Clark has something to say

In Jason's field of vision, the person in front of him was still the supreme head of state wearing a crimson cloak and cold blue eyes. Just seeing that face, a wave of evil fire could not stop rising from the bottom of his heart.

After the poisonous fear gas was blown away, his head gradually cleared up a bit, but there were not many thoughts left to vent. When he heard a puff pastry say... It's wrong to kill people, bang Clang—disappeared completely.

It's like a Godzilla who was destroying the world just a second ago suddenly pulled out a small flower from its claws.

Jason's eyelids twitched, and he felt that the worldly desires were gone. Even if Dick Grayson did a lap dance in front of him, he would not be able to awaken his worldly desires.

Under Jason's unpredictable gaze, Clark raised his hand cautiously. He didn't take Jason's words seriously. After all, under the influence of the fear gas, it was normal for the bat cub to do strange things.

Then he watched the other person go back listlessly at a speed visible to the naked eye. If there was a quilt, he would definitely slip into it without love, and wrap himself tightly in the quilt.

The little reporter looked confused: "?"

Jason wiped his face decadently, touched the scarecrow on the ground with his toes, walked to the corner without saying a word, leaned his back against the wall, and slowly slid down to the ground.

He drooped his head, buried his face in his arms mournfully, and said in a muffled voice, "There is no need to send the scarecrow to the hospital. Arkham always has the best psychiatrist to apply for. The doctor who is still alive heard that he and Harley Quinn Because they are alumni of the same university, their professional level is still passable.”

Clark: "..."

Why do these top talents like to work in Arkham!

Even though Clark was so puzzled that he wanted to go to Wayne Manor to ask a Gotham man to do research, but he never asked questions related to Arkham. Clark picked up the scarecrow on the ground a little depressed, and flashed to the medical staff at super speed. room, shoved him in front of that Mr. Harley Quinn's alumni, and quickly flashed back.

Jason was still crouching in the corner, he had raised his head, his blue eyes were staring blankly at the empty space without blinking.

Clark deliberately stopped at the door. He coughed twice, indicating that he was going in. When he was about two meters away from Jason, he stopped, not sure if he could still approach him.

Jason gave him an odd look.

"Alas." He sighed, turned his face back without saying a word, Clark paused for a few seconds, thought for a while, and slowly moved over.

"You..." Clark tried to say something that would not step on the opponent's minefield, but he didn't know how wide Jason's minefield was.

Too difficult, he thought.

The relationship between him and Jason is not as close as that of Dick. Since Jason was first adopted by Batman, he has been regarded as a Kryptonian worthy of vigilance in the heart of the second-generation Robin. He has not yet solved this relationship mode. But they waited for the news that Bruce Wayne's adopted son died unexpectedly.

When Jason was resurrected, most of his life focused on fighting against Bruce, and tossed to the end, he simply wandered around the universe with his friends.

Even though Jason and him have interacted more recently, Clark is still not sure if he can get the ticket to talk to Jason.

Jason sighed again: "Speak up if you have something to say."

The presence of the heavy armor on his body became stronger and stronger. He flicked the armor on his wrist with his fingers, straightened one leg, and began to remove it with concentration. After a while, half of his arm was removed.

Clark: "It's just... I've always wanted to ask, what's wrong with you?"

Jason's movements froze suddenly.

The little reporter's voice was soft and soft, and there was a bit of grievance: "Didn't you tell me before that as long as you don't interfere with you, you will give me an explanation from beginning to end?"

Jason's face was blank: "...ah."

He had completely forgotten about it.

He quickly glanced at Clark from the corner of his eye, and the big blue man grabbed the corner of the cloak with his hands, holding the piece of fabric crumpled, waiting for his answer very seriously and nervously.

Didn't even dare to take a breath.

Jason: "..."

He shook his fingers anxiously, wishing he could shoot his weak and talking self to pieces.

He has been mourned at home these days, but he also knows what this memory is about. He doesn't need to communicate with people who also have the memory, and he can be sure that everyone will swallow everything that happened in that world.

No one wants to add a psychological burden to Clark. The clown's head has been smashed. A group of people holding the script can't make a HE ending. Is that still plausible?

...But the world view he had spent several years building with great difficulty was blown to pieces with such a "bang--", besides that, he himself was also thrown into a mess.

On the one hand, the psychological problems caused by that memory were mixed with his original problems, which made him feel that he was incurable. What was more entangled was that he couldn't figure out his attitude towards Clark.

The world before the nuclear bombing of the metropolis was a beautiful day that Jason could not imagine with all his imagination. Everyone lived happily and carried out their own ideas. It can be said that every day is the most beautiful day.

Even that Jason Todd has truly reconciled with the world and greets the sun every day happily.

At that time, his relationship with Clark was already very good, so the self-swish made a place for his small family circle, and then put the big blue one in.

The relationship between him and Clark didn't contain any water, and it was so warm that he couldn't help but curl his mouth just thinking about it.

...This has also directly caused him to be so confused that he can be called disturbed. On the one hand, he wants to stay away from Clark and hide in a place where he will never meet him again. sense of security.

After all, I still don't want to.

Anyone who has had a warm sun is reluctant to hide quietly in a dark and cold corner. No one will alienate the sun because of a bad memory, and only blame themselves for not protecting him.

When his eyes wandered around, he found that Clark was still looking at him, his blue eyes were bright and clear, without a trace of haze.

Jason: "..."

He bit the bullet and came up with a bunch of excuses, but no matter how he thought about it, he didn't think it should be.

Finally, he raised his hand abruptly, grabbed Clark's wrist forcefully in retaliation, took a deep breath, and said quite unreasonably, "I regret it!"

Every word is sonorous and forceful, with a strong voice.

Clark stared blankly, and spoke intermittently in a hurry: "You, no, how could you... You promised..."

Jason nodded, and made a fuss and swelled a little: "Yes, I just regretted it!"

He was sure that Clark had nothing to do with him, and he would not do anything to him, except for accusing him with dog eyes with his blue eyes open, there was no lethality.

He just swelled up a little, and his gaze swept across the blood on the floor, and he suddenly remembered the lost first edition book, and suddenly felt something pricked his heart, stinging and stinging.

Clark wanted to continue to say something, but seeing Jason's appearance, he was silent for a while, and smiled helplessly: "Okay, listen to you."

If it was Dick, he would have been yelling at him about how depressed he was, but Jason probably preferred to be alone, and he shook his grasped wrist.

"The fear poison gas may still remain, no matter what, I will take you back to check..."

"I don't have any books." Jason interrupted him in a low voice.

Clark looked at Jason uncertainly. The black-haired young man's voice was low enough that he wouldn't even hear anything if he wasn't paying attention. After confirming that he was talking to himself, he paused: "Uh... what? Book?"

Is the book the secret code of the Bat family?

Jason was stunned for a moment, as if he had realized something: "That's right, you don't know."

He stood up listlessly, and walked towards the door, his footsteps were much heavier——Clark's response made his extremely weak desire to talk die in the cradle.

thump—

A muffled sound.

He suddenly covered his forehead and stared straight at Clark. Just now, the other party flashed in front of him with super speed and stopped him.

And he hung his head absent-mindedly, and bumped into it directly.

Damn, his skull is going to be smashed through!

Clark shrank back guiltily, and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I was too anxious and forgot to adjust the hardness of my body—let me see."

He pulled Jason's fingers away, and found that the forehead of the other party was flushed, and touched it carefully: "It will be fine in a while."

After finishing speaking, he lightly blew out his frozen breath, which felt cool.

Jason's mental construction, which had been tense for a long time, was blown away. He tilted his head: "Those books were collected by Bruce and me. They are the first editions I like. They are the most unique things in the world and are irreplaceable."

His tone of voice was flat, but Clark was completely taken aback by the most unique comment.

He can understand what it feels like, the meaning of this kind of thing... It's probably like the football box left by his adoptive father was burned in a fire, but he has a lot more than the football box-for Jason, Maybe that was all he had.

Just as the football box symbolized the happiest time in his life, the books symbolized a past that Jason would never have access to.

Clark said dryly, "I'm sorry."

Jason waved his hand, met Clark's eyes, and in the understanding and tolerant eyes of the god on earth, he unconsciously said something in his heart: "Ham, it's nothing, I already knew that I couldn't keep anything .”

After he finished speaking, he couldn't help regretting: "If I had known this would happen, I should have stored them elsewhere, but I like to open them up and have a look—if I had known, I would have bought a few copies and put them away."

The tall and straight figure of the black-haired young man was bent a little, and he was really annoyed: "Or don't put them together, so there are still a few books left."

"...Maybe I should collect some other first editions."

Even so, he doesn't plan to collect any more. The meaning of those books lies in being with a specific person at a specific time. Other first edition books are just books.

Clark listened quietly, and said abruptly, "I see."

Jason said unhappily, "You know again..."

He suddenly felt light under his feet, and before he could react, he was tightly wrapped by the red cloak.

Jason's face was full of horror: "——Wait! What are you doing!"

Clark rolled his eyes.

"--go home."