Okay. Jason has hated a lot of things. A lot of people. He has issues. He freely admits to them.
You get handed over to the Joker by your own mother before you're beaten an inch from death by a crowbar before you do die in a explosion. Then come back to life to find out you weren't avenged but you had been replaced as if you were nothing.
As if you weren't loved.
As if the last few years of your first life were nothing but a goddamn lie; Bruce hadn't loved you. If he had actually he wouldn't have done those things.
Go through all of that and see if you don't have issues afterwards. Really. Try it and see what happens.
Because Jason has tried and now here he is.
Rinsing and repeating.
God Jason hated motherfucking witches.
Just wait till he got back or woke up from whatever - wait there was an easy way to find out if these was a dream. He pinched himself.
Hard.
Oh yeah. He felt that. (You could dream about pinching yourself but you couldn't dream the pain of the pinch.) This wasn't a dream. He really was in his younger self's body.
And not just anytime. This was when he was Robin. When he lived with Bruce and believed the emotionally constipated asshole actually loved him. When he had been his son.
Jason really did hate his life and that motherfucking witch.
A/N: I own nothing. Can be read on archiveofourown.