batmanschmatman | 062 [voice]

[Whereas in contrast, Dick is way more edgy and paranoid than usual - even for Renegade - and quickly closes the door behind him. He manages a sort of apologetic, frustrated smile.]

"Sorry." [He has nooo idea how to begin explaining, so he'll just go with:] "Are you okay?"

[Costigan's smile slips away as he notices the strangeness of his warden. He has one of the better ones here, but it's still pretty obvious that the guy's not quite himself.]

"Yes, sir." [A beat.] "Are you?"

"No." [He ran a hand through his hair, trying to articulate his thoughts and coming up a little short.] "This isn't my Barge. I'm not- I'm not trying to corrupt you."

[That gets a long stare, because Dick is clearly not joking, but Costigan can't really understand what he's saying either.]

[Finally..] "Is this a test?"

Edited 2011-08-19 05:09 (UTC)

"No. Something happened - it's not a breach, obviously, but it's not a flood either, and I'm on the wrong Barge. I think a couple other people are too. I'm still your warden where I'm from, but it's not... it's not like this place."

[It was hugely important to him that he actually believed him, because as of right now, he knew he was stuck in some horrific reality altering event where Tim was a psychotic Batman, he was a murderer and he was here to fuck over Costigan, and as irrational as it might have been, he wanted to fix it.] "Please believe me."

[There was another pause. This one wasn't quite so long, but it was still clearly defined.]

"'The wrong Barge,' sir?" [Costigan's voice was a little bit more hesitant than he might have liked, trying to force the skepticism from his tone. Dick's plea to be believed only made that harder. Looking at Dick, it was hard not to believe the guy, but it still made no sense.]

"Don't-" ["Call me that" was cut off before he could say it. He was dumping a lot on him, and he didn't need to add that to his list of things that were undoubtedly new and weird to hear. He considered for a long moment how best to answer.]

"Where I'm from, I'm still your warden. But I'm there to save you, not break you. Wardens are there to help inmates get redeemed, not to corrupt them." [That felt like it needed elaboration.] "But you're not a bad person. You never were, you've just had a really... terrible life. You're one of the only people I trust to always have my back, and I'd like to think you've realized I'll always have yours, too."

[He was being completely honest. One of the reasons he'd approached Costigan and been honest with him was because of that implicit trust, not just because of his obligation as his warden.]

[Costigan continued to stare. The inmate shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms in a gesture that was slightly more familiar. He was in a t-shirt for once, arms free of scars, and without a Boston cap; with a little more facial hair and a greater sense of openness and sincerity in general. Even still, this was a lot to take in.]

"My life hasn't been terrible, guy. My ma gave me whatever I needed and my dad was good people. I don't exactly know what you think I need to 'redeem' about myself.. I didn't think I'd really done anything wrong-- short of maybe killing that Costello asshole."

[Dick had been about to launch into a full scale explanation for what was happening - or, theory, anyway - but stopped as soon as Costigan mentioned killing Costello. A sort of surprised, small smile cut through the anxiety and tension in his face.]

"Really?" [He might advocate not killing, but if Costigan was a still cop and had taken down the guy who had effectively ruined his life in the universe Dick was used to, he could get behind that.]

[Costigan's frown deepened when his warden seemed completely out of touch. The former cop shifted and then offered a gentle smile after a beat, something generally unfamiliar to the other Costigan.] "Maybe we should get you to the infirmary, guy."

[Considering what Martha's counterpart was like, Dick really didn't like that idea. He shook his head.]

"No. I'm okay." [A beat.] "Look, what do you know about me? My counterpart, I mean. Your warden."

[There were so many descriptors of what Costigan thought was the same guy that it took him a moment to get back to realizing the actual question. He gave a light shrug, but began to freely divulge pretty much everything he could think of about his warden, about his general manner and habits, about their history. He didn't mind talking about the other man and he would continue giving away details -- though nothing enormously private or personal -- until Dick stopped him.]

[Hearing and watching Costigan talk about his counterpart - who was frighteningly parallel to his own life, apparently, from what he'd researched and what his inmate was saying - was easily one of the most surreal experiences Dick had ever had, and it was hard to keep the uncertainty off of his face.

It was breaking his heart a little, really, to see the person Costigan could have been - who was apparently happy, so much more open and trusting, who hadn't had his life fall apart around him - and know no matter what he did, he was stuck here. Even if this wasn't an alternate universe, he couldn't just pull him back with him, and his Costigan had been hurt too badly to ever be this relaxed and happy. This was a road not taken, and there was no way to ever totally repair the damage.

At a natural break in Costigan's flood of information, he finally spoke, looking the faintest bit shellshocked.]

"Wow."

Edited 2011-08-19 23:12 (UTC)

[Costigan had continued past the basics and into some anecdotes before Dick finally stopped him, which was alright with him. He trusted his warden, even if the guy was a bit off his rocker right now. When Dick replied with shock, however, the former cop frowned again and actually reached forward to press his hand to the other guy's forehead to check for a fever.]

"What's going on with you?"

[He almost, almost flinched away from the gesture, but the continuing shock kept him rooted in place. Dick, in general, was a tactile person who had been conditioned to not expect a lot of physical affection from people he was close to, and Costigan had definitely been grouped with people like Bruce and Tim as unlikely to initiate and unlikely to enjoy something like a hug.

So, he stayed still and didn't protest or shy away from him.]

"I don't think I have a fever, Bill."

[Costigan dropped his hand as soon as he felt Dick free of a fever, still staring at the man as if he might be completely delusional. The inmate wanted to trust him, despite his being abnormal, but it was a strange thing.]

"You don't." [A beat.] "What do you know about me? If you're my warden there and I need whatever you called it.. 'redemption.' What am I like there?"

[Costigan had been honest with him about his counterpart. Might as well return the favor.] "You were an undercover working with the Boston State Police to take down Costello. There was a rat in the unit, and he basically erased your file when you helped take down Costello and figured out he was the rat, and when you tried to bring him in, you were killed."

"You're not a bad person. Honestly, I don't really think you deserve to be an inmate, although admittedly, it's better that you've got a second chance than just... being dead." [Not to mention he might not have met him, and after having worked with him for almost nine months, the idea of him just not being around was just weird.]

"The job was hard on him. You. And that's basically what you're there for. But you're not a bad person." [He was being entirely honest. If it wasn't for the paranoia and occasional moments of violence and anger, he'd say Costigan was basically all set.]

[He listened silently, his face uncharacteristically revealing pretty much every emotion he felt as he felt it. Skepticism, surprise, discomfort, sadness. At the end, still frowning, he shook his head as if to dismiss the idea of such a horrible life. That wasn't him.]

"What do you want from me?" [Costigan asked finally, with a tone suggesting an insinuation of 'why me' rather than 'how can I help.']

[Something twisted unpleasantly in his chest as he watched Costigan's reaction, and immediately, he wished he hadn't said anything. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of how to answer that.] "I don't... I don't know." [He really didn't, and he sort of felt like a monster for coming here and telling him about his counterpart. All the uncertainty was displayed on his face as he struggled to think of the right words to say.]

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. You're my partner, we try to work together, back where I'm from. I care about you. And you're the only person I can trust."

[He trailed off, struggling to find something else to say. Perhaps impulsively, because he was overwhelmed and upset and struggling to deal with everything he was being presented with, he closed the distance between them and hugged his inmate tightly.] "I'm sorry."

[He was apologizing for a lot of things, but mostly, for giving him information about his counterpart and the fact that he was stuck here in the first place. No version of Costigan deserved to be in a place designed to destroy him, to send him over the edge and never look back.]

[Costigan wrapped his arms firmly around Dick to return the hug, giving him a few pats on the back. He didn't blame the guy for telling him anything and he felt separated enough from the other version of himself, who may or may not exist, to really pity the guy. Some idle part of the back of his mind felt that what he was being forced to do here was to become the man that Dick described and it was only that thought which made him withdraw from the hug.

There was a silence that stretched between them for some time as Costigan thought of how he wanted to respond and what choice he wanted to make, because this was a choice.]

"You can still trust me." [He replied at last.] "What do we do?"

[He pressed his face against Costigan's shoulder briefly, trying to ignore the burning sensation in his eyes and throat, fighting back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. He appreciated the reciprocation of the gesture more than he could ever articulate, and pulled away as Costigan did.

He waited, not wanting to push him, expression as controlled and neutral as he could manage. But, at his answer, relief flooded through him and he smiled gratefully.]

"I don't know." [But he was working on it.] "The other wardens can't know I'm different, especially not-" [How hard was this to say? He hated this flood.] "Tim."

[He thought for a second or so, before he brought up the idea that had been flickering around the back of his mind.] "How do you feel about knock out gas?"

[Costigan nodded about no one knowing, already having thought that. Even if his warden was actually crazy and not from another Barge, he was good people and the inmate didn't want to expose him to the wrath of the other wardens. But the former cop genuinely believed the man and was willing to risk whatever it took to help him.] "Yeah, sure. Of course."

[About the knockout gas, he shrugged a little.] "It's better than violence, sure, but you think it'll work here?"

[Honestly, he wasn't sure. Really, anything he was considering would be risky, and probably wasn't going to work, but he couldn't just sit around waiting for it to be over.] "It'll work, I'm just not sure how to handle the aftermath. It'll at least buy us some time."

"If I could get to the Bridge, I might be able to figure out a way to reverse the affects. Or at least, I don't know, figure out a way to get you and the other inmates out of here." [Really, that would be good enough for him. He'd started pacing a little, trying to come up with a better solution.]

[Costigan nodded in agreement about it buying them time and the opportunity to do more or something else, but then he frowned again. The inmate shifted and crossed his arms in thought.]

"No one knows how to get to the bridge, sir." [He replied, watching his warden pace. Then, as an afterthought, he offered.] "You could try the engine room? It might have something."

[Technically, Jim knew, but he wasn't sure if he was affected or not, and even if he was, involving too many people would get risky. He perked up slightly at the suggestion, immediately thinking of how to use that information and make it work.]

"Who's in charge of it, here?"

[Costigan looked lost for a moment, then lifted both hands and shoulders in defeat.] "I don't know, guy. I knew who used to be in charge of it, but he's gone. I don't know who took over."

062 [voice]

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