[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. ]
[the hand on jason's withdraws first then sizhui lowers the other from dick's arm, he tucks the left behind his back, curls his right fingers around the wrist and stands there, unsure what else he's supposed to do now that they've reached this point. jason (quite obviously) wants the gift dick brought him if the way he's opening the paper is any indication, a task that has him staring despite knowing it's honestly none of his business.
whatever it is that can have all of them standing together like this must be important; dick hasn't withdrawn except into himself, which makes sizhui feel like the worst person in existence, but jason keeps right on opening the present.
and what's revealed isn't anything he would've expected; the box is striking in an indescribable way, though once it's opened, the bo staff inside proves more exquisite than almost any weapon he's ever seen. bichen might come close or perhaps zidian with its crackling purple lightning? but he's never seen any sort of staff this refined beforeā which means it's important, evidently, for whatever reasons he doesn't know.
for a brief moment, sizhui's gaze flickers from jason to dick, eyes so, so wide with surprise he can feel it on himself. his chest aches with a brewing storm of guilt and longing (and for some reason: relief), it makes him loosen a hand, reach around and up to press his palm over his chest, like the gesture might keep his heart from beating so hard. much to his dismay, that's not how things work, and it only makes his pulse pound harder, in fact. (can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? he's uncertain, but it sure feels that way.)
sizhui inclines his head, bites down on his cheek to keep from saying anything, regardless of desperately wanting to compliment how wonderful the weapon is. he doesn't have a clue how jason could react and gods forbid, if it happens to be negative, he do something else that ends up making the situation worse.]
[ the wrapping paper ripped off cleanly, discarded to the floor in favor of the pretty little box underneath. he didn't waste time opening it, but his breath sticks in his chest when his gift slides into his hands.
what's in his hands hardly needs dick's explanation, recognizable under the additions, and it fuels the most conflicting well of emotions in him. if anyone'd ever asked him if he wanted anything he'd left behind with robin, he'd have sneered no. this is something completely different though, a frankenstein of dick's and his stuff that hits hard.
almost as hard as the immediate recognition that this wasn't some last minute gift. it took time. it was something dick had to think through. that hits harder than he'd expect, that all this time he's been running from that shit, dick hadn't forgotten him. there's like no way he deserves this after all the shit he gave dick. more so after today, all the bullshit he said. blaming dick for shit that couldn't be his fault.
it's too nice, a freaking gorgeous staff before dick added all the fine details. there's awe in his expression, in his eyes as he turns it over in his hands, doesn't want to tell dick how fucking cool jason used to think he looked with his bo staff. so badass. the staff he'd train with at the tower had nothing on dick's. he itches to try it out already, but sizhui is right there. jason glances at him and while this probably doesn't mean anything, he doesn't want to inspire more questions. he looks away quickly from the rapt attention, feels awkward under it.
he thumbs over the J and when he lifts his gaze back to dick, his throat gets tight to find dick already watching him.] I don't hate it. [he's quick to say and what he hadn't wanted to say follows anyway, out his mouth.] I always thought your bo staff was so fucking cool.
[ The sound of his own heart hammering away in his chest is so loud in his ears. Heās tense, watching Jason open up the present, eyes lifting wary and unsure to look at Sizhui, whoās also watching raptly. God. Those flickers of emotion over Jasonās face and itās hard for him to read exactly what any of it even means. Thereāthe pain that he predicted, fascination with the bo-staff, that he also knew would be there. A new toy, right? Who could resist. Jason lifts it and grips it and Dick feels his mouth part with how good it looks in Jasonās hand. Hisāhis, refashioned and now Jasonās. Strong fingers wrapped around the leather binding and a calloused thumb sliding over the āJā branded into the slick material.
Fuck itās hard to breathe. Itās hard to breathe because he knows how much this staff means to him, because he knows how much thought he put into it, making sure itād be just right and flawless when he expands. He braces himself for the disgust that must set in afterwards.
Except Jason doesnāt hate it. His eyes snap back to Jasonās face, widened in surprise. A beat as he tries to figure out what to say. ]
IāOkay. Well itās yours now. [ Hardened eyes soften just a tad, concrete walls cracking in the face of that realization. Jason doesnāt hate it. A breath he had been holding falls out in a sigh as he looks at Sizhui. He still treads carefully here. ] I didnāt want it to be a big thing like this. [ He explains quietly, offered as information rather than blame. ]
[after jason removes the staff from it's cradle, sizhui isn't sure why, but he instinctively reaches out, takes the box it was settled in so jason can get a better feel for the weapon. doing this, however, means his hands at least have something to do rather than fight to stay behind his back. because aside from peeking toward dick every now and then, he can't keep his eyes off how perfectly the baton settles in jason's hands, the way he moves it between his fingers in silent admiration. jay likes it, doesn't he?
good, since it was obviously made for him, make no mistake. seems he isn't the only one taken, either. he spares dick the briefest sidelong glance, considers his open mouth, wets his own lips before forcing himself to look away, the blood whooshing in his ears all he can hear for that too long minute.
he exhales a breathless sigh, loosens his vice-like grip on the weapon's container and, albeit with reluctance, averts his attention to dick again following his comment.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't haveā [sizhui hesitates, lowers his head once more, considers what words would work in this moment. it is a big thing, he reminds himself, dark eyes darting upward, from dick to jason then back.]
...how far does it extend? [because jason should try it out. maybe not swing too much or try anything super intricate, but opening the bo staff for a moment, letting its full weight rest in his hands. sizhui suppresses another noise ā something more unexplainable that might not sound appropriate coming out ā then fixes his gaze on dick, patiently waiting for an answer. (goodness, when did it get so warm all of a sudden?)]
[he doesn't hate it -- that's a goddamn understatement. his throat is still tight, makes it hard to swallow and hard to get words out, but it doesn't get any easier when dick's eyes snap back to him, wide. his eyes get softer and jason looks away, looks back down to the badass staff that's his now. yeah, he gets it when dick says he didn't want it to be this big of a deal.]
Thanks, [ he says, quieter. the whole spectacle aside, it wouldn't have meant any less, though. no one's given him anything important like this, made for him like this. he can't help running his fingers over the fine details, the kevlar strips and the J and -- all of it. he still can't believe dick did this for him.
his eyes flick back up when sizhui apologizes and, fuck does jason have a lot to apologize for when dick leaves. shit to explain that'd he rather not. only fucking fair that dick got outed too.
sizhui's curious question has jason's mouth pulling into a smirk even while sizhui is looking at dick for an answer. like jay can't just show him. he steps back, mindful of sizhui's neat little apartment.] Oh, I can answer thatā
[and jason does with a cocky flourish that compliments the staff extending to it's full length. he rests it against his shoulder with a pleased smirk.] Don't get jealous, baby.
[ Dick doesnāt often make it so obvious that he sees these things so clearly, but the interest in Sizhuiās eyes is undeniable. Itās as undeniable as how good Jason looks with the weapon held in his hand, in its small, compact form. Thereās a curious raise of a brow when Sizhui asks how long it extends. In all honesty, thatās not quite the reaction he had expected. Most would have been questioning the fact that heād just gifted a weapon as a birthday present, but Sizhui just seemsāinterested.
And Jason looks actually somewhat pleased with it. Dick takes another breath, slow to inhale and heavy with relief as he exhales. He even lets his mouth soften, looking away from Jason for the moment he extends it, watching Sizhuiās reaction.
The staff extends just as it should, swift and clean, sleek in Jasonās strong grip. God. He looks away, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. Part of him pinches at the sight of Jason holding something so Robin. Another part of him is pleased that what he made is so fitting.
When he looks up again, thereās a hint of warmth in his eyes. ]
Youāre welcome. [ He pushes off the counter. ] Alright, I think Iāve stayed long enough. Sizhui. Thanks for inviting me in. Nice meeting you. [ A beat, because none of this turned out as bad as it did. ] Jason. If you want tips with that, you know where I am.
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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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whatever it is that can have all of them standing together like this must be important; dick hasn't withdrawn except into himself, which makes sizhui feel like the worst person in existence, but jason keeps right on opening the present.
and what's revealed isn't anything he would've expected; the box is striking in an indescribable way, though once it's opened, the bo staff inside proves more exquisite than almost any weapon he's ever seen. bichen might come close or perhaps zidian with its crackling purple lightning? but he's never seen any sort of staff this refined beforeā which means it's important, evidently, for whatever reasons he doesn't know.
for a brief moment, sizhui's gaze flickers from jason to dick, eyes so, so wide with surprise he can feel it on himself. his chest aches with a brewing storm of guilt and longing (and for some reason: relief), it makes him loosen a hand, reach around and up to press his palm over his chest, like the gesture might keep his heart from beating so hard. much to his dismay, that's not how things work, and it only makes his pulse pound harder, in fact. (can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? he's uncertain, but it sure feels that way.)
sizhui inclines his head, bites down on his cheek to keep from saying anything, regardless of desperately wanting to compliment how wonderful the weapon is. he doesn't have a clue how jason could react and gods forbid, if it happens to be negative, he do something else that ends up making the situation worse.]
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what's in his hands hardly needs dick's explanation, recognizable under the additions, and it fuels the most conflicting well of emotions in him. if anyone'd ever asked him if he wanted anything he'd left behind with robin, he'd have sneered no. this is something completely different though, a frankenstein of dick's and his stuff that hits hard.
almost as hard as the immediate recognition that this wasn't some last minute gift. it took time. it was something dick had to think through. that hits harder than he'd expect, that all this time he's been running from that shit, dick hadn't forgotten him. there's like no way he deserves this after all the shit he gave dick. more so after today, all the bullshit he said. blaming dick for shit that couldn't be his fault.
it's too nice, a freaking gorgeous staff before dick added all the fine details. there's awe in his expression, in his eyes as he turns it over in his hands, doesn't want to tell dick how fucking cool jason used to think he looked with his bo staff. so badass. the staff he'd train with at the tower had nothing on dick's. he itches to try it out already, but sizhui is right there. jason glances at him and while this probably doesn't mean anything, he doesn't want to inspire more questions. he looks away quickly from the rapt attention, feels awkward under it.
he thumbs over the J and when he lifts his gaze back to dick, his throat gets tight to find dick already watching him.] I don't hate it. [he's quick to say and what he hadn't wanted to say follows anyway, out his mouth.] I always thought your bo staff was so fucking cool.
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Fuck itās hard to breathe. Itās hard to breathe because he knows how much this staff means to him, because he knows how much thought he put into it, making sure itād be just right and flawless when he expands. He braces himself for the disgust that must set in afterwards.
Except Jason doesnāt hate it. His eyes snap back to Jasonās face, widened in surprise. A beat as he tries to figure out what to say. ]
IāOkay. Well itās yours now. [ Hardened eyes soften just a tad, concrete walls cracking in the face of that realization. Jason doesnāt hate it. A breath he had been holding falls out in a sigh as he looks at Sizhui. He still treads carefully here. ] I didnāt want it to be a big thing like this. [ He explains quietly, offered as information rather than blame. ]
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good, since it was obviously made for him, make no mistake. seems he isn't the only one taken, either. he spares dick the briefest sidelong glance, considers his open mouth, wets his own lips before forcing himself to look away, the blood whooshing in his ears all he can hear for that too long minute.
he exhales a breathless sigh, loosens his vice-like grip on the weapon's container and, albeit with reluctance, averts his attention to dick again following his comment.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't haveā [sizhui hesitates, lowers his head once more, considers what words would work in this moment. it is a big thing, he reminds himself, dark eyes darting upward, from dick to jason then back.]
...how far does it extend? [because jason should try it out. maybe not swing too much or try anything super intricate, but opening the bo staff for a moment, letting its full weight rest in his hands. sizhui suppresses another noise ā something more unexplainable that might not sound appropriate coming out ā then fixes his gaze on dick, patiently waiting for an answer. (goodness, when did it get so warm all of a sudden?)]
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Thanks, [ he says, quieter. the whole spectacle aside, it wouldn't have meant any less, though. no one's given him anything important like this, made for him like this. he can't help running his fingers over the fine details, the kevlar strips and the J and -- all of it. he still can't believe dick did this for him.
his eyes flick back up when sizhui apologizes and, fuck does jason have a lot to apologize for when dick leaves. shit to explain that'd he rather not. only fucking fair that dick got outed too.
sizhui's curious question has jason's mouth pulling into a smirk even while sizhui is looking at dick for an answer. like jay can't just show him. he steps back, mindful of sizhui's neat little apartment.] Oh, I can answer thatā
[and jason does with a cocky flourish that compliments the staff extending to it's full length. he rests it against his shoulder with a pleased smirk.] Don't get jealous, baby.
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And Jason looks actually somewhat pleased with it. Dick takes another breath, slow to inhale and heavy with relief as he exhales. He even lets his mouth soften, looking away from Jason for the moment he extends it, watching Sizhuiās reaction.
The staff extends just as it should, swift and clean, sleek in Jasonās strong grip. God. He looks away, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. Part of him pinches at the sight of Jason holding something so Robin. Another part of him is pleased that what he made is so fitting.
When he looks up again, thereās a hint of warmth in his eyes. ]
Youāre welcome. [ He pushes off the counter. ] Alright, I think Iāve stayed long enough. Sizhui. Thanks for inviting me in. Nice meeting you. [ A beat, because none of this turned out as bad as it did. ] Jason. If you want tips with that, you know where I am.