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Fuck aliens.
Kori excluded.
They were approaching the 24 hour mark of being imprisoned on an alien ship and transported to god knows where.
The worst part is, he hadn’t had a good night's rest in a few days before their kidnapping. This is just icing on the cake.
He knew he shouldn’t have responded to the League’s cry for help. Or at the very least should have kept a further distance between himself and the other bats. Maybe if the attackers hadn’t seen that they all had variations of the same symbol on their chest they wouldn’t have picked them up one by one until they had the complete set.
24 hours in.
24 hours of being trapped in a 10 foot by 10 foot room. The floor, ceiling and walls were a single, solid piece of black metal that refused to budge no matter how many times they had hit it. The door they had walked in as all but disappeared, fusing with the wall when it closed, locking them inside. There was however, a single outpouching shaped like a bubble in one corner with the top of the bubble being flat. There was a hole on the top as well. They didn’t know for sure but they had come to the conclusion it was likely a toilet.
Jason had volunteered to take the first shift. Damian, Tim and Dick sleeping as he and Bruce kept watch.
They were silent. Bruce was staring at the opposite wall as Jason picked at his gloves.
Surely the JL weren’t so incompetent that they didn’t notice one of its founding members and his brood of kids getting whisked away into a space ship. Right?
Jason groaned quietly as to not wake the others as he thunked his head on the wall behind him.
He was seated with his back to one of the corners, the one that was diagonal from the toilet. Bruce was towards his right, the spot on the wall he seemed to be staring at was maybe a foot above the ‘toilet’.
In front of Jason, curled into the fetal position as he faced the group, was Tim. The kid had conked out within 2 minutes of laying down.
Dick was laying with his back to Bruce’s legs, facing Jason. In his sleep he had grabbed Damian, pulling the current Robin to his side as he starfished over most of the floor and some of Bruce’s legs.
He had a bad feeling it was going to be a long flight.
0o0o0
His body was betraying him.
It was nearing 36 hours, a day and a half. And he was losing the fight to stay conscious.
“Dude,” Dick laughed as Jason physically nodded off before the action of his head falling forward woke him up. “Just go to sleep.”
Tim was still curled in a ball towards his feet, completely dead to the world as his brain finally realized there was nothing he could do so he just shut off. Catching up on the likely 100’s of hours he was behind on.
“I’m fine,” Jason spat as he adjusted. He pulled his leg up, bending it as the knee so he could tap his foot on the floor. Not enough to make enough noise to wake Tim or Damian but enough so the movement would keep him awake. Aware.
“Sleep,” Bruce agreed monotonously.
Jason kept tapping. He couldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t want the hovering or motherhenning that would come with it when he woke up. When they found out.
Sure, Bruce technically knew. But that had been a long time ago. The Dr had said he would likely grow out of it. Jokes on them though, he had died at 15. Come back to life, and was still fucked up.
0o0o0
“I know he's stubborn, but damn,” Dick sighed, laughing to himself as he looked over. Jason had finally fallen asleep, his body falling into the corner, slowly sliding down the wall as the minutes ticked on, dragging him down with gravity.
“Was he trying to prove a point or something,” Tim asked as he stretched his arms over his head. He had slightly moved away from Jason. Leaning against the wall opposite of Bruce and Jason after his 10 hour power nap.
“That is an asinine argument,” Damian scoffed at him from his seat in the middle of the room, not even looking at Tim. Which was good, he couldn’t see when Tim mimicked his younger sibling in a way that surely would have started a fight, waking Jason.
“He didn’t say anything,” Dick shrugged as he sat cross legged next to Bruce. “Just didn’t want to sleep…or talk about it.”
Bruce stayed oddly quiet. Likely running calculations as to why his co-workers hadn’t saved them yet.
0o0o0
The boys were lightly chattering about their lives. Catching up as there wasn’t much else to do other than stare at the walls, which is what Bruce was doing.
Jason had tossed and turned a few times in his sleep, pushing him away from the wall slightly.
Tim stretched his legs out carefully, avoiding Jason’s boots. “When we get back, I’m dismantling the Watchtower security system. I refuse to believe none of them noticed.”
“They noticed,” Damian replied coolly. “They are likely tracking the ship as we speak.”
“Comforting,” Dick muttered. “Really makes the whole ‘locked in a metal shoebox hurtling through space’ thing feel better.”
Tim squinted at the wall. “Do you think they’re feeding us?”
“They haven’t yet,” Damian pointed out.
Dick grimaced. “Cool. Starvation. Love that for us.”
“Relax,” Tim said. “Worst case scenario, Jason eats one of us.”
There was a beat of silence.
From the corner, Jason huffed faintly in his sleep but didn’t wake.
“Statistically speaking,” Damian said flatly, “Todd would begin with you.”
“Excuse me?” Tim sat up straighter.
“You are the least valuable.”
Dick snorted. “You absolutely would not taste good, Tim.” Dick giggled to himself, “your diet is caffeine, oreos and spite.”
“I hate you all.”
Bruce did not react, but Dick noticed the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Tim leaned back against the wall again. “Anyway. When we get back, I’m sleeping for like… a week.”
“You?” Dick laughed. “You were unconscious for ten hours.”
“That was a strategic power nap.”
“That was a coma.”
Jason adjusted again, his body likely finding a difficult time getting comfortable as he laid in his armor.
He rolled onto his back. His face directed towards the ceiling.
A croaking gurgle came from his parted lips.
Everyone looked at him.
Tim’s lips parted, silently mouthing the seconds, counting to himself as time passed. Logging the event mentally.
Dicks eyebrows furrowed, knowing the sound was wrong instantly but looking like he just couldn’t place why.
Damian was quiet, staring at his brother's form as if waiting for him to jolt up and try to jump scare them all.
Bruce was hit with Deja vu. The feeling washing over him as he instantly sat up, stepping over Dick.
He knew that sound. Even if he had forgotten about it.
The month of arguing, begging Jason to go through with the test. Assuring him that it was only for one night. One night sleeping outside the Manor so they could hopefully have some answers. But, Jason hadn’t budged, the doctor had. They had done an at home sleep study instead, not as ideal. More variables. But, they still got a diagnosis.
Jason wasn’t breathing.
That’s why he had fought sleep.
He had never grown out of his sleep apnea.
Here, in the cell, they had nothing but the wall to keep him propped up as he slept. Nothing to make sure his airways stayed open if he did roll onto his back.
“Father, I demand–”
“B, is he okay,” Dick cut Damian off as he sat up straighter.
Bruce knelt beside Jason’s legs, putting one hand on the side of Jason’s face as the other slid under his opposite shoulder.
He cradled Jason’s face as he rolled his second son onto his side, hoping the movement wouldn’t wake him up.
It didn’t.
With Bruce’s gloved batman hand between Jason’s face and the floor, his airway opened. No longer being occluded by his jaw. Jason choked out a cough. A reflex. His airway lightly spasming from the occlusion being lifted followed by a sharp inhale.
Bruce knew the steps. He had done this before.
Jason coughed after the breath had filled his lungs again. His body swallowed back his saliva as it fought to cough at the same time, driving an involuntary whimper from his throat as he recovered.
He inhaled. Slow. Controlled. Still asleep.
“Red Hood has sleep apnea,” Batman explained to his awake birds. Quietly, he added, “the doctor who conducted the sleep study had told us children usually grow out of it.”
“But… he didn’t,” Dick summarized.
“But he didn’t,” Bruce affirmed.
They had no way to prop Jason up, keep him in a slightly elevated position to prevent him from choking. He considered just using his legs as a pillow but that much movement would likely wake him. Not to mention it wouldn’t stop him from rolling off Bruce’s legs, putting them back at square one.
Bruce lowered himself. Lying down with his second eldest. There was no easy way to prop his head up. But he could keep Jason from turning onto his back.
He draped his arm across Jason’s back as he hooked his knee with Jason’s, keeping him on his side.
Jason subconsciously must have felt it. He reached out, grabbing a handful of Bruce’s cape as his breathing calmed against his fathers chest.