Chapter 7- Whatever It Takes

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Jason pov-
I have never felt as scared and afraid as I had when I found my little brother locked in his destroyed apartment in his room.

Not since my 3 years with Joker.

But all that fear came clawing back, a million times stronger, as I drove to the nearest hospital as fast as my truck would go, and I had a rapidly dying Tim in my lap. He had fell unconscious a few seconds ago and he wasn't waking up. I put my hand on his throat to feel for a pulse, and I found a faint and weak one.

I was soaked in his blood, and his wrists were bloody and still bleeding from him cutting them. The 17 year old was paler than a ghost, and he looked sick.

He looked dead.

The only thing assuring me that my beloved brother was alive was his pulse, which I kept my hand on as I tore across the city.

Tim was my favorite brother. I loved him more than anything in the Wayne family, and I would do anything for the kid.

Except let him die.

That shit wasn't happening.

Not while I was alive and breathing.

I had called Dick, screaming at him to get over to the hospital as fast as he could, and I heard my baby sister Marinette Drake, Tim's little twin sister and Red Renegade, in the background letting out a scream and several things breaking and crashing.

Joker had caught wind of her suicide and felt bad for Tim, having listening to his screams and howls all night the night she died, and had come to us when the boy went ghost and told us he could bring her back.

I had questioned him, and the madman had told us that he made his goons bring him back every time he died with Dionesium, so all of us agreed to let him use it to bring her back.

Now she's back, but the only thing that's different is that she has a red streak in her hair, and her eyes turn red when she's pissed.

But, our youngest sibling was alive.

I was broke out of my thoughts when I reached the hospital, and when I ran in with my little brother, they immediately took him and rushed him into surgery. My heart was racing, and I was a mess in the waiting room.

When the doctor had come out and told me that Tim was okay, but he needed blood because he didn't match any of the types they had, I immediately offered because him and I had the same blood types, and the doctor led me to where my little brother was.

I started crying at the sight of him, as he looked even worse than when I had found him in his apartment, but I held it back as I ignored the doctor and went over to my beloved brother and laid on his bed with him, pulling him into me and wrapping him up in a hug, resting my hand back on his throat to feel the pulse and make sure his heart was beating, even though the heart monitor was telling me it was, but I wanted to feel it for myself.

The doctor watched us for several moments, then came over with the blood transfusion stuff. I eyed it, but held out my arm and let him stick the needle in my arm. I watched as the blood went straight for an IV like bag that connected to Tim, and I was slightly alarmed at the speed his body was sucking it in, but that was because the kid needed it. The IV itself was being drained almost as fast, and it wasn't long before I felt lightheaded.

I sensed the doctor leave as I passed out, and I faintly felt Tim subconsciously curl into me.

Nothing was ever going to take my family from me again. I'd be damned before I ever let that happen.

Never again was I going to fail to protect my family.

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I woke up with a soft groan, and the first thing I did when I opened my eyes was look for Tim.

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