Just Robin one shots

Say it

"No," Jason lied. Dick quirked his eyebrow in disbelief. It was clear Jason wanted to play the long game with this so he gave up trying to get a confession. "Just leave me alone or else." He walked upstairs as Jason laughed to himself. "Or else. Yeah right."

Seeing that Jason had taken a slow methodical approach, Damian decided to be more forward. Very forward. Too forward. Dick was sitting in his bedroom, reading a book to calm himself down. He heard a knock on the door and, not thinking much of it, opened the door. It was Damian and before Dick could ask what he was here for, he was swiftly punched in the stomach. "Dude what the hell!" he wheezed angrily.

"Huh, so Drake was correct," Damian said. 

"I think you broke my insides." The older didn't seem to mind, shrugging at him. 

"That's quite the exaggeration. Father says dinner is ready by the way." As he walked off, Dick glared at him. He began to silently make a list of ideas on paying his brothers back. The threat he gave to Jason was much more real than the older had thought.

At the dinner table, Dick plotted out what he could do. His plotting was interrupted when a pea was flicked at his forehead. He snapped his eyes up, searching for the culprit. Another pea hit his head when his eyes fell on Damian, this time flicked at his ear. He turned to Jason only to get another ear full of pea from the otherside. "Bruce, they're flicking peas!" he exclaimed. He was getting sick of his brothers now. However, this time he heard his accent slip through and he snapped a hand over his mouth. God damnit they were right. Bruce stared at him in surprise. "When did you ditch the American accent?" he asked. He seemed pleased at the development. 

"He didn't. It just comes out when he's angry and it's adorable," Jason cooed, pinching Dick's cheek like a grandmother. His hand was slapped away and Dick got up. "You better watch yourselves because I'm gonna teach you a lesson for this!"

"Yeah okay, Dick. We're so terrified," Tim teased. Dick gritted his teeth and went to bed early or at least, that's what they thought.

Jason was the first to get taught a lesson. He'd had a rough night last night and his helmet had been scuffed. He planned to clean it for once but when he went to where he kept it, the helmet was no longer red. His helmet was hot pink with daisies painted around the top. "Dick," he gasped. "Told you I'd teach you a lesson," Dick said from the doorway. Jason whipped around to face him, red with anger. "Come here you little-!" 

"Language Jay!" Dick giggled wildly, running down the hall. Jason never caught up with him and had to spend days trying to take the paint off. Unsurprisingly, criminals enjoyed the sight and were often too busy laughing to fight back.

Damian was second. He'd noticed something was wrong with his swords but he couldn't tell why. He picked one up, noticing that it was light. Within seconds, the sword fell apart in his hands. "What in the world?" he muttered. He picked up another and it fell apart again. He couldn't believe it. There was no rust on any of the blades and none of them were corroded enough to make them this fragile. "What happened in here?" Dick asked as innocently as possible. "Somebody tampered with my swords," Damian growled. Dick stifled a laugh and picked up one of the hilts of the swords. "Maybe you should read what it says on this," he suggested. He was eyed suspiciously by Damian but he read it anyway. "It says "Enjoy looking for your swords in England." By the time he was finished reading, Dick had disappeared and a map was left on the ground. "FATHER!" he screamed.

Lastly was Tim. He knew something was going to happen, he just didn't know what. He was constantly on edge. Waiting for something to happen was a lot worse than something actually happening. Eventually, he came up to Dick and asked what would happen to his belongings. "How much work have you done lately?" Dick asked. Tim thought to himself. He knew it was a lot less than normal. He kept falling asleep shortly after he was given his nightly coffee... "You spiked my coffee!" he shrieked.

"Spiked is a strong word. I just made it differently," Dick replied. "Because unlike Jason and Damian, you value work a lot more than you value your possessions." Tim couldn't believe this had happened to him. "But for good measure, you might want to check your computer. Somebody might've tampered with it." He walked away with a triumphant smile on his face. "Oh and Tim?" Tim looked up reluctantly. Dick's face had darkened in a way he hadn't seen before. "If you try something like this again, I won't go as easy on you. My accent means nothing to me now so get used to it."

God this took ages to write.