hand-holding in general + Dick and Jason?
Jason is terrified, and honestly, Dick can’t blame him. If Dick were feeling even slightly less sick, he’d probably be just as scared.
As it is, Dick’s less terrified, more miserable. And not the I’m-sick-and-achy-with-the-flu miserable. This is more of a my-body-won’t-respond-and-I’m-in-constant-agony kind of situation. He doesn’t have the energy to be as afraid as Jason is.
When he tries to speak, his lips tremble and his voice cracks and his throat burns. He tries to say, “How much longer?” but he’s not sure if it comes out that way.
Luckily, Jason gets the jist. “Like ten more minutes.”
Weakly, Dick squeezes Jason’s hand. His little brother clings on tighter, his blurry face tightening with a mixture of emotions Dick can’t parse out.
Dick whispers, “‘kay.”
Jason grits his teeth. “Shoulda called an ambulance.”
Dick hums, blinking back—tears, maybe? His eyes are certainly wet, but he doesn’t think hes crying. At least, he doesn’t remember starting to cry.
“Antidote’s with...Bruce,” Dick crackles out.
“I know.”
Jason’s not looking at him, but the grip on Dick’s hand increases tenfold.
Dick swallows. “Jay.”
“What,” Jason snaps. He’s still not looking at him.
Dick blinks against the wetness again. Doesn’t feel like tears. Dick swallows again, chest tightening when he realizes. God, he’s not sure if five minutes is going to be enough.
“Jason,” Dick says again, his heartrate skyrocketing, and yeah. Now he feels the fear start to thrum through him, speeding throughout his body. He goes dizzy with terror.
Jason whips his head towards him, hearing the urgency in Dick’s voice. He freezes, staring at Dick with wide eyes.
“Shit,” he whispers.
And then he’s a flurry of activity Dick can’t keep up with. It starts with Jason letting go of Dick’s hand, and it ends with Dick clutching Jason’s shirt as his little brother dabs at his eyes with a wet washcloth.
The cloth comes back bloody.
Dick doesn’t want to die. Not like this.
“Jason,” Dick croaks, finally feeling tears well up.
“Hang on, Dick,” Jason says, back to gripping his hand like a vice. “Bats is a minute and thirty seconds out. Just hang on.”
And somehow, someway, Dick does.
