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Can you get off on the wrong foot with someone who you’ve already met?
Similar to a machine that worked perfectly previously and now it’s just a little bit off because some part of it broke or ended up in the wrong place but you can’t figure out what, and you don't want to replace it either because it's still workable. Like you’re trying to keep up with something but you always end up doing it wrong.
That feels like a perfect metaphor for their current relationship.
Stagnant, nothing new, but doesn't feel as warm as before.
Jason is a romantic at heart, despite him having grown up with no such luxury of being able to take love for something that could be given freely, he loves the idea of romance. He’s a reader, and what’s a romantic if it’s not a reader? Love is something he craves physically, from all the cracks in between his heart, something that he wants to fill up in every one of them and mend it together. That’s why, when he came back he had assumed that their relationship would go back to what it was. Bright, colorful and something that filled him up to the brim. And he was so careful with it too, not allowing a single bit of it to be spilled over, soaking up all of it. Despite everything in him that’s green and ugly, he was still surprised when it was different from what he remembered.
It's not exactly a bad different, but it's not a good different either.
They still smile at each other in a way that makes his heart beat faster, they still go on dates that leave him feeling warm for the rest of the week and they still talk.
So Jason isn't sure what his problem is.
The little things shouldn’t bother him that much, not when he gets all of her to love. He really shouldn't be complaining, after all what she's doing isn't replacing him. Not one bit. He's still her boyfriend, and he's still her number one. So he doesn't know why he feels bitter.
There's a newer orbit to her, the way she speaks to everyone else.
Something he's so clearly not a part of.
It's just that she functions differently now, and he's not a part of her new orbit.
“I like you. You don't have to respond now, but I would be really happy if you agreed to go out on one date with me.” Jason, or rather as she had known then, Robin had asked her, his cheeks burning and the red going down to the base of his neck.
She had flushed in response, because until now, admittedly, Robin wasn't someone who she had frequently interacted with.
He was just someone whose name she had heard in passing.
“Can I get back to you on that?” She had asked, and he had nodded enthusiastically and skipped away. Which she had never seen him do. And for some reason, even Batman had an amused smile on his face, which made her feel even more flustered.
She had only agreed to the date because Alya told her to try it out, whether it was hero worship or simply an encouragement as her friend, she doesn't know.
“Why do you like me? We've never even talked to each other.” She remembers asking later that week, stumbling over her words because back then she wasn't as fluent in English as she is now, and the combination of the earnest gaze on her and the setting had made her even more flustered and a bumbling fool than before.
“That's no reason for me to not like you. Have you ever talked to all of your crushes?” He had asked in return, and she had shaken her head.
He waits for her to settle beside him before he starts talking in the most earnest tone of voice she had ever heard, “I think you're one of the kindest people I've seen. You're also brave, compassionate, strong, and really determined.” When he finds her blinking dumbfounded, he only offers her a small smile before continuing, “You don't have to keep helping. You could have given up your powers the moment you found help and you could have lived your life. You choose to stay by your city's side, you choose to stay every time. You're smarter than so many adult heroes when it comes to planning battle strategy. We've never talked, and yet you seem to notice when I'm having a bad day, and you leave me small trinkets and cookies. I love getting those.”
Marinette had never remembered feeling more flustered, heart thrumming against her chest happily.
The first time it happened, he hadn't even noticed it.
They had never been attached to the hip but they were still fairly codependent on each other. They still seeked each other out without thinking, they still found each other to sit by in a room, that's why when it first happened he didn't really notice it.
She had walked into the room, and easily found Kori and asked her to get dinner with her. He had just brushed it off as another one of the things he wasn't privy to, because you know, he was dead when all these relationships were formed.
It wasn't the fact that it happened.
It was the fact that it kept happening.
She kept choosing other people for meaningless things, they were never truly meaningless to him, and she kept choosing them without glancing in his direction. He would try to catch her eye as she entered a room, and it would always seem like she was already looking at someone else.
It's not like she stopped choosing him either.
She did choose him to do things with. They went on dates, they cuddled, and she was still the first person he went to when he found a particularly interesting read. That's what almost seemed to hurt more, that she still listened just as attentively whenever he talked, she never missed a single date. She still talked to him in a warm voice that made him melt. If she had at least outright done something to hurt him outright, later down the line he could have pointed to a memory and said, there, that's when you hurt me, but there isn't any such memory.
He would prefer something tangible to be there, for him to point a finger and blame.
It makes him feel guilty for feeling that way, because she’s still just as warm as she always has been.
“Does it ever bother you that we never had a fairy tale worthy start like your books usually have?” Marinette remembers asking one day, as they laid on the cold floor. Jason had been reading a book, tilting it just slightly enough for her to read alongside him, and it had made her curious once she started to go down that line of thought.
“What do you mean?” He had asked, like he didn’t understand, tone light and distracted from the words in front of him.
“In your books, there’s always a meet cute, or a story that pulls heart strings.” She had explained and Jason had simply hummed in response, “You’re a reader, through and through.”
He had glanced at her with a question in his eye, “That still doesn’t explain whatever question you’re asking.”
“I didn’t like you when I agreed to go out with you back then,” She had slowly admitted, “Would you have preferred to have a better moment?”
Jason had put his book down and sat up, looked into her eyes like he had been trying to figure out the cogs of a problem. Then he had said in such a satisfied tone that made her feel like her question itself was dumb, “Not really.”
He had paused to shift her head into his lap.
“I think it’s beautiful how different humans are. How different everyone’s lives are. I do love literature, the characters inspire you to be a better person, they inspire you to hope, and they inspire creativity in you. But, if it’s the same story again and again, it’s not as fun to read as it was the first time. So, I like our story. I’m glad you came to love me, like I loved you. But, if it’s bothering you that much, we can engineer a meet cute for us,” He had laughed, eyes twinkling.
She remembers thinking for a while before admitting to him, “No, I think I also like our story.”
The first time something actually hurts, it shouldn't.
It really shouldn't.
They had just gotten back from long separate missions. It was their first time apart from each other for so long after the ‘death’, it made him all anxious. He had been more distracted on the mission than he had ever been for a single mission in his entire life. Separation anxiety and all that he supposes. He would have preferred to not go on a mission for so long, away from her. But, he never would have known otherwise.
It had been their long standing ritual to go to a shitty theatre downtown, and watch whatever was playing on the screens,then come back home to make each other hot chocolate.
But this time, when he had come back, she had already stripped down to her civvies and carried several packets of marshmallows towards the manor. He had looked for her at all of his safehouses first, and his semi decent apartment, even her apartment and then finally he had decided to check the manor. She had beamed at him and it hurt because she didn’t mean any harm by it, she just simply thought about several other people too. Jealousy had come crawling up his throat, ugly and green, so quickly that he had been horrified with himself and squashed it down immediately. That was his problem, he firmly thinks, not hers. Never hers. Because while the world had kept spinning for her, and there were things she could have forgotten, it wasn’t like that for him.
When he had seen her herding all his siblings towards the home theatre, all of them having pillows in hand, his heart had pinched with hurt so passable, that he hadn’t known what to do. She had beckoned him over, and he had settled alongside her and watched as all of his siblings bickered with her over the choice of movie.
She was getting along with his family, he should be happy.
He hadn’t been replaced, she had simply made space for more people in her heart.
He really doesn’t know why it hurts.
He feels like it probably would have hurt less if they had simply acknowledged their little ritual, he didn’t even need to do it with her alone. They could have done it with everyone, and Jason still would have been happy.
She didn’t do anything wrong, but it sure as hell felt like it.
Marinette remembers being fifteen.
It was one of the worst years of her life. She doesn’t think anything else can ever top that.
She remembers getting the call when everything was quiet, almost like the world itself was mourning him. She remembers her mind going numb with shock, she remembers her legs giving out below her.
She was fifteen and her entire world had fallen apart.
Screw people who had told her first relationships don’t last, that she and Jason would eventually grow apart. Because to this day, she has never felt a loss to that magnitude, something that shook her core and left her bed ridden for days because the grief felt like it was weighing down on her physically. It’s the worst feeling that she’s ever experienced. She doesn’t know if she’s ever moved past it.
Marinette was fifteen when everything became too much, her friends became too much, too over bearing. The fights seem to last longer and exhaust every bone in her body, and tear out every muscle in her. She was fifteen when she was holding an entire city over her shoulders and hoping, praying, wishing that all of them would make it to the other side because the one carrying most of the weight had already grown brittle. She was fifteen when she first felt like she might not make it to the next day. She was fifteen when she had the lowest point in her life.
Jason feels so blessed to exist in Marinette’s presence.
She’s a warm soul, warmer than he could ever be. She has so much love to give to every single person in her life. She cares for everyone in her own special style, she loves them with all her heart and Jason feels tears gathering in the corners of his eyes whenever he thinks that. She’s beautiful in a way that people rarely are. She gives, gives and gives and never asks for anything in return. Like it’s ingrained in her very nature. She makes everyone the most thoughtful gifts, she knows just what everyone likes, she knows how everyone would prefer to be celebrated— because it’s always different for everyone, and she knows them.
And that almost feels worse, it’s stupid, Jason should not be feeling that way.
Because, on the surface, Marinette really hasn’t done anything to hurt him. She just— she just shifted. She still does things for him, but it doesn’t feel as warm as it was in the past. She still does things for him, which is what makes it seem worse. Because if she didn’t, Jason would know and then there would be something to be hurt about. But there isn’t. She still smiles like there’s power of the sun within her, she still sews small intricate designs into his jacket and she still laughs just as loudly.
There’s no way to know if he’s making this all up in his head or if the gap he feels is real.
Marinette remembers being hollowed out by grief.
Marinette remembers being sixteen.
Marinette remembers sixteen because she had thought that Jason would have been there right on the other side of the door to hold the shattered pieces of her and glue them back together.
Marinette remembers being sixteen and still not being able to move on from his death.
Marinette remembers being sixteen and feeling like her entire soul was missing.
Jason doesn’t know when she stopped looking back.
For as long as he could remember, he had always looked at Marinette. Looked for her in a room full of people, and she had always looked back. He would be doing something entirely unrelated, look for her across the room and find her already looking back. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s always looked at her, and she’s always looked at him. It was a warm feeling, and Jason knows that there's only a few others that could compare to it.
She still looks at him, but oftentimes it feels like it only happens when he’s in her line of sight. She still smiles just as easily, eyes crinkling beautifully, no indication of anything being wrong.
He feels something ugly crawling up his throat when her attention moves away from him faster than he would like, then immediately squashes it down because she wouldn’t like that. She shouldn’t have to deal with that. It’s his problem.
He wants her to look at him, please.
He hates himself for feeling so desperate.
She doesn’t love him anymore.
Marinette was seventeen when she didn't have a purpose in her life anymore.
She remembers standing over the clutter in her room with all the different jewelry in the room thinking that there’s no use for it anymore. She remembers thinking in relief that it’s finally over. Then, she remembers thinking in despair, why does she feel no interest in her creation anymore?
Marinette was seventeen when she had realized that she couldn’t bring herself to create anymore.
She was seventeen and exhausted of life, no energy to create because the one person who she wanted to show her designs was nothing more than a ghost. She was seventeen when she had finally accepted that she would never have him back. She was seventeen when she packed her bags and decided to live with the older super heroes in space.
Marinette was seventeen when she found herself somewhere where she had never imagined herself to be.
“She loves me,” Jason says, and when he had said it, he hadn't known that this would be the thing to finally break it out into the open.
“Not—” Not like that. Marinette catches herself before she says anything else, but Jason hears her anyway. It's not anything magically transported into his brain, he just sees the words forming on her lips before she stops them from coming out. He sees her stare longingly at a picture from their childhoods, he sees the difference.
Both of them freeze and no one else in the room seems to have noticed it.
That's when something in Jason's mind tilts and everything else falls into place because of that, oh. The world continues spinning, nothing stops like he had expected, everyone moves on without them like nothing ever happened in the first place. It’s like nothing matters and it was all in his head.
“I knew you didn’t love me anymore. I just didn’t know you knew too.”
The words come out softer, more vulnerable than he had intended.
Like he’s baring open a part of his soul for her to trample.
Marinette freezes, and there’s a particular look in her eye which he can’t describe but knows. That’s all he needed to know.
How could she not?
Jason's suddenly thankful that no one else is here to witness his humiliation.
He should have known. He really should have known already, he feels like the ground is opening beneath him and he’s falling right into it like someone cut his line. It was a childish thing to assume, to hope in the first place that she was still in love with him. Why would she love him now? When he’s so obviously morphed into a larger, uglier version of himself, both physically and mentally. There’s long, deep scars running up his arms, he’s bulkier in a way that makes him look awkward, and he’s imposing in a way that he takes up way too much space spiritually. It's the way the ugly green running inside his veins doesn’t make any of it better, rearing off in anger the minute something triggers him, the way that he resorts to shooting the person with green clouded eyes instead of thinking first, and the way that he feels himself filled to the brim with anger instead of love. Everything else has also been overtaken by the anger inside of him.
He knew that.
And her practically confirming it makes it feel worse. She obviously didn't love him, with the way she flinched when he rounded around a corner in front of her. With the way that she looked at him with so much emotion in her eyes, emotion that looked little less than love, but nowhere close to hatred. He had just thought she did that subconsciously, and not because she knew she didn't love him anymore.
“That’s not—” What I meant, is what Jason assumes she’ll say next.
He cuts her off and asks helplessly, “Is it not?”
She stares at him for a moment, doesn't say anything, which makes it seem like his skin is crawling with bugs because of her stare. Then, finally, finally, she finds whatever she's looking for in his eyes and says, “Come.”
Jason hates himself a little bit more because he follows her.
Marinette remembers days being hard.
Marinette remembers she had just burst out crying some days, when she couldn’t keep her emotions in check. At first, it was mortifying, especially when there were younger heroes under her now. Then, Marinette had realized that all of her peers were wonderful people. That they simply moved around her, giving her space when she wanted it, and sticking close to her when she wanted them.
When she thinks back to her last few months as a teen, she remembers finally feeling at peace that she can miss Jason while continuing to live for him.
Marinette is eighteen when her heart finally settles from where it had been shredded.
She’s also eighteen when she gets pieces of her heart that he had taken away with her back. She’s also eighteen when she vows to never let him go again.
Marinette doesn’t know how to talk to him.
Once upon a time, it would have been so easy. She would just flop down across him and start talking, and he would naturally listen. Marinette doesn’t know how to talk to him without hurting him. She doesn’t want to hurt him. Jason is still one of the most precious people in her life, and she doesn’t want him to leave. But he will leave, because he knows. She hadn’t realized that Jason would pick up on that, she had tried so hard to make it work but she can’t. It had only been wishful thinking.
She would cut out a piece of her if it meant that she could prove that she couldn’t love him anymore.
God knows she’s tried her hardest.
Love should come easy, and it doesn’t anymore which is killing her slowly. It’s not as simple if she says she simply fell out of love, because that’s wrong. She didn’t fall out of love. She loves Jason with all her heart, but she doesn’t love in a way that he deserves to be loved. They’ve molded into two different people that don’t fit together anymore, hardened into particular shapes jabbing beneath each other’s ribs in a way that’s uncomfortable but they don’t want to move.
“It’s not you,” She cringes because she really doesn’t have anything better to say, “It’s me.”
Jason laughs in response, and it’s nowhere close to feeling warm, in fact it sounds like it’s being said through shattered glass.
“Liar,” he says, and she flinches.
What?
Marinette pulls her eyebrows together and demands, “You cannot be thinking that this is your—”
“Isn’t it? We should never have gotten back together,” He laughs and it seems so insensitive, so hurtful, like a football being hurled at her face that she doesn’t know what to do, because no matter what, Marinette would never take back those years of her life. And she probably deserves all the hurt he’ll eventually throw back at her.
She asks slowly, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice because this is about him, not her, “We shouldn’t have what?”
He shrugs at her like it’s obvious, and she feels like they’re in two separate conversations instead even if they’re not, “We shouldn’t have gotten back together,” He says softly like she’s the one that he’s afraid of breaking, but Marinette thinks that she might have already broken him and she hates herself to bits for it, he doesn’t deserve any of that, “I’ve changed Marinette.”
He laughs helplessly in a way that makes her want to cry.
“You don’t deserve to be tainted by me.”
And suddenly, it clicks into place for her. She hates herself just a little bit more when she realizes that she might have done that to him because she spent so long running away from the conversation when it should have been months ago, and not when she’s hurt him this much.
“You’re a good person Jason. You have to know that,” She takes his hands into her own and squeezes them, “Look at me.”
She waits for him to meet her eyes, she looks at the softness that’s still in them and thinks that there’s no way he’s tainted.
“You’re a good person,” She repeats again firmly, making sure to keep her gaze unwavering because she doesn’t want Jason to doubt that even a single bit, “I loved you. You’re an amazing person Jason. It’s not because of the pit. It’s not.” She denies.
It’s because of her.
Jason’s voice breaks as he asks, “Then why don’t you love me now?”
She doesn’t deny it, no. Because Jason doesn’t need anymore lies from her. She loves him, how could she not? She loves him with all her heart, he’s her other half, someone she would never give up. But she doesn’t love him in the way that he wants to be loved.
Marinette doesn’t—
“Jason,” She finally breathes out, “Jason, I grieved you.”
She squeezes his hands again, this time, nails digging into his palm.
“I grieved you,” She says, “When you died, it took me so long to walk around like there wasn’t a missing limb on my body. Sometimes I wondered if grief was physical, it got so bad, Jason.”
“I loved you, I love you. But I grieved you for years, Jason. And that is something that can never be taken back. I was so happy when you came back, that the sadness went away for a little while. People change, Jason. And my mind couldn’t accept that, I couldn’t process you being by my side, not when you had been gone for so long. Somewhere along the way, I started living with a ghost. You don’t deserve that, you deserve so much better. You’re a beautiful person Jason, inside and out,” She tries to say this with as much conviction as she can because she doesn’t want him to doubt it, “You’re so strong. You deserve someone who’ll cherish you with all the love you deserve, not someone who’s still weighed down by grief.”
She scrubs her face clean of all the tears that had fallen.
“I love you, so much. I don’t think I can handle losing you again. I love you in a way that you love your soul, I love you in a way that there’s no way I could ever unlearn loving you. I don’t think I can be apart from you, Jason.”
Jason’s body is trembling when he engulfs her.
“Okay,” he says.
Okay, I understand. Okay, I get it now. Okay, it’s going to be okay. Okay, we’ll figure it out.
“I don’t—” for a tiny moment she fears that maybe he’s going to tell her he can’t be near her anymore, “I don’t think I can be apart from you either.”
For a moment, it feels like they’re fourteen again, bodies tangled together and trembling in the cold night.
“We should have gotten therapy before jumping into a relationship again,” He says above her.
She chuckles wetly in response and just tightens her hold on him as she agrees, “So much therapy.”
“I love you,” She croaks out when her tears run out.
“Love you too,” Jason responds, and maybe, just maybe, everything will work out. Maybe they won't go on dates anymore, maybe their relationship won't be the same, but at least he'll still have her by his side.