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#dick was joking but barbara really just fucking demolished him
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The batfam members as random unhinged things my friend has said, pt. 3:
Tim: Did you know that if you die in the hospital of which you were born in, your average velocity is 0
Dick to Babs: You’re controlling and it’s toxic
Babs: So you choose your friends like you choose your dad
Dick: *chokes*
Steph: The Irish...? I get it. Straight up died after a potato famine. Yeah I get that.
Jason, on the phone with Alfred, the same day as he got in a car wreck/got beaten up (my friend had been in a car wreck but we’ll go with whatever the hell red hood had gotten into that night): hold on Alfred I’m gonna burn myself
Alfred: maybe... don’t do that?
Jason: no it’s fine I knew what I signed up for when I decided to cook this meal
Alfed: Master Jason, your body has already been through enough this week. you just need to chill
Jason: nah it’s fine
Alfred: your hand has already been literally burned from your incident
Jason: nah it was just having a bruh moment
Duke: what would tony the tiger say right now
Damian: it’s not malpractice if I meant to do it
Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy: Don’t threaten me with a good time! (ironic)
Batman, The Dark Knight, the embodiment of Vengeance: Don’t threaten me with a good time! (serious)
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Innocence died screaming, honey I should know
Here’s the thing: For all his talk of Gotham being a life-sucking, happiness draining shithole, leaving it had never been truly an option on Jason’s mind. It was his shithole of a city goddammit, the grim dirt streets he would die on. It was his home, the blood on his veins. This city had its claws deep into him, and leaving, especially leaving never to return, had been simply impossible, did not compute to him.
Especially now, that Jason was getting along better with the Bats these days. He still didn’t, and never would agree with Bruce regarding his no-killing rule. But things were better, or at least he thought they were. His presence was expected and even accepted. There were some awkwardness and silent nobody knew how to fill, but there were also jokes and eating junk food together after patrol. Sure, there were a lot of snippy comments but he made those too, gave as good as he got, and Bruce still didn’t quite trust him, not to the extent he did with the other, though that was just a given, he had made peace with it, he still killed, after all, a little suspicion was an acceptable price to pay for it.
Self-righteous, holier than thou bat.
Still, there was an uneasiness on his chest whenever the pointed looks got too much when they would start questioning his actions and his plans like he hadn’t been trained by the world's greatest detective like the rest of them and League of Shadows on top of that. Forgetting that Jason had effectively taken control of the East End in less than two months, and without any of them noticing.
The good parts didn’t lessen the rage-hurt out when Barbara sneered at him, acting like he couldn’t be trusted in the field, like the fact he had issues, that he cared about the victims because he had been one made him incapable of being rational, turned him into something that was eternally compromised. Like he was a mindless raging monster, who would shoot to kill at mere provocation.
He had been, once, fresh out of those green waters, traumatized, angry, afraid, and replaced. He had been a child, too, didn’t that count for something?
Their veiled accusations of insanity, that he had a problem, that needed to be handled like he was a fucking dog, the angry gremlin claims that he was unhinged and the only reason that they kept him around was to keep an eye on him, it all made Jason feel queasy, made him feel less than human.
It made him wonder how truly welcome he was. Was he welcome or they were just trying to appease their guilt and keep a loose cannon from the streets?
But there were undoubtedly good things too. Moments that made it worth it. His relationship with Steph and Duke, and surprisingly, Replacement was getting better, even though the first two were not around as much as he would like. The nights they had spent chewing off some of the undoubtedly brilliant but assholes teachers while demolishing mountains of homework had been fun, and Replacement-Tim was quite a sass master, now only if he could convince the kid to take a step back from WE so that he wouldn’t have a heart attack before he could drink legally.
Replacement, however, was why he was here. Here being diner on the border of the Bowery and Robinsonville, The Raging Duck, a new place that Golden Boy wanted to try, make a family bonding experience out of it, Jason was sure. Replacement had twisted his way around with words in a shape that made it impossible for him not to come. His saving grace was that Jason had already made clear that he couldn’t stay long, under the pretext of having to verify that month payments collection from the Bowery.
Which was goddammed good thing because this whole outing had been a mistake. The last couple weeks had been rough, with the stress of studying and writing applications for his master degree, the couple of murders that almost led to a gang war between the Falcone and the Russians,  plus a decoy staged by the Riddler, as his newest scape plan, that had taken too long to crack leading to an accident that had killed three people and would have killed a lot more if Jason hadn’t said fuck and put bullet holes on some goons heads. This in turn led to an inevitable argument because of Batman's continuous incapacity to see the necessity of his actions while on some level recognizing that was the only poss0ible decision meant that tension had been higher than usual.
Therefore, putting everybody in a room together was definitely not the best idea, Dickie! The last ten minutes certainly proved so, what had started as an easy-going conversation about their early on mishaps of the field, which included a hefty number of stories where the main theme was “And then I said Fuck Batman – With varying degrees of success” that had started as a split-second change of subject in order to avoid a fight breaking out, had turned into passive-aggressive attacking Jason. The worst part was that Jason wasn’t even sure they were doing on purpose.
Did the even realize he was sitting right next to them? Or was he just a ghost?
“… and then the fantastic Robin fell three stores down only to be needed to be saved by the incredible Spoiler! So, listen to me kids, if you’re going to say fuck Batman you should at least be sure there is something to break your fall before you jump.”  - Steph finished the story with a flourish, going back to her waffles.
“That was a level of stupidity that I wasn’t aware that you were capable of Replacement. Really, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.
“Please, as if you weren’t the first one to ignore an order just to fuck with B, Jason. There’s a list. The Incident with the Falcone. Killer Crock latest scape. The entire shit show that was last week. – Tim shot back, mulish, poking at his fries
And every single of those missions was a raging success.
“Which is the one involving Babs, back when she was still BG, you know the one she always mentions, because I don’t know what you did dude but she’s still pissed at you for it.”
“Oh, I know! Bruce forced them to work together on that one, it was a drug-smuggling operation that involved kids. Jason jumped in instead of waiting for her signal. Needless to say, it did not end up well. Babs was so very pissed.”
Yeah for the assholes that thought using kids as drug mules was a good idea. BG was just made the street rat had a better plan than her
“Is that why warehouse 25F is a gory, burned-out mess?”
“Nah, that came later, during that corruption case that nearly put the Comish in the hospital. Or maybe it was the one involving that Nazi Arts dealer?”
“Is there a difference? They always end up in unnecessary explosions. Todd’s need for dramatics and overuse of force are well documented”
Because you can talk about overuse of force, demon spawn.                    
“Robin. Less explosions. Trying to help. Hurt.”
“Yeah, he was trying to help Cass, nobody is denying that the thing is Jason desire to be a little shit and prove Batman wrong is way stronger than his drive to help people, and even though there were far less explosions back then, both he and innocent people have gotten hurt.”
How you’d know? You weren’t around back then Dickface.
“So, we can agree that it’s basically a Pavlovian response for him at this point. Your stubbornness and desire to say Fuck Batman no matter the consequences have been able to surpass death Jason, and if that it’s not a feat, I don’t know what is. Congratulations, really!” – Steph summarized.
He had been holding up fine until that point but he just didn’t have the strength to it anymore, every word out it Tim's mouth felt like the blow of crowbar shattering his ribs, chocking on his own blood because a Batarang slashed his throat. He felt faint. He felt dangerously close to crying.
“I have to go.” – Jason got out of his chair.
“Jason…” – The pitying and yet reproachful note on Dick’s voice made his skin crawl.
“I said I couldn’t stay very long. Some of us have stuff to do. You know criminal empires to run, places to blow up, kneecaps to shoot.” – He doped a twenties bill on the table.
“Todd. Cease being childish. Just because you are unable to accept your failures, and the fact that you were incompetent and arrogant enough to be captured by an enemy does not mean you should incapable of accepting constructive criticism.”
“Not being childish gremlin. I do have a criminal empire to run. And I do take constructive criticism, preferably from people who know what the hell they are talking about. You know people that are more than the “blood sons” of people that are greater than themselves. Noise midgets, not so much. Bye.”  – Jason out of the dinner before any of them can reply.
See you never again.
He doesn’t know how he gets back to his closest safe house. It’s a reasonably good one. He likes this one. He focusses on the things he likes. Hardwood floor. The light green paint. On the things, he doesn’t. The shitty heating. The fact that the cabinets doors don’t shut all the way.
Breaths. Slowly. In and Out. Counts to three hundred. Breaths again.
The tears still prickle on his eyes. His chest feels hollow. His throat is dry. He doesn’t have the strength to move from where he’s sat on the floor, his back against the door. Going a few rounds with Deathstroke had hurt less. It certainly never made him want to crawl under his bed and stay there until the world forget he existed. Of course, Slade had also never blamed for his own death.
Even though his own father had. Reckless, overly aggressive, incapable of following orders, loud-mouthed Robin that got what he deserved, Bruce had said. Maybe not to his face but he had said it. Then again it had been his fault, hadn’t it?
He takes a few more breaths, tries to push his emotions back, locking them deep, and walks to the fridge, pours himself a glass of water. Drinks it. His mind goes back to the conversation. The glass shatters in his hand.
“Oh, fuck!”
He goes to the sink, to clean his hands and throws the broken glass into the trash. Lucky there were only some minor cuts that don’t need stitches even if they hurt like a bitch.
Take that universe!
Still, he wraps them in bandages since he doesn’t fancy cleaning blood out of his sheets. Sleep, however, doesn’t come easily that night, and the time he doesn’t spend tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position to follow to try to fall back asleep in, he spends waking up from dreams that leave him feeling like he’s constantly falling, sharp terror waking him each and every time.
There is no rest for the wicked though, and so he takes off by late morning and goes to check o on the rest of the gang, makes sure Antony is running things smoothly. All in all, it’s pretty boring, with enough paperwork to make a bonfire, but it does the job of taking his mind out the things for a while. Patrol is uneventful, which is a welcome respite, and Jason doesn’t do much more than stop a few muggings and beating up some creeps.
During that time, he keeps an ear out for the bats, especially Dick since he’s not anywhere near the mood to listen to another of the boy wonder lectures about how “Damian is just a child; you shouldn’t take what he says seriously”, especially those came with the addition of being delivered in that tone that screamed, “even though he’s right”. But he must have gone back to his turf because he sees no hair nor hide of him or any of the others.
The next two nights are very much a repetition of that first one, with little sleep and little action, so much so that a paranoid and exhausted part of him gets a bit terrified and so he ends up calling Roy just to hear the genius talk about whatever crazy project he’s been working on lately. If the redhead has any idea why Jason is calling him at four in the morning, he doesn’t comment on it and simply talks until his friend's breath has even out.
This way when the sun comes up the next day, Jason drags himself out of bed and heads straight to the shower, the cold water helps ground him back into his body. Still feeling like shit but at least knowing the difference between dream and reality he eats his breakfast while checking his messages and it’s more than a little bit shocked to see a text from Bruce asking, as in there is an actual please in it if they can talk about a possible case with a few crossed wires. There’s even an invitation to stay for dinner alongside with it, which makes him wonder if Bruce hit his head a little too hard the other day, or if Alfred finally made good on his promise of finding a drug that made him less emotionally stunned.
No matter the cause, the message leaves him hopeful enough that he answers with a yeah, I’ll be there by five.
He arrives at the Manor door fifteen minutes past five, just in case, greeting Alfred with a smile that the old butler easily returns. They make some small talk as the older man demands him to at least drink a cup of tea before heading down. Still, they part at the entrance of the cave and Jason takes those final steps alone.
“Sup, old man?”
“Jason.” – Bruce answers, his back turned, typing at the bat computer, probably filling some reports.
“C’mon B, you’re the one who called me unless of course, you somehow have been possessed and that please was you asking for help, in which case, give me a second and let me call the Martian Manhunter, you gotta give a bit more of information.” – Jason kept his gaze on Bruce’s back, his breath steady, he was not rambling thank you very much!
“There been some talk about an escort service in Diamond District that works as a front from money laundering. I think you might know some of the girls.”
“Little bit out of my way. Maybe you should check with Cat.”
Bruce’s eyes were shining, and the line of his mouth meant that he was finding it funny and Jason was filed to the brim with a wave of warmth and nostalgia. It made him feel like a kid again, it made him like Robin again, like magic.
“Maybe we should.”
“Oh gross! Let’s go back to the ever-existing cases of corruption and gross old man please?”
“Isabella McGarvey”
“Know the surname. Any relation to Ophelia McGarvey?”
"Her older sister I believe, records show that she moved from the East Side two years ago but didn’t take her sister with her because she was a minor…"
Most of the afternoon passed that way. With the Batman and the Red Hood checking financial records, discussing disappearances and police reports in an amiable tone, full of teasing.  It was a welcome change of pace being the one providing the answers to all-knowing Batman for once. So, he took his time explaining the inner workings and the shady dealings of the Alley, preening at the attention and the approval, something he would deny until his second dying day.
Perhaps the only dark spot in the otherwise bright day was the fact that Jason kept purposely having to avoid looking at the southeast corner of the cave, at the glass cage that seemed to hover over them.
Refusing to acknowledge that some part of Bruce would always believe he was dead
“There maybe be a loose end might be worth exploiting but I don’t know how long that window would be open: There was a shooting, a few days ago, near the Bowery and Robinsonville, no cameras, three dead, the assailant left no evidence behind.”
“Don’t know what to tell you Bats, last time I was there I was with your kids, didn’t hear anything, neither did mine. I mean, I could ask but this is Gotham, murders are pretty much the norm. Unless those guys are part of something bigger, I got you nothing.” -  Jason shrugged, already calculating the possibilities of why this is relevant and coming out with nothing.
Damn all-knowing paranoid bat.
“They were. Trafficking ring. Middleman.”
“There is no trafficking ring in the Alley”.
Of that he’s certain.
“There is not. Because those men were killed before they could take anyone. But they were known for it, and they were asking the sort of questions that could ping on your radar.”
“Well, I haven’t heard anything. I’ll make sure to pay more attention, update some protocols.” – Jason answered, already planning to investigate it.
If they were acting as a middleman for someone roaming around then that someone would send more to scoop the territory out and he would be prepared when they came, regardless of what else could be there. There were no trafficking rings in Alley.
“Or maybe you did and decided to take care of it your own terms”
The abruptness of the question was so earth-shattering that he took a few steps back to regain his balance.
“Jesus Christ Bruce if are gonna accuse me of murder you could at least have the decency of start with that. No, I did not kill them. If any of mine did I haven’t heard of it. But as far as I’m concerned is no great loss.” - He succeeds at sounding nonchalant and enraged, hiding the fact that the question felt like a bucket of water, leaving his cold and shaking.
So, this is why Bruce actually called, so he could question Jason about his latest failure, his latest disappointment in Bruce’s eyes. Of course, it was, and he was a fool for ever thinking otherwise. For letting himself hope that Bruce was trying, that he wanted to rekindle the relationship they had when Jason still wore those green panties.
“Where were you at 2:30 in the morning, three nights ago?”
“What?”
Please god, everything but this. I can’t do this again
“At the time of the murder, where were you?
“In a dinner with your kids.” – Jason’s voice was nothing more than a whisper as if all the air had been pushed out of his lungs.
Why you don’t believe me? Why you don’t trust me?
“Damian said you left early, earlier than that, because he got home at 3:00. It takes at least half an hour to get here from there.
“Safehouse a few blocks away, then. Sleeping. Bruce, please”.  – Jason was begging now, voice raw and full of hurt.
“Can you prove that?”
"The hell is wrong with you?!? I already told you: I. DID. NOT. KILL. THEM. When have I ever not taken credit for the people I’ve killed?"
“What’s going on?”
And of course, because his luck could not be worse, that was the Perfect Grayson coming down the stairs. He could feel the headache forming behind his eyes. He did not want to deal with this shit right now.
Was it too much to ask for the ground swallow him whole?
“Nothing! Bruce’s just spent the last five minutes pointlessly accusing of murder! Can you get the fuck out so we can continue discussing it?”
“You were near the scene of the crime, you have a motive, the means, and a history.”
“Wait you killed someone?”
“No! Keep up, Bruce is just being a dick, you know like you usually are.”
“Is a valid concern”
“Is a piece of shit that is what it is!”
“Can someone please explain?”
“Bruce thinks I killed three people after I left the dinner the other day.”
That what you did after you left? It’s that what you meant by shooting kneecaps? Jay… I know that you were angry but this…
“Jesus Fucking Christ Didn’t I just say its bullshit?”
“You said that?”
“It was a joke”
“You have motive, means, no alibi and now your brother is telling me that you left because you needed to shoot someone. What do you want me to believe?”
“THAT I WOULDN’T LIE ABOUT IT!”
“If you were planning only to main them, if your anger got the better out you, as it has before if you did it out impulse, and is trying yo hide it.”
“You know what Bruce? You’ve already made up your mind so I will do us all a favor and get myself out. You can’t trust me? Well, I can’t trust you. From now on there will be no bats at the East End. If you are seen, you will be shot. That’s how trigger happy I fucking am!”
He pushed passed Dick and Bruce, the world was tingled with pit green glow, his ears were roaring, no sound, only rage, and loss. Every step he took was calculated, his breath was short, measured. A of violence ready to blow up at the mere provocation held together only by the barest threads of sanity and humanity and the training Ducra had given him. Roy’s voice babbling at him. Kori’s booming laughter. Kyle ridiculous art. Donna’s everlasting sass and warmth.
Somehow, someway he made home without turning Gotham into a bloodbath, and the relative he felt at activating the security protocol was fastly overtaken by fear. He hadn’t had an attack like that in over three months. Hadn’t let the Pit burning so strong in his veins in so long. Hadn’t felt that disconnection to reality since his early days out of the Pit.
Just the idea of what could have happened in case he lost control made Jason grab the nearest bucket and puke. He stayed there, pressing the palm of hinds to his eyes, heaving.
It didn’t matter, because it didn’t happen.
His phone rang, and if it was anybody else calling, he let go straight to voicemail, but it was Talia’s ringtone and she didn't call jus for kicks, so he presses answer.
“If I told you I didn’t kill a man would you believe me?” – Jason blurts out before he can stop himself, red coloring his cheeks as he realizes what he just said, cursing himself for his stupidity.
“Of course. Why would…I see.” – Talia’s face goes from neutral to confusion and finally anger in a matter of seconds. – “Your father does not know you at all Habibi, and that, rest assured, is entirely his fault. He’s too caught up in the image he made of you to be able to see you as truly are.”
“Batman being a stunned idiot, who can look past his own reasoning of the world? What an earthshattering idea T! – Jason says sarcastically trying to cover up his earlier emotional outburst. -  Anyway, got a reason for calling?
“Do not play coy with me, Jason, it’s unbecoming. Regardless, I do not believe Gotham has done you good. Moreover, I do not believe your father's actions towards you have been in any way helpful to your recovery and growth.”
“What are you? My therapist?”
“I would not be against for you to see one, but I would not force you either. Your choices, as always, must be your own. Besides is my understanding that to be effective therapy must also involve privacy. Another thing that its unlikely to come by if you are to remain here.
“Gotham needs me. The Alley needs me, God knows the Bat can’t handle this shit, they don’t care and even if they did the Alley would never trust them” – It wasn’t as much a rebuttal as it was an excuse
“They do, but you are of no use to them if you are constantly emotionally compromised by the rash and thoughtless actions of those who do not understand you and do not seek to. Loyalty is a gift that must be not be given lightly and they make ill use of yours while reaping the benefits of it. Perhaps it’s time for them to learn how to much you do for them. The absence does make the heart grow fonder.”
“You’re telling me to leave.”
“I’m telling take a step back. You’ve done tremendous work, but there’s more to you then violence. The petty criminals and drug dealers and the pimps are all properly terrified, your minions are capable enough that they can keep your operation running without your direct involvement. Rest. Recover. Come back when you are ready. Besides, you do have your master’s degree to consider, don’t you?”  - Jason blushed, Talia wasn’t one to give compliments that she didn’t mean, and she did have a point, but…
But what? What did he truly have here? It had taken less than ten minutes for Dick convince Bruce, based on nothing more than a few throw away words Jason had said when he was angry and hurting, that Jason had killed a man and once that decision had been made no amount of evidence would make Bruce turn around in his favor. The others probably already knew what had happened and just as likely had decided to stay away from him from now on. After all, if he couldn’t take a little teasing without blasting someone’s brains out then he was certainly no better than the crazies in Arkham, to them.
What Talia was offering has the peace of taking a walk without being judged by the path he chooses to walk on, let the dust stele until bygones were bygones and he could look at Dick’s- Holier-Than-Thou face without breaking every single bone in it.
What did he have to lose that he couldn’t take back later on?
“You do realize that this will take quite a bit of work and resources, right? – Jason could almost see that pleased little smile of hers spread on Talia’s face.
“You do realize who you are speaking with don’t you Habibi? Let’s get to work.
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