You’re the one who hates me. Would we be friends? No, probably not, we’re too different. But I’ve never treated you differently than I would any other person. You got the same allowances and the same scrutiny. I didn’t give you some impossible to clear hurdle: I just didn’t make you a special case.

[ Tim’s in the trophy area of the cave, half concentrating on cataloguing the history of this cave to attempt to keep his voice level. (He needs to be more like Dick.)

(Isn’t that always the case? ]

I don’t go around tackling you on sight, dropping down on top of you, or throwing you off the damn dinosaur.

[ Yes, he points at the dinosaur as he says it. Tim’s glad it’s here to help him prove his point. ]

I don’t know what your problem is with me. Sometimes, I get the faintest glimpse of something socially neutral, and I start to think I see how you get along with Connor, and then it’s right back to outright antagonism that physically puts me at risk. If you want me to like you, try not trying to put me in a full body sling. The bar’s so low you could trip over it, but you need to feel like you’re better than me for reasons. And worse, the only way you now how to do that is assault. You’re a good Robin when I’m not in the room, but you’re a shitty brother. All I’m asking for is “annoying baby brother”.