Chapter Text
Every Friday, he felt like he was a dog on its way to be put down. One of his innumerable siblings would knock on his door at four in the morning and take him out somewhere. It was always a different place but they felt the same. Stores with shit he’d never buy, parks that were too clean and polished to seem real, and most recently, the zoo. He felt like he was in one of those videos he saw online of people taking their elderly dachshunds out to get burgers and ice cream or sit on the beach before they were euthanized. Their final day, the best day ever.
As pathetic as it made him feel, Jason didn’t completely despise it. Dick and Tim took turns and last week Dick took him to the Gotham Zoo. He showed Jason the animals that were retired from Haley’s Circus and told him the stories of growing up riding elephants and falling asleep with monkeys. It was sort of pleasant until they got to the tiger enclosure. There was a lone male tiger asleep in a patch of dirt behind a foot thick piece of glass. It was old and thin. The poor thing looked tired beyond belief. The tiger had an enclosure the size of five swimming pools but he laid in the one patch of dirt under the tree. Dick was still talking but Jason just watched it blearily blink and sigh.
He didn’t talk again until they got dinner afterwards. The pizza place in Bristol was upscale and overpriced. The meat lover’s slice he got had little bits of sirloin on it. It felt like chewing on a tire.
It was another Thursday night and he was out on the streets. The city was quiet beneath him. All of Crime Alley had been lately. Ever since he’d taken some of his excess cash and donated it to the public library, things had started to cheer up. The library was his first project. Since then, he’d anonymously built a playground, a community garden, and revitalized an abandoned apartment building into affordable housing. He was currently working out how to get a community theater going but it was… complex and, if he was being honest, a gamble. He wasn’t sure how utilized a theater would be in this part of town.
There was movement below him and he leaned over the edge of the roof to check it out. Rats. Literally. A half dozen little brown dots zipped to and from the open manhole cover. He leaned back and sighed.
Tim and Dick had been taking him out on little rendezvous for almost six months now. Any time he tried to pry into their motives behind it, they ignored the question and went back to whatever stupid thing they were doing. Jason had his suspicions but if he was right, it’d be too embarrassing to even-
Another noise below. Whispering. He leaned over again.
A small, hooded figure was crouched a few feet from the rats. They looked small enough to be a kid. Jason watched intently as the child threw something to the rats. They’d skitter over, pick up a piece, and chow down. He listened closely, the kid was speaking in… league dialect?
Jason suppressed the urge to throw himself over the edge of the roof. Instead, he opted to stare at the sky for a minute, hands on his hips, before gracefully making his way down.
“Why are you in the middle of Crime Alley on a Friday night dressed in civilian clothing?”
Damian stared up at him with a look of annoyance. Jason’s arrival caused the rats to scatter.
“Could you at least squat down? Your giant hulking refrigerator body scared the rodents.”
Jason wanted to laugh at that but squatted silently instead. He pulled off his helmet and watched as the rats cautiously popped their heads out of the gutter.
“You know you are one of the most recognizable people in the city, right?” Jason asked as he watched Damian grab another handful of chocolate chips out of his pocket.
“Obviously,” he whispered, throwing some in front of him, “That’s why I only revealed myself once I saw you.”
Jason watched as one of the rats picked up a treat and held it in both of its tiny hands as it ate.
“Can rats even eat chocolate?”
“They’re not dogs, Hood. This is dark chocolate.”
“That sounds more deadly.”
“It has actually been found to be beneficial for them. Listen to that one.” He pointed at a particularly round rat missing half an ear. Jason leaned a little closer and heard a soft squeaking.
“I don’t speak rat.”
“No, she’s sick. Something respiratory. High quality dark chocolate can help with that.”
Jason gave him an incredulous look. “Did you come all the way to Crime Alley just so I could watch you heal a rat with miracle candy?”
“No, Father sent me.”
Jason froze at that. He looked at his watch. It glared at him in dim red letters. Three thirty in the morning. Multiple things all slammed into his mind in a split second. First, Bruce was making Tim and Dick hang out with him. It wasn’t a good will thing like he had stupidly believed, it was another mission. Second, Bruce was keeping tabs on him. He made a mental note to check his apartment for bugs again. Third, Bruce sent Damian to hang out with him. A literal child was going to babysit him. The fourth thought was a question and the most important one. Why? Why would Bruce ask his extremely busy gaggle of children to come hang out with him? What was he trying to get from him? Why had he fallen for it?
“Yeah, ok,” Jason sighed as he stood. The rats left for a final time and Damian grumbled something under his breath. “You can stay at my place until morning but as soon as the sun’s up, I’m taking you home.”
Damian crossed his arms. “I’m supposed to stay until the sun goes down. Trust me, I have better things to do than meander around the slums of Gotham with you.”
That irked Jason a little and he let that bit of anger out by grabbing Damian’s hoodie and pulling him down the street.
“We’re going home.”
⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧
Despite what most might think, Jason’s apartment was extremely put together. Dick’s was a mess last time he saw him and Jason didn’t even want to think about what kind of squalor Tim currently called his apartment. In fact, Jason’s safe houses were one of his only points of pride. Unassuming and minimalist on the outside, but, if you knew where to look, filled to the brim with weapons, survival gear, and innumerable amounts of explosives. He had a flair for the dramatic.
“We’re back, now let go,” Damian huffed as he pushed him off. Jason let go easily and moved to the stove.
“You know, I’m not pleased to see you either,” he murmured. He grabbed a carton of eggs and a half empty pack of bacon strips. “I had to cut my patrol short.”
“There was nothing going on.”
Jason shrugged and turned on the stove, “It was the perfect night for a kidnapping.”
Damian dropped himself into a chair at the kitchen table. “I’m not eating that.”
“Do you seriously think I’d poison you?”
“Not enough to kill me. I meant that.” He pointed to the bacon.
“You’re still a vegetarian?”
Damian rolled his eyes, “You caught me feeding sewer rats. Does it sound like I eat meat?”
Jason pulled out another pan and grabbed two plates. “Was I this much of a little shit when I was your age?”
“Back when dinosaurs walked the Earth?”
“I’m twenty one!”
There was a little smirk on Damian’s face but Jason ignored it. No way was he admitting that a teenager had just bullied him.
⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧
They sat at opposite ends of the table because there were only two chairs. So there wasn’t exactly any other way they could’ve sat. Damian was halfway through his second egg. Jason had finished ten minutes ago.
“You eat like a sloth.”
“You eat like a garbage disposal.”
Jason didn’t want to be bested by the kid twice in one night so he shut his mouth and stared off into space.
The window opened. Jason’s pistol was drawn and aimed at Tim before his boot touched the floor.
“I thought we were past that,” he sighed as he closed the window behind him.
“We were until you broke into my house thirty seconds ago.”
Tim didn’t respond, instead, walking over to the stove and picking up a piece of bacon with his gloved fingers. He was fully decked out in his double R uniform.
“You always burn the bacon.” He shook his head.
“It’s intentional. I like it crispy.”
Jason glared at him and Tim snorted.
“I got your text,” Tim pointed to Damian.
Jason turned to the little shit before realizing he was still holding his gun. He placed it back where it was taped to the underside of the table and groaned. What the hell were Big Robin and Little Robin both doing here?
“I knew there was a gun under the table,” Damian smirked at Tim who in turn rolled his eyes.
“We all know there’s a gun under the table.”
“What the hell are you doing here? Did Damian ask you to pick him up?” It shouldn’t have hurt Jason as much as it did. Out of all of the Bats, he was probably the one Damian had been around the least.
“No, I was tracking him,” Tim shrugged and sat on the island counter. “I was just excited that you hadn’t decided to turn evil again.”
That also stung a little. Things were… rough in the early days of being resurrected by a dip in cursed nickelodeon slime but things had also changed. Jason was a lot closer with Tim. After a few months of not hating him, he kinda understood why he was Robin for so long. He was great at it. He had exactly the type of mind you needed to be a good detective. Analytical, resourceful, and annoyingly persuasive. Jason would never in a million years tell him that so instead he said:
“Fuck off.”
“Clever comeback.” Tim nodded.
“Fuck you.”
“Your vocabulary is astounding.”
Jason smiled a little at that.
“Well,” Tim sighed, “Now that I’ve confirmed that you and Robin are still alive, I guess we’re good to go-”
The window opened again and Jason didn’t even turn around.
“I thought we said four?”
Tim turned to Dick, “Have you met us? Early is on time, on time is late, and-“ He pointed to Damian.
“Late is unacceptable,” Damian mumbled. It was a phrase that had been drilled into all their minds from a young age.
Jason was starting to feel his face warm. He didn’t know if it was out of embarrassment or anger. Why was everyone here? Bruce clearly felt that Jason was being sketchy and that he needed a guiding hand, but three? One of which being a literal child?
“I hate you guys,” Jason went back to his breakfast feast.
“I thought you hated me because I broke into your apartment?” Tim smiled.
“You have a key! You know what,” Jason stood and dumped his half-eaten food in the sink. “I’m going to take a shower so you all better scram unless you all want to see me butt ass naked in the living room.”
Dick grimaced, “Dude, why’d you have to make it weird?”
Jason grabbed two plastic containers out of the cupboard and started to pile the rest of the bacon into them.
“Hmm, let’s see. I don’t get to finish patrol because I get the surprise role of babysitter and rat handler for the evening. Come to find out that Bruce has been making you all hang out with me. Why? I don’t care. Oh! Then Tim sits his skinny ass down on top of my counter in full gear, sticks his gloves into my pan, and refuses to leave. Then, after all of that you also break into my apartment with no warning! Maybe that’s why I threatened to strip in the living room.”
Tim glanced around the apartment, “Jason this is a studio. There’s no living room it’s just one big room.”
“Holy shit, get out. All of you,” Jason shoved the Tupperware containers of bacon towards Tim and Dick.
“All you had to do was ask,” Damian shrugged and quickly threw himself back onto the fire escape. Tim followed suit but Dick stopped for a minute.
“Jay-“
“You have five seconds.”
“Bruce only asked us the first time,” Dick shrugged, “Thanks for the bacon.”
Jason froze as he watched Dick silently flee into the night. He went back to the window, this time checking twice to make sure the traps were in place. There would not have any more stray birds flying into his apartment.
⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧
Jason didn’t see any Robins, former or current, for the entire weekend. Between the planning for the community theater and his late night chats while watching over the working girls, Sunday came peacefully. He slept in until around two in the afternoon. The safehouse he was in was just a block south of the one he spent Friday sulking around. This one was his favorite. It had a few small windows in the bedroom that faced East. Light dribbled in through the slatted blinds and it always made him feel like he was in a Golden Age movie. Jason stretched his shoulders as he sat up.
Bruce was standing in the corner fully suited up. Jason groaned and laid back down.
“You’re lucky I had a peaceful night, old man.”
Bruce stepped closer and Jason looked over his shoulder. What was with everyone all of a sudden? Why were they all coming over? Had he done something suspicious, recently? Surely, not more so than usual.
“How are you doing, Jason?”
Jason continued to stare at him, “You broke in to ask me that? What is up with everybody and breaking in? We need better boundaries.”
Bruce sat on the edge of his bed and suddenly, Jason was thirteen years old. At thirteen, he felt older than he ever should have. He felt like he knew better than all the adults around him. He was such a stupid, naïve kid. He remembered how Bruce used to check on him at night, sometimes. The nearly silent squeak of the door and the way Jason would feign sleep so he could feel Bruce run a gentle hand over his head. The quiet “good night”. Alfred oiled every door in the Manor except Jason’s. He knew that Jason needed to hear that door open and close. All those stupid little things he took for granted.
“Damian told me about his… excursion last night,” Bruce mumbled.
“He told you about the rats?”
Bruce shook his head but there was no surprise, “That’s where the chocolate went…”
Jason wanted to laugh but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Say what you came here to say and get out. I’m pissed at you.”
Bruce opened his mouth and quickly stopped himself. “We’re having our monthly family dinner tonight. The only ones in town right now are Cass, Tim, and Damian. Would you like to come?”
“What am I? A seat filler?”
“What? No- Jason,” He sounded tired and there was that kid sitting behind Jason’s eyes again. The one clawing for approval until he hit bone.
“Crime Alley’s been peaceful lately ,” Bruce finally looked at him, “I figured you were the one that brought that peace. I didn’t want to disrupt any projects you were working on.”
“I killed a man three days ago.” What was he doing? Here was the olive branch he had silently begged for, tied in a ribbon and set in his lap. Why was he trying to fuck it up?
Bruce tensed for a split second but relaxed. “You can still join us for dinner.”
Jason watched him. He tried to find any little crack he could. Maybe if he described the murder, the bat would fly away.
“I’m working on building a community theater.”
Somehow, Bruce tensed even more. Even his voice was tight, “That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ll make it happen.”
Another minute of silence where Jason waited for something to happen, a yell, a smoke bomb, a hand on his shoulder. Instead, he got a key. Jason took it from his gloved hand. It felt old and heavy, heavy with the weight of people and things he no longer recognized.
“I hope to see you there.”
There were no smoke pellets nor a gentle hand on his head. Jason blinked and he was gone.
⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧
On Sunday night, he showed up unannounced. He didn’t respond to any other texts before jumping on his bike and riding to the manor with a pit in his stomach and a book tucked into his saddlebag.
It was just dinner. All he had to do was sit down, enjoy Alfred’s perfect cooking, and split. Maybe a little chatting but he could manage. Damian no longer spoke like he had a thesaurus up his ass and Tim was funny when he wanted to be. Jason’s cases with Cass were always brief. She spoke but only when she felt it was needed. Then, there was the bat-shaped elephant in the room.
God, he did not want to talk to Bruce. He was probably mad at how Jason’s latest case went or, worse, just straight up annoyed with him. Those were the only two reasons he would’ve invited him. That stupid dinner was probably just a ploy to get him to come to the manor so Bruce could try and convert him to his non-lethal ways. Still, he hoped he was angry. “Angry Bat” was a lot less infuriating to deal with than “Annoyed Bat”. Jason sighed as he parked in the Batcave.
“Oh, you actually showed up,” Tim turned away from the Batcomputer, soda can in hand, “Damian owes me twenty bucks.”
“You got him into the glorious world of Bat gambling?”
Tim shrugged, “He insisted.”
“You can never start ‘em too young.” He put his helmet on his bike and waltzed over to the computer, “Pull up the manor’s cameras for me.”
Tim did so silently before flipping through the feed.
“Trying to sparse out the competition?” Tim asked.
“Something like that.”
Cass was in the kitchen watching Alfred as she no doubt tried to sneak a taste of whatever he was stirring. Damian was in the library with the furry version of Alfred in his lap as he played on a-
“Damian has a Nintendo Switch?” Jason asked incredulously.
Tim nodded, “Jon got one for his birthday a few months ago and then Damian wanted one too. He’s been glued to that thing for weeks.”
“Great, the little brat’s an iPad baby now.”
Tim snorted at that before flipping through the rest of the cameras.
No Dick, Steph, Duke, or other miscellaneous bat-themed people in the house.
“Where’s the big man?” Jason shifted back slightly. He was nervous. It was irrational but he got a little spike of anxiety when he didn’t know Bruce’s general location. Maybe it was a trauma thing but then again, everything with him seemed to be a trauma thing.
He didn’t… hate Bruce but he wasn’t sure he liked him either. He didn’t even want to think about if he still loved him. It seemed like his view of the man shifted with the tides of the harbor. One night Jason would be lying in bed, shaking and hyperventilating from a nightmare wishing that he could just walk over and knock on Bruce’s door like he had all those years ago. The next night he’d wake and wish that he could beat him until his fists were broken and bloody. Tonight he was somewhere in limbo.
“Bruce had an emergency meeting at the office,” Tim sighed as he closed the program and got up, “Alfred will be excited to see you. He made your favorite.”
“I’d ask how he knew I was coming but-“
“-family of detectives.” Tim finished for him.
Jason was still unsure of the whole “Family” thing. It made him feel like he was in an even worse version of the Godfather.
The manor was warm compared to the cool, early Spring night and he instinctively slipped into the West wing library.
“Todd,” Damian greeted without looking up.
“Watching Cocomelon?” Jason smiled as he shelved his borrowed book.
Damian didn’t respond so Jason went back to searching for his next nighttime read.
“I heard you discovered Father’s latest ‘mission’.”
Jason paused his searching and turned to him, “And?”
Damian shrugged. “I thought it was stupid from the beginning. If you needed help you would’ve asked. You’re the most emotional person I currently know.”
Jason watched him for a second trying to decide if that conversation was done.
“Have you heard of ‘Tomodachi Life’?”
Ok, conversation over.
“Isn’t it like the Sims?” Jason asked as he sat down next to him.
Damian paused for a second and Jason realized he had probably never heard of the Sims.
“Let me see,” he grabbed the console from Damian too quickly for him to react.
“Todd! Give that back!”
Jason was already climbing the ladder to the balcony of the library, flipping through rows of Miis.
“Aw, you and Jon live together. Cute,” Jason smiled. Damian’s Mii looked scarily like him, down to the little frown permanently etched onto his face.
“Jason!”
“And you made Tim! God, why does he look so sad?”
Damian was up the ladder in a second but Jason jumped over the railing. He found his own little Mii sitting in a corner of the island. The white streak in his hair looked more gray but he was peacefully reading under a tree. Something hot pulled in his chest.
Damian grabbed it back from him and swept his foot under Jason’s knees. He buckled to the floor with a grunt and Damian gave him a slightly rough kick in the side for good measure.
“Cain is right, you’re becoming slow in your old age,” Damian smirked.
Jason shook his leg, “Cass called me slow?”
“More or less.”
Jason hated Bruce sometimes for deciding that a combination of Talia Al Ghul and himself was a good idea.
“Did you make everybody you know and put them on the island?” Jason asked.
Damian, suddenly sheepish, shrugged and put the game back on the coffee table.
“It’s a nice reminder of the family that sometimes decides I’m not worth their time.”
Jason understood that feeling and something in his stomach stirred like a great, big beast awoken after years of sleep. Damian shouldn’t feel like that. He should feel loved and looked after even if he refused both on several occasions. Jason was torn between comforting him and tracking down Dick to yell at him. He didn’t have time to decide.
“Damian, Alfred said you had a surprise…?”
Oh shit. Jason turned around to see Bruce standing in the open doorway. He was still dressed for the corporate hellscape but his jacket was off. He looked Jason over like he was either assessing for injuries or determining if he could add some more.
“B.”
Bruce didn’t… smile but he kind of nodded.
“Hello, Jason. I’m glad you’re here.”
⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧
He almost left right there and then, but there was something in Bruce’s expression that seemed hopeful. While that was extremely unsettling, it also intrigued him and Jason suddenly found himself between Cass and Damian at the table.
Tim wasn’t lying. When Alfred had somehow heard that Jason was coming back to the manor, he set out an extra place setting and completed it with a large plate of rosemary sourdough and beef stew. He gave Jason an extra slice of bread with a light pat on his shoulder. Jason loved his sourdough. When Alfred made it from scratch, he would always send him home with an extra loaf tucked under his arm.
“Thanks Alfie,” he mouthed but Alfred was already off to the kitchen to do whatever he did when they ate.
“How was everyone’s patrols this week?” Bruce asked lightly. He was sitting at the head of the table as he always did, but for some reason, it pissed Jason off in the moment.
“Richard and I finally shut down that dog fighting ring,” Damian said proudly.
“Great work,” Bruce glanced up at Tim and Jason but they stayed silent, “Jason? How has the drug ring been going?”
Jason laughed under his breath. He prayed for a shitshow and at the same time he prayed for a lack of one.
“Do we have to do this during dinner?” Damian looked to Bruce, “Can’t we have one family meal that doesn’t end in someone storming out, yelling?”
“I didn’t yell last week!” Tim yelled.
“But you were crying,” Cass smiled.
“I definitely was not,” Tim huffed and Bruce put a hand up. Tim went back to his stew. Jason always found that pathetic. He… liked Tim but he didn’t like his constant approval seeking from B.
“Ok,” Bruce tried to smile and failed, “Tim, how are you and Bernard doing?”
“Holy shit,” Jason laughed and dropped his elbows on the table.
They all gave similar reactions save for Tim who looked like he wanted to evaporate.
“Ok, I killed a bunch of guys last week,” Jason started and Tim somehow looked more excited to talk about murder than his romantic life. “I killed a group of traffickers because I do that from time to time. If you invited me here to tell me off, then do it now-”
“I thought you said it was only one?” Bruce asked.
Jason turned to Tim, “Should we invest in Bat hearing aids?”
Tim was still bright red. Bruce turned towards Jason, “What do you mean?”
Instead of breaking down into a rambling, incoherent speech of his thought process he shrugged. “It was three. I killed three rapists. You can keep sending your little missionaries out. You can keep telling them to make me go soft and stop the lethality, but a trip to the zoo and a burger won’t bend my morals.”
Bruce looked like he was going to be sick until Tim stepped in, “Guys, can we please just wait until after we eat.”
“I don’t think B’s going to eat anymore,” Jason motioned with his fork.
“You look sick,” Cass nodded.
Bruce stood abruptly and all but ran out of the dining room. The remaining four looked at each other. The tension was so thick Jason thought he was going to suffocate.
“I’m finished,” Damian finally said. He grabbed his plate and walked towards the kitchen. “Find me when you have sorted yourselves out. I have to tend to my Miis.”
⛧°.⋆༺🦇༻⋆.°⛧
Jason wasn’t going to stick around. Not even for a loaf of sourdough. He stomped down the stairs into the cave, ready to hop on his bike and get the hell out of town.
“Jason.”
He pulled his helmet back off and turned to Bruce. There was a loaf of sourdough in his hand.
“Were you not listening upstairs? I don’t want any more gifts or surprise visits. You don’t like what I do and I’m not going to change so stop. Fucking. Trying.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” It was “Angry Bruce”. Jason could handle that. He knew the anger.
“Yeah, these totally aren’t manipulations tactics and since we’re already in fantasy land, I guess I’ll hop onto my magical Pegasus and fly away.” He mounted the bike but Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.
“Jason,” his voice was quieter this time but stern. “I’m not trying to change you. Take the bread.”
Take the bread? He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He definitely didn’t believe him, he was sure of that. But take the bread? Why? Was it some pity handout or was it laced? Was it actually just a gift?
Jason yanked it out of his hand, tearing the parchment wrapping in the process. He kicked up the bike stand and revved the engine.
“If I see another one of you breaking into my apartment again, I’m going to shoot you.”
He left before Bruce could respond. The drive was long and cold and it wasn’t until he reached the city that he realized his helmet was still on the hood of the Batmobile.