@bludhavenbirder continued from here
"No, Jay, I just made a stupid mistake," Dick sits up with a grunt. The nausea from the pain of moving and the way his vision blurs clears his mind for a moment. Working with Jason since he had come back had been difficult, to say the least. Dick had spent his life watching the people he loved accomplish daring feats and survive insane situations. Usually, he could keep his fear in check. He trusted them to fight well, analyze the risks. And he knew Jason could do it, but seeing him almost get hit, almost losing him again, was too much for Dick. Logic and reason fell from his mind and he had ran back into the fray. Dick knew he had gotten hit— he had just watched two bullets be dug from his skin and sutures stitched— but it had all happened so fast. Others were still out there, finishing the fight, but Dick was in a medical bay recovering. "Just suffering from delusions of grandeur," He grimaces, moves his head to the side— he'd shake it if he didn't feel so ill. "Thanks for getting me out of there."
Stupid put it lightly, in Jason's opinion. It was fucking idiotic. But he had to tell himself... Dick didn't realize just how stupid it was, what he did. Because it the bullets had hit him right? He'd be gone. If they hit Jason right?
He'd be back up the next day.
"Course I fuckin' got you out of there, dumbass," he grumbled, pacing beside Dick's sick bed, looking like a tiger in a too cramped cage. "What the hell were you thinking... you could've died, I had that bastard, Grayson." You could have died, and that would've been on me. If Bruce lost him again, he was already mourned. If they lost the golden child... the family was already half in shambles half the damn time. They couldn't take that.