Hello, my little lovelies. This is my first ever Fanfic. Forgive me if there are some errors, I tried to look over it as much as I could and fix anything. Also, I'm not sure why my enter button won't work. Gomen! /.\

I do not own any of DC Characters and all rights are reserved to the company/writers/editors- etc.

The rain washed over Gotham city, trying over and over again to cleanse the city of it's past, it's future- it's corruption, trying to redeem the city and it's people. An abandoned warehouse on the East side of town, torn up and falling apart, almost begging to be put out of it's misery. A man standing face to face with the human he hated the most. His eyes cast a shadow as he tilts his head down slightly, clenching his teeth, fists and muscles, wanting to say so much, but saying so little. This is the scene Jason Todd waited for since he was resurrected, this is the moment he played like a movie scene in his mind repeatedly, memorizing ever word, every sentence and vowel, every movement that he would make, rewinding and playing the scene over, and over, and over, and over until it seeped into his dreams and clouded his every thought; defining his very existence. This is what Jason Todd was revived for, this is what he was prepared for- so why couldn't he say a damn thing?

The man seated in a chair before him was silent, grinning from ear to ear with those wretched red lips of his. He was restrained by ropes that Jason had managed to wrap around him; his body that was framed in white flesh pressed tightly against the rope, making the ex-Robin have an itching urge to tighten the material and see how far the skin would bend, how far it would mend into the rope, until it turned dark in color and black and blue. Jason's eyes narrowed, he leaned forward, almost threatening to break his face, to make him feel the pain he felt- to get revenge. But he didn't dare move an inch.

"What's wrong, little bird?" The man cackled, rolling his head around on his neck so that it hung effortlessly at an angle, his green hair falling onto his face at the sudden tilt. "Cat gotcha tongue?" Another disgusting cackle errupted from the man before him, and Jason almost wondered if what he was doing would matter- if the insanity that the man posessed would even register anything he was about to do.

"Shut up." Jason snapped, "Don't speak. Don't move, don't-" His voice threatened to shake, and he clenched his jaw again, refusing to show him any weakness. He turned his back to him and folded his arms over his chest.

"I can't move," He chuckled, "You've tied me up, just like the good little Robin you are. Why, Batman would be so proud!" His voice rose with excitment, and it sent shivers down Jason's spine, "The little Robin with daddy issues finally got the balls to get revenge on the Joker!" The clown threw his head back, laughing dramatically.

Jason spun on the heels of his boots and within moments was face to face again with him, his gloved hand clenching a fist full of the green hair, yanking it so that the Joker was forced to look him in the eyes. "Don't. Speak. Of. Him." He hissed through his teeth.

"As you wish." The Joker grinned, "Would you like to talk about something else? Perhaps we should talk about Nightwing. That little bluebird is going to get hurt in Bludhaven, don't ya think?"

"I don't care about him."

"Oh, but you do! The acrobat! The perfect Robin! The protege son! Everything you wished you could be! The original boy wonder!"

Jason tightened his grip on the man's hair, growling, "He's not as perfect as you think."

"Hmm, mhhhm." The Joker nodded his head in sarcastic sympathy, or as much as he could with Jason's steel grip holding him, "I know how you feel."

"You couldn't begin to imagine."

"Oh, but I can, my little birdie." The Joker's face darkened, and his grin vanished for a moment, and Todd imagined maybe, just maybe there was a glimmer of sanity, a source behind how mad he was. Maybe the Joker was just as miserable as he was. But as soon as the thoughts entered, they departed, existing no more as a wide smirk appeared on the clown's face. "Daddy issues are a Hell of a bitch."

Jason let out an animalistic growl, releasing the clown's hair, only to bring his clenched fist straight into his white face. The Joker's head snapped back, his throat on display for Todd to see, and his fingers twitched with yearning to strangle it. The clown giggled as blood trickled down his face.

"Eheheh...heh...HA..AHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA!" He rolled his head back into place, licking his now swollen lips and locked eyes with the ex-Robin. Suddenly he was humming, slowly, but surely Jason recognized the tune and before he could tell him to shut his trap, he began to sing, "Hush little baby, don't say a word, daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird, and if that mocking bird don't sing-mmf! Argh!"

The second Robin had his fingers wrapped firmly around the Joker's neck, squeazing tightly, trying to drain the life from him, trying to get him to shut up for the last time.

"Eh-" The clown coughed, a wide grin still apparent on his face and Jason had to wonder why he looked so god damn happy all the time. "Do-it! Ki- me!" He choked out, and Jason loosened his grip slightly, trying to understand what he was saying. The villain took a gasp of air then managed to chuckle, "Kill me! Do it! Be the man Batman could never be! You want to, don't you? You want to get revenge! You can almost taste it! You're doing what he could never do as Red Hood, aren't you? You're taking them all out, those were your words weren't they?" He cackled, "Give in to your urges, kill me! Kill me! KILL ME- ACK!" Jason had removed his hands from his neck and slapped him across the face.

"You don't know what I'm doing, what I stand for! You wil never understand." He sneered.

The clown turned his face to him again, "Mmm..." He licked his lips again, swallowing the metallic taste of blood. "So violent, my little birdie."

"Do you ever think before you speak?"

"I plan everything, Robin."

"Don't call me that."

"Got it- Red Hood."

Silence. It engulfed the both of them as they stared into each other's eyes. The rain made a soft padding sound as it fell against the damaged roof of the warehouse. Jason felt his body trembling slightly, his anger rising. But he wasn't angry at the Joker anymore, he was angry with himself. Why couldn't he say everything? Why couldn't he say all the words he'd repeated in his mind day and night since he'd been reborn? He stared at the creases in the man's skin, how his face almost looked as if it were in a permanent grin, a permanent mockery of the world. His thoughts were interrupted when the wretched man spoke again.

"Do you ever miss your little Robin?" He smirked.

"Which one?"

"The last one of course. The little dead eleven year old, or was he nine? Eight? Twelve?"

Damian. Jason's mind raced. The little sarcastic shit never failed to get under his skin, but it enraged him that the clown had the audacity to bring him up. To bring up Bruce's son. To remind him of the pain, the suffering, the fear- the slow drift into death and darkness, and most of all, the betrayal he felt when he discovered Bruce didn't get revenge for him. How it shook him to the very core when he was reborn, how it frightened him, shocked him, hurt him. The questions never answered left hanging in the air to haunt Jason in every breath he took; the countless nights he'd lay awake asking 'Why? Was I not good enough?' and why was he brought back via the lazarus pit? What was his purpose? He looked down at his worn out boots, listening to the Joker hum again. Why did Bruce not get revenge for him? Did he not care? Was his antiquated morals really more important than his grief? His son? His Robin? His little sidekick? Jason slammed his fist into the clown's chest, wanting to take out his pain on something, no- someone, wanting to break down, to release the pain within his chest that tugged down on him every God damn day of his life.

"Oof!" The white faced man grunted in pain, "I see I hit a soft spot." He purred, grinning again. "I am so terribly sorry, my little birdie." He tilted his head, "I understand your grief."

Jason took a step back and examined him, trying to decipher the man before him. "You couldn't begin to imagine my pain." He said calmly, trying to compose himself.

"Oh, but I can."

"You keep saying that, yet you have nothing to prove it."

"You're upset, I get that." The Joker's voice was soothing, calm, and collected. He almost sounded sane, but Jason knew better than to believe it. It was false empathy. Nothing more. A poker face in a crowd of millions of others that would never understand how he felt. "I know how you feel...how angry you are." He paused, watching Jason's facial expressions. He couldn't deny the truth. The anger inside of him every day tugged on him like a giant weight, dragging him down and under the sea of emotions, drowning him. He almost never felt as if he were breathing- or alive. He hated it. He hated the anger dwelling inside of him, his body composed of nothing besides it. He was 99.9% anger, and the rest was hate. Hatred for Gotham, hatred for the Joker, for the world, for everyone for turning their backs on him when he needed them the most- for Bruce. For Bruce, the one person he thought he could trust, his father, his teacher, his family- his enemy. He narrowed his eyes at the villain before him but stood silent; a statue.

"You couldn't begin to imagine..."

"Shhh, it'll be okay," The Joker soothed, "You're angry, I know. You can't function properly, you can't understand how someone could love." A sharp pain erupted in Jason's chest as he listened. "You were so young when I took that from you, right? So young being in love with fighting, being in love with being with Batman. You were Robin, Batman's sidekick, and you never thought, not for one moment, that you'd be ripped away from it all. That was all my fault. My doing. I destroyed you. I took that crowbar and murdered you. I killed that part of you- Nn!"

Jason has his throat within his hand again, "You took everything away from me!" He shouted suddenly, tears stinging his eyes. "I-I didn't know the consequences of fighting crime! I was naïve! You took it all away! You're the reason I'm the way I am!" He leaned forward, clenching his jaw, his tears streaming down and out of his red mask, and down his face. "I'll kill you!" He growled.

The Joker didn't smile, didn't struggle within his grasp. He didn't laugh or mock him, no. No, no, no, he did not. He stared straight into the miserable eyes of the poor twisted and confused soul in front of him and mirrored his expression. Deep eyes that displayed years of pain, of suffering, staring straight back into Jason's. "I know." He said calmly.

Jason tightened his grip, bringing his other hand to the clown's throat, wanting to finish him once and for all, wanting to kill the thing in front of him- the thing haunting him. The thing inside of him killing him more and more each day. He wanted to demolish it. To destroy the Joker, to rid Gotham, no- the world of him. He wanted revenge, he wanted to taste revenge and smell the blood.

And the Joker didn't struggle, didn't scream, didn't move.

And Jason strangled him, more and more, until the pale face merely inches away from his was turning black and blue, until he could see the air draining from the villain. Until he could see the life draining from himself, him- Jason Todd. He could see it clearly now, in the Joker's eyes- his face. His mask. His expression; the tears, and the anger. He could see it all. He could see everything. Gotham. Bruce. Damian. Tim. Alfred. Dick. Stephanie. Barbara. Commissioner Gordon. Roy. Stafire. Everything. He saw how the lights used to fall down upon him when he was Robin, eagerly chasing behind Bruce. He could see him and Dick, face to face, competitive and ambitious. He could see Tim and Steph holding hands and telling a small child that Gotham was safe and not to worry. He could see Damian teasing Alfred. He could see Barabara and Commissioner Gordon sitting down, eating at the dinner downtown, laughing and reminiscing about old times. He could see Roy and Stafire, back to back in battle but somehow smiling even though they were corned. He could see himself. An angry individual, clouded by hate, and fear. Lead on by the things that defined him, the anger that defined him. And he could see Bruce, sitting; staring at his old, blood stained Robin costume in grief- asking himself over and over again what he stood for, and was it really good enough? And why didn't he kill the Joker? He could see it all so clearly now, like the fog had been lifted and he finally understood. Staring into the eyes of the Joker, and watching his life drain away effortlessly, how easy it was to kill a man- and how easy it was to give a man a mask and see his true identity, his true self.

His eyes were finally open.

Fin.