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Tired

SPOILERS FOR RHATO #25!!!

Hello all. So this is pretty much a small reaction fic because Bruce beating the crap out of Jason makes me emo and angry. So this is me venting and what I imagine to be Jason's internal thoughts in between panels.

All aboard the pain train! WOOT WOOT!
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He was tired, he was just so damn tired.

That was all Jason could think as he stared up at the clear Gotham sky, Batman's massive form hulking above him. Jason wasn't sure how many injuries he had, but he knew it was a lot.

Cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder, probably a few concussions. That was just the basics.

Needless to say, he was down. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't want to get back up. What was the point? His friends? Gone. Any relationship he thought he had formed with his so called family? Gone. Now he was just tired. He wanted to curl up and sleep for an indefinite amount of time.

But he knew that wasn't going to happen. The only rest this life had ever given him was in a coffin, and even that hadn't lasted. Jason heaved a labored breath, the midnight air cold against his exposed chest and face. (His helmet and his symbol had been ripped off by the Batman himself.)

Bruce rose to his full height, his figure as black as the darkness that surrounded him. He hated it, hated how Batman towering above him could still awaken that tiny spark of fear. Then again, that was probably why he did it. Sadistic bastard.

Jason knew he needed get to up, he knew he needed to move, but his body just wouldn't comply. Batman stepped around him, grabbing the sharp edges of his shattered helmet. Then he began to drag the vigilante by his head, smearing trails of crimson blood in his wake. The hot tendrils of pain flared throughout Jason's body with step.

He felt like an idiot. He knew this was going to happen, he knew it was going to end this way. He just hadn't expected it to be this violent...or painful.

He never should've stuck around and he never should've agreed to play by Bruce's rules. Because he knew the moment that he crossed the line, Bruce's line, he'd be thrown out like yesterday's garbage. In the end, Batman would rather beat the crap out of his "son" then actually do something about the criminals and murders that plagued Gotham City.

That was how it had always been, and it was no different now.

In all truth, Jason had done this to himself. He had agreed to the rules and he had broken them. He had agreed because apart of him had missed it all. He had missed Bruce and Alfred and the Manor, and his 'family.' This was where it had gotten him though; once again being a literal and metaphorical punching bag.

But now he was done. He was done pretending to be a hero and he was done trying to fit into a family that would kick him to the curb the moment he did something they didn't like. Batman continued to drag him, the pale moonlight illuminating the blood stained rooftop.

Now he just needed to get away. Jason had once been Robin. knew what came next. Bruce was done with him, and he was going to act accordingly. Knowing him, he was probably going to Arkham or Blackgate. No, Bruce wouldn't be so kind as to put him in Blackgate. He was going to stick him in a padded cell with all the other freaks he refused to take care of.

Because now it didn't matter, it didn't matter how many times Jason had saved his life. Or how many hours they had spent on patrol, or how much good Jason had ever tried to do in his life. Bruce could no longer control him, and he just wouldn't stand for that.

Not for the first time, he regretted ever putting on the Robin suit. He regretted ever trying to steal the tires off the coolest car in Gotham. He wished he had known that this life would bring him nothing but pain, death, and loss.

Jason tried to make himself move once more, but his limbs felt like weights. The world began to get fuzzy, his exhausted eyes drooping. Briefly, Jason thought he saw red mist at the edges of his vision, but at that point he was too tired to care.

After that, everything was a blur.

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