Edit: Shit, I forgot the disclaimers

Disclaimers: I don't own anything related to DC, I only own the plot.

Warnings for: Mentions of Gore, Self-Harm, Body Horror and Language

For twenty-or-so years he had known The Dark Knight – friends actually, even if the other party never admitted it – Clark never knew how disturbingly twisted and psychotic Gotham's villains could become, he never dared claimed to. He never stayed in the hellhole for more than four days for reporting stuff, he was even there to begin with because Luthor was involved – also Lois dragged him –, he lost count on how many times he almost got mugged during his stays – or visits – . Almost is the key word, because nobody suspected to be toppled over by his weight from his supposed 'clumsy' steps or Lois' right hook, it's mostly the latter.

Bruce and Alfred shared an amused look while Jason doubled-over laughing when Clark shared his 'experiences' in Gotham with the three born-and-bred – was Alfred even born here? – Gothamites, back when he'd known Bruce for seven-something years and during Jason's fourth year being Blue Jay.

"My god, true to your roots farm boy." The teen wheezed, a devilish smirk still played on his lips. Bruce's lips quirked up, it disappeared immediately as it appeared and went back reviewing clues for Joker's latest plot, a lot of explosive matter was involved. The kryptonian offered to help, he got turned down instantly. Clark protested, fearing the lives of many innocents and especially his friend if he knew there was a possible bomb involved.

A weary sigh escaped the Dark Caped Crusader, "Clark, we've been over this. Gotham is my territory and the Joker is not someone to be underestimated, one wrong move and it's game over. I can't risk that, Clark."

"Yeah, Supey." Jason chimed in, "'sides, we haven't exactly finished cleanin' leftover kryptonite or Krypton rads from last month, the slums are still flooded with the stuff. No offense, but I doubt you'll be any help around the stuff."

Clark sighed, "none taken, but are you guys sure?"

"And I do recalled you promised Miss Lois a date this evening." The butler shot him a reassuring look. The kryptonian sputtered while Jason let out a bark of laughter.

"I say, you probably don't wanna disappoint her again, do you? That woman have a mean right hook if ya' ask me." The teen scowled at the memory and rubbed his jaw, "take a chill pill will ya'? We've been dealing with the fucker for years, we got this. Don't you trust us?"

Clark wanted to protest again, but he didn't want to risk anymore damage to the hard-worked trust he had built in the Dynamic Duo. He mentally flinched when he saw the look the Dark Knight gave to the teen, trust has been an issue lately between the Duo and it's affecting everyone else around them, the tension around them is a bit hard to ignore. Finally, a defeated sigh escaped the kryptonian's lips, "of course I do, Jason."

He wished he did stay and help, Bruce wouldn't be dark and brooding as much as he is now, Jason would still be sane and a lot less angry – err, angrier – at Bruce, and Tim wouldn't be so paranoid around Jason after the latter tried to kill him because he 'replaced' him, maybe slightly paranoid but that's understandable since Jason do tend to get more aggressive than necessary.

Damian probably would still be here as Batman's partner, and not willingly to attend some school in the freaking Himalayans. Even if Clark knew it was for the best and it is, he couldn't argue his friend's logic after Damian tried and 'succeeded' to kill the Joker, said clown somehow still alive and returned six months later more psychotic than ever, and said clown is currently locked up in Arkham Asylum, the building Clark along with Diana and Bruce are in front of.

"Get out of my territory, Wonder Woman, Superman." The Dark Knight continued his trek towards and in to the asylum, he didn't made any move when Clark and Diana followed him from behind.

"I thought Gotham was you're territory," The kryptonian pointed out, he ignored the glare that was sent to him. After twenty years, he thinks he's pretty immune to it, sometimes. "and technically we're outside of it."

"And don't try to make us leave with those toys your guards have," The amazonian warrior eyed the stun batons the guards held, "it is no wonder villains escaped the facility often."

Clark's lips thinned, "Batman, we're just here to check on how are you-"

"-I'm fine."

"-coping after last month's incident. You know, where you, Red Hood, Batwoman and pretty much everyone else almost died."

"Look, we have made a mistake by ignoring each other for months, so busy with our own lives." Diana added, "that lead to aggressive other terrestrial beings replacing League members one by one and attacked us on our weakened state."

The Cape Crusader suddenly halted in front of a metal doors with heavily armed guards stationed on either sides, giant red warning signs plastered all over it. Clark suspected this is where Arkham's worst were held in, where Joker is.

Batman shot them a brief glance, "You both know I'm not part of the League anymore, not after the Legion of Doom."

"Yet, despite our trust issues, you still came and helped us-"

"-It was necessary for Earth's best interest."

For some unknown reason, Diana's features soften for a moment, "You do not trust us to be in the same side forever yes, but you helped because you care similar how we care of you. Cyborg, Flash, Green Arrow and dozens more of heroes would not be here if you hadn't come, Batman." She suddenly nudged Clark on the side and jerked a chin at the stiff back of the Caped Crusader.

He gave her a look but played along anyway, "Wonder Woman's right, I'm not so sure if you do care-" He trailed off once he caught the look the amazonian gave him, "but I'm seventy-five-ish percent certain you do care, you just have a weird way to express it, like how you show your trust towards us."

Diana gave him an incredulous look before addressing the black-clad vigilante, "Batman, I gave you my trust before, yet you betray that trust by not trusting us and perhaps you still do not trust us now, but I do not want what happened last month happened again to my friends, including you." A small smile graced her lips, "Br-Batman, if my heart needs to endure another betrayal to ensure your safety, then I'm willing to trust you again from now on."

Clark gave her an incredulous look, with lips thinned he decided to gave his friend another chance, "Me too."

For a full minute the two brightly coloured heroes watched the Dark Knight's stiff shoulders slightly loosen, as if a small weight was finally gone. In his gravelly voice, he spoke, "This is a one time only and a check-up, follow closely, do not maintain eye contact more than necessary and do not attempt to engage any conversation with anyone in there." He finally addressed towards the stationed guards, "open the door."

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Immediately after they stepped into the cold corridor, Clark heard the whispers and mutterings of deranged inmates. Each one was different from the other, some wasn't in English. In the end, they all have the same intention to act revenge against Batman and his allies.

"Don't listen to them." Clark broke out from his cold sweat when the Dark Knight spoke, "They could drive you insane."

"R-right." Clark mentally shook his head and proceed to block most of the noise, it wasn't that hard after twenty years of living in a busy city like Metropolis. Despite being twin cities and seated right across each other, the two were complete opposites.

Built from a base of a commercial town back in the 16th century, Metropolis held its name as the brightest city as its future, a city of tomorrow and opportunities as high as its tall buildings, sunlight gleamed at the wide windows and in turn reflected light and shined at every corner of the streets. Night wasn't as much different, bright lights from buildings, streetlights and traffic will always chase away the shadows of the night.

And Gotham was often pictured as Metropolis' bad twin, the darkest as opposed to the brightest city. Instead of a commercial town like Metropolis, Gotham was based on a trading village and existed a century younger and far more corruptible than Metropolis. With open borders and her corrupted society, they welcomed anyone with a promise of riches with open arms. Dealers, gangsters, mobs and every bad fish out there as long as they have what makes the world go around. Gotham isn't like her neighbouring cities such as Blüdhaven or Hub City, both are stuck in their place. Choking, oversaturated by their own corruption, but Gotham changed. She changed like the many-faced monster she is. Gotham became industrial, a factory. She breathed the corrupted air around her, she took every dark dealings she could find, twisting them to create monsters.

Monsters like Scarecrow,-

"Are you afraid now, Batman?" A chuckle muffled slightly by the sack covering the mouth and the thick glass separating between them and the deranged ex-psychiatrist. "Finally bringing your most powerful friends to end us?"

-the Riddler,-

"An auspicious gift or a deadly plot? If you were standing there, right on the spot, would you sense the fall of a great city? I gallop over sin, without pity. Have a try, who am I?"

"The Trojan Horse." The Dark Knight didn't miss a beat, "or perhaps them." Both Clark and Diana narrowed their eyes at the answer.

Edward laughed, "Ah, I see your mind is still sharp as ever. Don't worry, I'll have another game in ready for you to play."

-Zsasz,-

"Here to thank me for my little gift last week?" Carved hands pressed against the glass, a grin plastered on his face. "Did you like what I did to her?"

-and many more.

Clark honestly thought any long term patients from Arkham will never be changed or cured from their twisted acolytes, but ex-patients like Poison Ivy joined Black Canary with Katana to form the Birds of Prey just over two years ago, Clay-Face redeemed himself four months ago and joined Batman's crusade against crimes in Gotham. These proofs were enough to prove him wrong, and Clark suspected Killer Croc was beginning to crack and switch sides. Because usually news on any attack by Killer Croc travelled through Metropolis and so far, a year has passed since the last news on Waylon.

Speak of the devil, Clark saw the crocodile-like man sat silently in the corner of his cell, a thick bulletproof-glass and thicker metal bars separated him from the rest of the world. Yellow, reptilian eyes watched the Trinity silently passed his holding cell. "The kid's upset." Clark's eyebrows shot upwards, he silently gaze Bruce's back with a look and a frown, his mouth opened to seek an explanation from the Dark Knight, Diana already beat him to it.

"Batman, what does the creature mean?" The amazonian narrowed her eyes, "Is this prison holding a-"

"Batman!" A child's voice, barely in their teens, cut Diana from saying any further. The Dark Knight stopped walking and knelt down in front of a cell, decorated with paper drawings and murals strewn all over the walls and floor. A worn-out plush elephant sat on the thin pillow of the bed, a couple stacks of books were placed around the corners of the wall and bed. In the middle was a boy, barely past thirteen or fifteen years, with pale white skin and dark veins ran up from his neck towards his dull yellow eyes. Black bangs was pressed against the glass, greeting the Caped Crusader with a small grin gracing his blue lips. "You came!"

Clark swore he saw the teensiest smirk on Batman's lips, "of course I came, chum." The Dark Knight frowned at the small, black mural on his right. "Dick, didn't I gave you acrylic markers last week?"

'Dick' – From the dozen of nickname for Richard, the boy choose that one particularly, it baffled Clark for a quick moment – frowned and looked down at his bare feet, "It's not fair, B. They took them after tried to poison me."

Batman frowned and pressed a finger towards his comm., "Gordon."

Clark winced when the speaker nearest to the crackled to life, "one of the guards reported Richard stabbed him through the hand with a marker." There was a small pause, "though I do have my suspicion, I'll see what I can do."

Batman lowered his hand, by the reflection of the glass, Clark saw the Dark Knight's mouth tighten, "Dick, you know that wasn't necessary."

Dick hunched his small shoulders and leaned back from his kneeled position, "I-I just-I don't like the way they look at me, it's not fair I'm stuck here."

"I know, I'm sorry, you don't deserve any of this."

"And so does Waylon." The boy mumbled but Clark heard it quite clearly, the child suddenly grinned and grabbed a sheet of paper from the bed, he then pressed it against the glass, showing the other side of the cell of the drawing. "Hey, B. Look what I made!"

It was a decently drawn black figure standing on top of a roof, besides it is a smaller figure coloured in red, black and yellow and a crudely 'Batman and Robin' writing with another large figure – it reminded Clark of Killer Croc, the small writing of 'Also Waylon' proved his theory – rested below the picture. Clark guessed the black figure was Batman, but who was the smaller and the was supposed to be, the kid?

"The nice lady said I'm getting better and she said I can get out in three months! Isn't that great, B? And if Waylon's also getting better, we can fight crime like you! We need to change the 'Killer' part from his name first, though. Croc-Man? Crocco? How about just Croc? Wait does he even need one?" He mumbled incoherently in between before continuing his ramble, Batman didn't seem to mind, in fact he seems to enjoy it, "-and I'll be Robin, your partner. If you want to, I'm not-I'm not replacing Black Bat or anything, where is he anyway?"

Batman's lips thinned, "He's occupied somewhere." He then pointed a finger at the smaller figure on the drawing, "Why the bright colours?"

"Because, I look good in bright colours, by the way, who's your friends?" The boy titled his head towards the brightly coloured pair, seizing them up and down with critical eye. He scrunched up his nose, "no offense, but you guys look way out of place."

"None taken," Hypocrite, "Wait, you don't recognized us?" Clark gave a look towards the rising Caped Crusader, he ignored it.

"You do look familiar," Dick's eyebrows bunched up together, "memories before being 'blooded' 's a bit fuzzy. So, your superheroes right, like Batman? What's your alias and do you have a territory? Are you guys aliens? Batman, your friends with aliens!"

"We're just-"

"Yes, we're friends." Clark ignored the glare that was sent to him. "As for your first question; I'm Superman, protector a city called Metropolis and kryptonian."

"And I am Princess Diana of Themyscira and amazonian warrior, I am known by the world by Wonder Woman."

"Hi! I'm Dick Grayson and soon-to-be Robin, Batman's possibly-maybe-partner. It's a pleasure to meet you guys."

"Likewise."

"Superman, Wonder Woman, we should get going." The gravelly voice of the Dark Knight rebounded throughout the corridor.

"Oh, right. Sorry to waste your time." Dick gave them an apologetic smile, "you guys should go ahead and continue the check-up, don't want to waste anymore of your time."

To Clark, Batman gazed at the boy funnily, "I promise I'll be back."

"Sure! I'll be waiting, I have an eternity to spend anyway."

Clark hesitated to leave the boy, wanting to ask more questions why the hell is he here in the first place. He decided, he could ask Bruce about it, somewhere more private. After a pregnant pause, he left the boy to his own thoughts.

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The boy was one Richard John Grayson, trained acrobat – and secretly, assassin – since the day he could walk. A former member of the Flying Graysons along with his parents; Mary and John Grayson, and a part of Haly's International Traveling Circus. Fourteen years ago, the circus came to Gotham for three nights as an annual tradition. Unfortunately, on the night of their first performance, Tony Zucco; a notorious mob boss, sabotaged the ropes and ended the lives of the two senior members of the Flying Grayson, leaving their nine-year-old son. Richard disappeared shortly after crying over his parents broken bodies, and never to be found again.

Until five years later from that day, an attempt was made on Bruce Wayne's thirteen-year-old ward, Jason Todd-Wayne, and failed.

Bruce immediately went to work the second he realized the face of the assassin, he eventually gave up after six months of searching and both Alfred and Jason's plead to stop. And then Jason died and revived, Tim lost his family and gained another, Damian lost his mother and gained a father-uh, sort of, at least he's trying.

Two years ago, the Night of The Owls came and hundreds of assassins–Talons attacked the city.

Many lives was lost but many more was saved because of a boy with a surprisingly unnerving good heart from one of the Talons attacking the city.

And six months after that, the Court – now known as the Parliament – of Owls was exposed by the Team along with Red Robin, Red Hood, Orphan and Batgirl. They couldn't have done it without the help of a boy.

A boy who was gave up on by his supposed surrogate-grandfather for a licence

A boy who was tortured and trained to be a weapon by power-hungry people.

A boy who endangered himself and betrayed his kind – his only home – to save lives

A boy who is now unfairly resides in Arkham's Asylum for The Criminally Insane.

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"You had no choice, you had to do it."

"I put a child in an asylum, Arkham Asylum, Diana." Bruce grounded out.

Clark raised an eyebrow at Bruce's unnaturally aggressive behavior– who still donned the suit, but the cowl was down. "Uh, I get that you have a soft spot for children"- a glare was sent his way-"but fourteen years ago, you sure? He doesn't look like he aged a second over fifteen."

"I'm sure," He growled, "the Owls. . . Done something to him during his time with them, 'blooded' Dick called it. I found large amounts of electrum in all of the Talons blood, I suspected this is what caused them to be have regenerative ability." He then added, slowly "and how they could still be able to be partly sentiment while they're already dead."

Unconsciously, Diana covered her mouth in silent horror, "They're dead?"

"Technically, yes."

"B-but," Clark stammered, "There were hundreds like Richard, isn't there a cure to their condition?"

A grim frown, "I don't know."

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Batman failed to save Richard Grayson that night, the Court killed the nine-year-old boy to create a monster, Talon.

But from the remains of Richard rose Robin, the Boy Wonder.

A hero and a bringer of hope to the world,

A member of Justice League's Special Ops Team along with other heroes' partner,

And keeper to the key that held Talon in a cage,

Because monsters can't kill another without becoming one.

And Dick didn't want anyone to be a monster because of him.

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Maybe Black Bat will kill me, Dick thinks as he silently flipped the next page of his newly received book. Batman's former partner 'killed' the Mister J right? Dick didn't think that counted because the clown is still singing that horrible song with his horrible voice two corridors away. Ugh, another hour or he'll have to destroy his eardrums before the singing does.

(Or he could just get out of here and cut the vocal chord instead. It'll be a pain to escape here though, easy but a pain.)

Dick rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, he remembered he hadn't had a rest since two weeks ago. The excitement of getting the hell out of here probably fuelled his body for the past few days, he placed a bookmark on the page he left it and shot a second questioning look at the name scribbled neatly on the first page.

'Slade Wilson' it wrote, maybe it was the name of the man who dropped him the book two nights ago, Dick wondered. It somehow sounded right – and a bit familiar – to him, like the man was really born and bred to be a Slade Wilson. That sounded so weird, maybe being sane isn't as normal as he thought it would be, maybe his standard of normal is too high for this world or him, maybe. He's saying a lot of maybe nowadays, wonder if that is a sign of him getting better or worse, he should ask the doctor.

But, sleep comes first. Dick placed the book on the top of a stack right besides his bed and tucked his blanket up his chin, his face facing the glass. His eyes unconsciously drifted towards the small box of markers at the corner of his cell, he smiled. He liked Batman, he was really kind – despite what everyone is saying – and kept his promises. A childish part of him wished Batman had saved him on the night he was taken to the Labyrinth, he wouldn't be here and will probably sleep somewhere safe and warm, with a nice adoptive family.

(He hoped they'll be nice, if they aren't he can always kill them. Wait, you're not supposed to kill anyone anymore. Killing's bad and evil, it's not justice. But Pop Haly and Zucco deserved it, they let all of those lives die-)

But, it's okay, he supposed. If Batman did saved him, he wouldn't have met all of those amazing heroes – and antihero, Red Hood would be mad if he forgot about him – in person and fought besides them, he wouldn't had the chance to fight hoards of Elite Talons besides the Batman and won, he wouldn't have met and actually talked to Batman.

Dick treasured those memories with all of his heart, even if those memories didn't outweigh the bad ones – his parents broken bodies, the Labyrinth, his eyes, his insides, his lungs, his heart being forcefully ripped out and growanother – he thinks he's okay with it.

(Is he? Maybe, probably, but maybe more good ones will come.)

It's a bit shit, but it's alright. It's okay, he's okay.

"I'm okay."