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Chapter Text

A new rogue was in town. They knew nothing about her besides that she was a magic wielder, called herself “Time” and had been evading the bats and GCPD for two weeks.

They had cornered her in a dead end alleyway. Her brown and green cloak helped her blend into the shadows as the bats backed her against the wall. With Nightwing and Red Robin covering the roof tops, Batman and Red Hood on the ground and Robin on a nearby fire escape, there was nowhere she could go.

She began to glance around at the advancing heroes, debating her next move. Tilting her head towards the ground, the corners of her mouth quivered in a grin. Quickly, reaching into one of the inner pockets of her cloak, Batman dived forward.

He wasn’t fast enough.

She was able to pull out a small blue vial, smashing it on the ground before he could close the distance between them.

In an instant the space was filled with a light blue fog, knocking them all backwards. Setting their nerves alight with pins and needles as they were stunned from the blow. As the fog dissipated and they gained their senses back, she was gone.

“Is everyone alright?” Nightwing asked as he jumped to his feet, his right knee feeling better than it has in a long time. That was when he caught sight of Red Robin, or, maybe, he should say caught sight of Tim Drake.

Sitting in front of him, on the opposite rooftop, was a young Tim Drake. Clad in a blue satin PJ set. Staring at him wide eyed across the alley.

“Umm, when did you change?” Tim asked. His voice was much higher pitched than normal as he pointed to his older brother's chest.

Looking down at himself, Dick registered he was in his old Discowing uniform. Glancing back at Tim, now standing in his bare feet, he looked like the little kid that had knocked on his door all those years ago. The kid that had demanded that he go back to being Robin.

Tim had only been 13.

Walking to the ledge, Dick looked down at Damian on the fire escape. Looking back up at him, still sitting on his bottom, was a bright eyed toddler dressed in green League garb.

“Jason?” Bruce asked from the street below.

Looking further down, Dick saw Bruce, clad in an older version of the batsuit. Leaning against the brick wall of the alley, with his legs curled up under him, sat Jason. He too was wearing League garb, but his were white. A stark contrast to the dark of the night and the dirty alleyway they were inhabiting.

Dick couldn’t see Jason’s face because of the angle. He could hear the tremor in his fathers voice though.

Something was wrong with Jason.

Chapter Text

Jason, leaning back against the brick wall, had vacant eyes. If it wasn’t for the fact that the boy had blinked when he had said his son’s name, Bruce would still believe he was dead.

But he had blinked.

Inspecting Jason as he got closer, he could see the steady rise and fall of his small chest beneath his tunic.

His eyes looked out of focus, almost like he was drugged into a delirious state. Except the League didn’t use drugs. They used poisons, not drugs. And none that left a child this still.

They never did know what had happened to Jason – he had refused to talk about it.

A quiet “oh fuck” was heard from the rooftops as Dick began to corral his now civilian younger siblings and get the back to the ground safely.

Bruce crouched next to Jason, he had a busted lip, bruised and bloody knuckles as well as superficial wounds on various parts of his exposed skin.

Batman removed his gloves.

Brushing Jason’s curls out of his eyes with one hand, he cupped Jason’s check with the other. Gently turning his son's head to look at him.

There was no change.

No recognition.

Taking out his penlight, Batman began looking Jason over.

That was when he saw the nasty clump of scar tissue. It was right at his hairline, maybe the size of a lemon. Bruce’s mind flickered back to Ethiopia.

Joker had caved Jason’s skull in. In the same location that the scar tissue was.

The Lazarus Pit had healed the wound, smoothing over the flesh, replacing the scar tissue. But it hadn’t been able to restore pigment to the new hair follicles it had created. It’s why Jason, as an adult, had a white streak in his hair.

Jason was post resurrection, pre-Lazarus.

Talia had sworn up and down that she had not been the one to bring Jason back from the dead.

He hadn’t believed her.

Turning at the light thud behind him, he saw his three other sons now safely on the ground.

Dick was wearing his old Nightwing uniform, the one he had taken direct inspiration from his fathers Flying Grayson uniform. He had worn that suit from the age of nineteen to twenty three.

Damian was a toddler.

Tim was a civilian. Meaning Tim was under the age of fourteen, the age he became Robin.

Turning back to Jason as the others watched on, Bruce carefully cradled his second son into his arms. His small frame hung limp, not resisting being moved.

Much like it had when he had dug Jason out of the fiery remains of the warehouse all those years ago.

Chapter Text

The harsh lights of the medical bay illuminated the room as Alfred gave Jason a once over. Dick had taken Tim and Damian upstairs as Bruce had used his emergency phone to call Talia.

She refused to tell him anything.

As Alfred cleaned Jason’s wounds it became clear that he wasn’t as nearly as catatonic as they had originally thought. Instead, he was watching Alfred intently. The methodical actions of cleaning and dressing the wounds seeming to be captivating to him.

Alfred had relayed this to Bruce over the walkie talkie, getting nowhere with Talia he made his way over to the med bay.

Jason was sitting on the table in his underwear, watching with utter fascination as Alfred finished bandaging a wound on his thigh.

Jason was of a different height and weight then when he had died. He was taller, but had lost weight. It was reasonable to suspect that he was sixteen years old. Meaning the spell had taken ten years of their lives off their physical state, and yet their minds all seemed to have stayed the same. All except for Jason.

Jason had a head tick. Random spouts of clenching and unclenching his muscles. Would sometimes blink rapidly and then hardly as he extended his neck. Then he would go back to normal, just observing. Like he was aggressively trying to clear blurry vision.

Jason’s mental state was being affected by his physical. He had been debating on whether or not to give Jason a full cat scan, but if he wasn’t fully catatonic it would be difficult to keep him still for the length of the images. He didn’t want to have to sedate him. He likely wouldn’t react well to the altered state while not fully aware of his surroundings.

His mind was made up when he saw Jason sitting on the table. The son he lost. The son who he had failed.

Now he had to look into his little boy's face and not crumble to pieces as he saw exactly what the implications of his failings were, what they led to.

And then Jason looked up at him.

And he whimpered.

Alfred restraining him as he tried to jump off the table. All the while keeping his eyes locked on Bruce. His whimpering getting more erratic as he was restricted to the cot.

Bruce, his heart all but shattering in his chest, rushed forward. Holding his hands out to grab his son’s flailing arms as they reached for him. The contact seemingly calming him, no longer whimpering.

Without a word spoken, Bruce and Alfred traded places. Jason immediately forgetting about Alfred’s existence as he clutched on Bruce's clothes. As Jason buried his face in his fathers shoulder, Bruce instinctively wrapped his arms around his son as he addressed Alfred. “What did you find?”

“Nothing of significance, Sir” Alfred replied as he cleaned up the medical supplies. “Minor cuts and bruises, a few lacerations on his back and arm. Other than that, he is perfectly healthy. It is his mind that I am worried about, Master Bruce.”

Jason had stopped whimpering the second that Bruce had started holding him. Looking down, Bruce noticed that he had his eyes closed. Turning to look at the clock he realized that it was nearing 6 AM. Dick had already put Tim and Damian to bed, likely retiring for the night himself too.

Jason was likely exhausted. He remembered the rigorous training that would leave him sore for days from his time training with the League.

Jason’s injuries coincided with form corrections. Mostly bruising, light scrapes that seemed to be from a sharp blade and the lacerations on his back.

Disobedience always demanded a harsher correction.

With Jason not being fully aware of his surroundings, not really knowing what was happening, there was no doubt he would ‘disobey’ without even knowing it.

They had no idea what kind of training the body Jason had been thrust back into had endured recently.

“I think it would be best if we all retire for the night” Bruce suggested as Jason yawned. Instead of making Jason walk, Bruce chose to pick him up. He told himself that it was so he wouldn’t have to wake the boy up, but he was lying to himself.

Tim hadn’t needed a parental figure and Damian, well. Damian had had to grow up so quickly it had never acted his age. Forced to live the life of someone who is far older and more self sufficient than someone his age should ever be.

In all actuality, Bruce hadn’t really felt like a father since Jason had been living in the Manor. Between all of his son’s, the only one’s that he actually felt like he raised were Dick and Jason. Of course Tim and Damian were also his children, but it was different. He had never needed to hold them in the middle of the night when Nightmares had caused them to wake up screaming. Had never cuddled together on the couch just because.

They were all his children, but his missed being the kind of parent to coddle and hold them. If he had tried with Tim, he would probably begin running every test available in the cave. Looking for toxins or exposures that would cause him to act in such a way.

Damian would most likely just call him insolent or try to stab him.

Neither of them needed him to be that kind of parent. Jason and Dick did, and he had missed that.

Chapter Text

Jason fell asleep before they had reached the grandfather clock. The rhythmic swaying of his steps lulling Jason to sleep in Bruce’s arms.

Jason had died at fifteen, he had been small for his age from his time living on the streets. He had only been four foot six and eighty six pounds. Now — in his current state — he was four foot eleven and ninety pounds. The muscle mass that he had lost would have motivated the League to push him harder, trying to make him get back into the state he had been when he had been Robin.

Now though, he was asleep in his fathers arms as they made their way through Wayne Manor.

Bruce didn’t want to risk a bad reaction if Jason awoke in his old bedroom, not knowing if it would elicit a good or bad response. Instead, he elected to put Jason down in a spare bedroom for the night. Quietly tucking him in before leaving the door cracked behind him.

0o0o0

There was a gentle succession of three knocks on his door shortly after he had gone to bed himself. It was Dick’s knock. “Come in” he spoke to the closed door, not bothering to get up.

As he sat up, the sheet pillowing into his lap, Dick entered his bedroom.

Dick was twenty again. His usually ‘messy look’ was now an unruly mullet that he had hated since the first time he had seen it. He was wearing one of his Bludhaven PD shirts that now hung loosely on his leaner frame.

He hadn’t seen Dick much when he had been twenty, there had been too much fighting. Too many unspoken feelings between them that came exploding out in screaming matches (about something completely different) when they had finally been in the same room together.

It had taken time – and Tim as a mediator – for them to act civil with one another again. Which made it just the odder to see Dick look like this again.

“Hey” Dick said as he entered, leaving the door open behind him as he entered. “How’s Jason?” he asked as he sat on the edge of Bruce’s king bed.

Pulling himself up to lean against the head board Bruce explained “We suspect that the spell reverted our bodies by ten years. That would make Jason sixteen, before Talia put him in the Lazarus.”

“Soooo… what does that mean exactly” Dick questioned as he positioned himself crisscross on the foot of the bed.

“It means that all of the wounds that he had sustained from Joker have healed naturally. X-rays show that many of his bones healed fairly well, a few would need to be rebroken and set if he were to stay in this state.” Seeing how intently Dick was listening he went into further detail, “his ankle healed wrong to the point of limiting his mobility in the joint. His hands are roped in scar tissue to the point that it seems to hurt him to use them. And his previously broken skull is likely the reason he is acting how he is.”

“Does he,” Dick started, clearly hesitant. “Does he even recognize us?”

“Yes,” Bruce said cautiously. “I can’t say how much he remembers, but when I entered the medbay he recognized me.”

Dick scrunched his eyebrows together before asking, “what did he do?”

“He tried to climb off the table to hug me.”

Dick just stared at him, trying to deduce if Bruce was telling a joke for the first time in his life or not. “He tried…. to hug you?”

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed, trying to find a way to explain to his eldest. “Jason and I had a… very different… relationship when he still lived in the Manor.”

Dick still looked like he wasn’t believing a word that was coming out of his mouth. Continuing, Bruce explained “Jason had grown up having to take care of himself and his mother. When she died he kept himself alive on the streets for four years. He has always been slow to trust, it’s how he stayed alive.”

“When Jason finally did trust us,” Bruce continued. “He became a very clingy child, what you used to call a ‘Velcro child’.”

“You’re fucking with me right?” Dick asked, still not believing a word Bruce was saying.

“No.”

They stared at each other in silence. "Jesus Christ B, what are we gonna do?” “What we always do,” Bruce reassured. “We investigate. Get ahead of them. Jason, Tim and Damian are not in physical shape to go out, which leaves you and I. Damian and Tim can work on the investigation side an—-” “Damian’s five Bruce,” Dick said, cutting him off. “Like, an actual fucking toddler.” “He is still capable of detective work, our bodies changed, not our minds.” the silence that fell between them said the words neither of them wanted too, ‘unlike Jason.’

Chapter Text

The next day at breakfast, the weight of the situation finally hit them. Damian needed help cutting his food into smaller pieces, Alfred forbade Tim from drinking coffee until he was of a ‘proper age’ again and Dick’s attitude had been slowly creeping in.

Dick had been an angry individual, always looking for a fight. He had grown out of it, but it had taken time.

Being physically twenty again brought the quick fuse back.

Everyone could tell he was trying not to yell, not to get angry. That didn’t change the fact that he looked like he was eating a lemon and trying not to make a face.

Tim was quiet, simply keeping his head down and eating his food with orange juice rather than coffee.

And then there was Jason.

He was refusing to eat, or at least that's what it looked like from the outside. With Bruce at the head of the table Tim was on his left and Jason on his right. Jason was just watching them eat, moving his head to watch each of his family members.

Glancing at Jason’s hands, Bruce once again wondered if the thick roping of scar tissue hurt. He didn’t seem to do much with his hands last night or this morning, just let them rest in his lap. His fingers slightly curled as if the scars were pulling them closed.

Carefully standing, Bruce brought his chair over to sit right beside Jason.

Testing his theory, Bruce speared some scrambled eggs onto Jason’s fork before bringing it to his son’s mouth.

Jason’s entire focus was on Dick at the moment. Dick was eating cereal with his coffee, the bright colors of the food dye likely being the cause of catching Jason’s attention in the sterile whites and woods of the kitchen.

Lowering the fork, Bruce used his other hand to gently grab Jason’s chin. Removing his focus from Dick. When the two made eye contact Bruce once again raised the fork to Jason’s mouth. His gaze flickered to the food once before returning back to Bruce.

He opened his mouth.

As he chewed his gaze remained on Bruce. His eyes blank, automatic motions of chewing and swallowing before accepting another bite.

Chapter Text

That night, Dick and Bruce had suited up to patrol the city. It had been a long time since it had just been Bruce and his oldest out at night.

That had been the plan at least.

Before they had even reached the city the Batmobile’s comm link to the cave had pinged. Bruce couldn’t say he was surprised, Jason had been clinging to his side since they had been hit with the spell. He just had hoped it wouldn’t be instantaneous.

“Father,” Damian’s high pitched voice politely interrupted, the sound of Jason wails echoing in the background.

Bruce spun the car, ending their patrol before it even started.

“Jason hasn’t been reacting well to your departure. Alfred and Timothy are trying to restrain him.”

0o0o0

Tim was holding his legs down. Alfred, sitting behind Jason on the floor, restraining the boy's arms against his chest in a makeshift straight jacket.

He was crying.

Flailing in their hold.

As the original dynamic duo jumped out of the car Batman realized Jason’s screams weren’t nonsensical. Over and over again Jason was wailing a mixture of “Dad,” “no” and “please come back.”

He was thrashing and screaming for Bruce.

Bruce ran.

His son's broken, screaming voice echoing throughout the cave.

As he neared the trio – Damian likely keeping his distance as an order from Alfred – Bruce pulled off the cowl. “Let him up” he stated, his voice neutral. No rough bravado or gravel to his voice, not knowing how Jason would react to hearing orders barked out and not wanting to take the risk.

Bruce knelt as they released him, Jason instantly flinging himself into his fathers arms. A thunk coming from the impact of his head against the protection pads on Bruce’s chest.

He was trembling. Pushing more and more into Bruce. Trying to make the space between them as miniscule as possible. His wails instantly dying off into mumbling nonsense as he pressed his face into the crock of Bruce’s neck.

Bruce didn’t hesitate. Instantly scoping his second oldest son into his arms as he began to mindlessly wander around the cave. Swaying and shushing to try and calm him.

Chapter Text

With Jason calmed, everyone changed into PJ’s and headed for the family room. Dick had suggested a movie night privately to Bruce. With everyone being so young it was more than likely they would experience nightmares if they went to bed immediately after witnessing Jason’s breakdown.

Bruce sat on the love seat, sitting Jason beside him as Dick called Tim and Damian over to the other couch to cuddle with him.

Tim picked out the movie. It was the cartoon Lilo and Stitch.

It had been Bruce’s idea. He could see Tim looked lost. He wasn’t talking as much since the spell had happened. Bruce couldn’t leave Jason’s side and Damian was a toddler, taking up most of Dick’s free time. Leaving Tim lost in the confusion that had become their lives.

The shift hadn’t been very noticeable with the chaos. Clipped responses. Avoiding eye contact. Stepping out of the way when someone walked up to him, immediately assuming they were going past him, not to him.

Tomorrow he was going to call the Justice League. It wouldn’t be good to leave Gotham unsupervised for a long period of time and they were only running into dead-ends on finding the witch.

For now, they sat together, as a family. Watching a makeshift family try to piece itself together.

0o0o0

The movie was nearing the halfway mark. Damian and Jason had been yawning for the majority of the movie. Damian was quickly falling asleep. His head nodded forward every few seconds as he tried to fight for his consciousness.

Then Jason stood. Walking towards the door.

It caught everyone's attention – besides Damian.

“Little wing, where you goin?” Dick questioned.

Jason was exhausted but sure footed. Bruce didn’t think he would willingly leave Bruce given his reaction at being separated earlier. So he stayed seated on the couch, watching his son in his tired state.

“He hasn’t been responding to anything but ‘Jason’ since the spell,” Bruce explained instead.

Dick ignored him, looking back and forth between Bruce and Jason, as if asking why Bruce wasn’t getting up.

Near the door, they kept a basket of blankets. Kneeling down, Jason grabbed an olive green fluffy blanket. Dragging it out of the basket before walking back to Bruce.

When he reached the couch he didn’t sit in his seat again. Instead, he crawled onto Bruce’s lap. Laying chest to chest with his father as he laid his head on his father’s shoulder, pulling the blanket atop of them both. Finally closing his eyes, accepting sleep – unlike Damian.

Bruce adjusted the blanket, making sure Jason was fully covered as he kissed the scar on Jason's forehead. Where his white streak should have been.

“Guess he was a velcro kid” Dick mumbled and he pulled his other two kid brothers into his sides.

Together, they all settled in to resume watching the Disney movie about found family.

Chapter Text

While Batman was on a video call with the Justice League – debriefing them on the heroes' situation and the patrol needed in Gotham – Jason was watching Tim and Dick spar. Damian upstairs being watched by Alfred as he took his 2 pm nap.

It was day three. They were starting to fall into a new rhythm of their altered lives. Re-learning how to care for their younger bodies.

Jason was sitting criss-cross on a nearby mat as Dick was reteaching Tim some basic defense. They knew it wouldn’t matter in the long run. They would be able to find the magic user, undo the spell. He didn’t need to teach this version of his body the muscle memory. It was more so just to pass the time. Give them something to do rather than to just sit idly by and do nothing.

Even though Jason was not directly beside Bruce he was still acting normal, his new normal that is. Every so often he would look over his shoulder towards the batcomputer, making sure Bruce was still there.

Batman was finishing up his debriefing of the League, going over his plan for the patrol rotations to make sure they worked with everyone's schedule when Dick decided Tim was getting the skills enough to move from the bamboo bo staff to his regular metal.

Jason’s attention snapped over his shoulder again, making sure Bruce was still there after a break in his talking that lasted no more than five seconds.

Tim missed his footing. The stumble resulted in him dragging the metal bo staff on the stone cave floor. It sounded like nails on a chalk board, but he stayed on his feet.

“That's enough for today,” Dick decided, noticing Tim’s exhaustion creeping in. Batman was ending his video call with the League as Dick was throwing a towel at Tim who had flopped down on the mat.

No one had noticed that Jason had stilled. Dick and Tim’s playful chatter was loud enough to cover the sound of his panting as he sat as frozen as a statue.

By the time Bruce came over — cowl now pulled back — Dick was pinning Tim to the mats, giving the younger a noogie.

Bruce immediately noticed Jason hiding his face in his drawn up knees, curling himself into a ball.

Crouching down, Bruce hesitantly laid a hand on Jason’s back as he whispered the boy's name.

The flinch back in response to the touch was violent. He was terrified.

The jerking was enough to draw the others' attention.

Instead of trying to force Jason into sitting up straight, Bruce sat behind him. Pulling Jason’s back to the chest of the Batsuit, leaning forward and whispering calming words in his ear as he rubbed Jason’s arms. Settling in behind him, a steady weight. The rumble of his voice deep in his chest, enough to be felt even though the kevlar, grounding Jason further.

From what he could see of Jason’s face he was pale. His slightly trembling form rocking himself in a self soothing motion. His knuckles white from clenching the sleeves of his t shirt and his breath coming in shallow, rapid puffs.

0o0o0

Watching the security footage later, they were able to deduce that Tim’s stumble had caused Jason’s trauma response. What they couldn’t figure out was why.

Adult Jason had never told them about how the Joker had dragged the crowbar against the cement floor of the warehouse in Ethiopia. How even a decade later, that scratching, screeching sound sent a shiver up his spine and his heart rate rocketing out of his chest as his anxiety bubbled over.

Chapter Text

As they entered the 48 hour mark of the spell Bruce prepared a bath for Jason.

He knew it would be weird, he had gotten all of his children at an older age, they had all been able to bathe themselves. If Jason retained any of these memories he knew that he would likely avoid the family for a long time until the embarrassment wore off. If it ever did.

Jason was sitting on the toilet, watching Bruce as he went through the motions of getting everything set up.

When the time came he helped Jason to his feet before he began methodically removing Jason’s clothing, helping him into the bath.

Sitting down, Jason looked down at the bubbles surrounding him. As Bruce picked up a wash cloth – beginning to wash him – Jason picked his arms out of the water. Holding them out he rotated them, inspecting the bubbles that clung to his skin.

Bringing his arms towards his face, Bruce watched as Jason blew the bubbles off of himself. Following his path with his eyes as they floated back into the soapy water. As they rejoined their brethren Jason glanced up at Bruce, as if asking if the action was okay rather than making sure the man was still there.

Bruce couldn’t help but smile down at his son. Reaching into the water Bruce gathers some bubbles onto his index finger before placing them on Jason’s nose. The younger immediately shook his head and raised his hand out of the water to his face to brush them off. His hand, being covered in suds themself, just added to the tear free soap on his face.

“I got it, lad,” Bruce said. Rinsing off the wash cloth before wiping Jason’s face clean of the soap, unable to keep the smile off his face in the process.

Grabbing Jason’s chin, Bruce tilted his head back. Pouring water through Jason’s curls before adding shampoo to his hand. Gently working it in through the wet curls, massaging it into his scalp as Jason kept his head tilted back. Closing his eyes and humming as Bruce scratched his scalp, working the shampoo in circles through his hair before rinsing it out.

As he began to work the conditioner into Jason’s hair he noticed that Jason was leaning more and more into his hand. His side made contact with the side of the tub as he leaned into the contact with his eyes closed.

He had stopped humming as he leaned harder. It was 7 pm, Jason’s panic attack earlier was likely playing a role. Making him more tired than usual at this time. The warmth and contact lulling him to sleep.

Deciding to call it good enough, Bruce rinsed out the conditioner. He now fully held Jason’s head, keeping him upright. His breathing beginning to even out as his body relaxed into the warmth, Bruce began draining the tub.

Turning the water back on, testing it on his wrist until it was an adequate temperature. Bruce rinsed Jason off, making the boy stir as his slumber was interrupted.

“Jason,” Bruce said, gently shaking him. “You need to wake up for a little bit, then you can go right back to bed.”

Jason, blinking his eyes at the light, looked up at him. Bruce smiled down at him, grabbing Jason’s hands as he stood, helping Jason to his feet.

As he stepped out of the tub, Bruce wrapped him in a towel. Gently drying him off as he stood still, watching Bruce the whole time.

When he was finished, he knelt in front of Jason. Holding out the boy's underwear so he could easily slide it up Jason's legs. Jason had been more aware today. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he put one of his hands on Bruce's shoulder, steadying himself as he lifted his leg to step into the garment.

They repeated the process with his pj pants, a teal silkie material. Before Bruce moved on to putting leave in conditioner in his hair. Scrunching the product into his hair to help his curls form their bouncing shape, before repeating the process with a minimal amount of mousse.

Scrunching the towel over the curls to take off some of the excess product and water, Bruce then put Jason’s matching pj top over his head. Helping Jason pull his arms through the arm holes in the process.

Picking Jason up, having him sit on the counter. Bruce then brushed Jason’s teeth with swallowable tooth paste before putting him to bed. Making sure he was fully asleep before leaving the room.

Chapter Text

Today has been going well. Everyone seemed to accept that they were stuck in this state until the JL were able to capture the magic wielder.

Damian begrudgingly accepted the help with most of his tasks, begrudgedly.

Jason had seemed more with it than he had before. Still not talking, zoning in and out.

He seemed to be wandering the Manor, as if looking for someone. Sometimes just glancing in rooms, other times sitting down in a chair and rarely entering the room to stare at an object or out one of the windows.

That was how it went. Bruce following Jason through the Manor until then ended up in the game room in mid afternoon.

Dick, Tim and Damian were sitting on the floor in a circle, playing a card game. Moving closer Bruce recognized the red cards as Uno.

Jason sat down on the floor, slightly behind Dick and Tim. Watching intently as they moved through the rhythm of the game, each playing their cards. Bruce stayed in the entrance of the room, leaning on the door frame as he observed,

Looking to his left, Dick asked “do you wanna play little wing?”

Jason didn’t react, didn’t even look at him. Dick having forgotten that he has only sometimes been responding to being called ‘Jason.’ None of his nicknames were able to elicit a response out of him.

“Jason,” Dick asked. Jason’s head snapped to attention at the mention of his name, looking his older brother in the eyes as he asked “do you wanna play?”

Jason cocked his head to the side, as if confused by the question. Figuring ‘no harm no foul’ Dick drew 5 cards from the deck and handed them to Jason. Jason looked down at the cards before slowly reaching out for them.

Keeping the cards face down, he looked back up at Dick as if asking what to do next.

Dick scooted closer to him, setting his own cards face down in the process. Taking Jason’s cards from him, Dick fanned out the cards before handing them back, face up.

Jason tried to grab the cards, but he couldn’t hold them for long. His hand quickly spasming from the abnormal position and dropping the cards.

Jason simply looked down at the cards that were now scattered across his lap and the floor. His two younger brothers waiting patiently.

“Here, come here kiddo” Dick said as he propped his legs out in front of him. Pulling Jason to sit between his legs before he leaned forward. Resting his chin on the top of Jason’s head he showed Jason his cards.

Looking over his hand at the pile, Dick pulls his attention back to his hand. Removing the cards that weren’t playable from sight, Dick asked “Which one do you wanna play?”

It took a few seconds, the words slowly registering to Jason as he looked at the colorful cards before him. With Dick acting as a back rest, Jason fully relaxed in the embrace. Slowly lifting his arm he tapped one of the cards, signaling for Dick to play it.

Looking over his shoulder, Dick said “go take a break B, I got the kids for a few hours.”

Nodding his thanks, Bruce left the children to their card game before heading to take a shower.

Chapter Text

There didn’t seem to have been a trigger. Dick was sitting on the couch with Tim, adding his two cents about the investigation into the magic user Tim had been conducting while Damian was sitting on the floor coloring.

Now a week into the spell, everyone had stopped pretending to not have urges. Sure their minds had stayed the same but their bodies had changed. Tim was now once again prepubescent, Damian was a toddler who could barely handle silverware and Dick had to take breaks from everyone. He couldn’t make the anger leave but that didn’t mean he had to take it out on them either.

Instead, when the anger flared, Dick would lead the kids (whether it was just Damian or both Tim and Damian) to Bruce. Without saying a word, Bruce would nod and Dick would leave to go calm down.

Bruce felt bad for shoving all of his and Tim’s W.E. work onto Lucius to figure out what to do but it wasn’t like he could find time in the day to sit down for meetings.

Not to mention he liked having everyone under the same roof.

They were now hitting one week. He knew the Justice League would move slower at the detective work than his family would have been able to but it wasn’t like they had much of a choice.

Bruce sat beside Jason on the couch. His fog has been worse today, resulting in him not wanting to lose physical contact with Bruce. Accommodating him, they would hold hands as they moved through the Manor or Bruce would just pick him up. He didn’t even break a hundred pounds, and for the feeling of being able to hold his son again? He didn’t care how sore his arm would get.

The conversation between Tim and Dick was easy to follow and add to. Tim having given him a laptop and access to the document as he reviewed it with Dick. Jason sat, curled into his side, his eyes out of focus and they worked out possible angles for the magician. Damian didn’t seem to be paying attention to them, simply trying his damndest to keep his coloring inside the lines. His tongue slightly sticking out in concentration.

Then he started wailing.

The loud sobs jerking their attention from the document towards the child on the floor.

Dick was instantly on the floor beside the crying toddler. Trying to shush him, pulling him into his lap to try and comfort him.

Damian let out an ear piercing scream that got Jason’s attention as he thrashed his way out of Dicks grip. Kicking Dick’s leg as hard as he could in his tantrum as he continued screaming. Pounding his soft fists against the plush carpet of the family room as his tantrum continued into full swing.

Then Jason stood, untangling himself from Bruce’s grasp in the process.

Bruce and Tim noticed, exchanging a confused glance into the process. But Dick’s back was to them, he didn’t know Jason had moved. The noise being covered up by the wailing toddler before him.

Jason moved slowly, methodically. As if approaching a wild animal, before sitting down beside Dick.

Without saying a word, Jason reached out to the toddler rolling as he screamed, crying on the floor. He grabbed Damian’s shoulder, not rough but strong enough that everyone in the room knew it hurt his hand. The grip seemed to ground Damian though, instantly snapping his attention to his elder brother.

A moment of clarity washed over Bruce at the interaction.

When they had been hit by the spell, both Damian and Jason had been in League garb. Damian would have been too young to remember Jason, or the memories he did have didn’t coincide with the knowledge of who Jason was now. His mind is unable to like the two.

But Jason remembered. Not just Damian, but the weight of the League halls, the rituals, the ways they taught comfort and control in the same breath. His hands had trembled as he reached for Damian, but the muscle memory was stronger than thought.

Jason pulled Damian into his lap, not allowing the younger to struggle in his grasp. Quickly curling himself into a ball around the tantruming toddler before he began rocking them back and forth.

Dick turned, looking back at Bruce in confusion. Bruce didn’t give him any explanation, not wanting to risk destroying whatever was happening between the two. Instead, he waved Dick to join him on the couch, leaving Jason and Damian on the ground.

0o0o0

It took a few minutes, but as Jason’s ministrations worked their magic, Damian calmed. As the crying regressed it allowed Jason’s humming to emerge.

Bruce recognized the tune. He couldn’t remember the words but he knew its origin. It was an old League of Assassins lullaby. The familiarity of the tune lulled Damian out of his tantrum as he was rocked back and forth, encompassed in a protective pressure.

From picking Damian up to the time he fell asleep in Jason’s arms, Jason seemed to be lost again. Simply staring at a fixed point on the wall across the room as he hummed the tune.

Almost kicking himself, Bruce looks at the time on the laptop. 3:27 pm. They had missed Damian’s nap. But as Jason kept rocking him, his chin propped on Damian's head. His eyes vacant as he hummed that League lullaby, Bruce couldn’t shake the question: was this Jason trying to comfort him… or conditioning?

Chapter Text

That night, after Bruce had put Damian and Jason to bed – Tim and Dick staying up to play video games – Bruce descended into the Batcave. Tonight was the Flash and Green Lanterns patrol night so he would be running coms for them.

Barry groaned as yet another citizen threw a brick at him yelling that there was a ‘no meta’s in Gotham’ rule. “Atleast Captain Cold apologizes when he freezes me” he muttered to himself as he rubbed the sore spot on his arm. Overhead Hal was lazily watching the interaction from the sky, laughing as the comms picked up his mutterings.

Every hero had their rogue gallery. Barry was too used to his rogues, with their silly antics and the city always standing behind him. Ready to steady him if he fell. Hal was pretentious and thought he was invincible.

Point was, neither of them really knew what depths of hell Gotham could descend into on any given night.

0o0o0

It had been a fairly quiet night on the crime front. The citizens however had had enough of the rotating heroes coming into their city. They knew it was just a matter of time before the rogues made plans, knowing the bat wasn’t there to stop them.

They were antsy. Knew there was a storm brewing. And the longer the bat and birds stayed away the closer the storm came to hitting.

Flash had already had multiple encounters of angry citizens screaming at him to ‘go home’ and leave the city alone.

Hal just laughed at him from the skies.

As the pair began to engage with a heist in the Narrows, Bruce’s phone began to ring. It was Dick.

Excusing himself, he muted the comm and picked up his phone.

0o0o0

Dick was purposefully driving like a maniac. Hitting the walls, spinning out. Not letting Tim know that he was letting him win.

At this age Tim had been alone. Lived alone with minimal friends and having never played mario kart before his body didn’t remember the strategies.

So Dick helped even the playing field.

Jason had been more… lost… today. His gaze vacant, not really attentive and not responding to his name. Only when you touched him, and even then you sometimes had to shake him for him to notice.

It was sweet but also concerning when Jason had jumped in to comfort Damian. As he rocked Damian back and forth, humming that song, he didn’t look real. He looked like a robot. Like the shell of a person.

It had made his skin crawl.

But Bruce hadn’t reacted, like he had known it would happen. That Jason’s actions would calm Damian.

Jason seemed to need more sleep on days that he wasn’t really there. Like the minor things they would ask of him took exceptional effort, like he had to fight to be aware.

It was nearing 1 AM, Dick was considering ending the game after this round. Tim had been yawning for almost half an hour and it was really starting to pick up now.

They sat on the floor, side by side in their pjs. Dick in an old pair of sweatpants and a BPD hoodie and Tim in an old band t-shirt and grey flannel pj bottoms.

It was easier to be with Tim. He didn’t know if it was because they just got along better or if it was because he had already done this before. Shoved his anger aside for Tim. So Tim wouldn’t end up lost like Jason had, wouldn’t end up dead.

As Dick leaned his body with the turn in the video game he all but slammed into Tim. The younger had to lean back against him to prevent himself from falling over at the attack. “Cut it out Dick,” Tim giggled as he was able to pull ahead of Dick once again.

“Have respect for your elder Timmy.”

“Elder? You can’t even drink” he quipped back.

“Ya and guess what?” Dick asked rhetorically as he threw a red shell at Tim’s character. “I can still whoop your butt in Mario Kart.”

The chimes of passing the finish line sounded as Tim’s character finally came out of their spin, signaling Dicks victory.

Just because Dick was evening the playing field didn’t mean he had to let the kid win every round. That would just be suspicious.

0o0o0

As the pair made their way up to their bedrooms Dick heard something as they walked down the hallway. It was soft, almost like murmur or rustling.

Tim walked past, not noticing the sound. He hadn’t been trained yet, this version of him – this pre-Robin Tim – had brushed past the odd noise without even hearing it.

Dick pretended nothing was wrong, not letting on that anything had happened as they entered their respective bedrooms.

As soon as he heard Tim’s door close he quietly opened his own. Sneaking out into the hallway toward Jason’s door.

Quietly turning the knob he slowly opened the door, creaking the door open just enough so he could see Jason’s sleeping form on the bed.

He must have been dreaming, his body lazily jerking every so often as he changed positions. Reacting to whatever images his mind was making, rolling on his bed as the dream seemed to be turning sour.

With Jason not being that with it during the day he didn’t think he would be enough to calm him from a nightmare. Instead he pulled out his phone.

“Yes,” Bruce said, answering on the first ring.

“Hey,” Dick whispered as he turned the knob again, silently closing the door. “I think Jay’s having a nightmare.”

“I’ll be right up,” Bruce huffed out before hanging up, not being one for ‘goodbye’s.

0o0o0

By the time Bruce enters the family wing the hallway is empty, but even from the hallway he can hear Jason.

Opening his son’s door, he enters the bedroom without hesitation. Inside Jason is panting. Covered in sweat and thrashing in the guest bed as he mumbles to himself.

Bruce walks closer after closing the door behind him, giving them privacy. Sitting down next to his sleeping son Bruce leans over him. One hand landing on the bed behind Jason and the other landing in his hair as the boy laid on his side.

Jason was mumbling something undecipherable, his scarred hands twitching against the sheets like he was trying to grab something that wasn’t there.

Stroking his fingers through the sweat damp curls he tries to first soothe Jason, hoping he won't have to wake the boy up.

It doesn’t work.

Instead, Jason jerks awake. His body waking itself up from the nightmare without needing Bruce to help.

As he jerks himself into a sitting position he immediately clocks that there is someone in the room with him. Staring at Bruce, recognition instantly washes over his face. The fear from the nightmare momentarily lifts the fog in his mind.

Flinging himself forward, Jason snuggled into his side as Bruce wraps both of his arms around him. Pulling Jason into his lap he begins to rock his son slowly back and forth. Taking a calculated risk, Bruce begins to hum the same lullaby Jason had been humming earlier in the night to Damian.

As Jason recognized the tune, his breath hitched. Bruce could feel the tension bleed from his muscle, his body getting heavier as he relaxed into Bruce’s hold.

Jason’s breathing began to even out in his hold. His head resting on Bruce's shoulder, slightly lulling back and forth as they rocked together. His arms limp at Bruce’s sides as sleep began to wash over him again.

Not wanting to put him down, Bruce stands. Carrying Jason down the hall so they could sleep in his bed together, as they had done once upon a time when Jason was little and didn’t want the nightmares to come back.

Chapter Text

The next morning Bruce woke up with his left arm numb as he lied on his back. On his left side he felt a warmth pressed against the length of his body.

Jason.

His head was on Bruce’s shoulder, his back on Bruce's side as he hugged his forearm. His hand rested on Jason’s stomach as it bent at the elbow.

He could feel the slow rhythmic in and out as he breathed in his sleep.

He turned his head, looking at his right night stand, he noticed that it was 6:48 AM. It would still be a while until Jason awoke.

Trying his best, Bruce lifted Jason’s head, transferring it from his shoulder to a pillow before removing himself to go to the bathroom and grab a laptop to entertain himself for the next hour or so.

0o0o0

Jason was out of it. More than he had been since the spell was cast upon them. Bruce hadn’t even been able to tell that Jason woke up, his breathing rate never changing. When he had finally realized Jason was awake it was almost 8 AM.

He was just lying there, unmoving, but his eyes were open. Unfocused and hazy, as if he had been drugged with a sedative.

Bruce realized very quickly Jason was reactive in the slightest. When he tried to make Jason sit, lightly pulled him up. Jason didn’t move, just stayed limply lying on the bed.

Not even moving his eyes.

0o0o0

Bruce was walking down the stairs. He had changed Jason into a different pair of PJs and was currently carrying him.

He had been gone the entire time Bruce had been taking care of him this morning. Completely detached from the world. Not reacting to any stimuli of getting changed, moved or having Bruce brush his teeth.

He was like a breathing corpse.

0o0o0

At the breakfast table sat his other three children at various stages of consciousness. Damian sat in a high chair, the most awake of the group. Dick sat beside him, helping him with cutting up the fruit. He looked almost hung over, still half asleep with his hair standing on end, like a hedgehog. Tim seemed to only be slightly out of it, sure it was early but this was the most sleep he had gotten in a long time.

As Bruce walked in, he walked over to the coffee machine. Setting Jason on the counter as he felt the four other occupants' eyes on him, he made himself a cup. Jason still limply lying against him, his eyes technically cast towards the family table but unseeing.

No one commented.

Wordlessly, Alfred began to plate food for Bruce, setting it at his normal spot before moving back to the counter.

As Bruce moved them to the table he greeted the other children before trying to feed Jason small bites of scrambled eggs from his plate.

He didn’t react. Didn’t even close his mouth when the food was placed on his tongue.

Removing it, to prevent Jason from accidentally choking on it, aligned perfectly with when Alfred set a store bought smoothie beside him.

Cracking the factory seal, Bruce tipped Jason’s head back slightly, pouring the slightest amount into his mouth.

He swallowed.

0o0o0

Light chatter had befallen the group as they sat, finishing their meals.

Bruce had gotten Jason to drink most of his smoothie when he suddenly sat up. Removing himself from Bruce’s lap, the room fell silent as he stood on shaky legs. Bruce’s hands hovering around him in case he loses his balance.

He started walking, gaining steadiness on his legs. He walked until he reached the nearest blank wall. Staring at it for a moment before he began slamming his head into it.

Chapter Text

The first crack of his skull on the drywall, the hollow thunk making everyone freeze. The second had Bruce and Dick lunging forward, hearts stuttering as Jason drew back for a third.

Just before Jason was able to connect to the wall again Dick was able to get his hand in the way. Cushioning the blow with his palm as blood began to trickle down his wrist.

With his other hand he grabbed Jason’s bicep, pulling Jason flush against his own body to prevent the assault from continuing.

When Bruce reached their side Dick moved the hand holding Jason’s head wound to Jason’s chin. Securing Jason’s face to his chest but also allowing Bruce to see the damage. He was vaguely aware of Damian crying in the background, his adrenaline too high for him to fully register it though.

Jason was flailing in Dick’s grasp as Bruce began shushing him, trying to part his hair to see the wound.

0o0o0

Each adult in the household took a child. Damian with Dick, Tim with Alfred and Jason with Bruce. They thought it better everyone stays one on one after breakfast, Tim and Damian having been very shaken from the experience.

Damian refused to leave Dick’s lap, admitting that he wanted physical comfort after the ordeal. Tim was trying to pretend it hadn’t affected him, researching on his laptop as Alfred meal prepped for his scheduled yearly vacation from the Manor. He had tried to insist that he stay given the state of everyone, but Bruce had insisted they would be fine.

It was in everyone’s interest that Jason be sedated.

In his office sat Bruce, Jason wrapped in a blanket on his lap as Bruce had a zoom call with Lucius about W.E.

0o0o0

Tim watched from the doorway. Dick had swaddled Damian, it was a bit awkward but it did its job. Damian had fallen asleep in his lap as they watched Ice Age.

“Hey baby bird,” Dick greeted as he noticed Tim peeping at them from the doorway. “How are you doing?”

“It's supposed to rain in a few hours,” Tim said, avoiding the question.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Dick replied, clearly confused as to where the conversation was going.

“He was trying to make the pain stop.”

“...” Dick furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding Tim's thought process.

“Jason,” he explained. “Pressure changes can start 24-48 hours before a storm hits. He’s been acting worse since yesterday morning.”

“With his head wound being old, the pressure change would likely make it ache” Tim explained further. “His reaction is getting worse as the storm nears because his scar hurts more.”

Dick didn’t say it aloud, but the thought came anyway. Jason had spent who knows how long like this the first time, alone. Endure league training while like this. No pain killers. No one to be one on one, taking care of him. To him, maybe self harm had been a solution to get pain killers, to finally get the care he needed.

The thought made Dick’s chest tighten.

“That,” Dick contemplated, “is a really good point Timmy.” Looking down at the sleeping Damian in his arms he made a judgement call. “Can you hold Damian while I go tell Bruce of your idea?”

Tim most of the time just avoided or stared at Damian, clearly not knowing how to handle children. But Dick thought this way would be the lesser of two evils. He had seen how badly Jason’s outburst had scared Tim, with Jason still having a bad day it wasn't fair to ask Tim to go talk to Bruce.

Tim must have understood Dicks thought process as he accepted the offer. Walking forward and awkwardly holding out his arms to accept Damian, not really knowing what he was doing.

0o0o0

Knock knock knock.

“Come in,” Bruce called over Jason’s head to the closed door.

As Dick entered the study he spared a glance at Jason. He looked even worse than before, his eyes glassy as his head lolled backwards, his mouth slightly agape. He looked like there were no lights on upstairs. Just a human shell that no longer held life. The only indicator saying otherwise was the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled.

“Tim came up with a theory about earlier,” Dick stated cautiously, testing the waters.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, indicating to him to continue.

“The pressure changes from the incoming storm, it would make his old wounds hurt. He could have been trying to make it stop.”

A ‘hmmmm’ is all of a response he got as Bruce looked down at Jason.

0o0o0

They switched out his IV drugs from a sedative to a painkiller. Bruce hated how clinical it all felt — like patching up a weapon instead of caring for his son. But he hated more the way Jason’s eyes looked glassy and empty without it. He knew that Jason, if he was aware, would adamantly refuse the opioids. There was little else he could do though.
So he sat by and held Jason’s hand as the awareness slowly crept back in. It took hours, but the fog finally began to lift.

0o0o0

It was nearing dinner time. Damian was due to start fussing soon. With Jason being aware of his surroundings again and Alfred having already left for his trip, Bruce removed Jason from his lap. Standing, he grabbed Jason’s IV stand in one hand and Jason’s hand in the other before heading to the kitchen.

Jason was still being clingy but he was 1000 times better than he had been when they had woken up.

When they got to the kitchen Bruce grabbed some of the prepped meals from the fridge. Setting the containers on the counter, Jason started to whine at the lack of contact, Bruce having let go of his hand to grab the food.

Accessing the situation, Bruce picked Jason up. Setting him on the counter he angled his body so that Jason could lean on him, keeping the physical contact, while Bruce prepared their meals for dinner.

He was able to cook Damian’s chickpea stir fry with Jason on the counter, keeping his arm stretched out so they could hold hands as he cooked. Enough contact to keep the boy content as he emerged from the fog he had been lost in.

After that he assembled chicken salad wraps for everyone else, calling Dick to bring the boys down for dinner as he was finishing up.

0o0o0

Sitting down for dinner was good for them. Dick looked like he needed a break while Damian was on the edge of tears and Tim was trying to hide behind Dick.

They were nervous about seeing Jason after the morning's event.

In the time it took him to get their meal together, Jason had come around even more. Once again not needing physical contact and being able to recognize that his siblings had entered the room. His gaze met Dick’s the second they entered the room.

“Hey little wing,” DIck greeted as he adjusted Damian on his hip. “You feeling better?”

Jason didn’t answer, still having only spoken when he was aware but in severe distress. Instead he just continued to look at Dick, his eyes clear and focused.

Dick smiled at him before walking over to the table. Tim, seeing the difference in Jason’s demeanor being enough to coax him out from behind Dick.

Jason continued standing where he was as the others sat down, Bruce transferring their plates from the counter to the table as Jason watched. Bruce, having to guide him to his chair at the table after he was done.

As they sat and began to eat Bruce scooted his chair closer to Jason to feed him first. Before he was able to though, Jason grabbed his wrap in stiff fingers. Slowly bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite on his own.

Everyone noticed, Dick having the most dramatic of the facial expressions. Tim and Damian were visibly relaxing as they noticed Jason’s mental state having improved so much in such a short amount of time.

Running a hand through Jason’s hair, Bruce moved back to his spot at the head of the table. Taking a bite of food as he watched his young children before him.

Chapter Text

Wonder Woman and Superman found the magic user.

They had been able to corner her in one of her safehouses she was hiding in in Massachusetts.

As she had tried to flee from them she had cast the same spell she had on the Batfamily on Wonder Woman, but it hadn’t worked. They would figure out why later, right now Zatanna was figuring out how to turn them back.

0o0o0

“This should work Bruce” Zatanna stated as she was making the final preparations for the spell. They were all in the cave. Dick stood at the far end, Tim to his right and Damian directly in front of him. Both had one of Dick arms draped over them, his hands rubbing small circles over their clothed skin to try and offer comfort.

To their right stood Bruce, at his feet sat Jason. With the storm having passed they had tapered off his pain meds. He still seemed slightly out of it, but they couldn’t tell if that was the drugs or if he was just having a bad day.

They had dressed in the clothing they had been in when originally changed. Bruce and Dick in old uniforms, Damian and Jason in their League garb and Tim in his pjs.

Then, Zatanna begins the ritual. Combining both her own and the magic users styles so she would have more familiarity to the magic, giving herself more control.

The runes Zatanna drew burned faintly against the cave floor, smoke curling up into the dim light. The colony of bats stirred uneasily above, their squeaks echoing in the hush as the air grew heavy with static. Even Damian, ever unflinching, pressed closer to Dick’s side.

A familiar light blue fog surrounded them as the tingling of pins and needles began encroaching up their limbs. Backing into Bruce’s legs, he could hear Jason whimper as he tried to get away from the odd feeling.

And then, the feeling receded along with the smoke. An eerie silence befalling them all as Zatanna smiled at them.

Quickly looking at his family, they were all back to their proper ages and in their current uniforms. As everyone inspected themselves and those around them Jason stayed sitting on the floor.

Everyone is relieved to be their proper ages again—Tim immediately goes to grab coffee, Dick makes some joke about his back hurting as an adult, Damian complains about being stuck in his 13-year-old body again.

Jason, however, doesn’t react the way they expect. He’s physically his adult self but still quiet, dissociated, sitting on the floor silently as he had before they performed the reversal.

Kneeling down – Bruce needing to adjust because he had forgotten about his lingering chronic pain – Bruce removed Jason’s helmet.

He didn’t react, the cave going deathly silent besides the chittering of the bat colony above.

Brushing Jason’s helmet hair off his forehead, Bruce’s heart sank. Jason’s face still held unfocused hazy eyes, his facial muscles too lax. It looked wrong.

There’s a weird contrast, a sort of uncanny valley, between how much bigger and more intimidating he looks versus how fragile he appeared.

The knotting of scar tissue on his forehead was gone, replaced with the white tuft of hair the Lazarus had regrown. But the trauma was still there.

It hadn’t worked, not fully at least. Jason was still lost.

Bruce felt it settle in his chest like lead—the others were fine, but Jason wasn’t coming back. Not yet. Maybe not at all.

Chapter Text

They all went out that night, after they had put Jason to bed. They needed to stretch their legs after having been cooped up for so long.

No one said it, but they all felt it. It felt wrong being out without Jason. Knowing he was stuck at home because of some reaction the magic had had with his previous state of being.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said tentatively as he joined the com link from the cave. “I am sorry to disturb you but I thought it best to inform you that Master Jason had been wandering the manor. I just put him back to bed, I shall keep the camera’s pulled up in case he leaves his bedroom again tonight.”

Bruce hummed in response. Sparing with himself in his mind whether or not to go back. Jason had only been violent against himself when the storm was coming. The next rainfall was predicted for four days from now.

Unless Jason was looking for him. His reverted self hadn’t reacted well to his departure previously.

“I’m heading back,” Batman stated in the comms. “Robin, you will follow Nightwing for the rest of the night,” he instructed as he looked down to his son.

Robin nodded his understanding before jumping off the side of the building. Shooting his grapple as he made his way to Nightwings current location.

“Keep tabs on each other. Watch each other's backs. Call if you need me.” And with that, Batman jumped from the building himself. Angling his swing to bring him to the stashed Batmobile.

0o0o0

“Master Bruce,” Alfred stated as he joined the cars comm link. “Master Jason has just left his bedroom again. Would you like me to go retrieve him or would you like the pleasure?”

Bruce glanced at the map. He was only about a minute out from the cave. It would take another three minutes to remove his gear and rinse off in the shower.

“Keep an eye on him,” Bruce replied as he returned his eyes to the road. “If he’s just walking around he should be fine for a few minutes alone.”

“Of course Master Bruce.” There was a few seconds of silence before he tacked on “I will say – as the night wore on – he did seem to be more aware of the conversations going on around him.”

“Hmm” Bruce replied. He knew what Alfred was talking about. At dinner Jason had fed himself, something he had only done the one other time since the spell was cast. Being seated at the head of the table it was easy for Bruce to recognize that Jason was following the conversation more than he had been. Moving his head as his siblings spoke around him, without the needed prompter of saying his name first.

He seemed to be coming back to himself. Which is why the wandering was concerning.

0o0o0

As Bruce ascended the stairs to the old grandfather clock he couldn’t help but reminisce. Jason had always been a light sleeper. Of all the children who had slept in these halls under his supervision – whether they were his own or their friends – Jason had been the only one who had been awoken by his footsteps.

Bruce and Alfred had spent the most time in the Manor. They knew where to walk to avoid the creaking of the old wooden floors.

And yet Jason would still wake up every time one of them passed his doorway.

With Alfred having been in the cave though, it was curious why he was up. What had awoken him?

Where was he wandering too?

Alfred had informed him that Jason had entered the kitchen, then immediately left. Entered the study fully, closing the door behind him before slowly spinning in a circle and made his way back out of the room.

Now he was walking back to the family wing.

Based on the quick look he had spared at the cameras Jason didn’t look hostile, just… aimless. The recordings of him standing in the hallway, staring at the rows of medical textbooks in the dark. Staring at the grandfather clock like he’s waiting for something.

Bruce found him as he was knocking at Bruce’s bedroom door.

It was the same knock he had done as a child, a quick succession of four knocks before waiting for a response.

“Jaylad,” Bruce spoke from the other end of the hall, still walking towards his son. Posture open, shoulder lax. “Are you alright?”

Jason turned as Bruce spoke his old nickname, recognition fluttering across his face before it faded beneath the fog just as fast as it had come.

Instead, Bruce walked forward. Gently leading Jason by the elbow into his bedroom. Closing the door behind them, Bruce guided Jason to bed. Moving one hand to Jason’s hip as the other snaked around his neck.

Pushing Jason’s hips backwards as he kept Jason upright, sitting him down on the edge of the bed.

As he moved, swinging Jason’s legs onto the bed and he lowered Jason’s head onto the pillow his attention was diverted to the task. He didn’t notice his son’s eyes come back into focus.

A quiet “D-Dad?” snapped Bruce to attention, immediately turning to look Jason in the eyes.

He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over Jason to brush the bangs off his forehead as he whispered “it’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“W-what happ-ppened” he questioned as he turned his head, trying to figure out where he was. His brows furrowed before his gaze returned to Bruce, trying to piece together why he would be in Bruce’s bedroom.

He ignored Jason’s question, there was too much that needed to be explained and now was not the time. “Go back to sleep,” he said instead, running his thumb over Jason’s check.

Chapter Text

Bruce awoke to the bed moving.

Jason.

Opening his eyes as he sat up he looked over at Jason. He had propped himself up on his elbow, the heel of his free hand pressing into the eye below his white streak.

Bruce didn’t interrupt, just kept watching him. Gauging where he mental state currently was after last night's awareness.

He moved his hand up, combing his fingers through the bedhead curls as he forced his eyes open. The room was still dark, the little bit of light peeking through the edges of the backout curtains.

His eyes shouldn’t need to adjust to light.

He began roughly blinking, as if trying to refocus his eyes before he violently shook his head.

Before Bruce had a chance to react, he stopped. Sitting up straight as he surveyed his surroundings.

When their eyes met it wasn’t the emotion packed, fiery gaze he had become so used to receiving from Jason since his return. Nor was it the blank stare of a comatose child, a child that hated to lose physical contact with him. Instead it was like time had been rewritten.

This was Jason. The Jason he had day dreamed about before he had come back. In those lonely hours, in a too empty manor. When the walls grew ears and the doors grew eyes, the manor, the universe seemed to just be observing him. Watching him fall apart at the seams.

It was those times, when he knew he needed rest, knew he was passing his own limits for lack of self care, that he would eventually submit. Trudging his exhausted body to his bedroom, past his sons bedrooms. One who was so filled with rage because of Bruce’s failures and one who now rested in Gotham cemetery.

Two doors, likely to never open again in his lifetime.

He would complete his nightly routine. It wasn’t methodical anymore. He was a robot covered in skin. A rat, fleeing from one sinking ship to the next. Just barely keeping himself above the surface.

On those days, when he would finally lay down to sleep, his heart would start rabbiting away in his chest when he looked at the bed.

He knew the sleep would be filled with fire and a boy too small. Too young.

Those were the times he would fantasize about Jason. It was the only way he could will his body to lie in the bed.

He rationalized it to himself as a form of contingencies. The problem is he knew too much about psychology. Knew he was maladaptive daydreaming.

They were simple, calming. Imaging how their lives could have played out. Jason had always wanted to go to college, he had stated once that he wanted to be an English professor when Bruce falsely guessed he wanted to be a writer.

Jason had taken a few writing courses at his time in Gotham Academy, he was good. But that's not where his passions lied. He loved taking in the words, decoding their messages as he read between the lines and deduced what was to come. Analyzing the work had been his passion.

He had always been a detective.

Now, looking at the man before him. That's who he saw, his daydream come to life. The countless ‘what if's' that he had used to lull his grief stricken mind to sleep personified.

Jason wasn’t looking at him as a life line or a threat, he was looking at him as a father.

0o0o0

Last night, after Jason had fallen back to sleep, Bruce had informed the group chat of Jason’s breakthrough. While Jason was using the bathroom this morning he had skimmed the messages he had received in reply. They were the expected replies plus a “🔮🪄✨🌈sending good vibes🔮🪄✨🌈” from Stephanie.

Walking down the corridor seemed to exhaust him, like he was fighting his body to simply walk. The methodical movements no longer coming naturally. Bruce offered a hand to steady him, Jason accepted.

No anger, no snarky comment, just nodded as Bruce placed his hand on Jason’s elbow and lower back. Helping steady his steps as they made their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but make the comparison of a horse or baby deer standing for the first time. Trying to figure out how to support their weight with the lanky appendages.

Chapter Text

They ate breakfast together. Jason was still quiet, not much progress in the short time since he resurfaced from his fog, still having little ticks that he would perform at random intervals. Seemingly keeping up with the conversation though not offering any input.

Jason kept readjusting his grip on his fork before putting it down entirely. Using his nondominant hand to rub the palm and fingers that had been holding the fork, as if trying to work out a pesky knot in a muscle. Or stiffness in a joint.

It was almost normal.

Except for it wasn’t normal.

There had only been a few times Jason had joined them for dinner. He had never joined them for breakfast. Never slept in the manor since he was 15 years old.

Bruce couldn’t tell if he was mourning, reminiscing or hopeful. He missed his children, only recognizing now that he hadn’t been spending enough time with any of them.

Though no one would acknowledge it, everyone could see it, Dick was more of a father to Damian than he had ever been. He was jealous of their familiar bond, their companionship. Of how Dick had been able to help Damian act his age, let his walls down even if it was just for an hour or so.

He would do better. For all of them.

Jason stood abruptly. His chair squeaked against the marble tile as it was forced backwards before one of the legs caught on the grout, sending the furniture crashing to the floor.

He didn’t move. Just stood there, bending at the waist so his hands were resting on the table.

“Jason, what's wrong,” Bruce asked. Reaching out as he stood, placing a hand around Jason’s waist. He wasn’t swaying yet, but the physical contact helped calm Bruce’s nerves. He looked fine, he wasn’t pale or panting.

He was blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision, like something was stuck in his eye.

He didn’t respond, just continued to stand. Leaning on the table, blinking harshly at his food as his neck tick got worse for a few seconds.

“I wanna lay down,” he finally whispered in reply. His voice breaking, as if he was trying to hold back tears.

Bruce began to run circles on Jason’s back, whispering “okay”. Not knowing if Jason’s headache was back.

He applied slight pressure on Jason’s side, guiding him away from the table. The closest was the sitting room by the foyer, the couches were uncomfortable but it was the closest room that wasn’t a staircase away.

Jason stumbled.

His legs buckled out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. Bruce wasn’t fast enough to save him from crashing both knees into the tile, the sound cutting the silence as the others abandoned the table as well.

Bruce maneuvered him into a sitting position, Jason had stood on his own accord mere seconds ago. He had felt something change, something coming. He had tried to get ahead of it, tried to get out of the room that was nothing but hard surfaces, bright lights and sharp objects.

It was coming on fast.

Jason was sputtering nonsense as Bruce crouched beside him. “I don’t — no i didn’t — no no no no — I can’t –”. Bruce shushed him.

Brushing the tears away that were now freely flowing down his cheeks. “It’s okay, you have to lay down. Okay? Can you lay down for me Jason?”

Out of the corner of his eye Bruce recognized Tim ripping his hoodie off over his head before folding it into a makeshift pillow as Bruce was coaxing Jason to lay down. He was lost again, now able to talk though. He couldn’t form a sentence, it was just babbling as tears streaked down his face. Tim passed the hoodie to Dick who was already kneeling at Jason’s other side, sliding the garment under Jason’s head as he came to rest on the cold tile.

Jason’s gaze flicked back and forth between their faces before settling on Bruce. There was a crazed fear in his eyes as the tears continued, his breath hitching on each inhale. All of their hearts froze in their chests as Jason asked “Where am I?”

Bruce continued to wipe his tears away, Jason gently grabbing at the sleeves of his turtle neck, as if trying to ground himself in something real. Something tangible.

He gave a pained smile to his second son, saying “you’re home, Jason.”

As if on que — like hearing Bruce’s voice had triggered it — Jason began to seize.

“Damian go —”.

“Midazolam, he is 91 kilograms” Damian interrupted as he ran out the door to the grandfather clock. Dick and Bruce turned Jason to lay on his side as the muscle spasms continued. Bruce bracketed his head, keeping him on the sweatshirt while Dick and Tim prevented him from hitting the island or the legs of the furniture.

“15 seconds” Tim announced as they had settled into their positions.

A severe seizure would last 5 minutes. Given the unique circumstances as of late there was no telling what was the exact cause or how long it would last.

“30 seconds”

Jason was spasming too much, they wouldn’t be able to give the medication IV. they didn’t have the intranasal formula which left IM – which would take slightly longer – and buccal. The injection into his gums would be the fastest and safest given the circumstances, assuming he didn’t accidentally bite the one administering the medication.

“45 seconds”

Jason’s saliva had turned to foam, “Alfred can you–” looking up, Alfred was already there. Holding the napkin Bruce was going to ask for.

“One minute”

Bruce leaned forward, trying his best to hold Jason’s head still with one hand while using his free hand to wipe the spit out of his son’s mouth. They had just been eating, the act itself caused the body to create more saliva. The last thing they needed was for Jason to aspirate. He just hoped Jason’s body wouldn’t feel it and clamp down.

“75 seconds”

He didn’t. Turning the napkin over to the dry side he quickly dried the spit from Jason’s face before throwing the napkin within reaching distance.

“90 seconds”

Damian burst through the entry way. He carried the supplies for an IV as well as the Midazolam bottle in hand. He had gotten the wrong needle for a buccal injection. It would still work, there would just be more trauma to the tissue.

Without a word Dick adjusted, moving himself to control Jason’s head as Bruce wordlessly took the supplies. Damian, panting from his sprint to the cave, stepped over Jason. Squeezing himself between Jason, Dick and the island. Replacing Dick job of protecting Jason’s arms from hitting the brickwork of the island and harming himself.

“105 seconds”

Bruce filled the syringe. Confusion passed Dick’s face as he pulled Jason’s lip back. It was the wrong needle, but he knew it would still work. Applying pressure he placed the needle behind Jason’s canine before depressing the plunger.

Slowly, the spams ceased.

“Grand mal seizure lasting just under 2 minutes,” Tim summarized for the room as they collectively let out a sign of relief.

0o0o0

Bruce had carried Jason to the family room. Placing him gently on the sofa as Dick propped his head onto a pillow. Tim sat himself in the recliner as he started up the streaming service for what was undoubtedly going to turn into a movie marathon. Damian waited patiently behind them all. Bruce settled himself on the floor as Alfred draped a throw blanket over Jason’s unconscious form. When he had finished by tucking Jason in, Damian finally set down the glass of water he had silently grabbed as they all made their way out of the kitchen. Abandoning their breakfast as they had all lost their appetites.

Jason was still in the sweats he had slept in, now coated in sweat from the muscle spasms. But he was lying on a couch. Should another seizure start there was little risk of him getting physically harmed from the thrashing.

0o0o0
They were almost halfway through the movie when Jason began to stir.

Five minutes later his breathing pattern changed. He was awake, but trying to figure out where he was. He hadn’t done that since the spell was cast.

Yet Bruce stayed still, letting Jason have the space he needed to work through his re-emergance. He was watching him, out of the corner of his eye. Not like a hawk, but a concerned father that was trying not to hover.

“What the fuck happened,” Jason croaked out. His voice sounding hoarse from lack of use.

Everyone’s attention snapped to him, the movie completely forgotten.

Bruce was the first to speak. Asking “what do you remember?”

Jason propped himself up on his elbow while he ran the other hand through his hair. Just grazing the white streak in his bangs as he replied “umm, we were chasing down a witch.”

They all waited with bated breath, but Jason didn’t continue. He had no memory for the last two weeks.

Wordlessly Tim began typing on his laptop as he stood. “Here, I made this in case you didn’t remember anything.”

It sometimes scared Bruce how much his children were like him. Better than him. He hadn’t even developed a contingency for if Jason came back without memories of being reverted.

Handing over his headphone, Jason looked at the screen confused but accepted it. Everyone’s attention reluctantly turned back to the movie while Jason watched a breakdown of security footage that had been spliced together. Highlighting what had happened since his memories had hit pause.

0o0o0
He closed the laptop. He was exhausted. Watching himself seize on the kitchen floor was not on his bucket list and he could have done without seeing half of the shit his catatonic self had done.

But they weren’t making fun of him for it. Instead they had all gathered in the same room, waited for him to wake back up.

They hadn’t even known he was going to get his memories back.

Yet they had stayed.

He knew they were trying to be respectful. Only looking at the movie without really seeing it. Focusing all of their attention on Jason should he speak up.

Jason stretched, then let out a soft grunt. “My knees hurt.”

“You fell hard,” Bruce said quietly.

“I saw,” he forced out before he fell into a coughing fit.

Bruce turned, patting Jason’s back. When the coughing subdued he wordlessly offered the water Damian had gotten to Jason.

Bruce hadn’t thought about getting him water either.

After a beat of silence, Jason laid back down. He closed his eyes, Bruce’s hand still comfortingly resting against his neck. Bruce having not removed it after helping him lower himself.

“I’m exhausted,” Jason finally said. His voice coming out quieter than he meant as sleep had already begun creeping in around the edges of his consciousness. Bruce rubbing circles into his check not helping him stay awake.

“Go back to sleep Jason,” Bruce instructed, whispering to his second son.

“Hmmm, Night” he replied before he rolled onto his side. Putting his back to the movie screen.

It was such a small word, but the relief in his posture spoke volumes. He was looking away, settling deeper into the couch. Bruce let him rest, allowing the silence to linger.

Jason didn’t remember the weight of the two weeks they had just lived through.

But Bruce would.

And he would carry it gladly — because Jason was back.