“Can you stop breathing so loudly?” Jason hisses, his voice rough with barely concealed panic.

He’s claustrophobic. Extremely so. And the two of you have been crammed together in this phone booth for the past half hour, waiting for the lackeys that Bruce said would be here.

At this point, it begins to feel more and more like an empty tip, and with each minute that passes, Jason begins to feel his breathing grow shallower. He feels as if the phone box walls are shrinking, crushing him with agonizing slowness.

“We’re not Superman. So why the hell are we stuck in here?” His voice is stringy, the nerves he feels beginning to show on his face. He's thankful for the mask, even if it makes it more difficult to breathe, in the end.