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It was dark when Jason opened his eyes.
The kind of darkness that was thick, suffocating, and completely impenetrable. He felt his breath quicken, and he let out an involuntary whimper as he shifted and felt four solid walls surrounding him, leaving him paralyzed.
It happened again.
Were the past ten years even real?
Were they just the dream that a dead boy came up with when he realised he was trapped; buried alive? He was just back in the real world; stuck in his grave, dying a slow and painful death, with no hope of rescue.
Not again.
He banged on the ceiling above him with as much force as he could muster from this angle, feeling the almost therapeutic sting as his skin split open where his fists hit the box. Maybe this was the dream, it’s not like he hadn’t dreamed about this before.
Maybe all these years had been real, and all this was his brain conjuring up his worst memories. He choked out a sob, feeling tears begin to run down his face uncontrollably.
Not again.
There was one more option; one Jason didn’t want to consider, but unfortunately seemed the most likely.
It happened again. He died, and Bruce didn’t cremate him. His dad couldn't do the one thing Jason asked of him, and the universe decided to bring him back again. Another whimper ripped its way out of his throat as he cried out, “Dad!” Desperate for this nightmare to be over.
Not again.
Suddenly a voice sounded in his ear, “Neal? Are you there, Neal?” Jason immediately stilled.
What?
He twisted his body and reached up to touch his ear.
There was a comm. Why was there a comm?
The voice spoke in his ear again, “Neal, are you there? Come in, Neal. We need confirmation, Neal.”
Neal? Why were they asking for Neal?
All of a sudden Jason gasped, and the memories rushed in. He was undercover as Neal Caffrey: conman and forger. He and Peter were chasing Kori Holmes, a forger who’d quickly shown sadistic tendencies. The two of them had cornered her in a warehouse, and they’d only realised as they were being knocked unconscious that she had a partner.
“Neal. Please respond.” Peter was still talking in his ear.
Jason took a steadying breath, “I’m here, Peter.” He whispered into the darkness.
There was a sigh of relief from the other side of the comms, “Thank god. Where are you, Neal? We've been searching for hours; your anklet was cut. Holmes left me with a comm, but nothing came through until you spoke a few minutes ago. We have no idea what her play is. We need your location, and we’ll come get you to plan our next move.”
The sound Jason made in response was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, tears were still running freely down his face and pooling under his head, “Yeah,” Another sob ripped out of him, “That-That’s not gonna happen Peter.”
“Neal? Why not?” Peter said in his ear, sounding concerned.
Jason’s breath picked up again as he tried to force out a response, “She left the comm with you because she wants you to hear me-” He was cut off by another loud sob ripping its way out of him.
“Neal?” Peter said, “Neal, are you okay? What does she want me to hear? What’s your status?”
Jason managed to reign in her crying for long enough to choke out, “I’m buried Peter-” His body convulsed as much as it could in the small space. Peter was speaking again, but Jason was too far gone to hear him. Sobs wracking his body uncontrollably his brain began to play out scenes behind his eyes.
Dick, playfully punching his arm before flipping off a building. Tim, sleep deprived and passed out on various pieces of furniture. Steph, force feeding him waffles on a rough night.
These memories and more ran through his head alongside things that would never happen, things that he never had a chance to do.
Propose to Roy. Actually verbalise his apology to Tim for what happened all those years ago. Call Bruce dad again.
It was too late now, and none of it would ever happen.
He’d lost his chance.
A voice broke through his thoughts suddenly, and abruptly brought him back to the present, “Neal, I need you to breathe.” His consciousness wavered, “Just breathe.” Another sob, “Just breathe with me, Neal.” He heard exaggerated breaths coming from the other end of the line, and Jason tried to match his breathing, feeling his heart rate gradually slow.
As he breathed in and out he felt his brain slowly sharpening, he’d done this before and he could do it again. He took one last deep breath, he’d to save his breath now; the air was already growing thin. Jason was lucky to wake up when he did; the air he’d used already was more than he’d had when he woke up last time.
So… Yay for him.
“Okay. Peter. I’m okay now.” Jaosn heard Peter’s deep sigh of relief on the other end of the line.
“Thank god. Now, can you explain what’s going on?” Peter asked gently.
Jason found himself nodding even though no one was there to see it, “Okay. I was knocked out when you were, and I only just woke up.”
“Where, Neal?” Peter prodded.
Jason took a shaky breath, “I’m buried alive, Peter.”
There was a sharp inhale on the other side of the line, and then some shuffling, “Okay, Neal. Here’s what you need to do. Do you-”
Jason cut him off, “Please don’t, Peter. I-I can't hear you tell me what to do right now.” His breath hitched, “Your voice is the only thing keeping me from spacing out right now...Can you just talk...Tell me a story, something happy. I-I know- I know what to do Peter.” He let out a slightly crazed chuckle, “A-Actually, th-this I-I-Isn’t my… My first time in this, huh, situation. I made it out once.” A tremor wracked his body, “I-I can do it again.”
Jason closed his eyes, clenching and unclenching his fists to calm himself. Peter spoke in his ear, “Neal…”
He clenched his fists so tight that he smelled the sharp metallic tang of blood, but his hands felt nothing, “Peter please.” He whispered, begging his friend to just go with it.
“O-okay, Neal. I-I will. How about I tell you about when me and El got Satchmo…”
Peter had been speaking for about 20 seconds when Jason finished collecting himself enough to start moving. Last time, all he’d had on him that would work was his belt, but he was hoping that Kori hadn’t pat him down.
He smiled, relieved when his hand came across one of his many pocket knives. He reached slightly further and felt the reassuring cool metal of his gun, a huge amount of pressure lifted off his chest, and he felt his tears return. If he couldn’t get out then he could still end it. He didn’t have to die like this; he could go out on his own terms.
An idea suddenly sparked to life in the back of Jason’s brain, and he reached around to the back of his jacket; Peter’s story was providing a soothing background noise, and helping keep his panic at bay. Suddenly his fingers brushed plastic, and Jason let out a shocked chuckle; he couldn't believe it.
They’d missed his phone.
He pulled it out and clicked the power button, bringing the screen to life, “Peter!” He said suddenly, causing the man to pause his story.
“Neal?” Peter asked, his tone uncertain.
“Peter. They...They missed my phone!” Jason was sobbing again; this time though, it was tears of relief rather than desperation.
Jason heard Peter breath in a sharp breath, “Neal... We-we can’t track that. I’m so sorry.”
Jason chuckled, “I know, Peter. I know, but if I can call my dad... He can. They can find me, Peter. I'm going to be okay.” Jason was working himself into a slightly manic state.
“Neal, you need to calm down. If you can call someone then you should do that, but you need to keep trying to get yourself out.” Peter said gently.
Jason started taking deep breaths again as he tried to find Bruce’s contact in his phone. His hands were shaking so hard that he missed the call button several times before he managed to finally hit it. The phone rang, and Jason held his breath.
Pick up, pick up, pick up.
Bruce answered the phone
This time Batman wasn’t too late.
Jason was saved.
Jason went home.