Chapter Text
Uncommon Upbringings
Catherine had a hard time breathing as she held the infant close to her chest in the waiting room of Wayne Enterprises. The baby cooed and made a whining noise, as if he sensed her panicked heart and she shushed him gently, making him whine more. She sent a panicked glanced towards the secretary in the office, who gave her an understanding smile to try and calm her nerves.
“It’s okay, Jason. It’s okay.” Her throat tightened and she tried to choke out the words, as if trying to make herself believe them. “I-It will be alright. You’ll see. Y-you’ll see. It’s okay baby. Calm down Jay-baby.”
She tried not to cry as she bounced him more. Rubbing his back through the thick comforter wrapped around him to keep him warm. She had met Jason weeks ago, left in a laundry basket with a letter and some paperwork explaining his situation. The doctor who stayed there was long gone and not coming back. She had abandoned her baby in the hotel with the baby screaming, pink and even a little wet. Was he born there? Had the woman really just given birth in their hotel room and left without so much as a word about her child? Catherine had been much too horrified at the notion to ask any of her coworkers about her, and too occupied watching her new charge. Her new… son.
Or that was what she so desperately wanted to call him. Her little boy, her little Jay-baby, her own personal hero who gave her the one thing she would never get to have herself: a child.
However, he had a father. Or rather, he could have one.
Bruce Wayne, the young, eccentric, new CEO of Wayne Enterprises, who had barely been back in Gotham for a year. A flirty playboy and self proclaimed “Prince of Gotham,” whose apparent representation left his image… rather deplorable to Catherine’s eyes. Another rich heir fucking his way through Gotham.
Literally, if Jason’s existence had anything to say.
Upon reflection, Catherine didn’t want to hand over Jason. Bruce’s filthy reputation, as well as his suspicious absence and sudden arrival, made her skin crawl at the idea of handing Jason over to him these past two months.
However, he was the boy’s father. And as much as she wanted to focus on the bad, he was also very good for Gotham. In the last four months alone, he had created hundreds of local job opportunities for the inhabitants of Gotham. His donations to local schools and charities in the lower districts were revitalizing Gotham’s youth and tackling gang recruitment head on. He even made a very bold statement in regards to taxation recently, stating that he would place the millions of dollars he should have been taxed by the government directly into Gotham. Funding road development as well as food and housing organizations to tackle the horrific state of Gotham’s infrastructure.
He was complicated. Looking him up on the local library computer, Catherine was sure he was more than a party animal hell bent on repopulating the city one mother at a time. He also wanted to help. He wanted to make the world better.
She still had no idea if that meant he wanted to be a father, let alone a good father to her son.
A good father to Jason.
This thought was only exaggerated when she came across old blog posts about an article from the Gotham Gazette, claiming he had another illegitimate heir overseas as a teenager. A Richie Greybeard or something. Catherine was unable to learn much more about it however, as Bruce had threatened the papers with a lawsuit, forcing the story to be redacted. Some speculated it was to hide something sinister.
Holding Jason close, she thought about Bruce Wayne possibly abusing the only thing she loved and it sent her spiralling, almost enough to make her flee the office. She had known Jason for barely two months, but that was his entire life on this planet and she couldn’t let the rest of it end in turmoil! Not after his tragic start!
“Ms. Todd.”
“You can’t touch him!” Catherine screamed.
The secretary jumped in shock, and Catherine felt her cheeks flush. The lady kept looking at her judgementally, as if wondering if she was an escaped inmate from Arkham. No doubt her finger was hovering over the panic button under her desk. Slowly, she continued her message.
“Mr. Wayne will see you now.”
Catherine glanced between the office and the elevator. If she ran now, she could leave and maybe Mr. Wayne would never look for her. Never care.
Never know his son… never know Jason existed…
That, as she'd learned two months ago, truly was the worst torture in the world. With one deep breath to settle her nerves, she turned to the door and walked into Bruce Wayne’s office.
Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham. At sixteen he went missing, and ended up traversing the world on multiple adventures. Some said he left so he could gain mythical kung fu abilities; others said he finished his schooling in Germany because their drinking age started at sixteen and he wanted to party. Others said he and a clown got together and had five babies, which chased him around the world before forcing him to pay child support.
Literally no one believed that last story.
But everyone knew that almost one year ago, Bruce Wayne had returned at the ripe age of twenty-two. He was eccentric, a womanizer and immediately took over his family’s company. This party animal had removed multiple shareholders, who were then taken down by some ravaged vigilante for connections to the mob. As a result: he was currently the most powerful man in Gotham.
And he was face down on his desk, possibly drowning in his own drool.
Jason wiggled at the snores.
“Mr. Wayne…. Sir?” Catherine started. She got a snort in return and another loud snore. “Jason, baby… you know you could probably wake him up if you felt like crying again.”
Instead of complying, Jason just blinked up at her, seemingly tired from his previous outburst.
“Okay baby, ma-…my…I got this…I’ll wake up your…daddy,” she said, stopping her own tears. She took a breath, calming herself.
Then took another breath so she could tear this man asunder.
“GOOD SIR! PLEASE WAKE UP AND MEET YOUR BABY!”
Mr. Wayne launched up, his arms raising in defense as Jason started crying due to her outburst. His eyes landed on Catherine, a crying woman, and Jason, a crying infant in shock and confusion. Then they did that four more times before he sat up straighter and tried to subtly wipe the drool from his lips.
“Um, ma’am… Thank you for scheduling this meeting today Ms. — “
“This is your baby!” Catherine cried.
“…Todd. Um… Ma’am, I don’t believe we've ever met.”
“We haven’t. He’s not mine,” Catherine said. Her voice was scratchy and trembling. But she went to sit in front of him and pulled out an envelope and a letter she had been hiding. They were the only possessions Jason owned. “He’s yours… Only yours.”
Catherine watched as Bruce blinked in shock and stared at the letter that was addressed to him in clinically handwritten letters. Slowly, he pulled the paperwork from her trembling hands. She watched in silent wonder as he opened the letter first. His face drained of all colour, eyes moving rapidly as they devoured the text until they got to the owner’s name at bottom of the letter.
Sheila Haywood.
Bruce Wayne’s entire demeanor changed as he looked between the letter, Catherine, her baby, and the door. His muscles clenched, his back curved, and suddenly, he looked like a predator ready to pounce. Catherine's heart accelerated when his finger slammed down on the intercom between them.
“Kristina! Cancel everything I had to do today. I don’t care when or where you reschedule it to, just do it!” He demanded, his voice deeper and more commanding than it had been a minute ago. It made Catherine jump and stand to take a step back, her body demanding that she run away—only for him to turn his ice-blue eyes on her. She watched as his hand went into his pocket and she froze; seeing her life flash before her eyes as she held Jason closer, ready to shield him from any weapon he was about to reveal when Bruce took out a phone, and pressed one number.
“Leslie, I need you to come to work right now-… I can’t… hello Leslie... Better?” His voice changing from commanding to exasperated. Catherine watched as he rubbed his face, almost using the motion to hide sudden embarrassment. “Good. Now, please come over to WE now; it’s an emergency! I’ll explain when you get here, just bring multiple paternity tests.”
With that he hung up (much more gently than before) and pocketed the phone away. He looked straight at Catherine’s face, as if trying ignore the crying baby in her arms.
“Tell me everything you know.”
Bruce stared as Leslie swiped the inside of the baby’s cheek as the little thing yawned. It was so small—he…he was so small.
Just under nine months ago, Bruce had spent the night with one Doctor Sheila Haywood. She had been sassy, sarcastic and a little mean but also strong, cunning… They ended up dating for a week before Bruce realised what a monster she was and called it quits; something she was more than happy to do. Apparently, she had only dated him to get access to an elite bourbon on their second date (Had she drunk while the infant was created? Would that hinder his already stunted development?). Apparently, some 7+ months later, their son had been born early, possibly in a hotel, and rather than call anyone or contact him directly, Sheila had just abandoned their (his?) son, where this cleaning lady, Catherine, had picked him up and has been raising him for about two months.
Catherine hadn't put the baby (his son…) down since then. But this entire ordeal was too much for Bruce to comprehend. The timeline was too much of a coincidence. The letter, too concise. The events that proceeded after his birth… too tragic. It was all too much and could not be real.
So… why had the first test come back positive?
“Just one more time to be safe. Hey, hey-hey, stop squirming,” Leslie said, looking at the baby that had just now decided to start fussing.
“He’s not used to so many people,” Catherine apologized, pulling out a knapsack with one hand and starting to make a bottle while juggling the baby. Bruce raised his eyebrow at the cheap formula; it reminded him of the brands Mary once told him to avoid when he shopped for Dick. His little baby had been a very picky eater back then, and had a taste for the expensive brands.
His baby… Dick was supposed to be his only baby…
“Let me do that for you,” Bruce said, getting up and reaching for the bag on her arm, but Catherine stepped away in fear and held the baby closer. Bruce moved slowly, carefully trying to face away from her and keep his movement non-threatening as he reached for the formula again. Earlier she had looked ready to bolt from his office when he called Leslie, and he didn’t want to risk her reaching that level of fear again.
“Why…” Bruce started, looking for the kettle he kept in his office so he would be able to use to make a bottle. “Why would you try to reach out to me now, months later… Why wait so long?”
Catherine ran a thumb over the baby’s cheeks. Looking closely, Bruce tried to remember if Sheila had freckles, and if he could expect some on the child when he was a little older.
“At first I was in shock… He was just…there.… Left alone in the hotel. I thought for sure she would come back… but she never did. I had read the letter but I didn’t really believe… I mean how could a mother be so cruel? And then I took him home. I waited, thinking she would contact you, or me, or the hotel, that there would be a manhunt all over Gotham for him. But no message was ever released. I thought maybe you really didn’t know? And then… how could I POSSIBLY get in contact with you? If I went to your house, you would have just slammed the door in my face.”
Bruce would never… but with his reputation, he could understand where the thought came from.
“And here in your company it was… terrifying. It’s terrifying to be here. I had nothing to offer, but it was… was the only way to reach you. But I couldn’t just call you about this. You would never believe it. So, I…”
“Lied,” Bruce finished. He remembered now. The meeting was supposed to be about a small company wanting to sell its assets to Wayne Enterprises. A small meeting that, looking over the stats that were provided, was basically a waste of time. The paperwork alone was an obvious lie, hence he decided to use the time for a nap. This however was…
“I honestly would have preferred it if you called me at home via the yellow pages.” Bruce joked, looking at the woman juggle around the crying blanket lump. The kettle finally clicked off, allowing him to make the formula.
Catherine gave a small choked laugh, but took formula when offered, squirting some on her wrist and wincing.
“Careful, it’s— “
“Too hot. It has to be room temperature when he eats.” She gasped, shaking her hand to alleviate the pain. Bruce couldn’t help but analyze her. Sometimes she was crying and pitiful, other times she would smile so tenderly, and once in a while, it seemed like she was on the verge of bolting out of the office, baby and all.
She acted like a mother… as if the boy was her son…
“You clearly have affection for my—the baby.” Bruce said, choosing his words carefully. “So why are you telling me at all when you knew I’d take him back?”
Catherine lowered her head, covering the baby’s face with her hair.
“The only thing worse than living my life… was living my life without Jason in it. I couldn’t let you feel that same pain.”
And there was nothing Bruce could say to that.
They did a third test before Bruce was 100% satisfied.
Catherine walked around the room, rocking the baby to keep him calm (it was probably more for her anxieties than his). Meanwhile, Bruce had gone completely white as he stared at the wall, thinking about the implications.
For one brief, all-consuming moment, the idea of giving hush money to Catherine entered his mind. He’d let her take the baby and he’d never see it again. The paper trail would go cold and Jason would never have to know who he was.
But that thought was murdered in an alley the moment it came into existence. As soon as he saw the letter, when the first test came back positive, he knew that he was keeping Jason. His son.
He saw his life flash before his eyes. Every plan he had put into motion for the next ten years. Every business effort, every charity gala. Heck, he'd already planned at least five dates in the next week alone that he was going to have to cancel. Everything he thought his life would be would change thanks to this baby.
And that’s not even including his plans for the night.
Leslie was packing up, but had asked what kind of medical services Jason had, especially for being born premature. And it was next to nothing. Catherine hadn’t had the time to go to a clinic and couldn’t afford the shots Jason needed.
His two-month-old, premature baby that he hadn't known about until seven hours ago, hadn’t seen a doctor until today! (‘SHEILA DIDN’T COUNT,’ his internal thoughts raged) and had been living without his vaccinations.
He stayed silent. Sitting in his chair and watching the white walls of his office. In his mind, her heard Celtic Woman singing "Scarborough Fair", but that may have been him going into shock. It was scratchier than normal. Odd since their harmonies were always so on point. In fact, there were so many oddities in it. Why did it sound so sad?
It took him too long to realise it couldn’t be Celtic Woman.
Catherine finished the song and he heard a small coo in response.
“In the envelope,” Bruce began quietly. “Sheila left a partially filled birth certificate… I want to sign it.”
Catherine just nodded, making no move to get it for him. Once it was signed, they both knew her time with Jason would be over. That she’d lose him.
“You know, if I was a horrible person, I legally could see this as a kidnapping. There could have been legal consequences for you.”
Once again Catherine just nodded.
“I won’t do that, of course. I only have him because of you. And although I’m forever grateful, I’m against you going to the press about this. Jason doesn’t deserve to be scrutinized by the public. If you require compensation to stay silent or need it to make up the cost of watching him I can- “
“No. I won’t accept that.” Catherine said quietly, but firmly. “I won’t ever tell anyone about Jason. I'd never do anything to could hurt him. And if I accepted your money it wouldn’t… it would be like erasing the time we spent together. It would be like he was never my son.”
Bruce believed her and bit his lip to keep silent about the last part.
“Can I... hold my baby?” he asked.
His baby… He had another baby…
Catherine held Jason so much tighter, her breath becoming gasps as she brought her face down over his. Bruce saw her give a kiss to his head before she offered him over. “Support his head.”
With a shaky breath of his own, Bruce followed her advice, taking the blanket and baby. He was so incredibly light, he weighed almost nothing. He was certain the blanket ended up being heavier than the baby inside. The corner of the blanket had fallen over the face of the little thing and slowly, Bruce pulled it back to get his first look at his baby’s face.
There were no freckles after all, and his cheeks were a little hollow. This wasn’t a fat, pudgy, bouncing baby like Dick had been, but a small, quiet, tired baby who was beyond fragile. He was two months old and had the stature of a newborn, maybe smaller. He was pale, and had almost no hair except a touch of black fuzz on the top of his head. His eyes opened and they were huge, beautiful aquamarine eyes that reminded him of the ocean.
He heard Catherine move and turned to see her trying to offer him the backpack.
“This has his favourite toys. Clothes. I know you can afford more but…this is everything I could afford—"
Her voice was breaking and the bag dropped from her trembling hand. Bruce watched it fall to the ground, unable to grab it while still holding his son. Jason started crying again at the loud “thud” it made and reached for Catherine, as if asking her to hold him again.
Catherine stepped forward, her arms reached out before stopping suddenly and snapping them back to herself, as if to forcibly prevent herself from taking the child away from him. She shared one last look with Bruce before finally backing away. He watched her backup slowly and heard Jason’s screams and her gently trying to tell him it was ok. That this was better. His own mind was starting to go dull, shutting down as he watched her turn and run away, clearly unable to handle the baby crying for her in his arms. The pain on her face haunted him, as if he was the one stealing her child away.
And as he watched her flee, the world filled with static, only interrupted by the loud screams erupting from his arms.
It took a while for him to come back to himself. In his memory, he saw things in passing. His secretary staring in shock. Leslie making a phone call. Her helping him into the backseat of a limo, his baby safe in his arms as Alfred drove them home slowly. The realization that he needed to get this baby an age appropriate car seat.
All he could truly remember was Jason in his arms as he tried to hush him, and the stuffed piglet he fished out of the bag Catherine had given him.
Jason seemed to love the piglet. He kept putting his hand over its snout and eyes, and tried to put it in his mouth.
His son was eating pig… His mom and grandmother probably would have disapproved.
“I must say, you were much more composed upon Master Richard’s birth,” Alfred said, placing a cup of tea besides him. “I do wish you had called ahead so I could have prepared the nursery by the time we arrived.”
Bruce looked around, they were in a sitting room, his parents' picture looking down at him as the fireplace glowed softly. His baby was out of the old blanket he'd come in. Bruce could see he'd actually been in a green onesie the entire time, with two of the top buttons undone, and was now swindled in an old red baby blanket that had once belonged to Bruce.
“However, under these circumstances, I suppose it is reasonable for even the feared Batman to get a little tongue tied.”
“His mother abandoned him… I didn’t know,” Bruce choked out. “Alfred…what if there were others? What if he’s not the first child I abandoned. What if I am repopulating Gotham at a speed it can’t contain! What if I ruin his life? He was left in a hotel! What if he gets sick because he didn't receive medical treatment when he was born? What if he—“
Bruce felt a hand over his and looked up. Alfred was kneeling in front of him, a sincere look in his eyes.
“Breath in, Master Bruce,” he instructed. “This has been a shock… and I know when your mind catches up, you will be looking into each and every one of your female partners for the last six years to ensure there was not a third bundle of joy safely tucked away. But for now, you must focus on the son in your arms, and on yourself. Gotham will still be there in the morning, with or without you, and in that time, you will have to change your life. But for now, focus on you and your son, and all the questions that surround him. First of all, do you want to keep him?”
Bruce breathed at that and looked down, staring at the hand that was trying to reach Alfred’s mustache. Filled with curiosity and confusion. Without him, Jason would have nowhere to go… but also if Bruce left him, who knew what would happen to him. His arms tightened around the infant at the thought.
“Yes.”
“Are you alright?”
He wasn’t in danger. There were no bombs, knives or fists being thrown at him right now. But he was in shock. And he was…hurt. DEEPLY hurt and enraged. Enraged that someone had kidnapped HIS child. That this child had been born and he was uninformed. That he was BORN IN A HOTEL of all places, and was just left there for who know what to find him. What if a pedophile had nabbed him instead of Catherine? Or a thief. Or a gang member. So much could have happened to Jason if the wrong person had found him and that was… terrifying. He was terrified.
“No. I’m not.”
“Will you be ready for the responsibility of being a single parent? Because he will need you, Master Wayne, if he is to stay.”
If… If was a word. He could have said no, he could have given him back to Catherine, handed her money and asked her to hide him. He could have called an adoption agency. He could have gone to Saint Mary’s Orphanage, if there was any chance of him leaving the baby with anyone else.
But he took this baby. He was holding him now. And he wasn’t going to put him down.
“There is no choice on that front. He has to stay.”
Bruce needed him to stay.
“Very well, Master Bruce.” Alfred nodded. “I know this will be… difficult for you. Change is a hard thing, and we both know that changing your schedule is especially challenging for you. But you are not alone, and no matter what you decide to do, I will be here for you, and I believe in your ability to be a father. He may have been unplanned… but I am sure you'll love him.”
“I’m… sure of that too,” Bruce said and breathed out. He watched Jason kick a little in his arms, fussing over the buttons on his onesie
“Maybe we should rename him.” Bruce said. “Maybe as the father, I can give him a new name.”
“Sir?” Alfred questioned.
Bruce looked up at the picture of his father and the baby before him. “Yes, I think I’ll call you Thomas.”
His infant froze entirely for a moment, and then Bruce jumped from the sudden absolute banshee like scream Jason emitted.
“I’m sorry, I take it back! You can be Jason! Jason! Please don’t cry!” Bruce pleaded, watching the baby whimper.
Alfred stared at him with a singular raised eyebrow.
“I do believe, sir, that he does not want his name changed.”
Bruce felt the pig smack him in the side of the head.
“…You might be right.”
~End~