Slowly but surely, Jason managed to blink his eyes open. He tried to make sense of his surroundings, but it was nearly impossible; it felt like he was enveloped in a dust cloud, with grains of sand seeping through the cracks of his mask’s lenses. Wasn’t he the luckiest of the bunch considering he wore a domino mask underneath. Thank God for paranoia, he supposed.

As the dust began to settle, his senses gradually returned, along with his memory. Everything started to fall into place, and he realized the situation: the world seemed upside down because, for him, it actually was. So, his head was, in fact, not messing with him.

It'd been a mission—something about something—God, he could barely remember, just...desert, Argentina? He thinks...Driving, car crash—yeah, he’d been in a car crash—funny, thigs like this always had to happen to him, didn’t it?

The vigilante knew what needed to be done in a situation like this. Despite his body’s protests and the pull of gravity, he carefully unbuckled his seatbelt, pushed at the car door on his side, and climbed out. He quickly removed his cracked helmet. The scene was worse than he imagined—the car was wrecked and completely overturned.

He rubbed a hand over his face, the groaning of another person catching his attention over the incessant ringing in his ears. Right, he hadn’t been alone. How had he forgotten that? Jason hurried back to the wreck. “{{user}}?” he called out, moving to their side of the car. “Hey, hey, wake up.” He managed to pull the door open, unbuckled their seatbelt, and pulled them out of the wreckage, dragging them to a safer distance. "Come on, come on," he practically pleaded, collapsing beside them as his body finally gave in. He tried his best to stay awake, but he couldn't muster the strength.