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Jason had no idea how long he’d been held captive. His captors were beating him senseless for what felt like an hour, or maybe two. There was one small window near the ceiling of the room he was in, but it was still hard to tell how much time had passed. Judging from the thug’s annoyance and weakening of their hits, they seemed to have been at it for a while, probably around an hour.
Jason had been captured while trying to take out the warehouse of a gang that was trying to take over crime alley.
Normally, he wouldn’t let some D-list gang get the jump on him, but they had a hostage this time. It was just a kid, no older than twelve years old. The leader had dragged her in with a gun pointed to her head. Judging from the fresh bruise on her cheek, those fuckers had already proved they weren’t afraid to hurt her. Jason had dropped his guns without hesitating.
Now, he was tied to a chair with nothing but the clothes he wore under his armour and domino mask. His head pounded. He could still feel the wound at the back of his head sluggishly bleeding, sending rivulets of blood down his neck.
He remembered being immediately surrounded by more armed gang members. They’d made him remove his helmet, which was then followed by one of them hitting him in the back of the head with their gun. The last thing he’d seen before he lost consciousness was the gang leader shoving the girl away, and her running as fast as she could.
The gang members had been beating the crap out of him ever since he gained consciousness. Most of his body and his face were beginning to ache. He was sure that his nose was broken by now, and definitely a few of his ribs. Of course it hurt, but Jason had been through worse torture. It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle a few punches and kicks.
The thugs were trying to interrogate him between each hit. They asked the standard questions to find out how Jason got his intel, but Jason had the feeling that most of them just liked beating him up. After all, he did destroy half of their operations and had gotten multiple members of the gang arrested. But Jason refused to say a word no matter how much they hit him.
The sound of the door opening abruptly snapped Jason back to the present. He looked up to see the gang leader entering the room–he had the same cold smile on his face that he had when he had that gun pointed at the kid's head.
“Is he cooperating now?” the leader asked, a hint of intimidation in his voice.
“Nah boss, he hasn’t said a word. And we’ve been beatin’ him for over an hour now!”
Jason couldn’t help but smirk at that, which earned him a sharp punch to the gut.
“No, of course he won’t,” the leader said, heaving an impatient sigh as he made his way over to where Jason was tied, still hunched over from the punch he’d received. “The usual methods won’t work on someone like the Red Hood.”
Jason grimaced as the leader grabbed a fistfull of his hair and pulled his head up so that he was forced to meet the asshole’s eyes.
“I consider myself to be a reasonable man, so I’ll give you one more chance to answer my questions about your intel on us before things get ugly,” the leader said coldly.
Jason couldn’t help but smile. “Do your worst.”
The leader shoved his head back and turned away to his henchmen.
“Hold him still. He’s going to regret messing with my operations.”
Jason snarled at the thugs but they ignored him. He looked up to see the man holding a needle right above his arm. Cold dread started to overwhelm him. He had no idea what kind of drug was in that needle and he really didn’t want to find out.
Putting in all his might, Jason began to struggle against the restraints and the henchmen holding him still. If there was a time to try to escape, it was right about now.
Unfortunately, his struggling got him nowhere. Within seconds, Jason felt a sharp pinch in his right arm. Once the leader had injected all of the contents of the needle into Jason’s system, he stepped back with that cold smile still on his face.
Jason did his best to stay calm, trying to keep his breathing under control even when it made his ribs light up in pain. It wasn’t the first time he’d been injected with an unknown substance. Usually it was just a sedative, but other times it was something like concentrated fear gas. That was never fun to go through. But at the end of the day, he would just have to deal with it—and he would always pull through. All Jason could do now was prepare himself for the worst.
And then everything started to fade around him. He was hardly aware of his surroundings, much less able to think straight. The pain from his various injuries was gone, all the tension drained out of him. And strangely enough he felt… happy.
It was a kind of happiness he’d never experienced before. He felt like there was nothing wrong in his life, like he was truly at peace. For once he didn’t feel burdened by anything, and it felt good. It was like being wrapped in a thick and warm blanket, comfortable without it feeling overwhelming. His head became fuzzy and he felt like he was completely out of it. He briefly wondered if he was smiling like an idiot, but then he realized that he was past the point of caring.
Now he was starting to feel tired, but not the aching and exhausting tiredness he was used to. This type of tiredness felt like he was slowly melting, like he was about to have the best sleep of his life. Jason didn’t try to fight it. He didn’t see why he should. Instead, he let himself fade into unconsciousness.
He couldn’t have fought the feeling of pure bliss even if he tried.
Jason woke up to the aching pain of his injuries, especially the throbbing from the broken ribs and the concussion he most likely had. He groaned as he tried to remember what happened. Things were still fuzzy, but his memories began to resurface from his pain-filled haze. He remembered being taken captive by the gang he’d been trying to take out. Then they’d most likely beaten the crap out of him for a while. He’d pissed off the gang leader, and then he remembered there was a needle–which was injected into him. Then he had felt overly happy and relaxed, and the pain from his injuries had vanished.
Jason’s blood ran cold as he put the pieces together. They’d fucking drugged him with an opioid .
He wasn’t sure why the gang leader had wanted to give him the opioid in the first place. They had been torturing him before the needle came out, and judging from what he could make of his injuries they hadn’t gone far enough with their beating that he would need a pain killer. They must have just used it as a sedative, but still it seemed pointless to waste their product like that.
He had no idea what kind of opioid he’d been given. He knew that this gang in particular trafficked various kinds of opioids throughout Gotham, but why dose him? He must have been so out of it, he didn’t even remember passing out.
Jason hated himself for it, but a part of him missed the high. He’d never felt that relaxed and euphoric before. He always tried to avoid morphine and other strong painkillers as much as he could—and there was a good reason for that. He’d seen what drugs like that could do to people, and he had sworn that he would never put himself through that.
Jason looked around at his surroundings. He seemed to be in a dark cellar, chained to the wall. There was no way he could try to escape right now, not with his injuries and lack of gear. He hadn't even had time to call for help before he’d been knocked out. His only hope was to either bide his time and find a way to escape or to hope that the bats would notice that he was missing and come looking for him.
Jason leaned back against the wall, trying to ignore the uneasiness building inside of him. What had he gotten himself into?
After what felt like several hours, some of the gang members came back to drag him out of the cellar and go back to beating him up. It wasn’t the worst torture he’d faced, but that didn’t mean it sucked any less. Again he ignored that small, annoying part of him that missed the effects of the drug. Just like the last time, the gang members got to beating him up until the gang leader eventually joined them. Just like last time, he’d asked Jason how he knew about his operations.
This time Jason didn’t bother to give him a response, much less meet the leader's eyes. In response, he was injected again. He didn’t even bother to fight against his restraints again, what was the point? It wouldn’t change what was going to happen to him. There was a part of him that just wanted to be pain free and thoughtlessly accept the drug, but he pushed it aside. He was still being drugged against his will.
Like before, the opioid acted fast. Only this time it didn’t give him the same level of euphoric bliss. It did numb the pain from his new and old injuries and it made him feel tired like before.
As much as he wanted to, Jason didn’t have the strength to fight it. Between the multiple beatings he’d received and the drug itself, Jason felt completely worn out. It felt much better to give in to the warmth and comfort. Jason closed his eyes and let the world melt around him.
The cycle continued. They’d beat Jason up, drug him, and then leave him in his cell for an unknown amount of time. It might have gone on for days, maybe even weeks. Jason had no way of keeping track of the time, and it was hard to tell with how much time he spent unconscious. They didn’t bother with feeding him, they just gave him some water, and even then they were inconsistent with that.
The only thing he knew was that they were giving him the drug on a fairly regular basis. As much as he despised himself for it, he almost looked forward to being drugged. At least then it was an escape from pain and uncertainty. Even without the drug he’d been zoning out, sure it didn’t help him with trying to plan his escape but it helped him get some reprieve from the pain of his injuries and his own mind torturing him.
Until one day they didn’t. They tortured him like normal, attempted to interrogate him, but this time he wasn’t injected with anything. They just threw him unceremoniously into the dark and dusty cellar and left him there, not even bothering to restrain him before they’d left.
It worried him. As much as he preferred being completely lucid and not having opioids forced into his system, he missed the numbness the drug had brought him. Not only did it dull the pain of his injuries, but it also calmed his thoughts. Now even the slightest movements sent spikes of pain through him, and it was exhausting. His racing thoughts didn’t help him calm down either.
Never in his life had he ever felt that peaceful, after everything he’d been through it felt welcome.
But peaceful wasn’t something that he could afford to feel right now, not with the constant torture and the opioids they were forcing into him.
Without the drug in his system, his injuries were beginning to scream at him. But the pain and lucidity kept his mind sharp, and he could finally try to plan his escape. With his current injuries, there was no way he could make it to the cellar door. It was most likely locked, anyway. His best bet was to wait for the next time the gang members would drag him back upstairs or force him to drink water. As much as he hated it, he needed to wait and remain on guard. He knew what was coming, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
And then the withdrawal hit. It was like having the worst flu of Jason’s life. Throwing up, sweating, feeling feverish, muscle aches, and chills– fuck, he’d gotten to experience all the fun effects of withdrawal. The chills were the worst part for Jason, because they didn’t seem to stop and they only made his injuries worse. All he could do was curl in on himself as the shivers wracked his body. The coolness of the stone tiles below him did little to help with the chills.
It wasn’t like Jason wasn’t familiar with the symptoms of opioid withdrawal. He’d seen his mother go through it so many times. All those nights of her shivering and throwing up while he held her hair back and did his best to comfort her… sometimes she’d be completely unresponsive, and no matter what Jason would do she’d just lie there, lost in her pain-filled delirium.
During some of her worst nights, Jason would always be afraid that she’d end up dying from how much pain she was in, so he’d stay with her the entire time and take care of her as much as he could. He would also make sure to count each stuttering breath she took, terrified that she’d end up succumbing to the pain.
Yet in the end, it wasn’t the withdrawal that killed her. Instead she had ended up overdosing. Jason must have spent hours trying to wake her up before he realized she was really gone this time.
Roy had also told him about his experiences with his addiction, about how he had gone through withdrawal by himself. Roy had told him that it was like going through hell. He had genuinely believed he was going to die at some points through the course of his withdrawal.
And now Jason had to experience withdrawal and all its symptoms for himself. Fan-fucking-tastic .
The sound of the cellar door creaking open startled Jason. He managed to lift his head up to see the gang leader walking towards him, the stairs creaked with each step of his heavy boots.
There was no point in trying to act intimidating or defiant now. Jason probably looked absolutely pathetic with the way he was shaking and curled in on himself.
“Heroin withdrawal is quite nasty, isn’t it, Hood?” the leader said, condescendingly. “I’m well aware of every effect of my drugs, good or bad. Afterall, a good businessman should know his own product.”
Normally the smug nature and tone of the gang leader would make Jason want to intentionally piss the guy off just to wipe that asshole smirk off his face. But with how shitty Jason felt, all he could do was look down. He knew things were bad for him when he couldn’t even come up with a witty or snarky response.
The next thing Jason knew, the leader had a fistful of his hair and was forcing Jason to meet his eyes. Jason’s reaction time must be fucked, too—normally he would have seen that coming before the gang leader even moved his hand.
“Now are you willing to tell me what you know about my operations?” the leader snapped.
“Screw you,” Jason said coldly. It had taken all his strength to say those words alone, yet that still made him feel slightly better despite how weak he felt.
The gang leader released Jason and scowled at him. “Fine. You’ll break eventually. They always do,” he said, cold as ever, as he turned away from Jason.
The next thing Jason knew, he could feel the familiar pinch of a needle in his arm. He hadn’t even noticed the gang leader's henchmen enter the room. Jason felt pathetic for not even being able to pick up on something as simple as that. Bruce had trained him to always be aware of his surroundings, especially when he was in a situation where he was being held captive. It was the most basic yet important thing he’d learned. Now he couldn’t even do that.
What would Bruce say if he could see him now? He’d be disappointed. No… he would be ashamed. How could Jason ever look him in the eyes again?
The drug was starting to muddle his thoughts, and Jason was past the point of even thinking of fighting it. With the numbness came an end to his pain, to the effects of withdrawal. At this point Jason just wanted it all to be over. The white spots began to take over Jason’s vision, and he hated himself for welcoming it.
To say Dick was in over his head would be an understatement. The warehouse across from him was swarming with armed men, stationed at every possible entrance. This was going to be a lot harder than he was expecting.
Before Dick could even try to come up with a feasible plan, he was startled by the appearance of Cass next to him.
“Now I know how Gordon feels,” Dick muttered. He was sure Cass was smirking even though he couldn’t see her face.
“Don’t be stupid. Don’t go in there alone,” Cass said firmly.
Dick knew Cass was right, and he was sure she didn’t mean to sound so harsh. Jason going missing had put the entire family on edge.
No one thought much of it the first week, as it was normal for Jason to drop off the grid for whatever reason. By the second week, however, they’d all started to get worried. Dick and Tim had searched Jason’s safe houses and there was no sign of him. He’d even tried contacting Roy and the outlaws but they hadn’t heard from him either. After some digging, Dick managed to find the case that Jason was working on. It appeared that Jason had gone missing after trying to take out one of the warehouses of the gang he was going after.
From there, Dick had discovered there was only one witness: a child they’d held hostage. After finding her, he’d tried to speak to the girl but she was still pretty shaken. After some coaxing, she told him what she knew.
The rest of the investigation was fairly easy after that. It wasn’t hard to find the other warehouses that were owned by the gang.
Which was where they were now, eyeing the guards. If this gang had managed to take Jason hostage, it wouldn’t be smart to just go in alone. Dick was happy to have Cass helping him with this.
Thankfully, the security that was posted at the warehouse was no match for Dick and Cass combined. Before he knew it, they had both taken out all the guards protecting the entrances to the warehouse. They made their way inside, taking out anyone in their way.
Once they came to the cellar entrance, they decided to split up to cover more ground. Dick decided to go inside the cellar while Cass investigated the rest of the building. Dick opened the door to the dark space, thankful that his mask had night vision.
For the most part, it looked like any ordinary cellar, with lots of barrels and other containers stacked against walls. What caught his eye, however, were the chains attached to the back wall. Dick frowned and made his way over to investigate them. As he got closer, he could make out a figure lying crumpled near the wall. They appeared to be still, and curled in a fetal position. Dick’s mind immediately started running through the worst case scenarios, but he pushed them aside.
He cautiously made his way over to the still person, looking out for any henchman hiding among the containers. Once they were close enough to touch, he carefully turned them over.
As soon as he saw their face, he couldn’t suppress a gasp.
“Jason?” he asked. His brother was completely lifeless and pale, and he was unresponsive to Dicks voice. Dicks throat tightened—his thoughts began racing again. No, he couldn’t be too late. He couldn’t have let Jason die alone again.
Dick’s fingers shook as he began to frantically press against Jason’s neck to search for a pulse, sighing in relief when he found one. It was weaker than normal but it was there .
Dick looked over Jason’s injuries. Most of them seemed relatively mild, but there were some more serious injuries like broken ribs and a potential fracture in his leg. He also had several bruises and minor cuts. His face in particular was badly bruised, it was really only the slightly blood stained streak of white in his hair that helped Dick recognize him. Jason’s skin felt clammy and warm. Was he sick, too?
Either way, Jason’s injuries needed attention right away. And he needed to be examined in an environment that was cleaner and better lit.
Dick gently began to lift Jason up by putting an arm under his legs and the other around his shoulders, staggering a little from his weight. Dick always found it so hard to believe that Jason was bigger than him now. He remembered when Jason was just under five feet tall—sometimes it felt like just yesterday, even though so much had changed.
Once Dick got out of the cellar he found Cass waiting for him just outside the door, several unconscious gang members behind her. Cass immediately began to look over Jason’s injuries, but she tensed after less than a minute.
“Look,” she said. Her voice filled with cold anger as she showed Dick Jason’s arm.
Dick felt his blood run cold when he saw the small red dots covering Jason’s arm, right where his vein was. Some of them looked fresher than the others.
Those marks were familiar to him. He’d seen them on Roy when he was struggling with addiction. These assholes had been drugging his brother .
This made things a lot more complicated. Neither of them knew what he was drugged with, and until they could do a blood test they wouldn’t be able to give him any pain medication in case it interacted badly with whatever was in his system.
It’s not like Jason would want to be given any more drugs after what he’d been through, anyway. Jason always hated taking strong pain medication, no matter how badly he was hurt. Dick knew why: It had taken him a while to find out more about Jason’s past after he had first come to the manor, but after a while, the truth had been revealed.
The sound of distant police sirens made Dick snap back to the present. No point in sticking around here .
“We’ll head to one of Hood’s safe houses,” Dick said. As much as he wanted to bring Jason to the cave or Leslie’s clinic, he knew that Jason wouldn’t be happy about it. And he’d probably try to escape like he’d done in the past. He was a flight risk at the best of times.
One of them could take a blood sample from Jason and bring it to the cave to see what he’d been drugged with. It might not be the most logical solution but with the state Jason was in, it seemed like the best course of action.
Despite the ache in his arms from hauling around Jason's deadweight, Dick felt like he was on autopilot as he set to work evaluating his brother's injuries. The ride from the warehouse to Jason’s safehouse had been stressful, and he’d nearly stopped several times just to make sure Jason was still breathing, but somehow Dick managed to get Jason to their destination without any major mishaps. Cass was already waiting for them by the entrance when they arrived—she took one of Jason’s arms as soon as Dick slid the two of them off the bike, and helped him get Jason inside.
It had only been an hour since they got there, but it felt like an eternity. Every mark on his brother’s skin was like another weight on Dick’s chest.
He had a few broken ribs, a broken nose, and a fractured ankle. He was also covered in various bruises and minor cuts, and some of his injuries looked older than others. His skin felt feverish and clammy, it was likely that he’d gotten sick from whatever those fuckers had drugged him with.
Dick gritted his teeth. His brother had been getting tortured and drugged by this gang for two weeks. Two weeks of no one knowing what happened to Jason, or trying to look for him.
Breathe, Dick , he reminded himself. The guilt churning in his stomach would do nothing to fix this situation. It didn’t matter where he went wrong, but right now Jason needed his help. There was still the matter of what exactly Jason had been drugged with—that was more important.
Dick got Cass to help him take a blood sample from Jason, thankful that he remained unconscious the whole time.
Dick had asked Cass to bring the sample to the cave and get it tested. If anyone could get in and out of the cave without being spotted, it was her. She had just nodded before leaving with the blood sample.
Now it was just him and Jason. He was sitting in a chair next to Jason’s bed, keeping vigil. There wasn’t much else Dick could do except make sure Jason’s vitals remained steady and wait for him to wake up.
It was unnerving to see someone as strong as Jason look so small and fragile. Aside from all his visible bruises, he was completely pale. The shallow rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that he was alive.
Seeing Jason like this… Dick ran a hand down his face. He felt like he had let his brother down. How could he have gone two weeks without even questioning where Jason was? If he’d looked into it sooner, maybe he could have at least spared Jason some of the pain he had gone through.
The worst part about it all was that Dick didn’t even know the full extent of what Jason’s capture had entailed. Hopefully the blood sample would help him figure it out.
Later during the night, Jason began to stir. He mumbled incoherently, frowning.
“It’s alright, Little Wing. You’re safe, I promise,” Dick soothed as he brushed Jason’s sweat-soaked bangs away from his face. Hazy teal eyes seemed to stare through him, and after a few seconds they fluttered closed again.
That was okay. Jason having even a few seconds of consciousness was better than nothing. Hopefully it was a sign that he would be alright.
Before he knew it, Dick could feel his own eyes getting heavy. He closed his eyes and let sleep take over.
“It’s… heroin,” Dick said softly as he examined the results of the blood testing.
Cass nodded, her expression grim. “It was in his blood for weeks,” she said.
The very thought of that made Dick feel sick. Out of every other possible drug, it had to be heroin. The same drug Jason’s mom had struggled with, that she had died from.
Being forcefully drugged over and over again with heroin must have been unimaginably traumatic for Jason. Jason hated pain medication—no matter how badly he was hurt, he always refused strong painkillers like opioids. He was going to be in rough shape once he woke up.
But Dick would be there for him, they all would. Jason needed his family more than ever now.
“The effects of withdrawal will be hard on him, but he’s going to try to push us away,” Dick said. “Maybe he does need to go to the cave.”
Cass put a hand on his shoulder. “We will figure it out,” she said. “We should stay.”
Dick nodded. She was right, there was no way either of them would leave Jason to go through withdrawal alone. Roy had told Dick what it was like to have to suffer through that with no one by his side, and Dick refused to put Jason through that. But at the same time, Dick didn’t want to overwhelm Jason while he was already in a vulnerable state.
Dick looked back into the room where Jason was sleeping. His face was still tense, beaded with sweat.
“Alright,” Dick said. “We’ll see how he is when he wakes up.”
It took several hours of Jason shivering and mumbling incoherently before his eyes began to flutter open. He groaned and tried to sit up, but Dick gently placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder to stop him.
“It’s okay, Jason. You’re safe, you’re in one of your safe houses,” Dick said.
Surprisingly, Jason didn’t try to fight him off. He laid back down and blinked a couple times, still clearly out of it.
“How are you feeling?” Dick asked after a moment.
“Feel like I’m gonna be sick,” Jason muttered softly.
Dick immediately grabbed a nearby trash can and propped Jason up. He put the trash can in front of Jason just before he began to throw up. Dick rubbed soothing circles on his back, making sure to avoid any injuries.
“It’s alright, Jay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Dick soothed. He moved his hand up Jason’s back to card through his hair, unsure if his attempts at being comforting were having any effect. He didn’t think so—Jason’s eyes were still hazy and unfocused.
“This… fucking sucks,” Jason groaned, once he was able to talk again.
Dicks heart hurt to see Jason like this. It was like all of Jason’s pain was being reflected back at him. He knew it was bad because usually Jason hid or downplayed how bad things were when he was hurt in any way.
“I know, Little Wing,” Dick said as he set aside the trash to brush Jason’s hair out of his eyes.
Jason just sighed and leaned into his touch, something he wouldn’t normally do unless things were bad.
“Why don’t you get some more rest?” Dick asked.
Jason nodded and laid back down. He had already closed his eyes.
Dick pulled the blankets over Jason and reached over to brush his hair back again. For as long as he had known Jason, he’d always scoffed and acted like someone petting his hair didn’t soothe him. Yet every time, he would always melt into it.
He was still feverish, the symptoms of withdrawal still in full force. He probably had a few more days of suffering before they would taper off again.
Dick sat in the chair by Jason’s bed and carded his hand through his hair until his breathing evened out. Then he sighed, rubbing at his gritty eyes.
The next few days were going to be rough on all of them.
Things only went downhill from there.
It became clear in a few hours that Jason’s condition was worsening. He couldn’t keep anything down, wracked with nausea, and his injuries were constantly aggravated by the vomiting and chills. When he was awake, he didn’t make sense—when he managed to sleep, he seemed restless, his features tense as he muttered incoherently. It was like a really bad flu, but with every symptom cranked up to eleven.
They couldn’t give him any medications out of fear that it would have an adverse effect on him. The most they could do was attach an IV to him to get some fluids into him.
It pained Dick to have to see the full extent of Jason was going through. Especially since there wasn’t much Dick could do to comfort him, not even carding through his hair seemed to work.
Even though Cass and Jason didn’t always get along, it was clear she was worried about him. She was with Jason just as frequently as Dick was, often the one getting cold compresses for him and soothing him through the worst of his nightmares.
It was exhausting for both of them, even if neither of them were willing to admit it. They knew whatever Jason was going through was much worse than what they were feeling—but it had now been three days since they’d rescued him, and he showed no signs of being done with withdrawal.
During one of the rare times when Jason was coherent, Dick had tried to convince him to go to Leslie’s clinic or the batcave. Jason, however, had vehemently refused.
“No way,” he’d snapped. “You can’t drag me to the fucking cave.”
“This is stupid, now is not the time to be stubborn, Jason,” Dick had reprimanded.
Jason just glared at him in response. Until Dick added that he could just call Bruce and get him to come here. And at that moment all of Jason’s anger had faded.
“No, please Dick,” he had begged, “I don’t want anyone else to see me like this.”
It was heartbreaking for Dick to hear the exhaustion and pain in Jason’s voice. Even though he could understand why Jason wanted to avoid the rest of the family finding out, he still thought Jason should have more support when dealing with something as difficult as withdrawal.
“You know none of us would ever judge you, Jason,” Dick said. “None of this is your fault, and we’re all here for you.”
“Please,” was all Jason said. His eyes were already starting to close again.
“Okay, I won’t call him. We’ll figure this out together,” Dick said. He had no idea if Jason could hear him anymore, but he would do everything he could to make sure that Jason knew that. The only thing that bothered him now, was how they were going to get through this without Bruce.
“I think we should call Bruce,” Dick said. It was one of the rare moments where he and Cass were alone, as Jason was fast asleep.
Cass seemed to freeze for a moment. “Not a good idea,” she said with a frown. “He doesn’t want that.”
Dick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know, Cass. It’s just… I don’t know if Jason is going to get worse or better. I feel like he should be somewhere where he can get the care he needs.”
They might not have a choice if Jason got any worse. They didn’t have the supplies to help him here–if Jason got any worse or ended up dying from withdrawal, Dick would never forgive himself. Watching him have to suffer through this was bad enough, honestly.
It made Dick feel powerless. He wanted to do whatever it took to make sure Jason wouldn’t be in pain anymore, and so that he could feel better. But could he do that if it meant going against what Jason wanted? Sure, Jason would be pissed at him for a long time. But he could handle that if it meant Jason would be safe.
Cass placed a hand on his arm, “We’ll figure it out, but he needs us right now.”
The look of determination in her eyes was enough to convince Dick.
“Alright, we’ll keep him here,” he said. He glanced over to the room where Jason was sleeping. He wasn’t shaking as badly now—if it wasn’t for the tense look on his face, he would almost look peaceful.
Dick hoped he was making the right decision, not just for them but especially for Jason.
It felt strange to be even more exhausted after waking up, but after the month he’s had, Jason shouldn’t have been surprised. At least he did wake up—there was a moment there when he wasn’t sure he would. Things were still fuzzy, but he did remember brief glimpses of Dick and Cass worrying over him.
Sitting up still hurt, even if it wasn’t as painful as before. It made most of his injuries light up like fireworks. He had to pause to get his breathing under control.
It was as he counted his inhales and exhales that the full realization of what had happened to him hit him. He’d been drugged. Against his will. With heroin. And then, because that clearly wasn’t enough, he’d spent the last few days (weeks?) having to experience all the fun withdrawal symptoms, like puking up his guts and being unable to stop shivering. Worst of all, though, was the fact that Dick and Cass were there to witness it.
A small, nagging part of him told him that none of his siblings would ever judge him for something he couldn’t control. It didn’t make him feel any better. Ideally, no one would have had to see him in a position that vulnerable.
After a moment or so Jason made his way to the bathroom to try and freshen up. It took him longer than normal to try and make his way there. He’d nearly lost his balance a few times before he managed to grab the bathroom counter to steady himself.
He looked like a mess, with his hair tangled and matted and his skin pale and sweaty. There were dark circles under his red rimmed eyes, which reflected just how exhausted he still was. For a second it was almost like it was Catherine staring back at him through the mirror. He pushed the image of his mom out of his head and turned away from the mirror.
He wondered if his siblings were still here. He wouldn’t blame them if they ended up leaving.
Jason made his way into the living room, still having to hold onto the walls to keep his balance. He was still a little shaky, which was fun. Judging from his open blinds, it looked like it was morning. Since he got captured, Jason honestly had no clue what day it was. It made things pretty disorienting. World war three could have broken out and he wouldn’t have known.
He spotted Cass on his couch, fast asleep. Dick was sitting next to her, reading one of his books from his shelf. Once he noticed Jason, he immediately put the book down and got up.
“Hey, how are you feeling, Jay?” he asked, trying to check Jason’s temperature while steering him into a chair.
Jason didn't have the strength to bat his hand away. “Well, I’ve been worse,” he muttered. He could tell he didn't sound convincing. Even his voice lacked its usual confidence.
“You know you don’t have to pretend to be okay, right?” Dick asked, worrying at his bottom lip. “What happened to you was fucked up, I know it can’t be an easy thing to go through. You have a right to be pissed. If only I had gotten there sooner...”
As he trailed off, Jason couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under Dicks eyes. It made Jason’s stomach twist with guilt. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden. To be so vulnerable, stripped of his usual self-defence mechanisms.
“It happened. There’s nothing you could have done, Dick. You can’t blame yourself for that. Besides, I think the worst of it is over now. I’ll be okay.”
Just from listening to himself speak, Jason could tell he didn’t sound believable. And the look on Dicks face confirmed it.
“I hope so,” Dick said as he glanced away, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Jason… you know Bruce will find out eventually, right? You can’t hide this from him forever.”
The words made Jason freeze. It was an eerie feeling, similar to the one he had all those years ago when Bruce caught him trying to steal the batmobile tires. It made him want to run and hide, just like back then.
Instead he breathed out, too exhausted to argue.
“I’m sure he will, but Dick… I just… I can’t face him right now. Not right now,” Jason said. He hated the hint of desperation in his voice.
Dick put a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I won’t force you to talk to him right away, just… try to talk to him eventually, please? He would never judge you for this. Sometimes he does a shitty job of showing it, but he cares a lot, trust me.”
From the corner of his eye, Jason could see Cass getting up from the couch. She made her way over to him and looked him over.
“We’re all here, always,” she said. Her dark eyes burned with love and determination, and Jason felt himself surrendering when she pulled him and Dick into a hug, careful of Jason’s injuries.
The embrace was familiar, Cass’ strong arms and the scent of that fancy shampoo Dick used. For the first time in weeks, Jason felt safe. He knew it wouldn’t erase all the pain and trauma he’d gone through, that he’d likely have to deal with the aftermath of what happened to him for a long time, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he just felt… nice. After all the pain he’d gone through it felt nice to be cared for like this, to know that his family would be there for him no matter what.
Things were far from okay for Jason, but right now he felt safe. Like he could breathe again. For the first time in a long time, Jason felt optimistic. He didn’t have to worry about what would come next when he had the people he cared about with him.
Maybe hope wasn’t such a bad thing to have.