Chapter Text
It’s becoming obvious. The irritability, the constant scowl, the impatience. Hindsight is 20/20, and apparently Jason’s fucking blind as a bat. Literally.
It’s even worse than he'd originally thought.
“Negative six.” Bruce repeats what the optometrist said, with a note of caution in his voice. “What, how is this possible?”
The doctor turns his screen toward Bruce and Jason. His son is already scowling at it; all this time, Jason’s signature scowl wasn’t born from a deep hatred for anyone in particular, but from his inability to make out anything more than two feet in front of him.
It boggles Bruce’s mind for so many reasons, one being that Jason is probably one of, if not the, best shot he knows. The fact that Jason has been seeing everything as a hazy blur this whole time? How on earth did his son pull off any of his missions at all?
“Well, Jason has the most common cause for myopia, elongated eyeballs. It could also be genetic, passed down from either parent, or a recessive trait from an ancestor.” The doctor emphasizes his point by tapping the scan of Jason’s eyes with a pen. Then Dr. Francis turns to them both, curious. “Do you often stay indoors, son? Sometimes a lack of natural light can worsen vision impairment. Or perhaps you spend a lot of time looking at screens?”
Bruce glances sideways, and sure enough, there’s that scowl again. But beyond the expression, there’s no other sign Jason is angry or annoyed. He’s just… looking. “I… work remotely. I don’t usually go out unless I have to. And…” Jason coughs awkwardly into his hand. “I do use computers a lot.”
Now that Bruce thinks about it, Jason does spend far more time at the Batcomputer than anyone else. More often than not, he’d find his son frowning hard at the screens. Goodness, how did they miss this?
Dr. Francis hums, nodding as he jots down notes. “Aside from myopia, you also have astigmatism, two degrees. Does your family have any history of eye problems?”
Jason stays quiet for a moment, then nods reluctantly. Bruce frowns. He never knew any of Jason’s relatives had vision issues.
The doctor starts explaining possible treatments, plus the need for long-term, regular check-ups. For now, he suggests getting prescription glasses to help correct Jason’s vision.
“I’d imagine it wasn’t much fun, always having to squint just to see clearly,” Dr. Francis says casually as he uses specialized tools to measure Jason’s eyes for frames.
“I didn’t even notice…” Jason mumbles. His muscles are tight, clearly he’s uncomfortable with someone being this close to his face, but wisely, he stays still. “I just thought this was how everyone saw.”
The doctor laughs at that. For some reason, that simple, almost childish admission makes Bruce smile as he watches the doctor work. It’s rare to see Jason this… agreeable. He’ll admit, he missed this side of his son.
“Oh, that’s more common than you’d think. I had a man come in once, acted like he hated the whole world and everyone in it,” Dr. Francis says, holding up a couple of empty frames to test. “Turns out, he just needed glasses. He couldn’t see a thing without his eyes practically crossing.”
The day ends with Jason wearing his new glasses, and he looks… young again. Bruce knows Jason is only two years older than Tim, even younger than Cassandra, but the way he carries himself always makes him seem older than he really is. Now, with the glasses on, Jason is looking around at everything with the brightest smile Bruce has seen on him in ages.
It’s as if he’s seeing the world for the first time.
Well, Bruce supposes, in a way, he is.
“Holy shit. This is how your eyes work, old man? What the fuck? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Jason says, amazed, still turning this way and that to stare at random spots along the street. “Holy shit— I can actually see people’s faces from this far away. Are you kidding me?”
That brings Bruce back to the thought that’s been nagging at him all day. “How did you manage your… night work, Jason? If you couldn’t see anything beyond two feet in front of you?”
Jason shrugs. “Mostly I memorized voices and patterns. I knew it was you from far away not because I could see your face, but from how you move, how you sound, your clothes, even that stupid gold watch you wear. But now? I can actually see you clearly, and— holy fuck… why do you have so many wrinkles?”
Bruce sighs, closing his eyes and massaging the tension at his temple. “You risked your life every single night just by memorizing patterns and voices. Jason. Why.”
…
Dick was in the living room scrolling through social media when he heard the front door open. He looked up, ready to tease Jason about taking forever with whatever errand Bruce had dragged him to, but the words died in his throat.
Jason walked in, and the first thing Dick noticed was the thick, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. They suited him, weirdly enough — made him look less like a brooding vigilante and more like the kid Dick still remembered, buried underneath all the anger and armor.
“Whoa,” Dick said, grinning as he set his phone down. “Since when do you wear glasses? Did Bruce force you to get some? You look—”
He stopped when Jason turned his head. His eyes were wide behind the lenses, scanning the room like he was noticing every single detail for the very first time. He looked completely captivated by everything around him. Dick’s frown deepened, and worry started to take root in his chest. He glanced over at Bruce, standing beside Jason, only to find their father smiling softly at the way his son was looking at the world around him.
“Everything’s… sharp,” Jason muttered, almost to himself. He stepped further inside, tilting his head up toward the ceiling light, then down to the rug beneath his boots. “Holy shit. I didn’t know the patterns here were this detailed.”
Dick stood up, frowning a little as he walked closer. “Jay? You okay?”
Jason looked at him, and for a second Dick almost flinched, because Jason wasn’t frowning, or wearing his signature scowl. He wasn’t narrowing his eyes like he always did, like he was constantly trying to force the world into focus. He was just… neutral. Relaxed.
“Okay?” Jason echoed, and there was absolutely no bite in his voice. It threw Dick off so badly he actually took a small step back. “Dick, I can see your face. Like, really see it. From all the way over here. This is fucking amazing!”
“What the heck are you—”
Something clicked in Dick’s head. A memory hit him fast and hard, every single time Jason had snapped at him for standing too close, or gotten annoyed when Dick called out to him from across the room, or scowled so hard his eyebrows almost met whenever someone handed him a document or a map to read.
“Wait—”
“Woah! Look at that!” Jason exclaimed from where he stood, pointing straight up at the chandelier. “Damn, that's actually… wow, there’s no trail or blur around the lights. That’s… new.”
“You…”
Dick’s mind was flooding with memories, all those confusing, unexplained interactions with Jason that so often ended with him shouting or storming off. Like that one time they were supposed to stick together during a stakeout. Jason had gotten lost, and Dick had been so confused back then. Jason was literally right behind him, until he stepped into a shadow, and then… he’d just turned the wrong way. Dick had thought he was being stubborn or difficult. But now, now the answer was staring him right in the face.
“You were fucking blind?!”
…
A few days after Jason got his glasses, it became obvious just how right Bruce’s decision to take him for that optometrist appointment had been. It changed everything for his son, and for their whole family dynamic.
Now, Jason was far less likely to snap at anyone, or even at suspects during interrogations. He was noticeably more patient during stakeouts and missions, too. He even started volunteering for longer surveillance shifts, just so he could sit and stare out over downtown Gotham. Before, Jason had never been able to enjoy the view; everything was too bright, and car headlights would make his eyes ache so bad he could barely focus.
But now, with no more blurriness or streaks trailing from every light source, and with the ability to see clearly into the distance, surveillance had actually become something he looked forward to.