Soundtrack: New Divide, By Linkin Park

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Tim stalked through the manor, currently en route to one of the larger sitting rooms where Alfred was tending to everyone's injuries. Jason had just left after seeing the family portrait, and the more Tim thought about it, angrier he was getting. Tim wasn't usually the angry one of the family. Even when he was, it was usually a controlled type of rage. But, there were times when Tim got angry enough to have an outburst, and he could feel himself gearing up for one. The thing about it was, at that moment Tim didn't really care. After what Bruce had done—or more accurately didn't do—Tim decided that if he did get upset enough, he was going to let Bruce have it.

Tim marched into the sitting room where everybody was being tended, Dick was sitting over by Damian and making sure the young boy was alright, much to Damian's annoyance. Bruce was waiting in line while Alfred was cleaning a small gash on Cassandra's head. The butler finished and Cassandra quietly thanked him before getting up and heading in the direction of her room.

Bruce sat down and Alfred got to work.

"Where might Master Jason be?" Alfred glanced at Tim before turning his attention back to Bruce.

"He left." Tim stated flatly.

Alfred sighed audibly.

"That's not the only thing, when I found him he was looking at the family portrait." Tim added.

"You know, the one he's not in." Tim gave Bruce a pointed look.

Bruce's neutral expression hardened, even more so than usual.

"Oh dear." Alfred said solemnly.

"Bruce, did you really not even ask him?" Tim continued, in an accusing tone.

"He wasn't in Gotham at the time and I didn't think he would want anything to do with it. In the past he's made it perfectly clear he wants nothing to do with us." Bruce protested sternly.

"You believe that? And clearly Jason did, because after he saw it, he looked like he had been kicked in the gut, then he just left without even getting checked out. You saw how much he got thrown around out there. There's no way he's uninjured. Honestly, would it have killed you to ask? What would it have hurt to call him?" Tim shot back, his tone beginning to rise.

"Perhaps if Todd had earned the right, he would've been forewarned." Damian cut in.

"Oh don't give me that." Tim snapped, turning to Damian.

"Yeah, he's made mistakes, yeah, he's screwed up. But news flash, every single one of us has." Tim continued, gesturing to the whole room.

"And he's done more than enough to earn it back. You know how many times he helped but he didn't have to? Hell, he didn't have to help us today, but he did." Tim was now yelling.

"He even stayed and helped bring you back after Bruce took him to Ethiopia." He pointed a finger at Damian.

"You did what?" Dick entered the conversation, his tone low and quiet.

"Father, is that true?" Even Damian seemed shocked.

Bruce sighed.

"I was trying to see if he could remember anything about his death that might help bring you back. At the time, it seemed like a small sacrifice." Bruce replied, as if though he was attempting to justify his actions.

"We all wanted Damian back, but you don't just take someone back to the place they were murdered, Bruce. Especially not after what the Joker dredged up." Dick answered, starting to get upset as well.

"Bruce, by doing that...you might as well have just said that you didn't care. Because that's kind of the message that sends." Dick added, darkly.

"I wanted to see Damian grow up." Bruce growled.

"All of us do, but the place you took Jason, his death. It's the very reason you and I didn't get to see Jason grow up. And in the end, what difference did it make? We brought Damian back in a way that seemed completely different from how Jason came back. So all you accomplished was napalming any bridges you might have rebuilt with him." Dick glared.

Bruce dropped his gaze to the floor and once again sighed deeply.

"Did you ever find out what happened after that?" Tim turned back to Bruce, speaking through gritted teeth.

"After we brought Damian back, Jason left and I didn't see him in Gotham again for quite some time." Bruce spoke in his usual deep monotone.

"No, I mean what happened to him in between that." Tim answered.

"No." Bruce shook his head.

"Jason won't talk about it, and I don't know all the details, but I heard from Harper and Starfire that he got his memory wiped because of it." Tim informed hints of anger still in his tone.

"What?" Bruce inquired.

"Obviously he got it back, but he had one of All-Caste wipe his memories. Of you, the Joker, his death, and everything to do with his time as Robin. All of it." Tim said coldly.

"He never said..." Bruce started.

Tim cut him off, he was on a roll and he wasn't going to stop now. Tim didn't usually act like this, but this subject had been left alone for far too long.

"After all of that, why would he? And yet, he's still here. After everything, he still helps, he risks his life for us. And we don't even have the decency to include him in a family picture. Or, come to think of it, anything family related." Tim stated stiffly.

Thick silence hung in the room for several moments.

"I'll go talk to him." Bruce stood.

"No. You need to, but I really don't think that's a good idea right now. We all know it's just going to end in a fight, and probably with Jason leaving Gotham. If he isn't planning it already. I'll go." Tim replied, moving past them and heading for the door.

"Tim, are you sure that's a good idea, if he's angry..." Bruce argued.

"He'll what?" He turned back, his intense gaze almost daring Bruce to continue.

"He's not going to hurt me. He's different now, I know he's gone after all of us in the past, but did you ever stop to think that maybe the Lazarus Pit he was dunked into might have had something to do with that?" Tim spoke, with a sharp edge to his voice.

He was again met with silence and a stony expression.

"I didn't think so." Tim hissed, before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find my brother." He called over his shoulder.

As Tim walked out he caught a glance of Dick glaring at Bruce. Dick and Jason might not get along, but Dick could still be very protective. Bruce was in for another earful. Tim kept walking, leaving the Dark Knight to his fate.

He was halfway to the cave before Alfred appeared, having followed him.

"Master Timothy, when you do find your brother, please see that he is alright. If he is not, promise me that you will call so that I can administer proper first aid." Alfred spoke.

"I will, I promise." Tim replied, his tone calmer now.

Alfred nodded, and Tim continued down into the cave.

Several minutes later, the former Robin was speeding down the highway, cars and distance flying by as the wind whipped at his jacket. Driving a motorcycle with a sling wasn't recommended and it certainly wasn't easy. But truth be told, he had done it with much worse handicaps. Tim was still frustrated but not quite as upset now. Why didn't they get it, especially Bruce? Why didn't he understand? Why was it that everyone had the collective IQ of a can of Spam when it came to Jason?

He wasn't the same since his resurrection, he was angrier, and more violent. But he was beaten and killed by the Joker, and then brought back under some of the worst circumstances. Nobody would be the same after that. Yeah sure, Tim and Jason hadn't gotten off to the best start when they met, but a lot had changed since then. They were closer now, and now not only did Tim consider Jason his friend, he considered him a brother. It annoyed Tim that everyone was constantly pushing him away, forgetting about him, and not including him. Jason was far from perfect, but he was family, at least to Tim anyway.

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Jason sat on the edge of his bathtub, a string of curses escaped his lips as he sewed up his forearm. Turns out it's really hard to make proper stitches with a sprained wrist. He had stripped away his armor and was now in a pair of sweat pants and a tank top.

His torso felt like it was on fire, but as far as he could tell nothing was broken. It didn't change the fact he felt like crap, physically and mentally. He could feel himself sinking into one of those moods where you don't really want to do anything, where you don't even want to move. Not because you're tired, or even sad, but because you feel...empty.

But he was Jason Peter Todd, and he couldn't nor wouldn't do nothing. He would rest for now, and then he'd leave Gotham again. He wasn't wanted here, even if he was making a difference. Quite frankly he wasn't even sure if he'd ever come back, or if he even wanted to. He was tired of it all, tired of feeling this way, the anger, the pain, he was just so tired.

Jason was snapped from his focus when he heard what sounded like someone trying to pick a lock. Jason tried to remember if he'd set any of the traps on front his door. Damn, he hadn't. He'd just stumbled in and completely forgotten about it. Jason stood and swiped his gun, his arm only halfway stitched up. This day just keeps gettin' better and better.

He heard his door open and close, they were already inside. Jason was in no mood to be subtle so he rounded the corner and came out with his gun trained at about head level. To his surprise he found Tim standing by the door.

"Woah, it's just me." Tim blurted, raising his hand slightly.

Jason groaned in frustration, lowering the gun as he did.

"What are you doing here?" Jason muttered, turning back around and heading towards the bathroom.

"Dude, I came to make sure you're alright." Tim replied, following him.

"I'm fine, now go home." Jason yelled from the bathroom.

Tim walked up to the door of the bathroom as Jason attempted to continue stitching up his arm.

"First of all, you don't look fine. Quite frankly, you look like crap on toast. Tim answered, "Will you at least let me help you with your arm. Your stitches look like something Dr. Frankenstein did." He continued.

"No." Jason said shortly.

"Fine, then I'll call Alfred, he made me promise to if you weren't alright." Tim threatened.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim.

"Really, you're gonna go as low as to sic the Batlar on me." Jason rolled his eyes.

"If I have to." Tim replied.

Jason growled then shoved his arm towards Tim. The Red Robin cracked a smirk and walked over, beginning to stitch up the wound. Jason begrudgingly held still while Tim worked. His stitches where neat and tight, and looked a lot like Alfred's. After a few moments Tim finished, cutting off the remaining thread.

"Anything else?" Tim asked.

"Just my wrist, I think I sprained it, I got everything else though." Jason said with a shrug.

Tim nodded and got up, beginning to clean up the first aid kit. He threw one of the wrist braces to Jason in the process.

"Hey, Jason..." Tim began, after he put the first aid kit away.

Jason shot him a warning glance.

"For the last time, it doesn't bother me. Leave it alone." Jason protested, knowing what Tim was about to start talking about.

"Listen," Tim spoke anyway, "I know this doesn't make up for it, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything, this should be coming from Bruce, and maybe it will one day. But you need to know that you didn't deserve to get left out, or any of the other stuff Bruce has done lately." Tim continued.

"That was beautiful, Tim. Hold me." Jason said dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Which was usually his knee jerk reaction to sensitive topics.

"I'm serious." Tim gave him a look.

After a moment, Jason sighed.

He really didn't like moments like these, but at the same time it meant a lot. So Jason couldn't just brush it off and pretend everything was fine like he wanted to. At least someone cared, or did Tim just feel sorry for him? Jason pushed that thought aside, he was too tired. For now he would take it how it was.

"Thanks, Tim. I...it means a lot. I appreciate it." Jason replied quietly.

Tim cracked a small smile. Then Tim dramatically put his hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Hug it out." Tim spoke in a tone similar to what Jason's had been.

Jason rolled his eyes and stood, walking out of the room.

"I'm going to sleep. Now get the hell out of my house." Jason called as he headed for his room.

"Hey, Jay?" Tim asked, stepping of the bathroom as well.

"Yeah."

"Are you gonna leave Gotham again?" Tim asked with a slight frown.

Jason blinked, thinking about it for a moment.

"I don't know." He answered truthfully.

"Things have been pretty crazy and we could always use the extra hand. Can you stay? Just for a little while? Please?" Tim asked hopefully.

Jason didn't speak for a moment, contemplating it once more.

"Fine. I guess you will need someone to help stabilize Crime Alley." Jason sighed, "But I'm only staying until everything's under control again."

Tim nodded.

"Any chance you can try and keep Bruce away from me for a while?" He asked. "I honestly don't know what'll happen if I see him again. I just...I really need a break, just for a little while." Jason explained.

Tim ran a hand over the back of his neck.

"I can try, but I can't guarantee anything. Especially not after..." Tim trailed off.

"What did you do?" Jason questioned flatly, his shoulders dropped ever so slightly, making him look even more exhausted.

"I may have said a few things." Tim admitted.

Jason ran a hand over his face slowly.

"Why would you do that?" He muttered, his voice muffled by his palm that was over most of his face.

"Bruce has pulled a lot of crap in the past, it's about time someone called him on it." Tim replied causally.

"So how long do I have until the judgement express is beating down my door?" Jason retorted.

"I don't know, but I'll do my best to keep him away from you if that's what you want. I'll try and get Dick and Alfred's help too. But we can only keep him away for so long." Tim informed.

"For what it's worth, thank you. For everything." Jason stated.

"No problem." Tim shrugged.

Jason closed the bedroom door, feeling like he was ready to sleep for a week.

He couldn't help but think. What am I getting myself into?