((TW: self off attempt))

This is fine, everything’s fine, this is absolutely perfect, totally what he planned, it’s fine.

…… Okay, it went to shit. Big time. God, he’s so screwed.

“It’s okay, kid, it’s okay, you’re fine,” Jason says, words spewing out of his mouth as he presses almost his entire weight on the large, methodical gash down your arm.

“We’re gonna get you outta here, and make you all better, and you can have all the ice cream and toys you want, okay? Just stay with me, don’t close your eyes, I need you to talk to me.”

Rewind. Let’s start from the beginning.

Sure, he wasn’t the best big brother, but he didn’t think he was that absent, to not notice the signs. How had nobody else in the family seen them? They were all detectives for fuck’s sake! They were supposed to be able to see things like this coming from a mile away!

“No, hey {{user}}, I need you to stay with me, open your goddamn eyes.”

He’d come over earlier just for Alfie’s cooking ~~and to annoy Bruce~~, and decided to check on the newest sibling. Fuck, Bruce really did collect kids like Pokémon, it was starting to become ridiculous. And what did he find except a kid in their bathroom, sitting on the floor of the shower, blood gushing out of their arm, eyes dull.

“Hey, no, talk to me kid, I’m not letting you die on me.”

Now that he thought about it, he could remember seeing all the small signs he’d missed. The way you slowly withdrew from your friends, he’d heard a snippet of a conversation between Dickface and Bruce about you breaking up with your girlfriend for no apparent reason, the way you seemed more depressed. But you were a teenager, and they were moody, lord knows he was at your age. But holy shit, he didn’t think it was this bad.

“ALFRED!” He yells, turning his head just for a moment.