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Look, I don't like this, I don't like it at all, but I gotta get out of this house for awhile. It's driving me batty... Wait, no that's not how I meant to say that.

Anyway, seriously. I need to get out, and if I go alone I can't promise I'm coming home tonight.

[ He knew he needed to talk to Damian and Tim... He needed to let them know he was still there, even if he knew they weren't the same ones that just left... or the ones from before. With Hana and the other's gone, he found himself less willing to fight. At least with Roy in the manor he wasn't drinking himself to sleep, but he's been up to long and to restless.]

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[ About 20 minutes later, directions to a scummy bar arrive. ]

I am, I didn't see a point in coming home.

[Oddly enough, that’s a feeling Tim can relate to. And if Jason’s going out of his way to send him an address, that must mean he wants Tim to meet him. Invitations like that aren’t a common occurrence with Jason; it would be incredibly foolish to pass it up.

Tim doesn’t take the time to reply, just finds a stopping point in what he’s working on and heads out to the location Jason gave him - a bar, of course it is. Tim pushes down the feeling of unease that washes over him as he walks through the door - he doesn’t really belong here, sticks out like a handful of sore thumbs and everyone knows it - and scans the interior for a familiar figure. It takes him a minute, but he finally spots Jason at a booth in the back of the room. He inhales a deep, steadying breath and approaches, sliding into the seat opposite Jason with a subdued smile, hands folded together on the table in front of him.]

So. What’s good here?

[Dark circles shadow underneath his eyes, a testament to how much he hasn’t slept in the preceding days.]

[ Jason hadn't reached out to either Tim or Damian when they came, he was still sore over losing the versions he had finally opened up to. Dick's advice from before he left to constantly ringing in his head. Seeing Tim walking into the old bar, Four Winds, made him look up and nod, and while mean looking guys eyed him up when he saw down across from 'Red' everyone looked away. He'd gotten the nickname from a long dead man, and it had stuck.

Jason laughed, more a somber chuckle. ]

Nothing is good here, Timberly. It's cheap beer and atmosphere. Your in my stomping grounds.

[Tim laughs quietly, ducking his head while he runs a hand through his hair.]

Yeah, I kinda figured.

[The place had that look. Still - it was as good a segue into conversation as anything. Tim glances back up to Jason, studying his appearance. He looks tired, more so than the usual, even for them.]

It’s really good to see you again, Jason. I didn’t think I’d get the chance.

[ Jason watched Tim as he lifted his drink taking another drink. Studying his replacement for a moment.

The bar was definitely Jason's type of hide away. And the type of place he figured Harper wouldn't find him.]

If I had my way, you wouldn't. I'm getting tired of it all if I'm going to be honest. Your the third version of Tim Drake I've meet in a year.

[ He reached into his jacket pulling out a pack of cigarette's, an old nasty habit he picked back up months ago. Placing one between his lips he lit it with a zippo sitting it on the table. ]

So, what do you expect?

[Tim lets out a low whistle, eyebrows arched.]

Third, huh? I had no idea I was so popular.

[It’s not super surprising, all things considered. By Tim’s estimation, he shouldn’t even be alive, and yet.]

I don’t expect anything. But if you’re taking requests, I’d put “not stabbing me” at the top of the list.

[He delivers the last line in a note of dry, sarcastic levity, turns his hands palms up and shrugs while laughing at his own quasi-joke. It’s been a while since the Jason Tim knew back home last got stabby with him, but he doesn’t assume that this Jason in front of him and that Jason back in Gotham are one and the same. For that matter, Tim doesn’t know what transpired between this Jason and the two Tim Drakes before him, either.]

What do you expect?

Yeah, neither did I, But they always say the third times the charm, and your the third Robin. So who knows, maybe three is your lucky number.

[ As he ashed, a scary looking dude sits down some wings down on the table and nods to Jason, who nods back. Jason motioned to Tim. Go on buddy. Have some cheap bar food. ]

Oh, come on, it's a right of passage. You refuse me, I stab you. It's a time honored tradition, Timbers.

[ At least that got a grin out of Jason as he left the cigarette in the ash tray for a moment to take a drink from his glass again.]

Honestly, I don't expect anything. I don't even expect you and new demon brat to stay. I had just gotten used to the last set. Maybe it's petty of me to judge you two on the last set but that's me. Mr. Petty.

[ He lifted the cigarette again taking another drag his tired eyes staying on Tim.]

Though I do expect you to live in the manor.

[That little glimpse of a grin from Jason makes the flutter of anxiety hovering in Tim’s chest feel a little lighter, and he smiles in return. If they can still joke about past violence and maiming, maybe things are still OK.

Tim’s not especially hungry but it seems rude to refuse Jason’s offer, so he picks a wing off the plate as indicated but meets Jason’s gaze with his own while he answers.]

Hmm, I don’t know - do you really think that’s a good idea? ‘Cause if Damian’s staying there too, that seems like an awful lot of people who’ve stabbed me under the same roof.

[It’s not an outright refusal - Tim’s just used to being more or less on his own, and he’s uncertain that he’d even belong at the manor.]

[ Past maimings and violence are just on par for them. Jason would snap again one day. He had the pit in him, it would come. Ra's warning had to have meaning after all.

For now, he was pretty good at controlling his stabby reactions. A year on a peaceful moon colony did that after all. Once Tim ate one and didn't scream in pain, Jason reached out for one. Yep, test his food replacement.]

Yeah, well that's part of the stab Olympics, kid. You get a gold metal and access to B's cave if you do.

[ He took a bit of the wing and took a moment before adding.]

The cave's down there I just... didn't go down.

[A gold medal Tim can take or leave, but access to the Batcomputer? Well - let’s be real, Tim could probably break and hack his way in anyway, but not needing to fight for it would be ideal. Color his interest officially piqued, Jason. Tim takes a second to lick a dab of sauce off his thumb, pretending to consider the offer; in reality, the cogs of the machinery in his mind are already clicking into motion.]

You want me to check the integrity of the database? Set up some new firewalls, maybe?

[ Come on, Tim just wanted to be part of stab Olympics. Everyone knows. Jason worked on a second wing after dropping the bones on the plate, He was the type that had to get all the meat off and didn't care about the mess. ]

Yeah, Timbo, that's totally what I meant. You want a beer while we talk shop?

[ One day Tim will say yes, he's waiting for that day.]

[Jason won’t have long to wait for that day, because it’s happening now. Tim considers the question for a moment - it’s not really a surprise, not the first time he’s been to a bar with Jason, but Tim’s not sixteen anymore and when you believe you’ve already died, things like possibly-underage drinking seem far less important than they used to. At any rate, Tim knows he’s well above the legal drinking age here, so.]

Sure - if you’re buying. Why not?

[Tim wouldn’t even know what to order and he’ll probably end up giving most of it to Jason anyway.]

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