[Just because the last thing he wants to do right now is fight with Jason, it doesn't mean he still isn't really expecting one- that he doesn't instinctively brace his feet and it's only the fact that Jason's own muscles don't tense, that he slides his hand up towards the base of Dick's neck, rather than darting out and getting it over with- that stops Dick from reaching out and stopping the hand from making contact.
After a moment, he almost wishes that he had. It's the sparks of blue that distract him first. The way it radiates through the barely there material of his shirt- the way it glows so much brighter beneath the bandages taped to Jason's. There's unease pricking along his skin- just another way that shows he's not something else, something he knows nothing about, and has no method to remove. Healed over so long, he hadn't even noticed anything had been placed there. Not at first.
His brother apologizes, and Dick stops staring at the space they're connected, and his eyes snap up to Jason's, head tilted back slightly to manage it] That's all you have to say?
[Just- weird as hell? After the surprise of the side effect passes, it's hard not to feel tugged under by the things that Jason feels. The guilt, ever present and so much at once- Dick almost has to wonder how he has room to feel anything else, and it takes him a second to differentiate the anger Jason feels from it. Softer, than he was expecting.
It's that, that has him letting out a slow breath, and reaching his hand up tentatively to curl around Jason's bare wrist] Okay, so. You're trying. I still am. I meant what I said.
[That what he did- however hard it was, however unfair, he only did because the city and Jason both needed him to. Because the brothers left under his care were counting on him to keep them safe, whether they really wanted to acknowledge it or not. There's regret, from his end of the bond- He doesn't know how to feel anything else, first and foremost where Jason is concerned. There's anger still too, at the situation at him- an apology, a feeling of guilt- it's not enough. Not for Dick, not right now. It's a start, and more than he's gotten where he's from- and he's starting to see that the man before him isn't the one he's familiar.
Never let it be said that he doesn't catch on eventually. More so, there's grief, an open wound that never quite heals, and far below that- faint, pain, guilt, so old and constant- that Dick hardly registers them as something that should not belong.]
Are we? Fine, that is?
[He thinks maybe, it's about time, that you circled back to the original questions he wanted to know. The things that he now thinks have some merit. What do you know about him, what kind of greeting were you really expecting?] What kind of leads? I'll take care of Damian- that's a given, but if you think I can't multitask-
[He's gonna get in your way so bad, just to make you regret it. There's a tentative smile, curling at the corner of his mouth- it feels wrong on his face, directed at Jason, after all these years] Anyone ever tell you that you need to work on your delivery?
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After a moment, he almost wishes that he had. It's the sparks of blue that distract him first. The way it radiates through the barely there material of his shirt- the way it glows so much brighter beneath the bandages taped to Jason's. There's unease pricking along his skin- just another way that shows he's not something else, something he knows nothing about, and has no method to remove. Healed over so long, he hadn't even noticed anything had been placed there. Not at first.
His brother apologizes, and Dick stops staring at the space they're connected, and his eyes snap up to Jason's, head tilted back slightly to manage it] That's all you have to say?
[Just- weird as hell? After the surprise of the side effect passes, it's hard not to feel tugged under by the things that Jason feels. The guilt, ever present and so much at once- Dick almost has to wonder how he has room to feel anything else, and it takes him a second to differentiate the anger Jason feels from it. Softer, than he was expecting.
It's that, that has him letting out a slow breath, and reaching his hand up tentatively to curl around Jason's bare wrist] Okay, so. You're trying. I still am. I meant what I said.
[That what he did- however hard it was, however unfair, he only did because the city and Jason both needed him to. Because the brothers left under his care were counting on him to keep them safe, whether they really wanted to acknowledge it or not. There's regret, from his end of the bond- He doesn't know how to feel anything else, first and foremost where Jason is concerned. There's anger still too, at the situation at him- an apology, a feeling of guilt- it's not enough. Not for Dick, not right now. It's a start, and more than he's gotten where he's from- and he's starting to see that the man before him isn't the one he's familiar.
Never let it be said that he doesn't catch on eventually. More so, there's grief, an open wound that never quite heals, and far below that- faint, pain, guilt, so old and constant- that Dick hardly registers them as something that should not belong.]
Are we? Fine, that is?
[He thinks maybe, it's about time, that you circled back to the original questions he wanted to know. The things that he now thinks have some merit. What do you know about him, what kind of greeting were you really expecting?] What kind of leads? I'll take care of Damian- that's a given, but if you think I can't multitask-
[He's gonna get in your way so bad, just to make you regret it. There's a tentative smile, curling at the corner of his mouth- it feels wrong on his face, directed at Jason, after all these years] Anyone ever tell you that you need to work on your delivery?