#bruce01

Rumour had it that HE was in the city. And Jason hunted him down, of course he would attempt to do so. Still, he took his time, gathering intel, figuring out his patrol patterns, scheduling the moment of their meeting in perfect detail. He wanted to be ALONE with him, with no intervention from anyone or anything. He needed this, he didn’t care if Bruce might have insisted otherwise. It wasn’t up to him to decide, no, Jason wanted this confrontation and he WAS going to receive it. 

Too many times he tried to reconcile, to FORGIVE him, but every single, every damn time something pushed him away, giving him more reasons to be angry at his old mentor, his friend and..the closest thing that he could ever get to a father. It wasn’t like he craved to be angry, full of anger and that feeling of satisfaction from seeing people in pain, and yet he still managed to receive it. There was a time that he wished for Bruce to DIE, so angry with him and his choices, but he grew up, grew saner after his return to the land of the living.

His anger issues were hard to resolve, and it seemed that meetings with Bruce and Dick made them worse. It wasn’t a coincidence that both of those people held the Batman mantle, and this was exactly what Jason hated; the Batman ideology, his lectures about morality that didn’t mean a damn to him, he made his own god damn agenda.

And yet, there he was, a wooden knife, carved to the most of its abilities, held against a petty thief’s throat, helmet on as he looked at the Bat’s shadow creeping in the alley.