Chapter Text
Jason’s the first one on the scene. Something happened to Nightwing; all they heard over comms was “Hostile magic user! Need back--” before Dick was cut off and his line went to static.
The first thing Jason sees is a pile of Nightwing’s suit, complete with boots and gloves. Oh, shit. He’s about to call in Nightwing’s disappearance when the suit moves. Jason approaches cautiously; for all he knows, Dick’s been turned into an angry rattlesnake. But then he gets closer, and a tiny head pops out of the suit. A tiny human head. With light brown skin, a halo of black curls and piercing blue eyes. Oh, shit.
“O, I’ve got eyes on ‘Wing. He’s here, but we’ve got a... situation.”
Jason ignores whatever Oracle says in response and pops his helmet off, tapping his in-ear comm to mute it. He crouches down near the toddler that’s become of his brother and holds out his hands in what he hopes is a calming gesture. He’s aware that at 6’3” and over 250 pounds of almost solid muscle, he’s not the most unthreatening presence; he just prays that Dick recognizes him instead of screaming his tiny head off.
“Hey, Dickie,” he tries in his most soothing voice. He can’t tell from within his own head if it makes any kind of a difference.
“It’s me, Jason. You remember me? Jay?” The tiny mouth opens, and out comes the squeakiest voice Jason has ever heard.
“Jay?”
“Yeah, Dickie, it’s me. We gotta get you back home, bud, can you --” Jason cuts himself off to lunge for the baby as he starts trying to crawl over the rooftop, which probably has glass and gravel and all manner of grossness that Jason decidedly does not want this tiny child crawling through. He swoops up Dick in his arms and holds his breath for a long, frozen moment as he prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that Dick won’t freak out after being grabbed without warning.
Instead, Dick does the most adorable thing Jason has ever seen: he laughs. A cherubic smile splits his face, dimpling both his cheeks (god, the dimples) and crinkling up his star-bright eyes. Jason’s stuck, for a moment, staring at those baby blues and dimpled cheeks and the frizzy dark curls that surround Dick’s head, and. Jason’s heard that babies are adorable, but he’s seen babies, and none of them have been even close to this cute, not by a country mile. A tiny hand with wrinkly caterpillar fingers pats against his cheek and without his permission his face smiles right back at the baby. Dammit, he’s clearly going soft.
Voices elevate in his ear and he suddenly remembers what’s going on outside of the sphere of Dick’s cute (so fucking cute, what the actual fuck) little face. He taps his earpiece back on and wantonly interrupts whoever is speaking.
“Alright. So. I have Dick. And the thing is, the thing is. He - “ Dick smacks his cheek harder.
“Hey, Dickie, don’t do that, I need to --” “Jay! JayJay! JayJay!” a tiny voice pipes up. Jason rolls his eyes, but he can’t really begrudge his brother, not when he’s all of 2 years old and absolutely angelic.
“Yeah Dickie, it’s me. I gotta finish letting them know --” He’s cut off by sudden chaos on the line.
“Is that him?” “Did he call you JayJay? Can we call you --” This is so not how he wanted his night to go. He talks loudly enough to drown them all out.
“Dick has been de-aged. If you end up becoming a baby, then and only then will I let you call me JayJay. Do not try me on this.” His remonstration is somewhat undermined by the shrill voice still chanting “JayJay! JayJay!” in his ear, but he really can’t be mad at a toddler. Instead, he mutes his comm so he can talk to Dick without the entire fucking family sticking their noses where they don’t belong.
“Dickie! I hear you, bud! What’s so important?” Dick looks at him with absolutely no recognition in his eyes. Right. Baby. Jason gives in to his silent desire and lifts Dick up above his head, like he’s flying.
“You’re just a cute little monster, aren’t you?” Dick’s brilliant laughter is the best thing Jason has ever heard, so he does it again. And again. He stops abruptly when he realizes they’re no longer alone on the roof.
It’s the Big Bat himself, because of fucking course it is. Jason glares him down, daring him to mention what he just saw. Bruce clears his throat awkwardly.
“We got your report. I need to take him to the Cave for testing.” He steps towards them, his boots heavy on the rooftop. Dick looks startled, or maybe frightened, his eyes wide as he looks at Bruce and then back to Jason. Jason gets it. The hulking shadow in the Bat cosplay is meant to be intimidating. He pats Dick’s back encouragingly.
“That’s B, Dickie, you remember B?”
Jason feels the moment Bruce reaches out to take Dick from his arms, because Dick’s tiny body stiffens and he presses further into Jason’s shoulder. Bruce, ever oblivious to those outside himself, steps forward again, gauntleted hand coming to rest on Dick’s small arm, and Dick cries out, and that is it. Jason takes two steps back, bringing his free arm up to wrap around Dick’s back and hold him close.
“Lay off, B. He doesn’t want to go with you.”
Bruce is entirely unmoved by his now-infant son’s plight.
“He needs to come to the Cave.”
“Yeah, okay B, I’ll bring him to the Cave, just lay off. You’re scaring him!” B’s face wrinkles up, like he can’t quite understand what Jason’s saying, but he subsides.
“Bring him to the Batmobile.” And fine, fine, it’s not like he can take Dick home on his bike, but Jason feels resentful enough that he sticks his tongue out when B turns his back. And if he whispers “Good job!” to Dick when the toddler does the same, no one will ever know.