#ugh. them

I want him to have affection for people that aren't even his yet. I want him to break them like only angry teenagers can.

I want a teen Bruce who's not concerned with people. I want a teen bruce who's pointing a gun at a thug's face because he's not gonna miss another chance.

I want Jason to slap it out of his hands. " You were going to shoot him!"

" Yeah, in the face, why?"

" That's not...That's not RIGHT. You don't do that."

" Who cares? It's just another street rat."

Jason's entire heart SHATTERS. But there's a very deep, terrible understanding about adult Bruce. There's a hateful thing in him that understands him, now.

And I want Dick to be pushed. I want him to be cornered. I want him to listen to this angry man with a boy's body saying he DOESN'T believe Damian is his kid.

Because he hates kids.

He'd never have one willingly.

" YEAH?! well at least our parents, -- our REAL parents, -- didn't BREAK us. Our parents didn't get to see US grow up, but YOU DID. and youre so pathetic that you cant compete with a GHOST. our lives would've been BETTER if it wasn't for you. And I'm GLAD you never adopted me, because I'll never be your son. I wish you died in that alley."

and yeah, sure, part of his plan was always to turn her over to her dad/use her in some way like that but I don’t think for a second that means he doesn’t still find her interesting. I’m not saying it would’ve been easy for him to have dragged her to Vegas by force but I’m sure he could have. he’s been on his own the whole time, he could survive a trip to Vegas without an extra gun if he wanted to. maybe it crossed his mind and he figured it’d certainly be easier if she was cooperating. but that’s only part of it. he wants to Know what goes on in that head of hers. so he asks. And he tests to see what she says and does. And it’s fascinating.

                                  lila  barks  a  laugh,  one  that  startles  from  her  and  borders  on  incredulous;   ❝  mm,  a  bit  of  a  loaded  question,  don’t  you  think?  ❞   from  where  she’s  half-sprawled  across  his  lap,  she  gets  a  perfect  view  of  his  rapidly  sobering  expression,  which  meant  —  ah.  he’s  being  serious.  she’s  not  getting  out  of  the  conversation,  this  time.  her  smile  fades  just  a  fraction,  hand  coming  to  gently  brush  knuckles  by  his  jaw.  

❝  right,  well.  for  starters,  i’m  a  selfish,  natural-disaster-person.  and  you’ve  got  the  daddy  issues  to  end  all  daddy  issues —  not  to  mention  a  bloody  deathwish.  ❞   really,  she  only  thinks  one  of  them  doesn’t  deserve  it  —  the  happiness.  lila  looks  up  at  him  quietly,  something  small  fracturing  her  veneer.  the  asshole  —  he  was  being  genuine.  

her  hand  drops  away  slowly;   ❝  …  i’m  trying  really  hard  not  to  run,  this  time,  you  know.  ❞   she’s  watching  his  expression  carefully,  brows  knitted  into  a  worry;  she  wants  to  ask  a  question  she  fears  the  answer  to.  it  takes  her  another  moment  to  work  up  to  it,  to  regain  her  footing. 

❝  so...  ‘happy’  —  what  does  it  look  like,  for  you?  what  do  you  picture?  ❞  it  feels  too  raw,  too  vulnerable,  suddenly,  so  she  smiles  at  him  again,  doesn’t  give  the  quiet  a  chance  to  latch  on;    ❝  …  because  if  it  involves  a  white-picket  fence,  you’re  on  your  own,  loverboy.  ❞

Like yeah she’s p out of it so I doubt she’d be in a headspace to fight him or refuse his help bc she was mad at him anyway, but there is something about how she doesn’t. Even later when she can walk on her own there’s no pride or defiance or mention of their little spat. Just a quiet thank you. And then coop not gloating or rubbing it in her face or anything that he helped her or she needed him, etc. just doing the right thing and not really being motivated by needing her later but because it was the right thing to do.