Work Text:
"Alright, shitface," Jason announces, with the usual tact. "Get up. We're going out."
Batman turns around. All frown, all cape. He's been sat in front of the Batcomputer for the past five hours. He has no intention of "going" anywhere.
"No."
"It's nice to see you too, old man."
"Where have you been?"
"How long has it been?" Jason grins at the ceiling. "What, like, three months?"
"Four," Bruce turns around again. "And as I said. I'm not going anywhere."
"Technically, you only said no," Jason says.
"What do you want, Hood?"
"Hey. It's Jason now," Jason grins, sitting on the side of the computer. "No Hood, look?"
"That. Is not. A chair."
"Anything's a chair if you try hard enough," Jason said. "Y'know, I once dared Dick to climb that stupid fucking T-Rex once."
Unmistakable grief shoots across Bruce's face. He masks it almost immediately. It doesn't change the fact that it's there.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, he did climb it. And in the process, sat on it. Making it it a seat."
"You didn't emerge out of nowhere to lecture me about what can and can't be a seat."
"No," Jason crosses his arms. "I didn't. Get your pasty ass up."
"How did you even get in here?"
"My top clearance." Jason grins. A big, white, artificial smile. "Obviously."
"The top clearance you don't have."
Jason's smile falls. "Well. The top clearance Alfred has, then. If you're going to be picky about it."
"I asked not to be disturbed."
"Too bad."
"Why are you even here?"
"Why am I here? Alfie decided you were being an asshole, that's why." Jason scowls. "And what do you know? He was right."
"What Alfred or you think is not my priority right now," Bruce grunts. "I'm working a case."
"So?" Jason says. "You're always working a case."
"Why are you acting like a child?"
"Why are you acting like a child?" Jason retorts. "Listen, old man, the people up there might be willing to tolerate more of your shit than usual, because you're grieving your dead or dying relationship or whatever, and you think that somehow gives you the license to be shit to everyone and not take care of yourself- but I'm not. I've taken my maximum share of you being a pussy. So shut up, get up, and get in the damn elevator."
Bruce freezes for a second. A new, uncertain vulnerability seeps in.
"Who told you about Selina?"
-
"I mean, I first knew because no-one sent me pictures. I was so sure there were gonna be pictures."
They're in a diner. Jason's attacking the ice cream in front of him. Bruce is frowning at the outrageously tall, outrageously frothy hot chocolate before him.
"We decided to have it on a roof."
"What?"
"In the end...we...we decided to elope."
"On a fucking roof?"
"Why not?"
"That's fucking stupid, Bruce. I mean. For God's sake. This is Gotham. How'd you know Riddler wasn't going to start a raid of- fucking, I don't know- brain bombs or some shit?"
"We didn't."
"Jesus Christ," Jason shakes his head. "Okay. But what about the whole entire fucking venue you had Alfred prepare. Like. He threw his whole life into that shit."
"There was...going to be an afterparty." Bruce manages. "But I suppose we don't have to worry about that now."
"Oh, Bruce." Jason shrugs. "It'll be fine. She just needs some time or something."
"What would you know about it," Bruce says. He's in a three-piece suit, and he doesn't know why. He feels stiff. His whole body aches. He just wants to sleep.
"What would I know about it?" Jason puts a hand on his face. The glee in his eyes is dying. Reverting to anger.
"You weren't here," Bruce says, cautiously.
"Oh yeah, so because I wasn't in the exact same place as you, I suddenly don't know anything about grief? About heartbreak? About you?"
Bruce frowns harder.
"As it happens, I know a lot," Jason says.
"I know you do."
Bruce puts his head in his hands. He's still frowning underneath. Jason can sense it.
"I know you do."
"Bruce," Jason says, helplessly.
"I am fine."
"Bruce."
Bruce looks up. Jason doesn't look mocking anymore. He just looks sad.
"I know you were there. When Dick...y'know."
"I don't want to talk about that."
"I know. I just. I saw him earlier. He seems better."
Bruce shifts uncomfortably.
"Was asking for you, actually."
"I just," Bruce stares at the table. "I can't."
"I get it," Jason says. He attacks the ice cream in front of him some more. "Hey. Your hot chocolate's getting cold."
Bruce drinks a little. It's horrid.
"I saw Selina too," Jason offers, still looking at the ice cream. "At the hosptial."
"She was there?"
"Yeah," Jason scowls. "I mean, why wouldn't she be? She knows us, she lived with us..."
"I just...I expected..."
"You thought she'd stay away, right?" Jason grins. "God, you really are stupid."
"Did she say anything to you?"
"Nah," Jason starts mixing the rest of the ice cream up. "I mean. We've never had much to say to each other. But, y'know. It was nice seeing her and all."
"I thought she'd left Gotham," Bruce admits. His shoulders are tense and high.
"No-one ever leaves Gotham, Bruce." Jason says. There's a glassy, strange look in his eyes. "Even after they leave."
-
"I'm not sure you should be driving."
"I had ice cream, Bruce. Not a vial of Scarecrow toxin."
"Nonetheless," Bruce says, uneasy in the passenger seat. "You were never the best driver."
"That was then," Jason grins, narrowly missing a stoplight, "this is now."
Bruce stares at him for a while. Eyes narrow.
"Are you really going to make me say it." He says, finally.
"Say what?"
"Where have you been?"
Jason smirks. "And there was me thinking it'd be I love you."
"I do love you, Jason," Bruce says, incredibly deadpan. "Where have you been."
Jason lets out a short, burst of a manic laugh. And then he dies down immensely.
"Looking for Artemis and Bizarro." He says. "I mean, after the whole Penguin shit died down...I'm gonna be honest with you. I needed a distraction."
"Did you find them?"
"No."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me too."
"You were never under arrest here," Bruce continues. "I want you to know that. You could've stayed."
"I know," Jason says. "I just- I couldn't."
"I understand." Bruce says. "I want to run, sometimes, too."
Jason snorts. "Oh, please. You couldn't run from this fucking city if you wanted."
"I know."
"And I wasn't running. I was going to help the people who need me," Jason pointed out. "It's what I did then. It's what I'm doing now."
Bruce, for the first time that night, starts to fight tears. "And after?"
"Well, I guess I'll be out there looking for them again," Jason grins, tapping his fingers on the wheel. "Although... I did have this great idea involving the Iceberg Lounge..."
"Don't even think about it."
Jason cackles. The car comes to a sudden stop.
"Gotham Memorial?" Bruce says, frowning.
"It's about damn time."
Bruce opens his mouth to object. And then he thinks of Dick lying there, and finds that he can't anymore. "Yeah."
"You'll be fine, old man," Jason pats his shoulder, perhaps a little harder than is necessary. "Sure, he looks like shit, but he's talking like Dick again, and that's the important part."
Bruce lets out a shaky, uncertain breath to the floor. "Yeah."
"Look at me."
Bruce does.
"He fucking needs you. Get out there."
Bruce undoes his seatbelt. And, for the first time that week, smiles a little.
"Thank you, Jay. I mean it."
"Hey," Jason says. "What are disposable sidekick-sons for?"