Chapter Text
Jason Peter Todd is known by various titles. A son, a brother, a friend, a soldier, a street rat. In the end none of those titles mattered. He died a kid. Not a solider, not anyone's son.
But one thing remained the same.
He was never irrational. He likes to think that all the decisions that led up to tonight were part of him that was always going to fall apart. And that rational part of him knew that no matter how hard he struggled, tonight was only going to end one way: in despair.
So let this be the final confrontation. A night neither of them will ever be able to forget.
"I won't-" Batman tried to take the lead like he always did. Like the control freak he was.
But not tonight. This isn't about what he has to say. this was about what Jason needs him to hear. To realize.
"This is it. This is the time you decide." Batman's gaze hardened. Maybe years ago Jason would have taken a step back from such a sight. Maybe secretly, when he thought no one was looking, he would scratch his arm with his nails until it bled. But he was no longer that kid.
He wasn't scared. He has already made up his mind.
"It's him or me. You have to decide." Feeling the Joker's chest heave in silent laughter, Jason tightens his grip on his throat.
A wheezing laughter escapes the Joker's throat nonetheless despite the tight grip around his neck. Jason's muscles lock for a moment and a chill runs down his spine, but no. No, this is his show. Neither the Joker nor Batman can scare him. Jason tightened his grip until the Joker's laughter stopped completely.
He loosened his grip a little, making sure he didn't choke the clown to death. You can't put on a show without the main cast.
Jason's momentary distress was completely forgotten by the reward he received seeing Batman's tense form.
"Stop this. Enough, you know I won't‐" oh, he knows.
Jason is fully aware that Batman is not willing to kill. To break that unshakable moral code of his. Not when his own life is involved, not when the lives of millions are involved.
But Jason didn't come here without any prior knowledge. He's never been one to not do his homework. He knows Batman went psycho mode after his death, he knows he almost has blood on his hands. He cared once. And that makes Jason wonder.
does he still care?
"If you won't kill this psychotic piece of filth—" Jason cursed his hand that shook as he raised the gun. His breath caught in his chest as the cold of the gun's muzzle clenched his jaw. He let out the breath he had been holding with the next words.
"I'II kill myself instead."
The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Jason suppressed a shiver and mourned the absence of his leather jacket.(Thanks to Batman.) He liked that jacket.
Jason waited. A reaction, a scowl , the slightest move of muscle, anything.
But Batman's face remained unfazed.
"Jason-" Embarrassingly instead of Jason's brain treating his approach as a threat, Batman's tone was what caused his muscles to tense.
How can someone sound so composed and yet so concerned at the same time?
"Oh! what a twist! Gotta hand it to the boy, even I didn't-" Jason's grip on the Joker tightened, almost fatally. He regretted not having pulled out the other's tongue when he had the chance.
Get a hold of yourself.
He still had a show to direct.
"It's me or him. Decide." He managed to get the words out despite the weight on his tongue. But his voice betrays him and instead of sounding determined and intimidating, it was shakey around the edges. But he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.
Why was this so hard for him?
Why pretend like he cares, like Jason's death meant something when he couldn’t even choose between his supposed son and his son killer's life?
Why can't you just chose me?
"I can't." Jason's lower lip trembled in frustration. Of course he can't. Because it was a very difficult choice to make between your son and a murderer.
But aren't you also a murderer? He shook his head. No, this was different. Jason was cleaning the city from scumbags. He was doing them a favour.
But Tim was just a kid. Was he also a part of your cleanup? That was...different.
He was a kid. He was hardly a kid.
Kids were no longer kids when they wore that costume. They were soldiers. And soldiers fell.
Just because you were just a soldier to him doesn't mean the others are too.
He stiffened. Suddenly the world felt like it was spinning around him, and the only reminder that he was still in that room with two of the most terrifying nightmares of his life was the gun that sent chills down his exposed skin beneath his torn gloves.
Was this it? Is that why everything was always so different when it comes to Jason?
"Son, please—" Jason had to stop himself from biting his tongue. I'm not your son. "Let me help you, we can fix this."
"Fix this," Jason mutters. He lowers the gun for a brief second without even realizing.
He's talking about fixing Jason. Like it was that easy. He didn't need to be fixed, this is who Jason is. When Jason pulled himself out of the grave, the kid who died in that grave was still there. The person who came out of him wasn't the Robin who died. It was something twisted and wrong. A pest that infected everyone with its negative emotions wherever it went.
A kid who was terrified of the world he had returned to and the only way to protect himself and his emotions was to cling to that overwhelming anger.
He only came to his senses when he saw Batman shift. and for a moment fear gripped him. he raised the gun again in warning.
"I don't need to be fixed! This is who I am, there's no going back." He cursed himself for the way his voice cracked. Why was Batman taking so long? Why don't you just make a decision and get us both out of this dance?
"I only want one thing from you," He lowered the gun again. Batman growls from the other side that filled Jason with frustration. "You promised me you'd do anything to keep me safe. You promised me you'd always be there for me, well, I need you now. I need to know that you-" I need to know that you care. I need to know that I wasn't just a soldier. I need to know that you really did lo—
No, no. This has to stop.
Someone is going to get shot tonight, whether it's the Joker or Jason.
Better if it's both.
"I'm here now. I'm here for you, son." Jason flinched. That wasn't Batman's tone. Goddamn it. he couldn't do that. Not like that. Not with that look. Something pinched in Bruce's eyes and that was when Jason noticed the wetness of his cheeks.
Please don't look at me like that. It'II kill me to know you can still look at me so softly while refusing to prioritise my life.
Jason shook his head.
"Not enough. This is not enough." he shakes his head frantically. "No one is safe as long as this death-worshipping parasite exists, I'm not safe. I need him gone, please, Dad. Only you can do it, it has to be you—" Jason knew he wasn't the same son Bruce had lost. God knows he knew. but why couldn't Bruce see that he needed his father now? That he had lost a father as much as Bruce had lost a son.
"I'm sorry," He says grimly. "I will give you anything, Jay. You know I would, but I... I can't do this one. Please don't ask me to." Jason felt all the tension drain from his body. In less than a second, all the emotions that had been eating him up inside simply left him. So this was the truth after all.
His life wasn't worth trying for. Why did he expect anything else? Bruce's son was long dead. So why would he care if the imposter also drops dead?
"So, this is your choice." Jason's tone was as empty as he felt.
he swung the gun around in his hand and shot the Joker in the temple In one smooth motion. His ears rang from the sound. the weight in his hands quickly loosened. He let go of the body in his hands without a care. Jason didn't even look up to watch the man's blood spread across the floor. He was dead. That's all that mattered.
Jason's job was done.
He didn't look up to see Batman's expression. He didn't need to see the disappointment on his face. He didn't want the last thing he remembered to be the darkness falling on the face of the man who was supposed to be his father.
"Jason-"
Jason didn't look up, he held the gun, still hot from the shot, under his chin and wrapped his fingers around the trigger. Just as his finger bent to pull the trigger, a chill covered his neck, shocking him for a second, and the pain shot through him just as quickly. His hand crooked from the shock of sharp pain and his fingers slipped on the trigger. his other hand covering his neck just as the world went white.
He couldn't breathe.
Oh, God. He couldn't fucking breathe—
Jason tried to exhale, but the only sound that came out was the wet sound of blood pooling in the back of his throat. His hand pressed against the gash in his neck. Blood spurted out from between his fingers.
Batman slitted his throat.
His eyes widened with a new urgency. Batman was in the same building with him. At best, he would finish the job if he could find him. At worst, he would do anything to make sure Jason stayed alive, to send him to Arkahm.
The Joker was dead. The main threat was gone but Jason couldn't—
He tried to get to his feet and fell on the first attempt. A strangled sob escaped his throat, tears soaking his cheeks, mixing with the blood on his face. He had to get out of here. Somewhere away from Batman, away from the threat.
He blinked through the tears only to be faced with a wide smile. Terror gripped his entire being and he fell back. Broken sobs escaped his throat at the fall. It took him a second that felt like years to remind himself that the Joker was dead.
He's dead But the threat remains still.
He pulled himself to his feet. He used his free hand, which he was sure had been dislocated, to brace himself, only to make the pain take over his entire being. It was okay, he had been through worse.
He can do it. It's going to be alright.
He dragged himself to the ground on shaky legs. His vision blurred every few seconds and his eyelids closed on their own. Jason didn't even remember when he had left the ruins. Everything passed like a blur and the only thing he could make out around him were muffled voices that he realized belonged to him.
It's alright, just get through this and you can rest.
His legs only gave way when he reached an alleyway. He crawled on the ground, his body shaking all over as he reached dumpster and leaned against it.
So this was it.
Jason Peter Todd Wayne, bleeding out in an filthy Alley just like how he always meant to. He was hoping he could die by that bullet. At least it was a death by his own hands, but now?
He was going to die by the hands of his own father and wasn't that iconic? His self righteous father who wasn't even willing to kill a rapist is now the killer of his son.
Jason felt an fanciful urge to stick his hand into the crevice of his neck and stab himself there until his skin was completely bare to the cold Gotham air, until the cause of his death was still himself despite everything that went down. But it was too much trouble and he was tried.
He could've been free. Could've been at peace of Bru— Batman hasn't intervened. Jason should feel frustrated. Let anger take over his being until the worms eat him up and nothing remains.
But he wasn't angry.
A new wave of tears wet his cheeks. No, he wasn't angry. He was hurt. Both physically and mentally.
He used to feel a bit grateful for once in his life for the pit's healing factor when he was in a fight, it was one of the rare times where it was actually useful. but now? Now even that one good quality it had is a curse to him. All he wanted was a quick death. He didn't care if he went to hell for the crimes he had committed this time. he just wanted this to be over.
"Jason!" Jason shifts in horror. No.nonono—
Jason was pulled away from the dumpster and his head rested on a board chest-plate. He tried to back away in terror, to escape at any cost, but the grip was strong and unshakable. A larger hand replaced Jason's own and placed itself over the gap. He let out a whine that was out of a mixture of pain and frustration at the touch.
Don't fucking touch me, please, don't-
"I know, baby. I know, It's going to be alright," A choked sob escaped Jason's throat. Please don't do this.
Jason could make out through his blurry vision that Bruce's mouth was moving, but the words were constantly muffled by the white noise that came and went. Jason didn't care. He just wanted to get out of here. He just wanted to find a safe place to die in peace.
"You're safe. I got you" He's not. He was not safe. Why was Batman lying to him? Was this his punishment for coming near his family? for killing the Joker?
"It's alright, it's okay, I got you." It was not. "You're going to be okay." No. He hasn't been okay for a long time. Still, Jason could do nothing but cling to Bruce's chest. Silent tears streaming down his face. his energy fading as time passed, and all he wished was for it to end sooner.
Even when Batman put his hands under Jason's knees and lifted him up, Jason wasn't safe. when he was placed in the back seat of the Batmobile, He wasn't safe.
He was never safe.