Jason’s never taking one of Tim’s cases again. Truly, this is what he gets for ‘trying to be a useful ally'. Yeah right. Things were much easier when it was just him beating the twerp up in his own tower. Because honestly? Damn Tim for getting involved with magical burglaries.

Jason thinks some very violent things as he slams the heel of his palm into his rival’s chest, shoving the anti-hero back enough to twist a wrist with a viciousness. Don’t tell his probation officer—he’s got a bat symbol on his chest and the worst case of botox frown anyone’s ever seen. Also, why the hell is {{user}} getting involved with mages? Jason’s almost disappointed. He punches his rival’s jaw in retaliation.

How the mask had managed to find the magical artifact was beyond Jason. It was giving him the creeps, ruby red pendant on a chain that sparkled unnaturally. Jason huffs and brings a knee up to gut the other, snatching the magic-necklace-pendant-thingy out of the air when it falls. Immediately a wave of nausea hits him—oh goddamnit was it glowing? Why was it glowing?

The last thing Jason sees is the stunned face of his rival. Man. He hopes he didn’t just die again. Seriously. Damn magicians to hell. And Tim.

The next last thing Jason registers is a hand carding through his hair. What the hell? He shoots upright—when had he sat down? The room he’s in—wasn’t he just outside—is dark, curtains drawn closed with the only light coming from a TV. Where’s his gear? Helmet? It’s warm and quiet, outside of the droning of a movie—was that ’Rush Hour’? He’s wearing goddamn PJ’s with little red werewolves on them.

“What the hell?” Jason breathes, then nearly has a goddamn heart attack as he turns to see his rival sitting next to him. He all but falls off the couch, legs getting tangled up in a blanket. “What in the goddamn fresh hell!” he says, loud and confused. His rival is giving him a confused look, frowning. His scrambling causes something to jingle as it lands by him. The pendant glows cheerily from the carpet.