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On the day Bruce brought home Jason - an action so impulsive it had startled even him - the boy had clutched a ratty backpack to his chest as if it were the single most precious thing in the world, huddling as close to the car door - and as far away from Bruce - as was physically possible.
Bruce found the reaction more than understandable. When you had very little, the things you did have became all the more precious. He made no move to take the bag from Jason as he showed him around the manor.
At the front door, when Alfred asked Jason to take off his shoes - they were practically falling apart, the soles loose and the laces so worn they looked like frayed rope - Jason had given them both a wary glance, before unlacing his shoes and putting them into his backpack for safe keeping.
There was a certain anxiety in Jason’s actions; a fear of having his belongings stolen that Jason couldn’t seem to shake, even if Bruce was wealthy enough he’d never need to help himself to Jason’s things.
Jason slept with his backpack on his chest every night for two and a half weeks. Every night, when Bruce came in to check that he was sleeping, his heart would break a little at the sight of the boy clutching onto a backpack like it was a stuffed animal. As if it would bring him comfort…
Dick had slept with a stuffed animal well into his teens. Maybe Jason would want one?
Bruce knew he hadn't been a great father to Dick - especially in the latter years - but maybe Jason could give him an opportunity to do better?
Maybe…
This whole place was so overwhelming. It felt like Jason was one wrong move away from breaking something or getting into somewhere he wasn’t meant to be, and this whole thing would come crashing down around him. Every hallway was covered in paintings that probably cost more than the monthly rent of his parents apartment, and Jason was pretty sure that the vase he knocked over was expensive, even if Bruce told him it was no big deal. Willis woulda socked him for breaking something that expensive.
Then again, Willis probably woulda socked him anyways, even if nothing got broken.
Jason couldn't help being anxious about it. It wasn’t that he thought Bruce was a bad guy - he was Batman - but sooner or later the other shoe was gonna drop, and it would be Jason’s head on the chopping block.
Which was why he had to be ready to run at any moment. If things really went to shit, he had to be ready to bail at a moment's notice.
He kept everything that was really his in his backpack. Nothing that Bruce bought for him, though. That was all Bruce’s, really; Jason was just borrowing it.
Even Robin was borrowed from someone better than him.
Jason was used to feeling small, but something about Bruce always made him feel miniscule.
Everything finally blew up in his face when Jason came back from Robin training to find that his backpack had gone missing. It wasn’t in any of his hiding spots. That meant he had lost all of his clothes, his lighter, his shoes and the small amounts of food and money he had stockpiled.
Why? Why would Bruce steal his things? He already had so much. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all!
Not that the universe cared about fair when it came to Jason.
Nah, fuck this. Jason wasn’t gonna take this shit lying down. He wasn’t gonna let Bruce get away with stealing. That was a crime. Wasn’t Batman against crime?
Sometime between storming into the Cave, Jason managed to lose his nerve. Maybe it was the idea of shouting down the scourge of Gotham. Maybe it was just that Bruce was twice his size on a good day. Maybe it was those self-preservation instincts kicking in.
By the time Jason mustered up the courage to ask where his backpack had gone, his voice came out downright timid.
Bruce stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head. “Jason, I did not take any of your belongings.”
“Then where are they?” Jason asked. “They’re not in my room!”
“Stay calm, Chum,” Bruce said, standing up and patting Jason on the shoulder. A month ago, he would have batted Bruce’s hand away.
This time, he didn’t.
It meant something, probably.
“Can we find it?” Jason asked. “Please?”
“We will,” Bruce promised. The realisation that Jason trusted Bruce to keep his promises came as more of a shock than it probably should have. They were Batman and Robin. Why wouldn’t they trust each other?
Maybe needing a to-go bag in the first place was a sign that he was just a bad kid who didn’t know how to accept something good.
The idea was too overwhelming to address, so Jason shoved it away as far as it would go.
They found his bag eventually, when Bruce took him to look in the laundry room. There, they found Alfred folding laundry, while Jason’s backpack and clothes spun around in the washing machine.
Jason couldn’t help it. He was pissed. Alfred had basically stolen his things, because he thought Jason was a disgusting little street rat who wormed his way some place he didn’t belong. Nah, fuck him. Fuck this.
Striding across the room with purpose, Jason crouched down and tried to figure out how to unlock the door to the washing machine.
“Master Jason, you will not open that door,” Alfred insisted. “The cycle is not finished.”
“Don’t care. It’s my stuff. You’re not allowed to take it.”
“I was not taking your belongings,” said Alfred. “I was cleaning them.”
“Yeah, cuz you think I’m a dirty fucking street rat,” Jason snapped. “At least Bruce likes me. Aren’t you supposed to listen to your boss, Mr. Pennyworth?”
A low blow, sure, but Jason was pissed, so he didn’t care.
“Master Jason!”
“Will you stop calling me that?!” Jason shouted.
The pair stared at each other for a long moment.
“My apologies,” Alfred said, crouching down next to Jason. “I did not realise how much this would upset you.”
“... it’s stealing,” Jason gritted. “You stole from me.”
Why didn’t Alfred understand?
“My boy, if you wait just an hour, I will return your backpack and clothes to you, clean and dry,” Alfred said. “Everything else in your backpack is on the table over there. If you look through it, you will see that everything is present and correct.”
Though hesitant, Jason slowly nodded, standing up to look at the money and food laid out on the table.
Bruce picked up one of the protein bars on the table and looked a little sick. “Jason, have you been eating these?”
Jason shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“These are far past their best before. I do not think they are safe to eat.”
“Oh…”
“I’ll get you some replacement ones,” Bruce said. “I promised to look after you, right?”
“Yeah?”
“That includes giving you food that is safe to eat,” continued Bruce. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“My boy, do you want to stay in here to watch your clothes be washed and dried?” Alfred asked. “There is no wrong answer.”
“C-Can I stay?”
“Of course you can. I would enjoy the company while I fold the laundry.”
Bruce piped up. “Perhaps, next time, you should let Jason know before you take something to wash.”
“That is a very wise idea,” Alfred replied. “I am truly sorry for startling you, Jason.”
“Yeah, whatever. It’s okay.”
Jason sat in front of the washing machine until the cycle was finished, then Alfred explained how the tumble dryer worked. Jason had never really had enough money to wash his clothes in the laundromat, so it was actually kinda cool to see how it worked.
By the time the clothes and backpack where dry, it was late evening, and Jason was starting to doze off. Alfred took them out the dryer, carefully repacked Jason’s backpack, and placed it by his side.