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“This is your fault,” Jason grumbled as he wrapped his arms around himself, trudging after Bruce through the knee high snow, vision impaired as the wind picked up. If Bruce hadn’t been wearing his batsuit, Jason figured he would have lost him to the winds.
Bruce’s sigh came over the comm with a wave and static and Jason winced, tucking his gloved hands under his arms.
“There’s a cave not far from here,” Bruce said gruffly, though Jason really seriously did not believe him. It was more part of his code against everything Batman than anything to do with the fact that this was Bruce’s fault to begin with.
“You said that ten minutes ago,” he muttered, fighting to keep his teeth from chattering.
Bruce merely hummed. “There.”
Jason looked up. He didn’t see shit. He told Bruce as much. The man didn’t reply, of course. Jason rolled his eyes but a second later, said cave finally came into sight.
“Finally,” Jason hissed as they moved inside out of the snow storm and shook themselves off. “This is the last time I patrol with you .”
Bruce sighed. “What did I do, Jason?” he asked as he knelt down to begin building a fire. “Why are you-”
“Did you seriously just fucking ask me what you did?” Jason snarled. “You let me die!”
Bruce closed his eyes to prevent himself from saying anything. The only reason he had been patrolling with Jason outside of Gotham - a case Dick had somehow bullied Jason into asking Bruce for help with - was because Dick had told him that the best way to make up with Jason was to offer help when he wanted it.
So here they were, all because of Dick. Bruce shook those thoughts away, finally getting the fire started.
“Come over here,” he told Jason. “Get warm.”
“Why should I listen to you?” Jason snapped, even as he dropped down on the other side of the fire from Bruce.
“If you want to freeze, then you can,” Bruce said, taking his own seat.
Jason pressed his lips together before forcefully removing his helmet and setting it aside. It wasn’t like it was helping him anyway.
“Don’t pretend to care,” Jason snapped, itching for a fight and hating the fact that Bruce refused to rise to the bait. “I’ve seen the fucking epitaph in the cave. ‘A good soldier’. That’s all I am, all I was to you, Bruce, admit it!”
“What do you want me to say, Jason!?” Bruce roared. “That I damn near lost myself after you died? That Dick was the only reason I didn’t fucking slaughter the Joker for killing you?! Do you want me to tell you how I put Dick and Joker in the hospital out of rage? Do you want me to tell you how I never fucking stopped blaming myself for not being a little faster?! Yes , it was my fault! I let you die! I didn’t get there fast enough! And I will never let myself forget that.”
Jason stayed silent, eyes wide because what the fuck was he supposed to say to that shit?
All this time he’d thought Bruce hadn’t cared…
“Get some rest,” Bruce ordered, clearly done sharing. “We’ll leave as soon as the storm dies down.”
………………
Jason woke up freezing and sat up slowly, cursing and curling up as he tried to stop himself from shivering. With his eyes closed, he never saw Bruce move and so he jumped when the other’s warm body was suddenly pressed against his, the heavy cape falling over his shoulders and enclosing him in it’s warmth.
Tentatively, Jason glanced up and found Bruce seated next to him, eyes ahead. “B?” he hesitated to ask. “You alright?”
Bruce hummed non-commitaly before pulling the cowl back to look down at Jason. “I lost you once,” he said quietly. “I’ll be damned if I let you die again.”
……………….
ONE MONTH LATER
Jason frowned down at the box in front of him, filled with bullets and weapons. Knives and first aid kits. On top of it was a note.
I might not approve of your method. It said. But if I can help you be more prepared to fight whatever steps in front of you, if I can do anything to help you stay alive, I will.
Bruce.
If Jason didn’t try to kill Bruce the next time he saw him on patrol, well, that was their secret.