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Batman was walking through the clinically white corridors on the Watchtower. He was on a mission. He needed to find Green Arrow and talk to the man urgently.
This was, of course, about Arsenal, or rather Roy Harper, Oliver Queen’s adopted son.
Roy Harper, the man that was dating his son, Jason Todd.
The whole situation was unacceptable. Pure and simple.
Roy Harper was trouble, always had been. He and Jason had been dating for quite a while, but Bruce himself had only found out about a week ago.
For some inexplicable reason, Jason hadn’t deemed it necessary to inform his father. Bruce couldn’t comprehend why. How Jason felt that there were certain things about his life that he couldn’t share with Bruce was beyond him.
Of course, it hadn’t fully come as a shock. Bruce had known that Jason and Roy Harper were close. Too close.
Last week, Alfred had felt in the mood to prepare a roast that coming Friday evening and deemed it the perfect occasion to bring the whole family together. It was only in the morning that same Friday that the butler had informed Bruce they would be having a few additional guests coming over. Dick had invited Barbara Gordon and Tim had requested to bring Stephanie Brown and Connor Kent with him.
And Jason had announced Roy Harper would be accompanying him.
Bruce would not and could not object. Alfred was the one responsible for inviting people over and overseeing who was allowed to attend dinner and who wasn’t. He couldn’t take those little pleasures away from the man who had practically raised him.
At the time, Bruce hadn’t even really minded the prospect of spending the evening in Arsenal’s presence.
Jason and Roy arrived together at the manor right on time. Roy had been cheery and friendly as he greeted Bruce and the others, an arm slung around Jason’s waist. Bruce hadn’t thought much of it in that moment.
The whole attendance had been gathered in the sitting room by Alfred, waiting for dinner to be ready and slurping on their glasses of champagne and apple juice and whatever else was on offer.
Bruce had overheard Roy asking Jason to show him the way to the restroom and they both had left the room afterwards.
That did seem strange to Bruce. Roy had visited the Manor quite a few times when he was younger and still went under the alias Speedy, so he should have known where to find the restroom by himself.
It was true though that he hadn’t been in Gotham for a long time, maybe he had simply forgotten. The house was big after all and people were known to get lost.
Then, Alfred had appeared in the doorway and announced that dinner was ready and served.
Jason and Roy were nowhere to be found.
Bruce had taken it upon himself to go looking for them. He had found them in the small hallway leading to the restroom, next to the main staircase, Jason pressed up against the wall, Roy all over him, his mouth on Jason’s.
Bruce had clenched his fists and just stared.
At least, Jason had had the decency to look ashamed. Maybe just uncomfortable that he had been caught.
Roy, on the other hand, had been smirking, looking Bruce straight in the eyes, his hands still possessively on Jason’s butt.
Bruce had considered retrieving Alfred’s old rifle and making good use of it.
He had gritted his teeth so hard he feared he might dislocate his jawbone, inhaled a deep breath and said: “Dinner is ready. We’re waiting for the both of you.”
Jason had still not dared to look his father in the eye. “Sorry, we’ll be there straight away.”
And then, Roy had had the audacity to lean into Jason to press a kiss on his cheek. “We will continue this later tonight, right Jaybird?” he had muttered against Jason’s skin.
And Bruce hadn’t missed the little smile Jason had given the archer in response.
A smile.
Unacceptable.
During dinner, it had taken all of Bruce’s willpower for the man not to hurl himself over the dressed dinner table and lunge towards the redhead to beat him into a pulp in front of everybody.
He should have known.
He should have known.
Dick was entirely to blame, that much was certain.
He had introduced Jason to that...that archer.
Bruce had ordered his eldest to his private study as the others had gathered once again in the sitting room for coffee, tea and digestifs.
Bruce had sat down behind his desk and intertwined his fingers, elbows resting on the polished wooden surface, his eyes boring accusingly into Dick’s. “Were you aware of Jason and Harper’s relationship?”, he had asked.
Dick had wandered around the room, looking around instead of looking at his father. Apart from Alfred, nobody was allowed into Bruce’s private study unless invited or summoned, depending on the situation, by the man himself. Batman couldn’t really block the access to the Batcave to Nightwing, but Dick Grayson and his other children had no business snooping around in Bruce Wayne’s office.
“Yeah”, the black-head had answered nonchalantly, “it’s not really a secret though. Jason has had a crush on Roy ever since his Titan days and Jason has always been Roy’s favourite bird, next to Black Canary, so it was only a matter of time.”
Bruce had been dismayed. How Dick could be so unbothered by his little brother’s engagement with an evil and cunning archer, one raised by Oliver Queen nonetheless, Bruce couldn’t understand. It had made him angry that the vigilante had apparently done nothing to prevent this from happening.
“You should have intervened a long time ago, especially since you knew of their mutual attraction. It was highly irresponsible of you to allow Harper to hook his clutches into Jason, you should have protected your fellow Robin.”
Dick had finally turned towards Bruce and eyed him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know what you think you know about Roy, but I’ve known him for years and I can tell you he’s a good and honest man. He and Jason are doing great together and Jason loves him.”
Bruce had had to suppress a sarcastic laugh at that. “Jason is a child, he doesn’t know anything about love. That’s why we have to protect him from the likes of Roy Harper.”
Dick had gaped incredulously at his father. “You deem an eleven year old mature enough to go out at night fighting the bad guys but a twenty year old is too young to know anything about love? You are weird sometimes B. Since when have you become so invested in our Prom Queen’s love life anyways? You didn’t seem to care when he had something going on with Slade Wilson.”
Bruce had stood up abruptly, his chair falling backwards and aiming an accusing finger at Dick. “At the time I wasn’t even aware Jason was alive! Had I known I would have done something to stop it!” Bruce had elevated his voice.
Those had been cruel words spoken by Dick Grayson. They had left Bruce with no other choice but to lock himself inside his study for the rest of the night and brood.
Bruce did not appreciate being reminded of Jason’s past relationship with the mercenary. The man had been hired by Talia to train Jason back when he had still been with the League. Needless to say, Slade seemed to have a very loose definition of what “training” exactly entailed.
Bruce had to remind himself that all of that was in the past.
The murders he had plotted that night were fantasies to indulge in, nothing more.
__________________________________________
Batman was happy to have finally found who he was looking for. He laid a gloved hand on Oliver Queen’s shoulder. “Green Arrow?”
The man turned around, surprised. “Batman”, he stated.
“I would like to talk to you”, Bruce started once the blond archer had fully turned around, “we should go somewhere more private. One of the conference rooms.”
“Alright Batman, lead the way.” Oliver held out his hand towards the corridor, inviting Bruce to do just so.
Bruce led them to one of the smaller conference rooms. He allowed Green Arrow to enter the room first before following behind and closing the door behind them.
Both men took a seat opposite each other on the small conference table in the center of the room.
Green Arrow took his hat off and placed it beside him on the table. He ruffled a hand through his hair as he asked: “So, what is this all about.”
Batman placed both his hands flat on the table. “I don’t know if you are aware but...Arsenal and Red Hood, they are dating.”
Oliver sat back in his chair and exhaled loudly. “I wasn’t sure but I was suspecting it. Arsenal had been talking about that kid way too much lately.”
“So I take it you don’t approve either?” At least Oliver Queen is pragmatic. He too realizes that his son isn’t good for Jason.
“No I don’t. Good to know we’re on the same page on this. To be honest, I’m actually quite worried for Roy, this is Cheshire all over again.”
Batman blinked, stunned. “What?”
Had Oliver Queen just compared his son to one of Ra’s Al Ghul’s henchwomen?
“Yeah, well, seems to be Arsenal’s type, the black-haired assassin. That boy could never resist a pretty face, especially if it’s got blood on it’s hands. He certainly didn’t get that from me.” Green Arrow leaned forward in his chair again.
Bruce couldn’t believe his ears.
“You don’t seem to understand Green Arrow, the one we should be worried about is the Red Hood, not Arsenal.”
Both of Oliver’s eyebrows shot in the air in obvious surprise. “And why is that? Your kid is the League Assassin, not mine.”
Bruce balled his hands into fists. “The Red Hood is not a League Assassin. Stop saying that!”
Sure, Jason had his not so glorious past, but he had overcome it, and Bruce was so proud of him for that. He hadn’t killed or even unnecessarily seriously injured anyone in almost two years. That was progress. Roy Harper was the one bringing all of that into jeopardy, Bruce was sure of it.
“Why should I? As far as I know he’s a member of the League, just as Cheshire. Killed quite a few people as well. I’m still convinced all of this is a plot by Ra’s to get to me personally, through Roy.”
“Not anymore! And why in the world would Ra’s go after you personally?”
Oliver shrug his shoulders. “He’s probably still mad that Black Canary chose me over him. Your...your Red Hood is probably an agent formed by the League to seduce and compromise Arsenal to use him against me.”
Bruce frowned, the lenses on his cowl visibly narrowing. “Nonsense. Ja- Red Hood is still an innocent child. It’s Arsenal that’s taking advantage of him.” Bruce folded his arms in front of his chest.
Oliver threw his head back as he barked out a laughter. “Jason, an innocent child? Are you bonkers? Have you seen how he dresses? Have you seen him move? Nothing innocent about that!”
At this point, both men didn’t bother with the aliases anymore. If someone was listening in on them, they wouldn’t be able to make any sense of the argument anyways.
Bruce slammed both of his fists against the table top. He was fuming. “I do not allow you to talk like this about my son! Roy has been after him ever since he was Robin, I know it!”
“So? Who would blame him? You were the one who thought it was a good idea to put your pretty little boys in green panties! I mean, seriously, who does that? What did you expect? And Roy never would have done anything without your Robin’s consent!”
“That’s enough! Roy is corrupting Jason! I won’t tolerate it! Tell your son to keep himself in check!”
“This is ridiculous! What are you afraid of, Roy getting your bird pregnant? If that happens I’ll be on the lookout for three wise men from the East! Although, now that I think of it, your I-crawled-out-of-my-own-grave son would probably be capable of that!”
Just as Bruce had decided that it was about time to teach that pompous Robin Hood knockoff a lesson and prepared himself for Oliver’s face to meet his fists, the door opened and Superman floated into the room, positioning himself between his colleagues.
“Gentlemen, I think both of you need to calm down”, he said, placing a reassuring hand on Batman’s shoulder.
No doubt he had heard the whole discussion with the help of his super-hearing, that big blue gossip.
Batman clenched his fists tighter, the leather of his gloves squeaking under the strain, his teeth bared. “Why should I calm down when he’s trying to imply my son is some kind of traitorous whore!”
“Those are your words, not mine”, Oliver countered, “but you’ve gotta admit, Jason has a reputation, you should listen to what Deathstroke has to say about him.”
At the mention of that name, Bruce saw red.
In hindsight, he could admit that he wasn’t proud of his outburst and was glad that Clark had been there to put a quick stop to it. It had resulted in a broken nose for Oliver and a bruised, black eye for Bruce.
But he didn’t feel bad for Oliver’s broken nose either.
That green thighs wearing bastard had-
Bruce took a deep calming breath to collect himself.
In comparison to Oliver, Roy wasn’t so bad after all. It wasn’t the young man’s fault that he had been raised by a complete idiot.
______________________________________
It was only a few days later that Bruce had yet again visitors at the Manor. Jason, Roy Harper and Oliver Queen. He really had to have a discussion with Alfred about who was allowed into the Manor and who wasn’t. Maybe he should just instate a rule that blondes and redheads in general are not allowed on the property?
Who was he kidding, Alfred ran this house, he couldn’t dictate anything to the older man. He couldn’t even get Tim to stop leaving his empty coffee mugs on the desk or the conference table in the Cave.
Everybody was sat in the sitting room once again, silent, except for the clatter of the china as Alfred was filling the delicate cups with coffee and Earl Grey. Bruce leveled a glare at Oliver, feeling somewhat satisfied at seeing the deep blue bruise that had formed underneath the other man’s eyes and around his nose. He refrained from showcasing a satisfied smile.
Oliver Queen sat opposite of him in a reading chair and Jason and Roy were huddled together on the couch perpendicular to them, clutching their hands like an old married couple.
Bruce sighed. Why couldn’t Jason just change partners every other week like Dick used to do, when he would claim to have finally found the love of his life every second Tuesday of the month (“No really, this time it really is the one!”).
Jason was the one to finally break the tense silence by clearing his throat. “So”, he started, “Roy and I heard about the altercation between you and Oliver, Bruce, and while I do appreciate you standing up for me in front of that idiot!”, at that, Jason leveled his own disapproving glare at Oliver, Bruce noted with glee.
Oliver held both his hands up in a placating manner as he interrupted, “Hey, I apologized already, okay? That guy broke my damn nose!”
“Anyways”, Jason continued, turning his attention back towards his father, “You owe Roy an apology. Roy is good to me and for me, so there’s no need to worry, alright B? I...I love him, and he’s no bad influence. Besides, I’m pretty rotten already as it is. Roy’s the one keeping me out of trouble. He makes me see the nice things in life. He turned me into a pathetic and mushy sentimental mess and I ain’t even mad about it.” At that, his son turned towards the redhead with a fond smile.
Roy folded his arms behind himself to rest his head on his hands. “He’s right, despite my dashingly handsome bad boy looks, I’ve left those days behind me. Don’t you worry Mr. Wayne, I’ll take good care of Jason. I love him.”
And there was so much love in the way Roy looked at Jason that Bruce had no other choice but to believe the younger man.
Compared to Slade Wilson, Roy Harper was undoubtedly a much better choice. But no, Bruce wasn’t going there, he wasn’t going to think about that treacherous, eye-patch wearing bandit, not at all.
“Alright then”, Bruce finally spoke up, “Maybe I had the wrong opinion of you and let prejudices get the best of me. I’m going to trust you, Roy, my sincerest apologies. Why don’t you all stay for dinner tonight?”
“That’s a splendid idea Master Bruce!”, Alfred reacted enthusiastically as he finished distributing the cups to their guests. The old Butler really loved having guests over at the Manor. Probably a welcome distraction to having to stitch Batman’s wounds shut after patrol every other day in the early morning hours.
Roy grinned dangerously as he placed a hand on Jason’s knee, his eyes slightly hooded. “Maybe we could stay for the night as well?”, he inquired, “I’ve always wanted to fuck Jaybird in his childhood bed”.
“My dear”, Alfred muttered as he stared up at the ceiling. Oliver started laughing, snorting coffee out of his nostrils, his cup nearly slipping off the saucer he held in his hand.
Bruce gripped the armrest of his reading chair painfully tight, breathing heavily through his nose. “Alfred, please be nice and go fetch me your old rifle, will you?”