Do These Tacos Taste Funny To You?

Poisoned, drugged, withdrawal

Sometimes the inhabitants of Wayne Manor forgot what kind of family they were in. other times it was painfully apparent.

In a family of liars there is very little comfort, no matter how much one may wish it to be otherwise. In the end they largely stayed together for the sole reason that they were the only ones that could deal with each other in a familial sense for any longer than a week. Their merry clan was made of a man who turned children into soldiers, his first son who bore the brunt of his fathers anger, the second who'd died and never got past it, his third who lived with one foot in the grave and the other in a coffee pot, the fourth who thought this was all normal.

Jason didn't stay at the manor often, but when he did he stayed frigid, away from Bruce. Tim lived there, os did Damian, but there seemed to almost be some form of line between the two and Bruce, as if something held the man back from being the knight of Gotham Jason knew of.

No one knew that line was Dick Grayson.

No one knew, till Jason figured it out. He stayed a night at the manor, snippy and arrogant and constantly making jibes at Bruce whenever he could. It ended in a shouting match and Jason was glad for it, he'd needed to blow of some steam.

And then he'd gone too far and Bruce had raised his hand.

And right as he did Dick walked past, leveling a string look on Bruce. "I need to talk to you," he said, and noticing Jason's stare he added, "it's about work."

Bruce shouldered past Jason, telling him to leave and Jason muttered an acknowledgement that he would. the two made their way to the office. Jason stared at their retreating forms.

Not even when Jay had lived in the manor had Bruce ever raised his hand against him. he'd never hit him, and at that very moment it appeared he was about to.

It took him a moment but he eventually followed Dick and Bruce up the stairs, standing outside the door to the office, listening in. the voices were strained, clearly trying not to start yelling. he got their just in time to hear Dick snap.

"you can hit me all you fucking want, but you touch them and I will hunt you down."

Jason's breath rushed out of him. what?

He didn't catch what Bruce said in response, he wasn't listening. He reeled, mind going in every direction.

He didn't know why, but all he could think about was the fact that, if Dick wasn't calling him Batman, he only ever addressed Bruce as 'sir'.

He swallowed down that thought.

"I don't give a shit," he heard Dick hiss, and Jason was quite sure he'd never heard Dick sound so mad before, "there are ways to fix things that don't involve a right hook to the face."

Jason couldn't quite marry up this conversation with he man he'd come to know as Dick Grayson. Dick was Nightwing, an older brother, a family type. If he kept secrets it was for the greater good. He was annoyingly optimistic sometimes and he believed in the good in everyone. This version was a beaten down person who'd thrown the towel in and decided to prioritise. He'd picked three people to protect and he damned the rest of the world, including himself.

The conversation continued, Jason wasn't listening very well. He barely caught any of it. all he was registering was their slowly raising voices. In a normal situation this is where someone would burst in and call time out. Usually that someone was Dick, usually the argument was between Jason and Bruce. Realistically, Jason knew that Bruce and Dick fought, but he'd never seen it and he'd never thought-

A body slammed into the door, it clicked shut in Jason's face.

He backed away from it, staring wide eyed. He had to get out of here.

There were times when Dick Grayson was a ray of sunshine and there were times when he wasn't bullshitting everyone around him. the two instances never occurred at the same time.

But he had to lie to everyone, because he was supposed to be that lie.

He was supposed to be the brother, the leader, the friendly face. The light in Batman's shadow. He ran on no sleep, he never stopped moving, he forced a smile.

That got really hard when April first rolled around, and all he could think of was his nine year old self curled up in a ball and crying.

And instead of copying his childhood coping mechanisms at home in Bludhaven, he was stuck visiting Wayne Manor. Brilliant.

He wished he could go back to the good days, when he lived in a circus. Everything was easier then. Hell, he'd happily live in the constant repetitive cycle of the first month he'd stayed with Bruce, before Dick had found the cave and thus everything between them had begun to slowly descend into chaos.

He needed a break, he needed a drink, he needed a damn family, that'd be grand but instead he was stuck with their chaotically amalgamated mess of trauma-ridden idiots.

But he stepped in. he always did. When Bruce was on the edge of cracking he took him aside, knowing full well whatever conversation he tried to have with Bruce would end with him bruised.

And it did.

And he was hoping he could have a reasonable conversation with Jason afterwards, at least persuade him to not tell Tim and Damian and make him understand it was no big deal.

He did not get that kind of conversation.

A cigarette dangled from his hand, he leant against the railing. Before him the city seemed to hum with the promise of adventure. He looked down at the ground below, staring at the cars parked along the road. The sun was dipping into he horizon behind him, bathing the place in orange.

Some walked out onto the roof, steps quiet. He wasn't trying to sneak up. He leant against the railing next to Jay.

"your cigarette's out," Dick said.

Jay flicked it away and replaced it with a new one. Before he could put the box back in his jacket Dick grabbed it and his lighter from his hand, taking one out and lighting it up with practiced ease. Jason stared with open confusion and mild shock.

"I didn't know you smoked," he said, frowning. He'd never smelt it on him before.

"not for years," Dick said, and Jason could figure it out from there. he glanced, noticing a bruise on the other side of Dick's face, blooming over his left cheek.

"did..." he stared, "wait... did Bruce do that?"

Dick raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a side-eye glance. He turned his eyes back to the city sprawl.

"how long were you standing by the door?" he asked, and took a drag of the cigarette.

Jason stuttered slightly but said, "not long," he sighed, "wasn't paying much attention anyway."

"you didn't miss much," Dick said, "just the usual run of the mill."

"I don't know what the usual is," Jay said, "I haven't seen you two arguing since my Robin days."

Dick shrugged with shoulder.

Jay turned his words over in his mind.

"how often does this happen?"

"don't worry about it, Jay," Dick said.

"if you're taking hits for me I'm gonna worry about it," he said, tone turning to steel. Dick levelled a long suffering look on him.

"I'm your brother, it's nothing," he said and breathed in the smoke once more.

"you're not my stand in punching bag," Jason hissed, "I can take my right hooks myself thanks."

Dick just chuckled darkly, as if he were laughing at a naïve child who had no idea what was in store.

"what else have you been hiding? Does he give you missions he doesn't want the rest of us on?" Jason levelled a narrow-eyed stare on Dick, "what, is this some kind of protection complex? I can handle myself."

"for once in your life, Jay, take this as something other than people thinking you're useless," Dick scoffed, "not everything is because people underestimate you."

"yeah? So what's it about?" he crossed his arms, "does Tim know? Damian?"

Dick snorted, "no."

"because Bruce doesn't want them to?"

"because I don't want them to," Dick said, standing straight, "I don't want them to know that Bruce has been an abusive asshole since I was nine," Dick said, barely holding back a scowl.

"he's never hit me."

"wonder why?" Dick hissed.

"well, stop," Jason said, "just... stop, why do you have to stand between everyone and their issues?" Jason said, "newsflash, Dick, you're worth something when you're not helping people."

Dick raised an eyebrow, "you're really gonna pull that ne on me?"

Jason rubbed at his face.

"what, do you want Bruce to start hitting you? Do you want the suicide missions?" he pointed to the spot in his neck where, once upon a time, a SPYRAL chip had been implanted, "do you want to be his number one for every plan that barely works? Go ahead."

"it's not about that and you know it," Jay scowled.

"so what's it about?' Dick said, and Jay hated how dead pan and emotionless he was being about this.

"oh, I'm so sorry, for once I decided I'd give a shit about my family," Jason shrugged, "oops, forgot that's not supposed to be my thing."

"hey, you're the one who's told me to screw off more times than I can count. You're the one who decided to become a crime boss," Dick pointed at his chest, right where the red symbol was, "I guess I'll go tell Batman I'm not covering your ass anymore, maybe he'll show up tonight to dismantle your gang, maybe next week, who knows."

"you don't mean that," Jason snorted. Bruce stayed out of Jason's life because he was an absent father who gave leeway for people like him. it wasn't Dick standing in the way and persuading him.

"let's find out," Dick scowled, walking past and flicking the cigarette away, "you wanna play big bro? go ahead, I've been in need of a break for years." He reached the door, turned back to Jay as he did so, "come back and tell me how easy it is, hell, give me a call the first time he slams your head into the ground, that's a good initiation."

And then he slammed the door and left.