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There are any number of reasons why Dick volunteers to be the one who takes Jason away from Gotham. There's a compulsive need he feels to see Jason to safety, a twisted fixation that it has to be him. Dick has been burned too many times when it comes to this boy and he can't - he can't - trust anyone with Jason's well-being but himself.
It's an irrational thought, but guilt consumes him the same way shame does and he can't think anything else but how he should have known better.
This isn't the first time Bruce has hurt Jason, nor the second or third. It's not the first time that Dick has let Jason down, either; always too little, too late or not at all.
Dick should have known better.
Dick should have been there.
There are any number of reasons why Dick chose to leave with Jason, but at the forefront is that it wasn't safe. Not for Jason. Not for Dick.
He hasn't been so angry (enraged, anguished, wounded) since Jason was taken from him the first time and Dick feels just as helpless, just as devastated because it's happened again. Time and again Bruce makes his decisions at Jason's expense; time and again Dick isn't there to catch this boy, save this boy.
Dick itches for a fight. There's a tremor in his hands, the phantom pain of bruised bone and split skin. He wants to retaliate; he wants to scream.
Instead, he drives.
Dick volunteers to take Jason away because it's the safest course of action. Like this, Dick can see Jason safe. Like this, Tim and Damian won't have to force Dick away for fear of the damning consequences that would follow once Dick got his hands on Batman.
They're all suffering enough without Dick acting out a crime of passion. He has six hours to cool his head. Six hours to settle his nerves and push down his feelings so that Dick can be there the way he needs to be for the others. He'll settle this affair in Gotham; he'll settle his dues with Bruce and then-
The grip Dick keeps on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. He stares blankly at the road ahead of them, elbow propped on the door, cheek cradled in his hand. His pinky drags across his lower lip. Picking, fidgeting. Biting his nail until it's jagged, until he tastes blood.
Dick stops only when he hears Jason bite back a pitiful whine. It's jarring enough to be distracting. Emotional as Jason can be, sensitive as he is - the vulnerability turns Dick's stomach.
The way Jason has been hurt this time is unforgivable. Everything that has been done to him, taken from him... Jason is all compromised autonomy, crippled in a way that Dick feels sick to think about.
It's a fleeting thought that breaks his heart: death would have been kinder than this.
There's nothing productive to the train of thought, so Dick redirects himself. There's goodness in this if only because Dick can fix it; he can help. He'll make Jason whole again. Damn anything, anyone, that dares to get in Dick's way.
Though he still looks worse for wear, Jason settles beside him. There's still a tremor that racks through his body on occasion, violent flinches that leave Jason knocking against where he presses himself against the passenger side door.
Jason keeps himself small, withdrawn as far away as he can manage. He looks scared; exhausted if only because of the prolonged amount of time he's spent terrorized and distressed by all the things that elevate his heart rate.
(Shifting shadows, the quiet rustle of a cape; soft footsteps and shaking hands patting over him to check for injury. Fussing voices as they all figured what to do, the shatter of a car window and the rush of an engine as Dick hot wired a car to get Jason and him away).
"Talking might distract you." Dick suggests, voice kept forcibly steady. "I don't know how much more stress your heart can take."
"Was fine before you fucking hot wired the car." Jason grumbles. He keeps himself curled into the passenger door, back turned to Dick. The familiar snark in Jason's tone settles Dick's nerves and eases the tension from his shoulders. Exhausted as Jason is, miserable as he must feel, he still has the wherewithal to complain with a gruff, "Don't think my heart rate will ever go down now, dick."
Dick smiles to himself, crooked and boyish. Through that humor he feels - heartbreak. Because even something as simple as the excitement of a crush has been taken away from Jason.
While Dick hums in acknowledgement to Jason's words, he doesn't comment on them. They're not anything Jason meant to say, he knows. Jason has had this crush since a lifetime ago. Dick won't draw attention to it now that Jason, in his exhaustion, unwittingly ousted himself.
"It will." Dick says with a conviction that has Jason's head turning to look back at him. When Dick meets his gaze, Jason shivers, his breath shuddering in his chest and Dick thinks he may feel just as shaken. He looks away, turning his attention back to the road and tells Jason, "I'll make sure of it."
It takes a moment because Jason snaps his mouth shut the moment he starts to stutter, but eventually he manages to quip, "That sounds foreboding as hell."
That Jason manages to find the nerve to be snarky even as his life falls apart - hah! Dick snickers despite how dire their circumstances have become. Jason has always been the bravest of them, the kindest. Dick's opinion on that hasn't changed even with this new development.
"I'll fix this." Dick says although he knows Jason knows what Dick meant. He wants to say it; he wants to be held accountable for it. Dick won't let this boy down again - he'll see him to safety if it's the last thing Dick does. "I swear it."
"Yeah, by sending me into cardiac arrest. Stop that." Jason grunts, hand held to his heart like he might be able to stop it from beating through his chest. Because even a proclamation to be cared for is enough to touch Jason's heart and there's no warmth that registers, only fear.
It's another sobering realization as to just how profoundly Bruce has violated this boy.
"Sorry," Dick says before he can stop himself. His voice breaks partway through and he winces, biting his tongue. When he tries to take a breath, it catches in his throat and Dick chokes on that and so much else as frustrated helplessness overcomes him again.
It's for the better that Dick was the one to volunteer to take Jason away from Gotham no matter how much seeing Jason like this sucks.
"I'm taking you to Kansas." It's an abrupt change in conversation, but Jason deserves to know where they're headed so he's not brought in blind. "Clark and Jon will be there to look after you until I can get back."
"Like a dog being 'taken to the farm.' Great." Jason says. The dark dryness to Jason's sense of humor is nothing new. Usually it makes Dick laugh, but today he grimaces.
"For as much of a bitch as you can be sometimes, no." Dick quips back and Jason laughs, caught off guard but delighted. It eases the tension between them. More than that, it gives Dick hope. "You're going to sit tight. Maybe pet a cow or something. I'll come back for you."
"'Pet a cow.'" Jason huffs, turning to rest his head against the back of his seat and staring dazedly at the dark stretch of road ahead of them. From his peripheral Dick can see the ornery smirk that pulls at the corner of the boy's lips. Even still, Jason catches him by surprise when he jokes, "I'd rather a cock, but okay."
There's no biting back the sputtered laugh Jason's banter inspires. Dick snickers into the palm he'd been resting his head in, reaching out blindly with his other hand to smack Jason lightly in the shoulder before returning it to the wheel.
Wicked boy, Dick thinks to himself. Fond and affectionate and warm. That feeling only grows when he catches Jason tittering over his own joke and Dick swears to himself again: he's going to protect Jason this time. He's going to save him. Do right by him.
Quiet settles between them again, but it's not uncomfortable. One of them occasionally breaks it with small talk - passing commentary on the car Dick hijacked, the current punishment for grand theft auto, and how Jason has a guy for car disposals if Dick needs it.
Dick gets Jason talking about the last book he read; is given an unprompted list of recommendations because Dick needs hobbies unrelated to work. Dick makes no promises to read them, but humors the conversation nonetheless.
At some point, Jason falls into an uneasy sleep. Dick's attention flits to him constantly to make sure he's okay, that he's there, that he hasn't become another ghost. Jason sleeps like he did when he was still young, curled small and defensive. Nothing has changed between then and now: the way Jason sleeps, the way he gets hurt.
Dick turns his head into his hand and breathes slowly to try and hide the shake in it, the clear hitch. His chest hurts. His eyes burn. Through gritted teeth Dick steels himself, thumb tapping with agitation against the steering wheel.
It takes time, but Dick resolves himself between the dark hours of night and sunrise. Watery light filters through the car and Dick is still, the picture of a calm before a storm. Beside him Jason stirs, groggy and then frightful once reality settles and Jason realizes everything that happened wasn't a nightmare or a fever dream.
Dick doesn't outwardly react. He lets Jason settle himself; he gives Jason what privacy he can so that Jason can process and mourn and find his own resolve. It takes more time than it otherwise might have; that's how many things will be from here on. Until they can find out how to make things right, Jason will need to accommodate and adapt. Frustrating as it will be, Dick doesn't doubt he'll manage.
Even still, it's a painful, daunting truth to reckon with.
"Don't tie yourself down to me." Jason breathes, so quiet his voice gives out partway through.
"You're not tying me down." Dick tells him, harsh until he remembers to be soft. He takes a breath, lets it go, and keeps his eyes pointedly on the road although he can feel Jason watching him - considering, waiting.
"Commitment doesn't suit you." He muses.
"Yeah, well fear doesn't suit you, either." Dick quips back, tilting his head enough to offer Jason a crooked smile. Their eyes meet for only a moment before Dick has to look away, turning off of the main road and onto the dirt path that will lead them to safety.
"Your compromised autonomy, my alleged commitment issues-" Jason snorts and Dick's smile softens. There's a light in Jason's eyes that looks wonderfully like hope as Jason continues to look at him. It's something Jason tries to smother, but Dick won't let him. He'll be the hope that Jason needs until Jason can find his own again. "-we'll get through this."