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Jason glared at his successor.
It was ineffective, mostly due to the helmet hiding his expression. At least, that's what Jason chose to believe.
The brat was staring at Jason looking mildly inconvenienced at worst. Which was kind of annoying as Jason was pointing a gun at him.
Sure, it was a prop gun, but the kid didn't know that. Jason had put in a lot of work to make the gun look as real as possible.
Jason used his free hand to slowly take off the helmet, revealing his Talia Approved™ glare in all its glory.
The kid didn't faint, or gasp or do any of the things a person is supposed to do when someone comes back from the dead. At least according to the telenovelas Jason's watched.
No, instead the brat stared for a moment before his face lit up.
"Jason, thank Diana!" His successor exclaimed in relief. Jason lowered the gun, staring at the kid in confusion.
"Hi?" He said, then shook his head. That wasn't how a crime lord was supposed to sound. "What?" He growled menacingly. There, that was much better.
Tim went up on his tiptoes and looked straight into his eyes. It was kind of creepy, yet not in a way that made Jason want to pistol whip him. "Can you help me with my monologue?" He asked, widening his eyes slightly so that he looked like a particularly spooked owl.
Jason blinked. He was starting to think this was all some sort of fever dream. Maybe something Ivy cooked up?
"No." He said, after a long, awkward pause. "Why would you even–"
Tim frowned. "That's why you're here isn't it?"
"Why would I break into the Tower to help you with your monologue?" Jason asked.
"I–" the kid cut himself off, seeming to realize the fault in his logic. "Then why are you here?" He grumbled.
"To…kill you?" Jason said slowly.
He wasn't actually going to kill the kid, that would be dumb. He was just going to scare the other Bats into believing he was. Quite a good plan, in his humble opinion. He'd already placed a fake dead body in the Memorial Hall, just to save time.
Tim tilted his head. "You don't sound so sure."
"You threw me off!" Jason glared.
"Well, can you help me with my monologue while you get back into the zone or whatever?" Tim rolled his eyes.
Teenagers. Jason shook his head, steadfastly ignoring the fact that he was also a teenager.
"No." He said flatly.
"Ugh, Gotham villains are useless! None of you ever help!" Tim glared at Jason for a moment, spun on his heel and stomped off back to the kitchen.
"I'm an anti-hero." Jason scowled. "Hey! I'll show you a monologue you little shit, just wait."
-
"Cut!" Jason said. It was the twelfth time in as many minutes he'd had to say it. "You're not putting enough emotion into it." He frowned.
Watching Tim perform was like watching paint dry on a wall. Plain, white paint on a boring smooth wall in a generic stock photo home.
Tim frowned back at him. "I'm trying."
"Try harder." Was Jason's– admittedly ruthless– reply. "Where is my emotion, Tim? Are you contemplating your mortality or filing taxes? Again!" He demanded with a sharp clap.
It was something he'd picked up from Talia, assassins were a weirdly skittish bunch so loud claps were good for scaring them into action. Or just making them flinch.
"You're very critical for a guy who hasn't taken drama in three years." Tim crossed his arms, crumpling his script a little as he did.
"You asked for my help, brat." Jason scowled. "Anyway, I had a great speech planned for tonight before you ruined everything."
Jason had spent a good few days drafting it. He even had Talia look over the final copy. She deemed it adequate, which, by Talia standards, was basically a standing ovation.
"Maybe you just weren't committed enough." Tim said blithely, not noticing the green likely leaking into Jason's eyes.
Not committed enough? Jason had hacked the Tower, carried a gallon of fake blood through the zeta and memorized his handwritten eight page monologue in preparation for today.
He had dressed a dummy up in Robin clothes and painted bruises on it.
Hell, he had even polished his helmet for this shit.
"I can still go back to killing you." He growled.
"You're already killing my spirit." Tim glared back at him.
Apparently, the babybird didn't like being told what a talentless actor he was. But it had to be done and clearly none of the Bats had the heart to say it. Cowards.
"Which is, surprisingly, almost as satisfying." Jason mused, vaguely registering the green fading away.
"Why don't you do your monologue?" Tim said, his grumpy frown reminded Jason of the chronically pissed off cat that basically lives on his fire escape.
Speaking of which, he'd need to pick up some salmon sticks for Darcy after he wrapped things up here.
"I don't want to make you feel insecure about your lack of talent." Jason said honestly.
Unlike Tim, he was an amazing performer. He was Alfred approved and everything.
Tim gave him a flat look. "You've been doing that for the past twenty-three minutes."
"Huh. Good point." Jason slapped his hands on his knees before standing up, he ignored Tim's snort at the action. Kids these days have no respect.
With his prop gun in hand and spite in his veins, Jason began reciting his monologue.
-
"You had a father that looked after you–"
"Did you do any research about me before coming here?" Tim cut in, effectively ruining the dark, tense atmosphere Jason had created.
Jason snarled. "Shut up– wait, what is that supposed to mean?" He blinked in confusion.
"Nevermind, go on." Tim waved him off, leaning back in his chair.
Jason's eyes narrowed. "Tell me."
"No." Tim said primly.
"Timothy." Jason growled.
"You'd know if you'd bothered to research me." Tim scowled at him.
Jason rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been busy."
"So you were just gonna barge in here and say all this stuff without even knowing if it was true?" Tim gave him a disgusted look. "Sloppy. Even Bane would have done some recon before monologuing."
Jason hated that the brat was right. In his defence, he had a lot on his plate. Becoming a rogue was way harder than becoming a hero.
“Your dad doesn't look after you?” Jason pressed.
Tim hummed in reply.
"I could kill him." Jason offered.
Tim raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit of an escalation."
"You don't seem to mind." Jason said.
Tim shrugged, making a so-so motion. "Eh, I don't know him that well anyway."
Jason groaned. "You concern me and I hate it."
"Continue with your under researched monologue." Tim said.
Jason glared, but obliged. They were getting close to his favourite part anyway.
-
Jason let a single tear trail down his cheek, tilting his head up at the ceiling. "I did whatever he asked–"
Tim snorted. "Okay, now you're just outright lying."
Okay, maybe Jason didn't do everything Bruce asked of him. But that wasn't for Tim to point out.
"Like you would know." Jason wiped away the tear. His talents were wasted on the little gremlin.
"I followed you every night, so, yeah, I do." Tim's smile was smug, like the cat that had swiped something off the counter.
Jason's eyes widened. "You did what?"
"Yeah, I stalked you," Tim rolled his eyes as if Jason was being unreasonable. "It's not even that creepy, I was nine."
"You were a baby?" Jason froze, realization dawned on him. "You were the camera kid!" He pointed at Tim accusingly.
He remembered coming across a tiny kid with wide owl-like eyes and a camera too big for his hands.
"Hi." Tim smiled sheepishly.
"You bit me, you little shit." Jason glared at him.
"I did what I had to." Tim said, utterly remorseless.
"You broke skin." Jason hissed.
"Eh." Tim shrugged.
"And stomped on my foot." It fucking hurt too. For someone so tiny, the kid had a mean kick.
"I didn't want you chasing me." Tim said. Jason valiantly resisted the urge to shake the menace until sense fell out.
"I was going to take you home, you lunatic."
"Yeah, you were a real goody two shoes at times, are you trying to make up for that with the whole," He gestured at Jason. "Look?"
Jason did not like his tone.
"Just be quiet." He took in a breath, getting back into the zone. Monologues were easier than trying to make his successor see sense. “I–”
"Did I really break skin by biting you?" Tim's eyes were bright as he asked.
"Yes." Jason ground out through clenched teeth.
Tim grinned. "Awesome."
"I fucking hate you." Jason snarled.
"Aww, you sound like my dad." Tim placed a hand on his heart, wiping away an invisible tear from the corner of his eye.
Green leaked into his vision once more. "He won't be a problem for much longer." Jason murmured.
"What was that?" Tim's eyes sharpened and he leaned forward.
"I did whatever he asked–" Jason recited, in hopes it would distract Tim from his father's imminent death.
It did.
-
"They said I wasn't good enough to be Robin–"
"Who said that?" Tim's eyes were cold, his voice a low, icy hiss.
Jason paused, surprised at his successors’ sudden flare of temper. "Don't worry about it." He said.
"Tell me." Tim's knuckles went white around his bo staff. He looked more ready for a fight now than when Jason had been pointing the prop gun at him.
"I'm not sure I should." Jason said cautiously.
Tim's eyes flashed dangerously. "Give me their names, Jason."
"No."
"I'll find them anyway." Tim hissed.
"Are you a supervillain? Is this your origin story?" Jason questioned. He hoped not, because then it would completely overshadow his own villain arc and Jason had worked way too hard on that.
"Not yet, I'm trying to be nice for Bruce." Tim said. His eyes narrowed. "Now, names."
"Just let me finish my monologue." Jason said.
Tim nodded. "Sure, right after I finish with their existence."
"No, you're Robin, you're supposed to be nice." Jason chided. He hated how much like Bruce he sounded. Tim really brought out the worst in him. "Robin is magic."
"Robin is about to kill some assholes is more like it." Tim said. "Not good enough to be Robin, fuck them, what do they know?" It was weirdly sweet, how offended he was on Jason's behalf.
"Tim–"
"Lady Shiva taught me how to shatter someone's spine.” Tim spoke as if he was telling Jason about a new movie he'd seen. “I've been wanting to try it out. Now I finally have a reason."
Jason wondered if Tim would be down for becoming his sidekick. He had both the bloodthirsty mindset and the murderous rage for it. He was just missing the talent for performing.
"You're supposed to be Gotham's light." Jason pointed out. It was a half-hearted effort at best.
"Light can burn." Tim said without missing a beat.
"Oh my God." Jason hid his face in his hands.
He was starting to wonder if Tim found Bruce rather than the other way around.
"Was it Speedy?" Tim questioned.
Jason rolled his eyes. "No, Roy was nice."
"Pantha?"
"I'm not telling you." Jason said. No way was he letting Tim take down a Titan before he did. Jason was the budding rogue here after all.
Tim sighed as if the world was against him. "You make things way more difficult than they have to be."
"Hey, now you sound like my dad." Jason said.
"Bruce?"
"Yes– goddammit." Jason muttered.
Tim grinned.
"Anyway," Jason glared. "They said I wasn't good enough to be Robin,"
-
"What do you have that I didn't?" Jason was finally getting into the flow of things. He was at the peak of his monologue, where the emotions slowly built up to a crescendo as he–
"Pants, for starters." Tim said.
Jason closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, using the calming techniques he learned from the All-Caste. "Tim."
"Hey, that's the tone Dick uses when he's just done with– oh." Tim's eyes widened in realization. "Sorry, continue."
Jason took in a few more breaths before picking up where he left off. "What did–"
"I stand by what I said about the pants though."
"Timothy." Jason hissed, sounding eerily similar to Talia when she was in a mood.
"...sorry."
"Okay," Jason let out a breath. "What did you have–"
"But it had to be said."
The urge to wring the little brat's neck was starting to become stronger than his need to see the Joker dead.
"You know, I think I feel the Lazarus Pit coming back." Jason said.
"Aww, your little imaginary friend is returning." Tim cooed.
Jason glared at him. "Go die."
"Sure, how would you recommend I do so? You're the resident expert after all." Tim mimed taking out a notepad as he spoke.
Jason's lips twitched. "That's terrible."
"You're smiling." Tim pointed out.
"Still awful."
"But true."
"Fuck you." Jason bit back a laugh. There was no need to encourage the menace after all.
Jason cleared his throat. "What do you have that I didn't?"
"A badass bo staff." Tim proclaimed.
"Tim."
-
"You think you're tough enough to be Robin?"
The kid hummed thoughtfully. "Is Robin really meant to be tough per say–"
"It was a rhetorical question." Jason cut in, more tired than annoyed at this point.
"How was I supposed to know that?" Tim huffed.
"Robin is tough." Jason said.
"Mine is, you wore shorts and Dick wore nothing." Tim sounded way too sure of himself for someone who had implied that Robin wasn't tough at all less than a minute ago.
"You?” Jason said incredulously. “What with your old man stick?"
"Better that than a shitty helmet and your lameass guns." Tim said.
Fucking hell, the kid knew how to go for the throat.
"I should just kill you." Jason sighed. Murder was much easier than whatever the hell this was. It was a shame Jason hadn't brought a real gun with him.
"Yeah, once you finish your sixty minute monologue." Tim rolled his eyes.
"It wouldn’t be so long if you stopped interrupting." Jason scowled.
Tim frowned as if he'd said something rude. "I have opinions."
Jason snorted. "Yeah, no kidding."
"For the record, even though you weren't tough–” Jason huffed at that. “I always thought you were pretty cool as Robin."
Jason’s chest warmed and he smiled. "Thanks, kid."
"So did I." A voice said from behind them.
Jason turned to look at the doorway. Bruce was there, with Dick standing next to him.
"How long have you two been there?" Tim asked with a frown.
Dick shot Jason a grin. "Long enough."
Well, fuck. There goes his anti-hero arc.
"Your speech is well paced, Jaylad." Bruce praised, walking further into the room. "I appreciate the dramatic pauses."
"It's not a speech, it's a monologue." Jason hissed in disgust.
"Same thing." Dick shrugged.
Tim grabbed Jason's arm before he could go for his gun. "See? This is why I didn't go to him for help."
Jason hummed. He could see where Tim was coming from. Dick was good with one liners but when it came to monologues, it was best left to the experts.
"I could have helped." Bruce said.
Jason glared at Bruce. "Just because you listen to a lot of monologues, doesn't mean you can recite one." He said with a haughty sniff. Another thing he'd picked up from Talia.
"You can barely say three words on a good day." Dick added.
Tim was the only one to soften at Bruce's dejected look. "Your lectures are pretty good."
Bruce perked up, doing that weird not-smile of his. "Thank you, Tim."
Jason scoffed. "Don't be a suck up."
"Better that than a rebel desperate for dad's attention." Tim huffed.
Jason gasped. He'd thought they were bonding.
Dick gave him a sympathetic look. "He's mean, but he's also right."
Bruce looked between them all with a concerned frown. “You don't have to decapitate people to get my attention, Jaylad.” He said earnestly.
Jason glared. Dick took that as invitation to sweep Jason up into a bone crushing hug. Which neither Bruce nor Tim saw fit to free him from.
“He barely did any research about me before writing this.” Tim informed Bruce. “He said my dad looked after me.”
Bruce gave Jason a disappointed frown.
Dick snorted. “Next you'll be telling me he said he was a well behaved sidekick.”
“He did!” Tim exclaimed.
Jason glared at all their incredulous looks.
Bruce hummed thoughtfully. “He wasn’t well behaved, but he was the best behaved out of all of you.” He smiled softly at Jason, as if he hadn't just obliterated any chance Jason had at becoming a feared rogue.
Jason prayed for the Pit to take over as both Dick and Tim looked over at him with shit eating grins.
He sighed. He should have just stayed with Talia.