“What the fuck is the matter with you?” Jason asks quietly, dropping an elbow to the top of the counter as he tries to pry out answers from the nagging voice at the back of his head. “I mean… I just don’t get it. If I knew any better, I’d say that all these things going on with you? They’re all some bullshit that you’ve gone and created for yourself in the first place. I expected better from you by now, but you just need to stop giving a fuck and start using your head. It’d be great if you did that for once. It would help a lot actually, considering we have bigger fish to fry than you going through yet another breakup.” For months now, there had been a constant struggle of dominance between him and his far more ‘normal’, his far more ‘weaker’ personality; something he was still in the process of trying to figure out completely. Despite the flood of memories that constantly haunted him, keeping him awake at night – restless and writhing in agony, he couldn’t make sense of anything that had been going on. It was frustrating to say the least, especially when Jason wasn’t too keen on Jamison to begin with. Sure, they shared a few similarities here and there, but for the most part, Jason felt as though Jamison got in the way of things and was just … unreliable, needy. Jamison was too nice and too sensitive, and honestly, Jason didn’t have time for that – especially not now with the current circumstances unfolding… let alone his line of work.

His lips smack together as he wriggles in his seat, surveying the other patrons of the establishment with minimal interest. This “scene” doesn’t suit him at all and it shows, a slew of heads turning around to stare in his direction with obvious curiosity. He hushes instantly out of feeling like he’s being watched, his own gaze lowering as he kicks the tip of his foot against the wooden frame of the bar. “Why did she have to choose this place?” He ponders to himself, lulling the other voice to take a minute to think about it as well. He’s mustered enough energy to raise a hand and summon the bartender over so that he can scoff out an order in a manner that leaves the woman giving him a scowl and side-eye, but he’s too shameless to let it bother him in the moment. If this was Jamison, on the other hand, he would’ve been apologizing more than a dozen of times – but Jason simply flicks his wrist, demands she fetch him his poison of choice and turns his wrist over thereafter so he can snatch a glance at the time on his watch. “Fitting for Stella to take her time,” he reassures himself, pushing the idea of her being in trouble out of his head. The last thing he needs is to bother worrying about saving yet another bat kid. It’s bad enough that his stomach is in knots over Dick and Tom (and maybe even Bruce) and it’s even worse that he’s got absolutely no leads on where any of them could be. Still, it’s hard for Jason – given his history, to approach the situation altogether. He, himself, had been kidnapped once before … and to him, he was abandoned by his surrogate family and left for dead. He’s in a perpetual state of playing tug of war with his feelings on the matter when the bartender approaches him with his order, causing him to stir in his chair once more.

“I’m going to kill whoever is doing this to them,” Jason spouts to Stella as soon as she comes close, tossing back the drink and using the back of his hand to wipe away at his lips. When he sets the empty glass down, there is a smug grin on his face and if she looks hard enough, she can see that he’s very clearly set … very obviously hellbent on exacting his revenge.