Disclaimer: Everything belongs to DC Comics.

AN: Hello Everyone! This is my first attempt at writing Batlantern. They're my otp and I probably won't do them justice but I'm willing to give it a shot. I've got a lot going on right now so updates will probably be few and far between.


I Ain't Quittin' You

Chapter 1

The world was all wrong. Muted somehow. People were yelling but for the life of him Hal couldn't make out what they were saying. He wished whoever they were would just shut the hell up and let him sleep. Sleep sounded nice. Sleep sounded real good right about now. It was so tempting to just let the darkness take him. But every time he tried to let go, those damn voices would pull him back. He was starting to get annoyed. The more they spoke the more aware he became of the pain radiating throughout him. Wait, what? Why was he in pain again? He wasn't really sure. There was a faint memory, something important tugging at the back of his mind, something begging for his attention right damn now. But every time he tried to focus in on it the splitting pain in his head would drive it away. So instead he let himself drift in and out.

The voices were closer now. Hal tried to take a deep breath so he could tell them all to shove it but his lungs wouldn't work right. There was some sort of weight on his chest. Something heavy holding him down. Whatever it was it was making his ribs burn like a motherfucker. God why wouldn't they just let him sleep?

"...Hal..."

Someone was talking to him. Or about him. He couldn't really make out what they were saying just yet but as the minutes ticked by he was getting more and more.

"...gonna be fine…"

Him? Was Hal the one who was gonna be fine? Maybe they weren't talking about him. But then who else?

"...fucking idiot… the hell were you thinking… should have known!"

That voice, that specific voice was ringing some bells as it rose above the din. Some very obnoxious bells. Who the hell was that? Green something or other… Green… Green Arrow. Oliver. Oliver was yelling at him. Or at someone else, who the hell knew. Hal tried to open his mouth so he could tell Ollie to shut his, because for the love of God please shut up you're all so loud and it hurts.

"...needs room to rest…"

"No. We need to talk about this…"

Was that Barry just now? Kinda sounded like him but Hal wasn't too sure. They were all talking too fast. Too loud. They weren't making any sense. It was like trying to understand a foreign soap opera when you only had a very basic concept of the language. Confusing, frustrating and very tiring.

"Diana's right…"

"I think it might be better if you all continue this conversation in the hall."

Strong. Authoritative. That one sounded like Clark. At least, he thought it was Clark...

"... he get to stay?"

"Oliver now isn't the time…"

"I'm not just going to leave him of all people here with Hal!... my friend… I know that but… his fault!"

All the voices began to join in then, a hurricane of sound that was grating on his brain. It was too much, he couldn't take this. They needed to stop right fucking now or-

"Enough."

The new voice cut through the cacophony like a knife, silence suddenly seizing the room. Huh, so Spooky was here too. Where was here exactly…

"Everyone out."

"But-"

"Now."

There's a hell of a lot of grumbling, especially from Oliver, but soon they all fade into the faint sound of footsteps moving across the room and then there's just the whoosh of the door shutting behind them. Ahh, blessed silence. Thinking he's finally been left alone, Hal begins to drift again, the pain easing a bit. He starts when a hand gently presses down over his own. Someones holding his hand. Sort of. They're not really holding it, just touching it firmly. They don't do anything else for a long time, just let it rest there. Hal has to admit, it feels pretty nice. After a while he hears the click of a button, there's a rushing feeling and then the pain is gone and there's nothing.

The next time Hal's conscious, there's the nasty taste of chalk in his mouth like he hasn't had anything to drink in a very long time. The pain has lessened. It's still there, just dulled. Taking as deep a breath as he can manage, Hal begins to open his eyes… and immediately slams them shut again.

Damn it's bright in here. Much slower this time, he tries again. Peeking at the room around him he waits until his eyes have adjusted. When they finally do, what he finds is about as much as he expected. He's in Medical, and Barry's passed out on the chair to his left, completely sprawled out with his head tilted back. A thin line of drool is slowly making its way down his chin.

As he looks down and lifts his blanket up Hal takes in the fact that he's a) shirtless and b) has numerous bandages wrapped around his torso and even more covering his legs and arms. He, understandably, begins to freak out a little. His ears are ringing and Hal has no idea why he's here. What little gaps of skin he can see are mottled with cuts and bruises, he's wearing a neck brace and for God's sake he can't remember why he's here. Now that he's noticed it, there's a gap in his mind, a huge blank space where something obviously very important to Hal's well being should be and what the fuck happened.

His head hurts, a lot.

Amidst his impending freak out Hal notices a clipboard loaded with medical nonsense lying on the side table to his right. He immediately reaches for it without thinking and gasps as something in his side pulls. Instead of grabbing the clipboard his hand bangs into the table and knocks over a rather important looking piece of equipment.

There's a loud clatter as it hits the ground and the noise has his head throbbing painfully in an instant. Hal barely has time to wince before Barry is suddenly standing at the end of Hal's bed wide eyed and whirling around looking for whatever woke him up.

Barry freezes when his eyes land on the frustrated lantern and then a hesitant smile takes over his face. He reaches up to wipe a hand across his mouth as he moves forward to lean on the edge of the bed and Hal relaxes a bit because if the speedsters not too worried then it can't be that serious.


Please review! Comments, questions and constructive criticism are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

AN: In case anyone's curious, the title for this fic is a quote from Night at the Museum. It's from the scene where Jed and Octavius are trying to pop the tires on the van. I chose it because their relationship kind of reminds me of Hal and Bruce in a lot of ways.