Painted Red- (Young Justice)

|Chapter-Five|

Gore's disinterested eyes averted from the cell wall to the shadow that begun to loom over through the metal bars. A smile broke his blank look.

"Batsy!" He chirped, a mirthful sparkling in his eyes. The assassin paused, falling silent as Batman's glare worsened.

It was expected really, but he shouldn't have been the only one getting backlash.

Scoffing, Gore rolled his eyes. "What are you brooding about now?" He hissed, and Batman growled.

"You attacked Superboy; that's an offense in itself, you'd think." The caped crusader shot back, gaze narrowing. "I thought they could handle you while I was busy, but I guess not."

The red-eyed assassin snickered. "You're a fool, then, Bats, if you thought they could in the first place. They can't even manage their team correctly."

Batman knew he was right, but instead of admitting it, he stubbornly avoided that topic. "You have been difficult. The League doesn't want to deal with you, and you threatened the Team. You cannot stay here."

Interested, Gore rose a brow.

"I'll return you to Arkham Asylum tonight."

The assassin jolted where he sat. "No!" Gore hissed, reaching forward to inflict a death-grip on the cell bar. "I am not going back to that place!"

The dark knight gave him an unimpressed look. "You have caused enough trouble here. I am not dropping the case, but I am looking out for the Team's safety as a priority over your own."

"Low blow, B." Gore drawled with a cringe. He turned towards the wall, settling back into a casual sit. "Don't take me back— I'm sorry."

Batman frowned. "We're way past sorries."

—•—

"Welcome back you little shit." Spat out a guard, and Gore would've grinned sharply at him if it weren't for the muzzle over his mouth. Annoyed, his red eyes narrowed at the man, but all he did was laugh.

He could only assume that his stuff was returned to the warden, and if that was so, Zika and all of his other belongings were long gone.

Returning back to solitary confinement wasn't something Gore expected to happen on a Friday night, but he sort of wished they didn't bind his wrists together with fucking metal. Now his hands would smell like he murdered a dozen people who had a bit too much iron in their blood, but at least they had momentarily freed him of the muzzle now that he was alone.

It sucks to suck.

Gore leaned against the far corner in his silence, sulking darkly. Maybe he should've eaten something before attacking Superboy.

Still, he begun to daze off, nesting into the corner, eyes half-lidded.

What caught his undivided attention was the sounds just behind his door; like nails scraping against the metal. The lock rattled, and he heard it fall to the ground with a clang.

His eyes trailed back to the side, ignoring the person who slipped in.

A mistake on his part, really, but he didn't want to be bothered.

"Grayson."

The assassin stopped cold, hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Gore peered at the newcomer from the corner of his eye. "Get out." He commanded stiffly, fingers twitching.

The newcomer snorted, stepping closer and closer, knowing that it would put the red-eyed other on edge. "Project PRI has been successful thus far." They hummed, stopping in the middle of the room, choosing to ignore Gore's hateful glares. "We've honed it. I'm sure you've heard word of it? It would be impossible not to."

"Get out." Gore tried again, weaker this time, and the man laughed.

"Would you like a demonstration of the work-in-progress?"

Gore slid up against the wall to stand on his feet. "Step any closer and I'll maul you." He said lowly, and the cocky look in his foe's eyes heightened.

"That's the point."

The next day, he was put in a straight jacket.

—•—

"Hey Bats." Gore greeted, grinning easily, eyes half-lidded. His head tilted slightly to the side. "How's the case going?"

Batman took a seat across from the criminal, taking in how his wrists were bounded to the metal table. "Two days ago, a man entered your cell. Some have said that he was a prison guard, and others have said he was another prisoner. Who was he?"

Gore closed his eyes, almost sleepily, before they opened again just as quickly, sparkling with mischief. "I dunno." He said, shrugging. "But he pissed me off."

"He must have 'pissed you off' pretty badly, then, taking into consideration that the situation was handled especially violently." The vigilante commented lowly. "I find it hard to believe you did it all while handcuffed."

"He pissed me off." Gore repeated again, defensively, a little smile on his face. Then, he shrugged. "What can I say? I'm trigger happy."

"You killed a man."

"Do you seriously not know what trigger happy means?"

Batman growled at the younger boy, and he fell quiet. "More and more cases just like your own have been showing up. I know this is of your doing... some way or another. You're the only murderer that seemed to have gone through without killing themselves as well."

"What the fuck," started Gore, "I'm I gonna do in a cell?"

The vigilante paused, eyes narrowing. "I'm beginning to believe you're a danger everywhere." He stated dryly, knowing he was stating the obvious, and Gore gave him an unamused look.

"And what are ya gonna do about it? Hit my wrist and put me on time-out?" Gore sneered, leaning a bit closer. "I can kill anyone I see, anywhere. The blood on my hands does not scare me, and I will only add to the corpses I have piled up on my consciousness."

"And that's why I'm taking you to the Batcave."

Gore recoiled. "Did you— did you not hear a word I said, Batman?!"

The bat nodded. "I heard." He confirmed. "But I'd rather not leave you here where you could kill just anyone. There are hardly any visitors in the Batcave; it would be easier to keep track of you and your... murders."

The assassin rolled his eyes, fists clenching before they relaxed again.

At least he wouldn't be in the Asylum.