Just Robin one shots

Say it

This is a continuation from the story where Dick first used his fake accent.

Dick came into the cave seething. He had just been working with Wally on homework and the ginger made him do the whole thing! Even after he promised he wouldn't do that! Then he said that Dick's reward, a pack of chocolate only sold in Central City, was out of stock and took off. The nerve of that boy. It was Tim who noticed the small stomp in his step as he murmured something under his breath. "You alright?" he asked, taking a break from typing. 

"Not in the least! Wally just made me do everything for his school project! All he did was complain about being hungry the entire time!" Dick ranted. He was so angry he felt like he could scream for a year. He murmured further until he felt eyes burning into his body. Due to the feeling of being watched, he looked up to find his brother staring at him with a ghost of a smile. "What?" Dick asked. Did he say something funny? He didn't think so. Then again it was often he didn't realise he said something amusing. "You used your accent," Tim stated, slowly getting excited. The acrobat raised an eyebrow. "I always use my accent."

"No your real one. You used your real one." Dick blushed lightly and he crossed his arms. 

"I did not. You're just hearing things," he said, playing it off. 

"I heard it. When you're angry you must subconsciously use it," Tim said thoughtfully. There was a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I did not use it!" Dick whined.  "I'm going to the training room," he huffed. He didn't want to continue the pointless conversation any longer. There was a punching bag with his name on it.

Tim watched him leave then called his other brothers down to the cave in secret. He wanted to share his findings with them and perhaps they could hear the accent they had loved again. "Are you sure you heard it? It's barely there when he's scared so why would it be if he's angry?" Jason asked. "Dick is hardly angry but he is frightened every night. Perhaps his brain is unused to the feeling of anger so it cannot concentrate on keeping the fake accent," Tim hypothesised. He smiled and glanced up at them. "We'd obviously need to test this theory further. That way we can get reliable results," he added. Jason's face lightened, a grin growing on his face. 

"Are you saying we need to piss him off?"

"In the name of science of course."

"Of course," Jason added. "What say you, Demon Spawn?"

"He did take one of my swords without asking," he said thoughtfully. "I'm in." They smiled at one another, beginning to formulate the perfect plan.

After another punch, Dick decided to take a break. It always felt good to pumble the punching bags with all his might. Bruce taught him to beat the living daylights out of the fabric when he was angry. Although it wasn't often that he did get so angry, he had taken out two of the punching bags in the last year. At least he wasn't as bad as Damian. That guy went through punching bags like Batman did Robins. He sat down to take a breather when Jason waved to him from the doorway. "Hey Dick, can I steal 'ya for a second?" Jason asked. His voice seemed a little too sweet, somewhat sickly sweet. Dick nodded cautiously, walking over to him. What could he possibly want? "Babies first," Jason said when Dick waited for him to move. 

"Okay?" Dick muttered. He walked in front of him until Jason kicked his legs, making him trip but not fall. "What was that for?" he snapped. 

"What was what for?" Jason replied innocently. He got a sharp glare but still acted innocent. Dick rolled his eyes and carried on walking only to be tripped again. And again. And again. And again. Finally, he had enough. "Would you stop bloody kicking my legs!" he shouted. Jason smiled at him, happy with his handywork. "You used your accent." he taunted in a sing song voice. Dick growled at him. He was in no mood to deal with this today of all days. "Did Tim tell you to do this?"