Quick A/N: I've totally neglected this story for far too long. Sorry for that. This isn't going to be the best chapter ever, but I'll try and make it up to you guys.
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(Jason POV)

   It had been a few months since my birthday. Bruce has tried talking to me multiple times, but it's too hard to face him. Not like this, I tell myself. Every time we meet, there's either blood, rain, sludge from a sewer, or guilt covering my frame.

   I couldn't talk to him like that.

   But, this time, he found my newest safe house and waited until I was out of the shower.

   He was sitting at the small table in my kitchen, frowning.

  I sighed and sat across from him. I plastered on a smirk and crossed my arms.

   "Sup, B? Miss me?" He narrowed his eyes.

   "Jason. We can help. I can help. Let us." I didn't let my smirk falter, though it did become somewhat darker.

   "Help me how? Are you gonna stick me in Arkham? Treat me like the Joker?" I couldn't keep the hurt out of my voice.

   "Jason-" "No, Bruce. You replaced me with the kid. Go bother him." I was seething in fury. Though, I did feel guilty. Even if Tim was my replacement, he couldn't possibly have ill intentions. Probably.

   Bruce gave me a pitiful look, a disappointed look, before leaving.

   A shuddering breath escaped me and I glared at my hands.

   I couldn't make him proud. And it hurt. Bad.

   But, I could try. And try I did.

/This is a month later BTW/

   I had just stopped a robbery. I may or may have not killed someone, but he was about to kill a little girl. I couldn't let that happen.

   I made sure she didn't see me before returning the stolen money to the bank vault.

   I slipped out of the building as if I had never been there.

   I got on my bike and drove off. I refused to go to my safe house yet, but I was tired.

   I decided to visit Dick.

   As much as the guy despised me, I couldn't just let him hide away.

   Explanation time, as I'm sure you're confused. Bruce and Dick fought a lot, that much was common information, but it had gotten to the point where neither left their houses unless necessary.

   I didn't bother knocking before picking the lock. I set my helmet on the kitchen counter, knowing it would make a soft noise.

   Dick spun around from where he had been chopping vegetables, knife held defensively.

   I plastered on an easy smirk before saying, "Hey, Dickie-Bird. Bats giving you trouble?"

   He threw the knife. Fu-
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A/N: I know there's an author's note at the beginning of this chapter, but I think I should say something. I don't think I'll put the story on hold, but it'll have updates coming slowly. I don't have a schedule yet, and I'm still a little sick, but it'll be done. Sorry for the lateness.