Petrichor [J.T.]

Chapter 11 - Kill Or Be Killed

Sam comes to half an hour later, her eyes peeking open slowly. Her head is in a haze like when a sudden nap happens and she wakes up confused what day it is and how long she's been asleep. Her eyes scan around, spotting Jason sitting on the floor a few feet away from her cleaning one of his gun. He's still in the Red Hood suit with his helmet off to the side and there's a blotch of light red on his jaw, right where Sam's fist connected with his face. And the guilt hits like a freight train. She clears her throat making Jason look up to her and Sam thinks she just saw his face relax.

"What the fuck just happened?" Sam's throat is raw and she can't tell if that's some weird after-effect of the drug or if it's from all the yelling.

Maybe it's both.

Jason looks up to her and his stomach starts to twist into knots. The guilt is dulled but it's that echo that's annoying, like a headache that just won't quit. He's been sitting here the entire time, looking to her to make sure she's okay and wondering what he's supposed to say when she comes to. He wishes he knew but he doesn't.

He can't take back what he said and he can't back them fighting. Drug or not, it never should have happened. None of it. It never should have involved her. But, now it's messier than ever and Jason desperately wants to leave it all in the shadows and creaky floorboards of this room. He doesn't want it on his shoulders or lingering on his skin or his tongue anymore. But, maybe he doesn't want her to know that just yet.

He's high but he always cares about her. And maybe, letting himself be cold about everything will be better. Maybe she'll finally leave. It'd be better for her if she did anyway.

"Exhaustion is a side effect of the comedown. The only way around is to sleep or take more and I wasn't gonna give you mine." Jason states casually, going back to cleaning.

Sam furrows her brows. She keeps coming back to wondering how she missed him taking this. It all seems so obvious and she feels so guilty about it. Maybe she was so wrapped in the sort of fantasy of being happy, with him, that she willfully ignored every warning sign. That isn't entirely true. She knew something was going on, but maybe if she looked harder, went back to her pessimism, she wouldn't have missed it.

"So, you just...let me sleep? After that?" Sam scoffs, trying desperately to figure out which side his logic is landing at the moment.

"Cleaned the cut on your head and made sure you were fine." Jason shrugs, his eyes glancing to her for just a second.

As soon as Jason got Hank done and into a cab back to Wayne Manor, he cleaned the blood and cut off of Sam. He definitely followed it with another hit from an inhaler but he helped her anyway. At the end of the day, at the end of all of this, he just wants her to be safe. Crane might be trying to fill his head with lies and it might be working, but Jason knows in the very center of his chest, she doesn't deserve anything bad to happen to her ever again. They might not be entirely on the same side, but Jason isn't going to just throw her to the side. He won't do it. It's why he pulled his punches and he never pulls his punches.

"What about Hank?" Sam asks softly, her eyes never leaving him.

She's pretty sure he's still high.

Jason pulls out his phone, checking the time. "He has a few hours."

Sam rolls her eyes. Now that she isn't high on the drug, her thoughts are more logical, no longer fueled by anger. She watches Jason and she remembers Hank saying he'd kill Jason if given the chance. It's not that she agrees with Jason killing him, but maybe it's kill or be killed.

"Why Hank? Like what made you do that?" Sam questions, earning a side eye from Jason. He doesn't want her involved in any of this which also means she doesn't get to know the reason. Not from his mouth. "Okay, you're not gonna put a bomb in my chest. Gar is your friend. You don't stand a chance against Kory or Conner. Dawn is Dawn. You like to fuck with Dick. That leaves Hank, right?"