meadowlarklogs | those who died are justified;

( it's been a day since the incident. a day in which jason has careuflly avoided all the places damian (and dick) would bother visiting. because he did fuck up, this is completely, entirely on him. it's his fault damian got the shit end of the stick, his fault gaby latched on and targeted him.

jason deals with it like he deals with everything: avoids the fuck out of it, because it's better than facing it and screaming in damian's face when he starts getting pissed off, because they both have temper problems, and damian is still figuring out how to cope with his own. they're both messes, shoving each other together in a tense situation is only going to make shit worse.

and it works, for a while. until jason runs out of other places to go. until he wants to go home, lay on his own crappy couch (newer, considering the other one smelled like burnt plastic and was missing half it's cushions) and nap in his own goddamn space. he's more than a little tipsy when he makes his way through the warehouse door, figures he puts up with himself so much easier when he's drunk. it's late, but they're all nocturnal. maybe damian will have already gone on his nightly escapades.

maybe he can nap for a moment without being noticed. )

[ Fat chance.

Perhaps avoidance would have worked with a younger Damian. One who hasn't been left the sole, disowned son of an already shattered family. He notices when he's being avoided, even if he's also doing his fair share of avoiding. Having his dead brothers here is a gift he didn't expect, and one that's sent his mood into a violent tailspin. There are secrets -- secrets he can't tell. Secrets they'd throw him out for, the same way his old man had.

But secrets kill.

His mood is foul after the incident. He gives Jason a wide berth, avoids him like the plague. He can't even think about him without his skin getting hot and itchy, and so he doesn't. He buries himself into the task of making somewhere livable for Dick, and into pursuing other odd jobs around the city. He needs money. They need money. And Damian is the best fighter and the most durable of all of them, the least likely to die, so he figures he'd better start putting himself to work.

He's just about to head out when he hears the doors open and close, only calmed by the sound of familiar footsteps stumbling through the door. He doesn't need to guess where he's been or what he's been doing.

He gets to his feet, steps out of the enclosed space he's starting to call a room. ]

... Jason.

( a voice immediately recognized and categorized as plan failed, he should have fucking known. god. damian stands up, but jason doesn't look to him. just keeps his steady pace towards the couch until he's close enough to let himself collapse down onto it. he hasn't--made himself a corner of the warehouse, yet. nights between loki's place and wherever the fuck else he's found himself hadn't quite made that a necessity. and regardless of what universe this damian is from, jason knows better than to think he's going to get any personal space around him.

he's nosy and gets into everyone's shit. it's not a secret. he's not drunk enough to stumble. just enough to feel a comfortable buzz that's a step passed tipsy but he exaggerates his movements anyway. figures maybe damian will leave him the hell alone if he's not useful.

raises a hand once he's planted his face down into the cushions to try and wave him off with a mumbled, ) Tired.

( not tired enough. but he can fake it with the best of them. )

Don't lie to me.

[ He tries to keep the Bruce out of his tone and off his face. Does well enough that he bites off the you've done enough of that already before it has a chance to be spoken, but not well enough to sound at all soothing about it. It's curt and to the point - his expression is too annoyed, too frustrated.

He opens his mouth to speak. Cuts off whatever he's about to say, and instead takes a deep, calming breath.

Just keep a hold on it. Don't lose it. For the love of God, don't let the wrong side of you win out here. ]

We need to talk.

( damian trying to be the Adult is still weird as shit. he's usually the smallest one, the one with the loud mouth who goes off at the slightest push. like jason has the tendency to do, but smarter about it. big brains to match his lineage, and a physical prowess to go with it. add in the bats' temper problems, and. . . presto.

something like that. the we need to talk line reminds him of bruce, too. damian tries to keep it out of his tone, but jason can hear it. dick pulled the same shit on him when jason found him in the safehouse, too. )

Nah. ( it's not a conversation he wants to have, thank you. and jason's not moving to look at damian, either. stays face down. unsafe as hell, but if damian wants to stab him in the back, jason's not going to stop him. he takes a breath instead, speaks into the pillow. mimics damian's voice as close as he's going to get it. )

Todd, you're an imbecile. What were you thinking?
I was thinking I do whatever the hell I want.
You're going to get yourself killed.
Been there, done that.

[ he can't stop his hands from curling into fists. from the hot spike of anger that lances through him. he's no damn good at this, clark's always been the one to calm him. to help him sort out the anger and pain. victor can get him to talk but never for long, and never about much.

jason's too much like him. they've always been too similar.

but he's not going to just give up. jason got him the stupid dog because he wanted him to open up, right? ]

When I came to the manor I tried to kill you. [ He keeps his voice even. ] I was eight. You were twelve. I'm not sure who felt more threatened by who, but I was the one who pulled a knife on you. I left you bleeding in the cave while I took your costume.

( he's still pissed. at--himself, not at damian, but it doesn't mean jason's any more open to talking about it. less, even. because this is on him, he's punishing himself for it, not damian. but god. jason has spent--god knows how long trying to get this stupid kid to open up and talk to someone, anyone, and here he is, trying.

because jason pulled a stupid, shitty stunt. because he's mad at himself. damian should be pissed as hell, too, it's only fair. but he's trying. and it's enough. )

Your order's all wrong. You tried to kill Tim when you started out, got pissed at someone sitting so close to daddy. ( not the point damian is getting at. ) I hurt you, too. Hell, I've always had a good ten years on you, but I didn't let the fact you were just a snot-nosed brat get in my way. I was an asshole from the start.

I hated Tim for entirely different reasons. [ Well, no, honestly. Mostly because Tim was a know-it-all and Damian didn't like being upstaged or treated like a child, something Tim Drake excelled at on all fronts. Tim had been his father's favorite, and unlike Jason and Dick, had never bonded to Damian. ]

My world is clearly a wreck. But you were one of the best parts of it. You... did your damnedest to allow me to feel like a person, when my father and Dick couldn't understand why I did half the things I did.

Edited 2018-11-24 06:00 (UTC)

( jason has never been a favorite. it's--something he's learned to live with. even with roy, roy had dick first. kori had dick first. babs had dick. bruce always preferred him. hell, damian loves dick best, and that's just. how life is. he's learned to accept it. never being someone's number one in life, always being second best or less.

being. . a best part of someone's life is.

god, damian must have really had an absolute shitfest with it if that's true. jason knows what kind of kid he was. how he never listened. how he started shit without thinking about consequences, the amount of hope being robin brought into his shit existence. he remembers his mother before that, the efforts he went through to protect her, how much it hurt when he found her on the bathroom floor. the shift in his life after dick had handed over his old suit, gave him a phone number to call just in case, because bruce couldn't talk worth jack shit.

that's his biggest problem. don't let it be yours. )

I get it. ( he says finally, turns himself over and sits up to look to damian. keeps his expression carefully neutral. ) What it feels like to have a temper you can't control. How much it hurts when it spills over and you lose it. When you realize how much you've fucked up and you can't take it back. Apologies don't fix that shit. So you just--try and cover it with other shit. Sarcasm. Pretend like it didn't matter at all.

( a breath in, deep. )

I know what being the outcast feels like. The one no one knows how to deal with, so they just--lock you away, throw out the key. Trying to talk about it just comes out a fucking mess, because everything feels like a mess and you don't know how to deal with it. The hurt, the pain, the anger. ( and he lowers his breath, lets the hurt bleed into his expression and tone. ) I don't want that for you. Not ever again.

I know.

[ He gestures, asking if he can sit. He's terrible at this, but - but if he makes it more about Jason, about reaching Jason, he can do it. ]

I become a worse person without you. [ It's true, and he knows it. That Jason's death was the catalyst that made them all worse. It shut Bruce down, it drove Dick and Tim further away, it left him unmoored and without a guide for a world he truly didn't understand. His childhood ended the day they found Jason. ] You can bend over backwards to try to protect me, but that isn't what I need. I don't need to be saved. I don't need you to break yourself or get yourself killed to make my life better, I just need you here.

( this is different. this--is an entirely new set of emotions tied to being around jason todd, menace to society. annoying asshole, crimelord. he's not used to this. to people saying they need him like this. want him around. damian asks to sit and jason moves to give him a little more room, at least.

but jesus, he can't handle conversations like this. )

I fucked up big time, before getting kidnapped here. ( maybe he'll just try and fuck himself over instead. ) I made a promise, a genuine one. I wanted to be part of the family again, after years of--not being around. I promised not to leave blood in Gotham, promised myself. No deaths. But I tried to break it the moment shit hit the fan.

( this damian doesn't care about killing shit, though. )

If I can't even keep a promise I made to myself, I sure as hell can't keep any I make to you. I can't promise to be here, 'cause I am a piece of shit. I'm not trustworthy. I'll fuck everything up again.

You're not the one who isn't trustworthy... but disappointing yourself is worse than anything I or my father could ever say or do to you.

[ He sits. Resting his elbows on his knees, knotting his fingers tightly between them. ]

I'm not going to abandon you over a little bit of bloodshed. Some people deserve to die. Honestly, truly deserve it and the world is better off without them.

[ A glance up. He doesn't see any indication that Dick is here - and despite the thrill of anxiety that it gives him not to be able to see him, he lowers his gaze. ]

I keep forgetting you have no context for why.

You don't have to tell that to me. Grew up in the gutters, remember? I've seen--well. enough.

( that's forgetting his own death, even. the kind of bullshit he's seen joker pull after. just the crap he saw as a kid was enough to make jason realize some people really do deserve to die. that not everything can be fixed by bars or drugs. that a bullet would save so many other lives in a lot of cases.

jason doesn't go into it. instead he leans into damian a little, raises a hand to ruffle his hair. )

's not what I did that's bad. It's that I swore I wouldn't. That I abused what little trust I'd earned back, and for what? Letters written by my piece of shit old man, for crusty revenge that wouldn't help anyone, especially not me.

I know. [ He tolerates it, as he always does. ]

You shouldn't have done it. If you made that promise to yourself, you shouldn't have done it for your own sake. But what's passed has past.

[ He exhales. ]

And you matter more than your mistakes.

( considering how hard damian holds onto his own mistakes--hearing him spout out this is--surprising. but jason understands the sentiment behind the words. understands what he's getting at. )

Make you a deal, D. ( hand slipping out of his his hair to wrap around shoulders, instead. )

I'll work on believing that if you do the same.

[ He should have expected that. He looks at Jason briefly at the contact, then away. To the floor. ]

Not all of mine were mistakes.

Not all of mine were either.

( softly, leaning into damian. this is still fucking weird, but he can handle it--for his snotnosed baby brother. )

I won't leave you, promise.

[ He exhales slowly. Leaning against Jason's shoulder, going quiet. All of this started because Jason thought he needed to do something to get him to talk. ]

We've killed a lot of people, Jason.

Dick doesn't need to know that. 'least, not about you.

( everyone already knows jason todd is the fuck up. that's fine. damian presses in close and jason sure as hell isn't going to stop him. just. rests his cheek against the top of his hair. )

We didn't kill anyone. We just executed the garbage. It's different.

No.

[ He goes quiet again. ]

Jason, I'm not a good person. I haven't done good things. They were all for the greater good, but...

You are a good person.

( don't argue against him, nerd. there's a huff of air that leaves his lips, but jason's not moving away. doesn't try for eye contact. )

You do shit things for good reasons. I get that. Hell, I get that better than most. But you're trying.

[ ... ]

You can't say that without knowing context.

Then give me context, and I'll say it again.

[ A long, slow exhale. He looks up again, looks up to see if Dick is listening - even though he knows he isn't here, can't hear this. ]

( damian braces himself, and jason--waits. doesn't push. doesn't demand, because he knows how well that works out for them.

read: not at all. damian will open his mouth when he feels like it or not at all. )

damian, august 11th

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