Hello everyone! Finally got up the second chapter. I decided to string this along for a couple more chapters. Because it's just too good of an opportunity not to! I was up late last night writing out as much of this as I could and finished early this morning.

So if it seems rushed or in any way bad, that is on me! Sorry!

Oh and a special thanks to everyone who reviewed, Favorited, and followed the story. You guys rock! I am so glad you all like this story and I hope I continue to meet your expectations.

Don't forget to review so I know what I can do better. Enjoy the second chapter of Warmth of Their Wings.

Sadly I do not own anything/one in the DC universe.

All he was aware of was the crushing darkness that completely surrounded him. That and the deafening silence that filled the air. No matter which way his eyes turned he only saw the empty blackness which caused fear to well up in the pit of his stomach. As he tried to sit up something heavy came in contact with his forehead forcing him back down to the lying position he had been in. What the fuck? Jason thought with a frown as he reached a hand up and touched whatever it was he had hit. His blood froze and his breath hitched as he felt polished wood beneath his fingers.

Carefully he let his fingers dance along the wood from one side to the other. Realizing exactly where he was. His own coffin. His grave. Adrenaline and fear pumped through his veins as his breathing picked up at a rapid pace and he began clawing and hitting the wood above him. "Let me out! I'm still alive! Let me OUT!" The frightened man yelled at the top of his lungs the volume at which he was screaming hurting his own ears. But he didn't stop his assault on the top of the coffin.

He scratched desperately at the wood even as it began to splinter and crack. Driving splinters into the soft skin of his fingers and under his finger nails. The pain barely registered as he kept trying to break out. Even as blood dripped from his fingers down his hands. Even as his fingernails were ripped clear from their proper positions.

"Please! Someone! Help me!" Jason yelled as panic seized him. Not again, he couldn't be here again!

Thoughts raced in his mind thinking this was it. He was going to die down here. This was how he was going out. In one last ditch effort he cried out one single name.

"BRUCE!"

Teal eyes snapped open full of panic and fear as the owner sat bolt upright. He took in his surroundings as if to assure himself he wasn't in that god damn coffin. That he wasn't suffocating slowly and scrambling feebly to try and break out. As the initial shock from the nightmare wore off he took a good look around the room and frowned. It was his old room back in the manor. Every time he had an unsuspecting visit to the manor he would always notice how nothing in his room was ever moved or changed. Sure Alfred came around and dusted it up to keep it's clean appearance but other than that his room was kept the same.

He also noticed he had been changed out of his previous clothes into a pair of dark grey sweats and a red shirt. Part of him was curious as to who the culprit of his change of clothes was. I swear to god if it was Dick, I will shove glass down his throat. Just so he can never tell anyone.

Not even awake for five minutes and he was already making threats against his family. Slowly the sickly man scooted towards the edge of the bed and finally took notice of the IV drip stationed right next to his bed. He looked to his arm and carefully pulled the needle out. Enough of that shit. Jason was no fool. From his sluggish movements and clouded thoughts he knew he had been heavily drugged. Maybe out of hopes that he would stay under long enough until he was better.

Which sadly wasn't the case. For the moment his feet were beneath him and he was standing upright a wave of nausea washed over him. Groaning loudly he rushed to his bathroom and made it to the porcelain bowl in time to start dry heaving. As he finished he spat out the last of the stomach acid that had decidedly try to come up and pulled away from the toilet. Once he flushed away the evidence that he had been sick he supported himself against the bathroom counter and looked at himself in the mirror. And promptly grimaced at the sight before him.

His skin was rather pale still and covered in a layer of cold sweat thanks to the fever. Though his cheeks were flushed red which gave his face some color but not enough. Darkly colored bags were under his eyes from the many sleepless nights he has had over the short weeks and his teal eyes were glazed over and glassy from the fever.

"God I look like shit." Jason voiced aloud as he kept taking in his ruffled appearance. Brushing sweat coated hair out of his face. After the Robin's short preening session, though he would deny it ever being that, he slowly stumbled his way out of the bathroom and back into the main room. His eyes wandered over to the window to see the sky was still blotted out with clouds but the snow had stopped. And that it was most likely around midday. How long was I out for? There was really only one way to find out. Letting out a short breath he made his way over to his door and slowly opened it while glancing out carefully to make sure none of the people he didn't want to see were there. Mainly Bruce and Dick.

Seeing as the cost was clear the young vigilante took his chance and began to move down the hallway as fast as he could. Once he reached the main stairs he descended down listening to try and see if he could tell where the others were. A faint noise from the kitchen and the smell of food in the air told him Alfred was there. If he was lucky it would be just Alfred. Maybe then he could get some answers.

Out of everyone in the manor, Alfred was the only one everyone respected and got along with easily. Jason couldn't help a small smile on his face at that thought. At least everyone agreed that Alfred is the best out of all of them. He let the smile fall and a frown take its place as he slowly entered the kitchen which, to his utmost relief, was empty save for the trusted family butler who was currently making what appeared to be lunch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bowl of heated chicken noodle soup waiting in his usual spot at the table.

It seems Alfred had heard him wake up and knew he would be coming down soon. "Good evening Master Jason." The Englishman said turning his head ever so slightly to nod at the younger. "Hey Alfred." He offered a wave in return and sat down at his spot, trying to casually look from his soup to the butler as he cooked. "Do not worry; Master Bruce is currently down in the Batcave working on a new case. Master Tim and Master Damian are both in their rooms finishing up their own work. As for Master Richard, he left early this morning to Bludhaven for his job." Alfred supplied as if reading Jason's mind and instantly putting the wayward Robin at ease. At least he didn't have to come into contact with Dick for the remainder of the day. Until he was off the clock that is.

Carefully he pulled a spoonful of the delicious smelling soup to his lips and swallowed it. Enjoying the warmth it provided and how it actually settled in his stomach. "Thank you Alfred, for the soup and all." He said awkwardly as he shifted. The fact that the old butler still saw him as family, even after all he has done, was a wonder to Jason. He didn't deserve Alfred's kindness. The butler just offered a small smile to the younger man continuing to cook the rest of the family's lunch.

"Alfred…. How long was I out for?" As his question rung out silence filled the air. Well as much silence as one could have with the sound of sizzling food and cutting of vegetables. For a few moments the Englishman didn't turn to face Jason or answer his question making the vigilante think he hadn't heard him. Until, "You were out for three days."

Jason almost choked on his soup as he heard this. Coughing harshly and hitting his chest a bit to help relieve the pain. A glass of water appeared before him which he gratefully took and drank from greedily. Once he finished he set the glass down and stared at Alfred with wide eyes. "Three days? I was really out that long?" He rasped biting his lip nervously. Well that wasn't to be expected. "You were very delirious when Master Richard and Master Bruce brought you home. Hallucinating and mumbling occasionally." The elderly man began to explain causing Jason to go silent as he listened intently to what he was being told. "Master Bruce gave you some sedatives to try and help you get some sleep yet every time you awoke you weren't coherent enough."

He had woken up? No memories of such events surfaced no matter how hard the ebony haired man tried to rack his brain. "I can't believe I was out for that long." Jason mumbled rubbing his hand over his face with a small groan.

"This is what happens when you do not properly clean your wounds Master Jason." Alfred's tone was scolding as he reprimanded the younger. Shit. Here it comes. This was one of the many things he had been hoping to avoid. Another famous lecture from dear old Alfred.

"You should have come to us the moment you had been feeling unwell. We could have helped you sooner and prevented all of this from escalating as far as it had gotten." Jason groaned and put his head in his hands as the older man scolded him on not properly taking care of himself. Or how he should have told them at least that he had been injured in some way. Somehow his lecture turned to that of his living environment and how it was unfit for anyone to live in, let alone Jason himself.

"I think he has learned his lesson Alfred." At the sound of the familiar gruff voice Jason completely stiffened and kept his gaze on the ground. Here he was hoping to avoid the older man at all costs. The sound of footsteps approached the table before the owner settled himself in one of the many chairs. An awkward silence hung in the air between them as Alfred went on back to cooking, knowing these two at least needed to talk to each other. Finally after what felt like hours, "How are you feeling Jason?"

For a moment he chose not to answer Bruce. Deciding to stare at the floor instead. But some part of him reasoned the man deserved an answer after caring for him like he has. "Still shitty. But not as bad." He said finally raising his teal colored eyes to meet Bruce's vibrant blue ones which had been studying him this entire time. A wave of emotions flickered through the older man's eyes as he saw the state his son was in before going back to the unreadable expression.

Jason just leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms with a small scowl. "Mind telling me why I am still here?" Bruce's eyes danced with confusion as he looked from Alfred then back to Jason. "What do you mean?" He questioned warily knowing he had to tread carefully around Jason. The wrong word could set the wayward bird off and it would be better for everyone's health if there were no fights during this precious time while Jason was there. "Why am I still here, in the manor? I would have thought you would have drugged me up with some medicine then dropped me off in Arkham or some hell hole like that."

Pain and hurt filled Bruce's eyes for a fraction of a second and he winced a little at his adoptive son's harsh words. Jason's expression was stoic and cold while on the inside he felt a little guilty for his harsh words. This man was trying to help nurse him back to health and here he was being a complete ass.

"Jason, no matter what happens you will always be a part of this family…. We wouldn't just drop you off somewhere else the moment we helped you." Bruce began slowly while picking every word carefully. Silence came from the younger prompting him to continue. "I know I made the mistake of putting you in Arkham once…. And I regret ever thinking such a thing…. You are my son and I just want to help you…." Anger suddenly lit up Jason's eyes as he abruptly stood up causing his chair to fall back and clatter loudly to the floor causing both older men to stare at the younger who had his fists clenched at his side.

"Stop spewing such bullshit Bruce." His voice was filled with venom as he steadied himself against the table and gripped the edge until his knuckles went white. "You don't care about me. All I ever was to you was another one of your soldiers. That one Robin who went rogue. One of your greatest mistakes." Jason glared at Bruce who kept a stoic face against his son's anger. Having already been at the brunt of it many times before.

"Jason I-" But the younger promptly cut him off by slamming his fist on the table. "Save it for your precious golden boy. Or the replacement. I don't want to fucking hear it." He snapped as he stood upright and turned to the door. "The moment I am feeling better, I am gone." Anger and cold detachment filled the air as he stormed from the kitchen and made his way upstairs. Once he reached his room he slammed it as hard as he could causing the walls to shake and the noise to echo through the house.

Down in the kitchen Bruce let out a defeated sigh was he bowed his head slightly. "Just give him time Master Bruce. Master Jason is a stubborn one. But he will see the truth eventually." Alfred offered as he set the food out on the table, offering his old friend a comforting glance.

"I hope you are right Alfred… I do hope you are right…."