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Dick's not entirely sure how he makes it home. His hands are shaking so badly that he struggles to disarm the security on his window and climb through. He barely remembers to shut it behind him before he sinks to the floor and buries his hands in his hair. His chest feels like it's compressing and it gets worse as the images of the crime scene keep flashing behind his eyelids.
He'd been barely ten minutes too late. The guy was in custody now, but that didn't help his last victim, and all Dick can see are lifeless blue eyes interspaced with streaks of red.
He digs his fingers into his scalp, hoping the pinpricks of pain might help ground him. He's dropping - he knows he's dropping - but knowing doesn't help stop it. It's a sub drop he's hurtling towards too. It makes sense with all the stress and what he just witnessed, but he wishes it was a dom drop instead. He can handle dom drops; he's always been more prone to them, so he knows how to handle them. Jason is the one who normally experiences sub drops, but then again, he rarely experiences dom drops, so they kind of balance each other out.
But it means he's wholly unprepared for how to ground himself from this.
He can't help but think that it shouldn't still be affecting him; he's been in this business so long now that he thought he was desensitised to it. But this one just seemed to hit a bit close to home, and maybe, if he'd just pushed a bit harder, got there a bit faster, he could have prevented it.
He digs his fingers in harder as he tries to breathe, but he feels like he can't get enough air into his lungs.
A pair of hands close around his upper arms and he swings on instinct.
Jason catches his fist easily, too easily , and it causes his breath to catch in his chest again. He's still in his gear and a domino, though his helmet's missing.
"Hey. Breathe for me, Dickie." Jason says, his voice soft but with a hard edge that leaves no room for argument.
Dick latches onto the order and stutters out a breath.
"That's it, just keep breathing for me, slow and steady." Jason smiles. "I'm going to take your mask off, okay?"
Dick nods, not sure he can form words right now. He watches as Jason pulls out his mask solvent and a cloth, and swipes it along the edges of his own mask to remove his domino. Some little thing eases in his chest when Jason's eyes come into view; slightly greener than they used to be, but no less beautiful.
Jason throws his domino onto the sofa before pouring some more solvent onto the cloth and gently tilting Dick's head back with a hand under his chin. He swipes the solvent along the edge of the mask before gently working one corner loose until he can slowly pull the whole thing free. Dick's domino joins Jason's on the sofa as Dick blinks the tears that have gathered on his lash line free. Jason swipes them away with a soft smile as Dick looks up at him.
"Hi, there, pretty bird."
The nickname settles another of the broken pieces that's rattled loose in his chest. "Little wing?"
"Right here." Jason hums. "I'm going to ask some yes and no questions, I don't need a verbal answer, but I do need an answer . Okay, Dickie?"
Dick nods; that's manageable.
"Good." Jason's smile grows ever so slightly. "Are you hungry?"
Dick thinks for a moment and then shakes his head no.
"Thirsty?"
Dick nods.
"Okay. I'll be back in a minute." Jason climbs to his feet and makes his way into the kitchen.
Dick listens to the tap running and tries to stay as present as possible. It's difficult, but he knows if he drifts while he's in a drop that the crime scene images are just going to keep replaying in his mind, ratcheting up his panic and creating a feedback loop he can’t escape from. It's easier to stay present when Jason's there with him, so Dick's glad when he reappears with a glass of water and one of the bendy straws they've all learned to keep for when they're too injured ( or too out of it ) to drink from a normal glass.
Jason folds down to sit cross-legged in front of him and holds the straw to his lips, but Dick has to extend the rest of the effort to drink. Dick gets what Jason's doing, how he's forcing him to do little things and make little choices to try and level him out in the drop.
Jason moves the glass away once it's empty and sets it off to the side. "Better?"
Dick nods and swallows the lump in his throat to give a rough, "yeah."
"Good." Jason smiles. "Bath or shower?"
"Shower." Dick says. He just wants to get in bed and sleep, but he knows Jason won't let him until they're both clean (and he'll thank Jason for it in the morning, but right now, he's not happy about it).
"Okay. Can you stand?"
Dick nods and Jason gives a nod in response before pushing to his feet. Dick takes a deep breath and pushes himself upright on shaky legs, using the window ledge as leverage. Jason stays close enough to catch him if he falls, but makes no move to touch him beyond that.
Once Jason's happy he's steady, he turns on his heels and sets off for the bathroom. Dick follows him robotically. The anxiety and panic are still thrumming under his skin, and he knows they will continue to for the next few days, but he's not in the midst of an actual attack anymore.
Jason's pulled his gloves off and is unbuckling his thigh holsters as Dick enters the bathroom. Jason throws him a small smile, but then turns his attention back to getting undressed. Dick watches him; watches deft fingers undo buckles and buttons, fabric slide over pale skin, occasionally catching on raised scars, until Jason's left in just his boxer shorts.
Jason catches him staring and gives him a crooked smile. "You want some help getting out of your suit?"
Dick nods, not taking his eyes off Jason's as Jason walks over to him.
Jason pulls off his gloves with so much care that it makes Dick want to start crying again. It gets worse when Jason disarms his suit and pulls the zipper down before dropping to one knee to take his boots off. He doesn't even realise the tears have slipped free until Jason stands back up and brushes them away with the back of his finger.
"There was nothing you could have done. I know that's hard to hear and grasp, but you did everything you could, and you made sure he can't hurt anyone else." Jason says softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.
"The kid had the same colour eyes as you." Dick chokes out as Jason pulls his suit from his shoulders and off his arms.
"Dickie, look at me." The order thrums through him and he does. Jason's eyes aren't that shade of blue anymore. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere, not again, not without a fight."
"I know." Dick says. But he doesn't say that he knows Jason fought back last time, that written in the autopsy report next to all the wounds the clown inflicted were the ones Jason got from fighting back, from trying to defend himself. Dick knows he's not that little kid anymore, but there's always someone who's bigger and badder in their line of work, and he wonders how long they've all got until they meet someone that no amount of fighting back will save them from.
Jason seems oblivious to where his thoughts have drifted as he helps him out of the rest of his suit and turns the shower on.
Dick lets himself drift, lets Jason take care of him and get them both clean. Jason's hands gliding over his skin let him keep his focus on the fact Jason's here with him, that he's not six feet under the ground. It's enough to finally level him out and stop the free fall of the drop. Jason seems to realise as he turns the shower off and presses another kiss to his temple in response before wrapping him up in one of his fluffiest bath towels.
Jason dries them both off before leaving Dick wrapped in a towel sitting on top of the toilet lid to grab them both some clothes. Dick stays put without complaint; now he's no longer riding the adrenaline from his panic attack, he feels drained, like he could just fall asleep here on the bathroom tiles.
Jason comes back before he can put that plan into action though.
He dresses them both in soft well-worn shirts and boxer shorts, chuckling softly when Dick practically collapses into him and rests his head on his shoulder.
"Okay, let's get you into bed, pretty bird." Jason swoops him up into a bridle carry and Dick doesn't have the energy to protest that he can walk on his own.
"I love you." He whispers into the skin of Jason's throat. It's not the first time they've said it, but it's not something that happens too often, and it's usually during scenes where Jason's the one who's down; it tends to be the only time Jason lets himself be vulnerable enough to say it. So, Dick's not expecting a reply, he just needs Jason to know.
He gets one though.
"I love you too." Jason whispers back, pressing a kiss to his forehead before setting him down on the bed. He pulls the duvet over Dick and takes a step back.
Dick catches his wrist. "Stay."
Jason smiles and pulls his wrist out of Dick's grip, but he only walks around to the other side of the bed. "Already told you, I'm not going anywhere."
Jason climbs under the covers and Dick rolls over to bury his face in Jason's chest. Jason wraps him up in his arms after making sure the duvet is covering them both and tucks Dick under his chin. Dick feels safe and level for the first time all night.
"Goodnight, Dickie."
"Goodnight, Jay."