Chapter Text
Jason POV
If Jason had had his way, he would have been at home, with a warm cup of jasmine tea and a good book.
Actually, if Jason had his way, he never would have gotten involved with Bruce Wayne and his gaggle of birdies.
But of course, he never gets his way, and now he was here - body shaking from the adrenaline surge and staring up at almost total darkness. The boom from the sudden explosion of the Gotham Hilton Hotel where the 8th Annual Wayne Foundation: Children of Park Row fundraiser was being held had subsided and all that was left was a ringing in Jason’s ears.
He could feel the warm slick of blood trickling down the bridge of his nose.
Head wound he thought blearily, carefully shifting his neck and shoulders feeling a quick flash of relief as no new pain flared. He stretched his fingers out, letting out a low, guttural moan as his right hands’ pinkie cracked.
It was taking all of Jason’s self-control to not spiral into a panic attack. His non-consensual dip in the lazarus pit had taken his teenage temper and anxiety and amplified it ten-fold. After years of focusing on healing from his coffin-induced claustrophobia (thank you YouTube therapy), he learned new coping mechanisms to help in situations like these, which happened more frequently than he’d like given his night job. The steady one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three… trailed in the back of his mind as he slowed his breathing.
But this wasn’t his night job and he wasn’t prepared - the ever present disappointed Bruce that lived in his head was preening with vindication - to be trapped in the middle of the afternoon with none of his gear and surrounded by civilians.
Jason had been volunteering with the foundation for a few months now in a promise to Alfred to get more involved with the family. Since he was still legally dead and had less than zero interest in actually attending the gala that night, Jason had signed up for the set-up shift to appease Alfred and Bruce in one go. Now no one was going to be happy with this situation except maybe the demon brat who was still annoyed with Jason hiding his Bat Burger Red Hood action figure.
A red light suddenly lit the darkness from the watch on his left wrist. Designed by Roy after the last time the Outlaws got caught in an explosion and lost their comms, the watch automatically sent his teammates an alert when Jason’s heart rate reached a certain speed.
Jason felt something unlock inside him almost in relief. Sure, the panicked anxiety was still sitting squarely in his chest but the Lazarus green that had started to creep into his vision started to recede.
You’re going to be fine. You will not be left here this time and he-they will be here in time he thought firmly to himself.
The glowing red light gave him the ability to look around now. There was pieces of ceiling, light fixtures and marble flooring surrounding him.
Shifting slightly and using his left elbow to prop himself up with a slight hiss, it took all of Jason’s self control to not let out a gasp as he finally got a glimpse of his lower half. It was as if not being able to see his legs had made his mind numb to the pain that suddenly came roaring forward, flooding all of his senses.
His left thigh was skewered by a large piece of the luxurious chandelier that had been the centerpiece of the gala room. A particularly large piece of glass was protruding from the right side of his hip.
Any hope that Jason had mere seconds ago faded away. Blood stained his once crisp, white shirt and was slowly beginning to turn his khaki pants into a muddy brown.
Jason knew that at the rate that he was losing blood, there was no chance he’d be getting out of here. He laid back down fully and blinked rapidly, trying to stop the unwanted tears from free flowing. Even if Kori and Roy were responding to the alert, they wouldn’t get to him in time.
He would he dead.
Again.
Once more found in the smoky rubble of a tragic explosion.
The tears came faster. He didn’t want to go. He had just started feeling solid with his footing with the bats-his brothers and sisters. Tim had dropped him off at the hotel on his way into Wayne Enterprises this morning and he had brunch plans with Babs and her birdies tomorrow morning. Dick had spent the better part of a week helping Jason set up his latest safe house and Damian had even let him review his book report for school. And Bruce…
“Dad…Dad please-please…” Jason gasped out between his sobs. “please…”
The pain flared as the debris shifted around him and swarmed his senses. His eyes fluttered shut, and he let out one last cry for Bruce before falling silent.