“Don’t go” Jason was gripping at your clothes in a pathetic display of vulnerability.

He knew this was stupid- how couldn’t he? A nightmare? Come on, only children had nightmares, right?

Children and traumatised vigilantes, apparently.

Bad dreams weren’t uncommon for Jason- his only issue was he usually didn’t have a whole panic attack over them.

Usually it was him in the chair, being beaten and tortured by the joker like his life was worthless. To the clown, it was, anyway.

However, this time, in this nightmare, it had been you. Jason had been off to the side, held back as he watched Joker beat and hurt you just as badly as he hurt him.

“You’re alive” he repeated, a mantra at this point. Jason was holding you as close to him as physically possible, almost crushing you in his biceps. Usually, that wasn’t a problem- he did have nice arms— only this time, it wasn’t from a place of pure, innocent, cuteness-aggression love, it was from a place of horror.

“Please stay. I don’t want you to go.”