Jason never felt comfortable in suits - as a kid they had fit too big in places on his awkward frame. And now they fit awkwardly in different places - stretching tight over his shoulders, pinching at his waist when he tried to button them up. And ties had always felt something like fastening a noose around his neck. But when this time of year rolled around, he shrugged one on without his usual griping and complaining, meticulously checking the position of his tie in the mirror as he fastened it.
The rosary beads he tucked into the pocket of his jacket werenât his motherâs - heâd lost most everything that belonged to her when he went into care. But they were close enough to the ones he remembered her having, enough that he thought she might like them. After everything he knew of death, he didnât believe in an afterlife - not when one had never been granted to him - but she had. And that was worth enough to keep her in his thoughts on the anniversary of her death. Just in case he was wrong.
âIâm heading out soon.â Jason called through to the living room where he could hear Rory moving around. He smoothed down the lapels of his jacket as he stepped through. He didnât keep diligently to attending mass - attending it frequently as they could had been his motherâs wish, but it hadnât much stuck with him. After he moved in with Bruce it had felt wrong to replace her with his new parent in something that had been so important to her. And then when he stopped believing entirely heâd had no desire to go at all. But there were always a few services around Thanksgiving, and he made an effort to go to one of them since he moved to Central City, too far away from Gotham to reliably visit her grave.
âI, uh,â He fiddled awkwardly with the cuffs of his sleeves as he avoided Roryâs gaze. âI know itâs not like... fun, or anything. But I thought Iâd offer if you wanted to come with me.â
@auroraxjettâ
