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Chapter Text

Wayne Manor was often said to be one of the largest buildings in Gotham, its grounds sprawling for acres.

It seems impossible, but ask any member of the Wayne clan, and they’ll simply smile and claim it’s even bigger on the inside.

This claim was hard to deny, seeing as all social gatherings hosted by the Wayne’s were kept firmly outside, with staff members guarding each entrance.

Rumors flitted across the elite socialite circles of Gotham of Brucie’s flings getting lost among the winding halls, of rooms too large and numerous for even the mansion to contain.

This happened to pass through the mind of one Matilda Jones on the way to a party hosted by Brucie himself.

She didn’t hear much of what happened in her father’s business, but she had heard staff members whispering of the competition Wayne Enterprises had started to present. Maybe if she snuck in…? Mother had always taught her to do what it takes to get ahead.

Her mind was made up by the time the car arrived at the gates. She would sneak in through the back door and track down Wayne’s office. Matilda had always had a good sense of direction, and if she paid careful attention to which turns she made, she was confident she could pull it off.

At the party, she made her rounds to the rich and the famous, then once everyone was a few drinks in, she slipped past an absent-looking staff worker. She never made it to the back of the house, spotting an open window on the side.

After double and triple checking that nobody was watching her, she hoisted herself into the window.

Matilda landed inside, rather ungracefully, but she was in. Taking stock of the room, she noted that it seemed to be a spare sitting room. Quietly, she walked down the hall, opening each door, finding only bathrooms, closets, and living rooms. How many does one family need?

She reached a dead end, and decided to go back to the door she started at and check in the other direction. Carefully counting each door, she made her way back, only to find a completely new room.

Was she misremembering, or were those chairs leather before? She shut the door and moved to the room next to it… a windowless closet.

The next room appeared to be just a storage room, also windowless. This should be the exterior wall, why aren’t there any windows?

She kept checking each door, finding neither the office, nor a means of escape. She was completely lost, and beginning to breathe harder.

Just as tears began to prick in her eyes, she quickly spun around, bumping into none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

“May I ask what you’re doing in here?” he questioned, looking displeased.

“I’m sorry, I was looking for the bathroom, and- and I got turned around-” Matilda stuttered, knowing the man wouldn’t believe her.

“How did you get in?”

“I… I used an open window…” she quietly admitted, fighting back tears.

Bruce seemed to take pity on her. “Follow me, I’ll show you to an exit.”

Matilda wanted to cry of relief as she nodded, keeping in step behind him.

After a while of walking (Matilda suspected that he was leading her in circles just to mess with her), the two arrived at the front door, looking out at the party. Shaken as she was, Matilda called a ride to come pick her up, standing outside the gate to wait.

She shuddered at the memory of those long halls, and she was sure that the rooms were shifting….

She refused to mention it to anyone, fearing that they would think her insane, saying that she felt sick when asked why she left early. She put it all out of her mind, wishing she had never entered.

oOo

The party had ended, and Bruce made his way through the manor to the batcave, almost entirely desensitized to the subconscious pull in his gut leading him through the shifting halls.

Dick was already there, glueing on his domino mask; the final piece to his Nightwing costume.

“Care to explain why a window was open?” Bruce asked.

“Got home late from a mission with the Titans. I must’ve forgotten to close it… the party was about to start just as I got here,” Dick said sheepishly.

“A bright-eyed guest decided to climb through it. You’re lucky that climbing through tripped the silent alarm, or she’d still be there, driving herself mad. You have to be careful. You know that anyone who isn’t part of this family will get completely lost.”

“I’ll be more careful next time, old man,” he said, already walking to his bike. “Now, are we patrolling or what?”

Bruce looked over at all his kids, Dick, Cass, Jason, Tim, Steph, Duke, and Damian, all climbing into cars and bikes. His amazing children, ready to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

A fond smile pulled on his lips as he went to change into the suit

Chapter Text

Dick Grayson was eight-and-a-half when his parents fell. He was nine when he was taken in by Bruce Wayne.

He was approaching his tenth birthday when he had a nightmare that Bruce fell, just like his dad.

Trembling and crying, he shot out of bed, forgetting the number one rule.

Don’t go in the halls alone.

oOo

Dick sat in the living room, bored.

Bruce had to leave for an urgent business meeting, and Alfred was busy, so he was stuck in this boring old room.

Bruce had told him to call Alfred if he needed to go anywhere. But Mr. Pennyworth would be busy. And he was sure that he remembered the turns Bruce had taken from the game room to here. Exploring the big old house sounded fun!

A mischievous grin on his face, he dashed out of the room.

He ran through the halls for around fifteen minutes, sticking his head through a few doors to see if any of the rooms looked fun, then turned around just to be met with a wall blocking the way he had just come.

His brow wrinkled. That wall wasn’t there a second ago…. He reached out to knock on it. Definitely solid. He spun around in a circle, then opened a door that had previously held a small closet, if memory served him right. Now it was a bathroom.

What was going on? He started running down another hall. Where was Alfred? How could he have gotten himself so lost?

The halls never ended. Sweating, and definitely not crying, he kept running.

The corridor veered to the right, then split into two halls.

He chose the left one, which twisted until it came to a dead end. He spun around and found a corridor to the right that wasn’t there before. He turned down it to find a hall that curved so sharply that he must be running in circles.

He kept going, following the hallways in hopes of finding someone, anyone, who could help him. He noticed that there were no more doors, just an infinite hallway.

He stopped in his tracks, curling against the wall.

Had he survived this long just to fall into the traps of this cursed house?

He had lost track of time when Bruce found him sobbing.

The man held the boy tight. “Never wander off again….” he whispered. Dick nodded, clinging to his guardian and completely missing the sadness in his voice.

oOo

Frightened from the nightmare, Dick had only one thought. He needed his Dad.

He ran down a hallway, not paying attention to where he was going, yet he knew he’d arrive at B’s room. Something in him just knew he was going the right way.

He stopped at a certain door, no different from all the other ones, and flung it open, and found Bruce’s bedroom.

The man himself sat up in his bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes. “Dick? Is everything alright?”

The young acrobat vaulted onto the bed next to his dad. “I-I had a nightmare….”

Bruce held his son tight, slowly helping him calm down.

“Chum, is Alfred here?” he asked a few minutes after his son’s tears had stopped.

“N-no, I don’t know where he is…”

“You… found your own way to this room?”

“I did… I did!” He suddenly looked very excited, and Bruce’s heart swelled. The boy he had considered his son since taking him in had finally accepted him as family.

Chapter Text

Jason Todd had not had an easy upbringing.

Between Willis being an abusive piece of crap, Catherine being constantly high, and then her overdosing, he (quite reasonably, in his mind) had a hard time trusting people.

Especially when those people happened to be rich. The kind who would exploit the vulnerable without looking twice. A little money can make people jerks (as seen in most of the landlords he’s had, police officers, nearly everyone in Gotham’s government, and so many more).

Money is power, power corrupts.

Yet here he was, adopted by and living with a billionaire.

He told himself that it’s just so he can have steady food on the table, so he won’t have to steal things anymore, and risk getting caught.

While Bruce did seem different from the other rich exploiters of Gotham, he had one too many secrets for Jason to even consider letting his guard down.

He disappeared for hours at a time, claiming work as his excuse. But perhaps more suspiciously, there was one big rule that everyone emphasized far too much.

Don’t go in the halls alone.

Bruce or Alfred always had to be with him. Every time he wanted to change rooms.

Even Dick didn’t protest the stupid rule when he came around. Probably because he didn’t have to follow it.

Bruce had simply said that he didn’t want him getting lost. Bull. Jason had been able to find his way around Gotham’s winding alleys for years, and everyone thought he couldn’t handle one house?

Nevertheless, he followed it and allowed himself to be escorted everywhere. As much as he wanted to give the finger to Bruce and his stupid rule, he wasn’t trying to get kicked out. Having hot water and regular meals for once was nice.

Yet he couldn’t help but think of the injustice of it as Bruce suddenly disappeared on another mysterious business meeting that he wouldn’t elaborate on.

He waited for a minute, then followed out the same door Bruce had gone out.

oOo

Bruce sighed. Patrolling hadn’t felt the same since his son left. Dick getting injured on patrol had scared him into realizing that he couldn’t put any more children in the line of fire. He knew that firing him had damaged their relationship, and he’d never forget the way that Dick hesitated before making turns in the halls in the first few days after it, as if he was questioning that they were family.

He had made efforts to fix that as soon as possible. He told himself that it was just because he needed Dick to get around the manor without him or Alfred having to escort him. It was already difficult enough having to do that for Jason.

The poor boy that he’d adopted didn’t consider himself a part of the family.

Bruce told himself that it was fine. Understandable, even. The other adults in his life had failed him wholly and miserably.

But he had forgotten how it felt to have a son hesitate to call him a father, or refuse it altogether.

Part of him thought that maybe if he showed Jason the cave… showed him Batman…

No, he can’t do that. Or he’d want to jump right into battle. He can’t do that to another son.

Not that it mattered, apparently, as he’d spotted Dick trying to design a new suit for himself. He didn’t say anything, hoping his son would trust him enough to tell him when he was ready.

He sighed, wishing once more that he could tell Jason about this as he turned the clock hands in his study and stepped into the passage to the cave.

What he missed was a skinny boy peeking into the room, wide eyed and curious.

oOo

Jason understood the rule now. He had been about to call for Alfred, wandering the halls, completely lost, when he saw the door to Bruce’s office ajar.

He peeked inside just in time to see the man open a secret passageway behind the clock.

How many secrets is this old house hiding?

Trying to make as little noise as possible, he slipped in behind Bruce. The man seemed distracted, and didn’t notice him until Jason gasped. The passage led to a huge cave, decked out with various bat-themed objects.

“Jason!” Bruce gasped, cursing himself for not noticing the boy following him.

The boy looked to be feeling a mix of shock at the revelation of the cavern beneath the house and fear from being caught, his mind racing in a million different directions at once, leading him to make the connection.

“You’re Batman?!”

“No-!” Bruce automatically denied, then, “Maybe… yes. Did you follow me?”

“No? I waited for you to leave, then went in the same direction as you.”

“The manor must have led you to me…” he muttered to himself.

“What? Explain.”

“Well, you know how the manor works like a labyrinth-”

“No? What the heck are you talking about?”

“We… didn’t tell you?”

“What are you talking about? And why are we skipping over the fact that you’re Batman?!”

“The manor… isn’t normal. Anyone who doesn’t consider themselves a part of the Wayne family will be hopelessly lost without a Wayne to guide them.”

“That’s why you have that stupid rule?!”

“Yes, we put it in place for your own good. The times Dick got lost before he accepted me as his dad…”

“If you’re Batman, does that mean that Dick was Robin?”

“Yes, he was, but it’s far too dang-”

“Can I be the next Robin?” Jason asked, eyes wide with hope.

And Bruce, well, his heart melted seeing his son happier than he had been the whole time he’d been living with him.

“I… I suppose I could train you a little…”

oOo

Three months later, Jason made his debut as Robin, feeling its magic for the first time.

A month after that, he called Bruce Dad, and the fact that Bruce bought him ice cream after patrol was totally unrelated. Completely. Why would anyone suggest that it was related?

Within the week, Jason discovered that he could feel a tug in his mind as he walked through the manor.

After a month, he was excused from the escort rule, fully able to find his way around the labyrinthine halls.

Chapter Text

Tim was realistic.

He knew Bruce was a grieving father, and not his father.

He knew he wasn’t Jason, but that Bruce sometimes forgot that.

He knew he was a Drake, not a Wayne, no matter how much he wished it could be the other way.

He was reminded of it all during patrol.

It was a rough week for everyone, with Jason’s birthday approaching and Joker out of Arkham.

Tim reminded himself of the fact that this was why he chose to become Robin as he took off his domino and examined the bruise forming on his cheek.

It’s not a big deal. It won’t be the first time he’s had to cover up a bruise from patrol with makeup.

But it is the first time it’s come from Batman.

It’s just part of Robin’s job, Tim thought. I couldn’t let him kill the Joker…

It had taken calling Superman to get Batman off the rogue. And Tim had simply taken a hit in the process.

It could have been the punch that destroyed his moral code. Joker couldn’t take much more.

After showering, definitely not shedding a few tears when the water would take it away, changing into regular clothes, and applying makeup to cover the bruise, he walked back into the cave to find Bruce going to town on a punching bag. Deciding he needed space, Tim left to go up into the manor.

He texted Dick that he was coming up, and got a thumbs up in response.

Upon getting to the office before Dick, he set off to find a bathroom, surely there would be one around here somewhere. He poked his head into every door in the hall before giving up and deciding to head back to the office to find Dick.

Except the office wasn’t in the right door.

Shoot.

Had he really let one silly, emotional night cause him to forget about the labyrinthine halls?

He couldn’t get out.

He couldn’t find Dick or Alfred.

He couldn’t breathe-

The endless hall seemed to shrink in on him while becoming longer-

How could he be so stupid? He was better than making stupid mistakes like this!

His heart beat faster and faster and he tucked himself into a corner and wiped off tears. When had he started crying?

oOo

“Timmy?” Dick called, seeing the empty office. Shoot. The boy had wandered off.

He needed to find Tim. The familiar tug told him the direction he needed to go.

He found his little brother having a panic attack. Dick was quick to reach him, gently guiding him through it.

“Th-thanks…” Tim said after calming down.

“Are you alright?” Dick asked, taking in his bloodshot eyes and the bruise, blossoming purple and brown on his cheek.

Tim avoided eye contact, turning his face so the bruise was hidden from Dick’s view. “I’m fine… could you show me to the exit? It’s about time I get home…”

He was clearly lying. Usually he’d give Dick at least something to explain the injury, even if it’s just, “Some goon got a lucky shot.”

“You’re not staying the night?”

“No… my parents will be expecting me…”

Dick bit his tongue. He knew Timmy’s parents were in Africa right now.

“Sure, Timmy…”

He led his little brother to the door, giving him what Jay used to call his “octopus hugs.”

“Bye, Dick.”

“I’ll see you later!”

Once he’d left, Dick made his way to the cave to find Bruce, still in the Batsuit, sans cowl, looking at Jason’s memorial, the plaque reading, “Jason Todd, A Good Son.”

“B?”

“What?” Bruce snapped, coming out of his thoughts.

“What happened on patrol? Timmy had a bruise, but he won’t talk about it.”

“Nothing.” Dick frowned.

“Right. Dad, I think it’s time you head up. Alfred has a plate warm for you.”

“Hn,” Bruce hummed, stalking off.

Dick sighed and pulled up the cowl footage from the night. It started pretty normal.

Then the new Dynamic Duo found the Joker.

Dick watched the footage, only hours old, of Burce punching out his grief on his Little Wing’s killer.

He stood up, covering his mouth in shock when he watched his dad’s gloved fist collide with his baby brother’s face.

This has gone on for too long.

He took a picture of the horrible scene, and went to confront Bruce.

oOo

“Dad!” Dick calls, throwing the door open, fuming. “This has gone on for too long.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce growled, subconsciously moving into a more defensive stance.

“What. Happened. On. Patrol.”

“That is none of your business.”

“You hit my little brother! I don’t care how much you miss Jason! That is too damn far!”

“You didn’t lose a son!”

“I lost a brother! And you’ll lose another two sons if you can’t get your crap together!” Dick shouted. Sometimes, that was the only way to get through Bruce’s skull, and it seemed to have worked, as Bruce flinched like Dick had slapped him.

Dick took a step back to breathe when Bruce didn’t reply immediately.

“Tomorrow, you’re going to therapy. And I’m spending time with Tim. Not in the mansion. Do you understand?”

“You c-”

“Do you understand?” Dick was seething.

Bruce looked down at his hands. “Yes.”

Chapter Text

hey timmy?
i’m sorry about b
why don’t we do something together?

Sorry, I’m busy with homework today.

please?
for me?
tim
tim
timmy
please
i barely see you
plsplspls

Fine. I’ll come to the manor in ten minutes.

i’m already outside!!

Tim was at the window within seconds, and sure enough, Dick was there, waving from one of the old cars.

He sighed, knowing that he should be spending this time on school or solving cold cases. But he really didn’t feel like trying to get Dick to stop annoying him all day.

It definitely wasn’t because he still looked up to Dick from that one hug at the circus and hated to disappoint him almost as much as his parents.

He glanced in the mirror to check that the bruise was completely covered. Of course it was. He’d been covering bruises for years. He knew how to do it. Dick was just a detective, and that’s why he wanted to make sure it looked natural.

Of course, his makeup had been completely ruined after his little panic attack. Dick had definitely seen it.

But maybe Alfred hadn’t, and he didn’t want him to worry.

He checked a final time before walking out to the car and buckling up in the passenger seat.

“Hey, Timmy,” Dick said, leaning over to give him an awkward hug. Was it just Tim, or did his smile look slightly pained? “So, where do you want to go?”

“Weren’t we going to the manor? Or the cave? To train?”

“Not today,” Dick laughed. “Today is brother bonding time! Anywhere in Gotham you want to go. Or not in Gotham, we can borrow one of B’s jets if you want to take a day trip somewhere fun. He owes that much to us.”

“So… we’re not training?”

“Nope! Just having fun! So where to?”

“Oh… I don’t really care…”

“Don’t pull that on me. Come on, you work so hard. Let me help you have a little fun for once.”

“Dick, really…”

“Fine, we’re getting ice cream first. But you’re picking after that!” Dick pulled out of the driveway and passed his phone, Spotify already open, to Tim as he started the drive to an ice cream shop.

“What do you want me to put on?”

“Whatever you want.”

Tim tried to look through Dick’s playlists to find a happy one, only to discover that they were named so cryptically that even Bruce would be brought to tears trying to decipher them.

(Seriously, what does songs that scratch that one itch even mean?! One of them is just titled yes. And he can’t risk playing a sad playlist, that would make everything worse.)

He stared at the screen for a minute too long before Dick pulled to the side of the road. He turned to Tim, placing both hands on his shoulders.

“I’m going to look you in the eyes when I say this. Play whatever you want. I like pretty much every song I’ve ever heard. I want you to play what you want because it will make you happy.”

Tim just blinked for a moment. He had to pick something that Dick would like. But he barely talked with him about important things, let alone something as mundane as music.

Something from the 80's? Or is that too stereotypical for someone like Dick? Would he like the aggressively happy pop songs written for people his age? Tim couldn’t decide, but Dick was still staring at him.

“Tim. It’s not that deep. Just pick something you like. I can see you overthinking this.”

Tim hesitated for another moment before turning on Static Age by Green Day. It had high energy, and a good message. It was from one of Tim’s favorite albums, too. He held his breath slightly, watching Dick closely for his reaction as he started driving.

“Ah, a Green Day fan?” Dick asked with a smile

“Uh, yeah. I like their stuff.”

“American Idiot is a classic.”

“It really is. It’s a punk rock album, but it’s actually pretty poetic when you listen to the lyrics.”

“Yeah. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not as good at unpacking that stuff.”

“That’s fine, it’s good to enjoy as catchy music too.”

“Hold on, this is my favorite part.” He turned up the volume. “What’s the latest way that a man can die? Screaming ‘Hallelujah,’” Dick sang with the music blasting through the car’s speakers.

“Singing out ‘The dawn’s early light,’ the silence of the rotten, forgotten,” Tim quietly joined in.

“Oh-h, screaming at you. I can’t see a thing in the video, I can’t hear a sound on the radio.”

“In stereo. In the Static Age!” Tim sang, slowly letting himself relax with Dick. If he knew the lyrics, he must like the song. “Do you want to pick the next one?” he asked after the final chord was played.

“Hmm… more rock or should we switch it up?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I Can Do It With A Broken Heart has been in my head for days.”

“I don’t know if I’ve heard that one.”

“It’s Taylor Swift.”

“You like Taylor Swift and Green Day?”

“I just like music. If it has a beat, I vibe.”

Tim pulled up the song Dick requested. Dick sang with the lyrics and Tim listened.

“Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you want to die, he said he loved me all his life,” Dick sang.

“That’s… really depressing. But you wouldn’t know that with that beat.”

“I know, that’s why I love it.”

This continued all the way to the ice cream shop, with Tim mostly sticking to rock songs and Dick switching the genre every time. Somehow, Dick knew almost every song Tim played, and Tim was beginning to suspect that he had just heard every song in existence. And strangely, Tim found himself relaxing more. Like Dick really cared about him, and this whole day wasn’t some sort of test.

“Oh, and by the way,” Dick said after parking, “I’m paying. I don’t want to see your wallet all day.”

“I can pay for myself-”

“Nope! Not today you can’t!”

Tim sighed and they made their way inside, Tim already making a plan to slip in front of Dick to pay for his ice cream.

“What flavor do you want?” Dick asked, throwing an arm around Tim’s shoulders, making sure that he couldn’t slip off to pay. Dammit.

“Just vanilla.”

“Any toppings?”

“No, just vanilla.” It was the least expensive. If he wasn’t going to pay, he could at least be the smallest burden Dick would let him get away with being.

“Okay. But if you decide you want something more fun, I can buy you a new one. I’ve got B’s card,” Dick laughed, walking up to the counter and relaying Tim’s order, then giving his own. It involved three types of sprinkles and far too much sugar.

“So, what’s new with your life?” Dick asked, licking his ice cream.

“Not much, I guess.”

“Come on, how’s school?”

“Going good, I have all A’s.”

“Talk to me like I’m your brother, not your parents.” Tim was quiet for a moment.

“I really am not a fan of history.”

“That’s so real.”

The conversation kept going, and Tim was having an easier time slipping into a relaxed conversation with Dick calling him out every time he tried to give the responses people like his parents would want to hear. Soon the two were joking about anything they could think of and Tim was actually having more fun than he had in a while.

“Okay, so where are we going next?” Dick asked after they had both finished their ice cream and the conversation had started to lull. Shoot.

“I don’t know…. Wherever you want, I guess.”

“Tim, please.”

“I really don't know. I don’t really… I don’t exactly go out for fun often. And when I do, it, uh, well, it was usually my night activities,” he said, referencing how he would lightly stalk Batman and Robin as a child.

“Oh, Timmy… how do you feel about bowling?”

“Sure, that sounds fun.”

“Great! Let’s head out!”

oOo

The two had fun at the bowling alley. Dick would do a cartwheel every time he knocked down pins. Tim won, and found that he was comfortable enough to tease Dick about it.

Maybe he would never be Bruce’s son.

But he knew he could be Dick’s brother.

So when the two went back to the manor to watch a dumb movie, Tim excused himself to use the bathroom.

“Want me to walk you?” Dick asked.

“I… think I can find it on my own… I’ll text you if I need help.”

Dick looked like Tim had just handed him a puppy as he nodded.

Tim stepped out of the room and felt an odd tug leading to the left. He followed it, thinking of how much fun he’d had with Dick the whole time, and stopped at a certain door. He opened it and found the bathroom.

Smiling, he used it, then made his way back to his older brother, who was waiting with a wide smile.

“Timmy! You did it!”

“Yeah, I did… thank you…”

Dick stood up, wrapping him in a hug, and Tim just let himself relax into it.

Chapter Text

Jason had been through a lot, okay?

And he had changed. He wasn’t the kid he was. Not the little boy who had proudly proclaimed that Robin gave him magic.

He had killed people. He used guns. He broke Bruce’s 2 biggest rules.

And yet his family was welcoming him back with open arms.

He knew he didn’t deserve those arms.

He knew he wasn’t family anymore.

But still, he was offered his old room in the manor (he didn’t sleep in it), one of Bruce’s trust funds (he didn’t use it), and unlimited hugs from Dick (he pushed him off, no matter how good melting into them sounded sometimes).

Even the replacement had slowly made peace with him. The kid must have the survival instincts of a wet paper bag, he had tried to kill him!

Jason was not part of the family, but they insisted he still come around. Which is why it was so important that he couldn’t go anywhere in the manor alone.

Was he giving people the wrong idea when he insisted that they walk anywhere in the manor with him, claiming he wanted their company? Maybe. He refused to feel bad about it. It only kind of worked.

He figured it was about 50/50 whether anyone put it together that he knew he’d get lost. They were detectives. But also, Bruce had the emotional range of a stale ham sandwich, and the others weren’t much better.

He looked down at the man he’d just shot. Really, it was the guy’s own fault. He tried to sell to kids. But no chance B would accept that.

He walked a thin line between trying to not kill too many people (even if he wasn’t part of the family, he didn’t want them to totally reject him, he couldn’t take that) and trying to uphold his reputation as a crime lord.

Someone would find the body within the day. Probably wouldn’t even blink twice at it, Gotham being the city it was.

He caught his reflection in the glass of a shop window.

The red helmet covering green eyes, just starting to dim back to the blue-ish green they’d been since the pit. The wrong color, they were supposed to be bluer than that.

The red bat painted across his chest. He was a fraud for wearing the family’s symbol after all he’d done.

The red blood that had splattered onto his sleeve. He’d have to ditch the jacket, he couldn’t make Alfie clean his mess up. He just kept making messes for the others.

Jason checked his watch. Almost 4. Better head to the manor before Dick starts blowing up my phone, thinking I’m skipping dinner.

After a quick stop at a safehouse to ditch the helmet and bloody jacket, he hailed a taxi to the manor, tipping the driver heavily.

He arrived at the manor far too soon, automatically stepping into the routine he had built up in the months since being welcomed back.

Try the door handle, always unlocked. Pull out the house key they gave him, but he claimed to have lost after the first week. Lock the door. Knock and wait to be escorted in.

The halls would swallow him alive if he ventured in alone. Might even lead him to some twisted trap room because of all the stress he caused everyone.

The door opened, revealing a smiling Alfred. “Ah, Master Jason! I could have sworn I left the door unlocked this time.”

“Not your fault, Alfie. Need help in the kitchen?”

“No, I’m quite alright, dear boy. The others are in the parlor if you’d like to join them,” the older man said, ushering Jason in and shutting the door.

“Uh, yeah. Mind if I come to the kitchen to grab a drink first, though?” He had to stay around other people as long as he could.

“Of course.”

The two walked to the kitchen, Jason’s stomach twisting all the way there.

Now, technically he hadn’t gotten lost yet. He hadn’t even tried to wander into the halls since being welcomed back.

But there was no way he’d willingly walk into those halls, knowing how lost he’d be after seconds.

All too soon, the pair arrived in the kitchen, Jason grabbing a glass of water and surveying what Alfred was cooking for dinner.

In a stroke of insane luck, Dick walked into the kitchen after a minute.

“Little Wing!” he cried, launching himself on Jason in a hug.

“Hey-! Yeah, good to see you, too, Dickface,” Jason muttered, pushing his clingy brother off. He had no idea how the man acted like it was the first time seeing him after his resurrection every time they stepped into the same room. Surely the novelty should have worn off by now?

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Dick joked as Jason stepped a couple feet away. Seriously, personal space. “Come on, we’re playing Uno.”

“B actually let you?” The last game had ended with both Dick and Jason grounded, two separate shouting matches, and a new couch. Uno had been banned since then. Of course, that was before he had died. Maybe the replacement was just a calmer player.

“Against his better judgement,” Dick replied with a smirk.

“Cool. We playing with stacking?”

“Duh. And silent sevens. And cutting. Not that that one matters too much with only 3 of us.”

“Lead the way.”

oOo

“Screw you all, I’m leaving this family,” Jason sighed, starting to draw the 38 freaking cards that had been stacked.

Dick and Tim just laughed as he started to organize his small deck by color.

“What color was it, Timmy?” Dick asked, since Tim had been the last to play his wild draw 4 card.

“Blue,” Tim replied with a smirk, surveying his 3 remaining cards.

Dick played a blue 3.

Tim played a blue 9.

Dick cut Jason with another blue 9.

Tim played a blue 4, shouting “UNO!”

“How the heck do I not have any blue cards?!” Jason growled, playing a wild. Not the draw 4 wild, because of course he didn’t draw one of those. Why would he? “Red.” He had an absurd number of red cards, because apparently the universe loved irony.

Dick played a red 7, cueing everyone to be silent.

Tim, the little menace, played his last card. A yellow 7. Jason and Dick threw down their cards.

It was pretty clear Jason wasn’t winning the game anyway, with 52 cards in his hand.

“Managed to get through a game without breaking any furniture, though!” Dick said with a smile.

“That bar is so low.”

“But one we passed nonetheless.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

“So, movie?” Tim interjected. Jason noticed that he seemed to be looking at Dick more than him. It made sense, there was the whole Titan's Tower thing.

The three had only just started to debate what movie to watch when Bruce walked in, looking a little scared, as if he could find any amount of destruction awaiting him.

“Did we pass your Uno test, dad?” Dick asked as Bruce practically tiptoed into the room, as if breathing too hard would cause the ceiling to cave in.

“I suppose so,” Bruce responded, surveying the lack of damage to the room, furniture, and body parts of the three boys.

“Maybe he’ll unban Monopoly next!” Tim joked.

“Absolutely not.”

Jason allowed himself a small chuckle as Tim and Dick laughed.

It wasn’t long after that that Alfred called them for dinner, which he survived without needing to make any excuses to stay around the others.

oOo

Jason arrived at his safehouse still feeling like an intruder and a fraud among the people who welcomed him with open arms.

How long could he keep up this charade of being a part of the family?

As long as I can, he answered himself, triple checking the lock and letting himself relax for the first time that day.

He passed through his routine in a haze, his mind still on the Uno! game, overanalyzing everything he’d said. Did it seem obvious that he couldn’t let down his guard, even around the brothers? Neither of them had said anything about it.

But they were trained by Bruce, the master of poker faces. He scoffed at himself.

Don’t get attached to that kindness. It won’t last, he reminded himself as he drifted off.

Chapter Text

“So, Jason definitely isn’t comfortable with us, right?” Tim said to his family as soon as Jason was gone, saying out loud the idea that had been circling all their brains since he had started being friendly with them.

“He’s been locking the door in order to be let in, instead of coming in on his own,” Alfred added.

“He must think he’ll get lost…” Bruce said, looking dejected.

“And if he’s stuck in that mindset, he will get lost,” Dick added, placing a consoling hand on his father’s shoulder.

“Well, what are we doing about it?” Tim asked. “When I didn’t accept it, you helped me until I realized I could make it around. We’ve got to do the same for Jason.”

“I can think of a couple things we could do,” Dick said, offering a small smile.

oOo

Dickface
guys i’m bored
let’s do something
like a vacation!
we should go on a vacation!

Timbit
Sounds good, where to?

Jay
Seriously, Dick?
Some of us have work
Yk, “for justice” and all that

B
I’m sure it can wait a day or two.
We could all stand to relax a little more.

Dickface
b suggesting that *JUSTICE* and *VENGEANCE* can wait? unheard of!!

Timbit
Come on, Jason, if Bruce can take a day off, so can you.

Jay
I think you guys forget that ‘crime lord’ is my actual job
Well if you guys are out, someone has to protect the streets

Dickface
pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaassssssseeeeeeeee come with us little wing

B
We can take a day off, Jaybird.

Timbit
We’ll spam your phone until you agree
Or at least Dickie will

Dickface
pppppplllllllllllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
pls
pls

B
You could pick where we go.

Dickface
pls
pls
pls
pls

Jay
Fine.
Where are we even going?

Dickface
pls
yayayayayay!!
uh
oh!
i saw this idea
where you go out and do a little scavenger hunt with your family!
it looks like fun!
and we can localize it to gotham!

Jay
A scavenger hunt? Really?

Timbit
Yeah, it’ll be fun
If we do it in capes, we can even get to places no one else can

B
Unless you’d rather do something else?

Jay
No, a scavenger hunt’s good.

Dickface
come to the manor so we can get started!!
we’ll do teams of two, and switch off between rounds!!

An impromptu scavenger hunt with the others was not on his bingo card… but at least it wasn’t in the manor where he’d have to constantly be glued to someone.

He sighed and went to gear up.

oOo

“Little Wing!” Dick exclaimed as Jason got off his bike in the cave, launching himself at his little brother for a hug.

“Glad you decided to come, chum,” Bruce said with a fond smile. Even Timbit looked glowing at the fact that Jason was there.

“Ya didn’t exactly give me much of a choice, with Dickface blowing up my phone and all.”

“You ignored his messages just fine after you agreed to come. So some little part of you must like us after all,” Tim teased.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“So, younger brothers versus you old people first?” Tim asked.

“Sounds fair,” Bruce agreed as Dick slung an arm over his shoulders.

“I made three separate lists, each with ten items, so we can do all the pairings,” Dick explained. “First to find them all with their partner that round and get back here wins, and we switch partners to go again with the new lists. Take a picture of each item to prove that you got it.”

“Alright. Time to kick their butts,” Tim said, taking his first list and hopping on his bike, Jason following suit. Dick and Bruce got in the batmobile.

They sped out into the Gotham night to a small alleyway to examine the list.

“Criminal doing crime (please catch them), Living plant, Someone walking a dog, Pothole the same size as or bigger than the length of your forearm, Non-obscene, non-gang-related graffiti, Clearance sale sign, Out-of-towner, Insurance brochure with villain attack coverage, Playing on the swings, Big stuffed animal (whichever team brings back a bigger one gets bonus points),” Tim read aloud, Jason following over his shoulder.

“Ivy’s set up shop in the Narrows, bet we can find some things on the way there. And it’s a guarantee of finding a living plant,” Jason said. Tim nodded and they hopped back on their bikes to find Poison Ivy.

They didn’t go as fast as before, keeping their eyes peeled for any of the things on the list. The first one they found was a clearance sale sign, for a fairly new installment of a standard clothing chain. Looks like they had already given up after being robbed four times in the first month of being open.

By the time they arrived in Ivy’s garden, they had also found an out-of-towner (he was holding a camera and had a thick wallet in his pocket that they advised him to hide), the pothole, and a criminal doing crime. Tim had taken down the would-be robber fairly quickly, and Jason snapped a picture of him zip-tying his hands behind his back.

“Huh… you know, I have one of you that looks almost exactly like that…”

“You… have a picture of me?”

“From before you… you know…”

“I died. You can say it.”

“Right. That. Well, I have a lot of pictures of you from when you were Robin. More than I ever got of the first Robin,” Tim said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You were my hero…” The look on his face said he still was.

Jason paused at that. He knew people looked up to him as Robin, but to hear someone say that he was their hero?

“What about Batman?”

“Mr. Brooding himself? Sure, I believed in the work he was trying to do in the city, but would he really be any kid’s favorite?”

“I suppose not…”

They carried on, finding all the things after another thirty minutes of searching. The hardest one turned out to be someone walking their dog. Nobody wanted to be out past sundown, period, let alone bring their pup out. Eventually they did find a man on a walk with his German shepherd, and the only reason Jason let Tim keep the video of him petting it and telling him how good of a boy he was was the scavenger hunt.

Bruce and Dick were laughing when they got back.

“Looks like we won round one!” Dick said, holding up his hand to Bruce for a high five.

“Sure, but we got the bigger stuffed animal!” Jason proudly said, placing the rabbit they had found next to the (only slightly) smaller panda bear Dick and Bruce had tracked down.

“Looks like we’re tied, then,” Bruce said.

“C’mon, Jay, you’re with me next!” Dick said, dragging him back over to the bikes, list in hand.

“Okay… Payphone, Birds eating food, Batburger wrapper, Non-dented car, Pride flag, 24-hours sign, Licence plate from out-of-state, Circle window, Barbed wire, Gargoyle (whoever finds one in the best condition gets bonus points),” Jason read. “Wow, some of these suck.”

“You try thinking of ten awesome scavenger hunt item ideas! I had to look up ideas!”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

“Come on, we’re traveling on grappling hooks for this one!” Dick pulled out his grapple and shot off into the night

“I don’t think that was in the rules!” Jason said, following suit.

“It wasn’t! I just need to stretch my legs after being shut up in the car with B for so long!”

They swung through town, taking pictures with the items. Maybe Jason was getting sentimental after what Tim told him about looking up to him, but it almost felt like old times.

“You’re such a good brother, Little Wing,” Dick said after Jason had indulged him with a small dramatic photoshoot with the least-deteriorated gargoyle they could find - the last item on their list.

“...Are you sure I’m still your brother?”

Jason was thankful for the voice modulator. It made his words sound slightly less small and vulnerable.

“Jaybird, you’ll always be my Little Wing, my little brother. No matter what,” Dick said, walking over to give Jason a gentle hug, plenty of room to back out if he wanted it. He didn’t. He let himself stay. Let himself enjoy the feeling of being hugged. Of being loved.

“Alright, now we’ve got to get back to beat B and R. Race you to the bikes?”

“Oh, you’re so on!”

Jason won the race back to the bikes, and the two of them both beat B and Tim. They made lighthearted conversation in the minutes while they waited for the other two, teasing each other as all brothers do.

“And you two are supposed to be the smart ones,” Jason teased as Bruce and Tim pulled back in on their bikes. He glanced back at Dick, expecting some outraged cry about how he was smart too, but only got a shrug.

“Can’t argue with that. They are the smart ones.”

“Apparently also the slow ones,” Jason laughed.

“Oh, shut up, it’s harder than expected to find Batburger trash just lying around,” Tim said.

“Just go get some Batburger and take a picture of your wrapper.”

“What? That feels like cheating,” Bruce said.

“It’s not! And I know because I made the rules!” Dick proudly declared. Tim groaned. “Hey, it’s my turn with you now, so I can let you in on all the little loopholes in the rules.”

Dick passed out the final list, and Jason made his way over to Bruce, tensing up a bit.

The two climbed in, and Jason read the list while Bruce drove.

“Backpack, Bus, Cool pants, Someone crossing the street on the crosswalk, Bicycle, Something funded by Wayne Enterprises, Fountain, Furniture on the curb, Stained glass window, Ice cream cone…”

“Dick really was running out of ideas, wasn’t he…” Bruce said, a fond smile on his face.

“Yeah, I guess so… oh! A person using the crosswalk, right there!” Bruce stopped so Jason could run out and ask the woman who was just trying to follow the law if he could take a picture of her on the crosswalk. He wasn’t a jerk who would take a picture of someone without asking.

She agreed then asked, “Why were you in the Batmobile?”

“I’m with Batman,” Jason found himself easily replying. She looked confused, but carried on her way.

The two chatted lightly as they collected the pictures, but stayed away from the heavier subjects. Until the only item left was ice cream. Jason recognized the shop Bruce was driving them to.

After a long patrol, Jason and Bruce sat on a rooftop eating ice cream. Jason had slipped and called Bruce dad on patrol. But realized afterward that he did mean it. That B was the best father he’d ever had.

They made their way in. Bruce placed the same order he had last time. Jason got the same flavor, different toppings. They went to the same rooftop they had last time. Jason pulled off his helmet, only leaving the domino.

“Jaybird…”

“Hey, B…”

“You know you’ll always be my son, right?” Jason blinked. He wasn’t expecting that. “I know I’ve failed you in the past, and I know I can’t demand your forgiveness, but I can say that I love you, and I’m sorry. You are my son, and nothing will ever change that.”

“I…”

“It’s okay, chum. You don’t have to say anything. Just know that you will always be part of this family.”

Jason didn’t say anything, just hugged Bruce. Hugged the man who had been his father for the best years of his first life, and was still willing to be his father for his second chance at it.

oOo

When all the points were tallied up, Tim won the scavenger hunt. Jason was thankful that they hadn’t just let him win for the sake of bringing him back to the family.

They made their way up to watch a movie. Some dumb Disney movie Dick had insisted on. Except this one was actually interesting for once. Sure, it was about as predictable as any Disney movie, but the concept was good.

And only when the credits started to roll did Jason notice that the rest of the family had slipped out at one point or another. And he was there. Alone in the manor.

Except he remembered what the others had told him over the scavenger hunt. Various affirmations about how they still considered him family.

So he got up.

And opened the door.

And felt that familiar tug in his gut, leading him to the kitchen, where everyone was waiting for him with teary eyes.

“Hey, guys. Y’all missed the end of the movie…” he said, already getting wrapped in the middle of a family hug.

Jason may have changed over the years through his trauma. But nothing changes family.