no rest for the wicked [jason todd]

fourteen

// warnings for: swearing //

IT SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SO EASY,

Jason repeated to himself as he knocked the warehouse door down and looked around. Empty. The only thing he could spot now was a white piece of paper taped to a metal-looking door. As he walked up, he peered at the note from under his helmet. 

Gone fishing. 

He swore with every ounce of his being that this was it, he was going to see her again and everything was going to be okay. He pulled the door open, and the only thing in the room was a chair. Blood was splattered along the ground near the chair, dried onto the metal cuffs on the chair. Part of him wondered if she was dead, but the amount of blood wasn't enough to clearly show if she'd bled out or not. She wasn't here.

He heard footsteps a moment later and it was Dick Grayson who ran up and stopped next to him, peering around the room. "Hey," he said after a moment into an earpiece, "think you can come and DNA test a scene? I know forensics at GCPD can, but I don't know how quick that'll happen."

Jason turned, purposely slamming his shoulder against Dick's on his walk out, and the man moved after him quickly. He snatched up Jason's wrist and pulled, forcing the other man to turn back at him. "What?" Jason snapped. "What do you want? This -- this -- is my fault. Everything that happens to her is my fault, so if you're going to be a grade-a shithead and tell me everything is fine, you can go ahead and exit out the nearest door. She isn't going to be okay. This is my fault. Don't lie to yourself."

"It's not," Dick said after a moment of silence, "if this is anyone's fault, it's Jim. Jim Gordon involved her in the case. If anyone's responsible, it's him."

That... That made sense, actually, and Jason felt like he couldn't even breathe. The anger was bubbling in his chest. Even if -- or when, depending on how optimistic he was feeling -- Tye came back, trauma would change her. She was strong, but no one was that strong. No one could come out of torture and be the exact same as they were before.

He paused, stepping around the room to scan for any evidence of where they were going. "Wait, Nightwing," he observed, "this... This is a receipt."

"What?" The other man asked, stepping over to pull it closer to his eyes. He scanned it and then pressed his earpiece, saying, "Look this up for me. Zack's Car Lot. Where's the location? I think we have someone we need to speak to."

"Wait," Barbara said on his earpiece, "did you bring your bike? Did Hood? Someone just reported a vehicle on the side of the road, could be from your car lot. It's definitely used."

Jason was already leaving, and Dick didn't know why. "Wait, Hood!" He shouted, "Where the hell are you going? You don't-- Hood!" His voice raised louder and the man barely even turned around to look toward him. He barely even paused his footing, but he did. Only for a moment, and he didn't even speak.

He only spoke when he'd gotten to the door and opened it. "I'm hacked into your comms, Boy Genius. I'm headed to the car."

"Shit," muttered Dick, pushing a hand through his hair. "Does that mean he heard us earlier? I don't think I need anyone hearing about me asking you to dinner for the third time this week, and you turning me down again because it isn't proper timing."

Barbara hummed. "Let's do dinner once Tye is home safe," she offered, "that's our new agreement, Nutwing."

--

Jason pulled over when he saw the car. The police were already on their way to the scene, so he had to be quick about this. He immediately checked all the seats before he moved for the trunk. If someone was dead in the trunk, and that someone was Tye, he didn't even want to imagine what he would have felt. He opened the trunk though, his heart dropping down to his stomach. "Tye?" He asked.

It was her, all curled up in the trunk, even bloodied and bruised.

He watched her eyes flutter open slightly; she was alive. He immediately reached for her side, skimming it before he moved a hand up to her face. When he pulled back, he realized he'd gotten blood onto her face. Blood, he tried to remember when he'd gotten blood on his hands, but then he looked down. Her shirt was sticky with blood near her abdomen and side. 

"Hold on," he said, "hold on." 

He pressed a button on the side of his helmet. "I know, don't even say anything," he said, "I know I hacked into your stuff and I have no right to ask you for help, but-- She's here and we need an ambulance."

"I'll call," Barbara said quickly, "Get out of there, Hood. The police are almost there. You don't want to get caught near her."

He stepped away, but he knew it was for the best, he knew they'd help her. He was getting onto his bike when he heard her whisper, "Jason? Don't leave me--" She broke into a little sob and it hurt him. He'd never been so sensitive, but seeing her cry, in pain, he felt it ache in his chest. He heard the sirens, so he drove. He drove as quickly as he could, turning before they even rounded the corner to see the car.

"Thanks Barb," Jason said quietly, pulling over again. "Let me know when she's all good in the hospital. I need to see her."

Barbara sighed. "No problem. How do I contact you?"

"Dick's got my number," Jason offered, "ask your boyfriend. You guys can talk about it over dinner."

"God," Dick said, laughing, but he sounded like he was crying too, "told you he heard us."

--

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