#dc jason

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

The bullet was meant for him. The trap was meant for him.

So why?

Why was he the one cradling you as you bled out all over the floor of the warehouse?

Why were you the one struggling to breathe, the rising and falling of your chest getting weaker and weaker?

"Love, please…" Tears blur his vision. He can faintly hear the shouts for him, calling his name, but they're all just faded in the background, paling in comparison to the sound of you dying in his arms.

"Jay…" You gasp, a trembling hand reaching towards his face.

"Shh, don't try to talk. Save your energy, you can say everything once you've healed up alright?" His throat feels tight, his voice unsteady as he tries to reassure himself you.

It's not working.

You cough out a weak laugh, causing more blood to splatter on your clothes. "You…I know —"

You dissolve into another fit of coughing, causing Jason to panic harder. He struggles to form coherent sentences, mind going blank as he watches the only good thing in his life fade away right before his eyes, and all he can manage out is a single plea.

"Please —"

The rest of what he wants to say dies upon his lips when you give him a weak smile. You know there's no saving you, and you've accepted it. Jason doesn't want to accept it, he can't bear to face the reality that will soon be upon him. He's lost so much already, why can't the universe just let him keep one good thing?

"Jay," you rasp out. "Baby."

"I'm listening, love." He chokes back tears. The least he could do is hear your final words to him, but he won't stop trying to save you. His hand is pressed against the wound in your chest, your blood seeping through his fingers and he can feel the life slipping out of your body. He can feel the way each breath becomes shallower as time goes on, the chill that is starting to set in as your body's warmth fades, and he feels fresh tears pour down his cheeks, mixing with the bloody trail you left on them.

"Live."

He sees the moment life fades from your eyes, the very instant when the universe rips you from him, and he screams. He doesn't know how long he screams for, everything is a hazy fog, all he knows is that you're gone. Forever. He knows the Lazarus Pits won't bring back the you he loves so much, and he would never subject you to the same torment he went through. You would hate him for it, and he would hate himself even more for it.

Once his throat gives out, he dissolves into sobs, clutching tightly at your now lifeless body, holding you close to his chest. Bruce approaches him, trying to say something to comfort his adopted son but Jason lashes out with a snarl and a fist, causing him to take a step back. Dick tries next, but Jason's fist connects with his nose and he stumbles away, holding his broken nose. Damian quietly watches from afar with Tim, the two wisely avoiding Jason's attack range as their older brother grieves.

"Stay. I'll smile more if you do."

"I'll stay even if you don't."

"You mean it?"

"Of course. It's a promise."

The conversation from that one night rings in his ears. A fresh wave of grief crashes into him and he collapses, pressing his forehead against yours. It's cold to the touch, another painful reminder that he's lost you.

"You promised." He whispers, voice breaking. "You promised to stay. Yet here you are, gone forever. Why? Come back, please."

His throat clogs up as his shoulders shake with each quiet sob, his thumb brushing over your icy cheek. It was his favourite way to greet you, the feeling of your soft skin beneath his calloused finger, the feeling of your lips quirking up into a smile, the feeling of your warmth, reminding him of what he has had.

"Welcome home, Jaybin."

"Mm. Missed you, love."

He'll never get to hear those words ever again. He'll never go back to a house with you waiting inside. He'll never have anything to go back to.

"Why'd you have to go and break your promise?" He whimpers. "Now I'm all alone again. I don't know if I can do this without you."

He shakily closes your eyelids and wipes away the blood at the corners of your lips, hating the sticky feeling on his hands. It hurts, to see your blood coating his hands, to be so aware that the red liquid staining his palms is yours, and to be utterly helpless to do anything about it. He's angry, but also tired, and the flames fizzle out the longer he cradles your corpse.

"I wanted —" The rest of his sentence dies in his throat.

He tries again. Even though you can't hear it anymore, he still wants to say it out loud. For catharsis, he supposes.

"I wanted to ask for your hand in marriage, but could never find the time to. Every time I finally gathered enough courage to ask, something would pop up. You would need to go for something, I would need to go and be Red Hood."

He lets out a bitter laugh. "The Red Hood. Afraid of nothing, except asking the one he loves to marry him. And now he won't ever get the chance to do that."

"I'll never know if you would say yes. I'll never know what it's like to be in a family with you." He feels the anger directed at himself rekindling. "I shouldn't have been so scared. I should have trusted you more, trusted that you would want to spend the rest of your life with me. I'll never know your answer now."

Jason sits on the floor, gently laying your body down. "I really don't know what to do now. All this while, I've been relying on you to be the light, to guide me, and now I have to face this darkness all alone. I won't wake up to you soundly sleeping next to me, won't feel your arms around me, won't feel your breath against my skin. I feel so cold."

He pauses, taking your hand in his.