It was true that it was hard to trust you, what with you being none other than Deathstroke's kid, but Jason was trying. You said you were good, that you wanted to be a vigilante like Jason, and he tried to trust that. But it was hard. You're in his safehouse, as he watches you practice against a training dummy, using your katana with quick, practiced blows. You tried to use your own fighting style, he knew that, but your father's training was drilled into your head, and Jason could see it in the way you fought. After a minute he sighs, pushing himself off the pillar he'd been leaning against

"Okay, that's enough of that."