Chapter Text
Jason doesn't know why he's here. He is not a nostalgic person, the past can stay in the past; but, well, this place holds more than just nostalgia for him. Staring at what probably should have been his grave is at the very least not healthy.
Memories that are more blank than real come to mind as he looks at the grass covering his grave, the Gotham spring rain battling with the groundskeepers to turn the already thin grass into a muddy mess. It's then that he notices the out of place bouquet sitting at the feet of the angel of his tombstone. The flowers are a few days old, some of the petals drying and others falling off to look like dried tears on his grave. It took him a moment to place them, but when he did it made him wonder who had left them on his grave.
Asphodels, the flowers of Elysian. ' My regret follows you to the grave.'
Alfred arranged the flowers in the vase for the fifth time, Jason sitting on the kitchen counter drinking a glass of milk as the older man examined his work before taking out one of the long stem roses. "It's just a bunch of flowers, Alfie. They don't have to be perfect."
"That, young sir, is where you are wrong." The British accent seeming more refined to Jason as a reprimanding look turned towards him. "Flora has long been used as a message, each blossom and color meaning something."
"Flowers have their own language?" Jason said incredulously. The boy was on his way of learning his fourth major world language, but to know that flowers had one of their own baffled him.
Alfred nodded, replacing the rose he had removed earlier into a vase meant for just a single flower. "Why, of course," Alfred smiled, "For one, roses in and of themselves mean beauty, but like these yellow roses symbolize friendship and welcome."
Jason just nodded, but was unable to speak as Dick waltzed into the kitchen, "What's with the flower talk? Does Little Wing have a date?" The overexcited puppy-man that was Jason predecessor's turned to Jason. "Do you need any pointers? A free bee would be don't listen to Bruce, but I'm here if you need..."
"Would you shut up." Jason almost shouted, the heat going to his ears telling him he was possibly blushing. "I don't have a date, Alfred was just telling me about the Language of Flowers or some cra..." Jason caught himself mid sentence, hoping Alfred would let this one slide. "What are you doing here anyways Grayson? Don't you have a girlfriend you should be spending the day with?"
"What I can't spend the day here?" Dick said with a mocking tone.
Jason smiled, "Nope, so what are you doing here?"
"You wound me, Jay." Dick said, his melodramatics making even Alfred shaking his head from. Looking, Jason decided, that his audience was not following for whatever his play was, Dick shrugged. "I needed to pick something up I left in my room."
Jason let out a puff of air. "See that wasn't too hard."
Dick ruffled Jason's hair, putting a hand behind his back and producing one of the roses Alfred had regrettably cut too short. Grabbing Jason's hand, he gave him the flower. "Guess not, Little Wing. Have this rose as an apology." The flower was more peach than yellow. "Have fun at Bruce's party!"
Jason was unable to say anything as Dick ran off to get whatever it was he came for. He looked at the flower, noting Alfred small chuckle as he went back to his work as if the intrusion never happened.