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Bruce Wayne loved organizing galas. Every time they needed to raise money for a charity event, he didn’t hesitate to organize a beautiful gala in Wayne Manor.
He could forget about his cloak for a moment, letting the peace of Gotham under Cass and Duke’s responsibility, since they didn’t like much galas.
Of course, all his other children were invited, even Jason who was officially back in the family.
The latter was more discreet than anything, usually staying near an exit or a wall, but at least he was there.
Dick was very extroverted and talkative, thanking all the luxurious guests for their presence. Tim was talking to Bruce’s commercial allies, and Damian and Steph were picking food from the buffet.
It was a normal evening, where Bruce could be sure that at least some of his children were safe and sound. Alfred was there too, politely bringing champagne to the guests as Bruce was thanking them for their presence.
During a moment, Bruce was alone and wanted to look at his sons to make sure they were all fine. Jason looked a bit lost, his eyes were wide, and seemed confused. Bruce decided to join him where he was standing: “Hey, lad. Are you feeling okay?”
Jason took a deep breath in and had a small smile: “I’m fine, old man. Don’t worry for me.”
“Alright, but come to me if you’re not feeling good. You don’t have to stay there if you don’t feel good, okay?”
Jason nodded but didn’t look his father in the eyes. He didn’t look fine at all, but Bruce knew he will not say anything. It was just Jason’s mentality.
An hour later, Bruce was talking to a few important people, laughing politely and drinking expensive champagne when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Jason, looking at him with wide eyes. He looked paler than usual and he was slightly shaking.
“Jason? Are you alright?”
“Bruce I don’t… I don’t feel very good…”
Bruce excused himself in front of his guests and turned around to take a better look at his son. It’s at this exact moment that Jason’s legs gave out under his weight and he fell into his father’s arms.
“Jason? Jason, are you okay?” he repeated, worry in his voice.
His son didn’t answer, and Bruce noticed that his eyes were half-closed and it looked like he was barely conscious.
“Shit, Jason… Can you stand up? I need you to walk with me to a corner of the room.”
Jason nodded weakly but didn’t move and his father had to almost carry him to his feet and to support most of his weight as he was moving him near the big window. He put down his son on a seat, he just had the time to notice his eyes rolled back into his head and to quickly catch him as he was collapsing.
“Jason! Jason, can you hear me?”
The guests around his were coming closing, trying to see what was happening until Alfred —bless his soul— ordered them politely to stay back to give the younger room to breathe.
Bruce noticed someone next to him and Dick took his brother’s temperature with his hand before shaking his head.
“No fever,” he mumbled. “Did he told you something before passing out?”
“Just that he wasn’t feeling good. But he was already really pale an hour ago.”
“Maybe there are too many people are,” Tim suggested and Bruce hadn’t even realized his other son was there, “he could be feeling too hot?”
Bruce was so grateful for his detective family and he cradled his unconscious son in his arms before leaving the room with Dick and Tim, letting his butler and other children taking care of the guests.
“I think we should take to the yard so he can have some fresh air,” mumbled Dick and Bruce nodded.
“Tim, can you go in the laundry room and bring a few blankets and pillows so we can lay down your brother safely?”
Tim left quickly and Bruce kept his son in his arms as he was waiting for the younger to come back.
They settled the blankets on the wooden bench outside and laid down Jason on it. Summer in Gotham wasn’t particularly hot, but this evening was pleasantly warm and they stayed close to Jason, waiting for him to regain consciousness. Bruce tried to untangle Jason’s messy locks to calm himself as he was looking at his son’s face impatiently.
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have asked him to come to the gala knowing that he’s not comfortable when he surrounded by people…”
“He’s the one who agreed to come here, dad,” Tim reminded him. “It’s no one’s fault, just an accident.”
A dozen minutes later, Damian joined them, sitting calmly next to Jason’s head on the bench. “When will he wake up, Father?” he asked and Bruce shrugged.
They waited for more a few more minutes before they could hear a small groan coming from Jason.
“Jay? Lad, are you feeling good?”
Jason didn’t seem to be awake, he was just groaning and moaning, shaking as if he was having a nightmare.
“Jason? Jason, you’re okay, you need to wake up, son.”
“Can’t… Can’t breathe… It’s too… It’s too small, I can’t breathe… I can’t go out!”
“Jay! You’re safe, you’re not in your grave anymore!”
Jason didn’t seem to have heard him as he continued to struggle against the blankets until Damian suddenly lied next to him and held him against his small body.
“Come back. It’s over. You're safe. I’m here. Please come back.” Damian whispers into his ear, curled around Jason’s torso like an overgrown koala. Legs wrapped around his waist. Arms around Jason’s neck. Damian’s head pressed to Jason’s shoulder as he clings.
Strangely, it seemed to calm Jason’s down a bit, and Bruce could hear his son trying to match his breath with his little brother. Damian tighten his grip around the older one and shushed him slowly.
It was weird, seeing the youngest of the family holding their most dangerous sibling in his arms like he was a young child needing protecting and reassuring him softly.
“Alright,” Bruce finally mumbled, “Alfred asked the guests to leave so we should go home and get Jason a warm drink. Are you feeling better, lad?”
Jason seemed to think about the question for a second before nodding. Indeed, he had regained colors and he seemed to breathe normally. Damian didn’t let him go, though, and kept holding his arm while they were going back to the mansion.
They all sat on Bruce’s bed since it was the biggest one and Dick took Jason’s against his torso, ignoring Damian’s complaints.
Jason groaned, he wasn’t much a hugger, but he had to admit that after the panic he just had, it was good to feel reassured and held close.
“We won’t let anything happen to you, baby.” Mumbled absentmindedly Bruce as he was petting Jason’s hair.
The nickname was weird, but it felt nice, it wasn’t the first time Bruce was calling him like that. It was usually when Jason was hurt or in shock, to calm him down and to reassure him. Jason let his eyes close, melting into his brother’s embrace. He was still a bit too stressed to fall asleep, but he was happy to be held by his family even though he would probably never admit it.
Damian curled up against his other side, and Tim quickly joined their family hug.
“Yeah! Robin-cuddle-party!” Dick mumbled happily and Bruce couldn’t help but smile fondly at his sons.
Alfred joined the bedroom a few minutes later with a warm chamomile tea for Jason.
He kissed the boy’s forehead as he was handing the drink to Bruce, and hummed in approval at the cuddle pile: “Try not to suffocate him, boys.” He warned them. Making Jason have another panic attack because of cuddles would be too stupid.
Jason drank slowly his tea and finally closed his eyes and fell asleep, surrounded by his family.
“Now come on birdboy! You’re not sleeping on me already, are you?”
Punch, more punches.
“The party’s just got started!”
More pain, more punches.
“Then let’s boggey!”
Pain on his stomach, pain everywhere.
“That wasn’t a very nice thing to do to uncle Joker. You’ve been a bad boy. You must be punished!”
A crowbar, he had a crowbar with him.
“Prepare yourself for a severe spanking, young man.”
The crowbar was raised above his head and Jason could just close his eyes, paying for his death to be quick.
“But let me tell you from the start…”
Crack, the first hit, the first bone breaking.
“…this is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me.”
Pain, broken bones and why did Bruce left me here alone?
Screams, he could hear screams, or was he the one screaming?
“JASON! Jason, wake up!”
Jason gasped for air as he was struggling against whoever was holding him.
“Jason you’re safe. Please, you’re home, open your eyes.”
Jason was whining, pushing arms that were keeping him down.
“Jay! Lad, you’re okay! Open your eyes!” someone repeated and suddenly, Jason’s eyelids opened. He blinked against the lightning for a few seconds before noticing that his family was above him. Jason was held against the bed by Bruce’s strong arms. He could see the worry in his family’s eyes, Dick was keeping Damian close as the youngest seemed very shocked by the situation.
When Jason realized that he was really safe, that he didn’t have to fight, he suddenly burst into tears. He didn’t even know why, he hated to cry in front of people, and especially his family but it was as if everything he kept for himself for the last month at least was coming out now.
Bruce released his arms to take him against his torso, holding him close: “It’s okay, son. We all need to cry sometimes. Just breathe slowly, alright? Come on, match my breathing.”
Jason sobbed in his father’s chest for a dozen minutes. Dick was running his hand down his back to comfort him as much as he could and Tim was holding his hand tightly.
“Come on, baby. It was just a nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?”
Jason let out a muffled “no” from against Bruce’s chest, and the older didn’t insist.
They stayed like that until Jason went silent, exhausted by all the emotions that came out tonight.
Bruce kissed his son’s hair and let out a relieved sigh.
“We should go make strawberry milkshakes and then watch a movie together, sounds good?”
All of his children smiled at these words, even Jason and Bruce helped him to stand up and led him to the kitchen.
Alfred was already making crepes, and he smiled when he saw Bruce and his sons.
“We’re having a movie night, Alfred. We were thinking about making milkshakes and popcorns.”
The old butler noticed Jason’s red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks and nodded quickly.
“Of course, Master Bruce. I’ll take care of the popcorns with Master Damian and Master Tim. Master Dick and Master Jason can do the milkshake.”
When they were all sat on the living room’s big couch, Jason sandwiched between Bruce and Damian, Dick and Tim fighting for popcorns, Alfred asked Jason for the movie they should watch.
“Why are you asking me, Al? We all know that I’ll fall asleep at the beginning anyway.”
“True,” Dick agreed. “Let me choose, Alfred!”
Jason did fall asleep at the beginning of Star Wars, but he blamed his father’s hair pets and his brother’s body warmth for it. He woke up in Bruce’s bed, hugged by Tim and their father as if he would disappear at the moment they’ll let him go. Bruce was awake and looking at him fondly
“What do you want, old man?” he rasped and Bruce chuckled.
“I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right? We might fight a lot, but I love you so much, Jason. I… I can’t lose you again. Never again.”
Jason smiled a little at these words: “It means a lot to me, thank you.”
Bruce laid back on the bed, holding his son even closer as if he could share his love directly by contact.
“You should rest, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too, dad.”