I'll Ruin You.

The solid thwack of cold metal echoed in the warehouse as the crowbar struck his body again, the metal so frozen that he felt it through the tatters of what was left of his uniform, and Jason's teeth clicked together harshly as his body jostled from the force behind it. There was no time for him to adjust to the new looseness in his chest as his ribs cracked and splintered, or the newest wave of tangy iron filling his senses as blood flooded into his mouth, layering over the old blood painting his teeth like fresh paint.

The crowbar clattered to the ground next to him, lifting up off the concrete once before falling flat when Joker dropped it, his blood still dripping off the rusted silver. Joker kneeled down next to him, purple filling his vision, and a glove, now more rust-stained than white, weaved its way through his hair, pulling on the dark strands until his body came with it. Joker's crooked teeth showed and his red lips cracked and bled as his face split apart in what Jason's sluggish mind realized was a smile.

"What's a matter, little birdy?" Joker asked, jostling Jason's head as he did, "You can tell uncle J."

Jason's mouth moved, trying to form words, and the action made a tear trail of blood fall from the corner of his mouth and drip off his chin onto the cement floor.

"What was that?" the man asked, leaning closer, his free hand coming to rub at the small stream of blood, smearing it over Jason's cheek. Jason's vision blurred, and he clenched his eyes shut, opening them and forcing them to focus on the clown in front of him a moment later. Joker's hand gripped his hair tighter.

Jason forced a bloody smile, his teeth tinted red, "go to hell."

He forced the words out of his mouth, not allowing them to get stuck in the honey-thick of his throat, and did his best to spit blood at the man in the purple suit.

Joker pulled back, his hand leaving Jason's hair with no warning, and Jason's head fell back to the cement, "now that wasn't nice, at least the first boy blunder had some manors."

The man stood up, picking up the crowbar as he did, and Jason's vision burned with tears and blood that was slowly sliding down from his hair line, one of his eyes swollen shut.

Thoughts of how even the perverted monster wearing human skin in front of him compared him to Dick tumbled around in his head, and the usual river of hate ran through his veins at the mention of the first Robin. The Robin who took everything that Jason had never had and threw it in the trash, leaving Bruce for Blüdhaven.

And yet, Bruce still thinks he's perfect, tries to mould Jason into him, make him nothing but a replacement.

Jason's handcuffed hands curl into fists, his nails making half-moons in the tender and scuffed skin of his palms.

"I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson," Joker sighed, as if the task was a chore he wasn't looking forward to, and paused to think about it, a grin growing wider and wider on his face like a centipede stretching out after being curled up in the dark for too long.

The man brought the crowbar above his head, "nah, I think I'll keep beating you with this crowbar," he swung down again, this time aiming for Jason's legs, and Jason's eyes clenched shut as he waited for the pain.

----

Jason's eyes snapped open, a desperate gasp for oxygen filling his lungs with the crisp night air.

For a moment, his vision is painted with layers of dark smoke, clouding his sight, but when he blinks it's gone, replaced with the soft white of the bedroom ceiling. He sits up slowly, his body feeling useless and heavy, and the faint outlines of furniture becomes visible in moonlight leaking in from the balcony doors. Sweat drips from his hair and he swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, grimacing at the feeling of overheating and the sticky texture stretching across his skin, clinging to him.

"Jay?" Dick's voice says, then echoes in Jason's head, and the hero steps inside the room from where he had apparently been standing out on the balcony, wearing only lose pyjama pants. The white curtains blow with the gust of wind that follows him in, chasing him because not even Mother Nature can resist Dick Grayson.

The draft brings the familiar stench of cigarette smoke to Jason, and he was once again reminded that he was the one to pass his habit to Dick, who now spent nights staring at the moon and flicking the ashes over the railing.

Jason rakes a hand through his hair, shaking it out as his other hand twisted in the thin sheets to hide the way it trembles. Dick was in kneeling in front of him on the bed before Jason registered that the other had moved at all, and Dick's arms wound around Jason's shoulders, pulling him closer and under a blanket of the cool blue that he could only associate with Dick. Dick's clothes smelled heavier of nicotine than the air around him, and as guilty as Jason often felt for splitting his smokes with Dick, the smell was familiar and comforting, and Jason found his heart-rate slowing.

"It's okay, Jay," a pause, "you're safe," Dick mumbles, his breath warm against Jason's ear in a way that made his shaking still. Dick places a kiss to Jason's throat with soft lips, again and again, following the line of his collarbone and occasionally nipping at Jason's jawline. Soon he's peppering kisses all along Jason's tense shoulders, patiently waiting for the other to calm.

Jason's breathing steadies and he slowly relaxes. 'I'll ruin you,' he thinks to Dick as he leans further into Dick's intoxicating touch and the smaller man is swallowed up in his arms.

The long flowing curtains only allowed the lost streams of the moon that had pursued Dick into the room to show, and although the room had no clock, Jason's instincts told him it was only a few hours till sunrise.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dick mumbled against Jason's scarred skin, lips dragging across a more recent slice from a knife.

After a moment of dark silence, Jason replied to him, his voice hoarse and rough, "I was in the warehouse," he started, hands moving to hold Dick, one hand resting on his hip, fingers laying over the bruises he had left there only hours before, and the other weaving into his raven hair.

Dick had already pieced it together, even before Jason told him, so he didn't bother saying more, and Dick didn't reply. In the silence, filled only with Jason's occasional sharp intakes of breath when Dick's teeth would sink into his skin, he could swear laughter echoed throughout the room and his eyes darted back and forth, unable to take anything it yet looking at everything.

Dick moved so he could lay nearly flush against Jason, pushing the blanket out of his way, where it bunched up and gathered at the foot of the bed. Dick kissed the other softly, their lips interlocking as if they needed the other to breathe, yet Dick pulled back shortly after, smiling when Jason chased his lips, not wanting the kiss to end.

"It's okay, Jay," he whispered again, voice full of the calm and caring waves that seemed to drip from his entire form like water, running off his body and bringing any of Jason's leftover panic to a screeching halt. Jason felt the feeling wash over him, filling him with peace, and he mumbled an "I love you," in return as they shifted to lay in the bed properly, and he closed his eyes.

As soon as he did, he sighed, feeling the resistance of Dick's form pressing down on his chest, and he knew neither of them would sleep again that night. Dick sat up first, reluctantly sliding out of the bed and Jason mimicked him silently, each of them dressing in silence, although Jason chuckled softly to himself as Dick pulled Jason's shirt over his head and didn't object to having to move through the manor shirtless.

Maybe they would run into Timmy, who always seemed to be wandering the halls with a faintly dazed expression, a laptop, and a cup of coffee, then Dick could give him another one of many recent suggestive looks and Jason could fold his arms over his chest and, maybe, Tim would finally get the hint.

Jason smiled softly to himself, and the way Dick ducked his head told Jason that he'd noticed and they were probably thinking the same thing. He followed Dick out of the room and towards the kitchen, where he knew they would make hot-cocoa and he and Dick would joke about watching the sunrise like a couple of sappy dorks, then they would head to the cave and suit-up for a last minute patrol.

(And if they happened to stop on a roof and happened to see the beginning of the sun wash over the streets of the city from behind a layer of clouds and chase away the shadows, then there wouldn't be anyone around to notice.)