Chapter 28


Mount Justice

May 6th 2013, 15:30 EDT

No one mentioned when things were "quiet" on Mount Justice. It was an unspoken understanding—even a taboo—to say the forbidden word when breaks between missions stretched out over days.

They contorted themselves around the subject, with civilian activities suddenly becoming their priorities. Those who lived outside of Mount Justice had it easier. They could throw themselves into their extracurriculars enough to occupy themselves despite the lack of action.

Finding a good enough distraction for the boarders was a little bit more challenging.

Inevitably, Wally always broke first. Be it by some thoughtless observation or a spew of nervous comments, his mention of "the word" always initiated a sequence of events that passed with almost comical consistency. He'd get his ass handed to him, quick and corrective and usually dished out by Artemis. To which he'd usually respond with earnest, albeit worthless, promises that he'd keep his mouth shut in the future.

But at that point, it was too little too late. Because the superstition usually held true, and some big bad predictably started making trouble again. And sure, everyone bitched about it for a while, but secretly they were all happy to gear back up for work. Their job was their constant, and none of them liked to admit how lost they were without it.

But ten days had passed this time. And Wally, either driven by his own exhaustion by the slew of activity lately or the collective watchfulness of his friends, had held out. And while Jason wasn't stupid enough to commit the error himself, he was starting to think he'd have to figure out a way to nudge Wally into slipping. Because ten days was ten days too many, and he was damn near jumping out of his skin for action.

Jason hated the dry spells.

He was a boarder and homeschooled at that. So his days usually passed in an endless slog of online modules and virtual tutors, playing catch-up for all the times that he canceled lessons for missions. And it wasn't that Jason hated school. In fact, he felt quite the opposite.

But the public programs couldn't cater to his accelerated learning, they'd tried that already. And as for the private programs? Well, they weren't exactly thrilled to offer one of their precious spots to a prior street kid with dubious-at-best school records. The scores on his IQ tests didn't even matter; far better for the position go to some politician or businessman's kid. They were more predictable with the alumni contributions.

Bruce had initially been indignant about the whole thing, offering to pay triple the tuition fees to a host of programs. He'd even threatened to sue a couple when that didn't work, but Jason had called him off, claiming he never wanted to attend one of those fancy schools anyway.

He wished he'd known then that their rejection was only a herald of many more to come.

So, it wasn't an ideal situation, sure. But Jason had long learned how to be content with being tucked away in Mount Justice during breaks, studying or training to pass the time during breaks. At least there, he had some peace and could throw himself into his studies.

Because even despite the boredom, even that was preferable to how Jason spent his nights; that's when Batman usually Zeta'd him back to Gotham for patrols. The man never let him neglect his duties to the city for long, much as Jason would have preferred him to, and breaks were the perfect time for a homecoming apparently.

Already, he'd been dragged back to the city eight times this go around and Jason would've given anything just to have one day to get lost in his own routine. Even he enjoyed a bit of monotony sometimes.

But the universe was never kind to Jason, and just to add a cherry on top of his increasingly shitty week, that morning, Dinah Lance had called for an official "retreat day." Which meant both studying and training were officially off the table. Instead, the whole day was dedicated to some good old-fashioned rest and team bonding.

The intent was nice and all, but pack together a bunch of type-A teenagers with varying degrees of hero complexes, and it was hard to say how much "rest" actually happened on retreats. More often, The Team came up with creative ways to compete with each other, tiptoeing the line between training and good-spirited competition. It was just "fun" enough to avoid raising the alarms and igniting Dinah's fury but ruthless enough that they all left bruised and exhausted by the end of the day.

Boiled down, it was all just training under a guise. So, Jason didn't really see the point of the rules anyway.

And god, he wished Dinah could have called for a retreat any other day. Because engaging in "team activity" was the last thing he wanted to do on that particularly sunny afternoon.

Apparently, the activity du jour was a variation of Capture the Flag.

The rules were simple enough. The game was pitted between the "heroes" and the "villains". However, only the heroes had a flag that they planted on one of their teammates. The "civ," as they termed them, had to be protected as the clock counted down from ten minutes. If the villains captured the civ's flag in that time, it was game over. But if the heroes could protect the civ for the full time, they would be the victors.

Supes were obviously banned from using their powers, but The Team was otherwise played by an "anything goes" sort of ruleset. Non-lethal weapons were par for the course and anyone was lucky to leave the activity unscathed.

But Jason would be one of the lucky ones that day… if only because he wasn't participating.

He'd already excused himself earlier in the morning with Dinah's albeit reluctant permission. It was for the best. They both knew that he was in a foul mood and would be a killjoy for the others. And as much as the people accused otherwise, Jason did have some self-awareness and didn't particularly enjoy being an ass to his teammates.

He didn't get enough credit for that.

Honest to god, Jason had intended to stay away from the festivities altogether. Mount Justice was private property, and The Team kept their activities limited to the backside just for an added layer of security. So Jason had figured he'd find a quiet spot to lie down outside far away and sleep off his shit storm of a night.

But instead, he found himself leaning against a fence overlooking the rocky private beach. So absorbed in the scene below, he hardly even noticed that his fingers had long grown tingly from the chain link biting into his armpits.

The starting whistle was what had caught his attention. Jason could've sworn that he'd paused for only a moment as his peripheral vision latched onto a whisp of a kid taking off, the boy's oversized bright yellow shirt whipping in the spring wind as he scrambled away from the chaos. But seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds had passed since then, and Jason frowned slightly. This round had already gone on far longer than he expected.

Jason could admit that he hadn't taken the news particularly well a month back when Bruce dropped the bombshell that he was bringing on another protégé. And a Drake, no less. But what did Bruce expect? The man had been Dick's exclusive mentor for five whole years, and Jason couldn't even get a measly couple of them before Bruce dragged another lost boy into the fold.

And to hell with the bullshit sob story Bruce had tried to sell him, going on and on about how Tim needed The Team just as badly as he did. Jason scoffed as he spied the kid's designer t-shirt. As far as he could tell, the kid wanted for nothing. Tim Drake had grown up with a silver spoon up his ass and certainly acted the part.

Tim was always looking at him, his eyes shrewd and calculated. He was no doubt silently passing judgment whenever Jason so much as sneezed wrong. And wherever he went, Jason could always feel the kid's presence following close behind.

His attempts at deterring the little creep only seemed to double his efforts, which worked out for neither of them. They could hardly function in the same room together. Snide comments were always thrown here and there; the kid was surprisingly good at throwing back just as much as Jason dished out. And everyone on The Team seemed collectively exhausted by their constant bickering.

Point blank, Timothy Drake was an annoying little shit. So, excuse him for not exactly rolling out the welcome mat.

Thankfully, no one had called Jason out for hanging around by the fence. And if someone had, he would've come up with some sort of believable excuse, because not even the Infernal Judges on judgement day could've pried his reason for lingering from his teeth.

Jason wasn't interested in the little pretender, but… it also wasn't often that he had a chance to observe the newest addition without being watched in return. So that's what he chalked up his sudden curiosity to.

He just wanted to see.

Jason was so focused that he didn't notice someone joining him until an elbow brushed up against his. He quickly glanced upwards, a little dismayed but not all that surprised to see Dick at his side. He knew it was only a matter of time before his predecessor sought him out to check on him after his night.

Part of him coiled in anticipation. He didn't want to talk about that. Not yet.

But thankfully, Dick didn't say anything. Didn't greet him, even. He, too, seemed just as content with watching the game's final minutes unfold.

Tim had gotten himself cornered. Troia had somehow snuck past the heroes' defenses and backed him onto one of the coastal cliffs. All she had to do was reach for the flag at his waist, and the game would end.

One minute left.

Dick hummed, clearly enjoying the show. "What'll he do now?"

Troia seemed frustrated as she continued to back Tim towards the edge. She was clearly being careful, her movements cautious to prevent Tim from tumbling down the nine-meter cliff into the water below. Jason couldn't hear what she said but imagined she was asking for his surrender.

But Tim kept shuffling his steps backward, keeping a healthy distance between them. His feet moved slowly until they suddenly hesitated right against the edge.

Ten seconds.

A quick glance down at the plunging cliff, then a playful smile—

Even Jason flinched as Tim threw himself backward, the flag just out of reach as Troia swung her arms desperately forward in an obvious attempt to stop him. Her fingers barely missed his waist, and Tim's time in midair passed in slow motion before he splashed into the water below.

Jason didn't realize he was holding his breath. He only felt its shaky exhale as Tim's head finally broke the water's surface, and he smiled up at his pursuers.

The whistle blew, signaling the game's end and declaring Tim's Team victorious.

Dick smiled. "He's impressive," he said, though his eyes were discerning as they both watched Tim swim the distance to the nearby beach. Tim's teammates had already gathered there, waiting for him. His clothes were wet and obviously heavy as he heaved himself upright, only to nearly fall forward again as Garth gave him a weighted slap on the back in congratulations. His smile grew wider as more of his teammates crowded him, obviously pleased with their praises.

Jason answered with a roll of his eyes. "He's cocky," he said, albeit a little defensively.

"I think it's more like he's eager to please," Dick corrected, his tone low and considering. "…mostly you."

Tim suddenly looked up towards his two observers on the bank as if somehow feeling their eyes on him. His face went blank in surprise for just a second before the corners of his mouth curled up into a proud smile. And that smile… in that moment it was blinding, so earnest that even Jason couldn't deny the small tug in his chest. It only faltered slightly when Jason reflexively scowled in answer.

The moment passed as quickly as it arrived and Tim turned back to their other teammates.

Jason sheepishly looked away from Dick's shrewd eyes; he'd watched the whole exchange. "Lay off, Dick," he grumbled. He kicked his shoe out gently against the dirt footpath. "You're way off base."

As much as Jason admired his mentor, sometimes he thought Dick was blinded by his own experience as Robin. Although he'd long passed the torch, he was just as much the Wonder Boy now as he was then. He was the original and never had to experience the monumental task of stepping into another's impossible shoes.

Alternatively, Jason knew what the people of Gotham thought of him. He was well aware of the sorts of things that Tim Drake's lot said under hushed whispers during dinner parties or fundraisers. Bruce had dragged Jason to enough of them before finally freeing him of the duty after one offensive comment too many. And after that, Bruce tried to shield Jason from their unflattering opinions.

But Jason wasn't a fool.

It didn't matter that Jason had grown so resourceful because of his upbringing, a prodigy only sharpened further by his situation. To others, his origins clung to him like a stain, apparently visible to everyone even despite his mask's anonymity.

Bruce didn't understand when Jason tried to explain it to him. Not really. And Jason couldn't even resent him for it. Bruce couldn't help growing up with his silver spoon as much as Jason could help going to bed hungry when they were the same age. But even though Jason didn't resent him, he couldn't forget it. The chasm that contained their differences was just too wide.

And maybe that's why Jason had such a fucking hard time warming up to the new kid. Why he always felt so defensive around him. Tim was just like Bruce. And his arrival awakened a dark voice in Jason's insecurities that he'd long tried to ignore.

He'd always figured that Bruce would one day wise up and put a new kid in his place. Jason just didn't think it would be so soon.

"Nightwing," a familiar voice called, interrupting Jason's train of thought.

They both turned to greet the familiar voice. Jason had long grown accustomed to Wonder Woman's visits at Wayne Manor and Mount Justice. So he was unsurprised to see the tall woman slowly approach them from the base's back entrance. But the young blonde girl who trailed at her side… she was new.

If Dick was surprised by the new addition, he didn't show it. He smiled wide as he held out to shake the Amazonian's hand.

"Diana, Good to see you." Dick shot her a winning smile that even politicians envied as their hands released. Jason wondered what sort of transformation the man had undergone to become so good at the social obligations of his job. He'd heard the stories of Dick's antics when he'd still been young on the Team. But that kid seemed so far away from the person who stood by Jason's side now.

Maybe there was hope for him yet.

Diana stood regal in her uniform. Her gold circlets reflected the sun's light, casting shimmery beams over the shaded wheat grass. She towered over them, but Jason had long grown accustomed to her dominant presence. Being one of Bruce's closest confidants meant she wasn't a face they saw infrequently on the job.

But it was the first time she'd brought someone new since Troia joined the Team.

Sensing Jason's unspoken question, Diana turned to introduce her companion, only to pause as the girl stepped confidently forward.

"Dick Grayson!" the girl's voice was chipper as she eagerly shook Dick's still outstretched hand. Her broad smile extended into her eyes, so eager that her enthusiasm couldn't possibly be faked. "My name's Cassie. Cassie Sandsmark. I've heard so much about you!" Her grip was strong over Dick's hand, and only Jason caught the faint twitch of the man's eyebrow before she released it. Jason had to conceal his smirk as Dick carefully pulled his hand to his chest, his smile never wavering despite his obvious pain.

"Cassie, good to meet you finally. Diana's only said great things."

Cassie's face flushed beet red, and Jason thought then that she might just about combust from the compliment. Jason felt for her honestly. He knew very intimately what sort of a mind fuck it was to receive praise from the universal Wonderboy. Jason had been known to be put in a praise-induced stupor a time or two himself.

Cassie quickly recovered herself, though. Faster than Jason anticipated. It was honestly a testament to her composure… But Jason could suddenly care less about that; her muscles had grabbed his attention!

Shown off by her cropped tee shirt, her biceps damn near rivaled his own. And hell, he'd worked hard for those. But hers appeared natural, and he honestly wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been born muscular, able to lift a tow-truck in infancy—

Jason's thoughts paused as he registered her flex, and his jaw nearly dropped when he realized she was staring at him.

No. She was sizing him up.

Her eyes glittered in challenge as her hands crossed against her chest, the subtle contraction of her forearms not subtle as she did so. Her eyebrow lifted and her lip curled, expressing the faintest sign of disgust.

Well… damn, she'd clearly heard the rumors about him then.

Jason was used to it from newcomers. But he still inwardly sighed as he averted his eyes, ruffling his hand in his hair somewhat ruefully. It was her loss honestly. He didn't care if she wanted to believe everything the tabloids said about him. He knew that the picture they painted wasn't pretty. And it wasn't like he was jonesing for new friends, anyway.

He ignored the slight ping in his gut that argued otherwise.

Despite the initial slight, at least he was polite during his introduction. But afterward, he quickly tuned out as Diana and Dick kept yapping about their recent mission. Cassie seemed to have similarly lost interest in the conversation and confidently went to meet with the group still on the beach. His eyes followed her as she made a beeline straight for Tim and gestured eagerly to the cliff. Her praise was noticeable even at a distance.

But Tim's bashful run through his hair was even more obvious.

Jason scowled. So many of the kids his age had started pairing off lately. It was like a switch had turned on in their brains, and suddenly, he was the odd one out because he wasn't interested in other guys or girls that way.

He didn't know why it bothered him so much to see that Tim was susceptible to the same impulses. But as Jason watched Cassie step closer to playfully punch Tim's shoulder, the angry pit in his chest flickered dangerously.

"Looks like they're hitting it off," Dick said, Diana having apparently left at some point. He chuckled at Tim's similarly pained expression. The girl was oblivious as Tim gingerly massaged his shoulder, and Jason rolled his eyes. At least he wasn't that oblivious. "It will be nice for Cassie to have a friend here when she joins The Team."

"She's what?" Jason stared up at his mentor incredulously.

But Dick just smiled sympathetically as if he knew Jason's complaints before he even voiced them. "Not for a few more years. The Amazons want her to finish training before becoming part of the Team."

"You'll just let in anyone these days, huh."

Dick glanced down at him knowingly, once again far more intuitive than Jason was comfortable with. He was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "He's not going to affect your place. You know that, right?"

Dick Grayson had the awful habit of cutting to the chase, and as much as Jason adored him, sometimes he wished that he just… wouldn't.

Tim's laugh sounded over the wind, apparently having recovered from the inflicted injury, and suddenly Jason didn't want to be there on the edge of it for a second longer. He shoved off the fence and trudged down the dirt pathway, not entirely surprised to hear Dick's footsteps padding softly behind him.

"You don't have to follow me, you know." Jason didn't usually talk to Dick this way, but between his shitty night and the recent display of teenage hormones, his mood had grown even more sour. He glanced over his shoulder.

Dicks hands were shoved innocently into his jacket pockets. "You fought with him again last night, didn't you?"

Jason knew exactly the "him" that Dick was referring to. Looking ahead, he shook his head even as he said, "How'd you guess?"

"His mood this morning was even worse than yours."

Jason scoffed, "What does he have to be mad about? He won!" Once again, Bruce Wayne had left one of their many recent arguments victorious, and all Jason was left with was a growing resentment for his role.

Don't get him wrong, Json loved being Robin. He loved it. Just… not in Gotham City.

It was precisely because of things like what happened last night that wore on him time and time again.

Contrary to what Bruce might think, Jason had spent a non-insignificant amount of time trying to understand his enjoyment of being on The Team compared to his dread for Gotham patrols. And eventually, he came to the somewhat unsatisfying conclusion that things on the Team were just so much… simpler.

The Team went after Big Bads, individuals or systems who were indisputably evil and had massive swaths of people at their disposal. Going against them was easy. Jason could get behind that.

But being in Gotham was different. Often, on their patrols, Jason found himself taking down petty criminals—a burglary here, a case of vandalism there. And even when they went after the drug trade, Jason knew many of the people he apprehended were led into it for a myriad of reasons.

Batman had no trouble handing over these criminals to Dent or Gordon. He gave himself a pat on the back and went to sleep at night feeling like he'd done something. Only Jason seemed to be the one left sleepless on those nights, kept awake by the desperate cries of individuals as bars creaked shut behind them, rationalizing their reasoning for why they did it.

Bruce told Jason that people needed to be held accountable for their actions regardless of their situations. Jason knew that. He did.

But time and time again, whenever they actually went up against someone of substance, like Penguin, Black Mask, or the seemingly endless list of names in one of the major crime families. Somehow those oily fucks always got off scot-free. Their lawyers worked harder than a tax accountant in April to make sure that they not only got out of jail but that they stayed out. And sure enough, everyone was unsurprised when they went to their smarmy ways and profited from luring more and more people into their enterprise.

The cycle was endless. Gotham City was rotting. And Jason just couldn't understand why someone as genius as Bruce Wayne couldn't figure out how to amputate the infected limbs.

It wasn't like Jason had an answer either. But he was just a kid; he had an excuse, right? All he knew was that what they'd been doing so far wasn't working.

They'd argued about it again last night. They argued a lot lately. The details didn't matter; it was just another iteration of one of the many they'd had in recent months. But something felt different this time. Jason had never seen Bruce look so angry, so disappointed in him— like he was just one of those irredeemable perps that they picked up off the street.

And as if suddenly doused in cold water, Jason wondered if Bruce hadn't taken him in, would he have grown up only to inevitably find his way back to the other end of that icy gaze? Would he have been the one locked behind bars, left to stare at the receding figure of a "hero" who'd tossed him away, regardless of his reasons or all the awful things he'd been through?

Jason thought back to Tim, and a sick feeling festered in his abdomen. He chuckled darkly to himself. Why wouldn't Bruce choose someone like that over him? Better the devil you know.

"Hey. Little Wing." As if sensing the dark direction of his thoughts, Dick placed his hand on Jason's shoulder and turned him around. Jason took a reflexive glance around to make sure no one had heard the term of endearment, but upon seeing that the coast was clear, he settled into his mentor's touch.

Dick's eyes were serious as he gave Jason's shoulder a squeeze. "You're not going anywhere. You hear me? Anyone who makes you feel like you don't belong here will have me to answer to." His eyes never wavered from Jason's.

And much as he hated it, it turns out Jason was a simple person. Because that's all it took for that sick feeling to suddenly dissipate. He didn't know how Dick's reassurance felt so indisputable. But it did, and he believed him. Ultimately, it didn't matter if he and Bruce had a falling out or if Jason was suddenly considered too hot-headed for The Team. He knew without a doubt that he'd always have a place beside Dick's side.

Dick would always protect him.

"But do me a favor," Dick said as his hand lowered and slung lazily over Jason's shoulder. "Try to be nice to the new kid." His head tilted in Tim's direction, his lips curving up as they both noticed him again looking in their direction. "He looks up to you more than you think."

Jason scoffed. "Don't know what for." He still thought that Dick had gotten hit one too many times in the head to be making that sort of conclusion.

But Dick just smiled. "I do."

And maybe it was Dick's assuredness that made Jason look at Tim a little more closely, watching as the kid's head turned again and again in their direction, as if he were constantly checking in for their approval. It both annoyed and amused Jason in equal measure.

"Fine," he eventually relented, leaning into Dick's side. "I'll give him a chance. But he's got to prove that he's up to it." Jason's tutelage didn't come free, especially for the kid who would all but certainly take his spot.

And as if an impossible weight had suddenly lifted, Jason felt lighter than he had in weeks. He watched Tim slowly turn away with the rest of the group, distracted by the divvying up of teams for the next round.

So, Dick wanted him to look out for the new kid? Fine. But the kid had better be ready because Jason always enjoyed a challenge.