Hey guys! So… This has been circling in my head for a while now and, despite having not finished my other story…. I just started writing. So, here it begins… ONWARD!

Chapter 1

Jason Todd stood on the verge of total breakdown, his body and mind collapsing in on itself. The senseless creature stood over him. The blows just wouldn't stop. He didn't know how much more of this he could take, how much more before the insanity overtook him completely.

His heart fluttered with hope when the next blow was delayed. His mind knew better, could see the smile twisting on the being's nauseating face. And yet… there it was. The Joker fell back, away from Jason. For the first time that night, he felt joy at the sound of flesh hitting the floor.

He let himself breathe, wincing as he did. Everything hurt, his body, his mind, his spirit… yet none were broken. A few more blows and Jason knew they would have been, and that scared Jason more than anything that had happened that night. He let out a weak groan of pain before opening his eyes. "'bout time," he murmured. The figure before him now was shrouded in shadows, menacing, yet… oddly comforting. Maybe his years at Batman's side had taught him to trust the darkness rather than the light. Either way, this new presence emanated raw power, something that made the blood-soaked hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Sorry, Jay, but daddy's not coming." He did not recognize the voice and, despite his best efforts, Jason felt fear rising in him again. Maybe the Joker wasn't down yet; maybe this was just another ploy, a way to lift the boy's fragile spirits before crushing them with the finality that only that damnable crowbar could achieve.

"W-Who a-are you?" A weak, feminine voice asked from across the room. Jason had almost forgotten her in his agony. His mother, Sheila Haywood. The one that had betrayed him… Pain welled up, worse than any of the excruciating blows that Joker had landed.

"Have you forgotten me, mother dearest? Although, by the look of things, I don't think I want your 'remembrance'," The man whispered dangerously.

Jason vaguely heard his mother release a hiss of anger. His eyes had closed – when had that happened? Everything was… fading.

"Hold on there, kid, I'll get you out of this mess. You're… just…. Relax." Jason ceased hearing the man and his world spun around him at a dizzying pace. He coughed, though it hurt, and then let the floor fall out from under him. He let himself fall into unconsciousness.

…

When Jason came to he saw bright lights. He heard the crackle of fire and he wondered why everything sounded so… warped. Closing and opening his heavy lids yielded a clearer image. The warehouse he had been in was maybe about three miles below him. He watched as something dark moved among the dancing flames. Bruce… His heart felt heavy, he wanted to call out to his father-figure, yet something held him back. As Jason's awareness slowly returned to him, he realized that someone sat beside him.

"I'm glad to see your alive after all of that."

"'M a resilient kid." Jason mumbled slowly, it felt like rocks were in his mouth, keeping him from speaking. Talking hurt, as did breathing. His lungs were battered and rubbing uncomfortably against his broken ribs.

"Or perhaps resilient genes." The man said. The Boy Wonder eyed him warily. Jason estimated that he was about 6'3" at full height, 200 lbs. Each movement he made was somewhat graceful, yet obviously powerful. It reminded Jason of both Bruce and Grayson. The refinement of an acrobat combined with the muscle of the strong man. It was a balance of sorts. There was no way Jason could escape if this guy wanted to keep him here. Not now, anyways, not with his body rebelliously refusing to obey his mind's commands.

The man shifted, turned his gaze to look at Jason. The teal- green color of his eyes, the strong set of his jaw, even his raven black hair color… it was like looking in a reflection. Jason's eyes widened. "My name, is Jaxon Haywood. Sheila's firstborn brat," the man said.

There was an unconquerable silence between them. Jason stared at those eyes that were too much like his own to deny it. His lip quivered, anticipating… well, anticipating some sort of action. When none came he relaxed visibly. There was nothing he could do. "Nice to meet you, bro." Jason said with all the childish insubordination he could muster. The man shook with laughter, watching Jason warily scoot back away from him.

"You can call me Jax. You're one lucky kid, Jason. It just so happens that you and I came here for the same reason. To see Mommy dearest." He gestured to the wreckage below them just as Bruce lifted the very limp form of Sheila Haywood from the rubble. "I only had time to save one. I chose my little brother," Jax whispered seriously.

Jason watched for a moment, remembering the steady background beeping of a bomb in the warehouse. He nodded his understanding. Anger over what his mother had done seethed within him; it boiled up to the surface. Then he let it all go in a puff of air before falling onto his back and letting sleep steal him away. again.

…

Batman searched among the rubble for almost an hour. Long after the authorities had arrived and taken the dead, burned body of Sheila Haywood away. The Joker had been nowhere in sight, but that was to be expected. What the Dark Knight hadn't expected was to find no trace of Robin… no trace of Jason. He was sure that his partner had been taken, so what had happened? Where was… where was the body. Common sense told him that if the boy had been close enough to the epicenter of the blast that it would have disintegrated. But Bruce refused to believe that. He didn't have it in him to believe that his son was dead…

That's when he saw it. The flash of color. He ran to it, and then realized what it was. He lifted the bloodstained cloth from the ground. The tears fell freely now as he read the single letter emblazoned there: "R".

He felt a sense of déjà vu, the son had lost both parents and now… the parent had lost the son. The familiar ache returned in his chest and his shoulders felt heavy with the burden of guilt. My son…. My partner. My soldier. My fault.

…

When The Batman rose from his place of mourning, he found that the authorities had gone. No one was here to see the pain weighing down each of The Dark Knight's steps. If there was an attack now, he had no doubt he would lose. His alter ego faltered and then shattered, feeling the unrequited finality of the situation; the absolute defeat of having to walk away from a fight without the smaller frame that had stood by him for over four years. Conversely, Bruce Wayne sensed the crushing heartache that came with the loss of a child. Rather than defeat, Bruce felt utter darkness; he felt a loss of unrelenting proportions. This cut him deeply, so profoundly that Bruce had no idea how to crawl his way back from it.

The Batman did. Taking over, the Bat thrust himself forward through the debris. The grief was gone now, replaced with a white hot rage that burned pure and bright in his dark soul. This side of Bruce Wayne held his head high, planning all the ways he would make The Joker pay for this. Batman would make the psychotic filth pay for leaving a father without even a body to bury.

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