Only the Dead and Dying

"...anyway, be a good boy, finish your homework, and be in bed by nine. And hey! Please tell the big man I said hello."

The door fell shut with a loud bang. It echoed off the walls of the warehouse, hardly dimmed by the boxes stacked all around the area. Nothing inside the large complex stirred, which wasn't too much of a surprise. Most of the objects were simply pieces of junk being stored inside the walls. None of that made a difference to the echoing sounds; they faded slowly, dying off in due time. And with the quiet settled firmly in place, Jason Todd's green-blue eyes opened for the first time in an immeasurable amount of time.

The ebony-haired teen wasted no time. He rolled onto his back, ignoring the pain shooting up and down through his limbs and torso. After mustering up strength he hadn't known he had, Jason kicked him shattered legs up and over his head, an obvious moan resounding from his busted lips. The vertebra in his back popped and groaned under the treatment, but it hardly made a blimp on Jason's radar. There were other, graver wounds that were aching and sending sharp, stabbing pains through his limbs that were far more consuming than the simplest of protests from his bones.

From his crouched position on the ground, Jason carefully stepped over the handcuffs clasped tightly over his wrists. Quickly following that, the teen pushed himself up and off the ground, coming to a stand. Jason's shoulders slouched, his chest heaving from the small exertion he'd put himself through. The teen wavered in his stance; falling forward, catching himself, falling forward. However, the teen managed to keep himself standing and on his feet, which was a feat in itself. The boy's green and yellow cape wrapped around his battered frame, providing a sense of safety and comfort. The feeling had all but abandoned the boy when the Joker had captured him; the suit had done nothing for him at the time. Now, Jason felt the smallest bit stronger. With that in mind, the teen took a shaky step forward.

Unfortunately, Jason's legs gave out under him, and he met the ground with dull thud.

Stabbing pain ran through his body again as a quiet but strangled cry left the boy's mouth. That wasn't the worst of it, though; despair swept over Jason in a tidal wave, crushing his chest far worse than any hit Joker had made with the crowbar. For a single, split second, Jason hardly even breathed. His one good eye misted over for a mere moment, but then the stubborn, hard-headed protege of the Dark-Knight threw all those feelings away, discarding them for a time when he wasn't so caught up in escaping.

Determination flushed out his overwhelming desperation, and Jason pushed himself onto his elbows. Rough panting fell between his lips in a desperate attempt to get air into the boy's lungs, but only trace amounts ever seemed to make it into his windpipe. Jason chose to ignore it as he pushed his arms forward, pulling the rest of his body with them. And then he repeated the action again. And again and again and again.

Slowly but surely, Jason dragged himself from the middle of the massive warehouse to the door the Joker had left through. His efforts came with a cost, however; the only thing Jason felt as he crawled was the everlasting pain and misery he felt as he tried his damn hardest to reach the other side of the room. The sweat dripping down his face, the cold, tiled floor beneath him, and the chaffing handcuffs were drowned out by the agony Jason put himself through to get out, escape, find help. Even his throat, which seared from his never-ending wheezing, was nothing more than an afterthought to his broken bones, bleeding gashes, and the other internal issues plaguing him.

A long streak of crimson followed the teen across the floor, which led back to the pool of thick, sticky blood Jason had bled upon the floor as he played possum for the Joker. The teen didn't even notice the trail as he finally reached the door after what felt like centuries of crawling like a pathetic child. Gasping faintly, Jason pushed himself up, reaching high above his head for the doorknob. His fingers found the cool metal, and they wrapped around it weakly. The ebony-haired boy tugged and tugged, but the door refused to open. On the other side, the sound of jingling metal barely managed to reach Jason's ears.