"Screw you," Jason said defiantly, coughing up a spurt of deep crimson, still trying to resist the Joker's games.

It was only after the clown left that he allowed his head to slump and the tears to form. He couldn't feel his arms or shoulders anymore. His ankle was bent at an unnatural angle. It hurt, but then so did most of him. Hunger had stopped being a concern days ago.

"Hey," he groaned at the goon still in the room with him. "End this. I dare you." Joker's flunkies never responded, but this one was new and could potentially still be reasoned with. He doubted he'd be granted the mercy of being let go, but an end would nevertheless be a release from this nightmare.

After all, no one was coming for him. Not Bruce. No one.