Chapter Text
Bruce found out.
Of course he did. It took less than twelve hours. Possibly because Dick texted him a single message at 4 AM that simply said:
“You’re gonna want coffee. Ask your sons.”
So when morning rolled around, Bruce stormed into the manor kitchen like a thundercloud in a suit, holding a print-out of the police report Dick had forwarded.
Jason and Damian were sitting at the table eating cereal like two gremlins with zero remorse.
Bruce slapped the paper onto the table.
“What,” he said slowly, “is this.”
Damian glanced at it, unfazed. “A police report, Father.”
“I KNOW IT’S A POLICE REPORT.”
Jason snorted. “Voice crack.”
Bruce turned his deadliest stare onto him. “Jason Peter Todd, did you teach your thirteen-year-old brother how to perform illegal driving stunts in a stolen car?”
Jason raised his hands. “Okay. One: he already knew how to drive. Two: it wasn’t that illegal-”
“It was VERY illegal,” Bruce said, losing one year of life expectancy per syllable.
Damian added, “I executed the drift myself, to be fair.”
“YOU ARE NOT HELPING."
Bruce pointed at both of them. “You’re grounded.”
Damian blinked. “Grounded? Explain.”
“No patrol for a week,” Bruce said. “No phones. And I’ve put parental locks on all your devices.”
Damian looked personally betrayed. “Father- NO. That is cruel and unusual punishment. I have important work to do!”
“No patrol,” Bruce repeated. “You two nearly got arrested.”
Jason snickered. “Dick basically did arrest us.”
Damian nodded. “He was quite efficient about it.”
Bruce inhaled deeply through his nose. “You. Are. Grounded.”
Jason burst out laughing. “Okay no. Nope. You cannot ground me.” He stood up. “I’m an ADULT. You hear me? ADULT. I’m pretty sure grounding expires once you can legally buy beer.”
“You don’t BUY beer,” Bruce said. “You steal it from my fridge.”
“Same thing.”
“No. It’s not.”
Jason waved him off. “I’m leaving. I have things to do. Very important Red Hood things. Vigilante-ing. Crime-fighting. Brooding. Sorry-not-sorry about the stolen car, but you’re not grounding me.”
He made it three whole steps toward the hallway.
Bruce moved.
One moment Jason was walking.
The next moment he was off the floor, slung over Bruce’s shoulder like a swearing sack of potatoes.
“PUT ME DOWN- BRUCE. HEY- THIS IS AGAINST THE- BRUCE I’M GONNA BITE YOU-”
“You’re grounded,” Bruce said calmly while hauling him back toward his room.
“YOU CAN’T GROUND A TWENTY-THREE-YEAR-OLD.”
“I can when the twenty-three-year-old teaches his thirteen-year-old brother how to drift in a stolen car.”
Damian followed behind them at a safe distance. “Jason, perhaps consider accepting your punishment with dignity.”
“SHUT UP, BIRD BOY.”
Bruce kicked open Jason’s door, marched inside, and deposited him on the bed with all the grace of someone setting down a disgruntled raccoon.
Jason tried to scramble off immediately.
Bruce grabbed him by the back of his hoodie and yoinked him back onto the mattress.
“I hate this,” Jason hissed.
“You earned it,” Bruce said, arms crossed, full dad-glare activated.
Jason flopped back dramatically. “I’m gonna escape.”
“No. You’re not.”
“I WILL.”
“I installed extra biometric locks.”
Jason’s jaw dropped. “YOU REWIRED MY DOOR WHILE I WAS ASLEEP?”
“You were snoring loud enough to wake the dead. It wasn’t difficult.”
Damian stuck his head into the room. “Father, am I to receive the same… treatment?”
Bruce turned slowly. “You’re confined to the manor for the week. Your phone stays with me. No patrol. No new animals. No swords unsupervised. And you’re helping Alfred clean the storage room.”
Damian’s entire soul left his body. “THE STORAGE ROOM? Father- please, anything but that.”
“No negotiation,” Bruce said.
“This is tyranny!”
“Welcome to the club, baby bat.” Jason called from the bed.
Bruce pointed at him. “Silence.”
Jason stuck his tongue out.
Bruce sighed. “I swear, the two of you are shaving years off my life.”
Damian raised a hand. “Technically Father, stress-induced aging-”
“DON’T. FINISH. THAT. SENTENCE.”
Damian snapped his mouth shut.
Bruce rubbed his temples. “I’m going to check on the biometrics to make sure Jason stays put. Damian, go start on the storage room. Now.”
Damian muttered something unhearable in Arabic but went.
Bruce gave Jason one last dad-glare before leaving.
The door slammed.
Jason waited three seconds, then yelled down the hall:
“THIS IS CHILD ABUSE.”
“You’re not a child!” Bruce shouted back.
“IT’S STILL ABUSE.”
Damian’s voice echoed faintly from downstairs. “Father, do I have permission to file a formal complaint?”
“No.”
Jason flopped back with a groan. “Worst. Day. Ever.”
Damian called up: “You really should not have taught me the drifting technique.”
“You asked for it!”
“I did not!”
“You said you wanted life skills!”
“I meant cooking!”
Jason went silent.
“…Yeah okay that one’s on me.”
Jason Todd did not stay grounded.
He lasted, generously, forty minutes before he decided Bruce had declared war and therefore Jason was legally allowed to retaliate.
The new biometric lock Bruce installed? Child’s play. Jason had the thing bypassed with a stolen batarang, two hairpins, and the sheer willpower of a pissed-off second oldest child.
As the lock clicked open, Jason whispered, “Freedom, bitch,” and slipped into the hallway.
He didn’t even bother sneaking past Bruce. He used the window. Grapple gun. Gone.
If Bruce wanted to play prison warden, Jason would be Shawshank.
And Jason never forgot a grudge.
So naturally the only logical next step was:
Invade Dick’s apartment in Blüdhaven and find blackmail material.
Because clearly this was Dick’s fault somehow. Or at least Jason decided it was. Second oldest child logic is not bound by earthly laws.
Dick’s apartment window was locked.
Cute.
Jason picked it in six seconds and stepped inside like he owned the lease.
The place was exactly what he expected: clean but messy in the way someone with ADHD tries their best. Blankets everywhere. Water bottles half-finished. A stack of police reports. Plants that are either thriving or dead, no in-between.
And Wally’s stuff scattered around like a bright-red breadcrumb trail.
Jason muttered, “Jesus, Grayson. How many hoodies does your boyfriend own?”
Haley, the three-legged angel, hobbled out of Dick’s bedroom and sniffed at him suspiciously.
Jason crouched. “Hey, princess.”
Haley recognized him instantly and started wagging her tail so hard she almost fell over.
He picked her up and smothered her in kisses. “You’re the only good thing in this city.”
Then he started snooping.
“Alright, Dickiebird… what secrets you got?”
He rifled through drawers. Chaotic. Clothes, receipts, police gear-
Then he hit the jackpot.
A drawer full of stuff.
Adult stuff.
Jason stared.
“…Damn, Dick.”
He opened another drawer.
Wally’s things. Shirts, hair gel, positively incriminating photos of the two of them being disgustingly cute.
Jason blinked. “Oh my god. You two are sickening.”
Haley barked once, like she agreed.
Jason kept digging.
He found more adult things.
“…Bro.”
He set them down and wiped his hands on his pants like the drawer might’ve contaminated him.
“That’s it. I’m never letting him lecture me about safe house cleanliness again.”
Jason was flipping through a very suspiciously well-read romance novel Dick owned when the apartment door unlocked.
He froze.
Dick walked inside.
He looked… destroyed. The kind of sleep-deprived that made his soul leave his body two hours ago. His hair was a disaster. His uniform shirt was half unbuttoned. He had coffee on his pants.
He saw Jason.
He stared.
Jason waved.
Dick shut the door again.
Locked it.
Then he pulled out his phone, and called somebody.
Jason could hear him through the door.
“Bruce. Hi. Come get your son. Now.”
Jason shouted, “I’m not going back!”
Dick shouted louder, “THEN I’M ARRESTING YOU!”
Jason yelled, “YOU WOULDN’T DARE.”
Dick poked his head back inside, face blank with sheer exhaustion. “Try me. I haven’t slept since Tuesday. I will cuff you so fast your resurrection won’t catch up.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”
Dick hung up and came back inside fully, tossing his keys on the counter.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.
Jason shrugged. “Revenge.”
“For WHAT?”
“For ratting us out to Bruce!”
“I didn’t rat you out! I sent him a warning text so he wouldn’t die of shock!”
“Same thing.”
Dick rubbed his eyes. “Jason. Leave.”
“Nope.”
“You broke in.”
“Your window lock sucks.”
“I upgraded it last month.”
“Still sucks.”
Dick threw his hands up. “Unbelievable. I’m so tired. Jason, get out, or-”
Jason interrupted, smirking. “Nah, I’m good. Also, you have some… interesting stuff.”
Dick paused.
“…what stuff.”
Jason pointed to the open drawer.
Dick’s soul left his body.
“YOU WENT THROUGH MY NIGHTSTAND?!”
Jason grinned. “Dude. You’re into some wild stuff for a cop.”
“That is PRIVATE.”
“And the Wally stuff too? You two are basically married.”
“STOP TOUCHING MY PERSONA-”
Jason held up one particular item with two fingers. “This one was a surprise, though.”
Dick made a noise that was half scream, half sob.
“PUT THAT DOWN.”
Jason set it down delicately. “…It vibrates, doesn’t it?”
“JASON PETER TODD I SWEAR-”
Haley barked excitedly, thinking this was a game.
Jason leaned against the counter, smug as hell. “Well, well, well. Look who has skeletons in the closet.”
“They weren’t IN the closet!”
“They should be.”
Dick grabbed a couch cushion and threw it. Jason dodged easily.
Then Dick glared, hands shaking from rage and sleep deprivation. “Bruce better get here in five minutes, or I’m dragging you to the jail myself.”
Jason smirked. “Try me, Officer Grayson.”
Dick stepped closer. “Say that again.”
Jason took a step back. “…Okay maybe don’t try me.”
Haley barked again.
Dick pointed at the door. “Sit. Stay. Quiet.”
Jason sat on the couch.
“Not because you told me to,” he said. “Because I want to.”
“No you don’t,” Dick muttered. “Shut up.”
Jason shrugged. “Fine. But when Bruce gets here, I’m telling him about your-”
“Finish that sentence, and I swear to god I’ll tell him about your stash in your Gotham safehouse.”
Jason’s face fell. “…you wouldn’t.”
“I WOULD.”
“…you found that?”
Dick stared at him with dead eyes. “Jason. I know everything. I’m your older brother.”
Jason slumped. “I hate this family.”
Dick slumped too. “Same.”
Haley climbed into Dick’s lap and licked his face. Dick sighed and leaned his head back against the couch.
They sat in silence.
Jason muttered, “You really need to hide your kinky crap better.”
Dick threw another pillow at him.