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“Fuck you!” Slade screams from the roof across the way.
“Do it yourself, coward!” Jason responds in kind.
Dick stops moving for the first time tonight and stares in bafflement at the scene in front of him. The only thought twirling in his head in that very moment is a passionate, very intense and sincere: What the fuck.
So many questions follow in quick succession: Why is Slade here? Why is Jason fighting with Slade? Why is he not running over there right this second and helping his brother?
A grapple line sounds from somewhere on his right side, revealing Spoiler in all her purple glory. She whistles, like this is something awe-inspiring—like this is fucking normal. “Ohhh, trouble in paradise.”
“How, pray tell— How is Slade Joseph Wilson and Jason Peter Todd paradise?!”
Stephanie turns to face him, head tilted just so like she’s genuinely confused. “Why do you know Deathstroke the Terminator’s full name?”
It’s like he’s losing feeling in his fingers, the way he’s holding his escrimas so tightly. “He hunted the Titans for blood and sport.”
“Sounds like they’re perfect for each other.”
The street lamp flickers. He takes a deep breath, unsure if he’s losing feeling in other places or maybe he’s finally having a stroke. “Spoiler-”
Red Robin grapples onto their roof from Dick’s left side and his cape silently settles over his frame. “Since when were the murder husbands fighting? Had dinner at their place on Friday and they were disgusting.”
Dick finds an escrima stick in his immediate sightline as he rounds in on Tim, then makes a conscious effort to put it back down. “A: What the fuck were you doing at their place? B: They have a place together? C: They’re married?!”
“You forgot D: Lowkey raising a kid together,” Stephanie oh-so-helpfully adds.
“Two, kind of. But Wing’s unknowingly co-parenting Robin.”
Dick tries not to focus too hard on the image in his peripheral vision. “I cannot stress this enough: What the FUCK.”
“Oop, and now they’re making out.” Stephanie readies her grapple line. “I’m out of here. See you later, Red.”
Tim waves goodbye at Stephanie then sighs and shakes his head. It’s a visceral feeling, to feel your own eye twitch and yet cannot get yourself to address the core issue.
He watches Jason and Slade make out, and the distance is frankly ridiculous for the amount of body-touching he does not want to see.
“Just ask for an invite to dinner.” Tim pats him on the back. It feels placating, sort of. “Bring Robin, it’ll be fine.”
Nevermind.
“It is not fine, this is not fine, why am I going insane?!” Dick screams at Tim’s retreating back, grappling away like he didn’t just enable a murder.
“Did you drink the green kool-aid, ‘cause I could’ve told you not to!” Jason calls out from across the way; taking the time out of his very busy make-up make-out. Dick has a migraine.
He glares at the smug-ass grin on Slade’s face—bare and stupid, and absolutely dead to him.
Jason raises a brow that Dick can just barely see from the distance as he signs, “You good, bro?”
Dick doesn’t respond for a second. He thinks he just blacked out. Then he mouths, “I’m going to kill you,” at Slade and grapples away.