concoursec | Father father please believe me (closed)

Entry tags:

Father father please believe me (closed)

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?"

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"Ah—" He slows in pace and turns, spotting Damian over his shoulder. He nods, both in greeting and to let the kid know he's just fine. Can't see the spot of his arm where the wound used to be, though. Just trust your ahki with this one. He's all right.

Damian couldn't help smiling as he bridges the gap between them. It's rare for Damian to smile, especially like he does to Hassan, but he can't help it. "Glad I caught you. Wanna go to the library with me?"

There might be an ulterior motive, but it's not obvious from the question. "Or well... I have something to ask you, so can we head to your room first?"

Unaware of said ulterior motive, Egypt nods again. Yeah, sure. He didn't have any other plans for today, so a trip to the library wouldn't hurt. And Damian can always talk to him. Hopefully these more recent talks will hold less tension and conflicting views...

He holds out a hand, palm facing downwards, expecting (perhaps over-assuming) Damian to take it easily.

Damian stares at the hand for a moment, trying to figure out what Hassan could possibly want with it. It takes him a while, but he eventually grimaces, "Not in public. Too many people'll see."

So, of course, he does the polite thing and starts to head towards Egypt's dorm. "... Later, okay?"

There's a raised bow in response. Does familial affection bother you, Damian? Egypt has to remind himself the kid (as well as nearly everyone at Garden) didn't grow up in the same environment that he did.

Well. Okay. He shrugs and starts walking again, too.

It only bothers him at Garden! Had they been in his home world (or Hassan's), Damian wouldn't have cared--but here, he could run into his friends. And he had a reputation to keep.

Once they reach Hassan's door, Damian doesn't wait for Hassan to get the key; instead, he picks the lock himself and opens it eagerly. "I really want the baklava," Damian cheekily grins as a way of apologizing, "Is it still good?"

If your friends are worth keeping, Damian, then you don't have to worry about your reputaion.

Egypt stops and watches him pick the lock, eyebrow raised again without saying a thing. A... useful skill, that, but he's not used to seeing these Robin-isms. Not yet. It's gonna take a long time to get used to, but at least he isn't chiding Damian for the pseudo break-in. He'll let it slide.

"Almost gone..." Whatever's left, Damian can have it. Egypt starts making some tea right away, leaving the kid to do whatever he wanted in the tiny kitchinette area. Hmm, Gakupo isn't in right now. Probably busy doing GFC things or something.

At least there was some left! Damian pumps his fist, eagerly heading towards the fridge and pulling the baklava out for them to share. Grabbing some plates, he then spoons two helpings and props himself on the nearest chair.

"Thanks," Damian says, waiting for Hassan before tilting his head to the side. "Hey... about that visit? I've got a couple of questions, if you're okay with 'em."

"...?" That visit. Egypt has a good idea of what Damian is talking about. It's a good thing after all that his roommate isn't around. Shame that he'll miss out on the rest of the baklava, though.

Pulling up the second chair with his foot, Egypt sets two cups of hot tea on the table before sitting down. No apprehension (yet), no noises of disagreement. Ask away.

"I know you're not human."

Best to get that one out of the way. Damian's shaking a little - the baklava's helping, admittedly - but he presses on, "So why'd you lie to me, ahki? Do you have people who'd be after you?" The 'too' at the end of his sentence was implied, but it'd been bothering him ever since those three days.

"..." Egypt holds his cup of tea, letting it warm his hands as he watches Damian's face. All right, so looking like a teenager in the 16th century was a dead giveaway to not being human.

"...We don't tell everyone." We. Implying it's not just Egypt that's like this. At this point... Damian will probably end up being one of the few people Egypt will tell, here at Garden.

Picking up immediately on the shift in tense, Damian stopped mid-bite and blinked before hastily swallowing some more dessert. "We? You're not the only one in your world who's like that...?"

Come to think of it, Hassan's friend, that Herakles guy, looked like a little kid while they were in the Ottoman Empire. Was that a coincidence?

He shakes his head, a slow, simple action. "Lot of us." Herakles would just be one of many, but Egypt will leave that reveal to his friend, if he so wishes.

Damian is asking about himself, and so, for now, Egypt will stick to talking about that.

While Damian doesn't like that answer, he'll let it slide for now. He thinks for a moment, trying to find his words.

"You're not a metahuman, right? Someone with superpowers? So are you like.. an elf or someone with a ridiculously long lifespan?"

Egypt takes a sip of his tea before answering. He's honest, face and eyes clear, shoulders no longer carrying that faint trace of tension when Damian first started the conversation. The elf comment gets a quiet chuckle, too. Nope, Damian, he's something cooler than that. "Not a human. ...A country."

He's received various reactions from close friends and confidantes in the past. With how long he's been alive, Egypt has seen a wide variety of reactions. He watches Damian intently and repeats his true name in an attempt to drive the concept home. Some languages, of course, don't come as naturally as others.

"Ǧumhūriyyat Miṣr al-ʿArabiyyah. Égyptos. Īyipt. Āijí."

If it had been anyone else, Damian's immediate reaction might've been something of complete disbelief. Who the hell was he trying to kid? His ahki's a slagging country? After a moment of surprise - betrayed only by his jaw dropping - he hastily inhales another baklava to give himself a moment to think.

"... So you're the human form of a country. And there's one for every country on Earth?"

Not bad, Damian. Not bad. No major verbal freaking out. Egypt smiles the faintest bit and nods. "Mostly."

It's not as clear-cut as that, one form per country, but that's the general idea. We'll take this one step at a time, address areas of confusion should the child ever come to them.

Truth's always stranger than fiction. Damian concentrates on eating, mostly so that he doesn't have to think of the ramifications of him befriending a freaking country, so he holds back on saying something for the time being.

"And here I thought you were from another planet," He quips, shaking his head. "Y'Allah..."

Damian pauses, then quickly amending, "... Does this mean I have to call you Baba now?

Egypt stops mid-drink, eyes widening somewhat in response. He stares at Damian for a moment, sets down the cup of tea, dumbfounded and at a loss for proper words.

...Baba. That hits something in his chest, warming, yet sharp like the prick of a pin.

Damian stares back quizzically in-between bites of sweet pastry. Had he said something wrong?

"I mean, you're too old to be my ahki, if you're slagging Egypt, so you've gotta be Baba. You don't mind, right?"

No, he doesn't mind — far from it, actually. None of the children he knows back home call him baba. Years and years ago, he looked too young for the title. He doesn't have actual children of his own, and no matter how much he longs for them, Egypt knows what it means for a nation to be succeeded like that...

He won't have any children of his own for a very, very long time. To have someone call him father without the bittersweet implications would make him very happy.

Egypt leans forward, reaching across the table to ruffle Damian's hair. It's a very gentle, very affectionate gesture, fleeting as he finds his voice. "...Only if y'want to."

Setting aside his food (or whatever little there was of it), Damian leans forward to let Egypt ruffle his hair. It feels... nice. He hasn't had something like that in a very long time. Not since Neo-Gotham and home and Mom and Dad.

Without hesitation, he scoots closer to Egypt and actually sits down in his lap. "I definitely want to," He nods, wrapping an arm around his baba. "You're practically my old man anyways."

Tea pretty unimportant now by comparison, Egypt leaves the cooling cup on the table and gathers Damian up in his arms, holding on tightly for a long time before loosening the embrace.

When he pulls back, he's smiling. Not one of those awkward, plastic ones that happen when people ask him to smile, or even those small, vague upturns on his good days. It's a genuine, wide, up to his eyes smile.

Egypt knows he isn't, and can't be, Damian's real father. He knows. Would it be selfish of him to pretend, just here in this world? This is more than good enough. He'll take it.

The minute he sees Hassan's smile, Damian can't help mimicking it. Jeez, he hadn't seen his ahki---no, baba smile like that in a very long time. Or ever, now that he thought about it.

Snuggling close against Hassan's chest, Damian laughs softly. "You should smile like that more often. It looks nice."

Egypt laughs, too, a quiet shake of his shoulders, still more subdued than his smile. "Maybe." Highly unlikely, but Damian will at least have the privilege of getting these rare smiles that other students at Garden will probably never see.

He just holds Damian close, extremely grateful for the contact and affection. All right, this might be the best reaction to the country reveal ever. Or at least this century.

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