Send my regards to Hell

      Normally she would waste no time opening with her usual quips but today she was beaten to the punch, a pleasant surprise. She could only imagine how much Bruce appreciated his snark, not much at all, if she had to guess. ❝How about a paw? Without the claws, of course.❞ That statement alone should suffice, she had been more than happy to oblige. 

“Not bad”, he agreed, giving her a subtle nod, even though one could hardly tell that the helmet moved in the slightest bit. Her goggled were probably equipped with night vision anyway, as did his own helmet. Still, he moved under the streetlight, bringing some light unto him once she made it known that she was indeed alone.

Instead she took to approaching the two with a level-expression, her arms left by her sides. ❝I don’t care if there’s no real laws here…❞ she began, her voice growing ever irritated by each word. ❝But a dagger? Words can cut sharper than that. You should try try using them sometime.❞

“Oh, really? And what about all that crap that people give you about having to enjoy what you do for a living? Now, it seems that I got everything wrong”, he snorted. The criminal wasn’t worthy of his time, that was for sure.

“Just get the hell out of here”, he mumbled as he pulled back, but not before kicking the thief away, dropping on the wet pavement, running away from them without even looking back.

Those were the only words he could think of in the moment. He went too far and now he’s regretting every moment. Jason is on par with the skills of Batman. Only Batman knows how to wear out the Red Hood. Dick was always along the ride, providing back up. However, he’s too soft, he attempted to make contact and negotiate. Being the support began to wear him out. Then Dick pondered, was it worth it? Jason is the horse in the saying ‘you can lead a horse to water but not force him to drink’. 

After all these years attempting to make good on his word, Jason attacks. He became tired of doing the right thing and never receiving tolerance from the Red Hood. He was tired that Jason wouldn’t budge. He’s far too gone, isn’t he?

No.

Dick would not let himself fail Jason again. Even if he pulls a dagger out on his throat.

The reaction time is quick; Dick puts his arm in between Jason’s forearm and his throat. It keeps the blade from sinking any deeper. However the sting was unbearable. It felt similar to a thousand needles against his throat. He pushes up, though the blade just angles ever so slightly. If he continues to push, the tip of the knife will be in his throat.

I have one chance. Okay, Grayson, do it.

“It’s not your style, there’s your reason.”

He pushes up and the knife begins to slide into his flesh. He wants Jason to see his blood, his wound, and he hopes there will be a pang of guilt or remorse for the attack. Dick somehow manages to remain calm. He forgets all fear of injury and death, focusing on Jason’s next move.

The blood was dripping out, dirtying his dagger and glove, and behind his gritted teeth which made a terrifying sound, he hated this so much. What he hated even more, was the fact that he left his helmet in the safehouse before they stepped outside, and that Dick could so clearly see his conflicted emotions.

Despite that, he pressed the dagger against his neck, just a tiny bit, just so he could get the satisfaction of hurting Dick himself, before pulling it away, dropping Dick’s head on the pavement. No, he needed to maintain his image, his air of authority when it came to the first Robin. After all, how could he even forget all the times that they went against each other, especially during his time as Batman?

“You’re fucked up, Grayson”, he huffed, still not removing himself from Dick, licking the dagger clean, a demonstration of exactly how sane he is himself. “Next time, I might not be as charming and gentle with you, so watch that big, pretty mouth of yours, you hear me?”

     ❝You think that’ll HELP?❞ Her voice echoed through the near-empty alley, though even then her figure could hardly be seen. It was atop the roofing where she stood, eyes narrowed at the scene settled before her. Red Hood was unsurprisingly taking justice to his own hands.

The only issue being how unsavory his methods tended to be.

Oh, he knew that she was questioning his methods, always did, but he didn’t care as long as he got the job done. Plus, it did feel incredibly good.

“We’re not trying to dictate–”

The words are cut off as the fist collides into his jaw. He feels his tooth loosening under the pressure. Internally, Dick praises his strong set of teeth. He doesn’t realize until it’s too late: he’s falling. He forces himself to wake up from the dizziness that Jason put him in; right on time, he curls his head upward and launches his elbow out to catch his body on the ground.

However, he’s stuck on t he ground soon as Jason climbs on to of him. Dick would shield himself but the other left a wide opening. He reaches up to grab Jason’s jacket and jerks him forward, slamming his forehead into his nose. He hears a loud snap; Dick’s hard head cracks the cartilage in Jason’s nose.

“We’re not trying to do anything more than become family, you jerk!”

Oh, what a complete and utter asshole, there was no way Dick wasn’t asking for it when he headbutted him in the kind of brutality that Bruce would have scolded him for using years ago. But no, Bruce and Dick both didn’t seem to be holding back whenever they crossed paths, hissing and growling and fighting like pure animals, forgetting all about the supposedly family element of their relationship.

He screamed when he got the hit on his nose, and he knew straight away that it was broken, the blood dripping down on Dick’s face. The sight was alluring, to say the least, even though he was furious, he was also excited to see him in equal pain and anger, so much for the perfect and calm Bow Wonder that thought he could ever be a better Batman than himself.

He sat back, still not removing himself completely from Dick, and smiled widely as he wiped his bloody nose, the blood smeared across his lips and cheeks. There was a line and Dick had definitely crossed it, so much that Jason took out the dagger that was given to him when he first ended up there, pressing it against Dick’s  throbbing neck.

A shrug.