Jason could feel his lip lifting a little with Dick's words and he made himself look away from the other man. Made himself stay quiet and focus on forcing that static buzzing of rage inside him back down to acceptable levels.
He didn't want to fight. He'd done that, he'd been there. Granted, it had been with Bruce and not Dick, but the result had been a Batarang to his throat and Bruce choosing the Joker over him. Why would the result be any different with Dick? Hell, Dick hadn't even liked him for most of the time that he'd worn the green booty shorts and pixie boots. So no, letting his anger get a hold on him was just going to get him kicked out of the Manor and out of Damian's life. Again.
While his son and his brother verbally sniped it out, Jason focused on his breathing. A League technique that he'd learned that first year after the Pit, when his emotional dysregulation was at it's worst. He'd kept the habit, a clear tell for Damian for when Jason's emotions were riding too high and he needed a break from whatever situation he was in.
Eventually, slowly, his muscles started to loosen and relax and when he opened his eyes again, he was able to look at Dick without wanting to just slam his door in the alpha's face.
"This is gunna take time, Dick. I'm...I don't know how much time, so don't ask. I just- this isn't something that is just going to go away overnight. I've missed you, but I'm still so fucking mad at you and I'm even more mad at B." His hand went to his throat, bare this time since he was in a t-shirt and not his uniform. "Right now, I'm here for my pup. Time and space, okay? And if I walk the fuck away or close the door or whatever...just leave me be for a bit. Okay? Those are my terms. Time, space, and respect."
Dick watched Jason, even as he spoke to Damian, watching the way he settled his expression as he breathed. Dick longed to hug him, to ask him a million questions about the League and Damian and HOW.
But Dick had grown up too, and he took a deep breath of his own. "I can give you time. I can try to answer anything you want to know, if it will help you. Just ... don't vanish on us, Jason. Please."
"He will not. He wasn't aware I was alive," Damian said. "He wouldn't leave me."
Dick blinked. "The League told you he was dead?" Dick asked, note of anger on Jason's behalf rumbling in his throat for a moment before he calmed himself down. "I'll listen to the rules you lay down give you the space you need. Just - I'm sorry I didn't know. That you were alive, that you were with the League, about Damian - all of it."
It sounded honest and for the first time, Jason remembered that Dick hadn't actually seen him since before his death. Talia had shown him pictures that proved that Dick hadn't been at his funeral, but he'd done his own research after his defeat at Bruce's hands. Dick had been offworld when he'd died, on a mission with the Titans.
Had Bruce even told him? The old man had an unhealthy relationship with secrets, after all. Jason wouldn't put it past him to not tell Dick so that the news of his death didn't throw off whatever mission Dick had been working on. It didn't stop him from being pissed that Dick hadn't done anything to Joker....
but also, Dick wasn't a killer. Not like he'd turned out to be.
The little grumble of anger pulled Jason out of his own thoughts, amusement clear even on the hard line of his lips. There was the Dick he'd known, all flash fury and instinctual impulses. Once upon a time that had triggered the biggest crush for the Alpha...but that was then and they'd grown. Right?
"He's a hardass who keeps his secrets to himself. You could have dug harder, don't think for a moment that you're completely off the hook, but I get it." He paused, glancing back at Damian for a moment before he huffed and made himself stand up. He was going to have to get used to everyone's scent in his space anyway, right? Might as well let it be Dick's first. "Now make yourself useful and grab a box. Just...for a little bit."
Dick had taken a long time to forgive Bruce for not calling him home for the funeral - and he still hadn't forgiven himself for not taking more time with Jason while he was alive. He'd been too caught up in his constant strife with Bruce, with the Titans, with dating drama - things that all seemed a lot less important than Jason in hindsight. His rage over that had contributed to his breaking point when he thought Joker had killed Tim, too, and Dick beat him to death. Bruce brought him back, and some days Dick still couldn't decide if it had been worth saving Joker to keep Dick from being a murderer. Most days, Dick still wished he was dead.
He didn't deny Bruce being a hardass. He WANTED to argue that he hadn't even known to LOOK, but Dick refrained. He wanted to keep their fragile peace and worm his way into Jason's good graces and presence as much as possible.
"Boxes I can do," Dick said instead with a bright smile, going to obediently fetch one.
Damian made a little huff at his cozy nest time being disturbed, but he stood up too, waiting for Jason's direction before moving to help too. Which was more than Damian tended to do for any other manual labor not related to training.
Unfortunately, Jason didn't know about Dick's moment of less than stellar control. He didn't know that Dick actually had avenged him. If he did, his reaction to the other man would have been very different. After all, all he ever wanted was for someone to love him without making him feel like he had to earn it first.
Damian helped a lot with that, his pup offering quite a bit of that familial affection, but also Damian helped him realize exactly how much he'd gone through. Both as a kid and as Robin. His life hadn't been easy from word go and it was only in the quiet of his bedroom, his pup's soft breathing in his ears, that he was able to recognize that.
Maybe he'd take Bruce up on his offer of setting up an appointment with a therapist.
Eventually.
For as long as it took to move things into the Manor, between the three of them the bedroom came together fairly quickly. His books finally had a home on a bookshelf instead of just in a neat stack by the bed. His computer (minus the CPU. The would come up once Bruce was satisfied of it's contents) had a new home on his desk. His clothes barely scratched the surface of the closet and Jason chuckled softly as he ruffled Damian's hair.
"Look, my room comes with a built in pup room for when you're stealing all my blankets." He was teasing, scent relaxed and content for probably the first time since he'd gotten back to the Manor and he grinned as he tossed the freshly emptied box in Dick's direction. "Head's up, big bird. I'm starving. Who'd be up for some shakshuka?"
For all of his facemaking over what Damian tended to see as "servant labor" (even if he'd learned not to see Alfred in that light by now) he stepped up to help fully, carefully arranging the books alphabetically, and hanging up clothes - tutting at the state of some of them.
He rolled his eyes at Jason's joke, but looked more amused than annoyed. "I do have my own room here, should you want to spend a night free of theft." Damian DID take blankets. He preferred to sleep like a burrito.
Dick looked between them, surprised Damian would even want to keep sleeping with his bearer. It made sense for most children, if they'd been torn apart this long. But Damian always strove to seem so ADULT ... he must have missed Jason like crazy for him to just curl up in a nest with him without caring what people thought. It made Dick sad to think they'd been torn apart.
He caught the box Jason tossed. Pulling it apart to break down and then grinning. "I'm game," he said - only a vague idea of what shakshuka was in his head, but that didn't matter. "Am I going to be turning red and gulping water?" Dick had a healthy appreciation for spice, but some of what Damian liked had him overheating. Not that it stopped him from trying it.
"It is mostly mild," Damian said. By his standards, anyway. "That would be acceptable," he decided. "Do you know of a place that does it well?"
"Nah, that just means I need to grab an extra blanket so you can wrap yourself up to your hearts content."
He smirked softly at the idea of Dick trying to keep up with their spice levels, shaking his head as he raised his arms up over his head so he could give himself a full body stretch. The work hadn't been hard, but a lot of it was bending and sorting and pregnancy had made his back a little prone to over tightening. Even now, his body trained back into peak performance, his backstraps had their quirks.
Honestly, the hardest part about being confined to the Manor was going to be finding the motivation to keep his training routine. He'd found that even while nursing a voraciously hungry infant, without his workouts, he tended to go a little soft around his middle. It was common for omegas who'd had pups, but it was still annoying.
"In Gotham? There are a couple of places, but I'm not sure they deliver. Are you so tired of your baba's cooking already, habibi?" He lightly flicked Damian's ear, not a gesture meant to hurt but just to tease. It was less invasive than a hair tussle for the times when his son still needed to be presentable after his mothering. "Relax, Dickie. It's tomatoes, bell peppers, and eggs. Mostly. There are some spices, but I'll make sure you don't die."
When Jason stretched, Dick's eyes flicked over him, because he was human and his Little Wing had grown up very good looking.
"Don't make fun," he whined, playfully. "Circus food was mass produced for the whole troop usually, there wasn't a lot of heat in it."
Damian looked a little surprised, and then pleased. "I didn't know that you'd dare enter Alfred's domain. You cooking is acceptable." He hesitated and then offered. "I could assist you." Damian had been raised to think manual labor was beneath him (not Jason's doing), and never raised a finger in the kitchen despite Timothy's complaints. He just liked the idea of watching his father cook and handing him what he needed.
Dick did a doubletake and then mouthed "WOW" at Jason with zero subtlety.
He snorted softly, turning an amused look at Dick before he reached out to tug Damian in against his side.
"Well, prepare to have your horizons expanded, Dickie bird. Come on, habibi. Unlike your father and Dickie over there, I'm not banned from the kitchen." He smirked, ushering everyone out of his bedroom and closing the door behind him before heading for the stairs.
It was a little surreal navigating this house again, but he hadn't forgotten the way. He'd never actually gotten to cook in this kitchen with Alfred when he'd lived here before, but he was hoping that might change one day soon. For today, however, the room was empty, Alfred no doubt down in the Cave with Bruce.
He let his fingers trail lightly over the familiar countertops before he let himself smile.
"Alright, habibi. Go grab a couple chairs, hmm? One for Dick to sit in so he doesn't try to help and end up burning the Manor down, and the other you can stand on so you can help me chop up veggies."
Dick smiled and moved to follow. "As prepared as I can be," he promised.
Damian rolled his eyes but his small hand fisted at the bottom of his baba's hoodie as he was tugged in against his side.
Dick caught the mood and gave Jason a soft sort of smile over Damian's head.
Damian clearly wanted to protest that he didn't need a CHAIR ... but truthfully the counters were slightly too high. So he scowled, but went with it, dragging a chair over.
Dick pouted. "Hey, I haven't burned anything yet," he protested. But he sank down in his own chair obligingly, just kind of fascinated to watch the parent-child relationship at play.
He caught that scowl and understood the meaning behind it, but Damian still dragged the chair over as requested and Jason placed a cutting board and a wickedly sharp paring knife down in front of him.
"There is no shame in using your environment to achieve proper body mechanics, habibi. It's no different than taking out an opponent's knees to bring them down so you can deliver a knockout blow. You are young. Eventually you won't need the chair or to take out someone's knees, but for today you do. I did too, at your age. A little older, actually. Ask Dickie bird, I was about your size when I was Robin and I was three years older then you when I wore it."
A lesson, a reassurance, and a gentle check of Damian's ego all wrapped up with the amusing image of himself so small. He apparently wasn't half bad at this whole 'parenting' thing. It helped that Talia and Ra's (and Willis and Bruce) had shown him exactly what he didn't want to do as a parent.
He brought over the pre-washed peppers and tomatoes, nimbly handling the knife as he showed Damian how to de-seed and slice. "Here, put the sliced pieces into this bowl, the seeds into that one and I'll start prepping the pan."
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no subject
He didn't want to fight. He'd done that, he'd been there. Granted, it had been with Bruce and not Dick, but the result had been a Batarang to his throat and Bruce choosing the Joker over him. Why would the result be any different with Dick? Hell, Dick hadn't even liked him for most of the time that he'd worn the green booty shorts and pixie boots. So no, letting his anger get a hold on him was just going to get him kicked out of the Manor and out of Damian's life. Again.
While his son and his brother verbally sniped it out, Jason focused on his breathing. A League technique that he'd learned that first year after the Pit, when his emotional dysregulation was at it's worst. He'd kept the habit, a clear tell for Damian for when Jason's emotions were riding too high and he needed a break from whatever situation he was in.
Eventually, slowly, his muscles started to loosen and relax and when he opened his eyes again, he was able to look at Dick without wanting to just slam his door in the alpha's face.
"This is gunna take time, Dick. I'm...I don't know how much time, so don't ask. I just- this isn't something that is just going to go away overnight. I've missed you, but I'm still so fucking mad at you and I'm even more mad at B." His hand went to his throat, bare this time since he was in a t-shirt and not his uniform. "Right now, I'm here for my pup. Time and space, okay? And if I walk the fuck away or close the door or whatever...just leave me be for a bit. Okay? Those are my terms. Time, space, and respect."
((So sorry, I thought I'd answered this!))
But Dick had grown up too, and he took a deep breath of his own. "I can give you time. I can try to answer anything you want to know, if it will help you. Just ... don't vanish on us, Jason. Please."
"He will not. He wasn't aware I was alive," Damian said. "He wouldn't leave me."
Dick blinked. "The League told you he was dead?" Dick asked, note of anger on Jason's behalf rumbling in his throat for a moment before he calmed himself down. "I'll listen to the rules you lay down give you the space you need. Just - I'm sorry I didn't know. That you were alive, that you were with the League, about Damian - all of it."
(No worries at all ^_^ I'll backtag forevers. XD)
It sounded honest and for the first time, Jason remembered that Dick hadn't actually seen him since before his death. Talia had shown him pictures that proved that Dick hadn't been at his funeral, but he'd done his own research after his defeat at Bruce's hands. Dick had been offworld when he'd died, on a mission with the Titans.
Had Bruce even told him? The old man had an unhealthy relationship with secrets, after all. Jason wouldn't put it past him to not tell Dick so that the news of his death didn't throw off whatever mission Dick had been working on. It didn't stop him from being pissed that Dick hadn't done anything to Joker....
but also, Dick wasn't a killer. Not like he'd turned out to be.
The little grumble of anger pulled Jason out of his own thoughts, amusement clear even on the hard line of his lips. There was the Dick he'd known, all flash fury and instinctual impulses. Once upon a time that had triggered the biggest crush for the Alpha...but that was then and they'd grown. Right?
"He's a hardass who keeps his secrets to himself. You could have dug harder, don't think for a moment that you're completely off the hook, but I get it." He paused, glancing back at Damian for a moment before he huffed and made himself stand up. He was going to have to get used to everyone's scent in his space anyway, right? Might as well let it be Dick's first. "Now make yourself useful and grab a box. Just...for a little bit."
(<3)
He didn't deny Bruce being a hardass. He WANTED to argue that he hadn't even known to LOOK, but Dick refrained. He wanted to keep their fragile peace and worm his way into Jason's good graces and presence as much as possible.
"Boxes I can do," Dick said instead with a bright smile, going to obediently fetch one.
Damian made a little huff at his cozy nest time being disturbed, but he stood up too, waiting for Jason's direction before moving to help too. Which was more than Damian tended to do for any other manual labor not related to training.
no subject
Damian helped a lot with that, his pup offering quite a bit of that familial affection, but also Damian helped him realize exactly how much he'd gone through. Both as a kid and as Robin. His life hadn't been easy from word go and it was only in the quiet of his bedroom, his pup's soft breathing in his ears, that he was able to recognize that.
Maybe he'd take Bruce up on his offer of setting up an appointment with a therapist.
Eventually.
For as long as it took to move things into the Manor, between the three of them the bedroom came together fairly quickly. His books finally had a home on a bookshelf instead of just in a neat stack by the bed. His computer (minus the CPU. The would come up once Bruce was satisfied of it's contents) had a new home on his desk. His clothes barely scratched the surface of the closet and Jason chuckled softly as he ruffled Damian's hair.
"Look, my room comes with a built in pup room for when you're stealing all my blankets." He was teasing, scent relaxed and content for probably the first time since he'd gotten back to the Manor and he grinned as he tossed the freshly emptied box in Dick's direction. "Head's up, big bird. I'm starving. Who'd be up for some shakshuka?"
no subject
He rolled his eyes at Jason's joke, but looked more amused than annoyed. "I do have my own room here, should you want to spend a night free of theft." Damian DID take blankets. He preferred to sleep like a burrito.
Dick looked between them, surprised Damian would even want to keep sleeping with his bearer. It made sense for most children, if they'd been torn apart this long. But Damian always strove to seem so ADULT ... he must have missed Jason like crazy for him to just curl up in a nest with him without caring what people thought. It made Dick sad to think they'd been torn apart.
He caught the box Jason tossed. Pulling it apart to break down and then grinning. "I'm game," he said - only a vague idea of what shakshuka was in his head, but that didn't matter. "Am I going to be turning red and gulping water?" Dick had a healthy appreciation for spice, but some of what Damian liked had him overheating. Not that it stopped him from trying it.
"It is mostly mild," Damian said. By his standards, anyway. "That would be acceptable," he decided. "Do you know of a place that does it well?"
no subject
He smirked softly at the idea of Dick trying to keep up with their spice levels, shaking his head as he raised his arms up over his head so he could give himself a full body stretch. The work hadn't been hard, but a lot of it was bending and sorting and pregnancy had made his back a little prone to over tightening. Even now, his body trained back into peak performance, his backstraps had their quirks.
Honestly, the hardest part about being confined to the Manor was going to be finding the motivation to keep his training routine. He'd found that even while nursing a voraciously hungry infant, without his workouts, he tended to go a little soft around his middle. It was common for omegas who'd had pups, but it was still annoying.
"In Gotham? There are a couple of places, but I'm not sure they deliver. Are you so tired of your baba's cooking already, habibi?" He lightly flicked Damian's ear, not a gesture meant to hurt but just to tease. It was less invasive than a hair tussle for the times when his son still needed to be presentable after his mothering. "Relax, Dickie. It's tomatoes, bell peppers, and eggs. Mostly. There are some spices, but I'll make sure you don't die."
no subject
"Don't make fun," he whined, playfully. "Circus food was mass produced for the whole troop usually, there wasn't a lot of heat in it."
Damian looked a little surprised, and then pleased. "I didn't know that you'd dare enter Alfred's domain. You cooking is acceptable." He hesitated and then offered. "I could assist you." Damian had been raised to think manual labor was beneath him (not Jason's doing), and never raised a finger in the kitchen despite Timothy's complaints. He just liked the idea of watching his father cook and handing him what he needed.
Dick did a doubletake and then mouthed "WOW" at Jason with zero subtlety.
no subject
"Well, prepare to have your horizons expanded, Dickie bird. Come on, habibi. Unlike your father and Dickie over there, I'm not banned from the kitchen." He smirked, ushering everyone out of his bedroom and closing the door behind him before heading for the stairs.
It was a little surreal navigating this house again, but he hadn't forgotten the way. He'd never actually gotten to cook in this kitchen with Alfred when he'd lived here before, but he was hoping that might change one day soon. For today, however, the room was empty, Alfred no doubt down in the Cave with Bruce.
He let his fingers trail lightly over the familiar countertops before he let himself smile.
"Alright, habibi. Go grab a couple chairs, hmm? One for Dick to sit in so he doesn't try to help and end up burning the Manor down, and the other you can stand on so you can help me chop up veggies."
no subject
Damian rolled his eyes but his small hand fisted at the bottom of his baba's hoodie as he was tugged in against his side.
Dick caught the mood and gave Jason a soft sort of smile over Damian's head.
Damian clearly wanted to protest that he didn't need a CHAIR ... but truthfully the counters were slightly too high. So he scowled, but went with it, dragging a chair over.
Dick pouted. "Hey, I haven't burned anything yet," he protested. But he sank down in his own chair obligingly, just kind of fascinated to watch the parent-child relationship at play.
no subject
"There is no shame in using your environment to achieve proper body mechanics, habibi. It's no different than taking out an opponent's knees to bring them down so you can deliver a knockout blow. You are young. Eventually you won't need the chair or to take out someone's knees, but for today you do. I did too, at your age. A little older, actually. Ask Dickie bird, I was about your size when I was Robin and I was three years older then you when I wore it."
A lesson, a reassurance, and a gentle check of Damian's ego all wrapped up with the amusing image of himself so small. He apparently wasn't half bad at this whole 'parenting' thing. It helped that Talia and Ra's (and Willis and Bruce) had shown him exactly what he didn't want to do as a parent.
He brought over the pre-washed peppers and tomatoes, nimbly handling the knife as he showed Damian how to de-seed and slice. "Here, put the sliced pieces into this bowl, the seeds into that one and I'll start prepping the pan."