Dick ignored the glare burning into his back as he typed at the batcomputer.

"Tt." Damian stood up and walked into him brother's line of sight. "We should be looking for them."

Dick felt a muscle in his eyelid twitch. "I already said no, Damian. I'm leaving them alone. If they do something criminal, then we take them out."

Damian growled. "Why wait? We know they'll go rogue! Todd is a madman and Drake is an imbecile. There's no way they'll function properly, we should take them down now."

Dick hit the enter key a little too hard. "That's not how justice works! First lesson of being Robin, you listen to Batman, no questions."

"Tt," muttered Damian.

…..

"No! I'm not carrying that!" Tim said emphatically.

"You are if you want be Robin," Jason countered, shoving the gun at Tim. "Put it on."

Tim crossed his arms. "My new costume doesn't even have a place to put it."

Tim's new costume was designed with intimidation in mind. It had gold belts crossed over the chest, with a buckle where they crossed containing a black silhouette of a bird head on a red background. The main part of the costume was a red shirt, black pants and boots, a black cape lined with yellow, and a black cowl coming to a beak-like point in the middle of Tim's face completed the look.

Jason tossed a thigh holster at him. "Now you do. Wear it."

Tim grumbled as he strapped it to his leg. "Fine. But I'm not using it unless-"

Jason waved his hands. "Yes, I know, morals, rules, values, I get it."

Tim gingerly picked up the gun and examined it. "Can I modify it to shoot batarangs?"

"Do you want me to modify your face?"

"Eesh, tetchy."

Jason finished gearing up. "Ready to patrol?"

Tim grinned. "Always."

….

Gotham was busy tonight, so after three muggings and an attempted robbery, Jason and Tim found themselves on top of the Iceberg Lounge. Tim listened, but instead of the usual sounds of music and laughter that emanated from the lounge, he heard sudden gunshots and screams.

Jason unclipped his grapple gun from his belt. "Let's get outta here."

Tim looked up, confused. "Go? Something's going on in there!"

Jason shrugged. "Whoever is in there probably deserves whatever's happening. Let's go."

Tim didn't move. "Maybe they do, maybe they don't. I can't just leave when people are in danger, Batman, no matter who they are."

Jason took a step closer, looming over Tim. "Choose your battles wisely, bird boy. I won't always fight them beside you."

Tim didn't move. "I chose to be your Robin, and now I choose to fight this," he said, gesturing at the Iceberg Lounge. "And I will do it with or without you. But I'm asking you for your help."

Jason stepped back. "Well spoken. You must do really well at inspirational speeches. Alright, let's go save the undeserving scum."

"I'll go in the back?" Tim asked, pulling his grapple out.

Jason nodded. "But after this, we have an errand to run. And you're not allowed to protest."

"Where are we going?" Tim asked with a frown.

"Relax, Robin. We're simply taking what is ours."

…..

Dick stared at the Batcave in shock. It had been scavenged of almost half its contents.

"Damian?"

Damian shrugged. "I didn't do it. Maybe Pennyworth did."

Dick raised his eyebrows at this theory, then sighed. "I think I know who did it."

"Who?"

Dick pointed at the now empty glass case that had once held the second Robin's costume.

"Oh. Now are we going after them?"

"… I'll think about it."

…..

Tim finished setting up the computer in the new Batcave, as Jason put batarangs and other weapons in drawers.

"We'll eventually need to buy weapons and gear of our own, instead of 'borrowing' stuff from Dick," Tim said.

"You're CEO of Wayne Enterprise, Right?" Jason asked, dropping into a chair next to Tim. "You'll figure something out."

"Maybe I can get control of the R and D," Tim mused. "That'd be pretty useful. Uh," Tim swiveled his chair to face Jason. "Speaking of useful things, I don't suppose you've thought of a cover story?"

Jason's brow furrowed. "A cover story?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, for why you're not, you know, dead."

Jason stared at him.

"Because people are going to want to know…" Tim trailed off not liking the glint in Jason's eye.

"Tell them to mind their own business, and stay out of mine," snapped Jason, abruptly turning and walking across the bunker.

"I'll think of something," Tim said to himself.

Across the room, Jason took a few deep breaths, trying to resists the urge to go beat up a few criminals to get rid of his rage.

He was fine. Completely fine. No way could the nerd have known that talking about a cover for his death would bring back all the anger he had felt when he first returned to Gotham city.

Kid didn't deserve to be beaten bloody for accidently bringing up a topic Jason hated.

Jason decided the best way to deal with this was to ignore it until next patrol, then take it out on some deserving scum. What could go wrong with that?

Or…

Jason slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a card. On it was the number of a physiatrist. Maybe…

Nah.

Not today.

Today he'd deal with this himself.

Jason walked back across the room and tapped Tim on the shoulder. "Come on; let's get some food and talk 'back from the dead' strategy."

Tim got up and followed him, muttering something about mood swings, and Jason suppressed a grin.

This might just work.