There was something inside Jason – some kind of irrational anger that he couldn't control. Any different situation which he was supposed to deal with turned out to be violent and destructive. He used to punch the walls, the floor, the face of whoever were next to him. Including in his room, with a lot of fist marks, bullets and other stuff. He laughed when he looked to what he did.
"I wanna see their faces if they come here."
It had been a few days that Jason was taken to the Wayne Mansion. Obviously, not under his own will. He got hurt in a street fight, he couldn't remember it very well and was taken by Richard Grayson and Tim Drake after being found bleeding. For Jason, he would have stayed there but both of the old Robins seemed to not understand that Jason didn't need them for nothing – especially Drake, the replacement, who always tries to help. Beyond all that, he had to go to that place of hard and painful memories.
"Master Jason, please, the dinner is ready", he heard a voice behind the door.
Alfred was still the same as ever, completely loyal to the Wayne's and their adopted sons. Jason laughs again and thinks: Sucker. He would not answer that.
"Master Drake is waiting for you at the dining room."
"…"
Jason stared at the ceiling for a few more minutes. Fuck that Tim Drake. "Would I have to beat up that guy's face again? Hadn't he learned yet that Jason didn't even want to look at his face? Just having to breath the same air of the Red Robin made Jason feel a kind of uprising– even more when he was around Dick Grayson or that shitty brat Damian Wayne. He took a deep breath. Unfortunately, he was hungry.
"Tell him to fuck himself." was what he could say.
Jason waited a while then left the room, marching and going down the stairs. He was pissed again.
"Good morning Jay", Tim Drake was expecting him with a smile, messy hair and a sleepy face.
"…Shut the fuck up, will ya? – Jason sits on the other side of the table – "And if you call me Jay again I swear I'll fucking kill ya'.
The Red Robin smirks and it makes the Red Rood more pissed.
"Something funny, you little shit?!"
"Your hair."
Jason turns his look at the big mirror on the dining room. His hair was all messed up, the white streak down to his face, looking like a child who just woke up. Jason feels the cheeks blushing.
"Tsc, yours is not so much better, Drake."
"You can call me Tim." Red Robin look at Jason with a serious look. "There's no need for formalities, we are brothers."
"I'm not your brother." Jason roll the eyes. "You guys have the bad habit of thinking we're a happy family. Family don't let the other die." Jason's heart was burning again.
"I know…" Tim looked sad. "I know all you've been through…"
For a moment, Jason felt a bit upset. That was the first time someone felt bad about it. Bruce was always so serious and Dick tried always to be like him, and Damian, well…that shitty brat was a pain.
"And", Tim continues "I get it you can't stand me. That day we fought, I realized how much you're strong. I could feel the hate through your fists, Jay…but I want you to know that I never asked to be a replace-
Jason beats his hands hard on the table.
"I never asked for your pity, Drake. I'm coming back to my room. Eat alone, bastard."
"It's not pity", Tim looks at Jason. "I could never understand what happened to you, but I still want to be your friend".
"Wait, what?" Jason seemed incredulous.
"You don't let anyone comes closer to you, you're always alone and get hurt in the streets…"
"…", Jason is still speechless.
Alfred arrives with the food and starts to serve.
"Enjoy your meal".
Jason felt his heart pounding faster in the chest, and for the first time in long years, the anger gave place to another feeling. No one ever tried to be so close before…
"Shut up Drake." Was the only thing he could say.
Jason had been locked in his room for more than four hours. The wounds were almost completely healed, so he could not wait to get out of there. Took a look to his own arms with so much scars of knives, bullets and all the kind of weapons that are being used in Gotham. They would never known what Jason was doing for that city. It could hurt. He was prepared. Neither Bruce nor anyone could understand that it was what the city needed. Order, through fear or whatever. Jason was a dangerous man - he had already lost count of how many he had already killed, whether in anger or not.
He began to curl bands around his arm again with bandages, and then there were a few knocks on the door.
"Who is it?"
No one answers and the beats continue.
Fuck.
He hits his foot firmly on the floor and opens the door quickly.
...?!
"Erm ... hi Jason." Tim was standing at the door in casual clothes that looked more like pajamas holding a CD case.
"... What do you want?" Jason gives a sigh.
"I thought we could play...s-something?" Tim looked rather insecure, looking around.
"Play...?"
"Video game! In your room you also have one!", he points and Jason follows.
"Oh really?"
"Oh, come on, you haven't played anything in a while, have you?" Tim's coming into the room.
"I do not remember-"
"What happened here?" - Tim looks at the walls.
"The same thing that will happen to you if you don't leave now." Jason responds sharply.
"You're not going to hit me." - Tim looks at him -
"...", Jason tries to face the pair of blue eyes back, but gives up. "OK. What do you have there?"
"Come and see if you like any."
Jason opens the CD case and finds some games he always wanted to play, he just couldn't. The Gotham dealers needed an end, so he couldn't even think about stopping to play video games. But there, at that moment, it did not seem to be a bad thing ...
"This one." Jason chooses and delivers the CD to Tim.
"I'm going to smash you on this one." Tim smirks and Jason stares at him.
"We will see"
A few hours passed and Jason had forgotten what it was like to laugh and make jokes with someone. Tim could be a lot of fun - if he was not a sucker. That was what Jason kept in mind. The two exchanged little punches to tease while they played.
"I beated you, you little brat!" Jason beats lightly at Tim's shoulder.
"Argh. After a lot of time catching up." Tim gives a chuckle.
"Also, you're a nerd who should not even step out in front of a video game."
"Take it back, Jay!"
"I told you not to call me Jay!" - Jason pushes Tim back lightly -
Tim, laughing, pushes Jason back harder, and so the joke continued, until Jason pushed Tim back so hard, holding his arms to the ground.
"See? I'm stronger."
The younger boy was still laughing, his face blushed by the fun, and the hair was over his face. Jason touched his black hair. He looked at Tim below him and felt that strange thing again. That strange heat. That heat in the chest and…
"Huh…? What is this?"
"Jay? Something happened?" Tim gets up and touches him on the shoulder.
"S-shit" - Jason growls – "Get out of my room! Now!"
Tim looks at him uncomprehendingly, somewhat hurt by the situation.
"Did I do something...?"
At the same moment, a voice is heard from the door.
"What are you doing there?" - the tall young man with black hair, along with a mini version of Bruce Wayne appears in the doorway -
"Dick? Damian?" - Tim looks at them. "We were playing video games and ..."
Tim glances at Jason, whose face was twisted from something he could not identify.
"Were they playing without me ?!" - Damian Wayne speaks in a thin voice – "I'm going to kill you, bastards!"
"Take it easy, Damian." says Dick Grayson in a low voice. "They were just afraid of losing to you." - the brunette laughs -
Damian and Dick go inside the room and pick up the controls. This made Jason distracted a little from what had happened earlier. The other boys laughed and also had fun, causing Jason to crack a joke or another and everyone laugh. He avoided looking at Tim Drake. He wanted to stay away from him while he could understand what had happened. Damian screamed loudly and was rude, but it was funny. Looking at the four of them together in the bedroom, it even gave the impression that this could really be a family - four siblings playing on a weekend. He let out a sigh. Unfortunately, it could never really happen.
As soon as they finished playing and each went to each other room, Tim Drake took one last look at Jason before leaving. Jason just looked away. That kid was different from the other two. There was something that started to annoy Jason a lot. And for the first time that day, Jason punched the wall. So hard that it made his knuckles bleed. He struck again, feeling that anger again. It could be on his face, couldn't? Take that angelic expression off that face.
One more punch.
He'd already lost a few nights of sleep thinking about him. Seeing photos of him. The replacement. Who should die. Who took your place. Who Bruce liked better...
One more punch.
I hate you, Tim Drake. Why ... did he have to be so frail around me?
The sight of Tim lying beneath him that afternoon, laughing, innocent face, blue eyes ...
One more punch.
It would have been so much easier to kill him ... But now ...
And countless punches were given that night, on the hard, cold wall.
Leaving traces of blood equally cold in white paint.