[ for a few days, all that occupies his mind is Jason. he looks out for him in the streets of Gotham and searches for all the clues that could indicate what Jason's up to. but as he promised, he doesn't actively dig. Jason clearly wants his space, and Dick is going to keep to his word and stay away from the questioning.
but days later, when his security system alerts him of a presence at his door, he starts to regret it.
he sees the crumpled form in front of his door and rushes to get it immediately. alarm shoots through his system as he pulls Jason inside, flipping him over only to find so much blood pooled on the floor. ]
Jason? Jason!
[ but there's no response, and Jason is going to bleed out on his floor. Dick scrambles across to kitchen to grab the first aid kit and makes fast work of Jason's clothes, pulling away a zipper, a jacket, to find the wounds. bullet wounds. fuck. there's no time to call an ambulance, and they'll do exactly what he's about to do anyway.
the blood makes everything so slick as he rips open packets of cellulose powder to pour onto the wounds, a substance that will stop the bleeding. he shreds Jason's hoodie between his hands and teeth, the pressure he applies by tying the fabric seeming to do absolutely nothing at first. it makes him feel so desperate as he sits there on his knees, Jason's blood soaking into his pants as he presses hard to the wounds.
but eventually, fabric becomes gauze, and the deep wounds stop oozing, and Dick manages to manoeuvre Jason onto the kitchen island so he can start to extract the bullets. ]
[Jason is barely conscious when Dick finds him, pulls him off his stoop and starts to work on him. He's been bleeding his entire journey to the apartment so when Dick cuts away at the fabric, it's saturated with Jason's blood. His eyes flicker half-open when he's muscled onto the kitchen island and groans,] Dick.
[He's not sure he can feel anything but an overwhelming, burning pain in his chest, but he's not in any condition to do anything about it.]
Dick. [He tries again, louder, but he can't find Dick through the haze in his vision.]
[ Jason makes a sound that may have passed for his name, but it's so quiet, so gurgly that Dick barely hears it over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ear. one bullet gets pulled out and dropped into the kitchen sink, his hands bloody and slipping on the forceps.
but Jason says it again and Dick looks up, breathing a sigh of relief as he finds Jason's hand with his and squeezes, leans his face in close to look at Jason. ]
I got you, Jason. [ he breathes, urgency in his voice as he presses a compress to the open wound, quietly counting the seconds in his head. ]
You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. [ he’s here, because he wasn’t here for Jason in the past, because he’s only going to miss those slipping hands once. now, he needs to save Jason. ]
Gonna get this other bullet, okay? It’s gonna hurt.
[Jason hasn't been this afraid since he was dropped off the side of a building. He remembers Dick's arm closed around his, how it slipped through, how Jason fell fifteen stories. There's more blood in his mouth as he tries to focus on Dick.]
Okay. Okay. Yeah.
[He tries to slow his breathing, to hear Dick's words and believe them.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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but days later, when his security system alerts him of a presence at his door, he starts to regret it.
he sees the crumpled form in front of his door and rushes to get it immediately. alarm shoots through his system as he pulls Jason inside, flipping him over only to find so much blood pooled on the floor. ]
Jason? Jason!
[ but there's no response, and Jason is going to bleed out on his floor. Dick scrambles across to kitchen to grab the first aid kit and makes fast work of Jason's clothes, pulling away a zipper, a jacket, to find the wounds. bullet wounds. fuck. there's no time to call an ambulance, and they'll do exactly what he's about to do anyway.
the blood makes everything so slick as he rips open packets of cellulose powder to pour onto the wounds, a substance that will stop the bleeding. he shreds Jason's hoodie between his hands and teeth, the pressure he applies by tying the fabric seeming to do absolutely nothing at first. it makes him feel so desperate as he sits there on his knees, Jason's blood soaking into his pants as he presses hard to the wounds.
but eventually, fabric becomes gauze, and the deep wounds stop oozing, and Dick manages to manoeuvre Jason onto the kitchen island so he can start to extract the bullets. ]
no subject
[He's not sure he can feel anything but an overwhelming, burning pain in his chest, but he's not in any condition to do anything about it.]
Dick. [He tries again, louder, but he can't find Dick through the haze in his vision.]
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but Jason says it again and Dick looks up, breathing a sigh of relief as he finds Jason's hand with his and squeezes, leans his face in close to look at Jason. ]
I'm right here.
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Fuck. [Jason forces himself to focus his wandering gaze on Dick's face. That face that he hates more often than not.] Dick. Help me.
[He knows he stepped too close to the fire.]
I somehow lost this!!!
You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here. [ he’s here, because he wasn’t here for Jason in the past, because he’s only going to miss those slipping hands once. now, he needs to save Jason. ]
Gonna get this other bullet, okay? It’s gonna hurt.
all good!
Okay. Okay. Yeah.
[He tries to slow his breathing, to hear Dick's words and believe them.]