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Fuck it burned. The feeling in his chest burned. As if he was aflame. Sweating profusely, his hair sticking to his forehead. His shirt was soaked and clinging to his back. Shivers wracking his body. His lungs were screaming for air despite his heavy gasps. His mind was hazy. His vision fluctuated in and out of focus. His veins filled with poison. He was dying. He knew he was. He was dying and he couldn’t even will himself to get up off the cold concrete. He let out a pathetic wheeze as he tried to catch his breath.
Get up! His eyes blinked as he tried to concentrate on his surroundings, making his eyes open as wide as he could. So wide he could actually feel the muscles straining. Dull gray, either from the dusk sky, maybe there was fog, or maybe he was in a room. He wasn’t sure. He swallowed thickly before gagging. His hand instinctively covering his mouth as if it would help the sudden wave of nausea he was hit with. He had been hit with a ton of toxins, spells, chemicals, and gasses before. None of them compared to what he was feeling now. He couldn’t even think straight enough to remember what happened. How he ended up in so much pain.
Hot, fiery sensations encasing his body. Burning alive. He felt like he was burning alive. Which wasn’t too far off what was happening. He wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed, but he became aware of it as he lifted his heavy eye-lids open. He was so fucking exhausted. How long had he been wasting away under the effects of whatever had gotten him? He didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure of his own name at the moment. He let his gaze go down his body, taking in his condition.
Clothes were his civies and torn up in various places. He could see a couple deep gashes under some of the tears in his pants. His light gray sweatpants that he had stolen from Dick or Bruce, he wasn’t sure. It could’ve been Roy’s for all he fucking knew. Not that it mattered, he wasn’t going to be able to return them now. His feet were bare, no socks, no shoes. Weird . He never left home without at the very least sneakers. He did wear his boots more often than not though. His left foot was a dark purple, almost dark enough to be mistaken as black, he had to have broken it or something. His right foot was a little pale and swollen, his eyes trailed to his ankle. He swallowed down the bile that tried to make its way out of his mouth. The bone wasn’t pierced through the skin, but the break was evident. How did he break both of his feet?
He finally let his eyes go to his torso and chest, there was a big gaping hole in his stomach. Not a clean through and through either. He could see the blood seeping out, the way his organs all seemed to be rotting inside of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened. Oh god. How was he still alive? His exhaustion was getting to him again. He let his eyes close and then when he opened them again, his body was no longer littered in the gut wrenching wounds. He still had a bunch of cuts and gashes but his feet were just pale and a little beat up from having walked barefoot. His stomach wasn’t gaping at him, exposing his vital organs to the world. He had imagined it.
Strange…
Another shiver encompassed him. He struggled to move his dead limbs so he could curl in on himself. Hugging his knees to his chest. He let his head fall forward, his forehead sitting on his knees. He was so cold . The fire in his veins still present if not more so now than before. He wasn’t sure if he’d survive whatever this was. What was this? Where was he? He choked on a sob as he tried to think.
Nothing was making sense. What was happening? A whine escaped his lips as he tried to sort through the swirling pool of memories in his head. Flashes of the past haunting him like the ghost of who he once was. The boy he used to be still refusing to be forgotten. Despite the way he died. The way he had been so desperate to save his mother . The way he crawled his battered and broken body to her to free her. His useless race against the clock as she tried to lead him out of the god forsaken warehouse. The way that the second the time bomb went off he threw himself between the woman who had betrayed him and the blast of the explosion. The way that he hadn’t even gotten the luxury of dying to the initial blast.
No. He had to be awake until the pain, heat, and lack of oxygen was too much for his still rather malnourished body to handle. Even now he had nights when he could feel it all. Nights when he could taste the bitterness of the smoke that was slowly suffocating him. Nights when the heartbreak from the betrayal had him second guessing every relationship he has ever had. The aches in his bones that put him back under the hard smacks of the crowbar. The reverberating sounds of metal cracking his bones, the sickening crunches of his own skull as the harsh beating of the crowbar hit him over and over and over again.
Maybe that was all this was. One of those painful relivings of his torturous death. No, this burning was way too real. Way too debilitating. The sound of a metal lock sliding open caught his attention. He would’ve lifted his head up to look towards the noise but his head was so heavy. He was so weak . He couldn’t even manage to open his eyes again. He sat where he was wedged in a corner to keep him upright as he cradled his own cold body. He barely registered the footsteps moving towards him. Barely registered the fingers in his hair.
He grunted when his head was yanked up by his hair. His mouth opened as he heaved for air through the pain. Cold, wet, liquid fell on his face. There were drops landing on his eyelids and then a couple driblets rolled down his cheeks into his mouth. The cold shock from the liquid had his eyes snapping open, the gnarly taste on his tongue had his face contorting in disgust. It was then when his eyes focused on the man in front of him. The familiarity of the man before him was not mistaken.
This was him .
Bruce.
Bruce did this to him?
Why?
“Good, you’re still with us. I was beginning to worry that you’d finally crashed out.” Bruce said with this sadistic smirk.
The words got stuck on Jason’s lips. What was Bruce doing? What was his dad doing? Why was he feeling more hazy than before? He stared at his dad Bruce in shock. Then the burning in his veins got worse, like adding kerosene to a wildfire. A choked out scream broke out of his throat. Searing pain that made it hard to breathe. So hot. So ouch, ouch, ouchie. As the author often says to describe her chronic pain. He finally swallowed thickly, trying to stop the reaction to the scorching sensation.
Bruce just laughs at his misery. He laughs and he gets in close to Jason’s face. His breath warm against his lips. It makes him sick. He didn’t like how little space was between them. It wasn’t even like he had the strength to move away. His breathing picked up a little, something about this was sending alarms blaring in his head. Get away. Get away right now. Escape.
“Now, now, don’t act like you’re disappointed in seeing me.” Bruce tsked, his free hand, well the hand that wasn’t in his hair, dropping whatever it was he was holding before gripping Jason’s chin.
Jason gasped a little at the harshness. The tight hold on his chin was actually painful, especially with the dig of fingernails accompanying the bruising grip. With strength he didn’t have, Jason managed a glare and a spit at his father figure. It only pissed Bruce off. How does he know that, well the hands gripping him both let go, the one from his chin moving to his neck before grasping. He choked for air as the hand squeezed. Then the free hand reached back, Jason couldn’t see much, before it came back into view with a syringe. It caused a sense of panic to rise in his chest.
Bruce made sure to slam his head back against the wall while choking him. The tight grip was definitely going to leave a mark if it didn’t end up killing him. The older male had this unreadable expression for a second before it broke into a smile. Too eerily similar to the Joker’s. Then the hold on his neck moved back to his chin. It gave Jason the opportunity to gasp for air, despite how his entire body screamed in agony. The burning still in his veins. Then his head was pulled to the side, exposing his neck. The only sound he allowed himself to let out was a small groan.
Panic was starting to overtake him. Making it hard to focus, not that he was really able to before. Then a sharp prick in his neck had him gasping in shock. The icy cold feeling that rushed through his veins, that didn’t even negate the burning, causing a shriek to burst from his chest. Then his body felt heavy. Way too heavy. As if he wasn’t struggling before, now he really couldn’t move. His limbs all falling limp, his head only being held up by the tight hold on his chin. Everything blurred together for a moment.
“That’s much better. All things considered, you really did grow into a beauty. What a shame you’re so violent.” Bruce spoke, his words were far away, echoing in Jason’s ears.
Jason was vaguely aware of the lips on his. Vaguely aware of how his body was being manhandled into a lying position. He couldn’t move his arms to try and push him away. Couldn’t kick in desperation. He was barely able to register what was happening. He felt cold and warm at the same time. He felt hands roaming his body. Lips on his neck, kissing and biting. When he was able to register what was happening, there was nothing he could do but wish that he had just been knocked out or strangled to death. That would have been better than this.
Anything would have been better than this. His body being used like he was just a toy for others' pleasure. He couldn’t even scream for help, his mouth barely worked. He was aware of a distant cry. The sound of somebody bawling, heavy gasps, broken sobs. Then he realized it was him . His tears were spilling from his eyes, rolling down the sides of his face into his ears. This wasn’t real. Why was Bruce doing this to him? Did he manage to piss off the old man that badly? He hadn’t meant to kill anybody, if he did. He wasn’t sure.
He wasn’t sure when he had passed out, but he was now waking up. He wasn’t as cold as he felt during the ordeal. He once again used the strength he didn’t have to move his hand from his side to his chest. He could feel his bare chest, it made him frown. His eyes were so heavy. His body was so heavy. He was really starting to wish he was just with that clown again. It would be better than this. He hated that he was stuck on his back but there was nothing in him to get him to roll over. Whatever he did was bad enough for Bruce to keep him so weak and disoriented.
The sound of the door opening caused an involuntary flinch from Jason. He whimpered in pain. His veins still felt like they were on fire, worse than before. How was it only getting worse? The sound of light footsteps running towards him was the only thing that made him sure it wasn’t Bruce. He felt two hands on him, smaller than Bruce’s. The hands gently held his face and turned his head so he was facing whoever it was. It was upon looking at his mystery savior that he realized just how blurry his vision was. He was able to catch the color purple after a few blinks.
Purple? Only one person wore purple, at least that he knew of in Gotham. Stephanie. He couldn’t help but relax at the realization. Nobody else was in on this. It was just Bruce. It took another few blinks before he realized she was speaking to him.
“-son? Jason? Are you with me? Come on Jason. Please be with me.” Her voice was so angelic.
He opened his mouth to speak but he just wheezed and coughed harshly. Steph sighed a little and she gently moved his head off the cold hard floor onto her lap. Her fingers ran through his hair. It was so soothing. He could just take a nap…Just for a moment…
Jason awoke with a jolt, a broken shriek of agony, his veins still burning. If he could attest to anything it was that it felt worse again. He thrashed a little until he felt familiar hands on his face again. The same way they had when he was found. He gasped for air as his eyes flung open. Leaning over him was Steph again. She didn’t say anything before she put an oxygen mask over his lips. He huffed in as much air as he could, it felt so good. To breathe. Steph then kissed his forehead.
“You’re safe now Jay. Just breathe, the drugs are still working their way out of your system.” Her voice was soft, a hint of commiseration.
“S-safe…” He repeated, almost not believing it.
“Everyone else has been worried about you. I’ve managed to get Cass and Alfred to help keep them all away.” She informed him as she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Everyone?” Jason choked out in confusion. Did that mean everyone as in EVERYONE or everyone as in his siblings?
Steph opened her mouth to say something but she paused. She helped him sit up a little before she sat on the edge of the cot. She gently grasped his much larger hands into her own and rubbed small circles into the back of his hands.
“Jason…Look I’ve got to tell you something. I know I don’t know everything that you went through but- but I have a good idea. With that in mind and knowing who had you, it’s only fair that I’m honest with you.” Steph started, taking a shaky breath. “Bruce didn’t have you.”
“Wha-” To say he was in disbelief was an understatement.
“It wasn’t Bruce. It was Hush. He pretended to be Bruce to break you. To break Bruce. I felt it was best that Bruce was kept out of the medbay, for your sake. I saw the marks…I can only imagine he hadn’t given you the privilege of concealing his face.” She explained and she was sincere.
She was telling the truth. Jason still wasn’t sure if he could face Bruce. He doubted it. He watched Steph’s face. Searching for… something. He wasn’t sure what anymore. The oxygen mask had fallen off his face, he hadn’t even registered it until Steph was putting it back on him but actually using the strap to help keep it on. She then moved to be pressed up against his side. He just blinked at her. What was happening?
“Just get some rest Jason, I’ll be here the entire time.” Steph said gently pulling him so he rested his head on her shoulder.
“Promise?” Jason found himself asking, scared that he’d end up alone, scared that he’d have to face Bruce.
“I promise Jase.”