Archive of Our Own ^beta

"What the fuck?" 

Jason didn't particularly have anything else he could say in such a situation. What was he meant to say? There was nothing, absolutely nothing that could have prepared him for this.

Absolutely nothing. 

"Jaylad, Jaylad." The keening distressed noises echoed the cell, repeated in a delirious mantra.

"Can't get him to shut up but you get the gist." One of the men waved his arm at fucking Batman. Batman, chained to a wall, blood on his jaw and eyes clouded. Batman who was struggling with every ounce of energy, pleading Jason's name. Batman, whose neck was adorned with a pretty red ribbon and a fucking gift tag signed "To the Red Hood." Like he wasn't being gifted Gotham's Dark Knight but instead a pair of new socks.

"What's wrong with him?" Jason rasped out, glad the modulator in his hood muffled how his voice truly sounded. 

"Terry got him with one of 'Crows new experimental doses. Figured it would be the only thing that works, he usually seems pretty immune to the regular ones."

"He's high on Fear?" Jason asked, arms crossed, standing at the cell door with two of the guys who'd called to order him the 'gift.' In exchange for his eomplyment. 

"Yup. Shouldn't be long till it wears off though hopefully,  that's all he's been sayin' the entire time."

"Jaylad. Jaylad! Jaylad."

The word didn't stop, it echoed over and over again, sometimes it was shouted, sometimes it was the barest whisper, sometimes it was spoken with awe and wonder and others with dawning horror and sheer grief.

Jason couldn't stand it.

"I'll take him. You got a price?"

"We want you to work for us." The man spoke, the other was likely Terry. Jason frowned under his hood. Did he give the impression he was a henchmen?

Wouldn't that be news, Batman taken down by two no name thugs. The luckiest of lucky shots.

"Mhh." Jason mused, pretending to think, arms casually unfolding to hang at his sides, so close to the pistols strapped in his thighs. 

"It's a more than generous offer, Hood, that's the fucking Bat, all we want is your manpower." Terry gestured.

"You don't believe us?" The other guy asked, frowning.

"No, I believe you. I can recognize Batman." Hood quipped and then sighed. 

"Sorry guys, I'll have to decline, I'm not one to work under others and I'll take the Bat off your hands too. Thanks for the offer though."

In the same fluid movement he pulled his pistols and shot both of them square in the chest before they even had time to flinch or grab their own weapons. Terry slumped back first, coughing harshly, hands clawing at his chest, coming back red. The other guy fell forwards and Jason clicked his tongue. Forward meant he'd bleed out faster.

For good measure though, Jason didn't prolong things and fired a round into both men's skulls.

It was silent. 

Jason frowned. Bruce had stopped speaking. He was limp, hanging loose in his restraints.

"Bats?" Hood raised his voice, thinking perhaps the guys had gotten a stray bullet in somehow or- or-

"Batman!" Jason snapped, yanking the cell door open and storming over. 

He wrenched Bruce's head back by one of the ears on the cowl. Bruce's eyes were cloudy, unseeing but blinking. His chin and lips were covered in blood, he'd probably bit his tongue and Jason couldn't see how serious it was. The rest of him looked fine, beyond maybe the damage to his wrists where he'd struggled so frantically that even the Batsuit could no longer protect him. 

"Please." Bruce croaked out, blinking slowly, eyes latching into Jason despite still looking glassy.

"What?" Jason snapped, trying to ignore the anxiety in his stomach, the sheer panic he felt at seeing Bruce like this. He thought he hated the man but clearly not. He felt sick. 

Bruce needed him though, he had to push down his own panic until he had Bruce somewhere better than a dingy cell.

"My son. Please.  Please. Save him. I- I'm not good enough. Please. Please save my baby." Bruce whined, full on whined, eyes wet.

Jason recoiled violently and flinched backwards so far he hit the cell bars.

"Please! Please promise me! Please! Jaylad! Jaylad." Bruce babbled, still limp despite his frantic yells. Jason felt his breathing stutter into an arrhythmic beat, everything felt too stuffy and he couldn't breathe. Was that smoke he smelt? Was that the scorching heat of an explosion on his skin?

He yanked the hood off his head, fingers tangling into his hair, yanking on the strands as he tried to get his breathing under wraps. The sharp stinging pain seemed to help, let Jason know that no he wasn’t in the Warehouse, he wasn’t dying, wasn’t feeling his body burn and be crushed and ever so slightly hearing Bruce’s muffled yells before he woke up in a box.

No. He was okay. He could freak out later, when Bruce was safe, when he was safe and when he didn’t feel like Gotham's eyes could see his every weakness.

“My son. Please. Please Jaylad d-don’t leave me-” Bruce sniffled and Jason snapped back to reality, stormed over to Bruce and then angrily tore off one of his gloves.

“Shut the fuck up, Bats.” Jason scolded because if he kept saying stuff like that there was a chance he’d slip up his identity or worse, attract trouble. Jason only felt a little bit bad when he shoved his discarded glove between Bruce’s lips, muffling the Vigilante who couldn’t figure out how to get his arms to work while high on Fear nor how to cough the fabric out. Instead he only continued his pleas but was muffled and incoherent by the fabric thankfully. He carefully put the hood back on his head and then broke the chains holding Bruce. He could do this. 

Jason struggled to get Bruce up onto wobbly feet, hoisting an arm over his shoulder while getting one of his own arms under Bruce's opposing shoulder. The man was heavy, in full Batgear and a dead weight in Jason's arms.  

"C'mon B, work with me." Jason grit out. Bruce seemed to register the words, perhaps the Toxin was slowly flushing itself out? Bruce's upper body still felt heavy but his legs walked, kept pace with Jason and the rising Crime Lord almost wept in relief.

"That's it B, nice and steady." Jason reassured and bit down the green that wanted to take advantage of Bruce's vulnerable state. His jaw hurt from his hard he was clenching it, to keep steady and in control, be it from the pit or straight up panic. 

He could do this. 

Honestly, considering he hadn't taken the ribbon off yet, if he did get caught, he'd put his drama classes to good use and spew some bullshit about having bought him or something. It might work depending on who catches them. 

But, Jason lucked out, they made it all the way to his nearest Safehouse and only passed a couple of drunks in that time, neither of them flinched at the sight, too far into their own inebriated states.

He plopped Bruce down on his bed and took the glove from his mouth, Bruce had gone silent halfway through their walk anyway. The older man slumped into the mattress. Jason frowned, he'd never seen a Fear Toxin have that effect, but Bruce literally looked on the verge of unconsciousness. Maybe he’d worn himself out struggling or maybe the Toxin was a new kind of terrible that didn't even give you the chance to plead against your worst fears, maybe it just made them absolute.

Jason couldn't tell, he wasn't familiar with Crane's latest work, he hadn't been back in Gotham long and hadn't made enough of a name for himself yet to do business with the Rogues.

So instead he took the chance he had, Bruce so thoroughly out of it. After the ribbon and tag were discarded, the gauntlets came off first, Jason knew all the little clasps and hidden switches to get things off without the failsafe electronics wired into every part. He rested them on the desk he had in the room, thankfully empty because he didn't keep sensitive documentation in his safehouses unless he was present. The suit was actually a few pieces so Jason took his time meticulously shedding the Batsuit and folding the parts onto the desk, in a nice organised manner. The only thing left was the Cowl, Bruce in just long, thin pants and a vest. He never wore much under the suit because it got so warm. Jason figured he'd be okay to be left in those underclothes, the part he wanted access to was exposed anyway. 

"Jesus, B." Jason exhaled. Even through the suit, Bruce's wrists were red raw, skin torn and parts covered in crusted, dry blood. He'd struggled so much for what? To save a version of Jason long dead?

"Tch." Jason clicked his tongue. It angered him that Bruce had tried so desperately for a Jason that wasn't real. What about the one that had been real? 

The cowl finally came off, placed on top of the chest piece on the desk. Bruce's face had clearly aged, stress lines and patches of greying roots and-

Jason gave a shaky gasp as he ran his fingers carefully over the skin of his cheek. 

"Jesus, fucking damnit." Jason cursed because he was just going to make sure Bruce wasn't concealing any serious injuries and then hightail to freedom but now… Now there was no escaping the feeling in his very bones that pleaded he do more to help, to look after the very same man who'd given Jason everything he could ever want when Jason's life was at its darkest. 

"Fine." He snapped, storming out into the living/dining room combo this particular safehouse had. It took a couple of minutes for Jason to shed out of his armour and hood, leaving his gear strewn on the floor. He'd sort it later, besides the security on this place was as good as Batproof. That left him in a shirt and his combat trousers, keeping two guns holstered to his thighs. Everything else went, including his boots because he didn't want to tramp mud all through the flat, more so than he already had. 

He headed to the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit. All his safe house had an extensive kit in case he needed to crawl to one for an emergency patch up.

Jason didn't need much this time but still. He brought the box with him back into his bedroom. The sight had him pause in the doorway.

"Fuck." Jason whispered to himself because Bruce had curled himself up and was fast asleep, face lax and looking younger, more how Jason remembered it. It would be harder to sort out his wrists like this, held so tightly to Bruce's face but it had to be done. 

Jason was meticulous and precise, making sure to clean both wrists of dried blood and disinfecting the split skin before plastering them up and finishing them off with bandages. He scrubbed the blood from Bruce's chin, now long dried. It was almost certain Bruce wasn't in serious danger, if he had still been able to talk he couldn't have bit his tongue badly and without checking it was a possibility he'd maybe only bitten the inside of his lip instead. It would have to wait until Bruce was awake, Jason didn't have the heart to wake him.

Either way, Jason worked fast, with steady hands as he cleaned up Bruce before leaving him to rest. 

Jason closed the curtains and headed back to the kitchen, bringing back a glass of water and two painkillers, leaving them on the bedside. Bruce wouldn't likely take them when he woke up, he was paranoid to the extremities, but still. 

"Night Dad." Jason whispered when finished, carefully laying one of his spare sheets over Bruce's lower half and then departing. He cleaned away his Red Hood suit and then crashed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. 

He was exhausted, physically and emotionally. His hands shook as everything finally came crashing down. 

"Fuck." Jason spoke once more, the only word that summed up his day. Tears welled in his eyes as he let everything wash over him. His sobs were silent, he’d long since learned that, on his days on the street, weakness would get him killed, making sounds would get him discovered. So, he buried his silent cries into a couch cushion, curling up on his side with the plan of leaving with his suit as soon as he got himself together, he couldn’t be here when Bruce woke up.

Except-

Jason woke up to a weight pinning him down and a hand around his neck.

“Who the hell are you?” Bruce rasped out, voice hoarse, probably from all the screaming earlier, and face like thunder.

“S-Stop. You’ll aggravate your wrists.” Jason gasped out and Bruce’s hand, for the slightest second, slackened, until it was back in full force once more.

“Who?”

“J-Jason. B- let go.” Jason choked out, attempting to squirm and struggle below the mass of Batman. Bruce inhaled sharply and backed up, only minimally, hand removed from Jason’s neck and hand pinning him down a little looser but still unescapable present.

“Don’t lie to me.” Bruce’s voice was poisonous, venom dripping from his words and Jason shivered.

“Bruce. B. I came back.” Jason stumbled, he’d not wanted to be here for this. He didn’t want this confrontation and yet… a part of him did. A part of him had heard Bruce’s wild pleas, seen how he’d struggled so much… a part of him just wanted his Dad back.

“I woke up six months later and d-dug my way out.” Jason’s voice wobbled, fists clenching. He didn’t like the fact that was his only memory before the League showed up. 

“I wandered for a while I think? I don’t remember anything else though, I think I had brain damage and then Talia picked me up?” Jason fumbled to speak, watching Bruce’s face flicker through unguarded emotions.

“I was with them uh about a year, I only have vague bits of memory, I think I was mostly in charge of looking after a toddler? Which.. weird. Um- and then Talia threw me in the Pit because I wasn’t making progress? And then she sent me here and told me I’d been replaced and uh- the Pit really wants to hurt him, Dad. Please don’t let me hurt the new Kid.” Jason swallowed and couldn’t meet Bruce’s eyes. His lip wobbled and he really tried to bite down his tears.

“Jaylad.” Bruce breathed and Jason could only nod.

“I’m sorry Dad- I- I killed the men who had you. I was gonna’ kill a bunch more people too. I- I had this whole stupid plan to get my name out there and- and get the Jo-” Jason froze, tense and then stumbled through more words. “Get him out of Arkham-”

“Jaylad, why?” Bruce rasped, his hands no longer holding Jason down but pulling him close, against Bruce’s chest, into a hug. Jason melted.

“Wanted you to avenge me Dad.” Jason mumbled into the vest.

“Jay…”

“I know. I know.” Jason cried, sniffling quietly as Bruce held him, rocking him gently, Jason dug his fingers into Bruce’s vest and clung desperately.

“You know I can’t, Jason.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry B.” Jason babbled. “I didn’t- I- I’m sorry I ran off and I- I broke your rule.”

“It doesn’t matter now Jason, you’re back. I have you. I promise I won’t- I won’t let you down again, Son.” Bruce murmured and Jason only clung tighter. “I’ve got you Jaylad.”

And Jason believed him.