Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason was late. He knew he was late, but he had been across town when the call for backup came. Yet somehow he was still the closest to the scene.

Tim had been on a case tracking down a lead to a possible drug trafficking ring, when the mission went to shit and a fire had broken out in the apartment complex he was investigating. Being Gotham, nothing was up to the fire code nor had a sufficient number of fire escapes, so the recon mission had very quickly turned into a fire rescue mission.

Jason arrived on the scene, dashing through firefighters working their hoses and Police officers holding back bystanders.

Several emergency workers briefly tried to stop him as he sprinted by, before recognizing who he was. As much as Gotham PD disowned the vigilantes, they were always more than eager for their help when disaster struck.

"Red, I'm here, what's your location." Hood panted between breathes." The building he now stood before was half engulfed in flames. Smoke billowed out the windows of the middle floors, and the structure ominously creaked. The spray from the fire hoses was doing little to stop the blaze and was more to prevent the spread to neighboring buildings.
"..." Nothing was heard aside from the normal static over the comms.

"Oracle?" Jason asked, surveying the chaos around him, desperately hoping for a familiar bird to pop up out of the chaos.

"His tracker is reading still in the building." Oracle said, voice tight with worry. "Structural integrity is at 60% and falling."

"Any civilians left inside?" Jason asked.

"Unclear. Power has been cut, and the cameras are non functional. Last update from Red was he was evacuating a pair of children. That was 5 minutes ago." Oracle said, in the background her fingers clicked away on the keyboard.

Another crash as another piece of the building gave way followed by the panicked shouts from the growing crowd of bystanders.
"Red, status now, or I'm coming in after you." Jason practically growled.

He cursed at the silence before charging into the building.

__________________________________

Jason dashed through the crumbling excuse of a building, dodging the falling beams and weakened floor boards. He was extremely grateful for the air filters built into his helmet that filtered out the smoke however it did little to improve his visibility in the smoky haze.

"Red! Where are you at?" He shouted, hoping he could be heard over the crackling flames and groaning wood.

He was relieved to hear a faint, "Here!" As he rounded the stairway to the 3rd floor.

His relief quickly fizzled out when he finally laid eyes on his brother.
Red Robin was carrying a young boy, no older than 6 down the stair case. The child clung desperately to his soot stained uniform, face buried in his cape against the heat of the flames. Tim's face was covered in soot, which was only interrupted by the thin lines of sweat. His breathing was rough from both the effort of carrying the child and the fact that he had given his air filter to said child.

At this rate, Jason doubted he was making it to safety before passing out.

Without a second thought, Jason reached into his utility belt (thank you trademark bat paranoia ) and pressed another air filter against his brother's face.
"Where's your back up, idiot." Jason asked.

"Gave it to the last kid." Tim said, gratefully sucking in the clean air.
Jason shook his head with disapproval. Kid had 0 self preservation instincts, not that Jason was one to talk. However, they had bigger problems currently.

"Any more civilians up here?" Jason asked.

"One more kid up top, room 305." Tim said, shifting the kid on his hip.

"Ok, I'll get them and meet you down below."

"Be careful, Hood." Tim said, before scrambling back down towards the lower levels to safety.
Hood dashed up the stairs, further into the flames.

Between the burnt out spots in the floor, low visibility, and frankly irrational room layout, it took longer than he would like to reach room 305.
When he did, he kicked down the door with more force than was probably necessary, before bursting into the room. Flames were starting to lick at the southward wall and smoke billowed under the doors.

He was running out time.

"Anyone in here?" He shouted, anxiety thrumming through him as the building gave another ominous creak.
He paused his frantic search when he heard soft cries coming from the bathroom. He flung open to the door to find a little kid huddled in the tub with his arms wrapped around...his baby brother.

Shit.

Two kids. One rebreather.

Despite his dramatic entrance, blood and soot stained jacket, intimidating 6 ft frame, and scary helmet, the child clambered out of the tub and clung to him in relief.
Definitely a crime alley kid. Jason couldn't help the small smile of satisfaction under his helmet. To the uptown kids, Red Hood was a dangerous crime lord, a scary bedtime story to keep kids from wandering out alone at night. Crime alley kids though, they knew the truth. Red Hood represented safety. The Guardian of the alley and protector of the unwanted.

Jason crouched down to one knee as the child tugged on his pant leg. "Mr. Hood, we couldn't- we couldn't get-" however the sobbing child was interrupted by a violent coughing fit and was taking in the smokey air in ragged gasps. His baby brother was fairing even worse. Tear tracks cut through the grime on both of their faces and eyes red from the filthy air. The baby was silent though, without enough air in his fragile lungs to even cry.

The poor kid was trembling in fear against him.

"I'm going to get you both out of here." Jason said, putting a reassuring hand on the kids tiny shoulder. He hoped the voice modulator didn't sound too scary. "But I need you to be brave for your little brother. Can you do that?"

He couldn't manage a crying child and a fire rescue at the same time.
To his relief, the boy nodded at him, wiping his eyes and putting on the most adorable 'brave' face that he could. It reminded him of a face baby Damian would make back in his early league days, just less... murderous.

"Good job, kiddo." Jason said , ruffling the kids hair with one hand and reaching into his utility belt with the other.

They were running out of time. He quickly strapped the rebreather to the babies mouth and then braced himself for what needed to be done next.
Smokey crumbling buildings did not bring up great memories for Jason and he would be lying if he said they hadn't been the cause of many debilitating flashbacks and nightmares. His family knew he died in the warehouse explosion in Ethiopia, but what they didn't know was that it was the smoke that put the final nail in his coffin.

He probably would have died regardless due to the severity of his injuries, but buried among the burning rubble of the warehouse, it was the smoke that killed his shattered body first. In his nightmares he still relives lying there in agony as the air got harder and harder to breath until he was drowning in the smoke. The panic, utter helplessness, and fear...
Bruce probably knows, he had an autopsy done after all (Jason's got the scars to prove it) but Bruce had respected his privacy (for once) in that matter and hadn't shared it with his siblings. Whether out of guilt or courtesy he didn't know. It's why he always carried two extra rebreathers though, so he wouldn't be put in a situation where he had to relive that trauma.
Like right now. Apparently he needed to start carrying 3 rebreathers.

He took a deep breath, ignoring his brain screaming at him, before removing his helmet. The heat and suffocating smoke hit him instantly, but he forced back the initial panic.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"I need you to wear this." Jason said to the child who was staring at awe at his face. "It will help you breathe."
The child nodded eagerly as Jason fastened it to his head, turned on the air filters. He couldn't remember if he turned off the comms but he didn't have time to check. This had already taken too long.

He flinched as one of windows in the apartment shattered under the heat.

He put the older kid on his shoulders and instructed him to hang on tight, and scooped up the baby in his right arm, careful to support its head against his chest.
Everyone secure and not a moment to lose, he took off through the death trap of a building, which had only gotten more dangerous since his ascent up.
He was blinded by the smoke and moved part of the way through touch alone. Burning walls and doors lit everything in an eerie light, and he felt the boy hold on tighter as he was forced to duck under a falling support beam.

Breathe in, breathe out.

And the air... every breath was agony. The hot air felt like it was scorching his throat and then suffocating him the inside. The past memories threatened to bubble to the surface, but he shoved them back. He didn't have time for that, he had two kids to get to safety. After they were safe he could go back to his safe house and have a melt down.
The building groaned around him and he pushed for greater speed. He used his free arm to push through the burning debri as they went, the adrenaline covering up whatever burns he got as a result.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He was rasping in air in heaving gasps now. Black spots flashed around the edges of his vision like an annoying check engine light.

A burning wall had fallen and was partially blocking the entrance to the last stairwell. He kicked through it, sheltering the baby in his coat and praying the helmet would be enough to protect the older kid from the worst of it.

The stairwell gave out behind him, finally surrendering to the flames. The resulting collapse spewed out a hot wave of ash behind them.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He was drowning in hot smoke. It was just like he remembered it. Just like before.

It wasn't just him this time though. He had kids with him and he had to get them out. He wouldn't let them suffer the same fate.
He stumbled on through. Down the hallway, through the broken door, under the fallen roof... and then he was out.

He almost stumbled as he crossed the threshold, suddenly he was under open night sky. Cool water drops misted his skin from the hoses nearby. Sirens were wailing, overpowering the sound of crackling flames. The flashing blue and red emergency lights blinded him and formed bizarre shadows in the Smokey air.

Breathe in, breathe out.

In a blink emergency workers were suddenly surrounding him, pulling the children from his grasp. He let them go. He knew they were asking him questions but the voices all merged with the surrounding chaos.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He still couldn't breathe.

One of the paramedics tried to pull him towards the ambulance, but he brushed them off and stumbled away. He needed to get away from the building so he could breathe.

Away from the smoke.

Away from the people.

The flash backs were calling.

He was out of the building, but he still couldn't breathe.

He left his motorcycle two alley ways over. If he could get there then he would be safe. Then he could breathe. He made it as far as the Police line.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

And then Batman himself was stalking over to him. Jason internally groaned as the masked vigilante seemed to materialize out of the shadows them selves. He was already dreading the coming lecture: he was too reckless, too violent, too unpredictable. He was really not in right head space for this right now.

Breathe in, Breathe out.

Jason blinked and the bat was right in front of him. When did he move so fast?

"Hood-Sta--report--ow" Batman ordered. His hearing zoned in an out, but he picked up enough to get the gist of what was being asked of him.

"Not...now...B." Jason huffed out, only now realizing just how bad his breathing had gotten that he had to suck in a breath after every word. "Just...Just... need... bike."

One hands clutched at his chest as if that would magically make his lungs work. He just needed to get to his bike and then he could breathe.

He flinched as a hand grabbed his shoulder and another grasped the side of his face, forcing him to look at Batman. When had he looked away?
"Hoo-- sit--breat--"

Batman was talking again, but an annoying ringing had filled his ears, drowning out everything else. He tried to read his lips, to make up for were his ears failed him, but he found himself blinking away the black spots filling his vision. With all of this, he still couldn't breathe.

To his dismay his legs finally gave out. He shut his eyes and braced for the impact, but was surprised instead when instead a pair of steady arms wrapped around him. He felt himself being pulled a short distance before being gently lowered to the ground.

He couldn't hear. He could barely see. He couldn't BREATHE.

He felt himself leaning upright against someone solid. A familiar hand was running through his sooty hair. He couldn't hear anything over the ringing, could barely see anything past the black spots, but he could recognize the familiar vibrations of that deep voice anywhere. It was his Dad.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him.

His Dad had him. He still couldn't breathe, but at least he wouldn't be alone this time.

Chapter Text

Batman was late. He had come as soon as he got the request for backup, but he was still too late to be of any real help. When he arrived at the scene, Spoiler was crouched next to Tim, setting him up with the emergency oxygen from the Bat Cycles. He had started over to them, but Spoiler had frantically waved him away and told him to check on Hood who still hadn't emerged from the building.

Before worry could really take hold, a bunch of shouting suddenly caught Bruce's attention. Red Hood had emerged, carrying not one but two children. Much to his dismay, he wasn't able to get a good look at the vigilante as emergency workers and paramedics swarmed him to get the children.

Anxiety tightened in Bruce's chest as he watched his son push through the emergency workers, making a beeline towards the alley way. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut. His Dad senses were tingling. Something was wrong.

He quickened his pace, to cut off his son before he could make a getaway. Mentally he was running through the list of medical equipment he had at his disposal in his utility kit.

"Hood!" Batman shouted, attempting to get his attention, however he appeared to go unheard as his son continued to stumble on and only stopped when Bruce was right in front of him, physically blocking his path.

From just a glance Bruce could tell it was bad.

"Hood, Status report, now." Bruce ordered, scanning him up and down, not liking at all what he was seeing.

Hoods helmet was gone, leaving him only in his domino. Every inch of him was covered in a fine layer of ash and soot, making his white streak match the rest of his hair for a change. Bruce winced at the nasty looking burns covering his left forearm. His concern only grew as he saw the fingers appear to twitch periodically on their own. However, what was setting off red alarms for Bruce was his son's breathing. It wheezed in and out of his lungs in ragged bursts. He sounded more like a 100 year old dying of lung cancer than the young 20 year old man in his prime.

"Not...now...B." Jason wheezed out, clutching at his chest with his right arm as if to ease his breathing. "'M ...fine... Just...Just...need ... bike..." Hood wavered on his feet, he wasn't going to be standing much longer.

'Like hell you're driving like this.' Batman thought, refusing to move out of his son's path. He wasn't going anywhere as far as Batman was concerned.

"Oracle, status on the BatMobile." Bruce asked, voice tight. They only had one small extra oxygen canister on the Bay Cycles and Tim had already used it up. Bruce cursed his own lack of foresight.

"Night Wing is 20 minutes out." Oracle said.

"Understood. Have Agent A prep the med bay burn unit and have Dr. Leslie on Standby." Bruce ordered, hand on his ear piece.

Jason was wavering on his feet now. If it was anyone else Bruce doubted they would still be standing. But this was Jason.

Bruce gently put a hand on his shoulder, mindful of the burns, to help steady him. He felt his concern spike again when his son didn't immediately push him away. He placed his other hand on the side of his son's face, using his thumb to retract the Domino lens. He gently guided his son's face back to himself to get a better look at his eyes.

Bruce was not reassured in the slightest by what he saw. Jason's eyes were unfocused, whites of the eyes red from the smoke that managed to leak under the domino. They would flicker to him, occasionally appearing to have a moment of awareness before spacing out again.

"Hood, you've taken in a lot of smoke, you need to sit down. NightWing is bringing you oxygen."

Jason shook his head, as if trying to clear water from his ears. It was unclear if he didn't hear or if he was just unwilling to comply.

He was visibly shaking now to match the wheezing of his lungs.

"Hood, sit down." Bruce prepared himself for what he knew was coming.

It happened just a moment later.

Jason's knees finally buckled and he fell forward into Batman. Batman quickly adjusted his grip, taking to his son's weight, dragging them a short distance out of eye sight of bystanders, before carefully lowering both himself and Jason to the damp ground of the asphalt.

He positioned Jason leaning back against his chest, head tucked under Bruce's chin.

Jason's body was tight with anxiety, making breathing even more difficult. His free hand flicked towards his holsters as if seeking safety in his guns . His eyes barely opened, roamed, panicked and unseeing. The shaking had only increased to what Bruce could only assume was shock setting in.

"I've got you, I've got you. Just keep breathing kiddo." He said, running his hand through his tangled hair, just as he had many many years ago. "I'm here Jay-lad, I'm not leaving."

With a small wonder, Jason actually relaxed against him. Despite how awful the situation currently was, Bruce felt a small warmth grow in his chest. Despite all the mistakes he had made as a father and as Batman, when it came down to it, Jason still trusted him and was able to take comfort knowing Bruce would take care of him.

"Atta boy." Bruce praised quietly, pressing his lips against his son's hair. "Just keep breathing, your brother's on his way. You're going to be fine."

He wrapped his cape around them both, trying to shelter Jason's burns from any more debris. Sitting there, trying to coach his kid how to breathe, he felt helpless in a way he hadn't in a very long time.

Chapter Text

Steve, a Gotham paramedic of 26 years, rushed forward as soon as Red Hood emerged from the burning building with the children. All of the emergency services had been late on the scene due to a bad car wreck by the docks. He helped pull the young boy wearing the helmet from Hoods shoulders while his colleague grabbed the baby. The vigilante was audibly wheezing, but he shoved off all offers of aid from the other emergency personnel.

Steve kept an eye on Hood as he rushed the child back to the ambulance. He removed the helmet and set it carefully aside for one of the bats to collect later. It had undoubtedly saved the child's life. However, he had heard rumors of what that helmet contained and he had absolutely NO desire to find out if they were true. He just had time to put the child on oxygen and treat his minor burns, before the child's father found them.

The father was crying with relief and joy, and the boy clung to his father's embrace. Steve took a step back to give them a moment of privacy, and caught sight of Hood just in time to watch in shock as he collapsed into Batman's arms.

He heard a couple of his co-workers gasp, and several bystanders were trying to peer around the ambulance to get a better look at the drama unfolding.

Steve glanced away from the Bats to check on his patient and was relieved to see the father still holding his child, clutching him protectively to his chest and talking into his hair. He looked back to Batman holding the Red Hood. The big Bat had gloved hands running through the younger man's hair, whose head was tucked protectively under Batman's chin.

In that moment Steve had a sudden realization, a sudden feeling that he wasn't watching a vigilante helping a fellow vigilante, but instead a father holding his son. The feeling was only reinforced as Red Hood appeared to relax into Batman's hold and the cape was wrapped protectively around him.

But that was ridiculous. Batman didn't have kids? Who would even have kids with Batman?

Wait.. did that mean all the younger members in the Bat Squad were Batman's CHILDREN?

Steve shook away the thought. He would have time to do conspiracy theories later when he was well and truly hammered at the bar after shift. For now, he needs to do his job.

Looking back and forth between the two pairs though, Steve couldn't unsee it now. Two fathers protecting their sons. The one glaring difference between the two was one's child was already on the road to recovery, while the other, the one who had risked his life to save the children's, was struggling to breathe.

City policy was they weren't supposed to help the vigilantes.

Screw city policy. His policy was to help those who needed it and right now that included the vigilantes.

Steve grabbed the mini portable oxygen unit and mask, and Red Hood's helmet before cautiously making his way over to Batman and Red Hood. He stopped a few feet away, this was still Batman after all. He awkwardly cleared his throat, and almost lost his courage under the bat stare, but pushed on.

"I- I thought you could use this." Steve said, crouching down and offering out the oxygen. "Also, his helmet. He used it to save the kid."

It was hard to make out his expressions, but Steve liked to think Batman looked relieved. "Thank you." Batman said, and holy shit his voice was scary, before reaching out and taking it from him.

Both of them looked up to see some of the Police officers had followed Steve's lead and moved their patrol cars to cut off any bystanders' view of the vigilantes and give them more privacy.

The officers and Steve nodded to each other in understanding. The city might not appreciate the vigilantes, but its people did.

Steve nodded to himself, accepting his dismissal, but he hesitated before adding one more thing. "Take care of your kid. He does good work here, Crime Ally cares about him."

Batman nodded in agreement. "He does more good than he knows."

Steve headed back to the ambulance to do his job, figuring he had pushed his luck enough for one evening.

A month later Steve was surprised to find he had been promoted and awarded the citizen of year award presented by Bruce Wayne of all people!

Chapter Text

Bruce was beyond grateful for the oxygen canister the emergency worker had provided. It was nice to see there were still some good people in the world. The oxygen canister was small, and the elastic on the back of the mask was broken so it had to be manually held on, but beggars can't be choosers . He felt so relieved when the oxygen mask was finally over his son's face. After 15 minutes of breathing clean air, Jason's breathing began to ease up a bit.

However, Bruce remained on edge. He kept a close eye on his son's face, looking for any indication that he was waking up. As much as the mask was an absolute necessity, he knew the moment Jason was more aware it was going to become a problem.

With his extensive past traumas before, during, and after being Robin, it didn't come as a surprise that he had a long list of 'triggers'. One of these, they came to learn, was wearing an oxygen mask on his face, which having on for a long period of time resulted in severe flashbacks. They found this out the hard way after a mission gone wrong left a knocked out Jason in the medbay with an oxygen mask. The following chaos resulted in one panicked Jason, one broken nose for Dick, and two cracked ribs for Tim.

They made sure to use nose cannulas for Jason after that.

Jason never told them why, and the few times Bruce had tried to broach the topic, Jason had always quickly distanced himself again from the family. So Bruce didn't push Jason on it. The only reason Bruce knew it was league related at all was from the brief information Damian had reluctantly shared. Apparently after discovering Jason's fear of suffocating, the league had used oxygen deprivation as one of their forms of punishment after he 'misbehaved'. He had been unwilling to go into detail on exactly how that was done to Jason, but based on his grim expression the experience had not been pleasant.

So Bruce waited tensely, both desperately longing and dreading for his son to wake up.

Finally, Jason's eyes blinked open, and Bruce quickly removed the mask.

"Welcome back, Jay." Bruce said.

"Dad?" Jason asked quietly, followed by an aggressive coughing fit that left him gasping once again for air.

"I'm here, kiddo." Bruce reassured, as Jason struggled to catch his breath, “ Just breathe through it.”

Bruce held his breath as he held up the oxygen mask for Jason to see.

"No." Jason said immediately, his whole body tensed at the idea, and Jason weakly pushed back against Bruce as if to escape. Bruce held on tighter.

"Jason, you need this right now, you took in a lot of smoke." Jason tried to push himself up once more and made it only an inch before collapsing breathlessly.

Jason hated this. Bruce hated this, but Jason needed this.

Bruce continued more softly, "You can take brakes from it as needed, we just don't have a better option right now. You can have a nasal cannula instead once we get to the cave."

For a dreadful moment Bruce thought Jason was going to refuse, but after a long minute of labored wheezing, Jason finally nodded his consent and the oxygen mask was placed carefully over his face once more.

Bruce tried to keep up a steady line of dialogue and small talk to keep Jason distracted: new design ideas for the grappler, accidentally putting his computer at W.E. in parental control and getting locked out, Alfred’s new lasagna recipe. Small talk definitely was not his forte, but he did his best. Even though the talking seemed to help, Bruce could tell pretty quickly when Jason needed a break. Whenever he got tense, jaw clenching, eyes defocusing Bruce was quick to remove the mask to give him a break, and then would put it back on when Jason signaled he was ready.

"Are the ...kids ...alright?", Jason asked on one of these breaks.

" Yes, both were reunited with their Dad and are on their way to Gotham General. They were in stable condition when they left, thanks to you."

Jason blushed a bit from the praise, and Bruce very pointedly pretended not to notice.

" and Red ...Robin?" Jason asked, his eyes were drooping now, exhaustion starting to take over once more.

"Fine as well. Spoiler is with him keeping him company."

"Wouldn't say...he's completely ...fine then...Poor guy." Jason muttered tiredly, eyes flickering closed.

Bruce rolled his eyes at his comment, but before he could reprimand him, Jason tapped his arm signaling he was ok to use the oxygen mask again.

Moments later Jason was dozing once more, chest wheezing in a slow but reassuring rhythm.

Chapter Text

Night Wing was late. He'd sped across town in the Batmobile as soon as he got the call from Oracle. He'd left the Batmobile at the edge of the police line with Red Robin and Spoiler. He ran through the chaos carrying a fresh oxygen tank, dodging firemen and civilians alike as he searched for his dad and brother.

His boots splashed across the pavement, water droplets refracting the red and blue emergency lights. He coughed as his lungs protested the lingering smoke and he squinted through the hazy air as he searched. He was already regretting wearing his warmer suit tonight as he felt himself sweating from the heat of the lingering flames. That was going to suck later when un-suiting. Dick cringed at the thought.

He finally found them right in front of the police line, tucked away from the curious eyes of bystanders. “Batman!" Nightwing shouted in greeting, finally catching sight of the cowled vigilante. He weaved effortlessly through the chaos towards them.

"Nightwing." Batman nodded back in greeting. "Is the Batmobile here?".

" Yes, Spoiler and Red Robin are waiting with it. A couple of the cops are clearing a route through the bystanders for it, so Hood won't have to walk far." Bruce nodded his approval at that.

"Good work"

Nightwing crouched down next to them, scanning over his 'not so little' little brother currently passed out in their father's arms, head resting limp against his shoulder.

"How's he doing?" He asked, as he manually switched out the almost depleted tank for the fresh one he brought. Unfortunately, he already had a pretty good idea; It was never a good sign when Jason was allowing himself to be held, especially in public.

Dick eyebrows crinkled with worry as he scanned over his little brother. His face was coated in soot broken up only by the clean tracks left behind from the sweat. Dick could hear his ragged breathing even with all the commotion going on around them. His favorite jacket and jeans were singed in places and would very likely need to be replaced.

"Grade 2 smoke inhalation, and second possibility third degree burns." Bruce shifted his cape to show Nightwing the damage. Nightwing cringed at the red blistered skin covering his brother's forearm. Soot and ash coated much of the surface as well. With an infection being all but inevitable, scaring would be the least of their worries.

His eyes then traveled up to the oxygen mask his father was holding over Jason's mouth.

The trademark red helmet sat forgotten on the ground beside them.

"Did his helmet malfunction as well? I thought it had a built-in rebreather." Nightwing questioned, tilting his head in confusion. Red Hood had been pretty adamant about making it completely airtight after his last go around with fear gas.

"He gave it to one of the kids he was rescuing." Nightwing detected a touch of both exasperation and pride in his father's voice.

"Of course he did." Night Wing said with a sigh, mirroring his feelings.

"He's handling it well though." Night Wing noted, nodding towards the oxygen mask covering his brother’s face. He rubbed his nose unconsciously. His nose ached just thinking about the last time they had used an oxygen mask on his brother.

"He wasn't happy about it, but we've been taking it off as needed. It’s the best we can do at the moment.”

“I checked the Batmobile first aid kits, no nasal cannulas, just extra masks.” Dick said, regretfully. While he didn’t know all the details of why Jason struggled with the mask, he knew it was hard for his brother and he wished there was a way he could make it better.

“That’s what I figured,” Bruce said with a disappointed sigh, “We will make do until we get back to the cave. I’ll have to update all the kits after this.”

Nightwing nodded in agreement.

Any further discussion was interrupted by the static of the comms and Babs voice in their ear.

"Sorry to interrupt you boys, but Gordens here and said he needs to talk to you about a case.”

“Understood, Oracle, tell him I’m on my way over.” Bruce sighed at the interruption and shifted to get up, but hesitated as he looked down at Jason.

“I’ll stay with Jay until the Batmobile gets here." Dick offered, always looking for an excuse to cuddle with his siblings, “He’ll be fine.”

Bruce seemed torn for a moment, but at the end of the day duty calls. He reluctantly switched places with Dick, carefully shifting his younger son into the arms of his older. He unclipped his cape, and draped it back over his two sons.

"Keep an eye on his breathing, and the mask." Bruce reminded, ever the worry wart. “If he started to get tense-“

"-I’ll take the mask off.” Dick cut in, “I got him, B." Dick reassured, "Go talk to Gorden."

Bruce took one last look at them before becoming Batman once more and left to find the police commissioner.

They sat for a bit, Dick holding the oxygen mask, and Jason dozing quietly against his chest. It was disconcerting for Jason to be so still and quiet, however Dick was relieved to be able to feel every rise and fall of his brother's chest. It was proof that he was alive and safe. His hair was soft under his chin, and he blew away a few strands that were tickling his nose. If he focused really hard he thought he could smell a hint of Jason's favorite shampoo under the ash and smoke. It was the same one Alfred had gotten for him when he first came to the manor so many years ago as a scrawny little street kid…

Dick was startled out of his reminiscing by a shaky hand grabbing at the wrist holding the oxygen mask.

Jason was awake, and staring up at him pleadingly, appearing to be on the verge of panicking.

"Off?" Dick asked, having a pretty good idea what the problem was.

At Jason's tense nod he quickly removed the mask, and Jason instantly relaxed against him.

"You good?" Dick asked, after a few moments.

"Peachy." Jason said tiredly, voice rough from the smoke, "Where'd… B …go?" He asked, struggling through a coughing spell.

Night Wing winced in sympathy at each wheezing cough, it sounded painful.

"Talking to Gorden about a case. I left the Batmobile with Red to drive over, B will meet back up with us when it gets here."

"Since when... did you get.. so lazy... that you use... Red as...valet." Jason said between breaths.

Dick bit back the desire to tell him to stop talking and focus on his breathing. It would probably just make him talk more out of spite.

" Since you started playing damsel in distress. It was either this or B carrying you like a Disney princess", Nightwing teased instead.

Jason instinctively reached with his left arm to smack him in retaliation, but quickly aborted the movement with a hiss of pain.

"Oh F*ck", he spat out, curling around the offending arm and quietly cursing between each breath.

" Second degree burns, try not to move it. You don't want the blisters to pop" Dick warned, feeling a spike of guilt at not having warned him sooner.

"Little late...with...warning...Wing." Jason ground out, teeth clenched tight.

Dick frown deepened, as his brother's breathing became increasingly shallow and choppy.

"Hey-hey Hood. You're ok, the pain will pass in a second, just breathe through it." Dick tried to sooth. He carefully pulled Jason out of the hunched position and back up against his chest to make breathing easier.

"Just follow my breathing." He exaggerated and slowed his own breathing for his brother to match. After an excruciating slow minute he was able to match it, and Dick offered him the oxygen mask once again.

Jason was shaking weakly against him now, and Dick wrapped his arms around him a little tighter. He subtly put his hand on Jason's pulse point, monitoring for shock, especially with the burns he sustained . He was grateful that Batman left his cape, as he hadn't grabbed a shock blanket from the Batmobile before rushing over.

" That bad?" Dick asked quietly.

Jason was silent for a moment, just long enough for Dick to think he wasn't actually going to get a response, before he nodded slightly.

"Sorry, I should have-" Dick tried, but was quickly interrupted.

"Not your...fault... Wing." Jason said, awkwardly patting Nightwing's arm, "Didn't... feel it...until I...moved it." His words were jumbled coming through the bulk of the mask.

Dick frowned, not liking what that implied, but kept his concerns to himself. Nothing they could do about it right now.

"We've got some of the strong stuff in the Batmobile." Dick offered, referring to the high grade narcotics in the Bat Mobiles first aid kit.

"No" Jason refused, shaking his head weakly.

"Ok. That's ok." Dick said, disappointed but not surprised. He hadn't expected his brother to accept them.

Nightwing chatted away as Jason dozed in and out while they waited, periodically removing the oxygen mask as needed.

At last the Batmobile arrived. Red Robin climbed out and made his way over to his brothers.

Dick eyed him carefully as he walked the short distance over to them, scanning him up and down for any injuries. Oracle had mentioned that he had been in and out of the burning building several times and that Spoiler had to give him oxygen after exiting the building the last time. Aside from breathing a bit heavier than usual and what looked to be a few minor burns, Dick was relieved to see he seemed to be doing ok.

"I heard you guys needed a lift," Tim said teasingly, but his levity fell away as he got a better look at Jason.

"Whoa- Is he ok?" he asked Dick, staring wide eyed at Jason all but collapsed against his brother's chest.

"HE’S….right…here." Jason said, thoroughly annoyed at being talked over like a child.

"Sorry" Tim said, holding his hands up defensively," seriously though, you look like shit."

"Red..." Dick warned, shooting Tim a disapproving glare. He really didn’t need Tim getting Jason riled up now that his breathing was finally beginning to stabilize again.

"So still... a step... above... you then?" Jason taunted. Apparently despite being barely conscious, he was in an antagonizing mood tonight.

Night Wing rolled his eyes at their bickering before gently nudging Jason to get his attention, "You ready to go home? Red and I will help you up."

Jason simply nodded.

Dick carefully got under his good arm, and Tim helped support his other side. They wrapped the Bat Cloak around his bad arm to offer some form of protection. Together they heaved Jason up to his feet. However upon standing, Jason's face lost what little color it had and his knees buckled on the verge of passing out once more. Dick and Tim exchanged a concerned look, tightening their hold on the vigilante.

“Jay, sit down, we will figure something else out“ Dick tried. He really didn’t want to add concussion to Jason’s growing list of injuries for tonight.

“Shut.. up… Dickface… I’ve ….got… it” Jason huffed out stubbornly. He was heavily leaning on his brothers, and very clearly did not ‘got it’ . Dick was grateful that Tim wisely did not comment on the fact. Instead, Dick watched Tim readjust his hold, preparing to catch him if he did indeed pass out.

They may squabble and tease each other, but at the end of the day they were family and would do whatever needed to keep each other safe.

They three waited patiently until the light headedness seemed to pass and then helped their brother make the slow walk/shuffle to the car. As always, Dick marveled at just how heavy Jason was. His little brother had absolutely no business being as big as a fricken rhino.

As they went, Dick glared at the few nosy bystanders he caught peeking between the police cruisers and made a mental note to have Babs to delete any photos that popped up online of his brother. Red Hood very rarely got hurt so publicly, so when it did happen it always drew unwanted attention.

He wasn’t able to protect his little brother from the fire tonight, but he could protect him from any internet trolls and media backlash that came after.

By the time they had crossed the hundred yards to the BatMobile, Jason was wheezing like he had run a marathon. He was shaking from the exertion and droplets of sweat streaked down his face and dripped onto the pavement below. He leaned his forehead, exhausted, against the roof of the car, injured arm held protectively to his chest.

Essentially, he was what Dick would qualify as a hot mess.

Tim was biting his lip anxiously and wordlessly offered up the oxygen mask, and Jason took it without resistance, greedily heaving in the air.

Together, they managed to get Jason settled in the backseat of the BatMobile. He all but collapsed in the back seat, head tipped back against the seat, and eyes squeezed shut. The oxygen mask was left forgotten in his lap, much to Dicks displeasure. Tim settled in the front passenger seat and Dick climbed in after Jason squeezing up right next to him, pressed thigh to thigh. He reached over grabbing his brother’s seat belt and clicking it into place.

“Do… you… mind.” Jason asked, cracking open an eye and shooting him a very unconvincing glare.

“Nope.” Said Dick cheerily, holding up the oxygen mask and gently placing it over his brother's nose once more.

Jason grumbled a bit, but otherwise didn’t fight it and instead tipped his head to rest against his brother’s shoulder instead. Dick felt his heart warm at the unexpected display of trust. Dick took advantage of the moment and wrapped his free arm around his shoulders, holding him close.

They all jumped in surprise as the driver's door suddenly opened and Batman climbed in, shutting the door behind.

“How’s he doing?” Bruce asked, pulling off his cowl and twisting around to the back seat. Without his cowl, the worry in his blue eyes was evident.

“HE’S….fine.” Jason complained, sounding utterly exhausted. The fearsome crime lord once again cracked open an eye to shoot them an annoyed glare, but it came across more pouty than anything else.

“Cranky.” Night Wing and Tim corrected together right after.

Bruce seemed to relax a bit at hearing that, and faced forward starting the Batmobile. A complaining Jason was usually an ok Jason.

Jason flipped both of them off with his one working hand when Bruce wasn’t watching, but quickly decided that further retaliation required too much oxygen and went back to quietly resting on his older brother's shoulder.

“Gorden have anything interesting to say?” Dick asked, meeting Bruce’s eyes through the rear view mirror, and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“We will discuss it later.” Batman said cryptically, putting the Batmobile in drive and speeding off into the night.

Chapter Text

Bruce kept an eye on his two oldest sons through the rear view mirror the whole ride home. Jason had either passed out or fallen asleep about 5 minutes into the drive and was resting against his older brother's shoulder, breath wheezing in and out of his lungs even in his sleep. Dick for his part had one arm wrapped around his younger brother's shoulder and up to the oxygen mask on his face, and the other was wrapped gently around his wrist monitoring his pulse.

Bruce met eyes with Dick through the mirror.

“Any change?” Bruce asked, agonizing internally over every wheezing breath leaving his son’s lungs. He forced himself to relax his hands, which were white knuckling the steering wheel.

Dick shook his head in response, “Pulse rate is still weak and fast, borderline shock but no major changes.” Dick scrunched his eyebrows in worry, holding his brother a little tighter as if he could physically hold him together.

Bruce just grunted in response, it wasn’t great, but definitely could have been worse.

Jason was squirming a bit in his sleep, but Dick quickly shifted his grip to run his hand through his brother's hair, quietly shushing him. Bruce grinned as Jason instantly relaxed once again into his brother's hold, the ‘fearsome crime lord’ pressing forehead into the crook of his older brother's neck, and letting out a sigh of contentment. ‘Alfred would love to see a photo of that….’ Bruce thought with a wry smirk.

With the situation in the back relatively stable, he turned his attention to his son in the passenger seat.

Tim had been unusually quiet the entire ride, fiddling endlessly with some frayed wires in Hood's helmet.

“You ok, chum?” Bruce asked quietly.

Tim’s Red Robin uniform was singed, torn, and stained from the debris. His usually styled hair wilted pathetically flat against his forehead. Overall, he looked like a mess, as did everyone else in the car.

“Mhmm,” Tim hummed back, “just trying to figure out what’s rubbing the wires in Jay's helmet.” Bruce frowned at the breathlessness in his tone.

‘He’s distracting himself. Something definitely isn’t right’ Bruce thought, studying this middle son more intently. ‘Definitely some smoke inhalation, but no serious injuries as far as I can see’

“I want you on oxygen again when we get back to the cave.” Bruce ordered, side eyeing Tim already expecting the resistance.

“Bruce, I’m fi-“

“Oracle showed me the feed of you collapsing after exiting the building.”

Tim tried and failed to smother the sudden guilty expression. ‘Gotcha’

“… I will be fine.” Tim corrected.

Bruce stared flatly at him.

“…. And I’ll use the oxygen.” Tim reluctantly agreed, rolling his eyes.

Bruce deliberately ignored the sass (as one does after raising a small army of teenagers) and nodded in satisfaction with the agreement made. However, he couldn’t help feeling something else was still off.

Bruce glanced at the back seat again.

Jason was still passed out, but Dick was watching his and Tim’s conversation intently. Dick met his eye through the mirror, briefly nodding his head in Tim's direction, telling him to keep trying.

‘Hmm, Dick also picked up on it.’

Bruce hesitated for a moment. Turning over several conversation starters before finally landing on one.

“Did you get what you needed for the case?” Bruce asked, watching Tim’s expression intently out of the corner of his eye.

“I got a couple of possible dates for the next shipment, but not much more before my cover was blown…and the fire started.” Tim glanced at his brothers in the back seat with a guilty expression.

Oh… OH

“This wasn’t your fault Tim.” Bruce said, bluntly “ you did the best you could in the situation.”

Tim looked at him entirely unconvinced.

“Most importantly you got everyone out.” Bruce said, hoping to drive the point home.

“Not everyone.” Time muttered under his breath.

“Tim-“ Bruce tried.

“It’s fine, Bruce.” Tim said defensively. “Just drop it.”

Even Bruce, emotionally constipated as he was, could hear how unconvincingly Tim’s tone was.
Bruce once again shared a concerned look with his oldest through the mirror. They shared a mini conversation through that glance and Dick nodded in confirmation. Dick would talk to Tim later about this.

‘Good’

Bruce had to hold back a sigh of relief. Dick was so much better about this stuff.

His worries quickly shifted as they arrived at the batcave.

The moment the car was at a stand still, Bruce was out of the car and opening the door to the back seat.

Dick was gently nudging a very cranky Jason awake, “Hey Little Wing, we’re here.”

Jason just groaned and screwed his eyes shut even tighter.

“Jus’ …leave me…. here…. to die.” He groaned dramatically, tipping his head back against the headrest.

Bruce hovered anxiously outside the door, ready to carry his son to Leslie and Alfred, who were waiting in the med bay, but not wanting to suddenly grab an unaware Jason and spook him.

Dick just rolled his eyes at Jason's theatrics, “No can do, Jay. B is gonna carry you to the medbay.”

“ No! “ Jay refused, weakly pushing back Bruce’s helping arms, “ I c’n …walk.. not-not a… disney…. Princess.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, in confusion, and Dick for whatever reason looked rather guilty.

‘We don’t have time for this’ Bruce thought, frustrated.

Did Bruce want Jay trying to walk in his condition? Absolutely not. Was fighting it worth the extra time, stress, and possible injuries on Jay's part. Probably not.

“Ok. Ok. We will help you walk.” Dick said with placating hands
.
Between the two of them, each under one arm, they managed to get Jason out of the car and walking (more like shuffling) towards the med bay).

Bruce pressed his lips tightly together, as each of Jason’s breath became increasingly labored and his face increasingly pale with each shuffling step. He covertly adjusted his grip, ready to catch Jason when (not if) his body finally surrendered.

To Jason’s credit, they made it about half way before his knees finally buckled. Bruce had him picked up, and securely in his arms, even before his knees had time to hit the ground.

“F*ck you” Jason cursed, fighting weakly against the hold before surrendering and relaxing into his arms. Bruce felt his heart stutter as Jason tucked his head under his chin. He looked so tired.

“I’ll go check on Tim and get him started on oxygen before he sneaks off.” Dick said, as he opened up the door to the med bay for the duo, “ Text me if there are any changes.”

Bruce felt a small weight off his shoulders knowing Dick had Tim well in hand, and Bruce could just focus on what Jason needed for the moment.

Alfred and Leslie were already waiting, equipment and medical supplies laid out and ready for use right on time. Out of all the bats, Bruce could confidently say Alfred was the only one who was never late.

“Jason.” Leslie greeted sternly as Bruce set him down on the medical cot.

“…Whts’…up… Doc?” Jason greeted with a lopsided grin, breath wheezing too much for anything more.

Leslie just shook her head with a mixture of both frustration and fondness. It was a common mixture of emotions when related to Jason.

“Here you go Master Jason.” Alfred said, quickly and skillfully setting up the nasal cannula.

“Thks’… Alfie.” Jason said gratefully. He blinked his eyes slowly, struggling to focus them. He closed his eyes, tuning out the world as he focused on catching his breath.

“Injuries?” Leslie asked briskly, glancing up at Bruce, when it was clear Jason wasn’t aware enough to give an accurate summary.

She was carefully unwrapping the makeshift cape-bandage on his arm, while Bruce and Alfred removed various pieces of armor.

“Grade 2 smoke inhalation, and second possibility third degree burns on the left forearm.” Bruce said, removing his son’s knee pads. He noted with disapproval the chips in the metal.

‘ I need to replace these before Jason goes out on patrol again. Actually, Lucious sent me those new designs that would drastically cut down on the concussion. It would definitely help his bad knee. Kid claims it is fine, though we can clearly see how stiffly he moves on the rainy days so it clearly isn’t and-‘

Bruce’s mind was quickly drawn out of its tangent at Leslies sharp intake of breath at finally seeing the burned and bleeding mess that was Jason’s forearm.

“This is going to need skin grafts, even with his accelerated healing.” Leslie said, shaking her head in displeasure. “How long did you say he was in there?” She glanced concerned at Jay's vitals on the screen.

“ 20 minutes. We’ve had him on oxygen on and off for the past hour. “ Bruce stated, reaching for a latch on the chest plate, but was stopped from saying more by a shaky hand on his wrist.

“Jay?” Bruce asked, confused. He felt his heart stutter with concern at the panicked expression on Jason’s face.

“I j-just-..I-I d-don’t-“ Jason stuttered, his eyes watering with confusion and panic.

It appeared the adrenaline was finally waning and his son was crashing fast and hard.

“Hey-hey, you’re ok lad, we just need to take off your armor” Bruce tried, carefully prying his son’s fingers off his wrist and once again reaching for the clasp.

Jason’s breathing stuttered. “No.. c-can’t… got-gotta..” a flicker of green flashed in his eyes.

Everyone froze.

“You’re ok Jaylad. We’ve got you, just relax.”

Bruce said, slowly removing his hand away from the armor clasp as if it was a live bomb.

Any attempt to move closer to him sent the green flashing faster. Bruce felt completely at a loss on how to calm his delirious and panicking kid. The last thing they needed was the pit taking over now.

The pit working quietly in the background accelerating Jason healing = very helpful✅

The pit feeding off the his sons fear and pain and taking him on panic induced pit rampage = not helpful ❌

Alfred must have had the same inclination, “May I suggest we give him something before an unfortunate event takes place?” Alfred asked, already pulling a sedative and syringe out of Jason’s medical drawer. Each medication in said drawer was tailored specifically to Jason's unique biology and accounted for both his advanced metabolism and pit chemicals in his blood.

Another flash of green.

“He hates being sedated.” Bruce said hesitantly. This had been the topic of many screaming matches between father and son. Bruce would admit it took an embarrassing number for him to actually listen and understand why.

“He also hates when one of you gets hurt trying to stop his pit rampage” Leslie countered, watching Jason uneasily, “this is the lesser of two evils Bruce.”

Another flash of green.

“I agree with Dr. Leslie, Master Bruce.” Alfred chimes in, as the green flashes followed by a heart wrenching whine.

“Ok. Do it.” Bruce said, reaching out to stroke Jason’s hair once again, hoping to distract him from the slight pinch of the needle in the side of his neck.

They all watched tensely as the drug took over, Jason's sluggish blinks and flashes of green become slower and slower. Within a minute, Jason’s panicked breathing had relaxed and his eyes had fluttered closed into unconsciousness.

The three adults sighed in relief once the drugs finally took hold. Without a word, Bruce unlatched and removed the final pieces of armor. Alfred quickly followed suit by cutting off various articles of ruined clothing until Jason was left in only his boxers.

Bruce sat down in the chair beside the bed, completely wrung out after all the tension of the past few hours. Alfred had gotten to work wiping Jason’s face clean of the ash and smoke, and Bruce couldn’t help but marvel at how young Jason looked when he was asleep. With his bloody reputation, kill count, and crime lord activities, sometimes it was easy to forget that Jason wasn’t even legally old enough to drink.

Now though… Now he just looked young and exhausted. His breathing, though improving, was still wheezing in and out of his lungs. Glancing over at the vitals he frowned at how low his oxygen levels still were. It was to be expected after how long he was in the burning building, but it didn’t make Bruce feel any better.

He felt his heart clench at remembering his son’s panicked expression at not being able to breathe. Bruce felt sick to his stomach as he realized the whole experience had probably reminded Jason of-

‘Nope, not thinking about that.’ Bruce chastised himself, quickly focusing on something else.

Bruce turned his attention to Leslie as she went about cleaning the various burns. His eyes naturally landed on the charred mess that was his son’s forearm. Bruce’s felt his stomach turn once more as he realized it reminded him of Jason’s wounds in -

‘Nope. Move on.’

He longed to take his son’s hand in his own, and feel his pulse, but when he moved to hold it he realized his hands were covered in ash and grime from Jason’s hair and from removing his armor.

‘There was another time your hands looked like this…’ a traitorous thought whispered.

Bruce rubbed a dirty hand across his forehead trying to dissipate the thoughts, he grimaced as he realized he had just smeared his face in ash as well.

Bruce quickly shifted his gaze to Jason’s bare chest. While it was cleaner by protection of the armor, it was instead littered with various scars old and new. However, once again one distinctive Y shaped scar caught his attention. Its pale ridges rose higher than the skin surrounding it, the scar tissue rough and twisted. Bruce was almost positive he was going to be sick this time.

The mask, the burns, the ash, the autopsy scar. Everything reminded him of Ethiopia. He could only imagine how hard this was for Jason.

‘We were so close to losing him again.’ Bruce thought, anxiously watching Jason’s chest rise and fall with each wheezing breath. ‘If he had just been in that building a bit longer or if the doorway had been locked….’

Suddenly a steady hand was on his shoulder, startling him out of his spiraling thoughts“ Master Bruce, might I suggest you take some time to go change?” Alfred suggested kindly. Of course Alfred saw through him.

“I need to stay with Ja-“ Bruce tried, unwilling to leave his second son. Unwilling to risk losing him again.

“I assure you, Doctor Leslie and I have all of Master Jason’s needs well in hand.” Alfred interrupted firmly, “Once you have showered and checked on the well being of your other children you can return to his side.”

Bruce sighed recognizing Alfred’s suggestion for the order that it was. He took one more look at his son, confirming to himself that he was safe and sound before heading to the showers.

Chapter Text

“You ok, Tim?” Dick asked, as he watched his younger brother stare intently at Jason’s vitals on the tablet.

Dick, Stephanie, and Damian, all sat around the kitchen island keeping Tim company while he used the oxygen tank. More like, Dick hovered anxiously to make sure Tim actually used the oxygen, Steph teased to stave off boredom, and Damian worried by scolding his brother for his ignorance, but close enough.

“I’m fine, Dick.” Tim said for the 100th time, words muddled through the mask. “I’m not the bird you need to be worried about right now.”

Dick frowned at the self loathing undertone.

“This isn’t your fault Tim,” Dick reassured, gently bumping shoulders with Tim, “Jays going to be fine.”

“Todd's ability to get into stupid situations rivals your own Drake, I doubt you played any significant role in it.” Damian supplied unhelpfully, not even looking up from his drawing pad.

Dick winced. Under the insult, Damian really did mean to help, but he doubted Tim saw it that way. By Tim’s irritated glare, he was correct.

“What he means, Tim, is that none of us blame you for what happened and neither will Jay.”

“Greyson, that is not what I-“ Damian tried to protest, but Steph quickly pulled his hoodie up over his face and pulled the strings tight, effectively stifling any further insults.

“Hands off me Brown!” He yelled in outrage, lashing out blindly at Stephanie, crashing to the floor in the process.

Stephanie merely winked at Dick, before dashing off around the counter, distracting the baby bat so Dick could talk to Tim without further interruption.

“Tim, please stop beating yourself up over this. These things happen in our line of work. The important thing is he got out and he’s going to be-“

Before Dick could finish his thought though, the tablet began blaring. Damian’s and Stephanie’s argument immediately halted, and Dick and Tim’s conversation cut short as all eyes turned to watch the screen. They watched anxiously as Jason’s vitals, heart rate and blood pressure spiked, and continued to rise in short bursts.

“It is the pit.” Damian said, confirming what they were all thinking. Growing up in the league and for a time with Jason, he was very familiar with the pit and its ability to both help and hinder. Right now was definitely a hindrance.

They all sat motionless and feeling utterly useless, until Jason’s vitals suddenly dropped back down to that of being asleep or unconscious.

“They sedated him.” Tim said tersely.

They all sat in tense silence for a bit. Dick knew the implications of the appearance of the pit and then the required sedation. It was evidence that though Jason would be ok (Dick refused to believe otherwise), he definitely wasn't ok now. Further that, while the pit may aid in Jay's physical injuries, it would do absolutely nothing to heal the mental trauma sustained from the fire. Based on his siblings' grim expressions they were all thinking along the same line of thought. So they all sat, no one wanting to discuss the elephant in the room, but also unsure of how to commence conversation without bringing it up.

Stephanie was the one to break the silence, in the most unhinged way possible.

“Sooooo, if Jason were a disney princess, who would he be?” She asked, shooting a teasing look at Dick. He had disclosed to them exactly what had occurred at the apartment fire and then later exiting the BatMobile. He was clearly mistaken in the idea that they would not tease him further on his mistake .

“Personally, I think he gives off Mulan vibes with the whole crime lord's body count and disobeying Bruce. They both use swords too, though Jason’s are more of the magic-demon-slaying variety. Stephanie said, eager to share her opinion and break the tense air. “Though Mulan probably has a higher body count.” She mused.

Though an odd topic of choice, Dick graciously accepted the conversation for the much needed distraction that it was.

“I see him as more of Belle.” Dick said after a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Really?” Stephanie asked incredulously. “Mr. Headsinaduffelbag?” Tim also raised an eyebrow at his selection, finally glancing up from the tablet.

“Definitely!” Dick said, getting into the spirit of the debate especially seeing as it piqued Tim’s interest. “Think about it, Belle loves to read, Jason loves to read, he would probably live in the library if he could. Belle drinks tea, Jason drinks tea!”

Tim nodded in agreement at his points.

“AND both only take advice from someone with a British accent.” Dick merged both his hands together. “A perfect match!”

“Does a tea-pot really count as a person, Dick?” Stephanie asked, bursting his bubble of enthusiasm and raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Last one’s a bit weak, Dick” Tim admitted.

Damian tsked at their absurdity, but Dick was pleased to see he was also watching the debate unfold when he thought no one was watching.

“Fine. What about you Tim?” Dick asked, elbowing him friendly to get him into the conversation. “If he’s not Belle, what Disney princess do you think he would be?”

“I think his personality fits Jasmine,” Tim said hesitantly, but continued at Dicks encouraging nod, “both are rebellious and speak their mind.”

No one could argue with that.

“Both of them have a soft spot for kids, and go out of their way to protect them regardless of the consequences. Also, Jasmine has a pet tiger, and Jason has a pet cat.”

“That’s ridiculous, Drake.” Damian tsked“Cats and tigers are completely different animals! He would clearly be Snow White!”

‘Got him!’ Dick thought triumphantly. It looked like Damian was finally getting off his high pedestal and joining in the debate. Upon coming from the league, Dick has forced Dami to watch ALL the Disney classics and he was glad to see his little brother had been paying attention.

“Why Snow White, Dami?” He asked, enthusiastically.

Damian tsked again, “You all overlooked the obvious, both Todd and Snow White died and returned to life. Also, Todd is paranoid about keeping a tidy apartment just like Snow White-“

“Objection! The Dwarves clean the cottage, not Snow White.” Stephanie argued, banging her mug on the counter like a javelin.

Damian glared at her.

“Let him finish Steph.” Dick said, trying to make peace. “Go ahead, Dami.”
“As I was going to say, they both have pale skin and black hair. Out of all the available options, their physical appearances are the most similar.” He looked over at his siblings, feeling superior in his selection.

‘Oh would Jason LOVE to hear that comparison!’ Dick thought sarcastically, covering up his laughter with a cough.

“Mulan also has pale skin and black hair…” Stephanie argued.

“It’s not the same Brown!” Damian yelled, slamming his hands on the counter, fully ready to launch at Stephanie. “Jason would clearly be Snow White!”

They were saved from World War Three: Disney Princess version, by Bruce’s very confused voice calling from the doorway.

“Jason would be what?!?” Bruce looked exhausted, wrung out, and now also very confused.

Stephanie looked delighted to have another potential victim to her scheme, and whirled around to confront him before her siblings could interfere, “B, what Disney Princess would Jason be? Don’t think about it, just first instinct.”

Bruce looked between his four children trying to figure out the context of the conversation, and the possible resulting fallout of his answer.

He looked at Dick imploring, but Dick gave away nothing and just stared expectantly. Dick was not too proud to admit he was now invested in the debate as well.

Upon realizing there was no way out, Bruce sighed and finally said, “Who’s the mermaid one?”

The uproar was immediate.

Chapter Text

Batman was late. The building had blown up, Joker had escaped, and Robin's mangled body was now trapped among the burning rubble. He tried to suck in a breath, but it hurt. Everything hurt so bad. He squeezed his eyes shut against the stinging mix of blood, sweat, and ash. It’s not like there was anything to see regardless.

He tried to breath again and choked on the smoky air infiltrating his lungs. It was getting worse. He could feel the air heating up, it was insubstantial compared to everything else, but still noticeable. The air felt heavy around him; thick.

He couldn’t breathe.

He just wanted Batman. He wanted his Dad. His Dad could fix this. His Dad could make the pain go away.

Robin let out a ragged sob as he tried another breath, the smoke burning his windpipe all the way down. It was useless though. With every breath more smoke filled his lungs taking the place of precious oxygen, until he felt like he was drowning in smoke.

He panicked as he felt, his mind beginning to blur. Oh god, he was going to die. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to choke down another breath, but it was too late.

The world blurred and now the league assassin was being roughly tied to a table, a mask was being shoved over his mouth and nose. He tried to shake it off, but it was only pushed down harder.

…and he couldn’t breathe.

Whatever gas was being pushed through the mask wasn’t oxygen. The assassin was drowning in the air. Green flooded his vision as the panic set in and he fought harder, feeling joints flare in pain and pop as he struggled fiercely against the restraints and the mask depriving him of oxygen to breathe.

League dialectic was shouted around him as he struggled. More hands were on him, holding him down.

He frantically sucked in breath after breath but nothing came. His lungs were burning and his brain was screaming at him that it was happening again. He was suffocating AGAIN.

A league member was shouting again, decreeing that breathing was a privilege. A privilege that was now being revoked for some mistake on his part. A mistake he couldn't even remember.

The assassin didn’t care what it was. He’d do what they asked, just take the mask away. Just let him breathe. He couldn’t keep doing this.

The world blurred, and now Hood was stumbling through a crumbling flaming building dragging an unconscious Tim. His helmet was gone, and the smoke was flooding the room like a swimming pool on a summer afternoon. He banged against the locked door with one arm while clutching his injured brother with the other. The smoke was billowing in faster now, and Hood couldn’t breathe. With horror he realized Tim wasn’t breathing at all. He couldn’t do this, not again. He couldn’t save them. Hood's head was spinning and the world blurred again.
—
Next thing Jason knew, he was falling. He didn’t even have a chance to try to orient before he hit the floor with a hard thud, lacking all of his usual bat grace.

The impact knocked the wind out of him and he wheezed in and out, struggling to breathe. Panicked, he tried to get his arms underneath him to push himself up, but his face and palms were slick with sweat, making it hard to get a purchase on the slippery floor. When he did manage to, he got about an inch off the floor before his hand slipped and he crashed to the floor once more. He landed hard on his left arm, and yelped at the stark pain that flared at the impact.

Alarms blared in the background and someone was shouting, but the blood and adrenaline rushed through his ears droning out a lot of the noise.

‘I can’t breathe.’

Something was wrapped around his hands now and he fought against it. He wouldn’t be tied down again, the Joker couldn’t have him. That wasn’t right…. It was the league. The league was after him? No, he’d been rescuing kids and his brother. They still needed his help!
All his pasts merged together leaving him spiraling.

He flinched as a pair of hands suddenly grabbed him. He fought back against their hold, panic skyrocketing.

‘I can’t breathe.I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.’

His eyes were clenched shut against the smoke he was sure was smothering the air. Surely that’s why he couldn’t breathe? He thrashed against the bindings and hands holding him down. He wouldn’t be taken down again, he just needed to get away, escape the smoke, and then he could breathe. Someone needed help right? He was supposed to be rescuing someone, but he couldn’t even save himself!

His lungs were BURNING, his arm was THROBBING, and he could feel his mind begin to fuzz over from the lack of oxygen.

‘ICAN’TBREATHEICAN’TBREATHEICAN’TBREATHEICANT-‘

Suddenly, the hands weren’t holding him down anymore. Instead, one was stroking his sweaty hair and the other was rubbing an even circles on his chest.

‘What?!’ The league and the Joker would never show affection, ‘Who?’ The oddity of the whole situation shook Jason a little closer to the surface of reality.

Noise slowly started to filter back in.

“Come on Jay. Breathe with me, in 1 2 3 4, hold, out 1 2 3 4 5.” Ordered a steady familiar voice.

‘Bruce’

He tried to match his breathing to Bruce’s count, only now realizing how fast and ragged it had gotten. It took several minutes, but slowly he was able to regulate his breathing down to a somewhat reasonable speed.

“That’s it Jaylad. Good job.” Bruce praised, running his hand through Jason's hair, pushing sweaty bangs off of his forehead. “I’ve got you chum. You’re safe, your brothers are safe, and the kids are safe. Just focus on breathing for me. Everything else can wait for later. Just breathe.”

The little ball of anxiety eased at that, and Jason finally relaxed against Bruce.

“Can you open your eyes for me.” Bruce asked, softly. He removed his hand and Jason felt him shift under him to get a better look at his face.

Jason almost whined at the loss of contact, but since he asked nicely he tried to comply. He slowly pried open one eye and then the other, blinking a few times against the bright LEDs of the Bat Cave Med Bay.

Another bit of anxiety eased off as he recognized his location. He wasn’t in Arkham, or Ethiopia, or Nan Pardet.

He was home.

Bruce cleared his throat to get Jasons attention.

“I’m going to untangle you from the cannula and IV line.” Bruce said. He waited for Jason to nod in acknowledgment before reaching over and untangling all the tubes from where they had become wrapped around Jason's arms in the fall. Bruce moved slowly, telegraphing each movement for Jason as if he was a spooked horse.

Jason felt the heat rush to his face in embarrassment at the realization. He hadn’t been trapped or held captive. He was home and had managed to throw himself off the medical bed, tangle himself in his tubes, and then have a full blown panic attack.

‘Fuck’

“Sorry.” Jason rasped hoarsely, after Bruce had tossed the last of the tubes to the side. He tried to leverage himself up, but Bruce gently pushed him back down once more.

“Hey-hey, don’t move. Just relax for a minute.” Bruce said, adding quickly, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Only now did Jason realize just how hard he was shaking. This sucked, everything hurt, he felt weak and shaky… but at least he could breathe.

Bruce pulled down one of the blankets from the bed and layed it over him to help ease the tremors.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bruce asked, softly.

“No.” Jason said, ‘like hell I want to talk about this Bruce’ he thought.

“Dina’s always available if you would rather-” Bruce added.

“NO.” Jason said more firmly. It probably would have been a shout if his lungs could have spared the oxygen. Sure, he joked about his death all the time. That’s just how he coped, but talking about it, actually talking about it? It was still too raw, even years later.

Jason could tell Bruce wanted to press the issue, but instead he just sighed and said, “Ok, that’s ok.”

His hand returned to the back of Jason's neck, massaging the tense muscles and slowly working their way up to his skull. Despite himself, Jason felt himself relaxing and before he knew it he was struggling to keep his eyes open once more.

“We will be here whenever you’re ready to talk about it chum, whether it be tomorrow or in 10 years.” Bruce said quietly. “Until then, we are here for you. Whatever you need.”

Jason couldn’t say anything past the lump that suddenly filled his throat. Why the heck would that make him emotional?

“Are you ready to get back on the bed?” Bruce asked, after Jasons shaking had downgraded to minor trembling.

Jason nodded; not trusting himself to speak.

Getting up was harder, and more painful than Jason was expecting. Tomorrow he would probably be embarrassed by how much he had to lean on Bruce, as well as how Bruce had to lift his legs back in the bed for him, but for now he was too exhausted to care.

Bruce set up a new cannula line for him and carefully placed it over his ears and under his nose. Jason stubbornly refused to make eye contact with Bruce, and he heard Bruce let out a quiet sigh of resignation.

Jason would never admit how much of a relief it was to get a full breath of oxygen.

However, he refused to sleep. He wasn’t ready to live through all of that again, so stubbornly he kept his eyes open, gritting his teeth in stubborn refusal to be pulled under.

Suddenly, Bruce was hoisting himself up on the bed next to him.

“Do you mind?” Jason squawked indignantly, giving him his best crime lord glare.

It didn’t work.

“The chairs are hard on my back. I need to lay down for a bit.” Bruce said with a perfectly straight face, despite the fact that he was leaning back upright on the cot and not fully laying down.

Jason narrowed his eyes and scowled. It was too straight of a face to be honest.

“Whatever old man.” He finally said with a huff. He didn’t care what Bruce was up to. He wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t-

Bruce’s hand was in his hair once more, working through the endless tangles. His other hand had moved and was now rubbing slow soothing circles on his chest.

“You can sleep Jaylad. I’ll be here.” Bruce, promised.

Finally, Jason understood. He could sleep. Bruce was here and would stand guard against the nightmares for tonight. Nothing would get past his Dad.

“Thanks, Dad.” He said quietly, shifting his head so it rested against his Dads chest. The steady rhythm of his heart beat eased him off to sleep.

“Any time, Son.” Bruce promised softly, gently kissing his forehead.