Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

THEN

The sun rests high up above. Bruce is talking too quickly, each word spoken with agitation. Jason isn’t listening. He should be, but he’s not. He’s standing in his civilian clothes, watching the clouds drift by. He’s thinking of his mother, and the years that were robbed from them. And what could’ve- should’ve been.

“Jason!” Bruce snaps.

Jason blinks awake. Bruce is standing next to the helicopter now, grabbing his shoulder. He’s more panicked than Jason has ever seen him- and for good reason, too. Jason’s decision has already been made.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah,” Jason says, swaying a little. “Stay here and keep an eye on that warehouse. Until you return. Take no action. Until you return.”

“I want you to promise,” Bruce says. It’s strange seeing so much emotion under the cowl. Usually, Bruce keeps it in check. But he’s erratic now. His feelings shining through. Because this time he knows that they have to. “Promise me, Jason.”

“Alright,” Jason says, vacantly. “I promise.”

“Joker’s too dangerous for you to handle alone,” Bruce says. He tightens his grip on Jason’s shoulders. “You’re in danger every second we stay here. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jason says. “I do.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. And then we’ll save her, Jay,” Bruce draws Jason close to him. Jason feels as though he’s on another planet. Torn. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Jason says. His voice breaks.

Bruce steps away and studies him for a moment. And then he nods, stepping into the mini-copter, his cape trembling in the breeze. Jason watches him leave. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then he turns and walks in the opposite direction.

NOW

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Jason’s standing on top of a roof. A criminal clad in purple and green is in front of him. He has a neon green magician’s hat on, and a belt that has an alarmingly large clock on attached to it. He’s currently desperately trying to assemble a bomb. Or, at least, something that looks like a bomb. It quite honestly looks more like a snowglobe than anything else.

“Honestly,” Jason says, slowly walking forwards. “I don’t.”

“Stay back!” The criminal yells.

“Or what?”

“Or- or-” The criminal starts to panic. “You will face the wrath of the Time-Twizzler!”

“The Time-Twizzler?” Jason laughs. “Seriously?”

The Time-Twizzler continues to fiddle...or twizzle...with the orb in his hand. It’s glowing purple and green now...which might’ve been intimidating... if it didn’t look like a budget disco ball.

“You look like Zatanna and Riddler had a lovechild,” Jason continues, a hand on his gun. “And not to mention the clock on your crotch. What’s that all about?”

“Stay back!” The Time-Twizzler wails. “Your doom is nigh!”

“Really?” Jason rolls his eyes. He knows Time-Twizzler can’t see it, because of the helmet and all, but it still needs to be done. He takes a few steps forward, his hand moving to his gun. “Because I’d say your doom is pretty nigh too, buddy.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong!” The Time-Twizzler insists. His voice is heightening rapidly in pitch.

“Hmm. Let me see,” Jason counts on his fingers. “Arson. Assault. Kidnapping. Not to mention the fact that some of the people you’ve provided wares to...use those wares to hurt children. So yeah. I’d say you’ve done a lot wrong.”

“Do you know how hard it is to make a name for yourself in Gotham?” The Time-Twizzler wails. “I did what I had to! What I needed to survive- in- in order to survive.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason points the gun at Time-Twizzler’s face. “If that’s the case, you should’ve stayed dead.”

“Please!” Time-Twizzler cowers in fear, his whole body trembling. “Show mercy?”

“Or what?” Jason says. “You’re going to Twizzle me? Get over here. I’m gonna kick your puny white ass.”

“Never!” The Time-Twizzler turns and runs.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jason asks. He sighs and starts walking after him. “Twizzly. Dude. You’re on a flat roof. There’s nowhere for you to run.”

Time-Twizzler reaches the edge of the roof. His knees are shaking. Jason sighs. He really, really doesn’t get paid enough for this. But when Time-Twizzler turns around, his eyes are unnaturally wide under his purple felt mask, and his hands are splayed wide.

“Ha ha!” He declares. “You have wandered straight into my trap!”

“Your what now?” Jason asks.

A sudden light catches his eye. He looks down, sees that the orb is flashing violently beside his feet. The number five is shimmering inside of it. For fuck’s sake. It looks like a glittery magic 8 Ball. But then it starts to beep, and Jason turns to run. But it’s too late. The orb explodes, and Jason catches a flash of orange- and then nothing.

THEN

Jason lands. Roughly. For a second he thinks he’s dead. He glances up and catches no sight of the Time-Twizzler. That motherfucker.

It’s just as well. Because if he’d been right in front of Jason right now...Jason would’ve thrown him from the fucking roof. He probably broke a couple of Jason’s ribs with that dumb stint. That bomb...or whatever it was. It certainly feels like he broke something. Damn.

He sits up slowly, breathing heavily beneath his helmet. Something feels strange. He can’t pinpoint what. But he’ll focus on that later. Right now...he has to check his injuries. And try to figure out a way to explain this absolute mess to Bruce.

He presses his fingers to his chest, wincing slightly. God...everything hurts so much. And he can’t believe he got taken down by a guy called Time-Twizzler. If it’d been Two-Face, or Penguin, or even Scarecrow...he would’ve taken it. But Time-Twizzler? Really? It’s only two steps up from Condiment King. Or the motherfucking Calendar Man. God...Tim is never going to let him hear the end of this…

Okay. Jason finishes his checks and exhales a sigh. There’s no broken bones. Which is good. But there’s definitely some bruising along his ribs...bruising Leslie is almost definitely scold him to shit over...and not to mention Alfred...

Jason opens his eyes. Sees brown. And then he scowls, because...this isn’t Gotham.

He scrambles to his feet.

There’s trees in the distance. Dirt under his feet. It’s coarse. Dry. From the summer. Jason never managed to forget the smell of it. No matter how hard he tried.

“No,” he says, weakly.

He tears his helmet off and throws it to the ground. He sees the sky above- a perfect, endless blue.

This is the day he died.

The afternoon before, to be exact. Fucking Hell. It looks exactly the same.

What the fuck was in that orb? Fear gas?

“This isn’t happening,” Jason declares. He grabs his gun and holds it up. “Nope. Nope.”

He turns in a circle, his breathing erratic. He...he is going to have a big conversation with Time-Twizzler once he gets home. Or...or wakes up. From whatever dream or illusion this is. Or has to be.

He picks his helmet up, and, just for the Hell of it, pinches himself. It hurts just the same, which isn’t useful. He looks around. Just ahead of him is the door of the warehouse. The warehouse Bruce told him not to go into all those years ago. The warehouse where...where…

Fuck it.

Dream or not, Jason’s going to go in there, Goddamnit, and fill the Joker full of lead. He deserves it. He needs it. And he’s not afraid.

 NOW

“It worked!”

A shrill voice breaks Jason’s sleep. Was he asleep? He doesn’t remember going to sleep. He remembers walking to the warehouse. Planning on saving his mom. Being in his civilian gear...with the Robin suit underneath.

He blinks once, twice. Okay, so he’s on a roof. And it’s raining. He’s in his civilian gear still, at least, so that hasn’t changed. And he doesn’t need to check to know that his Robin suit is underneath. He’d sleep with that thing on if he could. He’d know it in death.

“It worked! I didn’t think it would...but it did!” The voice continues.

Jason looks up. There’s a thin man in purple and green standing in front of him. He’s on the edge of the roof, and he’s wearing bright green gloves.

“...Riddler?” He asks, voice groggy. “...S'at you?”

“What?” The man asks. His face is pale with shock. “No! I’m- I’m Time-Twizzler! I just told you! Or- I just told him. The him that was you. Ah, it’s no matter!”

Jason scowls as the man approaches. He picks up something that looks like a shattered orb and grins.

“It really really worked! You’re just a boy! You can do no harm to me now!”

“What do you mean?” Jason sits up. His heart is thumping. This feels like Gotham. It’s certainly crazy enough to be Gotham. But if he’s in Gotham...where is Bruce? Where is his mom? Where’s everything? “What’s going on?”

“You’re the Red Hood, aren’t you?” The man asks. “Or- you were him. Are going to be him. In five or so years?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jason yells. “I ain’t no Joker!”

“Joker?” The man frowns. “No- I- that’s not you. You’re- him. The other Red Hood. Remember?”

“Get away from me,” Jason stands. His knees are weak. His skull feels like its sinking in his head. “Seriously.”

“So it must affect memory too!” The man says. He follows Jason closely, and starts prodding him. “I wonder...if the body is not the same, perhaps…”

“I said, get the fuck off me!” Jason yells.

He lashes out, and the man falls in an undignified heap at Jason’s feet. His nose is bleeding slightly. Jason stares at him in shock for a moment and squats to check the man’s pulse.

“Please be alive,” he murmurs. “C’mon. You can’t be dead from a punch.” 

There’s a second of nothing, and then, a steady thump emerges under Jason’s fingertips. Okay. He’s alive. Just knocked out. Jason emits a short shaking breath and stands. He didn’t even mean to knock the guy out. And it was stupid to. He’s probably Jason’s only decent lead on what’s going on here. Or was. Then again, he might just be crazy. To say that Jason...Batman’s Goddamn Robin...was the Joker? Or someone the Joker used to be? He has to be crazy.

Jason looks around, forcing himself to think. Okay. The skyline looks like Gotham. But there’s a lot of things wrong with it. There’s a lot of different buildings there, for starters. And a lot of different shapes. Maybe it’s changed since Jason got back from Ethiopia? Maybe the whole thing with his mom was all some strange, twisted dream?

It doesn’t matter. Jason checks the guy is definitely out cold, checks that no-one is looking, and then takes his civilian clothes off. He’s Robin now. He can do anything. And he’s going to be alright.

“Time to find Bruce and get the Hell outta here,” he muses.

He tries his earpiece, but there’s nothing. No frequencies, no waves. And his tracker says there’s no Batmobile to be found, which is weird...but nothing Jason and Bruce haven’t dealt with before. The only difference this time...is that Jason’s on his own. Which is okay. He’s been on his own before. Hell- Dick used to be on his own all of the time when he was Robin. And it’s about time Jason measures up.

“I can do this,” he whispers, casting his grappling hook to a nearby roof.

A plan is already forming in his head- just like Bruce taught him. First, to Wayne Tower, to get his faulty tracker fixed by Lucius. And then...to the Cave. Bruce will be able to fix this. Because there’s nothing Bruce can’t fix.

Chapter Text

THEN

The closer Jason gets to the warehouse, the less like a dream it feels. He’s noticing things about this place now. Remembering them. His dunk in the Lazarus pit made his memories foggy, especially the ones surrounding his death. He only ever tends to remember the warehouse, and his mother, and the crowbar. But now, he’s examining every detail. Memorising the way the ground feels beneath his feet. The breeze, heavy against his face. And the warehouse. Clear as day. Clear as it is in all of his other nightmares. But this? This feels real.

Maybe he’s just soaking it in because he knows he’s going to die. That these next few minutes could be his last on Earth, all over again. Knowing what comes after a barren landscape makes you appreciate it a lot more. Even if there’s not much to see but dirt, trees, and the dust on the horizon.

He remembers coming here the first time. He was in his civilian clothes, with the Robin suit underneath. Wearing it proudly. Like it would save him. Only fourteen years old. Too young to die. But too motherfucking trusting to live. And he’d seen his mother outside, smoking, and that was when he’d told her who he was, and that was when she’d...when she’d...

A sudden rush of doubt takes over Jason. Or maybe it’s just paranoia, from all those years with Bruce. Either way, he zips up his jacket, hiding the bat symbol underneath, and slides his helmet back on. Better safe than sorry. With every passing minute his belief that this is a dream is fading. And if that’s the case...anything could happen when his mother walks out of that door. Jason doesn’t know why, but he knows she will. He’s braced himself for it. It’s something forever ingrained in his mind. Just one more unchangeable constant.

He stands still for a minute or two. Trying hard to regulate his breathing, heartbreak and rage. But before he can, the warehouse door creaks open, and that’s when his stomach really drops.

Because Sheila Haywood is standing there. Scowling. Breathing. Alive.

He expected it, but foreseeing something and actually seeing it are two different things. Especially when Jason woke up this morning getting ready to take down a two-bit villain, and now he’s in Ethiopia again, watching his dead mother try her best to light a cigarette.

His breath catches in his chest. She’s not looking at him; isn’t even close to looking at him. Her pink lips are pursed, and her blonde, curly hair is shimmering in the dying sunlight. Out of all the things he’s tried to remember about Sheila over the years, out of all of the details and words and memories, her hair is comes back to him first. Because her curls were where he’d gotten his from. Not Willis, not Catherine, not Shiva, not nobody. Her.

It sounds so stupid in his head now. But he’d been so desperate to find a connection with her back then, so desperate for her to love him, that he’d fixated on it. He’d thought desperately about what his life would’ve been like with her. What they would’ve done had she not betrayed him to the Joker. How much Bruce could’ve helped her. And fuck, even the thought of having a mom again brings Jason to the brink of tears...

But it doesn’t change the truth. Catherine was his mother in every way that counted. This woman standing in front of him, cigarette in hand, more than prepared to sacrifice a child in order to save her own life...just gave birth to him. Nothing more. And he knows that now.

He sucks in a breath and starts to walk. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do once he reaches her. Just knows that he has to do something. Even if she ignores him completely.

She doesn’t, however. She turns to him once he’s about five steps away, a frown gathering on her face. He is pretty conspicuous, after all. The bright red helmet isn’t doing him any favours, especially in such stark lighting, and he’s got a gun strapped to either one of his thighs. As he approaches, she makes a move for her pocket. He raises a hand.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” he says.

And thanks God for puberty and the voice modifier built in his mask. Not that he had much of a puberty, because, you know...he spent it training under the League of Assassins...but the thought was there.

“Who-” she begins. It’s so strange, so surreal, to be talking to her again. But Jason can’t think of that now. He has to stay focused on the fact that she betrayed him. If he doesn’t, he thinks he’s going to lose his mind.

“Someone with a decent lighter,” he says, throwing her it.

She catches it and stares at him, shocked. He bites down tears and walks towards the warehouse door.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s not poisoned. Not that you can really poison a lighter, but…”

“What do you want with me?”

“Nothing,” Jason says, simply. His heart is thundering beneath his armour. “Well, not really. I want you to run.”

“What?” Sheila asks, stunned.

Jason approaches her, takes the lighter from her hands, and lights her cigarette. Her face remains astonished throughout.

“R-U-N,” he offers. “It’s a simple concept. You put one foot in front of the other, and then…”

Sheila frowns. “Do I know you?”

Jason’s heart stops, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to be sick. He retains just enough of his composure to reply- “No?”

“And you don’t know me?”

“Do I look like I know you?” 

Sheila watches her burning cigarette. Her lips are very taut.

“So if we’re strangers...why should I run? Why should I do anything you say, in fact?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jason shrugs. “Because I’m the guy with the gun?”

“That won’t fly,” Sheila threatens. “I’ve got a whole lot of backup behind me.”

“Oh, you mean that panic button in your left pocket?” Jason tilts his head. “This one?”

He raises his hand. In it is the panic button, as well as the handgun that had been residing in her pocket.

Sheila looks down in shock. What colour there was in her face drains completely. “How-”

“I’ve been pickpocketing since I was five,” Jason offers. “Now. I’m giving you an out here. Run.”

“You’ve got no idea who you’re dealing with.” Sheila says, but she backs away from the door.

Jason gets out his gun and smiles beneath the helmet. “Oh, I think I do. Tall, white pasty fella? Chin too big for his face? Has a penchant for beating kids to death?”

Sheila’s bottom lip trembles. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you’d ever know, Sheila Haywood,” Jason tilts his head. “And do you know what I’m going to do because of what I understand?”

She stares at him, petrified. Jason takes a step forwards, relishing the feeling.

“I’m going to blow his fucking brains out,” Jason says, completely calmly. “And I don’t give a shit if you’re involved in his organisation, or his death is going to expose you, or whatever. This is something I have to do. So you’re either going to get out of my way right now, and run, or you’re going to stay. And you’re either going to die in the crossfire, or he’s going to kill you once he finishes me off. Do you understand?”

Sheila looks horrified. Her cigarette drops from her lips and falls, but Jason catches it before it does, and stamps it out beneath her foot.

“And I’d be careful with these, by the way,” Jason says. “The place’s rigged to death with explosives.”

Sheila slowly starts to step away. Her knees are shaking. Jason knows he’s acting like a maniac right now. But if it freaks her out enough to leave, then so be it. He’s made his bed now. And nothing can be worse than what’s already transpired.

He watches her walk away. And when she turns to look at him, he crosses his arms, and that’s all it takes for her to run.

Jason can’t help but emit a sigh of relief. At least she’s safe for now. Sure, she’s just experienced a first terrifying encounter with the Red Hood, but at least she’s away from the warehouse, and still breathing, still alive…

Fuck! What is Jason doing? He can’t afford to get emotionally involved with all of this shit. It’s not real. He has to tell himself it’s not real. Because if it isn’t, and he wakes up in the morning thinking his mother is still alive...well.

He might as well let the Joker kill him all over again.

NOW

The more Jason ventures through this Gotham, the stranger it feels. He sort of hates it. Since he’s been away, new sorts of signs have been placed everywhere, which makes it hard to grapple, because everything is so bright it’s blinding. Not to mention the air pollution. Jesus! Bruce’s gotta get on that sometime. At this rate, it’s going to take him weeks to get to Wayne Tower. Months, even…

Just as he’s about to give up, Wayne Tower emerges through the smog- a little shinier than Jason remembered it, but that’s no matter. He probably got so used to being away from Gotham that now that he’s back, everything feels different. Yeah, that’ll be it…

He grapples to the roof and onto the secret entrance Bruce has installed. Only he, Jason, Barbara, Alfred and Dick have access to it. Jason scans his fingerprint to get in, but it locks him out. He tries again, and it locks him out again. Huh. Weird. Maybe all of WayneTech is compromised. That would certainly explain the faulty tracker...but what now?

Jason scowls and tries one last time. This time, a bright red message flares on top of the display: ASSISTANCE IS COMING. But what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Jason doesn’t remember that being a thing the last time he was here. And he can’t think of anyone who would be in Gotham right now to assist aside from Bruce, which is a good thing, but if WayneTech is compromised…

Then it could be a trap!

“Shit!” Jason yelps, abruptly grappling away.

He manages to dash to a nearby rooftop and hide behind one of the chimneys atop it. His heart is racing. And he’s internally yelling at himself for being so...damn...stupid…

He hides for a minute before retrieving his binoculars from his belt and studying the top of the tower. And now there’s people on top of it! Wow! Could they have something to do with what’s happening at WayneTech?

There’s a taller one who’s got a weird black mask thing on. And red wings. And next to him is someone with a hood on? It almost looks like a weird, heavy metal version of the Robin suit. And if they’re not imposters...Jason doesn’t know what are.

Well, that’s fine with him. He can deal with phoneys like them. If they think they can take down Batman and Robin, they’re damn wrong. Bruce may be compromised. But he’s not alone. Not now, not ever.

The phoneys check out the fingerprint scanner, shrug to one another, and then glide off into the night.

Jason knows an opportunity when he sees one.

He puts his binoculars away, waits until they’re further away, and then grapples after them. Man, he wishes Bruce was with him right now. He wants an update on what he’s missed. He wants to know what happened to Ethiopia, Sheila, everything. But he can’t find that out if Bruce is in danger. And he certainly can’t do that without his memory back.

The WayneTech phoneys fit into all of this. He’s sure of it. He just doesn’t know how.

Chapter Text

THEN

Jason stands outside of the warehouse for an embarrassingly long time, trying to figure out what to do. In his head, the plan seems so simple. Walk in, guns blazing. Take out every single one of Joker’s henchmen. Then, give the Joker the most painful, drawn out, brutal death. It’s easy, right? And it’s the only thing he wants to do right now.

But there’s issues. So many issues he can’t even begin to process. If this isn’t a dream...which he’s pretty sure it isn’t...he’s in deep shit right now. The amount of times he heard Bruce ramble on about time paradoxes when he was Robin, and the numerous adventures he’d had with the Justice League that had ended badly in relation to time...God. If Jason intervened here there’d be no telling what was going to happen.

Then again, he can’t just be in the same space as the Joker and let him live. He’s armed. He has the means. And knowing what the Joker had planned originally...knowing that he was going to beat Jason to a bloody pulp and then murder him and his mother...it means Jason can’t just walk away. He can’t.

But there’s a part of Jason that’s terrified. On his home turf, in his own time, facing the Joker is one thing. But here, where he’s living his worst nightmare, and the Joker is right there, and Bruce is surely not far behind...there’s so many things that could go wrong. So many different variables flying around. The smart thing would be to wait. To wait for Bruce to come. To bide his time. Or do...something other than put a bullet between Joker’s eyes. And for a good two minutes Jason plans on doing just that. But then he hears a fucking laugh from inside of the warehouse, and what patience he did have inside of him...snaps completely.

“I swear to fucking God,” Jason hisses, as he marches towards the door. “If this is a fucking dream, I swear to God…”

He pries the door open and slips inside. There are crates and crates of explosives lying around. Jason didn’t notice them the first time. But he remembers it all now. Knows the interior of this place inside out this time. Mostly because it was the last thing he fucking saw before he died. He tiptoes around, his guns in his hands, and his breath rattling beneath his helmet. He can hear the Joker’s voice now. Faint, but close. And he knows that on the other side of these crates, his murderer is hanging around with his henchmen, planning something big, the crowbar still in his hand…

Fuck.

Jason’s panic spikes, and he closes his eyes for a second, trying his best to will it away. He can’t think about his death now. Not when he’s so close to ridding the Earth of this psychopathic piece of filth. Not after everything that’s happened. But he underestimated how well he was coping with all of this. Talking to Sheila was one thing. But confronting his murderer...in the same place that it all happened...it’s another entirely.

Pull yourself the fuck together, Jason, he tells himself. He killed your mom.

Jason opens his eyes and holds his guns closer. He wants to throw a homing mine over his shoulder and be done with this. But the thought of causing an explosion here, after everything, makes him want to be sick. So instead, he slowly creeps around, hearing the henchmen’s discussion grow louder, louder, and louder over the speeding pulse of his heart.

You need to do this,  Jason reminds himself. He killed you. He took you away from Bruce. Alfred. Dick. Barbara. He stole your fucking childhood.

Jason turns a corner. The Joker’s in the middle of a circle of chairs, playing cards with his men. They’re letting him win by a long shot. No wonder.

It would be so easy. To just shoot him now and be done with it. To avenge every single thing in Jason’s life he’s lost since he died. His youth. His innocence. His family’s love. Bruce’s trust…

Jason raises his gun. He steadies his breathing. He purses his lips. And then, just as he’s about to shoot, something wraps around his gun and yanks it away. It takes him longer than he should to realise what it is. And just as he does, another Batgrapple wraps around his waist and yanks him away, too. He’s tugged away from the clearing in the crates and towards the outer rim of the warehouse, and he would land hard, but for the hands that catch him a centimetre from the floor.

Bat-hands.

There’s a brief pause. Jason knows deep down it’s because they need to make sure that no-one heard the noise of Jason being tugged away, and that no-one is going to investigate the disturbance because of what they heard...but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to move. This isn’t how he wanted to meet the Bruce of yesteryear...not by a long shot. Jason waits as long as he can bear to before twisting out of Bruce’s hold and crouching a few metres away from him.

For a few seconds they stare at each other. Bruce is crouching too, the cable of the Batgrapple still in his hands, and Jason’s gun laying discarded at his feet. It’s strange seeing him in the old cowl. It was so much brighter than his current get-up, so much more obvious. And Bruce looks younger. More than five years younger. But Jason has to remind himself that if this is five years ago, this is also a Bruce that’s been through a lot less trauma. He hasn't had his back broken. He hasn’t found Tim, or lost Tim, or lost Dick, or found Damian, or lost Damian, or found Steph, or lost Steph. This is a man of two Robins, two Robins who are and have always been alive. This is a man with two sons and a bright blue cape.

Not the Bruce Jason knows. Not at the moment. And at the moment, Jason to Bruce is just another thug with a gun and a red helmet on.

“Who are you?” Batman asks. Jason refuses to think of him as Bruce. He can’t bear to. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Jason asks. “What are you doing here, old man?”

“Answer the question.”

“I think it was pretty clear what I was trying to do before you fucked it up.” Jason rubs at his hands.

“Why do you want to kill the Joker?” Batman tilts his head.

“Excuse me?” Jason scoffs. They’re both whispering, which would be funny in any context. “Why wouldn’t I want to kill the Joker? He’s a homicidal maniac!”

“You’re wearing his hood.”

“What?”

“His hood. The Red Hood. Are you of any relation?”

Jason swears to God, if he didn’t know that this wasn’t his Bruce he would’ve broken his fucking jaw right then. But because he knows, he has to bite his tongue and play nice. This is confusing for the both of them. And the sooner Jason gets Bruce off his tail, the better.

“Let’s just say I’m something he helped create,” Jason says. “And I’m here to return the favour.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Batman says, “and I can’t let you kill him.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Batman stands. “Now go. I’ll deal with you later.”

“I ain’t going nowhere, old man,” Jason stands as well. “You’re not the only one with a mission.”

“Who said,” Batman says, voice clipped, “I’m on a mission.”

Well shit.

There goes Jason’s plan of being another anonymous mercenary. Ah well. In the best case scenario, he’s got a few hours left until Bruce figures out who he is anyway. He may as well have fun with it.

“I did,” Jason turns around and starts walking back to the opening. “And he’s not here, by the way.”

“Who?”

“Your Robin,” Jason says.

“What-” Batman tugs at his shoulder. “How did you-”

“We can talk about this later,” Jason says.

“If you’ve hurt him-” Batman warns.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I haven’t,” Jason shrugs him off. “And if you talk any louder, Joker’s gonna know we’re here, so pipe down, will ya?”

A brief spell of shock hits Batman’s face. And then his expression hardens again.

“There’s five henchmen with him right now,” Jason says. Information overload. That’s the only way to get a one-up on Bruce. “And this entire place’s rigged to explode.”

Batman frowns. There’s a battle plan forming in his head already. Jason can tell.

“Sheila Haywood is out of the building, before you wonder,” Jason says.

Batman opens his mouth, and then rapidly closes it again. “How do you know all of this?”

“Let’s just say I’m an expert on all things Joker,” Jason crosses his arms.

“And yet you want to kill him.”

“Yes,” Jason says. “You’re right.”

There’s a whoop from in the middle of the room. The Joker’s won the set again. What a fucking surprise.

“Well, since you’re an expert on all things Joker,” Batman looms over him. “Is there anything else you’d like to share?”

“Yes,” Jason puts his hands on his hips.

“What?”

“Your ears are too long.”

Batman stares him down.  “That. Has nothing. To do. With Joker.”

“You’re not denying it,” Jason says. “So that means I’m right. Give me back my gun.”

Batman crosses his arms. “Wait outside.”

“No,” Jason says. “Give me back my gun.”

“You’re not having it.”

“I’m not going anywhere without it.”

“You tried to shoot a man. At close range. Less than two minutes ago,” Batman hisses.

“That’s not important now,” Jason says. “He’s going to get away.”

Batman scowls to himself. In other words: Jason’s got a point, and Bruce can’t find any other way to acknowledge it but that.

“Stay here.”

Jason crosses his arms and sighs. “Not happening.”

“You’re a criminal,” Batman says. “And I’m Batman. Stay. Here.”

Batman gives him a death glare to end all death glares before turning and walking away. Jason can’t help but smirk beneath the mask. He misses this. He doesn’t want to. But he does.

Jason waits until Bruce turns the corner before stooping, picking up his gun, and following him. There’s no way in Hell he’s letting Bruce do this alone. He already tried it that way five years ago. And he already knows how it ends.

Chapter Text

NOW

Jason follows the WayneTech phoneys for six blocks straight. They don’t seem to be going anywhere in particular, and if Jason was to hazard a guess, he’d say that they’re on patrol. But that would be insane. Villains don’t do patrols. Not in this city. And certainly not the dangerous ones. If Jason ever saw Penguin waddling around on patrol he’d eat his hat. Not that he has a hat to eat in the first place.

He gives up after a while, because his arms are aching from the continuous grappling, and he’s very very thirsty. The rain is making his hair drip into his eyes, too. He stands on a rooftop for a few minutes, catching his breath, and trying hard to grasp his bearings. This is all so much harder without Bruce. But he went after his mother on his own, he once defeated Two-Face on his own...he can do this.

It’s just Gotham. He can do this.

Speaking of Gotham...Jason stops and looks around. Something about where he is seems familiar. More familiar than the rest of the city has seemed so far. It takes him a moment to realise that it’s because Dick’s apartment is around here. The one he stays in when he’s in Gotham, anyway. Jason’s sure he wouldn’t mind if he stopped there for a few minutes. And if he’s there...Hell. It would really help to get an ally on all this. Dick might not be talking to Bruce at the moment, but he always knows what’s going on. And he’d step in to help even on his worst day.

Jason grapples from the rooftop and reaches Dick’s apartment. It’s on the top floor, because of course it is. And it doesn’t take Jason long to find the right window. The curtains are drawn, but the window’s unlocked, which means Jason slips in quite easily.

And fuck.

It’s in a worse state than Jason remembered it. There’s popcorn all over the sofa, the tv is playing cartoons, the bookcase is stuffed so full it looks like it might explode, and the rug is incredibly dishevelled. But the lights are on, which is good. And Jason can hear humming from the bathroom, which is also good.

“Dick?” Jason calls.

He shuts the window, and tiptoes across Dick’s excuse for a living room. Hmm. Some of the things here look different. He must’ve put some stuff up whilst Jason and Bruce were away. But wasn’t Dick in space the last time Jason checked? How did he get back so quickly?

Dick’s singing Britney Spears. Because of course he is. The shower is running loudly as Jason slowly approaches the bathroom. But as he reaches the door, it stops.

Jason doesn’t know why he’s nervous. Dick is his brother, for fuck’s sake. That hasn’t changed. But everything’s been so topsy turvy since he woke up on that rooftop. And he doesn’t want Dick to be a phoney, too…

“My loneliness,” Dick sings,“is killing meeeee…”

As Dick approaches the door, Jason suddenly has a flashing moment of doubt and stands to the side of the doorway, his back against the wall. His eyes are wide as Dick leaves the bathroom with nothing but a towel on his hair, and a towel on his hips…

“Gross!” Jason yells, not thinking.

Dick yelps and jumps about three metres. He turns, in the process losing the towel on his head, and grabs the nearest thing to his defence. Unluckily for him, it happens to be a floor lamp.

“Who the fuck are you?” Dick screeches.

Jason holds his hands above his face. The floor lamp is plugged in. And really...fucking….bright...up close. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing that?” Dick says. “You’re in my apartment!”

“The window was open!”

“The window was-” Dick repeats. And then he freezes, slowly lowering the floor lamp. “Jason?”

When Jason opens his eyes, Dick’s face is pale, and his mouth open slack. Jason rubs at his eyes from under his mask and scowls.

“Yes, genius!” He says, exasperated. “Who else would it be?”

Dick backs away. He’s blinking rapidly, his bottom lip trembling. He backs away until he reaches the back of the sofa, and then he sits on it, his blue eyes pinned to Jason’s face. He looks down. And then, when he looks up again, his face is filled with grief.

“How is this happening?” He asks. “You’re you. I mean, you’re young. And...Robiny.”

“You say this like it’s a shock.”

“It is a shock,” Dick says. “You don’t look like this. Not anymore.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve got ten seconds to prove that you’re you.” Dick’s eyes are deadly serious. “Really  you.”

Jason looks at him for a moment, trying to gauge whether this is a test or not. And when he figures that it is, he sighs, crossing his arms.

“When we first met you said I was short. And I hated it,” Jason recites. “I hated you. You were wearing a bright purple jumper. Your hair was longer. And we went bowling. I didn’t want a brother, not really. But you did. And you bought me candyfloss after. And I ate so much I threw up when we got home, all over Bruce’s favourite rug, and Bruce gave you such a death glare that we both just started laughing. And he started laughing too. And I felt so much better because of that. Because you still hated each other, but things looked like they could’ve been better right then. Because of me. And...Alfred made us clean it up, of course.”

“He made me clean it up,” Dick says, quietly. A faint smile is growing on his face. “You just sat and watched.”

“I was sick,” Jason argues.

“You were making vague groaning noises, Jason,” Dick smiles. “I think you just wanted me to get in trouble.”

Jason smirks. “Maybe.”

Dick looks at him for a moment. His smile fades. And then he sighs, rubbing at his eyes.

“This is a mess,” Dick declares.

“Yeah, no shit,” Jason says, crossing his arms. “Do you believe it’s me now?”

“Yeah,” Dick answers. He’s staring at the floor now.

“Right,” Jason steps forward. “Okay. So...Gotham is different.”

“When were you last here?”

“Uh,” Jason blinks. “Not sure.”

“That you remember?” Dick stands, walking to his bedroom.

“Uh, before Ethiopia,” Jason follows. “I mean, that I can remember.”

“That was a long time ago,” Dick says.

He closes the door slightly, and Jason lingers outside.

“How long?” He asks, crossing his arms.

Dick pauses. And then he chuckles a little.

“What?” Jason asks.

“Would you believe me if I said five years?”

Jason’s heart stops. He bursts into the room, slamming the door open.

“WHAT?”

“Jesus Christ, Jason!” Dick yells. “I’m naked!”

“FIVE YEARS?”

“Jay!” Dick throws clothes at Jason’s face. “Get out! Oh my God-”

“FIVE MOTHERFUCKING YEARS?” Jason screeches. “WHY? WHERE DID I GO?”

“If you just get out- then I’ll-”

Jason huffs, leaving the room. Dick slams the door shut and stands behind it for a second, breathing heavily.

“Okay,” Dick says. “So you’ve obviously time travelled.”

“I’ve what?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Dick says. “But the year is 2018. And you were in Ethiopia five years ago. And now you’re here. Five years younger.”

“Are you- are you telling me this is the future?”

“Yes.”

“Dick- thats-” Jason laughs, tugging at his hair. “That’s fucking crazy.”

“I know,” Dick closes his eyes. “But it’s true. I’m twenty-four years old.”

“But you look so similar,” Jason says, at a loss. “I mean. Your hair is different. But…”

“The Dick you know is nineteen,” Dick says. “Right?”

“Yeah.”

Dick opens the door. He’s got trousers on now, thank God, and he’s pulling on a jumper.

“I don’t know if you’d believe me if I said the Jason I know is nineteen,” he says.

Jason feels like crying. He’s so tired all of a sudden. His brain is imploding. And he just wants to go home.

“Did...did I bring Sheila home?” Jason says. “Did I save her?”

“Jason, she’s dead,” Dick looks away. “I...I’m sorry.”

“Fuck,” Jason spits.

So he failed after all. He betrayed Bruce...and he still failed. God. How horrible. Jason wants to burrow himself in a hole in the ground and never resurface.

There’s a brief pause, and then Dick tugs him into a hug. It’s warm, and pretty nice. But Jason can’t lean into it. Not really. It feels so wrong. This isn’t his brother. And this isn’t his world. Not really.

“I don’t know you,” Jason says. “Do I?”

“I’m not the same as I used to be, I must admit,” Dick squeezes Jason’s shoulders. “But enough of me is the same. And enough of you is the same. I believe that.”

“And- and Bruce?”

“Bruce’s different too,” Dick pulls away. “I’m sorry, Little Wing.”

Different how? Different as in sad? Different as in scary? Different as in dead? Retired? Hurt? Or different as in- he just doesn’t love Jason anymore? There are so many questions to ask. But Jason doesn’t have the heart to answer any of them. His mind is so boggled right now he can’t even begin to process anything. But at least Dick’s here with him. And their relationship seems to be about the same…

“We’re going to figure this out,” Dick says, squeezing his shoulders.

“How?” Jason says. “I’m locked out of WayneTech. I can’t find Bruce. It’s falling apart, Dick.”

“No it’s not,” Dick says. “You have me. And I can find Bruce, okay?”

“Are you talking to him again?”

“Little Wing,” Dick smiles, letting go. “It’s been five years. I think that’s a yes.”

“I’d fucking hope so,” Jason rubs at his own arms. “I’m starting to get sick of being in the middle of you two. Or- was- rather.”

“I know,” Dick gives him a sympathetic look. “Hey. Are you cold? I can get you some new clothes, if you’d like.”

“I’m fine,” Jason says.

“You’re freezing, Jay,” Dick frowns. “And plus. It might not be...the best idea for you to be in this outfit right now.”

“Why?” Jason scowls. “Did...did Bruce fire me?”

“No…” Dick looks immensely uncomfortable. “Listen. Why don’t you take a seat. I’ll get you some clothes. And then I’ll call Bruce, and we can straighten this whole thing out.”

“I don’t see how,” Jason says. “Unless you’ve got a time travelling device in this mess of an apartment.”

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Dick laughs. “Honestly. I’ve been in and out of so many places recently…”

Jason begrudgingly sits on the sofa. “Do you still live in Blud?”

“Most of the time,” Dick says, going to his bedroom. He returns with a bundle of clothes. “I’m usually only here when a case takes me here. Or when I’m standing in for Bruce…”

“Whoa,” Jason’s eyes go wide. “He lets you stand in for him?”

“Yeah,” Dick itches at the back of his neck.

“In what universe?”

“In a universe where I was Batman for six months,” Dick says. He carefully starts singling out clothes for Jason to wear.

“You’re shitting me.” Jason stares. His heart is pounding.

“Unfortunately not,” Dick smiles, but there’s a sadness to it. A sadness Jason can’t place.

“How was it?”

“Tiring.”

“I can’t believe-” Jason blinks. “I can’t believe he’d trust anyone that much! Was I your Robin?”

Dick’s smile fades. He concentrates very hard on the clothing in front of him. “No.”

“Ah,” Jason pouts. “I mean, if it was recent, I was probably too old anyway.”

“I was Robin until I was eighteen, Jay.”

“Yeah,” Jason shrugs. “But still. I’d like to think I branched out some day. Or will, or whatever.”

Dick doesn’t answer. He just continues sorting out the clothes.

“Not that you should’ve branched out earlier,” Jason says. He’s on information overload, which is making him nervous, which is making him talk way too much. A trait the both of them share. “I just. I don’t know. I’d like to be Bruce’s equal one day, you know?”

“Yeah,” Dick smiles. “I understand the feeling.”

Jason looks at the clothing at last. “Your fashion sense has gotten better, at least.”

“Hey!”

“What?” Jason shrugs. “I can’t say I miss the long hair.”

“The long hair was a look,” Dick pouts, but he throws the pile of clothes Jason’s way nonetheless. “And this should work for now.”

“Work?” Jason scowls. “These are several sizes too big, Dickie.”

“Yeah, well,” Dick takes the excess clothing back to his bedroom. “You haven’t had your growth spurt yet. So tough.”

“I have a growth spurt?” Jason calls. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“When?”

“In a couple of years.”

“How tall did I grow? Have you got any pictures?”

“Jay…”

“I’m serious, Dick,” Jason tugs the hoodie over his armour. “I wanna know.”

“Maybe some other time,” Dick enters the room again. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Like this.”

“Me neither,” Jason shrugs. “Hey. You know...the other me.”

Dick stares him down. “Yes.”

“Is he here? In Gotham?”

“I…” Dick stares at the wall. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“Would...would meeting him create some weird fuckin’ time paradox or something? Because- if so, I don’t want to create one, but if not-”

“I don’t know where you are at the moment, Little Wing,” Dick says, and it looks like a lie.

Jason’s too tired to argue with him, though. If Dick wants to keep Jason’s current location a secret, then fine. Barbara will tell him. No matter what changes in the world, one constant is always the same: and that constant is that Barbara loves getting one up on Dick. Jason’s sure of it.

“Hey…” Jason trails off. “My mama? Is she really dead?”

“Yes,” Dick puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Jay.”

So he’s an orphan again. Just when he thought he was going to have a mother again...he let her go. He let her slip through his fingertips. What a useless Robin he turned out to be. He was supposed to protect people. Maybe he deserves being thrown into the future like this. Maybe it’s for the best after all. Jason’s not sure he could bear letting her down first-hand. He thinks he’d rather die.

“I’m just going to call Bruce, okay?” Dick itches the back of his neck. “Help yourself to food if you’re hungry. And...if you could write down everything you remember from tonight, or before...or any weird shit that’s happened recently. That would probably help too.”

“Okay,” Jason stares at his feet.

He’s so used to solving cases. He’s not sure how he likes being at the centre of one. But if it means he can get home, to his Bruce, and to his mom, and to his world...it’s probably for the best. If he gets back...he can do better. He can make Bruce proud. Save his mom. And maybe, just maybe...things will be turn out okay after all.

Chapter Text

THEN

Batman disappears from view. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out where he’s gone. Even indoors, Bruce Wayne will always gravitate towards the highest, most isolated part of a room. In this warehouse, it just happens to be the rafters holding up the ceiling. Jason would follow, but he’s got more pressing matters to deal with at the moment- like the fact that he hasn’t got a grapple on him at the moment, and the fact that the Joker is still living and breathing, and he has a matter of seconds left to act before Bruce gets in the way…

Damnit. He needs to slow Bruce down. He needs to change the dynamic somehow.

He fires a shot towards the ceiling, no doubt startling Bruce, and causing the goons in the centre to jump from their seats.

“What was that?”

“Sheila, darling, have you been on the brandy again?” Joker’s voice rings hoarse and clear from the centre.

Jason doesn’t know if it’s the mention of his mother, or the Joker’s voice...but it sends him over the edge. He runs to the centre of the warehouse and starts firing. Shots tear through the henchmen’s arms and legs. They’ve been caught unaware, so they don’t stand a chance. But that’s not what Jason cares about. He’s seeing Joker laughing, and his vision is turning red…

He falls back. A Batarang lands in front of his feet- a warning shot. Jason stands still, his heart racing. Batman appears from the rafters, his cape dangling down. The Joker just laughs more. He’s standing behind his goons, one hand on his chest, just as pasty and disgusting as Jason remembered…

“My knight in shining armour!” The Joker wheezes. “Or, should I say- my dark knight?”

“This ends now, Joker,” Batman calls. His jaw is tight.

“On the contrary, Batsy!” The Joker reaches behind him. “We’ve only just begun!”

He pulls out a machine gun, to the surprise of absolutely no-one, and Jason runs forward.

“Get back!” He spits, towards Bruce.

Batman dives forward, doing the exact opposite of what Jason told him to do, and pulls his cape up around them. Bulletproof cape. Nice. Jason forgot he used to have that back in the day.

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Jason spits.

“I told you to stay out of this,” Batman says. “You say you know Joker. But you have no idea of how dangerous he can be.”

“Fuck off,” Jason says. “I know plenty.”

He pushes Bruce away and runs. Bullets are flying everywhere. Not a good omen, considering how full to the brim of explosives the warehouse is. Jason needs to end this. Fast.

He reaches up and takes a shot. He’s lucky. It rips through Joker’s left arm, and he drops the gun, cackling.  

“I patented that helmet, you know!” He croaks, smiling. “I’ll see you in court!”

“I’ll see you in Hell,” Jason hisses.

He runs towards Joker, guns held high, but a barricade of thugs come out of nowhere, stopping him. He looks ahead. Batman is grappling overhead, trying to get to the Joker before Jason does.

No. Fucking. Way.

Jason can’t watch Bruce let the Joker go again. After all he’s done. After all he’s going to do…

“Where is he?” Batman roars. The Joker holds out an acid-spitting flower, but Batman slaps it out of the way.

“Who?”

“Robin,” Batman slaps another gun out of his way. “Where is he?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.” Joker laughs. “Why, what’s wrong, Batsy? Losing track of your stock?”

“I’m not laughing,” Batman says, tugging him up by the shirt.

“Neither am I,” The Joker says, and his face falls.

“Batman!” Jason yells. He’s still being held back by the thugs. “Stop- he’s going to-”

The Joker holds up a detonator and presses the button at the top of it. Time stops for Jason as beeps ring throughout the warehouse. He knows that sound. It was the last thing he heard before he died.

Batman starts to run. He’s dragging the Joker along, who’s laughing madly through the chaos, his arm still gushing blood from where Jason pierced it. And the remaining henchmen are running for their lives. But not Jason. He’s frozen. His whole body feels numb. He can’t do it. Can’t do this. Not again...not after everything…

“Damnit,” he hears Batman hiss.

Jason stares blankly ahead. He’s only aware that Batman grabs him when his feet leave the ground, and then, he just watches the warehouse fly by. He can’t stop listening to the beeps. Can’t stop seeing the explosion in his head. And then it happens for real, and it’s as though his entire world crashes back to life.

Because he’s not dead this time. In fact, he’s falling, falling hard onto the mud below, the air leaving his lungs and his guns flying from his hands. He can hear the warehouse collapsing behind them. And he looks up to see the orange flaring over Batman’s face, his expression tense beneath the cowl. He’s turning. Looking. Watching the surviving henchmen crawl away. But there’s no Joker there. Because there never is.

“We need to get out of the immediate area,” Batman says, when Jason finally turns over.

There’s smoke all around them. Jason can barely breathe. But it’s not because of smoke inhalation this time. It’s because internally, he’s an absolute wreck. And he can’t stop thinking about how Bruce must’ve found him the first time. In the same trash heap he’s looking at now. At least this time Sheila hasn’t joined him. At least this time, Jason didn’t completely and utterly fail…

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason wheezes.

Batman doesn’t help him up. He just stares, in that weird, clinical way that he stares at everything he’s trying to examine or define. Jason’s in no mood for speculation. So he ignores him, stands up, and starts walking away.

“You tried to kill him,” Batman says.

Jason jumps, not realising that Batman was following him. His face is sweaty beneath his helmet. He wants to take it off so badly...but he can’t. Not with Bruce on his tail. That would be too much right now.

“I told you I would,” Jason says.

“You need to answer for that.”

“Fine,” Jason shrugs. “Then arrest me.”

Bruce must sense that something is wrong, because he doesn’t do just that. Instead, once they reach an area not completely infested with smoke, he turns and watches the blaze.

“There won’t be a body,” Jason says. “You know there won’t.”

Bruce turns to him. “Do I know you?”

Jason tries to answer as though they haven’t just escaped a burning warehouse together. “Do you think you do?”

Bruce’s lips purse. “Yes.”

“Is that why you saved me?”

Bruce looks away. “I don’t agree in death.”

“Not even the Joker,” Jason bats a hand. “Yeah, yeah, old man. I know how it goes.”

Batman opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it again. Instead, he reaches for his ear, and moves a few steps away. Jason doesn’t need to see him fully to know what he’s doing. He’s checking the airwaves for signs of Robin. A message, a signal...anything. And Jason doesn’t know why, but it breaks his heart to see Bruce like this. He suddenly looks so vulnerable. And no matter what...he’s still his dad.

“I told you,” Jason says. “He’s not here.”

Batman whips his head back to him. He’s frowning deeper now. “How do you know all of this?”

“Because…” Jason’s heart starts to leap. “Because…”

Because he’s me, he’s about to say. But then the choppy sound of helicopter blades cut through the air above, and then Batman is starting to run.

“Come on,” he calls.

Maybe it’s just that stupid Robin instinct kicking in again. Or maybe he’s just tired and cold. But either way, Jason doesn’t hesitate. He follows Bruce as fast as he physically can, throwing common sense to the wind.

“I hope you came here in the car!” Jason yells.

“How do you-” Batman begins. But then he thinks better of it and shakes his head.

They find the car behind a couple of bushes. Subtle, Bruce. Ah well. At least it’s not the stupid one person Bat-copter Bruce went around in these days.

“I’ll let you in,” Batman says. “On one condition.”

The helicopter is getting closer. Jason’s heart is whirring.

“Sure,” he says.

“You need to tell me where Robin is.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “I said sure, didn’t I?”

“You are still a criminal, and you will face justice,” Batman says. “No matter what.”

“Okay!” Jason screeches. “Fucking sure! Whatever! Just get in the car!”

Batman opens the passenger door for him first before sliding in himself. God. It’s been a while since Jason got in one of these. Even Bruce in the future won’t let him anywhere near. But somehow Jason remembers every single part of it. Already, muscle memory is kicking in. He does his seatbelt without prompt, flicks on the radar on the dash, and locks the doors.

Bruce stares at him in shock. “Who are you?”

“Drive!” Jason says. “Just fucking drive!”

Bruce starts up the car and does. In the few seconds that follow Jason is the tensest he’s ever been in his life. He’s getting pretty tired of having to evade death today. But luckily, the helicopters remain around the warehouse, the smoke obscuring the car as it rushes away.

Jason watches the ground whizz past. And then he turns to Bruce, feeling faint.

“Who were those guys?”

“Federal police,” Batman says.

“Wooh,” Jason presses his helmet against the back of the seat. Must have something to do with Joker being diplomatically immune, or something. If that’s even a thing at this stage...Hell. Jason was dead at the time, so he can’t exactly blame himself for not knowing...

Batman doesn’t take his eyes off Jason. His lip is curling, like he’s unbelievably angry, and unsure of how better to express it. “Who. Are. You.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Bruce,” Jason grins beneath the helmet. God. He’s so fucking tired.

Batman’s face grows slack. “Dick?”

To be fair, him and Dick aren’t talking at the moment, and Jason’s helmet has a voice modifier on it...but still. The guess still makes Jason laugh.

“Guess again, dad.”

Jason takes off the helmet. The air rushes to his face immediately. But that’s not the alarming part. The alarming part is the fact that Bruce’s face has gone sheet white. And that he’s staring at Jason, his mouth comically open. He closes and parts his lips multiple times in the search for an explanation. And then his hands grow slack, he momentarily lets go of the wheel, and the car veers off the dirt road track completely.

Chapter Text

NOW

Jason wakes to the sound of whispering. He’s on the sofa, despite Dick’s protests from the night before. He wanted Jason to sleep in the bed. But there was no way he was gunna make Dick sleep on his own sofa, in his own apartment...so here he is, with a duvet over his body and a pillow under his head. The whispering sounds important, so he keeps his eyes shut and pretends to be asleep. Maybe this way he’ll actually figure out what’s going on?

“Guys, you can’t be here. Not now.” That voice sounds like Dick. He sounds desperate right now. Hah. Even more reason to listen in.

“Why not?” Another voice chimes in. “We’re not hurting him, we just want to-”

“No.” Dick whispers. “Please, Tim. It’s just not the right time. He doesn’t even know you exist.”

“And who’s fault is that?” another voice answers. God, how many people are in this fucking apartment? This voice is high pitched and stuffy. “If we’d found him, as intended, he would be fully up to date right now-”

“It’s not that easy!” Dick hisses. “And you know it! Can you imagine what would happen if this was you? Completely out of your time, with so much you’ve missed-”

“He’s not a butterfly, Richard,” the voice replies. “He’s not going to break at the first sign of tension. Let me speak with him.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re a team. You said we’re a team.”

“Not until Bruce gets here.”

“What, and you think he’s going to make this better?” The other voice replies. “The guy who has never been able to forget this Jason, the guy that’s got a goddamn fucking shrine in the cave-”

Jason can’t bear it anymore. He sits up, hair wild. “What shrine?”

Dick turns around, face pale. He’s standing at the door of the apartment. In the doorway stand a tall pale boy and a shorter, darker one. The short one looks like Bruce. Weird. But what’s weirder is the fact that they remind Jason of something...wait…

“They’re the phoneys!” Jason stands up, pointing. “Dick! They’re the phoneys from earlier!”

Dick looks away, expression anguished. “Jason…”

“Get your armour!” Jason leaps across the room and starts searching for his suit. “Get your suit, Dick! They’re to do with all of this! They were there at WayneTech, and now they’re here to-”

“They’re not here to do anything, Jay,” Dick sighs. He looks very resigned, and there’s dark bags beneath his eyes. “They’re your brothers.”

Jason freezes. He looks at the boys standing in the hallway. And then he backs away.

“No,” he says, weakly.

The boys look incredibly uncomfortable. The taller one looks like he wants to sink through the floor. The younger one looks like he’s studying Jason, the same way Bruce does whenever he’s around strangers, and Jason hates it quite a bit. He hates this whole situation. His heart is racing, and he just wants to go home. He wants to wake up now.

“You’re older than me,” he points, towards the taller boy. “You can’t be my brother.”

“This is the future, Jay,” Dick says.

“So he-” Jason gulps down a breath. “So Bruce- he- he adopted more? After me?”

The shorter boy snorts. The taller boy elbows him.

“Let’s just all calm down,” Dick pleads. “C’mon, Little Wing. We can get you a drink or something, take a seat, and we can talk about this later-”

“No!” Jason says. “I wanna talk about this now! How many!”

There’s an uncomfortable silence.

“How many did he adopt?”

“Strictly speaking,” the taller boy says, expression uncomfortable, “there’s five of us.”

“Four,” the shorter one glares. “Unlike you cretin, I am actually my father’s biological-”

“Damian, please,” Dick begs.

The taller boy continues. “-And that’s not even including Steph or Duke, who aren’t legally adopted but-”

“There’s more?” Jason’s eyes are watering. “What, did everyone just forget about me?”

Another uncomfortable silence. The shorter boy opens his mouth to speak, but the taller boy elbows him.

“We didn’t forget about you, Little Wing,” Dick says. “That’s like saying Bruce forgot about me when he adopted you.”

“But that was different!” Jason yells. “He needed a Robin! And you weren’t talking to him anymore!”

“If you think that’s the only reason he adopted you, you’re wrong.”

“It was the reason he noticed me!” Jason says. “And you two- and everyone else- he probably only noticed you because I wasn’t good enough anymore!”

“Jay, that’s not-”

“What happened to me?” Jason says. His face is red now, he’s sure of it. “Did I quit?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the shorter boy says. He’s borderline smirking.

“I’m sick of everyone lying to me!” Jason says. “Either tell me the truth or leave me the fuck alone!”

He turns on the spot, runs to the bathroom, and slams the door as hard as he can. He hears arguing from the other side, but can’t bring himself to care. He slides down the door, presses his head to his knees, and blinks until he cries. And then he breaks out into violent, uncontrollable sobs. It’s been such a bad time. All of this. It’s a wreck. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want to be in stupid future Dick’s bathroom with his stupid future brothers. He misses Bruce and Alfred. His Bruce and Alfred. Not whatever phoneys this timeline has in store for him.

A knock breaks through Jason’s crying. He tightens his jaw.

“Jay, it’s me,” Dick says. “Please open up.”

“Fuck off,” Jason croaks.

“Please. It’s just me. They’ve gone now.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Silence. Jason puts his arms around his knees and purses his lips.

“I know how hard this must be for you.”

“No you don’t,” Jason hisses. “You don’t know shit.”

“Please let me in, Jay.”

“No.” Jason insists.

“Okay,” Dick says. He slides and sits on the other side of the door. Jason feels the weight shift the door a little. And ignores it.

“This is the part where you give me some stupid fucking pep talk, like I’m one of your stupid Titans, and I’m supposed to stop crying and forgive you,” Jason says.

Dick presses his head against the door. “You know me too well.”

“Fuck off.”

“I just don’t know how to help you, Jay.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You’re angry right now. You don’t mean that.”

Jason sniffs. He’s right. He doesn’t.

“I just want my world back,” he croaks.

“I know, Little Wing,” Dick moves, and his voice becomes louder- he must have his face pressed against the door now. “And I know this sucks. It really does. But we’re going to figure out a way to send you home.”

“Everyone keeps lying to me,” Jason says. His throat is sore, and he’s cried so much his nose is running. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

“Bruce’s going to get here soon, okay?” Dick says. “Don’t worry, Jay. It’s going to be alright.”

“What if he hates me?” Jason asks. He feels like running away. “What if he hates me now?”

“He doesn’t hate you, Jay.”

“Why did he adopt all of those kids then? Why wasn’t he happy with just us two?”

“They needed him,” Dick says. “Just like we needed him. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if he’d decided that he was happy with ‘just me?’ If he’d left you in that alley?”

Jason shrinks into his knees. “Did they go through shit too?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighs. “A lot of shit. I know it doesn’t make it any better, but. They did.”

Jason sniffs. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Dick’s voice lightens with optimism.

“If...if he saved them. And they needed him. It’s okay,” Jason rubs his eyes. “Not completely okay. But a little.”

“I’m not saying that you have to get to know them while you’re here,” Dick says. “No-one’s saying that. You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to. But if you do...they’re there. And they’re good people, Jay.”

“You’re meant to say that,” Jason fights a smile. God, Dick is so...cheesy. “They’re your family.”

“I guess so,” Dick says. “But Bruce and Alfred adore them. Just like they adore you. So that’s got to count for something, right?”

Jason looks down. “Yeah.”

Dick shuffles once more. “Can you open the door for me, Jay?”

Jason thinks about it. And then he realises that Dick’s bathroom is sort of really scary, and he doesn’t want to be alone right now. So he sits up, reaches for the lock, and pulls it open. Dick’s sitting on the other side, his eyes filled with emotion. And it takes him less than a second to scramble over to Jason and tug him into a hug. Jason puts his arms around Dick’s neck and buries his head on his shoulder. He just wants to disappear right now. From this world, from everything.

“I’m sorry about everything,” Dick says. “They weren’t meant to come here. They just heard Bruce was on his way, and they just-”

“It’s okay,” Jason says. “I get it.”

“Okay,” Dick holds him tighter. “I just wanna keep you safe, Little Wing.”

Jason pushes him away. “Keep me safe? You can’t even keep yourself safe, Dickhead.”

“Oh,” Dick smiles. “So we’re onto name calling now?”

“Fuck you.”

Dick smiles even more. He stands, ruffling Jason’s hair. “Now that’s the Jay I know.”

“You said Bruce was coming.” Jason stands as well. He feels silly now. It’s one thing having an emotional breakdown. It’s another having one in front of your big brother.

“Yeah, he’s on his way,” Dick sticks his hands in his pockets. “Uh. Unless you don’t want to see him?”

Jason rubs at his arms. He’s not sure at this point. He wants to see Bruce. But he wants to see his Bruce. Not the one with thousands of kids. But he also knows that Bruce is probably the only one who can get him out of this mess. Bruce knows how to fix everything. And if he’s the only way home…

“It’s okay,” Jason says.

“Are you sure?” Dick raises an eyebrow.

“He’s my dad,” Jason says. “I have to see him sometime, right?”

“Right,” Dick repeats. He looks at Jason for a moment, purses his lips, and moves to the kitchen. “Well. There’s some pancake mix in the cupboard. You hungry?”

Chapter Text

THEN

“Jesus fuck!” Jason screeches.

The car lurches sideways, and Jason reaches blindly for the wheel. He manages to grab it just in time and spin it in the opposite direction, veering the car back onto the dirt track. It’s not perfect, however. And it’s remarkably hard to drive the Batmobile from the passenger seat. Luckily, Bruce wises up five seconds later, and takes the wheel into his heavily gloved hands. His face is pale, and Jason doesn’t have to be a psychic to know that his brain is one big clusterfuck right now. He doesn’t envy him.

“Keep your eyes on the fucking road next time!” Jason sits back in his seat. His heart is racing. “Fucking Hell!”

Bruce clears his throat. It’s a horrible noise. Indecision has always looked so alien on Bruce. Especially when he lets it show.

“Jason,” he says, somewhat unsure.

“Um, yes?” Jason raises an eyebrow. “Who else did you think it’d be? Jesus?”

Bruce opens his mouth, closes it again, and glances to the road. God. He’s so pale right now. Jason feels like stopping the car and giving him a bucket.

“You’re- the-” Bruce stammers. “I left you- at the-”

“Outside the warehouse, I know,” Jason says.

“How did- you-” Bruce swallows, hard. “You’re different. Visibly.”

“Older is the word for it, dad,” Jason smirks. He can’t lie. Half of this is horrifying and half of this is incredibly hilarious.

“By how much?”

“Five years, give or take,” Jason shrugs. “I’m nineteen.”

“Your hair,” Bruce says, weakly. “Did you dye...your hair?”

Jason can’t help it. He barks out a laugh.

“Your son appears out of nowhere, fucking five years older, and that’s the only thing you’re worried about? The white stripe?” Jason snorts. “No, I didn’t dye it.”

“How are you here?” Bruce asks. “And where- where are you now? The younger you? The one I-”

“I don’t know,” Jason shrugs. “Presumably, he’s wherever I was. Or used to be. I don’t know. I’ve tried not to think about it.”

Bruce nods. He still looks faint. Jason watches him for a moment, frowning.

“Do you want me to drive?” He asks.

Bruce shakes his head. He inhales sharply, and tightens his hands on the wheel.

“You’re from the future,” he says, finally.

“Yup.”

“And I’m supposed to just- believe that.”

“Well,” Jason shrugs. “I don’t really know how I can prove it to you...do you want a DNA test or something?”

“That won’t help,” Bruce says. “Not if you’re from the future.”

“I guess not,” Jason crosses his arms. “How about I tell you something about yourself? Something only future me knows about you?”

Bruce looks at him warily. Jason sighs.

“C’mon, dad,” Jason says. “I don’t bite.”

“You had guns, back there,” Bruce says. A new emotion is entering his face- anger. “You tried to shoot the Joker.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Doesn’t sound it to me.”

“A lot of things have changed, Bruce,” Jason says. “In the future. In my future, anyway.”

“Do I exist? In this future of yours? Am I still alive?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m just okay with this?” Bruce is going full dad mode on him now. Great. “The guns? The shooting? The potential killing?”

Jason snorts. Potential. “No. Not really.”

“Are we- are we enemies?”

“Not quite,” Jason looks out the window.

“Then what are we?” Bruce asks. “Did I cast you out? Did I throw you in Arkham? What-”

Jason sighs. And then he undoes his jacket. Bruce looks at the red Batsymbol engraved there, blinks, and then brings the car to a stop. He stares at the symbol for a minute. Looks down at his own.

“How did you become this?” Bruce asks.

Jason scoffs. “Well, fuck you too.”

“You talk like my Jason,” Bruce says. “You even sound like him, a little. But guns- he’d never-”

“Let’s just say I’ve been through some shit your Jason hasn’t,” Jason looks at his feet. “Some things I shouldn’t have been made to go through.”

“Because of me.”

Jason looks at Bruce. He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he just stares. Bruce meets the gaze for a minute. And then he turns away, his jaw very tight, and begins driving again.

“Your middle name is Thomas,” Jason says, after a while. His helmet is sitting in his lap. It’s a lot easier to stare at than Bruce. “You didn’t tell me that until I came back.”

“Came back?”

...From the dead.

Fuck.

“...to Gotham,” Jason says, instead. “I left, for a while. But I didn’t know that until then.”

“I don’t remember telling you,” Bruce says. “Or him. My Jason.”

His Jason. God. Jason rolls his eyes and looks out of the window.

“You’ve always wanted a dog,” Jason continues. “You’d call it Ace.”

“Do I have one?”

“In the future?” Jason asks. “Yes.”

“What is…” Bruce hesitates. He’s having trouble processing all of this, Jason can tell. “What is the future like?”

“Why?” Jason snorts. “Wanna know the lottery numbers or something?”

Bruce looks incredibly vulnerable in that moment, and it tugs at Jason’s heart. He’s just not sure why.

“I want to know...in case you’re right. In case my Jason is...there.”

“Oh,” Jason says. He feels incredibly guilty now. Great. “It’s not that bad, I guess. I mean, the family’s a lot bigger. So Gotham’s safer. But if he is there, I just think he might be a bit intimidated by it all. God knows I was. When I came back.”

“The family is…” Bruce frowns. “Bigger?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jason smirks. “It’s only you, Barb, Alfred and Dick right now. But trust me. It gets bigger.”

“And what about you?” Bruce asks. “Are you...well? Did you go to college in the end?”

“Bruce,” Jason says. “You just witnessed me shoot down a warehouse filled with explosives. Do you think I went to college?”

Bruce looks away, clearly hurt. Damnit. Jason and his stupid fucking mouth.

“It’s not what I would’ve wanted for you,” Bruce says, quietly.

“Yeah,” Jason rests his face on his hand. “But as I said. Some bad shit happened.”

He watches the world pass by in silence. He never got to experience what this Wednesday felt like the first time around. The evening. The night. He’s not sure he even lived that far into the morning. But it’s not like he can tell this Bruce that. This Bruce, who sounds so sentimental and delicate in comparison to his own. And that’s saying something.

“We can’t leave Ethiopia,” Bruce says, after a while. “Not yet. Not until I’m sure that Robin- my Jason- isn’t still here.”

“Bruce, he’s not here,” Jason says. “Trust me. He’s not.”

“Until we discover the cause of your appearance-”

“Oh, trust me, I know the cause,” Jason snorts. “You wouldn’t believe me, but some guy called Time-Twizzler threw this thing at me and-”

Bruce stops the car again. “Time-Twizzler?”

“I know, right?” Jason laughs. “Dumb name. But-”

“Jason,” Bruce looks incredibly angry right now. So angry Jason almost wants to cower back. “What did he throw at you?”

“Why? You know him?”

“No, I don’t know him,” Bruce snaps. “But if he had Time in his name, then it’s most likely that he had time travelling abilities, which means-”

“I heard some shit about him putting like, a chicken back in time once,” Jason expresses. “But I thought it was just street talk! You know, him trying to make a name for himself!”

“So you took him on, alone?”

Jason scoffs. “Um, yeah?”

“With absolutely no backup?” Bruce scolds. God. It’s like he never fucking left.

“Well, excuse me,” Jason argues. “But I didn’t think I needed the whole fucking cavalry to deal with a man in bright purple underwear!”

“You should never underestimate your opponent, Jay!” Bruce yells. “Never!”

There’s a short silence. Jason fights the urge to laugh. This shit is so familiar to him, in both past and present, that he could cry.

“Jay, huh?” Jason repeats, smiling a little. “That’s new.”

Or old.

Bruce just throws his hands up in exasperation. “I can’t believe you took on a time traveller. Alone.”

“I didn’t know he was going to do what he did,” Jason says. “I mean, I didn’t even know he could.”

“What did he throw at you?”

“I don’t know. Some weird...purple and green orb,” Jason shrugs. “I couldn’t really get a good look at it.”

Bruce’s lips form a thin line. He starts the car up again. God, this Bruce is a lot more dramatic than Jason remembers. Nowadays he’s a lot more...brooding.

“Are you some sort of vigilante?” Bruce asks. “In the future? Is that why you wear my symbol?”

“I guess,” Jason shrugs.

Bruce nods. “A part of me thought you’d be Robin forever.”

Jason’s throat grows tight and he blinks, for the first time fighting tears. “I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Jason sips in a breath. He rubs his eyes and tries to focus. “As I said. Complicated.”

Bruce brings the car to a stop at a clearing. In this clearing sits the Batwing, a lot larger and a lot more angular than Jason remembered it being. Huh. It’s funny what you forget when you die.

“I’m going to need blood and tissue samples,” Bruce says, so casually it hurts.

“Of course.”

“And I’m also going to need you to write down everything you know. Or remember.”

Jason rolls his eyes. Bruce presses a button on the dashboard and the back of the Batwing opens, forming a ramp. Bruce drives the Batmobile inside, closes the back of the plane, and exits the car. Jason moves to join him, but Bruce holds up a hand.

“I need you to stay in there,” he says.

“Why?”

Bruce makes the closest thing to an apologetic face in the cowl that he can muster.

“The Batwing only has one passenger seat,” he says.

Jason rolls his eyes. Great.

Chapter Text

NOW

Jason spends the best part of the morning stuck in a tornado of anxiety. Dick keeps trying to distract him. But it doesn’t work. Jason’s nerves only build with the anticipation, and now he’s only focused on seeing Bruce, on seeing Bruce, on seeing Bruce, and he knows that Bruce is on his way, on his way, on his way…

“Jason, you need to calm down,” Dick says, for the fortieth time. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

Jason keeps tapping his feet on the carpet. He’s staring at his Robin suit from across the room. He feels homesick and physically sick. And he’s an emotional wreck.

“He’s taking so long to get here,” Jason says.

“He was off world, Little Wing,” Dick puts his hand on Jason’s knee, stopping the tapping of his foot. “He’s coming as fast as he can.”

“What if he just doesn’t want to see me?” Jason asks. “What if he’s just- what if he’s just lying- and-”

“I don’t know why you think Bruce hates you all of a sudden,” Dick says. “He loves you. He’s always loved you.”

Jason shakes his head rapidly. “In Ethiopia- I didn’t listen. I went after my mom anyway. And he knows that and now she’s dead and it’s all my-”

“Jason,” Dick pleads. “Please.”

“No.”

“That was five years ago, Little Wing. He’s forgotten.”

Jason shakes his head. He’s close to tears again. Fuck.

“If you don’t want him to come, tell me,” Dick crouches in front of Jason, placing his hands on his shoulders. “He can come another time. It doesn’t have to be now.”

“I can’t get home without seeing him,” Jason says. “I just- I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Jay, for the last time, he’s never-”

There’s a knock on the door that cuts Dick’s speech short. They both freeze. Dick looks to the door, and then to Jason. Jason feels like he’s going to faint.

“It’s going to be okay,” Dick says, resolute. “Okay? Listen to me. I want you to go into the bedroom, okay? I want you to take loads of deep breaths. And I want you to stay in there unless you feel completely ready to see him.”

Jason’s bottom lip wobbles. “I don’t want to let him down.”

“You’re not letting him down, Jay,” Dick squeezes Jason’s shoulders. “I promise. You’re not. You’re gonna be alright.”

Someone knocks again. This time, Dick stands up, sipping in a deep breath.

“C’mon, Jay,” he says. “I’ll handle this, alright?”

Jason stands, and, taking a blanket with him, hurries into Dick’s bedroom. He keeps the door slightly ajar, and watches as Dick runs his hands through his hair, sighs, and opens the apartment door.

Bruce rushes in at a speed of noughts. Not Batman. Not armoured up. Just Bruce. And fuck, he looks old. His hair is a little bit grey, there’s bags under his eyes, and he’s not in clothes that look like they cost thousands. He’s in a navy hoodie and jeans, like he flung on the first items he found in a department store or something. And he looks desperate. Jason can see that just by looking at him. Just like he did in Ethiopia. And, by turning up here, Jason’s let him down all over again.

“Where is he?” Bruce asks, closing the door.

“Calm down,” Dick stops Bruce dead in his path. “Please.”

“Where?” Bruce says. He’s got his Bat-frown on.

Dick frowns. “Did you listen to a single thing I just said?”

“This isn’t some normal case,” Bruce pleads. “This is my son , Dick, I need to-”

“Bruce,” Dick puts his hands on his shoulders. “Listen. I know how you feel, but he’s a little freaked out right now, and I don’t know if he needs this.”

“Needs what?” Bruce pales a little. “Me?”

“No offence, Bruce,” Dick says. “But you’re not the most chilled out of people normally. Especially when a crisis is going on.”

Bruce visibly deflates. He looks so lost it’s unsettling. Jason’s never seen him this way. Never in a million years.

“Can you-” Bruce frowns to himself. “How is he? How did he seem to you?”

“Nervous,” Dick itches the back of his next. “Like, really nervous. He thinks you hate him for what happened in Ethiopia.”

“What happened-” Bruce’s face darkens with grief. “But Dick, he can’t possibly know what happened, he was-”

“I know,” Dick crosses his arms. “He means the shit before. The shit with Sheila. Disobeying you to find her.”

Bruce looks down. “He...he blames himself for that?”

“Shit, Bruce,” Dick laughs, but it isn’t a happy one. “I used to blame myself every time something went moderately wrong during one of our cases. Even when it wasn’t personally related to me. You know how it was. Can you imagine how he feels?”

“Does he know?” Bruce presses.

“That his mother is dead, yes,” Dick looks away. “Not the other thing. I- I couldn’t.”

Jason frowns. What other thing? Is it about his mom? Is it something he needs to know? He knew they were keeping something from him!

“Where are the others?” Dick asks, anxious to change the subject.

“In the Cave,” Bruce says. “I only saw them briefly. Told them to stay there.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Dick says. “He nearly exploded when he saw Tim and Damian. Not that they made it difficult for him to do so.”

“I’ll talk to them about it later,” Bruce starts looking around the apartment. “Are you sure I can’t see him?”

“I told him to come out if he feels comfortable enough to see you,” Dick says. “And he hasn’t come out, so…”

Bruce stares at the carpet. He looks very small right now, which is ridiculous, because Bruce has fought monsters and serial killers and aliens and gods…

“I shouldn’t have come,” Bruce says. “I should’ve known this would’ve been too much. Could you imagine? Being thrown out of time, and then having your dad show up…”

He looks so downcast in that moment that Jason can’t help himself. He opens the door and steps out of the bedroom. All eyes flash to him instantly.

“Hi,” Jason says, weakly.

Bruce’s face is hit with emotion. He takes a step forwards, his eyes wide, and his lips trembling. “Jay?”

“Dad,” Jason greets.

There’s a pause, in which Bruce studies him intently, lips slightly parted. Dick watches them both, prepared to leap between them if necessary. But it’s not. Bruce just takes a few slow steps forwards, his blue eyes wide, and his expression teetering between grief and joy.

“Jay,” Bruce staggers forward. “I- I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here earlier, but I was off planet, and I-”

Jason’s chest starts to heave. It’s all too much. He just wants his dad.

Fuck it.

He runs forward, cutting Bruce’s explanations short, and throws himself into his father’s arms. There’s a moment of shock, in which Jason just clings on for dear life around Bruce’s neck. But then Bruce comes to his senses, wrapping his arms around him.

“I missed you,” Jason says.

“I missed you too, kiddo,” Bruce says.

“I know it’s been longer for you,” Jason croaks. He feels like he’s on the brink of tears. “It’s just- it was just yesterday, and everything’s been so crazy-”

“It’s okay, Jay,” Bruce lets go of him and holds onto his shoulders. “Trust me. It’s been a wild ride for everyone.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Jason says. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“We are going to figure out what happened to you,” Bruce promises.

“I don’t know why you would,” Jason rubs at his eyes. “You guys fucking hate me.”

Bruce pauses in shock, and shares a glance with Dick, who shrugs.

“Jay, we don’t hate you,” Bruce says, frowning. “Why would you say that?”

“You guys don’t fucking talk to me anymore!” Jason protests. “Dick said he doesn’t know where the current me is right now, and nobody will tell me about him-”

“We don’t hate you. Past or future,” Bruce looks to Dick for support, who nods.

“You’re just doing your own thing at the moment, is all,” Dick says.

Jason crosses his arms, not satisfied. “That sounds like bullshit to me.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” Dick says. “Isn’t it, Bruce?”

Bruce meets Jason’s gaze. “Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Bruce sighs. “It’s not good to know about your future, Jay. Trust me. I’ve dealt with time travel before.”

“That’s just another bullshit way of saying no!” Jason yells. “I’m sick of people telling me no! Why can’t anyone be honest with me?”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. It takes him a moment to reply. Dick looks like he’s on the brink of exhaustion, and at this stage, he’s taken a seat on the sofa beside the door.

“Listen, Jay,” Bruce says, squeezing Jason’s shoulders. “Right now, our main priority is finding out how to get you home.”

“So you don’t have to deal with me,” Jason rolls his eyes.

“No,” Bruce presses. “Because you need to get back to your time. Because we don’t know what other side effects might be flying around with you being here. Not to mention the other people in your timeline will be very worried about you right now…”

“Do you want him back so bad?” Jason asks. “Your Jason?”

“We don’t even know if he’s here right now, Little Wing,” Dick says. “Tim went to your- his- apartment, searched through most of his safehouses-”

“You mean the phoney?” Jason hisses.

Bruce looks between Dick and Jason in despair.

“I don’t want him going around my shit!” Jason yells. “Past or present. You hear me?”

“Jason, we have to know if your current self- your future self- is still here. If not…”

He stops dead.

“What?” Jason asks.

“If not, he could be where you were,” Bruce says. “Do you understand? He could be in Ethiopia right now, about to rescue your mother. Do you understand how that could be bad?”

Jason feels numb. He looks between them in confusion. “No?”

Bruce emits another sigh. Dick looks like he wants to leap out of the window.

“Listen, if he’s there-” Jason says, trying to understand, “then he’s with my Bruce. And they’re together. And they- they can help each other. They might even save my mom!”

Bruce looks pained. He just tugs Jason into a hug again and holds him there.

“Right?” Jason asks. “They might save my mom! I mean, he’s got to, right? He’s still me! And he still loves her!”

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Bruce says, still hugging him. He lets him go after a moment. “Dick said you wrote down the first thing that happened here, in this time?”

“Yeah,” Jason itches at his arm. “The weird guy in the purple pants.”

“We’re going to try and find him, okay?” Bruce says. “Because he’s integral in finding out how you got here.”

“Great,” Jason smiles. Finally, something familiar. “I wanna come too.”

Bruce shakes his head. “Out of the question.”

Dick scowls from the corner. “Bruce…”

“No,” Bruce says. “This is non-negotiable. You don’t know this new Gotham, your suit is outdated, I can’t put you in danger-”

“What do you mean?” Jason asks. “I’m Robin, man! I don’t give a fuck about danger!”

“Jay,” Bruce presses. “I’m not arguing with you over this. A lot of things have changed.”

“Well, tell me how they’ve changed,” Jason says. “I wanna help.”

“He could help out, Bruce,” Dick offers. “Holding him in the mansion isn’t gonna help anyone.”

“Yeah!” Jason nods. He needs this. He needs to have some control again. Especially after everything that’s been going on…

“Maybe,” Bruce says. “But for now- you’re staying with Alfred and Oracle.”

Jason scowls at that. Man. He can’t believe he’s getting benched, all over again…

And then it hits him.

“Who the fuck is Oracle ?”

Chapter Text

THEN

Jason must fall asleep on the journey back, because when he wakes up, the plane’s on route to the cave. He can hear the bats flying past the Batwing as it lands; hear them scraping past the windows and doors. The sound’s so familiar that for a minute he blacks out, losing himself in memories of late night battles, early morning patrols, and endless training missions. But then the back of the plane opens, bringing him back to himself. As the car floods with light, he climbs out of it, and then from the plane itself.

“Hello?” He calls.

No sign of Bruce. But the cave’s lights are on, and someone must’ve opened the plane door, right?

“Is anyone-”

“Jason!” A voice yells. “Holy fuck!”

Jason turns just in time to be ambushed. A pair of very blue arms are thrown around him, he’s overwhelmed by the smell of chocolate, and there’s so much hair in his face there’s only one person it could be…

“Dick?”

Dick pulls away from him. His eyes are large, his smile is even larger, and he’s currently poking every fucking inch of Jason’s face…

“Is it you?” He asks, still prodding. “Oh my God! Is this really, really you?”

“Yes!” Jason snaps. God, he forgot how annoying Dick used to be. Sure, he’s annoying now, but everything’s so much worse when it’s clad in sparkly blue and gold… “How the fuck are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Dick’s smile fades.

“You’re meant to be off planet,” Jason says.

“Oh, that,” Dick takes a step back. “Well, Bruce put through a message on high priority about this, and he’s called us all here, so there’s that…”

Wow. So he actually updated Dick this time around. When Jason died the first time, Bruce didn’t tell him a fucking thing. Jason’s glad to see he’s created some positive change for once...

“But you guys,” Jason says, frowning. “You’re not talking.”

Dick looks away. “Yeah.”

There’s a beat of awkwardness. Jason itches at the back of his neck. Well, if Dick’s here, that’ll surely explain Bruce’s mysterious absence. He’s probably still in the plane, examining the car or anything that isn’t confronting his oldest son right now.

“But you’re here!” Dick pipes up, forcing happiness. “And oh my God, you’re so tall! And you look so old!”

Jason bats his hands away. “We’re the same age, Dickhead.”

“Bruce says it might be time travel displacement,” Dick says. “Like- our you could be where you’re currently supposed to be right now.”

“Yeah,” Jason says.

“That...that sounds like it sucks.”

“Yeah,” Jason says.

And what was an awkward encounter covered by Dick’s over excitement is now just an awkward moment...and Dick’s beginning to feel it too.

“Well- I’m glad you’re here,” Dick says. “I mean- even if it’s not the you we expected . I missed you.”

“You do know it’s been a while for me, right?” Jason grimaces.

“Well, yeah,” Dick mumbles. “But, you know. I still missed you.”

Jason rolls his eyes and walks towards the medbay. If he gets Dick to walk far enough from the plane, maybe Bruce will finally make an appearance.

“I didn’t miss that outfit,” Jason says, just to be petty.

Dick runs to catch up with him. “Hey!”

“Not to be mean or anything,” Jason says, “but it’s fucking dreadful.”

“It’s lively,” Dick argues. “And expressive. Unlike the gear some people wear.”

“Wow,” Jason gasps. “Past Dick is petty Dick. Noted.”

“I’m not being petty,” Dick scowls. “I can’t just can’t stand that moody all black look.”

“Oh boy,” Jason smiles. “Have I got news for you…”

Dick’s face goes pale. “No.”

“Yes,” Jason nods.

“I- in the future-”

“Yup,” Jason grins. “You wear black. Well- nearly all black. You’ve got some blue accents thrown in here and there.”

“Well, that’s something,” Dick crosses his arms. “Can I ask- what is that?”

“What?”

“Your outfit- it’s-” Dick frowns. “You wear a red helmet now?”

“It’s technically a hood.” Jason sits on one of the chairs at the medbay. “A Red Hood.”

Dick stares at him in confusion for a second. Jason can already feel the lecture coming.

“I-I don’t understand,” Dick runs a hand through his outrageously long hair. “Did you choose that name on purpose- or-”

“Let’s just say, in my future, the Joker and I...we’ve got history.”

Dick’s eyes go wide.

“No, not like I dated him, Dick!” Jason puts his head in his hands. “Jesus fuck!”

“Well, what else did you expect me to think!” Dick squeals. “You said that in a weird way, and now-”

“Oh my God-”

“I’ve got this image in my head, and-”

“Let’s just forget this conversation ever happened,” Jason turns away. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Dick takes a seat opposite. He tucks his hair behind his ears. “How are you?”

“Seriously, Dick?” Jason raises an eyebrow. “How am I?”

“Well, yeah,” Dick shrugs. “You’ve been thrown through time. You’re bound to have some emotions.”

Jason sighs and rests his hand on his forehead. Should he be honest? Or…

“I’m okay,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, things have been wild,” Jason shrugs. “But hey. What’s new?”

Dick’s face darkens with grief. “Your life is wild now?”

“Says the man in blue sparkles.”

“No,” Dick reaches across the table, and takes Jason’s hand. “I’m serious. Is it wild now?”

“I’m a vigilante.”

“But you always wanted to do English,” Dick says. “Go to college. Get a degree.”

“You’re acting like I can’t read now,” Jason takes the hand away.

“Reading isn’t the same,” Dick says. “What happened to your dream?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jason shuffles, uncomfortable. “And anyway. You’re my age. You crimefight.”

“Yeah, but I went to college first.” Dick says. “And Hell. I didn’t even want to go at first. But you? You should’ve gone. You wanted to go more than anything. What happened, Little Wing?”

“Heh,” Jason smiles, looking away. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“Jason, I swear to God,” Dick says, completely seriously. “If I don’t call you Little Wing in the future, you need to kill me.”

Jason laughs, surprised. Out of all the things he expected to come out of Dick’s mouth right then...it wasn’t that.

“I sincerely hope I didn’t hear you correctly, Master Dick.”

Jason turns around so quickly his neck nearly snaps.

Standing at the top of the stairs leading to the medbay is Alfred. Young Alfred. Well, not really young, because Alfred’s never been young in the years that Jason has known him. But young-er.

“Alfie,” Jason says, his face splitting in half.

“Master Jason,” Alfred says, calmly coming down the stairs. “It is good to see you.”

“And you,” Jason says. “How have you been, Alfie?”

“As well as one can be expected,” Alfred says, approaching the table, “when one’s grandchild runs away, leaving nothing but a goodbye note.”

It takes Jason a moment to realise that he was only in Ethiopia in the first place because he ran away from home. God. How shitty. And far as Alfred is concerned, Jason being shitty to him is an incredibly fresh memory.

“I’m sorry, Alfie,” Jason says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know, dear child,” Alfred smiles. “Or- should I say adult now, young man?”

“Our Jay’s all grown up,” Dick grins, from beside them. “Look at him! He’s even dyed his hair!”

“I can’t say I’m impressed, Master Jason,” Alfred states. “It looks as though you’ve joined a rock band.”

“God, I wish,” Jason grins.

Fuck. He missed this.

“Not under my roof, I’m afraid,” Alfred raises an eyebrow. “Master Dick’s hairstyle is already pushing things as it is.”

“Hey!” Dick scowls. “It’s pretty!”

“I’m sure that’s what Miss Koriand’r tells you,” Alfred says.

“God, you guys-” Jason wipes at his eyes. “You’re just the same.”

“I’m not exactly sure what else you expected.” Alfred pats Jason’s shoulders.

“I dunno- I thought you’d be shocked. Or scared, or confused, or- mad at me, at least.”

“Aw, Jay, why would we be mad?” Dick frowns. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Jason grimaces, remembering Time-Twizzler, and how he’d taunted him... “Ehhhh…”

“Besides,” Alfred adds. “Master Dick and I have been through enough shock and confusion in the past twelve hours to last us a lifetime. I’m not sure how any more would help.”

“Sorry,” Jason squirms.

“Again,” Dick grabs Jason’s hand. “Not your fault.”

“We’re very glad to have you back, safe and sound, Master Jason,” Alfred smiles.

Safe and sound. Huh. That’s one way of putting it.

“So, you guys are both here…” Jason looks around. “Where’s Bruce?”

“Bruce is here,” Bruce pops up at the top of the stairs. “Meet me at the computer. Now.”

Dick grimaces. Alfred lets out a sigh. And Jason shrugs.

“Well, the more things change…” he says.

“You’re telling me he’s still like this?” Dick gapes. “In five years?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, now I’m not kidding,” Dick stands from the table. “Please kill me. Kill me right the fuck now.”

“Master Dick,” Alfred gives him a death glare of all time. “You are an adult, and you may do what you wish. But under this roof, you will abide by the rules. And those rules rule out any talk of that sort. Do you understand?”

Dick shrinks. “Yes. Sorry, Alfred.”

Alfred nods to himself and walks up the stairs.

Jason stands, and before joining Alfred, stops to elbows Dick in the ribs.

“You got killed, alright.”

“Fuck you,” Dick says. But he’s smiling.

Chapter Text

NOW

Jason is nervous all the way from Dick’s apartment to the Manor. Bruce isn’t answering any of his questions and he doesn’t know why. In fact, he’s not quite sure why a lot of things are happening- a fact that plummets his mood from confusion into downright anger.

“It’s okay, Jason,” Dick urges, from beside him.

Jason crosses his arms and scowls at the back of Bruce’s stupid head. “Fuck off.”

Bruce sighs. When they make it to the Manor, Jason refuses to leave the car for a solid five minutes. When they finally coax him out, he stomps up the stupid Manor stairs, bursts in, and is ready to start pestering Bruce for questions all over again when-

“Jason?”

He stops dead. In the hallway, wheeling up to the door, is Barbara. She looks different, though. Older. And her hair is short.

“Barb?” He asks, stunned.

She wheels right up to him and pulls him into a hug. He stands there, confused. The last time he saw Barb...she was in hospital. Right after the Joker shot her. And now...

“You’re...up,” he says, dazed.

She moves away and smiles up at him. “Yes.”

“In a...wheelchair.”

“Yes,” Barbara tucks her hair behind her ear. “I have been for some time.”

“Whoa,” Jason breathes. He takes a step back, completely disoriented. “Well. Um...I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Barbara smiles. “Do you mind if we go to the dining room?”

Jason steps fully into the house, allowing Dick and Bruce to walk in behind him. But they’re standing apart from him. Giving him space. Why, he has no idea...

“Hey. In the past...I promised to help you,” Jason says, eventually. “Get better, I mean.”

“Oh, Jay,” Barbara looks up at him. Her eyes are wet behind her glasses. “That was a very long time ago.”

“Not for me,” Jason says. “And like- I know it was stupid, but- you were meant to start using a wheelchair about the time I left for Ethiopia, and it was the Joker all over again, and I just-”

“Jason,” Barbara takes his hand, and squeezes it. “I got through it. It happened. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason says. He feels very faint and cold all of a sudden. He keeps hoping that one bit of his life...no matter how small and inconsequential...will be the same. But it hasn’t. Not even Barbara’s the same.

“It’s okay, Jason. Trust me,” Barbara smiles. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I’m never not safe,” Jason flushes. “I’m the Boy Wonder, remember? The one who laughs at danger?”

“Oh, yes,” Barbara rolls her eyes. “That old Jason snark. I’ve definitely missed that.”

“I’m not snarky, now?” Jason follows her into the dining room.

“Well,” Barbara laughs, “yes. But not as much as you used to be.”

The dining room looks the same. Too much of the same. Like they’ve edited it to make him feel better. Jason walks around with his eyes narrowed, trying to find something out of place. It doesn’t take him long.

“Jason?” Barbara asks. “Is something wrong?”

It’s too late. Jason’s already running to the mantelpiece and snatching the family photo from it. Wow! There are so many people on it now. He recognises Bruce...Alfred...Dick...Barbara...but so many kids on that he doesn’t. And one face he completely doesn’t…

“Where am I?” He wonders, as Bruce and Dick walk in. “Where am I on this?”

There’s a beat of silence. Barbara gives Bruce a scalding look, and Dick just looks mortified.

“Oh- Little Wing-” he scrambles forwards, trying to make the best out of the situation. “That’s just- um. You were away.”

“Away?”

“Yeah,” Dick snatches the photo from his hands, and holds it nervously. “You, um. You couldn’t make it. Sorry.”

“To my own fucking family photo?” Jason scoffs. “God. What sort of a bum am I now?”

“It, um,” Dick puts the photo back, this time face down. “It was a long time ago.”

“Can’t have been that long,” Jason says. “You look about the same. And those weird kids are in it...”

Bruce pinches his nose. “Jason, listen, we-”

“Master Jason!”

Time stops. Jason spins around to see Alfred standing in the doorway, his face red, and his breathing laboured.

“Alfie!” Jason cries. He rushes forward and crushes him in a hug. “You’re here!”

“Yes,” Alfred says, rather weakly. His thin frame buckles under Jason’s weight. “I’m not quite sure where else I’d be.”

Jason pulls back. Something doesn’t feel right. “Alfie, are you sick?”

“On the contrary,” Alfred wipes his forehead with a handkerchief. “I’ve just had the pleasure of wrestling your brothers and sister from the premises.”

Jason scowls. “I have a sister too?”

Dick grimaces. “Was going to tell you, Little Wing…”

Bruce turns to him. “You’ve already told him too much.”

“What the fuck, Bruce?” Jason yells. “I have a right to know about my Goddamn family!”

“Ahead of your own time?” Bruce asks, calmly. “No.”

“Fuck you, old man!” Jason says. “When I get back, you’re gunna get Hell!”

“And that,” Alfred places a calm hand on Jason’s shoulder, “will be the end of that.”

Jason seethes. “But-”

Alfred gives him The Look. And Jason instantly quietens.

“Now,” Alfred says, looking to the room. “This is what’s going to happen. Master Bruce will go to the cave, taking the rest of his unruly mob with him. Master Dick and Miss Barbara will stay with you, Jason, while the investigation begins. And I will go into the kitchen and make dinner, as planned.”

There’s a silence in the room. Jason crosses his arms, scowling deeper.

“It’s not fair,” he mopes.

Bruce meets his eye. “Jay, we’re doing everything we-”

“I don’t wanna talk to you,” Jason spat. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t-”

“Alright, so you kept shit from me then! You didn’t tell me I had a sister!”

Bruce looks anguished. “Jason, it’s not-”

“You know I’ve always wanted a sister, Bruce! You know!”

“Alright, Master Bruce,” Alfred steps between them. “I think that’s quite enough damage for one day.”

Bruce makes a face at Alfred, like he’s going to retort, but then presses his lips together and walks out. Dick makes a hilarious face towards Barbara. And then he clears his throat.

“Uh...there’s some board games in the attic that I can go grab?” He says, looking towards Alfred. “If that would...help?”

“Yes, Master Dick,” Alfred smiles. “That would be very helpful.”

Dick dashes out of the room. Jason sighs angrily to himself.

“You can sit down, Master Jason,” Alfred smiles. “The room isn’t made, so to speak, out of lava.”

“It’s the floor, Alfie,” Jason says, wrinkling his nose. But he sits down regardless, and Barbara wheels up next to him.

“I don’t know if they told you what happened to me,” Barbara says, as Alfred starts kindling the fire. “After...you left for Ethiopia.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jason shifts, uncomfortably. “I’ll find out. When I get back.”

Momentary shock flashes over Barbara’s face.

“-of course,” she says, looking away. “Anyway...It took a while. But I’m helping out with the cause again.”

“As...Oracle?” Jason strains, thinking of the weird name Bruce told him earlier.

“Yes, exactly,” Barbara smiles. “I handle Bruce’s data network now.”

“Sounds sweet.”

“It is,” Barbara sighs. “So yeah. That’s where I am now. If that helped.”

“Helped?”

“I know how you must feel,” Barbara says. “When everyone around you has changed. And you’re painfully out of the loop. And they won’t stop trying to explain things to you like you’re a baby.”

“Oh, Barb, it isn’t the same,” Jason says. “I’m confused, but I’ll be okay. What you went through-”

“Jason,” Barbara says, smiling. “You don’t have to. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Jason deflates. “I missed you, you know.”

“Right back at you, Boy Wonder,” Barbara ruffles his hair. 

Dick comes rushing in, a stack of boxes the height of his entire torso in his arms. He drops half of them at the doorway, and throws the rest onto the floor in front of Jason in blatant victory. He looks exhausted though. God, what is it with this timeline and people always being exhausted?

“That,” Dick heaves, holding his stomach, “hurt.”

“You know there are elevators in this place, right?” Barbara looked at him critically.

“Yeah, but,” Dick sat on the floor, still panting, “Alfred’s in there.”

“And that’s a problem?”

Dick cracks a smile. Barbara looks between them, giggling. 

“Alfred is also a cat, Jason.” She says. “Damian’s cat.”

“Oh,” Jason scowls.

“Jay doesn’t like Damian right now, Babs,” Dick says, sorting through the pile of board games in front of him. “They had a little, um, altercation earlier.”

“It wasn’t an altercation,” Jason rolls his eyes. “They burst in. Freaked me out.”

 “To be honest, the Wayne boys can be half terrifying when they want to be.”

Dick looks up from the carpet, appalled. “Hey!”

“You should’ve seen him as Batman,” Barbara says. “First night on the job and he was already dangling criminals by their feet.”

“Hey,” Dick flushes. “That was a phase. We agreed not to talk about it.”

“It was hilarious,” Barbara says.

“I can’t imagine you as Batman,” Jason says. “You’re too…”

“Friendly?” Barbara suggests.

“My Batman was friendly,” Dick pouts, looking to Barbara. “Your dad loved me.”

“My dad loves everyone,” Barbara rolls his eyes. “Also, I hope you’re not seriously suggest we play Twister.”

“It’s the only game I’m good at,” Dick pleads.

“Nope,” Barbara grins. “You’re with me, right, Jason?”

Jason thinks about it. And then he bursts out laughing.

“The last time I played it with Roy. And he tore his pants in half. So no thanks.”

“Sounds like a horrible image,” Dick says, putting the box to the side.

“It was,” Jason says. “I miss him. Is he still with the Teen Titans?”

“Nah,” Dick shrugs. “He’s with the Titans.” 

Jason scowls. “What’s the difference?”

“The Titans are dark. And mysterious.” Barbara grins.

“And not-teens?” 

“Yup.” 

“What’s the line-up?” Jason asks. “Besides Roy, I mean?”

“Uh,” Dick itches at his neck. “It changes from time to time. But it’s currently me, Donna, Roy, Gar-”

“Gar!” Jason claps. “Man, I love Gar! Can he still turn into dinosaurs?”

“I-” Dick pauses. “I guess so?”

“Awesome,” Jason says. “Y’know...maybe this universe isn’t so bad after all.”

Chapter Text

THEN

“This time traveller you spoke of,” Bruce starts talking before Dick, Jason and Alfred can even reach the computer, “this...Time-Twizzler.”

Jason fights the urge to laugh. He crosses his arms, trying to emulate how serious Bruce is being right now. “Yes.”

“Searches in the database have found no sign of him,” Bruce brings the search up on screen. His cowl is off, and his hair is everywhere. “But a purchase of the outfit you described was made yesterday...by a certain Ronald B. Wenkinson.”

Dick and Jason meet eyes. Jason snorts, and Dick’s mouth quivers, like he’s trying his very best not to laugh.

Bruce ignores them both. “I’ve tracked his credit card to a Park Row address.”

“Hey,” Jason takes a few steps forward. Bruce’s zooming in on a battered up house. “That’s not too far from where I used to live.”

“I’m going to check it out,” Bruce turned on the spot. “You three stay here. Let me know if you hear anything.”

“Bruce,” Dick starts, frowning. “Hey. Bruce.”

Bruce ignores him and walks towards the car. Alfred sighs.

“He’s fucking impossible,” Dick says, looking to Jason.

“Let me try,” Jason shrugs. He’s gonna be honest. He’s not used to being the one in Bruce’s good books. It’s almost putting him on edge. “Bruce! Hey!”

He runs after him. Bruce is getting in the car, his jaw tight. He’s pulled the cowl on.

“Hey,” Jason pleads, banging on the window. “C’mon. You can’t go alone.”

“I. Am. Batman,” Bruce looks at him.

“Yea, and I’m Jason,” Jason hits the window again. “Let me come.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know you.”

“Yeah, well. I know you,” Jason says. “And I also know you haven’t slept in days. And when’s the last time you ate? Ethiopia? It was breakfast, right?”

“All that matters,” Bruce states, looking straight ahead, “is getting Jason back.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason crosses his arms. “You can’t do that if you’re not at your best. And who was telling who about confronting someone dangerous alone?”

“That was the Joker,” Bruce says. “This- this is some nobody.”

“Aaand you’re underestimating your opponent,” Jason grins. “That’s strike two. Do you wanna rack up any more while you’re at it?”

Bruce lets out a tight breath. Stubborn as always. Ooookay.

“Listen, if you don’t want me to tag along, I’m sure I can ask Dick…”

Bruce opens the passenger door and grunts. “Get in.”

-

They drive in silence. Mostly because Bruce is angry and upset and worried, and because of these three things he doesn’t want to talk. That’s fine with Jason. He’d give anything nowadays for some silence from Bruce. It’s mostly just “don’t do this, Jason,” this, and “don’t do that, Jason” that. He misses when things were simpler.

“Hey,” Jason looks over. They’re nearly at Park Row now. “Got anything to eat in this car of yours?”

Bruce grits his teeth. “No.”

“You used to have raisins,” Jason points out. He remembers that, alright.

“You ate them,” Bruce says. “Past you. In Ethiopia.”

“Oh,” Jason says, deflated. “Alright.”

Bruce continues to drive. Jason crosses his arms and lets out a sigh.

“Y’know, I think there’s a few fast food places around here.”

“Batman,” Bruce says, slowly, “does not eat ‘fast food’.”

“I know you’re worried,” Jason says. “I am, too. But that doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself.”

“I am not ‘punishing myself’.”

“Bruce,” Jason looks at him blankly. “You’re forgetting I know you.”

Bruce’s mouth goes very small and tight. And then he sighs.

“I don’t know if you remember,” he says. “But past Jason...the last time I saw him...he was in a very emotional place. He wasn’t thinking straight. His mother…”

“Was in danger,” Jason nods. “I know. I was there.”

“If he’s still like that. In the future,” Bruce says. “Then...I don’t know what he’d do. What he’d be like. If he’d think rationally. If he’d be sensible. If he’d be safe...”

Jason swallows, hard. Shit. He hadn’t been thinking about that. He’d mostly been worrying about how extra future Bruce was going to be...

“I just think,” Jason pauses. “I just think I’d try and find you. If I could. Because I know I wanted my dad more than anything. Back in Ethiopia.”

Bruce’s face cracks with emotion. He glances to Jason, unsure. “Did you...find her? Your mother? I know you’re not supposed to...with the future, and all, but…”

“Yeah,” Jason looks away.

“So you did disobey me.”

“I don’t know why you expected me not to,” Jason points out. “She’s my mom.”

“I...I suppose that’s true,” Bruce looks away, embarrassed. “If it was my mother...I…”

He trails off, stopping the car. They’ve reached their destination. But Bruce hesitates. He’s finding it hard to keep his head in the game. To stay as Batman, and not break down completely and be Bruce. Jason understands.

“In your future?” He asks, looking up. “Did you...stay with her?”

“Bruce,” Jason says, softly. “In my future, my mother is dead.”

“Oh,” Bruce frowns. “Sheila? Or...Catherine?”

“Both of ‘em,” Jason shrugs. “It’s okay. I got over it.”

“I am...so sorry.” Bruce blinks, looking down again. He doesn’t seem sure on how to process all of this.

“Yeah, well,” Jason gets out of the car. “It’s life, right?”

Bruce follows him. They look up at the building, side by side.

“This the right place?” Jason asks.

“It should be,” Bruce says. He lifts his grapple and points it to the roof. “Do you…”

“You confiscated all of my shit, remember?” Jason looks at him. “While I was sleeping?”

“We still have to talk about the guns.”

Jason rolls his eyes. Bruce grabs him and grapples upwards.

“Wooh,” Jason says, as they land on the roof. “Forgot how slow these ones were.”

“Excuse me?” Bruce asks. “Slow?”

Jason shrugs, dangles from the roof, and then slides into the open window.

“Oh God,” he says, holding his nose. “This place smells.”

Bruce slides in next to him. He starts scanning the room, piece by piece. “Ronald B. Wenkinson should live here.”

“I don’t know anyone could live here,” Jason walks through the house. It’s messy as fuck. And cold as fuck, too… “Do you reckon he’s still paying his heating?”

“I don’t think anyone has paid the utility bills of this place for a long time,” Bruce says, filing through a pile of envelopes on the bedside table. “It’s owned legally by a Betty Hawthorne. That was, it was. She died five years ago.”

“Five,” Jason says, shaking his head. “Man. What is it with the fives?”

“Stay sharp,” Bruce says.

There’s a clattering sound from downstairs. Jason and Bruce glance at each other, eyes wide. Bruce nods minutely- and they slowly move onto the hallway and down the stairs. The connection is clear between them. It was then, it is now. Jason tries to ignore how natural this all feels. It’s been a long time since he downed a green cape. But he and Bruce make a good team. As Batman and Robin they were unstoppable. But since Jason died...it hasn’t been the same between them. Not that Jason wanted it to be. He’s no-one’s sidekick, not anymore. But he missed this. And deep down, he senses Bruce misses it too.

“Too tight! I knew it was- too tight! Goddamnit!”

Bruce frowns Jason’s way. “Is that-”

“Time-Twizzler,” Jason nods. The bastard.

As they grow closer, the living room comes into focus. There’s a man inside it. A man who is currently tugging on a pair of green leggings. Jason’s blood boils.

“And they gave me the wrong hat- I wanted a beanie, not a top hat, Goddamnit-”

“Ronald Wenkinson,” Bruce says, standing in the doorway.

“AAAH!” Ronald yelps. He jumps ten feet, and holds the nearest thing he can find- the beanie- in Bruce’s direction. “Batman!”

“We need to ask you some questions,” Jason says. He wishes he had his helmet on right now. It’d probably make the stupid git pee his pants.

“Get away from me!” Ronald says. “I’m not- I’m not ready!”

“The fuck you are,” Jason says, racing forwards. Bruce grabs his shoulder.

“Don’t,” he warns. “He’s unarmed.”

“He sent me five years into the fucking past,” Jason hisses.

“I did?” Ronald asks. He’s frowning now. “But that- that’s impossible. The orb- it’s only a prototype, it-”

“Where is it?” Bruce says, stepping forwards. “The orb?”

“I-” Ronald’s eyes go wide. “It-”

“He asked you a question, asshole,” Jason crosses his arms from behind Bruce.

Ronald’s eyes dart to the mantelpiece. Bruce approaches it, opens a box sitting there, and lifts out the orb. Jason steps forwards.

“That’s it,” Jason says. “That’s the fucking thing that sent me back! But it had a number on the top last time?”

“How does it work?” Bruce turns to Ronald.

Ronald’s legs start to shake. “Please. I’m just a trader, I found it at some weird market, I’m not here to start trouble-”

“How the fuck does it work!” Jason yells.

Ronald’s face goes very pale. “I- I can show you! Please! Just- don’t hurt me!”

He takes the orb from Bruce, hands trembling. Jason crosses his arms and stands as close to Ronald as he possibly can.

“I- I’ve only just started to use it,” Ronald confesses. “I was thinking about using it for- for superheroism. Or- or something.”

“Don’t,” Jason says.

Ronald quavers, turning to Bruce. “I think- the way it’s used depends on- how many years you want to change. Or what universe y-you want to visit. You know?”

“So you can go forward in time with it?” Jason asks. “As well as back?”

“Y-Yes?” Ronald asks. “I mean- I don’t know-”

“Five years?” Jason asks, getting closer. “Can you go back five years?”

“Jason,” Bruce warns.

“F-five?” Ronald asks. “Why, I’ve never tried anything that big before-”

“Jason,” Bruce says. “Back away from him.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Jason shoves him off. “Do it. Put it forward five years.”

“Are you sure?” Ronald says. “Because- I don’t know what will happen.”

“Jason,” Bruce tugs Jason away. “This is not what I intended on-”

“Back off, old man!” Jason yells. “I said, I know what I’m fucking doing-”

“There you go!” Ronald says. He’s beaming, and the orb in his hands is glowing green and puple. “I did it!”

“No!” Bruce yells, taking it out of his hands. “It’s going to explode, Jason, run!”

“Batman!” Jason says, rushing for him. “Bruce, no, drop it, it’s not a bomb, you’re going to-”

Jason manages to grab Bruce’s cape before the two of them are whisked away, the world swirling around them. They fall for a moment, yelling in unison, before they land. On a floor, from the feeling of it. A hard floor. A familiar floor. The manor floor...

Hang on.

The manor floor?

Jason looks up. The first thing he spots in front of him is Barbara. Her eyes are wide. Her face is pale. But she’s in a wheelchair. And...she’s familiar. The one he knows. Not the one he knew from the past...the one he should’ve known. And then he looks to the left. Dick is sat on the floor in front of him. Cross legged. A half played game of Monopoly next to him, his jaw slack.

“Who are you people?” Bruce says, from behind Jason. He’s standing up, in full Batman gear, ready to fight. “Dick? You look different, what-”

Bruce turns to Barbara.

“You’re out of hospital?” He asks. “How?”

“Holy,” Dick says. “Shit.”

“What’s going on, you guys?” A familiar voice calls from the hallway.

Jason sits up, his blood freezing. “Where is he?”

Dick’s eyes go wider. “What?”

“Jason,” Jason says. “Younger me. Where is he?”

“He went to get drinks?” Barbara asks, faintly. “From the kitchen?”

There’s a crashing noise from the doorway. The whole room turns and looks. Staring at Jason and Bruce from the doorway is...younger Jason. In one of Dick’s old jumpers. Young and tiny and just as he was before he’d died. But alive.

Jason can’t take his eyes off him. Younger Jason can’t take his eyes off him either. They stare, faces pale, at one another. Beside him, Bruce looks like he’s quickly going into shock.

“Jay?” He asks, looking to young Jason.

Young Jason just stares. His hands start to shake. He looks between Jason and Bruce with an incredible amount of fear and upset in his eyes.

And then he turns and runs down the corridor. Bruce runs after him, his big boots thumping on the floor. “Jason!”

Older Jason stares into space for five seconds. Then, he turns to Dick and Barbara.

“I’d say it’s a long story,” he says, grimacing. “But I think you might be able to tell.”

Chapter Text

JASON. FOURTEEN.

“Master Jason, if you could come down from there, I’m sure both Bruces would appreciate it.”

“No.”

“May I enquire why?”

“No.”

A pause. In the corner of Jason’s eye, Bruce comes hurdling around the corner, his cape all over the place.

“Jason!” He looks upwards. “Why is he up there?”

“To hide from you, I presume.”

Bruce gapes, looking between them. “He’s not doing a very good job.”

Alfred pinches his brow. “I’m not sure doing a good job was his intention.”

“You fucking replaced me!” Jason yells.

Bruce steps forwards. “What?”

“With the other one! The other Jason!”

“I-” Bruce opens his mouth, and shuts it, in quick succession. “What?”

“He’s your Robin!”

Alfred blinks in disapproval. “I don’t think that’s the case, young sir.”

“He’s his sidekick now!” Jason yells, pointing. “I saw them! They appeared!”

“We had to work together,” Bruce explains. “To get back here. And find you again.”

Jason crosses his arms. He’s currently sat on top of one of the ginormous bookcases in the library. Is he entirely sure of how he’s going to get back down? No. But that’s not the point. The point is he’s upset, and everyone else can go fuck himself for all he’s concerned. He doesn’t want to see Alfred, he doesn’t want to see Bruce, and he certainly doesn’t want to see the older version of himself that’s running around. It’s too much. He just wants to go home .

“Promise me,” Jason says.

“I promise,” Bruce says. He takes his cowl off and holds his arms wide.

“You realise if I jump from this height I’ll die,” Jason says.

Alfred visibly flinches. Bruce looks between them and sighs.

“Is there a ladder?” He asks. “There’s still a ladder here, right?”

“If you’re asking if some of us still use the old fashioned way of gaining height,” Alfred gives him a critical look. “Then yes.”

Bruce flushes pink.

“I will get it immediately,” Alfred looks up to Jason. “In the meantime, try not to damage yourself, Master Jason.”

“I’ll try,” Jason says, rolling his eyes.

Alfred leaves. Jason glares down at Bruce, legs swinging. Bruce wrangles his hands in his gloves and tries to think of something to say. His face is pale.

“I know about my mom,” Jason says.

Bruce’s eyebrows fall. “I’m so sorry, Jason.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“No.”

“I’ll find out,” Bruce says. “I promise.”

“Did you find the Joker?” Jason asks.

“Find the-” Bruce startles. “No. Well, yes. There was an explosion. I don’t know where he is now.”

“I hope he died,” Jason says.

“Jason!”

“What?” Jason crosses his arms. “It’s not hard to put two and two together. The Joker was there, my mom was there, he was threatening her, things went wrong-”

“You can’t make statements like that,” Bruce says. “We don’t know what went on in this timeline, this reality-”

“Who says this is a different reality?”

“I do,” a new voice says.

Jason looks down. Older Jason is there, standing in the hallway, his hair wild. Ew, there’s a streak of white running through it. And his clothes are all groggy. But there’s some sort of symbol on his chest. A red bat-symbol, maybe? Jason can’t tell. He’s got to admit that looks kinda cool. But he can’t help but hate this new Jason. He’s everything the younger Jason doesn’t want to be. And if the family doesn’t talk to him anymore...he must’ve done something bad to deserve it? Right?

“Nice hiding place,” old Jason says. He puts his hands in his pockets. “Looks efficient. Cosy.”

Bruce grimaces. “Jason-”

“What?” They say, at the same time.

Bruce sighs. “White streak Jason. This isn’t the time, or place.”

“White streak Jason?” Old Jason scoffs. “Excuse me?”

“You’re exasperating the situation.”

“He’s the one on top of the fucking bookcase!”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Jason yells. “You’re not Robin!”

“And did I say I wanted to be?” Old Jason asks. “Pipsqueak?”

“That is quite enough of that,” Alfred says, ladder in hand.

He walks between Bruce and Old Jason and props the ladder up. Jason glares at older Jason. He hates him. He doesn’t know why. But he hates him.

“I’m not doing it in front of him,” Jason declares.

“Teenage rebellion,” Old Jason scoffs. “Classic.”

“Master Jason, please,” Alfred sighs.

“I’m Master Jason!” Jason says. “Not him!”

“If you’d like to make for the exit,” Alfred says, still looking at Old Jason.

“I could,” Old Jason says, scoffing.

“You will,” Alfred says. “And Master Jason. If you’d like to make your way down the ladder. Master Bruce will be here any second.”

“There’s two?” Bruce asks.

“Yes,” Jason says.

“Yea, and he’s turning grey.” Old Jason says to Bruce. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bruce sighs. “I am so confused.”

“A sentiment we can all share,” Alfred waves towards Jason. “Now, young sir. If you’d like to come down from that ridiculous height. There are unexpected guests staying in this house tonight, and I am yet to finalise a choice in menu.”

JASON. NINETEEN.

“And your hair was long. Like, mega long.”

“Really?” Dick asks, over the table. “Holy shit.”

“And Alfred-” Jason leans in. “Alfred had hair.”

“I can hear you, Master Jason,” Alfred says, pouring him a cup of tea. “And Master Jason, would you like any tea?”

“No,” Young Jason says, sourly, from the other side.

For whatever reason, Alfred has gotten the whole family to gather around the dining table. Well. Both Jasons and Bruces. The rest of the family are staying at Barbara’s, because apparently the young Jason kinda hates them. Which is hilarious. Because Jason knows for a fact that young Jason and the rest of the gang would get on like a house on fire.

“I’ll have four sugars, please, Al,” young Bruce says.

He’s got his head in his hands. Yeesh. Sorry, Bruce.

“Weren’t you the one always telling me to go easy on the sugar?” Jason says, trying to lighten the mood.

Young Jason glares at him. Young Bruce smiles.

“When I last said that, you were a twelve-year old boy with a tendency to have sugar highs,” he says, accepting the tea from Alfred, “I am a very, very confused thirty four year old.”

Jason snorts. Young Jason rolls his eyes.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” he says.

“We’re not,” Jason points out. “Technically, we’re talking about me.”

“I’m you, dipshit,” young Jason seethes. “And you’re me.”

“Master Jason!” Alfred hisses.

“Nah, it’s fine, Alfie,” Jason bats his hand. “I can take it. Pipsqueak’s harmless.”

“At least I don’t have poliosis,” young Jason spits.

“I-” Jason opens his mouth. “What?”

“Poliosis,” Bruce offers. “The decrease or absence of melanin in head hair, eyebrows, eyelashes or any other area of hair.”

“Man, I wish it was that,” Jason laughs, and then realises they don’t know, so quickly shuts up. “How’d you know such big words, anyway? I didn’t know such big words when I was Robin.”

“Maybe I’m just smarter than you.”

“Wanna bet?” Jason asks. “What’s the square root of five hundred and sixty seven?”

“Masters,” Alfred sighs. “This really isn’t necessary.”

“Twenty three,” young Jason snarls.

“Hmm,” Jason grins. “Technically it’s twenty three point eight one one seven si-”

“That’s not fair!” young Jason yells. “You rehearsed that!”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Bruce,” Jason laughs. “Tell him. When on our amazing, incredibly interesting journeys did I have time to memorise the square root of-”

“You went on journeys?” young Jason’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, yeah,” Jason grins.

“How many?”

“Tons.”

“Jason,” Dick says, shoving him. “You are a shit.”

“No,” young Jason says, “you’re an asshole! What journeys did you go on!”

Jason just laughs. Oh boy. This is just too fun to resist…

“We didn’t go on any journeys, Jay,” Bruce says, looking beyond tired. “We found Time-Twizzler and he brought us here. That is all.”

“Oh,” young Jason sinks in his seat. “Wait. Is that the green weird guy I met?”

“You met him?” Jason sits up.

“What’s it to you?” young Jason hisses.

“For the last time,” Alfred scolds. “Masters. Be civil.”

The door to the dining room swings open. Old Bruce, in his full Batman gear, comes in, dripping everywhere from the rain, and throws a body onto the carpet. Everyone at the table stands. And for the first time that night, Jason actually feels nervous.

“Bruce?” He asks, stunned.

“This is Time-Twizzler,” Old Bruce says, ignoring him. “He didn’t have the orb on him. Claims that it’s broken. But I’m sure he’ll find us another.”

“My God,” young Bruce says, stepping forwards. “What did you do to him?”

Old Bruce looks up. His eyes are dark, his mouth hardened. “He’s tranquillised.”

“Tranquillised?” Young Bruce asks. “He looks dead!”

“He’s not, don’t worry,” Jason assures him. “Killing isn’t this Bruce’s style either.”

Old Bruce grunts, picks up Time-Twizzler, and leaves the room. Alfred curses under his breath at the wet trail he’s left behind before following him.

“He looks...insane,” young Bruce mutters.

“He’s fine,” Dick says. “He’s just...different. Is all.”

“Ol’ Bruce is a little bit more hardened, as Alfred would say,” Jason sits down, already exhausted. Great. The last thing he needs is a fucking lecture from old Bruce when all of this is over…

They all sit down, apart from young Jason, who remains standing. He stares at the wet patch Time-Twizzler left, and turns to young Bruce with wet eyes.

“You didn’t even look at me,” he says, voice wobbly.

“What?” Young Bruce asks.

“You,” Jason points to the door. “The...older you. You didn’t look at him. Even check to see if he’s okay.”

Young Bruce looks to Jason, stricken. Jason sinks further into his chair and sighs.

“I heard things were rocky,” young Jason says. “But you’ve just travelled through time, you’ve been gone, and you’re his son, and he didn’t even-”

“Drop it, kiddo,” Jason says. “It’s fine. I’m over it.”

“You shouldn’t be!” Young Jason says. “He’s your dad! He was nice to me!”

“I’m not fucking surprised,” Jason says. Dick gives him a warning look.

“Listen, Jay,” Dick clears his throat. “Things are different here, and you and Bruce aren’t as close as-”

“He won’t even look at you!” young Jason says.

“I am aware,” Jason grits.

“Don’t you care? Aren’t you going to- do something? Ask him why?” young Jason’s bottom lip starts to tremble. “If you’ve fallen out, you can fix it!”

“Oh, please,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You don’t know shit about what’s happening here.”

“I know that your dad’s ignoring us, and he shouldn’t be!”

“He’s not ignoring you,” Jason says. “He’s ignoring me!”

Silence. Young Jason stares, wide-eyed, across the table.

“I went too far last week,” Jason says. “It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Young Jason asks.

Jason looks up. Both him and young Bruce are staring at him, mouths open, waiting for an explanation. Ah well. He may as well give it to them.

“I’m meant to be off duty,” he explains. “I’m not meant to be...out there. Doing patrol. But last week I did, because he told me not to...and he got mad. Really mad. We haven’t talked since.”

“You’re...grounded?” Young Bruce asks.

“Yeah,” Jason shrugs.

“But...Time-Twizzler.” Bruce says, confused.

“I got a lead on him,” Jason says. “From last week. I couldn’t ignore it. People’s lives were on the line. Kids were in danger. I couldn’t just…”

He trails off, looking at the floor. He wants to cry all of a sudden, and he doesn’t know why. Fuck.

“I know I could’ve just called Dick or something,” Jason admits. “But I just...I didn’t want to. I wanted to do something on my own for once.”

“Like saving Sheila,” young Jason says.

“Yeah,” Jason says. “So I went after Time-Twizzler. And we all know how that turned out.”

“I am so sorry, Jason,” Young Bruce looks away. “I...I know things have gone on. And that I...I must’ve changed, or that this is a different Bruce, or whatever. But to not talk to you at all, because of that...I am sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Bruce,” Dick says. “And it’s not Jason’s either. It’s just...a misunderstanding.”

“You disobeyed an order,” young Jason says, looking at his older counterpart. “To save someone.”

“Yeah,” Jason says.

They meet eyes for a moment, both thinking of her. Sheila.

And then the moment ends. Jason stands up and brushes down his jeans.

“Listen, Bruce is here now. So I better not be,” Jason says. “Have a safe...travel home, or whatever.”

“You’re leaving?” Dick asks.

“Uh,” Jason says. “Yeah.”

“But you got us into this!” Young Jason says. “You can’t just leave.”

“Listen, I’m sure you guys can figure it out on your own,” Jason says. “This place is tense enough without me in the mix, let alone…”

“Robin doesn’t quit, asshole,” young Jason says. “You’re staying.”

“Yeah, well, newsflash, kid,” Jason says. “I’m not Robin. Haven’t been, for quite some time.”

He tucks his chair in as he leaves.

“Say bye to Alfred for me.”

Chapter Text

JASON. FOURTEEN.

It’s quiet in the Manor the following night. Old Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Young Bruce won’t leave Jason alone. Not that Jason minds that. He missed Bruce. But he can’t help but feel tense. Ever since old Jason left no-one’s talked to him, and even the people who do talk, like Alfred and Dick, are making more of an effort to hide something. He just doesn’t know what.

“You can take your armour off, you know,” he says.

Bruce is standing by the window. His Bruce. He’s been staring out of it for a while. They’ve been told to stay upstairs in the Manor while everyone else figures out this whole Time-Twizzler thing. And Bruce isn’t okay with it- Jason can tell. Bruce can barely handle being told what to do by other people, let alone himself. An such a mean version of himself too.

“I know,” Bruce admits. He puts his hands on his hips and sighs. They’re in one of the guest rooms. Which is stupid. Because Jason doesn’t want to be here. He wants to be in his room. With his Alfred.

“You can’t help,” Jason offers. “I know you want to. But it’ll just make stuff worse.”

“This is a tense reality,” Bruce agrees.

“Yeah,” Jason plays with the pillow in his lap. “I mean, I guess it’s just like you and Dick.”

Bruce turns around. “What?”

“Y’know,” Jason shrugs. “The fighting. The tension. It’s sorta like that. But it’s just with us this time.”

“But it’s not us us,” Bruce says. “We’re not like that. We’re not going to get like that.”

“Did you say that to Dick too?”

Bruce turns back around. He crosses his arms.

“Jason...me and Dick...we don’t hate each other. I hope you know that.”

“It’s hard to know that,” Jason says. “You barely talk to each other.”

“We just disagree on a lot of things at the minute.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t try,” Jason says. “I mean, look at what happened here! The old you doesn’t try! And now we hate each other!”

Bruce frowns. “I’m sure it’s not that simple.”

“Looks that simple to me,” Jason crosses his arms. “He didn’t even look at me. Him, I mean.”

“We don’t know the full picture,” Bruce sits on the corner of the bed. “We’re not them. We haven’t been what they’ve been through. Seen what they’ve seen.”

“Heard what they’ve heard,” Jason rolls his eyes. “I know. But I just...I don’t know. I feel bad for them.”

“Me too,” Bruce agrees. He sighs, crossing his arms. “But it’s not our business. Not really. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Jason says. He stares at the floor.

“The old Jason,” Bruce says, softly. “He really isn’t my sidekick, you know.”

“I know,” An embarrassed smirk fills Jason’s face.

“And I wouldn’t replace you with him. In a million years.”

“You couldn’t,” Jason says. “He’s the same height as you.”

A laugh bursts out of Bruce. “What?”

“The sidekick has to be shorter than the main guy,” Jason says. “Otherwise it’s stupid.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Well,” Jason shrugs. “Me? Shorter than you. Dick? Shorter than you. Barb? Shorter than you. Jim? Shorter than you. I’m sensing a pattern…”

“Those are just people I’m close to,” Bruce says, completely serious, “who I just happen to be taller than-”

“Alright,” Jason grins. “Then picture a tall Jim Gordon.”

“What?”

“Bet you can’t.”

“Jason,” Bruce says, blinking. “Jim is six feet tall. That’s already pretty-”

“Taller.”

“What?”

“Imagine him taller.”

“I don’t-”

“Ten feet,” Jason says. “Imagine a ten foot Jim Gordon.”

Bruce stares at him for a moment. And then he bursts out laughing, his face turning red.

“You,” he says, standing up, “are a very strange child.”

“I’m right, though!” Jason says. “It would be weird!”

“It would be weird for anyone to be that tall.”

“Wow, rude,” Jason says. “Also, I can’t believe you know how tall Jim is. I’m telling.”

“It’s simple estimation,” Bruce says. “I didn’t hold a measuring tape against his head.”

“That’s even worse,” Jason says.

Bruce takes his cape off. Then, he looks towards Jason, immeasurable fondness in his eyes.

“I missed you, Jay,” he says.

“I missed you too,” Jason smiles, and throws a pillow at him. “Get some sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“The bags under your eyes are like craters, B,” Jason gets off the bed. “Go. Get some sleep. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, try and find some food or something,” Jason shrugs. “Go sleep. Please. I’ll be fine.”

Jason walks into the corridor, closes the door behind him…and almost immediately bumps into someone.

“Dami!” The boy yells.

Jason startles back. It’s someone new. Jesus. How many people live in this house, now, anyway?

“What?” Another seethes.

This one comes out of hiding behind a pedestal. Wait. Jason knows this one. Damian.

“You said he’d be asleep!” The boy on the ground says.

“I’m not a psychic, Duke!”

“Duke?” Jason repeats, eyes wide. “Wait. Who is Duke?”

“I’m Duke,” the boy on the ground grumpily concedes. He stands up and holds out a hand. “I was supposed to introduce myself, y’know, a normal way, but angry pants over here screwed it up.”

“I am not angry,” Damian scoffs, crossing his arms. “I am perplexed.”

“You don’t even know what that word means,” Duke says, and then turns to Jason. “You’re the new Jason, right?”

“I’m not new,” Jason says, taking the hand. “But yeah.”

“To us, you’re new,” Damian accuses. He takes a step closer, his hands behind his back. “Where is father?”

“What?” Jason blinks.

“Father,” Damian says. “The young one.”

“What’s it to you?” Jason asks. He frowns. “And why were you sneaking out here, anyway?”

“They wanted to see him,” a new voice says.

They all turn. A girl is standing at the end of the corridor. She runs over, smiling, and ruffles Damian’s hair on the way as she does so. He doesn’t like that one bit.

“I wanted to see him too,” the girl offers. “But not like this. Not- creepily.”

“This isn’t creepy, Cain,” Damian says. “We were being tactical.”

“Yeah, like that worked,” Duke snorts.

Jason points a finger at the girl, his brain putting the pieces together. “You’re my sister.”

The girl smiles. “Yes.”

“You’re...um,” Jason frowns. “Hang on. What’s your name again?”

“Cass,” she says, hands on her hips. “Sorry I’ve waited so long to meet you. Didn’t want to freak you out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Jason says. “I mean, I was. But you’d be freaked out if you went home, but it wasn’t really your home, and then there were a ton of people in there, right?”

“Right,” Duke nods.

“Anyway,” Damian clears his throat. “Is my young father in there? I’d very much like to examine him.”

“And that’s not creepy,” Duke shudders.

“What?” Damian shrugs. “I’m his son, I think I deserve the right.”

“The right to what?” A voice yells.

Duke, Cass and Damian all flinch. A second later, a blonde girl comes running down the hallway, panting wildly, her hair everywhere.

“Wow!” She says, coming to a stop. “You’re all here! I didn’t know you were all here!”

“That’s because you weren’t invited, Brown,” Damian says, and Duke elbows him.

“You’re just not...the quietest,” Duke tries to explain.

“I can be quiet,” the girl frowns. And then she spots Jason. “Oh my God!”

“What?” Jason shrinks.

“Look at him!” the girl squeals, coming forward. “He’s so tiny!”

“Don’t pinch his cheeks,” Cass says, holding her back. “That’s weird.”

“But look at him! Look- he’s just- it’s a mini Jason! Oh my God! Aww!”

“I am so sorry,” Duke says. “She’s not always like this.”

“He looks so cuddly!” The girl says. “And you know how our Jason is!”

“Uh…” Jason frowns. “Not...cuddly?”

“Yeah!” The girl says. “Exactly!”

“I sincerely hope that is not voices from the second floor I’m hearing,” Alfred calls, from the next floor up. “And certainly not the voices of people told specifically to remain on the upper floors…”

The girl’s eyes go wide. “Shit!”

Damian breaks into a run. Duke follows. The girl goes next, followed by Cass, who tugs Jason’s sleeve.

“Come on,” she says.

“Uh...okay?” Jason says. He runs along with them, because he’s not sure what else to do.

“This is all your fault, Brown!” Damian hisses.

“Please,” the girl says. “You were going to get caught some time or another.”

“Where are we going, guys?” Duke asks.

“Library!” Cass yells. “Library!”

They run downstairs and make a harsh turn into the library. Duke slams the door shut and they stand behind it for a moment, laughing and panting.

“That was crazy,” Jason says, bent double. “You guys are crazy.”

“I’m Steph, by the way,” the girl says.

“Are you a sister too?” Jason asks.

“Nah,” Steph says. “Not officially. I was Robin, and then I wasn’t Robin, and I was Batgirl, and now I’m not Batgirl…”

“I’m Batgirl now,” Cass smiles.

“Yeah,” Steph shrugs. “So now I’m just...around.”

“You were Robin?” Jason asks, sceptical.

“Yeah!” Steph says. “I mean...um...for about two weeks. But I was still Robin!”

“And then it was Damian,” Cass explains.

“It still is Damian,” Damian declares, proud.

“And then it was Duke,” Cass says.

“Unofficially,” Damian adds. “And without permission.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Jason puts his hands in his hair. “You’re Robin?”

Damian looks around, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “Yes.”

“But- you’re not- where’s the magic?”

Damian blinks. “Excuse me? The what?”

“The magic- Robin’s supposed to-” Jason takes a seat in an armchair nearby. “He’s supposed to have magic!”

Duke bites his lip. Steph puts her hands over her mouth, beside herself.

“What on Earth is magic supposed to mean?” Damian takes a seat on the floor in front of Jason. “Are you referring to literal magic? Theoretical magic?”

“I think he just means spirit,” Duke says.

“I have spirit,” Damian scoffs.

“He means spirit as in, Holy Cow Batman!” Steph says, putting on a squeaky voice. “Not spirit as in, determination to scare every criminal on the planet to death.”

Damian blinks. “You act like that’s a problem.”

“Maybe it’s not in this world,” Jason slumps further into his chair. “But in my world- things are happier.”

“Well, I guess it is further on in the timeline,” Duke shrugs, sitting down too.

“Do you guys know what’s going on right now?” Jason says. “About the case? And how I’m going to get home?”

“I know Bruce took T-T in,” Duke says. “And heard there was drama. But besides from that…”

“We’ve been told to remain out of the way,” Damian scoffs, upset. “Apparently we’re too distracting for the adults downstairs.”

“Damian,” Steph says, laughing. “The last time they let you down there you spent a whole half hour trying to convince Alfred to let you move the cow.”

“I wanted to show her to our new visitor,” Damian shrinks between his shoulders. “Dick said he was nervous. I wanted to help.”

“I’m not sure seeing a cow would’ve helped,” Duke says.

“Thanks for trying, though,” Jason says, uncomfortable. “I mean, having a pet cow does sound cool.”

“It is pretty cool,” Damian says. “You should get your Bruce to get you one.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason laughs. “Bruce can barely handle himself  at the moment.”

There’s a silence. Cass sits down next to Jason, frowning.

“What does that mean?” She asks. “Is he okay?”

Steph sits down too, hands in her hoodie pockets. “Can we help?”

“No- it’s not-” Jason flushes. “It’s not serious. He just. Him and Dick aren’t getting on too well right now.”

“Then our worlds aren’t too different,” Damian says. “That happened here too.”

“How did they get over it?” Jason asks, hopeful. “Did it just mend over time- or- is there anything I can do to make it better? I know it might not work, but they’re my dad and my brother, I can’t just-”

He pauses, looking at their faces. None of them are looking at him. They’re all staring at the ground or at the walls, ashamed.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s nothing,” Cass says. “I’m sure it’ll mend with time.”

“No- seriously,” Jason insists. “What is it? What can I do to help?”

“I’m sorry, Todd,” Damian says, voice very small. “It’s not your fault. But Richard and father- they only started talking again- after you died.”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

It’s about eleven fifteen that night when someone knocks on Jason’s door. He’s not surprised. He’s had his phone off for the past three hours. Something was bound to happen soon...

He answers the door with a beer in his left hand.

“What do you-”

He stops dead. Bruce is in the doorway. Not his Bruce, though. Young Bruce. And he’s in half Bat armour, and half normal clothes. Which is...jarring to look at. To say the least.

“Hello, Jason,” Bruce says.

“Bruce- what the-” Jason tugs Bruce into the house and slams the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Visiting you,” Bruce says, completely shameless.

“Your bat symbol- it’s showing!” Jason hisses.

Bruce looks down. He’s wearing one of normal Bruce’s fancy business jackets with the buttons done up, and a pair of matching, slightly baggy trousers. The armour is clearly visible underneath, though. God. It‘s a wonder he wasn’t spotted.

“It’s fine,” Bruce bats a hand. “No-one saw.”

“Why aren’t you out of it yet?”

Bruce itches the back of his head.

“You’ll laugh at the reason,” he says, “but I don’t have my key.”

“What?”

“I don’t…” Bruce crosses his arms. “I don’t know if you’ll remember. But back in the old days...well...your old days...I used a little key to unlock the top part of my suit. For security reasons.”

“Let me guess,” Jason says. “It’s at home.”

Bruce stares regrettably at the wall. “Unfortunately.”

“Well, it’s no problem,” Jason sits on the stairs. “Just get the other Bruce to fix it.”

Bruce’s mouth becomes a very small line.

“Or don’t,” Jason takes a swig of beer. “Cos your undying fear to ask or accept help will get in the way, and you’d rather spend the rest of your time here in a sweaty, uncomfortable metal prison than take the easy way out.”

Bruce frowns deeply. “How did you know?”

“You’re not too different,” Jason shrugs. “Plus, I know you. I knew you then too. Well- technically now. How did you find me?”

Bruce fiddles with his hands. “I...managed to hack some of the files.”

“Whoa,” Jason says. “The Batcomputer files?”

“Yes,” Bruce says, still frowning. “I didn’t manage to get much.”

“I’m surprised you got anything at all,” Jason says.

“I’m...not...” Bruce searches for the right words. “I work well under stress.”

Jason knows what Bruce is trying to say. He’s trying to say that when he’s nervous or stressed he tends to get paranoid, and when he gets paranoid he starts to dig. And when Bruce starts to dig, he finds it hard to stop. A fact the people of the Manor seem to have forgotten when they abandoned him to go work in the Cave. They should’ve let him help. Leaving him as a loose part isn’t helping anyone.

“Have you slept yet?”

Bruce frowns further. “Jason…”

“I’m serious,” Jason stands up. “If lil’Jay hasn’t pestered you about it yet he’s an impostor. You’ve got to arrest him on the spot.”

Bruce smiles at that. “You remind me of him so much.”

“We’re the same person, Bruce,” Jason says. “God. You really need to sleep.”

Bruce sighs and leans against the wall. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“How did you know I was here?” Jason asks. “I’ve got handfuls of safehouses. All of which are on the Batcomputer. But not this one.”

Bruce frowns. “You were...angry when you left. Stressed. And you run when you feel cornered, normally to places where you think people won’t be able to find you. So it would make no sense for you to go on any of the addresses that I...the other Bruce...would know you would be. Or could be.”

“Smart,” Jason says. “But here? Specifically?”

Bruce cranes his neck to look around. “I knew your mother’s family...Catherine’s family...left her a house. Before she died.”

“Yup.”

“Am I right in saying she didn’t know about it?”

“Nah,” Jason says. “She knew. She just didn’t care. They were rich assholes, the lot of them, and they left her in the dirt. Only offered her the home in exchange for her getting clean. Ditching her no-good husband. Throwing away her kid. I wish she had, to be honest.”

Bruce frowns. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Jason says. “Honestly. If she’d cut off all the dead weight she might’ve gotten out of Crime Alley one day. She could’ve lived here, in this posh-ass cottage. And, I dunno, married a rich guy or something.”

“You weren’t dead weight. You were her son.”

“I was the reason she died,” Jason shrugs. “It’s not hard to figure it out. She stayed with him because of me. Because she stayed with him she got addicted. If she’d listened to the assholes that gave her this house...she would’ve lived. Simple math.”

Bruce looks like he’s going to cry. Jason ignores him, however, and takes another swig.

“Anyway, I wanted to do it up,” he says. “When I got barred from patrolling and active duty and shit, I thought it would be a good idea. I was wrong. Managed to find some old pictures of mom though. They’re everywhere. Not put up very well, but they’re there.”

Bruce puts his hands behind his back. “Catherine, still?”

“Yeah,” Jason stands. “Of course.”

“But Sheila…”

“Sheila? As in Sheila Haywood?” Jason laughs. “God, Bruce. I stopped calling her my mother years ago.”

Bruce stands in the hallway, stunned, as Jason walks into the kitchen and gets another beer out. He follows him, steps fast and tense, expression furious.

“What do you mean?” He says. “When we left to find her- you were elated. You couldn’t wait to meet her.”

“Turns out she was rotten,” Jason says. “Want a beer?”

Bruce shakes his head. He stares at the floor of Jason’s kitchen, perplexed.

“What happened?”

Jason takes a seat at the table. He’s too tired for this shit. “Don’t ask me that.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t wanna know.”

“You know I do,” Bruce says, clutching tightly onto the back of a chair. “And I know I’m not the Bruce you know. Not anymore. But something’s eating you up and- I want to help.”

“Why, Bruce?” Jason laughs. “Why? You don’t give a shit about me. You’re not my dad, for God’s sake. There’s a very scared fourteen year old at the Manor right now. You’re his only anchor home. Go be with him. I don’t need you.”

“This might sound strange,” Bruce says. “But I’m your father too. And if yours won’t help- I will.”

“Oh, please,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re going home soon. None of this shit matters.”

“It does,” Bruce insists. “It does to me.”

“It won’t after two minutes,” Jason says. “Honestly. I’ll tell you two fucking things about me now and you’ll run.”

Bruce stares at him for a second. And then he pulls out a chair and sits. “Try me.”

Jason stares back. “You serious right now?”

“Yes,” Bruce says. “I am. Try me.”

“Okay,” Jason crosses his arms. “Fine. I’ve killed people.”

Bruce’s eyes flash wide for a second, and then he lets out a trembling breath. “How many?”

“Dozens,” Jason says. “I don’t know. Maybe hundreds.”

Bruce sips in a breath. “How?”

“How?” Jason asks. “Bullets, mostly. Sometimes bombs, when it’s easier. One time I even used a short-range missile. Or were you asking why?”

Bruce stares at the table like he’s going to be sick. Tears glass over his eyes. Eventually, he musters the voice to say- “Yes.”

“Because no-one else will,” Jason says. “Because- because putting criminals away doesn’t work anymore.”

“How can you say that?” Bruce asks. “After working with me. After Robin. After everything?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Jason says, completely calmly. “How can I say that?”

His hands start to tremble out of pure anger. He stands, gets himself another beer. He hasn’t even finished his last one yet. He itches at the back of his neck and pops off the lid.

“I say that,” Jason says, “because every night, my ‘father’ used to come home, come home and-”

He can’t finish. He drinks, puts down the bottle, and stares at the wall until his anger dies down.

“And after, sometimes, a neighbour would call the police. And then he’d just come back. Again and again and again,” Jason spits. “And it’s not just me. It’s the same, everywhere. And I stopped being able to take it. I just stopped.”

Bruce stares at him, shocked. He breathes out, his shoulders shrinking, and places a hand on the table.

“Jason,” he says, voice low. “What happened?”

Jason shakes his head. Wipes his eyes. And looks away with wavering determination.

“I can’t,” he says.

“It’s eating away at you,” Bruce says. “I can tell.”

“Is this why you came here?” Jason asks. “To torture me over some shit that doesn’t even matter?”

“I came here because you need to talk to someone,” Bruce says, quietly. “I know you, Jason. But I can’t help unless you open up to me.”

Jason continues to stare right ahead. He’s looking at his calendar right now. It has a koala bear on it. Sweet.

“Something obviously happened to you,” Bruce continues, “between then and now. That much is certain.”

Jason continues to stare. His heart is rattling in his chest. His chest is turning tight. His skin is growing numb, fainter by the second. He’s examining every hair on the koala bear now. Trying to find an out.

“And it...affected the relationship you have with the older Bruce. To the point where...you feel it’s irreparable.”

A tear escapes. Jason keeps staring ahead. His hands are shaking. The world is closing in. There’s no way out of it now. He’s trapped.

“I understand how he might feel distanced from you...if you kill,” Bruce says, struggling. “But. If you made a mistake last week...then surely…”

“I’m not supposed to be on duty because I’m meant to be healing right now,” Jason says. He feels on the brink of tears. Real tears. He looks down at the table and watches them fall. “I’ve got issues, Bruce. A ton of them. And I haven’t killed in months. I’m trying to be...part of the family again. And I know I can’t be if I do. But I can’t stand by and watch innocents get hurt either.”

“You’re trying to prove yourself,” Bruce says. “But he won’t accept you. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Jason rubs at his face and tries to breathe. “You’re him. Why wouldn’t you accept me?”

“I…” Bruce blinks to himself. “Does your Bruce have...anything to be guilty about, Jason?”

Jason smiles at that. And then he just starts uncontrollably, violently, crying. Bruce is over to him like a shot. He puts a hand on his back and starts rubbing it. And then, his dad instincts presumably kick in, because he’s holding tissues under Jason’s nose almost immediately. And then his Alfred instincts kick in, which means he starts rummaging through the cupboards, breaking Jason’s immersion in his own pity and sorrow.

“What are you doing?” he says, voice thick.

“Looking for your plates.”

“Left cupboard,” Jason says, sniffling. “Third one down.”

“I see,” Bruce says, pulling one out. “Do you have a toaster?”

“Shit, Bruce,” Jason rubs at his face. “What the fuck do you need a toaster for?”

“I’m going to make you toast,” Bruce declares.

“Jesus Christ.”

“It’s what Alfred did for me, when I was little. When I just wanted to...let it all out.”

“Okay,” Jason sniffs. Because fuck, that does sound really good right now. “It’s in the right hand corner. I haven’t unboxed it yet. Some old lady gave me it as a present when I moved in.”

Bruce claps his hands. “Excellent.”

“It might set the place on fire, Bruce,” Jason says. “It looks straight out of the stone age.”

“I’ve faced Ra’s Al Ghul in hand-to-hand combat, Jason,” Bruce gets the bread out. “I’m pretty sure I can work a toaster.”

Jason watches Bruce make toast. And then he comes to the conclusion that he loves Bruce very much. And that he just...really misses his dad. To the point where he’ll accept any version of him. Any version that still cares.

Bruce burns the toast. But Jason eats it anyway, because Bruce can’t cook to save his life and he missed this, so much. And Bruce doesn’t even realise it. He’s just being nice. Stupidly nice.

“You can tell me anything,” Bruce says, completely seriously. “I hope you know that. I understand why you wouldn’t. But you can. Even if it is how much my toast sucks.”

Jason smiles. He’s still teary. This is all too much, right now. And he’s not sure how much more of it he can take.

“You won’t be able to help, Bruce,” he admits, looking at the burnt breadcrumbs in front of him. “Some things- there’s just no fixing.”

“I thought that about Dick and I,” Bruce says. “Part of me still does. But...in this reality, he talks to me.”

“Yeah,” Jason says.

“Do you remember that? How it was for you? Between us?”

“It was Hell, Bruce,” Jason says. “You should really sort it out. Because it was Hell, being in that house. The tension, and everything...God.”

“I...am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jason says. “I’ve had worse.”

“It’s not that. I just- You still shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

“Have you told the current me that?”

“No,” Bruce says. “Not really.”

“You should.”

“I will,” Bruce says. “I...I need to tell him a lot of things more.”

Jason reaches over and squeezes Bruce’s hand. Bruce smiles.

“The point is,” he says, “if I thought my relationship with my son can’t be fixed...and it is...your relationship with your father may be fixable too.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s-” Jason lets out a breath. “There’s so much baggage, Bruce. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I would,” Bruce squeezes the hand. “Just try me. You told me that I’d leave within two minutes. I’m still here. Try me.”

Jason closes his eyes. If Bruce could handle the truth about Jason killing...then maybe…

Alright.

Fine.

“In this timeline...when you told me to stay where I was in Ethiopia...I didn’t,” Jason says. “I know what you said. I can still hear it in my head, now. And I should’ve listened. But it was my mom. I couldn’t- I couldn’t just leave her.”

Bruce nods minutely. He reaches over and takes Jason’s hand. Jason’s bottom lip starts to shake.

“I went after her. I t-told her. Fuck, Bruce. I told her I was Robin,” Jason looks away. “And- and I told her I could help. And she took me to the warehouse and then he was inside- and- they were working together. We thought he was forcing her, but they were working together, her and the Joker, and-”

Bruce’s grip becomes vice like. He stares at Jason intently, hooked onto every word.

Jason looks down. His jaw is shaking now, every word he says tasting like acid in his mouth. But it has to be said now. He’s gone too far to go back. Too far to save this. Any of this.

“He killed me.”

Chapter Text

JASON. FOURTEEN.

There’s silence in the room. Just plain, simple, silence. It’s funny, because the words Jason just heard are anything but plain and simple.

“What?” He says, on the brink of hysteria. It’s official. He’s losing it. And they’re all losing it too.

Damian looks down, his mouth impossibly small, his hands resting lifelessly in his lap. He reminds Jason of Bruce, and what Bruce gets like whenever he’s made a mess of things. Steph, Cass and Duke just look mortified. And who wouldn’t be? Damian’s talking crazy. Probably just trying to annoy Jason because he’s jealous. Or angry that he wouldn’t let Damian see his Bruce. Or something.

But everyone’s still staring. And Jason’t won’t be lied to, alright? He just won’t.

“What did you say?” Jason sits forward in the chair.

“Don’t say it again,” Duke says.

“No,” Jason urges. “Do.”

“You weren’t supposed to say anything in the first place!” Steph hisses, nudging Damian.

“Unhand me, Brown,” Damian says. “He has the right to know.”

“Not like this,” Cass says.

“Not like what?”

“Not,” Cass closes her eyes. “Like this.”

Jason stands up. His heart is beating very, very fast. “You guys are crazy. Do you know that?”

“They think that lying to you will make things better,” Damian says, very calmly. “But it won’t.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You were dead, Todd,” Damian says. “You were killed by the Joker five years ago.”

Jason’s legs waver. Damian stands, sighing, and crosses his arms.

“Everyone’s been dancing around it,” Damian says. “When you’re going to find out eventually anyway.”

“And what?” Duke glares. “You really think you’re doing him a favour?”

Damian ignores him. Jason just stares at the carpet, beyond confused.

“I can’t have been dead,” Jason says. “You’re lying to me.”

“Why can’t you have been dead?”

“Because I’m alive?” Jason asks. “I’m alive now? And the older me-”

“Was resurrected.”

“Wow,” Jason laughs, shaking his head. “Now you’re just….now you’re just trying to mess with me.”

“Todd,” Damian stares at him, completely seriously, “have you ever heard of the Lazarus Pit?”

Jason meets his gaze for a moment. And then he realises where he’s seen those startling green eyes before. Goddamnit...

“Talia,” Jason says, uncertain. “Bruce didn’t...did he?”

“What?”

“Talia Al Ghul,” he says, weakly. “And you...you’re…”

“If you’re asking if she’s my mother,” Damian puts his arms behind his back, “then the answer is yes.”

“Whoa,” Jason says, sitting down.

Bruce got busy with Talia Al Ghul? The daughter of the Demon? And they had a baby...who grew up to be Robin? And Jason died? And she threw him in the pit? To bring him to life again? Holy shit- Jason’s been in the Lazarus Pit? No wonder he’s all messed up now. Jason remembers Bruce telling him horror stories about that thing, back when he was first starting off as Robin. Maybe that’s why Bruce hates him now. Because he went in the pit?

Jason pinches his brow. Jesus Christ. This is all too much at once. But it’s making sense. It shouldn’t be making sense. What sort of a messed up timeline is this?

“It’s okay,” Steph says. “We’re still trying to get our heads around it.”

“I don’t understand,” Jason says, sitting down. “I wasn’t dead. I can’t have been dead.”

He looks up, desperate for an out.

“Tell me he’s lying to me,” Jason says. “Please.”

There’s silence. They look away from him. Cass sighs, and shuffles forward on the carpet, so that she can touch his shoulder. They meet eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she says.

Steph rests her chin on her knee. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“He wasn’t supposed to find out at all, ” Duke glares. “He’s from an alternate dimension, remember? He might not even be supposed to die in his world, or universe, or whatever. And who knows what sorta messed up shit is going to happen because he knows now. Just because Damian couldn’t keep it to himself for five minutes-”

“Oh, shut up, Thomas,” Damian rolls his eyes. “We couldn’t just keep it a secret.”

“Yes we could!” Duke says. “Because...you know? It’s the humane thing to do?”

“Do you find lying to a member of your own family particularly humane, Thomas?” Damian asks.

“When it’s about literally dying?” Duke raises his eyebrows. “Yes!”

“Jason?” Cass shuffles forward further. “Talk. Are you okay?”

“I…” Jason sinks in his seat.

Oh God. This is real, isn’t it? They’re not lying. At first he’d hoped...but it’s all falling into place...why old Bruce had been so desperate to see him...why Dick had tried so hard to befriend him and keep him calm...why Bruce had replaced him...God. They just- fucking lied to him. From the moment he arrived here. Just lies. Jason hadn’t grown out of the role. He’d died. He’d died and Bruce had just replaced him with a bunch of brand new shiny kids. He hadn’t been away for the family portrait. He’d stayed away because nobody likes him anymore, because the pit brought him back different, because Bruce hates him and his mom is dead and everything is awful...

“How?” He asks, starting to tremble. “How did it...happen?”

It feels wrong to question his own death. But he can’t not know now. It’s all falling into place, piece by sickening piece.

“The Joker,” Cass says, eventually. She fumbles with her hands. “In Ethiopia.”

“When?” Jason asks, heart starting to thump. “Ethiopia when? When I was there? When my mom was there?”

Duke nods, swallowing hard. “You were both there...when you...you know.”

“I died with her?” Jason presses, the pressure of tears building in him.

Duke clears his throat. “...Yeah.”

“How?” Jason asks, looking to Damian.

“I can’t remember the whole story, Todd,” Damian looks genuinely saddened now. “But I know that you disobeyed some sort of order from father. Your mother betrayed your trust...and the Joker exploded the warehouse soon after.”

“No,” Jason says, voice hollow and small.

“I think we should stop now,” Steph says.

“She wouldn’t,” Jason says. “She’s my mom. She- she was my mom.”

Damian opens his mouth to retort, but Duke stops him with a hand on the shoulder.

“This has gone on long enough,” Duke says. “I’m sorry, Jason. We have to stop. We should never have told you anything.”

“No,” Jason says, weakly.

“You aren’t supposed to know this shit!”

“It’s my life!” Jason says. “Who are you to tell me what I do and don’t know?”

There’s an awkward, tense beat of silence. And then the doors of the library swing wide, and Dick walks in- completely oblivious to the tensions of the room.

“I found them, Alfred!” he calls, hands cupped around his mouth. “Now, what are you guys up to in-”

He turns around and the smile drops from his face. He scans each expression one by one, frown deepening. By the time his gaze lands on Jason, who is crying, pale, and incredibly angry, Dick looks full of dread. And he isn’t the only one.

“What’s going on?” He asks, walking straight in. “What’s going on here?”

Nobody answers him. Jason stares at the carpet, lip trembling.

“Guys?” Dick pleads. “What did you tell him? Jason?”

“He knows,” Cass says, miserably.

“What?” Dick says. He walks up to Jason, squatting in front of him. “Jason?”

Jason can’t reply. He closes his eyes, letting the tears stream down. Dick grabs onto his arms, rubbing them.

“What have you done?” Dick asks the others.

There’s silence.

“Dick,” Jason says, voice watery. “I need to go.”

“Where, Little Wing?”

“I don’t know,” Jason pleads. “I just- I need to go.”

“Okay,” Dick stands up, taking Jason with him. “Okay. Let’s go get some air. It’s okay.”

Alfred walks to the doorway of the room, frowning. Dick mouths something his way before guiding Jason out of the room, arm draped over his shoulder.

“I wanna go to the garage,” Jason says.

“The garage?” Dick asks. “Why?”

“Please, Dick,” Jason says. “I just wanna go.”

“Okay,” Dick says.

They start making their way there, Jason resting more and more of his weight on Dick as they go. He feels like he’s going to be sick. Everything he thought he knew is in ashes. He can’t trust Bruce anymore. He can’t trust his mom. Hell, he can’t even trust Dick. Things were going to be so perfect when he found his mom again. But look what happened. Look how he fucked it all up.

“She’s dead because of me,” Jason says, breaking into a sob.

“Jason?”

“My mom,” Jason says. “She’s dead.”

“Oh, Jay,” Dick’s face falls. He rubs Jason’s back as they walk.

“And I’m dead too,” Jason says. “And Bruce hates me. And everything’s a mess.”

“Don’t think about that, Jay,” Dick says. “Just breathe for me, okay? Can you breathe for me?”

“It’s all a mess, Dick,” Jason’s shoulders heave as he cries. “It’s all- it’s all a mess- and I can’t- I can’t-”

“Do you want Bruce?” Dick says. “Do you want me to get your Bruce?”

“I can’t see him,” Jason says. “I let him down. I let him down and now I’m dead.”

“You’re not dead, Jay.”

“I’m going to die,” Jason sobs. “When I get back. I’m going to die because I ignored what he said and I got my mom killed and I ruined everything-”

“Jason, please!” Dick says, firmly. “You didn’t ruin anything. What happened was not your fault.”

“It must’ve been,” Jason says. “Everything is someone’s fault.”

“No-one is to blame for what happened but the Joker,” Dick says. “Okay? It wasn’t you, Little Wing. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I could’ve waited,” Jason says. “I could’ve just listened. But it was my mom- I just wanted to- to-”

“It’s okay, Jay,” Dick pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay.”

“I hurt Bruce so much,” Jason says. “I hurt him.”

“It was the Joker.”

“I hurt him by dying so he replaced me, and now he doesn’t love me anymore because I hurt him.”

Dick pulls away. “You take that back, Jason. None of it is true.”

“It has to be,” Jason sobs. “It makes sense. It all makes sense now.”

“Let’s just go to the garage, okay?” Dick says. “Remember? You said you wanted to go there?”

“Yeah,” Jason concedes, knees wobbling.

“Hey,” Dick says, hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Bruce loves you very much. We all do. No matter what happens. No matter the timeline. You know that, right?”

Jason let Bruce down. Jason didn’t listen. Jason got his mom killed. Jason came back for no reason. Jason doesn’t deserve to be a part of this family. Jason deserved to be replaced. Jason had it coming. Jason is unloved for a reason. And it all makes sense.

“Yeah,” he says, looking towards the garage door. “I do.”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

The admission slips out of Jason before he can stop himself. And then he’s left with the aftermath.

Years ago, Jason would’ve died for this. When he was filled up with hate and rage and despair, there was nothing he wouldn’t have given to see Bruce like this. Facing the error of his ways. The old Jason would’ve spat out the truth; sang it from the rooftops, shoved every single piece of horror right into Bruce’s face, just to see him squirm.

But he is not that man anymore. So every single piece of this feels like a trial. He’s not revelling in the hate anymore. He’s ashamed of it. He wants to hide from it. But there’s no going back now.

“What?”

“He killed me,” Jason says.

Bruce’s face goes slack. “What?”

“I died , Bruce,” Jason’s hands start to shake. “The Joker killed me. It was a trap. She- she led me right to him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He beat me with a fucking crowbar,” Jason says. “And rigged the place to explode. Sheila was tied up next to me. I tried to save her. I tried my best- and it just- it just-”

Bruce looks away. He is very, very pale, and there’s a thick layer of sweat making its way down his face. He looks like he’s going to faint. Or strangle something.

“I don’t blame you for this,” Jason says, hands shaking. “Okay? I don’t fuckin’ blame you. Not one bit. What happened- it was fucked up, and I’m not going to be the same, but-”

“How are you here?”

Jason takes a deep breath in. “What?”

“How are you here.” Bruce says.

When Bruce says his questions like statements...it means he’s livid. Very, very, livid, and doing a terrible job at hiding it.

“Talia found me,” Jason says, voice very quiet. “She wanted to pay a debt to you. She...she put me in the Lazarus pit.”

Bruce’s breathing skyrockets. He looks up, at the streak in Jason’s hair. And then down, at the table. At himself. And then, he lets go of Jason’s hand and puts his head in his palms.

“When I came back, I was angry,” Jason says. “ Beyond angry. Because the Joker was alive. And… I killed a lot of people in order to get back at you. And at him. And at everything. It’s not been the same since.”

“Where was I?” Bruce asks. His shoulders are trembling very slightly, and his jaw is tight, like he’s holding himself together through pure rage alone.

“When?” Jason asks. “When I came back, or-”

“When you-” Bruce looks up. His eyes are glazed over, and he looks like he’s going to be sick. “With Sheila- I-”

“You went somewhere in the plane,” Jason says. “I don’t know. It only had one seat.”

“I remember,” Bruce says, breaking. He’s shaking very violently now, and his voice is unsteady. “I remember, Jason- God- I-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jason reaches out to him. “It wasn’t.”

“I left you,” Bruce says, looking away. “I left you to die.”

“No,” Jason squeezes his hands. “No, no, no. C’mon Bruce. You didn’t. It was me. It was all me.”

“You don’t understand,” Bruce spits, voice filled with loathing. But it’s not for Jason. It’s for himself. “When you came to our world. I had just done the exact same thing to my Jason. I told him to stay behind. I left him to die.”

“There was nothing you could’ve done,” Jason says. “I mean- fuck- if it happens in every universe, maybe I’m meant to die, I don’t know-”

“It doesn’t make it right!” Bruce yells. He puts his head in his hands and starts tugging at his hair. “I did this to you, Jason! And I was about to do it again!”

“Bruce,” Jason says, pulling Bruce’s hands away. “Bruce. Please. Listen. Listen to me.”

He wrestles Bruce’s hands onto the table, squeezing them. And eventually Bruce looks his way.

“I’ve been here before,” he says. “And trust me. The blame game doesn’t work. All it ever does is tear us apart.”

“I’m your father, Jason,” Bruce says. Tears are leaking from his face. “This never should’ve happened.”

“It still might not,” Jason tries. “In your world- your Jason- he’s still alive. And he’s here , with you. Not with the Joker. You can keep him safe this time. He’ll listen this time. It’ll be alright.”

Bruce lets out a shaky breath and takes hold of Jason’s hands. His grip is vice-like.

“You deserve the support you need,” he says.

“I’m fine,” Jason says. “I mean, have you seen the size of my family? I’ve got more support than I could ever-”

“You’re estranged from them. That doesn’t count.”

Jason frowns, mouth very small. “You don’t know shit about what my family is like.”

“I saw enough at the Manor to know.”

“That’s just Bruce,” Jason says. “I talk to the rest of them. I’m- sorta close with a few of them, actually.”

“Your Bruce,” Bruce says. “What did he do when you came back?”

“Bruce, we really don’t have to do this,” Jason takes his hands away. “I told you everything, I don’t know why-”

“Jason.” Bruce states, eyes burning into him. A warning. 

“He fought me,” Jason says, arms crossed. “Don’t get the wrong idea from that, okay? He had to fight me. I came back wrong, I was killing people.”

“So you said,” Bruce says. “But what did he do when he found out it was you? Did he say anything? Did he do anything?”

Jason’s eyes start to water. He stares angrily at the wall.

“He- I-” Jason bites his lip. “I gave him an, um, ultimatum. Between me and Joker. Who he wanted to kill.”

“And?”

“Who do you think he chose, Bruce?” Jason wipes his eyes. “I mean, I was standing there, holding a gun to his head, Joker was laughing, and I just-”

Bruce stands up suddenly, his chair scraping along the ground. He pulls Jason to his chest and hugs him. It’s so tight Jason swears his ribs are cracking. His legs tremble from beneath him for a second. God. It’s been so long since someone held him like this. Jason brings his hand up to Bruce’s back, trembling.

“I’m so, so, sorry, Jason,” Bruce says, head on Jason’s shoulder. “I failed you. I failed you so much.”

“Bruce,” Jason’s voice croaks. “Bruce, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Bruce holds him tighter. “It’s not.”

Jason breaks down crying then. He can’t help himself. It’s all so new, and it hurts so much. But it might be healing him too. He doesn’t know. They stand there for what feels like years before Jason’s comm rings out and they have to part. Bruce stares at him for a moment, eyes glassy, and runs a hand through Jason’s hair.

“The white streak,” he says. “It’s from the Lazarus pit, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jason admits.

Jason turns away to find his comm. His hands are still shaking. He’s not sure what’s going on. But maybe that’s for the best.

“Hey, they want us back at the Manor,” he says.

“Why?” Bruce’s eyes darken. “What’s happening?”

“It’s Jason,” Jason says. “The young me, I mean. He’s missing.”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

The entire trip back to the Manor is a blur. Jason’s not able to drive, so they take a taxi; the driver giving Bruce strange looks the whole way.

“Lose the keys to your Ferrari or somethin’?” She asks.

“Yes,” Bruce says, simply. “Something like that.”

He’s livid. Jason can tell just from hearing his voice. But he’s still worn out from their conversation a few minutes earlier. His eyes are swollen. He has no energy for this. He’s worried for the younger Jason, sure. But he’s more worried at the thought of seeing his Bruce again. He’ll probably blame him for this. And then there’ll be a fight, and then he’ll be kicked out of the family again. He probably deserves it. It was his fucking fault the time travelling happened in the first place.

The second they reach the Manor Bruce shoots out of the car. He doesn’t even close the door properly. And if that isn’t a sign that he’s stressed, Jason doesn’t know what is.

Past Bruce didn’t have a wallet with him, so Jason hands the driver everything left in his. She gives him a funny look but doesn’t reject it. After that he steps out, following Bruce to the front door. His knees buckle slightly at the sight of the Manor. That’s when he realises he’s not ready to go inside. Not by a long shot.

“Bruce,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “B. I think I’m just gonna wait out here.”

“What?” Bruce turns, about to open the door. “Why?”

“I just-” Jason bites his lip. “With them in there. I can’t.”

Bruce takes a few steps towards him. He looks so worried. God. The last thing he needs is two Jasons wearing him down. What was Jason thinking? He should’ve said nothing. He should’ve just shut up and moved on...

“Is it to do with what we talked about?” Bruce asks.

“I just,” Jason breathes lifelessly. “I can’t do it. With him in there...it’s just…”

“He won’t hurt you,” Bruce promises. “I won’t let him.”

“It’s not that,” Jason says. “He won’t hurt me. It’s just...it’s too fresh. I feel like shit, and I need to find the other Jason, and if everyone’s on edge already, I’ll just make everything worse…”

“Jason,” Bruce takes a step forwards, putting his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “You won’t make anything worse.”

Jason laughs, weakly. “Shit, Bruce. Have you ever met me?”

“Listen,” Bruce squeezes Jason’s shoulders. “I have to go in there. Find out what I can. You can stay out here if you want. Or go anywhere you feel safe. I’ll be back for you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jason shrugs him off. “You gotta go, B.”

Bruce looks unsure.

“Bruce, your son is in danger,” Jason pushes him towards the door. “Go. It’s fine.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Bruce promises. And then he leaves.

BRUCE. THIRTY-FIVE.

As soon as Bruce walks in, it’s as if the world shifts. About a million faces (no- five, he counts, instinctively, upon entry) are staring at him. His future family are scattered everywhere, from the stairs to the immediate hallway. He only recognises two- Dick and Alfred. But even they have changed. It makes them unpredictable. Not as trustworthy. And, in the wrong situation, a threat.

Dick is the first to approach Bruce. He’s been biting his lip again. It’s something he does when he’s stressed, something he’s done ever since he was a child. In a strange sort of way, Bruce is glad not everything has changed about him.

“Have you heard anything?” He asks.

Bruce closes the door. “No.”

“Where is Master Jason?” Alfred asks.

“Outside,” Bruce says. “He wants to be alone.”

“Is he...okay?” Dick asks.

“What do you know?” Bruce says, looking to Alfred. He can’t think about the other Jason right now. And what happened to him. Because if so, he’ll just get angry, and then he’ll start throwing punches, and that won’t end well for anyone… “Are there any leads?”

“I think the other Bruce has a few,” Alfred says. “I’m not entirely certain on what the plan is, however.”

“To get Todd back, obviously,” the child on the stairs calls. Bruce glances at him momentarily. Weird. He reminds him of Talia. Not that Bruce can even begin to comprehend what that means right now…

The blonde girl next to him rolls her eyes. “I’m sure Alfred knew that, Damian.”

“Well, there’s not much else I can say to him,” Damian argues, nose wrinkling. “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m not allowed in the Cave for some absurd reason, when all I did was tell the truth-“

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce decides. “The other me.”

Alfred makes a face, like he’s seen what’s inside Bruce’s head, and is desperate to evade the inevitable outcome. “If I could, Master Bruce-”

“No, Alfred,” Bruce walks past. “You can’t.”

There’s a flurry behind him as he walks to the study- whispers, too. But none of them stop him as he enters the time into the clock and enters the cave. Maybe they know what he’s found out. Maybe they know that this has to happen. It was bound to, eventually.

“Bruce?” Barbara says, as he nears the computer. She has a laptop on her knees, and there are bags under her eyes. “You’re down here, how-”

“The password hasn’t changed, Barbara,” Bruce says. He’s feeling angrier and angrier by the second. “What happened to Jason?”

Barbara freezes for a second. “Your...Jason?”

“Yes, my Jason,” Bruce snaps. “My son, who’s missing, who was under this roof and has somehow escaped-”

“He didn’t somehow escape,” a cold voice says, from the steps leading down to the computer. “He planned this.”

Bruce clenches his fists as the older Bruce steps into the light. He’s wearing a sleeker, darker Batsuit. The cowl is up, and there are three people stood behind him. All of which are grimacing.

“Bruce, maybe this isn’t the time,” a long haired boy says.

The older Bruce ignores him and walks to the computer. And that isn’t a Bruce move. That’s a Batman move. Bruce’s rage starts to trickle to the surface. This is the same man who left Jason for dead? This is the man who cast him aside, like unwanted trash, upon his return? The one that has the nerve to treat his other children the same? Bruce could punch him right now. In fact, he could break that stupid cowled nose in half.

“How,” he says, hands shaking, “in the Hell do you think he planned this?”

Batman stares at the computer. He’s typing something- or, at least, is pretending to. “Jason is very smart. A master tactician. And a brilliant actor.”

“Are you saying he acted his way out of this house?”

Dick comes down the stairs, looking incredibly guilty. “It was my fault, Bruce. Don’t blame him.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Dick,” the long haired boy begins, “it could’ve happened to anyone-”

“No, Tim,” Dick shakes his head. “It was my fault. I let him in the garage because he couldn’t get in, I thought he just wanted to see the cars but-”

“He pushed Dick out of the room,” Batman says. “And locked the door. He must’ve seen the access codes over his shoulder and taken a car.”

“Just like that?” Bruce crosses his arms. “You don’t have locks on your cars?”

“I do,” Batman seethes.

“They’re the same ones he uses for the garage door,” Tim says. He steps towards Bruce, holding a hand out. “I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Not the time,” a dark haired girl hushes, and Tim takes a few embarrassed steps backwards.

“Can you track the car?” Bruce asks.

“I did,” Batman says. “But the trail ends at Crime Alley.”

“Well, let’s start there,” Bruce says. “We can split up, search for him-”

“It’s not that simple,” Batman spits.

“Why not?” Bruce asks. “He’s our son, Goddamnit, we can’t just-”

“Bruce, he knows something,” Dick says. “Something that- he’s not supposed to know. And if we all swamp him at once it might end badly.”

“Fine,” Bruce crosses his arms. “Then I’ll go.”

“I’m coming too,” Batman says.

Bruce laughs. “No chance in Hell.”

“What?” Batman frowns, turning around.

“You’re not going near my son ever again,” Bruce says, pointing a finger.

Dick makes a face. “Bruce-”

“No,” Bruce snaps. “Don’t Bruce me. He can barely look after the Jason he has.”

Batman takes a couple of careful steps forwards. “You have no idea of what you’re talking about.”

“You should be disgusted with yourself,” Bruce says. “What kind of a man ignores his own son? After he’s travelled through time? After he’s relived his darkest memory? After he fought his way back? You didn’t even check to see if he was okay.”

“Jason is fine,” Batman says.

“Did your tech tell you that?” Bruce asks. “Or was it one of the bats?”

“Bruce,” Barbara says, wheeling forwards. “That’s enough.”

“No,” Bruce steps away. “It isn’t. This man would rather rot in this cave than talk to his own son. After all he’s done. After all that’s happened.”

“What would you know about what’s happened?” Batman asks. “You arrived here last night. You’ve seen nothing I’ve seen. You still live in a rosy Gotham, where everyone is nice, and no-one has suffered, and life is grand-”

“I don’t give a damn about whether my life is grand!” Bruce yells. “You let him die!”

There’s silence. A stunned, horrible silence. Bruce regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. Dick falls into a seat, face pale and sallow. Barbara looks as though she’s going to be sick. And Batman’s immovable expression finally breaks.

“He told you,” he says, voice filled with grief. This isn’t Batman anymore. This is a resigned, shattered Bruce.

“Yes,” Bruce says. “He told me. He told me everything.”

Batman sits down. The rest of the cave stands, and sits, in their own worlds of shock and sadness.

“After all he’s been through,” Bruce says. “The last thing he needs is a father like you.”

There’s a silence. And then Batman takes his cowl off, revealing the old man underneath. There’s grey peeking from either side of his hairline. And he hasn’t shaved in days.

“You’re right,” old Bruce says.

“I’m right?” Bruce says, dejected. That’s all he has to say for himself? “Is that it?”

There’s no reply. Old Bruce looks too miserable to give one. Bruce shakes his head and turns to leave. He can’t stay here. Not when Jason is out there, alone and scared and hurting. He might’ve been failed once. But Bruce won’t fail him again. Not now, not ever.

“Bruce,” Barbara says, voice soft. “Your Jason knows too. About what happened.”

Bruce looks at her, tears springing in his eyes. He nods and turns toward the stairs.

“I’m going to look for him,” he says. “I suggest you all spread out. And do the same.”

“I’ll come with you,” the short boy, the one that reminds him of Talia, says.

The blonde girl crosses her arms. “Me too.”

Barbara looks around. “Does anyone have any objections?”

“No,” old Bruce says. “Groups of three. It’s a…it’s a good idea.”

“Right,” Bruce says. “Then there’s no time to waste.”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

Tim finds Jason leaning against one of the Manor’s shrubs, smoking. Cass is by his side. They’re in civilian clothes, which isn’t surprising to Jason. But what is surprising is that neither of them tell him off for smoking the moments they cross paths. Which is…bad.

“What went on in there?” He asks, immediately alarmed.

He stands upright and walks alongside them. They’re heading for one of the cars parked outside. It’s early morning, and the sky is alarmingly bright. Jason should be asleep.

“What makes you think anything happened?” Tim asks.

“Don’t bullshit me, Drake,” Jason says. “What’s going on?”

“Bruce and Bruce had an argument,” Cass says, tugging Jason along the path.

“Holy shit,” Jason drops the cigarette, and Cass stomps it out, scowling. “Really? What happened? Are they okay?”

“I wouldn’t say okay,” Tim says. “I’d say…perturbed.”

“It didn’t get physical. But they both know you died,” Cass sighs. “And so does young Jason. It’s…messy.”

“Wait-“ Jason scowls. “He fucking knows?”

“Yes,” Tim says. “Of course he knows. Didn’t you know?”

“Who told him?”

“Who do you think told him?” Cass asks.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Damian,” Jason sticks his hands in his pockets. “This is messy.”

“Yup,” Tim says.

“So what’s the plan?” Jason asks. “Is there a last known location? CCTV footage?”

“He stole a car,” Tim says. “We tracked it to Crime Alley. We’ve already got a team going there, so it would make sense for us to go somewhere they’re not.”

“Where would you go, Jason?” Cass asks. “If you were him?”

“If I’d just been told I’d died?” Jason itches the back of his neck. “Uh…I have no idea?”

“There’s got to be somewhere,” Tim says.

“The first time around I sobbed my heart out and then started training as an assassin, so,” Jason shrugs. “Trust me. I really don’t know.”

“Is there anywhere special to you?” Cass says. “And only you?”

Jason makes a face. He’s really, really not sure. It’s not as if he shares the same interests, or personality, or thoughts as the younger Jason…unless…

“There is a place,” he says, eventually. “I don’t know if he’ll be there nor not…but it’s worth a shot, right?”

BRUCE. THIRTY-FIVE.

“Will you please stop arguing,” Bruce says.

They’re in Crime Alley, in civilian clothes. Bruce has a scarf on, so he won’t be recognised. And his future children are being annoying as Hell.

“I am not the one inflaming the situation, father,” the short one, Damian, says. He crosses his arms and moves to the right side of Bruce, scowling. “It’s Brown. All Brown.”

“I have a name, you know?” Stephanie glares.

“Did you hear something, father?” Damian asks, itching his ear.

“You’re not even funny,” Stephanie declares. “Asshat.”

“No swearing,” Bruce says.

“Asshat isn’t even a swear.” Stephanie crosses her arms.

“It is in my book.”

“The other Bruce lets us swear.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Bruce says. “The car should be here somewhere.”

“A Porsche in a place like this shouldn’t be hard to find,” Damian declares.

“Huh. In a place like this…” Stephanie looks around the dirty streets. “Someone would’ve tried to steal it already.”

Bruce grimaces. “I think you might be right.”

They walk faster. Across the street, in one of the side alleys, a group of hooded men are tearing the Porsche to shreds with spanners, hammers, and saws. The sight makes Bruce sick. In broad daylight, too? Will this part of Gotham never change?

“Excuse me,” he announces, as they reach the car. “I believe that’s my car.”

“Wait in line,” one of the people spit.

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Damian crosses his arms. “Move.”

“As I said- wait in line,” the man repeats.

Damian’s brow folds. “And as I said- move.”

“Go to school, pipsqueak,” another says, coming towards Damian. “This ain’t no place for you.”

It’s a mistake. Bruce knows that immediately. Before the man can push Damian away, Damian darts forward and hits the man in the stomach. He crumbles to the floor in pain. Damian grins, looking at the others. They scatter.

Bruce checks the man’s pulse, frowning. “How did you know how to do that?”

“A basic punch?” Damian frowns.

“That wasn’t a basic punch,” Bruce says. “That was a side blow. Not something I teach.”

“I learned it,” Damian tips his head up. “From the League of Shadows.”

Bruce’s brow falls. “Really?”

“Yes,” Damian frowns further. “You were taught there too, were you not?”

Suddenly the pieces fall into place. Bruce stands up, his head spinning.

“Fuck,” he says, startled.

“Hey!” Stephanie crosses her arms. “You told us not to swear!”

Bruce blinks for a moment. And then he turns to Damian, astonished.

“You…Talia…me…”

“Yes,” Damian tips his chin up.

“But I don’t…” Bruce holds his head. “Hang on. How old are you?”

“Twelve,” Damian says. “Why?”

“In my world…” Bruce stands slowly. “You’d be seven.”

“You don’t find me until later,” Damian declares.

“Find?” Bruce frowns. “What do you mean find?”

“Well, my mother delivers me to you, to be exact,” Damian crosses his arms. He makes it seem so simple. But anyone knows anything to do with Talia Al Ghul is anything but. “But I’m found all the same.”

“When you say deliver…” Bruce frowns even further. “Do you mean…”

“I mean literally, deliver,” Damian emphasises. “My mother will drop me at your doorstep in a few years’ time. And name me your successor.”

“And leaves?”

“Well…” Damian stops to think about it. “Yes.”

Bruce feels lost for words. Nothing in this world makes any sense. He wants to go back to a time when things were simpler. Where things are easy to understand.

“Damian…I…” Bruce lets out a sigh. “That’s barbaric.”

Damian shrugs. “It’s mother.”

“I am so sorry,” Bruce says, putting a hand on Damian’s shoulder.

“It is fine, father,” Damian says. His cheeks are slightly red.

“It’s not fine,” Bruce says. “I should’ve found you sooner.”

“I was kept as the greatest of secrets,” Damian states. “There was no way you could’ve known.”

“If I get back to my world- I-” Bruce pauses. “I’ll look for you. I’ll find you early. I promise.”

Damian smiles- a rare sight. And he looks just like Thomas did as a child, in the old family photos Alfred keeps on the mantelpiece. It hits Bruce like a battering ram, and for the first time since arriving, he feels incredibly jealous of the things his future self takes for granted.

“I would like that.” Damian says. “Very much.”

Bruce squeezes Damian’s shoulder. Behind them, Stephanie climbs out of the car.

“There’s nothing in here,” she calls. “’Cept Jason’s prints on the wheel. But that doesn’t tell us anything new.”

“It confirms that he drove here,” Bruce says. “How much fuel is there left?”

“Uh,” Stephanie dips inside of the car. “A lot?”

“Then he stopped here on purpose,” Bruce says. “There’s only a few spots in Crime Alley I can imagine my Jason visiting.”

“You reckon he went on a trip down memory lane?” Stephanie asks.

“Yes.” Bruce says. “Of course. It’s what he always does, didn’t you know that?”

“Uh,” Stephanie blinks. “No?”

“Todd often fills people with bullets when he’s angry,” Damian says. “Annoyingly well.”

“Well, there’s no chance of that with this Jason,” Bruce crosses his arms. “So memory lane it is.”

JASON. NINETEEN.

“You’re going to have to talk to him some time or another,” Tim says.

“Tim,” Jason scowls. “Is this really the time?”

“What?” Tim asks. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

“If you weren’t aware,” Jason says. “We’re in a graveyard.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It means that you should be respectful,” Jason says.

“You mean, don’t disagree with my older brother at any cost,” Tim smiles.

Jason ruffles his hair. “Exactly!”

“Are you sure he would be here, Jason?” Cass asks. “I mean, this is where your public grave was. It was where Bruce buried you.”

“I know,” Jason says. “But that’s not here anymore. To li’l Jason, it would just be where his mother is buried.”

“If he knows about Sheila…” Tim grimaces. “That could be bad.”

“I think he’d come to check,” Jason says. “To check if it’s real. If she’s really dead.”

“That makes sense,” Tim says. “Hey. You still have to talk to Bruce though.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jason says. “He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“Uh,” Jason walks with his hands in his pockets, “the fact that he hasn’t talked to me?”

“Jason,” Tim laughs, and it’s so sudden Jason turns around frowning. “You really are dumb sometimes.”

“How am I dumb?” Jason asks. “It’s a pretty fuckin’ normal conclusion to come to.”

“You’ve been away,” Tim says. “You don’t know what it’s been like here.”

“Yeah, and he doesn’t know what it’s been like for me,” Jason says. “Not that he asked. Or even tried to care about it.”

“He’s been worried sick.”

“He’s been all over the younger me like a rash,” Jason spits. “God. No wonder he was so annoyed to see me return. It’s probably just hit him that he has to send the other one back.”

“Hood, it’s not like that,” Tim says, frown falling.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jason asks. “Bruce’s biggest regret is letting me die. He’s never been able to shake it.”

“So you think that he sees this whole situation as a way to…fix things?”

“Uh, yeah?” Jason scowls. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because he loves you?” Tim scowls on back. “And you’re his son?”

“Hah,” Jason turns away. “I’m his employee, at best. And a bad one.”

“You know that’s not true,” Cass calls. She’s looking at each grave she passes, leaves dancing between her feet. “If it were, you wouldn’t be in the family.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Tim asks. “You come around for dinner every Sunday!”

“Yeah,” Jason blinks. “Because Alfred asks.”

“And you wear a Batsymbol,” Cass says.

“Yeah,” Jason says, “to piss him off. Not because he wants me to.”

“Don’t you think if he didn’t want you wearing it, he would’ve stopped you?” Cass asks.

“He just feels guilty,” Jason says. “I’m a mess. If it weren’t for the fact I died and he feels bad about it, I wouldn’t be a part of this family at all. I’m useless, I’m annoying, I’m pretty much a failure in every sense of the word-”

“How can you say that?” Cass asks. “Bruce told us what happened in Ethiopia. You had every chance to kill the Joker. And you didn’t.”

“I tried,” Jason says.

“Then why did you fail?” Tim asks. His eyes are very intent. And so are Cass’s. Goddamn.

“Bruce was there,” Jason says. “And I guess- fuck. I guess I just got into the mindset of being a Robin again. And I couldn’t do it in front of him. I tried to, but- Bruce was so young, and I just- I just couldn’t.”

“And don’t you think that means something?” Tim presses.

“It means I can’t even do the one fucking thing I want to in the world,” Jason says. “Which is take that psychopathic piece of shit off the face of the Earth once and for all.”

“It means you put family ahead of death,” Cass says. “Which isn’t a bad thing.”

“It is my book,” Jason says.

“Well, it isn’t in mine,” Cass states. “Or anyone else’s.”

Jason shakes his head. They keep walking through the graveyard. The sunlight is starting to seep over the trees and clamber up Gotham’s skyline, one skyscraper at a time.

“Even so,” Tim says, after a while. “In the other timeline, the Joker is missing, presumed dead. Sheila is safe. And Jason knows she was a liar. So crisis averted, right?”

“Tim,” Jason scowls at him. “You do realise he’s missing right now this second, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Tim says. “But we’ll find him. We’ve got to find him.”

They reach the gates of the graveyard. Cass sighs.

“Well, I don’t think he’s here,” Jason says.

“Is there anywhere else?” Cass asks. “Anywhere else he could possibly be?”

Jason shrugs. And then he freezes, turns around, and runs right to where his mother’s grave is.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he declares.

“What?” Tim asks, running over.

The three of them stare at Catherine Todd’s grave. Beside it, Sheila Haywood’s gravestone has been kicked to the side, so that it now leans unevenly. There’s a moody footprint etched onto the surface. Around Jason’s size. And a bunch of footprints leading to the fence, that he undoubtedly vaulted over…like the dramatic Robin he used to be.

“He was angry when he left,” Jason says, remembering Bruce’s words from earlier. “Stressed. And when he runs he feels cornered, normally to places where he thinks people won’t be able to find him…”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

“Okay, so young Bruce is at your mom’s old apartment block,” Tim recites. “Old Bruce is on patrol. And we are…”

Jason wrinkles his nose and tugs on the brake. “Stopping here.”

“Here?” Tim scowls, looking around. “Jason, this isn’t anywhere.”

“Not to you,” Jason gets out of the car. “Stay here.”

Cass frowns. “Why?”

“This is a private place for me,” Jason says. “And I want it to stay that way.”

Tim looks uncomfortable with being left behind.

“Just trust me, okay?” Jason sighs. “I’ll holler if I find him.”

“Okay,” Cass says. “Be quick.”

Jason gives her a thumbs up, closes the door, and takes the next three blocks on foot. He doesn’t know how much he trusts them to stay put. But Hell, if he’s right, this place’s cover is pretty much blown already…

The house Catherine left him looks exactly the same as it did a few hours ago, when he was last here. But the gate is open. Jason tests the front door to find it still locked. Looks through a few windows, to see if the younger Jason has broken in. And then he makes his way to the back garden. There’s not much there. He hasn’t been able to work on it yet. There’s one tree, and a pathetic tire swing hanging from one of the branches. But what he didn’t put there was a shivering lump of a boy on the back porch steps. Jason runs to him, heart thumping.

“Oi!” He says, turning the body over. “No no no no no. Hey. No dying here.”

Young Jason is lying there, face slightly blue, and his body completely slack. His pulse is there but weak. Goddamnit. The stupid kid was probably here all night…

“Hey. Hey. Baby Todd. C’mon,” Jason says. “Wake up.”

Baby Todd stirs a little. “Ghuhh?”

“That’s it,” Jason urges. “C’mon, li’l Todd. It’s me.”

“Go awayhgh,” Baby Todd murmurs. “M’fine.”

Jason shakes his head, unlocks the back door, and carries Baby Todd inside. He’s shivering all over.

“What were you thinking, running away, huh?” Jason asks. “Don’t you know there’s people out there worried about you?”

“I don’t like you,” Baby Todd says, weak. “And I don’t like them.”

“Uhuh,” Jason says.

He places Baby Todd down on the sofa, wraps a blanket around him, and puts the kettle on. Baby Todd keeps shivering. But he’s becoming more coherent now. Which is good.

“How…did you find me?” Baby Todd stammers.

“This is my house too, remember?” Jason fills up a hot water bottle. “Mom left it to the both of us. Not just you.”

“B-but it’s so different,” Baby Todd says. “There’s- stuff on the walls.”

“It’s a work in progress,” Jason says. He wraps the hot water bottle in a towel and places it in Baby Todd’s lap. “Here. Hold this for a while.”

“I said I’m fine,” Baby Todd scowls.

“You collapsed on my back porch,” Jason crosses his arms. “You are not fine.”

Baby Todd clutches the hot water bottle angrily to his stomach. “I didn’t collapse.”

“Fine,” Jason puts his hands on his hips. “You fell asleep then. Same difference.”

Baby Todd glares at the wall, lips pursed. But at least he’s holding the damn water bottle. Jason sighs, collects some clothes, and dumps them at Baby Todd’s feet.

“If you feel like changing,” he says.

“I’m not a baby,” Baby Todd says.

“You’re acting like one.”

“I just found out how I’m going to die!” Baby Todd yells. “I think I’m allowed to be a little hysterial!”

Jason blinks at him, unsurprised. And then he sits down on the sofa opposite.

“It’s hysterical,” he says, unable to say anything else.

“Why are you such an asshole?” Baby Todd asks. “Is it dying that did this to you? Or something else?”

“I don’t know,” Jason says. “You’re me. You figure it out.”

“I’m trying!” Baby Todd insists. “I’m trying- but- this world- it’s just so- so-”

“Fucked up?” Jason finishes.

“Yeah,” Baby Todd admits. “Yeah. It is fucked up.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Jason rubs his forehead. “Soon you’ll be home and you can- I don’t know- just forget about all of this. Make better choices. I don’t know.”

“Forget about this?” Baby Todd says, lips trembling. “Forget about dying? Are you crazy?”

“Here we go,” Jason mumbles, to no-one in particular.

“If I go back to my own world I’ll die!” Baby Todd says.

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea! I’m going to die! Just like you did!” Baby Todd cries. “With the Joker, and Sheila, a-and Bruce, and-”

“Okay, okay,” Jason grits. “I get it. You’re upset. I get it.”

He sighs, putting his head in his hands. He really can’t deal with this. But it’s not as if he can call in reinforcements either. They’ll just make things worse.

“Listen,” he says. “What happened to me was horrible. And the way you found out was horrible. But it hasn’t happened to you, not yet. And it might never happen. So let’s just calm down and focus on right now, okay?”

Baby Todd manages to nod. He’s shaking, and there’s tears streaming down his face, but at least he’s holding it together. Which is more than what Jason can say for himself.

“Right now you’re safe,” Jason says. “And alive. With the best dad in the world, and a giant group of people who love and will care for you and do just about anything to keep you safe. And you’ve got- you’ve got a whole life ahead of you. A whole life that’s just- waiting, okay? So don’t throw in the towel just yet. You’ve just got to keep breathing.”

Baby Todd looks down, shoulders trembling. Jason reaches forward, pats his shoulder, and stands.

“I’m going to go let them know you’re okay, okay?” Jason says. “Keep holding that bottle. And keep breathing.”

Chapter Text

JASON. FOURTEEN.

Jason is ambushed by Bruce the moment the older Jason opens the door. He’s never looked so desperate in his life. He runs down the corridor and to the room Jason is in in about two seconds flat.

“Jay!” Bruce explodes, falling to his knees. “Jay. Jay Jay Jay Jay Jay.”

“Knock it off, will ya?” Jason says, feeling vacant. “M’fine.”

“I am so sorry,” Bruce says, running his hands through his hair. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Dad,” Jason mutters, feeling weak. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” Bruce’s frown deepens. “I was so worried. Why did you run?”

“I don’t know,” Jason says, glowering. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know what I’d do,” Bruce admits. He looks up at Jason, a hand on his knee. “After my parents died…I was on my own a lot. And criminals have told me I’m going to die numerous times.”

“But it isn’t the same than actually knowing,” Jason says, hanging his head low.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bruce asks.

“Not really,” Jason says. “I just feel weird. And sad.”

“Of course,” Bruce says, resolute. “Of course you’re sad. I can’t even begin to imagine…”

“Not for me, though,” Jason shakes his head. “For him.”

He points behind them. Sitting on the porch outside, visible through the side window, is the older Jason. He’s being talked to by a bunch of people. Probably because they wanted to give the newbies some space. Jason can’t help but feel guilty. He never stopped to think about what the other Jason was feeling. And that’s awful, man. Especially after he put up with him earlier…saving him from the cold and everything....

“The shit that happened in Ethiopia, with the Joker and everything…it was bad,” Jason tries to explain. “But it happened to him, not me. And it’s him that deserves this help.”

“You’ve been through things too, Jason,” Bruce says, voice soft.

“Yeah, but it’s not as if I died!” Jason exclaims.

Bruce stands, reaching for a cup of water. “You’re getting a temperature…”

“Stop!” Jason says. “Will you listen to me! We have to help!”

“I’m working on it,” Bruce says. “But right now you have to rest.”

Jason opens his mouth to protest, but it’s that moment that Dick and Barbara come in, and Bruce looks so relieved in that moment that Jason doesn’t have the heart to argue anymore. So instead he sits, arms crossed and legs propped up, as Dick and Barbara fuss over him.

“He doesn’t look too bad, considering-”

“If there’s anything you want to know or ask-”

“I don’t know what Dami was thinking-”

“He should feel worse about all of this, I’ll talk to him later-”

“Bruce is interrogating Time-Twizzler as we speak, don’t worry-”

“You’ll be home in no time. As long as Bruce gets ahold of that orb-”

“I need the toilet,” Jason announces, suddenly. He stands, taking the blanket with him, and walks to the door.

It’s not hard to find what he needs from there. Cass is sitting at the bottom of the stairs, fiddling with her hair. She looks up when Jason approaches.

“Where’s everyone else?” He asks.

“Outside,” Cass says. “Steph’s in the restroom. Why?”

“It’s pretty stupid,” Jason says, sitting next to her. “But I need your help…”

JASON. NINETEEN.

To be honest, Jason couldn’t be happier Cass told him about this brand new lead. He’s been desperate to leave that house ever since the family arrived. He’s glad the younger him is safe, and happy, and all…but there’s only so much he can take. A bit of work is just what he needs. And if it helps get the younger Jason and Bruce back to where they belong…then it’s an added bonus.

He makes his way to the location Cass gave him. It’s a warehouse filled with shipping containers from top to bottom. Apparently, she heard something about Time-Twizzler keeping his spare orbs here. Maybe one of them can help…

He climbs up the shipping containers, looking for number 203. It’s the one Cass said was most likely to contain goods related to the case. It only makes sense to start there. The place looks pretty much abandoned, but he came fully equipped just in case. He missed his guns. And part of him is still bitter he left them behind in the past…

“Two hundred,” Jason counts, leaping up. “Two hundred and one, two hundred and two…”

Finally! 203. Jason hurdles upwards to it, holding his guns at the ready. The door is slightly ajar. It must’ve been moved recently…maybe Time-Twizzler broke out? Maybe another player was involved in all this? Who knows? This time, Jason is going to get closure on this, once and for all.

He swings open the door, steps inside, and points his guns directly at…

“Bruce?” He says, stunned.

Bruce turns around. He’s examining one of the objects in the shipping container, frowning deeply. But it’s his Bruce. And he looks just as confused as Jason is…

“Jason?” He asks.

They stare at each other for a second. And then the crate door slams forcefully shut.

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

Jason realises what’s happened the moment the door slams shut.

“Cass!” He roars, running to it. He jangles the handle. No use. He hits it a bunch too. No use either. “Cass! Open up! For fuck’s sake!”

Bruce watches him stoically. Jason turns around, hands in his hair, heart hammering. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want this. No no no no no…

“It was a fucking trap!” Jason spits. “All of it! A fucking trap!”

Oh, he can’t wait for Bruce to start talking. To start telling him what a fuck up he is. That’ll be the icing on the cake. Jason turns around, gets his guns out, and aims them directly for the door…

“No!” Bruce yells. “Don’t-”

But it’s too late. Jason, in his desperation to escape, shoots twice. One of the bullets ricochets harmlessly onto the floor. But the other flies straight backwards, and directly into Bruce’s thigh.

Bruce grimaces, falling onto one knee. Jason stares in horror as it all falls into place. He drops the guns, mortified, and starts banging on the door again.

“Cass! Please! You’ve got to- got to-”

“She’s not here anymore,” Bruce grits, holding his thigh.

“How do you know?”

“She would’ve heard the gunshots,” Bruce says. “If she was still in range.”

“Fuck,” Jason says. He leans against the door and tries to breathe. “Fuck.”

“Calm down,” Bruce says. “It hasn’t hit an artery.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your leg!” Jason yells. “I just want to get out of here!”

“I told you not to shoot,” Bruce says. “If you hadn’t, I would’ve been able to get us out of here quicker. Now I have to waste time fixing my leg-”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Jason spits. “Sorry for inconveniencing you. You know, maybe if you hadn’t made me so desperate to get away from you that I had to shoot the fucking door, none of this would’ve happened!”

“You say that like I planned this.”

“Didn’t you?” Jason laughs. “C’mon, Bruce. Don’t play innocent. You plan everything. You probably even planned for that time motherfucker to send me back in the first place.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Do I now?” Jason says. “Because, y’know what, everyone keeps telling me shit that I’m supposedly already supposed to know. Oh yeah, I’m supposed to know that nobody wants to replace me with the younger me, despite everyone giving so much more of a fuck about him. I’m supposed to believe that you weren’t in heaven every second the young me was back.”

“You’re upset,” Bruce says, taking his leg armour off. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“No,” Jason shakes his head. “I’m right. I know what they all said when I came back. That I should’ve stayed dead. That I was so much better when I was alive. So full of life and hope. Who wouldn’t want that kid back? And why would you take the broken rip-off when you could have the original? He’s younger, he’s happier, he’s better at taking orders, he doesn’t know how much of a fucking hypocrite you are-”

“Stop talking, Jason,” Bruce says, trying to wrap the wound. “Please.”

“No,” Jason walks forward. “You’re not allowed to be upset. I am. Because I had to relive the worst fucking days of my life while you did nothing. I had to find my own way back. I had to explain to some kid that it wasn’t his fucking fault that he died. And where were you through all of this? Playing silent in the background?”

Bruce hisses as blood starts to leak from his wound. His hands are shaking. He’s doing it all wrong.

“A couple of words,” Jason says. “That’s all you had to say to me, Bruce. A few words. To let me know that I- I didn’t do it all wrong. That I was going to be okay. When I came back- I wanted to give up on everything. I thought you would’ve missed me. Fuck, Bruce- did you even notice I was gone?”

There’s a beat of silence. And then Bruce crumples to the floor, cape falling over him. Jason watches him for a second, trying to figure out if it’s an act. And then, when blood starts to seep across the floor, he rapidly realises it isn’t.

“Bruce?” He takes off his helmet, frowning. “Bruce?”

He runs over, pulls Bruce’s cape back. Bruce is still trying to hold onto his leg. But the impact of him falling over must’ve burst some stitches somewhere. Because he’s bleeding. Everywhere.

“What the fuck?” Jason says, in shock. “Bruce?”

“Stitches,” Bruce says. “From patrol. Couple of…days ago.”

“You were on patrol?”

“Yes,” Bruce heaves.

“When?”

“Don’t ask me that,” Bruce shuffles onto his side. “Stupid…question.”

“Okay, I know you go on patrol every night, Bruce, I’m not fucking stupid,” Jason spits. “I’m asking when you got these new wounds.”

“Two days ago,” Bruce says.

Jason pauses for a moment, frowning. “That was the night you brought Time-Twizzler in. And just fucking ignored me.”

“It wasn’t my intention,” Bruce heaves. “I did miss you. Things have just been so bad between us recently…I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“And you thought ignoring me was the best way to go?” Jason snaps. “Really?”

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Bruce says. “I thought that was how it went between us. You didn’t talk to me…either.”

“Stay awake, asshole,” Jason hisses. He starts pulling off Bruce’s side armour. “I didn’t talk to you because I thought you fucking hated me.”

“Whuh?” Bruce asks.

“You hate me,” Jason says. “You’re always getting at me. Yelling at me and shit. And those are the only times you ever talk to me.”

“I yelled at you because you kept going out on patrol,” Bruce slurs. “When you were supposed to be going to therapy.”

“I hate therapy,” Jason says. “If you fucking talked to me every once in a while, you’d know that.”

“It doesn’t mean…it’s not right for you,” Bruce says. “You’re not safe to be on patrol right now.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m good enough to be patching up your sorry ass right now, though, aren’t I?”

“M’not worried for other people,” Bruce says, closing his eyes. “M’worried…for you…”

“Bruce?” Jason asks. He’s halfway through patching up the first cut across Bruce’s ribs. He drops the gauze, however, to slap Bruce’s face. “Oi. Don’t you fucking pass out on me. You’re not allowed.”

“And you,” Bruce says, opening his eyes a little. “Can’t tell me what to do.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jason says. “Keep talking. Why are you worried for me?”

“Patrol is pressure. It puts a strain on you. A strain that you…don’t need.”

“I do just fine,” Jason says. He finishes patching up the first wound and moves to the next. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

“I go to therapy,” Bruce argues.

Jason freezes. “What?”

“I started…after you died,” Bruce closes his eyes. “I don’t talk about it.”

“You could’ve said,” Jason says. “I thought you were just taking the moral high ground when you were forcing me to go.”

“As I said,” Bruce wheezes. “I don’t talk about it.”

Jason shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have anything else to do if I just went to therapy. Patrol is the only thing I can do.”

“You’re young, Jason,” Bruce says. “Your life doesn’t have to be…just this.”

Jason falls silent at that. He’s still so angry, but now upset is entering the picture. And he just wants to start sobbing. He finishes patching up Bruce’s waist and thigh before shuffling away from him, knees to his chest. Bruce sits up stiffly as well, taking off the cowl. He looks incredibly pale. That’ll be the blood loss. Or maybe even the stress of being shot at. Whoops.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more,” Bruce says. “I know that means nothing. I don’t expect forgiveness.”

“Good,” Jason says, out of spite. “Because you won’t get it.”

“I acted out of pride. It was so much easier to just leave our relationship…the way it was. Us not talking. You storming out of the cave. Me giving you orders every once in a while. And no contact otherwise. It hurt less to live that way. I think you’d probably agree. There’s so much anger between us…” Bruce looks away. “Every time we talked it seemed to flare up and ruin everything. So it made sense to keep it professional. To treat you as a colleague, and not a son. But I miss you, Jason. I missed you the second I knew you were missing. And part of me thought…that I’d lost that chance all over again. So when the younger version of you arrived, and he brought back all of those memories…it broke something in me. I couldn’t bear to look at you. I still…I still can’t.”

“Then it’s agreed,” Jason says. “After all of this is over…I’ll leave. Anything to spare you the burden of looking at me.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Bruce says. He sips in a long breath. “I…I hate knowing how badly I’ve treated you. It eats at me. And everytime I see you I’m blinded by it.”

“That’s not my fucking fault, Bruce,” Jason says. “The killing I understand. And I’ve…I’ve said a lot of things. And done a lot of things that were shit to you, and everyone else. But you can’t take the fact that I remind you of some bad shit out on me. I didn’t do that to you. You need to let it go.”

“I will never let it go,” Bruce says. “Seeing my son die…”

He’s unable to finish the sentence. Jason clenches his fists and closes his eyes.

“I can’t get over it,” Bruce finishes, after a while. “And I know- I know this might be too late. But I can try to- I can try to repair this.”

“How?” Jason turns to him.

“I…I don’t know,” Bruce admits. “I don’t even know if you still like me, Jason. I’m not a great father. I’ve never been a great father. And when it comes to fixing this…I wouldn’t even know how to begin. But I’d try my best. If you’d still have me.”

“Bruce…” Jason says, tearing up. “All I’ve ever fucking wanted was you to be a dad to me. But you just…you make it so difficult. And you’re just so…you’re just so fucking annoying to be around sometimes. You never say what you’re feeling. You ignore me. You ignore all of your kids, sometimes. And sometimes you act and think like a fucking robot. You’re cruel, sometimes. And the rest of the time you’re just plain stupid.”

Bruce nods. He’s crying a little too.

“But you’re still my dad,” Jason says. “Okay? You’re still my dad. Despite all of that. And I will always, always want you to try. Even if you’re shit at it. Even if I’m shit at it too. And I know I’m shit. You don’t have to tell me that. I still want to try.”

“Okay,” Bruce says, voice hoarse.

“Okay,” Jason says. He looks at the floor and wipes his face.

There’s a heavy, peaceful silence. Jason’s okay with it until he sees Bruce’s eyes shut again. So he panics, shuffling closer, and trying to think of any reason to break the silence again.

“I’m not sorry I shot your leg, though,” he says. “You deserved that.”

Bruce chuckles. “Yeah. I probably did.”

He reaches out for Jason’s hand. Jason pauses for a second before letting him take it. Bruce senses the hesitation. They both do.

“I missed you,” Jason says. “I missed us.”

“It’s going to be okay.”

Jason looks at him. “Yeah?”

Bruce nods. “Yeah.”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

They let go of each other as soon as help arrives. Dick barrels in first, in his full Nightwing gear, eyes wide.

“What the Hell happened?” He asks.

“Bruce got shot,” Jason says.

“You were supposed to talk!”

“You were in on this too?” Jason asks. He puts his head in his hands. “Great.”

“I wasn’t at first,” Dick says, helping Bruce up. “Cass told me after it’d already happened. Apparently the little you thought of it.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Jason announces.

“Nobody is going to kill anyone,” Bruce says. He wobbles a little, and Jason stands to grab his other arm. “And I am fine.”

“You look like you’re leaking,” Steph supplies, from the door of the container.

“Yep,” Bruce says. “Not helping.”

“Y’know,” Steph makes a face at Bruce’s chest wounds. “If you’d just let us come on patrol with you none of this would’ve happened…”

“If little Jason hadn’t been a cocky little shit none of this would’ve happened,” Jason says, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Dick says, softly. “It wasn’t the best plan. But hey. Nobody’s dead, right?”

“Against Jason’s best efforts,” Bruce says.

Jason looks at him. Bruce frowns a little, before conceding-

“That was a joke. I was trying- to joke.”

“Oh,” Jason’s frown falls even deeper. “Oh man. Yeah. That- that wasn’t the best.”

Dick grins. “God, Batman joking. He must have a fever.”

“I think we should check him as soon as we’re out of here,” Steph says, as they slowly clamber down the warehouse.

“Could be contagious,” Dick agrees.

“No, I’m serious,” Steph says. “This warehouse looks dusty as fyuuuuck, dude.”

Bruce just shakes his head. Jason can’t help but smile. It’s weird, and maybe a little bit stupid. But he can’t remember the last time he felt this comfortable around the family. He knows it probably won’t last long. But he’ll stick around to enjoy it. At least until Bruce’s resolve wears thin, and the younger Bruce and Jason go home.

Dick and Bruce walk ahead to the car, whilst Steph lags behind. She puts her hands behind her back, ashamed.

“We really didn’t want to tell the younger you,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“S’fine, Steph,” Jason shrugs. “He was gonna figure it out sometime or another. And it was never not going to be ugly.”

“We haven’t talked in a while,” Steph says. “Have we?”

“Uh,” Jason shrugs. “I mean…”

“Like, I know you’re around sometimes,” Steph says. “You help with cases and shit. And you sometimes come around the manor. But I think this is the most a lot of us have seen of you since all the Bane shit went down. Y’know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason sighs. “I just. I know it sounds shitty. But I just sorta felt scared about it all.”

“You,” Steph smiles. “Scared of us? Jason, you’re like the scariest one in the family! Except from Damian, of course.”

“And Alfred,” Jason says. He pauses for a second. “What about Bruce?”

“Excuse me? Have you seen Bruce?” Steph asks. “Dude’s like a frickin’ Carebear.”

They reach the door of the warehouse. Jason watches Dick load Bruce into the car. And then he puts his hands into his pockets and sighs.

“I guess I wasn’t just scared,” he admits. “I just- I don’t know why. But I always thought I was a burden on you guys.”

“Burden? What the fuck?”

“Like you don’t really want me there.”

“We invite you to shit all of the time!” Steph protests.

“I know,” Jason says, moving to shut the warehouse door. “But, like, that could be a pity thing.”

“You’re crazy,” Steph laughs. “Seriously. You are.”

“What?”

“Jason,” Steph says, crossing her arms. “I don’t feel like you know, so I’m just gonna tell you. We don’t pity you. We want to help you. And we don’t invite you to shit because we’re being nice. We invite you to shit because we want you there, and we want to hang out with you and make sure you’re included. And definitely not because anyone is telling us to, okay? So quit the shit.”

“I just,” Jason closes the door and leans on it for a second. “When you’ve been on your own for so long, you get used to this- voice in your head. And you get used to thinking it’s right.”

“Well, here’s a simple solution,” Steph links arms with him, dragging him away from the door. “Don’t be on your own.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Jason says.

“It is,” Steph says. “As long as you know you’re not alone.”

Jason watches her get in the car. And then he looks at the sky. It’s a big bright blue. Not too different from the sky he died under. A sky of deaths to some. A sky of resurrections, and new beginnings, to another. It’s hard to figure out which is which.

“I’m starting to,” he says, to no-one in particular. And then he shuts his sappy mouth and gets in the car.

JASON. FOURTEEN.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Jason is in the brand new shiny cave. Young Bruce is being shown all of Damian’s various pets. Alfred is cleaning Jason’s Robin armour, so that he may go back “clean, and not covered in the grime of an unfamiliar Gotham”. Jason’s not sure how well that logic checks out, but he let Alfred get away with it, because it’s Alfred. And now he’s sat a few feet from Time-Twizzlers containment pod, watching him sleep. Not in a creepy way, of course. Just so he can make sure he doesn’t try anything. And definitely not because Jason is incredibly bored.

He looks up. The voice that’s interrupted his thoughts belongs to the weird pale kid with the weird long hair. Jason sighs.

“It’s you,” he says.

The boy frowns. “Huh?”

“You’re the next Robin along,” Jason says. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” the boy sits next to him. “Most people call me Tim, though.”

“Good for you,” Jason crosses his arms.

“Look,” Tim makes a face. “I understand why you wouldn’t exactly be pleased to see me.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You replaced me. After I died!”

“Yeah, but you can understand why, can’t you?” Tim pleads. “I know this sounds crazy out loud. But. Batman needs a Robin.”

“I know that, stupid,” Jason says. He remembers how Bruce was without Dick. “But I’m his Robin. I’m right here.”

“Yes,” Tim says, delicately. “But…in this timeline he…he was without you for a little while. Because…of your death. And he fell apart. He completely fell apart.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jason says. He’s starting to get angry at this Tim kid. For a whole host of reasons.

“Because- I just-” Tim exhales a breath. “I wanted you to know that I looked up to you. Desperately. You and Dick- you were the whole reason I joined in the first place. And after I figured out who Dick and Bruce were- I used to read all about you. What you did. How many people you saved. How much good you did. And I didn’t want you to forget any of that. I know- based on what’s happened to you- that it could be easy to forget the good. But you were an amazing Robin, Jason. You still are.”

Jason smiles, flushing. He pulls his knees to his chest.

“You really looked up to me?” He asks, timid.

“Yes!” Tim says, ecstatic. “Yes! Of course I did! You were so cool! You were so much more badass than Dick seemed, and you always came back fighting, and I just- I wanted you to know that- I know I replaced you. And I know how shitty that may feel. But I was never even half the Robin you were. You just had this- magic. And no amount of studying can amount to that.”

“Oh,” Jason grins, embarrassed. “Well. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Tim says. “And- just so you know- it was a pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry I freaked you out. It was my idea, coming to Dick’s apartment like that. I was a little starstruck.”

“It’s okay,” Jason says. “I got over it.”

“Look!” Tim says, arms wide. “Look at the way you talk! You’re just so- cool! Holy fuck!”

Jason shakes his head. He looks towards Time-Twizzler, desperate to change the subject. He loves praise. But he’s never been good with confronting it, for whatever reason.

“Barbara says you’re nearly ready to send me home,” he says.

“Well, yeah,” Tim itches the back of his head. “In theory. T-T’s given us a list of places he sold his weird magic orbs to. And we’re going to get them all eventually, because they’d be too dangerous in the hands of the average Gotham rogue, obviously, but…we’ll deal with that after you’re gone. At the moment, we just need a few to send you back. So we’re planning to steal some from a warehouse Two-Face’s got downtown. He hasn’t been seen in Gotham for two months, so hopefully we’re going to get lucky. If you’ll excuse the pun.”

“Do you have a list?” Jason asks, suddenly afraid. “Of all the people he sold the orbs to?”

“Yeah, why?” Tim asks. “Wait- I can get it for you. Wait there.”

There’s a pause while Tim walks to the computer. In the meantime, Damian trots over, a very confused Bruce in tow.

“Young Todd,” Damian declares. “There are many pets for you to see, and not much time.”

“In a minute,” Jason says, distracted.

“In a minute?” Damian repeats. “Is there something more important than my vast array of-”

“Hold on, Damian,” Bruce holds up a hand, frowning. “He’s not trying to insult your pets.”

Bruce sits next to Jason, and puts a careful arm around his back.

“Jay?” He asks, voice soft. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“You heard about the case?” Jason asks. “About that guy selling orbs to criminals and shit?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says. “What about it?”

“What- what if he sold one to the Joker?” Jason asks, voice wobbling. “A-And he’s going to use it to go back and kill me all over again? People keep telling me I might not die in our dimension, but if he’s got one of those he can go anywhere- there might even be two of him-”

“Jason, that’s not going to happen,” Bruce says, voice firm.

“We will protect you, Todd,” Damian says, softly.

“You can’t protect me all of the time!” Jason says, breathing quickening. “You can’t protect me when I go back! I don’t have this much family there! He’ll get me!”

“Jason, breathe,” Bruce says, rubbing his back. “It’s alright. No-one’s getting you.”

“Hey, I have the list,” Tim says, a pad in his arms. He frowns at the sight before him. “Oh. Is this a bad time, or…”

“Is the Joker on the list, Drake?” Damian asks, eyes attentive.

“The Joker?” Tim asks. “Why? Why would he…oh.”

“If you could tell us,” Bruce says. “So we know what we’re dealing with. That would be great.”

“Of course,” Tim says, brow falling. He starts to scroll rapidly up and down the screen. “Okay. There’s transactions to a few people here…but no Joker.”

“Really?” Jason’s breathing evens a little.

“Yes,” Tim says. “Unless he ordered under another name-”

Damian elbows him.

“-But most likely yes,” Tim finishes.

“See, Todd?” Damian asks, sitting on the other side of Jason. He even puts a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need for emotional strain. It is all in hand now.”

Chapter Text

JASON. FOURTEEN.

“So let me get this straight,” young Bruce says, as they gather around the table. “Two-Face hasn’t just got one warehouse. He’s got two.”

Old Bruce is sat at the head of the table. He looks sick, and pale. Apparently, Jason’s planned meeting went worse than he thought it would. He feels bad. But Dick told him not to worry, and Jason trusts future Dick a little more now. So maybe it’s okay after all. The other Jason is here too. He’s stood up, though. Because sitting down just wasn’t cool enough for him.

“We believe that the orbs are stored in one of these warehouses,” Old Bruce says. “But, because it’s Two-Face, there’s an equal chance of it being in either. So I’ve devised a team plan.”

He puts an image up on the projector. There’s a line down the middle, with the teams set up as follows:

RESEARCH TEAM ONE:

1. BATMAN (CURRENT EARTH.)
2. ROBIN (CURRENT EARTH.)
3. ROBIN (PAST EARTH.)
4. SPOILER
5. NIGHTWING
6. RED ROBIN

RESEARCH TEAM TWO:

1. BATMAN (PAST EARTH.)
2. RED HOOD
3. SIGNAL
4. BATGIRL

Young Bruce frowns at the screen. “You’ve split us up.”

“I don’t want to evoke emotional distress,” Old Bruce says. “I just think it would be best, tactically, to have you apart. And according to skill sets…”

Barbara rolls her eyes. “What Bruce is trying to say is, Jay, you don’t have to worry about Bruce, and Bruce, you don’t have to worry about Jay. We’re going to look after you.”

“You don’t have to join us,” Old Bruce says. “We have more than enough people. And if-”

“No!” Jason bursts, leaning in. “We wanna come! We can do this, right, dad?”

Old Jason’s face melts. He looks like he wants to cry, so, naturally, he covers it up with a cough.

“I guess we can,” young Bruce concedes.

“The teams are lopsided,” Tim says, grimacing.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have a remedy for that,” Barbara presses a few buttons on the computer, and old Bruce’s name disappears from the screen. He makes a face.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Cass says, pointing a finger. “You’re ill.”

“She does have a point, father,” Damian says. “You do not look- the best.”

“Yeah,” Duke pipes up. “And it would be a liability to have you on the field like this…”

“It would not,” Old Bruce says. “I am fully capable of…”

He trails off. Old Jason raises his eyebrows at him.

Old Bruce sighs, putting his head in his hands. “Fine. But you planned this, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by taking you off earlier,” Barbara says, grinning. “You looked so happy making the list…”

Old Bruce coughs, ignoring the laughter around the table. “As I was saying. Each team will be guided by Oracle- and me as well, it seems- through each of the warehouses. Two-Face is out of Gotham, but resistance should be expected. For a man who leaves so much to chance, Harvey doesn’t like to do the same with his goods. Am I understood?”

A collective “yeah” sounds around the table. Even Jason finds himself chiming in.

“Alright,” Old Bruce says. “Then gear up. The sooner we leave, the better.”

JASON. NINETEEN.

Before they leave, Jason lingers near Bruce’s chair. He’s not sure why. Old Bruce is in it, setting up the comm links for each team. Jason doesn’t know why he feels like he needs to speak with him. He just does.

“Bruce?” He says, after a bit.

Bruce turns. He’s pale. Smiling, but pale. Jason can’t help but feel like that’s his fault. “Yes?”

“I um,” Jason itches at his hands. “After all of this is over. Can we talk?”

“Yes,” Bruce says, face softening. “I- of course.”

“I’ve been thinking about the whole therapy thing, and I think that maybe-” Jason sips in a breath. “Maybe I could try it. I’m not sure about the whole giving this up thing. But I could have therapy on the side. Like a casual thing? Because everyone else is having it? You know?”

“I do,” Bruce smiles. “I-I’m proud of you for thinking that.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Bruce reaches out to him. “Of course I am.”

Jason watches him for a moment, uncertain. And then he relaxes. “Okay.”

“After you come back. We’ll talk. I promise.” Bruce says.

“Alright,” Jason says, pulling away. Bruce lets him go. And then he stands a little, face filled with concern.

“Jason?” He asks.

Jason turns back. His heart is hammering. “Yeah?”

“I- I’m proud of you anyway,” Bruce says. It seems to echo through the cave, and something in Jason cracks. It’s all so new. It’s all so new. “I know I’m bad at saying it. But I just thought you should know.”

Bruce, being Bruce, sits back down as though nothing ever happened. But Jason knows he’s fretting and worrying and hyper analysing everything he’s just said. So he steps forwards, puts a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. It seems casual enough. And it’s something fathers and sons do, right? Right?

“Thanks,” he says.

Bruce smiles, patting the hand.

“Good luck out there,” he says. “It will be fine.”

“I know, dad.” Jason says, smiling.

He walks to the plane. And doesn’t realise what he said until it’s far, far too late to take it back.

Fuck.

JASON. FOURTEEN.

“Holy shit!” Jason says, as they reach one of the warehouses. “This is awesome!”

Damian walks beside him. “To what are you referring?”

“This outfit!” Jason does a cartwheel. Not as perfect as one Dick could’ve done, but a cartwheel nonetheless. “It’s so- light!”

“It’s the best generic armour we had,” Dick says. He’s at the front of the gang, escrima sticks in hand. “Sorry if it’s a little- um- dark.”

“I don’t mind it,” Jason says. He understands why they couldn’t put him in the Robin suit, with Damian being on the same team as him, and everything. It just feels a little-strange. “I just miss my green boots.”

“They’ll be reunited with you soon, Todd,” Damian says. “Alfred is working on them as we speak.”

Steph snorts. “It’s not a renovation project, Dami. He’s just giving them a little scrub.”

Barbara’s voice trickles through the comm. “Field names only, please, guys. Bruce is doing a frowny face at me.”

“Sorry!” Steph grimaces. “Sorry.”

“You’re letting the team down, Spoiler,” Damian smirks.

“Am not,” Steph says.

“Am too.”

“Am not.”

“Am-”

“Guys,” Dick says, all business now. “Can we at least try to be professional, please? We’re on a mission, not a social call.”

“So-rry,” Steph says. She looks to Jason. “Can you see how he was Batman now?”

“Yup,” Jason says.

“Don’t worry,” Tim says. “He wasn’t that grumpy all the time.”

Old Bruce’s voice takes the comm, making Jason jump. “You’re coming up to the warehouse now. There’s a set of stairs at the rear. It should take you to the roof.”

“Oh, cool!” Jason grins. “We’re dropping down on them!”

“No,” Old Bruce says. “You’re scanning the building. Then you’re dropping down.”

“Oh, okay,” Jason deflates. God. Their missions back home were never this complicated.

“Just follow Nightwing’s lead,” Oracle says, voice soft. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

“I fuckin’ hope so,” Jason mutters, miserably. “Why can’t we scan it from here again?”

“The building is laced with a substance our trackers can’t penetrate. The roof, however, is less vulnerable. You should be able to get a full-scale overview of the building from there.”

“Heh heh,” Steph grins. “Penetrate.”

Jason snorts. Dick looks at the both of them, appalled. “Is that the only thing you two got from that message? Seriously?”

“He could’ve used the words go through,” Steph says, still laughing. “Or scan. Or view. But instead- instead he- I’m sorry- it’s just too funny.”

Old Bruce sighs into the comm, which just makes Jason and Steph laugh more. Even Tim cracks a smile. Man, this team is so stupid. Jason’s sort of starting to love them a lot. Even Damian, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else right now.

“I’m working with children,” he declares. “Absolute children.”

They make their way up, and by the time they reach the room, Jason’s excitement has peaked. He can’t help it. He loves working with the Teen Titans when he gets the chance, but this- this is a whole new thing entirely. His entire family is a crime fighting team that actually works together and stuff! Holy fuck!

“Why do bad guys have glass ceilings again?” Jason asks, hands on his hips.

“So we can plunder their magical items, of course,” Damian says.

Tim squats to the side and scans the building. Once he’s done, he stands.

“Red Robin to Batcomputer. Building’s clear. No henchmen, nothing,” he says. “We’re going in to look for the orb. Let the other team know they’re probably going to encounter resistance.”

“Will do,” Oracle says. “Thanks for the intel. Over and out.”

“You don’t actually have to say that,” Damian points out.

“I know,” the smile in Barbara’s voice is obvious. “But I wanted to. Over and out.”

JASON. NINETEEN.

They’re on the warehouse roof, scanning the building, when the message comes in.

“Shit,” Duke says. “You guys heard that, right?”

“That the place is probably armed?” Young Bruce says. He’s frowning. “Yes.”

“Not probably,” Cass makes their way over to them, scanner in hand. “Definitely.”

“Shit,” Jason says, looking it over. “Twenty armed henchmen.”

“Two-Face really loves his twos,” Bruce says, sourly. He’s standing there in generic black armour, after much debate, in which Old Bruce refused to give him the actual Bat-suit. He’s still pissed off about it. Jason can tell. “Can we handle it?”

Cass looks between them. And she nods. “I think so. Hood?”

“Yeah,” Jason puffs out a breath. “I’m good to go.”

“Okay,” Duke says. “Then we stick to the plan. Move around in twos, spread out slightly, clear the room. Don’t take any chances. Hood, make sure you stick to non-lethal.”

“Obviously,” Jason rolls his eyes.

“Ready?” Cass asks.

“Yes,” Bruce says, voice serious. Oh boy. Jason can almost feel the eagerness oozing from him. He’s been begging for a scrap. In all honesty, they both have.

“Let’s go,” Cass decides.

They drop down. Two-Face’s men are scattered around in black and white clothing, which is adorable. They’re holding machine guns, which is…less. But they’ve stuck to the Two-Face aesthetic, which means only half of them are armed at all. Which is…incredibly stupid. But something they can exploit.

Duke and Jason are one pair, and Cass and Bruce are the other. They clear the room surprisingly easily. Eventually, there’s only one thug left. He doesn’t look like a threat, however. He surrenders immediately, and Bruce takes him out with a single blow to the stomach.

“Right,” Jason says. “So now we’ve just got to…find this fuckin’ orb thing, right?”

“You take the left side, I’ll take the right side?” Bruce asks, unsure.

Duke disappears for a second. And then he reappears, an orb in hand.

“Found it,” he declares.

Bruce scowls, even under a mask. “How did you- That’s-”

“Oh,” Duke laughs. “Yeah. I’m a metahuman, man. I can see where light was or is going to be. And there was a hell of a lot of light shining on that box over there.”

“Amazing,” Bruce says.

Jason shakes his head. “Let’s just get the fuck outta here, alright?”

“Not too soon,” a voice says.

It’s the thug. He’s standing up again, right as rain. And his voice…his voice sounds different. Jason immediately feels on edge. He should’ve known something was going on. He should’ve known…

“Y’see, I did hear rumours of two Batmen flying about,” the voice says. “But I never truly believed it until now. It is you under that garish costume, isn’t it, Batsy?”

“Who are you?” Bruce says, stepping forwards.

“I’m hurt!” The man says, taking off the mask. “I recognised you from your punches alone. And you- you don’t take a minute to recognise me!”

“It’s-” Bruce steps back in shock. “Joker?”

Fuck. Jason knew it. Jason knew it. Jason knew it. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“That’s better!” Joker laughs, hands in the air. “Y’see, once I heard about two Batmen…I figured there had to be two Robins! It’s not as if you go anywhere without ol’Bird Brain, is it!”

Bruce starts breathing very, very heavily. Jason starts lifting his guns. In the corner of his eye, he can see Cass planning out an attack. But all four of them are frozen. Frozen there. Doing nothing. Useless. And it’ll never be enough.

“So I made some purchases on Harv’s behalf. I don’t think he’ll mind. But you never know, these days. He changes his mind more than you’d think, you know.” The Joker stops to ponder. “Anyway! Where was I? Oh yes! Splatting your bird into the concrete all over again!”

Bruce snaps, and with a roar, dashes forward. Jason fires two shots at Joker’s knees because he knows what’s going to happen. But he’s too late. Joker crumples a little under Jason’s gunfire, but doesn’t fall. In fact, he does the exact opposite.

He pulls a gun from his pocket and fires.

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

The bullet soars past Duke, who manages to tug Bruce out of the way- and past Cass. But then, because fate is just cruel at this point, it tears right into Jason’s left arm. He hisses, falling to his knees. Cass manages to block one of the ones coming for Jason’s face. But the final shot tears deeper into Jason’s lower arm, and he crumples even more.

“Hood!” Duke yells.

“FuckingkillhimI’mgoingtofuckingIsweartoGod-”

“He’s hit,” Cass says. “Bad.”

“Just fucking get him!” Jason yells. “Get him, I swear to fucking God, because if you don’t, I swear to fucking God, I swear, I fucking swear-”

“Oopsie!” Joker says, laughing. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

His legs finally give way, but he gets the gun out again, and this time aims for Duke.

Bruce hits the gun out of his hand. And then he breaks the arm Joker was firing with. And then he breaks his other one. And then he pushes him to the ground. And then he brings his foot down onto his ribs. And then his upper arm. And then he tugs him back up, and starts punching him, again and again, until Joker’s face is a bloody, lumpy mess, and Duke and Cass start tugging him away in vain-

“Get off!” Bruce yells.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Batman!” Duke yells. “Stop!”

“I said get off!”

“You’re going to kill him!” Cass yells.

“He killed Jason!” Bruce roars, refusing to let go. “He killed my boy! And he was going to do it again- just for the thrill of it- just for the fucking thrill of it-“

“Bruce,” Jason gasps, holding onto his arm. There’s so much blood. So much blood, everywhere. And so many bodies. He can’t see through it all. “Please.”

“Jason,” Bruce says, frozen. He drops the Joker’s body.

“B-Bruce,” Jason says. He’s crying now. He can’t fucking help it. It’s too much Déjà vu. He hates it. He hates this. “Please. I just. I just want my dad.”

Bruce sprints over. Puts his arms around Jason, as tight as he can. He’s warm. And his gloves are all bloody. Covered in Joker’s blood. Jason’s blood.

“I just want my dad,” Jason says, panicking. He’s not dying. He feels like he’s dying. This blood loss is nothing new. “I can’t do it again. Please. Please get him.”

“Jason, you’re going to be fine,” Bruce says. “I’m so sorry.”

“Batgirl to Oracle,” Cass is saying. “Red Hood is injured. The Joker is here. We need backup.”

“No,” Jason says. “No backup. Please. He’ll kill them. He-he wants to kill little Jason. You’ve got…you’ve got to make sure he’s dead. He’s bleeding. Please. Please. He has to die. He has to.”

“Calm down, Jay,” Duke says, putting pressure on his arm. Jason grits out a scream. “You’re rambling. It’s alright.”

“I can’t do this,” Jason says, over and over. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Jason,” Old Bruce says, over the comm. “Jason. I am here. I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m dying, Bruce,” Jason says. He can’t breathe. The Joker is there, and he’s won again, and oh God let this be a dream. “I’m dying.”

“Listen to me. Your vitals are low, but you’re not dying. The wound is being compressed. Help is on its way. Do you hear me?”

“Bruce, the Joker’s here,” Jason says. “You’ve got to send them home. We’ve got the orbs now. Please. He’s going to kill them. Please. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” young Bruce says. “Not while you’re like this.”

“Hey,” Cass runs over. “The plane’s outside. We need to go.”

“Get the orbs,” Jason says. He feels sorta faint. The room is spinning. “Get them. Please. Please.”

“Breathe, Jason,” Duke hisses. “Breathe. We’re almost there.”

“Almost there?” Jason asks. “How? We’re on the…floor…”

He feels bouncy. Like he’s being carried. To where, he doesn’t know. As long as it’s somewhere the Joker isn’t…he doesn’t mind. It’s okay. It’s all okay.

“Dad,” Jason says, weakly. “Dad. I love you. Dad.”

He doesn’t hear a reply. Maybe that’s because his hearing’s going all weird. He looks up at the family he can see, and smiles.

“I love you guys,” he says. “Get them home, okay? I’m going. M’going to go to therapy when I get back. I promise. I just need to…to…”

He stops in his tracks. The world goes black.

JASON. FOURTEEN.

Jason sits by that stupid bedside for what feels like years, waiting for the older Jason to wake up. And when he does, he shoots up like a rocket, hair everywhere, and his arm in a sling. He looks around the crowd of people around his bed with mild confusion.

“What the fuck,” he says.

“Jason,” old Bruce says. He’s in the chair opposite. “Jason. You’re okay. Don’t panic.”

“What the fuck happened?” Old Jason asks. He looks around, eyes wide. “Guys? The Joker-”

“He’s dead,” Cass says, very quietly.

They all look at the older Jason, waiting for his reaction. If he’s anything like the young Jason, he’ll just break into tears right about now, and be hugged by Bruce for what feels like a lifetime. The older Jason just stares into space for a few seconds. And then he blinks, trying to focus himself.

“What?” He says.

“He’s dead,” old Bruce says, holding Jason’s hand. “His body…it…there was substantial blood loss.”

“You’re fucking joking,” old Jason says, looking around. He laughs hysterically for a second. “You’re joking.”

“We’re not,” young Jason says, eventually. “He’s really dead.”

“But-” old Jason pauses. He looks around, eyes springing with tears. “Someone always saves him. Always. You don’t believe in killing. It’s- it’s not your way. You can’t stand by me, after this. You can’t.”

“Jason, you didn’t shoot kill shots,” Tim says. “And he’d threatened the lives of everyone present, as well as many others. You did what you could to save their lives.”

“But he’s dead,” Old Jason murmurs. “You can’t stand by me. He’s dead.”  

Fuck. He’s trying his best not to break down in front of everybody, and failing. Jason knows how that feels. So he stands up, waving his arms, trying to get everyone to look at him instead. It works.

“Let’s not give him a fuckin’ audience, alright?” He asks. “C’mon. Give him space to take it in.”

“Yes,” young Bruce says. “Of course.”

“Before we go,” Duke says. “You should know, Jason. The orbs are working. We should have them safe to use within the hour.”

“It means we won,” Barbara says. “It means- after everything- we still won. Not him. Okay?”

“Okay,” old Jason says, in a way that makes it obvious he’s not really focusing on anything. Everyone starts to leave.

There’s things to do in the cave, so Jason gets up to leave as well. But old Jason sticks a hand out.

“Hey,” he says. “I gotta talk to you for a sec.”

“Okay,” young Jason says.

He sits down again. Eventually there’s only old Bruce, Alfred and Jason sitting around the older Jason’s bed. Jason’s not sure what he’s there for. It’s not like he can do anything, right?

“He’s not going to hurt you,” old Jason says. “If he’s really dead- he can’t hurt you. Not anymore.”

Jason nods. He’s starting to cry. He has no fucking clue as to why. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in any of this,” old Jason says. “I never said sorry. But I am sorry. To you and Bruce both. I just- I just wanted to help.”

“Masters Jason,” Alfred says, and they both look up. “The both of you have done more than enough to help this family. You are valued, we love you- and none of this is your fault.”

Old Bruce squeezes old Jason’s hand. And then he reaches over for the young Jason’s hand, and squeezes that too. “What he said.”

“But I killed the Joker,” old Jason says, crying. “I did what I fucking set out to do, all those years ago, and I just- I just-”

“It’s okay, Jay,” old Bruce says. “It’s going to be alright.”

“You don’t to worry about it now, at least,” Jason says. “I mean, you’ve got to send me and my dad back first. And even after that, nothing bad is going to happen. They’ll look after you.”

“He’s right, Jay,” Old Bruce says. “Try to stay calm.”

“I just- I can’t believe I did it,” old Jason murmurs. “A thousand dollar plan, a whole building of explosives, a crowbar, a resurrection plot, and he dies to two bullets to the fucking knees?”

“It sounds like a joke of a death, Master Jason,” Alfred says. “Which I’d say is rather fitting, wouldn’t you think?”

JASON. NINETEEN.

Barbara approaches him a few minutes later. Bruce left a couple minutes earlier to with the orb situation, and Alfred left to look after the younger Bruce. Jason wouldn’t blame him for feeling messed up after all this. Jason, personally? He’s going to have nightmares about that warehouse for fucking weeks.

“I can’t believe it’s real,” Jason says.

“Me neither,” Barbara admits. “But it is. You know that, right?”

“I just,” Jason shrugs, lost for words. “I always thought it would be a spectacle, if it happened, you know? He was such a- everyone knew him. And then he just- fucking crumpled.”

“Everyone’s the same in death, Jay,” Barbara sighs. “No matter what they did in life. And no matter how it happens.”

“It just hasn’t sunk in yet,” Jason admits. “How are you?”

“Shocked,” Barbara shrugs. “Paranoid. Mostly relieved. How’s your arm?”

“I’m going to be honest,” Jason says. “I can’t feel it yet.”

“You’re on a shitload of painkillers, that’s why,” Barbara says. “You’re lucky it didn’t hit the bone. Whatever bullets Joker was using, they were nasty. They cut right through your armour.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jason says. “It hurt like Hell.”

“I can tell,” Barbara grins. “You said some, uh, things, while in pain.”

“Things?” Jason’s eyes go wide. “Like what? What things?”

“You were being rather gross, Todd,” Damian strolls up, sighing. “Telling everyone how much you loved them. Over the public comm, of all things.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Dami,” Jason grins. “I was only dealing with the worst wound in the world.”

“It’s not the worst,” Damian argues. “Although. I am glad you are alright, Todd. The Joker got what he deserved.”

“Thanks, Dami,” Jason smiles. Damian pats the arm not riddled with bullets, and promptly leaves.

“That’s new,” Barbara says. “Usually it’s only his beloved Grayson that gets arm pats.”

“I’m levelling up in the world,” Jason grins. “Only took murdering the Joker to do it.”

“You’re going to have to start saying it was accidental,” Barbara says. “You know that. I know how much you wanted to…you know. But this family…it’s…”

“I know,” Jason rolls his eyes. “I know. Killing bad, saving good, etc. But it’s him, Barb. Just him. And he’s gone now. I- I did it.”

“I know,” Barbara squeezes his hand. “Listen, I’m going to go work on what the Hell I’m going to say to GCPD. You get some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Jason says. He closes his eyes for a moment. “Hey, Barb?”

“Yes?”

“Did I really overreact?” He asks. “On the comm? Was I really being all gushy and shit?”

“You were being quite…lovey,” Barbara smiles. “But, in your defence, you had just been through a bunch of bad shit. So, I think you get a pass.”

“Tim’s never gonna let the gushing part go,” Jason sighs.

“Maybe,” Barbara smiles. “But hey. You never know. You might get a pass for that too one day.”

JASON. FOURTEEN.

Jason finds his Bruce under the dinosaur statue, looking up. He’s taken off the armour from last night; washed the blood from his hands. But it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out he feels guilty. Death is death in Bruce’s book. Even if it was caused by Jason. And, for some strange reason, Jason feels guilty about it too. He wanted Joker dead too, for what he did to his mom. And what he did to him. But now the Joker’s actually dead…Jason feels empty.

“So I guess we’re going back soon,” he says.

Bruce turns around. His face is pale with grief and distraction. “Jason. Hey.”

“Are you ready?” Jason asks. “To go back?”

“Yes,” Bruce admits, rubbing his face. “Yes. I think I finally am.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jason says, placing a hand on Bruce’s arm. “The Joker.”

Bruce shakes his head. “Part of me…part of me will never want to take back what I did. I beat him bloody. I probably contributed to that blood loss- Hell, I don’t know. But part of me is horrified. I didn’t do enough. I was distracted, I should’ve known it was the Joker. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.”

“It’s okay,” Jason says. “I had hunches too. But I didn’t follow them. It’s okay.”

Bruce sighs, and puts a hand on top of Jason’s hand. “At least you’re safe. Both of you.”

“Course we are,” Jason grins. “We’re the most badass superheroes in the world. And we have you.”

“Yes, you do,” Bruce says, eyes washing with tears. “And you’ll always have me.”

Jason hugs him. And Bruce crumples right into it, his big hands resting on Jason’s back. Jason hasn’t seen him this fragile in a long, long time. But it’s okay. Because he’s there for him. He’s always gonna be. Because Batman needs a Robin. And Bruce needs his son.

“And I’ve got you right back,” Jason says.

Bruce kisses the top of Jason’s hair and pulls away. His eyes are swimming with tears.

“I am so proud of you, kiddo,” he says. “I’m sorry I haven’t done more.”

“It’s okay,” Jason says. “You had to sort out the other Jason and shit. And you did. He’s okay now.”

“He nearly got killed because of me,” Bruce admits.

Jason looks over to the older Jason’s bed. He’s playing rock paper scissors with Cass at the moment. Trying his best to keep smiling.

“He’ll be okay,” Jason says, turning back to him. “One day. I dunno. I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah?” Bruce asks, unsure.

“Yeah,” Jason nods. He squeezes Bruce’s arm. “Hey. If I really do die when I get back…”

“Don’t,” Bruce closes his eyes. “It’s not going to happen.”

“But if it does,” Jason stresses. “Bruce. Please. If the Lazarus Pit is still in our world…”

“Jason,” Bruce hisses. “I am not saying goodbye to you.”

“And I’m not either,” Jason says. “I just. I don’t want to be resurrected. Is all. Or…or buried next to Sheila. Is that alright?”

Bruce looks away. His jaw is very very tight.

“Dad,” Jason tugs on Bruce’s sleeve. “C’mon. Please. You can pretend it’s just in general. Please.”

“Fine,” Bruce says. He clutches onto Jason’s hand. “But no-one is dying. Do you hear me? I’m keeping you safe this time. I promise.”

“Okay,” Jason smiles softly. Then, he grabs Bruce’s hand and tugs him through the cave. “C’mon. Let’s go help with this orb shit!”

Chapter Text

JASON. NINETEEN.

By the time Jason’s out of bed, the cave is is full of people- working, chatting, hugging. Naturally, Jason makes his way over to the most confused looking person in the room, who just so happens to be Dick. He’s sitting near the computer, his arms crossed, and a cup of tea (most likely from Alfred) in his hands.

“So they’re going home now?” Jason asks.

Dick jumps a little. He’d been lost in thought before Jason’s approach. Now, he just looks sullen. And a little sad. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Man,” Jason leans against the computer. “Shit’s been wild.”

“It’s been a…strange few days,” Dick admits. He looks up at Jason. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” Jason looks over at the young Jason and Bruce, who are avidly talking to Damian about something. “Just wanna sleep, if I’m honest.”

“There’s gonna be plenty of sleeping after this is over,” Dick laughs. “I’m exhausted.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “Just worried about what we’re sending them back into.”

“If it’s the way I left it,” Jason says, “Joker is missing. Sheila is safe. And the warehouse has just exploded. So….”

“Yeah. It doesn’t sound too bad,” Dick admits. “I’m just…I’m still worried.”

“I guess I’m not the luckiest of people in any universe,” Jason shrugs. “But I don’t know. I’ve just got a feeling about this.”

“A feeling?” Dick presses, eyebrow arched.

“Yeah,” Jason shifts, uncomfortably. “Like. You know. A feeling.”

Dick looks at him for a moment, grinning. “Them being here. It’s changed you, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jason says, crossing his arms.

“You were being optimistic just now,” Dick says.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were,” Dick beams. “And you were smiling. And not in a sarcastic way. In a genuine way.”

“Dick,” Jason says, grimacing. “My arm is in a fucking sling.”

“Yeah, but, besides that,” Dick says. “You’re talking to us again, you’re talking to Bruce again, and did I hear Steph saying something about therapy earlier?”

Jason sips in a deep breath. Bites his lip. “…Yeah.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Little Wing,” Dick says.

“…Yeah,” Jason shrugs. “…I don’t know. I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, we’ll be here for you no matter what you choose,” Dick says. “And I hope you stick around. After all of this is over, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, voice distant. “Maybe.”

“And hey. About the Joker,” Dick says, eyes intent. “Babs told me she’s officially reported it as an accidental death. Bruce concurred. So officially…no-one knows it was you. No pitchforks, no fallout.”

“I just.” Jason grits his teeth. “I keep waiting for the pin to drop. I don’t regret what I did. But I keep thinking that…everyone’s just putting on a brave face. For the little me, I mean. And as soon as they’re gone it’s going to be the same as it was before.”

“Jason,” Dick grabs his arm. “Nobody blames you for what happened.”

“You can’t make exceptions for me, Dick. Killing’s against the code. According to that I don’t belong here anymore.”

“Fuck the code. You will always belong here,” Dick says. “Jay, you could kill a thousand people and still belong here.”

“What?” Jason asks, frowning.

“You’re part of this family,” Dick says. “That’s all there is to it. You are.”

“But-” Jason opens his mouth to argue. “I-”

“No. No buts,” Dick waves his hand in refusal. “No excuses. We love you. Get over it.”

“I sincerely hope you guys aren’t arguing,” Barbara wheels over. “Because I just sent Time-Twizzler down to GCPD. And there’s only so much more pathetic whining I can take right now.”

JASON. FOURTEEN.

“So Time-Twizzler’s going to prison?” Jason asks.

They’re standing near the orbs, getting ready to go. Jason’s got his Robin suit on again. Bruce has downed his cowl. And the family are surrounding them, ready to say goodbye. Jason doesn’t feel ready to return. Here feels safer than the past ever did. But even if he can’t stay, he’s glad that the future is sorted out. For this version of his family, at least.

“It’s the most likely outcome,” Duke shrugs. “He’s got a lot to answer for. And we’ve got a lot of crises to avert because of him.”

“I wish I could stay and help,” Jason says. “It was fun being part of a team again.”

“Hey, you’ll have a team when you get back,” Steph says. “Dick’ll be there, and Alfred…”

“But I won’t know any of you yet,” Jason frowns.

“You could always try and find us,” Steph suggests. “I mean, it might fuck up the space time continuum on a thousand different levels, but…it’s worth a try?”

“We’ll do our best,” Bruce promises, a hand on her shoulder.

“That would be nice,” Steph admits. “And hey. If you do find me in your world…don’t fire me as Robin this time around?”

“I, um,” Bruce frowns. “I’ll try.”

Steph grins before trapping both Jason and Bruce in a hug. “It was nice meeting you guys again.”

“You too,” Jason smiles. She lets go of them and stands aside.

“Good luck, both of you,” Tim smiles, shaking their hands. “It was cool meeting you.”

“Right back atcha,” Jason grins. Because it was.

Cass runs forward, a sheepish smile on her face. She pats Jason’s hair and grins.

“You were the best Robin,” she says. “Don’t tell Damian.”

“I am right here, Cain,” Damian reminds her.

She ignores him, ruffles Bruce’s hair as well, and steps to the side. Jason’s sad to see her go. He always wanted a sister. And, as sisters go, she seemed like the best.

Damian sighs, stepping forwards. He extends a hand to Bruce.

“It was nice meeting you, father,” he says, stiffly. “You exceeded expectations.”

“I’ll look for you,” Bruce says, warmly. “I promise.”

He pulls Damian into a brief hug, which Damian reciprocates. Then, he steps away, and holds his hand out to Jason.

“Batcow will miss you,” he says.

“I’ll miss her too,” Jason says, accepting the hand. “Your Robin suit is unbelievably cool, by the way.”

“Why, thank you,” Damian bristles with pride. “Yours is…adequate.”

“I think that’s the best review you’re gonna get,” Duke says.

“I’ll see you around, Duke,” Jason says. “By the way, your powers are really cool.”

“Thanks,” Duke says. They hug briefly, and Duke shakes Bruce’s hand.

“Oh God, we’re doing the line thing,” Barbara rolls her eyes.

“Why wouldn’t we do the line thing?” Bruce asks, confused.

“Because it’s straight out of Hollywood?” Barbara laughs. “Never mind. Come here, Boy Wonder.”

Jason runs into a hug. She rubs his back, smiling onto his shoulder.

“Just keep on going, Jay,” Barbara says. “No matter what. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jason says, pulling back.

“And Bruce,” Barbara says, looking to Bruce. “For the love of God. Make up with Dick.”

Bruce makes a face. “I’ll- try?”

“Oops,” Dick jumps in. “I guess that’s my cue, huh?”

“I’m gonna miss you, Dickhead,” Jason says, hugging him immediately. “Your hair is so much worse in my universe. And your outfit is drenched in glitter.”

Dick starts laughing.  “What’s wrong with glitter?”

“Everything!” Jason protests. “You’re not supposed to be brighter than the Batsignal, you know?”

“It brings out my eyes!” Dick laughs.

Jason rolls his eyes and steps back. “Never change, Dickie.”

“Right back at you,” Dick says. “And Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“Just. Hear me out, in the past. Okay? Whatever’s going on…it’s not worth splitting the family up,” Dick says. “I promise.”

Bruce’s face softens. “Okay.”

Dick rubs Bruce’s arm and moves on. Next is old Bruce. Oh dear.

“I hope you have a…safe journey,” he manages. He still looks a bit worse for wear, bless him.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Jason asks.

“I’m healing,” old Bruce confirms. “But my first concern is getting you both back safely.”

Young Bruce takes a few steps forwards and holds out a hand.

“Don’t fuck it up,” he says, stern.

Old Bruce nods, taking the hand. Then, he turns to Jason and places a hand on either side of his shoulders. He seems at a loss of what to say. So Jason puts a hand on his arm and nods.

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” he says.

Old Bruce’s eyebrows fall. He’s struck with grief.

“You cannot know that,” he says.

“No,” Jason shakes his head. “I can.”

Old Bruce stares at him for a moment, eyes wide. Jason hugs him as tightly as he can without pressing on his wounds. And then he steps back.

“It’s going to be okay,” he promises. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “Just stop blaming yourself once in a while. And start talking, Bruce. You’re a fuckin’ asshole when you don’t talk.”

“Thanks,” Old Bruce laughs a little, his head tipped down. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

“Good,” Jason says. And then he pauses, because the old Jason is walking towards them.

“Hey,” old Jason says.

“Hey,” young Jason says. “About the Joker…I’m sorry.”

Old Jason shrugs. “S’fine.”

“They’re not going to arrest you, are they?”

“No,” Old Jason says. “I mean, I don’t think so.”

“No-ones getting arrested,” Old Bruce puts an arm on old Jason’s shoulder. “I promise.”

“Good,” Jason says.

“I’ll see you around, kiddo,” old Jason pats Jason on the shoulder.

Old Jason turns to Bruce, who immediately hugs him.

“Hey hey hey,” old Jason grimaces. “Watch the injury, pal.”

“Sorry,” Bruce pulls away. “You will be okay, won’t you?”

“Yesss,” old Jason flushes.

“Because, if you’re unsure, you could always come with us,” Bruce says. “I know that sounds ludicrous. But we’d find a way…”

“I’ll be fine, old man,” old Jason shoves him. “Besides. You can’t have two identical children. That’d just be weird.”

“Twins exist, Todd,” Damian pipes up.

“Alright, alright,” old Jason bats a hand. “You know what I mean.”

Bruce puts a hand on old Jason’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’m glad I met you, Jay.”

“Right back atcha,” old Jason grins. “Now go. Get outta here.”

“I believe that was my cue,” Alfred says, holding an orb.

“Alfie?” Jason asks. “You’re doing it?”

“You sound so surprised, Master Jason.” Alfred blinks.

“I’m not,” Bruce grins.

Alfred sends him a very fond smile. “Are you ready, sirs?”

Jason looks at Bruce. Bruce looks at Jason, and wraps an arm around him.

“As we’ll ever be,” he says.

“Very well then,” Alfred says, pressing a few buttons on the orb. The number five appears in bright green atop it. “Godspeed, Masters.”

The last thing Jason sees is a wave of hands, and then…he world flies by.

THEN

Jason falls and falls and falls. And then he lands. His first instinct tells him that he’s in Ethiopia again, which causes him to panic- breaths quick and laboured. And then he opens his eyes. He’s on a wooden floor, not sandy ground. And he’s not dead…

“Bruce?” he calls, standing up.

He’s in the Manor all over again. He runs to the dining room mantelpiece, checks the photos there. He’s in them! Oh shit! He’s in them!

“This is my Manor!” He says, excited.

“Jason?” A voice says.

Jason turns around. Dick is standing in the hallway, eyes wide. They run to each other, and for a second Dick holds him at arm’s length, examining him.

“You’re back,” Dick says, in awe. “You’re really back!”

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” Jason says. “About the future, and your hair, and the family, and Alfred’s there too, and I’ve got white in my hair now- and-”

“Leave me something to say, won’t, you, Jason?” Bruce says, from the hallway. He’s being propped up by Alfred, who looks the happiest Jason’s seen him in a long while.

“You made it back!” Jason yells, running to him.

“As best he could,” Alfred says. “He did land on one of my prized vases.”

“It feels so good to be home,” Bruce says. “I missed you. Both of you.”

Dick smiles. “Really?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles back. “Of course.”

“Oh, stop being so silly,” Alfred tuts. “Come over here, all of you.”

Jason and Dick rush forwards. And they have a group hug, the four of them, for what feels like years.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Jason says. “I thought I’d be in Ethiopia again.”

“We were lucky,” Bruce says. “Very lucky.”

“There’s something you two need to see,” Dick says, suddenly, and breaks from the hug. He turns the living room television on, and they all turn to pay attention.

“Breaking News. Gotham resident and local doctor Sheila Haywood was arrested in Ethiopia last night after assisting the Joker in an attack that would’ve ‘killed hundreds. Vicki Vale reports.”

Jason rushes in front of the television. His heart is thumping under his armour. He can’t believe this.

“She’s alive,” he says, in awe.

He watches her images pass over the screen. She looks tired, a little annoyed- but alive. Jason doesn’t know how he feels about her yet, and what she did to him. He’s just glad she’s safe.

“The other Jason must’ve saved her,” he remarks, turning to Bruce.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Bruce says.

“The Joker has yet to be found, but the local police service is doing all they can to find a body. Commissioner Jim Gordon is yet to comment on the situation.”

“Yeah, you should probably update him on what’s going on,” Jason says.

“What is going on?” Dick asks.

Jason looks at Bruce for clarification, and Bruce just laughs.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, eventually. And for the first time in days, Jason believes him.

NOW

The sun rests high up above. Bruce isn’t talking this time. They’re standing, side by side, in front of Catherine’s grave. The leaves dance around their feet.

“Happy birthday, mom,” Jason says. He stoops down, touches the gravestone.

Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder. In his other hand is a bouquet of tulips. Red, just like her.  

“Thanks,” he says, looking to Bruce.

“Of course,” Bruce says. He puts an arm around his shoulder. “She would’ve been proud of you.”

“Yeah,” a tear escapes Jason’s eye. “I reckon she would.”

They stand there in silence, deep in thought. Jason wipes the tears from his cheeks and touches the grave one more time. Then they walk, side by side through the graveyard.

“Y’know, I’ve got an interview tomorrow,” Jason says. “For a law school?”

“A law school?” Bruce asks, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have figured that.”

“Me neither,” Jason grins. “But. Y’know. Thought I’d try something different.”

“You’d be great at it,” Bruce smiles. “You know I’m here to help with funds, or anything you need…”

“Thanks,” Jason shrugs. “But I think I wanna do this on my own, you know? I’ve got a new name and everything.”

Bruce looks at him inquisitively.

“Todd Peter.”

“Jason,” Bruce’s face breaks into a smile.

“Okay, I’m kidding,” Jason says. “That’s not it. I just wanted to see your face. I think I’ll be good at it if I get in, though. Representin’ and shit. Fighting for rights a different way.”

“I fear anyone on the opposition.”

“Me too,” Jason beams. “And hey. If I don’t win against some proper asshole, I can just give you guys a call, and you can give him a good ol’visit after dark…”

“Jason,” Bruce says. “That’s not the way we work and you know it.”

“I’ll hire you.”

“With what money?”

“My allowance,” Jason clicks his tongue. “Duh.”

“I’m not sure that’ll work.”

“It’ll work fine,” Jason says. “I call you, you move in, handing out ass-whoopins left right and centre, the victims get the compensation they need…everyone’s happy.”

“We’re not some kind of judiciary strike force.”

“Yeah, but you fight for truth and justice and honour and shit.”

“I think that’s the Justice League.”

“Yeah,” Jason squints. “Me too.”

They walk, arm in arm, to Bruce’s car. The sky is bright. There’s laughter in the air. And the world is new.