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“Come on, idiot. Stay with me.” Red Hood grunted as he pressed the gas to make his motorcycle go faster.
Nightwing had come out on the wrong side of a fight with Killer Croc and was now steadily losing blood from several punctures and gashes.
He had stopped responding, but Red Hood just pushed his bike faster.
He had to make it to the cave.
And he had to get there fast.
“Night. You're going to be okay.”
Not even a twitch.
That wasn't good.
They reached the tunnel entrance and roared up it.
He'd already sent a message ahead, so the med bay was prepped and ready for them.
They just needed to make it.
He got to the cave and slammed on his brakes, leaving a line of rubber from his tire on the stone floor all the way to where Bruce and Alfred were waiting for them.
“He's been unresponsive for four minutes.” Jason conveyed quickly, ripping off his helmet.
Bruce nodded, lifted Nightwing, and hurried to the med bay.
“You, too.” Alfred put a hand on Jason's shoulder, but he just shrugged it off.
“Dick is the one who's hurt. He needs help.”
“You're bleeding as well.”
Jason looked down at the red liquid soaking the front of his suit.
“I'm fine.” He shook his head and pointed up the metal stairs to the cave’s medical room. “It's not my blood. Dick needs you.”
Alfred hesitated for only a moment before nodding and heading after Bruce and Dick.
Jason waited until they were gone to heave a sigh of relief.
Dick was in good hands.
He'd gotten him help.
He shook his head, adrenaline starting to fade, and swung a leg over the seat of his…
Yyyyy
Why… was he on the ground?
Jason blinked up at the stalactites above him, stars dancing in his vision.
He was in the cave..?
But why?
There had been a fight-,
Nightwing!
Nightwing had gotten hurt.
Jason had driven him back to the cave and…
With one shaky hand, he reached up and felt his chest.
It was wet.
And sticky.
Blood.
But where-, wait.
What was…
It felt like a hole.
Right in his armor.
Damn it.
He’d thought that he'd gotten away.
How had he missed that?
Groaning, Jason held one hand over the hole and used the other hand to brace himself against the cold, stone floor.
He managed to sit upright, but had to lean back against his motorcycle and breathe deeply until the cave stopped spinning.
“... help…”
He wasn't sure if he'd made a noise or not, but he knew that no one was coming.
Gritting his teeth, and trying his best to keep the wound covered, Jason put a hand on the seat of his bike and pushed himself up again.
This time, he made it to his feet.
“... Alfred…” he grunted. “Br’ce.”
The cave darkened.
No.
His vision was darkening.
“H-help.”
One step away from the support of his motorcycle.
Another step.
And another-,
His knees gave out and he hit the ground again.
This wasn't good.
How much blood had he lost?
How long had he been out?
He needed to reach help.
“Bruce…”
Were they still working on Dick?
Or had they finished and gone upstairs?
“... ‘fred…”
His vision grew darker and he felt himself sway to the side.
No.
He needed to keep going.
Make it… up the stairs.
He could do it.
He…
He couldn't do it.
The stone chilled his already freezing body, scratching his cheek as he lay there.
“Jason!”
Who was that?
“Duke, Cass, Tim! Help me get him up!”
Stop yelling.
“Jason, can you hear me? Stay with me! You're going to be okay!”
“Br’ce?”
“That's right. That's right, it's me. Keep your eyes open.”
Jason tried.
He really did.
He just felt… too tired.