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Thinking about having to fight your first love and everything else went downhill after you got hurt by him.
(Was leaning more to AK!Jason because who doesn't like a sad ending?)
Warning(s): brief mention of blood, angst/no happy ending duh, a gunshot?
It wasn't supposed to go like this. You weren't supposed to be here, cradled in his arms as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. Shallow breathing as you tried to stay awake. You have to stay awake. He has to make sure you stay awake.
You, the very same person he has fought by side by side during his Robin days. You the very same person who sneaks off with to have a quiet time underneath the stars of gothem despite the crimes and evil lurking in the city.
God, how he wished he could relieve that night again. When everything was much more simple. Without the heavy burden and trauma he has now. Now there he was, holding you in his arms. He wished he wasn't stopping the blood that he caused.
It should have been someone else. Someone else he would have shot without hesitation, and yet you were the person in his arms. Bleeding out as he tries desperately to stop the bleeding. Your eyes heavy, threatening to not close as you held onto him.
"You know, I never got to tell you how I feel that night..."
He could hear you mutter tiredly. And it was sick, how he instantly knew what you were referring to. The very same night he held you close. It was sickening how you decided now out of other times to say this.
"You shouldn't be talking. You need to stay awake."
He said, trying to keep you alive. But of course, he knew. No amount of words could describe the relationship you two have when you were younger. The secret smiles and stolen touches in between patrols. But God, does he know how you feel about him because he feels the same way.
"I will always love you, Jason."
And there it was, despite his words for you not to speak anymore, fell on deaf ears. Words were stuck in his throat. It was pathetic. How could he ever repeat those same words even though he feels the same way while you were slowly dying in his arms.
Every breath you took was a sharp reminder of what he did. He was the one who shot you. Apologies, they were worthless in this situation. And worse, he could feel you slipping from his arms. Blood stained hands that he caused. He was sorry, sorry he couldn't save you. The very same person he would burn the world for.