Chapter Text
Jason knew he fucked up.
He cursed, groaning in pain as much as he could groan, what with the blood seeping from his neck and fire in his chest making it agony to inhale.
He only hoped it was broken ribs, but he couldn’t bring himself to look. The warm wetness he could feel gathering beneath his armor suggested that hope was foolish.
Careless.. stupid.
He is going to die.
Again.
He knows it by the dull, cold numbness spreading up from the agonizing throbbing in his legs and his twitching fingertips applying pressure to his neck. By the dark blurring edges intruding on his vision of the ugly Gotham skyline. By the awful gasping noises he was making with every painful attempt at an inhale. He had felt this way only once before, a lifetime ago in the Ethiopian desert, alone with a clown and a crowbar.
He shivered. The fact that his thoughts traveled back to that particular night made it clear he was in a bad way. Usually he was better able to block out the intrusive flashbacks.
Fuck.
Frantic whispers break through his disjointed awareness.
“ -bleeding real bad -”
“- the Red Hood! Helmet’s off but-”
His body jerked in panic, sure enough feeling the cold breeze on his bruised and bloody face, unhindered by the helmet. He can’t remember taking it off. He can’t remember much of anything really, besides the overpowering sense that he fucked up.
After a moment he felt the small pressure from his domino mask still on his face. Some of the tension left his battered body in the wave of relief.
“ turn him over, oh shit, his neck- ”
He felt warm blood dripping through the weakening pressure of his numbing fingers on the wound. It wasn’t immediately fatal, bleeding sluggishly, the knife having missed his jugular by some miracle. If properly wrapped and stitched he could walk away from it. If it were his only injury he would be relatively fine but –
“ … is that a pipe?”
Ah. That would explain the raging flame burning in his abdomen.
Small hands grasp his face gently. Jason vaguely wonders if he is hallucinating. He feels a slight tug and suddenly a wave of pure agony radiates from his abdomen. Losing all of his senses completely to the pain, he vaguely registers that he is screaming.
“- idiot you’ll kill him!”
“ already dead you can’t lose that much blood -”
“- It’s not all his -”
The tugging stops and Jason’s mind feels sharper from the shock of it. He knows he is in Crime Alley, bleeding on the cool pavement. He had fallen- been pushed - off the roof of.. of ….
Christopher Malone. An ambush. A bloodbath. And Jason had walked right into it.
The wannabe crime boss had thought it was ok to set up shop in Jason’s territory and use desperate street kids as drug runners, getting them addicted to the stuff too. Jason had been disgusted and enraged at Malone’s audacity. It was well known by now that Park Row was under the Red Hood’s protection. He swore it would be the last mistake of Malone's life.
But Jason’s intel was wrong. That was the only explanation. Either his sources had been fed wrong information themselves or he had been sold out, betrayed.
If that was the case they better pray he dies tonight.
The meeting in the warehouse was supposed to be between Malone and his small group of trusted lieutenants. Of course Jason expected the usual hired thugs as security as well, but they could be easily handled.
He was wrong.
The meeting was a front. Instead of the handful idiotic thugs Jason was expecting, he had been met by a swarm of well trained, heavily armed hired guns. No way they were Malone’s. Malone was too small a fish to have that kind of military grade firepower at his disposal.
No, this had Black Mask written all over it. Black Mask and Malone had made some sort of alliance and Jason had been none the wiser.
Stupid.
Laying in the growing puddle of blood, numbness creeping up his body, Jason wondered why he had been forced back to life just to die again in such a meaningless way. He had not accomplished anything. The clown was still alive. Bruce still hated him. His “family” still shunned him like he was just another criminal. He thought he would have more time. More time to make them see that what he was doing worked, that it was necessary.
Would they even mourn?
Self-pity won’t get you anywhere.
At least Jason could go out knowing he took his attackers to hell with him. None survived. He made absolutely sure of that. Never let it be said that the Red Hood went down easy. He pitied the first responders to the scene. He hoped the new Robin lost his stomach over it.
Hah.
Though, considering the little demon was a trained assassin himself, he was probably already well used to death.
Jason managed a small frown at that thought at the same time he realized the whispering voices above his head had quieted.
The small hand remained on his face, occasionally running through his hair in a soothing way. He blearily forced his eyes to open, only managing a pained squint. He could make out a small shape coming in and out of focus to his right side. It was a girl, her mop of dirty blond hair falling into her face, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She looked vaguely familiar, but Jason couldn’t quite place her face.
The blonde girl’s dark eyes widened at his attention; her hand movements halted. “You’re hurt bad,” said the girl in a low voice, “James just went to go get help.”
Jason felt another presence to his left, hovering but not touching. He turned his head, meeting the eyes of dark haired boy, younger than the blonde, blinking back at him owlishly.
Not hallucinations then.
But why are they here? Any half rational Crime Alley street rat should be running as far as they could from the grisly sight of the Red Hood choking on his own blood. The GCPD could very well already be on their way. They also had no way of knowing that the people who did this to him weren’t still around. Even if Jason knew that they were slowly cooling bullet-ridden corpses, these kids certainly did not. And even though he took care of everyone in the warehouse, that didn’t mean Back Mask wouldn’t send more reinforcements.
Jason felt a wave of irritation at their lack of self-preservation. He wasn’t worth the chance that these kids be passed off to the incompetent social workers populating Gotham’s CPS, or the chance that they end up in the hands of one of GCPD’s many corrupt officers. There was no telling where they hell they would end up. No, he didn’t want to be responsible for that.
“ Leave... leave me,” he forced the words past his lips. His voice was weak and his throat burned at the attempt.
The girl’s dark eyes narrowed and she put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t talk,” she said, “I ain’t leaving.”
Jason squeezed his eyes shut. Damned if he was going cause this girl harm just because he was stupid enough to get himself into this situation. “Not… safe,” he gasped out.
Speaking was a herculean effort. Jason’s many injuries flamed in protest.
“No,” The girl’s voice was harsh now, bringing his attention back to her. “You don’t leave us. Ever.” Her hand had resumed petting his hair. “You saved me before, from the bad man, remember? He had me and he was gonna hurt me.” Her gaze was begging him to understand. “You stopped him! You’re always here when we need you.” The girl’s brow was furrowed, expression serious.
“Not like you can make us leave anyhow,” the boy to his left chimed in, tone challenging.
Little shits.
Jason slowly began to realize why the girl seemed familiar to him. He had seen her face before, younger and more terrified. Among a small group of other children being herded toward a van with blacked out windows by a smiling creep. Trying to get away, panicking, only to find the man had cornered them in.
He recalls the blinding rage.
Jason had left the man with shattered kneecaps, screaming in agony as he put two bullets in his groin, before finishing him off with a third to the brain.
God. Had this girl been there when he…?
If she’d had any sense she would have booked it to safety immediately after Red Hood got his hands on the creep. However, considering she was by his side right now when she definitely shouldn’t be, he suspected that may not have been the case.
Jason tried to pull away from her grip and her piercing eyes. Her touch burning his already sore face.
“Get away,” he growled. “Now!”
He made an attempt to push himself into a sitting position with the one hand not staunching the blood still dripping from his neck. His abdomen screamed at the movement and his vision flashed white, but he managed to draw himself up and against the wall of the shadowy alley, away from the two children. As his vision cleared, he felt his body shaking uncontrollably, his breaths coming in quick, wet, pants.
He blinked the gathering sweat from his eyes and saw the girl had moved from her position at his right side, and was frantically waving to someone at the entrance of the alley.
The other kid who went for “help?” Nothing short of a goddamn miracle would help Jason at this point.
“Please..” Jason tried again, his voice worryingly more slurred now, “ get ‘way.” His vision was dimming but he registered a new figure heading toward him quickly, much larger than a child.
One of Black Mask's men come to finish him off?
He snarled and went for his bloodied knife in his thigh holster, finding his fingers uncooperative. The knife clattered onto the pavement, slipping from his grasp. All his energy had been spent getting to the wall. Pathetic.
Strong hands braced against his shoulders. He knew the figure was talking, but his mind was spinning and he was in agony and he couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t realize his eyes had closed until cold fingers pried one open and he was met with a flash of light.
“Really bad B -“
It was harder to breathe now, the fast panting turning into slower shuddering breaths.
“- pupils responding but - ”
He couldn’t follow the words. He must have passed out too because when he opened his eyes again he found himself being held up by strong arms, his head lolling against a warm chest.
“Jesus Christ, Hood.” a voice was saying, a painfully familiar voice. “Please, please Jay don’t die.”
Was that…Nightwing?
Jason was brought in closer to the chest at his back, head resting on Dick’s shoulder. “Red Robin please hurry,” Dick’s voice said from above his head, a slightly hysterical edge to his tone.
Jason heard the squeal of tires and a shout from the street. In the next second, Dick had him in a bridal carry, walking him forward toward the sound.
Jason forced his eyes to open, difficult as it was, taking in the sight of Red Robin opening the side door of the batmobile, urging Dick forward with an outstretched hand.
“Doc Thompkins is on her way to the cave, we need to keep him stable –“ Red Robin’s eyes met Jason’s bleary gaze, and the words seemed to die in the younger teen’s throat.
Dick followed Tim’s gaze, seeing Jason was now conscious.
"Please try to stay awake, don’t pass out on me again.” Nightwing's voice was urgent, forceful, like he could command Jason to stop bleeding by pure will alone.
Hah. So he does care. Jason supposed that was nice to know even if he wouldn’t be able to appreciate it for very long.
At least he wouldn’t die alone this time.
Jason was pulled into the backseat, still in Nightwing’s arms. The movement jarring his abdomen where the fucking pipe was still embedded. How had that even happened? He guessed it must have been in the fall.
He was jarred again, letting out a strangled scream, unable to stop the pained tears from gathering in his eyes.
“Drive, Tim!” Dick commanded, but they were already off.
Blood dribbled down Jason’s chin. He felt it wiped away by shaking hands. “No little brother, you don’t get to do this.”
Jason heard a sniff, felt something wet drip onto his forehead.
...Was Dick actually crying?
Jason’s vision was swimming, the voices in the car were washing over him.
“Put pressure on his neck,” Red Robin grit out from the front of the car, “He’s lost too much blood.”
Jason wondered why his Replacement, Tim, even cared. Why was he helping? With their history, he should want Jason dead.
“And don’t let him fall asleep,” the younger teen continued, “he’s going into shock.”
A sharp pain lit up his right cheek. Jason’s green eyes opened to a pair of baby blues staring back. “Stay. Awake.” Dick gritted out. “You are not dying today Jason.”
Jason’s body shuddered as he broke the eye contact.
“Fck’ you, Dick” he slurred out weakly.
Dick just held him closer in response.