Y/N's POV

I woke up with my head pounding like a drum solo gone horribly wrong. My eyelids fluttered open to the sight of chipped paint and moldy walls—charming. The air reeked of mildew, rust, and something worse I didn't even want to identify. 

My arms ached as I pulled at the restraints digging into my wrists. Barbed wire. Fantastic. I was strapped to a chair in what looked like some abandoned cell, and by the look of things, I hadn't gone far. The walls practically screamed Arkham Asylum.

I groaned, shifting slightly in the chair, my head still spinning from the crowbar "love tap." That's when I noticed—no utility belt, no staff, no hidden gadgets. Great. Just great. But hey, they were nice enough to leave my mask on. Small mercies, right?

And then, like clockwork, I heard it.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

His voice oozed with that unnerving cheerfulness, bouncing off the walls like some deranged echo. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway—him, the Clown Prince of Crime himself.

 Joker sauntered in with that familiar gait, the kind of strut you'd expect from someone who just pulled off the heist of the century. His face was plastered with that grotesque grin, as if my predicament was the punchline to his private joke.

I didn't say anything. Partly because my head was still ringing, and partly because, well... it's the Joker. Sometimes, you're better off not giving him the satisfaction.

"A little birdie told me you were dying to have a chat, so here I am!" he said, spreading his arms theatrically. "Although..." He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "You don't look too chatty right now, Robin. Or should I say..."

And then he said it.

"Y/N Grayson."

The room froze, and so did I. For a moment, my breath caught in my throat. I could feel my pulse quicken as his words sank in.

How did they—? Oh no. If he knows my name... if he knows my identity...

Bruce.

I clenched my fists as panic bubbled up inside me. If they figured out I'm Bruce Wayne's adopted son, it wouldn't take much for them to put two and two together. Joker knowing Batman's identity? Game over. Gotham would burn.

But then he did something unexpected—he giggled.

"Oh, don't worry, kiddo," Joker said, twirling a crowbar lazily in his hand. "Your little secret is safe with Uncle J! For now. You know, it's almost funny. Bruce Wayne adopts a cute little circus brat, and he grows up to be the Boy Wonder? I mean, come on! You couldn't write this stuff!"

I blinked. Wait. Does he seriously not realize?

He kept laughing, muttering to himself about how hilarious it was that Bruce Wayne's kid moonlights as a vigilante.

Oh, thank God, I thought. For once, his madness worked in my favor. Joker was too wrapped up in his own delusions to see the bigger picture.

But that relief didn't last long. Joker suddenly leaned in close, his green eyes practically glowing with glee.

"But don't worry about the whole 'identity crisis' thing right now. Nope! I've got something much more fun planned for you."

He straightened up, tapping the crowbar against his palm. "We're going to play a little game, you and me. And I promise, by the time we're done, you'll be wishing for that headache back."

Just as I opened my mouth to get a word in, WHACK!

The cold, unforgiving steel of the crowbar smashed against my cheek, sending a white-hot jolt of pain radiating through my skull. I gritted my teeth, tasting copper as blood pooled in my mouth. I spat it out onto the grimy floor, leaving a crimson stain that felt oddly poetic.

Joker tilted his head back and laughed—loud, shrill, and completely unhinged. The sound echoed in the small room, making it feel like I was trapped in a funhouse from hell.

"Oh, I missed this! You little birdies always make the best chew toys," he said, twirling the crowbar like it was some kind of prize. Then he leaned in, his grin stretching impossibly wide. "Now, tell ol' Uncle J... What were you doing snooping around my warehouse?"

I blinked, swallowing the sting in my cheek. My head was still ringing, but I managed to force a smirk.

"Batman's out of town. I got bored. Thought I'd stop by, see how the other half lives."

WHACK!

The crowbar slammed into the side of my head, and I barely managed to stifle a groan. The world blurred for a moment as stars danced in my vision. I swayed in the chair, only held upright by the barbed wires cutting into my wrists.

Joker crouched down to my level, his face now mere inches from mine. His breath smelled like gunpowder and madness, and his eyes glinted with a dangerous curiosity.

"Come on, birdie. That's the best you've got? I know you're not just here for a playdate." He reached out, tapping the edge of the crowbar against my temple. "Let's try this again, shall we? Why are you back in Gotham? Shouldn't you be off playing Teen Titans Go in Jump City?"

I huffed, spitting out another mouthful of blood. The left side of my face was already throbbing, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

"What can I say? The nightlife in Gotham's unbeatable. You know, crazy clowns, killer plants... really livens things up," I quipped, flashing him a crooked grin.

That earned me a third WHACK! This one was worse. The blow caught me on the same side of my head as before, and I felt the warm trickle of blood dripping down my temple. My vision blurred again, and for a second, I thought I might pass out.

Joker let out another maniacal cackle, standing upright and spinning the crowbar like it was a trophy bat after a home run. "Oh, you're just a barrel of laughs, aren't you? But don't worry, birdie," he said, tapping the weapon against his shoulder. "I've got all night to get to the punchline."

 clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay conscious. My head felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, but I wasn't about to let him win. Not like this.

Stay calm, Y/N. Stay calm.

 . . .

. . .

. . .

The room still spun as I tried to focus, my head throbbing in rhythm with the ache in my bruised eye. Blood crusted along my temple, the metallic taste fresh on my tongue. Across from me, Joker lounged in a chair he'd dragged over, sipping from a juice box like we were on some twisted picnic.

Seriously? Apple juice? I'm chained up in barbed wire, and this lunatic's rehydrating like he just ran a marathon.

I took a slow breath, fighting through the pain. This was my chance to get something—anything—out of him while he was distracted.

"Alright, my turn," I rasped, my voice hoarse but sharp enough to cut through his slurping. Joker's green eyes flicked to me, his grin widening as if I'd just told the funniest joke in the world.

"Ooooh, the birdie wants to ask questions now? Isn't that just precious!" He slurped again, obnoxiously loud, the straw making that awful empty-cup noise.

I ignored the taunt, glaring at him. "What's Project Saber?"

The room grew still for a moment, the air heavy with something unspoken. Then, as if on cue, Joker burst into a fit of wild laughter, the sound bouncing off the grimy walls.

"Oh, you are just the cutest little thing, aren't you? 'What's Project Saber?' he asks, like I'm gonna ruin the whole surprise! Come on, birdie, where's the fun in that?!"

I clenched my jaw, refusing to rise to his bait. "Then at least tell me how you knew I was above your office. You knew I was there the whole time. How?"

He grinned wider—if that was even possible—his shoulders shaking with silent amusement before he finally spoke. "How, he asks! Oh, it's even funnier because I didn't know! Just a lucky little guess!" He leaned forward, pointing the juice box straw at me like it was a dagger. 

"Figured ol' Batsy might finally grow a sense of humor and join the party. But then you showed up instead!" He laughed harder, slapping his knee. "Robin, the Boy Blunder, waltzing right into my hands. It's like Christmas came early!"

I swallowed hard, trying to mask my unease. So it was a coincidence. A terrifying, Joker-sized coincidence. But that didn't make it any less dangerous.

"Alright," I pressed, keeping my voice steady. "Then why do you need Ivy, Two-Face, and Scarecrow? What's so big about this plan that you've got to call in backup?"

Joker's laughter stopped abruptly, his grin twisting into something darker. He leaned back, his fingers drumming against the crowbar resting on his lap.

"Oh, birdie, you'll find out soon enough. Let's just say... Project Saber is going to be my greatest, most destructive masterpiece yet. Something even you can appreciate, assuming you survive that long."

His words sent a chill down my spine, but I refused to show it. "You're bluffing. It's just another one of your schemes that'll fall apart."

Joker tilted his head, his smile returning but tinged with something more unsettling. "Oh, you really don't get it, do you? You will. Trust me. You will."

He stood, stretching dramatically like a batter about to step up to the plate.

"Welp, break's over! Time to play ball!"

I tensed as he grabbed the crowbar, twirling it with a theatrical flourish.

"Wait, we're not done here!" I snapped, trying to buy time, but he ignored me, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained glee.

"Batter Up! Batta Batta...Swing! EHAHAHAHA!"

The crowbar swung down, and everything went black.

Meanwhile At the Titan's Tower. . .

Cyborg's Pov

The glow of the monitors reflected off my metal arm as I hunched over the console, trying to focus on the task at hand. The electricians on the other end of the line were practically shouting over each other, but I kept my cool.

"Alright, I've rerouted some of the tower's backup power. You should have enough juice to keep the hospital running and get the banks operational. If anything, else comes up, you know where to reach me."

I disconnected the call and leaned back in my chair, letting out a deep breath. My circuits felt fried—not from overuse but from everything that'd been on my mind since the Hive incident.

The door behind me slid open, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Starfire float in. She had that usual bright smile, the one that could light up a room, but tonight, it just made my chest feel heavier.

"Where'd you go?" I asked, not looking too hard.

"I was out with Speedy," she said, her voice chipper as ever.

I froze. Did I hear that right? "Speedy? Roy Harper Speedy?"

"Yes!" she said, landing softly and clasping her hands together. "We had what you call the 'date.' It was most enjoyable."

A part of me wanted to smack my forehead, but I just turned back to my console. Speedy? Seriously? Y/N's gonna lose it if he ever finds out. Not that I'm planning on telling him.

"Good for you, Star," I muttered, keeping my tone neutral. She didn't seem to notice anything off, and with a cheerful goodbye, she floated right back out.

The second the door closed, I let out a groan, rubbing the back of my head. My fingers brushed over the metal plate, but it didn't help with the dull ache I was feeling. Y/N popped into my head, that stupid, smirking face of his.

"Man... I've been such a jerk," I mumbled to myself.

"Yep, you have!"

I nearly jumped out of my chair as a green dog wagged its tail beside me before morphing into Beast Boy.

"Dang it, Garfield!" I growled, glaring at him. "Can you stop sneaking up on me like that?"

He just grinned and plopped down on the couch. "What? I'm agreeing with you. You've been kind of awful to Y/N."

I folded my arms, leaning back in my chair. "And you haven't?"

"Hey, I'm not denying it." Beast Boy shrugged, looking more serious than usual. "We've both been kinda terrible. And now he's not here, and it's like... I don't know. Everything's off, you know?"

I didn't respond right away, staring at the monitors. Beast Boy's right. I'd been blaming Y/N for every little thing. Every failure, every misstep. And I thought I was justified, but now, thinking about it... I wasn't.

"I messed up," I admitted, my voice quieter than I meant it to be.

Beast Boy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yeah. Me too. I mean, I miss the guy. Even if he was annoying sometimes."

I let out a half-laugh. "Annoying doesn't even cover it, man."

The room got quiet for a moment, the weight of what we'd both been saying sinking in. I rubbed the back of my head again, wishing I could shake this guilt.

"You think he's okay?" Beast Boy asked, breaking the silence. His voice wasn't teasing this time. It was serious.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But... I hope so.

. . .

. . .

Back At the Asylum. . .

Y/N's Pov

The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth as I bit down on my tongue, hard. It wasn't the smartest move—heck, probably the dumbest thing I've done in a long while—but it was the only way I could stop myself from giving them anything.

Ivy leaned in closer, her lips stained with that unnatural green hue, her fingers trailing lightly down my arm like a snake testing its prey. "Come on, darling," she purred, her voice as smooth and deadly as venom.

 "Why make this harder on yourself? Just tell me who the Bat is. It'll all be over, and I promise..." Her lips brushed the edge of my ear. "You'll enjoy it."

I bit down harder, the pain shooting through my jaw and down my throat. My tongue screamed at me to stop, but the alternative was worse. A whole lot worse. My head throbbed from earlier, my cheek burned from Joker's crowbar kisses, and now this psycho plant lady was trying to crawl her way into my brain.

Nope. Not happening.

She sighed, her breath warm against my skin as she pressed a hand to my cheek, tilting my face toward her. "You're quite stubborn, you know that?" Her lips quirked up in a mock pout, but her eyes glinted with frustration. "I'd hate to hurt such a pretty face, but you're not giving me much choice."

I stared back at her, my jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might snap. My tongue throbbed like hell, but it was the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing reminding me of why I was doing this. Why I had to do this.

"Stubborn little bird," she mused, her lips curling into a smirk. "Let's see how long you can keep that up." And then, before I could react, she leaned in and kissed me again, her toxins laced in every fiber of that disgusting act.

My body screamed at me to give in. My head swam, and my muscles slackened for just a moment before I bit down harder, the pain shocking me back to reality. I could feel the blood pooling in my mouth, but I didn't care.

Ivy pulled back, her expression twisting with irritation. "Really? Still nothing?" She traced a finger along her chin, pretending to think. "How long do you think you can last, hmm? Before your body gives in? Before your mind gives in?"

I spat the blood onto the floor between us, meeting her eyes with a defiance I didn't know I still had. My tongue was numb, my head was pounding, and every part of me felt like it had been put through a meat grinder. But none of that mattered.

Because why the hell would I ever betray him? The man who gave me a second chance. The man who saved me when no one else would.

"Do your worst," I managed to rasp, my voice hoarse and broken, but the words came out strong enough to make her pause. "You're not getting anything from me."

Her smile dropped, replaced by a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Oh, sweetie. I don't think you understand." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I always get what I want."

She snapped her fingers, and vines slithered up from the floor, coiling around me like snakes tightening their grip. My breath hitched, and for a second, I thought my ribs might crack under the pressure.

But I held on. I had to hold on. Because no matter what they did to me, no matter how much it hurt, I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

Back at the Titan's Tower

Starfire's Pov

I slipped out of my bed, the soft fabric of my pajamas brushing against my skin and padded softly down the hall. I knew Raven wasn't the type to talk openly, but I had to try. Maybe, just maybe, she was feeling the same way.

I knocked gently on her door, almost certain she wouldn't open up to me. Raven didn't do that—she kept herself locked away behind walls that even I couldn't break down, but the door creaked open, revealing her sitting quietly on her bed, her face illuminated by the soft glow of her spellbook.

"Raven?" I asked softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Are you unable to sleep as well?"

She looked up at me for a moment, her dark eyes meeting mine. A long, quiet moment passed before she nodded, and without a word, scooted over on her bed, as if she had already known what I wanted. I smiled as I crawled under the covers beside her, the warmth of the blankets wrapping around us like a shield from the world.

I let out a deep sigh, my thoughts still heavy. The feeling of missing him, of longing for the sound of his voice, was almost overwhelming. "I miss him," Raven muttered softly, her voice quiet but full of emotion.

I turned to face her, my heart aching in understanding. "I miss him too," I replied, my voice thick with the same sadness. 

"Ever since we formed the team, we've had our fair share of laughs. But... it's always been dominated by quarrels, and infighting." I paused, my fingers nervously twisting the edge of the blanket, thinking about how things used to be.

Raven sighed, her voice barely audible in the dim light. "I feel guilty," she admitted, looking down at her hands, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the pages of her book. "Y/N—he was always the one who tried to help me. Even though I didn't let him. He was the one who gave me a chance to be a hero, even when I didn't think I deserved it." Her voice cracked slightly, a hint of regret seeping through. "I should've trusted him more."

I placed a hand on her shoulder, offering comfort. "We all should have," I murmured. "I remember when I first came to Earth, I was so scared. So lost." My voice faltered as memories flooded my mind.

 "And it was Y/N who helped me. He taught me the language through his first kiss with me, and he was always there. Always... understanding." I chuckled lightly, remembering how he'd been so patient with me, guiding me with a calm and steady presence. "Even when I didn't know what I was doing, he never gave up on me."

Raven let out a soft sigh, a gentle exhale that seemed to release some of the tension in her. We lay there together for a while, the weight of our shared thoughts hanging between us.

After a few moments, Raven's voice broke the silence once again. "We shouldn't worry," she said, her tone quieter, almost a bit distant. "Robin will be back soon. And when he does..." She trailed off, her words hanging in the air. "Everything will be fine again."

I nodded, the hope in her words settling into my chest. "You're right," I said softly, my hand resting over my heart. "He always finds a way."

Back at the Asylum

Y/N's Pov.

My chest heaved with each strained breath, my body still trembling from the waterboarding. My throat burned with each gasp for air, the cold water still feeling like it was lodged in my lungs.

"Ready for your next lesson, Robin?" Harvey's voice was calm, too calm, as he flipped that damn coin again.

I had no idea how long I'd been here, no sense of time other than the constant torture and agony that blurred together. They had already broken me down physically, but they were after more than that—they wanted to crush my spirit, too. But I wouldn't let them. Not like this.

Harvey caught the coin in his gloved hand, looking at it for a second as if deciding my fate all over again. "Heads, you lose three fingernails. Tails... well, let's see how long you can take it before the voltage burns you alive."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, my teeth clenched in defiance. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg or scream. No matter how much my body begged for relief, I wouldn't give them that. I wouldn't let them win.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Harvey let the coin fall from his fingers, the heavy clink of it hitting the floor echoing around the room. My heart pounded as I watched it spin, a sickening sense of dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

It landed.

Tails.

I didn't even have time to react before Harvey was grabbing the ends of the cable, the car battery's thick wires already connected to it. He tapped the metal ends together, sparks flying as they cracked and hissed, the smell of burning rubber filling the air. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, the tension thick enough to choke on.

"You're gonna love this part, kid," he said with a grin that sent a chill down my spine. "Let's see how long you can last before you beg for mercy."

Before I could even try to resist, the cable was shoved against my neck, the raw, burning electricity pulsing through my body, jolting every nerve into overdrive. The pain was unbearable, like fire coursing through my veins, my muscles spasming uncontrollably as the voltage surged. My body jerked in the chair, my scream muffled as the current blasted through me, my vision blurring with the agony.

It was like my entire body was being cooked alive from the inside out. The taste of copper flooded my mouth, and I couldn't tell if I was biting my tongue or if it was blood pooling from where the shock had torn at my insides.

My legs buckled, and I collapsed against the restraints, my vision flickering in and out, everything distorted through the haze of pain. I could feel the electricity crawling up my spine, twisting every muscle, every fiber of my being into a raw, exposed nerve. And still, Harvey stood there, watching with that sick grin on his face as the sparks flew, as the agony coursed through me.

I couldn't think, couldn't focus on anything except the pure, unrelenting pain. My throat screamed, but no sound came out—just a hoarse, guttural gasp as my body writhed against the chair, fighting the shock but unable to escape it.

"Do you like it, Robin?" Harvey asked, his voice almost playful now. "How does it feel to be nothing more than a puppet for our amusement? You think you're some hero? Some symbol of justice?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, mocking whisper. "You're nothing. Just a toy to be broken."

And as the electricity continued to flow, I realized just how far they were willing to push me. Just how much they wanted to break me. But I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

I couldn't. Not yet. Not when there was still a spark of defiance left in me.

Through the pain, through the agony, I managed to think of one thing.

I won't break. Not like this.

And with that thought clinging to the last remnants of my sanity, I let out another scream—this time louder, rawer, a scream that was almost a promise to myself.

Timeskip. . .

I could barely breathe, my chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. The pain was unbearable, my body twisted in the restraints, my muscles screaming for release. My eyes were swollen shut, but even through the blur, I could see the cruel flickers of movement around me. The barbed wire dug into my suit with every twitch, every tiny shift. I was no longer sure where the wire ended and my flesh began. It all felt the same—torn, broken, bleeding.

But then I heard them.

The shrill, manic giggle of Harley Quinn echoed from behind the door. My stomach churned. I barely had the energy to turn my head in their direction, but I did anyway. The voices came closer, growing louder as they approached. Harley's giggles were followed by the unmistakable, psychotic voice of the Joker.

I could hear the shrieking sound of a party popper followed by Joker's voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"Ah, I see our little Robin's still awake," he taunted, his words sickly sweet with mockery. "The physical torture is over, kid. But we're just getting started."

The door opened, and they entered, like a mad couple on a sadistic honeymoon. Joker was all smiles, his face twisted into that horrifying grin, while Harley bounced beside him, still giggling like a child who just got a new toy. The kind of toy that was already broken.

I wanted to retort, wanted to say something—anything to show them that I wasn't finished. But all that came out was a weak groan as my body refused to cooperate.

Joker stopped in front of me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "So, do you know what's next for you, Robin?" He leaned in, his voice low and teasing.

I managed to grit my teeth, trying to steady my breath. "Mental and psychological torture?" I rasped, a hollow chuckle slipping out of me despite the pain. They weren't going to break me that easily.

Joker faked a gasp of delight, clapping his hands in mock approval. "Correct!" His laugh bubbled up, sickening and full of glee. "So perceptive, Robin! This is gonna be so much fun!" He stepped back, gesturing for Harley to bring something into the room.

Harley skipped to the corner, holding a small TV in her hands like it was a child's toy. She set it down gently, her eyes gleaming as she turned it on. Static flickered before the screen switched to live footage.

My heart pounded. No... please don't let it be what I think it is.

I didn't have to wait long. The screen zoomed in on the Justice League—the very people I thought I could trust. Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash... all of them, gathered in the Hall of Justice. I could hear snippets of conversation—muted, too far to make out clearly—but their body language spoke volumes. I felt my stomach drop.

"You know," Joker continued, walking around the TV, his voice playful, "they know the type of treatment you get. They know how much they've ignored you. How much they've looked down on you."

I clenched my jaw, my mind racing. This wasn't new. This isn't what they think will break me.

"Been handling their insults since I started," I forced out, my voice hoarse, raw. "This isn't gonna work. You can't make me feel like nothing."

The Joker tilted his head, his grin widening as if I had just told him the funniest joke in the world. But before he could respond, I felt a sharp, cold sting on my neck, the sudden pain making me gasp. My vision blurred as I tried to focus, but it was already too late.

Scarecrow was standing behind me, injecting something into my neck. The liquid was ice cold, and my head spun instantly. My body fought against it, but the drug surged through my veins like poison.

"Let's see how long you can stay sane now, Robin," Joker's voice cut through the haze, his tone dark and gleeful. "It's not the usual heroes, no. It's not Superman, or Flash, or any of those soft-hearted idiots you think care about you. It's Batman."

My pulse quickened. Batman. The one person I thought I could rely on. The one person who showed me what it meant to be something more than just a child of tragedy. I shook my head, my body screaming to move, to resist, but the drug was already taking hold.

But Joker wasn't done. He laughed, watching me squirm, and Scarecrow stepped forward. He was holding something in his hands, two devices that looked like twisted, cruel instruments. He smiled behind his mask as he moved closer, his presence suffocating, his voice low.

"Let's keep those pretty little eyes open for me, shall we?" He whispered.

Before I could protest, I felt the cold metal of the eye-opening tool press against my eyelids. With a grunt, I tried to fight back, but the drugs and the weight of my body's pain kept me rooted to the chair. I couldn't move, couldn't fight. I was forced to stare straight ahead as Scarecrow adjusted the tool.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to turn away. But I couldn't. The pain, the cold, the humiliation... it all drowned me out.

I felt helpless.

For the first time, I wasn't Robin. I was just a broken shell of a person, trapped in a nightmare of my own making. 

"Bwahaha! Oh, this is beautiful!" Joker howled, his voice full of madness. "Let's see how long it takes for you to crack, Robin! Let's see how long you can hold onto that precious little thing you call hope."

I couldn't help but scream...a genuine, full of fear, pain and unbearable dread at what I'm about to experience next.

https://youtu.be/LIajfAWGjT0

To Be Continued. . .