For Day 6 of Halloween Content War. This is actually my second story for this prompt. The first one is better linked with the others of Days 1-5 but I'm still finishing them.

Happy Halloween peeps! Even though this is late…like always.

Jason felt hands pushing him down and tried to fight it.

Tried to get away.

Why? Why? Why? Why won't they let him?

He struggled harder. Choked on his tears.

He wasn't dead. He wasn't!

Air. There was no air. No air.

Stop!

Please!

Bruce!

Dad!

Bruce held onto Jason. Even as his son held onto him. He was careful still as Jason's hands had taken a beating when he tried to claw at anything and everything when he'd tried to get away from them earlier.

When he'd tried to pull himself up when they'd pushed him down so he wouldn't hurt his broken leg.

But none of that mattered when he'd started screaming at them. Calling out for Bruce. And pleading to let him out. To get him out.

Knocking him out was the only thing they could do. And he watched as Damian's look of anger and fear made him look so much his young age. His paleness a reminder of before. His small hands shaking as they held tightly onto the syringe.

And now. Hours later. Full of worry. Full of regret and pain. Bruce held his son. Awakened from his own screaming as he held tightly onto his father.

"You weren't there. You weren't there." Jason kept repeating. Sobbing and gasping out his words.

Bruce apologized. And apologized some more. He continued saying sorry. He knew it would never be enough.

He knew now. As did Alfred. As did Dick. And probably the rest of the family would understand.

Jason had been desperation itself in his fear. Tears flowing freely. The desperate calls. And then sounds like he was choking. Hands hooked into claws as if to tear out the walls of his fear.

But it wasn't a wall.

It was the wood of his coffin. The earth that kept him down. That choked him.

Oh god.

It answered everything now. Why Ra's still insisted the pits can't bring the dead back to life. Why Talia looked on in pity when she talked of Jason.

Why Jason had hated him so. Why Jason should still hate him so.

He'd buried his son and left him. He'd been alone when it happened. Always alone. Always.

That it was only because Jason had called for him. Had looked for him, searched out a way to him, that he was even alive. Because his son was strong. Had to be strong all by himself that he was even alive now.

Bruce didn't want to think about all that could've happened. Had Jason given up. Had he ran out of air. Of the will to live.

"You weren't there, dad. You weren't there."

"I'm sorry, Jay. I'm so sorry."

Bruce promised himself as he held Jason even closer. He'd be there this time. And every time after. Always, he'd be there.

Sorry (not sorry)…I guess, if I hurt ya. :)