Dinah was off her game. Physically bested by the Scarecrow? She was better than that. Usually, she was better than that.
She had enough time to reflect that she really should have brought back-up, and then she sank to her knees. Someone somewhere was screaming. She didn't stop to think that it might have been her.
"Jake," she whispered, or perhaps screamed.
Jake was gone. He was gone, and all that was left was blood and one of his plates and the signs of a struggle.
Jake was gone and she knew exactly who had him. She watched as the Joker tortured her boy, helpless to stop him.
That wasn't right. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. But that quiet voice of reason was drowned out as the fears continued to come to life.