Author's Note: No, I will not let you catch your breath!
"He is…" she grips her chest so harshly that he thinks she's gonna hurt herself, "dead?"
The utter shock, the disbelief, the pain etched so deeply into her features only makes him feel even more sick than he already does. He wants to take it away from her, even if he doesn't have a semblance of understanding of what the fuck is going on right now.
Never in a million years would he ever think that Starfire would show him such a random and old picture from years ago that he didn't even have, shaking and crying. Practically begging for forgiveness.
What does he have to forgive her for? Ever?
His confusion only doubles as she recoils from him, a fresh wave of grief twisting her beautiful face around. He can't help but cry silently with her; regardless, it hurt to see her this way. It fucking hurt.
He reaches out for her, but she closes in on herself, falling onto her bed and curling into a ball.
"How can he be dead?" she cries into her lap.
He kneels down in front of her, stroking her hair, kissing it.
However she found out about him… how did she not know?
"Star…" he says once her sobs quiet down. "He passed away a long time ago."
At that, she jumps. The desperation and questions in her eyes bore into his. She wraps her hands around the base of her throat, looking so much older than she should. "Richard…" she says quietly, her head shaking.
He's scared of what she's going to say. He freezes in place and holds his breath.
She shakes her head even harder, tears leaking back down. He doesn't know what she knows, but clearly, she knows something he doesn't.
Something like relief and pity settles onto her face.
"Richard, he is alive."
It's his turn to recoil.
He falls backwards, her words blowing him in the fucking chest.
He thinks back to the hickey he saw on her neck, to the bite mark on her side.
To the last time he saw Jason, lying in his casket.
To the murderer from last night, his walk more familiar than it should be.
It had to be someone fucking with him, some psycho from Gotham — some imposter who knew too much. A clone would be more plausible.
There's no way Jason Todd did not die from the explosion.
And there's no fucking way he came back to life.
His arms feel like they're ready to give out behind him, hands pressing hard into the floor. But before he can, she's crawling onto his lap, taking his face into her hands and forcing him to look at her.
"Richard," she moans, shaking him. It rattles his brain and he has to stop her with rough hands around her wrists. "I found that photo in Jason's home. I saw him not too long before that," she says, voice crawling into a whisper. "He wanted me to find it."
His head is spinning. "What?"
"I met Jason months ago. The night I got hurt… he saved my life."
He's hearing her words, but his brain isn't allowing him to process any of them. They jumble around in his head. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth.
She pushes his hair back from his forehead, over and over, an attempt to soothe him. He hadn't realized his hold on her went slack. Somehow, he's still sitting up, slumped over as her fingers thread through at hair at the nape of his neck.
She pushes harder into his lap, trying to wake him up. He's lightheaded, spinning. He doesn't feel real; his head doesn't feel like a part of his body.
"I also — X'hal," she chokes on the crack of her voice, and he's vaguely aware of tears wetting his skin. But he couldn't tell whose they belonged to. "I found a gun. I-I-I believe that he is the one who shot me. Who killed all those people! And I—"
He feels her knees on either side of his ribs. She rocks him forward until his face falls onto her chest, and all he can register is the wild beating of her heart bursting through it.
"You must believe me," she whines, body racking with tremors. "You must, Richard, I would never lie to you!"
Why is she telling him things that he already knows?
He cuts himself out of the haze and wraps one arm around her back. He places his hand on her neck and squeezes her there. "Of course I believe you, Star," he says into her ear. "I know you'd never lie. Don't worry. I believe you."
For her sake, he had to suspend his disbelief.
Maybe someone is claiming to be Jason — and since he never had the balls to tell her about him, she never knew to stay away.
That's on him. Not her.
And once again, his choices — his stupid ass choices — they hurt her. Again.
He forces his mind to clear. Forces himself to hold her tight and turn them around so his back rests against the bed. Once he does, he wraps his hands around the bottoms of her thighs and lets her sink onto his chest.
He trails the fingers of one hand up and down her back, shushing her until her cries die away.
He flattens his hand against her lower back while the other threads through her hair. He tucks her head underneath his chin.
"I believe you," he says again, trying to get her to believe him. "I trust you. I know you never meant any harm, Star. I know." He kisses the top of her forehead, rocking her gently. "I believe you."
She folds in on him, her silent sobs returning. It breaks his heart again and again and again.
And once she leans over to the side, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, he sees it again.
"Hey…" he brushes his fingers over the mark on her side. "How come you didn't heal?"
It's been more than a week, hasn't it?
She sniffs and looks down to where he's touching her. "I… I do not know why. It did not really hurt."
He doesn't need to ask who did it to her.
He pushes the thought away before it drives him fucking insane.
He takes hold of her waist and the back of her thigh before pushing her onto her knees above him. She gasps in surprise as he plants a kiss onto the ugly mark.
"Now it'll heal," he says as he helps her settle back down on his lap.
She sits up and places her palms on his chest. "You… you are not upset?" she asks, looking so young and so sad.
"No," he tucks her hair behind her ear.
She gives him a look like, are you kidding me? and it makes him smile. "Not at you," he adds.
Her chin wobbles and his lips immediately twist into a frown. "B-but I did something awful. I told him things I should not have… I was such a fool."
He ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it. We've been dealing with it, haven't we?"
"He hurt Raven, Beast Boy, Cyborg… me. He hurt other people. What if he hurts someone else? Because of me?"
He already has.
"Why are you making that face?" she whispers in a panic, holding his jaw.
He almost forgot — she can see everything now. Even more so than she already has.
"Because… how can you blame yourself? It's not on you."
He can't be sure — he still doesn't know the whole story.
But as far as he knows, there hasn't been any murders in Jump since the last time. He had called Cyborg right after the one he witnessed in Gotham to make sure.
The murder in Gotham…
Ask your girl.
Who the fuck is this guy?
And if by some miracle, it is Jason, why hadn't he come to him by now? Why not their father? He would know by now if Jason was alive, wouldn't he?
"None of this is your fault." It's mine.
And the look she gives him. What can he do? How is she supposed to feel?
She's so beautiful that it breaks his heart into pieces.
"Why are you making that face?" she says again.
"What face am I making, exactly?"
He tries not to smile at the blush flooding her cheeks.
Why did it take all of this to get us here?
"I apologize… I—" she cuts herself off and stares behind him. "The sun is rising."
But he doesn't look out the window. He has the sun in his lap.
How corny could I possibly fucking get?
"Perhaps we should go to sleep," she says, beginning to lift herself off of him, but he stops her before he can stop himself.
He takes her hips in his hands and stares into her eyes. Hoping she knows.
She swallows thickly and stares back, eyes so big and bright that they almost burn.
"I can't keep letting you get away," he reasons.
Way to take advantage of a fucked up situation, dickhead.
He shakes his head with the sudden thought. "I'm sorry…"
"Why?"
"What aren't I sorry for?"
She's so warm on him. Even the pity that laces her expression — she warms him all over.
She tilts her head, brows furrowed slightly. "Richard…"
"I should've told you who he was. Is. Fuck, Star, I fucked up bad. And I keep seeing just how much everyday. When I see you and I don't even get to talk to you… really talk to you. And I can't even be mad about it because it's on me. And I can't be mad at myself anymore. 'Cause I don't know how to handle it. I always hurt somebody else."
He wants to kiss her sadness away. Forever and ever and ever and ever.
"I don't deserve you. Or your forgiveness. But God, Starfire… Koriand'r. Not only do I want it, I need it. I need you by my side. I need you happy and okay. My best friend. In the whole entire world… the bestest friend I've ever had. That I'll ever have, ever. Koriand'r, there's no words that are going to describe how much I love you."
He can't tell when the tears started falling for either of them. He's raw and the wounds are so open, burning, hurting. But he bleeds out for her. And he'll do it for as long as she'll allow.
"I'm sorry. With everything I have. For every single time I ever hurt you. I regret it from the bottom of my heart."
He thinks she may have said his name, but it comes out as a whimper. He gives her time to collect herself, afraid to move or to touch her anywhere else.
"I want to forgive you. Richard, I want to. But I cannot."
Could he break any further?
He chokes back even more tears. "I understand."
"I w-want to, believe me, please," she hiccups.
"Of course I do."
And he does. Of course he does.
"What I feel for you, I have not found anywhere else in all the life I have come across in this universe. I have never had a friend like you. I have never loved any other living being the way I do you."
He can't help the hope that sparks in his chest. She… she…
"You love me?" he whispers, afraid to speak any louder.
Her smile is bittersweet, as well as her laugh. "In ways I do not believe have names."
She wipes at her eyes and he takes the moment to breathe in deeply.
"So that is why… that is why, I cannot comprehend the pain you caused me," she sighs, sounding so exhausted. "I can understand why in my mind — I can see why you took the actions you did. But my heart cannot. My heart is selfish. It feels the need to protect itself. From you. I gave you so much, Robin, I—" she cuts herself off.
"It's okay. You'll get used to it," he tries to smile reassuringly, but he's sure he failed.
"I know you did not have the intent to hurt me — but I also know that you knew that's what you were doing. And you were hurting yourself as well. And I tried my best to help you, but you would not allow it."
"I didn't want you to suffer anymore than you already were. I didn't think that I deserved for you to care for me the way you did. Even though I craved it."
She smiles sarcastically. "Not your wisest decision."
He grimaces. "Definitely not. But at the time, it sure as hell seemed like it."
She stares off into space, and he watches as the morning light slowly pours over her.
"What're you thinking about?"
"How you humans could set yourselves free, but you deliberately choose not to."
He cracks a smile at the way she words it. He often wonders about how aliens see human beings. He had a feeling her perspective is a whole lot kinder than others.
"We're stupid. We start wars and kill each other. A lot of us don't even believe that life on other planets don't exist, even though you're living proof."
She giggles, and it mends him. "But my people also do such things. We hurt each other. We kill each other. We are aware of the existence of other life forms, but we are not accepting of them. We can be as cruel as humans, if not more. But I knew right from when my time began here, the true difference between our worlds."
"What?"
"We speak to one another. We communicate. We are empowered by our emotions. We love so freely and openly, and it is never questioned. But here, emotions are deemed as a weakness. And it frustrates me — why must you hinder your true self? Do you not want to live your life freely?"
"Of course I do. But, y'know… like you said. We're not like that. It's not easy to start when you've been taught to keep it all in. Especially with a job like this…"
She slides her hands back up to his face and cradles it. And with such great sincerity, she speaks. "I hope that you learn to set yourself free. It is such a beautiful thing to know and practice."
He adores her. No, that's not even the word.
The word may not exist at all.
"Thank you."
"I am angry at you," she says softly.
He gulps. "I know."
You have every right to be.
"But I do not want to be."
"But if you are, you are."
"I cannot live with it."
"It goes away."
"Does it truly?"
"It depends on whether or not you decide to let it go." He raises a brow. "If you let yourself feel it all and then choose to carry on."
"I could never handle anger. Or hate." She sighs. "I could never understand it."
He chuckles. "'Cause you're better than all of humanity. You don't live with hate in your heart."
"But I do, now," she mumbles, and her hands drop to his shoulders.
"But it won't stay forever."
"What if it does?"
"You won't let it."
She doesn't reply; she stares wide-eyed at him, gripping his shoulders tight.
"The line between love and hate is thin. Very, very thin. Sometimes you just love something — someone so much that it just… falls over. But you… you're allowed to feel that. You're not bad for it. You're still as good as all the love you have."
If anything, you're perfect.
"Okay," she finally says after a long pause.
He raises his brows. "Okay?"
"I shall believe you," she winks and he dies, "just this once."
He nods, dizzy. "I'll take it."
"Okay," she says again. "Okay," but the tears are streaking her beautiful face again, and all he wants is for it to stop.
"Starfire."
She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut.
"Look at me," he pleads, a breath. "Look, Star. I love you. I love you, I love you…"
He lifts his knees, straightens his back.
Holds her so, so close. Her wet eyelashes flutter against his skin.
"I love you," he breathes against her lips.
He kisses her.
He kisses her fully, deeply. And he pours his whole entire self into it.
He breathes and drinks and loves, loves, loves her.
And when she kisses back — her hands so soft in his hair, body so perfect against his — his heart swells with such emotion that it pours out of his eyes.
Her tears taste sweet as they fall between their lips.
He wraps himself around her, trying to protect her from the world. Trying to make up for the ways he failed her before.
And he kisses her.
Kisses her.
Kisses her.
Long past the full rise of the sun.
When they break away, he kisses her everywhere else. He holds her to his chest and finds it absolutely impossible to let her go.
Why would he ever want to?
He stands up and hooks her legs around his middle, kissing her all over her face as he takes his time turning to her bed to lay her down.
She hums as he leans over, her back hitting the mattress. She's slow to unwind herself from around him. She keeps her eyes closed.
He slides off her boots and leaves them on the side.
"Thank you…" she mumbles.
He presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you everything. But sleep now, Koriand'r. Sweet dreams," he whispers against her cheek.
Before he can pull back, she nuzzles her nose against his own cheek and presses a long and lazy kiss to it.
"Sleep," he says again, finding the strength to pull himself away from her.
But he's really not that strong.
He finds the scar from that night — the one that refused to heal. He kisses it.
"Now that'll heal, too."
He catches her smile as she falls into dreams.
