His body ached. His most definitely broken various ribs were on fire and his punctured lungs were numb and cold. At least, he was mostly sure that his lung was punctured. It was possible that the pain was causing to hallucinate, he didn't think that it was natural cough up that much blood without having severe internal damage. Oh, who was he kidding? He was in terrible shape. His left leg was broken in at least two places, one arm was dislocated, one of his eyes was swollen shut, and he could barely think straight, not to mention the numerous cuts, stab wounds, and bruises that littered his body. Though the injuries weren't even the worst of it. It was the gleaming, beady eyes that flashed with joy and insane madness that watched his every move. "...and tell the Big Man I say, "Hello"." When the clown had left, he had silently gasped with relief to be out of sight of the twin orbs that contained the windows to some evil, twisted, mind. As he struggled to feet, he became aware of a minute ticking noise.

Tick. Tick. Tick. A bomb. Great. He just couldn't catch a break recently. First, the League doubted him, a sentiment no doubt echoed by the Team. Then, he had yet another argument with Bruce about his "arrogance and impulsiveness".

30...

He understood what Bruce was talking about now, but he would never admit aloud that Bruce was right.

25...

He hoped that Dick or Bruce would be here soon.

20...

He had done everything that Batman had taught him to do in a kidnapping and torture situation, surely he deserved to be let off the hook for following directions for once?

15...

They were cutting it very close.

10...

Bruce would bust down the doors any minute now and rescue him. He'd even apologize to Bruce and admit he was right.

5...

"Please hurry."

1...

"They're not coming. I'm all alo-"

"JASON!"

In hindsight, the Team should have paid better attention when to Nightwing's reaction when he answered an incoming call from Batman on his comm link. His shocked gasp and horrified face slowly draining of blood were subtle indicators that something was amiss. Then, he sprinted to the zeta tubes like his life depended on it, a blatantly obvious sign that something was terribly wrong. However, the individual members of the Team were more interested with their personal lives or what they currently were doing. In fact, their attention was so occupied that they barely noticed his state or rushed leave. Hindsight however, was 20/20 and the members of the Team that were closer to late Jason Todd couldn't help but think that it was somehow their faults. Artemis and Raquel especially, as they had bonded with the tough kid from a notorious 'hood, who's past was similar to both of them. There was nothing they could have done anyway.

We should have appreciated every moment with you more.

There was really nothing that could have been done, (in the opinion of most senior leaguers) to prevent the inevitable; the second Robin was too aggressive and didn't possess as finely honed skills as the first. However, his contagious enthusiasm to impress Batman had blinded them to Batman's poor judgement and they, much like the Team, found themselves feeling that they should have done something.

We should have seen this coming from afar; we should have known better.

Forget even trying to reason with Bruce. He knew it was his fault, despite Dick's arguments otherwise; you could take a kid off the streets, but not the streets off the kid. Jason was the most stubborn, rebellious teenager that Bruce had ever known. And that's what was killing him. He should have known that Jason would pursue the Joker even when it brought unnecessary risk to his life. He had heard the whispers among the League about Jason's lack of skill in comparison to Dick and knew the boy had to. Jason had desperately tried to prove he was as talented a crimefighter as Dick leading him to make the suicidal decisions that lead to his demise. And it was Bruce's fault. If he had reassured him, been a more pleasant person, hell, been a better father, this wouldn't have happened.

It's all my fault that he's dead. I should have never dragged an innocent into my crusade. Just more blood on my hands. I never got to tell you this, but I'm sorry.

Alfred just sadly looked at the small grave nestled in between the two larger graves. It was a brobdingnagian amount of respect and honor that Bruce must've had for Jason, in order to bury him between the late Thomas and Martha Wayne. "Not an ounce too little." he mused.