#bruce wayne whump

[aeturnum-mendacacium]

How many people do you think batman had to see die? Because batman can't save everyone and this is Gotham, it's not a game, he has most definitely seen people, kids bleeding out to their death and know that they won't make it

Do you think he has held a child in a alleyway, leaning on the tattered wall, and let blood pour out of this boy, maybe a teenager, maybe just a kid, but held them so dearly, rocking them, humming, telling them that he'll be there till it ends, and do you think that during those times, a child so Little would have asked why it's ending, that he didn't want to go, and asked batman to come with him just for a bit cause he was scared to go alone, it doesn't matter what age, how many do you think he lied to? So that they could rest just for a bit, and then held on to that for the rest of his life? And had to move on. Move on and plan for the next day.

Do you think it was the reason why he was late for a few justice league meetings? Holding on to a dying life he knows he couldn't save, lying to them, comforting them, and then arriving late to get interrogated,blamed, for not being on time, and offering a simple offhanded excuse.

?knowing that tomorrow he has to escort another soul because there are no angels anymore to do so, lie to them that he'll follow them through, then turn around at the gates of heaven to drag his bloodied feet and follow his footsteps back to hell?

[mnemosyne-nyx]

I'm in a Bruce Wayne whump famine right now 😭 I'm re-reading comics and fics like a mad, mouth-frothing goblin locked in a cave.

[admiringtheskies]

ok y’all if you like bruce-centric (and especially whump with a side of character study) you have GOT to read this fic, the premise is just fucking AMAZING, and the chapter that OP just posted today had me SCREAMING; like actually pls go just check this out, it’s brilliant and i need more ppl to read it

the specific quote from this newest chapter that actually totally unhinged me (yes i’m using that as an active verb,,, what can i say, my hinges have been banished by Good Words)—

Baking really was a test of patience. No wonder Alfred was so adept at putting up with Bruce. He could never be more frustrating than baking.

(Lies. People liked baking. No one liked Bruce.)

ANYWAYS the plot itself is also quite fascinating so i’m not gonna say anything else, just go read it if you want!!! and thanks/congrats to @SolaceInSpace on ao3 for writing an absolute BANGER of a fic👏🏽

[ktkat99]

Two Weeks Of Whump Challenge Day 11. Hanging (By A Thread)

TW: Depression and loss of apatite.

"It feels like breathing is a chore. Like something you have to do. Like something you should be able to do on your own, but you just keep forgetting. You… you feel like you're walking, trying to just keep moving forwards, but with every step, someones adding more and more weight. But you know you can't stop. You're not allowed. Because everyone always says that if you just keep going, it will all get better. And so all your focus is on just… moving. One foot in front of the other. Again. And again. And again. But it keeps getting harder and harder. And then sometimes you wake up and realize you've been so focused on just moving that you've blocked out literally everything else. Your life, your friends, your family. The whole world. It's all kept moving without you. You weren't necessary."

Tim shifted and looked at his hands, leaning against Bruce's side. "It sucks." He whispered. "I know it does."

Mad Hatter had set off a device earlier that night that amplified all of Batman's most negative emotions until they overwhelmed him and left him disoriented.

"But, please, just… come back?"

Tim, having only been Robin a few months by this point, had frozen in place. He hadn't been sure what was more important at the moment, catching Mad Hatter, or helping Batman.

He'd decided to stay and help Batman.

He'd gotten him into the Batmobile.

He'd managed to drive the both of them back to the cave.

And now, hours later, he was seated on the edge of Bruce's bed, trying to talk to his mentor as the man sat, still as a statue, staring at a photo of himself and his last Robin.

"I… I don't know what the right thing to say is. I don't… I don't know how to help you." Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd been talking for hours, and had barely gotten any reaction.

"Jason's gone, and I can't change that. I can't fix that. And I'm sorry." He felt hot tears as they fell.

"But, if it helps at all, I'm here. I know I'm not who you want, but… at least you're not alone. I always…" Tim trailed off rubbing his eyes with his hoodie sleeve. "I always hate being alone."

Yyyyy

"Hey, Bruce?" Dick knocked on the open door of his father's home office.

"Hey. What's up?" Bruce greeted, eyebrows drawing together in concern.

Dick leaned in the doorway, worry written all over his face. "It's Tim." He nodded down the hall. "He's not eating."

Bruce frowned. That wasn't good.

Tim had been struggling for a while lately, but a few days ago a case had gone sideways and he'd gotten a nasty dose of Fear Toxin.

He'd gotten through it after about half a day, but whatever he'd been forced to see…

"I'm sure he'll eat when he's hungry. Why don't you leave the plate on his nightstand?" At least, Bruce hoped he would.

After waking up, Tim hadn't spoken to any of them beyond a few hoarse whispers about being tired and just wanting to sleep.

They'd helped him upstairs to his bed, and that's where he'd stayed.

At first, they'd all just been happy to see that he was resting and actually taking time to recover.

Then, they'd been relieved and even joked when it seemed he was taking some time to just relax and be lazy for a bit.

But now?

Now they were starting to get worried.

"I don't… Bruce, I don't think he will." Dick sighed. "I brought him dinner last night and the plates still on his nightstand. He didn't touch a damn thing."

Bruce nodded and stood. "I'll see what I can do."

He made his way down the hall to Tim's room and knocked on the closed door.

No response.

"Buddy, it's Bruce. I'm coming in." He called.

No response.

He opened the door and walked in. The light was off and the window closed, making the room dark enough that his eyes had to adjust.

Dirty clothes lay all over the floor, dropped and left where they'd fallen.

His desk held a closed laptop and several stacks of papers and files, all stamped with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo.

The skateboard he used to ride everywhere was leaned against the wall, coated in a visible layer of dust.

And the small lump under the blankets on the bed hadn't so much as twitched since he'd walked in.

Bruce walked closer, seeing that Dick had been right. The plate they'd made for Tim the night before hadn't been touched. Balanced beside it, hanging over the edge of the nightstand, was a bowl of oatmeal.

Dick had sliced a peach into it, the way Tim loved.

He hadn't even taken a bite.

"Tim." Bruce sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. "Are you awake?"

No response.

"Can I get you anything?"

No response.

"Do you want something else to eat?"

It was starting to feel like Bruce was talking to a wall.

Sighing, feeling helpless to protect his child from this invisible foe, Bruce gently set his hand on Tim's shoulder, rubbing it slowly.

"I don't know what you need."

He, again, didn't get a response.

"I don't know what you saw. I don't know what you went through, or if that's even what triggered this."

Bruce reached out with his other hand and felt the bowl of oatmeal. It was room temperature, and starting to dry out.

How long had Dick sat here trying to get his brother to eat something?

"Please, let me help."

He begged softly.

"Please tell me what I can do."

Tim still offered no response. Bruce would almost have thought he was asleep if it weren't for the fact that he could see that Tim's eyes were open. He was staring blankly at the wall, back facing his father.

"You told me once… what it felt like. When you got like this."

Tim blinked.

"You said that it felt like the world and everyone in it just kept moving without you."

Bruce gave Tim's arm a firm squeeze.

"Tim, I'm not moving. I'm not going anywhere."

He rested his forehead on Tim's shoulder.

"Not without you. Because you're my son, and I love you."

Tim's next exhale was shaky.

"I don't care how long it takes. Just, please. Come back to me? I-,"

Bruce trailed off when Tim shifted ever so slightly.

He reached up and grabbed the hand that was still resting on his arm, squeezing it tight.

His hand was shaking, but Bruce chose to focus on the fact that he was moving at all.

"I'm here, Tim." He whispered. "I promise, I'm here."

Tim gently tugged the hand, and Bruce let him move it.

He pulled it to his chest and hugged it tight with both arms like a child afraid to lose their security blanket.

And then he broke.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he ducked his head and curled up into a ball, still desperately clinging to Bruce's arm.

Heart breaking, Bruce wrapped his other arm under Tim's body and hauled him upright, pulling him into his lap.

Tim let himself be moved, but his grip didn't waver.

His entire body shook with sobs, which quickly dampened Bruce's shirt.

Neither of them cared.

"I'm here, son. I'm here. I've got you."

If Tim heard what Bruce was whispering, he gave no sign.

[arianaofimladris]

Chapter six of my Batman story is up!

[abisalli]

There was always a certain shift that happened in Batman whenever he talked to kids that were hurt or scared. He would speak more softly, maybe even kneel down in front of them to personally assure them that they were safe now.

My first piece for this year's @batfam-big-bang! This is a scene from the incredible fic by @fullmetalninjabunny called 'Soft Words Left Unspoken' which you can find here <- 🦇 I had a blast working on this! Thank you so much for having me and also thank you to the mods for a great event <3

Image ID:

An image of Tim Drake as Robin and Bruce Wayne as Batman inside the Batcave. Both characters have their masks off. Tim is sitting on top of a medical bed and is looking to the side with tears streaming down his face. Bruce kneels down in front of him, looking troubled. He is holding Tim’s Mask in his right hand. In the foreground are four boxed captions with the following text, “It wasn’t Batman who was there anymore, but Bruce Wayne. Not the vigilante that had lost a protégé, but the man who has lost his son.”

[bruciemilf]

Don’t you just love it when toxic father figures.

Loved this Jacob & Bruce piece inspired by this post that I couldn’t resist posting it by itself <3

[strange-birb]

Gore warning Ngl idk

[totallynotashieldagent]

genuinely believe that every single bat would ask explicit verbal consent at every time, at every different position, at every progressive state of undress.

doesn't matter if you're married for years or started dating two weeks ago.

It's always can i kiss you? can i put it in now? can i touch you? can i cum on you? or in you? whatever is fine, really. always. every single time.

they'd ramble and stumble over words because they need to know, need to be sure that you're okay with it that what happened to them, the way their autonomy was taken by friends, strangers, enemies, they'd be damned before they even accidentally do it to someone else.

which is, for most part is very sweet and endearing and lovely

but the times when you're holding legs up for them to just CONTINUE and they stop to ask "is this fine? you're okay right?" you kind of just go, DUDE YES !!! because physical cues also are a thing but not to them

unless you say yes with exact words, there is no assumed yes

[kaciart]

Day 10 Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill

-

Patreon | Ko-Fi

[questions-about-blorbos]

This request was sent to us and we made a poll in response to it. Send any Blorbo-related question you want to our inbox and we’ll make a poll on which people can vote with their own Blorbos in minds

[crimsonwolf715]

Used as Bait

Jason and Tim, who have been goofing off since getting out of the Batcave, finally arrived at the GCPD building thirty minutes after they were supposed to be there. 

“Got anything for us, Gordon?” Jason asks. 

Gordon looks up from his file, then looks back down. 

“What is he doing?” Jason asks. 

“Ignoring us for the mandatory five minutes because we wasted his time,” Tim answers. “He put it in place when B got into the habit of making a meeting and then being late for it.” 

“And B hates having his time wasted.” 

“Yup. And to be fair, we’re like thirty minutes late. Gordon does usually have some grace if we’re not too late.” 

Jason takes his helmet off and starts messing with his hair. 

“Is something wrong?” Tim asks. 

“Nope,” Jason answers. “We’re just gonna be seeing Maria before patrol’s over.” 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

“No, of course not. You’re the only one that will let me.” 

“You have to do something for me.” 

“Fine.” 

Gordon offers the file to Tim, so he takes it. 

“Maria your girlfriend?” Gordon asks. 

“Nah, she’s just a friend of mine. But she lives and works in a bad part of town, so I like to try to walk her home,” Jason answers. “She can handle herself, but I literally take out bad guys at least twice a week.” 

“That didn’t work with Barbara,” Gordon says. 

“Yeah, your fiercely independent daughter didn’t want your protection. Maria isn’t a fan of me feeling obligated to walk her home, but she likes that I like to walk her home. We get to talk.” 

“Huh.” 

“We’ve got a possible meeting of gangs?” Tim asks. 

“That’s the thought. We have two officers over there you can meet,” Gordon says. “I want this dealt with tonight if you two can.” 

“Will do, boss. I’ve got something to do at midnight,” Jason replies, “and Red’s got a date with Spoiler.” 

“I already said that I’m not dating Spoiler,” Tim says. “You’re just telling people to get a rise out of me.” 

“Maybe. We’ll come back when we’ve got something for you.” 

“Just call,” Gordon replies. “I’m gonna be in a meeting and then two briefings for the rest of the night. If you really need anything from me, just call.” 

“We will,” Tim says, then the two of them head towards the location in the file. 

They get to the location and there’s an undercover cop car there, just like Gordon said there would be. Tim’s phone rings, so he looks at it. 

“I need to take this. Can you get the info from the officers?” Tim asks. 

“Yeah, of course,” Jason answers, “but it’ll cost you five dollars.” 

“Shut up and go over there.” 

“Whatever.” 

Jason walks over and knocks on the window. He looks inside and nobody’s in the car. 

“Weird,” Jason mutters. “Where did they go?” 

“Red Hood?” 

Jason turns and there’s an officer standing with two cups of coffee. 

“Gordon sent me and Red Robin to help you guys with the incident,” Jason says. “Where’s the other officer?” 

“He’s not in there?” 

Jason shakes his head. 

The officer quickly strides over and looks in the window. “Oh shit, where could he have gone?” 

Jason shrugs, then turns in the direction to check on Tim. Tim’s not standing where he was a minute ago. Jason goes to look around when he feels a needle in the back of his neck. 

“Nighty night.” 

Jason swings his elbow and manages to hit the guy in the face with it before he passes out. 

Tim wakes up to complete blackness. 

“You’ve failed me,” Batman’s voice says.

“What?” Tim asks. 

The scene around him turns from black to a full color image of the city in flames. 

“What happened?” Tim asks. 

“You failed, and we all paid for it.” 

He sees his entire family, bleeding out while the villains are close by celebrating. 

“No, no,” Tim says, shaking his head. “This can’t be real. I… we hold each other up. I can’t be the reason they’re dead.” 

“The most pressure on you to succeed,” Cass says. 

“The most pressure to get everything right,” Dick adds. 

“It’s your fault we failed. Your plan went south and we paid the price for it,” Damian says. 

Tim tries to calm himself down so he doesn’t hyperventilate, but the scene changes to the manor and Tim sees Jason sitting on the couch, reading a book. His blood is still pumping from the stress and anxiety, but he feels a small amount of comfort in the sight of his brother. Tim runs over. 

“Jason!” 

Jason doesn’t look up or acknowledge him. 

“Jason?” 

“I don’t want to be around you,” Jason says. 

“Why?” 

“Because who would want to? You’re annoying, uninteresting, and unable to hold a conversation.” Tim opens his mouth to argue, but Jason continues. “The only reason that Bruce took pity on you was because he was a basket case. If I hadn’t died, you wouldn’t be around. Not even Dick likes being around you, and he likes being around everyone.” 

Tim can’t help the rage that floods him at that moment, especially hearing it from Jason. He was the only one around to help when everything was going up in flames, and any of them feel like they have the right to complain? 

“You’re utterly useless, Drake,” Damian says, appearing out of thin air before Tim can get any farther in his thought process. 

The world goes back to black as Tim tries to figure out what’s going on. 

“Time for you to sleep now.” 

Tim recognizes the voice and he searches for Mad Hatter. He feels himself starting to lose consciousness, but starts thrashing around when he feels something with a similar feeling to a mask being pulled over his face. He passes out without succeeding in getting the mask off. 

Jason wakes up to complete darkness. He hears a familiar laugh that sends a chill up his spine. Jason struggles against the restraints, starting to hyperventilate. Joker comes into view with a bloody crowbar. 

“Ready for round two, little bird?” 

Jason breaks the restraints and throws a punch at Joker. It goes right through him and he starts laughing again. 

“Batman’s favorite toy, how does it feel? You almost caused the downfall of Batman with your death. It must feel fantastic to know that you almost succeeded in your goal solely by getting your head bashed in and then inhaling a little smoke,” Joker says. 

Jason throws another punch at him and it goes through him again. Jason gets his feet untied in enough time for the scene to disappear. Something knocks Jason off balance and he lands on his back. He blinks and when he opens his eyes, he’s lying down in a wooden box. Jason starts trying to bust the box but no matter how much force he uses, it doesn’t break. 

He can feel the oxygen getting thinner. He’s panicking too much and while he knows it, he can’t seem to get his breathing to slow down. He can’t seem to stop panicking. No matter how hard he tries, he’s stuck in this coffin of dread. He squeezes his eyes closed. 

“Dad!” he cries out, hoping that Bruce is right outside to save him. 

“No father to save you. There never was,” Joker’s voice says. “You really think that Batsy ever loved a little screw-up like you? No, he only pretended to. His savior complex made him take pity on you.” 

Jason shakes his head, refusing to believe it again. 

“My dad loves me!” 

Joker laughs, taunting and mocking Jason. 

“Time for you to sleep now.” 

Jason doesn’t recognize the voice and he searches for the person attached to it. He passes out as it feels something go over his face, like a mask. 

Dick’s watching TV, waiting for Damian to call him to discuss the details of Damian spending the weekend with him. Currently he’s watching a rerun of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but he’s only half-watching it. The screen goes black, drawing Dick’s full attention back to it. The screen glitches, then shows a close-up of Scarecrow’s face. Dick sits up. The camera backs away from Scarecrow’s face enough that you can see more of him. 

“Hello, Gotham,” Scarecrow says. “This isn’t for many of you, so feel free to ignore. Batman, on the other hand, we have your little birds.” 

The camera moves to show Jason and Tim in full uniform, clearly in distress. They’re fighting hard against the restraints, but in a wild and restless way that Tim would never normally attempt to get out in. Dick gets and starts searching his coffee table for his phone. Right on cue, it rings. 

He answers. “Hey, Dami. Are you watching right now?” 

“I’m watching,” Damian answers. “Barbara’s trying to figure out where the signal’s coming from and Father’s getting suited up. I’m already suited up before you ask.” 

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.” 

“Thank you. Father’s panicking.” 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

Dick grabs his keys and rushes out of his apartment. He heads to his safehouse to change into costume then gets on his bike and makes a beeline for Wayne Manor. Once he hits city limits, his comm crackles. 

“Grayson will be here when he gets here,” Damian says. “Nothing we’re going to say is gonna make him get here faster.” 

“Hey, I’m at city limits,” Dick says. 

“Hey, Nightwing,” Barbara replies. “I’m sending the location to your bike now.” 

“Thanks, Oracle. How’s Batman?” 

“I’m fine,” Bruce says gruffly. “I’m heading to the warehouse now. How long will it take for you to get there?” 

Dick checks the location. “Five minutes. It’s closer to the city limit than I thought it would be.” 

“We’ll meet you there. I’m here with Orphan and Robin. Spoiler’s out of town.” 

“Alright.” 

He gets there at the same time they do and runs over. 

“Hey, what did the scan of the building indicate?” Dick asks. 

“Four heat signatures and their trackers are still transmitting from inside,” Bruce answers. “Alright, remember that our top priority is getting them out. If one of them gets away, we can deal with it at a later point.” 

Cass and Damian both nod. Dick notices Mad Hatter and Scarecrow leaving the building. Cass notices them too and looks towards Bruce for instructions. Tim and Jason jump down onto the roof and ready their weapons. Bruce nods at Cass, and she goes after Scarecrow and Mad Hatter while Jason and Tim attack the rest of the Bats. Tim viciously attacks Damian with his bo staff and Damian barely dodges. 

“What the hell?” Damian asks. 

“The masks belong to Mad Hatter,” Dick says, trying to grab Tim so he can get the mask off. “He’s probably controlling both Hood and Red.” 

Tim grabs Dick’s wrist and flips him onto his back. Tim jams a batarang into Dick’s arm, pinning him to the roof in the process. Dick hisses and tries to figure out how to take it out without hurting himself worse. After watching Jason beating Bruce and Tim beating Damian for several minutes while trying to think, he finally just pulls it out as fast as he can and runs at Tim. Bruce can hold his own a little longer. Tim drives a hard kick to Dick’s shoulder, which was slightly injured in a battle earlier that week. 

“Shit,” Dick mutters, grabbing his shoulder. “That hurt, bud.” 

Tim swings his staff at him again and Dick grabs the other end. He uses the momentum to throw Tim on his back. Damian grabs the mask and rips it off. 

Damian checks his pulse. “He’s alive. You should probably go help Father with Hood before he makes him cry.” 

Dick looks up and the two are sparring. 

“I knew that Hood could reasonably fight Batman but seeing it is something else,” Dick mutters, “but I’m gonna go help Batman.” 

Damian nods and starts checking for injuries on Tim. Dick flips over to Jason and kicks him hard in the side of the head. Bruce rips the mask off and stomps on it repeatedly. Dick checks Jason’s pulse while Bruce finishes destroying the mask. 

“His pulse is there. Little weak, but steady.” 

“Good,” Bruce says. “Let’s get them home.” 

Bruce watches his kids as they rest and recuperate. Cass is patching up Damian’s injuries while Dick is patching himself up. Bruce notices that Tim starts shaking. Before he has a chance to get up and get him another blanket, Tim wakes up and sits up, looking concerned. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re home,” Bruce says. 

Tim’s facial expression is flat and hard to read. Bruce notices that he seems concerned, but can’t tell about what exactly. He sees everybody and seems to ease a little, but still gets up. 

“You should be resting,” Cass says. 

“I’m gonna go rest in my room. I don’t… I don’t want to be here right now.” 

“Hey, Tim,” Bruce says. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Dad,” Tim says, rushing through the words, then hurriedly heads up back to the manor. 

Jason wakes up not long after. He looks around but his fear and anger are completely visible to Bruce. He gets up to walk over and Jason seems to calm down a little, the anger seeming to disappear. 

“Are you alright?” Bruce asks. 

Jason opens his mouth, then closes it again. He thinks for a moment, then shrugs. 

“I don’t want to talk about it… right now. I’ll talk to you when I feel up to it,” Jason says. “Does that work, Dad?” 

Bruce puts a hand on Jason’s shoulder and nods. “Of course it does.” 

Jason nods. “I’m gonna head upstairs and try to sleep off this migraine that’s hitting me.” 

“Make sure to take something.” 

“I will.” 

Jason heads upstairs as Damian walks over to Bruce. 

“How are you feeling, Damian?” Bruce asks. 

“I’m fine,” Damian answers. “Cassandra stitched up my injury. I’m going to speak to Timothy if you don’t need anything else.” 

“Go ahead.” Damian heads upstairs. 

At least someone can get Tim to talk. If Damian can’t, I think I’ll talk Dick into trying.  

Dick walks up. “Hey, you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” Bruce says. “You?” 

Dick sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t like fighting my siblings in such a setting. It hits the edge of that line I swore I’d never cross again. I’m physically fine, but they could have not been. Mad Hatter had them pushing us full strength. The strain that would have put on their brains…” 

“I know. Don’t worry about that right now. Full brain scans show no signs of damage and we’re gonna keep up with scans until we’re completely in the clear. I won’t let anything happen to them without doing everything that I can to stop it,” Bruce promises. 

Dick nods, then hugs Bruce. Bruce hugs him back and they stay like that until Dick’s phone starts ringing. Dick looks at it, then smiles. 

“Hey, babe. What can I do for ya?” A pause. “I’m gonna take this outside, then probably head home.” 

“Goodnight, Dick,” Bruce says. 

“ ‘Night, Dad,” Dick replies, waving as he walks upstairs with his jacket. 

Bruce heads upstairs after a little while and goes to his room. He leaves his door open a crack, a sign that the kids can come in if they need something, then gets in bed to get some much needed sleep.

[mossysoupfrog]

fam you’re girl needs help

there’s this fic I read and forgot to save like six months ago and I NEEED IT SO BADLY. It’s a Tim Drake au where when he sleeps he wakes up in a different universe where the batfamily is like actually nice and treats him good but then the good TM has to kidnap him from his abusive original universe batfam. If anyone has any clue please lmk!!!!!!

[ktkat99]

Chapter 10

Bruce and Tim help each other deal when their depression gets to be too much

[arianaofimladris]

Whumptober 2023 entry

Fandom: Batman (Nolan's trilogy), Batman Begins specifically

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth

Summary: Batman saves Gotham. Bruce Wayne gets drunk and burns down his house. Alfred is there to pick up the pieces. A missing scene for Barman Begins (after the final fight)

- no. 5 - debris

- no. 13 - "I don't feel so good"

- no. 15 - "I'm fine"

- no. 20 - found family

“Come now, Master Bruce. You’re a bit too old for falling asleep in the car.”

“In a minute.” Bruce flashed him a tired smile, then accepted his outstretched hand. He stumbled out and immediately leaned back against the car, clutching at his right side. He didn’t remember it hurting this much before. 

“A bit too big for me to carry you too, if I may say so.”

[ghostf1ux]

5 Times Jason Saved his the Flock and 1 Time they Saved Him: Your Mom (And Dad (Are Dead))

Day 6: Greatest Fear

Words: 1.8k

TW/CWs: Fear Toxin, Jumping off a building

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

-------------------------------------------------------

“Has anyone seen Nightwing?”

Tim's question sends a jolt of… something through Jason's chest. He fires off another shot at an approaching hireling of Scarecrow's, then takes a moment to actually look around.

From his place on a rooftop higher than most the others around, Jason can make out a few vague blurs of color on other buildings through the smog of fear gas practically dripping off them all. Robin and Batman fight side by side, or rather, back to back, against a horde of henchmen and Scarecrow himself. Spoiler is a spot of purple in the mix of heavy green fog and debris on the streets, helping evacuate the civilians still in the area and fighting what guns-for-hire may threaten them. Red Robin is barely a dot on a rooftop a sizable ways away, standing still while he's presumably checking the computer on his wrist. Black Bat is… well, she's somewhere. Jason can't actually see her, but based on the way some goons are kinda just falling over in some places, he guesses she's fine. Even Signal is out tonight, closer to Jason as far as rooftops go, and easy to spot even with it being nighttime. A mostly yellow suit did that for you.

But no Nightwing. No signature splash of blue flipping his way through fights and comforting those who needed it. No constant stream of chirped puns or quips.

“His tracker is pinging two blocks south of your position, Hood,” Oracle mentions. Jason sighs.

“I'll go check on Goldie, I'm finished with these guys anyways.” He kicks the foot of one of the goons he had knocked out for emphasis, despite the fact that he's the only one who can see it. Whatever, that's what's important anyways.

Within moments he's leaping off the building and soaring through the air, using his grapple to facilitate the airborne movement. He finds a smile pulling at his lips despite the potential situation, and the actual one. He would never get over the freedom of feeling like he's flying when he's traversing the city like this.

That smile falls when he hears a choked sound and sees a cloud of that thick, green gas gathered around a hunched black and blue form on the next building. Jason eases to a stop near the ledge in front of him, making sure his landing is able to be heard.

He falters when he registers the choked sound as Dick sobbing, practically tearing out his own hair with how hard he's pulling it. He doesn't have his rebreather on.

“Did you find him?” Tim asks impatiently.

“Yeah, I found him alright,” Jason responds quietly as not to startle the clearly high-on-fear-toxin Dick. 

“Do you need help?” Yes, he most certainly did because what the fuck is he supposed to do in this situation?

“I've got it, baby bird,” Jason replies tersely instead. Why? Who fucking knows. His inability to let people think he can't handle whatever is thrown his way despite the fact that he definitely doesn't know how to handle this? His internalized self-loathing that didn't allow him to just accept even an ounce of familial affection and love on a bad day? His ego?

Probably that last one. He doesn't see what the other two might have to do with it.

Jason switches off his comm so he can focus, setting his helmet off to the side before raising his hands placatingly as he approaches Dick much like he would a traumatized child tucked into a dank alleyway in Crime Alley.

“Hey, dickiebird,” Jason starts softly, tapping into his Robin days. Dick's tear-streaked face snaps up at the words, entire body tensing and shaking as he recoils back. He's ready to bolt.

“Easy, I'm just trying to help you out, yeah?” He telegraphs his careful movements as he steps closer. “I need you to try to breathe, Goldie. In four, hold four, out four. You know the drill.”

Dick shakes his head, fingers twitching with the need to– what, reach out? Whatever Dick was seeing, it had nearly made him frozen.

“No, no no no no please not again– leave- leave him alone–” Dick's words come out as a hushed plea, his hands clenching. “J- Jay please- please I- I can't lose you- not again, please not again–”

Again, Jason falters, because what the fuck is he supposed to say to that? His brother is hallucinating his death, and he's just standing there. 

Fuck Jason is bad at this. He should've taken Tim's offer. He should've done a lot of things.

Focus, fuck, okay. What would Dick do in this situation?

Does that question even apply since the situation is about Dick?

“I'm right here, Goldie. Not dead, pinkie promise.” Jason tried for a soft smile, but it probably came out more strained and uncomfortable than he was intending. What can he say, he's not used to doing this without his helmet on.

“No, no, you died and I wasn't there, I wasn't here, I wasn't- I couldn't- I–”

Dick breaks off into hysterical sobbing, curling up impossibly tighter into the little ball he seemed to be so comfortable in. Jason hovers just a few feet away– too close for him to be at all comfortable with this situation (let's be real, within city limits was far too close) and too far to do anything about it.

The fear toxin antidotes he keeps on hand sit heavy in his utility belt. He withdraws one and carefully starts approaching Dick again.

“Listen, you just got tagged with some fear gas, yeah? Nothing you're seeing is real. I'm right here, the family's all here, alive and well–” Well that's an overstatement but besides the point– “–I just need to give you the antidote.”

Dick looks up at that, seeming to finally register Jason's very alive presence before him. He's still hyperventilating, and tears are streaming down his face, but he's somewhat more present.

He thinks.

“But- I- No, you–”

“I'm right here,” Jason assures him. He's only a foot out of reach now.

Unfortunately, it seems Jason was a little optimistic about the whole ‘being present’ thing. 

This is shown when Dick flinches and his attention snaps to something behind him, like he hears something. Or sees it. Most likely watching the beginning of one of the many scenes that plague his nightmares. Jason opens his mouth to speak before Dick beats him to it.

“I can't- I can't watch it again, Jay- not again, please- I can- I can help them–”

“They're already gone, you can't save them, it's just a hallucination,” Jason cuts in softly. Fervently, Dick shakes his head.

“No, no, I can save them this time, they don't have to die, not again, not this time.”

And then Dick is scrambling away, away from Jason, away from safety, directly towards the edge of the roof–

“Dick don't–!”

He's reaching for Dick, lurching forward to stop him, but he's too slow and Dick is too far and he's hit the edge of the roof and he's reaching over like someone is falling and he's not close enough so he keeps going and his heart is racing and the blood is roaring in his ears and he's falling falling falling–

Without a thought Jason is diving over the ledge after his brother, arms outstretched, embracing his brother as he tackles him in mid air. Dick is clawing at Jason's leather-clad arms, trying to get away, but Jason can't help but realize they're still barreling towards the ground and that really doesn't sound like a good time so he tightens his grip and pulls out his grapple and shoots at the nearest point he can rely on for a good anchor spot.

A shriek is wrenched from his throat when the cable suddenly goes taut and both his and Dick's weights are wrenched to a violent and instant stop, practically tearing his shoulder out of the socket with the force.

“Why- why did you stop me- I could've saved- I could've saved them–!” Dick screams, uncaring of who hears them. He's still scrambling frantically in Jason's iron hold, intent on finishing his impromptu flight. Jason has half a mind to let him with every jostle that sends stabs up pain through his shoulder and down his spine. Unfortunately, he happens to like the chirpy, annoying big bird a little too much for that.

“They're not real, they're already dead!” Jason snaps back, only feeling mildly guilty about the flinch he receives for his poor delivery. “Just stop fucking moving, for fucks sake– where's your fucking comm–”

Through Dick's flailing Jason manages to lock his legs around the man's waist, hopefully keeping the man in place before he remembers the inhuman ways he can bend and twist his body in to get out.

Using one hand to get the comm unit out of Dick's ear is a hassle and a half and takes him biting his lip so hard it bleeds to accomplish, but he does manage it. As soon as he puts it in his ear he's nearly deafened by the cacophony of voices he can't even make out.

“Jay please, please let me- let me go, I need to–”

“Dick we are at least six stories off the ground I am not letting you go to chase the ghosts of you past that you can't save anymore!” Jason nearly shouts, rifling around in his belt for another antidote.

“Why the hell are you six stories off the ground?!”

“Is N okay?”

“Sounds like he was tagged.”

“Hood, report.”

The last voice is so painfully Batman it makes Jason flashback to his Robin days.

“Dickwing got fear gassed, jumped off a roof before I could administer the antidote. I caught him, dislocated my shoulder in the process, and can't get us down,” he lists out automatically, grinning when he finally finds the syringe. “Fucking finally. Goldie stop screaming I need to stab you.”

On second thought, that probably wasn't the best way to say that, and that notion is backed up by Dick's renewed efforts to get away from him, but no one ever accused him of being good at emotions.

“Language.”

“Hood, dear god please say that in a better way next time.”

“Nah, I think it was perfect.”

“Is this normal comms for you all?”

“Yes,” Everyone on the comm responds in unison, including Alfred and even Dick through his sobbing, which quiets down once Jason finally gets a dose of the antidote in him. He uses his free hand to support his brother's head, not wanting him to have a fucked neck on top of the wicked hangover their antidote gives.

“I'm almost finished up here, Hood, then I can come swing by,” Stephanie finally says once everyone is done with their laughing. Jason lets out a sharp breath, inhales, holds it, then exhales again.

“Yeah, sounds good, awesome. I'll just be. Yknow. Hangin’ out,” Jason responds flatly. “Not like I have a dislocated shoulder I'm hanging from or anything, nope.”

“You have gone through far worse before,” Damian tuts. Jason rolls his eyes.

“That's not the point, demon brat. Focus on your damn fight. And Spoiler, grab my helmet off the roof whenever you get here.”

“You got it.”