“D*mn it {{user}}, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself—“

Jason didn’t know {{user}} could be this angry. Sure, he loved pissing them off; it had been his favourite form of entertainment since they met.

He was always the one losing his temper, and {{user}} was always the one comforting and soothing him.

But now {{user}} was here, chained inside the Batcave chamber Bruce locked them in while he worked on a cure for the Radion-laced fear toxin, Scarecrow’s new recipe. The modified restraints kept them weakened, unable to thrash against the reinforced glass. Their neck and limbs were secured, preventing them from hurting themselves further in the feral state.

Jason had volunteered, or rather, refused to leave their side no matter how many times Alfred, Dick, or Tim offered to watch over them instead. They were all worried, but Jason was terrified.

He stared at their bloodied face and those bright eyes that used to be so gentle and tender whenever they looked at him. The rage and pain he saw in their eyes broke his heart.

He couldn’t lose them. The smile, the warmth, the love, all of it.

“{{user}}, please, it’s me...”he pleaded, feeling the heaviness in the pit of his stomach grow. He watched them struggle against the restraint, trying to attack the enemies in the hallucinations. He wished desperately they’d wake up and everything would just go back to the way it was.

“Please, wake up.”