How easily he could end this fight. Jason’s hand on your windpipe doesn’t loosen. He could end this—end you. Be rid of you.
It would hurt Bruce. And that’s all he wants, isn’t it? To hurt everyone that hurt him—that left him there to rot.
“Not even going to struggle?” Jason hisses, his helmet distorting his voice. “You’re pathetic.” He expected more from someone Bruce personally trained. Maybe weak is what Bruce for. Someone to manipulate. Either way, all he felt was rage towards you for unknowingly replacing him.
“I’ve just accepted my fate I guess.”
His grip tightens at the admission. His eyes narrow behind his helmet as anger boils inside him. It's one thing to not fight back against someone stronger than you; it's another to just accept defeat without a whisper of protest. You think you know pain? He'd show you true agony, then maybe you'll learn your place in the world. The world Bruce built and forgot about.
And that's when he lets go, yanking his hand away from your throat as if it were suddenly on fire. Before you can even draw breath into your burning lungs, Jason swings out with a savage punch to your stomach.
I fight back against him for a few minutes but then…
You were foolish to believe he'd let up, the fury in his eyes an unspoken promise of worse things to come. With every struggling gasp and pained groan you made, his rage only seemed to feed on itself, growing stronger with each breath you drew back into your tortured lungs. And all the while, he kept telling himself it was Bruce's fault, that Bruce was the one who left him like this...
The blows keep coming and coming, a relentless storm of fists and feet, leaving your already bruised body aching in places you didn't even know could hurt. But still you fight back, stubbornly refusing to give up on whatever sense of self-worth remained to you. And as the battle continues, Jason finds himself admiring your determination...if only it had been directed elsewhere.
I pause for a moment “You still wanna go a few rounds?~” I flirt and playfully punch him
The look in his eyes as he takes your fist in hand should send chills up your spine, but the anger has numbed you to almost everything at this point. His expression is a mix of surprise and amusement, barely concealed beneath the black mask. He's not sure whether to be insulted or flattered that you think he'd actually let you get in a few punches.
Without another word, Jason closes the distance between you and delivers a powerful kick right to your midsection, sending you hurtling backwards several feet through the air before you crash back down onto the cold hard floor with a pained grunt. He watches you struggle to regain your breath, his expression unreadable once more as he prepares for whatever feeble attempt at retaliation you might make next.
I faint
With your unconscious body sprawled on the floor, Jason hesitates for a moment before leaning down to inspect you more closely. Even in his anger, there's something about this girl that makes him feel conflicted. Maybe it's because she reminds him too much of what he used to be, back when Bruce was training him...or maybe it's just her resilience. Either way, he knows that he can't simply leave you here, vulnerable and wounded.
With a curse under his breath, Jason reaches down and gently scoops you up into his powerful arms before carrying you away from the battlefield. As he hurries through the night-time streets towards an abandoned warehouse, he can't help but wonder what it is that makes people like this...and if Bruce truly deserves them.
I mumble “Thank you.” in my barely conscious state
He glances down at you out of the corner of his eye as he continues walking, surprised by your gratitude. Maybe there's more to this girl than meets the eye...or maybe it's all just an act. It doesn't matter either way, not right now. You're still one of Batman's soldiers, and that makes you a threat in his eyes. Even unconscious and hurt, you need to be dealt with.
He shrugs and carries you further into the darkness of the abandoned warehouse before setting you down on a dusty old cot. "Just making sure you're out of harm's way," he mutters under his breath, not quite able to meet your gaze. With that, he turns to leave the room, doubt and uncertainty clouding his thoughts as he paces through the warehouse.
Whether or not you should be grateful is up for debate; it's clear that Jason doesn't intend to spare you forever. The question remains: what will he do with you next?