Purpose

Wobble

Jason can't keep his mind off Damian, and tries to drown out his thoughts with the TV, but fails. He sighs, switching the screen off and settling back on the couch. He's not tired. In fact, his mind whizzes now that the apartment is silent. Jason has already accepted that the boy is going to be part of his life. He doesn't know how long, but he's prepared. A bitter part of him loathes the fact that he's the one to find Damian, instead of someone better suited to be a mom, like Dick. But that part is overshadowed by simple fears and facts:

Jason found Damian a second away from a successful suicide.

He's sure of it, and has a feeling Damian might not have even known what he was doing. At first, when Jason saw the boy in the alley he thought he was just some kid. The ones who grow up in the slums usually, well, don't. Jason finds them a lot, teetering on the edge, and he knows he's not the only one.

Dick Grayson has talked his fair share of jumpers down from the rooftops of Gotham, as have everyone else in this game. It's an occupational hazard to run into those unfortunate souls, those with nothing to live for, and the resolve to jump into thin air with no intention of ever going back. It's routine, almost monotonous to give them a little advice, a little hope that change will happen, and one day things will get better. But even Number One would trip over this. Their brother. And Damian at that.

Jason closes his eyes, swallowing the pang that twinges at his heart. "He's twelve," he whispers audibly, a shaky statement. He's twelve and wanted it all to be over.

In that alley, Damian didn't feel fulfilled. He didn't feel heroic. He felt lost, overwhelmingly hopeless to the point of total subconscious failure. His need to end his suffering overcame his instinct for survival. How long has he been eroding away? How isolated did he become?

It puts it into perspective. Jason always considered those rooftop patrons to be a different category of victim. In the end, ultimately, it's their life, they can do or don't with it as they please. He'd offer his best words, and hope for their salvation, but all in all if they climbed back up there tomorrow while no one was watching, or took a knife to their wrists in their kitchen, oh well. Those people aren't his type to save, and it's true. He's not a professional, he doesn't know them personally. Jason could be doing more damage than good, whatever he does, yet he wouldn't know the difference.

Jason curses himself. It's not a one-off encounter. It's not someone he can assume will do the right thing. Not anymore. It's Damian.

And Jason has no idea where to begin, especially since Damian is such a stranger to him. He always has been, to everyone. He's a closed book in a locked drawer under heavy guard, and the pieces of himself he once allowed to roam free have vanished. He's lost his arrogance, his prickly nature, he's lost twenty pounds. He's lost Robin, he lost approval, he lost his father. Damian has lost himself. Jason has to help him find that boy again, but how can he, when he never knew him in the first place? He doesn't know of the battles that gave Damian his confidence, the abuses that keep his emotions in check, the threats he's had to overcome. He doesn't know how to fix this.

A shout comes from the bedroom, sending Jason out of his thoughts with a jolt. A thud follows, a groan. Jason vaults himself over the back of the couch and bursts into the room. At first glance, it looks like Titus may have kicked his master off, since his back is to the wall and his legs are stretched out straight. But Jason's bed easily fits the two. Damian's head whips up to look at him, fear crackling through his eyes. His breath is labored. Jason asks, "You okay kid?"

From his position on the floor, Damian does not feel okay, but he nods in answer. He'd been running in his dream, from what, he didn't know, but the fear he felt was real, and still radiates through him. Damian heaves himself back up onto the bed, scooting farther in and pressing against Titus' great paws. He's disrupted Todd's day. He needs to be quiet.