Sometimes Tim thinks, what would Jason do? Usually the answer is violent, such as punch the fucker in the face.

The first Robin was Dick Grayson. He grew up in the circus and it showed. He was vibrant, a showman. Almost flamboyant. Dick flipped whenever possible and flashed his bright colors with a brighter smile.

The second Robin was loud and abrasive and seemed reckless, but Tim knows that was more of an act than truth. Jason Todd was… forceful. Like a wolf. But Tim knows Jason was smart, too. He knew when to punch and when not to. He just didn't always use that knowledge. Bruce saw that, when the anger was stronger than strategy. He scolded Jason, tried to teach him control. Tim knew Jason was scared, deep, deep down. Jason never felt worthy of Robin.

Tim knows because he watched. For years, he followed, documented, cheered, cried, obsessed over Batman and Robin. He loved Batman and then he loved Robin. Then Robin flipped how only Dick Grayson can and Tim loved Dick and then Bruce. Then Dick moved on and Jason become Robin and Tim really loved Jason. Jason was everything Tim wanted to be.

And then Jason died. Batman lost his precious control. Gotham felt his pain as Batman became far more violent. Tim watched in horror as Bruce lost himself in darkness and sorrow and rage. Tim learned Batman cannot be corrupted, but he can be broken. As Tim called for an ambulance to save the small time thief Batman left for dead, he realized he needed to do something.

Tim is just the replacement, he knows this. He wasn't chosen because he was meant for this. Hell he wasn't even chosen at all. He made himself Robin out of necessity. For Batman's -Bruce's- sake. He made himself into what Batman needed. Because that's what you do when you love someone, right? You sacrifice yourself. You do what they need. You become what they need. Batman needed Robin. Robin was Dick. Robin was Jason. Robin wasn't Tim.

Tim emulates Jason when tactically appropriate. He does the same with Dick and Bruce, but he enjoys Jason the most. Jason was fierce and bold and strong in a way Tim can never be. But he can pretend. That's all he is, really. A pretender.

So right now there's a man shakily pointing a gun at Robin. Tim has several options for taking this guy down. His mind runs through all the flashy ways Dick would handle this, with acrobatics and cackling. Then all the Bruce options, swift and straightforward.

Tim mutters under his breath, "What would Jason do?"

The Jason in his mind barks a laugh and replies, punch the fucker in the face.

Tim does.