No Air
A Word: Request for Jason suffering an asthma attack for the first time since childhood.
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It's the smoke that triggers it. Something in the burning building making it toxic to his lungs despite the filters in his mask. Jason starts coughing almost immediately and doesn't stop even as he works to get out of the death trap.
His lungs spasm as Jason breaks out a window and tries to get a bead on a good spot to attach the grapple. Firing blindly when he can't see through the rising panic as his chest seems to constrict. Weight pressing down hard on his lungs preventing him from breathing the tainted air.
Jason jumps before he's even had the chance to see the line set. It doesn't matter if he smears himself across the street below. He has to get out of the building. He has to-
Jason grunts as he hits the closest roof. Going too fast and too low. He rolls across it and the jolt of impact loosens something just enough to get a trickle of air in. Just a little as he paws the helmet off. The fire burning across his right leg not as important as the wheezing he can hear and feel as he desperately gasps.
Years of experience, of not being able to afford the medicine or inhalers to prevent this makes Jason ruthlessly repress the coughing and hacking before he can puke. Choking a little from the bile that tries to rise up anyway. Forcing himself to breathe in small, slow breaths of air. Mostly untainted now as he counts slowly. His gloved fingers digging into the roof as he uncurls himself as much as he can stand.
His chest feels so tight and the air he's getting in now isn't enough for the mad dash he did getting out. Spots roll across his tightly closed eyes and Jason's holding onto the roof now for steadiness. For an anchor against the wave of dizziness. A reminder to just keep breathing.
Slow and steady. No matter how bad it gets.
The constriction eases slowly and the panic ebbs as he gets more air in. Not letting himself gulp it down the way he wants. He waits until the spots clear to cough. A body wracking series of hacking that brings snot up his throat for him to spit out. That helps too.
Firefighters are already on site by the time Jason feels ready to move. Taking the most direct route to his nearest bolt hole. He's done for the night. The phantom weight from when he was a kid wiping him out even more thoroughly than he remembers.
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