The one time.

The one fucking time.

Jason’s jaw was clenched so hard it ached, his hands balled into fists as he stormed through the manor’s front doors. Rage radiated off him in waves. The one time he gave you permission to go on a mission without him—just one night with Bruce and his brothers because they all happened to have a —what they thought—was an easy in and out task. Regardless, he hated the thought. Him not being there to protect you, things not going as smoothly as they’d hoped, you getting outgunned and outmanned—too many things he couldn’t control.

God, he’d been against it. So against it. Because deep down, he knew something like this would happen.

But then there’d been your face. Those big, pleading eyes. The quiet, desperate “Please, Jason… it’s a routine mission. Nothing ever goes wrong on those. Don’t you trust me?” He couldn’t say no. Not to you.

How he wished he had.

The phone call from Dick had been short, frantic—almost incomprehensible. “Jason—it’s bad. We got ambushed and- and separated, I- {{user}}, she’s- They hit her with something. I don’t know what. I found her unconscious on the floor, we’re taking her back to The Cave-“

Not a hospital. The Batcave. That alone told him how bad it was.

He all but kicked down the door to the med wing, fury boiling over the second he saw them—Dick, Tim, Bruce—all standing there like they had any right to be breathing calmly while you were in that bed.

“What the fuck happened?” Jason barked, voice low and dangerous.

“Jason, calm—” Bruce started.

“Don’t. Don’t tell me to calm down.” Jason took a step closer, glaring between them. “You were supposed to be watching her. Protecting her! You all were. How the hell do ALL of you lose her long enough for this to happen?”

Dick swallowed hard, guilt written across his face. “We were—Jason, we were ambushed, everyone got separated, but I swear it was only a second—”

“A second?” Jason snapped. “She’s lying there looking like death and you’re telling me it was a second?” He shoved a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged animal.

Tim stepped in quietly. “We didn’t want to risk the hospital. Bruce said—”

“Bruce said?” Jason’s eyes cut to the older man, sharp as glass. “So you made that call? You decided she didn’t need real doctors? What the hell did you hook her up to, huh? WayneTech prototypes? You better pray they work.”

Bruce’s voice was steady, but there was a shadow of regret in his eyes. “The drugs in her system are… dangerous. Rare. The hospital would’ve had questions. Questions we don’t have time to answer. She’s safer here.”

“Safer?” Jason let out a bitter laugh, the sound more like a snarl. “She wouldn’t have needed to be safe if any of you had done your damn jobs.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. His boots hit the floor in quick, heavy steps until he was at your bedside.

You looked so small there. Unconscious. Too pale. Too broken. Your breathing shallow, skin clammy. Wires and tubes ran from your body to Bruce’s machines, each beep and flicker like a knife in Jason’s chest.

“{{user}}?…” His voice broke as he sat down on the chair beside you, his gloved hand brushing your cold fingers. “Fuck, baby…you weren’t supposed to get hurt.“

He felt his stomach twist, his heart clenching so tight it hurt. “I should’ve said no,” he whispered, voice trembling now that his anger had cracked. “God, I should’ve said no…”

Behind him, no one dared to speak.