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1) Dick and Jason:
“I’m telling you, Dickie, it’s a terrible idea.” Jason says without even looking up from his book.
“I know, but it’s got to happen eventually, Jay. We can’t put it off forever.” Dick says, sighing and flopping down onto the couch next to Jason.
“We could try? You know what? We could bet on it, see how long it takes them to work it out. Winner gets a blowjob and the loser has to wear whatever the winner wants.” Jason grins and looks up from his copy of The Three Musketeers, finally.
“You just want me in the green panties again. But you’re setting yourself up for failure,” Dick teases, “Also stop trying to distract me. It’s a terrible idea, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
“The title of your sex tape!” Jason teases, smirking dirtily at Dick, who only rolls his eyes in response, before continuing, “Admit it, I nearly did distract you. It’s not my fault you look so good in the panties. I’m not gonna stop you from telling them, I just think it’s going to be a huge shitshow we don’t need to go through.”
“Actually Jason, I think it might go a bit better if I tell them by myself. It’s not that I don’t want you there, and thank you so much for offering, but I think everyone will be ...calmer? If- if I go alone.” Dick says, feeling guilty and hoping that Jason won’t be offended.
“Oh god, really? Thank you, yes, I do not want to be there for that dinner conversation. I’m pretty sure Bruce will maim me with the pork chops and then the Demon-spawn will finish me off with the mashed potatoes while I’m vulnerable. Me not being there? Great plan, let’s go with that.” Jason says relief evident in both his voice and the relaxation of his shoulders that have been tense since the beginning of this conversation.
“You... You’re okay with that?” Dick’s surprised; he really thought Jason would be upset at being left out.
“Fuck yes, Dickiebird. Although feel free to call me for an emergency evac if it all goes down the shitter.” Jason leans over and drops a quick kiss on Dick’s cheek. Dick smiles, glad that they’ve settled that.
“So how’s your book? Have you assigned the characters to everyone we know yet? I still maintain that your Pride and Prejudice cast is wrong.” Dick doesn’t really think Jason’s got it wrong, but it’s amusing to watch him get huffy and riled up whenever it comes to classic literature.
“Dick, just accept that you’re Jane Bennet and live with it. I want to be Darcy, but I accept I’m Lizzie,” Jason grumbles, “I’ve got half the cast for the Musketeers, if you really wanna know.”
“Tell me, tell me! Pleeeaaase!” Dick fake pouts and adds extra childish whine in his voice. Jason just gives him a flat look in response. They wait each other out, but Jason gives in first with a hefty sigh.
“Bruce is Athos, no fucking question. You’re Aramis, although if you get the Queen of France pregnant while we’re together, I will end you. I guess I’m Porthos? I feel like we have a lot in common, anyway. Drake’s blatantly D’Artagnan, which makes Stephanie Constance by default,” Jason tells him, “Alfred is Treville, because who else do we know that is that competent but not in the field? I kinda want to say Selina is Milady de Winter. I haven’t decided who Barbara and Cassandra are yet. I need to think about it more.”
“Ooooh, I’m Aramis? I like it. I can see you as Porthos. I actually don’t disagree with any of those,” Dick grins enthusiastically, “But I think Babs is Queen Anne and Cass is Grimaud.”
“Huh, I can see those. Nice call, Goldie.” Jason says. Dick snuggles up Jason, a fond smile on his face.
“I’ve got thirty minutes before I need to go. Wanna read to me until I have to go?” Dick asks.
“Ugh, fine you don’t ask much. You’re lucky you’re pretty, yanno?” Jason grumbles, before flipping back a few pages of his book to the beginning of the chapter and smoothly reading out, “On the morrow, nothing was talked of in Paris but the ball which the aldermen of the city were to give to the king and queen, and in which their Majesties were to dance the famous La Merlaison - the favourite ballet of the king.”
***
2) Dick and Bruce:
Bruce is probably going to be the worst out of all of them, which is why Dick chooses to go to him first. He’d spoken to Alfred when he’d first arrived, asking where everyone was, and Alfred had told him that for once, Bruce was not in the cave, but in his study. Dick had mimed keeling over in shock at that, and Alfred had swiped at him with a tea towel playfully before shooing him off.
Dick stares at the closed study door trying to calm his nerves before knocking. He breathes deeply, using the 4,6,8 method and tells himself that if he can throw himself off of tall buildings before shooting off his grapple, then a fraught conversation with his father should be nothing. (Of course a fraught conversation with Bruce is scarier than base jumping without a parachute.) Dick raises his hand to knock, but before he makes contact with the dark wood of the door, Bruce is calling out
“Come in, Dick.” Well, there goes his last chance to back out. Dick sighs, and opens the door, entering the study. He always feels that visiting Bruce in here is like being called into the principal’s office at high school. Mildly terrifying, even when you’re not in trouble. Dick sits in the chair opposite Bruce and tries not to fidget too much. He ends up drumming the fingers of both hands on his thighs anyway.
“Hey, Bruce. How’s it going? Arrest any interesting criminals lately?” Dick’s babbling nervously. He’s supposed to be a put-together fully functioning adult by this point in his life, right? It’d be nice if he could be just that for this conversation.
“Hello, Dick. It’s going fine. We returned Dent to Arkham last night, which you already know as you were there.” Bruce says dryly, but with that gleam in his eye that means he’s messing with Dick.
“Well, it could have been my evil twin from an alternate universe! In fact, I could be the evil twin right now, and you wouldn’t even know,” Dick can’t stop himself from playing along. He’s physically incapable of not returning banter when the opportunity presents itself. It’s a flaw, he knows.
“You aren’t. Alfred would have taken you down in the entrance hall if you were. He’s good like that. So... what brings you by today?” Bruce doesn’t quite smile, but Dick’s sure he’s not imagining the upturn of the corners of Bruce’s mouth. Dick takes another deep breath, feeling a little calmer, (did Bruce joke with him deliberately to help him relax? God, it’s just like old times) and decides the best way to deal with it is to just bluntly tell Bruce the truth.
“I’ve got something to tell you. I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like it. I think it’s best if I don’t sugar coat it, so here goes,” Dick bites his lip and then takes another quick breath, making his hands into fists to stop him from gripping at his jeans, “I’m dating Jason. We’ve been together a couple of months, now. I think that maybe we might actually last as a couple. I love him and he loves me. I know there are a lot of issues and you are going to take this badly, but we’re good together, Bruce. We make each other happy and that’s something worth fighting for. Even if you don’t approve.”
Bruce doesn’t say anything. Dick can almost see the metaphorical shutters come down in his eyes, as his mind works a mile a minute, trying to process Dick’s announcement. Dick waits; getting tenser and tenser the longer Bruce says nothing. Bruce is staring off into the distance, jaw working minutely as if testing out the words he wants to say and discarding them before he actually vocalises them. The rest of him is stock still, barely even breathing as long as he’s in total shutdown mode. Dick realises that Bruce hadn’t known. He wouldn’t be reacting this badly if he’d had any idea they were together. One part of Dick knows that Jason will get a sadistic kick out of blindsiding Bruce like this, but the rest of Dick is worried and unhappy that he’s managed to really shock Bruce.
The silence drags on, Bruce sitting there like a statue while Dick desperately tries to think of something to say that’ll jolt Bruce out of his closed off state. Even yelling would be preferable to this total lack of reaction. It’s a testament to how underprepared Dick was for this that the only thing he can think of is to plead with him.
“Bruce, please, say something, anything,” Dick clenches his fists together tighter, feeling his nails bite into his palms, “I realise this is a lot to take in, but please, just say something.”
“Dick... how... how do you justify this?” the way Bruce says it it’s not a question but more of a statement, unwillingly dragged out of him syllable by syllable. He’s not blinking, unmoving. It’s a familiar sight in the cowl, but now, in Bruce’s study, it’s more unnerving than ever. “You’re brothers. My sons. How did this happen? How did you think I would react?”
“I didn’t plan for this to happen. We just started to get closer and then somewhere along the way it changed from hanging out to being something else. I really thought I wanted him to be my brother, Bruce. But asking Jason to pretend to be my brother when he doesn’t want that from me, I would have lost him again, and I couldn’t take that,” Dick inhales quickly, scared that if he pauses too long he’ll stop completely, “and then he kissed me. And I just... I realised I wanted him the same way he wanted me. It... it just grew from there. Into something amazing. Something I didn’t think I’d ever get again.”
“Dick...” Bruce murmurs, the look in his eyes softening.
“I know you can’t be happy about this, but maybe one day you’ll be able to accept us.” Dick says, hoping that he’s getting through Bruce’s armour of stoicism. He forces his hands flat on his thighs, wishing that he could get up and pace, to ease the urge to vibrate right out of his skin.
“Dick. I... I should have seen this between the two of you. I should have known. I’m going to... I’m going to need time to accept this. You may not consider yourselves brothers, but you are both my sons. I love you both.” Bruce stumbles over his words, sincere are they are, and Dick can see how much Bruce means it. Bruce gives Dick a brief flicker of a smile, before staring at the paper work on his desk, and long years of experience means that Dick takes it for the dismissal it is.
“Thanks Bruce. I love you too.” Dick stands, flashing a smile and escaping the confines of Bruce’s study for the closest bathroom before the tears can come. He’s not sure if they’re tears of relief or disappointment. He gives himself a few moments to let them out, calming himself of the welter of mixed up emotions he doesn't want to name, and then washes his face and prepares himself for the next member of his family.
***
3) Dick and Tim:
Alfred had previously told Dick that he can find Tim in his room, so that’s where Dick goes. Tim’s there, hunched over a laptop and franticly typing away. Dick knocks on the frame of the open doorway; last time he walked in unannounced Tim had thrown an empty energy drink can at his head. It hadn’t hurt, despite reopening a small cut that had been there since the previous night’s patrol, but the guilt Tim had felt had been more than enough to make Dick remember to knock to avoid it happening again. Tim swivels his whole body to look at who is disturbing him before grinning at Dick and inviting him in.
“Not interrupting anything I hope?” Dick says, taking in the mess of Tim’s room and comparing it to his own apartment. Jason hates how messy Dick is, they’ve had actual arguments over Dick not picking up after himself; Dick can only imagine the rant that Tim’s room would inspire. He’d show Jason pictures if he was surer that he’d just get the rant about the mess and not an accompanying rant about Tim too. Jason’s got a lot better on his issues with Tim, but sometimes he still regresses to the worryingly angry state that just being reminded that Tim exists can bring on. It’s still a sore spot, no matter how much Jason pretends it isn’t for Dick’s sake. Dick wishes they could all just get along (he’d even bake them a cake!), but he’s experienced enough to realise that only time will help with that, no matter how much he wishes he could hurry them all along.
“Just working on some statistics for WayneTech. I’m grateful for the distraction to be honest.” Tim does look relieved for the break, so the work must be dull. There’s a reason why Dick’s never joined the other family business.
“Got time to talk to big brother then?” Dick smiles and flops down into the spare chair by Tim’s desk.
“Sure, why not. Work or social call?” Tim asks, giving Dick at least seventy per cent of his attention as the laptop beeps an email alert and Tim checks it quickly, rolling his eyes and deleting what looked like an official email from WayneTech Inc. Dick quirks an eyebrow at that. “Oh that, this one guy at WayneTech thinks that if he flirts with me enough I’ll approve his ludicrously over the top budget for a gadget that no one wants or needs. Apparently a lot of accounting is actually just politics. Who knew?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t. And this is a social call. Sort of. Ugh, I’ve had this conversation twice already, you’d think I’d know how to start it by now,” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, “ok, so as you guessed last time we talked I do have someone new in my life. Well, not exactly new, but the relationship’s new even if I’ve known them for a long time. Ah, that is I’m dating them. Officially, now. Bruce knows and this is me officially telling you. So...”
“You and Jason are making it official? Wow. How did Bruce take that?” Tim jumps in at the first pause Dick takes, eyes sympathetic but subdued.
“About as well as Bruce takes anything. Wait, how did you know it was Jason? We’ve been really careful!” Dick protests. They had been careful, Jason had insisted. Jason was actually a little too paranoid in Dick’s opinion; they could have had a lot of fun otherwise.
“Seriously, Dick? You guys make out on rooftops. You’ve been trending on twitter under hashtag: RedWing and the online cape forums for weeks. That was you guys being careful? I’m genuinely worried what you guys think not being careful looks like.” Tim says, eyebrows reaching for his hairline with just how incredulous he is. To prove Tim’s point he clicks around on his laptop for a minute until he’s brought up one of the superhero sightings websites and opened a forum with a sub-thread titled ‘Red Hood & Nightwing: BatCat 2.0 or not?’ Dick scans down the comments, progressively getting more embarrassed until Tim takes pity on him and closes the website down. “That was one of the more safe for work ones, too. I’m not showing you the not safe for work ones. But maybe it might be a good idea if you uh, don’t strip off on rooftops so much? You don’t want to know how many ‘Do the butts match?’ threads that Barbara’s deleted. Oh and she wants to know how come Jason never strips off? Something about equal representation... Then she started telling me about the photoshopped pictures. I had to stop listening at that point for my own sanity.”
“Wait, RedWing’s me and Jay, and not a new superhero? Wow, I am so out of the loop. I... photoshop... what? Oh god. Barbara knows? Oh god, Jason’s going to kill me,” Dick wants to flail so badly, but he’s worried that he’ll upset the stacks of paper Tim has precariously piled on his desk, so he forces himself to keep his arms still, “why are you taking this so well? I thought you’d be more upset. I mean, things didn’t exactly go well the last time you and Jason met.” Seriously, how is Tim taking this so well? Jason beat him into a bloody near pulp. Shouldn’t he be upset with Dick for dating the man that did that to him?
“Well, at first I was ...concerned. I thought he might be coercing you into seeing him, maybe? I tried to work out what he might have over you. But after watching the two of you together, I realised that you both do actually care for each other. As incredibly weird as that is. I mean, looking back you never really called him your brother, but you acted like it enough that I thought that was how you saw him.” Tim says.
“Tim, did you stalk us? How did I not notice that?” Dick’s more annoyed with himself for not noticing Tim following them than at Tim for following them. When did his little brother get so skilled?
“Only for a week or two. I didn’t want to see too much, y’know. There are some things I don’t need to know.” Tim protests, flushing a dull red at the implication that he thinks Jason and Dick might have actually had sex on a rooftop. They haven’t. Jason refuses. Says he has standards, fuck you very much.
“We don’t have sex on rooftops! And we are never mentioning this again,” Dick blurts out, desperately wishing rooftops had never come up, “why aren’t you mad at me for seeing him? He hurt you pretty bad, little brother.”
“I can’t say I’m totally over that, Dick. I’m not going to be best friends with him any time soon, but I’ve mostly forgiven him for attacking me. I get why he did it. I don’t agree with him on, well, a lot, really. But despite all that, it’s obvious how much he cares about you. Anyone can see it when the two of you are together.” Tim says.
“I don’t think I’d be as forgiving in your place. I’d be so angry with me,” Dick flicks his gaze from Tim’s face to his hands, a creeping sense of shame growing in his gut, “you always surprise me, Tim.”
“I try to look at all the angles, Dick. Forgetting what he did to me and tried to do to Bruce, the results since he came back, well, the second time at least, pretty much speak for themselves. Jason’s been less violent, the amount of deaths attributable to him are at least sixty per cent down on the last time he was in Gotham,” Tim reaches out to rest his hand on Dick’s wrist, comforting him. Shouldn’t Dick be trying to do that for Tim? “he’s not changed, exactly, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to be better, even if he does still kill.”
“That’s true. I’m just surprised that’s enough for you to be ok with us being together. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m relieved and glad you are!” Dick says, squeezing back on Tim’s hand, “I was just expecting more resistance to me and Jason being together. I’m kind of thrown for a loop that no one’s yelled at me yet.”
“I’m happy that you’ve found someone. As long as Jason treats you well and you’re happy, I don’t have a problem with you two being together. I just don’t want to be left alone with him.” Tim says. Dick can’t really argue with that. He’s pretty sure Jason feels the same way. Dick leans over and hugs the stuffing out of Tim.
“Thanks, little brother, no, really, thank you,” Dick says, slightly breathless at the squeeze Tim is giving him in return, “nothing you’re not comfortable with, I promise,” Dick pats Tim’s back, releasing him from the hug. “I need to go now, but we’ll catch up properly this weekend, ok?
“I’m looking forward to it. Night, Dick.” Tim says absently, turning back to his computer and getting back to work as Dick heads down the hall.
***
4) Dick and Cass:
Next up is Cass. Dick finds her in the first floor parlour that’s been turned into a dance studio for her. She’s stretching at the fixed barre, forehead not quite touching the mirrored wall. He stands in the doorway, watching fondly. He’s a little proud that his gift of ballet lessons has given her such lasting happiness. Cass smiles widely at him when she leans up out of her stretch. She spins around and waves him over.
As he walks over, Cass’ brows draw together unhappily. She leans up and hugs him once he reaches her. Dick smiles, but if feels uneasy on his face. Cass has never liked ‘filler’ in conversations, so Dick cuts out all the build up he’d needed with Bruce and Tim and goes straight to the heart of the matter.
“Hey Cass, just wanted to tell you that Jason and I are in love and dating. I hope you’re okay with that. I love you, little sister.” Dick wants to sound happy, but he’s worried. Even though he walked away from both Bruce and Tim with mostly positive results, he’s disheartened and subdued.
“Dick, Jason loves you, he makes you happy. You love him and you make him happy too. I love you both. I’m happy for you both. So, dance with me?” Cass says, sure and confident. She radiates acceptance and love and Dick wants to cry a little with how simple and easy that was. He hadn’t realised how much he’d needed it. They’ve always communicated better through their bodies and this time is no different. The dance will be a conversation that says everything they both need it to without words getting in the way. Reassurance, affection, acceptance and hope all expressed through motion together.
They put on some instrumental music and dance together, Cass happily pirouetting, jeté-ing and plié-ing around him. Dick does a few pirouettes himself before helping Cass with the lifts, a few en pointe arabesque penchés, and eventually they finish off with a fish dive.
They’re both a little sweaty by the time they’re done, breathing hard but happy with the simple pleasure of movement for movement’s sake. Cass kisses on the cheek and wanders off for a shower before she suits up for patrol.
***
5) Dick and Damian:
Damian’s the last of the family Dick needs to speak to and he finds him in his bedroom. Dick knocks on the door and awaits his littlest brother’s permission to enter. Titus is lying at his master’s feet while Damian works on a charcoal sketch at his easel by the window. After a few long moments, Damian sighs gustily and waves Dick into his room. Dick decides to perch on the end of Damian’s bed rather than stand at his shoulder and catch a rare look at Damian’s closely guarded art.
“Are you not patrolling tonight, Grayson? Shouldn’t you be preparing rather than bothering me?” Damian says, breaking the silence.
“I am, but I wanted to talk to you first, Damian. I’ve already had this conversation four times today; you’d think I’d know exactly what to say,” Dick shifts uncomfortable on Damian’s surprisingly hard bed, “It’s about me and Jason. I, uh, well. We’re dating. In love. Really happy together. So we thought it was time we told everyone. Sorry for not telling you sooner, but we wanted to keep it to ourselves until we were sure it would last.”
“Tt. I am aware of your ill-considered dalliance with Todd, Grayson. Was it supposed to be a secret? If so you did a very bad job of keeping it that way.” Damian frowns, focusing on smudging at the charcoal in front of him, “I’m uncertain why you feel the need to tell me about this. I’m utterly uninterested in your ...romantic endeavours, and indeed, who you have them with.”
“I guess I didn’t think you’d be interested, more that you deserved to be kept in the know?” Dick keeps his attention on Damian’s body language, not that he’s really getting much from it. Damian’s closed off right now, either because he’s genuinely not interested in the conversation or because he’s working on his art, Dick can’t tell. “I suppose I thought you might have an opinion on it. You’re usually not short of those about Jason.”
“I will admit, I thought you had better taste and were only interested in redheads. And Todd is a strange choice, given how often you claim a sibling relationship with him. At the very least he’s a step up from Drake, so it could be worse.” Damian says slowly, the usual look on his face like he’s sucked a lemon appearing when talking about Tim.
“Damian.” Dick chides softly. Sooner or later Dick will break Damian from the habit of constantly putting Tim down, but he really can’t handle that right now.
“Todd is a lunatic and an embarrassment and I’d rather you broke it off with him immediately. But you will do what you want, Grayson. Just don’t tell me about it, I do not want to know,” Damian pauses to put down his charcoal and blow gently on the paper, “Now if there’s nothing we actually need to talk about, I am busy and wish to be left to my work.”
It’s a dismissal if ever Dick’s heard one, and he’s heard a lot in this house. He doesn’t actually have anything else to say to Damian, so he takes the cue to leave and simply tells Damian “Night, Little D.” and heads down to the cave to get suited up for patrol with Cass.
He does hear a soft ‘Goodnight, Grayson’ float down the hallway after him, so he considers the conversation a success.
***
+1) Jason and Damian:
Jason has only just sat down on the couch after a much needed post-patrol shower (he hates the sewers, he really fucking hates those fucking sewers) when the living room window creaks open and the newest wearer of the Robin mantle but not the scaly panties (the lucky little shit) creeps in, katana in hand. Jason takes a second to remind himself that he may well only be in boxers and a t-shirt with only a towel to hand for a weapon, but that in no way means he’s vulnerable, even against a katana.
They have a stare-off for a few seconds before Jason rolls his eyes and waves at the nearest-to-Damian armchair in invitation. The brat knows that Dick isn’t here, so he’s come to threaten Jason while the coast is clear.
“This is usually when I’d offer visitors a cup of tea, but you weren’t invited, so you get nothing. Why you here, batbrat?” Jason says, drawling out the words in an overly bored tone. He’s on his home turf, he’s not gonna give the kid any advantages if he can help it.
Damian has edged over to the armchair that Jason had just gestured to, but he’s still standing, scowling at Jason but with the katana pointing down. He doesn’t appear to be about to go on the defensive, but Jason’s seen him fight with it, he knows just how quick Damian can be when he chooses.
“I want to know who Grayson is to you, you pathetic, third-rate excuse for a crimelord! I already know your intentions are false. You will tell me if he is your Mercédès or Albert Morcerf, since you are clearly Edmond Dantes!” Damian demands stiffly, working himself up angrily until he’s nearly spitting the last words at Jason. Jason can only blink in response. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Talia would choose the Count of Monte Cristo to be part of Damian’s education. Come to think of it, she’d probably use it more as a manual for how to enact revenge on your enemies than for entertainment. He is a little surprised that Damian’s comparing him to Dantes though. Has Dick been casting people as fictional characters around the kid and not telling Jason? Rude. He doesn’t want to share a hobby with Damian, in fact he wants as little in common with the demon-spawn as possible. “Answer me, Todd!”
“Really, kid? Your dad needs to work on your interrogation technique. I’m not fucking Dantes, and even if I was, Dickie is not Mercédès, and he’s definitely not Albert either. If he’s anyone, which he’s not, I’d want him to be Haydée. So why don’t you take your tiny murderous self home and leave me be.” Jason sighs, he’s been done with this shovel talk since before it started. All he wanted was to watch half an hour of trash TV before bed, but no, he has to deal with Bruce’s youngest.
“You returned from the dead, went on a spree of taking over the entire city and you think you’re not trying to be Dantes? I always you took you for a fool, Todd, but this is just disappointing,” Damian continues, with no intentions of leaving, “either way, if you hurt him I will break you slowly until you beg for death.”
“Been there, done that, brat. But it’s real sweet of you to think I’m that competent. Things woulda gone a lot different if I were half as good as Monte Cristo. I mean the dude not only got his revenge, he got away with it and got a damn happy ending. Success in all areas. Me? I tried, and all I got for my trouble was another goddamn scar,” Jason emphasises his point by tracing a finger along the scar on his neck, narrowing his eyes at Damian as he does, “courtesy of your dear old dad, by the way. Watch out for those batarangs, kiddo, they’re killer.” Jason waits for Damian to take the bait from that (what is his life that he’s trying to lure a ten year old into a yelling match?) or flounce out the window. Either option is fine by him.
“Father would never. He specifically told me to never aim for the throat as it’s too likely to kill. Your lies are as pathetic as you literary critique, Todd!” Damian takes the bait, so easily Jason could almost laugh. He would if the memories of how he got that scar weren’t so soul destroying.
“Oh yeah, he gave me the same speech years ago. Funny how he ended up doing it anyway, rather than put the monster who killed me in the ground. Really showed his fatherly love there, huh?” Jason doesn’t bother to keep the bitterness out of his voice. It’s partly directed at himself for even bringing this up with Damian, the kid doesn’t need to know Jason’s issues, but Damian will never tell anyone, because that would mean admitting to talking to Jason of his own free will. So telling him is freeing in a way. It’s the first time Jason’s admitted what happened to anyone. It’s the one thing that he can never really forgive Bruce for. Bruce not saving him was always a non-issue. Jason’s even worked through understanding why Bruce can’t kill the Joker. He’s working on a civil and professional work relationship with Bruce, but there will always be that first-instant-at-seeing-him reaction now where a quiet piercing voice in his head will say ‘You killed me!’, Jason doubts that’ll ever go away.
“You are a liar. Father should give up on you! Grayson will come to his senses sooner or later and we will all leave you to rot.” Damian tries to inject as much ice into the statement as he can, but Jason can hear the slight waver of doubt threading through his voice. Damian turns on his heel and heads over to the window, thinking he’s had the last word.
“I wish he would. I mean, the moment he slit my throat is when I gave up on Bruce,” Jason bites out, “but Dick? Dick’s not like that. He might come to his senses, but he doesn’t give up on people. Not me and certainly not you,” Jason watches Damian flinch at that. Confirmation that it’s the real reason he came over to threaten Jason. He’s worried he’ll lose his older brother, although Jason thinks that not even death could make Dick leave the kid. “You’re gonna have to learn to live with that just like the rest of us, Damian.” Jason says, sure in that fact, if nothing else. He watches Damian crawl out the window and shoot a line out into the dark of the night. Jason thumps his head back into the couch, staring at the ceiling and letting the numbness he feels creep over him. He’s not sure how long he sits there, staring at nothing. When his phone beeps, he checks it automatically, seeing the notification of a text from Dick.
Evrythng wnt as well as expctd. Rlly wnna c u 2moro, lil wing! I <3 u so mch x
Despite himself, the corners of Jason’s mouth turn up in a fond smile. It’s just a text, but even just that from Dick improves his day. He’s so in love it hurts.