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Because it's been a lifetime for both of them. Because Jon was there one day and gone the next - taken someplace where Damian could never follow. Jon was missing and Damian couldn't find him, help him, save him.
Because Jon was a bright-eyed boy stolen away before he was beaten to be something less and forged into something more. He's different in all the ways that matter and all the ways that don't.
For all the relief Jon feels to be home, he's resentful that he was brought back to a place he doesn't fit anymore.
It's painful. It's distressing. And Jon wants to be that warm, kindhearted, foolhardy boy he was before - adaptable and adventurous, untouchable and invincible because youth is that way, but Jon thinks that boy burned and all that's been left behind is brittle obsidian - sharper than steel and easily broken.
"From your heartbeat."
Because seven years is too many, but even a lifetime couldn't be enough for Jon to forget it.
His pulse. His breaths. The way his feet strike the earth. His smooth-spoken articulate, the click of his tongue. The way he mourns and the stillness that follows it.
"You know my heartbeat?"
Intimately. Ardently. Jon listened for it across time and space and circumstance - only Jon could never tell if it was something he genuinely heard or if he clung so hard to his memories of it that he was able to delude himself into thinking it was there.
"Yeah." Jon breathes, eyes closing so that he can listen for it again - so it can be all he hears.
"What is it like?"
"Steady. Strong." Jon tells Damian around a fond, melancholic smile. Vulnerability might blindside Damian always and forever, but it's been a lifetime for both of them and Jon is - everything has changed and he hasn't found the good in it yet; he's home, but he doesn't fit anymore. "I missed it."
There's a beat and it's not so much that Damian's heart stutters so much as it settles. Because Damian knows. He feels it, too.
I missed you.
"I don’t know yours." Damian admits after a few beats more. "I only know what it is to be without it."
"What’s it like?" Jon asks.
City lights pollute the sky, but far below where they stand on a high-rise, the yellow-gold glow from windows and the flash of traffic stops and taillights feels as beautiful as any star. The noise is easy to let fall away. All Jon hears is the wind and the slow breaths Damian takes that keeps his heart thumping strong in his chest.
"Lonely."
Terribly.
Dreadfully.
"And now?"
Damian turns and finally they make eye contact again. There's a pensiveness to Damian's expression as they take one another in. Making note of all the things that changed because Jon is different now. He feels different in all the ways that matter and all the ways that don't. Jon is home, but he doesn't fit.
The way Damian has to look up, up to meet Jon's gaze is wrong. For all Jon wanted to grow and torment Damian for being the smaller of them, Jon finds no joy in it now.
It feels like something was stolen from him and he mourns it. Anger burns hot through his veins, like ice in his lungs. It's as twisted as Jon feels - tormented until it's something unrecognizable; rage and wrath and anguish. Grief.
Jon wants to go back to that time he was young and brash and untouched by the unfairness in the world. A lifetime has passed and he doesn't know how he fits. He is not steel; he is volcanic glass and every breath he takes feels like it pierces his lungs and Jon is meant to be strong, but all at once the world is unbearably heavy and-
Damian drops his head to Jon's chest and - oh. Everything settles.
"A beat too quick, but strong. Resilient." Damian tells him and Jon blinks hard against the burn in his eyes. There's a lump in his throat that he can't swallow past and if Damian feels the hitch in Jon's chest - he says nothing of it. All Damian does is rest his head over Jon's heart, counting the beats until Jon lets go of his tentativeness and uncertainty and brings his arms around his friend and holds him close, closer until Jon can take Damian's steadily beating heart into his own chest - so that no more lifetimes will pass where he can't feel it. Damian's own arms reach around Jon, his too broad shoulders and the too large span of his back. Damian heaves a sigh and clicks his tongue and Jon doesn't need to see it to know that Damian's scowl has stayed the same. "Never let me be without it, now that I know."
A watery smile pulls at his lips as Jon breaks forward over himself - trying to be small where he is not. He nods, unwittingly lifting Damian off the ground despite Damian's grunts of protest if only to be closer to him after a lifetime apart and marvel the ways Damian has changed - the ways he hasn't.
Jon doesn’t feel himself after everything. Safety and security is something stolen from him - he doesn’t know how to go back to the life he lost. It’s overwhelming, so he closes his eyes and feels Damian's heart beat against his and lets it be his anchor.
