Chapter Text
Bruce knew he hadn’t been the best father. The unsurprising lack of ‘best father ever’ mugs in the kitchen cabinets reminded him every morning. This recurrent disappointment, the long sighs, the lingering stares, the unsent texts that he spent hours looking at knowing it was far too late to reach out.
Hell, sometimes his children even told them when they had enough of him.
But Bruce was trying.
He always tried.
He knew that his kids appreciated that about him, but he got the nagging feeling that they were always waiting for him to mess up or regress in some manner. And Bruce felt a pit open in his stomach at that feeling, because something in the back of his head told him they were right. He would always mess up. He was bound to mess up and never be happy.
It was a good thing he wasn’t doing any of this for himself.
He was as flawed as the city he protected.
But recently, an event occurred.
He stared down at his phone, ‘hnn’ing to himself with barely concealed worry.
45 missed calls.
57 unread messages.
And a boatload of voicemails that went unheard.
Jason had gone missing.
Bruce was no stranger to Jason going ghost. He’d usually figure out where Jason was via Red Hood whereabouts. Whether it be from word of mouth or on the news or his own snooping. But recently, within the last three weeks, almost a month, there’s been a concerning lack of Red Hood and Jason.
Crime wasn’t back up at all. It looked like Jason made sure his men kept everything intact for his absence. So, this was a purposeful disappearance on his end. But that wasn’t what raised a red flag for Bruce.
It was the fact no one he called would tell him where Jason was or what he was doing.
He was met with a long laugh and an ominous, “I promise he’s okay.” When he called Roy.
Barbara absolutely knew where he was and locked Bruce out of her systems in case he was feeling ‘feeling froggy’. She, too, insisted that Jason was fine.
That didn’t ease Bruce’s worry.
His final straw was when he contacted Talia, hoping to get an answer from the woman. And of course, he was met with a sultry laugh. A laugh that told him she already had answers and was giddy that she knew something he didn’t. “Perhaps if you respected his boundaries less, you’d find him.” Was all she said.
So he donned the cowl and swooped into one of Red Hood’s main hideouts, unflinching at the numerous guns that were aimed at his person when he came through the open window.
“Shit, what’s the Bat doing here?!” One masked man asked, obviously surprised by the bat’s sudden appearance.
“You know this is Red’s territory! Fuck off!”
“Cmon, Bats, we’d rather not waste the bullets.”
Batman only narrowed his gaze at the armed men, “Where’s Red Hood?”
There was a chill in the air now.
The question had a strange effect on the men. Not all of them, just a select few in the room. Like of all the questions they were expecting, they weren’t expecting that question to leave Batman’s mouth.
They knew something. At least three of the men in this room knew something.
He could tell that two of them were nervous. That was good. That meant they might be more willing to give up information depending on how he continued.
He started off lax. Still firm and intimidating, but not unapproachable. “I’ve been trying to get in contact. I need to know where he is.”
A few guns were lowered. Some were looking at each other, clearly apprehensive despite the masks covering their faces.
They knew something he didn’t.
“Where is Red Hood?” He asked again.
The main goon, sporting a red ski mask, lowered his gun all the way with a deep sigh, “Look, man, it's not our business to tell. If you got business with Red, then you’ll have to talk to me. I’m the one he left in charge here.”
Strange. It was strange.
Why the sudden secrecy?
“Is he still in Gotham?”
Main Goon regarded him for a moment, putting a hand on his hip, “I know you and Red work together often. If he ain’t told you where he is, maybe there’s good reason for that.”
Bruce frowned beneath the cowl. Yes, he knew how this looked from an outsider’s perspective. But this man was being irritatingly bold with his wiser-than-thou stance. How dare he act like he knows anything about his relationship with Jason?
“Plus,” Main Goon continued, much to Bruce’s displeasure, “He’s a grown ass man.” He said that like Bruce hadn’t noticed. Little did he know, Bruce was painfully aware of that. “And you’re old.” Now Batman was scowling. He didn’t come here to be disrespected by a high-level criminal. “Let that man live his life. You aren’t his father.”
It was like an echo chamber. The other goons nodded and voiced their agreeances.
That was Batman’s cue to leave. He wouldn’t be getting the answers he needed here. He turned back towards the window he came in through, stepped on the windowsill and jumped out to the city.
“Bye, Bats!” They said, as if he were some old friend they’d ran into.
Bruce tried not to stoop low. He was a man of integrity. Someone that held themselves to a certain degree with strict discipline. If he wanted something, he’d do it the right way when applicable.
And unfortunately, if he wanted to figure out where Jason was, he was going to have to knock that pedestal down.
Bruce had done more digging. In the past three weeks, Alfred’s usual budget for groceries and general cleaning supplies had gone up. Bruce had personally checked the kitchen and the supplies closet to find nothing extra. So, the extra food and supplies were going somewhere else.
Not only that, but Alfred’s gas and mileage had increased as well. He was travelling further than usual.
And something told Bruce that wherever Alfred was going was where Jason was.
It was a beautiful Sunday. The day of rest.
Alfred always left early in the day. Today, he wore a pair of ironed khaki pants, his polished Berlutis, and a navy blue zip-up with a white collared shirt underneath. Fashionable, even on his days off. The older man bid his goodbyes to whoever was present in the manor, sported his favored flat cap and drove off in his Rolls-Royce Sweptail.
Bruce watched him leave from his office window. He brought a hand to his earpiece, “Ok, Duke, he’s left. Are you in position?”
The teen’s voice came through the earpiece, “Bruce, this is fucking crazy.”
“Are you in position?”
“Yes, I'm at the store already.” Duke snapped, clicking his tongue, “I’m all for doing crazy shit for the plot, but you’re doing the most. Why can’t you just wait until Jason comes back from wherever he is?”
It was a good question. Everyone that knew of Jason’s whereabouts didn’t seem worried in the slightest.
But uncertainty wasn’t something that Bruce could roll with. Or at least, that's what Bruce was telling himself.
“I need to be certain that he’s safe.”
“Right. And that’s why you’re making me follow your father on his rare day off? Breaking multiple boundaries that will likely alter your current relationships? Because those are already so strong.”
“Hn.” Bruce growled. “I’ll give you another grand to be quiet until Alfred leaves the grocery store.” Of course, nothing came for free. Since Bruce wouldn’t be able to follow Alfred without being found out, he had to pay Duke to do it, being the only vigilante with the ability to turn invisible.
Did the teen already have damn near total access to his money despite not being his child? Yes. Would Bruce buy anything that Duke asked for? Yes. But, a good chunk of the money that Bruce had stored for him wouldn’t be able to be touched by Duke until he was 24, so he still had a few years until it was his to do whatever he wanted with.
The money that Duke was earning from this escapade was pocket money. So far, he was at $15,000.
“Five.” Duke countered.
“Deal.”
$20,000.
Bruce was kept up to speed about Alfred’s whereabouts. Once the older man left the store, with a few bags of unknown supplies, he was down the busy highway.
Duke stayed invisible the whole time, tailing him by jumping from car to car. Anytime he ran a bit behind, he’d use the tracker that Bruce placed on Alfred’s car.
Alfred took an exit off a smaller city about an hour out from Bristol and soon enough, he was turning into an apartment complex.
“He turned into an apartment complex.” Duke reported. “The Crescent?” Duke read out, a silent question for Bruce to see if the name rang any bells.
“I don’t recognize that name.” Bruce answered.
Alfred parked in front of a two story building with the number two on the front. He stepped out, taking the bags with him and walked to one of the doors on the first floor.
Duke shrugged when Bruce asked if he’d seen anyone, “No. It’ll be another five grand if you want me to use my x-ray vision because I don’t know what I’m about to see.” And he’ll be damned if he sees his grandfather-figure having relations, even if it would just look like two skeletons.
“It’s yours.” Bruce said.
It went silent for a long, long time after that.
No matter how much Bruce asked Duke to give a report, he was ignored.
It was to the point that Bruce thought something had gone terribly wrong. He pressed the earpiece again, “Duke, report, are you okay?”
Finally, Duke responded. “Yeah… uh… I’m gonna go back to Gotham now.” Before Bruce could bribe him with more money, Duke stopped him, “You can keep the money. I’m not getting killed by Jason for $25,000.”
Bruce blinked, “So, he was there.” The only response Bruce got was a quiet curse and Duke muting his mic, no longer responding to Bruce. His tracker showed the older man that he was hightailing it back to Gotham.
No matter.
Bruce had a lead now.
He felt slimy.
Bruce felt undeniably slimy.
He was standing in front of a dark brown door labeled ‘2A’. The apartment that he knew Jason was in. His hand was awkwardly in the air, ready to knock, but everything was telling him to go back home.
Jason was fine. Alfred was checking on him regularly on his days off, Barbara and Roy knew that he was here. Even Talia knew that he was here. But the fact that Jason was hiding something and getting help from everyone else to keep certain people out of the loop, ignited something in Bruce.
The word was jealousy, but Bruce called it worry.
Before he could second guess himself, Bruce forced himself to raise his hand and knocked on the apartment door.
“Hold on!” He heard Jason grunt.
It felt amazing to hear his voice. He sounded so… at ease. He always sounded constipated when he spoke with Bruce. Like he had to force himself to speak or he’d break Bruce’s neck. This was a nice change, despite what Bruce was doing.
Bruce waited, hands behind his back as he heard Jason move within the apartment. The sound of something falling reached his ears and he heard the younger man curse out in a mix of pain and annoyance.
More movement and then the door was opening and Bruce’s mouth went agape, greeting stuck in his throat, as his eyes immediately landed on a head of wispy, dark hair, a pink onesie and a bobbing green pacifier, resting in the crook of a familiar, muscular arm.
“Uh.” Was the only sound that left the billionaire’s mouth as he stared at the infant cradled in his son’s buff arms, dumbfounded and feeling completely out of his element.
Because why on God’s green earth was Jason holding a baby that looked no older than two months old?
But it seemed that wasn’t all, because of course that wasn’t all. An unfamiliar sound came from below Jason’s waist and Bruce, merely reacting to the new sound, found himself looking down towards Jason’s feet.
A small brown hand was the first thing he saw. Chubby, likely sticky, and clinging onto Jason’s pants. Then big brown eyes and a red satin bonnet protecting what was likely a full head of coily hair.
The kid’s mouth went slightly agape as they took in Bruce’s stature, looking him up and down before they pointed, “Daddy, who is that?”
Bruce felt his heart stop at the word ‘daddy’.
These were Jason’s kids?
Bruce finally looked back at Jason. A million questions ready to fire at the tip of his tongue.
Jason never took his eyes off Bruce. The surprise he had initially was gone now, replaced with restrained rage as he gritted his teeth. He groaned, long and hard, running a hand down his face. “No one-“
“I’m your Grandpa.” Bruce answered for Jason, pointedly ignoring Jason’s bewildered stare as he smiled down at the child. “Who are you?” He crouched to her level.
“Don’t answer that.” Jason snapped, trying to push the young girl back with his leg.
She easily intercepted the movement, going in between his legs and standing in front of him. “Amira.” The young girl told Bruce. “I’m four years old!” She held up four fingers in case Bruce needed the visual.
Jason huffed out a short laugh of disbelief, staring down at the small child, “What did I say about talking to strangers?” He scolded, pointing back into the apartment, “Get back inside.”
“Ok~!” She sang out. “Bye, Grandpa!” She skipped away and Bruce barely got to say goodbye in return because Jason stepped out and shut the door behind him.
“You-“ He jabbed a finger into Bruce’s chest when the older man stood back up, “-need to get the fuck out of here. I don’t know how you found me but you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up at my door unannounced.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Would it have been better if I’d announced myself?” He asked.
“No, because you weren’t supposed to know where I was.”
Bruce knew that Jason was deliberately hiding, but with what he knew now, he couldn’t help but feel betrayed that his son was keeping this from him. He knew their relationship wasn’t the best, but why? Why didn’t Jason want him to know?
The pacifier fell to the ground and the baby in Jason’s arms scrunched her face at the loss. She grunted in frustration, gearing up to cry and Jason immediately responded, bringing her up against his chest with her head wobbling on his chest.
She still cried out, squirming uncomfortably against the younger man as he patted her back firmly.
“Well, since you’re here, I’m gonna put you to work.” Jason said, opening the door and gesturing for Bruce to come in with a nod of his head. “And get her pacifier for me.”
Bruce listened, grabbing the discarded pacifier and going inside.
The apartment was nice. Perfect for a family. The first thing that Bruce saw was the living area. There were toys strewn about, a basket of washed laundry that needed to be put up, a playmat, a bassinet; all the things that a household with young children would have.
Amira was sitting on the couch, gulping down the contents of a cup with her eyes glued to the TV. She looked up when she heard the door close and waved at Bruce, “Hi, Grandpa! Daddy is Grandpa visiting?”
“Yes.” He answered, walking towards the kitchen. “And don’t drink on the couch. We drink at the dinner table.”
“Why is he visiting?” Amira asked, watching Bruce follow after Jason as she trailed behind them to get to the dining table.
“Because he doesn’t know how to respect boundaries.” Jason quipped.
That seemed to be a satisfying answer for the child and she gulped down the rest of her drink at the table. “I want my tablet.”
“Please.” Jason stressed.
“Pretty please!” Amira sang, bouncing over.
Jason grabbed a tablet off the counter in the kitchen, unplugging it and handing it to Amira once she got close enough, “Take it to your room, please. I’ll come in there to get it in 30 minutes.”
Amira bounced away with the tablet, singing some song along the way to her room.
The baby was screaming now, but Jason didn’t seem to mind or care that she was screaming right in his ear. He pointed to the supplies on the counter; a can of formula, a gallon of distilled water and a bottle. “Alright, Grandpa, I need four ounces in the next two minutes or you’re out. Wash your hands before you do.”
Bruce, not wanting to get kicked out now that he knew who Jason was hiding, got straight to work. He washed and dried his hands, measured the water, poured in two scoops of formula, popped the nipple on and shook the bottle until everything was incorporated.
When he turned around to hand Jason the bottle, he was in the living room sitting on the couch. The infant was set in a pink boppy that allowed her to be more easily propped for her bottle that she was currently screaming for.
“I’m over here.” Jason said, as if Bruce couldn’t see that.
Once Bruce got the bottle to him, Jason popped it in the infant’s mouth and she was silenced. An awkward silence followed. It was just the sounds of the baby eating and the gentle jingle of whatever song had been captivating Amira on the TV.
Bruce stood there, hands clasped in front of him. His eyes darted between the baby, Jason and Amira.
Where should he start? Should he start? Or should he wait for Jason to start?
Bruce slowly opened his mouth again-
“Her name’s Laniya.” Jason said, never taking his attention off the infant. Bruce had never seen him look upon someone so fondly. “She’s two months old as of yesterday.”
Bruce snapped his mouth closed, afraid to anger Jason into silence with his questions. He nodded slowly.
When Laniya was halfway through the bottle, Jason took it from her mouth, threw a cloth onto his shoulder and situated her accordingly to firmly pat her back. Once she burped, he cradled her again on the boppy and was back to giving her the bottle.
“I was going to tell you.” He finally said, once Laniya finished the last of her bottle.
Bruce dared to ask a question, “When?”
Laniya fussed a little against Jason’s shoulder as he burped her again. “Next month.”
Forget feeling slimy, Bruce felt like an asshole now. He should’ve turned around when he had the chance. God, why did he have to be so nosey? He knew that Jason wasn’t in danger. He was a leech that needed to be involved in everyone’s life that used the guise of safety to intrude. If he’d respected his son enough, he would’ve waited.
He turned towards the door, unable to look at Jason as the shame came back tenfold. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave-”
“Do you want to hold her?”
The question made Bruce pause. Out of all the questions he expected from Jason, out of all the names he was sure he’d be called, and here Jason was asking if he wanted to hold his granddaughter.
And sincerely, at that.
So, Bruce turned back to his son, “Can I?”
“I offered, didn't I?” Jason scoffed, obviously amused at Bruce’s meekness. “Plus, you’re wearing some nice clothes, she’ll definitely spit up on you.”
Bruce smiled, holding out his hands, “I suppose I deserve that.”
Laniya barely fussed at the exchange, blinking up at Bruce languidly.
Bruce wasn’t someone that had baby fever. At least, not anymore. When he was younger, he did at times. But Laniya, his granddaughter, was a cute baby and was bringing back that fuzzy feeling he used to get.
“Where’s their mom?”
“Dead.” Jason answered. It sounded like that subject was not up for discussion. The wound was still too fresh.
“And Amira’s family?”
Jason shook his head with a long sigh, “I looked, I promise you I looked. Her dad’s in prison for DV charges and grandparents aren’t equipped… I was the best option. She already saw me as her dad before Laniya was born.”
Bruce shifted his gaze to Laniya, who was now fast asleep in his arms, “She’s beautiful.” He ran a thumb over her wispy curls. “She shares features with you. Like your lips and your eyes.” He figured that she’d look a lot like her dad when she got older.
Jason made a face, “Stop talking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Your voice is going all soft. Like your reminiscing.”
“Well… I guess I am. I never got to have any of you as babies.” There was a sad lilt hidden in his tone. One you wouldn’t catch unless you personally knew the man. And Jason, like all of Bruce’s kids, knew him.
So Jason scoffed again with a teasing smirk, “And thank god for that.” He could only imagine what a clusterfuck it would’ve been if Bruce had gotten Damian as a baby. As fucked up and cult-brainwashed the kid came, Jason isn’t sure he would’ve faired too much better with Bruce.
“Hn.” Bruce grumbled, not taking humor at Jason’s teasing.
Another round of silence sat between them. Bruce subconsciously began to rock on his feet, studying Laniya’s features as she was slowly lulled to sleep.
Jason, hands now empty, fiddled with them uselessly before starting towards the kitchen, “You want anything to drink? Alfred dropped off more tea.”
“No, you don’t need to-“
“Earl Grey or Oolong? I’ve got some herbal mixes if you don’t want caffeine.”
Bruce allowed himself to lose that battle, “Whatever herbal tea you think tastes best, I’ll take that.”
As the tea steeped, Jason walked to Amira’s room, peeking in to check on the young girl.
They exchanged a few words before Jason closed her door. Not all the way, just enough so they wouldn’t be heard.
“Ok.” Bruce looked up from admiring the infant in his arms. Jason seemed to be considering something. He relented, clenching and unclenching a fist, “You can ask two more questions and then you have to go.”
That was more than fair. In fact, Jason allowing Bruce to ask more than zero questions was generous. So, Bruce asked the first question that came to mind. “How long has Alfred known?”
“He found out a week after I got Laniya and Amira.” He admitted, grabbing Bruce’s mug and setting it on the small table in front of the couch. “I vaguely explained the situation. He showed up two days later, took Laniya, who was screaming her lungs out, from my arms and ordered me to go take a shower.”
Bruce caught that sad, fond look in his son’s eyes. He wished he could’ve been there for Jason. That he could’ve been a person that Jason would call for help.
“I broke down.” Jason laughed, “I was covered in spit up, Laniya was crying, Amira was always asking me questions. They were both struggling to sleep through the night so I’d had no consistent sleep… we were all mourning their mother. I took a shower, shaved and when I got to the living room, Laniya was fast asleep. Amira had eaten and was also asleep and Alfred was making me a small breakfast.”
“I’m sorry.” Bruce knew the words meant next to nothing. But he wanted Jason to know that he was sorry. “I’m sorry I wasn’t someone you could reach out to. I’m…”
Jason waved the apology away with a roughened hand. “Bruce, I’m over it. I knew you might do this so…” He sighed, “I’m not surprised you treated me like a mission.” His voice tightened towards the end and Bruce felt his heart clench.
Was he really that bad?
“Is that why…” Bruce kept his eyes on Laniya. When he couldn’t handle looking at her, he closed his eyes and sighed, “Is that why you didn’t tell me?”
A wall of silence stood between them.
A long, tired sound came out of Jason. He ran his hand down his face.
“Yes.” The answer was clipped. Honest and raw.
God, Bruce just kept fucking up when it came to his kids. He did everything to keep them safe but he couldn’t protect them from himself. Why did he have to be one of the most dangerous things in their lives?
Why couldn’t he do right by them? Do right by Jason?
“It’s not the whole reason, though.”
Bruce snapped away from his spiral to bring his gaze back to his son.
“I just needed time to mourn. We all do.” Jason began, green eyes peering down at Bruce. “And I needed time to adjust to being a parent for them and myself.”
When Bruce finally gained the courage to look at Jason, there was no more initial hurt. Only regret was left. “I stole part of that from you.” He realized. “Jason… I’m so sorry. I should’ve respected your privacy.”
He’d been searching for Red Hood when he should’ve been waiting for his son.
“It won’t happen again.” Bruce affirmed. “I won’t say anything to the others.” No one knew where he’d gone. If anyone asked any questions, he’d say it was another dead end.
Jason nodded, “Thank you.” He sounded like he’d truly received Bruce’s words.
Bruce knew he would. Jason had always been understanding.
He stayed until he finished his tea and Jason showed him out after he put Laniya down in her bassinet.
“So…” Bruce started once he was outside the apartment. He looked at Jason with a small smile, “See you next month?”
Jason dawned the same smile, “Yeah.”
Another apology threatened to fall from his lips, but he saved it. There would be no point besides making him feel better. He didn’t need reassurance from his son for something he decided to do.
If Jason decided that Bruce didn’t get to see his grandkids ever again, then Bruce would just have to cope.
“I love you, Jason.” Is what came out instead.
It surprised them both.
Jason rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “Yeah… I love you too, old man.”