sixthiterationlogs | What the fuck was I thinking?

Skip to Main Content

Entry tags:

What the fuck was I thinking?

WHO: Stephanie Brown
WHERE: Behind/inside Jason's house
WHEN: October
OPEN TO: Jason Todd
WARNINGS: None anticipated

As soon as Steph figured out how the telepathy thing worked she started thinking about ways to exploit it for shits and giggles. Of course, that depends very much on the audience. Vergil, for example, probably wouldn't be amused by her usual shenanigans. Not that he's ever amused by anything. Jason, though, he would make the perfect mark. The availability of targets does seem to vary depending on location, so she stations herself at the back of Jason's house away from any of the windows and waits until she can select him to pair with.

Jason, she thinks, imitating a ghost as one does. This is the voice of your conscience...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What did Jason ever do to deserve this.

When Steph connects her mind to his, he’s just sitting inside his house on the couch, minding his own business and quietly reading a book from the new library, an instructional guide on knitting. When the new voice appears inside his head, Jason yelps and drops the book in his surprise.

That can’t be right, he thinks, I was pretty sure I don’t have one of those.

Steph snickers behind the house. It's a good reaction.

I'm here, she complains in that sad ghost voice. But we never talk anymore. I get lonely. Up here. What was he reading? With the knitting.

Oh, so you're reading along? he asks, amused. Are you making any sense out of all those instructions, or am I just too dumb to get what it's saying to do?

Written knitting instructions aren't the easiest thing to read, especially when you don't have any yarn or needles to follow along with and learn physically how to manipulate the stitches around.

Well, you've got my attention, Jason continues. What do you want to talk about?

It would probably help if, it's getting very hard to keep up what is essentially an Eeyore voice now all in her head. If you had some knitting needles and yarn. Just a thought. Damn, she's starting to lose it now.

I think we should be doing more to help others. Like intimidating that mechanic into working on the sewing machine.

I'll be sure to drop that in the suggestion box at the library, he thinks. There is no suggestion box, of course. Dear Observers: this book should come with practice materials.

It's not an entirely bad idea. Jason wonders passingly if anyone in the village makes yarn or needles. At this point, he's not picky about picking up something to do to keep his hands busy.

Didn't know we had a mechanic working on a sewing machine. For that matter, I didn't know my conscience knew how to sew. You got any other hidden skills I should know about?

She snorts behind the house, and her mind-voice completely loses the 'sad ghost' tone.

I know how to play the piano?

Jason was pretty sure his psychic troll was Steph, but when her voice normalizes, his suspicion is confirmed.

Sounds like you’re pretty damn talented, for a conscience. I’d love to hear more about how you managed to sneak off to learn to play piano, ‘cause I don’t know how to do that. You wanna come inside?

I’m already inside... your head.

Still, she drags herself to her feet again, still giggling manically. Definitely worth it. She groans and stretches her neck and arms.

God, I really need to get a mattress up to my room, she thinks distractedly.

Edited 2018-11-01 03:55 (UTC)

So come double inside, he thinks, walking toward the front door to unlock it. That bit about the mattress makes Jason stop in his tracks, though.

Didn’t wherever you’re staying come with a mattress?

What? Shit, did she think that too loud? She thought it was only really strong thoughts that went through. She stops too, only halfway around the side of the house.

Of course it did, why wouldn’t it?

You tell me - you just said you needed to drag a mattress up to your room.

So in Jason's mind, it's a fair conclusion that there isn't one wherever Steph is staying. He unlocks the front door and steps out onto the porch, watching for her to emerge.

You're not living in the barn or up in a treehouse or something like that, are ya?

Uuuuhhhhhh, is all she thinks for a time before she starts to fiddle with her watch looking for the disconnect button. She starts walking again, eyes still on the device. While she walks she's thinking so hard about how to proceed that it's unfortunately hard to keep the thoughts to herself.

She could definitely use the help. Mattresses are heavy, and she'll have to fold it to fit it through the opening, and maybe it's a two person job after all. It's probably okay if Jason knows where she lives, as long as nobody else figures it out. That should be a good thing, right?

She finally manages to shut off the connection as she rounds the corner to the front of the house, her face red with embarrassment. She was trying to be funny, and instead she just made things weird.

"It's a house," she answers defensively. "A house-house."

It was funny, but it seems to have taken a turn into Steph being distressed, which is a little perplexing for Jason, but he can make some guesses as to what he said to cause the shift in mood. He remembers what it felt like in the weeks after his resurrection, his sense of hyper-vigilance turned all the way up, thinking he'd never be any degree of safe ever again. It's not outside of the realm of possibility that Steph might be feeling the same, might want to have a secret place where no one can find her or hurt her - a sanctuary among the chaos.

He leans against a support pillar of the porch, on one side of the stairs, arms folded over his chest. "Wasn't trying to pry," he counters, gently, in response to her defensiveness. "Just figured I'd offer to help, if you wanted it."

Jason glances back over his shoulder at the front door, considering how what he wants to suggest will be taken. "You know," he begins, turning his attention back toward Steph, "I've got an extra room I'm not using - mattress already included. You'd be welcome to stay here, if you wanted." He shrugs, casual. "Whenever you wanted."

She shoves her hands in her pockets, staying just off the porch while she decides what to do. Yeah, it's embarrassing to admit that she's kind of been hiding in an attic since she got here. But it would be really nice to sleep in a real bed again and have someone else take care of the booby-traps.

"Really? Having a teenager around won't cramp your style? 'Cause we'd need to fit a mattress into a hole like, this big." She pulls her hands out of her pockets to indicate the size of an attic entrance accessed by ladder.

"I was thinking maybe I'd cut it in half and put it back together."

Jason snorts a quiet laugh. "Do I really look like I've got any style to cramp?" he asks, with a wry half-smile. The answer to that is, of course, no. "Besides," he continues, "it's only been a few years since I was a teenager. It's all loud music and junk food and fighting with knives, from what I remember."

Also, you know. Being brutally killed. An important thing he and Steph have in common.

"It's up to you," he says, with another light shrug. "No pressure. No strings, either - I'm not your dad, and I'm not gonna lay down any stupid rules or curfew or anything like that. You can come and go whenever you want - if you want." That part is important to Jason to stress - that as much as he'd enjoy having Steph around more, it has to be her decision, if she wants to stay. He's stubbornly independent, a half-feral child of the streets, and one of the worst things about living with Bruce was the restriction that he couldn't just leave when he wanted.

"Cutting a mattress seems like a lot of work, though. Also kinda messy."

She gives a snort and a wry smile.

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Her friends were less into knife-fighting than their fashion choices might suggest, and she dealt with guns more than anything else, but the spirit is there.

She sighs.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Maybe if she tried couch cushions instead... Returning to the matter at hand, she gave him a calculating look. Yeah... yeah, she could trust Jason to keep the place safe, even if serious trouble came calling.

“You’re really sure you don’t mind? It wouldn’t be all the time.” She didn’t want him thinking she couldn’t take care of herself, even if it was a little true.

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't a hundred percent sincere. I promise."

It's not that Jason thinks Steph can't take care of herself - he knows Bruce wouldn't have let her wear Robin's stoplight colors if she weren't up to the task, regardless of his later abandonment. He's developed protective feelings for her, however, and the impulse to do what he can to lend a hand where he's allowed is impossible to shake.

"Seriously, you're welcome to stay as much or as little as you want. And it makes for shorter travel time if you wanna talk in the middle of the night - or not talk." Like they've done before.

"Okay," she agrees with some hesitation. She trusts him, but she does have her image to think about.

"Maybe just a night or two. Give my back some time to recover." Purely a practical arrangement.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only