#i’m definitely calling out of work tonight cuz FUCK dude everything hurts

[monogramsalarm]

tee hee *kicking my feet in the air*

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, long time followers will probably remember having read this, but I can’t find the original post and I’m trying to like.....force-reboot/jumpstart me working on my ‘Kings of the Sky’ AU again because I haven’t touched it in awhile and I have like literally eight different installments in various stages of completion and that’s ridiculous even for me. So here’s a repost of the first part of “Teachable Moments” the canon-divergence point of that AU series, where Jason calls Dick for advice after the Garzonas case and everything changes from there.

******

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 4 Part 1

And here we go !

This is the last chapter of Liam’s 1st year at the university. It’s a long one, so be ready ;)

A new pov will replace Barbara starting now, I hope you’ll like it.

Damian-Nicholas Smith Carrey Friday March 8, in France

When people said him that he could write a book about his life, he never imagined what kind of book it would be. But now, he had quite an accurate idea. He would call it : 'How to change from the most famous hunter to a stupid and naive man in love'. He had gone through step one for a long time now : have a fucking ridiculous teenage crush. And now, he started step two : be in a relationship with your so-called crush. Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey wasn't someone easily flustered. At least on paper. But when it come to the baboon, it was a true disaster. He must have left his pride back in the US.

"What do you think ? Isn't this one better ?" asked Liam.

The junior looked at him, his brows furrowed. They were doing shopping for souvenir. Well, the baboon searched little things for his siblings and Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey tagged along.

"I dunno. There are the same to me."

One was a key chain with the eiffel tower, the other with the Arc de Triomphe. Both were low quality products anyway. But the baboon finally picked one, and they went out of the store.

"Where are we going next ?" asked the blond lad. "There is plenty of time before our departure..."

"I bought everything I wanted." replied his boyfriend. "So I thought we could hum... take some time for us ?"

He blushed when he said the last word, which made Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey blush too, and then they both blushed even more. This is an endless circle of  pathetic shyness. I mean, I eat ass every other day, so why am I so prude right now ?

"Fine." he agreed anyway. "Lead the way."

They honestly had a good time. It was fucking weird to enjoy this at much as sex. Maybe even more. They went for walk the length of the Seine. Liam ate a box of pastries along the way and they talked about this and that. This is the end of my damned life. I'm having a silly conversation with someone. It must be the first time since... I don't even fucking remember. They were on their way back when Liam sighed.

"I'm happy to have you Dami." he whispered.

All this romantic bullshit was so embarrassing. Do I like it or not ? Just get a grip dude ! Not only he was having a damn date with his boyfriend, but he also looked like the flustered one here ! No one must ever know it happened. The baboon took his hand.

"I'm serious you know ?" he continued. "I mean, I'm still very worried about a lot of stuff... Nate is my main concern, but I'm also still preoccupied by my father. And I can't deny my story with Kilian is giving me an headache. But I'm really happy to know you're here."

"First of all baboon, it doesn't suit you to be so serious." replied Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey while trying to regain composure. "Secondly, there is nothing in what you said that can't wait tomorrow. You've the right to enjoy a little time for yourself with someone you love."

Liam blushed. He kissed his boyfriend to thank him. Holy crap. I'm getting good at the cheesy stuff too. Well, it wasn't surprising : Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey was good at everything.

This evening on the plane, the junior felt a weird dread through his whole body. Suddenly, he stressed about his relationship. But there is nothing new... I mean, we already were a couple before. So what is different ? He quickly put his finger on it. I said to the baboon I loved him. I confessed my weakness. The hunters shall never know. Nobody in the university, for that matter. There are already too many fucking people aware of our relationship. I don't trust anyone about this.

"Hey dude."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey glared at the sophomore who hailed him. It was the dipshit called Matthew, Theo's heir.

"What the hell are you doing here ?" he asked. "Want to suck my prick ?"

The cocky lad (it was obvious this guy was an arrogant bastard) smiled.

"Maybe another time. I just wanted to say D.R sent me the contract regarding Barbara. She has to stay away from Colton and all his friends starting now. So you won't see her again much."

"Don't give me that crap, idiot. I don't care about the roach. You can fuck her, so go on. Isn't it what you wanted since the beginning ?"

Matthew's smile grew larger. I can definitely see the ressemblance with this shitty Theophile now.

"Just go away, moron." he concluded.

Liam Sunday March 10 back in the US

"This trip has done some damage..."

The young lad bite his lips. I knew I had indulged a lot but that's quite a change...

"Do you dislike it ?" asked Nate, while slumping on his bed.

"Not really..."

He had been ages since the last time Liam had looked properly at his reflection. He was pleased with his general body shape. His face was finely chiseled. He had strong biceps and triceps. His legs were robust but thick just like his chest. His pecs were nicely standing out. Even his back was kind of burly. But where three month ago he had a blossoming six pack, he had now a modest amount of squishy flab. His bulging waistline was easily noticeable since he was only in briefs. But he wasn't dissatisfied.

"I think I like myself." Liam whispered.

"And that's a good thing." mumbled his bestfriend, his eyes closed. "You have nothing to be ashamed about, trust me."

The chesnut lad outlined a smile. I'm glad to see Nate is talking more and more. He was also pretty sure Dami won't judge him for a little bulk.

"I mean..." resumed the other lad. "You're even well-endowed."

It made Liam blush like hell. (Not that he didn't take the compliment.) (Who could blame him ?).

The freshman expected things to improve since they came back from France. After all, Nate was getting better, Nick was actually making some progress at swimming and Dami literally confessed his feelings. It looked like the unicorns were finally powerful enough to repel the forces of evil. (After all, he had been feeding them with his dreams for months now !). So when a girl went to talk to him during his training this afternoon, he completely ignored her. (Not on purpose of course !). He was just so happy that he couldn't focus on anything. He went throught weight lifting and then legs exercises without noticing the many people who accosted him. He left campus without taking note of the lustful looks around him. I think I'm happy. The talk with Kilian had freed him. He was so glad to know the force of evils failed to take his ex-boyfriend. Anyhow, he finally went to work. As soon as he arrived, Judy came to him.

"Oh god Liam here you are ! I was so worried !" she shouted.

He blinked, not sure to have heard right. (Not that he often didn't heard people or anything...). What was she worried about ? Did he forget something important ? Something life-saving ? Maybe the aliens were gonna attack soon ?

"Liam focus ! I'm trying to have a conversation here !"

Judy clicked her fingers right under his eyes, breaking his thoughts.

"Are you alright ? Did someone do something to you ?"

"What ? No." he replied, surprised. "Why ?"

She frowned.

"Are you and Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey still a couple ?" she eventually asked.

Liam blushed. I think I'm supposed to keep it a secret but... He could trust Judy, right ?

"We are." he replied. "But what is your point ?"

"Be prudent when you're not with him okay ? I never thought I would say that one day, but I think you're safer with him around. Even if I still bet he'll hurt you in the end, like he did with everyone else."

Liam nodded. Their boss was calling them. I'm not sure I understand what she meant... However, he was certain Dami wouldn't said "I love you" so lightly. I'm special to him, I'm at least sure of that.

When he arrived at their flat tonight, Nick announced Nate wasn't there. Apparently, he had left for a talk with Archibald. It reminded Liam there were still things he wanted to improve in his life. My bestfriend and my poor family situation should be my priorities. He had no doubt the unicorns would agree on this. Besides, everything was linked to the forces of evil anyway. He grabbed a slice of pie in the fridge and joined his roommate. (Of course a pie made by Dami. Now that he had tasted his boyfriend's pastries, it was very hard to eat anything else to be honest.). (Once you visited heaven, you wouldn't come back, right ?).

"I can tell he's doing better." said Nick while staring at the screen of his console. "But I also can tell he went through something very disturbing. What do you think they're talking about so often ?"

"I don't know." admitted Liam. "But Dami assured me Archibald was a good guy so I trust him."

Of course, the chestnut lad wanted to help. And yes, I want to know what happened. (Curiosity is not a sin). (Glutonny is, but Liam didn't think much about it).

"Yeah well, until now we can say whatever he's doing is working." agreed Nick. "You should go to sleep... Wait, are you snacking ?"

Liam took a mouthful of his pie and chewed happily.

"This is just too good." he explained.

"You were sooooo against food at the beginning of the year." laughed his roommate. "I never imagined you were such a foodie."

Well... Seems like I changed my mind.

Nicolas Monday March 11 – Tuesday March 12

< Imagenius : yo what's up ? >

< TheSavior : long story short it sucked. I m better looking at my screen and playin'. Wht abut you pal ? >

< Imagenius : long story short my roommate is fuckin' loud while talkin' with her new friends. I hate people with actual life you know ? They remind me I'm a loser >

< TheSavior : won't say I know the feeling cuz I dont. >

< Imagenius : lol becuz right youre so popular >

< TheSavior : at least i hav friends outside a lame chat bruh >

< Imagenius : bruh >

< Abeautifulwomen : guys I do to. >

< Imagenius : as if a man who claims to be a girl could. Anyway Sav can you send us another pic of  this cute roommate of yours ? Pretty please ? >

< Abeautifulwomen : Same. But hey Ima are ya gay ? >

< Imagenius : Joker ? >

< TheSavior : need 2g. I'll turn the chat off. I don't hav any another pic >

* Abeautifulwoman is offline *

* Imagenius is offline *

* TheSavior is offline *

Nick sighed and looked at the clock. Almost midnight. Nice. I can still play. He slowly stood up and headed to the kitchen. First of all, he needed supplies. The raven-haired boy opened the fridge and grabbed a slice of pie and a beer. Two beers. He knew Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey had cooked it for Liam but whatever. His friend wouldn't mind. Nick came back to his room and turned his console on. A sligh whine came from his roommate's bedroom. Nate was having a nightmare again, he guessed. It was happening every other day. Not like if I could just ask what's wrong. If he doesn't talk to Liam, he won't talk to me. The lad drank his beer and started to play. He was good at it at least. He finished the level rather quickly, only to notice he had already ate the pie and emptied the beers. Again, he stood up and headed to the kitchen. Not that he was hungry, but he liked to play while chewing something. This time, he opted for ice cream. And beer of course. Then, he took his playing up again. One hour later, he was done with two more level. And he had devoured the ice cream. So once more, he stood up and headed to the kitchen. No wonder I'm fat. He put his snacks on the counter and patted his belly. When he had entered college he had been a twig. But the sudden freedom allowed him to indulge without his parents constant nagging. Maybe he had enjoyed it a bit too much. When he had come back at home for the christmas holidays they weren't very happy about his changes. Himself had been surprised to discover he had already hit the freshman 15. Now this limit was beyond him. I checked when we came back from France. I weight 89 kg (196 pounds) now. Almost 200. Nick shrugged. He didn't really care. He took his snack and continued to play.

The next morning, he got ready quickly. Unlike Liam, he wasn't dozy on the morning. Well, Liam was dozy all the time so bad comparison. They left together for the first lecture. When they arrived, the first thing Nick noticed was Barbara. The girl hated him for some absurd reason. She was so obnoxious. Then, he glimpsed Rebecca. Another one he couldn't understand at all.

"And to think I've been interested in her..." he mumbled.

Liam didn't hear him. That was the good thing with this dude. I could've been screaming, he wouldn't notice. They joined Colton who greeted them warmly. Nick turned on his gameboy but he wasn't paying attention to the screen. He knew the game by heart since middleschool anyway. Instead, he looked at his friends. He often did that without them noticing. Everyone assumed he was just another nerd but he was an observant nerd. Their trip in France had took a toll on Liam waistline aswell. If I'm looking closely enough, I'm sure even Colton's ever slim frame must've softened a bit. Nick was pretty sure this one would lost it in one day or two. As for his dreamy roommate... I think he will keep it on purpose. He seems to like it. Well, both of them were handsome anyway. The raven-haired boy didn't have this luck. He heard someone laugh behind him. The person whispered something about pokemon being a lame game. Another talked about his little bathing in the Seine. Not a day I want to remember. Seriously, classes were so boring...

Noon eventually came. Nick hit the buffet of the cafeteria like a ravenous beast. He needed his daily amount of junkfood to functiun properly.

"What do you think about the math assignment ?" asked Colton. "Shall we work on it tonight ?"

"I finished it already." he revealed. "But I'm sure Liam would be glad to do it with you."

Of course, his roommate wasn't listening. He was looking away while munching on home-made cookies. And new thing, he was crooning. I know some very weird people but they can't hold a candle to him. Nick discreetly kicked him under the table.

"Uh... What ?"

"Welcome back to earth." he said. "Colton wanted to ask you something."

Nick didn't listen to their conservation. He had glimpsed Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey in the crowd. Another strange dude. Since I came here, I met too many real character. He looks pissed. I mean, more than usual. He was talking to a girl. Well, probably insulting the girl to be fair.

"... Swimming tonight ?"

The raven-haired lad turned his attention towards Colton.

"No thanks." he replied when he had guessed the question. "I'm not very... at ease when there are so many people watching me."

His friend smiled.

"Of course."

* TheSavior is online *

* Abeautifulwomen is online *

* Imagenius is online *

< Imagenius : yo ! Day was booooring. How was yours ? >

< TheSavior : Same as usual. Couldn't wait to be back in my flat >

< Abeautifulwomen : Mine was fine. I don't actually leav my flat. Lucky me ! >

< Imagenius : Btw guys there is something up in my college. I heard ppl sayin a big hunt started. Don't know what that meant but they were very excited. Apparently, the prey is one of a kind ! >

< Abeautifulwomen : Funny. Do you think they hunt human ? >

< TheSavior : I'm sure they're talkin abut a treasure hunt or smthg. We shuld play. >

< Imagenius : Nah Sav it was about a real person. They want him but idk why. Maybe he did something wrong. Beauty yu didnt hear anythg from your boss friend ? >

< Abeautifulwomen : He doesnt control every college in the country duh. Last time he called he was very very very very very angry :3 I got a dick pick thanks to that ! >

< Imagenius : You really are gay. >

< Abeautifulwomen : I told yu im a girl >

< TheSavior : Come play and stop the chichat. Wdc abut a fke hunt nor ur fke dick pick >

< Imagenius : Aye sir >

< Abeautifulwomen : Aye sir >

To be continued

Tadaa. Something is going on in the community, but what could it be ?! I can only tell you Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey will have a lot of work to do. Liam is in a happy bubble, but you know me, it won’t last long.

And welcome Nick. He has been a steady presence in the background since the beginning, so he earned his own pov. He’s on a group chat with two other people... Maybe you’ll be able to guess who they are ;) 

[dahliawolfe]

Between

Roswell fanifc. Definitely not cannon. Very much smut. Very much poly. 

She’s attacked from behind. Slammed into the wall of the Pony on her way to take the trash out. The breath leaves her body in a harsh woosh. Blood beaded up on her forehead, as a gash was opened up from the rough steel.

“You little slut! Defending them damn Ortecho’s! They’re not here to protect you now, are they!?” is slurred into her ear from behind. Embyr rolls her eyes.

“Listen, Chad Thundercock, if you don’t let go of me, I’m going to kick you in the balls. And I don’t think your teenie weenie can take the blow.” Jake Sellars slams her into the wall again, and she growls. This racist piece of shit is really pissing her off.

“Oh yeah, Bitch. Will you now?” he spits, pressing something to her throat. She freezes. The bastard has a knife on her. “Cuz it looks to me, like I have the upper hand here. Now, how’s about I wash that whore mouth out for you?” She hears the chink of his belt buckle before suddenly all of his weight is gone. She turns to see a pissed Alex Manes holding a gun to the dude’s head and an eerily calm Michael Guerin staring at her intently.

“You alright?” the latter asks through clenched jaw. Alex drags Sellars to his feet, slamming him into the wall behind her.

“I….Yeah. I’m ok,” she answers. She is a little more shaken than she’d like to admit, but she would survive. Her fear quickly turns to anger, and she snatches up Sellars’ fallen knife. Pushing Alex out of the way, she corners Sellars, pressing the knife to his throat. “How does it feel, you dick?!” she yells. She digs the knife into his neck just deep enough to draw blood. “You think this is funny, huh?! Picking on other people because of their sex or skin color?! How do you like being the one persecuted?!”

“Embyr, enough,” Alex warns, stepping forward, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Hands shaking, Embyr presses the blade just a little harder.

“Emy, it’s ok,” Michael says, stepping close and placing his hand over the one of hers holding the knife. Giving one last growl and lunge, Embryr pulls away, only then noticing that Sellars had pissed himself.

“Pathetic,” she spits, storming away.

…

…

“Hey, don’t walk away from us!” Alex booms behind her. But Embyr doesn’t stop. She doesn’t need this right now.

“Emy! Stop!” Michael yells. She stomps her feet, stopping herself and turning to face the two men.

“What?! What do you two want?! It’s rush hour, and if I don’t get back in there, Maria is going to fire my ass!”

“She will not,” comes a softer voice behind her. She turns to see Maria looking at her in concern, before the older woman steps forward and cups her chin, tilting her head up to inspect the damage. “Oh, Honey, what happened?” Maria coos.

“That Sellars dick roughed her up! Don’t you monitor who comes in here?!” Michael Guerin snaps at Maria, who, for her part rolls her eyes and focuses back on Embyr.

“Ok, Kyle is in there. Corner him and take him upstairs to get you fixed up,” she orders, giving Embyr a gentle smack to the ass.

“Maria, I’m ok. I just want to go back to work.”

“Listen, you can go talk to Kyle, or I’ll take you to the hospital myself,” Alex dictates, crossing his arms over his chest. It was now Embyr’s turn to roll her eyes. “Fine,” Alex huffs, marching over, and scooping her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!”

“Are you going to talk to Kyle?”

“No!” He gave her a rough smack to her ass. “Oww! Fine! Yes!” Giving her another smack for good measure, Alex plops her on her feet and motions for her to lead the way into the bar.

…

“It’s not too bad, a stitch or two should fix you right up,” Kyle Valenti dictates, snapping his latex gloves off of his wrists. “Come on, we can take you to the hospital, and I’ll get you fixed up.”

“Uhh, can’t I just do all that tomorrow? It’s almost closing time, I should get down to help out with last call.” Kyle shakes his head at the younger girl.

“Fraid not. We don’t want it to get infected.”

“Don’t you have anything in your bag that could help?” Kyle narrows his eyes at her.

“Embyr, are you afraid of going to the hospital?” he asks gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She snorts, violently yanking her body away from him.

“What?! No! I’m not afraid!” Kyle holds his hands up, nodding to Michael and Alex.

“She needs stitches. I’m heading back to the hospital to finish up some paperwork. I’ll be there for an hour or so, if she changes her mind.” He then gathers his medical bag and walks out of the room.

Michael pulls Alex to the side. “Listen, let me have a second with her, ok? Let me talk her into it, and if that doesn’t work, you can drag her out kicking and screaming.” Alex frowns but nods.

“Fine, but I don’t always want to be the bad guy.”

Michael makes his way over to Embyr, taking a seat next to her on the velvet couch. “What’s up, Pumpkin? You can tell me?”

“I’m not your pumpkin. And there’s nothing up. I just don’t want to go to the stupid hospital, ok?!”

“No, not ok. You’re hurt, and you need stitches. And Kyle, as much as I dislike him, is a good doctor. So, why are you so against going to the hospital?’ He slings an arm over her, only to feel her slightly trembling. “I’ll be with you. Alex will be with you. I bet you won’t even feel it.”

“I can’t…I can’t go there,” she replies through clenched teeth.

“Why not?”

“My mom, she went there. She never came back. You go in, and you never leave, Michael!” It was clear that she was definitely panicking. And Michael didn’t know the whole story, but he knew that her mother had died when she was very young. Mimi and Maria had taken her in and raised her after. And if anyone knew about losing family, or well, not having them to begin with, it was Michael Guerin.

He pulls her into his lap and against his chest. “Hey, it’s ok. I would never allow that to happen to you. You’re safe here, with me. I promise you.”

“I can’t! I can’t go!” she wails against his shirt.

“Shh. Shh. It’s ok. Everything is ok.” He soothes her, running his hands down her back. “Emy, no one is going to hurt you while I’m around. Me and Alex…” and there it is. Something that neither he, nor Alex had ever spoken aloud, but both of them understood. “We’ll take care of you.” Because, dammit, they would. He knows how much he cares about the girl in his lap. And he knows how much Alex cares about her too. And he feels it so much it hurts, this desire to be everything for her. And fuck, maybe he’s crazy, hell, he is definitely crazy, but he knows that he, and Alex, and Embyr fit together like some cosmic puzzle that is pulled together by forces unknown to him. “That’s all we want to do, Baby. We just wanna take care of you.” And since when is Michael the sappy one? She looks up at him with teary eyes.

“Why?”

He chuckles. “I don’t know, man. I have no idea. But I know we do. And I promise you, that’s enough.”

Embyr looks into his eyes, searching for a sign of dishonesty. She finds none. She nods slowly. “Ok, I’ll go, but only if you promise to stay with me.”

“Scout’s honor,” Michael swears, helping her off of his lap and taking her hand.

…

“Ok, that’s it. You’re done,” Kyle says, standing back to look at his handiwork. Alex crowds in close, taking a look for himself.

“Thanks,” the soldier mutters, taking Embyr’s hand and helping her down from the exam table.

“Yeah. Sure. No problem. Anything for Embyr,” Kyle replies, giving the girl a smile. Tugging her closer, Alex slings his arm around Embyr.

“Let’s get you home, Baby,” he coos. He throws another glare at the doctor before motioning for Michael to lead the way and following him out of the hospital.

…

Embyr’s asleep by the time they make it to Alex’s house, so Michael stoops and lifts her from the truck and carries her inside, depositing her on Alex’s bed and removing her boots. He covers her with the blanket and softly kisses her head before leaving the room to find Alex.

Alex places two beers on the coffee table and sits to wait on his boyfriend. They have a lot to talk about, and he figures they should get it done before Embyr wakes up. Michael appears soon enough, throwing himself on the other end of the couch and snagging a beer. “I take it you said something to her about…the arrangement?” Alex begins.

Michael nods. “She wasn’t going to that hospital any other way. That’s for damn sure.”

“And what did she say?”

“Not much. She was scared. Not of us! Or at least, I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. Well, she didn’t run away, so that’s a good sign, I suppose.”

…

A soft hand strokes her head, waking her up from a peaceful sleep. She groans slightly before opening her eyes. Michael and Alex are sitting on each side of her, smiling down. “Hello, Beautiful,” Alex greets, stroking her hair again.

“Hi,” she yawns, unconsciously leaning into the hand.

“Think you’re up for talking with us?” Michael asks, nervousness tightening his smile. She nods, sitting up, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Em, I know Michael mentioned something to you before we took you for the stitches tonight. Do you remember?”

“Yeah. Kinda. He said something about you guys wanting to take care of me. And it’s ok. I know he was only trying to calm me down. I don’t actually expect you guys to do that. Don’t worry.”

Alex frowns. “It wasn’t just to calm you down. We do want to take care of you. We want to show you love, and make you feel good. We want you to be ours.”

“But…You guys are already together…? So, how would I fit into all that?”

Michael chuckles. “Perfectly. You’d fit right in between both of us. In all the best ways, Emy.” Alex rolls his eyes.

“What Michael is trying to say, is; we love each other, but we want to love you too. We want you to be our girl.”

“Like a throuple? Or something?” She frowns, thinking that she had chosen the wrong word.

“Exactly.”

“But that seems…complicated?”

“Well, it would be. But we’d set rules. And boundaries.”

“Like?”

“Like, for starters, it would only be the 3 of us. We wouldn’t be with anyone else, and neither would you. Complete loyalty. And you would tell us if and when something was too much. We’d go at your pace.”

“Ok.”

“And…And this is essential. We’d be in charge. All the time. We want to take care of you. So, you’d have to let us.”

“I don’t understand.” Alex smiles softly.

“That’s ok, Babydoll. What I’m saying is, Michael and I would care for you physically, emotionally, and sexually. We’d be in charge at home, out in public. And in the bedroom.” Embyr’s eyes widen slightly.

“I mean, I can take care of myself. I’m not like…stupid or anything.”

“No! Of course not! We don’t think that at all!” Michael rushes. “We just want to take care of your and show you we care about you.”

“We know you’re not stupid, Em. Trust me. We also know that you’re very special. Especially to us.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Michael assures, rubbing the back of her neck gently.

“I…I wanna….I wanna do it.” Alex and Michael both beam.

“Well, in that case…How about we give our little girl a treat for being so good for us, huh, Michael?” Alex asks, giving Embyr a naughty smile.

“You read my mind,” Michael replies.

[bigskydreaming]

Thank you for the boosting and the donation! Got the rest of the rent there now, which let me sit down and whip out my first commission, yay! Someone who said they didn’t need to be credited asked me for 2K about the idea of “what do I think Dick’s opinion would have been of the Felipe Garzonas situation at the time.”

Which is a fucking awesome premise, and not one I’ve spent a lot of time thinking on, but it hit me right away....like, you know I’m always talking about how Jason and Dick have a lot more in common than most people think, IMO, and also that Dick isn’t nearly as incapable of understanding the impulse to kill as he’s normally assumed to be.....but thinking about Jason as Robin and whose side Dick would fall on that, if he’d been asked to weigh in....and given that he was still on iffy terms with Bruce and thus probably more inclined to side with the kid in his literal shoes, who he could remember being in certain ways, at certain times...

It made my mind jump straight to Robin: Year One, and how when Bruce fired Dick as Robin that first time, after the Two-Face incident, he kinda pinned the judge’s death on Dick, like as a direct result of Dick’s choice there...and this definitely affected Dick throughout the entire rest of the mini...which all culminated in him being trained at Shrike’s Vengeance Academy and literally holding a gun on Two-Face himself, having been ordered to kill him by Shrike, and wanting to...because of how Two-Face had so recently hurt him, and in Dick’s eyes...also been the direct result of his fallout with Bruce, the thing that made Bruce run away.

And so with all that in mind, here’s what I came up with. It’s open-ended, because my commissioner said they would rather me leave it unfinished if I felt there were more places I could take it, if other people wanted to commission further additions to it or I wanted to finish it myself later when I had time.....so here’s 2,695 words of Dick and Robin!Jason in the week immediately following  the Garzonas case. I got in a groove with it so went over the commission mark, lol, (I don’t charge extra for that, FYI, lol) but also I wanted to make sure I left it in at least a somewhat place for a break, rather than just in the middle of a thought.

This is definitely something I’d come back to on my own, just to finish it, no further commissions required, but like.....being able to use the commission to pay towards food or rent instead of waiting until I have the time and energy to bang out actual fic, like...definitely would make that a sooner rather than later thing, not gonna lie. LOL. I mean hey, I wrote this in the last hour. 

(Which also means its unbeta-ed, but they said that was okay and I think it still reads pretty cleanly as is). Anyway!

********

UNTITLED FOR NOW

The way Jason Todd warily eyed the device in his hand, one might think it was an instrument of great and terrible destructive power, rather than just…his own personal cell-phone.

To be fair, he was Robin, and pretty used to the idea that even the most unlikely of things could be used for evil in Gotham. It could’ve been stolen and replaced at some point by a henchperson of Mr. Freeze, and using it could unleash some kind of cryogenic freeze ray that would turn him into a Robinsicle. Mad Hatter could be up to shit again, and dialing the phone at this very minute might mean syncing it up with a remote radio signal that would override his natural brainwaves and turn him into Tetch’s mindless minion of like…doom and stuff. Or…or…

Or sometimes, even in Gotham a phone is just a phone, and Freud is still a dumbass. And neither of the above possibilities had anything to do with why Jason was being a giant freaking pansy about entering the last digit of the phone number he would never ever admit to having had memorized for months now.

Nightwing had said to call if he ever needed to talk. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t actually want Jason to call, right? Like, its not as if Jason had remotely been expecting him to do that, so its not the sort of thing someone did just because it was ‘expected’ or shit. He was pretty sure. Rich people manners were weird though. Had to factor that in.

But Nightwing had also even made a point to say not talking to people about stuff was Bruce’s problem and that Jason shouldn’t let it be his problem too, and even though months ago Jason had been a starry-eyed dumbass who was totally drunk on the Bruce is the Bestest Kool-Aid or whatever, ‘Wing had definitely known what he was talking about there. So maybe he’d get it, and having this conversation with him wouldn’t be. Like. The actual worst idea in the history of ever.

Deductive logic said that Jason was getting worked up over nothing and there was no rational reason for him to be this nervous about dialing a fucking phone number. And he’d gotten pretty good at the whole deduction shit, given all the work he and Bruce had put into training his mind to view the world through entirely new paradigms, so Jason was pretty sure his math on that checked out. But on the other hand, Bruce was a hypocritical asshat that Jason was currently not speaking to, so what the fuck did he know about anything?

Aaaaand he was back to square one. Well damn. This was excellent. Very productive. Good hustle out there, Jay.

Sighing gustily, Jason flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to pretend he hadn’t gotten used to how luxurious and cushion-y his ridiculously expensive mattress was. He’d gotten soft, he told himself. Then he scoffed at the idea that the past year and a half of rigorous Robin training and patrols had made him less tough than the pipsqueak he’d been back when living on the street, getting his ass kicked by bigger and badder on the regular. That hadn’t been hardness, that had been bravado.

But it had gotten him this far in life, so maybe there was something to be said for it after all?

Ugh. Decisions were hard. He objected on principle. He also really wanted to understand why he was this nervous…if he could literally fill the guy’s shoes and kick supervillain ass as Robin, what freaking sense did it make that he couldn’t even call him up on the phone?

Maybe you just know better than to ask him questions you don’t really want to hear his answer to, a smug voice said in the back of his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Willis Todd, which was all kinds of weird and fucked up, cuz Jason was damn sure his abusive a-hole of a deadbeat dad had never said anything that insightful in his life.

Which meant it was his own screwed up subconscious - presenting in the voice of his not so dearly departed douchebag dad, no less - that had Jason reacting out of spite, entering the last number and hitting Talk, all while totally on autopilot. Because apparently we’re all making healthy life choices in this Chili’s tonight, Jason snickered somewhat hysterically while his phone rang once, twice, three times.

Ugh. Was he always this fucked up in the head and he just never noticed, or was it a side effect of running around rooftops in a cape. Inquiring minds wanted to know.

“Hello?” Someone said then, answering on the fourth ring. Jason sat bolt upright, his nervous humor vanishing as quickly and unexpectedly as it’d hijacked him in the first place. For all that he’d only actually interacted with the older man a few times, his voice was instantly recognizable. As was his slight confusion.

Right. Because why would Nightwing have the untraceable number of the latest burner phone Bruce had given Jason, when the ever paranoid Bat had him swapping out phones every freaking week? Duh, Jay.

“Uh, its me,” Jason said hastily, as if he could somehow catch up to and overtake the epically long ten second silence he let lapse before his mouth started making words again. “Jason?”

“Jaybird! Hey! What’s going on?” The older vigilante’s tone instantly morphed into one of surprised delight, so apparent even across the phone that Jason actually pulled it away from his ear and stared at it, as if that could explain Nightwing’s inexplicable giddiness. He’d literally only met the dude three times. Give or take a concussion he was forgetting about maybe? Weird.

Then again, the older man was a circus performer from birth. Might just be good at faking being super excited to hear from people? Whatever. Still weird.

“Uh, you said to call if I was ever having, I dunno, issues with Bruce I guess? So I kinda had a question? I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.”

Just one question? Willis’ voice asked snidely, echoing in time with the rapid tripartite beat of Jason’s heart. Since apparently everything Jason said was trying to come out with a question mark attached to the end of it at the moment. Ugh, fuck you, subconscious, Jason thought forcefully, even as he ransacked the recesses of his mind for that bravado he was thinking about earlier. It had to be in here somewhere…

“No worries dude, I’ve got time. Hit me!” Nightwing said cheerfully. His lighthearted cadences were so at odds with the sweat suddenly breaking out on Jason’s forehead, the younger teen couldn’t help but wince in anticipation of its inevitable change once he got his actual question out. This was a bad idea, he decided, way too fucking late for it to make a difference. He had a hunch Nightwing wouldn’t be content to ‘just forget it’ or whatever even if Jason chickened out now.

So he took a deep breath, shrugged and did what Jason Todd did best. Said fuck it, put pedal to the metal, and drove at full speed for the metaphorical police barricade that was his way of picturing all the things telling him He Should Definitely Just Not.

“Do you think I’m someone who could kill somebody in like, cold blood?”

Aaaaand there went the lightheartedness. Well, he’d definitely stone cold killed that, Jason thought grimly into the silence that followed.

“Huh,” Nightwing said at last. “You’re gonna have to give me a second to switch gears here, Jay. I was kinda expecting something along the lines of ‘how do I avoid Bruce giving me the safe sex talk.’”

Jason flushed and nodded jerkily, not that the older man could see it. Still, it’d been enough of a workout just getting to this point. He didn’t trust what might come out of his mouth next if he kept trying to force it. Thankfully Nightwing didn’t make him wait too long before continuing.

“I think anyone’s capable of killing somebody in the right circumstances,” Jason’s predecessor began carefully. Except that was not remotely what he wanted to hear. Or helpful.

“I’m not looking for platitudes,” Jason grit out, not angry at the other vigilante so much as the whole fucked up mess and his inability to think about anything else at this point. “It’s just a simple fucking question. You’ve met me, do you think like, I’d be capable of just killing somebody or not.”

“I’m not offering platitudes,” Nightwing continued calmly, as if he wasn’t phased by the younger boy’s interruption or sudden aggression at all. “And its not a simple question at all. Speaking from experience, most people wouldn’t think of an eight year old as a cold-blooded killer, but that’s what I could have been if Bruce hadn’t stopped me from killing my parents’ murderer when I first tracked him down. And yet that’s still totally different from when I held a gun on Two-Face barely a couple years later, about to shoot him because somebody else told me to, and because I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me. Wouldn’t you agree those are two different situations and two different ‘kinds’ of cold-blooded killer? Context is kinda a big deal here.”

Huh. First off…what the fuck? Jason stared blankly up at the ceiling, trying to hurry up the processing functions of his brain because, again, what the fuck? He was like ninety nine percent positive none of that had been in the Dick Grayson Is The Greatest and Here Are All The Reasons Why brochure he’d had read to him every time someone new found out he was Wayne’s newest stray, and like. Uh. Yeah, that part would have definitely stood out. Because once more, with feeling:

“What the fuck?”

Oops. That hadn’t been supposed to be out loud. Bad mouth. Bad.

Nightwing just did a weird kinda half laugh half sigh combo. Rueful, Jason would describe it, if he were describing it to someone else, which it kind of felt like he was, relaying the conversation to himself now that it’d taken a hard right turn into the surreal.

“Blindsided you with that, huh? Sorry, should’ve figured neither of those are the kinda stories Bruce would want to share with you. Then again, I don’t really have any idea what Bruce has told you about me.”

“Not much,” Jason admitted. Which was a major source of irritation, if he was being honest. The much sung praises of Dick Grayson came from literally everyone he met except for Bruce. Who usually just got a pinched expression whenever Jason brought him up, and a rapid subject change that was not nearly as subtle as Bruce seemed to think it was.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Nightwing sighed. “I hope you haven’t put too much stock in anything else you’ve heard about me then. I’ll admit to a bad habit of enjoying my mystique, so secondhand hearsay tends to lose my best nuances.”

Despite himself, Jason’s lips curved up and he let out a rueful huff of his own. “I mean, this definitely isn’t where I saw this conversation going.”

The older man chuckled. “Thought I was going to just assume the worst and chuck the book at you?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jason shrugged, even though he knew it wouldn’t come across. “Bruce did.”

Nightwing heaved an exasperated breath. “Yeah, that’s kinda the thing about B. Sometimes, he’s great. Other times, he’s an ass. Its kinda an either or thing. He’s never really mastered the art of finding a midpoint between two extremes. Mostly because he’s never seen the point of aiming for middle ground.”

“Well its not like he’s ever really had to,” Jason griped. It just slipped out before he could stop it, leaving him feeling guilty for bad-mouthing B when he wasn’t around to defend himself. Especially since he knew Nightwing wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan these days. But he couldn’t deny it also felt good, in a way.

To his surprise, Nightwing just laughed. And not even in a malicious, spiteful kind of way, but almost relieved.

“God, thank you. You’d think that ‘hey, so my billionaire guardian kinda has entitlement issues’ would be a water is wet kind of revelation, but try saying something like that to pretty much anyone else…”

“And they look at you like you’re an ungrateful asshole?” Jason finished for him. Not that he’d ever actually tried saying that to anyone before, though he’d definitely thought it a time or two. But he could all too easily imagine the reactions he’d get, which was pretty much why he’d never gone so far as to speak the words.

“Yup,” Nightwing drawled, dragging out the p and popping it with emphasis. “And its not about being grateful or not, its just…there are some parts of everyone that just aren’t up for grabs, for other people to weigh in on or take charge of, you know? And a lot of people just don’t get that…because nobody’s ever tried it with them, or had to deal with expectations that…overstep, let’s call it?”

“Is that why you left?”

Jason winced the second it left his mouth. Too far. Definitely way too far, but he’d just gotten unexpectedly comfortable with the back and forth, and now he’d done the overstepping thing himself and was left with just dead air.

But ten seconds of heavy silence stretched into twenty, and went no further, as Nightwing sighed into his side of the phone again.

“The spiteful part of me wants to say it was more of a push than me just up and leaving,” he laughed again, but this time with unmistakable bitterness. “But even while that’s true, its not really the right answer to your question, because no matter how much of a clusterfuck that was at the time, its not…I mean, I knew at the time how to fix it. Where and how I needed to cave in order to make up with him and let things get back not quite to normal, but at least close enough.”

The pause wasn’t as heavy or tense this time, as Jason could almost sense the older man gathering his thoughts, trying to put them into words. He bit his lip rather than risk any more unexpected utterances escaping. This might not have been where he’d thought his phone call would lead, but now that he was here, hearing the answers to questions he’d wanted to ask for over a year and finding them almost comfortably familiar, he wasn’t going to risk distracting Nightwing or shutting him up for well. Anything.

“But it would have meant me caving. Settling in ways that I just…couldn’t. So in a way, yeah, I did leave, it was still my choice. And all of that was definitely a big part of it. I love Bruce, I do. I just couldn’t live with him anymore. Not without feeling like I had to give up my own autonomy and just be what he wanted. Or what he’d expected me to grow up to be, back when he first took me in. And as grateful as I am to him for that, I can’t honestly say I would have stuck around back then if I knew that was the price tag attached. I’m not…I don’t do well with people trying to force me to stick to one place, one thing. I was born on the road, you know? When I was a kid, I expected to spend the rest of my life living like that. Home was people. Not places. And so Gotham…its never fit me quite right, the way it does him, or even Barbara. Its not like I was miserable there, its just.”

“It wouldn’t have been your first choice,” Jason finished again, quietly. There was silence again for awhile.

“No. No, it wouldn’t have been. Not then.”