Only one review? Aw…

Well, new chapter. Did I mention this was BirdFlash? And slight Dick/Joker.

Read on~

He remembered the days following his changing. His teeth sharpened, his skin paled, and his bubbly personality disappeared, replaced by a bitter and sadistic new one. He remembered trying to resist it, his eyes momentarily flashing frightened blue when he concentrated hard enough. But it wasn't worth the pain.

It wasn't worth the knife sliding into his stomach by the Joker.

It wasn't worth it writhing around in agony, not being able to scream until he subconsciously healed himself.

It wasn't worth the tears or self-pity.

Even worse, he remembered walking down the stairs, red eyes wide in horror when they fell upon Tim's body laying in a pool of blood. The death had clearly been far from painless, but what Tim did to the Joker, he didn't know.

Worse than even that was waiting for Bruce to come home, to discover his youngest son's cold, unmoving body. He remembered feeling tears stream down his own face as he silently crept up behind his father and stabbed him through the heart.

The Joker had laughed then, a gentle sound, much different from his usual maniacal cackle. He remembered the words being whispered into his ear.

"One day, my Dickie Bird, you will turn 18. And then you will never age. You and I will become a team, weeding out the weaker ones, forever."

He remembered the lessons he was taught the following week. He was never supposed to show mercy to his opponent. He learned how to suck the energy out of those with strong wills, and to kill anyone weak who got in his way. He learned the Joker's ways of fighting, stealthily and steadily. He soon was an expert on fighting, but not as good as the Joker. No one was as good as the Joker.

He remembered the Joker telling him about the poison that made him immortal and invincible.

"My dear friend Ivy once told me that a special poison ivy plant blossomed beautifully in the harshest of winters, but only every 187 years. She told me that if I were to mix gunpowder, the minced plant, and a half a cup of blood, it would concoct into a potion. That potion, she told me, would make me greater than God."

He remembered a wide smile stretch across the Joker's face, and feeling jealously pool in his stomach. He was jealous of this 'dear friend Ivy,' and the Joker could sense it too, with his sharp green eyes. The madman had simply laughed.

After that, nothing. Blackness. All other memories that the Joker had thought useless had vanished—gone, forever. He could only remember the negative things about his best friend Wally, and little about anyone else. He sensed that Wally had been a little more than a friend to him, at least, and the Joker had sensed it.

He remembered almost laughing at the thought—the Joker, jealous of a 14-year old bigmouth!

He remembered crying in front of a mirror, his eyes puffy, his mouth pulled into a frown, and the Joker coming up behind him and digging sharp nails into his shoulder.

"Never show your weaknesses." Was all the madman said in a soft, dangerous voice.

And he had nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he touched his red eyes, wishing he was dead like Tim.

The Joker had complete control over him. He couldn't run, couldn't hide, couldn't die. He had to learn to live with the Joker; had to learn to endure excruciating pain when he screwed up, and little smiles when he earned it.

Most of all, he learned how to forget pain. In doing this, he lost himself even more than he already had. He was just another wandering pawn in the Joker's cruel game.

Five years, two months, and three days later.

Dick Grayson smiled coldly at his reflection in the mirror.

His crimson eyes gleamed with malice.

If he bent his head, his spiky black hair resembled an arrow point.

His skin was even paler than before, but perfectly smooth. Not one scar or mark marred the soft flesh.

He was invincible. He was perfect. No one could defeat him.

Five years, two months, and four days later.

Today was the day.

The day that the Joker had designated for sucking the energy out of Wally. He instructed Dick very carefully on how to do it, making sure to leave no evidence behind.

Currently, the ebony was seated in Wally's flat, trying to summon all the energy in his palm already so it would be quick and painless. Sure, his best friend was very annoying, and he wasn't supposed to show mercy. But Dick had to admit he had a soft spot for Wally. He stared at him, drinking in all his features: the freckles by his chin, the slight curve of his lips, his beaming emerald eyes.

But right now, Wally West was being a pain in the ass.

"Rob, just one more game? Please?" Wally whined, his voice annoying and loud.

Dick's eye twitched dangerously behind his shades, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to say in a reluctant tone, "One more, and then we're done."

The ginger grinned happily and jumped up to change the game back to Halo. Even though Wally was 19, he still acted like a child half the time. The ebony felt anger boiling inside of him as Wally elbowed him sharply.

"Pay attention!" he laughed, his slender fingers hitting the buttons faster than Dick could.

"I am." He snapped, smacking the controller as hard as he could. It shot out a few sparks before the light slowly faded.

"Rob, what the hell?" Dick looked up to see his friend frowning, taking the broken controller carefully from him. Wally looked stunned as he popped open the back of it and steam billowed out at his face.

"Sorry. Having a bad day. Memories, you know…" Dick made his voice soft and bitter. He was practiced in mimicking emotion and pain. He was an expert.

"Oh. I'm sorry bro," the ginger answered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He hesitated before pulling the ebony into a crushing hug. Dick blinked, surprised at the kind gesture. If he wasn't mistaken, he could feel something in the pit of his stomach. It felt almost like—no, it couldn't be—warmth.

He jerked away from the embrace, his face hardening. He had to do it now. He raised his hand, relishing the expression of fear on Wally's face. He could already imagine feeling the teen crumble under his hand, and adrenaline filled his veins.

But the ginger jumped up, and as Dick lunged for him, darting up the stairs.

"Dammit Wally! You're making this harder on yourself." He hissed, touching his shades. They crumbled to ash. His teeth sharpened to perfect points, and he stomped up the stairs angrily.

"Artemis, you gotta get here now. Dick's some—some monster and he's going to kill me. Arty? Arty!" Wally's panicked voice floated down the hall, and a cruel smile flashed across the ebony's face.

"Oh, Walls, where are you?" he sang out, loving the sounds of the ginger's ragged breath. He started towards the bathroom, knowing he was in there. The door was tightly locked, but with one touch, the door crumbled to ash.

Wally screamed in terror, stepping back until his back pressed painfully against the stone counters. His green eyes were shiny with tears and his face resembled a glass of milk it was so pale. Dick chuckled under his breath, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth as he stalked towards the fearful teen.

"Don't do this. Please, Dick. You're my best friend. Why are—are you doing this?" Wally whispered, his voice trembling. The pure sincerity in the question made Dick hesitate, and he wondered if he really should suck the energy out of his friend. Maybe he could be a help to the Joker.

Wally sensed the ebony's hesitation and said slowly, "You don't wanna do this, Dick. Please…"

Dick willed the energy to crawl back into his heart. His hand shot out and grasped Wally's wrist tightly. He screamed, but relaxed, breathing heavily, when he realized he wasn't turning to ash. He turned his questioning gaze onto Dick, who was frowning, deep in thought.

"There's only one way the Joker will let you live." He sighed, but the ginger was more focused on the name rather than the words.

"The Joker? but—but—he died over a hundred years ago. He's a famous killer, but are you talking about—"

Dick raised his other hand to cut Wally off, who immediately fell silent, mouth quivering slightly. Dick tilted his head to the side, a small smirk forming on his face. The ginger gulped, knowing that wasn't a good sign.

"There's only one way you can survive." Dick repeated, and Wally didn't know if he dared to ask, or if he even wanted to know.

"You have to be my lover."

"What?!" Wally's jaw dropped and his cheeks colored. The ebony, expecting this reaction, gave the ginger about 10 seconds to recover then asked evenly, "Well? Will you pretend at least? Or die?"

"Not die, not die!" Wally said frantically, biting his lip. In truth, being with Dick wasn't a bad thought. In fact, it was almost desirable, if Wally went that far.

Without warning, Dick leaned in and crushed his pale lips to Wally's chapped ones.

Hehe. Review maybe?

~samx