Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.

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Jason was headed to his room. Hair still wet from the shower he'd had after a training session. Bruce and Dick had been planning for nearly a week now. Jason had pretty much left them to it. After all, he didn't know Timbo all that well. And despite the fact that he wanted Timmy back as part of the family; he knew that he had a pretty high chance at mucking it up, by stepping in some unspoken trap.

As he wandered past the brat's room, he heard voices. Damian was talking to someone. But Jason knew where everyone else was. And none of them were in Damian's room with him. It couldn't be a friend… Damian didn't have any.

He slipped into the room.

Damian was sitting on his bed, with his laptop open and in front of him. Conversing with someone.

Jason had no illusions that Damian wasn't aware of his presence. But didn't want the other participant in his conversation to be aware of him. So was carefully ignoring him.

It only took a few words from the other end of the Skype call for Jason to realize who Damian was talking to.

And more importantly what Damian was up to.

Jason kept his mouth shut. He wasn't going to risk closing down a line of communication. Even if the topic of conversation was just plain weird.

However, when his name was mentioned, Jason couldn't hold back.

"What wouldn't I appreciate?" Jason cut in, moments before he moved into position to see Tim, "And why not?"

While Tim blinked in surprise, Jason assessed the younger vigilante. There were large bags under his slightly bloodshot eyes and his skin was pasty, but not as bad as it could be. The tightness in his expression could be due to either pain or surprise, and Jason was betting on a combination of both.

"Yu Yu Hakusho." Tim stated after a moment, recovering quickly, "The main character reminds me of you. But there's other things going on, that I don't think you'd appreciate."

"Is it violent?"

"A bit. Nothing I wouldn't feel bad about showing most kids Damian's age or younger. Give Liam a few years and I wouldn't be mad about her seeing it either."

"Tt, of course I am above such trivial things."

"Then show me." Jason instructed, "Let me make my own mind up."

Tim tensed for a moment, before bringing up a video.

"And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke. He's 14 years old and is supposed to be the hero of the story...but oddly enough, he's dead."

Jason felt his hackles rise with the utterance of the line, not two minutes into the show; but he forced his anger down. He would not confront, yet. The comparison was obvious.

And yet, he couldn't believe Tim would make that sort of connection. It seemed unnaturally cruel from the teen.

Then as the episode developed, Jason saw other things that allowed him to emotionally connect with the main character. He was a punk, with a bad reputation, who didn't really care about things like that. Throw in the alcoholic mother and Jason was easily able to get where Yusuke was coming from.

"What happens next?" Jason demanded as the episode finished, "What sort of ordeal does he have to go through? Does he come back to life? Does he become a zombie?"

"Okay," Tim blinked, "I didn't think you'd like it."

"Why not?" Jason challenged.

"It's popular literature. It's Anime. It's Manga… You're a Classicalist. You prefer the Classics. You read Shakespeare Plays… For fun… I'll watch the things, but I won't read the plays unless you force me to."

"That way they have the interpretation I see." Jason defended himself, "Rather than the interpretation of others."

"You compare and contrast the works of the Bronte sisters. You state that 'Pride and Prejudice' is not the greatest of Austen's works. And is promoted to the detriment of her other works. You even critic the dramatizations and rank them compared to how close to the original text they actually are! I'm fairly certain that it would be brilliant entertainment for the rest of us to watch you watch 'Pride and Prejudice and Zombies'."

"I do not follow." Damian frowned slightly.

"He'll be screaming at the tv the whole time. Upset at the interpretation. It was fun enough watching Jake, and he focused more on art."

"Jacob Spencer?" Jason put the name in gently.

"Yeah." Tim's eyes flicked away from them.

"You are aware that that was not his real name?" Damian pressed.

"I knew." Tim shrugged, "He was Jacob Stone by birth. He was hiding… From his father. That's part of the reason why we got on. Neither of us meet the expectations our parents had for us. He was way too smart. He could just look at a painting and tell you if it was a forgery or not. He was always right. All the testing in the world, couldn't beat him."

"What was he like?" Jason asked gently.

"Fun. Smart… Genius level smart. You'd have liked him. He believed that Christmas wasn't Christmas without a bar fight. And he never missed a year."

"Sounds like my kinda guy."

"You would have gotten on well. He loved the history of art. And had a wicked sense of humour. It didn't take much to persuade him to write a paper under one of his alias where he only referenced papers by his other aliases. I was trying to talk him into writing a paper as himself. Not Jacob Spenser. But Jacob Stone."

"He did not want to receive the credit he deserved?" Damian was confused.

"Jake never liked anyone knowing about his intelligence. He was big and strong. He was a jock. His father ran the family business, oil rigging and construction. It was expected that Jake would take over. But he couldn't… He was too bright to do that. He had this way with history… He could really bring it alive. I've always loved history. But I focus mainly on the people. Not on dates and locations. He could link everything together in a way that made sense to me. He used to walk through museums and tell me about the art, explaining how it fit into the cultural, historical and sociological situation of the time."

"He would take you to Gotham Museum of Art?" Damian blinked.

"No. Jake would go do authentications around the world. Sometimes he'd let me tag along. I'd be his younger brother, a cousin, a nephew, a student… Whatever fit with his alias. No one ever questioned it. I'd help him set up decoys so that no-one could trace his origin point."

"Sounds like a cool guy." Jason smiled.

"Drake," Surprisingly Damian's voice had a touch of tenderness about it, "You're tired. Get some sleep. I will speak with you tomorrow."

"Night, Damian. Night, Jason." Tim agreed before cutting the connection.

Jason barely waiting a heartbeat, before turning to face his youngest sibling.

"And just what was that? How long have you been talking with him?"

"Every day since Kent brought his report to father." Damian returned calmly, "While Grayson and father are meticulously planning, I decided to try and establish a line of regular communication. We have been spending up to four hours a day watching and discussing popular culture. In particular focusing on the works of Tolkien."

"Why would he agree to do that?"

"I may have alluded to an attempt to establish an alliance with some of the Geeks in my school. Drake is educating me in popular culture. I chose the works of Tolkien, partially as they are popular with the Geeks, but also because I had researched enough to know that they are particularly long. Thus I have been able to prevent him from working for at least two and a half hours a day. This, combined with his work ethic, has caused him to neglect his own health; in that he is not sleeping the requisite number of hours a night."

"Thus leading to sleep deprivation and the loose tongue he just displayed." Jason remarked.

"That was not my original intention. Although it has the potential to be useful. I was attempting to provide time during which he could relax. I was anticipating him dozing during the films."

"He wouldn't do that. Not if it could potentially benefit you. Why did you start this? Beyond an attempt to get him to sleep more… A losing battle, by the way… At least without drugs being involved."

"According to my research the best methods of repairing a broken relationship involve active listening and communication. In addition, participating in activities that the other person enjoys is also recommended as a good bonding experience."

"You're trying to make friends with him."

"The first overtures of friendship were made by Drake. I was a foolish, arrogant child who failed to realize what I was being offered. I gave him nothing but scorn and violence. He has learned not to offer such things to me again. I receive offers of allegiance. Offers of servitude. However, I receive no offers of friendship. Any such offers must originate from myself."

"But he's too cautious to accept them."

"He does not believe they are my true intentions. I have learned much since I left the care of my Mother. I should not have rejected the overtures. I believed they were a method Drake was utilising to put me in a subordinate position to himself. When in fact they were a method of establishing a relationship where he would enable me to grow into my true potential. I could have learned much from him by now, had I realized his true intentions, rather than my biased perceptions of him."

"Yeah. I made that mistake too. Probably for the same reason you did. Talia told me about my Replacement. I built my whole perception of him around her words. Which was pretty dumb of me. I knew she was manipulative. I should have known better."

"Mother also coloured my beliefs about Drake. I previously believed that she believed him a threat to my position as Father's Heir. Now I am reconsidering that belief. Perhaps she knew even then he was a threat to her position."

"What do you mean?" Jason's voice grew suddenly cold.

"While I find it difficult to believe that Grandfather has a Half-Sister still roaming the world, I know she would not be interested in Drake, unless Grandfather was interested in him. Unless possessing a piece of him would be to her advantage."

"A method of one-upping Ra's."

"Precisely."

"Why would Ra's be so interested in Timmy? They had little interaction that I am aware of."

"I do not know. That is what worries me."

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Please Review.

I write stories because I can't draw. I have all these images in my head that I cannot reproduce. So I try to describe them with words. If anyone else would like to try to translate what I have written into what they think I saw in my head, they have my permission. I only ask that I be notified of it, so that I may look and go "Ooooh!".

Many thanks to my reviewers.