[ Jason doesn't go straight upstairs once he leaves the cave. he takes a detour through the main sitting room, the halls where he'd ride his bike with chaos and joy, through the empty places he never thought he'd step foot in again. being back here is a strange and painful thing.
when he left this place, it was so abrupt. no one ever plans on dying, though. not many get to come back either, and Jason's still on the fence about that one. he had been on the edge of a roof once, ready to jump. maybe he should have stayed dead. then all those people would still be alive.
it's strange, walking through this place now. without Alfred here it seems darker, quieter, like a giant mausoleum. maybe after his death, after Alfred's, that's exactly what Bruce turned it into. and yet it still feels like home. the only one Jason's ever really had. even after all this, it makes him feel eager to be in his old room again. sleeping in his old bed, so that's finally where he goes.
except sleep doesn't come easy- it never does, but tonight feels the hardest. he can't stop thinking about Bruce, about what this is, about what this is going to turn into. when it becomes too frustrating to just lay here, he moves quietly through the manor, down to the kitchen. he remembers those times there would be a midnight snack waiting for him, instead now there's Bruce.
there's a fleeting moment where Jason thinks it might be better if he'd just turn and leave, but he's tired. he's tired of fighting and running, and letting his anger burn him up from the inside. he just wants a moment in his home to stand still and rest. ]
Can't sleep.
[he's cautious as he approaches, eyes steady on Bruce, hairs raised along his skin. very much like a feral cat testing for signs of danger. when he gets close enough, he leans against the counter, nodding his head towards the glass.]
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when he left this place, it was so abrupt. no one ever plans on dying, though. not many get to come back either, and Jason's still on the fence about that one. he had been on the edge of a roof once, ready to jump. maybe he should have stayed dead. then all those people would still be alive.
it's strange, walking through this place now. without Alfred here it seems darker, quieter, like a giant mausoleum. maybe after his death, after Alfred's, that's exactly what Bruce turned it into. and yet it still feels like home. the only one Jason's ever really had. even after all this, it makes him feel eager to be in his old room again. sleeping in his old bed, so that's finally where he goes.
except sleep doesn't come easy- it never does, but tonight feels the hardest. he can't stop thinking about Bruce, about what this is, about what this is going to turn into. when it becomes too frustrating to just lay here, he moves quietly through the manor, down to the kitchen. he remembers those times there would be a midnight snack waiting for him, instead now there's Bruce.
there's a fleeting moment where Jason thinks it might be better if he'd just turn and leave, but he's tired. he's tired of fighting and running, and letting his anger burn him up from the inside. he just wants a moment in his home to stand still and rest. ]
Can't sleep.
[he's cautious as he approaches, eyes steady on Bruce, hairs raised along his skin. very much like a feral cat testing for signs of danger. when he gets close enough, he leans against the counter, nodding his head towards the glass.]
Got another one of those?