Wow. Uh. Hi. Haha. It's been a while now, hasn't it. Oops! Sorry everyone, it's been crazy hectic here in Florida after Irma and the myriad storms that have been flooding the Island since. Working at a clinic kind of sucks when everyone needs help! Plus power being out for an extended period of time sucks in 90 degree weather and blah blah blah – sorry this is so late! But here it is! What should be the penultimate chapter of this fic. (also sorry this is unbeta'd) Enjoy!

Chapter 14: The Enemy Within

The young man watched as the fire roared and crackled, feasting on the open ground before and around it. It was an unnatural flame, far brighter than it should be in the midafternoon sun, yet the heat emanating off it was unmistakable, forcing a tremor to echo in his bones. The familiarity of the event left his aching for more, and he sat down heavily on the frosty ground just to escape what was surely to be a heated moment. There on the ground, he adjusted his baseball cap, running his fingers through bright orange waves of hair.

He glanced around, his hand trailing over vibrant green grass – vibrant in a way it shouldn't be considering the temperature outside. The grounds were immaculate, even the trees which were dying with the onset of winter were well maintained like the rest of the place. And "place" was an understatement if ever there was one. It didn't quite exemplify the size of the damn place – likely more than five to eight acres of property neatly lined with a high cement fence with wrought iron finishes to bar all but the most determined outsider. And that was only the lead up to the most impressive feature to the property: the manor itself.

Wayne Manor was an impressive three stories tall, a mixture of gothic architecture and modern luxury alike. It was built on a hill, where the expansive stone driveway led to a massive garage that no doubt held more than ten ultra-luxury cars and SUVs. This, which led directly upward to the manor proper via a winding staircase lined with expensive-looking and exotic plants and shrubbery. The doorway, an imposing and medieval depiction of glass and iron, had the potential to intimidate even the most affluent of society. Scaffolding and towers reached for the sky, seemed to darken the world rather than provide shade in the middle of an overcast day. Glass windows stretched the length of some rooms, whereas others had only one or two windows with drawn heavy curtains. All in all, the place was more like a modern-day castle than an ultra-rich playboy's playground. It made Oliver's three-billion-dollar penthouse look like a glorified bachelor pad. More than that, the manor lent weight to the idea that there was more to Gotham's resident billionaire than met the eye.

It was impossible to tell that there had been a fire here not twenty-four hours earlier.

"I think that's enough, Kori."

The alien spared only a single glance in his direction before loosing a terrifying battle cry and smashing her fist into the ground, now soft and pliant from the heat. "Why were we not told sooner?" Her wrath turned fully against him, and he shrank from that fiery gaze.

"I don't know."

"X'hal." She spat, her feet finally touching the ground. The radiating waves of her outrage slowly cooled, though she still melted the snow as it began to fall around her. "I should have been here."

"He said he needed time," Roy said quietly, "We gave him time."

"And now he is missing!"

"And now, he's missing."

Roy looked away, burying his face in his palms and squeezing his temples. They'd flown in only a few short hours before, only to be left on the lawn by an old man, the one that Jason had once called his grandfather. Alfred, Roy's mind supplied. Alfred had invited them here, had asked them for their help in finding not only the wayward bird, but the whole family as well. The old man returned not long after, carrying a pot of tea and three cups.

"Excuse the surroundings. I'm afraid the manor is in quite the state of disrepair," He said. The fire, as he'd said, had done some damage to the manor before the backup sprinkler system had kicked in. The water damage, combined with the scorch marks, left an ugly picture on the inside. "Repairs are already underway, but I'm afraid I must insist that you remain outside for the time being. You two are not exactly…" He paused, lifting one delicate eyebrow. "incognito."

That explained the need to stay out in the cold.

But Starfire wasn't exactly the master of subtlety anyway.

"Fair enough," Roy said, taking the teacup when it was extended to him. "So, any leads on Jason?"

Kori landed a few feet away, taking her own cup between two hands. Roy smiled when steam rose between her fingers, the tea boiling from the heat of her body.

"I have Master Jason's location, yes."

Roy stood quickly, only just avoiding the hot tea splashing out of his teacup. "Then what are we waiting for?!"

The old man rocked back on his feet, looking uncomfortable. "I'm afraid that it is a bit awkward, but-"

"Where is he!?"

The sound of a booming voice drew their attention from the old man to the newest arrivals to Wayne Manor.

Roy had heard rumors about these two, had heard stories about their escapades whenever Jaybird had deigned to talk about them. They were certainly a sight to behold. The redhead was muscular, her uniform a glittering black with highlights of crimson. She was held aloft by the strong arms of a rather pale version of Superman. This was the clone then, the reproduction named Bizarro, a simpleton with a heart of gold and an instant friend to the likes of one Jason Todd. The super clone had apparently undergone some sort of transformation – and recently too, if Roy's own reports had been even halfway accurate – for he had a look of pure venom on his features now, eyes searching the grounds of Wayne Manor for any sign of their lost friend.

The Amazonian – Artemis, if Roy recalled – landed but a moment later, the shockwaves absorbing into the frozen ground. She scowled at the three of them, her green eyes glittering dangerously. "Is this supposed to be a joke?" She asked incredulously, one ginger brow raised as she stood up.

"Xha'l," Kori whispered from beside him.

"Uh. Please to meet you, I'm –"

"Unimportant. Probably useless," Artemis cut him off. "I have only one purpose. To find My friend." Her eyes narrowed menacingly, "Tell me what you know of his disappearance."

"…Right." Roy said, fully intending to move on and get to the disappearing part.

"You will show us respect, Amazon." Kori's voice held a measure of the fire inside, of the glow in her fists. "We have cared for him for much longer than you."

The larger woman snorted rudely, eyes trailing up and down her body. "And that is why he was abandoned? Facing Black mask alone? Where were you when he needed you, Princess."

The light in Kori's fists grew brighter, and she raised her arm in outrage, preparing for a fight. "You-"

"That's quite enough." A delicate cough interrupted the brewing storm. Alfred stepped between the two groups, fists lightly clenched at his sides. "None of this is helping master Jason. I have his location, but we must work together if we are to free him and the others."

"Others?" Roy asked.

"Indeed. It would seem that Master Jason was not the only one stolen out from under our noses. His father and brothers have been taken as well." The old man paused, catching an early snowflake on the tip of his gloved finger. "If we delay any further, I'm afraid it will be too late."

At that, both teams bowed their heads, animosity momentarily forgotten.

But only momentarily.

"Give me the coordinates and I will bring him safely away," Artemis said.

"We will all go, we will all bring them back," The old man replied, straightening his collar. "Master Jason has been through a terrible ordeal and he will need each of you now more than ever – despite your growing need to tear one another apart." His eyes lifted from the ground, coming to rest on each of them in turn. "You will cease this useless fighting and help me find my grandson or, so help me, I will ensure that you never see him again." The last was spoken with a deadly edge that bellied the fragile appearance of the old man, it spoke of old wounds and battlefields long gone.

"You…" Artemis let out a long huff of air, her face softening minutely, "… Are right." She turned back to Kori, and more of the coldness leached from her tone. "I apologize. I must seem ungrateful, but nothing could be farther from the truth. You are well respected among my people."

At last, the fire that had been building in Kori's palms quieted, and then died out. The princess of Tamaran shook herself. "I have heard of your exploits, they are… impressive."

Artemis nodded to her, a grudging respect budding between the two warrior women.

"right then," Alfred rasped, turning back toward Wayne Manor. "If you will follow me, we should get going."

Artemis and Kori began to speak quietly, side-by-side as they followed the butler, while Roy fell into step beside the mountain of a man Jason now called friend.

"I is Bizarro," The clone chimed in.

Roy smiled, genuine and unfaltering as he reached out his hand, "Season's greetings, from one outlaw to another."

It took a while, but eventually they heard it.

Screams. Followed quickly by the thunder of bullets striking the cave walls. Tim cursed, drilling through the wall at a quicker pace.

"Damnit, Jason," Dick said. "Damnit, damnit."

"How's that digging going, Tim?"

"Almost through," He said, just as the rock fell away and light shone through the small hole. "Eureka!" He all but screamed.

There was a great, earth shattering rumble that echoed off the cave walls before dirt and debris fell from the ceiling of the cave – giant stalagmites fell and tore at the ground as they landed. Tim gasped, falling back away from the electrical field before him.

At first, the blur of red and blue filled him with hope, had him uttering "Superman!" before he stopped short. It wasn't Clark Kent, the closest thing Bruce had ever had to a best friend, no. This was his clone –

The outlaws had arrived.

He'd never met Artemis in the flesh, but he'd heard tales of her clashing with the Amazon Princess Diana herself. She was a sight to behold alongside the imposing figure of Koriand'r, the Tamaranian Princess. Their hair was fiery, bright as a star in the darkness of the caves. Kori had fire in her palms, facing downward, ready to destroy any enemy that appeared, while Artemis wielded her battle ax, Mistress, in a firm stance.

And then there was Roy Harper.

Harper may have been an impressive shot, a warrior who rivaled Oliver Queen and sharpshooters around the globe, but to Tim – the boy who had watched him grow up alongside first his eldest brother, and then Jason – Roy would always be a goofy boy with more bark than bite. Perhaps even more goofy now with that ridiculous baseball cap.

"Kori!?" He heard his brother exclaim. The alien princess turned to him immediately, her brow smoothing out as their eyes met.

"Dick! Thank X'hal, I thought we'd never get through these cave walls."

"Never say never, pudding," Roy oozed. "Now, how do we get you out of those cells. I'm sure it'll be as simple a rerouting the power away from the –" He started for the control panel on the other side of the room, only to stop short and loose a quiet gasp when Artemis's battleax soared straight into the panel. Electricity arced through the room and the panel fumed with smoke, spitting and hissing in its death throes.

The electronic field holding them in blinked once, twice, and then was gone. Tim batted at where the screen had been, finding only empty air. "Alright then. That's one way to do it."

"You are injured," The clone said, sidling forward and reaching out to help.

Bruce, for all his wonderful qualities as a socialite, had never been one to accept help – particularly when in his nightly persona – and stepped back, shaking his head and raising his hands defensively. "There's no time. Jason is in danger."

"He's been in danger," The Amazonian said. "No thanks to you and yours. We've been looking for him for months now, would it have killed you to give us a call?"

"I saw no reason to alarm you."

"Alarm us!?" Kori spun around from where she had been speaking quietly with Dick. "Jason has faced so much outside of your city, yet only when he returns is he in any true danger."

The two red-heads stood shoulder to shoulder now. Whatever their history, no matter that they did not particularly care for one another, this goal united them.

And now, the full force of their righteous fury was turned onto his father.

Enraptured in the brewing storm ahead of him, Dick only just caught the movement at his periphery. He turned just in time to catch a bag full of his gear.

"That's enough for now, ladies." Roy said, his voice a soothing balm over the roar of their tempers. "Let's not forget that we're here with a mission. You know, get in, grab Jaybird, get out?"

"Roy's right," Came Tim's calm voice. He handed Bruce his utility belt after strapping on his own. "We don't have time for the blame game. After, we can work out whose fault it was. For now, we need to stand united.

"Roy, can you lock onto our location with one of your beacons?"

Roy nodded, casting a wary glance back up at the ship. "But-"

"No buts. We may need a quick exit, keep that thing ready for reentry while the rest of us get Jason." Roy grumbled something about not having any fun as he shot off a line, following the order as though it had come from Oliver Queen. The group turned as one after his departure, listening to low grunts of pain and the deafening boom of gunfire in the distance.

Bruce was the first to shoot off in the direction of the battle, followed closely by Dick and then the outlaws. Tim paused momentarily in the doorway, turning back to the syringes on the floor. The verdant fluid within made his stomach twinge strangely, but it wasn't enough to stop him from reaching down and capturing the last two doses of the Lazarus Serum before rushing after his family.

Madness crawled through his brain like a swarm of ants. He could feel the whisper of a thousand tiny legs through his whole being. They hushed his frazzled nerves, and held him solidly in a wake of crimson. This madness was different than the one he had known before. A single dip in the Pit was but a single flame held up to the inferno that was the full force of repeated exposure to even a diluted sample. It tainted his very being, consumed him from within and without. Agony was his companion, the only one he'd had in over six months. Coming back into contact with his family, donning the mask of Havoc, had been like a splash of ice cold water – the taste of freedom bittersweet on his tongue – shaking him from his stupor.

Now, though, he reveled in the sound of necks snapping and blood dripping.

He saw the guards who had repeatedly broken his bones.

He broke some of theirs before killing them.

He saw the men who assaulted him, brought him low until he screamed for hours.

He elicited long, wailing cries before he ended them.

He saw Ubu, the bane of his existence in this place.

He murdered him slowly, using his own weapons so that he died of asphyxiation.

When it was done, Jason collapsed to his knees in the center of the chamber where he had been brutalized endlessly. There was sticky blood on his hands and he rubbed them against the drenched cloth of his sweatpants, back and forth until the skin was raw. He felt like he could finally breath, like he'd only just surfaced after a near-drowning – like when Bruce had dragged him from the ocean, cradling him close – only to find himself adrift without so much as a piece of flotsam. Thinking back, he couldn't remember actively making the decision to kill his tormentors. The flashes that came to him were of the blood that now coated his hands, but nothing more.

"What did I do?" He whispered, palms shaking with the realization of where he was, who he had abandoned in order to kill all of these people. The very thought left him drained, panting and tired far beyond his years.

How many had he just slain?

A strangled sound escaped his throat, something that was not entirely human in nature. "What have I done?"

"My dear boy, you've just proven your mettle." The voice reached for him, like the tendrils of a water-starved plant, tickling at the edges of his consciousness.

It was Ra's, he knew it without even needing to glance upward. The man was everywhere in this place. Jason could only regret that his rampage had ended before he'd had the chance to kill this evil bastard. His muscles were still trembling with exhaustion, each scar added to his body was alight with the agony from their infliction. He couldn't have fought back now, not even if he'd wanted to.

And he didn't.

Claw like fingernails dug into the flesh under Jason's chin, forcing him to meet the ancient's gaze. "Your father will not forgive you for this, child. Look around, look at the bodies. What do you think he'll do to you?" The man smiled. "Perhaps a cell in Arkham?"

He hadn't meant to listen to the words. Hadn't meant to picture the walls of the asylum, Harleen Quinzel, or even the cackle of his murderer as it rose in the back of his mind. Fear rose in his chest, swift as a striking viper, winding its way around his throat. "He wouldn't," Jason gasped.

But he would.

Bruce had done so in the past, the first time that Jason had come back and the stench of the pit had clung to him even after years apart. Now? Good Lord, the Pit had reached deep into his very soul, torn it asunder, torn him asunder.

And Jason was scared.

Terrified. He felt his heart beat rapidly against his ribcage. He couldn't go there, couldn't face that pasty-faced monster now after so long in pain and misery. He'd rather...

He'd rather…

"I think we both know what the detective is capable of," Ra's' voice crept up on him, startled him from thoughts of clowns and the stench of death and the flash of a crowbar through the air. "Come with me, child."

He knew logically that he didn't have a choice. The League of Assassins had returned, full force – Jason's rampage had hardly put a dent in their numbers – and now shadows filled the cavern, blades drawn and shining in the half light. In front of him, Jason saw a hand. It was clawed and ugly and reaching, but a part of him wanted to take it, to let it guide him away from the clown and the memories that were still so salient in his mind.

But the other part, the part that sounded like Bruce, screamed at him to run away or to strike at the offending gesture.

His muscles were still too weak to put up much of a fight, but he wanted to spit at this man. The though had barely entered his mind when he did just that, releasing a glob of blood so that it landed in the man's outstretched palm.

He knew he'd pay for the offense, knew it even before Ra's withdrew. He smiled, a broken, malleable thing. He hoped it would be quick.

"Jason!" His father cried out, desperation and something else – fear? – mingled in the intonation of the word and Jason's head shot to the left.

"Dad?" he'd meant the word to sound strong, but it came out as more of a whimper through his chattering teeth. Anxiety clawed at his stomach mercilessly, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the man who was rapidly changing from man to monster in his eyes. Ra's' flesh had begun to rot, hanging loosely from his bones like a long-buried ghost. His teeth, which had seemed pristine not a moment before, were now yellowed with age. The once-dark hair was now gray as ash and brittle like straw. But it was his eyes that struck Jason the most. They were devoid of any color, like the life had simply slipped from his bones. The green of his clothes now stood in stark contrast to his feature.

He didn't appear human.

Jason sank backward, drawing himself away from the creature even as it drew the blade at its waste.

"Useless!" it screamed in fury as the blade swung toward him.

He only stared as it came. Gasped when it parted his flesh. Closed his eyes when it pinned him to the ground.

And surrendered to oblivion when the darkness closed in.

Um. Did I say this fic was gonna hurt? I did? Well. There you have it. One more to go! I promise I won't take a long ass hiatus this time. Maybe. See y'all later!