Work Text:
he huffs out a breath, yup, definitely broke a rib.
even with his eyes open, all he saw was darkness. all he felt was bloody clothes and the metal of his chains.
he wasn’t sure how he got here, but he’s determined to crawl back to you.
mentally he assesses his body. laying on his right side, the only pain he feels presently is his ribs. he isn’t a doctor, but pain usually means something bad so he figures that he could try to walk. otherwise, he feels fatigued, weak and a little fuzzy, meaning he was probably drugged.
the cuffs on his wrists are linked to the floor, with enough slack for jason to stand, his hands stuck at waist level. no more pain than he was already in. good, no need for a hospital. or for you or bruce to worry. he tugs on the chain, to test how tightly it was bolted to the floor.
in his current condition, it wouldn’t budge.
if jason could lift his hands higher than his middle, he would slap his own forehead. ya big oaf, pick the lock.
“oh good, you’re awake.”
he turns to see his presumed kidnapper. “gee. you’re a bright one.”
some goon shoves him back down to the ground. “ay, you can open your mouth when i say you can.”
jason bites back any sounds of pain, noticing the open door behind the kidnapper.
another man walks in, bald and beefy, almost as tall as jason. he grips jason’s chin through the helmet. “hmm, have to cover that ugly mug, right?”
“nah, but maybe you should.” jason smirks, before his head is slammed to the floor again. thankful for the shock absorption of his helmet, he sits back up. “wanna try again?”
baldy snorts, speaking to the first goon. “get his helmet off. let’s see who the batman is working with.”
goon one reaches forward before jason kicks him back.
“what are you hiding?” baldy grunts, barely sparing a glance to his henchman clutching his junk on the ground.
“nothing.”
“not even a secret identity?”
“nah.” jason throws the pin he was using to pick the lock at the captor. “just a bit of advice.” he grabs baldy’s hand, twisting his arm around his back and slamming him against the wall. “don’t leave me with a pin and handcuffs.”
baldy groans. “lemme up.” he tries to grab for his gun, but jason takes it, holds it against his head.
“maybe. tell me where i am.” currently the only thing on jason’s mind is getting home to you. to do that, he needs to know where the hell he is.
“never.”
jason shoves him against the wall again, clicking the safety off. the other goon attempts to rise, but jason kicks his knee in. “best stay down. i turned over a new leaf, i don’t want to kill you.” jason turns back the doofus he has pinned against the wall. “and that goes for you, too. one last chance.”
“go ahead. pull the trigger, softy. you won’t.”
“ugh.” jason sighs and smacks the goon with the butt of his gun. he didn’t feel like cleaning blood out of his clothes, especially blood that wasn’t his and worrying you more. “you fuckers are lucky that i have a higher priority right now.”
jason takes the gun with him, opens the door, heading up the stairs to the right. he stays alert–as much as he can–gun being held with straight arms as he checks for other goons. boxes are strewn all over the place, disguising the place as a warehouse. he doesn’t do well in warehouses.
he moves through what he assumes is the first floor as fast as he can safely. spotting two other goons and shooting them before they got too close. he’s trying to stay clean for his girl and not worry her more, after all. walking out the front door, and immediately knowing where he is.
crime alley.
home, or the first time he ever got to it–before you and before bruce.
no car, no phone, no way out except for his own two feet.
so he runs–closer to a speedy jog–as fast as he can manage with the drugs coming out of his system. a path he has treaded before. it should be nostalgic–and it is–but seeing the place he was before bruce pulled him out and saved him, fills him with a melancholy that he can't quite place. over the hill, he makes a right, and the city is mostly still. a few straggles from bars, stumbling by jason. butter he side steps them, nothing fazes him fully, relentless in his pursuit home to you.
it takes him a good few hours, he’s jogging back home until the sun comes up. he breathes your name, finally seeing your apartment complex, and your car in the parking lot.
***
jason was gone, missing, vanished into thin air.
phone pressed to your ear, you hear a new level of exhausted in bruce’s voice. “we will find him.”
“you won’t if you continue past your limit, b. You’re human too.” you reply, turning the key in the lock, opening the door to your apartment.
“you make a good point.”
“anyways, i’m home now, im gonna take a shower. Is dick taking over for you soon?” the implications that the both of you have been out all night remains unspoken for both of your sakes.
“t-minus five minutes.” bruce confirms as you kick the door shut behind you.
“good. i’ll let you go. talk to you soon.”
“bye.”
you hang up and drop your bag onto the floor, and your phone into it, melting against the door. you swipe your hands down your face, trying not to let tears run down your face. they come anyways, you wipe them away, toeing out of your boots. you strip out of your jacket and t-shirt on the path to the bathroom.
you turn on the water, twisting the knob to the hottest setting. you unhook your bra, flinging it wherever before you squat to get to the cabinet under the sink, pulling out a towel and a washcloth. your ears perk up when you hear the apartment door opening. who else is here? you reach into the top drawer, fingers seeking your gun, silently cursing yourself for not locking up behind you.
you pause, hearing footsteps tread along hardwood floors. you recognize the pattern of jason’s footsteps. your heart catches, you know without a shadow of doubt that it’s your beloved. jaybird, you think, not even bothering to cover your breasts as you exit the bathroom, you turn the corner and—
you see red hood in the hall.
your whole mind freezes, slowly backing towards the bathroom cabinet. fear coursing through your body. your hand on the wall, guiding you around the corner backwards.
“i can explain. i’m so sorry i was gone.” red hood’s voice crackles through a modular. something deep in that voice reads as familiar.
nevertheless, you reach into the drawer and pull out the gun, aiming in one fluid motion. You hold the gun the way jay had taught you to, elbows straight, you aim for the throat. you click the safety off. “why are you here?”
“baby doll.” jay’s pet name for you gives you pause. how does red hood know that jason calls you that? you tilt your head, but don’t lower your guard. “i’m so sorry. let me explain.” his hands slowly reach up and the helmet comes off.
you lower the gun, and exhale. “jaybird. i knew it.” you click the safety on and quickly cross to him.
“hey princess.” he says, letting out a soft oof as your body collides with his. your arms wrap tightly around his neck, he pulls up and tighter, your legs wrap around his middle.
“are you alright? oh my god, jay.” you breathe, taking in his scent, his touch, his voice, trying to convince yourself that he’s home, that he’s safe.
“i’m okay. deep breaths, ma.” One of his hands rises, gripping the back of your neck. “I’m so sorry, it took me so–”
“shut up, i don’t care, jay.” you say, clinging to him tighter. “all that matters now is that you’re home.” you breathe, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. pure relief courses through your body, you choke back a sob, swiping at your nose with the back of your hand.
“oh, babydoll. it’s okay.” jason soothes you, despite his voice cracking, cooing your name and smoothing over your hair. you could feel the exhaustion in his bones, but he holds you, clutches you like a lifeline. he breathes with you a few more times before asking, “how did you know it was me?”
“i know your footsteps.” you say, pulling away just enough to see his face, wiping your tears away. the look on jason’s face softens before he looks down, eyeing your tits. “i recognized you before i even saw you.” your eyes widen. “oh my god, bruce. i need to call him.” you tap jason’s chest and he puts you down, jogging towards the front door and grabbing your phone from your bag.
“you called my dad?”
“yeah, you were missing for five days. of fucking course i called him.” you push your hair back from your face, raising your phone to your ear. “hey bruce. jay’s back. yes, i’m not under the influence. no, it’s not a prank. yes, here he is.” you pass the phone to jason.
jay hesitates, lifting the phone to his ear. “hey, b. no, i’m fine. just some bruised ribs, im fine, really.” he refuses to give over any details. “no, ill call you back. love you too.” he hangs up, handing you back the phone. you toss the phone back in its home in your bag. with a huff, you put the gun down on the entry table, ensuring the front door is locked before turning back to jason.
jason sheds his leather jacket and putting his hands on either side of your head, gaze intent on you. crowding you against the door, you take him in for moment, the faint scent of gunpowder and leather and sweat blend together in a smell that is purely him. he leans down to capture your lips with his as your hands run around his middle, fingertips creeping under the hem of his shirt.
the two of you linger here, fueled with forgotten grief and raw yearning and ecstatic relief. he deepens the kiss, mouth slanting open, like he’s trying to lay claim to you or etch your memory into the fibers of his being. his lips continue down your jaw, his hands sliding down, tangling in your hair.
“you’re sure you’re okay?” you ask again, a soft smile curving on your lips.
“nothing that will kill me, baby doll.” he murmurs against your skin.
“good. let’s get you cleaned up, angel.” you say, giggling as he takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom.