The Same, But Different | Red Hood & Lady Bat
There were just some nights that didn’t go according to plan, and this was one of them. It was supposed to be an easy thing; get in, shoot some people, send a warning, get out–nightly Red Hood business. Instead, the den of drug dealers had brought more people than Jason had gotten word about, because the lowlife scum of Gotham had finally learned to tighten their lips.
He’d run out of ammo halfway through the blowout, a stupid mistake that Jason was currently kicking himself for now that there were several bullets embedded in his guts. Getting out had been a blur, but Jason had somehow managed to force a gun from one of the other guys and take everyone else out. The drugs could wait, he just had to get somewhere, back to his safehouse, even the cave for christ’s sake, before he bled out and died in this shitty alley.
Groaning in agony, with a pale visage and shaking fingers, Jason began to drag himself across the dirty ground. Every inch was blinding pain, but he continued forward with one arm, the other hand pressed to his stomach to try and quell the bleeding.
This was what he got for not bringing the team.