Whumptober 2021

#28) Mind over Matter- DCU

Prompt #28- It's not just in your head. DCU Jason angst. Violence warning (though nothing terribly graphic) and self loathing on Jason's part. Friendly reminder that most of what this author knows of DCU lore comes from fanfiction. . .

The gun weighed heavily in the Red Hood's gloved hands. He resolutely ignored the fine tremors wracking through his fingers, keeping his glare on the shadowed figure in front of him.

"What's it gonna be, old man? Him or me?"

Hysterical giggles exploded near his ear, only to cut off quickly when Red Hood tightened his grip on the Joker's neck. Batman stood halfway across the rooftop, batarang in hand. It'd be so simple; kill the Joker to rid Gotham of the cursed prince's madness. 'And avenge your death like he should have.' Poisonous green tendrils whispered in Hood's ear. Batman remained still. Hood grit his teeth, thankful the helmet hid his expression.

"Quit stalling! Or why don't you prove just what kind of man you really are?"

Once upon a time Jason had thought he knew who Bruce was. Thought that Bruce was different then every other man Jason had known in his short life. That reality had shattered even before the warehouse did.

He hadn't killed Garzonas, the vile excuse of a human being had tripped over his own drunken feet and fell. Like Jason would break the one rule that would get him thrown back on the streets faster than Bruce had taken him off them. But Bruce hadn't believed him. Typical. So here he was now; a murdering drug lord. The irony couldn't have been less stark.

Batman drew back his arm and threw his batarang. Red Hood watched it fly, noting its trajectory. He could move if he wanted. But. . . he'd told Batman to choose. The tiny remaining shreds of hope in Jason were cut with his neck.

Hood fell to the ground, losing his grip on the Joker and the gun. The madman scrambled somewhere behind him. Worry over the Joker disappeared as shadows covered Red Hood's vision. Batman towered over him, disapproval radiating off in waves.

"You never were my son."

The agony in Jason's heart flared in time with the blow to his head. Despite the helmet, Jason's consciousness slipped away.

"Wakey, wakey!" Ear piercing giggles accompanied the words.

Jason's eyes shot open, only to quickly close against the harsh light.

"Come out and play, little birdie!" Jason's breath caught in his chest. It couldn't- he wasn't- "Don't make Uncle J wait. You know I get impatient when you don't play my games." A tsking noise came from above him. "And your games earlier were hardly fun. No one likes a copycat, Hoodie."

'No! No, no, no! NO!'

Arkham had lurked in Jason's shadow from the moment he donned the helmet in Gotham. He knew that and yet. . . the tiny shreds of the boy he'd been before the warehouse hoped Bruce would at least put him in a different wing than the Joker.

A hand grabbed his chin, yanking his head upward. Jason hissed in surprise.

"There you are."

Fingers pried Jason's eyelids open. Lazarus green eyes met corpse green eyes. An unnaturally wide smile broke across Joker's face. Jason tried to pull away, but Joker's grip on his head tightened. Harsh breaths mingled with maniacal giggles. On impulse Jason jerked backwards, only then noticing the padded cuffs locked around his wrists and ankles. Thick straps over his shoulders, torso and thighs belted him to the table.

"We never finished our little experiment, did we birdie?"

Joker let go of Jason's head and walked out of his line of sight. Something scraped the floor. Bile rose in Jason's throat. Joker sauntered over, twirling a crowbar.