He Saves Everyone Else | By : Amos Category: +A through F > Batman: Arkham City Views: 976 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Rocksteady Studios and Warner Bros own Batman: Arkham City and the characters, I make no money. |
The Joker, some lunatic with no past and lacking any sense of maturity or responsibility, shouldn’t have managed to get Jason alone like this. Cut off from the world, hidden away from any sort of rescue aside from Batman, who hadn’t appeared yet, either. That was okay. It was okay. He was looking for him. Bruce was probably looking day after day, breaking bone after bone, trying to find him.
It’s okay. He can wait a little longer for the rescue. Because Bruce was looking for him. He had to be.
A cold splash of water slapped Jason in his beaten and bruised face and the teenager gasped loudly, bringing his head up from hanging limply, dizzily. He had the urge to take in a deeper breath, to get some much needed air into his lungs, but hanging by his wrists to the ceiling, hours on end, made it impossible to get too much air in. His lungs felt constricted, tight, and it agitated him.
“Wakey wakey!” Joker cracked, twisting his body to peer cautiously into Jason’s eyes, the teen pulling his head to the side to avoid any type of shared gaze. He breathed quickly, harshly, breathing like he were stuck in a box and running out of air. He couldn’t get enough air. “Now now now, Jason, didn’t you ever learn to look people in the eyes when they’re talking to you?” the clown prince jeered, a wide smile plastered onto his face, teeth stained yellow and something on his breath that Jason couldn’t even smell because of the natural reek of the room that he had been confined in. The smell of old blood, and mold.
The teen kept his head turned, his right eye facing the Joker swollen shut with dried blood in his eyelashes- some previous abuse that Jason couldn’t even recall what had done it. The days were starting to blur together. The boy shut his other eye and pressed his lips together tightly, resting his head against his upper arm, breathing through his nose.
He needed Batman to save him. He needed to go home. He wanted to go home.
A tight grip found Jason’s face, fingers digging into his cheeks enough to hurt, the teenager’s eyebrows furrowing in discomfort. His head was pulled forward again, but he didn’t open his eyes.
“Look at me,” Joker spoke, in an odd, low voice. Jason didn’t. He was trying to focus himself- calm himself down. Old tears stained his cheeks, trails running through blood that coated his bruised up face from his swollen eyeball and a slice in his eyebrow. The water didn’t do anything to clean him. His wounds felt dirty, filthy. There was a chunk of flesh gone from his scalp from where the Joker had cracked his head against the side of a table before.
The table wasn’t here now. He didn’t even know where “here” was. He was delusional.
“Look at me!”
A voice so frightening that Jason opened his eyes, to figure out just who had yelled at him, but the only person there was Joker, with a bright, never fading grin. And then, not even a second after Joker let go of Jason’s face, the teen flinched at a sudden burst of pressure and then heat, just above his exposed armpit. He brought his wide, tired, eye to look at Joker’s hand and saw a pair of what looked like wire cutters. The joker brought them down to Jason’s ribs and snipped at his flesh, forming a hole in the red suit that gaped open with the tension of being stretched by his hanging arms, and exposing a snippet in his skin that poured blood immediately. It was a sting enough to make Jason cry out in pain, but that wasn’t it. Joker kept snipping at his body; his arms, his thighs, his chest, torso- snipping and snipping like he was cutting hair, snipping and snipping tot he point that Jason’s tired, overexerted body mustered any strength to squirm away while hanging from the ropes.
It was an agitating pain- an annoying pain that didn’t get any worse or better- he just wanted it to stop so that he could have a break, a rest. It was just a repeating feeling that took him over, and he couldn’t get away. Like an ant bite that wouldn’t stop itching, all over his body.
“Please, stop it!” he cried, gripping the ropes with his cold fingers from a loss of circulation to his appendages, trying to gain a distance away from the freak in clown makeup, but the Joker just stepped closer, cackling while he pinched open any spot on Jason’s body that he chose. “Stop it,” Batman will come, “Please,” He’s looking for me, he’s looking for me, “Help me!”
Joker clipped right into Jason’s collarbone and the teenager cried out loudly in anguish, thrashing what little he could in his confinement, his body burning and stinging everywhere in an intense, persistent pain. He hated how the Joker could make him cry. He hated that there was this part of him. The teen sobbed, his legs giving in and slumping him towards the floor, strengthening the numbness in his hands and fingers. Joker brought the clippers up to Jason’s face and clipped his cheekbone, cracking up wildly when Jason shook his head in frustration at the pain, screaming and crying from the pit of his gut.
“Screw you,” the teen whispered, his gaze hazy and his head spinning. Joker cupped a hand around his ear and moved his face close to Jason’s, peering at him with his green eyes.
“Hmm, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the crying.” Joker had a bullying tease in his voice, something that made Jason humiliated. He was. Joker had been able to make him cry. Scream and beg. He hadn’t done anything this weak since he was a child, when one of his mom’s boyfriends roughed her up too much. Jason grin his teeth, pain traveling throughout his cheek from the flesh cut in his face and some bruising that had probably taken place in his jaw from beatings.
“I said fuck you!” the teenager screamed into Joker’s face, “Fuck you!”
Joker cackled, rocking back on his heels. “Fuck me? Well, Jason, I’d be obliged! Only, if you weren’t so filthy and annoying.”
It happened quicker than Jason could see, but the Joker had brought the clippers up and suddenly snapped open Jason’s bottom lip, severing the flesh and causing an out-pour of blood. Jason screamed at the pain and threw his head back, trying to rip his hands from their binds so that he could cover his mouth and ease the pain, but he couldn’t, and blood flowed freely down his chin to his neck.
“Do you want humiliation, Jason?” Joker asked like he could read Jason’s mind, his words almost drowning out from the teen’s agitated screams of frustration, trying once more to free himself.
After a bout of screaming and yelling, Jason’s head lolled against his arm, the teen panting and trying desperately to take a deep breath through his constricted chest. Joker had left some time during his outburst, because Jason was alone. The teen dipped his head down so that the blood from his mouth could drip out, because it tasted bitter and metallic.
Joker had done this before. He had left Jason beaten and worn out to sleep in this room, not to come back until the next day. Virtually, a break from all of this torture. A break to hope and pray. No, not pray. God didn’t save people, Batman did. He would find him.
Hang in there.
As soon as Jason let his eyes flutter shut to rest, the door to the room opened, and not just one set of footprints came in, but… many. Jason lifted his tired head up just slightly to see who had entered, but it wasn’t Batman with an army of police officers and Gordon. It was Joker, with groups of his men and thugs- some faces he recognized. He let his head fall again, but Joker walked over and grabbed his chin, picking it back up. Jason looked at him with a heavily lidded eye.
“Oh now Jason, what’s the matter? You can’t sleep yet, it’s only noon!”
Jason couldn’t speak for a long time, the pain of his completely split lip unbearable. When he did speak, it was soft and slurred, and blood and saliva dripped from his mouth. “Jus’ lemme go home...”
Joker’s grin widened and he brought his purple gloved thumb from Jason’s chin to press against his bottom lip, brushing it over the split and causing more blood to leak out, making Jason shiver and tremble in pain with a shaky inhale of breath. “No, no, Jason, this is home. Don’t you feel a sense of freedom? Not having the big bad bat watching you over his shoulder all of the time?”
Jason closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek, his mouth quivering as he held back to sense to cry. “K-kill me…,” he whispered, “Please.”
Batman would burst in any minute, through a window, or from the ceiling. Only, this room was a purely cement box. There were no windows, or ceiling beams. So, Batman would come in through the door. Bust it open and take everybody down, and then bring Jason home for Alfred to fix up.
“Not today, dear boy,” Joker spoke, with a pat against Jason’s cheek. “Today is,” the clown let go of Jason’s face and turned to his group of goons, bringing his arms up into the air with enthusiasm, “Humiliation day~!” And then, like it was planned, he grabbed Jason’s pants and pulled them down, the material falling to his ankles because of his weight loss. That, made Jason open his eyes again, wide. His heart started picking up like a horror movie, and the teen twisted his sore body to try and hide himself, but he was surrounded by people of whom either he or Batman had broken the bones of before. Joker’s hand found Jason’s ass and he slapped the bare cheek before crackling up into a giant laugh, followed by his men’s laughter, too.
Jason flinched away at the burning sensation. “Please, don’t,” he said quickly, fearfully. There were so many things that the Joker could do. He should have listened to Batman. He just hadn’t… known.
“Bring in the paddle, boys!” Joker jeered, and someone from the back brought him over a wooden paddle. It was the blood stains on it that Jason noticed.
“Stop it-” A strong hit to the head with the paddle cut off Jason’s pleaded scream, rocking his head and blurring his vision, making his body slump weakly again as he lost all sense of… sense. There was a ringing in his ear, though he could hear distant, echoing laughs. Joker spanked him on the ass with the paddle a few times, but none were soft. Each sent a wave of burning pain through his lower back to the point that his ass felt numb and tingly, but it was the hits after that point that hurt even worse than the first. Like being snipped. It was a repeated, painful sensation that stayed in one continuous spot. Jason had heard once about a thing called water drip torture, that made people go crazy because of the continuous drop. What if that’s why Joker went crazy.
Jason was completely delusional. Thoughts came and went with every spark of new abuse, random thoughts like when you couldn’t sleep at night, things that didn’t really make sense.
His butt was too numb for him to feel it, but his cheeks were being pulled apart, opened up so that whoever was there could look at his hole. Somehow, he had enough sense to twist out of their grip, in his spinning head. It earned him another hit in the head with the paddle, and this one almost knocked him out.
His ass was pulled open again and something pressed against his hole, but that was it. Jason’s head was so out of it that when someone said, “I don’t think this is gonna fit”, it sounded like a distant echo from over a cliff. His head rung. He got the idea that they were trying to force something inside of him, but it wasn’t a cock, because even though rape was humiliating, it wasn’t humiliating enough.
Someone forced their fingers inside Jason’s hole and started working it open, so that they could fit whatever they were trying to, inside.
It was in soon enough, and the Joker was fucking him with some object while making everybody in the room laugh. Jason didn’t care about what it was. His care went to the laughter. Everyone was laughing. Laughing at his abused, tortured, crying state, that he had gotten himself into.
After raping him with the object, everyone got their turn to beat him up and mock him- humiliate him further. Someone got up into his face and started saying such vulgar things that Jason managed to spit blood in his face, but then the giant shock of an electric baton traveled through him and he screamed.
“So Jason, who do you hate?” Joker asked Jason, the teenager sitting in a chair, dazed and emotionless, dead inside.
“Batman.”
“Why do you hate him?”
He saved everyone but me.
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