Hey everyone!
Thank you so much to everyone who faved, followed, read and reviewed! You're all amazing! I hope you all continue to read and leave a review to let me know how you like the story so far, and if you have any ideas for stuff that I could put into the story (I always give credit if I use one of your ideas)!
On a side note, I adjusted Bruce's age a bit from 49 to 46! This is because I realized that if there was a twenty year age difference between Bruce and Dick, then that means Bruce was twenty-eight when he took in Dick, and I think that sounds a little off (I always think of Bruce being around twenty-five when he took in Richard)! Just letting you all know XD
Disclaimer is on my prof.!
Enjoy and review!
After some mental debate, Jason decided it was safe enough to take the teen back with him to the rundown apartment he was "borrowing" while in the city.
Considering that he was "borrowing" the apartment, there was no electricity and the furniture was trashed from the apartment's previous occupants. Still, it more than served its purpose as a safe hideout, with a small stockpile of food and medical supplies and a cheap portable generator that the vigilante had bought from a backwater store that provided enough electricity to run a few lamps to light the main room.
Climbing in through the largest window of the apartment, Jason set his young passenger down on an old mattress on the floor. Satisfied when the teen didn't try to get up, Jason moved to the kitchenette, starting up the generator on the floor in there. As the lamps hooked up to the generator flickered to life, Jason removed his Red Hood helmet and placed it on one of the counters. Turning back to the living room area, Jason inspected the boy who now sat on what had been serving as Jason's bed the past few nights.
It was clear that the younger male was exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a slump in his posture that only those who were ready to pass out had. The wounds that had reopened earlier had clotted up, but others now bled once again. The teen was treating his bad ankle with care, and a hand clutched at a partially healed stab wound in his side. From what Jason could see, that was likely the worst injury. It had missed vital organs and arteries, but no doubt hurt like a b***h.
The boy stared up at Jason with a guarded expression. He was watching. Waiting.
Clicking his tongue, Jason started for one of the two doors on the far wall.
"Wait here." He told the boy shortly. "Don't move."
No reply, but Jason figured that if the boy was smart enough to be able to effectively bribe him, then he was probably smart enough to listen to sound advice.
Passing through a small, dark bedroom that was completely bare of furniture, Jason padded over to a bathroom that was connected to the room. He rummaged through the cabinets under the sink counter, producing one of the first-aid kits he kept on hand. It was a decent size and had more than enough supplies in it to patch up the boy he'd just rescued.
Returning to the main room, Jason found the teen where he'd left him: sitting on the mattress trying to protect the open wound on his side.
Crouching down in front of the boy, Jason set the first-aid kit beside him and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of peroxide, a couple rolls of linen bandages, some medical grade thread and a needle.
Jason could feel the boy's eyes on him as he started wrapping up the teen's ankle. When the boy flinched, Jason grimaced.
"Sorry, kid. I'm out of pain killers."
Jason wasn't quite sure why he was apologizing. In any other situation, he'd probably tell someone to suck it up. D**n, he really hoped he wasn't going soft…
"It's fine." The boy replied hoarsely, voice cracking in his dry throat.
Jason paused, frowning as he glanced up at the boy. Setting down the linen bandages he was wrapping around the boy's ankle, Jason stood and moved to the kitchenette, grabbing a bottle of water from one of the cabinets. He lightly tossed it to the teen on the mattress, who managed to catch it (though not without a wince of pain).
"Drink." Jason instructed. "You sound like crap."
The boy scowled as he twisted off the top of the bottle.
"Yeah. Being tortured for a couple of weeks does that to a person."
'Try nearly a year, kid.' Jason mused as he moved back over and returned to wrapping the teen's ankle.
As the older male worked, an uncomfortable silence fell. When the teen only winced a few times as he cleaned the open cuts on the teen's body, Jason had to admit he was impressed by the boy's pain tolerance. He knew from experience that peroxide on an open wound hurt as much as getting shot, sometimes even more.
As he set aside the peroxide and grabbed a needle and thread, Jason glanced up at the teen's face.
"What's your name, kid?"
The boy gave a slight start, surprised by the sudden question. Jason raised a brow as if to say 'well?' while he threaded the needle in his hand.
"…Jack. My name's Jack."
Jason nodded in acknowledgement.
"Jason." He introduced himself. He figured there was no use hiding his name, just as there was no reason to hide his face. The teen had all but said he was on his own, and Jason could see he wasn't lying. Just who would the boy tell?
And if the boy told anyone, he could handle that later. If they traveled together, then he could keep a close eye on the kid.
Finishing with preparing the needle and thread, Jason moved to the clotted over stab wound on Jack's side.
"I need you to lift up your shirt so I can stitch this up. And I'm telling you right now, it'll hurt like a b***h."
Jason watched as the teen shifted into a more comfortable position and lifted his torn shirt up, gingerly peeling it off over his head. Jason reached forward to help, not wanting the teen to reopen more of his wounds. Once it was out of the way, Jason grabbed the lamp nearest the mattress and pulled it closer. A glance at Jack's face revealed the teen was gritting his teeth tightly, preparing for the pain. Feeling a gnawing guilt in his chest, Jason decided to try and distract the boy.
"If I take you with me, you'll need to do what I tell you. I can't have you running around and getting shot."
Jack seemed confused by the fact that Jason was choosing this moment to talk about this particular subject, but surprise was quickly replaced with pain as Jason began to stitch his stab wound shut. This seemed to make the boy realize that Jason was trying to distract him, and the boy nodded while he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Y-yeah, I kind of figured that." He managed in reply to Jason's statement. "I don't p-plan on causing you- ow!- T-trouble."
Jason nodded in understanding.
"Good. And you better not lie about where the M.E.C.H bases are."
Jack gazed at the older male with a raised brow.
"Does this mean you'll take me with you?"
Jason was silent for a moment, eyes still on the wound he was stitching.
"…Yeah. It'll take me too long to find the bases on my own, and by then they'll probably have moved. I figure bringing you along isn't too horrible. You seem smart enough to stay out of my way." He turned a raised brow onto Jack. "Am I wrong?"
Jack shook his head quickly, though winced when the movement jarred his battered body.
"N-no, you're right. All you- ah! D**nit!- All you have to do is bring me with you and make sure I don't starve or something."
Jason grunted in understanding, and then silence fell once more. Jason did his best to finish stitching Jack's injury as quickly as he could, feeling somewhat unsettled by the teen's pained before him. It reminded Jason so much of himself when the Joker had him...
Shaking himself, Jason finished off the stitches and cut the thread.
"Alright, what hurts the worst right now?"
Jack paused, taking stock of his wounds, then he turned to reveal a decent sized gash across his back, about six inches long but not too deep. It was a flesh wound: nothing deadly, but definitely painful. Jason sighed, shifting into a more comfortable position.
"Take a deep breath and clench your teeth."
Waiting until the boy did as told, Jason then began to quickly stitch the gash. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, if only so his mind would stop going back to the memories of his time trapped as Joker's prisoner.
Everything was quiet, the only sounds being care in the street below and the occasional hitch in Jack's breath when the pain would become intense. Jason wasn't sure what to say that could effectively distract the boy. And so he decided to simply do his best to get the worst of this over with.
It took a half hour to stitch up the worst of the wounds and to apply disinfectant to every open wound and sore. Jason now moved to the pinprick needle marks, inspecting them.
"Do you know what they stuck in you?"
Jack grimaced, shaking his head.
"No. Some of it...Some of it made me stay awake, and some made me jittery. A lot of them made me feel like I was on fire, and really hurt..."
"And that's only some of them?" Jason asked with a raised brow, scowling when Jack nodded. Those B*****ds could compete alongside half of Gotham's criminals for the prize of most sadistic.
Both Jack and Jason froze when there was a low, soft rumbling. Jack then turned red, pressing a hand to his middle.
"U-uh..." He cleared his throat embarrassedly. "I haven't had anything to eat recently." He explained.
Jason cursed himself mentally. He really should've thought about that. Standing, the vigilante moved to the kitchenette and grabbed a half-eaten box of cereal (yes, even Red Hood enjoyed a box of cereal now and again).
"Here, kid. Eat up."
Jack took the box gratefully, taking a fistful of the cereal. Jason, once sure the boy was eating and that he'd treated all of the teen's wounds, stood and took the first-aid kit back to the bathroom. Once there, the man rested his hands on the edge of the sink with a sigh.
Crap, he was getting in too deep here. What had started as a simple search-and-destroy kind of thing was now becoming a babysitting job, it seemed.
Still, he couldn't let M.E.C.H get away. Not with the weapons they were distributing. If that meant he had to keep an eye on a kid for a couple weeks? Fine.
Besides...He knew how horrible it was to be tortured. Jack deserved a little slack.
Taking a deep breath, Jason pushed himself away from the sink and returned to the main room. Jack was still sitting on the mattress and gorging himself on cereal. The teen looked up when Jason entered, and the vigilante crossed his arms.
"So, where're we headed first?"
Jack chewed slowly, thinking for a long moment. He then swallowed before replying.
"Depends where we are."
So the teen had no idea where they were. Probably knocked out and dragged here, Jason mused.
"We're in Texas."
Jack's expression screwed up for a moment, but quickly returned to normal.
"The nearest base is in Arizona."
"Huh." Jason grunted. "Well then. Arizona it is."