Chapter Text
Act 1: The Dream
“Stupid”, Jason cursed himself, “stupid! Why didn’t you –“
He dropped into a crouch next to the detonator, fists in his hair.
“Urgh!”, he shrieked, yanking hard, “Stupid, stupid, stupid – so stupid –“
A fist thumped against his temple, hard, followed by the other on the other side. He hit again, both at the same time.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid, you MORON!”
His voice raked over the shouts, turning the words guttural to keep the volume down. The force of the teeth-grinding made his molars creak, the tampered-down noise hurt his throat. It made him feel a little better, so he yelled again.
Fists slammed against his temple.
“Fuck…”
“Fuck this.”
Thump. Thump-thump-thump. Thump. THUMP-THUMP.
“ARGH!”
Jason’s eyes fell on the detonator. He could still –
No.
No, he couldn’t.
THUMP.
“You IDIOT!”
Jason let himself fall forward without catching himself, relishing the pain that took over for a brief second when his head hit the floor.
A second. Not enough. He dug his fingernails into his arms – he was wearing the swimsuit, it did nothing – curled up in a ball and screamed into his knees.
The shaking was rage. He was pretty sure it was rage. Rage and frustration.
He’d wasted – he’d wasted this attempt. He had decided to kill Bruce and hadn’t thought about any further, he’d just gone into mission mode and carried out the plan – step by step, compartmentalising, as he’d been taught.
He’d never stopped to ask himself whether it would be enough.
The car bomb – Bruce would have been dead. In an instant. He wouldn’t even have known he was dying before he’d have been gone – would have woken up where Jason had been, as much as he could remember of his six months dead – or down below.
As much as Jason thought Bruce deserved to pay, he didn’t think the grand total of Bruce’s actions was negative. A camel through the eye of a needle, that was Bruce Wayne.
So fucking typical.
If Bruce had died like that, there’d have been no payback.
And now there was a bomb stuck under the batmobile, ripe for the plucking next time Batman checked the engine.
Which he did every time he left for patrol.
Jason relaxed suddenly, slumping against the dirty wood floor. Breathing quickly and deeply, he closed his eyes.
He needed to get that bomb out of the car. Before tomorrow evening.
There wasn't a chance of getting the car out of Wayne Manor without Bruce doing at least a quick examination.
He always checked by the fuel lines. He’d find the bomb, and there were only four people who could have put it there – Bruce himself, Alfred, Grayson – or the dead kid. And if Bruce phoned up Ra's, there was no way in hell the old bastard wouldn’t tell him.
Jason needed to break into the Batcave.
Jason needed to break into the Batcave.
Fuck.
His respiration was going fast. Way too fast. He was…
…hyperventilating, he realised dimly – he was having a panic attack. He needed to slow down.
His muscles were clenched again.
Almost cramping.
A diaphanous black veil separated him from the rest of the world, curled up on the floor. The floor, the only real thing, except Jason. He shuddered, his wire-tight muscles spasming.
Breathe, he told himself, You know the grounding techniques. Five things I can feel –
Five things I can feel –
Pain.
Pain?
My head.
I’m pulling my hair.
Pain…
There was pain there.
THERE.
Jason wheezed, his scream lost under the air whistling through his throat.
Come now, birdboy! You’re not going to sleep on me already, are you?
The party’s just got started!
That wasn’t a very nice thing to do to uncle Joker.
You’ve been a bad boy. You must be punished!
Prepare yourself for a severe spanking, young man.
But let me tell you right from the start…
This is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me.
Yeah, no kidding.
Pain.
Five things I can feel…
My! But that was fun! Kind of messy though.
But what’s Batman going to do when he finds out what you’ve done to his little friend?
Nothing.
Mom.
… mom?
Mom was helping me…
Hadn’t thought of that…
He… wouldn’t have planted the bomb. If she hadn’t said…
He’s a vengeful one, that Batman.
HAH.
What the Batman doesn’t know can’t hurt me!
That’s one of the most fascinating aspects of the Batman. The righteous boob insists on solid evidence before going nova.
Fascinating…
Solid evidence.
Something about solid evidence…
Bomb.
We just leave lovely Sheila tied next to that lovely bomb. Isn’t it fortunate that I never go anywhere without bringing along at least one explosive device.
You’ve got ten minutes. I’ll enjoy the thought of you counting every second…
Every second.
Every second.
EVERY. SECOND.
Counting.
Down.
Counting.
Ten minutes.
Joker, no!
…every… second of them. Tata!
You can’t… you…
This isn’t fair, Joker. I played straight with you.
Played straight…
Joker.
Hah. HAH. HAHAHAHAHAH.
Nooo… it can’t end like this.
JASON!! You’re still alive!!
Alive…
Alive?
Alive.
Mom…
The bomb, Jason! Deactivate it!
Deactivate it!
It’s not enough.
…in no shape… to handle… that…
Not enough…
Nothing.
Ever.
Nothing’s ever enough.
…gotta… get you… outta here…
Get outta here…
…I’ll… save you… mom…
Not enough.
Dead.
DEAD.
Not again…
Not enough.
…you’re… free…
…run… for it…
…go…
GO!
Please.
Go.
Please.
I’ll save you, mom.
Please.
Never enough.
We’ll both get out of here, together. We’re almost there.
Stay here while I get the door.
The door!
What’s wrong?
Mom? What's wrong?
Come with me.
WAIT! The Joker...
Is long gone. There's nothing to worry about. But I've something you should see.
I lied.
Come on, mom! Play straight with me! I can help you!
I have no idea what you're talking about.
Mother, there's a lot about me you don't know.
It’s LOCKED! The Joker locked us in here!
Pain.
Always pain.
Pain.
Blurry.
Green?
Green eyes.
Mom?
Do not seek him out.
You remain unavenged.
Jason wheezed, twitching under the onslaught of imagined heat.
…heat.
Five things he could feel.
Heat… no, he wasn’t hot. He wasn’t… he… wasn’t even warm.
Cold?
He was cold.
Cold...
Wet earth, clammy against his bare hands.
Bleeding hands.
Freezing.
Rain.
Headlights.
Heh.
No.
Robin, not a deer.
Fly - can't fly -
Frozen.
Deer.
Dear...
Dear boy.
Alfie?
Pain.
He was… his fingers twitched, and the gloves rubbed against them.
Gloves, like his costume. But… a different fabric.
His costume?
His legs were covered. The fabric was… the fabric was…
Not a suit.
Not that kind of suit.
He was wearing a wet suit.
And… he wasn’t lying in a warehouse either.
He was inside somewhere. The floors were wood, old and stained.
Something was on the ground next to him…
The detonator.
The detonator to blow up the batmobile.
Why would he think…
Revenge.
Bruce… hadn’t.
It was fair.
But not enough.
Five things I can feel, Jason reminded himself.
Pain?
No more pain.
Well, barely any. Barely a twinge on his scalp. A tingling numbness, instead.
The wet suit – his chest, expanding and contracting.
The… floor.
Obvious one.
Details?
He could feel the ridges in the wood.
Five.
Five…
His hair. His hair on his forehead. Tickling.
Four things he could see.
His knees… he was curled up on the floor, he could see his knees. Covered in strechy black fabric.
Behind them… the wall.
The detonator.
Fuck.
The detonator.
He had to…
He had to BREATHE.
Breathe. Four things he could see.
Knees, wall, detonator. Floor again.
Okay.
Three things he could smell.
The wetsuit. Weird smell when dry. Because it was new.
Smelly old wood.
Gotham. Gotham alley.
So, piss and car fumes. And cheap weed. Trash.
Home sweet home.
Good.
The batmobile...
Three tires. Just one more.
Batman.
Dad?
HELP!!
No.
Gotham - not nine.
Not twelve.
Not Ethiopia.
Two things he could hear – distant cars, distant guns.
Gotham.
He was in Gotham.
He was really in Gotham.
One thing he could taste.
Blood.
Blood?
He’d bitten the inside of his cheek. He could feel the wound.
He was in Gotham. He wasn’t in Ethiopia.
He needed to break into the Batcave to detach the bomb from the car.
Jason sucked in a deep breath that hiccupped into a sob somewhere in the middle. He curled up tight on the floor and buried his face in his knees.
It just wasn’t fair.