A/N: A short but important chapter for you all. I was going to wait until the beginning of next week to post this, but I figured I have made you all wait long enough for updates. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts!
Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.
"Any particular reason you have a hideout underneath a police station? Instead of, I don't know, a normal apartment?"
Jason spun his chair around so that he was facing Tim, who sat across the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Ever since he'd brought the teen to the base Tim had sunken into one of his quiet moods, the kind that Jason was quickly catching onto their purpose. It wasn't that the boy felt threatened or angry or even scared out of his wits. Most people would have jumped straight to shouting accusations the moment they found Jason's hideaway. That's what he had prepared himself for; some sort of outcry, a demand for answers, a challenge to a fight. But Tim Drake did not appear to be anything more than suspiciously curious.
Once he realized that Tim wasn't about to do anything more than go mute, Jason figured out that was simply his default mode when he started thinking, and trying to decode everything in front of him. Even for someone who faced the unusual every day, it was still a decent amount to process. Jason hadn't bothered to interrupt that, just shown Tim to his room and gave him free reign of the place. Like he had expected, there had been no problems otherwise.
It appeared that after nearly twelve hours of silence Tim was ready to talk. Not necessarily talk, Jason thought, but to play another round of twenty questions. As much as it probably drove Tim crazy, Jason got a bit of a thrill from it. He didn't mean to, really, but it amused him to watch the teenager wrack his mind for answers. If this was the kid who had managed to figure out who Batman was, he had to wrap his mind around the identity of the stranger who took him in sooner or later. Then again, he doubted Tim expected it to be someone who, as far as he probably knew, was still six feet under and very, very dead.
But he would definitely entertain the teen's questions without complaint. "Is Batman the only one allowed to have a base of operations? I think you're forgetting I have an alter ego too."
"Which you haven't even told me about," Tim answered, half glowering at him. Since he'd arrived he'd purposely put distance between the two of them, sitting where he could see Jason at all times. Even his posture had tensed, and while he made no effort to spring into action, his body language indicated he was ready to pounce if the need arose. "Why were you even after the Joker, anyway?"
"We have unfinished business," Jason replied, leaning back in his chair. Oddly enough, this type of interaction relaxed him more than anything. Maybe it was because for once in his life Jason didn't have to be the one guessing. This time, he had all the answers. "He kind of ruined my life."
"He does that to a lot of people."
"Exactly." Jason didn't miss a beat, and crossed his arms leisurely over his chest. He knew he was being vague, but he couldn't just give all his cards away. He wanted Tim to make an assumption about who he was before he handed out his identity. Either it would drive the teen closer to him or farther away, and Jason was hoping it would result in the former. It was a dangerous game to be playing with a boy who was clearly on the path to becoming another Bruce. Danger, however, was something Jason knew how to handle.
The answer didn't give any ease to the teen's mind. Tim just narrowed his gaze, "So you tracked him down to what, kill him?"
"He deserves it, doesn't he?" Jason threw the question out there, unable to avoid doing so. "After all the lives he's taken, the innocent people that he's hurt and murdered, I'd say he deserves a fate even worse than death."
What Jason expected was to start hearing a lecture. What he thought Tim would do was try to imitate Batman's infamous glare and echo the man's speech on why killing was wrong, and how it made you just like the enemy, and all the other parts that Jason chose to ignore. Instead, Tim tipped his head up slightly, "You're right. So then why didn't you kill him and deal with me after?"
"I decided it wasn't the right time," Jason answered through his surprise, trying to keep the upper hand. He was certain that his slight hesitation told the teen enough. "And it's not exactly a burden on me, is it? He's Batman's job to take care of, if he can't bother to keep track of his partners."
"But Batman will never do it," Tim said with such assurance even someone who didn't have a clue who Batman was would believe his statement.
Jason had to bite back the bitterness in his tone. "Believe me, I know."
Tension sparked in the air, and Jason wanted nothing to do with it. He stood up, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it over the back of his chair. Then he walked over to his wall of weapons, grabbing two collapsible staffs off a rack. Just because he didn't use them in battle didn't mean he couldn't collect them. Besides, they were a staple of his old Robin career, and they made good training weapons anyways. He walked forwards a bit and then tossed one to Tim, who caught it with one hand. Instantly he brought it to its full length, and Jason held his out to the side and did the same. "On your feet, Tim."
The teen didn't protest against the order. Intrigue passed over his features and he pushed the chair back against the wall as he stood, shrugged off his own jacket and then positioned himself in front of Jason with only a few feet of distance between them. Jason adjusted his stance, the weight of the staff in his hands familiar yet foreign. It had been a long while since he'd fought like this, but his confidence didn't wane at the thought. Out of practice or not, he still knew what he was doing.
To his benefit, he had much more fighting experience than Tim.
They both waited to make the first move, and when the teen realized Jason wouldn't he sprung forwards, swinging low. Jason parried the hit and retaliated with quick movements, forcing Tim to go on the defensive. Their staffs clashed hard together and Tim ducked underneath Jason's next swipe, then thrust the staff upwards. Jason sidestepped it and brought the end of his staff upwards in a swift action, nailing Tim hard in the chest.
Tim grunted in pain and stumbled back, his gaze alert but still thoughtful. "Killing is in your job description, then? I could see why you and Bruce don't get along."
"I never killed anyone when I knew him," Jason explained, adjusting his grip on the staff. "Well, to him that's up for debate. He didn't like to believe me towards the end."
They circled each other, Tim's fast racing thoughts nearly flickering across his face. "You use guns. Batman doesn't allow those in the field. Is that what he had a problem with?"
"Not back then, but I'm sure he won't like it now." Jason swung high this time, Tim catching the blow and throwing him back, ending up getting a decent hit to his shoulder. Jason clenched his jaw at the pain and brought his staff up as Tim brought his down, locking them in a brief stalemate as they pushed their weight against each other.
For the first time since they'd met, Jason saw real anger in Tim's eyes, his inner frustration boiling over. Jason could see it all so clearly with their faces only separated by their interlocked staffs. The boy's blue gaze intensely searched his own, trying to figure out the missing pieces that he just couldn't grasp. "Who are you?"
"Oh c'mon, Tim. Where's that detective genius that I've heard so much about?" Jason shoved the boy off, allowing Tim to stumble backwards. He spun the staff in his hand before brandishing it with two hands again, smirking the teen's way. "How can you figure out Batman's identity, but mine is driving you damn near insane?"
"Maybe if you didn't talk in circles I'd actually get somewhere," Tim seethed, launching himself at Jason once more.
"I shouldn't have to give you many hints," Jason argued, tripping the boy with his staff and jumping behind him. As Tim stumbled forwards Jason brought the staff around and pulled Tim back against him, the staff digging into the boy's ribs as he stood pinned. An aggravated sound left Tim's throat as he realized he'd been trapped. Jason spoke to him from behind, "Bruce is turning you into a younger version of himself. You have a brain. Use it."
He released the teen, kicking him in the back, but Tim turned swiftly and launched right back at him. They traded blow after blow, neither relenting. The teen was small, short for a boy and without much bulk. He made up for it with his speed, and the longer they fought the more Jason had to admire him. The kid may not have had an upbringing that gave him an advantage, but he had made up for it with his determination. Tim Drake didn't need talent, not when he had skill.
As far as skill went, Jason was levels ahead of him. Still, the teen put up quite the fight, and Jason was glad that he actually had to give the fight back instead of easily tossing the boy aside. He swung out and nearly struck Tim straight in the face, but the teen dodged and spun past the attack, using the same momentum to strike Jason and send him staggering backwards.
"Turning the attack back on your enemy. Good," Jason said. He then swooped down at Tim during their pause, using the staff to knock Tim's feet out from under him. The teen fell flat on his back, and Jason positioned the end of his weapon at the boy's neck. "But not good enough."
Tim glared up at him, staying on the ground as Jason moved the staff away from his neck, spinning it in his hands once more. "Everything in your head is admirable, Tim. But when you're up against enemies like the League of Assassins, your fighting skills won't save you. Not as they are now."
"Batman taught me-"
"I can tell," Jason replied, not needing to hear whatever else Tim had to say in regards to that. It was ingrained in his style; the same concepts that Jason had learned, the little tricks that Tim used were all courtesy of the Bat's training regime. "But he trained me too. And how many times have I kicked your ass today?"
It didn't seem like Tim wanted to admit to that, and just continued to stare up at him with a hard expression. Jason, however, was aware of just how right he was. "Bruce has given you a set of skills and exercises, but gives you more kevlar instead of advice. You could stand to learn more, if you want to survive."
"So what are you suggesting?" Tim sat up, his hands gripping his staff tightly like it was his lifeline to the world.
"I'll train you in ways that Bruce refuses to," Jason explained. "I've been around the world gaining skills, and I'll pass them onto you, that way you actually know how to defend yourself."
"I do know how to defend myself," Tim protested, sending half a glare to him. "Just because the Joker got a hold of me doesn't mean I'm helpless."
"I didn't say you were," Jason responded, the words taking him back to the day that spawned every action he'd taken thus far. He knew that he had been helpless against the Joker, no matter how many different ways he imagined the scenario playing out. After he had risen, he became determined to prove just what Tim was saying now: just because he had been beaten once didn't make him useless or defenseless. "You're not weak. You put up a decent fight. But you could be better, with more skills than just enough to survive. Bruce taught you how to hide. I'll teach you how to fight back."
Tim had the grace to look somewhat impressed, and then gave a slow nod of his head. "Okay, fine. I'll...let you mentor me."
Everything was falling into place nicely. He'd gotten Tim to come with him, they'd escaped to Bludhaven without a hitch, and now the teen had agreed to be trained under his guidance. Every phase of his plan was coming together, and while he wasn't certain how long the next would take, he was on the fast track to getting his vengeance. After all, once he brought Tim fully to his side there would be no stopping him. Batman would suffer without his Robin, and see him partnered with a villain no less.
Jason held back a grin at the teen's agreement, and settled with saying, "Good to hear it."
But Tim just continued to give him an inquisitive stare, as if he had finally started to catch onto something important. "You said you trained under Batman. That he probably wouldn't expect to see you back."
"That's what I said," Jason confirmed without much enthusiasm.
But the pieces were clicking together in Tim's brain; Jason could tell by the way his blue eyes sparked, the way he searched Jason like the words were written all over his face. He was reading him like a book, pulling out the details and finally making sense of them. "You have a grudge against the Joker. And you know all about the Robin line because…"
Jason waited patiently, meeting Tim's thoughtful gaze as the facts all connected in his head. Once they did, the realization hit at once. All of Tim's energy seemed to drain out of him as the brightness melted off his face, the grip he had on his staff slackening. In its place remained nothing but a wide eyed stare, his mouth opened as if he wanted to speak but couldn't believe the words that were balancing on his tongue. "You're…"
"Too good to be true, right?" Jason said with a wicked smile. "Congrats, Tim, you're just as smart as they say. You can call me Jason. Jason Todd."