It started that summer

No Escape

*Yesterday*

I tossed the camera onto the table. "Here." The Joker snatched it with a twisted grin, while I slumped against the wall, drenched in sweat and utterly spent. "You didn't mention Batman's sidekick would be there," I said, frustrated.

The Joker's gaze sharpened. He looked me up and down, "You weren't bothered by Boy Blunder, were you?"

I shook my head, trying to stay cool. "No, he was just a pain in the ass."

"Good!" Joker held up the camera. "But Bat Brat took the SD card," he said with a smirk. "just like I thought. Now to the next step-a-Rooney! But first, I've got a little treat for you! I planted a microphone on Batsy's suit last time." He tossed me an audio file. I fumbled with it, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach as I stared at the play button. "Go ahead," he encouraged me.

I pressed play, and Alfred's worried voice filled the room. "You can't mean that, Sir!"

Bruce's voice came next, yelling in frustration. "He's been playing us the whole time, and I didn't see it! I let my guard down, and now Dick—" His voice broke with emotion. "My son could be in danger. He's risking everyone and tearing this family apart! I've warned him again and again. Letting him come back was my last mistake. He's going to Arkham where he belongs!"

. . .What?

"Sir, Jason is your son!"

"No. My son died years ago."

That son of a–After everything I'd been through, he'd turn his back on me like that? How long have I been the villain in his damned eyes?

"I..." I growled, fists clenched. I hurled the recording against the wall. It shattered, and I stomped on the pieces. "I'm going to make him pay!" I yelled, my voice cracking with rage.

Joker's hand landed heavily on my shoulder. "Perfect. Because in two days, I'm giving you that chance. Take down Batman and prove yourself to me, Gotham, and everyone who doubted you!" His grip tightened, his face inches from mine. "You hesitated with Nightwing. Don't think I didn't notice." His tone was cold. "I'm not wasting my time with you too, am I?"

"N-No."

He shoved me against the wall briefly, then pushed me into a chair. "Let's get that wound cleaned up!" he said cheerfully. He tightened the bandages, making me wince. "You don't have any soft spot for Batman, do you?"

"I hate Batman." 

"Hehe, then we're going to get along just fine! We'll make sure he's nothing more than a memory!" Joker glanced at his watch. "I'd better get going. I have a package to pick up!" He winked at me, "You know where to go."

I stormed out of the room, my blood boiling with every step. My fists were still clenched, knuckles raw and bleeding from the earlier fight. The anger inside me was a living, breathing thing, gnawing at my insides. The fear of where I was headed was completely numbed and blacked out by my hate.

I need an outlet, and I need it now.

I smashed through the hallway, my mind a whirlwind of fury. Everything was a target.

A metal support beam?

I kicked it, leaving a dent.

A nearby crate?

I sent it flying with a savage shove.

I wanted to destroy, to make everything around me suffer as much as I was. I reached the area where the bat-suited guards had gathered and where I spent weeks getting tortured. These weren't stupid symbols, they weren't just reminders of Batman's failures; they were reminders of everything he had taken from me. I'd be damned if I showed them any mercy. I grabbed the nearest one by the collar, yanking him up. He looked up at me, fear shined in his eyes behind the cowl, but I didn't care. I threw him against the wall with a force that made the concrete shudder. He slumped to the ground, barely conscious. I kicked him hard in the ribs, the sickening crack of bone under my boot sending a thrill through me. Another one tried to crawl away, but I was on him in an instant. I grabbed him by the helmet, ripping it off and throwing it aside. He looked up at me, pleading. I wasn't interested. I grabbed a nearby wrench and swung it at him.