under terrorism. The case was not put under much scrutiny as the area truly was known for terrorism and Wayne’s loss was fresh.

However, recently a witness came forward who claims the Joker set the bombs and that he was present for the whole event. Furthermore they state that the Joker tortured them as well.”

Liars. Liars, liars, liars. There was no one else, no one but that goddamn clown, that woman and-

And his so-

And Robin.

They were using his Robin’s name like it was nothing.

Bruce couldn’t get the name passed his chocked throat.

“That witness has been in hiding for the past three years, recovering from the many injuries he sustained that night, waiting for the day he finally tells his story.

He lives in fear of the person who ruined his life. Of the people who tried to bury him alive your honor! Of the people who succeeded. That person came to a police station and reported the murder of their mother, subjugated themselves to numerous blood tests and questions and is here today to tell the world a very important fact.

Jason Peter Todd is not dead.”

The courtroom erupted into sound.

__________________________________________

Bruce isn’t sure how he made it out of the courtroom. Everything felt numb as the sea of people carried him through the door.

Once the crowd finally dispersed and Bruce could walk of his own will he turned towards a nearby bench and sat down. Jason’s name kept echoing around him, people mentioning it at every turn.

Bruce had thought this was over. He had put a ban on Jason’s name years ago.

Bruce breathed in. And he let go. And all the numbness started being replaced by pitch black rage.

How. Dare. They.

How dare Talia even take Jason’s name into her mouth like she had any right. But to create a fake, just so she could mess with Bruce? Didn't she have any shame?

Like any of them are even slightly aware of what they’re doing.

Not only were they disrespecting the dead, they’re placing the entire family’s safety at risk. If the Joker is put on stand, if he says he killed Robin and people believe it everything will go up in flames. Dick, Tim, Barbara, all of their lives will be ruined. Gordon’s as well. All they have to do is point out he was at the funeral.

The trial needed to be stopped.

Bruce needed to find their ‘star witness’.

__________________________________________

“You heard it here first dear viewers! The prosecution’s star witness is a boy believed dead, the charges are homicide of the highest degree and the prosecution is asking for nothing less than a death sentence for The Joker.

We can now confirm the reason this trial went on where the other trials did not is the supposed involvement of the prince of Gotham himself, Bruce Wayne!

According to the prosecution Jason Todd’s adoptive father framed the crime as a terrorist attack, though they have not yet stated a motive. People are flooding online forums with theories as to what all this means and how it is possible.

We have decided to ask our fellow citizens what their opinions are:

‘Stupidest thing I’ve heard. Bruce Wayne got his own kid killed? Have you ever heard Wayne talk? The guys as bright as a broken bulb. Like hell he did all that. I believe the Joker did it though. When is he ever not guilty.’

‘It’s all horrible. I can’t believe they let that madman out of the asylum. No good can come from this.’

‘Eh, don’t really care. Prosecutor guy is kinda cute though. If you see this babe, call me~’

'That prosecutor is a lying jerk! Wayne loved that kid and all he’s doing is using a dead child for media attention. How is anyone buying his bull****.’

‘You know dude, I wonder. Jason Todd’s casket was closed right? And they say its cause of the bomb but like- the only people at the funeral were Wayne’s close friends. And then that death certificate is from a foreign country dude! You know how easily you can fake those things? I don’t know dude. All this seems sketch to me.’

Bruce Wayne has officially been made a part of the case and is expected at the upcoming trial, along with the public’s first look at the supposedly alive Jason Todd. Stay tuned as we bring you all the news live!”

Chapter Text

Talia stayed behind after the pretrial finished officially, watching her surroundings with a critical gaze.

If anything, Jason certainly got yesterday’s wish. Her Beloved looked just about ready to faint, a look he most certainly wouldn’t have allowed himself if he was wearing the cowl.

Ashen skin, slack face and wide lost eyes that didn’t seem to register he was being pushed out of the courtroom. The great Batman caught by surprise.

They’d achieved the first step of the unachievable.

Giggling brought her back to the target, whom the guards were checking over for any lax bonds.

“Now now fellas, no need to be so handsy. Wouldn’t want to lose a finger or seven~”

The cowardly guard actually flinched at his words, hesitating before continuing his duties. Was there anyone in this pit that didn’t fear the white smear of a human?

Perhaps hearing her thoughts the clown looked up and straight at her, across the room and into her eyes with pure clarity. They kept the contact for a second, two, neither looking away. The Joker’s eyes narrowed. Talia didn’t react. Three seconds.  Four. The guards turned the chair around.

“Hey! You made me lose my staring match! Turn this chair around this minute or you can forget the secret Santa presents this year!”

The guards wheeled him outside ignoring the random shouts.

Talia remembered Jason’s words with a sudden clearer understanding.

----------------------------

The two had found themselves in Limerick, Ireland. The old city held stone castles and secrets so ancient their original tongue was probably lost to time itself. One of those secrets was the League of Assassins base dugout in the middle ages underneath a tower.

It was neither large nor grand, positioned on the map in such a way that the base hadn’t seen use in some 500 years. Left to collect dust in its uselessness, it was the perfect place for a runaway and a traitor to hide for a little while.

Their plans were still only being made, general outlines clear but details murky. Between planning, gathering connections and recourses, running from her father, Jason’s pit madness came and went like a roaring tide. It had only been a few months after his failed submersion and balancing everything along with his recovery would have broken someone of a weak mind.

Talia al Ghul was not of weak mind.

And to her pleasure neither was Jason Todd.

The boy took his broken body, his pit madness, his stolen world, his erased existence and he still found will to fight. And even with his old way of fighting taken from his hands the boy still refused to let his enemies win.

In another life he would have made an unbeatable warrior.

In this one he deserved to find his justice.

“Talia? Where are we?”

She turned to the boy, his eyes finally clear after his last pit attack.

“Good morning Jason. We arrived in Ireland some two hours ago.”

“Fuck, I lost time again.”

“Do try and curb your tongue. It is not fitting of a warrior.”

“How much do you want to bet all your big bad assassins swear behind your back?”

She sighed. She will always wonder if the snarky attitude was an American thing or simply a Jason thing.

“Gambling is for the foolish. Why should I wager on information when I can seek out actually useful information.”

“Oh? Are we here for something useful then?”

“The granddaughter of one of father’s older friends lives here. She studied American law to such a degree very few can claim. You shall be clearing up the plan with her guidance.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at her.

“Me? What about you?”

“I shall be going home.”

Jason jumped to his feet.

“What? Tals you can’t. Ra’s still wants both our heads on a plate right?”

She placed her hand on his shoulder trying to release some of his tension.

“Do not worry yourself Jason, I am far from throwing myself into fire. I’ve given father enough time to calm down and listen to reason. Now that we have a plan he might benefit from, his ire should fade quickly.”

She noticed his hair had still not been combed, forgetting to do it himself in his daze. Gently she ran her fingers through the messy white bangs.

“And we most certainly need his resources if we are to achieve our goals. I must go.”

The boy’s displeasure was clear all over his face.

“At least take me with you. You should have someone at your six.”

“You are of no use to me in a fight lamb. You know this.”

The boy looked away, the familiar regret and shame painting his features. She smoothed out his bangs.

“But I thank you for the offer. “

The two proceeded to pull out supplies and papers, continuing their efforts to make a case strong enough to shake up a system made to ensure justice was almost never served. It is in those plans that she noticed a flaw.

“I assume you have a ready leverage to hold over the Jokers head?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your plans all center on the fact he will participate in the trial. What if chooses to escape, ignores the proceeding entirely? Why do you assume he will play along?”

Jason’s eyes left the desk and the pure rage in them spoke to his certainty.

“Oh he won’t go anywhere. We’re giving him everything he wants. An audience, a chance to retell his greatest joke so that everyone can hear. Batman’s greatest failure in the spotlight, and Joker will bask in every second of it. Don’t let him fool you Talia, nothing he does is simply out of insanity. It all has one goal. We’re giving him a once in life shot at breaking me down in front of the whole world. What better way to show Batman he’s right?

He’ll play along. If that’s what it takes to give Batman his one bad day he’ll do anything.”

 ----------------------------

As she watched them wheel out the madman she fully understood what he’d meant. The clown hadn’t tried a single thing all day, not even testing his bonds.

He was fully enjoying every second.

----------------------------

Bruce followed Talia’s car to a luxury hotel, right in the middle of the Diamond district. Searching her room while she showered had been easy, the guards barley noticing him before he knocked them out. Unfortunately, there was almost nothing to find.

Her bags were unpacked, she had just arrived at the room it would seem. The things were only enough for one person so the witness wasn’t staying with her. He shifted focus to finding an address or phone number but ran out of time, caught with her phone in hand.

Talia stepped out of the bathroom in a lose dress, her hair wound up in a towel. She shot him an unimpressed look.

“I do hope you forgive my lack of hostess skills Beloved, I was not aware I was having your company.”

Bruce didn’t feel a single inkling of anything other than the anger under his skin.

“There are some things Talia, some lines, I can’t forgive people for. Do you really have so little shame?”

“Shame? What exactly am I supposed to be ashamed about?”

“You’re using a dead child’s name to get what you want. You barley met him Talia, now you’re bringing out his short painful life for people to gawk at like he’s a zoo animal! Not even Ra’s would do something so- cruel.”

“My, my. Cruel is a very interesting word. Which part do you consider cruel? The one where the world finally learns of what happened to your underage son or the part where his murderer finally receives his justice?”

“He deserves to rest in peace. All you’ll achieve with this is making sure everyone remembers him as the boy who got impersonated after death.”

“Which is so much worse to the way you remember him, which was as a failure and reckless tragedy? One of is cruel, that much is true.”

“None of this concerns you! My family has always been off limits Talia, you had no right to do any of this. ”

“Or what Beloved? Your price for torture and murder of children is a proverbial slap on the wrist. Am I supposed to be afraid?”

Bruce snapped his jaw shut. He needed to calm down, threatening an al Ghul never got anyone anywhere. He breathed in and resumed more calmly.

“What do you want.”

Talia shook her head at him, turning around and sitting on the edge of her bed with crossed legs.

“I am helping Jason get what he wants.”

Bruce shivered at the ease with which she spoke.

“What is he? An impersonator? A clone? “ Luthor’s involvement certainly made more sense if it was true.

“He is Jason Todd. The one you lost.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is no trick, or ploy. The person who will take the stand is the same Robin.”

“Robin’s body is still in its coffin.”

“How do you know?”

“I put sensors on the lid, nothing has moved since it was placed. Your lies don’t hold water Talia.”

She angled her head. “I assure you the body is not there. But there is no point in claiming such things when you can simply check.”

Bruce tensed. Did they actually tamper with the body?

“Why are you here Bruce?”

“Where is your witness?”

“I do believe they would call that witness intimidation.”

“Talia. Either tell me or-“

“Yes, yes, do spare me the vague threats.” She motioned with her hands for him to give over her phone. He obliged and listened as she placed a call, Ubu walking into the room shortly after.

“Ubu will take you to the last place we met. I doubt he is still there but it is the best I can do.”

“This isn’t over Talia.”

“Far from it Beloved.”

----------------------------

Bruce was taken into the poorer parts of Gotham, lit up skyscrapers replaced with crumbling apartment buildings the further they went. In the heart of it all stood Crime Alley and a Bruce suppressed a shiver.

If there was a place he would hide it would be Crime Alley.

Bruce shut the thought down as quickly as it came.

Ubu pointed him to the top floor of a prohibition era building, and left quickly after. That just left Bruce in the place where his nightmares live. His nightmares and one single good memory.

‘I didn’ steal anythin’, go and find a gang member to beat up or somethin’.’

‘And the reason you’re standing next to my last remaining tire with a tire iron?’

The little boy gave him a smile that was pure attitude.

‘Tightenin’ your bolts. You’re welcome.’

Bruce walked past the alley as quick as humanly possible.

----------------------------

The apartment was vacated by the time Bruce arrived.

Just like everything in the Alley it was a dirty, borderline unusable space that reeked of mold. There was almost nothing there, save for a TV that certainly didn’t belong, a bed and a packet of cigars.

Bruce reached for the cigars first.

He hadn’t seen the brand in three years. They had changed the packaging, the size as well but the colors were the same. He wondered if the fragrance changed at all.

Inside the box was a lonely cigar and a piece of paper. On it a phone number.

Bruce used his burner phone and let it ring. Once. Twice. Thrice.

The line clicked.

“You’re losing your touch old man. I was expecting you here ages ago.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. The voice was similar to Jason’s but deeper than Bruce remembered, accent far less noticeable.

“Who are you.”

“Damn. I knew I was forgettable B, but not quite this much. Small, blue eyed, black haired orphan ring a bell? Oh.

No, I suppose that would only confuse you actually. So many of those running around these days.”

“You’re not my son.”

“Well on that one we agree. But just so we make things clear, I am Jason. That would be the second Robin, if you’re losing count.”

“Do you think this is funny?”

“Well you did used to laugh at my jokes. You still don’t believe me do you?”

“There is nothing to believe.”

“Alright. I’ll make this simple. Do you remember Jenny’s dinner?”

Bruce didn’t answer.

“Small old timey place down the road of the alley. It’s not there anymore, but you took me there once. The first night we met, you noticed I was three seconds away from fainting of hunger so you took me to get fast food of all things.”

Bruce’s heart got faster the more the voice spoke.

“Alfie never forgave you for feeding a malnourished kid junk food for his first good meal. Kept beating you over the head with the fact I needed nothing but organic. I was too chicken to tell him those burgers were probably the best thing I ever ate.”

Bruce gazed down at the single cigar left in the pack.

‘Always leave one for a rainy day B. Never know when you might need a smoke to chase away the bad thoughts.’

Bruce wished his voice was stronger when he said: “My son is dead.”

“Yeah Wayne. I know.”

The line hung up. Bruce redialed but it went to voice mail.

Bruce rolled the cigar between his fingers and tried to remember something, anything that might be wrong in what the voice had claimed.

‘You need to stop those Jaylad, they’re really bad for you.’

‘Yeah yeah, I know B. If it makes ya feel any better I give most of em away to the girls down on the corner. I just leave the one.’

Bruce pulled out his lighter and lit the cigar up, letting the smoke slowly surround him.

It smelled exactly the same.

----------------------------

Dick Grayson walked from one end of the computer to the other for the hundredth time. He kept waiting for his old partner to come home and was quickly losing his patience.

After court Bruce just disappeared for a day with a message that basically translated into “don’t call me, I’m busy”.

Like their entire lives weren’t just flipped over like a pancake.

The house phone rang every minute. Reporters. The computer kept pinging with JL calls every hour. Mostly just Uncle Clark. Dick’s phone had more messages than Gotham had gargoyles.

Barbara was seething. Dick hadn’t heard her that angry in years. Tim was flying home that night. Alfred broke Dick’s heart just by looking like the entire world just spat on his grandson’s grave.

And Dick might feel slightly ill. He’ll decide on that later.

He’s not even sure which part is the one that bothers him the most. He hates that someone is out there claiming to be Jason to hurt his family but-

The prosecutor didn’t tell a fake story. He just told the truth. Jason and his mom did die by that clowns hands. In essence, for the first time since Jason died someone was actually…looking for justice. By the actual system. What they were doing wasn’t wrong in principal.

But if they kept going they were going to uncover all of them. They’ll send Bruce to jail. Gordon will lose his job, Tim won’t ever lead even a semi normal life.

Jason might get his justice but is it worth the price? Is it worth throwing their lives away when Jason isn’t even alive to see it?

No. The answer is no.

It’s awful, it’s against the justice they all fight for, but Dick can’t let his family crumble over this. It won’t bring Jason back. So the choice is really only one.

It’s a sad thought, that the things they fight for don’t apply to them. For anyone else their path would have been clear. But being a part of this life meant giving up some rights others have. Dick just hoped Jason understood that enough to forgive them in the afterlife.

Even if it did make Dick feel sick, they had to make sure the truth never gets out.

Finally, Dick heard the sounds of Bruce’s fast footsteps enter the cave from the outside entrance.

“B. Finally, you’re here. We need to figure out a game plan, we can’t let-“

Bruce held up a hand and Nightwing immediately stopped talking.

The man went to the computer and pinged the last call.

Superman picked up immediately. “Bruce! I’ve been calling for ages, I was just about to come and see if you were alright.”

“Do it. Meet me at Gotham Cemetery.”

“I- What? Bruce are you-“

“You heard me.”

And with that he hung up.

Dick swallowed, the atmosphere in the cave feeling darker than it had since…well since Jason died.

“Bruce. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Something in Dick’s tone must have called out to the man because Bruce finally let his stance become more relaxed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning to face Dick for the first time.

“I went looking for their witness. Talia refused to give me exact information but she did give me a lead. He was gone by the time I arrived.”

“So you didn’t find anything?”

“No. I did.”

Apparently that was enough information according to Bruce because he turned to leave, stopping only because Dick caught his arm.

“Oh no you don’t. I deserve to know your next step B, this involves all of us not just you.”

“This is my responsibility.”

“Yeah, and it’s my family. So stop being a jackass and start talking. Why are you going to the cemetery?”

Bruce didn’t look happy about it but he answered.

“To check the coffin. I he’s in there we can tell the court to exhume it and end this quickly.”

 “Oh. Can I come?”

“Why?”

Dick sent him a look. He gestured to Bruce’s entire being. “You look ready to fall over for one, and for two I want to be there.”

Bruce sighed but he nodded, again confirming Dick’s theory that things were very very messy.

And they were about to get a lot messier.

__________________________________________

Clark had never been to Jason’s grave.

He had wanted to come to the funeral but all his attempts to reach Bruce and ask were pointless. Bruce shut himself in to the point Clark truly felt like his friend was going to destroy himself in grief.

Clark still kept coming by the house, making sure his friend was aware he wasn’t alone. Ma told him there was more he could really do.

‘You won’t understand till you’re a parent honey but there is nothing more painful than watching your child get hurt. Having to bury poor Jason…I pray to God Bruce finds a way to make it through it Clark. There’s no torture in the world more painful.’

And somehow Bruce did pull himself together. Or well, Dick and Tim pulled him together and Bruce kept going. Things got better, he returned to the League, he spoke to his friends again.

But never about Jason. The single time he did it was to say Robin was dead. Just hearing the name of his dead son in passing has Bruce’s heart rate pick up, his shoulders tense. Someone once called Jay Garrick by his full name in joke and Bruce gave a full body jolt. Clark had never seen Bruce flinch till then.

That’s why he ran out of the office when Vicki Vale’s report sent the entire Daily Planet into a frenzy. Things were finally starting to get better, they were finally putting Jason’s name to rest.

But in Gotham not even the dead get to rest easy.

That’s why Bruce and Dick took Clark to Jason’s grave, three years after the funeral he had never been invited to.

“Why are we here Bruce?”

“Whoever they have playing their star witness is a fake. We need to prove it. I need you to check the coffin and make sure nothing was tampered. I’m going to suggest they dig up the grave in order to prove he’s still-.”

Bruce looked at the elaborate headstone with a clenched jaw. The stone angel sadly gazing down at the small patch of dirt, an elegant carving at her feet saying what Bruce couldn’t.

‘Here lies Jason Todd. Beloved son, brother and friend.’

Dick added from his place leaning against Jason’s angel.

“We just want to make sure Uncle Clark.”

Clark nodded.

“Alright, I’ll check. What am I looking for?”

“My sensors on the coffin have never gone off or been moved so the coffin is very much untouched. Check the inside so that we can rule out any form of teleportation and magic.”

Clark looked back to the small patch of dirt and gazed beneath the earth. Through the mud, the rocks, the wood and into- more dirt. But where’s- oh no. This isn’t right.

“Bruce. The coffin is filled with dirt. There’s nothing else in there.”

“What.”

“There’s nothing in the coffin. “

Dick looked at him with wide eyes. “Did they somehow get him out and replace the body with dirt?”

Clark shook his head. “No, the coffin- It’s in shreds Bruce! There’s a small hole in the middle but all the breaks they’re facing upwards. All the wood splinters are outside the coffin it looks like-“

“Like someone broke out. “

Bruce’s voice was quiet, cold and detached. He looked pale, staring at the dirt beneath their feet.

He turned around and started to rush towards the gate, Dick calling after him.

“Bruce! Wait, what does this mean? You know something else don’t you!“

Bruce suddenly turned around to face his oldest partner. “The sensors noticed nothing Dick. Not a single motion from above towards the coffin, or an attempt to remove them. But if something broke upwards- if it moved towards the surface they wouldn’t have noticed. They were programmed to ignore upward motion so that it didn’t trigger on moles digging tunnels.”

“What? Why didn’t you make them respond to all movement?”

“There was no need, no movement could come from underneath other than animals.”

“Yeah except now something did.”

“I didn’t expect my son to wake from the dead Dick!”

That sent the graveyard into a dead silence.

Dick continued in a much quieter tone.

“You don’t…actually think he’s alive. Do you Bruce?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and rubbed the knuckles of his fist, thinking hard about something before swallowing.

“I talked to the witness over phone. He- He knew things only Jason could know. Left clues only I would recognize. Talia says it’s really him.”

“Oh right, because Talia al Ghul is trustworthy.”

“No, but she wasn’t lying. She seemed convinced the Jason she knew was the real one.”

“So what? You’re saying he just woke up in his coffin and got out somehow?” Dick's voice went kind, the same one he used for victims. “I’m sorry B but that can’t happen. It just doesn’t happen.”

“I know Dick. But I can’t ignore the things I have in front of me.”

Dick sighed and started to pace back and forth, nervous energy eating him up.

Clark walked over to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How could that be Bruce?”

“I don’t know Clark. Jason wasn’t a meta, there are no known magicians who were capable of something like this in Gotham.“

“The Lazarus pit!” Dick jumped in. “That’s why Talia was there isn’t it? They used the pit water. Maybe they spilled it over the grave or something.”

Bruce shook his head. “The pits only work if a person is fully submerged, and more importantly, they can’t bring back the dead.”

“Á black lantern ring?”

“It would give off a signature.”

“So you’re saying you think he’s alive but you have no idea how. “

Bruce didn’t answer. Clark tried to calm the younger man down. “Is it that crazy Dick? With our lives?”

Dick blinked at Clark and then at Bruce when his eyes widened.

“That’s why you brought Clark. You didn’t bring him to check if Jason’s there you brought him to see if he isn’t.”

Bruce nodded. “I can’t dig it up myself. The court would have accused me of tampering.”

Finally Dick reached the angel and leaned against it with a huff.

“God Bruce. I just. I just don’t believe it. There was nothing more Jason loved than you and Robin. If he really did come back why wouldn’t he just come home? How the hell would he end up with Talia of all people? Why the hell would he be taking the Joker to trial? It makes no sense.”

“I don’t know Dick.”

But he’d figure it out. If it was the last thing he’d do, he’d figure out what they did to his son.

Chapter Text

Tim got back home looking like he went through a hurricane. Alfred greeted the young boy with a raised eyebrow and barley caught a look at his disheveled hair and clothes before Tim pushed passed him.

“Alfred! Please tell you know where Bruce is.”

“Why hello Master Timothy. It is lovely to see you. I am quite well, thank you for asking.”

Tim sheepishly stopped running around the halls and sent Alfred an apologetic smile. “Hello Alfred. I missed you too. Could you please tell me where Bruce is and I promise we can catch up in a bit.”

“He and Master Richard are having breakfast. Where I expect to see you as well.”

“You got it Alfred!”

The teen ran through the main corridor and came to a sudden stop next to the breakfast table where he found his two mentors sitting in a cold silence.

“Bruce! I have something for you.”

Dick smiled at the sudden burst of energy that entered the room. “Easy Tim, if you yell any louder the neighbors will hear.”

“I’m your only neighbor.”

“I meant the bats.”

“Oh. Do you think they can hear me though the floors?”

Dick snickered and Bruce put a stop to Tim’s ever-changing train of thought.

“Good morning Tim. You have something for me?

Tim snapped back into focus. “Right! I found this at the gate.”

He thrust the large brown envelope at Bruce and saw his bloodshot eyes focus to read the sender.

“It’s the court. I think you’re being subpoenaed.”

With a quick scan Bruce nodded and confirmed Tim’s theory. Dick sighed and stood up, leading Tim by the shoulders into the seat next to his.

“How was your flight Tim?”

Tim threw Dick an incredulous stare.

“My flight? Someone’s out there pretending to be-“ he threw Bruce a look and far more quietly said “Jason Todd so they could get the Joker into court and you’re worrying about my flight?”

Dick shrugged. “You seem a bit uh, what’s the word- all over the place. Grab a bite and then we’ll discuss the case.”

“But what about-“

Dick held up a hand. “Tim, I beg of you. We been doing nothing but thinking about this for days. Please, eat something first and just enjoy the silence. Can we pretend we’re a normal family for a minute?”

Tim pouted at being shut down but he complied. He grabbed some of the pastries and eggs. Dick hummed pleased. Bruce looked the paper over. Tim chewed his eggs. Dick sipped his coffee. One minute passed. Tim pointed his fork at Bruce.

“Alright, so what’s the main theory, because I’m thinking-“

Dick groaned loudly and put his head in his hands. Tim ignored him. “ Clayface is still missing after the whole thing he did with Hush. He could be the impersonator. If we can expose him on stand that should throw the entire case out.”

Neither Bruce or Dick answered him. He could tell they were paying attention to Tim’s excited movements though. Tim added quickly.

“What? Did you guys rule that our already? You need to update the reports then, not my fault.”

Dick shot Bruce a look, Bruce cleared his throat in response. “No Tim, it’s not Clayface.”

“Then maybe-“

“Or a clone. Or a black lantern ring. Or a Thomas Eliot situation.”

“Oh. So you’ve already solved it?”

Bruce didn’t answer that one, clenching his jaw. Dick picked up in a slightly more strained tone.

“No Tim. He thinks it’s actually Jason.”

Tim blinked at his older brother. Then at his mentor. When no one added anything to the statement Tim got his fork back to his plate and took another bite. His brow furrowed as he chewed. 

“Can the legally dead even testify?”

__________________________________________

The trial was being held in the single largest courtroom Gotham had. Oak stands, chairs and tables, marble pillars and polished tiles. All on the mayor’s insistence of course, a trial of this size had to have a stage as glorious as the actors. Many things could be said for the man, but his marketing was never flimsy.

All of Gotham tuned in to watch the trial live. Students in a coffee shop gathered around a single laptop. Commuters stuck in traffic turned their radios up. A receptionist turned the lobby TV to the trial. The less lucky gathered outside a tech shop and watched though the glass, thankful that an open window let sound through as well.

Half of the United States joined them. Even Earth’s protectors gathered to see the ‘harrowing trial of Gotham’s worst and Gotham’s best’ (as the mayor put it) up in the atmosphere.

Millions of souls all at once saw as Vicki Vale explained some of the basics before the trial.

“Some special privileges are being given to this trial. As in all of Gotham’s trials, the witnesses must stay outside of the courtroom until they testify. This is to prevent them adapting their testimony to submitted evidence and other testimonies. The exception to this will be the Joker, who will stay in the room at all times. He will also only take the oath verbally, as to not risk undoing his bonds. “

The camera suddenly cut from Vicki to the front of the courthouse, catching as the Wayne family, all dressed in dark suits made their way up the steps, photographers at their heels and in their faces.

Bruce had no comment.

After them came the Arkham van reporters scattered to let pass. Joker was brought out to much less fanfare. And a lot more dread filled faces.

Joker had a lot of comments, but no one asked for them.

Following the van were three police cars. James Gordon walked out of the one at the front. A reporter caught up to him quickly.

“Commissioner! Do you believe the Joker is to blame for the terrorist attack?”

“I believe today’s trial will determine the truth. My personal opinion is meaningless in a trial.”

“What about Jason Todd? You knew the kid right? Do you believe Wayne covered it up to get rid of him? What about the theories that Wayne sold Jason to repay drug debts?”

 “As an officer of the law I understand the instinct to connect details into stories, however I urge the public not to let these crazy theories impact their perspective of the actual case.

I knew Jason Todd briefly, far too briefly, but I saw both him and Wayne next to each other.

I can only speak as a father when I say there was nothing in the world Wayne would have sold that kid for. Not a single damn thing.”

__________________________________________

Gordon found Bruce in the waiting area outside of the courtroom. Besides them were only a few other people, the guards and a man in a lab coat. Gordon expected a few more witnesses, and what’s more there was no sign of Jason Todd.

“Gordon.” Bruce shook his hand, an uneasy smile on his face. “It’s very good to see you.”

“Bruce. How are you holding up.”

Wayne sighed. “I wish I was better. I wish I was stronger so that I could see this through for Jason. It’s been three years I should be able to talk about this but-“ He shook his head, sadness painting his face. “it somehow still feels fresh. Like it’s been a day and not years.”

Gordon nodded, empathetic to Bruce’s words. “Good people are hard to forget. Kids are impossible to stop loving. I’m sorry they’re using your boy for this Bruce.”

Bruce tried to give him a small grateful smile. “I appreciate it. You wouldn’t happen to know where the rest of the witnesses are?”

“It’s a special case. They maybe separated the more sensitive witnesses in a separate room.”

Wayne hummed. Silence followed for Gordon. Bruce on the other hand had an ear full of sounds, his hidden com sending him a feed directly out of Tim’s mic.

__________________________________________

Tim was absolutely buzzing with energy.

The entire courtroom seemed to be the same. Everyone wanted to see the fake Jason Todd walk out on stage and give Gotham a performance they could talk about for months to come.

Well, almost everyone. Dick and Tim were sitting next to each other and his brother couldn’t stop bouncing his foot. Tim sort of understood, Dick had explained the situation somewhat. It was pretty farfetched. All things considered, if it was anyone else Bruce and Dick would be far more skeptical. But this was family. Family was a difficult topic.

It was the one topic that showed Bruce Wayne was far more human than people thought. When given hope, he was willing to believe in impossibilities just as much as anyone.

Tim’s job in the family was to be the balance. It’s not the fun job, but it’s needed. Just like when he brought Bruce out of his grief he’ll have to be the cold headed one here.

The way Tim saw it there were two options.

Either it was a fake and Bruce will be thrown right back into his grief (which meant Tim was going to have to quit the team for a while and stay home) or Jason really did raise from the dead like a zombie.

Which….should make Tim happy. And it did, for a full two minutes during Dick’s explanation. Bruce’s son might be alive, his endless grief might finally stop. Dick might get the actual second chance he wanted, with the brother he failed. Hell, Jason was Tim’s Robin! Tim could see Jason fly again, maybe even fly besides him.

But somehow, the feeling he kept coming back to was dread.

All the good things that come with the idea of Jason being alive come with questions. Was Jason being held hostage? Used by Talia and Lex to get back at Bruce? Or did he go rouge? Mind control? Blackmail? They’re going to have to rescue him, bring him home. Which meant Tim will probably be moving out soon enough. There was no reason to spend time training Tim when they can just continue with Jason.

Did Jason keep training while he was away? Would they let Tim stay part of the community anyway?

And what about his job at the company?

Would Jason hate the changes Tim made to the suit?

How much control did Talia have over Jason?

Is it possible to bring someone back from being legally dead?

Was Bruce going to keep the memorial?

The line of questions kept going all through the beginning of the trial where they went through the basic information. The prosecution was obviously energetic. The defense looked ready to leave. He was sticking to his opening statement from the pretrial.

“You honor, whether or not my client committed the crime is extremely irrelevant. He is criminally insane, as everyone knows, and we shall confirm it with an expert during trial. Under the laws of this state, that ends with him in an institution for the criminally insane. That’s all there is.”

Tim didn’t blame the guy. He was putting in zero effort and he wanted everyone to know it. Who wants to be remembered as the guy who defended the Joker?

The prosecution certainly didn’t mind.

“The prosecution may call their first witness.

“We call Dr.  Riley Cudak to the stand.”

Dr. Riley was a stout man in a doctors coat who walked in with an air of confidence about him. The Joker seemed amused to see him. “Hiya doc!”

The doctor ignored him. He was sworn in quickly and the prosecution took the floor.

“Dr. Riley, you’ve worked at Arkham for two years now.”

“Two years and five months.”

“Can you tell us what your job is?”

“My primary duties all revolved around estimating the Joker’s psychiatric state.”

“You were his therapist?”

“No. My job was evaluation, not rehabilitation nor recovery. I tested the patient every week for signs of improvement or detriment. I would report my findings and leave ot to my collegues to interpret.”

“Going back two years all your files stated the man is dealing with a mix of different psychosis, all of which combined into creating someone who isn’t capable of feeling empathy, cannot distinguish between right and wrong and  is unable to answer for his actions.”

“Correct.”

“But recently your reports have changed.”

“Also correct.”

“Your last ten reports tell a far different story. Can you explain why and how?”

“When I first came to Arkham I used my predecessor’s notes as guides and hints on how to deal with the Joker. At first it appeared their diagnosis were correct, albeit vague. However, around 10 weeks ago I threw out the old system of evaluation. I tried something new, made by myself.

I got a far different response.

I always did wonder why my colleagues could never definitely say which psychosis he suffered from. But it would make sense wouldn’t it, that maybe the reason why everyone thought different is because that’s exactly what The Joker wanted.”

“What do you mean.”

“The Joker’s intelligence was never in question, only his mental state. My new tests showed the Joker was stable. I found that odd. So, I performed a little trick.

I went into his cell looking unhappy. Told my colleagues to prescribe stronger medication in front of him, only for show of course.

Next week I tested him again. His results came back looking like something I would expect of a sane man who simply had a minor breakdown.”

“So you’re saying he got better?”

“I’m saying he believed he learned the pattern on which answers would make me believe he is insane.”

The crowed rustled, whispers picking up and scared looks being thrown to the Joker.

“You mean, he was trying to fake it?”

“There are a few tried tests for determining the mental state of patients. After repeating this process for the next few weeks I believe the patient was tested so frequently on all of these methods that he learned how to get his intended results no matter what method.

I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the doctors even explained it to him, I believe Quinzell was his therapist for a time. She could have easily helped him further the confusion.”

“Can you please read your final report to us Doctor Riley.”

“Of course.” The man cleared his throat. “It is my professional opinion that the patient is neither unstable nor unable to distinguish between right and wrong. After conducting numerous experiments over the last ten weeks I have changed my verdict and I believe The Joker is sane enough to manipulate the people around him.”

“Would you say he is stable enough to stand trial for his actions?”

“Yes, I would. He is far more sane than people think.”

The defense attorney smacked his head against his table.

“Your honor, I have no further questions.”

“The defense may begin their cross examination.”

The defense didn’t raise their head from the table but they did raise their finger.

“Just one question” came the muffled voice. “Are you saying that calling in experts to diagnose him would be useless because he knows how to fake the results?”

“Correct. I am the one you would usually call in, seeing as I am put on file as the leading expert in the area sir. “

“Great. No more questions your honor.”

__________________________________________

Bruce kept walking up and down the hall in fake anxiousness that hid annoyance.

That testimony was enough to throw out the insanity plea. Even if it was on shaky grounds, no one is going to fight against actually putting the Joker to trial.

Ten weeks is a long time as well. Was the Doctor actually telling the truth? But how come Bruce didn’t hear anything about a difference in the Joker’s reports? Or has Talia been preparing this for such a long time, paying off the leading expert for ten weeks, and having him hide the reports? How would she even get to the reports, under Bruce’s tight lock and key.

A tight lock and key only people closest to Bruce had the codes to.

__________________________________________

“Your honor, the prosecution calls Commissioner James Gordon to the stand.”

Gordon was brought in with his usual stoicism, already used to testifying in court.

“Commissioner Gordon I only have a few questions. Can you tell me about Jason Todd? A basic rundown of his life as you knew it.”

Gordon raised one bushy eyebrow but he did as asked, smoker’s rasp loud in the room. “I met the boy when he was short enough to hide behind car tires. They brought him into my station for pickpocketing. I didn’t really know how the kid did it, seeing as he was barley tall enough to reach jacket pockets. Didn’t stop him though, he became a regular for a bit. Stopped coming by after he got good enough to not get caught.”

 “So, a child delinquent?”

“In the most basic sense yes. It isn’t exactly a rare site in the upper parts of town. Parents teach their kids to steal so young they know how to crack safes before they know their ABC’s.”

“His parents were criminals then?”

“His father yes. Regular thug for mobs and such. His mother was a drug addict who overdosed when he was nine. The father was killed in Blackgate when he was eleven.”

“So who was Jason stealing for then? Did he join a mob?”

“What? No, nothing like that. The kid was a bit of an odd duck, hated the mobs. Told me once he’d rather die before join up. He was really just stealing for basic needs.”

“Such as?”

“Food, clothes. His parents didn’t provide anything, he did it for himself. And his mother, later on. He was put in the system after she died but he ran away. Batman exposed that the foster homes were used as trafficking fronts and criminal hubs later, so I can’t blame the kid for running. It was probably for his life.”

“How long was he fighting for his life on the streets?”

“I assume since he found his mother overdoses up until he was adopted. That would be around three years.”

“Since he was nine.”

“Yes.”

Tim watched as the crowed grew saddened by Jason’s early life, one woman on the jury holding a hand to her mouth. Dick seemed to be watching something far away, even if he was staring directly at James. He whispered to Tim.

“He had cuts on the pads of his fingers on his right hand. I didn’t really think about it. Turned out street kids do it to make their fingers more sensitive, so they can apply just the right amount of pressure when they’re stealing something. Said his dad showed that trick to him when he was eight.”

Tim wanted to curl up hearing that.

“What happened next Commissioner?”

“I didn’t see the kid for a while. Next time I saw him, he was sitting in Bruce Wayne’s living room looking ready to fight me if I said he couldn’t stay. Wayne adopted him after that, and I saw the kid at a few galas. He kept out of trouble.”

“Would you say he was happy with Wayne?”

“I’d say I had never seen the kid happier.”

“What about his death?”

Gordon’s face turned dark, any levity gone from his voice. “I didn’t know it happened until my daughter told me. She was his tutor, she and the kid were close. The report was brutal, so I understood why the coffin was kept closed.”

“The report. Can you please give us a rundown of the report.”

Gordon sighed. “Wayne and the boy left the country to go to Ethiopia. A group of terrorists kidnapped Jason and his birth mother and asked for a ransom. Wayne couldn’t pay it on time, so they tortured and killed the boy and his mother by blowing up the building.”

“Did you receive an autopsy report.”

“Yes, it was done in Ethiopia.”

“What were the injuries sustained?”

“I don’t remember them all off of the top of my head.”

“That’s fine. I have the report here. I’ll read them out loud and you can confirm.”

Tim felt Dick tense in the seat beside him.

“Heavy blunt trauma to the front lobe, cracked skull, five broken bones in the right leg and one in the left, collapsed lung, broken ribs on both sides, broken collarbone, crushed hands, broken fingers, various blunt trauma across the body, cuts of varying depth, broken jaw, and smoke inhalation. Correct?”

Gordon nodded.

“Blunt force trauma. Is the weapon known?”

“No. It was never found.”

“I see. Would you say it’s possible from let’s say, a crowbar?”

“Well. I suppose yes.”

From his side on the defendant’s bench the Joker’s voice called out.

“Hey, this story is starting to sound familiar!”

The prosecutor continued with a barely visible smirk. He walked over to his desk and pulled up a black duffle bag. He unzipped it and Tim could see a large evidence bag being pulled out. The thing inside had Tim’s mouth going dry.

“I’d like to submit this to evidence your Honor. “

The twisted metal could barely be recognized. It was charred, pieces broken off but everyone could tell that the red that covered the thing wasn’t rust. It was dried blood.

“This crowbar was found at the scene thanks to our future witness. I recommended we test the blood but I guarantee the blood will match that of Jason Todd.”

Dick’s hand grabbed Tim’s arms in a vice grip before letting go. Tim turned and saw Dick looked incredibly pale, slightly sickly. Dick shot out of his seat and made his way to the doors, playing the part of distraught brother for the cameras perfectly.

He wasn’t acting.

__________________________________________

Dick sped pass Bruce and ran to one of the windows, opening it to get some fresh air. He breathed it in like he was drowning. Bruce walked up to his son and rubbed at his back, worried at the strong reaction. Dick finally spoke after a minute.

“God. I never read the autopsy. I didn’t want to imagine it.”

__________________________________________

Soon enough Gordon was released and the prosecution called their next witness.

Each and every single camera focused in on Bruce as he made his way to the stand where they made him swear in. Dick had walked in before him, taking his place next to Tim

“Mister Wayne. First of all, I’d like to apologize for the hard questions I shall be asking. I mean no insult. You were the first to arrive at the site of the bombing yes?”

“Yes.”

“In the report it says you found Jason’s body along with Sheila Haywood’s in the wreckage of a warehouse minutes after it went off. It also says you saw no one else on your way to the scene and assumed the bombing was done by terrorists.”

“Correct.”

“The bombing occurred at 5:07 in the afternoon, as recorded by the blast that was caught on cameras.”

“Yes.”

“So Mister Wayne, can you explain to us why it took almost a full two hours for you to deliver Jason’s body to the police at 7:05?”

Tim bit his lip. Bruce had to get Jason out of the Robin suit. Find some clothes and wreck them so it looked like he wore them in the bombing. Wash himself of the blood.

Bruce looked away from the prosecutor with a pained expression. “I-I kept trying to revive him. I’m no doctor but I learned the basics in memory of my father and- well, I just. Seeing my son like that threw all my rationality out of the window. I kept thinking he would wake up if I just waited long enough.” He finished in a whisper.

 __________________________________________

Miles away in the air, the core members of the JL, the ones who knew who Batman was, sat around a conference table and watched the proceedings. Superman clenched his fist at the pain the memories brought, knowing full well Bruce wasn’t lying. All his rationality did disappear, to the point of madness. His friend had even punched him out of nothing but rage, rage at the Joker, rage at himself, rage at the world for taking his son away. And hearing Bruce yell at Clark to let the Joker die, that he deserves it, it was one of the worst days in Clark’s memory.

Wonder Woman sat back in her chair with a worried expression. She wished she knew Bruce as well as she did Batman. Watching her friend on screen she found it far more difficult than usual to read which of his words were lies and which were truth.

__________________________________________

The prosecutor continued.

“Yes, the report does say there were signs of CPR being done. Along with all the other injuries.”

“Yes. The monsters tortured him while they waited for the money.”

“Ah, so they had him for a while yes?”

Bruce’s angry glare went to the prosecutor. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that in order to torture him they had to have had him for multiple hours. And yet, you didn’t report Jason’s disappearance. You gave him over to the police after death and said the terrorists kidnapped him and contacted you for a ransom. Is that true?”

“They asked me for 5 million in cash. I told them I would pay the money but that there was no way I could find that amount of cash in time. They wouldn’t listen.” Bruce swallowed roughly. “They said if I contacted the police they wouldn’t wait at all.”

Tim had to admit, the records were pretty well doctored for that one. Bruce’s account did show him trying to get as much money in cash as possible from multiple sources.

“So if I understand correctly this is the timeline.

You and young Jason arrive in Ethiopia. Jason disappears and you receive a ransom note asking for 5 million in cash. You don’t contact the police out of fear they might hurt the child. You fail in your efforts to acquire the money. The terrorists torture the boy and kill both him and his mother before disappearing. You arrive on the scene mere minutes after the explosion. In your grief you take Jason’s body away from the scene in hopes of getting him aid. You report Jason’s death to the police two hours later. Is all this correct?”

Bruce nodded but Tim could tell he wasn’t happy about this. The story hinged on how much you believed in Bruce’s grief. If it weren’t for the records it didn’t hold up at all.

“Why were you in Ethiopia?”

“We were part of a relief aid camp to help victims of war zones.”

“So the terrorists were aware of your visit through the program?”

“I assume.”

“Was the Joker there?”

Bruce paused and looked over the crowd, his eyes lingering on Tim and Dick.

“Not that I was aware, no.”

“That would be all for now your honor.”

“The defense has no questions.”

“Alright. Prosecution?”

“Your honor, so far we have heard the version of the story that everyone knows. The one that Bruce Wayne gave to the public all those years ago. However your honor, I have a different theory. One based on the facts we heard, simply rearranged a bit different.

Imagine your honor, a young Jason Todd who was told he had a living birth mother. In his joy the boy uses his skills of theft to steal a credit card and travels to meet her. He doesn’t tell Wayne out of fear. What they were unaware of however, was that Sheila Haywood still had some very strong connections to Gotham. She ran from Gotham on accusations of drug ring involvement. That business simply continued in Ethiopia.

Her boss? Killed by The Joker who overtook the business.

And Joker came to collect debts.”

“Do you have any proof to support your words prosecutor?”

“I have something better. The prosecution calls the Joker to the stand.”

Chapter Text

The witness stand had three steps one had to walk on to climb it. It was just one chair facing the crowd, in an elevated position. No spotlight, and yet it had everyone’s attention. No microphone, but the words echoed through the whole room.

Joker knew a stage when he saw one.

His chair was wheeled over to the guard, wheels squeaking as they went.

“Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“Help me? He doesn’t even know me~”

“Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under pains and penalties of perjury?

“I’ll have you know my mother raised a gentleman. I don’t swear no matter what you threaten me with.”

The judge intervened. “Swear in defendant, or face the contempt of court.”

“Oh, swear in~ Well, that’s different! I’m the most honest guy you’ll ever meet. Sure, I swear!”

With not so gentle hands the Arkham guards then picked Joker up and placed him into the witness chair, straight jacket painfully tight.

The prosecution came forwards, face far more serious than the previous testimonies.

“Mister Joker you said something a few minutes ago, something about all of this sounding familiar. Can you tell me if you were in Ethiopia on the 27^th of April?”

“I’d have to check my calendar.”

 “You should remember being an ambassador at the time.”

“Oh! That was a fun one. I was in-between careers at the moment and found myself with a part time job. The pay was good but my boss was a real slave driver.”

“Why were you in Ethiopia?”

“I was on a bird watching trip.”

“Bird watching?”

“Why yes.”, Joker giggled, smile never faltering, “a man has to have hobbies you know. Keeps him from going a bit crazy. Mine is bats and birds.”

“Which birds were you watching?”

“Bird. Just the one. Special little fledgling that decided to migrate alllll the way from Gotham to Ethiopia! Hell of a flight pattern don’ you think? And all alone too! No flock to be seen for miles.” Joker pouted. “Poor little bird, left behind and abandoned. I had to keep it company you see. It was my favorite little bird.”

Two different feelings were spreading throughout the courtroom. The first was a general confusion, the questions not seeming important. A vague feeling of impatience accompanied by the usual distaste the Joker causes in people.

The other feeling, felt by only three people in that room, was a mix of varying degrees of loathing. An agony inducing loathing, a pitch black loathing and a fear inducing loathing.

“What was the name of the bird?”

“Robin. Little Robin redbreast, of the Gotham vigilante family tree!”

“Robin, of Batman and Robin?”

“Well, that’s a bit of a toughie! Hmm. Depends on who you ask. If you ask Batsy, I’m sure he’ll say that. I doubt the kid would have said it though.” The smile somehow spread into something crueler looking. “He left the brat to die in his own blood after all.”

A few shocked gasps could be heard, pens scribbling against paper furiously.

“But if you ask me, he was more of a shared project. He had Batsy’s penchant for helping the poor defenseless sinners of Gotham but he had my sense of humor!”

“Are you saying you killed Robin in Ethiopia?”

“Killed ? The kid had run out of material, he was starting to sound like a broken record. ‘Wah, wah, daddy doesn’t love me, rebel without a cause, gotta save the orphans from dying in the fire!’ “, Joker frowned,  “Reusing material is bad practice you know! I let the older birdy get away with it but my favorite needed to be better.”

“What did you do?”

Joker looked at the crowbar sitting on the table, his grin coming back in full force.

“I taught him manners.

Or well, I tried. I’m afraid the little birdy just wouldn’t listen. He never would have made it big with his attitude. I pulled him off stage, saved him the embarrassment of failure. Permanently.”

“Where did you ‘teach him manners’?”

“Lovely little place a friend of mine owned. No rent required!”

“I see. Was this your friend?”

The prosecutor pulled up a picture of a blond woman in a lab coat, a hard look in her eyes and mouth set in a straight line. Joker squinted at it, inclined his head right, then left, before nodding rigorously.

“Yeah that’s her! Why, I haven’t seen her mug in ages. Though, to be fair she was getting on in years when I last saw her.”

“Was the place she gave you a warehouse?”

“Why, it’s like you were there~”

“Was she inside the warehouse with you and Robin?”

“Mhmm, I do love an audience.”

“What happened to her?”

“I left her with the birdy.”

The prosecutor turned his back to the Joker pointed to the picture of the blond woman, voice as hard as steel.

“Dear jury the woman you see in this image is Sheila Haywood, the victim of this case. The warehouse the Joker is talking about was owned by her and used as medical storage facility. What we just heard is a full admission of guilt for her death.”

He turned back to the Joker. “Why did you place a bomb in the warehouse?”

The Joker sighed dreamily. “Sentimentality. Nothing warms the heart more than a father and son screaming hoarse for each other! Well, the kid was screaming anyway. All that tough guy posturing and in the end he still begs for daddy just like every other little brat. Adorable really.”

“You’re saying Batman was there as well?”

“Of course he was, are you deaf. This was a family outing~”

“One more question.”

“Aw, we’re done already?”

“Do you know Robin’s name?”

The entire courtroom went still. Even the judge seemed to be sitting on the edge of his seat.

The Joker tapped his chin and hummed.

“Name…name…Batsy won’t like me sharing that little secret.” His lips stretched out to show all his teeth. “But I think the kid deserves some credit! I couldn’t have pulled it off without him. And I can’t lie after all, heaven forbid I commit perjury. That would go on my permanent record.”

Joker nodded to himself. “The brat’s name was Jason. That’s what the blond called him anyway.”

A second of silence followed. And then an avalanche of sound, the entire courtroom getting to its feet, reporters crowding the Waynes with cameras, not caring about the judge’s calls for order. Voices came from all directions.

“Holy shit, did he just say Jason Todd was Robin?”

“Wasn’t Robin in the Diamond last night?”

 “Stop pushing me!”

“Order in the courtroom!”

“Did Wayne sell the kid to Batman?”

“There’s no way any of that was true.”

“Gorge, call the editor, tell him to hold the story!”

“Mister Wayne, give us a comment!”

“Mister Wayne did you lie on the stand?”

“Mister Wayne!”

“Mister Wayne over here!”

The calls for Bruce refused to settle, disrupting the entire hearing to the point of an intermission being called, with the Waynes being escorted outside.

__________________________________________

“I have something better. The prosecution calls the Joker to the stand.”

Bruce had raised from the witness stand and made his way over to his sons, sitting down with ash on his tongue.

Lying had never been an issue for Bruce. Lies kept knowledge where it belonged. But this felt different. It felt like nothing short of telling the whole story, telling how he as Batman failed his Robin, how that monster took his son, how Bruce covered it all up in order to protect his family, it felt like…he wasn’t doing Jason justice.

But Dick and Tim needed him to stick to the story. They deserved futures, even if Bruce didn’t.

It didn’t make the ash go away.

The sound of the Joker’s voice was enough to turn his vision as white as the ash. That clown was enjoying every second of the attention, practically giddy. He should have been in his cell, he should be completely cut off from any satisfaction.

Bruce tried to keep his composure.

“Why were you in Ethiopia?”

“I was on a bird watching trip.”

Bruce heard Tim inhale quickly, Dick’s knuckles white on the bench.

“Poor little bird, left behind and abandoned. I had to keep it company you see. It was my favorite little bird.”

Dick hissed in a quiet whisper “Should we stop him?”

“No. Anything stopping him will seem suspicious. Let him talk.”

Tim added from his side, keeping his eyes on the laughing maniac. “He’s right. We can discredit whatever he says easy, but we can’t afford to look desperate.”

“He left the brat to die in his own blood after all.”

Even if Bruce wanted to smash his skull in.

“He had Batsy’s penchant for helping the poor defenseless sinners of Gotham but he had my sense of humor!”

“Does that goddamn clown really think Jason was anything like him?”

A memory flashed at Bruce, a picture of Jason standing against the batmobile, scowling at Bruce after a tough night.

‘What did you want Bruce?! I didn’t think I had to prep a pillow for the drug dealer before I punched him into the ground!’

‘You broke his collarbone Robin! He went into shock. We needed to question him.’

 He answered Dick’s question simply.

“He thinks Jason enjoyed causing suffering.”

‘…Alright, I’m sorry. I messed up. But I’m not sorry the bastard got what he deserved.”

“But Jason never enjoyed the pain. It was the justice of it Jason reveled in. Joker can’t understand that.”

Dick didn’t follow up. His thoughts too caught up in listening as Joker admitted he killed a fifteen year old for nothing. For…taking Bruce’s attention? For not keeping Joker entertained?

And not doing the same to Dick because Jason was his favorite.

Bullshit. It wasn’t Jason that ran out of material. Jason had the prime of his life to look forward to. He had just started truly living after surviving for his entire life.

There had been so many plans.

Not even just Jason’s plans. Dick knows Bruce had already talked to five different deans in Jason’s name, restructured most of his will to make sure Jason never wanted for anything, special ordered a car for his 16^th birthday.

Dick left the planet convinced he’d come back and take Jason on a vacation. Barbara’s idea, Dick’s execution. He’d drive them around and take Jay back to the team for a little while. Jay had met them for such a short time, and Dick finally felt comfortable enough to fully mentor the kid.

Dick didn’t put up a memorial in the tower. They never got to make him an official member. (And if Dick were more honest he’d admit having a home where Jason’s face didn’t wait to judge him kept him sane.)

Dick is pretty sure not a single new Titan is even aware Tim isn’t the second Robin.

And the ones that are probably barley remember. Donna does. Roy sometimes throws Jason’s death at Dick when they’re fighting.

When was the last time he even talked about Jason with someone?

“He never would have made it big with his attitude. I pulled him off stage, saved him the embarrassment of failure. Permanently.”

Failure. Like that was all Jason was ever going to be.

‘The kid can’t be Robin Dick, he’s going to get someone killed! He’s a criminal, violent,  he’s nothing like you. Come back home already.’

‘I’m not the problem here Barb. He didn’t even ask me before giving my family colors away like they were nothing. I’m not getting involved and neither should you. This is going to be Bruce’s mess and I don’t want any part in it. His failure, his fault.“

Somewhere along the way Dick echoed the exact words The Joker killed Jason for. And somehow Dick had fully believed he was right. Like the twelve year old child was the issue and not everything around him.

Hindsight never fails to remind Dick of how awful people can be. Even when they don’t want to be.

He made sure to squeeze Tim’s wrist to remind himself not to get lost in the hindsight.

Tim shivered at the sudden contact but he didn’t pull away. He was too busy slightly panicking.

The prosecutor was setting up for something.

Focusing on the Robin angle is strange. The jury doesn’t know Jason was Robin. If the defense attorney was doing his job he’d probably be raising objections for pointless questions. They should be focusing on the ambassador angle, calling up the records to prove he was there. And then connect him to Sheila.

Something didn’t feel right.

“Where did you ‘teach him manners’?”

“Lovely little place a friend of mine owned. No rent required!”

Why not just ask if he killed her? Why the run around?

“I see. Was this your friend?”

None of this is about Sheila is it? Even for the prosecutor. He’s aiming for a different confession.

 “What happened to her?”

“I left her with the birdy.”

What will this accomplish? Exposing Robin was Jason Todd does nothing. It won’t help the case at all. He’s already gotten a confession!

“Why did you place a bomb in the warehouse?”

Exposing Bruce is Batman? Talia can do that at any moment of any day with a press conference. Hell, she can just post it online.

“Sentimentality. Nothing warms the heart more than a father and son screaming hoarse for each other! Well, the kid was screaming anyway. All that tough guy posturing and in the end he still begs for daddy just like every other little brat. Adorable really.”

Or is this. Maybe. Was the point to hurt Bruce as much as possible?

“Do you know Robin’s name?”      

Dick bit his tongue to keep himself from shouting.

“Name…name…Batsy won’t like me sharing that little secret.”

Tim pulled out his phone and sent out an alert to his system to implement contingency 16.

“The brat’s name was Jason. That’s what the blond called him anyway.”

Heart in his throat it took every ounce of control Bruce had not to jump over the railing and strangle the clown there and then. Jason’s voice a hazy memory.

‘I don’t trust strangers. Especially if they dress like a bat.’

‘That’s good. But I need something to call you.’

The little boy had to completely tilt his head up to stare Bruce but he still somehow managed a convincing glare.

‘Fine. But don’t you go spreading it around. My name’s Jason.’

‘Your name is valuable information?’

‘Don’t want people thinkin’ I’m a snitch for Batman.” Slightly more defensively he added, ‘It’s my name. I get to give it to who I want and I only give it to friends.’

‘And me.’

The kid grinned, Bruce noticed he had a gap in his lower teeth.

‘Yeah, and now you.’

The first people that moved were the reporters, all turning their heads at Bruce in almost unison. They called for his opinion and kept screaming questions he could barely make out. The crowd turned the courtroom into a bullpen.

Above them all sat a laughing Joker, enjoying the chaos one little sentence had caused.

Bruce grabbed his children and ran out.

__________________________________________

“As the court goes into intermission our camera crew has taken to the streets, capturing the reactions of civilians live.

‘Dude. Dude. Is that how Wayne makes his money? A rent-a-sidekick business? Dudeeee, that’s mental.’

‘So Wayne’s kid was Robin? Did Wayne know? Did Richey know? Ohmigosh were they all in on it?’

‘Are you all that naive? Next thing you’ll tell me is that Wayne is Batman in his spare time. The clown is crazy, he just said it for the attention!’

‘I’ve been telling people the Waynes are vampires for years! Finally, people will see the truth!’

‘Yeah right. No offense but there is no way Jason Todd was Robin. I went to class with him, No way a two bit thug like him was Robin.’

‘Mister prosecutor, babe, you look great in that suit. Seriously, call me.’

‘Is that why Batman always saves the Waynes? They’re like a cult or something?’

‘Why is everyone glossing over the fact the Joker literally just admitted to killing a fifteen year old and his mom?’

‘I hope someone is making sure the Waynes don’t leave town.’

‘Can someone please get the electric chair already?’

__________________________________________

“My, my. It seems some of your fellow Gothamites are as blood thirsty as you are.”

“Of course they are Tals. They’re the ones the clown terrorizes day in and day out. They know exactly what he deserves. I’m just sad they can’t rip him apart by their own hands.”

“Do not be. This is far more gratifying in the long run. Someone has finally stepped up them the justice they’ve been denied.”

“It’s too little too late. But it’s something. A change. And it isn’t over yet.”

“True. So far things have progressed smoothly.”

“Somehow. The good doctor did the hardest part.”

“I must admit I was positively surprised. What did you say to him to cause such a large change?”

Jason smirked at his…mentor? Sponsor? Almost-actually-stepmother? Talia is a bit hard to pin down. A pack of cigars went to his pocket as Jason put his jacket on.

What had he said? Nothing much. Four months ago when he had paid the doctor a visit, the man was already looking for flaws in his research. The man surprisingly wasn’t a hack. When Jason sent him an invitation to discuss his research over tea he had agreed.

Beyond that, it was just a discussion.

‘You said in your files that even you can’t pin down a prognosis right?’

‘Those files are private. How did you-‘

‘Let’s just say I have friends in dark places and leave it be. I came to ask if you ever considered that maybe the tests were rigged.’

‘Rigged? You can’t rig hundreds of psychiatric tests every year, that’s absurd.’

‘The Joker lives on things people consider absurd. Think about it doc. He’s been tested so many times they ought to name a ward of Arkham after him. He knows exactly what to expect, he knows exactly what type of responses you’re looking for.’

‘You meant to insinuate he has been faking this entire time?’

Jason shrugged, dropping a twenty on their table as he stood to leave.

“I’m saying he’s not nearly as insane as he wants everyone to think. Find a new test doc. You’ll see.’

“I just gave him a nudge in the right direction.”

A knock sounded on Jason’s door.

“That’s our sign. Are you ready lamb?”

Jason stretched his legs out to make sure they responded without pain.

Somehow, things had all gone according to plan.

Somehow, they hadn’t fucked up just yet.

Jason was the final witness, and the final nail in Joker’s coffin. 

“For this? I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

 __________________________________________

Contingency 16 was something Tim set up the very night Jason became involved in the case. It was basically just a large network of bots that would flood internet forums with heavy skepticism, reminding people of Robin sightings and giving different crazy theories to make people laugh at the idea Jason was Robin. They also heavily reminded people Jason wasn’t they type of person people typically associated with Robin.

They needed to confuse and conquer.

If they keep the flow of information in check they should be able to successfully refute the allegations.

According to the news report, it seemed to be working.

As long as nothing more substantial came forward.

Something like-

“The prosecution calls Jason Todd to the stand.”

-Jason himself saying he was Robin.

Tim desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to use contingency 21. Brainwashing an entire room of people was definitely in the grey moral area.

Someone knocked on the courtroom doors three times before they finally opened.

__________________________________________

‘Hey Al’, you know anythin’ about watchmaking?’

‘I dabbled a bit in my youth. Why do you ask?’

‘I found this broken watch in Bruce’s office. Figured he’d like to get it fixed yeah? As a gift.’

Alfred examined the watch and recognized the old thing with a pang of sadness.

‘Ah, I see. That was Master Thomas’ watch. It hasn’t worked for over twenty years now.’

‘Oh shi-snap. Should I put it back?’

‘No need dear boy. Come along, let’s see if we can find my old watch kit.’

‘Oh thank frick. I have no idea what else to get him. It’s ridiculous, what do you get the guy who can buy a bazillion things whenever he wants?’

The old butler chuckled. ‘Yes, I suppose it is a bit of a hard nut to crack. This will be a fine present, should we fix it. Knock on wood of course.’

‘Knock on wood?’

‘An old expression. To bring us luck in our tasks. A bit like wishing for good to come.’

__________________________________________

Jason stood in front of the heavy oak doors. He inhaled. And just as the guards reached to open them his hand darted out and knocked three times.

Light poured out from the room and he stepped into it.

__________________________________________

It’s a weird thing, what the mind notices. An event such as this, that had everyone’s blood running, eyes open wide, it made imaginations run wild.

But somehow, no one quite imagined the picture they were all seeing in that moment.

A courtroom of supreme taste and elegance, polished to the point that the floors perfectly reflected all of the impeccably formally dressed people. A sea of dark suits and dresses that was parted in the middle as they all turned to stare at the teen standing at the door. His leather jacket obviously loved and worn, black shirt simple and everyday, dark jeans  on the slightly baggy side.

A teen who by all known laws of nature shouldn’t be smirking at his captive audience like this was another Tuesday.  

The teen took a step towards the witness stand, followed by a slower step. A bad limp he seemed used to, but one the audience wasn’t expecting. A pin could be heard as they boy passed them all, not even looking at his adoptive father, not even glancing at the grinning clown.

He finally arrived at the witness stand and became straight faced as the guard swore him in,

“Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

The voice Bruce had heard from the phone was clear now, a deep teen tone.

The prosecution didn’t walk up immediately, letting the crowd absorb the very alive face of Jason Todd. Finally, after a minute he walked up.

“Please state your name and occupation sir.”

“Jason Peter Todd. No occupation. Unless whistleblower counts.”

“Just to confirm, you are the Jason Todd that Bruce Wayne adopted six years ago?”

“Yup.”

“Are you aware you’re supposed to be dead.”

Jason snorted. “Quite.”

“Can you tell us what happened that day in Ethiopia?”

Jason leaned his head onto his hand and started off sounding casual. “Sure sir. The truth is me and Bruce didn’t go to Ethiopia as part of a relief program. Don’ know where he cooked that one up from, I never even signed up for one. Anyway, the reason I went there was to find my mom. I took Bruce’s credit card and split.”

“Your mother sir?”

“Birth mom. Doctor Shelia Haywood. I wanted to meet her but I figured Bruce wouldn’t approve.”

“So you went to Ethiopia to meet your mother. Did you succeed?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She was actually workin’ in a relief camp. Very noble of her and all. She seemed pretty happy to meet me.” He shrugged. “I just didn’t know the real reason she was happy.”

 “Which was?”

“She found a way to save her pathetic life. By selling me out.”

Bruce took in a sharp breath.

The casual look wasn’t holding up as well as Jason wanted it to. Bitterness was starting to seep through.

“Ya see Mister prosecutor, she wasn’t really all that upstanding. She ran from Gotham cause she messed up and got some of her patients killed, and then she ended up in Ethiopia using a relief camp to steal and sell drugs. “

The audience whispered amongst themselves, the judge calling for order.

“She just made a bit of a mistake see?” Jason slowly turned his head to look at the Joker, not even trying to hide the hatred in his eyes. “She made a deal with the Joker. And she couldn’ pay it back. But she knew there was one thing the Joker would accept as payment.”

“And that was?”

“Anything that would get Batman to pay attention.”

Collectively the Waynes and the JL all held their breaths. Was he really going to do it? Expose his family to the world?

Jason leaned back in his seat and let out a long breath.

“And what would do the job better than Robin himself? It’s a duo after all.”

The prosecutor quickly fired the follow up. “What did you have to do with Robin?”

Jason smiled again, and looked Bruce straight in the eye, knowing full well what weight his next words held.

“I have nothing to do with him at all.”

Chapter Text

“He’s lost too much blood, the fracture in his skull is too far gone, there’s nothing we can do. The best we can hope is to make the boy’s last days comfortable.”

“Is there anyone we can call?”

“He kept mentioning a Bruce…he wouldn’t stop struggling till I promised he was coming.”

“His father?”

“Probably. He called for “dad” as well. Have the police called back?”

“They have. The finger prints don’t match anyone in the database and neither does the blood. They’ve checked missing persons too but nothing came up.”

“I wish they’d do more.”

“By this point, short of calling every single Bruce in Gotham, I don’t see what they could do. And even then-“

“The kid won’t be awake to see him even if he comes.”

__________________________________________

“How’s the patient?”

“I’m…not sure. He hasn’t woken up but his vitals are surprisingly stable.”

“The kid might be the most stubborn patient I’ve met. He should have been dead a week ago.”

“Do you think-“

“It won’t last.”

__________________________________________

“It’s a really pretty day out sweetheart.”

__________________________________________

“You a Knights fan kid? You should have seen the last game! I mean, sure we lost, but man, we actually got pretty close!”

__________________________________________

 “You know, I never noticed you have freckles! That’s so cute, we can be freckle buddies! “

__________________________________________

“I can’t tell if he’s extremely lucky or extremely unlucky.”

“Sir?”

“Three months in and he’s still alive. Bad luck got him here but good luck is somehow keeping him going.”

“I wonder if he’s waiting.”

“Waiting?”

“For his dad. You promised he was coming.”

“Oh. An undying wish huh?”

__________________________________________

“Knights got a new trainer. A guy from Central, so he might actually be useful. Here’s to hoping, huh kid?”

__________________________________________

“I have a cousin your age. He’s a bit of a nerd but a real nice guy. Way too nice for Gotham. I swear aunty got the kid in Metropolis and just refuses to admit it.”

__________________________________________

“So, the world almost ended last week. Justice League took care of it, but boy, what a lightshow. It was actually sorta pretty.”

__________________________________________

“We can’t keep him here much longer.”

“Sir?”

“I just got a call from upper management. The main floors are packed, they can’t fit anymore people. Batman keeps sending twenty people to the ICU every night, it’s mayhem.”

“So they’re taking over this floor too?”

“Yes. We’ve been told to move the low chance patients to anyplace we can. They’re moving him to a special needs children home somewhere next to Star City.”

“But. They’re not equipped to-“

“I know. But by this point he’s hanging on by pure will. He can do that anywhere.”

“And if his father comes looking for him? He’ll never find him that far away.”

“If someone comes looking for him nurse, I’ll pay the trip there myself three times over.”

__________________________________________

“Ugh, you won’t believe what Cindy did last week Freckles. I mean, everyone told her the guy was a sleaze bag but does she listen? Noooo, of course not.”

__________________________________________

“Heard they’re shipping you out kid. Sorry to hear it. I’m just a janitor but even I can tell you’re not a quitter. Gothamites never are huh? Maybe that’s why we still cheer for the Knights after a twenty year losing streak. So don’t let them keep ya down, huh kid?“

__________________________________________

 “You’ve been here six months, so chances are fifty fifty that you had a birthday somewhere along the way, huh sweetheart? I’m probably completely off mark but-Happy birthday from all us, yeah? Maybe you’ll dream up a wish. That’d be nice.”

__________________________________________

“Nurse Cindy told me you’re getting transferred. She’s way too much of a softie. Come visit when you get better ok? She’d like that I think.”

__________________________________________

“Make sure to leave the charts out for the transport team nurse.”

“Yes doctor. When are they arriving? “

“In the morning.”

__________________________________________

“You know, I bet your dad is right outside, looking for you. I bet he’s worried sick, and scared, and I bet he can’t wait till he sees you again. And I bet if you wake up, you’d find him in a heartbeat. So wake up, yeah sweetheart? You’re the only one who can find him now.”   

__________________________________________

“Nurse!”

“Sir?”

“Did you move the John Doe boy in 308?”

“No sir.”

“Call the police. He’s not in the room and the window is open. Someone must have taken him.”

“Taken…from the third floor? No one without a key card is allowed on floor, there’s no way-“

“Well either someone took him or the comatose boy just up and disappeared nurse. “

“Yes sir. I’ll call right away sir.”

__________________________________________

They didn’t find him.

__________________________________________

It’s night. It’s the lower right of the alley.

Take a left at the butcher’s shop.

Grab some clothes from the clothes lines.

Don’t stop walking.

Leg hurts bad, that’s weird.

This street is familiar. It’s safe.

Get to the roof.

Grab ladder.

Pull up- aghhhhhh. No, no. Hurts. Don’t pull.

Arm is bad.

Something’s really wrong.

Stay silent.

Keep going.

Find dad.

__________________________________________

“Hey new kid! You got a smoke?”

“…Oi, kid. I’m talking to you.”

“Leave ‘im be, he’s not right in the ‘ead.”

“Well fuck. He does seem stupid.”

“Wait, he’s coming over.”

“He’s giving you something, look.”

“Hey, this isn’t a cig. It’s…a sandwich? The fuck?”

“He must think you said food.”

“Well, fuck me. Thanks kid.”

__________________________________________

Someone is shouting. Attackers in front. Hurt lady on floor. Rush from behind. Use good leg. Jump up. Box ears. Hit neck. Trip up. Elbow to nose. Knock out. Help lady up. Keep looking for dad.

__________________________________________

“Hey, isn’t that the kid that saved Sugar the other night?”

“In the red? It does look like him.”

“Hey kid!”

“What’s your name brat?”

“…Not all there huh. That’s ok. We’ll call you Red then. How’s that sound CC?”

“Fits for sure. Come by the corner on fifth sometimes Red. We’ve got a safe place for the cold nights, ok? A friend of Sugar’s is a friend of ours.”

__________________________________________

“Did you hear about that hospital?”

“The one the Joker gassed? Yeah I heard. Fucking horrifying. Bastard blocked the doors so no one could get out.”

“Anyone dead?”

“Yeah. They’re still counting.”

__________________________________________

Bruce. Find Bruce. Dad knows where home is. We’ll go home and fix the wrong things. Just find Bruce.

__________________________________________

“Oh little one. You are completely lost aren’t you.”

“…”

“Come with me Robin. I shall take you home.”

“…B?”

“Yes lamb. Home to Bruce.”

__________________________________________

Liar.

__________________________________________

“Your little experiment is a failure daughter. The boy is indeed the lost Robin but any knowledge of his resurrection is unattainable for us.”

“Of all people in this world father, we have enough time to spare on him. We lose nothing if we continue to push him towards healing.”

“We risk Batman’s wrath. I shall give you some more time but do not get attached. The boy is nothing but a shell.”

__________________________________________

“You know who I am. You recognize your enemies. Stop hiding and wake up child.”

__________________________________________

“Strike all your enemies Robin, do not show mercy.”

__________________________________________

“Get up. I know you were taught how to fight through the pain. Stand.”

__________________________________________

“Do you wish to watch the sunset lamb?”

__________________________________________

“He misses you.”

__________________________________________

“Mother, your pet is staring at me again.”

“He is simply curious love. You must remind him of your father.”

__________________________________________

“He’s like one of the ducklings down at the pond. Waddling after wherever you go.”

“No need to be jealous habibi. You may join him in your free time whenever you wish.”

“I am the heir to the Demon’s Head! I am not jealous of an unthinking broken oaf. “

“Good. He enjoys your company you know.”

“Mother, he enjoys nothing.”

__________________________________________

“His training is at a standstill lady Talia. The right leg is as repaired as it will ever be but the nerve damaged was severe. He will never fully regain function over it, or his full motor function of the upper left arm. Not to mention the internal weaknesses his injuries caused. He is more liability than anything.”

__________________________________________

“You did good today lamb. Come, I believe we may just catch the sunset.”

__________________________________________

“Father is taking Damian far away again. I do not know if he will return before- well. I hope you shall see him before he leaves.”

__________________________________________

“Take care of Mother oaf. It’s about the only thing you’re capable of. When I return I shall see to helping your improvement. It seems to please her when you do just about anything new.”

__________________________________________

“What are you holding lamb? Oh, that is called a desert rose. Quite beautiful no? I wonder…Do these gardens remind you of home little one?”

“Oh, you wish to give it to me. That is- Thank you lamb.”

__________________________________________

“Your father gets worse every day. I fear where this will end.”

__________________________________________

“Enough is enough daughter. I have indulged you for far too long. The child is being sent away to live out his days in comfort. Do not oppose me on this.”

__________________________________________

“This is not right.”

“Lady Talia you-“

“No! This is not right Ubu, by any means. The progress might be slow but it exists, he cannot just-“

“He cannot lady Talia?”

“…He can. What the Demon’s Head wishes, so it shall be done.”

__________________________________________

“Come quietly lamb. There isn’t much time.”

__________________________________________

“Sir.”

“Yes Ubu, what is it?”

“I believe Lady Talia will head into the pits with the boy. If we leave immediately we might be able to stop her.”

“The nerve of- Do it. Kill the boy on sight if he has been in the pit. Leave my daughter to me.”

 __________________________________________

Talia said to follow. The air smells acidic. Everything is-blurry.

Green glowing.

She’s scared.

Is someone chasing them?

They speed up.

There’s a lake of green beneath them. She’s staring at him but she isn’t saying anything yet.

Her hands are warm, on his arm, on his face, on his chest.

“I wish we had more time lamb. I’m truly sorry.”

And then her hands pushed.

__________________________________________

The green swallowed Jason up as Talia watched from above. She listened, the sound of bones being broken and realigned echoing around, the hiss of acid never leaving. The screaming came after, once the water finally shook him into awareness long enough to register the pain. It only stops when the water whirlpools, dragging the body deeper.

Talia had seen the pit work since she was a child. She knew exactly which sounds came in which order.

It’s how she knew Ubu and his men arrived during the middle of the process.

He didn’t even look at her, leaving his lackeys to attempt to restrain her while he and his men aimed at the water. They waited for Jason to reemerge so they could get a clean shot in. Even the pit cannot heal decapitation.

They didn’t get the chance. The daughter of the Demon’s Head is not helpless by any means, but more so than that she is unyielding and possessive.

And they shall not harm a hair on those she considers hers.

The lackeys around her were all dead on the floor within minutes, Talia’s single dagger slick with blood. She didn’t waste time aiming at Ubu like he expected, or running at his surrounding lackeys.

She jumped into the pit.

The water burned like open flame, searing every single part of her skin. She had no injuries to heal so the water stripped away her dying cells as if they were scabs and not skin.

It was maddening. If she stays a minute longer it will rip her apart fully.

Talia opened her eyes.

She found the boy frantically trying to swim upwards, his arm and leg still in the process of being repaired, his squirming only making it more painful. She grabbed him and dragged upwards.

Up and up and up, using every single fiber she had trained to resist the pit’s screaming.

They broke surface. The lackey’s aimed. Ubu yelled at them to stand down.

Talia picked Jason up in a bridal carry and ran out, easily pushing back against any attacker.

The water was seeping into her more and more with every step. Jason’s struggling was a desperate thing but the pain stopped him from being unmanageable.

They didn’t slow, both of their world’s turning greener by the second, until they finally reached the cliff side.

Talia had to make a choice.

She was going to throw Jason from here, if he had fully healed and she would have returned to her father, accepting the punishment.

But Jason wasn’t healed.

His eyes were frantic, scared, his mind returned in a barrage of pain.

The body wasn’t fixed. If she threw him into the world he won’t be able to defend himself or swim against the current.

Her father will not take her insubordination well but this- it is deserting. It is betraying.

The green hissed in pleasure at the thought.

“Tal-ia?”

She had to make a choice. So she did.

“Shush lamb. Close your eyes.”

She jumped.

__________________________________________

The water was cold.

__________________________________________

They woke up alone and lost. But together. Somehow still together.

__________________________________________

“I was dead?”

__________________________________________

“He didn’t find me?”

__________________________________________

“He isn’t dead. Why isn’t he dead.”

__________________________________________

“Tals? What happened?”

“A pit attack lamb. The water claims your mind if you give into the anger, it makes you cause pain until you feel better.”

“But that’s-I wouldn’t-I never”

“I know. Do not blame yourself, the pit reduces all of our self-restraint to nothing.”

“It controlled me to cut my own arms up like a turkey?”

“It called for blood. You delivered. If there was anyone else here-”

“I would have hurt them. Killed them?”

“Perhaps. I would usually allow you to fight to your heart’s content but-“

“But I’m still hurt, I know. What if-“

“It will pass with time little one. It will pass. I won’t allow it to do anything I cannot remedy”

__________________________________________

“I’m not going to get better, am I Tals?”

__________________________________________

“The sun set is rather striking here. Far different than home. Do you wish to see?”

“No.”

__________________________________________

“Give it time.”

“I’ve already lost two years of my life, how much more goddam time do you want!”

__________________________________________

“Use the crutches Jason. It is not a request.”

__________________________________________

“I hate this. I hate this, I hate this, I hate hate hate hate-“

__________________________________________

“I want my legs back Tals. I want to walk to the window without feeling like someone cut my leg off. I want- I want to stand up. I want to-Don’t look at me like that goddammit!”

__________________________________________

"I'm sorry Talia."

__________________________________________

“Breath in. Hold. Stretch your arms out. Release. Do not let the anger consume. Push it back. Breath in.”

__________________________________________

“Will I always need the fucking crutches?”

“Language. And it depends.”

“On?”

“If you use them properly. And I do believe there might be surgeries that could improve your condition. We will have to be discreet but- I believe we can see it through.”

__________________________________________

“I want them dead Tals.“

“Your father deserves something far less merciful little one.”

“Like what?”

“Take his city from him. Show him exactly what he refuses to see. Prove him wrong. That will hurt far more than anything else.”

“Gee, great idea Tals! A teen with a bum leg going up against Batman! Sounds like a close fight! Who the fuck are you kidding?”

“Not everything must happen through force of muscle Jason. There are far more elegant ways to get what you want.”

“Poison really isn’t my style.”

“You jest, but not my point. You have information at your fingertips little one, priceless, dangerous information only available to few. Use it. Find a way to weaponize it. Do not think by your father’s methods.”

__________________________________________

“I’m going to bludgeon someone with these crutches one day, I swear-“

__________________________________________

“Tals? Why are you covered with blood?”

“Father sent heartfelt greetings in the form of some of his men. My own anger certainly enjoyed the offering.”

__________________________________________

“You know little one, you do not have to do this. Give me the word and I shall dispatch the clown by next week. You can stay with Damian and I. We can…We can find somewhere worth your loyalties.

__________________________________________

“You said something about a sunset Tals?”

__________________________________________

“Well, you were right. It is really different. It’s…it’s pretty.”

__________________________________________

“Have you made a decision lamb?”

“I’ve thought about it. It’s just- No option is good you know? I could go right now, break into Arkham and kill the clown but. That won’t do anything. It won’t mean anything, to me, to Bruce, hell, even to Gotham.

I want it to mean something. It has to mean something.

And I can’t live life knowing that piece of shit killed me, kills people every day, and it means nothing.

And he knows it! He knows they won’t do anything, they won’t punish him he-

He told me I don’t matter enough for anything to change.

And he was right.”

“…I suppose this isn’t your way of asking to stay with me, is it.”

“There’s another option. The reason they let him get away with it Talia, it’s the stupidest thing you’ll ever hear. They let him plead insanity, every time. They let him avoid the death penalty every time. “

“The laws of your state allow that?”

“As long as Bruce Wayne pushes for the penalty to never be used they never will. He even makes sure the trials are hidden from the public so people don’t get upset. Keeps

all the Joker papers under lock and key so he makes sure they say what he wants. Batman is the only reason that stain still breaths Tals.“

“So what you want is-“

“I want to make the system work. This one fucking time. I want the system to not fail me. “

“But you will have to go against Bruce publicly. Take down his systems by hand.”

“I know. Fuck, I don’t even know if it’s possible but- There’s nothing else that will do the job. Nothing else will break this endless cycle. I have to take him to court. I need to this Tals I-“

“Enough lamb. I understand. And you have my full support.”

“I do?”

“Never doubt it, not when we have come this far.”

__________________________________________

“We need a reason for the case to go through first.”

“Leave that to me. I have some connections that might help.”

__________________________________________

“You think we could get this around Gordon somehow?”

__________________________________________

“The prosecutor will have to be in our pocket, that’s a no brainer.”

__________________________________________

“What do you mean ‘he has a new Robin’.”

__________________________________________

“Tals? Where am I?”

“You’re safe lamb. None of the blood is yours, I promise.”

__________________________________________

“We’re going to need more backing.”

“Anyone in mind?”

“Perhaps. What are your opinions on Lex Luthor?”

“If his shiny head was as big as his ego they’d use it to stop global warming by deflecting the sun back into the atmosphere.”

“…”

“Sorry. Dick and I did this thing where-nevermind.”

__________________________________________

“Okay Todd, deep breaths. You’ve got this! Just… Take a step. Right. Left. Right. Fuckkk, that smarts. Ok, left. Breath. Like Talia said, just put it back. Come on, right.”

__________________________________________

“Holy hell. I actually walked on my own.”

__________________________________________

"Why not simply expose him little one?"

“You mean Batman. Well. Bruce deserves it, sure. Dick as well for letting all this go on for so long. The new kid can bite the dust as far as I’m concerned but-“

“It would expose Batgirl as well, along with your grandfather. You do not blame them like the others?”

“Look, it a bit more complicated. Gotham’s a hellhole. It needs every little speck of good it can get. Putting Batman out of commission, when I can’t replace him will just set fire to everything. Barbie and Alfie don’t deserve that or any the rest of the grief either.”

“But then how will you hurt him?”

“Simple. I’ll make a Gotham that doesn’t need him anymore.”

“They will never know you for the hero you were. All that sacrifice will be for nothing.”

“I never did it for the fucking credit Talia. I did it because it was the right thing to do. Just like this is the right thing to do. It’s at least something I’m used to. I’ve been telling people for years that when it comes to Robin-“

__________________________________________

“I have nothing to do with him at all.”

The prosecutor froze, an eyebrow jumping up.

Jason continued. “The only thing I have to do with him is a similar hair color.” He shrugged. “But Sheila saw a hail Mary you know. I was a stupid kid trying to impress his mom, so I told her I know where Bruce keeps the Batman and Robin costumes.”

“What? Why did he have those?”

“What d’ya mean why? Everyone knows Bruce is Batman’s sponsor. He keeps reserves for the bastard wherever we go. “

“So you showed her the costume. And you put it on?”

“She told me to.”

“And you listened?”

“Hard to argue with a gun to your head.”

The prosecutor nodded. “Where was Wayne at this time?”

“Sightseeing I think.”

“And he left you with her?”

Jason sighed. “That one was my fault. I asked to stay with her so I could talk with her more.”

“How old were you at the time?”

“Fifteen.”

“So your adoptive father left a minor with an unknown woman for a long period of time in a foreign country while he went…sightseeing?”

Jason didn’t answer beyond a shrug.  

“Alright. Please continue.”

“She brought me to the warehouse.” He nodded towards the Joker. “Chuckles was inside and he bought her whole spiel. Took out a crowbar and-“ Jason’s eyes looked at the ceiling. He continued in a far quitter voice.

“Well, he had his fun. You’ve seen the autopsy report, a lot of it is true. Unfortunately for Sheila making deals with the Devil didn’t end up quite as happy as she wanted. He tied her with me in the warehouse. Set the bomb and left. Last thing I remember was it going off.”

“I’m sorry to make you relive this Jason but can you tell us what happened next?”

“I woke up in a hospital. I’m not sure how I got there, someone brought me in. “

“Why didn’t you come home?”

Jason snorted. “Because I turned on the news. Turns out I got hit in the head a bit too much, ended up in a coma for six months. Joker was back in Arkham, Sheila was dead and so was I apparently. And by the time I healed enough to even think about going back-“

For the first time since the trial started Jason’s ice cold gaze registered Tim in the audience. “Well, it seemed like my room had already been rented out. And I didn’t feel like coming back to the same city that had a homicidal clown who knew my name.”

“Where did you go?”

“Well, one thing ended up going my way. I ran into Ms. Head while I wandered around. She helped me get back on my feet.”

“So why did you decide to come back now?”

“Because mister prosecutor, there was one single thing that kept me going through two years of godawful pain filled recovery. Just one, And it was making sure that monster never raised his hand on someone again. This rotten city keeps letting Batman punch him and send him back to Arkham at the low low price of innocent lives destroyed and ruined every single time.”

The crowd around Tim started murmuring.

“And no one does anything cause he just pleads insanity.” Jason spat out. “You want to know what insanity is? It’s letting that pasty face bastard run Gotham in circles, again and again and not doing anything about it! Well, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of waiting for Batman to do his job.”

He looked at Bruce unflinchingly. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll tell my story a million times if I need to. I want that clown dead.”

“One last thing. Was Batman in Ethiopia at the time?”

“He was. He chased the Joker there.”

Finally, the prosecutor faced the crowd and let the silence stretch for a moment. Walking slowly to the center of the room he addressed all of those present.

“We have now heard all that is necessary to explain the holes in this case. Jason arrived in Ethiopia in chase of his mother, his adoptive father following soon after him. The Joker, hearing that someone found Sheila Haywood, followed the two in order to threaten her. Haywood succumbed to the threats, and in an attempt to satisfy him, gave him a boy dressed as Robin. Joker believed the ruse, and proceeded to torture the boy.

He set off an explosion that killed Sheila Haywood and severely injured Jason.

Now, here is where Wayne’s testimony becomes shaky. He says he found Jason’s body first, took it away and then returned it to the police two hours later.

I offer a counter theory. It would make sense, wouldn't it, that the real reason they waited two hours was to set up a boy in a hospital. They got him out of the incriminating outfit and made up a story that would paint Wayne as a tragic parent, instead of a neglectful one.

Seeing as how Jason was as good as dead that’s how they left him”

“I’m afraid you’re forgetting something Mister Prosecutor, but there was a body.”

“What body your honor?”

“The body Wayne buried. Surly you remember that.”

“I remember a closed casket. I certainly don’t remember a body. “

“Are you saying-“

“That the grave is empty? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I propose we dig it up and check.”

“Mister prosecutor is right. There’s probably nothing in there. Or well, I’m sure as hell not in there so-“

As the crowd chatter picked up and the jury looked properly horrified Jason took a second to enjoy his victory.

It doesn’t matter that some details aren’t completely clear. It doesn’t matter half of it is conjecture. It doesn’t matter Bruce has faked financial records when Talia has actual hospital records that are only slightly altered. It doesn’t matter people love Bruce when they hate the Joker more.

They’re buying it all hook line and sinker. Because at the end of the day Jason’s story is closer to truth than Bruce’s ever was.

And not a single person can claim to have a stronger eye witness record than him.

As Jason gazed at the courtroom he noticed a movement at the defense’s bench. The attorney cast a look back at the crowd, searching for something before straightening up.

Hell. The clown caught it too, smiling at Jason like he read his thoughts.

“I have no further questions your honor.”

“The defense has no questions as well.”

“With this the prosecution has finished presenting its case your honor. I believe we have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that The Joker killed Sheila Haywood on that day, with intent and malice, along a slew of other horrific crimes. It needs to be stopped. Here and now.”

Jason walked off of the stand and over to the front bench where Talia sat waiting for him, a proud smile on her face.

“Defense, do you have any witnesses you wish to call to prove your insanity defense?”

“Oh um-“ the attorney shifted from foot to foot, licking his lips.” Well I. I mean-“

“A little louder please.”

“I call, I mean we call, that is. The defense…calls Batman to the stand.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room.

Someone coughed.

“You wish to…call Batman to the stand. How exactly do you think we can accomplish that?”

“Well um-“

“I can contact him your honor.”

And just like a cockroach that refuses to die, Bruce Wayne raises from the depths of defeat to complicate things further.

“Many horrible allegations were raised here and they tarnish the sanctity of this trial. I can contact Batman and find a way for him to testify, if it is the court’s wish. We should not send a man off to death without checking all available witnesses.”

And just like his father, the son too refuses to keep quiet.

“Not a man Wayne. A monster. At least get that part right.”

__________________________________________

The trial was adjourned until further notice.

Chapter Text

He got taller.

Somehow, that was the first thing Bruce noticed.

In his mind’s eye, when he imagined Jason walking in through those doors, he saw Jason at fifteen. Gangly, muscles on far too thin limbs, freckles on a grinning face, shoulders that were only just starting to fill out Jason. The one that only reached half of Bruce’s height.

Logically, he knew he should have expected him to be older. Something stopped him from doing so.

Jason was taller. The rest of him seemed to finally catch up to his long arms and legs. He might be Dick’s height now, maybe even a little shorter. Still lean, still a bit thin.

Well. He was just 18. He should still…grow.

That hadn’t been an option until then.

It left Bruce a little lightheaded.

And then Jason took a step forward and the lightheadedness disappeared. Jason’s right leg dragged behind the other in a noticeable limp. He kept it ridged, walked confidently even with it, showed no signs of pain.

‘Heavy blunt trauma to the front lobe, cracked skull, five broken bones in the right leg and one in the left…’

Nerve damage. Torn muscle. Permanent injury.

 Of course. Bruce knew full well everything has consequences. He knows every action has a reaction. He knows Jason’s injuries were horrible. He knows injuries like that leave marks.

And yet a part of him, that part that had risen from the ashes of the cigar he had lit in the alley, it made Bruce blind. Made him believe that, if his son truly was alive, there wasn’t a scratch on him. That Ethiopia didn’t leave its claws inside him, that Jason didn’t let it. That Jay brushed off the blood and sand and stood up while Bruce wasn’t looking. Like he always did.

But his sons were just human. Like him. No matter how incredible they are, they’re just human.

And humans bend and break.

That logic didn’t make the screaming pain, the one that stabbed his chest every time Jay took a too long step, go away.

-------------------------------------------

Once trial finished the mayhem once again swept everyone up.

Bruce kept his eyes on Jason in the crowd, shot out of his seat to reach for the boy, pushed through everything only to come face to face with Talia, who stood between the two like a wall.

She didn’t say a word, simply waved her hand. At the command her bodyguards took her place as she turned to leave.

Jason was a foot away. But Bruce couldn’t reach. All he got was a look at Jason’s passing face, eyes locked to Bruce’s own.

It lasted two seconds. And then he was gone.

His eyes were the wrong shade of blue.

-------------------------------------------

Pushing through the crowd was easy. Pushing through the reporters was a nightmare. It was like they had all collectively agreed to make a human wall between the Waynes and their car. And they really weren’t taking “no comment” for an answer.

“Mister Wayne, did you conspire with Batman!”

“Mister Wayne did the testimony make you emotional?!”

“Mister Wayne do you really keep spare Batman and Robin costumes? If so, do you wear them to private parties!”

“Wayne! Give us your best “I’m guilty” face!”

“Did Jason Todd tell the truth?”

“Were you really sightseeing in Ethiopia?”

“Did you sell out the boy to the Joker to save your own life?”

“ENOUGH!”

The crowd quieted. Bruce composed himself, took a second to straighten his tie and faced the sea of reporters.

“I apologies for my outburst. Today has been a long and straining day for me and my family and I must ask you understand we aren’t here for a press conference. I understand you are confused. I understand you want answers. But all I can offer at this time is the knowledge that we will get to the bottom of this. I had no idea Jason was alive, I had no idea he was so far away from me. Those are things I know for fact. Please hold all your other questions until we give official statements.”

The reporters looked at each other, unsure of whether to comply with Bruce’s wishes or to continue their digging.

Bruce used their confusion to keep walking forward, the wall finally parting enough to let him thorough.

-------------------------------------------

As soon as Bruce closed the car door he pulled out his phone and started his search. Talia’s car was easy to follow but he had to make sure they didn’t switch it. Find where they were staying, check the security, find a way in. If it’s a hotel maybe he could disguise himself-

“Bruce would you listen to me already!”

Snapping back into the moment Bruce looked up to see an angry looking Dick.

“You can’t check out on me now Bruce, we need to talk this through.”

“Talk what through?”

“It really is him isn’t it? The speech pattern is the same, the facial features seem to match, the emotions seemed…genuine. I think-God, I don’t know how but-I think you were right Bruce.”

Tim kept his eyes down on the shirt cuff he was fiddling with, the only sign of nervousness he allowed himself. “We can’t say that yet.”

“That wasn’t a really good impression Tim, that was Jason to a ‘t’. It has to be him.”

At that Tim looked a bit at his brother. “How would you know Dick?”

“Excuse me?”

“No offense.” The dry tone of voice added. “But you didn’t really know him Dick. You’re comparing video data just like I am, and while I agree he looks like Jason that means almost nothing. Everything else can be imitated and-“, the teen hesitated before continuing,” there’s some things that didn’t feel right. He isn’t acting like the Robin from the videos.”

Dick stared at his Tim with widened eyes. Lost in the moment his voice got a bit louder. “No offense? He was still my brother Tim. I didn’t know him as well as I should have but I think I knew enough to recognize him.”

The teen didn’t follow up but Dick could tell. Tim didn’t agree with him.

Instead of forcing the issue, Tim looked to Bruce in an unspoken question.

You knew him the best Bruce. You should be able to tell.

Bruce rewound what little he had seen of the Jason that had walked in. He took apart the facial features, compared the way he spoke, listened to the voice and imagined what his laugh would sound like. He stripped down the testimony into raw words and emotions and saw what Tim saw.

There were some reactions that didn’t fit.

First was the sudden quiet when he spoke of the crowbar.

Jason refused to be quiet. For anyone. If Freeze caused him hypothermia he cursed at him through chattering teeth, if Selina teased him he would loudly tell her Bruce was too good for her with flushed cheeks. When Two Face broke his leg Jay made it his personal mission in life to taunt the man because he didn’t get the other one. Riddler to this day makes sure to gag anyone he kidnaps because Jason specifically kept signing the most obnoxious songs he could think of until he drove Eddie mad.

Jason Todd refused to show fear. Even when he had nothing but the shirt on his back and tire iron in hand while above him stood a man grown men feared.

The quiet didn’t fit, not in front of so many people, not in front of the Joker. The only times Jason ever allowed himself that were twilight moments of peace. The time Bruce took him to Catherin’s grave on Mother’s day, the drive home from his eight grade graduation day, the first time the two of them helped an overdosed girl to hospital. Jason let Bruce see fully just how much emotion constantly drives the boy forward.

Today’s quiet was fear. The one Bruce heard the least. When Jason got hit with Crane’s gas he would scream himself hoarse, only to later break apart quietly while Bruce tried his hardest to shush his sobs.

The only other time that Bruce could remember was the day he told Jason he was fired.

The other reaction that stood out was the quick switch between moods. His jump between quiet remembrance and seething anger was a split second. Jason always had issues controlling his stronger emotions but never like this. Bruce could always tell when Jason’s anger was rising, it never simply appeared.

But the one Tim was probably referring to was Jason’s well covered contempt of Tim himself. To everyone else Jason probably simply looked hurt by Tim’s presence, or perhaps indifferent. But Bruce saw the way Jason’s face went completely still when he looked at Tim. He was making sure he didn’t scowl.

It stood out simply because Jason never gave kids anything other than comfort and affection. No matter what, no matter who.

‘You go chase after Crane B. The younger brats need someone to make sure they keep their masks on, I don’ mind stayin’.’

Bruce always wondered if the reason Dick’s coldness hurt so much was because Jason desperately wanted siblings.

He told Tim his opinion at last.

“There were…some inconsistencies in the reactions.”

“What? Which ones?”

“His quiet in the middle, then his sudden switch to anger, followed by his contempt for Tim. ”

Dick blinked at Bruce, chewed on the words for a few seconds before a look of disbelief washed over him.

“His quiet in the middle? You mean the part where he was recounting his traumatic torture Bruce?”

“It was too open. Jason never allowed himself that much vulnerability.”

With a mad twist to his lips Dick countered. “What exactly did you expect? Him to twirl with the thing and laugh it off!? It’s a trauma response Bruce, he went through hell! You can’t expect him to just brush it off like everything he did before.”

“It’s still an inconsistency. I’m not saying I disagree, simply that I noticed.”

“Yeah well you sure as hell aren’t noticing the important parts. What I saw was a person who had completely normal reactions to sitting in the same room as their murderer. You call it a sudden switch in moods, I call it emotional distress. We’ve both led enough teams and people to recognize it Bruce. The only reason it’s inconsistent to you is because the Jason you remember is a Jason of three years ago.”

“Then what about me?”

Dick turned to Tim, surprised to see him looking angry as well.

“Does the emotional distress also make him hate people he’s never met or is that just normal?”

“Hate you? He barley said anything about you.”

“It was enough, Bruce noticed it too Dick.”

“I don’t-Well. There is a reason but it won’t make you feel any better.”

“You mean Robin.”

Dick sighed, slumping into his seat. “Yeah. Finding out there was a new Robin isn’t easy but- I didn’t exactly give him a good example of how to be a good sport about it. ”

“You’re right. It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Enough. Both of you have valid points.”

There were some strange facts, some pieces that didn’t fit. Jason’s wrongly shaded eyes the most damming of them all.

But against that entire pile stood a single moment Bruce recalled, when even against everything Bruce felt like he was looking at his son.

The boys head swung up, staring directly into Bruce’s eyes with determination he hadn’t seen in three years. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll tell my story a million times if I need to. I want that clown dead.”

“We’ll get the DNA. Make sure.”

But Bruce already knew what the answer was. He knew his next stop was to speak to his son.

-------------------------------------------

Once night had fallen Batman took to Gotham’s dimly light streets with a singular location in mind. When he reached Talia’s hotel he wasn’t surprised to find the door to her balcony wide open, or the light streaming from inside.

Safe in the knowledge that Nightwing and Robin were patrolling in his stead Batman entered without much hesitation.

The penthouse apartment was mostly dark except for the kitchen area where a single yellow light shone above a glass table. On the table sat a tea tray and three cups, all exquisite in their design.

Tapping against the glass was a laid back teen, casually dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. Bruce came closer into the light, and only when he stood at its edge did the tapping stop.

Jason looked Bruce over, not showing anything other than indifference. He waved at the chair opposite him.

“Talia said I should be a nice host and offer some tea when you finally showed your mug. Not that I get the point, it’s not like you’ll drink it, but-“, the teen shrugged,”I never understood rich people formalities anyway.”

Bruce finally stepped into the light fully and removed his cowl. Sitting face to face with Jason for the first time since- well, ever since the night before the boy ran away.

They didn’t speak while Jason picked up the third cup and slowly filled it with steaming tea that carried the scent of jasmine and honey. They didn’t speak while the tea was mixed and the softest clicks of ceramic surrounded them. They didn’t speak after Jason pushed the cup towards Bruce and the two simply stared at each other.

At the new wrinkles around Bruce’s eyes. At Jason’s unorganized collection of freckles. At the bruise on Bruce’s jaw. At the way Jason’s jaw was sharper now. At the frantic way Bruce cataloged every single detail like between them was the secret of salvation. At the cold look in Jason’s eyes as he stared at a Bruce Wayne that wasn’t a photograph or TV screen.

The tea stopped steaming by the time Bruce found his voice.

“Jason.”

“Bruce.”

“You’re alive.”

Jason raised his eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Alfred’s signature expression. He lifted a hand to his throat and placed two fingers on the pulse point.

“Ah. Well would you look at that! I guess I am. Thanks for the info B, here I thought that annoying thumping sound in my chest was just a bad cough.”

Before he could even stop himself one of Bruce’s own hands darted out and closed around Jason’s wrist, checking the pulse himself. Checking to see if his hand won’t go through the skin like it wasn’t even there. Checking to see if Jason was warm to the touch or as cold as the last time Bruce held him.

It was warm, solid and flinching back from the sudden grab before stilling and allowing Bruce the strange comfort.

This time Bruce’s “you’re alive” sounded far more raw.

And the response, “Yeah. I guess I am huh.”,was far more quiet than the previous one.

Bruce forced himself to release the arm. Swallowing the tightness in his throat away he tried to decide on what to ask. On what to say. But the buzzing in his head was too disrupting. The only words that kept popping up were ‘alive’ and ‘thank God’ and ‘please please please don’t disappear’.

 Luckily for Bruce his children somehow know when he needs a bit of a jump start.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring the lasso.”

“What?”

“Of truth. You know, every interrogation’s best friend? Speeds up the process when you don’t need to hold me over the balcony railing for some answers.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“Really? You didn’t sound so friendly on the phone.”

“I didn’t know- I thought it was an imposter. “

“Yes, I know Bruce. You thought it was an imposter because I was supposed to be worm food for three years now. Real annoying when the things you like to keep out of sight, out of mind, just pop back up again, ain’t it?”

“Annoying? I wasn’t annoyed, I was mad. ”

“Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“I was mad because I thought someone was using your name to get to me. I thought- I thought they were tarnishing your memory to hurt me.”

A cruel laugh bubbled up from Jason and Bruce stiffened at the strange sound.

“ ‘Tarnish my memory’? Who the fuck are you kidding B? What memory? No one in this city even remembered I existed until Vicki screamed my name over national TV. If you’re gonna pull bullshit like that at least make it sound convincing.”

“Bullshit? Jason, you were dead. I thought you were dead! The only thing I had of you were memories. “

“Yeah, that is a sucky deal. Should have just asked Manhunter to erase those really. Probably be better without.”

Bruce felt the unease take over his whole body.

“Jason, what in the world are you talking about. I could never…”

“You sure as hell did try. “

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah? Why is my grave in Gotham cemetery then?”

Bruce stopped  cold for a second. “I thought you’d want to be next to your mother.”

“The woman who helped kill me you mean.”

The flinch Bruce made pleased Jason a little. “That’s right Greatest Detective. That little detail slipped by you huh? I gotta know. Did you even fucking care enough to think about it? From your files I’d say you just assumed. It was a real enlightening read.“

Jason’s fist slammed against the table lightly, the china jumping up a bit.

“My ‘insubordination’ led to my avoidable capture, as well as the capture of my mother. My ‘hot headedness’ got both of us caught and killed. My ‘rash nature’ proved to be the fucking fatal flaw. Case closed. It didn’t matter that we were partners for three years. It didn’t matter that you knew full well I promised to wait. It never occurred to you to just give me the benefit of the doubt and check. Is that the fucking memory you’re tarnishing Bruce? Because if it is you have my full permission to tarnish it to hell and back!”

“It’s not!” Bruce yelled back. “ Of course I checked, I tore apart everything I could- all of Sheila’s files were in that warehouse. If there was any proof of her criminal activities it went with her, I would have found it otherwise.”

“Why didn’t you just ask the Joker?”

At that Bruce went silent and Jason smiled in cruel victory. “Bat got your tongue?”

“I couldn’t.”

“You could. You didn’t because you didn’t think there was a point. You assumed. You wrote it down. You closed the case and put me in the ground. Then you were finally free to move on with your life.”

“That’s not true.”

Jason groaned. “I’m not eleven anymore. I know you’re lying.”

“You think my caring about you is an act?”

“Funny how dying puts things into perspective. What, you want me to prove it? Fine, how about this then Bruce. We’ll do this like it’s a case.”

Jason raised his index finger up. “You finally got sick of me when I died B. Technically, I wasn’t even Robin when I died, I was fired. You buried me in the public cemetery and of course you didn’t let the failure have the honor of a Wayne last name. Jason Peter Todd was a failed project that deserved to rot as he lived. That’s exactly what you put on my tomb stone.“

Bruce felt his stomach twist at the words, most of all at Jason’s completely assured voice.

“But hey, my story is at least somewhat educational! And sure, the mud on my grave wasn’t even settled when you got a new bird but the nice Robin monument should scare the kid straight enough. Wouldn’t want a repeat after all.”

“Stop.”

“Oh, I’m far from done. Trouble with remembering though, you want to scare the kid but not give him any ideas. So of course you pull down all of my pictures from the walls. Oh, don’t look so surprised B. I snuck in when you weren’t looking, I know exactly what the house looks like now. I know there isn’t even one single thing left of me. You locked my room, took down my pictures, hell you even-“. Finally, Jason’s voice cracked a bit, slowing down the rant.” You even removed all the books we collected. Thoroughly scrubbed me from every fucking nook of the mansion. So the perfect little replacement never accidentally has a rebellious faze or something, and you never have to remember the biggest waste of time you ever let live there.”

Jason cleared his throat before continuing. “I was stupid. I was a kid, I was naïve. I see it now, but back then I thought- I thought I was actually important to you. You told me you wanted to be like a father to me, and I just never realized it doesn’t work like that. You don’t just magically like someone because you call them family. I figured that out pretty quick though. The second I saw The Joker was still alive and happily killing. When I saw all that was left of me was ‘a good solider’ and you were still doing everything the same just with a new kid.”

A cold cold feeling entered both his voice and eyes.

“I meant nothing. In the big picture, in any way that mattered, I meant nothing. Like I never even existed. I wasn’t anything worth remembering in the hero community, just a bad knock-off that no one wanted. Jason Todd on the other hand was just one in a million of Gotham’s problem children, so again, nothing special. And you know what B?”

Bruce didn’t answer, and Jason kept going.

“I didn’t care. All of that? I knew it when I was alive the first round. It sucked, but I could deal. Because despite all of it, I had a dad.

And the funny part? He kinda sucked at his job.

He didn’t really know how to be a dad. Kinda felt like every hug he gave he had to order himself to give it. Way too nosy when he wasn’t busy and fucking unreachable when he was. And he was busy a lot. “

Little needles stabbed the inside of Bruce’s throat. Jason’s ghost screaming all of Bruce’s failures at him wasn’t a new idea, but it cut his heart into pieces anyway. Even worse when the Jason in front of him wasn’t cutting with sharp screams, but with a dull voice that would crack and bleed pain the longer he spoke.

“And the sad thing is I wouldn’t have traded him for the fucking world B.

Because he didn’t know how to be a dad but I didn’t know how to be a son either. I didn’t know how to hug back because I’d get scared, I didn’t tell him half the things I went through cause I didn’t want him to get sick of me. I didn’t listen to his advice a lot because I thought I knew everything.

He didn’t know what to expect, and I was in the same boat.

Sometimes, we’d spend a day barley seeing each other. But the next day we’d talk for hours about Gotham’s new museum, or a cool car that was coming out, or Selina’s collection of cats. He’d come to my three hour drama class recital on a work day to see me recite something for three minutes. We’d fight over something on a rooftop downtown and then apologize in the morning over breakfast.

And that was-it was worth all the other bullshit. It was ok. All I ever wanted was ok.”, the voice cracked,” I thought we were ok. We weren’t the best father and son in the world but dammit I thought- I thought we were good enough to pass.”

Jason finished in a whisper, hands clenched on the table. His breathing was uneven, carried away by the long stream of thought. Bruce listened as Jason worked on evening it out and tried not to sound as broken as he felt.

“We were Jay. We were family from the moment I brought you into the house. You never left that house. Not even when you-not even in death did you stop being my son. Not for a single second.“

Dropping whatever composure he had regained Jason looked at Bruce with pure pain on his face, edged with anger.

“Liar! You can’t just pretend the last three years didn’t happen. If I was really your son my death would have mattered enough for it to change something. Anything. “

“Your death was the single worst thing I ever went through.”

That got Jason’s attention. Bruce took the single chance he had and decided the only way he’d break through all of Jason’s twisted thoughts was by being as honest as his son was. To say the things he’d never told anyone.

“I’ve seen my parents die. I buried them. I mourned for them. I still do. I’ve watched friends and comrades die without warning. I’ve felt every bone in my body break. I’ve seen my city burn and collapse.

None of it hurts as much as seeing a single image of you does.

I took the pictures down Jay. I went around the house, grabbed every single one I could find and pushed them into a box. I grabbed all your things and threw them into your room before I locked it. I sent all the books we collected to storage.

I couldn’t look at any of it Jay. Just seeing it made me want to tare Gotham apart with my bare hands. I kept walking across your hoodies, or finding your sticky notes in random rooms and I’d stare at them for hours. I didn’t hide those things because I didn’t want to think of you Jay. I hid them because all I did for months was just think of you. Of the son I couldn’t hold anymore. I missed you so much Jay. It was suffocating me.”

Bruce took a breath. “You deserved so much better. You deserved a far better dad than I ever was. I loved you but I never took the time to make sure you knew that. I kept all my focus on making sure you succeeded as Robin. I had a son but I treated you too much like a solider and – by the time I figured it out it was too late. You were dead and I didn’t deserve a son like you for even a second. I didn’t have the right to call you my son after I failed you so miserably. That’s why I buried you so far away. That’s why I didn’t leave the Wayne on your headstone. That’s why-“

The memory played out in Bruce’s mind, clear as crystal. Jason had been dead for a week, Bruce’s gloves still stained with blood he couldn’t wash away. He was mindlessly working on Robin’s memorial, putting all his effort into the display. He’d made the pedestal. He had created the dome, out of material that wouldn’t break easily. Something he could slam his fists into when he woke up with the smell of smoke and taste of sand and iron on his tongue. He set up the mended uniform as best as was possible, lighting up every stich Alfred made so Bruce could always count all the wounds.

All that had been left was the engraving.

He didn’t even think about it. The words engraved themselves.

ROBIN

‘Robin’ because the boy’s true name couldn’t be on display for anyone who comes to Bruce’s home base. ‘Robin’, even though his name was Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. A mouthful, Jason would say. Just call him Jay, he would say. Like the bird.

A

‘Robin’, even though Jason was so much more than that. But Jason always loved Robin more. Even if Jay was a bird too, he always wanted to be Robin more.

GOOD

Clark had called Jason a good kid. Like he even knew. Like any of them are even slightly aware of just how wonderful a kid the world lost. They didn’t know. They didn’t care. Bruce lost his son and the world didn’t even blink. It wasn’t fair.

S

 It wasn’t fair that Bruce has to live knowing Jason wasn’t there anymore.

O

It wasn’t fair Jason didn’t have a father who could have protected him. A family that showed him how loved he was. A home he didn’t run from. Jason wasn’t just a good kid. He was the best. And for some goddamn reason the universe gave him the worst it could. Ending it with someone who couldn’t even give him the justice he deserved.

Bruce has no right to call Jason his son.

His hand stayed waiting to engrave the next letter, and stayed and stayed. Until it started shaking, until Bruce’s entire frame buckled above the table and Bruce let himself fall apart one last time crying for a son that could no longer hear. He couldn’t write the ‘N’.

He engraved the plaque tomorrow, adding the letters LIDER with a numbness he could never describe to anyone.

“That’s why I didn’t put son on your memorial. I couldn’t Jay. I couldn’t.”

Jason stayed angry despite Bruce’s sincerity. His voice did sound a bit more strained however.

“Right. It made you feel some guilt so that makes it ok right? I felt shity when my mom died too you know, but funny thing, I didn’t go around telling people the reason she died was that she was a useless lazy drug addict who couldn’t do anything without fucking it up! I didn’t come up to you and demand you stay at least 50 feet away from any drug in sight. I didn’t knock every fucking glass of champagne out of your hands when I saw it. You didn’t just erase me Bruce. You made sure everyone who ever did thought I was just a fuck-up. What does that have to do with fucking missing me?”

“That’s not true. I never wanted anyone to think badly of you.”

At that Jason sprang to his feet, the chair scrapping against the floor roughly. He started walking away, but when Bruce rose to meet him Jason held up a hand.

“Don’t fucking move.”

Bruce stilled and sat back down, meanwhile Jason walked over to a nearby cabinet and rummaged around for something. Maybe it was because he was angry, or maybe he decided he didn’t have to put up an act now, but Jason’s limp was far more pronounced. When he returned, Jason slammed an old style tape record down on the table. He rewound the tape and pressed play, a soft buzzing filling the air immediately.

Then came the sounds of clashing weapons. From the sounds of it, metal staffs. They whistled through the air and collided for about ten seconds before Bruce heard his own voice.

‘Your aim is too low. Don’t hesitate to hurt me, strike as hard as you can.”

Tim’s voice, albeit younger than he is now, called out with a ‘yes sir.’

The sounds picked back up again and ended with a far louder clang.

‘If this weren’t a spar you’d be dead now Tim. I told you to not hesitate.’

‘But. I can’t Batman it’ll- it’ll hurt you.’

‘I gave you an order.’

‘Yes sir but I don’t see the need in-‘

‘You don’t have to see the need in anything. I gave you an order, and be it in the field or in the cave I expect you to follow it without hesitation immediately. That was the rule you agreed to when you became Robin.’

‘And I still agree Bru-Batman. But I don’t want to hurt you. You don’t hurt me like that.’

‘This won’t work like that Tim. I can’t work with someone who doesn’t follow orders. It’s not a partnership, it’s a liability. I’ve been doing this for far longer than any of you and my word has to be law. I need you to understand that before we go any further. The last Robin refused to understand that. He believed he knew better and it got him killed. You need to be better if you ever want to see fieldwork.’

‘…yes sir.’

Jason pressed the stop button.

“Talia gave me a lot of these you know. This is just one. She even gave me direct footage so I knew it wasn’t faked too.”

Bruce seemed a bit frozen, staring at Jason’s hurt glare.

“Well Bruce? How’s that for ‘tarnishing a memory’? A liability. A full of himself brat who never listened. Three years of a partnership, of training, of doing everything you asked, reduced to a few specific moments where I didn’t. Fucking hilarious, don’t you think?”

“I-“

He didn’t.

But he did.

He didn’t mean it.

But that’s what he wanted Tim to hear.

“…I needed to scare him. I couldn’t lose another kid.”

“And that makes it alright?”

Bruce stopped. Felt that familiar numbness slowly creep over his edges. Shook his head with a quiet no.

“Then I guess we’ve finally reached an understanding. “

Jason sat back down, resignation in every line of his body. A silence once again grew between them. Jason stared at the faint little scars across his fingers. Bruce listened to the soft breathing. After a few quiet beats Jason spoke again.

“I hated you so much when I heard all that. I really wanted to kill you for a while. Thought maybe it would make me feel a little better.”

Bruce swallowed. “Why didn’t you.”

“I’m not exactly fighting fit anymore…and I figured there was a far better way to make you miserable.”

“The trial?”

Jason nodded. “The trial.”

“You’ve done an impressive job.”

Jason’s eyebrows went up at the sudden compliment.

“I’m serious. You covered all your bases. Found a way to go around every single legal failsafe I have in place. Got around Gordon, me and the system. You made sure all the pieces fit what you want. You even got a judge that is known for being fair and just so that no one argues over his decisions didn’t you?”

Still a bit stunned Jason nodded.

Bruce nodded as well.“ It’s an excellent job.”

Looking away from the sudden warm tone Jason replied a bit more quietly. “I don’t care what you think. Just remember to kiss Barbara and Alfie’s feet when it’s all over. If it weren’t for them I’d have told everyone exactly what happened.”

The detective side of Bruce’s brain filed the information away for later.

“You don’t want them hurt.”

“They have nothing to do with it. I’m going to make sure the Joker dies by this city’s own choice.”

“You’ve set everything up Jason. It’s not by their choice, it’s by yours.”

“And it should have been yours years ago. “

“You wish I became a murderer?”

“Like I said. I was naïve. I thought you were my dad. I was lying in my own blood, every breath hurt like nothing I ever felt. I knew I was dying. And not for one second did I blame you B. I did get myself killed that day. Funny things cross your mind when you’re dying though. Wanna know what crossed mine?”

Bruce stayed still and Jason kept going, starting to tap against the glass again.

“I thought. ‘At least he’ll never hurt anyone again.’ I thought ‘My dad will make him pay and it’ll finally be over.’ I thought you’d kill him because he took me away from you. I thought I was enough.”

The tapping slowed to the softest whisper.

“I thought I was enough.”

__________________________________________

This is Vicky Vale with the evening report.

A turbulent day today as Jason Todd rose from the dead in front of all of Gotham to see. His testimony sent Gotham into yet another tail spin, confirming the Joker’s involvement and turning the case in the favor of the prosecution. However, to everyone’s surprise the defense seemed to change its tactic of doing nothing at the last second with an interesting choice of witness. Further surprising the public was Bruce Wayne’s willing involvement in the defense. He offered to call upon Batman himself in order to see the trial prolonged. Here is a recap of the reactions our camera’s caught today.

‘I’m beyond stunned honestly. What’s even happening anymore. I swear I’ve watched soap operas with less unbelievable twists.’

‘Is this live? H*** yeah I have something to say, turn that camera here! What the actual f*** Wayne! Sit your rich boy a** down and let ‘em fry the clown. Da f*** is he talking about, ‘tarnishing the sanctity of this trial’. This ain’t a business brunch man. Man legit just up and stood up for the Joker. What the f***?’

 ‘If they get Batman to actually come to trial I’ll eat my socks. No way. This is just stalling for no reason if you ask me.’

‘Umm, I don’t know if he’ll see this but I just want Jason to know we at the Joker Victims United association fully support his cause and offer all of our support. We encourage him and all others who need help to come to our center. We’re stronger together.’

‘Can someone tell me what drugs Wayne is on, cause I need some of that. Man was spaced out half of the trial and then he thinks Batman’s gonna come to the stand. He has to be high.’

‘I can’t believe we even need a trial honestly.’

‘What’s Batman even gonna do? I thought they already proved he did it? Am I missing something?’

‘Get him Mister Prosecutor! We’re rooting for all of ya!’

‘If this actually gets the Joker killed the Mayor better give Jason a medal or something. Kid went through h***.’

‘God, I feel so bad for all of the Waynes. All of them looked so awful during all of it. I thought Richard was going to faint for a minute there. And Bruce. That’s his own son on stand. I can’t believe people expect him to just see that and be okay. People can be so cruel.’

‘The trial was already bat shi* insane so why not get Batman in there too. Best television I’ve seen in years.’

__________________________________________

“I can’t kill. And I can’t let you kill him either.”

Jason’s entire body went ridged.

“Why.”

“Because I made a vow. I never cross the line. If I don’t…It’ll destroy me.”

“Not for anything? Anyone? Even your son?”

Bruce stayed silent.

“You’re weak Bruce. That, and it was me. If it had been Dick, or if it happens to Tim- you’d see how easy it really is. ”

“It’s too easy. That’s why it terrifies me. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of ending his pathetic existence Jay. I’ve wanted to pay him back for what he’d done to you a million times over. But- I’d stop being myself if I did that Jay. ”

“Then goddamn sit down and let somehow how can handle it finish the job! Why did you stand up in court today Bruce? Why did you say you’d testify?”

“Because I can’t let you kill him either.”

“WHY.”

“He is insane Jason. I turned him insane when he fell into that acid. He can’t answer for his actions, society agreed under law that people like that are to be secured and treated. It’s what’s right. I can’t treat everyone under that law and make an exception for him.”

Jason stared at him with wide eyes.

“You feel guilty. Oh my God. This entire time…you’ve felt guilt for him falling into that acid. Your fucking martyr complex is stopping you from doing the one thing everyone actually needs of a protector. “ Jason slumped into his chair with the realization. “Wow.”

“It’s not guilt. It’s human decency to understand and find ways to deal with members of society that cause problems. All life matters Jason, equally. We cannot punish someone for being sick. It’s beyond his control.”

Jason looked at him, still slightly stunned.

“He’s not insane. He just is a monster. He choses to kill people every time, and he understands perfectly what the consequences are.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Oh I know. I saw it in his eyes when he told me we wouldn’t be seeing each other again. “

“…”

“For fucks sake Bruce. Even if you don’t believe me I didn’t pay the doctor off. Everything he said was his own words. He thinks the Joker is sane too.”

“The first psychologists that tested him all concluded he was fully insane. Your theory of him learning the patterns of the tests doesn’t hold up if it was the very first tests.”

“So he got lucky on the first few tries! Or maybe he got better with time. Who the fuck knows, it shouldn’t even matter. He’s a menace to society. What more do you want.”

“We can’t become a better society if we just give up on those who need help and guidance the most. Killing is something the justice system needs to completely erase if we have any hope of making an environment where people do things not out of fear but out of willingness to have a better tomorrow. Dying is easy. Living pushes us to be better. ”

“That’s your opinion. Not mine. Not theirs. You don’t have the right to curse us with that damn clown just because of your opinion.”

“Aren’t you doing the same by rigging the trial to be in your favor?”

Jason didn’t follow that up. He stared at Bruce for a long while, searching for something. A final look of resignation crosses his face and he stands up, heading towards the door to the hotel room.

“I won’t stop you from testifying. There’s nothing you can do now that will save him anyway.”

“You’re that convinced the jury will take you side?”

“We’ve proven everything. There’s nothing left to dispute. You’re going to lose and Gotham’s gonna finally see there is a way to deal with monsters that doesn’t involve waiting for a man in a batsuit.” Jason stopped with his hand on the handle.

“It has to be unanimous you know.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at his mentor. “Yeah, I saw. Death penalties are only given by unanimous vote. Your point?”

“Never go into a fight-“

“Convinced you’ll win. That’s was your first lesson.”

And for some reason the words got Bruce to smile at Jason a little. “Yes. Things are never insured. “

Bruce pulled his cowl up and walked over to the balcony when Jason called out again.

“If I asked you to not testify, would you do it?”

Bruce turned to look at him over his shoulder. “If I asked you the same?”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed and he grinned a bit at his mentor. “Fair enough.”

But Bruce had one last question before he left.

“Jay. What happened to your eyes?”

The teen blinked at him with a bit of surprise at the sudden question, before snorting.

“Figures you’d notice. Tals got the best on the market but nothing’s ever perfect you know.”

Jason reached towards his eye and gently removed a piece of blue tinted glass, a contact. Without it Jason’s eye was a familiar bright green that twisted Bruce’s stomach.

“Oh Jay. What did they do to you.”

A laugh escaped Jason and he popped the contact back in.

“The same thing you did. They tried to fix me. It didn’t work.”

Chapter Text

Tim hadn’t said a word to Dick since they started patrol.

That isn’t to say he was being uncooperative. He was staying completely in step with Nightwing, making sure to follow Dick’s directions perfectly and precisely. Every single hit he had landed was exactly timed, with the correct force and procedure. The getaways were all clean and they worked in such sync words didn’t seem all that necessary.

Working with Tim like this had the same satisfaction of performing in front of a dead crowd.

At first Dick imagined it to be because of their earlier spat in the car, but the deeper they fly into Gotham the more Dick sees it’s actually hyper fixation. Tim is putting all of his being into their work, in a way that reminds Dick of Bruce.

He’s being a perfect Robin. If being Robin meant being a mini Batman.

Dick leapt over to the next roof with a scowl. This wouldn’t do. There’s only so many members of a family that can be allergic to emotions and their numbers were firmly filled. Dick promised himself Tim wouldn’t learn to bottle things up. And right now Tim was running from something inside his head by shutting everything other than Robin out.

It wouldn’t do at all.

Mapping out their location Dick was annoyed to realize the closest working coffee shop was thirty minutes away, while the closest ice cream parlor around an hour and fifteen minutes. They were also off patrol route.  Well, there goes plan A.

Now Dick needed a plan B. He considered tugging at Robin’s cape and screaming tag, but the way Tim’s acting he’d probably just get ignored.

The fact sent a pang of wistfulness through Dick’s chest. Jason never turned down a chance to show Dick up at anything. It had been annoying at first. Dick saw the challenges as Jason trying to embarrass or belittle his predecessor. It took far too long to see it for what it was.

A little brother asking for attention. A kid trying to feel special.

For a second he wondered if Jason still wanted to play poker with him and Barbara after all these years before shutting the thought down.

DNA first Grayson. Don’t go flying into wistful dreams without a safety net.

His little nostalgic trip did give him a plan C though.

Dick thrust out his hand and quickly pointed right with two fingers which Tim of course interpreted perfectly, making the sharp turn without even a question as to the sudden detour in patrol.

---------------------------------------

“Oracle, come in.”

“Oracle here.”

“I need you to order some take out for me.”

“What?”

---------------------------------------

Barbara was bathed in the light of her monitors when the two vigilantes entered her domain.

“Hello boy wonders. I wasn’t expecting an in-person call tonight.”

“Who could say no to visiting the most beautiful hacker humanity has ever known?”

“Says the man whom I haven’t seen in a month.”

Dick cringed. “It’s been a rough month.”

Barbara sighed and turned her chair around, giving the two her full attention. It also gave them a pretty clear view that the month had been rough on her too.

Her skin seemed paler than usual, the eye bags more pronounced. A red blanket was spread across her legs telling them both she probably hadn’t moved from the monitors in hours.

“I suppose I can give you a pass this time. Your excuse is rather solid. But I won’t accept ‘dead little brother returned from the dead and caused Gotham to go into a frenzy by suing a lunatic’ twice Dick.”

It’s funny how Dick hadn’t even been thinking about Barbara being angry with him, and yet hearing her say it’s alright made something in his chest loosen up enough to give his Batgirl a warm smile.

“I really hope there won’t be a repeat, trust me.”

She returned the smile with a smirk before once again going serious.

“Your package will be here in five. Don’t worry about the delivery, I’ll make sure it’s untraceable.”

“Perfect.”

The conversation obviously intrigued Tim, little detective that he is, and Dick almost rubbed his hands together in that evil scheming pose all the villains liked doing. But he didn’t of course. Because he had some class thank you.

“Robin, I need you to go remove your mask and put a civilian hoodie on. A delivery is going to be made here. Go downstairs, retrieve the package and come back asap. Clear?”

Tim nodded and didn’t waste even a second before reaching for his mask release, grabbing one of the spare hoodies Babs kept around and disappearing into the Watchtower elevator.  Only when then did Dick let his shoulders sag.

Barbara was still glancing at where Tim disappeared.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. He didn’t even ask.”

“I know right? He’s been like that all night. Like a little Robin Robot. A Rob-bot if you will.”

“I most certainly will not, but at least you tried boy wonder. Any guesses as to why?”

“I’m not sure. At first I thought it was cause we had an argument in the car but this seems different.”

She hummed, her attention now split between Dick and her monitors. “What was the fight about?”

Dick grimaced a bit. “Tim decided my opinion on Jason had no merit since I didn’t really know him. I raised my voice on accident. That was it.”

“You got angry he said you didn’t know Jason well enough to judge? Just that?”

“When you put it like that I sound petty.”

“Well, truth does have a nasty habit of not being pretty.”

Dick groaned. “You too?”

She gave him a side glance. “What, you want me to lie Dick? I can count the times you two met in person on my fingers. “

“We were doing better Babs! You of all people know -“

“Yes, and I of all people know all your plans were firmly shut down before any of them even really happened.”

Dick clenched his jaw at the statement. Babs continued, a little bit softer.

“I know you wanted to make things better. But the truth is, it didn’t get the chance to actually happen. You can’t look at this case with rose tinted glasses Dick. It will just hurt you in the long run.”

The silence that followed went on until a slightly peeved Tim Drake walked out of the elevator, three pizzas and a coffee cup in hand.

He set the stuff down and immediately glared at Nightwing.

“Why did you order pizzas in the middle of patrol Dick?”

“Umm. I’m supporting the pizza economy of Gotham?”

Unimpressed, Tim reached back down for his mask only to find it missing.

“Nope. Sorry Timmy but we’re taking a break to visit our dear Oracle. Big brother orders.”

 The elevator door behind them shut down, as the windows around them audibly locked down.

“Aw, my finger slipped. I accidentally locked you guys in for a little bit. Silly me.”

Tim glared daggers at the both of them. It didn’t really affect them.

“I could tell Batman what you’re doing right now.”

“And risk interrupting his mission?”

That got Robin to twitch.

“He won’t like this one bit. What about the city?”

“Let me handle the big guy. Babs has her birds in the sky, Gotham will  be okay for an hour.”

Tim pressed his lips together.

After a few seconds of calculating silence he sighed and threw himself onto Barbara’s couch, finally letting go of the mission mode he had put himself in.

“Please tell me you didn’t forget the mushrooms.”

----------------------------------------------

Two pizzas and one bribery coffee later Dick finally felt relaxed enough to ask.

“Okay Tim, time to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“What’s with the Batman impersonation. You’ve been moody all night.”

Both of Tim’s eyebrows went up.

“I haven’t been moody.”

“You haven’t said a word to me all night.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not wrong but-“

Tim snapped back “Then what’s the problem? I’m just doing my job.”

“You’re trying to bury something and I won’t let you. You’re so good at it too, I can’t tell if you’re angry, or sad, or scared. I need you to tell me Tim, please.”

Tim huffed and looked away.

“I’m fine. Just- a lot on my mind I guess. Can you blame me?”

Dick sighed. “No. But talking about it is so much easier than just keeping it to yourself. Let me into that big brain of yours? Please?”

“I’m fine Dick. Stop asking.”

Sensing the wall he hit, Dick turned towards Barbara and the two engaged in a silent conversation. They both agreed a different approach was necessary. Dick started then.

“Hey Babs? What’s your take on everything?”

“On Jason you mean?” She adjusted her glasses, picking her words carefully.

“I’ve run more algorithms than I can count. I’ve gone over around 26 facial recognition programs. And every single result just confuses me further.”

Dick raised his eyebrow at the unexpected answer. She kept going. “Some things are a complete match. His voice for example, his speech pattern. But the inconsistencies worry me. “

Tim jumped in. “The sudden mood switches?”

She shook her head no. “His facial structure for example. It’s just slightly off from what it should be. To the blind eye, it seems to fit his younger self, but most of my programs agree that Jason’s malnutrition would have had a more visible effect on his face. And yet, it’s not there. “

“When you say most, how many?”

“65 percent of them. The others simply state it’s a complete match.”

Tim nodded, his eyes clearer now that he had something precise to think about.

“But the thing that worries me the most is the eye color. It’s a shade off according to all the programs.”

Tim’s face lit up for a second. “So it’s an imposter!”

Barbara didn’t immediately answer, her fingernails tapping against the table they had all gathered around. Her eyes wandered to the image of Jason on one of her far screens.

 “The math says yes I suppose.”

The relief that overcame Tim was noticeable. Dick finally had a lead.

“That’s…good news?”

“Good news? That’s great news! That means we can put a stop to all this so much easier. Once we tell Bruce he won’t hold back even a second for any of this.”

Barbara added from her side, in a casual tone “It’s true. If it isn’t Jason the trial will just fall apart. “

“Exactly! We just prove it and we’ll be back to normal by next week. We need to call Bruce.”

“What do you mean normal Timmy?”

Tim looked to Dick, a furrowed brow on the teens face. “Uhm, normal? Like usual? The status quo? Batman, Nightwing and Robin by night, ordinary civilians by day?”

“And if it is Jason? We won’t be that anymore?”

 Tim glanced down to his phone to break the eye contact.

“Of course not. Well, I guess for you it will stay the same.”

“Is that why you’re so quiet? You’re scared of losing Robin?”

Tim shrugged. “Not really. I just thought-Well, if these are my final nights on the job I wanted to make them perfect.” Tim’s voice went quiet. “If I have to give the suit back then at least it will have a good job in its wake.”

Barbara and Dick glanced at each other, a mix of pity and endearment exchanged. Dick slid from his side of the couch to Tim’s and put an arm around his little brother’s shoulders.

“Tim, I need you to listen to me ok?”

Tim nodded, but his eyes were still on the phone.

“Tim. Look at me please.”

The teen finally did, a strange defensive look about him.

“It doesn’t matter if this Jason is real or not. When it comes to your place as Robin, your place in this family, there is no one that can take that from you. “

“ It’s his suit Dick. I’m just temporary remember?”

Dick laughed a bit and leaned his head onto Tim’s messy hair. ”Kid, you stopped being temporary two years ago. Sorry to say it, but you’re stuck with us Timmy. Even a dead family member coming to life isn’t enough to unstick you from us.”

Tim hunched his shoulders a bit, but he did lean into the semi-hug. “But what if-“

“Nope. No way. Little brothers are for forever, no renouncing the title.”

“I don’t remember that in the adoption papers.”

“Then you didn’t read it closely enough. It’s right there in the footnote, invisible ink and all.”

That finally got Tim to smile just a little bit. “You sure? That means you’re stuck with me too.”

Dick squeezed Tim to him tighter. “I got the better end of the deal then.”

----------------------------------

Thirty minutes later all evidence of the mid-patrol pizza break was cleaned. Tim went up to the roof to wait for Nightwing while Dick hung back for a few minutes, just him, Barbara and the soft clicking of her keyboard.

“Thanks for this Babs. I needed somewhere close he could be himself for a few minutes. “

She nodded. “I noticed. You did good.”

“Yeah? I think he still needs convincing, but probably from Bruce not me.”

“You think the planets are aligned enough for that?”

Dick shrugged. “Well, it does look like the month for miracles. Who knows. Maybe we’ll come to the manor and Bruce tells us both how proud of our work he is and gives us each hugs and new bikes.”

Barbara hummed, a smile in her voice but she didn’t add onto anything. Instead she let the silence carry the moment for a little bit. Dick took the silence as dismissal and turned to leave, but was stopped in front of the door.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Dick turned around to find Barbara staring at Jason’s image again.

“That little brother privileges are for forever. Did you mean it?”

He shifted a bit from foot to foot, aware she was asking a far different question.

“You know I did Babs.”

“So if the programs are wrong. If it really is Jason-“

“We’ll bring him home. Even if we have to tear him from Talia’s sharpened fingernails.”

Barbara turned to face him fully, one side of her face lit up by the nearby monitors.

“You know that isn’t what I’m asking.”

He swallowed. She stared. He stayed silent. She waited.

“We don’t kill Babs. No matter the method.”

“If that really is Jason, then everything he’s done is beyond justified. Everything is at least to some degree done within the law. This is the first time Dick, the first time anyone has ever legally gotten the Joker to face a penalty. Are you really going to stop your little brother from judging the man who ruined his life?”

Dick couldn’t help but glance at Barbara’s chair. “You didn’t. He took from you too but you didn’t let the revenge swallow you. We can’t let it take him either.”

“I couldn’t have gotten this trial to happen. Legally, I couldn’t do anything to him. Look at all the connections Jason had to pull to even get a hearing. No. My revenge would have been far less civilized Grayson.”

“He’s doing it to get him killed! Our code itself is that death isn’t an acceptable punishment, no matter what. Even if it is legally.”

“Our code? We work within the law Dick. And besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but that isn’t Robin up on the stand. That’s a civilian. And they have no codes besides the law. “

“He’s bending the law to his will.”

“Says the vigilante. We’re outright breaking it every night. If both are for a good cause then which is more justified?”

Dick clenched his jaw. Babs waited for an answer that didn’t seem to come. After tense seconds of silence she found her hand curled in her red blanket.

“…Do you know he gave me this?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrowed, realizing she meant the blanket. “No. You never said.”

She nodded, glasses obscuring a soft look on her eyes. “Mhmm. I rarely use it. I didn’t want it getting dirty.” Her hands brushed over the soft fabric slowly.

“I think it was my third week in the hospital. I was feeling all around miserable. I didn’t want to see anyone, but people just kept coming by constantly. All of them asking how I was, checking in, bringing gifts and get well soon cards. I really wanted to yell at all of them to get out but they were just concerned. I couldn’t.

Jay somehow figured it out though. He just-showed up one day. Alone. Gave me this blanket, pulled up a chair and sat there, reading some book he brought.

Someone knocked on the door twenty minutes later and he, honest to God, yelled at them to “go away! She’s busy testing her new blanket!”. It was the most random thing. I don’t even know why, but it made me laugh. And he kept saying it. The entire day, he didn’t let a single visitor through. “

She picked at the single lose thread her finger found. “Dad yelled at him when he came round. I threw the book Jay brought at Dad’s head. He got the message and left for the day.” She finished continued in an almost whisper. “And you know what Jay said to me Dick?

He said ‘Robins and Batgirls always have each other’s backs.’”

 Barbara brought her head up and met Dick’s gaze directly.

“He might not be Jason. But if that really is my Robin facing against the Joker Dick, I need you to understand exactly where I stand on this. Because I won’t help you stop this trial. Not for anything.”

---------------------------------------

Hours later, difficult words hung over all of the family member’s heads as they stood around the batcomputer. A single elegant tea cup stood in the lab, its contents thoroughly analyzed.

Now they were just staring at the result, wondering what exactly this means for all of them.

There is no procedure. There is no contingency. Just a vague feeling of right, wrong and unknown.

The DNA was a match. 99 percent, with the slightest addition of Lazarus to explain away all of Barbara’s issues.

Jason, their Jason, had come back to life. But instead of drowning in joy as sweet and sappy as honey, they find themselves walking a tightrope of their own making. Below them an abyss, haunting regrets, angry souls, claws of judgment and future wounds.

The rope held up by their own choices. All of Gotham watching the act. Jason and the Joker standing on opposite ends.

And no safety net to be found.

-----------------------------------------

A few days later Tim found himself in a local dinner drinking coffee darker than Bruce’s cape. He kept his eyes on the door like a hawk and made sure to look completely uninterested when his target walked in through the door, the little bell above the door ringing softly.

Jason walked passed Tim without even a glance and sat in a booth on the far side of the shop.  

Tim let the waitress take his order before standing up and, coffee in hand, sliding into Jason’s booth. He removed his sunglasses and folded them onto his pocket.

The older teen had a cigar in his mouth and a completely ice cold gaze settled on Tim. Tim spoke first.

“Drop the case.”

Jason didn’t even blink. The only thing moving was the ash gathering at the tip of the cigar, and the smoke lightly flowing up.

“If you pull back your testimony the case falls apart easy. We tell everyone Talia forced you into it to tarnish Bruce’s image, we’ll do the clean up afterward. Whatever it is the Al Ghuls have on you, we can help. Just drop the case first.”

Jason did blink this time. Tim chewed on his cheek, nerves suddenly flaring up.

“Seriously. No hard feeling even. Bruce hasn’t been himself since we got your DNA. He’ll do anything to have you back home. Dick hasn’t stopped redecorating your room. It’s starting to look like a bomb went of- bad choice of words. He’s made a mess. Says he wants it more welcoming, whatever that means. So just-“ Tim waved his hand. “End this now before it gets ugly.”

Finally, movement. Jay leaned on the table and placed his head on his palm staring at Tim. He looked at Tim like a giant looks at an ant. That flared Tim’s anger up a bit. Why wasn’t he talking?

“Are you even listening? I’m telling you they miss you. They want you to come ho-“

Jason plucked the cigar out of his mouth and tapped away the ashes straight into Tim’s coffee. He then blew the smoke in Tim’s general direction before finally speaking.

“Do you have a death wish, or is Bruce this desperate?”

 It was Tim’s turn to blink, the smoke stinging his eyes badly. “Neither.”

“Yeah no. Ya see, where I’m from, when a guy goes to his enemy for a chat it always ends with someone getting shanked. And honestly” Jason looked Tim up and down, “it ain’t gonna be me. So get lost kid. Looking at you really pisses me off.”

Tim squared his shoulders, not budging an inch. “No. All of this is pointless. Bruce is going to stop the trial and things are just going to get ugly for no reason. We can help you!”

“Help me…get away from Talia?”

Tim nodded enthusiastically. “We know about the pit. We can find a way to help you control it, maybe even erase it with time! “

Jason chuckled and took another drag of his cigar.

“Oh, this is rich. You want to save me, from big bad Talia?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me something replacement.” The name caught Tim off guard, the vitriol behind it even more. “How did you find me here?”

A single bead of sweat went down Tim’s neck. “You’ve come here every day since appearing on stand. You change the time you come in depending on what day it is. The cameras never catch you but the waitress posted to her profile she saw you come in. I’ve been watching the feed. Whenever it starts to loop I know you came in.”

Jason blew out the cigar smoke upwards, one eye still on Tim. “You’re the one that made the news feed bots aren’t you? Talia did say you were a tech whiz.”

Tim kept a straight face and denied showing that the sudden compliment made him feel just the slightest hint of warmth. Instead, he clenched his jaw and tried looking apologetic.

“I did. Bruce never did make you a complete cover like he did with Brucie, or Richie. I had to rely on people’s stereotypes. For what it’s worth it, I’m sorry I had to spread the lies.”

“Anything for the greater cause huh?”

“It was a contingency. Was I supposed to just let you ruin all our lives?” Tim shook his head. “And it doesn’t matter. None of it is that bad, I can undo the damage in a month. Just accept out help. I promise, we’ll fix everything.”

Jason went quiet again, staring at Tim with a different sort of gaze. This one was darker. Angrier. Harsher.

In a blink Jason reached over the table and pulled Tim closer by his shirt collar, knocking the coffee over and spilling the hot liquid everywhere. Tim hissed as it hit his hand. Jason openly snarled into his face.

“Look here replacement. I don’t want your help. I don’t want anything from you. All you are is the world’s most successful grave robber. You didn’t even have to reach my casket to take away everything valuable I ever had.“ Jason harshly shoved Tim back into his seat. “Just like mommy and daddy. Taking things from the dirt without ever getting you rich boy hands dirty.”

Jason stood up, not looking away for a second.

“You want to help someone? Help yourself. Learn some fucking self-preservation. Get the hell away from Bruce, and stay the hell away from me. Because I’m being the nicest I can possibly be right now. You don’t want to see me get nasty.”

With that Jason left the shop, the little bell above the door ringing as he left.

Chapter Text

Marbles were funny little things.

They’re really simple, and yet both children and adults can get lost in them for hours. Watching them clash against each other with a loud click, listening to the steady roll of glass against wood, feeling the smooth surface between your fingers.

Marbles have a sort of simple magic to them. But the part Dick loved most was the way they bent light.

No two marbles gave the same pattern. The glass color, the angle, the material itself. All of it resulted in unique splashes of light that danced around the sphere as it moved. It was mesmerizing.

Dick hadn’t played with actual marbles in ages. He hadn’t even known there were any left in the manor. So, when he saw so many of them hidden away in a tin box in Jason’s room, Dick got curious. Did Jay collect them? Play with them? Why have so many then? And no two were exactly the same either.

Such a random thing, but it rolled around in Dick’s head like the marble did around his finger.

Dick didn’t know.

Dick didn’t know if Jay collected marbles. Or that he apparently liked keeping silverware in his room for a safety deposit. Or that he preferred classic literature to modern. He had known the kid was an avid reader, but not why. How does a street kid learn to love 18th century classics? Why such a random fascination? Did his friends tease him about it-did Jay have any friends before coming to the manor?  What were they like? Did Jay see them after Bruce adopted him?

Dick flicks his finger and the light blue marble he had been dancing around his finger shoots out and clashes into a red one, which pushed yellow and then green further along.

Dick hadn’t known Jason tried hard to quit smoking. He realized that because of all the nicotine patches he found. He hadn’t known Jason gave Barbara a blanket when she needed someone to cover her the most. He learned that when Barbara asked Dick exactly what Dick was afraid to ask himself. He hadn’t known Jason kept all his mementos in a painfully small box. He figured that out when he opened it and found trinkets. A yearbook photo of Catherin. A pair of lug nuts. Two used tickets to a Knights game. A smudged recipe card. A library card.

Dick’s phone number scribbled on a piece of paper.

The green marble kept rolling until it reached the edge of the table and then plummeted onto the carpeted floor beneath.

Marbles were a pure form of cause and effect. By pushing one you may cause a chain reaction of motion affecting far more than you originally intended even. 

Dick had just wanted to clean Jason’s room up.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Mister Fell, otherwise known as Henry Fell, is a man five seconds away from turning his newly received law degree into ash and disappearing into the woods for the rest of his life. He fully believes the squirrels would accept him as one of their own if he shows adequate acorn gathering skills.

Really, he lived in Gotham. His plan would probably work.

However, he had never really been one for nature. Sleeping in dirt just didn’t appeal to him.

Which once again left the man sighing from his windowsill in disappointment. Not even the gorgeous rose bushes their gardener meticulously raised could lift his spirits.

How unlucky could a guy be. First solo case ever, and he gets to defend the Joker of all people. On a death penalty.

Sure, at first he was ecstatic. Simply plead guilty, let the insanity plea roll and collect his fees. Easy, puts a notch on his belt and he gets to tell his buddies from college he met the world’s most known crazy. His old college professor did say he was only good for pointless cases anyway, so who was he to turn down a sweet deal.

And then that Wayne brat got involved and Henry suddenly had to defend a psychopath.

The one Gotham hated more than the plague.

Not. A. Good. Look.

But, even worse was Henry’s own stupidity, cowering to his father’s wishes.

‘Henry, are you a man of your word or a mouse with no spine!? You will not drop this case and let people think Fell men are cowards!’

Father neglected to mention how he was using the exposure to sell his recently published books on crime and punishment. Henry inferred it anyway.

So, Henry said fine. He grit his teeth, he straightened his spine and he let the prosecution do whatever they wanted. Father said to not drop the case, so Henry would lose it wholeheartedly.

He just prayed the clown wouldn’t live long enough to pay him for his services.

Luckily, the Bait guy was doing exactly what everyone wanted. His case was well made, the audience was properly wound up and Fell felt like a death penalty was probably secured.

And then.

And then, and then and then.

Then Fell’s bloody phone had to chime. And Fell just had to open it and see page upon page of tax records. His family tax records. All scribbled over, red pen highlighting some numbers that didn’t quite fit.

Underneath them the simple instruction: “Call Batman as a witness.”

It turns out father also neglected to mention he had been heavily editing his tax returns.

Henry really wants to give that whole squirrel plan a shot.

But alas, for now this is where life has led him. Sitting in a room with Batman scaring the bones out of him by suddenly appearing at his window.

--------------------------------------------------------

A little bird call interrupted Dick’s game of marbles.

His phone notification bell. The one that Barbara programmed the phones to use if she sent over something important for their day lives.

By the time Dick turned on his screen it dinged three more times. All with more or less the same story on different sites.

‘DRAMATIC WAYNE CONFRONTATION IN DINER! NO LOVE LOST BETWEEN NEW BROTHERS?’

Dick sucked air in though his clenched teeth. Not good.

Tim wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near Jason. They had all agreed to wait, the night the DNA came in. To figure out what the next move was.

So what the hell was Tim doing popping up in the Gotham Star?!

For all the promotion, the actual article was ten percent info and 90 percent rumors. Apparently, someone leaked the CCTV footage, though the audio wasn’t clear because they were too far away.

Tim approached first. Confident in his steps. Jason completely froze his body when Tim sat down. He let Tim talk about something, too quick to lip read. Jason refused to react, which annoyed Tim. Then, and only then, did Jason move, a sort of faux apathy rolling off of him in waves.

Dick only knew it was fake because he’d seen it before. Talia liked doing it, letting her enemies think she’s calm seconds before cutting their throats. A viper in plain sight.

Jason’s method isn’t as well refined as hers, since the way he purposefully sent cigar smoke in Tim’s eyes screamed petty pleasure.

The way he pulled Tim over the table screamed something worse though.

Tim hissed in pain as the coffee went everywhere. Pissed off as Jason was, he raised his voice enough for the phone mic to capture the words Jason spat out.

The word ‘replacement’ made Dick grip the phone harder. The ‘grave robber’ part made Dick wish he could somehow magically separate the two though the phone. When Jason said Tim had taken everything valuable Jason had ever had he really really wished he could reach over and give him a hug. When he threw the ‘mommy and daddy’ comment at Tim, clearly knowing it would hurt the younger, Dick wanted to wrap Tim up in a blanket until Jay cooled off.

The parting line about self-preservation was equal parts advice and threat and Dick really didn’t want to think about the Bruce part. Or what it said about Jason’s opinion on coming home.

Unlike him, Gotham was going wild in the comments. There was an endless list of speculations, theories, opinions. Currently, the most popular one was that Tim was trying to bribe Jason into rescinding his testimony with everything ranging from Wayne stock to skateboard trophies.

The amount of people supporting Jason for yelling into his baby brother’s face was staggering.

Just as he was about to call him, Tim rushed past the open room door.

Leaving the room three times messier than when he had found it, Dick followed the distressed bird.

Tim had run to his own room, that finally started looking like someone permanently lived in it, and dragged out his first aid kit. He started rushing through the burn treatment process when Dick showed up at his elbow, reaching for the supplies.

Tim pulled all of it away, snapping “I got it!”

Dick raised his hands in surrender, letting Tim do the job himself. Tim cleaned the wound and put cream on it like a man possessed. That left the bandage that wasn’t easy to do single handed. He ended up using his teeth to hold the other end. Fumbling with the knot made him extra frustrated though.

With a frustrated yell (or what counts as a yell in Tim standards) he slammed the lid of the first aid kit down, untied bandage falling off.

The younger then slumped onto his bed, hiding his face behind his hands.

Dick sat next to Tim, letting him calm his breathing. Slowly, he reached for Tim’s burned hand and smiled when Tim let it go without a fight. With fingertips barley brushing the skin he rewrapped the bandage, letting the silence go on as long as Tim needed. He also purposefully ignored the chime of his phone, but by the fifth time it went off Tim finally spoke.

“I fucked up huh.”

Dick snorted. “Wow Timmy, you spend one lunch with Jason and he already corrupted your squeaky clean language.”

The joke didn’t have its desired effect. Tim went back to worrying his lip.

With a sigh Dick threw his arm around Tim’s shoulder and squished the kid a bit.

“Yeah, a little bit. It’s not too bad though, nothing incriminating. Just really messy.” Dick paused, wondering what to address first. “He had no right to mention your parents Tim. I’m so sorry you had to hear that from him.”

“He has every right to hate me.”

“What?”

“He said that I took everything from him. That I stole everything he loved.” Tim made eye contact with Dick.

“I didn’t-I never wanted to hurt him Dick. But I did. I came in here, and I took his spot, and his suit, and if I hadn’t-if I had just stayed away for a little longer he would have come home. I could see it in his face when he dragged me close Dick. He really- he blames me. He’s hurt and he blames me and he’s right.”

Suddenly Dick realized all the anger Tim had been showing hadn’t been for Tim. It had been for Jason.

“That isn’t true Tim.”

“It is! You need to see his face he-“

“Jason may think it’s true but that doesn’t mean it is.”

“What does it matter. The result is the same.”

Dick shook his head. “Of course it matters Tim. Jason feeling betrayed by us doesn’t correlate into it really being your fault. Jason doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know you’re the only reason Bruce is still alive Tim. He’s-“, Dick tried to find the right word,” he’s projecting. Out of all of us, you have the least blame for it all but-we do stupid things when we’re angry. It’s easy to hate someone and blame them when you don’t know them. He’s using you to lash out all that and it’s not ok Timmy. I promise, you don’t deserve it.”

“…”

“Tim. “Dick sighed. “Why did you go to the diner at all?”

He hesitated for a bit before answering. “I had to try, see if- maybe all this was just a misunderstanding or if there was a reason that-“ Tim picked at his sleeve, eyes firmly down again. “I thought maybe he needed someone to tell him family is for forever like you did for me. “

“Oh…it didn’t turn out like you hoped huh?”

Tim shrugged. “This outcome was always I possibility. I just wanted it to go differently I guess.”

After a few more moments Tim spoke up again.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?”

“That you could have had your brother back years ago.”

Dick stared as Tim explained.

“You could have had him back. All those times you told me you wish you had done better, you could have had that. Alfred could have stopped mourning long ago, Bruce-It would have saved him. Better than I ever did. If I had just stayed away everything could have been perfect.”

“Oh Timmy.” Dick leaned his head against Tim’s and sighed heavily. “If I hadn’t been a jackass when Jay first got here maybe he would have called before he went to Ethiopia. Maybe he’d have been an actual Titan, with me on the space mission. If Bruce hadn’t let Jay leave, if Alfred had noticed sooner, if Barbara hadn’t been shot- it’s endless Tim. It’s a spiral that’s pointless and harmful.“

 Tim let his shoulder slump as he leaned into Dick’s hug a bit more. Dick continued quietly.

“Thinking about all the good that could have happened in imaginary scenarios is a dangerous thing when you forget to see all the good that did happen. I wouldn’t be in this manor if it weren’t for you Tim. Alfred wouldn’t have gotten his son back. Bruce would have destroyed himself. Steph would have faced her father alone. The Teen team wouldn’t be at all. “

Bruce used to rub circles into Dick’s arm when he got upset. Funny how he did the same to Tim without even realizing it.

“I hate that you joined the family because of a tragedy Tim. I hate that in reality, if Jason hadn’t died we probably never would have met. It’s not fair to even think of it as a tradeoff. If I want to imagine a life where Jason lived, I can’t wish for it without my heart breaking in two because it means losing you.

And that really sucks.”

Dick’s stared straight ahead, at the board Tim had started filling with photos. Photos of family, of friends, of all the trips he had taken since coming there. He never had a board like that with the Drakes.

“Wanna know a secret? I figured out years ago the only way to move passed some ugly truths was to accept them. They aren’t fair, they aren’t kind, but I can’t change reality to my whim. It’s true you’re here because Jason died. It’s probably true Jason didn’t come back because he felt replaced. And that hurts to think about.”

Dick swallowed before continuing. “But I don’t regret meeting you. I don’t regret training you, or watching movies with you, or sneaking you away to Blud for sleepovers. I don’t want to imagine a life where you aren’t my little brother Tim.

So I don’t. I don’t let the what-ifs in. I accept the fact losing Jason brought us you, and I chose to focus on the positive of the equation. It’s how I’ve always found the will to get up in the morning.

So take it from someone who does know you. I’m glad you’re here Timmy. I wouldn’t want it another way.”

Tim burrowed his face against Dick’s chest. The two stayed in silence for a long while after that.

------------------------------------

Batman stared at Henry from across the room.

Henry stared at Batman from the corner of the room he had pushed himself into.

The lawyer really wished he chose a larger room to sulk in. Father’s office was far too small to run away in.

Batman’s gravelly voice sounded like someone reached into hell itself and dragged the man out.

“Henry Fell. You called me to court. Why.”

Henry raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t eat me please. Someone made me! They threatened me.”

“Who.”

“Anonymous message. I have no idea I swear. You can see it on my phone.”

Batman’s eye lid things narrowed and he raised his arm out in silent order. Henry scrambled for his phone and pulled the message up before handing Batman the device.

After twenty staggeringly awkward seconds Batman returned the phone.

“Were you aware of the tax evasion?”

Fell shook his head no frantically.

“I see. Erase the messages. I’ll take care of things.“

Fell stared at Batman with wide eyes. “You’ll cover it up?”

 “No. I’ll just make sure you and your mother don’t end up homeless.”

Fears confirmed Fell swallowed roughly. He had been afraid of this ever since he read that message. If Father goes off to jail they’d take the house and everything else as payment. But…if Henry had time to prepare, he could probably squirrel away some money. Call in a few favors, warn some people in exchange for help.

Perhaps Fell would end up as a squirrel after all.

Father would end up in jail though. Tragic. On the bright side maybe his books will finally start selling. Who better to speak on crime and punishment than a convicted felon.

“You can do that?”

The black mass nodded and Henry could feel father’s disappointed stare miles away. Nothing new there either. Henry wiped the conversation from his phone and ran a shaky hand through his hair.

“Done. What about the case though?”

“You’ll call the judge tomorrow. Tell him I’ll be there when called to stand. I won’t reveal my identity but the commissioner can confirm it. Wayne, Joker as well, and Jason if asked.”

Fell chocked on air for a second. “Are you insane? No way the prosecution is going to stand for that.”

Batman narrowed those eye slit things again. Fell raised his hands again. “Alright, alright! Goodness, such aggression.”

“Keep the insanity plea going. You don’t have to do anything else Fell, just keep your head down.”

“Erm, mister Batman sir?”

“…”

“What about the Joker? What if he comes for me for not doing my job or something?”

“I don’t recommend staying in Gotham after this Fell. The Joker is the least of your worries once the citizens don’t get what they want. Or worse, the tax people.”

Well. Mother did always enjoy Keystone more.

------------------------------------

"Batman."

"Commissioner."

"I have a message from Arkham. A friend says he wants to speak to you."

------------------------------------

Arkham’s neon white lighting has been engraved into Bruce’s mind after so many years of nightly visits. It still hurts his eyes. On his left side the cells seem to go on endlessly, various eyes staring at him from the small slits on the doors. Isley. Zsasz. Quinn. Tetch. Jones.

"Batsy! Batsy over here!"

Laughter called him to the back cell.

“Batsy~ You came to see me!”

“I don’t do anything for you.”

“Au contraire mon frère! You’re single-handedly saving my poor defenseless soul from the fire! I always knew deep down you love me~”

“I save everyone. You don’t deserve it, but I save everyone.”

“Well. Almost everyone Batsy!” Joker laughed. “Little birdy didn’t quite get the honor. Though I have to give it to the kid! He came back from the dead to make this whole shindig happen. You have to admire the dedication!”

“He wants you dead. I’d be more afraid if I were you.”

“Afraid? Oh Batsy, why should I be afraid? Sure the kid’s a bit angry, he gets that from your side of the family you know, but he’s about as harmful as a popped balloon! All hot air and no real weight. And all. Thanks. To. You! The prickly porcupine to his fragile self.

So you see, I’m not afraid Batsy. You’re my hero after all. You’ll always save me. “

------------------------------------

Rushing down the hall it took all of Bruce’s strength not to turn around, slam open Joker’s door, disable the Clown’s legs and arms, smash his skull against the wall, snap his fingers, gauge his eyes, tare his vocal cords out-

He isn’t human. He’s a monster Bruce!-I want him dead.-Sit down and let someone who can handle it finish the job.-He took me away from you.-

But he had the strength so he didn’t. Instead he went to the cell he had come to visit in actuality.

"Harvey."

Harvey Dent’s two sides gazed at him from behind prison bars, both seemingly serious.

“You can’t let the kid win this case Batman.”

“What do you mean Harvey?”

“I mean exactly what I said. I’ve been following along you see, through the paper and what not. And I can tell you right now, if the kid wins there will be mayhem here.”

Bruce pressed his lips together, not quiet understanding Harvey’s angle. There was never any love lost between Twoface and Joker, so that couldn’t be it.

“I wasn’t going to. The trial is rigged in the prosecutions favor. Joker’s attorney is a incapable inexperienced college graduate, who folds under pressure like tinfoil. The jury is seventy percent made out of people the Joker has personally harmed in some way, shape or form. It goes against the point of a fair trial.”

Dent snorted, one face amused while the other grew angry. “Oh leave it off Batman. No trial is ever truly fifty fifty. If they were smart they'd just flip a coin like me. That's more fair than any trial has ever been. And like hell am I complaining about Joker getting a rigged trial, there isn’t a more miserable soul who deserves it. “

“So what’s your issue then?”

“My issue is precedents. This entire case is setting up for a precedent. If they find the Joker guilty despite his previous insanity plea, what do you think that does for the rest of us?”

Bruce followed Dent’s gaze towards the other cells, all filled with Gotham’s clinically insane.

“A lot of this very hallway falls under that precedent Batman. And if the guilty charge goes through-“ Dent dragged a line across half his neck.” This asylum is about to get a lot emptier.”

Bruce went silent, contemplating the info.

"I flipped a coin and called you down here Batman. I recommend you find a way to make sure this trial ends up right side up."

 ------------------------------------

 “Yo yo yo, this is your radio host Amy Z! Here to bring you all of Gotham’s latest whispers by frequency!  You have something to whisper to your fellow Gothamites? Then light our batsignal by sending it over! We’ll make sure everyone hears what you have to say!”

“I was on the Vicky Vale show and since my opinion offended the stuck up poodle known as Vicky Vale, it got cut. So, I’ll just say it here. Brucie Wayne should not be allowed within five feet of Jason Todd! Look at all the evidence, the man totally sold the kid or something! Rich bastards like him are five times out of six abusers. Why else would he willingly offer to call Batman to defend the Joker! This is all some crazy elite smuggling ring bullshit or something, I’m calling it right now.”

“Ya can’t get more Gotham than Timothy Drake pullin’ up to Jason like he’s some hot shit in his brand shoes and then getting’ thrown into his seat like a rag doll. God that was satisfyin’.”

“Hi guys! I’ll be selling ‘see me get nasty’ merch tomorrow in front of the Wayne building if any of you are interested! Shirts, bracelets and more!”

“What is wrong with the Waynes man? Is there a reason the youngest kid looks like a porcelain doll?”

“So, we’re killing the Joker right? Please please please tell me we’re killing the Joker. I’ll buy the popcorn and everything.”

“I’m sorry but does Wayne even care his kid is miraculously alive? If my mama saw me three years after something like that she’d hug the air out of me. Wayne looks like someone spilled his coffee on the new Ferrari. How about instead of helping the defense get a ‘fair trial’ you go and hug your damn kid!“

“If Wayne thinks Joker deserves a fair trial he can come with me to my mom’s grave and explain it to her. That sick monster didn’t ask about fair when he forced her to laugh to death.”

“I have never seen Gotham so united over something and of course it had to be over murder.”

“If anyone personally knows Mister Prosecutor can they tell him Alice makes a mean lasagna and that she’d love to show him over a date? Vicky can cut me from the air all she wants but nothing can stand in the way of true love!”

“My friend from Metropolise said, and I quote “Superman says killing is never the answer. Everyone is kinda terrified at how bloodthirsty you Gothamites are being.” And to my friend I’d like to say: Shut the fuck up Jerry. You’re biggest threat is if Lex Luthor raises the tax on coffee so he can pay for a new hair loss product. Fuck off. “

“Ok, I was lowkey proud of that Fell guy but what the hell man. Why the sudden Batman invite? Blink twice if you’re being held hostage or something.”

“I can see the parades now.”

------------------------------------

Making one last stop for the evening, Batman found himself in an abandoned movie theater close on the edges of crime alley. There, he stared at the ancient movie posters lining the walls, one name circled on all of them in markers. The other names all ripped out or scratched away.

The culprit stood on the middle of the stage, acting out one his own scenes from days long past.

"You insult me so! You insult me thusly! I cannot stand such-"

"Basil."

Basil, also known as Clayface, jumped into the air, his form now more human than clay.

"You! You've come to take me back to the freaks Batman? Well I won't allow it! I belong on stage, not behind bars!"

Bruce said nothing but he did raise his hands slowly.

"Actually Basil, I've come to offer you a deal."

Basil lowered the mud wave he had prepared to send at the bat, suspicious.

"I don't work for bad managers."

"How would you like an acting job?"

"...I'm listening."

-----------------------------------

When Bruce returned it was to the waiting figures of Dick and Tim. Though the two were geared to ask questions, Bruce asked the first.

“Tim. Do you wish to tell me why you used tax records to threaten the attorney into calling me to stand?”

Tim straightened his back. “I thought it would give us more of a chance. Your original idea of just showing up is good for shock value but this way they might actually listen to instead of staring in surprise.”

“You threatened him with tax records though? Really Timmy?”

Tim shrugged. “It was effective.”

Bruce sighed and stared at his protégées from his chair.

“I didn’t authorize it Tim. Pull something like this again and I’ll bench you.”

Tim nodded as if expecting the response.

“Is that where you were? At the attorney’s?”

“Yes Dick. I found Clayface. He agreed to help in exchange for a marathon of his movies being shown in theaters. Bruce Wayne will be sitting next to you in court and I’ll be on stand. Cover for any mistakes he makes.”

To Bruce’s surprise, Dick stayed silent. Not an agreement nor a disagreement or anything. The uncharacteristic response had Bruce staring at the elder son, who crossed his arms, the stiff position betraying his discomfort at something.

“Dick?”

“Barbara says she’s not helping us. She says she’s supporting Jay.”

Tim raised an eyebrow in surprise, while Bruce was less surprised and more annoyed at the loss of a useful ally for such a delicate case.

“She has the right to choose.” Bruce turned to the computer and put up safeguards against Oracle on the case files, locking her out.

“She said Jason deserves to win. And um. I know we don’t kill Bruce but. Now that we know it’s really Jason are you sure- really sure this is the right thing to do?”

Bruce stayed silent for a few second before turning to his eldest, grim expression clear.

“Murder is never the option. We have to be better than that. All this will cause is more bloodshed.”

“More how?”

“The case is the first of its kind. It’ll cause a precedent. If they find him guilty attorney’s will have an open door to argue the insanity plea shouldn’t hold for any of the Arkham inmates.”

Dick shifted from foot to foot, the idea sinking in. “You mean…it won’t stop with the Joker?”

“Probably not.”

Tapping his finger against his elbow Dick answered. “But-is it still right Bruce? As messed as some things are it’s still a public trial. It’s still the Joker and…I can’t help but feel like we shouldn’t be on the bench opposite Jason’s. None of these feels right.”

Bruce’s harsh face mellowed into something more contemplative, nodding to Dick’s sentiment.

“I know Dick. But I can’t let Jay become a murderer. I can’t let this city see death as a viable answer for our problems. I can’t let all those who truly need help fall under the same umbrella as the Joker. Protecting this city means protecting it from itself.” Bruce swallowed. “Even when everything in you screams doing the opposite.”

Dick stared at his mentor with open sorrow on his face for the choices Bruce is forcing himself to take. It’s a cruel case on all sides, not that many will see it on Bruce. But Dick knows that Jason was special to Bruce. Dick and Bruce were partners first, allies and later became true family. Bruce and Jason though…that had been a father and son from the beginning.

Dick always hated the jealousy that fact used to bring up.

They had a mission as vigilantes. To protect. So Dick understood in essence, the choice he should make was to agree with Bruce. Especially if it truly became a precedent.

But Barbara’s words still had a pull on his soul. He still can’t help but feel perhaps letting this play out wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

It would make Jason happy right? Would it be enough to bring him home? Tim wasn’t wrong earlier, when he said sometimes we need to be reminded we have family. Had Bruce reminded Jason of that when they talked?

Perhaps Bruce knew him far too well by this point, or it was just a thing dad’s could do but Bruce noticed Dick’s hesitation and didn’t berate him for it. Instead he pulled out a small device and threw it at Dick, not even really explaining.

It was a GPS with a single location showing on screen.

--------------------------------------------

“So, did he contact anyone? Big guy, he likes you sometimes, did he call?”

Clark sighed. “No. He sent an email actually.”

Arrow snorted. “Oh please tell me it starts with ‘to whom it may concern’”

“It starts with ‘Clark’ and ends with ‘tell Smith to brush up on the Justice League protocols. Be on standby.’”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“God, I talk to pets more than he talks to his team.”

“It is not a simple situation Green Arrow. Though, I must admit I do not understand Bruce’s motivations.”

“What do you mean Diana?”

“Well, how would going to the stand help his son get justice?”

The other leaguers stared at Diana.

“Er, princess. He isn’t going to help the kid, he wants to stop the death sentence from happening.”

Diana blinked in confusion. “Nonsense! He is the warrior of vengeance no? Is the clown not guilty?”

“Well he is but-“

“Is this not a legal trial by humankind’s standards?”

“Well yes. But Bruce doesn’t condone killing, you know this.”

More serious now, Diana raised an eyebrow. “The child is asking for an honorable trial. My sisters would have asked for a trial by combat in a case like this. If death is the result then it was earned no? That is why the penalty exists.”

Clark intervened trying to explain it better. “We’re working on abolishing the penalty in general. Many don’t agree with it. As heroes our job is to save lives, that’s what Bruce is trying to do,”

“I do not understand. Will more lives not be saved if the monster is slain?”

“Technically, the Joker is human you know.”

“Monsters often look the part yes. Many even start out that way. But this is an evil that refuses to stop. What part of the child’s wish is truly wrong?”

The others didn’t answer. They mostly averted their gaze, with Hawkwoman being the only one nodding along to Diana’s words openly.

Superman finally stood, facing his teammates.

“Personal stances on the trial aside, if our teammate asks for help in saving a life, we should respond. We have always stood for life, and this is no different. We must believe there is another way, even if it isn’t obvious at first. Can we agree on this?”

Absorbing the words, most of the leaguers nodded. Diana sighed, unhappy but nodding as well.

“I will follow the will of the team on this, but I still do not understand. How can Batman not hear the cry of his own people? A king that does not serve justice is a king that sits on a sand throne. All it would take is one strong wave for all to crumble.”

--------------------------------------------

Showing up at the front door in civies was not how Dick really thought this was going to go, but he doesn’t mind it too much. The waiting however, that’s killing him. The box in his hands feels like it weighs a ton even though it’s so minuscule it shouldn’t even register. Talia’s goons are all looking at him like a diagram that says ‘cut here! And here!’ and was the dramatic lighting really necessary?

After twenty minutes of awkward agony the door finally opened , a servant gesturing for Dick to come inside. Unlike the hallway of doom, the hotel apartment was actually rather pleasing.

Not so pleasing was Talia’s expression of clear disdain.

“Richard. What do you want.”

Giving as good as he received Dick let his own dislike of the woman show. “Absolutely nothing from you. I’m here to see Jason.”

“Why? Hasn’t everything been said already?”

“I want to see my brother Talia. If he doesn’t want to see me, he can tell me so himself. I really don’t believe he lets you be his mouthpiece.”

“I see you still think the world of yourself. From what I understand, Jason has no brothers. Feel free to leave.”

Dick suppressed his flinch at the direct statement. Instead he squared his shoulders.

“You understand wrong then. I want to talk to my brother. So either move out of the way or be moved.”

“It’s is adorable that you think you can-“

“It’s alright Tals.”

Jason came in from the room behind Talia’s back, walking up to them and placing a hand on her shoulder, something that was clearly meant to show familiarity.

This isn’t your territory Dick.

“I can handle him.”

The two exchanged a look and Talia nodded, leaving the room with one last glare at Dick.

That left Jason and Dick alone. A few feet and three years apart.

Now, Dick would like to believe his first words were smooth, intelligent and well thought out but in actuality they were a bit more reactionary to the sight of Jason so close in such a long time.

“I like your hair stripe thing. Very rebel of you.”

Jason raised his eyebrow and didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead he turned his head to the couch, gesturing they sit down. The elder couldn’t help but frown at Jason’s harsh limp, wondering if it hurt him.

The silence continued after they sat down.

Unsure of where to really start, Dick noticed Jason’s eyes on the package Dick held in his hands. Pulling out the content he first gave Jason the pie.

“A gift from Alfred. “

Apple of course, with a cherry on top. Pinned to the cover, a letter with Alfred’s swooping handwriting clear as day. Jay stared at the pie like it was foreign object. He carefully placed it on the table in front of him and rubbed the corner of the letter as if making sure it was real. He didn’t open it though.

“He um, says it’s a favorite.”

No response again, which had Dick pulling out the other part of the package,

“And this is um-from me I guess? Though it’s technically yours so I can’t really say I’m giving it.”

The little box of mementos stood on Dick’s palm and shined under the lighting since Dick decided to polish the thing before coming. (no Tim, I am not staling, shut up)

This got a different reaction. It actually got a slew of them. Surprise, confusion, disbelief, and finally landing on anger.

“You bastard. That’s mine!”

Dick held his other hand up in surrender. “I know, and I’m sorry for touching something personal. I didn’t know what it was when I opened it.”

Jason swiped the box from Dick’s hand and held it close to him as if Dick was going to take it away.

“Yeah fucking right. I hid this, there is no way you found it on accident.”

“Well, I mean- I was cleaning your room? And I stumbled across it?”

“Do I look that idiotic to you? You don’t know how to order a cleaning lady, let alone clean something.”

“Hey, I can too! I just chose a more natural lifestyle.”

“Yeah, living in a pigsty is natural all right.”

Dick cracked a genuine smile. “Actually I-“

“Why are you here.” Anddd, shut down again.

“Oh err. I came to-“ see you? Ask if you’re alright? Ask if you hate me for not being there to stop you from dying? “To say I missed you.”

Alright, so the pure skepticism in Jay’s expression is earned.

“Right. You miss me oh so much, you just can’t wait for me to come home. I just have to drop the case first right?”

“What? No.”

“Oh stop it Grayson. Your little mini-me already tried. The ‘fuck off’ I gave him extends to you too.”

“Seriously Jay I didn’t-“

“It’s Jason to you.”

Dick swallowed feeling very wrong footed. Thanks Timmy.

“Jason. I don’t know what Tim said but I promise I’m not here because of it. I really wanted to just-talk outside a courtroom. We haven’t seen each other in three years Jay I just-“ Dick shrugged helplessly “I just want to talk. Like we promised to try, remember?”

Dick was terrified to check his inbox when he came back. He didn’t want to open it and find a voicemail and listen to a voice that was dead now, asking him for help. Advice. Maybe just telling him what was happening. A last shot at changing his mind. A blind hope that Dick could maybe help him.

Snapping at the reminder, Jason spat out: ”Yeah, I remember. I remember people finally pressuring you into playing nice Grayson. Must have been a pain in your ass.”

Dick’s eyes widened, surprised by the completely different version of one of the happier nights Dick remembered spending with Jason.

“No one forced me into anything. I meant what I said then, I wanted us to get better.”

 Jason rolled his eyes. “Right. Sure. Talk then if you’re so fucking gung-ho about it.”

Dick took a second to think of a topic. He had a million questions sure, but the direct approach was seriously not working.

“Um. How long have you been back?”

“From the dead?”

“No! In Gotham I didn’t- or well, if you want to share that too I don’t mind just-“

“A week before trial.”

“Oh. So not long then?”

Jason shook his head as if to say ‘yeah and?’

“Did you walk down Robinson? They built a paintball arena down there. It’s huge, and they bought really life like props. The manikins are straight up scary. Like, eyelashes and everything. The minute I went in I thought you’d love a place like that. You did say you’d like to try it.”

The longer Dick spoke the more perplexed Jason became.

“Are you actually serious right now?”

“Well, yeah? I really think you’d like it.”

“Well for one, if you really came all the way down here to talk about paintball, you’ve lost brain cells since I last saw you. And second, physical activity hasn’t really been on my mind.” To emphasize his point Jason gestured to his right leg that laid straight in front of him.

Dick cringed inwardly, wondering if this counted as highly offensive or forgivingly ignorant.

“Right. Sorry, I just remembered it and wasn’t thinking- stupid of me.”

Jason rolled his eyes and grabbed a cigar, the smoke necessary to deal with Dick’s everything. Seeing an opening Dick cleared his throat.

“Does it hurt when you walk?”

Jason shot him a nasty glare and Dick called that strike two.

“No shit Sherlock.”

But, Jason took another drag of smoke and actually answered, so maybe it wasn’t a strike.

“Sometimes. Comes and goes. Sometimes it’s as numb as stone, sometimes it’s on fire whenever I move. There’s good mornings too though. When it doesn’t hurt but I have full control.”

Dick nodded, lips pressed thin as horror crawled up his spine. Dick’s entire life always depended on his limbs, damaging one like this, having it always betray you- it sounded like Dick’s personal nightmare. Flying made his life worth the pain so who would Dick be if he couldn’t fly?

“Barbara says she has bad days too. Less as time goes by, but they happen.”

At the mention of his old friend a spark entered Jason’s eyes. Or perhaps it was just the light glow of the cigar tip and Dick imagined what he wished to see.

“…Is she ok?”

“She’s amazing. The past three years, she’s made herself a force to be reckoned with. Even the JL calls for help sometimes.”

Something that could perhaps be called a smirk crossed Jason’s features, mumbling under his breath.

“Good for you Barbie.”

“She’d love to see you, you know.”

At that Jason’s mood soured, tone going cold again.

“I’m not here to play house Grayson. Or whatever the fuck you’re trying to pull. I’m here to get that clown killed and that’s all the contact I need to have with any of you. We’re nobodies to each other now, you’re free to fuck off and actually not care.

“But- we aren’t nobodies Jay. I mean Jason, sorry. You were family, my family. I accepted that when I gave you my colors.”

“Family obligations were fully terminated with my death certificate.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m deadly serious.” Jason pointed his cigar directly at the elder. “And by the time you gave me that suit willingly I had already been there a while. Which means we were family for-what, six months? A year? I’ve been dead longer than that. Hell, I’ve known Talia more than you.”

“So what, that means it didn’t happen?”

At that Jason raised his eyebrows but Dick continued quicker. “I don’t care about the numbers. Family doesn’t have an on and off switch and it definitely doesn’t disappear when someone dies. You’re still family to us, no matter what you think.”

“Bullshit-“

“Is your mom still family?”

At that Jason went still.

“My parents? Bruce’s? They’ll always be family. Just like you are. I don’t care about the rest of the facts, they can’t change that.”

Jason bounced his good knee a little bit, agitation and anger mixing together.

“Whose fucking family Dick? I don’t know if you noticed but my grave isn’t next to the Waynes, or the Graysons. Mine is next to Haywood and it clearly says Todd! So don’t spout that bullshit, Bruce already tried.”

Dick shook his head frantically. “No, I never approved of that. I wasn’t here when he buried you Jason, I was-“

“In space, I remember.”

Dick didn’t touch his messages for two months. People kept getting angry at him, for not returning calls, for not knowing vital info. But Dick couldn’t risk seeing Jason’s number at the top of his unanswered messages.

“It was a mistake by a man completely lost in his grief. And I’m not Bruce. I don’t care if he renounced all of us, we’d still be family.”

Jason actually chuckled, but Dick could tell it wasn’t the good kind of chuckle.

“God, who made you Mother Teresa while I was gone. Or is this all cause you’ve been practicing big brother skills on the replacement?”

Dick tried not to react to the replacement word visibly. “It’s because I pulled my head out of my ass.”

“Or is it because this time the new kid wasn’t a dirty street rat with anger issues?”

“What, of course not!”

“Yeah Grayson?”, the anger seeped through again,“ Cause I heard this one came with your seal of approval before it even crossed the threshold. I heard you’ve been training the brat since day one. I’ve heard you sing praises for this one like the kid’s a messiah, unlike the previous washout punk.” Jason aggressively put out his cigar into the nearby ash tray. “Easier to be a big brother when the kid’s an angel I guess. Does it fluff your pillows and kiss you goodnight before you fall asleep as well, or does it just read all your heroic exploits as a bed time story?”

Dick grit his teeth, trying to keep his voice level. “Tim isn’t like that. He isn’t just something, he is a person first of all and second of all he isn’t your replacement!”

“Funny, cause I distinctly remember that’s all you though I ever was!”

“And I was wrong. I was wrong, and I told you that. I tried to make up for it, I was going to make things better. I had plans for us, more trips, more adventures, I wanted to get to know you!”

“Well, gee, guess I understand then! What’s that old saying…” Jason snapped his finger “That’s it! The first kittens go down the river. Replacement just had the luck of not having to deal with your bullshit cause you already hashed it out on the undesirable. Good for him!“

Dick felt his last restraint snap, voice fully used to yell.

“I didn’t! I didn’t act nicer to him because he wasn’t like you Jay, I was nicer to him because I didn’t fucking know what the word brother actually means until I saw it engraved on your tombstone!”

That shut the both of them up for a few seconds. Jason reached for another cigar but he didn’t light it, he just tapped it against his knee in a pattern. Dick ran a hand through his hair trying to collect his thought.

Outside, most people slept. Cars raced down the streets loudly. Rats scattered down alleys and street lights twinkled like far away stars.

Dick continued, quieter now. “You needed someone. I wasn’t ready to be that someone. I should have been, but I wasn’t. Tim needed someone too. And I wasn’t going to fail another kid. It had nothing to do with who you were, or where you were from. It was just- it just was. I didn’t ask for things to be that way.”

‘You have to open your voicemail Dick. You can’t let it haunt you like this.’

‘I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if he actually called Barb. I just don’t know.’

“I was dead for less than six months. Six months Dick. That’s how long it took for everything I was to get filled by the new kid. “

“I was gone for six months when Bruce made you Robin too.”

“Like it’s the same? You moved two hours away Dick, I was dead. “

“Yeah, I know. It’s just- I understand the feeling to a degree.”

“Bullshi-“

“The shame is the worst part, isn’t it?”

Jason stopped mid word, eyes flashing for a second.

“The shame of believing you were something special. Falling for the bullshit that Bruce actually cared that much, or that no one can help him the way you help him. It’s the worst because you know it’s not your fault but it feels like it is. If I had been better, if I hadn’t argued, if I hadn’t yelled- would I be as replaceable?”

Jason lowered his raised head slowly, cigar firmly crushed in his grip by now.

“I know it hurts. And God, I really didn’t want you to go through it too. But I promise, I swear upon my parent’s graves, it isn’t true. We didn’t replace you. We just took in a kid who needed Robin too. “

Letting the crushed nicotine fall onto the table in front of him Jason kept his eyes averted. Dick couldn’t see if any of his words struck a chord but he’d have to hope.

“If you actually understand even a part of what I feel then you’d let me kill that bastard Dick.”

“…It won’t make the pain go away.”

Jason chuckled again. “Figures. So much talk about not being Bruce and you still preach just like him.”

“I have never in my life regretted not killing my parent’s murderer. Bruce has never regretted not killing Joe Chill. Barbara doesn’t regret not killing Joker. We all felt the way you do. We found a better way to heal.”

Jason shook his head with a small smile. “My way is just fine for me, thanks. You can take your morality and shove it where the batsignal don’t shine.” He stood up and started making his way towards the door slowly.

“It’s more harm than good Jay. It won’t fix anything it’ll just make you numb or worse. I’ve seen it in the police, I’ve felt it on my own skin. You’ll get what you want right now, but what about after? What will you do when the thing you’ve chased after so long is gone? How will you feel when you see your case become a legal precedent, and all those deaths will be on you too?”

“I don’t know Dick, maybe I’ll finally feel safe in my own goddamn city. How’s about that for aftereffects?”

Dick stopped and sighed. Just like Barbara, there was no winning this argument.

“I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret for the rest of your life Jay. This isn’t something you can clean off your hands.”

Jason shrugged. “Isn’t that why we always wear gloves?”

Dick groaned at the terrible joke, and a little at his own ordeal. Why can’t things ever just be easy? What happened to the days of punching villains that didn’t have tragic backstories and you didn’t have to break out the Aristotle to try and win an argument?

Jason leaned against the wall next to the door and smirked a bit at the reaction. He nodded towards the exit.

“Time to scram Grayson. If you stay any longer Talia will poison you or something.”

He didn’t want to go, but again Dick knew this wasn’t his territory. Overstepping isn’t a good idea.

He didn’t stop talking though. “Oh right. I meant to ask-Did you like the hydrangeas this year?”

The old code sent Jason’s eyebrows clear into his hairline. Neither had used the terms in years, but the translation was engraved in their minds.

‘Do you need an evac?’

Jason shook his head no. “No need. They look the freaking same every year.”

Well, from the looks of him he was telling the truth. There were no bruises on the younger, nor did he seem scared or stressed of his companions. Dick would have to trust it then.

Getting to his feet Dick shifted from foot to foot, still not willing to leave. He needed to get something straight.

“Is this really what you want?”

“For fuck sake –“

“No, I mean it. Is this what you want? Not Talia, not the pit, not something else but you. Are you sure this is the one thing that will give you peace?”

Jason clenched his jaw but he nodded.

“Can you swear it? On Catherine’s grave?”

Jason paused. He narrowed his eyes trying to find a trap but nothing in the words had a double meaning.

“I swear.”

Dick nodded. Disappointed, saddened it had come to this point, but understanding that it was final then.

“Alright then Jay. I hope you find what you’re looking for at the end of this. “

“I guess I’ll see you in court then.”

It took three months and five days, several conversations with his friends and far too much time spent of what-ifs for Dick to look at his inbox with shaking hands. He pressed the play button, knowing the message had to be somewhere among the first ones. So Dick listened.

He listened as Alfred called to wish him good luck on the trip. As work friends called with info. As girls from months ago returned his calls. As city officials asked for meetings. As the landlord asked for higher rent.

He listened to everything and sat there for two hours as voices went on and on about things Dick couldn’t care less about. Not at that moment. Even when Kori called to wish him a good morning. Or Donna asked for an RSVP on her birthday party. Or Alfred called in to ask about him.

Dick had listened but he hadn’t heard a single word. Because Jason’s voice was the only one he was listening for.

And Jason had never called.

He never believed he actually could.

“I. I don’t think you will Jason.”

Jason raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

“I’m not going to get I the middle of this anymore. I won’t help Bruce, but I won’t help you either. I can’t condone killing, and if it endangers more than the Joker I will fight that- but this trial isn’t my fight. I don’t have the right to intervene I think.”

Jason seemed positively surprised by the choice, staring at Dick with a far nicer gaze than before.

“Well, hit me with a crowbar and call me Robin. Maybe there’s something original about you after all Dickhead.”

Dick smiled a bit, tension finally seeping out of him. The choice had been plaguing his mind for a while, but this one time staying on the fence seemed truly the best option. Someone had to be ready to tend to the casualties after the war was over after all.

He came to the door and stood next to Jason, wondering if asking for a hug would be too much. Deciding that rationality could fuck off for the moment, Dick quickly threw his arms around the younger before squeezing tight.

“My number’s still the same Little Wing.“

He left leaving a stunned Jason by the exit.

--------------------------------------------
"Breaking news! Batman has been confirmed as a witness for the Joker trial! Trial is to be resumed in two days!"

Chapter Text

Dear Master Jason

Do forgive me for writing to you like this. Meeting face to face is truly the only way such a conversation can be done justice, but seeing as I do not have your phone number I could not call and announce my visit.

While I certainly remember your passionate stances on the pointlessness of such formalities, I simply could not overstep. It would be very unbecoming of me.

However, I must admit, even then I would hesitate. You see, as the years go by my heart becomes easier to pierce and quiver. Though my mind understands the many reasons you might not wish to even speak to me, the idea of facing such an event saddens me to my core. Instead of taking the fight head on, I wrote this instead.

I wonder if I have ever done anything more cowardly.

I wish to see you my boy, but I am no old fool just yet. I understand how both your father and I have failed you irrevocably. When you needed us most we focused on the wrong aspects of the problems in front of us. Though we loved you, we caused pain in our ignorance.

I have not forgiven myself for this, and I doubt I ever truly will.

This letter isn’t about me however. I did not write this to ease the guilt my soul feels, but to finally try and do right by you for once. You deserve to know you were truly loved, and are so to this day. You also deserve an apology.

I am truly sorry I failed to guide you when you were suffering lad. I am sorry I did not do a better job of demanding respect be put on your name after your passing. I am sorry we made you feel unloved for even a second, even unknowingly.

If I had another lifetime and the wit of the Bard himself to properly convey the pure joy I felt when I saw your face after three long years I would still not be able to do the job justice.  

Fate found it in her heart to grant you life despite the blunders Bruce and I have made and I cannot be more grateful to the Lord for gracing all of us with such an endless kindness.

Miracles truly do happen it would seem, even to an old tired soul such as mine.

If by some chance you have it in your heart to see me, I shall gladly put the kettle on at any time. You have no need to announce yourself at all my boy.

Though, I imagine your visit will most likely come after your mission. I do not mind the wait.  The others had their doubts of your identity but I could feel it in my bones it was truly you.

I have only ever met two people that embody the righteousness of the tragic heroes so viscerally. The first was my son. The second was my grandson.

All I ask, though I have no right to, is that you please be careful. I do not need to warn you of the double edged blade that is revenge. Keep your head high, do not bow down to base instincts and do not trust the anger blindly.

In all your endeavors I wish you good luck and Godspeed Master Jason.

 Lovingly yours,

Alfred Pennyworth

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Sleep is hard to come by when you need it most.

On days that you know will affect your future, your thoughts run rampant with possibilities. The thoughts end up being so strong they chase away all the dreams, leaving you staring at ceilings and walls. Turning from one side of the bed to the other, as if the new position will hold the answer you need to calm down. Anxiety at what is to come making your heart run a marathon even as you lie still.

And though they are miles apart two souls find themselves in this position for the exact same reason.

Today would be the last day of trial.

Today Batman made a last stand to plead for the Joker’s life.

Jason gave up on sleep after the sun came up. He instead decided to get ready for the trial hours early, simply so he could have something to do. He did his morning routine, his exercises and was fully dressed when Talia walked into his room to see if he was awake.

She took in Jason’s tense form, the pale skin telling her he hadn’t slept at all, and watched as he combed through his hair with more force than necessary. Like this, all his confidence seemed stripped away. She couldn’t allow him to leave like this.

Luckily a solution came easily to her as she took in his worn leather jacket and jeans.

“You should change your outfit.”

Jason shot her a confused look though the mirror.

“I wore this exact thing the other day. It’s fine.”

“That day you went as a victim. Today you go as the victor. You should dress to show it.”

“Oh, and what exactly does a ‘victor’ look like?”

Talia glided over to Jason’s temporary closet and pulled out a covered outfit, one Jason certainly does not remember putting there.

“A gift for your success lamb. Trust when I say it will ease your doubts. It is rather interesting how a bold outfit can inspire confidence.”

Now, Jason hates suits on principal. For him, getting in a suit means he’s either going to a funeral or Bruce was dragging him to a party. Both events leave him drained and miserable so he wears suits as little as possible. Talia says it’s a shame since they look good on him but the price isn’t worth the reward.

“I am not wearing a suit. Just cause the whole courtroom looks like a bunch of pretentious assholes doesn’t mean I have to too. All that that would inspire is me looking for the nearest shallow grave.”

She raised an eyebrow without comment and removed the cover, leaving Jason surprised when, instead of the coal black he expected, a dark red pooled over the coat hanger. Blood red.

“Do you think I would allow you to simply blend in?”

The material was soft to the touch, and Jason had to admit it looked striking. Among the sea of blue and black it would certainly stand out. Red always caught the eye better. It left impressions. Jason had used red as his primary Robin color for a reason after all.

Red meant you weren’t afraid to be looked at. A way to keep the attention of attackers on him, while the people he saves remember the red bird afterwards.

‘Look at me. I’m not afraid of you.’

The magic that came with Robin made Jason believe that.

He hated suits with a passion, it was true. The suit he had died in inspired more confidence than anything in the world ever could. Nothing he will ever wear will come even close to it, so why try? Hasn’t he learned that calling attention to people who don’t deserve it ends in misery?

No matter what Jason wears he’ll never feel that magic again.

But he remembers the feeling. He knows it had worked, once upon a time.

‘Look at me. I’m not afraid of you.’

Maybe, just maybe, Jason doesn’t have to believe in it. Maybe he just needs others to.

He needs that to be the last thing Joker sees as they send him to hell.

 He hates suits. But this one time he can make an exception.

-----------------------------------------------------

Bruce watched through the cameras as Tim helped Basil act more natural. The resemblance was perfect, Basil got his features down to the hairs in his eyebrows. The acting on the other hand-well, Basil’s earliest critics all agreed on one thing. He tended to be overly dramatic.

‘Why Timothy you dashing lad! Have you seen what the scoundrels are accusing me of?’ Basil-Bruce pulled out a silk handkerchief and started dabbing at his eyes. ‘Oh, how could Jason do this to the family? If only my poor parents were here now, to help guide me but no! They were mercilessly gunned down in a alley when I was but a child! Oh, I have never been the same without mama and papa’s guidance.” He blew his nose into the hanky.  ‘I can hear mama’s favorite piano ballad now-“

Tim let out a sigh of pure agony. “Mr. Basil, with all due respect I think I have a better idea.”

Basil-Bruce turned his nose up at the criticism but motioned for Tim to go on.

“If you could just act mute that would be great.”

Alfred’s familiar footsteps started echoing down the cave. Turning to his old friend Bruce switched the camera feed off as Basil squawked at Tim’s ‘insulting input’. Bruce wasn’t worried for Tim, seeing as the boy had three different devices on him to stop the shape-shifter immediately.

“I suppose sleep is pointless for a man who can simply hide the bags under his eyes behind a cowl.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“That much I assumed. Stage fright? Or is it perhaps that pesky conscience acting up again?”

Bruce clenched his jaw at the words. Standing from his chair he walked the short distance to Jason’s memorial.  The warped image of Bruce Wayne overlaid the muted colors Jason had died in.

The memorial dome was built so Bruce couldn’t destroy it, but a side-effect he hadn’t planned on, a side-effect that felt like it had to be planned by a spirit of punishment, was that anyone who stared at Jason’s suit would also stare at their own reflection.

‘Look at me. I died for you.’

Jason had never been afraid of death. The boy ran up to machine guns as if they were filled with water and not bullets. Taunting criminals three times his size like he was untouchable. No, Jason was never scared of dying. That fact terrified Bruce more than any other.

How do you teach boundaries to a soul that doesn’t stop itself when faced with its own demise?

He had always had a problem with Bruce’s methods. Too forgiving, too weak.  The punishment never fit the crime if the crime went over a line in Jason’s head.

How do you teach a boy who sees himself as disposable that no one is disposable?

At first these problems seemed easily solvable to Bruce, but the more time passed…the more Bruce understood Jason’s issues weren’t things he could fully grasp. They had shared a lot of pain but the causes were so drastically different. What Jason needed was more than just Bruce.

But by the time Bruce accepted his own lacking Felipe Garzonas fell to his death.

When Bruce looks at Jason’s suit he’ll always see the cause along with the consequences.

Bruce Wayne pushed his own son into the Joker’s hands out of ignorance and denial. Bruce Wayne spent three years of his life trying desperately to show Jason his life mattered, only to teach him Robin was the part that was important. Bruce Wayne brought a child into his crusade and looked the other way when things didn’t go his way.

The memorial dome was built so it wouldn’t destroy as Bruce slammed his fists into his own reflection like a man possessed.

 ‘Look at me. I died because of you.’

“Dick called last night. He’s not showing up to trial.”

Alfred hummed. “Did he say why?”

“No. But the message is clear enough. He’s not getting involved any further.”

“And this upset your sleep sir?”

“No.”

It was the way Dick sounded that upset him.

Like a weight had been lifted from his back.

“Ah, so it must be stage fright after all. Have you planned out your speech sir? Do we have to go though some speech training like in the old days?”

“I’m not going to give a speech.”

“Aren’t you sir? I do believe your goals are only achievable if you manage to sway a juror to your cause. Considering the facts of the case are iron clad a speech to appeal to the higher morals of the jury seem like the only option.”

Bruce swallowed, unable to deny it.

“Quite right. We can call it a testimony if you wish but-why not call a spade a spade. “

“If you have something to say Alfred, say it. This roundabout passive aggressiveness isn’t helping.”

Alfred raised a single eyebrow, straitened his back.

“Very well. I will say it simply then sir. For once in my life, in all my years of service, I truly hope you lose Master Bruce. I know you have a vow, and will not break it no matter what. It is a great strength one must possess to keep to such a thing as valiantly as you have. I know how killing would destroy you, and I am grateful you save yourself every time you chose not to take a life. However, this one time. I sincerely believe ending that sick creature is for the benefit of us all. And if Master Jason’s involvement will bring the boy some peace of mind than this one time, can’t we turn the other cheek and let the uglier emotions play their part?”

“It never stops at ‘once’. You know it never stops at ‘once’ Al. This isn’t the help Jason needs-it’s just like before. Just like when I thought helping others would be enough to curb his anger. It won’t be enough. He’ll keep calling for justice until that burning need in him burns everything down. It’ll destroy him and take the city with it. I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.”

Bruce turned back to the memorial, to the glass that despite its indestructible build had cracks on its surface, and the face that glares between them.

“I won’t let him think his life is an acceptable price. Not again.”

 -----------------------------------------------------

Trial reconvened to an audience many hadn’t expected.

Beyond all the Gothamites that watched the proceedings without blinking, the news of Batman promising to attend reached far and wide, earning the attention of curious people all around the globe. You could find families gathered around their televisions in Texas. Students in Paris watching the livestream on their smartphones. A superhero fan in Egypt doing his chores as he listens to the radio transmission. Workers in Japan placing bets on whose wining the trial.

Everyone wanted to see a living legend step into daylight.

But no one more than the Gothamites themselves. Seeing the opportunity for some good publicity, the mayor set up a huge screen in Union plaza, gathering hundreds of excited citizens. Every single feed, blog, forum, app was flooded with comments and reactions, people livestreaming their reactions as the trial goes live. A lot of them were even wearing shirts to match the occasion. ‘Get nasty’, ‘Time for clown chowder’ and ‘Hand me a crowbar’ merch as far as the eye could see.

The screen lit up to a roar of cheers.

-----------------------------------------------------

Once again, Jason and Talia sat in their front row seats. Talia’s professional cut black suit complementing Jason’s eye-catching red.

Bruce Wayne walked in with a nervous looking Tim Drake. Many immediately noted the absence of Dick Grayson and started whispering to each other on the topic. Jason smirked at the way their body double had none of Bruce’s body language. He moved far too hesitantly, thinking every move twice over probably.

Jason would bet Tim’s frustrations weren’t about the trial as much as the stooge they got to play Bruce.

After the Joker was wheeled in, the courtroom was finally ready to start, the judge walking out.

Silence fully engulfed them with the judge’s opening word. The defense attorney stood and called Batman to stand nervously.

Jason fiddled with his coat sleeve, focusing on the way his nail scrapped against the smooth fabric. It was the only noise he could hear. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths, looking for the soul that would stand up and reveal themselves as Batman.

 A large object fell over the courtroom window.  It blocked out the sun, casting a shadow over the back of the room. Then the next window followed. The middle darkened as well. The last window turned black and Jason shivered as the heat of the sun disappeared from his skin. People started to panic, a woman making her way to the door when the emergency lights above blew out as well, pitching the room into pure darkness. The woman screamed.

Following her panic, chairs scrapped around, bodies started pushing against each other. No one got very far, the lack of sight causing everyone to bump into one another.

Jason and Talia stayed seated of course, counting the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five and light finally returned to the courtroom, the heavy tarps that were on the windows falling away.

Batman sat on the witness stand.

-----------------------------------------------------

“Wait, if that’s Batman then who’s sitting next to the kid?”

“Truly, that cannot be a mere body double, can it? The resemblance is uncanny.”

Flash sighed, rummaged through his pocket and slid a fifty over to a smug John Stewart. This got a raised eyebrow from Green Arrow.

“What was the bet?”

Barry petulantly leaned his head against the table. “I bet Bats would call Martian Manhunter to body double for him. And as we can see-“ Barry waved his hand towards the Martian sitting at the end of the table, “I lost.”

They all turned to look at Manhunter, who noticed the attention and raised his hand in a small wave.

“Hello.”

They turned back to Barry, slightly confused by the look of it.

“Hey, you’re right! Why didn’t he call J’ohn? Not like we haven’t done him solids before.”

Barry shrugged. “Beats me. I figured he wasn’t social enough to be friends with more than one body morphing individual.”

A snort came from Green Lantern. “When was the last time he asked any of us for anything personal Flash? Think about it.”

The friends all thought back but it was Superman who first reached the conclusion John was looking for.

“Before Robin died.”

“Precisely. And this is personal-personal. He found himself someone who wouldn’t be an emotional connection. It’s like how telling strangers your problems is easier than telling friends.”

Barry looked carefully to the fake Bruce and tried another guess.

 “Miss Martian?”

“Training the team downstairs.”

“Magic?”

“He hates magic.”

“Robot?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Isn’t there a shapeshifter in Gotham? The uh-mud dude!”

“Clayface? Bruce doesn’t work with villains.”

Barry sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. That one was a bit of a stretch.”

-----------------------------------------------------

The courtroom stared at the black mass at the witness table. He stared back. The judge recovered first, clearing his throat and pointing him hammer at the man.

“Show up to my courtroom like that again and I’ll hold you in contempt of court. I don’t care if you’re Bigfoot, we’ll find a way to charge you.”

The shadow nodded, which seemed to let air back into the courtroom. Slowly people made their way back into their chairs, no one taking their eyes away from the legend in front of them.

Finally all the players had taken their spots. The boy in red who cried for justice. The clown in white who laughed at justice. The man in mask who insisted on justice. None of them spoke of the same thing. All over the backdrop of an audience waiting to hear exactly what ‘justice’ looks like.

The guard that swore Batman in looked rather starstruck.

“Defense attorney, the witness is yours.”

Mr. Fell stood and awkwardly stared at Batman from halfway across the room. To the audience, he looked like he forgot his questions from the shock. To Jason he looked lost for some reason. To Bruce he looked embarrassed, probably due to the fact Fell realized he never asked Batman what to ask him on stand.

The awkward silence stretched on.

“Mister Fell. Your questions.”

Fell cleared his throat and nodded frantically.

“Right! Um, right my questions. I um-Mister Batman, Sir, um were you in Ethiopia when things went down?“

Next to Jason Talia scoffed at the stupid question.

Batman’s gravelly voice sounded through the courtroom. “I was.”

“Um, what were you doing there?”

“I was following the Joker. He had escaped Arkham and I had to return him as quick as possible.”

“I’m guessing you heard the prosecution’s theory?”

“I have.”

“Well um-“ Fell waved his hand around, “what do you think of it?”

Batman stayed silent for a moment.

His gaze lifted from the attorney to the boy in red in front of him. Jason stared back.

“I came here today to say I’m sorry.”

The crowd reeled, whispers quickly trading around them. Jason kept his eyes forward.

“For not saving you, and your mother. For letting you wander for three years. All this time I thought you were gone, another victim I had failed to save. Instead, you faced horrible things when you should have been with Bruce. I’m sorry you were caught up in a fight that didn’t involve you. You have every right to be angry at all of us.”

The prosecutor stood up. “Objection you honor, the witness isn’t answering the question.”

“Sustained. Witness, the question.”

“Jason was caught up in the events just as he described. The one thing I can witness to however is the fact Wayne was completely unaware of Jason’s survival.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I told Wayne he was dead before I placed Jason in a hospital. I made a belivable enough body replica and left it in the ruins. The body was made from decomposing materials, so even if you pulled the coffin out of the ground there will be no body.”

Jason stared wide eyed as Batman just admitted to all the bullshit Jason had come up with a year ago. He hadn’t expected it, in all honestly Jason thought Bruce was going to try and maintain a squeaky clean image for both parties.

Perhaps Bruce decided to cut his loses.

The people around him however, had vastly different reactions.

“Sweet Jesus did he just admit to kidnapping the kid?”

“What the fuckkkkkkk”

“Batman told Wayne his kid was dead??? That’s horrifying?”

The judge called for order and Batman continued.

“I couldn’t allow Bruce to take him back. Joker was fully convinced Jason was Robin, if he had hear Jason was alive- he would have told everyone in Arkham Jason was Robin. The boy would have been killed in days. I needed Joker to think him dead. I faked the death, along with the terrorist threats.”

Silence.

The judge asked the next question.

“Mr Wayne are you alright?”

All eyes turned to Basil-Bruce who seemed to have turned as red as a tomato, tears in his eyes.

“I- How could you!” Dramatically leaping to his feet Basil lashed his arm out towards the caped crusader. “We were friends! More so-I thought you were like a brother to me-“ Basil sobbed. “Did all those late night poetry sessions along the river mean nothing to you!?”

Tim sprang to his feet as well, grabbing the hysterical actor around the writs and leading him out, apologizing as he went. And thus Basil exited- stage right.

As people echoed ‘poor Bruce’ Jason tried to piece together where Batman was going with this. Why admit to such a thing at all? Unless-

“You were scared of the Joker for him?”

“The Joker is a fear all of Gotham shares. He is unpredictable, because he is insane.”

 Unless he needed a convenient segue.

“Er, the doctor said-“

“The doctor stated his opinion. Just as the doctors before him stated their opinion. One man who says he is sane against a sea of those who say otherwise. I have faced many foes but none-“Batman looked towards the Joker, voice somehow going deeper. “none are as unstable as that man. He is beyond sick.”

“I am? Is it contagious Batsy?”

The attorney fidgeted. He wasn’t sure what to ask next.

“Your honor. May I ask a favor.”

The judge raised his eyebrows in surprise at the unorthodox request, even more so one done by Batman. He nodded.

“You called me here today because you wished to hear my side of the events correct?”

“That’s what a witness is typically for yes.”

“May be allowed to speak freely then? I wish to say something.”

The judge seemed to be stuck somewhere between disbelief and confusion. Seemingly giving up on regular procedure he allowed it.

“I believe the Joker is not capable of answering for his decisions. The man he was before was broken and twisted into insanity. However, I wish to protect this city for all of us.” Batman paused. “I came here today to apologize for what I did, and for what I am about to do. I also came here today to do the one thing no one else will, and ask for you to spare the Joker’s life.”

 The crowd was mostly thrown into disbelief, along with a few angry comments.  Jason straightened his back and clenched his jaw, Talia’s arm a steady weight against his wrist.

“This trial isn’t procedure. It should be stopped, retried with more evidence and experts. People who were harmed by the Joker should not be on the jury. The defense should work on presenting the other side of the argument. As is, this trial is laughable. Even just the fact I’m allowed to attend is showcasing how far this has all gone.”

The judge didn’t like that. His face became pinched.

“Gotham is a city filled with grief and suffering. You have all felt it on your skin. It’s been many years as I’ve worked to pull this city into a better light, into something where we no longer have to resort to violence to solve our problems. But I am simply a temporary solution to a problem far far greater. Gotham will never truly get better until all of its citizens draw a line in the sand between the lives they wish to live and the violence that plagues them. We mustn’t stoop to using the same tactics as the criminals.

We cannot use murder to stop murder. Death is not something one can come back from. I fight in the name of progress. Bruises can heal, as can broken bones. We do not have the right to take life away when we can’t give it back. I refuse to do the one deed which cannot be healed.”

“Well, I don’t know about that one Batsy. The kid seems to have healed fine to me.” The clown giggled at his own words.

“If today’s verdict ends with a death penalty we will be plunging Gotham into the dark ages. Joker will only be the start to the bloodshed. The others who reside in Arkham will fall under the same precedent. But who says it will stop there? If we argue all those mentally ill will never get better, people will start to fear anyone who has issues. Going to a mental facility will once again become a massive stigma. All the progress that has been made will crumble. Truly mentally ill people will be doomed because of one man who may or may not be insane, and this will happen under the law. “

“What in the world is he talking about?”

“A precedent maybe? But what’s the big deal, not like Arkham is full of upstanding citizens.”

“I think he’s saying people will start witch hunts against anyone who’s mentally unstable so another Joker never happens.”

“Could that really happen.”

“He’s Batman. When is he ever wrong.”

Jason grit his teeth in time to his breathing. The audience had no idea just how often Batman was wrong.

Batman turned to the jury, white lenses flashing in the light.

“Do not let anger lead this city. Do not undo all the strides we have made towards a better society. We must be stronger. Gotham need to rise from its own ashes but it can’t do that if it drowns in blood every day. Let him live. Gotham will outlive.”

-----------------------------------------------------

“For my final word I can only remind the jury that it is not the job of this court to decide on the destiny of Gotham. It is to conclude whether or not the Joker is guilty of his crime. I believe we have proven beyond a reasonable doubt that he is. Though Joker’s sanity is questionable we have a professional who states he is fit to stand trial. No man dressed in an animal suit can state otherwise and expect us to just believe it.

Whether Batman likes believing it or not, Gotham drowns in blood every day anyway. The difference is, today we can choose whose blood it is. The innocent, or the guilty.

A society doesn’t crumble quite as easily as Batman claims. We shall judge all who come to court like we have the Joker. To truly become a better society we have to start dealing with our problems directly, and the only way to do so is here. In court. Not relying on vigilantes and children!

It is time Gotham cleaned house. And we have to start by getting rid of the roaches. We finish this today and no one will have to suffer like Jason has suffered, caught in a game of cat and mouse that never ends. This is just one family that was destroyed. Imagine all the ones that didn’t get a voice. Imagine the ones we can save.”

-----------------------------------------------------

“Erm, for my final word I want to say Mister Batman said everything I had to say.”

-----------------------------------------------------

The jury was taken into a different room to deliberate on their decision. The court went into intermission. Joker seemed bored now that Batman had disappeared, vanishing when the prosecution gave their final word. Jason knocked on the wooden bench he sat on. The world watched from afar as this one room held Gotham by the throat.

-----------------------------------------------------

GOTHAM HARBINGERS

Yes, this is the blog where the "Invade Metropolis with a goth army" plan started. No, we do not accept constructive criticism.

Gothamite1456 said:

OMG.OMG.OMG. Batman hid Jason from Bruce to keep him safe??? And Bruce never knew??? And Jason thought the entire time his family abandond/killed him😭😭😭 I'M IN ACTUAL TEARS THOSE POOR PEOPLE.

Aquaman'sFishStick said:

Maybe someone should tell Batman you can't actually find a jury full of people without one of them being a Joker victim lmao

UpUpAndBackIntoBed said:

Erm, am I missing something, how exactly is this trial not fair? Not our fault Joker got a lousy attorney smh. Does Batman know something I don't?

Cassidy said:

Are we really going to let a man who breaks the law every night to go around the city dressed like a bat and assaults criminals lecture us on following the law? A man who bends the rules of the court so he doesn’t have reveal his identity, telling us we can’t bend the rules of the court to get rid of a threat to public safety. It’s a joke. Batman’s a hypocrite, through and through.

Mia said:

If Batman were really the hero he thinks he is, you’d think he’d care more about protecting innocent lives than defending murderers. He says no one has the right to choose whether a person deserves to die, but honestly? That’s bull. He can tell himself that all he wants, but in reality, if the Joker gets to walk away from this because of Batman, then from now on, more than ever, every single life he ruins? That’ll be Batman’s fault. Inaction is a choice. You don’t get to point out how clean your hands are compared to everyone else’s when you’re hogging all the soap and water.

CG said:

Batman is a fucking idiot. Even worse the bastards a traitor. Everyone wants that clown dead. I swear, if he gets the clown a pass I'm grabbing my shotgun and going to Arkham myself. Fucking clown lover. 🤬🤬🤬

Wisetypewriter said:

If Batman wants us to follow the LETTER of the Law, then arrest him. Put him on trial right here and now for vigilantism. No arguing back, Batman. Give yourself to the police, take off your mask and show the whole fucking world the truth of your convictions. Either that, or shut the hell up, you hypocrite.

Bighead_who_likes_the_moon21 said:

Who made it his place to be Batman, "The Hero of Gotham" anyway? Was it Wayne who gave him that right? What authority did he have to give you the ok to break the law every night, and apparently get away with it, Scott free?

MoonGoddessKiana said:

I know that legally Joker needs to be charged with this crime specifically as well as legally sane but everyone knows what a monster he is and how Arkham and Blackgate are revolving doors that don't do anything. Sure some of the other Gotham rogues may be insane and struggling with mental health but the Joker is a whole other thing. The system is completely broken and I hope that if it isn't the death penalty then it's somewhere where the Joker can't escape from at least and a life sentence. The other rogues might be able to become better with better help but the Joker, he's what scares everyone in Gotham more than almost anything and we'd sleep so much easier if he was gone. Just somewhere he can't escape from is the bare minimum.

DistractionsDistructions said:

I totally agree with CG. Let's blow the place up. The clown is obvs guilty. #GetHim

Bighead_who_likes_the_moon21 said:

What happened to Jason should've hit close to home. Hell it should've crippled the home, like that poor young man! You saw his limping right? The fact that he's doing this by the books should be a perfect chance of true justice, and absolute closure. Is it revenge? Sure. But at least its by the law. Can't say the same about Batman.

Sushi said:

Send me to the dark ages pls. Let's hang the Joker's body next to the WELCOME TO GOTHAM sign too.

MoonGoddessKiana said:

Maybe we could call Wonder Woman to make the insanity plea accurately gauged if we're calling in Batman, I don't like other heroes in our city since it usually means trouble but if the Joker lis gone for good it might just be worth it. This isn't exactly a normal trial and that lasso may just make everything better.

ClickClack said:

Oh my God guys my mom said if Batman screws this up she's gonna set a bear trap on her rooftop😂😂😂

FeralAndProudOfIt said:

Don't forget Wayne is complicit in this shit. The bastard let the bat come on stand. If we're going Batman hunting I say we pay Wayne a visit too.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The jury room was a long table, chairs and almost nothing else. Plain walls, plain carpet, stuffy air.

The people seated at the table were waiting for someone to say something, unsure of what exactly they were supposed to argue.

A woman at the back of the table, gentle looking and fair, was the first that raised her voice.

“Should we just vote? I don’t think there’s a point in arguing since the defense didn’t try to debate any of the evidence.”

“I’ll get the papers.”

“Oh forget the papers Mrs. Goodwin let’s just vote. It’ll be unanimous.”

She shook her head no, handing out pens and paper. “We’ll do this right.”

The jurors all scribbled their answers and handed the votes back. Mrs. Goodwin read the votes outloud.

Guilty, guilty, guilty…all guilty. However, there was only eleven votes.

“A vote is missing. Did someone forget to hand in their vote?”

At the middle of the table a girl kept her head down, fiddling with a paper scrap in her fingers. They turned eyes to her.

“Miss?”

The young girl didn’t lift her gaze. She kept staring at the paper in her hand.

She wished, more than anything, that she wasn’t there. It was her first jury duty, and it had been beyond simple. She was ready to vote guilty the minute she heard it was the Joker. The fact the defense didn’t do their job didn’t bother her. The fact some things didn’t line up right was trivial. Batman’s little speech about a better Gotham was bullshit beyond belief and it didn’t reach one bit of her.

It was the fact she had a brother in Blackgate who was getting sent to Arkham soon. It was the fact he might fall under that precedent and get killed. He didn’t deserve it though, her brother was cruel sometimes sure but- he was sick. So badly sick. Ever since Scarecrow used him for some experiments, it was like he was somewhere else completely. He screamed at walls and lashed out, he didn’t listen to reason.

The girl knew, he had hurt people. And those people couldn’t wait to see her brother rot. They only knew him as she knew the Joker, a maniac. They didn’t know her brother before it.

She stared at the scrap of paper in her hand and thought of the boy on stand, who lost everything because of the clown. And how hurt he looked because he lost his family.

Maybe he’d understand then that she couldn’t let family suffer.

She stared at the ‘not guilty’ in her hand before handing it over with shaking hand.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The judge asked for the verdict.

The verdict was spoken.

Laughter echoed through the courtroom.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Jason shoved through the courtroom without looking back. People were yelling around him, at him, some tried to grab his arms but he twisted out of reach. He stormed towards the court staircase, going up towards the rooftop exit.

Vicki Vale followed at his heels, along around fifteen other people, racing to see where he was going.

Jason burst on onto the roof.

“You.”

Jason limped to the stone still figure of Batman, coming face to face with Gotham’s protector.

“You coward. You absolute piece of shit. All you had to do was stay out of it. That’s all you had to do.”

Jason shoved the batsymbol away from him, yelling across the roof. “You finally had the chance to do the right thing! You could have set us all free by doing nothing.

But no.

No no no, you have to go around waving your goddamn virtue around like the pope does a Bible. Your fucking antiquated sense of morality really means more than protecting all of us?!”

“Jason I-“

“No! You said everything you had to say downstairs. You’ve done the right thing Batman. And you’ve taken the one thing I want more than anything along with it.”, his voice broke on the last words. “The one chance I had!”

He turned to leave and threw the caped vigilante one last message.

“You’ve made your bed. And I want you to know, that everything. Every single thing. From this point on is your fault. “

Batman stared as Jason made his way back down the stairs, Vicki looking beyond delighted at the drama she had caught on camera. She hurried to follow after the black car Jason and Talia had pilled themselves into, knowing one thing fully well.

This story was far from over.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Talia looked through her window into the public that surrounded the courthouse. At the disappointed faces, the crying woman who sobbed loudly on the front steps, the fury on so many betrayed citizens.

And she smiled.

Jason entered the car in a whirlwind, slammed the door shut and breathed rapidly. With a wave of her hand the driver started to pull them away from the courthouse.

Once Jason’s breathing had evened out she turned to him, pride clear in her voice.

“Your little speech was caught by that vile woman perfectly. Everyone heard all of it. You played the part just right, dramatic enough to be believable but not overdone. You’ve done well.”

Surprisingly, Jason didn’t lift his gaze at her words. He always lit up over her compliments, and the plan had gone well all things considered. She expected more enthusiasm and less- whatever this was.

The boy swallowed roughly. “I need a smoke.”

Talia raised her eyebrow at the non-response and tried to figure out what had actually upset him. The way he was shaking, it reminded her of his pit attacks but his eyes weren’t glowing. His head was still bowed down so she couldn’t see his full face. Only the way he kept rapidly opening and closing his eyes.

“You can smoke in the car. Just this once.”

Jason plucked the last cigar in his pack, slowly brought the lighter close to the tip and watched as the flame swayed along with the shaking fingers.

He smoked in silence for a moment, eyes not staring at anything. The cigar was half gone when he hid his face behind his palms. Talia took the cigar from limp fingers and put it out.

“You held hope didn’t you. You wanted him to give up.”

Jason shook his head, not showing his face. His voice was scratchy, like he was on the verge of either screams or tears.

“I knew he’d do it. I fucking knew.”

He took in a stuttering breath. Let out a hysterical little laugh.

“Hell, I planned for it. It shouldn’t even bother me. Why the hell does it hurt so much.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

The black car finally arrived at its destination. Union plaza.

The crowd was still gathered, albeit far less excited than before. Now they were grouped up, shouting, bickering, arguing amongt themselves.

The group closest to their car stopped talking when Jason climbed out. They watched as he went around, opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a crowbar. He walked confidently over to the square center, where the founder of Gotham stood immortalized in stone statue.

The crowd noticed him more and more, and most had followed the red figure as he climbed up to the foot of the statue. And they watched as he reeled the crowbar back and slammed it into the statues legs.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

The loud crashes silenced the crowd, everyone watching as he chipped away at the statue. A girl ran up to the foot.

“What are you doing man? Are you crazy?”

Jason stopped and turned to look at her, then at the rest of the crowd.

“Tell me something. Are you satisfied?”

The crowd didn’t answer. Jason pointed his crowbar towards the screen that showed a replay of the Batman court testimony.

“You saw all of it! You know full well what happened. So fucking tell me. IS ANYONE HERE SATISFIED?”

Jason reeled the crowbar back and slammed it into the statue again.

“Every day some crazy nutcase escapes from Arkham and we all pay the price. They kill our parents, our sisters, our brothers, our kids and all we do IS GIVE THEM A SLAP ON THE WRIST AND ASK THEM TO DO BETTER.”

The next slam took a chunk of stone down.

“Tomorrow comes and it’s all the same. Just like yesterday, and the day before and the month before and the year before and I’M SICK OF IT. “

Slam.

“I TRIED TO DO IT THEIR WAY. I TRIED TO SHOW THEM HOW TO FIX IT AND THEY WON’T LISTEN. OUR PROTECTORS REFUSE TO PROTECT US. OUR LAW REFUSES TO LOOK AFTER US!”

SLAM.

“I’M SICK AND TIRED OF WATCHING PEOPLE DIE FOR NOTHING.”

SLAM

“I’M TIRED OF LISTENING TO EXCUSES.”

SLAM.

“I’M DONE WAITING FOR TOMORROW TO MAGICALLY GET FUCKING BETTER.”

SLAM.

He finally turned back to the crowd, blood dripping from a cut the stone made on his cheek.

“JUSTICE IS SUPPOSED TO SATISFY THE VICTIMS. I’M NOT SATISFIED. I’M OVER THIS SICK CITY, AND IT’S USELESS HEROES AND POINTLESS RULES. I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT’S MISERY TO LAST FOREVER. SO LET ME ASK YOU AGAIN. “

Jason looked at the gathered crowd, saw the fire in their eyes and pain along with it. All of them just regular people, who had lived under fear for so long they had forgotten what it was like to hope for actual justice. And once it was finally in their grasp it had been taken away.

Now they remembered fully what anger felt like. Not just their own anger, but shared anger. Anger at something greater than any individual, but that affected all of them.

“ARE YOU SATISFIED? OR ARE WE FINALLY GOING TO TELL THEM EXACTLY WHAT WE WANT?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Around the world people watched as Gotham’s courts decided to let the Joker live.

Then they watched as a young man spat in the face of one of the Earth’s greatest heroes.

They kept watching as an angry mob at Union plaza climbed over the statue of their own city’s founder, and the sea of people slammed into the back as hard as they could.

John T. Gotham smashed against the ground into a million tiny pieces to the roar of an unsatisfied crowd.

Chapter Text

 “We can’t win.”

It was a heavy statement. A defeated one. When Talia returned to Limerick in Ireland she had found Jason staring at an empty vodka bottle, asking his own warped reflection what exactly the point of any of it was.

Talia had been gone for three weeks while Jason consulted the criminal law expert. After they went over everything seven times, argued back and forth, turned everything around and tried again, they came to a conclusion. There was no way for them to insure a court victory, not without compromising on one of Jason’s goals.

And that wouldn’t do.

Jason needed the Joker dead.  But he also needed to make Bruce suffer. Suffer for all the lies he had fed a desperate child so he could have a loyal solider, and then get away with it. No one was held accountable for what happened to Jason, and that burned pure hot shame inside him. He needed that gone.

His dad was supposed to be the guy that brings justice. Jason should have, for once in his life, been insured. He had expected the Vengeance of Gotham to make sure Jason’s death never went unavanged, if only because Jason was supposed to be his son.  

He hadn’t mattered to Sheila. She left him without a second thought in the hands of a man she had a one night stand with.

He hadn’t mattered to Willis, who took every opportunity to tell and show Jason just how useless he was.

He hadn’t mattered to Catherin, who decided she was better off forgetting Jason even existed by being sky high.

Jason just wasn’t enough to be important.

He was scrawny, sickly even. Wills was an idiot but he had muscle, he was at least good for something. Jason wasn’t even that. He was fast on his feet, but so were a lot of the other kids. His grades were good but it was a Bowary school, not exactly a sign of quality or intelligence. Any idiot can have good grades there if they just know how to count to ten and read.

No, there wasn’t a single special thing about Jason that was worth sticking around for.

He knew that.

He knew that.

He was still stupid enough to believe Bruce would be different. Because Bruce was nice. Because Bruce didn’t hit him when he fucked up. Because Bruce didn’t run out of the room when Jason walked in. Because Bruce didn’t need Jason for money, and he let him stay anyway. Because Bruce taught him even if he was so much stupider than Bruce, Dick and Alfred.

Bruce said he didn’t want Jason to work, abuse, misuse or own.

So Jason thought, if Bruce doesn’t want any of that, there’s only one possible reason he’s letting him stay.

Bruce might actually care.

It took Talia opening his eyes for Jason to finally understand how wrong that was.

Jason was nothing special. Perfect for molding into whatever you want, and if you failed, perfectly replaceable.

There was no one to miss him after all.

It took six months for Bruce to upgrade and nothing, not the crowbar, not the explosion, not even Catherin forgetting his name, hurt as much as the proof Bruce never actually thought Jason mattered.

But that kid was still dead. And something else was alive. And this Jason be damned if he lets that kid go unavanged.

Still, he can’t win.

To kill the Joker he needs to prove both he and Batman were there. Destroying Batman means showing the city just how many mistakes he makes. He can’t let them unmask him, or else things will spiral far further than he wants.  He has to convince 12 random people that their hero is a traitor, while keeping the Joker in check, keeping Bruce’s identity safe, pulling off a victim act and juggling all their contacts at the same time.

Too many variables. Bruce would be able to keep all that in check probably. Jason would have to try his best and bet on his luck.

And Jason knows his luck.

Rigging the jury is an option but people will notice if they put 12 Joker victims on one single jury. So fine, Jason can settle for a majority, but what about the others? Bruce will comb their accounts and finances like a shark, bribery is easy to catch and even easier to outdo. All he has to do is pay them more to “keep an open mind.” Or maybe the new kid will do that anyway, as a precaution.

Threatening them was Talia’s suggestion but Jason drew the line at threatening innocent civilians. It just felt wrong to win one for the people by abusing the people.

And none of this would hurt Bruce enough.

Public opinion of Batman might sour but his defenders will always stick by him. No, Jason needs to make them hate him, just as much as Jason does.

But the euphoria of killing the Joker will erase any anger directed at Batman pretty quickly.

It was a fucking mess, in short.

The plan was doomed from the start, and Talia was still in the wind then. For all Jason knew, she was dead, killed by Ra’s for her betrayal. Jason figured maybe he was coming for Jason right at that moment. Maybe Jason didn’t care. So he found something else to lament to in the meantime, his own expression in a vodka bottle.

Talia found him two days later.

“No matter what we do it’s a flop. I’ve been over it a hundred times.”

Talia raised an eyebrow at the distasteful state of the room and Jason himself, saying nothing as she removed her fur coat and hung it over a chair.

“And so you’ve decided to drown your miseries like all the great failures?”

Jason snorted. “I wish. I drank the whole thing without feeling a fucking shiver. Goddamn pit kills the buzz before it even happens.”

She nodded. “You are still in the early stages, the pit is potent. It burns away all that would harm the natural rhythm of your system. Alcohol has very little effect on father and  I even now.”

“Whooptie do. Ain’t that just great.”

“You act as if you’ve already lost.”

“And you’re acting like you just got back from vacation.” Jason finally turned from the bottle and gave Talia a once over. “Not even a scratch. I guess Ra’s is more forgiving than I thought. “

Her face settled in a neutral expression, but Jason has a PHD in reading those by now. This one tells him she’s hiding her unease, so maybe Ra’s wasn’t quite so merciful.

Well, Jason had spent the last few days thinking up possible murder methods for the man if Talia never came back. Be a shame if they were never used.

“It took longer than I thought it would, but I was able to calm him enough to listen. He has decided to give us his full support.”

Now that got some raised eyebrows from Jason. “Just like that? We were public enemy number one and now we’re buddies?”

“Your idea intrigued him. He believes that it may humble Bruce if it works. My father has been trying to achieve that for years.”

Jason thunked his head against the counter, main issue coming back to him.

“Well you can thank him for all the generous help but it’s not happening. There’s no way to get both him and that clown at the same time. “

He heard her stand up, followed by the scraping of her chair being placed closer to his. She reached under his hands and took the papers he was holding. Head turned to the side he watched as she studiously went over every single piece of legislature the expert had given him, and if nothing else, Jason felt something in him unwind at the sight and sound of her.

Turns out Jason was still stupid. He still hasn’t learned how to block out the gapping loneliness that eats him alive so easily. He still wants to pretend Talia came back cause she cares, and not cause this will lead her back to Bruce. At least he’s learned that pretending and believing can be two separate things.

“I see your point. Humiliating him is not enough?”

“I want him begging for forgiveness on his knees. “

“But if the Joker is found guilty-“

“The system starts to work and Bruce slowly gets less and less work. Eventually he becomes yesterday’s news.”

“How very patient of you. ”

Jason scowled. “That’s the only option where they both suffer but…”

“It’s not enough.”

“I don’t want to wait years to see him realize how pointless he is.”

She hummed, fingernails scratching along the papers.

“Many would still hold their adoration for him. Just like you did.”

“Desperate sheep, all of us.” he snorted. “No one wants to believe the shepherd is as blind as a bat.”

No, Talia thought, no one except the sacrificial lamb.

Perhaps that was it.

“You try to compromise on the Batman side, but what about the Joker?”

Jason turned to her quick, as if her words were the height of sacrilegious.

“There’s nothing to compromise on. That clown needs to die, and it has to be in court. “

“I am not saying to spare him. I’m simply stating that perhaps it doesn’t have to happen in that order.”

“Would you give me a straight answer for once in your life?”

She straightened, voice as sharp as her knives. “You didn’t stop believing in Batman until he made you into a sacrificial lamb.” The boy’s fists tightened at the words.

“Then that’s what you must do to the city. Show them all just how quickly Bruce would do the same, all to save the clown. Break the illusion first. Everything may follow.”

“But- that means he’d save the clown. Without a verdict-“

“Lamb. Laws are made, not by the ones that yell loudest, but the ones that only need a whisper to tear cities to pieces. Justice is decided much the same. “ Her eyes glimmer in the room light, but her smile is far from kind. “You were raised in a democracy. You should know to never underestimate the power of angry people.”

The plans shifted after that.

They kept most of the ideas, the evidence, the cover, the witnesses. Accepting the fact they were probably going to lose actually cut out a few things Jason wasn’t sure how to control, like stopping Bruce from testifying, or directing it in some way. Like this, Jason could work either way.

He never told Talia about keeping the original solution. He’s not sure why even bothered keeping it but- if by some miracle Bruce proved he was willing to understand, if he just showed Jason he had changed for the better, then perhaps it would be enough to have Batman die out slowly.

He wouldn’t, but it was a warm thought he liked poking when he would watch sunsets with Talia.

The next part of the plan was made from scratch.

Batman saves the Joker from a justifiable death.

The people become angry.

Before that anger fizzles out like all the other times, Jason grabs it with both hands and directs it. He strokes the flames, gives them a figure they can gather around

A martyr and leader in one. Someone who understands the pain, bares scars to prove it.

He provokes outrage.

Years of repressed violence and outrage bubble to the surface.

The next step is using it to remind people just who’s in charge. They need to instill fear in the leaders, prove this isn’t a game anymore.

And after so many years of slaughter and oppression, peaceful protesting just wasn’t going to be possible. The normal people need to become scarier than anyone in that asylum ever was.

Plus, Jason can lead, but he can’t control. Gothamites were violent by nature, no way someone wasn’t going to start a fight.

So then, why even pretend.

Jason was going to give them something to fear, no hesitation.

The statue base cracked the fifth time they all charged.

Jason could feel the strain in his whole body, his legs weren’t used to this much pressure, it hurt like hell.

He didn’t care.

Not when there were people, right there, pushing right along with him.

They sure as hell weren’t complaining, one guy was even ramming so hard his shoulder was bleeding.

The sweet sound of stone cracking, the feel of so many people rushing besides him, the heat of the strain.

It was exhilarating.

The statue tipped, it smashed, it scattered.

Jason felt his entire soul lift at the cheers. Then he was literally lifted when the huge dude with the bleeding shoulder suddenly picked him up. Him, and two more guys shouldered Jason above the crowd, carrying him around like a fucking parade float.

There was…a lot of people looking at him then.

The adrenaline had died down too, which let his old childish nerves prickle at the attention.

Jason was no one special.

No one ever paid attention.

But now, now he would make everyone pay attention.

Part one was a success. Part two started then. He stuffed his nerves back in the coffin they crawled out from, right next to the embarrassment and yelled as loud as he could.

“Feels good doesn’t it!? Hurting the city in the only way you know they’ll care. This is the only way they’ll listen! I’m not going to stop until they hear what we have to say. And you guys know what that is?”

People started murmuring around him, a girl with a posh accent screaming out first. “We want that motherfucking clown dead.”

Jason smiled. “That’s exactly right. I’m not stopping until that motherfucking clown is dead. Who’s with me?!”

Not a single soul in the crowd stayed silent.

“Media attention will be your greatest friend. The more people see you, the more serious they’ll take you.”

“I might know a reporter very willing to give me a platform.”

“Anything else we might use to spread the word?”

“Social media will do the work for us. We should always keep a close eye on the comments, if people aren’t spitting curses left and right we’ll know we’ve done something wrong.”

“I suppose. So what is the plan after you amass your following?”

“Angry people are the best force you can get, but anger isn’t reliable. It’ll fizzle out in a matter of days, and it won’t ever be as potent as that moment. I’ll have to work quick.”

“Immediately after trial then?”

“And no stopping either. Catch Gordon off guard as much as we can.”

“Off guard with what?”

“The first stop.”

Wayne Tower loomed tall and large over all the little ants below it.

The guards at the doors tried to stop them of course. They held up their guns at the large crowd and called for backup. But when two of the men suddenly collapsed, darts firmly logged into their neck laced with sleeping powder, the others quickly held their hands up.

Talia wasn’t there, but her men certainly were.

Jason got a smaller part of the crowd to follow him inside. The first thing he did was block the elevators. Jason didn’t mind this getting violent, but Bruce’s employees certainly didn’t deserve it. He told the crowd to stick to him, while letting the workers on ground floor run upstairs.

Their destination was all the way down into the RnD department anyway. And no, not the one that made WayneTech phones and fridges. The one in the back, where they kept the actual fun stuff.

Jason handed out everything he could find. The escrimas, the staffs, the batarangs, the stun guns, boxes of the stuff being carried to the crowd upstairs. Jason was eyeing the rocket launcher on the wall when Fox stormed in, as red as a tomato.

“What do you think you’re doing!?”

“Accessorizing. Does the rocket launcher come in red?”

“Son, you’ve just showed the world where Batman gets his tech from. Do you have any idea-“

Jason waved him off. “Sue me. I’m not here for long anyway.”

He made to grab the launcher when Lucius held his shoulder in a vice grip. “Stop this kid. It’ll become a massacre if you just let them out on the city. Talk them down, you can win another way.”

Jason’s stare was colder than ice.

“What’s the difference. I stop now and tomorrow’s massacre will just be by some psycho in a mask. At least we’re not hiding who we are. “

“You think that makes you better?”

“I think it makes me scarier.”

The big muscly dude from before, who Jason had learned was called Jeff, broke Lucius’s grip for Jason. It got both people to flinch. Jeff grabbed the launcher and the two made their way outside, Lucius’s disappointed gaze on their backs.

Upstairs was one hell of a party.

When Jason went down, there was around a thousand people in front of the tower.

Now there were far too many to count. Jason would say the crowd tripled, but it was hard to say.

For one, because Gordon finally showed up and his men didn’t count.

“Hiya commissioner. Long time no see.”

Gordon looked older, but age didn’t stop him from looking just as intimidating as he did to nine year old thief Jason. Even now, standing a good 15 meters away, behind armored police no less, he makes you want to confess to any crime with just a stare.

“This is over kid. Get on the ground, hands behind your backs. You’re all arrested.”

Jason shrugged. He walked out of the crowd and into the front, people telling him to pull back.

“No offense comish but aren’t you a bit outnumbered here?”

“We’ve got barricades on all sides. There’s no point in running, you’ll just get people hurt and killed for no reason.”

“Killed? What, you’ll shoot us?”

“If you give me no other choice.”

“Oh. Ok then.” Jason turned back to the crowd. “Hey guys!”, God, he needs to get a megaphone or something, the yelling was killing his throat. “From now on we’re all insane ok? Comish here only shoots at sane people, so we’ll be okay!”

“Don’t play dumb kid, get on the ground!” Gordon barked that out, seems Jason hit a nerve.

He answered with a sigh, not even fully turning around. “Not in the mood. Don’t want to get my suit dirty.”

Gordon himself moved forward then, taking out his handcuffs.

“Before you piss off so many people Comish, can I give you some advice?”

Gordon didn’t answer he just kept going forward.

“You said we’re barricaded in but- maybe you were a bit too quick on the trigger. “ Jason pointed over Gordon’s shoulder, at something in the far distance. A cop from the barricade yelled for Gordon as well, hand on the radio.

Commissioner turned around to see a sea of people coming at them from behind, people who weren’t at the plaza but watched Jason’s speech finally starting to catch up. And if Jason was right, they were just the beginning.

“Sweet mother of-“

“Now comish. Let’s not do anything stupid that would get people killed. Call the men off and get out before they get here. And for your own good, stay the hell away. Can’t guarantee your safety a second time.”

Gordon turned to Jason with a look Jason had seen him only give to hardened criminals. Well, it took a few years but Jason officially got a promotion from petty thug.

“This isn’t over kid. By the time it is, you’ll be behind bars.”

“Sure. As long as the clown is dead I’ll skip there myself.”

“It’s not worth it kid.”

“Is that what you told Barbara too?”

That one had Gordon take an angry step forward. Jason stood firm. Gordon came as close as he could without touch.

“Look here kid. As horrible as the system is, and as much as you’ve suffered for it, it doesn’t give you the right to just tear it down. We can’t destroy the system every time something fails. You can’t improve something if it’s constantly being destroyed. You wanna help? Become a lawyer, or a doctor. Get a badge and shot the motherfucker yourself. Don’t act like this is all for some higher reason you brat. All of it is cause you want blood, not actual change. So stop acting like you’re some revolutionary because it’s really starting to piss me the hell off.”

With that Gordon turned around and stalked into the crowd, Jason’s angry reply following after him.

“Can’t fix something that was built to be broken Gordon! If you could, a fucking vigilante nightlight wouldn’t be part of your goddamn office equipment!”

The police retreated quick, the crowd whistling and booing as they passed, the angrier ones hitting the cars.

“You wish to arm an angry turbulent crowd?”

“Terrifying, isn’t it?”

“And uncontrollable. I do not mind, but I assumed you would have issue with the civilian casualties this is going to cause.”

“I don’t need to control them. These aren’t mindless animals. Ironically, the greatest threat is the police. If the pigs start shooting, people will fight back. If we can get them to back off though… We can probably make it to the asylum without a single civilian casualty.”

“That’s beyond idealistic.”

“You’re forgetting that Gotham isn’t just Batman.”

“You believe the masks will help?”

“Bruce will put all his effort into stopping me. I’m guessing the replacement won’t be far behind. The others will be placed on crowd control, and Nightwing and Oracle are a very effective force. She’ll keep an eye on things and send out her birds wherever they’re needed. I don’t even have to ask.”

“I do not like relying on others for crucial details.”

“Sure, me neither. That’s why you’re going to be so gracious and let me borrow a small assassin army from Ra’s  to infiltrate the crowd. They can knock anyone out if trouble starts brewing.”

“I suppose I’m the one who will have to ask.”

“Pretty please?”

“Do not beg, it is beneath you. “ She thought for a moment. “Fine. But I do not want to hear any whining from you when I call Lex tonight. We’ll need him to make sure this has any chance of successes.”

“Why the fuck do we need the egg head for now?”

“He has a very important connection we can use.”

Gordon pulled his men back to the station and was immediately called by the Mayor, emergency hotline.

Gordon got ready to be told off for running away, for placing the police image in such a low light.

He didn’t expect to be told to stand down.

“What? Are you insane?”

“Better not provoke them. Let them go through the city, grab your men and go over to the Asylum. Make sure you’re there, do what you have to, but use your head Gordon. I’d rather explain the death of a clown and some sickos than a bunch of civilians that got killed by the police.”

“Sir, that’s like- like we’re just giving them full reign over the city! We might as well all just quit, that’s not our job.”

“Those people are the city Gordon. Don’t bite the hand that feeds.”

 “I imagine you’ll head straight for the asylum. “

“Straight through the heart of the city.”

“Traffic? Passerby? Workers in shops?”

“I have an idea for that but-“

“You’re not sure you can pull it off?”

“I’m not sure the person I want to ask will help. She’d be able to evacuate the area though, and quickly too. Stop traffic forcefully if need be.”

“Oh. You’re talking about Oracle.”

“She might help, if only to make sure more people stay safe. Bur Babs had a bit of a stubborn streak, she might not help just cause she doesn’t like what I’m doing.” Jason shrugged. “Depends on how much she hates me by then.”

Jason marched in front.

Behind him were those that were at the plaza, Jeff, and a few faces he could recognize from the courthouse. Behind them were people who rushed in off the streets. There were people in suits, in track suits, beggars, housewives. Behind that were the people who showed up later. To Jason’s surprise, most of them had come wearing red. As sign of solidarity maybe, to go along with the crowbars many of them had.

The group Jason hadn’t expected to actually show up were the gang members he could see scattered about.

That one had been a gamble. He had Talia make a few visits to the old mafia families, the Cosa Nostra, what was left of the Speed Deamonz, the Triads, and a few of the less crazy Russian branches. The ones that had their way of business destroyed most by masks. He just had Talia suggest that perhaps, if the masks could be rooted out of the city, the old way of life would return.

Guess Talia was a better sweet talker than I thought.

 The best part was, the longer they walked the more people joined. Jason’s original thousand had grown so quickly he couldn’t see the end of the crowd by a long shot.

All the more he had to thank Babs for when he saw her. No way this many people wouldn’t have caused a traffic disaster if she hadn’t listened to his message.

People watched from their windows as the crowd flowed by, kids waving thinking it was some sort of parade. The steps were thunderous in the empty streets. With this many people behind him, Jason felt unstoppable.

Finally, they were going to do this right.

Some people in the crowd abused the situation of course. They broke into the empty shops, stole and vandalized. Those that started turning violent were quickly removed from the crowd however, and Jason saw Nightwing’s blue out of the corner of his eye once. It was probably a leftover from his Robin days but the knowledge did make him feel just a sliver safer.

Every street had been cleared and the energy kept climbing higher with every step closer, until the gates of Arkham were finally in front of them.

The gates were tall, electrified, and according to most recent upgrades, enforced with titanium.

Gate, meet rocket launcher.

“Okay people stand back! Jeff buddy, can I get that? Thank you.”

After making sure they were all far away enough to be safe Jason got onto one knee, placed the launcher over his shoulder, wiggled into a comfortable position.

Aimed.

Smiled.

Fired.

The rocket hissed into the air and kissed the gate with the force of a few TNT sticks. And there’s something about explosions that just, scratches an itch he has, and yes, he’s aware he died in one. It probably says something about him a therapist would have the time of day with, but for now Jason just enjoyed watching that Arkham sign get blown sky high.

The people cheered, ‘fuck yeahs’ and ‘that’s it’ coming from all around.

Step two was over.

Step three started with the first step across the now destroyed gate.

They broke through the main door easily enough, and that’s when things didn’t fully follow the plan. There were no guards anywhere, which told Jason someone else had to be there first.

The found Batman standing in front of the Joker’s cell.

Chapter Text

Barbara pushed herself away from the computer before she could slam her hands down on her thousand dollar equipment. She clenched and uncleanched her fists, breathed through her nose deeply, bit her lip. Vicki Vale was on the screen behind her, like an excited parrot, squawking about the argument between Jason and Batman she just witnessed.

This was fine.

She had to control herself, she was a professional. She didn’t let her anger overcome her because she knew not to get invested in this, she knew she had to be unattached-

“Fucking dammit!”

She slammed her hands against the handrails of her chair, once, twice, thrice.

“Dammit, God, why couldn’t it just-” she let out a short unintelligible yell, extremely glad there was no one else in the building to hear her.

One more hit to the chair and Barbara leaned back, swallowed, closed her eyes for a few seconds and let the bitter thoughts wash over her.

Feeling was healthy. She had to remember that, and just let herself face the things that bothered her at the moment.

Mostly it was bitter bitter disappointment.

They were so close to a world where that bastard was dead and Bruce just derailed it. Over nothing.

She’s admired the man for many years, but she can freely admit he’s wrong here. This once his morality is a nuisance and not a virtue. Cops had guns for a reason, judges had the death penalty for a reason.

It’s to protect. To protect first, and punish second.

And Barbara was fully ready to deactivate her Joker security systems for eternity.

A deep breath turned into a sigh and Barbara opened her eyes to the monitors. Nothing’s changed. Life is the exact same as it was last month and yet it feels like a years long war was just lost.

She let the thoughts fester for a bit more, Vicki’s voice narrating Jason’s journey through Gotham in the background. God knows how he feels, when her own disappointment was this potent. Now he had to go to retrial, prolong this torture even more. She didn’t doubt he’d do it, Jason would never give this up, but this would just muddy the waters, give Joker even more chances of slipping away.

Her phone chimed. The personal one, so her father probably. Calling to make sure she was ok, to insure himself she was taking the news well.

Her mind already put together a comforting message when she noticed the number was unknown. A burner at that.

For all the connotations the name Oracle had with it she hadn’t seen this coming.

‘Five minutes from now I’ll be starting a riot in Union plaza. Twenty minutes in we will be marching over Cameron street, and down the avenue. We won’t stop until we reach the Asylum. I know I have no right to ask Barbie but please close them off. I don’t want this to get any uglier than it needs to be.

J.’

A riot? Wasn’t Jason heading home?

Finally tuning in to what Vicki was blabbing on about, she realized they really were on their way to the plaza.

Jason isn’t waiting for retrial after all.

He was going to take justice by his own hands.

Huh.

Dad always told her riots don’t end well. That they endanger more than they accomplish.

Letting the clown live is the same.

She could feel her disappointment change into apprehensive excitement.

This is a brilliant idea. This is an awful idea.

So what’s the right thing to do?

Bruce chose this way. He pushed Jason into a position where he either accepts defeat or accepts compromise.  As if the child that stole Batmobile tires was ever going to reel back in the face of bad odds.

And there was no time to stop it anyway. Five minutes was enough for her to inform Bruce, but not enough for anyone to act. Probably why Jason waited until then to tell her.

He was forcing her hand in a way.

If she didn’t do it, considering the info she has, she’d be in part responsible for the lives it endangers.

At least he was self-aware enough to ask. Would have been better if he stopped being chicken and came for a visit but it was something.

Barbara took in one more breath and rolled back to her computer, taking a few seconds to plan it out in her head.

She’d figure out Jason’s payment later.

Next she called in the person she needed most for this to work.

“Oracle to Nightwing, do you copy? We have an emergency evac.”

Tim had just dropped off Clayface at Arkham as per their deal when Jason pushed the statue over.  Tim had watched it happen over phone, and the bubble of sympathy and pity he had felt for Jason had to be forcibly popped.

Tim had warned him he wouldn’t win. And now Jason was actively making an ugly situation uglier. No room for emotions here, only the fact civilians were being put in danger and Tim needed to be Robin more than anything then.

They had tried to reach him. He refused. The right thing to do now was to bring him in.

That’s all it is. It doesn’t matter he was Tim’s predecessor. It doesn’t matter he was Bruce’s son. It doesn’t matter he’s the reason street kids sometimes run up to Tim and give him tips on mobs and even hugs.

They had tried.

He doesn’t want family, he doesn’t get it then.

Stopping him and bringing him in is the right thing.

It is.

It is.

Tim assessed the situation.

A riot was starting and he wasn’t even dressed as Robin at the moment, not to mention how far away he was. Thinking quick he had Alfred drive him to the nearest safehouse so he could change, and hopefully by the time he got there he could help. Alfred bid him good luck before driving off back home.

Tim was fully dressed when Batman sent him a disengage signal.

Disengage.

Like there wasn’t a full scale riot starting downtown. Bruce wanted him home.

Tim was slightly peeved at this. It was an order, and the one most important rule of Tim’s entire career had been to not question those.

According to Bruce anyway, Dick had different thoughts on the matter.

That’s why he deemed it an acceptable compromise to call the man and ask directly, and plainly, what in the world he’s thinking.

“Report.”

“Confused. Why am I being benched?”

“It was an order, I don’t have time-“

“Right, you’re busy. So I’ll make sure the mob doesn’t go bananas while you do whatever it is you’re doing.“

“No. It’s an angry mob with a very clear dislike for Batman. Do you think they’ll treat Robin like anything other than Batman’s sidekick?”

Partner actually, but fine whatever.

“Then what about you? It’s not safe for you either! You shouldn’t be alone.”

Bruce’s next words were just the slightest shade mellower, but still unmistakably an order. “You’ll help me most by staying safe Robin. Stand down. Do not engage the mob.”

The line went quiet for a few moments and Tim realized Bruce was waiting for him to respond. He let out an angry huff, but Tim couldn’t ignore how warm the concern felt. Concern because Tim was family, concern Tim had earned.

“Understood. I won’t engage.”

“Good. Batman out.”

Tim chewed on his cheek for a bit wondering how far the riot could spread before it would be acceptable for Tim to ignore his promise. A city wide panic? Maybe. Half of a city wide panic? That sounds about right.

In the meantime, he just finished putting on his suit. It would be a shame if he went through the hassle for nothing.

He pulled up his forum bots, the little programs had been pulling overtime recently, fighting a losing battle. He had them stop posting the Jason comments after his testimony, changing them to “Batman fanboys” basically. Reminding people of all the good Batman has done over the years. They used to get a lot of likes, but predictably they’ve been getting less and less.

Checking which bots got the most responses was a good way to find which Gotham forums were the most active ones. The more aggressive factions liked switching forums often, but this method hadn’t failed Tim yet. Now it led him to the Gotham Harbingers forum.

GOTHAM HARBINGERS

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CG said:

The courts are a fucking joke😂😂😂I can’t believe someone had the AUDACITY to say that mf isn’t guilty. I CAN’T. LIKE YEAH, WE ALL COLLECTIVLEY HALUCINATED ALL THOSE MURDERS.

Aquaman'sFishStick said:

Batman is a capitalist pig, pass it on. Watching Wayne's stock drill itself into the ground is so satisfying~

NightTitan said:

FUCK BATMAN!

TristiCorde said:

In a normal-society situation, Batman would be wrong. We’re not thinking like a normal-society situation anymore.

SpeedIsANeed said:

Any of you know a bitch named Audrey Dom? Cause I really need to pay her a visit.

Tim certainly knew her. She was one of the jury board. Listening to the alarm bells going off in Tim’s head, he checked the other forums to see if anyone else was mentioning her.

They were. And it was spreading, in a very not nice way.

Tim put two and two together pretty easily, but he still had Oracle confirm it for him. She was indeed the one vote that hung the trial, and someone leaked the info. Audrey was in danger, and it very much sounded like a job for Robin.

After all, Tim can’t engage the mob but it’s not his fault if the mob engages him.

“Have you closed off Cameron?”

“Yes. I’ve turned off the traffic lights and redirected most of the cars around. I’m having issues with the shop owners. Most of them have cleared out when the siren rang but some are bunkering down. I need you to get them out.”

“You got it O. Where am I going?”

“The jewelry and the bakery. Hurry up N, the crowd is growing every second.”

Nightwing took a running leap off the building and didn’t give himself the usual few seconds of free fall to enjoy the wind. But man, he wished he brought sunglasses. Running around in daylight was throwing him off a bit.

He didn’t dwell though. He said he’d stop anyone other than the Joker from getting hurt in this mess and he meant it. Now that apparently included helping contain a riot. He thought of maybe trying to break it up, getting Jason away from the crowd and talking him down.

But he promised to not intervene anymore. And this is all the result of Bruce’s actions anyway.

So, when Barbara told him of Jason’s message, he was extremely happy to help. It aligned perfectly with his idea of keeping the civilians safe after all.

 A very helpful factor too, was Nightwing’s known status as in independent vigilante. Sure, people suspect he and Batman are good buddies, but Nightwing is usually in Bludhaven, or patrols alone.

It saved him a few injuries for sure.

“Mister Nightwing!”

Dick turned his head to teen girl waving at him from her window. He made his way over, checking for any trouble.

“Yes miss?”

“I gotta tell ya mister Nightwing, watch where you leap ok? Grandma put a bear trap on the roof and I hear mister Walker from down the street made his roof all slippery. No one wants the bat to come round you know?”

Dick blinked at the girl. Bear traps? Really?

Nightwing thanked the girl and made his way to the roof, where an actual bear trap was. He sprung the thing, made sure it was locked and then made a much more carful approach to his targets. On the way he saw a few more interesting things, like trip wires and a lot of broken glass.

The signs were very creative though. He’d seen at least ten ‘fuck Batman’ signs graffitied around, and others went the extra mile and wrote down ‘the kid is right’, ‘Shame on you’, ‘Gotham isn’t a circus’, ‘With heroes like you who needs villains’ on tarps and hung them around.

Yeah, Dick was very glad he decided to go with a rebranding.

The jewelry store owner was easy enough to convince, after Dick told him a mob was coming. The baker on the other hand, not so much.

“I don’t listen to you mask types anymore. I’ve heard enough bullshit to last me a few years.”

“Sir, I’m serious. A mob is coming, it’s not safe.”

“Not safe for you maybe. I’m not the one associating with clown loving bastards.”

“Mobs don’t ask where your loyalties are usually.”

“Like I’d trust you for anything. All you masks are the same. Just doing what suits you best, but wanting to be called heroes anyway. You’re no heroes, and I don’t trust strangers. Get out.”

“I’m not Batman, I have nothing to do with the trial. Please sir, I just want to help. You could really get hurt.”

“Oh yea? If you’re not with the Bat why aren’t you out there, protesting with everyone?”

Dick bit back the scoff and the ‘Believe me, that story is so long it would take us hours’.

“I don’t exactly think this is the right way either.”

“Hah, knew you were a clown lover.”

“I am not. I hate him just as much as everyone.”

“So you agree they should roast the bastard?”

Dick went silent at that. Babs chimed into his ear.

Just say what he wants to hear. It’s not important what he thinks.

Yeah, it was thinking exactly like that that got Bruce into this mess anyway. Ignoring the general public, underestimating them. Lying to them, expecting them to just be compliant and dumb enough to fall for all of the schemes.

“…I think Joker deserves to die. But I don’t have the right to make that call. I don’t want to be the one to make it either.”

The man squinted at him, held his gaze for a few seconds before asking.

“You from around here kid?’

Nightwing smiled and nodded. “Well, I wasn’t born here if that’s what you mean.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You’re way too nice for a Gothamite.”

Unsure whether to be offended or complimented, Dick convinced the baker to take shelter elsewhere.

As soon as the two left the shop Babs chimed in with a new direction, sending Nightwing further along.

Audrey lived in a rundown apartment complex in the Bowery.

It had far too little security and even less friendly faces that would be willing to help her out. Robin found her frantically writing a letter in a torn up room, travel bag overflowing with things. She was getting ready to run. At least that made Tim’s job a bit easier.

He eased himself into the room quietly, cleared his throat and raised his hands in the air when she pulled a gun on him.

“Whoa lady! I come in peace.”

Her hands were obviously not used to holding a gun, she was shaking too much .

“What-what do you want?”

“To help. I’m Robin, and I think you’re in trouble.”

She scoffed. “You think? I got 10 messages explicitly telling me what they do to ‘clown lovers’ in this town. I think I know I’m in fucking danger kid!”

“Right. Sorry. I can see that. Just-put the gun down ok, I really just want to help.”

“Yeah, no. “

Tim swallowed and calmed himself for a second.

“Alright. Just, hear me out. I promise, I’ll leave if you don’t want my help.”

“I don’t have time, they’ll knock my door down any second!”

“And where will you go then?”

“Out of Gotham, as far as I can.”

“Good. That’s good. But how? I passed over a small group heading this way, if they’re here for you there’s no way you can get passed them.”

She took in a sharp breath at the info. Tim kept going.

“I’d bet there’s also people waiting for you at the bus station, and no taxis are driving because of the mob. You don’t have a car and none of the trains are working either. “

Audrey gaped. “Have you been following me?!”

“No! “ Tim really wanted to pull at his hair, but any sudden movement would spook her. “I got most of that from online chatter. Some violent idiots want to box you in. “

Her face grew frantic at the news. She took a wobbly step back, shaking her head from side to side a little. “No, no they can’t I- I was going to catch the bus out of here. That’s the only way- they can’t already know that!”

Tim looked at sadly at her, keeping his tone calm. “I know it’s scary. But you’re not going to get hurt, promise. As long as you let me get you out of town.”

Audrey stared at him for a bit, breathing still too quick. Her face crumpled, she lowered the gun and brought a shaking hand to her face.

“God, why did everything have to get so fucked-”

In the following minutes Tim kept his gaze averted as Audrey shook on her bed, and tried to shush her sobs as much as she could. Once she calmed, she went to her travel bag and emptied half of it. Zipped it up. Took a look in her mirror, wiped away her ruined mascara. Coming to some sort of conclusion, she went back to the letter she left unfinished and stared at it.

A second passed.

Two.

She picked up the pen and wrote two quick sentences. Stared at it for a few seconds more.

Bent it in half and placed it into the envelope, stamped and ready to mail.

“Ok Robin. I’ll come with but!”, she raised her pointer finger, “you have to promise to take me to a mail box.”

After Tim’s quick nod, the two stood and left the apartment as is.

Now, it was Robin’s turn to run the show, and he started it off with a bang.

Instead of leading the two downstairs, he grabbed Audrey’s arm and led the them towards the roof. He told her to keep as quiet as she could and then leaped over the narrow gap to the neighboring building.

Robin signaled she do the same, but she shook her head frantically, eyes firmly on the five story drop below. She absolutely refused to end up as a cement pancake.

Looking down however, she also noticed a group of people in sunglasses and cloth masks gathering around her apartment building door, whispering about something.

The bats they were holding propelled her to swallow down her fear and jump to the other roof.

Robin greeted her with a supportive nod and he led the two to the side with the fire escape.

That is, he led until his feet suddenly lost all friction and Tim went flying over the edge of the building.

Luckily, he had training that made sure he stayed quiet. Not so luckily, Audrey had no such thing. She screamed when Tim disappeared over the ledge and didn’t breath until the claw of his grappling gun suddenly appeared.

A slightly windblown Tim arrived back on the roof as if nothing happened, and he immediately wiped the top of the roof with his fingers.

“Oil!? Who the hell put oil over a rooftop?”

Bellow them, voices murmured from the alley.

“I heard a scream around here somewhere. Check the other side, that bitch can’t be far!”

Panic firmly refreshed, the two quickly and quietly made it down the fire escape and ran for the lives. They were spotted though, and Tim thanked his lucky stars the idiots didn’t get their hands on guns when the chase began.

Tim could have lost them easy, but Audrey was a far slower runner than your average nighttime vigilante. The two thugs caught up to them and Tim debated if fighting two thugs counts as breaking his promise.

After extensive debate, he has judged in favor of kicking the bad guy’s butts.

“Well would you look at this! Batman’s little birdy is protectin’ the clown lover. I fuckin’ knew you bastards rigged the whole thing!”

“They probably bought the little whore off from the start.”

The girl shook her head, voice shaking. “No! I didn’t do it for the clown or the bat, I didn’t, I swear!”

Tim stood firmly in front of Audrey and extended his bo staff, the only warning the two were going to get.

“Leave her alone. She did what she had the right to do. If you guys have a problem, go take it up with the police.”

“We don’t like listening to brats, just as much as we like listening to clown lovers. Get the hell out of our city.”

And that was that. Warning ignored, the two thugs rushed the lone bird and swung their metal bats with all the strength their bulky bodies gave them.

They missed every swing.

Robin easily moved between their attacks and used his cape to blind them with every turn. Then he would lung and punch quickly, aiming for the stomach, the face and finally slamming their necks to knock them out.

Audrey didn’t say anything, but even as Tim led her away her eyes stayed on the two crumpled forms.

The rest of the trip was quiet, spent on dogging into alleyways and out of them using the shadows. People passed them, but no one noticed the two huddled forms. Step by step they found themselves in a dead end, arriving at their destination.

The sight seemed to snap Audrey out of the stupor she was in.

“Holy-Holy shit kid. Is that yours?”

“Well. I do have the keys Miss, so what do you think?”

Audrey gave him a skeptical look, and a wet sounding snort “I’d say you shouldn’t steal your old man’s car just to impress chicks when you aren’t tall enough to reach the steering wheel.”

Tim most certainly didn’t dignify that with a response. He just opened the Batmobile’s door and proved that he could reach the steering wheel thank you very much.

So, the two were off.

Audrey looking at things with wide, red rimmed eyes and Tim trying very hard not to show how the driver’s seat was way too big for him. Damn Bruce for taking the adjustable Batmobile.

He didn’t stop driving until they were firmly out of the Bowery, speeding down Robert Kane memorial bridge, literally flying over anyone in front, and arriving in Bristol.

“Hey! You promised me a mail box!”

“I know. I couldn’t risk stopping in the Bowery though, so we’ll stop in Bristol.”

Her face scrunched up. “There are mail boxes in Bristol?”

“Um, yeah? Why wouldn’t there be?”

“I thought Bristol people all had like-a special super-fast rich people system or something. Or they just had their butlers deliver their messages.”

Tim gave her a light grin. He forgets how most of Gotham thinks Bristol is like a whole other planet.

“Of course not. They put on pants one leg at a time too, if you would believe it.”

“Sure”, she raised an eyebrow, “it must be harder for them though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Those heavy ass wallets always pulling them down.”

Audrey giggled at her own joke. Tim did the polite thing and refrained from correcting her presumption, since rich people actually have lighter wallets because all they carry are credit cards.

He had some social tact. Even if it was learned through endless teasing by Steph.

Audrey’s laughter faded quickly, and it actually had to do with the truly heavy object on her mind, her letter. It crinkled between her fingers and she knew she was bending it, but no way was she letting it go.

And ok, social tact says he shouldn’t ask, but curiosity is the one thing he has never been able to smother so-

“Who’s it for?”

Audrey bit her lip.

“My brother.”

“…”

“…”

“Something important?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“You couldn’t have called?”

“No. They only let you send letters.”

Tim tapped his finger against the steering wheel.

“So-Blackgate then?”

Audrey lowered her head and nodded. Whoops, did Tim make her too uncomfortable? Or, was it shame maybe?

“You don’t have to tell me. “

“No, it’s-it’s ok. You can ask. You’re saving my life after all, it’s only fair.”

“I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I said it’s ok.”

“It’s just that people don’t like telling Robin no and I just-“

“Would you just ask already.”

He sent her a sheepish grin and nodded. He flexed his grip on the steering wheel as he picked the question he wanted to know most.

“Is he the reason you voted ‘not guilty’?”

“…Yeah. He’s- he’s really messed in the head. They’re sending him to Arkham next month and I just-“

“You were scared?”

She nodded. “If what Batman said is true, they could kill him. And I-what kind of sister would do that to her own brother you know?”

Robin nodded and smiled at her. “You’re really brave. You did the right thing even though you knew they’d be angry at you. You probably saved a lot of lives.”

Slowly, Audrey turned her head and looked at Tim, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted. Her eyes glanced over him, and, as if remembering who she was talking to, her tone went cold.

“You can’t actually think that.”

“What? Why not?”

“Brave? I’m the biggest coward in this entire city. I went and saved a bunch of child serial killers I-“, her voice chocked, “I couldn’t do the right thing cause I was scared! I’m the reason Jason lost. He was the fucking brave one, he took on that clown face to face and I just- God.” Her eyes went wide. “What if the clown goes after him now? Everyone knows Joker holds grudges he’s gonna-“

Audrey buried her head in her hands.

“He’s gonna kill him.”

Tim shook his head, trying to sound reassuring.

“Don’t worry about Jason. Batman will make sure nothing happens to him”

Audrey snorted. “You mean the guy that testified against him. Oh sure, he’ll be a great help.”

“Look, it’s all complicated but- you saved a life. You don’t answer for the things they do with those lives.”

“I sure as fuck do when it’s the goddam Joker!”

“You’ve never even met him, you aren’t-“

“I don’t need to meet him. Every kid in this city knows him intimately. This is Gotham, people aren’t scared of the dark, they’re scared of laughing.  I’ve met the monster in my nightmares enough times. Don’t you dare try and say I did the right thing by saving the monster you clown lover!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that!”

“Cause it’s true obviously! No way would anyone defend that sick son of a bitch unless you guys had some deal with him.” She frantically looked around.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over! We’re far enough now and no way in hell am I spending another minute next to a clown lover. How do I know you aren’t driving me to him or Batman right now?!”

“Look, let’s just calm down and-“

“Let me out!", she punctuated every yell with a punch to Robin’s shoulder, refusing to listen to anymore of his arguments,"Right now, right now, right now!”

Tim cut his losses and pulled over. Audrey jumped out with her things, turning to send Tim one last glare. He made one last ditch effort to bring her back.

“You don’t have to do this. Just let me get you to the airport. I won’t say a thing about any of it anymore.”

“Take a hike kid.”

“Don’t do something else you’ll regret, there might be people waiting for you there.“

“Jackass I’ll have you know I don’t regret what I did, I’m just not delusional enough to think I did the right thing!”

And that definitely threw Tim through a couple of error messages.

“So you think you made the wrong choices-but you don’t regret them?”

Audrey rolled her eyes. “Don’t you get it yet kid? I made the wrong choice, because it’s the only choice I can live with. I wanted the clown dead, I wanted Jason to win, I wanted the city to get better, but all of it got in between me and my brother. And nothing else matters when you have family involved.

So no kid, I don’t regret it. I just wish it could have been fucking different. But I guess you can’t even count on Robin to be a hero anymore.”

And with that she slammed the door and walked away from Tim’s sight.

Nightwing. Was. Tired.

Simply put, evacuating 50 shops in two hours on foot? Not Fun.

Rescuing civilians between runs? Most certainly added to the experience.

Not getting a single break while Babs mocks you for your lack of endurance in that tone you just know she’s making innuendo jokes? Icing on the cake.

He still got the job done though, of course.

The closest thing he did get to a break though, was when his path took him across the front of the mob, right over Jason. He took a minute to watch.

It was-colorful was the first thing that came to mind.

Gotham is gray by nature, from the sky to the building blocks. Jason stood out like a sore thumb, red suit and all. He slowly made his way forward, but it was as fast as he could go probably, his limp seemed far more pronounced. He was probably in pain. His followers were insistent on letting him lead, so everyone moved far more slowly than a usual mob would.

A slowly moving glacier of anger and resentment.

Right behind Jay was a small group of randomly dressed people, grey suits and neon sports clothes and everyday browns. Then came the red sea.

It was certainly a sight.

He’d actually never seen something like it in Gotham before.

Dick always did want Jason to be more original. This wasn’t quite what he meant. It all made Dick’s skin prickle in the wrong way. Fear. Fear of a bloodbath, fear of the entire city tearing the family apart.

He breathed in deep, and let the fear go.

He’d have to take a leap of faith and trust Jason knew what he was doing.

Hope. Pray.

Jason’s still present bat senses had him looking up and noticing Dick’s static figure. He didn’t linger, but Dick saw how his lips curved into a smile for a second.

It spurred Dick forward.

Jason was a hero. Always, first and foremost, of the regular folk. Dick could trust that at any time of day.

And if it all blew up, at least Dick knows he did what he could.

“Dad? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine honey. The kid almost boxed us in, but he let us leave before it got messy. Knocked a few cars but that’s it.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it”

Gordon grunted, in that way she knew he had a cigar in his mouth.

“I have a goddamn riot in my city and the mayor wants me to lay down and play dead. I’m on my way to Arkham right now but-“

“He put you on a leash basically?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I’ll call you later sweetheart, stay safe.”

He hung up before she could wish him the same, but she didn’t mind. She was a bit too busy tracing the police car. They were going through the Upper East Side.

Would be a shame if the cars she redirected caused a traffic jam so he has to go around the long way.

And if he hit every single red light once he got out of there.

And if they ran into construction.

Barbara would stay safe of course, and she would make sure her father stayed just as safe. After all, what are daughters for, if not for sparing their fathers from facing police hating violent mobs? While also making sure your friend doesn’t end up with police violence on his hands?

Now, that’s family.

Lucius was  packing up the unfinished prototype plans when Tim rushed into the office. How he got through the stream of people evacuating the building, Lucius didn’t ask. He was a bit too busy.

Tim perked up when he saw Lucius and called him.

“There you are! Lucius, I need you in the meeting room right now.”

“What? Help me get this stuff out of here son, we’ll empty the upper rooms later.”

“No, I need you to help me make some papers. Legal papers.”

Lucius stopped shuffling papers and raised an eyebrow.

“You picked a bad day to forget your morning coffee Tim.”

“I’m awake, fully.“

“And you aren’t”, he put up air quotes quickly, “out there, because?”

Tim hesitated. “I’ve decided that I’m better off not getting in between them anymore.”

Lucius raised both his eyebrows now, to which Tim continued.

“People shouldn’t look at Robin and be scared. I don’t want people to stop believing in Robin because of this. And plus- I’m don’t know what’ll happen if I get in-between them. Too many variables. I might just mess it up even further.”

Lucius nodded, albeit reluctantly. “I guess I understand. But why are you here?”

“Well, I came to save the part of the family I actually can help. But I need you, a witness, and anyone who knows how to write up a half decent split-up contract.”

Both Oracle and Nightwing breathed a sigh of relief once the final street had been cleared. The mob made its way to Arkham successfully.

Though she loved to tease him, Nightwing was definitely at his limits. She had let him flop onto the last building the mob passed and he hadn’t moved since.

Her father was still making his slow drive through Newtown and she could almost hear his cursing from the Clocktower.

Robin had signed off a while ago, saying he would make sure the Wayne Tower was safe. She really hadn’t wanted him involved in this, so she was grateful to whatever had ended up changing his mind.

Batman had refused any contact with her for a while now, so she only knew his location but not his plan.

She wasn’t surprised to see he had spent almost the entire time in Arkham.

Which left Barbara with a finished job, and a feeling of unease. The cameras of the Joker cell were mysteriously cut, so she was blind there.

Now came the part of the job Barbara liked least.

Hoping for the best.

Chapter Text

Joker’s cell was a small brightly lit square huddled away in the very depth of Arkham’s lowest floor. It had a reinforced door, no openings, unpickable lock, 5 different security systems, steel bars going into all four walls and a fingerprint scanner.

The hallway to the room was spacious, seeing as the whole floor was only dedicated to this one, lowly cell.

Bruce knows this, as Bruce funded it. Funded digging the entire floor, made the cell specs. It had worked for a short while, a glorious half a year that Bruce spent Joker free. Well. As Joker free as one could get when every night is spent waiting for the next escape.

It was in that hallway that Bruce now stood, as immovable as a mountain, staring down the sea of people that had filled the room.

In front of them was an eighteen year old boy. Sweat dripped down the side of his pale face, but he didn’t seem to notice. No amount of sweat or pain would douse the fire in his eyes. At least that hadn’t changed.

Too many things had.

Jason didn’t look surprised to find Batman there. His expression turned meaner, and he took a step forward while signaling the crowd stay back. Leaving them at the start of the corridor, Jason walked slowly to the middle of the corridor and gestured at the crowd with his arm.

“Visitors here to see the prisoner!” He dropped the arm. “Move out of the way.”

Looking behind Jason, Bruce saw the angry sneering mob slowly spilling into the hall. From the weapons, to their uncountable numbers, Bruce simply shook his head.

“I don’t listen to lynch mobs. Not even from you.”

That caused Jason’s face to spasm. “A lynch mob Batman? Grieving mothers, orphaned children, mutilated teachers, disabled doctors, broken everyday people, all of them, asking YOU, begging for justice, for peace of mind, and you call that a lynch mob?!”

“They’re asking for something I can’t give.”

You’re asking for something I can’t give.

“What? I thought you were vengeance. I thought you swore to protect us.”

Some people yelled in support of Jason’s words. 

“Yeah! You were supposed to be the hero!”

“We trusted you-you bastard!”

“Get the hell out of our city traitor.”

Jason tilted his head to the side. “Listen to your people Batman. This is what they all want. “

“Or is it what you want, simply spread through their anger.”

After a raised eyebrow Jason shrugged. “They’re all here of their own will. You can’t ignore that. You can’t hide behind the ‘right thing’ when we’re surrounding you on all sides. “ Jason caught Bruce’s eyes in a sudden, direct, earnest stare. “This no longer involves you. We don’t want you here.”

I don’t want you here.

Bruce stood his ground.

It was all he had left at this point. He was a skilled fighter, he was a notable negotiator, but one cannot overpower thousands of civilians, and, more tragically, he cannot turn his son away from this bloody path.

He can only hope to prevent it.

No one other than Bruce truly understands why Jason was a great Robin.

They can’t know. The bright boy had so rarely fought besides anyone else. Alfred comes the closest of course, but even he was not out in the field with them, he didn’t see with his own eyes how Jason fought.

Dick was more elegant. Dick did everything with a boyish joy and a skilled flare.

Tim is far more practical than either of them. What he lacked in Dick’s natural charm he made up for in reliability and tactics.

Bruce gets so many compliments on both of them. On Dick’s leadership, on Tim’s ingenuity, on Nightwing’s kindness and on Robin’s maturity. And for all of those Bruce nods, smiles to himself, and nurtures as hope that they can be so much more than Bruce ever was.

Which is why it hurts so much knowing Jason never got many compliments.

Because no one got to see what Bruce saw those beautiful three years of his life.

Jason’s way of fighting was instinctual. He would assess the situation in a second and fight in whatever way he though was best at the moment. It made him harder to work with at first, Bruce could never predict whether the boy was going to fight like it was a street brawl or if he would use the complicated martial arts moves he was taught that week. Maybe he’d even break out a bunch of marbles and spill them everywhere to trip people up.

Bruce kept trying to train a more predictable response in him. He might as well have given up at the start. Jason did as Jason thought best.

What kept Bruce from stopping him entirely was the fact Jason’s method rarely failed.

Being unpredictable for Bruce meant he was unpredictable for anyone. The peak of their partnership was probably when Bruce realized forcing Jason to adapt to Bruce was rather pointless. Instead, Bruce changed his method. He’d let Jason determine their pace and then quickly adapted to it, finding their combined switch in tactic an extremely effective tool.

Jason wasn’t as happy as Dick, he wasn’t as tactical as Tim, he was neither stronger nor faster than them.

But fighting next to Jason made Bruce truly, fully feel alive.

It was infectious, how much Jason loved his role. He loved the chase, he loved the quips, he loved seeing victims saved and taken home, he loved every little word of thanks thrown his way because it told him he did something good. That he was neither worthless nor hopeless. That he could be more than just a parasite on society.

And through Jason’s growing self-confidence Bruce’s own love of the city seemed to double.

Bruce always found purpose in protecting Gotham, and he always will. In his worst nights he still gets up and protects his city. Dick had made those nights less heavy, he had shown Bruce that there was light in the world that could make Gotham brighter if they just let it in.

But Jason made those worst nights feel like they were worth it. It made Bruce want to believe things could be better. If Dick was the one who showed Bruce there was light, Jason was the one who made Bruce truly feel it. Fueled by that, Bruce would fight until he was torn to pieces, he would follow Jason till the end of the world.

That’s why he knows he won’t talk Jason down. Because Jason inspires people to follow him into the depths of Hades itself with nothing but infectious passion.

In truth, Jason was never going to adapt to Bruce’s compromise of retrial. He wanted Bruce to adapt to him.

Bruce found a strange quiet comfort in how some things hadn’t changed. Like a sinking lifeboat against the tsunami of grief he felt about all the choices he has to make.

At least now he knows, no matter what happens, the parts of Jason that made him so brilliant are alive. That makes all these nights Bruce has spent since his death worth it. He got to see his son again.

Now hee refuses to let any part of Jason die again. He refuses to let Jason forever mark himself as a murderer. It will change some part of him, he might lose some of that passion that made him love life.

Bruce stood his ground.

Jason’s eyes lowered to the floor. His entire frame deflated with a soft exhale, a look of cold acceptance painting his face.

Slowly he raised his head. Gave Bruce one last second of a look. He half turned to the people at his back and spoke without hesitation.

“Get him.”

They poured in like liquid. For a second Bruce reached to pull Jason out of the way but stopped when the sea parted around Jason perfectly, all of them advancing on Batman in a manner of seconds. He lost sight of him after that.

Batman caught the first baseball bat swung his way and knocked the holder out quickly with a headbut.

 The next man came at him weaponless, Batman threw him over his back at an advancing couple of people. He used electric batarangs to take care of larger advancing groups. Glue bombs. Pepper spray discharge. Wire-traps. On and on and on, he knocked people out and pulled or threw them out of harm’s way, quickly filling out the corridor with unconscious bodies. Still, they kept coming.

 They never stopped coming.

For every 10 another 50 came. Every body that was taken out of the corridor was replaced by a new one in seconds. And with every second Bruce kept getting pushed into the corner.

Eventually Bruce ran out of gadgets, he ran out of stamina and he could no longer keep on trying not to break the bones of the untrained civilians that kept coming at him.

Eventually someone got a lucky hit. It bruised his ribs. Someone got another one, electric eskrima smashing across his face. Knocked a tooth out. Little by little Batman, the mortal man who had faced alien kings, universal warlords and nightmares in flesh, that paragon of determination, crumbled. Surrounded by the wrath of weak but united people.

He was slammed into a wall, rained upon with bats and crowbars, fists and legs until finally his leg was broken and he could no longer stand. Before they could continue Jason’s voice called out: “Hold him!”

Once again the people parted to let him through. Jason seemed unharmed, holding a pack of zip ties he had gotten from Lucius. Bruce was huddled at the end of a wall, broken and bruised, but he still struggled as they clipped his arms behind his back.

With Batman held down by four people and his limbs secured Jason stepped back and assessed the scene. He didn’t go to the cell immediately, choosing instead to have the unconscious bodies taken outside first. In the fifteen minutes it took to clear the hallway Bruce had caught his breath and felt every aching bone and bruise even more now that the adrenaline pulled out of his body.

Jason tilted his head up so he could look him in the eye.

“Satisfied then? You asked for this.”

Someone from the back, a man with a black eye came up and flicked a butterfly knife.

“Let’s kill the bastard! We can bury him and the clown together.”

Only because they were this close Bruce could tell that the look in Jason’s eyes was calculated, evenly measured to appear cold. To mask how the suggestion made Jason’s grip tighten.

“No. He needs to see this, we only kill the clown.”

For the first time the crowd didn’t seem to jump in agreement with Jason’s words but most nodded, and some simply seemed displeased. No one protested though. A guard reached for his mask instead, which Jason stopped as well.

“I don’t recommend that. It’s boobytraped. One touch and you’ll end up with the other guys outside.”

The guard flinched his hand back.

Letting Bruce go Jason gestured for two of the guards to hold Bruce up and they dragged him to the cell door. His broken leg screamed in protest but Bruce didn’t make a peep. At the door, Jason removed one of Bruce’s gloves and pressed his fingertips to the pad, grave face shined by the green ‘approved’ light that flashed across screen.

The door opened.

The mob at Jason’s back was now all red, in clothing and in face, all rushing forward to look at the monster that they had come to slay.

Only to be greeted with an empty white room.

 Jason walked in, looked at the room, at the undone restraints and the lack of clown.

“Now this is a joke. “

He turned to Batman with fury in his eyes and snarl. Two short strides and Jason pulled his arm back, didn’t even correct his footing and threw a punch across Bruce’s already hurt jaw. Now, he may be retired but he still had a hell of a punch.

“Where. Where did you hide that pathetic excuse for a human.”

The guards holding him started pushing Bruce around, telling him to answer the question, but Bruce kept his lips tight. Jason shouted at them to stop, taking a few breaths to calm himself.

Bruce found it interesting Jason was so surprised to find the room empty when he walked inside without a single weapon in hand.

“You can crack every bone in his body. He won’t talk.”

The crowd got loud after that, those in the back asking what was going on, those at the front shouting pointless suggestions of either torture or vengeance. Jason stayed silent, it seemed he wasn’t listening to anyone but thinking. Then, faster than he walked before he pushed passed Bruce.

“Which one of you has a gun?”

Everyone shut up at that. A gangly man stepped forward, gang markings over his arms and gun tucked in a holster. He gave it to Jason skeptically.

“You know how to use that kid?”

Jason gave him a cold grin and simply moved forward, gesturing for them to bring Bruce along. People gazed at him confused but let him pass, through the door, up the building and to the main door. However, when he noticed that Gordon had finally arrived in front Jason turned on his heel and kept going upwards.

There was no one on the roof, not even wind passing by.

Bellow them were the loud yells of one commissioner Gordon as he tried to clear out the mob to reach the building. He was too far away to matter.

“Bring Batman here. On his knees.”

Doing as told Bruce was dragged to the middle of the roof and Jason walked up next to him. The boy inspected the gun, checked the bullets, clicked off the safety and put the cold tip onto Bruce’s temple.

“You’re a real hypocrite sometimes. No metas in Gotham except when you alone can’t keep a homicidal maniac alive, huh B?”

“I won’t call him back.”

“Even with a gun to your head? Is it worth dying for him B?”

No.

And it was a sad fact, but Bruce was playing a blind bet.

Because so much had changed. And so much had not.

The Jason Bruce had known wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. The Jason Bruce had known would con and scam but he didn’t have it in his heart to permanently hurt someone he thought of as good.

But if that was another thing that had changed then Bruce would die trying to stop his son from becoming a murderer.

Bruce stayed silent.

Jason shook his head. “I wish there was a way to convince you B. Fuck me but after all this time I still really do.”

With a switch in expression Jason glared at the sky and yelled out to seemingly nobody:

“I know you can hear us Superman! Bring us the clown and I’ll let you get Batman out of here! If you don’t-“, Jason pushed the gun harshly against Bruce’s temple. “I’ll do something to make the clown come to me.”

Everyone on the roof stayed silent. He looked slightly crazy like that, screaming at nothing and not having anyone respond. Vicki’s cameraman had successfully pushed himself into the crowd, and broadcast the events live. Jason tried again.

“You have 10 seconds boyscout! Either bring him here or start planning a funeral!”

When Jason had pushed that statue over the Justice League watched in panic laced silence.

Diana was one of the few that didn’t seem surprised at the outpour of anger. Her lips were pinched but mostly in grim acceptance of the situation.

“He incited the anger of his own people by his actions. This is a lack of leadership and nothing else. Batman truly is to blame.”

The others seemed apprehensive to cast judgment as strongly as Diana did. Most of all Superman who was offended on his friends behalf.

“He did the best he could. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Jason is the one who incited this.”

“Jason simply gave a spark to a mountain of anger that has pilled for far too long. Bruce failed to prove to his people he would protect them. Now they flock to one that has proved he will do what Batman will not.” Diana nodded. “As would I in their place.”

“You can’t mean that Diana. It’s illegal, it’s against what the court ruled. It wouldn’t be justice, just cold hearted murder.”

“What good is your court if it refuses to do what everyone knows is necessary? If abiding by the rules you now have in place is all that is needed, why do you not let robots give out rulings? Are judges not human exactly so they can give punishment from the perspective of the people?”

“There was no judgment. It goes to retrial.”

“And in so the court told its people guilty men can confess and it will still not act.”

Jumping in to try and ease the tension, Green Arrow knocked his hand against the table.

“As much as I love to hear you two discuss issues of the modern court system, which is none by the way, could I direct your attention to the fact Gotham is about to go up in a puff of smoke?”

At this Superman nodded.

“You’re right. If Bruce doesn’t call we should head down there ourselves and help contain the crowd. “

“You think the territorial bastard will like that?”

“Well no, but we do have a priority above all. That’s to help people, and if Gotham has a city wide riot we have to act. “Clark shook his head. “Though I really hope he gives us a call. It would help prevent a lot of headaches.”

And as if summoned the League telephone did ring, a mere fifteen minutes later.

Batman didn’t activate the video feed, so it was just his voice suddenly summoning them around the table.

“Superman, are the core members all there? ”

“Flash, Manhunter and a few others are covering for us earth-side. The rest of us are here though, tell us what you need.”

“I need all of you to stay out of Gotham.”

The Leaguers all looked at each other, perplexed at the illogical order.

“Batman.” Wonder Woman’s voice was harsh, slightly judging. “Your city is under great threat. Though the threat is internal it is still our duty to save civilians. We cannot simply stand by.”

“You can, and you will.”

“Do not be a fool Batman.”

“What exactly do you think will happen Diana? That you’ll show up and the angry hero hating mob simply stops being angry? That they all become rational if Superman shows up? “

“We can help contain-“

“I’m not the only territorial Gothamite. If they see the League interfering in Gotham business it will just add more fuel to the fire. You think this is violent? What do you think it’ll look like when people start throwing themselves at Clack and breaking their bones with every punch? I’ll say it again. I don’t want any interference in the mob. Stand down.”

Diana looked at the phone with narrowed eyes and sneer clear as day. Offended, or maybe just annoyed, she walked away from the table muttering about stubborn men.

Clack tried next, in a less confrontational tone.

“I understand Bruce. We won’t help with the mob for now.”

“For now?”

“It’s not a crisis just yet. So we won’t interfere. But if it actually turns bad, we will come. “

“It won’t help-“

“If you don’t want us in the city that bad Bruce then make sure it doesn’t come to it. Other than that I can’t promise more my friend, I’m sorry.”

A cold silence came from the other side. After a few heartbeats Bruce ground out an affirmative. Superman let out a breath of relief, which accidentally blew away the papers they kept on the meeting table. He sent his fellow members a sheepish smile and let Green Arrow take over while he picked them up.

“Hey Batsy, I know you’re busy and all but I was wondering if Bruce Wayne is aware someone is playing hot potato with his stocks. My advisor just left me like five messages telling me to sell what stock I have in WI before I lose all I invested.”

“I didn’t call for financial advice Arrow.”

“Well that’s good, cause if I was in the hole you’re in now I’d be asking God not my financial advisor. “

Superman came back to his seat then, a eyebrows scrunched.

“What did you call for Bruce? If it was just to stay away you could have sent a message. Is there a way we can help?”

Batman seemed to pause for a few seconds, a long time by bat standards when it came to issuing orders, before saying:

“I need you to take Joker out of Arkham and take him up to the Watchtower.”

Now that caused everyone present to go wide eyed.

“You want us to move him?”

“Now hold on Batsy, what happened to not interfering.”

“That will certainly anger your people beyond reason.”

“I’m aware. But there isn’t a place I can hide him in Gotham, not when everyone wants his head. Once they see he isn’t here Jason will do everything to find him, but he’s on a time limit. People won’t stay this angry for long, he’ll lose his main support if we just wait him out. “

“And in the meantime we should just sit back and watch him burn Gotham to the ground?”

“No. At worst he’ll destroy a few of the buildings in the richer areas, he won’t let Gotham burn. If that was what he wanted he would have done it already.”

“And what about you?”

Bruce let out a quick sigh, the conversation seemed to be going on for far longer than he wanted. “I imagine he’ll either take me prisoner or let me go.”

Clark looked to Ollie with a mirrored worried expression.

“You imagine? That doesn’t sound like you Batman.”

“He won’t kill me if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“No offense Bruce, and I really do mean it, but your boy looks ready to tear everything in his path apart with his own hands and teeth. And- he didn’t seem too happy during the family reunion. You can’t know he won’t-“

“Are you saying I don’t know my son Arrow?”

Quiet came over both sides of the conversation.

Bruce’s tone told them all enough, he wasn’t going to budge on this. Arrow lifted both hands in a ‘I give up gesture’ and let Superman go again.

“Alright Bruce. We’ll trust you on this.”

“Good. Jason will probably realize what we did, and he’ll try anything to get you to bring Joker back. Don’t listen to it.”

“Even if-“

“No matter what. I need you to swear to me Kal, you won’t give Jason what he wants. Whatever it is he’s doing, it’ll be a bluff. Don’t. Listen. To. Him.”

Jason’s countdown had reached number three when Superman appeared in the sky and lowered himself to the roof slowly.

His feet hovered above the roof , giving him the air of superiority he always had. The worry in his face was as clear as the superiority was.

Jason’s grip on the gun tightened on reflex, eyes set in a glare when he noticed he hadn’t brought Joker along with him.

“I told you to bring the clown.”

Superman slowly let his feet onto solid ground and raised his hands in a placating manner.

“I can’t do that Jason. We’ve placed him under our protection.”

A surge of anger went through Bruce at the words, Clark was doing exactly what Bruce had asked him not to do. Giving them anymore ammunition to hate heroes was unacceptable.

“Your protection? Where the hell was this stellar protection when he was maiming people? You’ve stayed out of our business until now alien, stay the hell out of them now.”

“The Justice League has a code of conduct, we don’t support mob violence. I understand this is frustrating, and that the system is imperfect but-”

One of Jason’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance. “I didn’t ask for a fucking civics lesson. This isn’t a negotiation, this is an ultimatum. You have two options big guy. Option A is to bring the clown here and we all go our marry way. Option B is to not do that and I pull the trigger.” Bruce felt the gun scrape across his temple a bit as Jason’s shoulders shrugged. “There is no other option. “

“There always another option son.”

“Don’t call me son.”

“You don’t want to do this.”

“I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t.”

Clark’s eyes flew to Bruce’s masked ones, panic clear as day.

“Both of your options end with you becoming a murderer Jason. I refuse to believe those are the only ways this can end. You were, you are, a good kid. “ He nodded from Jason to Bruce. “Your father said you were the best. “

Bruce couldn’t see but he felt Jason freeze for a moment.

“Don’t throw true justice away in anger. You, and all the victims here deserve to truly have justice served. “

“We tried. Unless you’ve been under a space rock they let him get away.” One of his hands pushed at Bruce’s shoulder. “Because of him.”

“It isn’t over yet.”

“It will be. I’m not waiting for another kangaroo court. We’ve waited long enough for your justice. And just like every so-called hero, it’s too late to matter.”

Jason took a deep breath and stabilized his stance next to Bruce.

“Time’s up. Are you brining the clown or not?”

Clark stayed silent, albeit he sent Bruce a panicked glance.

“Five.”

“I-“

“Four.”

“He doesn’t deserve this Jason.”

“Three.”

“You aren’t going to accomplish anything, they-“

“Two.”

Just before Clark did something desperate Bruce cut in.

“You’ll spit on the graves of every victim if you don’t let this go through court.”

“…One.”

“All of them. Every single person who was hurt, or lost someone, instead of their stories being the reason he is brought down, it’ll just be you and a handful of his victims. Is that enough? Is that justice?”

Jason had reached zero but he answered anyway. “You have no right- I took him to court so it would be equal.”

“So now you’ve given up?”

“We won’t wait another three months for nothing to happen.”

“I thought you were willing to do anything.”

Jason’s face turned angrier and Clark decided it was his turn to cut in.

“Ok. Ok then. Don’t wait. How about another solution? Where you don’t have to wait and it isn’t done outside the system.”

“There isn’t one.”

“There has to be. There’s a lot of really smart noodles here, and if we all put our heads together we can come up with one! Just don’t do something you can’t take back before we even try!”

Jason went silent for a bit. Things seemed to slow down, a slight breeze flickered across the roof.

“What if we made it legal. Would let us have him then?”

A confused expression crossed Superman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“You said every victim should have a chance to speak right? Except, there’s so many of us you might as well go door to door. So- why not. Let everyone say what they want. Every Gothamite above eighteen to come and vote for it. A city wide jury for the city wide nightmare. If they let him live, I’ll accept it. But if they vote him dead- you can’t interfere. In any way, shape or form, you bring him back to face judgment.”

“That’s- a city wide referendum.”

“It’s fair. Democracy and the land of the free right?”

Superman hesitated. He could see Bruce shaking his head no, he knows this isn’t somehitng he can just take back. If he agrees here, in front of all these people, the JL will have to see it through. But if Jason shoots-

Clark took a look at both their heartbeats and felt truly exasperated to find both of them calm and steady. They both felt like they were in control.

“Well then. There’s your option ‘C’ Superman. What’s it going to be?”

So you see, Batman and Superman have been friends for many years. And Clark refuses to risk his friend in a conflict that could be calmed with words and time. A vote is at least fair, and it would let the Gothamite’s feel like the JL wasn’t their enemy. It would give them time to choose the best course of action.

Clark sighed and he took the deal on behalf of the entire Justice League.

Hearing the words Jason’s heartbeat finally went wild. He backed away from Bruce and let Superman collect his injured friend who stared after his son long after the two flew away from the asylum.

After Superman flew away Jason went to the edge of the Asylum roof and looked upon the loud chaotic crowd below. The police had broken through into the middle and it was all three seconds away from becoming a blood bath.

Jason moved his hand to his lips and made the loudest whistle Bruce had taught him to make.

It didn’t reach far but it reached those closest. Their sudden stillness spread through the crowd like a ripple until it reached the very edges.

Jason spread his arms wide.

“The Joker isn’t here. He got taken away by the Justice League.”

The crowd did not like that. Random shouts of confusion and anger could be heard throughout. Jason lowered his hands and continued.

“They asked me to let it go.”

“Don’t listen to them!”

“Let us at both of the clown lovers!”

A slowly raised hand got the shouts to stop.

“I know. I told them they can all go to hell. But they want things to be legal you see. They believe in democracy.”

The words sunk into the crowd for a few seconds.

“And you know what? We did try that! We did, we got a confession, we got a confirmation of sanity. And we still lost.”

The wind picked up a little bit, making Jason raise his voice over the whistle.

“They want us to lose! They want us to just get this out of our system and admit defeat because we lost a rigged game! Well, we refuse, don’t we?”

A second of silence before a scream of ‘that’s right’ came from the crowd, followed by a chorus of agreements and support.

“That’s right. We’re done playing that game. That’s why I just made an agreement with Superman himself. They want democracy? Then we will give them democracy. A city wide vote for the soul of a mass murderer. Every Gothamite above the age of 18 will have the right to say exactly what they want.”

The crowd seemed unsure, hesitant. Jason hammered the point harder.

“With every vote, you yourself put a nail in his casket. You’re all tired, and aggravated and heartbroken. Fight this fight one more day, with me, for all of us. So that we can all have a funeral we dance at. Be the jury that maniac deserves.”

The crowd closest, a lot of the people who had followed after Jason first, many of the ones who had woken from their fight with Batman, seemed to believe in his words fastest. They started up the shouts of support again.

“Superman himself swore in the name of the Justice League. They don’t have the right to keep the Joker away. I swear to you, on my life, I won’t stop until this is done. So then let’s end this, once and for all! Let’s vote him to hell!”

The shouts got louder and louder until even the tired and unsure got carried into the chant, until Vicki reported her next big headline, until Gordon lit up a new cigar and wondered what this would bring.

Dick listened to the chant through his coms and wondered if voting counted as taking sides.

Barbara watched over her live feed and wondered if he’d let her oversee the vote.

Tim watched Vicki’s report from the company meeting room and wondered how Batman agreed to a checkmate.

Alfred listened to the feed and wondered if he should disassemble the memorial case.

Jason listened to the surrounding cheers and enjoyed the wonder.

Three days later, a Tuesday.

A Tuesday that went down into history as Gotham’s largest voter turnout ever.

The first vote was Jason’s.

On the insistence of the mayor of course, all publicized and shared across the world. Jason hadn’t minded, it didn’t matter, until a long black limo pulled up at the building. The largest head in all of America walked out of it, when measured in ego of course, and flashed a bright wide grin at the cameras, and an even bigger one at Jason.

Lex rushed up to Jason and threw a warm arm around his shoulders, shook him a bit as if they were the oldest of pals.

“Jason my boy, wonderful work!”

And the cameras clicked and clicked and caught this surprisingly wholesome moment. As long as you ignore Jason wide eyed doe stare.

After this Lex went on to give teary eyed inspirational speeches about his long support of Jason’s cause, about his hopes for Gotham and his belief in justice only being achievable by ending the Joker for good.

You see, the mayor is good at marketing. That’s why he and Lex are such good friends when the situation demands.

Birds of a feather flock together.

While Lex schmoozed the larger Gotham public Jason pulled Talia away for any explanation.

“What is he doing here?!”

“Getting his payment I suppose.”

“What, making sure he wins Gotham’s most eligible bachelor next?”

Talia raised an eyebrow at the obvious question. “To divide and conquer a market Lex Corp could never reach.”

Jason stared at the nearby Wayne Industries building and heard a few marbles click against each other in his head.

-----------------------------------------

The vote was a long process, a twelve hour rush of people. But perhaps it was longest for the man who was laid up in a hospital bed on the Watchtower.

Batman hadn’t said a thing since it started, and it didn’t seem he would.

Wonder Woman thought he was stewing in a quiet rage.

Superman thought it was processing the grief of everything that happened. Then again, he wouldn't know since Bruce refused to even look at him.

His two friends stayed next to him either way. Clark just stayed a few rooms away.

“It is for the better this way Bruce. You have held back their anger and rage for a long time, and you are still a hero for all you have done. But the dam was going to burst in one way, or another. At least like this, it is a directed anger. “

Bruce didn’t say anything. She leaned over from her chair and grasped his hand, forced his fist apart and squeezed slightly.

“It is time to forfeit my friend. Allow the human part of you to finally breathe a sigh of relief. “

“…I’ve failed him. I let him become a murderer.”

Diana shook her head. “No. You taught him to look for justice, and he has done so. He has done better than you.”

Bruce’s eyes finally left the screen in front of him and found Diana’s. She gave him a small smile.

“You are a good man but not perfect. In this, I dare say your son has a soul of a true warrior of justice, kind and unyielding. You have already lost Batman. Let Bruce rejoice.”

Bruce’s lips tightened before he let his face relax with a sigh.

One thing that will never change, Bruce will always love hearing people praise his kids.

Jason stared up at the Clocktower.

The Clocktower stared right back.

He could see the door, and the heavy grade lock on it, and wondered if there was a protocol here.

The camera above the door shifted up and down. Jason gave it a hesitant wave before dramatically pulling at the door uselessly and then slumping over in defeat. She must have enjoyed his little show because it buzzed open next.

Once he got in, he was very glad he hadn’t broken in himself. The place was decked out in more security than a central bank and more confusing than a construction manual.

He just followed the magically opening doors until they led him to an elevator. It closed on its own, and even chose the floor for him, so Jason took the time he was traveling to calm the shake in his hands.

He should have been here sooner. He shouldn’t have come at all.

The elevator door opened into a lair.

A tech filled, screen lit, green tinted lair, with a single red head stealing away all of Jason’s attention from everything else.

They stared at each other for a moment. Jay came right after the vote, he refused to wear anymore suits and went in a jeans and hoodie despite Talia’s nagging.

Now he sorta wished he had listened. He felt every bit the punk she always said he was.

Babs wheeled over to him, as close as she could. Looked up at him ,blinked, pulled her arm back and punched him in the stomach.

Now, Batgirl may be retired but she still has a hell of a punch.

Jay doubled over from the unexpected pain and became utterly bewildered when Barbara used his lowered position to drag him by the shoulders and into a tight hug.

It took him a few seconds to hug back, what with the lost breath and all.

Babs gave off a muffled, watery laugh into his shoulder.

“That was for the manipulated evac you punk.”

Jay gave off his own broken little laugh and fully melted into the hug.

“ ’m sorry. “

“Good. Cause I missed you too much to stay mad.”

He hugged her a bit harder after that.

Dick climbed into the Clocktower two hours after voting was finished. He found both Oracle and the reason she didn’t answer any of his calls on her sofa, snug under her red blanket. They were huddled like two birds and Dick felt the irresistible urge to take pictures.

Both of them noticed of course, and Dick got a set of identical scowls on his photo.

“You two must think you’re so smart, snuggling here while I’m flying over the whole freaking city.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, which lost a bit of its effect when he was half hidden behind Babs’ curly hair.

“What have you even been doing?”

“Oh you know, making sure your army of voters didn’t start shooting each other.”

The younger brother waved his hand dismissively.

“Talia has her men on it, you shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Right, the great assassin peacekeepers. How could I forget. They’d never let people get hurt.”

Jason rolled his eyes and it brought a smile to Dick’s face. The joking mood felt like healing balm after days of nothing but burn wounds.

“Say Jay, I saw a real great photo of you today.”

He pulled up his phone to the younger and flashed the picture of Lex and Jay from the first vote, grinning at Jason’s agonized expression.

“That goddamn fame seeking power hungry balloon-“

“Don’t be like that Jay! Look, the sun is reflecting so much off his ego you basically look like you have a halo!”

Jason buried his head into Babs shoulder and groaned .

The old exchange left the room feeling warmer, and Dick took it as permission to sit with them as they waited for the results of the vote.

Others in Gotham did the same. Most huddled around their TV’s, their radios and phones. Some commented endlessly, others placed bets on the results, and some even prayed.

In Bristol Tim sat next to Alfred, tired and beyond worried at what tomorrow would look like. Alfred squeezed Tim’s shoulder when his thoughts spiraled to their worst and endlessly kept reassuring the boy of family’s love. That along with Alfred’s calm and firm belief made the night bearable. As for Alfred himself, he knocked on wood and spent the night with the grandson who needed him most then.

Bruce didn’t watch the vote. He said he already knew the results.

The night stretched on.

Kids fell asleep.

The clock chimed one in the morning.

Vicki came out with a special report.

The vote of life and death came down to an 88 percent in favor of the death penalty.

All of Gotham screamed in joy.

People ran to their rooftops and cheered, you could open a window and listen to happiness in a pure excited form. People banged on pots and played music from speakers. A few loud bangs came from different directions, some from guns being fired and some from store bought fireworks.

Jason didn’t outwardly react at first. He stared at the TV long after the announcement, as if he didn’t hear the results. After a minute he turned to Dick and then Barbara slowly, and whispered:

“I won?”

Babs nodded.

Dick seemed uncertain but decided after a moment to take a closer seat to Jason and let his body weight rest on him a little bit, as substitute for the hug he really wanted to give. Jason seemed dazed still, when he leaned back into the weight.

As if the lights in his head turned back on a smile, a wide teeth filled one spread on Jason face.

“I won.”

Chapter Text

You’d think a man’s last meal would be a bit more dramatic than some soup and crusty bread.

Why, at least bring some lobster.

Caviar.

A glass of wine to raise to all the grand things he has done across the years. To every laugh and achievement and extravaganza of fun.

He’s been Gotham’s solo entertainer for so long after all.

Oh sure, there were other acts.                                                                                                                                   

There were Scarecrow’s little experiments that turned fright into snore by his third day. There were Penguin’s and Two Face’s dramas of greed and delusion that only succeeded in making gun ownership skyrocket. Riddler’s games of pride and prejudice against the mentally inferior. There was Freeze’s theater of tragedy, of love lost and obsessed and enough melodrama to make a man drown in his own tears.

Yes, there were other acts.                                                                                                                                                 

Acts that, one by one, fizzled out into further and further obscurity. Funny little opening acts and nothing else.

Joker didn’t put on shows.

He made the whole of Gotham his theater. Every man, woman and child an actor, and a prop when need be of course.

Everyone was equal, and no one left behind.

Well, except for the two of them. The ones who drive all of Gotham forward and backward. They make the story worth writing and reading.

The story of Joker and Batman, the undying duo.

And Joker demanded what he’s owed!

Chairs at filled tables, favorite pals and gals all invited.  Speeches given in his name, tears in their eyes and smiles on their lips. And him, the guest of honor. Telling his jokes one last time. Ending it all with a bow.

‘A good show don’t you think? I’m afraid I won’t be doing an encore this time though. I have an appointment with the big guy.’

And the audience laughs. Batman comes along to take Joker away. Laughter become louder and ricochets all around. And they don’t even have to bring the electric chair, Joker has a heart attack when he sees that Batman laughs as he drags Joker along.

Finally, everyone laughed with him.

But then the scene fades, Joker opens his eyes to the pasty white cell he alone sits in and stares at the soup in front of him. The only laughter in that cell is his own.

But that’s ok. After all, he still had time. He had all the time in the world, and his little death day banquet would happen when the time actually came.

It just wouldn’t be today.

Batman would make sure of it.

No doubts, no fears, no questions about it.

The two of them, they’re the only ones who can end the story. That’s all there is to it.

‘This is Vicki Vale, reporting to you live in front of Blackgate prison.

It’s been a turbulent week in Gotham, but it seems that today their demands will finally be met. In Blackgate prison, even as we speak, the electric chair is being set up. To look further into the consequences today’s execution might have we have with us here today an expert in criminal law whom you all know as the prosecutor of the very trial that started all this.

‘Prosecutor Bait. Hello sir.’

‘Hello miss Vale.’

‘Tell us, what were your reactions at the very end of the trial?’

‘Mostly, I was disgusted. Any sane, rational man could tell he was guilty. Why, the case was obvious from the beginning. Still, as is clear now, my disappointment was shared by many. It wasn’t how I wanted us to get here, I am a gear in the large machine of Gotham’s judicial system. I truly wish it had all been done through the court, to show its power. Never the less, I am glad the people refused to let the courts become a mockery. It was ugly, but justice will still prevail, and that’s all that matters.’

‘Some experts are claiming that the vote shouldn’t matter and that it should still be considered illegal. Your thoughts?’

‘Absurd notions of people who watch from the sidelines. Laws are made by people. The people have, in an overwhelming majority stated their opinion. A new law is made. Case closed.’

‘Do you believe this will have an effect on our courts?’

‘If we’re lucky, yes. It will help cull the rampant ‘super-crime’ in a direct way. The office has already gotten multiple charges raised against other Arkham criminals, and hopefully this will help put an end to monsters like Dollmaker and the Mad Hatter.’

‘That’s a very aggressive stance. Most are hesitant to agree to such a policy.’

‘Change always inspires fear miss Vale. What we need is leadership that isn’t afraid to make the hard choices.’

‘By which I presume you mean yourself? There’s talk of you running for the DA’s office in the next run. ‘

‘Well, we will have to wait and see. Wouldn’t want to jinx anything.’

A girl appeared next to mister Bait, like a wraith out of thin air, and hooked him round the arm. She smiled a big smile at the camera.

‘Sorry ladies but mister prosecutor is officially taken. Oh, and you all better vote for him too!’

The screen cut to black after that.

Lex sat in his new office chair with the air of a cat that caught its canary.

It wasn’t as grand as it could be, it was only a partner’s office after all. Oh so close to the top floor, which was unfortunately just beyond his reach for the moment.

Soon enough though. Wayne stocks kept plummeting slowly and no one was quicker to take advantage than Lex.

After all, Lex had some insider information. He was on his phone the moment Wayne took the stand and the profit from this little side venture has been immense. And to think, all it took was one of Wayne’s own brats needing a bit of help.

He would have to remember to send Talia a gift basket soon.

Not only did he secure himself a large part of Wayne Industries by throwing them a lifeline when they needed it most, his popularity in Gotham was rising once again. His last presidency didn’t end all that well, but Lex was never a quitter. He certainly had another shot at it now.

First though, he wanted to reach that top floor.

In theory easy enough. No matter how much ‘help’ Lex offered Wayne Industries was tanking. Not only did they lose a lot of the regular customers, a large number of their prototypes were destroyed in the march, and a large number of Wayne stores were vandalized. All Lex had to do was wait and the top floor would open to him soon enough, they just had to eject Wayne off the board.

Lex gave it a week tops.

And so, he sat in his office and watched Gotham from above.

That’s how his assistant found him, and she fidgeted until he finally acknowledged her with a sigh.

‘Report.’

‘Sir, an emergency board meeting his being held in an hour.’

Maybe a week was too generous.

‘Is Wayne attending?’

‘Um, no. He wasn’t the one who called it.’

‘What? Who other than Wayne even has the right to-‘

‘Timothy Drake sir, his acting CEO since the trial.’

Lex sighed, stood up and poured himself another glass of wine. Children. Why was this entire town run by children. They lead revolutions and apparently they run companies in their spare time. At least he didn’t have to deal with Wayne’s idiocy. From what Lex heard Drake was a prodigy, but no matter how well the boy flipped figures in his head Wayne wasn’t staying on the board.

Lex was a prodigy too. He knows where this is going, and no spoiled brat was taking it from him.

That was what Lex thought an hour ago.

An hour later Lex sat across the young man who single handedly stopped him from ever reaching that top office floor.

There was very little light in Joker’s temporary cell, but it was enough to make out the face of his new visitor.

“Little Robin~ Why, I wasn’t expecting to see you here! Come to give Uncle J a kiss goodbye?”

Jason stayed next to the door, far away from Joker’s shackled form on the other side of the cell. He had something in his hands, a familiar looking piece of metal.

“I came to say goodbye alright.”

The little light there was bounced off the crowbar as Jason stalked closer to Joker.

“I came to give you hell on earth before we send you to the real thing.”

“U, how dramatic! Does that make you the devil? Doesn’t go well with the whole hero of the people image you have going on kiddo.”

“Oh, I’m not doing this for them.”

Jason raised the crowbar high, the glint in his eye visible with next to the glint in the crowbar.

He arched his arm down. Up again. Down again. The crunch of bone, the dull thud of metal on meat, the clang of the metal restraints all drowning out the insane laughter that only stopped when Joker had to cough and wheeze.

On and on and on, until Jason could no longer swing, his leg refusing to hold him up any longer. He kneeled next to Joker’s prone form, specks of blood thrown all around. Still, the clown giggled through his broken teeth.

“…Great…job kiddo!- now you just gotta-finish it! Make me proud!”

“Shut it.”

“Come on! Daddy bats will be here soon you know~ you can leave me like a present. Tie my straight jacket like a big bow, make a show of it!”

Jason didn’t answer, taking time to breathe through his nose slowly. Joker doesn’t’ like being ignored.

“What’s wrong kiddo? Too much  of a coward after all huh? Too much like daddy even though you act like a tough guy. “ Every laugh hurt but who cared. “See kiddo that’s why you always lose! You gotta find a theme and stick to it! This whole middle ground thing is pathetic… Just like mommy was too, now that I think about it.”

He got the dull end of the crowbar into his ribs for that one.

“…she…couldn’t pick a side either”. A little blood makes the smile all the prettier. “Did crime…but still wanted people to treat her like a respectable lady-like she wasn’t scum like the rest of us! It was almost funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

Jason took the crowbar to his fingers next. Quick and painful he smashed all five like biscuits.

“And here you are, doing the same thing. You’re no hero kid. You never were~ I just wanted to show that to you, explain it. But it just wouldn’t get through your thick head! ”

The next blow didn’t come, kid’s leg gave out again.

“Poor little birdy, as useless as he always was. Nothing without the big bad bat at your back. “

The kid took a few breaths, “Yeah well”,  finally looked Joker straight in the eyes. “At least I know what it sounds like when he laughs.”

Silence.

No laughter, no wheezing, no breathing.

Jason leaned into his face as far as he could.

“Isn’t that funny Joker? You knew you were good for absolutely nothing. So you became the one thing everyone says useless people are for, a clown. “ Jason smiled, a feral Robin grin. “And you can’t even do that right. You could never make him laugh“

Jason slowly rose back to his feet.

“And now everyone will be laughing. Everyone, except you.”

Joker didn’t get a chance to reply before the crowbar smashed into his jaw. His pained, frowning face glaring in silence as Jason left the room.

Tim sat equal to Lex, across from him in fact, which was the first sign something had changed. The reason? Well.

“Mister Luthor, I don’t believe we’ve officially been introduced yet. “

“No, but formalities are rather reserved for us older gentleman Timothy. Please, take a seat. I presume you’re replacing Mister Wayne today?”

“Actually no. “

Lex raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion.

“Oh? Who are you representing then?”

“Drake Industries, CEO. Why mister Luthor, don’t tell me you haven’t heard?”

Luthor gave Tim a thin smile, but you could tell the lack of information was shortening his fuse by the second. That assistant of his was getting fired as soon as Lex left the room.

“It seems you have me at a disadvantage. I thought your company was merged with Wayne’s years ago.”

“Oh, it was. But as I have been working on reestablishing myself these days I decided to separate the company again. And right on time it would seem.” Tim gave him a smile of his own. “Opportunities like this appear very rarely after all.”

Yes. An opportunity only Lex should have been able to grab in fact. But as the meeting proceeded, the companies financial status outlined to everyone, Lex watched as Drake commanded the board as if it was his own immediately. And what’s worse they all looked to the child, rather than Luthor himself for answers.

Where Lex argued to boost the companies income immediately, Tim demanded they make a long term recovery plan as to secure at least half the jobs the company now offered instead. Where Lex would recommend focusing on their weapons development, Timothy argued for city reparation. When Lex offered his company take over a major part of the debt they were heading into, Drake only smiled and said it was taken care of.

And they kept listening to the teenager.

From what Lex could make out, the main reason was Lucius Fox, who first looked to Timothy’s opinion. The others followed suit and Lex was left unasked and overlooked.

Mostly, Luthor’s plan had come true. The company needed new leadership, and what’s more it would need a rebranding as well, if it ever intended to save itself.

What Luthor hadn’t predicted was that it would be Drake Industries that sat on top of the building instead his own name lit up in gold.

Back at the Gotham Hotel Talia lounged on her terrace and clicked her phone off with an annoyed sigh. Next to her Jason laid sprawled out on one of the chairs, freshly showered as to clean away the blood from his earlier excursion.

Talia hadn’t commented on his state when he came to her, bloody, shaky, lightheaded. She simply opened the door and offered some tea. He had done what he needed, now she could only hope it would bring him peace.

Once the clown was truly dead of course.

He must have heard her sigh however, and for the first time since coming there he spoke clearly.

“Hell of a phone call?”

“That is one way of putting it, yes. Luthor may be a man of millions of dollars but very easily does he turn into a child in need of throwing a temper tantrum.”

That seemed to perk the boy up. “Luthor’s pissed? Why?”

“Your replacement. He seems to have snatched what value there was in Wayne Industries out of his hands while Lex was busy admiring the view from his office. “

He seemed to chew on that knowledge a little bit, probably weighing his dislike of the replacement against his joy at Luthor’s suffering. In the end, suffering must have won because the boy grinned. He was doing that more lately.

“Karma. That’s what he gets for that awful photo of me.”

“And now I have to help him find a way to remove Timothy from the board. I shall have to tell my father of this, he’ll no doubt find Timothy driving Luthor out of the company amusing.

“Well.” He leaned back into the chair. “I’m just glad that has absolutely fucking nothing to do with me. Though I gotta give it to Bruce, bastard finally realized he didn’t have to even attend his own meetings. Ain’t child labor great?”

“He is paying for that now. His finances will take a rather large hit. “

“Good. Less Batmobiles, the less the police can rely on him. “

“I suppose. “

The two sat in an amicable silence for a while. Eventually Talia got up and continued to pack her things, the task Jason had interrupted when he walked in. Without being asked Jason joined her, cleaning out the weapons cages he knew were there.

That’s how the hours slowly trickled away, the two working in a rhythm they had perfected during their travels. There was a difference in the tone however. Neither of them rushed. There was no need to. Perhaps it was finally sinking in, the idea that their goal had been accomplished. That all the sleepless nights spent in lamp light, all the days spent traveling through the worst of nature as to escape the league, all the twilight spent wondering if any of it would be worth it, that all of it had not been spent in vain.

So slowly, they did this one ritual once more. Jason cleared the weapons while Talia grabbed the clothes. She arranged the transport while Jason packed their food. He inspected every corner of the room for anything left behind while Talia checked over all the cameras and electronics.

All wordlessly.

Finally, the room was cleared and it had been just them, and a question that demanded an answer.

“What will you do now?”

Jason’s green eyes stayed on the room, drawn to the view of Gotham below. Talia continued.

“…you have proven yourself capable of excellent spy work. My father would not object to you staying at my side, not now. It would not be a peaceful life but- you would never want for anything. “

“All the baklava I could eat huh?”

The little joke came easily to the boy, and it pleased her to see it. She came closer and straightened down the white bangs that refused to listen to any comb.

“All you could wish for.”

But Jason just shook his head, albeit seeming truly regretful.

“I belong here. I was born here, I should have died here too. I think that’s why it didn’t stick that first time you know? I didn’t do it right.”

Talia sighed, but Jason kept going.

“But Tals, I swear I won’t ever just forget you. I have about fifty years of debt to pay off so if there’s anything you ever need-“

She smiled at the wording. “Do not be so quick to offer an Al Ghul fifty years of service lamb, we actually call upon those.” Her tone then grew serious, as quick as a flip of a switch. “There is a job I need done here then, one of utmost importance.”

Jason straightened, showing her he was listening with care.

“The league is- well, I didn’t tell you this when I last visited but it has been crumbling. It seems my prolonged absence made it far worse, far quicker. Especially on Damian. Father sped up his training as punishment.”

“His league training? But that. It could kill him.”

Talia nodded, the pain she had felt for months creeping up on her again.

“He’s been handling it, as best he can. But it’s-even for my father it’s cruel. I wished to take him away right then but-“, her face grew angry simply remembering it,”he forbade me from seeing him. He was going to take him away from me forever, until I told him of your plan.”

She took a step back then, unsure how he would take the news.

“In truth, if we had failed here today I would have never seen my son again, father would have used him as my own eternal punishment.”

Jason’s eyes widened, the implication clear. She had risked everything, all of it for him, and she never said a word. She didn’t even complain about it.

“You-why did you-”

“You know why lamb.”

The news sent the boy into a pace across the empty room, trying to slow his breathing.

“You should have told me. “

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“It wouldn’t have- there’s a kid being tortured out there and it never would have stopped if I had fucked up! How does that not change anything?!”

She gestured to him, as he paced. “This is all it would have accomplished. Made you less calm, more erratic. It would only have you causing errors. Jason, please.”

The rare word got him to turn to her, stopping his pacing. She slowly eased the two of them to sit on her bed.

“You have succeeded, and so have I in freeing my son. But now, there is something far more important to focus on.”

He swallowed, thinking about her words. “We have to get him out.”

“And I need him protected. Until I finally get a solid grip on the league once more. He must go to his father but- I would feel far safer knowing he had a trustworthy ally here as well. If you insist on staying in this filthy city.”

“I’ll do it.”

She looked to him. Not as a mentor then, but a mother. Asking one son, to take care of another.

“It will not be easy. I do not know when I will be able to return, or what my father will do. Are you sure it is something you are willing to risk your life for?”

Jason simply squeezed the hand she had placed on his arm and answered:

“My pleasure Tals. It was always my pleasure.”

Dick knew Bruce would hate getting flowers so he made sure and got the biggest “get well soon!” monstrosity they had at the flower shop. Complete with a teddy bear dressed like Batman. He barely made it through the door, but it was worth the dead eyed stare Bruce gave the gift.

Placing the flowers on his bedside Dick threw the bear at Bruce lightly. He was very proud of himself for not laughing when Bruce caught the bear and it made a high pitched little “grrr” noise.

Bruce looked like he was actually in hell.

“…Thank you Dick.”

“You’re beary welcome Bruce!”

That one got him an eyeroll.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Alright, let’s rephrase that. How many broken bones are still broken, can you eat solids yet, which feelings are bruised the most?”

“Hng. I’m out of field work for a month.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what matters.”

With a pained sigh Dick flung himself onto the end of Bruce’s bed and lamented.

“It’s like trying to convince Killer Croc to go vegan. I am not here for a status report Bruce I’m here because I care. You know, emotionally. I want to see if you’re alright. Now, let’s try this again. How. Are. You.”

“…Tired I suppose.”

“Well. I don’t blame you for that one. Between the meds and the headaches I’d be sleeping for a whole month.”

“You’d be jumping up on lighting fixtures before the first week was over.”

The first boy wonder sent him a grin, a bright one that hadn’t dimmed not matter how many years pass.

“I’ll never live that chandelier down huh?”

And even after so many years it still found a way to lift Bruce up, even if not outwardly. “Maybe, when you’re sixty.”

Dick then proceeded to try breaking Bruce’s broody mood up with a long exaggerated tale of his shopping trip, how hard it was to get the zeta tube to teleport the flowers as an item and not a small child, that he searched high and low for the bear and so on. Eventually though, the conversation steered to why the bear was so hard to find. Eventually Dick admitted it was because no one sold Batman stuff anymore.

Eventually, the elephant in the room had to be talked about.

“How are things on the ground?”

Dick, sheepish and uncertain rubbed the back of his neck. “Weird. Quiet. Some Joker goons made some problems but it was all small time stuff. Everyone else just seems to be…waiting I guess.”

Bruce nodded. “The playing field is shifting. No one is sure where the lines are anymore. It’ll probably be slow for a while, until everyone decides to test the waters.”

“Yeah. Bright side though, a bit of a vacation first. Me and Timmy will handle the easy stuff and when you’re ready to go things will probably pick up. It works out.”

Bruce grunted in…probably approval. Acceptance maybe? Then he eyed Dick with that “see through your soul and right into your search history” stare.

“I suppose Oracle sent you?”

Dick acted as offended as he could. “I got you a bear and you think so little of me?”

“No, I think very highly of you. In fact, I know you probably volunteered to be the one to babysit so that I couldn’t leave and stop the execution from happening.”

“…Ok so she didn’t want to take chances, but I really was going to come visit.”

“I know chum.”

When Bruce added nothing else, no mad stare or judging lecture Dick raised an eyebrow.

“What. That’s it? You’re just going to sit there and accept the fact?”

“The fact that I lost?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that exactly.”

“It’s the truth. That, and the fact I’ve done what I could. They chose him, and I…I disagree with them. But I can’t deny their final choice. “

“Ohhh. You talked to Diana didn’t you?”

“She hasn’t stopped talking at me since I got here.”

“Well, would you look at that! All it took was being beaten up, having an entire city boo you and being restrained to bed for a month before you decided to accept criticism. Why didn’t I try that sooner?”

“I can’t imagine.”

With a jump Dick sauntered over to the door, grinning, and grabbed the door handle with flare.

“Well then, since you’re being such a model patient I give you-“, a click, and the door opened wide revealing a surprised Tim outside it.

“A free Timmy visit! Congratulations!”

Tim walked in and cleared his throat.

“Um. Hi. I guess you saw me outside the door?”

“Why detective, you truly are unbeatable.”

Now it was Tim’s turn to roll his eyes. He looked to Bruce, catching site of the bear and the flowers. A furrow appeared in his brow.

“Oh, I forgot to get you something. “

Bruce extended the teddy bear to Tim. “As punishment you have to take this away from me.”

“You’re breaking my heart B.”

“Dick, it’s either Tim or the trash can. I refuse to have Hal see that thing.”

Tim took the bear carefully, like it would bite him if done faster and gave it a careful squeeze. It gave out that squeaky growl and Tim’s smile was somehow more adorable than the bear.

“Well. I guess Tim has earned it. How’s the company by the way boss?”

“Expanding. I was able to make sure Luthor doesn’t get his hands on the dev department, and he gave up the charities easy enough. He argued for funneling in as much money asap as we could to ‘save jobs’, but I was able to convince them to take a longer plan.”

“Isn’t saving jobs a good thing?”

“Of course it is Dick. Except that money would never have gone to saving actual jobs, it would have gone into expanding the weapons research the world now knows we do. Which means people would lose the jobs they now have anyway.”

Bruce nodded. “Did the board give you trouble?”

“Some. Lucius handled them more than me honestly. I’d say we give him a raise but considering our financials I’m actually cutting down both our salaries B. Like, a lot.”

“Ouch. No new suits for a while then?”

“I’ll put it this way. Start carrying a batarang magnet cause we can’t spare the metal.”

The news was taken solemnly. By the time Tim sat down Bruce seemed to have processed it however, and the two proceeded to discuss it all in further detail, financial figures thrown about everywhere. Dick lost interest, but was very grateful Tim had popped up. He can keep Bruce occupied for a lot longer like this.

Two cups of coffee later, an hour and a half had passed, and finally Tim seemed to remember why they were in a hospital room.

“How long is the estimated recovery time?”

“A month, if I agree to the Watchtower treatments. Which I have.”

Tim nodded. “That’s good. You’ll be up and running soon enough.”

Dick blew out a frustrated breath. “Birds of a feather…”

Then the next question came from Bruce.

“How are you Tim?”

“Fine. Nights are slow, no injuries.”

“That’s…good. But I meant more-“ Bruce threw Dick a look, as if channeling his spirit, “you, personally. It’s been a tough month, I haven’t been- available. And yet you still picked up a large burden without question. I’m sorry for that. “ Bruce sighed. “There’s a lot I have to start fixing.”

Tim seemed taken aback, looked between Dick and Bruce as if hoping someone save him from responding before stammering out a reply. “Everything’s fine! Really, there’s nothing to worry about Bruce. The company will take a hit for a while sure, but some positive PR and you’ll bounce back in no time. “

“Tim. If everything were fine you would have been here two days ago. “

“I-Alright, fair point but I I didn’t want the company to worry you so I got that solved next.”

“I wouldn’t have minded Tim. You really don’t need an excuse to see me.” Bruce waited till Tim stopped fidgeting and looked him in the eyes. “We’re partners bud. And that means I want you here, no questions.”

“…Are you sure about that though. “

“What about?”

“The partnership. Jason’s back now and well, doesn’t he have- seniority over me I guess? I was just temporary anyway.“

“You are not temporary.”

The words were loud, leaving no room for question or doubt. They had Tim fidget in his seat as Bruce continued.

“That’s ridiculous Tim. No one is extra, or unneeded. We are a family. To me, Jason is family as well. Seniority doesn’t exist in family, in the way you’re implying. Jason being here, it doesn’t devalue all you are Tim, or all you’ve done for all of us. “

Dick, whose smile was far more subdued than before, threw himself over the back of Tim’s chair and hugged his shoulders awkwardly, but strongly.

“I told you. You’re stuck with us.”

And just like Dick thought, the words only reached the poor little bird when it came from their big brooding teddy bear leader. It didn’t have the expected result.

“That’s. I can’t accept that.”

“Timmy?”

“I’m the wrong choice. And no, I don’t mean skill wise I know I’ve learned all that I mean- the things I can’t learn.” He looked out of the medbay window, towards the Earth that orbited below them slowly. “I thought they all understood it like we do, that every life is worth it no matter what but they-they don’t get it! And I thought it was just those who lived bad lives, or just didn’t know better but-“

The words ended in a stressed huff of breath, Tim’s eyes firmly analyzing every inch of Dick’s hands in front of him. Bruce hadn’t seen it on Tim often but he thought he saw shame stopping him mid-sentence.

“88 percent. Every walk of life, every class in this city, voted him dead with a clean conciseness. I kept looking at the numbers and wondering how so many people could be led astray or cruel and every solution was so complicated, it made no sense. Except one. The simplest one.”

Bruce’s mouth was set in a grim line but he nodded. “That being that we’re in the wrong.”

“Yes. And I know that can’t be true, because killing is never right, so then I keep getting stuck in this loop and-“, the grip he had on Dick tightened. “I don’t know what’s right anymore. And I can’t protect them if I don’t know that, so yeah. I’m not the right choice, not like Jason is. “

In the ensuing silence Tim’s breathing was quick but quiet. He wouldn’t look to either of his mentors, who were both having a silent conversation over his head. After Tim’s fidgeting seemed to return, impatient to get it over with, Bruce tapped the side of his bed twice.

“Tim, could you please come here.”

Dick released his hug, encouraging Tim to listen to the older man. Not that he had to, Tim always listened to orders and this was no different. He sat straight as a board on Bruce’s side.

“I think I understand what you’re trying to say and- I think I agree.”

If possible Tim’s back became even more ridged while Dick’s eyebrows went up.

“We are the minority yes. And the simplest answer here is that we are in the wrong. However, I don’t think the simplest answer is going to work here Tim. The harder to swallow answer is that both sides were right, but the solution could only satisfy one side. And we lost because disappointing the minority is preferable to disappointing the majority.”

“That…doesn’t make me feel better.”

Bruce smiled a little at that. “No, I don’t suppose it would. But we can learn from the result. I think both you and I need to do that in fact, if we ever plan on calling ourselves heroes of Gotham again.”

“Change our views you mean?”

“Not necessarily. Understand theirs as well as we do ours first. “

“And Jason already does so-.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

That had Tim stop for a second. “He just convinced an entire city to march with him.”

“Yes. He understands their argument perfectly. But what about ours?”

“He was Robin.”

“A Robin that never saw the world like we do. It doesn’t mean he was any less than us but simply that even if Jason decided to go back to this work, his views would be as skewed as ours Tim, simply on the other side. And backed by a majority.”

“…So. What are you saying?”

“I don’t want you to believe in what I believe Tim. But if you decide to stay, I promise we’ll try and find the solutions together. Handle the changes that are coming-“ Bruce squeezed one of the hands Tim put on the bed and sent Dick a meaningful stare. “As a family.”

The execution should have been public.

Actually, most people were expecting it. The mayor had been pretty excited for the opportunity.  Gothamites would have flocked to it. A show for the ages.

Jason was the one who said no.

Not only that but he told everyone no. No attending the actual execution, no television, no radio. And since the march, people found it very hard to deny him anything.

The room was barren, save for the chair itself. Grey, stuffy. No windows, one door, two cameras hidden from view up above.

When the Joker was taken from his cell no one asked any questions as to why he was bloody and beaten. They were mostly happy to see the clown could no longer talk due to his broken jaw.

That didn’t stop him from trying, but it just hurt him more.

The execution should have been public. That’s what the Joker thought too. So when he saw the empty room, the lack of cameras, dead quiet, it was like a switch had flipped.

He got angry. But he couldn’t say a word about it. He could just wordlessly trash about and look around for his audience. For the entrance Batman was going to make. That’s how the guards strapped him in, how they checked him over, how they left him.

After the door closed behind them, Joker was alone. Looking everywhere, making motions with his head as if he were laughing, but all that came were pained wheezes of air.

His eyes mostly kept looking up though.

There was no countdown, or signal or last word. They flipped the switch.

The world went white, the room lit up, electricity bounced around the air.

They let the electricity run long after the protocol called for it.

Smoke coiled around the Joker’s lifeless body, spreading the rancid smell of charred flesh all around the empty room.

Joker was frowning at the vacant celling.

Outside the door of the cell Jason stood next to Barbara, staring at that same celling with a tremulous smile.

All of Gotham laughed long into the night after Vicki came to their screens with the long awaited headline:

“Joker’s last laugh”

Diana delivered the news to a relieved Nightwing, a somber Bruce and a tense Tim.

Alfred celebrated with a pot of his favorite tea and a day off.

Commissioner Gordon lit up his finest cigar.

The Justice League debated if putting up some decorations would be rude.

A couple hundred miles away from Gotham Audrey Dom sat in her new apartment and wept.

 Jason and Barbara, after confirming he was dead for good, arranged for the body to be cremated immediately. As soon as they got through the door of her home, Barbara started checking in across Gotham, reaching out to the rest of the Gotham vigilantes and coordinating as she did best. And if she sounded far cheerier than usual, no one mentioned it.

Jason fell on the couch in her living room and fell into his first dreamless sleep in years.

Jason had had a list of things he wanted to do in Gotham.

To his profound joy, he had achieved a lot of them.

He had come back first of all. Told the world he was alive, gotten back into the streets he called home. He got his city back.

He had talked to Alfred, over a pot of tea. It was a long, slightly painful conversation that ended with a promise of weekly brunches.

He got to make it up to Barbara, who called in random favors every few days that ranged from food delivery to house renovation. He probably paid his debt back a while ago but he didn’t mind.

He got to yell at Dick, to see if he was as annoying as he remembered. He wasn’t. Well, depending on the day. And topic. If Jason had to listen about how he’d “love the replacement if he just gave him a shot” one more time he’s making a one man violent protest. But usually, he was pretty alright. He’d crash into Jason’s place with some horrible movie and then talk all throughout it. Luckily, his stories were usually pretty entertaining.

Speaking of, one thing Jason hadn’t wanted to do was meet his replacement. Unfortunately, he was forced to do so multiple times. Lex decided to call in his ‘debt’ when his standing with the Gothamites started to tank again. Which apparently meant Jason had to become the bastard’s assistant for a few months. No, Jason didn’t accept.

Talia though, Talia accepted for him.

Oh, how Jason hated life at that moment.

It was pretty horrible at first. Lex was an arrogant jerk who treated everyone like idiots no matter what. Jason’s job was mostly to just carry his things around and look pretty for the photos. Which Jason did, as horribly as he could get away with. Jason knew how to annoy millionaires from life experience, so he channeled all he could and then tripled it. Talia said he had to do it, but not how.

Jason will spill coffee onto Lex as many times as it takes until Lex grows hair just so he can pull it out again.

To his chagrin though…Tim did the job better.

Just being in the same room as the brat made Lex’s blood pressure go up and it was beautiful to watch. With time Jason even mastered ignoring the fact it was his replacement that gave him such a fun show.

The kid also didn’t try for any big friendship speeches or lectures, which was appreciated.

Anyway, obviously the thing he wanted to do most was kill the clown. Which he did. Him. Nobody from Crime Alley, important in no way shape or form. People stop him on the street for pictures.

No, he isn’t used to it yet.

He put Batman’s reputation thoroughly in the trash as well. People are pushing the mayor and commissioner to abolish the Batsignal, which would be more symbolic than anything.

The whole thing highlighted how police were “slacking” to say the least, so Gordon’s reforms were actually being funded faster now.

It was an unexpected, but positive side effect.

As far as Jason could tell from Barbara, Batman was centering all his effort on Gotham now, though throwing far less batarangs apparently.

It was in the air though. Things felt different. Kids were laughing in the street sometimes. Quietly, but it was a new sound. New sounds had to be quiet before they grew louder.

At the moment though, there was another thing Jason wanted to cross off his list.

Jason’s memories of his time on the street before Talia came to him in bits and pieces. One particular piece that came to him was of a nurse, poking his cheek. Then of a janitor, talking about baseball. A stern sounding doctor. And a very kind woman, wishing him a happy birthday.

Something told Jason he ended up in a hospital.

He could never figure out which hospital it was though, not until he was in front of it.

He looked at it and…he just knew. So, Jason ran off. First to the nearest flower shop, then to the nearest ticket salesman. He bought two Knights tickets, hoping it would be enough. Eh, he could always get more later.

He went back to the hospital and up to the desk clerk.

“Err. Excuse me.”

“Yes mister Todd? How can we help? Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m actually looking for someone, though I don’t know their names.”

“…Can you be a bit more specific.”

He wished. Problem with being in a coma, you don’t remember faces very well. Voices though…He just needed one of the four, they can lead him to the other three.

“Well, I think, and I know this will sound stupid, that I was a patient here once. I don’t remember much of it but there was a freckled nurse who came by a lot. Loved to talk. A janitor who really liked  the Gotham Knights. Any clues?”

The man at the desk sobered up the longer Jason talked, and his lips were pressed tightly.

“I’m sorry sir, but the only people that come to mind are no longer with us. They died a few years back now. “ The clerk pointed towards the outside, where a little garden was. “There’s a memorial plaque outside here, with their names and pictures.”

All the joy he had felt at finding the place seemed to turn cold. After a vacant nod to the attendant he went outside, eyes now drawn to the little memorial he had missed upon arriving. The hospital had went the extra mile and engraved photos next to the names on black marble, as a final thank you. A Joker attack. The bastard heard clowns made hospital visits so he made one too. Made it so the people laughed with him no matter what. To death.

 Jason scanned the faces, scared he’d recognize someone and hating the fact he was already expecting it.

He found two.

The nurse was the only freckled one among the pictures. He touched his own and thought they really were freckle buddies. She was way too young to be etched into something so bleak. Barley out of school.  The janitor actually had a longer dedication than the others. ‘Thank yous’ from the patients the man had saved by blocking a door with his own body to ensure laughing gas would get in slower.

The clown was dead. But somehow he still stole from Jason. Two wonderful people who Jason knows were kind enough to keep company to a lonely unresponsive teen. A type of person so rare in Gotham they might as well be an endangered species.

God, he hopes that electricity hurt like hellfire.

Jason backed away from the plaque just a little, to the bench in front of it and sat down. He had no idea what the other two in his memories looked like, but he couldn’t stop searching the faces. Wishing like a kid for the impossible, that a lightbulb would just magically light up over the names he wanted to know.

They deserved at least that. A prayer, flowers at their graves. He could do that.

And so he looked.

And looked.

Blinked.

And kept looking.

Until he blinked and there was no more sunlight around him.

He didn’t even notice the woman sitting next to him. She was a nurse, a middle aged woman with dark hair and a tired look about her. She noticed him stir and smiled.

“Hello sweetheart. Are you alright?”

Her voice was just like he remembered. The one that wished him a happy birthday, the one that-

“You remember me?”

“Hard to forget the special patients dear. You came to us in a funeral suit and left by disappearing into thin air. Very hard to forget indeed.”

“I-“

But he didn’t finish that. His throat felt very tight, and his mind was a bit on the frizz. He hadn’t planned this far ahead, which almost made him laugh. His entire life had been one large plan for the past year and as soon as it finished he was back to flying by the seat of his pants. Old habits die just as easy as him apparently.

So, instead of talking like a functioning human being he thrust the flowers he had bought hours ago to her, wincing at how the stalks were crushed from his hold. She blinked at it, and accepted them with amusement.

“I um- came to say thank you. I don’t remember much but I remember enough to know I’d be in the ground without all of you.”

“Well, it’s my duty to say we don’t do it for the presents but I have to say I rather love these. Thank you dear.”

Jason nodded and his eyes once again locked on the victim memorial.

“Is my doctor on there too?”

She shook her head no. “He was transferred after the attack. Out west. I can give you his card if you want to thank him too.”

“I’d appreciate it. Um. I know you’re probably busy but could you tell me about the other two?”

“Which two?”

They proceeded to chat about the ones who were lost in attack for a while, with the nurse calmly recalling events, good and bad, with smiles and frowns and the maturity Jason hopes he one day has. Her pain is there, but she doesn’t speak like it smoothers her or that it clings to her. She remembered them fondly, and made sure to tell their stories with the dignity they deserved. At least, that was how Jason heard it.

When she finished she stood from their bench and dusted herself off.

“Well dear, my break is over but I do want you to know it’s been lovely. I always hoped-“ her tired eyes were so very kind when she looked at him, ”after we couldn’t find you I hoped for the impossible. I didn’t even know your name but I prayed you were happy somewhere. “

He nodded his head, if only to try and hide the stubborn wetness of his eyes.

“Do you mind telling me your birthday dear?”

“Oh um. It’s in August. The 16^th.”

She snapped her fingers with a playful grin. “Ah. I was a few months off then.”

Getting up Jason smiled at her freely.

“It still counts. “He pointed over his shoulder. ”It’s about time I get going then.”

“Quiet right dear. He has been waiting for you for a while now.”

Jason raised his eyebrows at her and spun around quick, suddenly noticing the black Mercedes parked in front of the hospital. A completely different pair of tired eyes locked onto his and squeezed the steering wheel. Bruce wasn’t even wearing a disguise, he was just…there.

“What the hell?”

“I hope you don’t mind. I called him when I saw you staring at the memorial. “

“What like, two hours ago?”

“About.”

“Why?”

And now, it seems her eyes had gotten a bit wet when she just shrugged. “I couldn’t before. I had no idea which Bruce to call, back when he was the only thing you kept asking for. I thought it was about time I finally did.” She squeezed his arm softly. “I’m probably late. But maybe it’ll still count.”

The nurse turned to leave but a thought occurred to Jason then.

“You knew. You knew the minute I was on TV that everything we said in the court was-“

A lie. Made up. Fiction. She could have told all of Gotham and showed the pictures in his file, it would have stopped the entire thing in its tracks. She looked at the memorial, and Jason knew the look in her eyes.

“Why I have no clue what you mean sweetheart. I rather enjoyed every moment I saw.”

She left, which had Jason in a stare with the one man Jason hadn’t seen since Arkham.

He should probably just leave. Turn around and not give him the time of day. So what if he waited two hours there. So what if he came just because of Jason. So what if Jason looks at that stupid Mercedes and sees a different car between blinks.

Jason owes him nothing.

So what if the only reason Jason woke up from his coma was cause the nurse told him Bruce needed his help.

Jason doesn’t owe him a thing.

The thought in mind, he walks to the car, opens the door and sits down, feeling calm.

Because Jason doesn’t owe him anything, because no matter what Bruce says Jason can just leave. All that was there to burn, had burned. He could sit there, and look Bruce in the eye, and not feel the burning need to impress, or shame.

He sat and the onslaught of anger, resentment, regret, it didn’t come.

It just felt awkward.

For the first time in years, Jason sat next to Bruce and had nothing to say.

Maybe it was cause they both finally knew where the other stood. No need for any more questions, or heated demands.

Bruce was sitting next to his son who wasn’t afraid to take life away.

Jason sat next to his father who was too afraid to take life away.

No ifs. No maybes. No secretly hoping those facts weren’t true.

Maybe that was the reason it had all come crashing in waves. Their entire relationship had been built on those lies.

‘Jason won’t believe in killing if I raise him right.’

‘Bruce will cross his line for family.’

Without a word Bruce turned the ignition on and slowly eased them out of the parking lot. Jason had no idea where they were going. He didn’t ask.

“Why’d you come?”

“I wasn’t going to. I tried to explain to the nurse you wouldn’t appreciate it but- she insisted. Said it was about time family discharged you properly.”

“Ah. Curiosity killed the bat.”

“…Not really. I pulled up your file at the hospital as soon as she called. I knew what she meant.”

“So you came because?”

Bruce sent him a quick glance. “I wanted to.”

“I feel like you’re forgetting I thoroughly fucked your life up a little while back.”

“You’re asking why I’m not mad at you?”

“My, my. Learning to read between the lines, how far we’ve come.”

“Dick has been very insistent I learn the ability.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Alfred didn’t tell you? He’s very loud about it.”

“You won’t believe this but out convos really don’t revolve around you.”

“Well. It’s true anyway. And to answer the question, no. I’m not mad. I don’t approve of it either, but I think you know that.”

“Oh, that I do. I’m just surprised you decided to wait two hours in front of a hospital in spite of it.”

“I’ve wanted to talk for a while actually. I’d have waited longer if it meant the opportunity.”

“…Well, spit it out then. “

Bruce, actual Dark Knight, took a deep deep breath and stopped the car on the side of the road. Apparently he really needed his eyes on Jason’s for this one.

“I’m sorry for not being the family you deserve.”

When Jason didn’t stop him or laugh Bruce kept going.

“You’re right. Any father would have killed him. It would be the human response, because there’s something in humans that is selfish and more powerful than any other emotion. Everything else, every higher moral or line, goes out the window when it comes to those few special people.”

He stopped for a few seconds, as if gathering his thoughts.

“But I’m not a healthy man Jason. There was something in me that broke and it never got fixed. I am terrified of it. So I forced myself to crush that human selfish part as much as I can, so that I never break down further. I never expected to need it anyway. I didn’t ever plan on having a family.”

“I guess you didn’t crush it enough then. You were selfish enough to make one anyway.”

Bruce nodded. “It was stupid of me to think I could have both. A mistake I don’t even know how to regret. How can I, when then I have to regret ever having sons and I can’t do that.” With a shake of his head and a sigh he continued. “I love you all so much and I kept trying to convince myself I could make it work. That as long as you kids could pretend I was like the family you had in your heads it would be enough.”

“I guess we both know better now.”

“I hope so. I’m sorry for it. I’m sorry I convinced myself I could be a father and not face my demons first. I’ll never forgive myself for it, but you deserve to know it wasn’t your fault. Before your death, or after. “

They sat for a while after that.

Jason wasn’t really sure how to respond. He repeated to himself that he owed Bruce nothing. It was still true. But he should answer right?

Thanks for admitting to something I already knew and was fucked over by?

Congratulations on the self-improvement?

It’s ok,  I lied to myself too?

I hope your therapist is paid well?

In the end he had to settle on the one thing he felt encompassed everything he was feeling.

“Life sucks ass huh?”

Bruce threw his head back in a surprise snort and the familiar scene brought a smile to Jason’s face. The old man turned the key again and got the car onto the road.

Jason finally found it in him to ask where they were going.

“…To be honest I have no idea. I was just driving in circles waiting for you to talk.”

Jason laughed then, because Bruce actually just awkwardly admitted he was doing this whole thing by the seat of his pants. Always-have-a-plan-Batman. Maybe Jason had left an impression after all, the poor bastard.

“I guess. We could go eat?” Bruce glanced over from the road to him, something strange in his eyes. “Are you hungry?”

And just like that Jason was 12 again, cold and scared of the big guy next to him and trying very hard not to show a flicker of fear, but failing to hide his eagerness at the possibility of food.

It was too much.

Jason blinked and Bruce was Bruce again, and the car was quiet as he waited for his answer. It came out quiet.

“No. Drop me off at the square.”

Bruce didn’t show if the answer bothered him, nothing beyond a gulp and a nod. The whole ride stayed silent till the square where Jason got out with Bruce looking after him.

“Thanks for the ride old man.”

Bruce nodded. “I- I’ll be there, if you need help. I want you to know that “

And somehow, Jason believed Bruce would try. Sure, he probably wouldn’t actually succeed but-that was a human quality in the end. It was worth something.

”And Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Life does suck. But the good moments were and are all worth it.”

Jason stuffed his hands into his pockets and brushed against the gift he forgot about, the Knights tickets. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, about pulling them out and offering one to Bruce. Telling Bruce about the janitor and how Jason only understood the man because Bruce took Jason to his only baseball games. Asking if maybe they should try, see if the games were as fun as he remembered.

Instead he closed the door and waved as Bruce drove away.

Jason pulled the tickets out and gazed at them. They were for a game a month from then.

Jason didn’t owe Bruce anything.

He’d keep the option open though.