It was so very like Bruce to try and cover his tracks. So very like him, in fact, that Jason knew that the moment Bruce turned to the cop car to clean up the little mess that Jason had made, Jason found himself feeling confident enough to crawl onto his feet with his gun in hand. This was it. Bruce wasn't going anywhere. This was the beginning of what future-Bruce had insisted upon - this was the beginning of everything. Fingers tightening around the handle of his pistol, holding the weapon with an expert grip, Jason cleared his throat and smiled. "Wow. I gotta admit - pulling one over you? So much easier than it should have been. Either I'm a genius or you're just really, really stupid. Hmm." With his free hand, Jason reached up and tapped a finger to his chin. "Which seems more likely to you?"
Jason didn't expect Bruce to respond to that. Especially not while he was holding a gun to his face, looking all too smug for his own good.
"It's about time we had ourselves a little one-on-one, wouldn't you say?" Blood trickled down his face, but Jason didn't blink. Blood was nothing. The important thing was standing right in front of him. Nothing else mattered right now. Nothing else in the world. "See, I've been doing some thinking. About you. And all this, with me hating you and you wanting to 'fix' me up." Jason paused, then smiled faintly. "Kind of the other way around, too, right? I wanna fix you. I wanna make you what you're supposed to be. And you hate me for it." Batman would probably try to spin him on the usual. Jason was wrong. Blah, blah, blah. Killing was also wrong. More blah. He fully expected to hear a load of that for a while. Until he made everything right, that was. Then Jason expected things would change drastically. They had to. The Bruce from the future had made that very clear.
"You haven't given me a chance, Bruce. You haven't let me show you how things are from where I'm standing. You haven't even tried to look at things from my perspective, but that's all going to change tonight."