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( Superboy. He... doesn't think that's the Jon Damian knows, but. Maybe he's wrong. It's not as though Robin is a thing back in his Gotham. Yet? Ever? He doesn't know. )

They seem to have that ability.

( The Supers, he means. Though he can really only go off Clark. )

I took an arrow for Clark here once.

( He shrugs, finishing off his pizza. )

Do you still have those nightmares here?

If I say yes are you going to fire me? Go fly off to London and treat me like some dog that needs to be told not to shit on the carpet?

[Most if not all of that is not meant for this Bruce but Jason needs to get it out.]

( With his slice finished, he goes about taking a long sip from his iced tea — sets the empty glass down — hands coming to rest flat on the counter there as he looks to Jason. )

I have them, too. I always do.

( Nightmares, he means. )

[That takes Jason by surprise. He blinks at Bruce and the door is open ever so slightly. His Bruce would never admit to a vulnerability.]

You do?

Yeah.

( It’s said looking down — taking a moment to lick over his lips before he’s looking back up and across the kitchen some. Most nights he pushes himself to the point of breaking so as to simply pass out in bed and not even allow his mind to weave dreams together. It’s easier that way. Dreams, even when sweet, he finds to be cruel. )

I want to say they’ll go away or get better in time, but. Hasn’t been the case for me.

[Jason is quiet, but not the sort of angry quiet be usually fell into. This quiet is thoughtful, almost respectful.]

I was looking for an antidote to fear back home. To chase the nightmares away. Started working with…

[Jason silences himself and he takes a breath.]

We got really close before I came here. Really fucking close.

[And for some reason, that’s when the dam breaks. Jason covers his face as the tears begin.]

I hate it here.

( He wants to tell him that fear doesn’t need an antidote — that it’s a tool one can both master and overcome in their life. He likes to think he’s done such a thing, but. After what had happened with Riddler — when he had thought he had lost Alfred because of his not being there… not being good enough… that fear had nearly swallowed him whole, spared only by anger being a touch more stronger in the moment.

He wants to tell him and yet, before he can, Jason’s covering his face with his hands and he knows the other is breaking down. He’s been there himself — how eerie it is to see reflected back at him, as if looking into a mirror. Maybe it’s why he feels the need to be there for Jason — to try and mend whatever heartache he’s carrying within him. Or at least, give him some form of support to make it easier to swim through when the dam finally breaks. Because it will and it does, even for him.

Gently, he places a hand on Jason’s shoulder and, a second or two later, if Jason allows it, he’ll pull him in close and hold him there, wrapped in arms that are meant to be protective. Quiet. Simply being a pillar of support for him. Simply being there. )

[Jason feels like he's caught in an eddy, like a branch caught in helical, tumbling waters. He's been unseated from any kind of support long before he arrived in Etraya and feeling decidedly unwelcome nearly every day he's been here doesn't help. He usually allows his temper to talk, to push people away, but right now he's just a scared kid.

A very lonely kid.

His Bruce never hugged him. In fact, Jason can't remember the last time he was hugged besides Rose and she broke up with him. He's been yelled at, blamed for things outside of his power, fired, treated like a nuisance, and Jason is done. He's done.

Against his better judgement, Jason leans in and allows this Bruce to hug him and hold him close as he cries, to be a life ring in the storm.]

( Jason doesn't pull away and he takes that as this being the right thing to do — as being the thing Jason maybe needs for the moment. So he stands there. Quiet. One hand resting against the other's shoulder blade, while the other gently touches to the back of his head. Letting him feel what he needs to feel. Being here for him, for as long as he might need. It's just them after all. )

I got you.

( Words soft as he says them to Jason. )

[Jason hasn't cried like this since Rose broke up with him. He's been internalizing and compartmentalizing for so long and it's now too much. He's never cried in front of any version of Bruce and doing so now makes him feel foolish and vulnerable, but he doesn't hear any judgment.

He lets it pour out of him, lets the wounds be lanced and drained, and soon Jason is quiet again. He leans back, wipes at his eyes.]

Sorry. I... [His shoulders sag.] I think I'm just tired of all of it.

[Feeling that he needs to hide rather than seek security. The constant blow ups with the older Bruce. Sensing that he is unwanted, most of all.]

( He lets Jason set the pace — lets him pull away when he needs to, but doesn't step away from him. He lingers there and will only drop his hands away when he completely pulls away from him. )

If you want to stay here for the night, you can.

( As before, his words are soft, the offer made and left for Jason to either accept or decline. Either way, whatever he wants, Bruce will go along with it. )

[Jason honestly hates moving around so much, never finding a steady place to settle and call home. However, he feels he must with all the Bats breathing down his neck.

But maybe just for one night, Jason can let himself belong, even if the fear of rejection is so terrifying it chokes him. He watches Bruce for a moment before nodding.]

Just for tonight.

[Jason wipes at his face with the collar of his black hood.]

Edited 2025-06-19 22:17 (UTC)

If that's what you want.

( Because he's not about to push him into doing anything he doesn't want to. The fact that he's even here to begin with says something, so. Pushing his luck just seems detrimental to whatever it is they're trying to find here between them. )

There's a spare room. I can, uh... get you stuff. ( A beat. ) Towels and things, if you need them.

[Jason closes the lid on the pizza and looks up at Bruce. He’s honestly overdue for a shower and he’s looking a bit scrappy.]

I could use a towel. If you’ve got one.

Yeah. I should.

( How embarrassing would it be if he didn't? )

You want me to show you the room?

[And this is when Jason becomes earnestly nervous. He's taking a huge risk letting Bruce in like this, being vulnerable like this. He looks over at Bruce with poorly-hidden fear written all over his face. Will this room look like Titans Tower? Or perhaps the Manor?

Will he continue to have nightmares?

Jason is always quietly aware of how high they are off the ground.]

Yeah. Sure. Lead the way.

It's not far from mine. If you need anything.

( Or he needs him, even just to be a quiet presence.

But he leads Jason throughout the penthouse atop Wayne Tower — ignores the room they pass with the double doors that are chained shut — and when he takes him to the room, it's sizable, even if it's intended to be more of a guest room. As expected with the Waynes really. The decor and architecture is much like the rest of the place in that it's quite gothic. Dark.

Standing there, hands in his pockets, he looks around. There's a bed, a private bathroom, dresser and couch to sit on. Windows, of course. Drapes pulled back with only the slightest touch of light coming through. It's dimly lit with the soft lamp in the room and he looks over to Jason then. )

Hopefully this is ok.

[The architecture reminds him more of the Manor, but it isn't quite uncanny valley yet. Jason holds his towel close to his chest as his gaze flicks around for any sign of danger. As he steps into the room, Jason is grateful for the drapes pulled shut. It should keep him from realizing how far up they are or seeing the hallucination of stories passing him as he falls.

He looks back to Bruce and nods, taking the time to think of his words (for once).]

Just tonight. [Jason repeats his earlier sentiment.] Only tonight.

( Blue eyes stare to the young man there. Stoic. Still. Hands still in his pockets. He's letting Jason call the shots here for a few reasons. So when he makes it a point of bringing up that he intends to stay just for this night and only this night, he can only nod to him, slow as it is. )

If that's what you want.

( With that said, he turns some — pauses — and looks back to him there in the doorway. )

I'll see you later then.

[Jason is stiff with fear, but he nods to Bruce all the same. Just one night. He can do this. He'll be gone before morning.]

Yeah, later.

[After Bruce leaves, Jason takes full advantage of the shower to help calm him down. The water running down his back helps to relax him and he has really needed a shower. He doesn't have room in his bag for shower supplies so moving around a lot means very few chances to wash up. He changes into black beater and sweatpants and settles into bed, feeling much calmer about the whole situation. It takes him longer than usual, but eventually Jason settles in to sleep.

However, his blissful, empty sleep doesn't last long. It doesn't take much time for him to find himself in a dream about a building under construction. He realizes exactly where he is in a moment and what's about to happen to him. And still he watches it play out as he struggles against his bindings. There's a fight, but it doesn't matter. Deathstroke presses down on an ignitor and the window washer's basket drops out beneath him. His stomach lurches as he reaches out into the darkness and his hands barely find purchase on the building. Dick is there, but this time not to help him.

He curls his fingers around Jason's wrists and fling them off the building.

Jason screams the whole way down, watching as the stories flick past him faster and faster as he falls. And then he hits something, glass spraying around him and he can't draw a breath. His chest surges with the effort as he gasps for air.

But not just in the dream. After his scream, his body twitches in his bed at Wayne Tower, his lungs struggling to pull in air as he gasps and groans.]

( Lucky for Jason, Bruce is still up because... why wouldn't he be? Working on something — putting this or that together. Anything to occupy his mind with there being no Gotham to protect — no streets to stalk within the shadows and wait. Finding something to keep his mind busy is the only thing keeping him from completely losing it some nights. Though, in all honesty, he's not very far from doing that even on good nights.

When he hears the screams, he looks up from his glass, having been nursing a bit of something between tinkering, and makes his way to the room he let Jason take. Steps are quick — he knows what this is — and when he pushes the door open, it's with the heel of his palm and he's staring into the darkness of the room; he doesn't need light, he sees perfectly fine within it. )

Jason.

( He says his name both firm and focused, steps carrying him towards the side of his bed. )

Jason, hey. It's ok. You're— you're ok.

[Jason's chest heaves and his body twitches as Bruce comes into the room, trapped in his nightmare, in feeling his bones break and shatter against the ground. The taste of metal slips into his mouth as he bites his tongue, but the sound of his name has Jason's eyes snapping open. He jerks at the sight of Bruce at the side of the bed.

He takes one deep breath, then another.]

I'm fine. [He curls up on his side, away from Bruce to hide his face as he forces himself to breathe. Just breathe.] I'm fine.

( He's not fine. No one ever is from something like that.

Jason curls into himself and Bruce just lingers there near the edge of the bed. Still. Uncertain. Panic racing through him with being so unsure of what to do here. He reaches out to touch his shoulder but stops halfway — fingers curling into his palm. Swallowing, he gently presses a knee onto the mattress and slowly sits himself down some on it. Close but not too close so as to give Jason the space he might need for himself. )

I'm... I'm here. You had a nightmare.

( Obvious, he knows, but. Again. He's not sure how to approach this. )

[Jason realizes belatedly that he's trembling, that the beginnings of tears have already traced down his face as he tries to smear them away with one hand. Breathe. He's got to breathe. He feels the dip in the mattress and a part of him is grateful that Bruce is telegraphing his movements, letting Jason know exactly where he's at.]

Yeah, just a dream. Just a fucking dream. [He's angry, but mostly at himself for showing such a weakness. He wants to scream at Bruce like he did Molly, like Dick.

Except it's not just a dream. He remembers what Leslie said about trauma, about how the body stores it far longer than one would ever expect. And if he could talk about it, he might be able to release its hold, bit by bit.] I...

[Where does he even start?]

Fuck.

( Slow and careful movements it is then.

Hand gentle in the way it touches to the mattress, he looks around the room for a quick moment before he's looking back to Jason — letting him take the time he needs there. He's been here before himself. Countless times over the years. Even here in Etraya and especially after he'd dealt with a twisted version of his mother trying to kill him. Still gets him every now and then.

Licking over his lips, he gives another look around the room again, quick and fleeting. )

You're safe here. It's just you and me.

( At that, so very gently, he reaches out and lets his hand touch at Jason's shoulder. Just barely a whisper of a touch. )

I got you.

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do you want to possibly play out a nightmare?

i'm here for it

sweet

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