Bloody Reunions

◇□ Chapter Seven □◇

So this is of Jason's experience in rehab. I wanted to write something over it, and it's my book, so I'm doing what I want.

P.S.
There is sexual activity involved, so if you're not in to that, just skip that portion, I'll give you a heads up.

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Jason stared at the glass. Dick had finally fallen asleep, but Jason was sure he would continue to struggle once he woke up again. He sighed, Damian had left on Alfred's orders 'to go to bed'. Jason was given the same, but he was just braver to ignore them. Jason hadn't noticed his reflection staring back at him till this moment. He was in great need of a shower. Blood and dirt still stained his skin. His face swollen, bruised. He looked down, shaking his head, his free hand placed on his forehead. After a moment, he looked back up to his brother. He seemed so peaceful, so innocent, aside from looking just as bad as Jason did. Jason remembered when he woke up in a bed like Dick's. Sure he wasn't restrained, or locked in some cell, no he woke up in a hospital. Surrounded by family. And honestly Jason thought it was worse, he would have much rather woke up as a prisoner, tied up against his own free will.

He remembered one thing, and it was very clear, nothing. He couldn't hear anything. At first, it was always alarming, he often forgot that he was deaf. He had relied on his hearing aids for so long, he forgot what life was like without them. His heart accelerated, he took in a sharp breath, he forced his eyes open in panic. He turned his head to Bruce, who had grabbed ahold of his arm, he seemed to be talking, Jason caught the blurry figure of a nurse behind him. His vision was starting to come into focus as he looked around the room. It was plain, boring really, it wasn't even gifted with a tv. But he thought it was off, he had been in hospital rooms before, this seemed different. He squinted his eyes for a second, his attention going back to the commotion in the room. Bruce stood at the door, talking to the nurse.

Jason took another sweep of the room, his eyes stopping on Tim. He stood at the end of his bed, his arms crossed. He almost looked angry, upset really. His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes a little bloodshot. Jason noticed Damian, sitting in the corner of the room, in a small arm chair. Bruce nudged him, his palm carrying his hearing aids. Jason went to take them but could barely lift his arm two inches off the bed. He was confused, his arm felt like it weighed 100 pounds. He twitched his fingers, which took way to much effort. He gave let out an irritated sigh, as he let his arm fall back to the bed. Bruce's lips fell into a small frown. He leaned over, placing his hearing aids on him. It all came at once. The sound of the machines, traffic outside, nurses and their phones ringing. At first it was a lot to handle, Jason even hissed in pain clenching his eyes shut, his fist grabbing ahold of the sheets. He took a deep breath, trying to focus. After a few seconds, all of the sounds started to blend and balance.

He glanced down at his arm again, trying to lift it, but failed once more. "Wh- why am I- Wh- where am I? What happened?" He asked looking around.

"You're in the hospital, Jason. The psychiatric wing." Bruce answered softly, from the chair beside his bed.

Jason scrunched up his face confused. "What? Why-"

"You tried to kill yourself." Tim stated bluntly.

"Timothy." Bruce snapped in his direction, a hard glare in his eyes. Tim didn't seem that bothered by it, he didn't even acknowledge it. He was too focused on Jason, Tim had a glare of his own.

"What? No- no- I- that- I didn't-" Jason was shaking his head.

"You died. Jason. Flatlined for two minutes." Tim informed him. "And right now, I'm wishing they would have just let you die."