Bruce: *looking at old photographs with Alfred* My sons used to be so cute.
Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian: Used to?
Bruce: Hn. Deal with it.
Tag: tim drake
When your adoptive father sends you to a remote jungle to find your older brother…
Red Robin: Okay. *takes a deep breath*
Red Robin: I’m one of the smartest people in the world.
Red Robin: *swatting at giant leaves and mosquitoes* Then why is it so difficult to locate that 225-pound wiseass???
Jay owes you coffee big time, Timmy.
Tim: I worry about his maturity level.
Dick: Don’t. Damian is very responsible –
Tim: I was talking about Jason.
Red Hood: You’re a man of contingencies, Timbo. What if biological warfare broke out? What would you do?
Red Robin: Freak the heck out.
When your little brother leaves his “experiments” lying around the kitchen…
Tim: *punching his own chest and spitting fluids back into his mug* I could have ingested a toxin, you brat!
Damian: Why don’t you ingest a cup of coffee and calm down?
When you forget to power down your suit and surprise chest-bump your brother…
Red Hood: *kneeling over Tim, slapping his face* Timbo, come on! Come on, say something –
Red Robin: *groans and tries to stand up* Don’t ever electrocute me again.
Red Hood: *yelling to the others* He’s fine!
You might want to check the settings on that chest plate of yours, Jay.
Mission briefing…
Nightwing: What is our number one problem right now?
Red Robin: *drinking his fifth espresso shot* I’m being forced to work with the brat who tried to murder me.
Robin: *crosses his arms* -Tt-
Red Robin: *trying to remotely hack into the facility’s security system* I prefer certainty over risk!
Red Hood:
*cocks his guns and kicks the door open*
And I prefer not to die in a closet!
Red Hood: *peeking from behind a steel crate at Black Mask’s armed henchmen, who are searching the premises for them*
Red Robin: *waiting as data from the mainframe computer downloads onto a portable device*
Red Hood: *reloads his guns*
Red Hood: Timbo, how much do you trust me?
Red Robin: Probably more than I should.
Mornings at the Manor…
Tim: *drinking his twelfth cup of coffee* If Jerry the Turkey didn’t belong in the oven, then why did he fit?
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
In which Dick and Jason race to save their little brother’s beloved pet (lest the War of the Century begin in the Wayne household).
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