Currently: living in my imagination

freebie

"Hey," Jason said, stroking your jaw. "Breathe, okay. Stay with me. I'm here."

Another bang had you reeling back, practically climbing the metal grating. Your fingers were bleeding and all the tension in your body had him afraid you were going to snap as he cradled you against his chest. "I'm here, okay?"

"Cage."

"It's not a cage, baby girl," he soothed, putting your bleeding hand against his chest. "It's just an elevator. You're with me."

Shallow breaths cut through the silence and made his chest ache in sympathy. You were trying so hard to hold yourself in control. To make yourself small. Locked in a hell that no one could ever understand. What you saw in your nightmares.

"I'm here, baby girl," he murmured, bending down slowly. He knew it wasn't fair. But. He couldn't leave you to just... suffer. To just feel like this. Alone when he was right there. Locked in a cage.

He had to do something. Anything. It was breaking his heart.

He let his lips brush yours tenderly. The barest whisper of a kiss. Only a suggestion. To realize what was happening. It took several moments for your eyes to flicker up to his. For it to penetrate. For you to be able to claw your way out of your inferno just far enough to feel anything else. "Focus on me, baby girl," he pleaded.

"Jason-"

"Don't think," he murmured, trying not to feel embarrassed. He liked you. A lot. And he didn't think about how... well. Weird it would be to have you know that. "Just- just kiss me? It's pretty hard to be scared if you're kissing someone right?"

“Dick nodded, "I'll tell Bruce. I don't think he wants you on Patrol for any particular reason. You're probably just on stand by." With any luck, Dick thought, they'd never put you with Jason. That would be catastrophic. “

Why would it be catastrophic to put her and Jason on patrol together?

Your teeth were clenched so tightly that your jaws were starting to ache. If you tried to speak, you didn't think you'd be able to.

Thankfully, no one expected you to talk much. Not really. Dick, Tim, Jason, Steph, even Babs in her day... they were the talky ones. Quipy, or snarky. Clever.

That wasn't you. Early on, it was decided it was better if you didn't talk much. It was hard to talk and focus on control and investigate. Now though, it was just a habit. Part of the Changeling mystiqueue. You appeared. Things happened no one understood. You left. And sometimes you never said more than a few quiet words to the other bats. Or Gordon.

Tonight though, you didn't talk because you were working with Jason. And working with Jason was... well. He was a whirlwind of constant emotions. There was never a thread. Never an even keel. Up. Down. Around. Rage. Pain. Sadness. Joy. Spite. Anxiety. Rinse and repeat. And it was LOUD. So loud.

The way Bruce was loud when he was on a tear about something. Or Dick was loud when he had to be Batman. But it was CONSTANT. From the second he put the helmet was on.

And now you were in an Elevator. A piece of shit-

The metallic bang and the electric whine made your heart drop to your feet but nothing was as bad as hearing Jason say "Uh-oh"

I'm in a box. Boxes are cages. Oh god.

Panic rises up and you can feel it grip your throat like iron teeth. Vicious and unyielding.

"Y/N," Jason tried, shaking your shoulder, "hey,-" You don't respond. And he can see you starting to rock. Your pupils behind your mask blown wide with terror. "We have a situation," he said into his commlink.

"Report," Bruce grunted from his bed.

"I'm trapped in a broken elevator with Changeling. Something is blocking both exits-"

And if the look in your eyes didn't tell him there was a problem, the in unison "Shit" over the comms would have.

"Try and keep her calm," Bruce said. "Oracle-"

"Already sending people to their location," she reported.

Jason exhaled slowly and looked at you. Rocking and holding yourself in such tight control you looked like you'd break under the slightest pressure. "Hey," he said softly, taking his helmet off so he could look at you properly. Tilting your chin up, making you look at anything but the walls that were holding you in. "You're not by yourself, okay? Help is gonna come. We're gonna go home."

"Home?"

Your voice is so small. It sqeaks. So timid and pathetic. It makes his heart crack.

"Home," he confirms, keeping his tone soft. He didn't know what to do. How to reach you. All he knew was that he had to keep himself calm. And maybe- maybe if he could remind you you weren't alone. Make you feel something else aside from terror... maybe he could get you both out of this without you driving an entire city block into a frenzy.

cozy request ??! if u still do requests

dick and jason sleepy after a patrol

or after a long fight (over alfred’s cookies)

There will never be peace.