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In retrospect, he should have stopped somewhere as soon as he got into the city and lost his pursuers, but in his defense, he wasn’t firing on all cylinders. He was fuzzy and exhausted, not to mention his lack of cash. And though he wasn’t above stealing food, he wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in his current ragged state.
He stumbled into the safehouse that had been closest to where he’d entered the city, and collapsed onto the floor by the door, leaning back against the wall. There was no furniture in the main room, and the bedroom was too far for him to make it. He’d been running on pure adrenaline up until the second he’d all but fallen through the door and it was quickly fading.
He was starting to drift off when he shook himself awake. He couldn’t sleep now, he needed to get some food in his stomach first. As exhausted and sleep deprived as he was, once he was out he was going to be out, and he figured bears had the right idea, eating before hibernating. He couldn’t go any longer without food. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. Or slept.
So he tried. He really did—it was a good effort, but he couldn’t get off the floor. He just couldn’t. He was utterly spent. His head was spinning and his muscles were jelly—a seven year old could come in and beat him up for his lunch money (if he had any) right now and he wouldn’t be able to stop them.
The most he could do was slide down the wall and curl into a ball. He closed his eyes and he was out before his next breath.
——
It was a testament to how out of it he was that he didn’t wake with a jolt when he felt a foot nudging him awake. Normally he would immediately be on high alert, ready to fight—he’d have been dead (again) long ago if that reflex hadn’t been ingrained in him—but he was so lethargic that it took him a couple of tries to open his eyes. His eyelids were stuck shut and he had to reach up and rub at them to get them unglued. They were so dry it burned when he rolled them around to identify the source of the kicking. He blinked blearily up at the figure above him and it took his brain several seconds to boot up in order for him to recognize the person jabbing their foot into his side. He really was lucky his sluggishness hadn’t just gotten him stabbed.
“D’mian?” He slurred. “Wha…?”
“Todd,” Damian sneered down at him. “I could have stabbed you just now and you would not have even known.”
Jason tried to push himself up, but failed miserably and resigned to just flopping over onto his back.
“Y’still can if you want. Not gonna argue ‘bout it.”
Damian sighed. “What is wrong with you?”
Jason closed his eyes and huffed. “Tired. Hungry.” He cracked an eye open again. “How’d you know I was here?”
“When we realized you were missing rather than just galivanting around the world with your idiot friends, father equipped your safe houses with sensors in case you were to return to one of them. I was nearest to this one when the sensor was tripped.” Damian prodded him with his foot again, just for good measure. “It has been over a month. Where have you been?”
Jason moaned. “Done talking now. Sleeping.”
Damian prodded him harder. Jason tried to smack his foot away, but barely managed more than flopping his hand against Damian’s ankle. He thought about throwing up on him, but he didn’t have anything in his stomach to do that. Not that that stopped the cramps and the nausea, anyway.
“Todd. Are you injured?”
Jason tried to remember. Everything hurt, so he thought maybe he was. Then again, everything had been hurting for a while now, he wasn’t in the best shape. After some mental probing, he found that his ribs were killing him and his left wrist twinged when he tried to move it.
“Nothing serious. M’fine.”
“Tt. I will be the judge of that.”
Damian poked around and Jason’s pained hissing led him to the problem spots right away. “The bruising on your torso is extensive. You should have Pennyworth look at it right away, it could be serious. The wrist should also be set. You need to come to the Cave.”
“Kid, I can’t even make it across the room.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“They fed me some the first few weeks, but then I guess they got tired of it.”
“I take it you were captured, then. We had assumed as much.”
Jason hummed. “Pissed off some Russians a few years back. Might’ve stolen some important shit from them. Thought they could get me to tell them where I put it.”
“Where did you put it?”
Jason laughed weakly. “Sold it almost immediately.”
“My bewilderment at your continued survival increases by the day.”
“Mine too.” Even as he spoke, Jason was drifting off again. He felt like a newborn infant, barely able to stay awake for long.
“Todd.”
Jason jerked awake, then groaned when he got his bearings again. “Can we do this later?”
“You need medical attention. And sustenance. And debriefing.”
Jason grunted. Damian sighed when he realized that was the only response he would be getting. Jason’s eyes were closed so he didn’t see where Damian went when his footsteps receded. All he cared about was that no Damian meant no annoying foot poking, which meant sleep.
He had sunk into a partially-aware doze when a scent hit his nose and made his stomach cramp painfully and his mouth salivate. He curled into himself even further, clutching at his aching stomach. Damian’s footsteps reapproached and the smell got stronger. There was the clunk of something being set down on the floor and he could hear Damian crouch next to him.
“There was canned soup in your kitchen. I have heated it, and you need to drink it. I will help you sit up.”
Jason groaned at the idea of moving, but he let Damian pull him up and lean him back against the wall. He was much less help than he should have been. Damian pressed a thermos into his shaking hands and he took it. He brought it to his mouth unsteadily and almost spilled it on himself before Damian reached over and stabilized it with a hand over Jason’s.
“It’s like taking care of a child.”
Jason didn’t care—Damian could say anything he wanted right now, he’d brought Jason food. He’d never tasted anything better than off brand canned chicken noodle soup in his life. It slid down his throat and he could feel the heat settle into his shriveled stomach.
He could only take a few sips before he started to lose the energy to hold the thermos, even with Damian’s help. His gut was starting to churn with nausea, which told him it was time to stop.
“You will need to start small,” Damian explained. “Several small meals a day until you can handle larger meals.”
“I know how it works, thank you mother,” Jason mumbled.
“Tt. It is always safest to expect you know nothing, Todd.”
“I was going to thank you for the soup, but I kind of want to punch you instead.”
“You could not land a hit on me even if you were not as weak as a kitten."
Jason was fading too fast to think of a retort.
——
The voices were hushed, but he could just barely make out the words.
“—ake him back to the Cave, preferably without waking him up. He needs the rest.”
“I’ll call Tim, he can help me carry him.”
“Tt, I can—”
“No offense, little D—I know you’re strong enough, but the height difference will make it difficult.”
“Drake—”
“Damian, now isn’t the time to argue, okay? Jason needs help, and we aren’t going to fight about who gets to help him. We’re waiting on Tim and we’ll all help. Besides, you’ve been the best help so far, taking care of him and calling us.”
Damian scoffed. “I do not need your praise, Richard.” He didn’t sound too upset about it.
Dick crouched down next to Jason and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Little Wing. I wish we could have found you.”
Jason shivered under Dick’s soft touch so Dick kept petting him. “You awake, Jay?”
Jason groaned quietly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“S’okay,” he mumbled.
“Tim’s on his way to help me get you to the Cave. We’re going to take care of you.”
“Don’t need babysitting.”
“Medical attention is not babysitting, little brother.”
Jason hummed skeptically. And Dick gave a quiet laugh.
“Go back to sleep, Jay. We’ve got you.”
Jason didn’t remember falling back asleep, and he didn’t remember Dick and Tim loading him into a car and taking him back to the Cave. When he awoke, he was in a guest room in the Manor on an IV drip. Damian was asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. Jason rolled over and went back to sleep—he wasn’t worried about getting stabbed this time.