Notes: imo, this picks up around drabble/vignette/whatever 3. At any rate, it's a canon-divergent series and is character-focused. Expect lots of batfam-angst and Alfred being awesome. :D
There's dirt under his fingernails when Alfred pulls into the hangar.
He's tucked into the backseat, a crisp blanket hanging around his shoulders. His eyes trail to the blaring numbers on the bat mobile's dashboard. They tell him a lot of things - the year, the time, the various alerts springing up on the police radio.
It also tells him the mileage, and Jason doesn't think he's ever seen a number quite that high on any car.
"Master Jason." Alfred's voice is as even as ever; Jason applauds the Wayne family's selection. "Would you like to step out?"
The alerts are still going off; a beep here, another one three seconds later. Sometimes codes are mentioned – 541, 332, a fucker with a chainsaw – and sometimes all Jason hears is the hissing of static. He remembers these sounds. They're good sounds.
(That means him, right? Can I go? I can handle it, I swear, you don't need to coddle me, Bruce—)
Jason takes a breath.
He feels like his bones are gasping, like his skin is about to bubble, burst (all over again). His mouth tastes like ashes, his tongue trips over the sounds—but he gets it out. The word. The simple, simple word that only sounds half mangled.
Okay.