Chapter Text
Jason had been estranged from the family for quite some time, at most coordinating with them for city wide emergencies, but for anything less than that he was considered a potential threat. All the bats weren’t really happy with it, but they didn’t see a way to include him in the family, with his deep seated rage at what he saw as their many betrayals, while the bats simply couldn’t reconcile his… alternative methods with a member of the family. They loved him and liked him and missed him, but there were just too many obstacles. And Jason missed them too, and he was so lonely some days, but it was obvious that they didn’t miss him, as they had slapped him with the label of villain and wrote him off, as though the world was nothing but black and white and he was the black sheep.
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Dick found it so hard to see his little brother, once so happy and carefree, once the carrier of his legacy, his first sibling, become so misguided, so full of hate, so full of rage, led so far astray by the despicable Al Ghuls, corrupted and tainted, until the robin who was magic became a curse on Gotham.
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If Jason heard even a word of Dick’s thoughts, Dick wouldn’t be able to leave without at least one broken bone. He was still happy, still full of love and kindness, and motivated all his actions on compassion. He was magic, now the magic of relief, of safety, he was the mystical blessing of knowing that you were truly safe. Talia was the first parent who hadn’t added to his trauma, minus that one horrible night, where due to a series of miscommunications, she mistakenly thought he was attracted to her, and she had to “let him down easy,” which was the most disgusting talk of his entire life. If Jason knew even an inkling of what Dick thought of Talia, he would put Dick in a wheelchair.
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Bruce felt his loss with each day, forever yearning for his lost son. He missed him always, and just wanted him back. He missed the days they had together in the manor, once Jason had begun to open up. Those days were full of laughter and joy, but now there was nothing in Jason’s heart for him but hate. All he had of his son was a glass case with the last thing he ever wore. Bruce would forever love Jason with all of his heart, but it was obvious that Jason didn’t feel the same way.
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Jason loved his father. He still did, although he was so angry he would never admit it nowadays. Because it was obvious he was not loved. When he first came back, he was so angry, and so, so, so hurt. Because he thought he was loved. But shouldn’t the death of someone who was loved have changed something? He had clawed his way out of his grave, something he would probably never recover from by the way, only to find that everything was exactly the same. A new robin. A new son. A better son. A better brother. Putting away his murderer. All so that damn clown could escape and do it all again.
And then during an emergency he had seen it in the cave. A horrible tomb, showing the memory of a 15 year old who was gone forever. So Jason knew he was once loved. Key word being once. Because there he was. He wasn’t gone forever. But he was to them. To Bruce, he wasn’t his real son, because if he truly was a member of the family to them, they wouldn’t be mourning him while he stood right there. He had left them right then and there, and hadn’t been back to the cave since.
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Barbara was selfish. She knew it. She wanted to get past it, but trauma didn’t work with what you wanted. She should contact Jason. They used to be so close, talking about books for hours, her tutoring him in the few subjects he had a struggle with, and even then, it was Jason who even said it was a problem, anyone else would have been delighted to be at his skill level. But. But she didn’t think she could do it. She couldn’t look at him and see pity. She didn’t care about his night time activities, she thought about putting a bullet in the pasty-faced bastard too much to judge. But the thought of that bright eyed kid, once looking at her with love, looking at her like the coolest person in the room, even when Batman was there, all because she was a librarian. If those same eyes looked at her with pity, with remorse, with sorrow, at poor pitiful Barbara Gordon, instead of Barbie, the only person she had ever allowed to call her that, it may very well break her. So she stayed away.
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Jason was selfish. He should contact Barbara. He knew that. They used to be so close. He respected the hell out of Barbie, for kicking ass, for looking at a life-altering change and not only pushing past it, but pushing over it, becoming the all-knowing Oracle of Gotham. But if Barbie, his once beloved friend, maybe even sister, looked at him with hate and revulsion. It may very well break him. The thought of someone he had once looked up to for going into such an awesome field, and for walking him through what he missed while homeless, now looking down at him as no more than a murderous thug. He just couldn’t take it. So he stayed away.
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Tim was only marginally sad, if he was being honest. He played it up a bit for Bruce and Dick, not wanting them to think he was unaffected by Jason’s radical shift, but honestly, he kind of… didn’t care. Growing up, Jason had been his hero, who he worshiped. When he learned of what his hero was doing, slaughtering his way through Gotham, his soul was crushed. On that fateful day when he was up late, getting coffee, and he saw that metallic red shine in the corner, he lost the last bit of hope he had left as he waited for his hero to finish his villainous monologue and beat him to death.
However at the thirty minute mark, his sleep-addled brain finally let him know that this was not a villainous monologue of how Robin would never be seen again, but was instead an overbearing lecture about how “he was really young and he should at least sit out the more dangerous rouge fights and are you really drinking that much coffee at 3 A.M. shouldn’t you be wrapping up at least tell me that’s decaf.” Tim was filled with joy and hope once more at realizing that his Robin was still a hero.
He was also annoyed that he was being mother-henned, and he had seen too many bad timelines with himself to know that killing wasn’t the path to follow, and that non lethality was key.
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Jason was absolutely incandescent with rage when he learned there was a new Robin. He wanted to go on a warpath. He wanted to rip him to shreds. He wanted to tear him apart. He wanted to kill him. He was going to kill him. He was going to make sure this pretender, this replacement, never saw his fourteenth birthday. Wait, fourteenth? He felt the rage completely vanish at the horrifying realization that the kid was basically a baby. Jesus, he couldn’t be much older than that little kid that used to stalk him with a camera.
Aaaaaand he was back to pissed.
What was Bruce Thinking? The kid didn’t stand a fucking chance, of course he saw the shiny cape and got stars in his eyes, ignoring the myth of Icarus as he flew higher and higher. Why didn’t Bruce, the Adult, do something about it? He just wanted another meat shield, the goth asshole. Well if Bruce is going to be incompetent, once Jason was revealed during his grand plan, he would try and bring the kid to reason.
After his talk with Tim in the tower, he was just frustrated with the little shit’s obstinacy. They would never get along due to their differences in method, and Tim’s general stubbornness and lack of self care versus Jason’s own bullheadedness and overbearing traits
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Stephanie was split. On the one hand, she really did think that it was okay sometimes. But Jason just killed so much. She supported it for like, self defense, or just the big ones, like Black Mask. But Jason killed so many that she thought should be put away, not put down. He seemed nice enough, down right hilarious, but putting heads in a duffel bag to send a message was a little…much.
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Jason liked Stephanie well enough. She seemed funny, witty, and sassy. He could definitely get behind having shitty dads, hers a villain, his a goon. But on his bad days, the really, really bad days, he couldn’t even look at her. Or anything purple or green or white really. But on any other day he could see himself hanging out with her. Just. not in capes.
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Cassandra had only seen Jason a few times prior to running into each other in Gotham. She wished he could be like her, and put away the league of assassin’s methods. Every time she saw him, he radiated pain and fury and love and so much. She did not know if she liked seeing him.
The rest of her family were like low candles, so hard to see, but the small flickers and jumps of their bodies like a flame told her exactly how the winds of their emotions were leading them. He was a blazing inferno. Back when she saw him from a distance in the league, she thought that such an open person could never excel there. She had been so shocked to learn that such an open book, someone who wore every emotion on their sleeve, someone so honest, had come from this family.
She enjoyed seeing such an open book. It was refreshing, not having to look for subtle tells, but instead just see it laid out so bare. But on the other hand, there was so much. She could see everything, but there was so much of everything, it was hard to pick out anything, much less the right thing.
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Jason felt off-kilter around Cass. He always wondered how they both spent so much time at the league of assassins, yet never saw each other. Like at all. That aside, he hated being read. It was bad enough when, even through a full helmet, the normal bats could read him like a book. But Black Bat was like a goddamn mind reader, regarding him with that head tilt they all had (even Jason no matter how hard he tried to shake it,) then just. Knowing what he was thinking. He hated it.
He refused to have any association with her, and stayed as far away as possible, not even helping her in any way, shape, or form. (Jason hoped it was only him who realized that Red Hood had no experience with sign language until after their first meeting. If he could, he would take that little detail to his second grave. [Cass noticed his new skill, the reason why, and his embarrassment, so it’s a secret between him and, little did he know, her.])
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Duke was still finding his groove with his new family, and so hadn’t really devoted much time to Jason. He disagreed with his methods, but thought some of the stuff he did was so absolutely wild that he couldn’t help but respect it.
Not to mention that something about him just glowed so intensely it hurt the eyes. He was intrigued, but kept his distance, not wanting to get too involved with a rogue.
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Jason was stuck on the newest addition to the family. On the one hand, he was definitely a loser like the rest of them, staunchly against doing what needed to be done. On the other hand, he did some truly impressive feats, and Jason had to give him some credit. Not to mention the magic in him hummed in appreciation at the meta, like recognizing like.
He still hadn’t told the bats about his magic, but fuck them, they didn’t deserve to know. He was interested in getting to know the kid more, but he didn’t feel like getting involved with the goody-two-shoes, so he kept his distance.
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Damian and Jason had a very tense relationship. They didn’t speak about the other, but any time they met in the field they were at each other’s throats. The family’s theory was that Damian was jealous that Jason got any attention at all from Talia, while Jason hated Damian due to his grandfather. Dick held the additional theory that Jason on some level saw how horrible Talia treated him, and was taking it out on Damian. But Damian refused to speak on Jason, merely scowling and clamming up, and Jason was still considered a rogue, so it’s not like they could ask him.
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Alfred refused to speak on the matter of Master Jason. They only made the mistake of trying to ask him once, and he gave them such a look that they all immediately backed off. Alfred’s true feelings were easy to explain.
You see it was quite simple…