Chapter Text
“You’re handling this well, pretty boy. Expected you to blow up or something,” Jason commented idly, staring at his fingernails and pretending he cared at the amount of dirt that was sitting under them. And probably some blood…
He’d get it out in a shower later, it’d be fine.
Notably, his gaze didn’t flick up like he wanted it to, aware that Dick Grayson could have the most explosive temper of them all. Jason might be the one known for his violence and willingness to kill, but there was nothing that compared to his big brother when it came to the opportunity to go nuclear on Bruce fucking Wayne.
He’d seen it so many times when he was younger. The way him and Bruce would trade verbal blows until Dick stormed off or actually threw a punch.
Alfred usually pulled him away before it got too bad when he was younger. They didn’t want Jason watching all of that, but that never stopped him from hearing most of it. No matter what Alfred tried to distract him with. Cookies could block out portions though if they retreated to a secondary kitchen.
Instead of losing it, Dick made some sort of hand gesture towards him that Jason could only assume was him being flipped off. A far cry from what he expected out of the eldest child here.
What was more confusing was the number of eyes he could feel on him.
“This is how he always handles things?” Tim’s voice was careful, eyebrows knitting together as their eyes met.
Jason couldn’t help but gape. “This? We’re talking about the same Dick Grayson standing right here? The one that used to have a mullet?” he asked, motioning dramatically to the man standing next to him. The same one that used to wear that horrendous disco costume.
Across the room, Dick had stiffened where he was taking off his gear, though he didn’t turn around yet. Uncomfortable and shifting his weight, though he hadn’t turned around as he tried to organize things and cleaned gore off of his weapons and such. “The mullet wasn’t that bad, Jay.” Like that was the important thing in this conversation.
“It definitely was,” Jason shot back. “And your atrocious fashion sense is not what we’re talking about here, Dickwad.”
“It’s bad,” Cass agreed quietly.
He threw his hands into the air, unimpressed. “We’re talking about Dick ‘Crash Out’ Grayson here, not his bad fashion sense!” he snapped.
Why the fuck did no one think anything of this?
“I think the Lazarus Pit may have ruined your memory, Todd, the only person who acts like that is you,” Damian piped up from where he was standing next to Bruce who looked just as tense.
He rounded on Dick properly now. He was not letting these children think he was insane. Sure, he missed a few years, but that didn’t mean this was something he was making up. “So they’ve never seen you have it out with the World’s Second-Best Detective?” Jason asked curiously, eyebrows knitting together.
Which was also clearly a new nickname given the way the cave exploded around them into noise.
“Second best?”
“No one is better than Father!”
“I mean, Oracle kind of is.”
“Do not insult Father’s honor!”
“Who the fuck is the first best?”
Jason’s gaze swung around without hesitation to face Steph while he answered the question.
“Nancy Drew.”
Echoed simultaneously by Dick.
Silence replaced the cacophony that had occurred moments prior before Tim’s laughter filled the air, unable to help it. How had no one informed them of all of these very important parts of their family lore? It was definitely Dick’s fault.
The look that Bruce leveled at Jason for that would have sent a lesser man crawling back into his grave, but Jason could only shrug.
It wasn’t his fault no one told the apparently incredibly uninitiated that Bruce had lost the title of first best detective. He’d have to get him a mug. If it wasn’t going to result in that sappy look on his face. It would. He’d have to find someone to blame it on.
The laughter continued to echo as the others got it out of the system while Jason’s attention returned to the eldest of their faux sibling group, watching with a slight smile. He shifted over so that he could lean against the table where Dick had been. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about this,” he warned quietly.
“That’s not me anymore, Jay,” Dick said softly, smile disappearing. Uncomfortable with the attention being returned to the original point.
The snort that escaped him was ugly. “You cannot tell me you just lost all of that anger somewhere along the way. That’s not how that fucking works, Goldie,” he shot back. He would know. It built and built until it exploded out one day.
But Dick had never kept that in before. Not when they were younger.
The man had been an explosive ball of energy in his late teenage years. Moodie and angry and always ready to fight Bruce Wayne over the smallest thing. Pulling Dick out at the last minute the way he had tonight because there was ‘something better he could be focusing on’?
That would have ended with a shouting match and Dick stomping off back to Bludhaven before Alfred and Jason could have finished making cookies.
“It is how it works now.”
His jaw nearly hit the floor. “Now? That’s how it works now?”
The other vigilantes attention was turned away, letting them talk further as they assumed it was over, muttering between them about Bruce Wayne and Nancy Drew.
Bruce was the only one that occasionally glanced at them, watching the conversation between his eldest children. Luckily, he wasn’t close enough to have any input without drawing more attention to this.
Having the man butt in on their conversation was the last thing Jason wanted to deal with today. They’d made it through patrol without any major issues which was a true accomplishment. Better not to press their luck.
“Yes. Bruce and I… made up while you were- gone,” Dick continued softly, refusing to meet his eyes.
It was impossible to imagine. Jason had seen the worst fights imaginable between those two, which said something because Jason had never had a great control of his own temper.
“You two used to almost come to blows over his shit! And what? Now you’re his lap dog?” The words were harsh, angry, albeit quietly hissed. He’d always been able to turn to Dick even when he was angry with Bruce, at least when Dick was around. Which wasn’t often, but still. He’d always known he could turn to Dick.
Dick’s head snapped up. “I am not his lapdog. I just don’t need to yell to get my point across, Jason,” he ground out back. Prodding at the fact that Jason could barely get through a few hours without yelling at Bruce.
“So you can snap at me but not him. What a hypocrite,” Jason grumbled, shoving himself off of the table next to him.
“That’s not-“
“Talk to me when you grow a spine again. Who knew that was something you could outgrow,” Jason continued like he wasn’t being interrupted.
No one was surprised to see him stalk off, peeling out of the cave without hesitation a few minutes later. Gazes turned to Dick who just sighed, shaking his head. What was there to say? No one there would understand it.
No one but Bruce and Jason had ever witnessed that kind of anger from Dick Grayson.
And no one but Jason Todd would even be willing to talk about it without losing what control he already did have. Something that Jason wasn’t currently willing to risk.