At Any Cost
A Word: Violence, request for overprotective Jason, which means Jason killing people. So, take it as you will.
.
.
Blood flies out and spatters across Jason's jacket and the lenses of the helmet. It settles in the corner of the right one, tinging everything pink. Jason draws back and slams his fist into the mother fucker's face again. The impact rattles up his arm and more blood flies out of his ruined nose as the man staggers back. Eyes rolling up In his head, but Jason only reaches out to grab the front of his shirt to keep him up. Not letting him fall even as the waste of space looses consciousness. Hitting him again and again and again. Not stopping until there's no more face and the fucker isn't moving.
At all.
Jason let's him go then, to drop like a rag doll on the dirty ground and focuses on breathing as he turns away. He's got a packet of wet-naps he stole from a diner that take care of the blood on the lenses and most of what's on his jacket. The gloves go in an inside pocket and Jason pulls on his back up pair before climbing back up to the roofline.
It takes him five minutes to backtrack and that's enough time to let the rest of the rage diminish. Red Robin is finishing up the patch job on his suit and grunts when Jason comes up behind him. "You find the shooter?"
"Not a trace," Jason lies as he fits his hand over the mended tear. It'll bruise like a bitch because fuckhead wasn't using a high enough caliber to really exploit the weakness in Tim's armor, but Jason doesn't care. He's still got the image of Tim going limp mid-jump in his head. A repeating loop of one of his worst nightmares. "Motherfucker's long gone."
Tim sighs and doesn't protest when Jason wraps his arm around him, pulling him in close. "Can't even trace the bullet, guess it was someone's lucky day."
"Yeah, yours," Jason rests his head on top of Tim's. The helmet keeps him from feeling the material of the cowl or smelling the scent of sweat and Gotham that permeates Tim, but the gesture calms the rest of the rage.
"It won't happen again," Tim says, his mind no doubt already working on armor upgrades.
"No, it won't," Jason agrees, his mind on the one asshole who won't be taking potshots at Tim anymore.
It takes them a while to get back to patrolling.
.
.
