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The fight had taken too long. What had started out as simply breaking up a smuggling operation, turned into a much bigger fight when a rival gang showed up. Jason had been forced to call in backup when it was clear he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the number of goons.
Now he stood off to the side, panting while the other bats finished securing the goons and waiting for the police to arrive.
Dick started heading his way, and Jason suppressed a sigh. He didn’t want to deal with any of them right now. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was get to his safehouse and collapse into bed.
“Hey, Hood.” Dick’s eyes scanned him, and Jason tensed. “You good? No big injuries?”
“Buzz off, Golden Boy. I’m fine.” he rolled his shoulders back and winced. Great, now Dick looked concerned.
“Are you sure? You’ve got a lot of blood on you.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “It’s not mine.”
“Hm.” Dick narrowed his eyes and scanned him again, focusing on Jason’s right leg. “You’re leg alright? It looks like you took a hit there.” he gestured toward Jason’s calf.
Jason didn't bother looking. He was fine.
“I said I’m fine. Since you’ve all got things handled, I’m heading out.” He took a step forward and hissed as pain flared up his leg. He cursed to himself, gritting his teeth.
Dick darted forward only pausing briefly when Jason growled at him. He crouched in front of him and Jason barely resisted the urge to kick him away. The only reason he didn’t was because his leg hurt.
His brother’s hand reached out, but paused before touching his leg. “Hood,” he said hesitantly, “I’m pretty sure, your leg was shot.” He looked up at him, his expression worried, and Jason was glad for the helmet that hid his grimace.
He had to admit to himself that it was possible, that he just hadn’t felt it amidst the chaos.
“I’ll take care of it.” he ground out, the helmet’s modulator making it sound like a growl.
“Do you need a ride?” Dick asked, standing up. At least he was keeping his distance.
“I said I’ll take care of it.”
Dick narrowed his eyes and placed his hands on his hips.
“You came on a motorcycle didn’t you? How do you plan on riding back with your leg messed up?”
Jason grit his teeth. “I’ll walk.”
Dick huffed, rolling his eyes with his whole body to make his exasperation clear. “Just let me give you a ride back and help stitch you up.”
Jason didn’t want that, and he was about to say so, but the adrenaline was starting to fade and he could suddenly feel a whole bunch of other scrapes and nicks where bullets or blades had come just short of piercing him. He didn’t want to need Dick’s help. But as he looked around the warehouse, he knew that he wouldn’t get away without someone forcing their help on him. At least Dick was tolerable.
“Fine.” he gritted out. Dick beamed at him, and Jason turned away. He only allowed his brother to duck under his arm to help guide him toward Dick’s bike because his leg was starting to really stinkin’ hurt. No other reason. And he definitely didn’t lean into him. Nope.
That was just the exhaustion.