Archive of Our Own

Jason Todd was six years old, and he only knew how to make three things: grilled cheese sandwiches, scrambled eggs, and instant noodles.

He had to learn to make them because his mommy was sick. She had been ill for a long time, and lately, her condition had worsened. She spent most of her time bedridden; her tail lay almost motionless beneath the covers, and even when she was awake, her ears drooped against the pillow.

Jason would make her scrambled eggs before heading to kindergarten, carefully carrying the plate to her room so he wouldn't spill anything. Sometimes she would eat a little, smile, and—with her tail giving a gentle wag—say, "Thank you, baby. You’re such a good boy."

Those were the good days.

On the days when she was really sick, she wouldn't eat a thing. Her ears would lie flat against her head and her tail wouldn't move at all; Jason would sit by the bedside, holding her hand in his small one, his own ears drooping with worry.

But sometimes—though not often these days—mommy would be in a good mood. A really good mood. On those days, she’d get out of bed full of energy, her tail wagging constantly and her ears perked up just like they used to. On those days, she’d bake the best cookies in the world—soft chocolate chip cookies, packed with chocolate, served warm and gooey. She’d even rent him movies from the video store—his favorites, the cartoons he loved to watch.

Today was one of those days.

Jason woke up to the scent of baking cookies; his ears perked up instantly, and his tail started wagging before he was even fully awake. He scrambled out of bed and ran to the kitchen.

mommy was right there, standing by the stove, her tail wagging as she used a spatula to lift the cookies off the baking sheet. She was wearing her favorite blue sweater—even though it was summer and the weather was a bit warm. Her ears were perked up, and she looked full of life and cheerful—a sight Jason hadn't seen in weeks. “mommy!” Jason’s tail wagged furiously—so hard it almost hurt. “You’re making cookies!”

“I am,” she said, turning to smile at him. Her smile looked a little tired, but it was genuine. “I made scrambled eggs, too. You need a proper breakfast, sweetie.”

They ate breakfast together at the small kitchen table, just the two of them, as usual. Jason’s legs dangled beneath his chair, his feet unable to reach the floor. His tail kept wagging, thumping rhythmically against the back of the chair.

After breakfast, mommy did something strange. She went into Jason’s room and started packing his small backpack—the red one with the designs he’d drawn in marker. She put in his clothes: his favorite dinosaur T-shirt, his good jeans, and his star-patterned pajamas. She also packed his toothbrush and comb (though Jason didn’t much like using the comb on his ears; it tickled).

“mommy?” Jason asked, his ears perking up in confusion. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Yes, sweetie,” she said, her tail swaying; she was smiling, yet she looked a bit nervous. “We’re going on a little trip.”

Jason wagged his tail excitedly. “A trip? Like to the park?”

“Something like that,” mommy said. She zipped up the backpack and handed it to him. “Come on, we have to catch the bus.”

It was a long bus ride. mommy kept holding Jason’s hand, her thumb tracing gentle circles in his palm—just like she did when he was scared or sad. Her ears kept swiveling—forward, backward, then out to the sides—as if she were listening for something she couldn't quite make out.

Jason watched the city blur past the window, his nose pressed against the glass, his breath creating circles of mist. His ears perked up at every new sound: the roar of passing vehicles, the chime of bus stops, the chatter of other passengers.

They got off the bus and found themselves in a part of the city Jason had never seen before. The buildings here were grander and taller. Leafy trees shaded the streets, and the sidewalks were clean and tidy. Unlike the neighborhood where Jason used to live, no one here walked with a drooping tail; everyone’s ears were perked up, alert and attentive.

mommy led him to a massive building. A doorman stood by the glass entrance; his ears were fluffy—like a Golden Retriever’s—and were the furriest Jason had ever seen. The doorman smiled at them, gave a polite wag of his tail, and opened the door.

They took the elevator up. Jason felt a knot in his stomach and his ears flattened nervously against his head, but mommy held his hand tightly, her tail gently brushing against his, and he felt a little better.

When the elevator doors opened, they stepped into a hallway with only one door. mommy knocked; Jason noticed her hand was trembling and her tail was tucked tightly between her legs.

The door opened to reveal a man—tall, with dark hair and tired eyes. His ears, like a German Shepherd’s, looked alert and intelligent. Upon seeing them, his tail gave a surprised wag.

"Catherine," the man said, his voice low and kind. "I didn't expect—"

"Bruce," mommy said, her voice sounding strange and tense. "I need a favor—a big favor."

The man looked down at Jason, his ears perking up slightly in concern. "Of course. Come on in."

Bruce’s apartment was huge—probably bigger than the entire building where Jason lived. Tall windows offered a view of the city, and the room was filled with elegant furniture and bookshelves lined with volumes. Everything was spotless. Jason kept his tail tucked between his legs; he had suddenly realized his shoes were old and his clothes stained—he didn't belong in a place like this at all.

But Bruce crouched down to meet Jason at eye level, his tail wagging gently, and smiled. "You must be Jason. Your mommy has told me about you."

"Hi," Jason said softly, his ears drooping shyly. mommy and Bruce were talking in the next room. Jason sat on the comfortable sofa with his backpack on his lap, his tail curled tightly against him. He could hear their voices but couldn't make out the words; he only caught the serious tone—mommy’s voice sometimes choked with emotion, while Bruce’s remained steady and calm.

When mommy returned, her eyes were red and her ears were flattened against her head. Yet, she wore a smile—though it looked pained.

She knelt before Jason and took his hands in hers. "Jason, sweetheart, you’re going to spend the summer with Bruce. Just for the summer, okay? I’ll come pick you up when it’s over."

Jason’s ears shot up. "Just for the summer?"

"Just for the summer," mommy repeated, though her tail didn't wag. "Bruce has a big house out of town. He has a son about your age; you’re going to have a wonderful time, I promise."

"But... but what about you?" Jason’s voice was small and fearful, his tail pressed tight against his legs. "If I leave, who’ll make your eggs?"

Tears welled up in mommy’s eyes. She pulled Jason into a hug, and he buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in her scent greedily—the smell of laundry detergent, the medicine she took, and that special scent that was uniquely hers. Her ears rested gently against his—warm and tender.

"I’ll be fine," she whispered. "The doctors will take care of me. You’re going to have the best summer ever, and then I’ll come get you—I promise."

Jason wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe her so badly. But something felt wrong. It felt like a goodbye, even though mommy said it was only for the summer.

He hugged her tighter, his small arms clinging hard, his tail wrapping around her wrist.

"I love you, mommy," he whispered.

"I love you too, sweetheart. So, so much." She kissed the top of his head, right between his ears. “You need to be a good boy and listen to Bruce, okay? Be the sweet, smart kid I know you are.”

Then she was leaving. Jason stood in Bruce’s luxurious apartment with his little red backpack on, watching the door close. His tail was tucked tight—so tight it made his ears ache—and his ears were flattened against his skull.

Bruce’s hand rested gently on his shoulder. “Come on, Jason. Let’s go home.”

Home, Jason thought, but this wasn’t really home. Home was the small apartment he shared with his mommy. This place was just... somewhere else. Just a place to spend the summer.

Just a place to spend the summer.

Wayne Manor was even bigger than Bruce’s city apartment. It was so big that Jason got lost on his very first day and couldn't even find the bathroom. The manor had a million rooms (well, maybe not a million, but certainly a lot), a huge staircase, a garden, and a butler named Alfred who had neatly groomed gray ears and a tail that wagged with perfect precision.

And then there was Dick.

Dick Grayson was seven—a year older than Jason—with messy black hair and a pair of upright dog ears that were constantly moving, always on the alert. His tail seemed to have two modes: wagging rapidly when he was happy, and puffing up stiff and bushy when he was angry.

The first time Jason saw Dick, Dick’s tail was definitely puffed up. Aggressively so.

“This is Dick,” Bruce said, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Dick, this is Jason. He’s going to be spending the summer with us.”

Dick’s ears drooped, and his tail gave an irritated flick. He looked at Jason as if Jason were an uninvited pest that had flown into the house.

“Hi,” Jason said softly, tucking his tail between his legs.

“Hi,” Dick replied, though it didn't sound friendly. It sounded like something Bruce had forced him to say, rather than something he actually wanted to say. Then Dick turned and strode upstairs, his tail held high and straight; Jason felt his own ears droop.

“Give him some time,” Bruce said gently, his tail giving Jason’s back a comforting, light pat. “This is a brand-new experience for him, too.”

But Jason felt a tightness in his chest, and his eyes began to sting. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home, make scrambled eggs with his mommy, and watch cartoons together.

“Come on,” Bruce said. “Let me show you your room.”

This guest room was the biggest one Jason had ever slept in. It featured a huge bed piled with fluffy pillows, a cushioned window seat, a bookshelf filled with books, and a toy chest that Bruce said was packed with toys.

But Jason just stood in the doorway, clutching his backpack tightly, his tail dragging on the floor.

“Is it okay?” Bruce asked, his ears perking up slightly and a look of concern on his face.

“It’s so big,” Jason whispered. Too big. Too clean. Too much stuff. He was used to the small room at home—just a small bed and a little pile of toys in the corner.

“I know everything is different now,” Bruce said, crouching down to meet Jason at eye level. “But I promise, you’re safe here. You can make this room your own. Put whatever you want in here—we can get posters if you like. Or stickers. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

Jason nodded, though his ears remained drooped.

Later that day, Bruce gave Jason a bath. The bathtub at Wayne Manor was huge—big enough to hold three Jasons. Bruce filled it with warm water and bubbles that smelled like the ocean, and he brought out a stuffed elephant from somewhere in the house.

“This is Peanut,” Bruce said, handing the elephant over. “He’s great at keeping people company during bath time.”

Jason looked at Peanut—gray, fuzzy, with floppy ears and a faint smile on his face. He wanted to hold the little elephant—to give it a hug—but...

"I'm too old for toys," Jason said, echoing the way his mother used to turn down help. Grown-ups weren't supposed to need help; they were supposed to handle everything themselves. Jason shook his head, his ears drooping, as Bruce placed the peanut on the edge of the bathtub.

After the bath, Bruce helped Jason into the pajamas his mother had packed—the ones with the stars on them. They were a bit small, with sleeves that were slightly too short, but they smelled like home—like the laundry detergent his mother used.

"Alfred made cookies," Bruce said as he tucked Jason into the big bed. "Want one before you go to sleep?"

Jason shook his head. His throat felt tight; he couldn't eat a thing.

Bruce’s ears drooped. "All right. If you need anything—anything at all—I’m just down the hall. Alfred is downstairs. You aren't alone, okay?"

Jason nodded, yet he still felt lonely. The room was too big and too quiet, the bed too soft; everything felt wrong.

After Bruce left, Jason pulled the covers over his head and let himself cry, his ears pressed flat against his body and his tail curled tightly. He wept softly—just as he used to at home—so his mother wouldn't hear and feel sad.

He didn't know it then, but just a few doors away, Dick was lying in his own bed with drooping ears, feeling angry and confused about this uninvited child.

Jason didn't know that in a few days, everything would change.

He didn't know that Dick would become his best friend and big brother—that he would teach him how to catch frogs, skip stones, and build a treehouse.

That first night, Jason felt scared, lonely, small, and helpless; he desperately wished for the summer to end so he could go home to his mother.

But the summer had only just begun.

The next four days were the longest of Jason's life.

Dick kept avoiding him. Every time Jason walked into a room, Dick would find an excuse to leave. If Jason sat at the breakfast table to eat, Dick would suddenly remember he needed to go back to his room for something. If Jason went to the playroom, Dick would say he actually wanted to go outside and play.

Jason’s ears drooped lower day by day, and his tail barely moved anymore. He spent most of his time in his room, sitting on the windowsill and gazing out at the garden, waiting for the mommyent his mommy would come to pick him up.

Alfred tried everything he could to cheer Jason up. He made Jason’s favorite foods and took him to the library to find good books. He even taught Jason how to help in the kitchen, letting him stir cookie batter with a large wooden spoon.

But Jason could see Alfred’s ears drooping with worry; whenever Jason didn't smile, Alfred’s tail would wag sadly, too.

Bruce tried his best as well. In the evenings, he played board games with Jason; even when Jason barely participated, Bruce would wag his tail encouragingly. He asked Jason what he liked, what he wanted to do, and what might make him feel better.

But Jason didn't know how to answer. His ears would just droop and he would shrug; eventually, Bruce would sigh, his own ears drooping as well.

On the third day, Jason overheard Bruce talking to Alfred in the kitchen.

"I don't know what to do," Bruce said, sounding exhausted. "He’s hardly eating or talking. Dick won't even stay in the same room as him."

"Master Dick is adjusting," Alfred said in his usual calm, composed voice. "Master Jason needs time to get used to life here, too. These things can't be rushed."

Dragging his tail, Jason crept away from the kitchen with a heavy heart. He was making Bruce sad. He was causing trouble. He—

"What are you doing?"

Jason jumped, his ears perking up. Dick was standing in the hallway behind him, arms crossed over his chest, his tail flicking irritably......shook it off.

"I—I wasn't..." Jason’s ears drooped. "I was just..."

"Eavesdropping?" Dick’s tail lifted slightly. "Were you listening to my dad talk?"

"I didn't mean to," Jason said softly, his tail tucked between his legs. "I'm sorry."

Dick stared at him for a long mommyent. Jason waited for Dick to yell at him, or tell Bruce, or say something mean. His ears were pressed flat against his head, almost disappearing into his hair.

But Dick just huffed, tilted his ears back, and walked away without saying a word.

On the fourth day, it rained.

Jason stood by the bedroom window, watching the rain pour down from the gray sky. Back home, whenever it rained, he and his mommy would sit together and make up stories about the raindrops sliding down. mommy called it "Raindrop Racing." They would each pick a raindrop and see which one reached the bottom first.

Jason picked a raindrop now, watching it meander down the glass. "Go," he whispered to the drop, his breath fogging up the windowpane. "You can do it."

His raindrop won. But mommy wasn't there to celebrate with him, and there was no one else to pick a drop for the next race. Jason’s ears drooped, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

He heard a knock at the door.

"Jason?" It was Dick’s voice. "Can... can I come in?"

Jason quickly wiped his eyes with his sleeve, trying not to make his drooping ears too obvious. "Okay."

Dick opened the door. He stood in the doorway, his tail swishing uneasily. He looked at Jason, then out the window, and then back at Jason.

"Rainy days are so boring," Dick said.

"Yeah," Jason agreed softly. “Bruce has gone to work. Alfred is sleeping—something about his bones aching.”

“Okay.”

Dick’s tail gave another restless flick. “Do you... do you like frogs?”

Jason’s ears perked up slightly. “Frogs?”

“Yeah. There’s a big mud puddle behind the garden. When it rains hard, there are tons of frogs there. Really, so many of them.”

“Really?” Jason’s tail gave an involuntary, gentle wag.

“Really.” Dick’s ears pricked forward, as if daring Jason to disagree. “Want to go see?” “We’ll have to sneak out so Alfred doesn’t catch us.”

Jason thought about it. He thought about this huge, unfamiliar manor where he felt like he didn’t belong. He thought about Dick—who hadn’t wanted him here in the first place. He thought about how hard he’d been trying to be good, quiet, and stay out of trouble.

Then he thought about the frogs. Aside from picture books, he’d never seen a real frog before.

“Okay,” Jason said, his tail wagging a bit more vigorously.

Dick’s ears shot up in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected Jason to agree. Then he grinned, and his own tail started to wag.

“Great!” Dick said. “But we have to be really careful.” “Come on!”

And just like that, everything changed.

——

September arrived all too soon.

One day, Bruce asked Jason to sit down in the living room. Dick was there too, his ears perked up curiously. Alfred stood in the doorway, his tail swaying gently.

“Jason,” Bruce said gently, his ears tilted forward kindly. “School starts next week.”

Jason’s ears perked up. “School? But...” His tail began to wag hopefully. “Does that mean summer is over? Is mommy coming to pick me up?”

Bruce’s ears drooped, and his tail went still. “Jason, I need to talk to you about your mommy.”

Jason’s tail stopped wagging, and a chill washed over him. "Your mommy is still very sick," Bruce said gently. "She’s in the hospital and the doctors are treating her, but she needs to stay there for a long time—longer than just the summer."

"How long?" Jason asked in a small voice.

"We don't know yet," Bruce said. "But she asked me to look after you until she gets better. That means you’ll be staying here—going to school here and living here."

"But..." Jason’s ears were pressed flat against his head, and his tail was tucked tight between his legs. "But she said it was just for the summer. She promised it was only for the summer."

Dick’s tail gave a little wag as he shifted closer to Jason on the sofa until their shoulders touched.

"I know," Bruce said, his voice heavy with sadness. "I know that’s what she wanted. She wanted to keep her promise, too. But sometimes, our bodies don't let us do what we want to do. Your mommy is working hard to get better, but she needs time."

"Can I go see her?" Jason asked, his voice trembling.

Bruce’s ears drooped even lower. "Not right now. The hospital says she needs to rest. But she’ll call. She’ll call to check on you. And when the doctors say it’s okay, we’ll go visit her together—I promise."

Jason felt tears welling up. His ears ached from being pressed so flat, and his tail throbbed from being tucked so tightly away.

"Hey," Dick said softly, his tail gently brushing against Jason’s. "It’s okay to stay here. There’s room in my treehouse. Alfred makes really good lunches. And the school here is supposed to be pretty good, too."

"Dick’s right," Bruce said, his tail giving a gentle wag. "Jason, you aren't alone. You have us. We’ll be right here with you for as long as you need us."

Jason nodded; he was afraid that if he spoke, his voice would crack. He wanted to be brave—he didn't want to cry. But he missed his mommy so much it felt like his chest was splitting open.

Dick found his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Somehow, that made him feel a little better.

The first day of school was absolutely awful. Jason had attended preschool back home, but this school was different. It was bigger, with seemingly endless hallways and classrooms packed with children who all knew one another. His ears twitched nervously as he tried to take in all the sounds at once, his tail tucked tight between his legs. That morning, Dick had walked him to the classroom, his own tail wagging confidently. "It’ll be okay," Dick had reassured him.

"Okay," Jason whispered, his ears drooping.

His first-grade classroom was bright and colorful, with the alphabet displayed on the walls and a reading corner filled with soft cushions.

"Welcome, Jason!" the teacher said, her tail wagging. "We’re so glad you’re here. Why don’t you sit here?" She pointed to a desk by the window.

Jason slid into his seat, his backpack heavy on his lap. The other children were already chattering away—ears perked up, tails wagging—talking about their summer vacations. Jason sat quietly, ears drooping, trying to make himself invisible.

The first week of school was tough. It wasn't that the work was too hard; in fact, much of it was similar to preschool, though now there were math problems and a requirement to answer in complete sentences.

But the hardest part was that everyone kept asking him questions.

"Where did you live before?"

"Why did you move here?"

"Where’s your mommy?"

"Why did Mr. Wayne drop you off?"

"Are you Mr. Wayne’s son?"

Jason didn't know how to answer these questions. He would let his ears droop, tuck his tail behind him, mumble something about staying with the Waynes for a while, and then slip away. He found a corner where he could hide behind a book.

Still, he did make friends. At lunch the next day, a boy named Roy Harper—who had fuzzy red ears and a constantly wagging tail—sat next to Jason and shared his fruit snacks. There was also a girl named Artemis, who had pointed gray ears and a witty sense of humor. When another child asked too many prying questions about his mother’s troubles, Artemis stepped in to defend him.

"That’s none of your business," Artemis said, her tail raised protectively.

Jason’s tail gave a grateful wag.

But every day, he wondered: Why hadn't his mommy called? Why hadn't she come to pick him up? Bruce said she was undergoing treatment, but what if she forgot about him? What if she recovered but never came back?

These thoughts made Jason’s ears droop and his tail drag on the ground. But he didn't tell Bruce. Bruce was good to him. He gave him a home, bought him school supplies, and made sure he wanted for nothing. Bruce even took them to the aquarium, the beach, and even Clark’s farm.

Jason knew Bruce wasn't his biological father. Before she got too sick, his mommy had taken him to see Willis once. Willis was locked away in a place with barred windows and guards whose ears stood alert. Willis had looked at Jason through the glass—his own ears drooping in shame—and said, "Kid, you be good. Don't end up like me."

Jason was afraid of Willis—afraid of those drooping ears, that motionless tail, and that place heavy with regret and locked doors.

But Willis was his biological father. Bruce was just... a good man. Someone who might eventually get tired of Jason. Someone who might one day decide Jason was too much trouble.

So Jason tried hard to be a good kid. He tried not to cause trouble. He tried not to mention missing his mommy—what if it made Bruce sad? What if Bruce decided Jason should live somewhere else?

These thoughts made Jason’s chest feel tight and his tail tuck low between his legs.

But he was good at pretending everything was fine.

Halloween arrived in late October, and despite the ache in his heart, Jason couldn't help but feel excited.

Halloween had always been his mommy’s favorite holiday. Back home, even when she was sick, she would struggle out of bed to help Jason put together a costume. They would cobble things together using whatever they could find—cardboard boxes, old sheets, or treasures from thrift stores. One year, Jason dressed as a dragon made entirely of paper bags painted green. Another year, he went as a pirate, wearing an eyepatch his mommy had cut from an old sock.

After trick-or-treating, they would come home, spread all of Jason’s candy out on the floor, and sort it by type. mommy would always give him two pieces before bed and keep one for herself—usually chocolate, since that was her favorite. They would also look at the jack-o'-lantern Jason had made at school; mommy would praise his cleverness and creativity, and tell him how much she loved him.

This year, Jason didn't know what to expect. When Bruce asked what costume he wanted, Jason just shrugged, his ears drooping. "I don't know. Anything."

Bruce tilted his head, looking worried. "There must be something you like. Batman? A dinosaur? A cowboy?"

Jason shrugged again. He just wanted to stay home and make a paper-bag costume with his mommy, but he couldn't say that out loud.

On Halloween Eve, Bruce walked into Jason’s room carrying something. Dick was right beside him, his tail wagging excitedly.

"Jason," Bruce said, "Dick and I have been working on something we wanted to show you."

Bruce and Dick each held up a blue onesie—fuzzy and soft, with dog ears attached to the hood and a tail on the back. Jason perked up his ears in curiosity.

"What is it?"

"It's a Bluey costume!" Dick said, his tail wagging so hard his whole body shook. "You know, Bluey from the cartoon? Bruce is going to be Bandit, I’m going to be Bluey, and you can be Bingo!"

Jason’s ears shot straight up. "Bluey?"

He loved Bluey. Whenever his mommy was in a good mood, they would watch it together at home. The show was about a group of dogs who played games and went on adventures, all while deeply loving one another. Even when everything around him felt cold and frightening, it brought a touch of warmth to Jason’s heart.

Bruce’s tail gave a little wag. "Alfred told me. So we thought..."

Jason lunged at Bruce and wrapped his arms tightly around him; his tail wagged furiously, thumping rhythmically against Bruce’s legs. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Bruce’s arms wrapped warmly and firmly around him, and his tail curled gently around Jason’s own small tail. "You're welcome, buddy."

Halloween night was magical. Alfred was dressed up too; wearing a bow tie, he called himself the "Distinguished Butler Ghost"—though he didn't look like a ghost at all.

They went door-to-door trick-or-treating in the neighborhood near Wayne Manor.

Jason’s bag grew heavier, and his tail wagged harder. Dick held his hand while crossing the street, Bruce carried the bag when it got too heavy, and Alfred walked beside them with a flashlight, making sure they didn't trip.

As night fell, they visited the man Bruce called Commissioner Gordon. Gordon lived in a lovely house; his wife had gentle eyes and a pair of upright beagle ears. Mr. Gordon’s ears were usually serious—pricking up when he saw them—but his tail would wag non-stop whenever he laughed.

"Bruce! Kids!" Mr. Gordon said. "Happy Halloween!"

They went inside, and Mrs. Gordon served them hot apple cider and homemade cookies. Then, Mr. Gordon brought out something that made both Dick and Jason’s ears perk up: brand-new iPads, still in their unopened boxes. "It’s for the kids," Mr. Gordon said, his tail wagging. "The latest model. Perfect for educational games and reading—"

"Jim," Bruce interrupted, his own tail swishing uneasily. "That’s too much."

"Nonsense! They’re good kids."

"Jim."

"Bruce."

They argued politely, both tails wagging stubbornly, until Bruce finally won out; they left without the iPad. Dick’s ears drooped in disappointment, while Jason felt a secret sense of relief. That iPad looked expensive and flashy, and Jason always worried about breaking valuable things.

On the way home, Jason could barely walk. His feet hurt, and his tail dragged on the ground from exhaustion. With every step, his bag of candy banged against his legs.

"Tired, buddy?"

Jason nodded, his ears drooping.

Without a word, Bruce picked Jason up and settled him onto his back. Alfred supported Dick with one hand and carried Dick’s candy bag with the other; they walked all the way home like that, with Jason resting on Bruce’s back, his cheek pressed against Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce helped him spread all the candy out on the living room floor, and Dick joined in. They sorted the treats into piles: chocolates, fruit chews, hard candies, and some odd-looking sweets they couldn't quite identify.

Jason carefully sifted through his pile of chocolates. At the very bottom, he found a beautifully wrapped chocolate bar with a picture of a hazelnut on it.

His ears drooped, and his tail went still.

"Jason?" Bruce asked, noticing the change. "What’s wrong?"

"Can I..." Jason’s voice was quiet. "Can I keep this chocolate? I mean—not eat it?"

"Of course," Bruce said, his ears perking up in curiosity. "But why?"

"I want to hide it under my pillow." Jason held the chocolate carefully. mommy likes hazelnut chocolate. She’s always wanted some, but we couldn't afford it because it...It’s too expensive. So if... if she comes to see me one day, maybe I can give it to her."

Jason looked up at Bruce; Bruce’s ears were drooping, his tail hung stiffly, and his eyes were glistening.

"Jason, do you miss your mommy?" Bruce asked softly.

The question stung Jason’s heart like a needle. Suddenly, he burst into tears—sobbing uncontrollably.

"I miss her so much," Jason said between sobs, his whole body trembling. "Halloween was her favorite holiday. She used to make my costumes, and we’d eat candy together and look at the jack-o'-lantern I brought home from school, and she’d tell me she loved me. I’m happy today—really—but I miss her. I miss her so much. I don’t know why she hasn’t called... has she forgotten about me?"

Bruce pulled Jason into an embrace; Jason buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder, weeping and shaking. With his ears pressed flat against his head and his tail tucked tight, he felt like he was shattering into a million pieces.

"She hasn’t forgotten you," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion. "She could never forget you. She loves you very much, Jason. So, so much."

"Then why doesn't she call?" Jason hiccuped.

Bruce was silent for a mommyent, then said, "I’ll call her right now. Right this second. Do you want to talk to her?"

Jason nodded against Bruce’s shoulder, not daring to speak.

Bruce took out his phone, his tail swaying gently against Jason’s back to offer a measure of comfort. He dialed a number, and after a few rings, someone answered.

"Catherine," Bruce said. "It’s Bruce. Someone really needs to talk to you."

He handed the phone to Jason.

"mommy?" Jason whispered into the phone.

"Baby!" mommy’s voice came through—weak and weary, but real. It was her. "Oh, baby, I miss you so much." ”

“I miss you too,” Jason said, starting to cry again—though these tears were different from the last ones. “Are you okay? Are you feeling any better?”

“I’m trying, sweetheart. The doctors are helping me. But it’s hard, and it takes a long time.” Her voice choked up a little. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call more often. The medication makes me so tired; the doctors say I need to focus on getting better first. But I think about you every day. Every single day, Jason.”

“I saved some hazelnut chocolate for you,” Jason said; despite the tears streaming down his face, his tail gave a gentle wag. “The fancy kind.”

mommy laughed, though there was a hint of tears in the sound. “You saved it for me? That’s sweet. We’ll share it when I’m better.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart. I love you so much. Be good to Bruce, okay? He’s a good man—one of the best people I know.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

“Happy Halloween, sweetheart.”

“Happy Halloween.”

After Jason hung up, Bruce held him for a long time, rocking him gently as Jason wept. Dick came over and sat beside them, curling his tail around Jason’s; he didn’t say a word, just stayed there quietly.

Finally, as Jason’s tears began to subside, Bruce said something that made Jason prick up his ears in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said softly.

“For what?” Jason asked, his voice muffled against Bruce’s shirt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I should have let you talk to your mommy sooner. I should have realized how much you needed to hear her voice. I’m sorry.”

Jason stepped back and looked at Bruce’s face. Bruce’s ears were drooping and his tail hung low; he looked truly sad.

“You aren’t mad at me?” Jason asked tentatively. “For crying and missing my mommy?”

Bruce’s ears shot up. “Mad at you? Jason, no. Why would I be mad at you?” ”

“Because...” Jason’s ears drooped again. “Because I’m a burden. Because I’m here and you have to look after me, and I’m always sad—what if you get tired of me?”

Bruce understood in a flash. His tail wrapped warmly and firmly around Jason.

“Jason, listen to me,” Bruce said, his tone firm yet gentle. “You aren’t a burden. You’re just a little boy who misses his mommy—that’s completely normal, and it’s perfectly okay. It’s okay to be sad, to cry, and to miss her. I will never, ever get tired of you.”

“Really?” Jason’s tail gave a soft, hopeful wag.

“Really,” Bruce said, his ears perking up and his voice sincere. “You’re part of our family now; we’ll be here for you as long as you need us. Maybe just until your mommy recovers, or maybe longer. But either way, you belong here. Dick thinks so, too.”

“Of course,” Dick agreed, wagging his tail. “You’re my little brother now, and that’s never going to change.”

Jason’s gaze shifted back and forth between Bruce and Dick. Looking at their honest faces, their wagging tails, and their alert, upright ears, the tight knot in his chest finally loosened.

“Okay,” he said softly.

That night, Jason placed the hazelnut chocolate under his pillow, just as planned. But when he climbed into bed, he wasn’t alone. Dick climbed in beside him—just as he had on most nights lately—and their tails intertwined beneath the covers. “Dick?” Jason said into the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being my big brother.”

Dick’s tail gave his a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for being my little brother.” ”

——

The days following Halloween were very peaceful.

School, homework, playtime, dinner, and bed. Sometimes, Bruce would read to them before sleep—adventure stories that made them prick up their ears in excitement, or funny tales that made them laugh until their tails wagged non-stop.

Jason found that he actually quite liked first grade, even though it could be tough at times. Math was hard—so many numbers to add and subtract; he would count on his fingers, his tail wagging intently as he concentrated. Grammar gave him a headache, too; why did the same letters sound different in different words? His ears would droop and he’d stomp his feet in frustration whenever he had to spell words like "though," "through," and "thought."

Science class, however, was the best. They got to build things. Last week, they made mini-volcanoes out of clay and used baking soda and vinegar to make them "erupt." Jason’s volcano erupted so vigorously that the mixture spilled all over the table, but instead of getting angry, the teacher just laughed heartily.

"Jason, your volcano’s eruption was spectacular!" she said, and Jason’s tail wagged proudly.

They also got to play with the clay, molding it into all sorts of shapes. Jason made a little dog; he brought it home to Alfred, who placed it on the kitchen windowsill where everyone could see it.

One day in November, Bruce brought home a surprise.

"I’ve got something for us," he announced excitedly at dinner, his tail wagging rapidly. "A family project."

He pulled out a huge box—a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle featuring a sunset over a lake, with rolling mountains in the distance.

Dick’s ears perked up. "Five hundred pieces?"

"Five hundred pieces," Bruce confirmed. "I thought we could put it together as a team. Do a little bit every night."

Jason had never done a puzzle that big before.

"Is that too many?" he asked.

"Not if we do it together," Bruce said encouragingly, his tail wagging. "Come on, let’s give it a try." ”

They spread the puzzle out on the large table in the living room. First, they had to flip all the pieces over—a task that took a long time. Jason focused intently on flipping the pieces, his tail wagging as he worked. Dick busied himself searching for the edge pieces, while Bruce sorted them by color.

“Alright,” Bruce said once everything was organized. “Who wants to start on the border?”

They worked on the puzzle together every evening after dinner. Some pieces fit together easily, sliding into place with a satisfying click that made everyone’s tails wag. Others looked like they should fit but simply wouldn't—causing Dick’s ears to droop in frustration and Jason’s tail to sag in disappointment.

The puzzle was so hard. Really hard. Two weeks passed, and they had only managed to complete the border and a small patch of blue sky. The rest remained a jumbled mess of similarly shaped pieces.

“It’s impossible,” Dick said one night, his ears drooping as he tried—and failed—to fit a piece into the mountain section.

“Not impossible,” Bruce said, though his tail gave a skeptical wag. “Just... challenging.”

Jason picked up a piece that looked like it belonged to the lake—a deep blue with a hint of purple. He tried fitting it into five different spots. None of them worked.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Bruce suggested. “We can pick it up again tomorrow.”

But about a week later, a miracle happened. Bruce, his tail wagging excitedly, called them over to the puzzle; while they had been at school, he had finished the entire mountain section.

“You did it!” Dick’s ears perked up, and his tail wagged so fast it was a blur.

“How?” Jason asked, his own tail wagging in amazement.

“Patience,” Bruce said, looking proud, his ears standing tall and alert. “And a lot of trial and error.” "But now that the mountain part is done, the rest should be much easier."

He was right. Once the mountain section was finished, they could figure out where the lake and sunset pieces belonged. The puzzle slowly, slowly came together.

When they finally placed the last piece—a small bit of the orange sunset—all three of them cheered.

"We did it!" Jason shouted, feeling so proud he thought he might burst.

"See?" Bruce said. "Some things take time, but they’re worth it."

—

And then there were the books.

Bruce had a vast collection at Wayne Manor, and Alfred seemed determined to have Jason read every single picture book in it. Jason found himself eagerly looking forward to coming home from school; he would trot to the library, tail wagging, to see what book Alfred had set out for him on the special cushion prepared just for him.

There was Where the Wild Things Are(Jason liked the wild creatures in it, though they were a bit scary). There was The Very Hungry Caterpillar (which came with a plush caterpillar toy; Dick told him they had the whole set at home).

But his favorite was Guess How Much I Love You.

It was a story about a little rabbit trying to tell his dad just how much he loved him. The little rabbit would stretch out his arms and say, "I love you this much!" and the big rabbit would stretch out his arms and say, "But I love you this much!"

Jason read the book over and over again. Sometimes Dick would read it with him, using funny voices for the rabbits that made Jason laugh out loud and wag his tail furiously. Sometimes Bruce would read it at bedtime; Jason would stretch out his arms just like the little rabbit in the book, and Bruce would stretch his arms out even wider.

One night, after Bruce finished reading, Jason looked up at him with a serious expression, his ears tilted to the side.

"How much do you love me?" "Jason asked.

Bruce’s ears perked up in surprise. Then his expression softened, and his tail gave a gentle wag. 'I love you to the moon and back,' he said, just like the big rabbit in the book. 'And all the way to the stars and back again—that’s how much I love you.'

Jason’s tail wagged vigorously under the covers; Dick mumbled in his sleep and gave it a pat.

'I love you too,' Jason whispered. 'Maybe not as much as mommy, but I love you very much.'

'That’s right,' Bruce said, sounding not the least bit sad. 'mommy is mommy, but there’s plenty of room in your heart for lots of people, too.'

After Bruce left, Jason kept thinking about that. These days, his heart really did feel bigger. Big enough to hold mommy, even though she was far away. Big enough for Bruce, who told him stories and took him to the aquarium. Big enough for Dick, the best big brother in the world. Big enough for Alfred, who baked him cookies and packed his lunches. Big enough for Roy, Artemis, and even Krypto—the puppy from Clark’s farm.

His heart was growing so big that sometimes Jason worried it might pop right out of his chest. But it was a good kind of worry—a warm kind of worry.

—

In early December, Mrs. Pat announced that they would be having a 'Show and Tell' activity.

'Next Friday,' she said, 'everyone needs to bring something special from home to show the class. It can be anything—a toy, a book, something you made, or something you found. You’ll tell us the story behind it and why it’s special to you.'" ”

Jason’s ears immediately drooped, and a look of worry washed over his face. What could he possibly bring?

Back home, he didn’t really have anything special—just a few toy cars missing their wheels, some library books, and a few drawings he’d made himself. But here, at Wayne Manor, there were so many things. The puzzles they’d put together—masterpieces of five hundred pieces that they’d worked so hard to complete. But how could he take those to school? They’d surely get broken.

Maybe he could bring a stuffed animal. They had the whole The Very Hungry Caterpillar set. But what if someone snatched it away? What if it got dirty or lost?

He fretted about it all week, until finally, on Thursday night, he turned to Bruce for help.

“I don’t know what to bring,” Jason confessed, sitting at the dining table with his ears drooping almost against his shoulders. “The stuff from my old place is too worn out, and the things here are too nice—I’m afraid I’ll break or lose them.”

Bruce gave his tail a thoughtful wag. “How about Peanut?”

Jason’s ears perked up. “Peanut?”

“That elephant,” Dick said, wagging his tail. “He used to be mine, but Bruce gave him to you on your first day—remember?”

Jason certainly remembered. He had said he was too old for toys, but Bruce had placed Peanut by the bathtub anyway. And so, day by day, Peanut had migrated from the bathroom shelf to Jason’s bedroom. Now, Peanut spent every day resting on Jason’s pillow, keeping the bed warm until Jason came home from school.

“But he used to be yours,” Jason said to Dick, his ears tilted slightly in uncertainty. “Wouldn’t you be upset if something happened to him?”

Dick wagged his tail and grinned. “Not at all. He’s yours now. Besides, like I told you—Peanut is a very smart elephant. He’s been on plenty of adventures. This is just another one.” ”

“You know what?” Bruce added, his own tail starting to wag. “There’s a story about Peanut, too. He’s not just an elephant. He’s a pirate elephant.”

Jason’s ears perked up. “A pirate?”

“Definitely a pirate,” Dick said confidently, his eyes sparkling. “You see, Peanut is the captain of the Squeaky-Tooth the most feared pirate ship in the Bathtub Seas. He sails from bubble island to bubble island, searching for the legendary Golden Rubber Duck.”

“Did he find it?” Jason asked, his tail beginning to wag.

“"Not yet," Dick said seriously. "He’s still searching. But he’s had plenty of adventures along the way." He had wrestled a fearsome towel sea monster, narrowly escaped a whirlpool in the bathtub drain, and even discovered the lost city of Shampoo-lantis beneath the soap bubbles.

Jason giggled, his tail wagging faster. "Shampoo-lantis?"

"It’s a very important city," Bruce said with a straight face, though his own tail was wagging with amusement. "It’s famous for its towers made of shampoo bottles and streets paved with bath salts."

That night, Jason carefully packed Peanuts into his backpack, making sure to cushion him with his coat so he wouldn't get squashed. He also brought along something else—a family portrait he had drawn. The picture featured stick figures with dog ears and tails: a tall one labeled "Bruce," a medium-sized one labeled "Dick," a small one labeled "Jason," and another tall one labeled "Alfred." mommy wasn't in the picture because she didn't live at Wayne Manor, but Jason had included her; there was a small photo of her in the corner, with a heart drawn next to it and an arrow pointing toward Jason’s stick figure.

On Friday, it was Jason’s turn for "Show and Tell" right after lunch. He was so nervous he had butterflies in his stomach, and his tail kept wagging restlessly. His ears kept swiveling toward the door, as if he could just run away and avoid the whole thing.

But then he thought of Peanuts the pirate elephant and the adventure stories Dick had made up, and he felt a little braver.

He walked to the front of the classroom, his tail held high, and pulled Peanuts out of his backpack.

"This is Peanuts," Jason said softly, his voice steady and firm. His ears perked up, and he was fully focused. "He’s a pirate elephant. He’s been on many adventures searching for the Golden Rubber Duck." "He’s wrestled a towel sea monster, visited Shampoolantis, and..." Jason’s tail began to wag. "He’s my best friend. Well, one of my best friends. I have a lot of good friends now."

"Bruce gave him to me when I first came to Wayne Manor," Jason continued. "He used to belong to Dick, but now he’s mine. Dick said that was okay, because Peanut needed a new captain to start his adventures."

Some of the children giggled at the pirate story. Jason’s ears drooped slightly—were they laughing at him?

Just then, Roy raised his hand, wagging his red tail. "Can Peanut have a first mate? I have a stuffed bear that could be his first mate."

"I have a toy parrot!" another child shouted, ears perking up with excitement. "Pirates always have parrots!"

"Peanut would definitely love a parrot," Jason said, his tail wagging so fast that his whole body wiggled along with it.

The teacher smiled, her ears perking forward warmly. "Thank you for sharing, Jason. Peanut sounds like a very brave elephant."

"He really is brave," Jason said proudly, hugging Peanut to his chest as he walked back to his seat.

That weekend, when Jason told Bruce and Dick about the "Show and Tell" activity, both of them wagged their tails proudly.

"See?" Dick said, ruffling the fur between Jason’s ears. "I told you Peanut was a good choice."

"The best choice," Jason agreed, wagging his tail.

That night, as Jason placed Peanut back on his pillow, he whispered, "Thanks for being brave with me today, Peanut. You’re a great pirate."

Peanut, of course, didn't answer, because he was a stuffed elephant. But Jason’s tail wagged anyway, because he was certain that if Peanut could speak, he would say, "Captain Jason, you’re brave too."

——

December flew by in a flurry of busy preparations.

Alfred enlisted the two boys to help with the Christmas baking. The kitchen instantly turned into a battlefield of flour, sugar, eggs, and butter. Jason learned how to cream the butter and sugar together; his arms grew sore from all the mixing, yet his tail wagged steadfastly. Dick was in charge of cutting out the cookie shapes; he took the job very seriously, his ears standing straight up as he focused intently on pressing the cutters into the rolled-out dough.

"You two are covered in flour," Alfred remarked one afternoon, his gray tail wagging with amusement. "From head to toe. I really don't know how flour managed to get inside Master Jason's ears, but somehow, it did."

Jason giggled and shook his head, sending a small puff of flour into the air. His tail gave a wag, knocking loose the flour that had gathered on the edge of the counter.

They made iced cookies, gingerbread, and something Alfred called "Christmas Shortbread"—rich with butter and perfectly textured. They decorated the cookies with icing, but it ended up everywhere: on their hands, their faces, and—somehow—all over Dick’s tail.

Bruce helped them write Christmas cards. So many Christmas cards.

"Who are all these people?" Jason asked, his ears perking up curiously as Bruce brought out a large stack of cards and envelopes.

"Friends," Bruce said, his tail wagging as he sorted through the addresses. "Some live far away. Clark—you remember him from the farm. Lucius, a colleague of mine. Diana, who’s back in England. Some colleagues in Hong Kong. And Alfred’s family in England."

Dick taught Jason how to carefully write messages on the cards: "Merry Christmas," "Happy Holidays," and "Season's Greetings." Jason’s handwriting was wobbly—big, thick strokes that sometimes slanted to the side—but Bruce said it was good enough.

They addressed the envelopes together, with Jason carefully copying down the addresses Bruce had written: England, Hong Kong, Metropolis, Star City. Jason had never been to these places, and he had never met the people who lived there, yet they were important to Bruce.

One afternoon, Alfred asked the boys to help pick out a Christmas tree.

They drove to a tree farm outside the city, where rows of evergreens stood silently, waiting to be chosen. The air smelled of pine and cold, and Jason’s breath puffed out in white clouds. He pricked up his ears, listening to the unfamiliar sounds around him—the laughter of other families, the distant buzz of a chainsaw, and the Christmas music playing from the speakers.

“This is the one!” Dick shouted, running toward a tree that was at least ten feet tall. His tail wagged excitedly. “This is the one!”

“Master Dick,” Alfred said patiently, “that tree is nearly twice as tall as Master Bruce. Where do you suppose we would put it?”

Dick’s ears drooped. “Oh, right.”

They walked through the rows of trees as Alfred carefully inspected each one. Too short. Too sparse. Too crooked. Too wide. Jason wondered if they would ever find a suitable tree.

Then, Jason saw it. A tree just a little taller than Bruce, lush and green, with branches that looked perfect for hanging ornaments. He wagged his tail excitedly.

“How about this one?” he asked softly, a note of hope in his voice.

Alfred examined the tree closely, walking all the way around it; his own tail swayed as he seemed to give it serious thought. “The height is just right. The foliage is lush. The shape is elegant. Master Jason, I believe you’ve found the tree we were looking for.”

Jason’s tail wagged so hard it felt like it might fly right off. Dick high-fived him, and both their ears perked up in excitement.

After they brought the tree home and Alfred set it up in the living room, it started to snow.

Real snow! Jason had seen snow before back at his old apartment, but he’d never been allowed to play in it. mommy always said it was too cold, too wet, and too dangerous. But the mommyent the first snowflake drifted down, Dick grabbed Jason’s hand, his tail wagging furiously.

“Come on! We have to go play!”

They bundled up in thick coats, scarves, and gloves—ears poking out from their hats—and ran into the silvery wonderland. The lawn was already blanketed in snow: soft, glittering, and pristine.

Jason had never experienced anything like it. Snowflakes landed on his nose, feeling cool and ticklish. They clung to his fur, his ears, and his tail. Everything was pure white and magical.

“Look at this!” Dick shouted, then fell backward into the snow, waving his arms and legs. When he stood up, a perfect snow angel shape remained on the ground. “Your turn!”

Jason flopped down next to Dick’s snow angel, spreading his arms and legs wide. The snow pressed against his back, icy and sharp, while his tail left a trail in the drifts.

They made snow angels until the entire lawn was covered. Then, they built a snowman. It was lumpy and lopsided, with twig arms and stone eyes, but it was *their* snowman. Dick’s ears were shivering from the cold, and Jason’s tail was wet and heavy, dragging through the snow, yet neither of them wanted to go inside.

Then Alfred called out, “Young Masters! Come inside, or you’ll freeze!” His voice rang out across the white lawn. They tracked snow into the hallway (Alfred’s tail wagged in mock disapproval, though his ears perked up, betraying his fondness). Shivering and giggling, they stripped off their wet coats and gloves while water dripped from their tails onto the floor.

“Hot chocolate,” Alfred announced, and both boys’ ears immediately perked up.

In the living room, they snuggled up beside the undecorated Christmas tree, wrapped in blankets and sipping hot chocolate—their tails finally dry. The hot chocolate was delicious—warm and sweet, topped with melting marshmallows.

—

A week before Christmas, mommy called.

Jason hadn’t spoken to her since Halloween; Bruce had said she wasn’t doing well lately—the medication was so strong she couldn't even hold a phone—so he would record Jason’s messages and send them to her. Bruce must have told her Jason missed her, because one night the phone rang, and Bruce handed it to Jason with a gentle smile.

“mommy?” Jason’s voice was small but hopeful, his ears perking up.

“Hi, baby,” mommy said; her voice was weak, but it was definitely her. “Bruce told me you missed me.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, his tail beginning to wag. “I miss you so much. How are you? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m trying, baby. Some days are better, some are harder. But I think about you every day.” She paused. “Bruce said you’re doing really well at school. You’ve made friends, and you’re happy.”

“Yeah,” Jason said—and it was true. His tail wagged even harder. “School is great. I have friends, and Dick is the best big brother. Alfred lets me help bake cookies. Bruce tells me stories every night.”

“That’s wonderful, baby. I’m so glad you’re happy there.” mommy’s voice grew thick with emotion.

“mommy, I want you to be happy, too.”

“My sweet boy.” mommy sighed, and Jason could hear just how exhausted she was. “I need to get some rest now, sweetheart. But I love you. I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

——

Christmas Eve was busy, wonderful, and chaotic.

They spent the morning decorating the Christmas tree. Alfred brought out box after box of ornaments: some were glittering spheres in red, gold, and silver; some were handmade decorations Dick had crafted as a child; and others were delicate crystal pieces that Alfred warned them to handle with care.

Jason stood on tiptoe to hang ornaments on the lower branches, his tail wagging incessantly with every one he placed. Dick handled the middle branches, while Bruce lifted them up one by one to hang ornaments on the very top.

“This is the best Christmas tree I’ve ever seen!” Dick said, his tail wagging.

“Definitely the best!” Jason agreed.

That evening, they attended what Bruce called a “Christmas Eve service.” It was held in a building with tall windows, and many people had come with their families. Jason sat between Bruce and Dick, his tail tucked neatly between them, his ears swiveling to catch the music. The music was beautiful, even if he didn’t understand all the lyrics. Candles at the far end cast a warm, golden glow over everything, and as they sang together, the tightness in Jason’s chest eased just a little.

Christmas morning began with opening presents.

Jason hadn’t expected to receive any gifts. Back home, his mommy usually only got him one small present. A coloring book, a little toy from a thrift store, or—one time—a pair of shoes he desperately needed. That was it. They could only afford one gift.

But at Wayne Manor, there were gifts. So many gifts. They were wrapped in shiny paper, tied with bows, and arranged beneath the Christmas tree.

Some were labeled for Dick. Some for Bruce. Some for Alfred.

And some—quite a few—were labeled for Jason. His ears perked up in surprise, his tail wagging furiously, making his whole body wiggle along with it.

"For me?" he asked in disbelief, his voice barely a whisper.

"For you," Bruce confirmed, his own tail wagging happily as he watched Jason’s reaction.

Jason got a new coat. He received a stack of books—including a hardcover edition of *Guess How Much I Love You* that was all his to keep forever. He also got a pirate-ship Lego set, a new pair of pajamas, and an art kit in a special carrying case.

But the final gift was the smallest: a flat, rectangular box wrapped in gold paper.

Jason carefully opened the box, his tail wagging with curiosity. Inside was a picture frame holding... a photograph.

It was a photo from Halloween. But in the corner of the frame, another small photo had been carefully taped on: a picture of his mommy—radiant and beautiful—from before she got sick.

"So you can see her too," Bruce said softly.

Jason’s eyes welled up, and his tail wagged so hard it almost hurt. He clutched the frame tightly to his chest.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The Christmas dinner was a magnificent feast. Alfred had been preparing since dawn: turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, three kinds of vegetables, dinner rolls so fluffy they seemed ready to float away, and two types of pie for dessert. The table groaned under the weight of the food, and everyone’s tails wagged as they ate.

Jason ate until his belly was so full he could barely move. His tail wagged contentedly and his ears drooped; he was happily, blissfully exhausted.

After dinner, while they were watching a Christmas movie about a snowman that came to life, the doorbell rang.

Bruce went to answer it, and Jason heard voices at the door. Then Bruce called out, "Jason? Someone’s here to see you."

Jason’s ears shot up. His tail began to wag hopefully—could it be...? With his heart racing, he ran to the doorway—and there she was.

mommy.

She looked different. Her hair was gone, covered by a soft cap. She had lost a lot of weight, and her clothes hung loosely on her frame. Her ears drooped wearily, and her tail was barely moving. Yet, there was a smile on her face, and she carried that familiar scent of "mommy."

"mommy!" Jason rushed into her arms, hugging her waist tightly, his tail wagging......trembling violently all over. "You came! You really came!"

"Hi, sweetheart," mommy’s voice was weak but sincere. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his hair and breathing in his scent deeply. "Merry Christmas, my darling."

"I thought you wouldn't be able to make it," Jason whispered against her shirt.

"But how could I miss spending Christmas with you? The doctor said I could come for a few hours, as long as I didn't overexert myself."

They walked into the living room, where Dick and Alfred watched them with smiles. mommy sat on the sofa, and Jason immediately climbed up beside her, his tail curling around her arm and his head resting on her shoulder. He didn't want to let go for even a mommyent.

They watched the rest of the Christmas movies together. mommy didn't eat much; she explained that her stomach couldn't handle very much food. She only nibbled on a small dinner roll and a tiny piece of pie. Her tail rested against Jason’s—warm and familiar.

It was late by the time the movies ended. The little boys were tired; their ears drooped, and their tails moved more slowly.

Jason hugged his mommy tightly once more—a long, warm embrace that seemed to say everything words could not. His tail entwined with hers as he took a deep breath, greedily inhaling her scent and committing it to memory, to hold onto for all the nights when she wouldn't be there.

"mommy, I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too, sweetheart. To the moon all the way to the stars and the sea and back."