Prompt from anon on Tumblr.

Disclaimer: The day I own this is the day pigs can fly.

XxX

Stupid bastard.

Of course it had to be Tim calling to say that Dick was hurt and not Bruce. Someone really needs to pull that stick out of his ass.

Jason growled slightly as he parked the motorcycle in the batcave and he practically threw the helmet off and jumped off the bike.

Without sparing a glance at the others, he jogged to where he was certain Dick would be laying, with a stupid grin on his face saying that he is completely fine.

Though, what he saw was definitely not what he was expecting. The sight was enough to make it seem like his own heart stopped.

Dick was lying on the bed but no medical things were attached to him and there were wounds all over him, sloppily stitched so it wouldn't make a mess. And he was so pale, pale like…corpse.

His breath hitched and he stared at the other's chest, looking for a sign…a sign that never came.

No…

No.

NO!

He jerked and looked to his side with widened eyes. Tim had one hand on his shoulder and was looking at him with annoyingly sad eyes.

"I'm sorry-"

"Fuck you, leave me alone." He growled out in response and smacked away the younger's hand and glared at him, noticing that Tim didn't have his normal poker face up and he looked very sad and almost like a kicked puppy in rain.

He was about to open his mouth to say something but he quickly closed it and stormed off, quickly getting onto his bike and drove off, even forgetting about his helmet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jason couldn't believe it, it had to be some sick joke, it had to be, because there was no fucking way he could be dead.

A big fucking joke, except it wasn't and anyone wasn't laughing.

He needed to know who did it, he wasn't going to feel fine before that bastard is dead and dismembered.

And now it felt like he couldn't breathe, like something was strangling him and his eyes were burning, claws clawing inside him.

Head, heart, everywhere was hurting in a weird way. In a way he has never felt before.

Stumbling up the stairs to his apartment -His and Dick's apartment- felt like walking through slowly drying cement and like he was in a daze, not even there.

He choked on breath once he fell to the floor in his apartment. Fuzzy memories with Dick filled his vision and that was then he finally lost it.

A scream that sounded deaf to his ears erupted from his throat, but no tears managed to fall, none at all.

He have never felt this vulnerable in his life or scared, never.

"Fuck…" He groaned out the curse, throat practically burning, before standing up on shaky and aching legs. How long had he even been on the floor?

Without even thinking in any kind of way, he stumbled to the fridge, pulling out a box of beers and then stumbled to the couch and collapsed on it.

Suddenly the right pocket of his jeans felt heavy, mocking him. He quickly pulled out the offending item, a small black box with a ring inside. The thing he was supposed to give to Dick.

And that's when the tears actually came and he clenched hands angrily before throwing the box at the wall angrily.

He grabbed a beer and opened it and began to chug it down, might as well try and forget it, it will be worse in the morning though.