#try having ​any league assassin snatching jason away now bitch

[methoughtsphantom]

Cujo’s ears perked up, honing in the sound of a core starting, electricity crackling and a human screaming. The scent of corpse hung in the air, but the moisture frazzled his fur. The pounding started.

And soon the digging too.

[schweeeppess]

"What the fuck'd you do to your hair?"

Tim stiffened at the question, but elected to pretend he hadn't heard it, gathering the things he came for quicker.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

No you're not.

Snatching the grapple off the wall, Tim tucked it into his belt and hauled the bag of items up over his shoulder as he started walking out of the Batcave.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Tim tensed, jaw tightening, as he took a slow inhale through his nose.

"Jason."

His brother raised a brow, withdrawing his hand and crossing his arms. "So he speaks."

"What do you want." Tim ignored the flatness of his tone, adjusting his grip on the bag, refusing to look at Jason.

"I asked you a ques- will you fucking stop that and look me in the face like I'm a human being?"

Tim bit the inside of his cheek a little but lifted his eyes to meet Jason's.

Jason narrowed his own as he spoke again. "I said, what the fuck did you do to your hair, Tim."

"It's none of your business," Tim muttered, anxiety flaring up. "Just leave me alone, Jason. Dick does. Damian does. Why can't you?"

He moved to go around Jason, but his brother stopped him again, moving to block his path and putting a hand on Tim's chest.

Already narrowed eyes thinned further, hiding the toxic green vibrance.

"Okay, no. What the fuck is your problem?"

Tim scowled, hissing, "Right now? You're my problem," as he slapped Jason's arm off his chest and shoved his way past him. Their shoulders accidentally bumped together as he did, and Tim cursed mentally.

"Fuck no."

Jason slammed Tim back against the wall with a hand on his shoulder, once-squinting eyes now opened wider in anger. He pulled himself to his full height and took a step closer into Tim's personal space.

Gritting his teeth, Tim stomped down the roaring rage in his mind along with the abrupt spike in anxiety at Jason's looming, and he forced himself to fucking relax.

"What the fuck. Is. Your. Problem," Jason growled. "Spill it. Now."

Swallowing his fury, Tim spoke. "You've been gone four months, Jason. Shit happens in four months."

Tim could practically feel the anger rolling off his brother in waves, and it did nothing to help calm his own anger and anxiety.

"What does that mean," Jason asked tightly.

"It means," Tim started in a low growl, "that you missed a lot, and you're no more privy to what happened to me than any of the others, so back the fuck up and get your hand off my chest."

"To what happened to you?"

Raised by the goddamn Batman indeed.

Scowling, Tim said, "I'm not repeating myself, Jason. Get. Off."

Jason scoffed at him but let Tim go, backing up a step or two. "Like your scrawny-ass could take me down."

"You'd be surprised," Tim bitterly snapped. "I'm leaving, now, Jason. Don't get in the fucking way again, because I will get you out of it."

...

Two days later, Tim was glaring at Jason from where he sat strapped and Bat-cuffed to a chair.

"What the fuck is you problem?" he hissed.

"Oh, hey, getting some mad déjà-vu," Jason snarked. A second later he rolled his eyes as plopped down into a chair across from his little brother, who was clearly pissed. "You know what I'm going to ask, Tim-bitch, so just answer the question already."

Mocking stupidity Tim said, "Golly gee, I don't know what you're talking about Mister."

Jason scowled. "Cut the fucking act, Tim. Spill it already. What the fuck happened to you, and why are you so easy to piss off."

"You want to fucking know what happened?!" Tim finally yelled. "You want to know why my hair is white?! Why my eyes aren't as blue ad they used to be?! Huh?" He leaned forward in his chair, teeth baring into a sneer. "News flash Jason: You're not the only one who took a green bath anymore."

Eyes widening, Tim snapped his mouth shut with an audible sound.

Jason's own eyes were wide as he stared at his little brother, Tim refusing to meet his gaze anymore, and Jason leaned forward as Tim moved back.

Shaking his head and narrowing his eyes Jason spoke lowly. "Let's start again. When did you die, why did Ra's bring you back, and why in the fuck am I just hearing about this?"

Tim looked like he bit a lemon as be responded.

"I died a week after you took your little multiverse trip with Kyle and Donna again," he muttered, staring a hole into the wall to his left. "We were fighting the League."

Lower he whispered, "I had to, because we needed to save Tam."

Jason spoke, interrupting Tim. "Stupidest shit I've ever heard," he scoffed. "You did the whole self-sacrificing shit again."

"Again?"

"Yes," Jason hissed back. "Again. You've pulled that shit so often before."

Tim elected to ignore Jason and continued with his story-telling, but Jason interrupted him again and he hadn't even opened his mouth yet.

"When you said we," he stared slowly, "who did you mean."

Tim's lips thinned and he swallowed thickly. He was a little surprised he hadn't burned a hole in the wall yet, actually.

"Pru. Myself. Red Star."

"You're fucking kidding me."

"I am not."

"I don't even know who the fuck Pru is, Tim!" Jason yelled. "Why in God's name did you go to save Tam with people I've never heard of!?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Tim snapped, head whipping to face Jason as his rage spiked. "You have no right to say jack shit, Mr. I'm-Going-To-Save-My-Mom-Alone! At least I took people with me," he seethed. "Pru worked with the League- works, I don't give a shit if it's past or present tense -she knows them. Red Star provided muscle I needed. I made a choice, Jason, but I thought it through."

By the time his rant was over, Tim paled.

Jason was silent as he held Tim's gaze. His muscles were taut, lips a thin line, hands balled into tight fists, and the tendons in his neck especially stood out.

Tim's tongue flicked out to wet his lips before he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away. "I shouldn't have brought her up like that."

Jason lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes, and he took a deep breath.

Minutes passed before he spoke, voice quiet. "Apology accepted, you piece of shit."

Tim nodded once and continued.

"I told them the primary objective was Tam, and that she was all that mattered. Getting her out and safe was it."

His breath quickened as he started remembering the events leading to his death, but Tim strong-armed through his discomfort and kept talking, gaze shifting to the floor next to Jason's boot.

"We were feet away from the jet, but Ra's assassins were catching up. If I hadn't stopped and bought time... We all would have died." His eyes flicked back to meet Jason's as he said, "I died for them to live. It was either me, or all of us. What did you want me to do?"

Jason's jaw tightened. It took ten seconds for him to say something.

"Is this what it's going to take?" he asked blandly.

Tim blinked. "What?"

"Is this what it's gonna take? Me locking you into a chair and getting you pissed enough to fucking talk to me?" Jason's hard gaze was in direct contrast to the quiet tone.

Sighing, Tim looked away again. He didn't want to keep looking into those eyes. The ones that conveyed concern, anger, and hurt, all for Tim and probably because of him too. The eyes that told him he was still very much a part of the family he denied himself- the ones that promised pain for what Tim had suffered- the ones that were filled with brotherly affection and protectiveness.

"No," he finally forced out, jaw flexing after the word.

Jason sighed but nodded. "Look, Tim- I get it. Probably better than anyone else in our fucked family. The Pit makes you say things- it makes you do things- that you normally wouldn't. You'll get real pissed, real fast. I get it. But you're fucking strong, Tim. Punch that shit in the face so hard it K.O.s for a day or two at least. You out of us all can."

Tim snorted softly, hanging his head, trying to blink away traitorous tears gathering in his eyes. "I'm not that strong," he muttered.

Jason shook his head, scooting the chair he was sitting in forward more. "Yes, you are. I don't want to hear you say negative shit about yourself. You're one of the strongest of us damned princes of Gotham."

"I'm not," Tim repeated.

"You are."

Tim was getting tired of it, so he sighed heavily and shrugged. "Whatever, Jason, just don't be disappointed when you see you're wrong."

Jason snorted softly and reached out to ruffle Tim's snow white hair. Flecks of black were scattered throughout his head, reminding Jason a little of a rabbit or an owl.

"You're just gonna prove me right, Tim. You'll see."

Again, Tim just shrugged.

"Can I get up now?"

His brother cracked a smirk and took back his hand. "One more question."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Another one?"

"Why does it seem like nobody else in our family knows about this?"

Tim stiffened. "Because I got myself out, and I didn't tell them. They think I dyed my hair." He narrowed his eyes. "And you're not going to tell them what happened, Jason. I'm waiting for the Pit to go down a bit before I do, because you know how Dick and Bruce get. Promise me."

Jason just nodded. "Alright. I promise."

"Can I get up now?"

"In a sec."

"Jason."

"Tim."

thank @lurkinglurkerwholurks for their headcanon on the white hair thing after the pit. and thank a tim mood + imoulsive writing fir this fic.