Dick knew he wasn't perfect.
He did. He really did, regardless of whatever everyone else said, whatever they believed. He wasn't perfect, he was never going to be perfect, and he was okay with that. No one was perfect. It was a fact of life.
But, much to his detriment, that didn't stop others from believing he was perfect anyway. Or him from trying to be perfect. That innate desire to do his best, be his best, at and in everything he did. Part of that, Dick could admit, had to do with Bruce. And not just because of Robin. Robin was one thing, but Bruce was another.
Bruce wasn't perfect either. And unlike Dick, everyone knew it, even him. Bruce wasn't perfect, didn't even try to be perfect, and in some cases regressed to be even worse than he was before. Jason was proof enough of that, even if they finally managed to patch things up for good in the end.
That's where the problem laid. After Barbara and Jason, Dick tried to be perfect to make up for Bruce's faults. Bruce was never the same after those two tragedies, never really recovered, and while Dick had his own guilts and regrets regarding those two incidents, it was only amplified by that need to compensate for Bruce's increasing number of failings. So he tried. He tried so hard.
Being there for Tim, when Tim was basically forcing himself on Bruce for his own good, enduring their father's emotional constipation and callous manipulation and barely managing to scrape by. Helping Barbara recover from her paralysis. Bringing Jason back into the family (though that one was hardly a one-man effort and wasn't really accomplished until after Bruce was dead). Even being Bruce's rock, Bruce's conscience, when Alfie, for all his solidness, was being too permissive for his charge's own good.
Yet, the one Herculean feat that Dick accomplished and was proud of above all others, was redeeming Damian. Saving him from the toxic upbringing forced upon him by the League of Assassins. Helping him become a hero. Dick didn't really love Damian as a younger brother so much as a son, and everyone knew it and accepted it. Even Bruce, the boy's actual father. Because Bruce had tried, he really did, but in the end he wasn't the kind of father Damian needed.
He was harsh, demanding, cold, and could be cruel at times, even if he had genuinely good intentions. He was, in essence, no different from what the boy had already dealt with growing up, just with diametrically opposite moral compass that caused them to clash time and time again. Damian had needed a lighter touch, and no one in the Family had a lighter touch than Dick. Dick had succeeded where Bruce failed, as he always had.
He was so proud of this feat, in fact, that he studiously ignored what it had cost to achieve it. Or, perhaps, refused to acknowledge it, for fear of diminishing it. Debasing it. Making it less amazing than it was. Because Dick wasn't perfect, and he was okay with that, but that didn't mean he didn't want to be perfect anyway. At least in the eyes of the people he cared for most.
For that alone, Dick could safely say that he was an idiot. Because that's how he landed in this situation in the first place.
"Tim…Tim, please. Stop this," Batman pleaded his future successor. "I know we screwed up in the future, but now that you're here, we can change that. We can make things better — without having to subvert so many lives. Without having to spill the blood of our family."
Where had it all gone wrong? He knew things hadn't been the same since he forced Tim to give up the Robin mantle to Damian, but how had it led to this? The destruction of future Gotham, Tim murdering Damian and the rest of the Family, and then traveling back in time to do it all over again — this couldn't be his little brother. It couldn't.
Tim, the real Tim, still had to be in there. All Dick had to do was reach out to him, appeal to that good heart that Dick knew he still had, and Tim would stop. Tim would stop, and then they'd stop this Blight, whoever he was, and then the timeline would right itself. That's it, that's all he needed to do, Dick was sure of it.
Future Tim stared at him, mouth set but eyes wavering. Batman stepped forward, hands in a pose of supplication, before removing his cowl to reveal Dick Grayson, the man. If anything would convey his sincerity, it was this one gesture, and perhaps…perhaps…
"Please, Tim."
He was begging. The Great Dick Grayson was begging, ready to go on his knees, and that should be enough. Pride meant nothing in the face of redeeming his brother, a version of him at least, and if he showed that, then Tim would have to capitulate, wouldn't he? The reason why Tim was resented him so much was because Dick had been too proud to admit he was wrong with how he treated Tim before, but now… now he was showing that he had learned his lesson, that he cared, and that had to be enough, needed to be enough.
Dick didn't want to fight Tim. Not like this.
There were a million emotions passing through Future Tim's face, and Dick waited desperately, eagerly, for the one emotion he wanted more than anything else. Forgiveness. And when it was there, when Future Tim finally gave him that one, single nod, only then did Dick let his shoulders sag, and he moved forward for another hug.
Only to get a punch to the face for his troubles.
He stumbled back, shocked and more than a little heartbroken, and was punched again, much harder than before. He fell and was on his back and Future Tim was mounting him and punching him again and again and again and why why why?
"So compassionate, so trusting," Future Tim said with that mocking and bitter smile on his face, "Always trying to see the best in people. It's pathetic, honestly, but it always seemed to work for you with everyone else, so why wouldn't it with me? Everyone is a little bit in love with you, after all, and who wouldn't be?" His voice with scathing, full of hatred, and Dick had never felt such animosity from anyone before, not even from his worst enemies.
The sheer amount of resentment emanating from the man above him was so great it was almost palpable. Not even Jason, back in his early days as the Red Hood, had so much anger and rage inside of him. Where had it all gone wrong? Why had it all gone wrong? Why hadn't any of it been enough?
"You're perfect Dick Grayson," Future Tim said, seething, "who can do no wrong, even when he does."
Dick closed his eyes, and felt the tears begin to well up. "Oh, Tim…"
Tim, this Tim, was gone from him. Had been gone from him for a long, long time, and it was all Dick's fault. All of it. So stupid. So foolish. He had sought to compensate for all of Bruce's faults but in the end he had repeated his father's mistakes and brushed it under the rug and it had led to this. There was no going back.
But…But…
He bucked his body, throwing Future Tim off him, and followed up with a mule kick to put some distance back between them. Dick picked himself up, dusted himself off, and wiped off the blood streaming down from his busted nose. There was no going back, so that meant that there was no point in trying to hold back. Dick was Batman, Gotham needed him, and for the Batman, Gotham always came first.
Was this how you felt, Bruce? Dick thought to himself as he prepared to engage Future Tim in battle once more. When Jason came back like he did, and you couldn't reach him? People accused you of not trying hard enough, and maybe you didn't, but it couldn't have been easy for you regardless.
But it was different with Jason, wasn't it? You loved him, and he loved you, and even when it seemed the pain was too much and you both were too broken, you still tried to reach out to each other in your own ways. Because Jason, for all his crimes, never completely turned against the Family. Never managed to kill a single one of us, even though deep down, we all knew he was capable of it if he tried hard enough. The good kid you loved as your son was still in there somewhere, and it took all of us to finally pull him back out.
That's not the case here with Tim and I, is it? Because Tim, this Tim, killed Damian. Killed Jason. Killed Cass, killed the entire Family because they refused to follow him. Whoever he used to be, the good person he once was, he's gone. He's been gone for a long time, and I have no choice to accept it. Whatever pain that lays between us doesn't matter anymore, because in the end, he isn't willing to cast it aside, and so, neither can I.
"That's it," Future Tim said, infuriated and heedless of his opponent's thoughts. He went to his utility belt and took out something that made Dick's blood run cold: a gun.
The gun.
"You have gotta be kidding me…" Dick muttered, incensed. For once, he was glad Bruce was dead. There's no way their father could handle one of his sons using that for a weapon. Even the gun-toting Jason and the katana-wielding Damian would never draw as much ire as that.
Future Tim shrugged, smirking. "It's fitting, isn't it? Three decades ago, this gun was used to murder Thomas and Martha Wayne. And now, three decades later, I'm going to use it to kill their eldest grandson, and finally save Gotham from the rot that started with their deaths." He leveled the weapon directly at Dick's head. "Goodbye, Dick."
And then, the ground exploded.
Both men were blown back from the force, though being Batmen, easily rolled with it and landed back on their feet. They watched as the dust settled, revealing that a hole had been blown into the floor from the other side. Suddenly, a grappling hook attached itself to the ceiling, and the line zipped up to reveal Jason, with Cass clinging to his side. They landed right outside the hole, in between Dick and Future Tim.
"Jason! Cass!" Dick shouted in relief, briefly dropping his stance slightly.
"Dickie! Are you alright?" Jason asked as Cass removed herself from him and glared at Future Tim. The two saddled up close to their brother, making it clear whose side they were on.
"Fine, I'm fine, what about you two?"
"The robots were a bitch, but Babs managed to teleport Duke and Steph in for help, and they helped us get up here to help you."
Dick laughed. "That's wonderful news! Thank God—wait a minute…" The first Robin narrowed his eyes. "Where's your helmet?"
Jason winced. "Uh…"
"He took it off and used it to blow up a bunch of robots," Cass answered for him, not taking her eyes off Future Tim.
Jason shouted a betrayed "Cass!" while Dick groaned in disbelief. Memories of the Bane incident, where he had first found out about Jason's exploding helmet, flashed through his mind. Why was his brother being so stubborn on this matter?
"Jason Peter Todd-Wayne! Didn't we tell you to stop rigging your helmets as bombs?"
"It helped, didn't it!"
"That's not the point, Jason!"
"Don't get your panties in a tight, Dickie! I'm alive and unharmed!"
"It's the principle of the matter—"
"Oh, will the two of you shut the hell up already!" Future Tim cut the conversation with a fury of his own. "God, I thought when Dick died I wouldn't have to hear you two bitch at each other like a married couple anymore. I'm just gonna have to kill you both again to make sure."
And now everyone was glaring furiously at him. Jason drew his other short sword while Dick took out a batarang. Cass simply held up her fists. "You can't beat all of us, Tim," Dick pointed out, tensing his muscles.
"You wanna bet?" Future Tim grinned nastily. "I've faced worse odds before, both as Robin and as Batman. But you never really seemed to care, did you? Why else would you toss me away for such an inferior successor?"
Dick scowled at the implied insult to Damian, but steeled himself. "I did care Tim. I did, I promise. And I know I did wrong by you, but nothing I ever did could ever justify all of this. Stop this now. This is your last chance."
"Tch." Future Tim scoffed, shaking his head and clicked his gun, readying himself to shoot while everyone else prepared themselves to move.
Only to be interrupted again when a familiar buzzing sound invaded the room, accompanied by a bright sheen that appeared on the other side of Dick, across from Jason and Cass. All the hallmark signs of a teleportation, courtesy of the Justice League Watchtower.
Tim, the current Tim, appeared, followed by Damian, each holding their customary weapons. Future Tim stepped back, completely in shock.
"How!" He screeched in rage, using his free hand to tug and tear at his hair.
Everyone else ignored him in favor of each other. "Damian!" Dick said joyfully, only for the expression to falter when he saw his other brother. Tim gazed back at him, his expression a mixture of guilt and sadness, one that Dick couldn't help but return. The rest of their siblings watched awkwardly, not knowing what to say to break the mounting tension.
Future Tim handled that for them.
Tim spotted the aiming of the gun from the corner of his eye, only allowing a few precious seconds of warning. "Dick!" Dick only managed to catch sight of the gun at the last moment before Tim threw himself at him, out of the way of the bullet, which promptly grazed the younger man's back instead.
"Ugh!"
"Tim!/Drake!" The other three siblings quickly turned their attentions back to Future Tim, aiming their weapons back at him.
"Tim…why?" Dick asked, eyes wide as he quickly grabbed his brother by his midsection, helping him sit up.
"You're my brother, Dick," Tim answered, wincing but smiling shakily. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Oh, Tim…" Dick said again, though this time it was not with despair but with love and fondness. The others couldn't help but look back with smiles on their faces as well.
"Oh, are you fucking serious!" Future Tim, irreverent of all the emotional scenes going on, cut in, once again drawing everyone's attention back to him. Now all the siblings were glaring angrily at him, each and every single one of them ready to jump him at a moment's notice. "Didn't you listen to me, Tim? They're only ever going to break your heart! They're incompetent fools who'd rather rely on faith and hope than data and logic, and you need to get rid of them now before they screw this city over like they did in my timeline! The only person you can rely in this Family, in the world, is yourself!"
Tim struggled up back to his feet, using a willing Dick as a crutch. He gazed at his future self with a look of contempt, before grin slowly crept up onto his face.
"So I was right. It is on the Red-Computer, isn't it?"
Future Tim's eyes widened in horror.
"Now, Damian!" Tim ordered, and Damian whipped out a bomb and threw it at Future Tim. Except it wasn't a bomb, but rather a collapsed net that promptly expanded and bound Future Tim's entire body. The time traveler shrieked in rage, as Tim took out a projector and threw it to the ground. Then he took out a miniature, portable computer and typed something in it.
Whatever he did, it caused the projector to turn on, transmitting a virtual image of a Batman. No, not a Batman, but the Batman — Bruce. "Failsafe has been initiated," it droned, "the authorizations of all living and verified successors are required to proceed."
"NO!" Future Tim screamed. Everyone else ignored him.
Cass was the first to speak. "Authorization: Cassandra Cain-Wayne, Batgirl II, Black Bat, Batman VI."
"Authorization: Damian al Ghul-Wayne, Robin IV, Batman V." Damian smirked, lowering his sword.
"Authorization: Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, Robin III, Red Robin, Batman IV." Despite the pain he was in, Tim spoke clearly, loudly, and with confidence.
"Authorization: Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, Robin II, Red Hood, Batman III." Jason sighed, but there was a soft smile on his face.
"Authorization—"
"No! NO! I WON'T LET YOU DO THIS!"
Dick glanced back at Future Tim, who was raving and screaming as he tried to struggled out of Damian's bonds. With a glare on his face, Dick started again. "Authorization," He said with authority, drowning out Future Tim's words, "Richard John Grayson-Wayne, Robin I, Nightwing I, Batman II!"
"Authorizations accepted. Now commencing wipe."
"NOOOOO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! WHAT! HAVE! YOU! DONE!"
Tim huffed, and shrugged. "What we had to," he said smugly.
"System wipe completed. Now commencing self-destruct."
"Your plan has failed, Tim," Dick growled, as everyone began to encircle Future Tim. "It's over."
Future Tim glared up at all of them, before he began to seize. The glares were exchanged for looks of horror as he began to turn translucent, his form beginning to fade. Being detectives, it wasn't hard to figure out what was happening: Future Tim's timeline was no longer viable. It was being erased. And with it, was Future Tim.
"I hope when all of you die, it's while choking on your own blood," Future Tim cursed them all with his dying breath, before finally blending into non-existence.
Everyone stared at the spot where he once was, the faint wisps of his presence gradually disappearing into nothing. After they were sure he was gone, each and every single one of them collapsed to their knees, exhausted. A silence blanketed the room.
"The robots are gone! Woo!" The faint yell of Stephanie's voice broke through the quiet.
Despite themselves, everyone laughed.
The Red-Computer, Red Robin's personal computer, was based on the Bat-Computer. While still uniquely different, the two systems shared one commonality: a failsafe that would allow the destruction of the entire system and the erasure of all its files. Bruce had updated this failsafe periodically over the years, and Tim hadn't hesitated to do the same, knowing that it might be necessary one day — like today. With the destruction of the Red-Computer, Brother EYE could no longer spread any farther, allowing the anti-virus in the Bat-Computer to hunt it down and summarily eradicate it from the Internet.
Right after Future Tim's disappearance, time began moving forward again. Alas, since Neo-Wayne Tower was still shielded from outside teleportation, everyone had go down through the elevators and sneak into a van that Luke had driven outside the back. Luke had then driven them back to the front of the Manor as fast as he could without calling the attention of the cops. Which, considering this was Gotham, was still a lot more than most cities permitted.
When they arrived back at the Manor, however, the chaos started up again.
"What. The Hell." Dick gaped at the sheer carnage of what was once his home. Alfred, in the midst of clearing things with a broom, was completely unperturbed. The old man had truly seen it all.
Jason wasn't nearly as composed. "MY KITCHEN! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TWO LITTLE BRATS DO TO MY KITCHEN!" He screamed, whirling upon his two youngest siblings with pure rage in his eyes.
"Now Jason, I know you're angry, but it's not my fault, alright?" Tim said nervously, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "I was brainwashed, remember? I had no control over my actions…unlike Damian."
"Drake, you traitor!" Damian screeched at him as he began to run away.
"Every Robin for themselves, Demon Brat!" Tim cackled, only to squeak when he saw Jason reaching for him too.
"FUCK IT! YOU'RE BOTH DEAD!"
"No, Jason!" Cass protested, throwing herself onto Jason's back like a spider monkey. "No killing!"
"Dammit Cass, get off me! I'm gonna kill those little shits!"
"No!"
"I see the recent crisis hasn't diminished any of your liveliness," Alfred commented dryly, holding up the broom as a flailing Jason tried to get his sister off him as he chased after his two bickering younger brothers all around the room.
Dick sighed, and shrugged helplessly as he smiled. "Honestly, Alfie, I wouldn't have it any other way."
Alfred smiled back, glancing back at the chaotic scene. "Neither would I, Master Dick. Neither would I."
Despite the genuine lightheartedness upstairs, however, the mood was quick to turn somber as everyone gathered back into the Bat-Cave, the one place that had remained completely untouched during Damian and Tim's battle. Along with the core family was the extended family, including Barbara, who was present thanks to a transmission from the Maiden Tower to the Bat-Computer.
What followed was a briefing over the events of the entire day. Not a single scrap of information was left out, all of it analyzed along with the potential implications. Immediately, a list of tasks was drawn up to deal with the aftermath, including examining what else Future Tim had messed with during his time there. Neo-Wayne Tower was at the top of the list, and Tim was already considering delaying its intended opening for a few more months just to make sure there were no nasty surprises when Wayne Enterprises moved in.
Eventually, however, the discussion petered out as everyone moved to rest. While Luke was going back to the place Barbara and him shared, everyone else was staying at the Manor, including Stephanie and Duke. Of course, there was the issue of cleaning the place so that way they didn't trip over anything and got hurt, but that was what the rest of the day was for. Wounds were treated, some last parting words were exchanged, and gradually, everyone moved back upstairs for cleanup.
The last to leave were Jason and Damian, the former tugging the latter back with his ear, ignoring his grumbling. Conspicuously, no one commented on how this left Dick and Tim all alone in the Bat-Cave. Bats may be as dysfunctional as hell, but they could also be subtle and tactful when need be.
As the elevator closed, leaving the two brothers alone, silence permeated the air. The two shifted awkwardly as they turned to each other, both knowing this talk was necessary but unknowing in where to begin. There was a lot to say, after all. Perhaps too much to say in one day.
Finally, Dick cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he said.
Tim blinked. "What for?"
"For what happened all those years ago. For taking Robin away from you and giving it to Damian. It was hurtful and cruel, and I never really apologized for it, did I?"
"You didn't," Tim admitted, "But I wouldn't have minded so much if you had just explained things better. I had to parse that out on my own, and even then my own bias twisted it towards my perspective."
Dick smiled bitterly. "Yeah, well, despite what everyone thinks, I'm not perfect. I make mistakes, and sometimes I forget that. And when I do, that's when I make my stupidest mistakes, and those are the ones I refuse to admit to, and the cycle starts all over again," he looked away, shaking his head. "And to think I used to take Bruce to town on that…I really am a hypocrite, aren't I?"
"You aren't a hypocrite, Dick," Tim protested, "Just someone who expects too much of himself."
Dick's lips quirked up at his words. "I was jealous of you, you know," he admitted, voice wistful.
His younger brother widened his eyes. "You were?"
"Of course I was. I was jealous of all you, to be honest. Each of you had something with Bruce that I didn't. Jason was the first one that was really his and his alone. You gained his trust faster than all of us, and he gave you independence that none of us ever had. Damian was his actual son, and even Cass had a bond with him the rest of us didn't have. I always felt like I was in all your shadows. I might've been the first, but I always felt like he loved you all more."
"That's funny, because we were always in your shadow. You were his favorite."
Dick huffed. "Favorite soldier, maybe. But favorite son?" he shrugged.
"Dick…" Tim said, not knowing what else to say.
"He loved me, I know that. He loved all of us, and we loved him back, but we couldn't help but hate him," Dick continued, "That's how he was. An easy man to love, but not an easy man to like. I was the easy one to like, because I had to be, and it backfired on all of us, didn't it?"
Tim took a deep breath. "Dick. You're being too hard on yourself. Did you make mistakes? Yes, of course you did. But you weren't the only one. What happened today was on me too."
"Tim—"
"It was, Dick. You know it was. What my future self became, those thoughts and feelings, they were all rooted in the person I am now. You might have chosen to ignore it, but so did I. I never confronted you about it, I buried it somewhere deep inside my soul and it sprouted into something horrible," Tim shook his head, chuckling mirthlessly, "It's ironic, isn't it? We berated Bruce for being so emotionally constipated but in the end we were no different from him."
"What a thing to inherit from him," Dick mused.
"But not something we have to keep," Tim pointed out.
"No, not in the least." Dick sighed. "What now?"
"Well, first things first, there's something I need to say: I'm sorry too. And as for the second," Tim inhaled deeply, "I need you to take me out of the succession."
Immediately, Dick paled. "What? No!"
"You have to, Dick. I'm too much of a risk."
"Just because your future self went all crazy and stuff and came back in time and tried to murder us all and brainwash the world doesn't mean you'll do the same later on. Especially since you quite obviously rejected that future, since he faded from existence and all that."
"That's the same line of thinking we had with the Titans of Tomorrow," Tim noted wryly, "And then this happened."
Dick frowned. "Tim—"
"You have to, Dick. I can't be Batman. Those two incidents have proven it; I simply don't have the right temperament and character for it."
"Those are only two possible futures out of an infinite number. You can't base that conclusion on such a small sample."
"That's still two futures too many," Tim argued heatedly. "Especially since those futures where I became Batman always see me traveling back in time to fix some mistake. That is not a viable solution to keep falling back on and the fact that I still did that despite knowing the risks — Dick, I can't do this."
"Tim…" Dick sighed again.
"It's not like I'm your chosen successor anyway."
In spite of the situation, Dick couldn't help but roll his eyes. "If you're talking about Damian—"
"I'm not talking about Damian."
Dick froze. Of course he figured that out. He's Tim Drake, for Pete's sake. He thought to himself in exasperation.
"You and I both know that, right now, Damian is far too young and inexperienced to be considered as a potential successor in case of your untimely death," Tim crossed his arms, "He's come far over the years, but he's not ready. Not yet. We both know who your actual successor is right now, even if he doesn't know about it yet."
"You can't say anything," Dick warned his brother harshly, "If he finds out—"
"—he'll kill you, I know," Tim looked away. "He still blames himself for what happened."
"It wasn't his fault."
"And everyone knows that but him. It's what will make him a great Batman, if the need ever arises. As callous as it is to say, nothing drives a Batman better than their guilt." Tim shook his head. "He's like you, in that regard. He expects too much of himself."
"And at the same time, he doesn't expect a lot," Dick concurred, crossing his arms and rubbing his forehead. "You know if, God forbid, it comes to pass, he won't want the job. He'll try to foist it on you."
"And he'll fail, because it'll be you that chose him. He'd do anything for you. We all would." Tim shifted his shoulders. "That's the way things have always been with this family. And it won't change, even if you do die before your time, Dick."
Dick diverted his eyes, trying to squash the guilt he felt at that statement. "Well, God willing, it'll never happen. I'll live long enough to pass this mantle on to Damian instead, like he's always wanted."
Tim snorted. "Damian Wayne — the only man who ever wanted to be Batman."
"He just wants to make us proud. That's all he's ever wanted to do since he first came to live with us."
"Yeah, well," Tim exhaled, "He doesn't need to do that anymore. We already are, aren't we?"
"We are," Dick shook his head, "But I don't think he'll ever believe us. You know how he is."
"Yeah," Tim responded, fingering his arm thoughtfully, "I do."
Dick smiled, then flattened his lips. "I'm not taking you out of the succession."
"Dick—"
"No, Tim. I can't. If something happens to me, and then to Jason, then you will have to be Batman in case Damian isn't ready yet."
Tim looked bullish. "But Cass—"
"Cass would make an amazing Batman, yes, but you would make an even better one. You're the smartest one of us. You always have been. If Damian isn't ready, then it has to be you. And if something happens to you and he still isn't ready, then it will be Cass. Understood?"
Tim grumbled, but nodded.
"Good," Dick grinned, and then pulled his brother into a hug. Tim stiffened but melted into it, returning it with enthusiasm. For the first time in a long time, things felt well and truly okay between them.
After a few more minutes of embracing, the two let go, smiling genuinely at each other. Things weren't all okay between them quite yet, but they were certainly getting there.
"Come on," Dick said, clasping a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, "The Manor isn't going to clean up itself."
Tim winced. "Do we have to? You know Jason is going to dump kitchen duty on Damian and I."
"Which is no less than what you two deserve. You are the reason why the place is such a wreck."
"For the last time, I was under brainwashing! I am not culpable for my actions!"
"Whatever you say, Tim," Dick laughed, "Whatever you say."
Around a thousand words shorter than usual, but that's always the case with the last chapter of these flashback arcs. There's nothing left to say, so I'm ending this arc here. Next chapter we go back to the present, and the chapter after that will be an interlude. So don't be surprised if the next chapter is shorter than usual.
Next chapter: Jason and Tim.