Archive of Our Own

Alaric Castellano, a low level capo of the Castellano crime family, Romero Castellano's youngest and only surviving child. Having been nicknamed "Loose Lips" since he's got a pair on him, the same of which are quite widely known to spill secrets into any nobody's ears. Almost a year into leaving his family's legacy, a fiance with a baby on the way having given him a new perspective on crime. On life. Perhaps. Except he's the only living witness to a massive federal corruption case and somehow nowhere to be found. Some word of mouth information that seemed to have stemmed from that idiot himself (if Jason was to be honest) and led all the way through Gotham's underbelly of crime lords (Jason being one of them).

One Alaric Castellano, who wants to live life as a free man about to suffer the consequences of being the Oracle of Delphi albeit a halfwit at that. One Alaric Castellano that was his case, to then the GCPD's, to then Batman's, to now assigned to the Nightwing and the Red hood. And being the key word here. Yes. It's a team up. The thought of which sends an ache down Jason's optic nerve, he does best to remind himself it could be worse. 

"The safe house is located across the river, a 3 day hike according to my calculations. No traversing roads, no cell service, no landing zones. You know what that means", Bruce had said in the usual clipped tone reserved specially for mission briefing. Relaying information as if they didn't already know. Of course he knows what that means. 

"Who put him there?"

"Believe the land could belong to the Castellano to begin with. A good hiding spot for any adequately trained mercenary to fail finding their way through."

"I don't understand, if we know about his fiance and unborn child, shouldn't their protection be a priority?", Dick interjects, a question Jason saw coming miles ahead.

"You know that because I know that and I know that because I have my sources among the Castellanos who now know better than to betray him", Jason answered with a lilt that could only mean a retort. Bruce exchanged looks with the both of them. Part of Jason knew he was already questioning sending the two together. 

Survival. That's what Jason understood this mission meant when he read what they were getting into. And if Jason's anything, it's durable. A stubborn unrelenting force he knows Bruce is aware of. Moreover it was Jason's case to begin with, most of the information they have is his resourcefulness. Dick on the other hand, Jason isn't quite sure apart from the fact that the guy went ahead and volunteered himself. Ulterior motive or not, Jason does not know yet.

Thus here they are, posed as civilians. Hunters, to be precise. Carrying all thats licensed and not. Plan to camp along the trails, avoid detection, get to the safe house, extract Castellano and hand him over to the PD. If it were up to Jason-

"We all know what you're thinking and I would be remiss if I didn't remind you the man has a baby on the way. Sole witness means he can probably go back to living as a civilian under the department's protection", Dick starts, talking stride in front of Jason with slow careful steps. 

"I wasn't gonna kill him, Dickhead."

"Sure you say that but I saw your face filling up those blanks in your gun."

If Dick could see Jason behind him, he would right now be worrying about the split second it took for Jason's face to sour. This fucking shit again and again with this damn family. 

"Yea, maybe it's got something to do with how not a single one of you trusts me to be non-lethal with my choice of weapon", barely 5 minutes since they entered the woods. Barely. 

Dick stops and half turns with a sign. He opens his mouth to say something.

"Don't. Just shut up. Let's get this over with."

To think the week only just started.

Day 1. Jason thinks to himself. Maybe he should've brought a journal, start tracking his slow miserable descent into mental instability as Dick starts humming the tune to here comes the sun for the umpteenth time. The sun's long gone actually, they've set up camp and prepared a fire, going through each of their rations well planned out. 

"What's the matter with you?", Dick asks. He had stopped his humming. Jason was now looking up at him, at the light from the flames dancing shadows on his face.

"What?"

"I don't know", he shrugs, "the constant huffs, the occasional kicking of the rock, you're bothered."

Jason let's off a dark chuckle, "And you care?"

Dick frowns, full fledged, unmitigated annoyance wraps his face.

Jason shrugs back at him like Dick had done before, "Maybe you like to volunteer to play pretend but this was my case-"

"Again about that-"

"Yes", Jason interrupts, louder than before. "Yes it is about that. No big deal right? Tell me how it feels when nobody trusts you to take care of your own shit."

"Me volunteering was never about not trusting you, Jason", Dick's voice was now leveling his own, louder with each word uttered out. 

They're quiet for a while. Staring at each other, the sound of the flickering flames, the crackling of the wood, only thing between them. Jason knows he doesn't want to fight. He knows Dick doesn't either. He sighs, looking away for a second then back to his brother's face staring back at him with the same unwavering intensity.

"Look, can we just do one thing I say?"

Dick's face softens. Its jarring how instantaneous it is. However nothing much changes apart from that. "What would that be?"

"We skip this whole camping bullshit and beeline for the safehouse. You and I both know we have the capacity to make it there in less than two days without making stops. The time we're killing with all this", he waves his hand around the whole set up, "its just.. we can handle it."

It's Dick's turn to sigh, tapping his foot as he's staring down looking deep in contemplation. Jason knows what's coming though.

"This is supposed to be a gentle extraction, Jay. One that we can't let anyone get the whiff of-"

"And who even would-"

"We don't know that. We really don't. Whether the mercenaries being sent after our guy know about this safehouse or not we can't be sure. Just.." 

A bout of silence lingers.

"Why did you come, Dick? To point and identify birds like we're in some nature documentary?"

To think of the audacity of one Dick Grayson who actually managed a smile at that. "It was one time. And it was a red-tailed hawk", he raised his eyebrows like it's general information. "You have to admit they're magnificent."

"No I don't and you're deflecting", Jason states, matter-of-factly. 

As another bout of silence spread like an entity taking shape in their presence, Dick cleared his throat. He stretched his legs in front if him, his boots only mere inches away from the fire and Jason felt an urge to smack them away. He leaned on his elbows and looked up at the sky.

"Y'know", he started, "I used to love camping. The circus would set up near the mountain sometimes. Ma would make stew for us while we set camp, and when all was done we would sit under the stars, hearing stories from both of them."

It sounds nice, nice in a way it flashes memories from a time long lived, Bruce, his gloves, Jason's hands, a tent half made, canned soup. Jason flips away from it, shuts the door. Jason... doesn't know what to say. So he doesn't. 

"I think for the longest time...", he pauses, now no longer turned up to the sky but looking at the flames. Then he shakes his head, "I don't know." Then he looks at him. "You wanna know why I came? I don't know. Everything about this mission brief, it sounds low risk, simple extraction for us, not that I am underestimating it. I thought I could get to spend some time with you while we deal with it."

Dick stood up, brushing the dirt off of his clothes, "Besides, two is better than one. Bruce would've never sent you alone."

"Bruce didn't send me anywhere", Jason replies but Dick is already waving his hand away, walking into the tent. Jason sits out by the fire for sometime. That sometimes stretches longer and longer and before he knows he's asleep where he's sitting. 

The barely touched memory of Bruce and his half made tent still lingering in the crevices of his mind.

Jason's on edge. And the edge is getting sharper every passing minute. It's the second day and it's been raining since dawn. Rain that they had expected and prepared for but that doesn't mean it was welcome its stay. 

Dick is uncharacteristically quiet behind him. His shoulders are hunched against the rain, his boots squelching in the mud the only sound apart from the thundering, the downpour. His jacket is useless, and he thinks Dick's must be too, water has seeped through every seam. His hair is plastered to his skull, and water drips constantly from his chin. Flowing down in his face, trickling from his ears, eerily familiar in a way-

He shakes it off. Shuts the door. Not now.

"We should find shelter", he suggests. Only stopping to look ahead as Dick comes to a pause next to him too.

"A cave? Maybe an overhang?", Dick says and Jason spares him a glance, hearing the chatter in his voice. He frowns. Dick has a hood over his head but it does nothing against the punishing, relentless downpour that has turned the trail into a river of mud. He's got his arms crossed, making his stature smaller than he is and Jason wonders if it's self soothing or a way to trap the warmth. 

Their gear, seemingly not as soaked as them considering its waterproof but regardless, harder to carry with each step and though Jason knows he himself can manage the brunt, he doesn't know about Dick. He wants to ask. He also doesn't know how to. He lets it be.

They walk some more. Or perhaps more than some, he can't tell. It is until they do end up spotting an overhang and their paces increase in the eagerness of the relief to be washed over them. Jason drops the bag, immediately starting to take off his jacket. Dick follows suit. Jason spares a glance at him, noticing the shivers racking his whole body as he's rummaging through his bag until his hands fall on something. He pulls it out. The emergency blanket.

A few minutes in, Jason managed to get a fire going, pulled up the only other piece of clothing he had carried, a hoodie and laid out both their clothes across the ground to dry them out. At least as much as it could. He takes out his compass, checking the direction as he begins unfurling the map they had not needed so far. 

"Well at least we're still on track."

He's met with silence. He turns to look at Dick, seated in front of the fire with the blanket wrapped around him, his eyes fixed at the entrance of the overhang. A few seconds of observation attest to the shivers still running through his body. 

"Dick?"

He turns to face him. He stares for a second before looking down at himself as if taking note of.... Jason doesn't know what. Jason isn't sure how much his new set of clothes and the blanket are working. Jason is mildly concerned. Just a tinge. If it's the rain, if he's sick, does he need some space or should he-

"We should share", Dick's voice takes him out of his rumination. 

"What?"

"The blanket. We should share", then after a pause since Jason doesn't respond, "I know you have your own but it's better we just open one for now."

Momentarily he finds himself debating whether to go with 'I'm fine' or 'Are you sure'. Instead he steps towards Dick, lowering himself down next to him, the map and compass now discarded back into the bag. As soon as he's next to Dick, warmth envelopes him and a chill runs down his spine at the sudden change in temperature, the touch. Dick shifts closer but doesn't do much beyond that. They just sit, a little distant, a little awkward under one blanket.

"Seems like we have a track record of hating the rain in this family", Jason mumbles out as he leans back against the rock. 

He can't see but he can hear the smile in Dick's voice when he speaks, "Told Bruce once it must be something to do with being a Bat."

"Or a bird", Jason adds, stifling a chuckle.

"I remember loving it though", Dick speaks and despite being leaned back from the exhaustion Jason fully faces him to listen with intent. "My ma, something about her was so infectious when it used to rain."

Dick spares a second of eye contact before turning away with a shake. "Just... not the same anymore."

"What changed?"

Dick looked like he was contemplating something, building and breaking sentences in his mind. "It's.. something. I can't talk about it." His voice quieter than it has ever been. Jason doesn't push. Instead..

"Yknow, downpours like this were practically a death sentence in the Alley. Specially when I was in the streets. Some nights worse than the winter and when I say the winter", Jason let's out an audible sigh, an enough of an exclamation. "Its not that though."

"Its the coffin. For me. Don't remember much from the night I crawled myself out except that there was pelting rain", and the bleeding nail beds, the taste of formaldehyde, the smell of rot and one name on his lips. Just one. That he knew. Even before his own. Shut the door, he tells himself and so he does. "I walked the streets, I remember passing faces. But the rain was everywhere, watering my eyes, my ears, my nose." He looks up at Dick to see a frown taken its shape on his face, his eyes sparkling. "Its all I think about now. When it rains."

"Jay, I'm-"

"Let me guess, sorry? What for Dick? It's", Jason shrugs, a half lopsided smile. "It just is."

"Are you okay now?"

"Are you?"

Dick leans back fully, eyeing the flames and Jason eyes him. His face carrying a tiredness maybe Jason has not seen in ages. A tiredness Dick doesn't easily show on his face. It dawns on Jason how he looks older than his age but simultaneously so much more younger.

"It was a case, somebody I was.. I dont know. I thought I could help."

Jason remains quiet, allowing for the silence to draw out. He doesn't wanna push, he doesn't care if Dick wants to talk or not. He doesn't know if any of it will be any help. 

"She was... I dont know. She", his voice cracks and Jason's eyebrows leap it seems. He sits straight, the blanket falling from his shoulders, forgotten. He turns to see Dick, eyes squeezed shut facing away from him partially, drawing in shaky breaths.

"Dick?", Jason thinks about leaning in closer, thinks about his palm and Dicks shoulder and thinks about putting it on his. He doesn't do any of it. He doesn't know if he's welcome to. If he would ever himself-

"I think she", a sob wretches its way out of his throat and Jason's brain starts working overtime. Trying to connect the dots, to fill up the sentence. 

I think she-

Jason feels his breath catch as he sits up on his knees, shuffling in front of Dick who was now shaking harder than before as sobs rack his body. His hands hover for a few seconds then they drop. 

I think she-

"Dick", he tries to get his attention but Dicks just turning away further. He is so far from comfort right now. He doesn't know if this is just a breakdown or some flashback. Yet again he doesn't know what to do. "Dick, I'm going to touch you okay?"

Despite saying that, he makes no move to close the space between them. Dick exhales another loud shaky breath and twitches towards Jason. It's barely there. Minuscule movement of the muscle and Jason knows. Jason's there then. First his palm which lands on his shoulder, moving to his back as he mutters meaningless comforts of "you're okay, it's just me" to Dick. He moves his second arm and Dick slowly leans in, embraced in the hold. Jason doesn't think about it.

I think she-

Jason doesn't think about it.

The next morning is barely any better. Sleep didn't come to Jason. Barely an hour of shut-eye and he stopped trying. At least it stopped raining. He changes back to his earlier set of clothes which is now only a bit dampy. He assumes the same would be for Dick. 

Dick who is still fast asleep, turned away towards the entrance of the overhang. Shallow breaths and deep rises of his chest under the blanket. Jason packs both their stuff before stepping out. The sun is out. He lets the warmth touch his face, extends his palms out and feels the rays hit and breach his skin. They should get a headstart on the day. They've already half a day of trekking as is.

He turns back inside to see Dick standing up and folding his blanket. Jason walks in and grabs a water bottle, walking over to Dick with it extended out. 

"Morning", he says.

Dick nods, grabbing the bottle then a small kit from his backpack and grunts at Jason. Jason wears his amusement on his face when he steps out again, allowing his brother the privacy he might need. Fast forward a few minutes they're back on track. It's uneventful, the rest of the trail and Jason's pace must be just as unrelenting as yesterday's rain given Dick is pausing for more small breaks.

Jason doesn't comment. It's not that Dick can't, or doesn't have it in him. In fact Jason could bet Dick's stamina could outlast him except for the fact he doesn't want to bring that to light. He thinks it's some reminiscent weight from yesterday. He thinks it's the gear weighing him down. The sun has started its descent and they still haven't stopped to camp. Jason doesn't say anything.

And as if on cue, having read his mind, he hears Dick drop his bag. “I think we’re done for the day, Jay”, he says, already rummaging through and getting the sleeping bags out to reach the rations. Jason starts collecting dried sticks, becoming routine now for him and he can feel building some sort of a skillset in that particular area if that even counts for something. They work on getting the fire started. 

“Humor me, if this really was a camping trip who would you have chosen to come with?”

Jason quirks his right eyebrow at him, his look incredulous as ever. He takes the lid off his canned beans, eyes still dead set on Dick’s face who seems to have his usual non-chalance plastered on his face. 

“Are you seriously asking me that question?”

“There’s a reason I started with ‘humour me’”, Dick responds with a shrug, taking in a spoonful.

“And what makes you think I’d wanna go camping with you lot”, he says, his voice a nudge softer than he would’ve liked as he stares down at his can, the bean soup inside so much more interesting than anything else that could meet his eyes. “In case you’re forgetting, nobody in your family likes me.”

“My family is your family, you moron”, a twig hits his shoe, seemingly thrown by Dick as a companion to his words.

Jason eyes Dick for a moment, watching him take yet another spoonful of the canned bean soup. He leans back and lets the tension he had been holding in his shoulders drop, only then realizing it had been there. “Fine, I’ll humour you. Dad that I tried to kill who then tried to kill me too, older brother who was never around suddenly wants to be a part of my life”, he doesn’t pause but he also did not miss the expression drop and defensiveness take shape on Dick’s face. “Younger brother? I don’t even fucking know what our relationship is… who I tried to kill, sister who hates my guts just for existing-”

“Cass doesn’t hate you”, Dick interjects. 

“Oh she does, she can’t stand me.”

“It’s cause you’re never around. Jason, nobody, I mean it, nobody in this family hates you.”

Jason scoffs, “Yea you all just have your own ways of coping with ‘someone like me’ I suppose.”

Dick puts down his can, perhaps all cleaned up on the insides by now. The frown he’s wearing getting deeper by the second, “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“I died, Dick. I was the kid that died. Coming back didn’t change anything. Made things a lot worse if you ask me. You can’t get over your guilt, little old daddy bats can’t stop missing his good soldier, Tim thought me a hero and I-”

“I’m not saying we’re perfect, I know it’s been… difficult in the past, but you being here? Alive? You have no idea how much that means to all of us.”

Jason is rendered speechless for a moment, looping around the words, trying not to hang onto them. He can’t. He won’t let himself. 

“You do know that right?”

Met with silence yet again, just Jason and a spoon clicking at the bottom of the bean soup can. Was this the first time someone told him that? That couldn’t be true. But then again he whole heartedly believed his resurrection was for no good. Only brought more pain to him, to everyone around him, made him so much more miserable than he had been before. Jason exhales, straightening up as if a decision was made. 

“Steph and Duke.”

“What?”

“Who would I like to take camping? Steph and Duke. She’s fun, Duke’s cool, we share patrol routes some nights. I think I would pick them to go camping.”

“Oh-”

“What, disappointed I didn’t say you?”

“No”, Dick retracts in a way that only feels out of embarrassment. “No, you’re.. I mean, I think I could’ve guessed that. You do tend to come around when Steph’s around and everybody in the Manor knows you take Duke out for secret tutoring lessons-”

“WHAT-”

“Don’t even deny it, little wing. We started keeping tabs when his grades in classic literature improved. I mean imagine that from the guy who did not care even a slightest bit because he’s a “STEM dude” and apparently that’s how they roll.”

Jason tries not to catch onto his old nickname being thrown at him out of the blue. Tries being the key word here. “Don’t call me that”, he mumbles out.

“What, ‘little wing?’ Can’t call my younger brother a nickname?”

Jason laughs, cold and harsh. Purposefully digging. “Nickname? Don’t even try. We all know why you called me that.”

Dick dares to actually look confused, “And why is that?”

“You hated that I was Robin. You hated me, you could not bear looking at me in that stupid suit with that fucking name. Afterall, I stole it from you, right?”

“What the actual fuck are you even talking about?”, Dick’s voice ranging the same vocality as Jason’s. He stands up, just at the absolute mess of a conversation that they were having but towering Jason was probably not a good idea who himself stood his ground and took a step forward. “I never-”

“Liar! Fucking pathetic. Lie to my face, go on”, Jason takes another step, a shove at Dick’s shoulder but its testing. It’s softer than anticipated. Jason looks far from it though, his mouth drawn in a firm scowl that makes him look 13 again under the campfire flames. His eyes though. Blazing green, with an odd yellow to it. 

“I agree shit was complicated but I never fucking hated you. It was not about you Jason, or the fucking name. You didn’t take it, you earned it. You g-”

“Enough. I don’t wanna hear it”, Jason’s shoulders drop just as easily but the tension doesn’t leave. Jaws clenched, he looks away and brushes past Dick to his sleeping bag. “Forget it.”

Dick grabs him by his arm and pulls him at which Jason doesn’t budge but does turn around to look Dick dead in the eyes and brush his hand off. 

“No. No we are not done. You can’t possibly… Jason, have you really felt this way all this time?”

Jason doesn’t say a word. Just walks to his sleeping bag and tucks himself in for the night. 

“I said forget it.”

“Jason-”

A small rock is chucked his way which Dick lets hit him square on his bicep, “I’m tired, sleep or shut up.”

Dick stands still, staring at the lying mass of his brother, turned away from him. Shut away from him. All the things he wants to say, needs to say. Needs Jason to hear it. Believe it. 

Dick always did ask himself where did they go wrong but now he wonders were things ever right to begin with.

Day 3 they're finally met with the huge glade at the center of the forest. A safehouse sitting almost to the middle of it all. It looks like a rundown cabin at the edge of the woods; cracked windows, a sagging porch, the smell of mold, mildew and neglect. Unlivable might be overselling it but it comes close. It's exactly the kind of place no one would look at twice, which is why it's the perfect hiding spot.

Dick pushes open the creaky door, Jason right behind him. Immediately met with a man who is huddled on the shabby couch. There he is, Alaric Castellano. He looks... old. For his age. The file said 32 and the guy could be close to mid-forties, paunchy, wearing a cheap suit that's seen better days. His eyes are wide as he takes in the sight of the two of them at the door. Dick pities, can't help it. He's been here for three days, waiting, terrified. 

"Wha- who... who are you?"

Dick holds up his hands at Castellano's sharp shrill cry. He tries, nice and easy, voice calm and reassuring, "Relax, we are here to help."

"Help? Who sent you", he stood up, arms wrapped around himself as he steps around the couch. He looks like he wants to come closer but that could also be tp dash out the door behind them. As if on cue, Jason closes it. 

"Doesn't matter. We're your extraction team. We're doing the extracting", Jason cuts in.

"Extraction? I thought ... I thought the FBI was coming! They said... They promised my safety."

"You do not want to be involved with the FBI right now, pal. We're working with someone appointed by an extensive unit at the PD. Everywhere else is compromised. Come with us, or die", a shrug, like its a choice between pizza toppings. 

It has the opposite effect. Castellano backs into a corner, arms up defensively, face white. "No! No, I'm not going anywhere with you."

Dick brushes past, hands up and voice gentle as he closes in but maintains distance, "You don't have much of a choice than to trust us. We're working for someone who wants you alive. Someone who wants you to testify. Put the people away who want to do you harm."

"What the fuck? This was never about testifying", his voice raising with every word. "I... the deal was to make me disappear. If not, my family-"

"What, you think they're safe?", Jason says with enough bite in his voice to send Castellano cowering again. "You think you can run and hide and it will all pass like it never happened. The people after you are not the kind to forget."

"Look", Dick steps in. "We can understand. We have navigated situations like these before. Worse. Believe me when I tell you, the select few in this case are all working for you and your family's safety ", Dick drops his bag and unzips the side corner, he takes out a note and what looks like a picture. "Penny, right?", Dick asks, holding up the picture then passing it over to Castellano along with the note. "She's safe, under the PD's discreet protection. Sends her regards. Maybe give that a read, whatever she has to say."

Castellano doesn't need to be told twice, he does so. Once he's done reading, he's silent for a moment. Then runs a hand through his already haphazard hair. His eyes darting from Dick to Jason and then back. 

"...She really thinks we should take the chance", then he starts pacing behind the couch rubbing the back of his neck, "Fuck... fuck!"

Dick allows him some time. Next to him, Jason is tapping his foot rhythmically as his fingers on the doorknob twitch impatiently.

"Fuck... okay. Okay I'll go with you."

"Great", Jason says feigning enthusiasm and Dick is sure he's rolling his eyes if he could see him right now. He continues, his voice flat, "Lets move, we're burning daylight."

"You're...", Castellano starts hesitant. "You're not gonna hurt me, are you?"

Jason turns to face him, really look him in the eye with this sharp coldness. "Not unless you give me a reason to."

Dick steps forwards, "J, enough", then turning to Castellano, his voice dropping "He's not going to hurt you. He's just... he's not good with people."

"I'm plenty good with people, Dickhead. Great, actually."

Jason then looks at Castellano, something shifting in his expression, "Look man, you're just trying to survive. We're here to help with that. Lets work together and get this over with, yea?"

Castellano nods.

"Great, pack what you need. We got a long walk ahead."

They make 6 hours on foot, break for a few mins then 2 more hours. That gets them to the sun beginning to fall down the horizon and Dick decides to set camp. Jason gets the fire going, Dick takes care of the tarp and the sleeping bags. They had carried extra knowing Castellano wasn't gonna have one on him. After a while, they're sitting around, fire crackling between them. Castellano and Dick are on the same log and Jason is on the other side, clearing out his gun he hasn't used in days.

"So... you two related or something?"

Dick's eyes move to Jason, who's focused entirely elsewhere. Dick isn't sure if he even heard the question, if he was even meant to. "Yea", Dick says, a small smile on his face. Thinks about leaving it at that. Then thinks about what it means for him. “Brothers.”

Castellano nods, opening his can of tuna. "So... how'd you get into this line of work?"

Dick stifles a laugh, "Well... something of a family business?"

"What, dad cop or something?"

"Oh no, far from it. I was once, but not here. Not Gotham", he leaves at that. 

They're quiet for some time and then Castellano breaks the silence again. "You don't really look much like cop."

"I wouldn't take you for a mobster either."

"Ex, remember?"

"How about we put this wonderful bonding over the campfire to bed", Jason interrupts. "Early headstart tomorrow morning."

They were making good time. They've been on foot since having left the safehouse, pausing for small sips and bites but if anything, Dick is surprised by Castellano. The guy has managed to keep up with their pace without so much of a grumble of complaint. From what little he's spoken (which is surprising given his nickname), he seems knowledgeable and capable of holding his own. Its a relief if anything else. Two days of trek left to get to the extraction point. Dick trudges on. Perhaps they could try making it there by tomorrow night itself. 

They were making really good time and Dick was about to suggest setting camp as they reached what looked like a spacious enough glade. They have a few minutes of light left on them, best to use that on-

A loud snap reverberates through the woods, that which Dick is sure is metal meeting metal in some ways. What follows is a strangled scream sounding almost akin to that of a wounded animal. Its a sickening sound, both in that succession. Dick turns and he sees things in steps, eyes darting around to find the source but first meeting Castellano who's eyes are wide and horrified, looking transfixed by whatever is infront of him. Almost immediately Dick follows his line of sight to find Jason. One knee on the ground, he realizes, because his other leg seems caught on something. 

Suddenly he's very aware before he's even got a full look with the way Jason is crouched, his face out of sight. Dick feels his blood turn to ice. Of all things, a bear trap. A fucking bear trap.

"Jay?", he's about to step forward when Jason raises a palm to stop him. He let's out a ragged gasp. Then sudden rapid breaths that Dick can tell he's trying his best to control. Shit. Fucking shit.

"Ja-"

"Dick..", Jason breathes out. Then looks up at Dick, shaking his head, "Don't.. Dick don't come any closer."

Dick understood. Gang setting. If one trap is laid out theres a possibility theres more in closer proximity. Dick takes a slow careful step. Then uses his stick to feel the ground in front of him as he makes his way towards Jason. Jason who is right now close to hyperventilating as his own hands hover over the contraption. 

Once infront of him, Dick falls to his knees, taking off his backpack and gesturing to Castellano to get to him. Now that he has a full view of the situation, he can fully inspect the extent of what they're dealing with. It's an old rusted bear trap. The jaws; wide and jagged, the teeth crusted with rust and dirt, have clamped down just above his ankle. They've torn through his boot, through his pants, through flesh and muscle. Blood is pooling in the dirt beneath him, dark and spreading. Now to find out whether there's any damage to the bone but by the looks of it, and the state of the trap, doesn't seem likely. He looks up from the trap to Jason's face which now looks starkly grey-white, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth might crack.

"Talk to me, Jay", he says, waiting until he has the wraps on the situation to actually do something. Right now he just wants to hold his brother, manage any semblance of comfort he can his way.

"It's... It's old. Rusted. Probably set years ago", teeth gritted, razor sharp edge of control to his voice. "I.. it's..", Dick now notices the tremors starting to rack his frame, his shoulders shaking, its the fight or flight being triggered, the adrenaline overload his body is going through at the moment and the very obvious immense pain. "Didn't see it, under the leaves, didn't see-"

"Hey it's fine, it's okay. Just breathe, I'll get you out. I'll get you out okay", Dick tries his best to sound as reassuring as he can, as confident as he can although he's not sure if thats even what Jason needs right now. His hands continue to hover, over Jason, over his leg, over the trap, terrified to touch and equally terrified not to. He turns to look at Castellano who looks a few measures more horrified than he would have expected. Half a heart to ask him if he could do something about this, Dick doesn't know if he can do this alone. Doesn't want to be the only one to subject his brother to the pain that's coming for him in an attempt to get him out. He also knows if anything Jason would trust him to do that, to do something, and he holds that right now.

"Okay... okay.. Just hold still", Dick says as his hands run along the rusted surface, getting the feel of it. He cringes internally at the layers of rust he's sure he can't fully get off Jason. A lingering thought of possible infection that now seems unavoidable. 

He hears what seems like a scoff in between the heavy breathes. Right. Hold still, he had said. He starts cataloguing, and without realizing, starts verbalizing, "so its old, which means the springs are old and from the looks of it.. I think I can pry it open. I can try to pry it open", he looks up again trying to catch Jason's eyes. "Jay? I'm gonna try to pry it open", he waits, Jason doesn't think much about it and nods. The tremors making his nods look more frantic. 

Dick holds the jaws, fingers flexing a bit, hands getting slick with the blood that now covers almost every bit of the trap. He tests a tug and feels the blood loosening his grip. He rubs his palms on his legs and prepares himself, physically and mentally. He knows it was going to be hard, he just needs to power through. Without another split second to waste, he grabs the jaws with both hands. Testing his grip again, he plants his boots in the mud, and pulls with everything he has. He feels his muscles scream. His palms feel the punch of the ruggedness and he's sure he's not coming out unscathed. In the back of his mind he thinks of the gloves in his pack and curses at himself of not having thought of them sooner. Right. His brother's leg is stuck in a bear trap. A bear trap that doesn't seem to budge no matter how much he putting in it. Not even a millimeter. 

It's until he hears Jason let out a strangled scream, his body folding in on himself and twitching and Dick realizes the movement is grinding the rusted teeth deeper into his leg. Fresh blood wells up, dark and thick, flowing through his fingers now.

"Stop... Dick sto-", cut off by another cry. Dick pulls his hands away, horrified. Jason looks up, he's been leaning all his weight on his left arm which is now trembling with such force. 

Dick opens his mouth to utter another set of reassurances, "sorry"s and "its okay"s except that its not and as if on cue, Jason's arm gives away and he lists sideways about to hit the ground when Dick grabs him. 

"Shit... Jay! Jay, hey", He needs to make sure the leg doesn't move, needs to contain the damage. Needs Jason awake, needs him alert. He's now holding what seems like most of Jason's weight if not full and tries to shake him, as gently as possible. 

And as if the universe was prepared to make things any worse, Jason mutters, "Nauseous."

Dick nods then slightly releases his hold on Jason, moving around him to grab him from the back and leans him slightly to his left. "Okay, it's okay. I've got you."

For a moment nothing happens and then Jason heaves. First few seconds and nothing necessarily comes out and then some bile with mostly clear liquid. Dick rubs his back, as close in proximity as he can manage to Jason's ear and continues uttering nonsensical comforts. He realizes how useless it is, hell he doesn't know if Jason needs it but he does it regardless. 

"You're okay, you're doing good. You're okay, Jay", until it seems like the bout has subsided and Jason sinks before Dick tightens his grip again and pulls him back. "Hey, no. Stay awake. Jay?"

"'M up. I'm 'wake"

Dick curses internally, looking back at Jason's leg and it's quickly dawning on him how they probably don't have much time. It's getting darker, he can't see the blood from Jason's pants and seeping into the ground, unable to assess just how much he's lost so far. His eyes lands on Castellano standing in front of them, keeping a little distance. Their eyes meet. Dick beckons him to come next to him.

Castellano is awkward in his movement, perhaps remembering the whole thing about gang setting and trying to make sure, in his own way, he doesn't end up in one. Once he's positioned behind Jason, right next to Dick, Dick pulls him closer and passes Jason so he's leaning into his arms. "Hold him, can you do that?", that earns him a nod. "Make sure you hold him tight." Don't make him fall. Don't make him hurt. It goes without saying he thinks to himself.

Then turning to Jason, "Jay? I'm just gonna get something from the bag okay? I'm g-"

Jason grabs his sleeve and Dick doesn't have the heart to shrug him off but he also doesn't have much time left. When he pulls Jason's hand away, the grip loose in itself, Jason let's out a moan, pushing away from Castellano's hold.

"No.. Don't", his eyes are wide, almost feral with the way they maintain contact with Dicks own. Under the dull blue bleaching the sky, the green almost looks luminous. Like an animal in the dark, Dick remembers the argument the night before, Jason’s eyes shining green, makes a mental note to check back on that with Jason. When they're... when things are better. Right now though-

"Don't leave. Please", and Dick curses himself. He's delirious. He's delirious with pain. Dick needs to move. Move fast. He can feel Castellano's eyes on him. Dick stops pulling away and leans closer for a moment. He puts his hand on Jason's hold on his sleeve. 

"Jason. Jason look at me", he tries as much as he can manage in the dark to keep his eyes intent. "I'm right here okay, see?", he points at their bags, urging Jason to look that way. To see for himself. "I'm just gonna get some stuff we need. It will be okay. I'm right here."

He waits until he can physically see some awareness seep into Jason's eyes. He waits until he gets a nod. An affirmative response. "See? Good. It's okay", he doesn't bring up Castellano, or him being the one holding him. He isn't sure if Jason is aware. Once he's sure its registered, he moves. Swift. Doesn't take him long to find a piece of cloth. He takes out the gloves he had thought about. Sets down the first aid kit cause he needs to be quick and get on with the wound the second Jason's is free. Lastly grabs the flashlight. He's about to put the gloves on when he remembers the tiny cuts from the rust and quickly pour a bit of rubbing alcohol just to be safe. Its not ideal. It only burns and might not even help but yet again he's reminded he doesn't have the time.

He shuffles towards the trap now, using the cloth to wipe away the excess blood. A blessing in disguise, he realizes, that the wound is not arterial. He turns on the light and examines the trap mechanism more closely. There's a release lever near the hinge, but it's rusted solid, he can see the formation of a large mass of orange-brown corrosion. He tries to force it with his fingers. Nothing. He grabs a rock and hammers at it, hard clicks reverberating around the trees. The lever bends but doesn't budge. He starts desperately working around the lever, now gloved in leather so there's no holding back. 

Its not working. He runs the flashlight along the lines. This time examining the trap's hinge mechanism, and bingo, a weak point. A rusted bolt connecting the two halves of the jaw.

"Okay. I'm going to try to break the hinge", he starts, not really addressing anyone but hoping to God Jason can hear him. Is aware. "It's rusted. If I can wedge... something.. something in and use it as a lever, I think", he goes back to the bags, this time Jason's. If his bet is right... aha– crowbar. "Okay", he first walks back to Jason, "Okay, Jay? I might be able to pop the jaw open just enough to slide your foot out. But it's going to hurt", he pauses, waiting for a response then repeats, "Jaso-"

"'s fine.. Just get me out", he eyes the crowbar, then back at Dick. Dick nods, tapping his untrapped leg's knee.

"Okay... okay", he grabs a hand towel from the bag and hands it to Jason who looks at it questioningly. "Bite down on this", Dick explains. With the way Jason had been clenching his jaw, the last thing they both need is another injury. Plus, it helps. He's sure it's something to do with sensorial distraction. 

"Okay", he prepares himself as Jason bites down on the towel. Castellano grabs hold of both his arms without Dick needing to prompt anything and sends a curt nod his way. "Okay, Jay just pull as soon as I say okay? You have to pull your leg out when I say."

Even in the dark, he can see Jason's eyes blazing with pain and determination. Or its just the green that Dick keeps telling himself is not freaking him out even a tiny bit. Jason speaks around the towel in his mouth, "Just get it over with, Dick."

Dick puts the flashlight between his teeth and positions the crowbar.

"It will be-"

"Dick, just do it", Jason grits out again.

Dick throws his weight on the crowbar. The hinge groans, a sound like grinding teeth. Dick can sense Jason's body as it goes rigid, a muffled scream tearing out of his throat as the movement grinds the rusted teeth against his leg. Fresh blood wells up, hot and dark. Somewhere he hears a grunt from Castellano but doesn't dare look away. Dick pulls harder, his muscles screaming and he feels a singular sweat trickle down the side of his face despite the chill in the air. 

"Come on", he mutters under his breath, grunting in effort and voice cracking.

And he thanks the heavens the second he hears a crack, a sound almost music to his ears. The rusted bolt snaps and the hinge gives way. Dick feels relief wash at the sight of the jaw releasing just a fraction of an inch. Dick drops the crowbar and grabs the jaws with his bare hands, wrenching them open. 

"I've got it", he says around the flash light, then turns to the side and drops it to the side, "I've got it, slide out Jay, NOW-"

A raw cry with his voice cracking and Jason manages to pull out his leg and almost instantly Dick lets go. The jaws snap shut with a sound like a car backfiring, the metal clank echoing around them.

Both of them collapse. Dick on his knees, panting, immediately taking his gloves off and reaching for the flashlight and the first aid kit. Jason on Castellano, his face white as a ghost, his chest heaving. "Fuck... fucking hell", Jason manages out.

Dick works fast. He gets Jason to lie down, taking out the towel from his mouth. Using his own sleeves to wipe away some left over spit and bit of blood. "Jason?", he says, lightly tapping his cheeks. He grabs the bag again and puts it under Jason's head. "Jay, stay awake."

"Uhmmf", the only response he gets but he figures thats the most he can expect right now. He gets Castellano to hold the flashlight and direct it towards Jason's foot. He cuts off Jason's boot in all its pathetic state; it's mangled and blood-soaked, the leather coming apart almost like paper. The wound is ugly but he didn't need to assess it to know it. Deep. A ring of puncture marks around the ankle, the flesh torn and shredded. The bone is intact; miraculously, he thinks to himself. It's... it's a whole mess. Of muscle and tendon.

He puts on a pair of nitrile gloves, placing a sheet under Jason's foot. He does a water wash, grabs cotton in a pair of tweezers and starts dabbing it in rubbing alcohol. As soon as it touches the puncture, Jason twitches. 

"Just a minute, Jay", he knows it's not going to help much, he can't prevent the damage already done, just brace for it. Cleaning the wound doesn't take long but it's still oozing blood. He packs the punctures with gauze and wraps the pressure dressing as tight as he can. He looks at the compression band in the first aid kit, contemplating its need but decides against it. The wound is not arterial nor is it actively bleeding. 

"Okay", he looks aside to find Jason sitting up on his elbow looking right at him. He nods at him. "Its not the worst. You're going to be fine."

"You're not a very good liar, Dickie", the exhaustion caught in his throat, Jason blinks blearily. The green is gone, Dick takes note.

Dick shakes his head, taking off his gloves and grabbing a bottle of water. He opens it and places it under Jason's lips, one palm under the back of his head to help him take small sips. "Not lying, you're going to be fine. You're going to be so fine its annoying. You'll be back to threatening me to stay away tomorrow morning."

Jason manages a few sips, more of the same spilling down his chin. He lays him back down. "Castellano and I are going to set up camp, we're going to get some food in you and then pain killers and then sleep okay?", Dick says, running one hand through Jason's hair, relieved that no heat was radiating off his forehead. Just yet, Dick is reminded and he will prepare himself to deal with the same but they will be fine. They have to be.

"You..", Jason starts, then clicks his tongue and swallows, "you... didn't leave?"

Dick's eyes don't waver. He doesn't let them. His voice is surprisingly thick when he says, "No, I didn't. I said I won't, little wing. I'm not leaving." He allows himself a second. God knows he needs it. Then gets to work.

Dick manages to get a few spoonfuls of canned ravioli in Jason, who keeps repeating he can't anymore and that he's nauseous and that it tastes like foot. He gives up. He looks at Castellano who is right now boiling water in a washed empty soup can on top of the campfire. He ends up eating the rest of the ravioli before moving to get the pain killers.

Jason and his relationship with painkillers is one mystery for the lot of them. As a boy he would never take one no matter how badly he was hurt, no matter how much they'd try to convince him it's not an opioid and he needs it. Coming back from the pit, on the few occasions he's used it, he's burnt through it like his metabolism running haywire. Hell, medical grade anesthesia doesn't work for him which has been a horrifying ordeal when he'd woken up in between surgery. Dick bites his lips and shakes out three, then two more and brings his palm to Jason's mouth. 

Jason stares at him, then the pills, seemingly contemplating. Then opens his mouth and lets Dick drop them in. He swallows with a swig from the bottle and starts laying back down when Dick stops him.

"Sleeping bag", he says matter of factly. "How's the pain?"

"It's fine", Jason brushes off his hand as Dick tries to take his temperature. "Jus' tired."

And Dick feels it. He doesn't know how long its been but now that Jason seems somewhat stable and he's managed a fire going, he can feel the adrenaline wearing off. He needs to get the tarp ready, he hasn't-

"Hey", he looks at Castellano, now standing next to him, holding out the boiled water. "The tarp, I can set up", he says, then gesturing at the can and Jason behind him, "You take care of him." Dick opens his mouth to protest only for Castellano to beat him to it, "Hey, I can be of use, y'know", he says with a tell tale smirk marking his lips.

Dick thanks him, taking the water from him and turning back to Jason's leg. He lets Castellano do his thing. For a while it seems he's just looking around until he finds a sturdy fallen branch that almost looks knee-high. Dick looks at Jason to find him intent on Castellano himself. Dick smiles.

"He helping?"

"Seems like it", Dick seats himself next to Jason's leg and pulls it into his lap. He starts taking off the dressing. "Just some cleaning before we turn in for the night and then first thing tomorrow morning."

"You think that'll amount to anything? It's my immune system versus whatever era this trap was set in."

"Gotta do what I can do", and he somewhat doesn't like the determination leaking from his voice. He knows Jason isn't going to appreciate it, is going to think it some self righteous bout following his perpetual guilt. Well, on another hand, Jason can deal with it. 

The wound doesn't look too different given much time had not passed. A little inflamed which was expected. Goosebumps run along Jason's skin. Dick works slowly, the wound is ragged as is, in a terrible state and still weeping some blood. Once done with it, Dick puts the previous pressure wrap aside to boil later as he's pretty sure they'd need it at the rate they have to keep cleaning the wound. Then applies a fresh pair, tight and secure. Once done he looks at Jason who's now shivering. The temperature dropping is not helping. 

Castellano approaches them. Throwing a thumb back where he set up the tarp and Dick can see all three sleeping bags now lined up inside. It's not much but it'll protect them from the wind or impromptu rain in case the universe wants to test them any further. "Need help moving him?"

Dick shakes his head, "Thanks, I've got this", he looks at Jason, "When you're ready."

"As I'll ever be."

He slips his arms under Jason; one behind his shoulders, one under his knees, and lifts. Jason is heavy, a good few pounds over Dick all but dead weight at the moment, but Dick has carried heavier. He's carried heavier when he was more tired. He can do this. Things are about to take the turn for the worse, he knows it. So no matter how many times, he's got to do this.

He carries Jason to the shelter, Castellano following suit, and lowers him carefully onto the makeshift bed. Jason hisses in pain as his leg shifts, which is more than enough Dick needs to see and know what that means for him. Jason just clenches his jaw and breathes through it. He partially elevates the injured foot on his folded hoodie. He thinks for a moment before picking up his own sleeping bags and beginning to drape it over Jason.

"What're you doing?", Jason says, his tone incredulous and undeniably annoyed. "You need sleep, Dickhead."

"Temperatures about to drop further, you're shivering already. Besides, I'm keeping watch."

"For what?"

He gives Castellano a weary glance, knowing full well all his concern right now is directed towards Jason. Still he tries, "Mercenaries?", with all the awareness that Jason's gonna call bullshit and call bullshit he does. Jason pushes away his sleeping bag and tries to lay it back down. 

"We've been fine so far, there's nothing to worry about. Just go to bed."

In all honesty there's nothing more Dick wants to do. Collapse onto the bag, wrap the blanket, sleep away the exhaustion and the chill. He's fine. He did fine. Jason's warm. He's sheltered. The wound taken care of, clean and bandaged. Infection has not set in just yet. He could. But even if he could.

He gives in. He shifts his sleeping bag so it's right next to Jason's, who rolls his eyes but doesn't say a word. Castellano takes his place in his own sleeping bag, turned away from them. Dick lies down, tugging at Jason's arm and letting his grip stay. He will move if Jason does something about it but he doesn't so Dick assumes he needs some of that too. Its lights out for him as soon as his head hits the bag.

And the next thing he registers is this low keening sound. It sounds distant, so lulled until it isn’t and it’s like he's pulled back into his body as he sits up to meet the site in front of him. Jason– mumbling, unintelligible. Terror contorting his face that looks stark white and shining with sweat under the dull remaining light of their camp fire. He's beginning to thrash and before Dick could get hold of him, he pulls his injured leg and puts weight on it. A broken shriek follows, and Dick is thrown into action. 

"Jason, Jay!", he grips his shoulders and shakes slightly, already feeling the heat seeping through. He places his palm on Jason's forehead, wincing at the expected heat again, he's burning up. "Jay, wake up!"

"No... no, no please. Please don't", he's close to hyperventilating and this much movement is only causing more damage. Jason continues to jerk violently as if trying to get away from Dick. Then he screams, the most gut wrenching he's ever heard. Its almost blood curdling and sounds like its stealing away what little oxygen Jason's getting into himself. Dick sees Castellano jump out from the corner of his eyes. He slowly approaches and Dick takes the message.

"Hold him. Hold his legs. He'll hurt himself", he tells Castellano as he himself grabs hold of both of Jason's arms and moves behind him, wrapping it around him as if holding him in a back hug.

"Jason, you're okay, Ja-"

"No.. NO GET HIM OFF ME, GET HIM OFF. I CANT", Jason tries to shy away from an enemy only he can see. But his body is giving out. Castellano is doing a good job holding his legs together and Dick's got him secure as hes mumbling empty promises into his ears.

Jason's eyes snap open and they're wild and frantic,  unfocused as they try to take in the scene. He keens again as he tries to pry his arms out if Dick's grip.

"Shh you're okay, you're okay. It's just me. Just Dick. You're okay."

"Dickie?", the childhood nickname will never not catch him offguard. Dick swallows the lump forming in his throat.

"Yea kiddo, it's me. You had a nightmare", he waits for Jason to process, to let it sink in. Waits until the shudders decrease substantially and he's drawing occasional shaky breaths. "It was a bad one, Jay. You're getting a fever too. Talk about Murphy's law, huh?"

That earns a chuckle from Castellano. Slowly he retracts his hands from Jason's legs who still isn't fully aware but seems to at least not be actively hurting himself. Dick loosens his grip on Jason, then slowly pulls away from his arms but maintains the touch and starts rubbing them instead. Stimulate some heat.

"Dick?"

"Yes Jay", he says, then looks up at Castellano and mouths 'water' which, God bless, he catches onto and heads for the bags.

"I wake you?", Jason moves his head back just enough to look up at Dick, his eyes red-rimmed. 

"Doesn't matter, little wing", he brushes the hair from his sweaty forehead and goes back to rubbing his arm. Castellano is back with a bottle.

"Here", Dick helps him straighten up a bit before holding the open bottle under his lips, helping him take tiny sips. Castellano shakes the bottle of painkillers in his hand and Dick could thank the man a thousand times over. He takes it from him, sending a nod his way. He opens the bottle and shakes out a few, holding then out to Jason. Only to get them pushed away.

"Jay", he tries to sound stern but it comes out more as a plea.

"Nauseous", Jason explains. "Can't."

"We'll deal with it", Dick holds them out again. "Come on, it will help with the fever too."

Jason obliges, which Dick attests to just how little he has in himself to fight this. He lays him back down and Jason's eyes are already drooping although it seems he's putting up a fight. New developments however is his hand clutching Dick's shirt, the hold unrelenting. He's far from relaxed, holding back. Dick moves so he's around him again, pulls Jason so his head is on Dick's chest, Dick's arms wrapped around him. Jason's still holding onto his shirt, in a death grip if anything else. Dick doesn't comment. Castellano takes his cue and retreats back to his sleeping bag.

It’s going to be a long night.

Long night became more like early morning. The next time Dick wakes up, it’s to the feel of twists and turns next to him. He opens his eyes to see a light blue hue spread around and only bits of embers keeping the camp fire alive. And radiating heat, on his chest, to his sides. 

Jason.

Dick pulls away and then crouches closer to Jason, feeling his forehead. His fever had spiked. Significantly from the feel of it.

"Jay", he tries, placing two fingers on his pulse point only to feel the rapid threadiness of his heart beating. He looks over at Jason at Castellano who's still asleep. Dick needs to check the wound. "Jason? Hey", he starts tapping his cheeks but he remains unresponsive. Dick moves to his chest, using his knuckles to apply soft pressure on his sternum. Jason groans, a hand coming up to meet his own that laid on his chest to pull it away. 

"Open your eyes, Jay", he says as he lays his hand back down and rubs circles along the tendon between his thumb and index. Jason does. Jason's eyes focus for a moment, just a moment and he sees Dick or at least it seems like it. His expression shifts, confusion flickering across his face.

"Br'ce?"

Shit.

"No Jason... its-"

"Why 're you... whuh?"

"Jason", Dick moves, placing his hand on Jason's cheek forcing him to meet his eyes. "Jay, it's Dick."

"'S cold."

Dick pulls the blanket up to his neck. Running his hand through his sweaty locks again as Jason's eyes remain the open slits that they are. He's not all here. Dick's chest clenches at the thought of the very obvious infection. He needs to clean the wound, change the bandage. 

"Jay, I'm gonna check the wound, okay? I'm right here, not going anywhere", he doesn't know if it registers, he moves regardless. Gently pulling Jason's foot from the side of the blanket, finding marred lines of blood that has seeped through the gauze. Slowly peeling the wrap and the gauzes he sees what he had already expected. The wound looks angry for the lack of a better word. Red streaks are crawling up Jason's leg like veins of fire, the skin like a furnace to the touch. The puncture wounds are oozing white-yellowish pus, and the smell is... wrong. Sickly sweet. 

Dick picks up the can and fills it with water, walking over to the remaining embers of the fire and working on getting it started just a bit. As he sits warming the water, he hears soft shuffling behind him. Castellano is up, and seems to be taking the read on the situation. Dick watches as he walks towards Jason, coming to a still for a moment and then making his way towards Dick.

"He's uhhh...", Castellano starts, "He seems to be calling? For someone?", he's already got a glove on one hand and beckons at Dick to hand him the can. "You should probably stay with him."

Dick nods, handing him the can, tapping his shoulder with the same hand as he turns towards the tarp. A silent thank you. All this with Castellano has been... surprising. To say the least. Dick sits next to Jason, his eyes so glassy Dick almost can't bear looking at them. Like he's trying to focus but can't quite. Like he's trapped somewhere else, looking but unseeing. 

"B?", and his heart clenches yet again. And Dick knows this is just the beginning. Its only just started. He starts with a fresh bottle of water, placing a hand under Jason's back and lifting him up, getting him to lean on his chest. Now to get him a little lucid.

"Jason? Need you to drink some water okay? Then we can lay back down and I will clean the wound. Can you do that?", he keeps his voice so close to a whisper, as soft as he can but with some convincing assertiveness in his tone.

"The cave?"

"No Jay, we're in the woods. We were on a mission, remember?"

"Whym I... I d'nt feel good, B."

"I know, I know little wing", he purposefully uses the nickname to elicit some response from Jason regarding that. Some awareness of where he is and who he is with. "Just a few sips", he brings the mouth of the bottle to Jason's lips, gently lifting it and lowering it to first test his coherence. He manages a sip, swallowing it. Dick then allows him a few more until Jason turns away from the bottle, his sweaty curls brushing against Dick's neck. Dick rubs his arm with the hand holding him up and keeping him to his chest. "Good, that's good. You good to lie back down?"

Jason doesn't say anything for a moment. Then "'ve got work t' do", mumbled against his chest that rumbles through his shirt. Itching in a way that's endearing if it wasn't for everything else going on around them.

Castellano returns. With Jason now fully putting his weight on Dick and actually seeming comfortable with the close proximity, Dick makes a decision. 

"How squeamish are you?", he asks, voice louder and addressed to the man holding out the can to him, the content inside steaming.

Castellano shrugs, "Not very."

"Can you clean the wound, I will direct whenever needed but I need you to be honest and say no than do a shit job."

Castellano looks like hes biting back his words, his lips screwed in contemplation. Dick didn't mean to pose it as a challenge, right now there's not a lot of effort going into filtering his tongue. Much directed towards being an older brother. Castellano nods, eyeing the first aid kit then back at Dick, "I wash it, clean the pus, some antiseptic and wrap, that it?"

"Pretty much. Like I said, I'll direct when needed."

"Kay", he says with another shrug, sitting down and uncovering the wound again, pulling himself closer then putting on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves. Much like Dick yesterday, he lays down a sheet and starts pouring bits of warm water to wash. Despite Dick hoping he could ground Jason, he jerks with a whimper escaping his lips. Dick shushes him, continuing to rub his arm with one hand and running circles on his scalp with the other.

"'twas Ivy? Then we...", he mumbles some more but lands on one thing, "s wrong. Can't remember."

"It's okay Jay."

"Why can't I remember", Jason moves, rubbing his head on Dick's chest then trying to pull away. He's lifting and drooping at the same time and Dick realizes he's trying to look. To get a look at him.

"Br'uuhce"

Dick tightens his grips, pulling Jason away to fully take him space on the head rest of the sleeping bed and then pushing him down on his lap. Jason immediately looks up at him, eyes no longer slits and eyebrows furrowed.

"Dickie", he asks, voice clearer. Dick could almost rejoice, he doesn't know at what. Being recognized? Finally receiving some awareness. God he's tired.

"Yes Jay, it's me", he says, diverting his attention to Castellano who is now moved on to flushing out the pus from the punctures. He watches him do one, move to another and decides he's got this, coming back to Jason who's now mumbling unintelligibly under his breath. He thinks about giving him some antipyretics but he's also sure the fever is to fight the infection and they need his core temperature a bit heightened. Dick feels his forehead again, speculating his temperature possibly teetering on 103 degrees. 

He needs to prepare in case it goes any higher. 

The fever did spike again. And Jason lost to it. Dick tried his best to cool him down with heavy resistance from Jason despite the fact that he barely has the energy to do so. The infection is spreading despite everything. By the time its noon, Dick decides they can't stay here. They need to get to the extraction site. They have to move.

Dick rigs a harness with the help of Castellano; paracord and his own jacket, fashioned into a makeshift carrier. He lifts Jason onto his back, feeling the weight of him, the heat of his fever seeping through his clothes. He tests his grip as Castellano slowly lets go of his grip on Jason. He's got it. It's a glorified piggy back, the paracord holding Jason's legs in place and Dicks jacket tying their chest together. Still it helps that Jason is a bit lucid and despite his head drooped on Dick's shoulders, he keeps his hold together around his neck.

Castellano is holding both their gear, he made an attempt to wrap them both in one but it didn't seem to go anywhere. He's got three bags around his torso and carrying a stick, water bottles in a pouch tied to his belt.

"Stay close. Don't fall behind, don't make a sound", Dick says, voice flat and determined. 

Castellano nods almost as soon as Dick had started speaking, "Yea, yea I get it."

Dick starts walking. They've got a day and half of a trek on their hands and if Dick can manage, with Jason on his back, they could make it there before the next sun hits the sky. Granted the weather remains on his side. And Jason doesn't get any worse. He doesn't count on that. The terrain is brutal; a bit muddy, and the topsy turvy hits harder when he's carrying a whole person on his back. Not anyone. Not just anyone. His brother. He'd do it ten times over. Its his brother. The strewn around fallen logs, thick underbrush none of it helps. Jason seems dead to the world, whatever energy he had left that had him maintain his grip now sapped out of his body, letting his head lol rhythmically, his arms dangling limply with each step.

They've been walking for a good few hours when Jason starts to stir.

"Hey", Dick pulls at Jason slightly, "Jay?"

"B?", Jason's head shift towards Dick's face, then moves away almost instantly, "You're carrying me?"

"Yes, Jay", Dick couldn't help the small smile taking over his face. He's lucid enough, that's good. "You're hurt, I'm carrying you."

"Is why it hurts?"

Dick wants to keep him talking. Somehow it's helping him more than he thinks it's helping Jason. "What hurts Jay?"

He's quiet for sometime, hands loosely holding each other and then mumbles something Dick can't quite make out. 

"What was that?"

"Wrong."

"Jay?"

"'things wrong. 'ts wrong."

"What's wrong, Jason?", Dick voicing but not stopping or lowering his pace in the slightest.

"Me. All... All of it. Wrong", a heavy breath and his voice cracking, but he doesn't stop. Desperate for someone to know, for someone to hear. "Came back wrong. 'll of it."

Dick doesn't know what to say, no words to respond to that. The extraction, the priority. Getting out of here and getting Jason help. That's all his mind offers. He can't find in him to humour Jason, nor the capacity to pull him out of whatever fever dream is ravishing his mind just now. He keeps walking.

"Sh'dnt 've come back at all."

Dick's blood runs cold all over again. Like sleet covering his veins. It's not... he's never... 

"Made 'vrything wrong."

"Hey", this is what feels wrong, Jason's voice, his words, the resignation in them. He cant tell the difference. Is he better? Is he worse? Is it delirium from the pain or a fever dream, a fucked up mixture of both given his luck at the moment. "Hey! Jay", he jostles him, a bit harsher this time. He needs to bring him back from this. He just needs to. He removes one hand holding Jason's leg in place despite the paracord doing its job, and moves it across to his other shoulder where Jason's head rests. Not that he can't already feel the heat through his clothes but its so much more jarring when he runs his hand through his forehead and hair. Jason's brain might as well because cooking inside his skull.

"D'ckie?"

The name leaves Jason's throat but it is Dick who feels the brunt of it uttered. They've still got a few hours ahead of them. Its already dark. Jason, seemingly aware enough yet so much more distant and Dick doesn't have it in him to compartmentalize. Should he stop humouring him? 

"Dickie, please?"

"I'm here Jay, what is it?"

"'tter..." and there's a stark shift in his weight that Dick can tell is not purposeful, he almost trips. Shit.

"Jay?!"

"...cr'mate me", his slumped shoulders and limp arms are dropping and Dick has to readjust his grip, then switch gears and move to pulling at his jacket tying them together. Jason only drops further and this time Dick isn't able to maneuver his weight, falling on his knees.

"No! No, shut up", he tries to get his knees under him, all with no avail as his whole body starts trembling. Shit. Shit shit shit. "Jay? Jason please-"

"Y'u 've to cremate me, can't come back", Dick shakes his head, jerking his torso in ways to keep jostling Jason harsher and harsher. Castellano, who seems to reappear after being so drawn out of Dick's mind that he forgot he was here on a mission. He sits next to Dick and starts undoing the paracord. Dick pushes at his hand.

"No! No no no sto-"

"No man, you need to stop.", he pulls back, his hands up and voice tentative as if Dick is the one who needs the reassurance. "You need to take a break."

"No", that's when Dick realizes he had been sobbing, his voice cracks and the shakes aren't just him voluntarily jostling Jason and good god everything. Everything hurts. And Jason, he continues mumbling like no care in the world, all Dick can make out is wrong and again and dont make me and let me go. "No, I can't." To Castellano or to Jason, Dick doesn't know.

"I can't stop. He needs me. He needs-"

Castellano speaks above him, firmer than before, hands now back to undoing the paracord, "He needs you to be okay. And you're far from it. You're running on fumes. At this rate you'll collapse. And who's going to carry him then?" A pause as he pulls the cords straight out and moves on to the other side. "Certainly not me."

Dick looks up at him, feeling his eyes burn, desperation leaking from his voice, "He's... he's going to die. I can't... if I stop. He'll die", From the look on Castellano's face even in the darkness, Dick can tell he must look like how he feels. His shoulders start racking with heavy sobs as he keeps trying to readjust his hold on Jason. "He'll die and it will be my fault- I cant. I can't lose him again. I can't."

Again. If that meant anything to Castellano, he sure did his best not to show it.

"You're not going to lose him. But you need to rest. Look", Castellano moves towards the jacket which is already coming undone. "Just for a few minutes. I'll even let you decide how long. But I'll watch him. I'll keep him warm. I'll keep tabs if anything changes. Just—just take a breath, okay? Just lie down. Only a few minutes of shut eye, I promise."

Dick stares at him, unsure what to make of anything. He doesn't trust Castellano enough with his brother's life. Not anyone. But can he even entrust himself with Jason? He's so bone-crushingly exhausted, it's pathetic.

Dick's voice is small, his trembling slightly subsided, "...if I'm asleep, and he wakes up-"

"I'll tell him you're right here. I'll tell him we're almost there and he'll be fine. Hell I'll wake you if need be. That enough?"

Dick manages a nod and then his resolve cracks. His body sags, and he lets Castellano take Jason from his back, detaching him like a cut string puppet. Dick feels another sob build up as he takes in what Jason finally looks like. Stark pale, eyes like dark patches, hair unruly in sweaty curls, most of it sticking to his face. His brother. His brother he already lost once-

He watches as Castellano; ex capo of a mobster family, the witness, their mission, the last person he ever expected to help, gently lays Jason on the ground, wraps him in the emergency blanket, and sits beside him. He looks back up at Dick.

"Drink some water, eat something, then sleep."

"I-"

"Just 30 minutes if not longer, but you will rest."

Dick hesitates. Then, slowly, he reaches for his bottled water. He drinks. He eats a granola bar he can't taste. He doesn't take his eyes off Jason.

Allowing himself a brief rest, a little longer than an hour, Dick stands. His body still aches, his eyes burning with heat behind them but he feels better for the lack of a better term. He feels stronger. And its darker, they haven't lost much time. They could still make it before dawn.

Jason didn't wake up. Castellano tells him there were occasional nonsensical mumblings but nothing panic inducing and nothing not out of the ordinary for his state. Dick doesn't stand by it. Jason didn't wake up, that in itself isn't a good thing. 

Dick tries then from his side to get some response out of Jason so he can coax him into drinking some water. It doesn't work. Dick pours the water on his hair instead, gently, hoping it helps the dangerously high temperature. They're officially running out of time. 

Castellano helps him put Jason on his back, the paracord harness securing him in position yet again and the jacket to the rescue. Dick watches him work as he tests the tightness of the hold. 

"Your case file", Dick clears his throat, "it mentioned you had... brothers." They start walking.

"...yea. I was the youngest", he adds after nodding. 

"I just", Dick continues trudging as he speaks, one foot in front of the other. "I'm grateful. For what you did. For taking the handle of the situation. I couldn't have-"

"Hey man, Dick? I don’t even know if that’s your real name. I'm just doing what I ought to do. I'm the one getting the better hand out of this ordeal and this was meant to be a nothing burger mission for the two a yous", Castellano speaks up. 

"Still. Thank you. For watching him. For making me take a break. Brother to a brother."

It takes them a few hours, Dick doesn't have it in him to stop. They're coloured in the similar wash of blue, the knocking of the dawn. And Dick is close, he can tell. His legs are shaking again, he focuses on other things. Jason burning on his back, his fever raging. Have they entered seizure territory already? How much brain damage has already taken its toll with a fried brain cooking inside a skull.

That's when he sees it. Stumbling into the clearing. GCPD cruisers, their lights flashing. Commissioner Gordon is there, directing officers, he can hear his voice, curt and distinct. An ambulance is waiting. But Dick's eyes are fixed on the vehicle that matters most: the Batmobile, sleek and black washed under the same blue; its engine humming, its presence a promise.

Standing beside it, he sees him. Batman. Vigilant. Sharp gaze, on the officers, on the tree line, the opening. And him. Their eyes meet. Dick almost laughs from relief. He's here. He's here.

Dick takes one more step that suddenly makes his knees feel like they've dissolved. He opens his mouth to speak but only a raw, broken sob escapes. And Batman, he's there, in what feels like a blink of an eye. Dick's looking at him and the next thing he knows, his hands, large, gloved, impossibly steady are on him, holding him. Something tells Dick he's speaking but he can't make out. He feels something brush his fingers that are still holding the harness and he tightens it almost on instinct. Next, the same gloved hand is on his cheek.

"Dick? He's okay. He's going to be okay. You have to let go", and Dick shakes his head but let's go regardless. He's here. Bruce is here. His dad is here. He can handle the situation. Dick doesn't need to anymore. Because he can’t. He can’t help. He can’t save Jason. 

Bruce quickly undos the cords and the jacket and takes Jason from Dick's back, cradling him like a child, picking him up like he weighs nothing and is already on the way towards the Batmobile. 

"I've got him. Dick I've got him. Get in the car", he says. If the rest of the present company has anything to say about it, they don't. Dick struggles to his feet, stumbling and starts, "He's burning up, he's got an infected wound", the reporting tactic from his Robin days taking hold. "Cleaned a few times, didn't-"

"You did good. You got him out. Now let me take over", Bruce spoke, laying Jason in the backseat as if already hearing what was unspoken. I tried. It wasn't good enough. I couldn't. I can't save him.

Dick enters from the other side, taking Jason's head in his lap. He watches Bruce work; attaching a portable IV, checking vitals, his movements swift and precise. But there's a tension in his shoulders, a tightness in his jaw that only Dick knows to spot. Behind him, Dick sees Gordon approach the Batmobile, his face lined with concern when he takes one look at the backseat.

"Batman. Are they-"

Bruce speaks without diverting attention from Jason, right now placing cold compressions behind his neck, his underarms and places one in Dick's hand, directing him to hold it to his forehead. Jason shivers but doesn't stir awake. 

"They're okay. I need to get them to the cave. Tell your officers-"

"I'll handle that. We've got Alaric Castellano, thanks to your boys. His safety is a priority for the GCPD. We'll take care of him."

Bruce looks up this time, his eyes meeting Gordon and Dick can see the familiar trickle of gratitude. Dick is sure Gordon catches it too.

"Get them home safe."

Bruce nods before Gordon makes his way to the cruisers. Then, turning to Dick, "Hold him, try to get his temperature down, he's in sepsis, we can't risk a seizure." And without waiting for Dick's response, he shuts the door and gets into the driver's seat, speaking into his wrist display.

"-tic. Prepare an IV with isotonic fluids, antibiotics and mild sedatives."

"ETA, sir?"

"40 minutes. I'll try and cut it to 20."

The Batmobile roars to life and Bruce moves out of the clearing into the road, the car traversing through fast and aggressive but controlled. The engine screams as they tear through.

"How long has he been like this?", Bruce asks, his voice gentle but tight. 

Dick runs his fingers through Jason's scalp and keeps the cold compression in place. "Two days. Was a bear trap. Old and rusted. Infection set in that night. Fever's been spiking ever since. Nightmares, fever dreams, delirium. He-", Dick holds himself back for a moment but then thinks to himself what for. What good would it do? "He kept calling for you. Kept thinking I was you. Wanting me to be you. I'm-", Dick shakes his head. 

Bruce doesn't say anything. Their eyes meet on the rear view mirror and Dick turns away, looking down at Jason. His pale face, his stuttering breath. 

Sh'dnt 've come back at all.

"He scared me", Dick confesses, his voice quiet. "He was saying things that... Like he... Bruce", Dick prompts. 

"He's not okay, Bruce."

"He will be", Bruce nods, as if to himself more than anything else. "He will be, we will make sure. We will talk."

Dick nods.

"We will talk."

They can hold on to that.