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There was a ragged hole in the Replacement's stomach that Jason hadn't put there. The Joker was in a pile of bones somewhere off to Jason's left; he might be dead. Jason didn't know. He wasn't making any noise, at least.
The only sound Jason could hear was the shallow breaths rattling from the Replacement's lungs.
Jason dropped to his knees in the pool of blood surrounding the Replacement, splashing dark crimson drops onto Drake's pale—too pale, he's not going to make it—face.
Do something. Do anything.
But he was frozen, staring down at the Replacement. The kid.
Jason had spent months fantasizing about killing Timothy Drake, planning every step and every flick of the knife and tongue, but now...he hadn't done this, but that wasn't what left him frozen in shock and horror.
The Joker had been the one to kidnap Robin while Batman was across the world fighting an alien invasion. The Joker had been the one to beat and torture Robin to the brink of death, the Joker had been the one to relish in a child's suffering, the Joker had done everything he'd done before, and he was going to do it again just because he wanted to make Batman suffer.
Staring at the Joker's handiwork, Jason was staring into the black mirror of his deepest desire.
The Replacement groaned and tensed like he was trying to sit up, but his strength failed him. The kid slumped back, and his eyes fluttered for a second before landing on Jason.
Tim went still, his eyes widening as he stared up at Jason. He didn't plead or try to reason with Jason, not expecting mercy or sense, he just scrambled for his utility belt.
Jason's hand was on Tim's wrist before he knew what he was doing. Tim gasped and tried to snatch his hand back, but his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp instead.
Shit. Shit.
Jason had fashioned himself an antihero—someone who did bad things for good reasons. Antiheros don't strike reasonable terror into the hearts of children, especially not their—not whatever his relationship to Tim was supposed to be.
Jason swore creatively in multiple languages as he rifled through Robin's utility belt for medical supplies. Red Hood didn't carry much in the way of bandages; pockets were for ammo and dying was for chumps. He found gauze pads and bandages in one of the pouches, a different place than he used to keep it. There wasn't a lot, maybe not enough to stop the bleeding, but it was the best he was going to get.
He used one gauze pad to mop away the flowing blood, then put the other to the wound and pressed down. Tim roused enough to cry out, then he went still again.
There were more injuries than just the deep, twisted stab wound in his gut. Several of his ribs were definitely broken, he had ligature marks around his neck and hands, and at least three of his fingers were pointed the wrong direction. A layer of skin was missing from the Replacement's right temple where someone had given him a solid blow to the head. A concussed, bleeding, broken Robin was a big problem.
Tim wouldn't be able to hold onto Jason for a motorcycle ride to Leslie's clinic, and Jason didn't have a car. He definitely didn't have a car he could summon to him at a moment's notice, and Jason doubted the Replacement had summoning the Batmobile privileges either.
He better not, a voice in Jason's head spat, but it sounded more like a bitter fifteen year old than a magical, raging monster.
Dickiebird was in Bludhaven, too far away to be of any use—typical in situations like this.
Batman was too far away. Oracle wouldn't be able to get here in time, and Jason didn't even know where to look for the purple problem and the silent menace.
There was only one person left he could turn to.
His phone rang, quite unexpectedly. It wasn't a number he recognized, but Alfred set his tea down and answered. A call at this time of night could only mean three things—someone was dead, something to do with the nocturnal oddities of his little family, or Master Bruce had forgotten about the time difference between Gotham and Luxembourg.
"Hello? This is Alfred Pen—"
"Alfie? It's Jason. I need some help."