The Ache of Betrayal: Part Nine
Ughh. I hate this part, but no matter how I edited it I couldn't make it better :( Also the delay was because it was my birthday! yayyyy. Anyway, please excuse how late this is and enjoy two brothers bonding through violence!
Trigger warnings: Mentioned torture, dislocation, guns, fighting, mentions of Arkham Asylum.
Part eight/Part ten (final part)
It had been easier than expected to leave the room unnoticed. After the Joker’s horrific performance, he had ordered everyone to search the building.
Everyone had split into groups of three or more. After I left with one, I didn't wait long to knock them out.
I make my way toward the front of the building. If Bruce and Damian really are here, I needed to find them before the fake Red Hood found them. Or worse, The Joker.
That imposter himself had come to visit me himself more than a few times. He was the most sadistic of them all, preening about how special he was as he cut into me.
About how I had never been fit to hold any title, the Red Hood, or Robin.
My rage builds as I think about it. Fuck Bruce’s rules, if I saw him again, I was going to show him exactly how I got to be the biggest crime lord in Gotham.
But that can wait. Getting away from this place was my first priority.
I just hope my family hasn't given up looking for me yet.
Speaking of family, I hear the muffled, angry, high pitched tones of my little brother echoing from down from one of the hallways.
Trying to listen, I quickly find that from this distance I can’t make out any words, but I hear the distinct sound of bodies being thrown around. That’s enough for me to decide to head down there.
I make it down the hall as fast as I possibly can, only to find Damian had already taken out at least a dozen goons.
He whirls around, ready to fight me as well until he sees my face. “Todd?” His voice lacks its usual bite, and if I really was trying to read something into it, maybe even a hint of concern.
“In the flesh- or what's left of it.” I attempt to smirk, but my cracked lips protest the movement.
“Not funny.” He hisses and quickly rushes over. “What’s your status?”
I give him a one shouldered shrug. “Broken bones, cuts, burns, you know. Just the usual menagerie of injuries. I think we should focus more on avoiding being caught by my copycat.”
“Copycat?” Damain asks, cocking a brow and muttering, “That explains how Father knew you weren’t behind the murders.”
I scoff indignantly as we start down a hall, Damain slowing his gait to match mine. “What? He didn’t tell you? Typical Batman.”
Damian watches me for a moment too long. I take a break to catch my breath, half collapsing against the wall when I do. “What?” I snap, exhaustion clear in my voice.
It takes another second for Damian to stop, standing about two yards away when he finally speaks up. “Father has been… Since he found out you were taken again, by the Joker no less, he’s not been himself.
What he says sounds too much like the rumors I heard earlier. I’m hesitant to speak my mind, but I force the words out anyway, “Did he hurt anyone?”
Damian looks away, and I feel a mix of feelings in my gut. None of them are the validation I always thought I’d feel if Bruce fought for me, the vindication for my own actions.
Instead, what I felt plaguing my heart was guilt.
I’m lost in my thoughts for a moment too long, I don’t notice the movement behind him until too late. By then I’m unable to stop the imposter from grabbing Damian and holding a dagger to the pulse point in his neck.
Even with all the training of The League and Batman, Damian couldn’t break the imposter’s hold without risking his life. I knew it, and from the way Damian stills, it’s clear he knows it too.
“Well well well, looks like I found myself two little birdies all on their lonesome!”
I roll my eyes. “Wow, cliched villain much? You couldn’t even find original words, you had to copy someone else for those too.”
The imposter’s smile drops and he leans forward, hissing right next to Damians ear, “How’d you like to die because your friend here can’t keep his mouth shut, kiddo?”
I try to ignore the way Damian’s brow pinches or the way he shifts to lessen the pressure of metal at his throat.
“Okay, listen. There’s no need to over react, I’ll come with you, just let the kid go.” I raise my hands and keep my face neutral, refusing to let him see how worried I truly was.
Knowing this psycho, if he realized I cared he’d probably slit Damian’s throat just to watch me suffer.
The imposter relaxes a little. “huh, you’d really do that wouldn’t you? Just to see this kid safe.”
I shrug, ignoring how it pulls on my wounds. “I would for any kid, he’s nothing special.”
Damian doesn’t react and I try to tell myself that he knows that I don’t mean any of it. Despite that, I promise myself that after all this is over, I’ll make sure the kid knows the truth.
The imposter smirks before quickly pressing two fingers where he previously held the blade to Damian’s neck, pressing them in until the kid passes out.
A spark of panic runs through me as he throws Damian to the side, but I’m prevented from checking on him by the draw of a gun.
“Here’s how this is going to work. Our last fight wasn’t exactly on even footing, with all those toys the Joker provided me with, so you and I are going to fight again. Whoever is still alive by the end will be worthy of the name Red Hood.
I can’t help but scoff at the absurdity of it all. “Even footing? You think this here, is even footing? I’ve been tortured for weeks!”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine, let’s make it even then.”
I don’t even get the chance to think about looking away as he grabs his shoulder and pushes it out of place with a sickening pop.
His only sign of discomfort is a wince, and I stare at him for a moment. I’d had my fair share of dislocations, they’re fucking painful.
“So? Are we doing this?” He sneers, gun still in hand.
I take a moment to look at Damian. the kid wouldn’t be waking up for a while, and I couldn’t stall enough to give him a chance anyway.
I dip my head in a silent nod, and he grins victoriously. He unloads his gun and throws it to the side. “Come on then, let’s get started.”
Even with a dislocated shoulder, he still definitely had the advantage. Any attack I might try would probably end with him throwing me across the room.
So instead I just smirk. “What, you want me to attack you? You started this, it seems only fair that you get to make the first move.”
He scoffs and stretches his neck. “How generous of you. Alright, I’ll play ball. Let’s see how long you can avoid your inevitable death.”
As expected he moves with a speed I have no hopes of matching, but years of training under the bat has me moving on instinct. I drop to the ground and roll out of the way, pushing myself into a crouch and kicking the back of his knee.
It hurts me more than it hurts him, but my goal wasn’t to win. No, there was no way in hell I was going to beat him.
I had just needed a head start to that gun.
As he falls I don’t waste a single second, throwing myself across the room and grabbing the gun.
My hands shake but I still manage to reload the gun, whipping around to aim just in the nick of time.
He stopped, having already made it halfway towards me while I had struggled. His eyes narrow, clearly debating whether he’d still be able to fight with a bullet in his chest.
“Don’t think about it.” I growl, steadying my aim. “What did you think was going to happen here? You like to tell me how small I am, how insignificant, but what the fuck kind of man threatens a child?”
I lift the gun to point at his head. “I would choose, any day, to be insignificant if it meant not being like you.”
Just as I finish saying it, I cock the trigger, ready to kill him and be done with it.
How much progress have I made this past year? My family had given me a second chance, and I was going to waste it on this pathetic excuse of a man?
His smile falters and he blinks. “Excuse me?”
I poke his head with the gun. “Your name stupid, do you remember it? Or have you been pretending to be someone else for so long you don’t have your own identity anymore?”
He pauses, obviously offended, but he nods. “Yeah, of course I do, It’s Karlos.”
“Well, Karlos. I better not cross paths with you again. And if I ever find you imitating me again, or anyone else, I’m not going to fight you. I’m just gonna take you to Arkham.”
I smirk. “And even though we both know you’re sane, I will make sure they don’t. And all this glory you’re looking for will be viewed as the insane delusion of a sick man.”
His face twists into one of disgust and horror. He tries to bluff, pretending the idea doesn't scare him. “Why do you think any of this will work? It would be safer just to kill me instead of taking that risk.”
I shake my head. “No, then you’d get what you want. I know you’re afraid, because I’ve had that same fear every day since I came back to Gotham. Because everyone is afraid of being abandoned.”
Grinning, I hit his head with the butt of the gun, causing him to crumple. “But good luck getting anyone else to understand that.”
Before I rest, I take a moment to tie up Karlos. What a stupid name—
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
My shoulders tense as I hear Damian’s voice. How long had he been awake for?
“That was just a bit, just a way to scare him straight. I doubt after this we’ll be hearing from him again.”
“Father would never send you to an asylum, let alone Arkham.”
After Damain says it, I can’t bring myself to respond. My hand automatically drifts up to the scar around my neck, something that, for the most part, I can forget about.
But not when Damian thinks Bruce wouldn’t hurt his kids, wouldn’t hurt us.
Before Damian can question me further I force myself to stand back up. “We should get going before more goons find us, otherwise you might be fighting beside a corpse.”
“Well! It seems you still haven’t lost that attitude Boy Blunder!”
As the Joker steps in, crowbar slung over his shoulder. I can’t help but internally scream at how shitty my luck was. Karlos over here must have radioed him or sent some sort of signal at some point.
Now that I think about it, Joker had probably been keeping an eye on this loose cannon the whole time. The joker was insane, not an idiot.
Damian was already on his feet, some random scrap of wood in his hand in place of a weapon.
We are so dead.
