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