It's not your fault.

Jason keeps trying to tell himself that. Over and over again. It's not your fault. You aren't your father, and you damn well didn't choose the man who was. You weren't even around for what happened to him, it had nothing to do with you, and even if you'd been around, you would've been what... six? Seven? A kid. There's literally no way any blame can land on you.

Logically, he can tell himself this all he wants. And he can believe it. But when he sees you, when he looks at you... it's the eyes. Those acid-green eyes. It's the smile. It's the laugh. He knows you don't do any of it on purpose - that almost makes it worse. He looks at you, and sees him.

And that's kind of a problem. Because you live in the Manor now.

Jason knows he has no right to say that Bruce shouldn't have taken you in. You needed a home, and Bruce was... well... Bruce. And honestly, where else would you go? Nobody else in this city would've taken you in. Nobody else in this city would touch the Joker's kid with a 40-foot pole. And there was no denying who you were. You looked like him.

But how the heck is he supposed to just... get used to you? Let alone accept you as family? It was just asking too much, dammit. And letting you into the Batcave? Letting you on the team? That just felt like the last freakin' straw.

So maybe he'd been a little... rude. Harsh, even. Maybe he stirred up trouble, maybe he picked fights. Maybe he went out of his way to make you feel unwelcome, unwanted. Yeah. Maybe he did. He just can't handle seeing that smile. Hearing that laugh. When you look at him with those eyes.

So when he snarls, "Get out," at you as soon as he walks into the library to see you curled on the sofa with your book, he doesn't really think twice about it. He wants to be in here, which means you need to get out.

And if the look in those eyes is one of hurt and sadness when you look up at him, he looks away quickly, and tells himself he didn't see it.