etrayalogs | you hear i'm declaring war; open-ish

Entry tags:

you hear i'm declaring war; open-ish

WHO: Jason Todd (Titans), Bruce Wayne (The Batman), Jason Todd (WFA), Chrissy (Stranger Things) and others
WHEN: January, right after his canon update to post-death
WHERE: The Tower, Nova City, will update as needed
WHAT: Jason experiences his death and has Feelings about it.
NOTES\WARNINGS: DEFINITE mentions of violence and death, paranoia, fighting, etc.

Cause I Hit What I Aim For (Bruce Wayne, The Batman)
[Jason is busy scrambling eggs for him and Bruce in the kitchen when it happens. In one moment, he's stirring the eggs, hand on the handle of the pan and in the next, Jason disappears. Right out of Etraya's window of existence. The pan clatters to the floor, eggs spill onto the tile, but there's no sign of Jason. Another beat passes and then Jason is suddenly standing back at the stove-top, looking pale, his eyes distant before they roll back in his head and he collapses down into the mess of eggs. His head barely misses the edge of the counter as he goes down.

He stares blankly up at the ceiling, completely unaware of anything around him as the memories of the crowbar, that twisted face, play beneath the surface.]

Cause I Might End the Game For You (Jason Todd, WFA)

[Rest is what's been prescribed for Jason after he emerged from his apparent death at the hands of the Joker, but he can't stay helpless in a bed just waiting for the Joker to show up in Etraya. So he takes his new bike and runs, deeper into Nova City. He glances up to see a familiar face and his anger suddenly stokes white hot in his chest as he begins a pursuit.]

Hey! Asshole!

[He'll carry out this chase as long as needed to get up high enough to fight the older Jason. Why didn't they warn him?]

Could Laugh It Off and Keep Running (Chrissy, Stranger Things)

[The first moment he can escape Bruce, Jason runs. He takes to his bike and speeds across town to one person he knows he can trust, who has been there for him every step of the way. He nearly crashes as his disorientation continues to cloud his mind. He climbs the stairs two, then three at a time. He doesn't knock so much as bang on the door. He's determined to get in, to hide, to find comfort where he can.]

Chrissy!

[He's probably disturbing her neighbors but he doesn't fucking care. When she does open the door, he's pale, shaking, and sweating.]

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Fuck.

[Jason reaches up to cover his face when he feels the scar tissue. His fingers shake as they cross the uneven skin and the panic starts anew. His mind fills with the sound of his bones breaking, of his skull fracturing under each swing. He can't take it. He can't take this. He remembers how he tried to crawl away, only to have his ribs shattered.]

Fuck!

( this can't be what he thinks... this can't be what had happened to another jason. he keeps telling himself it can't be even with the way jason suddenly reacts — with the outburst and the way he holds himself. he's at a loss — stunned and concerned in ways he's never really felt before, but he reaches out to grip jason's shoulders. to try and be that anchor for him in this moment he can feel him slipping away from. )

Hey. It's ok. Listen to me.

( fingers curl into the boy's shoulders and he tries his best to maneuver himself there to be his focal point. )

I got you. I got you, Jason.

[Jason's breathing picks up in pace as panic races through him. He died. He fucking died. The Joker killed him. His Bruce tried to warn him and Jason--

Bruce's fingers curl around his shoulders and Jason turns back onto his back, shaking his head.]

You don't. You don't got me.

[He starts to sit up, his hands aimlessly traveling over the tile, fingers nearly shaking off his hand as he tries to support himself with them.]

( when jason begins to move, he lets him, but he doesn't stray from his side there. he stays right where he is. keeps his touch there on him. )

I have you right now. I'm right here, Jason.

[Jason curls over on himself as the panic turns into hiccuping attempts to breathe. He can still feel the impact of the crowbar on his back, his face.]

What happened? [He doesn't know what else to say when he can't draw a full breath. His chest stutters with the effort. He thought he was safe here in the tower, he thought he had a Bruce that would care if he went off on his own.]

Bruce.

( shaking his head, he looks down. )

I— I don't know. You were here cooking in the kitchen and then I... I heard a bang and you were on the floor.

( hands rest on jason's shoulders, gripping to him as if afraid he might disappear on him again. because that's what happened, isn't it? he just... disappeared back to his gotham. in the blink of an eye. so fast. so quick. he could barely even register what happened. )

You said you went back to your Gotham that... that sometimes here. It's happened to me before.

[That feels so long ago. Cooking here in the tower, making... eggs? And then something happened and he was back in his Gotham, back in his Batcave. He was on the phone with his Bruce and then he went off on his own.]

I was on the phone with my Bruce. He was leaving again. [Jason ducks his head into Bruce's shoulder, trying to take in the offered comfort.] But I knew where the Joker was. I thought I--

[He thought he could take him is what goes unsaid.]

He had a crowbar. And he--

[Jason shakes his head and the crying begins. There's no hiding the fact that he was beaten to death.]

( jason doesn't need to say it. even if damian hadn't told him months and months ago about what had happened to his jason, he could take a guess, figure it out, and still feel the exact same way that he does now.

the moment jason starts to break, arms wind around the boy so fiercely, so protectively, and he pulls him close against him, keeping him there as a hand rests at the back of his head. his mind races. eyes wide and full of emotions he can barely keep down himself. but he does. he steels himself and just holds jason there on the kitchen floor. )

You're here. I've got you. You're right here with me.

[Jason cries into Bruce's shoulder, desperate, sucking sobs that rattle through his entire body. It hurts, he realizes, it still hurts in a way that it shouldn't. His face, his head, his body. He distantly realizes that he has it quite lucky with Bruce here, how his own Bruce likely wouldn't even blink an eye.]

He was already recruiting. Before I--

[His Bruce, he doesn't say. But he found them: all the profiles of the new potential Robins.]

He was getting rid of me.

( he's been through how many robins? damian said he was the fourth. things happen, paths differ, views change but... this isn't how another robin should be picked. how could he just so easily take another robin for himself after...

batman needs robin, he remembers damian telling him. but he... doesn't think he could. not with what joker... no. he couldn't.

fingers are gentle in the way they curl in the boy's strands of hair there at the back of his head and he sits there with him. quiet. starting off across the kitchen. he doesn't know how to fix this. doesn't know what to do or say. but he has him here in the tower with him. he has him. )

You're... you're safe now. That's not happening here. Ok?

[Jason nods into Bruce's shoulder, but the fear-- both of death and being replaced-- refuses to quiet. He hiccups into a sob again, trying desperately to feel secure and safe here with Bruce, but that isn't happening. Maybe if he had the anti-fear toxin, he could wash it all away.

But something tells him he didn't bring anything with him except scars and a fuck load of new trauma.]

I can't. I can't deal with this.

[Death. Knowing he was about to be replaced. He curls in tighter beneath Bruce's arms, shaking.]

( there's nothing that can be said or done to quell the fear he knows must be rampaging through jason right now. it's cruel for this place to have sent him back to his gotham to when it did, but. there's nothing he can do. nothing he could have done to prevent it because there never is anything anyone can do. instead, all he's capable of is being there with him on the kitchen floor. holding him. protecting him. wrapping him up in whatever safety he can offer him here in etraya. it's not enough — it can't replace what he needed back in his gotham, but. it's all he can offer in the moment. )

You don't have to. I'm right here.

[Jason remains curled up against Bruce. His shoulders shake as his the memories play again: finding the profiles, locating the Joker, calling Bruce, and then going out on his own to the amusement park.

He shudders and he think he might be sick, but he attempts to swallow it down.]

Fuck, Bruce. I'm gonna--

[His body heaves, but nothing comes up yet.]

Hey, I've got you.

( he always does, but. maybe getting them off the kitchen floor will help. the mess... he can deal with it later. jason right now is his priority. he holds him tighter and pulls back just enough to be able to look to him — to their surroundings. )

Come on. Let's get you to the bathroom, ok?

Okay. Okay. [Jason staggers up to his feet, keeping one hand on Bruce at the minimum to help remind him he's here in the Tower. He takes one look at the mess of eggs before the nausea returns and he stumbles toward the nearest bathroom.]

( bruce has his hand there on jason's arm as he stumbles, keeping him close until he just goes and scoops him up into his arms. it's... easier. quicker. to get him there. also takes the weight of having to move his way through the tower off jason and it's only when they're at the bathroom that he lets him go, lingering near him as he looks around. as his mind continues to race. as he tries to just... figure out what to do in this situation because he absolutely has no idea other than trying to see what he can physically do for him. )

[Jason is quietly grateful for the carry. He won't admit it, but he is. They make it to the bathroom and as soon as Jason reaches the toilet, he's wretching into it. There's the remains of dinner, primarily as he continues to lose more of it into the porcelain. Eventually, he's empty and he leans over the lid in exhaustion, careful not to let his new scars touch anything even distantly metal.]

Fuck.

( while jason busies himself there at the toilet, bruce is already grabbing a towel for the other to take. with that, the first-aid kit — one of many in the tower — he has in the bathroom, popping it open and rummaging through it. grabbing the tablets he'd been looking for, he drops one in a glass of water and waits for it to dissolve some before he holds it out for jason. )

Drink this. It's electrolytes.

( something that will help, especially after throwing up like he had. )

[Jason slowly sits up and the scars are so much more apparent in the lighting of the bathroom. He accepts the glass and pills and hesitates. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Bruce, only that he feels so afraid and miserable.

After a moment, he knocks back the pills and leans against the wall. He leans his face on his knees, shoulders shaking.]

( he doesn't know what to say — doesn't have the words to fix any of this, so. he does the only other thing he can think of that won't steer him into losing his temper and lashing out throughout the penthouse: he focuses on tending to jason.

forcing himself to kneel down there with jason, first-aid kit at his side, he looks to him — hesitates to touch him in case he doesn't want to be. he's been in this sort of situation before. being badly injured, that is. with alfred the one taking care of him. )

Let me see.

( what there is he needs to work with, he means. )

[Jason raises his head from his knees and he looks over at Bruce. The worst of the scars cross the right side of his face, gouging into his skin. There are a few others— his lip is split open and scarred on the left side, and there’s another one at his left temple. It’s a mess of marled skin, like unraveled yarn in a couple places.]

He hit me really fucking hard.

( at that, he swallows. )

Yeah.

( he can see, even if he doesn't want to.

ducking his head, he looks back to the first-aid kit — sees what he can use there from it and, after a moment, he pulls out some antibacterial wipes, gently peeling the bag open, eyes fixated on it as a means to keep himself focused and not lose control of his own emotions in the moment. )

I'm just... going to touch you up. Ok?

Touch me up? Fucking how?

[Jason pulls back and shakes his head. Bruce may have a lock on his emotions, but Jason doesn't. He'd caught a glimpse on the way to the porcelain and he looks like a freak.]

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you hear i'm declaring war; open-ish

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cw: vomit

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