Chapter Text
It was a mistake.
Bruce should have realized that fact as soon as the matter was proposed in the monthly JLA meeting, but the truth was that he hadn’t wanted to. Jason was doing so well. He’d been a solid member of the Gotham vigilante community for going on two years. He’d stayed out of trouble as well as any former Robin could, that was to say not at all, but at least the Red Hood was respected as a hero and no longer condemned as a villain.
And possibly even better than Jason’s progress from villain to hero, was Jason’s progress from estrangement to established family member. Bruce was finally at a point in his relationship with his second son that he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat with nightmares of it all falling to ruin. Jason was comfortable, he was committed, he was reliable in a way Bruce had dreamed as being possible but rarely dared hope for. Even with all of the reasons Jason had to be angry at and resentful of Batman, of the world in general, he’d chosen of his own accord to let that go for something better and Bruce was so proud of him for that. It wasn’t instant and it wasn’t easy, but after all this time, Jason’s effort and sacrifice should be recognized and rewarded.
He thought this could act as something to that effect. And if it didn’t appeal, Jason always had the option to say no. Many had in the past, including Jason’s close friend Roy Harper.
So one evening after patrol, Bruce dismissed everyone from the cave except for Red Hood. His other children trundled up to the manor with varying levels of drowsiness as Jason waited, cooling his heels by idly spinning in one of the desk chairs at the bat-computer. He was an intimidating young man at the best of times and even the absence of his weapons and leather jacket, thrown over the back of the chair, the arms fluttering as he spun, didn’t exactly help. Red Hood was all black body-armor and tactical gear over a body every bit as honed and skilled as Batman’s. Perhaps he should have given Jason a chance to change out of his uniform, if only for Bruce’s nerves, but he didn’t anticipate a fight so it didn’t exactly matter.
“So what’s this about, old man?” Jason asked, a curious quirk of his head, disturbing the lock of white in his hair. Jason’s tone was casual, but Bruce was familiar enough with his son to recognize an edge of anxiety at being singled out. Bruce figured he deserved that. When he took the time to speak as Batman with one of his children, he rarely had good news.
“As you know,” Bruce began, “last night I attended a JLA meeting. A number of matters were decided.”
“Okay,” Jason acknowledged, and by his carefully controlled expression he was suspicious. Despite their growing closeness, Jason was always certain he was one mistake away from ejection from Gotham and exile from the family. That was Bruce’s failing, as a leader, as a father. He hoped what he had to present to Jason would go some way toward relieving those feelings.
“One of those matters was candidates for membership,” Bruce explained. “Jason, the JLA would like to formally invite the Red Hood to join the ranks of the Justice League Alliance.”
For a moment Jason stared at him, large hands gripping tight to the arms of the chair, the flickering of a muscle in his temple above his sea glass-green eyes revealing the rapidity with which his mind was analyzing Bruce’s words.
“I…what?” he finally asked, mouth drawn into a frown. “Is this…is this a joke?” Jason’s words held a hint of anger, as if sensing this were a trick to hurt him, even if he couldn’t see how.
Bruce shook his head. “Not at all. Diana nominated you, Green Arrow and Black Canary supported the nomination.”
Jason raised a brow, surprised. “Ollie did? I didn’t think he liked me very much.”
“He doesn’t exactly like Batman, either,” Bruce reminded him with a slight smile.
Bruce’s reward for opening up was a wide smirk of amusement that took over Jason’s face and reminded him of his son’s Robin days.
Jason chuckled, “Well you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, B.”
“Hn,” he hummed.
Jason stood up from the computer chair and took a few steps as if to find room to breathe, a hand rising to rub at the back of his neck, his lips tight with difficult thoughts.
After some consideration, Jason looked up at Bruce, his casual facade brittle and showing it’s cracks as he asked, “Why didn’t you nominate me? Is it because…you don’t think I’m good enough? Do you not want this?”
Despite the straight way in which Jason asked the question, Bruce knew this was important to him, knew the answer had the potential to break him wide open.
Bruce took a step closer and put a hand on Jason’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Pouring as much sincerity into his voice as he could, he assured his son, “Jay, you are absolutely good enough. You’ve proven it time and again. I didn’t nominate you only because I didn’t want to show favoritism towards my child, and because it simply wasn’t necessary. I can’t deny you’ve been unpredictable in the past, but the work you’ve been putting in the last year shows. You’ve been on the short list for a while now.”
Jason’s voice cracked slightly as he said, “O-oh…” and ran a hand throw his hair in a gesture of anxiety. “I…it’s not like I ever wanted this, ya know?”
Bruce nodded. “I know.”
Jason swallowed and weakly shrugged off Bruce’s hand, gaze moving to look somewhere over his shoulder at the cave wall, maybe trying to convince himself of the fact as he stumbled over the words, “It’s not like I care if you…if they…”
But Jason didn’t need to convince Bruce of his self-sufficiency. He knew Jason was a strong person who did what he thought was right no matter the potential for risk or reward to either himself or his reputation. Jason would give up anything, anyone, even his family, even himself, if he thought it would save innocent lives. Bruce knew that—admired him for that. Jason didn’t have anything to prove to Bruce on that score. Accepting or rejecting the offer wouldn’t change that.
“You have every ability to turn down this invitation, Jason,” Bruce said, trying to explain, trying to reassure his son of his own strength. “I know you’ve never expressed an interest in joining the League, but I believe—the League believes—that you would be a valuable asset. Whether or not you want this, doesn’t change that you deserve it. You don’t have to decide now, and I’m here if you have any questions. I’m sure Dick, Barbara and Cassandra would love to talk about their experiences in the League as well, if you wanted to.”
Jason nodded vaguely. “I think I pretty much know everything. I’ve seen it from the outside for years.”
“True.” Of that Bruce had no doubts, he just wanted Jason to know he had resources to help him make a decision.
Jason sighed and looked up at the darkness of the cave ceiling as Bruce hovered, in case he was needed for something, anything. He didn’t know what Jason could need from him, but he wanted to be there to give it.
“I want to do it, I think,” Jason said, appearing surprised at his own words, as if he hadn’t realized that desire was in him until he’d voiced it. “Gotham’s got a lot of vigilantes these days. The Outlaws are kind of defunct, to be honest. So…why not, ya know?”
Jason looked back at Bruce, his gaze intense as it always was, filled with passion and intelligence as he searched Bruce’s face, trying to guess at his opinion.
Bruce simply nodded. “If that’s what you want. I trust your decisions, Jay.”
At his words, Jason’s expression slid into shock, eyes wide and vulnerable as he repeated, “You tru-trust…”
Halfway through the word Jason’s voice cracked and his composure broke. His shoulders wilted inward and a hand hastily moved to conceal his eyes as they started to glisten with moisture. Jason’s jaw became tight with tension, his lower lip quivering with the effort to remain silent as the tears began to fall down his cheek. Bruce felt a clenching in his heart and stepped forward, his own hands rising uselessly as he hesitated, trying to decide if this was a moment when Jason would want to be touched.
Luckily Jason took the decision away from him when he surprised Bruce by falling against his chest and wrapping him in a tight hug. Giving in to his own feelings, Bruce returned the embrace, squeezing closely the body that was now of a size with his own but which he could still remember being so small. They didn’t do this very often. Bruce couldn’t even remember the last time he’d held his second son, but he was suddenly aware that he wanted to do it more, and perhaps optimistically, he thought that opportunity was one Jason might be open to.
But for the time being, he just hugged Jason and combed his fingers through his son’s hair and let him break down so he could build himself back up better. For so long Jason had seen himself as broken. For nearly as long Bruce had seen him as broken. But Jason hadn’t been broken, he was just deeply hurt, and though the scars would always remain his son had healed. He’d thought of Jason that way for a while now. Maybe with this, Jason would start to see it too.
In the moment, none of this felt like a mistake, it felt like a wonderful gift. Perhaps 'mistake’ was too harsh a word, because Bruce didn’t actually regret any of what took place this night. And truth to tell, he regretted little of what happened after as well. What he did know was with this decision, Bruce’s life had become condemned to a new level of misery.
Because by this time tomorrow, half of the Justice League would be in love or lust with Jason Todd.