The Iceberg Lounge was one of those places that smart people knew to stay away from. The kind of place that always showed up on the news for gang violence, stabbings, shootings, the works. However, if you lived on the streets like Jason Todd did as a kid, you'd know it was where shady people went when they needed something.

It was an establishment owned by Oswald Cobblepot, a guy with a name that Jason always thought sounded like it belonged in a Harry Potter book. You see, Cobblepot had to crack down on all this drama. Despite how deep his pockets were, he could only bribe so much. All of that attention on his bar was making him sweat, so guns were eventually banned. The last thing he wanted was the GCPD getting nosy.

This fact was going to make Jason's job tonight a whole lot easier.

Music was blaring and the main room of the lounge was shrouded in shadow with only pulsing strobe lights momentarily providing visibility to the patrons present. It was easy enough for Jason to slip behind the security at the front; now for the even easier part.

A bellowing laugh overpowered the music as Jason strode by a booth. "Didn't realise it was Halloween! Where's your mom?!"

The man stepped out of the booth and approached Jason, who was clad in his Robin suit. Without slowing his urgent stride, Jason rammed his forehead into the man's nose.

He didn't watch as the guy fell backwards onto his table, throwing the various cocktails onto his still-seated friends.

Robin scanned the dozens of faces, ignoring the pain that throbbed through his skull.

"What the fuck!?"

"This a prank or something!?"

Gang leaders waved, causing their goons to push to their feet and trail over to Jason like sharks to blood. The henchmen started barking at him, he didn't really care what they were saying. He was ready to reply though.

Nobody could really tell what happened because of the damn flashing lights. The result was periodically visible freeze frames of Robin throwing elbows into peoples' jaws, stomping kneecaps, snapping bones, and punching out teeth.

The bubble of brutality drifted across the Iceberg Lounge, converging on the table belonging to Vincent Valen.

At this point, Robin was panting and flecked with blood. It wasn't his blood. In his wake was a trail of bloodied men writhing on the ground.

As Valen's bodyguards rushed the teenager, Jason clutched one by the top of his skull, slammed his face into the corner of the table, then threw a haymaker into the other's lower jaw.

They both dropped like sacks of potatoes.

Now with no one standing in his way, Jason stared at the frozen Vincent Valen who was much too terrified to even try to flee. Jason glanced down at the table, snatched a drink that was miraculously still upright, and skulled it in a single breath.

"W-What do you want?!" Valen shouted over the thumping dubstep.

Jason, with the glass empty, set it gently onto the table. "Zsasz"

Valen's brow twitched. "What about Zsasz?"

"I know what you do for a living, man. You're every serial killer's favourite janitor. You use, what, concentrated acid?" Jason pressed, inching closer to Valen. "Let a body marinate in that stuff for a week, and bam. It's gone, right? No evidence."

Valen swallowed. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

As he thinned his lips, Jason brandished a Batarang sharpened far beyond regular specifications. He snatched Valen's forearm. "Last chance, man."

"W-What-- get off me you fucking--"

Robin jabbed the batarang into the man's forearm. His scream overpowered the music for a split second. Jason drew the weapon several centimetres down Valen's skin, cleaving the flesh open. All the while, Jason pressed his body weight onto Valen to stifle his flailing.

"Fuck you! F-Fuck you, motherfucking psycho!"

Grunting in amusement, Jason scooped up a shot glass and dumped its payload of alcohol onto Valen's fresh wound.

Jason watched Valen reel over, mouth wide open. Despite the loud music, he was pretty sure that he wasn't screaming. The man was in so much pain that he was silent. Jason released him, and Valen collapsed onto the floor clutching his arm.

Robin added, "How about I ask you again?"

Valen growled through his gritted teeth, "H-He's-- God, fuck...! H-He's in Burnside! Fucking Burnside!"

"That doesn't help. Where exactly?"

Valen spat, "I d-don't fucking know!"

Because of his training, Jason peered over his shoulder. Seeing as he was on his own, he needed to watch his own back. As if he looked exactly at the right time, he saw a security guard stomping towards him from the far side of the room.

In the guard's hand was a syringe. He pressed the thing against his own neck and punched the chemicals into his bloodstream.

Jason and Bruce had gathered intel about a new drug hitting the streets in the last month. A performance enhancer...steroid kind of thing. The one major edge it has over steroids is that the effects are almost impossibly instant.

Before Robin's eyes, the bouncer's muscles began to inflate like balloons. The guy looked like he was getting taller as well.

"Fuck," muttered Robin under his breath.

The brute strode forward, flipping away the tables that kept him from the crime fighter.

Jason had trained for a great many things, so despite the circumstances, he had a couple of options. He shoved his hand into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a device that resembled a spray bottle.

The bouncer pushed forward in a jog. Up close, the guy appeared to be an overwhelming wall of pure muscle. He moved almost too quickly for Jason to anticipate, but by the skin of his teeth, he managed to hurl himself underneath an oncoming fist.

As he rolled, Jason pressed the nozzle of his gadget against the ground and it discharged a thick bubbly paste that instantly solidified once exposed to the atmosphere.

Robin turned to face his opponent once clearing minimum safe distance and squeezed the arming key on his device.

A pulse of concussive energy shook the room and flickered the lighting. However effective the explosive gel was against your regular crook, Jason soon discovered that it wasn't going to cut it against whatever this guy was.

The curls of smoke that lapped about the blast area were split like curtains when the bouncer's wide frame came through.

He should at least have a concussion and broken bones...but Robin couldn't see any signs of those injuries.

Within the blink of an eye, the bouncer had closed the space and threw a fist downward aimed right at Robin's head.

Jason wasn't fast enough. The flat of the curved fist clipped the side of Robin's head and slammed his face into the ground with a crack.

The force was enough to bounce the young man a few feet off the ground.

He tumbled backwards and scampered to his feet, clutching his head with his left hand. His ears were ringing. His vision was fading.

Growling, Robin twirled his sharpened batarang and pegged at his still-approaching enemy. With an underwhelming 'thunk', the blade lodged itself in the bouncer's chest. Blood slowly seeped from the wound, but he continued in his stride.

Jason quipped, "C-Come on...you're dead...!"

The guy didn't bother to pull the weapon from his body.

"Could you explain this abboration to me?" a familiar voice interrupted.

Jason glanced over his shoulder. Standing there beside him was Rahn.

"Drugs," he panted, stumbling away from the bouncer.

Rahn didn't move at all. When the hulking man approached her, she peered up at him. He reeled back to unleash some supposedly devastating attack, but when his fist connected with Rahn's jaw, the effectiveness of the strike was apparent.

The man's arm folded like it was made of cardboard. As it flexed, the splintered bone inside pierced his flesh and jutted outward. He spun, growling...but once again showed no signs of slowing.

The bouncer came back around, preparing to lash out once more. Jason spat out the blood in his mouth. Whatever he doped himself out on seemed to inhibit pain reception. He should be down and out, that was one hell of an injury. If this continues, the bastard will keep hurting himself until he bleeds out.

Jason had seen how Superman handles going against weaker foes. He's trained vigorously to be able to 'flow' with punches, follow them through to prevent injury. Rahn? She wasn't going to do that.

"Hey! Knock him out!"

Rahn turned to Jason. "He no longer appears human. Am I now able to dispatch him?"

"No! Do it now, for fuck's sake!!"

Jason didn't see what happened. One of the loudest sounds he heard in his life shook the foundations of the club. The man's limp body slammed into the floor, shattering the tiles around it.

Rahn's hand was firmly clasped around his face. He stopped moving.

With a sigh of relief, Jason rubbed the side of his head. "Holy shit..."

Without explanation, Rahn disappeared with the bouncer's body. Then the other injured people vanished one by one. Jason's mouth dropped open. As soon as it started happening, it was over. Rahn reappeared before Jason.

"All incapacitated persons have been relocated to the closest medical facility," she said plainly. "I seem to remember your mentor revoking your uniform. How did you retrieve it?"

Robin slowly trudged across the empty dance floor, trying to shake off the disorientation. "He taught me too well. Thanks...for the help."

He knelt and plucked an empty syringe up from the floor. It had a filthy label on its side sprawled with nearly illegible handwriting that read 'veneno'. Spanish.

"Venom..." Jason muttered.

"What was the purpose of this excursion? You almost died," Rahn pressed

With a laugh, Jason pushed to his feet and shook his head. "You're starting to sound like Bruce. Look, I was out here digging for intel. I got it, so I'm leaving."

"You acted without Batman's authorisation."

"Yeah? So?"

"I am...attempting to understand."

"Bruce is too careful sometimes. Doesn't like doing things in a spotlight. Sometimes that's the only way, though." Jason slipped the empty syringe into one of his pouches. "I got a lead on this psycho that's been ahead of us for months. All I had to do was walk in the front door and ask."

Rahn nodded. "You require medical attention."

Jason waved a hand at her. "I'll be fine."

"You have a concussion and a fractured skull. I recommend returning to the Cave and reporting to Alfred for medication. Relay what you learned to Batman."

"No thanks. I'd rather not deal with his bullshit right now. There's someone else I can get on it," Jason mumbled.

Rahn cocked her head. "Who?"

Jason smirked. "She's smart. Likes her big words. Just like you."

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