That just gets a raise of an eyebrow. Because he's well aware that they're both well aware how stupid that sounds. But after a moment, he tilts his head.
"Maybe not Tim," he grants with a frown. "But you, me, and Dick?" That comes with a snort. "Absolutely.
He lets some of the levity slip out of him then, considering how to put what he wants to say. That's why his voice is gentle when he speaks again.
"Next time you talk, if you talk, every time he says something that sounds like 'you're reckless' or 'you're foolish' or 'you're screwing up', replace it with 'you could get hurt'. You'll be amazed how different the rest of it sounds in context."
He doesn't like that idea. Not because Clark is wrong, but because he shouldn't be jumping through fucking loops to have a conversation with Bruce, especially when all he wanted was to help Twin. Once again, he realizes that last statement isn't exactly... true.
"I was actually-" 'hurt', he thinks. But he can't say it, not out loud. So he gives Clark a look that he hopes he will understand. He communicates with Bruce, he should be fluent in silences. "I don't know. I actually wanted his opinion on something other than 'you fucked up he knew too much'."
Clark doesn't defend Bruce there; for one thing, it's not his place. For another, he knows how damn difficult and hurtful the man can be. He didn't exactly get to where he is now, the understanding he had now, without a few 'scars'. Just because he understands him, that doesn't mean he thinks everyone can handle it. Or wants to.
"He can be a bit singleminded. You're not wrong. But I do think, from the talks that I've had with your double, that he's not wrong about the approach. I've seen the Arkham Knight be sane, rational... even empathetic. But the second anything related to Bruce or Batman enters the discussion, he gets completely irrational."
"That's me too! I fully admit I'm not rational wherever he's involved. Him or anyone in their little clan, really. But how is pushing him away going to change that?
"No, Jason," and he's trying to be gentle again, "you're emotionally compromised. But you can recognize it. You know and acknowledge it and actively question your responses because of that." He shakes his head. "The Arkham Knight is on an entirely different level in that respect. And part of that is, I believe, because he lacks identity of his own. He needs to figure out who he is outside of Bruce. Apart from Bruce. Get some friends, get a hobby, do something beside obsess. If the only thing he's working from is his solidarity or antagonism with Bruce, there's no room for him to grow or heal."
He sighs.
"I'm not saying Bruce won't be involved. No one's abandoning him. I've been talking to him consistently since I got here, offering him an open door, offering him open arms. I don't want him alone. But the violence of his reaction to Bruce just isn't helpful to anyone."
He tries to go for gentle, again. Tries being the keyword, he's not good at it and he's already on edge. He knows that logically, if everyone agrees he's wrong then he must be. But all he sees, all he processes is Twin being kept from the one thing that could make him better.
"Bruce in my world ignored me as well. And when he died I was so out of my mind I almost killed a 10 year old just to make Dick suffer because I am the only one good enough to wear the cowl. And I've had years of this, years where I should have healed and it's unfair that neither of us is going to get a chance at that."
"I know he doesn't want me," Clark answers, and it's clear he's... well, Jason's not the only one strained on this point. "But you're over-identifying. You're trying to fix him the way you think you could have fixed yourself, and you're ignoring the parts that don't overlap."
He holds up a finger, counting off.
"You do not believe, nor want, Bruce to be partially the Joker. You would never have hurt Barbara to try and kill him. You might have 'almost' killed a 10 year old" and he doesn't know enough there, wishes he did, "but you didn't actually help fill Gotham City with tanks and fear gas."
But god, the things Jason is saying... It reminds him of nothing so much as Lex Luthor, screaming at him, shouting about all the good he would have done, all the ways the world had been better without Superman. How he could have saved the world if only-- as if Clark had ever stood in his way.
Clark was an excuse. And it was becoming clearer and clearer to him that even for this Jason, Bruce was an excuse.
"And this goes for both of you: if you want to heal, if you're serious about it, then your first step would be looking into therapy. Not waiting for Bruce Wayne to fix everything and figure out how human interaction works in a non-procedural fashion."
That's like a physical blow, and Jason takes a step back. Clark's totally right: Bruce is his excuse, but he was also his father. The only father he ever really known. And there's a reason he reacted so badly to his death.
"...He told me that. When he died, he left me a message. Called me his greatest failure. Told me to seek therapy.
Do you have any idea how much it hurt to hear your dead father say that?"
He looks carefully at Jason now, just watching him for a moment. He's heard this Bruce talk about Jason... and he'd certainly heard the one back home say plenty on the subject. Or NOT say it, as the case usually is. But Bruce has a very distinct way about silences, after all. Words are not always a direct translation when it comes to speaking Bruce Wayne.
Which is why he's clearly confused why Jason might be upset with Bruce for that. Until the words reconnect in his head differently.
Dammit, Bruce.
"And you thought he was calling you a failure? That you'd failed?"
His jaw clenches. His knuckles are white, nails digging into his skin
inside his fist.
"I know he did. And I am. I'm the black sheep, I'm the kid in the story
they tell the little robins when they grow up. Please, please don't be like
Jason Todd or the big bad Joker will get you.
Clark stares at him for a moment and he actually can't help but drag his hands over his face, scrub at his eyes and breathing deep before breathing out.
"Jason. Jason, no. God no. That wasn't what he meant at all. Not at all."
Dammit, Bruce.
"He wasn't calling you a failure. He wasn't saying you had failed. He was apologizing. He was telling you that he had failed you. That's why he wanted you to seek help.
"Because he had done so much damage with his mistakes."
Dammit dammit dammit.
"The Bruce at home. This Bruce. They've both said this to me. They called you a 'good soldier'. They said they'd failed you. That you deserved better. Jason, didn't it ever occur to you that if he thought you were such a failure, he wouldn't care enough to tell you to seek help? It doesn't make sense. And it doesn't make sense because I swear, I swear on the memory of Krypton, Jason:
He can't breathe, he really can't. Suddenly Jason's eyes aren't green anymore, suddenly they shine in a completely different light. All he sees is red and danger and how does he beat Clark? How can he kill him? He's invulnerable he's dangerous he's hurting Jason and it has to stop maybe his eyes are vulnerable maybe his ears he doesn't have any weapon nearby wait there's knives he sees knives he sees a window break it get the glass slice his neck there's a spoon go for his eyes get the beer break the bottle stab his arm with it get rid of him stab main kill hurt get rid of the pain-
“STOP.”
Is he telling Clark, or himself? He isn't sure. His entire world is spinning and every single one of Clark's words hurt deep in his soul. If Clark is right, and Superman usually is in Jason's opinion, then the problem isn't Bruce. The problem is him.
“Stop, okay? I can't. Talk with you about it, I really can't. Can we focus on Twin? Tell me how to help him. Tell me what to do.”
He's watching Jason, carefully watching him, watching his body's reactions, the way his eyes shine. But he also watches him control it. He watches him say 'stop' and he can't help a quick burst of pride.
They're both good kids. There's hope yet.
"Like I said, Jason. He needs to start some relationships that don't have anything to do with Bruce. Which isn't to say that it can't be people he knows or people who know Bruce, but it can't be about Bruce. Right now, most of what he's doing is mustering forces and manipulating people towards his goals.
"Genuine relationships. Genuine activities. Part of his hatred for Bruce stems from a hatred of himself, so helping him with his self image wouldn't hurt. If he'll let you help him, try and help him remember the good things in life."
A sigh.
"He needs to remember what life is. He can't heal until his world is bigger than Bruce."
He's still wary, looking like a wild animal that will attack at the slightest movement. Clark is dangerous, says his brain. He's too close to the truth, he's hurting me, I should get rid of Clark. It's like trying to have a conversation with himself, except he knows it's the Pits he's talking to. And there's no reasoning with them.
"You don't get it, do you? He is all my life. He took me from the streets, he trained me, shaped me, and then I died and I was left forgotten.
How am I supposed to reshape his world so Bruce isn't the center, when Bruce is still the center of mine?"
And that... God, that hits him. That hits him right in the chest. He closes his eyes and he tries to think of what to say, what to do.
In this place, they have the time. They have the space. If they can't fix it here, then where the hell are they ever going to fix this? Clark refuses to believe nothing can be done. So he's going to do something.
In the end, he reaches out a hand and beckons Jason over. He's no idiot. He knows the kind of struggle Jason's going through, even if he doesn't know the whys, the hows. He knows a little about how the Pits work, as he'd told Loki, but he doesn't know specifically what they've done to Jason. But maintaining distance from each other isn't going to accomplish anything either. He's not afraid of Jason. He's not afraid of what Jason could do to him, and it goes well beyond a lack of Kryptonite.
It has to do with trust. He trusts Jason.
And if he knows anything, if he's learned anything, if he believes anything, it's that most of the time, people just need a little trust to start believing in themselves.
Jason doesn't understand what's going on. This was for Twin, for Loki, even a little bit so Bruce would know how he's doing after he stormed off. It wasn't supposed to be about him but Jason has managed to twist everything so it's about him once more. That's kind of his superpower, isn't it?
He takes a step closer, but doesn't lower his guard. It doesn't really matter, Clark would just grab him if he really wanted to. And the window is still there if he needs a quick retreat.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to touch you unless you say it's all right. But let's figure out where we are and what we're dealing with and how we can help both of you."
"Which part was the one you shouldn't have told me? The part where you feel like you don't have any hope? Or the part where you want so desperately to help your double to have a better life?"
"I don't fucking remember asking for your help. I asked for your advice, but this wasn't about me. This was about me having the first boyfriend I've had since I was 15 and Bruce pissing all over it to the point where I'm now unable to not second guess every little thing he does, and about Twin being alone through this."
"Is there a reason why you're angry at the idea that I want to help you?" because that's the part that feels like it's tripping everything up, the one that he doesn't understand with either Jason. "Because you can't help your Twin without helping yourself. You can't help him towards the light if you don't know where it is yourself."
He leans back on the couch.
"Jason, do you know why I'm here?" And he gestures with a mimed circle of one hand, "Here. Not working, back home, but here. Why I didn't use... time travel or magic or some other method to try and fix the events of that other world?" The hand raises to stave off attack. "I promise, it's relevant."
"I'm here," and he speaks slowly, deliberately, "because after we went to that other world I told you about, after I'd watched every step my double made in agonizing detail, we all came home." And the word 'home' has strange echoes around it. Like he's not sure he has a home anymore. For anyone who knows Superman, knows Clark, it's very telling.
"And when we came home, the Justice League looked at me differently. They'd seen what could happen when I changed sides... and they were afraid. I will be honest and admit I don't know who came up with the idea, but they eventually decided that if I was going to live on the planet they'd sworn to protect" their planet, never yours, Clark, always an alien, "that they needed insurance."
He held up his hand, his pointer and his thumb an inch or two apart.
"A Kryptonite capsule, yay big, that I would swallow. And every week, a different League member would carry around the trigger mechanism, good to work anywhere in the world."
His eyes closed and his hands lowered.
"I decided to come here when Batman" and his voice hitches, a swallow, "when Bruce agreed to build it."
He takes a few seconds to finish that thought, unsure of the words he's supposed to use. Finally: "That is bullshit. You've been there up and down. I guess if you- he?- did what you said he did I'd be worried you could go to the wrong end too." Killing the joker, he means. The one thing Clark wasn't supposed to do, because it was Bruce's job.
"But you're not an on-call soldier we can get rid of. You're a sentient being with feelings. You gave me my first autograph." That he might or might not still have the world will never know. It's the one thing he'd go back for if he ever lost it while changing safehouses.
"I'm terrified of what you can do but that's a level of bullshit I can't even comprehend."
He nods, slow and clearly still feeling like he's been kicked in the chest about it. There's a reason he avoids talking about it. It just takes all the air out of him.
"Even beyond me," he explains, voice still soft, only now it's clear that it's also fragile. Jason is right. He's a sentient being with feelings. And that heart is as vulnerable in some ways as a human one. "It said, loud and clear, that no matter what, we weren't working from hope. We were working from fear. Everything I've done my whole life, leading through hope, believing... a failure. And I can't even blame them, knowing what I know."
He opens his hand and turns it facing up.
"And I can't deny that request. I can't. If it was someone else in this situation, I'd have the ground to take a stand. But as it is?" He lets his hand drop and he shakes his head. "So I... fled. Here. To this deal. To this place. To try and fix something I didn't even do in the hopes of piecing back together the hope that was shattered when we went to that other world."
He breathes in deep, breathes out just as deep, and shakes his head.
"But the point of all that, what I was trying to tell you, is that I do actually understand how it feels. What it feels like to have Bruce's--" it's not disapproval, exactly. It's not even fear. But it is a lack of trust, a breaking of something that he'd considered as close to sacred as was actually possible. His heart's in there too, but it's actually more than that.
"--you understand what I mean. I'm not just blowing smoke, Jason. I get it. That's what I want you to realize. I really really do get it."
A faint glimmer of a smile.
"And if you ever need another autograph, you know you're always welcome to ask."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"Maybe not Tim," he grants with a frown. "But you, me, and Dick?" That comes with a snort. "Absolutely.
He lets some of the levity slip out of him then, considering how to put what he wants to say. That's why his voice is gentle when he speaks again.
"Next time you talk, if you talk, every time he says something that sounds like 'you're reckless' or 'you're foolish' or 'you're screwing up', replace it with 'you could get hurt'. You'll be amazed how different the rest of it sounds in context."
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"I was actually-" 'hurt', he thinks. But he can't say it, not out loud. So he gives Clark a look that he hopes he will understand. He communicates with Bruce, he should be fluent in silences. "I don't know. I actually wanted his opinion on something other than 'you fucked up he knew too much'."
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"He can be a bit singleminded. You're not wrong. But I do think, from the talks that I've had with your double, that he's not wrong about the approach. I've seen the Arkham Knight be sane, rational... even empathetic. But the second anything related to Bruce or Batman enters the discussion, he gets completely irrational."
He holds up his hands.
"That's just my opinion, though."
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"That's me too! I fully admit I'm not rational wherever he's involved. Him or anyone in their little clan, really. But how is pushing him away going to change that?
It's going to make it worse."
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"No, Jason," and he's trying to be gentle again, "you're emotionally compromised. But you can recognize it. You know and acknowledge it and actively question your responses because of that." He shakes his head. "The Arkham Knight is on an entirely different level in that respect. And part of that is, I believe, because he lacks identity of his own. He needs to figure out who he is outside of Bruce. Apart from Bruce. Get some friends, get a hobby, do something beside obsess. If the only thing he's working from is his solidarity or antagonism with Bruce, there's no room for him to grow or heal."
He sighs.
"I'm not saying Bruce won't be involved. No one's abandoning him. I've been talking to him consistently since I got here, offering him an open door, offering him open arms. I don't want him alone. But the violence of his reaction to Bruce just isn't helpful to anyone."
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He tries to go for gentle, again. Tries being the keyword, he's not good at it and he's already on edge. He knows that logically, if everyone agrees he's wrong then he must be. But all he sees, all he processes is Twin being kept from the one thing that could make him better.
"Bruce in my world ignored me as well. And when he died I was so out of my mind I almost killed a 10 year old just to make Dick suffer because I am the only one good enough to wear the cowl. And I've had years of this, years where I should have healed and it's unfair that neither of us is going to get a chance at that."
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He holds up a finger, counting off.
"You do not believe, nor want, Bruce to be partially the Joker. You would never have hurt Barbara to try and kill him. You might have 'almost' killed a 10 year old" and he doesn't know enough there, wishes he did, "but you didn't actually help fill Gotham City with tanks and fear gas."
But god, the things Jason is saying... It reminds him of nothing so much as Lex Luthor, screaming at him, shouting about all the good he would have done, all the ways the world had been better without Superman. How he could have saved the world if only-- as if Clark had ever stood in his way.
Clark was an excuse. And it was becoming clearer and clearer to him that even for this Jason, Bruce was an excuse.
"And this goes for both of you: if you want to heal, if you're serious about it, then your first step would be looking into therapy. Not waiting for Bruce Wayne to fix everything and figure out how human interaction works in a non-procedural fashion."
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"...He told me that. When he died, he left me a message. Called me his greatest failure. Told me to seek therapy.
Do you have any idea how much it hurt to hear your dead father say that?"
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Which is why he's clearly confused why Jason might be upset with Bruce for that. Until the words reconnect in his head differently.
Dammit, Bruce.
"And you thought he was calling you a failure? That you'd failed?"
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His jaw clenches. His knuckles are white, nails digging into his skin inside his fist.
"I know he did. And I am. I'm the black sheep, I'm the kid in the story they tell the little robins when they grow up. Please, please don't be like Jason Todd or the big bad Joker will get you.
I can't let Twin go through that too. I won't."
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"Jason. Jason, no. God no. That wasn't what he meant at all. Not at all."
Dammit, Bruce.
"He wasn't calling you a failure. He wasn't saying you had failed. He was apologizing. He was telling you that he had failed you. That's why he wanted you to seek help.
"Because he had done so much damage with his mistakes."
Dammit dammit dammit.
"The Bruce at home. This Bruce. They've both said this to me. They called you a 'good soldier'. They said they'd failed you. That you deserved better. Jason, didn't it ever occur to you that if he thought you were such a failure, he wouldn't care enough to tell you to seek help? It doesn't make sense. And it doesn't make sense because I swear, I swear on the memory of Krypton, Jason:
"He never thought you were the failure. Never."
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“STOP.”
Is he telling Clark, or himself? He isn't sure. His entire world is spinning and every single one of Clark's words hurt deep in his soul. If Clark is right, and Superman usually is in Jason's opinion, then the problem isn't Bruce. The problem is him.
“Stop, okay? I can't. Talk with you about it, I really can't. Can we focus on Twin? Tell me how to help him. Tell me what to do.”
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They're both good kids. There's hope yet.
"Like I said, Jason. He needs to start some relationships that don't have anything to do with Bruce. Which isn't to say that it can't be people he knows or people who know Bruce, but it can't be about Bruce. Right now, most of what he's doing is mustering forces and manipulating people towards his goals.
"Genuine relationships. Genuine activities. Part of his hatred for Bruce stems from a hatred of himself, so helping him with his self image wouldn't hurt. If he'll let you help him, try and help him remember the good things in life."
A sigh.
"He needs to remember what life is. He can't heal until his world is bigger than Bruce."
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"You don't get it, do you? He is all my life. He took me from the streets, he trained me, shaped me, and then I died and I was left forgotten.
How am I supposed to reshape his world so Bruce isn't the center, when Bruce is still the center of mine?"
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In this place, they have the time. They have the space. If they can't fix it here, then where the hell are they ever going to fix this? Clark refuses to believe nothing can be done. So he's going to do something.
In the end, he reaches out a hand and beckons Jason over. He's no idiot. He knows the kind of struggle Jason's going through, even if he doesn't know the whys, the hows. He knows a little about how the Pits work, as he'd told Loki, but he doesn't know specifically what they've done to Jason. But maintaining distance from each other isn't going to accomplish anything either. He's not afraid of Jason. He's not afraid of what Jason could do to him, and it goes well beyond a lack of Kryptonite.
It has to do with trust. He trusts Jason.
And if he knows anything, if he's learned anything, if he believes anything, it's that most of the time, people just need a little trust to start believing in themselves.
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He takes a step closer, but doesn't lower his guard. It doesn't really matter, Clark would just grab him if he really wanted to. And the window is still there if he needs a quick retreat.
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"C'mere."
He pats the seat next to him.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to touch you unless you say it's all right. But let's figure out where we are and what we're dealing with and how we can help both of you."
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"What's there to figure out? I've already told you more than I should have."
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"Which part was the one you shouldn't have told me? The part where you feel like you don't have any hope? Or the part where you want so desperately to help your double to have a better life?"
How simple can he put this.
"Jason, I want to help. You and him."
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He leans back on the couch.
"Jason, do you know why I'm here?" And he gestures with a mimed circle of one hand, "Here. Not working, back home, but here. Why I didn't use... time travel or magic or some other method to try and fix the events of that other world?" The hand raises to stave off attack. "I promise, it's relevant."
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"No, I don't. I never ask about people's Incentives."
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"And when we came home, the Justice League looked at me differently. They'd seen what could happen when I changed sides... and they were afraid. I will be honest and admit I don't know who came up with the idea, but they eventually decided that if I was going to live on the planet they'd sworn to protect" their planet, never yours, Clark, always an alien, "that they needed insurance."
He held up his hand, his pointer and his thumb an inch or two apart.
"A Kryptonite capsule, yay big, that I would swallow. And every week, a different League member would carry around the trigger mechanism, good to work anywhere in the world."
His eyes closed and his hands lowered.
"I decided to come here when Batman" and his voice hitches, a swallow, "when Bruce agreed to build it."
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He takes a few seconds to finish that thought, unsure of the words he's supposed to use. Finally: "That is bullshit. You've been there up and down. I guess if you- he?- did what you said he did I'd be worried you could go to the wrong end too." Killing the joker, he means. The one thing Clark wasn't supposed to do, because it was Bruce's job.
"But you're not an on-call soldier we can get rid of. You're a sentient being with feelings. You gave me my first autograph." That he might or might not still have the world will never know. It's the one thing he'd go back for if he ever lost it while changing safehouses.
"I'm terrified of what you can do but that's a level of bullshit I can't even comprehend."
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"Even beyond me," he explains, voice still soft, only now it's clear that it's also fragile. Jason is right. He's a sentient being with feelings. And that heart is as vulnerable in some ways as a human one. "It said, loud and clear, that no matter what, we weren't working from hope. We were working from fear. Everything I've done my whole life, leading through hope, believing... a failure. And I can't even blame them, knowing what I know."
He opens his hand and turns it facing up.
"And I can't deny that request. I can't. If it was someone else in this situation, I'd have the ground to take a stand. But as it is?" He lets his hand drop and he shakes his head. "So I... fled. Here. To this deal. To this place. To try and fix something I didn't even do in the hopes of piecing back together the hope that was shattered when we went to that other world."
He breathes in deep, breathes out just as deep, and shakes his head.
"But the point of all that, what I was trying to tell you, is that I do actually understand how it feels. What it feels like to have Bruce's--" it's not disapproval, exactly. It's not even fear. But it is a lack of trust, a breaking of something that he'd considered as close to sacred as was actually possible. His heart's in there too, but it's actually more than that.
"--you understand what I mean. I'm not just blowing smoke, Jason. I get it. That's what I want you to realize. I really really do get it."
A faint glimmer of a smile.
"And if you ever need another autograph, you know you're always welcome to ask."
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