It was dark, Jason knew that for sure. He thought he might have heard a dripping sound in the distance, and it smelled like dirty river water. All the details he could put together implied he was in a sewer of some sort, but he couldn't remember anything about how he'd gotten there. He felt like it had something to do with Kory, but the feeling was far from concrete.

The darkness itself wasn't so bad. However, he could sense that the space he was in was extremely small, and he'd kinda had a thing about extremely small spaces ever since clawing his way out of his own coffin. Feeling around with his hands, he came into contact with four completely smooth, completely solid walls. Feeling a little stupid, he put his hands up and waved, feeling for a ceiling. Nothing. He jumped. Same results.

Well, he thought with some resignation, at least it isn't actually a grave.

Suddenly, the room was flooded with harsh, bright light. Jason blinked away the spots dancing in front of his eyes, and noticed two things right away. First, whatever he was standing in was completely clear. So much so, he had to touch the walls again to make sure they were still there. Second, and the more urgent of the two, there was a body on the floor.

The person's face was turned to the left, facing away from Jason, but there was no doubt about who it could be. His long, ginger hair was splayed around his head and the faded, blue baseball cap that usually covered it lay discarded on the floor a few feet from its owner. A tattoo of a green snake wrapped around his right bicep. The costume he wore was a brighter red, from the archery gloves that only covered his middle, pointer, and ring fingers all the way to his boots. It was Roy.

Jason slammed the barrier in front of him, trying to get it to give way.

"ROY!" he shouted, pounding it with his fists. He wasn't sure whether Roy was dead or unconscious, but he couldn't just stand there doing nothing, whether it was too late or not. Then he saw it: a long smear of blood across the floor, like a body had been dragged somewhere, but it didn't end at Roy's prone form. Rather, it started a few feet away from him and led somewhere else. Jason followed the trail with his eyes, already certain of what he'd find.

A pair of purple boots were the only part of Kory that was visible behind a pile of crates, but it was enough. There was blood splattered everywhere, more than enough to make Jason certain the Tamaranean was already dead.

"Kory," he whispered, leaning against the barrier for support. He was alive and his only friends weren't, whatever had happened must have been his fault. He closed his eyes, hoping whatever had killed Roy and Kory would come back so he could rip it apart with his bare hands.

"Well, well," came an eerie and all too familiar voice. Jason's eyes flew open, but no one was there. "Jason Todd, the last man standing!"

The Joker stepped out of the shadows, his arms spread wide, his rotting face held in a permanent maniacal grin. There were bloodstains on the dirty workboots and coveralls he wore. He crouched down beside Roy. The archer twitched. Despite the panic gripping Jason, he felt a split second of relief as well. Roy was still alive, he could still be saved, if Jason could figure out how to escape.

"This is going to be sooo much fun!" The Joker cackled, running a gloved finger down Roy's chest. Roy groaned weakly, shaking his head.

Jason burned with rage.

"Leave him alone, or I swear, I will kill you. Hell, I'll probably kill you anyway, but I'll make it hurt way more if you kill him."

He pounded against the barrier as he spoke, trying like hell to get between what was left of his friends and the monster who killed him. It didn't budge.

The Joker paused, his finger still resting on Roy's midsection. Then, surprisingly, he stood up.

"Of course I wasn't going to hurt your little pal, Jason!" he said, walking around Roy toward where Jason stood. "After all, it's always about you, isn't it?"

Their faces were inches from each other now. Flies buzzed around the Joker's peeling face, and Jason had to fight the urge to gag at the stench of rotting flesh.

"So this is the part where you try to kill me, then?" Jason said almost coolly, staring into his enemy's crazed eyes.

The Joker shook his head. "Oh no, dear boy, not kill you. This is the part where I destroy you!"

He burst into laughter.

"You killed me once, and I'm still standing. Hell," he gestured across the room. Something nagged at him, a small detail he seemed to be forgetting, but he ignored it, "you murdered Kory and I'm still standing. You think adding one more body to the pile is gonna change anything? Good fucking luck."

He was bluffing, of course. He carried the weight of everyone who'd died because of him every second of every day. Even Sheila, and she'd betrayed him in the first place. Kory's death was already pressing against his chest like a lead weight.

"Now that's just not fair, birdbrain," the Joker pouted, crossing his arms, "I didn't do a thing to Starfire!" He wagged a finger at Jason. "Credit where credit is due."

"Then who did? Your imaginary friend?"

"No," a new voice said, "I did."

From behind the stack of crates, another person emerged. He was clad in thick Kevlar body armor, a leather jacket, and heavy boots. The armor was completely black, save for an angular, stylized red bat symbol on the chest. The man's blue-green eyes looked too old for his face, which couldn't have been much more than twenty-one at most, and a stark white streak stood out in his thick black hair. There was a bloody crowbar casually swinging from his gloved right hand.

Jason stared at the mirror image of himself. That's what had been off before, he realized. The Joker had been unarmed. The other Jason grinned at him and waved.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked casually.

Jason didn't answer, and tore his eyes away from his counterpart to look at the Joker, who watched the silent exchange with barely contained glee.

"What the hell is this?" Jason snarled.

"What? Haven't you looked in a mirror lately?" The Joker paused mid-taunt to give Jason a disdainful once-over. "Hmm, maybe not."

He and the other Jason both laughed at the dig. The original Jason fumed.

"Obviously, I'm you," the second Jason cast a quick glance at Roy before putting air quotes around his last word, "'Jaybird.'"

Jason lunged at his double, smacking painfully into the barrier. "Shut up!"

"Okay, maybe I should rephrase that," the second Jason said with some consideration. "I'm the new and improved you. Jason Todd, sans all the bitchy, sentimental bullshit that used to make him so weak! I mean, look at yourself! When you watched me kill Kory, you screamed at me until you passed out and apparently forgot everything that just happened. Pathetic."

"You're not me." Jason shook his head, trying to process what was happening. "You may look like me, but you're just some cheap imitation. I would never reduce myself to working with that," he spat, pointing at the Joker.

"Who? Lil' ol' me?" The Joker pressed his hands to his chest in mock offense. "Hurtful, Jason. Very hurtful."

"Shut up."

"Aww, turn that frown upside down, kiddo! We've only gotten started! We're going to have so much more fun together!"

Jason pointedly ignored him. Instead, he focused his anger back on his double.

"How can you work with him?" he asked. "Don't you remember what he did to you?"

The other Jason held up his crowbar and waved it indicatively. "Of course I do. He made us stronger."

"Bullshit!"

The other Jason almost seemed surprised by this reaction. "Really? Don't you remember who we were before? An obnoxious fifteen year old, freezing to death in the shadow of the Bat? He only saw us as a replacement for his favorite, you know that. Just some stupid dark-haired, blue eyed kid he could stick in Dick's place to maybe try and forget that his golden boy son didn't need him anymore. Batman is a selfish prick and he never loved us. And it took him letting us die for us to become our own person."

"You know I don't believe that anymore," Jason said, shaking his head.

"Looks like I'm less stupid than you, too," the other Jason replied. His grip on the crowbar tightened. "Have you forgotten that we don't need anyone? You're getting soft. But I'm prepared to fix that."

Jason was pretty sure he knew what would happen next and felt his stomach twist.

"Don't," he said forcefully, but his double was already walking towards where Roy lay.

"By the way, Bruce and Ollie are on their way," he called over his shoulder. He said it as casually as though he were discussing the weather. "Now that's a teamup that never gets old, I'm pretty sure those two hate each other. But even if they do manage to get along," he was standing over Roy now, deciding something, "they won't make it in time. Wakey wakey, Arsenal!" He kicked Roy in the ribs. "You don't wanna miss this!"

"Don't!" Jason repeated.

Roy stirred, turning his head to look plaintively at Jason. His green eyes were wide behind the strings of sweaty ginger hair falling into his face, and his chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.

"Jaybird," he whispered, "help."

The Joker was nearly bouncing with glee as the first swing of Jason 2.0's crowbar collided with Roy's ribs. Roy cried out in pain, writhing on the floor as the second swing of the crowbar cracked across one of his knees. Jason's fevered hammering against the barrier increased.

"Stop!" he yelled as his double and the Joker laughed.

A third swing of the crowbar broke Roy's collarbone.

"JASON, PLEASE!" he screamed, "DON'T JUST STAND THERE!"

"I'm trying!" Jason yelled back, his desperation growing.

The fourth and fifth hits ripped gashes in Roy's body armor. The sixth smashed one of his hands.

"Why won't you do anything?" His voice was growing weaker.

"I'm trying!" Jason repeated, but he could feel his stamina decreasing. What if he couldn't do anything in time?

The other Jason, however, only seemed to be picking up steam. His blows became more rapid, blood flowing from his victim in increasing amounts. Roy shuddered, blood spilling from his mouth. He didn't have long.

Jason's chest felt so tight he could barely breathe as he continued pounding the barrier and yelling. He knew there was nothing he could do, but he had to do it anyway. He had to try.

He yelled until his throat burned and his mouth dried out. Roy's cries grew weaker and weaker.

"Roy," Jason rasped, his voice feeling like knives in his throat, "I'm sorry."

The archer didn't move. The other Jason paused his assault. With the toe of his boot, he nudged Roy's chin. His head flopped lifelessly to the side, giving Jason the full view of his battered face. His eyes were glassy and devoid of anything resembling life.

Wordlessly, his face completely impassive, the other Jason knelt down beside Roy, set the crowbar aside on the floor, and pressed two fingers to either side of Roy's throat, right below his jawbone. After a few seconds, he nodded.

"It's about damn time," he said to himself, grabbing the crowbar and standing up. "Should've drugged him harder than Kory."

"You what?" Jason's voice was barely above a whisper, but it was dangerous nonetheless. The others had never even had a fighting chance. Did Roy and Kory know they'd been drugged, or had they not realized what was happening? They had to have, considering ordinary sedatives wouldn't be effective on Kory's alien physiology. Had Roy's last moments been filled with memories of the lowest points of his life?

Suddenly, an image forced its way into his subconscious: Ollie discovering Roy's body, covered in drying blood and lying far too still, but still hoping against hope there was a chance. He'd check frantically for a pulse, already knowing he wouldn't find one. Would he carry Roy's body out on his own, feeling the weight of the son he couldn't save against his chest every step of the way? Or would he ask Bruce to do it instead, volunteering to carry Kory so he was less likely to break down?

The other Jason ignored the question and approached his twin.

"Originally," he said, "we were going to let you live. You seeing Ollie's face when he realized you got his son killed would've been the icing on the cake of this whole endeavor. But then," he circled Jason like a hungry shark, "I had a better idea. You and I always did want to destroy Bruce for not avenging us, right? What better way to do that than dying the same way twice in a row, him arriving too late to save us both times? I mean, damn, that'd have to suck! Tell me, now that he knows resurrection is possible, do you think he'll try to bring you back? Or do you think he'll be too scared of what might happen?"

The Joker clapped his hands and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "I feel so proud!" he crowed.

The real Jason smirked.

"If you wanna kill me," he said as evenly as he could, and then knocked on the barrier, "you're gonna have to let me out. And you might have the advantage weapon-wise, but I happen to be pissed," he was full-on smiling now, "and I think we both know what I'm like when I'm pissed. Or at least, I hope you do."

"Ooh," the Joker pressed a hand to his mouth, "somebody get me some popcorn!"

Both Jasons ignored him. The double shrugged.

"I guess that's a chance I'm just gonna have to take," he said, and raised his weapon, Roy and Kory's blood still glistening on it.

With a single swing of the crowbar, the invisible barrier shattered with a sound like an entire building's worth of windows breaking. Invisible shards of whatever it had been made of rained down on Jason, cutting and scratching every bit of exposed skin they touched.

Recovering quickly, he dodged a second crowbar strike and launched himself at the other Jason, then felt a sudden jolt through his entire body. His eyes flew open, and he was staring at a white plaster ceiling, an itchy carpet beneath him.

He sat up slowly, and unpeeled sweat-drenched white sheets from his body. He was eye level with the foot of a bed, where Roy and Kory were both asleep, Roy snoring obnoxiously.

He ran a shaky hand through his sweaty hair, grounded once again in reality. He never thought he'd be so happy to be in a shitty no-tell motel with a busted air conditioner.

Just a dream, he thought. Just your average, run of the mill nightmare.

He lay back down on his makeshift floor bed, then abruptly sat back up again. Searching by feel through the tray of coffee supplies, he located and grabbed a plastic-wrapped paper cup. He tested its weight a few times in his hand, then hurled it at Roy and watched it bounce harmlessly off his friend's forehead.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, asshole," Jason whispered affectionately. Roy groaned and flipped over without waking up. Jason pointed at Kory. "You either, okay?"

With that, he flopped back onto his pillow and completely failed to go back to sleep.