You said I was lying. [So, you know. Same thing, basically. Also? Not funny.] Do you really want to turn this into semantical hairsplitting?
[There's something of a history for Tim - of not being believed, of being discounted, of needing to fight to prove himself. Not just with Jason, but the sting of it feels sharper when Jason's involved. (What doesn't feel sharper when Jason's involved? He's a walking raw nerve, and it's difficult not to mirror that.)]
Is it really so difficult for you to believe that I'd want to be around you? No tricks, no fighting, just - I don't know, Jason. This. [Tim throws up his hands, a vague gesture of exasperation.] Does it always have to be about punching for you? Or do you have an off button?
Do you really want me to leave? Because I have plenty of shit I'm shoveling up daily, I don't need this.
[He's annoyed now, because Tim won't let it go. Because Tim wanted him to move on and move forward and he's getting stuck on this... this. Jason doesn't even know what the hell it is. He thought they were building some sort of rapport between them. Some sort of understanding}
I don't know, Tim. Maybe I don't have an off button. Maybe you don't really want to be around me, if this is who I am. You want an off button? Earn it. Stop getting on my damn case.
Tim knows this, instinctively, in a place beyond words; he can sense Jason tensing up, starting to shove the door shut in his face. He should shut up, drop this, let it go, stop pushing, but when has that ever been Tim Drake's methodology?
This is probably going to end up chasing Jason off. But the words he wants to say are burning a hole inside Tim's chest. So he doesn't stop. He doesn't drop it, doesn't let it go, doesn't shut up.]
Just answer me this, Jason - what are you so afraid of?
[That has to be the reason why he keeps pushing away when invited in. Right? Fight or flight, and Jason's both.]
[ Yes, Tim really ought to shut up right about now. But when does he ever? When do any of them ever know when to stop antagonizing each other? Tim really knows how to push his buttons.
If there were any walls that Jason dropped down, they're all shooting right up again and he shakes his head, starting to regret how comfortable he was starting to get. He shouldn't have come over in the first place. Tim reacting to him the way he did on the phone earlier should have been a red flag, but of course Jason had to jump head first into a bad situation.
Yeah, this went from eating burgers to a pretty bad situation, as far as Jason's concerned. ]
Afraid? You've got to be kidding me. What the hell would I have to be afraid of? You?
[He scoffs, tossing his napkin back on the table and stands up. He's just about crossing the threshold to mean, because he sure as hell isn't going to delve into what he's afraid of.]
You're all the same and I'm tired of wasting my time.
[Tim's on his feet just as fast, reaching for Jason's arm. This is all going horribly sideways, and he knows it; it's a piece of machinery disintegrating in his hands, pieces slipping through his fingers, and it's his fault, he knows that too, but he still can't stop.]
I don't know, Jason! If you're not afraid, then tell me - why do you keep leaving?
[Stupid, he thinks, catching his breath, stupid, and he's not entirely sure if he means Jason or himself or both of them.]
[ Jason yanks his arm away and takes a step back, knocking the chair aside. The whole situation is going sideways and upside down, breaking at the hinges. Did he really think they could sit down and do this together? Last time was a fluke. It had to have been. This is why Jason doesn't do repeat family events. ]
Because of this. Because you think you know me and you don't. You expect me to give a shit about you? I don't. You expect me to see any of you as anything more than liars? I don't. And you, you're the worst of all. You act like you're reaching out, like you're interested in.... what? Fixing things? But all you really want to do is pick me apart.
You know what I'm afraid of? That I'll fall for this shit all over again. Go hang out with Dick. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you about feelings.
[He isn't going to stop this time. He grabs his jacket, his helmet and tucks it under his arm as he makes his way to the window. There's anger boiling over inside of him, but mostly it's disappointment. He was stupid to come here]
[Tim could try to stop Jason. He could follow him out the window, chase him down across the rooftops, demand that he listen, but that would all be futile, wouldn't it. You can't make Jason Todd do anything.
So he doesn't try to stop Jason. Tim stands there in his apartment, feeling like he's been slapped, hard, and watches Jason vanish out the window, into the night.
He's wrong. Jason's so wrong, and Tim wants to explain, with an intensity that makes him feel like he's caught fire inside, to prove to Jason that he's not like the others, he does want to fix things - God, what does Tim do except try to fix things - and he doesn't know Jason, and maybe that's why it seems like he's trying to pick Jason apart.
But Tim can't explain to an empty space. Hell, Jason's just effectively made it so Tim can't even reach him; his phone's still sitting on the table, blinking that the data transfer is complete. Pulling himself out of the shock of Jason's words, Tim rubs a hand over his face and shakes his head at himself.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[There's something of a history for Tim - of not being believed, of being discounted, of needing to fight to prove himself. Not just with Jason, but the sting of it feels sharper when Jason's involved. (What doesn't feel sharper when Jason's involved? He's a walking raw nerve, and it's difficult not to mirror that.)]
Is it really so difficult for you to believe that I'd want to be around you? No tricks, no fighting, just - I don't know, Jason. This. [Tim throws up his hands, a vague gesture of exasperation.] Does it always have to be about punching for you? Or do you have an off button?
no subject
[He's annoyed now, because Tim won't let it go. Because Tim wanted him to move on and move forward and he's getting stuck on this... this. Jason doesn't even know what the hell it is. He thought they were building some sort of rapport between them. Some sort of understanding}
I don't know, Tim. Maybe I don't have an off button. Maybe you don't really want to be around me, if this is who I am. You want an off button? Earn it. Stop getting on my damn case.
no subject
Tim knows this, instinctively, in a place beyond words; he can sense Jason tensing up, starting to shove the door shut in his face. He should shut up, drop this, let it go, stop pushing, but when has that ever been Tim Drake's methodology?
This is probably going to end up chasing Jason off. But the words he wants to say are burning a hole inside Tim's chest. So he doesn't stop. He doesn't drop it, doesn't let it go, doesn't shut up.]
Just answer me this, Jason - what are you so afraid of?
[That has to be the reason why he keeps pushing away when invited in. Right? Fight or flight, and Jason's both.]
no subject
If there were any walls that Jason dropped down, they're all shooting right up again and he shakes his head, starting to regret how comfortable he was starting to get. He shouldn't have come over in the first place. Tim reacting to him the way he did on the phone earlier should have been a red flag, but of course Jason had to jump head first into a bad situation.
Yeah, this went from eating burgers to a pretty bad situation, as far as Jason's concerned. ]
Afraid? You've got to be kidding me. What the hell would I have to be afraid of? You?
[He scoffs, tossing his napkin back on the table and stands up. He's just about crossing the threshold to mean, because he sure as hell isn't going to delve into what he's afraid of.]
You're all the same and I'm tired of wasting my time.
no subject
I don't know, Jason! If you're not afraid, then tell me - why do you keep leaving?
[Stupid, he thinks, catching his breath, stupid, and he's not entirely sure if he means Jason or himself or both of them.]
no subject
Because of this. Because you think you know me and you don't. You expect me to give a shit about you? I don't. You expect me to see any of you as anything more than liars? I don't. And you, you're the worst of all. You act like you're reaching out, like you're interested in.... what? Fixing things? But all you really want to do is pick me apart.
You know what I'm afraid of? That I'll fall for this shit all over again. Go hang out with Dick. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you about feelings.
[He isn't going to stop this time. He grabs his jacket, his helmet and tucks it under his arm as he makes his way to the window. There's anger boiling over inside of him, but mostly it's disappointment. He was stupid to come here]
no subject
So he doesn't try to stop Jason. Tim stands there in his apartment, feeling like he's been slapped, hard, and watches Jason vanish out the window, into the night.
He's wrong. Jason's so wrong, and Tim wants to explain, with an intensity that makes him feel like he's caught fire inside, to prove to Jason that he's not like the others, he does want to fix things - God, what does Tim do except try to fix things - and he doesn't know Jason, and maybe that's why it seems like he's trying to pick Jason apart.
But Tim can't explain to an empty space. Hell, Jason's just effectively made it so Tim can't even reach him; his phone's still sitting on the table, blinking that the data transfer is complete. Pulling himself out of the shock of Jason's words, Tim rubs a hand over his face and shakes his head at himself.]
Nice work, Drake.