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In the event of an explosion, Robin was supposed to hide under Batman's cape. It began when Dick, Robin at the time, had been injured in an encounter with the Riddler. The details of said altercation were buried somewhere in the Batcomputer's files, along with every other report.
What followed, however, wasn't. Once Dick was allowed to patrol again, Bruce started training him to hide under his cape when facing something he couldn't really get away from; such as gunfire, explosions, fire, and the like.
Eventually, it became natural to duck into the shadows of the Bat's cape.
After Jason took up the mantle of Robin, it was one of the first things he learned to do. All it took was a quick "Robin!" and Jason would hide in the safety of Batman's dark cape. It was second nature eventually. Jason's life had been saved by his cape more times than he could count.
He'd learned to associate the darkness and the heavy weight on his back with safety. Even if he could feel the heat of a fire from behind it, he knew he was safe as long as he was tucked under Bruce's cape.
Some nights, when he was feeling particularly upset, he'd sneak into the Cave and take the Dark Knight's cape and use it as a blanket. Bruce no doubt noticed, but chose not to call him out.
If the dark cape started to be left out, draped over random things in the Cave, neither of them said anything.
—
Jason couldn't tell how long he'd been in the warehouse. Not that it really mattered at the moment; medical attention was much more important. That much was obvious.
As the Joker's cackling laugh faded out, he slowly cracked one eye open. The room seemed to spin around him, but he ignored it in favor of rolling onto his back and flipping himself over, panting as he slipped his cuffed hands under his feet. He quickly pushed himself onto his hands, not sparing a moment to take note of the copious amount of blood— his blood— on the concrete floor, before struggling to his feet.
The floor swayed beneath him, and he staggered forward, only to fall onto his face. Jason didn't give himself a second to rest, pushing his strugging body onto his elbows and crawling, his legs a dead weight behind him.
Every second was pure agony. His broken ribs were screaming at him, as well as his lungs. Or one of them, at least. Jason could hardly breathe, but he pushed onward.
He had to.
He couldn't die here.
Dick had finally started warming up to him; they were even gonna go see some movie when Dick came back from his mission with the Titans. Jason couldn't even remember the title— it hadn't really seemed interesting to him— but his brother finally wanted to acknowledge him, to get to know him, and he'd been so fucking excited.
And he had a good family now. Sure, Bruce and Dick still fought, but they were trying and Jason was so happy with them, and he got to go to school and—
And Jason never got to say goodbye to them.
He couldn't die yet.
Jason panted as he dragged his useless body, a bloody trail following him up until he reached the door. He reached up, tugging at the handle, and it opened and Bruce was there to wrap him up in his cape and rush him to a hospital and he was safe.
Only, that didn't happen.
He tried desperately at the handle, but it didn't open. A lock tauntingly hit against the door, only confirming his fears.
The Boy Wonder let go, turning around to press his back to the door and holding his side.
That's when the beeping caught his attention.
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Jason's eyes were wide— one barely open, as it was swollen shut— as he stared at the countdown. Realization hit him like a truck. Or, more accurately, a crowbar.
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He was going to die here. The Joker never intended for him to live.
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His eyes relaxed as he kept staring. This was how it ended.
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In that moment, Jason wished that Bruce's heavy cape was wrapped around him, like so many times before. But it wasn't, and it never would again. All because Jason ran off without him.
"Sorry, dad."
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