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Jason woke up with a killer headache, dry mouth, and no idea where he was. He shouldn't be used to the familiarity of it, but Talia had given him enough baths in the Lazarus Pit to make him lose track of time.
Being handcuffed wasn't a surprise, either: no one wanted to deal with a crazy nineteen-year-old on steroids.
What was a surprise was to find Nightwing in front of his bed.
“Oh, you're awake. We thought he would need more."
He had no right to sound so sorry. He couldn't make Jason think that she suddenly cared about him.
Seeing him there reminded him of what he had come to San Franscisco to do. He was there to settle scores with the pretender.
He'd even put an old Robin costume back on, and it was going so well. Then there was the explosion.
He growled, “You must be happy, Nightwing. You captured Red Hood.”
“Jay…”
“Don't use that tone with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don't sound sorry…unless it's a disappointment to see me alive. “
The other's jaw contracted, stung to the quick, "Don't even say that as a joke. Your death destroyed us."
“But you had no trouble replacing me right after,” he snapped.
“What a strange way to deal with pain. But Batman isn't new to replacing failures with new models, is he?"
Old Dick would then yell at him and walk away, allowing him to find a way out of the situation. This Dick, on the other hand, looked guilty, as if he knew Jason was right.
“He didn't replace you. Robin was a surprise.”
“Batman gave him a dead boy's costume. Did he want to delude himself that he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life? Does he care so little about the lives of children?”
Nightwing opened his mouth to retort, when a hesitant voice asked, "Is he awake?"
His vision blurred green. There, standing in the doorway of the room, was the boy who had dared to take his place. The boy had several bruises from Jason, a patch on his eye and was without a domino mask.
He had a familiar face that rang a bell in his head. He ignored the feeling, “You have a lot of courage to show up. I could break free and take the beating again.”
“Those are handcuffs to hold even meta humans,” the pretender said with no particular inflection in his voice.
"I'm glad I didn't accidentally kill you."
"Killed... did you cause the explosion?" he didn't remember much, except that he had been hit full blown by the blast.
He had fucking hurt. He had just been lucky that the Pit had improved him, otherwise he would have died, and he didn't want to die a second time before the bastard clown and before teaching Bruce a lesson.
“Sort of…”
He held back a laugh, “What an interesting trick. Did you foresee that someone would come and beat you up?”
"No."
He wasn't going to say more. Nightwing looked uncomfortable, "As I told you, Robin's circumstances are different."
"Yes, the circumstances of a thief."
"I haven't stolen anything," the pretender had the effrontery to say.
"What about the costume you're wearing?"
The 15-year-old grimaced, "I earned it."
"Batman didn't get the memo? No more Robin. He's not able to take care of someone without getting them killed."
"Gotham needed Robin more than Batman. I did the right thing."
"Keep telling yourself, pretender. You're a fake and…"
There was a sudden voltage drop and an electrostatic crackle above him. Jason felt the hair on his arms stand up, feeling like there was a storm brewing.
Nightwing didn't seem surprised, "Tim, calm down."
"No names when we are in costume."
"No need, Jay already knows who we are. Calm down before you blow something else up."
Jason was struck by the realization, "Is he a meta?"
He had really been replaced by an improved version. Where was the no meta rule in Gotham? Was a meta Robin better so he wouldn't die like an idiot?
Talia hadn't told him. Evidently, she wasn't as knowledgeable as she thought.
"I'm not a meta."
"You blow me up and cause brownouts, no half my ass…"
"Look, the explosion was a surprise even for me."
"Didn't you know you could do it?"
Unhappy expression, "Give me a break, okay? Zatanna told me it was a possibility but considering my father… now she is going to be unbearable about it."
"What does Zatanna have to do with it?"
Nightwing looked at Robin, as if asking permission to continue. Robin teased him, "She's my mom. Technically."
"Technically?"
"It's fucked up, but basically Zatanna from another dimension sent me here because her world was dying," he explained, and wow, he was more screwed up than he was.
Bruce couldn't find a Robin without a tragic past. The pretender had to surpass him in this too.
Mother criminal was less cool than mother who crosses the limit of space and time to save you.
The pretender's mother loved him and had tried everything for him.
How was that even right?
"I found out a few months ago when we had a visitor of that size come to ask for help. He recognized me. "
"Who was he?"
"My father," he replied, sounding miserable.
He wasn't going to say more, a sign that the guy in question was a big deal.
Looking closely at the boy, he saw a certain resemblance to Zatanna. But there was more, that same thing that had bothered him when he had seen him without a mask.
"What are you still doing here, pretender? No family reunions?"
"It's hard to go back to a family that no longer exists," the boy said frowning.
"We did our best, but it was too late. The visitor preferred to go back so as not to alter the balance of this dimension."
He shouldn't feel like shit. It was the brat who had replaced him, who hadn't had any problems in his life until he was Robin.
But he was also the last survivor of a dying world, one that had seen his father choose to die for the greater good.
Why were emotions so complicated? Anger was easy. Why couldn't he go back to hating him for taking his place?
He opened his mouth to speak—he didn't even know what to say—when Batman arrived.
He had his hood down, which wasn't like him, looking genuinely shocked. Had he learned to show emotions like normal humans in those years?
Looking at him next to the pretender, the feeling from before returned with more force. The shape of the jaw, the nose, the fucking eyes….
There was no doubt, and now he understood the reluctance to say who he was his father.
Even so, he couldn't help but blurt out, "Are you Bruce's son?!"
"Uhm…not sure," Robin replied, while Batman replied firmly "Yes."
The two looked at each other, and man, it was awkward.
If it was in the right mind of him, he would laugh. Right now, he wanted to hit someone.
One of the two in front of him, preferably.
Unless Robin blows him up again.