( which is why he pulls up to the curb in fifteen minutes--on his shiny ass new red bike, neon purple lights lighting where tires would be, except. everything hovers in this future. a red helmet's on over his head, side of it painted lazily with a shitty bat, and the jacket dick had personalized forever and a half ago still worn over shoulders.
and the moment jason spots damian, he raises a gloved hand, gestures for him to hop on. )
( he didn't have a destination in mind. just wanted to show off his new bike, get damian out of his head a little. so jason drives around for a few minutes, heads off towards the shit part of town. the bits without good surveillance.
and parks his bike near their old warehouse, before waiting for damian to climb his way off. )
[ He doesn't even register - then he sees the date on the implant. Oh. Well, just... oh. He was supposed to set up the meeting on his birthday, that slipped through the cracks that the loss of Bruce caused.
He swings himself off of the bike, shoving his hands in his pockets. ]
( damian swings off. jason stays on, reaches down onto the pouch he has attached to the bike by his left thigh and pulls out a forearm-length object wrapped in an old tee.
a kris, one damian will recognize as similar to the one his grandfather wields. an exact replica, with the addition of a few scuffs. )
Your mother gave it to me a while ago. ( also it's. sharp, definitely a weapon, not a utility knife. mildly useless considering how carrying that around would go for him. )
Came out of my chest-portal, but I figure you'll appreciate it more than I will. Keep it.
Obviously that didn't happen, ( damian's gone quiet, so jason can fill the space with chatter. ) unless having his dead sidekick come back to life, take over the underground drug rings, scream in his face and kidnap Joker really counts as teaching him a good lesson. Then there was the bullshit with Hush before--
[ He adjusts his grip on the weapon, sliding it carefully into the bag on his hip he's started carrying around to hold his collapsible sword. ]
He doesn't matter.
[ He doesn't really know how else to feel. Killing Bruce was all that had ever mattered to him, that burning need to end him so he'd be free of his shadow. So that he wouldn't have to worry about anyone else he cares about jumping to his side and poisoning everyone against him.
And now he is.
And Bruce hadn't even done that. He almost had.
It wasn't his Bruce, maybe it will be different when it's his Bruce. Maybe that will liberate him from all the misery inside of him. ]
... actually killing him won't solve anyone's problems.
( it's an easy agreement. jason wanted to at one point, too. before realizing the only way to take bruce down is to destroy him. to take gotham out of his hands. but he couldn't do that, either.
because he loves bruce wayne as much as he infuriates him. it's complicated. messy. but it's also just how it is. ) And this isn't about him, either. Right?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@matches.malone
where are you?
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Why?
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15 minutes
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You could just tell me what you want, you know.
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( which is why he pulls up to the curb in fifteen minutes--on his shiny ass new red bike, neon purple lights lighting where tires would be, except. everything hovers in this future. a red helmet's on over his head, side of it painted lazily with a shitty bat, and the jacket dick had personalized forever and a half ago still worn over shoulders.
and the moment jason spots damian, he raises a gloved hand, gestures for him to hop on. )
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... he has the feeling jason isn't going to tell him anything if he asks. or go away if he walks away. so he sighs and climbs on. ]
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and parks his bike near their old warehouse, before waiting for damian to climb his way off. )
Got you a gift.
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[ He doesn't even register - then he sees the date on the implant. Oh. Well, just... oh. He was supposed to set up the meeting on his birthday, that slipped through the cracks that the loss of Bruce caused.
He swings himself off of the bike, shoving his hands in his pockets. ]
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( damian swings off. jason stays on, reaches down onto the pouch he has attached to the bike by his left thigh and pulls out a forearm-length object wrapped in an old tee.
a kris, one damian will recognize as similar to the one his grandfather wields. an exact replica, with the addition of a few scuffs. )
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Not this.
Damian pulls the shirt free and then just stares down at the weapon. His brow furrows, he looks back up. ]
Jason... I can't take this.
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Came out of my chest-portal, but I figure you'll appreciate it more than I will. Keep it.
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[ It's not a gift she'd give lightly. Damian wraps it in the shirt again, holding it carefully. The barest touch of reverence. ]
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( not something given lightly. not something jason would give up lightly, either. but here they are. )
Now it's yours.
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He doesn't matter.
[ He doesn't really know how else to feel. Killing Bruce was all that had ever mattered to him, that burning need to end him so he'd be free of his shadow. So that he wouldn't have to worry about anyone else he cares about jumping to his side and poisoning everyone against him.
And now he is.
And Bruce hadn't even done that. He almost had.
It wasn't his Bruce, maybe it will be different when it's his Bruce. Maybe that will liberate him from all the misery inside of him. ]
... actually killing him won't solve anyone's problems.
no subject
( it's an easy agreement. jason wanted to at one point, too. before realizing the only way to take bruce down is to destroy him. to take gotham out of his hands. but he couldn't do that, either.
because he loves bruce wayne as much as he infuriates him. it's complicated. messy. but it's also just how it is. ) And this isn't about him, either. Right?
This's a gift for you.