"I hate him." Dick snorts from his seat on the sofa. "You can't hate him, Jay, you've never even met him." "I can and I do," Jason insists, slapping the magazine he's been holding down onto the counter. "Food & Wine thinks he's better than me! Look!"

“Bring me the Joker’s head on a platter,” Jason says, and he doesn’t mean anything by it, not really. It’s the kind of thing he jokes about when he’s overwhelmed, and he’s overwhelmed by Tim a lot. Tim’s intensity makes Jason turn flippant, makes him counterweigh the seriousness with comments about his own torture and death, like that will somehow lighten the mood. Jason says all kinds of things, for all kinds of reasons. He doesn’t expect anyone to listen.