It Sucks Being the Eldest, Yet Again

Number 41: Sick Day

Dick and Jason shared a room together and slept in a bunk bed with Dick on the bottom; he didn't mind too much because Jason had the tendency to roll off the bed. Amusing, yes, but at the same time it reminded Dick that Jason's vocabulary consisted of swear words and things he himself would never say. It was seven o'clock and Dick was going to have to drop Jason off at school by nine, might as well wake him up now. As the older Robin made a move to get out of the bed, his brother coughed and choked before a rain of orange-yellow slime rained down on the floor in front of their bed. Dick sighed and climbed out the back way, stepping around Jason's insides and throwing the door open.

"Jason isn't going to school today, Alfred. Can you get Tim up?"

"He's already at school, Master Grayson." Dick rolled his eyes and walked back into his room, Jason was leaning dangerously over the side of the bed and drops of saliva and sweat fell from his face. Dick scaled the foot of Jason's bed and hefted the slightly taller male into his arms, warning him not to puke all over him.

What Dick would do next is strip Jason down and get him into a bath tub of warm water, check his temperature, clean and clothe him, then put him up in Bruce's room with a bowl of chicken soup.

Number 42: It Wasn't Me

"Well is certainly wasn't Alfred. Come on guys, who did it?" Dick gestured furiously at his neon pink hair and purple lipstick along with his nails that were painted lime green with black dots. Jason was trying to hold in his laughter and failing; Tim was stunned stupid; and Damian was just shaking his head. Dick narrowed his eyes at Jason and sunk into a stance, roaring and throwing himself forward. Meanwhile, all eyes were on Barbara as she slipped out the back door, pink hair dye, purple lipstick, along with green and black nail polish in hand.

Number 43: Even Angels Fall

Dick hadn't made it to his room in time and he sure as Hell couldn't move if he wanted too.

Jason was dead. Murdered. Blow up. Gone.

Dick hadn't felt this kind of pain in years, where his heart was being ripped apart by guilt and overwhelming sorrow. Dick curled into himself, wrapped his arms around his knees and drew them close to his chest, rocking back and forth with the intent to hold onto his sobs until someone came and found him in this great empty space, the old mansion devoid of any laughter. Jason made everyone laugh at one point or another, now that same mirth would be gone forever.

He couldn't make it to the phone to call Babs and he couldn't call out for Alfred. He was alone. Alone in his grief, alone to wallow in it.

"Jay…Jay…I'm sorry…I'm sorry."

Number 44: Brothers

Dick had been chasing him for five hours, dodging gunfire and avoiding the searchlights. He just had to make a spectacle of himself, had to anger too many damn people in the same damn place. Dick didn't care who they were or why they were also chasing Red Hood, Dick had only one thing on his mind.

"You leave me no choice, Jay!" Dick rammed his body into Jason's and wrapped a hand around Jay's knee, snapping it and causing a surprised yelp from his brother. Even injured, Jay could still pack a punch and he turned on Dick with such ferocity that the elder had no time to block the fist to his face.

"Butt out, Dick!"

"Not on your life!" Dick flew forward and pinned Jason on his back, kneeing his stomach a few times before flipping him onto his stomach and tying his wrists together.

"What the Hell are you doing!" Dick touched a pressure point on Jason's neck and lowered himself to the criminal's ear.

"Being your older brother."

Number 45: Competition

Blue on blue. Black on black. Clenched fists. Narrowed eyes. Brows furrowed in concentration. Lips pressed together in a tight line-

Blink!

"Looks like I win again."

"You cheated."

"Don't be a sore loser, Damian."

"I'll stop being a "sore loser", as you put it, when you stop being such a dick."

Number 46: Training

Watching Tim and Damian train was like watching a fox and ferret fight.

Tim was a clever fighter, aiming for weak spots and nimbly dodging anything that came too close to him.

Damian was smaller but he slipped out of Tim's grip and uh…bit Tim whenever the opportunity presented itself.

If you were to add Jason into the picture, it would be like fighting a giant wolf-like bear. Jason likes toying with his opponents before he overpowers them with sheer strength which is a mix of controlled rage or furious fury.

Dick never knew what the others classified him as but he considered himself a falcon of sorts. A great bird of prey that attacked weaker links and carried them off to finish them off slowly, one-by-one.

Though, finding the weak link among his brothers always proves to be quite a challenge but then again, he likes challenges.

Number 47: Quiet Nights

Those don't exist.

No amount of duct tape and bring silence to the Wayne household unless Bruce himself is wielding the adhesive.

Number 48: Babysit

If Dick can't do it, Alfred can. And if that fails….

We're all screwed.

Number 49: Me Time

Dick has no time for that.

Number 50: Age

"Hey, you're getting pretty old, aren't you Dickie?"

"Jason, I will stuff your head down the toilet."

"I think I see a few grey hairs."

"Jason…"