Chapter Text
His unpacking went ignored in favor of the case files. They were all Jason’s, which Tim appreciated considering he was still avoiding even thinking about Bruce, let alone actually interacting with the man. It became clear very quickly that Jason gave the files over as some kind of pity move, because by the time Tim broke the case for half of them, Jason’s team had already blown the target sky high.
So Jason clearly didn’t actually need the help and Tim might’ve resented the obvious pity if it wasn’t Jason, who made gestures like it maybe once in a blue moon. At least the experience included an inside look at how his new team operated.
One thing was certain; Jason having the loyalty of an Amazon and an imperfect clone of Superman was a terrifying prospect.
Tim wasn’t sure how Bruce could be so blasé about it, but even blowing up a warehouse in Gotham seemed to garner Jason no more than a half-hearted rebuke. Jason wasn’t killing and that compromise seemed to make everything else he and his team did roll off Bruce like water off a duck’s back.
And even that, judging by Black Mask’s ultimate fate, seemed to be something Jason was keeping to the letter of, not the spirit.
Tonight Tim had been patched into the Outlaws comms—something he suspected they were only even using because of his presence—as they took down a splinter group of Black Mask’s empire; the very existence of which the Red Hood saw as a personal affront.
Being on-comms with the Outlaws involved a lot of silence juxtaposed with sudden yet seemingly inevitable explosions.
“Judging by the blueprints I found they’re using the north end for security operations,” Tim said. He had the blueprints on the coffee table and was watching the operation in progress through a CCTV camera he’d taken control of on his laptop. Not the best vantage point but he worked with what he had available. Some distance was probably for the best; Jason might’ve been fine ignoring his suggestions when he didn’t agree with them, but Artemis seemed to actively dislike his input. “You could focus there and disable security to the entire complex.”
He was pretty sure he heard Artemis scoff over the ear piece.
“Why limit ourselves?” Red Hood asked, clear and amused through the helmet’s transmissions, no discernible ambient noise to muffle his voice.
“You know, just because you have teammates with superpowers doesn’t mean you should forgo stealth and actual planning.” Tim was fairly sure the words would fall on deaf ears, but felt compelled to say them anyway. Jason hadn’t led his own team as Robin, he knew. Running with Dick’s team a few times didn’t count, it was...different.
Jason snorted, a disparaging noise that sounded practiced, used for effect instead of a more genuine response. “If Artemis doesn’t meet her violence and property damage quota she gets cranky.”
“ My quota?”
Somewhere in the background Bizarro laughed. He’d forgone the earpiece as he could hear the conversation easily without one and he disliked Tim’s disembodied voice.
Tim listened to the Outlaws as they made their move and sipped at his soup. He’d mostly been living off the stuff for the last few days, once he’d run out of the meals that Alfred had brought by immediately after his accident.
There had been a pointed phone call about nutrition, but Alfred had enough on his plate without worrying about him, especially when Tim knew it was his own stubbornness that had landed him in this mess in the first place.
The Outlaws worked like a fire raged, leaving only smoldering ruins and devastation in their wake. What they lacked in subtlety they made up for in sheer competence and thoroughness. At least it made sitting on his ass on his too squishy couch slightly more bearable.
It was over all too soon.
“Still avoiding their phone calls?”
Artemis had left the comms as soon as possible, leaving Tim to talk to Jason in relative privacy. Usually that didn’t happen, but tonight it looked like Jason had something to say.
Tim could hear sirens in the background, retreating rapidly as Jason took to the rooftops. He’d stopped monitoring the GCPD response to the Outlaws’ activities after the second burning building. What Bruce hadn’t taken care of, Jason himself had cleaned up in the aftermath, buying the properties up under various aliases. He probably knew that Tim was tracking them, so it was doubtful he’d risk turning them into safe houses—what he did end up doing with them remained to be seen.
He took another sip of his soup before answering. “I’m not avoiding anyone—but if you feel like lecturing me about that, can I just take this opportunity to remind you of your everything?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you do,” Jason replied. “I’d just like to stop hearing the constant whining, so if you could just hurry up and get over it already, I’d appreciate it.”
“That is the height of hypocrisy, coming from you of all people.”
“I’m pretty sure I'm the only one who can say this to you, actually.” Jason’s voice lacked the normal bite it had when he was truly angry or offended. He mostly sounded bored, which Tim wasn’t really sure how to take. “I don’t care if your anger is valid or not, but I swear to God I’m going to kill someone if Dick keeps moping.”
“Wow, I’m so sorry that my problems inconvenience you.”
“An apology means nothing. If you could instead stop your problems from existing near me that would be great.”
Tim choked on a disbelieving laugh. It might have been the first true amusement he’d felt since breaking his leg and he honestly wasn’t sure it was the emotion he should really be feeling. “I legitimately can’t tell whether you’re being this obnoxious to annoy me or to try and make me laugh.”
“Keep wondering,” Jason said, and then the comm went dead.
“Oh, you petty asshole.” For half a minute Tim sat stewing on his couch, thinking about doing something to piss Jason off in revenge, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew where that would lead. Some drawn out war of attrition and Jason was far better at unpredictable than he was and practically fueled by spite besides.
It would be like challenging Dick to a gymnastics contest.
Tim tugged the earpiece out and turned back to his laptop, closing the last of the files for the case with a sigh. At least arguing with Jason had been a distraction from the inevitable—
He was done with the last case file and the Outlaws were leaving Gotham again, on one of Artemis’ missions that she expressly wanted Tim to have nothing to do with.
Soon he would be back to having nothing but his physiotherapy appointments to look forward to and himself for company.