Chucky_the_bat

"-Your bitch ass could neck a giraffe from a mile away if you had the range," Jason continued to hiss incredulously, thrusting his beer into Bruce's face. "Don't gimmie that shit; 'I was aiming for your hand'," He mocked. "-MOTHERFUCKER, FROM THREE FEET AWAY IF YOU WERE AIMING FOR MY HAND I'D HAVE A FUCKING HOOK RIGHT NOW."

Dick's giggles returned anew, and Bruce shot him a dirty look. Jason slammed back onto his seat, satisfied with his statement, and Bruce huffed out a breath before picking up and swigging back more of his drink, plonking it back down. "Listen- now listen to me, Jaylad," He determined, leaning forward so he could point his figures at the table in demonstration. Jason fluttered his eyes and plastered on an overly attentive face, humming obnoxiously. Alcohol didn't just make Jason loud, it also made him a little prick. "You were here, on the other end of the rooftop, see? And I was all the fucking way over here, see that? See?" He matched his son's dramatics, widening his eyes and motioning with his fingers over-zealously. Dick snorted into his drink and grinned widely, not drunk enough to get involved but tipsy enough to really enjoy the conversation he was witnessing. "I could not get to you before you did shit, Jason, and you had a gun you were waving around, talking shit about how I needed to kill the damn Joker for you,"

"To prove- TO PROVE," Jason drawled, interrupting, tipping his head back so he could argue at the ceiling. "THAT YOU LOVED ME, MY DAD,"

"MOST KID'S ASK FOR FUCKING CARS." Bruce threw his hands in the air. Jason opened his mouth, still staring at the chipped paint above, but before he could get any words out he broke out into a loud wheeze. His head flopped forward and he leant on an elbow, nodding down at the invisible diagram on the table.

"Yu-huh," He prompted lazily, and Bruce continued with an aura of self-importance, hands back in position.

"You were clearly mentally unstable, you were crying,"

"-He was crying?!" Dick perked up, eyes shining with glee as he looked between the two.

"Oh give it a rest," Jason snapped over at him, flipping him off and the using the same hand to throw back another slug of his drink. "You cried watching Shark Tale. And you-" His scrutiny turned to Bruce once more, "-You; what kinda bullshit toxic masculinity is that?! You see me crying and think 'oh I'll give you something to cry about' and try to slice my neck?"

Bruce's hands slammed onto the table, jostling their empty bottles with each word, "I. WAS. AIMING. FOR. YOUR. HAND. YOU- you- you," He jabbed a finger in Jason's direction, who stuck his tongue out and hummed antagonistically. "Don't get to say shit about this, ok? You were crying, I was crying, I was freaking out because I'd only just realised you were even still alive, and when I said I wouldn't kill the Joker you said that I had to pick between having him or you and then you started lifting the fucking hand holding the fucking gun-!"

Sometimes Dick wondered if Jason's usual levels of attitude were just a gift from his time on the streets, or perhaps a lingering effect of being in the league for so long. Then, Bruce would consume approximately one single finger of whiskey and get like this, and Dick would once again be reminded that blood relation be damned; like father like son.

Jason's face morphed back into an expression of incredulity and he scoffed. "Fuck you mean, you were crying? You weren't crying."

"THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW, JASON!?" Bruce yelled indignantly, gesturing with his fingers on the table like a mad man. "LOOK AT THE ROOF- I WAS FAR AWAY!" The man behind the bar looked over at the trio in the corner with a concerned look for about... the fourteenth time that night. Dick gave him a cheery grin and raised his almost-empty bottle in acknowledgement before throwing the rest of it back and gesturing for another round. "I WAS FREAKING OUT- for all I fucking knew, Jaylad, you were raising the gun up to shoot yourself. I thought you were about to commit suicide in front of me! I freaked out and my first instinct was to disarm you," Jason's mouth dropped open wide in offense, leaning away from the table, but Bruce just held up a finger and kept on talking. "-but you-, BUT YOU-"

"HOLD ON," Jason tried to interrupt. "HOLD ON, I SAID- I SAID I WAS GONNA KILL JOKER IF YOU DIDN'T,"

"-YOU LIFTED THE FUCKING GUN UP TOWARDS ONE OF YOUR HEADS, AND I PANICKED-,"

"-IF YOU WEREN'T FUCKING LISTENING TO ME THEN THAT'S ON YOU, BRUCE."

As they yelled over each other the slightly scared bartender approached the table, hesitantly placing three more bottles on their table and quickly retreating without a word. Jason and Bruce snatched up their next drinks and continued without blinking.

"I thought you were suiciding!" Bruce repeated hotly, voice slightly high-pitched from frustration. "In front of me! I was freaking out!"

Jason blew a raspberry. "Why would I suicide?! Do you know how long it took me to dig my way out last time?!"

"I WASN'T THINKING STRAIGHT!" Bruce finally took notice of the bottle in his hand and he squinted at it, grunting. "...Did we order these?"

It was at this point that Dick's drunken laughter, which up until that point had been covered by his brother's and father's boisterous yells, was finally audible. They both turned to stare at the way he was hunched over, half falling off his stool and barely holding himself upright against the wall with one hand while he breathlessly gasped through his cackles.

"What the fuck?" Jason barked. Dick moved himself forward to put his arms on the table, skin sticking tot he surface, and he moved to bury his face in them.

"I'm just- I'm just-" He giggled helplessly, trying to catch his breath, and then peeked up at them. "What do you mean- what do you mean he thought you were about to kill yourself?" He squeaked, far too amused. "And his first- his instinctual reaction was to stop you by decapitating you?!"

Bruce's brow furrowed, glancing between Dick and Jason as Jason started fighting down a smile. "No- hold on, no, no-,"

"And I'm just-" Dick wheezed, covering his face again as his shoulder trembled continuously. "Do you think that's like- a Batman thing?" Jason caught the infectious notion of Dick's laughter, Bruce watching them both furiously as they started to break down together. Dick gasped out, "Like for Batman it's like- like 'Batman can't let somebody kill themselves because that's neglect of duty, so what's the only sure-fire way of making people unable to kill themselves?'"

Jason nods his head, catching Dick's joke and cackling madly. He slapped the surface of the table, tilting his head back to shriek at the ceiling, "THE ONLY- THE ONLY LOOPHOLE FOR THE NO-KILL RULE,"

"I can imagine him talking," Dick's voice was starting to sound slightly like a chipmunk from how hard he was trying to fight through his laughter, and he brought a finger up to wipe at the wetness rapidly gathering under his eyes. "I can imagine the conversations with Commissioner Gordon, where- where Gordon's like-" He wheezed abruptly, leaning forward, and Jason copied him, grabbing his arm to keep them upright and going red from effort. "Gordon's like-, 'so Batman, that suicidal person we tipped you off on, how did it go? Are they safe?' And- and B just stares at them for a really long time, just-"

"-'Well they didn't kill themselves,'" Jason continued through giggles, still leaning into Dick's space and clutching at him to keep them both upright.

"So what did you do with them?" Dick mockingly continued his character, attempting to smooth out his face for the roleplay, and Jason choked on his own spit before answering pseudo-seriously.

"Well, I shot them."

They both collapsed again, bottles hastily placed back on the table so they could freely fall over without spilling anything. Bruce watched them with thunder on his face as they both tipped off of their stools, fisting each other's shirts and wheezing in unison. They eventually caught their breath enough that Dick was able to choke some words out, tears freely streaming down his face at this point.

"-Can you- can you imagine if he'd had a gun on the roof?!"

Bruce threw his hands in the air in defeat as they both instantly collapsed back onto the floor like a puddle of Waynes.

"FUCKING- FUCKING-" Jason wept from the floor, shrieks of laugher echoing out from the trembling figure in a state next to him. "HE SEES ME WITH A GUN AND THINKS I'M ABOUT TO KILL MYSELF, AND HE'S JUST LIKE 'NOPE', AND SHOOTS ME IN THE FUCKING FACE-,"

"Please," Dick trembled, "I'm gunna wet myself,"

Jason squeaked and buried his face in Dick's shoulder, chest heaving for breath. Above them, Bruce took a single solitary sip of beer, glaring down at his two eldest petulantly.