(Using dialogue from the Arkham Knight game's audio logs in this chapter.)

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"Where is he?" Jason snarls, the words distorted and echoed as they filter through his helmet's voice modulator. One of the men Scarecrow had placed alongside the walls of the hallway nods to his right, and Jason stalks towards the indicated door. He had specifically told Scarecrow that Oracle was to be captured and detained, nothing else. But then one of his own men had informed him that Scarecrow was interrogating Oracle alone, and Jason immediately went in search of her detaining room, knowing Scarecrow would be using more than words to try to intimidate the former Batgirl.

As he nears the door, his helmet's microphone is able to pick up words that otherwise would not have been discernable through the thick door sealing off Scarecrow and Oracle. Scarecrow's voice is the first to be heard, his disgusting arrogance only too evident as he speaks.

" – as those fears slowly recede, they'll take this pathetic defiance with them."

Oracle sounds unimpressed by the threat. "You're still talking."

"Very well..."

Jason slams the door open, striding in furiously. "Get the hell away from her!"

Both Scarecrow and Oracle jump at the sudden intrusion, with Scarecrow spinning around and straightening to match Jason's furious gaze. Sparing Oracle a glance to confirm that she is unharmed, Jason wraps a fist in the front of Scarecrow's clothes, pulling him up to meet Jason's masked face.

"Did I not tell you that she was to be unharmed? Did I not say that she was to be left alone until Batman came?" Jason gives Scarecrow a rough shake. "Are your brains so rattled that you do not have the competence to follow such simple orders?"

Scarecrow seems unconcerned by Jason's display of fury. The beginnings of a smile play across his chapped and deformed lips. "I am merely giving our guest here the welcome she deserves. Her defiance earns her the gift I was about to bestow upon her."

"You think too highly of yourself and that toxin," Jason snaps. He swings Scarecrow away from Oracle and shoves him towards the door. "Leave. I will find you when I am done here."

Scarecrow hesitates a moment, the displeasure uncharacteristically clear on his face. But he seems to think better of whatever argument he was planning and casts a sneer at Jason before leaving the room. Jason waits for a moment, then turns to face Oracle…Barbara. She is tied down to her own wheelchair – a fact that makes Jason feel slightly sick – but otherwise looks unharmed. Yet he has to ask anyway.

"He's gone. Did he hurt you?"

Distrust burns in Barbara's eyes. "Spare me the good cop bad cop routine," she says, annoyed exasperation clear in her voice.

Jason allows a hint of a smile to tug at the edge of his lips. It's been years since he's seen her, and she hasn't changed one bit. Nevertheless, he is surprised at her response. "No, no, no, no. See, you're supposed to keep me talking. Play for time, wait for Batman." He can't help the tinge of mockery that slips into the next question. "That's what he taught you, right?"

Barbara's eyes narrow. "I've got nothing to say to you."

Jason lets out a frustrated sigh. She was always so difficult. But he has to make her understand. "See me? I talked for hours. Cause I knew, right? Batman was on his way to save me." He grits his teeth. Though when he speaks next, he sounds much wearier than before. "The bastard just let me talk. Eventually I just…ran out of things to say." Then his thoughts turn back to his target, to his reason for all of this, and the bitter harshness snaps back into his voice. "So trust me – you can't count on Bruce to save you."

Barbara blinks in surprise. "Bruce?"

Jason does smile at that. "Yeah," he says smugly. "Scarecrow doesn't know. It's our little secret. Now here's another: Batman likes to play the hero, Barbara, and he's pretty good at it – but it's an act. Batman's not about saving the innocent, oh no, he's about punishing the guilty." Anger flashes in Barbara's eyes. She opens her mouth to retort, but Jason continues before she can. "Now, don't get me wrong," he adds quickly. "He'll look for you. Or…he'll try. But when it comes down to it, when he has to make a choice between you and the mission?" He gives a short, bitter laugh. "He'll choose the mission. Every. Time."

"You're wrong," Barbara snaps.

Jason can't help himself. He knows he shouldn't, that it could ruin everything. And even though he's trying to hate everything that once was a part of Jason Todd, even though he wants nothing more than to severe ties to the weak person he had been before…he looks into Barbara's eyes and he knows he can never hate her. Batman yes. Batman he hates with every fiber of his scarred and wretched body. But Barbara? No. Seeing her, hearing her familiar voice is a shadow of a comfort that he has not felt in a long time. And he wants to revel in that feeling. The ache is too strong, and so he does it. Lifting a hand to the side of his helmet, he presses the release button. With a low hiss, the front plate of his helmet slides open, revealing his face to Barbara.

"Look me in the eye and say that."

Barbara's eyes widen with shock as she clutches the edges of her wheelchair's armrests, her knuckles turning a stark white. "Jason?" she gasps. It takes her a stunned moment, but she quickly recovers. "Jason, this is wrong!"

Anger burns in Jason at that. How dare she judge him? "This is justice," he snarls. "He left me!"

"He lost you! And he mourned for you." Barbara's eyes brim with sudden tears, taking Jason aback. "Come home." Her eyes are pleading, the desperation in them so strong that Jason has to look away for a moment.

"I can't go back," he whispers. He looks back at her and to his shock feels unwelcome, hot tears prick his own eyes. "You don't know what the Joker did, Barbara." Barbara's eyes flash to Jason's left cheek – to the crude J seared into his skin. Shame washes through Jason, and he fights the urge to close the helmet back over his head. How could she possibly understand? Those weeks, months alone with the Joker…all the torment he was put through. Demented laughter echoes distantly in Jason's head and he clenches his jaw. His voice is shaking when he speaks next, but it's important for Barbara – for someone – to hear this. "He hollowed me out, and he filled me back up with hate…a-and…" But he can't continue. Everything he's tried to keep repressed since he'd been freed from Joker's hell…it all comes crashing back down on him, and he suddenly finds it very hard to breathe in the confining room.

"Jason." Barbara's voice is gentle, soothing. It steadies Jason slightly, but not much. "We can fix it."

That infuriates him. Who is she to say that she can fix him? That she can fix all of the wrongs done to him? She has no idea. "I can fix it!" he shouts. Barbara is startled by the outburst, but now Jason can't stop himself. "I know now what to do," he seethes. "I take all this pain, all this blackness, and I put it all in a bullet…and I put it right between Bruce's eyes."

"Joker's dead, Jason!" Barbara exclaims. "You want revenge on the man who hurt you? You've got one shot. Come back to the manor – let us help you! Don't let Joker win."

For the smallest moment, Jason considers Barbara's words. He had always thought that his revenge was meant for the man who abandoned him. Joker was not the one who abandoned Jason – he was the one who showed Jason how little he meant to Batman. To Bruce. Batman never bothered to look for Jason; he was perfectly content with finding a new replacement as soon as possible. And so a new kid was allowed to live in the manor that he had once called home, allowed to call the man Jason used to look up to father, and allowed to take the place of a boy rotting away in an asylum. Yes, Jason hates the Joker too, but his vengeance? That is meant for Batman.

But the prospect of going back to the manor, of going back to the place he had once seen as a sanctuary, it is almost overwhelming. And the idea of taking vengeance on the Joker, by proving him wrong, and not being a product of his torment…that is almost an unattainable concept. As his thoughts dwell on the manor, one face in particular springs up in his head, and he cannot deny the lonely ache of wanting to see that person again. Ignoring Barbara's impossible request, he instead asks, "…how's Alfred?"

Disappointment clouds Barbara's eyes and her shoulders sag as she realizes his unsaid rejection. "He misses you," she says sadly. She pauses, and the next words are heavy with sincerity. "We all do."

We? Who, Batman? Jason almost laughs at that lie. Dick maybe? Jason fights the urge to scrunch up his nose in distaste at that thought. He's not sure he hates Dick – at least to the extent of Batman – but he has no desire to see him either. Batman's golden boy. Hardly able to hold a flicker of a candle to that insufferable suck-up when he was Robin, Jason can only think of how he would look now in comparison to Dick. He grimaces, but before he can respond, the door opens behind him and Scarecrow's voice interrupts.

"The Cloudburst is charged, Knight. It's time."

Keeping his back to Scarecrow, Jason presses the button on the side of his helmet once again, and the front plate slides back into place. Barbara straightens in her wheelchair, the hurt clear in her eyes. Her gaze is hard and unrelenting as she stares at Jason and he has to turn away. Facing Scarecrow now, he sees that the lunatic is flanked by two guards. Jason smirks at that; is Scarecrow nervous around him? He begins walking towards the door, and though Scarecrow doesn't step aside, his guards do.

"Someone put a gag on her," Jason orders. "Anyone hurts her – they're a dead man." The urge to glance back at Barbara one last time is strong, but he ignores it and strides from the room, leaving his hope in the safest and most unreachable place – with Barbara.