Father father please believe me (closed)

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Character(s): Egypt (Hassan), Damian Razem (Robin)
Location: A103 (Egypt's room)
Rating: PG for Damian's language
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: (Damian's bit is backdated to before the Ottoman Empire visit; Egypt's bit sometime after the visit) Figures these two'd learn each other's secrets eventually: Damian admits he's a superhero while Hassan confesses to being a country.

After that afternoon and the supposed acid trip he didn't remember, Robin didn't know how else to talk to Hassan. His ahki deserved more than taking care of him - and seriously, his other self HAD to call them a rainbow couple - and more than being a classmate. But what else could Damian do? Not much of anything, especially if he couldn't fight.

In retrospect, climbing into Hassan's room through the window may not have been the smartest idea, but he hadn't gotten the chance to change out of his costume after patrols. Softly closing the window so that Hassan's roommate wouldn't wake up, Robin carefully adjusted his goggles and glanced around the room.

"Ahki---" Right. The voice distorter was still on. Maybe he should turn it off?

"Err---Hassan? Do you have a moment?"

Comments

I HOPE YOU'VE LEARNED YOUR LESSON, YOUNG MAN

[biladi.livejournal.com]

The disapproval should be expected with the identity mixup. Egypt has little to nothing good to say about Robin; by now, the respect points are in the negatives. The theatrics might have worked on someone like America, he loves that kind of shit, but not Egypt. He's too old for this. A more... normal approach would have been best.

"Better be apolog—" He's about to get on Robin's case for the break-in and everything else that happened beforehand, but hearing the change in voice causes him to stop. Now it's Egypt's turn to freeze.

"...Damian?" Please excuse the next curse under his breath; he shouldn't be using that kind of language in front of kids, especially the ones that he likes, if this really is him. Mouth slightly agape, Egypt's grip on Damian's shoulder eases up, no longer meant to keep him from getting away. With his other hand he reaches for the goggles, intending to remove them to better see the kid's face. Sorry, if he was absolutely sure, he would be asking first.

LESSON LEARNED! NEVER DOING IT AGAIN (... UNTIL NEXT TIME)

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In Damian's defense, he couldn't think of an easier way to prove his identity. If he admitted to this in the morning, when they were talking amongst themselves, would Hassan have even believed him? (Damian certainly wouldn't have, were he placed in that situation.)

The curses don't faze Damian so much as the look on his ahki's face. Solemnly, he nods, unflinchingly allowing Hassan to remove his goggles. Without them, he felt more vulnerable than ever - they obscured his identity, for crying out loud! - but in this instance, he supposed he'd have to deal with the discomfort. Gazing up at Hassan, Damian tries to meet his friend's gaze and act like the revelation doesn't bother him.

Except it totally does. For the first time since he arrived in Garden, Damian notes that he actually can't see what's going on. Dammit. He promised himself he wouldn't cry!

:( AND NOW EGYPT WILL FEEL BAD FOREVER

[biladi.livejournal.com]

The change in expression is quick once the goggles are off and Egypt squints hard enough in the dark of the room. From anger, to shock, to confusion...

Shock again, then concern. The hard look in Egypt's eyes is gone, as is the sharp tone in his voice when he finds it. This is a lot to take it, and the implications of Damian wearing the Robin costume aren't all that pleasant, but now he's worried, too. Is the kid...?

"D-Damian?" Egypt lowers himself to one knee, a hand cupping the side of the young boy's face. His voice isn't hushed just to make sure Gakupo is asleep anymore.

DAMIAN LOVES HIM, REALLY ;;

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"I'm sorry," Damian blurts before he even knows what he's saying. The whole situation's weird - he doesn't remember seeing Hassan without his keffiyeh or robes - and he feels like he should "man up" and pretend like he isn't angry, but he doesn't know what else to do. Balling his hand into a fist, he avoids Hassan's gaze as he stares down at his feet. "I didn't mean to make you upset."

Still, in-between hiccups, he attempts to rub his eyes with his free hands. "But... I wanted to tell you. The reason why I wanted to keep talking to that zift, even after you got mad and stuff. He... he and I have the same superhero identity."

His voice's shakier now, as he attempts to say the rest in one breath without crying again, "I was the one who helped you in the Training Center, ahki. And I'm actually a lot better at fighting than I say I am... and I'm not majoring in Comp Sci. At all. And I--I---I'm sorry."

Had he been confessing this to anyone else, he would've denied it until the end of time---and if Hassan dares to bring it up later, he probably will.

[biladi.livejournal.com]

Egypt is too stunned to move, eyes fixed on Damian, but he's still able to listen, and he clings to every word shared. Two Robins — the training center? That was Damian? And suddenly the start contrasts between the first and second Robin encounters make a lot more sense.

Not majoring in Comp Sci, eh, not as important as the rest of the confession. Maybe it would have been easier to get upset if Damian weren't crying. Saved by the waterworks.

Egypt is shushing the kid quietly, wiping away tears with his thumb. The hand at Damian's shoulder moves to run through his dark hair, a gentle, repetitive motion. While he works on calming Damian down, Egypt will have time to process the information that's just been spilled. It's too much at once — but perhaps it's better now than later. An out-of-costume confession might have given less-convincing results.

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He doesn't wait to embrace him tightly. Part of Damian feels embarrassed for being so open, especially since it's so late at night, but it's that same close touch that makes him feel better. How badly is ahki gonna judge him? It takes a few minutes for Damian to cease sobbing, though it takes longer for his tears to dry. Latching onto his older brother, he wraps his arms around Hassan's waist - or he tries to, at least, since he can't see in the dark without his goggles.

"Do you hate me?" He asks quietly, though he feels like he knows the answer already. "I... I wouldn't have lied if I'd known it'd make you upset."

Already, the motions're making him relax - not enough to put up his guard again, but enough for him to finally act his age. Honestly, he should've owned up to these feelings months ago... he just never got around to it. Until now.

[biladi.livejournal.com]

He opens his arms without hesitation, holding Damian as his stomach twists in a pained knot. Damn, does Egypt feel awful for making him cry. If he had known right off the bat the kid sneaking into his room was Razem and not Wayne, he wouldn't have gotten mad. Still startled and flailing, but not mad. Had he known back at the training center just who saved his ass, maybe Egypt's words would have been different then, too.

Egypt's trying to remember how his own mother used to console him when he was upset. The memories are fuzzy at best, difficult to grasp at; it's been too long. A hand at Damian's back, quiet words of comfort at his ear.

He's immediately shaking his head, but reconsiders since it's pretty dark, giving a simple, murmured, "No." Hate Damian? Why would the child even think that? Egypt might be shocked at the revelation... and probably upset with the idea of Damian fighting, but he doesn't hate him.

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Just being in his company's enough to make Damian feel better. In a weird way, it's like being in his father's arms after a particularly rough day (except that Hassan's way too young to be his dad, or so he thinks). Oddly enough, he's not mad at Hassan - he can't be, he's only eleven - and the idolization hasn't waned either.

"Good," Damian whispers back, managing to sound slightly happier than before as he cuddles closer. "I'm glad I didn't fail you."

So the truth comes out. By being Robin, part of Damian felt like he'd betrayed Hassan and even failed his expectations, simply because of the lies he'd woven to throw his ahki off-track. Gently, he takes off his gloves and attempts to intertwine his finger's with Hassan's. "... I didn't, right?"

[biladi.livejournal.com]

Trying to maintain eye contact with the boy, Egypt laces their fingers together, squeezing gently. He wouldn't say... fail. He doesn't know what to say. Damian thinks he's a superhero, like the ones in comic books and movies? ...Is a superhero. Egypt hasn't truly seen Robin in action, fighting crime or beating up more than a half-dead grat, and a part of him doesn't want to see that.

"Why this?" He touches a finger to the R emblem on Damian's chest. The Robin costume, the supposed fighting... He has so many questions (that he'll hope for answers for rather than demand), but he'll need to stick to one at a time, whatever comes to mind first.

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Why indeed. Damian struggles to find his voice, but once he does, he speaks with as much strength as he can muster, "Because it's the right thing to do. Because my world's got much more crime than the police can handle." He wants to say 'Because I want to,' but even he knows better than to voice that one aloud.

"... But I can't fight as myself. The people I love would get hurt because of me, and I couldn't handle that."

A much more selfish reason was because the costume was too cool to pass up, but even he couldn't deny that in this context, it wouldn't be the right thing to say. Damian pauses for a second before cautiously letting go of Hassan.

"Ahki? Could you please put some clothes on?"

[biladi.livejournal.com]

He's trying not to frown at the answer he's getting. The right thing to do? Damian's a child. The "right" thing to do would be to keep him out of harm's way, not put him on the front lines! Not even Egypt's crooked police force back home would dare to—

"...Ah." And then he's reminded that yeah, interrogations in only his underwear won't do, even though Damian's a boy, too. "Sorry." He ruffles the kid's hair before standing, rummaging through his closet for the first thing he can find. When he finally clicks on the small light at his bedside, Egypt looks to be wearing at least his cadet pants. He's in the middle of throwing on a shirt, not quick enough to completely hide his marred skin from view.

"You're eleven, Damian." The only kind of fighting he should be doing at that age is in the schoolyard.

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Where did all these scars come from? Damian can't help grimacing, but he shoots Hassan a nod of thanks as he flops onto the bed. "So?" The tone isn't as rude as he means for it to be, so he immediately bites his lip and amends, "I mean, it's not that bad. I can keep up with the older kids just fine."

The other members of his Batfamily are college kids, so he doesn't see the need to retreat from his lifestyle just yet. "And even if I weren't Robin, I'd end up being a superhero anyways. Remember when I asked you about the 99? That's... that's my parents' superhero team."

[biladi.livejournal.com]

Egypt stands at the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush off Damian's shoulders and fiddle with the edges of his hood. He really... doesn't like what he's hearing.

"There's other... 'superhero' kids?" Children combating street crime.

Wait, his parents have a "superhero team"? Damian's parents make him do this? Still trying not to frown; at the moment, he looks vaguely pained. This is a lot to take in, and he isn't comfortable with it.

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"Yeah," Damian nods, deciding to be completely honest. "There's more adults, but there's a lot of teenagers and kids fighting alongside 'em."

Once he sees the look on Egypt's face, Damian quickly amends, "Not on the field! They don't believe in fighting, so they defeat supervillains in court or on the internet or wherever they can... and my folks're mostly too old for that, anyways." (He was telling the truth, kinda: the 99 believed in non-violence, but they usually fought when they had to. Which, by 2043, didn't happen very often.)

[biladi.livejournal.com]

Okay, not as bad as Egypt initially perceived, but still...

"And you?" There's a hand at Damian's cheek again, tilting his face up the slightest bit. Egypt remembers him throwing the batarang, and the way that other Robin was swinging around that crowbar. Do both kids fight in the same manner? The mere thought displeases him.

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Damian knows Hassan won't like the answer, but he promised he'd tell the truth. "... In the field, mostly," He confesses, staring down at his ahki's hand. "Not to the extent that my other self does, though. I'm usually too fast for most criminals to get their hands on me."

And if they try, he's got his batarangs.

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"You use weapons?" The hand at Damian's face moves to run through his hair again. "Guns?" There's a definite sense of worry in his eyes.

Damian claims he can fight, but aside from that brief stunt in the training center, Egypt can't picture it. He doesn't want to — he shouldn't have to.

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Damian immediately contorts his face into a disgusted expression as he jumps back. Him, use guns? Perish the thought! "Ew, no!" He immediately retorts, folding his arms. "Mostly batarangs and my fists. No actual weapons unless the situation calls for it."

[biladi.livejournal.com]

That's... a sort of good answer. Really, there's nothing Damian could say that would put Egypt at ease. Guns, or batarangs, or hand-to-hand combat, or whatever — they're all unacceptable in his eyes. Dangerous.

There's no way a smart kid like Damian would willingly put himself in that kind of danger.

"Who forced you to—"

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"No one."

The answer would probably upset Hassan, but at this point, Damian'd given up on lying. "I wanted to fight because Batman always needs a Robin, just as Neo-Gotham always needs Batman."

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"..." Well, that wasn't expected. Egypt's staring at him incredulously, unable to just get it.

No way. Damian's smarter than that. A young kid putting on a bright costume like this just screams "hit me!" when compared to what little Egypt knows of the Dark Knight. The fictional Dark Knight. None of this should be real.

Then again, look where he's been living the past few months. Giant floating military academy with gunblades and magic and dinosaurs used for target practice. He has little room to judge what should and shouldn't be realistic these days.

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Admittedly, the staring unnerves Damian. He shudders, rubbing his arms, ".... What? You don't believe me?"

Most people here didn't seem to think that vigilantism was a valid career option (or even a valid hobby), that it was just the stories within comic books. But... for him, it was real. Every single moment of it! So why was it so hard for them to grasp?

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"It's just..."

His mouth forms a thin line, perplexed. Yeah, Egypt doesn't believe him. It's more like he doesn't understand it, but he doesn't really want to admit it.

Vigilantism doesn't work in the real world, Damian, and the concept is pretty alien to your ahki. Nations like America and Canada would understand, but not him.

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"You choose the weirdest things to not believe in," Damian grumbles. "You can believe in magic and a floating school and monsters but not superheroes.... slag, what's wrong with your world?"

Perhaps Damian's anger is a little unjustified, but in his mind, it makes perfect sense: he wouldn't let just anyone in on his secret, so having ahki know... and having a reaction like that? Isn't exactly something he wanted.

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"My world's sane." The one they're living in right now? Isn't. Magic exists at home, though in different forms... so that's one thing that doesn't bother him as much as the monsters.

Egypt sits down beside Damian, running a hand through the younger one's hair again. "We don't endanger children." The sane nations don't. He won't get into the complications, but overall, no, this isn't something people do.

Having Damian confess to dressing up and putting his life on the line when he shouldn't be isn't something Egypt wanted, either.