[So Jason has no reason to be afraid. It's another way they're alike. An unnatural connection with death, albeit a different one.]
[Hunter wants to comfort him. Somehow. Some kind of gesture. But he spent a lifetime of physical distance between himself and others. People found the Golden Guard intimidating. His uncle wasn't often gentle.]
[He's started to have friends now that he's more comfortable touching, that he's more comfortable being touched by, but he never knows when it's okay. What's okay. There are times it's obvious like when Gus had been crying after they'd gone through the portal door to the human realm, and realized they couldn't go back.]
[But Gus was so young and realized home - and his father - had been left behind. He'd been grieving in the moment and the pain was right there in his voice. The last thing Hunter had done before being drawn to this Earth was throwing an arm around him with Willow and holding him tight.]
[Jason is an adult. He's not grieving right now. It's an old hurt. And he'd been touched in ways he hadn't want to be touched before. He had even been tortured.]
[So the way Hunter reaches out is somewhat indirect.]
[He snags Jason's sleeve in the fingers of his good hand, winding his fingers into the cloth slightly. It's a substitute for putting his hand on his arm, something less intense and personal during a revealing moment.]
[He doesn't make the connection to the way Belos used to dig his fingers into his shoulder, into the cloth of his cloak, smearing it with slime. How intrusive that was. How this is its infinitely more gentle, less invasive inverse.]
[His voice is raspy with emotion.]
I'm so sorry. That still has to be a lot to carry with you.
[He doesn't ask why it happened, who did it, how he came back. It doesn't matter, if they're talking about the unpleasant realities of after. About what's monstrous or not, about whether something after death is unnatural...or just life.]
I was lucky in - in a lot of ways. I'm not...him. The original. I'm a copy, so I don't remember him dying because it wasn't mine to remember. That's the same reason I also fortunately don't have memories of the other Golden Guards dying, either.
[Remember how he talked about his predecessors in the past, Jason? The ones that suffered a horrible fate? Remember them?]
Just the ones I saw in Belos' mind.
[He hasn't let go of his sleeve, like a child afraid to lose a parent in a busy mall. And he's still filled with a trembling disquiet.]
no subject
[Hunter wants to comfort him. Somehow. Some kind of gesture. But he spent a lifetime of physical distance between himself and others. People found the Golden Guard intimidating. His uncle wasn't often gentle.]
[He's started to have friends now that he's more comfortable touching, that he's more comfortable being touched by, but he never knows when it's okay. What's okay. There are times it's obvious like when Gus had been crying after they'd gone through the portal door to the human realm, and realized they couldn't go back.]
[But Gus was so young and realized home - and his father - had been left behind. He'd been grieving in the moment and the pain was right there in his voice. The last thing Hunter had done before being drawn to this Earth was throwing an arm around him with Willow and holding him tight.]
[Jason is an adult. He's not grieving right now. It's an old hurt. And he'd been touched in ways he hadn't want to be touched before. He had even been tortured.]
[So the way Hunter reaches out is somewhat indirect.]
[He snags Jason's sleeve in the fingers of his good hand, winding his fingers into the cloth slightly. It's a substitute for putting his hand on his arm, something less intense and personal during a revealing moment.]
[He doesn't make the connection to the way Belos used to dig his fingers into his shoulder, into the cloth of his cloak, smearing it with slime. How intrusive that was. How this is its infinitely more gentle, less invasive inverse.]
[His voice is raspy with emotion.]
I'm so sorry. That still has to be a lot to carry with you.
[He doesn't ask why it happened, who did it, how he came back. It doesn't matter, if they're talking about the unpleasant realities of after. About what's monstrous or not, about whether something after death is unnatural...or just life.]
I was lucky in - in a lot of ways. I'm not...him. The original. I'm a copy, so I don't remember him dying because it wasn't mine to remember. That's the same reason I also fortunately don't have memories of the other Golden Guards dying, either.
[Remember how he talked about his predecessors in the past, Jason? The ones that suffered a horrible fate? Remember them?]
Just the ones I saw in Belos' mind.
[He hasn't let go of his sleeve, like a child afraid to lose a parent in a busy mall. And he's still filled with a trembling disquiet.]