It all came down to compartmentalization. It was the one skill that Jason had never been particularly good at as Robin. No matter how much Bruce drilled it into him, it just didn't come natural to him to divide his thoughts into simple, easy to digest sections. He couldn't put Robin in a box while he was at school just as he couldn't put school in a box when he was Robin.
Tim could cut the part of him that was half crazed and manipulated to hell and back and put it in a locked box in the back of a mental closet...but that wasn't a skill that Jason had. Especially because he'd lived it. He had those memories stained over his mind in big splashes of bright colors. He remembered that rage, still battled with it on bad days, but he also remembered that the Pit had never made him do anything.
Everything that he'd done, he'd done it on his own. He'd had shitty intel and the Pit had stripped him of nearly all filter between impulse and action...but he'd meant the things that he'd done. And then, years later, to find himself enjoying the rush of chasing after Tim and taking? Even when it was so willingly offered, there was just enough remnants there to make him hate himself just a little when he stopped to think about it.
Normally, he'd be able to rationalize the guilt away. Roll over to wrap Tim in his arms, pillow his head against the other man's sternum while clever fingers trailed in his hair to bring him back from that dark edge. The steady, heavy ba-bam of Tim's heartbeat under his ear was better than a metronome to ease him out of that primal headspace that the chase put him in and back into his own skin.
To be yanked back with pain and panic? He was spiraling. Hard. He hadn't been trying to intentionally start a fight, but between the flash of anger and the sudden protective wall between him and his prey had jump started the guilt into a rolling boil in his chest. Tim's jaw tightened in what he recognized as anger and Jason...flinched back. It was subtle, just a half step back from the other two, but it was there.
"Tim-" His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to stop himself from doing something stupid. "Fuck, just...please don't leave. Don't. Just...give me a minute, okay?"
Dick's words fed the guilt in his chest and he nodded, lips tight as he turned his head to look away from his brother and his boyfriend.
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Tim could cut the part of him that was half crazed and manipulated to hell and back and put it in a locked box in the back of a mental closet...but that wasn't a skill that Jason had. Especially because he'd lived it. He had those memories stained over his mind in big splashes of bright colors. He remembered that rage, still battled with it on bad days, but he also remembered that the Pit had never made him do anything.
Everything that he'd done, he'd done it on his own. He'd had shitty intel and the Pit had stripped him of nearly all filter between impulse and action...but he'd meant the things that he'd done. And then, years later, to find himself enjoying the rush of chasing after Tim and taking? Even when it was so willingly offered, there was just enough remnants there to make him hate himself just a little when he stopped to think about it.
Normally, he'd be able to rationalize the guilt away. Roll over to wrap Tim in his arms, pillow his head against the other man's sternum while clever fingers trailed in his hair to bring him back from that dark edge. The steady, heavy ba-bam of Tim's heartbeat under his ear was better than a metronome to ease him out of that primal headspace that the chase put him in and back into his own skin.
To be yanked back with pain and panic? He was spiraling. Hard. He hadn't been trying to intentionally start a fight, but between the flash of anger and the sudden protective wall between him and his prey had jump started the guilt into a rolling boil in his chest. Tim's jaw tightened in what he recognized as anger and Jason...flinched back. It was subtle, just a half step back from the other two, but it was there.
"Tim-" His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to stop himself from doing something stupid. "Fuck, just...please don't leave. Don't. Just...give me a minute, okay?"
Dick's words fed the guilt in his chest and he nodded, lips tight as he turned his head to look away from his brother and his boyfriend.