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Jason was moving slowly – sloppily. The bags under his eyes were dark, the kind of exhaustion that was noticeable from across the room.
Yet he hadn’t backed out of the sparring competition the bats had set up for themselves.
It was supposed to be friendly banter, a way to win bragging rights for a bit.
Jason was sparing against Tim, he had already won against Damian. His anger at having been tripped was his downfall.
But now Jason was lagging. His movements were delayed and his hits barely registered. Everyone watching knew it was an unfair fight.
When he fell to his knee for a fourth time he caved, “okay, I’m out. You win. I’m exhausted,” he complained as he used the bamboo bowstaff to help himself get off the floor. Much like an old man would use a cane to lever themselves up..
A chorus of ‘boo's' and ‘go take a nap ' and things of the sort were heard from the peanut gallery as Jason turned his back to walk off the mats. No one knew exactly what was going on in his personal life, all they knew was that he hadn’t been himself for a while.
Cass just cocked her head, like a dog when they hear a novel sound.
“Come on,” Tim had playfully countered. “Don’t be a wimp.” He had swung, hard. Aiming for Jason’s hip on the side without the cane. Jason had noticed in time, but he had been to tired to efficiently move.
He turned, trying to pivot with the swing so it could rush past him.
He hadn’t been fast enough.
The full force of the swing hit him in the genitals.
He dropped, hard.
The grunt of pain had been instantaneous. Ripping out of his clenched teeth before he had even hit the ground.
A chaos of ‘oof’s, wince’s and laughter rang out from the peanut gallery.
An annoyed Damian instantly teasing “I can’t believe I was bested by you. Get up, Todd.”
As Dick gained control of himself he walked up to Jason, lightly kicking him in the back as he laughed out “you good, Jay?”
Then 30 seconds had passed. The laughter died down as Jason continued to lay on his side, right hand between his legs, panting as he kept his chin tucked to his chest.
Tim, awkwardly standing three feet away, bowstaff in hand could see that Jason’s eyes were screwed almost painfully shut.
Then Dick knelt down beside him. “Jay,” he said as he rubbed his brothers back. “Come on, you’ll survive. It sucks for a bit then your good,” he stated as he tried to sit Jason up.
“Ahh, fuck, don’t” come through Jason’s gritted teeth, causing Dick to freeze in his ministrations.
The deafening silence had seemed to summon Bruce. “What happened?”
“Tim accidentally hit Jay in the family jewels,” Steph explained as she was tapping her hands for her own spar against Dick.
The meticulous movements of weaving the material over and through her finger froze as Jason pulled his hand from between his legs.
It was covered in blood.
In an instant, Bruce was beside him, barking orders to the others. “Tim, call Leslie. Damian, prep the med bay.”
Dick was taking off his hoodie, balling it up to form a makeshift pillow as Jason replaced his hand between his legs, whincing as he made contact. “Everyone else, out of the cave,” he finished before he turned his entire attention to Jason.
“Jason, report,” Bruce demanded of his writhing child on the floor.
Jason just shook his head, causing Dick to glance at Bruce with concern.
“Jason…”
“... I felt a pop…” he all but whispered. The rustling of bats above and movement of those leaving the cave were enough to keep the admittance to the three still on the mats.
0o0o0
Jason was high. Even with his eyes closed he could tell there was a bright light shining on his face from above. His throat felt raw with each breath – the faint smell of antiseptic tainting the air around him. His limbs gained a thousand pounds each and there was a constant, steady beeping.
Med bay.
His spar with Tim.
He had had reconstructive surgery for a ruptured testicle.
Fuck.
Mentally preparing himself for the harsh burn of the LEDs above, Jason blinked his eyes open. He laid flat on the hospital bed, his family surrounding him in various positions as they all entertained themselves, waiting for Jason to awaken.
Dick had noticed him first, ever the mother hen. “Hey, little wing. How ya feelin’?”
Jason high as a kite from the anesthesia still flowing through his veins, looked at everyone one at a time. Canvasing the room from one side to the other. There was a fluid bag to his side, as he followed the tubing he realized it was connected to an IV in his arm, still feeding him painkillers and likely anti-inflammatories.
He had forgotten what Dick had asked, or if anyone had even spoken at all. Instead he looked directly at Tim, his head lolling as he had moved too fast. He lifted the the arm without the IV and pointed directly to Tim. “We’re ev’n fo’ ‘i’an’s ‘over” he slurred. Then immediately passed out from the drugs again.
(“We’re ev’n fo’ ‘i’an’s ‘over” = we’re even for Titans Tower)