[ Not only did Jason get kicked in the face last night, of course not. It isn't about the split nose he has, or the black eye, reminding him to pad his helmets better from now on. No, he also got kicked in the face by Bruce. Bruce . Bruce who he had revealed his identity to a few months back. Bruce who had died, or faked his death like a Bat would. Bruce who had been oh so sorry for what had happened to Jason, just seemed to have forgotten about it and kicked him in the fucking face like he was some lowlife mugger in an alley.
It had ended in Jason disappearing into one of his safe-houses to investigate the comeback of the Bat, but -- not a single entry could be found. In fact he - apparently - never even died.
In fact, Jason, the Arkham Knight, didn't even fucking exist. His crusade. His work. His life. For nothing?
It's because of this that, the next day, Jason finds himself investigating his so-called family even more, finding nothing that'd help understand the situation. He needs answers, answers he's not gonna get from the Bat. He'd never think of approaching his replacement, too sure he'd shoot him right away. Barbara must be with the replacement 24/7 due to being his fiancee, so she was a no-go as well. Who better to approach then his favorite big poser of a brother then?
By now Jason finds himself on top of Dick's apartment, more anxious than he'd ever admit, because well -- he hadn't faced the man ever since the Joker took him all these years back. He swallows the feeling when he hears Dick calling out to the intruder. Huh.
A sudden wave of anger shoots through Jason, both caused by last night's events as well as his "brother's" annoying confidence, and he snaps.
Jason, now calling himself the Red Hood, walks towards the edge of the roof and jumps, holding on to the building as he kicks in the window, landing on one knee in the middle of the room where a certain bird stands, threatening him.
Jason looks up at him and rises slowly, fingers aching to grab his guns, but he's more curious about the other man's reaction to him in the first place. Besides, he doesn't feel threatened by a messily clothed, barely prepped circus freak. ]
[ Barely prepped circus freak who only stops himself smacking the shit out of that helmet when the garbled voice registers, the new design of ... well, everything, throwing Dick off long enough that a beat of silence is his answer. ]
... Jason?
[ Despite the melodramatic entry, the tension in Dick's shoulders eases and he straightens from a defensive crouch, glancing between Jason and his now shattered window. Quite aside from taking Jason as a threat seriously, Dick plants a hand on a hip and gestures to all the glass on the floor. ]
You know, I have a door to my actual home, which this happens to be! What's gotten into you? This had better be urgent.
[ Jason frowns underneath the helmet when Dick loosens up his stance. He shouldn't be surprised given the situation, but-- he couldn't help it. It pissed him off. Dick was one of the people who let him down, and he was fucking pissed at the man, and he wasn't even supposed to know Jason was alive! Yet he stands there, like it was no surprise, like he saw him just the other day. That was wrong. It was so, so wrong.
Jason scoffs and doesn't even care about Dick going off about the windows. He is visibly tense and says, voice on the verge of turning into something vile, ]
When did you find out it's me? And why is he still alive?
[ Squinting through his mask, he cocks his head in confusion. What sorts of questions are those? It briefly crosses his mind that Jason could be drunk or intoxicated in some other way, but that feels off somehow. ]
No offense but the red hood kind of gives it away, Red Hood. Who are you talking about? Jay, take off the helmet.
He widens his eyes for a second, right before gritting his teeth at the thought.
Dick had never seen him. Never seen his face, and even if, for some reason, he knew who he was - that didn't fucking mean Jason was anything close to ready for that. Not now. Not with -- with the scar.
He reaches for his gun and points it at the other man, voice still low behind the distortion, ]
What happened to the Arkham Knight, Dick? What happened to me?!
[ Tensing up under gunpoint, he slowly sheathes an escrima stick and holds out a hand as if to calm Jason down. The other man hasn't been this bad in years, it's unnerving to see that sort of regression. More so than the gun pointed at his face, in a way. ]
I don't know who the Arkham Knight is, you're going to use your words instead of guns. What do you think has happened to you, Jay? Can you tell me?
[ He doesn't know what to say, or what to do. He hadn't really thought about it either. Revealing himself like this was never his plan, but now that he knows for sure somethings definitely off, Jason's at a loss.
Should he leave and keep investigating? A good idea, but it wouldn't help him at all. His best chance at finding out what the hell was going on was Dick, and the man was right. Killing or hurting him won't do that job. Not completely, at least.
But how would he start? How would he explain what he'd achieved in one sentence?
He reluctantly lowers the gun, but his grip on it tightens and he doesn't holster it yet. Instead he takes a step towards the man, wildly gesturing with the gun in hand; ]
I was the Knight. I took over Gotham! Bruce died! After he left me to die at the hands of the Joker!
[ He feels himself begin to shake just slightly. Saying all that, it made him... vulnerable. ]
[ Literally none of what Jason says makes sense; except for if Dick puts it in the weird context of those waking dreams he was forced to suffer a year ago, the ones Clark helped pull him through. A bunch of different Dick Graysons ... and Wally, he had insisted people here were different, that Linda didn't know him at all.
Dick peels off his mask to toss it aside, wide blue eyes on Jason. Noticing the tremors in that bulk. Tim or Damian would have preferred to knock Jason out and lock him in the Batcave (and they would have been right to, like this they're no match for him) but Dick doesn't want to fail him again. It's almost a personal bar of integrity not to, these days. ]
It's going to be okay, Jason. I promise. We can stay here for as long as you need, just the two of us. Me and you.
[ Dick's expression can't be read, but seeing his lips part tells Jason that the man is clearly caught off guard. And when he tells Jason it'd be fine, that they could talk -- he just feels lost.
The man had no idea what he was talking about, that much was sure. But being caught in this situation makes him nervous, big time. He isn't sure if he lost or gained more in this.
Jason takes a breath and steps back, hesitating. He starts to pace in the room, thinking, before coming to a stop several feet away from the other. ]
No. No, it's your turn now. Tell me who I am. Tell me!
[ As long as Jason doesn't start shooting up Dick or the apartment, things are going better than expected. ]
You're Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne, the Red Hood of the Outlaws. You're my little brother, [ Jason can do cartwheels over that but Dick doesn't care, he means it, ] the second robin ... and you died when the Joker kidnapped you, but you came back to us. You're part of the family.
That's the Jason I know, but I think we've got some issues with time and space right now. I'll have to call Wally to figure this out. Will you let me do that?
He stops, just looking at the man. What he says is wrong on so many levels. It's just not what fucking happened! ]
No. No, that's not who I am! You have no fucking idea! Just like Bruce!
[ It does make sense, though. Jason just doesn't like the idea of it. Once the other man says he'd have to call a speedster, Jason aims his gun at him again. In a low tone; ]
No. You ain't gonna call no one. You and I are gonna have a talk now, Dickie. Alone.
[ He moves fast and closes all the (remaining) windows, then shuts all the blinds.
He turns to the other vigilante and uses his gun-hand to point at a nearby chair. He'd have to make sure Dick wouldn't make a dumb move and tie him. ]
Sit down. Put the weapons down and kick them towards me.
[ His patience starts to fray, jaw setting as Jason starts flailing his firearm around again. ]
You're not going to shoot me, Jason.
[ He can force himself to believe that if necessary. If he's wrong, well ... Dick's fast. ]
We're both confused right now, so let's sit down and talk. I'm not putting my weapons away when my potential opponent is a guy with guns, you know I won't. Please. Please, just trust me.
[ Startled by the gun going off, Dick holds his ground and stares at him for a long moment. He takes a seat purely to put Jason at ease but doesn't look happy about it, arms folding.
Mutinously, he adds in an undertone. ]
Told you, you wouldn't shoot me. [ And he waits, staring across the room with blue eyes locked on with lasers. ] I know you better than you think, Jason, no matter where you came from.
[ Jason secretly sighs in relief, not that he'd admit it. Dick let him down, yes, but he doesn't want to hurt him. He doesn't deserve it like Bruce does. -- Which doesn't mean that Jason wouldn't, if he had to.
He immediately approaches the other man and uses his knife to cut off the broken lamp's power cord. He then ties Dick's wrists behind his back, abandoning his sticks on the bed several feet away from them.
When he's done, Jason grabs another chair and places it in front of his brother's, its backrest fronting the man as Jason sits down on it. ]
You think you know me?
[ he asks, fingers tightening around the handle of his gun.
He then moves his one hand to turn off his helmet's security, barely thinking when slowly taking it off to reveal venomous green eyes and an ugly, J-shaped scar on his left cheek. ]
You're wrong, Dick. If you really did, you would've run.
[ If Jason thinks that assaulting the poor lamp and tying Dick up in his own apartment is a good idea, he's too stressed to be thinking things through. What he wants is the veneer of control, he has to be reassuring himself Dick isn't a threat for some reason other than the usual ...
That reason becomes clear as the hood is removed, leaving a scarred, harsher version of the Jason he knows glaring back at him. Sympathy fills Dick from head to toe, leaning forward despite the snarled threats. Jason looks like a battered dog off the streets. ]
[ Jason barks a laugh at Dick's response. His claim is so untrue that it's funny, in the most cynical kind of way. ]
You mean like you left me behind, Dick? Like you all left me to rot in Arkham?
[ He understands that this might not be his reality, but he can't help it. Jason feels as if he might be able to make things right other than destroying Gotham City, if only his emotions wouldn't get in the way. His voice is low when he speaks, getting louder with every sentence, eyes directed at the other's; ]
The Joker took me is what happened. You and Bruce didn't give a shit is what happened. You left me to be tortured and broken! For over a year! With him.
[ Dick leaning in isn't expected; but Jason mimics the gesture if only to intimidate him. ]
You replaced me is what fucking happened! And now you claim you know and care for me? Well, fuck! Found the mistake yet?
[ He sighs after that and backs off again. That's really not what he should worry about now. What was his goal here anyway? But Dick makes it so fucking hard to not get angry with his-- his stupid face and his stupid eyes pretending to be concerned. ]
[ He doesn't look frightened, concern edging the wide whites of his eyes as he listens and his heart breaks for the broken man in front of him. Kidnapped to the Asylum and kept by the Joker? No wonder ... ]
No wonder you hate us.
[ Dick's gaze drops as he shakes his head, glancing up with the borrowed shame he's sure his alternate feels. ]
... I'm so sorry, Jason. I'm not the Dick you know, but I'd bet on him hating himself too for letting that happen to you.
[ He hates it. Hates how the other man looks at him. Doesn't want the pity. But what'd he think anyway? What'd he expect? ]
It was still you. [ His voice dropped once again, leaving him with nothing but desperation and confusion.
What follows is a stretched silence from his end, eyes moving across the whole room.
So if this is some sort of situation where he got out of his own reality and into this new one, what does that mean?
Can he get back? Is there another him? Does he want to get back?
Thoughts flood his mind, thoughts that both relief and infuriate him. For one it means that he never hurt the people he cares for like he did. Maybe it means that he has a family. It could mean that he could start over.
On the other hand, all his work would be lost. The years he trained, the sacrifices he made to achieve his plan. All the agony he went through, all the torture, for nothing. No one would remember him as the person he used to be. And he especially would have no right to hate his "family" like he does. It could also mean that he was still alive, which made Jason's jaw tense so much it hurt.
He can't deal with any of this. Having Dick tied up doesn't help his cause. Being mad at him doesn't help either. But Jason just really, really couldn't help himself. ]
What happened here, then? Is the Joker still alive? Am-- am I?
[ Luckily for Jason, his older brother is probably the only person who would accept responsibility for failing him across the multiverse. Dick sits up with comical surprise, latent alarm making him suck in a breath. ]
Oh my god, I should check he's still here. What if you switched? Jason, untie me right now, I have to make a call.
[ Jason frowns, realizing what the other male is on to. If he'd actually exist in here -- which he doesn't know, because he hasn't seen himself patrolling -- it could make things a lot more complicated. Or fun, depending on the point of view.
He inhales a deep, exasperated breath and takes his time to let it out again. ]
Fine.
[ He gets up and unties the other man by cutting his restrains with the help of his knife, his other fingers still tightly wrapped around his gun. The nervousness increases. He felt trapped in this rollercoaster of emotions. ]
[ Dick takes up his mask and activates the headset inside with his voice, holding it more like a phone for Jason's benefit so he can hear the conversation. Once the code is reeled off with Jason's current number, Dick visibly relaxes once a grumpy voice picks up with, ]
What do you want, Dickard?
Jay. Thank God, uh. Hi? Are you ... okay?
Is this a social call, Dick, or do you actually want something? Because I'm busy right now -
Social call! Sorry. We'll catch up tomorrow, yeah? My bad!
You're the worst.
[ The call clicks off. Blue eyes swerve to the other Todd, relief mixed with confusion over what exactly to do. ]
So ... You'll be needing a place to stay while we figure this out, I guess.
[ As if Jason hasn't been threatening to shoot him point-blank all night. ]
{ His eyes widen hearing his own fucking voice on the other end of the line. He furrows his brow at the new discovery.
This was definitely gonna be complicated.
He breaks the eye-contact, suddenly unsure. As much as he hates the thought, Dick might be his best bet here. He'd need someone to help him out with some things he wouldn't be able to access without causing a mess. The thought of fighting or even killing himself is scary on a whole other level.
He finally holsters his gun, feeling like an idiot. He remembers that he doesn't have a reason to hate Dick so much he wants to kill him.
Then he sees the amount of relief in the other man's annoyingly expressive eyes when realizing his other self is safe, and a spark of something shoots through Jason.
There are spare wooden boards in the corner along with a toolbox. Patch up the window while I fix us something to eat, otherwise we'll both be freezing as well as weirded out tonight.
I think we could both do with a hot meal.
[ He tosses his mask onto a table, purposefully making a show of how unthreatened he is by peeling off the upper half of his suit and heading to the kitchenette. The loft doesn't have many walls, all the better for Jason to watch Dick. ]
[ He decides to do what he's told, begrudgingly. He could use something to eat after this disaster of a week, other than instant noodles or cold pizza.
Jason doesn't move until the other man turns to leave the room though, preferring to watch him leave in order to feel somewhat safe to turn his back on him. Just because Dick was dumb enough to trust him, doesn't mean he would do the same so quickly.
Dick stripping off his upper suit half doesn't go unnoticed though. The amount of trust would be cute, if not fucking naive.
Jason turns to fix up the window, constantly shooting Dick a curious look. He was glad for the apartment that barely allowed privacy except for being at the very top of the whole complex. He'd make sure his would-be brother wouldn't try and drug him.
When he finishes, Jason stalks towards the kitchen, sitting as far away from the man as he possibly could, not even thinking of removing his gloves, boots, armor or anything really. ]
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Re: ( for ak!jay )
No, he also got kicked in the face by Bruce. Bruce . Bruce who he had revealed his identity to a few months back. Bruce who had died, or faked his death like a Bat would. Bruce who had been oh so sorry for what had happened to Jason, just seemed to have forgotten about it and kicked him in the fucking face like he was some lowlife mugger in an alley.
It had ended in Jason disappearing into one of his safe-houses to investigate the comeback of the Bat, but -- not a single entry could be found. In fact he - apparently - never even died.
In fact, Jason, the Arkham Knight, didn't even fucking exist. His crusade. His work. His life. For nothing?
It's because of this that, the next day, Jason finds himself investigating his so-called family even more, finding nothing that'd help understand the situation. He needs answers, answers he's not gonna get from the Bat. He'd never think of approaching his replacement, too sure he'd shoot him right away. Barbara must be with the replacement 24/7 due to being his fiancee, so she was a no-go as well. Who better to approach then his favorite big poser of a brother then?
By now Jason finds himself on top of Dick's apartment, more anxious than he'd ever admit, because well -- he hadn't faced the man ever since the Joker took him all these years back. He swallows the feeling when he hears Dick calling out to the intruder. Huh.
A sudden wave of anger shoots through Jason, both caused by last night's events as well as his "brother's" annoying confidence, and he snaps.
Jason, now calling himself the Red Hood, walks towards the edge of the roof and jumps, holding on to the building as he kicks in the window, landing on one knee in the middle of the room where a certain bird stands, threatening him.
Jason looks up at him and rises slowly, fingers aching to grab his guns, but he's more curious about the other man's reaction to him in the first place. Besides, he doesn't feel threatened by a messily clothed, barely prepped circus freak. ]
Am I late for your yoga class, Mr. Grayson?
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... Jason?
[ Despite the melodramatic entry, the tension in Dick's shoulders eases and he straightens from a defensive crouch, glancing between Jason and his now shattered window. Quite aside from taking Jason as a threat seriously, Dick plants a hand on a hip and gestures to all the glass on the floor. ]
You know, I have a door to my actual home, which this happens to be! What's gotten into you? This had better be urgent.
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He shouldn't be surprised given the situation, but-- he couldn't help it. It pissed him off. Dick was one of the people who let him down, and he was fucking pissed at the man, and he wasn't even supposed to know Jason was alive! Yet he stands there, like it was no surprise, like he saw him just the other day. That was wrong. It was so, so wrong.
Jason scoffs and doesn't even care about Dick going off about the windows. He is visibly tense and says, voice on the verge of turning into something vile, ]
When did you find out it's me? And why is he still alive?
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No offense but the red hood kind of gives it away, Red Hood. Who are you talking about? Jay, take off the helmet.
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He widens his eyes for a second, right before gritting his teeth at the thought.
Dick had never seen him. Never seen his face, and even if, for some reason, he knew who he was - that didn't fucking mean Jason was anything close to ready for that. Not now. Not with -- with the scar.
He reaches for his gun and points it at the other man, voice still low behind the distortion, ]
What happened to the Arkham Knight, Dick? What happened to me?!
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[ Tensing up under gunpoint, he slowly sheathes an escrima stick and holds out a hand as if to calm Jason down. The other man hasn't been this bad in years, it's unnerving to see that sort of regression. More so than the gun pointed at his face, in a way. ]
I don't know who the Arkham Knight is, you're going to use your words instead of guns. What do you think has happened to you, Jay? Can you tell me?
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Should he leave and keep investigating? A good idea, but it wouldn't help him at all. His best chance at finding out what the hell was going on was Dick, and the man was right. Killing or hurting him won't do that job. Not completely, at least.
But how would he start? How would he explain what he'd achieved in one sentence?
He reluctantly lowers the gun, but his grip on it tightens and he doesn't holster it yet. Instead he takes a step towards the man, wildly gesturing with the gun in hand; ]
I was the Knight. I took over Gotham! Bruce died! After he left me to die at the hands of the Joker!
[ He feels himself begin to shake just slightly. Saying all that, it made him... vulnerable. ]
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Dick peels off his mask to toss it aside, wide blue eyes on Jason. Noticing the tremors in that bulk. Tim or Damian would have preferred to knock Jason out and lock him in the Batcave (and they would have been right to, like this they're no match for him) but Dick doesn't want to fail him again. It's almost a personal bar of integrity not to, these days. ]
It's going to be okay, Jason. I promise. We can stay here for as long as you need, just the two of us. Me and you.
Tell me, do you know how you got to Bludhaven?
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The man had no idea what he was talking about, that much was sure. But being caught in this situation makes him nervous, big time. He isn't sure if he lost or gained more in this.
Jason takes a breath and steps back, hesitating. He starts to pace in the room, thinking, before coming to a stop several feet away from the other. ]
No. No, it's your turn now. Tell me who I am. Tell me!
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You're Jason Todd, son of Bruce Wayne, the Red Hood of the Outlaws. You're my little brother, [ Jason can do cartwheels over that but Dick doesn't care, he means it, ] the second robin ... and you died when the Joker kidnapped you, but you came back to us. You're part of the family.
That's the Jason I know, but I think we've got some issues with time and space right now. I'll have to call Wally to figure this out. Will you let me do that?
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He stops, just looking at the man. What he says is wrong on so many levels. It's just not what fucking happened! ]
No. No, that's not who I am! You have no fucking idea! Just like Bruce!
[ It does make sense, though. Jason just doesn't like the idea of it.
Once the other man says he'd have to call a speedster, Jason aims his gun at him again. In a low tone; ]
No. You ain't gonna call no one. You and I are gonna have a talk now, Dickie. Alone.
[ He moves fast and closes all the (remaining) windows, then shuts all the blinds.
He turns to the other vigilante and uses his gun-hand to point at a nearby chair. He'd have to make sure Dick wouldn't make a dumb move and tie him. ]
Sit down. Put the weapons down and kick them towards me.
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You're not going to shoot me, Jason.
[ He can force himself to believe that if necessary. If he's wrong, well ... Dick's fast. ]
We're both confused right now, so let's sit down and talk. I'm not putting my weapons away when my potential opponent is a guy with guns, you know I won't. Please. Please, just trust me.
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[ He spits, gun still aimed at his opponent. ]
Why should I trust you?
[ Jason scoffs, the anger within just rising. He can't and won't, too much has happened, too much seems to be lost to just calm down.
You don't know me,
[ he growls, not hesitating when he shoots a round just inches away from Dick, hitting a nearby lamp. ]
You have no fucking idea what I'm capable of. So do yourself the favor and sit the fuck down.
[ His stance is tense, his voice just above a whisper. ]
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Mutinously, he adds in an undertone. ]
Told you, you wouldn't shoot me. [ And he waits, staring across the room with blue eyes locked on with lasers. ] I know you better than you think, Jason, no matter where you came from.
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He immediately approaches the other man and uses his knife to cut off the broken lamp's power cord. He then ties Dick's wrists behind his back, abandoning his sticks on the bed several feet away from them.
When he's done, Jason grabs another chair and places it in front of his brother's, its backrest fronting the man as Jason sits down on it. ]
You think you know me?
[ he asks, fingers tightening around the handle of his gun.
He then moves his one hand to turn off his helmet's security, barely thinking when slowly taking it off to reveal venomous green eyes and an ugly, J-shaped scar on his left cheek. ]
You're wrong, Dick. If you really did, you would've run.
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[ If Jason thinks that assaulting the poor lamp and tying Dick up in his own apartment is a good idea, he's too stressed to be thinking things through. What he wants is the veneer of control, he has to be reassuring himself Dick isn't a threat for some reason other than the usual ...
That reason becomes clear as the hood is removed, leaving a scarred, harsher version of the Jason he knows glaring back at him. Sympathy fills Dick from head to toe, leaning forward despite the snarled threats. Jason looks like a battered dog off the streets. ]
What happened to you, Jay?
no subject
You mean like you left me behind, Dick? Like you all left me to rot in Arkham?
[ He understands that this might not be his reality, but he can't help it. Jason feels as if he might be able to make things right other than destroying Gotham City, if only his emotions wouldn't get in the way.
His voice is low when he speaks, getting louder with every sentence, eyes directed at the other's; ]
The Joker took me is what happened. You and Bruce didn't give a shit is what happened. You left me to be tortured and broken! For over a year! With him.
[ Dick leaning in isn't expected; but Jason mimics the gesture if only to intimidate him. ]
You replaced me is what fucking happened! And now you claim you know and care for me? Well, fuck! Found the mistake yet?
[ He sighs after that and backs off again. That's really not what he should worry about now. What was his goal here anyway? But Dick makes it so fucking hard to not get angry with his-- his stupid face and his stupid eyes pretending to be concerned. ]
no subject
No wonder you hate us.
[ Dick's gaze drops as he shakes his head, glancing up with the borrowed shame he's sure his alternate feels. ]
... I'm so sorry, Jason. I'm not the Dick you know, but I'd bet on him hating himself too for letting that happen to you.
no subject
It was still you. [ His voice dropped once again, leaving him with nothing but desperation and confusion.
What follows is a stretched silence from his end, eyes moving across the whole room.
So if this is some sort of situation where he got out of his own reality and into this new one, what does that mean?
Can he get back? Is there another him? Does he want to get back?
Thoughts flood his mind, thoughts that both relief and infuriate him. For one it means that he never hurt the people he cares for like he did. Maybe it means that he has a family. It could mean that he could start over.
On the other hand, all his work would be lost. The years he trained, the sacrifices he made to achieve his plan. All the agony he went through, all the torture, for nothing. No one would remember him as the person he used to be. And he especially would have no right to hate his "family" like he does. It could also mean that he was still alive, which made Jason's jaw tense so much it hurt.
He can't deal with any of this. Having Dick tied up doesn't help his cause. Being mad at him doesn't help either. But Jason just really, really couldn't help himself. ]
What happened here, then? Is the Joker still alive? Am-- am I?
no subject
Oh my god, I should check he's still here. What if you switched? Jason, untie me right now, I have to make a call.
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He inhales a deep, exasperated breath and takes his time to let it out again. ]
Fine.
[ He gets up and unties the other man by cutting his restrains with the help of his knife, his other fingers still tightly wrapped around his gun. The nervousness increases. He felt trapped in this rollercoaster of emotions. ]
no subject
What do you want, Dickard?
Jay. Thank God, uh. Hi? Are you ... okay?
Is this a social call, Dick, or do you actually want something? Because I'm busy right now -
Social call! Sorry. We'll catch up tomorrow, yeah? My bad!
You're the worst.
[ The call clicks off. Blue eyes swerve to the other Todd, relief mixed with confusion over what exactly to do. ]
So ... You'll be needing a place to stay while we figure this out, I guess.
[ As if Jason hasn't been threatening to shoot him point-blank all night. ]
no subject
This was definitely gonna be complicated.
He breaks the eye-contact, suddenly unsure. As much as he hates the thought, Dick might be his best bet here. He'd need someone to help him out with some things he wouldn't be able to access without causing a mess. The thought of fighting or even killing himself is scary on a whole other level.
He finally holsters his gun, feeling like an idiot. He remembers that he doesn't have a reason to hate Dick so much he wants to kill him.
Then he sees the amount of relief in the other man's annoyingly expressive eyes when realizing his other self is safe, and a spark of something shoots through Jason.
Definitely not jealousy or anything. ]
... Not sorry about the window, though.
no subject
There are spare wooden boards in the corner along with a toolbox. Patch up the window while I fix us something to eat, otherwise we'll both be freezing as well as weirded out tonight.
I think we could both do with a hot meal.
[ He tosses his mask onto a table, purposefully making a show of how unthreatened he is by peeling off the upper half of his suit and heading to the kitchenette. The loft doesn't have many walls, all the better for Jason to watch Dick. ]
no subject
Jason doesn't move until the other man turns to leave the room though, preferring to watch him leave in order to feel somewhat safe to turn his back on him. Just because Dick was dumb enough to trust him, doesn't mean he would do the same so quickly.
Dick stripping off his upper suit half doesn't go unnoticed though. The amount of trust would be cute, if not fucking naive.
Jason turns to fix up the window, constantly shooting Dick a curious look. He was glad for the apartment that barely allowed privacy except for being at the very top of the whole complex. He'd make sure his would-be brother wouldn't try and drug him.
When he finishes, Jason stalks towards the kitchen, sitting as far away from the man as he possibly could, not even thinking of removing his gloves, boots, armor or anything really. ]
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sorry i'm late, i got swamped irl!
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