Live to Rise

His Name Is Jason Part 2

I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING EVERYTHING BELONGS TO DC AND KAI MACIEL THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK
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You're a monster, Todd. You're nothing but a zombie fuelled by rage.

Jason kept running away from the kid. He had almost killed him. Again. He couldn't control himself, just like an animal.

The kid knew who he was. He had been so stupid and arrogant that he didn't even think that revealing that he knew Batman's secret identity could out him too. This Robin was a genius, he had figured out Batman's identity by himself. Of course he would be able to figure out who the Red Hood really was. Jason had given him all the info he needed. He might as well have a neon sign over his head with his name on it.

So he lost his mind. He saw everything red as the kid closed in on his identity and his first reaction was to strangle him to shut him up. He had let the hate storm take hold of him again. He was no better than a common killer.

Bruce's words echoed in his mind, words he had listened hundreds of times from the recorder Talia had given him. Words that he had strongly tried to deny.

"No matter what differences we had over the years, I've always known that Dick had a gift. Jason had only... rage."

The seventeen-year-old felt hot tears brimming in his eyes and a painful knot on his throat as he willed himself not to cry. His head was throbbing and he felt like throwing up.

He couldn't deny it now, could he? He couldn't say that he was more than just rage, not after almost killing his replacement twice. Maybe the Jason Todd who had died in the desert had something more inside of him, something better, but the person that came back from the dead was little more than a high functioning zombie controlled by anger.

You're hollowed out, Todd. There's nothing good inside you anymore.

"Wait!" the boy's voice called hoarsely above him, Jason heard his steps as he ran after him.

What the hell was this kid thinking?

"Go back upstairs! Go! Call Batman! Call the League! I don't care," the Red Hood yelled as he ran away from him. "Just stay away from me."

Stay away before I do something unforgivable.

But the kid didn't use this opportunity to escape or to call his allies. He jumped down a flight of stairs and landed on Jason's back, making them both fall on the metal ground.

"What the hell is wrong with you, kid? I was going to kill you," he yelled at the boy on top of him, trying to pull him off. "Go away!"

"No!" Robin grabbed his leather coat, refusing to budge an inch. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I was going to strangle you! Do you have a fucking death wish?" the Red Hood tried to punch the kid, but Robin grabbed his fists and tried his best to immobilize the taller boy. He had to roll over and pin down the kid to keep him still. "What's the matter with you? I'm not keeping you captive anymore, so why the fuck aren't you running?"

"I can't," Robin answered, struggling to stand up.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because I know!" Robin yelled. "I know it's you, Jason!"

The Red Hood froze as if all the blood in his veins had turned into ice. His hands slowly dropped Robin's arms as his eyes were fixed on the younger boy's expectant face, lingering on the red marks his hands had made around the kid's neck.

"I've always known that Dick had a gift. Jason had only... rage."

"It's true, isn't it?"

Slowly, the Red Hood stood up and turned his back on the boy, avoiding his hopeful gaze. Everything was silent aside from the sounds of the kid's breathing and distant drops of water against metal.

"Please," the boy whispered behind him, also standing up. "Tell me what happened to you."

The Red Hood remained silent, his left hand grabbing a metal bar firmly as if to steady himself. His helmet felt too tight around his face, but he didn't take it off. He controlled his breathing and waited until his heart beat returned to normal.

"We can help you," Robin went on.

The Red Hood laughed bitterly. Help? No. They would never help him. They didn't even want him to be alive in the first place. Any feelings Batman and his clan had towards him were pity and regret, nothing more. Once they found out who the Red Hood was, they would stick to their precious morals. Their idea of help was an Arkham cell where they could keep him locked up and drugged so they would never have to worry or think about him again.

Just like the Joker.

"Please..." Robin pleaded. "Come home."

Home. Once upon a time, he thought he had a home and a family. He thought he was wanted. But everything had been a lie. People who loved you didn't throw you away like garbage, they didn't give up on you, they didn't call you a failure and replace you with someone better so they could forget you ever existed.

"I don't have a home," the Red Hood answered, finally turning around and pointing a gun at the stunned Robin. "I never did."

The explosion shook the tunnel, collapsing several parts of it. Jason moved quickly as he instinctually grabbed Robin's arm when the staircase beneath them collapsed.

For a few seconds, their eyes met while Robin dangled dangerously over the dark pit, as they both became painfully aware that all Red Hood had to do was drop him to finally get rid of him.

Robin's arm started to slide.

"Please," the boy whispered, never taking his eyes of the older teen's. "Jason..."

The Red Hood blinked and his grip grew stronger.

"Hold on!" the Red Hood screamed, grabbing a metal pipe with one hand while holding Robin with the other. He glanced at the wall on their right. "The wall!"

Robin followed his gaze and threw himself towards the cement wall, using it to pull himself to what remained of the metal stairs next to Red Hood.

"You okay?" the older teen asked, eyeing the panting boy.

"I'm fine. Just a few scratches," Robin looked at him. "I knew you wouldn't drop me."

"Don't be so sure," the Red Hood moved away from Robin and looked down at the bottom of the destroyed staircase, thought the smoke made it almost impossible.

The kid stood up and slowly walked towards him. "Thank you."

Jason almost shivered. What was it with this damn kid? Why did he keep coming closer instead of leaving?

"Don't thank me," he answered flatly and ignored his gaze. "Seems like the generators blew up. Robb is already down there with his zombies."

Robin moved closer to Red Hood and eyed him warily. "How do you know?"

"It takes a lot of electricity to reanimate the corpses even with the Lazarus formula. Mary Shelley got that part right on Frankenstein. We have to hurry."

Robin nodded and they used the twisted metal to go down a few floors until they found a safe staircase that hadn't collapsed. Silently, Jason drew his guns as they ran down the stairs into a wide open door.

They both stopped dead in their tracks the moment they walked through the doorway. In front of them, over a thousand zombies stared dumbly into the air with white, hollow eyes, their limbs swinging from side to side as if they were puppets with a few strings cut.

Overseeing this horrific sight on top of a metal platform, stood Dr. Edward Robb, impeccably dressed in a black suit, and...

Jason felt his heart racing inside his chest. He clenched his teeth and aimed his guns towards the platform.

"Joker."