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Glancing up from his phone, Jason was actually a little surprised that Damian had still not moved a single inch from how he had been standing.
It wasn’t that the complete stillness was an impossible feat, Jason knew full well that the damn brat could be more frozen than a Gargoyle if he so wished, no it was the complete lack of reaction to the young girl that was all at once standing by his side. Damian had taken no action in response to her presence, either to move away from her or to try to engage with her.
No, Damian was still utterly transfixed on what lay beyond the path, beyond even the towering glass wall.
The three snow leopard cubs were still playing, dwarfed not only by the rocks and trees the surrounded them, but by the adult leopard that was laying stretched out a few feet away. Their mother, the sign had declared. She was watching them, perhaps even less closely than Damian was, apparently confident that the play fighting was just that; play.
While there had already been two announcements over the loud speaker that declared that Gotham Zoo would be closing gradually over the next half hour, there were still a dozen people all clustered around the viewing area.
An old man took one final photo through a large lens before shuffling away, leaving the best spot to see the most out of the young cubs but Damian made no move towards it.
The girl bounded over instead, loudly proclaiming to her mother that they were so cute and that they’re were even fluffier from here Mom, you have to come over here! The mother, giving a warm if tired chuckle, came just that little closer.
Jason waited for Damian’s gaze to rove, to reassess his environment even though there was no actual risk to any of them, but his stare never faltered. Jason wasn’t entirely convinced that Damian had even blinked in the last eternity. He considered nudging Damian in the ribs to test that theory but then decided it wasn’t worth the risk of sudden and slightly traumatic amputation.
The little girl was still bouncing on her heels, happily chattering even as her mother ran a hand through her hair.
There was a buzz in the air that became an outright crackle until a voice declared that all animal exhibits will be closing in fifteen minutes.
Before the girl could even get upset about having to leave the snow leopards before she was ready to, the mother was reminding her that they were now going to go out for ice cream. As though she was a leopard herself, the little girl burst into action and disappeared back onto the winding pathways with her Mom following after.
The crowd really was dwindling now, until all that remained was the two of them.
“C’mon, we should probably beat it too.” Jason said. “But don’t you dare go thinking I’m getting you ice cream.”
Damian didn’t move, he didn’t so much as click his tongue. He just stood there, staring, watching as one cub rolled over the top of another.
“Actually, fuck it,” Jason said. “I’m getting myself ice cream and it’s gonna be on your shout. It’s the least you can do after you dragged me around all day.”
At last, the smallest of shifts in Damian’s weight. He didn’t turn, didn’t step closer to the cubs or further away either, he simply readjusted.
Jason did not close the distance between them either, giving Damian time to decide just what it was he wanted to do.
Damian’s right hand flexed, then again. It balled into a fist, trembled for just a moment, loosened once more.
“Kid?”
One of the cubs, the largest of the three, trotted over towards it’s mother. It went to pounce but she batted it lightly instead, managing to pin it to the ground just hard enough so that she could start grooming it.
The cub rolled, it’s tail flicking this way and that, and yet Damian did not fawn. Did not inch closer. Did not step away. Damian simply stayed as he was, still and silent.
“Damian.”
Jason shifted his own weight, making certain he would be in Damian’s peripheral vision well and truly before Jason fully stepped in front of him, blocking his view.
“Damian.”
He kept his voice light and yet Damian flinched hard all the same, head snapping up as a hand rushed to a hidden blade in his sleeve. The blade disappeared once more even before the metal had a chance to glint in the setting sunlight.
“You good?”
Jason expected a scowl, maybe even a sharp quip, but Damian’s shoulders dipped low. His head had lowered even more, his chin practically touching his chest. His eyes were still open but they were now fixed on some arbitrary spot on the ground.
“Yes Sir.”
The words were like a lance to Jason’s chest and in his rush to meet Damian’s eye level, pain exploded in his knees where they collided with concrete.
“I’m not an instructor.” Jason said firmly. “You don’t call me that, yeah? You never have to call me that.”
Jason’s hand hovered an inch above Damian’s arm, never fully touching, yet he saw another shift in Damian’s stance.
The kid, the boy, had relaxed his arm. He had relaxed his because tensing his muscles would have increased the level of pain and injury a direct blow would cause.
“Fuck,” Jason breathed.
He shuffled a little backwards but Damian was still unnaturally still, all except for that arm.
“Damian? Damian, tell me five things you can see right now.”
Jason waited for a retort, for an eyeroll, for a dramatic sigh. He searched Damian’s face for any sign at all that the kid standing in front of him was actually there at all but there was nothing, nothing but an absolute blankness and a relaxed arm ready to be harmed.
“Yes Sir.”
Damian’s voice was devoid of any emotion, of any real intention. The response had been an instinct and nothing more.
“Glass can be used to cut and-”
“No, no,” Jason said. “Not the weapons. Tell me five things that you can see. Good things.”
Damian’s hand flexed, loosened, flexed again.
Green eyes flicked to the left. To the right. Down to the ground. To the left again. Then, so slowly, so slightly it was probably not even worth the effort, Damian raised his head.
“Glass.”
It was a croak this time, a wobbling croak that tried and failed to steady as he continued.
“Glass to decrease the sound that can be heard from the crowds.”
“And?”
“And…” Damian echoed.
He blinked, too quickly, glanced to the left. To the right. Down. Even up for a single instant before it settled back onto the ground.
Damian’s chest was barely shifting at all with breaths but Jason knew that he was hyperventilating all the same.
Reaching out, slowly, so slowly, Jason’s hand grazed against Damian’s.
Sharpened metal pressed into Jason’s skin, a bead of red already building.
Jason didn’t pull away, but he didn’t close the distance either. He just waited. Waited for the small knife to disappear once more. Waited for Damian to take in the slightest of breaths, his gaze once again locked on the ground.
“What’s something else you can see?” Jason asked gently.
“The jugular is the-”
“Dami. Take it slow. What’s something else that’s good?”
Damian’s lips parted but no sound passed through. He blinked, then again. Glanced up for the briefest of moments before his head was once again down. Not simply down, but in a bow.
“Sir?” Damian said stiffly. “What are the parameters of this session?”
“This isn’t training.” Jason said. “I am not your instructor. I’m not a Sir, I’m just Jason. You’re just Damian.”
“White strands.”
Jason was the one to blink now, not quite making sense of Damian’s answer.
He considered asking Damian to elaborate but he didn’t want to accidentally suggest that this really was a training session back at the League so he instead just waited for Damian to say something else that he could see.
“They show that you survived.” Damian said.
“Hmm?”
“White strands.” Damian said, blinking quickly. His gaze shot to his left. To his right. To his left again. “Not all who are exposed to the Lazarus Pits survive to process. Even fewer survive with their minds intact. Your mind is mostly intact.”
“I’ll take the compliment.” Jason said. “So, glass to protect the leopards ears and white streaks that-”
“Panthera uncia.” Damian said. Another too quick blink, another flex of his hand. “Common name Snow Leopard. The target was dispatched. She was protecting her young, Sir. She… she was just trying to protect her young.”
Jason did not know what memory Damian was lost in, all he knew was that lost look in the boy’s eyes. He’d seen those very same eyes in the mirror some nights, the nights where there were too many memories or orders and of blood.
“She is protecting her young.” Jason said. “And she’s doing such a good job too. How many young does she have?”
Damian’s head ducked low.
Jason shifted, just a little, just enough so that Damian could see into the enclosure if he could convince himself to raise his head again. Finally, after an eternity, he did.
“Three.” Damian said. “There’s…”
He swallowed roughly, a tremor running through him that disappeared as quickly as it had come as if Damian thought that he needed to remain perfectly still.
“There’s three, Sir. Todd. There are three, Todd.”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Three little squirts, y’know, they’re probably all pains in the asses too. All little siblings are.”
“Little siblings.” Damian echoed. He blinked. And again. “Glass. White strands. Three cubs. Your shoes are red. They’re ridiculous.”
There was no venom to Damian’s words, but there wasn’t humour either.
“That’s four things.” Jason said, forcing a grin. “One more.”
“Jacket.” Damian said.
Jason tilted his head.
“Good things.” Damian said hollowly. “You… you said good things. Not weapons. It can be a weapon. You can smother someone with it, Sir. It only takes three to six minutes without oxygen for the average target to die. I… I retract my answer. I cannot retract my answer, I-”
Before the boy could spiral further, Jason readjusted just enough for Damian’s attention to snap back to him.
There was a loud crackle, a stranger’s voice all at once booming around them.
Damian dropped low to the ground, poised for attack, hand clasped so tightly on a knife that the tanned skin had lost it’s pallor.
The zoo was closed, all guests must make their way to the exits.
Jason watched as the words turned over in Damian’s head, the reality mixing with the non-existent danger his body had thought that he was in. Mixing, too, with whatever horrific memories were re-emerging.
“She was protecting her cubs.” Damian rasped.
“Damian,”
“A mother protects her young.” Damian said. “Unless the young is not fit for survival. Then… then the mother leaves it.”
It was no longer concrete beneath Jason’s knees but cold tile, an even colder body laid out before him. She hadn’t done it on purpose. It had been an accident, Jason needed it to have been an accident.
She was his Mom, she would have never left him if it hadn’t been an accident.
She hadn’t really been his Mom, not biologically at least, even though Catherine would always be a part of his soul.
Damian’s head was bowed low once more.
“Talia didn’t leave you.” Jason said.
A too quick blink, a silent hitch of Damian’s chest, a glinting of a blade that disappeared into Damian’s sleeve before it was back in his hand again.
“Damian.” Jason said carefully, keeping his voice from becoming too firm. “Talia did not abandon you. She sent you to Bruce to try to keep you safe.”
Damian blinked slowly this time, as though he did not understand the concept of safety at all.
“Good things.” Damian mumbled. “Glass walls to reduce disturbance. White streaks. Three Snow Leopard cubs. Red shoes. Warm jackets. Good things. There’s good things.”
“Yeah, Kiddo, there’s so many good things.”
“Glass to cut. Fabric to smother. Boots to break bones. I will demonstrate, Sir, any skill that you wish for me to demonstrate.”
“Damian. There’s nothing to demonstrate. You don’t need to prove yourself to me, to anyone. You’re allowed to just be you. And, you’re allowed to be scared too.”
Damian trembled, then trembled even more strongly. He was still braced to pounce, not unlike the small cub from before. But this would not be in play. If Damian attacked now, it would be a matter of life or death to him, even if this situation did not need such a strong response.
But then Damian’s arms were wrapping around his legs. His head ducked behind his knees, those glassy eyes shielded.
It was a sign of complete trust, for Damian to position himself like that with only Jason to protect him, a sign that Jason did not take lightly.
Damian made a sound, the smallest of sounds as if he was worried he would be punished for whining too loudly.
The boy started muttering to himself, about good things and about blood and about zoo days and about withstanding torture without ever giving up so much as your name.
He had begun to rock too, just a little, just enough that Jason remembered being much younger than even Damian was now. Younger and smaller and a hell of a lot more scared, wondering what it was he was going to do now that his Mom was gone.
Jason moved slowly but Damian still flinched long before the jacket was ever wrapped around his shoulders.
Damian was shifting again, as though to shrug off the fabric so that he could more easily attack or defend. The jacket never fell, Damian’s hands curling into the fabric, tucking it so close around himself that he nearly disappeared into it.
“Todd.”
It was a whisper, one from a broken child terrified of breaking further.
“It’s me, Babybat.”
Damian’s nod was small, his lip wobbling.
Jason waited, for what exactly he wasn’t sure, wanting Damian to be the one to decide what happened next.
There was another nod, this one a little stronger, before green eyes were meeting Jason’s own.
“The Gotham Zoo is closing.” Damian said simply. “We must take our leave so that the keepers may do all it is they need to do.”
He turned crisply, Jason’s jacket still wrapped around his shoulders. Jason followed after him, not as an instructor or fellow prisoner of the League, not as a once traumatised child who had just seen himself reflected in Damian’s terror.
No, Jason simply followed as an older brother who would kill to have an ice cream, a brother who reached forward to ruffle Damian’s hair only to think better of it when one of Damian’s legs kicked backwards into his knee.