"You really need to watch where you're going."

I groan as I sit up. I'm back in my bedroom, lying on the bed. Someone shoves a glass of ice water into my hands. Rubbing my sandpaper-like tongue on the roof of my mouth, I drain the cup of every last drop of water.

"Careful, you don't wanna get sick. And I'm not cleaning it up if you do."

I throw a look at the voice who, of course, turns out to be Jason. His helmet sits on my desk which the only source of light, my lamp, rests on. I glance at the clock to see its 2:45 in the morning. Great.

"Considering you're in my room at almost three o'clock in the morning," I say as I pull my hair into a ponytail, "I'm gonna take a guess and say Tim told you what happened."

"Actually, it was Dick."

"Dick?" I repeat. "I thought you didn't talk to anyone but Tim?"

"Dick usually ignores me, but he knows what's been going lately, so he figured I deserved to know that you ran yourself into an alley."

I think he just insulted me. Again. "Did he tell you who I was chased by?"

Jason nodded. "Joker's henchmen. Don't worry, I'm going figure out what the Joker wants."

I scoff, "Jason, he wants you. I just don't know what for."

"He probably wants to finish the job."

"Don't talk like that!" I yell. Just what I need, someone else to leave me.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jason promises. "I'm not letting paint-face get me again." He sweeps up his helmet from the desk. Before he turns to leave, Jason gently touches my stitches, his mouth and eyebrows giving away the emotion that hides behind his mask.

My life seems to fall into a routine for the next few weeks. At school, I use my free time with Tim, talking about his "adventures" and the crazy conversations between him and the former Robins. When I come home, I take time in between homework sessions to help Mom out until it's time for her to leave for the hospital. As soon as Mom's gone, Jason arrives and I get spend an hour or two talking.

I don't get a lot out of Jason. I mean, I got him to talk about the Batcave and things like that, but nothing personal. It's driving me insane.

"But what was your life like before Bruce took you in?" I asked again.

Jason is leaning against my window seat, his arms crossed. "It doesn't matter what my life was like then."

"Oh, but it matters what I got for my fourth birthday?" I ask with huge amounts of sarcasm. "You keep saying that you want to know everything about me, but getting to know someone is a two way street."

"Hey, you know my favorite color," he replies, ignoring the real argument.

I throw my hands up in the air. "I can't just assume that it's red. It could have been purple for all I know."

"I think purple is a color we can rightfully rule out."

Okay, point taken. I stick my tongue out at him.

"I still think you could let me in as much as I have let you in," I say softly. "It took a lot for me to crack open my walls for you. All I'm asking is that you do the same."

Jason sits on my window seat, sighing. "The people who raised me until I was ten were scum. My father was a petty crook who never came home after his sentence was over. My adoptive-mother died of a drug overdose."

I place my hand over my mouth to cover up my gasp. "I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter," he answers as he shakes his head. "A few weeks later, Bruce catches me trying to steal the tires off of the batmobile. He took me in once he found out I didn't have anywhere to go. He helped me channel my anger. Something I have lost since then, but I'm trying to get back."

I just let a smile pull at the corner of my mouth. He told me more than what I had asked for.

"What?' he asks.

I lift my shoulders. "You're letting me."

"I don't know why," he mumbles. "I'm not an expressive person."

"Well, neither am I. But sometimes you find that person you know will listen."

Jason half-smiles at me. He knows I'm right. We both seemingly found that person.

Jason tells me more about growing up with Bruce, about they didn't always get along and that there were times he went too far to stop a criminal. It was nice just to listen to him for once. His voice was rough and harsh, but still deep and somewhat soothing.

But Jason wasn't the only superhero in my life.

Lately, I have also found myself leaving the campus during free time with Tim more and more. Poor Kim hardly sees me anymore. Granted I don't see much of her either. I normally did the sneaking out with Kim about once a month, but now she had her boyfriend, Jake, to occupy her time.

Tim and I were sitting outside the coffee shop down the road when Tim lands a bombshell.

"So Bruce really has no idea that I know?" I ask as I take a sip of my Irish cream latte. Jason had mentioned anything about it either way, but I'm still surprised.

"Bruce doesn't even know that I work with Jason several times a week," Tim laughs. "Bruce likes to think he knows everything, but a lot of things slip through the cracks."

"But almost a month ago, I was in the Batcave and Alfred stitched my forehead up."

"Yeah," he nods, "but he thinks you just know about all of us in the masks. He's not sure if you know about the people behind them."

"Well, of course I do." I take another sip of my drink.

"So, what do the two of you do, anyway?" Tim prods. He's so nosey sometimes. He calls it "detective work."

I shrug, "We just talk, mostly."

"About what?"

My eyebrows pull together. "Mostly about me and my life. We hardly ever talk about him. It's kind of annoying, really. But lately I've been getting him to open up more."

Tim smirks, "But you secretly enjoy the attention on you."

I stop mid sip. "What makes you say that?"

"You never talk about yourself. You're always the one who listens to everyone else's problems without ever venting yourself."

I sigh, "I don't really vent. If anything, I just talk about my past, my family, things like that. I'm afraid that if I start venting about my trigonometry teacher, he'll realize that I'm nothing special. That I'm just like every other whiny high school girl. Then he'll be gone."

I slowly twirl my straw around in my now cold coffee. I've never voiced that fear before, but it's true. I'm still not entirely sure what keeps Jason around. I mean, I listen to him and we get along fine, but adopted son a billionaire? He could get any model that he wanted. Jason wasn't bad looking either.

Tim smiles at me, "You are special, Ronnie. You know how to take care of yourself. You're not afraid to speak your mind when stupid people are being really stupid."

Well, that shut me up. But Tim wasn't done.

"At the same time, you have flaws. You jump to conclusions and you love to argue."

"I do not!"

Tim raises an eyebrow. Okay, maybe he's right.

I shrink back into my chair. Well, I don't necessarily love to argue, I just do it a lot. I blame it on growing up with my brother.

"I'm still not convinced that he's not going to just disappear one day," I admit.

"Good," Tim nods. "But he really might. Not saying that he'd do it on purposed. It's just best to be prepared."