[His door is cracked open, and Jason is sitting at his desk but with the chair turned to face the door, leaning his elbows against his knees as he waits. The rest of the room is fairly unremarkable. It could be any anonymous studio apartment in the world, clean but empty, as the things that would normally clutter the place weapons and food/food containers aren't around. Instead there are books, mostly non-fiction or having to do with war and notebooks, most of those still empty as well.
Jason waits until Patrick shuts the door.]
I lied to you. I don't give a shit about the year I was brain damaged. [Simple and matter-of-fact.] There's something else I want to do and I need you to understand that I'm not fucking around here, here, I thought it over, and I'll do whatever's necessary to get it.
[Patrick listens quietly and waits until Jason's done to make any sort of comment, posture and expression decidedly neutral through the admission and the elaboration. He wasn't going to pass judgment until the kid had explained himself, and while he had a feeling he wasn't going to like the idea on principle - and he was a guy who stuck to his principles - he was willing to hear him out.
And who knew. Maybe he did have a good reason for whatever this was.]
The four years I was with Bruce they're fucking me up. [This isn't anything he wants to share with anyone, even someone who already knows the basics, but he forces himself through it.] As long as he's here, I'm not I can't
... [Jason grimaces and rubs his thumb over the bruise on his knuckle.] Look, you're never gonna convince me I'm wrong. But maybe maybe if I forgot Bruce, then you'd have a chance. Everything I am right now, I can't give up because I can't untangle it from him. If I could just forget, I'd have no reason to hang on so hard.
And yeah, I know I'm supposed to work through this shit on my own. I know. But how long do you want to be here? That's assuming you won't just leave once you're fed up, like half the wardens in this place. I can wait for my memories to fade and my hn. Feelings. To change. Months. Years. Maybe never. Or I can try this, and take all the precautions I can to prevent people from fucking with me.
First of all? I'm gonna be here as long as it takes, alright? So don't do this because you'ah worried I'm gonna head back to Boston and get you stuck with some new guy who says he's gonna try and help. I'm not goin' anywhere.
What makes the memories so hahd to have? And what if you decide you want 'em right back after you do it? We can't just go back and forth fuckin' around in your head.
I wrote myself notes. [He jerks his shoulder at some paper lying on his desk, but doesn't move to offer them to Patrick.] It doesn't matter if I know who Bruce is and what happened, what matters is that I forget how I felt.
Because maybe it doesn't say it outright in the file, but I didn't really have friends. I had Bruce. I had Batman and Robin, that was all I lived for. [And then he wanted to kill Bruce, and then he wanted to make Bruce choose, but he can't go over that, it was too recent.] I can't do that anymore. There has to be something else, but I can't get the fuck away from him.
And, okay, it's nice that you're saying that you'll stay? But shit happens. People leave. I don't take it personally, it's just what happens.
[Patrick's still not exactly sure how he feels about all this - because part of it feels really wrong, to just delete chunks of your life to maybe make things easier, while the other part is saying maybe this is a good thing, or at least something that can be tried - so he focuses instead on asking for more details about the specific plan his inmate had come up with.
It's not exactly Jack Doyle condoning and carrying out kidnap, but it's far from a completely clear thing to make a judgment call on.]
Three levels of increasing detail. The first is just the basics, the second contains enough information to keep others from manipulating me, and the third has some significant events.
[He can tell Patrick isn't entirely on board with this, and that's pretty much what he expected.]
Everyone has something they'd like to forget. Something that happened to them that scarred them irrevocably, that dictates how they behave today. Usually, nothing can change that but time. Here, it's different. You can actually do something about it. That's exactly what you're here to do: change me. Doing this won't fix me, you'll still have plenty of work to do, but I'm stuck, Patrick, I'm not going to get past my own fucking dad killing me.
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Jason waits until Patrick shuts the door.]
I lied to you. I don't give a shit about the year I was brain damaged. [Simple and matter-of-fact.] There's something else I want to do and I need you to understand that I'm not fucking around here, here, I thought it over, and I'll do whatever's necessary to get it.
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And who knew. Maybe he did have a good reason for whatever this was.]
Okay. What is it?
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... [Jason grimaces and rubs his thumb over the bruise on his knuckle.] Look, you're never gonna convince me I'm wrong. But maybe maybe if I forgot Bruce, then you'd have a chance. Everything I am right now, I can't give up because I can't untangle it from him. If I could just forget, I'd have no reason to hang on so hard.
And yeah, I know I'm supposed to work through this shit on my own. I know. But how long do you want to be here? That's assuming you won't just leave once you're fed up, like half the wardens in this place. I can wait for my memories to fade and my hn. Feelings. To change. Months. Years. Maybe never. Or I can try this, and take all the precautions I can to prevent people from fucking with me.
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What makes the memories so hahd to have? And what if you decide you want 'em right back after you do it? We can't just go back and forth fuckin' around in your head.
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Because maybe it doesn't say it outright in the file, but I didn't really have friends. I had Bruce. I had Batman and Robin, that was all I lived for. [And then he wanted to kill Bruce, and then he wanted to make Bruce choose, but he can't go over that, it was too recent.] I can't do that anymore. There has to be something else, but I can't get the fuck away from him.
And, okay, it's nice that you're saying that you'll stay? But shit happens. People leave. I don't take it personally, it's just what happens.
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[Patrick's still not exactly sure how he feels about all this - because part of it feels really wrong, to just delete chunks of your life to maybe make things easier, while the other part is saying maybe this is a good thing, or at least something that can be tried - so he focuses instead on asking for more details about the specific plan his inmate had come up with.
It's not exactly Jack Doyle condoning and carrying out kidnap, but it's far from a completely clear thing to make a judgment call on.]
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[He can tell Patrick isn't entirely on board with this, and that's pretty much what he expected.]
Everyone has something they'd like to forget. Something that happened to them that scarred them irrevocably, that dictates how they behave today. Usually, nothing can change that but time. Here, it's different. You can actually do something about it. That's exactly what you're here to do: change me. Doing this won't fix me, you'll still have plenty of work to do, but I'm stuck, Patrick, I'm not going to get past my own fucking dad killing me.
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[He lets out a slow sigh, still mulling it over. It's the last part that hits him - obviously - but he's still reluctant to just blindly agree.]
You talk to anyone who can do the job yet?
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Another warden said he'd be willing to discuss it with you.
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[Yeah, he knows that doesn't sound good, but he just stares at Patrick unblinkingly, a bit cat-like in its transparent willing him to feed him agree.]
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Thank you.
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