A few changes to the behavior of characters in the usual portrayals will be made. Specifically, Batman, I don't like how Batman is portrayed as taking in Jason solely as a replacement for Dick, leaving the Robin role. By adjusting the ages of certain people and directing their personalities in a specific direction, I hope to make a change. Specifically, I want him to be this broken man working his hardest to be a father.
I will also be making a deep dive into martial arts, compared to most Batman comics. I have a passion for martial arts, boxing in particular, so building Jason's style around it will be fun for me. I won't be particular about the technique to the point where it takes huge parts of chapters, but I will mention it regularly.
I don't want to go into detail too much, but Jason will use both weapons and hand-to-hand. This is NOT a harem. I hate them with a passion. I will never write one. This story will have one love interest.
Jason (17) as of the kidnapping.
Dick/Nightwing (18) is currently in college and just took the Nightwing role a few months ago. Had taken a break from hero work once he reached college.
Bruce(35) as of the kidnapping
Barbara Gordon (19) was crippled and recovering as of the kidnapping
Damian (3) is still with Talia
Harley Quinn (19) is a sophomore at the college Dick goes to, a genius psychiatrist who's already being let treat patients of the highest order.
Rose Wilson (Ravanger) (17) is still training under her father, but already doesn't want to follow in his steps, contemplating escaping him.
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He'll find me, he always does' I repeated in my head over and over and over as the crowbar smashed into me, a mantra barely keeping me sane. Weeks and weeks, over and over, all I'd felt was torment ripping through my mind and body. A symphony of pain was ringing through me as if I were a hollow shell.
"cRUnch CRack Nnghh." Each blow landed more painfully than the last as I tried and failed to keep my voice silent. My voice came out raspy and full of chalk-like dryness. The screaming over the first few days, combined with the lack of water, made my throat feel like sandpaper.
"HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" The laugh rebounded off the walls, converging on me, making the skin on my neck stand horrified. It was always the same laugh, not losing any of the joy that was mixed into every one of its notes.
I was currently in a pretty small warehouse made to hold canned goods about the size of the bottom floor of a regular house. Around the room lay boxes stacked on top of each other, and a forklift was at my far right. Currently, I sat in a chair strapped up completely with ropes tight around my limbs.
How you feeling, kiddo? Is my hospitality up to par? Sorry if it doesn't keep up with dear old bats; he's always been my little perfectionist. " The monster stood over me, a grin of pure glee spread ear to ear, as he spoke, he gave me a second of refuge before continuing his assault. Every second, more and more pain invaded my body, and Joker devoured it like a druggie to his favorite substance.
I didn't have enough strength to open my mouth, let alone send a jab back at him, so I focused on keeping sane. Allowing him to make a crack in my mind at all would be the end of me, so I focused on distracting myself.
I prided myself on being able to thug out any type of trauma I was dealt, yet this was definitely pushing it. The slight hope I'd had at the beginning of the newest session was already faltering. What if I truly died here? How would the others feel? Would they dismiss it as a necessary evil and stick him back in a cell? No way, not after I died, one of them wouldn't kill him. I refused to believe it.
I accepted I would die, and now all I want to do is live just a little longer.
I held back tears, forcing myself not to think of what could've been. I wouldn't let him get the better of me. I thought of the millions of lives Joker had taken, and it really hit me that I would be part of that number. Another hit landed as I braced myself, taking a deep breath. Closing my eyes tight, I focused on other things, trying to make myself zone out and mitigate the pain.
One thing I had started working on since I got in here is cataloging my memories, fearing I would be here a long time, I needed to make sure I wouldn't lose myself. What better way is there to keep your identity than by keeping your experiences?
I'd always had a good memory, so doing this was just a way to push it even more. Since I'd gotten here, I'd improved more and more at remembering even the smallest details. Over time, my mind drifted to the broadest years, specifically the last three.
Four people showed up the most; they'd taken me in and treated me like their own, and I was grateful for that. My de facto family, who, even if I'd never admit it, were the people I love the most.
Batman (35), the masked vigilante, everyone important knew him as the masked vigilante of Gotham, though most normal people thought he was an urban legend.
Dick Grayson (18), sidekick to the great hero who bore the persona of Robin, was an orphan Bats picked up and ultimately trained to fight crime all throughout the city. Last year, he headed to college, and after taking a year off, he recently came out as the hero Nightwing.
Finally, Barbara Gordon (19), Chief Police Officer Jim Gordon's niece, who arrived a few months before me. Formally, she was Batgirl, yet after Walmart Jester kidnapped her, she was crippled from the waist down. She always acted like an older sister, and in return, I tried to make her feel as normal as possible.
3 years ago, when I was 14, I tried stealing the tires off the Batmobile. Dick and Bruce caught me, ultimately taking me in, and I'd been training to fight crime ever since. My first patrol only happened after I officially inherited the Robin mantle from Dick when he headed to college.
The assault stopped, and I immediately did a bare minimum status check. I have 3 broken ribs, my right pinkie was shattering down the middle, and both my feet were deformed. I was bruised all over, and if push came to shove, I had no way to defend myself. Opening my eyes, I watched as the Joker stared at me with a bloodlusting grin on his face.
"Wake, wake, little boy, I know you love your little naps, but your attention is needed right now." He sang, skipping in a circle around me, giggling away as he glared at me.
"Unfortunately, our time being cut short, it seems like your dad's finally caught up."
Tell him I said HI once he gets here. Don't come after me, though, I know I'm a hot commodity, but I'm a busy man." He said before exaggeratingly bowing at me as if I was the audience to his latest comedy. Not even waiting for a reply, he opened the door, waving at me, his grin only getting wider as he watched a flicker of hope appear in my eyes.
I tried my best to calm my racing heart, I tried not to let myself have any expectations, yet I couldn't stop thinking of making it out.
"Snap." My right wrist broke as white pain shot through my mind, almost knocking me out cold.. Clenching my teeth as tight as possible, I forced my hand through the binds as my hands finally came free. Ignoring the pain, I pushed off the chair, falling to the ground before starting my crawl. Grabbing the handle of the door, I propped myself off before taking my chance and turning it.
No movement.
'Of course there isn't,' I thought bitterly before closing my eyes and heaving, trying to collect my strength.
"Tick Tick Tick," A sound I was all too familiar with, reached my ears as despair finally gripped my heart. Opening my eyes, I saw a clock attached to wires slowly ticking down from 7, one of Joker's signature bombs. I'd recognize it anywhere.
'Fuck, guess I really amounted to nothing, ' I said as my mind finally broke, tears flowing down my face.
A splash of light assaulted me before everything went black. On that day, Jason died, having achieved nothing of significance. Achieved, guess it's true, a child of Gotham won't ever escape their lives.
Pov: Third person outside of the warehouse.
Dick ran full speed, twisting and turning through the trees, making his way to the warehouse. About a month and a half ago, he'd been recalled from college to help find Jason. Hearing what happened, he feared the worst, and after all this time, they finally found him.
'Faster faster faster,' He pushed himself more and more as his gut twisted and turned, thinking of what his beloved brother had gone through. Oracle (Barbs) gave directions through his earpiece as he finally saw the building in the distance.
He'd just gotten through the trees when it happened. Blinding light blasted him as he flew back, crashing into the ground.
"Dick, you ok!" Barbara Gordan yelled through the earpiece. Ignoring the pain, I took a deep breath before speaking, as I pushed myself out of the rubble.
"That fucker Joker blew it up."
Batman was breaking through the rubble desperately as I got to the building. That's when I saw a hand hanging out of a group of rubble.
'No, please, no, let me be wrong.' I ripped the rubble off, and there he lay, one of the people closest to me, my best friend, discarded like a piece of trash.
"JaSON PlEAsE" My voice broke as I wailed over and over, Barbs sobbing into my mic. His body limp, cold as ice, as his blood flowed onto me, bathing me in heat.
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Another life extinguished due to the consequences of humanity.
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Author here: Tell me if you have any criticism about my writing style or about the story I love hearing feedback.