Jason entered Dick's room, his eyes going straight to the sleeping teenager on the bed. Dick still looked awful; a thin sheen of sweat had erupted on his pale skin, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever.

"Has he woken up yet?" Jason asked.

Bruce, sitting on a chair beside the bed, replied. "Not yet. The doctors said it could be awhile. His body was pushed too hard in the condition he was in. Rest is the best thing for him right now."

Jason took in his mentor's stiff posture, the tightness of his jaw.

"You're angry," he noted.

"Yes," Bruce's voice was flat as he turned his stony gaze to Jason. "I am."

Jason rolled his eyes and glared. "Look, I'm not going to apologize for what I did. That sick bastard had it coming, and to be perfectly honest? I wish you would have let me finish him off."

Bruce rose from his chair, seized Jason's arm, and pulled him bodily from the room. As soon as they were in the hall and Dick's door was shut, Jason jerked away.

"I thought we were past this," Bruce said angrily. "I thought we were past your need to kill."

"My need? Are you serious, right now?! This has nothing to do with my instincts or urges for violence, Bruce! It has everything to do with what that murdering psychopath did to children, and what he tried to do to Dick! How can you not be angry? How can you care about whether that scum lives or dies?!" Jason spat.

"I care about you, Jason, and of course I'm angry!" Bruce shot back heatedly. "I could have lost my son. I almost did. And what that monster put Dick through…it makes me so furious I can't even think. But I care too much about Dick to do what you tried to do."

"That sick freak deserves to die!" Jason threw his hands up in frustration.

"What about Jessica?" Bruce asked, his expression dark. "Did she deserve to die?"

That threw him. "Who?"

"Jessica Santos, the twelve year old pianist whose heart had given out while you were busy choking the life out of the Collector?" Bruce growled. "I lost precious seconds preventing you from committing murder, and I was almost too late to save her."

"I-"

"And what about Dick, Jason?" Bruce continued. "Did you realize that he was still conscious, that he saw what you were doing? That I had to leave my scared and injured son so that he wouldn't watch his own brother kill someone?"

Jason was stunned. He felt sick, the weight of his actions crashing over him in a heavy avalanche. His expression must have reflected how he felt, because Bruce's face softened.

"And what about yourself, Jason? Do you really want to go back down that road?"

Jason sighed heavily, rubbing his hand over his face. "No, I don't. But Bruce, that monster is still alive, and shoving him into Arkham Asylum isn't the answer either. You know just as well as I do that that kind of obsession doesn't die, it festers, and when has anyone we put in there actually stayed in? As long as that man is alive, Dick is in danger."

"That's why he isn't in Arkham Asylum."

"Wait, what?"

"I had him transferred immediately to one of the secure Justice League holding cells to await his trial. There's enough evidence stacked up against him to put him away for life in one of the world's most secure prisons, or worse," Bruce replied. "That psychopath is never getting near Dick again."

Jason sighed again and leaned against the wall. He suddenly felt exhausted and ashamed. God, what must have Dick thought when he saw what Jason was doing? What must he think of his "big brother" now?

"I really fucked up," Jason said, his eyes closed. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"I thought you said you weren't going to apologize," Bruce gave a small smirk, then sighed. "Look, I'd be lying if I told you that part of me didn't want you to do what you did, Jason. I wanted that man to suffer too, just not at the expense of you. You'll have to talk to Dick, once he wakes up. He'll understand, once you've explained what happened, and that you'll never do anything like that again," he finished sternly.

"The girl," Jason said suddenly, looking up at his mentor. "Jessica, is she-?"

"The doctors expect her to make a full recovery," Bruce reassured him. "Though I can't say whether or not she will ever go near a piano again."

Jason's face darkened. "I've seen so much, Bruce. And yet it still surprises me how evil people can be and the horrible things they are capable of."

"It's something you never get used to," Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder and looked towards Dick's room. "But there's always light in the darkness, if you know where to look."

Jason grinned. "Has Dick got you watching Harry Potter again?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't, Dumbledore. You mind if I take the next watch?"

"Go ahead. Be sure to get me or Alfred when he wakes up," Bruce patted his arm and headed down the hall.

Jason went back into Dick's room and sat down next to the boy's bed. He leaned back in the chair as he examined Dick's sleeping face and tried to think of what he was going to say to him once he woke up.

Needles stabbed into every surface of his skin as fire erupted in his ribs. Dick couldn't breathe, couldn't take in a single breath, yet still he kept performing.

"The show must go on," someone whispered in his ear, but that was impossible as he was completely airborne.

Sweat rolled down his back and face, burning his eyes, and his stomach was cramping violently, but it was as if the pain was all in his mind, because his body took no notice. He just kept reaching for the next set of bars, kept swinging, kept flipping, kept soaring through the air.

God, why wouldn't it end? He just needed to breathe!

And then suddenly he was standing on a platform, hundreds of miles in the air. The wind crashed violently against him, threatening to send him flying off to his death. Dick's heart raced as he stared at the ground below him. He heard screaming and the sound of two wet, broken crashes.

Icy arms encircled him and pulled him against a body. "My Richard," the Collector purred in his ear, his rancid breath making Dick choke and want to pull away. But his body refused to obey him. "Are you ready for the big finale?"

No! Dick screamed mentally. Please, don't make me do this! His lips remained clamped shut. Someone please help me!

The Collector released him, and he obediently stepped forward onto the very edge of the platform.

Dick's arms rose against his will, and he looked in horror at the strings hooked into his skin at all of his joints. His eyes followed the crimson strands up, seeing them connected above his head by a wooden cross, held by the massive hand of the Collector.

"Fly, Robin, fly!" the madman cried triumphantly and cut the strings. Dick's body crumpled lifelessly and tipped forward off of the platform. He fell, faster and faster, eyes streaming, mentally screaming as his body betrayed him. The ground got closer and closer and oh God, he was going to die just like his parents, and he never got to say goodbye to Bruce or Jason or Alfred or his friends.

Time sped up instead of slowing down as Dick crashed into the ground.

Jason shot to his feet, heart in his throat, as Dick woke, desperately gasping for air. The boy was panicking, unable to catch his breath; his eyes were wide, his hands scrabbled at his throat as his body thrashed beneath the sheets.

"Dick! Dick, it's alright!" Jason lunged forward, untangling the sheets away from the petrified teenager, and grabbing his wrists so he wouldn't hurt himself. "Breathe, Dick!"

Dick's huge, panicked eyes met his as he shook violently. "I-I – he had me and I f-fell-I jumped! I d-died just like them!" he spoke between short gasps of air.

Jason's heart shattered. "Hey, listen to me. Dick, eyes on me! I got you, alright? Look where you are. You're safe in your room at home. Bruce caught you, remember?"

Dick looked around him, breathing rapidly and trembling, but Jason felt relieved to see recognition in his eyes as panic began to seep away. "I…yeah," the teenager said, looking dazed. "I-I think I'm gonna throw up."

Jason released his wrists and seized the waste basket by his bed just as Dick rolled over and began to heave. Nothing remained in his stomach, and Jason rubbed the teen's back as he dry heaved, arms clamped around his ribs.

"S-shit," the teenager wheezed, then cracked open his eyes to glare up at Jason. "Don't t-tell Alfred I said that."

Jason smiled, relieved that Dick was already joking. "You're kidding, right? After the last time, you bet your butt I'm going to tell Alfred about your 'language whilst on the field'."

"I'm not on the field," Dick argued as Jason helped him sit back up with a wince. "I'm –ugh- on my sick bed. That means I get a free pass."

"You can tell that to Alfred," Jason said, propping up the pillows behind him so Dick could sit upright. Dick closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. "You ok?"

"Yeah," Dick said without opening his eyes. "Can I get some water?"

Jason reached over to the dresser, where Alfred had already placed a glass and jug of ice water for when Dick woke up. He quickly poured a glass and handed it to him. "Slow sips at first, ok?" he cautioned.

Dick sipped at the ice water, sighing in relief. "Thanks."

Jason watched as the teenager rubbed his neck with his free hand, wincing. Dick stiffened as his fingers brushed over a bandage beneath his ear.

"The doctors had a hard time removing it," Jason answered the question in Dick's eyes. "It was seared to your skin. Bruce is analyzing it down in the cave to figure out how it was controlling you."

"And who the Collector got it from?" Dick's expression darkened. "He mentioned he had help from a friend."

"Then we'll find him too and put him away for good," Jason said firmly, his jaw tensing. "You won't have to worry about the Collector coming after you again, Dick, I promise."

Dick's eyes suddenly widened slightly before they darted away. "So he's-?"

Jason frowned until the realization of what he had just said hit him.

"Oh. Oh! No Dick, he's not-I mean, I didn't kill him," Jason stumbled over his words, suddenly feeling nervous and unsure of himself. "He's alive and locked up where he can never hurt anyone else."

"Oh. That's-that's good."

Jason sighed. Well, here goes nothing, he thought, praying that Dick didn't see him differently. "Dick, I'm sorry. What you saw back there at the theater—I lost control. When that monster hurt you, when he made you jump, it scared the hell out of me. For a moment, I thought… and I just-"

The words were just tumbling out of his mouth like vomit. Jason wanted to groan and hide his face in his hands.

"Jason, it's okay."

"No, it isn't. I shouldn't have done that, no matter how badly I wanted to, no matter how much that psychopath deserved it and worse. I messed up."

"I'll be honest, Jay, it did scare me, seeing you like that," Dick admitted. "But I get it, really. If he'd done the same to you or, or Wally… I'm not sure how I would have reacted. Mostly I was just worried for you."

Jason laughed without humor. "You shouldn't have had to worry about me, kid. You had enough going on yourself. Look, the point is, I'm sorry, and I'm not going to lose control like that again, ok?"

Dick nodded. "As long as you're ok."

Of course the kid was more worried about his wellbeing than the fact that he almost killed someone.

Dick's eyes suddenly widened. "Wait, there was a girl—"

"She's going to be ok," Jason said quickly, wincing at the bolt of shame that shot through him at the thought of her almost fate. "She's in the hospital; the doctors think she'll be just fine."

"Good," Dick relaxed as much as he could against his pillows. "That's good."

"I thought I told you to come get me as soon as he woke up?"

Jason turned as Bruce entered the room, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. "Er, he did just wake up. Like two seconds ago, right Dick?"

He turned towards the teenager, giving him the "you better just go with it or I'll tell Alfred you cursed and won't feel sorry about it" look. Dick raised an eyebrow, returning with the "do I look stupid to you?" look of his own.

"Yeah, Jason just got me some water before you came in," Dick said, making his voice sound slightly hoarse from sleep.

Jason rose from the chair so Bruce could take his spot, and instead leaned against the dresser. Bruce sat down and placed a hand on Dick's forehead. "Your fever broke. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty crappy," Dick admitted. "Everything hurts."

"We should be able to get some medicine in you soon, but we need to see if you can keep some food down first. Alfred's making you soup right now," Bruce said.

Dick paled slightly at the mention of food. "Did you find anything about the control device yet?"

"I'm still running diagnostics, but I have my suspicions," Bruce replied, his eyes narrowing at the thought.

"Mad Hatter?" Dick guessed.

Bruce's surprise turned into proud approval. "It would fit. The design does seem like Jervis Tetch's influence, but I can't be sure until the computer finishes analyzing it."

"And he did escape from Arkham around the same time the kidnappings started," Dick realized. His face suddenly turned grim. "Did…did you find the others?"

The room felt as if it suddenly dropped ten degrees as flashes of that trophy room flashed in Jason's mind's eye. One glance at Bruce's face told him that the man was thinking about it too.

"We did," Bruce said finally. "They didn't make it."

Dick nodded, his jaw tense. "I figured," he shuddered. "God, all those people. It must have been so horrible for them, not understanding what was going on, being forced to perform for him until they just…"

Bruce gripped his shoulder reassuringly. "I know, Dick. I know. The Collector is finished. He'll be put away for the rest of his life for his crimes, and what happened to you won't happen ever again."

"Pardon the interruption," Alfred cleared his throat as he stood in the doorway, carrying a tray laden with a bowl of soup. "Master Dick, it's wonderful to see you awake. I have prepared some soup for you, if you're up for it."

Dick eyed the soup and turned slightly green, but he nodded. "Thank you, Alfred."

The butler placed the tray on Dick's lap and handed him the spoon. "If you can keep this down, we shall get you some of that pain medication you are so fond of," Alfred said with an affectionate smile.

Dick grinned. "Sounds good to me."

"Very well, I shall leave you to it," Alfred rose and exited the room.

"Hey, Alfred, wait up a moment," Jason called after him and turned back to give Dick a devilish grin and a cheeky wave.

"You wouldn't-!" Dick started, eyes wide with betrayal. Jason saluted him with two of his fingers before disappearing into the hallway after the butler.

"Alfred, you wouldn't believe what I just caught Dick saying."

I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to leave me those absolutely lovely reviews, and I hope you guys enjoyed this story! :) I also just started another one, called Night of the Bat, that will be a much lighter but still action packed story for you guys!