Chapter Text
Jason finds himself in quite the predicament as of now. His day has been normal. The usual for a not so dead man who’s also a crime lord.
He got cookies from Jan Jan after he’d had another rough nap. This time the nightmares had been about the bats dying. Jason didn’t even know he could have nightmares like that. He honestly hates it more than the nightmares he’s used to.
These are new and include the people he used to hate. Steph had gotten beaten by the joker, Dick was strung up by his throat, Tim decided being a human shield was a great idea, and Damian? Jason hadn’t managed to stop that fucking assassin. Damian died in Jason’s arms, cold and scared.
Jason hates those nightmares. He hates them the most. His joker fueled nightmares can go suck it. Those are nothing compared to the things he’s been dreaming about lately.
Jan Jan has been showing up at his door more and more often. Even she had gained another worry crease after the fourth night in a row of her visiting him.
Maybe Jason should have canceled his stake out mission because of that. He swears Jan Jan is an omen. A new crease aimed towards you is one of worry and prophetic. He swears by it.
Even the pit has shrunk in on itself at the sight!!
But no, Jason(and the pit, that thing is to blame too!) was too stubborn and decided this was a great idea.
The stakeout wasn’t even supposed to be action packed. It’s a stakeout. It’s supposed to be boring! Oh, but how wrong Jason had been.
After Dick had told him about Ivy’s pollen and he’d asked Amanda for any more information, Jason had started his own investigation.
Ivy had accepted a reluctant alliance with Black Mask who had made a reluctant alliance with Sarecrow. Red Robin had then fucked up one of Masks mini gangs shipment of that pollen. That had led to Tim ending up in Jason’s clutches.
Then Dick had to take over the case as it was top priority. That’s how Dick had ended up getting doused. He’d been one of the “Subject 0’s” as far as Jason could tell.
God, what could have happened to Dick if that concoction was a failure? What would have happened to his brother?
Damian hadn’t actually been related to the pollen case. Well, he wasn’t directly tied to it. The gang of goons who had surrounded him had been off duty but tied to Black Mask and his weird alliances.
That whole ordeal with Damian had been another big reason as to why Dick had taken on the case. The guy had to take care of his own city but came right back to Gotham when his family was threatened. It was…bittersweet, to think about.
Tim, Damian, and Dick had all been injured by this godforsaken case as if and Jason feels as if they all came to him(or had been found by him) on purpose.
And then Steph investigated. She jumped into the case and had also gotten hurt and, just like the other three, had been helped by Jason.
How she got hurt wasn’t anything abnormal either. A shipment coming in from the harbor which had led to a fight at some point.
Jason had to stalk the information out of Steph since the girl refused to write case reports until she’s forced to. She shares the habit with Tim.
Tim does a mass case report session every few days or weeks meanwhile Steph has to be painstakingly get reminded whenever she gets distracted. Which, honestly? Fair. Jason also hated writing case reports.
So, here Jason is, in which curiosity killed the cat.
He decided to take the case on(technically, Bruce is on it but Jason has elected to ignore that) and with the way every other bat had been injured, Jason really should have seen this coming.
Jason isn’t a Robin, though. He’s not a bat either. He’s a crime lord and an undead man with an unredeeming kill count. So, why the fuck would he have thought about this?
Jason had gotten intel that the mass of pollen, drugs, and whatever else these fuckers were using to make this fucked up version of cuddle pollen was going to be in a warehouse.
Why is it always warehouses damnit?! The pit snarls in agreement with him. Even the pit is annoyed by this! That or it just doesn’t enjoy being reminded of Jason’s a little more traumatized thoughts.
He doubts that actually; the pit seems to thrive on those thoughts. Perhaps it’s gotten bored with the thoughts associated with warehouses?
It doesn’t matter though. Jason had gotten to the location at a good time and had a nice vantage point as well. He could already spot six different ways to enter without being caught.
The helmet over his face would protect him from any puffs of pollen and his armor and under armor was thick enough that almost nothing could be injected into him. He had that going for him at least.
Sitting on a nearby roof, Jason looked down below. His gaze locked on a small group of goons who were walking towards the warehouse. Jason shifted so he was crouching and leaned forward slightly. His hands gripped the edge of the rooftop and kept him steady.
Jason had been so stupidly focused on the group below him that he didn’t notice another presence near him until they’d gotten too close. The pit turned around and yelped in surprise. Jason whipped around right as he felt the person kick him right between the shoulder blades.
He managed a strangled “shit!” before he dropped to the ground. He braced for impact too late and felt a disheartening crack in his shoulder. His helmet slammed into the cement ground and Jason hadn’t even been able to say anything more.
Darkness had surrounded him all too quick. What a stupid way to go down.
When Jason had woken up, he found it to be a miracle that his head wasn’t exploded. His helmet had been kept on. Good, it kept all the people in this fucking warehouse alive. Actually, maybe they should have taken his helmet off. It would save him the trouble after all.
The pit groggily shifted and it eyed their surroundings. He was surrounded by three goons and no Black Mask in sight(thankfully).
Jason kept his head lolled and his body lax, feigning sleep. With what little he could see, Jason knew he had at least two guns pointed at him.
He then catalogued whatever injuries he had:
Headache, could be a concussion although he doubts it; he doesn’t feel very dizzy or anything. His left shoulder hurts, it’s definitely dislocated. His ankle is painfully sore, he must’ve twisted it when he’d fallen.
Okay. Nothing too bad. Good.
His chest armor had been taken off but everything else has remained intact. His guns and knives were taken off his body and he can see a box of them in the distant corner.
They haven’t removed Jason’s hidden weapons, though. Either they’re stupid or underestimated him. The pit giggles knowing that the moment Jason gets out it’ll be carnage. Carnage in the name of his pups. Carnage in the name of giddy revenge.
His wrists and ankles were bound by rope and they fit snuggly. He can’t wiggle his way out of them but he could feel one loose knot on his wrist binds.
When Jason was ready and knew he could absolutely handle the situation, he feigned waking up. He shook his head and winced at the pain it brought. He moved slowly, trying to not jostle his shoulder.
“He’s awake,” someone says.
Jason finally sits up fully and tries to look around as subtly as possible. The new angle reveals a few things:
One, He actually has five guns pointed at him. Two, he sees a familiar goon with a bandaged knee. Three, it’s the same goon who had been surrounding Damian a few weeks ago.
The pit snarls at the goon and green tints his vision for a split second until Jason shoves it away.
“Red Hood,” a goon—the leader it looks like—greets, “you were caught snooping red handed. You could’ve simply come down for some tea!”
The goons around the leader snicker and Jason can’t help but roll his eyes.
“Right, cause tea and drugs mix well together, huh?” Jason drawls. His fingers are already working at the knots that tie his wrists together.
There was a hush over the group and the leader scowled, “what do you want, Hood?”
Jason licked his dry lips. He’d managed to untie one of the knots. One down, two to go.
Jason’s genuinely has no idea what he wants. The pit knows but Jason does not. It snarls trying to get Jason to speak but something inside Jason knows that the answer he gives won’t be taken well.
He could guess as to what the pit wants. Could even think about why he’d even decided to investigate his case but admitting to being here for non-selfish reasons wasn’t something Jason was willing to do.
He decides a different approach instead:
“I’m curious, wanted to see if you lot were worth making a deal with,” he shrugs. His shoulder stings as he pulls it but it’s not dreadfully painful yet.
The leaders gaze lingers and his defensive stance shifts into something more inviting and intrigued.
“What could someone like Red Hood need V2. Cuddle Pollen?” He takes a step forward right as Jason unties the second knot. The goon is close enough to sock in the jaw.
Green spills over his vision and Jason allows his anger to flow through his veins. He snaps his uninjured arm at an angle ignoring the pain that blooms in his shoulder as it’s jostled. He swings his fist forward and it connects with the fuckers jaw.
His still tied up ankles leave him unbalanced and he drops forward with a muttered ‘fuck!’ He really should have thought this through some more. Going in guns blazing is probably the stupidest thing he could have done but at this point he and the green don’t really care.
Right as he was about to push himself upwards, he let out a cut scream as his body convulsed with heat. Did they just taze him?
Jason groans and clenches his hands into fists. That…that hurt, like a bitch!
“That’s not how you treat future partners do you, Hood?” The goon crouches in front of Jason and eyes his crumpled form. Then, he shoves at Jason’s dislocated shoulder and ‘tsk’s’ when Jason hisses.
The leader-goon who Jason’s nicknamed Dick-wad stands up from his crouch. Jason moves to follow, the tasers effect finally mostly going away. He’s forever thankful that taser effects only last for about five maybe ten seconds.
His body still twitches but the green wants to kill Dick-wad and Jason can’t deny it that. Not when he agrees with the sentiment.
There’s a boot suddenly shoving him down to the concrete ground again. Jason lets out an ‘oof!’ and turns his head to see behind him. Another goon is looking down at him and pressing his boot down harder and harder until Jason is forced to let out a wheeze.
“You’re off your game,” dick-wad comments, “but that’s okay. It’ll make this a lot more fun for us.”
Jason brows furrow and he strains to look up at the smirking dick-wad. He holds a taser and a gun. The goons around look mildly disturbed but there’s two others(including the one pressing down on him now) who look ready to follow dick-wads words.
“You all can go, I’ve got these two to do the dirty work for you. I know you’re all… squeamish ,” Dick-wad laughs and watches as most goons leave.
Jason scowls and doesn’t let the inch of panic inside him grow. He snuffs it out and replaces it with something more familiar, something angrier.
At least he has a higher chance of winning when it’s 1 versus 3 rather than 1 versus a whole gang. The goon that’s been pressing his boot between his shoulder blades suddenly speaks up.
“We could test the new batch of pollen?” He suggests.
Dick-wad lights up and nods. He points to the third goon and orders them to grab a syringe and the new batch of V2 Pollen. Jason is so behind fucked.
He’s suddenly pulled off the ground and thrown back into the chair he’d been sitting in. He grunts at the impact and is immediately turning to throw another punch.
His left arm is yanked back and Jason’s voice modulator isn’t able to process the yell of pain he lets it. It sounds staticky and warbled.
The pit sits in its cave now and Jason truly wishes the pit was a physical thing. He wants to beat the shit out of it for the way it’s cowering and sitting away. The one time he actually wants to be angry and it decides to leave him hanging?
Maybe the pit really is sick of Jason’s joker memories. Maybe it wants him tortured. The thought of it leaves Jason feeling oddly numb.
That third goon comes around right as Jason’s arms are tied behind him again. He holds a syringe with an odd green liquid inside of it. The green liquid has an orange shimmer to it and Jason is definitely not excited for this.
“Boss is gonna be quite happy about our catch!” The third goon smiles, “‘heard he’s been angry with ‘em ‘bout something from a few weeks ago.”
The other two ignore the third goon and instead snatch the syringe away. Jason almost laughs at the frown on goon number twos face.
Dick-wad walks up to Jason and the second goon grabs Jason’s helmet by the forehead and leans his head back to reveal his neck.
With his chest armor off, the turtle neck beneath it isn’t very good at hiding his neck. Dick-wad easily pulls the turtleneck downwards and Jason fights the second goons impressively strong hold.
The green warbles and tints Jason’s vision green. For once in its stupid life though, it moved too slowly and the syringe was injected into his skin before Jason could do anything about it.
He could feel the liquid seep into his blood stream. He can feel the way the cold starts to encompass his body.
The green tint over his vision falters as the cold ices over his ribs and his chest. He shivers and pulls himself away from Dick-wads hand.
The guy just presses his bare hands against Jason’s naked neck and it causes spikes and searing pain to shoot through his neck. He chokes on his breath and shakes his head violently, struggling to get away.
He kicks his tied feet out and lands a solid kick to the guys knees. Dick-wad yelps with pain and stumbles back. The second goon lets go of Jason’s helmet and he slumps his head forward and hunches his shoulder up to hide his neck as well as possible.
Jason whines when the second goon grabs his helmet again and yanks it back. The position tugs at his neck painfully and the goon just sneered.
Dick-wad gets up again and grabs a blade. The pit fights the cold and the shivers that rack through Jason’s body. It’s distracted and Jason very much wishes for it to take over for once and do its job. But no, it sits there fighting off the cold.
Maybe when Jason’s a little more coherent he’ll be thankful for it. He’s sure his numbing fingers would’ve already been numb had he not and the pit. How the hell had Dick survived two hours of this?
The cold is becoming painful and his limbs are growing numb and slow. He bares his teeth and curses Ivy and her plants mentally.
The blade is placed nowhere near him, not when just simply touching Jason leaves him crumbling.
Instead, it’s used as a warning. It hovers just above Jason’s dislocated shoulder threateningly.
He chokes on his breath and keeps trying to shove himself backwards and away from the contact. The cold washes over him again and his vision begins to go spotty with the lack of oxygen.
The blade is suddenly placed onto his shoulder and the pressure is behind painful. It’s as if he’d shoved hypothermic fingers into a blazing fire. It’s like fire ants chewing through his bones.
The pit panics, rattling Jason’s already numb ribs which only causes more pain. He feels the pit pause, its eyes shifting abruptly.
Jason’s too busy trying to breathe. He’s starting to fade from his thoughts, darkness around his vision when all of a sudden there’s such a violent spark of warmth that Jason can’t help but thrash towards it. He lurches straight into the blade which nicks his skin and causes more of that blazing pain to shoot through his arm.
The heat yanks on him and the pit tries to wrap itself around the warmth and ground it. Its claws are flimsy against the burst of warmth and Jason just barely registers the blur of purple that kicks dick-wad away from Jason. There’s another blur of red—two blurs actually—that are handling the second and third goon.
Jason lets out a sound of relief when the cold stops choking him. His sound of relief is replaced by pain as he feels a new, blazing touch on his neck. Freezing cold does not mix well with blazing hot. The heat pulls back and Jason’s grateful for it.
Even so, he still chokes, lurching forward and hiding his neck. As the black spots dance out of his vision, Jason spots a blur of black and blue.
Something in his chest swells and the pit sits there watching too. He gets it now. That warmth.
He recalls Amanda’s words, recalls the way Dick had reacted once the warmth finally reached him. He gets it now and he knows who’s here.
Jason sighs and finally lets the blackness take over, this time, willingly.
When Jason wakes up, he feels beyond warm. There’s a weight over his legs, there’s a weight on the right side of him, and he can feel fingers running through the locks of his hair.
Although, within that warmth, he also feels his shoulder ache. His neck is sore and his memories are foggy.
The pit sits in his chest warbling out worries that Jason doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand until the memories return in a flash.
Immediately he shot upright, flailing and trying to strike at the enemies around him. He hears a curse and his hair is painfully tugged during the process of him sitting up.
He looks around, neck aching with the sudden movement and chest heaving. He’s…confused. The pit makes an annoyed sound and it almost feels as if it had been lounging on Jason too. It’s annoyed. And lounging. And trying to make Jason sit back down but why? There are enemies! There are—
He stares at Damian who had fallen to the floor and now stood on guard. Sleep echoes off of him and his bed head hair is a dead give away: the boy had been sleeping and had been knocked off the bed when Jason had flailed.
He stares at Steph who’d rolled onto Tim and is now elbowing him trying to fix her position. He stares at Tim who’s groaning with pain and punching Steph’s shoulder with annoyance.
The he turns his head and stares at Dick. His hand settles on top of Jason’s head again and his fingers gently scratch his scalp.
The pit purrs and Jason leans into the touch, his wide eyes going half-lidded.
“Todd, you’re awake,” Damian states as he climbs back onto the bed. He sits away from anyone, not touching them.
Jason feels a pinch of cold that sends shivers down his spine, “m’cold,” he states.
Damian is immediately shifting forward and the moment his knee makes contact with Jason’s calf, the warmth is back.
Jason sighs with content and leans back into Dicks embrace. Steph rolls onto Jason’s chest again and Tim finally settles now that Steph isn’t elbowing him.
A few moments later, Tim yanks Damian down and forces the kid to lay down onto Jason’s legs.
Jason burrows into Dicks shoulder and wraps his arms around Dicks waist. Dicks fingers move from Jason’s scalp to his nape, his blunt nails scratch into his skin and Jason suddenly feels like purring. The pit settles in his chest, content and satisfied as a deep purr rumbles from it. Jason could almost feel the way the pit purrs.
He closes his eyes and pushes his face further into Dicks warm embrace. As the pits rumbling begins to shake Jason’s chest, he just barely registers the whisper of someone near him:
“Holy shit is Jason purring?”
He can purr?