|The Warehouse Murder
Author: Akiry PM
Oneshot. Written version of the first scene in Batman: Under the Red Hood. Rated T for violence and Jason's perspective.Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Drama - Jason Todd - Words: 1,389 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 4 - Published: 06-29-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8269049
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I'm not entirely sure whether this can be included as "fanfiction" or even really accepted on this website, since all this happened in Batman: Under the Red Hood... I just thought I would like writing this scene out, purely in Jason's perspective.
Well, please tell me if I'm not allowed this on here and whether or not I should take it down I guess... and enjoy!
Jason panted as he tried to catch his breath from the last blow and he struggled to his knees. His hands were shackled, his mask torn where the madman had tried to rip it from his face. The cold metal of the crowbar struck his face again, causing him to fall back on the cold surface of the warehouse's floor. Cruel laughter rang in his eardrums as his attacker continued to pound at his already hurt body. He coughed as he struggled to keep the blood inside him and he stared up into the crazed eyes of the Joker.
'Wow,' said his assailant, 'That looked like it really hurt.' He smiled, revealing white teeth as the crowbar rose in the air once again and came down to smash on Jason's skull.
Jason grunted as his weak body twisted and turned whilst the Joker hit him until he was left lying on his back, panting heavily and bloody from the new wound. He struggled as he tried once again to free his hands from the cuffs that gripped him.
'Whoa, now hold on,' said his green-haired captor, 'That looked like it hurt a lot more.' He grinned as he watched Jason flinch when he rested the tip of the metal pole on the boy's chest. 'So,' he said, 'Let's try and clear this up, okay pumpkin? What hurts more? A?' he pounded the boy's forehead with the bar, 'Or B?' He pounded the back of his head. 'Forehead? Or back head?'
The Joker drew his arm up and hit Jason again and again. He laughed as he watched the boy cough up blood as he lay in a in a bloody mess on the floor in front of him. Jason tried to mumble something but it came out unintelligible. The Joker bent down to hear better, 'A little louder, lamb chop,' he whispered and he stroked and caressed the boy's dark hair, 'I think you may have a collapsed lung - that always pains the oratory.'
Jason spat at the Joker, leaving the pale face wet with red. His captor stared at Jason, in surprise at first, before anger grew in his eyes. He gripped the boy's head with his hand and smashed it hard against the ground and he rose.
'Now that was rude,' the Joker said, taking out a handkerchief from the front pocket of his long, flowing purple coat, 'The first Boy Wonder at least had some manners.' He wiped some of the specks away from his face, but ended up just smearing it further. Jason turned his head round to face him and gave him a bloody grin.
'I suppose I'm going to have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps.' The Joker seemed to give what he had just said some thought before he smirked, 'Nah. I'm just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar.'
Jason's smile quickly faded to be replaced by a frown as he bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut. He tried not to yell as the Joker kept beating him and beating him, bruising his ribs, his arms, his legs, and making his head bleed till he was dizzy. He willed himself not to plead for the abuse to stop as he swam in and out of consciousness as the strikes varied in strength. Every now and then, the Joker would stop for a bit to laugh some more, and Jason would recover some of his strength – just enough to turn over or to be able to sit upright, an attempt to show he was unharmed and that his strong will was not yet broken, but by the end of his treatment, the second Boy Wonder could barely open his eyes.
Suddenly the Joker stopped. He threw the crowbar to the other side of the room and turned his back on Jason, 'Okay kiddo, I've got to go,' he said, opening the door and letting in the cool air from outside as he adjusted his coat around him, 'It's been fun though, right?' He studied the heap lying on the floor as he waited for the boy to answer, 'Well, maybe a smidge more fun for me than you. I'm just guessing since you're being awful quiet.' He raised an eyebrow as the boy still did not answer.
'Anyway,' he continued, 'be a good boy, finish your homework and be in bed by nine. And hey! Please tell the big man I said "hello".' He drew up his hood and laughed as he shut the door behind him, plunging into the cold and leaving the Boy Wonder cradled on the floor in his own blood, sweaty and panting heavily.
Jason opened his eyes tiredly as he listened to the sound of the Joker walking away through the snow – he could still hear the cackles. He rolled over and got back to his knees with the sole thought of getting out. The Joker had been fooled by his act of weakness. Still, he struggled as he stood painfully on shaky legs. He found only one of his eyes would open fully and he gazed round the room dully, confused for several moments.
He stumbled before even trying to move and found his body heavy. He took a step towards the door, but fell quickly to the floor, his hands, still shackled, unable to catch him before he hit it. He narrowed his eyes. His head hurt, he couldn't concentrate properly. His eyesight seemed to swim in and out of focus as he studied the door that, by now, seemed miles away from him. He panted as he worked towards the door, dragging his broken body over to it painfully.
Where was Bruce? Why wasn't the Batman here to save him yet? Surely he hadn't abandoned him? Jason cursed as he mentally kicked himself. Of course Bruce wouldn't leave him. Bruce cared for him. Bruce would help him. But did he even know where he was?
Still struggling, he reached the door, leaving a thin trail of red in his path. He got heavily to his knees and reached up to open the door, but found that it was locked. He clenched the metal handle in his hands but it soon became obvious that this effort was useless. He grunted as he let the handle go and fell backwards slightly. He wavered as he tried to clear his head and fell upon the door. It made a low clang that rang through his head. He sat against it as he wondered what to do next. There didn't seem to be any windows easy to get to; all he could do was wait.
He clutched his side where the Joker had bruised and broken several of his ribs when a slow beeping reached his ears. His vision cleared but his mind stayed blurry as he tried to focus on the noise. Beep… Beep… Beep. What was that sound? Where was it coming from? He found he did not care. His body was too crumpled; he was in too much pain to care for that shrill noise.
But that's when it struck him – a bomb. He lifted his head in surprise as he tried to find a source of the ticking, and spotted it easily to his right. The timer on it said "9".
He stared at the bomb as the seconds counted down. At first, his heart raced at the thought of what he knew was coming, but he quickly found himself calm. His body relaxed and he accepted his fate. Bruce wouldn't make it. And neither would he.
He watched the ticking in silence other than his heavy breathing, and just before the clock his "2", he closed his eyes. 'I'll miss you, Bruce.'