With a Bang

Series note: This is the tenth act of the Red Bird, Blue Bird series. Each story can be read alone, but contains numerous references to the goings on of other parts in this series. This occurs shortly after Two Hours. With a Bang is the final act in Tier One, a sort of season finale if you will, signaling the end of the first arc and making way for the opening of the next in Tier Two, currently in the works. Thank you all so much for following Dick and Jason on this journey with me so far and I look forward to continuing this journey in the next Tier soon. Until then, I do so hope you enjoy!

~O Chapter One O~

Damn it all, was Jason's first coherent thought upon waking, trying hard to keep from groaning aloud at the painful throbbing of his head. His old training had him keeping still, feigning unconsciousness as he worked to assess his situation. Which, ya'know, proved difficult when his head felt like a jackhammering teddy bear – pounding and full of cotton.

He took a subtle breath and reassessed. Headache and foggy thinking but no accompanying nausea – meant he was probably drugged rather than concussed. Hands and arms bound in chains and wire and held immobile stretched out behind him around some kind of pillar. He was in a sitting position, back against the pillar, legs splayed out in front of him. A tiny peek through his barely opened eyelids informed him his domino mask was still in place but his helmet was gone – and that he wasn't alone.

On the pillar before him, trussed up same as he, was the Riddler looking a bit worse for the wear. On either side of the green clad villain was Two-Face and the Penguin, both in the same situation, all gagged and looking beat to hell. What the hell is going on here? Foregoing his charade of unconsciousness, Jason jerked his head to the right. Nothing. An empty pillar, no chains. He turned quickly to look at his left and – fuck.

"Ahh! My favorite birdie is awake!" The Joker grinned, hands clasped casually behind his back as he stepped away from where Robin was bound in the same way as Red Hood to the pole beside him. Jason glanced the kid over – knocked out, but breathing evenly, no noticeable injuries other than a few visible bruises – as the clown approached him.

"What do you want, you sonofabitch?!" Red Hood snarled at the grinning clown before him.

"What's the matter? Not ready for the party? What a shame." The Joker clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head forlornly. "And I put so much work into it, too. Aw well, can't please everybody I suppose."

Red Hood narrowed his eyes behind his mask, not saying a word. He didn't want to admit to himself that he felt too exposed without his helmet.

"Let's see, shall we?" The Joker pulled out a small notepad from seemingly nowhere. "Balloons—" a polished black dress shoe kicked at the bobbing green and purple balloons rolling around on the floor, "—check! Streamers—" a white gloved hand pointed upwards to the menagerie of paper streamers taped haphazardly to the walls and ceiling, "—check! Noise makers—" a vague motion around the room that Red Hood wasn't sure how to interpret "—check!" The whole warehouse did look like there was some sort of 'Birthday Party' theme going on. "Now we're just waiting on the last of the guests!"

Of course it would be that moment that Robin began to stir.

Tucking away his checklist, the Joker's grin stretched wide once more. "Oh lookie! The other birdie is waking up too! Oh goodie." He laughed maniacally, while clapping his hands.

Robin groaned, pulling sluggishly at his restraints. "Nnnh-whah?" His head bobbed upward until it could lull against one shoulder. His next slurred complaint came out almost in a whimper. "Mmy he-ad."

The madman took a few steps towards the kid and Jason saw red. "Dammit, Joker! When I get out of here, you'll be sorry!" Red Hood yelled, trying to divert the Joker's attention onto him and away from the bird brat. He focused on his anger while his mind was screaming at him. He couldn't let the same thing that happened to him happen to Damian. Don't hurt him! Don't you touch him!

"I doubt that, bird brain. I've got you locked up nice and tight." The Joker turned to grin at Red Hood smugly.

Seeing an opening, Red Hood pushed on. "What am I even here for, Chuckles? Couldn't find any willing saps to invite to your birthday bash?"

"Well now, I'm glad you asked!" The Joker turned his full attention onto Red Hood, and Jason heaved a mental sigh of relief that Robin was left alone. For the time being. "It's a celebration, my Fine Feathered Fool. A sort of 'Welcome Home' party to our one and only real Batman." The clown smiled wide, giving a spin as he spread his arms to indicate the colorful decorations strewn about the room. His face suddenly collapsed into a scowl, previously bubbly voice darkening into a menacing rumble. "Instead of that cut-rate, mangy, no good imposter Nightwing." The venom in his voice took Red Hood by surprise, but a moment later it was gone as though it never was. "So I figured I oughtta invite a few familiar faces! Not exactly a who's who of Gotham's finest if you ask me," he said behind his hand in a mock quiet tone and pointing a finger at the bound villains before dropping the act. "Oh well! Sometimes the riff raff just sneak their way in!"

Oh yeah, they look like they've been doing a whole lot of sneaking lately. Red Hood resisted rolling his eyes. Biting back a sarcastic retort was harder, but he managed. Being this close to the Joker was putting him on edge; the fact he was tied up and useless wasn't helping him much either.

"Of course," the Joker went on, tapping his chin in consideration. "We are still missing a few guests. A little red birdie and a brainless straw man come to mind."

Red Robin? Red Hood thought he was still in Jump City with the Titans.

He didn't have time to dwell on it, however, when the Joker suddenly said, "Oh! Speaking of little birdies!" With that abrupt subject shift, he meandered over toward the still and silent Robin. The kid looked like he was feigning unconsciousness. Red Hood yanked on his bindings again, wishing he could get the psycho away from him, but his mostly numb arms protested the strain loudly. "Wakey wakey, Baby Bird." The clown patted the boy's cheek non-too-gently. "C'mon, up and at'em. We haven't got all night." He punctuated the statement by giving Robin a hard slap on the face, which echoed loudly around the cavernous room and sent Robin's head jerking to the side.

Jason saw red. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Red Hood roared.

"Oooh, looks like someone has a soft spot for the baby bird." An evil grin spread across the crazy clown's face.

The sound of a door swinging open interrupted their stare off before the Joker could make another move on the kid, much to Jason's suppressed and immediate relief. Poison Ivy strolled into the room with an annoyed huff. "Your 'guest of honor' is awake, Clown. Has been for the last ten minutes," she announced without preamble, placing a hand on her hip.

"I'll be right back, Brothers Bird." The Joker's smile faded slightly, he turned to face someone just out of Red Hood's sight. "Croc, my dear cold-blooded compadre. Could you come here for a second?" Red Hood could hear Killer Croc's heavy footsteps come closer, then there was a faint hissing sound like something being sprayed and a heavy thud. Red Hood had a feeling Killer Croc wasn't conscious anymore. What the hell was Joker up to?

As though voicing his thoughts, Ivy suddenly exclaimed, "Hey! What the hell?!"

Red Hood couldn't see them – the Joker standing off to the right and behind him somewhere – but he could hear Ivy's quiet footsteps, feet light and bare, as she moved closer to the clown.

"Now Pammy sweetheart, it's not what it looks like. The big lug was only going to get in the way of our plans." The Joker's feet shifting, large shoes slapping noisily against the concrete floors. "We don't want that lumbering Neanderthal ruining all of our hard work now, do we?"

Ivy remained unmoved. "What plan exactly? You haven't exactly been clear on the details. I wouldn't even be here if Harles hadn't asked me."

"Yes, yes. We all know your position on that basis." The Joker's voice darkened again. "Unfortunately for you, I don't like sharing." There was a sudden thunk of something being hit and the distinct sound of a body collapsing onto the ground. Red Hood only had to wonder at the events for a moment before the Joker's dark tone pervaded once more. "Harley is mine."

Poison Ivy was dragged over to the pillar directly in front of Robin. She appeared unconscious and Joker dropped a blood tipped crowbar to chain Ivy to the post. Once done, he moved onto Croc – having only slight difficulty with the mutant's weight despite the clown's thin frame – grumbling angrily under his breath the whole time.

Heavy chains locked in place, the Joker turned to the two trapped heroes. "I'll deal with you boys later," he promised lowly. Frown still firmly fixed on his pale face. With a final glance at his captives, the Joker disappeared through the same door Ivy had entered from.

Sharing a look with a fully alert Robin, Red Hood couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble the Joker had planned for them.

"Oracle, any movement?"

"Not a smidge," Oracle replied. "As far as I can see, Batman and Robin have not budged in the last hour."

Nightwing rubbed a hand over his mouth, considering. "Monarch, huh?"

"The Monarch Playing Card Company Factory, yes."

"That's a trap if ever I've seen one." The sounds of her working drifted off at the tone in his voice. "Did they have a case there?"

"Not that I've been told, though I wouldn't put it past Batman to withhold information."

"True," Nightwing admitted. "But usually not the ones that involve Robin."

"Al doesn't have any insight. Says the Arkham escapees have been made priority. Playing card factory, though. Maybe Bats got a lead on—"

"Hey, no," Nightwing interrupted her. "Either knock on some wood or don't say it. Every time I've said I had a lead on that damned clown it turns out to be a false lead or a dead end. If Bats had a lead, let's not jinx it."

Oracle snorted at his logic. "Regardless, that could be what's keeping Dark Knight and Boy Wonder the fourth."

He wasn't so sure about that, and could tell she wasn't either. "But two hours of radio silence? Even longer from Red Hood."

"Is it really a surprise that you're not getting anything from Hood?" Oracle asked, starting to type away at her computer. There was a notification sound on her end and a short pause filled with the clacking of keys. "Hold up, I've got an incoming from Red Robin's secure line. I'll patch you in too." More click-clacking. "Red Robin, this is Oracle and Nightwing."

"Hey guys," came Red Robin's voice through Nightwing's commlink. "So, we just had a visit here from an old friend from Gotham. We neutralized him, planning his return trip to Arkham as we speak. I figured I'd call in and ask what the hell Scarecrow is doing in Jump City, but seeing as Batman isn't answering his comm, I can only assume there has been similar trouble there as well."

So not just following a lead then. "Our duo have been radio silent for a few hours now. We have a location, but no explanation, even by B's standards. Red Hood is MIA, and the streets are scary quiet."

"Flying solo, 'Wing?" He sounded a little worried.

"Just the angel in my ear. Unless you can get here soon?" It was a two hour flight from Jump to Gotham, so Nightwing would go in without backup if he had to.

"I'm already forty minutes out. Go ahead and give me the plan."

Just over half an hour later, Nightwing perched on the roof ledge of Ace Chemicals. Red Robin was on his way in the Batmobile while Nightwing ran recon and planned their entrance. Monarch Playing Card Co. stood in full, decrepit glory before him, the ten foot by four foot windows lining the main machine room gave Nightwing clear view into the factory. He wasn't exactly enjoying the view, however. After checking the perimeter, finding three tripwired doors on the outside alone and more than forty explosive charges set up in and around the main bulk of the building, Nightwing had settled on the rooftop across the street while he awaited his backup. Through the cracked, grime coated windows, he watched as first Red Hood, then Robin, stirred to wakefulness under the Joker's hovering presence. He nearly broke plan and cover when the psychotic clown laid a hand on his youngest brother, then again at the joyful, hungry look on the Joker's face at Red Hood's reaction, but he managed to hold himself back. Nightwing watched in concerned confusion as the Joker turned on his cohorts before leaving the room.

Now, as Nightwing watched Robin and Red Hood share a glance, Nightwing's comm chirped on. "I hate your plan, by the way," Oracle announced for the third time in thirty minutes.

Nightwing pointed out as much. "You've said that already." When she seemed ready to complain again, he continued. "We're down to two with a roomful of hostages and a building rigged to blow; we're kind of low on options here. If you have a suggestion, I'm all ears." He hadn't meant it to come out as harsh as it had and could only hope his lowered voice had taken some of the curtness out of it. He wasn't upset with her, but her critiquing of his plan wasn't helpful; he really didn't want her to be mad at him again either.

"Doesn't mean you need to be playing bait," she grumbled.

"I'm acting as distraction while Red Robin frees the others and clears the building," he explained.

"Just because I know why you're doing it, doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I'll be fine, I promise."

"You'd better be the one knocking on wood now, Pixie Boots," she retorted, making Nightwing chuckle quietly before another voice interrupted the moment.

"You guys know I can still hear you, right?" Red Robin piped up. "Turn off the open line before you start flirting, please." A moment later he was crouching on the roof ledge beside Nightwing. "Ready?"

Nightwing nodded once. "Give it five minutes before you breach. Soft entry. The clowned couple are the only ones still in play, but we are going to utilize surprise to our advantage," he instructed, summarizing the plan they had already gone over. "The outer doors are wired, so keep an eye out for traps."

"Got it," Red Robin assured.

As Nightwing moved into position, Oracle bid them luck. "You boys had better be careful. Come home safe, alright? For me."

"Always," Nightwing stated and readied for entry.

They were very familiar with the layout of the card factory, it being an old favorite of several of the Rogues. Nightwing hadn't gotten eyes on Batman during his recon, but his GPS signal was coming from the foreman's office, located at the end of a door lined hallway off of the largest machine room where the hostage villains and bat boys were being kept. A broken window in a small store room was his opening, midway down the hall. He could hear footsteps – female, light and heeled, Quinzel – coming from another room on the opposite side of the hallway. He moved on hunter's feet towards the foreman's office.

There was no stealthy way of entering the office. The moment he were to open the door, both occupants – because he could hear the distinct voices of both Batman and Joker, but not what either of them were saying – would immediately be aware of his presence.

Guess it's time to put on a show, he thought to himself as he readied for what was to come.

Red Hood waited a few seconds before he spoke, "Hey, kid, are you okay?" He looked back at Robin, whose reddened cheek was swelling slightly from the force of the blow.

"Obviously I'm not 'okay', Hood. I am bodily restrained and at the mercy of a psychotic in a purple suit. What part of that would lend you the impression I am in any way 'okay'?"

Red Hood rolled his eyes. At least his personality's still intact. "Quit being a smartass and just answer the fucking question seriously."

Hearing a melodramatic sigh, Robin answered, "I am largely unharmed. Possibly a few bruised ribs and minor abrasions from my . . . altercation with Killer Croc, but nothing broken or bleeding." Then, as an afterthought, "Happy now?"

"Was that really that hard to do?" Red Hood asked sardonically.

"Well, Hood, considering it is Robin, it probably physically hurt him to drop his sarcasm long enough to answer," Red Robin answered from the air duct above Red Hood. "You're lucky to have gotten even an ounce of civility from him."

"Replacement?" Red Hood exclaimed at the same time Robin demanded, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm here for? I'm here to save your ungrateful asses," Red Robin said when he landed on silent feet in front of Red Hood.

"If this is the extent of our cavalry," Robin announced in a deadpan. "Then we are all doomed."

With a very melodramatic eye roll – and really, with all this melodrama, they both have obviously spent too much time with Dick lately – Red Robin replied. "Relax Boy Demon, I'm not here alone." He moved around the pillar Red Hood was restrained to, kneeling down to work off the bindings. "Nightwing's in the office playing distraction with the Joker until he can free Batman."

"Oh boy, like that makes me feel any better," Red Hood replied, shaking his head. Finally free from his restraints, he grunted as blood flowed back into his numb arms; he stood, stretching them to wake them up faster despite the pain. "So what's the plan, Red?"

"For right now, get everyone else out. The whole place is rigged to blow," the young detective said while freeing Robin.

"You can't be serious," Red Hood exclaimed.

"Serious about which part? The place being rigged to blow? C'mon Hood, you should know Joker better than that," Red Robin remarked, standing up after the youngest boy was freed. "Or is it the getting everyone else out part? Because I shouldn't have to explain to you why we are saving them."

"No, I got that, but I mean do you really need my help to get everyone out?" Red Hood said, wincing as he gestured with his sore arms around the room. . . Now noticing there was one more person bound than he originally thought. Catwoman was bound to the pillar directly behind him, right next to the unconscious Killer Croc.

"Well, yes, Hood. We need your help to get everyone because it would be quicker if the three of us do it instead of me and Boy Wonder here doing it alone," Red Robin stated slowly, as though explaining it to someone he thought was particularly dimwitted. He held out a pair of earwigs.

"What about 'Wing and Batman? They might need help too," Red Hood shot back, starting to get irritated as his replacement. He grabbed a communicator and popped it into his ear, watching Robin do the same.

"Whose plan do you think I'm following?" Red Robin countered, getting straight to the root of the problem as usual. "Nightwing entrusted the three of us with clearing the building and that is what we will do. 'Wing can handle himself for a while. Even against the Joker."

Rolling his eyes for what felt like the millionth time tonight, "Fine—"

The door that the Joker had left through swung open, revealing a smiling Harley with a plated slice of cake in each hand. "Heya, Pammy! I brought ya some—" She stopped in her tracks at the sight of the three free bat boys. "What the hell are—" Her exclamation died on her lips the moment Harley's eyes fell on the bound Poison Ivy. "Red!" She ran to the redhead, palms cupping her slack face. Harley pulled back suddenly, her hands coming away covered in blood. "No no no!"

Red Hood watched as the woman checked to see if her friend was okay. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Red Robin move towards the women to offer first aid. Instead, he ended up with a wooden bat – where the hell had that come from? – pointed at his head.

"What happened?" Harley demanded, glaring daggers at each of the heroes. Her free hand was pressed against the pale column of Ivy's neck, fingers resting on the pulse point.

"The clown did it," Robin snarled.

"No. No, Mr. J wouldn't do this. Not to her," Harley insisted, face unsure.

"Look around, Harley," Red Robin instructed gently. "These are your friends, aren't they? Joker turned on them."

Red Hood stepped in with, "He drugged Croc just like the rest of us, then bashed Ivy over the head." He gestured towards the bloody crowbar.

Her eyes locked on the stained metal and stayed there. "No," she mumbled in denial.

"Face it Quinzel," Robin added. "The clown was going to kill them. The building is set to explode, with this room as its epicenter."

"No!" Harley growled, all uncertainty gone. She stood from her crouch, jabbing the end of her bat against Red Robin's chest. "You take care of my Red, got it?" It was demanded of all of them, but Red Robin was the one who nodded in reply, stepping calmly around the armed woman to assess Poison Ivy's condition.

When Harley turned towards the door she had entered from, Robin demanded, "What are you going to do?"

Storming towards the hall door, she answered angrily. "I'm gonna go give Puddin' a piece of my mind." The bat was hefted against one shoulder at those words before she disappeared through the door.

"Wouldn't want to be the Joker right about now," Red Robin mumbled after a moment, then waved a hand at Robin. "Undo the chains while I check the bleeding."

"I couldn't care less about her, as long as she doesn't get in Nightwing's way," Robin declared of Harley, moving around to the other side of Poison Ivy's pillar to cut through the chains.

Good, maybe she'll kill him, Red Hood thought viciously to himself as he started unchaining Riddler from the pillar, who was awake at this point. Once free, Red Hood bound his arms behind his back and walked him out of the building. Riddler began to mumble as they walked out. "Yeah, yeah, whatever Ed." Red Hood brushed him off, still not ungagging the lean green suit clad man. He marched him a block away, securing the villain to a light post with a spare length of wire. "Sit here," he ordered, then waited as Red Robin carried Ivy over one shoulder and laid her on the sidewalk under the streetlight.

"Bleeding's stopped," the young detective relayed without looking up. "Likely a mild to moderate TBI, but she's been out a while." He met Red Hood's eyes, straightening up. "I called Oracle, she's sending Bomb Squad, SWAT, and EMTS, but we need to keep them back until the Joker is neutralized."

They both turned as Robin came towards them with Catwoman in a fireman carry. "Don't just stand there," he demanded, plopping the woman onto the ground.

Red Hood tapped Red Robin's arm with the back of his hand. "Hey, come help me with Croc." With a quick nod, Red Robin fell into step behind him, leaving Robin to babysit the gaggle of baddies.

Killer Croc was easy to unchain and they worked together to drag his heavy form out. Robin complained loudly about being left to stand guard, but neither of the other two acknowledged him. Once Croc was bound up with the others, Red Hood turned back towards Red Robin.

"I'll grab the last two, you start trying to disarm those bombs," Red Hood decided. "You'd have a better shot than Bomb Squad would."

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. "I . . . should check on Nightwing. . ." He shook his head as though to clear it. "But . . . you're right. Priorities." Glancing around, he pointed a sharp finger at Robin. "Stay put."

"-tt-" Robin rolled his eyes with so much distain it was almost funny.

Red Hood led the way back to the factory, Red Robin following in his wake again, the latter disappearing once through the doorway. Red Hood got the Penguin and Two-Face unchained, pulled them up to their feet, and dragged them from the building quick as he could.

Robin started up again as soon as he was back in earshot "Nightwing is in there with the Joker, for fuck's sake," the kid ranted. "And we are just standing here, fiddling with bombs and street scum—"

"You have a point there, baby bat. I think one of us should check on him." Without another word, Red Hood took off running towards the factory one last time.

"Hey!" he heard Robin shout. "Hood!"

Sorry, kid, but this one is mine. Can't have you getting yourself hurt by this maniac. 'Wing would kill me for letting you come in. Hell, he might even kill me for going in.

With a steadying breath, Nightwing burst through the office door, announcing his presence to the room with a dazzling grin. "Hey there Giggles, B-man," he nodded at each man in greeting, not too worried about what he may have just interrupted. Batman's cowled face was as stoic as ever so no clues there, but he could guess towards the gist of it regardless. He wandered in, projecting an air of not having a care in the world. "Heard you were throwing a party. I was in the area, figured I'd crash this shindig."

"Nightwing," the Joker growled, hands fisting at his sides.

The blue bird quirked an eyebrow, grin still firmly in place. "What, no witless nicknames this time? Wait. Don't tell me I wasn't invited to your little birthday bash." He placed a hand to his heart, face a mockery of disappointment. "I'm hurt, truly. Don't you know a Gotham party isn't a party until Nightwing shows up?"

"I figured you would weasel your nose in here eventually. . . Just not this soon, I suppose. . ." The Joker stated, still seeming disgruntled by his presence.

"Aw, don't get your joy buzzer in a twist, Bozo, I won't be staying long. Grab some party favors, a slice of cake, maybe snag a dance or two." Nightwing eased further into the room, angling towards Batman while keeping the Joker in sight. "I don't know about you, but I certainly—"

His quip was interrupted by the door, now slightly to his left, slammed open, cracking off the wall and springing back. A pigtailed hurricane with a baseball bat stormed into the room, took one look around, and headed straight for the Joker. "What the hell did you do to my Red?!"

"What?" Joker asked, shocked into a genuine response.

"You heard me!" Quinn pointed the bat his way threateningly, still a few paces out of reach but reducing that distance quickly. "You heard me just fine!"

"Now Harley darling, let's not do anything rash." The Joker backed away, hands half-raised in surrender. "I didn't mean anything by it, it was a joke, really. I wasn't really going to blow you both up!"

"YOU WHAT?!" Quinn had finally come within range at those words and she swung.

As much as Nightwing wanted to sit back and enjoy the show, the reminder of their explosive situation had him focusing back on task. He rushed over to the chair Batman was tied to and set to work untying his bindings.

"Joker's planning to blow the factory up. We need to get everyone out of the building." Batman explained to Nightwing as quietly as possible.

"Way ahead of ya, B-man. Three birds younger are evacuating the building as we speak." Nightwing's voice was similarly lowered in deference towards the crashing and shouting occurring mere feet away on the other side of the room. "Red Robin will need help disarming. I counted over four dozen from the outside. He's not trying to bring the place down, he wants to blow it sky high." Nightwing released the restraints, freeing Batman from the chair. He passed his old mentor a commlink. "Go help Red, I'll handle the Stockholm Sweethearts."

Batman hesitated a brief second, just a second, a muscle in his jaw twitching as though biting back something he wanted to say. A moment later, the hesitation was gone and Batman rushed out the door, leaving Nightwing to turn back to the lover's quarrel going on nearby.

"Harley, darling, I really wasn't trying to hurt you," Joker was saying repeatedly as Quinn was continuously hitting him with the bat. "I was going to get us all out before I blew up the place. Honest!"

Quinn seemed to be beyond reasoning with, though, aiming a powerful swing at his head with a grunt. He ducked just in time, the bat imbedding into the drywall. She yanked it out and swung at him again and again. "You – bashed my – Red Flower – with a crowbar! You were – gonna kill – all of us!"

Nightwing was torn between letting the fight play out and stepping in. Honestly, Harley deserved a crack at that crooked clown after everything she'd been put through. A moment later, the choice was made for him when Joker switched to the offensive.

"Now, Harley, stop it," Joker demanded, straightening up to his fullest height after avoiding the harlequin's latest attack. His stance grew stern and he waved an authoritative finger her way as he said, "you knock this off, right now! You're getting on my nerves."

"Knock this off!" Quinn shrieked, giving a vicious swing towards the Joker's head.

The blow was blocked abruptly by the Joker's hand. He gripped the bat in a firm grasp, causing Quinn to trip forward as he yanked the weapon from her hands. "You're lucky I don't kill you." It came out as a dangerous mutter as he cracked the bat against the back of Quinn's skull, dropping her to the ground, unconscious. "Now." He turned towards Nightwing. "Time for me to deal with another nuisance." His voice had turned dark.

"Nuisance? Me? Rude." Nightwing shifted his weight. "You're the one who didn't invite me to your party."

The Joker growled, tossing down the bat. "Party crashers aren't welcome."

"What did I do to you? I know you've never been my biggest fan, but what's with the sudden hostility?"

"What did you do to me?! You pretended to be Batman! Like a cheap knock-off! A phony! A little boy running around in his daddy's clothes! You've ruined everything! Everything!" It still didn't really make sense to Nightwing. Joker hadn't really been active much during his time as Batman, and Bruce had been back for months, why was the Joker so obsessed about it now? There was more to whatever this was than what could be seen from the outside. Before Nightwing could do more than duck towards cover, the Joker had a gun pulled and aimed at him. "You are not Batman. You won't ever be him again. . ." The gun discharged twice. The slugs plowed through the flimsy wood of the desk Nightwing crouched behind like it was cardboard, missing him by inches.

The sound of a gun cocking – a gun that wasn't the Joker's – had them both looking over towards the door. It hung nearly off its hinges and standing in its wake was Red Hood with his Glock pointed right at the Joker's head. "Drop the gun," he demanded.

"Hoodie, m'boy! Fancy meeting you here," grinned the Joker, mood whiplashing.

"You're not going to hurt him, you sonofabitch!" Keeping his hand steady and pointed at the Joker, Red Hood moved closer to Nightwing.

"Wanna bet?" the madman challenged.

"I wonder what color your brains will be when I paint the wall behind you with it! Let's find out, shall we?"

"Hood, hey, hold on," Nightwing piped up. He lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "Let's everyone just calm down a minute."

"Calm down?! Really, 'Wing? You want me to calm down?! After what he did? This is my chance to end him! To stop him from hurting anyone else!" Red Hood roared, head turned in his direction but not taking his eye off his target.

"I know," Nightwing said. "Believe me, I know what he's done." He knew exactly what the Joker was capable of: sadism, manipulation, mass murder, crippling Barbra, torturing and killing Jason, tormenting Tim, taunting Bruce at every turn. . . He couldn't help but wish for a world without the Joker in it – but not by Jason's hands. Jason killing the Joker would permanently separate his brother from Bruce, from his family, set him on a path he wouldn't be able to come back from. Dick would rather have the Joker alive than his brother lost. "But he isn't worth this. He isn't worth anything." He isn't worth your soul.

"Little Boy Blunder, all grown up and important," Joker taunted, trying and failing to garner the room's attention. "It makes me sick."

Nightwing didn't even glance the clown's way, standing in front of Red Hood, blocking his sight. The gun stayed steady in a firm grip over Nightwing's left shoulder – not blocking the shot, but taking up his brother's line of vision – close enough it could deafen him if it fired. "If we kill him, he wins. If you shoot him, he gets exactly what he wants. Don't give it to him."

"I can't just sit on my thumbs and watch him hurt or kill anyone else. . . Screw what he did to me! What if he goes after Robin again? . . . Tonight was nothing compared to what he could do! I can't do this anymore. . . It's going to stay an endless cycle of him breaking out, wreaking havoc, and getting caught again and again. . . It needs to stop, 'Wing," Red Hood growled, his voice rough and shaky.

At the reminder of what happened – what could have happened – to Damian that night, Nightwing had to take a calming breath before continuing. "Then do it."

Red Hood was taken aback. "What?"

"Do it. If you're going to shoot him, then do it. Throw your life away. But don't expect me to watch you kill him." His stony façade suddenly dropped to be replaced with a pleading tone. "But you don't have to do this. Just, stand down, Red Hood." Another step closer, mere inches apart now, voice growing quiet and intense. "Please don't make me watch."

Red Hood steadied his grip, his finger twitched on the trigger ready to pull; he took in a breath, held it and – Red Hood lowered his weapon. "Goddammit. I-I can't do this . . . not with you here . . ."

"Yes, yes, all's well. Now can I get on with my plan?" The Joker still had his gun pointed at the heroes. "Oh, why am I asking? I'm going to anyway!"

At his words, Red Hood looked up at the clown. Whatever he saw had him shoving Nightwing, who still had his back to the Joker, out of the way just as the revolver went off. Nightwing caught him as he stumbled back, a shocked cry erupting from the older hero.

He was lowered to the ground and pressure was applied to the wound on his left shoulder. The sound of a second gunshot had Red Hood glancing up in time to see the Joker clutching his suddenly bleeding hand to his chest and Red Hood's own smoking gun being lowered by a blue-striped black clad arm.

"Y-y-you shot him . . . ?" Red Hood stumbled over his words, shocked and more than a bit awed.

"He shot you," was the terse reply as Nightwing focused on assessing Red Hood's injury. The bullet had penetrated the upper arm just below the shoulder joint, missing the armor plating on his torso by mere centimeters. "No exit wound. There's a lot of blood, the bullet may have nicked an artery or got lodged in the bone. Fuck!"

"Heh, language," Red Hood responded with a shit-eating grin.

"That was stupid," Nightwing chastised, pulling a pressure bandage from his belt one handed. "You know I have more armor, you should have let me take the hit."

"Nah, you've had all the fun lately. It was my turn." Red Hood grunted as the bandage was tied in place, slowing the steady stream of gore pouring down his now ruined leather jacket.

"Getting shot is fun to you?" Nightwing asked incredulously.

"Perfect bonding material, right?" mumbled Red Hood, echoing Nightwing's words from several months ago. It was the first thing that broke through Nightwing's cold anger, causing him to let out an amused snort.

"How touching," Joker grumbled in interruption, stumbling to his feet. "I was planning on waiting until Wingnut was alone to do this, but I guess I'll take what I can get. Bye bye bird boys. Time to bond with a boom."

Before either hero could so much as brace themselves, the Joker had pulled out some kind of remote from his jacket pocket, clutching it with his uninjured hand. It was big and black with a very cliché red glowing button in the center; a button that the demented clown took great joy in pressing with a cackling howl of laughter.

The world seemed to shatter around them.