[He's-- shocked. Again. Doesn't understand why anyone would want to hear about that, least of all Robin. The Court told him that it wasn't important anymore. It's sure not the interrogation he's expecting, he expected something more about the Court itself, or the plans for Batman and Robin and the Waynes.
His muscles tensed with apprehension. It's not harmful information, as far as he can tell, but he doesn't really want to say it. The Court had told him to throw that all away, but he couldn't bear to forget it all, and he'd locked it away instead.]
D--... Richard. Richard Grayson.
[He bows his head in shame, stares at his hands, like he'd already committed another mistake just by saying it even if he'd really wanted to tell someone who he was. Saying it out loud, as if it might become reality-- it made him think of the circus, and the trapeze, and the smell of kettle corn and funnel cake, and his mom and dad who were dead and gone forever and he hadn't even been allowed to go to their funeral, and the lion tamer and the clowns and the strong man who was always very protective whenever they set up for another show, and bright colors and flashing lights and smiling people, and the big elephant that would scoop him up and cradle him in her trunk when he was small enough to fit which he's certain he'd be too big for it now, and the old ringmaster and that horrible night and the dreadful feeling of betrayal and loneliness and pain when they dragged him away forever.
His heart was beating faster and he didn't have any control over it. He missed it so much, and he felt so tense and his mouth was so dry that it physically hurt. But he's surprised how much he doesn't want to let go, and wants to talk about everything even more, even if he doesn't actually say very much at all.]
No one important. [His voice was terse-- he was doing everything he could not to shake and show his weakness. At least it's not a lie; he really doesn't know why the name would be important to anyone but himself.]
no subject
His muscles tensed with apprehension. It's not harmful information, as far as he can tell, but he doesn't really want to say it. The Court had told him to throw that all away, but he couldn't bear to forget it all, and he'd locked it away instead.]
D--... Richard. Richard Grayson.
[He bows his head in shame, stares at his hands, like he'd already committed another mistake just by saying it even if he'd really wanted to tell someone who he was. Saying it out loud, as if it might become reality-- it made him think of the circus, and the trapeze, and the smell of kettle corn and funnel cake, and his mom and dad who were dead and gone forever and he hadn't even been allowed to go to their funeral, and the lion tamer and the clowns and the strong man who was always very protective whenever they set up for another show, and bright colors and flashing lights and smiling people, and the big elephant that would scoop him up and cradle him in her trunk when he was small enough to fit which he's certain he'd be too big for it now, and the old ringmaster and that horrible night and the dreadful feeling of betrayal and loneliness and pain when they dragged him away forever.
His heart was beating faster and he didn't have any control over it. He missed it so much, and he felt so tense and his mouth was so dry that it physically hurt. But he's surprised how much he doesn't want to let go, and wants to talk about everything even more, even if he doesn't actually say very much at all.]
No one important. [His voice was terse-- he was doing everything he could not to shake and show his weakness. At least it's not a lie; he really doesn't know why the name would be important to anyone but himself.]