"Why isn't your father behind bars?"
Her eyes flickered for only the briefest of seconds with something other than that glacier calm.
"Matthew Berkeley was released from custody because there was no evidence to support my claim that he was the one who murdered his wife."
"You saw it. You were..."
"Nine-years-old," she stated in a tone as cold as ice. "And considered an unreliable witness because I was too severely traumatized by the events."
"You were covered in the proof of it."
If she was surprised that he knew that, it didn't show. In fact, nothing showed on her face save for a weariness he understood far too well.
"Even with a mountain of physical proof staring him in the face the DA refused to prosecute."
"Gordon saw the abu-"
"No, he didn't." Her lips curved into a sad, bitter smile. "He suspected it, yes. But he never physically witnessed my father raise a hand against either my mother or myself."
"You had the power of Bruce Wayne behind you," he ground out. "That should have been enough to convince the DA to prosecute."
"Bruce couldn't buy me a conviction, Jason."
Jason scoffed. "What good is the old man's name and money if it can't ungrease a set of greased palms?"
Raya merely sniffed, once, before bestowing another of Bruce's black looks upon him. "Money," she sneered, "does not solve everything."
"You're talking to a man who has never had more than ten cents to rub together here, Kit."
She gave him a look of pity before she took a step back, turned, and made to walk away.
"Yanno, I never took Fenix for a coward," he called after her in a lazily drawled taunt. Why he couldn't keep his big fat yap shut was beyond him. It was like something was compelling him to smart off, to piss her off, to force her into a confrontation.
"You call me a coward and yet it is you who has spent the last year running and hiding from his unresolved feelings of abandonment, anger, grief, and resentment."
She brushed him off like a mosquito. Like a gnat. Not with a slash of temper but with sympathy laced with that glacier calm. Anger snapped and snarled at him. He hissed out a breath that sizzled with his impatience and frustration.
"I've neither been running," he growled. "Nor have I been hiding from anything."
"The only time you aren't running is when you are laying siege to a member of this family."
"I'm not running from anything!"
She cut him a look over her shoulder. "You've been running ever since you had your twisted little brain unscrambled by your bath with Ra's!"
"How do you know about my swim with Ra's?"
"I was told about your little swim by the same person who told you that your death was never avenged, that you were replaced by Tim, and that you had been forgotten."
"Talia," he grated out on a sigh. "Should have known she'd be the one to tell you."
"Oh, yes." Her lips curled into a wordless snarl. "Talia. An absolute paragon of virtue and truth."
"Considering I was replaced..."
"Bullshit."
"...and I was forgotten."
She scoffed. "So forgotten that Bruce refuses to take down your pictures, clean out your bedroom, or remove your old Robin suit from its display case."
"That..."
"You're so forgotten that he has Alfred set a plate for you at every dinner and family function."
"How about my death," he snarled. "What's your big answer for why it was never aven-"
"So what if your death wasn't avenged?" she snapped impatiently. "Is killing the Joker the only thing that matters to you? Or doesn't the fact that this entire family was torn apart by losing you count for nothing here?"
"He doesn't even feel remorse about not avenging my death!"
"That's because he's spent every waking moment grieving for you!" She crossed to him in four angry strides, her eyes blazing with fire and something Jason identified as guilt. About what, though?
"He didn't grieve for me-"
"Yes, he did."
"Bull."
"Bruce was like a zombie after your death," she cut in. "He pushed himself harder, took greater chances and even more risks than we had ever seen him take. He barely slept, he hardly ate and he shoved everyone, even Alfred away from him." She jabbed him in the chest with the tip of one perfectly manicured fingernail. "So, don't you dare tell me he didn't feel griefe for you. He did. And he contemplated killing that clown more times than I can count."
He took a menacing step forward.
"Then why, for the love of God, is that clown still alive? Huh? Tell me that."
"The Joker lives because it is not our way to kill. As a Robin..."
He barked a laugh. "C'mon, we both know that I was never really Robin."
"Jason..."
"Admit it, I'm the old man's greatest failure." The words cost him. Dearly. "Just like he said I was. Course, I'm not his only one. Nor am I," he continued spitefully, "gonna be the last."
"Again, Jason… you have heard what it was that Bruce had to say to you." A pause was punctuated by one long sigh that left her breath steaming in the cold air. "But you didn't bother to listen to what his actual words were."
"And I still don't need you lecturing me about the differences between hearing and listening."
"Well, you're gonna listen to me whether you like hearing what I have to say or not."
She tossed her head, sending those dark curls flying before giving him a look that just dared him to argue with her. He gave in as graciously as he could.
"Say what you wanna say and be done with it then."
"Yes, he told you he considered you a failure. Bruce says a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Yes, he may even have regretted handing the mantle of Robin to you. He fired Dick more times than I can count because of how paranoid he got over him being injured."
Triumph flashed through him. "He still regrets..."
"What he regretted," she said right over him, "was that he wasn't the parent you needed. He didn't see until it was too late that you needed what I needed: a father more than a mentor. He thought by handing you the mantle of Robin, by channeling the rage and grief inside you into physical skills you could use for good that it'd help you heal from all the crap your parents did to you. He sees himself as having failed you because he wasn't there; he wasn't what you needed. He didn't realize until it was too late that you needed him and not Batman."
Jason felt his world spinning out of control. Every word was a carefully aimed arrow that hit him where he hurt the most. He wanted to take the words and hurl them back at her, call them all lies and say it wasn't true. But he knew better. He knew this woman didn't speak unless she knew her words to be fact.
And that? he thought as he took another step toward her, is what makes her a dangerous adversary.
"I'm not gonna stand here while you analyze my relationship with Bruce. You can..."
"What?" she ground between clenched teeth. "Piss off? No."
"Kit, I'm warning you… back off. Now."
"Or you'll do what, Jason?"
It was a bold taunt.
He took another step toward her, but a warning snarl from the dog at her side made him pause. Did Krypto think he was so far gone that he'd actually hit her? I've never struck a woman in my whole life, he told the dog silently. I ain't gonna start now.
"Don't analyze my relationship with Bruce."
"You don't want me to analyze your relationship with Bruce because it's so much easier to blame him for every little problem, mistake, and wrong. You want to act like everything that has ever happened in your life is his fault." She shoved him again. "It's not his fault that your life got so screwed up!"
"It's his fault the Joker is still alive!"
"It's not his fault!" She exploded. "It's mine! You hear me? It's my fault that clown is still alive!"
"What?" He managed around the shock. "How is it your fault?"
"I stopped Batman from breaking the golden rule!" Tears pooled in her eyes and rained down her cheeks. "So, if you want to blame someone for that clown still breathing? You blame me." She smacked her hands against his chest once more. "You hear me? You blame me!"
Jason could do nothing but stare at her in stupefied silence. Did she stop Bruce from killing the Joker? But... why? He didn't know he spoke his question aloud until he heard her say, "We already let the Joker win once." Her fingers curled into the buttery folds of his leather jacket. "We let him win when we didn't stop him from killing you." Her head tipped forward then, her forehead resting against his chest. "I wasn't going to let him have Bruce, too."
Jason felt the fight go out of him. All this time he had blamed Bruce for not ending the clown and the truth was that someone had yanked him back before he took that final plunge. For several moments he could do nothing but stand there and listen to her quiet sobs. Finally, he reached up and ran a not quite steady hand over those springy curls.
"What the hell do you want from me, Kit?"
She was quiet for a number of moments. Then she whispered, "I just want you to finally look at the contents of the jar that you've been dumping on us for the last year. I want you to see those contents for what they really are and not what your Pit-warped mind and the manipulation of Talia al Ghul have twisted them into being. And I just want you to understand finally how much losing you changed this family."
"And what makes you such an expert on me? Huh?" Desperate to regain some sort of control, he grabbed her arms, and shook her, hard. Krypto muscled his way between them and shoved him back with a warning growl. He cut the superdog a scathing look before turning blazing eyes back upon the woman starting at him with red-rimmed eyes. "You don't know anything about my life! You don't know about my relationship with Bruce! So do us both a favor and shut up!"
"I know more about you than you think I do, Jason."
"Right," he scoffed. "You don't know anything."
"Oh, I don't?" Her look was all feminine smugness now. "Want me to prove you wrong?" She paused, cocked her head to the side and then sent him a lazy smirk. "Again?"
"Go ahead and try," he sneered. "I guarantee you'll lose."
A/N: Hello, all! Hope the week has been good to you!
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