Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. DC Comics does. This is just a fun writing exercise.

Author's Notes: This story is AU, in some places very much so. It deals with a sympathetic Jason Todd. Speaking personally, I've read very little of the stories of Jason Todd before he died but I love what I've seen. I've read eveything I could about him, including information on the web at Daily Scans, Batman Wiki, DC Comics Data Base, and Comic Vine. I think 'A Death in the Family' shows clearly that his death was not his fault or Batman's. Later stories do not do him justice.

Do you know why he was really killed off? It wasn't because he was unpopular. That exscuse is just a editor's saving throw. A character is only as good as a writer chooses to make him and Jim Starlin didn't want to write sidekicks but was forced to. He wanted to get rid of Robin by any means possible. So when he got control of Jason Todd, he chose to write Jason in a sometimes unfavorable manner. Then later there was a publicity stunt where readers could call in and vote whether he lived or died. A difference of sixty five votes all done by an automated computer is said to have decided the cannon Jason Todd's fate. That was the first example of that kind of publicity stunt at DC, and thankfully, the last.

The character Jason Todd presented here in this first chapter is an amalgam of his pre-crisis and post-crisis selves with ideas of my own thrown in the mix. He's good. He's based on the Robin of the 1980's, not the Red Hood or the retcons of the 2000's.

This story is meant to be read on it's own but it is part of a larger universe. Every story in the Electrum is designed to be able to read by itself. If details on other Electrum stuff and my creative processes don't interest you, go ahead and skip the rest of the notes. This is my fourth effort at writing a story in my Electrum Universe. I have a large outline of what I want to do with it but my interests wax and wan so I skip around telling stories in different eras. My first work in this universe, 'Batman Electrum: Memiors of the Bat' has a few problems with it and probably needs to be reworked. My second story, 'Robin Electrum: Bats Cat and Birds' is a short humor piece about the original Robin and the first and second Batgirl, a story that is finished and marked complete. My third story 'Robin Electrum: Rogue Calamity' is a somewhat slow plot, a mix of drama and humor, about a sixteen year old Dick Grayson in Gotham City without Batman; and has only the first chapter loaded, the second is half written and still in progress. The desire to write this story became so strong that I had to drop the other story for a day and write it instead.

Batman Electrum: The Fate Of Jason Todd

Chapter One

Somewhere in Ethiopia- Jason Todd Wayne a.k.a. Robin

He is only one person, a boy, a young man. His willingness to trust those of his blood, his loyalty has doomed him. It has led him towards his death. His own mother has betrayed him. So many times Batman has comes to his to his rescue. So many times Batman has saved him. Jason fears that this time he will not. Batman, Bruce Wayne, the man who is the only real father Jason has ever known though they are not related by blood. Jason sees too late that family is not about blood, not at all. It does not stop him from wishing that his birth mother was all that she had appeared to be.

Jason Todd is on the ground in a warehouse somewhere in northern Africa. No, Jason Wayne, he thinks. But his mind is fragmented. His body aches so much he can not think straight. The pain is the product, the results of the Joker's fists and a crowbar. Tied up to a post a few feet away from him, is the woman, Sheila Heywood, his mother, the one who led him here. Jason does not blame his mother. How can he? She is Mom. How can he hate her? Only one thought passes constantly through his mind. He has to save her.

One of the Joker's thugs, a tall dark muscular mountain of a man comes closer. When the Joker's back is turned, the thug pulls out a needle, a syringe. Inside the syringe there is a strange slivery grey liquid. The thug smirks. An intelligence comes into the thug's eyes that was not seen before. Jason is weak, so tired, in so much pain. He does not feel the needle as presses against his skin. He wonders if he is hallucinating. Then he feels the cold. Where the needle touched his arm, the spot is like ice, an ice that is spreading slowly through his veins.

An image of a woman with long black hair and skin as white as bone, appears in the boy's mind. Her name, Natalia Knight. For only the shortest of times did he know her but she was like a mother to him. She who was called Nocturna.

More faces pass through his mind. Joseph and Katrina Todd, Joe and Trina who adopted him when he was just a baby, who for so long he believed were his parents. In truth they were his uncle and his aunt. For several years he grew up in New York with them. Two actors with less than successful careers. Two parents who loved Jason very much. Joe and Trina Todd who died in an car accident when he was five.

Another set of faces appear, Willis and Catherine Todd who brought him to a slum in Gotham. Who claimed to be his real parents, his birth parents. Only one was speaking the truth when he said this. The other was lying. Catherine who died of a drug overdose, who was more of mother to him then she ever had to be but less than he needed. Willis who was horrible, who met his end, his just reward, at the hands of Two-Face.

The last face running through Jason's mind is Batman's. The memory of how they first met the night when Jason stole the tires off the Batmobile. Batman who he was never scared of. A younger fair-haired Jason who was not afraid to insult the Dark Knight. He was twelve then, a short, starving, malnourished kid, toughened by living a year on the streets after Willis abandoned him.

Jason stares at Sheila, at her hair, the same shade of blond that his would be if he had not died it black. More evidence of their shared blood. He gazes franticly around the warehouse. The heat of a desert wars with the ice of a poison, in Jason's veins. Hot and cold, at once shaking and at the same time sweating. He sits up. He knows he has to do something but what?

The Joker comes towards Jason again with the crowbar in hand. "You still alive Birdie Boy?" the Joker says, in his taunting way. He beats Jason until the point that the boy is ready to pass into unconscious. Passing out would be a mercy. But Jason does not. He merely collapses. He lies there in the greatest of pain. His mind goes nearly blank. It is he thought that he must save his mother which keeps him from slipping away. Is the nothingness of sleep or is it death that tempts him? Whatever it is, Jason knows that he must fight. He stirs. He gets on his knees. The blood, his blood is falling to floor.

"Jason! You're still alive!" his mother shouts. "The bomb, deactivate it!

He sees a bomb on the floor. It is ready to go at any moment.

"Can't…in no shape to handle that," Jason says. Every word is difficult. Every movement is stiff. Yet the pain is lessening. Something is not right. Jason knows he can't think of this. Can't stop to think, has to save his mother. He has to!

"Gotta get you out of here," Jason says, as he stands. He unties his mother's wrists from the post. He falls to the ground. "Mom run!"

Sheila bends down. She grabs Jason's arm. "Come," she says, "Let me help you. We'll get out of here together." She helps him to stand. Together they move to the door. Just as they reach it, just as they get outside, the bomb explodes. The heat is so strong. In the war in Jason's body, the war between the fire and the ice, the fire is now winning. And the darkness welcomes him like a long lost friend calling him home.

Later- Batman's POV-

What price is a life? The life of a boy who was not nearly as innocent as he should have been but was a boy none the less. A boy who was only a few years from being legally a man. A boy who will never reach that milestone now. Batman's heart breaks as he carries his Robin away from the ruined warehouse. The boy's body is battered and bruised. He lies so limp, so still. He was only fifteen. Now he is dead.

"He's dead," Batman says, redundantly stating what he knows to be true. All the weight of world, all the agony seems to be held in those two simple words.

Batman doesn't let himself cry, not until he reaches the Batplane, not until he sits in the cockpit. He sets the plane to autopilot. He cannot steer it. He cannot control anything right now. He removes the cowl revealing the face of Bruce Wayne. The tears finally fall, bitter and long does he cry. His son, his youngest boy is dead. Nothing in all the world can change this.

Many hours later- The Batcave beneath Wayne Manor-Alfred Pennyworth-

Alfred Pennyworth is a proper gentleman's gentleman. He has served the Wayne family for many, many years. He sits in a chair in the Batcave. He waits. He fears the worst.

The plane lands in the cave. Alfred run toward it. He stops as the hatch opens, as Bruce walks out of the plane, his uniform on but the cape and cowl off. He is carrying something. Something is wrapped up in the bluish black cape. Bruce's face is grim. It is a face of deep agony.

"Sir?" Alfred questions. He gasps as Bruce pulls back the cape to reveal the face, the body of Jason, Bruce's adopted son. Alfred has fought in wars. He has served his country as an agent of MI6. He knows a corpse when he sees one. Young master Jason is dead.

Three days later on a cloudy afternoon- The Gotham Cemetery- Bruce Wayne-

That a parent should have to bury his child, what a horror. It is a nightmare, a living one. Bruce keeps thinking that he will wake up. That he will hear Jason laugh, watch him smile as he gets up to some mischief again. Right now he would give anything even to see Jason in a fit anger. Just to see him alive again he feels as if he would do anything. The boy was not his by blood but for three years Bruce loved him. For three years he raised him. Bruce Wayne stands on a hillside. Less than a dozen others stand there. So few were there that truly knew Jason, that loved him. One of those who is conspicuously absent is Bruce's first boy, his foster son, his former ward, Dick Grayson, the first Robin.

Bruce wonders what he did wrong. He ponders the coincidences. So many things odd things that led to Jason's death. The discovery that Catherine Todd was not his biological mother. The three women who might be Jason's mother all being in the Middle East at the same time as the Joker. Bruce wants to blames himself. At times he almost wants to blame Jason but that would be the ultimate fallacy. It doesn't matter who is at fault. The boy is dead. No amount of recriminations will change that. So many coincidences…almost as if it was some dark fate. As if it was meant to be. No, Bruce cannot, he will not believe this.

Jason was such a bright boy, a troubled boy, a loving boy, a boy who wore his heart on his sleeve. When he was happy you knew it. When he was angry you really knew it. He was loyal, oh was he loyal. He was so fierce when it came to injustice or loyalty betrayed.

Bruce sobs. "My son…my boy…Jay…" Alfred put hand on Bruce's shoulder. As the dirt covers the casket, as the dirt covers the boy Bruce had loved as his own, Alfred guides Bruce away. For a moment Bruce feels like the kid he once was, the kid who stood in this cemetery watching his parents be buried. Alfred had been there for him then too. Somehow though this feels worse. A child, his child is gone forever, to never grow up, to never fall in love, to never have a family of his own.

The Batcave-

A new shiny display stands. It shows off a costume, red, yellow and green. It is the costume of the second Robin. The Robin who died too young. There is a large golden looking plaque leaning against the case. On the plaque engraved are the words:

Jason Peter Todd Wayne

A Good Solider, A Beloved Son.

Gone But Never Forgotten.

Night fall- The Gotham Cemetery- Jason Todd Wayne-

Darkness surround him. It covers him like a blanket. There is no feeling. There is only vague thoughts and an increasing awareness. Jason is bewildered and confused. His breaths are shallow and few. Minutes pass between each breath. Jason knows this not normal, not natural. So little else does he know. He barely knows his own name. Three thoughts repeat like a broken record in his brain. Where is Bruce? Where is Batman? Where has the Joker put him?

Jason struggles to move. At first he can't. He can't even feel his own body. Then comes the feeling of ice. He is so cold. Slowly the cold gives way to a fire, different from the one he felt before during the explosion. This fire seems to run through his veins. His body feels if it is burning from the inside out.

Jason realizes he is lying in a small narrow box. The box is lined with cloth. His body becomes charged with adrenaline. He has to get out! He scratches the cloth until he hits wood. His hands go through the wood. His fingers ache. The nails bleed. His hands hit dirt. Then it hits. The truth dawns. Jason Todd Wayne has been buried alive!

Jason digs his way out of the ground. He fights with a strength, an energy he can scarcely believe he has. He hits mud as he climbs. When he gets out of the ground, he finds that he is in a cemetery. The rain is falling, pouring from the sky. Jason is wearing a now muddied suit. There a gravestone with his name on it and a date of death. Jason looks around. He knows this cemetery. This where Bruce comes every month to lay down flowers on the graves of his parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne. Jason can see the familiar distinctive headstones only a few feet away. This is the Wayne family burial plot. Jason screams as he realizes yet another truth. Bruce Wayne, his adoptive father, is the one who buried him alive!

Jason sits there kneeling on the ground beside the gravestone. His gravestone. He reels in shock. He falls backwards lying on the ground. He hears footsteps slap against muddy ground. Someone is speaking. More than one person. He can't understand the words but he recognizes the languages from Bruce's training. It is a mixture of Chinese and Arabic. They come at him all dressed in black, their faces hidden. They grab him. The strength he had is fading. Jason is suddenly weak. He can't fight back. There are many of them. There is only one of him. He is dragged off against his will by two of them.

There is a large black van, no license plates, waiting at the front gate of the cemetery. Jason's arms are tied behind his back. He is thrown into the van. Waiting for him there is a face he knows. An Asian woman with short black hair, she is Lady Shiva. She was of the three woman who he had identified as possibly being his mother. Her name Sandra Wu-san, was one of the names in his biological father's address book. Batman had had to use truth serum to get her to admit that she wasn't Jason's mother.

Jason glares at her. This woman has tried to kill Batman more than once. Jason doesn't want to deal with her. "W-what do you want?" Jason asks hoarsely. His throat is sore. His voice strange to his own ears, as if he hasn't spoken in days.

Lady Shiva smiles. "It is not what I want," she says, "It what my employers want.

"W-who," Jason stutters struggling to speak. "Argh!" he yells out of pure frustration.

"I see the drugs worked well," Shiva says, "The side effects are less than expected."

"D-d-drugs?" Jason asks.

Shiva laughs. "They call them the Resurrection Drugs. Depending on how you look at it, it's either a misnomer or a joke. The drugs are mystical in nature. An alchemical brew much the same way the Lazarus Pits are but otherwise very different."

Nobody drugged Jason. Nobody! He was too week to put up a good fight and his hands were tied behind his back. If this woman could nearly kill Batman he didn't have a chance against her. He asks, "Th-these- d-drugs, what t-th-ey do?"

"There's three of them," Shiva says. "Three potions, three mystically charged chemicals that individually work quite different but when combined produce miraculous results. It puts a body into a stasis that resembles death. You were given the minimum dosage, enough to put you for about seventy-two hours. However the stasis is not all that the drugs do."

Shiva pulls out a knife. She cuts the ropes from Jason's wrists. She then cuts one of the sleeves of his suit. His bare arm is exposed. He expects bruises. There are none. Cuts that he knows happened recently are now faint scars.

"The head, the chief of my employers," Shiva says, "never uses the Resurrection Drugs. Long term use of the drugs can cause brain damage as can a high dosage. The cells of the brain are the one the thing that I have been told the drugs do not restore properly. If you been given enough to keep you out for months you likely be mistaken for autistic, if you were lucky."

"Your e-em-employers…W-ho?" Jason asks.

Lady Shiva smiles a wicked grin. "The League of Assassins of course. Once a member always one. I keep leaving but they keeping pulling me back. I'm too talented to get rid of. You on the hand…I'm not so sure. Why would they go to so much effort for the adopted son of a billionaire?"

Jason's mind grows clear with every passing second. He can hardly believe this. Shiva somehow does not know he's Robin! He's always been good at reading people. It's part of what let him survive on the streets after his second adoptive mother's death. He doesn't believe that Shiva is lying.

Jason does not like the way his thoughts are turning. If everything she said is true then Bruce must think he's dead! Bruce must think that the Joker killed him! Will Batman try to take revenge for a murder that never happened? Jason's eyes go wide. No! He can't! It'll break him. It'll change him.

"I don't know why," Shiva says, "that the League wants to recruit you so much." The League of Assassins. Jason knows something about them. Their leader is Ra's al Ghoul, a creepy, horribly manipulative man, who has lived for centuries. Is Ra's trying to test Batman again? This goes beyond testing. This could destroy him.

Batman always saves Jason. But how can Batman come if he doesn't even know Jason is alive? Bruce will not come for him, not this time. Jason knows this beyond any doubt. Fear grips his heart. What will happen to Bruce Wayne, to Batman without Jason?

The van begins to move. The back of the van has no windows. Jason can't see out into Gotham City. He knows somehow that he will not Gotham again, not for a long time. He fears for the man who is for intents and purposes his father. When Jason see him again, will his father be the same man? Or will revenge for Jason's apparent death change the man beyond recognition?

"N-no!" Jason shouts, "It c-can't happen! It won't!" Jason stand ups. He has to fight back. He has to escape. He has to get back to Bruce! A quick strike from Shiva's fist and he falls down. As Jason passes into the oblivion of unconsciousness, the van rolls on out of Gotham City taking him further and further way from the only family he has left.

If you like this story, please review! Reviews let me know that others like the story and want to read more. Good reviews let me know that I'm doing something right. Constructive Criticism lets me know where I can improve. I love knowing what others think about my stories!