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Jason watches the scene before him with fascination—there’s something incredibly entertaining and…slightly disturbing about Batman being backed down by a couple of kids who weren’t old enough to drive or tall enough to come up to his shoulder. He grins maliciously, enjoying the moment, listening as his father attempts to reason with his younger brothers. Dick has settled himself against the computer desk, observing with an equally amused look.
The argument has been ongoing for the past hour now, a result of Bruce’s attempts to use the “I am the parent” and “do as I say” methods of parenting. If he’d tried approaching both boys separately, instead of giving them a chance to collaborate, he might have avoided this entire endeavor. It was clear he sincerely regretted his decisions thus far.
“For the last time,” he says, too exasperated to use his usual “Batman voice”. “You two are not going to be a part of this investigation. End of discussion!”
“But, Bruce!” Tim protests, managing to sound ridiculously persuasive. “You need us on this case! I mean, you and Jason can’t patrol the city and investigate these missing people cases alone—shut up, Dick, you’re not even staying for patrol tonight—and Damian and I are perfectly capable of looking into something that routine!”
Dick sulks slightly, more because he didn’t get to voice a protest than anything. Bruce looks like he’s regretting the decision to not just stop at two kids. Jason grins even wider, because there’s nothing quite as amusing as watching someone else try to argue with Tim.
“Besides, our size would be an advantage in this instance,” Damian interjects firmly, “And you always say to use any advantage we possess, Father. To demand our inaction would be a grave disregard to that logic.”
“And I said that it doesn’t matter.” Bruce snaps, looking over at both of his older children, as though hoping for help, “So, therefore, you two are staying here. Jason and I are perfectly capable of managing multiple cases at the same time, thank you, Tim. And, while Dick is going on the assignment for the League, he can still come back if we need the assistance.”
Jason snickers, waiting for the imminent retorts. He shoots Dick a grin, and the older man nods in agreement. They’re both deriving serious joy from the scene.
“Dick will be a minimum of three hours away. We’re right here. So…” Tim trails off, eyebrow raised.
Damian chimes in with “Be reasonable, Father.”
“For the last time, no!” Bruce practically shouts, patience fully spent. “You are both staying here. If either of you so much as think of leaving this cave without my blessing, then I will lock you both in one of the containment chambers! Do you understand?”
Both boys jump slightly at the tone, and, while most people would think they were otherwise unaffected, Jason can clearly see from here that they’re both a bit shaken by it. It’s evident in the way that Damian bristles, puffing out his tiny chest in an attempt to appear larger, and the way that Tim’s eyes change, the fire dying in them, fading until they look flat and dead. He can’t tell if Bruce notices, but he can see the slight frown on Dick’s face that says that he’s seen it too.
“I said,” Bruce reiterates, tone lower, but still intense. “Do. You. Understand?”
Tim presses his lips into a tight line, but nods reluctantly. Damian glares hard, trying to stare the man down. After a moment though, he growls out “Yes, sir.” in a tone far too dark for a child his age.
Bruce nods, grunts in approval, and turns to walk away towards the computer. Dick hops off the desk and sidles to the side, head cocked slightly as he observes. Both boys shoot glares at Bruce’s back, but finally they seem to admit defeat and head back upstairs, their posture stiff with rage.
As soon as they’re upstairs and out of earshot, Dick turns to Jason, eyebrows raised. Jason shrugs, so he turns back to stare at their father. After a second, he clears his throat.
“A little harsh, don’t you think?” he says tentatively. “I mean, they just wanna help.”
“Not with this case.” The man says firmly, eyes fixed on the screen.
Jason sighs, because he knows that Dick’s going to keep pushing it, and he expects Jason to help him.
“Since I’m on the case too,” he ventures, glaring over at Dick, “would you mind telling me why?”
Bruce sighs, shoulders slumping as he realizes that he’s not going to escape the discussion. He turns to looks at both of them, eyes tired, face grim. He inhales deeply, clearly trying to think of some way to word the topic where it’ll finish faster.
“Because,” he says, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “they don’t need to be involved in this. Look, Jason. There’s a lot going on here. Ten kids have been reported missing over the past two months, and in each case, their bodies have turned up…in the bed of the next missing child.”
“So it’s a serial killer.” Jason says, trying to figure out the exact reason for Bruce’s reluctance. “They’ve faced the Joker before, B. I don’t really think…”
“All the bodies were heavily mutilated.” Bruce continues, frowning at the memory. “And then there’s the victimology.”
“Let me guess,” Dick says irately, “Dark haired, blue-eyed boys?”
“Not entirely,” Bruce says, smiling slightly in spite of himself. “But yes, all the victims were boys between the ages of nine and eighteen. We still have no idea how or why the victims were chosen, and we’ve got no idea of how he’s getting in and out of the houses with a body or a living child.”
“I don’t supposed you told them that?” Jason says with frustration. “I mean, did you even bother to just talk to them and explain any of that?”
Bruce snorts softly. “Have you met those two? That wouldn’t have helped. Hell, in Damian’s case, it’d probably just galvanize him into some stupid, reckless plan for revenge. You know it would.”
Dick laughs softly. “Yeah, it probably would. But you still should have told them. I mean, you’re just trying to protect them here. So maybe you should have just said that.”
Jason nods in agreement. “He’s right. You really need to try communicating with them more often. I mean, maybe they wouldn’t have argued as much.”
“No. They’d have been even worse.” Bruce says with annoyance. “I mean, I’d get to listen to Tim complain about not needing my protection and Damian arguing that he’s not a child. Look, will you two back me up here? We all know that they’ll try to go behind my back, and odds are they’ll go to one of you.”
They both agree, although Jason’s already thinking about the other possibility—they could just work together. There’s absolutely nothing he’s seen that is as terrifying as Tim and Damian working together willingly. Although, now that he thinks about it, he’s not sure if Bruce has ever been a witness to this phenomena. He doesn’t say anything though, because he doubts that Bruce would even consider the possibility—it is hard to believe if you haven’t seen it.
Bruce leaves on patrol a few minutes later, and the two remaining vigilantes exchanges looks.
“So…” Dick says thoughtfully. “Whaddya think?”
“They’ll be going around him somehow. But probably not until he’s started to believe that they’re listening.” Jason states firmly. “…Three days, maybe?”
Dick nods. “Yeah. Sounds about right. I doubt they’ll go to us though.”
“Probably not.”
“Do we tell B, or just wait until it happens and do damage control?”
“What’s with this ‘we’ stuff?” Jason snorts in derision. “You’ll be on the other side of the world. I’m the one who’s gonna have to deal with those two and B.”
“Point.” Dick sighs. “Maybe they’ll behave? I mean, he was really pissed. And he definitely freaked them out a little there.”
“Sure. I mean, of course they’ll sit out and be patient because Bruce yelled at them. When have Tim and Damian ever disobeyed a direct command?”
Dick sighs again and shakes his head, but doesn’t try to argue. Jason thinks about the situation a little longer, then gives up. He shakes his head and heads towards his bike.
“I’ll try to do damage control.” Jason shouts over his shoulder. “If there’s any chance of it, anyway.”
They don’t bring it up again. Dick leaves for his mission, and Bruce and Jason patrol Gotham and try to catch the killer. Jason sees quickly why Bruce would want the younger boys to stay out of it—each scene is equally brutal and horrifying. And the pace is intense, with another dead child turning up each week, while a second goes missing. Then the pattern repeats.
There’s not enough time to really be suspicious of the fact that Tim and Damian don’t argue or complain with Bruce's edict at all during the month that follows. Jason just crosses his fingers and hopes that they’re being compliant because of how upset Bruce had been, and not because they’re plotting something. They’ve even gone to school all month with little complaint. Alfred has been incredibly vigilant, watching the boys like a hawk when they’re at home, and shuttling them to and from school each day without fail.
It’s been forty days, Jason thinks with exhaustion, falling face first onto the couch in the Manor. He groans, body aching all over—they’ve been out all night and a good part of the day each and every day since the altercation forty days ago. He relaxes against the couch, letting himself drift off, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep.
Jason jerks awake about thirty minutes later, because someone is poking him in the head. He growls, flinging a hand up in an attempt to shoo whoever it is away. He stops when he hears a very soft, disapproving cough.
“Why, Alfred?” he whines, trying to not open his eyes. “I’m not making a mess!”
He can hear Alfred roll his eyes in disapproval.
“Well, Master Jason,” the man sniffs, “it could be because you are sleeping on a couch, and not in a more…appropriate area.”
“Or?”
“Or, it could be because I needed your opinion on a matter of some importance.”
Jason sighs and sits up, looking at the elderly man blearily.
“Okay, shoot.”
“Well,” the man says, raising an eyebrow at Jason’s messy appearance. “It would seem that I find myself slightly…overbooked today. This morning, I had forgotten that I had made a commitment this afternoon to Mr. Fox.”
“And?”
“I will be unavailable at the time when school is released.”
“Oh. So who’s picking up the kids then?”
“That’s the reason I chose to disturb your much-needed slumber. I was wondering, if, in your opinion,” Alfred pauses, considers, then continues. “If, in your opinion, it would be prudent to arrange for alternative transportation, or if it was not entirely ill-advised for me to allow the young masters to walk to the main Wayne Enterprises building and remain there until I finish with my engagement?”
Jason frowns, thinking about it.
“Well…” he drawls out, considering the problem. “Have they behaved suspiciously to you?”
“Oh, no. Not at all, which, in a way, is rather odd in itself. However, I don’t get the feeling that they plan on attempting any of their more underhanded methods at this time.”
“Okay. If you don’t think that they’re plotting, then I think it’d be okay. I mean, if it was me, I’d be happier with that, actually. It’d mean that you trusted me not to do anything stupid. So…”
Alfred nods in agreement. “Quite. And that was much my thought process as well. Very well then, I shall have to inform both Young Master Timothy and Master Wayne of the change in plans.”
The man turns to leave the room.
“Oh, and Master Jason?” he says, turning back for a second. “Perhaps you could reconsider relocating yourself to a more appropriate place for sleep? I’ll have to leave Master Damian’s dog in the house unsupervised while I’m out, and he has been known to use this room for his more…rambunctious actions.”
Jason pictures the huge, clumsy Great Dane in his mind, then nods.
“Thanks, Alfred. I think I will.”