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“Absolutely not.” Jason said. “I’m not playing babysitter.”
“I hardly need a babysitter, I just need someone with a drivers licence, Akhi.”
“You really think calling me Akhi is gonna make me soft? I’m not Dick.”
Damian gave an innocent smile, tilting his head just so.
“Get in the damn car.” Jason growled.
In an instant, the smile was dropped like it was never there and when Damian Wayne took a step forward, he dropped too.
Jason surged forward, barely keeping Damian’s head from hitting the pavement. Damian’s eyes were already open again but they were dazed and when Damian glanced up at Jason, Damian’s hand suddenly swung towards his face, one of his little hidden knives clutched within.
It wasn’t just instinct that let Jason catch Damian’s wrist but the attack in and of itself was sloppy and Jason twisted Damian’s wrist, the knife falling between them.
Damian blinked quickly, coming back to himself fully, his breathing strangely loud. Then, when he looked up at Jason again, he immediately controlled his breathing and expression it as if he had not just passed out.
“Todd.” He said cooly.
“What the hell was that, brat?”
“I had a lapse in judgment. It will not happen again.”
He pushed himself up off the ground but stumbled, though at least this time he didn’t immediately lash out at Jason when Jason steadied him. Damian swallowed roughly, gripping onto Jason’s arm.
Jason quickly assessed him, looking for blood or any sign of injury, but there was none. Damian’s eyes were still a little glassy but when Jason felt his forehead, much to Damian’s irritation, there was no sign of fever.
“Unhand me, Todd.” Damian said.
Jason huffed, looking down at where Damian was the one clutching onto him. Still, after making sure that Damian wasn’t going to fall, he backed off a little.
“When was the last time you slept?” Jason asked.
Damian ignored him, going towards the car.
“Oh absolutely the fuck not, I’m not taking you anywhere like this.”
“I’ll drive myself then.” Damian said. “I’m sure Father will be happy to once again be notified of an unlicensed minor driving one of his cars.”
Jason easily got in front of Damian, standing between the demon brat and the car and crossing his arms tightly.
Damian went to walk around him anyway but then he was blinking quickly again. He swayed, righted himself, then swayed again.
“I ask again.” Jason growled. “When the hell was the last time you slept?”
“I do not answer to you, Todd.”
“Either you’re injured or sick,” Jason said. “Neither of which are good things because if you’ve hidden another injury, I swear I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“I am uninjured.” Damian said.
“So then you’ve done a Tim.”
Damian’s eyes flared.
“I am nothing like Drake.” Damian said lowly.
“You’ve gotten to the point of exhaustion where your body just says fuck this and makes you pass out. You’re exactly like Drakey-Boy.”
“I am no-”
Damian tilted.
For a moment, he had almost righted himself again. Then, his knees gave out completely and Jason had no choice but to guide him fully to the ground, keeping Damian from hurting himself on the way down. Damian’s eyes were already closed and Jason readjusted, tugging Damian fully into his arms.
Damian’s head lulled against Jason’s chest as he stood.
He seemed so small like this, breathing slowly but evenly. Jason wasn’t really sure if he was unconscious or just asleep but he was still careful bringing Damian back inside the manor. The boy never slept this easily and even if he usually did, this exhaustion was apparently absolute.
However long Damian had gone without sleep, it had been far passed his limit.
With Dick in Blüdhaven and Bruce acting as good ol’ Brucie Wayne at an event, Jason’s next thought was to consult Alfred. Except Alfred, just Damian’s luck, was also out for the day.
As soon as Jason set Damian down onto the couch, Damian hummed, blindly reaching out for Jason’s warmth but not quite fully stirring.
“Just hold on kid.” Jason said, voice tight.
Grabbing his phone, Jason looked through the contacts and weighed up how serious this was. If it was really just exhaustion, Damian would just need rest and food. If the brat had been poisoned or hurt somehow, Jason could very well be in over his head.
Jason’s finger hovered above Bruce’s contact. The name being Non-Sperm Donor Sperm Donor seemed a hell of a lot less funny with Bruce’s actual kid passed out in front of him and he couldn’t quite bring himself to pressing onto it.
Jason lent on the arm of the couch, glancing down at Damian’s sleeping form, and called Leslie Thompkin’s instead.
“What did you do this time?” The doctor said, picking up on the second ring.
“Who said I did anything?” Jason growled back.
“You’re calling me.” She pointed out.
“Damian collapsed.” He said. “I think it’s just exhaustion, there’s no sign or fever or whatever but… I dunno. Thought I should tell someone.”
“Are you at the manor?”
It sounded like she was already getting ready to come over and while Jason was glad, some weird part of him wanted to hide Damian away from the world and tend to him by himself even though Damian was an absolute pain in the ass at the best of times.
“Yeah.” Jason said.
“I can be there in half an hour.” Leslie said. “And Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for calling.”
Jason’s chest felt warm.
Leslie hung up and Jason was once again alone with Damian.
Jason looked around, wondering wether he should use Tim’s weighted blanket or just a normal one. Damian didn’t always do well with the weight, sometimes it soothed him like it did Tim but other times he would feel cornered like Jason himself did and it would just make everything worse.
Picking up the normal blanket, he draped it across Damian. He half expected Damian to spring up anyway and try to attack him again but the demon brat just snuggled into it, letting off a deep sigh.
Jason tried to coax Damian’s head onto a pillow next but Damian’s expression twisted and he squirmed in his sleep. He then tried a slightly different one but the fussy brat hated it even more and his breathing picked up.
Eventually, Jason just shifted Damian so that he could sit down beside him, Damian using Jason’s lap as a pillow.
Damian sighed contently once more, never once fully waking.
Jason absentmindedly ran fingers through his hair, with the reasoning of checking for fever of course. Damian’s breathing had fully evened out once more, settling into the new position as if it was perfect. Except maybe he wasn’t quite completely still after all. His arm kept shifting beneath the blanket, only slightly, but the longer Jason sat there the more his attention was drawn to it.
Jason frowned.
He gently took Damian’s arm from beneath the blanket, wondering if one of his daggers was somehow digging into him, but he suddenly remembered that the knife from that hidden sheath was still outside by the car.
Jason was unnerved by how Damian let him loosen and take off the hidden sheath but his hand was still flexing uncomfortably.
“Brat?” Jason mumbled.
Damian whimpered.
While Jason had gotten used to his own scars and those of his family, he had never really paid attention to Damian’s. The kid often wore jackets and long pants, both to hide his various weapons and because no matter how long he had been here by now, Gotham was still too cold for him.
Jason had never considered what else Damian might be hiding but now he saw a deep scar that ran across his wrist. Whatever had broken the skin, it had been a serious injury. As Jason shifted Damian’s hand, seeing how the scar nearly went around the entire way, Damian flinched.
Damian snatched his hand back, shooting up from off of Jason’s lap with both a dagger and a glare, nearly getting tangled in the blanket in his rush to get off.
“Don’t touch me.” Damian hissed.
“What happened to it?” Jason asked.
“I will drive myself.” Damian decided. “I have no use for you Todd, run along.”
“What happened?” Jason asked again more firmly.
Damian glared harder but Jason didn’t miss how his hand was still adjusting and flexing like it was aching but nothing seemed to sooth it.
“Damian.” Jason said.
Damian twisted on his heel to leave.
“You know,” Jason said. “My scars hurt too.”
He lent back a little on the couch, stretching out his bad knee.
“Some days, it’s manageable.” Jason continued. “Barely even notice them. Others though… Other days it hurts worse than when it happened. Makes it hard to fight. To function. To sleep, even.”
“I am not weak.” Damian said, voice low but Jason still heard the shake in it. “I am the grand son of Ra’s al Ghoul and the son of Bruce Wayne.” “Which means you’ve got a fuck tonne of scars.” Jason said. “And daddy issues, I’m sure.”
Damian twisted back just enough to side eye Jason.
“So,” Jason said. “What happened to your wrist?”
For a long moment, it was up in the air on wether or not Damian was just going to ignore him and walk away but Jason knew that he was still absolutely exhausted, a forced power nap for a few minutes was hardly going to fix days of sleeplessness.
“Joker.” Damian whispered.
Jason tried to hide his flinch but Damian must have seen it anyway because he huffed and made for the door, back to Jason.
“Wait.” Jason called after him, scrambling up.
Damian’s legs faltered by the doorway and he had to catch himself against it. He growled in annoyance and pushed himself onwards again.
Before Damian could get far, Jason pinned him against the wall. Damian’s eyes flared but he didn’t reach for any weapons and while it was obvious he was trying to hide it, his hand was shaking.
“When the fuck did that bastard get his hands on you?”
“It hardly matters.” Damian said.
“Yes it fucking does,” Jason snapped. “Judging from that scar, you could have lost your whole damn hand!”
“Richard ensured that I did not. Let go or I will make you let go.”
“Dick knew?”
“Todd, it was years ago.”
“And it’s still bothering you.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement.
“Of course not.” Damian said. “Because I am not weak. I cannot be weak.”
“Having old injuries flare up isn’t weak, Kid.” Jason said. “It just means that you survived getting them in the first place. You fought the Joker. You survived. Not everyone… Not everyone can do that.”
Damian glanced away, now leaning on the wall instead of having Jason press him up against it.
Then, he slowly raised his arm, letting Jason get a closer look. Jason carefully felt the groves of scarring and felt the bone itself grind a little.
“Go sit down,” Jason said. “I’ll bind it. It might ease the pain a little.”
Leslie was still on her way anyway but Jason considered giving her the all clear. Now that it was obvious it was just chronic pain, Jason might be able to use the techniques he already knew to help manage it before subjecting Damian to an actual examination.
Damian made no attempt to move.
“Kid.” Jason huffed. “I’m not giving you a choice here.”
“I… I can’t move.”
He was fully braced up against the wall now, eye lids heavy. The poor brat was utterly exhausted and now that he wasn’t arguing, it had hit him all at once.
“If I lift you up, you’re not gonna try stabbing me again, will you? Because I swear, I will drop you.”
Damian considered it for a long moment.
“Really?” Jason growled.
Damian’s lip twitched into a weak smirk.
“I could still take you.” Damian said as Jason lifted him.
Jason just rolled his eyes, carrying him back through the hallway to the lounge room. When he set Damian down onto the couch this time, Damian was able to right himself. He kicked off his shoes, then thought better of it and neatened them, and sat cross legged with his arms crossed too.
Suddenly wondering if he should be leaving Damian alone, not so much in case he passed out but more in the very real possibility that he was going to try to run off, Jason left anyway to get a wrist brace. Just as he got close to the hallway though, Damian spoke.
“He blindfolded me.”
Jason didn’t turn around. He couldn’t.
“I was tied to a chair and he blindfolded me. Made me guess which hand he was going to break. I was correct, of course. But he… He broke my leg too, because I didn’t cry out. I didn’t make it any fun for him.”
Jason swallowed roughly, ribs aching from blows long ago.
“I don’t need your pity.” Damian said quickly. “You wanted to know. Now you know.”
He left Damian there, needing to take a moment in the hallway for himself. A finger traced through his shirt on the Y on his chest. While Joker technically didn’t carve that particular scar out, he still in a way caused it.
And now Joker had caused Damian permanent pain too. Though, Jason supposed, he’d done it in the years that Dick was Damian’s sole carer. Jason couldn’t even be angry with Dick for letting it happen, he could only imagine what it would have been like for him to know that Joker had gotten to another one of his brothers.
No, Jason could hardly blame Damian for not saying anything either because it had taken Jason years to ever admit to anyone how his scars still hurt as if they had just been made. He had thought himself weak, pathetic. He’d been killed then revived and now he was complaining of a little chronic pain.
But it had gotten too much one day. He remembered sobbing into Bruce’s chest, the sudden cold snap utterly destroying him. He hadn’t even been back on good terms with Bruce at that point, they’d been fighting just a moment before and then Bruce had stopped and had asked where he was hurting because his Dad would always know when he was in pain.
Feeling steadier, Jason continued on through the house. He found the little box of braces in the kitchen, glad he didn’t have to go all the way to the infirmary, and brought back two options that should be able to fit Damian’s much smaller wrists.
When he finally got back to the lounge room, he found that Damian was curled up on the couch, sleeping again, with Alfred the Cat curled up against him.
Jason smiled gently, glad to see that Damian had even stayed let alone felt safe enough to sleep.
He quietly came over, set the bigger brace on the coffee table while he carefully picked up Damian’s scarred wrist. While his eyes did not open, his breathing had shifted a little and Jason was certain that he was actually at least partially awake.
Putting the brace on was easy enough, strapping it in place, and just from the pressure alone his hand was shaking considerably less.
Jason sat beside him, waiting for Leslie, and Damian was the one to shuffle up so that his head was resting on Jason’s lap. Damian hummed as Jason ran fingers through his hair, leaning into the touch.
“Thank you Akhi…” Damian mumbled.
And maybe Jason was getting soft like Dick was because oh how his heart felt warm at that word.