Work Text:
Jason stared at the blade where it lay beside his phone. Focused on the dried blood. His knuckles white from gripping the sink’s edge, skin humming despite the lacerations he’d already carved into it earlier that day to avoid this.
Laughter. Sharp and twisted and slamming into his skull. A migraine. Or was it a crowbar? The humming incessant and growing, desperate and burning. Pit green lurking at the edges of his vision. That, though, that was normal. He could handle that. Images of slit skin and pooling blood, voices that kept saying you deserve this you deserve this you deserve this you deserve this—
Jason swore, eyes snapping shut. Released his death-grip on the sink to bury thumb and forefinger into closed eyelids. His stomach twisting on itself. Aching and screaming at him, too. When did that get bad?
Letting out a guttural groan he lowered his hand. Eyes opening, gaze slowly shifting back. It was so inviting. The blade just sitting there, calling to him. He deserved it, didn’t he? After everything? He’d already given in earlier, anyway.
A smaller voice, one situated at his core, kept him frozen in place. The one whispering you need to call Roy beneath the voices crying out for Jason’s blood. The one telling him he was getting sloppy, that it was affecting his work. That it was due to not having eaten much lately.
It hadn’t been intentional, he argued with himself. Hadn’t been a problem. He just discovered he liked the empty feeling. The dizziness and weightlessness wasn’t so bad either. If he couldn’t fill the void with the Red Hood, couldn’t from tearing himself apart, couldn’t with just being this new mess of a Jason Todd — well, maybe he just had to be even more empty on the inside. Sure, it was getting bad again but everyone thought that Jason was better as far as that went, and he’s not, so how could he just dump all this on Roy who had his own problems? Besides, he deserved this.
Drowning, choking, pushing the small voice away Jason snatched up the blade. Slit skin, pooling blood, and green, green, green flooding his senses as he brought the cold metal to his forearm. Holding his breath, he push—
bzzt.
The vibration brought Jason to a halt. Eyes flicking to where his phone lay facedown, he considered ignoring it.
bzzt.
Still holding the blade, he picked up the phone to check caller ID. A beat passed. Then, small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, put the blade down and swiped to answer.
“Roy.”