Chapter Text
The curveball of this timeline is also the curveball on Bruce Wayne's annual personal ritual on the anniversary of his parents' departure.
Yesterday, one lucky bullet from Penguin's submachine gun pierced through the Batmobile armor and hit the electrical console, totally frying it. It's still drivable like a normal (ugh) car, but what makes it a Batmobile, not just a fancy car, is gone, and Bruce prefers to get it back to its full capacity as fast as possible.
Dick is not here anymore, so it is better to have all his tools and arsenal fully function. He asks Lucius to repair the car.
Bruce looks at the large framed picture of him and his parents in the manor's main hall. He still won't miss this day. He can't.
Jason is staring at the fucking Bentley blatantly parked in Crime Alley. Holy shit. A real Bentley. This is Jason's triple seven.
Yesterday, Batman's carnage with Penguin's gang made Crime Alley surprisingly quiet today, so this pretty cake, he means, car, is all Jason's.
Jason is also not reckless. He checks the plate. It doesn't belong to any mafia, mafioso, yakuza, bratva, or any rogue's. Jason grins like a cat that got the cream. The tires, outer mirror, rim and battery. If Jason can get them all, the money can last him a whole year.
Jason thinks of having a roof over his head, a shower, and a big XL double patty Batburger. Internally hums (he keeps his silence) and starts to work.
"Mother, Father," Bruce says to the deserted alley. "This year, the manor is quiet again. Did I make the wrong choice?"
"Whoa! What're you doing to my car?" A cheery voice comes from behind Jason. With quick reflex, Jason swings the tire iron at the fucker behind him.
The man steps back just in time, but he loses his balance and lands ungracefully on his ass. He even makes a comical 'oof' when he hits the floor.
"That's not nice, young man! Ow, my back. I'm not as young as I look in the magazine, you know?" And the stupid man winks at Jason. What the fuck? Is he a moron?
"Get away, man! This is my car!" Jason shouts back, gripping the tire iron tight.
The man chuckles, then he slowly pushes himself up ("Heep-ho!" the guy says. Oh my god. A real life himbo?). When he stands up fully, Jason realizes the man is a fucking giant. Almost as tall as Willis, and that's something. With his height alone, all that dorkiness he projects vanishes.
He's standing, towering, and he steps toward Jason. Jason will not step back. He's never backed down from Willis, he will not back down from this guy too. Hands, stop shaking.
The big man with the blue eyes maybe takes a glance at Jason's hand. Then, he stops his tracks... and he crouches down.
"I'm sorry I intimidated you," he says.
"Intimidate? By you!?" Jason shouts. "You just land on your ass in front of me, you stupid fucker. I'm not scared."
The man chuckles. "I didn't even say that you're scared."
Jason's cheek flushes. There is a bit of pause, both sides watching each other. Jason could run away, he's small but fast.
But Jason instead says to the crouching man, who lowers his big burly self down so much so that Jason does not have to look up. "What do you big gigantic man with asswad cash of money know about being scared anyway. Shut the fuck up."
"I didn't even start talking yet," the man counters, but he makes a small smile. His demeanor is slowly changing, from the extra klutz earlier to something else, or someone more genuine. "But I do know about being scared. The scariest moment in my life was there, twenty five years ago." He points at the dark alley. "I come here to face that moment every year. Park Row is the place where they were shot after we exited the theater."
"I'm sorry for that," Jason, potty mouth as he is, replies automatically. Mum taught him empathy, man.
Eh? Wait. There's no theater here. Well, there used to be, when it was Park Row, a mix-match of vibrant downtown and slum, mum has said. Now it's mostly a slum and crime since the death of that ultra-ultra-rich...
Jason looks at the crouching man in a tailored suit, a bit dirty by the fall. The perfect slicked-back hair, and owner of a fucking expensive car that can fit fifteen Jasons in it.
"Ya Bruce Wayne!?"
"Young man, do you want a big extra large double patty Batburger?"
Somehow, Jason, like Alice falling down in the rabbit hole, is now fostered by billionaire klutz Bruce Wayne.
A bribe, he means, three libraries in the manor do help.
"One is for classic and first edition, the other for contemporary fiction and non-fiction. The other..." Bruce opens the door, stumbles a bit, revealing a not as large but cozy library with amazing light. It's not as ornate as the two (gorgeous) others, with shelves and floor made of lighter oak, decorated with red and green plush, white cream macrame and embroidery, but still captivating.
Jason follows, his hand holding the Pride and Prejudice that he's yoinked from the classics library. He observes the books here, picture books, pop-up books. Dozens of comics and even a few Japanese manga. Box sets of pick your adventure books. Colorful encyclopedias. An interesting amount of detective books.
And row and row of empty shelves.
"It's unfinished?" Jason asks.
"More like unfilled," Bruce says. "My father was a very avid reader. The second library we have seen? He built it himself. He wanted me to try filling my own too." Bruce looks down. "I do have my own collection of non-fiction, but I prefer to fill them in the main library, or the contemporary one."
Jason raises a hand to almost touch the wood, but only almost. He just arrived at the manor for a week.
"This is your home now, Jason. You can touch," Bruce says.
Slowly, Jason touches the empty shelf. Touches the spines of the books for young Bruce Wayne. Touch the green and red drapes. "The decoration is a bit..."
"Christmasty?" Bruce smiles, reminiscent. "I got this library at Christmas, so it's like this." He seems forlorn at the empty shelves.
Jason looks at Bruce, then he puts the Pride and Prejudice he carries in the empty space, next to a set of Zorro comics. Then he throws himself at the bean bag there. "Oof," Jason says.
Bruce looks at him quizzically.
"This is my reading room now, Bruce," he answers. "It's gonna be overflowing with books in one year."
Bruce makes a genuine smile. "With how fast you're reading, maybe three months."
"Dude, you don't have to pretend to be a klutz around me," he comments when Bruce drops his water glass for the umpteenth time since Jason has been here.
"What--" Bruce swipes the plate from the table, and Jason catches it.
"I said stop it." He glares at Bruce. "This... pretending. You do it all the time when you go out, but you don't have to do it with me."
Jason throws the plate at Bruce, and as he expects, Bruce catches it without even looking.
"When do you realize?" he says, staring at Jason intensely.
Jason shrugs. "I suspected from the first day, but I'm pretty solid that all was intentional last week when you taught me tennis. Your footwork is perfect when you teach me, but you suddenly become clumsy when you play with me. Also, you catch one of my stray tennis balls to the back of your head without even looking."
"And you're not suspicious at all why I act like this?"
Jason tilts his head. "I guess you have your reasons. You're dialing the lousiness to the max when you interact with stupid people, rich or not rich. There are some people I know you don't fake with. Alfred. Lucius Fox guy. Leslie."
But Bruce does not let it go yet. "Jason, if I ask you to guess my reason, what will you guess?"
This is the glimpse of the real Bruce Jason sees in the manor. Intense. Focused. Sharp. A bit intimidating.
But Jason thinks the Bruce Wayne that crouched down to calm Jason on that fateful first meeting is the real Bruce Wayne too.
"You want people to underestimate you," Jason answers truthfully.
Bruce looks at him, intensely, again. "You have a sharp sense, extraordinary deftness of hand, and a strong will. You have talent."
"Talent for--" Then, said Jason's sharp eyes notice a paper, folded in Bruce's pocket with a Gotham Academy symbol on it "--hey, is that the placement test result?"
Bruce's demeanor changes. He smiles faintly, like the man who crouched before Jason that day. Jason thinks this is the realest Bruce. "Can't hide from you, huh?" He pulls the paper out. "It's out, Jason. The math test is a little one year behind your appropriate age, but you score max on ELA on all level assessments given, including one year advanced for your age."
Jason reads the result. The math is kinda expected. He missed four whole years of math lessons and tried to catch up in one and a half months. But the max English score is beyond his expectation. "Which means..."
"It means you can begin school next month, at an age-appropriate grade. You may need an extracurricular math class for the first three months, but the school is pretty sure that--oof."
Jason tackle-hugs Bruce, then gets embarrassed and steps back immediately. "I'm sorry! Um, I mean, thanks, man. This is awesome." He stares at the paper. "I thought I would never go back to school again."
"Jason, even homeless kids have a right to go to school," Bruce says honestly.
"Bruce, they have rights, but they have no chance. You're giving me a chance. A big fucking chance."
Some conversations that happen without Jason.
"Master Bruce, earlier in the living room, did you intend to ask him to be Robin?"
"Hm."
"Master Bruce, do remember that Robin is young master's legacy. Not yours."
"No. I didn't intend to take that from him. But, Alfred. The kid has talent, maybe different from Dick, but still very remarkable. More importantly, he has a good heart."
"Nevertheless, you should talk to young master first."
"That is if he will ever answer my phone, or my text, or acknowledge my presence at all. But let's put that aside, Alfred. Do you see how happy he is with school prospects? I want him to fully enjoy that."
After Jason notes to Bruce about his fake clumsiness (Bruce later tells him it's 'Brucie Wayne'), Bruce in the manor starts being more himself when he's with Jason.
Jason still thinks he's a himbo, just not falling down comically on the stairs every time.
Bruce says it makes it easier if the press focuses on what stupid thing Brucie does today, instead of some serious speculation about his business moves. From what Jason observes, the real Bruce Wayne is a very, very good businessman, even though kinda absent and leaving most things to the Lucius guy.
"I'm home!" Jason says and hangs his blazer at the doorway quickly (before Alfred can come and hang it for him. Alfred is awesome, but no, he can't digest having to have other people hanging his clothes).
"Hello, Jason," Bruce answers from the living room. He's still in his PJs, with a large, large cup of coffee. "I'm very sorry for my absence during breakfast."
Jason snickers. "Hard party, huh?"
At that comment, Bruce wilts even further.
"Don't worry, man." Jason throws his bag on the couch, and then throws himself on the sofa. "I know you ain't even enjoying it much."
"How would you know?" Bruce asks him.
"Hmm. You don't reek of alcohol, your fatigue the next day is always more from exhaustion than from, um, exhilarating activity," Jason says, giving his observation.
He's really okay with it. Bruce does go out at night often, but never before saying goodnight to Jason, and normally he will wake up to take breakfast with Jason before going back to sleep, unless he seems to pull a heavy all-nighter. But then on days like this, Bruce will be there to greet Jason after school no matter how exhausted he is.
Moreover, when Bruce does have to stay somewhere else, he has Alfred. Bruce's butler who seems more like Bruce's father. And Alfred is awesome. Jason has never met any adult he can discuss Shakespeare with. One weekend that Bruce isn't here, Alfred brings him to see a musical for the first time. Oh, it was glorious.
"Sharp eye, Jay-lad," Bruce says. He calls Jason like he is a '30s-era guy again. "How's school?"
Jason shrugs, feigning being the nonchalant teenager like some of his peers. "Well, the usual," Jason says, pulling his assignment paper out.
"So you have a good day," Bruce comments.
He glares at Bruce. "It's you that has the sharp eyes, but, yeah, it's going well. Miss Kathy, the English teacher, praised me when she returned my assignment. The math is not as confusing as the first month anymore. Speaking of math," Jason puts the math homework on the coffee table, "lemme tackle this."
Bruce tells him several times that Jason can do his homework in the library or his own room. Aside from the essay that Jason likes to do in the smallest library, Jason likes doing homework with people around as white noise. Bruce's steps. Alfred's cooking. Anything.
"You're different from Dick. Dick is the guy who will push homework as long as he can. You almost seem eager to do it," Bruce comments.
Bruce sometimes talks about this 'Dick', who, with just the first google result, is Bruce's ward, now living in Blüdhaven. The guy used to have quite a social media presence that faded away after he moved.
Bruce oftentimes talks about him with a noticeable amount of sadness.
Jason makes a face. "Eh, not really. But it's better to clear it and have free time than having to rush it haphazardly before bedtime. If I clear it, I have all the free time in the world."
Bruce watches Jason tackling the math homework for a while, with the TV playing in the background, until he says, "You love it."
"Huh?"
"School," Bruce says. This is the real Bruce. Jason notices, when he truly speaks from his heart, he tends to use fewer words.
"Hmm." Jason thinks, and nods. "Honestly? Uncool as it is, yeah, I do, but not exactly the school life. I'm not a masochist. I do love what I'm doing right now. The life where I don't have to be alert all the time. The life that feels like not everything is against me."
At that moment, the evening news is starting.
"Yesterday, a vicious eco-terrorist named Poison Ivy caused significant property damage in the Madison Park area."
The TV is showing a shaky phone camera zoomed in on Batman battling Poison Ivy.
"...has been dealt with, and the evacuation order is lifted."
"No Robin again," Jason comments on the TV. "I think he has been out of the game for at least half a year?"
Bruce stares at the TV screen. "Jason, what do you think of them? Batman... and Robin?"
"Well..." Jason says while copying the question into his notebook, "cool as fuck, I guess. Pretty good guys, from what I heard on the street. Well, half the street I like. The other half that I hate their guts also hates the Bat's guts, too. And I'm a Gothamite kid through and through. There's no Gotham kid that doesn't love Robin. I think every Gotham kid dreams of a chance of being Robin and doing cool things."
"Do you, too?" Bruce asks.
"Hmm?"
"Dream of being Robin?"
Jason finally pauses his hand. "Of course. Who doesn't? But..." He looks around the room. "...I have other dreams, too. Of a full belly. Of a roof over my head. Of waking up with Mum waking me up instead of the sound of the trash picker doing their job. Of getting praised for doing well in school again."
His cheeks are a bit warm.
"And I'm fine with this, Bruce. I'd rather have this than being Robin." He laughs jokingly. "I need my library time."
Some conversations that happen without Jason.
"Sir, earlier..."
"That's the last time I'll ask him, Alfred. He's really better off if he does not get involved with... this."
The man's hands pause on the keyboard.
"What that boy dreams of is warmth and safety, not danger and justice. Even if he does have talent."
"He does remind me of a very young you, when Master Thomas and Madam Martha were still here. The boy has found his happy place."
"And we should let him be in the light."
Bruce does travel often, Jason notes. Usually not more than a few days. When that happens, Jason is left with Alfred.
Some trips he FaceTimes Jason every day. It starts three times a day, but Jason begs Bruce to please stop worrying. He's fine. But some trips Bruce says he may not be able to call Jason.
Today, Jason notices Bruce is worried about something.
"Whatcha thinkin', B?" Jason asks while inhaling his breakfast.
Bruce sighs, looking at his phone. "I may need to be away for half a month in November."
"Oh? Where to?"
"Spa--Spain," Bruce stutters.
Alfred makes a small laugh from the kitchen.
"Ahem." Bruce clears his throat. "So I need to find you a sitter."
"I'm not a baby. Why can't it be just Alfred and me? Alfred? Can I have more toast, please?"
Alfred walks out of the kitchen to serve him more toast, and veggies. Ew.
"Being in the manor with you is delightful, young sir. But I do have manor maintenance business that I may not postpone if it's more than a week. And my relatives in England often have health emergencies that I may need to suddenly visit."
"Oh," Jason says, a bit dejected.
Bruce pats his head. "Don't think you are a burden, Jason. But I'm still a Wayne. The manor is vast. Some parts have outsourced workers or contractors."
Bruce has stated before that there's a chance someone will use Jason to get to Bruce, either Bruce's money, Bruce's connections, anything the Waynes can reach. That Dick has been abducted a few times before (who the hell gets multiple kidnapping!?). This makes parts of the big-ass manor accessible only by the family and trustees, which now is mainly Bruce, Jason, and Alfred.
Seeing the family wing needing a retina scan to access is surreal, but when Jason realizes the value of various vases and statues lying around, it's understandable.
"I really need to contact him," Bruce says.
Some conversations that happen without Jason.
"Alfred, can you call him for me?"
"Finally, Master Bruce."
A huff.
"I suggest you think of what you want to say first. Writing it beforehand is even better. Being proofread by me will be excellent."
"Hmph... okay."
"Oh? You relents so easily."
"I need him to meet the boy first, getting familiar at least before I go to space. Jason does not know how deep Gotham's shadow can be. I don't want to leave him alone."
Jason is nervous. He's opened and closed the book on his lap several times now. Bruce seems nervous, too. He keeps glancing at his watch.
Richard is coming today. Dick, Bruce's former ward.
In these six months, it's easy to guess that whatever relationship Bruce and Dick have, it's strained as fuck.
"They're both good people with great hearts, and the bloody stubbornness of a mule," Alfred told him when he asked.
This is what Jason has gathered in his own little investigation:
- Before whatever happened, they seemed very close, in the territory of father and son, judging from various photos around the manor.
- Something happened. Something that Alfred does think Bruce should take the major side of the blame for, from the stray conversations Jason catches.
- This is now the wild guess territory now, but Jason thinks both of them don't really hate each other. Bruce still looks or talks about Dick with love. Jason also found recent news where a reporter asked about why Dick is not in Gotham anymore, with insinuations that they have family drama. The Dick guy, however, replies with a casual laugh and easy smile. "Nah, I just want to try living a low-profile life and focus on finding my own path." No trash talk back at Bruce.
- They have not spoken to each other in almost a year.
There's a soft conversation starting from the hallway, with a voice Jason hasn't heard before, and there, Dick Grayson appears with Alfred. He's a young adult man with a photogenic face and graceful steps. His face is relaxed at first, but tense at the sight of Jason, and even tenser at seeing Bruce.
Silence.
Dick and Bruce are staring at each other.
Awwwkward.
"Umm. Hi?" Jason slowly waves his hand.
"Hello," Dick says, shifting his focus to Jason. Voice toneless. "Bruce told me a little about you."
"Okay? What'd he say?" Jason puts on a brave face and continues. He feels like he's a debutante on her first formal society appearance.
"'I have fostered one child. You should meet him at the manor,'" Dick says in what's probably a mock of Bruce's tone. Then he makes a gesture of someone putting the phone down.
Jason looks at Bruce. Bruce averts his eyes. Alfred is facepalming behind Dick Grayson.
Silence, again, until Dick decides to sit on one couch, farthest from Bruce.
"The press doesn't seem to be aware of anything yet. So I know nothing," Dick says, maybe to the air.
"Jason has started attending Gotham Academy for three months now. It's soon to reach the press. I do want you to know before them," Bruce says to Dick.
Dick does not acknowledge Bruce, but looks at Jason. "I'm Dick Grayson. Nice to meet you."
"Jason Todd," Jason answers. "Nice to meet you, too." He puffs up his chest and doesn't back down.
Dick raises his eyebrows at Jason's emerging attitude. "Anyway, since someone cannot say more than a dozen words, I don't know anything about you."
"In contrast, there are so many things about you on the internet," Jason counters back.
Dick shrugs.
"But even more in the manor. Even without anyone talking directly about you with me, there's evidence of you here more than me." Jason looks Dick in the eyes, observing his reaction.
Which Dick reveals none, still making a faint, fake smile. Jason is now scowling at Dick. "Well, I did live here for ten years. Before you."
You jackass, Jason thinks, but doesn't say.
"Dick," Bruce starts, but the glare Dick gives Bruce is icy cold, hundreds of times colder than how he looks at Jason.
"You say something and I'll go back to Blüdhaven immediately."
Yeah, Bruce arranged for him and Dick to meet because he wants Dick to stay with him when he'll go to Spain next month. But Jason thinks the family knot that needs to detangle may take much more time than this meeting. He doesn't even know why Bruce needs it to be Dick, instead of a professional nanny or something. The guy is rich enough to hire literally anyone.
Bruce glares at Dick, but refrains from speaking anymore. Because for some reason he needs Dick to babysit Jason, Dick is now the one who has the power in this room.
Dick shifts his eyes back to Jason. "How did you meet him?"
"I'm a street kid that jacked his car tire in front of the Alley on the anniversary of his parents' death," Jason says back, frankly, gauging how this Dickhead will react. Better know if he looks down on street rats like him before they interact any further.
Dick's eyebrows lift up. "You jacked the Ba--"
"Bentley!" Bruce shouts.
Everyone looks at Bruce.
Bruce clears his throat. "Um, it's the Bentley."
Dick looks at Bruce with coldness in his eyes again, but with a hint of a question. Bruce does not say anything more.
"You jack car tires? Cool skill," Dick comments.
"I can also pickpocket, shoplift, and steal many things," he pushes. "I'm a dirty street kid, unlike you."
Dick somehow seems more interested. The underlying wariness slowly vanishes. "I'm impressed."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Dick nods, but still has some antagonistic look at Jason. "So Bruce took you in to replace me? When are you gonna go out?"
What a jackass. "I am not anyone's replacement! And go out to where?" Does the guy mean the press? Bruce has mentioned for a while that soon the press will sniff out Jason's existence.
"Or have you already gone out as Ro--"
"Robert Pattinson!" Bruce shouts. Suddenly he is standing up.
Alfred hides his laugh behind a handkerchief.
Bruce looks so comically panicked that even Dick forgets to make the cold glare at Bruce. "Huh?"
Bruce turns to Dick. "Um. Er. Robert. Robert Pattinson. When you talk about the press. I just want to say that there are scoops that say he and I could be twins."
Dick says, "What are you talking about?"
Bruce looks at Dick, like he's communicating something.
Then the dawn of a realization is on Dick's face. He looks at Jason with shock.
"What are you telepathing about?" Jason scowls at Bruce.
"Nothing." Surprisingly, it's Dick that says that. "Um. Jason, nice to meet you again. Really. I need to talk to Bruce alone for a minute. About, yeah, about his resemblance to Robert Pattinson. This is why you should talk more than twelve words on the phone! You dimwit."
"I panicked, so I cut the call!" Bruce explains.
Some conversations that happen without Jason.
"He doesn't know?"
"He doesn't. Why do you assume that he knows?"
"When I talked to Alfred earlier, he said the kid is living in the family wing! The wing with the cave access!"
"It doesn't mean he knows."
"Everyone that has a room there knows. And, and you seem so open with him."
"I do." The man grunts. "Open up with him. Just not this."
A sigh. "I thought you called me here to parade him around as Robin or somethin'."
"I..."
"You dare even think of that? Robin is my name you dared to take from me. You think of giving it to others!?"
"Dick. At least, please get to know him first. Consider that at least he's innocent in the... conflict between us."
"...Okay. By the way, did you really hang up the phone after speaking twelve words because you panicked about what I'd say?"
"Hnn."
At dinner, Jason meets Dick again. This time, he seems curious.
Jason just keeps eating while glaring at Dick.
"You're gonna stab your own tongue with a fork if you keep glaring at me," Dick comments.
Jason does not stop staring.
Dick laughs. "You have an attitude."
"I have an attitude with anyone that suddenly turns 180 degrees with me."
"I'm sorry for earlier. It's not about you, it's about him." Dick gestures to Bruce, without looking at Bruce. "So let's move away from any topic about him. How're you doing in school, Jason?"
"I do fine. Except math."
"Yeah, I'm a mathlete, I can teach you."
Fuck you, golden boy. Jason does know, both from school and from stray conversations in the manor or Wayne Tower, that Dick Grayson, before whatever happened with Bruce, is quite a perfect child. He's nice, good-looking, smart, participates in many club activities, yada yada.
Jason puts his fork and knife down. "I don't need your help. I do fine on my own!"
A pause, then Bruce intervenes. "Jay--"
Dick lifts his hand up. "Shut up. I can deal with this without you." Then he looks directly at Jason. "Jason, I am sorry for my attitude earlier. Honestly, I put the beef I have with this guy," he's pointing at Bruce with a knife, "on you. Dick move. I know. Since I'm Dick."
"Did you just make a terrible pun of your name?"
Dick smiles. "You're gonna hear so many puns, kiddo."
Dick brings him to one room Jason has never been in before. It's a ballroom turned into a sort-of jungle gym in half of the room, with an area with a fucking trapeze attached on top.
"What are you, a monkey?" Jason comments.
"I'd prefer a bird," Dick says. "This is my natural environment. Better knowing you here than at the pristine dinner table."
"So you really are a monkey."
"Well, can you catch up with this monkey?"
Dick does a complicated mix of parkour and gymnastics, pushing himself up, up, up without pausing until he reaches the top.
Sick move.
"How're you doing in school? Did anyone pester you?"
Jason shrugs. "Why do I need to tell you?"
Dick does a complicated flip and goes down to the ground again (really, sick move).
"'Cause I know what being a Bruce Wayne kid is like. Somebody wants to be friends with you to make a connection. Somebody wants to cut your legs off for daring to be in their school even though you're a dirty gypsy."
Jason swallows hard.
"So it happened," Dick says, seeming angry. Not angry at Jason, but angry for Jason.
Jason shrugs again. "I can handle it. It's not much. Some taunting. Some name-calling. I ignore it."
"And have you started making friends?"
Jason shrugs, thrice now. "Who wants to be friends with a street rat on a charity case with a target on their back? I have nice teachers. That's enough."
Dick's anger is even stronger. He takes a deep breath. Long 4-second inhale. Pause. 4-second exhale.
"What are you doing?"
"Box breathing. Rav--Rachel, my friend, taught me to try this before acting with anger." He releases a deep breath. "Because it's clear that someone said 'street rat on a charity case' to you."
Jason shrugs (four times. Yes. He knows).
"Jason. I'll be on your side," Dick says, with a sincerity in his eyes. "Well, Bruce and Alfred are already on your side. But let's say from now on, I'm on your side. Opposite of any stupid moronic shit that wants to hurt you. You tell me. You consult with me. I'll do anything I can. Or even just listen to you if you want. Bruce doesn't know about this yet, I guess?"
Jason wants to shrug for the nth time. But this Dickhead's sincerity has started to get to him. "...No. I don't wanna bother him with this. As I said, I'm fine."
Dick slowly touches his shoulder. "You being fine doesn't mean you have to deal with this alone, Jason."
Jason decides to give Dick a small, wordless nod, which Dick answers with a bright smile. Ugh. How can he radiate an aura like that? Is Dick a meta?
"Hey, since we're here, let me teach you some Ro--acrobatic moves. It'll be useful in PE. And even though you are small, being great at PE will make you less of a target."
"I'm not small!"
It takes some adjustment and guidance from Dick, but Jason learns a new cool move to reach the top like Dick too. Dick looks impressed, and Jason can't stop his chest from puffing up.
Some conversations that happen without Jason.
"...the kid is very talented, B."
"Hmph."
"Being talented doesn't mean you can consider giving Robin to him. But I do understand why it's tempting. He doesn't even have a background like mine."
"No one has a background like you, Dick."
"Lemme finish. He's a fast learner with great body coordination. And he seems smart."
"He really is. If you see how fast he caught up with school after four years of absence. Nevertheless, the boy is so happy with the 'normal' life."
"You won't even consider telling him? About this part of our life?"
"Let him settle a bit more, Dick. By the way, um, will you come back next weekend? To see him?"
"...Fine."
Suddenly, Dick Grayson becomes another constant in Jason's life. He has someone to complain to about school (and Bruce, or he becomes someone Dick can complain about Bruce). He has someone to play with on weekends. During Bruce's half-month Spain trip, Dick is his guardian. Dick teaches him how to play many sports and how to train his body. Dude is so... athletic. He knows Dick is from a famous acrobat/gymnast family, but some moves Dick shows him are definitely Olympic-level moves, not just in gymnastics either.
"Kiddo, I know you love books, but please come out and move, or you will start rotting in this library."
Jason, now with Dick to push him to be more active and Alfred's hearty meals, starts getting taller and wider. His height is gonna pass the 50th percentile for his age. While currently (admittedly) still small compared to other boys, Jason does exceptionally well in PE. Classmates call him more and more to join their team, and the teacher starts suggesting he join a sports club.
Of course, Jason chooses the nerdiest club there is: the D&D club.
Dick looks at his choice questioningly, until Jason starts to educate him about the depth of TTRPGs. The worldbuilding, the imagination, the knowledge, the teamwork, and a fucking long-ass list of good ethics to make a good D&D table. Dick finally relents. Dick himself tried to play a small session with Jason, but Dick is too distracted for the TTRPG world. So this is Jason's hobby and his hobby alone, which he's fine with. He starts getting friends from the club, too. He prefers to be a buff nerd instead of a jock.
Dick lifts his phone one evening, and makes a face. "Ugh, B is coming back the day after tomorrow."
"Really?" Jason asks brightly, then his face gets red. Dick snickers.
"You're cute. I'm glad Bruce is good to you." He makes a big pause. "Bruce used to be good to me, until he wasn't."
"What happened?" Jason asks.
"You don't need to know... but Bruce is actually a very insecure man about family, Jason. Now I have more time to think. I understand him a bit more even though I still won't forgive his past actions yet. Bruce's worst side emerges when he fears you're gonna go to a place he can't be, which is the basics of growing up, really."
Jason thinks. It's hard for him to imagine. "Bruce rarely says no to me. He's borderline spoiling me rotten until I need to stop him."
"Oh, he always spoils his kids rotten. But sometimes he provides for you to the point that it reaches the line of thinking for you." Dick sighs. "But I'll be there when that happens, not like my younger self, Little Wing."
Dick's phone beeps again. Dick makes a face again. "As I thought, he wants me to report on what we have been doing. You zealot."
Jason observes his... brother. "Have you really not talked to him for a year?"
"Huh?"
"Your interaction, while it has huge animosity, you don't interact with him like people who haven't contacted each other for a long time. But you both say you didn't talk to each other for a year," Jason explains his reasoning.
"That's because we have to meet at ni--I mean, at work. He and I sometimes have to talk in a professional capacity before this," Dick stutters.
Jason tilts his head. "You said you're a barista?"
"Um, ah, er, I do still have continuous work with Wayne Charity. So I still meet him sometimes."
"Oh. So this month is the first time you two talked outside of work?"
"Yes, yeah, yes."
Some conversations that happen without Jason.
"Welcome back, I guess. The boy is sharp as hell, Bruce! He may not be able to state logic in steps like you, but he's observant."
"Hmm. He's talented, as I said."
"Tell him."
A pause. "No."
"Bruce, you eventually have to tell him. Even if he doesn't care about being Robin, he should know. He adores you."
"Dick, he just got his life back. He's so different from you. You seek the life of a hero. Jason seeks the life of a normal boy. I don't want to interrupt his dream."
With Jason starting to do really well in school, Bruce decides it's time for Jason to enter another part of the Wayne family.
The public. The press. The gala.
Dick appears with them. He says it's to show the press that the family is still strong, but Jason knows Dick is there for Jason, and he's secretly grateful for that.
"Don't respond to what they're shouting, and follow Bruce, not me. Bruce will lead you to the journalists that he has approved," Dick whispers in the car.
"And you?"
Dick smirks. "I draw all sorts of sharks, Jason. Let me deal with them."
With that, Dick opens their limo door, the flash peaking around. Dick greets the press with grace effortlessly. ("Hello, do you miss me? Do I look good? Hey Ryan, right? How are--")
Bruce looks at Dick's back with exasperated endearment. He reaches for Jason's shoulder. "Follow me, Jay-lad."
Bruce starts giving him funny nicknames. Like he calls Dick chum.
Jason nods and follows him. He almost shows his startle at the flashing cameras and shouts.
"Jason! Hello there, Jason!"
"Jason Wayne! Look here!"
Ugh. He's Jason Todd, man.
"Jason, do you think you're a replacement for Richie?"
Screw you.
Bruce's hand on his shoulder is a little bit tighter. "Hello! Don't swarm my boy!" Bruce becomes Brucie, whom Jason hasn't seen for so long. "He's gonna think you're all gonna bite," he laughs, but quickly ushers Jason to a pair of reporters that are separated from the horde. A giant man that is even taller than Bruce, with thick glasses, and a smaller red-haired man with freckles.
And the world now knows him as one of the Waynes.