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Someone – probably Joker – had put venom in the water supply. Only one district was affected, meaning the toxin wasn’t added at the water plant itself but instead added further down the piping system.
It had been hell.
They had fought for hours, trying to play catch up and knock as many as the citizens out as they could. They didn’t ask for this. Didn’t knowingly take the venom. They had been drugged in their own homes. Even if they were the ones causing havoc, they were still victims in this too.
It had gotten bad fast. Within the first hour B had called in the JL unprompted. That's how you know it's bad, when Batman calls in outsiders without having someone recommend it to him first.
He felt like he had gotten hit by a train.
Grappling home was slow going. Taking breaks as he slowly made the trip back to his safe house. All but collapsing onto the carpet as his energy stores depleted.
Hitting the wall wasn’t a new concept for any of the bats, it was the first time he had done it after a full night's rest though.
Groaning, Jason forced himself up from the floor. Dragging his exhausted body to the bathroom to patch himself up in the LED lights.
He kept the med kit under his sink, everything he could ever need — that he could patch up on his own — was in that kit. Alfred had made sure of it.
As he squatted down, careful to keep weight off his injured ankle, Jason grabbed the med kit from under the sink. Hauling it out and roughly placing it onto the counter before beginning the methodical task of undoing all of the latches. Grabbing the supplies and prepping them to patch himself up.
Taking a step back from the counter he began to strip. Slowly removing his armour piece by piece. Careful not to damage any of the wounds that were still oozing from him as he got down to his boxers.
Then he made the mistake of looking at himself in the mirror.
His helmet had caved in on one side, making it utterly useless. He had quickly removed it in the fight, and simply fought in his domino. That side of his face was now swollen, almost completely closing his eye as the organ was surrounded in a deep bruise.
There was a deep laceration running from midway on his collar bone to his shoulder and a fairly shallow stab wound on his opposite bicep. The rest of his skin that he could see in the mirror was a splattering of bruises and scrapes.
He looked like the sky from a start night painting if it had been done with wounds instead of paint.
He looked like hell.
He shouldn’t have been left alone.
They shouldn’t have let him leave alone. They had seen how badly he was limping, even with him trying to hide it. And the bats had still let him leave, sure Dick had given him a pitying look but no one had tried to stop him.
He couldn’t even remember what their blow out had been. It had been over a week ago and for the life of him he couldn’t remember what had pissed him off so much.
He didn’t want to spent the night alone in his dirty safe house.
Didn’t want to have to force his aching body out of bed tomorrow.
He didn’t want to have to do this by himself anymore.
He wanted his family.
Reaching down to grab his phone from his discarded pants he miscalculated how much weight he could put on his throbbing ankle.
As he collapsed ontop of the clothing he managed to rummage through the pile until he found his phone in the mess. Without giving himself the chance to chicken out, he called Bruce.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hello,” Bruce’s voice said through the speaker. He had recently replaced his burner so Bruce wouldn’t have this number saved yet.
“Hey B,” Jason replied. Trying to keep the relief that washed over him at hearing his fathers out of his voice. “Can you come get me?”
“Are you hurt,” Bruce questioned as ruffling of something could be heard in the background.
“A little,” Jason informed “it’s not that bad though. I just…” He trailed off, not wanting to sound like a petulant child begging for attention. Bruce must have stilled, the other side of the line going quiet as he waited for Jason to explain.
He was sitting on his bathroom floor, reeking of sweat and blood. As he leaned against the wall, gently knocking his head back as he close his eyes he confessed, “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”
“Okay. I’m coming.”