knocked out cold before he even has a chance to retaliate. there's blood pooling under him on the ground from where the crowbar managed to break through skin - this is why he has a goddamn hood. a hood meant to keep his brains from getting bashed out of his skull. what a stupid, stupid move, getting rid of it. jason doesn't know how long it's been since the moment he hit the ground and the moment he manages to open his eyes; it could be minutes or hours, but the ringing in his head hasn't subsided at all. blood drips from the side of his head onto his temple, over the domino mask as he gets his palms down against the ground under him. watches blood drip down into the puddle he's already got beneath him. or tries to watch anyway, but it's hard to concentrate when everything's spinning around him.
he hears the impact of fists against flesh. thinks for a moment it must be him getting his ass beat before realizing that - no, he's managing to sit up just fine, nothing's on him, he can't feel it. his head aches, and trying to get himself up is proving futile when he can't tell which way is up and which way is down. there's blood in his mouth, he can taste it, and when he parts his lips to try and find words it's dripping down to form its own puddle under his head.
fuck.
it's not his first concussion, won't be his last. he needs to get up. )
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knocked out cold before he even has a chance to retaliate. there's blood pooling under him on the ground from where the crowbar managed to break through skin - this is why he has a goddamn hood. a hood meant to keep his brains from getting bashed out of his skull. what a stupid, stupid move, getting rid of it. jason doesn't know how long it's been since the moment he hit the ground and the moment he manages to open his eyes; it could be minutes or hours, but the ringing in his head hasn't subsided at all. blood drips from the side of his head onto his temple, over the domino mask as he gets his palms down against the ground under him. watches blood drip down into the puddle he's already got beneath him. or tries to watch anyway, but it's hard to concentrate when everything's spinning around him.
he hears the impact of fists against flesh. thinks for a moment it must be him getting his ass beat before realizing that - no, he's managing to sit up just fine, nothing's on him, he can't feel it. his head aches, and trying to get himself up is proving futile when he can't tell which way is up and which way is down. there's blood in his mouth, he can taste it, and when he parts his lips to try and find words it's dripping down to form its own puddle under his head.
fuck.
it's not his first concussion, won't be his last. he needs to get up. )