"You keep running away when I need you most,
Running away when I need you close
My heart is full, but yours is running out
I think I'm afraid of what comes next
Yeah, I'm afraid you've lost your head
Baby, you know that I loved you first
But now, you're in love with somebody else"
~ joan, "i loved you first"
Chapter 35: Rumors and Justifications
To say that Jason's sudden appearance was jarring would have been an understatement. Sure, it wasn't out-of-character for the younger man to do something off-putting and abrupt that sent those around him scrambling for stability, but Bruce certainly wished he'd been given a bit more of a heads-up that bittersweet day.
On one hand, he'd been pleasantly surprised to find one of his sons at the front door. After their last encounter, during which Jason had seemed like he wasn't eager to try and reconnect with his family, Bruce had been convinced that perhaps a few more months would pass until they crossed paths again. He'd never anticipated his words getting through to Jason (if that's what had prompted his decision to come by the manor) and settled on dwindling hope and lowered expectations.
Of course, on the other hand… he could see what the situation was doing to his youngest. One of the first things that had occurred to him, standing there and seeing Jason regard him with an expectant, almost innocent look, was the realization that Damian was still home — and with Jess. It had been very unfortunate and poor timing on everyone's part, but Bruce had, admittedly, breathed a sigh of relief at seeing that Damian wasn't launching himself at Jason upon first sight. That was a bit of an improvement, wasn't it?
Yet what was there that he could do to mitigate the tension and hostility between the two? He and Dick had already tried for the last few years to smooth things out… so perhaps Jason showing up was a first step, a sign. He might have been waving it off as "just seeing what everyone's up to," but Bruce couldn't help suspecting that the younger man — deep, deep down — truly wanted to connect with family again. Jason would most likely never admit it, even at gunpoint, so it was a sheer assumption that Bruce could only hope to be true.
So he took it as it was, telling his son he should visit more often despite Damian's protests and reservations. If the twenty-year-old wanted to gripe about his presence, Bruce would let him handle it the way he wanted to, leaving the manor and avoiding Jason as he saw fit. Enabling his behavior was likely the worst thing he could do though, so the older Wayne made a mental note to attempt a tête-à-tête.
Besides, there was a separate incident he wanted to discuss with his youngest.
"And I thought I was a handful."
Jason took up a seat nearby while Bruce bent over a few items laid across the lab bench. Jason had contacted him earlier, wanting to visit again; they were in the cave now, waiting for Alfred to call upon them for lunch. This was the fourth or fifth time the younger man had stopped by the manor in the last several weeks, and yet Bruce still hadn't asked the question that had been burning in his mind since that day he'd shown up unannounced at the door.
"He was only upset that Jess got hurt," he said distractedly as he examined the evidence that Jim Gordon had passed along the other night.
"Yeah, and he reacted in exactly the way any of us would have expected."
"Would you have reacted differently?"
"Maybe. I might've left him with more than a broken nose and shattered dignity."
I wouldn't doubt that.
Straightening up, Bruce glanced over at him. "Jason…" The younger man met his eyes with raised brows. "Why did you really come back?"
His blue-green eyes were cool as he laid back in the chair. "Thought we already discussed this."
Deciding to be blunt, he responded, "You gave me an answer you thought I wanted to hear."
At his son's silence that followed for a long minute, Bruce gave a sigh and turned his full attention to him. He considered his words, wondering how best to express his thoughts about a sensitive subject, then said, "It's great that you want to visit after all your travels. But we both know there's an elephant in the room that you've been pretending doesn't exist." He caught the flickering in Jason's eyes. "And it's not one you can simply ignore if you really do want to reconnect with family."
Now, he just had to wait and see what kind of response he would get.
Jason tore his gaze away, opting to stare at the floor by his feet. In a stiff voice, he replied, "I didn't realize getting him to finally forgive me and look me in the eye was a requirement for being a part of the family again."
'Him' clearly meant Damian.
"'Again'?" Bruce echoed with a raised brow. "Jason, we may not all be under the same roof as before, but everyone, including you, has been out there, living their own lives. You were never 'removed' or exiled simply because you went off-grid—"
"Oh, but wasn't I?" His bright eyes flashed as he looked back up at the older man and straightened up tensely in the chair. "Maybe not for going AWOL, but for…"
He pressed his lips together, as if to prevent himself from finishing the sentence, then shook his head. "You know what for," Jason muttered as he slouched again.
Of course he felt exiled. Damian had always been the sort of person, even as a child, who made his needs, desires, and antipathies known — often without anyone prompting him to do so. The young man, about 17-years-old at the time, had made it clear to his family that Jason had failed him and was ultimately blacklisted from being in his life again. And considering Damian's nature and personality, it'd almost been impossible to get him to see reason.
There was a short, bitter laugh as Jason stared across the room; Bruce could tell his mind was elsewhere, perhaps in memories he'd attempted to bury deeply. "I lowered my expectations a long time ago, Bruce. You probably should, too."
"That might be the wisest thing you've ever said."
The two men turned to see Damian standing in the entryway with crossed arms and an unreadable expression on his face. He was dressed in a sweater and jacket as if he were just about to head out, dark locks combed back neatly.
Jason said nothing as Bruce nodded towards him. "Going out?"
"I'll be back in time for dinner," the younger Wayne responded promptly. "Alfred said you wanted to see me."
"How is she?"
The briefest pause greeted the three of them until Damian said, "She gets out of bed if that's what you mean."
Well, any news must be good news.
"It's a good thing we pay that PR firm as much money as we do," Bruce mused, examining his youngest. "Teenagers and their obsession to record anything and everything can be dangerous — damaging — nowadays."
Perhaps he should have waited to mention this when Jason wasn't around, yet he felt compelled to bring it up anyway. He barely reacted to the slight narrowing of Damian's gaze before taking a moment to examine the evidence on the table. Despite him merely alluding to what he was really saying, he knew Damian would understand.
"It should come as no surprise, Father, that I couldn't care less about damage control or what nonsense some idiots on the internet have to say about me." His tone was cold and sharp… but Bruce only sighed and looked up at him. "I did what was necessary."
Standing from where he sat at the table, he leveled a gaze with his son. "I never said your confrontation was unnecessary."
Green eyes shifted from annoyance to comprehension, and Damian gave a slight nod.
While Bruce did have Wayne Enterprises' PR team handling the wildfire that was the multi-billionaire's youngest son sinking a fist into a teenager's face at an illegal house party, said multi-billionaire was more worried about the aforementioned son's well being than he was about what it might do to his (or their) reputation. As Jason had said earlier, Damian's reaction had been nothing short of characteristic for him, and Bruce could only be grateful it hadn't been worse than a mere broken nose.
If anything, he agreed that the dispute had been unavoidable.
Damian was turning on his heel, about to leave, when Jason finally spoke from where he still sat. "Wait, people saw what you did?"
The young man paused, brows wrinkling slightly at his older brother's question. "Yes. It was a public setting, a party that Kade had been hosting at his own home."
"You humiliated the kid at his own gig," Jason said slowly as if saying the words aloud would help him… And then a slight, impish smirk crossed his face while he added, "Nice going, demon spawn."
He didn't mean to, but Bruce found himself holding his breath. It seemed to be an innocent, lighthearted comment on Jason's part, an approval of the young man's method in confronting Kade Noor, but even such small things — as well as the nickname — could elicit the snappy, foul-mouthed side of Damian that was easy to vex.
To the older Wayne's pleasant surprise (and relief), Damian only nodded, pausing for a second, before finally walking off. He could feel Jason looking at him across the room, and while he didn't particularly know why, Bruce had a feeling they were sharing the same observation: it had happened in the shortest instance, a quick twitch of a face muscle near the corner of Damian's mouth.
As if he had almost smiled.
In all her years of attending school and growing up as a teen, Jess had never quite fit the stereotypical roles she was familiar with. She'd never been popular or well-known, considered some type of outcast, or given yearbook superlatives that would make her cringe twenty years later. Everything about her and her life had always been normal, simple, uncomplicated most times and downright boring at others. Jessica Fairchild had just been the girl who sat at the back of a classroom, played hockey and loved figure skating, hated white chocolate, and wasn't very good at math or science. Even with her meta-human abilities, she had been as average as average could be.
Recent events had changed all of that.
From ordinary teenager to the girl who'd lost both her parents and ran away, Jessica was now a recovering juvenile delinquent, attempting to atone for her sins — and now, she was the talk of the entire student body at Gotham Academy, a particular subject of interest after what had happened with Kade. Because they were broken up, right? Neither of them had spoken to each other or reached out, and Jess wasn't entirely sure she wanted to. How could they recover after something like that? All she could do was keep her head down, turning the other way whenever she saw him in her path, avoiding eye contact with his friends. Too many sets of eyes followed her everywhere she went, hushed whispers cut off when they noticed her get too close. No amount of mental and emotional preparation after her fight with him had readied her for how scrutinized and judged she felt during the following school days. She might as well have been a lab rat in a maze, watched and studied by a group of scientists making hypotheses and coming to their own conclusions.
And people coming up with assumptions had to be the worst of it all. Sure, pretty much everyone had witnessed the altercation between Damian and Kade and heard their hostile exchange; they knew of the horrible things he'd said to her, how furious her friend had been and how willing he'd been to confront the blond… But beyond that, her peers also had the audacity to dream up reasons outside of her unhealthy relationship with him that might've contributed to the friction between the two young men.
She'd seen the recorded video, of course. Misty had shown it to her, and if anything was circulating faster than gossip about their supposed love triangle, it was that footage. Jess hadn't found the heart to discuss it yet with Damian, mostly because she was having a difficult time simply trying to figure out how she felt about it. Part of her was undoubtedly still upset that he had gone off to accost Kade rather than show up for her when she needed him, but another couldn't help experiencing satisfaction at watching the blond eat her best friend's knuckles. She could only imagine that he was embarrassed besides angry, especially since people were taking note of how Damian had seemed to overpower him so easily.
So when a girl with curly, black hair and glasses approached Jess before her first class of the morning as she walked through the courtyard, her immediate response was apprehension and worry — was she going to talk about something related to schoolwork? She recognized her from one of Kade's parties during the summer and they shared physics class, but Jess couldn't recall that she was really a friend of either Kade or Misty. And then Jess realized the girl — Cora was her name — was smiling kindly at her, which did little to calm her uneasy nerves.
"Hey, Jess."
"Uh, hi... How're you?" Jess returned tentatively, coming to a stop in her tracks to face her.
"I'm good, thanks. Hey, I have a question."
Wariness immediately took over at her abruptness, making Jess look the girl up and down before saying, "Oh, sure. What's up?"
Cora glanced around before stepping closer and hooking her thumbs through her backpack straps. In a low voice, she asked, "Is it true?"
"Is… what true?"
She met Jess's confused gaze, raising her thin brows. "Well, you're with Kade, right? I mean, you were, sorry."
Realizing what she was asking, Jess felt any hint of assurance and level-headedness slip away, replaced by mental walls that were quickly rising. "Oh, yeah, but I'd rather not talk—"
"—but still friends with Damian Wayne?"
That stopped her.
"Yes…? Why are you asking?" she prompted, impatience eating at her nerves.
The other girl reached up to readjust her glasses before clearing her throat. "Sorry, I… I just had to find out for myself, I guess."
"I… okay, well, that's honestly none of your business." She was moving to step around her when Cora blocked her, making Jess's brows knit together in confusion and annoyance.
Brown eyes widened before a sheepish look crossed Cora's features. "Well, yeah, but you know people are talking, right?" At Jess's silent and impatient stare, she added, "People are saying that Kade and Damian… you know… shared you."
The words didn't seem to register for a long, long moment, but then they did — and Jess's heart began beating painfully in her chest, the blood pounded in her ears, her palms were suddenly sweaty. She was aware of Cora's mouth moving, but her vision seemed to tunnel with darkness briefly as she forgot where she was and why she was there. All she could comprehend was this horrendous idea of Kade and Damian "sharing" her? Like it was some kind of—
"Jess?"
"Who told you that?" she managed to ask breathlessly. "Who… who said that?"
Taken aback, Cora stammered, "Um, I heard Georgia and some other guy talking about it. I-I couldn't help overhearing."
The panic was setting in. She could feel it forcing its way past her defenses as she struggled to grasp this concept that the other teen seemed to think held any truth.
"I'm guessing it's not true—?"
"It's not. It's—it's completely, one-hundred-percent false," Jess tried to urge as she took a step away, in a hurry to go… well, anywhere. "It's not true. It's not."
She didn't give Cora a chance to respond; Jess took off, subconsciously making her way to home room but with anxiety clawing at her thoughts. How did this happen? How many people actually thought this was even remotely true? Maybe it was the alarm and dismay she was swimming in, but the passing stares and whispers she was getting felt amplified. Did they all believe this? That she'd basically had two boyfriends and…?
The mere thought was sickening. She had to pause in a hallway, leaning her shoulder against the wall and closing her eyes. Her heart was still pounding rapidly, hands clammy and cold.
Downey Lane, Twelfth Street, Sunview Drive. Downey Lane, Twelfth Street, Sunview Drive. Downey Lane, Twelfth Street, Sunview Drive.
A minute later, her breathing was a bit more even, slower… but the dismay still lingered at the brink of her consciousness. So what now, Jess? She would find Georgia and figure out where she'd gotten the rumor from. They didn't share classes, unfortunately, but she knew where she usually saw the girl during lunch.
Would she be able to wait that long? Once again, Jess could feel the panic returning, so she spent another moment leaning against that wall and catching her breath before heading to class.
And it felt like eternity. The entire morning, the teen couldn't help but bounce her knee, twist her ring, look around to see if anyone was glancing at her in some particular way. Were they thinking what she dreaded? If so, were they judging her? Admiring her? (Which would be really weird.) How many people had heard this claim?
Man, the impatience just ate away at her. It took everything in her power to not be the first one out the door once their lunch period began. Her phone was buzzing in her pocket as she made a beeline for the other end of campus, though she knew it was probably Misty wanting to find out where she was or where they'd meet or Kade—
Oh, no.
Having forgotten that he left class right down the hall from her, she recognized his back as he walked off and raised a hand at someone in the distance. His eyes, narrowed in anger, popped into her head while Jess actively went the opposite direction and searched the area for a familiar brunette. She could only imagine how upset he'd be if he'd heard the same thing.
Before she could start panicking about that, too, she spotted the girl she'd been looking for, seeing her laughing with a group of friends. It would be much more ideal to get her alone and not intervene — the idea of multiple people seeing her ask Georgia to speak privately made her stomach churn. Jess slowly approached the group, several yards in distance, deciding she'd wait until the girl stepped away. Her hands were clammy again. She was reciting in her what she'd say when the mention of her name caught her attention.
"Yeah, I've been hearing that, too. Isn't that wild?"
Glancing around, she saw two teens she didn't recognize behind her as they sat on a nearby bench. Both of their backs were towards her, but she moved a little closer, careful to not let herself be easily recognized if they happened to turn around. She stepped behind a pillar that separated her and them, straining her ears.
"Wait, so she was pretty much dating them both or what?" the guy seemed to ask.
The girl responded, "I dunno. I just heard that she's been friends with Damian for a while, but she didn't start dating Kade till the beginning of the semester. But like, I've heard that was why the two guys never got along — she was playing them both."
"At the same time on purpose? Or she was just cheating on Kade?"
"No, I mean, literally at the same time. Threesome and all?"
"Huh… well I heard she was just seeing Damian on the side and Kade didn't even know."
"Ha, if that's the case, he sure knows now then."
"Yeah, but whichever is the truth, apparently she just couldn't pick one," he laughed.
"Guess not. I mean, I really can't blame her. They're both hot."
"How? That Wayne guy never smiled."
"Exactly. Some of us find that attractive."
There was a scoff followed by "Women."
"Hey, shut the hell up. You're just mad 'cause you haven't had a girlfriend yet…"
A wave of uneasiness and nausea crashed over her and a ringing sound filled her ears, the teens' voices fading away. Struggling to breathe evenly, Jess felt her back hit the pillar, aware of her fellow peers still bustling back and forth, completely oblivious to her. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.
"Don't listen to them," Misty told her later as they huddled together at the end of an empty hallway. "It's just typical, stupid high school gossip. They have nothing better to do."
Easier said than done. Despite how much her friend insisted that knowing the truth and dismissing all other false narratives was most important, Jess couldn't ignore the fact that those untrue rumors were floating around. It made her beyond uncomfortable to see the criticism and curiosity in other teens' eyes, to know that their perceptions of her were warped by ugly assumptions. It certainly didn't matter that some of them might even approve of the things she supposedly did with Kade and Damian — the bottom line was that it was completely, undoubtedly false.
Other than navigating her newfound popularity that she'd never asked for, Jess spent her time distracting herself. She had no desire to dwell on the very big, very obvious mistake — though, admittedly, it hadn't been "obvious" to her until now, after things had blown up in her face — that she'd made with Kade. If she wasn't at school, she was with Damian or Misty, going to hockey practice, spending time in the rink to rehearse old routines she'd learned. Of course, she still had a few nights where she unleashed the tears she held back all day, tears that stemmed from anger and confusion. If it wasn't enough that endless questions ran through her head about what she could've done better and why he'd been so awful, the teen had to fight the desire to try and make things work again. A small part of her still wanted to reach out and make amends, to figure out how to have a healthier, better relationship… and then a voice would tell her she was being naive and that it was simply a lost cause.
After staring holes into the painting she'd hung up on her wall from Damian, something that brought her a little bit of peace, she found herself needing fresh air. Jess wasn't all there in the present as she got up and set off on foot from her dorm, not caring that the evening was beginning with light showers. The night chill poked at her through her hoodie and jacket; she shoved her hands into the pockets and walked… and walked. Paying attention just barely enough to not end up in the middle of the street and follow corners, the teen distanced herself from the academy campus. She let both her mind and feet wander, aware of how the warm wetness built over time in her eyes and pain rose in her chest. Maybe there was some self-pity under her skin, too, a piece of her that wondered how she could've been so stupid, naive. Crying over a boy… how much more cliche and ridiculous could she get?
It didn't take long for him to show — or maybe it did, considering she didn't know what time was anymore — but she didn't notice until she felt his hand on her shoulder as her eyes stared unseeingly and blurry at the wet pavement beneath her feet. She heard him say her name, soft and concerned, though Jess couldn't find herself to respond. All she could continue to do was glare angrily at the ground, not caring at all that she was cold, wet, and miserable. Absolutely miserable.
Vaguely, she was aware of him telling her something that her muddy brain didn't exactly comprehend and reaching out towards her. Wiping at the tears that had blended into the raindrops on her face, Jess finally acknowledged Damian's presence as she took his warm hand and let him help her up from the sidewalk. Although she wasn't meeting his eyes as he guided her towards his car, she could feel that heavy, green gaze on her; he was most definitely seeing a mess, a stupid, teenage girl with running mascara and wet hair, eyes red from crying so much. Jess couldn't bring herself to look at him or speak the entire drive to wherever it was he was taking her. In fact, she didn't care where they went as long as it was far away from there. If he was by her side, she would go anywhere.
Anywhere but here.
It wasn't until they'd arrived at the manor that the pain and confusion she'd buried started rising again, and it took what little strength she had left to keep them at bay as they made their way up to his room. The hot tears were starting to escape as Damian went to retrieve dry clothes for her. Everything was a blur: changing into the long-sleeved sweater and pajama shorts that must've once belonged to Stephanie or Cass, avoiding looking at her horrendous appearance in the bathroom mirror, and biting back more sobs the entire time. By the time she'd climbed under the sheets next to him, her vision was blurry once more and the hurt was filling her entire being.
Hands pressed to her eyes as she buried her face into his chest, Jess cried out what was left in her that she hadn't managed to do over the previous days. The warmth from his arms and body, his presence in general, seemed to be the only things holding her together as she finally let herself fall apart and feel all the nasty, negative emotions tearing at her insides.
When the sobs subsided eventually and she was left with hiccups and sniffles, the teen rolled onto her back and wiped at her face, trying to take even breaths. Jess ignored the soreness behind her eyes and finally turned her head to meet those emerald greens that were watching her with something unreadable in them, but the slight wrinkles between his brows gave her an idea. That look reminded her how pathetic she probably looked and of the reason why she was even in such a broken state.
But at the same time, it brought her comfort, the way Damian was looking at her, silently and patiently. It was gentle and warm… just like his arms when he'd been holding her or his hand when he'd pulled her to her feet. That shade of green seemed to burn through the protective barrier she'd been desperately scrambling to put up around herself after everything that had happened. Unlike many things that had managed to do it before, how he looked at her slowed her natural defenses, inching past Jess's walls and claiming a place within instead of outside them.
She wanted to break eye contact but keep it at the same time.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she turned her head to look back up at the ceiling dimly lit by the lamp on his bedside table. Waves of the urge to cry washed over her every now and then, but she managed to overcome them as she continued taking slow, deep breaths. And then she felt him touch her knuckles, making her realize she'd been gripping the comforter. As if it was natural, Jess's hand relaxed underneath his until — completely without a thought — she turned her palm upwards and weaved her fingers through his. The gesture sent a peculiar feeling through her arm and the rest of her body, one that almost numbed the ache her entire being was suffering from.
"Jessica."
Her name, spoken quietly in the still air, somehow made her heart skip. Looking over, she saw that his gaze was running over her face and those wrinkles between his brows were nearly gone.
"He never deserved you."
On another day, maybe the sentiment would have annoyed her because she'd wanted him to be accepting of her relationship with Kade. Maybe she would have glared and snapped at him about his opinion that she'd grown tired of hearing.
But at that moment, his words had her eyes stinging again though the tears didn't return. Instead, she realized that this was something other than his opinion of the guy who was now her ex; he was telling her that she was worth more than what Kade had made her feel, that he didn't deserve who she was or what she could give.
So who did?
Her eyes, seemingly on their own, traveled from the dark, green irises to his nose and down to his lips, stirring something deep within her chest. How did I ever get lucky enough to have someone like you care about me? The question jolted her, making Jess's hand twitch within his as she struggled to understand the odd feeling starting to creep under her skin. Damian had always cared for her, always been by her side even when sometimes it'd felt like the opposite. He'd let her in when she'd nudged her way past his walls, never abandoned her when she'd done her best to do the same or when her mistakes had almost torn them apart. Despite how flawed she was and how often she tripped over her own feet, he'd been there without question, even when she'd fought against it, even doubted it. He was undeniably one of the most loyal people, the best friend, she'd ever met… and Jess couldn't imagine her life without him.
"I've heard that was why the two guys never got along — she was playing them both."
Releasing Damian's hand and moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, she could feel him still watching her. But she kept her gaze on the expensive comforter, trying to choose her words carefully.
"You didn't have to do what you did, you know." Her voice was soft and wobbly, like a mere leaf trembling in the wind.
There was a pause, and then he was sitting up, too. "I wanted to."
Something compelled her to finally meet his eyes again as she absentmindedly spun the ring on her finger. "Are you glad you were right about him?"
It was only a little concerning, the time it took for him to consider her words as he looked at her. But then Damian was shaking his head, brows wrinkled in worry.
"Of course not."
"Why is that?" she asked after attempting to swallow past the growing lump in her throat.
Jess couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. It had been obvious that her friend didn't want her with Kade for several reasons, and now that had come true. Why wouldn't he be relieved that they were no longer together?
"Because I would rather be wrong than see you like this."
The tears came without warning. She was quick to cover her wet face with her hands, internally scolding herself for still being so vulnerable, breakable. But a strong arm was gently wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest again, and Jess gave into it. She surrendered wholeheartedly, knowing there was no reason for her to try and pretend she had any tenacity left.
The familiar, warming feeling — whether from his arms, his presence, maybe something entirely different — spread over her, and she found herself holding onto it almost desperately because it was the only thing easing the pain and misery her heart was drowning in.
That same night, Damian insisted that she stay over. She didn't have the strength to disagree — and why would she? After being alone for several days and half-assed attempts to distract herself, Jess just didn't want to be in her dorm, struggling to fall asleep. She'd rather do it under a roof where she was comfortable, knowing a friend was nearby.
And so she stayed.
All she had to do was scroll through her phone for some time until she grew sleepy enough to not care about heartbreak and teenage boys. Yeah, she could do that, right? So Jess spent over an hour watching random videos and laughing silently at stupid memes, waiting for her eyelids to feel heavy as she laid in the guest room.
That confidence didn't last very long. Soon, there was nothing appealing on social media anymore, so she put her phone back on the bedside table and hoped for sleep to come. Laying there in the dark, Jess couldn't help reliving the past few weeks' worst memories, the strong fingers at her jaw, the cold glare, the painful words thrown at her. Tears escaping from her eyes, she shifted around as best as she could, keeping her makeshift sheet of protection and curling up into a ball.
The anxious, troublesome thoughts continued to invade her mind; there was no way she'd be able to fall asleep within a reasonable frame of time if she kept allowing her mind run the way it was. Damian is literally just down the hall. She realized she didn't want to be alone with her unpleasant thoughts and feelings… The teen couldn't help laughing a little at the desire that flitted through her mind — she felt like she was seven years old again, afraid of the dark and wanting to go to her parents' room. Most of the time, she did end up making it out of bed and sprinting across the dark house to sleep on their floor or crawl into the small space between them.
But she couldn't do that now, no. Jess was a legal adult, more than old enough to brave a little darkness. Hell, she'd walked around Gotham at night more than a handful of times already with hardly any fear of her surroundings and the real threats that were out there. A broken heart and a pile of regret shouldn't have been so debilitating.
A quick glance at her phone told her it was already nearly two in the morning. With a sigh, she contemplated her options… and found herself slipping out of the bed. Her eyes, sore from crying, eventually adjusted, allowing her to find the door handle and step out into the quiet hallway. Damian's door wasn't closed for once; she could barely see anything past it being propped halfway open, but that didn't stop her from poking her head in.
The moonlight flowing in from between the window curtains illuminated part of the still figure beneath the sheets. It looked like he was on his side, facing the doorway. But he didn't move nor did he say anything when she called his name quietly, once and then twice. Biting the inside of her cheek in hesitation, Jess crept further into the room until she reached his side. She bent down to her knees and reached out to him, trying to wake him again.
"Dam—"
Something stopped her hand so quickly that even her surprise was delayed. Her brain was still in the middle of comprehending what was touching her when the lamp flickered on, revealing a pair of alert, green eyes. Jess's thought process went through the details slowly: his fingers were closed around her wrist, and he was propped up on his other arm, dark hair in disarray. Like her, Damian was squinting a little at the sudden light, blinking at her in confusion with wrinkled brows.
"Jessica, what are you doing?"
Her gaze snapped to meet his eyes at his voice. Though it was soft and thick with sleep, it still held that characteristic, stern tone of his. (Even half-asleep, Damian Wayne never failed to be so Damian.)
"What are you doing?" he asked again.
"Uh…"
She didn't know why it was proving difficult to hold eye contact. Was it because it felt like the green irises were seeing right through her?
"I... I, um..." Her throat was tight all of a sudden, and her eyes were stinging.
"Is something wrong?"
A tear slipped, and she used her fingers to brush it away, suddenly embarrassed. Heat was flushing her cheeks as she stammered, "S-sorry, I just... I d-don't want to be alone."
Something shifted in his gaze and the wrinkles between his brows softened, but he didn't speak. In fact, he seemed to contemplate for a moment so long that she was almost about to apologize. Maybe I should leave him—
Damian released her wrist then and began shifting away from her. His eyes watched her patiently when he was positioned at the other side of the bed. Not giving it a second thought, she got up from the floor, eyes still welling with tears, and climbed under the cover beside him. Her hand found the lamp to turn it off, flooding them in darkness. She spent a few moments getting comfortable, noting how much nicer the mattress felt compared to the one she was used to in the guest room. And considering this was where he'd been laying, the sheets were warm, immediately easing her nerves.
"Good night, Dami," she said quietly through the sniffles.
"Good night."
It sounded like he was facing her, making her unable to keep from searching the blackness for a familiar outline. A small part of her also suspected it was more than just the warmth of this spot in his bed. She already felt better with his presence so near, knowing he was there, even if they were doing nothing but lying quietly and on the edge of sleep. Though this was the first time they'd done this, there wasn't anything weird or strange about it… not to her at least. For Jess, it was hardly any different from sitting against the pillows on top of the thick comforter like they did often. She knew coming here and looking for his company had been a good idea because it was turning out exactly as she'd hoped when the thought had crossed her mind in the guest room: her eyelids were growing heavy with tiredness as she sighed, not a trace of that burdensome sorrow and self-pity around.
She knew because as she laid there, sleep slithering into the corners of her mind, she wasn't crying anymore.
By Thanksgiving, Jess seemed to show signs of resuming normalcy. She still appeared distracted at times and wasn't as eager to participate in their usual activities they did together, yet Damian could tell her spirit was improving. Particularly after staying over for several days, he saw that she was getting better sleep, focusing more on her schoolwork, and never minded his company nor his family's. His best guess was that she welcomed the distractions outside of school, hockey practice, and being with Misty.
Because otherwise, she would be alone and with her thoughts, ones that most likely were unpleasant and bitter.
Still, his friend was uncharacteristically quieter than usual. He'd spent his time biting his tongue, refraining from pushing her to talk about what had happened and to let him in. If there was anything he could be sure of at the very least, it was that she had no desire to discuss that night quite yet; what he would do for her in the meantime was simply be there, offer her company, distraction, a place to stay. They would continue spending time together when she felt up to it, as if there was nothing wrong.
Except Damian could only do it for so long. After a pleasant dinner with the family and meeting with his father briefly in the cave, he went to find the brunette. She was in the guest room, standing at the window with her back towards him.
He said her name, prompting her to look back and give him the smallest of smiles. After moving to stand beside her, he looked over and took in the thoughtful, intense way with which she gazed past the glass. It was dark and quite cold already, considering winter was quickly approaching.
"You know what has stuck with me most?" she suddenly asked.
Her voice was soft, disrupting the still quiet that had accompanied them. Damian waited and watched as she maintained her distracted gaze out the window.
"When he said all those things to me… When he said nobody would w-want me, that if it wasn't f-for—"
She paused to swallow and catch her unsteady breath before turning to him. Slowly, one hand reached to take his elbow while the other grasped his jaw, and her touch had him knitting his brows with piqued interest. He almost didn't notice that she was trembling slightly despite her gentleness.
"I felt it," Jess whispered as she looked up at him. "I felt my power, b-but I c-couldn't do anything. I couldn't move or speak. I just… froze."
It might have been shame or fear in her glistening eyes, perhaps both. Damian could almost see the memory she was reliving as she held him in place, doing her best to remain composed. Understanding then washed over him in a brutal wave, first as realization and then bitterness.
He'd touched her like this. His hands had been on her in this way, keeping her in his grip, exerting dominance and control that had rendered her speechless — even frightened to the point that her metahuman ability had emerged in defense.
Anger, slow and burning, built in his limbs, tightening his jaw that was still between her fingers. It took a considerable amount of discipline to not stop her when she released him, hands falling to her sides.
"I was so... stunned. He was always sort of handsy with me — in a good way — but… It didn't make sense."
Her eyes fell to the floor. "I guess I should've seen it coming," she added, her words nearly inaudible.
He wanted to ask if that had been the first time Kade had treated her in that way, but something else crossed his mind. Crossing his arms, Damian asked, "What do you mean?" She still wasn't looking at him, gaze turned beyond the window again. "Jessica. What does that mean?"
Her sharp exhale punctuated the air between them. "That wasn't the first time he's—he's talked to me like that before," Jess admitted softly.
The pounding of his heart intensified at this news. She was hesitating while glancing at him now, quickly averting her gaze at the look on his face. The former assassin could only assume his expression was showing only a fraction of the stirring emotions within him. This has happened before, a voice affirmed at the back of his mind.
Echoes of Kade's taunting words hit him, prodding at the frustration Damian was attempting to control.
"What else did he say to you?" He didn't mean to, but his tone was sharp, nearly demanding.
"It doesn't matter, Damian," she tried with a shake of her head.
"I want to know what other harmful things he has said to you."
Her hazel eyes examined him, a hint of misery and dejection in them. After a long pause, Jess finally explained, "We got into an argument a few days before tryouts. He wanted to get a supply of stardust instead of being there like he'd—like I asked him to.
"I always noticed he seemed to prioritize it over our relationship. He refused to consider that he might need help, you know, like therapy or something. Rehab even. When I suggested it, he pointed out that I'm not much better than him and that I'm…"
She was growing emotional again as Damian waited as patiently as he could for her to continue.
Wiping at the wetness at the corner of her eye, she finished, "He said I'm just as fucked up as he is, maybe more. And he knows I still feel horrible for the things I did after running away, how… how after all this time, I still don't believe I d-deserve to b-be—"
A sob interrupted her, making Jess press the heels of her hands to her eyes. Ache shot through him beneath the irritation, yet it wasn't enough to do away with the animosity he was feeling towards the blond once again. It was undoubtedly cruel, what he'd had the audacity to say to her.
If only Damian had been there.
"And you failed to tell me?"
Jess met his gaze with shining eyes. "What would I have told you, Dami?"
He nearly balked. "That he was treating you like—"
"I thought it was okay," she cut in, voice soft yet persistent. "I thought that was how things were supposed to be, especially when he… when he was so willing to make up for it."
"And now?"
She paused, appearing to search his face. "And now I know I was just naive and stupid the whole time," she said softly.
Something was tugging at his heart as he watched her tuck hair behind her ear and face the window once more. His friend had been convinced her relationship with the blond was the way it was meant to be, blind to his mistreatment.
"It always feels like the world is against me," Jess seemed to mutter to herself, "like it still wants to punish me for everything I've done."
"Or perhaps you simply fell for the wrong person."
He hadn't been consciously planning to say such a thing. Attempting to regain himself, Damian watched her turn to him — was she going to be upset? Confused?
Yet she only appeared thoughtful as she slowly breathed in and out — as if she were coming to terms with the fact that she had made a mistake. "Yeah… Maybe I'm simply just an idiot."
Perhaps he should have disagreed with her, but he knew that it would have been a lie. He did think she'd been a bit of a fool, getting mixed up with Kade and in other disastrous circumstances that had occurred this year, yet she had to know it as well. As short-sighted and asinine as Jess could be, at the very least she learned her lesson afterwards.
But will she learn after this immense lapse in judgment this time around?
"I just wish… I was hoping I'd get through to him and he'd listen to me."
"People like him don't change unless they want to."
"Sure, but…" Jess shook her head and crossed her arms. "I might've been the only person who had a chance. His parents are rarely ever around, his brother is out-of-state, his friends… They don't see anything wrong with stardust and just enable him."
Irritation stung him as he glared down at her. "Jessica, why are you rationalizing what he did to you? Stardust hardly excuses his behavior and neither do his other, interpersonal issues."
"I'm just saying that he's had a lot happen in his life—"
"Then which part of his life justifies it?"
Her mouth was half-open as her wide eyes stared at him. Clearly, his harsh question had put her off, just as he'd expected. Only a little satisfied, Damian went on, keeping his voice carefully even.
"Do absent parents justify him saying nobody will want you? Does a distant brother justify putting his hands on you in blatant disrespect? Are simpleton friends and a reprehensible addiction to a street drug the right reasons to say he only kept you around because you…"
He couldn't even finish the thought. Not only was it too maddening to think about and painful to say aloud, but he saw the tears welling in her eyes, too. Even if the point was being driven home, his words were bringing up memories and feelings that he didn't want to force her to relive.
Forcing himself to take a steady breath, Damian watched as she tore her gaze away, chin trembling.
"Have you and Misty talked about me behind my back?" she suddenly asked in a shaky voice.
"No. Why?"
She appeared hesitant as if she didn't want to answer, still not looking at him. "She said pretty much the same thing to me the other day… about how I was trying to see something, believe in something that wasn't really there."
Well, thankfully it wasn't only him trying to talk some sense into Jess.
"What do you think then, if both of your friends express the same sentiment without having spoken to one another about it before?"
Jess dabbed at her eyes before exhaling sharply and turning to him. Her hazel irises were swimming in tears despite the smile she attempted to give. "I think… I want to stop talking about another big mistake I made."
Before he could say anything, she made her way to the bed and sat on the edge. He followed her, sitting beside her and seeing that his friend might've desperately needed a distraction. As much as he wanted to pursue the subject and make sure she understood that her relationship with the blond was nothing that she deserved… Damian knew that doing so was approaching dangerous territory.
"I spoke with Father after dinner. He informed me that Tim's commencement takes place two weeks from now, and he has made plans for us to visit for several days. I told him my presence is unnecessary when the rest of our family will be here for Christmas, so—"
"You're not going?"
She was looking over to him, brows furrowed in confusion.
"No, I'm not because no one would be here otherwise," Damian told her in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she should've known the answer. "Alfred, my father, and Selina are going."
"... And?"
Hazel eyes flickered between his, oblivious to what should have been evident to her. But then understanding fell over her face, and Jess shook her head. "Wait, you want to stay because I'm here?"
"Of course."
"Damian." She laughed lightly, tilting her head as she gazed up at him. The tears were no longer in her eyes though they were still slightly rimmed with redness. "I wasn't going to stay for that long. I was gonna go back to sleeping in my dorm this weekend."
He wanted to ask, yet he could already see that she would argue with him. In spite of how much he might insist and even demand that she stay as long as she needed, the young man would've been naive to think she wouldn't blink an eye at his assumption. She would likely mention not wanting to be a burden, spending so much time at the manor, and he would deny that she was even close to a bother.
"I'm fine, Dami," she'd say, explaining that it was wholly unnecessary for him to skip his brother's graduation just to stay home for her.
Yet it was in Damian's nature to disagree and press on. Even as she regarded him with gentle eyes, he read the leftover sadness in them, the lingering suffering that Kade had caused her.
"I know you're going to insist that I accompany my family out of town," he began sternly, "but I assure you that my being there is redundant; no one will miss me. It won't matter since I'll be seeing him nearly a week later."
Jess rolled her eyes. "Damian, it might be 'redundant' to you, but that won't be the case for your family, for Tim. He's graduating from college. That's a big deal."
She reached out then, clasping his hand and sending warmth under his skin. "You should be there. I'm sure it'll mean a lot to him."
"I've told you about him, haven't I?"
"Yes, you have. But just because you've butted heads since you were younger doesn't mean he won't care if you bail."
"I would say 'butting heads' is a bit of an understatement."
"Whatever. My point still stands."
"Jessica. You and I can have the manor to ourselves for three days—"
"As much as I love it here and the thought of a three-day sleepover without adults, I'm not going to be the reason you miss out." The firmness in her tone matched her eyes, prompting Damian to pause in his persuasion. "I get that you want to be around for me, but I don't need you to babysit me, okay?"
At that, his gaze narrowed. "I never said you required babysitting."
She raised a brow before answering, "You didn't have to."
He forced himself to take a moment again, turning her words over in his mind as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. She truly thought he believed she needed babysitting? Well, perhaps at another time, Damian would nearly agree, say, if she were wandering around at night while inebriated or something like it.
"Babysitting" wasn't the correct term though. Jess only needed looking after, to be provided comfort and companionship. As much as he hoped she would make better choices in young men (and overall), he knew she wasn't hopeless and incapable of righting her wrongs. She'd looked for love in the wrong place, in the horribly wrong person, and it seemed that she already knew that. It didn't mean she wasn't allowed to hurt and recover as she should.
His friend didn't require a babysitter — she needed someone to simply care for her.
In a way that Kade never did and never could.
After taking a deep breath, Damian met her gaze. "I don't wish to babysit you, Jessica. I want..."
Something seemed to shape in his mouth, wanting to form words that he hadn't been planning on saying. Still, he remained composed and went on.
"... to be around for you."
Jess appeared to be searching his eyes, and he vaguely wondered if she saw anything of interest. "You know, it shouldn't take Thanksgiving for me to say this, but… I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me. From becoming my friend to the whole stardust fiasco… to this. I don't think I'll manage to thank you enough."
Before he could say anything, he caught the slight grin she gave him just as she leaned over and hugged him. Damian could do nothing but return the gesture, resting his cheek on the top of her head a moment later.
"I'm really glad to have you around," she suddenly said, her voice soft and slightly muffled by the embrace.
The feeling is mutual.
"Could you get the tuna salad sandwich? And ask—"
"Ask for whole grain wheat and not toasted with the crusts cut off and a pickle on the side."
Jess fell silent, staring at Damian as he went on typing in the restaurant's number. He seemed oblivious to her surprise until he put the phone to his ear and glanced at her, reading the expression on her face.
Brow raising, he asked, "What?"
"I…" She shook her head and managed to say, "Nothing. Guess I'm just kind of surprised you knew I was going to say that."
They'd spent a lot of time in the manor kitchen and sometimes eating out, but Jess couldn't really recall having mentioned her specific preference when it came to sandwiches and bread. It wasn't something she really just told people unless necessary… Maybe she'd said something to Alfred when he'd whipped up food for them at one point?
"Jessica. We had sandwiches that first day we went to the diner. You asked for whole grain, and then you timidly asked if they'd be willing to remove the crust."
The way he said it was so straightforward and matter-of-fact as if it was something she should have known. And he was right; now that she thought about it, she had made her order in hopes the waitress wouldn't have a problem with it. She recalled wondering if Damian would say something about her strange, picky request, but he hadn't.
After he finished placing the order and hung up, Jess spoke up. "That's nice that you remembered. Even I had no idea what you were talking about for a second."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I considered it odd at the time, but I've found that you do have strange preferences and habits."
Curiosity had her raising her brows and crossing her arms. "Really? Like what?"
Part of her assumed she'd be surprised because she hadn't noticed them herself, so she was definitely eager to know what he'd picked up.
"Well, other than a dislike for bread crust, you can't stand black coffee and require copious amounts of cream and sugar. And more specifically, you prefer french vanilla creamer to hazelnut — which is why Alfred started stocking more of that in the fridge.
"Moreover, it has come to my attention that you aren't a fan of being the center of attention for whatever reason. Perhaps performing in the rink is different, but you became antsy and shy when Misty introduced you to a group of friends. Even when you were opening your birthday gifts at her house with only four of us present, you were nervous.
"Speaking of that, I can easily tell when you are anxious by how often you play with that ring on your finger. It's one thing to see it on your face yet another when you are constantly spinning it as if it helps you think."
Whoa.
At this point, not many things surprised her when it came to Damian and what he was good at. But this attention to detail… it was incredible. Even Jess knew she wouldn't have been able to name those things about herself, so hearing them from him was nothing short of a pleasant surprise and, in a way, kind of cool. He'd listed it all so casually as if reciting lines from a play or stating random facts that he just happened to know about. Apparently, Damian knew her well — she was almost confident enough to say he knew her better than she knew herself.
For some reason, Kade crossed her mind and she almost immediately knew he wouldn't have been able to do the same thing.
Maybe because he didn't even really know you at all.
"I… didn't realize you paid so much attention," Jess said with a meager smile.
Damian was staring right at her, his eyes seemingly full of reflection and thoughts she wished she could read.
Suddenly breaking eye contact, she busied herself with shifting her textbooks and notes around on her desk. "I bet I could name stuff about you, too."
"Oh?" Though the expression on his face was blank and awaiting, she saw the hint of that signature Damian Wayne smugness in there.
"Oh, yeah." Jess joined him where he sat at the edge of her bed and turned to look at him. "You're a perfectionist when it comes to your cooking except for the few times you actually let me help you… but it seems like that applies to other things — remember that time you randomly fixed my tie when I thought it looked completely fine?
"Mm… sometimes you get quiet, real quiet. Not that there's anything wrong with us sitting in silence, like when I'm doing homework and you're doing your own thing, but I look over and your head seems to be somewhere else completely. Know how I can tell?"
She crossed the room to reach out to him. Her pointer finger found its way to the middle of his brows, where the few lines in his skin were exactly what she was referring to. Grinning at him a little, Jess took her hand back and saw the intrigued look he was giving her.
"When we first met, I couldn't really figure you out 'cause you were just so broody and seemed to have the same facial expression all the time," she continued. "I'm still learning about your mysterious ways, but I feel like I'm getting there."
Damian rolled his eyes. "Tt. Thank goodness you've realized I'm capable of more than one facial expression."
"Right now, my guess is at four or five. But give me more time, and I'll read you like one of the books in your library."
"Half of them are written in old English or in languages you don't speak, so your metaphor is erroneous."
"And that!" Jess let out a laugh, her eyes widening with entertainment. "The way you correct me or counter the things I say… You do it all the damn time."
He raised a brow, examining her change in expression. "Is it a problem?"
"No, Dami," she reassured him with a knowing smile and a gentle push at his shoulder (which normally would've earned a scowl but didn't, for some reason). "In fact, our banter is fun. It's probably one of my favorite things about us."
It was like she was learning about their friendship from a whole new perspective. Never before had Jess taken the time to figure out little details and behaviors of people she knew let alone given thought to the best parts of a relationship with someone. But she didn't have to think so hard to put a finger on things she'd noticed about him or name something about their interactions that she always enjoyed; the specifics had come to her easily. Maybe that spoke to how much time they'd spent together, how attentive they were, or merely a simple truth that explained it all: the two of them were just that close.
Damian's faint smile was still there, his emerald gaze holding steady with hers. "I agree," he said simply.
Glancing down at the only ring she wore, Jess pulled it off and handed it to him. Aware of her friend examining her first and then the ring next, she explained, "It's actually my mom's… or, well, used to be hers. It's one of the few things of theirs that I decided to keep after the accident. Besides her wedding ring, this is the one she always wore. I think my dad bought it for her a while back. I have no idea if it's real silver or—"
"White gold," Damian said immediately as he turned the glittering ring over in his fingers. "Eighteen-karat at the very least."
"Oh. Well, that's nice to know."
"You're missing a diamond."
"Huh?"
He showed her the spot in the band where a tiny hole disrupted the single line of diamonds that had decorated the entire band.
Frowning, Jess took it from him to further examine it. "This must've happened somewhat recently. I know they were all there last time I stared at this thing." She shrugged and slipped it back on. "Guess I shouldn't fiddle with it so often."
Eyes on the ring, Damian nodded towards it and said, "Alfred can take it to a reputable jeweler in the city who can replace the missing diamond."
"Oh… No, I'm not worried about it. It's really small and unnoticeable—"
"I noticed it."
She paused and then rolled her eyes at the look on his face. "Right, well, of course you noticed it. You were also looking right at it. If it's on my finger, no one will notice it otherwise. Not even me."
"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks for it to be done."
"And it'll cost, what, a couple hundred bucks?"
"Judging by the size and quality… that seems accurate. And I will pay for it, of course," Damian told her with a raised brow.
Shaking her head, Jess answered, "Thank you, but no, thank you."
"As you wish."
Suspicion rising in her, she eyed her friend who was glancing at his watch and standing to head for the door. That had been such a quick surrender on his part…
"Damian."
"Hm?"
"Don't be getting any ideas, okay?"
"Alright."
"If I wake up one day with a new diamond in this ring, I swear..."
"You swear what?"
"... I'll think of something."
Note: this chapter was a lot fluffier than I'd intended, but i suppose it's a nice (though more boring) breather from the last one maybe? xD figured it would be good to focus on how Damian and Jess would come back from that confrontation with Kade and explore how they're dealing with it. But more action and drama are coming as soon as the next update, so there is no shortage in excitement around here :)
thanks for all your reviews! wanted to say to anoyak111 that Helena could potentially have an appearance, but we will have to see since I do have plans for incorporating other Batfam members pretty soon as well. It's not impossible though, maybe she'll at least drop by to say hi ;)
evabrennan, sometimes i think you have access to my drafts because when you mention something, i'm already in the middle of it lol! (when you left your review, i was in the middle of writing bruce's POV at the beginning of this chapter xD) perhaps you simply just have a finger on the pulse of my writing, which i won't complain about at all haha. But yes, there's still so much to cover with both Damian and Jess, and as long as writer's block doesn't pay me a visit, we're gonna start diving right into it over the next few chapters now that Kade has been shoved—er, punched out of the way
Until next time! Xx
p.s. Just something random to share, but there is a very talented artist on Instagram and Etsy by the username 02png who has done some amazing artwork centering around DC characters, mostly the Batboys. if you want to see their incredible stuff, i highly recommend you check them out! Call me biased, but i'm particularly obsessed with the way they've drawn Damian and Jason.
