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She put a chip in my brain and made me try to kill my brother.

[whoah he actually said it. well, it has more of an effect saying it like that, which is why he did. and because dick isn't around to hear it and get a swelled head over it.]

The first person to actually care about me outside of what I could do for them. She made me try to kill him with my own two hands. Because I chose him over her.

Edited 2014-12-09 06:13 (UTC)

... Wow. *Shock. Solemnity. Danny understands at least some of what Damian described, as well as the magnitude of him having brought it up at all.*

Um.

Your mom's kind of a huge jerk.

Just--just for the record, and all.

Edited 2014-12-09 06:28 (UTC)

[and damian actually laughs at danny's comment, though it's a soft and somewhat reserved laugh nonetheless.

perhaps even a bit bitter.]

She threatened to replace me with a clone of myself after, as well. She's my mother, she's supposed to love me. So if she can still do something like that, imagine what complete strangers are capable of.

[and oh hey look, it wasn't as much of a subject change as danny might have believed.]

*Danny drops his gaze, expression shutting down. The moment is brief: horror, and 'if we cut off your hands now, do you think you'd wake up with them next week? don't have enough time to really get off the ground, and he's tapping into the Danny Fenton side of himself. It's a tell in its own right: 'Danny Fenton' is the crutch that doesn't have to worry about ghost fighting. Danny Fenton has the freedom to stop caring about his latest traumas, because if he starts caring he'll go insane.*

*Damian is trying to go against this game. He's demanding to see a wound that Danny's managed to hide so far, and Danny can't tell if he's hysterically pleased that someone recognizes something is very, very wrong, or terrified that he might actually talk about it. Czes was right: Danny wants to talk. He's equally right that Danny can't tell anyone if he wants to keep them safe.*

*Danny leaves heavily into his mental shield, swinging guilt and regret over one shoulder like grocery bags. Damian just confided this in him. Danny will confide back in him some other day, and he'll tell him even more to make up for his lies now.*

Dude...

I'm--really sorry about your mom, but--don't you think that was kind of the point I was making all along?

The technicians are strangers, and they've never really cared about us.

I don't need apologies about my mother, I've lived with her this long already. [blunt and dismissive. what good would apologies do him anyway?]

I might have even been as bad as her once, or did you forget that I used to be an assassin? You're foolish if you think that the only cruel people here are our captors, and I don't actually believe you're that foolish.

Besides, I tend to stop regarding people who kill me as strangers, don't you?

... Not really.

*Some of that guilt fades. Robin doesn't need or want his sympathy anyway, like one of his friends from home might have.*

If you don't know them, and you don't know their names, then that's kind of what a stranger is.

Do you honestly think that I would let anyone who killed me remain in the dark for long?

*Danny's eyes widen, and for a split moment of clarity he's seeing--something. Not Damian, but a piece that he is in a larger picture. Danny speaks slowly.* No...

... Not unless you had no choice, like we don't have now.

There are always choices.

[damian rolls his eyes, though not before he notices danny's own reaction. his mouth thins as he considers how much more stubborn danny is going to be now.]
.
Some are just harder to make than others. [his head tilts slowly to one side, taking on the image of a curious bird for a moment, which is the closes that damian has managed to figure out how to appear benign.]

If you were worried about the food sources being poisoned, why didn't you make some kind of announcement over the network?

Um. I. Didn't want to cause a panic, and--by the time I'd, uh, asked around enough, I figured it probably just wasn't necessary.

It sounds like it was a one-time fluke.

[damian stares quietly at danny and wonders if the other boy really doesn't understand that damian can tell he's lying. he shakes his head with a sharp exhalation and pulls out his phone to quickly send off a text, brow furrowed.

then glances between danny and the phone thoughtfully before coming to a decision.]

I'm going to give you my personal number. And my name. [he tells danny, like he hasn't just entirely changed the subject again. he's getting nowhere this way anyway.]

... Wait. Really? Like--*Danny produces his (latest) phone, thumb slowing before it can actually activate the screen.* Your real one?

*The cellphone lowers a notch.* ... Why?

I mean, not that I don't appreciate the gesture and everything, but--I haven't exactly done a lot to earn it...

Edited 2014-12-10 06:06 (UTC)

[bemusedly.] I only have the one.

[not strictly true, but he'd left his mother's name behind awhile ago.]

I know you're not going to abuse the information. You're incredibly easy to read, after all. [subtle jab here. did you notice it danny?]

Edited 2014-12-10 06:09 (UTC)

Hah. Usually when people tell me that, it's a bad thing.

*Danny lied to him, pestered him, called him kid, and won't even warn him about Czes. He's not being a very good friend today, is he?*

For what it's worth, though, you're right. I won't tell anyone, if you tell me.

[it's not like damian has a good idea of what a friend is supposed to be like anyway.]

It's not necessarily a good thing, but it helps in this one instance, I guess. My name is Damian Wayne. [he rattles off the number to his personal number.]

*There's a brief, odd hesitance, before he's keying his phone on and punching the number in.*

Damian. Uh--you probably already knew mine, but I'm Danny Fenton.

[bemusedly. which of the two of you has less experience with the whole friend thing here?] I do.

[then suddenly serious.] I also know that you're still keeping something from me about what happened to you. I just can't figure out why. It's not embarrassment, is it fear? You know I can help you with that, right?

Edited 2014-12-10 07:02 (UTC)

*The little smile disappears like a light.*

Okay, seriously, can you give it a rest?*He pockets the phone.*

I know you're worried, but even if we did know who did it, there's nothing you could do about it.

[flat stare. tipping his head back slightly to meet danny's eyes head on.]

Of course there's something I could do, if you would just tell me what it was you were worried about. If it's getting poisoned again, I can check your food for you, I know poisons as well as any assassin.

You do?

I mean--You can check for poisons, you know how to do that?

Edited 2014-12-10 13:02 (UTC)

[a slight scoff] Of course I do. It was part of my lessons growing up.

...

...

Can you teach me, or anyone else?

[one raised eyebrow, coming right up.]

Depending on the relative learning ability of whoever I'm teaching, yes.

Well I'm not a genius like my sister is, but I'm not an idiot, either.

How long does it take to learn that stuff?

[well well, poison does seem to be high in danny's interests right now. damian can assume that the poison part of danny's story was true at least.

and he seems to be concerned that it will happen again...?]

It depends. On the range of poisons, how strong your sense of taste and smell is. And what sort of foods you typically use. Processed and prepared meals are dangerous, especially meals with many conflicting flavors, or too many parts.

A passing knowledge of chemistry can't hurt either.

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