Terry left Jason alone with the earpiece and he stared at it in his hands silently.

He wanted to tell Dick that he was okay, he really did, but he also knew Dick would be upset with him.

Jason sighed and brought the earpiece to his ear. "Dick?"

"I'm heading over there now, Jason. Give me ten minutes."

There was a tightening in his stomach as he listened to the words and then nothing. He sighed, closing his eyes. Dick was angry, he could tell that just by the roughness in his tone even though he'd only known him less than a year.

They had met on a cold afternoon in November, the day after Thanksgiving. Shoppers galore all over the Shopping District were easy targets for pickpockets, of which he was a master.

He'd spotted Dick right off: rich, nicely dressed, good looking, old, and alone. Easy.

How wrong he'd been.

Dick had felt his hand and grabbed his wrist, throwing him into the alley and against the brick wall of a jewelry store. Jason had almost started to cry at the fury in the old man's eyes, but then Dick had smiled.

Jason knew then that he'd just met someone much more important then he'd assumed.

"Your name?"

"Fuck you."

Dick had tightened his grip and asked again, "Name?"

Jason tried to get away from his grip and failed, growling. "Jason."

Something flashed in Dick's eyes for a moment but a second later it was gone.

"Nice to meet you, Jason. I'm Dick Grayson."

Famous last words, as it were.

Now here he was in someone else's bed, hurt, and Dick was mad at him for it. He just knew it.

Jason sighed.

He had nothing left: no home, no family, and no friends.

He couldn't lose this too.

Trying not to move too much he turned onto his side, closing his eyes. It seemed a better idea to sleep and let the time roll by. Dick might be less angry if he found Jason asleep and injured when he came.

A gruff voice spoke at his back, "He's angry at himself."

Jason didn't move, trying to block out the voice of the man Dick spoke of with equal worship and resentment, Bruce Wayne.

"When you send someone you care about out by themselves to do something reckless and they get injured, even killed it…"

"I'm not dead," Jason whispered.

"I know," Jason could hear the tip tap of a cane across the floor, "Which I think is reason enough for you to realize that this may be your only chance of giving this up and going home."

Jason laughed, and then winced. "I have no home, Mister Wayne. My mother died when I was ten and I don't even know who my Dad is," Jason turned and slowly lay onto his back.

"Dick is very selfish. He can…"

Jason glared at him and angrily yelled, "Dick SAVED ME! The year I've lived with him is the best I've ever had in my life and you're telling me he's trying to use me? I KNOW! Why else would some old guy with lots of money even keep a kid around? You're doing the same with Terry and you…"

"That's enough, Jason." Came a very calm voice from the doorway.

Dick Grayson stood, his eyes ablaze as he leveled his gaze onto Bruce.

"We need to talk."

Bruce nodded. "Yes."

Jason watched as Dick turned without even entering the room, never once looking his way.

"So this is how it ends," he whispered, closing his eyes.