[Since gaining a new name, earning the new gig, Jason has been tentatively more happy about where he's ended up. However, he knows that at any moment this could all be taken away from him, so he keeps his doubts to himself. He's on his way to drop in on Bruce-- to talk costume ideas, masks, gear-- and is once more at the base of Wayne Tower.
It still looks a bit too much like Titan Tower for his comfort, but right now he's got to ignore that.
He buzzes to be let up, offering,] Hey, it's Jason. Wanna talk about some stuff.
( For a long moment, there's no reply that comes from the Tower. No indication that Bruce is even there. Just silence. It's only after it seems far longer than it should take for any sort of sign of life to be shown that the entrance is unlocked and the elevator is there for him.
Bruce, however, doesn't answer.
The penthouseβ well. The living area of it, anyways, looks as though a storm had ripped through it. Things knocked and broken on the floor, the large table shoved to the other side of the room, a bookcase tipped over, shards of glass and books and papers strewn about across the floor. It would be best Jason take care with where he walks, Bruce not having bothered to clean any of it up.
And as for Bruce, he's very much there in the penthouse β had been in and out of some sort of attempt at sleep when his laptop had informed him of somewhere there at the entrance and, after a long moment of just staring at it, cheek pressed to his pillow, he had opted to let Jason in. )
[Huh. Bruce must not be in. Jason huffs at himself, annoyed that he just assumed Bruce would be at the Tower and not, well, living his life. Stupid. Just stupid. There's more people in Bruce's universe than some teenage drop-out with a shitty idea. Just as he steps away from the buzzer, the elevator comes down and Jason frowns for an entirely different reason.
The penthouse looks like a bomb went off and immediately Jason's mind fills with robbery and possibly robbery gone bad. His eyes scan the room, realize there's still valuables in place and shifts his mind to thinking about a staged robbery gone bad.]
Bruce? [Jason calls out as he does the opposite of floor is lava, stepping here and there where he can see the floor. He doesn't see blood, but that doesn't mean anything right now.] Bruce?
( It takes him a bit to even want to move when he hears the elevator return, but it's when Jason starts calling out for him that he finds the strength within him to slowly push himself up on the bed and he... regrets it. Immediately. Head pounding. Thankfully, the drapes are drawn shut and the room is more or less nothing but darkness, save for the soft glow from his laptop a little ways from him, but. Doesn't help the temporary sense of vertigo hitting him alongside the headache.
Pills. He just needs some pills and water.
He drags himself off the bed β takes a moment to hold his head between his hands β then slowly gets himself up and makes his way to the doors of his room, gently pushing them open to make his way for the top of the stairs. Steps are slow. Lazy. Feet bare and sticking to the flooring as he goes, he stops the moment he reaches the top of the stairs to look down to where Jason is and he looks... beyond disheveled. )
Jason stares at the extremely disheveled Bruce and for a moment he's teleported back to his Gotham. He takes a mental step back, remembering what Leslie said about grounding and forcing himself to utilize it now. He's not back in Gotham, he's in Etraya. He opens his mouth to say something, anything and finds no words that would even scale the Everest that is level of uncomfortable.]
I-- Just--
[His feet are firmly anchored among a pile of books, so he steps out of them and onto steady ground.]
( Yet itβs said with little to no emotion. Coming down the stairs, he does so slowly, gaze cast downwards, ignoring the mess around. Everything about him is lethargic and justβ¦ in a way that isnβt how he usually is. While he can be quiet and not as talkative when in the company of others, something about this feels different. Feelsβ¦ somber. )
My head hurts.
( He offers softly then when he gets to the bottom of the stairs. Standing there, he stares off for a long moment, particularly to one of the large windows across the room before heβs looking back to Jason. )
[Jason picks his way across the mess, trying to ignore the windows and the sensation of falling they bring. He turns his attention back to Bruce and tries not to feel the weight of a situation he clearly doesn't understand.]
I'm good.
[He looks around again, his eyes catching for a moment on the windows again before he centers on Bruce.]
( The word is soft much like his movements are and heβs standing there. Staring. At nothing in particular. Itβs only after a moment that he forces himself to look back to Jason. )
I need to get some aspirin.
( At that, he slowly starts to make his way for the kitchen, figuring Jason is likely to follow, still ignoring the mess around as he goes. Heβs hoping he still has a bottle of something in there that might help with this headache. Although, thereβs also the very real chance of it doing absolutely nothing and leaving him forced to endure the pounding of his head.
Reaching for the fridge door, he pulls out a bottle of water, sets it on the counter, then looks around in various drawers in search of a painkiller. )
[Jason watches, baffled as Bruce moves through the space without so much as a note on the mess. Of course, Jason follows him, though he takes an arc around one of the windows on the way.
Except when they reach the kitchen, he realizes what's so uncomfortable about Bruce's behavior. It takes him back to when his parents were still alive, when his mom would wake up from a near overdose. She'd pretend nothing happened, that she was barefoot in an apartment so poorly maintained that their power was out more often than not. He looks up at Bruce and sees her instead, weeks or maybe days before her final overdose.
Fuck. He is not doing this again.]
Don't. [He presses his lips into a thin line.] Don't lie to me.
( Don't lie to me, Jason says and it's enough for Bruce to pause his searching for aspirin. From the looks of it anyways, he probably doesn't have any.
He licks over his lips β slowly closes the one cupboard door and stares to it in silence, fingers lingering on the handle. Strange how familiar the wood is to him and yet, at the same time, it's simply a mere copy of his actual home back in his Gotham. The bots certainly did a good job though.
When he lets his fingers drop away, his gaze remains on the cupboard door. )
Damian quit being Robin.
( He gives himself a second, takes a breath. )
Then he disappeared. Only to reappear... younger. ( He looks down then and his voice is soft. ) He doesn't remember me. Or being here.
[Jason realizes he's probably far too late that he might have overstepped a line. He watches as the vision of his mother fades away, leaving just Bruce behind. Bruce, who looks like he just walked out of an overdose. When Bruce speaks, though, Jason sucks in a breath.
He doesn't know anything about Damian and Bruce's relationship, but based on this reaction, they must have been close. Jason's shoulders sag before he nods.]
I'm sorry. [He doesn't have much of an idea of what it's like to be forgotten, but he knows what it's like to feel that way.]
( I need you, Jason says, and Bruce stands there. Silent. Looking over to him then with glassy eyes that could very well hold the threat of tears within them. He won't let them fall. They already have, when he'd told Damian to leave the moment he figured out what had happened and had let his rage and heartache be taken out on the penthouse.
Instead, he licks over his lips and looks down to the counter, breath soft and a little shaky, eyes coming to fall shut then. )
I'm not the Batman everyone here knows or respects.
( Eyes still shut, he stands there at the counter, palms flat against it, supporting his weight some and it's only after a moment that he comes to look over to Jason then, still with a degree of pain there in his blue eyes. )
[Jason, once again, is very aware of how he's pressing, how close he likely is to breaking the trust they've built. Usually, it's the other way around-- Bruce testing Jason's boundaries-- but that doesn't make it any less scary for Jason.]
I can do that.
[Jason nods firmly, watching Bruce.]
I can be back in the room I stayed in before or. I mean. We could park it in front of the TV and see if this place has a bad movies channel.
( It's something as opposed to his usual answer of silence or a look. Then again, he's beyond emotionally exhausted and still spiraling into whatever depression he's found himself in now. Jason staying the night is, perhaps, some attempt on his end to not completely slip beneath the waves of depression that are drowning him. At least not yet.
Swallowing thickly, he shakes his head, eyes shut. )
I, uh... I don't have much to eat here. I don't think.
( The past few days have been a blur to him, needless to say. )
That's cool, I always keep sandwiches in my bag. [Jason has yet to put down roots in any specific apartment, so he tends to keep non-perishable foods with him in his pack.] Or I also got instant noodles.
[Probably not the best meal for someone who looks as beat up and miserable as Bruce, but it's the best Jason can do while not letting the other out of his sight.]
Here.
[Jason realizes he never took off his pack, what with the whole suspecting a robbery thing. He tugs one strap off and then the other before he squats down to unzip one of the pockets to pull out a chicken salad sandwich and a packet of chicken-flavored instant noodles. He tosses both at Bruce, one after the other.]
( Rather than catch them, they simply smack Bruce in the chest and shoulder and fall to the ground, the man staring down to them slowly before he's looking back up to Jason. At that moment, there's a meow that comes from behind Jason and, waltzing their way in, is a black cat with white paws and chest. Alfred The Cat... Damian's cat. )
Once Jason moves through that sensation of looking at his mom again, he turns slowly to look at the cat. Jason isn't exactly an animal person, despite being much like a stray cat himself.]
Yeah well it's not getting any.
[Jason scurries over to pick up both packages and thrust them into Bruce's chest, holding them there until there is at least an attempt on Bruce's part to keep them from falling on the floor again.]
( Another meow, he looks past Jason to the cat β to Damian's cat he doesn't remember and then slowly takes the food items in hand, setting them on the counter. Slowly, he makes his way for where the tins of cat food are and pops one open, setting it down for Alfred The Cat to enjoy. )
His name's Alfred. ( A beat. ) He's Damian's but he doesn't remember him.
[Alfred. Jason swallows down the instinct to shudder, to not remember the way four of them stood around the grave as the box containing Alfred's body was lowered into the ground.
( Something he hadn't wanted to be reality when he'd seen him so much smaller than he was the last time they'd been together, but. Part of him knew... of course he did. He simply hadn't wanted to accept it could be such a thing. Not when he'd spent over a year living with and getting to know him. For it to all be simply gone now... while he has to live with the memories... maybe that's just how his life it meant to be with others.
The last one standing. Alone. )
People disappear from here. Sometimes return. I guess this happens, too.
[Sorry, Bruce, if you're expecting some kind of gentleness here. The last thing he ever wanted to hear was the possibility of going back home and then coming back here. That's even shittier than just going home.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action (tower)
It still looks a bit too much like Titan Tower for his comfort, but right now he's got to ignore that.
He buzzes to be let up, offering,] Hey, it's Jason. Wanna talk about some stuff.
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Bruce, however, doesn't answer.
The penthouseβ well. The living area of it, anyways, looks as though a storm had ripped through it. Things knocked and broken on the floor, the large table shoved to the other side of the room, a bookcase tipped over, shards of glass and books and papers strewn about across the floor. It would be best Jason take care with where he walks, Bruce not having bothered to clean any of it up.
And as for Bruce, he's very much there in the penthouse β had been in and out of some sort of attempt at sleep when his laptop had informed him of somewhere there at the entrance and, after a long moment of just staring at it, cheek pressed to his pillow, he had opted to let Jason in. )
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The penthouse looks like a bomb went off and immediately Jason's mind fills with robbery and possibly robbery gone bad. His eyes scan the room, realize there's still valuables in place and shifts his mind to thinking about a staged robbery gone bad.]
Bruce? [Jason calls out as he does the opposite of floor is lava, stepping here and there where he can see the floor. He doesn't see blood, but that doesn't mean anything right now.] Bruce?
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Pills. He just needs some pills and water.
He drags himself off the bed β takes a moment to hold his head between his hands β then slowly gets himself up and makes his way to the doors of his room, gently pushing them open to make his way for the top of the stairs. Steps are slow. Lazy. Feet bare and sticking to the flooring as he goes, he stops the moment he reaches the top of the stairs to look down to where Jason is and he looks... beyond disheveled. )
What's wrong?
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Jason stares at the extremely disheveled Bruce and for a moment he's teleported back to his Gotham. He takes a mental step back, remembering what Leslie said about grounding and forcing himself to utilize it now. He's not back in Gotham, he's in Etraya. He opens his mouth to say something, anything and finds no words that would even scale the Everest that is level of uncomfortable.]
I-- Just--
[His feet are firmly anchored among a pile of books, so he steps out of them and onto steady ground.]
Are you-- are you okay?
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( Yet itβs said with little to no emotion. Coming down the stairs, he does so slowly, gaze cast downwards, ignoring the mess around. Everything about him is lethargic and justβ¦ in a way that isnβt how he usually is. While he can be quiet and not as talkative when in the company of others, something about this feels different. Feelsβ¦ somber. )
My head hurts.
( He offers softly then when he gets to the bottom of the stairs. Standing there, he stares off for a long moment, particularly to one of the large windows across the room before heβs looking back to Jason. )
Are you ok?
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[Jason picks his way across the mess, trying to ignore the windows and the sensation of falling they bring. He turns his attention back to Bruce and tries not to feel the weight of a situation he clearly doesn't understand.]
I'm good.
[He looks around again, his eyes catching for a moment on the windows again before he centers on Bruce.]
Did someone rob you?
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( The word is soft much like his movements are and heβs standing there. Staring. At nothing in particular. Itβs only after a moment that he forces himself to look back to Jason. )
I need to get some aspirin.
( At that, he slowly starts to make his way for the kitchen, figuring Jason is likely to follow, still ignoring the mess around as he goes. Heβs hoping he still has a bottle of something in there that might help with this headache. Although, thereβs also the very real chance of it doing absolutely nothing and leaving him forced to endure the pounding of his head.
Reaching for the fridge door, he pulls out a bottle of water, sets it on the counter, then looks around in various drawers in search of a painkiller. )
cw: drugs
Except when they reach the kitchen, he realizes what's so uncomfortable about Bruce's behavior. It takes him back to when his parents were still alive, when his mom would wake up from a near overdose. She'd pretend nothing happened, that she was barefoot in an apartment so poorly maintained that their power was out more often than not. He looks up at Bruce and sees her instead, weeks or maybe days before her final overdose.
Fuck. He is not doing this again.]
Don't. [He presses his lips into a thin line.] Don't lie to me.
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He licks over his lips β slowly closes the one cupboard door and stares to it in silence, fingers lingering on the handle. Strange how familiar the wood is to him and yet, at the same time, it's simply a mere copy of his actual home back in his Gotham. The bots certainly did a good job though.
When he lets his fingers drop away, his gaze remains on the cupboard door. )
Damian quit being Robin.
( He gives himself a second, takes a breath. )
Then he disappeared. Only to reappear... younger. ( He looks down then and his voice is soft. ) He doesn't remember me. Or being here.
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He doesn't know anything about Damian and Bruce's relationship, but based on this reaction, they must have been close. Jason's shoulders sag before he nods.]
I'm sorry. [He doesn't have much of an idea of what it's like to be forgotten, but he knows what it's like to feel that way.]
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I don't think I'm cut out for this. This isn't Gotham. I'm not needed here.
( As Batman or Bruce Wayne. )
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[Jason admits quietly, still watching Bruce. The mention of being needed strikes Jason to the core.]
I need you.
[His voice gets quieter.]
If you give up, then I donβt know how Iβm gonna do this.
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Instead, he licks over his lips and looks down to the counter, breath soft and a little shaky, eyes coming to fall shut then. )
I'm not the Batman everyone here knows or respects.
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[Jason replies sharply.]
You think I respect the guy who took everything away from me?
[Jason grits his teeth and shakes his head.]
Or that anyone here thinks Iβm who Iβm supposed to be?
[Jason shakes his head again. His mind replays the last conversation with his Bruce before he sighs.]
Please donβt push me away.
[If heβs pushed away now, Jason might not ever come back.]
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Can you stay here tonight?
( Not often a thing he asks of anyone ever. )
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I can do that.
[Jason nods firmly, watching Bruce.]
I can be back in the room I stayed in before or. I mean. We could park it in front of the TV and see if this place has a bad movies channel.
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( It's something as opposed to his usual answer of silence or a look. Then again, he's beyond emotionally exhausted and still spiraling into whatever depression he's found himself in now. Jason staying the night is, perhaps, some attempt on his end to not completely slip beneath the waves of depression that are drowning him. At least not yet.
Swallowing thickly, he shakes his head, eyes shut. )
I, uh... I don't have much to eat here. I don't think.
( The past few days have been a blur to him, needless to say. )
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[Probably not the best meal for someone who looks as beat up and miserable as Bruce, but it's the best Jason can do while not letting the other out of his sight.]
Here.
[Jason realizes he never took off his pack, what with the whole suspecting a robbery thing. He tugs one strap off and then the other before he squats down to unzip one of the pockets to pull out a chicken salad sandwich and a packet of chicken-flavored instant noodles. He tosses both at Bruce, one after the other.]
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Probably smelled the chicken.
LMAO OH MY GOD BRUCE
Once Jason moves through that sensation of looking at his mom again, he turns slowly to look at the cat. Jason isn't exactly an animal person, despite being much like a stray cat himself.]
Yeah well it's not getting any.
[Jason scurries over to pick up both packages and thrust them into Bruce's chest, holding them there until there is at least an attempt on Bruce's part to keep them from falling on the floor again.]
π
His name's Alfred. ( A beat. ) He's Damian's but he doesn't remember him.
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He comes back to reality a few moments later.]
He doesn't remember anything?
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( Something he hadn't wanted to be reality when he'd seen him so much smaller than he was the last time they'd been together, but. Part of him knew... of course he did. He simply hadn't wanted to accept it could be such a thing. Not when he'd spent over a year living with and getting to know him. For it to all be simply gone now... while he has to live with the memories... maybe that's just how his life it meant to be with others.
The last one standing. Alone. )
People disappear from here. Sometimes return. I guess this happens, too.
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[Sorry, Bruce, if you're expecting some kind of gentleness here. The last thing he ever wanted to hear was the possibility of going back home and then coming back here. That's even shittier than just going home.]
Does this happen a lot?
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