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Crashing a Rooftop Pity Party

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“I don't see why my coping mechanism is so bad. Look at yours.”

“You looking to get pushed off the roof tonight, Grayson?”

“And here I thought you would just shoot me.”

Jason didn't say anything to that, just sat down on the edge of the roof next to Dick. “What's eating the golden boy tonight? Get a little tarnish on that halo of yours?”

“Can't tarnish what was never there to begin with,” Dick said, leaning back against the sculpture and wondering why almost all the buildings in this city had statues on them. It was some kind of unwritten rule designed to make a creepy place more unsettling by adding freaks to the décor.

“You know, if you've got PMS, there are better ways of dealing with it than sitting on a roof having a damn pity party.”

“No one asked you, Red Hood. I don't even know why you're here.”

“I was brought back from the dead with the special talent of annoying everyone connected to Batman,” Jason said, and Dick didn't look over to see his smile. “You gonna spit out what's bothering you sometime this century? If not, I can always shove you off the roof and see if you remember how to fly.”

“I'm tired of having it thrown in my face that I move forward.” Dick said, closing his eyes as he forced himself not to hit his head on the gargoyle. “Something bad happens, and I move forward. I keep going. It's what I do.”

Jason nodded as the earlier part of the conversation came clear. “Hell of a lot tamer than mine. I get angry. I get revenge. I kill people. Yeah, compared to me, you're a damned saint.”

Dick sighed. “Not trying to be a saint. That's not what any of this is about. That's what people don't get. They don't see it, not in the terms of what it is. We're survivors, Jaybird. It's what we do. What we are. What we were made.”

“That sounds like something I'd say.”

Dick shrugged. “All of us keep going in a world where any sane person would have given up a long time ago. That is how Gotham fell as far as it did. Everyone gave up. We didn't. We're all angry. Or we were. It's what kept us going at one point or another, and who the hell has the right to judge that?”

Jason was quiet for a moment. “You know, if you keep being philosophical like this, I might just have to start liking you.”

“Yeah, right. You're too busy being angry to like anyone.”

“Shut up, Dick.”

“Even heroes get angry,” Dick told him. “The trick is knowing when to let go.”

“And when to move forward?”