Title: Acid
Words: 2655
Rating: G
Fandom: Batman
Characters: The Batfam featuring Alfred's World Reowned Buttered Scones.
Summary: Jason, is being Jason. As in, he doesn't take care of himself and the Bats then proceed to die mid way through a bite of sandwich and go to Jason's immediate crack/Half hurt comfort sprinkled with out of character characterizations. This was a pure indulged fic. Enjoy.
There are times when his body seems to... In lack of a better term... rebel.
It would be hard to breathe, difficult to eat, and with a consistency of being sick it was miserable. Violently so. And not to mention sleep, pft... just what was that again?
Wasn't the flu, but oh whatever this was made him wish it was. There were plenty of illness, injury's, and wounds that he had pushed through to patrol. However, when his stomach started with that all too familiar dull ache- he knew he better bunker down with the antacids. It was going to be a ruff couple of days that followed.
His arm curled a bit tighter around the throbs emanating in his midsection.
It happened, once every couple of months. Especially after some extremely tough cases. Never did seem to last for more than a couple of days. Never something to bother Leslie or the bats about. It... it wasn't important. Just a stomach ache.
Also, it was never noticed by the bats, which wasn't unusual. The Red Hood needed days off now and again. Also, he went under the radar frequent enough that it was considered to be a 'special mission'.
Nevertheless, if his counting was correct -since he was slightly disoriented- it had been a week plus five days.
That meant he had been under the radar for- coughing suddenly the thought was interrupted. Some phlegm mingled with blood pooled the crook of his sleeve from the effort. A week and five days. And that meant some bats may start and get suspicious as to why he wasn't around. And some of the crime alley gangs might start to get itchy again. Shoot.
Lying on the couch, he curled into a ball. Stomach burning as acid flooded up his throat menacingly. He was almost tempted to eat something just so he could throw something up besides bile. The idea of moving almost made him want to-
Hurling himself forward on the couch he hung his head to the side as his stomach seemed to make the decision for him.
#$%
...
Flinching at every tug and yank the spasms caused, he hazily opened his eyes.
Shoot, he missed the bin.
Forcing himself into a sitting position, he moaned sliding back against the cushion. Soft.
As a few tears accidentally spread their way down his face he wiped them away as quick as they fell. It was bad. He needed help. He couldn't even walk to relieve himself if he had to.
Choking on more saliva due to the rawness of his throat, it sputtered over his lips dampening his already sweat soaked shirt.
Reaching over, he forced his way up. "Ugh, Gaw-" Acid shot up his throat against the pain the movement caused, and before he could even open his mouth- it shot up through his nose dribbling down his chin. Sneezing followed as a result.
He shuddered with his nose dripping onto the already soiled floor in front of him. This really- hurt.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Looking up he caught his breath. Dizzy, it took only moments for him to fall back against the couch with a thud. One breath in. One breath out. One breath in. One breath out.
It was as if he couldn't get any air in or out.
Useless, this was all so useless.
His Phone. Blinking his eyes open just as they had begun to close shut he glanced about. Sleep. Bad. Where was his phone?
Just how much time had he already wasted?
Coughing again he glanced down underneath the table, of course it was under the table. Of #$% course...
Something red shimmered atop the coffee table beside him.
Ah.
His helmet.
That could work.
Hopefully someone would still be patrolling this time of night.
Now he would just have to... Reaching his hand out within a fingers reach he whimpered closing his eyes.
One breath in. One breath out.
He had to do this. Biting against the pain, he leaned over grabbing the bottom edge on the helmet bringing it towards himself with a thunk and slide through vomit laden on the floor.
Inwardly cringing, he bit back a groan. And now when this was all said and done... his poor babe was soiled.
Collapsing against the back of the cushion he panted from the effort. He couldn't fret about it now. What was done was done. In. Out. In. Out. In- Black dots speckled his vision. Quite literally it was do something now or forever keep his tongue.
Slipping the helmet on his head he fumbled for a moment before pressing the button.
"Someone, Copy?" He rasped.
There was a pause.
"Is there anyone #$% there. COPY?" The remaining strength in his voice begin to give away as he panted harder. His helmet was really hot.
"Red Hood we copy."
Dick.
"I ..." His vision began to sway even though he was but sitting still. Leaning further against the back cushion he slid down to the side.
"I-" He began again being cut off with the worse fit of coughs yet.
"Hood?" Dick said again.
Something red splattered on the inside of his helmet.
"HOOD? Where is your location?" All the words began to become mixed and fuzzy. They all mixed together not making any sense.
"..He... lif.. sign..."
"Coug.."
"Dis.. or..inted.."
Then, It went eerily quiet.
It was a easy night. And no, He didn't say it too early. Fingers crossed. Everyone was home and safe.
Finally.
It had been one of those annoying weeks.
Taking a deep sigh he relished the hot water drenching his greased hair and sore muscles that only the Bat Caves shower seemed to relieve. Bat Spa Jets and all.
He groaned pressing his head against the wall tiles. Back was killing him.
As easy as this night was, it was never easy to spring across rooftops being the ever-go luck vigilante. Easy as it may, he feared that one of these days he was going to run out puns. Now wouldn't that be 'p'unny.
That elicited a chuckle just as standing aright.
A chirp sounded from his comm.
Peeking his head from behind the shower curtain, he eyed his suit as water dribbled unto the outside wall and to the tile floor. A simple brush through his hair added to the growing puddle. He was off the clock, so was everyone ... else?
Shaking it off, he finished his ministrations stepping outside of the shower quickly. Picking his comm up where he had chucked it on the floor, he placed it in his ear wrapping a towel around his waist and a floral hair towel beneath his neck. Locky hair and all.
Squirming his face at the static he threw another towel on the wet puddle stepping outside of the shower room. First, lets deal with the static coming in on the headset and then the costume on the floor before Alfie killed him.
Pressing the button, he launched himself in a swivel chair before-
"Grayson could you at least get dressed? It is an unseemly sight."
"Hit the showers Kiddo, you yourself is the unseemly sight." He responded chuckling as the kid pouted turning a foot.
Tapping his foot, the comm's seemed to turn on an off as with a noise he couldn't identify between the mute points.
"That's strange... hm."
Oh gosh, please tell them they didn't need to hunt down another missing headpiece. This would be the fourth time... in a year.
It was only February.
"Someone Copy?" A voice rasped startling him from his reprieve.
Heck.
"Is there anyone #$% there. COPY?"
That was-
"Red Hood we copy." A bunch of flight or fight responses fluttered through him. This wasn't good. Jay never used this line.
A soft voice, "I.. I-" Followed by a piercing set of coughs, had him rolling in the chair contacting Oracle. He hit the emergency call on his phone for Bruce.
" #$%."
"Hood?"
Patching through the line to Oracle he didn't need to explain the situation she could hear it for herself.
"HOOD? Where is your location?"
This was bad. This was bad. This was really really bad.
Just then tumbling footsteps darted down the stairs. "Whats going on?" A voice muddled with sleep asked softly.
"Its Todd-" He supplied.
The coughing continued before going quiet.
Bruce's face fell. "Oracl-"
"His life signs show his respiration is falling- quickly... Pulse is, " She paused. "Strong but.. showing signs of steadily decreasing. Coughing earlier, and seemingly disoriented."
...
"Oh #$%, he is in his third safe house... the one closest to the harbor..." Her voice fell quiet for a moment. "About thirty minutes away."
Bruce cursed. He all but sprinted to the Bat Mobile not even throwing a proper suit on besides his helmet.
Darting himself to the vehicle he hopped in the passenger seat.
"Oracle, get a hold of Agent A, or Doctor L. Looks like we are going to need one or the other on standby." He supplied, car already moving as he buckled.
"We need Doctor L. Their the closest." Bruce barks handing him a glue on mask.
Doing so diligently, he blinked.
So much for an easy night.
He should have crossed his toes.
Hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. He was second guessing his actions. Would the zeta tube been better? No, it would have still taken approximately twenty minutes considering he would have definitely needed to be suited.
Checking the time he willed it to go faster.
Just five more minutes Jay. Just five more minutes.
Dick held the comm's- he had that covered. He could just breathe. It was going to be okay. It was going to be okay- he would get to Jason in time. The car swerved to a stop.
He was pushed in the shoulder before the door slammed and yanked him out from the opposing side. "Bruce. We gotta go."
Running in a full on sprint, he ran not caring for a moment that code names had been discarded nor that he was running around as Batman clad in Boxer Briefs and a t-shirt.
Banging against the door, he pushed against it with his shoulder with all his might.
Hearing it open, he all but fell in rushing to his sons side.
"It is okay Baby Bird."
Groaning, he feverishly laid his head on Dick's shoulder not caring that he was getting vomit all over his way to colorful shirt... or... scarf? There was too much of his insides everywhere else besides where it should be to care right now just where and who it was getting onto.
"Shh, its alright."
It sure as #$% didn't feel alright.
Shivering, a hand brushed through his unkempt hair bringing along with it a choked sob that sounded like it was from him. Although, he couldn't be sure.
Everything hurt, so flipping bad. Moaning, he moved his legs and arms trying to move away from the pain only to be stopped as another set of hands leaned him back massaging his neck briefly. There were some exchange of words he couldn't seem to make out as the edges of his blurry vision began to grow dark again.
"Mpfh-brmpft." He muttered trying to speak as another wave of nausea over took him.
"Jas-, can- hear m-?" A voice asked.
"mmph."
"We- take you- Hos-"
Groaning he buried his head into the closest area of warmth surprised when he suddenly took to air.. everything was float-y.
"Shh, its alright Jay."
The whole world swayed in an array of colors with the only thing remaining consistent was pain and one... strange sentence?
"Bruce, I'm sorry about your shoulder but if I carry him I'll drop my towel."
Then ... it all stopped again.
Waking up again was... no treat.
Frankly, his head hurt and the boisterous amount of noises around him were alarming to say in the least.
"What were you thinking? Coming in a towel for goodness sakes. There should be some medical scrubs in the back closet." A woman's voice edged on with despair.
"Its fine- Alfred-"
"Don't you two Alfred me. I really don't know how he deals with you two..." A groan commences. "Bruce sit down before you fall down- take the #$% mask off and relax. Its two in the morning. I will explain the 'car' somehow, since NO ONE is here nor saw you come into this building. No need for Batman action. And you- get the scrubs before you freeze to death, and three... Why did you not call 911? You guys know that a hospital besides myself and Alfred exist right?" The voice lowers. "I have never seen such a disordered-"
Groaning he rolled on his side to block the sounds. One he couldn't seem to get rid of was that infuriating beeping though.
This seemed to draw attention to some quick paced footsteps accompanying his name before the lights went out again.
"Never have I ever been so a loss to words when I have some many things to say." Another tapping commenced with an arm cross.
Alfred was the only man living or dead that could frighten Superman into submission when mad. Another tap of those prestigious shoes followed along with a twitch of an eye.
"I had presumed when Miss Leslie had informed me to ... the predicament- aware of the time in the morning, I figured it to be ... an overstatement."
Awkwardly shuffling in a patients gown- he couldn't find the scrubs and didn't dare ask Miss Leslie; he coughed lightly.
Earning an eye roll- he supposed that now was not the time for shame.
"Both you two- Blimey... I am but butterfingers crossed and gobsmacked... " He squeaked lowering into his seat.
"Besides the fact you almost gave the Wayne's second identity away... and almost killed Master Jason in such a daft attempt..." Alfred folded his fingertips between his brows in a frustrated tone, voice lowering several decibels.
"My good towels Master Richard... My Good towels." A shake of the head commenced.
"And the new t-shirts... I recently purchased for you Mr. Wayne."
'Mr. Wayne'. He widened his eyes. When Alfie used... fighting words such as 'Mr. Wayne.' It normally meant no cookies for an entire month. Alfred was... beyond mad.
They were toast.
"They were Egyptian cotton." Alfred pointedly looks at the smear of blood and other fluids smeared across the top. "Expect there to be no-" Alfred leans in to both Bruce and himself. "Butter scones for two months."
"Not the buttered scones..." He gasps.
"But I promised Diana..." A soft voice echoed besides him.
This time waking up was nice. Why had he been asleep for so long?
Digging further into the warmth he purposely took deep breaths relishing in the relief. No more pain.
"He didn't do that when I hugged him."
"Oh- I thought you were choking him Grayson."
"Dami! I was not choking our brother."
"No you were suffocating him." Another voice replied muffled with a sound of chewing. "Can I have another scone Alfred?"
"Of Course, Master Timothy. You, Master Damian, and Miss Leslie are allowed to have as many as you would like."
"Tim!"
"Shhh..." A voice rumbled closer to himself than the other voices. "Let him sleep."
Yea, people let him sleep. Burying into the warmth he yawned stretching. He definitely wanted a scone though.
Something shifted wrapping around tighter around him. Hm, Maybe not just yet.
Yea... this was nice.
Really nice.
"We will all talk to Master Jason in the morning about his particular... derelict regarding his health. Especially the reasoning as to why he has been ignoring medical attention for these, episodes of pain- or rather in short, stress ulcers." A voice edged with an amused British twang rang.
"Yes, yes we will indeed." A familiar feminine voice replied holding the same amusement.
The room hushed, and he quickly- as fast as one could manage fell back to sleep.
Prehaps... 'nice' wasn't the best term.
How did turn into a crack fic.
Thankyou for everyone who has taken the time to read this story! (づ￣ ³￣)づ
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Disclaimer:
Now, Major stuff!
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