All We Ever Knew (Mrmista!JB blitz)

Question after question rattled around inside Jasper’s brain, each one fighting for his attention, linked to one another by a common word.

Why?

Why was he here, at the steps of the Justice Building, standing just outside the male tribute’s, Mitchell Laws', door, instead of back in his shop, scamming the poor negotiating another round of deals?

Why was there an empty spot on one of the shelves back at the store, a circle of dust where a watch should have rested?

None of it made any sense. Under normal circumstances, there would be no lack of inventory, no missing presence behind the Treasure Trove counter. The Reaping happened every year, and every year, Jasper calmly watched two damned souls rise to the podium and start the countdown that would culminate in their deaths. Afterwards, he returned to his parents’ shop in the merchants’ part of town, treating the day as nothing more than a passing disturbance in his otherwise perfect reality.

And yet-

And yet.

And yet, here he was.

Why?

Why was this year special?

It was obvious, of course. The tribute meant something to him. Not emotionally, of course. The man kid on the other side of the door was just another thief, right? A nobody, and a failed one at that.

And yet –

And yet.

And yet, he was perhaps the most successful of them all. He, Mitchell Laws, had stolen the typical predictability out of Jasper’s everyday routine, and had walked away with a free watch in the process. Sure, the watch had practically been worthless, but the burglary had gone so poorly that a typical robber would have been lucky to escape the store a free man, much less one enriched by a new acquisition.

And yet, Mitchell had done just that.

Why?

Because as much as Jasper reveled in his abilities to manipulate anticipate people’s actions, always having the upper hand had grown monotonous. Even the most cunning of his friends posed little challenge to him. The only uncertainty in his life stemmed from a chance encounter with a wannabe criminal, and though Jasper did not realize it, he yearned for that unpredictability.

He recalled vividly how he’d let Mitchell go, picking up the watch himself and tossing it to him. “Your reward for providing my daily dose of entertainment,” he’d remarked.

Standing there, with his hair combed neatly to the side, Jasper took one last moment to look at himself before heading in. Ripred, I had to get dressed in all black today. For fuck’s sake, it’s not his funeral.

And yet, wasn’t it?

Jasper had to face it, the Mitchell Laws sitting in the visitation room would not be coming back from his trip to the Capitol. At best, he would be a changed man. At worst….

He could just turn away and leave, cut his losses and forget that the two had ever met. It would be so easy.

And yet –

And yet.

And yet, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t return to the day-in day-out nature of his work without saying goodbye to the one thing that had thrown a dash of life into his existence, a chance to experience the unexpected.

Bracing himself for what he was about to see and what he would say, Jasper put a hand on the door, took a deep breath, and stepped through to the other side. There was no going back now.

Mitchell looked… relaxed, not at all as Jasper had expected. With his feet up on the desk in front of him, head tilted back, he looked more like a kid sitting in his last class of the day, awaiting the final alarm bell, than someone about to be shipped off to die. It was only when their eyes met that Jasper noticed the discomfort in them. There was no doubt that this was no classroom, that the only ringing in the future would belong to cannons, not bells. There was an understanding that passed between them in that moment, before either of them had let out a single word.

Finally, Mitchell spoke, formally acknowledging Jasper’s presence. “Mitchell,” responded the Robinson boy, nodding politely. He could have said more, probably should have, but he didn’t.
He waited for Mitchell to speak instead.
Why?

Because Jasper needed to see that the Mitchell Laws who’d introduced some spontaneity into his life was still in there, not yet broken, not yet gone. Because when Jasper had given him the watch Mitchell had failed to steal, he had given away a part of himself in exchange for a bit of Mitchell. And he wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Mitchell spoke, and at first, his words hit like daggers. “You came for the watch, didn’t you?” he asked. Was that what he thought? That Jasper would venture all the way to the Justice Building for a worthless piece of wrist jewelry? Then again, Mitchell didn’t know it was worthless. (“Like a raven, going for all that glitters.”) And, now that he thought about it, Jasper realized it wasn’t, for it was the object that tied the two of them together.

That didn’t make the sting any less painful, however; only intensified it in fact. In their first encounter, Jasper had ridiculed Mitchell, treated him like a lesser being. (He is. He’s nothing but a failed thief.) But he wasn’t one. And yet, Mitchell had taken Jasper’s words to heart, perceiving Jasper as nothing more than a materialistic, narcissistic, grade A asshole.

And then Mitchell smirked, and the weight Jasper had failed to notice was suddenly lifted off his shoulders. He stood up straighter and smiled a little. “You already know. Figured your thieving little hands had held onto it for long enough.”

The reply was unexpected. Instead of laughing along, potentially giving some excuse about pawning it off at a different shop (Ha!), Mitchell produced the watch from his pocket (Has he been carrying it on him since that day?) and placed it on the desk in front of him. “Take it,” he said, a resigned tone echoing from his lips. He was breaking on the inside, Jasper could tell. He hadn’t even left the district, and already, the Capitol was changing him. “Looks like I won’t need it anymore.”

And Jasper’s smile slipped. He wouldn’t have any talk like that going on here. If he wanted to have a morbid conversation, he would have gone back to the shop to deal with the desperate customers willing to trade the shoes off their feet, if they still had any, for a chance to feed themselves for an extra few days. “Won’t need it?” he asked instead, eyebrow cocked in his signature pose. “And why’s that? Planning on snagging a better piece off some fancy Capitolite wrist?”

He shook his head, in fake disapproval. “Guess your memory is as poor as your burgling skills. I told you, remember? The watch is yours, a token of my appreciation for your entertainment.” Jasper pretended to slip as he said the last word, flailing his arms and legs.

"Just don't go losing it, alright?" he said, straightening up. "The next one won't come so easily." Mitchell was breaking down in front of him, silently and behind a careful façade. The least Jasper could do was salvage a bit of the boy’s old self. The alternative, letting Mitchell shatter into pieces, was unacceptable. After all, there was nothing unpredictable, nothing remarkable or entertaining at all, about a husk of a man.