A/N:

Since it's referenced in this chapter, the comic pages containing Talia coercing Jay into having sex with her in Red Hood: The Lost Days (Vol. 1) #6 are linked under 'External Link' at the bottom of the chapter (desktop users only, unfortunately) for those who didn't read/don't remember and want a refresher on what exactly happened.

—

Tim sat at his kitchen counter, staring down into his sixth cup of coffee of the morning.

He hadn't slept. Although his laptop was sitting on the counter in front of him, he'd never actually done anything beyond opening it. Mostly he'd just stared.

Stared at the wall, the counter. It didn't matter. He couldn't stop hearing the way Dick's voice had shaken when he'd still thought it was Jason ⁠— the way he'd asked what he'd done, like it might have been his fault; the way he'd apologized to the man. Couldn't stop hearing the things Dick had screamed at the man while he'd beaten him to the brink of death a few hours ago.

Well, it had probably been more than a few hours ago by now ⁠— the sun was well up into the sky.

Tim mopped a hand over his face, and took a gulp of his (nearly cold) coffee. Damn. He didn't know how long it'd been sitting there.

He heard one of his living room windows slide open and his safeguards being deactivated, and looked up to see Cass climbing inside.

"Hey," he greeted quietly.

She walked straight up next to him, and held her arms out partway, clearly asking if he wanted a hug.

He nodded and laid his head on her shoulder. They gripped each other tightly.

"You didn't sleep either?" she asked.

"Did anyone?"

She shrugged.

Neither of them seemed to want to relinquish their hold on each other, so they stayed, even when several minutes later the front door quietly opened behind them.

"Hey guys," Stephanie said, shoving her keys back into her pocket, and closing the door. She sounded more subdued than usual, and her eyes were red and puffy. "Mind if I join in?"

"Yeah, come on," Tim said, and she wrapped her arms around both of them.

"Think Duke's doing okay?" Stephanie asked, after a bit.

Tim shrugged. "I doubt any of us really are. Should we call him?"

They finally all let go of each other, and Stephanie pulled out her phone, scrolling through the contacts. "Probably a good idea."

"I'm worried about Dami," Tim admitted, biting his lip.

Cass shook her head.

"I can't imagine any scenario where he didn't go straight to Dick and Jay's," Stephanie said. "He's probably fine. Or, as fine as possible, in any case."

She pressed call, and put the phone on speaker as it started ringing.

"Hey Steph, everything okay?" Duke picked up.

"Yeah," she said. "Just wanted to check in ⁠- how are you holding up?"

"I'm okay," he said slowly. "Didn't sleep. I can't stop thinking about it."

"I couldn't sleep either... If you don't want to be alone right now, me and Cass are at Tim's main place downtown."

Duke was quiet for so long that Stephanie asked, "Duke?"

"Yeah. Actually, yeah, I think that'd be nice. Be there in fifteen?"

"Okay, see you." She hung up.

"Do either of you want coffee? Tea?" Tim offered.

When Duke finally knocked on the door, they were sitting around the living room with their drinks.

Tim got the door. "Hey. You want coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks. You okay?"

Tim shrugged. "Not really." He turned back into the kitchen.

Duke found a seat in the living room, feeling slightly guilty as he looked at Stephanie and Cass. They were all so much closer to Dick than he was ⁠— Dick was like a big brother to them. He felt almost like he didn't have the right to be as upset as the others.

Rationally, he knew that was stupid. That wasn't how things worked. He'd been a witness to something horrible, just like the rest of them, and he had every right to be upset by it. But a part of him still felt like he was intruding.

Tim came back over and handed him a mug of coffee, and Duke thanked him.

There was a small silence.

"So that was Dick's temper you all warned me about, huh?" Duke blurted out, and then immediately bit his lip. That probably wasn't appropriate.

The rest of them laughed (and if it was slightly hysterical, they could ignore that for now).

"Yeah," Stephanie gasped out. "That was definitely it."

More than anything, that was what had been haunting Duke. Those horrible cracking sounds, and the pained screaming. And then once the man had fallen silent, that had almost been worse because Dick just hadn't stopped.

It wasn't that Duke felt bad for the man ⁠— definitely not ⁠— and he understood why Dick had done it, and that he hadn't been completely in control, but it was still disturbing.

He'd almost beaten the man to death ⁠— would have, if Jason, of all people, hadn't stopped him.

The way the man had looked when they'd gone up there to retrieve him...Duke didn't think he'd ever be able to forget. He had barely been recognizable as human, and he certainly would never make a full recovery. His hands would definitely never be useable again, and the rest of him...Duke had no idea.

"I think I want to go to therapy," Tim said, breaking Duke out of his thoughts. "All of us need it ⁠— have needed it for a long time ⁠— but, I know what B will probably say. You guys don't have to, but I think you should think about it. I need to talk to someone, though, I can't do this anymore."

"Are you gonna see Cass' therapist?" Stephanie asked. "I mean you've got to be able to be honest without compromising our identities, right?"

He shrugged. "I was thinking maybe I could see Black Canary. She counselled us in Young Justice whenever shit really hit the fan, and I'd feel more comfortable with someone I already know I can trust."

"I'm not saying you're wrong, I think it's a good idea if you need it, but do you think Bruce would be okay with another member of the JL knowing everything?" Stephanie asked, not unkindly. "You know how he is about secrets..."

"I don't really give a shit how Bruce feels about it," Tim snapped. "When I can finally stop hearing my big brother getting raped and then almost beating the man to death in my head, maybe I'll be open to alternatives!"

The room went silent.

"You're still hearing it too, huh," Duke said quietly.

"So am I," Cass said.

Stephanie wiped her eyes briskly, and nodded. "Me too. I'll— I'll back you. I'm not going, but I'll fight Bruce for you if I have to."

Duke and Cass nodded.

"Thanks guys." He looked to Duke. "You should seriously think about going too."

"Come on, Duke didn't get to be a part of the last group hug," Stephanie changed the subject, trying to boost the mood. "Let's share the love."

They crowded around Duke and he laughed. "Well, I definitely feel loved."

"Good." Cass said.

They were all going to be okay ⁠— all of them were determined. They had to be.

◇◇◇

"Bruce." Barbara wheeled herself out of the elevator and into the Cave. Bruce was sitting at the Batcomputer alone, typing furiously and scrolling through several feeds, as he had been all night according to Alfred.

"Barbara," he acknowledged, not looking back at her. "I suppose Alfred called you."

"Don't flatter yourself," she scoffed. "I didn't come to check on you, no. I just...didn't want to be alone," she admitted. "And I figured you'd probably be throwing yourself into work too, so...why not combine forces?"

Bruce nodded.

"So much just still doesn't add up about last night," Barbara sighed, once she got settled in front of the bank of monitors with the secondary keypad. "I can't figure out if, when he messed with Dick's comm, he left it still transmitting by accident, or if he did it on purpose ⁠— maybe to taunt Jason further? And why would he lie about turning off the panic signal? He certainly should have been able to if he'd wanted, so was that another taunt?

"He must have figured out the tracking devices too, or else he wouldn't have known Dick was even in Blüdhaven, or that he was alone. And why is he even specifically after Jason? Why would he want his name? And what about the magic? He had enough to turn himself into Jason's doppelgänger, but not do anything else? He must have bought a spell, right? He can't be a real magic user."

"I think it was all intentional," Bruce said. "And he talked the way Jason usually talks to Dick, which means he's been listening; he was probably the one who was tapping into us using the comm Dick lost. That means he knew what he was doing if he was able to do that and scramble the location signal. He also fixed Dick's comm to stop receiving remotely, so he definitely knew how the comms system worked, the question is how he got the lost comm in the first place. How did he know about it? Is he in league with that woman? And you're right, if he was an actual magic user, he would have defended himself."

"Good point..."

They went on conferring, uninterrupted until Alfred eventually brought down dinner.

◇◇◇

"Hey sweetheart?" Jason tapped on the door lightly before going back into the bedroom.

It was late afternoon, and Jason had made Damian and himself some food a little bit ago, but Dick still hadn't gotten up for the day.

Dick didn't respond. He was curled up on the bed with the covers piled over his shoulders, but he appeared to be awake.

"Did you want some food? We still have plenty of eggs."

Dick shook his head, still keeping his eyes closed.

"No. Feel sick."

"Aw, I'm sorry. You need anything? Damian's still here..."

"No, I'm fine, just...gonna go back to sleep." He was quiet for a moment. "Wait, isn't Dami supposed to be at school? It's a Monday."

"He stayed out. He's not feeling so great today either."

Dick sighed. "'Kay. Give him an obnoxious hug for me." He rolled over, dragging the duvet over his head.

Well okay then. The bedroom was just going to be off limits today then, Jason guessed.

He closed the door behind him and flopped down on the couch beside Damian, who was on his phone, and had changed out of his Robin gear into some of Dick's clothes that were still just a bit too big on him

"There are entire other chairs," Damian said pointedly, yanking his feet closer toward himself.

"Yeah but Dickie told me to give you a big obnoxious hug from him, and I can't do that from another chair."

"You hugged me earlier, and anything from you is obnoxious by default. So, already fulfilled."

"Wow, not pulling any punches, huh? Fine. See if I cook for you again."

"I have a black card. I can order out as much as I like," Damian said, still tapping away at his phone.

Jason narrowed his eyes. "But what would Alfred say about you eating delivery for every meal?"

Damian finally looked up, glaring. "Nothing. Because you wouldn't tell him."

"Oh, I wouldn't? But what if it just accidentally...slipped out while I was lamenting over the fact that you just refuse to eat my wonderful home cooking. My lovely recipes that I got straight from him..."

"Do you spill everything that easily? Feels like a security concern."

"Don't turn this into a work thing. Do you lie to Alfred that often?"

Damian frowned. "We spar. When I win, you either continue to feed me, or keep your mouth shut about me ordering out without your stupid hug penance⁠-"

"That's Dick's 'stupid hug penance'," Jason reminded him, and Damian rolled his eyes. "If I win, I won't snitch, but you pay the price."

They shook on it, and then pushed the furniture up against the walls.

Damian immediately took the offensive.

They sparred for perhaps fifteen minutes before Damian left an opening on his left flank.

It was too obvious, and Jason didn't believe for a second Damian had missed it. It was probably a trap, but Jason went for it anyway. He'd let the kid win if he wanted.

Only...it wasn't a trap. Jason took him down, holding until Damian tapped out.

"You let me win!"

"Of course I didn't let you win," Damian sat up, scowling.

"Aw, if you wanted a hug you could've just asked."

"I don't," Damian insisted, crossing his arms. "I didn't let you win."

"Oh, so you just suck at sparring? I'm a better fighter than you? Aww, thanks gremlin, I thought you'd never say."

Damian's scowl deepened. "Winning one sparring match when I'm sick hardly means you're better."

Jason tackled him, hugging him obnoxiously tightly, and messing up his hair on purpose.

"You think I don't know you're not sick? That's cute ⁠— I know you're just worried about Dickie."

"Would you unhand me now?" Damian grumbled, not hugging back, but also not squirming away.

Jason let go of him and laughed. "I can tell you're not mad either."

Damian gave a glare that promised pain, and pushed himself up off the floor, stalking over to the couch, which was now shoved up against the wall. He snatched his phone up and pointedly stretched out, taking up the whole sofa so Jason couldn't sit down again.

Jason hopped to his feet.

"Alright, I need to go get groceries, and...take care of some business. Call me if Dick gets up, or if you're leaving."

"'Take care of some business?'" Damian questioned. "I wasn't aware drug lords 'took care of business' in daylight hours now."

Jason clicked his tongue. "Good, 'cause it's none of your concern."

He went into the kitchen and Damian saw him come out a minute later with his leather jacket and Red Hood helmet under his arm, and ⁠— why did he keep those in the kitchen? Todd was such a freak.

Actually, Jason had several, one set of which he'd hidden in some of the lower cabinets in the kitchen. He just hadn't wanted to disturb Dick by going to get the ones in their bedroom.

He grabbed a bag from a hook by the door, and threw the jacket and helmet in, shoving on his boots and grabbing his keys.

"Alright kid, have fun."

Damian gave a noncommittal grunt, and Jason left.

A few hours later, Jason climbed back in through one of the living room windows, and took off his helmet, tossing it on a chair.

"You smell like gunpowder," Damian commented, as Jason passed by, nearly tripping as he tried to leap over the coffee table.

"Too much to ask you to move the furniture back?" Jason grunted, clutching the bag — now full of groceries — tightly so as not to spill it.

Damian ignored him. "You didn't take a gun with you."

"Bold of you to assume I'm not always carrying a gun."

"Your jacket was empty, and you'd just tackled me before you got it. I'd have felt if you had a gun."

Jason made a weird face and bit his lip hard. "There's a lotta jokes I wanna make right now ⁠— but I'm not gonna. I'm stronger than this," he said half to himself.

Damian looked unamused. "While I'm sure whatever you want to say is absolutely hilarious," he didn't sound like he thought that at all, "you still haven't answered my question."

"You didn't ask a question."

Damian just glared at him.

"Jesus, kid. Fine. It turned into a small firefight, and clearly even if I don't bring a gun, I know how to get ahold of one. I'm fine, and the other guys won't be bothering anyone anymore⁠— No I didn't kill anyone," Jason added when Damian's glare sharpened.

"Fine."

"You gonna help me move the furniture back?" Jason asked, as he set the groceries on the dining table.

Damian reluctantly rolled off of the couch. "I suppose."

But he spent more time watching Jason carefully to make sure he wasn't lying about being injured than actually helping.

◇◇◇

Around eight o'clock, Damian came out of the bathroom in his Robin suit, and Jason looked up from his book.

"You're patrolling, then?"

Damian nodded.

"Wanna see if Dickie's up?"

"Yes."

Jason put his book down on the coffee table, and went over to rap lightly on the bedroom door.

"Dickie, sweetheart?"

He opened the door.

"Dick?" He squinted in the dark, but the bed looked strangely flat.

Jason flicked on the light. The bed was empty.

"Fuck."

He went straight to the closet, and opened the concealed compartment in the back and, yep the Nightwing suit was gone.

"He went out," Damian observed from behind him.

"Without saying anything," Jason gritted out. That was the part that really bothered him.

Goddammit. He wouldn't have stopped him if he really wanted to go out patrolling. Jason certainly didn't think it was a good idea, but Dick was an adult, and it definitely wouldn't be worth breaking his trust to stop him. It also kind of hurt that Dick hadn't even considered letting him know where he was.

Jason fished his comm out of the belt of his Red Hood pants, and flicked it on.

"Nightwing," he immediately said into it.

"What about him?" Bruce was on alert in an instant.

"I was calling to him. You mean he's not on the comms?"

"You don't know where he is?" Bruce demanded.

"I'm his boyfriend, not his fucking babysitter," Jason snapped. "Last I checked in on him he was asleep. Looks like he took his suit and went out on patrol."

He looked back at Damian. "You're with me tonight, gremlin."

Damian didn't even bother to complain about the order or the nickname, just nodded.

"Okay," Jason said into the comm again. "Me and Robin are going out looking for him. Red Hood out."

He switched off the comm.

"Give me two minutes." He grabbed his Red Hood gear and headed to the bathroom.

◇◇◇

They finally found Dick in Blüdhaven. He was starfished on a rooftop, staring up at the sky, breathing slowly ⁠— too evenly not to be counting.

Jason preemptively took off his helmet and turned off his comm, gesturing for Damian to do the same. Maybe nothing would happen, but if Dick was ready to talk, it wasn't everybody else's business.

"'Wing?" Jason asked, when Dick didn't look over at him and Damian, despite their somewhat loud arrival onto the roof.

"I let her kill him, you know," Dick said quietly.

"What?" Jason asked. "Who?"

"Blockbuster. I was there. I could have stopped her, but in that second I just thought...he'll never stop unless he's dead. And I stepped out of the way, and just watched Tarantula kill him. No⁠— she pulled the trigger, but we killed him." Dick spoke slowly, and he sounded detached, almost spacey.

Jason waved Damian back when he opened his mouth.

"That's in the past now. It's over. We can't change it," Jason said gently. He took a few careful steps forward, and sat down near Dick's sprawled form.

"This is where it happened. Right here." Dick pressed his palms and the backs of his heels down harder into the rooftop.

"This is where she killed him?"

"No." Dick said simply.

There was a long silence before he spoke again.

"This isn't the first time I've come back here. When you and I first started dating, I started having nightmares about her again. So I'd come out here and just...sit in it and remember," he sighed. "Sometimes I was afraid that if I couldn't remember every little detail and dissect it, see what I should have done, then it'd happen again and I wouldn't be able to see it coming."

He let out a small, bitter laugh. "And clearly a hole has been popped in that theory, because even though she's dead and not coming back, and I've spent years picking apart and putting together the hazy memories, that doesn't seem to stop it happening. I don't seem to be able to stop it happening before it does."

"Dick. It's not on you. It's not your responsibility⁠—"

"I don't really care!" Dick shouted, digging his fingers in against the rooftop. "I don't care about what should be the case, I care that I keep having to go through this, and I'm the only one who can stop it, and I never do. Not once. Zero out of fucking four!"

"That's not your fault, Dick. I don't know what you expect to be able to do, but you're only human. It's not somehow your fault just because you can't magically do more than you're capable of! I⁠—" Jason took a deep breath, and lowered his tone again. "I'm not mad at you, but you're holding yourself to an impossible standard and just hurting yourself more."

"How is it not my fault, though?" Dick demanded. "If someone sees something fucked up and doesn't do anything, they're partially responsible!"

"Not always! And it doesn't matter anyway, because you weren't just a random bystander. You were the victim, Dick; and that sucks and it's hard to deal with, especially when we're used to being the heroes, but you were. You did what you could."

"I didn't though! It doesn't matter whether I was the victim or not, I still didn't do anything to help myself, I just let it happen!" He kicked a foot down against the roof. "I didn't even know with Mirage until the next day. I thought it had been Kory, and when she told me I just stood there. I didn't do a goddamn thing. And Kory got pissed at me for cheating and I still just fucking stood there. I could have done anything. I should have noticed in the fucking first place! What kind of person doesn't even recognize that's not their partner? Twice!"

"Any normal person!" Jason exclaimed. "Nobody expects their partner to actually be a fucking imposter all the time; if they're acting weird it's usually just them acting weird! Why would you know? Listen, if it was me telling you all of this happened, would you judge me? Would you tell me I didn't do enough, that I should've known better? What did you tell me about Talia?" His eyes went wide as he realized what he'd said, and he immediately backtracked. "I mean, not that— I just meant—"

"It's different!" Dick insisted. "I wasn't a fucking teenager being groomed."

"Okay I wasn't—" Jason started to protest, but Dick continued on, not in the mood to hear him defend Talia. That was so not the point right now.

"You would've known. I...I was preparing to propose to Kory, I was going to marry her and I didn't even notice. How inattentive a lover do you have to be to not even notice the person you're fucking isn't the person you're planning to spend the rest of your life with?" He was shouting again by the end of it, and Jason tried to interrupt, but Dick forged ahead once again.

"And you!" His knuckles scraped against the rough rooftop, and his throat tightened, making him let out a dry sob. "I know⁠— I know you wouldn't, but I still thought..." he trailed off. "Why? Why would I even assume it was you? This is what I mean! You wouldn't have done that, nobody fucking does that, especially in this line of work. You can't just say 'Oh but what if it was somebody else', because nobody else is this much of a fucking dumbass! It's a false equivalency!"

"It isn't different at all from me! You just don't know how not to blame yourself for everything awful in the world!"

"It is! If it was you, and you told me about something happening to you, then I would know that you did everything you could. But I didn't."

"Well I'm telling you that you did, the same way that you would tell me. It may feel like you didn't, but you did what you could, okay?"

Dick grabbed blindly toward Jason, and huffed when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"Hand." he said, holding his own out impatiently, palm up until Jason set one of his down on it.

He snatched it up, frowning, and intertwined their fingers, holding the hand to his chest under both of his.

"You aren't going to convince me, but I'm done arguing with you. I just want to feel like shit with some good company."

Jason let out a slow sigh. "Okay sweetheart."

Dick finally looked over at him, studying his face in the dark. "This is really you, right? It's actually you?"

"Yeah, angel."

"Tell me. Tell me something only you know," he asked quietly.

"Okay." Jason thought for a moment. "I really badly wanted the secret compartment in our room to be behind the bookshelf instead of in the closet, because I wanted that cool 'pull on the right book and it swings open' thing. But then everything we tried always made the books fall off."

Dick smiled. "Yeah, I remember how badly you wanted that to work. Dork."

"It would've been totally awesome and you know it."

"Yeah," Dick admitted. He reached up a hand to Jason's jaw, and stroked his thumb over his cheek. I love you.

He couldn't say it though ⁠— couldn't force it past his lips. Dick dropped his hand back on top of their clasped hands on his chest.

"I thought it was you. I really thought it was you, I thought you would actually do that, even though I know...I should've known." He squeezed Jason's hand tighter. "I should've recognized sooner, or at least thought you were under some sort of influence or control. But I didn't, I just thought it was you. How can you not hate me? What kind of person thinks that about their partner?"

To be honest, as much as Jason had been trying to ignore that part — because it was bullshit — part of him was hurt about that. And he felt gross as hell when that guilty part of him felt better hearing Dick's self-loathing about it.

"Well that's trauma for you," he stated bluntly. Because it was true; he knew that, even when that little piece of him wanted to take it personally. Unfortunately for that little piece of him, though, Jason was well versed in ignoring stupid shit in his head, no matter how persistent it was.

"You and I both know that," he continued, "but you just won't accept that it applies to you because you're still trying to make everything your fault somehow."

"I'm not making it into 'my fault somehow'," Dick protested. "I actually⁠-"

"I thought you didn't want to argue anymore because you're not gonna listen anyway?" Jason interrupted him.

Dick sighed, and consciously relaxed his muscles. "I said you weren't going to get me to agree with you, not that I wouldn't listen," he groused, but it had no bite. "But yeah, I really don't feel like arguing."

Jason nodded, and they fell to silence for a few minutes.

"Do you want to head home?" Jason finally asked, and Dick nodded vaguely.

"In a minute."

Eventually they got up, and Jason looked around. There was no sign of Damian. Where the hell had he gone?

"I...uh," he said, looking down at the street and seeing that the Robincycle was gone.

Dick looked at him questioningly.

"I brought Damian with me, and he's...gone. Bike too. Maybe he got bored and went back to Gotham?"

"Damian was with you and you didn't say anything? He could've heard all of that? And you just expected to let him sit there the whole time?"

"There didn't seem to be a good time to bring it up..."

Dick sighed. "And you lost him. Cool."

"Hey, I feel sorry for the fucker who tries to abduct him; I'm sure he's fine, okay?" Jason flicked his comm back on. "Robin?" he asked into it.

"Yes, Hood. Did you need something?" Damian responded tersely.

"Are you and Nightwing okay?" Bruce cut in.

"Yeah, B. We're heading home, I just wanted to see where Robin had run off to."

"I had already reported back, Batman. Is asking Hood as well truly necessary?"

"No need to be an asshole the one time B sounds like he cares," Jason retorted (not missing the heavy sigh from Bruce at his words). "Why the hell did you run off? And not even say anything?"

"I did not wish to hear any more of that particular conversation."

Damian still sounded tense and perhaps...angry? No that wasn't quite right, but something was definitely wrong, something different than just hearing the details of Dick's personal struggles. Jason thought back through his and Dick's conversation, trying to think of what could possibly have sparked a reaction like that from Damian.

Ah...fuck. He'd mentioned what had happened with Talia.

"Shit, kid." Jason scrubbed a hand over his brow. He didn't really want to have this conversation ⁠— didn't even know how, really ⁠— but it was about Damian's mother, whom he was notoriously defensive of. "If this is because I mentioned T⁠—"

"I don't wish to have this conversation right now," Damian interrupted him stiffly.

"Listen, that's not...what you heard isn't the whole story, it's not really like⁠-"

"I am on patrol. I'm working. I don't care about your 'story'. Go take Nightwing home and get off the comms."

"Fine," Jason sighed. "Fuck, fine. Some other time. Red Hood out."

"What the hell was that about?" Stephanie asked.

"None of your business, Batgirl. Why don't you worry about something useful and do your job," Damian snapped.

Jason flicked the comm back off with a frown.

"What was that about?" Dick asked immediately.

"I think Damian's upset because he heard me mention Talia. And the context wasn't great, and it sounded like..."

Dick's lips were pursed tightly, and his eyes were narrowed, the same way he always looked when Talia came up. "It sounded like exactly what it was."

"Shit, Dick, I can't do this right now." He mopped his hand over his face again. "It's not that simple."

"Oh right. Silly me, that's what I always say too. You know, when the mother figure who's been taking care of me since I dug myself out of my grave as a teenager with no memories convinces me to have sex with her. Because I'm technically an adult now, so that's perfectly fine, even though I'm still like over a decade younger than her, and her ex is my father figure. Oh wait."

"Dick," Jason said warningly. "Drop. It."

"Fine." The displeased tilt of Dick's mouth didn't change though. "So what are you going to tell Damian?"

"I don't know. I feel like he deserves some explanation, and I don't want him to...I mean she's his mom. And she's not the best person, but she's not the worst. I don't really want to talk to him about it, though."

"Not being the absolute worst is a low bar. He knows she's not what anyone would call a good person. He came to terms with that a long time ago, and you don't have to tell him what happened or keep making excuses for her to try and make him feel better. You know how much I care about Damian, so believe me when I say he doesn't need you to put yourself through that to come to terms with how he feels about Talia now, considering this new information. He'll be fine."

"He's still going to want an explanation."

"That doesn't mean you owe it to him, Jay! He has people to talk to if he needs help sorting things out; he'll be fine. He isn't the one still in denial after years." Dick knew he shouldn't keep pushing, especially since Jason had told him to drop it, but it slipped off his tongue. He just got so fired up over what had happened with Talia, and Jason's consistent refusal to acknowledge it for what it was.

"Stop it."

Dick threw his hands up. "I just don't get how you can understand how fucked up it would be for me to do that to Damian, or Bruce to one of us, but you're suddenly unable to apply the concept when it comes to her!"

"Dammit, Dick! Not right now! I cannot have this fucking conversation tonight! It's different, okay? It's just⁠— I can't⁠— Just fucking leave it alone! I told you to leave it!"

Jason was working to keep himself from shouting and completely flying off the handle, but he was still clearly freaking out, and Dick instantly felt guilty. He'd known that he was pushing when he shouldn't, and he'd continued to do it anyway, even after Jason had asked him to stop.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, I...that was mean. I shouldn't have pushed." Jason had respected his own boundaries earlier, even when he was being difficult, and Dick had just repaid him by being more of an asshole.

There was silence for several long moments as Jason calmed himself, but eventually he nodded. "Let's just go home."

He didn't say 'It's okay', or 'I'm fine', and Dick knew it was intentional.

He wanted to reach out to Jason, hug him or something, but a big part of him cringed at the idea of so much bodily contact. He wanted to tell Jason he loved him, to reassure him somehow, but the words still just refused to come out.

Instead, he just nodded back, and they shot out their grappling lines, heading down to the street toward their bikes.