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Jason woke up slowly, the pain coming before full awareness. He peeled his eyes open slowly, struggling with the weight of gravity and a raging headache. The first thing he noticed was that his wrists were screaming, his shoulders joining the chorus. His ribs ached as if someone, or several someones, had laid into him. Wouldn't be the first time. He looked down and saw his feet dangling a few inches above a dirty concrete floor. Okay. He was hanging from the ceiling by his wrists. Also not the first time.
The next thing he registered was a sound. Screaming. Jason jerked in his restraints, coming more fully to his senses as he recognized the voice. Nightwing. Dick was screaming in the other room, close by but far from help.
Jason glanced around the room, seeing he was alone. That was good. He had to get loose. He had to go help Dick. And that would be a hell of a lot easier without an audience. He glanced up, assessing his situation. He was suspended from a long metal pipe that ran most of the length of the room, before ending at a sprinkler head. They had used thick rope to bind his wrists, rope that was currently, painfully, cutting into his flesh.
Too easy.
His wrists were raw and bleeding but he swung his body, jerking forward inch by inch across the pipe. Every inch gained burned like fire. Blood dripped down onto his face. His shoulders felt like they were ripping from their sockets. But he kept moving, propelled forward faster and faster by the pain in Dick's voice on the other side of that wall. At last he reached the end of the line and with great effort cleared the rise where the sprinkler head hung, dropping to the floor.
He landed almost soundlessly in a crouch, despite everything, and wasted no time tugging the ropes from his bleeding wrists. He shook his hands out, flexing his fingers and trying to get some feeling back, then rose and crept silently to the door. Trying the handle he was both shocked and relieved to feel it turn easily in his hand. Amateur hour. Rolling his eyes, he tentatively pushed it open and poked his head out to look around. An empty hallway.
Everything was quiet for a moment; then he heard a soft thump, fist hitting flesh, and a grunt. A moment later the crackle of electricity and another scream from Dick. Jason tensed and crept quickly across the hallway on the balls of his feet. He peered through a small glass window into the room. Dick was tied to a wooden chair and a masked man was pressing a cattle prod into his side. Jason almost burst into the room right then and there, but he noticed another man standing off to the side, AK-47 in hand.
He didn't recognize either of these idiots. Low level goons--how had they gotten the jump on Nightwing and Red Hood? How had they even known who they were?!
That didn't matter now. Jason took a deep breath, forcing his heart rate to slow down. He glanced around then grabbed a bottle and headed to the window at the end of the hall. He threw it out with as much force as he could manage, satisfied when it smashed loudly on the ground several stories below. Hopefully it had been loud enough. He ducked quickly into the shadows of the corner as the man standing guard burst from the room and ran towards the stairs to check it out. Alright, that should buy him a few minutes.
Jason eased the door open, praying to a god he didn't believe in that the hinges wouldn't squeak. Someone was listening; the door opened soundlessly. Across the room, Dick's head was hanging low to his chest and he was panting heavily as the masked man paused his torture for a moment to light a cigarette, his back to the door. Jason just needed him to stay like that long enough for him to get the jump on him.
Dick raised his head weakly and his eyes met Jason's. They widened in shock, ever so slightly, then dulled again as Dick got in on the plan. He moaned weakly, hoping to get the man's attention. It worked. The man glanced up, prodding him with his foot and laughing.
Jason snuck further into the room, creeping towards them. Then his luck ran out. The man swung lazily around, probably checking for his companion. He shouted when he saw Jason and fumbled in his waistband, pulling out a Glock and aiming it wildly. Jason charged him and the man started firing. The first shot went wide though the sound was enough to nearly deafen them all. He fired again, just grazing Jason in the side. Jason cried out, stumbling, but his momentum kept him moving forward. The man fired again and hit Jason in the thigh this time. That one was bad. Jason stumbled but he was close enough now to tackle the shooter and they both went down together.
Jason landed heavily on top of the man, struggling for the gun. He punched him in the face and the man in turn dug his knee into Jason's injured side. Jason cried out, then punched him again, but the guy wouldn't quit. And he was surprisingly strong. Jason had his wrist in a tight grip but the gun was being forced back up, closer and closer, trapped between them, aiming towards Jason's face.
Beside them, Dick was frantically trying to break free, scooting the chair across the floor until it at last toppled over, breaking apart beneath him. He scrambled to his feet, desperately disentangling himself from his bindings and rushed towards the two men struggling for the gun. Then he reeled back as another shot rang out, deafening in the enclosed room.
Dick wasn't sure what had just happened but he wasted no time in springing forward and kicking the man hard in the face. The guy's head snapped back with a sickening noise and he went limp, the gun falling from his hand. Then Jason groaned and collapsed on top of him.
"Jason? Jason!"
Dick dropped to his knees and grabbed Jason by the shoulders, rolling him heavily off the dead man. The young man was bleeding profusely from the shoulder where the bullet had blown through him at point blank range. His side and leg were also bleeding heavily and his face was ashen, his eyelids already beginning to flutter.
"Jason, hey buddy, look at me," Dick murmured.
He froze as he heard a creak from behind him, then he grabbed the gun from where it had fallen. He spun and fired just as the second man came back into the room, hitting him right between the eyes. The man dropped with a thud, his weapon clattering to the floor.
Dick didn't waste another second on him; he dropped the gun and dug through the first man's pockets until he found a cellphone. He dialed Kory's number with shaking hands and as soon as she answered, blurted out lightning fast directives to triangulate the call and send an ambulance to their location. He didn't know where they were or even how long it had been since they'd been taken, and he didn't have time to figure it out. Trusting Kory to take care of them he disconnected and pocketed the phone before returning his attention to his brother.
Jason was still conscious, but barely. Dick cupped his face in the palm of one hand, tapping his cheek gently.
"Jay, stay with me."
He pressed his hands hard against Jason's shoulder and Jason flinched back, groaning as Dick dug his palm into the bullet hole.
"I'm sorry Jay, I gotta, you know I do."
Dick glanced around frantically for something to staunch the bleeding. After a moment his eyes landed on a roll of duct tape. Perfect. He pushed himself heavily to his feet, swaying a bit as a flash of pain rolled over his body. No, not yet, he needed the adrenaline to keep him going until he could take care of Jason. Dick shook his head to clear it then staggered to the nearby table and grabbed the duct tape. He quickly wound it around Jason's seeping thigh wound then pulled him to a sitting position to wind more around his chest, stemming the blood from the flank wound. At last he slapped some over the entry and exit points of the shoulder wound.
"That's gonna have to do it for now buddy," he said in a weak voice. "Come on. We gotta go."
Dick touched his brother's face, gently shaking him. Jason was even paler now if that was possible, his skin cool to the touch, and he was starting to tremble from blood loss and shock. He was looking around the room in confusion, eyes half-lidded and a bit panicked.
"Wha--Dick?"
"It's okay buddy, I got you."
Jason exhaled softly as his eyes slid shut. Dick took in a deep breath, his injured ribs protesting at the effort, and slid an arm beneath Jason's legs. His other wrapped around Jason's back and with some effort, Dick hoisted him into the air and staggered towards the door. He felt a sharp pain in his knee and tried to ignore it. Jason hung limply in his arms as Dick shuffled slowly down the hallway until he got to the top of the stairs where he paused, panting heavily. He looked down, counting at least three flights to the ground floor, and groaned. Jason was a dead weight in his shaking arms.
"You know," Dick grumbled, "this would be a lot easier if you were awake."
Jason chose this moment to crack his eyes open again. "Wha's...hap'n'?" he slurred out weakly.
"Oh nothing," Dick huffed out as he began to descend the stairs one by one. "I'm just...lugging you down...three flights of stairs...because you got your ass shot...saving mine."
"Three flights?" Jason asked, eyelids fluttering weakly as he slid back into unconsciousness. "Too...easy..."
Dick breathed out an exasperated laugh but tightened his grip and picked up the pace. Even if Jason could joke, he was not doing well. Neither of them were. Dick stumbled but caught himself on the railing with his shoulder, nearly overbalancing and falling onto his butt. He righted himself and kept going. Behind him, a trail of blood followed them down the stairs.
On the second landing he felt the phone vibrating in his pocket. Kory maybe, freaked out and calling him back. Or maybe whoever had sent those thugs to nab them. Didn't matter. Dick had one goal right now, one singular purpose in life and that was to get to the bottom of these stairs with him and his cargo alive and in one piece.
He hit the top step of the last staircase, puffing like a smoker, legs wobbling weakly, knee throbbing. He could hear sirens outside and prayed they were coming this way. They had to be. Kory never let him down.
Dick reached the ground floor and nearly collapsed--but he wasn't done yet. He had to get Jason outside so the ambulance could find them quickly. He glanced down at the young man in his arms. Pale as death, long eyelashes soft on white cheeks. He looked like he was already dead.
No, no, no. Dick couldn't do this again, he couldn't lose Jason again, not like this, please, please no.
Dick was outside. He was on his knees in the dirt. He didn't even know how he'd ended up there. He raised his head, his tear-stained face illuminated by flashing red lights as the ambulance pulled into the lot and came to a screeching stop, sirens wailing. They sounded muffled and Dick belatedly realized he still couldn't hear very well from the gunshots upstairs. Or maybe that was the shock.
All those stairs. How had he made it down all those stairs?
Someone was trying to pull Jason out of his arms and he instinctively pulled the boy tighter to his chest with a cry. Then he heard a voice he knew.
"Dick. Dick, let them help."
It was Kory. Kory was there. Her face swam into view, her beautiful red hair filling up his vision until all he could see was that, red flashing lights reflecting off red hair. Her hands were on his flushed cheeks, cool in the warm night air.
"Dick," she was saying in a soft, soothing voice, cutting through all the noise. "They're going to help Jason. Let them help. Let him go."
Dick collapsed back onto his heels, letting out a quiet sob as he felt the weight leave his arms. Then paramedics were whisking Jason away onto a gurney, barking out stats and numbers, and he was out of Dick's view. Dick shivered at the sudden absence despite the heat of the night, soaked in Jason's blood, and he felt Kory wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. He brought his arms around her back and fisted his bloody hands into her shirt.
"They need to look at you too Dick," Kory said at last. "Let them look at you too."
Dick mumbled objections but soon he was being led into a bright, white ambulance as well. He squinted at the harsh light as they laid him down on a gurney. Kory climbed in with him, and sat down beside him as the paramedics worked. He could feel himself losing consciousness, now that he'd done what he needed to do. The last thing he felt was Kory's hand squeezing his.
****
Dick woke slowly, floating back to consciousness as if on a lazy river, in no hurry to get there. He blinked his eyes open at last to see that he was in his old bedroom at Wayne Manor. Bruce was sitting silently beside him, softy rustling a newspaper. Dick blinked in confusion. Bruce was home? He never came home anymore. Something terrible must have happened to get him back here.
Jason. It all came flooding back.
Dick shot up in his bed, breaths coming short and panicked. Bruce leaned forward and put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Easy son, easy. You're okay."
"Jason!"
"Jason is okay too," Bruce assured hm, pressing him gently back down onto the bed.
Dick let himself lean back against the pillow, inhaling slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.
"They really did a number on you, son," Bruce said in a soft voice, barely masking a tremor. "Three broken ribs, four broken fingers, a broken kneecap, multiple electrical burns and a concussion. It's a miracle you made it down three flights of stairs with Jay in that condition."
"How is he?" Dick demanded, barely listening. "Is he okay?"
"He'll be alright. He lost a lot of blood but he's stable now. Tough kid, you know."
"Doesn't make it better," Dick said coldly to his father. As if being tough somehow meant Jason suffered less. As if he should always endure more.
"No," Bruce agreed, regret in his eyes. "No, of course not. That's not..." The man sighed wearily. That's not what he'd meant. Was it? Somehow he always messed it up when it came to Jason. When it came to both his sons really.
"Can I see him?" Dick asked, interrupting his brooding thoughts.
"If you go slow," Bruce admonished.
Dick threw the sheets back and swung his legs over the side of the bed, hissing in pain as his knee twinged. He looked down at the heavy brace with a grimace. Bruce helped him to stand then silently handed him a crutch.
"I put him in the room next to yours," he said with a small smile. "So you'd be close."
Dick nodded then hobbled out the door and down the hallway.
It was always so odd being back here. Especially now, in his pajamas. In some ways, he felt like a little kid again. Like things were like they used to be. And now, for a brief moment in time, everyone under one roof. One big happy family... He wasn't sure how that made him feel.
Dick paused at the door, took a deep breath (yup, ribs still hurt) and knocked gently. After a moment of silence he pushed it open tentatively, poking his head around the side. Jason was lying in bed, his face turned away from Dick. Maybe he was asleep. Dick slipped around the edge of the door, shutting it quietly behind him and limped over to the bed. He dropped heavily into the wing chair beside it, unable to suppress a soft grunt.
At the sound, Jason turned his head and looked at Dick. Wide awake after all. Typical.
Dick cleared his throat, trying to find the words to say. Jason spoke first though.
"You okay?"
His voice was soft and rough; weaker than Dick was used to. Discomfort clawed at his insides, the fear from the whole ordeal rushing back. The fear of almost losing Jason.
He forced a smile, pushing it down. "Yeah, I am. Thanks to you."
"I don't actually remember what happened," Jason said in an almost bored tone. "Enlighten me."
"We got caught. You recklessly risked your life and saved us."
"Reckless? Me? I'm sure my plan was the height of finesse and meticulous preparation."
"You charged an armed man and got shot three times for your trouble," Dick said wryly.
"I saved your ass," Jason reminded him in a weak voice.
'"That you did," Dick agreed with a small smile. "Thanks."
Jason waved away the gratitude uncomfortably. "No big deal." He shifted in the bed, pain flickering across his face. "Besides, it was only one guy," he scoffed. "Too easy."