Chapter Text
The wound had (thankfully) stopped hurting after just two days, and Jason should have known that was a bad sign.
Another day passed by and suddenly, he barely understood where he was. Just that he was on patrol and the city was really dark and there were a lot of colors everywhere that he couldn’t see properly. And, that somewhere in the back of his mind was a single thought.
Home. Gotta get home. Dad's gonna be mad I'm late.
It’s Wednesday now, and the knife had gone under his ribs on Sunday. It was a small job, just stopping some start up criminals in a warehouse. After the mission, he’d stitched it up himself with a bottle of vodka and shaking hands, and told himself that he was fine. Now the skin surrounding it felt like it was on fire, and the heat had spread through his body until the Gotham streets felt warm.
He didn’t remember the long road out of the Alley, nor arriving into the richest part of Gothcam. He only remembered crossing the black gates and how his hands knew the way around the side, and where it was easiest to sneak in.
After all, he’d climbed it over a hundred times back when he was younger.
Stephanie was just eating cereal. Sure it was the middle of the night and she was in the manor kitchen, which was her right as a guest (she basically lived here by now,) thank you, when the motion sensor chimed on the east garden.
She looked at the monitor. Then she put the spoon down very carefully.
"Alfred," she said, careful not to raise her voice too much. Her voice came out shaky. "Alfred, it's the Hood. I don’t think he’s armed, he's just walking up the lawn."
She ran out of the doors to the front lawn, sprinkles of rain hitting her face, and there he was. Jason was stumbling over, his red helmet missing and his hair drenched and plastered to his forehead. He caught sight of Stpehanie and grinned, his body swaying like a tree.
"Jason?"
His face looked like he finally recognized who she was and his grin broke out even wider, and it was the worst thing she had ever seen, because it was so open. There was no armor in it, and it was so unlike Jason.
"Hey, Steph," he said, slurring, walking closer to her. "Is it Tuesday? I'm so late. Is Dad mad at me?"
Then his knees went weak, and she stumbled before collapsing entirely, and she barely caught him. He was so hot through the wet leather that she gasped. Her hand came away from his side dark and sticky and smelling sweet and rotten.
"ALFRED!"
It had barely been a minute before Alfred rushed out, carrying the first aid kid. His face looked composed, but Stephanie could see the panic laying underneath.
"Master Jason," he said, kneeling in the mud in his dressing gown. "Can you hear me, my boy?"
Jason looked at Alfred, his eyes glassy and looked like he barely knew what was going on. “Alfie!” His whole face relaxed with relief, “Alfie I think I did something wrong. I’m sorry, I tried.”
“I know, you did so great” Alfred said, hands already moving and peeling back Jason’s shirt. When he fully uncovered the part where the scar was, Alfred’s face filled with grief, “Miss Brown, please help me with his shoulders. We’re taking him into the Batcave.”
"Alfred, he’s burning up."
"Yes, I can see that."
They half carried and half dragged him through the house until they got into the Cave, careful not to wake anyone up and raised panic in the household. The entire way down, Jason mumbled in broken sentences such as “Alfie, don’t tell Bruce I snuck out,” “‘M kay, I promise to do the Latin homework,” “I won’t touch the Batmobile again,” and “Is it Christmas yet?”
Steph bit her cheek and tried to hold the tears back from her eyes.
Steph bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and did not cry.
Within the next four minutes, Barbara appeared on screen from the Clock Tower, her face tight as Stephanie explained the situation.
"Septic," she said, after Alfred had read her the numbers. “He’s probably let that wound fester for days. Alfred, he needs fluid and antibiotics as soon as possible. Do you have the supplies you need?”
"Hardly. I'll call Dr. Thompkins and get them."
“Do that, and I'll stay on the line.” Her hands flew over the keyboard, desperately trying to pull up every article about septic, and pointedly ignoring the screen where Jason lay still at the table.
“Babs?” She froze when she heard Jason’s voice, and glanced at him for a moment, and noticed how hazy his eyes were, “Babs? Is that y’u?”
Her hands stopped typing.
"Yeah Jay, it’s me."
“You sou’d sad.” There was a short pause and his brow furrowed, with his tone sounding more like a child's, “Did somebody hurt you? I’ll beat ‘em up. I’m Robin, I'm supposed to protect you.”
Barbara pressed her fist against her mouth, stifling her sob.
"Yeah," she managed, taking in a deep breath. "You’ve protected me so much Jay, you're doing so great."