Chapter 17
Peter tilted his head further, trying to read along to the newspaper headline his dad had opened in front of him. A hand came under his, holding his hair away from the cereal bowl.
‘Red Hood strikes again! Will Batman stop him before it’s too late?’
Red Hood allegedly set off a bomb in Cathedral Square. That’s pretty far from Crime Alley, what was he doing there?
“You alright, chum?” Peter jerked back from the hand, looking up to his dad. He blinked owlishly before the words registered.
“Oh! Yeah. Who’s Red Hood?” Peter pointed to the front page. He saw the others tense around the table, his mom ruffled his hair from his side with a tired smile. Tim wasn’t here but Peter was sure he might not like hearing the name so soon.
“No one you need to worry about, Pete.” His dad folded the paper before handing it off to Alfred. Peter watched Alfred place it by the china cabinet. “I didn’t see you last night, how was your playdate with Nate?”
Peter sighed, recounting the planned story he rehearsed with Nate the night before. He hoped to learn more about Red Hood since his dad had to have fought him by now. He hoped Red Hood wouldn’t hurt him too. He couldn’t exactly tell the man to be nice to Batman, though. Not without outing their secret identities in the process.
After breakfast, Peter went up to his room. He would have to wait before he could plan another playdate. Maybe he could try and figure out who the Hood is so his dad doesn’t have to keep chasing him?
He went through his tablet, finding a movie to play before triggering his code. Peter pulled up the previous search on the Red Hood and refreshed the articles. They were similar to what he saw in the newspaper.
A bomb had been set and went off in Cathedral Square and the blame was pointed to the Red Hood. Supposedly there was a gang meeting held there and the Red Hood blew them up. He waited for Batman to show up before taking off, resulting in a chase.
Peter pulled the tablet closer, his dad never mentioned meeting him too! Batman had to have caught up to the Red Hood, he was too good at being a vigilante to lose a trail.
There wasn’t anything written about what happened after the chase, only that the Red Hood was still at large. Robin wasn’t mentioned, probably doing something else when their dad went after Hood. But what happened? His dad didn’t look any more injured than usual so did they talk? Did Red Hood escape without a fight?
His dad wouldn’t tell him anything if he asked, Peter already knew what he’d hear if he tried.
“ When you’re older, Pete. ”
He was old enough. Peter found Red Hood too and he didn’t die. Only one bruise and no one’s noticed.
–
“Damian!” Peter ran into the library, finally finding his brother by the window. His wet hair fell in his face before he pushed it back exasperatedly. “If dad asks, you did it and you said sorry. Okay?”
“What did I do?” Damian lowered his pencil, raising his eyebrow at Peter.
“You… punched me?” Peter had hoped his brother wouldn’t ask for more information but maybe it’s better he knows some of the facts. His mom had already gone to talk to dad and he really didn’t have an answer for the bruise.
Damian frowned as he put the notebook aside. “Who punched you?”
“You! Just tell him you did cuz you were teaching me. He won’t be mad…der…”
Three knocks on the door was enough of a warning of the incoming doom. Peter had managed to snag Steph as his outlook and that was the signal. Peter bounced on his heels, chewing his lip. He would fold if his dad pressed and he definitely would push on this.
They’ll assume Nate or Nate’s dad hit him and then he’ll never be able to sneak out again. It’s a miracle he even managed before.
“Peter?”
Crud.
“Hiiiii dad. What’s up?” Peter turned to see both his parents enter the library. His mom had her arms crossed and his dad looked like a kicked puppy. He was in so much trouble.
“Your mother tells me you have a bruise. What happened?” Peter glanced at his mom, seeing her only raise an eyebrow. He hoped he could do that too someday. The one eyebrow raise is extremely powerful and Peter would be unstoppable once he learns to do it. His dad crouched in front of him, taking his hand before rolling up Peter’s sleeve.
The bruise from Red Hood had already turned yellow. The shapes were obviously fingers and there was no lying about a fall for it.
“That was me. I apologize Father, Peter had been pestering me again and I threw him out of my room.” Damian stood from the window sill. “I had not meant to grab him so roughly.”
Damian caught his eye and Peter had the feeling he was in more trouble than if he just confessed. He knows Peter had been looking into the Red Hood.
“You? Damian… you should know better than this.” His dad frowned, looking between them.
“I confess that Peter irritated me and I acted… emotionally.”
Peter snorted, ducking his head at the eyes that fell to him. No one has seen Damian act emotionally since he tried to kill Tim. He probably had even less emotions back then, too.
“Come with me, Damian. We should talk.” His dad stood up, petting Peter’s hair before leaving. Damian sent him a look before following their dad out. He will be in so much trouble.
His mom took him to Alfred to smear ointment on the bruise, Peter was pretty sure Alfred knew what happened too. Or some idea. Peter fidgeted the entire time before he was able to run away, Alfred not managing to ask any questions by then. Damian would want answers so with that in mind he ran to his brother’s room.
Damian was already there, sitting at his desk with his sketchbook open. He didn’t acknowledge Peter, though he was pretty sure Damian was aware.
“You’re not in too much trouble, right?” Peter hopped onto the bed, stealing one of Damian’s pillows to hug.
“Father has assigned me to wash the cars in his garage. Nothing I cannot handle.” Damian closed his sketchbook with a resounding thud before turning to face him. “Who hurt you?”
“Promise you won’t tell?” Peter didn’t really want to tell Damian but he might be willing to help. Their dad won’t tell Peter anything about the Red Hood but he might share with Damian. Besides, he might already suspect.
Damian nodded, straightening up in his seat. Peter watched him for a second longer before deciding that he couldn’t really lie to him. “The Red Hood.”
Peter watched his brother’s impassive face, expecting some sort of reaction. Damian only nodded slowly before returning to his sketchbook.
“I see. How did you meet him?”
“Nate and I split up and I… ran into him. In Crime Alley. He took me back to Nate’s before Alfred picked me up.” Peter tugged on his sleeves for a moment. “He wasn’t mean… He didn’t mean to hurt me and he said he was sorry!”
“He hurt you. That is inexcusable.” Damian scoffed, focusing back on his drawings. “Leave him to Father or myself.”
Peter huffed, dismissed now. He left Damian to his drawings. Leave Red Hood to his dad. No… the guy was a little mean but he just doesn’t know better right now. He’s hurt too and needs help. Peter was sure that if they were friends, he would be nicer. Maybe he would be a vigilante too! He only wanted to hurt the bad guys anyway, that’s what heroes do.
He just had to wait. One week and he’ll go to Nate’s again. He’ll look for Red Hood again and maybe he can help him. Peter considered his plan. He was sure his dad would be looking for Hood, so Peter has to find him without being caught by any of the vigilantes. He really does need to get a mask.
–
“Stay with your chaperones, kids. No wandering!” Ms. Sweeny called in front of the group. Peter stood beside Nate, attempting to peer over the heads of his classmates at the Gotham Museum of Science.
Peter was both excited and wary of the field trip but he knew that after this week he could go find Red Hood. He just has to avoid any radioactive experiments while he is here. Or… it might actually help…
Their chaperone, Mr. Yarik, led their group down the left corridor as the others split up. Their sheets were a list of treasure hunt fun facts for them to fill out which Peter had already finished during the bus ride. Maybe this will be fine. How likely is it for Peter to be bit twice by a radioactive spider on a field trip, really?
The hall of Storms had a fun tornado tube with kids rushing to line up for it. Peter skirted past it after splitting with Nate, who ran for the front. Ignoring his classmates, Peter went farther in. His eyes skimmed the various paragraphs over storms and weather while his mind went to his current situation.
Damian knows what happened. He hasn’t told anyone either. At least not yet.
Would he tell their dad? Would he tell Dick? Peter had to go and talk to Red Hood again, there was something wrong and he doesn’t think Hood is as bad as the news makes him out to be. Spider-man was considered a menace in Queens if you listened to Jay Jonah Jameson. Red Hood targeted criminals in the way the Punisher did.
He believed he was right and that’s enough. Right?
Peter couldn’t forget that he hurt Tim… but… that had to be something different. A crime of passion, maybe. It was fueled by something that only the Red Hood knows. Peter needed more answers before he could really decide on anything else.
The plasma globe caught his attention, Peter pressed his fingers along the glass as purple lines of electricity reached out. How was he going to talk to the Red Hood? Or track him down in the first place?
“Itty bitty Peter Wayne!” A high manic voice called, footsteps echoing as dead silence took over the room. “We haven’t met yet! Ole Brucie’s keeping ya from me, is he?”
Backing up from the globe, Peter whirled around to spot the man as gunmen in clown makeup rushed to surround the room. His classmates screamed, breaking the silence as they ran, cowering behind Mr. Yarik whereas Peter stood separate from them. He shouldn’t have wandered too far.
The man’s too large smile reminded him of the Green Goblin. His bright eyes and large smile coming close as Peter froze. Peter’s heart raced as distant laughing echoed in his ears. As Aunt May bled out. He shook as the green haired rogue sauntered towards him.
Loud wailing from the other kids dimmed as his blood pumped through his ears.
“I’m your Uncle Joker! And you are coming with me.” Two gunmen stepped up beside him as they pointed said guns to Peter’s head. The Joker turned swiftly before marching out of the Hall of Storms.
Batman’s coming.
Dad will be here.
Peter followed them out of the hall.
__
The museum foyer was lined with hostages as Peter stood as still as possible beside the Joker. The two henchmen stood behind him with their guns aimed at his head should he try and run. He wasn’t dumb enough to even try but Peter wished there was something more he could do.
The hostages were all situated around the room in small clusters. Peter spotted his classmates huddled together near the giant solar system orrery, he could just see Nate near their chaperone with a panicked look as he stared back.
No one had been hurt yet but the Joker isn’t known for leaving victims alive if Batman isn’t around to stop him. Peter wasn’t sure if his dad would even make it in time, he remembers his dad mentioning a board meeting that may not be over. Would Damian and Duke show up again? Will Dick come? What would happen if no one did?
He couldn’t not do anything. Peter wasn’t Spider-man yet but he could still try to protect everyone while they waited. The Joker had since turned to rattle off orders to his men, orders in regards to bombs and toxins. He can’t let that happen. Not while he wasn’t sure how long it would be before a rescue arrives.
“Mr. Joker, sir?” Peter started, shifting the barest inch to strengthen his stance. “I gotta go to the bathroom…”
“And miss all the fun ! Absolutely not!” The Joker turned, an exaggerated expression on his face as he looked down to Peter. “You’ll be right here next to me!”
Peter eyed the clown warily as the man turned back to yell at his henchmen. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t fight them. Peter just had to wait for a rescue. It irked him to be left in the middle of it all and be so helpless. He clenched his fists by his side, begging them to stop shaking as the clown’s eyes left him.
One henchman came forward with a collection of bulky items in hand. Peter straightened at the sight, spotting the vest beneath all the extra additions to it. Green and purple vials and wires crossed over it as the goon shifted the item. Peter took a step back as the man approached, only stopped by the muzzle of a gun pressing against his skull.
“Now you’ll be a good boy, won’t you? Let my good friend Robby-” “Derrick.” “-put this on ya!” The Joker crowed, face splitting in a too wide grin. Ice slid down his back as Peter froze in place once again.
He couldn’t do this. The Joker was just like the Goblin and Peter… Peter couldn’t. He wanted to run. He wanted to save everyone but he really really wanted to run.
The man took the opening, fastening the oversized vest to Peter while tightening the straps and shifting wires in various locations. Peter watched attentively, taking note of each strap and each wire as the heavy vest weighed him down. He forced himself to focus on the steps the man took to attach it, he’ll need to know this. He has to focus.
Where was Batman? When was he coming?
“Now wait here like a good little boy. Batsy should be here soon.” The Joker giggled, pacing the room with translucent canisters filled with the same green liquid. “You’ll want front stage seats for this show!” The Joker turned to his men once again, arms spread out on either side as he cackled at the cries of Peter’s classmates. “One person dies with each minute Batsy’s late! Don’t want him just watching after all.”
A person per minute ? His dad would never make it before people start dying and he’d rush even more with Peter trapped in the center of it all. He forced himself to breathe slower as his heart raced at the words. He couldn’t let them get hurt while they were waiting. Peter flinched at the first gunshot, his eyes instinctively shutting at the sound as high pitched screams erupted from one side of the hall.
A cold hand gripped his chin, his eyes flying open to stare into frenzied green eyes. His breath hitched at the gaze, calculating and bright. The Joker was practically beaming as he grinned down at Peter. “Nuh-uh. Petey, you’re gonna wanna watch this!”
Peter’s face was pushed roughly in the direction of one huddle where people have cowered closer together. A man’s body lay prone nearby as blood seeped from his head. The group cried loudly, hands trying to muffle their sobs as they stared at their laps to avoid the body.
Hissing broke his focus as Peter jerked to the side as green gas began filling the air from various points of the hall. Goons nearby were already sporting gas masks as the Joker pulled one over his own face while leaving Peter free to breath in the air. He was far enough to not be affected yet but it wouldn’t be long before the gas fills the entire space.
He’s heard of the toxins the Joker used from classmates. The Joker gas causes victims to fall into hysterical bursts of laughter that generally leads to death or other serious long term ramifications after prolonged exposure. Peter was curious of the components, he wanted to break it down if he could though he knew for a fact his family had the antidotes for this already.
Peter hoped his family was close. There were too many men to take down and the Joker himself… He couldn’t do anything . He flinched as another shot rang out followed by cries of shock and fear. The clock above the welcoming desk showed 1:34. His dad had to be close. He knew about Peter’s field trip, knew he would be here. The Joker’s arrival had to be on the news by now, there was no way that many people got inside with guns and make-up without attracting attention.
Glass rained down on them as a figure dropped through the ceiling- an answer to his prayer. Peter jumped when both thugs behind him fell to the ground as Batman stood to full height. He could just make out Orphan slipping in with Robin at her tail from one side and Spoiler dropping from another side of the ceiling.
The relief was palpable when Peter finally met his dad’s mask, the white film hiding his blue eyes. He knew his dad would be here soon. He knew Batman wouldn’t be late. He was safe now.
“I have him.” Nightwing landed beside Batman, ushering his dad in the direction of the Joker who cackled loudly by the Hall of Aviation. Peter couldn’t even blink before his dad moved. “Let’s get you out of that, bud.”
His brother moved him farther from the fighting that began, warning him to stay still. Dick got to work on the fastenings as Peter watched his brother clip various wires. One vial, a mixture of purple and green swirling inside, rattled as Nightwing’s fingers ghosted over the wire connected to it. He studied it for a moment longer as Peter waited anxiously. The fight behind him was dying down as Robin tore through the henchmen with Spoiler rushing people past them.
He was safe. His family was all here. They will get everyone out, they’ll save the day.
A sharp gunshot startled Peter as he let himself relax in his brother's attention. Glass shattered from his vest as a bullet passed between them. Peter jumped back as the purple and green tincture fell from his vest, soaking his shoes.
A whimper broke past his lips as his shoes smoked, hissing and bubbling where they stood. Nightwing cursed, lifting his feet in turn to tear the shoes off. Peter stumbled from the sudden motion, falling back as his feet burned.
Peter spotted the spider crawling out from the vest just as he landed. The little arachnid landed in the concoction before curling in on itself just as fire coursed through his veins. Fire took over his senses as darkness melted into his vision.
–
Peter’s face was pale and sweaty. Eyes scrunched shut as he shifted and rocked from the nightmares chasing him. The towel had been replaced barely ten minutes ago and it did next to nothing for his fever. Bruce reached out, a hand gently combing through his sweat soaked hair as he took a seat beside his son.
The Joker had made some new variation of the Joker Venom which had incidentally been tested on his son, something that only reached his feet had somehow led to this. Dr. Thompkins looked him over and Tim had helped with the lab work yet nothing concrete had come up. His feet had already begun healing, a faster rate than should be possible for a non-meta.
Tim had found some traces of radiation coming off Peter’s burnt shoes but the amount was too small to cause this. Even Duke had made a mention of Peter’s aura changing. There had to be something they were missing, but without Peter to tell them what he’s seen… Witness statements were just as unclear. There was nothing more they could do but to wait.
Peter’s blood had been altered, changed in some way they haven’t identified. His DNA had something new added to it that Tim had been spending countless hours trying to identify. This change supposedly is the cause of Peter's fever, as well as the healing. The cause for this whole situation as they waited for him to wake up.
Whatever new concoction this was, it felt disjointed. The Joker would never make a compound that didn’t have some flare to it. This was too subdued for the rogue. He had no way of knowing the shift in DNA and if he did, he wouldn’t have allowed Peter to be rescued. No, this was unforeseen and the Joker couldn’t have predicted it. Whatever the change leads to, they couldn’t allow the Joker to learn about it.
Bruce wanted to focus on it. He wanted to track down everything he could on this but that would mean leaving. Leaving his son’s side and leaving the Manor where he rested.
Batman should be out there looking for the components, the ingredients and tests. He should be looking for the lab it was made in and who helped in its creation.
Batman should… but Bruce couldn’t.
Bruce couldn’t leave his son. Not now. Not ever, if he could help it.
He was too late.
Again.
“Wake up, chum.” Bruce begged quietly, staring at his son.
Ever since Peter had been born, he had brought life to the Manor in a way it’s always been missing. When he first brought Dick home the house had laughter. Jason brought rebellion and drive. Tim was studious and dedicated. Damian, Duke, Cass, and Steph. Every child brought something to Wayne Manor that Bruce had thought was lost all those years ago.
And Peter… Peter breathed life into the old home in a way he never noticed it needed. Peter's hope and his faith in the family brought something to everyone. Bruce woke up every morning thanking the gods he doesn't believe in that his son was there. His bright smile greeting everyone each morning at breakfast. His laughter lit the rooms in a way that the lights themselves fail to do. Peter was the glue keeping their disjointed family together, giving each of them a reason to return home at the end of a grueling patrol. Bruce would fight to the very end for Gotham. But he would fight even beyond that for Peter.
“Bruce.” Selina’s hand carded through his hair as she came to stand in front of him. “He’ll wake up.”
“The kids?”
“Tim locked himself in the lab. The girls and Duke are sleeping, Dick’s pacing in the kitchen with Alfred, and Damian’s training.” Selina huffed, a sad laugh. “Your menagerie of kids are just as worried. He’ll wake up. Our kitten is the best of us.”
“I need to be here, Selina. I need him to wake up.” Bruce couldn’t lose his son. He never thought himself capable of having kids, not while he was meant to be Batman. Then he took in a boy that reminded him too much of himself and he never stopped. Each child brought into Wayne Manor had taken a part of his heart with them and he couldn’t lose a single one.
Not after Peter. Not after Jason…
He was supposed to wake up.
He is supposed to be okay.
Leslie said the side effects were a severe case of fever so far, something that shouldn’t be too bad. Constant surveillance was needed if Bruce didn’t want him in the hospital, especially not until they knew more about this altered DNA. He’ll wake up. If Bruce told himself this enough, maybe, just maybe some god out there will grant him this.
He just needs Peter to wake up.
Please.
Not Peter.
Wake up.
Not his son.
Wake up.
Don't take his son from him. Please.
Wake up, Peter.
–
Tim sat in the labs, glaring at the screen in front of him. Big letters flashed again- Inconclusive.
“Fuck this.” Groaning, he let his head fall onto the keyboard. Maybe the random keys would solve the problem for him.
Peter still wasn’t up yet. Thompkins did what she could but apparently they just had to wait. Wait for Peter to wake up. Tim wished there was more to it than that. Some antidote or solution that would have Peter up and about sooner. The manor was weirdly quiet without him causing his usual mayhem.
“You should get some rest before you pass out.” Dick joined him in the lab, dressed in his Nightwing suit. Tim eyed the time, patrol started in just a few minutes. He was still recovering and wasn’t allowed out on patrol for at least another month or two. Tim threw his focus elsewhere ever since Peter’s field trip. He hoped he could find something to help wake him up. Something to save his baby brother.
“I can’t.”
“Passing out won’t help Peter. You know he’ll bug you once he wakes up if you look half-dead.” Dick tried to joke before sighing when it didn't land, leaning against the counter. “He’ll wake up. Whatever that… whatever that stuff was hasn’t killed him. Peter will be up soon and he really will get after you for missing out on sleep.”
Tim glared at the screen for a moment longer before giving up. He won’t get any more answers without talking to Peter first. He might have heard something before everything. God, in a way, Tim prayed Peter would give up on being a vigilante now. He hoped Peter would be scared from that and want to stay home where it was safe for him.
But Peter has been demanding lessons since he learned to walk. The kid would definitely use this as an excuse. Tim groaned at the possible arguments the kid would make as soon as he woke up. He’ll send all of them into an early grave if he ever puts on a suit.
–
Damian watched as Peter slept in his bed. He looked smaller than usual with layers of blankets covering his shaking form. Their father had been dragged out on patrol by Richard earlier and it was only the chance of murder that Damian had been banned from going out that night.
He took this opportunity to check in on his half-brother. His mother had mentioned him after Damian had earned the right to learn of his father. Peter Wayne-Kyle. Worthless. Childish. Unprepared. Useless.
Those were the words his mother had used once to describe him.
Damian considered those words once again. Peter was childish to be sure. He always pushed the numerous children within the Manor, Damian included, to play whatever game he wished to in the moment. He was the first to cry over a fictitious character of a childish movie he chose himself. He could not fight nor be of use for Batman or the company. He was untrained and barely skilled enough to be the vigilante he desires to be.
His mother was right in some ways. But she was grossly incorrect in many others.
Peter was not useless. He was not unprepared despite his lack of training. His brother had something Damian lacked.
A golden heart.
He wished hard for the good in life and stopped at nothing to achieve it. While many civilians may dream and whine, Peter stood tall and faced his troubles, beating the wall back to make room for the good. Damian envied him in that way. Peter always saw the good, even in Damian despite his actions when he first arrived. He never gave up hope when he truly believed in something.
While Peter may be unassuming, it was not for a lack of anything at all. Peter held a mind far beyond his years. He took in lessons like a sponge and found ways to slither around a situation like a snake. Damian knew that Peter would be the best Robin yet, no matter how much that thought may hurt.
“Wake up, brother. We are waiting.” Damian sighed, poking Peter’s cheek parallel to the moments he had done so to wake Damian some mornings. Childish, but full of heart that was beaten from Damian early on.
Peter would be the best of them one day.
–
“I wanted you to be better.”
“ If you’re nothing without the suit, you shouldn’t have it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re just a scared little kid in a sweatsuit.”
“If you were good enough, maybe Tony would still be alive.”
“You have a gift…with great power comes great responsibility…”
Wake up.
Sound was first. Heart beats drumming to a rhythm echoed in his ears, drowning out the blood flowing through veins from the bodies nearby. Conversation through walls reached him, muffled and clear at the same time. A dog sleeping, rolling over in their bed. A bird flying somewhere outside. Lungs exhaling.
Then came feeling. A heavy, wet towel draped over his forehead itched as each follicle touched his face. A hand, rough and calloused fingers carding through his hair. A pile of blankets touched his skin, burning him as the fabric tingled up and down his arms. The feeling felt foreign, alien.
Wrong.
Wrong .
Whining, Peter pushed at it. Hoping to throw it away as he tried in vain to put distance from the feeling.
“Peter?”
Holding back a cry as the single word seemed to be as loud as all of New York, Peter turned from his dad. His senses dialed up to an 11 for the first time in years, he was unprepared for the onslaught.
Peter hadn’t fully expected his powers to come back. He didn’t think that another field trip would produce another radioactive spider for him. He didn’t think he’d get them now .
“Peter?” Softer now, the voice begged for his attention - for an answer. Another repeat of his name came from the second heartbeat, both drumming in singularity.
“Is loud.” Peter mumbled as his hands clutched over his ears. He had to get control of his senses. He’s gone through this before and it shouldn’t be so difficult. Footsteps from the hall came closer, a loud beating of footsteps carrying a calm heart towards his door.
Someone passed instructions to that heartbeat, to Alfred. Peter took a moment, breathing as he tried to focus. He remembered focusing was important. Grounding yourself. His dad’s heartbeat had calmed now, a steady rhythm to listen to as he pushed all other sounds away.
Slowly his senses refocused. The volume of the world was still too loud, too bright and piercing but it was bearable. It was enough for now. Head still pounding, Peter sat up as his parents moved as one to pull him in a hug.
“You’re okay. You’re alright now, chum.”
“I knew you’d come back to us, kitten.”
--
7 Year Old Peter Wayne-Kyle injured after Joker Attack. / Joker back behind bars.
Jason gripped the cup tightly, grass crackling beneath calloused fingers. The dark room did nothing for his bad mood, made worse by the article that just popped up. The Joker attacked again.
The Joker hurt Peter.
Did he use a crowbar, too? Was Peter just beaten up? How hurt was he?
It took everything in him not to storm Wayne Manor to check on his brother. He only just got to see him again. He just got to see how much he's grown, how close was he to losing Peter to that monster?
Batman had sent the Joker back to Arkham. A little more beaten up but still fucking alive. Even after the freak hurt Peter, Bruce really couldn't kill him. Jason growled as green flooded his vision. Of course not. The big bad Bat couldn't kill the guy even after he killed one son and hurt the other.
No. Batman would rather collect more kids to die for his cause. Let the kids who were trained to fight die for the city but let the real killers live on and haunt them. What would it take for the Bat to finally kill the Joker? If even Peter being hurt wasn't enough?
Glass shattered at his feet as alcohol bit into his palm. Jason hissed, shaking his hand out. He clutched the phone while wiping his other hand on the only clean rag beside him. Bloodied rags piled by one side of the couch, his first aid kit left open in favor of reading the article.
He shouldn't have made Peter promise to stay away. He'll have to find him. Check on him from a safe distance. He'll have to avoid Bruce and all his kids he's collected, all for one glimpse of his baby brother. He just had to make sure. Jason took in a deep breath, staring at the news article on his screen. The death count being blessedly small this time. Still, what had Peter seen?
He has to check in on Peter. Only then can he move on with his plan. The Joker was caged up for now. He has a small window to do what he wants. If Bruce won't kill him...
He'll do it. The Red Hood will keep Peter safe if Batman refused to.