mrsarcastic003 (
mrsarcastic003) wrote in
trans_92009-09-18 12:36 am
Entry tags:
I fought the law (and the law won)
There's not a whole lot to do, when you're marking time in a jail cell. Tim has paced every inch of it, calculated the estimated area of his new living space (small), and counted the ceiling tiles (42 and 1/4).
He hasn't tried to escape, though he thinks he might be able to, if he really tried. But he won't.
Right now, he's lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling, and hoping that no one comes to visit him. He's not sure he can face their disappointment.
He hasn't tried to escape, though he thinks he might be able to, if he really tried. But he won't.
Right now, he's lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling, and hoping that no one comes to visit him. He's not sure he can face their disappointment.

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And now he had that opportunity.
"I had no reason to take you in," he replied calmly. He was actually in Bruce's debt, one he was paying off by not shooting him right now. Bruce may be in peril, but not because of Leon.
"And you may be an asshole, and possibly insane if even half of what the kids say about you is true. But unless this cause you plan on rallying involves needlessly putting the rest of the crew in mortal danger, which it probably doesn't, you'll give me an occasional headache, but I doubt you'll give me a reason to want to keep you here.
"So if we could cut the shit for all of five minutes, we might actually be able to make our lives easier while we're stuck here. Possibly even get the hell off this ship even faster." Leon shrugged, "Or you can keep being a dick if you think that'll help anything. Your choice."
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What? The kid gave good sass.
"I was actually joking about the first two," okay, so maybe the first one, "I guess they didn't tell you that I make a habit of doing so. I know that Tim was brought here willingly, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need the kind of help a cell can't provide. I wanted to see him and I'm used to letting myself in. Out, too, because the law doesn't really have time worth wasting on me."
And, to prove that he really does joke occasionally, "If that's going to be a problem, I can provide you with the four methods of escape I've assayed for this particular cell so that you can deter such behaviour."
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"We know Tim needs help, they all do. But they also all need to be held here, securely, until we can figure out how to best help them. Can't have people just letting themselves in and out.
"You're right in that I don't have much time worth wasting on this, but I still have a job that needs doing. Even if all I'm doing is putting out fires so everyone else can focus on the important stuff."
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"I understand," he'd had the Joker escape so many times to convince him there was no such thing as 'maximum' security, "But I'm not people."
And then, he does let himself out. It doesn't exactly take twenty minutes, but it does take a lot more than a ballpoint. About four million dollars more.
"Actually, we both have a job that needs doing. One of my boys is still out there."
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Codenames? Secret identities? Pfft! Fuck that noise.That smirk did fade when the cell opened. Leon just shook his head a little. It may have been a four million dollar trick, but one that-- if engineering is as good as they love to brag about-- he won't be able to pull again.
"Jason Todd," Leon answered. "Greyson is handling that one."
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"Not without me he isn't," he replies, pulling the cowl over his head, "He's already been shot once."
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"Grayson's call," he told Bruce simply. "Rule thirty-eight; his case, his lead. I'd rather he not use any of the kids, but he's free to take whoever he chooses and use any resource at his disposal."
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Yeah, get used to it Leon. He may not be making himself at home in the hoosegow any time soon, but when people try to drop regulations around Batman, they'll usually find themselves talking to a fat load of air.
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Leon leaned near the open cell door and looked at Tim.
"So that's your Dad, huh?"
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"Your biological parents...?"
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He pondered leaving Tim alone about then, but something compelled him to stay for a moment.
"So why be a superhero?"
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"...at least not on my world," he added.
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"Isn't it?" Tim asks, raising an eyebrow at Leon. "I've been fighting psychos since I was thirteen. I'm pretty good at it. Why shouldn't I use my training?"
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Leon may or may not deal with the rest of your statement later, Tim. Right now, he's still stuck on the fact that some psycho let a thirteen year old fight other psychos.
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"Yes, thirteen. That was when I started being Robin."
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"We'll talk more later." Leon was going to need a minute.
He started to leave, but paused for a moment. "Just one more thing. Any soldier, whether they've been discharged or on shore leave, aren't allowed to put on war paint and run around being up bank robbers or whatever, even on US soil. There actually is a reason for that. You think on that for a while, and I...
"I need to have a talk with someone."
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But not for being a vigilante. Caped heroes and vigilantes have been a reality in his world for a long time. He might be sorry about his actions regarding the yeerk--he should have asked for help--but he doesn't regret being Robin.