Sorry for the delay on the next arch, but wanted to get this story out. Different people suggested something similar so I did this. In other news, it's my big 25th B-Day! What am I doing? not sure. Oh well.

OH! one last bit. His is pre-dami. Check timeline once in a while

Dick-14 Jason-11

Big Brother's Privilege

Seriously, Jason was just being a loud mouthed brat. He liked to make fun of all the older kids, make comments about their looks or their habits. He was particularly snarky with rich kids who thought they could survive on their own on the streets.

"Seriously? With those manicures of yours?" The former street rat laughed out loud at the grungy looking preps, whose ratty jackets and pants were still designers. If their parents bothered to pay attention, they would be horrified at what their money bought them. "You wouldn't last five minutes in Crime Alley, precious. You ladies are better off at your tea parties."

The troublesome kid tried to walk away, laughing safely away on the other side of the fence dividing the Elementary and Secondary divisions of Gotham Academy. Tried. He was making fun of upper classmen who were not only smoking on the side of school grounds, but knew all the holes between the great divide as well. There was no camera to catch what happened next, or what happened each time Jason mouthed off to those guys or just came nearby after a while.

"Jay, where'd you get that?" Dick asked once while they were going through their tumbling training. Cass and Timmy were off working on upper arm body strength not too far off. But the two of them were working on falls and flips, ways to avoid capture in different situations. Jason was slowly getting better at acrobatics, but since the first time Dick took him flying, he'd been hesitant to try the trapeze again.

Quickly the younger boy looked away, scowling to himself while coming up with a convincing lie. "Got knocked into a doorknob at school on accident."

"Hardly looks like a doorknob." Dick tried to grab Jason's arm so he could get a better look at the bruise on his shoulder, but saw the kid flinch away when his grip slipped. Another bruise was forming right where he touched. "What the…"

"Doesn't matter." Jay turned towards the mat and tried to press on without any more questions. "Now are ya gonna teach me that throw or not?"

The acrobat gave him a questioning glare, also slipping into slang like the two always did when one of them as stressed. "I get the feeling you wanna learn more than just throws or falls."

"Just teach me already before I tell Dad about that date of yours last weekend."

This shut the teen right up. He fell off the grid, breaking rule 4 for a few hours one night, to see a girl in his geometry class. How Jason knew about that date he couldn't tell. Probably saw him sneaking out or popped into his room while he was gone. Either way, if the kid told, Dick would be in major trouble with Bruce. The man always turned to stone when Dick tried to talk to him about going on dates. At the rate the man was going, the teen wouldn't have an official girlfriend until he was in his thirties.

"Fine." Blackmailed into silence, the acrobat went back to work helping his brother learn a more complicated move. Hopefully it'd help him out next time he got into a fight.

"Where'd a punk like that learn that move?" Jimmy Stewart asked his friends.

Dick tried to ignore the morons he was sure smoked at the edge of campus (in what was supposed to be a make-out spot) coming through the bathroom doors. He was trying to finish his biology homework without being disturbed by different clubs begging him to join up so they could win their next competition. And the sports teams kept hounding him after they saw him on the PE fields. And then there were the gold diggers and wannabe best friends. As friendly and social as Dick was, he did not want to overload himself with that much activity. So whenever he had homework due later in the afternoon, he snuck into a bathroom stall at lunch.

Unfortunately idiots tended to gravitate that way too. And he had to hear all the dirty rumors that came with them. And smell them. Oh joy.

"Yeah seriously," Conner Edwards chimed back. "You'd think he was trained by a pro the way he threw you around." The guy's friends laughed loudly, mocking him for all it was worth.

"Shut up…"

"Think he learned that one on the streets?" Hank Timbleton asked back.

Inside Dick groaned at himself for actually paying attention, even remembering names and faces of those who attended his school based off of voice alone. Stupid habit Bruce got him on back when he was small and kept getting kidnapped or threatened. Know your surroundings, know your enemies, and you're less likely to get hurt or taken. If either does happen, then you know exactly who to blame. That helped a lot later.

"That street rat, charity case?" Stewart scoffed. "He probably saw it on TV and got lucky, that's all. Didn't help the brat anyway. We got him good."

He and his friends laughed to themselves. Dick glared through the stall door as the boys congratulated themselves. Gloating over beating up some kid… "Street rat… Charity case?" he mouthed silently. Wheels started turning in his head as he kept listening.

"Yeah, thinks he's so tough? We sure showed him!"

"That'll teach him to mouth off to us."

"How old is that brat anyway? Twelve?"

"Who cares!" Stewart was taking the lead again. "Just because his new 'daddy' is the 'crowned prince of Gotham' doesn't give him any right to make jibes at us. That trash should have stayed in the gutter where he belongs!"

"YEAH!" The rest cheered. They kept congratulating themselves as they finished their macho business then left, with only half the sinks being used by their numbers.

Dick leaned back on his seat, his homework long forgotten as he made sense of what he heard. Those guys were sophomores, older and bigger than him. "Okay Jay," he murmured to himself, worry starting to grow within him. "What did you get yourself into this time?"

"Quit holding back!" Jason demanded the following afternoon. The kid was angrier than usual, and considering this was Jason, that wasn't too surprising. Especially if Dick was right. The previous afternoon the kid had hidden a limp (he was always better at hiding injuries than anyone, even Bruce) when coming to the car. He spent the majority of the afternoon and evening in his room, claiming it was homework. Dick was pretty certain it was a new set of bruises. And judging by the sloppy moves the guy was making, and the bulges under his clothes, he was right.

"Right, I'm just supposed to go all out and make your bruises worse then?" He twisted the younger boy's arm behind him, pinning him to the ground. Most days Jason would be able to use that trick against him, but this time he only hissed in pain, clenching his jaw. This only drove worried needles into the teen's heart. "Jaybird, seriously! You should talk to Bruce about—"

"What's it matter to you!" Jason demanded sharply, twisting into the hold to throw Dick off and earn himself some freedom. It only worked because Dick let it. Neither of them were attacking this time. It was a good thing no one else was in the room and they threw a towel over the security camera. "You've never cared before what's happened to me!"

"That's because you usually can handle it." The acrobat motioned to the hidden bruises under the kid's long sleeve shirt. Considering this guy liked to wear tanks while training, it was pretty clear he was hiding something. "Look, I know you don't want help but you should—"

"Who were you seeing the other day again?" Dick clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. Jason's knowing smirk taunted him. "Was her name Vanessa or Natasha?"

"April."

"I'm quite certain I saw lips touching."

"Okay, I got it!" Dick leapt to his feet, glaring at the kid blackmailing him to silence. "Don't tell Bruce. Don't tell Alfred! Don't bother asking for help! Do what you want!" He glared at him, trying to convince himself he didn't care anymore. But that was a lie, and his eyes couldn't hide it. "Just don't get beaten up anymore. They're not blind you know."

The teen jerked himself away, marching out of the room and taking his towel off the camera so Alfred wouldn't tell him off later. If Jason wanted to be a punching bag the rest of his life, let him. He'd just wait to see how that went next time. Because of his agitated state, he didn't see the slightly hurt and bitter glare Jason threw at the floor, clenching his fists tightly. Seeing it probably would have started another argument anyway.

"Hey street rat!"

Jason froze for a moment when he heard that voice saying that name. He wasn't anywhere near the great divide that day and here the jerk faces were, calling him out. He was just taking a nap in an isolated part of his playground that afternoon, a blind spot in security bullies used to take little kids to for hazing. Used to. After Jason beat most of them up and claimed the spot for his napping grounds, they stopped. Course Dick had a hand in that event back when they went to the same school.

And now here came a new batch of bullies, seven of them, and all much older and bigger than him. "Ah crap." He turned his head slightly towards them, still lying on the ground and pretending not to care. "Can't you pricks just leave me alone? I haven't come by your place in days! Almost two weeks!"

"We missed you Jonny Boy!" The leader of the group grabbed his forehead and started to grind the kid's head into the ground, grinning. The punk's friends started to laugh, surrounding him. "Wanted to come by and play some more."

"Not interested." Jason grabbed the guy's hand and drove his nails into it before kicking his feet up and over the slime ball. Using one of Dick's acrobatic tricks, he managed to land his backflip on the jerk's back, thrusting him headlong into the ground, before making a second backflip onto the ground outside their circle. He gave them a challenging grin. "Next time I wanna play with you, I'll ask."

"Get him!"

Thus started Jason's chase around campus, evading cameras and all of that guy's friends for as long as he could. Unfortunately one of them had set the high school's track record. He was caught after ten minutes. Their leader grinned, flexing his wounded hand before punching his open palm. "Now, how about a game, shall we?"

"Is something the matter with Master Jason?" Alfred asked Dick that evening. The kid was silent when he entered the car after school, not looking at anyone, particularly Dick and Alfred. Jason claimed homework and wanting to go to bed early for a test the next day, so he hadn't left his room since they came home. Had Bruce been home and not on a business trip in Brazil, he would have investigated what was going on, asked questions. Jason usually talked to him more than Alfred when he holed himself away.

"I think he's got a stomachache," Dick offered, keeping his eyes on his homework. He thought the real problem had passed when Jason stopped sporting new bruises and was wearing short sleeved shirts again. Apparently not, just avoided it for a while. He looked up and smiled at the old man reassuringly. "I'll get him dinner later, okay?"

The wise old butler eyed him for a moment, doubting. But Dick was getting much better at lying, especially when he made them half-truths. So he relented, preparing the younger lad's tray for delivery, complete with cookies to cheer him up and an herb tea to settle stomachs. Dick took it and a med kit when the man was very busy helping Timmy and Cassandra get cleaned up after making a spaghetti mess from dinner.

"Candy gram for Mr. Filch!"

"Is it real candy?" he heard through the door.

"No, but there's real cookies, spaghetti, tea, broccoli, cottage cheese, and breadsticks, just the way you like them. Extra breadsticks too." Dick kicked the lower part of the door. "Open up, my hands are full."

After a few minutes, and a lot of thumping and grumbling (good thing Alfred was far down stairs), he heard the door unlock and creek open. That was all the invitation Dick needed. Quickly he forced his way in and closed the door with his foot so Jason couldn't argue. "Took you long enough. Did you sprain your ankle this time or something?"

"Shut up Dick." The kid glared daggers at him, hobbling over to his desk where the tray was set. "Unless you want Dad to hear about April."

"Andrea this time," the teen corrected, twisting the chair around so Jason could sit in it easier.

The kid gave him a bewildered glare. "You sure get around."

"They ask me out." He shook his head in frustration. "I can't just say no. I've tried and then they get all whiney and clingy and cry all over me. So I promised them all one date." Dick took the first aid kit and knelt at Jason's feet to see that the damage was. "Let me take a look."

"No way," Jay stubbornly refused, receiving a glare in return.

"Either I look and try to take care of it, or I go to Alfred, regardless of what you have on me." This shut the kid up at last, giving the older brother some relief. He immediately started looking over the several bruises (thankfully just bruises) on his legs and feet. He'd been kicked around on the ground by several people. Dick glared at them as he started applying what balms he could and wrapping them up for the boy's comfort.

"Anyway, as I was saying, they ask me out. I give them one date, tell them I had fun, but then I tell them Bruce melted a chastity belt around my waist so they should probably move on."

Jason actually started laughing at the story. "Seriously? You say that?"

"More or less." He moved upwards, checking the kid's ribs. The way he hissed when he prodded one side he knew a few of them were cracked. They really should be checked by a professional like Alfred or Leslie. But he hid cracked ribs before after taking a fall. He knew how to tape them up, and did so quickly. "They're all cute, but they're either after my good looks or Bruce's money."

"Quit braggin' Goldie." He shook his head, still smirking a bit. "I only get asked to play with a bunch of uglies."

"You really should avoid those uglies," Dick insisted. He moved on to other bruises. This kid had taken quite a beating.

"I tried!" His eyes desperately searched for understanding this time, no longer caring if Dick knew. At least someone was on his side, and it was nice to talk to someone. "Really! I was minding my own business, not even going near them, and they snuck up on campus to take me down. Said it was fun."

"Get any good hits in?" the acrobat asked curiously. He was nearly done, and it bothered him how much ointment and wraps he had to use on his brother. Anyone with that many bruises and was still able to think straight had to be made of stern stuff. The streets of Gotham really made a tough kid out of him, and he was only there for a year.

"A few," Jason smirked in pride. "Got their leader's hand pretty good, then flipped off his back. Just like you did to Barry a few months back."

"Oh yeah!" Dick grinned to himself, remembering that move. "That was fun. Learned it while practicing my tumbling at the circus with the other kids. We kept coming up with new routines for when we took over. Boy that brings back memories."

"I bet. What is this stuff?" The two boys looked into the tea cup Alfred had put on the tray, still steaming hot.

"Some herbal remedy for stomachaches." He waved it off as he packed up what was left of the kit he was using. "Best I could come up with to explain your behavior. We can dump it down the drain. Now those cookies…"

Jimmy Stewart took a long drag from his cigarette before flexing his hand again. It was well taken care of but it itched like crazy since the street rat, charity case scarred him. The little punk was going to pay dearly. Oh wait, he already did. For a while.

"You know," his friend Mark Conroy started, "if that brat starts talking, we'll be in big time trouble with his old man."

"Oh please!" John Evans started, leaning back against the red rock building behind him. "One thing that brat isn't, is a squealer. He'll wanna take care of us himself. Stupid kid can't win."

"Only thing he can do is hide," Conner Edwards laughed, and the others joined in. After a minute, he made a sneering offer. "Hey, anyone wanna play another round with him?"

"Sounds good to me." Stewart flicked his butt away then stood up, stretching his back a bit. He gave a toothy grin to his friends. "Maybe this time we should throw him under a bus."

"Ooo…. Doesn't that count as attemptive first degree murder?"

They all jerked their heads around when the child protégée nearly everyone wanted in their circle of friends spoke nearby. He was leaning against a tree, smiling a little at them as if they were having tea. "I believe that's a felony even minors can't get away with. Never wash that slate clean."

"What are you doing here?" Evans demanded, his muscles bulging under his tight shirt.

"Looking for places to take girls," he answered coyly. "But I wasn't expecting finding a place to pick them up instead. Ugly smelly ones, but still…"

"Oh…" Stewart gave the guy a dark grin. "You just made a big mistake."

"No I didn't. You did." The famed golden boy pushed himself off the tree a bit, falling into a firm stance with two sticks in his hands, glaring death upon them. "The day you took a snarky eleven year old's words to heart and decided to 'teach him a lesson' and thought it was fun."

"It was fun," he started, still grinning, "but I think we just found a new toy. Get 'em."

All at once ten sophomores, all well-built and practiced in 'street brawls', charged at the lone acrobat, flailing their arms around wildly to take him down. None of them noticed the Cheshire smile that grew on his face.

"Bring it."

The fight was remarkably short. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes at most. Lunch didn't last forever after all and Dick still wanted to get his homework done, plus eat. It was for this reason he picked up some dowels and brought them to the fight. Made it faster. Plus all seven charged at the same time. Clumsy fools never fought someone who took on groups before. Sure Jason had taken on five at one time, but they were all his age and size then, and attacked separately. Big difference from when Dick used to take out those who called him a circus freak, charity case, and even booty-boy. He took out three or four daily for a while.

And he learned the bigger and dumber the group, the less you actually had to fight. Majority of the losers knocked each other out. Another portion he had to be hit in painful locations with Dick's sticks before they keeled over. Most of the time, the acrobat just dodged them and let them hurt themselves. The guys were idiots. No wonder they dressed like Hollywood hobos.

Knocking out both of Jimmy Stewart's knees and kneeling on top of his arms was pretty gratifying for Dick by the end of it, especially with those dowels crossing over the moron's neck. The acrobat's glare could compete with Batman's at that point. "Let's make this clear. Don't go after Jason Todd again, or I'll come back and break limbs. May even bring in a few others who do it better. You say a word about this and I'll deny it. My record's much better than yours, and who would believe I took down all of you alone? Got it?"

Trembling and winded, Jimmy nodded. Dick smirked darkly, creeping him out even more. "Oh, and one more thing." He leaned next to the guy's ear, putting more pressure on his arms than before. "You come after me, Jason, or anyone else in my family, and the next time I come around, I'll use blades."

This sent shivers down the guy's spine faster than seeing the guy fight. Satisfied that this would not be happening again, the acrobat nodded, smiling cheerily as he pushed himself up. He was about to walk away when he added, "Oh, to answer your questions from earlier, I taught Jay a good portion of those moves. The rest he learned from Bruce or the streets. You guys really are pansies if you can't make it to class or school after this. He did."

And he left the garbage to rot with those cheery thoughts, ignoring the throbbing starting in the locations the punks actually had managed to hit.

Dick was listening to his iPod on their way home that afternoon, dozing a bit when Jason saw a bruise forming and poking out of the teen's sleeve. He looked over the guy for a bit before taking out his cell and texting him. They had promised not to 'talk' about what fights they got away with after all.

J: where'd U get those bruises?

The teen jerked alert when his phone buzzed. Confused at first, he took it out and read the text. He raised an eyebrow to the kid before answering.

D: Seriously? You're texting me? Here?

Jason glared back.

J: answer the damn question.

Dick smirked before answering again.

D: Rule 6 Jaybird. Temper temper temper!

The other boy glared over to the elder, silently urging him to answer for real. Finally Dick did.

D: Got it while fulfilling my big brother duties.

J: huh?

The younger one gave him a confused look, nearly making the older laugh. So he explained.

D: no one can beat you up except me.

Jason jerked his head around to see if the guy was serious. Judging by the slight smirk on the guy's face, it may have been. It made him roll his eyes.

J: That's supposed 2 help?

"Dick," Timmy started, spotting the bruise Jason noted earlier, "where'd you get that?"

"This?" The teenager lifted his wrist and took a look at it curiously. "Huh. Dunno. Must have gotten it when I was climbing trees at lunch."

The little genius gave him a slight glare. "You need to stop climbing trees."

A smirk crossed both his older brothers' lips. 'Tree' was their code word for fight back when they got into them daily but weren't caught. "I'll try to remember that," the guy joked as he pressed send for the last time.

D: yep =P

A/N: XD yeah, one thing about being the younger sibling that rocks is that you've got a lot of people who'll watch your back, even if they'll torture you at home. It's the whole "this is my toy! you aren't allowed to play with it! so there! NEH!" So here we get to see a bit of Dick's darker side, the side that pops out whenever his family is being threatened. Boys being boys, they aren't going to talk about this.

If anyone gets my tree reference, I'm enjoying your squeals of laughter right now. X3

So yeah, someone mentioned that there should be a story on how Dick only takes care of Timmy and Jason's jealous or something, but this really is what goes behind the scenes. Since Jason for the most part probably wouldn't like being saved directly by his brother, Dick doesn't go out of his way to watch over him. But if he learns of a problem, he's likely to take care of it. Most of the time Jason can handle himself, at least I think so. Will they bring anyone else in on it? Probably not.

On an unrelated note, I do have a poll on my profile. it's not that important, but it is fun. the next arch will be appearing tomorrow.