Aftermath

Establishing a timeline

The talk didn't go as well as Dick was expecting. He was, to his horrified surprise, way too optimistic on the outcome of Jason and Tim's interaction. It had started off civil, Dick attempting to soothe the dangerous tenseness by placing a comforting hand to Tim's knee and offered Jason a gentle smile from across the small coffee table that separated them. Dick informed Tim how he came across Red Hood and tried to overlook the flinch Tim made as Jason shuffled uncomfortably at being mentioned. Unfortunately, Jason noticed and made a snarky comment that set off a chain reaction. Tim snapped back with a backhanded remark, which inevitably led to vehement arguing between the two. Dick was unable to get a word in, their hurtful bites of words ended with Tim pouncing from his seat, throwing Dick's constricting hand off, and hurling himself over the coffee table. He crashed heavily into Jason, toppling them both over the back of the sofa.

"I thought Barbara was dead!" Tim snarled as he tried to get a punch in with every sentence he finished. "Gotham suffered because of you! Bruce is gone because of you! Alfred is gone because of you!"

Dick saw Jason's demeanour change immediately at the mention of the Wayne butler. He easily threw Tim off and across the room with a savage roar of rage. He jumped to his feet and pulled his pistol from his holster and pointed it at Tim. Dick gasped and flung himself between them, putting his hands up in surrender, ignoring the knot that swiftly settled in his stomach.

"Alfred's death is on no one but Bruce!" He growled with the ferocity of a starved tiger being teased with hanging food just out of reach.

"Jason put the gun down." He tried to sway him with a quiet voice. "Don't do something you'll regret."

"Regret?!" Jason sneered and pushed the gun at Dick's over-beating chest. "Don't talk to me about regret. You don't think I wish things had ended differently? I had plans to make Bruce suffer, to make him feel what I felt trapped in that wing with..." Jason scoffed and pulled the gun away in frustration.

"You wanted to kill him," Tim muttered from behind Dick, holding his side in pain.

"Yeah, so what if I did?" Jason snapped. "Neither of you have any idea what I went through!"

"We don't, no." Dick shook his head in agreement and spread his hand out at his side, indicating for Tim to be quiet. "We can't even imagine what Joker did to you. Bruce was devastated when he was sent the video of you getting shot. He had spent every day searching high and low for you."

"Stop trying to make me feel guilty for trying to rectify what Bruce let happen." Jason glared wildly, pushing the barrel of his gun back onto Dick's chest. Dick allowed his outer self to remain unaffected, while inside, his stomach had twisted further, a sickening feeling rapidly growing.

"I'm not," Dick assured Jason. "You had your reasons and I won't criticize you for them. I just need you to know that Bruce never gave up on you, he never forgot you."

Jason paused, searching Dick's features for signs of deceit, finger flexing on the gun's trigger. Dick held his breath and dared not look away from the raged filled eyes, glaring holes through him, waiting for the slip up that would never come.

"He used to call me Jason," Tim commented, groaning as he rose to his feet. "By accident, but I couldn't blame him."

"Please Jason." Dick lifted his arm and gently encased the gun equipped hand with his own. "Let us earn your trust again."

Jason blinked at Dick, suddenly overwhelmed. His hand began to shake uncontrollably and Dick coaxed the gun out of his hand and placed it on the table out of his reach. Dick tenderly ran his fingers up and down Jason's forearm, ensuring he had a comforting presence as he tried to make sense of everything he had been told. Tim hissed in pain and Dick couldn't hold back his sigh of relief.