always with the Dick jokes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
irrelevant) wrote2011-04-03 05:30 pm
irrelevant) wrote2011-04-03 05:30 pm
Entry tags:
[fic] Enduring (DCU)
Enduring
DC comics | Jason Todd, Damian Wayne | G | 635 words
notes: Forelf, prompt: impostor. For the record, I don’t believe Damian and Jason have met other than in Batman & Robin any more than I believe Damian is Jason’s kid. Just saying.
The kid is both more and less than he expects, especially considering whose kid he is, but Jason’s not too surprised about that.
Bruce hasn’t been around enough to leave a mark, and even though Talia was brain-washed from the cradle to give two-hundred percent all the time, there’ve been pernicious influences at work since the kid left her, chipping away at all that excellent assassin's training.
The kid attacks without warning or quarter, but the edge Jason’s looking for is blunted, and the no holds barred fight he wants is a no-go. Instead he gets blocked the way Dickie would do it. Lands on his ass courtesy of a bastardized staff maneuver the kid has to have picked up from Drake.
And damned if that doesn’t crack his shit up, because the kid would be pissed as hell if he knew. Drake’s a sticking point for both of them, and Jason understands why better than anyone else ever can or will.
Which is why, when he’s got the kid down, pinned and cuffed, panting and glaring up at him, Jason takes out the knife the kid’s mother gave him and traces the yellow R on the bright red tunic that never changes, no matter what happens to the rest of the costume.
“You’re less Robin than the last one,” Jason says, and the kid laughs, short and sharp, hurting all the way down to the soles of his laced-up green boots and sure he’s not showing it.
“Why should I care?” he says. “I’m going to be Batman.”
“Maybe.” Jason taps the R with the knife's tip. “Maybe not. Not even the Dickiebird got that one for free, and you may be B’s kid, but number one son you sure ain’t.”
That gets a snarl and a buck, and Jason has to get a better grip before he grins down into the kid’s furious face and says, “Gotta deal with the truth sometime. The rest of us did years ago.”
The knife can cut through almost anything; it goes through the tunic’s fabric like it's butter, and Jason flicks the R free. In his peripheral vision, he sees it settle onto the roof. In front of him, the kid is still snarling. “Grayson will crush your testicles for this!”
And isn’t that interesting? All his intel suggests the kid’s stuck on Bruce, but it looks like Dick may have subverted that loyalty enough to become his knee-jerk reaction. Go Dickie.
“It’d be more like him to roll over and present for me,” Jason says, and yeah, that does it. The kid’s out of the cuffs Jason put him in, and he goes for him now with a knife. And it’s finally the fight Jason wants, but it doesn’t last near long enough.
He’s got too much weight and experience on the kid, and although they’ve had a lot of the same education, Jason learned back-alley brawling on Gotham’s mean streets long before he stole Batman’s tires. He’s got the kid back down and fully disarmed before the next police siren goes by.
He zip-strips the kid’s wrists and ankles, ties him up with his own decel line, and leaves him in the middle of the roof. Then he picks up the R, tucking it into his jacket while he calls Drake to come get the kid, making sure the kid knows who it is on the other end of the line.
The kid’s swearing in Arabic when Jason jumps off the roof, wriggling like a worm desperate to get off the hook before it hits the water. Any luck, he’ll be loose and gone before Drake gets there. He’s got incentive and, pernicious influences notwithstanding, a lot of potential.
Next time Jason emails her, he’ll be sure to let Talia know he said so.
DC comics | Jason Todd, Damian Wayne | G | 635 words
notes: For
elf, prompt: impostor. For the record, I don’t believe Damian and Jason have met other than in Batman & Robin any more than I believe Damian is Jason’s kid. Just saying. The kid is both more and less than he expects, especially considering whose kid he is, but Jason’s not too surprised about that.
Bruce hasn’t been around enough to leave a mark, and even though Talia was brain-washed from the cradle to give two-hundred percent all the time, there’ve been pernicious influences at work since the kid left her, chipping away at all that excellent assassin's training.
The kid attacks without warning or quarter, but the edge Jason’s looking for is blunted, and the no holds barred fight he wants is a no-go. Instead he gets blocked the way Dickie would do it. Lands on his ass courtesy of a bastardized staff maneuver the kid has to have picked up from Drake.
And damned if that doesn’t crack his shit up, because the kid would be pissed as hell if he knew. Drake’s a sticking point for both of them, and Jason understands why better than anyone else ever can or will.
Which is why, when he’s got the kid down, pinned and cuffed, panting and glaring up at him, Jason takes out the knife the kid’s mother gave him and traces the yellow R on the bright red tunic that never changes, no matter what happens to the rest of the costume.
“You’re less Robin than the last one,” Jason says, and the kid laughs, short and sharp, hurting all the way down to the soles of his laced-up green boots and sure he’s not showing it.
“Why should I care?” he says. “I’m going to be Batman.”
“Maybe.” Jason taps the R with the knife's tip. “Maybe not. Not even the Dickiebird got that one for free, and you may be B’s kid, but number one son you sure ain’t.”
That gets a snarl and a buck, and Jason has to get a better grip before he grins down into the kid’s furious face and says, “Gotta deal with the truth sometime. The rest of us did years ago.”
The knife can cut through almost anything; it goes through the tunic’s fabric like it's butter, and Jason flicks the R free. In his peripheral vision, he sees it settle onto the roof. In front of him, the kid is still snarling. “Grayson will crush your testicles for this!”
And isn’t that interesting? All his intel suggests the kid’s stuck on Bruce, but it looks like Dick may have subverted that loyalty enough to become his knee-jerk reaction. Go Dickie.
“It’d be more like him to roll over and present for me,” Jason says, and yeah, that does it. The kid’s out of the cuffs Jason put him in, and he goes for him now with a knife. And it’s finally the fight Jason wants, but it doesn’t last near long enough.
He’s got too much weight and experience on the kid, and although they’ve had a lot of the same education, Jason learned back-alley brawling on Gotham’s mean streets long before he stole Batman’s tires. He’s got the kid back down and fully disarmed before the next police siren goes by.
He zip-strips the kid’s wrists and ankles, ties him up with his own decel line, and leaves him in the middle of the roof. Then he picks up the R, tucking it into his jacket while he calls Drake to come get the kid, making sure the kid knows who it is on the other end of the line.
The kid’s swearing in Arabic when Jason jumps off the roof, wriggling like a worm desperate to get off the hook before it hits the water. Any luck, he’ll be loose and gone before Drake gets there. He’s got incentive and, pernicious influences notwithstanding, a lot of potential.
Next time Jason emails her, he’ll be sure to let Talia know he said so.
no subject
And now I've got a glorious mental image of Damian charging at Jason, and Jason putting his hand on the kid's head & holding him at arm's length while he punches and kicks & can't reach. Which isn't in the fic 'cos it doesn't work that way, but this was maybe the assassin-vigilante version.
I'm imagining Tim finding him (probably not tied up anymore; it's not like escape from bondage comes late in the Robin-training, especially when it's led by Dick) and Tim staring at the missing R, and not saying anything, and not saying anything, until Damian *has* to say something about it.
I am grinning so much my face hurts. Thank you so much.