It’s not that Robin doesn’t know that the other Titans haven’t been making the effort he’d hoped that they would to include Jericho. It’s not even that Robin is under any illusions about how any further team or small group meetings he held to discuss the matter would be received. He’s tried, see. And, to a certain extent, so have the Titans. It’s just—well, Jericho seemed content enough to flit about the sidelines, and no combination that Robin had tried out had managed to pry him out of his shell; the quieter Titans were content to sit in silence, and Jericho seemed to make a conscious effort at staying on the fringes of the louder ones.
So the tension that rings loud and shrill as a klaxon when Robin confirms that they will need to tell the others is in no way a surprise. Regrettable, but not a surprise. For a heartbeat, he considers only telling the core Titans, to make it easier on both Jericho and himself. Then, swift on the heels of that thought comes the self-castigation: he knows, he knows, he knows what that sort of secret can do, has already had this argument with himself today, absolutely cannot have it again. The core Titans may be the ones whose reactions he can be surest of, but every Titan deserves full knowledge of what may face them and why. Who is he to keep things from them?
He nods, says “If you’d wanted to tell them yourself, I would have translated. Or—“ Cutting himself off, he shrugs, the motion rolling out along his shoulders and down through his arms to where the hand not securing the pad of paper to his leg turns up and outward around its grip on the pencil.
Then, he sighs. There’s a weight to it, the very edge of an old pain brought sharp to surface where it cannot be treated. Glancing down at his notes, he says “So, just to make sure: what you’re saying is that—” he chokes on the sentence like it’s arsenic, like it’s burning him up inside to say it, curses himself a million times over for the weakness as he closes his eyes, lets his expression crease into one of pain for less than the span of a single second before he’s forcing the words out, regardless of the cost. “You’re saying that Slade is your dad, and that he’s going to come for you. And that you don’t want to go when he does.” The Titans have dealt with this before. The Titans have dealt with this before. The Titans—the Titans number upwards of fifty, and the core of five had been able to stop Slade before.
Jericho may have called the man a terminator, but Robin was trained by a man who had looked into the night and said you will be mine, a man who had taken a broken city and his own fear under his protection, and who helped mend it every day and every night, had for over a decade and would for probably decades more—that is to say, Robin knows what terminators look like.
Or, that is to say, Robin knows what terminators look like when they bleed.
“That’s the gist of it, right?” He asks, mentally cataloging the current locations of the Titans hosted by Jump, and the rotation he has them on. He’ll need to call back in the ones out on patrol, the city will need to do without their direct and on scene presence for an hour or so: it had for years, it will again. It’s not like they don’t have several teleporters on hand if disaster should strike.
He knows that that is not the whole of what Jericho had told him, but he’s decided that the bare bones of the situation will do for those who are to stay in Jump or to return to their own respective homes. This is a delicate situation, and while transparency is key, Robin knows that he will have to parcel out information carefully. The Titans deserve to know about any life threatening danger they may face. The Titans also deserve a leader who knows when certain bits of information would cause only conflict.
Going off to New York with someone who has just revealed affiliation (no matter how unwilling) with one of the biggest threats the Titans have ever faced is plain stupid. Robin knows it is.
Jericho deserves a chance not only to be told that he is still a Titan, but also to feel that he is still a Titan. His inclusion in dealing with this new threat is key in making sure he does. By allowing him to fight at the Titans’ side as a full member of the Titans with all the trust that entails, Robin hopes to curtail any lingering doubts that Jericho may carry about his place on the team, and to do the same for any of the more wary members of the team.
Robin’s gambling on this.
“I can have everyone back in-Tower in a half hour, if you’re okay with doing this now.” He says, arching a questioning eyebrow at Jericho. “Just to get it over with.”