Set in the same universe as, but before, either of the previous chapters. A snippet from the first time they worked together in the field. Impalement injuries ain't fun, y'all.

Written as a pacing exercise, which was pulled from keyboardsmashwriters. Their writing exercises are actually pretty cool and unique- actual exercises and not just prompts- and if anyone knows where I can find more like them, I would definitely appreciate it!

Triggers: Impalement, sensory deprivation, vomiting

Prompt 3: Injuries | Bonding During A Mission

Jason took point. Neither position was ideal for Colin. Metahuman or not, he was still a kid and he doubted injuries that he sustained while in his human form healed any faster when he was in his other form. Behind them, at least, they knew nothing waited in the dark for them. Somehow, the pale yellow glowstick continued to shine, thought it was about as useful as a paper umbrella. Even the night vision filters built into the hood couldn't work with the dim light. It couldn't even pick up the outline of his hand on the wall barely a foot from his face.

Colin had offered to give Jason the glowstick, but both of his hands clung to the small stick with a vise's grip that did not relent even when Jason told him to keep it. He needed his good hand if more trouble arose before they hit the exit, and if they got separated again it would be easier to find Colin if he had the stick.

He kept his good hand on the wall extended just bit ahead of him, feeling along the dark stone passageway. The pain in his abdomen had unraveled to a cold, thready pain. Maybe it wasn't as bad an injury as it had seemed. He just might get out of this ok.

In the close quarters of the stillness, their footsteps echoed around them, drowning out any other distant sounds that may have been approaching. Despite himself, he threw a glance behind him every so often, searching for a distant flashlight or any sign of danger.

His fingers picked up the change in texture on the wall. There were straight lines, corners even, in the dents and divets built into the wall. Brick?

"Hey kid," he said, looking behind him at Colin, "Can you-"

That's about when he crashed into a brick wall.

Swearing, Jason staggered back. The pain in his abdomen flared back up. The heat had returned, not as consuming and demanding as last time, but now it followed the biting cold's spread through his body. The wall became the ceiling, then the floor, and he clenched his fist, leaning against the wall as he fought off another bought of nausea.

"Hood," Colin's light, anxious voice registered. With his insides churning like the inside of a concrete mixer, he didn't dare reply.

"What happened? What was that?" Colin tried to press closer, his breathing fast and sharp. Jason braced his hand against the wall and stood.

"M' fine. Think it was a wall," he said around the remnants of the nausea in his throat. He reached out. Cold, pitted metal with iron bands riveted across it met his searching fingers. He ran his hand down to the side. A knob slotted into his hand. A door. About fuckin' time the universe started to pay up. "Good news, kid, we're almost outta here."
"Is it locked?" Colin asked, gravel shifting as the kid shuffled in the dark and Jason tried the knob. It turned, but when he pushed, the door did not give. Jason put more weight on it, then felt along the sides of the door, searching. No hinges. "Yeah. I think it's barred on the other side."

A low, tired sigh. Colin stepped toward the door as he slipped the glowstick into the pocket of his stained flannel jacket. "You'll need to move back."

Yeah, fuck that. The kid had said himself he was running on empty. He was the adult here. He wasn't going to make Colin shift again when all they needed was to kick a fucking door down.

With a single smooth motion he sent his heel smashing through the door just shy of the knob, his aim confounded in the dark. The sound of the metal door flying open and crashing into the wall filled the small space like a thunderclap, as fireworks exploded across Jason's vision. He had expected a resurgence of the pain. He hadn't expected the rebar lodged in his abdomen to scrape against his pelvis, to send fire echoing down his nerves, flowing down his bones and setting them ablaze like whiskey on Mother's Day. His insides were twisting on each other in a furious knot. He cursed as his fingers scrabbled on the hood's catch. Cold, bony fingers slipped in and undid it for him, and he threw the hood to the side as he retched.

The nausea faded after a couple heaves, but the burning clung to his marrow. Colin hovered behind him. "Hood, are you ok?" he asked.

"Oh, totally," Jason said around heaving breaths. Somehow, he'd ended up hunched over on his hands and knees. Yeah, sure kid, great choice in role models. "I just remembered Lex Luthor was running for president. Think that's enough to make anyone with a brain barf, right?"

Caught off guard, Colin gave a startled, sharp little laugh. Jason started to rise, but stumbled as the pain flared up again. Colin stepped closer, hovering uncertainly. Jason pulled away, forced his legs to work, and rose unsteadily.

"I could have opened it," Colin said, "you didn't have to do that."

"You can have the next one," he said, shaking his head in a futile attempt to clear the last of the dizziness away. Yeah, ok, maybe that was a mistake.

He didn't realize he'd spoken until Colin retorted, "You think?"

"Maybe just a bit." The pain had barely faded, and it was worse than when he'd first started moving. He was half sure he'd managed to dislodge the rebar inside him. He couldn't tell if the new wetness on his skin was a chill from the air or new blood leaking free. Can't let the kid think to check, he thought.

Something clattered in the darkness. "Here. You dropped this." Colin's light footsteps crunched the gravel underfoot. A clack as something banged against the wall. "oops."

"It's fine," Jason said, reaching in the general direction, "'s probably cracked to shit anyway." But the explosives were still inside, and that was an ace he might need before the end of this. "Thanks," he said, as he grabbed the scuffed polymer. Colin's bony fingers, still holding the hood, sucked all the warmth from his hands in the time it took Colin to let go of the hood and slip his hand out.

It was a distraction, and he pounced on it. "Jesus, kid, you're freezing." The moment he said it, all the other signs clicked into place. The rapid breathing. The constant movement.

"What the fuck? Why didn't you say anything?"

"What are you going to do? Build a fire?" Colin asked, and this time, since he was listening, he heard the faint chattering of his teeth.

Jason clicked the hood back on, and shrugged out of his leather jacket, suppressing a hiss as it caught on the nub of rebar sticking out of his back. "Here," he said, tossing it in Colin's general direction. Colin's surprised retort was cut off by the weight of the leather falling on his face. "I've already got body armor. That'll keep me warm enough."

Silence. Then, rustling and the sound of a zipper. In the darkness, that was the best assurance he'd get that the kid had actually put it on. "Thanks," Colin said, his voice low. Jason kicked some gravel at him.

"No problem. It suits you."

"Really?" Colin asked, then realized a moment later that the darkness prevented any scrutiny. "You're mean."

"I don't have to see it," Jason said, starting for the open door, pain be fucked. They had places to be, and he had to get the kid out of here. "Crime Alley kids have style."