"Can you move?" he heard himself ask through the speaker, though he wasn't sure he knew where he was anymore. This place used to be home, but it's empty without him here.
Please get up, Bruce. Just get up and come home.
He waited a long while before a response came through. Each second passed with hearing nothing more than the sound of his labored breathing burned like knives in his chest. "No, Jason. I can't."
He felt all the hope drain from him. He'd been here before. Countless times he's sat in this chair and spoke to his family for the last time. It was the worst feeling of his life, and every time, he promised he'd never let it happen to him again. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't survive.
"Just get up, Bruce, please. I know it's in you. You're still the same stubborn son of a bitch you've always been. You can survive this. You will. You will survive this."
I can't lose you too.
He felt Alfred's cool touch against the back of his neck, a common resting place. Still, he wished it was his father's.
"I'm dying, Jason. There's nothing you can do."
Bullshit there's nothing I can do.
"No, Bruce! You don't get to do this to me! You don't get to die and leave me here alone after you begged me to come home. You promised things would be different! You promised you'd never leave me again! No!"
He felt the hot, wet stream of tears pour down his face. It was the most uncomfortable feeling, and he hated it. Jason imagined that Bruce was the only person that hated it more than him.
"The transmitter isn't picking up your location," Jason said frantically, "maybe we could-"
"I'm buried, Jason," Bruce said. "It won't be able to trace anything this far underground. Even if it could, it would take hours for you to find me. Hours that I don't have. Don't waste this time, Jason. I don't want you to."
Jason threw the headset on the ground. He couldn't restrain himself any longer. The tears, screams, and agony poured from him. He only hoped that Bruce couldn't hear him.
"He can't die!" He screamed as the wool of Alfred's coat muffled him. "He can't die, please don't let him, Alfred. Do something!"
Alfred pulled Jason's face to his. "I've always known this day would come," he said chillingly. "Master Bruce always feared that it would come far before he was ready, and he always feared leaving you boys alone, but I imagine he has nothing to fear, does he? You boys have each other, and you'll always have your father. Isn't that right, Master Jason?"
Wiping a tear from his eye, he nodded.
"Tell him that, son," Alfred said. "Give him some peace."
With the headset back on and the tears wiped away, Jason felt a weight lifted from him. All those things he wished he could've said to Bruce all those years; they're finally here.
"You know I'm scared. I know you know that because you're you, and you know everything. You know I yell loudest when I'm scared, but that doesn't make any of this any easier. I know you know that too. You might not be my father, but you're the only one I've ever known, and as much as I like to throw it back in your face, I wouldn't go back to my old life for anything. You are my father. No one can take your place."
Jason could only hear the muffled sound of Bruce's labored breath.
"I know you're scared of leaving us," he said. "But you don't have to worry about that. We'll take care of each other. We always do."
"I never meant to hurt you, Jason," he said through increasingly painful breaths.
"I know, Bruce," he said. "Close your eyes. Rest. It's your turn to have some quiet."
The headset turned to static.