( with the pup there on the bed now, he sniffs around a bit β tail wagging away as he does, and bruce just sits there, staring still at the way the batsuit peeks out at him from the shadows of the duffel bag. fitting, he thinks.
as jason speaks β as he lingers there close to the bed, he doesn't look to him, but he hears him. he does. it shows in the way his eyes soften some, the way his brow gently furrows a bit, as if trying to imagine being in the shoes of the bruce wayne that jason and the others know and have. he can't imagine breaking jason's arm β can't imagine hurting someone like dick jr. or tim jr. his mind tries to piece together why. if he'd become so far wrapped up in being vengeance, that it's all he knows now. all he can understand. all he can relate to.
there's a moment, fleeting as it is, where he wonders if that's where he's headed as well.
then jason goes and says he's better than that and that has bruce slowly look over to him and there's a heaviness there in his eyes that goes beyond exhaustion. it's a man just barely hanging on, part of him wanting to let go.
a glance to the pup there who's flopped themselves down on the bed, he looks back to the duffel bag. )
Alfred's in the hospital because of me. ( the words are soft. heavy. ) The Riddler wanted to kill me. To kill Bruce Wayne. But Alfred was the one to suffer. I don't know if he's going to pull through or not. Because I'm here and I don't know what to do with being here.
( so he does what he does with the guilt he carries for his parent's deaths. goes out looking for a fight. a distraction from that pain and anger. and wears scars and bruises as a sort of reminder of that guilt. of that failure. )
no subject
as jason speaks β as he lingers there close to the bed, he doesn't look to him, but he hears him. he does. it shows in the way his eyes soften some, the way his brow gently furrows a bit, as if trying to imagine being in the shoes of the bruce wayne that jason and the others know and have. he can't imagine breaking jason's arm β can't imagine hurting someone like dick jr. or tim jr. his mind tries to piece together why. if he'd become so far wrapped up in being vengeance, that it's all he knows now. all he can understand. all he can relate to.
there's a moment, fleeting as it is, where he wonders if that's where he's headed as well.
then jason goes and says he's better than that and that has bruce slowly look over to him and there's a heaviness there in his eyes that goes beyond exhaustion. it's a man just barely hanging on, part of him wanting to let go.
a glance to the pup there who's flopped themselves down on the bed, he looks back to the duffel bag. )
Alfred's in the hospital because of me. ( the words are soft. heavy. ) The Riddler wanted to kill me. To kill Bruce Wayne. But Alfred was the one to suffer. I don't know if he's going to pull through or not. Because I'm here and I don't know what to do with being here.
( so he does what he does with the guilt he carries for his parent's deaths. goes out looking for a fight. a distraction from that pain and anger. and wears scars and bruises as a sort of reminder of that guilt. of that failure. )