Author's Note:

So if you haven't heard "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons I would suggest you listen to it really quick, being that is what this whole story is based off of. In the beginning more of how their love is literally "Awakening" and now since Dick is waking up, I tried to incorporate a lot of the themes from the song into this chapter. Also, please review and favorite, I need your input! I have no idea where to take the story from here!

I saw white. I might have been the light at the end of the tunnel. It might have been a chemical reaction in my brain. All I knew was this white light. It was sudden and then it was gone. I felt numb, disembodied you might say, technically speaking. I was dead.

I heard Jason's voice echo to me. I tried to call out to him, but it couldn't find my voice. I couldn't find anything. I couldn't look around, I couldn't see my body.

I was afraid. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what was going on. I didn't want to spend eternity alone and afraid.

"You are not leaving me." The voice cut through the fog again. It was his voice, I knew it. I would recognize it out of thousands. Silly for me to be hearing it now, being dead and all.

There was no sound for a long time. I held onto his voice in my memory. I seared every touch, every word in my mind. I wouldn't forget him in death. I memorized every curve, every rise and fall of his body. That memory kept me sane.

I don't know how long I was there in the darkness. It felt like forever. My mind wasn't working properly much anyway, so it didn't matter. It seemed like death should have taken longer. Usually it is quick. Maybe this darkness was my personal hell.

I began to feel pain. It was strange, feeling a ghost pain in a limb that you can't see. Everything was black. But somehow, my heart hurt. It must be heartbreak, I thought dimly. It is literally breaking.

Had Jason been there, he would have rolled his eyes and told me to stop being so melodramatic, but he wasn't there. Yet somehow, his voice still was in my mind. I could hear him through the darkness, but it was fogged. I could not comprehend what he was saying. He was talking to me, somewhere out there, I could feel it.

The pain became worse. So worse in fact, that I managed to find my voice in the darkness to scream out for him. I screamed my voice hoarse in the black abyss. Although it did me no good.

It wasn't like I had some huge revelation or anything. One moment my mind was simply numb, dead, and the next it was firing. The entire ordeal must have only lasted a few minutes.

Everything called at once. It was as if I was just coming up from being underwater. I crawled my way back into my unresponsive body above me. I pushed myself back into the limbs, forcing them to respond to my touch.

"Jason!" I sat up, sensed exploding around me. A beeping machine to my left was going crazy, sounding off all kinds of alarms. My eyes were pinpricks, unseeing in the harsh light of the room.

"Grayson?" I heard an unfamiliar voice next to me. I turned with a quick motion.

"Who are you?" My eyes started to adjust and I took in my surroundings. Something was very wrong. I was in a hospital, not the Batcave.

The only real alarm in my head was my lung. It was not hurting. It should have been. An upright jolt on a healing bullet should have given me searing pain at the least.

"You're awake." I turned to look at the boy again. He was a teenager (around 15) with short black hair and blue eyes. I did not know him. Something about him, it tugged at my memory. "Bruce said…the doctors said you wouldn't wake up. Jason has been here so much. He's been talking to you, trying to get you to wake up. They said…it wouldn't be any use."

"Who are you?" I said again, looking around the room frantically.

"It's me, Damian." I looked at him, gaping. It was impossible. Damian was only ten.

"No. No. No. This isn't happening." I jolted out of the bed, staring at his face. I pulled the needles out of my arms and a trickle of blood oozed out. "This is impossible."

I backed to the door, still staring at his face. It was not possible. I felt myself run into a sturdy body. It was warm and clutched my arms. Automatically I felt at ease even when my mind was falling apart. His touch soothed me.

"Dick?" I would have known that voice anywhere.

"Jason?" I turned to him. He was different; I could see it in his features. He was older, taller, and scarier. His face had a new set of ridges and incomprehensible anger that I had never seen before, even for him. "What is happing?"

He said nothing, only looked at me. He did not smile. He shook his head, muttering to himself. His eyes were swimming but he did not cry. He didn't need to be strong for me.

"You were in a coma. You died and the doctors brought you back, but you had really bad brain damage from the dead cells. They said it would take a miracle." His voice drifted off but his eyes stayed plastered to mine, as if making sure they were real. He was scaring me. "I stayed here at first. I've been talking to you. I read that it might help. Familiar voices can help stimulate the brain to connect the nerve fibers back to the brain stem."

"Jason…" I looked down. I was different, not just him. I was smaller. I pulled up the flimsy cotton shirt I was wearing. I had no muscle tone. My eyes widened. I had a faint pink scar over the bullet wound. It was already fading. I looked back up to him with fear.

"Dick. I thought I'd lost you." He looked at me with tears spilling over his bottom lids. "You've been gone for five years."