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Jason yawns, stretching his body as he awakens. He winces as the side of his body burns in pain, eyebrows furrowed. He tries to grab at his side, opening his eyes to try and see if perhaps he had fallen asleep on something. His vision blurs, clearing into a dark room.
“Aw, fuck,” He murmurs, trying to grab his head when it feels like his brain is being squeezed. His wrist pinches, and he glances down at it, where he sighs.
“Hood. You’re awake.” Jason turns to the voice, sighing again. Dick gawks, his hands hung above his head, as if they knew he was a danger the moment they were on the ground. “Try to look a little happier when you see me!”
Jason hangs his head, trying to block out his older brother’s annoying ass voice. “What happened?”
Dick sobers up, voice grim. “I don’t—I don’t remember.” He tilts his head, blue eyes covered in a domino mask looking around. “Not much, anyways. All I remember is talking to you on a roof before I passed out. I think you tried to catch me?”
Jason huffs, moving his hands around. They don’t do much, just rotate around the cuffs that are bolted to the ground. “Maybe. Your head hurt? ‘Cause mine does.”
Dick shakes his head, sighing. “No. Not a scratch. Maybe you did catch me?”
Jason rolls his eyes. “No. I definitely didn’t.”
Dick smiles, raising his eyebrows. “I totally think you did, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”
“You’re delusional.” Jason laughs, wincing when his laugh pierces his ears.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yeah-huh.”
“Are you two done?” A man asks, and both of them turn their heads to look over towards the dimly lit warehouse, where a man in all black steps into the light. He looks nothing special, just a white man with brown hair and a beard. Jason raises an eyebrow, before turning his head back towards Dick.
“You know ‘im?” He genuinely asks, and Dick shakes his head in response. Jason squints at the man, scooting as close as he can to his cage to get a better look. He raises his voice after a moment. “Who are you?”
Dick lets out a snort, hiding his face by shoving it against one of his hanging arms. He shakes, and Jason just huffs, shaking his head at his brother’s antics.
“You may not know me yet, Red Hood. But soon, everybody will.” The man growls, moving closer towards them, anger evident in his tone and movement. Jason raises his eyebrows.
“You know my name?” He grins, and the man steps until he’s in front of his cage. Jason looks up at him, noting the crisp look of the man’s suit. He’s precise in his moments, too, Jason notices. Somebody who doesn’t mess around. Dangerous.
“Yes,” The man says softly, and Jason shivers. He doesn’t understand why, but this man means danger, in a way that the Joker spelled torture. Perhaps it was the way he moved, or the clothes. Jason couldn’t tell-–but just being near him made Jason tense up.
But Dick must notice Jason’s apprehension, because he straightens up, letting a loose smile grace his face as his eyes harden. “What about me, Mr.? Everyone’s heard of Nightwing, no?”
The man glances over at Dick, raising an eyebrow. “Yes. I am aware of who you are.”
Dick furrows his eyebrows, but the man turns back towards Jason, eyes glinting dangerously. “However, you are only here because of an unforeseen circumstance. I only need Red Hood for my work.”
“Rude,” Dick says, but his eyes follow as the man pulls something out of his pocket. Jason watches warily, about to talk, but stops when Dick continues. “Why do you need him? I’m way more interesting, I swear.”
The man rolls his eyes, pulling out a remote control. Jason curses, trying to backpedal away from the man. Remotes were never a good sign. The man chuckles, clicking a button. Jason jerks at the feeling of his veins going cold, and tries to find where the man must have inserted something in him at one point.
“Nothing you need to worry about, Nightwing.” The man smiles, teeth bared. Dick yells, and Jason starts to feel woozy, his vision going in and out. He struggles to stay awake, but it's a useless endeavor, and after a few more seconds of fighting he drops to the ground, vision going black.
“Sleep tight, Jason.”
—------------------------
He wakes up on a gurney, and he groans, tilting his head to squint away from the bright lights above him. He hears people fighting, and he grogrily sits up, yanking out the iv that is connected to his arm. He glances at the cuts strategically placed around his body, and gags at the thick metallic scent of blood in the air.
He kicks off the shit tying him down, turning to throw up onto the ground, wincing at the sting of bile as it dribbles out of his mouth. He wipes his mouth, trying to stand. He wobbles, grabbing the wall as he tries to guide himself out of the unfamiliar room.
He tries to listen to the sound of gunshots, wincing as his side flares up in pain. He steps quietly, before he finds an open door. He peaks in, shoving himself against the wall when a bullet flies past his face. But the glance had been enough.
Inside was Robin, Red Robin, and Spoiler, all in different positions as they fought. There were men and women inside, all dressed in black as they shot at the vigilantes, the sound deafening to Jason’s headache. He hadn’t caught sight of Dick, and hopes that he’s doing okay. A man runs out of the room, and Jason trips him, but before he can stomp on the man’s head, he’s pulled back.
The man is knocked unconscious by a Bo Staff, and he sighs in relief.
“Jason,” Tim smiles, dropping his blood stained jacket so that Jason can stand on his own again. “We were looking for you. How are you?”
Jason rubs his face, and watches as Tim glances at the lines circling his wrists, to the numerous cuts on his arms and stomach. “As well as I can be.”
Tim grits his teeth. “I’m going to kill him—”
“Nuh-uh,” Jason shushes his younger brother, having to lean on Tim’s legs when he bends down, picking up the two pistols the man that was now passed out on the ground had. He checks the chamber, closing it tight before cocking one of the guns, the other he shoves into his pocket. “I get first dibs.”
“Right.” Tim nods after a second, moving to glance back into the room that he had come out of. “Of course. Sorry.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Ease up, Timmers. I’m too out of it to remember what he even did. Just know it hurts like a bitch.”
“Maybe you should sit this one out then,” Tim says softly, hand on his arm. Jason glares, going to open his mouth and complain, but Tim shakes his head. “Dick told us about a remote control that can control your consciousness. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Jason huffs, rolling his shoulders instead of answering. Tim looks at him, domino mask scrunched up due to the stress on Tim’s face.
“Please? Just—Just stay here, okay? We got this figured out. Steph says they’re almost done.” Tim pleads, wringing his hands in nerves. Jason rolls his eyes, groaning.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll sit here.” Jason glares at Tim, who smiles in relief. “Leave. Before I decide to follow you, consequences be damned.”
“Thanks Jason.” Tim salutes, before running back into the room, yelling as he does so.
Jason pouts, leaning against the wall in irritation. He lets himself slide down the wall, leaning his head against the cold concrete. He fiddles with the gun he had stolen, pulling the bullets out of the chamber as he lines them up against the ground next to the passed out dude next to him. He nudges the man but he doesn’t even mumble, and so Jason moves on, trying to see if he can stack the bullets into a castle.
(The answer is: he can’t. But not for a lack of trying.)
He stops short when the bullets stop flying, the room growing quiet. He hears muffled talking, and leans closer through the opened door.
“You’re gonna regret touching him—“ a voice that oddly sounds like Tim growls, and Jason struggles to stand up, picking up his mess of bullets and trying to shove them back into the gun as fast he can.
He stumbles to his feet, holding his side to lessen the pain. He moves through the open doors, raising his eyebrows as he watches Dick punch the man in the black, his face slapping to the side. He moves into the room, and all four bats turn towards him, tense and ready to fight. Steph is the first to relax, smiling and waving him over.
“Hood! How ya’ doing?” She smiles, and Jason grimaces, moving until he’s close enough to lean against her. She shoulders him, grunting under the weight. “No good, huh?”
Jason groans. “Whatever that fucker did, hurts.”
Damian, who is behind the man that had kidnapped him, rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Maybe if you and Nightwing weren’t idiots, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
Jason huffs. “Not like we asked you to come save us anyways. R-o-b-i-n.”
Damian glares, but Dick places his hand on his shoulders, squeezing lightly. Jason watches as the boy cools down, tense muscles relaxing under his older brother's movements.
“Hood. We have this handled. Spoiler and Red Robin have the Batmobile outside, why don’t you all go sit out there, hmm?” Dick smiles, and Jason rubs his eyes, nodding.
Steph and Tim don’t say anything, but the glares at Dick and the man are enough of a clue that they had wanted to interrogate him. But they stop, instead both of them taking one of his arms, leading him towards the car. He’s pushed in without second thought, and Steph grabs a blanket, tossing it over him. Tim gets to work, pulling out a computer.
“Sleep, Jay,” Steph whispers, rubbing her hand through his hair. “Tim will fix ya’ up.”
Jason sighs, yawning. He doesn’t even try to talk, nodding as he closes his eyes and leans against the leather seats. He feels Tim check his arms and stomach, but this time he falls asleep with no fear.
Just trust that he’ll be okay.
After all, his siblings would always catch him when he fell.
Always.