[ Jason can only imagine how much C.C. remembers of old connections, old bonds. What he can't imagine is how much more C.C.'s forgotten. He knows he's far from the only mystery aficionado in town, but he suspects this to be another reason he keeps her around. Her immortality and everything it entails is so... puzzling. Nothing about her is opaque, and for Jason, it's gripping-- to watch someone to whom the passage of time has shown no mercy. Not in terms of her age or appearance, of course, but in terms of her experience. Like being in her mere presence teaches him something.
Even if he can hardly fathom the lesson, what with his lived experience being ill-equipped in its shortness. His is a candle that was snuffed out prematurely, yet relit. Hers has been lit unhindered for a long time... almost like it cannot stop. All the two seem to have in common, then, is the pain of burning. Whatever they're going through and dealing with, however much they struggle to process or bury the accumulated tragedies of their lives, they know something changed when they learned they could shoulder their pain together. Despite learning about C.C.'s healing factor, Jason always thought he'd be the one to take a bullet for her... and not the other way around.
But even now, with the two of them on each side of the tub, he has to remember her vows. Perhaps he's constantly surprised by her loyalty because he's never seen a promise fulfilled on his behalf. Where was any justice for him, long after the Joker murdered him? How quickly was he forgotten by the superhero community, that he had to go and rough up the newest Robin, Tim Drake, at Titans Tower... just to prove a point? Jason spent so long crying out for acknowledgment, recognition, respect. And now that he rules Gotham's criminal underworld with fear... even that's not enough. Because really, the recognition C.C. gives - wrapped though it may be in a vows - is enough.
Jason's just afraid to know what that means-- if for any reason that might threaten his conviction, his drive to be Red Hood. He's not ready to let go of his war on crime. He's afraid to learn who or what he is without it.
And maybe that's why being around C.C. is so captivating. She and all that she represents don't just puzzle Jason. They scare him. ]
Honestly?
[ Indeed, he's struggling to remember when his last bath was. ]
Probably sometime when I was a kid. Back when I was living at the lap of luxury in Wayne Manor.
[ There's irony in his words, a clear sense that he resents what he describes. ]
First time for everything, though. Don't think I've ever been this sore, anyway.
[ Mercenaries like the ones he fought earlier weren't as common as they were when Red Hood first appeared many months ago. Jason might have grown complacent roughing up mobsters and their relatively unskilled bodyguards. ]
Nor, I guess... this lonely.
[ There's a forthrightness in C.C.'s question that gets him to chuckle self-consciously when he answers. Like he's impressed by how quickly she can read him, even though she's done that a million times over. Maybe it's the sense that because of all the lives she's lived, she might know more about him than he does. Like a lot of things he's done and a lot of things he can look forward to are stuff she's already experienced. ]
Not a flattering thing to admit, I know. But screw it.
[ He dare not move from his seat, though, not wanting to alarm her and give her one more reason to stay guarded. For now, he's content to recline against his side of the tub, sinking his arms in the water's warmth. ]
Aren't you the same?
I know we both keep walls up. I know a lot of your loyalty's bound up in vows.
But what are we beneath the walls? What are we outside of these vows?
[ He looks away, unable to face her again. Embarrassed is what he is. Never having opened his heart to another, never having taken such stupid - almost juvenile - risks because the most turbulent and heartrending years of his youth were ripped away from him. Here is a man stunted, despite what he's achieved in adulthood. A man willing to jeopardize everything after losing it all once already... because he doesn't understand just how much he's lost.
In a way, he's as much a mystery to himself as C.C. is. ]
This stupid. I know it's stupid.
If you wanna leave now, I won't stop you. Hell, I can just go.
no subject
Even if he can hardly fathom the lesson, what with his lived experience being ill-equipped in its shortness. His is a candle that was snuffed out prematurely, yet relit. Hers has been lit unhindered for a long time... almost like it cannot stop. All the two seem to have in common, then, is the pain of burning. Whatever they're going through and dealing with, however much they struggle to process or bury the accumulated tragedies of their lives, they know something changed when they learned they could shoulder their pain together. Despite learning about C.C.'s healing factor, Jason always thought he'd be the one to take a bullet for her... and not the other way around.
But even now, with the two of them on each side of the tub, he has to remember her vows. Perhaps he's constantly surprised by her loyalty because he's never seen a promise fulfilled on his behalf. Where was any justice for him, long after the Joker murdered him? How quickly was he forgotten by the superhero community, that he had to go and rough up the newest Robin, Tim Drake, at Titans Tower... just to prove a point? Jason spent so long crying out for acknowledgment, recognition, respect. And now that he rules Gotham's criminal underworld with fear... even that's not enough. Because really, the recognition C.C. gives - wrapped though it may be in a vows - is enough.
Jason's just afraid to know what that means-- if for any reason that might threaten his conviction, his drive to be Red Hood. He's not ready to let go of his war on crime. He's afraid to learn who or what he is without it.
And maybe that's why being around C.C. is so captivating. She and all that she represents don't just puzzle Jason. They scare him. ]
Honestly?
[ Indeed, he's struggling to remember when his last bath was. ]
Probably sometime when I was a kid. Back when I was living at the lap of luxury in Wayne Manor.
[ There's irony in his words, a clear sense that he resents what he describes. ]
First time for everything, though. Don't think I've ever been this sore, anyway.
[ Mercenaries like the ones he fought earlier weren't as common as they were when Red Hood first appeared many months ago. Jason might have grown complacent roughing up mobsters and their relatively unskilled bodyguards. ]
Nor, I guess... this lonely.
[ There's a forthrightness in C.C.'s question that gets him to chuckle self-consciously when he answers. Like he's impressed by how quickly she can read him, even though she's done that a million times over. Maybe it's the sense that because of all the lives she's lived, she might know more about him than he does. Like a lot of things he's done and a lot of things he can look forward to are stuff she's already experienced. ]
Not a flattering thing to admit, I know. But screw it.
[ He dare not move from his seat, though, not wanting to alarm her and give her one more reason to stay guarded. For now, he's content to recline against his side of the tub, sinking his arms in the water's warmth. ]
Aren't you the same?
I know we both keep walls up. I know a lot of your loyalty's bound up in vows.
But what are we beneath the walls? What are we outside of these vows?
[ He looks away, unable to face her again. Embarrassed is what he is. Never having opened his heart to another, never having taken such stupid - almost juvenile - risks because the most turbulent and heartrending years of his youth were ripped away from him. Here is a man stunted, despite what he's achieved in adulthood. A man willing to jeopardize everything after losing it all once already... because he doesn't understand just how much he's lost.
In a way, he's as much a mystery to himself as C.C. is. ]
This stupid. I know it's stupid.
If you wanna leave now, I won't stop you. Hell, I can just go.