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He never really liked loud noises. But since Ethiopia, Jason hated them. He was actually terrified of loud noises, and living in a big city could be very difficult sometimes.
This evening, Jason was home after a small patrol. Bruce had insisted for him to go back home with them, but Jason had refused. He couldn’t understand why Bruce insisted that much, but he wanted to be alone. He wasn’t feeling comfortable with his family. And they didn’t care about him anyway.
He was sitting on the couch with a beer when he heard the first explosion.
He immediately tensed and instinctively went to the window, freezing when he heard another explosion.
Fireworks, he thought and suddenly he realized that it was the Fourth of July and the fireworks will be during the whole night. He started to feel very shaky and unstable on his feet. He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t hear the same explosion noises for hours. He just couldn’t do it. He curled up on the floor and pressed his knees against his chest, trying to ignore the noise, and the explosions, and the flashbacks.
Why him?
As if he didn’t suffer enough already. He had to suffer again every time he heard a loud noise.
He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t think. As if he was stuck six feet under again.
He tried to cover his ears with anything, but he could still hear the loud explosions and when a green light illuminated his apartment for a few seconds, he let out a loud cry. He couldn’t hide it anymore, he was terrified.
He couldn’t even tell if it’s been seconds, minutes, or hours, sobbing uncontrollably curled up under his window, completely out of it.
His mind was stuck in a flashback of the warehouse, and the explosion, and the Joker. He could hear his laugh in his head as if he was there with him again.
“P-Please… anyone…” he sobbed. He was so scared. God, he was so scared.
He was still sobbing on the floor when he felt something -someone- helping him in a sitting position and holding him close.
For a moment, he panicked. It has to be the Joker, it has to be him.
But he heard someone shushing him softly, running a hand down his back and trying to calm him down. He couldn’t calm down, because the explosions were still there and he could still hear them.
“Jaybaby, breathe. I’m here, please. You’re going to be just fine.”
Bruce helped Jason up and kissed his son’s forehead.
“Dad… the explosions,” whispered Jason. He couldn’t stop shaking
“I’ve got you, Jaylad.” mumbled Bruce, one of his arms was around Jason’s waist and the other petted his hair slowly, “Focus on my voice, I’ll take you back to the Manor. I’m going to take care of you, lad.”
Jason sobbed again when he heard another explosion outside. He didn’t really notice that Bruce had started to coax him towards the exit of his apartment and to the Batmobile. Jason was holding his father’s arm for dear life in the street as he was trying to ignore the screams and the fireworks.
When Bruce opened the car door, Jason almost threw himself in the car, closing his eyes and trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn’t even realize that his father was next to him, running a warm hand down his back. But who was driving the car?
“Jason please, you need to breathe. You’re safe now, I’m taking care of you.”
Jason wanted to believe his father, but everything was so loud, and he was shaking so badly.
Jason felt Bruce covering his ears gently. Even though Jason could still hear, he was feeling a bit better. Enough to try and focus on his breathing, led by his father.
He knew he could be okay, he knew he could do it, but his body wasn’t responding. He felt as if his body and his mind were two different things fighting each other and he was in the middle of it.
“Jay, focus on your breathing and nothing else,” he heard Bruce say and understood that he was hyperventilating again. He opened his eyes and tried to find something to focus on as he was breathing slowly.
The fireworks were supposed to get calmer when they left the city to join the Manor, but visibly someone decided to make so fireworks near the Manor too, and Jason tensed immediately. He was supposed to be safe here.
“Please… Please stop the car. I’m gonna… I’m gonna throw up.”
“Jason. Son, we’re almost there…”
“M’gonna… ‘m gonna throw up…”
The car wasn’t even stopped when Jason opened the door and rushed out of it to throw up his light dinner. He was badly shaking and his eyes were filled with tears.
He felt someone running a hand down his back, but he couldn’t really understand what was happening. It was as if his mind was completely out of his body. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
Bruce might have helped him to the Manor because he was barely conscious, too shaken up to walk by himself. His panic stopped immediately and he finally tried to understand where he was, and what was happening. He was surrounded by darkness, and for a moment he thought he finally died and was back in his grave, but he felt something, or more like someone, holding him. He lifted his head and realized that he was in Bruce’s arms.
Am I suddenly deaf? He thought, and his father probably noticed that Jason couldn’t understand what was happening.
“I gave you soundproof headphones” Jason could read on his father’s lips and he finally understood that he wasn’t deaf, nor dead. He was safe.
He met Bruce’s eyes and felt tears rise again. His father got him to safety, he made the noise stop.
“Let’s get some food into you, chum.” Jason read and nodded shakily.
He let his father helping him to the kitchen, where Jason sat on a chair and watched Alfred making dinner slowly. The old butler always had that calming effect on him, because Alfred was always making things so precisely and everything looked so easy with him.
He smiled at the anxious boy and place hot cocoa in front of him: “Drink, that my boy. You’ll feel better.” Jason could read, and he obeyed. He trusts Alfred.
He drank the cup carefully, purring internally when he felt his father going back to petting his hair.
Bruce stayed there the whole time Jason ate his dinner, still running a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp slowly.
After eating, Jason and Bruce went to the latter bedroom and they both laid down on the bed. Jason still couldn’t hear anything, but Bruce made him a sign that the fireworks weren’t over, and Jason nodded slowly. He rested his head on his father’s torso, letting his breathing match his father’s one, and feeling his slow heartbeat calm him down. Bruce was there. Bruce came for him. He was safe.
“Thank you for coming for me.” He mumbled, even if it was disturbing not to hear himself.
If Bruce answered, Jason couldn’t hear, but he felt his father pressing his hand gently: “I’ll always be there.” He seemed to say.
For tonight, it was enough.