Young Writers Society

He looked at her from underneath his hood and behind his helmet.

He knew that he was keeping his own secrets about his life, but he couldn't help but wonder what her secrets were - something told him that she had a lot more to her life than she was letting on. Part of the reasoning came from their fighting the day before, but the majority of it was from the way she spoke. Something must have happened to make her leave her home.

He just wished he could understand what.

Because Jason had the feeling if he understood her past, then he would be able to be a better friend.

...Was it silly to want to be friends with someone he only had seen once, and probably wouldn't see again?

"I'm still learning," he admitted. "I'm a good cook now, but I used to burn everything back when I first started."

She laughed, "I still burn everything. I have to buy bread from..." she shook her head, "Well, I'd rather not reveal who's been supplying me with food, but the point is, I can't make it myself. Unless Eddie develops a taste for charcoal."

It was around then that she realized she didn't want him to leave. She wanted someone around who she could talk to, who would actually understand and who could help her keep track of Eddie so the incident that brought him to her door wouldn't happen again. Mostly, though, she just wanted to be able to talk like this more often. With actual humor.

She shook the thought from her head. He had to go home. It was better that he did it quickly.

Jason gave a little laugh, though it was slightly muffled by his helmet.

"Damian's lucky he came along when he did," he admitted. "And my wallet is, too - we would be eating out or ordering food a lot more than we do right now."

They were in town now, weaving through the streets on their way to the shoreline.

"I suppose he is." There was a pause, a comfortable one. Not the kind that led to awkward shifting and a desire to somehow fill it. "Are you...are you sure you want to go home?" she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage, which was impressively nonchalantly. She'd had a great deal of practice carelessly asking sensitive questions.

He faltered again, his gaze dropping down to the ground.

"...Gotham's my home," he quietly said. "It has a lot of problems, but I...I can't imagine living anywhere else now. And I can't leave Damian, either."

He finally mustered the courage to look up.

"But I've enjoyed our time together," he added, "and I really don't want this to be the last time we see each other..."

She nodded, her face expressionless.

"I understand. I was just asking because this magic is dangerous a lot of the time, and hard to come by." And I'll be blackmailing a girl to get it. She didn't say that last part. Something told her a vigilante wouldn't approve of her methods.

An idea came to him.

"It's...not common," he slowly said. "But there are ways for people from my world to travel to other worlds. I could track one of those down and visit you more. I'm just not sure how long it would take to find something like that."

He gave a small smile underneath his helmet that she couldn't see. "This doesn't have to be the last time we see each other."

She looked him over.

"Are you sure you could convince one of them to do that? I mean, you're charming and all, but that's a pretty big favor, especially if you plan to come here with any frequency."

She refused to entertain the concept. He was leaving, he wasn't returning. All other strains of thought were wishful thinking.

He blushed a little at her compliment - making him grateful that his helmet hid his face.

"I can," he said. "I'm sure of it. Like I said, it might take time. I'm not sure how long it would be until I can find a way. But I know that there has to be one out there somewhere. There's been times where people from other realities have ended up in mine, and space travel is common if you know the right people. I can cash in a few favors to find the way here, and then I'll be able to visit you and Eddie whenever I can."

'Whenever you can' could easily be never. She didn't share that thought aloud. Eventually, he would run out of favors and he would stop showing up, even if he did get to come a few times. And then it'd just be more painful. For Eddie.

He was young now, young enough that he might forget Jason completely in a few years. If Jason was able to come back, even a few times over, then Eddie could grow to ask why he stopped showing up. Megara didn't want to answer that question.

"Don't," she said quietly, "It'll hurt Eddie less if you don't come back." Not just Eddie. Another thought to ignore.

The words were sharp blades in soft skin.

He looked over at her and saw how expressionless her face. The blades dug in a little deeper at that, but he didn't bother trying to dislodge them. Trying to move them never made the pain go away.

"Oh," he said, then bit back what he really wanted to say. "That makes sense."

He should have seen it coming. They barely knew each other, and thinking that this was the start to some glorious friendship was just him trying to fulfill a dream he knew he'd never get. Damian would be gone someday. Dick already was. Bruce and Alfred were, too. He'd make new connections and leave them all and start them all over again, because that was what Jason Todd did. He was a loner, and the plot didn't let him forget that.

Jaylin wouldn't let him forget that.

"I can't wait to see Damian," he said, standing a little straighter as they walked towards their destination. "I won't be able to tell him anything about what happened, but I'm really missing him right now."

He spoke surprisingly clear for someone who was crying under his helmet.

She couldn't tell if she'd hurt him, and somehow that made everything hurt worse.

Actors, they both were. Acting for an audience that wasn't there. She blinked slowly, wanting to squeeze her eyes shut and forget how to feel. By some twist of cruel irony, she came to realize that she forgot how to do that. How to block everything out. Just on the job. No one means anything. But she wasn't on the job. This was her life. She'd worked so hard to claim it, was still working to keep it, and now....

She couldn't tell if she was screwing it up or saving it.

"I'm sure Damian will be happy to see you," she said, so much emotion begging to break free from her monotone. No, Briar's monotone, which she'd adopted. That revelation twisted her insides, made her sick. "You won't have been gone long." Just overnight. She'd gotten this attached to him just overnight.

What would her father say if he saw how pathetic she'd become?

"Yeah," he confirmed, choking back a sob that was desperately trying to break free. He felt for his wrists underneath his cloak - grateful that Megara couldn't see what he was doing.

Then again, he had been wrong about how things had been going between them, so part of him wondered if she would even care that much if she realized how much her response was affecting him. "I'll even be getting back in time to beat him home before he comes back from his school trip - which was one of my biggest worries after getting here, so I'm glad I can stop feeling nervous."

His words were wrong. They ended too early, as if he had to cut himself off to keep something back. Something he wanted to say?

She closed her eye gently, both to remind the tears to stay back and to wipe the thought from her mind. She was hearing what she wanted to hear, and she wanted to hear him upset. She wanted to know if her words hurt.

It wasn't like when she'd wanted those things before. Before, she wanted to hear pain and fear, blended together in that perfect symphony that meant she was going to spend the weekend in her own room or wandering around the city of her own free will rather than chained to the wall in that dark little room that wasn't supposed to be under the manor.

She wasn't so sure she wasn't cruel in wanting to hear the same emotions from her friend.

Friend.

No. He was a lot of things, a friend couldn't be one of them. Here now, gone later. That's all he could be.

"That's good." Gods, she sounded so much like Briar.

It was time for another change in topic.

He let his arms fall to his sides, though Megara would have never realized they weren't raised in the first place. Talking about Damian wasn't helping him right now. He needed to talk about something else. He needed to talk about getting home because that was the only way he'd get his mind off of how horribly the last few minutes had gone. A goal would make everything else fade away.

"Is there anything I should know before we get to where we're going?" he asked. He had to check. It was instinctual now, and the incident at Megara's place was all he needed as a reminder. He couldn't trust the safety of somewhere just because someone said no harm would befall him.