“Please don’t leave me,” Jason whimpers, his hands fumbling with your wound while wracking his head to try and remember something, anything that Bruce taught him about first aid, but your blood on his hands makes him forget everything, and he’s just so, so scared. “You can’t die, you can’t.”

He should be the one dying right now, he’s the one who messed up, but you saved his life, and now you’re dying, and he has no idea what to do.

“God, this is all my fault,” Jason sobs.