Jason jolted awake, frightened, but his head was heavy and throbbing with pain after being forcefully roused. He could sense that there were some clues surfacing in his mind, but he simply couldn't concentrate enough to discern them.
Jason hadn't been this seriously ill in a long time. As Robin, his body had always been robust, and a cold or flu would usually resolve after just one night of rest. Subsequently, the discomforts he experienced were mostly injuries.
Jason had a high tolerance for pain, so he dreaded the kind of malady where everything felt off but you couldn't pinpoint what was wrong. More draining than the headache were symptoms like dizziness and sacroiliac joint pain, but what he found unbearable was muscle weakness—a pervasive weakness that tortured him just as much as being covered in wounds.
Jason could feel his throat swelling up at a visible pace. Within a few minutes, he had lost his ability to speak, and his nose was completely blocked. His eyes were sore and swollen, as if they were about to roll out of their sockets.
Ben Parker and Thor immediately realized that this was a severe cold—a condition not to be underestimated, as it could be just as life-threatening when serious.
So, they exerted some effort to carry Jason to the couch in the living room, got an ice pack for physical cooling, and rummaged through the medicine cabinet at home to find alcohol to wipe his back and arms.
Spider Man quickly returned, bringing fever reducers and syrup, along with pancake mix, chocolate, and electrolyte drinks.
Jason could only vaguely make out the several figures bustling around him. His remaining consciousness kept sinking, and just as it almost reached the bottom, he recalled a severe illness he had experienced when he was very young.
It was the same old story of getting drenched in the rain, a hard-to-avoid problem in Gotham, not something that could be fixed by carrying an umbrella at all times, especially if you were trying to make a living on the streets, too busy to leisurely stroll with an umbrella. Most times, you were running.
When the wind picked up, the coverage of an umbrella was limited. The children of Gotham mostly wore cheap raincoats that provided no warmth. If caught in a downpour, rinsed by the rain, the water would quickly strip away your body heat until you were chilled to the bone.
That day, Jason was in a hurry too. One of his friends had caused some trouble and was beaten half to death at the back door of a mob nightclub. Desperate to save his friend, Jason dashed out the door with just a raincoat thrown on.
Coincidentally, it was pouring heavily in Gotham that day. The large raindrops kept smacking down relentlessly, and a small figure had no chance to weave through the gaps underneath eaves but had to sprint down the middle of the road.
Jason couldn't quite remember how he resolved the situation that day. He only remembered that after he returned to his usual cellar, he started to burn with fever and was so cold he felt like he had plunged into an ice cellar, aching so much he couldn't move.
It was then that Jason clearly realized he was close to death.
Hardly any child in Gotham survived serious illnesses. Often alone, with no family to care for them, lacking medical supplies and nutrition, their immune systems had little to work with—no wonder that not just a severe cold but even a small cut or a blister from running too much could lead to death from infection.
But Jason was different from them; he never wanted to give up. Even though he knew he might not make it, he kept on persisting, never once thinking that death would be a better escape from his suffering.
In his entire struggle with the illness, he did not consider giving up for a moment; all he thought about was surviving, surviving, surviving.
He had the foresight to store some food, which was key to his survival, so even when his throat was so sore that swallowing was difficult, he still ferociously bit into the food, chewed vigorously, and swallowed it in one gulp, like a wolf ruthlessly tearing at its prey's innards.
When he ran out of clean water to drink, the rainwater flowing down the cellar door was not undrinkable. It was just too cold, and Jason managed to dig out a flue from between the bricks on one side of the cellar to make a fire for himself.
The severe cold took a full month to lighten, with a fever that lasted more than ten days, but in the end, Jason overcame the illness. When he walked out of the cramped underground space again, Gotham was experiencing a bright night.
Since then, he had an even greater desire to survive. If he could get through such a predicament, what difficulty could not be overcome? If he gave up after that, wouldn't all his previous suffering have been in vain?
After Batman took Jason home, wealth gave him more room to think, and he began to contemplate why he wanted to survive.
Batman gave him a purpose, to fight criminals and uphold justice. For a long time, this was the reason Jason wanted to keep living—to make the city better and to spare others from the same hardships he had endured.
However, life is unpredictable. Jason was kidnapped by Joker once again, and during the torment in darkness, he struggled with all his might just to survive, until that extreme pain completely twisted his original goals. He was no longer driven by justice, but by revenge.
After that long night, Jason's mind was reset by Shiller's therapeutic methods, and those distorted extreme thoughts began to dissipate. He returned to a life of prosperity and peace, which gave him the leisure to reflect once more.
What can extreme acts of violence bring? Jason thought of Spider Man, standing alone at the entrance to the alley, paying the price for Jason's moment of fury.
Common people don't have the luxury to seek revenge; they need to spend more time and energy on survival. Once they do something beyond their capacity, it inevitably leads to loss, facing even more difficulties.
Batman can take revenge on criminals without worry because he is Batman and also Bruce Wayne. His genius intelligence and vast wealth ensure that he has no concerns. But common people can't do that.
Common people make mistakes and spend time paying for those mistakes. They hesitate and expend even more energy making up for the consequences of their indecision. They don't have the willpower, and they need more leisure and relaxation to maintain mental stability. They hardly have the time or ability for nebulous revenge. If they force it, they either go mad or die.
Jason should know this better than anyone else, he thought, because he is just an ordinary person, a poor soul who climbed up from the very bottom of society.
In that case, maybe he should learn to live like an ordinary person rather than as he does now, engaging in things completely unrelated to survival, making himself suffer and dragging others into it.
The crucial point is the last one. Spider Man had told him, the Parker House's plans for this afternoon were for Uncle Ben to fix the car, while Aunt May did a major cleanup, and Peter, after finishing his homework, was to bring the Christmas tree into the house with Uncle Ben, who would be back.
But Jason's illness threw their plans into disarray. With Jason needing attendance, at least Spider Man and another person had to stay because Spider Man didn't quite know how to care for a patient, but he was the only one who could handle Jason. The remaining person wouldn't be able to leave, as they'd need to care for the three of them.
Their Christmas preparations were ruined. Jason blinked slowly, thinking that tonight they would have had a decorated Christmas tree, a fridge full of Christmas dinner ingredients, perhaps even enjoyable conversations from family gatherings. It was supposed to be their rare relaxing time of the year, but he had ruined it all.
Because he fancied himself a great detective, determined to figure out what Bruce was all about, because he considered himself a thinker, running to the riverside to catch the cold night air without sleeping.
Jason wasn't even sure if Batman, in his many years of vengeance, had disrupted the lives of regular people like himself; or perhaps he didn't dare to think about it, for he knew the answer in his heart.
The same is true for all superheroes. A minor incident in their fight against crime could be a disaster for the common person. Destroyed cars, shattered glass might all be items that ordinary people bought with a lot of money. Fire engines, ambulances, and employees rushing to deliver documents might all have their fates altered by resulting traffic jams.
Are their contributions to society really greater than the destruction they cause? Or is this contribution and destruction mutually compensable? Can the specific fates of those who fell because of them be so easily ignored under the narrative of success?
Jason thought it shouldn't be the case. These things are incommunicable and can never cancel each other out. While societal changes and social conditions may sometimes not be affected by the masses, if no one pursues them and disregards public welfare, the macro level will never progress in a positive direction.
Jason's fever-addled brain recounted these thoughts over and over, leading him to a conclusion: the world needs heroes, but not so many. Living well as an ordinary person isn't also a method for Batman to escape reality?
With that in mind, resolving his own predicament seemed more important. Jason finally relaxed the muscles in his back, curling up on the soft sofa. After struggling to take his medicine and downing a large glass of warm water, he fell asleep.
Jason was awakened by the scent of pancakes, the aroma of eggs, cream, and batter, perhaps with a hint of maple sweetness. Even though his nose was completely blocked, these scents lingered around him.
Slowly opening his eyes, Jason saw Spider Man dangling a pancake above his head. As Jason was waking, Spider Man revealed a broad smile and said, "You're awake? I always said Parker House pancakes are the miracle cure for a cold. Want to have some?"
Jason, with some effort, propped himself up with his arms, getting his upper body a bit more upright, and said with a hoarse voice, "Could I have some water first?"
"At your service." Spider Man immediately handed over a large cup of warm water he had ready. Jason just took two sips, barely tasting it, but soon he detected the sweetness and saltiness in the water.
"I added a bit of glucose syrup and salt," Spider Man said. "You sweated a lot while you were sleeping; I had to wipe you down several times. And it seemed like you were having nightmares, mumbling something about Batman. How do you feel now?"
"I... feel okay."
Jason wasn't just being stubborn. When he realized that he was neither a Robin nor a superhero but just an ordinary person, he found there wasn't much he needed to do.
And all he could do now was to quietly be a patient and rightfully focus on his recovery.