"You know what," Jason says. "This is going to be a fucking disaster. Bruce can suck my dick."
"Okay," Dick pauses. He has been driving for an hour, now. "Um, that's weird, dude."
"Yeah, you know people ship us, right?" Tim says, typing away on his phone. "Like, there are tags about us on tumblr and everything. We are trending on archiveofourown."
"Oh yeah, Babs told me that," Dick says, and frowns. "Why am I always the bottom?"
"There are even ship wars about us — "
"Wait," Dick glances at Tim suspiciously, taking his eyes momentarily off the road. "How do you know that?"
"Fucking hell," Jason says, rolling his eyes. "Back to the fucking point, please, assholes. Bruce can — " Jason stops. "Kiss my ass."
Both Tim and Dick make an identical sound of disgust.
"Oof. Still weird."
"But seriously, why am I always the bottom? No offense to bottoms, though."
"That's your concern?" Tim deadpans.
"Fucking hell," Jason says again. "This is why Cass is my favourite."
"Cass is everyone's favourite."
"What? I thought that was me!" Dick protests. He looks at Tim from the rear-view. "Tim! Tim, I'm your favourite, right?"
Tim pauses typing. And then he says again, "Cass is everyone's favourite."
"What," Dick leans back to his seat with an oomph, sounding like his world just crashed down in front of his eyes. "No," he whispers hollowly to the void.
Jason rolls his eyes. He does that a lot whenever his family member is within twenty feet vicinity. His life would be easier without any of his family member within twenty feet vicinity. "Can we return to talking about what an ass Bruce is?" Jason says, because it's his favorite topic and talking about it makes him happy and he deserves to be happy, thank you very much. "Because he is an ass. He is a fucking dick — no offense to dicks — I can't believe he is making us do this, but I can. Because he is a fucking dick," Jason adds, "he is a huge fucking dick. Very huge. No offense to —"
"Yes, we get it," Dick says, and Tim says, "god, shut up."
"I think you are overreacting," Dick says. "It's not going to be that bad."
Jason and Tim roll their eyes simultaneously. "This is why no one likes you," Jason says, which is the biggest lie ever. Dick points this out.
"That is the biggest lie ever," Dick says. "Everybody loves me."
"They just think you're hot," Jason accuses, which is like, probably true. Dick isn't even offended at that, he just shrugs like, yeah, duh. Because, yeah, duh.
"Doesn't that imply that you think that I'm ho — okay, nevermind," Dick grimaces. "That's weird."
"That is weird," Tim agrees.
"I will never fuck you," Jason says.
"Um," Dick says, a little uncomfortable. "Okay?"
"I will never fuck you, ever," Jason says. "If you were the last man on earth — "
"Why are we discussing this —"
" — and I have to choose between you, and Lex Luthor —"
"Lex Luthor?" Dick echoes, aghast and shocked, while Tim laughs so hard he wheezes. "Really, Jason?! He literally killed me —"
"— I'd shoot Lex Luthor and marry his corpse. And for the record, to me, you have no sex appeal whatsoever, Dick Grayson."
"Okay, fine, I get it, you can stop now —"
"Nada. What-so-fucking-ever. Zero. Null. You are, to me, as attractive as those cookies Steph made last Halloween. I don't know what the fuss is all about. I'd rather fuck Kite-Man. I'd rather fuck Condiment Man."
Tim sounds like he is having a seizure, and Dick has never been so offended in his entire life. "Condiment Man?" he echoes, and Tim is having an asthma attack at this point. "Fuck you, Jason. I'm devastatingly handsome. My face, as many has stated, is the proof of god's existence. I'll have you know that a painter in Italy has tried to marry me solely because I have, and I quote, 'a body with the proportion of Michaelangelo's David'. And excuse you, a lot of people would kill for a chance to see this ass — " Jason scoffs "— in action. Everyone knows that I'm the prettiest one."
"No, that's Cass," Tim says.
Dick pauses, and then he assents, "yeah, that's Cass."
"That's Cass," Jason agrees. "But I would never — god, I can't even say it. Not with you, Tim, or C — I can't even say it. Not with any of you. Never. I'd rather fuck — "
"Lex Luthor, yeah, we fucking get it," Tim returns to his phone.
"Look," Dick says. "Can we not discuss about making love —"
"Making love," Jason repeats, disgusted. "Dick, you are an abomination."
"Just say 'fuck'," Tim says.
"Can we not discuss about fucking," Dick says. "In front of Tim? He is like, thirteen."
"You'll always be thirteen to me, Timbo."
"Aw," Tim says, sounding actually touched. Then he returns to typing.
"You'll always be my baby brother," Dick adds wistfully. "I cant believe you're seventeen. God, I'm old."
"Exactly. No one wants your crusty ass."
"Excuse you!" Dick points a finger violently to Jason, keeping his other hand on the wheel. "I'm twenty four. I'm like, at my peak hotness right now. You, however, are balding —"
"No!" Jason roars. "I am not!"
"Um," Tim says. "Actually, Jason — "
"Don't think I won't shoot you, Tim!"
"Tim agrees. Damian agrees. Alfred agrees," Dick says brutally. Jason gasps. "Go fuck yourself," Dick seethes, snarling viciously. People who think Dick Grayson is an angel are obviously fools. Duped for life. "And by that, I mean, go fuck Lex Luthor."
"You take that back!"
"Eyes on the road," Tim screams, "eyes on the road, eyes on the —"
Dick swerves just seconds before he could hit a poor, unassuming cat crossing the road. "Oh my god, I almost killed a kitten. Which is your fault, Baldy —"
"I swear to god I'm going to shoot you," Jason pulls out his gun.
"Shoot me then, Mr. Clean —"
Dick lets out a string of curses in Romani. Tim doesn't even blink.
Dick, incredibly, still maintains his left hand on the wheel, driving relatively well for someone who just got shot with a rubber bullet. "Jason," Dick says after he finishes calling Jason various unsavory names, "you won't get away with this. Just you see, you piece of Damian."
"What are you gonna do? Tell daddy about it?"
"That's it," Tim says, eyes never leaving his phone screen the whole time. "Dick, pull over. Jason, switch seats with me."
Dick pulls over.
"I'm not balding," Jason declares, when he finally sits in the back. Dick scoffs aggressively. Tim, who is sitting shotgun, just hums noncommittally. "Uhuh."
"I'm a virile twenty year old man. I am not balding."
"Listen, Tim. I am not balding. A lot of people can attest to that. I am very, very sexually active —"
"No talking to Tim about sex!" Dick snaps.
"Dick," Tim says, as his phone pings several times. "I'm not a virgin."
Dick hits the brakes. The car lurches forward violently to a stop.
Tim almost drops his phone, and Jason barely maintains himself from falling from his seat, and he says, "what the fuck, Dick?" but Dick just looks at Tim with a face of absolute horror. "What," Dick says.
Tim shrugs. "I'm sleeping with Conner."
Jason whistles. The superman clone kid. Not bad. "Well done, Tim," Jason says, and he means it.
"Conner?" Dick says again. "Oh my god. You are sleeping with — oh my god. Why did no one tell me about this?"
"You almost crashed the car, maybe that's why."
"Conner," Dick chokes. "How dare he, I. I don't think I can — hold on. I'm just, I can't —" Dick fumbles to open the car door. "I need — I need a moment."
Jason gets into the driver seat and starts the car. Dick is curling in on himself in the passanger seat.
"I think you're overreacting," Tim says.
"Will Conner be there?" Dick says, his voice muffled by the leather seat. He is faceplanting the seats.
"Yep," Tim says. Which is a lie, Conner is on a mission, but Tim enjoys the devastated moan Dick makes nonetheless.
"Jason is right," Dick whines. "This is bad. This is really, really bad. I can't believe Bruce is making us do this."
"I can," Jason says. "He's a dick."
"Look, it's not that bad. I do think all of us can use a vacation right now. I just wish Damian wouldn't be in the picture."
"You haven't let go of your phone since we got in the car," Jason points out.
"I'm a millennial."
"You are doing Wayne Enterprise's accountancy report, Tim," Dick says from the back of the car. "Not scrolling on instagram."
"Hey," Tim says defensively, "this month's chairboard meeting is crucial —"
"Yeah, yeah," Jason takes the phone from Tim's hand and throws it to the back. Dick catches it effortlessly and puts it in his pocket.
"Fuck you guys," Tim says.
"Alfred would be very disappointed in all three of us," Dick sighs. "I don't think we can swear at the Kents."
"We can't," Tim confirms. "They have a swear jar."
"Triggered," Jason says.
"We talked about this, Jason," Tim, now deprived of his phone, has his hands folded in front of his chest. "You can't say that about everything. It's not how it works — "
"Triggered. You are triggering me right now. I'm having flashbacks. I'm feeling attacked. I died, you know."
"We all died," Dick says. His voice nearly incoherent. He is still faceplanting the seats.
"Mine was the most dramatic."
"I literally died to save the world. Like, the entire world saw me die."
"You were killed by Luthor, Dickie. Don't feel too proud about it."
"I hate Bruce so much right now," Tim says. "Why are we doing this anyway? We are the least qualified people to do this. Why not Steph. Steph is good with kids."
"Steph is in Hong Kong, remember? She is visiting Cass," Dick sighs wistfully. "I wish I were her."
"I can't believe I have to sit here with the two of you. For hours. Why do the Kents live in the middle of nowhere? There hasn't been a sign in miles," Tim seethes bitterly. He is going to talk Bruce's ear off for this.
"We are not lost, are we?" Dick says.
"Of course not," Jason rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time. "I'm driving. I'm the most competent one here."
After several more miles of trees, cows, and grass, they finally find a small diner and asks the kindly old woman manning it for direction. They get in the car and turn the opposite way.
"Jason, you are a fucking idiot," Tim says. He is driving.
"Shut up," Jason barks back from the passenger seat. "If anything, Dickie is the fucking idiot here —"
"We are here," Tim announces loudly, because if he hears any of his brothers say another word, he'll shoot them himself. He pulls the car over in front of a small, pretty house. There are bushes of daffodils surrounding it, complete with a picket fence. Nothing fancy, but very charming; it looks homely. Warm.
"Great," Jason scoffs. "Now we are in the middle of nowhere, babysitting a literal demon child and an alien."
"I lied," Tim tells Dick as they get out of the car. "Conner isn't here. He is off world with Starfire."
The farm is in the middle of nowhere. The sky is blue and endless, and seemingly too bright — a stark contrast of scenery from Gotham and Blüdhaven. The sun is bright. It's beautiful and quaint, serene, and for a short moment, this doesn't seem like a too bad of an idea after all. The air is clean and fresh, and they can smell farm animals and daffodils, grass and — and something burning.
There is a loud crash from the house, followed by a familiar yell of arabic curses. Followed by another yell, this time from a higher pitched voice, sounding suspiciously like "Damian!" and Dick sighs.
A short moment indeed.
Jason declares, "I'm gonna find a tree to piss on. You take care whatever the hell that is."
"I'm coming with, drank too much coffee," Tim mutters, and leaves with Jason in an unabashedly fast pace, leaving Dick standing in front of the car.
More loud crashes resounding from the house.
Dick sighs again.
This is so going to be a disaster.