Chapter Text
It hurt just to breathe.
He wheezed, an uncomfortable, painful, confining feeling gripping his lungs.
They wouldn’t expand properly. He felt liquid in them, somehow. He didn’t know you could feel what happened inside. Aside from the obvious thing like stomachaches, of course.
It felt like something sloshing in his rib cage every time he moved an inch.
It didn’t help that he had to grit his teeth and screw his eyes shut every time at the slightest movement, just to ward off a scream of pain.
His mom had betrayed him. She was supposed to love him. She sold him out and she just watched as this happened to Jason.
He couldn’t let her die, though. No one deserved to die by that maniac’s hand.
Jason, carefully, cautiously, warily, army crawled to the warehouse door.
Every second was excruciating, agonising, only his shoulders moving and supporting his body.
Most of Jason’s bones, he was sure, had been broken.
His fingers were twisted grotesquely, his ribs bit painfully into his flesh,he was sure that one was puncturing his failing lungs too, his leg had a bullet wound, but both of them were broken, bones nearly sticking out.
His shoulder was dislocated and his skin mottled with black and blue bruises. He couldn’t see a patch of skin spared from the brutal torture he had earlier endured.
White spots danced in his vision as he made his way to the steel door.
He had to get there. He had to keep Shiela safe, even she was the reason this happened.
She hadn’t known it would end up this way. Even if she had expected for Jason to die nonetheless.
After finally making his way there, the painful experience came to an end.
Jason reached-up, up ,up-towards the cold, silver handle.
His broke fingers grasped at it. Biting his lip to keep the whimper at bay, Jason slowly pulled down, down, down.
Slowly, tensely, it moved with the motion.
He was nearly free. He just had to get this door open.
And soon enough, it-
Clicked.
It clicked.
God, Jason wanted to laugh, bitter and angry and torn and broken. He wanted to sob until the suffering stopped, wanted to scream until people let him live in peace.
But, maybe Bruce would get here.
He had to. Bruce promised he’d protect Jason. He promised.
And Jason knows he went off on his own. Knows he was supposed to wait.
But his mother had said that monster was gone. That Jason could help her.
And look where that had gotten him.
Jason exhaled and leaned himself against a crate.
He wanted to rest. Just close his eyes and get this over with-
Tick.
-what was that?-
Tick.
-Jason knew that sound. He hated that he knew that sound-
Tick.
-god, please let him be wrong. Please-
Tick.
-Jason breathed in, steeling himself. Slowly, he turned to look at where the sound was coming from-
Tick.
-and it was a bomb-
Tick.
-a sob ripped from Jason’s hoarse throat as he saw the bright red numbers ticking down, down, down-
Tick.
-down to Jason’s doom.
He was going to die, he thought numbly, staring at the bomb.
Ten seconds left.
He missed Bruce. He was sorry that he’d gotten angry at the older man. But Jason just-he was frustrated.
Bruce gave rapists and traffickers and rogues the benefit of the doubt. Why not his own son?
Why couldn’t he believe that Jason hadn’t killed Garzonas?
But it was Jason’s fault. It always was. He should have tried harder, been better.
Nine seconds.
He was never enough.
That’s why Catherine chose drugs over him.
Why Willis beat him.
Why Bruce wanted another Dick Grayson, not Jason Todd.
Why even Shiela betrayed him, already seeing he wasn’t enough, after only knowing him for a few hours at best.
Eight seconds.
He never was as good as Dick.
He wished they could have been close. They had just started mending their relationship.
Seven seconds.
He wished he’d read more books, maybe.
He loved them, couldn’t get enough of them.
Alfred would let him stay up late to finish whatever he was reading.
Six seconds.
God, Alfie.
The man was like family to Jason. Would he miss him?
Jason hoped so. But he also didn’t want to hurt him.
Love wasn’t supposed to hurt. Alfred had taught him that.
Five seconds.
He and Barbara weren’t that close either. He wished he’d gotten to know her better.
Four seconds.
The Titans were nice, they liked him. But they were Dick’s, never Jason’s.
Three seconds.
Bruce wasn’t coming.
He wouldn’t make it in time.
Two seconds.
Jason’s body sagged in acceptance, in resignation.
He wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.
One second.
He screwed his eyes shut just as the warehouse burst.
The rubble crushed him, the flames burned him, licking at him as he choked on blood and smoke.
Darkness creeped into his vision and Jason gladly let it.
It soon encapsulated him, not warm or cold, just existing, embracing, and Jason let himself rest.
——————
Jason woke up, lying on green grass.
He blinked slowly at the swirling emerald sky above him, unsure if he was dreaming or not.
He sat up, taking closer look around.
Islands floated in the distance, as if gravity was a suggestion.
All were coloured green or purple or various others.
Jason was lost and confused and in unknown place, at that.
He squinted his eyes, digging through his skull, trying to piece together what happened.
The memories hit him like a sword through the heart.
Shiela-the Joker-the crowbar-the bomb-
Jason had died.
God, he’d died.
He shoved the revelation away, knowing he’d have to deal with it sooner or later.
Jason preferred later.
Despite the thoughts swirling in his head, only one he needed answered.
Where the hell was he?