knowsthepeople | eight [voice]

[Patrick's mostly neutral if slightly frustrated and/or worried expression remained unchanged at the flip, even if it's a pretty impressive move for someone with a busted arm and other injuries he's still not sure about.] Never said you did, guy.

Your ribs just bruised, or you break a couple? [It's a bit of a leap, and he doubts his inmate will tell him the truth anyway, but again, he's concerned.]

Just bruised.

[Vaguely, he remembers the last time he denied cracked ribs. The difference between Egon and Patrick makes him relent a little, albeit reluctantly.]

If I feel worse I'll go, okay?

[That's better than nothing, so he backs off on the issue. That doesn't mean he's leaving though, and instead changes topic slightly, looking a little more relaxed.] So, what happened?

[Jason looks a little amused and a little annoyed, but he answers readily enough.]

That's what I get for socializing with a fucknuts deity. One minute we're all fumbling with the fucking ball, next minute she's just tearing into us like we're her personal sacrifice. I can't say I expected that, but at the same time, I can't say I was surprised either. What a psycho.

[He doesn't sound upset at all, though. Then, without really anything in the way of conversational shift—]

So, how've your lessons with Bruce or Dick been going?

[Because he's pretty damn sure one of them will have approached Patrick about it, once they'd been paired. His smile is sort of mockingly kindly, friendly in that special not-actually-friendly Jason way.]

[If Patrick was surprised about Jason knowing or suspecting he'd been getting tutored by someone from back home, he didn't show it, and instead continued on in an amicable tone, choosing not to go into specifics or say which one of the two had been training him.]

They're fine. Might even come in handy next time this place is fallin' apaht. [Meaning, it was probably some minor miracle he hadn't broken anything yet, because Bruce was pretty fucking brutal, even if he wasn't intentionally out to do damage. He actually was pretty black and blue all over, but long sleeves and jeans did wonders when it came to hiding injuries.]

Guess at least she didn't actually maim anyone oah whatever. Heard she got pretty fuckin' out of control oah somethin' a couple months ago.

[If Patrick had reacted any other way, Jason would've been something like disappointed. His eyes are always cold, but not blinking very much and smiling like that gives them an edge. It's more or less a reflex with him. He doesn't want to be cooperative and conversational right now.]

Well, don't try going up against her. Whatever you've learned won't be enough. I doubt even Bruce could handle her without sufficient preparation.

[Casually, he turns a little away, rotating the shoulder of his broken arm.]

But I'll fight her again, when my arm heals up.

[Patrick just chuckles a little hoarsely. He's not put off by his inmate's expression, and while he knows it's really just a matter of time before Jason shuts down entirely and doesn't want to continue dealing with him for a while, he's okay with it.]

Don't worry guy, I don't have any plans on tryin' to take on an angry goddess oah whatever.

[Jason's the one who brought it up, so he chanced another question about his injuries.] How bad's the break?

Nothing's sticking out or anything. It might just be a fracture.

[... the sheer indifference in his voice. But it's a happy sort of indifference, like this is how things are supposed to be.]

Listen — [He glances back at Patrick, picking up his bottle of water.] You know what's on my mind, and I'm not going to pressure you for a decision, but it makes talking to you hard.

[While admittedly, "nothing's sticking out" didn't mean it wasn't serious, Patrick wasn't overly concerned. The kid obviously had a high level of pain tolerance, but the fact that he was mobile and not in enough pain to stop him from working out was sort of reassuring. So, he let Jason change the topic again, responding honestly.]

I know.

You really want to erase that whole paht of your life, maybe permanently? [He consciously let the neutral act slip a little, still trying to understand.] I get that pahts of it - alright, all of it's hahd to deal with, but you really want to try stahting over with nothin'? I mean, we've all got stuff we'd rather forget, but you really need to take the good pahts too? Ah there good pahts?

[His accent got a little stronger the more he let his emotions slip into his words.]

[The question makes him retreat inward some, though he himself doesn't move at all, not for a long moment. Then he works on unscrewing the bottle one-handed. NO YOU CAN'T HELP, PATRICK.]

It's the good parts I need to forget.

[He can't quite say that like it's nothing, so he elects to be as stoic as possible about it. This involves focusing on the bottle.]

It's the good parts that hurt the most.

[And then he drinks, just. Not looking at Patrick, not really seeing anything.]

[Patrick thinks about his own dad for a moment - torn between memories of watching baseball, learning how to ride a bike, typical kid stuff and then his drunken fights with his mom, which he'd started getting in the middle of when he was old enough not to be scared of him but instead scared for his mom - and he kind of gets it. Obviously not to the same extent, but the good memories made it harder every time his dad turned violent or yelled or didn't show up for something because he was too drunk to be bothered. So when he spoke, there was some real 'I kind of understand' empathy in his tone, trying to get through to him a little.]

Jason, it doesn't always have to be like this.

[Not like he really knew that for sure. It wasn't like he'd had time to really reconcile with his father before he'd died, and even then, he'd long ago come to terms with the fact that his dad was kind of a bum. Bruce at least clearly gave a fuck about the kid.]

This place is all about second chances, right? Foah all of us. And you can't go through life without anythin' positive. That's a pretty miserable fuckin' experience.

I was okay before I met Bruce.

[He fiddles absently with the cap, still not... looking anywhere at first, but eventually focusing on Patrick again once he realizes what he's doing.]

I'll make new memories here. Become someone else. Since what I am isn't acceptable.

[Yeah, there was no attempt to hide the bitterness there. The anger brings him back to the present.]

This is me working with you, the only way I can figure how. I don't know how much you know about Bruce, I don't think any file in the world can really make you understand — he's impossible, he's — you know none of us are related, right? Yet we're all fucking obsessed. But I'm not his son anymore, I can't. Do this.

You'ah not his son anymore because he doesn't want you to be, oah because you don't want to be?

[The question was asked pretty immediately, and here hinged part of Patrick's potential decision. If this was some ploy to get away from Bruce because Jason felt like he didn't care about him anymore, then he wasn't agreeing to it. The guy was fucked up, sure, but he did love the kid, and Patrick wasn't going to condone Jason pushing himself even farther away because of a misguided idea that his family didn't care about him.]

Both.

[Because things with Jason are never easy. Agitated, he swings around to face Patrick fully, but instead of going off anymore, he shakes his head.]

We're not talking about this in public.

[Patrick doesn't back down, although he's gone back to the calm, sort of cold neutrality, which is his version of being agitated or angry.]

Alright, but we ah talkin' about this, okay?

Edited 2011-04-15 04:39 (UTC)

Now?

[Unwilling as he is to address this, he can sense this is important to Patrick's decision. He can't refuse to talk about it yet.]

Up to you, guy. But I'm not agreein' to anything until we do.

After dinner.

[It's snappish and probably the most aggressive Jason's bothered to be so far. He doesn't even really wait for agreement, just stalks off to the showers to brood for a while. Or, like, all through dinner, fuck everything.]

[And Patrick just lets him go, because seriously, there's no real use arguing. But he'll be holding you to that, Jason.]

[At about 7:30 PM, he's waiting outside Patrick's door. He won't make a fuss if Patrick directs them to Jason's room, though.]

[And a couple minutes later, Patrick shows up. He's had some more time to sit and think about how to handle this, but they definitely aren't talking about it in the hallway.]

Hey.

[He unlocks the door to his room and steps inside, leaving the door open for Jason to follow and presumably shut behind them. It's his apartment from back home - a second story in a somewhat rundown brownstone in Dorchester which is on the smaller side and a little cluttered with stuff, although the absence of Angie's things made it look like it was sort of missing something. Still, he didn't get straight to the point, heading over to the kitchen and calling back over to his inmate.]

You want anything to drink oah whatever?

[He can't actually help glancing around when he's inside, though he keeps it casual.]

I'm all right.

[Because fuck if he's getting the least bit inebriated for this talk. Even the fact he automatically cases a new place upon entering it annoys him. Bruce, why the hell did you teach him all this?]

[Patrick nods and actually grabs a glass of water anyway rather than a beer, leaning against one of the counters instead of taking a seat. He's quiet for a moment, but finally opts for just getting to the point.]

He still loves you, you know.

[The flash of hostility across his face is the only sign of movement from him; he doesn't sit, but he doesn't pace either. He's not going to flip out on Patrick. That won't convince him to do what Jason wants.]

He made a choice.

[And again, the flash doesn't bother him. It's not that he's underestimating him - Jason could kick his ass in about three seconds even with a busted arm and broken ribs - but just that he's not intimidated, and honestly, sort of trusts the kid not to totally lose it with him just yet.]

Then why'd he bother making sure I wasn't just gonna fuck around with you when we first got assigned?

eight [voice]

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[spam] keywords for slight irony?

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