[Jason is not without empathy or sympathy. What she tells him doesn't fall on deaf ears, no matter how much he wants to raise his hand and signal her to stop. She had said she would explain, and though he made it clear he didn't want an explanation, it would be cruel to dismiss her now. Plus, he wants to hear, he wants that comparison, even if he doesn't know what to make of it.
Starfire in his world had gone through a great deal of trouble. Jason hadn't memorized her file. He memorized her, and he knew her well ... in a very boyish way. It's hard to not have an attraction to Starfire at the age of fourteen. (Even now, he's attracted to her, but he pushes that out of his mind.)
He can't confirm or deny for that reason. What does shake him for a moment is the mention of Dick (it has to be him, it has to be), and the fact that his name "always escapes her." Is that possible? His gaze narrows when she says that, and he doesn't know what to make of it. And when she realized that the world hadn't suited her, that her own values hadn't suited her, she removed herself from it. It was an action that he understood. To a degree, he had done it. He made the choice to do exactly that, hadn't he?
But then she goes on. She tells him that the other Jason Todd is what broke her out of that isolation. Not only is he a significant figure in her life, but he's that important. An anxious feeling twists inside of him, making him feel strangled by the fact that he feels like he should be responsible for her. The sudden pressure from that makes him want to dart out of his room, but he can't. It's his home. She doesn't belong here.]
I'm not him, [he insists, visibly uncomfortable.] Look—I get it. I know what step comes next. [Kindred souls. Friendship. More?]
But that isn't what comes next for me. I don't do ... [Jason waves a hand between them.] ... this whole thing. [Friendship. But he does here, doesn't he? Somehow. Somehow people have made it so he does, and she'll realize that quickly.] Not with people from our world. [There, that rectifies it.]
Or a similar world. If you know a Jason, you know that I like to keep these things separate.
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Starfire in his world had gone through a great deal of trouble. Jason hadn't memorized her file. He memorized her, and he knew her well ... in a very boyish way. It's hard to not have an attraction to Starfire at the age of fourteen. (Even now, he's attracted to her, but he pushes that out of his mind.)
He can't confirm or deny for that reason. What does shake him for a moment is the mention of Dick (it has to be him, it has to be), and the fact that his name "always escapes her." Is that possible? His gaze narrows when she says that, and he doesn't know what to make of it. And when she realized that the world hadn't suited her, that her own values hadn't suited her, she removed herself from it. It was an action that he understood. To a degree, he had done it. He made the choice to do exactly that, hadn't he?
But then she goes on. She tells him that the other Jason Todd is what broke her out of that isolation. Not only is he a significant figure in her life, but he's that important. An anxious feeling twists inside of him, making him feel strangled by the fact that he feels like he should be responsible for her. The sudden pressure from that makes him want to dart out of his room, but he can't. It's his home. She doesn't belong here.]
I'm not him, [he insists, visibly uncomfortable.] Look—I get it. I know what step comes next. [Kindred souls. Friendship. More?]
But that isn't what comes next for me. I don't do ... [Jason waves a hand between them.] ... this whole thing. [Friendship. But he does here, doesn't he? Somehow. Somehow people have made it so he does, and she'll realize that quickly.] Not with people from our world. [There, that rectifies it.]
Or a similar world. If you know a Jason, you know that I like to keep these things separate.