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Jason looked up from where he was scanning news reports on his laptop. A shadow had crossed the window but it was gone again before he saw anything. It was late afternoon and in a rare showing of good weather, there were no clouds over Gotham today. Damian was sitting on the couch reading with Titus's sprawled along his legs. He didn't seem to notice anything even when the shadow flickered by the window again.
“The fuck?” Jason muttered. A drone would have set off his perimeter alarms. Whatever it was, it didn't have an electrical signature.
“What is it?” Damian asked, sounding mildly annoyed.
“Nothing. Probably just a bird.”
When Damian's expression darkened, Jason sighed wearily.
“A bird, as in a small creature with feathers that flies.” Not a boundary-ignoring family member. He really didn't want to have to throw anybody off the roof today.
Damian clicked his tongue and went back to reading. He was sitting on the couch with his foot propped up on a pillow. His sprained ankle was healing well and surprisingly, he was keeping off of it. Jason had expected a fight to keep him from overextending himself, especially when he left to go out on patrol the last couple nights. But the prickly little demon seemed content to read and draw with the art supplies Dick had brought over in Damian's bag.
The shadow passed over a window on the other side of the room and Jason automatically pulled out his gun. Not many things lurked in the daylight hours in Gotham, but it was never too early for some lame-ass baddie to switch things up. Damian had pulled the knife Jason had given him and held it by his hip as he set the book aside silently. Titus got down from the couch, his ears swiveling as he looked around, his nails clicking on the worn wood floor.
Jason accessed the cameras around the building to see what was out there, but all of them were clear. There was nobody in sight. They both jumped when the doorbell rang. The sound was interrupted by a low buzz as the lights flickered. There was a yell from the hallway that ended with a light thump and the dog bounded to the door, though he didn't bark. It must not be a threat, but Jason wasn't sure who it could be.
“Dammit,” he huffed. The rest of the building was empty, so he didn't have to worry about neighbors. The family knew better than to come without calling ahead and they'd most likely use the windows instead of the door. He had no idea who was trying to get in. Damian seemed less concerned as he set the knife down on the coffee table and headed to the door before Jason could get there.
“Wait-” Jason began just as Damian threw the door open and clicked his tongue again.
“What are you doing?” Damian demanded of the would-be intruder as Titus wiggled past him into the hall.
There was an unintelligible mumble from the hallway and when Jason got close enough, he saw a heap of red and blue laying on the threadbare carpet. Shit. Jon blinked up at them owlishly where he lay in heap on the floor as he tried to fend off the dog at it tried to lick his face.
“Whazzat?” he mumbled.
“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Jason holstered the gun and dodged around Damian to kneel down so he could move the dog aside and check him over. The last thing he needed was to have an angry Superman knocking on his door because Jason had zapped his damned kid.
“You okay? What the hell are you doing here?”
Jon shook his head and sat up, seemingly unaffected by the voltage that had just flowed through him. “Mr. Pennyworth told me Damian was here,” he said as he leaned sideways to hug the dog and peer around Jason. He waved with a foolish grin on his face. “Hey, Dami. How's the foot?”
“It's my ankle and it's fine.” Damian sighed and headed back towards the couch. “You can go home now.” He paused and looked over his shoulder as he snapped his fingers for Titus to follow him. “Before they realize you're missing.”
“Pot and kettle, kid,” Jason muttered. The whole reason he was slumming at Jason's apartment was because he'd snuck out to patrol when he was grounded with an injury. He'd gone out and gotten hurt worse because of it. Jason had brought him home to patch him up and now they were. . . hanging out. Sort of.
“I think your doorbell is broken, Mr. Todd,” Jon said as he stood and dusted himself off. He was wearing torn jeans, red sneakers, and his super costume. He smoothed the blue shirt and settled his cape on his shoulders.
“Just call me Jason, Kid.” Mr. Todd had been his dad and the less said about him, the better. “Get in here.” Jason tugged Jon inside and closed the door. “Did you honestly do a flyby of my place in broad daylight?” he asked as he reset the security on the door.
“Uhhh.” Jon dug the toe of his shoe into the floor nervously. “Maybe,” he said sheepishly. “I was just jumping to look inside because I didn't know which window was yours.”
“Did anyone see you?” Jason stood and steered him towards the couch before prodding him down onto the cushions. Titus hopped up beside him and promptly flopped into his lap. Jon giggled and scratched behind his ears. The dog could switch from dignified purebred to slobbering, attention loving mutt on a whim.
“I don't think so,” Jon said as he looked around. “But it's not usually so bright here.”
And wasn't that the truth. It figured. It was the brightest day they'd had in weeks so of course, that's when Super-Brat decided to come knocking. Jason sighed and headed into the kitchen to grab his phone. He needed to make some calls.
“You sure you're okay?” Jason asked as he dialed the manor. If the kid had been fully human, he'd be unconscious right now. The trap was designed to stop a full grown man.
Jon puffed out his chest in an annoyingly adorable impression of his dad. “A little electric shock can't stop me.”
“From breaking in?” Damian asked causally as he deliberately flipped a page in the book and gestured toward the dog. Titus stayed in Jon's lap, basking in the attention. Damian's nose twitched in annoyance but he said nothing.
“I rang the doorbell,” Jon protested as he slumped back into the cushions. “You missed check in.” He shrugged his small shoulders, trying to look casual but the tension in his muscles betrayed him. “You were supposed to call me, remember.”
Damian frowned. “I don't need to be monitored,” he muttered.
“But you're my friend. It was my fault you twisted your ankle in the first place and you said you'd keep in touch if you went out again.”
Damian closed his eyes and let out a quiet breath. “I will endeavor to maintain radio contact in the future,” he conceded.
Jason's brows went up as he headed into the bedroom when Alfred picked up the phone. He must have gotten back from England already. It was rare for Damian to give in to anyone. It seemed that Jason had underestimated the bond between the two of them. He knew he and Jon were close, but it was different seeing it in person. What the hell was he going to do with them?
“Master Jason,” Alfred said, his tone cordial as usual. “So nice to hear from you.”
“What were you thinking, sending him over here?” Jason demanded, forgetting himself for a moment. “The security on my front door could have. . . well it wouldn't have killed him, but. . .” He trailed off in a huff. “I don't know what to do with kids.” Jason's adrenaline was still humming and without any actual danger, it was filtering into his anxiety instead.
“From all reports, you've been handling Master Damian rather remarkably.”
“It's different with him. He's not. . . I mean, he is a kid. Technically.” He'd actually been acting his age that first night, but he'd settled into his more reserved nature after that. Jon was a whole different story. He'd been born to loving parents and he'd been able to actually be a child. Jason had no idea how to handle that.
“I'm sure you'll manage, my boy,” Alfred said, his tone warm. “Would you like me to prepare something for lunch? I can be there within the hour.”
“No thanks, Al. I got it.” He could handle food at least. But what did you do with a super powered ten-year-old and a assassin trained pre-teen that acted four times his age?
“Should you need anything, I am here,” Alfred offered.
Jason sighed and thanked him before hanging up. That was the easy call. He wasn't sure what he was going to say for the second one. But before he could think of what to say, there was a tap on his bedroom window. There was no fire escape on that side of the building. Pulling up the shade, he saw Superman hovering outside his window. Apparently, he didn't need to call.
“I have a favor to ask,” Clark said as he came inside and touched down on the floor.
“Uh. . .” Of all the things Jason had expected to hear, that wasn't on the list. “Whatcha' need?” He tried to be casual and felt like he was failing miserably. It was difficult to stand in front of a pillar of goodness and not feel inadequate in comparison. He had a sinking feeling when he saw the small backpack the other man was holding.
Superman gave him a sheepish look. “Lois is out of the country and I just got a call from the League.”
“I thought Bruce was out dealing with League stuff. Why aren't you with him?” Jason wasn't worried. It was Batman. He was fine.
“They didn't need me at the time, but that just changed.” He held out the bag. “I brought some of Jon's things. Sorry to impose but-”
“You want the kid to stay here? With me?” Jason blinked at him. “My place is full of weapons. Loaded weapons. And it's a shitty neighborhood.” It wasn't really that bad, relatively speaking. But still. “This is practically an abandoned building.”
Clark raised a brow. “Not abandoned. Just mostly empty because you own it and you're the only resident. Do you have anything here that can actually hurt him?”
“No,” Jason said immediately. “I don't.”
Clark's expression turned warm. “I know he'll be safe here. And Damian is his best friend. He doesn't get to see him often enough.”
“I'm hardly a good role model.”
“On the contrary,” Clark said seriously. “You're an example of how someone can overcome their past and move forward.”
“Alfred and Dick are at the manor. They're far better equipped for this.”
“Which is why you undoubtedly have them both on speed dial,” Clark said with a laugh before he trailed off at Jason's stricken expression. “If this is too much. . .”
“No. It's fine.” Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wasn't big on spilling his feelings and god knows, he'd been avoiding Dick's brotherly bonding sessions like the plague. But Clark somehow made him want to tell the truth. “It's . . . kinda scary. Being responsible.” Give him a fight in costume and he'd have no trouble dealing with Bat-Brat and his Super-Buddy. But sitting around with no enemy to fight? That made him fidget.
“Kids are terrifying,” Clark confirmed after a moment.
“What?” Jason had a hard time believing that Superman was afraid of anything.
“When Jon was first born, I was terrified that I'd drop him or crush him if I wasn't careful enough. These days, I'm just scared that I won't be enough.”
Jason stared at him. “How could you. . .” He shook his head, trying to disperse thoughts of the icon standing before him and tried to look at him as the man beneath the cape instead. “That's. . . not what I expected you to say.”
“He's a good kid,” Clark told him.
“That's not what I'm worried about.”
Clark's expression turned warm again. “You're a good kid too,” he said quietly.
“Alright, alright. Don't get all mushy on me.” This was the part that was too much. An uncomfortable weight settled in Jason's stomach. Clark was just being nice. He was one of the good guys. That's what they did. “It's fine,” Jason said as he ran his hand restlessly through his hair before he could stop himself. “He can stay. But only 'till Friday when I send Mini-Bruce back to the cave.”
“Thank you.” Clark sounded genuinely grateful which just made Jason more uncomfortable. “Green Lantern is on call at the Watchtower. Just in case,” he added.
“Uncle Hal doesn't need to be on call,” Jon said from the other room. He sounded suspiciously close to the bedroom door. When Clark hovered over and opened it, both boys tumbled inside.
“What have I said about eavesdropping?” Clark asked, his tone stern.
Jon had the grace to blush where he lay on his back staring up at his father. Titus flopped down on top of him, happy to have him in his territory at floor level. Damian looked bored. Puling out the book, he started to read like the doorway had always been his favorite spot.
“Why do you have to leave?” Jon asked as he wrapped his arms around Titus' neck.
“The League needs me.” Clark settled down on the floor and reached out to scratch between the dog's ears.
“Is Mom still out of town?” Jon asked.
“She'll be back in a couple of days. You can stay with Jason until then.”
Jon grinned at Damian. “Told you we were having a sleepover.”
Damian narrowed his eyes but didn't look away from his book. “Todd is hardly an experienced caretaker.”
“He's been looking after you for the last two days,” Jon pointed out.
Damian shot him a prim look. “I do not require supervision,” he said haughtily. “His presence is merely a convenience.”
“Zip it, Short Stack,” Jason told him. When Damian opened his mouth to be snotty again, Jason cut him off. “I'll convenience you right back to the manor if you keep it up.” Turning to Jon, he softened his expression.
“Whaddya say, Kiddo. You wanna hang out for a couple of days?”
“If it's okay with you,” Jon said, suddenly sounding hesitant. He hadn't spent much time around Jason and the only things he knew where whatever Damian had told him and his info would have been highly edited. And probably not in a good way.
“It totally okay. I was about to make cookies.”
Jon perked up. “What kind?”
“Whatever kind I have the stuff for.” Jason ran through the list of his current pantry ingredients in his head. He'd picked up a handful of things the other night after Damian had showed up and baking was soothing when he couldn't sleep.
Jon casually bench pressed the dog and set him aside so he could get up to hug his father. He whispered in his ear. “Can I have cookies?”
“Only if you save me some,” Clark said with a smile.
Jon bounced on his toes. It was a good thing he could control himself enough not knock a hole in the floor. Jason idly wondered how many impromptu home improvement projects Lois and Clark had to tackle when his strength started coming in.
Clark gave Jason a wry smile as he stood. “Lois will be back on Friday.”
“She can pick him up at the manor.” Jason wasn't worried about Lois making her way to his place on the edge of Crime Alley. She could take care of herself. But he was uncomfortable with the idea of having her here.
“I'll let her know.” Clark ruffled Jon's hair.
“When are you coming back?” Jon asked.
“In a few days, hopefully. Be good.”
Damian snorted. “That's hardly a stretch,” he said.
“Good to see you too, Damian,” Clark said. “Your dad should be home soon.”
“It doesn't matter. I don't require his presence.” Damian's lips thinned. “He'll just leave again anyway,” he muttered.
Bruce had been gone more often than not lately which was why Dick had been staying at the manor for the last couple months. Jason was relieved. It gave him a feeling of freedom, like he didn't have to worry about the Bat breathing down his neck and judging him. He thought that Damian would feel the same, but going by the sullen expression on his face, he apparently didn't like that his father had been gone so long. Odd
“I'm sure he'll stick around when he comes back this time,” Clark told him before hugging Jon one more time and nodding at Jason before leaving through the window where he'd entered.
Jason closed the window and drew the shade again. He took a steadying breath before turning around. “Alright. You like peanut butter cookies?” he asked, suddenly wondering about allergies. Were Kryptonians allergic to anything besides Kryptonite?
“You know how to make those?” Jon asked with a hint of awe.
“Yep. We can even make some for Fido.” He nodded at Titus who tilted his head.
“His name is Titus,” Damian muttered.
“Of course it is, Midget,” Jason said with a smirk. Jon giggled and Damian glared. On second thought, this might be fun. Leading Jon into the kitchen, he started getting out ingredients. “So you've never made peanut butter cookies before?”
“Mom's a good cook, but she's not very good at baking,” Jon admitted.
Damian snickered as he came over and sat at one of the kitchen island stools. “That loaf of bread could have been used as a weapon.”
Jon laughed and then suddenly turned serious like he was afraid his mom could hear him. “Don't ever tell her that though.”
“How about your Grandma?” Jason figured the kid's grandmother must have made something with him. He pulled out the flour and sugar and set them on the counter. He'd met Martha Kent when he'd visited Smallville with Batman once in his early crime fighting days. He'd been in his Robin gear, but she hadn't batted an eye. She'd called him Sweetheart and offered him a glass of ice tea with a smile. It had made Jason feel like he was going to cry. That night on patrol, he'd beaten a mugger unconscious before Bruce could stop him.
“I don't get to see her very often. But she makes really good chocolate chip cookies.”
“No chocolate for Titus,” Jason said. “It's not good for dogs.”
“He likes peanut butter,” Damian offered as he started reading his book again.
Jason smiled and gathered the rest of the ingredients. “We'll make a special batch for him.”
*******
Two hours later, Titus was napping under the table and both boys were on the couch watching a cartoon while Jason finished the dishes. It was clear Damian was bored as he was paying more attention to the book, but Jon was fully engaged. Mostly. He kept looking at the window before turning back to the television. Was he looking for his dad already? It was dark, but still relatively early. Jason might have to skip patrolling for a couple nights. It had been mostly quiet and the place wasn't going to fall apart without him, but he didn't like it.
Jon suddenly sat up and turned around to stare at the window. “Someone's in trouble!” he said before darting over and throwing it open to get outside. If he felt the shock from the trip wire on the frame, he didn't show it as he disappeared into the early evening gloom.
“Wait!” Jason nearly dropped the bowl he was drying as Jon flew outside. He set it down and ran to the bedroom to get his gear. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and it would take a couple minutes to put everything on. He'd never catch up to him.
Damian rolled his eyes. “Are you worried he's going to get hurt? He's Super, remember?”
“That doesn't mean he won't get the crap kicked out of him. Nobody is going to take it easy on him just because he's a kid,” Jason snapped as he shoved his feet into his boots. He'd have to forgo his Kevlar mesh cargo pants and knee pads, but the chest armor was a must. Strapping his gun holsters around his hips, he grabbed his helmet and headed out into the main room. Damian was in his full Robin gear, minus the the cape.
“No,” Jason said, his voice hard.
“You can try to stop me or you can go after him.” Damian shrugged, looking infuriatingly smug. “Pick one.”
Jason growled and headed for the window with Damian at his heels. He'd worked with him before, so that wouldn't be difficult. But the kid had gotten his ass handed to him a couple of nights ago and he really shouldn't be out again so soon. It would be too easy to do some serious damage to his ankle.
“You hurt yourself again, and I'm dragging your butt back at the manor immediately,” Jason snarled as he headed across the rooftops looking for any sign of a flying child.
“West,” Damian said as he swung ahead of him. “He's over on Exley Street.” If his ribs or his wrist were bothering him, it didn't show.
Jason didn't hear anything on the police scanner in his hood, so he just followed Damian. Beneath the simmering worry, he was belatedly thinking that his was totally going to cramp his style. The Red Hood couldn't be seen hanging out with kids on patrol. He sighed as he swung across to another roof.
By the time they got there, the perp was unconscious and secured with a bent street sign. They were going to have to get the kid some gear to secure criminals so he'd cause less property damage. Jon was standing next to a sobbing woman. His features were twisted in a combination of fury and helplessness. He looked up at Jason pleadingly.
“He was. . . hurting her,” he said, his voice small and a little confused, but with a discordant layer of fury underneath.
“Hood?” the woman said when she raised her head to look at him. Maddy's eye shadow was running down her cheeks and her top was torn. Jason moved forward slowly and knelt beside her. When she leaned toward him, he pulled out a makeup wipe from his belt and gently cleaned her face.
“Hey, Maddy,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?” She was just getting started in her career and her line of work could be rough for the inexperienced.
“Yeah. More scared than hurt,” she said as she leaned into him. “A new client. I was excited when he asked for me. But he was. . .” She glanced nervously at the boys. “He was a little more. . . rough than I . . .” She sighed. “Becca said he was bad news. I should have listened, but the pay was too good to pass up.”
“She knows her stuff, so stick with her. Is she working tonight?” Jason pulled out a safety pin to tack the ripped fabric of her top together. It wasn't great but it was better than nothing. She put her hand on his as he pulled her short coat closed.
“No. She's taking the night off,” she said, a little breathy.
“Let's get you home then.” He helped her up and offered her his arm while pointedly ignoring the open invitation in her eyes. She relented and took it with a small smile.
Jason nodded at the boys. “You two head back. Now,” he added before they could speak. Damian tugged on Jon's sleeve. He hesitated before finally scooping up a suddenly protesting Damian in his arms and leaping out of sight.
“You're ah, assistants. . . seem a little young,” Maddy said. “You auditioning sidekicks?”
“More like babysitting,” he sighed.
“They could learn a lot from you,” she said, sounding strangely confident.
“Maybe.”
By the time Jason had gotten Maddy home and handed her off to Becca, he was getting itchy. Most people knew better than to touch the working girls in his territory, but the time he got back to Exley, the guy had already been picked up by the police. Or most likely he'd gotten away. He'd have to start asking around to find out if this was an isolated incident or if there was trouble brewing that he'd missed. But first, he had a super complicated problem to deal with.
When he got back to the fire escape outside his window, he could hear Damian and Jon arguing inside.
“I am perfectly capable of getting around by myself,” Damian seethed.
“You twisted your ankle. Then you snuck out and made it worse,” Jon protested. “I wasn't going to let you walk on it and have to have your foot cut off.” He blinked and twitched toward the window again before focusing back on Damian.
“Oh, for-” Damian threw his hands up. “I only went out because you took off.”
“To help someone,” Jon said, his voice almost rising to a shout. He winced suddenly.
“You shouldn't have gone out by yourself,” Damian told him calmly. “This isn't Metropolis.”
“No, it's not. Gotham is awful,” Jon said, exasperated. “How can you live here?” He tugged at his hair and scowled. “It's so loud. And that guy. He was. . .” he trailed off, his expression stricken as his hands dropped to his sides. His eyes snapped up when Jason entered the room and took his helmet off.
“You're right. Gotham is awful,” Jason said. “It needs all the help it can get.” He set the helmet down on the back of the couch and looked the kid over. He was still a little twitchy. He'd been on other planets and fought villains of all kinds. Why was this different? “There are people that can't protect themselves the way we can,” Jason told him. “They can't fight the way we can. That's why we live here. So we can fight for them.”
Jon bit his lip. “Is she okay?” he asked. “He was . . .” His fingers caught the edge of his cape and clenched the fabric as his eyes glistened.
Jason went over and knelt down in front of him. “He was a bad guy,” he told him quietly. “He was going to do bad things. But you stopped him.” He reached up to brush a tear away. When Jon's lower lip started quivering, Jason drew him in. Jon wrapped his arms around Jason's neck and clung to him like a little super powered monkey. His grip was tight but not painful as Jason went over to sit on the couch with him. Titus hopped up next to them and rested his chin on Jon's shoulder.
Damian peeled off his mask and sat in the chair, looking concerned. And maybe a little sad. “He's young still,” he said quietly.
Jon stiffened and and turned his head to glare at Damian. “You're not much older,” he said, sniffing and biting back a hiccup.
“By the time I was seven, I had already killed a man.” Damian's voice was frighteningly hollow. “Not all life experiences are the same.” He sighed. “And age doesn't always directly relate to how young or old someone is.”
Jon slumped in Jason's arms for a moment before stiffing again. He glanced at the window nervously before shutting his eyes tight.
“Do you hear something else?” Jason asked him softly, trying to keep his voice pitched low.
“Yelling. Someone's mad. And somebody else is playing their music real loud.” He put his hands over his ears. “Everybody's too noisy,” he whispered, the words dissolving into more tears.
Shit. Having him here was a mistake.
Jason should have immediately taken him to the manor. Berkley was a lot quieter than Crime Alley. He'd never considered Jon's sensitive hearing. Shouldn't Clark have known this would be an issue?
Reaching over to the side table, he grabbed his noise canceling headphones. They were a little big, but he cinched them down so they'd fit Jon's head and moved his little hands so he could settle the pads over the boy's ears. They probably wouldn't cut out everything, but he hoped they'd help, at least a little.
Jon blinked at him before sighing and settling down again. He started to relax more as curled into Jason's chest. After a few quiet minutes when things seemed to calm down, Jon yawned. Jason would probably have to feed him some real food soon to keep up with his metabolism. Pulling out his phone, he sent a text.
“Hey, Big Bird. Gonna have a super-bird sleepover at the manor. Get some pizza ready.”
“Need a ride?
“Nope. Got some safe wheels. Be there in 30.”
“Welp,” Jason said quietly. “Change back into your civies and grab your sh-schtuff,” he told Damian, catching himself at the last minute.
Damian's expression sharpened, but surprisingly, he complied without complaint. By the time he was ready, Jason had Jon wrapped in a blanket to cover his super suit so he could carry him down to his car. He preferred his motorcycle for getting around, but it was hard to carry groceries and gear on a bike. Damian settled in the passenger seat as Jason put Jon in the back with Titus. Their bags went in the trunk.
The drive to the manor was mostly quiet and the night got dark quickly as clouds rolled in and rain started falling. It created a quiet hush in the car. Jason didn't dare turn on the radio in case it bothered Jon.
“This is new,” Damian said quietly.
“What is?” Jason asked.
“The super hearing. His abilities don't always develop evenly. The strength and invulnerability came first and those are stable. But sometimes new things hit him by surprise and he has a hard time adjusting.” Damian huffed and looked out the window. “Learning to fly is going to be a problem. He'll have to be monitored until he gets the hang of it so he doesn't get lost over an ocean or something equally stupid.”
“You put a tracker on him,” Jason said, his brow raised. That must be how he'd known exactly where Jon was.
“It's a sensible option.”
Like father, like son. Jason had lost count of the number of trackers he'd taken off his person. Sometimes Dick or Tim would tag him, but mostly it was Bruce. If Damian was tracking Jon without his knowledge, it was problematic, but that was between the two of them. And it really was a sensible option, though he'd never say so out loud.
Alfred and Ace greeted them at the door. Alfred took their bags before ushering them into the lounge. It was one of the more casual rooms in the mansion in that it didn't feel like part of a museum. It's where the gaming consoles and the main entertainment center were. Both dogs followed Alfred further into the house. Jason was never quite sure how he did it as he'd never seen the man make a gesture or hear him give a command. In the lounge, Dick was setting out plates and napkins next to the pizza boxes on the coffee table. He looked up at them with a smile but it faltered when he saw Jon curled up in Jason's arms.
“Is everything okay?” he asked. Surprisingly, there was only gentle concern in his tone. Not the judgment he'd expected.
“Just a little overstimulated,” Jason said quietly as he nodded at the headphones. He tried not to frown. He didn't have time to puzzle out Dick's behavior just now. He set Jon down on the couch and sighed when his tiny fingers tightened on his shirt to keep him from pulling away. “Want some pizza?” he asked as he settled beside him on the cushions.
Jon brightened, but he pressed closer into Jason's side instead of heading for the boxes. “Pepperoni?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” Dick said as his smile brightened again. He grabbed a plate and nudged a box towards Damian who had sat down on Jon's other side “Veggie Deluxe for you.”
“Of course,” Damian said like he didn't doubt he'd be catered to. Because of course he would. The kid was a vegetarian assassin after all.
When Tim peered around the door frame with a laptop tucked under his arm, Jason scowled.
“What are you doing here?” Jason demanded. Baby Bird had his own apartment to not sleep in.
“Uh, Pizza Sleepover. Duh.” Tim just grinned when Jason rolled his eyes before grabbing a couple pieces of pizza and draping himself over one of the chairs. With his head on one arm and his legs draped over the other, he perched the laptop on his knees and and fiddled with it one handed while balancing a slice in the other. Miraculously, he didn't get grease on anything.
Dick leaned down into Jon's line of sight. “You want to watch a movie or would it be too loud?”
“What movies do you have?” Jon asked around a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese. Jason made grabby hands at Dick who handed him a stack of napkins so he could give one to the kid before he dripped cheese all over his lap.
“We have all the movies,” Tim said with another grin. “Even some that haven't been released yet.”
“Which would be stealing if we watched any of those,” Dick said, giving Tim the side-eye.
“Okay, so we have most of the movies,” Tim amended, not sounding the least bit sorry.
They settled on something animated that wouldn't push too many buttons for anyone. Jon was asleep before it was halfway done and they shut it off so they could finish it later. Jason gently wiped Jon's face before bundling him off to bed while Dick took the empty boxes and plates to the kitchen. Jon woke up enough to groggily change into pajamas before settling in Damian's bed. Damian usually stayed up later than this, but he settled in bed with the book from Jason's apartment without comment. Jon was asleep again before Damian got himself settled. Titus clambered up onto the bed to drape himself over their feet.
“You come get me if anything happens tonight,” Jason told him.
Damian gave him a flat look. “I'm perfectly-”
“-capable of taking care of yourself, blah, blah, blah,” Jason finished, his tone bored. “Don't mess around.” He wasn't taking any chances. They could all take care of themselves, but there were too many variables when it came to a human-kryptonian hybrid that was having literal growing pains. “His well-being comes first, got it?”
Damian held Jason's gaze seriously. “Always.”
Jason nodded before leaving the room. He let out the breath that he didn't know he'd been holding as he headed back into the lounge to drown himself in rapidly cooling cheese. Flopping down onto the couch, he grabbed a slice that was loaded with toppings and shoved half of it into his mouth. Tim watched him for a few moments, idly petting Ace who had his head resting on his stomach, waiting patiently for any crumbs to fall.
“You alright, Jay?” he asked with no hint of sarcasm.
“M'fighgn,” Jason mumbled around a mouthful of cheese and deluxe everything.
“Sure,” Tim said easily. “You looked totally fine when you came to the door looking like you were about to drop everything and bolt.”
Ignoring him, Jason swallowed his mouthful and shoved the crust in after it.
“Stuffing yourself into a pizza-induced coma won't help,” Dick said from the doorway.
Jason just growled and finished chewing. He was too tired to feel insulted by Tim's remark even if it hit a little closer than he liked. Dick settled on the floor in front of the couch and leaned back to rest his head against the cushion at Jason's waist.
“You can stick around until Jon's Mom gets back Friday,” he offered. “There's always plenty of room.
“That's the plan, Dick-for-Brains.” But Jason's jab had no bite and Dick just huffed in amusement.
“You said overstimulated. Is he alright?”
“Apparently, his super-hearing caught him by surprise. He got a little twitchy at my place.” The cat appeared on the back of the couch and landed heavily on Jason's stomach, knocking the breath lightly from him. “Oh my god. How can something so small weigh so much? You are all pointy feet.” Pennyworth the cat ignored him and started kneading, his claws plucking at Jason's shirt and making him wince as the sharp tips grazed him. The rumbling purr that started vibrating his chest was oddly soothing and he stroked a hand along the cat's back. He frowned when he caught Dick watching him with one of those goofy expressions on his face. “What?”
“Nothing,” Dick said quietly. “I'll talk to Clark when he gets back, see if he had any solutions. He must have gone through something similar when he was young. The headphones were a good idea.”
“It's not as bad here. Quieter neighborhood,” Jason said, feeling sleep creeping up on him. But he didn't want to sleep here in the lounge. Tim would probably draw a mustache on him with permanent marker. His eyes snapped open as he remembered what had happened right before figuring out the headphones. “When was the first time it got real for you?” he asked suddenly.
Dick turned his head to look at him. “What do you mean?”
“When did being Robin stop being an adventure? Like, when did the reality of what was actually happening to people sink in for real?”
“Oh. Ah. . .” Dick paused. He hadn't been a stranger to tragedy when he came into Bruce's care. Dick licked his lips. “There was a little boy.” He blew out a breath. “He was falling and I. . . I wasn't fast enough.” His voice was thin.
Jason threaded his fingers through Dick's hair and tugged lightly. Fuck. He hadn't meant to drag up one of his worst memories.
“Hey. If you're-”
“No, it's alright,” Dick sighed. “There are some you never get over. I hadn't lost anybody until then. It's hard to accept the fact that you can't save everyone.”
“Yeah,” Tim agreed quietly.
Dick pushed his head into Jason's hand, distracting him. “What else happened tonight?”
“Kid stopped an assault. One minute he's watching cartoons and eating the last cookie and the next, he's flying out the window because he hears someone in trouble. It wasn't as bad as it could have been. The guy didn't get very far with her before he was stopped. But I think it was kind of, I don't know. . . culture shock, I guess.” The cat stretched in it's sleep, splaying out its furry little toes before tucking its head up under Jason's chin. “It's weird how fighting super villains and alien invaders doesn't seem quite as bad as someone on the street genuinely getting hurt. Sometimes the little stuff seems more important, you know?”
“None of it's little stuff,” Dick said. “Every life matters. And evil doesn't have to be big to be bad.”
“Thanks, Captain Fortune Cookie,” Jason muttered as he pushed Dick's head lightly away. Tim snorted a laugh. Cradling the cat in one arm, Jason sat up. The cat decided to be insulted and promptly abandoned him, stalking out of the room in a furry huff. Jason sighed and headed to bed and refused to admit he was disappointed. He didn't stay here often, but Alfred maintained his room despite Jason's unwillingness to actually sleep in it most of the time.
Dick's voice followed him up the stairs. “'Night, Little Wing.”
“Go to bed, Dickface,” Jason muttered under his breath. He could have sworn he heard Tim snort again before he shut his door.
*******
Jason woke when his door opened. If Tim was going to try and prank him again, he was going to throw him out the window. But instead of a sneaky Baby Bird, Jon stood silhouetted in the dim light from the hallway. His arm was raised like he was about to thrown something.
“Whassup, Kiddo?” Jason asked, frowning at him as he tried to make out what he had in his hand.
“Are you awake, Mr. . . Jason?”
“Yep. Why are you awake?”
“It's a big house,” Jon said hesitantly.
“You get lost on the way back from the bathroom?”
“No. Um. Can I. . .” He faltered and looked like he was going to leave.
“C'mere.”
Jon wasted no time in shuffling over and crawling up onto the mattress. He looked at Jason and then at what turned out to be a tennis ball in his hand. “Damian said I should throw something before getting close because you wake up bad sometimes.”
Jason took the ball from him and set it on the bedside table. “Not a bad idea,” he said. “I can be pretty cranky when I'm surprised.”
“He, um, also said you have nightmares. Sometimes.” He knelt on the bed as if he was still dubious about his welcome. “When I have bad dreams, I sneak into my parent's room.”
“Did you have a bad dream?” Jason asked him quietly.
Jon nodded, looking small.
Jason flipped back the blanket and Jon took the invitation to curl up next to him. Jason had no idea how he suddenly became the safe one. As he was settling, the door opened again and Damian came in. He got into bed on Jason's other side without a word.
Good grief.
*******
When Jason heard the shutter click this time, it was Alfred behind the camera. Jason just sighed and ignored him. Like he ignored both sleeping boys who were half sprawled across him. And the two dogs pinning down his legs. And the cat that was doing its best to take up all the space on his pillow, making his right ear and the side of his neck all sweaty.
“Oh, my god,” Tim whispered from somewhere behind Alfred.
“Told you so,” Dick said.
“What 'till Bruce sees this,” Tim said, sounding far too gleeful.
Dammit. Now that truly was a nightmare. This was why Jason never came to the manor. It came with too much baggage that he was rarely able to handle. He usually ducked out as soon as he could whenever he ended up here. But right now, he was too tired to even consider sneaking out. Besides, they'd just follow him anyway.