[that's good, he would've hated for his gawking to make dick uncomfortable; the fact he stays still rather than make some restless motion tells sizhui he's either being polite or he doesn't mind. regardless of whichever one it is, he appreciates either way.
just like how he's grateful dick looks down when he does since he's peeking up, trying to see if he can gauge a reaction in the man, make certain he hasn't overstepped any boundaries or revealed information jason might not approve. does it genuinely matter when the other boy isn't even here at the moment? would dick honest to god try and find some way to ask him about it? he glances away again, toward the succulents scattered across the nearby windowsill, pouring every ounce of willpower he has into staring at those.
yet dick's question draws his attention anyhow, has him turning back, an eyebrow of his own lifting with consideration. should he agree? it's the truth, there's no doubting that and he's never been the best liar, but what ifā?] You're right. [well, alrighty then, guess they're doing this.] He'sā Jason is the only person I really know right now.
I'm still settling into my job, my home... [his gaze falters momentarily, lips rolling before he gathers himself.] It's lonely, but that isn't his fault.
[ Oh no. He hadn't meant this as a way of talking about such subjects, to bring up something that's obviously uncomfortable for Sizhui, who's avoiding his eyes like the plague right now. Dick's breath sifts out in a soft sigh. ]
It's not your fault, either. Jason's the only person you know. [ Wow, think about that. Jason Todd, the only person in your life. He manages a smile. ] It's a new environment. It's not surprising that you feel alone. [ His chest tugs. ] But you know me, now, as well. [ What was it that Rachel said? Can't resist a stray? A bird with a broken wing? ]
I'll try not to blame myself. [uncomfortable or not, he can readily admit he should put himself out there more, find some common interests with his customers, perhaps sincerely attempt befriending other people. that's difficult when so many of them, even after months now, still give him the odd glance or two. the regulars aren't as bad though, thankfully.
being fair, dick is technically right in this situation, too. sizhui straightens and rises to his feet all in one graceful motion, outright grinning while he bridges what distance is between them, an arm outstretched for a more proper greeting; the simple handshake seems harmless enough.] Since we've met properly, I guess an actual introduction is due, hm? My name is Lan Sizhui, though just āSizhuiā is alright. [he shrugs sheepishly, smile broadening.] Old habits die hard.
[ Something in those words sounds like theyāre said just to say Sizhuiās said them, hears Dickās bit of comfort without listening much. Itās a process, he can understand that. Everyone needs a bit of time, especially when itās a different time. Arenāt they all too hard on themselves?
His smile tugs wider with the slight cant of his head. Dickās too used to minding the every point and set of his body, of othersā bodies, and he canāt help but notice a fluidity to the way Sizhui lifts out of the daybed and reaches out. Hm. A fluidity thatās effortless and graceful and speaks volumes about Sizhuiās awareness of his own body. A fluidity that hints at training.
His gaze puzzles for a veiled second as he reaches out and takes the hand in a firm, supportive grip. ]
Sizhui. Good to finally meet you. Dick Grayson. Iām sure Jasonās told youālots. [ A weight to that last word, tugged by guilt. ] But Iām glad Iām meeting you with no pretense.
[if there's any moment in time where dick thinks he's unobservant, he needs to think again. of course sizhui said it just to say it and maybe his smile is genuine, but he does blame himself a little bit. some of the people he's seen at work seem friendly enough and there's a pet store down the way where he could go visit cute animalsā oh! now there's an idea he could try one day.
goodness, sizhui's practically beaming by the time dick accepts the gesture and takes his hand, which he closes his fingers around in an equally tight hold. dick's mindfulness in this moment is important because the younger male's hands are soft, but there's a certain sturdiness there that speaks volumes; faint leftover calluses from years of sword-fighting and playing guqin, obviously, though he's discovered the wonders of pumice stones, lotions and other modern world remedies to help. they'll for sure start coming back once the gardening takes.
he doesn't let go or withdraw right away, briefly distracted by dick's comment about what jason's told him.] The same to you. He definitely has, yes, but I have to admit: I'm one of those people who likes to meet someone face-to-face and gauge them in person.
So, I guess I'm saying I'm glad for that, too? [you're starting to sound like jingyi, comes a soft self-scolding then sizhui realizes he should maybe let go, finally loosens his fingers.] And I certainly don't understand what Jason meant when he said, āYeah, Dick's name really fits him because he is one.ā Because you don't seem contemptible at all...
[ a decent day's worth of work behind is behind him and his wallet's a little fatter for it. in the empty elevator, jason licks the pad of his thumb to flip through his day's bread and butter, earbuds in and loud metal raging into his ears, red wire dangling down to the phone in his pocket. he isn't doing bad, but it sure as hell isn't close enough for the shit he's got his eyes on. it's getting him through. buying him time. his arm's still kinda shit, gets weak on him in the worst fucking moments, and sizhui is still -- adjusting.
lucky he's cute.
the landlord loves him, his job is understanding. really shows how far good looks'll get you.
jason wouldn't get shit if their shoes were swapped; even after washing up, jason still feels like a mess. grease stains in ripped jeans and hair fucked up under his hood. jason doesn't need it. he shoves his wallet back into his pocket as the elevator comes to a stop, the doors opening apart for him. new world and all, he'd think sizhui would never get bored, but he doesn't like being left alone. even though there's plenty jason could be filling his time doing, he's slinking out the elevator and down a familiar tight hallway.
all he hears is his own music even as his keys jingle as he slides the key in, opening the door.] Hey babeā
[ ā the words are cut off, punctuated with jason yanking the wire of his earbuds and pulling them quickly out of his ears, body stiff and bristling at the sight of dick grayson. his shoulders are tight, jaw set, but jason stays frozen in the doorway, eyes flickering between sizhui's hand in dick's. between sizhui and dick, lingering longer on dick.] What the fuck are you doing here.
[ Sizhuiās hand is calloused despite how delicate every other part of him looks, and that coupled with the sheer control of his moments does flicker another thought in his mine that gets filed away for later. His own hands are calloused from his night gig, after all, but thatās not as misplaced on someone like him.
Right. Of course Jason would call him a dick and play on the age-old joke of his name to someone he hasnāt even ever met. Of course Jason would talk shit behind his back but really, what was he even expecting. He probably deserves it, after what happened between them. Dick huffs out a wry laugh, shaking his head before lifting a brow. ]
Jasonāsā [ His head whips to the door at the sound of a key in the lock, eyes widening, heart immediately leaping to his tight throat. Heās too shocked to have the mind to pull his hand away from Sizhuiās grip, not that they were doing anything wrong. Just shaking hands. Thatās it.
Except for the fact that he knows sure as hell Jason would hate that heās here.
Silence so thick it could be cut with a knife permeates through the air. So much gets expressed in the tension of Jasonās shoulders, bristling and riled up, spitting words sharp and hot after calling Sizhui babe. He pulls his hand back, drops it to his side as his jaw tightens. ]
Jason. [ In the flesh, looking exactly like heād left him. ] Iām not. [ Leaving, pushing off the counter heās leaning on, all hint of the smile on his mouth tugs off as he looks away from Jason and makes a move to step towards the door. Itās fine, he doesnāt mind. He doesnāt care if it makes him look weak, like heās giving up. Heāll leave. ]
[laughter is the last thing sizhui's expecting after an insult like that. sure, he was simply repeating what jason had told him and, in spite of himself, it does make his own mouth curve at the edges, but it was still rude nevertheless. and wrong from the sounds of it, keeping in mind how nicely their meeting seems to be going. or had been, rather.
noise near the door also draws his attention, makes sizhui snap his attention in that direction, heartbeat jackhammering with the realization: jason's home even before his key slides home and the door swings open.
āhey, babeāā but the abrupt pause steals his breath away, makes him suddenly glad dick can form the coherent thought of letting him go which makes sizhui lower his arm, both of them tucking almost shamefully behind his back. no, they weren't doing anything wrong, that doesn't mean dick being inside the apartment is right in a sense. (it's not wrong either, it just feels like outright disrespect for jason's wishes, even if not explicitly stated.) neverminding the apprehension in his voice,] Jason! Hi, [and before he can lose his nerve (or dick can get too far), sizhui's skittering toward jason, sidling up beside him and looping an arm around his waist to squeeze.
doing this inadvertently(?) crowds the doorway a little more, making it so dick either has to stop or attempt an uncomfy squeeze past them both.] Listen, it's okay, I only invited him inside to talk for a little bit! [you weren't supposed to come home yet, goes unsaid for obvious reasons.
he tightens his arm around jason's midsection, both for his own sake and jason's, doing everything within his power to ignore the higher pitch of his voice. (it might also be for dick's sake too, considering any possibly reckless actions.)] I'm sorry, Iā I probably should've asked, but it was my fault, I insisted. Then we lost track of time andā
[stop, comes a soft voice in his head. so he does, doe-eyed as he frantically glances between them, breath held, the anticipation creeping higher.]
[ he's shocked, sure, what the hellā the last thing he expected was dick in here. the music blaring in his ears went quiet, heart skipping beats and pulse starting to pound in his ears. and like a stray dog with a bone, his knee-jerk reaction is defense. he bristles, stiff from his toes to his shoulders, his mind fills up and spins helplessly full of bullshit. his eyes go from wide to narrow, while his heart goddamn pounds against his chest, sick with thinking what their last talk was.
how it was supposed to be his last talk, period.
his fingers twitch, clenching white-knuckled around the wire of his earbuds, his keys. evaded death, some fucking how, and he'd sure intended to keep evading dick just the same. he wasn't going back, not for anything in the world. all the glamour of robin was dead and buried. titans was a collection of douchebags he wouldn't miss.
dick's a memory of a goddamn nightmare, of windows and floors flashing back, and jason's jaw is clenched tight against his shitty thoughts. for whatever reason, dick doesn't argue. that sinks in dully, sizhui colliding warm against his side as a dim distraction from shit he'd rather forget.
sizhui's voice slowly registers, but even as his head turns slightly towards sizhui, an arm instinctively curling around him, his eyes stay on dick other than a short glance.] Not your fault, Sizhui. [ and he tries to force himself to sound casual, but it comes out terse. he isn't blaming sizhui for shit he doesn't know, that jason didn't tell him, but he couldn't want anything less. wind against his face, the bright lights from the windows of every floor he fell past flashing in his mind, dick's shout drowned out by the noise of the fall ā ]
What the fuck we talking about, guys? [he asks bitter, me? the furious and unasked question. he looks away from dick his fingers tightening in the tangled wire and the soft fabric of sizhui's sweater.] Y'know, me and Dickie have a bit of history, baby.
[ History doesnāt begin to cover what they have between them and Dick canāt help but watch, taken aback by the intimacy of Sizhui tucking into Jasonās side like heās done it a million times, like he fits and belongs there. Dick looks away, feeling even more like heās intruding on something intimate. This place isnāt big enough to contain what he and Jason have between them, the mutual clash of personalities.
Thereās no way Sizhui can hold it back, as much as it seems he thinks he might be able to. Dickās head tips down, eyes lifting again, wary and glowering from beneath furrowed brows. Heāsāworried, afraid, braced for the storm that brews in Jasonās eyes. His arms cross over his chest, taking in the way Jasonās arm wraps possessively-protectively around Sizhuiās shoulders. ]
Itās fine. We donāt have to get into it. I came by toā[ Dick stops in his tracks because Sizhui and Jason are in his way, blocking the door and his way out and because heās not going to mention the reason why he dropped by. ] Iāll leave. If youāll let me. [ He can see the tension wound in Jasonās hand and forces himself to take a steadying breath. ] Thanks, Sizhui. And Jason. [ A beat. ] Happy birthday.
[this was a mistake. not an intentional one, but problematic nonetheless, and it seems to only be going downhill from here. beneath the grip of his arm, he can feel jason tighten, an animal going on the defense like it has been backed into a corner, something that isn't helped by how he's crammed them both into the doorway with his ridiculous clinginess.
sizhui finally lets out the breath he's holding, unable to take it and the almost suffocating tension between the other two people in the room. what does he do now? they have history, jason says, but dick shoots him down, saying they don't need to talk about it, that he can just go. an interpose he latches onto, a diversion while he attempts nudging against jason's side, some gesture of affection he's hoping will help him loosen his taut as a tightwire posture.] Jason, please, it was harmless. [he sounds pathetic, almost like he's begging for it to not be a big deal when it's obviously quite the opposite; their unresolved tension speaks volumes to that.
curious though he is, sizhui's not keen on making dick uncomfortable, particularly after they'd been having a decent conversation, a thing they might be able to continue sometime if this moment ends up salvageable. despite the bewilderment, his attention flickers to dick, head nodding.] You're welcome, [he murmurs, unsure what else he can say at this point, aside from the one lingering question threatening to make him burst if he doesn't ask:] What do you mean by āhistory?ā
[though maybe if he's still pushing up against jason to help move them aside, it'll work for further distraction and dick might get a chance he can takeā unless, of course, it absolutely backfires just like everything else seems to be doing today.]
[ from day one, dick's always handled him like he barely knew what to do with him. robin number two, he gets it. gotta give a guy time to adjust to being replaced. except it's just a million times worse now and jason'd be stupid to think it isn't because dick thought he watched him go splat from a fifty floor fall. maybe that was a little rough, but dick treats him like a snarly stray mutt. don't move too fast. don't look too long. after all the shit jason told him, maybe he finally thinks he's really crazy.
jason didn't expect him in the middle of the goddamn apartment, making besties with sizhui, but he isn't about to throw down in this crowded little apartment, as much as both of them act like he can't control himself. the pleading from sizhui just has his jaw set harder, but sizhui rushes to thank dick anyway. yeah. buddies already.
he doesn't know why he'd ever expect dick to rise to the bait of his bitterness, because dick's as ready as ever to get out of the way of jason's shit.
the disarming note is the way dick tacks on happy birthday. the tension in his jaw going slack. it's never been a big deal and he doesn't care. the most attention it's gotten in his life was the cake alfred made him. he guides sizhui a few steps forward, gently kicking the door shut behind them.] I mean, he's like my big brother.
[explaining is better than screaming what the fuck. maybe jason has dick's birthday in his memory, but it's different.]
[ Big brother, as if the way heās treated Jason could be anything close to what big brother really would be. Dick frowns, gaze sliding off Jasonās face to look at Sizhui, mouth tugging apologetically. Sizhui doesnāt deserve to be in the middle of this, but Jasonās always been adamant to pick a fight.
With him especially.
However, heās not going to be throwing Jason on the floor this time, no matter what. He squares his shoulders, fingers digging into his upper arms where heās crossed them, and shakes his head. No, he didnāt like it when Jason didnāt come home. Of course not.
More bait. More bait that he knows he canāt simply avoid, because Jasonās looking for a reaction and probably wonāt stop until he gets one.
And maybe he deserves one. Fine. Fine. Then if Jasonās so keen on digging up history, if Sizhuiās asking for history, then heāll give it. ]
I knew you werenāt dead. [ Dickās wary gaze looks at Jason, then drifts back to Sizhui, again, wondering just how much he knows. ] I knew when they couldnāt find your body.
[in spite of himself, sizhui lets jason guide him away from the door, even if he shuts it behind them. that surely won't help dick escape any faster, though he figures fighting against jason wouldn't help anything either, so he follows, desperately hoping this might be the out dick needs.
except it isn't, unfortunately. (because of course it can't be that easyā)
widened eyes darting between the two of them, he withdraws his arm for now, lets them both hang helplessly at his sides while he stands there. āhe's like my big brother,ā jason says, ādidn't like me not coming home?ā bump-bump, his heart jackhammers so hard, it actually hurts enough to make sizhui clutch his chest. they're... brothers? something about that doesn't sit quite right but it's not his place to question what's being revealed at the moment.
āi knew you weren't dead.ā he swallows thickly, raises his other hand and clutches jason's forearm. āwhen they couldn't find your body.ā] Thatā that's when you were with me, wasn't it? Jason, [sizhui's voice lowers an octave, hardly a whisper as he clenches his fingers tighter on the other boy's jacket,] w-why would you be dead?
[there are so, so many more questions he has about this, yet that's the most important one which needs answering; why would jason be dead here?]
[ it doesn't occur to him that dick wouldn't say it. he's so damn sure dick's here to fuck it all up, it doesn't even register that he's shooting himself in the foot, gagging for it the way he keeps cornering him verbally. pushing him. 'cause he's beating dick to the punch by forcing it out.
and he still regrets it when it's out there, skin crawling with sizhui against him, hearing the shit jason's kept buried, one of sizhui's hands grasping at him. all of it sends his stomach sinking down to his boots like he's got a case of vertigo. against all the dust it kicks up, shitty memories galore, and almost worse, sizhui's small voice, jason glares somewhere over dick's shoulders, steeling his shoulders stiffly. fighting would be easier. ]
I tripped. Fell. Should have hit the pavement fifteen-stories down. [he expects sizhui to gather from the tone that there was no tripping. he didn't stub his toe and trip off a building to his death. the forced 'casual' edge to his voice is gone.]
[ Maybe Jason shouldāve just punched him in the gut, or stabbed him in the heart. Dickās sure either would be easier to handle then the shit that comes tumbling out of Jasonās mouth. Jasonās always been better with his words, sharper, quicker, seizing the opportunity and flipping things for an upper hand like he never had been able to with his fists with Dick.
His breath stops in his throat, brows furrowing, expression barely held together with a string and he has to turn his face to the side. Because thatā thatās the truth. Right there. He swallows the thick lump that rises up his throat. Quiet, low, he amends: ]
He jumped. I didnāt stop him. [ Sad, tired eyes lift to Sizhui. ] I'm sorry.
[regardless of there being no physical punches thrown, it feels like he's been clotheslined straight across the throat. sizhui's breath comes rushing out all at once, he releases his hold on jason, shifts out from underneath his arm and stumbles backward, both hands dropping to grip the edge of the small coffee table that he drops onto once it hits the back of his knees. damn lucky, he's small enough it doesn't collapse beneath his weight.
i tripped. fell. hit the pavement fifteen stories down. dead, jason would've died if that had happened. jumped. didn't stop him. i'm sorry. did jason trip or did he jump? the way dick had looked at him, like he'd genuinely regretted what'd happenedā he (finally) gasps a sharp, pointed breath, scrubs both hands over his face then drops them to splay across his thighs so he can have some way of holding himself up when he slumps forward.
it's too much all at once, more than he can take; there's a sting in his eyes, a too-familiar burning that makes him immediately prop his elbows on his knees instead and drop his face into his palms. don't cry, don't do it.]
Hold on, Iā I need a m-minute to... to... [but he trails off, inhales shakily, cups his hands against his ears and grasps for the ever-present white ribbon around his forehead, though to no avail since it hadn't crossed his mind today. so, he clutches his hair in lieu of it, tries everything possible to catch his breath.]
[he breathes in a hissing breath when dick just says it, raw hard gaze sticking on dick's face. the apology, the lack of fight, the defeat all over his goddamn face even if dick is looking away. what the fuck.
but then there's sizhui, pulling away and jason's brows knit together and all the fight is out of him like a balloon losing all its air when sizhui drops onto the coffee table. he feels his pulse start to rabbit again, dick's sad puppy face and sizhui bent over himself. sizhui's voice is pinched off, shaky, and sounds a helluva lot like he might cry. jason's throat just gets tighter.
he scrubs a hand over his own face before dropping his arms. he flings his phone and earbuds at the daybed with a frustrated noise.]
It's not a big deal, babeā [ jason tries, starting to fucking pace. ] I'm fine.
[ No. Donāt cry. Dick stands up a little straighter, eyes widening when Sizhui drops to the coffee table and his hands scrub over his face, as his voice shakes and fuck, what are they doing. Him and Jason, as if it was appropriate to be here and fighting in front of someone who he doesnāt know at all.
Itās low. ]
Sorry, Iāllā [ And Jason is putting up a front again. Dick wants to go put a hand on Sizhuiās shoulder but itās not his place. He wants to leave, but Jasonās pacing in what little space there is, and itās a bad idea to get near that orbit right now.
So he sinks back against the counter, head dipped, watching, wary, wound tight. Itās hard to breathe in here, so much more constricted than the airy tower heās used to, so much tension stretched in the small space. He doesnāt elaborate at all and doesnāt say another word. Heāll wait it out. Wait it out and then get out of here. ]
[he isn't crying, everything's fine, it's just... dust in his eyes or some other ridiculous excuse he can use that's not tears because letting himself get overwhelmed? that's silly.
jason didn't deny it, though. sizhui's heart leaps into his throat, attempts to practically suffocate him yet he manages swallowing hard again, forcing down the still-growing urge to cry as he coaxes himself upright. his eyelashes are damp, there's no mistaking that, though he's staunched the waterworks enough to avoid any tearstains on his cheeks. (for now, at least.)
jason's cellular device and headphones hitting the gift he'd left on the sofa draws his attention, the thump an audible reminder. he lifts his eyebrows, gives a soft sniffle, slowly gets to his feet with his attention solely on how jason is pacing.]
It's not fine, it's not, [he pauses momentarily, turns and moves to pick up the gift-wrapped box sitting on the daybed, striding toward jason so he can offer it to him.] But what's worse is that you think Dick doesn't care when he brought you a birthday gift. [another pause, just to catch his breath,] I think that's the opposite thing someone who doesn't care would do.
[ jason's a half second away from pulling at his own hair, kicking something. for whatever goddamn reason, dick's apologizing -- like he's the one that's kept the fucking secret from sizhui. dick stops, stalls there, and jason feels more like a mess than ever having his shit out on display. dick knows all his dirty secrets. and sizhui, his goddamn breath of fresh air, didn't.
he paces the little space, so fucked up and riled, until sizhui is up and jason comes to an abrupt stop, glassy eyes following sizhui. his jaw twitches, tense and tight, and argument is right on the tip of tongue, filling up his chest that it is fine and why the fuck would dick care. sizhui holds out a skinny box, all smooth meticulously wrapped.
and tells him dick brought it for him. a birthday gift.
his heart stops and everything in him knots up, eyes darting to dick again quick and wide. it's so fucking stupid but when he can count his birthday presents on one hand. when he's been nothing but a fucking mess for dick to deal with.] I'm a goddamn curse to him.
[he's fucking poison. shit follows him like a nightmare. his gaze darts from dick back to sizhui, eyes glossy and wet against a grimace of an expression.] Why the fuck would he get me anything?
[ Dread fills him and chokes him up from inside, rising as heās frozen in place, watching as Sizhui passes his present to Jason. Stupidāhe was stupid for thinking it could be a success or a disaster. Stupid for his optimism because itās obviously going to be a disaster. His hands float back to the counter and his fingers slowly curl, steady but tight, over the edge as he grips there. ]
Itās nothing. You know what, [ He wants to ask for it back, but with how everything is unfolding, heās caught in a hard place with nowhere to go. ] You donāt want it, I get it. Here, Iāll take it back. [ He uncurls a hand from its death grip on the counter and holds it back out to Sizhui. ] Jason doesnāt want it. Forget it. [ Heād leave, but if itās true that Jason doesnāt want the gift, it would be a waste to leave here. Too important to him to leave here. ]
[to be fair, sizhui told dick he wouldn't tell jason it was from him and within the blink of an eye, he's broken that promise. with him in the room, no less too, like could he be anymore tactless? perhaps, but if there's one thing he's doing well, it's keeping them all in the same room.
he holds jason's blurry-eyed gaze once they're face-to-face, reaches his unoccupied hand up and gently thumbs away the other boy's tears that are threatening to spill over.] That's not true and you know it, Jason.
[then sizhui's lowering the same hand, taking one of jason's wrists and gently twisting, placing the gift into jason's upturned palm. he closes his fingers around it, directs his attention toward dick, lets his gaze drift down to the outstretched limb he's offering now. with his fingers tight around jason's hand and the gift, he tugs, hoping jason doesn't put up much of a fight while he reaches for dick's forearm, draws them closer together by using himself as the literal middleman.]
Dick... today may be our first day meeting in person but I can say, with confidence, you wouldn't have brought this gift for Jason if you thought he wouldn't want it. [he tentatively glances between them, hoping he hasn't been too presumptuous, praying jason does want the gift.]
[ he scowls when dick immediately threatens to take it back, leveling him a sullen glare that's ready to fight. its cut short when sizhui's brings a hand up to wipe at his eyes, even if jason ducks away from the doting attention. he blinks away the remnants of his frustration, his mouth twisted with protests and arguments crawling up his throat. sizhui doesn't know.
dully, he lets sizhui's fingers wrap around his hand, pressing the gift into his hand and closing his fingers around it, jason watching numbly, gaze stuck on the alleged birthday gift. sizhui wouldn't lie. dick wouldn't be so quick to be hurt, to rescind the gift otherwise. he doesn't know what to think of it. isn't really thinking when he lets sizhui drag him over to dick.
doesn't stop until they're both there. jason sniffs, not looking up from the present in his hand. wonders what dick thinks he wants. wonders why the hell dick even cares. jason hasn't made it easy.
around the knot in his throat and all this bullshit about if he wants it or not, he speaks up.] I want it. You gave it to me, so it's mine.
[it might actually kill him to admit he just plain wants it. he gently shrugs sizhui's hand off of him to pick at the seams of the wrapping paper, still stubbornly not looking up at either of them.]
[ The way his plan falls apart right before his eyes is ridiculous. He had trusted Sizhui to keep it on the downlow and let him leave before giving Jason the gift. Instead, it was pulled out the moment tension breaks out across the room.
There must be some irony to the fact that three fully grown men can be calmed at the sight of a gift. Right. He lets Sizhui tug them close but closes off anyway, crossing his arms again as he drops his gaze to the gift. Stupidāstupid. Jasonās going to hate it, probably attempt to throw it at him so heāll brace himself with a clenched jaw, heartbeat ricketing up as Jason lifts the edges of the wrapping paper.
Beneath is a slick black box. Elegant flush clasps are buckled on one side, sleek hinges on the other. When Jason opens it, heāll see a very recognizable item inside.
Dickās watching warily fingers digging into his upper arms, refusing to look at Jasonās expression and instead, keeping focused on the gift. ] Itāsā [ a collapsible bo staff, shrunken to its shortest length of just a foot. He takes a steadying breath.
He hesitates, then starts: ] It was Robinās. The parts were from the first bo staff. I remade it with Stu with what you left behind. [ Vague, because Sizhuiās here. Itās the original parts to his first bo staff that made him Robin, the first thing Bruce gave him as Robin, the first tactile thing that made him feel like he was in control. The only thing he didn't burn along with his suit.
Dick isnāt the sentimental type, nor is he the type to keep old, used things. It was only recently that he held a deep hatred for Robin and everything he stood for, but after taking the time and space to reflect, after Jason died, heās come to the realization that history is gruesome, whether it be his personal history or history between others. History is imperfect, but he can attempt to latch onto meaningful parts of it to fix the future with Jason.
The bo staff is fused with the pieces Jason left behind when he left Robin, completely reconstructed carefully, cleaned and polished from any dirt he had left behind. The grip is fashioned from strips of kevlar off-cuts used for Jasonās suit, sleek and smooth and wrapped neatly with supple leather around the middle. A āJā is branded into the bar. Dick gives a shaky exhale, feeling stupid. So stupid. Thereās no way Jason would want anything that had previously been hisābeen Robinās. Jasonās gone, moved on, and the last thing he needs is history haunting him. ]
I get it if you hate it. Just thought you might want what belongs to you. To Robin. [ Despite knowing better, despite himself, Dick lifts his gaze to look at Jason in an attempt to gauge any reaction, insides fluttering sickeningly with how vulnerable all this feels. Sizhui has single handedly ripped off a painful bandage. ]
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just like how he's grateful dick looks down when he does since he's peeking up, trying to see if he can gauge a reaction in the man, make certain he hasn't overstepped any boundaries or revealed information jason might not approve. does it genuinely matter when the other boy isn't even here at the moment? would dick honest to god try and find some way to ask him about it? he glances away again, toward the succulents scattered across the nearby windowsill, pouring every ounce of willpower he has into staring at those.
yet dick's question draws his attention anyhow, has him turning back, an eyebrow of his own lifting with consideration. should he agree? it's the truth, there's no doubting that and he's never been the best liar, but what ifā?] You're right. [well, alrighty then, guess they're doing this.] He'sā Jason is the only person I really know right now.
I'm still settling into my job, my home... [his gaze falters momentarily, lips rolling before he gathers himself.] It's lonely, but that isn't his fault.
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It's not your fault, either. Jason's the only person you know. [ Wow, think about that. Jason Todd, the only person in your life. He manages a smile. ] It's a new environment. It's not surprising that you feel alone. [ His chest tugs. ] But you know me, now, as well. [ What was it that Rachel said? Can't resist a stray? A bird with a broken wing? ]
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being fair, dick is technically right in this situation, too. sizhui straightens and rises to his feet all in one graceful motion, outright grinning while he bridges what distance is between them, an arm outstretched for a more proper greeting; the simple handshake seems harmless enough.] Since we've met properly, I guess an actual introduction is due, hm? My name is Lan Sizhui, though just āSizhuiā is alright. [he shrugs sheepishly, smile broadening.] Old habits die hard.
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His smile tugs wider with the slight cant of his head. Dickās too used to minding the every point and set of his body, of othersā bodies, and he canāt help but notice a fluidity to the way Sizhui lifts out of the daybed and reaches out. Hm. A fluidity thatās effortless and graceful and speaks volumes about Sizhuiās awareness of his own body. A fluidity that hints at training.
His gaze puzzles for a veiled second as he reaches out and takes the hand in a firm, supportive grip. ]
Sizhui. Good to finally meet you. Dick Grayson. Iām sure Jasonās told youālots. [ A weight to that last word, tugged by guilt. ] But Iām glad Iām meeting you with no pretense.
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goodness, sizhui's practically beaming by the time dick accepts the gesture and takes his hand, which he closes his fingers around in an equally tight hold. dick's mindfulness in this moment is important because the younger male's hands are soft, but there's a certain sturdiness there that speaks volumes; faint leftover calluses from years of sword-fighting and playing guqin, obviously, though he's discovered the wonders of pumice stones, lotions and other modern world remedies to help. they'll for sure start coming back once the gardening takes.
he doesn't let go or withdraw right away, briefly distracted by dick's comment about what jason's told him.] The same to you. He definitely has, yes, but I have to admit: I'm one of those people who likes to meet someone face-to-face and gauge them in person.
So, I guess I'm saying I'm glad for that, too? [you're starting to sound like jingyi, comes a soft self-scolding then sizhui realizes he should maybe let go, finally loosens his fingers.] And I certainly don't understand what Jason meant when he said, āYeah, Dick's name really fits him because he is one.ā Because you don't seem contemptible at all...
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lucky he's cute.
the landlord loves him, his job is understanding. really shows how far good looks'll get you.
jason wouldn't get shit if their shoes were swapped; even after washing up, jason still feels like a mess. grease stains in ripped jeans and hair fucked up under his hood. jason doesn't need it. he shoves his wallet back into his pocket as the elevator comes to a stop, the doors opening apart for him. new world and all, he'd think sizhui would never get bored, but he doesn't like being left alone. even though there's plenty jason could be filling his time doing, he's slinking out the elevator and down a familiar tight hallway.
all he hears is his own music even as his keys jingle as he slides the key in, opening the door.] Hey babeā
[ ā the words are cut off, punctuated with jason yanking the wire of his earbuds and pulling them quickly out of his ears, body stiff and bristling at the sight of dick grayson. his shoulders are tight, jaw set, but jason stays frozen in the doorway, eyes flickering between sizhui's hand in dick's. between sizhui and dick, lingering longer on dick.] What the fuck are you doing here.
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Right. Of course Jason would call him a dick and play on the age-old joke of his name to someone he hasnāt even ever met. Of course Jason would talk shit behind his back but really, what was he even expecting. He probably deserves it, after what happened between them. Dick huffs out a wry laugh, shaking his head before lifting a brow. ]
Jasonāsā [ His head whips to the door at the sound of a key in the lock, eyes widening, heart immediately leaping to his tight throat. Heās too shocked to have the mind to pull his hand away from Sizhuiās grip, not that they were doing anything wrong. Just shaking hands. Thatās it.
Except for the fact that he knows sure as hell Jason would hate that heās here.
Silence so thick it could be cut with a knife permeates through the air. So much gets expressed in the tension of Jasonās shoulders, bristling and riled up, spitting words sharp and hot after calling Sizhui babe. He pulls his hand back, drops it to his side as his jaw tightens. ]
Jason. [ In the flesh, looking exactly like heād left him. ] Iām not. [ Leaving, pushing off the counter heās leaning on, all hint of the smile on his mouth tugs off as he looks away from Jason and makes a move to step towards the door. Itās fine, he doesnāt mind. He doesnāt care if it makes him look weak, like heās giving up. Heāll leave. ]
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noise near the door also draws his attention, makes sizhui snap his attention in that direction, heartbeat jackhammering with the realization: jason's home even before his key slides home and the door swings open.
āhey, babeāā but the abrupt pause steals his breath away, makes him suddenly glad dick can form the coherent thought of letting him go which makes sizhui lower his arm, both of them tucking almost shamefully behind his back. no, they weren't doing anything wrong, that doesn't mean dick being inside the apartment is right in a sense. (it's not wrong either, it just feels like outright disrespect for jason's wishes, even if not explicitly stated.) neverminding the apprehension in his voice,] Jason! Hi, [and before he can lose his nerve (or dick can get too far), sizhui's skittering toward jason, sidling up beside him and looping an arm around his waist to squeeze.
doing this inadvertently(?) crowds the doorway a little more, making it so dick either has to stop or attempt an uncomfy squeeze past them both.] Listen, it's okay, I only invited him inside to talk for a little bit! [you weren't supposed to come home yet, goes unsaid for obvious reasons.
he tightens his arm around jason's midsection, both for his own sake and jason's, doing everything within his power to ignore the higher pitch of his voice. (it might also be for dick's sake too, considering any possibly reckless actions.)] I'm sorry, Iā I probably should've asked, but it was my fault, I insisted. Then we lost track of time andā
[stop, comes a soft voice in his head. so he does, doe-eyed as he frantically glances between them, breath held, the anticipation creeping higher.]
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how it was supposed to be his last talk, period.
his fingers twitch, clenching white-knuckled around the wire of his earbuds, his keys. evaded death, some fucking how, and he'd sure intended to keep evading dick just the same. he wasn't going back, not for anything in the world. all the glamour of robin was dead and buried. titans was a collection of douchebags he wouldn't miss.
dick's a memory of a goddamn nightmare, of windows and floors flashing back, and jason's jaw is clenched tight against his shitty thoughts. for whatever reason, dick doesn't argue. that sinks in dully, sizhui colliding warm against his side as a dim distraction from shit he'd rather forget.
sizhui's voice slowly registers, but even as his head turns slightly towards sizhui, an arm instinctively curling around him, his eyes stay on dick other than a short glance.] Not your fault, Sizhui. [ and he tries to force himself to sound casual, but it comes out terse. he isn't blaming sizhui for shit he doesn't know, that jason didn't tell him, but he couldn't want anything less. wind against his face, the bright lights from the windows of every floor he fell past flashing in his mind, dick's shout drowned out by the noise of the fall ā ]
What the fuck we talking about, guys? [he asks bitter, me? the furious and unasked question. he looks away from dick his fingers tightening in the tangled wire and the soft fabric of sizhui's sweater.] Y'know, me and Dickie have a bit of history, baby.
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Thereās no way Sizhui can hold it back, as much as it seems he thinks he might be able to. Dickās head tips down, eyes lifting again, wary and glowering from beneath furrowed brows. Heāsāworried, afraid, braced for the storm that brews in Jasonās eyes. His arms cross over his chest, taking in the way Jasonās arm wraps possessively-protectively around Sizhuiās shoulders. ]
Itās fine. We donāt have to get into it. I came by toā[ Dick stops in his tracks because Sizhui and Jason are in his way, blocking the door and his way out and because heās not going to mention the reason why he dropped by. ] Iāll leave. If youāll let me. [ He can see the tension wound in Jasonās hand and forces himself to take a steadying breath. ] Thanks, Sizhui. And Jason. [ A beat. ] Happy birthday.
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sizhui finally lets out the breath he's holding, unable to take it and the almost suffocating tension between the other two people in the room. what does he do now? they have history, jason says, but dick shoots him down, saying they don't need to talk about it, that he can just go. an interpose he latches onto, a diversion while he attempts nudging against jason's side, some gesture of affection he's hoping will help him loosen his taut as a tightwire posture.] Jason, please, it was harmless. [he sounds pathetic, almost like he's begging for it to not be a big deal when it's obviously quite the opposite; their unresolved tension speaks volumes to that.
curious though he is, sizhui's not keen on making dick uncomfortable, particularly after they'd been having a decent conversation, a thing they might be able to continue sometime if this moment ends up salvageable. despite the bewilderment, his attention flickers to dick, head nodding.] You're welcome, [he murmurs, unsure what else he can say at this point, aside from the one lingering question threatening to make him burst if he doesn't ask:] What do you mean by āhistory?ā
[though maybe if he's still pushing up against jason to help move them aside, it'll work for further distraction and dick might get a chance he can takeā unless, of course, it absolutely backfires just like everything else seems to be doing today.]
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jason didn't expect him in the middle of the goddamn apartment, making besties with sizhui, but he isn't about to throw down in this crowded little apartment, as much as both of them act like he can't control himself. the pleading from sizhui just has his jaw set harder, but sizhui rushes to thank dick anyway. yeah. buddies already.
he doesn't know why he'd ever expect dick to rise to the bait of his bitterness, because dick's as ready as ever to get out of the way of jason's shit.
the disarming note is the way dick tacks on happy birthday. the tension in his jaw going slack. it's never been a big deal and he doesn't care. the most attention it's gotten in his life was the cake alfred made him. he guides sizhui a few steps forward, gently kicking the door shut behind them.] I mean, he's like my big brother.
[explaining is better than screaming what the fuck. maybe jason has dick's birthday in his memory, but it's different.]
Didn't like me not coming home, bro?
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With him especially.
However, heās not going to be throwing Jason on the floor this time, no matter what. He squares his shoulders, fingers digging into his upper arms where heās crossed them, and shakes his head. No, he didnāt like it when Jason didnāt come home. Of course not.
More bait. More bait that he knows he canāt simply avoid, because Jasonās looking for a reaction and probably wonāt stop until he gets one.
And maybe he deserves one. Fine. Fine. Then if Jasonās so keen on digging up history, if Sizhuiās asking for history, then heāll give it. ]
I knew you werenāt dead. [ Dickās wary gaze looks at Jason, then drifts back to Sizhui, again, wondering just how much he knows. ] I knew when they couldnāt find your body.
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except it isn't, unfortunately. (because of course it can't be that easyā)
widened eyes darting between the two of them, he withdraws his arm for now, lets them both hang helplessly at his sides while he stands there. āhe's like my big brother,ā jason says, ādidn't like me not coming home?ā bump-bump, his heart jackhammers so hard, it actually hurts enough to make sizhui clutch his chest. they're... brothers? something about that doesn't sit quite right but it's not his place to question what's being revealed at the moment.
āi knew you weren't dead.ā he swallows thickly, raises his other hand and clutches jason's forearm. āwhen they couldn't find your body.ā] Thatā that's when you were with me, wasn't it? Jason, [sizhui's voice lowers an octave, hardly a whisper as he clenches his fingers tighter on the other boy's jacket,] w-why would you be dead?
[there are so, so many more questions he has about this, yet that's the most important one which needs answering; why would jason be dead here?]
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and he still regrets it when it's out there, skin crawling with sizhui against him, hearing the shit jason's kept buried, one of sizhui's hands grasping at him. all of it sends his stomach sinking down to his boots like he's got a case of vertigo. against all the dust it kicks up, shitty memories galore, and almost worse, sizhui's small voice, jason glares somewhere over dick's shoulders, steeling his shoulders stiffly. fighting would be easier. ]
I tripped. Fell. Should have hit the pavement fifteen-stories down. [he expects sizhui to gather from the tone that there was no tripping. he didn't stub his toe and trip off a building to his death. the forced 'casual' edge to his voice is gone.]
No thanks to Dick, I'm still kicking.
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His breath stops in his throat, brows furrowing, expression barely held together with a string and he has to turn his face to the side. Because thatā thatās the truth. Right there. He swallows the thick lump that rises up his throat. Quiet, low, he amends: ]
He jumped. I didnāt stop him. [ Sad, tired eyes lift to Sizhui. ] I'm sorry.
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i tripped. fell. hit the pavement fifteen stories down. dead, jason would've died if that had happened. jumped. didn't stop him. i'm sorry. did jason trip or did he jump? the way dick had looked at him, like he'd genuinely regretted what'd happenedā he (finally) gasps a sharp, pointed breath, scrubs both hands over his face then drops them to splay across his thighs so he can have some way of holding himself up when he slumps forward.
it's too much all at once, more than he can take; there's a sting in his eyes, a too-familiar burning that makes him immediately prop his elbows on his knees instead and drop his face into his palms. don't cry, don't do it.]
Hold on, Iā I need a m-minute to... to... [but he trails off, inhales shakily, cups his hands against his ears and grasps for the ever-present white ribbon around his forehead, though to no avail since it hadn't crossed his mind today. so, he clutches his hair in lieu of it, tries everything possible to catch his breath.]
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but then there's sizhui, pulling away and jason's brows knit together and all the fight is out of him like a balloon losing all its air when sizhui drops onto the coffee table. he feels his pulse start to rabbit again, dick's sad puppy face and sizhui bent over himself. sizhui's voice is pinched off, shaky, and sounds a helluva lot like he might cry. jason's throat just gets tighter.
he scrubs a hand over his own face before dropping his arms. he flings his phone and earbuds at the daybed with a frustrated noise.]
It's not a big deal, babeā [ jason tries, starting to fucking pace. ] I'm fine.
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Itās low. ]
Sorry, Iāllā [ And Jason is putting up a front again. Dick wants to go put a hand on Sizhuiās shoulder but itās not his place. He wants to leave, but Jasonās pacing in what little space there is, and itās a bad idea to get near that orbit right now.
So he sinks back against the counter, head dipped, watching, wary, wound tight. Itās hard to breathe in here, so much more constricted than the airy tower heās used to, so much tension stretched in the small space. He doesnāt elaborate at all and doesnāt say another word. Heāll wait it out. Wait it out and then get out of here. ]
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jason didn't deny it, though. sizhui's heart leaps into his throat, attempts to practically suffocate him yet he manages swallowing hard again, forcing down the still-growing urge to cry as he coaxes himself upright. his eyelashes are damp, there's no mistaking that, though he's staunched the waterworks enough to avoid any tearstains on his cheeks. (for now, at least.)
jason's cellular device and headphones hitting the gift he'd left on the sofa draws his attention, the thump an audible reminder. he lifts his eyebrows, gives a soft sniffle, slowly gets to his feet with his attention solely on how jason is pacing.]
It's not fine, it's not, [he pauses momentarily, turns and moves to pick up the gift-wrapped box sitting on the daybed, striding toward jason so he can offer it to him.] But what's worse is that you think Dick doesn't care when he brought you a birthday gift. [another pause, just to catch his breath,] I think that's the opposite thing someone who doesn't care would do.
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he paces the little space, so fucked up and riled, until sizhui is up and jason comes to an abrupt stop, glassy eyes following sizhui. his jaw twitches, tense and tight, and argument is right on the tip of tongue, filling up his chest that it is fine and why the fuck would dick care. sizhui holds out a skinny box, all smooth meticulously wrapped.
and tells him dick brought it for him. a birthday gift.
his heart stops and everything in him knots up, eyes darting to dick again quick and wide. it's so fucking stupid but when he can count his birthday presents on one hand. when he's been nothing but a fucking mess for dick to deal with.] I'm a goddamn curse to him.
[he's fucking poison. shit follows him like a nightmare. his gaze darts from dick back to sizhui, eyes glossy and wet against a grimace of an expression.] Why the fuck would he get me anything?
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Itās nothing. You know what, [ He wants to ask for it back, but with how everything is unfolding, heās caught in a hard place with nowhere to go. ] You donāt want it, I get it. Here, Iāll take it back. [ He uncurls a hand from its death grip on the counter and holds it back out to Sizhui. ] Jason doesnāt want it. Forget it. [ Heād leave, but if itās true that Jason doesnāt want the gift, it would be a waste to leave here. Too important to him to leave here. ]
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he holds jason's blurry-eyed gaze once they're face-to-face, reaches his unoccupied hand up and gently thumbs away the other boy's tears that are threatening to spill over.] That's not true and you know it, Jason.
[then sizhui's lowering the same hand, taking one of jason's wrists and gently twisting, placing the gift into jason's upturned palm. he closes his fingers around it, directs his attention toward dick, lets his gaze drift down to the outstretched limb he's offering now. with his fingers tight around jason's hand and the gift, he tugs, hoping jason doesn't put up much of a fight while he reaches for dick's forearm, draws them closer together by using himself as the literal middleman.]
Dick... today may be our first day meeting in person but I can say, with confidence, you wouldn't have brought this gift for Jason if you thought he wouldn't want it. [he tentatively glances between them, hoping he hasn't been too presumptuous, praying jason does want the gift.]
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dully, he lets sizhui's fingers wrap around his hand, pressing the gift into his hand and closing his fingers around it, jason watching numbly, gaze stuck on the alleged birthday gift. sizhui wouldn't lie. dick wouldn't be so quick to be hurt, to rescind the gift otherwise. he doesn't know what to think of it. isn't really thinking when he lets sizhui drag him over to dick.
doesn't stop until they're both there. jason sniffs, not looking up from the present in his hand. wonders what dick thinks he wants. wonders why the hell dick even cares. jason hasn't made it easy.
around the knot in his throat and all this bullshit about if he wants it or not, he speaks up.] I want it. You gave it to me, so it's mine.
[it might actually kill him to admit he just plain wants it. he gently shrugs sizhui's hand off of him to pick at the seams of the wrapping paper, still stubbornly not looking up at either of them.]
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There must be some irony to the fact that three fully grown men can be calmed at the sight of a gift. Right. He lets Sizhui tug them close but closes off anyway, crossing his arms again as he drops his gaze to the gift. Stupidāstupid. Jasonās going to hate it, probably attempt to throw it at him so heāll brace himself with a clenched jaw, heartbeat ricketing up as Jason lifts the edges of the wrapping paper.
Beneath is a slick black box. Elegant flush clasps are buckled on one side, sleek hinges on the other. When Jason opens it, heāll see a very recognizable item inside.
Dickās watching warily fingers digging into his upper arms, refusing to look at Jasonās expression and instead, keeping focused on the gift. ] Itāsā [ a collapsible bo staff, shrunken to its shortest length of just a foot. He takes a steadying breath.
He hesitates, then starts: ] It was Robinās. The parts were from the first bo staff. I remade it with Stu with what you left behind. [ Vague, because Sizhuiās here. Itās the original parts to his first bo staff that made him Robin, the first thing Bruce gave him as Robin, the first tactile thing that made him feel like he was in control. The only thing he didn't burn along with his suit.
Dick isnāt the sentimental type, nor is he the type to keep old, used things. It was only recently that he held a deep hatred for Robin and everything he stood for, but after taking the time and space to reflect, after Jason died, heās come to the realization that history is gruesome, whether it be his personal history or history between others. History is imperfect, but he can attempt to latch onto meaningful parts of it to fix the future with Jason.
The bo staff is fused with the pieces Jason left behind when he left Robin, completely reconstructed carefully, cleaned and polished from any dirt he had left behind. The grip is fashioned from strips of kevlar off-cuts used for Jasonās suit, sleek and smooth and wrapped neatly with supple leather around the middle. A āJā is branded into the bar. Dick gives a shaky exhale, feeling stupid. So stupid. Thereās no way Jason would want anything that had previously been hisābeen Robinās. Jasonās gone, moved on, and the last thing he needs is history haunting him. ]
I get it if you hate it. Just thought you might want what belongs to you. To Robin. [ Despite knowing better, despite himself, Dick lifts his gaze to look at Jason in an attempt to gauge any reaction, insides fluttering sickeningly with how vulnerable all this feels. Sizhui has single handedly ripped off a painful bandage. ]
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