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It'll protect you. It's made from the threads your friends wove together.
Zeniba, Spirited Away
"That was sloppy," said Bruce looking down at his communicator. "When I return we'll practice the group maneuvers until we get them right."
With that he vanished, already speaking quietly to whoever was on duty at the Watchtower and fully immersed in the next emergency.
Jason scowled at his retreating back. By this point, he was just about capable of admitting that Bruce wasn't a half bad father figure these days. He seemed to be trying anyway. But occasionally he'd get distracted and slip back into his old drill sergeant ways. He found it far too easy to forget that half the people he was talking to were kids, with all the squishy human feelings and desire to please that entailed.
To be fair, the body language and flurries of messages suggested something fairly significant was going on in a galaxy far, far away. But in Gotham, with his children, they'd just corralled a fairly significant Arkham breakout and were all exhausted and varying degrees of battered. No one needed to hear that their performance had been sloppy and could be improved. Not before they'd had a chance to rest.
He looked around the rooftop through the concealing lenses of his helmet. Cass was perched on top of the lift access staring off into the skyline through her solid black mask, just a black hole against the lighter sky. But she was more rigid than she should have been for the end of a fight. Tim was tapping his gloved fingers against his arm and fidgeting, weight shifting from foot to foot. He was holding his left arm stiffly. Jason was pretty sure it had been dislocated when he'd tumbled Damian out of the way of a flaming truck.
The demon brat was ruffled and singed and probably sore. He looked about as disconsolate as Jason had ever seen him, after all, he had the least practice coping with Bruce's demanding standards. When dealing with Damian by himself, Bruce was a lot better at watching what he said.
Steph and Duke were leaning against each other and it looked like it was the only reason they were still upright. Duke had a couple of minor wounds that were leaking blood through his suit.
Jason waited for someone to make a move, roll their eyes, raise morale, do something.
Except that would usually be Dick wouldn't it? And Dick was sitting on the floor, resting his head very gently against the cold concrete at Jason's hip. Concussed: the idiot.
Well Bruce's A+ parenting or not, Jason needed to get Dick home. Having him out in the open and injured was making his skin crawl.
He bent and levered Dick up.
"C'mon Dickface, home time."
Dick groaned and opened his eyes long enough to catch the abandoned orphan vibes the rest of the bats were emitting. He wavered in their direction and then winced.
"Sorry guys. I'd say come to mine for movies and commiseration, but I've…"
He trailed off, waving a hand at his head and Jason completed his sentence waspishly.
"Been using your thick skull like a cocktail shaker for your brain?"
Dick huffed a laugh and squeezed his arm through the layers of body armor. Jason looked him over again wondering if he needed a scan. This was why sensible vigilantes wore a helmet.
He looked back at the bats to see them starting to move to the fire escape, exhaustion and despondency in every limb.
"For fucks sake! You look like fucking starving, Dickensian orphans. Oracle, send them our location. They can come join us if they must."
He turned away quickly so he couldn't see their reactions.
When they got to ground level he watched Dick climb onto his bike behind him and considered stealing a car.
"You gonna be able to hang on, Big Blue?"
Dick tutted.
"I'm not that bad, Hood. I could get home on my own if I had to." He rested his head against Jason's shoulder and sighed. "I'm enjoying not having to."
Jason grunted but it was nice to have Dick leaning on him, literally and figuratively. It was only since they'd started their probably doomed relationship that he'd realized how badly Dick needed someone in his corner. Not in any physical way, Dick was an amazing fighter and still probably the best and strongest of any of the bats. But he needed someone to come home to, to talk to, to care about. Jason wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth if Dick wanted that to be him.
Overbearing, lovable ass.
"We'd better get back before all your little batlings start invading."
Dick buried his face in the leather jacket and laughed.
"Yours too."
His voice was smug.
"They are not. I did not sign up for this big brother shit."
"Kinda did, though," Dick said, raising his voice as they roared off. "You fed the stray cats. Now you'll never get rid of them."
"I could get rid of them…" he threatened.
"But you won't," Dick carrolled.
When they got back to one of Jason's bigger safe houses he stripped them both off and dragged them Dick into the shower. He wasn’t risking the idiot getting dizzy and smacking his abused head off the tiles.
They weren't in any condition for anything athletic but he still enjoyed running the cheap bar of soap over the hard lines of Dick's body and exchanging watery kisses under the spray. Dick looked at him with water droplets clinging to his insanely long lashes and grinned, short nails digging into Jason's ass.
"Remember the last time we were in here together?"
It had been a couple of weeks ago but Jason remembered it vividly. He'd nearly passed out from how long they'd spent in the steam and it had been totally worth it.
"I remember."
"Yeah?"
Dick's voice had gone deep and breathless, he curled his fingers around and ran them over much more sensitive places. Jason shifted out of the way with some regret.
"No. We do not have time for that."
Dick laughed and bit lightly into Jason's shoulder.
"We could be quick."
"We have never once been quick, Dick." He sucked in a breath as Dick's fingers found another sensitive spot. "Tomorrow."
He stepped out of the shower and Dick turned back to the spray still chuckling.
"Spoilsport."
He had an inkling that Dick quite liked the very occasional times Jason turned him down. He might love to tease but having a relationship not totally based on sex was clearly important to him. Dick was so very pretty Jason wondered how many of his past partners had made him feel like sex was all they wanted from him.
He pulled on sweats and a vest and went to the kitchen to guzzle a shitload of gatorade and protein shake.
Dick appeared a few minutes later looking devastating in Jason's clothes with his hair dripping down his neck and making the thin cotton see-through and clingy. Jason turned away before he got too distracted and dumped two bars of chocolate into a pan. He filled it up with milk and slapped a whisk into Dick's hand.
"Do not stop stirring. Do not turn the temperature up. I don't care if it doesn't look like it's doing anything."
"Yes sir, Mr Red Hood, sir."
Jason knocked a fist on the hard chest, threateningly.
"Quiet. Or I'll give you Red Hood."
Dick’s smile widened, showing perfect white teeth.
"I think I've already got him."
Jason turned away on a grumble. That was true, if regrettable.
Shelving that massive crack in his armor to worry about another time, he distracted himself by dragging the king sized mattress from their bed into the living room and dumped a pile of blankets on top of it.
The first arrival, only a few minutes later was Steph. She was clearly early because she'd not bothered to actually change, just pulled on an oversized pair of jeans and a hoodie over her uniform and shoved her cloak and gear in a rucksack. She looked like any student until you saw her swiftly developing pair of black eyes and hair lank with dried sweat. It pushed her image from promising young mind to battered teen on the run.
She slid past him with a happy cry when she saw the mattress.
Jason restrained her with a hand on her narrow shoulder.
"Boots off."
Grumbling she tore them off and dived under the cover with a groan. After a moment there was a flurry of grunts and rustling of covers and her uniform was tossed out from under the blankets.
Her face emerged from the mess with the hood up over her hair. She blinked at the light.
"Do I smell hot chocolate?"
Tim was next to arrive; an almost aggressive knock was completely contradicted by the way he hovered in the doorway as if uncertain of his welcome.
Jason rolled his eyes.
"Make your mind up, Timtam. In or out."
He slid in, toed off his shoes and went to curl up in an armchair, eyes darting around the room even as he reached out a socked foot to poke the Steph-shaped lump in the middle of the mattress.
It squawked in outrage.
Jason dug a pile of cold packs out of the freezer and put them on the coffee table for the battered batlings to help themselves to. He made sure to drop one on Tim’s bad shoulder as he passed.
Next to appear was Cass, who materialized at the window in yoga leggings, sneakers and a black hoodie. She tapped politely and then smoothly bypassed the security system to climb inside. She gave Jason a finger wave and slipped under the covers with Steph. Jason sent her a not-at-all mocking salute.
Last were Duke and Damian who seemed to have actually gone back to the Manor to get patched up before heading over.
Duke was carrying a stack of pizzas which he dumped on the floor next to the mattress.
“They’ll last about 5 seconds but it’s a start.” He waved a hand at the bag Damian was carrying. “And Alfred sends cookies.”
“Duke,” Jason said very seriously. “You're my favorite.”
Duke grinned.
“You keep saying that. But I'm pretty sure it's Dick.”
Jason shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“You two know each other?” Tim asked from his spot on the couch, sharp eyes focusing. Jason frowned at the Bruce-like need to know every single thing about the people around him.
“Red Hood is around in the daytime more than the rest of you night owls,” said Duke easily.
Jason rolled his shoulders and made an effort to relax. His guys on the street approved of Signal, a few of them had taken beatings from him but mostly they ended up on the same side. Plus Signal had interrupted a beat-down one of his men had been getting from a couple of the more corrupt members of the boys in blue. It had endeared the canary yellow cape to them all.
His eyes turned to Damian and once he’d been noticed the little gremlin stepped forward and bowed formally.
“The invitation to your home is appreciated, journeyman.”
Jason smirked but pushed himself off the counter he’d been leaning on and returned the bow more deeply. Damian couldn’t help that he’d been raised to be absurdly formal about these things.
“Ibn al Xu’ffasch, be welcome.”
Damian relaxed and Jason ruffled his hair as he walked back into the kitchen.
“Be honest, you just wanted to see me bowing again.”
“I was being polite, philistine!”
Jason ignored him and wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist to peer at the hot chocolate. It smelt amazing. Dick hummed happily and leaned back against him.
“You’re worryingly quiet over here,” he murmured into Dick’s ear.
“If I open my mouth all I’m gonna say is ‘aww’ every five seconds. Be glad for the quiet.”
“Alright. I’m glad.”
He leaned down and kissed the junction between Dick’s neck and shoulder and then gave it a nip. Dick hummed deep in his throat.
Jason felt eyes on them and looked round to catch Tim looking hastily away. He grinned but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t blame anyone for looking at a happy Dick Grayson like that. He’d done it himself often enough. For Dick’s sake he wouldn’t draw attention to it. Tim was plenty old enough to find Dick attractive but Tim was far too young for Dick to be comfortable looking back.
He confiscated the whisk from Dick and poured out hot chocolate for them both.
“If you want some, go get get some,” he said to the rest of the interlopers as he and Dick headed for the couch.
The batlings scrambled up, groaning as their stiff, post-fight muscles screamed and immediately started arguing. Jason took the opportunity to claim the best seat and drag Dick down against his chest. Dick sighed in relief, tucking his presumably throbbing head securely between Jason and the couch cushion and shutting his eyes.
The squabbling pack drifted back to their places with steaming hot chocolate but Damian hung back looking at the squirming mess of limbs, blankets and cushions uncertainly.
He looked at Jason and drummed his finger against the edge of the mug in his hands.
“Is this permissible?”
“Is what, what?” asked Steph, looking mystified.
Dick’s head rolled towards Damian, Jason felt him wince as his concussion presumably protested the movement and gently tipped it back.
“Does it break Big Bat's rules?” he asked. Damian didn’t respond, his eyes flicking away and scowl deepening. Jason took a breath and pictured putting a bullet through Ra’s’ fucked up brain and tried again. “Is it doing anyone any physical or emotional harm?”
“No.”
He smiled at Damian wolfishly.
“Then you don't need any fucking permission, gremlin.”
Damian relaxed a little and Cass reached out a hand to him from the blanket nest, flipping open a corner next to her and Steph.
Damian stepped delicately into the space and settled down like a cat, not touching but close enough that he could change his mind if he wished. Cass smiled down at him.
“Right!” said Duke, breaking the silence before it could become awkward. “What are we watching?”
There was an immediate chorus of voices. Jason groaned.
“Duke! Rookie mistake. Never ask for suggestions. And no, Steph,” he said, addressing the loudest demand first, “we are not watching any kung-fu movies. This is ‘quiet time’ not ‘see if we can replicate the moves’ time.”
This might only be a safe house but he quite liked it and didn’t want it damaged.
“It’s all wire work anyway,” Tim muttered and Steph glared at him. The argument immediately broke out again. Jason groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt Dick shaking and sniggering against him.
“...no, we're not watching any Disney movies that'll make Dick cry.”
“…Timbo, Ted talks may be relaxing for you but not for the rest of us.”
“...Damian’s too young for that.”
“I am not!”
“Suck it up, shivlet. You got sent here to be a real boy. And that means age appropriate movies.”
“...Princess Bride is actually a good call. Didn’t know you had it in you, Timmers.”
Tim flipped him the finger.
“Sorry, me and Cass watched it last week,” interrupted Steph. “Independence Day?”
“Not if you plan to quote it all the way through again,” said Damian, Steph stuck her tongue out at him but didn’t try and deny it.
“Spirited Away?” Duke suggested.
“Yes,” said Dick pointing at him in approval, eyes still closed.
“Any arguments?” asked Jason. “Alright then.”
It was guaranteed that they’d all be asleep before Sen got to Zeniba but that was probably for best anyway. He’d take a photo for Alfred and then drag Dick into a proper bed for the night.