would you break before you twist the knife?

[reneger]

WHO: jason todd & cain
WHERE: shady underground fight rings
WHEN: october 23rd
WHAT: tmw you piss someone off so they send some assholes to try and murder you
NOTES OR WARNINGS: attempted murder, blood, stabbings?? etc etc

( he's gotten a little too comfortable hanging around the fight rings, maybe. jason doesn't get in the ring himself much anymore; when he's angry, when he wants to punch someone's lights out, when he's feeling a little more stiff than usual--sure. why the hell not. but he's here for information, to chat with the usual customers, talk with members of the warlocks and laugh at all the right jokes, start shit with all the wrong people.

it's a home away from home; the rougher crowd reminds him of life back in gotham, helps fill in that bit of homesickness he gets while satisfying that craving for something a little more. and sometimes, shit happens. fights start. knives get thrown, people pull out all their shiny tech or show off their enhancements and it's fun.

what isn't fun is that jason's gotten overly comfortable with it all. enough that he lets himself get just tipsy enough, grins at the man in front of him--wade--as they talk through the new supply route sen has been planning out when someone approaches him from behind. moves to step to the side of jason with just enough space jason doesn't see it as anything shady but--

there's a knife in hand. a knife he's holding in a tight fist and thrusting it right for jason's chest with a quick step in. fast enough that jason doesn't have time to dodge, but does have time to wrap his own goddamn fingers around the blade to keep it from sinking in too deep. he hisses, gripping tight as the man moves to try and thrust it in deeper despite the hand in his way. if it had landed any higher, jason'd be fucked.

the guy may have been fast enough to get the knife in, but jason's reaction time after getting the shit stabbed out of him is better. he takes a step forward with his hand still gripping onto the knife, hisses through the pain and leans in to shove a forearm against the man's upper arm. lets go of the blade just long enough to wrap his fingers around his wrist and forcefully pull the knife out, keeps hold of that wrist and turns the man's arm in before slamming his elbow into his humerus and raising a leg to slam his knee directly into the man's crotch. )

Ow, fuck. ( he's down. jason can't bend over to grab hold of the knife, but wade's snapped out of the momentary shock enough to try and grab it with a shout back to someone else. jason raises the bloody, cut up hand to his chest where the knife dug in--right between floating ribs, a great shot for his fucking liver which he'd be thinking about if he wasn't. busy collapsing down onto his knees and trying to keep pressure on it.

it's definitely going to leave a mark. )

Comments

[blyat]

Dickie?

[It comes out a sharp, shaky laugh as Cain takes care of putting everything in the kit away, all the soiled items to be cleaned or disposed. He takes another swig from the alcohol, too, because whatever, he bought it. May as well drink it.]

Yeah, sent him a message. He knows. [Not while he was stitching Jason up, but in the interim before.] So what's the story with you two? Why not the little brother?

[reneger]

( it's not a story he wants to get into. the--overly complicated relationship he and dick have, here. back home, they'd straightened a lot of shit out. here--dick is years behind jason, he's used to jason being fucked up and crazy and pulling weird shit and not trying, not like he does now. it pisses him off. but. )

Hafid'll try and find some way to blame himself. An' if he can't, he'll go push for revenge. ( a low grunt, raising the bloodied hand up to inspect the damage. not too bad at all, for something he used as a quick fix. ) Dick'll just get pissed at me for not being more careful.

[blyat]

Sounds like a complicated family relationship.

[Maybe it never is anything less than complex. Cain won't pry into what the history is between these brothers, but he can tell they play their cards close to their chest from the briefer interactions he's shared with Dick and Hafid both. All three have that in common, not that Cain's dissimilar. Just different cards.]

Gonna stay here until he shows up. Okay?

[There's no room for argument. He reaches for a metal stool tucked into the corner of the room, drags it closer, and perches on it.]

/busts in like the kool aid man

[preceded]

I'm here.

[It didn't take as long as he'd expected, to navigate the space- not between Cain's helpful directives and his thunderous expression. He's not sure it would have gone quite so well, if they'd all known the two in this room had invited a member of the NAPD into their midst.

There's a beat longer that he stands in the doorway, fingers curled around the knob until his knuckles have gone white and bloodless. Asses the room, Cain, the attempt at piecing Jason back together and the little brother in question. The one who couldn't just seem to stop getting into trouble no matter what circumstances they were under.

And while Jason certainly looks out of it, worse than he's seen him in a long time- he also doesn't look like he's going to drop dead at any moment. Whatever work Cain did to tide him over- it seems to have done the job, and something eases about his shoulders just slightly. He steps into the room and swings the door shut behind him, at least a temporary barrier in the event that anyone did want to follow them in.

It's short work to bridge the distance between them, though he only spares Cain a pointed, cool glance that brings the message that he should stay put across loud and clear, and then he's crouching down by Jason, reaching out to skim his fingers along his cheek. The first time he's initiated the bond with this particular brother, for no discernible reason at all. Concern comes across clearest, with the anger rolling thick and heavy beneath it, though he's trying to alleviate it by thinking of something good, something sweet- anything to keep Jason focused off how he feels]

What the hell happened?

[reneger]

( it's quiet, for several moments. there's nothing for jason to say to cain's response, nothing for him to give back. cain's been more than enough, but he doesn't--know how to put words to that. definitely doesn't want to either, not here. these aren't the circumstances one should be giving praise in, not like that. so jason takes a breath, steadying. closes his eyes and lays there. doesn't move, because like hell does he really want to pull on fresh stitches over a wound that's still killing him.

dick's voice rings true, loud and right outside the door and jason opens an eye, watches the door swing open. watches it slam shut before dick's getting up close and personal, putting a hand against his cheek and jason hates it. turns his head away with a hiss, but it's a little too late for that. his skin's--overly cold to the touch, he's much more pale than he should be, and while jason's always a creature of too many tumultuous emotions all that bleeds through the empathy bond is pain. it throbs to the beat of his heart, to each breath and it's fucking terrible. he doesn't like it. especially doesn't like that dick's touching him and feeling it with him.

but it's strong enough he barely notices dick's own emotions. )

Got stabbed 's what. ( gruff, low. the barriers that had gone down when it was just him and cain are right back up. his shoulders stiffen, before that too has him hissing in pain. ) I was just having a nice conversation. Didn't do jack shit, Cain saw it.

( don't yell at him, this wasn't something he went out of his way to cause. )

[blyat]

[As soon as Dick is through the door, Cain sits up more rigid astride the stool, hands in his lap and curled into tight bloodless fists. It's not his business to get involved between the two of them, but dark eyes follow Dick across the room like a watchful guard dog nonetheless. Trusts Jason more than anything to have picked someone he can trust -- family, it seems, which is a decent indicator -- but he's uneasy through this whole ordeal.

The words that call him out just make him relive the worst of that experience as he'd watched Jason go down, the assailant's shadow lost in the crowd. How adrenaline of fear kicked into his body. It's draining out of him now and he feels exhausted for it, but that pales in comparison to the pain he knows Jason is experiencing. But he's alive. That's the crucial fact.]

Guy came at him out of nowhere, used the crowd to stay anonymous and secure a quick getaway. Bastard's a coward.

[Cain had wanted to go after him, but the priority of getting Jason somewhere safe while he bled came first.]

Might wanna wrap your hand, uh. [Since he'd used his fingers to guard against a fucking blade.] There's some more bandages in the kit.

[preceded]

Don't start.

[If it were any other situation, any other protestation of innocence- Dick would have rolled his eyes hard enough to strain something. As it is, he settles for checking over Cain's work himself. Takes note of the healing gel carefully layered over top of the stitchwork. It's not a perfect job- but the stitches are neat and well enough to survive the wear and tear of transporting Jason somewhere safer.

Satisfied, he shifts his attention back to the conversation at hand. The little details are important, need to be given once, twice, and again- need to happen when they're as fresh in the mind as possible. Jason knows this, and while he can't rule out that Cain has a similar skillset to their own, given that he's a largely unknown variable, he's certain that Jason knows exactly what to look for, what to process even when he's largely occupied with something else]

Coward's not the word I'd use. [If the assailant was someone Jason was familiar with, someone who'd done it out of some perceived slight- who'd realized what he'd done just after the initial act and bolted- sure, that's apt. As it is- the word Dick would use is professional]

You fight in an illegal ring, where large sums of money are being placed on a certain outcome. People rig these things on much less cash. They also take out the competition outside of the ring, if they have a lot to lose.

Has anything like this ever happened before?

[Even if they didn't succeed? That's the problem with the lack of transparency they've had before. Dick has to ask- because Jason would never have told him before. And while Dick is certain that Jason is smart enough to throw the occasional fight or pick one against an opponent with enough mods that he knows he could never win against, to avoid drawing all the wrong kinds of attention- he's also insanely reckless, with a hair trigger temper that sometimes blinds him to what he knows the right move is.

It's possible that this is nothing. That this is someone who wanted to take him out to win the next few fights and recoup their losses while Jason was out healing. It's also possible that this is so, so much bigger.

There's a pause, when Cain draws attention to Jason's hand and Dick's leaning for the kit even as he's using his other to grab at Jason's hand, turning it to look at the damage. There's the press of the tongue against the back of his teeth, before he looks at their companion]

I don't know what you're doing here- [if he fights, if he comes to hang out with Jason between the rounds-] but I know there's a bar full of people who just saw you get involved in this. Who saw that you were invested. Start finding somewhere else to hang out.

[It's firm, authoritative without meaning to be- the same sort of lecturing he'd give to any of his other brothers and expect them to listen. If Cain doesn't- if he gets snagged in the crossfire of whatever this is- he might not get as lucky as Jason, to have one of their own there.

Time to get real legal jobs, kids]

[reneger]

( dick's taking charge again and jason--well. dick's right, jason can't say shit about this. he called for him, in a way. he asked for this himself, and jason sure as hell can't take charge right now. he's colder than he should be, woozy after losing so much fucking blood and everything hurts. trying to navigate his way through anything that isn't finding the next best place to hide is going to be near impossible.

so he doesn't. he grits his teeth, lets dick grab hold of his hand. the cut there's deep enough that it's definitely still bleeding, goes across his palm and through a few fingers where he gripped tight but it's--not damage enough to cause anything permanent. jason knew he needed to protect his internal organs. also knew he needs his fucking hands.

even if he doesn't like being manhandled like this, thanks. )

Haven't fought for a bit--usually only for show. ( he's moved up in his circle, there's no need to impress the local gangs anymore and he doesn't pay much in rent. the money he gets from favors is usually enough to sustain himself. that, and the other shenanigans he gets into when no one's looking. ) Guy knew who he was coming for, but I don't think it had jack shit to do with, ( hold on, he needs a breath. slow in, slow out. ) the crowd here. 'm respected.

( he's working his way up through the metaphorical food chain. only someone drunk or high would be stupid enough to come for him in front of the warlocks. this guy was neither. )

Cain's fine. ( a beat. low, ) Probably.

[blyat]

[Cain's eyes drift between the two brothers, watching the exchange, fine to sit it out as much as he needs to. He did what he intended: got Jason somewhere marginally safer than an open crowd and kept him alive until help could come and fill in the gaps. That's what Dick represents here, and regardless of the brief exchange they'd had what feels like ages ago now, Cain's neutral to that. He just wanted to keep Jason in one piece.]

I'm fine. [Echoing Jason.] Doesn't matter.

[While he does have a real, legal job in the outside world to pay most of the bills, this place is an outlet for him. It's also potentially useful in the event of underground rumors. That said, Cain's been coming here less since the arrival of Abel and the progression of his and Prompto's "friendship" with Hideki Maeda -- too much occupying his time and attention. Dick isn't wrong that there were other witnesses. He doesn't care, so long as it won't impact his position with Hideki.]

Besides, I helped him because I was here. [One boot lifts, hooking the heel into the stool's lower rungs.] You guys want me to stick around, or what?

[Maybe they need private time... to yell at each other... or whatever brothers do.]

[preceded]

[He's pressing gauze to the wound of Jason's hand first thing, pressing down sharply in a way that he knows is going to hurt, fingers wrapped around his palm in the mockery of a loose hold. He's aiming to stem the blood flow, only temporarily, enough that he can wipe it clean and see just how bad the wound is, without more coming out on top.

While he waits, he listens, and his mouth thins- there's plenty he could say to that- a whole tirade that's been formed of bits and pieces of others over the years, that gaining respect amongst the crowd here is something that Jason aimed for, that of all the possible angles to work in this city, this is the one he picked. But he's not here to start anything he doesn't intend to finish, in the face of his brothers injuries, he says nothing. Just rolls his shoulders to release the tension, lifts the gauze slightly and wipes it down the length of the wound. It's a clean edge, deep- but not enough to cut through his tendons, not deep enough to hit bone. It's all he manages before it fills in again- but it's more than enough. He makes quick work from there of cleaning it out, putting more gauze beneath for padding, and then wrapping it tightly. Enough to discourage some mobility, knowing Jason- he needs it.

Finally:]

And you didn't know him. [It's said more for confirmation, for the act of processing it out loud, however frustrating, than it is because he couldn't have guessed it. If Jason had known him, he'd have tacked that onto the end of his initial information. There's a pointed look there, for his brother. He has to have an inkling of what that means. That the reasons Dick had to be angry after their initial arrival in New Tokyo were completely vindicated, all in one well placed knife. He's not sure how much Cain does, or doesn't know- so the look is where he leaves it]

You think this doesn't matter? [It's entirely the wrong thing to say Cain, and there's a sharp gesture at Jason's midsection] I'm sure you've met quite a few people here who'd disagree with you, if you were on the receiving end. It might have benefited him that you were here, I won't argue that- but you can't always be.

People like this will root out any weakness you have and exploit it. [That's part of what he meant- when he said they saw him get invested. That he cared what happened to Jason, that he called in backup. Moved them to this room and waited to make sure no one could come in. That's one weakness right there, a means to get to Jason. Cain has those too] If I can't talk you out of coming back, be more careful. Pay attention to the people around you. Try to wear something hard to stab through, under your shirt. Make sure you have back up.

[That should be easy enough. He knows the 'probably' that Jason gives could be true too, but Dick isn't going to run with anything but 'definitely fine'. As for the other question] It'd be easier to move him with you, but I don't need you, no.

[He'll leave that up to Cain. He's already been sufficiently grounded by proxy.]

[reneger]

( there's no point in bitching or fighting against dick, so jason skips all that bullshit. winces and clenches his jaw tight when dick digs his fingers into the wound on his hand, but--it's fine. he's had worse. he can handle this bit. and he's careful to keep fingers slack, lets dick manhandle him around because he's going to anyway. not resisting only makes it easier, right? )

No, I didn't recognize 'em. It wasn't personal, he must've been following orders. ( confirming what he and dick both already know: that this is about someone up the foodchain that jason's pissed off. dick was right all along, and jason fucking hates it. especially that he had to find out like this. and then he starts--going off on cain. that's enough to really piss him off, enough that jason's focusing eyes up onto dick and shifting his weight onto his (noninjured side) forearm to try and sit himself up. it hurts, it's definitely causing the stitches on his midsection to sting a little more, but jason's nothing if not stubborn. too stubborn to give up just because something hurts. )

Fuck off, Cain's not your responsibility. ( he's jason's, and jason knows damn well better than to start giving cain orders. it doesn't go well. cain isn't an idiot, either; he's seen shit go down within the walls of the fight club, he's betting cain'll at least try to be a little more careful.

there's a glance over towards him, too. jason's expression pinches tight, before he's transferring temporary ownership of his hoverbike over to cain. not a word about it, just a text stating where it's been left. driving shit like that's not smart when he's full of holes, and he's not asking dick to move it. )

Just--help me to Loki's? And 'll be fine from there. Swear.

[blyat]

[There's a reply burning on the tip of his tongue as Dick reels those words off him -- That's not what I said -- and maybe Dick's sentiment comes from a place of knowledge and genuine concern, but he doesn't know this guy. It feels like he's being lectured. Of course he knows what happened to Jason matters, he got fucking stabbed, but Cain didn't. So his own well-being is secondary right now. If someone's going to make a big deal out of this, then it can't be avoided now. It already happened.

Still, even after Jason's done, even after he's transferred the hoverbike neural key to him with a quick message, Cain's temper flares into defiance.]

What the fuck was I supposed to do? Just watch it happen from a safe distance, pretending I don't give a shit? [He gestures toward Jason, still prone on the ground.] Let him bleed out, let that other bastard get another stab in? Fuck that. Someone wants to come after me too, let 'em. I'll deal with it. I know how, I'm not a moron who's never seen this shit before.

[And if it's something he can't handle, then he has no business being here in the underground or hanging anywhere near Jason. It's as much as he deserves for not being prepared for that outcome. Still, that this has happened at all is a shock. Maybe there was a false sense of security; he's not going to let that happen again, if he can avoid it.

Dick says he doesn't need him, Jason's passed over temporary ownership of the bike, so that's that. He whips toward the door...]

Call me if something else happens.

[... and slams it on the way out.]