"Why? I don't know for the sake of being unoriginal. Dry. Worn out, over used. I can continue?.." He offered as he stared downward at his former partner. He was focusing more on slowing down his breath then having a chat with Jason. He had to if he wanted to get out the building alive, with the people stuck a few floors above them. "Me?" It couldn't be seen thanks to the mask hiding most of his face but there was confusion written over his features. "What are you talking about?" He was getting worse. It didn't take rocket science to see. Jason was unable to see the lines he was crossing. It only made it more dangerous for Dick. He was becoming more and more unpredictable He didn't want to lock him up till the end of time, and he refused to kill him. So what was option C?
Jason was his responsibility and nobody elses. He was being blamed. Not Clark, not the rest of the Justice League(which was still a weird term..) him. If he need be, Dick would follow him to the end of the earth to make sure something like this never happened again, and innocent civilians weren't caught up in family affairs. "They aren't a part of this Jason!" He tried reasoning, pointing above with a gloved hand. But very little of what he was saying seemed to be getting through. He doubted this time would be an exception.
"It practically killed him that he couldn't save you, Jason. " The longer he spent wrestling with Red Hood the worse the odds got that he was going to be able to save the civilians and get them all out of the building. His lungs were starting to burn. He estimated that the next few moves he made were vital and began internally mapping them out. When Jason hit the floor Dick followed. He attempted to pin him when Jason's leg came for a sweep and he barely spotted it out of the corner of his eyes. Visibility was terrible. But he saw it with a second to spare, and that second meant everything in their line of work. He was able to go in for the table changing roll and kipped up to his feet, facing Jason and his gun. he still had one of Babs' batterangs on him, it slipped instantly out of his gloves cuff where he kept what few items he had, and went straight for the disarm.
Even if Jason saw it coming, it was enough of a distraction to shove him out the same window he came through to get in the first time. They'd backed up nearly close enough during their scuffle. He knew a push out a window wouldn't kill him. It would give him just enough time to run and grab the victims above. So using the batterang as his distraction he lunged forward and with two strong arms thrust them at Jason's chest. Jason had to get out of the building, if he was feeling the burn heknew Jason was.