Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruce was leaving him behind.

Again.

Jason barely noticed the burning heat, the scream of the crumbling bricks, or how the whole world seemed to be breaking apart. His explosions had gone off? His explosions had gone off. He tried to push himself up, tried to shake the ringing noise from his head, but the movement made the side of his neck scream in agony. All he could focus on was Bruce carrying the Joker out of the fiery rubble.

He was going to die.

Again.

He tried to pull one of his gloves off, so he could feel the wound, see how much damage Bruce had done, but his hands were shaking too hard; he had to use his teeth instead. The material tasted like copper and gunpowder. It almost overwhelmed the ashy smoke flooding his senses.

With trembling fingers, he found the long, straight slit that Bruce’s batarang had carved into his throat. The skin there felt wet and it hurt too much for him to even process. He tried to talk. Nothing but a gasp came out.

Jason knew pain, had been trained in it, had been tortured through it, but this felt worse. Maybe because Bruce had been the one to inflict it.

After being homeless in the Alley, Bruce disowning him and Sheila lying to him, the Joker and the bomb, crawling out of his grave and then the League, the Pit and the training, Talia and everything she had done to him, and then being back in Gotham, after all of it, he was going to die.

Again.

What if he woke up in another coffin? Would he have to claw himself out again, panicked and damaged and alone?

A bright flash of light had him screwing his eyes shut, convinced that a gas line had been hit and this was the end. When the burning scream of pain never happened, he forced them open.

A woman stood in front of him.

Everything about her was white; her dress, so long it dragged through the dirt and debris but somehow stayed clean, her long hair, and her pale skin that looked like marble. She was tall, taller than Bruce. Power radiated off her — the air shimmered with each step she took towards him. Her expression was placid but there was a tension around her mouth.

When she looked at him, her eyes were all white. No pupil or iris.

“Oh no,” she said. The words vibrated in his bones. “This is not what I had in mind for you, Jason Peter Todd. I wanted you to escape this violence. I wanted for you to finally find the peace you deserve." She examined her for a long moment. "Let me try again.”

She stared into the air in front of her as if there was something there, flicking through it like someone might browse tabs on a computer. He watched her, each breath a ragged gasp that hitched in his chest. Blood warmed his fingers. It slid down his palm and onto his wrist as he tried to keep pressure on his neck.

Bruce had cut his throat. He had saved the Joker and cut Jason's throat.

He couldn’t stop thinking it.

Bruce had cut his throat. He had saved the Joker and cut Jason's throat.

“Oh. Yes. This looks promising.” She hummed. “Not perfect but he could always treat him as a little brother. Yes. Yes. That will work.” She knelt down beside him and shook her head. “I should have given you more guidance. I should have known better than to interfere in human affairs. Alas, hubris.” She stroked cold fingers through his hair. “Stop fighting, Jason Peter Todd. Let yourself rest. It is time.”

Smoke was thick on his tongue when he opened his mouth but he found he could talk. “I don't want to die again.”

“Oh no, my boy. I am not her. This is not that.” She stroked over his cheek. “Let yourself have this,” she whispered before she put her hands on his chest and pushed.

Jason was flung from the wreckage with explosive force.

He fell through blackness, blackness, blackness.

Just when he felt he would disintegrate from the pressure crushing him on all sides, he crashed down hard onto soft carpet. It took him a long moment to catch his breath, to put pressure back onto the wound on his neck. It took him too long to remember to check out the place he had landed.

He lifted his head with a pained gasp that he failed to trap behind his teeth.

Moonlight lit up a darkened apartment. He blinked stinging tears out of his eyes. He couldn't recognise anything in the dim lights coming from the streets far, far below. Before he could do anything else, before he could even really take in where he was, a lamp flicked on and a gun was aimed at him.

A man with a metal arm stood wielding it with an ice cold expression on his face. “Who the hell are you?” he rasped, voice cold.

Jason shifted, blinking when he moved out of the shadows and into the light.

“Jason?” The man's gun dropped to his side. “Is that blood?”

“Buck, what's going on?” A boy emerged from the hallway, wearing red pajamas covered in multicolored books, and wiping his eyes like he'd just woken up. “What was that noise?”

Jason gasped when the boy pulled his hands from his face.

It was him. Little him. Tiny him.

He blinked but the kid was still there. It couldn’t be real — it had to be some type of dying dream. A hallucination, or coma.

“Buck?” Little him asked again, voice wobbling as his eyes darted between the two of them. “Is that me?”

Jason decided that this was a good time to pass out.

He wasn't restrained. That was his first thought.

His second was that his boots were gone along with the comforting protection of his suit. And if his armor was gone, he didn’t even have to wonder about his weapons. Not that he could feel the comforting weight of them. Even the hidden ones were missing.

He had been searched, stripped and then left unrestrained.

He didn’t understand how a mistake like that had been made but he knew he would make whoever had him regret it. He didn’t need his weapons to do some real damage. He had definitely shown that to Bruce in their last fight.

And with that last thought, it all came rushing back.

The Batarang. The explosion. Bruce saving the Joker and leaving Jason to die.

Still, he didn’t move. Didn’t change his breathing. Didn’t react in any way. Just assessed his surroundings like Talia had taught him.

The bed beneath him was soft; not a prison cell or something similar. He couldn’t get the scent of burning candles, spices or the burning heat of the desert that had permeated the air in Nanda Parbat. At least Talia hadn’t gotten him again. He didn't think he could handle being back under her thumb; it had taken long enough to escape the first time.

He remembered the white woman and the burning pressure of wherever she had thrown him.

He didn't want to think about that yet.

Disinfectant. Wherever he was smelt like the medbay in the Batcave, but it was missing the dampness, the musky growth of the underground. This place smelled clean; modern and well ventilated. There were blankets pulled up to his chest. They weren’t the scratchy, overwashed type that hospitals usually had. These were soft, almost comforting.

The quiet breaths of two people sitting nearby dragged him back to alertness with a spike of fear and adrenaline. His League training kicked in before anyone would have even realized he was awake; it kept his heartbeat steady. He focused on everything else around him — the soft susurration of an A/C unit, the cannula in his nose, and the steady beat of a heart monitor. It all confirmed that he was in some sort of hospital.

“I know you're awake, pal.” The man spoke gently as if he didn’t want to startle him. “You’re safe here.”

Where was here?

No. His brain was starting to make connections, form conclusions, and he did not want to figure it out. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about that right now.

Jason opened his eyes, shifting his head to the side with a wince. It took him a moment to remember the apartment, tiny him, and the man with the metal arm. He found Little Jay, curled up on the same man's lap, fast asleep with the metal arm holding him steady.

Jason couldn't remember ever trusting someone that much. Not Bruce. Not even Alfred.

He hissed when he tried to sit up. He was pissed off, sore, and annoyed that wherever he was, this smaller version of him had been adopted by some rich fuck as well.

If the kid was being trained to be a vigilante, Jason was stealing him away.

Tonight.

“Maybe stay down for now.” The man frowned in what Jason thought was maybe sympathy. “Jaybug wouldn't let us give you painkillers.”

Jason rolled his eyes and smirked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Rule number one of enemy territory was to never let them know when you were out of your depth. Rule number two was never let them know you were afraid.

Luckily, he wasn’t scared. He was pretty sure the League had beaten that out of him.

Jason ignored him and pushed himself up. No one had kept him down yet — death hadn’t even managed it — and this stranger wasn’t going to fool him with his fake sympathy and soft voice.

Talia had used the same tactics; Jason had fallen for it at first, desperate for safety and fucking love. He’d learned that lesson hard and he would never forget it.

He thought maybe the man’s name was Buck, but he wasn’t sure if he was remembering that right. His metal arm was mostly covered by a gray hoodie. But the silver hand rested gently on Little Jay’s hip, holding him safely in place.

Or keeping him there.

Jason didn’t know yet.

“He said you'd freak out if you woke up high,” Buck said, dragging Jason’s attention away from those metal fingers. “I can get Bruce to give you some if you want.”

“Bruce?” he asked, voice rough and gravelly.

He hated that he could hear his heart speeding up in the monitor he was strapped up to. Sure, he could wake up in a strange location with no idea where he was and keep calm, but mention Bruce fucking Wayne, and Jason lost all of his hard won abilities to control his body.

He didn’t want to see Bruce. He really, really didn’t. Not now. Not after everything.

“Bruce?” he asked again. “Here?”

“Our doctor,” Buck said easily but his eyes were on the screen currently betraying Jason. “Bruce Banner.”

Jason let out a shaking breath that he knew the man picked up on by the way his eyebrows furrowed. He couldn’t find it in himself to care that he was revealing weaknesses because Bruce wasn't here. He couldn’t do anything to Jason. Not right now.

He took a couple of breaths, let his heartbeat calm, and put his walls back up.

He had long practice doing it.

He sounded like he had gargled glass when he whispered, “No painkillers.”

The man watched him, eyes taking in too much. They settled on Jason’s face once he had managed to get the stupid beeping steady again. “I have one question.”

He nodded, keeping his face neutral. He knew it would probably be something he couldn't answer, or something that hurt.

It always hurt.

Buck, although Jason was still skeptical that that was his name, took a breath and asked, “Are you from the future?”

Relief flooded him. That he could answer. He didn't want to, but it was too late, his brain had already figured it out.

Alternate dimension felt like something out of one of his sci-fi novels but he had come back from the dead. Nothing was off limits at this point. No matter how insane. And it was the only thing that made sense; his brain might have currently felt like scrambled eggs but he was still raised by Batman. He knew how to collect clues, analyze results, and form conclusions.

The strange woman had flipped through something he couldn't see, universes probably, and decided this one with Little Jay, not perfect but he could always treat him as a little brother, was the one worth sending him to.

Maybe he could kill the Joker in this universe before he ever got near the child sleeping so trustingly in front of him.

He could still hear that laugh, bouncing around his skull like a fucking ping bong ball.

“Alternate…” He paused, throat aching. That was a benefit in a way; no way to interrogate him when he could barely talk. “Dimension.”

Tension fell from Buck’s shoulders, and he dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Thank fuck.”

The reaction pissed Jason off and he didn’t know why. “Disappointed?”

“Hell no,” he said vehemently. “It’s just if you were from the future than I seriously fucked up with my kid and I wouldn't have been able to cope with that.” His arms tightened around the kid and in response Little Jay shuffled sleepily into his chest. Buck ran a hand through his curls until he settled.

Jason had to look away as jealousy burned through him. No one had ever looked at him with that much love. Not Bruce. Not Alfred. Not even his mom. Not that he could remember anyway.

He forced himself to think critically; Little Jay had no bruises on the bit of skin Jason could see, he was sleeping in the arms of this man, and he clearly trusted him if just Buck’s hand in his hair was enough for him to relax. So far Jason wasn’t picking up any bad vibes but he was going to stick around until he was sure this tiny version of him was safe.

He couldn't manage to shape the whole question so he asked with as much snark as he could manage, “Do with me?”

“Stark put you through his fancy healing machine so your throat is mostly better. You still need to rest your voice though. The other injuries need time to heal as well. We were mostly focused on saving your life.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It shuddered slightly on the exhale. The hand on Little Jay’s hip tightened just enough to be visible.

“Jaybug said you'd probably hate the infirmary, that you'd want to get out as soon as possible, but I'd rather ask you these things then assume you've had the same life experiences.”

Jason wasn’t used to that kind of consideration. It took him a second to get his rioting emotions under control again. He kept his face expressionless as he did but couldn't help how he clenched his fists in the sheets.

“Didn’t answer.” He finally noticed the plastic cup of water on the table by his bed. He took a sip but it did little to ease the painful ache stretching across his throat. “What are you going to do with me?”

His throat burned afterwards but he didn’t care. He wasn’t sitting here letting another rich prick decide his life.

The man sighed, sounding suddenly exhausted. “You're what? Seventeen?”

Jason pressed himself further up in the bed, ignoring the sharp ache, so he could take advantage of all the height that the Lazarus Pit had given him. He took another sip of water.

“Nineteen.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

There was something intimidating about the expression; a coldness and confidence that shook through Jason, destroying the foundations drilled into him by months of harsh punishments by the worst of the worst.

“Practically,” he conceded, finding it hard to keep eye contact. Who the hell was this guy?

Buck smiled; it softened his whole face. “Are you even eighteen?”

Jason looked away.

He nodded. “Not until August, right?”

“Maybe I have a different birthday,” Jason shot back, and took another sip of water when it made pain shoot through up his throat and into his jaw.

“Wanna try that again?” he asked in a tone that allowed no arguing.

“Eighteen in August,” Jason admitted, annoyed that he felt chastised.

“So six months until you’re legal.” He ran his hands up Little Jay’s back. “You can stay with us.”

Before Jason could argue that he didn't want or need to stay with them, Little Jay sat up suddenly and cheered.

Jason hid his flinch by pretending to fix his blankets.

“I knew you'd let him stay. I knew it.” He grinned at Jason, like he hadn't just been faking sleep. “We have a guest room that you can have. Usually Steve sleeps there before he sneaks into Bucky's room because he has old fashioned sensi… sensibilities.” He stumbled over the word in his speed. “But he'll just have to catch up to this century.”

Jason thought maybe he would be amused if his heart wasn’t pounding in his ears. Little Jay’s comfort and amusement was another point to him being safe but there was no way Jason was staying.

“I’m not staying.”

“But you have to,” Little Jay said as his face fell. “Bucky said you could.”

Jason had never been good at disappointing kids — a huge part of being Red Hood was looking after the street kids — and it was even harder when the little kid was a younger version of himself. Because he might not know this version of himself, but he knew enough.

And he knew this was another rich asshole in charge of the kid’s future. He didn’t know this man. He didn’t know these people. He didn't know if Little Jay was safe. He swallowed down the guilt; he had to make sure that no one was hurting him. He couldn’t leave until he was sure.

Bucky watched Jason carefully, eyes noticing everything, before he grabbed Little Jay’s piercing attention away with a sigh. “I knew you were awake, Jaybug.”

Little Jay twirled around, face aghast. “You did not!”

“Pal, I can hear your heartbeat,” he said, in a voice that was so soft and so full of love that Jason felt like he should look away. “I know what it sounds like when you’re asleep.”

“Creepy,” Jason said at the same time as Little Jay.

Little Jay smiled like he had been given the best gift ever. “This is going to be awesome,” he whispered mostly to himself. “You’ve got to come with us. Please.”

Jason stared up at the ceiling to get away from the desperate look on Little Jay’s face. “Fine,” he said. “Why not?”

He cheered. “Let's get out of here. This place sucks.”

Even though technically Jason was only going with them because he didn’t have the heart to say no to Little Jay’s puppy eyes, he was a talented enough liar to convince himself it was because he had to check out the situation and make sure the kid was actually safe.

He refused to let Bucky help him out of the bed, swiping away his hands with a growl as he slowly pushed himself up. Bucky stepped back with his hands up and a furrow between his eyebrows.

Jason wanted to keep refusing help, because showing weakness was dangerous, but Little Jay didn’t wait for permission before he tucked himself into Jason’s side and wrapped his arm around his waist. He grinned up at him, chirping about how Jason shouldn’t hurt himself again.

He let himself be guided to an elevator, every part of him groaning. Whatever they had put him through had cleaned up the worst of the injuries but had left him with a stinging shadow of pain over his whole body. The bruises Bruce had delivered still ached all the way down to his bones, but his throat only mostly hurt now. He felt it surreptitiously and tried not to react at the sensitive new skin marred by a thick scar.

He had hoped with the quick healing and the magic machine of whatever that he wouldn't be left with another mark from another father. Even if the Pit had managed to heal most of Willis’ damage.

Most of it.

He leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator, crossing his arms to hide his shaking hands.

Little Jay stepped back, hands in the air like he was checking that Jason was actually stable, and then he slumped into Bucky, without a hint of fear. He rested his head on Bucky’s stomach, chin digging into the man’s muscle and melted a little when Bucky ran a hand through his messy curls.

Another point to him actually feeling safe.

“Bucky, I’m so tired,” he complained. “I’ll probably be so stupid in school tomorrow that they’ll make me drop down a grade.”

Bucky laughed quietly. “Jaybug, you’re not studying tomorrow morning, okay? You’re gonna sleep in and then I’ll make you and our new friend here some pancakes.”

“We have to get him new clothes too, Buck. He can’t just wear Steve’s clothes.”

Jason glanced down at the sweats and vest he was wearing. At least he knew whose clothes he was wearing now: Bucky’s apparent boyfriend.

“Course, pal,” Bucky agreed easily. “But we'll see how he's feeling first, okay?”

Jason wanted to laugh; he’d be long gone by morning. Little Jay might be as well.

“I guess,” Little Jay whined, sounding half asleep. “Bucky, I don’t want to miss school.”

“I know,” he said gently, carefully untangling curls, “but it’s been a long night and you need your sleep.”

“Whatever,” Little Jay huffed.

Bucky smiled. “I’m taking your laptop, Jaybug. You can’t sneak any school work in.”

“Booooring,” Little Jay said before closing his eyes and leaning more heavily on Bucky, oblivious to the fact that Jason was standing only a couple of feet away. “I deserve an education, Buck.”

Jason could be anyone. He could be dangerous, he was a stranger, in as much as they were the same person — but Little Jay felt safe anyway, which told him that either this Bucky was more dangerous than Jason had first anticipated, and Jason had thought he was very goddamn dangerous, or he truly did feel safe.

Or both.

It could definitely be both.

Little Jay put his arms up and Bucky picked him up easily. “Go to sleep, pal. I’ll put you to bed.”

“But I have to make me feel welcome,” he whined.

“Not you, kid,” Bucky said softly. “Whole different person, okay? And I’ll get Jason settled.” He guided Little Jay’s head onto his shoulder with his metal hand. “I’ve got you, pal. I’ve got both of you. Go to sleep.”

Little Jay nodded and let his eyes close. “Jason?”

He ignored how his eyes were prickling and his throat was tight. “Yeah?”

“You’ll be here in the morning, right?” he asked, voice already slurred with sleep. “You’re not going to leave?”

“Even if I don’t stay, I’ll find a way to come back and visit,” he said, ignoring Bucky’s eyes on him, and how the sentence made his throat feel rubbed raw. Being injured had never stopped him before, and it sure as hell wouldn't stop him now. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m like a ghost,” he said sardonically. “I’ll haunt you.”

Little Jay giggled. “Okay, I guess, but I think you should stay. It’s great here. You’ll like it.” He grinned, buried his face in Bucky’s shoulder, and seemed to drift off almost at once.

Jason had never, not once, felt safe enough to fall asleep like that. Maybe, maybe, during the six months between moving into the Manor and realizing Bruce wasn’t going to hurt him, and the months after when he realized that Bruce regretted ever taking him in.

Bucky glanced over at him. “You don’t have to leave. Not ever.”

Jason was almost certain that he didn’t mean it as a threat; he kept his face blank just in case it was meant to intimidate him.

“Look, at least stay until we figure out if we can send you back to your universe.”

“Nothing to go back to. Burned those bridges pretty goddamn spectacularly.” Jason shook his head and stopped the wince from showing at the sudden pain. “I can’t go back. Pretty sure this trip was a one way ticket.”

He thought of the woman: how power seemed to radiate off her, how it felt like something fundamental had changed when he had been thrown through that dark void. He wasn’t part of his universe anymore. It didn’t feel right, didn't feel like home.

“Just throw me a fifty. I'll head to Gotham. Become a crime lord,” he finished with a flare of humor. His voice was a car crash of noise. The spike of pain made him gasp in a shuddering breath which he covered by kicking his foot off the wall of the elevator. “How hard can it be?”

Bucky examined him, one arm holding Little Jay up and the other wrapped around his back. The kid was passed out on his shoulder, snoring slightly.

Before he could say anything, Jason said, “Seriously, how long does this elevator take?”

Bucky smiled. “Pretty sure Jarvis slowed it down so we could talk.”

“Jarvis?”

“Hello, sir.” A voice said from the ceiling. “I am pleased to meet you.”

Jason shot off the wall. “Oh, fuck no,” he growled. “Not another fucking British butler.”

“Pal,” Bucky said with some urgency. “You really need to rest your voice.”

Jason rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Fuck this bullshit.”

“I am not a butler, sir.” The British accent reminded him of Alfred. “I am an artificial intelligence system, tasked with running much of Sir’s business as well as security for the Tower and other Stark properties. I am part of the building rather than an actual person.”

Jason shook his head, frustrated and angry. He suddenly, desperately, wished he had seen Alfred just one more time. That he hadn’t put it off for some nebulous time in the future. He wanted to find out if his granddad still loved him. He probably didn't. How could he? Jason had threatened his son, and the golden boy, the real grandson.

Jason was just a hateful memory that should have stayed dead.

The elevator doors finally opened onto a corridor; it was as nice as the manor albeit much more modern. Luxury carpet enveloped his bare feet.

“Where's my gear?”

He had on baggy sweats and a loose vest. No armor. No weapons. None of the clothes he had arrived in. When he remembered that someone had changed him when he was unconscious, he ignored the uncomfortable flip in his stomach. He should be used to shit like that from the League.

“It was custom,” he said when Bucky didn't reply fast enough.

“I think Stark took it to study. He couldn’t identify some of the materials.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah because it’s custom.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” he said, leading Jason down a hallway. “You can’t have weapons where Jaybug might find them but we’ll get you a gun safe.”

Jason snorted; he would be long gone by the next day.

The hallway decor was very neutral, very inoffensive, and he followed Bucky while checking for cameras and listening devices. He couldn’t see any which just made him more sure they were there. No way the building with a fully functioning AI didn’t have top-notch security including hidden cameras and mics. There was a fire door at the end of the hallway; Jason could see an alarm but he was pretty sure he could disable it if he needed to.

“Can just give me that fifty now,” he said as Bucky opened the door to an apartment. “I’m not staying somewhere with constant surveillance.”

“He’s not in the apartment,” Little Jay said sleepily. “I don’t like him either.”

“No one comes into the apartment unless we allow them,” Bucky said, leading him into the apartment and opening the door of what was probably a bedroom. “I do a bug sweep every week and Nat does one when she’s home as well. The apartment is free from surveillance.” He kissed Little Jay's head when he nodded. “I’ll just put Jaybug down. You can have a look around if you want.”

They disappeared into the dark room. There was the creak of a bed and some mumbled words. The whisper of a sweet goodnight to Little Jay, and an even sweeter reply.

Jason had to walk away before his heart tore itself apart.

The apartment was big. There were four doors in the hallway off the front door, and then an open plan sitting room with a kitchen to the left and a huge balcony to the right. He opened a laptop that was resting on the kitchen counter. The screen lit up on an online school. The other tabs were half finished essays and class notes.

Little Jay was in school. Another point for Bucky.

There was food in the fridge and cupboards. No locks either. Some snacks Jason used to love too. Hoodies and books and markers and legos were scattered around the apartment with none of the fear of someone who was scared of being punished for making a mess.

One wall was covered in photos; no frames though, just glossy photos stuck onto the plaster. Little Jay was in most of the photos. A lot were of him and Bucky, always smiling or laughing, comfortable with each other even in the candids.

There were other adults too: a blonde man with a dog, another blonde man with his arm around Bucky, two women with different shades of red hair, and two men in a lab. Everyone seemed happy, comfortable. A picture of the whole group under a Happy 10th Birthday sign. Jason was on Bucky’s shoulders with a bright smile stretching across his lips.

Jason had never had a tenth birthday party. He had already been on the streets for over a year when he turned ten. He hadn’t even remembered on the day; he only realized a few weeks later that he'd missed his birthday.

Jason had to admit that this place didn’t reek of fear. Not like his old apartment had, like it had seeped into the walls and had stuck around even after his dad had left. And Little Jay seemed happy. Comfortable around Bucky. Safe even.

Overwhelmed, Jason spun around and stepped out onto the balcony, ignoring how the cold made his cheeks sting and his toes curl up on the tiles beneath him.

New York spread itself out below him, the famous skyline stretching out and up into the stars.

Somewhere out there was Gotham: Bruce, Alfred and Dick.

He thought maybe that this universe was chronologically behind his own. Tim Drake was probably still away at boarding school. Dick was probably still Robin. None of them even knew Jason existed, or that he was here. None of them cared about him. What would happen if he knocked on Bruce’s door and asked him to be his dad again? Asked him to kill the Joker? Asked for everything he had ever wanted from him?

I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need your teenage rebellion.

Bruce had proven who he was, over and over again, and it wasn’t someone who cared about Jason. He had shown it so many times.

He had cut Jason’s throat.

The sob caught him off guard, scraping up his throat like he had scrapped desperately at the lid of his coffin. He leaned his arms on the glass parapet and rested his forehead on them, letting the tears come. If only to ease the vice around his chest. Each shuddery breath made even more tears fall. He felt like he was unraveling.

Footsteps sounded behind him and he couldn't help how he tensed.

A warm, heavy hoodie was gently placed on his shoulders. He realized he was shivering, violently. The hood was pulled up, covering his head and sliding down over his face. Bucky stepped up beside him, close enough that the warmth of him was a balm on the empty spaces in his heart, but not so close to have his hackles rising.

He wiped his face dry viciously. Last thing he needed was to give Bucky anything to hold over him.

“Jaybug never wanted me to see him cry at first,” Bucky said softly. “Said Willis didn’t allow it.”

Jason shrugged, making sure to stand taller than Bucky. “Said men didn’t cry,” he managed through thick gasps. God, his throat hurt so bad. “He was such a fucking cliche.”

Bucky snorted. “Absolute bullshit, and I grew up in the twenties.”

Jason shoved his arms into the hoodie, pulled the sleeves over his hands and ignored whatever that meant. “Everything he said was bullshit.”

“Yeah, I’m learning that.”

“So, is he still wasting oxygen,” Jason said as callously as he could manage, “or has he finally accepted the sweet release of death?”

Bucky chuckled for some reason. “He’s in prison, but he’s alive.”

Jason hated that his heart ached for Willis as well. He had been the worst of Jason’s young life, and yet, he was suddenly desperate for any bit of familiarity.

“He got stabbed when I was thirteen,” he admitted. “Prison riot. Dunno how much Little Jay cares about him, but maybe try not to let that happen.”

After a moment of silence, Bucky said, “Your voice, buddy. You've got to rest it.”

Jason didn't understand the worry soaking the words. He didn't trust it either.

Bucky sighed, dragging Jason's attention back to him. “Willis pulled some shit last year. Burned a lot of bridges. But I’ll get Tony to have him moved anyway. Get him into a better prison. Just in case. What happened to your throat, Jason?”

“How long have you had him?” He asked, ignoring the question.

He was only here to make sure Little Jay was okay, and then he was leaving. He wasn’t here for heart to hearts, or fucking therapy.

“He can’t be much older than ten so you have to have gotten him soon after mom died.”

His throat was a raw nerve, burning. He didn't care. He refused to let it stop him from having this conversation.

“Catherine was my stepmom,” he said before Bucky could answer. “I dunno if that's what's true here but if a woman called Sheila Haywood ever turns up? Shoot her between the eyes before she even opens her fucking mouth.”

Bucky examined him. “Jay, kid, what happened to you?”

“Oh, well, pull up a chair, total stranger who I just met tonight, and let me tell you my life story.” He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. I’m not ever talking about it. It’s done.” His hands shook and he shoved them into the hoodie’s pockets. “How long have you had him?”

“Just over a year,” Bucky answered without pushing for more information. “He found me when I had just escaped a… Nazi death cult.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “I killed a Nazi robot dude a few weeks ago. Well, he might not have been a robot. Might have been a guy in a robot suit.” He laughed but it came out cracked and bitter. “Either way he’s dead.”

“Jesus,” Bucky said tiredly. “I wish…” he trailed off and shook his head. “They had me for a long, long time. When I finally escaped them, I ended up in Gotham. Jason was homeless and found me. Kept me. We saved each other, I guess.”

“I thought I had something like that once.” He turned, suddenly furious, and made himself as big as he could. He didn’t care how much training Bucky had. Jason knew how to fight as well. “If you fuck him over, I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

Bucky didn’t react; not angry, not scared, not threatened. Just the furrow in his eyebrows, and that calm expression. “I’m not easy to kill.”

“I’d figure it out,” Jason hissed, more annoyed by the lack of reaction. “Don’t you fucking worry.”

Bucky examined him for a long moment. “Yeah, you probably would, wouldn’t you?” He sighed, sounding exhausted. “What happened to you, Jason?”

“More than we have time to talk about now. The most recent,” he gestured at his throat and said sardonically, “my dad slit my throat.”

“Willis?”

He shook his head. “Adoptive dad.”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he stared at Jason. “That fucking…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I fucking knew he was fucking useless.”

Jason's heart pounded against his sternum. “Someone else sniffing around trying to adopt Little Jay?”

Bucky just shook his head. “No one I would ever let near my kid.” He reached out but stopped when he saw how it made Jason flinch back.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snapped, furious that he had shown any reaction.

Talia had long trained that out of him. Still though, it had been so long since he’d been touched with anything but the intent to hurt, and he already hurt so much that he didn’t think he could handle another hit. He didn’t know if he really remembered gentle touch anymore.

Bucky took a step back and tucked his hands into his own hoodie. Jason hated that it made him feel better, and he hated Bucky for doing it. He didn’t need anyone to treat him gently. It pissed him off that Bucky thought he did; it meant Jason was failing at showing how unaffected he was by the hurt seeping through his muscles. He was better than this.

He straightened up again, loosening his muscles and posture. “You finished asking your questions now? Or do you need to interrogate me some more? When does the pain start? That's the next step, right?”

“Jason—”

“You tried to be nice, gain my trust, and that’s clearly failed.” He grinned, mean and vicious. “I know what comes next.”

“Nobody in this building will ever hurt you. Not when I’m there to stop them.”

Jason laughed; he couldn’t help it. He choked when it made his throat seize. “Sure, I believe you.”

Bucky examined him with those cold blue eyes. “Bruce Wayne did this to you, didn't he?”

Jason fought to keep his expression blank. “If he tries to touch Little Jay, I’ll kill him.”

“No one is taking my kid, Jason. No one.”

Something dark sat in the words but Jason found it more comforting than anything else.

He suddenly wished he had Bucky's protection as well. That feeling was so repulsive, he pushed it away with instinctive disgust. He hadn’t spent a year and a half training to need someone else to protect him.

“I had a nine year old that helped me get over my touch aversion,” Bucky said out of nowhere. “Couldn’t really say no when he needed to be comforted, you know? He might want to hug you, lean against you, touch you. If he ever makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I'll have a chat with him.”

Jason nodded, guilt a heavy weight in his stomach. He didn’t want to disappear on Little Jay without a goodbye but he wasn’t staying here. Once he was set up, he could check in on him. Make sure he was okay.

“I’ll be fine.” His fingers found the scar on his throat again. “I am fine.”

Bucky raised his eyebrow again, and repeated, “Bruce Wayne slit your throat, didn’t he?”

Jason leaned against the glass surrounding the balcony. “My throat hurts,” he muttered, staring out at the lights of the buildings below him. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Okay,” Bucky agreed easily. “I don’t have any time for that man,” he said with a hint of a Russian accent in his voice that made him sound that much colder. “If he was your adoptive father, and he cut your throat, Jay, he’s lucky it was a different version of him or I’d be over there right now with a sniper rifle.”

A small smile dragged up the corners of Jason’s lips. He could sort of understand why Little Jay trusted Bucky so much. He didn't believe it — Bruce had already proven that Jason wasn't important enough to kill for — but it was a nice sentiment.

Still.

“I can look after myself, you know,” he insisted.

“Yeah but you don’t have to.”

“I always have to.” He couldn’t stop his lip from wobbling and he was glad his face was hidden in his hood. “I have no one else.”

“You might not believe me, pal, but you have me now, and you have Jaybug.”

Jason saw Bucky raise his hand in his peripherals and watched as he very carefully placed it on Jason’s shoulder. It was his human hand; warm and comforting. Tension leaked out of his muscles, and his lip trembled violently. He bit down on it, hard.

“You don’t have to trust me,” Bucky continued, voice as soft as the hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Hell, you don’t even have to believe me. I can just keep showing up until you do.”

Jason blinked his eyes repeatedly. “Like you did with Little Jay?”

He wanted to believe he was asking because he was still making sure that Little Jay was safe, but really he was just suddenly desperate for something from Bucky. He didn’t know what that was, and he definitely didn’t want to examine the feeling any closer, but he wanted something.

And he wanted to leave.

This whole place was suddenly suffocating.

“Like I did with Little Jay.” Bucky laughed suddenly; it made him sound younger. “He’s going to hate that nickname.”

“Yeah,” he replied with a distracted huff of amusement. His brain was running away from him; planning exits and trying to figure out how he could find weapons and money. He didn’t know New York particularly well but a city was a city. “I’m tired.”

Bucky nodded, finally taking his hand off Jason’s shoulder. “C’mon, kid. I’ll show you where to sleep.”

“I’m not a kid,” Jason said, following him and pretending that he didn’t miss the warmth of Bucky’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’m over a hundred years old. You’re all kids to me.”

He led Jason through the apartment and down the hallway, opening the last door on the left and gesturing in, like he hadn’t just dropped that bombshell.

He didn’t look any older than thirty.

“This is your room. I changed the sheets after I put Jaybug down. I put some towels and toiletries on the bathroom counter. Some sweats and hoodies in the dresser. If you need anything, I’m in the bedroom just past Jay’s, right by the front door. Anyone comes in, I’ll deal with it. Not that they will.”

“I can fight. I can protect myself.”

“But you don’t have to anymore.”

Jason’s heart thumped thumped thumped. “There’s always a fight.”

“Not anymore. Not for us.” Bucky stepped out of the room, hand on the door. “Go to sleep, kid. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jason nodded and went into his room, already planning his escape. He ignored the twinge of guilt he felt at the idea that Little Jay would find an empty bed in the morning.

He pushed it away.

There was no way he was staying here.

Chapter Text

Jason waited on the bed until he was sure Bucky was asleep.

Once the quiet of sleep settled down onto the apartment, he snuck out of his bedroom. He only had on the sweats and tshirt that he had woken up in, the hoodie Bucky had given him, and a pair of socks he had found in one of the drawers, but he stole a brown leather jacket off the back of the couch. He found a pair of boots by the door that just about fit. A wallet in the jacket gave him a hundred dollars; he left the rest. He didn’t need the bank cards of James Bennet making him easy to track.

The money was more than enough to get to Gotham.

He left the apartment on silent feet and ignored the elevator. He couldn’t trust the AI. Not when it had already shown it was in charge of the elevators. The alarm on the fire door was as easily disabled as he had thought and he was racing down the stairs seconds later.

“Mr Todd, I’m afraid you cannot use this exit unless there is an emergency,” Jarvis said as he ran down the stairs. “I have alerted Sir to your escape attempt.”

With that bit of information, Jason climbed over the guardrail and jumped down three floors before catching himself on the metal. It jarred his injuries but he didn’t care. He did it over and over again until he landed on the concrete ground in less than a minute. He could hear noise above him; the clanging of metal, the whoosh of something flying, and a sarcastic voice giving orders to Jarvis.

He didn’t bother disarming the alarm on the exit; he was clearly out of time. He slammed through the door and ran. He could hear the noise of something that sounded weirdly like propulsors behind him, not that that made any sense. He desperately wished he had a grapple.

He avoided the street cameras, too used to looking out for them in Gotham and beyond, and used the shadows as cover as he slipped away from the Tower and found a bar full of night time crowds and loud music. He slipped into it and casually made his way through the patrons. Rock music pounded at his already hurting head. He didn’t push or rush through the space. He even stole a bottle of beer so he fit right in as he glanced around pretending to be looking for his friends.

Once he reached the darkened hallways leading to the bathrooms with another conveniently placed fire door, he stopped. He caught his breath and took long drags of the warm beer, grimacing at the taste. He hurt worse than before but he could stop. He wasn’t safe yet. He waited ten minutes, counting the time in his head, before he disabled the alarm and set off down the dark alleyway.

He didn’t know these alleys but they still reminded him of Gotham.

Same rubbish. Same smells. Same rats.

He kept moving, refusing to stop until he knew that he had lost any tails. He didn’t know the heroes of this world and he couldn’t risk them finding him. They would definitely lock him up this time.

They had tried to get him to stay with kindness. The next step was always pain. It might have sounded like he was joking when he said it to Bucky — or not joking as much as looking for a reaction — but he knew the truth.

Pain always came next.

It was almost dawn when he finally deemed himself safe.

He had kept himself moving; jumping from bars to alleys to busy streets. The hoodie had a hood that was deep enough to hide his face and he had turned the jacket inside out so that the dark lining was out instead of the distinctive brown. He was skilled enough to avoid the cameras, to disappear into the shadows, and even though he saw what he thought was a robot flying over the city for hours, it hadn’t spotted him.

It was only once he stopped that he allowed himself to acknowledge how stiff he was and how sore from the constant movement.

He found a building that had a fire escape, jumped up on top of a dumpster and then onto the ladder. He made his way up onto the roof — being up high had always meant safety — and settled under the vent of a heating unit, making sure he was covered by shadows.

He stared out at the buildings towering around him and tried to figure out what to do next.

He had no interest in going back to his universe but he also didn’t have the energy to start a new life.

Not again.

Exhaustion made him ache down deep in his muscles. Everything from the last few hours — days, weeks, years — was catching up with him. He wiped his eyes, frustrated. He didn’t deserve to cry. He was the idiot that thought someone would actually choose him, but of course, Bruce had chosen the Joker.

“Fucking idiot,” he muttered, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city. He closed his eyes and banged his head against the metal behind him. “Fucking stupid asshole.”

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood up.

He climbed to his feet slowly, checking the surroundings. He heard the quiet movement of someone swinging through the air, the fragile susurration of air that only a former Robin would be aware of. The vigilante landed in front of him on near silent feet. The white eyes of his mask found Jason even in the shadows. His costume was red and blue with a spider across the front. He was slim but something about how he moved made Jason think he was powerful. A meta, probably.

“Hey, kid,” he said, watching Jason cautiously.

Jason snorted; he’d gotten real good at reading body language through a face mask and this person wasn’t much older than Jason. “If I’m a kid, what are you? A slightly older one?”

He laughed. “Something like that. What are you doing up here?”

Jason shrugged and stepped out of the shadows. He kept his stance loose, balancing on the balls of his feet. “Considering my next move.”

The boy tilted his head. “Can I help? What do you need?”

“From you?” He laughed bitterly. “Nothing. You can go, or we can fight.”

“I don’t want to fight you.”

He laughed again. Just as bitter as the first time. “Then you’re in the wrong business, princess. Because all you’re gonna get here is violence.”

“We could talk. I’m Spiderman.” He bounced on his feet, hands fluttering around like he wasn’t sure what to say. “Okay, look. I’m not going to fight you. You haven't done anything. I literally just landed here to check on you, and okay, my senses are going a little bit haywire just looking at you, but I’m pretty sure that’s because you seem like you’re getting ready to fight me? And the thing is you won’t win that fight.”

Jason laughed for a third time, and attacked.

He had fought metas before. Even though it would have been easier if he had seen this one in action, he hadn’t trained as long or as hard as he had to not be able to adapt. He punched and the guy moved abnormally fast like he had known where Jason was planning on hitting.

“You have no skill,” Jason sneered as he adjusted his style: feigning, faking, fighting. “No technique. Just fucking strength and speed.”

Once he figured out the way the kid’s senses seemed to work, the fight was almost fun. The boy was obviously trying not to hurt him even though Jason was making no such concessions.

“Is that spandex?” The pain that was starting to get hard to ignore; taunts were all he had left. He was winning but he knew that he was only managing to hold his own because Spiderman was letting him. Jason had seen the speed of him, felt the strength. “Where’s the goddamn armor? You don’t even have any weapons.” He ducked, felt the shift of his hair as a punch went over his head and kicked out viciously. “Seriously, how the hell do you protect yourself?”

“You talk more than me,” Spiderman finally said, leaving his left side open.

Jason kicked him in the side, and then tackled him before he got his balance back. He pinned Spiderman’s legs under his feet, and his arms under his hands. Knowing Spiderman could flip him at any time took all the fun out of the victory. He rolled off him and crouched down on the balls of his feet, watching as Spiderman sat up and rested his arms on his knees.

Neither of them spoke for a long minute.

“Your costume is stupid,” Jason finally said. He looked even worse than Dick had as Discowing. “And you need to stop telegraphing your punches. How old are you even?”

“Old enough.” Spiderman responded with no small amount of snark. He scrubbed the back of his head. “What are you doing up here?”

“Well, I’m not going to throw myself off,” Jason said with a snort. “At least not without a grapple.”

“A grapple?”

“Jesus,” he muttered and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.” He studied the costume again. “The criminals can see you coming. Coulda at least gone a little darker.”

Spiderman fell back on the roof with a groan. “Is this just going to be a critique of my costume? I did come up here to check on you, you know? I was being nice.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason said with a shrug. “I don’t feel like talking about myself to a stranger in a highlighter costume. Instead, how about we figure out how to keep you alive for a little bit longer. Being dead is shitty.”

“Yeah,” he replied, still staring at the sky. “Being left behind isn’t much fun either.” He sat back up and coughed as if that would clear the heavy grief in the air. “Do you have someone you can call?”

“He doesn’t need to call anyone,” Bucky said quietly, making them both jump to their feet, fists up. “I’m already here.”

Jason didn’t drop his ready stance. “What are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone, kid.” He walked over slowly, hood up and arm covered. “I was always going to come find you. You just move faster than even Stark can track and you’re really good at avoiding cameras.” He stopped beside Jason and lowered himself to the ground. “Sit with me for a second?”

Jason finally dropped his fists, and sat down, out of Bucky’s reach. “This guy thinks this,” he gestured at all of Spiderman, “is appropriate armor. Can you believe this shit?”

Bucky smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You scared me, pal.”

“Yeah, well, what was I meant to do?”

“Stay,” Bucky said easily. “Give me and Little Jay a chance.”

“So, what?” Jason sneered. “We could all play happy family? You don’t even know me. I’m not him. I’m me.”

“I know you’re not,” Bucky swore. “Jason, I know you’re two different people. I know that.”

“You don’t fucking want me. No one does. Trust me on that.”

“I promise we do.”

“That’s some grade A bullshit,” he muttered, refusing to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I feel like this is way above my paygrade, like way above it, but I still gotta ask, are you okay with him?” Spiderman was standing now, closer to Jason than to Bucky. Like he was willing to throw himself between the two of them at the slightest provocation. “I can get you away.”

“Jesus. The fucking two of you. I can look after myself,” Jason snapped. “I can protect myself. I have always protected myself. I don’t need Mr. Metal Arm and Teenage Ninja American flag to keep me safe.”

Spiderman squawked. “It’s not an American flag.”

Bucky sighed but it didn’t sound annoyed like how Bruce’s used to. It sounded sad. “Just give us a week. For Little Jay. He’ll be devastated if he wakes up with you gone. And a week will give you a chance to make sure that he’s safe with me too. ”

Jason scoffed. “Why do you think I care about whether he’s safe?”

Bucky just looked at him.

Jason raised an eyebrow at him.

“I heard you,” he said quietly. “Checking things out in the apartment; the laptop, the photo walls, the mess. It took Jaybug months to get comfortable enough to leave his things lying around. I know you noticed.”

“Fuck you.” For the first time, he noticed that Bucky was just slightly out of breath. A sheen of sweat made his forehead shine in the early morning light. “Did you run here?”

“I didn’t want to risk losing you again.”

“Why?” He had to fight to keep the confusion and frustration from the word.

“I just wanted a chance to talk.” Bucky fixed the hood on his head. “Stay a week. Make sure Jaybug is safe. Heal a little bit. I’ll give you money to set yourself up afterwards.”

“So, you’re bribing me to stay with you?”

Bucky laughed. “No, pal. There’s just no way I’m letting you out in the world without enough supplies to survive. Never going to happen.”

Jason scoffed. “You wouldn’t even give me a fifty earlier.”

“Because Gotham is a terrible idea.”

Spiderman bounced on his feet. “Gotham is a horror show. You definitely don’t want to go there. They have a vigilante dressed like a bat, or they have an urban legend about a man dressed like a bat. Who knows if it’s even true?”

Jason hid his flinch by scrubbing the back of his head. “I was going to avoid him.”

“No one avoids Batman,” Spiderman said. “Seriously, have you heard the stories?”

“The stories?” Jason laughed. “I can almost guarantee he’s just some righteous asshole with a stick so far up his ass it’s interfering with his ability to think. He’s probably still sulking in his damp underground cave with his butler still cooking for him and washing his dirty boxers.”

Bucky laughed quietly as Spiderman fell back pretending he was wounded. An almost comfortable silence settled over the three of them.

“You’ll stay?” Bucky said, finally breaking the calm.

“Fine, yes, whatever. Someone has to look out for Little Jay.” He stood up and pulled the leather jacket around him. “You can go,” he said to Spiderman. “I’m fine.”

Spiderman stared at him for a second and then nodded. “Okay. If you need me, just like shout or something. Twitter, maybe. Sometimes I check the hashtag.”

Jason groaned. “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long. I have so much to teach you, princess.”

Spiderman laughed. “Sure. Some other time.” He walked over to the edge of the building. “See you around.” He jumped and disappeared over the side.

Jason heard the same twack that he had when the vigilante had arrived but hadn’t been able to identify. He recognised the disruption of a body moving through the air drilled into him from years at Batman’s side.

Dawn was breaking the horizon, and the sunlight reflected off the windows of the buildings, making them glow red and pink and umber. The muscles he had warmed up in the fight had cooled back down, and everything hurt now. He just wanted to climb into bed somewhere safe and not move for a few days.

Except he didn’t have anywhere safe.

He fisted his hands in the pockets of the jacket and refused to meet Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky finally broke the silence. “Wanna head back?”

“Might as well,” he said, not bothering to keep the pain or exhaustion from his voice for the first time. “No where else to go, and you’re right.” He finally looked at Bucky. “I need to make sure that you’re not an asshole. Make sure that Little Jay is safe.”

“Whatever gets you back to the apartment,” he said easily. He let Jason lead the way, following behind him with his hands tucked into his pockets and his face serene as ever.

Jason woke with a jolt, feeling eyes on him.

He flung himself up, searching for his knives as he looked for whoever was attacking him. He didn’t recognise the room. He didn’t know where he was. Someone shuffled by the door. Jason whirled around, groaning at the pain that shot through what felt like every inch of him.

Little Jay stood in the doorway, hands up and a grimace on his face. “Sorry.”

Everything flooded back: Bruce, the woman, Bucky, Little Jay, Spiderman.

He took a shuddering breath and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

At least the kid was across the room instead of right beside him. Jason might have lashed out in his half awake state and hurt him. He really didn’t want to hurt him.

He had never hurt a kid, and he didn’t want to start with a tiny version of himself.

“It’s fine,” he muttered again as the adrenaline faded. He ignored how his eyes prickled and stung. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. “I’m fine.”

He dropped back down onto the bed. The mattress beneath him was soft against his aching body but the bright sunlight made his head pound. He should have closed the curtains before he crashed into sleep. He shifted to find a comfortable position. Fuck, everything hurt.

“How you doing, little man?” he asked as Little Jay watched him intently.

“I’m okay,” Little Jay said, waving like a tiny dork. “Bucky said to leave you to sleep so I just waited until you woke up. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you okay?”

Jason rolled over onto his stomach and groaned into his pillow. “Like I said, I am fine. Peachy. Dandy. Flourishing. Incredible.”

Little Jay giggled and took a step forward. “Bucky’s making his special pancakes. They always make me feel better. Maybe they’ll make you feel better too.” He shuffled even closer. “The others want to meet you. Probably just Steve at first. He’s Buck’s boyfriend. He pretends he’s not because he thinks I’m too young to know. Like I didn’t grow up in the alley.” He rolled his eyes, grinning. “Are you sure you're okay?” he asked again.

“I’m in an alternate dimension with a younger version of myself. Who is talking to me. Waking me for breakfast. Letting me sleep in his spare bedroom.” Jason stared out at him, face still half buried in his pillow. “Everyone I’ve ever known is inaccessible to me. Oh, and they hate me, but yeah, like I said peachy.”

“I don't hate you,” Little Jay said sincerely, finally walking across the room and climbing up onto the bed. He settled himself against the headboard. “Screw those other guys. They don't deserve you.” He leaned sideways, hips resting against Jason’s head.

Little Jay was so warm, and no one had been that close to Jason in months.

Except when they were hurting him.

He wanted to wrap himself around the small body beside him, hide his face in Little Jay’s stomach, and smell the lavender scent that he could already get a hint of. Shampoo or detergent, maybe. Just like his mom used when they could afford it. The other part of him wanted to get as far away from this tiny boy as possible so that he could never ever hurt him. He pressed further into the pillow and clenched his fists in the soft sheets.

Exhaustion hit him in a wave; his eyes watered again.

Little Jay reached out and started to run his fingers through Jason’s curls, untangling them slowly. His fingers were clumsy, pulling the strands in sharp bursts of pain, but Jason didn’t move, trying not to react. It was so much more comforting than he was willing to admit.

“Mom used to do this for me. Bucky does it now too,” Little Jay whispered like he had picked up on Jason’s plummeting mood. Something he probably learned from taking care of his mom. “It helps, right?”

Jason nodded, softly enough that he didn’t knock Little Jay’s hand free. “My mom used to do it too. It always helped.”

He closed his eyes, feeling damp gather on his eyelashes. When he opened his eyes again, Little Jay grinned.

“Thanks,” Jason said, sitting up and dislodging the hand. “It helped.”

“I can do it anytime you want. Promise.”

Jason settled against the headboard with what he hoped was a soft smile. “I appreciate that. You’re a good kid.”

Little Jay beamed.

Jason heard footsteps coming down the hallway, loud enough that it had to be on purpose. He had a feeling that Bucky wouldn’t make any noise if he didn’t want to. Even last night, carrying Little Jay, he had been silent. Bucky appeared in the doorway and knocked on the door jamb even as they both turned their heads to stare at him.

“Jaybug, c’mon and eat your breakfast,” Bucky said, voice quiet but sure. “I want to talk to Jason.”

“Alright, Buck.” Little Jay patted Jason’s hand and climbed off the bed. “Don’t worry,” he said to Jason. “Bucky is a big teddy bear. Right, Buck?” He leaned into Bucky’s stomach as he stepped up to him.

Bucky bent down and kissed Little Jay’s forehead, grinning fondly. “Sure am. Now, go eat. Steve will be over in a bit and you don’t want him stealing all the chocolate ones.”

Little Jay’s eyes widened. “He can’t! He knows the plain ones are for him.”

“At some point,” Bucky said, amused and fond, “you’re going to have to give him chocolate ones.”

“Once he earns them,” Little Jay said with a grin that Jason recognised from photos of himself. “I better go hide mine and Jason’s so he doesn’t eat them.”

Bucky laughed. “You do that, bud.”

“Don’t worry, Jason,” Little Jay said, turning around with a serious expression. “I’ll save you at least five.”

“Thanks,” he said with a bright smile. “I’ll eat them all.” He ignored Bucky’s eyes on him. “Make sure to eat enough for yourself first.”

“There’s always enough to eat here,” Little Jay said happily. “I eat any time I want.”

Another point in Bucky's favor.

Jason glanced over at him, irritated that all he had on was the soft undershirt he'd slept in and some boxers. Irritated that the lack of armor made his skin tingle like a thousand ants were crawling over them. He still didn’t have his weapons —no guns, no knives, nothing to protect himself with.

Bucky didn’t step any closer to him. Instead, he leaned against the door jamb again, body relaxing as he crossed his arms. He was wearing soft looking black pajama bottoms and a black undershirt. The mental arm had a red star on the bicep.

Scars ran across his shoulder and chest from where it had been brutally attached. He had his legs crossed at the ankle. His feet were bare. There was no tension in his body, no sign he was about to hurt Jason.

Jason didn’t quite relax, not with someone that was so clearly trained in front of him — he knew exactly how fast someone that skilled could react; Slade Wilson had taught him that lesson, again and again — but he did try harder to hide the tension wrapping itself around him.

Bucky let Jason finish his assessment, without a hint of impatience or annoyance, before he asked, “How did you sleep?”

Sleep hadn’t come easy, but it had come, up until Little Jay had woken him, or attempted to not wake him, as the case may be. Like eyes on him wouldn’t ever not wake him up. He’d been taught that lesson over and over again, too. By so many of his trainers.

He shrugged in response.

“Okay,” Bucky replied as easily as if he had given a full answer. “The others know that you’re here. They know who you are.” He scrubbed a hand though his sleep mussed hair. “Nat and Clint don't. They're away on a mission. Everyone else though. I couldn’t stop Tony from telling them. I’m sorry.”

He seemed like he meant it but Jason had long stopped trusting anyone that sounded sincere. He nodded in case Bucky expected a response.

“Steve will be up in a bit to meet you but I can put off the others for as long as you want. Steve, though.” He sounded frustrated, but fond. “He’s insistent.”

Jason nodded again, trying to stop fidgeting with the duvet cover.

“Okay, kid.” He sighed gently and uncrossed his arms. “You want to eat in here, or do you want to come out to the kitchen?”

Jason stared down at his hands. There was blood caught underneath his nails. The skin around his knuckles was broken and starting to scab. Bruises littered his skin. Probably his face too. Bucky said they had put him through that magic healing machine to fix his throat, but it was no Lazarus Pit. It hadn’t fixed everything.

He swallowed. “I need clean clothes. I sweated in the other ones leading you on a merry chase around the city. Seems like you need some better training.”

Bucky laughed. “I’ve done enough training to last a lifetime. Tony insisted he could find you quicker than I would on foot, but he relies too much on technology. He’s never learned to track without it, or to fight for that matter.”

“This fucking universe.” He rolled his eyes. “I want my armor and weapons back.”

“I’m working on it. Tony is a little bit obsessed.” He shrugged and pointed at a drawer. “I left you a few pairs of sweats in there and some tops. Hopefully they’ll fit you.”

Jason hated how his stomach was churning. “I guess I should come to the kitchen. Keep an eye on you. Make sure Little Jay is safe.” He glanced up to catch a smile skirting across the edges of Bucky’s lips.

“Can’t let Jaybug down either.”

“Probably not,” he said carefully. “I’m going to shower first.” He couldn’t quite manage to get his voice above a whisper with the pain digging its fingernails into the muscles but he refused to sound cowed. “I smell like gunpowder and burning.”

It felt like all the confidence — all the anger, the righteous rage, the burning certainty — had disappeared as soon as Bruce’s blade had touched his skin. All that was left was some sort of trembling structure inside him that might collapse at any moment.

Jason fought to make sure that none of that showed.

Bucky’s whole expression softened; he could clearly see through Jason like he was a freshly cleaned window. “You can have anything you want, kid.”

Jason blinked away the stinging in his eyes and smirked. “Except fifty dollars and a bus ticket to Gotham?”

“You don’t want to go to Gotham. Batman is an asshole in any universe.”

A small smile lifted the corner of lips before he could stop it. “Yeah.”

“I’ll have pancakes waiting for you.” He took a step back and glanced down the hallway. “One plate at a time, Jaybug. Both hands.”

“Sure, Buck,” he called back, unworried. Even a bit amused.

Jason didn't understand it.

“Coffee?” Bucky asked, turning back to Jason.

“Do you have…” He trailed off, changing his mind almost instantly about making requests. Just until he knew for sure he wouldn’t be punished for it. Like in the League. Like when he stayed with Slade. Like Bruce when Jason asked him to kill the Joker and he cut Jason’s throat instead. He shook his head. “Coffee is fine.”

“It’s okay to ask for things, Jay. If I can get them for you, I will.”

“I said coffee was fine,” he snapped.

“Whatever you want.” Bucky gave him a searching look and smiled softly. “Shower is through there. Towels under the sink. As much hot water as you can use. Clean clothes in the drawers. We’ll just be in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Jason muttered, finally relaxing once Bucky left the room and shut the door behind him.

Jason walked silently down the hallway on bare feet.

The clothes Bucky had given him were soft. The long sleeved top hung off Jason’s frame of lithe muscles and compact power. The trousers were a little too short. He had folded them up just below his knees because they were irritating when they swung around his ankles.

The shower had been better than anything he had had since before he had crawled out of the grave. Bucky had been right about the never-ending hot water. Jason had absolutely tested that with how long he had spent in it washing blood and ash from his hair and off his skin.

“Bucky?”

Jason froze at the sound of Little Jay’s voice. The sounds of the kitchen — the clatter of plates, the rush of water, and the sizzle of a hot pan — seemed to fade away.

“Yeah, pal,” Bucky responded, sounding so goddamn fond it made Jason want to turn back around and hide back under the covers. “What do you need?”

Cutlery scraped across a plate. “Is Jason okay?”

Bucky was silent for a long minute. The water was turned off. The pan stopped sizzling.

“I think he’s been through a lot, Jaybug.” He heard the crack of Bucky’s knees like he had crouched down to Little Jay’s level. “I think he needs us to be patient with him and kind to him. Maybe give him his space when he needs it, okay, bud? I know you’re excited but I think Jason is a little like me when we first met. We have to be gentle with him.”

Jason’s ears burned. A lump in his throat choked him. He hated this. He fucking hated being seen. Fuck Bucky for seeing through every wall he put up.

“I was gentle, Buck,” Little Jay said with conviction. “I was super gentle.”

Before Bucky could reply, the front door slammed open. Jason jumped and spun around, adrenaline speeding through his veins.

“Buck? Jay? Jason? I brought pastries.” A tall, blonde man strode around the corner. He was huge; bigger than even Bruce. Practically as big as superman. He froze when he saw Jason. “Hey,” he said, smiling softly. “You look…” he scrubbed the back of his head. “You look just like Jason.”

“I am Jason,” he snapped. “Who else would I be?” He couldn’t help how he fell into a ready stance. More instinct. “Who the hell are you?”

The man had threat written across his body even as he tried to make himself look unassuming. It wasn’t working; this man was a fighter, was dangerous. He reminded Jason of Deathstroke. He took a step forward, and Jason swung. The man reacted quickly, grabbing Jason’s wrist in an unbreakable hold. He caught the second fist swinging for his gut.

“Hey,” the man said with an authoritative tone that grated against Jason’s already taut nerves. “Stop.”

Jason spat at him, fighting to break free. He slammed his foot into the man’s knee and jerked back hard enough that the man either had to let him go or break his wrists.

He chose to let Jason go.

Jason stumbled back with the sudden freedom and banged into another body. Arms rose up to grab him, hurt him, make him learn his goddamn lesson.

He couldn't think, couldn’t assess, logic arguing with animal fear destroying his muscle memory and reflexes, his training. He scuttled to the side, out of reach of both the arms and the man. When he searched for his knives or his guns, anything to defend himself with, he found himself weaponless.

There was nothing. He had nothing.

He couldn’t help the scared whimper that escaped his mouth.

He froze when he realized what he had done. He couldn’t remember who he was with, didn’t know where the pain was going to come from.

Bruce would punish him with silence and harsher training sessions. Slade would beat him for showing such weakness, for showing any weakness. Talia would be furious; she hated when he revealed his fear. She was the worst of all of them because she pretended that she cared, pretended that her soft touch wasn’t a punishment in itself.

He didn’t want to remember that. He didn’t want to think about Talia. Not now. Not ever.

He hit a hard surface, sliding down it, and curling into himself.

“Steve,” someone said in a tone that was meant to be obeyed. “Get out.”

“Buck.”

“Out, Steve. Now.”

He didn't recognize the voices. Just knew one of them was firm but not angry. He didn’t know where he was. Just felt the hard wall behind him and the cold floor beneath him. He cowered into himself, waiting for the first lash to fall. He was trying to pull himself together, trying to be unflinching, but he was too far gone, and he couldn’t catch his breath.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Hey, Jay” the firm voice said. “I’m gonna touch you, okay? I’m gonna take your hand.”

Jason whined as a soft hand wrapped around his fingers. His arm was slowly pulled away from his body, and was pressed against something warm. It moved up and down in exaggerated movements.

“Breath with me, kid. Slow and steady.”

Jason wanted to tell him he was trying, wanted to snap it, but he still couldn’t catch his breath. He managed a wheezing gasp which helped the tunnel vision a little.

The chest, Bucky’s chest, he realized, kept moving slowly. He tried to follow it. Slowly, so slowly, he managed to take more and more air in until he was breathing normally. Tears wet his cheeks and made the world a blurry multicolored mess. He wiped his eyes, pulling his hand free from Bucky’s. He ignored how cold it instantly felt.

“Jason?” Bucky said gently.

He shook his head, not able to speak yet, too furious at himself. He hadn’t had a reaction like that since the early days of the League when the pit was still burning through him.

“Are you okay?” Little Jay asked quietly. He crouched down in front of Jason but didn’t touch him. “Steve left. Bucky made him. We won’t let him back in the apartment.”

“He’s,” Jason whispered, voice a hoarse croak. “Bucky’s boyfriend.”

“So?” Little Jay asked. “You’re more important than a stupid boyfriend. Right, Bucky?”

“Right,” Bucky said firmly. Like he hadn’t just met Jason, and Steve wasn’t his goddamn partner. “You’re more important, Jason.”

He shook his head. “I’m fucking not. Trust me.” He swallowed, trying to wet his throat. “I’m not him.” He gestured at Little Jay. “I’m not.”

“I know exactly who you are, Jason,” Bucky replied fiercely. “And you are worth that and more.”

“I’m fucking not,” he snapped back. “You don’t know me.”

“Can I?” Little Jay asked, interrupting the argument with his hand reaching out.

When Jason nodded, Little Jay ran his fingers through his curls. He was as clumsy as before, fingers getting caught and tugging in places, but Jason couldn’t help but lean into it. Tears stung his eyes again. He felt empty. It had been so, so long since it had been touched with any real kindness. Definitely not twice in one day.

Little Jay stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jason’s head. “It’s okay,” he said with childlike confidence. “Bucky will look after you. I promise. He’ll keep us safe.”

Jason shook his head again.

He hadn't been safe in so long. He didn't even remember what it felt like.

Little Jay stepped back as Bucky stood up. Bucky gripped Jason's forearm and pulled him up gently. He held onto Jason's biceps until he had found his balance again. Once he had, Bucky stepped back with a smile.

“C'mon,” he said softly. “We'll have breakfast and then go shopping if you're up for it. Might be good to get you some fresh air. And you need some of your own clothes. Mine clearly don't fit.”

Little Jay giggled. “He's taller than you, Buck. That means one day I'll be taller than you. You're gonna be the shortest one in the family.”

Bucky growled and picked Little Jay up, tossing him over his shoulder with a wink at Jason. Little Jay giggled as Bucky stomped down the hallway, grumbling and growling, tickling Little Jay’s ribs until he was practically crying with laughter.

Jason fought against the smile that tried to tilt up the edges of his lips. He wiped his eyes, ignoring how his hands still shook and followed them into the kitchen.

He also ignored the casual insinuation that he was part of their family. He was here for a week: heal, check Little Jay was safe, and get himself some money to make setting himself up a bit easier. He had finally learned his lesson about families, and he knew now that he would never be part of one.

He didn't get that type of love.

Chapter Text

“Okay, kid,” Bucky said as he gestured across the mostly-empty department store that Little Jay had insisted on going to ‘because it’s cheap but it still has new clothes.’ “Whatever you want. We’ve got the money so don’t worry about that.”

Jason glanced around the store; it wasn’t nearly as fancy as the place Alfred had brought him that first week in the manor, but it still felt overwhelming to be back in this position again. No money. No clothes. No option but to take the charity that was being offered.

And he knew charity was okay. He had been on the other side of it in his time as Hood, and he’d been happy to help anyone who needed it… but he had never thought that he would be back in this position. He had done so much to escape it, to make sure he would never end up helpless again, and yet, here he was.

He didn’t want to be here, his body hurt and his throat ached, but he hadn’t wanted to say no to Little Jay. Not when he seemed so goddamn excited about buying Jason some new clothes. Especially because he was pretty sure the kid thought this was the first time Jason was getting new clothes.

He also wanted to see how Bucky acted outside the Tower; if he let Little Jay choose what he wanted, if he got pissed off or scruffed him when he got excited, if he cared about how other people looked at them in public.

He hated to even think about it but he also hadn’t felt sure about saying no to Bucky. He didn’t want to find out how the man would react. He only had to last a week and then he was free to leave with supplies and the knowledge that Little Jay was safe. No point in causing any problems.

He’d kept his eyes out but so far hadn’t seen any bruises on Little Jay. No flinching away. No fear. So hopefully if he did piss Bucky off, he would keep his rage focused on Jason. He could cope with that if it meant Little Jay kept his safe place.

Little Jay wrapped his fingers around Jason’s, dragging him out of his darkening thoughts.

“They have these cool hoodies,” he said excitedly, “that have fleece on the inside so even in the coldest of cold you can still be warm. It’s awesome. I have three.”

A smile tugged at Jason’s lips. “Yeah? I guess I should get one of them.”

“Two,” Little Jay insisted.

Jason laughed. “Three.”

He nodded seriously. “Just in case.”

“There’s no just in case, buddy,” Bucky said as he grabbed a basket. “Nothing is ever going to happen to you two that I won’t fix.”

“Buck,” Little Jay whined, pink staining his cheeks. “You can’t just say that. Out loud. In public.”

Bucky laughed without turning around as he led them to the men’s section. “You need at least three pairs of jeans, some sweats, pajamas, t-shirts, button ups, underwear, socks. A whole wardrobe.”

“I don’t need that.” Panic made Jason’s heart pound in his chest. Little Jay still had their fingers linked together. It was the only thing keeping Jason from bolting. “I don’t need you to buy me shi—” He glanced down at Little Jay. “Stuff. I’m only here for a few days.”

“Unless you stay,” Little Jay said cheerfully, which was an improvement on the almost tantrum he had thrown when Bucky had explained the situation to him earlier. “You could do that too.”

“I’ll visit,” Jason said with a small smile, and then when Bucky put a pack of basic underwear into the basket, he snapped, “I can get by without.”

“Course you can,” Bucky agreed without turning around. “Doesn’t mean you have to.”

Jason shook his head but he couldn’t talk. Bucky’s words reminded him too much of being twelve again and having Bruce promise to look after him, buy him things and never let him go wanting. And then Bruce had taken it all back and left Jason more exposed than ever before.

Little Jay’s hand squeezed his fingers. “C’mon, Jason. Let’s go find you a red hoodie. You can match me.”

“Red sounds good,” he lied, trying not to think of his helmet and the slash of a red bat across his chest and the blood staining his hands. Red might have been his favorite color once but now it burned like the red of the fire in the explosion where Bruce chose the Joker.

Still, he let the kid pull him further into the clothes section without further complaint.

Bucky had already filled the basket with boxers and socks, and was now grabbing packs of t-shirts and pajamas.

“Pick anything you like, okay?” he said as they walked past him. “I’m just grabbing the basics. These the right size?”

Jason almost protested again before deciding that if Bucky wanted to be an idiot then Jason was going to take him for everything he could.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Bucky reached forward slowly, hand landing warmly on Jason's shoulder when he didn't flinch away. “None of this comes with any strings attached. Just the chance for you to wear clothes that actually fit you.”

Jason tried not to lean into the touch, tried not to whine at the comforting warmth. He couldn't help it when he swayed forward a bit and he hated himself for it.

He swiped Bucky’s hand away. “Don’t.”

Bucky didn’t flinch. Just lifted both his arms up. “Can I?”

“You should,” Little Jay said, dropping Jason’s hand with one final squeeze. “Bucky gives the best hugs.” He wandered further down the aisle. “I’ll go find you a hoodie.”

Jason took a step back. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He went to put his arms down.

Jason took a step towards him, involuntarily. He cursed himself for his weakness.

“Jay, it’s okay,” Bucky said gently.

And Jason stepped into his arms with only one more tiny moment of hesitation.

Bucky wrapped them around him — one warm and the other cold — and pressed Jason's face into the crook of his neck. Carefully, terrified of rejection and furious at himself for indulging in this weakness at all, Jason wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist and let himself be held for the first time in years.

Bruce hadn't been much for hugs. It was always shoulder pats, a hand between his shoulder blades, a squeeze to the back of his neck. At most, Jason got one arm slung over his shoulders.

Dick hated him, or hated Bruce and took it out on Jason, so no hugs there either, and Alfred was the epitome of upper class British stoicism.

And Jason had been such a skittish child. He probably wouldn't have accepted touch from them anyway.

Talia hadn't been one for comfort, and the only time she had touched him with anything even related to softness, had been so wrong, so uncomfortable, that Jason had fought to forget it.

This hug was nothing like that. It felt so fucking good that Jason couldn't help gripping Bucky tight in the hopes he wouldn't let go.

Bucky didn't. He just tightened his hold and let Jason rest against him, inhaling shuddering breath after shuddering breath. It was a long time before Jason was willing to step back.

He hated himself even more for showing that vulnerability. Bucky too.

When he finally did step back, he had to duck his head and wipe his eyes dry. “Fuck,” he muttered, staring at the wet patch on Bucky’s red henley.

“Jaybug has cried, drooled, thrown up and wiped his nose on me so much that I’m immune to all bodily fluids at this point.” He squeezed Jason’s shoulder one more time before letting him go. “We better go find Little Jay before he buys you the entire store. Won’t accept anything for himself but won’t let anyone else go without.”

Jason followed him through the store until they finally found Little Jay with a pile of clothes that he was still adding to. It was way too much stuff and Jason’s heart pounded at the sight of it. He had no money here, no identity, no way to pay Bucky back.

And no interest in being in anyone’s debt. Not again.

“I only have…” he trailed off. He didn’t even have his wallet. “I don’t have any money. I know you said you’d pay but I’m not paying you back. In case you were wondering. This doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”

Little Jay glanced up from where he was sorting through piles of clothes. “We don’t have to pay Bucky back. He’s our dad. He just gets us stuff because he loves us. It’s crazy.” He shook his head like the very concept was foreign to him.

Which if Jason remembered correctly was true. Still felt true if he was being honest.

“He’s not my dad,” Jason said. “I don’t have a dad.”

Little Jay snorted. “Don’t worry. I already made sure that he’s a good guy. Plus if you’re not me then you are at least my brother, right? That makes the most sense, I think.”

Jason’s heart was starting to pound again and the lights were suddenly too bright. He glanced around, looking for an exit. Anger and fear raged inside him like a forest fire. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to run.

Most of all, he didn’t want to scare Little Jay.

Bucky crouched down in front of Little Jay and rested his forearms across his thighs. “Pal, remember that first morning with me when you were totally overwhelmed that I wanted to look after you and you didn’t know if you could trust me?”

He nodded, biting his lip. His sharp eyes flew over Jason’s face before returning to Bucky’s.

“Well, Jason only just landed in our world and he’s been through a lot, buddy.” He rubbed a hand over Little Jay’s hair. “Just like you. So we need to be gentle, okay?”

“Okay, Buck.” Little Jay bit his lip and nodded. “Sorry, Jason.”

Jason tucked his shaking hands into the hoodie pockets. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Little Jay nodded again with a serious expression. “It’s okay if you’re not fine. It was super scary the first few weeks with Buck. I didn’t know if I could trust him and I didn’t know what I would do if I had to run again. But I promise I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

“I’ll keep you safe.” He took a step back. Just a small one. “And I’ll keep myself safe.”

Little Jay shook his head. “Nope. That’s not how it works. We don’t have to look after ourselves. Not when we have people. And we have so many safe adults now. I found them for us.”

“I better go try these on,” Jason said instead of replying to that.

He grabbed a pile of clothes and rushed over to the fitting room without waiting for a reply. He wasn’t sure that he had it in him to figure out what it was Bucky had done exactly to get this tiny version of Jason to trust him so much.

Once the curtain was pulled, he slipped down the wall and buried his head between his knees. He took long breaths, trying to calm his pounding heart. Bucky wasn’t his dad. Little Jay couldn’t be his brother. Jason had no idea how to be a brother, a son, part of a family. It was too much. All of this.

Yesterday, he had a plan. He had a goal. He had hope that Bruce would choose him, and that the Joker would be dead. He didn’t know how to wrap his head around all the changes that had happened in such a short amount of time. Really it had only been hours.

He took another shuddering breath.

He was sure he could smell smoke but he knew it had to be in his head.

The shop wasn’t on fire. He was pretty sure the shop wasn’t on fire.

Someone laughed nearby, and he jolted, banging against the wall behind him. He had to get it together. Bucky wouldn’t let him stay for the week if he turned out to be broken and he needed to be sure that the sweet kid who had been trying to make him feel welcome all morning was actually safe.

He knew no one else in this whole world. Had no money. No ID. No way to survive here without going back to crime, and he just didn’t have it in him. Not right now. He needed the supplies Bucky had promised him if he wanted to make a fresh start.

“Jay, kid?” Bucky called, footsteps loud once again. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” He winced when his voice broke. “Fuck off.”

Bucky huffed out a breath that sounded like a laugh. It didn’t sound mean though.

Jason didn’t fucking understand this man. “I’m fine,” he repeated, pushing his shaking hands through his hair.

“Can I come in?”

He scrubbed his eyes. “No.”

“Okay.” He heard Bucky settle down on the floor outside the dressing room. “I know how overwhelming it can be when someone like Jaybug, who loves as bright as the sun, decides to focus all that light onto you. Especially when you feel like you don’t deserve it,” he said quietly even though there was no one else in there. “He’s just excited that you’re here.”

Jason didn’t reply. He wiped his nose on his sleeve. His stomach churned. He swallowed back bile. He didn’t want that description to remind him of himself but it did. Except no one had been willing to bask in his light for very long so he had made himself dark and cold instead.

He couldn’t be what Little Jay wanted. Couldn’t be who Bucky thought he was.

But, fuck, he suddenly, desperately, wanted it.

He wanted a family so badly that his chest ached with it. He wanted this family that was treating him so carefully and so gently. He wanted Little Jay as his brother and he wanted Bucky as his something. He didn't know yet. All he knew was that the man had done more for him in twenty four hours than Bruce had done in years.

He shook the thoughts away and let the anger take over again.

No matter how much he wanted this, he couldn't have it.

He knew that now; Bruce had shown him exactly how much he was worth, and exactly how little he deserved a family.

“You don’t have to rush this, bud,” Bucky said, dragging Jason's focus back to him. “You can be an acquaintance, a friend, a family member. Whatever you're comfortable with. We’ll figure it out. All you need to know is that you have a safe place to stay and a safe place to heal and a little kid who has already adopted you.”

Jason wiped his eyes dry.

It had felt good when Little Jay had called him his brother. Overwhelming, and terrifying, but good.

“I don’t need anything.” He paused and then abruptly amended, “No, wait. I need the supplies you promised me and no trackers on them. I need to go to Gotham, and prove myself to the fucking Bat. Prove that he's wrong.”

He ignored how the words made his breath short.

“You don’t need to prove anything to that man,” Bucky responded with a growl in his voice. “You just need to heal and be a kid again.”

“Jesus,” Jason muttered. “You have Little Jay. You don’t need me.”

“He’s the best kid I’ve ever met. He saved me more than once. But I have space in my life for both of you.” Jason heard Bucky getting to his feet. “C’mon, kid. It’s been a big day and it’s barely one o’clock. This was a stupid idea. Let’s get you home. You’re still healing.”

Jason stared at the pile of clothes on the stool beside him. He stared down at his shaking hands. He felt the fire dying down in his chest. He really was tired.

And Bucky wasn’t rushing him; he just stood silently behind the closed curtain, waiting.

Going back to the apartment suddenly felt like a great idea. Somewhere safe he could hide for a while. Somewhere he could try to build up all those foundations that Bruce's batarang had destroyed.

He stood up and pulled back the curtain.

“Let’s go,” he muttered, leading the way out of the store and back to the apartment.

The week passed slowly, and uncomfortably.

Jason hated every second. He refused to leave the apartment again, with the AI and that flying robot out there — but he hated being around Bucky.

Little Jay wasn’t so bad. He was a sweet kid desperate to make Jason like him. That was part of the problem, though; he was so desperate to get Jason to stay that he was smothering him with attention. It made Jason want to tear his skin off, made him want to scream and lash out and run, but he refused to be another person that hurt Little Jay.

He fucking wouldn’t.

When the attention became too much, he would hide out on the balcony, tucked between the wall and the glass parapet. He was pretty sure at times like those Bucky was keeping Little Jay away from him but he refused to feel grateful to another rich prick with an adoption addiction.

He kept his eyes on everything Bucky did: how he interacted with Little Jay, especially when he thought that Jason wasn’t around;how they acted around each other; how comfortable Little Jay was saying no; and how comfortable he was just being a kid.

They had a routine they stuck to on weekdays. Little Jay did school work, constantly trying to get Jason involved as well, and then when Bucky deemed it enough, they went out on daily walks. Jason refused every invitation to join them. He searched the apartment when they were out, three days in a row, before he finally accepted that he wasn’t going to find anything. Except some hidden weapons that were all out of reach of Little Jay.

Jason didn’t know whether to be impressed or pissed off.

Bucky seemed to genuinely care about Little Jay, and Little Jay fucking adored him back. It was coming to the end of his week staying with them. Only two days left.

Jason was ready to leave. Jason never wanted to go.

He hated how conflicted he felt.

Because the thing was Little Jay had grown on him, and Bucky had been nothing but kind to him even when Jason had been an asshole in return. It was nothing like the way Bruce had acted those first few days, and maybe that was because Jason was older, or because he was less desperate than he had been at twelve, or maybe it was because Bucky had a well of patience that never seemed to dry up.

Jason hated him. He wanted another hug.

Jason was leaving. He wanted to stay.

He went to sleep on his last night in the apartment afraid.

Fear and uncertainty clung to him like the dirt had after he’d managed to free himself from his grave.

He went to sleep afraid, and he knew what was waiting for him.

The Joker’s laugh followed him down into the dark.

He was in the warehouse again, choking on blood and cigarette smoke. The crowbar kept rising and falling, rising and falling, rising and falling. Like waves of the ocean, relentless, constant, inevitable. It cracked his skin, his bones, his organs. His life was bleeding out of him, and he could feel it.

The Joker wouldn’t stop cackling.

And then it was fire and burning and heat and nothing.

Jason woke with a jolt, sheets sweated through. He drew his knees up to his chest and stared down at his shaking hands in betrayal. He couldn’t take not knowing; he had to check where the Joker was in this world.

That's all. Just check that the man was locked up and couldn't get near him, or Little Jay.

He went out to the sitting room and grabbed Little Jay’s laptop. He typed in his name and hit enter. Headlines that made no sense filled the screen.

Joker killed. Joker dead. Clown laughs his last laugh.

Jason… couldn't breathe. Air would not enter his lungs. His eyes were streaming and his chest was tight and he couldn't breathe.

“Bucky,” he heard Little Jay shout and then there was a hand gripping his, pressing it against a chest that rose and fell exaggeratedly.

“C'mon, pal, you're doing great. Just copy me. Inhale. Hold. Exhale.”

He wanted to scream that he was trying, that he couldn't breathe, but then one tiny hand grabbed his free one and the shock of that touch made him draw a startled breath in, breaking up the rhythm of his attack.

He took another thin breath, and then another, and another, until he was breathing almost normally. Except the sobs wouldn't stop.

Bucky wrapped him up in the strange juxtaposition of his arms — warm and cold, soft and hard, safe and safer — and held him through it, stroking his hair as he did. Little Jay rubbed his back, making shushing noises that sort of sounded like a hissing cat.

Jason didn't want to leave the warmth of their safety but he had to know. He pulled back and glanced over at the laptop. Someone had closed it.

He sounded like he had gargled glass when he said, “The Joker is dead?”

Bucky nodded. “A few months ago in Gotham. Sniper.”

“Bucky's being modest,” Little Jay said, gazing at Bucky with rapt adoration. “Joker took me and Bucky—”

Jason swung around, grasping his shoulders. “You're okay? Were you okay?” He knew Little Jay was, he was literally standing unharmed in front of him, but it didn't stop the panic from taking over. “Did he hurt you?”

“Did he hurt you, Jason?” Bucky asked quietly.

He glanced over at Bucky, and saw the understanding in his eyes. He hadn't pushed Jason for any more information since that first night and now he looked like was regretting that.

Little Jay glanced between them. “Bucky killed him,” he said quietly. “For me. Because he hurt me. And scared me.”

Tears filled Jason's eyes again, pouring down his cheeks so quickly he couldn't even try to stop them. He fell into Bucky's arms, sobbing at the relief that someone somewhere had cared enough about some version of him to kill for them.

“I was so scared,” he gasped, “and no one was coming for me.”

Little Jay wrapped his arms around Jason's waist. “I was scared too. No one was coming for me either.”

Jason pulled Little Jay into his lap, between him and Bucky. He buried his face in the familiar curls and clenched his fists in Bucky's henley.

Bucky's arms wrapped around both of them. “I will always come. For both of you. And I will kill anyone in my way.”

Tension Jason had been carrying — ever since Talia had shown him that newspaper with Batman and Robin returning Joker to his cell — eased and unknotted. He felt dizzy with how light he was.

He leaned into Bucky, Little Jay warm in his lap, and just breathed.

Jason woke up.

He was warm, cozy. He thought maybe he was in his bed. He blinked his eyes open to check. He was still in his pjs, but now he was on top of the bed covers in his bedroom. He didn’t remember getting there.

Did he really trust Bucky enough to carry him to bed without waking up? Had he actually fallen asleep in the man's arms?

Seemed unbelievable, and yet.

Apparently, he had let Bucky carry him without waking. It felt suspicious but also sort of inevitable. Bucky had killed the Joker. It made Jason’s heart flutter in his chest. He had killed the Joker because Little Jay had been scared.

Jason genuinely had no idea what to do with that.

He had thought that he would feel relieved, safe, free. And he did feel all those things. But he also felt lost. Would he have felt the same if Bruce had killed the Joker for him? Was it because Bruce hadn’t done it that he felt so empty?

He was safe. He was safe. He was safe.

Why didn’t he feel better?

He could hear Bucky making breakfast, and Little Jay moving around his bedroom. It all sounded so domestic. He didn’t know how to keep it.

Overwhelmed, he let his feet land on the carpet with a thump.

“Wanna help me make breakfast, Jay, kid?” Bucky called from the kitchen.

Jason wiped the tiredness from his eyes. “I’d rather just eat it,” he replied loudly, wincing when his voice came out more like a croak.

Bucky laughed. “Come in and have some water at least. You’re probably at least a bit dehydrated.”

“I guess.” He shuffled into the kitchen and took the glass of water Bucky was holding out for him. “Can I have tea? I like tea,” he said without thinking.

Bucky smiled, small and so goddamn pleased. “Of course. Anything you want.”

Jason tried to pretend his heart wasn't pounding and his cheeks weren't burning. “What are you making?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes. Jaybug said that it would make you feel better.” Bucky flipped a pancake in the pan. “I made fruit salad for you both though. You can’t just eat sweets for breakfast.”

“You are such a dad,” Jason laughed as he made himself a cup of tea with only slightly shaking hands. Bucky barely paid attention. No punishment was coming. He could just have tea if he wanted. Maybe even share his preferences whenever he wanted. “Well, not a dad I know, but like a TV dad.”

“I’ll accept TV dad,” Bucky replied as he plated up the pancakes. “Do you want to talk about last night?”

Jason shook his head violently. “Nope. Not really. Not at all.”

“I will talk to you about therapy eventually.”

Jason shrugged and grabbed a plate. He didn’t think therapy would help him. He was pretty sure that nothing could help. “Yeah, we’ll see how well that goes. I’m sure a therapist would love to hear all about how Ra’s tortured me for fun.”

Bucky froze, hands clenching, He took a shuddering breath and finally said, “Jay, look at me.”

He put his plate on the table and stared down at it.

“Please,” Bucky prompted.

With more effort than he was willing to admit, he forced himself to meet Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky had walked over to him, standing close but not too close. “None of what happened to you was your fault. Not one bit of it. You’re not broken, Jason. You’re not damaged. You’re not to blame.”

Jason shook his head but couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.

“You don’t have to believe me yet.” Bucky gently placed his hands on Jason’s shoulders. “That’s what the therapy is for,” he said with a smile.

Jason couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. “Maybe we can talk about it another day.”

Bucky nodded. “Anytime you’re ready, Jay, kid. But I will be bringing it up sporadically. You know, to remind you that it’s an option.”

“I guess that’s okay.” He couldn’t keep meeting Bucky’s gaze. “Can I eat now?”

Bucky ruffled his hair. “Yeah, kid. You can eat.”

Little Jay appeared at the corner. “Can I come in now? I’m starving.”

Bucky laughed. “Yes, Jaybug, you can come in.”

Bucky found him in the kitchen after he had finished setting Little Jay up for the school day.

Jason was hunched over a cup of tea, ignoring the ache in his chest. Bucky had spent the last week talking like he wanted Jason to stick around. Jason didn't know what to do with that sort of uncomplicated want.

He heard more than saw Bucky stop on the other side of the breakfast bar.

He forced himself to meet Bucky’s eyes. He needed to see the truth in them when he asked his next question. “Did Little Jay ask you to kill the Joker for him?”

“Sort of. When the Joker took him, he put Jason in this tiny cage. I found him in it—” he took a shuddering breath; Jason wasn’t sure if it was devastation or anger, “and I killed the four men guarding him, taunting him, and the next day, I told him that I wanted to kill the Joker. The next time the Joker escaped, Jaybug expected me to keep that promise. I did.”

“How long had you known him?” Jason managed to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“When I promised to kill the Joker,” Bucky asked, “or when I actually did it?”

“Both.”

Bucky sighed. “When I killed those men and promised to kill him, I had saved him once and been following him for a week, maybe two? I lost track of time for a while. So I guess I didn't know him then.”

“Dissociation is a real bitch,” Jason replied with a small smirk, “and the best tool in your arsenal.”

Bucky shook his head. “We will definitely be talking about getting you therapy.” Bucky closed his eyes and seemed to lose himself for a minute. “When I killed the Joker, I had known him for a couple of months.”

Jason had never seen him so upset. “Bucky?”

“Sorry,” he said, with less emotion in his voice than before. “He had been so scared for months. I had the tools, the abilities and the motivation. What is the point of these skills if we leave monsters running around?” He tapped his metal finger against Jason’s cup. It made a gentle ding. “What Batman doesn’t realise is that some men can’t be saved, and eventually they stop deserving chances. The men who had me deserved to die. The men I’ve killed to save Jaybug, so many at this point, didn’t deserve to live. Batman is a child throwing his toys out of his buggy and then crying when someone else cleans them up.”

Something vicious and aching settled in Jason’s chest. “I didn’t want to kill people, but the people I did kill didn’t deserve to live anymore.”

Bucky nodded like he understood. Like what Jason had said made sense and wasn’t some hideous crime against humanity or morals or righteousness.

“Would you have killed the Joker for what he did to me?”

Bucky reached forward slowly and wrapped his hands around Jason’s wrist. Hot and cold. Safe and safer. “If anyone took you or Jaybug from me, I would raze the world to the ground. I would kill every single one of them. I would fight anyone, everyone, to get you back. To get him back. You are my kids, and no one is hurting either of you. Not while I can draw breath.”

Jason freed one of his hands and wiped his eyes. “I'm no one's son.”

Bucky smiled but it was sad; it still softened all the hard lines that had settled on his face as he had talked. “You don’t need to figure it out today, Jay, kid. I’ll just keep turning up for as long as it takes for you to feel safe.”

Jason covered his eyes with his hand but he nodded.

“I understand that this is overwhelming. Me and Jaybug, we've had months and months together. I've earned his trust. It took time. I respect that it'll take time to earn yours but you are already part of this family. The minute I saw you, I knew. You're mine, Jason. And if you'll let me, let Jaybug, we want to be yours as well.”

Jason shook his head. “You can’t mean that. You’ll get sick of me. Everyone always does.”

“Jaybug said the same thing,” Bucky said with a wry smile. “How about this? I stick around, and keep looking after you. You stick around and keep looking after me and Jaybug, if you want, and we can see how it works out?”

“I can leave whenever I want?”

“I promise,” he said seriously enough that Jason couldn't help but believe him. “You can leave and neither of us will follow you.”

A heavy weight lifted off Jason’s shoulders. “I guess I could stick around. For now.”

“For now,” Bucky agreed with a small but warm grin.

Chapter Text

Another week passed.

Jason didn’t leave the apartment. He barely left his bedroom. No one else came to visit. It was only him, Bucky and Little Jay existing carefully around each other.

Clothes had turned up the day after they had gone shopping; everything Bucky had said and more. There were heavy leather boots and a brown jacket that matched Bucky's and reminded Jason of the one he had worn as the Red Hood, good winter gear and soft sleepwear, jeans, t-shirts, and button ups, underwear and socks, sneakers and dress shoes, lavender shower products and moisturizers. Everything he didn't think he needed but was grateful for anyway. Having stuff made him feel better, safer.

There was even a leather backpack that was worth way too much and would stand out on the streets. Not that he was planning on running. It just felt better to know he could if he wanted to so he created a go-bag. It was just smart thinking. He packed some of the clothes and some non-perishables, a reusable bottle of water and cash that he had borrowed from Bucky’s wallet.

Bucky noticed but he didn’t say a damn thing. Just left another couple of hundreds in a book that he gave to Jason to read. Bruce would have done the same thing.

Jason ached.

He pretended that it was his healing injuries and not his broken heart.

Three days in, after finishing the book that Bucky had given him, he found Little Jay’s stash and took to reading them in his room. He made himself eat breakfast and dinner with them, not saying much, keeping his head down and eating silently while they chatted, trying to add a few words when they asked him direct questions, but mostly staying quiet.

Little Jay wanted to spend so much time with him — movies and reading and showing Jason his school work and waking him up every morning.

Jason felt both overwhelmed and charmed by the kid, glad that most of the activities could take place in his bedroom. He tried his best to keep up, but when it got too much, all he had to do was give Bucky a look and he would lead the kid away with some distractions so Little Jay never even realized it was Jason that had asked for the break.

Little Jay kept trying to get him to leave the apartment as well, but the apartment felt safe, his bedroom even safer. He didn't want to leave. Not yet. So he continued to convince Little Jay that he didn’t need to come with him and Bucky when they went on their afternoon walks.

Sometimes after they went out, Jason would ghost out of his room, sit by the balcony door in whatever weak stream of sunlight there was that day and read quietly.

He didn’t think anyone had caught him — he'd fallen asleep a few times but had always woken to an empty apartment — but on the fifth day he came out to a little nook; half-filled bookshelves sat behind a brand new navy armchair. A little side table sat beside it with a red lamp already lit. A matching red blanket was folded along the back of the chair. Fairy lights hung over the corner, glittering brightly in the dim apartment and the dark skies, reflecting against the windows. There was no one in the apartment so Jason walked over slowly, silently, trying not to disturb the quiet.

Jason had thought he didn’t like red any more. He was wrong.

He sat down on the armchair, shifting it slightly so that he could see both the skyline of New York and the sightlines of the apartment in one single glance. The seat was large enough that he could pull his whole body up onto it comfortably. The blanket was soft when he pulled it over his legs. Rain pattered against the balcony doors. Jason opened his book but he stared out at the fog wrapping fingers around the buildings.

His eyes felt heavy. He felt safe and sore and tired.

It had been almost two weeks since anyone else had entered the apartment. No one had hurt him. No one had threatened him. Bucky had been nothing but patient and kind. Little Jay was a goddamn delight, even with his overwhelming attention. Jason wanted to stay in this safe bubble for as long as possible.

His eyes slipped shut. He slept.

“Bucky, should we leave again?”

Bucky paused for a long moment, like he was thinking, and then said, “No, pal, not this time. Just don’t be too loud. He needs his rest.”

Jason was mostly awake, or mostly asleep, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to be awake. He listened to Bucky and Little Jay as they moved around the apartment: someone sitting on the couch, the susurration of a page turning, a kettle bubbling, cups landing on the counter, water pouring, and Bucky’s loud footsteps.

“Tea, Jaybug.” The footsteps moved over to Jason’s side of the room. “I know you’re still resting, Jay, kid, so don’t rush to wake up. There’s a hot drink there when you’re ready for it.” His hand brushed over Jason’s curls gently.

Jason didn’t feel anything but comforted, safe. “Thanks,” he murmured, keeping his eyes closed.

Sleep stole him back easily, and he let himself fall into it happily.

Jason was moving.

Arms slid under his legs and around his back. Warm and cold. Safe and safer.

He thought he was supposed to be worried, supposed to jolt awake, but he was so tired, so warm, so safe.

“You'll alright, Jay, kid.” Someone — Bucky? Who the hell was Bucky? — said, and they felt safe too. “Just putting you to bed. Try not to wake up.”

Jason leaned into the heat beneath his head, and let sleep hold him. He was placed down on something soft and a blanket was pulled over him. A hand gently pushed the curls off his forehead.

“You're okay. Go back to sleep.”

Jason slept.

He didn’t know what had woken him but he knew something had. He slipped out of bed, annoyed that he didn’t have any weapons on him, wondering where this Stark guy had stashed all the knives he’d had when he arrived. He had to assume Bucky had disarmed him when he first landed in the apartment so why didn’t he have Jason’s weapons? Why had Stark needed to take them? And why hadn’t he given them back yet? He knew he had some cool stuff in his gear but he couldn’t be that much better than what they had here. Irritated, he stuck his feet in his new boots and laced them up because having them on would make his kicks land harder.

Bucky had said that he wouldn’t ever let anyone into the apartment.

Jason should have known he wasn’t telling the truth.

No one ever was when they said they would protect him.

He crept down the dark hallway. The apartment was silent but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He stepped into the dark sitting room. The air behind him moved. He twisted away from a blade as it sliced through the air, aiming for his shoulder.

He grabbed the wrist of the person — small, strong, probably a woman —and flipped her. She landed on her feet, a bit like Talia would have, but that just meant he knew exactly how to counter her strike when it came. He swiped her hand away with his forearm but wasn’t fast enough to grab it again. She had clearly recognised what he was about to do.

She went for him with a barrage of blows that had him fighting to defend himself. As soon as he saw an opening — barely an opening, someone less trained than him wouldn’t have noticed it — he hit her sternum, putting all his strength behind it. She fell, landing hard on her back. He heard as the breath was forced out of her. There was a disturbance behind him and he dropped without even thinking about it. Just in time too.

An arrow landed in the wall exactly where his head had been.

The sitting room lights flicked on.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bucky asked coldly. He was in dark sweats and a black t-shirt, metal arm glinting in the two bright lights. “Natalia,” he snapped. “Stop. Now.”

Natalia, halfway up already, disappeared a knife into her clothes. She stood up the rest of the way and glared at Jason.

He got his feet back under him, and glared back.

“Clint,” Bucky snarled. “Tell me you didn’t fucking put an arrow in my wall.”

Bucky stalked over and pulled it from the wall, throwing it at a tall, blond man who hadn’t been in the hallway earlier. He had either come into the apartment after they were already fighting, or been in one of the bedrooms. Was Little Jay okay? He had to be if Bucky knew these people. Right? Right.

Jason held himself still, refusing to go check despite the sudden fear pounding through him.

Bucky turned to Jason and every part of him softened. He stepped forward, eyes skating over Jason’s body as if he was checking him for injuries. “Are you okay?”

Jason nodded, tongue feeling too big for his mouth — no one had cared if he was hurt for a very long time. His heart was pounding; he didn’t know these people and they had destroyed the one place in this universe that had felt safe. He wrapped his arms around himself and nodded again, blinking away the sudden tears.

Bucky saw it all; he always saw everything. He gently squeezed Jason’s shoulder and put himself between him and the strangers. “You two. Sit.”

They both sat. Natalia looked more amused than anything. The blond man — Clint — actually looked upset.

Bucky crossed his arms. Whatever expression he had on his face cleared the amusement from Natalia’s. “Explain to me why you broke into my apartment in the middle of the night and attacked my ki… my guest?”

Jason didn’t miss that Bucky had almost referred to him as his kid. It made his heart thump in his chest. A family was something he had given up on around the time he crawled out of his grave and found out Bruce had already replaced him. He didn’t know how to feel about how quickly Bucky and Little Jay had adopted him.

It was different with Bruce. He had been closed off. Had lied for the first three months until Jason figured out that he was Batman. Then he became more of a trainer than a father. Bruce tried, he did, but he had no idea how to parent someone with Jason’s trauma. Bucky had already given him more hugs in the last few days than Bruce had given him in the last six months he had lived in the manor.

“Explain,” Bucky said, voice as cold as the night Jason had landed in his apartment. “Now.”

No one answered.

“Little Spider. I said now.”

Natalia — Little Spider — rolled her eyes. “We got back from our mission and decided to steal some of your leftovers. This child assassin attacked me.”

“You attacked me,” Jason snarled. “You broke into the apartment and then attacked me.”

“I don’t know who you are.”

“And I sure as hell don’t know you,” he snapped.

She raised one of her eyebrows. “Jason?” She glanced back at Bucky sharply. “What the hell happened to him?”

“Jay?” Clint shot up, towering above everyone in the room.

Jason couldn’t hide his flinch and he hated himself for it.

His training was fucking useless.

Totally fucking useless.

He didn’t answer Clint. Just glared at them both with his best Red Hood expression.

“Fuck,” Clint said, rubbing his hands though his hair. “I almost shot you.”

“Bucky?” Little Jay asked as he wandered out, rubbing his eyes and looking like he was still half asleep. His eyes were barely open when he fell into Bucky’s stomach. “Why’s everyone shouting?”

“Hey, Jay,” Clint said, something heartbroken in his voice. “Missed ya, kid.”

“Clint,” he said, pushing away from Bucky and falling into Clint instead. “You’re home.” He grinned when he noticed the woman. “Natasha. You’re here too.” He grinned at her but kept his arms around Clint’s waist. “Why are you guys fighting?”

“Jaybug,” Bucky said. “Why don’t you go back to bed and we can all have breakfast in the morning?”

“Why is Jason behind you? What’s going on?” Awareness was coming into his eyes way too fast. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Jason said before the kid could get upset. “I didn’t know who Clint and Nat were. Got scared. Bucky woke up and came out to check up on me. All good, little man.”

Little Jay eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said with a small smile. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to bed. Tuck you in.”

“I don’t need to be tucked in,” Little Jay said, sounding scandalized. “I’m practically an adult.”

“Sure are,” Jason said, scooting around Bucky and hating the feel of three sets of eyes on him. It reminded him too much of Ra’s and Talia evaluating him every time he came back from a trainer. He ruffled Little Jay’s hair. “You want me to read you a story?”

Little Jay pushed him. “Maybe I should read you a story.”

He laughed, walking down the hallway and into Little Jay's bedroom. “Maybe tomorrow night. I’m tired now.”

“That’s because you’re a child,” Little Jay said, crawling in under his covers and yawning. He rubbed his face against the pillow twice in a gesture Jason recognised from himself. He petted Little Jay’s hair and watched as the kid melted into the bed. “You’re going to love Nat and Clint. They’re my safe adults too.”

“Maybe,” Jason managed with a tight smile. “Once you’ve got them.”

Little Jay shook his head, eyes drooping. “We’ve got them,” he said sleepily. “I’m glad you’re here, Jason. I’m really glad.”

The sudden lump in his throat made Jason struggle to breath. “Thanks, buddy,” he managed, waiting until he was sure Little Jay was asleep before he left.

Everyone was exactly how he’d left them. Bucky nodded at him, inviting him over to his side. Jason couldn’t deny him. Didn’t want to. Standing next to Bucky felt safe in a way he refused to examine. It was too closely related to how it had felt hiding under Batman’s cape when he was twelve.

“Bucky,” Clint said, “what the fuck is going on here?”

“He’s trained,” Natalia said. “Strong. Fast. He’s killed.” Something broke in her voice on the last word. “What happened to him?”

“Batman slit my throat. Some lady threw me into this universe. Landed there.” He pointed to the carpet where he just realized there was a mostly cleaned blood stain. “Bucky is letting me stay here until I find somewhere else.”

“Bucky is letting you stay here forever,” Bucky said with nothing but softness in his voice.

Natalia leaned back and crossed her legs. It reminded him of Talia. Again. Every one of her careful, purposeful movements and thought out gestures reminded him of Talia. It made his skin crawl.

She examined him with searching, judging eyes. “How do you know he’s not a plant?”

“Fuck you, lady,” Jason growled, hiding how he was shaking from the constant reminders of the woman who had lied to him, had touched him, had kept him from going home. When they found him catatonic and alone, why didn't she just send him back to Bruce? Why keep him? “You don’t know anything about me.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Jesus, you sound just like Jay.”

“I sound like me,” he snapped back.

“You could be anybody,” Natasha said with an icy voice. “Trained to mimic our Jason's characteristics.”

“Stark did a DNA test when he first arrived,” Buck growled. “It’s Jason. He literally landed in our apartment. Stark has also checked every single camera, around and in the building, every possible angle. He just appeared out of nowhere.”

Jason hated that they had done a DNA test on him without him knowing but he understood why they did it and why they never told him. He had been raised by the most paranoid man alive.

He swallowed around the lump that was still sitting in his throat. “How did you get into the apartment?”

“I have a key,” Natasha said with some amount of smugness.

“You said no one else could get in,” Jason said to Bucky, just managing to keep the whine out of his voice. “You promised this place was safe.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped. “I forgot they had a key, pal. I’m sorry. They weren’t due back for another week. I thought I’d have time to talk to them before they met you.”

Bruce never apologized.

Jason nodded.

The lump in his throat still hadn’t shifted.

“So what?” Clint asked. “You’re just taking in another kid? A trained assassin?”

“I’m not an assassin,” Jason snapped. “Fuck. Just because I was trained by them. I was also trained by Batman. I was trained by a lot of people. But I’m not anything anymore.” He scrubbed at his eyes, and whispered, not expecting anyone to listen or care, “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I don’t want to…”

“Alright,” Bucky said, stepping in front of him again. “Out. Now. And give me your key. Apartment privileges are revoked until Jason is comfortable having you here.”

Jason’s breath stuttered in his chest. He wiped tears from his eyes as Natasha handed over her key with a glare and stalked from the apartment. Clint grinned at him and waved as he followed her out.

Bucky sighed and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Jason managed. “I didn’t mean…”

“Jason.” He cut in, voice steady. “You don’t have to apolgise. I should have woken up. They didn’t register because I trust them. Same if Steve came in. It is not your fault. Not at all. But no one else has keys now. I took Steve’s, and Natalia’s was the only other set. No one can get in. I’ll put a deadbolt on the door tomorrow. Keep everyone out.”

Jason shook his head. “You don’t have to do that for me. That’s… I’m not worth…”

Bucky cupped his face gently. “Jay, kid. You’re worth that, and so much more. I want you to feel safe here. I want this place to feel like home. So anything you need to get there. Now,” he said, wiping the tears off Jason’s face. “I assume you’re not going to be able to sleep?”

Jason shook his head, gently enough that Bucky didn’t remove his hands. His touch was just so soft, so safe. Strong and stronger. Warm and cold. Soothing.

Bucky pulled him into a hug. “How about you sit at the breakfast bar and I’ll make us some breakfast. It’s practically morning.”

“It’s five am,” Jason said as he cautiously wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist.

“Morning,” Bucky replied with a smile in his voice. He held Jason until Jason pulled away from him. “C’mon,” he said. “How do you like your eggs?”

Hours later, Jason was curled up on his armchair, lost in a book, and Bucky was cooking up some breakfast for Little Jay. When a tiny body landed on top of him, Jason barely let out a huff of breath.

“Hey, little man,” he said, scrubbing his over Little Jay’s bedhead. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Did I dream Clint and Nat?”

“Nope.”

“Are they coming for breakfast?”

Jason glanced over at Bucky, not sure how to answer.

“Jaybug,” Bucky said, walking over to them. He sat on the coffee table and leaned forward on his thighs.

Little Jay rolled over and sat up on Jason’s stomach. “What’s up, Buck?”

“Nat and Clint really frightened Jason last night. They came into the apartment without permission and woke Jason up. Nat fought with him.”

Little Jay whipped around. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, bud. It wasn’t their fault.” He tried not to react when Little Jay shifted again and practically suffocated him. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” he replied. “You shouldn’t be scared in your home.”

“Jaybug is right.” Bucky walked over and kneeled beside the armchair. “I’m so sorry, Jay, kid. I really am. I’m gonna make this place so safe for you. I promise.”

Jason wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. “You can’t just stop Little Jay’s adults from coming over,” he whispered, because Little Jay had told him exactly how important these people were to him, exactly how safe they made him feel.

“I can go visit them,” Little Jay said, crawling off Jason with elbows in his ribs and a knee in his throat. He landed on the ground with a thump, and fell into Bucky’s waiting arms. “Homes are meant to be safe, right, Buck?”

“Right.” He stood up, picking Little Jay up with him. “I’m gonna go to the hardware store and grab a deadbolt. Are you okay staying here with Jason?”

“I have to do schoolwork so definitely. You don’t mind, do you, Jason?”

“Sounds good, kid. You can show me what you’re doing.”

“I can show you where you can sign up for high school, or a GED course. I looked it up. Both of them will get you into college. You want to go to college, right? Of course you do.” He bounced on his feet grinning. “I’ll go get my laptop. Wait here.”

He disappeared before Jason had a chance to reply. He glanced over at Bucky. “You don’t have to get a deadbolt.”

“Yes, I do.” Bucky said the words with a finality that made any more protests die on Jason’s tongue. “But breakfast first.”

“We should just get it over with,” Jason said, watching as Bucky started installing the deadbolt onto the front door.

Bucky glanced over at him, eyebrow raised.

“I’ll just meet them all in one go.” He shrugged. “They can ask all their bullshit questions and make all their bullshit accusations and then it’ll be done with.”

Bucky examined his face with his icy blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Might as well. If they’re anything like Bruce, and they care anything about you and Little Jay, they’re not going to let it go. They won’t care what age I am, or who I look like. They just see an assassin. A murder. A crime lord.” He couldn’t keep the loathing out of his voice. “That’s all I’ll ever be to them.”

“Well, I’m a hundred year old assassin who killed JFK. I don’t think you’ve done worse than me, and they forgave me.”

“You killed JFK?”

“I mean I was brainwashed at the time but yeah,” he shrugged. “One day I’ll tell you all about that Nazi death cult that had me, and you’ll realize that nothing you have done will ever reach the heights that I have.”

“You don’t even know what I did.”

“I know you didn’t kill any presidents. I can guess you killed some bad guys, some drug dealers, some rapists, a murderer or two.”

Jason shrugged but that warm feeling in his gut only grew. He sort of recognised it from before, well before, but everything from back then had a haze of uncertainty over it. This felt familiar though, like baking with Alfred, that time Bruce stayed off patrol with him when he was sick, studying with Barbie, and drawing with Damian.

Oh, fuck. He’d forgotten about Damian.

Bucky was watching him intently.

“Whatever,” he replied, brain going a mile a minute as he tried to figure out if there was anything he could do.

Bucky grinned, small and warm. “C’mon, Jay, kid. Let’s get this done so no one else can come in without your permission.”

The warm feeling spread to his cheeks. He ducked his head to hide it. “Whatever,” he repeated, hiding his own grin. “You hung it wrong. It’s not straight.” He nudged Bucky out of the way. “Just let me do it.”

He ignored Bucky’s amused huff and how it seemed to wrap around his shoulders like a hug.

Chapter Text

Once he had made the decision to meet the others, Jason finally did what he should have done as soon as he had arrived. He investigated this place that was his new home.

The Avengers — because apparently that was what this world’s Justice League was called — lived in the tower, together. They didn’t patrol their own cities like the heroes in his universe did, acting as vigilantes and stopping crime nightly. They seemed to be more interested in the big picture — world ending events, alien invasions, political shit.

He started with the basics. Learned the names of each of them. Learned their histories and their gimmicks. It was weird that Batman existed here, but they didn’t exist in Jason’s world. That the Justice League didn't exist. Yet, probably. Superman wasn't even a thing yet.

Just Bruce and his crusade in Gotham.

The history here was completely different; there had been an alien invasion in New York, an actual Nazi death cult like Bucky had said, and all the bullshit that was Tony Stark.

Captain America — Steve, Bucky’s best friend from the twenties, and now his boyfriend — was found frozen in an ice sheet after being presumed dead. During World War Two.

Steve’s costume was basically a suit made from the American flag, which Jason thought was wildly embarrassing. And useless when it came to stealth. He hoped he at least had a second one that was less loud.

If Jason hadn't known aliens and Amazons, the others might have impressed him too. Clint had an interesting background as a circus performer, criminal, and now superhero. Bruce Banner, their doctor, turned into a giant green rage monster, and Tony Stark had a metal suit that Jason realized was the robot chasing him that first night. Thor was the literal God from Norse mythology.

After a while, Jason found the leaked Hydra documents.

Such a dumbass name. Bet they really bought into the whole “cut off one head and two more grow instead” bullshit.

He discovered information on the Black Widow program and exactly who Natalia — Black Widow, Little Spider, Natasha Romanov — actually was. Her similarity to Talia just kept growing.

There wasn’t much on the League of Assassins, but that could mean anything really. They could be Hydra allies, or maybe they were more hidden in this world. Ra’s might not play nice and friendly with Batman like he did in Jason’s world. And by nice and friendly, he really meant stalkery and pure evil. Jason hated the man almost more than he hated the Joker. Constant torture sure did that to a guy.

He finally found out all of the shit that had happened to Bucky. The conditioning they had put Bucky through to make him compliant.

Jason took a shuddering breath as he read the first page of information on the Winter Soldier program. On every version of Bucky — The Winter Soldier. Soldat. The Asset. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Captain America’s right hand man. Steve Roger’s best friend. Little Jay’s father. Jason’s something.

He barely made it three pages into the Hydra files about before he had to run to the kitchen sink to vomit. Bucky had been nothing kind to Jason and he had been through so much pain.

Once he was done, Jason went back to the laptop and erased every hint of his research, and then made it so that Little Jay would never be able to discover any of it. Not until Bucky was ready to tell him.

No one deserved to find that out about their dad.

Shutting the laptop down, he curled up on his armchair and pulled his blanket over himself, because the shivering wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t keep the memories at bay: the torture, the training, the pain. He had used his “murder tour of the world” to taunt Bruce, hinting how they had both undergone the same training, but he had implied that it was fun. In truth…. not so much.

Talia had tried to replicate Bruce’s training as much as possible — but she had leaned more towards murder and mayhem than Bruce would ever have been interested in.

Jason stared out at the weak sun.

He didn’t want to feel this way anymore. He just wanted to… he didn’t even know anymore. He just didn’t want to feel this.

He didn’t turn around when he heard the front door open, or when he heard
footsteps heading over to him. He heard Bucky murmur something to Little Jay but he didn’t bother to try and listen. He heard Little Jay walk down the hallway without a word, not even a greeting. A door shut. Jason had to assume it was Little Jay’s bedroom.

He closed his eyes when he heard footsteps coming over to him. When he opened them again, Bucky crouched down in front of him.

“Hey, kid.”

He swallowed, cheeks wet. “Hey.”

“What happened?”

Jason blinked back tears. “How did you survive it? How did you hold on?”

“You finally did your research,” Bucky said gently. “I wondered when you would.”

Jason had to push down the instinctive fear at the words — Bucky wasn’t mad at him for not doing recon on a mission, he wasn’t criticising Jason for not being better prepared, or not being proactive enough in a new environment.

He was pretty certain of that, now.

Bucky hadn’t punished Jason. He wouldn’t punish him.

Jason swallowed on a suddenly dry throat. “How did you survive it?”

“I didn’t,” he said simply. “I wasn’t a person. Not for a very, very long time. They would…” he took a shuddering breath and sat down, pulling his knees up and resting his forearms on them. “You read my file.”

Jason nodded. “How did you… How are you… You’re so kind.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“Jaybug,” Bucky said like it was obvious. “He saved me. I was lost before he found me. Frozen in an alley. Literally. I had hurt Steve. Not that I knew who he was. Not that I knew who I was. And then three men tried to mug Little Jay.

“At first I thought he was Stevie. Again,” he said with a small smile, “I didn’t know who that was. Only that I was meant to protect him.” He smiled a little wider. “When they were unconscious, Little Jay robbed them.”

Jason laughed quietly, picturing the scene. It was exactly what he would have done.

“And I couldn’t leave him behind. Not after that.” Bucky let out a shuddering breath. “He saved me. It wasn’t simple or easy, pulling myself back together, but having him to look after made it bearable, gave me something to fight for. He’s my kid and I love him. But I still remember every single person I killed, and I still feel overwhelming guilt sometimes from what I did, but it wasn’t my fault. They took me and emptied me out and filled me up with whatever suited them best. They didn't just brainwash me, they destroyed me.”

Jason nodded. His story wasn’t the same. He chose it. It was his fault. He had believed everything Talia had told him; that didn't make him brainwashed, it made him a fucking idiot.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “It wasn’t.”

Bucky examined him for a long moment. “It wasn’t your fault either, Jay. Nothing that happened to you was.”

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He shrugged instead. “Any tips for meeting the team?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About meeting the team? Yeah,” he said with a grin that probably looked as forced as it felt. “That’s why I asked you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly. “They all talk too much. Too many big personalities with too many opinions. It will be overwhelming, I can promise you that, but they mean well. They just don’t know how to express it most of the time.”

Jason nodded. “Too late to skip out on it?”

Bucky smirked. “Leave the country? Start a new life?”

“Seems like a lot of effort.” He wiped his eyes again. “I’m so tired, Buck.”

“I know, kid. I know.” He got up slowly, and sat down on the edge of the armchair. As carefully as he always did, he lifted his arm, and when Jason didn’t stop him, Bucky pulled him into his chest and wrapped both arms around him. “I’m here, Jay.” He ran one of his hands through Jason’s curls.

Jason wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist and cried.

Jason woke up on the Thursday of his second week in the Tower to find out that the Avengers had had to leave for a mission, and the meeting to decide his fate had to be pushed back by a couple of hours. By the time he was sitting in the common room waiting for them to arrive back, he felt like his heart was trying to claw its way free of his ribcage.

They would be arriving back any minute.

He wanted to puke.

He sat at the table, watching the elevator. He was too well trained to show his nerves but he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin. He had felt like that since he’d had the conversation with Bucky. He knew what Bucky had been through was a million times worse than anything he had suffered but he couldn’t stop comparing the two.

Brainwashed. Brainwashed. Brainwashed.

That fucking word was haunting his dreams, his thoughts, every second of every day.

He had chosen to go along with Talia’s plan — the training, the murder tour of the world, going back to Gotham and trying to get Bruce to kill the Joker.

He hadn’t been brainwashed.

He would have known.

He dragged his thoughts away from that stupid word and back to the room.

Bucky sat to his left and Little Jay to his right. Little Jay was sipping a hot chocolate, and nibbling on a muffin he and Bucky had made, but he was also leaning into Jason’s arm with a strangely comforting presence. Bucky had his arms resting on the table but his knee was pressed into Jason’s thigh.

“They are on their way up,” Jarvis announced.

Jason slipped his hands under his thighs to stop them shaking.

“I’ve got you, pal,” Bucky said.

“Me too,” Little Jay said. “And anyway if anyone upsets you, I’ll tell them to fuck off and see how they like it.”

“Jaybug,” Bucky said with a warning in his voice but a smile on his face.

Little Jay giggled and attempted to wink at Jason. It mostly consisted of him closing both eyes and jerking his head to the left.

Jason managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

The elevator dinged and the Avengers walked out. Most of them were still in uniform. They had been out saving some school kids from a bomb or a terrorist or a bridge. Jason hadn’t been listening when Bucky explained why their meeting had been pushed back, and he wasn’t listening now as goddamn Captain America, cowl and shield and all his rigorous morals, stood opposite them, arms crossed.

“Drop the act, Stevie,” Bucky said with a scowl on his face. “We’re not here to talk to the Captain.”

“Yeah, Capsicle. Time to be a normal, if annoyingly righteous, man again,” Stark said as he stepped out of the Iron Man suit. The suit closed up by itself and walked away. Jason tried not to stare. “Coffee, anyone? I need coffee.”

“Why would you even ask?” Hawkeye, Clint, said, as he pulled off his gauntlets and tucked them into the quiver. He placed the bow and quiver on the countertop and turned to Little Jay. “My favorite little dude, how are you doing?”

Little Jay grinned, chocolate caught in his teeth, before he scowled. “I’m mad at you for frightening Jason. That was mean. You too,” he said, pointing at Natasha where she leaned against the wall in a skintight bodysuit with her arms crossed.

At least it was black. Unlike Mr American Flag over by the counter.

She raised an eyebrow at Little Jay but it was kinder than it had been when she had directed the same expression at Jason. “I have to protect you and Bucky, Jay. I didn’t know who he was. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you.”

Little Jay bit his lip, clearly thinking, but then he shook his head. “You have to look after Jason now too. Otherwise we’re going to leave.”

“You can’t leave,” Stark said. He was gripping a cup of coffee like it held the secrets of the universe in its depths. “Ice Daddy and Capiscle will melt if they’re too far away from each other.”

Clint groaned. “Ice Daddy? Seriously?”

“Not my best,” Stark agreed. “Too many daddy issues.”

The elevator dinged again and a ruffled man stepped off. Bruce Banner. He apparently had a rage monster living inside him. He didn’t look anything like a man with that many deep seated anger issues. His hair stood on end like he had been running his hands through it, and his brown jacket was oversized and ill-fitting. Alfred would never have allowed it.

He ignored the pang of grief at the thought of never seeing Alfred again.

“Bruce,” Little Jay said, sounding unreasonably happy. “This is my new brother, Jason. He’s me from an alternate universe, but Bucky says that we’re two different people because we’ve had two very different lives, so we’re not the same person but unique individuals.” He grinned brightly. “Isn’t that awesome? He’s my big brother.”

“He’s from a different universe?” Bruce glanced over at Jason, and then at Stark. “Multiverse theory has been proven and you didn’t think to mention it? Jesus, Tony. This is revolutionary.”

“Oh shit, I knew there was someone I forgot to tell.” He held up his hands. “In my defense, you've been neck deep in that new quantum physics experiment recently. And Thor exists.”

“Thor,” he said, unimpressed. “We all thought his world was an extension of this universe. Not an entirely new universe. We've talked about this, Tony. At length.” He shook his head as Stark spluttered and turned back to the table.

Jason tried not to shift uncomfortably under the laser focused attention.

“Jason, would you be interested in coming up to my lab and talking about this with me? I’d love to discuss some differences between your universe and this one. Only if you’re interested. We could also do it in your apartment if you’d be more comfortable there.” He shook his head, and then ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. “I have some papers I need to read. I have so much research to do.” He wandered back out without talking to anyone else.

“Bruce is so cool,” Little Jay whispered to Jason. “He only cares about science.”

“So we can assume Bruce is fine with the evil doppelganger,” Stark said as he slouched down in a seat opposite Jason, looking every bit the sulking teenager. “Bucky doesn’t get a vote.”

“Excuse me?” Jason said, anger overtaking his nerves. “Why the hell wouldn’t he get a vote? He’s the one that’s feeding me and clothing me. He’s the one that took me in. That’s some bullshit.”

“He’s compromised,” Natasha said. “He can’t vote because we know how he would vote.”

“Me and Buck both get a vote,” Little Jay said with a glare. “And we both vote yes.”

Natasha pursed her lips but didn’t say anything else.

“So that’s three votes yes.” Little Jay looked over at Clint. “Clint, you vote yes, right? Because I really want to introduce Jason to Lucky. I think Lucky would really cheer Jason up like that time he cheered me up. Oh, we could take him to the park, and throw a ball, and get pizza. You can get coffee too.”

Clint glanced at Natasha who raised an eyebrow at him and then he looked back to Little Jay’s grin. “I vote yes.”

“Thor would vote yes too,” Little Jay said, “since he’s technically from an alternate universe, or at least a different world, according to Bruce, so wouldn’t it be like super hypocritical of him to say no to Jason staying?” He counted on his fingers. “So that’s me, Bucky, Steve, Clint, Bruce and Thor. Nat is going to say yes after she asks more questions, and Stark will continue to say no because he’s contrary, so we don’t need to listen to him anyway.” He clapped his hands. “Great meeting, guys. Thanks for coming. There are muffins on the counter for everyone who voted yes. None for you, Stark.”

Jason was incredibly charmed by him, and incredibly overwhelmed. He glanced down to hide his smile.

“Jaybug,” Bucky said gently. “Let them ask their questions.”

“Where did you come from?” Natasha asked straight away. “Why are you here?”

He shrugged. “I was dying again. Some woman appeared. Said this wasn’t what she meant for me when she brought me back the first time. Tossed me in this universe. Not like I got a choice.”

“Dying again?” Steve asked, cowl finally down. “You died?” He looked weirdly heartbroken by the idea that Jason had died.

Jason didn’t know how to feel about that. He glanced down at Little Jay and suddenly realized it might have been better if he wasn’t here for this conversation. He looked devastated by the idea that Jason had died.

“I got better,” he said to him. “I’m okay.”

He shook his head and buried his face in Jason’s chest. “You’re not ever going back there. Not ever. I won’t let it.”

Jason wrapped his arms around Little Jay’s shoulder. “I promise I’m okay. It wasn’t so bad.”

Little Jay pulled back and glared at him. “You don’t have to lie to me.” He wrapped his arms around Jason’s waist. “Any more questions for the traumatized child?” He sneered before grinning up at Jason. “I learned that in therapy. I am also traumatized.”

“Jaybug,” Bucky said again but there was so much love in the word that Jason burned a little with jealousy. It faded when Bucky's hand wrapped around Jason’s shoulders and gently pulled him into his side.

“How do we know he’s not a plant?” Natasha asked. “How did he even get into the building?”

“I just told you I got thrown here. I can’t prove it except that I bet you can’t find a single record of my existence. And if you’re any good at your job, Black Widow, then you have to know that I don’t exist in this world.”

“Means nothing,” she snapped back. “So the League of Assassins stole you as a baby and raised you, trained you. Not like something like that hasn’t happened before.”

Jason snorted. “But there were no records, were there? No whispers? Nothing about me. Even the Black Widow program was known. The Winter Soldier was a ghost story. But for me? There’s nothing, right? That’s why you’re so pissed off. Ra’s and Talia might be good but they aren’t ‘completely hide the existence of a child’ good. No one is.”

He couldn't help but think of the toddler that used to sit on Talia's lap sometimes, with green eyes and Bruce's glare. That he used to draw with when she was feeling sentimental.

He'd have to do something about that.

Natasha glared at him. He was sure it would have been threatening if not for the life he had lived. “I don’t trust you.”

“Yeah, well,” he shot back, “I don’t trust you either.”

“Stark checked the cameras, Natalia,” Bucky interrupted. “He checked the streets. He checked his facial recognition across the goddamn country. He checked Jason’s DNA, without asking me first. Because he knew I would have made him ask the underage kid if that was okay, but you know, fuck respecting boundaries or bodily autonomy. That never goes anywhere bad. That never ends in a goddamn chair with Nazis sending thousands of volts of electricity through your brain.”

“Buck,” Steve said, voice shaking. “We had to check.”

“These are my kids, Steve. Both of them. I don’t care how or when Jason arrived. He’s mine. Fuck all of you for even forcing this conversation.”

He stood up and his posture changed completely. Gone was the soft, safe Bucky that Jason was getting used to seeing. In his place was a cold, harsh man who’s posture reminded Jason of Slade, of Batman, of Talia. Except Bucky seemed like more than all of them because he embodied each of them.

Danger with experience lived in Bucky’s body and Jason suddenly saw exactly how dangerous Bucky actually was. How dangerous the Winter Soldier must have been.

“We’re leaving,” he said in short, sharp words. “We’ll be in our apartment. I don’t want to see any of you.”

“He’s been trained,” Natasha said with an edge to her words, “as an assassin. He moves like the Bat and a handful of different killers. He nearly bested me in a fight. He has the instincts of someone years older than him. We have to ask these questions. He’s in the apartment with you and Jay. I am not letting anything happen to either of you. That is my job here.”

“Nearly bested you?” Jason laughed meanly. “Last I checked you were the one on the ground and I was the one still standing.”

They glared at each other. Little Jay trembled by Jason’s side. He realized with sudden clarity exactly what he was doing when he glanced down at the kid; he was taking away his safe adults, because he knew if Jason made him choose, Little Jay would choose him.

He scrubbed his hair, and sighed, exhausted and guilty. “Fine. You want to know everything?” He wrapped an arm around Little Jay, rubbing his shoulder with his thumb in what he hoped were soothing circles. “I was homeless at nine. Exactly like Little Jay. Except no one found me until I was twelve when Batman caught me stealing his tires. He made me Robin. I died,” he said into the ensuing silence. “The League of Assassins found me when I came back, jacked me up on their green Mountain Dew of Doom, and sent me to a bunch of different trainers before setting me loose on Gotham.

“Talia probably had a plan of her own but she never told me.” He stared down at the table, keeping his voice emotionless. He couldn’t help the slight tremble when he admitted, “Batman cut my throat.” The words tore up his mouth and he was suddenly exhausted. “I didn’t ask to come here. I didn’t want to end up here. I’ve been fighting my whole life. Every single thing has been a fight. I’ve no home to go back to.” He shrugged with false nonchalance. “But I can leave. I don’t want to make this harder for everyone. I'll head back to Gotham. Figure it out. I always do.”

“No,” Steve said. Except it wasn’t Steve. His voice had gotten deeper like Bruce’s did when he was Batman. This was very obviously Captain America. “You can stay. You’re welcome here. Any version of Jay is welcome here.”

“I’m not running an orphanage,” Stark muttered.

“Then we’ll leave,” Bucky said. “You think we’re here for any other reason but kindness? But wanting to have Little Jay close to his people?”

“Yeah,” Little Jay said, voice shaking but strong. “We’ll leave and you’ll never see us ever again.”

Jason wiped his eyes. “You don’t have to do that. They have a right to ask questions.” He’d been raised by Bruce Wayne; he understood paranoia. “They need information. I just turned up out of nowhere. I’m trained. I could be anyone.”

“But you’re not anyone,” Little Jay said. “You’re ours. Mine and Bucky’s.”

Jason shook his head. It was too much too quick. He couldn’t handle this. “I have to go,” he said, jumping to his feet.

Before anyone could react, he was across the room, slamming through the fire escape door and into the stairwell. He ran down the stairs, jumping whole floors, and ignored the voices calling after him.

He finally stopped running thirty blocks away from the Tower. He climbed up on top of a dumpster and pulled down a fire escape ladder. Once he reached the roof, he sort of ran out of steam. He landed heavily on the rough tarmac and just stopped.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before he heard the thwack of something hitting the building above him and then the soft landing of someone with experience.

“Hey.”

Jason didn’t bother turning around; he kept his watery eyes on his hands. “Hey,” he managed.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Jason laughed wetly. “Well, you seem to be stalking me, so.”

“You’re the one hanging out on rooftops waiting for me to find you. Technically you’re the one stalking me.”

“I’m really not in the mood.”

“I can see that. You’re Jason, right? That’s what your dad called you last time.” Spiderman took a step closer. “Is he on the way?”

He didn’t confirm his name. Couldn’t believe Spiderman even remembered it. He was pretty sure Bucky only said it once. “He’s not my dad. He just looks after my… little brother, I guess.” His heart thumped, thumped, thumped with the words. “And no he’s not coming after me. Not this time.”

The fire escape creaked behind him and familiar footsteps walked across the roof.

Bucky sat down beside him. “I’ll always come after you, Jay.”

Jason avoided looking at him. “I’m fine,” he muttered, wiping his eyes angrily when they filled with tears again.

Bucky didn’t say anything else.

Spiderman glanced between them. “I’m gonna,” he thumbed over his shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Jason nodded, ignoring how jealous he felt when Spiderman stepped off the edge of the building and flew through the air on thin white rope.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. They watched the sunset in a silence that was broken only by the roar of New York below them, and Jason’s sniffles as he tried to stop the tears slipping from his eyes. He couldn’t stop them from crawling up his throat, from making his vision shimmer and his breath thready.

He wiped his eyes with one of his hands. “When I…” He stopped, swallowing. “When I got taken by the League of Assassins, I was Talia’s little pet. Her project.”

Bucky had frozen into something dangerous. “Ra’s?”

Jason nodded. “He tortured me. A lot. Before Talia got me. And after too. Whenever he could.” He shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Bucky when he spoke. “I wanted to go home for a while but then she convinced me it wasn’t a good idea.” He clenched his hands into fists. “You were brainwashed. You said… Talia made it so I thought I wasn’t wanted anymore. Made me think I didn’t want to go home. That I wanted…” He waved a hand. “Maybe Bruce didn’t want me but I’ll never know now.”

“Jason…”

He shook his head. “I know he cut my throat but it was my fault. I’d been winding up to this big plan, this final confrontation, but to do that I had to seed chaos. I had to…” He shook his head again. “Maybe if I had just gone back, Bruce would have taken me back. Why did she take me? Why didn’t she just let me go home? She stole me and… and… brainwashed me. She turned me against them. Against my family. She let me do her dirty work, and made it so I thought it was my idea. I thought I knew what I was doing.”

Bucky shook his head. “You were a kid. Alone. Scared. And they took advantage of that, hurt you until you would do anything they wanted. Just to make the pain stop.”

“It’s not like what they did to you. It wasn’t… It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Bucky said with absolute confidence. “None of it. You were a kid and they tortured you. They isolated you. Took advantage of your trauma and grief. Made you reliant on them.”

“It was my fault.” He couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “It was my fault.”

“I promise it wasn’t your fault, Jay. I promise.” He ran one of his hands through Jason’s curls. “I’ll tell you as often as you need to hear it.”

“I probably won’t believe you.”

Bucky laughed. “That's okay.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes as night fell. Lights started coming on in different windows, shadows moving over them as people settled down for the night. Bucky was warm beside him.

Brainwashed. Brainwashed. Brainwashed.

Jason shivered.

“Just before I died,” he said before he knew he was going to say it, “Bruce told me I wasn’t his son. That he didn’t need my teenage rebellion. And then I found out that my mom wasn’t my mom, so I went looking for my real one.” He snorted. “Catherine was my real mom. Sheila,” he shook his head. “She was working for…”

He couldn't say his name.

“The Joker,” Bucky said with deathly finality.

Jason nodded. “She stood by and watched as he beat me half to death. Then he shot her and blew me up.”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“I can’t handle it. You and Little Jay. Wanting me. It’s too much.” He stared out at the skyline that he would never know as well as he knew Gotham. It just wasn’t in his blood. “Nobody wants me. Nobody keeps me.”

“You know Little Jay had the exact same fears,” Bucky sighed. “But he’s so much younger than you. You’ve had so many bad things happen to you that will never happen to him because I would never allow it. But I didn’t save you. I couldn’t save you. I wish I found you sooner, kid. I wish I could have been there for you.”

Jason shook his head. “No one ever comes for me.”

“I will,” Bucky said with a conviction that made goosebumps explode across Jason’s skin. “I swear, Jay. I’ll always come for you.”

Chapter Text

Little Jay was feeling especially clingy the next day. He pinballed between Bucky and Jason all morning and refused to let either of them leave the apartment. Not that Jason wanted to.

When someone knocked on the door, Little Jay was currently attached to Bucky so Jason had offered to open the door. Dressed in soft, slouchy clothes, he knew he looked young and soft. It helped him stay calm — whoever it was would probably underestimate him when he looked like a kid.

“Hey Alternative Annie,” Stark said as soon as he saw Jason. “I come bearing gifts.”

Jason was already regretting opening the door — he raised an eyebrow at Stark.

“Can’t tell if you got that expression from Bucky, or if you came by it honestly.” When Jason didn’t say anything, Stark said, “I know yesterday didn’t exactly go as planned but nothing we can do about that, short stack. Anyway, can I come in? I need to show you, and your terrifying little brother, and your even more terrifying new father, something.”

Jason examined him for a second, but Stark seemed like he was probably telling the truth.

“I'm taller than you,” he said as he stepped back and let him in. He locked the door behind him, sliding the deadbolt into place.

Stark pointed at the heavy duty lock. “That was not improved by your landlord.”

Jason shrugged.

Stark laughed and headed into the kitchen, turning his back to Jason like it meant nothing. Did none of these people have an ounce of a survival instinct? Or did they really just feel so safe that they let their guard down the minute they entered this tower of theirs?

He somehow doubted that Natasha relaxed like that.

Talia never had.

Stark walked straight to the kitchen, pouring himself a giant cup of coffee.

“Tony,” Little Jay said happily before they started bantering back and forth about how much caffeine Stark had consumed.

The conversation had a well-practiced air like they had it often. Even the vitriol was softened at the edges like a sanded down piece of wood.

Bucky sat at the table watching them with a soft expression on his face.

It made Jason’s chest ache; had anyone, even once in his life, looked at him with such uncomplicated love? Had anyone liked Jason as much as Bucky seemed to genuinely like Little Jay?

“Stark,” Bucky said. “Why are you here?”

“He said he had a present for us,” Jason said as he swept the thought away and poured himself a cup of coffee.

There was tea in the cupboard; he didn't know if he wanted to make it in front of Stark. He didn't trust the man like he did Bucky and Jay. And that thought shot through him like a lightning bolt; he hadn't realized that he trusted Bucky. Not really.

He had faced down Batman, had brought Gotham to its knees, but was now too afraid to show a goddamn preference in front of a stranger. He hated himself for the weakness and he hated Bruce for slicing his throat and infecting him with all this fear.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “What do you have for us, Stark?”

“Oh, yes. Right. Well, I had some time last night. This morning. Something in the last twenty four hours. Whatever. I set you up with an identity.” He pulled out a folder from the back pocket of his jeans and unrolled it. “So Jason Todd already exists,” he pointed at Little Jay who grinned happily, “so unfortunately I couldn’t give you that name.

“But you are now Jack Todd. That way you can still be called Jay in public. Willis Todd is your dad. You only found out about your half brother when your mom died a few months ago and it was revealed in the will. You saw him in the newspaper and came to the Tower to find him. We did the tests, did the due diligence, and Bucky has agreed to take you in. I’ve already gotten it cleared with the same social worker that dealt with Jason’s—”

“Little Jay,” he snapped, stamping his foot and glaring. “I’m Little Jay now.”

“Little Jay’s case,” Stark continued like he hadn’t been interrupted. Although he did send a wink Little Jay’s way. “She had agreed to allow Bucky to foster you for now. I had my lawyers sort out all the particulars. The history is there. The birth certificate is actually on paper, and in the correct filing cabinet in the correct building in Gotham. So is the will. Thanks to some sneaking by Nat. That took a hefty bribe by the way. She is still unimpressed by you.”

Jason shrugged. “I’m not that impressed by her either.”

Stark laughed. “You’re a piece of work, kid. I’ve never met anyone that the Black Widow didn’t intimidate. You must have had some life, known some people, for her to not have that effect on you.”

Jason glanced away, stomach churning. “I’ve trained with scarier people than her.”

“Didn’t think there were scarier people than her. Except for Mr Cold War over there,” Stark said with a grin before handing the folder to Jason and ignoring Little Jay's annoyed snort. “I can’t really change anything. Actually, I probably should have checked this story before I finalized it.” He winced. “I get an idea and have to burn it into the ground.”

Jason glanced through the folders and then handed it to Bucky when he walked over. He stood beside Jason, pressing into his shoulder, like he realized that Jason was overwhelmed. From the quick glance Jason had seen it was good work: birth certificate, social security number, old high school grades, a copy of his fake mother’s will, and some other miscellaneous documents. He probably couldn’t have done it any better himself.

“Thank you, Tony,” Bucky said. “I really appreciate this.”

“Digital trail?” Jason asked.

“Perfection,” Tony said. “You can enroll in school. I mean, I had to make up your grades so hopefully you’re as smart as Little Jay is. Otherwise, we’ll just say you’re having adjustment issues. Socials are sparse but backdated.” He waved his hand again. “Whatever. It’s perfect. No one could find fault. Jarvis and I had fun with it.”

He ruffled his already messy hair, and took a long drag of his coffee, before putting the empty cup onto the counter.

Jason watched him, unsure what to ask next.

“Oh, your phone too,” Stark finally said. “All our numbers are already programmed in. You’re on Bucky’s family plan, but it's a private network anyway. Avenger level security.”

Jason took the phone cautiously, tucking it into the pocket of his hoodie. Just in case someone tried to take it back.

Stark scratched the back of his head. “I do have one thing to ask you though. There is a wizard type person that we know. And he would like to meet you. He needs to check that you being here won’t, you know, destroy the multiverse and all life as we know it.”

Jason swallowed. “Yeah, sure. Probably better not to let that happen.”

“Okay. Great. Other than that you exist in this world now. You’re stuck with us.”

Jason couldn’t help smiling when Little Jay cheered.

“Jason, you’re my big brother officially. Forever and ever and ever.” Little Jay threw his arms around Jason’s waist. “And once Bucky adopts you, he’ll be your dad too, and we’ll be a legal family.”

Jason’s grin slipped a little, but then he remembered the certainty with which Bucky had promised to come for him, and he found himself nodding.

He ruffled Little Jay’s hair. “Sure. Maybe. Eventually.”

Stephen Strange wore a blue tunic over blue trousers, and his red cloak was alive.

Little Jay was fascinated. The cloak flowed around him, tweaking his nose and tickling his ribs and ruffling his hair. Little Jay couldn’t stop giggling as he tried to catch it as it moved.

Strange watched with an indulgent expression on his face before turning to examine Jason.

“Jason,” he said. He reminded Jason of Alfred a little bit — crisply polite, rigidly reserved, well educated and confident with it. He seemed like the type of person who could make himself fit into any situation. “Tell me about how you got here.”

Jason glanced over at Bucky.

“You’ve got this, Jay, kid.” He sat down next to Jason and rested their shoulders together. “I’ll help fill in any blanks.”

“I was…” He glanced over at Little Jay who was still distracted by the cloak. “I was bleeding out, and this woman appeared. Everything about her was white…” He described what happened quietly, keeping his eye on Little Jay to make sure he didn’t listen to the more gruesome details. After he finished, he shrugged. “I woke up in the hospital wing with Buck and Little Jay.”

“May I?” Strange asked, waiting for Jason to nod. He raised his hands, and designed some pattern that Jason didn’t understand in the air.

Jason felt a hint of warmth as it shivered across his skin.

Strange hummed. “You are not of this universe.”

His heart dropped. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten his hopes up. He couldn’t believe how disappointed he was at the thoughts of going back to his universe. Leaving his little nook. His bedroom. The apartment.

Bucky. Little Jay.

“So, that’s it? You send me home?”

Strange shook his head. “No. You were not part of this universe. You are not part of it. Except that you are.”

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked with a growl in his voice. “Could you just talk clearly?”

“Jason is not of this universe. His… baseline,” he finally said in a tone that said the word was wrong but clear, “is wrong. But it is also right. Like someone has overwritten what once was true. The very basis of truth.” He shook his head. “Jason, this woman was someone powerful. There are few people in existence who would be capable of such a task. You have been blessed by someone very old and very powerful. You belong here now. This is your home. I cannot not undo this.”

Jason’s hands were shaking. “I can stay?”

“You have to stay. I’m sorry if this wasn’t the news you wanted.”

He shook his head, not able to express the relief that had overcome him. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted to stay. How much he wanted to be here.

It was a terrifying realization.

“Thank you,” Bucky said. “We appreciate you clearing that up. Do you need anything else before you go?”

Strange shook his head, glancing over at where Little Jay had curled up with the cloak wrapped around him protectively; he was fast asleep.

“My cloak will make its own way home when your child has awoken. Do try to stop him drooling on it.” He walked to the door. “Jason. Sergeant Barnes.” He disappeared with a serious nod.

“I didn’t know I wanted to stay until I thought I wouldn’t be able to,” Jason whispered.

Bucky pulled him into a hug. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re staying, Jason. You have no idea.”

“Jaybug,” Bucky said, hanging up his phone with a frustrated sigh.

“We need to reschedule your appointment with Bruce.” He glared down at his phone. “I’ve got a meeting with my lawyers that can’t be missed.”

Jason glanced up from the book he was reading. “I could bring him?” he said, trying to sound confident. “It’s only upstairs, right?” He still didn’t know how he felt about them but spending more time with Little Jay seemed like an easy way to figure it out. It was a week since his meeting with Stephen Strange, a little over three weeks since he'd been flung into the universe, and Jason was finally starting to settle in a way he wasn't sure he trusted yet.

Little Jay kept typing something on his laptop without looking up.

“It’s needle day, pal,” Bucky said, crouching down in front of Little Jay. “I know how much you hate it. We can do it later in the week.”

Little Jay glanced over at Jason, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you hate needles?”

Jason swallowed on a suddenly dry throat. “Nope. I grew out of that.” He didn’t mention that Ra’s had exploited his fear of needles to control Jason until he had forced himself to stop reacting to them being near him. “Bet you will too.”

He ignored how Bucky examined him, his eyes taking in way more than Jason wanted him to see.

Little Jay grinned. “I can go with Jason. We’re meant to go on the same day every week. Bruce says it’s better for the results.”

“Only if you’re sure, Jaybug.”

“I’ll be fine, Bucky. I’m ten now. That’s practically grown up.”

Bucky kissed his forehead. “Not for another ten years, pal. At least.”

He giggled and pushed Bucky away. “You have to give Jason a kiss too. He hasn’t gotten any kisses since he got here.”

Jason’s cheeks burned but he didn't move when Bucky very gently pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You’re a good kid, Jason,” he said, squeezing Jason’s shoulder before straightening back up. “Your appointment is at two tomorrow, Jaybug. If you decide you don’t want to go without me, I can rearrange it no problem.”

Little Jay nodded. “Okay, Buck. But I’ve got to do my essay now.”

Bucky chuckled and ruffled his hair before heading back to the kitchen to make dinner. Once Jason knew that no one was paying attention, he touched his temple. No one had touched him so gently in so long. The action had caused something to untangle in his chest and all that was left was overwhelming warmth.

Jason had long learned not to show his fear on his face. He wouldn’t have survived the League if he hadn’t but this lab was testing his last nerve. It was everything he expected from a lab-slash-doctor's office, with all the instruments that reminded him of the experiments Ra’s used to run on him to try and figure out how he had come back to life.

He tried to push those memories back into their box — he’d managed to avoid them that first night in medical, too much happening to really think about anything but the situation he was in, but everything had calmed down now, and it was all rushing forward again.

He forced back his shiver and smiled down at Little Jay. The kid wasn’t as scared as Jason had expected but that might have been because he had been coming to the lab once a week for the past few months. Little Jay squeezed Jason’s hand and led him through the lab and over to where Bruce was sitting at one of the tables.

“Bruce,” he called. “Bucky couldn’t make it so Jason came with me.”

“That’s no problem,” he replied in a much calmer tone than when he'd found out about Jason, “but you remember that it’s blood day?”

Little Jay nodded. “Jason says that I’ll grow out of my fear of needles. He did. And I know we’re not technically the same person, because of different life experiences or whatever it is that Bucky says, but I trust him so I’m gonna try not to be scared.”

“That’s really brave of you,” Bruce said kindly. “Hey, Jason. Good to see you again.”

Jason nodded a hello. “How's the multiverse research going? Sorry I never got back to you about the interview or whatever.”

Bruce waved him off. “Totally fine. Tony put me in touch with Stephen Strange as an apology. The research I'm doing with him has been incredibly illuminating. I could talk about it for hours.” He must have seen horror, or something, on both their faces because he said quickly, “I won't though. Don't worry.” He stood up and grinned down at Little Jay. “Should we get all the measurements out of the way first?”

Little Jay nodded. “Jason, you can sit there. I’ll probably still sit on your lap for the needle, okay?”

“Definitely,” he said as he sat down.

He watched as Bruce went through the practiced motions of taking Little Jay’s temperature, height, weight, blood pressure and then listening to his heart. He compared them to other notes he had, humming and nodding as he did.

“It all looks good so far, Jay. Your weight has finally reached a healthy range and stayed there. You’re definitely taller than the average height for your age but the serum hasn't done anything too drastic so far.”

Little Jay bounced on his feet. “Did you hear that, Jason? I’m going to be as tall as you.”

“Sure are, buddy.”

“All we’ve got to do now is your blood work.” Bruce started setting up the equipment. “Are you ready?”

Some of the excitement fell from Little Jay’s face. He nodded. “I’m ready.” He walked over and climbed onto Jason’s lap. “Is it okay if I’m still a little scared?”

“Yeah, course,” he said gently. “You don’t have to get over it straight away, or ever. Even if you’re scared of needles forever, that’s okay too.”

“Really?”

“Definitely,” he said softly. Bruce sat down on the stool beside them and reached for Little Jay’s arm. “What are we going to do after this? Want to sneak out of the tower and get ice cream?”

“I dunno know if that’s allowed.”

“Who’s going to stop us?” Jason asked with a bright grin, ignoring how his heart pounded as the needle headed for Little Jay’s arm. “Bruce here is too busy in the lab, Bucky and Steve are busy with his lawyer. Tony and Pepper are in California. And Clint and Nat are on a mission. We’re totally unsupervised.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Maybe you could leave me some plausible deniability.”

Jason laughed, relieved that Bruce was now sticking a band-aid to Little Jay’s arm. “Sorry. We’re definitely not leaving the Tower. We are going to go back to the apartment and not get ice cream.”

Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Well, that is just thrilling to hear. Jay, you’re all done here. Why don’t you both go and enjoy the rest of your day?”

Little Jay jumped off Jason’s lap and grinned. “I want a double chocolate chip brownie scoop with vanilla. As a palate cleanser.”

“A palate cleanser, huh?” Jason said as they walked over to the elevator.

“I read that in a book.”

Jason grinned. “Well, I’ll see what I can do.”

“I just think you should do some school work with me,” Little Jay said before taking a long lick of his ice cream. Chocolate coated his chin and his left cheek. “I hadn't been to school in ages either and they still bumped me up a few grades. I bet you could finish high school in a year.”

Jason didn't answer; the thought of school, of learning, felt too big for him to even consider. It wasn't the first time since he'd arrived that Little Jay had tried to convince him to start homeschooling, and he doubted it would be the last.

Instead he pulled a napkin from his pocket and stopped Little Jay. “You've got chocolate all over your face.”

Being out wasn’t as overwhelming as Jason had imagined when he had been hiding in the apartment. This city wasn't Gorham, and so it didn't have the same memories as Gotham had. It had none, in fact. He'd never been to New York.

All he had now were those few mad dashes away from the Tower that first week or so, and this walk to and from the ice cream shop, just a few blocks away. Even the trip to the department store had been done in a car, and he hadn't been in the mood for looking around.

Maybe he could fill this city with good memories.

They wandered down a clean alley that separated two blocks. It had none of the dark, dank danger that seemed to cling to Gotham’s alleys. Shadows made the air cool; Jason pulled up Little Jay’s hood.

“Jason,” he whined. “C'mon, I'm fine.”

A pair of boots slammed down behind them.

Jason swung around, pushing Little Jay behind him.

Slade motherfucking Wilson stood in front of him in jeans and a white t-shirt, blue eye narrowed with suspicion.

Jason didn’t think; he just reacted.

He threw his ice cream to the side, pushed Little Jay behind a dumpster and slammed into Slade with all the strength he had in his aching body.

He attacked hard and fast, using every move that he had ever been taught. Most of them from Slade himself.

“Stop,” Little Jay shouted, but Jason couldn’t pay attention to him, couldn’t protect him, when Deathstroke was attacking him. “Stop it.”

It didn’t take long for Slade to have Jason up against the wall, hand around Jason’s throat and knife to his stomach. Jason grasped at his control with tight fingers, ignoring how every breath dug the blade further into his skin and how his heart pounded in his chest.

“Jay, buddy, you okay?” Slade called out, without taking his eyes off Jason. “Don’t you dare move, boy, or I’ll put this knife through your gut.”

“Try it,” Jason snarled, nails digging into Slade’s wrist. He could feel blood wetting his fingers but Slade didn’t react. “Fucking try it.”

“Jay, buddy,” Slade called again in the softest voice Jason had ever heard him use. “Can you let me know that you’re alright.”

“Why are you two fighting?” Little Jay asked, glaring at them from across the alley. He had dropped his ice cream as well, and he was glancing between them with tears in his eyes. “Do you not like each other?”

“You know him?” Jason asked, easing up a little on Slade’s wrist. “You know Slade Wilson?”

“He’s one of my safe adults,” he said softly. “He looks after me and Buck.”

Jason banged his head against the wall. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Is every single one of your safe adults the most dangerous person you’ve ever met?”

Little Jay nodded happily. “Yup. Super dangerous.”

Slade didn’t move but his eyes darted between them.

“Wanna remove that knife from my gut, old man?”

“Not really,” Slade said with a smirk.

“Slade,” Little Jay whined. “Let Jason go.”

A sharp eye scanned his face. “Jason?”

“In the flesh,” he replied with a cheeky smirk. He was ignoring how hard his heart was pounding and how his palms were sweaty. Slade had been one of the worst of his trainers and being this close to him again made goosebumps break out across his skin. “Now can you let me go?”

Slade watched him with a narrowed eye before finally stepping back. He stashed the knife into a sheath hidden under his t-shirt and smiled down at Little Jay.

“Hey, kid.”

Little Jay darted forward and threw his arms into Slade's waist. “Slade,” he said, sounding incredibly pleased. “I didn't know you were coming to visit. You can’t fight Jason, okay? You’ve got to protect him too.”

“I’m okay,” Jason said as he fixed his clothes, still tensed to pull Little Jay away at the slightest hint of violence. “I don’t need Slade Wilson protecting me.” He tried to keep the disgust from his voice if only for Little Jay who was still staring up at Slade with pure happiness.

Slade placed his head protectively over the back of Little Jay’s head and glared at Jason. “Job finished early, kid. You wanna introduce me to your… friend?”

“Don't you recognise him?” he asked, pulling back from Slade's torso. “It's me, but not me, because he's from an alternate universe, and because Bucky says I'm my own person and so is he, so just because we're technically the same, we're not actually, you know?”

Slade raised an eyebrow.

“Deathstroke,” Jason said with as much attitude as he could drum up despite his pounding heart. “I’d say it’s nice to see you but it’s really not.”

“Jason,” Little Jay said with a growl that he was obviously copying off Slade. “You have to be nice too.”

Jason held up his hands in apology.

Slade didn’t even seem to care. Just kept one hand protectively on Little Jay’s shoulder and said, “Do I know you?”

“You trained me in my universe.” He shrugged when Slade's other eyebrow joined the first. “I’m sure you know what that entails.” He didn't want to go into details with Little Jay right there.

Would every one of Little Jay's adults hate Jason? He knew that eventually it would sour the budding friendship between him and Little Jay; he wouldn't keep liking Jason when everyone else in his life disliked him.

Bruce had stopped liking him as soon as he realized that Dick would never come around. Jason was sure that was the start of the end. Even though he knew Bruce would never have admitted it.

Slade just shook his head, and then focused back on Little Jay, ruffling his hair and smiling down at him. Little Jay didn’t even try to move his head away. He even leaned into the touch.

“Want me to walk you back to the tower?”

He nodded, beaming. “Definitely. And come to dinner. Steve won't mind.”

“He hates me,” Slade said, sounding extremely amused.

“No, he doesn't. He's jealous of how much I like you. There's a difference.” He wrapped his hand around Slade's wrist and started pulling him down the street. “He just doesn't know how great you are.”

Slade watched him fondly, allowing himself to be dragged along.

“How do you know each other?” Jason asked, muscles still loose and ready to attack. He noticed Slade noticing it but he refused to drop the stance. “Seems like a weird friendship.”

Little Jay stepped back and took Jason’s hand as well, swinging both their hands back and forth. “Slade knows Bucky and he tried to protect me last year when these assholes kidnapped me.”

“Tried to protect you ?” Jason spluttered. “As in failed?”

Little Jay shrugged. “They had super soldier tranqs. They hit him with four.” He held up four fingers and then grabbed Jason’s hand again. “And then I still almost got away but my therapist turned out to be Hydra and she stole me.”

Jason’s pulse felt like it was trying to claw out of his throat. “And you were okay?”

He nodded. “Bucky saved me. He always saves me. But if he doesn't, Slade will, right?”

“Yes,” Slade said easily but there was a dark promise to the words. The type of promise Jason had always wanted from Bruce.

Jason glanced between them. “This is so fucking uncomfortable. And weird. You, at least, know how weird this is, right?”

Slade shrugged. “Kid convinced me that he was worth trying for.” He said it easily like he wasn’t blowing Jason’s mind. “I assume I was different in your universe?”

And what a fucking indictment of the lives they lived that Slade had just accepted that so quickly.

“Yeah, you were different,” Jason said quietly. When Little Jay glanced up at him in concern, Jason said with a fake smile, “Definitely didn’t have a kid dragging you down the street.”

Little Jay giggled and his shoulders dropped from their tense hold.

Jason really needed to be better at hiding his fear if he wanted to stay in the apartment. No matter what Bucky said, Little Jay was his son first and Jason knew all about first sons. He was pretty certain the Joker would already be dead if he had killed Dick Grayson.

Slade shot him a grin. It wasn’t as cold or as scary as Jason expected. It was amused, and almost warm. “What can I say? Kid knows how to make you care about him.”

Little Jay’s ears went red. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“I’m gonna call Buck, okay?” He pulled his phone from his pocket. Luckily the fight hadn’t damaged it; he would have been pissed if it had. “Let him know we’re on the way back. Check if he’s done.”

“Let him know Slade is with him. Steve will need time to prepare himself.”

Slade laughed and shook his head like he thought Little Jay was hilarious.

Little Jay grinned and then proceeded to climb up Slade’s body like it was a jungle gym before settling on his shoulders and digging his hands into his hair.

Slade took all of this with a dry expression on his face. “Comfortable?”

“Yup,” he replied, resting his chin on his hands. “I had to give blood. It’s been a hard day.”

“Sure has, kid.” Slade wrapped his hands around Little Jay’s ankles.

Jason slowed down a little, keeping his eyes on both of them, and dialed Bucky’s number. Bucky answered before the phone had even rang twice.

“Jason? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine.” He hadn’t expected the worry in Bucky’s voice. He definitely didn’t expect how it made something warm curl up in his chest. “Is Slade Wilson really one of Little Jay’s adults?”

Bucky laughed. “Is Slade in town? Jaybug must be thrilled.”

“He’s sitting on Slade Wilson’s, Deathstroke's shoulders,” Jason hissed. “Deathstroke.”

“I take it you know him in your world,” Bucky said softly.

“He trained me.” The memories, already too close to the surface after the lab, crowded his brain. He was barely aware of the words he was saying — too lost in the sparring, the harsh words, the way his body ached constantly, and the people he had killed because Slade had told him to. “And he was… I was so angry, I was so goddamn angry, and he knew exactly what buttons to press. How to use it against me. He made me… He…”

He couldn’t explain the cruelty he had suffered at Slade’s hands. At the time it had been fine — well, not fine, but acceptable, because he was making Jason better, stronger.

It was only when he finally escaped Talia that he realized how messed up his training had been. He didn’t regret it, he didn’t, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to spend any time with one of his trainers, and certainly not Slade Wilson.

“It’s fine,” he finally said.

“Oh, pal,” Bucky replied with sympathy in his voice. “We’re done here so we just have to get into the elevator to get to the apartment, okay? I’ll be there when you get home.”

“Thanks,” Jason whispered. “See you soon.”

The walk home wound Jason up and up until he felt like he might snap. Slade and Little Jay chatted away. It was mostly Little Jay telling Slade about the books he was reading, and what he was learning in school, but sometimes Slade would talk about different countries he’d been in and things he had seen. Little Jay ate it up. Jason felt a little sick.

By the time they reached the Tower, Jason wanted to lash out. He wanted to hide.

They walked into the bustling lobby, filled with workers in suits. Heels clicked across the tiles like muffled gunfire. People sat in the chairs with laptops and phones. The coffee shop was busy, and there was a queue of people waiting at the reception desk.

Bucky stood in the center of the lobby with a bubble of calm around him; people seemed to automatically avoid him. Like they recognised his inherent danger without even really processing it.

The tension fell from Jason’s body like water spilling from an overflowing glass. He didn’t even hesitate. Just stepped forward and let himself fall into Bucky’s waiting arms. Bucky wrapped them around him, tight and comforting. Jason let his head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, stealing all the comfort he could.

It was only after he had closed his eyes that he realized he should never have revealed such weakness in front of Slade. He tensed, waiting for the taunting, but nothing came. Bucky must have felt him tense but he didn’t react except to rub his metal hand up and down Jason’s spine until he let himself relax back into the hug.

“Is Jason alright?” Little Jay asked.

“Coure he is,” Bucky replied, voice light. “He just hasn’t had a hug in awhile. Why don’t you and Slade head up to the apartment? Steve is about to start cooking and no one wants that.”

“Oh no,” Little Jay exclaimed dramatically. “We can’t have that. Quick, Slade. To the elevator.”

Slade huffed out a laugh before his footsteps — that Jason knew he was making loud on purpose — disappeared into the noise of the lobby.

Bucky rested his human hand between Jason’s shoulder blades. “You okay, pal?”

He nodded but didn’t move from Bucky’s arms.

“Want to go up to the apartment or want to go somewhere else?”

“Where?” he whispered.

“Coffee shop. Park. Cinema. Restaurant. Rooftop garden. Random office.”

He shook his head. “You trust him?”

“Yeah.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped the back of Jason’s head. “He proved himself more than once. He’s scared of messing up but he keeps trying. Jay adores him. He really did try to save him, and he still hasn’t forgiven himself for failing.”

Jason finally pulled back. “You’ll be there the whole time?”

Bucky nodded. “The whole time.”

“I could fight him. I could probably win if I had my armor and weapons.” He had never beaten Slade, and right now, injured and healing, he didn’t stand a chance, but he needed Bucky to know that he could look after himself. He felt exposed and he hated it. “I could beat him.”

“If Slade touched you, I would kill him,” Bucky said easily. “I almost succeeded once when I was brainwashed. It would be nothing now.”

Jason couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips up. Now he knew about the Joker, he knew that Bucky actually meant what he was saying. It helped get rid of the last of the vibrating tension under his skin.

He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jackets. “I guess we can go up to the apartment then.”

Bucky gripped his shoulder. “We can leave anytime you want to, okay?”

He nodded and let Bucky lead him over to the elevator.

Dinner was fine, if a little stilted.

Steve hadn’t stuck around — had disappeared as soon as Jason arrived back with a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek. Little Jay kept the conversation going even though there was no way he hadn’t noticed how uncomfortable Jason was, and how tense Slade seemed to be. Even Bucky couldn’t hide how often he was checking that Jason was okay.

Jason needed to get his shit together, but even still, he escaped out onto the balcony as soon as he could.

No one wanted to keep the messed up, scared teenager. It was an insult or something; said he didn't trust them. And he didn't but he should be better at hiding it then this. He'd survived the goddamn League of Assassins, for fuck’s sake. This should be a walk in the park. But he was so tired of hiding how he really felt. He just wanted to be safe, and something about Bucky screamed safety.

He had escaped out onto the balcony as soon as he could, had been staring out at the buildings around the Tower lighting up the night sky one by one when Slade had walked past him and leaned against the glass parapet.

He stared out at the city, back to Jason, and said nothing.

Jason considered whether he should run or not. Bucky had only let Jason out here alone because he had promised that he was fine and Little Jay had wanted to tell him all about his trip to Bruce’s lab and all about the ice cream they had gotten as he got ready for bed.

Still, Bucky hadn't looked like he believed Jason even as he let him get away with the lie.

Jason had appreciated that. Less now that he was alone with Slade.

New York was a quiet hum far below them, but the lights of the buildings still blocked out the stars. Jason hadn’t seen any stars since he’d been in Nanda Parbat. He missed them. He used to lay on the roof, body aching from whatever training Talia had put him through, or whatever experiments and torture Ra’s had, staring up and remembering what it was to fly.

Sometimes he missed who he used to be with an ache that made him want to cry.

“You okay, kid?”

Jason jolted, and answered without thinking, “I miss the stars.”

Slade nodded like that made sense. “I have a house in Kentucky. The stars light up the sky at night. I was gonna invite Bucky and Jason down – Little Jay, I mean.”

“He probably hates that name. He’s just too good a kid to complain.”

Slade chuckled. “He made sure to correct me when I didn’t use it. Said his brother gave it to him so I had to use it.”

Jason swallowed around the lump in his throat.

“I was going to invite them camping. Bring Steve too. Clint and Natasha. Let the kid see the stars for once in his life.”

“Did you tell him?”

Slade shrugged. “It’ll wait.”

“Until what?”

“Until you’re comfortable being invited as well.”

Jason took a deep breath, ignoring how it shuddered. He wiped his eyes as casually as he could.

“I know it means nothing, because I’m not him, but I’m sorry for how my counterpart treated you.”

Jason scoffed. “What the hell happened to you, old man? How did you become… soft?”

Slade glanced over his shoulder, grinning. “Little Jay tends to have that effect on people.”

Jason remembered making Batman laugh, remembered how quickly Alfred had warmed up to him, and how even though Dick had never liked him, Babs had eventually come around.

He shrugged. “I guess I remember a time like that before…”

“Before?”

“I died.” He kept his voice neutral, emotionless. It was easier to say it to Slade’s back. “I woke up in my grave. Dug my way out. League of Assassins got me. Took a dip in the Lazarus Pit. Talia sent me on a murder tour of the world. That’s when I met you.”

“What age were you?”

“Just turned fifteen when I died. Everything gets a bit confusing then. Like do we count the time I was dead? I think that was about six months? Wandered around Gotham catatonic for an undetermined amount of time before Talia found me. I think I was maybe sixteen at the start of the murder tour. I was seventeen when she…” He trailed off. “When she sent me back to Gotham,” he managed to finish.

Slade was suddenly crouched in front of him, something complex scrawled across his expression. “When she did what to you, kid?”

Jason stared down at his hands instead of meeting Slade’s eye. “I took over the Gotham crime scene when I was seventeen, maybe? And now I’m in a whole new universe where my birthday is still five months away so who fucking knows?” He grinned bitterly. “I guess I was seventeen. I wanted Batman to kill my murderer. He slit my throat instead.”

“Kid.”

“Haven’t felt like a kid in a long time.”

“I bet.” Slade didn’t touch him but his warmth helped to get rid of some of the chill from Jason’s bones.

He didn’t understand how this version of Slade was so goddamn different. Everything about him had changed: his body language, his gestures, the tone of his voice. The Slade Jason knew was cold, cynical, analytical, and he liked hurting people. This Slade was nothing like that. There was a warmth about him that had nothing to do with how close he was sitting to Jason.

“What did Little Jay do?” Jason asked to change the subject. “How did you become his murder uncle?”

Slade snorted. “Murder uncle.” He shook his head. “I owed the Winter Soldier a favor, so when I heard he’d broken free of his masters, I hunted him down to repay it. He asked me to protect Jay if anything ever happened to him, if Hydra got him again. They were still hunting him, and he wanted to be sure Jay would get somewhere safe. I agreed.

“A few months later, I found out Bucky had been taken so I went to fulfill my favor. Tried to save Jay. I failed.” He scrubbed his hands through his white hair, rocking back and forth on his feet. He was still crouched down, lower than Jason was. “After they had been found, brought back safe, I went to find Bucky and apologize. Jay, when he saw me, ran over and threw himself at me. He didn’t care that I had failed. He only cared that I had tried.”

Jason understood that completely; he desperately, even now, wanted someone to tell him he was worth enough to try. Not tell him. Show him. Prove to him that he was worth something. Worth anything. He couldn’t imagine how much comfort that must have brought to Little Jay.

“Never in my life has trying been enough. Not for my daddy, my ex-wife, the army. None of them. I failed my kids, because there was no point being there, when I knew I would never succeed at being a good father. I never even thought that maybe that was all my kids wanted. For me to be there. For me to try.” He shook his head. “That’s all Little Jay wants from me. That’s enough for him. And as long as I can, I’m going to be here, trying.”

Jason wiped his eyes.

“You know I’m going to do the same for you as well, right? Bucky’s favor stretches to all his kids.”

“I’m not…”

Slade reached up slowly, and when Jason didn’t shift back, he rustled his hair. “Kid, he looks at you like he looks at Jay. Don’t ever doubt it.”

“I don’t know if I want another dad. The last two weren’t exactly steller.”

Slade examined him with the stark blue eye. “Jason, what happened with Talia?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t want to.”

“Okay, kid. You don’t have to.”

Jason grabbed his wrist. “Don’t tell Bucky. Please, Slade. Don’t.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

He nodded and tipped forward, resting his head against Slade’s shoulder, ignoring the prickle of fear at making himself so vulnerable around the man. He didn’t even rock as Jason let his full weight rest on him.

“I’m so tired of being scared.”

Slade’s hand carefully, gently, came up to the back of Jason’s neck. His palm covered the whole of it and his fingers tangled in his curls. “You don’t have to trust Bucky tonight, but you could try, okay? You could just try.”

Jason nodded and let himself fall back into the chair, staring up at the sky. The glass door slid open and Bucky stepped out.

“Everyone okay?”

Slade stood up, patted Jason on the shoulder and walked over to Bucky. “Time I go, I think. I’ll say bye to the kid on the way out.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” he said, stepping further onto the balcony. “He was thrilled.”

“I’ll be back next month. You have my number if anything comes up.”

Bucky nodded.

“Slade?” Jason called just before he disappeared through the door.

Slade turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Maybe we could do the camping trip when the weather heats up. Can’t see it being much fun now.”

Slade smiled, small but pleased. “Yeah, kid. Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter Text

Jason let the following days pass him by in stops and starts.

He lost himself in the quiet of the apartment, in letting his nerves settle after the encounter with Slade, letting his memories float back to the bottom of his brain like silt at the bottom of a lake. Bucky kept giving him gentle touches — shoulder squeezes, kisses on his temple, more hugs — and it was playing havoc with Jason. He hadn’t been touched so gently or so consistently in years. He didn't know if he was angry about it, or devastated.

All he knew was that a tight knot of something in his chest was slowly easing and it hurt like feeling coming back into a numb limb.

He tried not to focus on it too much though; the vulnerability made him want to choke.

Once he found the gym — once Jarvis told him about the gym on one of Jason’s middle of the night wanderings around the Tower — and started burning off energy there, he finally managed to settle back into his skin.

He started going around five am: before Bucky and Little Jay were up, and when he was most likely to find it empty. He was pretty sure Bucky knew what Jason was doing, knew he was sneaking out, but he never mentioned it. Jason appreciated that; Bruce would never let him have any secrets, and Jason liked the chance to have things that were only his again.

Steve found him on his sixth morning in the gym. “Hey, kid.”

Jason froze in his warm up kata. “Did you follow me?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He shrugged but Jason didn’t miss the tense lines of his shoulders and the dark bags under his eyes that the serum hadn’t erased yet.

Jason was pretty sure that Steve would have to be deep into sleep deprivation to have such bruised looking eyes. “How long since you slept?”

Steve’s smile was tight at the edges. “It’s been awhile.” He scrubbed the back of his head. “Look, Jason, I know I messed up when I met you. Two for two,” he said sardonically. “I would really like a chance to try again. I know Jaybug doesn’t have the best things to say about me but I am trying.”

“I think he’s just messing with you,” Jason admitted, not able to help it. Steve just looked so goddamn sad. Like a tiny golden retriever puppy. “It’s funny,” he shrugged.

Steve’s smile brightened slightly. “Oh, okay.”

Jason didn’t roll his eyes — he felt quite proud of himself for the restraint. “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to this. You can do your Captain America Ra Ra dance practice somewhere else. This is where the real sparring happens.”

He laughed. “I could spar with you if you like?”

Jason missed sparring. Missed fighting as much as he didn’t miss the violence. He wanted to fight for fun, like the few times Dick had come back to Gotham and acknowledged Jason’s existence. And if he managed to get over his aversion to Steve then maybe he could come visit the apartment and that would make Bucky happy.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, I guess, but you can’t go easy on me.”

Steve laughed, loud and hearty. “I’ve never gone easy on someone a day in my life.”

“Alright then,” he said as walked over to the mats. He toed off his shoes and got into the ready position as Steve followed him. “Show me how those performance enhancing drugs work.”

Steve rolled his eyes and struck.

He was slightly faster than Slade but definitely less skilled. He had nothing on Bruce or Talia. He was clearly used to using brute strength as his main weapon. He had a strategic mind — Jason knew that from his research but he didn’t have the years long training that Jason did. That’s what happened when you got dropped into a war zone with barely any training.

It was also clear that he was tired.

Jason could see it in his sluggish movements and his slow reaction times.

Jason took any advantage he could — he already knew how to fight the enhanced and part of that was taking any advantage that he could. It helped that he had been studying Steve’s fighting style since the meeting with the Avengers. He knew how to counteract most of his attacks, knew how to force Steve to make sloppy mistakes that the exhaustion made even more exaggerated.

Jason didn’t think he would beat Steve in a fair fight — not without his armour, his weapons, and some of his more explosive toys — but he was pretty certain he could beat him when he was so tired his eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale and drawn.

Jason moved fast but methodically, hitting and weaving and constantly moving When he finally broke through Steve’s meager defenses, he hit as hard as he could, catching Steve on the jaw. When his head jerked back, Jason suckerpunched him in the stomach. He cracked his foot down on Steve’s knee. He grabbed Steve’s arm and flipped him over his shoulder. Steve landed hard on the mat, air pushed out of him in a whoosh of air.

Jason couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his lips. He felt looser than he had since he had arrived, muscles warm and that low simmering anger faded to almost embers. He bounced on his feet like a boxer and shook out his hands as he stared down at Steve.

“Too slow, old man.”

Steve laughed. “You sure showed me,” he said but there was nothing but amusement in his voice. “Good fight.”

Jason was about to reply when slow clapping broke out across the gym.

He jerked around, stepping back to make sure his back wasn’t to Steve.

Natahsa stood in the shadows of the door, watching them. “You move well. You slipped easily past his defenses and used his weaknesses against him. You never let him use his strength to his advantage, but that could have been Steve being gentle on you.”

“Nice as this little evaluation has been, I don’t need a cheap Talia knock off rating my performance.” Jason grabbed a towel from the side of the mat and wiped his face. “Although your lurking is very Batman of you. Great work on the creeping. Ten out of ten. Hey, just a thought, why don’t you fuck off and find a corner somewhere else?”

She just smirked. “Someone spent a lot of time and money training you.”

“Nat,” Steve said sternly as he climbed to his feet. “Now is not the time.”

“The time for what, Steve?” she asked. “All I’m saying is that Jason is well trained.”

He didn’t like how she said his name. Like she still didn’t believe who he was.

“How many missions have you been on?” She took a step forward, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow. “How many people have you killed?”

Jason didn’t reply. He didn’t want to think about the missions he had done with Batman, or heads in a duffel bag. He didn’t want to remember arterial spray or blood shining in the glow of a streetlight.

Nat crooked her head. “I know a way to wipe some of that blood from your ledger.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Bucky said, stepping into the gym, with a glower. “Are you fucking kidding me? I told you both to leave him alone until he was ready.”

Natasha didn’t say anything but she did glare at Jason like this was his fault.

He smirked at her, but his heart wasn’t in it. He had liked coming to the gym, knowing he had a few hours to himself with no one making sure he was okay, or wanting him to do schoolwork with them, or with him having to pretend to be a functional person so no one realized how messed up he truly was.

Bucky watched him as carefully as he ever did. “Alright, new rule,” he said, after a moment of careful consideration. “No one in here between five and seven. That’s Jason’s time now. Jarvis, can you lock down the gym at that time so no one can bother him?”

“I would have to confirm it with Sir, but that should be an acceptable arrangement.”

“Bucky,” Jason said quietly. “You don’t have to—”

“You deserve to be able to workout without these two testing you for their fucking team.”

Jason’s heart started pounding; he didn’t want to be part of another team. He didn’t want to do any of this anymore. Fury, hot and comforting, made his cheeks burn.

“It was a test?” he snapped at Steve. “And here I was being a fucking idiot who just thought you were trying to get to know me.”

“That wasn’t what this was, Jason,” Steve said, taking a step forward. “I swear.”

Natasha laughed, small and mean. “Didn’t think you’d throw me under the bus so quickly, Captain Sunshine, but no, Jason, he didn’t know I was here. I followed him. He’s not one for spatial awareness when he’s that tired.”

“Natalia,” Bucky said, voice cold. “You keep pushing these boundaries, we’re going to have some real problems here, you understand?”

She nodded, something twisting in her expression. “Fine.”

“Steve,” Buck said, turning on Steve. “Don’t approach Jason again. Not without his explicit permission. Understood?”

He nodded, something heartbroken scrawled across his face. “It wasn’t a test. I swear, Buck. I know I keep messing it up with your kids, I know I do, but I promise this wasn’t a test.”

Bucky examined him for a long minute like he was reading Steve’s expression as easily as Little Jay read his books. He finally nodded and some of the tension fell from Steve’s shoulders. “Jason, do you still want to workout?”

Jason shook his head; anger and exhaustion were warring inside him. He wanted everyone to just leave him alone and the only place he would find that right now was his bedroom with the door locked. He grabbed his shoes and walked over to the door. He didn’t speak to any of them as he headed for the elevator.

He’d figure out a different way to work out.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said to Bucky, hours later after he had finally left his room. He lasted a minute before he said brusquely, “You didn’t have to do that. I don’t need you to protect me.”

Bucky just shrugged.

“Don’t do that,” Jason snapped. “Don’t just stop talking and shrug and act like you know best. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to try and control me. You’re not in charge of me.”

Bucky put down his spatula and took the frying pan off the heat. He turned around and leaned against the counter. “I’m not in charge of you. I will never try to control you. Not ever,” he said with a fierceness that Jason didn’t expect. “I wasn’t talking because you said you didn’t want to talk about it and I was respecting that. But if you want to talk, I’m happy to. I’m always happy to talk to you.”

“Shut up,” Jason snarled. “You can’t just do that. You can’t just…” He shook his head, lost for words. “Stop being so—” He flailed at Bucky where he stood so calmly, arms crossed loosely. “You can’t just keep saving me. You won’t always be there, and then what? I become reliant on you and then you won’t turn up on time and I’ll… I’ll…” His voice cracked and his eyes filled with tears. “I can’t wait for you to save me. I can’t.”

Bucky examined him. “Jay, kid, can I hug you?”

Jason shook his head but he couldn’t help but take a step forward.

“I can’t,” he said with a quiver in his voice. “I can’t rely on you. What if something happens and you’re not there?”

Bucky went to reach for Jason but dropped his hand before it was even halfway up. It looked like it was killing him but he still didn’t touch Jason. He respected Jason’s boundaries. He always did.

“I can’t promise to always be there, to make it on time, but there is never going to be a time that I’m not trying to get there. And if you live the life that I’d love you to choose — the one with school and college and books and safety — then hopefully I won’t ever need to fight that fight.”

Jason took another step forward.

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. “But if somebody took you, I would tear down the earth to find you. I would never stop looking, and if I did make it too late, I would kill anyone who caused you even a moment of pain. That I can promise you.”

Jason threw himself into Bucky’s arms and clung to his henley. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have any words. He just felt another piece of that something he’d been feeling since he agreed to stay slot into place.

Little Jay finally got up as Jason was setting the table.

He stumbled out of his room, hair a riot on top of his head, and took the plate of food Bucky handed him. He sat down beside Jason and said, “Do you want to come for a walk with me today?” He rested his head in his hand and grinned at Jason. “We could get a book each. I bet Bucky will pay for it as a treat because… I had to give blood last week?” He scrunched his nose like he wasn’t sure if the argument rang true.

Bucky sat down, laughing. “Sure, Jaybug. You and Jason can go out for lunch and get a book each.”

Little Jay beamed. “Thanks, dad.”

Bucky’s smile was soft enough that Jason had to look down at his food. He felt like he was intruding until Bucky ruffled his hair.

“Eat up and you can head out. Give me time to clean the apartment a bit.”

Little Jay’s head shot up. “We can help. You don’t have to clean alone.”

“We can definitely help,” Jason said, still feeling raw after the early morning conversation. He should never have said those things to Bucky, never have revealed that much of himself. “I can definitely help.”

“And I appreciate that, I really do, but I want you two to have a nice day together. Be kids for once.” He finished his food and grabbed their empty plates. “Go, have fun.” He pulled out his wallet and gave Jason two twenties. “Book and hot dogs.” He gave Little Jay a twenty. “Book.”

Little Jay grinned up. “Two books if they’re on sale.”

Bucky laughed. “As many books as you can manage for twenty dollars. Impress me.”

They had barely gone three blocks when two men appeared in front of them, sneering and contemptuous. The street was mostly empty. No one to see. No one to call the cops.

And Jason had recognised their brand of asshole immediately.

Asshole one lifted his shirt to show the gun sitting in the waistband of his jeans. “In the alley,” he growled. “Now.”

Jason wanted to fight; his very first instinct was to fight.

But then Little Jay whimpered and all fight disappeared.

Before he could pull Little Jay behind his back, Asshoel two grabbed him by the bicep and over to him. “How about we keep this one close so that you cooperate? Sounds good?”

White, hot rage exploded across Jason’s skin like goosebumps. He nodded but only so he could get them off the street. Little Jay had gone silent and still — Jason recognised it as something he did as well. He was pretty sure it was a trauma response, and he fucking hated it.

Asshole one pressed his gun into Jason’s back, and pushed him. “C’mon, rich kids.” He gestured at the alley. “In ya go. Don’t try anything, kid, and we’ll just be fine.”

Jason didn’t say anything. Just kept his eyes on what he could see of Jay.

Once they were in the alley, Asshole Two held Little Jay in front of him and smirked at Jason. “Here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to give us your wallet and phone. Then we'll leave you be.”

Jason nodded. “We’re okay, Jay,” he said, fighting to keep the anger from his voice. He hoped that the quiver would come across as fear instead of near blinding rage. “I’m right here.”

“Don’t talk to him,” Asshole Two snarled, whipping them around and shoving his gun into Little Jay’s temple. “We want money and we want it now.”

“We don't have any money,” Jason said because they didn't — only the money Bucky had given them. “We have about forty between us and our phones are shit.”

They weren't but Stark had designed them to look like they weren't worth anything. A rare show of intelligence, Bucky had said, when Jason questioned the crappy looking phone he'd been given. It was so high-tech it wasn't even near market release but it looked like something from a decade earlier. Under the radar in a way Stark rarely was.

“With clothes like that,” Asshole One said, coming around from behind Jason and gesturing with his gun. “How stupid do you think we are?”

Jason was trying to keep his temper in check, because their clothes weren't even that nice, but every time Asshole Two made Jay flinch from how hard he had the gun pressed to his skull, Jason felt like he might snap.

He didn’t have any moves, not with a gun at Little Jay’s temple and a trigger happy fuck holding it. Alone, back in Gotham he wouldn’t have cared, they would already be unconscious, but now it felt desperately important to keep Little Jay safe.

“You can have the money,” he said, slowly moving his hand to his pocket. “I'm gonna get my wallet out, okay?”

Asshole One nodded. “Slowly. No sudden moves.”

Before Jason could reach for his pocket, blue and red landed in front of them. For one moment, he thought it was Superman, but then he recognised the suit.

Spiderman.

“You know it's not very nice to point guns at children.”

Jason did his best not to be insulted.

Both guns were suddenly pointing at Spiderman. He laughed. “That’s more like it.” He flipped his wrist. The white string landed on Little Jay’s chest. Spiderman pulled him forward, catching him before either man reacted.

“Finally” Jason muttered, checking one last time that Spiderman had Little Jay safe, before he snapped around and headbutted Asshole One.

He aimed for the nose, and was satisfied by the sharp crack of it breaking. He ducked under the swing of a messy punch and slammed his boot into the man’s sternum. Asshole one landed on the ground hard, head bouncing with the impact. Jason swung around, and once he saw Spiderman ushering Little Jay to safety, he went for Asshole Two, because the fucker hadn’t had the sense to run.

For the first time in weeks, Jason wished he had his helmet. Wished he had his Red Hood reputation. Just so he could see the man piss himself in fear instead of swinging his gun around, trying to figure out who he should hit.

He heard two yells behind him as he tackled the man to the ground and punched him. He kept punching him and punching him and punching him. He felt like he did after the pit; out of control and soaked in vicious green. Bones shattered under his hands as the man groaned weakly. He had already stopped fighting back.

Two arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him easily off the mugger.

“Your brother needs you,” Spiderman said as he grunted against Jason’s struggling. “Stop. You have to stop. He needs you. He’s scared.”

Jason tried to shove Spiderman’s hands off. “Get off me,” he hissed. He couldn’t think about how he looked — blood soaking his hands and face, clothes drenched in it, and anger clear on his face. He needed to get to his brother. “Let me go.”

Spiderman released him, and before Jason was even settled on the ground, Little Jay came bolting over to him. He slammed into Jason’s chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

“You protected me,” he said into Jason’s jumper. “You kept me safe.”

Jason knelt down, and tried not to look at the half destroyed face of the man on the other side of the alley. Tried not to notice how Spiderman was checking his pulse with a shaking hand. Asshole One was still groaning but Spiderman had stuck him to the ground with some sort of glue that was holding him in place.

Asshole Two whined and the noise gurgled.

Jason tried not to shudder. “We’ve gotta get out of here, little man. Before the police come.”

Spiderman finally stood up, phone out. “I have to call them now.”

“At least give us a head start,” Jason said with little humor. “Unless you want to arrest me yourself?”

Spiderman did a full head eye roll.

“Why would he arrest you? You saved me. You were protecting me.“ Little Jay inched around from behind Jason. “Who are you?”

Jason was starting to think that maybe Bucky hurting all those people for Little Jay had given him a distorted idea of what was and wasn’t appropriate force. Even Jason knew not to kill some muggers who were probably just trying to feed themselves.

Asshole Two gurgled.

Well, he mostly knew.

“I'm Spiderman.” He crouched down in front of Little Jay so that they were level with each other. “Are you okay? Looked like your big brother was doing a good job of keeping you safe.”

Jason was pretty sure only he could hear the uncertainty and horror in Spiderman’s voice; he was pretty certain any chance of a friendship between them — as tiny and fragile as the possibility had been — had faded with every vicious punch Jason had thrown.

“He can fight really well,” Little Jay said proudly.

“I saw,” he replied, with a shaking voice that he coughed away.

Jason could swear he felt his eyes trailing over him.

Spiderman bounced on the balls of his feet. “Protecting you was important.”

Little Jay nodded. “Bucky, our dad, always says that the most important thing is to stay safe and come home to him. And if we can’t, he’ll come and get us.”

Spiderman glanced up at him again, and Jason knew that if he hadn't been wearing a mask, he would have seen the recognition scrawled across Spiderman's face.

“He sounds like a real good dad.”

Jason tried not to react to how Little Jay had called Bucky his dad as well. He had had two dads so far in his life and both had tried to kill him. Willis with his fists and Bruce with his goddamn mission. He didn’t know if he had it in him to try for a third time. Fool him once and all that. Although, Little Jay would probably say something about third time being the charm.

Spiderman stood up and rubbed the back of his head. “I don't usually work around here,” he said to Jason, moving back and forth on restless feet, “but I just started col… I just moved to the area and I heard the commotion.”

Jason nodded, mouth feeling suddenly dry. He was still figuring out what to say when Little Jay pushed forward again.

“You just started college?” he asked with intense curiosity. “Where are you going? What are you studying? What grades did you need to get in? Did you get a scholarship? What are the lectures like? Are you living in the dorms?”

Jason wrapped an arm around Little Jay's shoulder and gave him a light shake. “C'mon, kid,” he said. “You know he can't answer that without compromising his identity. And we’ve got to get these guys some medical attention. You know how it works.”

“But, Jason, they tried to mug us,” he whined. “And I've never met someone who goes to college.”

Spiderman crouched down again and tilted his head at Little Jay. “Despite your alarmingly casual reaction to an insane amount of blood, your brother’s right. We’ve got to get these men some help.”

“We’re from Gotham,” Little Jay said with a shrug. “This is like a Monday morning amount of blood.”

Spiderman spluttered. “Well, isn’t that horrifying.” He shook his head and seemed to actively have to work out what to say next.

Spiderman had a nice voice, and a skintight suit that Jason had been too busy freaking out and critiquing the last two times to really appreciate. He was freaking out today as well, but instead of concentrating on that, he was currently discovering a whole lot of things about himself.

“I’m going to ring for an ambulance,” Spiderman said. “And then, I can't answer any of the identifying questions about college, but I can answer some general ones if you want.”

Little Jay's eyes went wide. “Really? Wanna come back to the Tower with us? Bucky will probably make you a whole meal when he finds out you helped us.”

At the mention of the Tower, of Bucky, reality washed over Jason as swiftly and violently as the few times he had been waterboarded. There was just there was no way the fucking Avengers were going to let him back into the Tower now. Not with the man he had beaten half to death still lying on the sidewalk. Not when he had barely been able to protect Little Jay even with all his training. Not with the stark reminder of who he really was in all that blood staining the pavement.

He was fucked.

Again.

Spiderman glanced between them. “The Tower?”

“Stark Tower,” Jason said, voice rougher than he had expected.

“As in Avengers Tower?” Spiderman put his hands up and took a step back. “So, as an unsanctioned and independent vigilante, I should probably avoid the Avengers, ya know? Definitely shouldn't have revealed myself to their kids.” He glanced at Jason. “Kids?”

“I'm pretty sure I'm your age,” Jason said.

“I'm nineteen.”

“And I'm eighteen in four months. Also unsanctioned vigilantism is kind of my thing.”

Little Jay nodded. “Jason is so cool. He could probably kick your ass.”

“We’ve fought,” Spiderman said begrudgingly. “He won.”

Jason laughed.

“Well, I mean, not really, because super strength,” Spiderman said with a little defensiveness in his voice. “Oh and speed. I could have flipped you at any time.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Still pinned you.” Asshole Two’s breathing was starting to get thready. “You should probably call an ambulance for him before he drowns in his own blood.”

“Gross,” Little Jay whispered with a very Gotham level of glee.

Spiderman glanced up at the roof. “I know you seem to like rooftops so you could go up there while I deal with the cops? I can carry the kid up too?”

“Hey! I'm ten. I'm not a kid.”

“Sorry,” Spiderman said, holding up his hands. “Totally not a kid.”

Little Jay nodded his head seriously. “Good. Because Bucky thinks I could be in college in like two years so there.”

Before Spiderman could answer, Jason interrupted, “Thanks for the help, but I'm not trusting Jay with a stranger in a Spandex uniform that doesn't even have armor. We can get up the fire escape ourselves. Not like it's hard. It’s practically a hobby in Gotham.”

“Sure,” Spiderman said easily. “That seems like a totally normal way to pass the time.”

With a shake of his head, Spiderman jumped up and pulled down the fire escape ladder. He could jump extremely high from a flat starting position. Jason tried not to be jealous.

“I’ll call the police and an ambulance. I’ll say you guys ran off. We can watch from up here,” he called down from where he was balancing in the thin rail on the balls of his feet. One of the men groaned. “Oh, yeah, I should definitely call an ambulance.” Spiderman rubbed the back of his head again. “Maybe I’ll wait until we’re all up on the roof before I call it in.”

“Will that hold?” Jason asked, nodding at the white substance.

Spiderman shrugged as he stared down at them from the fire escape. “It’ll hold forever if I wanted.”

Jason's hands started shaking as he scaled the fire escape. Little Jay was chatting excitedly in front of him; Jason couldn’t get enough air in. He suddenly, desperately wanted to talk to Bucky.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that instinct so he ignored the sensation to instead focus on the way his pulse was racing. They were halfway up the fire escape when he realized what was about to happen, but he finished the climb, listening to Little Jay talk about all the questions he was about to ask.

His heart was pounding so fast, he felt like it might explode out of his chest.

Spiderman was staring at him when he appeared over the edge of the roof. He took a step forward but Jason shook his head.

“I need to call Bucky,” he managed, voice only slightly breathless. Not enough for an excited kid to notice. “Why don’t you ask Spiderman your questions and I’ll be over once I let him know why we’re going to be late.”

“Okay,” he said with a grin.

“Ambulance is on the way,” Spiderman said gently as he guided Little Jay to the other side of the roof, as far away from Jason and his pounding heart as he could manage.

Jason watched as they settled against an AC unit and started chatting. When he was sure Little Jay was safe, he dropped down behind a brick structure and dug out his phone with a shaking hand. It only took three rings for Bucky to pick up.

“Jason?”

“I can’t breathe,” he managed.

“Okay, pal. You’re okay.” Bucky’s voice was almost instantly soothing; Jason was going to miss him when Bucky kicked him out. “Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“The ground. The sky. A shadow. My hand. A window.”

“Good. That’s good.” He heard Bucky moving about in the apartment; the shuffling of material and the sound of a door shutting. He said something away from the mouthpiece that Jason couldn't hear, and then said to Jason, “Four things you can touch.”

“My sweater is scratchy. My leather jacket is soft. My jeans are rough. The ground is hard.”

“And three things you can hear?”

“You. Little Jay. Traffic.”

“You’re doing so good, bud. So good.” Wherever Bucky had moved, it sounded loud all of a sudden. Almost like he was outside as well. “Two things you can smell.”

A rough laugh tore from Jason’s chest. “It’s New York, Buck. What can’t I smell?”

“Alright, that’s fair enough.” It sounded like he had a smile in his voice. His breathing was slightly faster. “You breathing okay?”

“Yeah.” His hands had stopped shaking too, and his heart wasn’t trying to escape his chest anymore either. “I’m okay.”

A car horn exploded in the background of Bucky’s call. He cursed and asked, “What happened?”

The worry in his voice made Jason want to cry. “Little Jay is okay. I made sure he was okay. He’s safe now too. I didn’t leave him alone.”

“I didn’t doubt it for a second. I’m more worried about you, Jay, kid. Just you. Tell me what happened.”

“We got mugged and I couldn’t do anything because there was a gun to Little Jay’s temple.”

Bucky growled furiously. “There was a what?”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said, wiping his eyes. “Spiderman arrived and he distracted them, got Little Jay free, and I… Bucky, I hurt the guy really bad.”

“Good.”

“You don’t mean that,” Jason insisted. “You can’t. No one ever means it.”

“Oh, Jason, buddy.”

Bucky was suddenly kneeling down in front of him, face creased into a concerned frown. His skin shined in the weak sunlight with sweat and his breathing wasn’t even yet. Like he had run to find Jason.

Again.

Jason wasn’t sure if he actually believed his own eyes. “Bucky?”

“Hey, kid.”

Jason blinked back tears — Bucky was actually there, on the roof, taking Jason’s phone away from his ear and pulling him into a hug. Jason hadn’t even asked him to come. He hadn’t even thought of that as an option. The fact that Bucky always answered the phone was already more than Jason had ever expected from him.

Jason stopped fighting the tears. “I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispered. “I just want it to stop.”

“I know, buddy. I know.”

It took him a long time to calm down, but once he did, he pulled away from Bucky and wiped his eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Never have to apologise to me, pal.” He gripped Jason’s shoulders with those contrasting hands of his that made Jason feel so safe. “C’mon, we go see how Jaybug is doing.”

“He didn’t see that I was upset. I made sure.”

Bucky pressed their foreheads together. “You are allowed to… fuck, Jay, kid. You are so goddamn important and you don’t even realise it.”

Jason shook his head gently, careful not to disrupt Bucky’s closeness. He was starting to get addicted to all the soft touches he was receiving and he didn't want to do anything that might make them stop.

Bucky kept giving and giving. Maybe he wouldn't ever stop.

Finally, when Jason felt like he wasn’t going to fall apart, he pulled away. “Okay,” he managed. “Let’s check on him.”

“Bucky,” Little Jay cheered when he saw him. “I made a new friend and he goes to college and he was telling me all about it.”

Spiderman stood up, white mask eyes finding Jason, like he was making sure he was okay, before he glanced back at Bucky. He waved awkwardly.

“Hey. Hi. Hello. I’m Spiderman. I interrupted the mugging. I was telling Little Jay about college. I think we met the other week. Only I didn't realise who you are.” He bounced on his feet like an excited child. “You’re Bucky Barnes. Holy shit. I am freaking out, man. I think you’re awesome. I did like every paper in middle school on you.” He waved his hands around a little. “So like I deep dived the whole Hydra thing, and I knew, I just knew, it was you. This is so awesome.”

Bucky looked completely nonplussed.

Little Jay grinned like Spiderman had just handed him the keys to the city. “Spiderman helped us, Buck, but Jason kept me safe and stopped those men. He doesn’t even have super powers, but Spiderman does, so even though it was nice that he helped us, it doesn’t really count, you know? But he likes you which means he’s still pretty cool and he goes to college.”

Bucky seemed to have shook off his confusion when he smiled and ruffled Little Jay’s hair. “Pretty cool, buddy. I think it’s time we let Spiderman go though. He probably has other things to do.” He sounded uncomfortable. Like maybe Spiderman’s praise wasn't as much of a compliment as he meant it to be. “Thanks for saving my kids.”

“It’s what I do.” Spiderman said with a shrug. “And yeah, I mean I definitely have to go. I have class, and I have assignments, and hopefully no more people to save from muggings.” Spiderman rubbed the back of his head. Again. He really needed to get rid of his tells. They were so obvious. “It was really nice to meet you, Little Jay. I hope you get to go to whichever college you want to. Jason…” He trailed off. “It was cool to see you again. Sergeant Barnes.” He saluted sloppily, before backflipping off the building and reappearing a few seconds later, flying through the air on that white glue stuff.

Webbing, Jason suddenly realized. It was webbing.

Little Jay turned around with a huge grin on his face. “He was so awesome. Wasn’t he, Jason? Wasn’t he awesome?”

Jason nodded. “He was something alright.”

He ignored Bucky’s eyes on him as he watched Spiderman disappear between two buildings, a blur of red and blue.

Chapter Text

Jason didn’t talk to Bucky when they got back to the apartment.

After he showered and watched the water turn from red to pink to clear, he escaped to his room, locked the door and ignored when either Bucky or Little Jay came knocking. He replied to one of Bucky’s texts asking if he was okay, and then switched off his phone.

He didn’t want to hear Bucky gently, or otherwise, explain to him why he couldn’t stay in the apartment any longer, and why he didn’t deserve any help setting himself up outside of it. He didn’t want to hear the disgust and disappointment when Bucky listed all the ways he had hurt those men, all the ways he had failed.

So he hid in a way that he hadn’t since he was twelve, and made sure his go bag was ready.

He didn’t have that many books in his room but he had enough to stop his thoughts from overwhelming him in the long hours of the night. Instead of sleeping, he kept reading. Just one more page. Over and over and over and over.

Dawn took him by surprise.

And it took him a long time after the sun had broken the horizon to gather up his courage and leave his room.

Little Jay was already sitting at the table, legs swinging and head down, when Jason finally walked into the kitchen. He had pages laid out in front of him and was coloring with an expression of deep concentration. There were stacks of paper beside him. The top one had a bright red A on it.

Jason walked over, hands tucked into his pockets and slumped down on a seat. “What are you up to, little man?”

Little Jay glanced up, grinned, and then went back to coloring a huge N. “Spiderman said if I put up a sign on the balcony, he would try and come to visit.”

“I thought he wanted to avoid the tower?” Jason kept his voice steady but there was a hummingbird sitting in his gut. He was surprised he could feel anything but the mounting dread that this would be the last time he and Little Jay got to talk alone. “I thought he was afraid of the Avengers.”

Little Jay shrugged with a forced casualness that did nothing to hide the big smile stretching across his lips. “I think he liked us so much that he decided he would totally come visit and talk to me about college more.”

Jason hid his grin in the collar of his hoodie. “That was nice of him.”

Jay shrugged again. Super casually. “It was when you were calling Bucky.” He finished on one page, and started on the next. This time he was drawing a big spider. For some reason, the spider seemed to be smiling and waving. “Will you get the Scotch tape? This is the last one.”

“I’ll get it in a second,” he replied, picking up his own marker and drawing a matching spider on another page. He made his spider frown and gave him grumpy eyebrows.

“Jason,” Little Jay said, giggling. “We can’t hang that up. He’ll think we’re mean.”

“How we put my name on this one and your name on that one so Spiderman knows I’m the cranky one.”

“I guess,” he said as Bucky shuffled out from the bedroom, still half asleep. “Hey, Buck.”

Bucky threw an arm around Jason’s shoulder as he passed, pressing a distracted kiss into his temple, before he gave Little Jay a forehead kiss.

Jason wasn’t sure if Bucky meant to hug him; maybe he hadn’t remembered what Jason had done the day before? Maybe Bucky was still half asleep, and once he woke up properly, he would withdraw his kind touches like Bruce used to withdraw into silence when he was disappointed in Jason?

“What ya doing?” Bucky asked as he wandered into the kitchen and started rooting through the fridge.

Jason listened as Little Jay explained to Bucky what the paper said and what he planned to do with it. His head tingled from Bucky’s gentle affection but it felt like his heart was breaking with the certainty that this was his last morning with them. At any point the Avengers would turn up and throw him in prison or some secret black site for universal anomalies that were too dangerous to be allowed to wander around in the real world.

“That sounds really good, Jaybug.” Bucky grinned, and the last of the tiredness slipped from his eyes. “ “Eggs okay?”

“Eggs are okay,” Jason mumbled when Bucky glanced at him. Before Bucky could say anything else to him, Jason got up in search of the tape.

It took them a while to get the hello spiderman sign to hang exactly how Little Jay wanted, but eventually he was satisfied. Their spiders sat on either end like a full stop. They had just finished when Bucky called them in for breakfast.

Jason looked out at the balcony as he listened to Little Jay and Bucky chat, hoping just a little that Spiderman might actually come for a visit before he was kicked out.

The rest of the day passed slowly.

Jason didn’t leave the apartment. Maybe Bucky’s ban was still in effect, and if Jason stayed inside, no one could take him away. Hours had passed and he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was jittery after the mugging, brain telling him all the awful ways it could have gone, and what might have happened to Little Jay, not to mention the anxiety from waiting for the verdict on where he was going next — jail or the streets.

He was also second guessing how he had reacted. He kept thinking about the moves he should have pulled, his reaction time, the fact he had to rely on another vigilante to get him out, and all the better ways he could have taken down the gunmen. None of them guaranteed Little Jay’s safety but his brain wouldn’t stop anyway.

It would never stop.

Ongoing nerves weren’t something he was used to after a fight like that but he couldn’t get his nervous system to regulate. Not using League meditation techniques. Not even using Bruce’s meditation techniques.

Eventually, exhausted after his lack of sleep the night before and the stress eating away at him, he crawled back into bed around late afternoon and slept.

It was dark when he woke up.

He groaned as he got up and wandered out of his bedroom. Little Jay was definitely asleep, it was a little after eleven, but Bucky was reading on the couch. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Jason. The reaction was still so unfamiliar that it made his steps stutter a little.

“Hey, pal. You okay? You’ve been quiet today.” He examined Jason, head to toe. “I’m worried about you, bud.”

Jason’s heart stuttered. “When is the judgment coming?” he demanded, not able to handle the waiting anymore. Talia used to make him wait for whatever punishment she was dishing out and it was the worst part of his training. “Just tell me so I know what’s going to happen to me.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and put his book down. “Judgment?”

“For what I did yesterday.” He imitated Batman’s growl when he said, “You used undue force, and hurt a civilian to a dangerous degree. You didn’t check your punches. You relied on someone you didn’t know to protect a child. You didn’t secure the weapons. You’re a liability. A danger to others. A failure.” He hated that his voice broke on the last word.

Bucky stood up slowly like he was approaching a spooked animal. “Jay, kid, not only did I make Stark remove any digital proof that either of you were there, I went down to the hospital last night, and paid those assholes a visit. Neither of them will be saying a thing about you, and they won't be mugging anyone else any time soon.”

Jason took a step forward. “Are they okay?”

“They’re both going to be fine.” He smiled but it was cold. Nothing like what he directed at Little Jay or Jason. “I just gave them a friendly warning about not mugging children.”

“But what about the others? The Avengers. They already hate me. Natasha has got to be pushing to kick me out.”

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “None of them hate you. None of them want you gone.” He pulled Jason into a hug. “And if anyone tried to make you leave, me and Jaybug would leave with you. Get an apartment in Clint’s building. We don’t need them. They need us, okay?”

“You won’t kick me out? Lock me in a black site?”

“No. Never.” Bucky pulled him tighter. “Are you okay?”

Face still buried in the crook of Bucky’s shoulder, he nodded. “Yeah, I feel… better now actually. Thanks, Buck.”

“You know I’m proud of you, right?”

He pulled back in shock. “What?”

“Yesterday, you took care of Little Jay; you could have fought straight away, could have ignored the risks, but you chose to keep him safe instead. And when he was safe, you put those bastards down.” He ruffled Jason’s hair. “You have no idea how much that meant to me. Even more, you called me.” He shook his head. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.”

A blush heated Jason’s cheeks. “Thanks for coming,” he whispered.

“Always.”

He couldn’t stand the sincerity in Bucky’s voice so he said, “I think I might go down to the common room. Get some food.”

Bucky nodded like he understood. “Jaybug and I made muffins earlier. You should grab them before the rest of them get back from their mission.”

“Muffins sound good.”

Bucky’s smile brightened like Jason had just offered him a million dollars. “You got your phone?”

“Even though I’m literally taking the elevator three floors down —” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I have my phone.”

Bucky laughed. “Alright, call me if you need anything.”

“Sure will, Buck,” Jason called, not able to help the grin that pulled at his lips when Bucky laughed again at the dry tone Jason had used.

He felt almost light in a way he couldn’t remember feeling in a very long time. All the nerves and jitters were gone after his talk with Bucky. He had done his best. Bucky had said so. Bucky was proud of him, and it had been so long since anyone had said something like that to him, and not meant it in a derogatory way.

Jarvis opened the elevator before he pressed the button. “Where to, sir?”

“Common room, please.” The manners came back as easily as they had when he was speaking to Alfred. “Wait. Is there anyone in there?”

“No, sir, everyone is out on missions.”

“Okay. Thanks.” The elevator’s doors closed and it slid down so softly that Jason couldn’t even tell it was moving. He pulled his book from his back pocket and leaned back against the wall, reading the same poem he had been reading before he fell asleep.

Jarvis opened the doors with a quiet ding. “Your floor, sir.”

“Thanks, Jar.”

“That is not my name, sir.”

“It’s a nickname,” Jason answered with a grin. “It’ll catch on, you’ll see.”

“Indeed, sir.”

Jason laughed quietly and moved over to the counter. He grabbed two muffins and switched on the kettle. As he waited for it to boil, he read the poem again. He had found a copy of Crush by Richard Siken on the shelves in the sitting room. One of the lines wouldn’t leave his head and he had read the poem over and over again.

And a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting. This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.

Jason didn’t want to make a wish. He wanted Bruce to choose him. Wanted Bruce to want him. He wanted Joker to be dead. He wanted the dead man at his feet to be the Joker. He had wanted his dad to show him that he loved him. Wanted someone, anyone, to show him that he was worth even that much.

He closed the book. Put it down. Pushed it away from him. He made a cup of tea and grabbed his muffins, wishing he had brought a second book. He was just about to bite into what he knew were Little Jay’s third attempt at chocolate chip muffins when he felt the change in the air that only an ex-Robin would notice.

He jerked up and spun around.

“Jack Bennett. You assaulted two men yesterday. Both of which ended up in hospital. You used excessive force on them. You are trained. You are dangerous,” Batman growled. “You have no history in this world. Who are you? How did the Winter Soldier get another child?” He took a step forward, moving free of the shadows that seemed to drape over him like deep black cloth. “Tell me before I take you in.”

Anger and fear warred inside Jason until he was choking with them; his hand shot up to his throat. He was sure he could feel hot, soaking blood flowing through his fingers.

“Stay away from me.”

He struggled with his sweats — too much goddamn material — before he finally found his phone. He unlocked it with shaking hands and just about managed to hit Bucky’s number.

Batman took another step forward. Jason stumbled back and hit the counter behind him. The stool slammed down onto the ground with a bang. The phone had stopped ringing, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t form words over the overwhelming panic drowning his system.

“Tell me who you are,” Batman growled. “Answer me.”

Jason whined — breathless, chest tight.

And then, suddenly, Bucky stood in front of him, blocking Jason from Batman’s view.

“Jay, kid. I need you to let go of your throat, okay? Just so you can take a breath.”

Jason shook his head, hand clamped down. If he let go, he would bleed out. He would die. Batman had broken his no killing rule, and it wasn’t for the Joker.

It was for his son.

He whimpered.

“C’mon, kid, one breath.” Bucky tried to pry his hand off his throat but Jason panicked, shaking his head. “I promise you’ll be okay. I promise. Just let go of your throat. You’re choking yourself.”

Jason stared at his icy blue eyes and swallowed. He slowly, slowly, slowly, released his throat. It was easier to breathe once he did, but he didn’t understand why.

“Bucky,” he whispered. “He’s… I can’t, Bucky… Please.”

“Stay behind me, okay? I’ll sort this out.” He turned slowly, staying so close that Jason could feel the warmth of him.

He felt small, and scared, in a way he hadn’t in such a long time. He clutched the back of Bucky’s hoodie because he was the only thing keeping him standing. Bucky pressed his back against Jason’s chest. Jason wished he could hide his face in Bucky’s shoulder but his training refused to let him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bat?” Bucky snarled. “What the fuck are you doing scaring my kid like that?”

Something released in Jason’s chest at the casual way Bucky claimed him. Even if he didn’t think he could be anyone’s kid. Not anymore. Not after last time.

“How did you even get another child? A violent, trained child? This is unacceptable. You should never have been allowed to take in Jason Todd. You should have relinquished him to me. I could have given him a home.”

“And made him Robin?” Jason snapped, pushing out from behind Bucky as furious rage finally burned away his fear. “Do you want to know where that path leads? Do you? Because it’s not him growing up safe and loved. It ends in a warehouse with Joker beating him most of the way to death and then blowing him up. It ends with him in the grave at fifteen.”

“Who are you?” Batman growled.

“Don’t recognise me?” Jason stepped forward into the light. “Because I’m the version of Jason Todd that got adopted by you. I’m the one who had to crawl from his own grave. Don’t think for a second I would ever let you anywhere near that kid. I’ll fucking fight you, and I’ll win.”

Batman barely shifted but Jason knew he was preparing to strike. “You really believe that you could beat me?”

“To protect Little Jay? I’d fucking destroy you. I know all your secrets, Bruce Wayne. Don’t you fuckin doubt it.”

“You told him my identity?” Batman snarled at Bucky.

Bucky stood by Jason, arms crossed but posture loose. “I didn’t tell him anything. He is Jason Todd. Just from another universe. He was your Robin, and you cut his throat to save the Joker. Not gonna lie,” he said with a smirk, “I’m feeling pretty damn good about my decision not to give Little Jay to you.”

Jason managed to stay where he was when Batman took another step closer. “Go away. Leave us alone,” he said fiercely. “We don’t want or need your type of help.”

“I won’t make him or you Robin. I have a Robin.”

“Yeah, but Dick wants to leave, right? You’re getting into more and more arguments. You're scared one day he’ll be gone and you’ll be all alone in that cave of yours. Scared that he’ll die like your parents did. So you hold tighter and tighter.” He wanted to shake the man in front of him, force him to see exactly the damage his stubbornness was causing. “He’s an acrobat, Bruce. You’ve got to let him fly or you’re going to lose him.”

“You know nothing.”

“I know you and Talia had a son. She didn’t have that miscarriage. She lied. The boy, Damian. Fuck, I doubt he's even two yet.” He scrubbed his hands through his hair. “You have the chance to save him from being raised in the League. A chance to give him a normal life. Fuck, Bruce. You have to be better. You have to save them: Tim Drake and Damian Al Ghul. You’ve got to give them a home if they need it and help them if they don’t.”

He stepped forward, and shoved his finger into the bat on the costume. This wasn’t his Bruce. This was a child. A barely developed version of who he knew.

“You need some fucking therapy, and you need to be better. You can’t keep putting your mission in front of everything else because nothing is getting better and your kids are suffering. You need to save them, Bruce. You need to save someone. Anyone.”

“I didn't save you,” Bruce said, all Batman growl gone from his voice. “I lost you.”

Jason nodded. “I died, and you replaced me within six months. Don’t do that to Dick, or Tim, or Damian. Don’t do it to any of them.”

Batman nodded.

Even though it made his skin crawl and all his instincts scream, Jason turned his back and walked back over to Bucky, falling into his arms and burying his face into his shoulder.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, arms strong around Jason’s back. “He crept out onto the balcony and grappled up to the roof. He’s got some sort of plane that is taking off now.”

“He got in. He’ll always get in.”

“Jay—”
Jason shook his head. “He’s Batman. No security can stop him.” His hands were shaking so he gripped Bucky’s hoodie tightly. “He’s too good.”

“I’ll talk to Stark, okay? He’ll figure out how Bruce got in, where the hole in his security is, and he will close it.” Bucky’s arms tightened around Jason. “He won’t get in here again.”

Jason couldn’t help tensing at the idea that the Avengers would see the confrontation with Batman, hear what they had talked about, and judge Jason even more. “Jar?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Is there any way you could delete that footage?” He could feel Bucky’s eyes on him but he didn't look at him. “Clear any record of it?”

“Protocols dictate that I cannot,” Jarvis replied. “But unfortunately my recording apparatus failed throughout the entirety of that conversation. The picture was recorded but the sound wasn't. It is an unfortunate error that I will have to investigate thoroughly.”

Jason laughed wetly into Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Let’s get you back to bed, bud.” Bucky said, arm still slung over Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll stand watch tonight. You can sleep, okay?”

Jason just nodded and followed him back to the elevator.

Jason was sitting on the balcony, wrapped in a blanket despite the weak spring sun that was lighting up the blue sky. He had been reading but every time a shadow passed over the balcony — a cloud over the sun, a plane, or even goddamn bird — he would jump. Despite knowing that Batman wouldn’t come out in the daylight, he wouldn't, Jason still couldn’t relax.

The glass door slid open and Bucky stepped out carrying a steaming cup. “Here, Jay, kid, for you. It’s something warm.”

Jason took it and wrapped his cold fingers around it. Spring was coming but the cold grasp of winter hadn’t let go of the city yet. “I’m okay.”

“It would be okay if you weren’t,” Bucky said, crouching in front of him. “Last night should never have happened. Stark is freaking out. He’s talking about rewiring the whole building. Whatever that means.” He wiped Jason's curls off his forehead. “I’m sorry, Jason. I said I would protect you. I’m so sorry.”

Jason shook his head. “Bruce will do whatever he wants. Whenever he wants. No matter where I am, he’ll find me.”

“Never again,” Bucky said fiercely. “And even if he ever does get you, I swear to you, Jason, I swear that I will come for you. Every single time.”

Jason took a sip of his tea, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes.

He squeezed Jason’s hand and stood up. “Jaybug wants to go to the park. Do you want to come?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to… Outside… It’s too much—”

“You don’t have to explain. You stay here.” He ruffled Jason’s hair gently like he was trying not to overwhelm him.

Jason’s eyes prickled. He wanted a hug but he didn’t know how to ask for one.

“I have my phone. You call and I’ll come running, okay?”

Jason nodded, and took out his phone to show that he had his as well.

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll be back soon.”

Jason heard the thwack of the webbing before he saw Spiderman. It only took a moment before the red and blue suit appeared over the balcony and he settled on the glass parapet with what Jason just knew was an impish grin behind his mask.

“Usually people react when I appear out of nowhere.”

Jason shrugged and put his book down. “I heard you coming.”

Spiderman pushed up into a handstand, seeming uncaring of the fact they were hundreds of feet in the air. “Oh, really?”

“Every time the web lands, it’s like a thwack sound.” He tilted his head to the side. “And there’s a sort of whoosh of air.” He frowned at the impreciseness of that statement. “It’s hard to explain if you’re not used to listening for it.”

“For what?”

“The sound of it.” Jason shrugged, uninterested in describing it any further. He stood up and walked over to the parapet. “You missed Little Jay. He’s out with Bucky.”

“Oh.”

It warmed his chest how genuinely disappointed Spiderman sounded. “Did you want to talk to him about something?”

“Well, I kinda got a TA from freshman literature to give me this semester's reading list.”

Jason couldn’t help how his eyes widened.

Spiderman shrugged and flipped onto the balcony from his handstand, landing on the balls of his feet. Straightening up, he pulled a piece of paper from some hidden pocket on his suit.

“I thought maybe Jay, or you, might be interested in doing the reading. I mean, I’m a science nerd, I dunno about any of this stuff, but Jay seemed really excited about college. I thought he might like the list.”

He handed it to Jason and jumped back up onto the parapet like he was physically trying to move away from the words. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Maybe I should go before I say something else stupid.”

“About yesterday—” Jason started but Spiderman held up his hands.

“Bucky came to find me after he visited the muggers. He made it very clear that the level of violence is perfectly acceptable when either of you are in danger.” He swayed back and forth on the inch wide glass; Jason’s heart didn’t pound at the action. Not at all. “I’ve never… I fight to save people. I’ve just never fought like that.”

“I think we’ve gotten different types of training.”

“I haven’t had any training.”

Jason smirked. “Yeah, I know. I was trying to be nice.” He held himself as still as he would when Ra’s was examining him. “I’ve been trained by a lot of people in a lot of different ways. I know when to stop. Yesterday—” he took a shuddering breath. “Thank you for stopping me.”

Spiderman shrugged. “That’s my job. That's what I do.” He scrubbed the back of his head. “I should probably go. You're busy.”

Jason didn’t want the conversation to end. Not yet. His heart was thrumming in his chest in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “Do you want some tea? We have muffins too.”

“Coffee?” he replied hopefully.

“Tea might be better considering how…” He waved at all of him. “Like that you are. I’m cutting you off for the day.”

“I’m pouting behind my mask. I want you to know that.”

A small grin tugged at Jason’s lips. He felt young in a way he hadn’t in a long time. “Oh, I could tell. Your body language is incredibly pathetic.”

“Wow, book boy’s got snark.”

He laughed. “What? Struggling to keep up?”

Spiderman flipped off the parapet again. “I’ve got the best snark you’ve ever seen.” He scrubbed the back of his head and bounced on his feet. “If I released the full force of my sarcasm on you, you’d cry.”

“I’m sure,” Jason said. “Come on, Snarker-man, let’s get you some chamomile tea.”

Spiderman laughed and followed him into the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Everything calmed down after Batman’s visit.

No more arguments. No more intense conversation. Just the Avengers working to make sure that no one could get to Little Jay without their knowledge. Bucky insisted that they were just as worried about Jason but he didn’t believe it. They had literally no reason to care about him except for the fact that they loved Little Jay, who was technically Jason, but not really.

Jason didn’t exactly hide away but he didn’t leave the apartment either. Nowhere felt safe but his bedroom, his reading nook, and the balcony. And also, for reasons he didn't quite understand yet, Bucky and Little Jay felt safe. He didn’t look too closely at that.

The Avengers were spending more time in the apartment, trying to update security and make sure that no one would be able to get in, and Jason could barely leave his room without bumping into one of them. Steve was over at the apartment almost all the time now. Bucky kept checking in with Jason, making sure he was comfortable, and letting him know he would kick them out any time he wanted, but Little Jay seemed happier than ever with all his adults around.

Jason couldn’t take that away from him. Not after Jason had nearly beat a man to death in front of him. Little Jay was probably traumatized, no matter what he seemed to be telling everyone about how Jason was a hero.

Jason finally met Lucky when Clint snuck him into the Tower with the help of Jarvis. The furry mess of a dog had jumped up into Jason when he first arrived, slobbering all over him and his book, while Little Jay laughed and laughed. Jason could admit, if only to himself, that the dog actually made him feel a little bit better. It definitely helped that Little Jay didn't stop grinning the whole time Lucky was over.

Clint wasn't so bad either. He was funny, and kind. Seemed to pick up on Jason's nervousness and made sure that he telegraphed every single movement. Somehow he did it in a way that didn't make Jason feel bad about himself. Made it seem almost a natural part of his movement.

Clint only left when Jarvis informed him — over his phone, and then Jason had to make sure the robot butler wasn't on his own phone — that Stark was on the way up. He disappeared in a flurry of movement and some overexcited barking.

Stark had gone a little bit crazy; too many security breaches in too short an amount of time. He had managed to work for the first three days without sleep before Pepper had arrived back from a business trip and forced him into bed. But he was back at it six hours later and hadn’t stopped since; Pepper was apparently unimpressed.

By the time he arrived at the apartment, to check something something security something, too complicated for young minds, baby murder bot, another few days had passed since Stark had slept, and he was refusing to stop until that asshole knows that he can’t break into my house and threaten my tiny guests.

Considering Jason was taller than Stark, he wasn’t sure how to feel about the sudden protectiveness or the new nickname — baby murder bot, for fuck’s sake — but he figured he could just let it be. Apparently everyone in the place was feeling incredibly protective.

Of Little Jay, obviously.

EvenSteve was over at the apartment almost all the time. Clint was always close by, with or without Lucky, and even Natasha had dropped by a few times to check in. She still watched Jason like she was expecting him to attack at any moment but she had relaxed just slightly around him.

She moved like Talia though, reacted in the same ways, so Jason couldn’t relax around her. Couldn’t let his guard down because then the memories would overwhelm him. Dr. Banner was the only one who hadn't appeared but somehow Jason didn't mind. He really didn't feel like discussing multiverse travel with him.

Little Jay had been furious when he found out what Batman had done, had gone on a long rant about billionaires and their bullshit entitlement — in earshot of Stark which had been hilarious. He had been sleeping in Jason’s room ever since.

Every night, he made Jason tell him stories of his universe, just the good stuff, Jason, the stuff that made you happy. Mostly Jason told stories of his mom, and Alfred, he's way better than Jarvis, I swear, he makes the best cookies ever, and things he had seen when traveling the world.

But with Little Jay sleeping next to him, Jason couldn’t sleep, because he was too afraid of hurting him.

“Didn’t sleep?” Bucky asked when Jason emerged from his bedroom on the sixth morning. “I can make him go back to his own room.”

Jason shook his head, sitting down on the stool and resting his head on his forearms. “He’s trying to protect me.”

“Of course he is, but it’s okay to ask him to let you sleep.”

“I can nap,” Jason said around a yawn. “He’s trying to protect me,” he repeated with a little awe in his voice. “I love him for it.”

“You love me?” Little Jay whispered from the doorway. “Really?” A massive grin broke out across his face. He raced across the kitchen and Jason sat up just in time to catch him in his arms.

“Of course I love you,” Jason whispered into Little Jay’s hair. “I love you so much.” It scared him how much he meant it. “I really do.”

Little Jay pulled back beaming. “I love you too. Loads and loads. So much. As much as Bucky even.”

Jason’s cheeks burned. “That much?”

He nodded like a bobblehead. “Do you think Bucky will make us chocolate chip pancakes? To celebrate?”

They both turned to look at Bucky who was watching them with a soft expression on his face that Jason couldn’t figure out. “Why don’t we go out for breakfast? Celebrate for real?”

Little Jay whooped. “Quick, Jason, let's get dressed. We can go to the park after. It’ll be a whole family day out.”

Jason’s stomach flipped at the word family; it always did.

Still, he followed Little Jay down the hall to get dressed.

The diner they went to was a little run down and a little out of the way but it reminded Jason of Gotham in the best possible way. He had a feeling that Bucky had searched this place out for Little Jay for exactly that reason.

“Hey, Beth,” Little Jay said when they entered. “We are here for pancakes from the best diner in New York.”

“Jay, you little flatterer,” the woman behind the counter — Beth — said with a grin. “I was wondering when you and your dad would stop in again.”

Little Jay grinned. “We've been busy. I have a big brother now. His name is Jack but we call him Jay and me Little Jay because I’m smaller than him.” He glanced around and then whispered theatrically, “For now.”

Beth laughed, staring at Jason with wide eyes. “Holy hell, kid, you could be his twin.”

Little Jay beamed. “It’s great, right? No one would ever think we weren’t related and no one can take him away because Bucky is fostering him too. Well, I’m adopted so Jay will probably be adopted soon too.” He shrugged. “We’re just waiting for him to be okay with it. Me and Bucky, I mean.”

Jason’s cheeks burned. He glanced around the half empty diner. “Do we just sit anywhere?”

“Yes, darling, anywhere you want.”

He nodded, wrapped an arm around Little Jay who was still beaming, and led him over to a booth at the back that had good sightlines to kitchens, the toilets and the entrance. Bucky sat beside Little Jay with his back to the door which meant more to Jason than he could express. Bucky couldn’t have been comfortable like that but he still let Jason have the best seat.

“You gotta get the pancakes, okay?” Little Jay said. “They’re so good. Right, Buck?”

“Best I’ve ever had,” Bucky agreed easily. He thanked Beth when she poured him a coffee. “Jay will probably want tea.”

Pink stained Jason’s cheeks. “Earl gray if you have it.”

Beth nodded. “Course, darling. And chocolate milk for you, bug?”

Little Jay nodded. “And chocolate chip pancakes for all of us.”

“Side of bacon as well. Three bowls of fruit too.” Bucky took a sip of his coffee and ignored the groan out of Little Jay. “Thanks, Beth.”

“Of course. That’ll be out soon.” She headed back to the counter, busying herself with their drinks.

Jason played with his cutlery instead of looking up. “He can’t get us here, right?”

Bucky reached out slowly and took Jason’s hand. “He’s not going to touch you, but if you want, I can pay Gotham a visit and remind him.”

“No. No. Don’t go near him. Please.” Jason put his hand to his throat without thinking. “I don’t want to capture his attention anymore.”

Bucky squeezed his fingers once, waiting until Jason lowered his hand, before he said, “I want you to know that I am way more scary than he will ever be.”

Little Jay nodded. “Way scarier. Once he held him up by the throat and told Batman everything he had ever done wrong. Clint told me that.”

“And how did Clint know that?”

“Natasha told him,” Little Jay replied with a grin.

Bucky sighed. “I didn’t tell her about that either.”

Little Jay shrugged. “Nat knows everything.”

“Of course she does.”

“Like Talia,” Jason said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. “She always knew everything. No matter how hard I tried to hide something.”

Bucky grip on his hand tightened. “How close exactly were you to Talia?”

Jason ducked his head down until he could get his expression over control. He heard Bucky take a step towards him and he tensed up. Bucky didn’t move closer.

“Jason?” he asked gently.

He shook his head, locked his hands together and looked back up with a tremulous smile. “So tell me about these pancakes,” he said to Little Jay. “Best ever?”

Little Jay glanced between them before taking Jason’s other hand. “They're so fluffy and they have giant chocolate chips. You’ll love them.”

When Jason glanced over at Bucky, he was examining him with searching eyes. Whatever he found there made his eyebrows furrow but he smiled anyway. “Jaybug is right. You’ll really love them.” He squeezed Jason’s hand once more before letting go.

Little Jay kept his hand, playing with Jason’s fingers. “Let’s go to the park after this. I want to climb the monkey bars, and get as strong as Jason.”

“We can do that, Jaybug. Straight after breakfast.”

Jason nodded his agreement and thanked Beth when she placed a cup in front of him. He took a sip, laughing when Little Jay took a sip of his drink and ended up with a milk mustache. He let memories of Batman and Talia and Natasha slither back to the dark parts of his brain, and let himself enjoy the moment with the people he was starting to consider safe.

Jason sat on a bench watching as Bucky helped Little Jay climb across the monkey bars. Bucky stood under him ready to catch Little Jay if he needed to but mostly just cheered him on. They were both laughing, chatting together.

They looked like father and son.

Jason wasn't sure if he actually wanted that, but in the moment, he found himself yearning for it.

That was when Jason noticed the boy taking pictures of them. He had to be about eighteen, maybe nineteen, shorter than Jason but not by much, with a lean build and baggy clothes that hid muscles Jason could just make out. He had a skateboard strapped to his backpack and a band t-shirt underneath a black hoodie.

When the boy turned the camera on Jason, he pretended not to notice. He kept his posture relaxed as he watched Bucky catch Little Jay and spin him around, before throwing him over his shoulder and carrying him over to a different climbing frame. But when the boy turned away to take photos of someone else, Jason stood up and circled him.

He stalked him through the crowds of people, until he was sure the boy was distracted, and then stopped in front of him, letting himself grin when the boy startled.

It didn’t escape Jason that he was very, very cute.

“Why are you taking pictures of my family?” He ignored the burst of pride he felt at saying that, and the swift, painful fear that followed. “Are you looking to sell them? Try and make some money exploiting a dad and his son?”

“No. God, no. Absolutely not. That’s not what I do.” He rubbed the back of his head and stared down at his feet. “I mean I take pictures of Spiderman, but that’s to cover my college costs and to help my Aunt May with bills, and he knows about it, he doesn’t mind. I wasn’t going to sell these. I was just…” He trailed off and ran both hands through his hair, camera hanging from his neck. “I was just…practicing.”

Jason held out his hand. “Show me.”

“Show… Show you? My pictures?”

“Unless you want me to take that camera,” Jason said, with a mean grin he hadn’t used much in the last few months, “and smash it before I smash your face.”

The boy stared at him, swallowed, and then nodded. He shuffled a little on his feet, staring down at his shoes before he twisted his camera around. “Okay.”

He flicked through his photos; images of the city from a perspective that Jason had never considered. Dogs and rainbows and kids playing baseball with shitty sticks and people sharing a dessert and Spiderman and cityscapes from way higher than he should have been able to reach.

And finally Bucky, Jason, and Little Jay: sitting together on a bench, laughing. Little Jay in the middle of the two of them, chatting to Jason as Bucky stared at them both with a look of such intense love that it actually took Jason’s breath away. He had seen Bucky look at Little Jay with that expression, but he had never considered, not once, that it would ever be aimed at him.

“Oh.”

“I couldn’t not take it, man.”

He flicked to the next picture and the next and the next; Bucky and Little Jay smiling together, Bucky cheering Little Jay on, Little Jay climbing the monkey bars, and the last one, Jason sitting by himself on the bench, smiling at them. He looked happy.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said. “I know it’s not alright. I’m sorry.” He rubbed the back of his head again.

Something pinged in Jason’s brain; his training, his hypervigilance, the observation that Bruce had trained into him, and the paranoia that Talia had — it all coalesced into one inevitable conclusion.

“Holy shit,” he said, “You’re Spiderman.”

Spiderman was so fucking cute without the mask.

Jason was screwed.

“What? No, I’m not.” Spiderman did not know how to lie well. “Why would you think that? That doesn’t make sense. Why would you even say that?” He took a step back. “I should probably go. Yeah, I should definitely go.”

“Who’s your friend, Jason?” Bucky appeared at Jason’s side with Little Jay on his back. He held his hand out.

The boy shook it cautiously. “Hello, sir.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, obviously figuring out exactly what Jason had, and faster too.

“Jason, did you see me?” Little Jay said excitedly. “I climbed right to the top.”

“Course I did. You were amazing,” Jason said, not taking his eyes off the boy. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Peter,” he said tiredly. “Peter Parker. I go to college up the road.”

“At Empire State?” Little Jay said. “That’s the college that Spiderman goes to. He helped us the other week. Jason saved us though,” he repeated, as he did literally every time he told the story.

“You go to the same college that Spiderman goes to?” Bucky asked, studying Peter intently. “Isn’t that a coincidence?”

“Shit,” Peter muttered down at his camera. “I really have to go.”

“Why don’t you show Bucky your pictures,” Jason said with a grin. “He’ll probably want a copy. Hell, you might as well let him pay you for them.”

If Bucky thought Jason was acting strangely, he didn’t react. “I’d love to see your pictures.”

“Do you want to come to lunch with us?” Little Jay asked. “You can tell me all about college. What do you study? How much is it? What grades did you have to get? Do you live in dorms? Spiderman couldn’t tell me anything because he has a secret identity but you don’t have one, right? So you can totally tell me things.”

Jason grinned. “No secret identity for you, Pete, right?”

Peter glared at him and said through gritted teeth, “Nope. No secret identity for me.”

“Great. Then there's no reason why you can’t come get lunch with us.” Jason fought to keep a straight face with the daggers Peter was shooting at him. “He can join us, right, Bucky? College student like you would probably enjoy a free meal?”

Peter licked his lips and fiddled with his camera. “Lunch would be nice.”

Bucky looked so goddamn amused as he glanced between them. “It’s closer to dinner but you’re more than welcome.”

Peter sighed. “Okay,” he said like he was going to the gallows. “Let’s get dinner.”

Dinner would have been a bit of a tense affair if Little Jay wasn’t so intent on asking Peter every single question he could about college. He kept the conversation going single-handedly, and slowly Peter relaxed, until he reminded Jason of his hero alter ego. He was laughing and chatting, bantering with Little Jay and even managing to answer Bucky’s questions about college without freaking out like he had when he had first met him on the roof.

Jason mostly kept quiet, watching the three of them interact while studying everything that Peter did. They had gone to a tiny pizzeria that served the best pizza Jason had ever tasted; Peter had recommended the place and Jason had to admit, grudgingly, that the boy had taste.

“What about you?” Peter asked. “Are you in high school? College?”

“Neither,” Jason said quietly. “I don’t… Not anymore.” He hated that his cheeks went red.

“He’s going to get his GED,” Little Jay said confidently. “He’s gonna do homeschooling with me, and then he’ll go to college and do Literature and probably become a teacher. He reads loads.”

“Jay just joined our family,” Bucky said. “He’s settling in at the moment.”

“Oh.” Peter said, glancing between Jason and Little Jay with a confused frown. “I thought you two were related.”

“We are,” Little Jay replied with a bright grin. “He’s my half brother. We only found each other a few months ago. Isn’t that cool?”

Jason could practically see Peter’s science brain cataloging the similarities between the two of them, working his way through the genetics of it all, the same goddamn names, and coming up with some math that didn’t make sense.

Finally, Peter just nodded. “That’s super cool.”

Little Jay beamed.

Bucky shot Peter a considering look and then nodded. “We’re just glad we found him.”

Jason ducked his head to hide his burning cheeks and went back to eating his food. It took a few seconds but conversation started up again between Little Jay and Peter, and continued until they finished eating.

After dessert, which Little Jay insisted they got, they stood up and put on their jackets.

Peter zipped his jacket up and searched through his pockets. “I have money in here somewhere.”

“My treat,” Bucky said, pulling his wallet out. He glanced over at Jason. “Why don’t you and Little Jay walk Peter out while I sort this out?”

“I can pay my share,” Peter said, although he still hadn’t actually taken any money out.

“How about this?”Bucky said. “You can print off some of those photos for me and drop them off at the Tower when you get a chance?”

Peter rocked back and forth on his feet, eyes darting from Jason to Bucky and back again.

“He means it,” Jason said when Peter’s brown eyes landed on him. “Let him buy you some food. Give him some pictures.”

“A deal. Fairs fair.” Little Jay said with a firm nod. “C’mon, let’s go outside. Maybe Slade will turn up. He likes to surprise me.”

“Slade?” Peter whispered to Jason as Little Jay led them from the restaurant.

“His murder uncle.”

“Our murder uncle,” Little Jay said with a grin. “So, when do we get to see you again?” He sat down on a bench and dragged his feet across the concrete. “Because you’re cool and Bucky thinks I need more friends.”

“Friends your age,” Jason said, sitting down beside him and ruffling his hair.

“Friends are friends,” Little Jay insisted. “And now I have two friends. Peter and Spiderman.”

“Pretty high calibre friends,” Peter said, scrubbing the back of his head and bouncing on his feet. He always seemed to be moving. “Dunno if I fit in.”

“Course you do,” Little Jay said. “You’re in college, and Bucky likes you. That’s like two out of two.”

Jason snorted. “Guess I better start thinking about college so I can stay in your super cool club.”

Little Jay beamed up at him. “Yes! You should definitely do that.” His grin brightened even further when he twisted his head back to Peter. “Hey, did you join any clubs in college? Did you make friends that way?”

“I joined the photography club, and…” he trailed off, glanced at Jason and then away again. He straightened up. “And I joined the LGBT plus club. I’m bi,” he said it so casually that it came out not being casual at all. “Made some friends there.”

“Cool,” Little Jay said. “I’m going to join the Literature club and Drama club. Maybe an Art club.”

“You could do that in school too, if you wanted,” Jason said.

“I don’t need to go to school, Jason. I do all my work online.”

Bucky joined them on the sidewalk just as Jason was rolling his eyes. “All okay here?”

“Jason is going to college. And Peter joined loads of clubs and said I could too when I go to college.” Little Jay jumped up and wrapped his arms around Buck’s waist. “He’s going to be a writer or a teacher.”

Warmth flushed through Jason. “Am I?”

“If you want,” Little Jay said with a grin. “Bucky, can Peter come visit us at home?”

Peter froze before he glanced over at Jason, eyes wide. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“We could bring Pete for ice cream,” Jason said, trying to take the pressure off Peter when he was clearly uncomfortable, “and make him try all the worst flavors.”

“Wasabi mint,” Little Jay whispered gleefully.

“That’s definitely an idea. What do you think, Pete?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, challenging.

“I could try that,” he said dryly. “Sounds good.”

“That sounds disgusting.” Bucky grinned. “Jason, give Peter your number and he can text you. Make a plan.”

Jason glared at Bucky even as he accepted Peter’s phone and put in his number. He hated that his cheeks heated up when their fingers brushed. “You can text me whenever,” he said with a shrug that didn’t feel as casual as he had tried to make it.

“Cool,” Peter said, ducking his head and putting his phone away. “I, um, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to… I have things. May is wondering where I am.” He was already backing away. “Thanks for dinner, Mr Barnes. It was really nice of you. Bye Jason. Jay.” He glanced between them, eyebrows furrowed, before he shook his head, clearly putting all those science thoughts away. “Bye,” he said again with a dorky wave before he stepped into the crowd on the busy street and jogged away.

Jason watched him go until he disappeared.

A couple of hours after Jason said goodnight to Peter, Spiderman found him on the balcony

New York was an explosion of multicolored lights far below them. Like they had never taken the Christmas decorations down. It wasn’t really Peter that found him though; it was Spiderman.

Jason ignored him while he got settled on the parapet — no handstands this time, just normal sitting — before he finally closed his book, and stood up. “Not scared off then?”

Spiderman laughed. “Figured you knew how to keep a secret.”

“That I can.”

Jason tried not to read too much into that sentence; Peter couldn’t know that he and Little Jay were technically the same person. That would be an insane thing to think. He leaned his arms on the rubber binding on the glass and stared out at the buildings. Spiderman dropped down beside him; he was a warm line of heat down Jason’s side.

He didn’t look up from his hands when he said quietly, almost shyly, “You don’t seem particularly overwhelmed by the whole vigilante thing.”

“Seen worse,” Jason said with a bitter twist to his voice. He forced a grin but he knew it was shaped wrong. “Done worse. Had worse done to me.” He couldn’t keep the heavy grief out of his voice.

Spiderman glanced over at him. “You lost someone.”

Jason recognised the pain in Peter’s voice. “So did you.”

He nodded. “My girlfriend. She was trying to help me. She wanted to help. I couldn’t save her.”

Heart thumping, Jason reached over and linked their fingers together. “A few years back, I – got hurt really bad, and the man who was meant to be my father didn’t save me. I wasn’t angry at him for that. Not once. But I was furious that the man who killed me was still alive.” He stared at the skyline, unable to look over. Not that he'd be able to see Peter's expression. “The person who hurt her, did you get them? Stop them? Make it so he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again?”

“Yeah,” he replied, the word heavy with exhaustion. “He won’t ever hurt anyone ever again.”

“Then don’t make her sacrifice about you.” Jason squeezed Peter’s hand. “She chose to be there. She made her decisions. You don’t ever get to take that from her.”

Spiderman looked away, and took in a loud, shaking breath. “She said the same thing to me. Minutes before she died. That no one got to make her choices for her.”

“Well, there you go.”

Spiderman took his hand back. “The thing is, I don’t date civilians anymore. I don’t…”

Jason grinned but there was no real amusement in it. His hand felt cold. “I haven’t been a civilian since I was twelve years old.”

“Still,” Peter said, jumping up on the parapet. “I think you’re…” He shook his head. “You’re an awesome brother, and you have more secrets than anyone I’ve ever met, and you’re funny, smart, and dangerous, but…”

“But you don’t date civilians?”

He bounced on the balls of his feet despite being hundreds of feet in the air and balancing on less than an inch of glass. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

Jason tried to ignore the disappointment churning in his stomach. “Well, are you friends with civilians, or is that too dangerous too?”

Spiderman tilted his head. “I’d really like to be your friend.”

“And Little Jay’s too?” Jason prompted.“Because he isn’t letting Spiderman or Peter Parker go.”

He laughed. “His friend too.”

“Good.” Jason scrubbed his face and shoved his disappointment down deep. His embarrassment too; he hadn't realized he had been so obvious about his crush. Enough so that Peter felt like he had to let him down easy. “I’m actually really tired. You have my number so you can text me when you want to hang out or whatever.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“The fact that you think I’m a civilian,” he snorted, mask safely in place. “Hilarious.”

“Jay, kid,” Bucky said from the doorway, “I made you tea. Spiderman, I didn’t know you were here.” His voice betrayed nothing. It was like he had no idea that Peter and Spiderman were the same person. “Do you want some?”

He shook his head. “I have to go. Crimes to stop and all that. I’ll text you.” With another one of those dorky waves, he jumped off the balcony.

Bucky sighed. “I hate it when he does that.”

“At least he has super quick reflexes and healing,” Jason said, trying to keep the wistfulness out of his voice. “Wait until you see me do it.”

“Never,” Bucky replied, deadly serious.

It made Jason grin; made the sting of Peter's rejection hurt a little less.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing I didn’t expect.” No one chooses him in the end. He coughed and shook his head. “Anyway, tea?”

Bucky put the tea down and stepped forward, pulling Jason into a hug. “You don’t know this yet, because you are seventeen, and currently have a very narrow perspective no matter what your experiences have been, but you are not only going to experience rejection. There is not something fundamentally wrong with you that means people will keep rejecting you.”

Jason shook his head. “There is. They will.”

“Time, Jay. That’s all you need.” One of his hands held the back of Jason’s head softly. “You have so much of it in front of you to learn that that just isn’t true. Me and Jaybug? We’ll be right there with you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Bucky whispered, pulling Jason in even tighter.

The next morning, Jason threw Little Jay up onto his back and carried the kid into the kitchen. “Bet Bucky makes you eat fruit and bran flakes.”

Little Jay fake gagged into Jason’s ear. “Gross.”

“Gross,” Jason agreed with a grin.

Little Jay laughed. “Bucky, you won’t make me eat fruit and bran flakes, right?”

“I’m making eggs, Jaybug,” Bucky said with a grin. “And yes there will be fruit.”

Jason opened his mouth to reply something snarky when the ground swooped beneath him. Like he was suddenly on a boat in the middle of a storm.

“Bucky,” he managed before the ground swooped again violently.

It felt like he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and pulled back with explosive force. He fell through blackness, blackness, blackness, and landed hard with Little Jay still gripping his shoulders.

“Jason?” a familiar voice growled. “Jaylad?” The voice was gentler the second time.

He glanced up and tensed. Bruce stood in front of him. Constantine was there, as well as Alfred and Dick. The pretender was standing there, staring at them with calculating eyes.

They were in the Batcave.

They were back in Jason’s universe.

Chapter Text

“Where are we?” Little Jay whispered, arms tight around Jason’s neck. His body was a long line of warmth down Jason’s back. “What do we do?”

Jason shifted him further up on his hips and took a step backwards. When no one followed, he took another and another until there was a wall at their backs, and he had himself between Little Jay and everyone else.

“Don’t let go of me. Keep holding on.” He felt the nod and how Little Jay’s arms got tighter. The kid had one hell of a grip. Then he asked Constantine, “What did you do? Why are we here?”

“Only meant to bring you along, mate.” Constantine was smoking and ignoring Alfred’s disapproving glare. He took a long drag, letting the smoke pool out of his mouth like he was a dragon, before he said, “But that kid on your back looks a little too much like you to be a coincidence, so I’m assuming the spell got mixed up, with the whole matching aura thing, so it brought both of you.”

“Jay,” Dick said softly. He had his hand on Tim’s shoulder — holding him back, or maybe support. Doubtful though. What would Dick need support for? “It’s so good to see you.”

Jason shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t act like having me here is a good thing.” He straightened up, widened his stance to make himself as big as possible. “You bring me back to arrest me? Attack me again? Because let me tell you, I’m not going anywhere with you, and it’ll be one hell of a fight.”

“No, Jay. I swear.” Dick sounded almost convincingly upset. “Bruce explained what happened. How he was aiming for the gun and you moved. He didn’t mean to hurt you. It was an accident.”

“Fuck you and your accident,” Little Jay snapped.

“Hell of an accident,” Jason agreed, squeezing Little Jay’s legs. He shifted to make sure Little Jay’s whole body was hidden behind him. “Send us back.”

“Jaylad,” Bruce said, voice soft but with an underlying steel that made Jason’s spine stiffen further. “You can’t stay in a universe that isn’t your own. It is dangerous. To the fabric of everything. We had to bring you back.”

Bruce took a step forward but froze when Little Jay squeaked and buried his head in the crook of Jason’s shoulder.

“I won’t come closer,” he said gently. It was a voice that reminded Jason of comfort and safety; he fucking hated it. “I promise.”

“We can send the younger version of you back. Eventually,” Constantine said around his cigarette. “But you’ve got to stay.”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t belong here anymore. I don’t.” He couldn't help the desperation that coated the words. “Check. Constantine. Check me.”

Constantine rolled his eyes, crushed his cigarette under the heel of grubby shoes and waved his hands in the air, chanting some spell that Jason didn’t try to understand. He stuttered, stared at Jason for a long, tense minute, and started the spell again.

Silence settled over the cave as they all watched him.

Finally, he said, “You’re right, mate. You don't belong here anymore. Not in this universe anyway. You belong with the kid.”

Little Jay cheered. “Send us back then. Bucky is waiting for us.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce growled at Constantine, closer to Batman than he would usually allow outside of the uniform. “Jason was born here. He died and came back here. This is his home. ”

Jason didn’t think that Bruce meant the universe.

He thought maybe he meant the manor.

But the manor wasn’t his home. Not anymore.

The apartment with Bucky and Little Jay was. It was the sitting room wall with the photos of them. It was the armchair by the balcony door with the bookshelves around it and the fairy lights above it. Having dinner around their table, just the three of them. Baking. Watching movies. Reading quietly together.

The three of them being a family.

That was home.

The manor was a gravesite, and Jason had no interest in going back under the dirt.

Little Jay snorted. “This isn’t his home. We’re his home. Me and Bucky.”

Jason patted his legs again. “You don’t want me, Bruce. You never did. What was it you said again?” He examined Bruce but the man’s face was expressionless. “I'm not your father, Jason. I don't need your teenage rebellion.”

Bruce didn’t flinch but his mouth tightened at the edges.

“Master Jason,” Alfred said, voice wet with tears. “Will you please introduce us to the young man on your back?”

Jason turned his head slightly. “What do you think, Little Jay?”

He clutched at Jason even tighter. “Is that Alfred?”

Jason nodded. “That’s him.”

“Better than Jarvis?”

“I promise.” He ignored how everyone was watching them with sharp eyes. “You want to stay on my back or walk over?”

“Walk,” he said, so Jason let him down. Little Jay tucked one of his hands into Jason’s hoodie pocket and leaned into him when Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Jason walked them over to Alfred ignoring the others. “Alfred, this is my… brother, Little Jay. This is Alfred, Jaybug.”

Hiding half behind Jason, he smiled. “Hi,” he said quietly. “Jason told me that you make the best cookies.”

Alfred smiled that soft, fond smile that always made Jason’s chest ache. “Well, I haven’t had many complaints, young sir.”

Little Jay wrinkled his nose. “You sound like Jarvis.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Jason said. “Alfred is cool, and only kind of omniscient.”

Dick laughed and stepped forward. “We’re pretty sure he’s magic.”

Little Jay disappeared behind Jason’s back.

“Not interested, Dickhead,” Jason snapped. He curled a hand around the back of Jay’s head. “When can we go home?”

Constantine glanced up from where he was lighting another cigarette. “I need time to recharge, mate. Pulling one person from another dimension is hard enough without accidentally bringing a second one through too. And I burned through all my ingredients. Some were pretty rare. I’ve got to get back to the house. Deal with this. It’ll probably take me another four months to track everything down again.”

“What the fuck,” Jason shouted. “No fucking way. Bucky will be going out of his mind. You have to send us back.”

Constantine shrugged. “I can only do what I can do.”

“Can you make it so this is Jason's universe again?” Bruce asked, voice almost desperate. “Reverse whatever happened to him?”

Constantine hummed. “That'll take some research. Give me six months.” He drew a portal in the air and disappeared through.

“That son of a bitch,” Jason growled. He spun around, glaring at Bruce. “Get us back home. Now.”

“Jaylad,” Bruce said, stepping forward.

Jason practically fell when he jerked back too fast trying to get away from him. He hated that he probably hurt Little Jay with how quickly he pulled him back.

“Don't touch me,” he snarled.

Little Jay leaned into Jason until he lifted him up onto his back again. “Don't worry. Bucky will come for us,” he whispered with no doubt in his voice. “Bucky will come.”

Jason wanted to disagree because there was no way. It had taken Bruce four months and Constantine to get Jason back, and as far as he knew, there was no Constantine in their universe, or at least not a fully developed one. There was no one with the power to retrieve them. Not until Constantine gathered the supplies, and since Bruce wouldn’t be breathing down his neck the whole time, it would probably be closer to a year before he gathered everything together again.

But he remembered the conversation in the kitchen all those months before; Bucky talking about how he'd earned Little Jay's trust over time. He'd earned Jason's now too. Whenever Jason needed him, he came. Usually without even being asked.

Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad hoping. Just this once.

“You're right,” he whispered right back, the words only for Little Jay. “He'll come for us.”

Nobody spoke for a long moment.

Bruce watched Jason with dark eyes; it made his skin crawl. Little Jay rested his forehead on the back of Jason's neck. Dick and Tim were standing beside each other. Now, Tim had his hand on Dick’s arm as if holding him back. Alfred stood closest to him and Little Jay, not quite a shield, but close enough to one that Jason could feel his heart calming slightly.

“Bucky is going to be so worried,” Little Jay whispered with a quiver in his voice. “Jason, dad is going to be so scared.”

Jason set him down and crouched down in front of him. It put his back to the Bats and he hated how his skin crawled.

“He will be,” he agreed gently. “Of course, he will be. But Steve will look after him, and so will Nat and Clint. I bet Slade even turns up to try and find us.”

Little Jay wiped his eyes. “So Bucky will be okay?”

“Yeah, buddy, and when we get back, he probably won't let you out of his sight for days.”

“Let us,” Little Jay insisted.

“Let us,” he conceded. “Now, how about we go and help Alfred make some cookies? Maybe we’ll be able to bring them back to Bucky when we go back.”

“You’re not going back,” Bruce growled from way too close.

Jason shot to his feet and spun around, putting himself in front of Little Jay again. “Stay away from us,” he snarled.

“Jay,” Dick said plaintively. “Please talk to us.”

Bruce took another step forward. “You’re staying here, Jason.”

“No, he’s not. He’s not staying here with you.” Little Jay jumped in front of Jason, pushing him back with his body. “He’s my brother. Mine. You can’t have him. He already has a good dad. Bucky is his dad, and I’m his brother, and we’re his family. You’re just some guy who got him killed and replaced him and wouldn’t even kill his murderer. And you slit Jason’s throat. You slit his throat.” He wiped his face viciously, failing to remove the tears wetting his cheeks. “You’re as bad as Willis. No. You’re fucking worse.”

Bruce's mouth hung open in a very un-Batman-like expression. Tim stared at Jason with two dark spots of red on his cheeks. Dick just stared, eyes darting between Jason and Little Jay.

Alfred looked amused of all things.

Jason picked Little Jay up, and slung him over his shoulder, ignoring everyone and how his heart was pounding against his ribs.

“C’mon, big guy,” Jason said over the deafening silence. “Time out, I think.”

He walked past their frozen forms and over to the elevator. He pressed the button, stepping in and only holding the door when Alfred followed.

“Well said, young Master Jason,” Alfred said after Jason had put Little Jay back onto the floor. “When Master Jason puts you down, we will make cookies and you can tell me all about this Bucky of yours.”

Little Jay stopped struggling. “You wanna hear about Bucky?”

“I would quite like to hear about Master Jason’s other family, yes.” He led them out of the elevator, across the short stone mezzanine and out of the grandfather clock. “This way, young sirs.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred said as he watched Little Jay mix together the dry and wet ingredients. “It is so very good to see you looking so well.”

Jason, who had been letting Little Jay do almost all of the talking, nodded. “Are you okay?”

Alfred sighed. “I have missed you so very much. And now knowing this is our last time together…” He trailed off and shook his head. “But we shall enjoy what time we have and remember it fondly.”

“We could take pictures,” Little Jay said. “And you could give us some pictures of Jason when he was younger to show Bucky.”

“That is a wonderful idea, young Master Jason. You are clearly a very bright young man.”

Little Jay beamed. “Jason, get your phone out and take a picture of me and Alfred to show Bucky.”

Jason did as he was told; his phone was useless in this universe but the camera still worked. He got a few pictures of the two of them, and then a few more with him in the frame.

At least he could remember his Alfred properly now. Print off some pictures and hang them on the photo wall. Remember that there were some good parts in this universe before the Joker, and Bruce, stole them from him.

“That's such a cute picture,” Dick said from the doorway. “Want me to take one of the three of you?”

“We're fine, thanks,” Jason said, sliding closer to Little Jay, who looked like he was about to throw cookie dough into Dick’s face.

“Master Dick, I do believe I requested that no one bother us.”

Dick shrugged with one of his what-can-you-do smiles. “Bruce was hoping to talk to Jason.”

“So he sent you here to do his dirty work.”

Little Jay slammed a ball of dough down on the waiting cooking tray. “Bruce Wayne is not talking to Jason. He's not keeping Jason, or stealing him, or tricking him into staying. We know all about Bruce Wayne in both universes and we're not interested, right, Jay?”

“Right,” Jason agreed before he reshaped the dough into actual balls. “We gotta be able to eat the cookies, Jaybug.”

“They'll flatten when they cook,” he said with the condescending air of an expert chef. “Alfred knows.”

Alfred nodded but Jason got the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. “Indeed, young sir.”

Dick placed both hands on the edge of the counter. His eyes were wide, bright in the kitchen lights, and his lips were downturned, practically trembling. “Jason, please,” he pleaded.

Jason refused to let the Dick Grayson Special move him — he had seen that expression be used on Bruce more times than he could count in his three years in the Manor. “No.”

Dick blinked and took a shuddering breath. “He really is sorry.”

“Sorry he slit my throat and nearly killed me? Or sorry he didn't finish the job and rid himself of me altogether?”

Dick flinched. “He doesn't kill.”

“And yet he came this close to killing me just so he could save the Joker.” Anger simmered under his skin in a way it hadn’t in weeks; he wanted to fight, he wanted to scream, he wanted to destroy Dick and Bruce and fucking Tim Drake. “Does that say something about me, or something about how Bruce feels about old green hair?”

“Bucky killed the Joker for me,” Little Jay said into the resounding silence. “He thinks Bruce shouldn't play with violence like it's a toy and then get mad when someone else cleans up his messes.”

The little genius wasn't even looking at them; he was carefully shaping the dough into even balls.

“Well,” Alfred said when all Dick did was stand there, horrified. “I believe that is more than enough discussion of below ground topics in the kitchen. Let me put them in the oven for you, young sir.”

“Bucky does the same thing. He always says no hot ovens for people under twelve.”

“A wise man indeed.”

Dick left the room without anyone but Jason noticing.

Jason couldn't sleep.

Alfred had set him and Little Jay up in one of the guest rooms, far away from the family wing at Jason's insistence. Little Jay was a comforting weight beside him. He snored softly into the pillow and gripped the duvet with surprising strength. Bucky had mentioned something about super serum and Jason was starting to realise that he probably should have been paying better attention to whatever that meant.

When the door opened, Jason realized exactly what he had been waiting for.

He knew someone would come.

Tim's eyes widened when he noticed Jason sitting up in the bed. What exactly had he expected? Was he going to shake Jason awake and just hope he didn’t get stabbed?

Rolling his eyes, Jason carefully got out of bed, making sure he didn't wake up Little Jay. He froze when Jay mumbled and shifted but he settled down once Jason ran his hand through his curls a few times.

He followed Tim out to the hallway, shut the bedroom door and leaned against it.

“What?”

Tim examined him with sharp eyes but didn't say anything.

“I'm going back into that room in the next ten seconds if you don't say something.”

This time Tim rolled his eyes. “Bruce didn't replace you. There's a memorial in the cave dedicated to you. Your room is literally still in the family wing, untouched. He didn't replace you.”

Jason hadn’t noticed the memorial earlier but he had been more focused on keeping Bruce away from Little Jay. “And yet here you stand.”

“You have to know Talia was manipulating you.”

Jason suppressed any reaction he had to Talia's name. “And how do you know that I was with her?”

“Because she contacted Bruce a few days after your whole edgy emo showdown, wondering where you were. That's when he got serious about searching for you. Before I think he just thought you were hiding out, licking your wounds.” He crossed his arms, and kept his expression firm. He looked every bit the mini CEO that he was probably being groomed to be. “But then, when Talia, with all the League resources, hadn't been able to find you, he started to really panic.”

Talia had been looking for one reason, and one reason only; she wanted Jason back as the perfect weapon to wield against her beloved. Everything she had done had been in the designs of some master plan that Jason only knew bits of. Everything was disjointed and confusing, nothing he could ever fully figure out. He knew she'd been using him, but he'd been naive enough and angry enough to think he was using her back.

Up until she had…

He didn't want to think about that.

Not now. Not ever.

“Bruce near lost his damn mind with her. I was in the cave training when she hacked into the batcomputer.” He shook his head. “Bruce was livid that she had kept you from him. She kept going on and on about you needing time to heal, time to learn how not to be a liability. How she needed you to clear the way,” he said with emphasis. “Any idea what she meant? I've been trying to figure it out but League servers are impossible to hack.”

Jason laughed. “That's why your here? To gather information for daddy?” He shook his head. He had no interest in these people's dramas. Not after weeks and weeks of calm.

He did know who she was trying to pave the way for: that tiny green eyed child. Damian. Jason couldn't leave him to grow up in the League. Not knowing how they would treat him.

He'd tell Bruce. Or leave him a message before he went back home. Since he had no intentions of talking to the man.

“No idea,” he said to Tim. He didn't even have enough anger to call him pretender or replacement. He just didn't care. “She didn't exactly tell the braindead boy shit, and once I had my faculties back, she was more about beating the shit out of me in the name of training.”

Tim sighed. “I didn't come here because Bruce asked me too.” He played with his fingers for a long moment before he said, “We met once. At a gala. I already knew Bruce was Batman. That you were Robin. And you were nice to me. No one was ever nice to me at those things. It meant a lot. Then and now.”

Jason shrugged. “I'm going back to bed before Little Jay wakes up and panics.”

“Sure,” Tim said, sounding disappointed. “Night.”

“Night,” Jason said, shutting the bedroom door and leaning against it.

He was exhausted. He wanted Bucky.

He couldn't relax here. It felt like enemy territory. Bruce could tell Talia he had found Jason, ask her for help keeping him in this universe, and agree to have her come visit. Bruce had always had a soft spot for her; she could come here and take Jason away before Bruce even realized her plan.

Ra’s would help; he was fascinated by the fact Jason had come back from the dead. It was the only reason he had granted Talia permission to use the Lazarus Pit. Ra’s wanted to figure out the mystery of Jason. He had been furious when he realized that Jason had no idea how he had come back. He had nearly killed Jason again with how badly he had beaten him.

Jason shuddered at the memory and crawled back into the warm bed beside his little brother.

Bucky would come.

Bucky had to come.

Jason still hadn't slept by the time Alfred came to get them for breakfast.

“I'm afraid they all insisted on getting up to have breakfast with you both.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Of course they did,” he replied, exhaustion coating the words. “C'mon, bug. Let's get this over with.”

Little Jay wiped sleep from his eyes. “I'll protect you, Jason.”

Jason couldn't help but lean forward and kiss his forehead. “Not happening. Bucky protects us, and I protect you, and you make sure to get somewhere safe.”

“Very sensible, young sirs. But there will be no need to protect anyone as everyone will be on their best behavior.” Alfred placed some clothes on the bottom of the bed. “These are some of Master Jason's old clothes. I believe they will fit you,” he said to Little Jay, “and I've brought you some of Master Bruce's clothes, Master Jason. I don't think anything else will fit.”

Jason stared at the pile with trepidation.

Alfred laid a soft hand on Jason's arm. “I promise you that it will be okay.”

“Why aren't you angry at me? I did terrible things.”

Little Jay threw his arms around Jason's waist and glared at Alfred as if daring him to say the wrong thing.

But everything about Alfred softened as he took in the expressions on both their faces: fear on Jason's, and fear disguised as anger on Little Jay's. “My darling boy, after everything you have been through, everything that happened to you… seeing you with your new little brother, seeing how you are clearly thriving, could only ever bring me joy.”

Jason wiped tears from his eyes. “I've really missed you. For longer than I can even say.”

“And I you.” Alfred squeezed Jason's shoulder and took in a deep breath that only shook slightly. “Now, gentlemen,” he said, voice strong again. “Let's get you dressed and down for breakfast. Do you wish to shower?”

Bruce, Dick and Tim all turned to watch them when they entered the dining room behind Alfred. Jason didn't know what expression was on Alfred's face, but whatever it was made the three of them glance away almost in unison.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, Dick beside him and Tim beside Dick. With a trembling heart, Jason sat on Bruce's other side. No way he was letting Little Jay sit by Bruce.

“I shall bring in the food now,” Alfred said with a warning in his voice. “Do try and keep the fighting to a minimum.”

“Yes, Alfred,” Dick said with an attempt at a carefree smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes. “We'll all behave.”

Little Jay rolled his eyes and took a sip of the orange juice that had already been poured. He nudged Jason's glass over to him. “It's good,” he whispered. “Have some.”

Jason took a sip and nodded. “So good,” he admitted, not even lying. Alfred laced his orange juice with some type of crack or something. “Wait until you taste his food.”

Even though it had been early in the morning in their universe, it had been later when they had arrived in this universe, so all they had eaten was the cookies before going to bed.

“Alfred is an exceptional cook,” Bruce said carefully. “He's been cooking for me my whole life.”

Jason couldn't help how his shoulders tensed at the words. He shifted so Little Jay was blocked from Bruce's view.

Neither of them replied.

Heavy, awkward silence fell.
Little Jay ignored the tension like a pro, eating French toast and pancakes drenched in syrup and making sure that Jason ate his own share as well. Any time Jason would slow down, Jay would add more food to his plate — a revolving carousel of bacon, fruit, pancakes and French toast.

It would have been funny, and sweet, if Jason hadn’t felt so tense. He almost reminded him of what it felt like to have the Joker standing over him with a crowbar.

“Can you tell us about your life there?” Dick asked after long minutes of silence.

Jason didn’t reply. Little Jay added another piece of French toast to his plate. The scrape of cutlery was the only noise for a long moment.

“You could just tell them,” Tim finally snapped. “They have a right to know.”

“Tim,” Bruce said in a low growl. “Don’t.”

Tim threw himself back against the chair and crossed his arms. “Such bullshit,” he muttered.

Little Jay ignored him, although his face was turning red with the effort of not snapping back, and nudged the syrup towards Jason. “Tastes good,” he whispered. “Even better with syrup.”

Jason grinned at him but he knew it was tight around the edges. When Jay’s small smile dimmed even more, Jason picked up the syrup and poured it over his food. He took a big bite and made himself grin as wide as he could.

“So good,” he said with his mouth full.

“Master Jason,” Alfred said, stepping into the room with a jug of juice, “manners.”

Little Jay giggled. “Yeah, manners.”

Jason laughed, choked a little on the food and then laughed again when Jason smacked him on the back.

“Jaylad,” Bruce said.

Silence landed like a boulder.

Little Jay glared at Bruce and dropped his cutlery on his nearly empty plate. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Jason would like to see the memorial in the cave.”

Jason should have known he had been listening in to the conversation with Tim. Kid faked sleep like an expert. He didn't actually want to see the memorial but he guessed Little Jay did and was using Jason as an excuse.

“Of course,” Bruce managed with only a slight pause. “If you want.”

“Bruce,” Dick hissed.

“It might help him understand that he was missed.” Bruce stood up and gestured for Jason to do the same. “I'll show you.”

“He's not going to appreciate it. Bruce, the plaque.”

Tim stood as well. “He might.”

Jason felt like he might puke with all the attention on him, but then Little Jay took his hand. “Bucky's coming soon,” he whispered. “Don't worry.”

Bruce's expression flattened at the words but he didn't say anything. Just swept out of the room, expecting all his little Robins to follow.

Even the versions that hadn’t been Robin, and those who would never be Robin again.

The memorial was the suit he died in, encased in glass, still stained with dark patches of his blood and ripped in places that made Jason's bones ache. The plaque Dick was so worried about barely even registered compared to the horror of seeing the Robin suit so destroyed, but he wrenched his gaze away eventually and forced himself to focus on the words.

A Good Soldier.

“At least I know where I stand,” he said bitterly. “Never a son. Only a soldier.”

“I don't like it,” Little Jay whispered. “You were hurt in it. I don't like it being hung up like this.”

“Me neither,” Jason agreed.

“Take it down,” Little Jay demanded. “He's right here. Take it down.”

Bruce shook his head. “It is a reminder of how I failed.”

Little Jay snorted. “You're the worst. Bucky is so much better than you. He hugs us every single day. When was the last time you hugged them?” He gestured at where Dick and Tim were standing a little bit back.

“Jay,” Dick said, “Bruce loves us.”

“He does,” Tim said, although he sounded less sure than Dick did. “This is proof. He loves Jason.”

Jason suddenly had all eyes on him which was a distinctly uncomfortable experience. Nobody but him noticed Little Jay walk off. They certainly didn’t notice him picking up a tire iron. Quite the failure for trained vigilantes.

Jason pointed at the bloody suit. “I hate that,” he snapped. “I died in it but I'm alive now. My death wasn't your greatest failure. Leaving the Joker alive was.”

“Yeah,” Little Jay said as he swung for the glass.

It smashed with an explosion of noise. Jason pulled Little Jay back to protect him from the vicious shards of glass, snapping the tire iron from his hand and throwing it down. Little Jay struggled free of his arm with a triumphant grin on his face.

“Ha!” He stepped forward and pushed over the mannequin wearing the destroyed costume. “Who has a lighter?”

Bruce took a step forward, practically growling. “How dare yo—”

“Don’t you fucking talk to him like that," Jason snapped.

“He can’t do that,” Tim said, sounding horrified. “That was precious. It’s a memorial.”

“For a boy who isn’t dead,” Little Jay said, storming forward and shoving Tim. “Jason is right there. He’s alive, and the only reason he isn’t here with you guys is because you’re all terrible.”

“You cannot not come into my cave and destroy the memory of my son—”

“He’s not your son,” Little Jay shouted. “He’s Bucky’s son and he’s my brother. You don’t even know him. You don’t know his favorite snack, or his favorite book, or how he likes sitting on the balcony because it’s up high, or how he always tells me stories about Alfred when I ask but he never ever talks about you. Any of you.”

Dick’s face fell. “Jason, please. Little Jay. We made mistakes. We know we did but Jason messed up too. He killed people. He tried to get Bruce to kill.”

“And?” Little Jay said, swinging his hands out. “So what? Bucky’s killed loads of people to keep me safe.”

Dick’s mouth fell open. “That is not okay.”

Jason grabbed Little Jay’s collar and pulled him into his chest. “Bud, stop. You won’t win this argument. Not with them.”

“We work outside the law. We cannot kill. Murder is not an acceptable response. Not to any of it. I’ve seen people murdered,” Bruce said, voice as steady as ever but Jason could hear the pain underneath. “I’ve had people die. I will not do that to another family. I won’t.”

“Does the Joker even have a family,” Jason snarked, “or are we counting Harley Quinn as his spouse now?”

Before Bruce could respond, an eruption of noise across the cave made him spin around, fists jerked up and ready. Dick and Tim ran over to the workshop counter and grabbed their weapons.

A circle of light lit up the darkness that always hung over the space. It looked like sparklers when spun too fast. Jason pulled Little Jay behind him as the bats fluttered above in the cave's dark ceiling.

The circle finally coalesced into a portal.

Bucky stepped through, silver arm shining in the golden light.

“Get the hell away from my kids,” he growled, a thousand times more scary than Bruce could ever hope to be.

Chapter Text

Bucky looked as far away as possible from the caring man that Jason knew him to be; he had on black cargo pants, heavy black boots and a black bulletproof vest. His hair was loose around his face which emphasized the expression of cold fury on it. Bucky’s metal arm was on show, glinting in the bright portal light, and he was as armed as Jason had been when he was the Red Hood. He didn't look like the man Jason knew; kind, safe, warm, loving. He looked like the Winter Soldier. He looked vicious and dangerous and someone to fear.

But then he looked at Little Jay and Jason with nothing but adoration scrawled across his features.

The tension in Jason’s chest drained away so suddenly that he felt weak with it. He couldn’t help the way his breath shuddered. He almost couldn't believe it except that he had known, somewhere deep in his bones, that this was the only outcome.

Bucky had come for them.

Bucky would always come for them.

Slade — and Jason shouldn't be as shocked as he was by his appearance; of course he would come for Little Jay, he had promised — walked through the circle. Steve followed close behind. Slade was in full Deathstroke costume, and Steve was dressed in a much more appropriate navy stealth uniform. He had his shield on his back and a dark cowl on his face. Jason thought he could maybe see Natasha and Clint waiting on the other side, too.

An overwhelming sense of safety rose up like a wave — washing away from the rancid fear that had clung to Jason since he'd first been dragged into this universe — before it ebbed back out when he saw Bruce shift into a fighting form.

The only noise for a long moment was the bats squeaking and rustling above them, irritated by the portal light.

Everyone seemed frozen for a moment, unwilling to break the uneasy peace. Then there were a few minute shifts, people readying themselves to fight, tiny, near-imperceptible actions that would’ve been invisible to the untrained eye.

And then Little Jay moved.

“Dad,” he shouted, running around Jason and across the cave. His shout and pacing feet irritated the bats even further, and they took off, flapping angrily above them.

Bucky bent down to catch him and wrapped his arms around him, expression as soft as ever. He breathed Little Jay in like he'd been missing for years, not hours.

“Jaybug,” he said, so quietly it was a strain to hear him. “No more adventures for you, okay?”

“None,” Little Jay agreed, voice wet with tears. “I knew you'd come. I knew it.”

“Always,” he promised. Sincerity laced the words. Sincerity, and a sort of desperate love. Like Bucky was drowning a little in it.

Jason was pretty certain Bucky had on black eyeliner, and the image of Bucky standing in front of the mirror and actually putting it on, made a hysterical giggle crawl up his throat. He swallowed it down and took a step forward, heart pounding against his sternum. “Bucky?”

Bucky's eyes shot to him and relief made the lines on his face disappear. He kept Little Jay pressed into him as the boy gestured a little desperately at Jason to come over to them.

“Jason,” Bucky said, desperation and fear lacing the word. “Come here, kid.” It made tears prick at Jason's eyes; Bucky sounded as concerned about Jason as he did about Little Jay. Like they were equal. Like they were both Bucky's kids. Bucky repeated it: “C’mere. Please.”

Jason stumbled forward but Bruce — no, not Bruce, not with the slope of his shoulders and his fisted hands — Batman was suddenly standing in front of Jason, muscles in his back hard and tense.

Batman threw out an arm when Jason shifted, keeping himself between Jason and Bucky, while driving Jason back. “Who the hell are you?” he growled at Bucky. “What did you do to my son?”

“He’s not yours,” Little Jay cried.

Jason froze when Dick and Tim came up on either side of him, already armed and posed to fight. They blocked him in, a triangle of fighters stopping him from reaching Bucky.

Who really had come for them.

Just like Little Jay had said he would.

Just like Jason had hoped he would.

He had come for them.

“Deathstroke,” Dick growled, although it wasn't quite as impressive as Batman. He just couldn't get his voice low enough. “What the hell have you done with my brother?”

Jason scoffed. Suddenly he was Dick's brother. Even though the man had basically ignored him for the entirety of his three years in the manor.

“Holy shit, Grayson.” Slade's voice was all indulgent amusement. “You grew up.” Slade had as many weapons as Bucky but he also hadn't drawn anything. “I dunno what our relationship is in this universe, I'm assuming it's not friendly, but right now, you need to step away from Jason and give him back to us. I won't be asking twice.”

“Jason, you okay?” Steve asked, voice heavy with concern.

Jason nodded, wishing he could get closer to them. Wishing he was safe. So glad that Little Jay already was.

“Jason.”

Jason’s eyes shot to meet Bucky’s.

“We’re going home, okay? We’re gonna do it without any bloodshed.” Bucky’s voice was calm, authoritative. “The portal will hold for now. There’s enough time for you to say your goodbyes.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman growled again. “He’s staying here with us.”

Bucky ignored him. “Jaybug, do you want Slade to hold you, or Steve?”

Little Jay glanced around, taking in the whole scene, before he said, “Slade.”

Bucky nodded, and handed him to Slade, before putting his hands up. It didn't really have the effect Jason assumed that he wanted because all the movement did was draw attention to the many guns and knives strapped to his body.

“I’m just here for my kids,” he said with the tone of someone talking to a wild animal. “We’re not here to fight.” He sounded sincere but he smirked something mean and vicious. “As much as I would enjoy kicking your ass for what you did to Jason, I’m not going to, because we’re all going to be adults about this and look after the kids.”

Steve stepped up to Bucky’s side. “We’ll give you time to say goodbye to him,” he said. “But we are taking him with us. There is no way you don’t have someone who has already confirmed that Jason isn’t part of this universe anymore. He can’t stay here. He has to come home.”

Batman shifted again, blocking Jason’s view of Bucky. “We’re going to reverse it. Jason is staying here.”

Jason tried to back away. The triangle they'd formed around him stopped him from moving forward, but if he could get away from them, get behind and around them, then he could make it to Bucky. But as if he had read his goddamn mind, Tim fucking Drake moved at the same time Jason did, popping out his bo-staff and pressing it up against Jason's back with surprising strength.

Jason glared at him.

“You’re staying, Jason,” he said insistently. “Bruce needs you. You have no idea how bad it was when you were gone, and it's been even worse these last few months. You have to stay and fix this.”

“I don't have to fix shit,” Jason snapped. “None of these people are my family. Except Alfred.” He pointed to Bucky and Little Jay and said, “They’re my family.” He couldn’t believe the relief of saying those words, in believing those words.

Tim glared right back. “You're so wrong.”

“Fuck you,” he replied, hating how he could feel everyone's eyes on him. “Move your little stick, Boy Wonder, before I break it.”

“Jason,” Dick said, voice all losing his vigilante growl. “You can’t leave us again. You can’t.”

“You didn't even want me when I was here the first time. What? My death suddenly made me worthwhile?” Frustrated, Jason flipped over the bo-staff and out of the claustrophobic triangle. “Fuck you, Dick. Fuck you.”

He raised his fists when both Dick and Tim spun around to face him.

“Try it,” he snapped.

“Jay, stop,” Bucky said, voice holding enough tension that Jason froze. “Just for a second. We don’t need to escalate.”

“They won’t let me go,” he said, words shaking. “They won't ever let me go.”

A polite cough broke through the deadly silence.

“Gentlemen, I don’t think we need to end this in a fight,” Alfred said with his usual calm. There was a duffel bag at his feet and a tray in his hands. “Do you have time for a cup of tea before you leave? Young Master Jason made cookies yesterday that are quite delightful.”

Little Jay puffed up with pride, relaxing in Slade's arms. “I did, Buck. I made really good cookies. Alfred shared his super secret recipe with me.”

Bucky still hadn’t taken his eyes off Jason. “We have about half an hour. I’m happy to talk it out but I want Jason with me. I don’t trust him near my kid.”

Batman stepped forward, hand going to a batarang on a nearby table. The sharp blade glinted in the portal light. Jason could feel the blood on his throat; he jerked his hands up and squeezed as tightly as he could to stem the bleeding. He scurried back, hitting a wall with a soft whine.

“Don’t, Bruce,” he begged uselessly. Bruce would never save him. He would always choose the Joker. “Please. Don’t.”

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn't breathe.

He closed his eyes and tried to force some air in. He could hear arguing, could hear the sounds of violence, and then there was a cold hand and a warm hand on his face.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered. “I need you to move your hand, okay? Jay, take your hand down.”

The shock of finally feeling safe had him loosening his fingers and inhaling raggedly.

He fell into Bucky’s chest and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Don’t let them keep me. Please, dad,” he whispered, barely a breath of noise.

He didn't feel scared, finally saying what had been playing on the edges of his subconsciousness for months. He mostly just felt tired. After what felt like days of constant surveillance, of protecting Little Jay, and being on edge all the time, having Bucky that close made the tension fall from his muscles like rainwater off an umbrella. He wanted to go home.

Bucky tightened his arms around Jason’s shoulders and somehow managed to pull him even closer.

“I would never let anyone take you from me. I love you. You’re my kid.”

Jason gripped the straps on his vest, refusing to let go. He could hear movement around them: heated voices, shuffling bodies, calm words and angry ones. He buried his head in the crook of Bucky's neck, not even caring that the hard edges of his vest dug into his forehead.

“I kept Little Jay safe,” he whispered, knowing Bucky would hear him. “I didn’t let anything happen to him.”

Bucky's hand stroked through his curls. “I knew you would. Didn't doubt it for a second.”

“Master Jason,” Alfred said quietly, just a step away from them. “Would you please join me for one last cup of tea before you leave? I would like to say a proper goodbye this time.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, young sir.”

Jason nodded. “Okay, Alfie. We can do that.”

It still took him a long minute to separate himself from Bucky. As always, Bucky held him for as long as Jason wanted him too, only letting go when Jason did. He sort of wanted to keep holding some part of him — his vest, or his metal wrist — just so he could be sure Bucky was actually there, but he didn't want to show that kind of weakness in front of Bruce.

Instead, he straightened up and faced his past.

He was almost amused when he turned and saw Alfred had set up with what looked like a full tea service on the conference table where they usually planned missions. He must have brought a trolley down to the cave as soon as he realized what was happening, or maybe it had been a planned treat after breakfast. Alfred and Little Jay had been talking about afternoon tea when they’d been baking — Little Jay had been asking about doing it with his cookies. Maybe Alfred just sped up the timeline.

The Bats sat at one end of the table, and Steve, Slade and Little Jay at the other. Little Jay waved them over from where he was sitting on Slade’s lap.

Slade was glaring like he would kill anyone who came near the kid. He probably would, knowing Slade.

Jason was starting to see how different this Slade was to the one he had known. Was starting to think it would probably be nice to have him in his corner. To have people other than Bucky to rely on.

Maybe. Just a little.

“Did you know my identity before you broke into my cave?” Bruce growled, glaring across the cave. “Or is my alternate self’s identity compromised now as well? Was it imperative that Deathstroke knew our identities?”

“Stop panicking, Bruce,” Jason said as he walked over to the table with Bucky and Alfred. “They all know who you are. Batman in our world is a dickhead as well.”

“Language, young sir,” Alfred said as he sat down in the middle of the table as if bridging the gap between the two warring parties.

“Sorry, Alf,” Jason said as he sat down beside Steve. Bucky sat on his other side. Protecting him. Keeping the Bats away from him. “Say what you have to say. The clock is ticking.”

“Jason. Jaylad.” Bruce's voice broke just a little on the nickname. “I’m sorry, son. I swear it was an accident. I swear that I never meant to—”

“Cut his throat?” Slade asked dryly. “Dress him in tights when he was a child and send him out to fight criminals in one of the world’s most dangerous cities?” He focused the full weight of his attention on Tim. “How old are you, kid?”

Tim jerked at suddenly being addressed. His teacup landed on his saucer with a loud clink. “I’m fourteen,” he said with that same CEO confidence that had probably been trained into him since birth. “And before you start, I chose this.”

Slade snorted. “Sure ya did, kid.”

“I don’t care,” Bucky said, softly but with unwavering authority. “I’ve already had this conversation with Bruce. With Dick. In our universe. Neither of their minds were willing to be changed. I highly doubt these older versions will be any more amenable.” He suddenly sounded exhausted. “If they’re all so desperate to die, then that’s what they want. Nothing we can do. The Joker, or someone else, will kill another one of Batman's sidekicks, and he’ll let him live, because all Batman cares about is his own moral code. He doesn’t know what it is to be anything but his vengeance.”

“That’s not true,” Dick said. “We’re his sons.”

“I don’t think this is important right now,” Steve said before taking a sip of his tea. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. We’re taking the kids somewhere safe where they don’t have to fight a war as teenagers. Where they can both finish school and go to college and live safe, full lives. Where they have people who will kill the people who hurt them.”

“I love my sons but I will not kill,” Bruce said through gritted teeth. “It makes us no better than the criminals.”

“You left me bleeding out in a burning building while you saved the Joker’s life,” Jason spat. “How did you weigh up that equation? How did you reach the conclusion that his life meant more than mine? Did I really mean that little to you? Did I mean anything?”

“You did,” Tim interrupted before Bruce could talk. “He nearly killed himself after you died. That’s why I became Robin. To try and save him. He needed help. He was drowning.”

“It’s not your job to save adults,” Little Jay said with all the authority of a ten year old. “Adults are meant to look after themselves, and they’re meant to look after you. If Bruce couldn’t deal with his big feelings, that was on him. If he was hurting people because of those feelings, he should have been stopped. He shouldn't have been allowed to keep being this.” He waved at the batsuit hanging in the corner with a sneer.

“Well said, kid,” Slade said into the ensuing silence. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Did you all know how he hurt Jason? How he choose the Joker? Did you care?” Bucky asked. “You can keep making excuses for the grown man but he’s hurting you by making you do that. He’s hurting you by letting you go out and fight. You deserve better.”

Jason felt too overwhelmed to add to the conversation. He stared down at Alfred's special brand of tea and tried not to cry about the fact this would be the last time that he would ever have it.

“You’re going to go to college?” Alfred asked into the ensuing silence left by Bucky's words. “Will you be studying literature?”

Jason forced himself to look up. “I don’t know yet. I'm still trying to figure out how to finish high school. Little Jay studies at home. I think I might do the same.” He wrapped trembling fingers around the warm cup. “I think, if I do make it to college, I might like to teach, or write.”

“Two fine careers,” Alfred replied, taking a sip of his tea. “Ones that would suit you well, I believe. And you, young Master Jason, what would you like to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” Little Jay said, nibbling on a cookie. “But I’m definitely going to college. I’m going to study something cool though. I’m already doing freshman literature reading and I’m only ten.”

“Very impressive indeed.” Alfred poured more tea into Steve’s cup before turning his focus on Bucky. “We haven’t been introduced but I have heard much about you.”

Little Jay hadn't actually stopped singing Bucky's praises when they'd been making cookies. It would have amused Jason how much Little Jay clearly loved Bucky if he hadn't found himself joining in with his own stories. Gushing about him in the exact same tone of voice; adoration and admiration mixed into one.

Bucky nodded. “I assume you’re Alfred. Jason had spoken to Little Jay about you quite a bit. It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you, sir. Nice to meet the person who has taken in my dear grandson.”

“Alfie,” Jason whispered, cheeks burning. “You can’t just say that. Out loud.”

Alfred chuckled. “If I can’t embarrass you now, when will I get the chance?” His smile dropped. “I am happy for you, Jason. I am so happy you have found a safe home.”

“Alfred,” Bruce snapped. “They are not taking him.”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred snapped in a way that Jason had never heard from him. “You and I will be having a conversation about exactly what happened that night. You have clearly kept some details to yourself.”

“Alfred,” Dick said.

“No,” Alfred said coldly. “We will also be discussing what will be happening with this underage vigilantism. I have been quiet for too long. There will be changes happening. Make no mistake about that. Retiring Robin will be the first one.”

“No,” Tim cried, almost dropping his cup in shock. “You can’t take Robin from me. I earned it.”

“You don’t earn love,” Little Jay said pompously. “You shouldn’t need Robin to be loved.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tim replied but his cheeks were burning.

Little Jay stuck his tongue out at him.

Tim scrubbed his eyes, and said mournfully, “I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking to me.”

Little Jay stuck his tongue out again. “You're just mad because you know I'm right.”

He climbed off Slade’s lap, pushing his reaching hands off with a huff, awkwardly climbed over Steve’s and Jason’s legs, and landed on top of Bucky in a confusion of limbs.

He stole Bucky’s cookie and grinned at Jason. “Told you he’d come.”

Jason smiled back softly. “Yeah, you did.”

“Seven minutes,” Slade said. “Last words.”

“I just want to go home,” Jason said, taking his last sip of tea and relishing the taste. It reminded him of afternoons in Alfred's kitchen, watching him cook as Jason told him about his day. He stood up, hating the feeling of eyes on him. “Thanks,” he said quietly when Alfred stepped around the table. “Thank you for everything. For giving me a home, and feeding me, and being my… being my granddad. Can I… can I hug you?”

“Of course, my boy,” Alfred said, pulling Jason into him. “You are one of the best things that ever happened to me,” he said quietly. “I love you, young sir. I will always hold a place for you in my heart, and a place for you at my table. If you can ever come visit, if that is a possibility, I want you to know you will always be welcome.”

He nodded, leaning into the hug before finally managing to tear the words that had been sitting in his chest free. “Find Damian Al Ghul,” he said urgently, low enough only those with enhanced hearing would know. “He's Bruce and Talia's son. Get him here and keep him safe. Please.” Jason pulled back and wiped his eyes.

Alfred stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide, before he nodded. “Of course, my boy. Anything.”

Jason wiped his eyes again. “I love you, Alf,” he whispered.

“Indeed,” Alfred said, just managing to regain his composure with a quick sniff. “I have packed you some things to make this new universe a bit more like home.” He picked up the duffel bag and handed it to Jason. “Some pictures, some old books. Bits and bobs. I hope they are to your liking.”

Jason hung the duffel off his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said as sincerely as he could manage. He hoped Alfred realized he was thanking him for more than just the duffel bag.

“Of course.” Alfred turned away swiftly but Jason still saw the bright sheen to his eyes. “And you, young Master Jason, it was so nice to meet you. You reminded me of another young boy we took in, and it was nice to relive those memories.”

Little Jay beamed. “It was nice to meet you too.”

“Three minutes.” Slade stood, nodding at Alfred. He walked over to the portal. “Your boyfriend is pacing.”

Jason's cheeks heated up. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well, he sure wants to be,” Slade replied with a smirk.

“Wanted to come with us, Jay. But we wouldn’t let him. Teenagers don’t get to go to alternate dimensions without their aunt’s permission.” Bucky threw his arm around Jason’s shoulder while cradling Little Jay on his hip. “Time to head home.”

Jason nodded. “Dick, it was nice to see you again, I guess. Tim, try not to die. If you do, Bruce will just have the suit filled in six months. Bruce. Bye.”

“Jaylad, I’m so sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to—” Bruce took a step forward, hands outstretched. “Please, don’t go. I’ll be better. I swear I’ll be better.”

Jason shook his head. “I have better, Bruce. I don’t need you anymore. I have a real family. I have a real brother and a real dad. You never cared about me. Not really. You only ever cared about what I could do for you.” He couldn't stop the tears from falling and he wiped his cheeks viciously. “I thought you loved me, but I was just a good soldier, I guess.”

“Hey, Jaybug,” Bucky said softly after glancing over at the mess Jason had pointed out. “Could you go to your brother for a second?”

“I can walk, Bucky,” Little Jay whined even as he crawled onto Jason’s back. He blushed as Bucky kissed his forehead, and then Jason blushed when Bucky kissed his forehead. “Dad,” Little Jay whined again, burying his face in Jason’s shoulder.

Bucky smiled at them both before he walked over to Bruce. He extended a hand like he wanted to shake, and Bruce stood warily, glaring at Bucky without returning the gesture.

Even still when Bruce straightened up, Bucky said, “Good man.”

Then Bucky punched him, hard enough that Bruce fell to the ground like a rock. He hadn't even used his metal hand. “That’s for hurting my kid. You’re goddamn lucky I don’t have any longer or you wouldn’t be walking away from this. You might be too chickenshit to kill for your kids but I sure as hell have no problem with it.”

Bruce glared up at him, blood staining his teeth. “Fuck you.”

“Be better,” Bucky snarled. “For them at least. They deserve it.”

“We gotta go, Buck,” Steve said into the shocked silence. “We only have a minute.”

“Oh wait,” Little Jay said, pushing at Jason until he let him down.

He ran over to Slade and grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the broken case. He gestured for Slade to bend down and whispered something in his ear.

Everyone in the cave watched in silence as Slade smirked with bitter amusement, pulled a lighter from one pocket and some bullets from another.

“Hold on a second,” Bruce said, relisation dulling his expression. He pushed himself up from the floor. Blood wet his lips and chin. “Stop.”

He wasn’t moving fast enough — Jason could see how shaky he was because of Bucky’s hit.

Slade broke the bullets in half and emptied them over the bloody suit. “Bit of space, kid,” he said as he stepped back, pushing Jay with him.

“Slade,” Steve said. “We're almost out of time.”

Slade laughed and handed Little Jay the lighter. He twisted and caught Bruce before he could stop the inevitable. “Go on then,” he said with a grunt as Bruce tried to escape, “it's your idea.”

Jason’s heart was in his throat.

Little Jay grinned mischievously and flicked the lighter on. Before anyone could reach him, he tossed it onto the bloody Robin suit. It took a second before the gunpowder caught with an explosion of noise and light. The damage and following years of degradation made the fire proofing on the suit useless.

It burned bright and fast.

Little Jay laughed, just as bright and just as happy. He skipped over to Bucky grinning. “Okay, we can go.”

Bucky looked like he was torn between laughing and crying. “Alright, let's go.” He took Little Jay's hand and walked over to Jason. “C’mon. Home.”

Jason nodded and followed Bucky through the portal without looking back.

Chapter Text

Jason stepped into a crowded apartment.

Before he could even really register who was there, Peter was rushing at him in a blur of red and blue. Jason's nerves were still so rattled, his system still so flooded with adrenaline, that his instinct was to attack -- but Peter already had him wrapped up tight in arms that weren't budging. Skinny as they were, they felt like iron bands around him, and it was maybe a little comforting to be held by someone that strong. Even though Jason could protect himself if he wanted to, it was nice to know that he wasn't the only one capable of it.

Just, he was tired of always protecting himself. He was starting to understand why Little Jay had surrounded himself with such dangerous adults; knowing they could stand up to aliens and demigods and Nazi death cults and interdimensional kidnapping plots made him feel certain they could stand up for him too.

He could protect himself, but with these people, he finally didn't have to. At least Bucky would kill for him, would kill to save him. Would punch out goddamn Bruce Wayne because he hurt Jason.

He finally relaxed and hugged Peter back.

Everyone was there; Clint, Natasha, Tony, Bruce, and Pepper. Stephen Strange was doing something complicated with his hands to shut the portal that he must have been the one to open.

Jason hadn’t realized how nice it would be to come home to that many worried faces. He almost felt bad about how he still didn’t expect them to care.

Although maybe they were just there for Little Jay.

Probably not, though, given how often they were glancing at him.

“Jesus, Jason,” Peter said when he finally loosened his grip a bit., “You said you weren’t a civilian but I didn’t think you were from an alternate dimension.” He hugged him tight again before pushing Jason back by his shoulders, hands fluttering like he was afraid Jason was hurt. “Don’t do that again, okay? Don't go where I can't follow.”

“I promise to do my best,” he replied as he glanced around. He still felt one edge. Like Bruce would appear after them and drag him back to the cave and the manor and all that history. “When did you find out?”

“I called in to see you… and Little Jay. Obviously.” His voice broke on the word and he visibly swallowed. “I mean… What I meant was that I wanted to see both of you. Because you’re my friends because I wanted to be friends. With both of you. Because we’re friends.” The words tripped over themselves as they fell rapidly from his mouth.

Jason raised an eyebrow in what he knew was a cheap imitation of Bucky. “Right,” he finally agreed. “We’re friends.”

“Right. Friends,” Peter said in no way suspiciously. “ Hey, wait. Saying you'll do your best wasn't what I asked.”

Jason gave him a weary grin. “You know how it is, Pete. I can only do so much.”

“Well, at least talk to Bucky and convince him to let me come on the next rescue mission. I am literally a superhero.”

“And a teenager,” Bucky said from where he was fussing over Little Jay. The boy seemed too excited about the fact that Bucky had recused them to care about the indignity of being treated like a child.

Strange finally closed the portal behind them, sighing out a tiny breath and shaking out his shoulders. He closed his eyes for one long moment before seeming to realise he had an audience because, when he opened them again, he had the same haughty expression he had worn the last time he was over. He fixed his robes, and adjusted his cape, trying to get it to lie flat. It kept trying to get over to Little Jay, who was now letting Natasha and Clint look him over.

“Well, since I have solved your little problem,” he said, voice smooth and rich, “I shall be going. Try not to be pulled into another universe again. You would not believe the power expenditure required to get you both home.”

“Not our choice,” Jason said waspishly. “Constantine pulled us through.”

“That amateur.” He shook his head. “I will have words with him on trespassing in our universe. Tony. Sergeant Barnes.”

With a flourish of his hands, he disappeared through another portal.

“Well, he sure does enjoy his dramatic exits,” Tony said, raising a glass of champagne. “Good to have you kids home. The Tower was much less snarky without you. Although Spiderboy here tried to do his bit to make us all feel terrible and old.”

Peter grinned. “I had to double my meanness to make up for both of you.”

Little Jay laughed. “Good work.” He pushed away Clint's hands and climbed up on Bucky's back, tucking his face into his neck. “What time is it? I'm tired.”

“Late enough that it's early,” Slade said from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

“Right.” Peter scrubbed the back of his head, but with the mask on he had no hair to mess up. “I better get going. I don’t want anyone to figure out who I am.”

“Too late, kid,” Slade said as he wandered past them, packing up his gear. “You think we were going to let you visit the kids without doing a background check?”

Peter froze.

“Slade, don’t scare him,” Steve said. “Don't worry, kid. We won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with us. But Slade’s right. We couldn’t let you around Jason and Jay without us being sure you wouldn’t hurt them. We had to check.”

Jason felt a flash of protective fury. “You guys are really disrespectful about this shit, aren’t you? Slade I understand.” He flailed his hands around and Slade snorted. “But you guys don’t seem to understand the whole secret identity thing at all. You can’t just go background checking every vigilante you meet. That’s bullshit.”

Steve examined Jason. “Maybe you’re right, but we’re not ever going to put you or Little Jay at risk like that.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.” He grabbed Peter’s wrist. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

“I've got to head out too,” Slade said. “I've a job in Gotham.” He laughed when Steve glared at him. “Not like that. I already told you I don't take those types of jobs on this side of the country anymore. This is some light B&E. Corporate espionage. Nothing illegal.”

Little Jay giggled. “All of that is illegal.”

“Only if I get caught, kid.” He walked over and ruffled Little Jay's hair. “Don't go disappearing on us again for at least six months. I don't think your dad's heart can take it.”

“Promise,” he said cheerfully. “We need Bucky fit and healthy.”

“Thanks, Slade,” Bucky said. “I appreciate it.”

Slade shrugged. “A promise is a promise.” He winked at Jason as he left with a short wave to everyone else.

“I’m sorry about them,” Jason said on the balcony. “I never would have let them do that if I had known.”

“It’s fine. I guess I should probably trust the Avengers.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, no. We’re starting your training on Monday. Might as well take advantage of their gym since they already know who you are. I can teach you how to be a proper vigilante.”

“What do you know about it?”

“More than you apparently.” He pushed Peter back by the shoulder. “Go on then. Jump up on the parapet and give them all heart attacks when you dive off. It’ll be fun.”

Peter laughed. “Want me to tightrope across it first?”

“Obviously.” Jason stepped back, making sure there was a clear view of Peter through the patio doors. “Go on then. Impress me.”

He knew he was flirting, knew he would have to get control of it, but Peter almost seemed like he was flirting back, so maybe Jason would call it quits when he did. Peter tilted his head before he flipped twice and landed on the edge of the glass. He tottered back and forth, pretending to lose his balance with flailing arms.

Jason laughed. “Boo. More flips.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

Peter rolled onto his hands, lifting one away and until he was balancing on one finger. This high up the wind buffeted him so he swayed back and forth, legs kicked up in a V shape.

“Impressed yet?”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“Tough crowd.”

Jason smirked. “Go away. I have a whole bunch of adults to calm down before they suffocate me.”

“With love.”

“With overprotective bullshit.” He shooed Peter away. “I can look after myself. They just don’t care.”

Peter flipped back to standing. He crouched down, still on that inch wide piece of glass. “Or they care too much. You should have seen them when you two were gone. It wasn’t just Bucky who was freaking out.”

“Bucky doesn’t freak out.”

“Yeah, well, maybe not freaking out. But quiet and… scary, I guess.” He shrugged. “Everyone else was strategizing and figuring shit out, calling in favors and doing research. And Bucky just sat there. Silent in the middle of this storm of activity.”

Jason’s heart was pounding, and he wasn’t sure why.

“Slade arrived and he just sat with him. Neither of them even talked. Steve was organizing everyone. The wizard dude appeared, and the three of them left. They came back all suited up. Like a three man army. Bucky tucked a picture of you and Little Jay into one of his many pockets and off they went.”

“But not before they stopped you from coming.”

“Which is ridiculous because they might be super soldiers but I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than them.”

“You could beat Steve. Maybe. But only because he’s a sledge hammer like you. Slade would destroy you in five moves. Bucky in three.”

“Two,” Bucky said from behind him. “C’mon inside, Jay. It’s cold out here.”

Jason shivered as soon as Bucky said the words, noticing the chill across his skin. “Yeah, okay. See you later, man.”

“Bye,” Peter said, dropping off the balcony with a shout of laughter.

Bucky rolled his eyes, wrapped an arm around Jason’s shoulders and guided him back into the apartment.

“Bed, Bucky?” Little Jay asked when he saw them.

“Yeah, Jaybug,” Bucky replied, sounding utterly exhausted. “Bed.”

Little Jay wouldn't let Jason sleep by himself. He insisted on sleeping in his bed with Bucky guarding the door. Jason hated that it actually made him feel better, knowing that everyone important was near him, and that he himself was safe.

Bucky wouldn't let anything hurt Little Jay.

Or Jason either.

He believed that now.

Even though he was in the middle of a workout, Jason noticed when Natasha came into the gym. It was the first time he had left the apartment in over two weeks; of course she would find him.

It had taken him almost a week to feel safe leaving his bedroom, and then another week to build up the courage to come down to the gym during his allotted time. He knew Stark had updated his security, he knew the Batman of this world wasn’t the Batman of his world, he knew no one could get him, and yet.

And when he had finally made himself come down, Natasha had found him almost instantly. She probably didn’t want him escaping if she had come down too late, and he was mostly finished. But she definitely wanted him to see her — if she didn't, she would have made herself harder to spot. And probably wouldn't have used the normal entrance.

He finished his warm up kata and grabbed his towel, wiping the sweat from his face. Once his eyes weren't obstructed with sweat and he'd drank enough water to ease the ache in his throat, he faced her.

“Can I help you?”

She watched him from the edge of the mat, feet hip width apart and arms crossed loosely. “You have good form.”

“Thanks, but I got enough critiques from Talia. I don't need it from you.”

She arched an unimpressed eyebrow. “I remind you of her.”

He didn't say anything, didn't move.

“When I broke free of the Black Widow program, I avoided working for people who reminded me of my trainers. When I let Clint catch me and bring me into Shield, there was one man I refused to interact with at all.” She let her arms fall loose, looking like she wanted to place them on her hips, but she kept her posture open instead. “It was a weakness but I allowed myself to have it. It wasn't obvious, nothing I did back then would ever be considered as pedestrian as having an obvious tell, but Clint picked up on it, noticed, and made sure that I never had to deal with him.”

Jason still didn't trust her, maybe trusted her even less because of this display of vulnerability. Talia used to do the same thing.

“That can't happen here,” he said simply. “Little Jay needs you. Loves you.”

“I love him.” She said it with the awkward pronunciation of a newly learned language. She examined him; eyes as sharp as Bruce's and as unforgiving as Talia's. “I could love you too.”

Jason shook his head. “I don't need you to. I have Bucky and Little Jay. I don't need anyone else.”

“We all need people.”

“I don't want your pity or your obligation. I have no interest in it.” He threw the towel around the back of his neck, letting it dry the sweat there. “And I don't want to earn it.”
He knew who he was. He knew he was hard to love. But that didn’t mean no one loved him—Bucky did, and so did Little Jay. Slade and Steve at least liked him. And Peter… Well, he didn’t know yet. “Even if you did somehow end up loving me, I'd just do something to ruin it.”

She visibly softened. “I hate you talking about yourself like that.”

“No,” he shot back. “You hate me talking about Little Jay like that but I'm not him. Bucky got to him in time. He's gonna be so fucking loved. Like he deserves.”

“And you?”

He raised an eyebrow at the vagueness instead of answering.

She prompted, “What do you deserve?”

He laughed, and somehow it wasn't nearly as bitter as it would have been even a few months before. “I have everything I deserve. Everything I need.”

“Friends, then.”

He shook his head. “I can't relax around you. I'm constantly waiting for the test.”

She hummed as if what he said was totally normal. “I'll ask Clint. See what he did to get me to trust him. We'll work on it.” She said it with such seriousness that he didn't doubt that she wouldn't at least try. “I'll figure this out.”

She turned and left without as much as a goodbye.

Bemused, Jason watched her go.

Jason was sitting on the balcony, staring at a brochure for Empire State College when he heard the now familiar twack of Peter’s webs. Peter had been by every day since they’d gotten back, appearing at any time day or night to chat to Little Jay. To talk to Jason too. Although he didn’t want to get his hopes up. They were friends, and nothing else.

He hid the brochure under the others Little Jay had gifted him at breakfast with a cheeky smile. Apparently, you could order college brochures online. Apparently, Little Jay thought he was hilarious.

He glanced up when Peter landed on silent feet. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He took a step forward and then one back. “How you feeling?”

“Tired,” Jason admitted. “Not sleeping that well.”

“Jay still in your bed?”

“Not every night. He’s having nightmares sometimes, and when he does he wants me and Bucky in the room with him.” He pulled his sleeves down over his hands. “I can’t sleep with other people in the room.”

“Never?”

Jason shrugged. “Kinda spent a few years in a… cult? Training camp? It was not good. They would test me by attacking in the middle of the night, and then I had some trainers who would do the same thing.”

Peter crouched down in front of him and pulled his mask off. “So when you said you weren’t a civilian, you really meant that?”

Jason curled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching forward and fixing Peter’s hair. It looked soft; he wanted to press it down and run his fingers through it. But he couldn’t, because Peter didn’t want him like that.

“I used to be Robin.”

Peter fell down on his ass. “As in Batman and Robin?”

Jason nodded.

“But how -- Robin's not -- oh, whoa.” He ran his hands through his hair and it stood up even worse. “So not a civilian at all.”

“No since I was twelve. And even then I’d been living on the street for three years.” He wanted to pull his hood up and hide from the soft look Peter was giving him. It didn’t feel like pity. It felt kinder, more gentle. “I know you don’t date civilians, but like I said before, I haven’t been a civilian in a long time.”

Peter stared down at his gloved hands for a long moment before he looked back up with tears in his eyes. “When Bucky told me what happened, when I found out, I was so scared. I hated that I couldn’t save you. Like I couldn’t save her.” He scrubbed at his eyes viciously. “Don’t go where I can’t follow,” he whispered. “Please.”

Jason grabbed his hands. Just to stop Peter from hurting himself. “I can’t promise that. You know that as much as I do. But I don’t want to. I don’t want any of it.”

Peter stared up at him, eyes darting over his face before landing on his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, sounding only a little unsure.

Jason’s heart thumped trumped thumped when Peter’s lips met his. They were chapped and warm and so soft. Jason had not been kissed a lot in his life: once by a girl in seventh grade, once in his freshman year, and that one time by Talia that he didn’t like to think about.

This wasn’t like any of them.

Peter seemed as nervous as he was, hand gripping his as tightly as Jason was holding on. Jason bit his lip and Peter grinned into the kiss. He wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders and pulled him as close as he could.

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

“Jason, pal, time for dinner.”

His cheeks burned as he hid his face in Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey, sir. Bucky Barnes. Sergeant. Sir,” Peter said, practically tripping backwards as he shot up and away from Jason. “I just popped by to say hi. I can go now. Thanks for… I mean… I’m going to go.”

Jason stood up, grinning when Peter shoved on his mask, jumped up onto the glass parapet and backflipped off the balcony with a whoop of joy.

“I hate when he does that,” Bucky muttered, coming to stand next to Jason.

He shrugged. “I dunno. It’s pretty fun.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around Jason’s neck and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t ever tell me you did that, bud. I don’t think my heart could take it.” He kissed Jason’s forehead and released him. “You okay?”

Jason nodded, a pleased blush settling over his cheeks. “Yeah, Buck, I’m good. I’m happy,” he admitted, terrified to even say the words. Although the bright smile that lit up Bucky’s face made them almost worth it.

“I’m glad, Jason. I’m really glad.”

The next few months passed almost softly. Easily. Like nothing Jason had ever experienced before. His whole life had been anger and violence; first Willis, then the streets, Bruce and Batman, and then death and the League. He had never gotten to live without the threat of a sword hanging over his head before. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the startling weightlessness of it.

He even had a curfew.

Which was the funniest fucking thing Jason had ever heard.

The first time he broke it, Bucky was waiting for him when he got back from his third date with Peter.

“What?” he asked when he walked into the kitchen to find Bucky leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “I’m not even that late.”

He was technically three hours and forty seven minutes late.

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a little late but I’m also two months from being eighteen and I was a vigilante for five years. Basically. I haven’t had a curfew. Ever.”

Bucky just stared.

“You’re not going to make me feel bad about this.”

Bucky kept staring, one eyebrow still arched.

“You’re not.”

Bucky didn’t move.

“Fine. Fine.” Jason threw his hands into the air. “I should have been on time. I could have texted you more. I shouldn’t have broken curfew.”

Bucky nodded. “Damn straight.” He stepped forward and kissed Jason on the temple. “No dates for a week. You’re grounded, buddy.”

“I am not.”

“Sure are,” Bucky said with a grin.

“If Jaybug wasn’t asleep right now, I want you to know I’d be slamming my bedroom door,” he whisper-shouted as he stalked down the hallway. “So you better imagine this as a slamming door.”

He shut it with a quiet click and grinned when he heard Bucky laughing.

When the big envelope arrived, Jason was alone in the apartment. Little Jay and Bucky were out on their daily walk and Peter was in lectures. He stared down at it — at the tiny Empire State logo in the corner. He’d seen enough movies to know that the big envelope meant good news.

Still, his hands shook as he tore it open.

“I got in,” Jason said, awe weighing down his voice. “Holy shit.”

He’d only applied because he had finally agreed to go back to school — well, online school — to get his GED, and then Peter had made some smart comment about Jason being too scared to apply for colleges, and suddenly he was filling in applications to prove him wrong.

He had never really grown out of the need to prove himself.

And he was pretty certain that he never would.

He heard Bucky and Little Jay coming through the door, chatting about something they had seen on the walk. They paused when they noticed Jason frozen in the middle of the sitting room. He held up his acceptance letter.

“I got in.”

Little Jay jumped up and down. “To college? You’re going to college? To actual real life college?” He whooped and threw himself at Jason, slamming into his stomach and wrapping his arms around Jason’s waist. “This is the best news ever.”

Bucky grinned something proud. “I knew you would.”

“This is one of the best literature courses in the country.” He couldn't believe it. He read the words again; he'd actually gotten in. “It was a whim. Pete practically dared me. I never thought they’d actually accept me.”

“We gotta celebrate,” Bucky said.

Jason laughed. “Yeah.” He stared down at the letter. “How am I going to afford this? It’s one of the most elite colleges in the city, and I didn’t get a scholarship.”

Little Jay pulled back. “Bucky will pay obviously. That’s what dads do.”

Bucky had come close enough to ruffle Little Jay’s hair. “Yeah, pal. You’re right. I’ll pay.”

“You can’t.” Jason shook his head. “I’ll work for a year. Get a job.”

“No,” Little Jay said “That’s boring. You have to go to college and then I can visit you anytime I want. You can sneak me into lectures.” He beamed up at Jason. “You can’t make me wait a whole year. You can’t.”

Jason laughed. “I guess not.” He glanced at Bucky, knowing that he could probably read everything written across Jason’s expression. “You’ll pay?”

“Already had college funds set up for you and Jaybug. You’re not even putting a dent in our savings.”

“And we stole that from the assholes who took me and Buck so it’s okay to spend it.” Little Jay grinned. “We had to go all around Gotham and I got to be lookout. It was super fun.”

“It was something alright,” Bucky said with little humor in his voice. “Now, can we stop worrying about money and celebrate the fact that Jason is going to college?”

“Yes!” Little Jay shouted. “Let’s get pancakes.”

They both looked at Jason with bright smiles and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay. Let’s go celebrate.”

Chapter Text

Bucky sat on the edge of Slade's truck and watched as his two sons tried to put together a tent under the bright August sun. Peter was standing back, laughing at their attempts. Little Jay had insisted that they have their birthday parties together and then Slade had offered the opportunity of camping.

Little Jay had jumped at the chance. He kept talking about how this was going to the best birthday party ever.

Considering Jay had only had one other birthday party, it wasn’t a high bar to clear. But Bucky was determined to make it great, because he’d do anything for his kid, and Jason had agreed because he was a sucker for making Little Jay happy (even if he would never admit it).

Jason was still nervous around Slade, constantly checking that Bucky was close by when Slade was near him, which made Bucky feel some kinda way. Knowing that he had finally gained Jason’s trust, that the teenager knew Bucky would always come for him, made warmth bloom under his skin.

Jason had finally started therapy too, and Bucky knew he was building up to telling Bucky about everything that had happened to him in the League. He knew that Jason had something in particular to say about Talia. Bucky was dreading hearing it, because if it was what he thought it was, he was gonna have to get Strange to open a portal so he could go and kill her.

But for now, he waited outside every appointment Jason had, just like he did for Little Jay. Jason pretended to hate it but he lit up every time he saw Bucky waiting.

Bucky would keep waiting for every inch of trust that Jason gave him. He would wait forever if that was what it took to make sure his boys knew that he loved them.

He couldn’t believe this was his life. Had no idea how he had gotten so goddamn lucky.

Steve and Slade emerged from the treeline carrying what looked like a whole tree with them.

“Thought you were getting firewood?” Bucky called as he watched them dump the trees by the tent.

“Seat and firewood,” Slade called. “Also your man here was showing off.”

“Steve!” Little Jay said, indignantly. “You can’t just tear down trees. What about the environment?”

Steve glared at Slade. “It wasn’t my fault. Someone thought it would be funny to push me.”

“He crashed right into it,” Slade said unrepentantly with a smug smirk. “And then he knocked it over with all those big muscles of his.”

Little Jay laughed. “You’re so stupid, Steve.”

Steve made an affronted noise but he was smiling. He ran over and picked Little Jay up, throwing him over and running around the clearing with him. Little Jay laughed loudly, kicking Steve and demanding help from Jason and Peter. Slade had already started ripping up the tree with his bare hands, directing Peter in how he could help when the teen wandered over to him.

As far as Bucky knew, Jason and Peter had plans to do something else next week to celebrate Jason’s birthday. The two of them were sweet: all soft looks and careful touches, gentle with each other in a way they both deserved. Bucky wasn’t sure how he’d ended up with a kid who was old enough to date, but overall, he couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend for Jason.

The only thing that gave him pause was the vigilante aspect of Peter’s life. He desperately wanted Jason to avoid getting caught up in that again, especially after all the progress he had made so far. Luckily, he had shown no interest yet, and all Bucky could do was hope.

Jason would do what Jason wanted to do. Bucky would just be there to keep him safe whatever he decided.

“Put him down, Steve, before he vomits,” Bucky called when Jay went a bit green.

Jaybug barely managed to keep his feet when he was put back on the ground. He wandered around like a tiny drunk until Jason took his shoulders and steadied him. Little Jay still had no friends his age, which worried Bucky no end, but Jason and Peter had convinced him to attend a kids’ reading group in the library. It started next week and Bucky was praying he'd find just one person his age that he would like. He knew Jaybug had suffered things that no kid his age should have gone through, but he still wanted him to have some kind of a childhood. Even if it wasn't what most people considered normal.

Slade sat down beside him, having left Peter and Steve in charge of the tree, and handed Bucky a beer. “They're okay. You don't have to sit here brooding.”

“Not brooding. And fuck you,” he added.

He laughed. “Fuck you too. All ready for the camping trip, city boy?”

“I'm the Winter Soldier. I can handle some rough terrain.”

“You were the Winter Soldier. Now you're back to Bucky Barnes, Brooklyn born and bred.” Slade took a long drag of his beer and said with a smirk, “City boy.”

“You're a menace.”

He shrugged. “Jaybug wouldn't be interested in keeping me around if I wasn't.”

“Of course I’d want you around, Slade. Even if you were boring.” Jaybug giggled as he climbed up beside Bucky. “But you should be nicer to Steve. Otherwise he’ll be sad.”

Slade grinned again. “Have you shared your chocolate pancakes with him yet?”

Jason laughed as he sat down on the other side of Bucky. “He still makes him eat the plain ones.”

“Well, he hasn’t earned the chocolate ones yet.”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Jaybug’s shoulders. “Kid, look—” He pointed over to where Steve was making a circle of stones for the fire pits. “He’s doing that for you and Jason. He wants to make it special for you.”

Jaybug’s cheeks turned red as he stared over at Steve. “For us? Not you?”

“No, kid,” Bucky said, sad that Jay still didn’t know how adored he was by everyone in his life. He put his other arm around Jason because he probably didn’t have a clue either. “He’s doing that for you. For both of you. I know you both have trouble believing it but you’re both so special. So loved.”

“Buck,” Jason said, squirming.

“Bucky,” Jaybug said at the same time.

“You can’t just say that,” they said together.

Buck kissed Jaybug on the temple and then Jason. “I can say whatever I want to my kids.”

Slade chuckled. “Aren’t you all adorable?”

Bucky could hear the jealousy in his tone. The wanting. “Jaybug, give Slade a hug. He hasn’t had one in ages.”

Jay laughed and threw himself into Slade’s arms.

Slade shot Bucky a look over Little Jay’s head but he wrapped his arms around his shoulders anyway.

Bucky pulled Jason closer into him. “How you feeling being eighteen?”

“Young,” he replied with a little bit of awe in his voice. “Hopeful.”

“Jase,” Peter called. “Should I carve actual seats into the trunk?”

Jason laughed. “I think we can probably just lean against it, Pete.”

Peter, the most city boy of city boys, looked skeptical, but he nodded. “Do we have like blankets or something? It seems… wet.”

Slade snorted and put Jaybug down. “C’mon, kid. Let’s unpack the back of the truck before it gets dark.”

Hours later, they sat around the fire, roasting marshmallows.

Jaybug was asleep, head resting on Bucky’s thigh. Slade and Steve were bickering about the right way to roast a marshmallow, and Peter was egging them both on, switching sides and winding them up with a smug grin on his face.

Jason leaned against Bucky’s side, watching the fire intently. “Last time I was this close to fire, this close to burning, I got sent here.”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders. “Jay, kid—”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how I got so lucky. Don’t know how that woman, or God, or wizard, or whatever, chose you and Little Jay. I dunno how I got so lucky,” he repeated. “But I’m so glad she chose you. I’m so glad you’re my family. I’m so glad I’m here.” He wiped his eyes. “Thanks for always coming for me. Thanks for crossing fucking universes to get us back. Thanks for being my…” He took a shuddering breath. “My dad.”

Bucky couldn’t help how his breath caught. Jason hadn’t called him that since he found them in his original universe. He hadn’t even been sure if Jason remembered saying it. The whole situation had been so stressful for him. When they’d gotten back to the right universe, Jason had reverted back to how he had acted those first few days, hiding in his room and only sneaking out when no one was around.

This time though, he let Jaybug hide with him.

And sometimes they even let Bucky come watch movies with them.

Mostly they made him sit by the door and guard it.

“You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”

“I know,” Jason whispered.

The only noise for a long moment was the crackling fire, and the sounds of the others arguing. Jason rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Little Jay let out a garbled snore. He cuddled closer to Bucky’s stomach.

“Nervous about college?”

A small smile tilted Jason’s lips up. “Excited. Really excited.”

“We have to go shopping for school supplies. You need notebooks, pens, bags. New clothes. You need a winter jacket. New shoes.”

“New shoes? Really?”

Bucky grinned. “We’ll make a day of it. Go to lunch. Get you all your books. A new haircut.”

“No. No. No,” Peter said, ignoring the argument he had been single handedly keeping going. “I like Jase’s curls.”

Jason’s blush was just visible in the firelight. “Whatever,” he mumbled. “I guess I can keep the curls.”

Peter beamed and went back to annoying Slade and Steve.

“What now?” Jason asked. “If I’m not fighting, not saving people. Is it selfish to not do that anymore? When I have the skills?”

Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d been waiting for this question for weeks, practicing his answer, and he still wasn’t sure that Jason would believe what he had to say.

“It can be hard sometimes to stop,” he admitted because it was true. “To realize that you don’t have to destroy yourself to save other people. But you don’t. Not ever again. This world had so many heroes. They don’t need us, Jay. They have everyone else. And if we ever need to save someone, we’ll just hire Slade.”

Slade snorted in response and then pushed Steve off the log he was sitting on. “You can’t afford me.”

“Bet you’d give Little Jay a discount,” Jason shot back and didn’t even tense up.

If the soft smile Slade shot him, Bucky thought he had noticed too.

“Yeah, kid, I’d probably give you and Jay a discount.” He shrugged and pushed Steve down again as soon as he got back onto the tree. “Might not even charge you at all.”

Jason nodded, and stared down at his feet. “Whatever,” he mumbled.

Bucky wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders. “I’ve got you, kid. No matter what.”

Bucky had thought he knew what those words meant when he had said them to Steve all those years ago, and then to Little Jay barely more than a year ago. But something about this vulnerable and brave teenager had taught him what it really meant. It meant being willing to cross literal universes to get his sons back. It meant being willing to never earn the title of dad once your kid felt safe and loved. It meant giving and giving and giving even when he was exhausted and cranky and just wanted to sleep or hide or disappear into his own memories, his own pain.

But he didn’t, because he chose his sons.

Every time.

Bucky had thought Little Jay’s birthday the year before was the happiest he would ever be in this century, and yet, here he sat in front of a fire, about to fall asleep under the stars with his two sons, and his boyfriend, and his son’s boyfriend, and his sons’ murder uncle.

Surrounded by family.

Surrounded by safety.

Surrounded by love.

Bucky kissed Jason’s forehead and felt the boy relax even more. “I love you, kid. So much.”

“Love you too, dad,” he mumbled, sounding half asleep. “Little Jay too.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

He felt when Jason fell asleep in, his full body weight resting against Bucky’s side. He listened to both of his kids’ breaths, deep and even, and let his eyes close. He would move them to the tent in a minute, but for now, he would sit with his boys and enjoy the moment.