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Jason was quickly learning that the jitters and worry attached to the idea that Bruce would suddenly change his mind and boot him out of Damian’s life would never go away. Still, he tried to shove those worries to the side as he rang the manor’s doorbell.
Much to his surprise, it was Bruce–not Alfred–that answered the door. “Jason,” his adoptive father greeted somewhat coolly.
“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m here to pick up Damian?”
A tiny smile forming on Bruce’s face helped soothe some of the tension between them. “He mentioned. The art museum?”
“Don’t act like you remembered that, Father,” Damian’s voice came from behind his biological father. His green eyes met Jason’s as he stepped around Bruce. “Alfred reminded him three minutes ago.”
Jason had to repress a snicker.
“Come on, Baba. We’re going to be late.”
It was only once they were in the car that Jason finally relaxed. “You got your stuff?”
As far as Bruce was concerned, the two of them were visiting Gotham’s art museum. In reality, they were headed to a warehouse next to the bay that Jason owned as Red Hood so he could teach his son how to shoot properly.
“You’re lucky he didn’t question why I was taking my backpack, but yes. Gloves and a change of clothes just like you said.”
Jason ruffled his son’s hair. “Way to go, kiddo.”
“What did Mama say to this plan of yours?”
“What do you think she said?” Jason laughed. “She wants you to be able to protect yourself just as much as I do; she was just sad she had to be out of town.”
Damian was quiet for a moment. “That sounds like her.”
“You okay, Dami?” The kid wasn’t normally this quiet or fragmented when he was talking with Jason or Y/N.
Again, he hesitated. “Father will not be pleased if he figures out what we’re doing.”
Oh, hell. “Listen to me, Damian. Bruce’s issues with guns are on him. Not you. You should be able to protect yourself if it comes to you having to use a gun, and I’m going to make sure you can. Do you have to be like me and use them regularly? No. But it’s a useful skill to have.”
“I know …”
Jason sighed. “Do you want to know a secret?” When he glanced over at the passenger seat, he was amused to note those green eyes were alight with curiosity. “Alfred used to take me shooting when I was little, too.”
Damian’s brows furrowed. “Really?”
“He didn’t just teach me how to cook, kiddo,” Jason smirked. “Occasionally while Bruce was out–before I started going out as Robin–I’d get anxious being in the house, so he’d take me out on the grounds so we could go skeet shooting. It wasn’t anything serious, but it prepared me to be around guns before I even knew that was a skill I should have.”
“And Father wasn’t angry when he found out.”
“Bold of you to assume that Alfred ever let it slip.”
That brought a tiny smile to Damian’s face. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I understand, Baba.” His chest puffed up a little. “I bet I can out shoot you by the end of the day.”
“You’re on.”