Original Author's Note

not completely happy with this one. so much happens at the end of Forever Evil—I'm barely working with a third of it and it still feels like way too much plot—but at least it's finished. and I feel like it ends on a good note.

Prompts

knees buckling | repeatedly passing out | head lolling

Chapter 19: enough is enough

“It’s not too late, you idiot!” 

Luthor almost dies right then and there. 

“If you kill me, you’ll kill him.” 

Kory aims a bolt of energy straight at his head. He dodges straight into Batman’s fist. Jason kicks him down and puts a gun to his head with every intention of pulling the trigger. 

“You’ll lose any chance of getting him back.” 

But he waits a second too long. A sudden burst of electricity from Luthor’s armor knocks him flat on his back. His brain is still spitting sparks when Roy hauls him up, and then Batman is between him and Luthor, and then Luthor is spouting some bullshit about slipping Dick a cardioplegia pill. 

“A what?” Catwoman says. 

“A drug that paralyzes the cardiac muscles surrounding the heart,” Bruce says. 

“And if his heart doesn’t get a shot of adrenaline right this very second,” Luthor says, “he’s going to stay dead.”

Jason doesn’t buy any of that. Not for a second. Luthor is a lying snake who thought he could kill Dick and get away with it. He thought none of them would care, too concerned with saving their own skins. He was wrong, and now he’s backpedaling, trying to paint himself as the hero. 

Batman might let him get away with it. Jason doesn’t intend to. Judging by the smoldering fury in Kory’s eyes, she won’t either. 

But in this moment it doesn’t matter, because Luthor jams a needle into Dick’s chest, and Dick jerks with a sudden breath. 

“Dick,” Bruce breathes. He tears away the restraints—now that the bomb is disarmed they go easily—and catches Dick as he falls from the machine. Dick buries his face in Bruce’s shoulder and clings to him, shaking. 

Dick’s shoulders are swollen. 

That’s what Jason sees. Red, inflamed skin—dislocated joints that haven’t been properly treated. Dark bruises circling Dick’s wrists, blood matted in his hair. And Dick is naked—Jason gets a split-second look at the bruises on his legs before Bruce sweeps his cape around both of them, shielding Dick from view. Dick’s head lolls against Bruce’s shoulder. 

No one is going to touch him, Jason thinks, with the kind of wordless rage that he hadn’t missed until he felt it again. No one, ever again. 

Then the cell door flies open and Cyborg steps through like an avenging angel. Then everyone is moving. Kory hugs Cyborg, Catwoman snarks at him, Luthor snaps at his lab-grown superman, and Dick lifts his head from Batman’s shoulder to ask a trembling question. 

“What happened to the League?” 

“They’re trapped,” Cyborg says, “in the Firestorm matrix. The Syndicate has him on the sublevel.” 

“Oh,” Dick says, and then Batman holds him a little closer. The movement is subtle, but it’s there. 

“We’ll handle it,” Batman says. He follows Cyborg through the doorway, hauling Dick along with him. 

“I’m going with you,” Jason says. Batman turns to glare at him. Jason meets his gaze with a masked stare of his own. Two can play that game. 

“Yes,” Luthor says, “you go rescue your friends who caused this mess, while we do the heavy lifting and take on the Syndicate.” 

“I’m glad we agree, Luthor,” Batman says, without a single backwards glance. 

Jason looks back. He finds Kory’s eyes and makes a hidden gesture at Luthor. Stay with him. Watch him. 

Kory’s fist glows green in silent agreement. 

Dick passes out halfway up the stairs. 

He’s limping along at Bruce’s side, with Bruce’s arm around his shoulders, when he stops. He stands still for a second, takes a raspy breath, and then his knees buckle. He pitches backward. 

Jason lunges forward, but Bruce is closer and quicker. He scoops Dick up close to his chest, covering him with his cape, and forges ahead, carrying him. 

“What happened to you, Vic?” Bruce says, like nothing is wrong. 

“My father rebuilt me,” Cyborg says. “I lured Grid out of the Watchtower—” And he keeps talking, explaining how he killed the Syndicate's cyborg and found Steve Trevor, but Jason stops listening. All he cares about is Dick, cradled in Batman’s arms—Dick, unconscious, being dragged along like a ragdoll. 

He needs to rest. He doesn’t need to be dragged along on some harebrained mission to save the Justice League. Jason is here, and Jason happens not to give a shit about the Justice League, so he can take Dick and get him somewhere safe, somewhere he can recover—

He has his mouth open to say so when Dick wakes up.

“Wait,” Dick gasps. He goes rigid in Bruce’s grasp. He doesn’t try to get away. He just freezes. “Wait—please—”

“It’s alright, Dick, I’m here,” Bruce says, but he doesn’t stop moving, and Dick can’t keep up—his legs give out, his bare feet drag against the ground, and that’s the last straw. 

“Give him to me,” Jason snaps. Dick’s head whips around. 

“No, wait, please,” he begs, but he stops when he sees Jason. His eyes are wide and scared. 

“It’s okay,” Jason says, trying to make his voice a little softer. “It’s just me.” 

“We don’t have much time,” Cyborg says. Jason bares his teeth behind his helmet. 

“So give him to me,” he says, “And you guys can go ahead—”

“No,” Bruce says. Like it’s his fucking decision. 

“Batman,” Cyborg says. “Trevor’s not here. And you’ve worked with Diana for years.” He holds out the Lasso of Truth. 

Dick flinches away from it. 

“Batman,” Jason snaps. Dick flinches again. His eyes dart between Jason and Bruce. He’s unsteady on his feet, and Jason wonders if he’s delirious. If he’s concussed. If being dead for a minute and a half did something to his brain. Does he even know what’s going on?

“Fine,” Batman growls. 

That’s all Jason needs. He steps up and puts his own arm around Dick’s ribs, boosting him up, pulling him away from Bruce. Dick flinches away from him, stumbles, but manages to keep his footing. He’s trying to keep it, trying to stay upright—Jason can tell. That’s why he holds Dick at his side, instead of sweeping him off his feet into a bridal carry. 

“Let’s go,” Batman says. Dick flinches again. Jason bares his teeth. 

Before they reach Firestorm, Dick passes out again. Jason does pick him up then. When Dick wakes up a couple minutes later, he goes still and rigid in Jason’s arms. His breath hitches. He doesn’t open his eyes.

Jason stops and sets him down, carefully, carefully, so he doesn’t fall. Dick opens his eyes then. 

“Jason,” he whispers. 

“Uh-huh,” Jason says.

“You’re alive.”

Jason blinks. “Yeah,” he says. “So are you.” 

Dick turns to hide his face in Jason’s jacket. Jason puts an arm around his shoulders. 

Firestorm looks like he’s about to explode. Jason’s immediate instinct is to cut and run, to get himself and Dick the hell off the Watchtower—only he’s pretty sure something even worse is going on outside. They haven’t heard anything from the others, Captain Cold and Black Manta and the rest, since they split up. He hasn’t heard from Kory or Roy either. 

“Give me the lasso,” Bruce says. “I can connect with Diana. We’ve known each other—a long time.” 

“Is that why?” Catwoman says. 

Jason rolls his eyes. Of all the times to get jealous—

“Did you hear that?” Dick lifts his head. He makes an effort to stand up straight, away from Jason. He looks into the dark of the engine room. “Someone’s coming.” 

“Yes, Dick,” a voice growls, and Owlman lunges out of the shadows. 

A lot of things happen at once. 

Dick stumbles back. Away from Jason, away from all of them. Owlman lunges after him. Dick grabs onto Owlman’s head and swings it into his knee. Owlman grabs Dick under his arms. 

Something between a scream and a sob catches in Dick’s throat. 

“I’m not giving up on you, Dick,” Owlman says, and no one is moving—no one is helping—

Except Jason. 

“My Gotham is gone,” Owlman says. “My Alfred is dead. You’re all I have left. I came to tell you—”

Jason pulls the trigger. 

The bullet shatters Owlman’s jaw. Teeth and viscera spray through the air. The body collapses. Dick stumbles back, panting. Owlman lies still. 

Jason shoots him again. Just in case. 

Dick flinches at the noise. He stares down at the body, his chest heaving, his hands curled into fists. Jason steps toward him. He doesn’t react. 

“Dick,” Jason says. No reaction. For the first time, Jason sees his back. He has half-healed cuts all across his back. He has purple-black bruises on his thighs.

The bullet was too kind. 

Jason moves around so Dick can see him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Dick doesn’t flinch. He looks up. He looks at Jason, and suddenly Jason wishes he wasn’t wearing the helmet. He wishes Dick could see his eyes. 

“He’s gone,” Jason says. “He can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Dick stares. Then his eyes roll back in his head, and he collapses.