I used to piss him off on purpose. Not when I was Robin - whatever he might think, the choices I made then I made because I believed they were right. Only the Red Hood was meant to be a thorn in his side, and the Red Hood had better toys. I have a gun and a tin of beans and a man beaten down but still filling up that entire wall, and -

"I don't understand you," Jason exhales, letting his gun arm fall. Curling his shoulders in, he lets the wall take his weight, sliding down until he's seated. For a lack of anything more dignified, Jason picks up his beans.

"I have a life here. And up there. I'm not alone."

I have friends, and I came here bleeding. Is that pride?

I don't want them to see how fucking pathetic you make me.