Jason's abnormal reaction made Tim frowned, and he said inexplicably, "What do you think I'm going to do?"

Jason: "..."

Darkshark Clark, or Darkshark me.

Dick is not listed because he still has a little confidence in Tim. He knows that Dick’s white moonlight filter has not been cleaned at Tim’s place. Robin, how, how now—

I shed tears.

He said politely yet tactfully: "Xiaohong, Clark didn't do anything, and it wasn't his fault in the first place."

Tim said lightly, "I know."

Jason thought that if you knew, why did you take me to Clark's small apartment? Could it be that you are going to change him to a bigger one?

Tim stepped on the gas pedal again. "Dick's at Clark's apartment."

Jason: "!"

The Red Bird's declaration of danger in Arkham immediately came to his mind.

He didn't think about how Tim knew Dick was in Clark's apartment, these detectives were all the same evil, but he didn't think Tim should meet Dick, Wayne's house was messed up enough, there was no need to add a little force Take the drama of looting.

It's not that he wants to think in a wrong way, the main thing is that the object of coveted is Dick - that Dick with a beautiful buttocks, who wouldn't want to attack Dick if given the chance?

Jason said quietly: "I beg you, let him go."

Tim's bright brain rarely gets stuck.

Oh shit.

He really wanted to blow Jason's hood off and sink him into Gotham Bay to wash his head.

Tim put on a stiff face and ended the trip with a smart drift. He ignored Jason who was gesturing to him behind his back, walked into the unit building, and pressed the elevator.

Jason whispered a few words, strode up the steps, and followed Tim step by step: "Really, this is not your script, Damian is more suitable than you."

Tim didn't answer, walked all the way to the door of the small apartment, bent his knees slightly, and kicked the door open with a bang!

Jason shuddered again.

He collected himself, and slowly apologized to the deformed door: "I'm sorry, door."

He deliberately lingered at the door for a while, seeing Tim's back had disappeared into the bedroom, tremblingly: "Clark, run, or it will be too late."

The bedroom was unusually quiet. He put on his slippers with great reluctance, and rubbed against the door of the bedroom. At a glance, he saw Tim staring at the quilt on the bed with a look that made his heart skip a beat.

Jason: It shouldn't be.

No matter how deeply Dick slept, he should have woken up after being stared at by such eyes, not to mention that he himself was an extremely keen vigilante.

But this is Clark's apartment, and the quilt he was clutching was filled with the warmth of the sun. He paused, and slowly opened his eyes, with sleepiness in his voice: "...Tibao?"

Tim hummed.

Dick subconsciously got into the quilt again, he was still in the decadence after the murder, and he lay flat on his back: "What are you doing here?"

Tim grabbed him by the collar and forcibly lifted him out of the warm blanket.

Dick's body suddenly stiffened into a ball.

In his memory, Tim, who took over as Batman, is no longer the unit of measurement of combat power. He has seen Tim hammer the enemy to death more than once in various ways.

And Tim is the person who sticks to Batman's bottom line the most. In that world, almost everyone has the weight of life on their hands.

—except Tim.

Dick flinched slightly.

But Tim didn't use practical actions to make him reflect on the wrong decision to kill the clown as he imagined. He just looked at Dick with a gloomy face for a while.

Then, slowly, he asked, "Can I trust you?"

Dick pursed his lips nervously.

He could understand what Tim meant. Bruce's principle of not killing was not unfounded, but a real hidden danger.

All things begin with one.

These vigilantes, once they kill the first person, they will easily fall into darkness. When there are enough lives in their hands, the weight that should have crushed them will become light.

The first person he killed deserved hell, the second person he killed was barely heinous, the third, the fourth—until he grew numb to the passing of his life.

Dick lowered his eyes: "Sorry, I promise you, I won't kill anyone again."

Tim laughed.

"Greyson, what's the use of your promise to me?" He said with that characteristic indifference: "Let me guess, you will never kill again, unless the fuse that caused Clark's corruption reappears?"

Dick opened his mouth and found himself unable to refute.

He really didn't know what he would do if that hopeless future came true.

The big blue bird glanced at the photo frame on the opposite desk, which was full of photos of Clark with his relatives and friends. The photo of him and Clark was placed next to Martha's single photo.

Dick: "Sorry."

Tim's blue eyes glowed coldly, and he paused for a moment before closing his eyes, trying to hold back the anger that was already on him. He had never found this blue bird so irritating.

Dick didn't say a word, maintaining the previous posture, confronting Tim, his eyelashes trembling slightly, he was already prepared for the worst mentally, no accident, there were only two ways out for him.

Blackgate Prison, or Arkham.

The room suddenly fell silent.

Therefore, the soft, slow and careful chewing sound became more obvious.

Dick: "..."

Tim: "..."

Oh shit!

They turned their faces sideways at the same time, Tim's face was so dark that it could drip water, and Dick's eyes unconsciously showed a little more disapproval.

Jason was devoting himself to eating the apple pie. To be honest, he almost forgot the taste of apple pie. Naturally, the self in that memory had no chance to taste it, and he hadn't eaten it since he and Bruce left the earth in a spaceship. Had a few meals of normal food.

The sweet and sour aroma blooms on every taste bud, it is perfect - anyone who has drifted in the universe for so long, the small cake baked by Bruce will feel delicious, let alone this apple pie?

He took another bite full of emotion, and was chewing when he suddenly realized that there was no sound next to him.

Jason: "..."

He turned around slowly, still holding a scalloped apple pie in his hand, inarticulate but doggy: "Are you done?"

He savored two more mouthfuls, and then swallowed cherishingly. Looking at the unclear eyes of the two, he looked at the apple pie, picked up the plate kindly, and handed it over there, with a faint flash of reluctance and loss on his face.

Tim's expression was dark and unpredictable.

Jason held the baking tray for a while, but no one reached out to take it. He breathed a sigh of relief, quickly withdrew his hand, dragged a chair and sat down, put his legs together, and put the baking tray on his lap.

"Go ahead." He waved his hand inadvertently.

Seeing Tim and Dick's operations always reminded him of some past that he didn't want to face—the embarrassment made his scalp tingle, it was too terrible, and he couldn't help but think back to what he and Bruce were like in the eyes of others—

His hood was all-inclusive anyway, Jason reassured himself reluctantly.

Interrupted by him like this, the other two couldn't go any further, Tim let go of his fingers, and Dick fell down on the bed along with it.

Jason had a very happy meal. Just as he was happy, a shadow suddenly fell in front of his eyes. The next second, the baking tray on his lap was snatched away, and it landed heavily on the bedside table with a crisp sound.

He protested dissatisfiedly: "Hey!"

He raised his face, looked at that delicate chin, his eyelids twitched slightly, and felt a toothache for no reason.

This experience is not good.

He sighed, and tugged at the hair on his sideburns in depression: "Damn, do you really want to listen to my opinion?"

Tim continued to stare at him.

"Cough, clown, it's just a clown." Jason relaxed his body, leaned back lazily on the chair, and kicked Tim's calf with his toe: "If you want me to say, be careful."

He raised an eyebrow with a cracked expression: "I think it's too weird for me to say that."

"...But Xiaohong, normal people and Clark's don't count. Take me as an example, an ordinary and ordinary human being." He pointed to himself: "Would it be strange to become black because of killing the clown? Weird villain."

Ordinary Red Hood paused for a moment.

He couldn't say a word: "If you will, then you should reflect on yourself."

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