[Trust isn't something Nothing has ever had pan out favorably for it. People take a moment of weakness, a second where Nothing leans on them, and find a way to botch it. Not always purposefully, but when people's lives are on the line, that's hardly any consolation. And magic is not Batman's forte. Nor is it Jason's.
None of them can know exactly what kind of fire they're playing with until they're close enough for it to burn. Better to die attempting to destroy it and leave Batman all its' notes and research into the Scarlet King than bring Batman in for the initial attempt. Content with the idea Nothing was, as always, acting alone, the smug bastard would see no need to relocate. The last notes would name a location. Then he would be the one with his guard down, and this would finally be over.
Unless Nothing doesn't find him before its' time runs out, of course. It has, what, three years left? Maybe four? Is that time enough?
Nothing wonders if this matters, if talking and rambling as if anything it says makes sense is even worth it when it can tell that it's having a bad mental health episode. But for once it manages not to offend Jason, so there's that, at least. At least it hasn't made one person angry. That's about as good as it gets.]
Maman told me not to think about it. Not to think about anything. Ne pense pas, sois bon.. Just do what I was told. So I did. And I do. I just... slip out of myself and do things, whatever the right thing seems to be, for a while. It got worse as I got older. It really got bad after I got my powers and ended up on the street. I don't even remember most of that year clearly, it was that bad.
[Fuck it. It's dying in a few years anyway. Even if Jason does piece together who Nothing used to be, it doesn't matter. And it's so good to finally say something to someone who doesn't automatically take its' dad side. God, that was exhausting, growing up. 'Your dad works hard to provide for you' 'your dad's an immigrant, you don't understand' 'he had to work since he was your age' - never anything to the effect of 'what you did wasn't wrong, actually', let alone praise for an idea. Nothing's shoulders slump, suddenly utterly drained.]
I was better in middle school, when I could stop it from happening mid-anxiety spike, but Ativan's expensive. And a controlled substance. And I doubt Bruce would want to work with me if he knew I'm unstable like this. I... I don't know how to fix myself.
no subject
None of them can know exactly what kind of fire they're playing with until they're close enough for it to burn. Better to die attempting to destroy it and leave Batman all its' notes and research into the Scarlet King than bring Batman in for the initial attempt. Content with the idea Nothing was, as always, acting alone, the smug bastard would see no need to relocate. The last notes would name a location. Then he would be the one with his guard down, and this would finally be over.
Unless Nothing doesn't find him before its' time runs out, of course. It has, what, three years left? Maybe four? Is that time enough?
Nothing wonders if this matters, if talking and rambling as if anything it says makes sense is even worth it when it can tell that it's having a bad mental health episode. But for once it manages not to offend Jason, so there's that, at least. At least it hasn't made one person angry. That's about as good as it gets.]
Maman told me not to think about it. Not to think about anything. Ne pense pas, sois bon.. Just do what I was told. So I did. And I do. I just... slip out of myself and do things, whatever the right thing seems to be, for a while. It got worse as I got older. It really got bad after I got my powers and ended up on the street. I don't even remember most of that year clearly, it was that bad.
[Fuck it. It's dying in a few years anyway. Even if Jason does piece together who Nothing used to be, it doesn't matter. And it's so good to finally say something to someone who doesn't automatically take its' dad side. God, that was exhausting, growing up. 'Your dad works hard to provide for you' 'your dad's an immigrant, you don't understand' 'he had to work since he was your age' - never anything to the effect of 'what you did wasn't wrong, actually', let alone praise for an idea. Nothing's shoulders slump, suddenly utterly drained.]
I was better in middle school, when I could stop it from happening mid-anxiety spike, but Ativan's expensive. And a controlled substance. And I doubt Bruce would want to work with me if he knew I'm unstable like this. I... I don't know how to fix myself.