"Of course I'm going to forgive him. Because I love him. And the last thing I want to do is come to him in anger."
He pushes away from the counter.
"What part of making him feel worse is going to help him see a way out? What part of my rage is going to convince him that he's not just saving me the trouble of putting up with him for even longer?"
You're assuming you can convince him to change his mind at all. I mean, he's already done it. The world that Dick goes back to? Doesn't have a Bruce Wayne in it.
[ doesn't have a batman. no one had stepped up to it, not even dick. not even himself. ]
"It won't be the first time he's died," Clark says dispassionately, "and it won't be the first time it's been reversed."
He looks over at Jason.
"There's things that he and I have experienced that we've never told anyone about. Trust me when I say... time, and reality, aren't nearly so simple as that."
[ that hurts to hear, somehow. he draws in a sharp breath and has to turn away, furious at himself for reacting, furious for caring. tim had said darkseid killed him, or they'd thought he was dead. there've been other near misses. disappearances.
no more batman. he doesn't know why it makes him shake, why it turns his voice unsteady. it's all he'd thought about for the years he'd spent planning his revenge. ]
He told me that my death wasn't enough to make him stop being Batman. I talked to him and I thought, maybe he was right, what would I do if I had the Joker in my head and he was taking over and I couldn't trust anyone to-- to save me-- [ and his voice cracks ]
...would I pull the trigger myself? I'd try. I understand that.
But then he said it wasn't because of that. It was because he'd lost control and he'd killed. He'd gotten people killed.
He thought he got me killed and that didn't fucking matter enough to even pause, but jesus fucking christ, it happens to anybody else and he's-- lining the mansion with explosives, he's all fucking set to pull the trigger, and Alfred...
[ he stops, chest heaving, dragging his hands through his hair. ]
"It didn't happen to someone else," Because that needs to be dealt with right away. "He directly acted to cause the death of another person."
He steps forward.
"He didn't kill himself because he was just that sad, Jason. Bruce doesn't work like that. His entire life has been about loss. Think for a moment."
He closes his eyes for a moment, breathes in for a moment, and opens his eyes with more clarify.
"He killed himself because he thinks he's become the very thing he's spent his life fighting against. " And he wants to be kind, he wants to leave it alone, but he can't. "And because his failure resulted in one of the sons he'd taken in becoming that too."
Another step closer.
"He killed himself because he believes he's tipped over from giving to the world to taking. And he can't live that way."
[ he flinches. violently. and when he finally drags his head up and sees that clark has moved closer, he backs away, irrational panic suddenly flooding through him. ]
[ every instinct is screaming at him to run, but he can't, because that's superman, and he's trusted superman since he was a snot-nosed little brat running around the neighborhood pretending he could fly. he'd trusted superman even when he'd told himself he hated bruce.
maybe all clark wanted was his hand, but what he gets is jason taking one wobbly step like a dazed baby animal and then throwing himself forward, clinging with all the fierce desperation of a fifteen year old boy.
the mostly incoherent words underneath his ragged sobs are 'I'm sorry,' repeated over and over. ]
[That was actually a million times better than he'd ever hoped for.
[He'd expected a hand, maaaaaybe. He'd more expected a knife. Possibly more skittering. He'd been expecting to hit a wall again...
[Instead, he gets this. And while he hadn't expected it, he's ready for it. He's been ready for it since day one.
[Because if anyone understands the difference between damage and damage, between what you could do and how much you could do and how broken you were inside--
[He understands more than he doesn't. And that's why the arms are solid and warm and accepting. Why he runs his hand up and down Jason's back and holds him like he's that snot nosed kid without an ounce of propriety or fear or shame. There's no pride here. There's no anger here. There has been so much hate and so much fear and so much terror and there's guilt and there's blame and all those things are still there but they're not here because human beings can only take so much]
Shhh, it's all right. It's all right. I've got you. I've got you, Jason.
[ it's everything that had been building up inside him since that halloween night; the nightmares, the guilt, the betrayal. he'd spent a long time in the dark crying for his heroes. for someone to catch him when he collapsed on the bloodstained concrete every time joker cut him down.
it's selfish that he's back to his own trauma and unable to even consider bruce’s, except as something to beg for. if he was sorry for what he'd done, if he promised to be better, maybe none of it would be true.
he cries until he can't speak, racking, tearing sobs that hurt his throat and his chest, until breathing hurts and every inhalation is a ragged gasp. he cries for a long time, exhausting himself. when he's finished he's still clinging, face buried against clark's chest like that will somehow hide him.
all that bravado and bitterness is somewhere else right now. the fact that they're in one of his burner apartments, the fact that this isn't even his clark, the fact that he'd only ever been a furious asshole to him, the fact that technically bruce and alfred are already gone are just set aside for the moment. all he can think about is rescue. ]
[Clark just... holds him. And in some ways, it's the easiest thing in the world. This, he can do. He can put his arms around someone, he can wait and be patient. He can be a shoulder to cry on and a shield between them and the world. These are all things he can do and he does them happily for Jason.
[Because Jason killed so many people and hurt so many people and almost got Barbara killed and hunted Bruce and all of those things happened... But those things happened. There was only forward to go and maybe they could go a different path.
[He rubs Jason's back and holds him and even murmurs a few gentle words against Jason's hair. Kindness. Love. Care.
[Safety.]
There you go. I'm here, Jason. I've got you. You're okay.
[ it's the first real word he manages after the repeated apologies had finally died away, and he pushes back from clark with tears still running down his cheeks. ]
[ there's a quiet horror in the words this time, a more raw, honest reaction without all the rage in the way. he killed himself, and he did it because of jason. it doesn't matter how many other reasons there were besides that one, he was a reason that his father had killed himself. ]
Because of me. [ he grips clark's arms like he can force him to admit it, expression an open wreck of misery with all his armor torn down. everything underneath it is soft and raw and bleeding. fixated. bruce killing himself isn't something that happened to bruce, it's something happening to him, and it hurts. ]
[ he lets go of clark at that, pulling back and away in a flinch. ]
I don't want to be Batman. [ he sounds faintly bewildered at the suggestion; becoming batman was something that hadn't occurred to him until he'd been hip deep in the fight. until the joker infection. ]
[Sometimes, talking to Jason is like walking on sand. You're never sure what's under your feet or how stable it is. He wishes he could be upset about it except that he's mostly just sadness; he's well aware it's worse being the sand. All the same, his expression is a little sad and a little worn but still welcoming. He'd said the wrong thing. He was sorry.]
Maybe that's for the best. Forge your own path. How can I help you, Jason?
[ it's hardly clark's fault, he's not a mindreader. everything jason had convinced himself that he wanted in the years after the Incident are just that, things he'd built up in his mind as solutions. go back to gotham as a villain. defeat batman. kill batman. take batman's place. save batman from the joker. brick upon brick of walls he's built to give himself something to hide behind, things to get angry about. the very, very last thing he'd actually and truly wanted was to be rescued, but he'll never have that. everything afterward is... fluid. he'd wanted to beat bruce in flat out combat. he'd wanted to surrender. he'd wanted to get killed trying. he'd wanted the possession to be real so he could have his revenge. he'd wanted the possession to not be true because it would kill bruce and let the joker win. he'd wanted a million contradictory things.
what he does want is to stop hurting, and for things to stop hurting him. even clark asking that question is painful, because he doesn't know. he'd told batman in the heat of combat that there was no help for him, and he'd meant. there is nothing he can conceive of in his own tunnel-vision view of the situation that would help. ]
If I came home... [ he says softly, ]
If I surrendered, would he not do it? Would that make him change his mind?
[ it's. a child's viewpoint, actually. bargaining. ]
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"If you like."
And his voice is... utterly blank. Not calm, not gentle. Just... blank.
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He pushes away from the counter.
"What part of making him feel worse is going to help him see a way out? What part of my rage is going to convince him that he's not just saving me the trouble of putting up with him for even longer?"
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[ doesn't have a batman. no one had stepped up to it, not even dick. not even himself. ]
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He looks over at Jason.
"There's things that he and I have experienced that we've never told anyone about. Trust me when I say... time, and reality, aren't nearly so simple as that."
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no more batman. he doesn't know why it makes him shake, why it turns his voice unsteady. it's all he'd thought about for the years he'd spent planning his revenge. ]
He told me that my death wasn't enough to make him stop being Batman. I talked to him and I thought, maybe he was right, what would I do if I had the Joker in my head and he was taking over and I couldn't trust anyone to-- to save me-- [ and his voice cracks ]
...would I pull the trigger myself? I'd try. I understand that.
But then he said it wasn't because of that. It was because he'd lost control and he'd killed. He'd gotten people killed.
He thought he got me killed and that didn't fucking matter enough to even pause, but jesus fucking christ, it happens to anybody else and he's-- lining the mansion with explosives, he's all fucking set to pull the trigger, and Alfred...
[ he stops, chest heaving, dragging his hands through his hair. ]
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He steps forward.
"He didn't kill himself because he was just that sad, Jason. Bruce doesn't work like that. His entire life has been about loss. Think for a moment."
He closes his eyes for a moment, breathes in for a moment, and opens his eyes with more clarify.
"He killed himself because he thinks he's become the very thing he's spent his life fighting against. " And he wants to be kind, he wants to leave it alone, but he can't. "And because his failure resulted in one of the sons he'd taken in becoming that too."
Another step closer.
"He killed himself because he believes he's tipped over from giving to the world to taking. And he can't live that way."
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Don't. Don't.
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Jason? You know I'd never hurt you.
[He reaches up and straightens his hair. Straightens it a very specific way.]
Jason...
[And he holds out his hand.]
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maybe all clark wanted was his hand, but what he gets is jason taking one wobbly step like a dazed baby animal and then throwing himself forward, clinging with all the fierce desperation of a fifteen year old boy.
the mostly incoherent words underneath his ragged sobs are 'I'm sorry,' repeated over and over. ]
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[That was actually a million times better than he'd ever hoped for.
[He'd expected a hand, maaaaaybe. He'd more expected a knife. Possibly more skittering. He'd been expecting to hit a wall again...
[Instead, he gets this. And while he hadn't expected it, he's ready for it. He's been ready for it since day one.
[Because if anyone understands the difference between damage and damage, between what you could do and how much you could do and how broken you were inside--
[He understands more than he doesn't. And that's why the arms are solid and warm and accepting. Why he runs his hand up and down Jason's back and holds him like he's that snot nosed kid without an ounce of propriety or fear or shame. There's no pride here. There's no anger here. There has been so much hate and so much fear and so much terror and there's guilt and there's blame and all those things are still there but they're not here because human beings can only take so much]
Shhh, it's all right. It's all right. I've got you. I've got you, Jason.
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it's selfish that he's back to his own trauma and unable to even consider bruce’s, except as something to beg for. if he was sorry for what he'd done, if he promised to be better, maybe none of it would be true.
he cries until he can't speak, racking, tearing sobs that hurt his throat and his chest, until breathing hurts and every inhalation is a ragged gasp. he cries for a long time, exhausting himself. when he's finished he's still clinging, face buried against clark's chest like that will somehow hide him.
all that bravado and bitterness is somewhere else right now. the fact that they're in one of his burner apartments, the fact that this isn't even his clark, the fact that he'd only ever been a furious asshole to him, the fact that technically bruce and alfred are already gone are just set aside for the moment. all he can think about is rescue. ]
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[Because Jason killed so many people and hurt so many people and almost got Barbara killed and hunted Bruce and all of those things happened... But those things happened. There was only forward to go and maybe they could go a different path.
[He rubs Jason's back and holds him and even murmurs a few gentle words against Jason's hair. Kindness. Love. Care.
[Safety.]
There you go. I'm here, Jason. I've got you. You're okay.
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[ it's the first real word he manages after the repeated apologies had finally died away, and he pushes back from clark with tears still running down his cheeks. ]
I'm not. Nothing is. Nothing will ever--
[ he chokes off. ]
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For right now, you're doing okay. Maybe not perfect. Maybe not everything... but better than you could be.
But never say never.
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[ there's a quiet horror in the words this time, a more raw, honest reaction without all the rage in the way. he killed himself, and he did it because of jason. it doesn't matter how many other reasons there were besides that one, he was a reason that his father had killed himself. ]
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[Because he won't shy away from that. But they can't focus on that. Neither of them can focus on that.]
And we can't change yesterday. What we can change is today. And tomorrow.
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Because of me. [ he grips clark's arms like he can force him to admit it, expression an open wreck of misery with all his armor torn down. everything underneath it is soft and raw and bleeding. fixated. bruce killing himself isn't something that happened to bruce, it's something happening to him, and it hurts. ]
He and Alfred. Because of me.
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[And his voice is gentle, but still firm.]
If you want to be Batman, this is the first true step.
[And it kills him to say that, absolutely kills him, as much because of the manipulation as because of the pieces of truth within it that he's using.]
Step forward. Take your pain and your loss and make something good from it, something that saves others from what you've had to experience.
Learn. Grow. Never forget but also don't dwell.
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I don't want to be Batman. [ he sounds faintly bewildered at the suggestion; becoming batman was something that hadn't occurred to him until he'd been hip deep in the fight. until the joker infection. ]
I want it all to stop.
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Maybe that's for the best. Forge your own path. How can I help you, Jason?
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what he does want is to stop hurting, and for things to stop hurting him. even clark asking that question is painful, because he doesn't know. he'd told batman in the heat of combat that there was no help for him, and he'd meant. there is nothing he can conceive of in his own tunnel-vision view of the situation that would help. ]
If I came home... [ he says softly, ]
If I surrendered, would he not do it? Would that make him change his mind?
[ it's. a child's viewpoint, actually. bargaining. ]
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But I don't think it would hurt.
Maybe it would show him that there's a way back. Even from the darkest places.
I don't think he knew that.
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Is that what you want me to do?
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I'd be lying if I said no.
But you have to want it. For you.
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