Next Step

by Romiress

Summary:

With everyone back where they want to be, the family needs time to settle in and adjust to their new additions.

Joey and Thomas, on the other hand, have a whole new world to come to terms with.

Notes:

I have been extremely lucky in the audience I have. I've received tons of amazing comments, and some of those comments have come with included a whole set of fanart. I wanted to include a few here:

Chapter 6 of Skipped a Few Steps by Inihiu
General Skipped a Few Steps by Lord_Chirayoju
Chapter 50 of Slipped Sideways by Orange-Mimosa
Chapter 52 of Slipped Sideways by Orange-Mimosa

Thank you to everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoy this part!

Chapter 1

Jason is on his feet before he even registers what's actually happening. It's instinctual, a conditioned response to years living at the manor. Alarm goes off, and that means it's time to go.

This time, at least, he knows what the alarm means. The alarm means Slade and Bruce have come back. It means they're done waiting.

Jason bolts out of his office as fast as his legs will carry him.

He reaches the cave door (left open for exactly this reason) in record time, taking the stairs three at a time. Behind him, he can hear the scratch of nails on the floor as Titus shoots down the hallway, no doubt just ahead of Damian.

"Dick!" Jason hollers. "Report?"

He's pretty sure Dick's supposed to be on watch, and he's rewarded by an indignant noise that he'd recognize anywhere.

"I think they came through!"

"You think?" Jason yells back.

He hits the bottom of the stairs and spots Dick already heading for the holding cell. He spots Slade there, separated from them by bars, and there's no question about which Slade it is. He's in the suit they sent him over in, rather than the street clothes they made his counterpart wear.

His backpack looks the same as it did before, but it's the appearance of a bright red roller suitcase at his side which throws Jason off the most. When he spares a glance to Slade's face, he doesn't get the happy recognition he's expecting.

No, Slade looks absolutely terrified. He looks like he's about to be sick, and Jason knows deep down that it has nothing to do with portal sickness.

"Let me out," Slade says, "right now." His voice sounds strained. Jason can't remember the last time he heard him sound like that. He's not sure he ever did.

Dick's already popping open the cell, and the moment the door starts to open Slade wastes no time in shoving it open, brushing right past them as he heads for the computer. He seems panicked, operating a mile a minute without even a moment for a hug and a round of welcome backs.

Slade slaps his hand down to authenticate the highest alert level he can manage. It'll summon everyone in the vicinity to the cave, and put people as far as the west coast on high alert.

Jason can't tell if it's an overreaction.

"It's fine!" Dick yells, scrambling over to the computer. "Bruce should just be upstairs-"

"Slade!" Bruce yells down the stairs with Damian at his side. He sounds just as terrified as Slade does, which in turn is making Jason panicked. Everything seems fine. They're both there and intact. So the fact that both of them are acting like the world is ending is extremely alarming.

Clark's already there, flying close to the ceiling as he shoots down into the cave, and there's a mad scramble near the top of the cave as everyone pours out of their rooms, following the alert and the alarm. Barry zips through the scramble, stopping just beside Jason and looking at him expectantly.

Jason can only shrug.

"Clark!" Slade yells, holding his hands up. "Fly me, now!"

Clark does not stop to ask for explanations. He zips down, scooping Slade up, and blasts out of the cave at top speed. Clark obviously has no idea where they're going, but he's operating on pure adrenaline as Slade directs him.

Bruce slaps a cancelation for the alarm, completely ignoring the half dozen questions being thrown at him, and Jason is not prepared for him to scramble into the storage room, digging around frantically.

"Bruce," Jason says. "Jesus, what the hell is going on? What are you doing?"

"Emergency," Bruce snaps. "Talk later."

He grabs a shovel, shoving it into Barry's hands. Barry looks absolutely bewildered— he barely even looks awake for that matter—but takes it anyway.

"Second grave from the right, out back, dig it up and open it."

"What?!" Barry says.

"What?!" More or less everyone else says.

"Now!" Bruce says in his most commanding I'm-Batman voice, and it works because Barry zips away.

Bruce is already going after him.

"Are you going to explain what the hell is going on?" Jason says, jogging after him. "What the fuck?"

"We brought people back with us," Bruce says. "And if they weren't with us, then there's a good chance they're with their counterparts."

"Hold on," Jason says. "You brought people back?!"

In the distance, Jason can see chunks of dirt flying into the air as Barry speed digs the grave. Second from the right is...

"Thomas?" Jason chokes. "You brought back Thomas Wayne?! Isn't he dead?"

He was really, really hoping for a nice little family reunion. Even if it's barely been forty-eight hours since they last saw them, it's been closer to four days since they actually had a moment to relax.

"It's a different Thomas Wayne," Bruce says, which is right around the time that they get close enough to hear the banging. Not just the sounds of Barry's frantic digging, but a loud, desperate banging as something hits against the lid of a coffin.

Dick curses, and Jason glances behind him to spot everyone else currently staying at the house making their way across the lawn. Titus is bounding towards them, with Damian, Tim, Jon, Lois, Diana, and Roy following close behind. There's no sign of Alfred, and Jason suspects he's chosen to handle things in the house.

Barry cracks open the coffin as they reach the side of the hole, and a man—apparently Thomas Wayne—sits bolt upright, gasping for air.

Bruce hops down into the grave, grabbing the man by the arm and helping him to his feet. Jason's having a hard time getting a first impression beyond looks pretty alarmed. He supposes that's justified, considering he just woke up in his own grave, but it's definitely coloring his perception of things.

"It's fine," Bruce says. "We've got you."

Thomas drags a hand down his face, clearly needing a moment to catch his breath, and Diana leans over the edge as Barry climbs out.

"Perhaps getting him out of there would be ideal?" She asks, offering a hand.

Thomas looks up at her and seems to recoil, repulsed by something Jason can't understand.

"Up," Bruce says, and helps Thomas Wayne out anyway.

Jason doesn't hesitate to hop down himself, leaning down to inspect the coffin.

"Empty," Jason says. "Pretty sure you just shot our Thomas Wayne back where you came from." He doesn't wait for confirmation before he climbs right back out. He's not eager to hang around a coffin like that.

"What about the kid?" Thomas asks. He sounds almost as panicked as Bruce does. "Where is he?"

"Who the hell else did you bring back?!" Jason asks, rifling through a mental list. People not at the manor who might have wanted to come back. People-

Joey.

Joseph Wilson.

There's absolutely no question in his mind from the moment he thinks it. It explains the sheer terror. It explains the need for Clark to fly him without even asking questions. Slade is living out his worst nightmare all over again: His son dying and him being too slow to save him.

"He should have... he should have hours," Jason says quickly. "Maybe." He doesn't believe that. The you have hours worth of air fact only takes into account the freshly buried. It doesn't take into account the rot that must have happened, poisoning the air.

"I'm sorry," Barry says. "Who?"

"I'm more curious as to how many," Diana says. "And what exactly is going on."

Bruce hasn't let go of Thomas's arm, and Thomas doesn't really look like he's relaxing either.

"Two," Bruce says, even if it sounds strained. "Thomas and Joey. He's buried in Indiana. I'm not sure..."

He trails off, the explanation clear.

"Where in Indiana?" Barry asks. "I'm going."

Jason rattles off the address and he's pretty sure Barry's gone before he even finishes.

He's not sure he's fast enough. He's not sure Clark is fast enough.

Jason buries his face in his hands and tries to breath as the seconds tick by. There's nothing they can do until they know the answer. There's things they should be doing, and yet none of them are willing to move as they wait.

Lois's phone rings, and she very nearly drops the phone in her haste to answer.

"Clark?" She says. It's silent for a moment as she listens, and then she breathes a sigh of relief.

"They got him," she says. "He's fine. Just shaken. Clark says he's going to deal with the cemetary staff and then they'll come back a bit slower than they got there in the first place."

"I'm pretty sure Clark's top speed would peel the flesh off anyone who didn't have Slade's enhancements," Roy says. "I've seen how fast he can go."

The immediate crisis is over, and Jason can't make himself wait any longer. He walks right over, throwing his arms around Bruce, and is relieved when Bruce lets go of Thomas to hug him back.

"You scared us," Jason mutters into his shoulder. "Don't go... don't go wandering the multiverse again, alright?"

Bruce hugs him tightly, and Damian, Dick, and Tim cue up just behind him for their designated hugs.

"Hold on," Bruce says as he breaks the hug, turning his attention to where Diana, Roy, Lois, and Jon stand. "Thank you all for your help, but I'm hoping for-"

"Some privacy," Diana says. "Understandable. We were staying near by to ensure that Deathstroke did not escape, but assuming he is gone and not returning, I think we are safe to return to our normal lives."

"He's gone," Jason says, glancing towards Bruce, who offers a solemn nod.

"He won't be back," Bruce says. "Their Clark was waiting for him on the other end."

"Barry and I were going to go tour the city," Roy says. "I'll give him a call and we can go tour around."

"We'll need to have a meeting before long," Diana adds, "but I think you need a little while to yourselves."

Jason glances to Damian, but Jon's beat him to it, already pulling a protesting Damian into a hug with a quick I'm happy your dads are back before he heads off with his mother.

Thomas seems to have relaxed a bit in the minutes since his rescue, but he still doesn't look terribly comfortable.

"Why don't we go up to the manor," Bruce says. "Slade can meet us there."

Jason can't fucking wait to hear all this explained.

Chapter 2

The sight of Thomas Wayne coming up the step is apparently sufficient to topple Alfred over, because when they reach the manor they find him leaning up against the wall, eyes wide and confused.

Jason heads right to him, helping him upright, and Alfred makes a small noise of distress in response.

"Mister Wayne...?" He asks, looking absolutely bewildered.

Thomas doesn't seem to recognize him immediately, and it's only after a few seconds of awkward staring that there's any recognition in his eyes.

It's at that point that Jason recognizes what he's wearing. He'd been so distracted by who Thomas is that he hasn't managed to actually take a good look at him.

For one thing, he's not as old as he should be. Thomas should be as old as Alfred, if not older. Instead he looks only a bit older than Slade, his hair turned gray but without the wrinkles that Jason would expect.

For another, he's wearing what is unmistakably a Batman suit. It's different from the ones he's used to (too much red, weird shoulder spikes), but it's the red holsters on his thighs that draw Jason's attention.

"Hold on," Jason says. "He's Batman with guns?"

"You only just noticed?" Dick asks, raising an eyebrow. "I've been gawking since like... the moment we saw him."

"I had other things on my mind!" Jason protests. "Holy hell, Bruce. You went to another dimension and came back with your own dad?!"

Bruce pinches at the bridge of his nose.

"I was hoping we could have this conversation sitting down when Slade gets back."

"I'd like to change," Thomas says. "Nothing they had fit me, and my civilian clothes-"

"I'm sure I have something that will fit," Alfred says. "If you'll come this way..."

He gestures down towards the guest rooms, and Jason watches Thomas go as he follows Alfred away.

"I want my hug," Damian says the moment he's gone.

Bruce makes up for the delay by giving him an extra long, extra tight one, and then does the same for Tim and Dick.

"I've missed you boys," he says. "I don't think you'll ever know how much."

"Let me just tell you," Tim says, "alternate Bruce isn't half as fun as you are."

Bruce's expression looks pained, and Jason ducks into the kitchen to grab him a big glass of water. Bruce drains it in one go, and Dick grabs the glass before Jason can, heading back to the kitchen.

"Do we have-" Bruce starts, before faltering, glancing around, and trying again. "Is there anything urgent I need to know? Before anything else?"

"I mean, we learned lots," Jason says, "but I think the whole 'I brought two people back' thing takes priority. Weren't you not supposed to? Wasn't that a thing?"

"It was a risky thing," Bruce says. "We decided it was worth the risk. If they were left behind, then they were left behind, but we felt they deserved a chance to try."

Jason reaches up, dragging his hand through his hair, and forces himself to exhale.

Tim's phone beeps, and he checks it quickly.

"That's Clark," he says. "Probably."

"Not sure who else would be flying through our air space," Dick says.

Jason is expecting Slade to show up in the living room, but instead they get only Clark, leaning in the doorway and glancing around like he's expecting to find Thomas.

"Bruce," Clark says with a nod. "Good to see you back. I'm going to meet Lois back at home, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

"Slade?" Bruce asks.

"They - ah, Joseph wanted to take a shower. His experience wasn't really pleasant, and I think he might need a bit to adjust. Slade's staying with him."

Jason tries not to feel too anxious, but the feeling's there anyway, unwilling to go away.

"Of course," Bruce says. "I'll do introductions and everything when we do a meeting. Maybe in... the next few days."

"Today is for family," Clark says with an understanding nod. "I'll be going."

He leaves the way he came, and Bruce sags back into his seat.

"It's not even ten AM," he says, "and it's already been a long day."

"Right now," Jason says, "Dick and Tim are both staying at the manor. Barbara and Jackson are at home, as are most of our allies. Barry and Roy have been staying at the manor, helping keep things in line, and Diana, Clark, Lois, and Jon have been in and out. Lois thought Damian might want a friend around."

Damian scowls at him, even though he knows it's true.

"Honestly," Dick says, "you might want to shower too. Just... take a minute to adjust."

Bruce blinks at Dick like the thought hadn't occurred to him, and then cracks a smile.

"Is this your way of saying I smell?"

Dick rolls his eyes in response.

"If we're all doing that," Jason says, "I want to go check in with Slade."

"Try not to crowd them," Bruce says. "Just... one at a time."

"I-" Damian starts to say, and Jason cuts him off.

"I need to talk to Slade and check in," he says. "You can go after."

Damian huffs at him, but doesn't protest.

Bruce picks himself off the couch, dragging his hand through his hair as he does.

"I have-" he starts, faltering after only a moment. "There's a bag downstairs. It has Joey's things, and-"

"We'll handle it," Tim says. "Go shower. Maybe take a bath. Use some of those bath salts Barbara is always giving you."

Bruce humphs at that, but finally heads to the door.

Jason doesn't let him, pulling him in for another hug. He's not quite emotionally ready for Bruce to bury his face in his shoulder, but he does anyway.

It hurts to hear Bruce make a noise that is almost a sob against him.

"Rest," Jason says. "And when you get back we can have that big family meeting you want and do all the introductions, alright?"

Jason wants those introductions. He wants that explanation for... for any of it. For all of it.

What the hell happened?

Bruce breaks the hug, taking a deep breath. He looks lost in thought as he reaches up, brushing Jason's hair out of his eyes.

"I'm proud of you," he says, which seems so completely without context that Jason can only squint at him.

"Allllright," Jason says carefully. "Go take your bath."

He scoots Bruce out as he goes, and Damian falls in just behind him.

Jason spares a glance over his shoulder, and Damian scowls at him.

"I will wait in the hall," Damian says. "But don't hog him."

"No promises," Jason says as he heads down the guest hall.

It's not hard to figure out where they are. He knows where everyone's staying, and all the empty rooms are supposed to be left open. Two aren't, and one has Alfred outside, so Jason points to the other door and glances to him.

"Slade?" He asks.

"Inside," he says.

Jason knocks, waits to hear Slade's confirmation, and then peeks in.

The bathroom door is closed, and Slade's sitting heavily on the bed. He looks like he needs a shower himself, smudged with dirt, but when he glances up and spots Jason his face lights up.

Maybe things aren't going to be so bad. 

"How're you feeling?" Jason asks as he heads over, fully planning to sit down beside Slade. He doesn't get a chance. Instead, Slade pulls him in, burying his face against Jason's shoulder and holding him tight.

That pretty much answers the question, and Jason isn't quite prepared for Slade to be so... so needy. Because it's a desperate, sad hold as Slade clings to him, as if he's worried that Jason's going to fade away at any second.

"I'm right here, dad," Jason says quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Slade doesn't say anything, curling against him as he works through whatever is going through his head. Jason can imagine a lot of it, but there's also so much more that he's sure he can't even guess at.

"Damian's waiting in the hall," Jason says. "He wanted to see you."

"Just yell at him to come in," Slade mumbles. "I've got two arms."

Damian pops his head in, making it very clear he's probably been leaning against the door listening in (no doubt to Alfred's intense disapproval). Slade waves him over, and sits up a bit straighter, pulling Jason against one side and Damian against the other as he refuses to let either go.

"I missed you guys," he says. "I missed you a lot."

Damian doesn't usually get quite so affectionate, but it's a bit of an exceptional situation, and he wastes no time in making sure Slade knows just how much he's missed him.

"Where's your father?" Slade asks Jason overtop of Damian's head.

"Showering," he says. "Alfred's babysitting your other bonus passenger. You should be showering too."

Slade grunts.

"So should you," he says. "I got dirt on you."

"I'll change before we do the big family meeting," Jason says. "Go see your husband."

Slade grunts again.

"Have to wait for Joey," he says. "I'm the only person he really knows."

"He knows us," Damian points out. "Assuming you showed him the proper videos."

"That's not the same as an introduction," Slade says.

"Has it occurred to you that he might already be done?" Damian points out. The house is soundproofed well enough that they can't hear the shower running even if it is on, and it's entirely possible that Joseph's standing on the other side of the door, unsure on what to do.

Slade carefully extracts himself from the tangle of limbs, heading to the door.

"Joey?" He says. "You- Right, fuck."

He knocks instead, and a moment later Joseph knocks back and the door cracks open.

Jason knows what to expect. He's seen a picture of him before. But seeing him in person is... something else entirely.

"I'll do proper introductions later," Slade says. "But this is Jason and Damian. Both of which you... sort of know, I guess."

Slade sounds almost embarrassed to admit it.

"I need to take a shower," he admits. "Can I leave you with them...?"

That's fine, Joseph signs. I'll see you soon.

Slade hesitates, but does finally leave them alone, ducking out the door to head back to his room on the far side of the house.

Joseph's wearing a collared shirt, but from where Jason sits he can see hints of a thick, jagged scar across his throat. With what he knows of this world's Joseph, combined with the signing, he has a pretty clear idea of what's going on.

"Do we need to sign?" Damian asks, glancing between Jason and Joseph.

Just mute, Joseph signs. You can talk. Or I can use my voice if that helps things.

"Signing is fine," Jason says. "We're basically all fluent." He knows all the bats are, because it's relatively common to have to sign mid-mission in silence, but he's less sure about their various associates. Are the League?

He figures it probably doesn't matter either way. Not right then, anyway.

"You want a tour?" Jason asks. "We can show you around. It's mostly the same as the other one, but a few things are different."

He's not even sure if he's been around the other mansion.

Joseph nods, straightening up, and Jason waves him into the hallway to start the tour.

Chapter 3

It turns out Joseph does know his way around the manor, at least in general terms. He knows where the kitchen is, and the main entrance to the cave. Jason doesn't go over every detail, but he does leave Joseph with Damian as he ducks into his own room, peeling off his dirty shirt and grabbing a t-shirt instead.

He doesn't even realize it's the Batman T-shirt Tim got him until he's back in the hall, getting a snort from Damian.

Titus heads right for Joseph, but swerves at the last minute when Damian clicks his tongue.

"We've got a dog," Jason says. "This is Titus. There's also a cat, who's... somewhere."

"Portia is in my room," Damian says. "Barry Allen kept scaring her."

I'm fine with dogs, Joseph signs. Just not used to them.

They reach the living room, and Jason spots Dick, Tim, Alfred, and Thomas settled in on the couch in quiet conversation.

"Master Jason," Alfred says, standing immediately. "Hopefully you have everything you need...?"

Alfred blinks at them, and Jason's half-turned just in time to catch Joseph signing bag .

"It was placed in one of the guest rooms," Alfred says. "I did not wish to disturb you, so I opted to place it in a different one. Third from the right. I believe discussing sleeping arrangements will be part of Master Bruce's plans. We have quite a full house right now."

"Half the League's staying with us," Jason says. "Clark can't exactly put them up in his little apartment."

"Which members of the league...?" Thomas asks, sounding a bit stiff.

It's hard to tell. Jason's having a hard time getting a good read on him, but at the very least Thomas looks less offputting wearing normal clothes. They don't fit him perfectly, but they're close enough that he doesn't look totally weird.

Jason's just too used to Bruce and Slade wearing tailored clothes.

"Right now?" Dick says. "Flash and Arsenal."

"Arsenal?" Thomas asks, raising his eyebrows. "I thought this was a no gun household."

Thomas's guns are mysteriously missing, and Jason wonders if Alfred confiscated them.

"He uses a bow," Jason says. "And a bunch of gadgets. No guns."

Thomas frowns at that, but he seems to have relaxed slightly.

Slade pops his head in, and then lets out a sigh of relief.

"Just missing Bruce?" He says. "He'll be here in a minute."

He slides into the room himself, giving a snort when he spots Jason's shirt.

Jason sinks down onto the couch between Tim and Dick, and Damian grabs a spot on the floor. Joseph stands, sticking close to Slade, and Thomas sits by himself in an armchair not far from Alfred.

Bruce doesn't make them wait, his hair still wet.

"Am I last?" He says, with a quick glance around.

"I could get Porti-" Damian starts.

"Nope," Tim says. "Portia is definitely not needed. If anything, it'd be me getting Barb, but she's busy right now."

"Busy?" Bruce asks, eyebrows going up.

"Playdate with a friend of Jackson," Tim says.

"Jackson is the...?" Thomas asks, leaning forward slightly.

Slade and Joseph are having a quiet conversation, but it falters when Joseph digs out a cellphone, setting it onto the table.

When a voice comes through, strong and clear, Jason realizes it's his voice.

"Sorry if this is weird," Joseph says via the phone. "This works better in a group setting than sign."

"It's fine," Tim says. "So, uh, introductions?"

Everyone glances between the two new arrivals, and Joseph goes first.

"Joseph Wilson," he says. "Or... Joey's probably better. I'm... the Slade from the other dimension's son."

"I see we're back to single surnames," Alfred says, looking amused.

"Thomas Wayne," Thomas says. "Bruce's father."

"From another dimension," Bruce clarifies. "Not the same one Joey's from. Thomas's home dimension is... significantly different from either our own or Joey's."

"I'm Dick Grayson-Wayne," Dick says, which gets a look of surprise from Joey.

"Damian Thomas Wayne-Wilson," Damian says, going out of his way to make his middle name very clear.

"Tim Drake Wayne-Gordon," Tim says. "Barbara and Jackson are Gordon-Waynes."

"Jason Wilson-Wayne," Jason says. He doesn't think his middle name particularly matters, but he supposes he has a lot less attachment to it than most others.

"Slade Joseph Wilson-Wayne."

"Bruce Thomas Wayne-Wilson."

"I dare say that there are ten of you and only eight names between you," Alfred says with a laugh.

Thomas looks like he's going to need a map for how they're all connected.

"So," Jason says. "Third dimension? That's what we're talking about here?"

"I jumped to the last dimension when my own was destroyed," Thomas says. "Bruce was kind enough to allow me to come along when I asked."

"There's a lot of explanations we need to do," Bruce says. "But if possible, I'd like to... put a moratorium on them until tomorrow. It's a lot to deal with, and I think... I would prefer if we simply didn't right now."

"Deal with the pressing stuff," Jason says. "Like who's sleeping where?"

"And getting them adjusted," Bruce says. "I don't think I'm... quite ready to sit down and explain everything that happened."

The look Bruce exchanges with Slade tells Jason that whatever story they have to tell, it isn't a pleasant one.

"That's fine," Dick says. "I can stay an extra night. I had myself booked for up to a week off. I can catch the explanation in the morning, and then head home."

"I'm going to go back home tonight," Tim says, "but I'll bring the family over for the explanation. Barbara is going to be... well, dying to hear it. She asked me to record it when you got back."

"That's fine," Bruce says. "It'll be good to see her. We have... videos, from all of you. Your counterparts. She has one too."

"We've got a lot of stuff to go through," Slade says, "but like Bruce said, it can wait. For now..."

"Sleeping arrangements?" Alfred says. "I currently have both Mister Wayne and Mister Wilson positioned in guest rooms, along with the members of the League who are visiting. Assuming we have no plan to relocate Master Dick and Master Tim's rooms, we do not currently have space outside the guest wing. One of our spare rooms is currently occupied by Titus, and the other is the reading room."

"The guest wing is fine," Joey says quickly, and Slade makes a face.

"It's fine for now," Slade corrects. "We'll revisit it later."

Damian huffs at the thought of Titus losing his room.

"May I also recommend lunch?" Alfred says. "It may be a bit early, but we have all been up for quite a while."

"Lunch would be excellent," Bruce says. "Thank you Alfred."

Truthfully, Jason is dying to hear what the hell happened. What little they got from Bruce and Slade when they first returned is missing some pretty key details, and neither of their guests would have been any help on what was actually happening while they were gone.

But he's worried about pushing Bruce too hard. He seems exhausted, and he worries if he pushes him at all he's going to drop.

I think I need a bit more time, Joey signs, before catching himself and saying it.

"I think I might rest in my room," he adds. "If that's alright."

"Of course," Slade says quickly. "Whatever you need."

"I'll show you back," Jason says just as quickly. "And see if we can't find your suitcase."

He doubts anyone believes that it's just that, but he's... well, he's not quite sure what to feel about Joey, and he's hoping a little bit of private time might help with that.

Sure, Joey signs, and only barely seems to remember to grab his phone before they head back to the guest wing.

Chapter 4

Joey's suitcase turns out to be in the spare guest room, and without anywhere else to go, Jason decides he might as well stay there. The guest rooms are more or less all the same, save for the big one they've given to the Kents, so one room is pretty much the same as the others.

"Guess we should probably label them," Jason says, mostly to himself. "But I think people will be going soon anyway."

Some have already left, but he can't imagine that the rest will stick around that much longer. They have lives. Things to do. Jason's in a good enough position where he can take the time off work and put things in Michael's hands, but not everyone else is.

"So..." Jason starts, turning back to Joey largely out of instinct. "I don't know how much you know about all of us, but most of the time it's Slade, Bruce, Alfred, me, and Damian. And all of Damian's pets, of course. Everyone else is pretty much here temporarily, so if you're worried about it being too busy... don't."

I've dealt with busy, Joey signs, and Jason finds that it's not as hard as he first thought to keep up. He's used to sign, and as long as it's not a big group environment, keeping up with Joey's sign isn't particularly difficult. 

That said, it's hard to miss that Joey looks exhausted. Even after showering and cleaning up, he looks like he wants to just lie down in bed and never move again. Considering what he's pretty sure happened to him on arrival, he can't really blame him. Being trapped like that...

No, he can't blame him at all.

"Do you need anything?" Jason asks. "Food, water, new pillows... whatever."

I have what I need, Joey signs. I had a chance to pack.

"That's good at least," Jason says. "I was kind of worried Slade had just tucked you under his arm and carried you off."

Jason isn't entirely sure he's kidding.

No, Joey signs. I asked to come. I thought it would be better here for me.

He does not elaborate on why, but Jason nods anyway.

"Well," he says, "hopefully it is. It's a nice place here. Nice people. I don't really... Well, I don't really know what your life was like back there or anything like that, but what we've heard wasn't exactly great."

He's probably not doing a great job of convincing him, but if he's already there, he probably doesn't need much convincing anyway.

You're lucky, Joey signs.

"I know," Jason says immediately. "I know I've been lucky with them. I know your dad... wasn't." He's going to say something more, but in the end that really summarizes it all. Deathstroke wasn't. Wasn't a good person. Wasn't a good dad. Was barely a father at all.

I abandoned him, Joey signs. And now he's back home, alone, and he has to deal with my bones.

Really? Jason actually has to catch himself from saying it out loud, because after everything he's gone through, the absolute emotional blender that was his life... Joey's still worried about his dad. He's still worried about Deathstroke's emotional state.

"I'm sure they took precautions," Jason says. "Slade might not have, but Bruce would make sure that someone's there to handle him."

Joey doesn't answer, instead sinking heavily onto the bed, his hands resting in his lap.

"Just... don't worry about him, alright? You're here now. Get some sleep, and when you're awake, come find us. Just... knock on the wall or something and someone will come grab you. Alfred can make you food when you're up. He's really good at that."

It's hard to comfort him when he knows so little about the situation. He doesn't really know what he's been through, or what he's going through right then. He can only guess, taking in the broad strokes and working from there.

Joey nods, and Jason takes that as an excuse to excuse himself, closing the door behind him.

Now he's the one who feels tired, but it's too early in the day to go down for a nap. Instead, he heads back to the living room and finds Tim already gone.

"He left?" He asks, looking to where Tim was sitting.

"Had to get back to Barbara," Slade says. "Said he'd be back tomorrow morning."

"I was going to do an all-call," Jason says. "Let everyone know you guys are back, and they'll hear from us before long."

"Probably a good idea," Bruce says. He's got Dick leaning against him, flipping through his phone as he lets Bruce just enjoy the proximity. Damian's playing with Portia between Bruce and Slade, and Thomas sits alone on the opposite side of the living room.

"I'll be back," he says. "So just give me a minute."

He heads down to the cave by himself. Things are more or less where he left it, only there's now a giant, kind of ridiculous looking broadsword propped up against the wall. He's pretty sure Slade brought it back, but he doesn't have any real idea of what significance it might have. It's obvious Alfred didn't know what to do with it, so Jason collects it, placing it with the suit that Deathstroke left behind.

Then he settles into the command chair at the batcomputer and gets to work.

Raptor: Non-emergency. Bruce and Knight have returned safely. Expect a family meeting in next few days.
Oracle: Is Robin on his way?
Raptor: Should be.
Oracle: I'll keep an eye out.
Signal: Is Nightwing?
Raptor: No, will report in tomorrow.
Signal: :ok-hand:
Signal: Why don't emojis work on this.
Oracle: Because Bruce said it was unprofessional.
Azrael: Thank you for the update, Raptor.
Nightwing: Grab them communicators while you're at base, Raptor.

Jason rolls his eyes at Nightwing making him do it rather than walking the twenty feet to the cave entrance himself, but does end up going to fetch Bruce and Slade's things. They both emptied their pockets before changing into the new suits, and he's left their phones charging in the time they were gone.

He doesn't even want to know how many missed messages Bruce must have.

When he returns to the living room, nothing much has changed, although Dick's grinning like he's up to something.

"Phones," Jason says. "Still charged. You've probably got a ton of messages, but take your time with them. As far as the world knows, you're both on vacations for a week."

He hands them back, and Slade tucks his away without even looking.

"What is it exactly you... do?" Thomas says, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Outside of being the Batman."

"I'm retired," Bruce says. "Jason is more the Batman than I am right now, but the mantle is effectively out of commission. It's no longer needed."

"Question stands," Thomas says. "I know effectively nothing about your day to day lives."

"I provide advice and am the face of Wayne Enterprises," Bruce says. "I still have ownership, but I've handed day to day operations over to Lucius Fox. My work now is primarily with the League."

"The Justice League," Thomas says. "I said things that weren't being the Batman."

"It's different here," Bruce says. "More... open. It's public knowledge that Bruce Wayne is a member of the League. I'm the public face, since I'm the only human who has their identity public."

"Risky," Thomas says with a grunt.

"Not really," Jason says. "I mean, what are they going to do, attack us in our homes? They're welcome to try."

It's happened once before, and it went very poorly for the would-be attackers.

Thomas hmphs in response.

"Have you had a tour yet?" Bruce asks. "That might help you get a better feel for things."

Bruce starts to stand, and Thomas waves him off.

"I can show myself around," he says. "It's more or less the same as it was in my world."

"I'll go with you," Jason says. He's not planning to take no for an answer. "No offense, but I don't want you wandering off or springing one of the houses security measures. You're not part of the system yet."

"Remind me to do that after lunch," Bruce says. "I'm not sure I trust my legs to let me get up right now."

He seems to be perilously close to falling asleep in the seat, like four days worth of adrenaline are crashing all at once.

Jason's also pretty sure he's just happy to have Dick and Damian there, with Slade so close by.

"No promises on reminding you," Dick says without looking up.

Thomas is clearly ready to go, so Jason heads over, leaving the living room with him.

Chapter 5

His tour with Joey was quick and uneventful. His tour with Thomas is anything but.

It feels like every few steps they take, Thomas has to stop and inspect something. Every bit of explanation he provides only draws another round of skeptical-looking squints.

"So," he says as they cut through the family wing. "What exactly do I call you? Thomas? Gramps?" He's never called anyone gramps in his entire life without meaning it as an insult, and it feels weird to say.

"Thomas is fine," he says. "You don't have any equivalent in my world, so we don't have a pre-existing relationship."

"I don't exist?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow, and Thomas grunts, glancing to him quickly.

"I didn't have any relationship with the Jason from my world, or with the last one I was in."

Thomas is obviously Bruce's father to an almost painful degree. More than anything, he reminds Jason of Bruce as he was when Slade first brought him back to the family: Bitter and jaded, unwilling to compromise and absolutely unable to show any sort of positive emotion.

"Well," Jason says with a wave of his hand, "this is the library. All kinds of stuff in there." He's not expecting Thomas to have much of a reaction, but when Thomas heads inside, he follows him in.

"More books than mine," Thomas observes.

"I'm a big reader," Jason says. "So I keep it well stocked. Whatever's really good. We try and vary it."

"You run a casino?" Thomas asks, glancing back to him, and the question seems so out of nowhere that Jason laughs.

"A casino?" He says. "No. I run Wayne Outreach."

"I don't know it," Thomas says, turning back to the books.

"Homeless shelters, soup kitchens, clinics... all that stuff got moved to be part of Wayne Outreach. Putting a single face to things so people could be more comfortable going there."

Thomas grunts. He's hard—practically impossible—to read, and Jason has no idea if he approves or disapproves or what.

"The cave?"

Jason slides over to the proper book, pulling it and letting the hidden scanner read his fingerprints.

The elevator door slides open.

"After you," he says.

Thomas hasn't seemed particularly shocked by anything he's seen so far, but the cave is different. He's almost gawking at it, looking over all the different parts. The display cases. The massive computer. The training area.

"It's bigger," he says.

"We have more people," Jason points out. "Was it really just you?"

No one's said it, but he can guess. Thomas is closed off and unwilling to share, and he's struggling to imagine him getting along particularly well with... well, any of them. He doesn't seem particularly friendly with Dick, and he knows there wasn't a Jason, and without them... Well, it's a mess the whole way through, isn't it?

"Just me," Thomas confirms, staring at the cases with their old costumes. "Jim Gordon helped, but he wasn't a... bat, or anything like that."

"Gordon?" Jason asks. "Tim's married to his daughter."

"I gathered that," Thomas says, inspecting each costume one by one. "Everyone in the other world seemed... upset by that. I got the impression that Timothy and Barbara were not together there."

"Considering what we saw... not all that surprising," Jason says. "Tim's practically a baby over there. It'd be weird."

"You really let Damian go out like this?" Thomas asks, gesturing to one of the smaller costumes as he turns to Jason.

"Not like that," Jason says. "That's my old one. These are just the retired costumes. But yes, he goes out with us."

"He's a child."

"He's a child with an extremely unorthodox upbringing," Jason says. "He has all the skills of someone twice his age and more. He's going to end up doing things either way, we just decided to make him a part of the group so he can learn from us, rather than forcing him to sneak out at night."

He can't help but feel a little bit defensive of the family's youngest.

"He's a boy."

"He's almost fifteen," Jason points out. "And he routinely hangs out with a kid even younger than him who can lift tractor trailers. There's nothing standard about him."

"He should have had a normal life," Thomas says, lips twisted into a scowl. "He shouldn't have had to live like this."

"No, he shouldn't have," Jason says, which seems to catch Thomas off guard. "But he didn't get that option. You can't put the genie back in the bottle. Once he'd been brought into this life, there was no taking him out."

Thomas turns away from the cases with another grunt.

"Show me the grounds," he says.

Jason is not having that, and he scowls at Thomas's back.

"I know you're adjusting," he says, "but so are we. You could at least make an effort to be polite, because if you think I'm going to put up with this just because you're Bruce's dad, you're dead wrong."

Thomas glances back to look him over, and Jason squares up, ready for a fight. Thomas strikes him as that kind of person, someone who's spent so long getting his way that he can't handle when he doesn't. And if he takes a swing at him... Well, then he's going to learn why Jason was Batman for so long.

"...Could you show me the grounds, please," Thomas corrects, and the tension diffuses.

"Sure," he says. "This way."

He takes him through the old service access that leads to the garage, cutting past all of Bruce's fancy sportcarts.

"Manor's pretty big," Jason says. "Manor grounds are even larger. We don't really have any neighbours, so we've got absolutely crazy security on the outskirts. No one gets in or out without us knowing about it."

"Even for flight?" Thomas asks.

"Or people swimming through the creek. Arthur helped us set things up down there. Because we're public, we can afford to be a... place of refuge for the members of the League."

"Which you aren't."

"No," Jason says. "I declined the invitation."

Thomas looks him over as they walk the grounds, a long, slow circle that probably doesn't need to be half as long as it is.

"Why?"

"A lot of reasons," he says. "I wanted to focus on Gotham. It's a lot better than it was, but I think it could be better. And I didn't want to be the absent head of Wayne Outreach. I didn't want to have to split my attention three ways."

Thomas gives yet another grunt that could mean absolutely anything. Thomas is bordering on monosyllabic, and it's already starting to rake at Jason's nerves.

But he managed to get over this once, and he can do it again.

"I assume you've got more questions?" Jason asks, and Thomas says something that sounds more like a grumble than a word. The only part he catches is married, and Jason squints at him.

"What was that?" Jason says, wondering if he's going to have to fistfight his own sort-of-grandpa on the first day he's there.

"I said 'I want to know how the hell my son ended up with a pirate'," Thomas grumbles.

Jason feels like he just got tossed off a bridge.

"A pirate?" He says. "Is that what you think Slade is?"

"It's what he was," Thomas says with a wave of his hand. "Back in my world. Deathstroke was a pirate. Raided what was left of Europe."

"A pirate," Jason says. "Slade was a pirate."

He is never going to live this down.

Wait, hold on.

"What was left of Europe?"

"I was going to give you the story tomorrow," Thomas says. "My world was in pieces. We didn't have a Justice League. Most of Europe was gone."

Jason's mostly just been walking for the sake of walking, but apparently Thomas hasn't, because Jason realizes they're rapidly approaching the graveyard. He seems to be purposefully heading towards it, but Jason's not taking any second chances in case he's not.

"We're going to be at the graveyard soon," Jason says. "If that's not where you're going."

"It's where I'm going," Thomas says. "I wanted to see."

He lets Thomas look. There's not all that much to see, just the five headstones and a pomegranate tree. The most interesting thing to Jason is the hastily dug hole in front of Thomas's own tombstone, but Thomas seems more interested in the other three graves set off to the side. He supposes it makes sense: He knows who's beside him, but doesn't know his neighbours.

"The al Ghuls?" Thomas says with a backward glance. "Why the hell are they here?"

Jason can't tell if Thomas is dumb or just purposefully ignoring the obvious truth.

"Talia was Damian's mother," Jason says, folding his arms across his chest. "They're his family."

"You can't tell me that every criminal in the other universe is actually redeemed here," Thomas says.

"I'm not," Jason says. "Half of them are dead. Ra's wasn't redeemed and neither was Talia. Nyssa... kind of was. But they're still Damian's family, and he still cares about them, so here they are."

"I killed Talia al Ghul myself," Thomas says, his tone somehow even sourer than usual.

"Feel free to not mention that to Damian," Jason says. "She's dead. So is Ra's. He knows the kind of people they were, but he still loves them, and the last thing he needs is to hear about how shitty they were."

"They-" Thomas starts, and Jason is not going to let him say it.

"What happened to he's just a boy?" Jason says. "They're his family. It's hard to not have a part of you that loves them, even if they're awful."

Because even if his parents were absolute scum, there's still a part of him that feels bad for selling them out. Even if they'd have sold him out in his place... he's supposed to be better than that.

And he is not going to let Thomas start trash talking the al Ghuls.

"I get it," Thomas says, holding his hands up. "Don't talk about the al Ghuls. You're awfully protective of the kid."

"Like you said," Jason says, "he's just a kid. He can kick anyone's ass seven ways to Sunday, but he's still sensitive. He's been worrying since they left about whether or not everything is going to be okay, and now he just got them back and he's gotta deal with all this stuff."

"I get it," Thomas says again. "You don't need to justify yourself. It's... nice you're protective of your brother."

Something about the way Thomas says it makes Jason think there's something more to it, but in the end Thomas turns away, heading over to where the last two graves sit.

He stands just in front of Martha's, looking solemn.

"What happened to her?" Jason asks, stepping up to stand beside Thomas. "In your world."

Died alongside Bruce most likely.

"Better not to say," Thomas says, which means he's definitely wrong.

He wonders if he's ever going to find out just what it is that Thomas is keeping from him.

"That's pretty much the grounds," he says. "Alfred probably has lunch ready, though."

Thomas doesn't respond, staring down at the grave. Jason lets him stand there for several minutes, unsure of what to say, and eventually just settles for clearing his throat, dragging Thomas back to reality.

"Lunch," Thomas says. "Right. We should go."

"That's the idea," Jason says. "Just... right this way."

Thomas is quiet on the walk back to the manor, and Jason wonders just what sort of mess he just walked into.

Chapter 6

Alfred's prepared lunch by the time they get back into the house, and as he waits for everyone to sit, he hovers just over Bruce's shoulder, looking perfectly composed.

"May I just say that it's good to have you back, sir," Alfred says pointedly, and then finishes providing everyone their food before sitting himself.

Jason has a hard time reading the interaction as something other than paternal. Alfred's the closest thing he's ever had to a grandfather, and he wonders for a moment if Alfred feels much the same he does. He's confident mentally that Slade isn't going to replace him with the shiny new model of his firstborn, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the occasional tug of unease when he sees them interacting.

It's probably the same way for Alfred. Alfred's effectively been Bruce's father for more than thirty years, and now his real father has popped back into their lives.

Somehow, Jason doubts Thomas's food tastes half as good.

Joey doesn't join them for lunch to start, so it's a smaller affair, without much conversation to start.

"I checked in with Barry," Bruce says. "He's seeing the city with Roy, and complaining every second that Hal isn't there to see it."

"They're still coming back tonight, right?" Jason asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course," Bruce says. "I'm not going to make them get a hotel or anything like that."

"Roy said he wanted to go to the escape room that popped up in Metropolis," Jason adds. "I told him we could go when you get back, but I think he might leave before that."

"He might have gone with Barry, you know," Dick points out.

"Barry wouldn't be caught dead in an escape room," Jason says. "They're recorded, and he'd end up using his powers whether he meant to or not."

"What... what is an escape room?" Thomas asks. He looks absolutely mystified, and Jason realizes he hasn't managed to follow the conversation at all.

"Little games," Slade says. "They put you in a room and there's a bunch of puzzles you have to solve in order to escape properly. They don't have them in Gotham because everyone would be convinced the Riddler's running it, but they're popular enough elsewhere."

"And Jason and Roy both know I don't approve of them visiting them," Bruce says, giving him a dirty look. "Beyond risking their identities, it's not fair to the public."

"They're practice," Jason says. "You should be happy I'm keeping myself ready in case the Riddler comes out of retirement."

Bruce and Thomas are wearing matching expressions of annoyance on opposite sides of the table.

There's a knock from behind him, and Jason twists around to find Joey standing in the doorway, having knocked on the frame to draw their attention.

Sorry for being late, he signs.

"Not an issue," Alfred says, already getting out of his seat. "I have a plate ready for you already, so please take a seat."

Joey hesitates, and then grabs a seat next to Dick. He seems familiar with him, and Jason guesses he probably knew his world's Dick.

Joey plops his phone down on the table, which Jason knows means he's going to just talk. Probably easier with his hands full of cutlery, anyway.

"So what's our plan, exactly?" Thomas says. "As nice as you are, I'm eager to see what the city looks like and how it differs from the last Gotham I was in."

"We can't exactly go wandering around," Joey says.

"No," Bruce says. "You can't. For now, you'll need to stay in the manor. You don't have any ID, and I can't risk either of you getting picked up by the GCPD."

"What's the plan with that exactly?" Jason asks.

"Family meeting tomorrow. League meeting the day after. I already let them all know," Slade says. "Everyone's already in the vicinity except Hal, who said he'd make his way back our way."

"I meant with them," Jason says, gesturing to Joey and Thomas.

"Can I pick my own fake name?" Joey asks, and Bruce and Slade stare at him a moment, confused.

"You're not using fake names," Slade says. "You're going to just be Joseph Wilson, and he's going to just be Thomas Wayne."

"You don't think someone's going to notice?" Thomas says. "I might be a few years off what I should be, but I'm a pretty distinct figure. Especially if they spot us with you."

"Someone will notice," Bruce says. "But you'll get your IDs under the EI-"

"The what?" Thomas asks.

"Extra-human initiative," Slade says. "Like Bruce was going to say. It's a way for non-humans to register and get all the ID and stuff they might need. Jon's got it, Diana's got it, and so on. You guys are just ordinary humans, but you're from another dimension, so that counts."

Joey looks a bit like a deer caught in the headlights, but it's Thomas that speaks first.

"You expect us to be public?"

"One of the few major advantages of being Bruce Wayne on the League rather than Batman is things like this. I no longer have to do social backflips to explain where my son came from, and this is a perfect example of this. Everyone knows I'm involved in League business, and no one would bat an eye to learn we've had people relocate from another dimension here. It'll draw attention, but nothing major."

"You're not going public right away," Slade says, seemingly in response to Joey's stiffness. "All things considered, I'd like to keep you guys quiet at least until we've settled in."

Joey clears his throat, which comes across as a very unusual sound thanks to the subvocal mic.

"I'm not a normal human, though. Is that going to change things?"

Every eye in the room turns to Joey at once.

"What?" Slade says.

"Sorry," Joey says quickly. "I thought you knew. Or I thought you'd... I don't know. I figured Rose would be the same."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific," Bruce says carefully, because it's obvious Slade isn't going to manage anything more coherent than another what?

"Rose and I are both metahumans," he says. "So is pop, for that matter. Probably Grant, but..."

He waves his hand in what Jason interprets as a that doesn't matter gesture.

"I'm not a metahuman," Slade says. "I got my powers from the experiment."

"Maybe here," Joey says. "In my world, the experiment was a failure. The only thing it did was activate your dormant metagene, and that gave you your powers."

"She does have your regeneration," Bruce points out, looking to Slade.

"Metagenes are genetic," Joey points out. "So all your kids got it. It didn't activate until after we were born though-"

"I definitely had my powers before you guys were born," Slade says. "No question."

"Well, both Rose and I had powers of our own back at home," Joey says. "Seperate from what you had."

"Okay," Dick says, "I have to know. What do you guys have exactly?"

"Rose has precognition. She can see... little glimpses of the future. It's more like hyper-accurate guessing, from how it was explained to me."

"She definitely doesn't have that," Slade says. "Or I wouldn't have been able to kick her ass. She's just got a watered down version of what I have."

"I want to know what Joey has," Jason says. "We can think about all the weird implications of this later."

"Might be easier to show," Joey says. "Could I?" He glances to Slade. Even if Slade has no idea what could I means, that doesn't stop him from nodding anyway.

Joey abruptly slumps back in his chair, and when Dick leans over, it's obvious he's completely unresponsive.

"It's fine," Slade says. "My body just goes limp when I'm elsewhere."

Jason feels like his brain is short circuiting as he turns to look at Slade. He looks like Slade. He sounds like Slade. But he just referred to Joey's body as my body, and Jason's smart enough to put two and two together.

"You took over his body?"

"Temporarily," Slade says. "I can hop around if I want, or go back. Just like-"

Slade blinks, and then immediately scowls as Joey sits back up.

"Just like this," Joey finishes.

"That was unpleasant," Slade says. "And... bizarre."

"Were you... what, awake?" Dick asks.

"Like being in the backseat of your own brain, watching a movie of what's happening to you."

"That might just be you," Joey says. "Most people sort of just black it out, like a brief memory lapse. But I wouldn't be surprised if your brain was more... compatible with it?"

The general consensus at the table seems to be firmly on the unsettled side of things. Possession isn't like flight, and it's not getting a particularly positive reception.

"I won't do it without a good reason," Joey says. "I mostly used it for communication back in the day, but the mic means I don't have to."

"At the very least this confirms that we need to tell the League," Bruce says. "We'll get you registered and all that after the meeting, and we can talk about the public finding out after that. We're not in any big rush."

Thomas grunts his acknowledgement, and Jason feels like his head is still spinning. It seems like everyone is willing to just most past the whole Joey can possess people thing, but he sure as hell isn't.

Slade seems to notice, and he reaches over subtly, giving Jason's back a light touch. A clear signal of I'm right here.

It's such a small thing, but it's enough to ease the tension out of his shoulders.

Joey's harmless, based on everything he's seen from him. If he wasn't, Bruce and Slade wouldn't have brought him back so easily. He's not a danger, even if his power is a bit unnerving.

J'onn, he supposes, is the same way: Fully capable of doing awful things, and yet perfectly content to do nothing of the sort.

"Oh," Dick says, interrupting the moment of awkward silence. "Did we tell you about the suit?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," Bruce says, and even for Jason, who was there the whole damn time, it takes a second to realize what Dick means.

"Oh!" Jason says. "When Deathstroke came through he had this absolutely insane suit on, and it was so ridiculous that J'onn had to step in to get him to stop fighting back. It took Clark and Diana and J'onn to get it off him, because the damn thing was so strong that it took a full on Clark punch."

"Full strength?" Bruce asks, looking horrified.

"Full strength," Dick confirms. "Not the first one, obviously, but when that failed he wound up and it did nothing."

Joey looks significantly paler than he used to, glancing between them.

The Ikon suit, Joey signs, before catching himself and actually speaking. "What happened to it?"

"Sitting down in storage," Jason says. "We did plan to give it back to him if we got the chance, but he wasn't playing nice, and then he was jerked back at the last minute."

"So I stole his sword and his suit," Slade says. He looks pleased with himself.

"It's a gravity sheath," Joey says. "The smaller the surface area being impacted, the stronger the defense. It's what I was wearing."

"Wait, the flying suit?" Slade asks.

"You can fly?" Dick asks.

"With the suit," Joey says. "The big drawback of the suit is inertron, which probably doesn't even exist in this timeline, so It's probably a good thing you had so many people standing by."

"Never heard of it," Bruce says, "but I can check with Hal."

"So wait," Slade says, "we have a version of the suit that Joey wore, in my size, that can fly?"

"You can't fly," Joey says quickly. "They're two different models. Yours has better defenses, while mine was overclocked to allow for flight."

Slade looks awfully disappointed.

"If you can fly," Jason says, "then you know you're going to have to demonstrate."

Damian, on the other hand, has different ideas.

"You should give the suit to me," he says, "so I can fly with Jon."

"I have the schematics for the suits," Joey says. "They're on my laptop."

"Oh good lord," Bruce says with a groan. "He's been here for less than six hours and he's already figuring out how to make us all fly. Clark is going to be beside himself."

Damian looks delighted.

Chapter 7

It feels like a lazy afternoon. It's April, and still fairly cold, but it's sunny enough to lure everyone out of the house and onto the back lawn. There's a bit of squabbling as people find their seats, and Jason plays catch with Damian before it devolves into a game of fetch with Titus.

When Joey returns, he's wearing a white suit with gold accents and black sides, and Jason can't help but notice it hides... well, his entire face. The mask pulls up to the top of his forehead, but Joey's fairly quick to explain.

EEG leads in the mask, Joey signs. For finger control. Pop wouldn't wear them.

Jason likes to think he's pretty used to weird, but seeing Joey just lift off the ground with help definitely takes a minute to adjust. In terms of dynamics, he seems to fly pretty similarly to Clark, with no clear means of propulsion. He's clearly practiced it, because he does a few soaring loop-de-loops to demonstrate before coming back down to the ground.

"So you were a hero?" Dick asks.

We shared a team, Joey signs. The Teen Titans. I retired from the whole hero thing to work.

"Your power must have been useful," Jason says. "Nevermind the flight."

Suit's more recent, Joey signs. I did a bit of part time hero work with it more recently.

Damian's staring at the suit, torn between wide eyed admiration and a clear desire to steal it for himself.

"I'll pass the blueprints to Lucius," Bruce says. "See if we can't emulate it. We have a few other things we brought over for him to take a look at as well."

"Go try on the suit," Jason says, turning around to look at Slade. "You know you're dying too."

He's got Slade pegged, because he grunts before getting up out of his seat, waving over his shoulder as he heads back into the house.

"What are we doing then?" Damian asks. "Combat demonstrations? Sparring?"

"On the lawn?" Thomas asks.

"We're far enough out and have enough security there's no risk of someone spotting us," Bruce says. "Not without superpowers of their own."

Which I guess aren't common? Joey signs.

"Strong estimates are about fifty non-humans in America," Jason says. "That's counting all powered members of the League, but not counting any Themysciran or Atlanteans outside of Diana and Arthur."

Oh yeah, he's definitely right. Thomas doesn't like the mention of Arthur or Diana, and every time they—or their homes—get mentioned his face twitches a bit. It's subtle, but Jason's also pretty sure most of them have noticed.

Pretty sure we had fifty in New York City at home, Joey signs.

Slade opens the back door, heading down onto the lawn. The suit looks... well, Jason's first impression is he looks just like Deathstroke did, but it's a pretty stupid observation, because of course he looked like that. They're practically the same goddamn person.

"It fits," Slade says, "and that's about all I can say about it."

It's probably trying to sync with pop's implant, Joey signs. So you won't have the AI unless I reset it.

"I don't think I need an AI anyway."

"I'd hope not," Jason says. "Who's fighting who?"

Everyone seems to be glancing at everyone else, and then Alfred clears the air.

"Might I suggest Mister Wayne and Master Bruce spar? I'm not sure if Mister Wilson has any interest..."

I'll spar, Joey signs, but I'm not very good.

"Then Master Jason might be a better option," Alfred says. "Master Damian still struggles a bit with holding back appropriately. I'm afraid practicing with the young Mister Kent has only made him worse."

Damian doesn't even make an attempt to look embarrassed.

"That's fine," Jason says. "Should I get my suit?"

I'll change, Joey signs. I think the suit might be too much, and we don't want to damage it.

"Are you telling me I changed for nothing?" Slade says. "Bruce, punch me."

It says a lot about their relationship that Bruce's response is not to ask why, but instead to stand up, crack his knuckles, and then slug Slade in the torso.

There's a noise that Jason has a hard time describing—something between a crack and a spark—and Bruce pulls back, shaking out his hand.

"Bit like punching a wall," he says. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Didn't even feel it," Slade says. "Remind me to get Clark to swing at me when I see him."

"We've created a monster," Jason says with an exaggerated sigh. "I guess it's Bruce up first?"

Bruce is still shaking out his hand, but he heads out onto the grass anyway. Thomas picks himself up, following after him, and Jason feels an abrupt flutter of anxiety. He knows what to expect with Bruce. He has no idea what to expect with Thomas.

Even so, he settles back to watch.

Thomas's fighting style turns out to be best described by a single word: Brutal. He's never thought of Bruce's style as being particularly graceful, but by comparison it certainly is. Thomas's is all short, fast movements, aiming to disable and cause pain first and foremost.

Truthfully, Jason had expected Bruce to wipe the floor with him. Bruce is in his physical prime, and Thomas has to be years past it. More than that, Bruce still regularly trains with the best of the best. He spars with multiple members of the League on a regular basis. Thomas, from what he can tell, was just by himself.

And yet Thomas keeps up with him. They're almost evenly matched, going blow for blow as they learn each other's fighting styles, moving to counter them. Most fights are over within a minute, and yet the fight extends well into its fifth minute before something gives.

That something is Thomas's stamina. It's obvious he's used to shorter, faster fights, but Bruce's practice with Slade means he's used to holding out against opponents who are well beyond human. He's more conservative in his style, and in the end it lets him catch Thomas's leg, sending the older man to the ground.

The fight still lasts another minute after that, but it's different. It's Thomas trying desperately to regain his footing as Bruce pushes for the win, and by the time Bruce gets him pinned on the ground and Thomas taps out, they're both soaked with sweat.

"You're a hell of a lot better than I thought," Slade says, arms folded over his chest. "Was kind of expecting the solo Batman thing to hold you back."

"I had more practical experience than most," Thomas says as he slowly picks himself back up. "My world had a lot more potential for combat than this one."

It feels like a more polite version of peace has made you weak, which Jason appreciates.

Alfred hands them both bottles of water, and they both chug them down in almost simultaneous motions.

"It's just weird," Damian mutters under his breath. "How can they be so similar?"

"Most people would say you're the same way with Bruce, you know," Jason says, reaching over to try and ruffle Damian's hair. Damian dodges out of the way, smacking his hand away.

"Go on," Damian says. "Lets see you fight."

Joey's already back, dressed in loose clothes that wouldn't look out of place in a gym. He seems to have been prepared for this possibility, but Jason knows he's going to have to hold back. Joey looks... well, skinnier than he's used to. Still muscular, but closer to Dick's build than his own.

"Two thumps to tap out," Jason says, because there's no way he's going to be paying enough attention to catch a surrender sign. "No shots to the face, no powers... you know the drill."

I've trained enough to know the rules, Joey says. I was part of the Titans, remember?

"We don't even have those," Jason points out, "so I've got no idea if they have the same rules."

Alfred, ever the officiator, counts them down.

Joey, in sharp contrast to Thomas, is pretty much what Jason expects. He's good, and there's no question he could defend himself if needed, but it's the kind of good that comes with being largely retired for years. He's rusty, and Jason has to hold himself back to keep from ending the fight too quickly. Joey's fighting style feels somewhere between Dick as a Robin and Tim in his earlier years, and it lacks of a lot of the hard-won experience they've gained over the years.

He does manage to catch Jason off guard at one point, getting in a punch to his ribs, but he's not expecting Jason's sheer pain tolerance, nor is he expecting the counter blow that catches him in his ribs. It doesn't end the fight, but it makes it clear enough where they stand, and Jason pushes for the advantage.

He has Joey on the ground, arm pinned behind his back when he taps out with his free hand, and Jason immediately climbs off him, offering a hand.

"Not bad," Jason says. "A bit rusty, but I'd be surprised if you weren't, considering your retirement."

Joey takes the offered hand, pulling himself up, and rubs at his ribs where Jason might have given him a small bruise. He's taking it like a champ, taking the offered water bottle from Alfred and gulping it down.

In workout clothes, the scar on Joey's neck sticks out almost as much as Jason's own scars, and a part of him wonders if he should have worn something that wasn't long sleeved for once.

"So," Jason says, dragging his eyes away from the scar and back towards Slade. "Guess what you were back in Thomas's world?"

"I'm afraid to ask," Slade says, sinking down into his chair. "Warlord in some far off country?"

"Pirate," Jason says.

Dick cracks up, and he's not the only one.

"A pirate?" Dick says. "It was the eye patch that did it, wasn't it? You got your first eyepatch and decided that the sea was your mistress now."

Slade rolls his remaining eye in response.

"I want to know what kind of world has piracy as a viable job," Damian says. "Let alone one you can build a reputation as."

"Pirates exist," Jason points out, earning himself an eye roll.

"Not the way Deathstroke would operate. That's a completely different thing."

Thomas has been quiet, and he considers the glass of orange juice in his hand before setting it aside.

"I might as well tell you," he says. "Get it out of the way."

Jason's been dying to know what the hell happened with Bruce and Slade, but he supposes this will do.

"We didn't have a Flash," Thomas says. "Nor did we have a Justice League. In my timeline, Bruce died in the alley instead of me. Things were... very different for reasons I don't really understand. The Atlanteans and the Amazons went to war, and in that war they sunk all of Western Europe, killing millions."

Whatever levity the afternoon on the lawn gained them is gone.

"What about Clark?" Bruce asks. "Surely he'd have stopped... all of that."

"Kal-el," Thomas says, "was captured by the US government and used for experiments. He was not the man you're used to."

Experimented on. Like an animal. And all the things that Thomas doesn't say seem to hang in the air.

"The Barry Allen from his world," Thomas says with a nod towards Joey, "arrived in ours. I aided him, along with Cyborg, Kal-el, and others, in returning things to how they should have been. It gave me a... clearer understanding of what we were dealing with."

He only knows Cyborg because the other Clark had asked about him.

"None of that matters though," Thomas says. "Not really. It's behind me, that world is gone, and there's nothing to be gained from digging through it."

It's avoidance, plain and simple, and Jason's sure that everyone can see it. It's the same way he so often skips over his late teens when telling people about himself. It's easier to just not deal with it. It's easier to pretend it didn't happen.

"What about mom?" Bruce says, his voice almost whisper quiet.

Thomas won't look at Bruce at all.

"She never recovered from your death," he says, and then refuses to say any more.

"Perhaps we should retire inside," Alfred says when the silence threatens to get too heavy. "I believe Master Bruce mentioned that he had calls to make, and I wouldn't be surprised if Misters Allen and Harper returned before long."

"I'll let them know they can come back whenever," Jason says, "just in case they're waiting for us."

They head back to the house in silence.

Chapter 8

Jason shoots Roy a text on his way into the house, letting him know he's free to come back if he wants.

Roy doesn't surprise him at all, because the first thing he asks is if he gets an Alfred-level dinner if he comes back.

Jason rolls his eyes, sends him a yes, and not thirty seconds later there's a knock at the door.

"Someone just blew past our security," Bruce says. "Probably Barry."

Jason goes to get the door, and finds Barry—in street clothes—standing on his doorstep. That isn't terribly surprising. What is surprising is that he's holding Roy bridal style, and that Roy's grinning up at him.

Or at least he's grinning until Barry drops him, and Roy just manages to catch himself.

"Hey!" Roy protests.

"Should have been faster," Barry says as he heads inside.

"Were you guys just waiting?" Jason asks.

"Sitting in a Starbucks," Roy says as he picks himself up off the ground. "Waiting for the all clear. Didn't want to intrude on family time."

"It's fine," Jason says as they head to the living room, finding it empty for the moment. "We got the story out of Thomas-"

"That's... gramps, right?" Roy asks, and Jason makes a face.

"Jesus," Jason says. "Don't call him that. He's not... he was never anyone's grandpa in his timeline, and he's sure as hell not ours."

"Beside the point," Barry says, "but we get the idea."

"Yes, that's him," Jason says. "He's not from the world Bruce and Slade were in, but a totally different one, and then apparently the world-"

"We're A," Roy says. "B is the one Bruce and Slade were from, and Thomas can be from C."

Jason rolls his eyes. It's not that complicated.

"He's from C, but apparently Barry Allen from B showed up and helped him correct C because it was a giant mess."

"More of a mess than B?" Roy asks.

"Clark-B made B sound just fine," Barry says as he sprawls out on the couch.

"Yeah, the world's fine, but the family's a disaster. Secret prison, Barry."

"You know what that was about yet?" Roy asks, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

"We're getting the whole story tomorrow," Jason says. "Which is-"

He falters, spotting someone in the doorway, and when he looks up he finds Joey glancing in. Joey's already starting to retreat when Jason gives him a wave, beckoning him in.

I'm not interrupting, am I? Joey signs.

"Just catching them up to date," Jason says, glancing to Barry and Roy. After a moment, he simply turns to Barry.

"You know ASL?" He's pretty sure Roy does, but Barry?

Barry scratches at the back of his neck, looking sheepishly between Jason and Joey.

"Uh," he says, "no, sorry. But I can learn pretty fast?"

Joey waves his hand, digging out his phone before setting it on the table. It occurs to Jason that it's the first time they've met each other, and he clears his throat as Joey sets his phone up.

"This is Joey," he says. "He's Slade's son from universe B."

"Universe B?" Joey asks through the phone, and both Roy and Barry blink in surprise, looking down at the phone before back up to Joey.

"I'm mute," he adds. "So I have to talk through the phone, if that's alright."

"Oh, yeah," Barry says quickly. "Not an issue. Just caught me off guard."

"Universe B is your universe," Roy says. "This is Universe A, because we're awesome."

"So what's the B stand for?" Joey asks, raising an eyebrow.

Roy obviously isn't expecting that question. Even so, Roy's always been good at thinking on his feet. "The B is for bad, obviously," Roy says. "Because any world where Jason got kicked out of the family and Damian had a secret prison is bad."

"So if C is worse than B," Barry says. "What's the C for?"

"I want to say crap," Jason says. "But crap feels like it's understating a world where half of us don't even exist and all of Europe's wiped out."

"I think we can safely establish that universe C is universe clusterfuck," Roy says solemnly.

They laugh at that, and Jason catches Joey laughing too. He doesn't make much sound, but his body still goes through the motions. It's weird, but so's his entire life.

"I'm Barry, by the way," Barry says, sticking his hand out for a shake. Joey takes it, giving it a quick one, and then Roy follows up.

"Roy Harper," he says. "Arsenal. I'm on the League. Barry's the Flash, by the way."

"I know," Joey says. "I was a part of the hero community back home, so I know a lot of names. Barry-B isn't very good at keeping his identity secret, he's just counting on the fact that he's not particularly notable."

"Well, not notable the way Bruce is, anyway," Jason says.

"Also, you know, Wally," Joey adds.

"Who?"

"Wally?" Joey asks. "Wall- Oh." He goes pale, looking over Barry.

"Oh no," Roy says. "Now you have to tell us."

"Wally was—is—Kid Flash in my universe," Joey says. "He had your powers  He was one of the founding members of the Teen Titans."

"The Teen Titans?" Roy says. "Who came up with that name?"

"Dick, probably," Jason says.

"He lead the team," Joey says. "The first Teen Titans. Among other people, you were on the team."

He nods to Roy.

"Me?" He says. "That seems like a hell of a downgrade from the League."

"Different timeline," Joey says. "Everyone's different ages. Barry's younger here than he was at home."

"I think I'll settle for being on the League and regularly rubbing Ollie's face in it," Roy says, looking smug.

Honestly, Jason's just happy right then that they both are getting along with Joey. Joey seems a bit subdued, although it's hard to tell how much of that is him and how much of that is the circumstance.

He just knows they can come on a bit strong.

"You're friends of Jason?" Joey asks.

"Well," Roy says, "Jason here isn't on the League with us, but there's definitely sort of an age gap on the League. You've got Slade and Bruce and all these adults who are way past their prime, and then you've got the three of us near the bottom, and Hal's somewhere in the middle."

"Hal doesn't even count," Barry says. "He's gone half the time."

"Jason doesn't even count, he's not on the League," Roy says, giving Jason his very best scandalized look.

Roy's made it pretty clear what he thinks about that.

"I just want to focus on Gotham," he says.

"Focus on Gotham from a League chair," Roy says.

"It'll make it lopsided," Jason protests. "You know if I go on there, Ollie will want to come on."

"So let him," Roy says with a wave of his hand. "I'll trade Ollie being on the League for you being on there with us. Plus, that means I can bum a ride with him for League meetings."

Joey glances between them, looking obviously mystified by the entire conversation.

"So you get put at the kid's table?"

"No, nothing like that," Roy says. "But you've got little circles that form after meetings are over. Arthur's pretty much always with Diana, and so is J'onn, even if he's trying to branch out. Then Diana wants to talk to Bruce, because he's got the whole public face of the League thing going on, and then of course Slade's going to hang out with Bruce. Then you have our side, and then Hal somewhere in the middle."

"Mostly with us," Barry says.

"Especially if you can bribe him with Alfred's cooking," Jason says.

"Everyone loves Alfred's cooking," Roy says. "Sure, I missed you guys when I went back to Star City, but you know what I missed most?"

"Please tell me it wasn't Alfred's cooking."

"It was absolutely Alfred's cooking, Jay!"

Jason buries his face in his hand at how absolutely shameless Roy is about it.

"You've had some, right?" Roy asks, twisting around to look at Joey.

"Just lunch here," he says. "And some from Alfred-B."

"Pretty sure that's Alfred now," Barry asks, peeking up over the back of the couch.

The man himself appears in the doorway, shooting Roy a dirty look that very quickly gets his feet off the coffee table.

"Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes," Alfred says. "If you boys could help get the dining room ready...?"

"Of course Al-" Roy starts.

"All of you boys," Alfred says. "Do not just let Mister Allen do all the work."

Roy looks a tiny bit sheepish at that, and Jason knows that was exactly what he was planning to do.

"Alright," Roy says. "Lets go get things ready."

He picks himself up, and everyone else does the same, heading back towards the dining room to set things up.

Chapter 9

Dinner feels much different from lunch. For the most part, Jason chalks it up to Barry and Roy's presence. They bring a lightness to the conversation that wasn't there before, and he's happy they're there to ease things out.

"So wait," Roy says midway through the meal, "we missed watching the new guys show their stuff?" He glances pointedly between Thomas and Joey.

"Thomas operated as a solo Batman for years," Bruce says. "He's no slouch, but he's not going to be heading into the field any time soon, if at all."

"I don't have any plans to put the cowl back on," Thomas says, almost automatically. "I came here to get away from that life, not to go back for round three."

Jason's honestly just happy to hear he's not going to have to try and fit them into the schedule.

"What about you?" Dick asks, looking over to Joey, who quickly swallows his mouthful of food  to answer.

"I was already retired," he says. "I don't really plan to come out of retirement, unless that's something you guys want."

"We have enough people," Jason says. "Me, Slade, Damian, Tim, Michael, and Steph for Gotham."

"And our Crime rate is about equal with Metropolis," Bruce says. "Just for some context."

"Metropolis?" Thomas asks. "Thats-"

"If you didn't have Clark, it's probably higher over there," Bruce says. "Metropolis has one of the lowest crime rates for a city its size, and we're almost equal to them."

"We're not going to make you join in," Slade says, turning his attention to Joey, "but the option's open if you want it. You did well against Jason for someone who's been out of the game for so long."

It's a completely mild comment. It's little more than a verbal shoulder pat. Even so, Joey actually looks away like he's embarrassed, and when Jason squints he's pretty sure he sees tears in Joey's eyes.

Bruce changes the subject, and even if it's obvious he's doing it just to draw attention away from Joey, everyone goes along with it.

"So," he says. "League meeting day after tomorrow. I'll be bringing Thomas and Joey along, but I'm also going to have Jason come along with us."

"Did Diana ask you to?" Jason says immediately, squinting over at Bruce.

"Diana thought it would make sense to have someone they're familiar with to stay with them. We have other things to discuss that aren't them, and I agree with her that the idea of them sitting alone in a lobby isn't great."

Jason can't really disagree with that.

"Fine," he says. "I'll sit in the lobby while the adults talk about adult matters."

"Are we really classing Roy as an adult?" Dick says with a grin, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Roy himself.

"No horseplay at the table," Alfred says automatically, which elicits and immediate chorus of sorry's from the table.

"Oh," Bruce says, rubbing at his temple. "I need to call Kate."

"Kate?" Jason asks. "Who?"

"Katherine Kane," Bruce says. "My cousin."

"She was a vigilante back in the world they visited," Thomas says. "I imagine he's wondering if it's the same here."

"That's the idea," Bruce says. "We have three people to look into, and Kate's probably the easiest. Even if we've been out of touch, I can still just call her."

"Who are the other two?" Dick asks.

Slade lets out a small groan.

"My ex-wife," he says. "Back in the last universe Joey had a brother, and I probably need to check in and make sure she didn't secretly have a second son I wasn't aware of."

"Seems unlikely," Jason says. "When we visited her, we didn't see anything to indicate that."

"This is a firm better safe than sorry situation," Slade says. "Even if it means dealing with her."

"She's going to find out about me eventually," Joey says. "She definitely keeps an eye on you."

"Debatable," Slade says. "The relationship I have with her is very different from the one your parents seemed to have. I haven't seen her in..."

He pauses, and Jason can see him counting back the years.

"Seven years?" Jason volunteers.

"About that," Slade says.

Joey looks really surprised by that.

"And potential guest number three?" Dick says.

"They're not guests," Bruce says.

"They're guests," Dick says. "Are you telling me that if Slade has an extra son, or if your cousin is running around as a vigilante you're not going to invite them back to the house?"

Bruce grunts, which means Well, when you put it that way...

"Number three?" Jason prompts.

"Cassandra Cain," Slade says. "Potential daughter of David Cain and Lady Shiva. Of all of them, she's the most likely to exist. I'm going to call Denali and get him to look into it after dinner."

"Denali?" Joey asks. "Not Wintergreen?"

"Same person," Slade says. "He picked a codename after the team died. He's a bit more paranoid than your Wintergreen."

Slade seems to pause for a moment, then grunts.

"He picked it not long after what happened with you," Slade says. "Probably connected."

"Distancing himself?" Bruce asks, and Slade gives a small nod.

"If I was going to guess," he says. "It would explain why he seemed to be close to that world's Deathstroke, where as I drifted away from mine."

"Maybe I could talk with him?" Joey asks. "He might know about Grant, if he exists."

"He barely had a relationship with Adeline," Slade says. "So it's doubtful."

Jason eyes Slade, and he clears his throat.

"But you can speak to him if you'd like. I'll just need to... brief him on the situation."

Jason remembers Denali, but only in very general terms. It wasn't as if he knew him all that well, only enough to recognize him at the wedding.

"This is probably me speeding ahead," Barry says with a wink that makes it very clear he knows he's making an awful pun, "but what are you guys going to do if you're not doing the vigilante thing?"

"Retire," Thomas says. "If I can."

He eyes Bruce in what Jason reads as a very blatant can I afford that or do I need to get a job.

"I don't have an issue with that," Bruce says. "The same offer's open to you, Joey."

Joey goes a bit pink.

"I had a job back at home," he says, "but I got it through my ma. I'm not saying I was useless at it or anything, but I definitely couldn't just land a position like that here."

"What'd you do?" Jason asks.

"Executive Vice President of Core Policy Group," he says, which means a whole lot of nothing to Jason. He's never heard of the Core Policy Group, and he can't guess at what they might do. "Business management," Joey adds when it's obvious Jason isn't the only one.

"I do happen to own a large company," Bruce says. "You might have heard of it."

There's a round of eye rolling at the table at Bruce's own terrible joke.

"Thank you for the offer," Joey says as politely as he can manage. "I'll give it some thought while we get everything in order."

"Of course," Bruce says. "We weren't meaning to rush you."

He gives Barry a pointed look, and Barry does his best to look remorseful, even if he clearly isn't actually.

Jason's done eating, and he's not the only one, so he decides to be the one to say it.

"I think I'm going to do patrol tonight," he says, "but everyone else should probably sleep."

"Batgirl already said she'd handle it," Bruce says, "and you need your sleep too."

Jason scowls at him.

"We can have more than one person," he points out.

"We don't need more than one, though," Bruce says. He frowns, just for a moment, and then shakes his head. "You'll need your sleep."

Which means whatever is coming tomorrow is going to be bad.

"I assume we're not hanging around tomorrow morning," Roy says. "In which case, I'm going to steal Jason's spot and go patrolling."

"Same," Barry says. "But I'm going to head over to Metropolis and see if Clark wants any help."

"Say hi to Jon!" Damian says immediately. "Since his father is letting him go out tonight."

Damian scowls in Bruce's direction, and Bruce simply huffs.

It's been days since any of them went on patrol, but the situation has been unusual. He does make a point of making sure Joey gets to his room, but when he goes to check he finds Slade already there, making sure Joey has everything he needs.

Jason heads back to his own room and crawls into bed a few minutes later. He tries not to think about the next day at all. Every time he does, he feels a sense of growing dread as to what could be so terrible that Bruce and Slade don't even want to talk about it.

It doesn't bode well.

Chapter 10

Jason's tablet alarm goes off, and he rolls half out of bed, reaching out to grab it. It takes him a second to register why it's going off, and then he realizes they never bothered to change the settings once Bruce got back. As far as the security system is concerned, he's the one with the final call, and he groans as he pulls up security, reading the alert.

There's a car at the front gate, and he squints at the unfamiliar vehicle, trying to place it and coming up empty. He has absolutely no fucking idea who it is. He knows what Diana drives. He knows what Steve drives. Hell, he sure as hell knows what the Kents drive.

And this is none of those things.

Jason groans, flipping cameras until he can look at who's inside. It's hard, and involves a lot of squinting through the window, but when he makes the connection he groans again.

Adeline Kane. Slade's ex-wife.

Fantastic.

Jason rolls out of bed, grabbing the nice fluffy housecoat that Alfred gave him last Christmas. He pulls it on as he heads down the hall, tapping the please hold message so she knows they're at least aware.

He catches Bruce and Slade on their way out of the bedroom and grunts in their direction. Bruce seems confused to see him until Jason holds up his tablet.

"Go back to bed," Slade says. "We can handle it."

"Absolutely not," Jason says. "One, I'm already up. Two, I'm one of the three people in the house to have met her."

Slade eyes him for a moment, then shrugs.

"Fine," he says. "You might as well come. Don't mention Joey, and let me handle it."

It occurs to Jason as he buzzes Adeline in that the three of them probably look ridiculous. They're all in big fluffy housecoats with a little bat embroidered on the lapel, and matching slippers with a similar design.

Alfred's idea of a joke, and now they're meeting Slade's ex-wife in them.

The only real advantage is that everyone else seems to still be asleep. Jason doubts it'll last, though. The house is filled with vigilantes and superheroes, and all it's going to take is one shout for everyone to be up.

Adeline does not look happy when Slade opens the door. She's actually dressed, which they are most definitely not, but Slade interrupts her when she opens her mouth, cutting her off.

"Volume down," he says. "People are asleep."

Jason sticks close to Bruce. He doesn't think Bruce has even met Adeline, but Jason has, and his opinions by her are firmly colored by Slade's own. To say the least, he doesn't have much good to say about her, and it's all he can do to keep the sour look off his face.

"Volume down?" She says, but her voice is closer to a normal volume than a shout, despite her tone. "This is not a volume down situation, Slade."

She says Slade's name like it's a slur.

"Volume down," Slade says firmly. "We have guests, and I don't want you waking them."

"Don't give me that," she snaps. "We had an agreement, and you broke it. Whatever civility we had between us is gone."

"Adeline-"

"We had an agreement, Slade," she snaps. "I agreed to leave Joey where he was so you could still visit, and you agreed to leave him where he was so I could still visit."

Crap. Jason knows that means she knows too much, and he winces, exchanging a glance with Bruce.

"Adeline," Slade says. "For fuck's sake, it's three AM. I have guests over. Can we not talk about this later?"

"You abducted my son!" She protests, voice raising.

"Jesus Christ, Adeline," he says. "Volume."

It's obvious to Jason that Slade's already starting to lose his temper. He doesn't do it often—he's a pretty controlled guy by nature—but Adeline has a way of pushing his buttons like no one else.

Jason slips forward, clearing his throat to draw her attention, and she squints at him, obviously recognizing him.

"The replacement son," she says, and Slade growls at her.

"You do not come into my house and say things like that," Bruce says, very suddenly on Jason's other side. "You will be civil, or you will leave."

"Your husband," Adeline says, voice dripping with disgust, "stole my son's body."

Jason can't help but notice it's her son, not their son.

"He did no such thing," Bruce says. "And if you would be quiet and polite about this, we could talk you through it, even if it is three in the morning."

"I have no idea why I should be anything of the sort, considering he was the one who broke our agreement."

"No agreement was broken," Slade says. "And-"

"Father?" Damian calls from just behind them, and Jason glances over his shoulder to find Damian in his pajamas, with Titus at his feet.

"Damian," Bruce says. "Could you go make sure all our guests are still in bed?"

Damian squints at Adeline, who's gone momentarily silent, but doesn't ask for any explanation before padding off towards the guest wing.

"Did you adopt that one too?" She asks, and her tone makes it painfully clear what she thinks of that.

"As a matter of fact," Slade says, "I did. I adopted Damian and Jason, and they're both my sons."

Slade is one wrong word away from slugging his ex-wife in the face, and Jason steps to the side, putting himself between Slade and Adeline.

"Dad," he says. "Go get a drink."

Anything to get him out of there, and Bruce clearly has the same idea.

"If you can't be civil with my husband," Bruce says, "then you'll just have to deal with me."

"Then let me be extremely clear," Adeline says. "You are going to return my son's body to me immediately. I will be taking him home tonight. "

"Or what," Slade says, not yet out of the hallway, and it takes Jason physically planting his hands on Slade's back and pushing him out of the room to get him to leave.

Adeline's eyes flick over to Bruce.

"You might have kept it from the public," she says, "but I think the media would be very interested to hear what his ex-wife has to say about his previous career."

Jason doesn't know if that would be enough. Realistically, Slade's already been effectively pardoned for what happened. But it would draw a lot of unnecessary, negative attention, and it's the very last thing they need right then.

Bruce doesn't look even slightly worried.

"If you had come here in a respectful manner," he says, "we could have sat down and had a nice discussion about all this. As it stands, you came into my house, insulted my son, and threatened me."

"He stole my son," she snaps.

"Miss Kane, your son is dead. If anything, he would have taken his body. This isn't a kidnapping. And, as we've said several times, he did not do the very thing you're accusing him of."

Jason almost calls him Bruce. It's habit, and generally what he calls him more than anything else. But with Adeline right there?

"Father," he says, sounding a hell of a lot like his youngest brother right then. "I'm going to go check on Damian."

He hopes Bruce can guess at what he's actually doing. He figures he can probably take a guess, but there's no way to make sure he knows without giving things away, so he heads to the guest wing when Bruce nods.

Damian's standing in the hallway, looking annoyed.

"Why is she still here," Damian says. "Stepfather is banging around the kitchen. He's going to wake people up."

"Go calm him down," Jason says. "I need to wake up Joey, I think."

Damian huffs and heads for the kitchen.

Jason knocks on Joey's door and gets no response. He knocks again, but when even that doesn't get a response he opts to crack open the door. Joey's out cold, sleeping on his stomach, face buried in the pillow.

Jason feels like he's intruding, but they don't really have another option.

"Joey?" He says.

Joey startles awake, and even in the dim light from the hallway Jason can see his mouth moving almost instinctively before he catches himself.

What? Joey signs.

"Everything's fine," he says. "But Slade's ex-wife showed up."

He doesn't want to say your mom, even if it's sort of kind of correct. It feels like neither Joey nor Slade has quite decided how they want to handle that, and Jason doesn't want to push them either way.

Ma? Joey signs, rolling onto his side and squinting at the light.

"She's saying Slade stole Joey-A's body," Jason says. "And it's getting kind of messy."

Give me a minute, Joey signs, only it's more like he just signs minute and Jason gets the idea, ducking out of the room.

Joey emerges only a minute or two later, pulling on a shirt and yawning widely.

Why'd she have to come so early? Joey signs mid-yawn.

"Don't ask me," Jason says. "But Bruce hasn't told her you're here... probably."

Probably? Joey signs.

"I left mid-conversation. I got the impression he was stalling."

What about Slade? Joey signs.

"In the kitchen with Damian. He-"

Barry's door pops open, and he blinks out at them blearily. Jason winces.

"Sorry," Jason says. "You can go back to bed. Just family stuff."

"Family stuff that's going to kill us?"

"Family stuff that might mildly inconvenience us at worst. You can go back to bed, really."

Barry gives a long, slow blink at them, and then retreats back into his room, closing the door behind him.

Jason gestures towards the front, and they head there together.

Jason isn't sure what kind of reaction he's going to get. The closer they get, the more obvious it is that she doesn't know, and he stays close to Joey when they turn the corner, bringing him into Adeline's line of sight.

Adeline freezes mid-word, her eyes going wide as she stares at Joey. She doesn't even seem to notice that Jason is there. For that matter, he's pretty sure she's even forgotten about Slade and Bruce. 

All she can do is stare at the boy in the doorway.

Joey himself looks pained. What little Jason knows tells him that his relationship with his mother isn't good. If it was, there's no way he'd have come in the first place.

"Joey?" Adeline says, and Slade rubs at his temples.

It's me, Joey signs. But it's not me at the same time.

Joey doesn't get a chance to finish his explanation. Her eyes drop down to his hands, and she turns to Slade, right back to spitting mad in an instant.

"What the hell is this," she says, voice rising. "You... you what, brought him back to life? Is this some kind of game to you?"

"If you would have shut up for a moment, Adeline, we'd have told you he's from another dimension," Slade says.

"Fantastic," she snaps. "You stole a Joey from some other version of me. That's just like you."

Jason can see Joey's frustration. He doesn't have his phone on him—Jason's pretty sure it's sitting in it's charging cradle back in the guest room—and whether or not Adeline actually understands ASL, she's not willing to actually look at him. It's left him unable to communicate, and Jason isn't going to have that.

"Hey!" He says loudly, well aware he's probably just woke up half the house as Adeline swings around to look at him. "Will you shut the fuck up for ten seconds? He is trying to talk to you and you're ignoring him."

Joey starts to sign, but it doesn't matter. Adeline's already turning her attention back to Slade.

"I already know what I need to," she says. "He can't talk because your idiocy got his throat cut, and the only mercy is that this one didn't die like ours-"

Jason turns his attention to Joey.

"Say what you want," he says. "I'll just yell it at her until she listens."

Joey stares at him, nods, and then starts to sign. Jason doesn't miss a beat. It's not exactly easy, and he can't quite manage to interpret one to one, but he can get the general feeling of things, and hopefully Joey doesn't mind too much interpretation.

"He didn't steal me," Jason says for Joey. "I chose to come here because of things like this. Back home, you would always say you loved me, and I knew that you did. But I always knew that love mattered less than getting even with pop. You got me a job so I'd stay away from him. You pushed me to leave heroing so I wouldn't cross paths with him. You didn't want me being friends with Rose to avoid him. My entire life was about the war between the two of you, and even if pop was a terrible person, at least he didn't make me feel like I was a weapon being used against someone I cared about."

Jason can't really see Adeline's reaction. He's too busy watching Joey's hands, his brain running a mile a minute as he tries to mentally translate things. He doesn't get a chance to look until the very end, when he slips his eyes over to see Adeline watching the pair of them, lips set in a firm line.

"Joey," she says. "I don't know what your other father told you-"

Joey throws his hands up in the air, which doesn't need any sort of translation.

"Jesus," Jason mutters under his breath. He always thought Bruce was dense. He glances over, and when he spots Joey signing, he quickly gets back to work.

"This isn't about pop," he says. "Now go home."

It's sure as hell not what Jason expected to say, and it catches him a bit off guard, mentally double checking himself before glancing towards Adeline.

She looks stunned. He's pretty sure she couldn't look any more surprised if Joey had just pulled out a gun and shot her.

"What?" She says.

"Go home," Jason interprets. "And when things have settled down, I'll call you. But I don't owe you anything. I don't owe you a relationship. You're not my ma, even if you look like her. So go home, and I'll call you in my own time."

Jason wants to hug him. He knows it's probably not a good idea, but he kind of wants to anyway, because even though he barely knows Joey, it's still so obvious from the look on his face that it's a victory for him. That it's him standing up for himself in a way he never could at home.

"He-" Adeline says, and Jason doesn't even look at Joey's hands. He knows what to say.

"Go home," he says. "He'll call you when he's ready."

"You can't kick me out," Adeline says, and she sounds so desperate. "He's my son."

"He's not your son, Adeline," Slade says. "Our son died years ago. This is someone else's son, and if he wants to have a relationship with you, it'll be on his terms. Now go home."

Adeline falters, eyes flicking between Slade and Joey. Finally, she seems to sag.

"I'll go," she says. "But Joey -" She falters again, turning her attention to him. "Just - call me. When you're ready."

She lets herself be lead to the door by Bruce, and doesn't say another word. Joey seems to deflate the moment she's out of sight, and Jason wonders for a moment if he's going to have to catch him. In the end, he doesn't: Slade pulls Joey into a tight hug, letting Bruce handle Adeline.

Bruce doesn't return until she's through the gate.

Jason taps the security system, making sure it's all sealed up, and then turns back to them.

"Is it safe?" Roy asks, peeking out from around the corner.

"It's safe," Bruce says. "Just -"

"Family business," Roy says automatically. "Just making sure no one's dying."

"I want to know how Thomas and Barry slept through that," Slade says as he releases Joey.

"Barry didn't," Jason says. "He woke up when I got Joey, and I told him to go back to bed."

"Which is what I'm doing," Roy says with a yawn. "See you in the morning."

He immediately turns away, heading back towards his room.

"We should all do that," Bruce says.

"You guys go," Slade says. "I'll catch up. I just wanted to check in with Joey."

He's still standing at Joey's side, and Bruce gives a quick nod as Jason heads towards him, leaving Joey and Slade behind.

They find Damian and Titus standing at the entrance to the family wing.

"Is it finished?" He asks, and Bruce nods, nudging him towards his room.

"Slade's just talking with Joey," Bruce says. "So you boys should get back to bed."

Damian grunts at him and heads back to his own room, Titus at his heels.

Jason only lingers a moment longer before heading back to his own bed, exhausted beyond belief.

Chapter 11

Jason greets the morning with all the enthusiasm of a death row prisoner. He does not want to get up. He does not want to hear the story.

As much as part of him is absolutely eager to find out what happened, he also knows it's going to be bad. If it wasn't, Slade and Bruce would have just told them. The fact that they put it off a full day means it's really bad, because it's Bruce and Slade and they've dealt with all kinds of awful stuff without any major issues before.

He drags himself out of bed anyway, and soaks in the shower for longer than he probably should. His fingers have gone all pruney by the time he gets out of the shower, pulling on something comfortable to wear and heading to the kitchen.

He hasn't even sat down when he gets the rare double-hair-ruffling, with Barry standing just behind him to the right, and Roy standing just behind him to the left.

"We're heading out," Roy says. "Alfred already fed and watered us."

Even as he says that, Barry zips into an open seat, wolfing down the plate of food so fast Jason doesn't even get a chance to see what Alfred's made. Just as fast, Jason can't even see what it was, and then in the blink of an eye he's back behind Jason.

"Yep," Barry says, like he didn't just finish eating.

Jason hnnns in their direction, and they both ruffle his hair again before heading to the door.

Dick arrives and makes a meager attempt to tame Jason's hair before grabbing a seat, and Alfred delivers their food just as Bruce sweeps into the room.

"I'm going to call Kate," he says. "Last I heard she was in Europe, and if I call her now I might catch her after work and before any potential vigilantism."

"Assuming she's a vigilante at all," Jason says. "Which is a big guess."

"Worth a try," Bruce says, and Alfred tuts in his direction when he collects up his plate and heads to the office.

Dick and Jason are working through their eggs when Damian shows up, followed closely by Slade, who grabs a seat. Both of them look tired, but the food seems to help.

Slade seems to be eating fast, and Jason realizes why as he finishes up, getting to his feet.

"Making like Bruce," he says. "Going to call Denali and get him looking into Cain. He can talk to Joey when I hear back from him."

They wave him off, and Slade heads to the library to make his call.

Joey arrives with Thomas as Jason's finishing up, and he gives them a quick nod.

Dick's phone beeps, and he checks it quickly, tucking it away before Alfred can spot him using his phone at the table.

"Tim says he'll be here soon," he says. "And he's begging us to not eat all of Alfred's cooking before he does."

"I will make no promises," Damian says. "This is Tim's fault for going home."

Thomas grunts.

"Do they not live here normally?"

"Tim has a house," Jason says. "Dick and him only come for holidays."

"Or special occasions," Dick says. "I live up in Bludhaven."

"The... whaling town?" Thomas asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Casino town, now," Dick says. "I'm guessing different setup from what you're used to."

"Bludhaven was nothing in my home universe," Thomas says. "A largely abandoned town."

"Well, I do the vigilante thing there," Dick says. "It's not as big as Gotham, but it still needs attention. I just come down for family business now."

"Which counts 'Bruce and Slade tripped into another dimension'," Jason says.

"I believe saying that they tripped into it is doing them a disservice," Alfred says as he sets down his plate to sit and eat. "Your parents ended up in the position they were in because they chose to protect someone from great danger."

"We know, Al," Jason says. "We're just teasing them."

"See that you keep it light," Alfred says as he starts cutting his food. "Your parents have been through quite a bit as of late."

"So has everyone," Thomas says.

Jason's phone beeps, and he double checks it before getting up.

"Tim's here," he says. "I'm going to help them bring in whatever they need."

Whatever they need turns out to be a repurposed diaper bag loaded up with snacks and other supplies.

"Jeez," Jason says as he gives a one armed hug to Barbara. "You realize we have all this stuff here, right?"

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared," Barbara says, heading for the ramp around the side. Jason goes with her, and Tim takes Jackson's hand, walking along just behind them as Jason shoulders the bag.

"How's everyone settling in?" Tim asks.

"Well enough," Jason says with a shrug. "Slade's ex-wife showed up last night to bother us, but I think things went pretty well. Joey basically kicked her out and told her if she wanted any chance at a relationship, she was going to have to go home and wait for him to call."

"Oooh," Barbara says. "I bet that went well."

"Better than you'd expect, actually," Jason says as he gets the door.

Tim lets go of Jackson once they're inside, who proceeds to spot Titus peeking his head around the corner and immediately going after him.

"Food's on the table," Jason says. "Bruce and Slade are making calls and putting off the inevitable."

"Sounds like them," Tim says.

When they round the corner, they find an unusual scene. Jackson, lacking his grandpa, has latched onto the next closest thing. He's sitting on Thomas's knee, staring up at the old man and telling him all about... his day at preschool? Something along those lines.

The weirdest thing is Thomas's face. He's actually smiling, staring down at Jackson with all the love in the world, even as Jackson repeatedly calls him grandpa like he's Bruce.

"Jackson," Tim says. "That's not your grandpa."

Jackson looks up at Thomas, and then looks back to Tim, clearly mystified. Jason can't entirely blame him, because Bruce takes a lot after Thomas.

"This is your grandpa's dad," Tim says, grabbing a seat just beside Thomas. Thomas barely even seems to notice him or Barbara, too obviously smitten with his one and only great-grandchild.

"Dad's dad?" Jackson says, squinting at Tim.

"Dad's dad's dad," Tim says.

Jackson looks up at Thomas as if just noticing the color of his hair, and then launches back into his half-coherent story about school as if nothing has changed.

"I'm not sure you're getting him back when this is over," Jason stage whispers to Barbara.

Slade arrives, giving the new arrival a round of nods. There's not enough seats at the smaller table, but Slade takes one anyway, helping himself to some toast.

How was Wintergreen? Joey signs to him, catching Slade's eye.

"Fine," he says. "What I had to tell him lined up pretty well, so it sounds like we know what Cain's been up to. He's going to look into it some more and call me back."

Jackson turns around, spotting Slade, and hops right off Thomas's lap to head for him. Slade automatically scoops him up, depositing Jackson on his shoulder, and then feeds him a grape he pulls from the fruit plate in the center of the table.

"He's precious," Thomas says, still watching Jackson.

"He's a handful," Barbara says. "The moment he learned how to walk our lives became a desperate game of tag."

Thomas only then seems to notice their presence, startling a bit before getting up and heading over to offer a hand.

"Thomas Wayne," he says.

"Tim told me," she says, returning the handshake. "Barbara Gordon."

"Jim's daughter," Thomas says. "I knew him in my world, but he didn't have children."

"Maybe I'll get to hear the story at some point," she says. "Although we won't be here for too long. Tim made plans this afternoon."

"You make it sound like I planned around this," Tim protests. "I made those plans three weeks ago, before we knew Bruce and Slade were going to go on some interdimensional adventure."

Barbara turns her attention to Joey, and to Jason's confusion, signs at him.

Sorry, she signs. I'm a bit rusty.

Joey waves her off.

I'm mute, he signs back. Not deaf. Talking is just fine, and I can always use a phone to talk if needed.

"Oh!" She says. "That's a lot easier. I spent the morning trying to re-memorize all the signs I might need just in case. I'm a lot better at understanding then... saying. Speaking?"

I'm impressed by how many here know it, Joey signs back at her.

"We use it for work," she says. "I've been out of the field for years, but I still remember my old training. You can't always talk while you're trying to be sneaky, so Bruce made us learn it all."

Alfred arrives with three expertly balanced plates, depositing them down in front of Tim and Barbara as Jason pulls a chair out to make room for Barbara's chair.

"I'm sure they'll all be making sure you're taken care of," Barbara says, "but if you guys need anything, just yell."

Bruce arrives before Joey can say anything, holding an empty plate in one hand. Alfred collects it from him, and returns moments later with a new one.

"You didn't eat enough," Alfred says. "I doubt you were getting steady meals, and I think you've lost weight."

He gives Bruce a pointed look before ushering him over to the table. Dick and Damian both get up, and it's a rapid game of musical chairs as everyone settles back in to finish off whatever food they have left.

"How'd the call go?" Jason asks, and Bruce shrugs.

"Didn't catch her," he says. "Left a message instead, asked her to call me back when she could."

"Roy and Barry already gone?" Tim asks between bites.

"Mouth closed, daddy!" Jackson announces from his spot on Slade's shoulders.

"Yeah," Barbara says with a grin. "What'd we say about talking with our mouth full?"

Tim huffs and finishes his own food before fishing Jackson off Slade's shoulders and setting him down onto the seat, grabbing his plate and starting to make sure he actually eats it all.

"Alfred," Bruce says carefully. "While I'd prefer to have you listen, maybe it would be better for you to watch Jackson. I don't think he should be in the room."

That's bad. Whatever he has to say is alarming enough he doesn't even want Jackson nearby.

"I can," Thomas says. "I've heard all this before, and I know what happened. I can watch him."

Barbara and Tim exchange an are we going to trust this man with our baby look, and Thomas seems to recognize that the look is exactly what it is.

"You're doing it in the living room, right? We can sit in Bruce's office and watch TV or something."

Joey waves his hand to draw attention, and then signs at Tim.

I can go too, Joey signs. I've already heard it all.

Tim and Barbara breath a sigh of relief. 

"He's got books," Tim says, glancing between Joey and Thomas. "Maybe you can convince him to try and read them to Titus. He seems to do better reading to animals than people."

Titus lifts his head from his spot on the floor to look up at Tim at the sound of his name.

"And you've got your tablet," Bruce says. "So you can always check in."

"If that's sorted out," Alfred says, "perhaps I can have some help cleaning the table?"

There's a mad scramble of people clearing the table, and Jason pulls away to make sure the cameras in Bruce's office are all set up to let Barbara and Tim keep an eye on things. Barbara pulls Thomas aside for a lecture on all the things he should and shouldn't be doing, and Tim loads him down with an absolutely unreasonable number of children's books for him to read.

"You'd think they were going on a week long trip," Damian complains as he helps clear the table.

Jason? Joey signs, and Jason only just manages to catch it, turning his head fully to look at Joey. Do you have a minute?

"Sure," he says. "Was just double checking the cameras."

Joey takes a deep breath, which seems more habit than anything, since there's no actual point to the deep breath.

I just wanted to thank you, he signs. For your help last night.

"It's fine," Jason says immediately. He doesn't think it's a big deal. He thinks what he did was, all things considered, pretty minor. "I know what it's like to feel like someone's not listening to you, and she definitely wasn't."

Your birth parents? Joey signs, and Jason shakes his head.

"I mean, they didn't listen either, but I was mostly thinking of Bruce. He wasn't really... great at the whole parenting thing when I first arrived. I felt like he didn't listen a lot, and it drove a wedge between us. Things are better now, but I can still relate to that feeling, and watching someone else deal with it..."

He winces. It's not like Bruce not listening to him can be compared to what Joey goes through when someone physically turns away from him.

I don't think she meant too, Joey signs. I don't think she has much experience with someone who has to sign. I should have brought my phone.

"If she wants to have any kind of relationship with you," Jason says, "she's going to have to learn."

Joey doesn't seem to know what to say to that, and in the end he simply nods.

We should go, Joey signs. Hear what they have to say.

"You already know," Jason says, and Joey's lips press into a thin line before he finally nods.

"How bad is it?" Jason asks. He's not sure he wants to know, but it never hurt to prepare himself.

Really bad, Joey signs. You won't like it.

Ouch.

Jason reaches up, dragging his fingers through his hair, and then exhales.

"Alright," he says. "Not exactly the 'it's not that bad' I was hoping for, but here we are anyway. Go have fun with Jackson, and I'm going to go... deal with this, I guess."

He pats Joey on the shoulder and heads to the living room.

Chapter 12

They pack into the living room, all eight of them. Slade and Bruce stand up near the fireplace, the focal point of the room, and everyone else ends up on the couches and chairs. Alfred takes an armchair, as does Tim, with Barbara just beside him, a tablet resting in her lap.. Dick, Jason, and Damian grab spots on the main couch, and Jason can't help but think of the last time they all gathered like this to make a video.

He wonders if they watched it.

He hopes they did.

"We have... a bunch of stuff to go through," Bruce says. "What happened there, yes. But we also have videos from them to you, and one to the whole family. I'm not sure if we're going to be up to watching them when Slade and I are done talking. We might put that off for... an early dinner, or something like that."

The feeling of dread it only growing by the second.

"I am going to ask that you... that you not interrupt," Bruce says. "Even if you want to ask questions or anything like that. Just let us... get the whole thing out, and then we can talk about it after."

Jason wants to scream just say it, just say the worst part! But he knows that they won't. There's obviously a worst part. There's obviously some part they're trying not to say. But he needs to know what it is, needs to stare it down and deal with it before it drives him crazy.

"We'll listen," Dick says. "Just tell us."

So they do.

Bruce and Slade swap off, telling their own parts back and forth. It's as much about giving the complete story as it is about emotional support, because any time one of them starts to flag, they pass the story off and the other one takes over. They go through every part of it, bit by bit. Arriving and finding a much older Jon. Going to find Jason at the casino. Meeting Dick's friend on the roof, followed by meeting Joey. Heading to Wintergreen's safehouse. Meeting Wintergreen. Meeting Tim and Conner. Meeting Dick. Rescuing Deathstroke. Dealing with the secret prison. Encountering Batman. Coming home.

Jason is already beside himself. He's already trembling with anger, and it takes all he has to sit still, his nails biting into the fabric of his jeans. He's not the only one. Every face in the room is pale and intense, the room completely silent as Slade explains his half of things. Arriving into the motel with Joey. Going back for Damian. Talking to Rose. Getting Dinner. Heading to the cave. Then it's Bruce's turn. Meeting the Justice League. Heading to the manor. The conversation with Alfred.

It's there that things begin to break down. There where the story goes from bad to worse than they ever could have imagined. Because when Bruce tells them about his conversation with Gordon and his trip back to the Casino, he won't look at Jason. He can't. When he tells them what Jason told him about what happened, it takes all Jason has to stay perfectly still. He's not even trembling anymore. He's just perfectly still, because if he moves he's not going to stop moving.

Everyone is looking at him as Bruce carries on, talking about his dinner with the Jason that isn't him, the Jason with the monster of a father...

Jason feels like someone else is listening to Bruce talk about the family meeting. About the trial he hosted, throwing Jason out of the family to make them all realize the mistake they'd made. Helping them realize that Bruce had turned them against each other. That they'd turned their backs on one another. Slade talks about Thomas's arrival, and his plan for Gotham, and from there things seem to go quickly: Thomas and Joey both asking to go. Dick and Jason taking over the Teen Titans. About the reasons they decided to let Thomas and Joey come with them. About letting people know they were going. About their preparations.

"Then we headed through the portal," Slade says, "and you know the rest."

The room is absolutely silent. No one is willing to speak. No one is willing to break the silence after what they just heard.

Jason isn't either. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what he could possibly say.

Instead he simply gets up and leaves.

He doesn't have a destination in mind as he heads out through the back door, heading out onto the property. He heads for the trees, because it seems right, and because he can't stand to be in the house right then.

He isn't surprised when he hears footsteps coming after him, but that doesn't stop him from walking. It doesn't stop him from punching the first tree he reaches. It doesn't stop him from punching his hands bloody until someone—Slade—grabs his wrists and stops him.

"Jason," he says, and the house of cards that is Jason's self control collapses.

He cries. He doesn't want to admit it—wouldn't admit it to another living soul—but he cries. Slade scoops him up, pulling him close, and rubs at his back as he sobs his eyes out.

It's too much. It's too much to hear. Every detail feels like it's burned into his memory, and he's struggling to imagine how Bruce and Slade even got through it, dealing with things face to face. How could they even look at the other Jason, knowing what happened to him? How could they tolerate any of that? How did they not just go straight to Bruce's liquor cabinet and drink until they passed out?

He can't imagine it. He doesn't want to.

"Bruce would never hurt you," Slade says, still rubbing circles in Jason's back. "Never. He'd never touch you. He'd cut off his own hand before he did what the other Bruce did."

Slade doesn't get it. He doesn't understand, even if he's trying, and Jason shakes his head, reaching up to rub at his eyes to try and stem the tears. No amount of rubbing is making them stop though, and he chokes out something that's meant to be it's not that and comes out completely incomprehensible instead.

Slade keeps trying. He keeps trying anyway, telling Bruce is different, that he's different, that what happened to the other Jason is terrible, but that things will be better for him now, that he has family and friends and people at his back.

But that isn't it.

"No," Jason croaks, pulling away from Slade enough to speak. "It's not that. It's Bruce. Their Bruce. He was here, Slade. He was here and we were nice to him. We didn't know what he did. We just... we treated him like he was part of the family. We made a place for him at the table and tried to be supportive. Even though we knew he kicked the other Jason out, Slade!"

They were stupid. They should have asked. They knew the other Jason had been kicked out, and they should have known there was only one person who could have done that. They should have sat him down and demanded to know what it was that he was hiding. They should have known.

Slade hasn't stopped the small, comforting gestures. They're sitting down (even if Jason doesn't actually remember sitting down on the grass), and Slade's cradling his hands, applying a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding of Jason's knuckles. They probably need medical attention. Actual bandages. But Jason isn't up to walking right then, and they both know it.

"You didn't know," Slade says. "You thought he would be like your father. He'd never have done any of that, so you couldn't have guessed that Batman would."

"I should have known it was more than just him being broody, Slade. I should have... should have read more into his reactions. He was nice to me, Slade. He was accommodating and polite and I should have known that was bullshit."

"It's more complicated than that, kiddo," Slade says, pulling Jason up against his chest. "People aren't just good and evil. Maybe he saw you and realized what he could have had. Maybe he realized he made a mistake. Maybe you being nice to him will give him the opportunity to make things right with his Jason back at home."

"Fuck him," Jason snaps, burying his face into Slade's shirt and taking a moment to try and recover before he can speak again. There's a lump in his throat and his entire face aches from crying, so he reaches for the anger he feels burning in his chest.

Anger is easier to process than sadness. Anger is an old friend to Jason.

"He doesn't deserve that," he says. "He doesn't deserve to ever even... to ever even look at his children again. If he feels even slightly sorry, he should never speak to them again. He should take all his money and fly off to a fucking monastery and never leave."

Slade kisses the top of his head like he always used to, and Jason quiets down, curling against him.

"Fuck him," he finishes.

"I know," Slade says. "But he's gone now. He's gone, and... we've done everything we could. We gave them the tools, and now it's up to them to use them."

"Did you tell them they could come?" Jason asks, leaning back to watch Slade's face.

"Yes," he says. "Joey and Thomas asked first, but we made it clear they could come if they wanted. Jason... wanted to make sure that Bruce saw justice. He wanted to make sure the family didn't forgive him for what he'd done."

It sounds like him. It sounds like him when he's angry. The most intense if no one else is going to do it, then I guess I'm going to have to anger.

He can relate. He wishes he couldn't, but he can.

"I know you probably just want to sit here," Slade says, "but I'm pretty sure you've bruised your legs squeezing at them during the talk, and your hands look like someone took a weed whacker to them, and if I don't get you some medical attention, Alfred's going to come after me in my sleep."

Jason cracks a tiny smile at that, and lets Slade help him up.

"We can just go down to the cave," he says. "And then sit a bit longer."

He wants that. He just wants to stay with Slade and no one else and just process. He doesn't know how he's supposed to handle knowing what he knows, but every time he tries to think about it, the mental image of Bruce hitting him so hard he breaks his helmet keeps running through his mind.

He doesn't talk as Slade guides him back to the storage shed, into the elevator and down into the cave. It's empty, and Slade sits him in the computer chair and goes to get a first aid kit.

"You did a number on them," Slade says, mostly to himself as he inspects the damage. "I think you might have also killed that poor tree. I'll have to get Alfred to check later."

Jason barely registers it when Slade starts to work, pulling pieces of bark and wood out with tweezers and then dousing his injuries in antiseptic. It's slow going, and there's something almost reassuring about watching Slade work through it bit by bit.

"Do you want to watch your video?" Slade asks. "From the other you. A response to the video you sent him."

Jason doesn't know if he's ready, but he nods anyway.

Slade pulls away and goes to set up the video, pulling it up onto the big screen. Even more ridiculously, he grabs a pair of the big sound cancelling headphones from under the desk, popping them on over his ears and coaxing Jason's hands forward to get back to work.

"Don't mind me," he says as he reaches back to hit the spacebar, starting up the video.

The other Jason is younger than him. Jason hasn't seen a picture of him yet, but he guessed just from looking at everyone else. He's not Tim young, but he can't even be twenty five. Maybe twenty-one? Twenty-two? Something fresh and young.

Even so, he looks older than his years. He's got stress lines that mimic Jason's own, even if he doesn't have any of the obvious scars that Jason's used to finding on his reflection. This Jason didn't suffer for years at the Joker's hand. This Jason just died.

Jason can't help but feel that was the easier of their two fates, and then feels guilty for thinking that.

"So," the other-Jason says, leaning back in his chair. He's wearing a nice red collared shirt, with a black jacket pulled on overtop. Casino wear, his brain fills in. "Hopefully you're watching this after you've heard the whole thing from your Bruce. If you haven't, you probably want to stop this right now and go make him tell you, because I'm not going to re-explain it all. Hopefully he tells you the whole thing, too, because if not you're going to be in for a hard conversation."

The other Jason's skepticism of Bruce is clear in the way he talks about it, even if he doesn't say Bruce with as much venom as Jason would expect. Maybe his Bruce won the other Jason over. Maybe the other Jason just split the two Bruce's in his head.

"Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure what to say. As far as I can tell, you've pretty much got your shit in order. You've got a dad who loves you, even if he is Deathstroke, and another dad who isn't a complete bag of shit. You've got family and support and a job, and you're fucking Batman."

The other Jason seems quite intent on that, his eyes seeming to light up as he says it.

"So it was hard to figure out what message to send. It's not like I've got any advice to give you, considering the sorry state of my life, but... I did want to send something anyway. Your video... helped. It helped me remember that the family wasn't just Bruce. It doesn't matter what Bruce says or does, because everyone else is still there. And now that Bruce and Slade have taken a wrecking ball through the whole family dynamic, maybe there's a chance they'll stick up for me when our Bruce comes back and starts lording it over everyone."

Jason hopes that's true. He hopes Dick and Tim and everyone stands up for him. He doesn't see how they can't.

But then he doesn't understand how the other Bruce could lay a hand on Jason. He doesn't understand how he could hurt his son.

"I thought about coming back with them," Jason says. "Honestly. When they said it, my brain went yes, take it. But I couldn't. I couldn't just... leave everything. I've got friends here. People I care about. And I've never been very good at cutting my losses when things get shitty."

A trait they share, apparently.

"They told me that you still had your Roy," he says. "That's... take care of him. Give him a hug for me. I know my Roy's going to be back before too long, but that doesn't change that I miss him. He's a good friend. So make sure he knows it."

He knows about Roy. It was part of Bruce's explanation. But it was a brief touch with no real elaboration, and it's different watching his counterpart's lips twitch when he says his name, like he's pushing down an emotion he won't deal with. Roy's dead, but that other Jason is still waiting for him to get back.

The other Jason scratches at his arm, looking off to the side at something out of frame, and then his eyes flick back to the camera.

"That's pretty much it, I think," he says. "I don't know what else to say. Thanks, I guess? For everything. For the video. For lending me your parents."

The other Jason's voice cracks when he says parents, and it kills Jason to hear.

"So... show them you love them, say hi to everyone for me, and all that."

Another awkward arm scratch, and the other Jason takes a deep breath.

"Hopefully things get better here," he says. "Hopefully if we ever meet again, I've got some good stories for you."

Then he leans forward, and the recording stops.

Jason stares at the black screen for a long while, and then looks down to Slade. His hands are bandaged already, and Slade's kneeling on the floor, obviously just waiting for the video to be over. Jason reaches forward to take off the headset, but Slade beats him to it, scowling up at him.

"No doing anything with your hands," he says. "They need to heal. If you try, I'll stick them both in casts to make sure you don't."

Jason uses them anyway, pulling Slade into another hug, and Slade stops arguing.

"Good video?" He says, and Jason simply nods against his shoulder.

Chapter 13

Slade doesn't make him go upstairs. He stays with him down in the cave, and when it's obvious Jason's in no hurry to go upstairs, Slade ends up putting on a movie.

Jason's pretty sure Bruce would consider it a gross misuse of batcomputer resources, but he's also pretty sure Bruce wouldn't say a word about it right then.

He feels like a child, or at least what a child is supposed to be. Sitting with his dad. Watching movies.

But there's no universe out there where Jason got to have a childhood like this. There's no universe where he got to spend his early years curled up against his father, watching movies like nothing else in the world matters.

Alfred comes down midway through the movie. He doesn't talk about what happened, but when he spots Jason's bandaged hands he makes Jason hold his hands out, carefully removing Slade's terrible bandage job and redoing it properly.

Slade has never been very good at first aid.

"If you aren't ready to come upstairs yet," Alfred says, "then that isn't an issue. I'll bring you lunch down here."

Jason doesn't know if he's ready. He's not sure he can look at anyone right then, so he only nods.

Alfred brings him a meal with all his favorites, and it's only once he's eaten that he feels together enough to go back upstairs with Slade. He feel stupid, and maybe a little bit overdramatic, but everyone is being almost disgustingly accomodating.

The house is emptier than he expects when they return. He expects it to be a boatload of overly solemn people who are going to pretend like he wasn't just crying his eyes out and mashing his hands into pulp. Instead he gets... almost no one.

They find Alfred, Thomas, Joey, Barbara, and Jackson sitting in one of the side rooms. Thomas is blatantly doting on Jackson, and Barbara and Joey seem to be having some sort of conversation in sign. Alfred sits by himself, reading slowly through a book as if he hasn't heard anything at all.

Jason knows Alfred well enough to know that he's really bothered when he's retreating into books rather than dealing with things that actually matter right then.

"Hey," Jason says, and winces at the sound of his voice.

You alright? Joey signs, looking grim.

"Fine," he says automatically, before realizing that he probably sounds like he's lying out his ass. "Doing better," he corrects. "Where'd everyone else go?"

Alfred sets his book aside, sitting up a bit more.

"Master Tim has taken Master Damian to go into town and pick up supplies," Alfred says. "Master Dick is, last I checked, still out back with Master Bruce, chopping wood."

Jason wonders if he misheard.

"Chopping wood?"

"Master Dick had some very choice words to say about our previous visitor," Alfred says. "And has managed to convince Master Bruce that it would be a good idea to burn the bed he slept in."

Jason definitely misheard.

"I'm sorry," he says, "are you saying they're out back hacking up the bed we let him sleep in?"

"It took a bit of convincing to get him to dispose of the mattress properly," Alfred says. "Master Tim declared he would give up his bed to the guest room and sleep on the floor if necessary. They've gone to dump the mattress, the sheets are already disposed of, and they're planning a bonfire."

Alfred seems ever so slightly amused by the very idea.

"A bonfire," Jason says, glancing back to Slade. Slade looks just as confused as he feels.

"Bruce approved this?" Slade asks.

"Master Bruce fetched the axes himself," Alfred says. "I think he feels it might be cathartic to do some damage."

"You," Slade says with a glance to Jason, "are not allowed. Your hands aren't going to be able to take it, and I don't want to have to make a trip to the hospital."

Jason huffs.

"I wasn't planning to," he says. "I already brutalized enough wood."

Slade rolls his eye at that and then lightly pats Jason on the back.

"I'm going to check in on Bruce," he says. "You want to stay here?"

"I'll come out later," Jason says, settling in on a seat just beside Barbara instead. Slade nods and heads out.

"That was something," Barbara says once he's left. "I don't think I was ready for it."

"Not sure anyone could be ready for that," Jason says. "What else did I miss?"

"Jackson's decided that Thomas is gray grandpa and had to be convinced to call him Thomas."

I think he's wounded he's not getting called great grandpa, Joey signs.

Probably, Jason quickly signs back.

Thomas doesn't even seem to notice. He's smitten with Jackson, and Jason grins over at Barbara, signing in her direction.

Careful, he's going to try and come home with you, Jason signs.

Don't give him any ideas, Barbara signs, her gestures slow and careful as she tries to remember the exact gestures.

Alfred is frowning at them, which means he's noticed what they're doing and doesn't approve of them talking about Thomas behind his back.

"I need to make a call," Jason says with a sigh, reaching up to rub at his forehead. "And then I think I'm going to check outside."

There's a round of nods, and Jason heads back towards his room. He prefers making calls in there, in relative privacy, and this call in particular needs an extra level of comfort, so he crawls onto the bed on top of the sheets and dials.

"Afternoon Jason," comes the voice on the other end.

"Mor- Afternoon, Hudson," Jason says right back.

He likes Hudson, and right then he's just happy that Hudson gave him a clear call whenever you need it. He's trying to imagine what he'd be doing if he had to wait till Tuesday for his regularly scheduled appointment.

"Should I expect this call means that they came back?" His therapist asks, and Jason rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to figure out where to even start.

"Yeah," he says. "They got back yesterday. They brought... Bruce's father-from-another-dimension, and Slade's not-dead-son-from-another-dimension."

Hudson makes a noise that Jason knows him well enough to recognize as an oh boy, where do I even start?

"Should I move up our next appointment?"

"If you can," Jason says. "I don't have work tomorrow, and I'm not sure what my schedule is going to be like."

"I've got an appointment open at ten," Hudson says. "That work?"

"That works for me," Jason says. His schedule is pretty much free right then, and Michael isn't expecting him back for almost another week. "Oh. I think we're going to try and get them both into therapy. Do you have... uh, recommendations?"

"What do you think I'd be looking at?" Hudson asks, and Jason can hear him shuffling papers as he does.

"Uh. The older one probably has PTSD or something-"

"We don't guess at diagnosis, Jason," Hudson says gently.

"The older one is dealing with a large amount of untreated, unprocessed trauma," he corrects. "The younger one... uh, family troubles? And he's mute, so if you have someone who's sign-friendly..."

"I have a colleague who works heavily with the deaf community," Hudson says. "I'll send you their contact information, and I'll find someone for the older one."

Hudson pauses just for a moment.

"...Wouldn't that be Thomas Wayne?"

"That'd be him," Jason says. "Younger than he should be, though."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'll send you those by this afternoon, and I'll see you for our appointment."

"Thanks Hudson," Jason says, rolling right back over onto his stomach. "I'll see you then."

He hangs up, checks his phone, and then calls his office.

"This is Wayne Enterprise, how can I help you?" Michael answers, and Jason sighs.

"Jason?" He guesses. "I saw they got back yesterday."

"Yeah. Just a little bit exhausting to deal with now," he says. "How's work?"

"Doing just fine," Michael says. "I've got a stack of things for you to sign if you come by the office, but I can hold the fort at least another week without any sort of issue."

"Did the Mendez thing get figured out?"

"Already handled."

Jason feels a flood of relief. Nothing's burning down without him. Everything is fine, and in order, and he doesn't have to stress about it.

"Thanks," he says. "Sorry for being so flakey."

"Jason," Michael says in his you are being an idiot voice, "considering the circumstances I'm surprised you're even calling."

"I couldn't just leave you high and dry," he says. "But I'm going to try and stop by in the next few days. Get those papers signed."

"Any time you want to come in, you can," Michael says. "I'll leave them on your desk with a sticky note."

"Thanks," Jason says. "And thanks for being there."

Michael's silent on the other end, and Jason feels like he can feel the other man's scrutiny.

"You feeling alright?"

"Just got some... less than pleasant news," he says. "I'll tell you about it when I see you next."

Even if his office line is secure, he doesn't want to share that over the phone.

"Alright," Michael says. "I'll see you around. Say hi to the family for me."

"Will do," Jason says, and then says his goodbyes before hanging up.

He's not sure he's up to any more  phonecalls, so instead he drops into the group chat.

Jason: Not dead.
Harper: Woah! No kidding.
Cullen: If you were dead, I'm pretty sure we'd have heard about it.
Harper: Considering who he is? Nah, they'd have kept it a secret and we'd never know.
Jason: You wouldn't believe the absolute disaster the house is right now.
Cullen: Everyone get back alright?

Jason ponders for a moment how to answer. For the most part, he shares almost everything with them, but this...

Jason: Bruce and Slade brought friends with them. It's weird, but I'll fill you in next time I see you guys.
Cullen: They brought friends from another dimension???
Harper: One day you'll stop being surprised by all the weird shit Jason's family gets up to.
Cullen: I hope that day never comes.

There's no sign of Amina, but that doesn't mean much. If she's at work, she's probably not checking her phone for anything other than an emergency alert, and... well, this isn't that.

Jason: Going to go deal with family stuff. I'll let you guys know.
Cullen: You got it.
Harper: Don't be a stranger.

Jason tucks his phone away, rolls out of bed, and is halfway to the door before he remembers to let Barry and Roy know the house is safe to come back to. Only once that's done does he head for the backyard, wary about what he's going to find.

Chapter 14

The wooden four post bed that once occupied the guest room is all but gone, chopped into little bits, and Slade's hauled up a downed tree from the back of the property up instead. Dick and Bruce are alternating chops at it, breaking it up into smaller, more burnable pieces, and both of them are absolutely soaked with sweat while Slade stands back, supervising.

When Bruce spots him, he stops, glancing towards him for a moment before turning back, burying the ax in the trunk, and then heading towards him.

Jason doesn't let him talk, just pulls Bruce into a hug. It feels weird having Bruce practically melt into him, burying his face against Jason's shoulder, but it's painfully obvious to him that Bruce needs it as much as he does right then.

Bruce was there, after all. Bruce had to look the other Jason in the face and listen to what his counterpart had done. He had to meet them all. And then he had to come back home and look at all of them and not just break down.

It takes a little bit before Bruce is willing to let go, staring down at him. He looks so sad.

"I would never-"

"I know," Jason says immediately. "I know you wouldn't. There's a lot of reasons I got upset and walked out, but that wasn't one of them, alright? I was just... angry that we were nice to him. That we were just hanging out with him like it wasn't a big deal, oblivious to... to what he'd done."

Bruce glances towards Dick, who's still working at the tree trunk, and then turns back to him.

"Dick said the same thing," he says. "The boys had a whole what should we do about this and Alfred had to talk them out of a bunch of things. In the end, Alfred's disposed of the sheets he used and the clothes he left behind, and we're just going to burn the bed. Make a bonfire of it."

"I heard," Jason says, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He suspects they'll end up leaving the room he used empty, at least for a while.

"You want to talk about it?" Bruce says quietly, and Jason makes himself nod, because yes, that's the correct answer, even if he's not sure he's ready just yet.

They end up sitting on the porch, watching Dick burn himself out chopping up the tree. Eventually, Slade grabs the ax Bruce left behind and gets to work, taking full advantage of his enhanced strength.

"I think it would have been easier if he was mean," Jason says as he watches. "If he'd been an asshole. But he was... he was polite? He was a good guest. Their Slade was... I mean, he was what you'd expect, considering he was still Deathstroke. He quieted down when it became obvious he couldn't get out, but for the most part he just acted like a prisoner. When we talked, it was us talking at him. He didn't tell us about anything, or anything like that. So it was easier to... separate him. That Slade wasn't our Slade. He was a different person."

He makes himself exhale, sinking back in his seat.

"But their Bruce acted just like you did back when you first took me in. When you were doing the whole... angry broody Batman thing. So we all just assumed he was still like that. That you were still at that stage, and hadn't realized that things could get better, and then..."

He sighs, burying his face in his hands, and takes a second to process.

"He was surprised when I was here," he adds. "He seemed confused, like he couldn't understand why I'd be living in your house. We all just assumed it was because he was an idiot who hadn't yet reconciled. But we just explained things and he just accepted it and sometimes he... sometimes he looked at me and I thought it was him thinking maybe I could have this with my Jason and now I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to think."

"Don't," Bruce says. "Don't think about him at all. He doesn't deserve a place in your mind. You did the right thing, being kind to a guest, and you shouldn't be blaming yourself for not having... psychically known he was like that."

He still thinks he should have known. He still thinks he should have been able to tell. How could he not tell?

"Let me see your hands," Bruce says, and Jason leans forward, letting him inspect them without really thinking about it. Bruce makes a face, but he doesn't actually say anything, gently trailing his fingers across the bandages.

"Alfred?" He guesses.

"Slade wrapped them up first," Jason says. "Alfred redid them."

"Be careful about them," Bruce says. "I don't want you aggravating them, so let everyone else handle things for you, alright?"

Jason knows there's absolutely no chance he's going to do that, but he nods anyway.

Bruce stares at him for a moment, and then pulls him in for another hug.

"I was..." Bruce starts, his voice cracking, and it takes him a moment to catch himself and try again. "I was afraid you'd think we were alike."

The pain there is so obvious and raw, like an open wound.

"No," Jason says. "You're my father. I know you'd never do... any of that stuff. Any of it."

Bruce brushes his fingers through Jason's hair for a moment, and then pulls back.

"I smell," he complains, squinting down at himself. "And I think you probably do too."

"Worth it," Jason says. "And stop beating yourself up over it."

The look on Bruce's face means he's not going to stop any time soon, and Jason elbows him in the side.

"I mean it," he says. "You did a lot. You... you helped the other Jason. You gave him hope. So stop beating yourself up for what someone else did. You're not the other Bruce, and he's not you."

"Don't you worry," Slade says as he approaches. Unlike Dick and Bruce, he looks more or less unbothered by all the wood he just chopped. He looks like he just spent a leisurely afternoon sunbathing, not that he just chopped a tree trunk into bite sized pieces. "I've been giving him that speech every thirty seconds."

"Maybe upgrade to every twenty," Jason says.

"I'll take it under advisement," Slade says with a snort, looping his arm around Bruce's waist and pulling him in for a kiss.

Dick returns from stowing the axes, heading towards them and grabbing a bottle of water he'd stashed.

"I'm just saying," Dick says, "he's lucky he's over there. Because if he ever came back, we'd descend on him like a pack of wolves."

"No you wouldn't," Slade says, and for a moment Jason thinks he's chiding Dick for being... what, violent? "If he came back, you'd never get to see him."

The glint in Slade's eye makes it very clear that if the other Bruce came back, he'd regret every second of it.

Chapter 15

Things feel quieter that evening. Barry and Roy come back, and both seem deeply aware that something has happened, even if they don't know what. Alfred serves them dinner, and then Tim, Barbara, and Jackson head home. Dick says he's going to stay for the fire, but the rest of the family has places to be.

Thomas looks genuinely upset when Jackson finally has to go, even if Jackson does wave enthusiastically at him as Tim carries him to the car.

"Nice to have you back," Jason says with a snort, and Thomas shoots him a confused look.

"I've been here the whole time," he says, sounding defensive.

Debatable, Joey signs.

"Joey says that's debatable," Dick says, "and I agree. You've been checked out since the moment Jackson showed up."

Thomas makes a little hnnn noise the same way Bruce always used to and doesn't argue.

Bruce excuses himself to take a call just before dinner, and doesn't come back until everyone is well into eating. When he does come back, there's a whole round of are you going to fill us in? looks from the table.

"That was Kate," he says. "We had a whole conversation about things, but I don't think she's actually a vigilante in this timeline."

"You think,"  Slade says.

"We're going to keep in touch," Bruce says. "And I'll keep an ear to the ground."

"Considering she's your cousin, isn't it a bit underhanded to maintain a relationship just to double check she's not secretly a vigilante?" Thomas says.

"Considering I explicitly said the words 'you wouldn't happen to be operating as a vigilante?' and she said 'no', I'm going to say that no, there's nothing underhanded about it," Bruce says.

"You just asked?" Dick says. "Just like that?"

"Yes," Bruce says. "I didn't see a point in... dragging things out. Better to just ask."

"You guys are wild," Roy says. "Honestly."

"That's why you're here," Jason says, elbowing Roy in the side. "Because you're not going to get weirdness like this anywhere else."

"I could go hang out with the Kents," Roy says. "Have you ever seen Clark speed-cook with his laser eye thing?"

"Wait," Dick says. "That's a thing?"

"Lois lectures him every time he does," Bruce says. "She doesn't want Jon doing it at school."

"Jon already does it at school," Damian says. "He's just careful about it."

"Don't tell Clark that," Bruce says. "Jon will never hear the end of it."

They have a bonfire that night, stacking the wood up on a patch of dirt out back. The fire's high enough that Bruce gets a concerned call from the local fire station, and he's forced to reassure them that everything is under control.

Damian makes several attempts to convince people to go on patrol—he's definitely going stir crazy—and in the end it's Slade he manages to lure away. Jason's pretty sure Slade's feeling guilty about neglecting him, so they get a quick wave from the group as they head out for patrol.

"Oh thank god," Roy says. "I thought he was never going to leave."

Jason is about to say that Roy's being rude until Roy produces a 24-pack of beer so low quality that Dick actually makes a disgusted sound.

"Roy, you realize we have an actual liquor cabinet, right?"

"You're not getting drunk off my supply," Bruce says, eyeing the beer. "Has it occurred to you that you shouldn't get drunk around a giant bonfire?"

"For the record," Barry says, "I can't actually get drunk. So I'm the designated sober companion."

Alfred retires inside, but not before providing several bottles of not obscenely expensive alcohol. Thomas and Bruce both look on with a shared look of obvious disapproval, but eventually head inside themselves, retiring for the night.

Jason thinks it's the most blatant let the boys hang out he's ever seen. Dick's the oldest one left there, and he's already three beers in.

"You've been quiet," Jason says to Joey before abruptly realizing what he just said and going pink. The only mercy is that the firelight is probably hiding the worst of his mortification.

Just thinking, he signs, and it feels sort of surreal watching his hands in the firelight. He has a beer, but just one, and Jason reaches back without looking, retrieving one for himself.

"About?"

Slade, Joey signs. He finger-spells the whole thing, and Jason has a general feeling that means he hasn't quite decided how to refer to him just yet. In fact, now that he thinks about it, Joey's basically been finger-spelling everyone's names.

"Do you regret coming?" Jason asks, putting his foot in his mouth for the second time in less than a minute. He can't even blame the alcohol, because he's had exactly one mouthful of the world's most awful beer.

He makes an attempt to remedy that, taking a few quick gulps from the bottle.

No, Joey signs. I'm just trying to figure out how I want things to be with him. I thought things would be different.

Jason feels a clench of discomfort at that, but nods anyway.

"Want to talk about it?" He asks, giving Roy, Dick, and Barry a quick glance to make sure no one's doing anything stupid.

No one is right then, so he turns back, giving Joey his full attention. When Joey signs, it's stuttery, like Joey can't quite decide what he's going to say and keeps changing his mind.

Slade isn't pop, he signs. No matter how nice he is, that doesn't change anything about pop or how things were. I think I was being naive, thinking that it would fix things automatically.

"That's not naive," Jason says. "That's just... hopeful. You wanted something better than what you got." He doesn't think he could blame Joey if he was jealous. Jason got what Joey never got to have.

It's still naive, Joey signs. I'm happy I'm here, and I'm happy I get to talk to everyone. I guess I'm just thinking about the people I left behind.

His parents are the obvious ones, but there's others. Rose. His friends. The boyfriend he broke up with just before coming. Even with all of them there, Joey's more isolated than almost anyone else. He doesn't have a support structure.

Jason supposes Thomas doesn't either, but Thomas is also more than seventy years old and a Wayne. The Wayne name has a reputation that will get him places. He was someone. Joey, on the other hand, has no reputation to lean on.

Jason can only imagine that right then he feels very, very alone.

"Sorry," Jason says. "I wish I could help."

No, Joey signs. You're doing just fine. You've been really helpful. I just need a bit of time to adjust.

Time. Jason knows what that's like, and he nods. He's just opening his mouth to reply when Dick bustles right on over, planting his chair directly between them.

"That's it," he says. "I'm hanging out on this side of the fire and you can't get rid of me."

"What?" Jason says. "What's going on with them?"

Jason moves to lean over, and Dick reaches out, grabbing his arm and hauling him back. He can only barely see them on the other side of the fire, and he squints at Dick.

"What," he says. "Just say it."

"Did you know Roy and Barry were dating?"

Jason chokes on his drink.

"What?!" He says, trying to lean back over, and Dick hauls him back.

"Stop spying," Dick says. "They're having a moment."

"They are not dating," Jason hisses. "They'd have told me."

"Well Barry's tongue is making friends with Roy's tonsils, so they're definitely something."

Jason considers his beer, then changes it out for one of the bottles Alfred got, drinking straight from the bottle.

God, he needs to be drunk for this.

Wait, Joey signs, which is a hell of a lot harder to follow than it probably should be. Is Roy drunk?

"Oh god," Jason says. "Hold on."

He picks himself up, circling around the fire, and oh god, Roy is absolutely in Barry's lap and now that's going to be burned into his eyeballs for the rest of his life.

"Roy!" He says, and Roy jumps, twisting around to stare at him like a deer in the headlights.

"Jay?" He says, as if hoping that maybe he's imagining Jay looking at him in his current position.

"Are you drunk?"

Roy squints at him, and Jason's been around Roy enough to know that means no, because Roy is a giggly drunk and he's definitely not giggling right then.

"Little tipsy," he admits.

Jason grunts.

"Just checking," he says, and then circles back around the fire to his seat. Dick and Joey lean forward, curious.

"So?" Dick says.

"Roy's sober," Jason says. "Or at least sober enough. We can have that conversation tomorrow, because I am definitely not having it tonight."

Fair, Joey signs. Pass me something strong.

Dick grabs him a bottle and hands it right on over, and the three of them spend the next hour pretending like Roy and Barry aren't making out on the other side of the bonfire.

Chapter 16

Jason wakes with a throbbing headache. He doesn't exactly remember getting into bed the night before, but it is his room he's in, which seems like a good sign. He drags himself out of bed, finds his shirt tossed in the tub with a bunch of soot on it, and then kicks it to the side, showering off.

He's got a lot of soot on him. He's not sure how, but it's goddamn everywhere. In his hair, on his skin... It takes way longer than usual to get it all off, and even then he's not entirely sure he got it all. Even worse, it's so everywhere he has to actually pay attention while showering, which is an entirely unpleasant experience.

His head's still throbbing when he arrives to breakfast. Bruce is already there, along with Thomas, Slade, and Alfred, but he's the only one under thirty there.

"That," Bruce says, "was a one time thing." He gives Jason a look that Jason can only described as extremely fatherly.

"What exactly did I do last night?" Jason asks, rubbing at his temple.

Alfred steps into the dining room, setting down a completely empty whiskey bottle on the table.

Jason is pretty sure it was almost entirely full the night before, and he winces.

"You got exceptionally drunk," Bruce says. "As did... more or less everyone. Dick was supposed to go home tonight, and instead he spent the night. And now half the League's going to have to go to the meeting with a hangover."

Jason's pretty sure he'd find the idea of that hilarious, except for the fact that he also has a hangover, so instead he simply sinks his forehead down to the table.

"I'll play good cop," Slade says, dropping a bunch of bottles of an electrolyte solution beside Jason. "Drink."

Jason grabs a grape one and drinks half of it. He's used to the taste from having them while on missions, and he knows it'll at the very least help with the dehydration.

"Any idea why I was covered in soot?" Jason asks.

"You doused the fire in a particularly stupid manner," Bruce says. "And all the soot got everywhere. I doubt you're the only one."

"I suppose this means I should go strip your sheets," Alfred says. "And clean up the rest of the mess."

Jason winces.

"Sorry Al."

Slade nudges the bottles towards him.

"Go deliver these," he says. "Be the bearer of gifts and good tidings. You can have food when you get back."

Jason can't help feel like he just got kicked out of the room, and he hmphs the whole way to Dick's room, knocking once.

"Let me die," Dick groans from inside, and Jason lets himself in, dropping two bottles of the cherry flavor onto his nightstand.

"Drink up," he says. "And then maybe I'll consider it."

Dick doesn't even look up, blindly reaching out with his hand as he grabs around, feeling along the nightstand until Jason slides a bottle into his hand. Only then does he roll over, drinking the entire first bottle in one go.

"Thanks," he mumbles. "Now let me die."

Then Dick rolls right back on over, cradling the empty bottle in his arms.

"Drama queen," Jason says, ruffling Dick's hair while he's got his guard down, and then heads out.

Everyone else is in the guest wing on the far side of the house, and Jason's just arriving, his arms loaded with bottles, when he spots Joey.

Joey, who looks completely fucking fine like last night was a walk in the park.

"...Weren't you drunk?" Jason asks, squinting at him. Joey's already dressed. He doesn't even look... He doesn't even look ruffled.

I can hold my alcohol, Joey signs, grinning at him the whole while.

"Apparently you're the only one," Jason complains.

And you did challenge Dick to a drinking contest, Joey adds.

Jason groans. That would explain the majority of his headache. He's not exactly a lightweight, but trying to drink Dick under the metaphorical table...

Not a smart idea.

"Please tell me that I won."

I'm afraid that would be a lie, Joey signs, clapping him on the shoulder and flashing a quick see you over his shoulder as he heads for the kitchen.

Barry wasn't drunk, but he seems like a better option than Roy, so Jason knocks anyway.

Barry answers it in his pajamas, yawning widely. When he spots who's at the door, he immediately goes as red as his costume.

"Oh," he says. "Hi."

Jason offers a bottle as a peace offering, and Barry takes it, drinking it down before looking at Jason. He looks... embarrassed. Really embarrassed.

"I'm not mad," Jason says, heading that thought off at the pass.

"Please do not say 'just disappointed'," Barry says with a groan.

"A little bit," Jason says. No point in lying. "Kind of wish you guys had told me."

He's pretty sure it wasn't a one-time-only thing that just so happened to happen last night.

"We were going to!" Barry protests. "Only we didn't want to do it over the phone, and Roy didn't want me to be the only one there, so we decided we'd tell you the next time we saw you, because it was only like three weeks to the League meeting, and than-"

"Slow," Jason says, and Barry does slow down, no longer the rapid fire ramble that it was becoming.

"And then your dads got kidnapped and we couldn't just drop it on you in the middle of that. And then they came back, but now you've got like two new people around, and then..."

"And then Roy got drunk and handsy."

"And then Roy got drunk and handsy," Barry confirms. "I swear, we weren't trying to hide it or anything."

Jason is... well, he's not entirely sure how he feels about things. It's not that he's against it, more like he had absolutely no feelings about it at all until it clubbed him over the head by existing.  

"You're really not mad?" Barry asks, squinting at him.

"I mean," Jason says, "right now I'm trying to decide who I should be giving the 'if you break his heart' lecture to."

"Definitely Roy," Barry says. "He's a real heartbreaker."

"I'll take that under advisement."

Jason pauses, looking Barry over, and then grunts.

"I didn't even know you liked guys."

"I mean," Barry says, "I'd say like... ninety percent women?"

"And Roy."

"And Roy."

Jason pauses, and then grins.

"I was going to make a comment, but you know what? That'd be hitting below the belt."

He holds out the rest of the bottles.

"Want to go take care of your boyfriend?" Jason asks, and Barry chokes.

"Nope," He says. "You can baby him, I'm going to get breakfast."

Barry zips past him, and Jason rolls his eyes, heading for Roy's room. Roy doesn't respond when he knocks, and when he still hasn't responded at the third knock he cracks the door and finds his bed empty.

He feels a flutter of concern, but he finds Roy in the bathroom, cradling the toilet and obviously half asleep.

"Oh hell, Roy," he says, dropping the bottles on the edge of the sink and hauling Roy up.

Roy offers a groan, and he feels stupid. Shouldn't have had so much alcohol near him—Roy's never been able to manage his own intake. If there's a bottle in front of him, he's going to drink it.

He cleans him off and drags him to bed, tucking him in before making him drink from one of the bottles.

"Orange?" Roy protests through bleary eyes. "You know I hate orange."

"I found you hugging a toilet, Roy," Jason says. "Drink some fluid."

He'd been planning to give Roy a whole talk, but he's pretty sure Roy's going to need all the sleep he can get before they have to leave. The only mercy is that the meeting's in the early afternoon.

"Go back to bed," he says. "You can eat in the car."

"Oh fuck," Roy mumbles into his sheets. "Do we really have a meeting today?"

"We do," Jason says. "So sleep while you can."

"Bruce is going to be disappointed in me," Roy says, and he looks so wounded.

"Bruce already knows you're sleeping off a hangover," Jason says. "But if it's bothering you that much, maybe think about not drinking so much next time."

Roy makes a nghhhh noise and buries his face under the sheets. Jason makes sure he's properly tucked in, leaving another bottle for him on the nightstand before leaving, heading back towards the kitchen.

When he gets there, he registers—for the first time—that Slade is there.

"Wait a second," Jason says, squinting in Slade's direction. "Weren't you on patrol?"

He knows Damian's still in bed, but...

"Yep," Slade says. "We got back around four, and Damian's sleeping it off."

"And you're not."

"Jason, you know how little sleep I can function on," Slade says. "This is nothing."

Jason huffs and settles in to eat his breakfast.

Chapter 17

As far as Jason is concerned, Alfred Pennyworth is the patron saint of mercy. When food's done, he packs Jason off to bed to sleep off as much of his hangover as he can manage, and only drags him out of his perfectly restful sleep when it's time to go. Dick's already left, and Alfred tells him that he needs to get dressed before going to speak to Damian, the only person staying behind.

"What am I wearing?" Jason calls. "Am I attending this as Bruce's son or as Raptor or am I busting out the Batman suit?"

Part of him hopes it's going to be the Batman suit, just to throw people off.

"Wear a suit-suit," Bruce calls, popping his head into the hallway. "Something nice. You're there with me, not with the Gotham Knight."

Jason huffs and grabs a suit, and then goes to make sure Thomas and Joey are doing the same. Thomas doesn't have anything that fits perfectly, but Joey does, and he looks almost disgustingly professional when he emerges from his room.

Work clothes, he signs. I had to leave behind a whole closet of suits when I came.

"Don't tell Bruce," Jason says. "He loves going shopping for new suits."

They've got too many people for one car, so they end up splitting up, with Bruce, Slade, and Thomas in one, and Barry, Roy, Jason, and Joey in the other. Roy and Barry's luggage has to share the trunk of their car, and Jason makes a point of packing extra drinks as well.

I can drive, Joey signs, and Bruce shuts it down immediately.

"You don't have a license," Bruce points out. "Barry can drive." He pauses then, turning his attention to Barry and looking him over with clear scrutiny.

"You do have your license, don't you Barry?"

"Of course!" Barry protests. "I can't just run around town without people noticing." He even produces his drivers license, just to demonstrate, and Bruce hmphs and hands him the keys to a blacked out sports car.

Joey grabs the passenger seat, and Jason and Roy climb into the back while Roy attempts to eat his way through the worst of his hangover.

"Why did I let myself do this," Roy complains. "Barry, next time I want to drink before a League meeting, stop me."

"Roger," Barry says.

They take the ferry over, which is a long and slow process that seems to drive Barry absolutely bonkers.

"Remind me to beg the league to let me just build a bridge," he says.

Jason snorts and doesn't bother listing out the multitude of reasons that would be a terrible idea. Instead, he spends his time making sure Roy doesn't make too much of a mess of Bruce's car.

"You're really not mad?" Roy asks as they head into Metropolis, and both Joey and Barry seem to abruptly pretend they've gone deaf.

"I'm not going to be mad that two of my friends are hooking up," Jason says. Really, he thinks they're both being a little bit too... overly cautious. Like they think he's going to freak out. He decides he might as well ask, squinting at Roy warily.

"Why exactly do you think I'm going to freak out over this?" Jason asks, squinting at Roy.

Roy does not want to answer. The way he averts his eyes, the way his body twists... He obviously does not want to answer, which only makes Jason want to know that much more.

"I mean," Roy says, and it's that much more painfully obvious that he's picking the words with all the care of someone disarming a bomb, "you haven't really had the whole... dating... thing happening. I was kind of worried you'd feel..."

"Like one of you owed me it?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow.

The idea is ridiculous, and he rolls his eyes, sinking back into his seat before waving Roy off.

"Please," he says, "we've been friends how long and you still think that'd be a thing?"

He already knows Roy and Barry have more experience at the whole dating thing than he does. There's like a million reasons why he knows he wouldn't work with either of them. Barry and Roy are both—for very, very different reasons—catches. Neither of them deserve to be saddled with him. He's lucky enough just having them as friends.

"Plus, this means I'm guaranteed the best man spot," Jason says, hoping to lighten the mood. It has the desired effect almost immediately, with Roy throwing his hands into the air.

"It's not even been a month and you're planning a wedding? You're killing me here."

"Just making sure to stake my claim," Jason says. "You know I'd run the best bachelor party."

"You mean Bruce and Slade would run the best bachelor party," Barry says. "Did they even have one?"

"They did not," Jason says. "Don't ask me why."

"I was about to," Roy says. "Because that would have been a hell of a party."

The awkwardness seems to be mostly gone by the time they pull into the League's parking lot, with Barry using his pass to get them into the covered parking lot. The other car's already there, and Thomas looks to be in an absolutely foul mood.

Oh boy. Jason isn't looking forward to this.

"Everyone into the elevator," Bruce says, herding them all in. "And remember, codenames now that we're here."

"Except us," Jason says, gesturing to Joey and Thomas. "We're on first names?"

"You're on first names," Bruce confirms. "...As am I, for that matter. You know who I was talking about."

It's not the first time Jason's been in League headquarters. Not even close. But it never stops being intimidating when the elevator stops in front of a high tech looking entranceway and Bruce has to retinal scan his way into the building. A lot of the security is similar to what they've got in the batcave, but seeing it in daylight, sitting smack dab in the middle of Metropolis feels... weird.

Bats always did operate better at night.

"Bruce Wayne," Bruce says for the voiceprint. "Three guests."

The system prompts him to identify the guests, and he does. Jason rolls his eyes when he's handed a temporary Jason Wilson-Wayne badge to pin on his chest.

The whole thing feels excessive considering that every single person inside knows exactly who he is already.

Diana's waiting for them when the door opens, and Jason watches Thomas go stiff at the sight of her. She either doesn't notice or isn't willing to comment, smiling widely as she greets Bruce.

"Jason!" She says next, giving him an overly enthusiastic handshake. "Does this mean I've finally convinced you?"

"No luck," Roy says with an overly dramatic shake of his head. "He's a stubborn one."

"Who are we waiting on?" Asks Barry, leaning to the side to check the room behind Diana and see who he can spot.

"Hal's coming in," she says. "He just landed on the roof, but we're a few minutes early."

Jason bites back an I'm just babysitting joke as Slade steers Thomas away from Diana, but things are already going poorly when Jason spots Arthur heading for Slade.

"Flash," Jason says under his breath. "Intercept."

Barry's head snaps up, eyes darting around, and then he zips off to intercept Arthur before he can get into the blast zone. Roy rolls his eyes and jogs after him.

Diana glances over her shoulder before turning back to those still by the door.

"...Should I be worried?" She asks. "And was that name badge correct?"

"It's a long story," Bruce says. "Most of which you can guess."

"I assume we'll be hearing all of it?"

"That's the idea," Bruce says. "But introductions. Diana, this is Joey."

Joey offers a hand, and the two shake. Joey's already digging into his pocket for his phone when Jason opts to simply ask.

"You wouldn't happen to know ASL, would you?"

"I am familiar with around two dozen languages, including ASL," Diana says. "Themyscira thought it important that I be able to communicate with people from all over the world."

That makes things easier, Joey signs, leaving his phone in his pocket. Nice to meet you.

"Nice to meet you as well," Diana says, her eyes flicking between Bruce and Jason. "Should we start the meeting when Hal arrives?"

"I was going to wait in the hall," Jason says. "Keep an eye on Thomas and Joey while you guys finish up."

"Nonsense," Diana says with a wave of her hand. "You can sit at the table with us. I'm not sending you out to wait by yourself. There are no secrets with you."

Jason reluctantly allows himself to be settled in at the table as Hal and Steve Trevor arrive from the roof, and he can't stop himself from noticing that Bruce and Slade have planted themselves on either side of Thomas, as if worried he's going to launch himself across the table.

He certainly looks like he's considering the option.

"Welcome back," J'onn says with a nod towards both Bruce and Slade, but also Hal. "It is good that everyone was able to make it to today's meeting."

"We also have some guests," Diana says. "Some of which you all know-" There's a pointed look towards Jason. "-And some of which you do not. Introductions around the table, please."

They go in a circle saying their names as if Joey or Thomas might not already know, and Jason nearly introduces himself as Raptor before he catches himself and just says his actual name.

"So, starting with the obvious... How was another dimension, Bruce?"

"They have a nicer headquarters, for one," Bruce says. "And based on their data, they previously operated out of a satellite in space."

Roy whistles at the idea.

"Not an option for us," Bruce says, dashing everyone's hopes. "As we have no access to the teleportation technology they used for it."

"I think I'd be the only one able to actually make use of it," Clark says with a small laugh.

"Unfortunate," Diana says. "What did you learn while you were there?"

"That we are not alone, for one," Bruce says. "Their world deviates significantly from ours, but the most interesting thing is the fact that there are multiple worlds is a proven fact to them. They've encountered dozens over the years, ranging from helpful to outright hostile. I have a paper from their Justice League with information on that fact that I'll share with the group."

"I understand you went back, even once you were home?" Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Superman can attest to that," Bruce says. "The issues there were not world ending, but did have major implications to my family, so we opted to return. That said, things are finished now. I don't foresee any future connections with that world or any other. If they do make contact, it would be unexpected."

"But you have guests?" Diana asks, raising an eyebrow.

"They're not visitors," Bruce says. "More like permanent transplants. Thomas—who is an alternate version of my father—is from a different world than the one we visited entirely. His world was... actively hostile."

"Is that why he's glaring at me?" Arthur asks. Bruce looks pained.

"The Themyscirans and the Atlanteans had some kind of a war in his world," Jason says. "They sunk Western Europe and killed millions of people. To him, the only version of you he's ever known was a murderous dictator."

"Unpleasant," Arthur says. "I suppose explaining I'd never do such a thing here isn't going to help?"

Thomas bares his teeth in Arthur's direction.

"No," he says simply.

"It's a side point anyway," Bruce says. "Thomas isn't joining the League, and while he once operated as his world's Batman, he isn't planning to do any work which would require him to deal with the League. He'll be living with me while he gets settled in."

"And the other?" J'onn asks,

Joey knows better than to attempt sign with such a varied group, and simply sets his phone down on the table, getting several confused looks.

"Ah," J'onn says. "He cannot speak."

"I can speak," Joey says through the phone. "Just not naturally."

"I would guess that not everyone...?" Diana asks, and there are several shrugs of nope, don't know it.

"Talking like this is fine," Joey says. "I thought I should do my own introduction myself. My name is Joey Wilson. Back home I did operate briefly as part of the Teen Titans, which was the... younger side of the Justice League, more or less."

Jason knows enough to know that the more or less probably has a lot of caveats attached to it.

"A younger chapter of the League?" Diana asks.

"Mostly kid sidekicks," Joey says. "Or people who wanted to do the hero thing but were considered too young. My world had a significantly larger number of heroes. Last I checked, the Justice League had more than two dozen people, and that's not even counting those who had withdrawn."

"The other Superman mentioned this," Clark says. "Apparently it's far more common for heroes to have younger assistants with them in their world."

Outside of his own family, the Arrows and Clark himself are the only ones to have done anything like that. If Diana, Arthur, J'onn, or anyone else has a sidekick, he hasn't heard of it.

"Unusual," Arthur says. "It might be something to look into. I have several young people within Atlantis's borders who would be interested in experiencing life on the surface world."

"Are you planning to take a mantle of your own?" Diana asks, raising an eyebrow to Joey, who immediately shakes his head.

"I'm retired," he says. "I'd rather have a normal life, and Mr. Wayne has been kind enough to offer me one."

"He's also going to be staying with us," Bruce says. "At the very least until he can get settled in."

"It's good we got to meet them," Clark says. "Formally, I mean."

"I also have videos for you," Bruce says. "Before I left, many members of the League who were aware of the situation recorded messages. I thought I'd leave them with you after the meeting is done."

It occurs to Jason that while he's seen his video, he's the only one. No one else has watched what was recorded for them. Maybe when they get back.

The rest of the meeting feels almost excruciatingly slow by comparison. There's a lot of technical talk and discussion of how they might handle any visitors from other dimensions. They set up standard policies, and then hammer out code phrases to confirm they're in the correct world. Jason keeps quiet, mostly keeping an eye on Joey (who seems perfectly happy), and Thomas (who's obviously simmering with annoyance and anger).

Bruce finishes up by hanging out the video on thumb drives.

"I'd recommend destroying them when you're done," he says. "I suspect they contain personal details you won't want in the public eye."

Diana leaves Bruce in charge of the other dimensions exist press release, and then the meeting is adjourned.

"I can't hang out too long," Roy says. "Flight's already booked, and Greeny wants me home. You guys going to see your own videos...?"

Bruce hasn't said that the videos exist, but Roy's safely assuming they do.

"Already did," Jason says. "Watched mine just after my meltdown. I'm supposed to give you a hug or something like that."

Joey looks uncomfortable right up until the point where Roy waves around his own thumb drive.

"Probably shouldn't watch this on the plane, should I?" He says.

"You got one?" Joey asks, looking confused.

"Yeah?" Roy says. "Why wouldn't I?"

Joey looks extremely uncomfortable, and Jason takes a breath before handling it himself.

"Their world doesn't have a Roy right now," he says. "Their Jason thinks he's going to be back before long, but right now... you're dead."

"I'm dead?" Roy asks, looking down at the thumb drive. "So what the hell is this, a message from beyond? How did I die?"

"Accident," Joey says, which is good because Jason has no idea. "I would guess that the other Jason made a message for you. Maybe someone else."

"Well," Roy says, "now I'm really not going to watch this on the plane."

Jason pauses, and then pulls Roy into a hug.

"From him," Jason says. "The other Jason."

Roy doesn't look very happy, even when Barry zips over, Hal coming in just behind him.

"Good to see things worked the way I thought," he says with a pointed look at Joey.

"You were a little bit off," Jason says. "Even portal mode apparently swaps people."

Hal frowns at that, his eyebrows pressing together.

"Then how did- oh!" He says, abruptly realizing and going pale. "They swapped? With their... with their bodies here?"

Joey shudders, and Jason decides another subject might be better.

"Are you staying long?"

Hal waves his hand.

"I've got a civil war to stop nearby," he says. "I had to fly back just for this, but I'll be shipping out like... the moment this meeting is over."

"When exactly are you going to have time to visit?" Barry asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Sometime between tomorrow and never," Hal says with a sigh. "They're talking about adding a second lantern to each sector, because I'm not the only one who can't keep up."

"Tell them to deputize ten people for this one," Barry says. "So you can come to my birthday party this year."

"I missed one year-" Hal starts to protest, only to get cut off by Barry.

"I know, and I'm just ribbing you, but you definitely need a break."

There's no question that Hal needs a break. He looks exhausted, even though all they did for the past two hours was talk. He ends up hmmphing in their direction, and then the ring pulses green.

"Duty calls," he says. "I'll see you guys next meeting, if not sooner."

Hal heads off with a quick round of goodbyes. Thomas is already standing by the elevators with Slade, waiting to leave, and Bruce seems to be finishing up.

"Time to roll," he says.

The meeting wasn't too bad, but he still doesn't plan on joining the League anytime soon.

Chapter 18

Roy and Barry both change into civilian clothes before they even get into the car, and Jason takes the driver's seat. He's still got the tail end of a headache, but hours on and no less than three bottles of water later he's feeling a whole lot better.

He drops Roy off at the airport, and politely looks the other way when Roy decides to that that opportunity to make out with Barry. Barry grabs his own stuff, admitting he plans to see Roy off in the airport before heading home himself.

"Don't be a stranger," Jason says. "Roy has a super long flight, but you don't have any such excuse."

"I'll try and visit more," Barry says. "But you know, I've still gotta do the whole hero thing."

Jason snorts. He feels distinctly out of touch with the whole hero thing as of late, even though it's only been a bit more than a week since his last patrol.

"Excuses," Jason says with a shake of his head, watching Roy offer a fistbump to Joey through the window. Jason hugs both of them, then sends them both off, climbing back into the driver's seat.

"Okay," he says. "Back home?"

Joey gives him a thumbs up that's hard to interpret any other way, and Jason starts the drive back to Gotham. Joey ends up clipping his phone to the dash, allowing for smalltalk without risking Jason driving into a wall.

"So," Jason says as they drive. "Did you know Barry and Roy back home?" He knows Joey knew Dick, but everyone else seems to be a mix of met-them-once and know-only-by-reputation.

"A bit," Joey says. "But they were pretty different. Barry was a lot older, and mostly ran with the older heroes."

"Guess it's weird they're hooking up here?"

"More than a bit," Joey admits, and when Jason spares a glance he sees him smiling. "They aren't the only ones. A lot of people aren't who they should be in my head."

"Dick?" Jason guesses. Slade is the obvious choice, but Dick... Joey did say he was on the same team as him.

"We were friends back at home," Joey says. "Although I moved to the other side of the country and we weren't in touch as much as I'd like."

"What was with that, anyway?" Jason asks. "Moving away, I mean."

"Ma's idea," he says. "Her company was opening an office down in LA, and she wanted me to help start it."

"Let me guess," Jason says. "Getting you away from your dad?"

"That was probably the idea," Joey admits. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

They're interrupted by Jason's phone ringing, and Joey goes silent as Jason puts it through the car's speakers.

"Jason?" Michael says.

"I'm here," Jason says. "Someone's in the car with me though."

"Just work stuff," Michael says. "We have to fire Spinelli."

"What?" Jason says. "Why?"

"Skimming off the top," Michael says. "Accountant spotted it this morning. We're already getting the police involved, but I need your signature to lock him out of everything. Any chance you could come by?"

Jason gives Joey a quick glance, and Joey shoots him a quick thumbs up.

"Sure," Jason says. "I can stop by in an hour or so. Just on my way back from Metropolis."

They're already approaching the ferry, and Jason eases the car onto it.

"Driving Bruce's car, for the record," he says.

"Everyone's going to think Bruce is coming for a visit and panic," Michael says.

"Let them," Jason says. "If anyone tries to sneak out the back door, then you know they were in on it."

He wraps up the conversation up with another promise, parks the car on the ferry, and tilts his seat back to stare at the ceiling.

"Sorry about this," he says. "Meant to get you back to the manor before I did anything else."

"It's fine," Joey says, waving off his concern, and Jason shifts in his seat to look at Joey, who catches the hint and opts to start signing.

Who's Spinelli? Joey signs.

"One of our managers," Jason says. "Been with us for years, so this is going to be a pain. I'll try not to take too long."

Joey waves him off immediately.

It's not an issue, Joey signs. I don't have anything else I'd be doing anyway.

Jason tries not to think about that too much while he phones Slade, letting him know what happened and that they'll be home late. They end up chatting about the differences between Metropolis and Gotham in each world, and Jason gets to hear a bit more about the Teen Titans and general state of affairs. A lot of it is stuff he's already heard from the other Clark, but it's interesting hearing the secondary perspective. 

When the ferry docks, Jason straightens his seat and lets Joey reset his phone on the dash.

"This shouldn't take long," he says. "Going to take a shortcut. Maybe... twenty minutes to downtown?"

His shortcut takes them down what looks like a country road, but as they get closer to the city he can see Joey leaning against the window, peering out of it.

"Where is this?" Joey says. "Why is this so... weird?"

"Edge of Gotham," Jason says. It occurs to him that Joey hasn't really been in Gotham before, so he gives a bit more detail. "Gotham expands across the waterfront, and then up to the three islands. General route would take you from the ferry, through downtown, and then up across the bridge onto the islands. Almost no one goes through old North Gotham anymore."

"Why?" Joey asks, still looking around.

"Did you guys not have Arkham City?" Jason asks, sparing a glance to Joey. This entire part of the city is almost entirely empty, occupied only by the occasional homeless camp, and plenty of it is fenced off.

"No," Joey says. "What's Arkham City?"

Jason's not even entirely sure where to start.

"Long story," he says. "Basically Hugo Strange and Ra's al Ghul decided to create a super prison, and they ended up taking over Old Gotham to do it. So the whole of Old Gotham was walled off. Obviously it backfired because Bruce intervened, but the whole area's a walking biohazard. It's not going to do you any damage driving through it, but Gothamites are a paranoid bunch, and no one wa-"

Jason stops talking, easing the break as he coasts to a stop.

There's a giant ass vine lying across the road. It's the size of a tree trunk, only still green, and Jason squints at it warily.

No movement.

"Should I be worried?" Asks Joey.

"Probably not," Jason says, pulling his car to the side and parking it at the curb. The buildings around them are starting to collapse, but it's not like they're going to fall on his car or anything. "Big vine like that means Ivy. Not many people come through here, so if I was going to guess she was trying to get our attention when someone patrols through here."

He pulls out his phone, contacting the cave directly, and ends up getting redirected to Bruce anyway.

"Report," Bruce says in his I'm Batman growl.

"Just on my way to Gotham," Jason says, checking around them. "Giant vine across the road in Old Gotham. When did we last patrol through here?"

There's a brief pause.

"Almost a week," Bruce says. "Old Gotham is low priority."

Considering the official population of zero, Jason knows why.

"I'm going to go investigate," he says. 

"Wait for-" Bruce starts.

"It's Ivy," Jason says. "I'm going to check it out."

He hangs up on Bruce before he can protest, and gets a really confused look from Joey in response.

"Ivy did some bad things," Jason says, which is a hell of an understatement, "but she hasn't hurt anyone in years. Mostly she just keeps to herself. The entire side of Old Gotham is a park now, and she maintains it, so it's a... no one pokes around here and she doesn't poke around the city sort of thing."

Joey does not look convinced. No, not at all.

"You can stay in the car," Jason says as he gets out, and it's only when he glances up that he realizes that Joey's climbing out.

I can handle myself, Joey signs. And if you're going, I'm going.

Jason huffs, locks the car doors, and heads back to the trunk. There's a for-emergencies kit hidden in the trunk of all Bruce's cars, and inside he finds a set of masks. He hands one to Joey, putting one on himself before pocketing some supplies and heading towards the park.

They head two blocks east before they start running into heavy plant life. This part of the city is still a city, it's just a city that's been overtaken by the forest far sooner than it should.

Why is this allowed? Joey signs.

"Almost all of Old Gotham was damaged when it became Arkham City," Jason says. "There were attempts to reclaim it, but there's fear toxin and joker venom and all kinds of weird shit floating around in the area. Leaked into the soil, hidden in caches... Gotham needed to spend its money elsewhere."

I get it, Joey signs. But Ivy?

"She wanted it," Jason says. "Bruce suspected that she'd be able to purge the toxins from the soil and make the area livable far faster than just letting it sit. It was easier to let her have it and work with her than have to fight her for a part of Gotham people can't even live in."

Joey offers a shrug.

The farther in they get, the larger and more prominent the plants. A few blocks in, Jason can't even see the sun beneath the thick canopy, and Joey pulls in closer, obviously wary.

Probably a good reaction to have.

"And for the record," Jason adds, "I've run into her a few times. She's not too bad."

Joey taps his arm and he glances over.

You just hang out with wanted felons? Joey signs.

"Joey," Jason says. "Consider Slade for a second."

Joey makes a perfectly silent little oh and gets the picture.

When the foliage gets thick enough that advancing becomes difficult, Jason knows better than to try and cut his way through. Instead, he favors the direct route.

"Ivy!" He yells. "If you're hoping for visitors, this is a damn good way of making me go back to my car."

There's a faint noise and the plants in front of them start to withdraw, pulling back to make room for them. Joey sticks that much more closer to him as Jason heads up the steps into Ivy's sanctuary. He's pretty sure it was once a church, because there's a high, vaulted ceiling with massive windows, but almost every part of the original building except the walls has been peeled away.

The one thing about Ivy that unnerves him is that she still looks the exact same way she did when they first met. She's still the same attractive 20 something who looks fresh out of college. The only difference is she's cut her hair a little bit shorter, but otherwise? There's no difference.

Jason's pretty sure that in a hundred years when they're all dead and gone, Ivy will still be there, slowly expanding her influence until Gotham's completely gone.

"If it isn't a bat," Ivy says, lounging casually on what looks a lot like a couch. "And... Oh, he's a new one." Jason's pretty sure it's the blond hair that gives it away, because Joey's hair doesn't fit any of their current people.

"You didn't stick a giant vine across the road to pretend like you didn't want us here," Jay says pointedly. He's really not interested in dragging things out.

"You are correct," Ivy says. "...Ah, that would be the little Raptor, isn't it?"

Maybe he's hanging out with her too much, because she's recognizing his voice without issue.

"It is," he says, not bothering to hide it. "You had something to say?"

"A few weeks ago," Ivy says, "someone came to me with a proposition."

Jason feels his back go stiff, old anxieties flaring up. This isn't going to be good, whatever it is.

"And?" He prompts.

"Apparently," she says, "someone's unhappy with the current state of affairs. They were obviously vague about their intentions, but they wanted me to come along with them to face off against the Bats."

"And you said no," Jason says. There's no question. If this is a trap, it's an astoundingly bad one. He's got a bunch of emergency flares shoved in his pockets, and any one of them would be enough to drive Ivy off temporarily. Nevermind that he's already told Bruce where he is, and if he doesn't check in soon he's going to drop everything he has on them.

"I told them I wasn't interested," she says. "The public might still think that Slade was Batman, but I know better." She folds her arms across her chest, looking smug. "Daddy Bats has been kind to me, and whoever replaces him might not be so nice. So I told them no."

"And let me guess," Jason says. "You made some kind of deal to not interfere if they don't burn your forest down, and this isn't interfering because it's just letting a little bird know?"

Ivy gives him a wink which means he's right on the money.

"Thanks Ivy," he says. "I'm sure daddy bats will appreciate it."

She gives him an overly smug smile, turning her attention to Joey, and Jason watches him freeze up.

"Not going to introduce me to your friend?" She says, leaning a bit closer to Joey.

"Nope," Jason says, popping his p. "This isn't a social call, I'm going to need to get this information back to everyone else. I suppose you're not going to tell me who the someone is?"

"They were a third party," she says. "Acting on behalf of someone else. So I'm afraid I can be no help there."

Of course not.

"Then we'll be going," he says. "Don't be a stranger."

He plants a hand on Joey's back, steering him back the way they came without so much as a glance backwards. He isn't afraid of Ivy, and it's important to show that. Thankfully, Joey gets the picture fairly quickly, keeping his head straight.

Are we safe? Joey signs as discreetly as he can manage, and Jason nods. Even so, Jason doesn't talk until they make it back to the car and climb inside, masks still on.

"Well," Jason says. "That was a fun detour, but let's get going."

The vine's already gone, retreated back to Ivy, and Jason starts the car, heading out of Old Gotham as fast as he safely can.

Chapter 19

He calls back to the cave once they're in Gotham proper, letting Bruce and Slade know what they've found. Slade's a bit more animated, but Bruce only gives a grunt at the information which means he's gone full Batman.

"That means he's worried," Jason translates for Joey. "And doesn't want to talk about it."

"Stop revealing your father's secrets," Slade says. "He's extra scowly now."

"I've got to deal with work," Jason says. "So I'll see you back at the manor soon."

He hangs up and pulls into Wayne Outreach. The car he's driving isn't even fancy compared to some that Bruce has, but it's the fanciest thing in the lot by a mile, and Jason's half expecting vandalism when he parks it just beside the entrance in his designated spot.

Maybe his reputation with the community will keep them from taking the tires off, but he doubts it. Michael seems to have thought ahead though, because he's waiting with an intern near the entrance.

"Brought you someone to keep an eye on your car," Michael says, giving him a nod as the two of them climb out.

"Seems a waste of an employee," Jason says, "but thanks." He gestures to Joey at his side, who gives a polite nod.

"This is Joey," Jason says with a quick gesture. "You been brushing up on your sign?"

Not good, Michael signs in response, and Joey laughs a bit at that.

Good enough, he signs right back.

"Joey's mute," Jason clarifies as he heads inside, with Michael taking the lead as they head up to his office. "And his full name is Joseph Wilson."

"Wilson like...?" Michael asks as they reach the office. There's a literal stack of papers on Jason's desk, and he groans a bit at the sight of it.

"Well, nice to meet you," Michael says, and Jason realizes he's missed whatever it was Joey said in response. He waits until he's settled in behind his desk and the door is closed before elaborating.

"Alternate dimension stuff," Jason says. "Joey, this is Michael. He operates as Azrael." He makes sure to glance up, making sure to catch Joey's response.

We had an Azrael, Joey signs. But I'm pretty sure it was a different person.

"Not surprising," Michael says as Jason starts to work his way through the stack. Most of it is easy enough, but Bruce drilled into him when he first started the job to never sign anything without reading it, so he lets himself focus entirely on his work, leaving Joey and Michael to have their own conversation.

He reaches the bottom of the pile in short order, signing off on the last one.

"This one," Jason says, pulling a paper he set aside, "I've already signed. Did they not get a copy?"

"They said no," Michael says. "But I'll double check."

"And I didn't see the Spinelli stuff in here?"

"HR wants a lawyer in the room to confirm you signed it yourself," Michael says. "I can get them if you want."

"Not a bad idea," Jason says. "Covering our asses."

Michael ducks out of the room, and Jason sags back into his chair. He opens his mouth to say something, and then the realization makes him laugh.

"I was about to apologize for this being boring business stuff, but I guess this is what you used to do too, isn't it?"

It was, Joey signs. I didn't rank as highly as you, though.

"Executive Vice President is pretty high," Jason says, and Joey goes pink, seemingly embarrassed he remembered.

"You know," Jason says, the idea settling in, "we are going to be down a manager, and you do have business experience. People talk about how nepotism is bad, but my entire life has been nepotism, so as long as you're actually doing the work..."

He's expecting enthusiasm. Excitement. Instead he gets reluctance. Joey looks suddenly very closed off, and he has to take a moment to try and adjust his expectations.

It's harder for me, Joey signs. Not everyone knows sign, so I need an interpreter to manage normally. Using the subvocal mic isn't perfect.

"Not an issue," Jason says. "We're happy to accomodate."

But Joey doesn't immediately cheer up. He still looks sour and unhappy, and it occurs to Jason that he's making excuses. He doesn't want the job. This is... something else.

"...But you don't want it," Jason says, and Joey averts his eyes.

I don't really like business, Joey signs. I'm good at it, but I don't enjoy it. It's... draining.

Jason feels like kicking himself for not making the connection. His mom's company. His mom encouraging him to move to LA for the new branch.

"That's fine," Jason says. "I shouldn't have pushed. I figured I'd give you an option." He can't deny that he feels a little bit crestfallen at the fact that his plan was rejected, but it's not as if it's the end of the world. They can find someone else. And Joey...

"What did you do before?"

What? Joey signs, momentarily confused.

"Before your mom pushed you into the whole business thing. I figure you probably had something going on, and your mom pushed you to give it up..."

Joey winces.

It's nothing important, he signs, which Jason knows means he was right on the money.

"I have to admit I'm curious," Jason says, but Joey's rescued by Michael's return before he can ask further.

Joey ends up having to wait outside while he signs the paperwork, and by the time he's done the conversation is effectively over. It feels weird to dredge it up, so he settles for letting Joey and Michael say a polite goodbye before heading out.

He debates the merits of picking up fast food for dinner before deciding he doesn't want to risk Alfred's wrath, and opts to head home instead.

Damian's sulking when they return, but it's Bruce and Slade who are the real dangers.

"I want a full report," Bruce says, and there's no question he's deep in Batman mode.

"You got one," Jason says. "I told you everything I heard already."

"You should have woken me up," Damian protests from the side. "I would have gone with you."

"Maybe next time, kiddo," Slade says, ruffling Damian's hair under protest. "Not sure they'd have let you in at your age."

"I will join the league when I am eighteen," Damian says. "I expect my seat to be ready for me."

"I'll make sure it's ready," Slade says.

"You had better," Damian says.

"If you were all finished," Alfred says, "dinner has been ready for ten minutes already, and is in serious danger of going cold."

"Sorry Alfred," is the chorus of the moment as everyone heads to the kitchen, ready to eat.

Jason's just happy he didn't grab a burger like he had planned.

Chapter 20

Dinner is business as usual, which feels off because Jason keeps expecting something (or someone) to blow up. Thomas is in a foul mood, but he doesn't actually say anything through the whole of dinner.

"Everyone should watch their tapes," Bruce says when they're done. "I've already given the League theirs, but there are ones for almost everyone."

Jason's already seen his, but Alfred gets his—along with a book of recipes that turns out to be filled with family photos—as does Damian. Jason takes the time to send the therapist referrals to Bruce and Slade, making sure they know which is which.

Bruce makes the attempt almost immediately after getting them.

"Thomas," he says. "Joey." Both turn to him, although their reactions are very different. Joey's more genuinely curious, while Thomas just looks wary. "I think it would be helpful to both of you if you spent some time with a therapist-"

"No," Thomas says before Bruce can even finish. It seems to catch Bruce off guard for a moment, but after he simply carries on as if Thomas never interrupted.

"Everyone in this house has had some kind of therapy in the past. Some of us are still going to therapy. After everything you've both been through, having a scure third party to speak to about things seems helpful."

"I'm not interested in having my head picked apart by some shrink," Thomas says. "I'm not sick, Bruce."

"We're not saying you're sick," Bruce says. "You don't have to be sick to be affected by the things that you've seen, and you've seen a lot. But it's obvious you're still hostile towards Arthur and Diana-"

"That's because I know what they're capable of," Thomas says. "Just because they're playing nice now doesn't mean they're human. It doesn't mean they're above wiping us out if we get in their way."

"Neither of them would do that," Bruce says.

"You don't think either of them would do that," Thomas says. "But I'm fully aware they could."

"I would think Bruce would know better than anyone about the fact that different people are capable of different things across dimensions," Jason says, trying not to scowl too openly. Thomas goes silent in response, and then looks away.

I'm open to it, Joey signs. But can they really be trusted?

"We have fewer secrets to keep here," Bruce says. "But yes. The one you'd go to was personally recommended by someone who's kept our secrets, and it's someone they trust. They're also fluent in sign, which should make things easier."

Apparently it hasn't escaped Bruce's notice that Joey always seems a bit more relaxed when he's able to sign. The subvocal mic might be more handy, but he always seems uncomfortable using it.

"I'm not interested," Thomas says. "Slade doesn't attend, and I don't see why I should."

Jason's pretty sure he's guessing Slade doesn't attend, but he's not wrong.

"I did," Slade says. "I gave it an honest shot, and so should you."

"You think I didn't try it years ago? No, there's no point in going. There's nothing wrong with me."

Jason does in fact sort of think he didn't actually try, but he doesn't see the point in trying to argue that. Slade's phone rings, and he excuses himself to the hallway to take it, leaving Bruce to handle Thomas.

"You should be leading by example," Bruce says. "There's nothing wrong-"

"Father!" Damian yells from the hallway, sprinting into the room. "I want a cow!"

Jason has no goddamn idea how Damian got to that point, but Bruce obviously does because he lets out a groan.

"No," he says. "We don't have a barn, and I'm not letting a wild animal that needs fresh air live in the cave."

"They could provide us with milk," Damian says.

"No," Bruce says. "We are not getting a cow."

"Other Damian's father lets him have a cow!"

"Other Damian's father is an asshole," Jason points out. "He's not exactly a good metric for responsible fatherhood."

Damian huffs at that, agitated.

"I still want a cow," he says.

"If you want to deal with animals, why not -"

Jason doesn't bother to listen, heading out of the room. He's sure Bruce thinks it's because of the therapy conversation, but truth be told he's not actually that bothered. Of course Thomas would be the kind of person who thinks only crazy people go. No, more than anything he's bothered by the fact that Thomas isn't even willing to try. He's twice as stubborn as Bruce was.

Slade's in the hallway, and he raises an eyebrow when he spots Jason, mouthing grab Joey for me.

Jason pops his head around the corner, waving to Joey, who looks happy for an excuse to get to his feet, following Jason out.

"Wintergreen," Slade says, holding the phone out for Joey. Joey doesn't take it right away, instead fiddling with his mic to sync it, but eventually he does take it.

It's weird, because Joey doesn't appear to be speaking at all, but Wintergreen obviously can hear him, and that leaves him and Slade listening to a completely one sided conversation.

"Joey? Is that your own voice?" There's a pause, and Joey seems to be smiling, his jaw moving slightly as he speaks without speaking. "It's good to hear from you. And to hear that you've decided to join us. I'm sure your father must be quite excited." Joey's eyes flick up to Slade, bue he doesn't seem to comment. "Yes, I was just calling to report what I'd learned. Hopefully I'll get to see you before too long. I have... missed you quite a bit." Another pause. "Of course."

Joey holds out the phone for Slade to take, who does just that before turning away.

I guess you were close to him? Jason signs, not wanting to interrupt Slade's conversation.

Joey nods, signing right back. He was like my uncle. He would always stop by. I even invited him to my wedding.

The wedding catches Jason off guard. He knew there was a fiance—and that Joey's version of Slade was sleeping with him before she died—but a wedding?  

Wedding? He signs back, and Joey winces.

Etienne, he signs. She was my fiance. She was also sleeping with pop, and working for Amanda Waller. But I was in love with her, or thought I was. So I pushed for a wedding because I felt like my life was out of control.

Jason nods before Joey can force himself to say more. He knows what's happened after that.

She's in the past, Joey signs. Same with everything else. I came here to get away from it, but I keep repeating the same mistakes.

"You did well with your m- with Adeline," Jason says. "You stood up to her."

Joey's cheeks go pink. I had help, Joey signs. It was easier this time. Because it wasn't ma, just... someone like her. I should call her.

"Don't rush yourself if you're not ready," Jason says. "I know it probably feels like everything's happening real fast, but you have all the time in the world now.

Slade turns back to them, hanging up the phone.

"Bruce still arguing with-" He stops for a moment, listening, and then grunts. "Yes, he is," Slade says. "Want to go out back?"

Jason makes a point of rescuing Damian from the argument—right around the time Bruce is yelling something about Thomas breaking some sort of deal—and hauling him out back. They get there a bit after Joey and Slade, who seems significantly more interested in playing fetch with Titus than he is in arguing with Thomas.

"I don't like them," Damian says quietly as he and Jason settle in on the back porch.

"Thomas?" Jason asks. "I think he's alright. He just... needs some time to adjust." He reminds Jason a lot of Bruce before he got his shit sorted out, and he's pretty sure therapy will go a long way towards that.

"Either of them," Damian says. He's staring out towards where Joey and Slade are playing with Titus, and Jason abruptly realizes that Damian has barely spent any time around Joey.

That's probably his fault. He's spent a lot of time with Joey, and so has Slade, and Joey has... well, barely seem Damian. He can't really blame Damian for not being a big fan of someone who seems to be in the process of stealing away parts of his family.

"He's a good guy," Jason says. "And I know the adjustment is hard, but I think you'll like him."

"He's not a bat," Damian says. "But he's stepfather's real son."

Damian looks so hurt that Jason scoots over, squeezing in on the chair beside Damian and hauling him up into his lap. Damian's still small, the youngest of the family by a mile, and now he's struggling through the same sort of feelings Jason once had.

"I felt the same way about you, you know," Jason says. Damian looks at him like he just grew another head.

"Why?" Damian says. "I was no threat to you."

"You were Bruce's real son," Jason says. "I thought you had more right to him than anyone. But Slade and Bruce both did a good job of making sure I knew that wasn't true. That it doesn't matter how someone joined your family. It's the same with Joey. Just because he's Slade's son doesn't mean Slade's going to stop loving you."

Damian stares out at the two of them. He still looks like he's sulking, but he no longer looks as miserable as he did when they first reached the porch.  

"Why don't you talk to him?" Jason asks. "See if there's anything you two have in common. Maybe he really likes animals."

"I have no intention of sharing Titus and Portia with anyone," Damian says.

"You share them with me," Jason points out. "Maybe he's really into farm animals, and he could convince Bruce to get you that cow you wanted."

That seems to interest Damian.

"Maybe," he says.

"Just think about it from his side," Jason says. "He doesn't know anyone here. He's alone, and now he has to find out where he fits in things."

He's sure it's something Damian can understand, because he was the same way before. He watches for a few minutes, not responding, and then finally sighs, sagging back against Jason.

"You are entirely too convincing," Damian complains.

"You're only letting yourself get convinced because you want to like him," Jason says. "You just feel threatened."

Damian huffs and folds his arms across his chest.

They watch until Slade approaches, frisbee in hand.

"You guys want to take over?" He says. "Joey said he wanted to talk in private." Jason can feel Damian stiffen in response, but he pushes Damian off his lap, reaching up to take the frisbee.

"Sure," he says. "We'll see if we can tire Titus out."

"Impossible," Damian says. "Titus never gets tired."

Chapter 21

It's dark by the time Slade and Joey return from their talk, and Jason's long since been tired out. Damian's still attempting to play catch with Titus, but the dog shows no signs of exhaustion even after more than an hour of play.

"Up you go," Slade says, reaching down to haul Jason to his feet. "We should head inside. Bugs are starting to come out."

Joey seems quiet, but he doesn't seem upset, and Jason takes that as a good thing.

Bruce is still up, looking annoyed.

"I told him it was non-negotiable," Bruce says. "So he's going tomorrow, as is Joey. You're all in the same plaza, so..."

"I can drive them," Jason volunteers. "It's not an issue."

"I'm going to take the ikon suits over to Lucius and see what they can do," Bruce says. "Along with some other information we have. We'll see what he can do with it."

"I've got patrol tonight," Jason says. "Assuming my schedule is up to date."

They've gotten significantly more relaxed with schedules, but Jason doesn't mind the idea of getting back into the field.

"Before you go," Slade says. "Joey and I did want to talk to you both about something. And... Alfred, if he's around."

"I'll get him," Bruce says.

They assemble in the living room, missing only Thomas, and Slade and Joey stand just in front of them. Jason braces himself for whatever is about to get announced, expecting the worst.

"I know this is probably going to come as a surprise," Slade says, "but Joey and I talked about our... relationship, and we've decided to step it back."

Jason has absolutely no idea what that means, and thankfully he doesn't actually need to ask, because Slade doesn't leave them hanging.

"I'm not his father," he says. "He still has a father, even if he's both an asshole and in another dimension. Joey doesn't want this to feel like he's replacing him, and I don't want to be his replacement. So we're... starting something else."

He's not going to be my father, Joey signs. And I won't be... part of the family in that way. Think of me more like a guest.

Jason isn't sure how he feels about that. He's not sure about the idea that it feels like Joey's just cut himself off from them.

Nothing will change, Joey signs as if he just read Jason's extremely predictable mind. But I don't want to be a replacement for this world's Joey for Slade or for Adeline.

Ah. That makes a little more sense to Jason, and he nods.

"But he's still staying," Slade says. "Think of him like... A very good friend's son, who's come to stay with us."

"Only the very good friend isn't a friend at all, because we established he was an asshole," Jason says.

"Yes," Slade says with a snort. "But the idea of it, Jason."

"I was thinking that Joey might be interested in watching how we handle things at night," Bruce says. "I'm on monitor duty tonight, and having another set of eyes might be nice."

Jason's pretty sure Bruce is thinking about Ivy's warning, but he guesses it's as much about wanting Joey to feel integrated into the group.

Sure, Joey signs. I'm curious to see how you do things.

Jason grabs a basket from Alfred and suits up, giving Joey a quick wave before hopping on his bike and heading out.

Gotham is nothing like it once was. It's a quiet, peaceful place, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still have its shady parts. Jason relies on Bruce (and Joey) to be paying attention to the police scanner, and heads towards the north end of Gotham.

Technically speaking, no one outside the family knows that Raptor is the same person as the second Batman. But some groups are more familiar with others. He considers it a major oversight in Gotham that no one bothered to check with the working girls, because they all know just who he is.

Not that they'd ever say.

"Raptor!" One of them says when he stops the bike on just the right street corner, darting out to plant a kiss on the side of his helmet. "What'd you bring me?"

Jason pops the storage on the side of his bike, retrieving his gift from the basket Alfred gave him.

"Muffins," he says. "Banana walnut, except for Cheryl, who gets special banana-only ones."

"You're a sweetheart," she says, accepting the offered muffin. "Lexi's out tonight, and Denise is with a john right now."

He hands her a second muffin, with a clear this is for Denise implied. "Got anything for me?"

"Nothing exciting," she says. "Saw a few military guys, so there might be a convoy going through."

Libbi isn't the only one who has similar information. Jason makes six more muffin-drops, picking up information as he weaves his way through Gotham's north end. Three of the girls have a similar story to him: A lot of military-type Johns. No patches or official markings, but the type is easy enough to spot without them.

He hands the contents of the basket off to the last girl he sees and heads back towards the center of town. Gotham doesn't have its own military base, so seeing so many soldier types in Gotham screams more of mercenaries than actual soldiers.

He stops by a convenience store robbery, but the situation is already being handled, so he simply gives a quick wave and heads off.

The rest of the night is quiet, and Jason heads home early, letting Bruce handle his report.

Joey's already in bed when he gets back, but he does catch Slade in the kitchen, grabbing himself a late night snack as he waits for Bruce to finish up.

"Dad," he says, and Slade looks awfully guilty, standing there with his hand in Alfred's trail mix.

"Don't tell Alfred," he says quickly, and Jason rolls his eyes.

"You didn't hear anything from me," Jason says, "but Damian's been feeling a bit put out lately. Could probably use some one on one time."

Slade frowns at that and doesn't respond right away, clearly mulling it over before giving Jason a nod.

"Been meaning to take him on a day trip," he says. "There's a petting zoo a little bit up north I thought he might like. Maybe it'll get him off this whole I want a cow thing."

"Or make him worse," Jason says.

"I'm not sure it's possible for it to be worse than it currently is," Slade says. "He wants a cow for god's sake."

"Maybe buy him a cow," Jason suggests, and when Slade looks significantly scandalized Jason waves him off. "Just have him keep it at the farm. So he can visit."

"Mmm," Slade says. "Not a bad idea."

"Happy to help," Jason says. "Now put the trail mix back and nobody gets hurt."

Chapter 22

Bruce loads them up before he lets them leave. Joey and Thomas both get their own phones, as well as a set of temporary IDs while their real ones are produced. Thomas looks unhappy to be going with them at all, but he doesn't protest as they climb into Jason's car, with Joey grabbing the passenger seat.

The drive is quiet and largely uneventful. Joey seems more interested in watching out the windows than talking, and Thomas doesn't seem interested in anything at all. His therapist is located in the middle of a large medical plaza, and while Thomas shares a building with him, Joey's on the other end. He makes sure to park in between them.

"We should all be done around the same time," Jason says. "But I've got your numbers and you've got mine if someone's late."

He half expects Thomas to stay in the car, but in the end he does get out, heading into the building along with Jason. They part ways in the elevator, and Jason heads to his regular appointment, letting himself into the waiting room.

Lonnie is there, sitting just behind the desk like normal, and when Jason enters he gives him a quick wave.

"Morning," he says. "Doc's just finishing up."

Jason likes Lonnie, even if he finds Lonnie a bit talkative for his tastes. If he had a choice he wouldn't say a single word before therapy, but Lonnie likes to chat and it's just the two of them. Lonnie's been handling Hudson's appointments since before Jason was even a patient, and seeing him once a week means Jason knows him well enough.

Like the fact that Lonnie is a huge fan of Gotham's vigilantes with the sole exception of the original Batman, who Lonnie refers to as a 'huge asshole'.

"Morning," Jason says. "Anything new?"

"'Course," Lonnie says. "There's always something new. One of the Bats was out last night. Jan said it was probably Batgirl, but I'm pretty sure it was Raptor."

"Not sure how you could mix those two up," Jason says. "Not exactly a similar profile. Raptor's built like a tank."

Maybe it's childish, but Jason never gets tired of talking about himself in third person. Apparently it runs in the family, because Bruce and Slade do the same damn thing.

"They weren't the only ones up there," Lonnie says, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Nine said that they saw a pack of four or five guys running the rooftops yesterday evening."

Once upon a time, Jason was convinced that Lonnie knew who he was. That he knew he was one of the Bats, even if he didn't know he was the Bat. But years later, Jason knows the truth: Lonnie just knows he has a connection to Bruce Wayne, and assumes that if he gives Jason any particularly important details, they'll probably get back to the Bats before long.

He's not wrong, either.

"Kids messing around?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow. "Certainly wouldn't be the first pack of teenagers to go running around on the rooftops."

"Nah," Lonnie says. "These guys had guns."

Definitely not kids.

"Keeping Jason busy?" Hudson asks from the door, and Jason hops to his feet as Lonnie leans back, looking embarrassed. "Can you shift all of Jason's future appointments to this timeslot from now on?"

"Can do," Lonnie says. "See you."

He turns his attention back to the computer, and Jason heads into the room.

Hudson's long past the age he probably should have retired, coasting through his twilight years with a dwindling number of patients. His hair's gone completely white since Jason first met him, and Jason's pretty sure he spends more time going jogging through the state's national parks than he does actually sitting in his office.

Jason's half sure he probably would have retired already, save for the fact that Jason still sees him once a week like clockwork. When he does retire, Jason's not sure what he'll do. Stop going? Try and find a new one?

"Alright," Hudson says as he sits down. "Hit me with this, I'm ready."

So Jason does. He runs through the whole thing. Bruce and Slade vanishing, coming back, and then leaving again. He explains about Thomas and Joey (Hudson looks increasingly strained), and then about what the other Jason was like.

By the time he's done, Hudson looks as tired as he feels.

"Well," he says, "on the plus side, I think you handled it all really well. You've come a long way from where you were when we first met, and situations like these make it very obvious. You had a perfectly understandable emotional reaction to what you heard. You didn't lash out, and even your self destructive tendencies were fairly contained. I am concerned you may not be taking proper care of your injuries, though."

He gives a pointed look towards the bandages on Jason's hands, and Jason tucks them out of sight, embarrassed. He hasn't done too much with them, but he probably should have had Alfred re-wrap them before he left the house.

"I'll make sure to do it when I get home," he says.

"The point is more to make sure that you're taking care of your own needs," Hudson says. "You have a tendency to put yourself last, and while it's something you're working on, it does tend to flare up in times of stress."

This is all well worn ground for them, things they've touched on before. Even so, Jason feels significantly more relaxed having explained everything that happened. It feels good knowing someone else understands what happened, even if it's colored by his own perceptions.

Hudson walks him through his usual exercises, assigning him his homework for the week and then calling it a day. There wasn't as much talking as Jason would like, but then just explaining everything that happened took up so much time.

There's always next time.

Joey's waiting by the car when he gets out, and Jason gives him a wave as he heads over.

"Everything go alright?"

Joey wiggles his hand in response.

So-so, he signs. We had a bit of a learning curve to start before we found a good flow. I think they might be in a bit over their head with the whole other dimension thing.

"If they don't work out, we can find someone else," Jason says. "You have to find a good fit. I went through six before I found one I liked enough to talk about anything."

He thinks Joey might have a harder time of it, but he figures there has to be more than one therapist who's ASL friendly in Gotham.

Thomas shows up at five minutes past the hour, looking just as grumpy as he was when he went in.

"No issues?" Jason asks, pulling open the driver's side door.

"No issues," Thomas says without elaborating any further.

They arrive home to a nearly empty house. Alfred reports that Bruce is still at work, and Slade's taken Damian on a trip, so it's just the four of them instead. Thomas announces he's going to go rest (Jason can't blame him, he's pretty sure he slept for days after his first few therapy sessions) right up until the point where Jason mentions he'll be down in the cave. Abruptly, Thomas changes his mind, and ends up tagging along down to the basement while Joey goes to lie down.

Jason figures there's no real harm in it. Thomas has already been down there before, and he's not actually touching anything, just observing as Jason checks in on things. He checks some messages, makes sure everyone else was relayed the information they've gotten (both about Ivy and a potential mercenary group operating in Gotham), and by the time he's finished the manor's security is letting him know that Bruce is back.

"We should go meet him," Jason says, which is a polite way of kicking Thomas out of the cave. He doesn't mind him being there, but he's sure as hell not letting him hang out down there alone.

Probably better to be safe.

Chapter 23

Bruce doesn't bother waiting for Slade to get back, filling Jason (and Thomas) in once he's fully in the door.

"Ikon suits are a bust," he says. "Lucius inspected them, but he's already encountered several materials that don't even exist. If we'll let him take one of them apart he might be able to actually get something out of it, but that'll be up to Slade or Joey."

Jason doubts Joey will give his up. Even if he doesn't plan to do the whole hero thing, it's still one of the few things he has from his old world. In his place, he wouldn't give it up for anything.

He doubts Slade is going to give his up either, but for much different reasons.

"I also checked in with Clark," Bruce adds. "He says he looked into the whole secret clone thing and didn't find anything. Obviously he can't just ask Luthor about it, but he searched around and nothing."

He doesn't seem all that surprised, so Jason just nods. Thomas grunts, muttering something under his breath about Luthor, and Bruce ignores him.

"How was therapy?" Bruce adds, and while he's technically talking to both of them, his eyes drift over to Thomas.

"No complaints," Jason says.

"Fine," Thomas says.

Bruce doesn't push, even if Jason wishes he would. He'd like to know what the hell Thomas talked about, because he suspects the answer is 'not as much as he should'.

Jason excuses himself to check in with Michael about work, and by the time he comes back Damian and Slade are just getting home. Slade looks exhausted, which means something truly terrible has happened, and Jason discovers what it is when Damian bounces in the door, acting more like Jon Kent than any Damian Wayne that Jason's ever heard of.

"We own a cow!" Damian announces.

Slade drags a hand across his face.

"There was a cow with a bat thing across its face," he says. "Damian is pretty sure that's the same Batcow that the other Damian had, so now that one is Batcow."

"Please tell me it's staying at the farm," Bruce says. He sounds like a broken man in that instant.

"It's staying at the farm," Slade says. "They're going to take care of it. We're just... paying for its fee-"

"Her," Damian says. "Batcow is a her."

"Paying for her feed," Slade says. "Damian can go visit. I was thinking maybe making it a thing. Going up to help around the farm."

"Serious question," Jason says. "Have you ever been on a farm? Ever? In your entire life?"

"I once hid out at a farm," Slade says, which is a very roundabout way of saying no.

"I think it's safe to say none of us have ever been to a farm," Bruce says. "Who knows, maybe we'll like it."

I am a city boy, Joey signs. The most city of all city boys. Farms and I do not get along.

"I roll around in Gotham's gutters, but I am not going to go anywhere near cow shit," Jason says. "Sorry dad, this one's all you."

"I have work," Bruce says, which is the most blatant excuse he can manage. "I can't be away that long."

"Thomas?" Slade asks, giving his most desperate look.

Thomas grunts.

"Maybe," he says. "I'll think about it."

Damian proceeds to make sure they all see the pictures he took of Batcow, and Jason notes him taking particular care to show Joey as well.

"If I may interrupt," Alfred says from the doorway, "Master Tim has just called. I am afraid Jackson has taken ill, and was wondering if anyone here would be willing to take over his patrol tonight. Miss Brown has a test tomorrow morning and is unable to substitute."

"I can take it," Jason says immediately.

"You were last night," Slade says. "You're not doing two in a row."

"We used to do weeks without break," Jason says. "This is nothing."

Slade rolls his eye.

"Alright," he says. "I'm going tonight. You can take my patrol tomorrow."

Jason doesn't actually have any reason to object to that, so he simply shrugs his agreement.

"Sure," he says. "I'll get some rest tonight."

It feels like things are slowing down, which is nice, but Jason has absolutely no faith that things are going to stay slow. They never do. He plans to take advantage of the time where he can though, and he glances over to Joey, considering his options.

"Why don't we hit up some stores tomorrow?" He says. "Get you some stuff for your room... new clothes... stuff like that. Did you unpack yet?"

Not yet, Joey signs. I wasn't sure if I'd be staying.

"Well, you are," Jason says. "You should probably move into the family wing."

"It isn't a bad idea," Bruce says. "I think it would make more sense if both Thomas and Joey were near the rest of us, rather than at the far end of the house."

"May I remind you," Alfred says pointedly, "that we only have one spare room? While I've cleared the room that was once claimed by Titus, the other room is not yet suitable for sleeping in. Among other things, it lacks a bathroom and a wardrobe."

"I don't plan on staying in the dog's room," Thomas says, wrinkling his nose. "I'll take the master bedroom in the guest wing now that it's empty."

It seems like a pointless flex to Jason, but it does mean there's no need to argue over who goes where, so he simply carries on undisturbed.

"That works," he says. "I'll take Joey out to pick stuff up tomorrow. Make a little trip of it."

"I'll take Thomas to get some more clothes," Bruce says, which definitely means we're going to the tailor.

Damian considers, and then nods to Jason.

"I will go with Jason," he says. "Joseph will need help picking things out that will match the house. And he is in Titus's old room: I know it best."

"You sure do," Jason says with a snort.

They eat dinner, and then Jason finally lets Alfred peel the bandages away and replace them. He gets a small lecture on not using his hands so much, but it's such an ingrained habit that it's hard to make himself stop. There's not enough pain to really remind him, and in the end he lets Alfred apply small splints to the back of his hands. They don't do anything, but they apply a bit of pressure when he tries to make a fist, reminding him he's not supposed to.

"Please take care of yourself, Master Jason," Alfred says quietly. "You know we all worry."

Alfred's always been absolutely deadly with the guilt trips.

"I know Al," he says. "I'll be more careful. I'll even make Joey carry his own stuff tomorrow, alright?"

"I am... happy to see you two getting along," Alfred says. "You have been so kind to someone who has so little. I think we were all worried that you might feel... pushed out."

"Damian does a bit," he says. "I'm going to try and make sure they get to know each other a bit better tomorrow. See if they can find some common ground."

Alfred's smile makes him feel warm inside, and he quickly averts his eyes. The old man knows just how to get to him, doesn't he?

"Of course," Alfred says. "I'll make sure you have snacks for tomorrow night's patrol prepared as well."

"Thanks Al," Jason says. "You're the best."

Chapter 24

If Jason can only love one thing in the world, he's pretty sure it'd be Alfred's cooking, and he makes absolutely sure Alfred knows it as he works through the absolutely indulgent stack of blueberry pancakes the following morning.

"Before anything else," Bruce says, glancing between Slade and Joey. "Should I assume that neither of you is willing to give up your Ikon suit to be deconstructed?"

I would prefer not to, Joey signs.

"Hell no," Slade says. "Maybe if it breaks, Lucius can have it, but otherwise I'm keeping it."

Jason isn't surprised by neither answer, and he isn't the only one. Not even Bruce seems terribly shocked, waving off their answers with a polite I'll let Lucius know before turning his attention back to his breakfast.

"I'm going to take Thomas to get some new clothes," Bruce says, his attention turning to Joey. "Did you bring enough?"

Joey finishes the mouthful he has, setting his fork aside to answer.

I have enough high end stuff for now, he signs. I think I probably need some stuff for around the house, but I'm sure we can find that while out.

"I was thinking of hitting up the mall," Jason says. "We can get him some clothes while we're there."

"If that's alright with you," Bruce says, his attention flicking back to Joey as if he thinks there's a reasonable chance Joey might say no, sorry, I only want high end clothes that are custom tailored.

That's fine, Joey signs instead.

Slade stays home to do some work around the manor, and Jason grabs Damian and Joey before heading into downtown Gotham.

For the most part, he lets Joey decide where they're going. He seems familiar with most of the stores, and despite him being worried Joey's going to try and be cheap when he's using Bruce's card, it's a pointless worry. Joey doesn't go crazy with the expenses or anything, but he also doesn't spend a ton of time worrying about whether Bruce Wayne will be able to afford a fifty dollar pair of jeans.

They grab some nice candles for Alfred when Damian points out that the ones in the kitchen are almost burnt down, and then head to a home goods store to grab Joey things for his room. He picks out softer colors, which Damian approves of, and grabs two pillows for himself, adding them to the cart.

They make it all the way to the checkout before Jason realizes Damian's slipped in an extremely overpriced display easel.

"Oh no," he says. "Bruce said you weren't supposed to get any art supplies that weren't good quality."

"This isn't an art supply," Damian protests. "This is for display."

"Alfred has someone who does professional framing," Jason says. "You don't need something that's going to break the moment Titus runs into it."

"Titus is perfectly well behaved," Damian says. "He would never collide with something I had set up."

"Put it back," Jason says, handing Damian the easel and watching him sulk off with it as he finishes paying for the rest of their stuff.

What are you trying to display? Joey signs when Damian gets back, which is the exact wrong thing to do because Damian latches onto the idea.

"My art," he says. "It needs a proper place to be displayed."

"In your own room?" Jason asks. "You already have stuff elsewhere in the house, and easels are big, and again... a cat and a dog."

"Portia would never!"

"Portia has already destroyed three pieces of pottery," Jason says. "If you wanted someone who'd roll over and buy it for you, you should have brought Slade."

Damian does his best to look offended, but in the end he looks more smug than anything else.

They load the car with everything they've bought, and then head to the food court to get lunch. Damian ends up getting some Thai food, giving Jason and Joey dirty looks when Jason settles on fast food instead.

"Alfred would not approve," Damian says.

"Alfred wouldn't approve of anything in here," Jason says. "But what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

He eats his burger anyway. It's not Alfred good, but it's a different kind of enjoyable.

They don't need anything, but Jason ends up stopping by the big bookstore anyway, hunting through the stacks until he spots a familiar face.

"Cullen!" He says. "Wasn't sure if you were working today."

Cullen's head snaps up, swinginging around to find Jason, and then relaxes when he recognizes him.

"Jason," he says, straightening up. "You should have texted."

"Didn't know when I was going to be here, and probably shouldn't stick around too long. The squirt has to leave for class soon." He hooks his thumb towards Damian, who makes a face at him.

"Oh," Jason adds, gesturing to Joey. "This is Joey."

"Family friend?" Cullen asks, shaking Joey's offered hand. Joey nods in response, and Jason grins.

"How's your sign?" He asks.

"...Libra...?" Cullen asks, the picture of confusion, and Damian laughs.

"Sorry," Jason says, apologetic. "ASL."

Joey's already pulling his phone out, holding it in front of him as the screen lights up.

"Sorry," Joey says. "Mute, and ASL tends to work a bit better for me."

"Oh!" Cullen says. "Afraid I can finger spell, and that's like... it. Sorry."

"Cullen's sister works over at Wayne Outreach," Jason explains. "Which is how we met."

"And we're still friends because Jason recognizes the inherent superiority of manga over western comics."

He taps the shelf, and Jason's eyes swing over to determine that... yeah, of course they're standing in the middle of graphic novels.

"What is it you do here?" Damian says, looking Cullen's uniform up and down.

"I handle restocking for this area," he says. "Making sure products get ordered, everything looks nice... all that stuff."

"Actually, can you help us find something?" He asks, and Cullen reaches up, grabbing a box off the shelf and nodding.

"Sure," he says. "Just let me put this in the back."

Cullen turns out to be pretty damned good at navigating his way through the giant bookstore, and he's able to help Jason locate a fairly up to date reference book titled The Rise of the Superhero.

"The internet has all this information," Jason says as he hands it over to Joey, "but I thought it might be a bit more organized in book form. Give you a... more clear understanding of how things went down here."

"Ohhh," Cullen says, his voice dropping. "Alien?"

"Another dimension," Joey says with a grin. "I relocated."

"What?" Cullen says, his voice going even lower. "Your dads brought someone back?"

"And an alternate of Bruce's dad," Jason says.

"I cannot believe you are having this conversation in a public place," Damian says, throwing his hands up. "You will have to buy my silence."

He immediately slinks off towards the sketchbook section.

"Maybe not a bad idea," Jason says. "I need to get a new one for class anyway."

"You're going to college...?" Joey asks, looking bewildered.

"Oh no," Jason says. "Sorry. Art class-"

"I actually should probably get going," Cullen says. "But it was nice meeting you, Joey!"

Joey says his own goodbyes, the two shake hands again, and then Cullen heads back towards his designated section as Jason and Joey head for the sketchbooks.

"Like I was saying," Jason says. "Damian goes to these art classes, and since they're for kids you're supposed to bring someone older than you. A parent or an older sibling or something. Bruce isn't allowed to go because he distracted the whole class by being Bruce, so when it's our turn Slade and I swap off."

You're an artist? Joey signs after he tucks his phone away.

"Calling me an artist is giving me far too much credit," he says as they stop just behind Damian, who's digging his way through a stack of sketchbooks. "I can barely do stick figures. Art is absolutely not my calling."

"This one's for you," Damian says, shoving a notebook into Jason's hands. "And this one is for me."

Jason can't help but notice that the one Damian's picked out for him is ten dollars and spiral bound, and Damian's picked out a nice hardback one for himself.

At least he knows what his art is worth.

They head to the cashiers, but not before Damian manages to convince Jason that he really needs a new pack of high quality color pencils. Jason makes a point of walking back to the car via the parking lot rather than through the mall, preventing Damian from convincing him to buy anything else.

Jason can't help but think that when it comes to Damian, he's as bad as Slade sometimes.

Jason makes a point of letting Damian and Joey unpack the car when they get back, earning himself an approving look from Alfred for not using his hands.

"Hi!" Jon says loudly, and Joey jumps, dropping the side table in his hands as he spins around to find the young boy floating just off the ground behind him.

"Mister Kent," Alfred says, his disapproval obvious. "I believe we have rules about announcing your presence at the back door so that we know you've arrived."

"And rules about flying," Damian says. "But if you're going to be here, you'd better help us carry."

Jon hefts the heaviest of their purchases with one hand, grinning up at Joey.

"You're the one they brought back, right?" Jon asks, lifting slightly higher off the ground to be on eye level with Joey.

Joey signs back, but it immediately becomes obvious that Jon doesn't understand, so Jason steps in.

"You can talk once everything's unloaded," he says. "Joey needs his hands for carrying."

He herds Jon inside, dropping all their purchases just inside the door.

"I've got... what, ten minutes before we need to leave?" Jason asks Alfred, who nods his confirmation. "Probably not enough time to get anything put away."

If you want, Joey signs, I could drive them. It's just art class, right?

Jason pauses. It isn't something he'd considered, and Joey does technically have that temporary ID...

Bruce would hate it, but it would definitely get Damian some time with Joey...

"Yeah," he says, ignoring Alfred's look of disapproval. "We switch off with the Kents for who drives them to it. I can give you the address, but it's just at this school on the south side of Gotham."

"I could drive," Damian volunteers.

"You need a designated adult," Jason says. "And Joey going means you don't have to suffer through my stick figures."

He's pretty sure Damian knows exactly why Jason is letting Joey take his place, because he goes along with it almost painfully easy.

"Straight there and then straight back after class," Alfred says as he hands the keys over to Joey. "And if Master Bruce asks, I was on the far side of the house helping unpack when you hatched this plan."

Chapter 25

Slade turns out to have gone out, which makes Jason feel a smidge better about letting Joey take the boys, but does make him wonder about just where he's gone.

Before anything else, he makes a point to unpack everything they picked up. He doesn't want to set up the whole of Joey's room for him or anything, so he sets most of it into a small pile on the side of the room. He also doesn't want to dig into his bag, but he does load up the dresser with the new clothes they got him.

Alfred collects up the new bedding they've gotten, getting it into the washer before stripping the bed.

"You've been very helpful," Alfred says. "Thank you."

Jason doesn't think he's been doing much at all, but he's also counting on Alfred to shield him from Bruce's intense annoyance.

Because Bruce is definitely annoyed when he gets back from a long day out with his not-quite-father, loaded up with clothes and other supplies, and finds that Jason is home.

"What?" He says. "Aren't you supposed to be at class? Did it get cancelled?"

He swings his head around as if expecting Damian to dart out from nowhere, but only finds Portia perched on a handrail.

"He went," Jason says. "Joey took them."

Bruce scowls.

"Jason," he says. "Joey does not have a driver's license."

"Slade was out," Jason says. "Someone had to unpack."

"He is not legal to drive."

"Bruce," Jason says, trying to be as serious as he can manage. "A lot of the things we do aren't legal. Joey can drive just fine, and it's a quick trip down to the school and back. And it's an excellent opportunity for Damian to get to know him."

Bruce grunts, which means you're right but you won't catch me dead admitting it, and goes to help Thomas with his things.

Slade still isn't back when Jason's car returns with Joey and the boys inside, but the thought gets knocked right out of his head when Damian slams in the door at top speed, Jon hot on his heels.

"He's really good!" He yells, as if the announcement is some kind of world ending proclamation.

"Keys," Bruce says, holding out his hand, and Joey carefully places them in his hand. "No driving until you get your license. I'll get you an appointment when your ID gets here."

"Father!" Damian says. "Aren't you going to ask why he's good?"

"Probably figured you'd tell us all on your own," Jason says with a grin. "Or Jon would."

Jon does immediately.

"When they made us all show what we'd done for the warm up the teacher got all shocked when she saw Joeys! I think she's in love."

She's not in love, Joey signs frantically. She was just surprised.

"She was swooning," Damian says with a nod. "Jon is correct."

I ruined the exercise, Joey signs with a wince.

"Perhaps someone could explain for an old man who has never attended these classes...?" Alfred asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Class starts with a ten minute sketch of something, and then everyone goes around and shows what they've done," Jason says. "The point is to show the kids that everyone is trying their best and there are... varying skill levels at play."

By which he means that his is really bad, and Damians is really good, and everyone else sits somewhere in between.

"Look!" Damian announces, holding up his sketchbook to show a sketch of a stuffed toy on a table. "And this is his." He grabs another sketchbook—the cheap one he got for Jason—and holds it up.

It's... good. Damian's pretty much a master of quick pencil sketches, and Joey's is about on par. There's a bit more technical edge to it, and Jason looks up over the notebook to Joey as Damian shows everyone else.

Joey's gone pink.

I just had a lot of practice, he signs.

"Did you do like... actual art?" Jason asks. "Like... as a real thing?"

"I think what Jason means to say is if you did this sort of thing professionally," Bruce asks, eyes flicking between the sketches.

Not sketches, Joey signs. But I used to do a lot of art when I was younger.

Jason thinks back to Joey's it's nothing important in the office when Jason had asked him what he'd done before he started working at his mom's company. 

"What sort of art?" Jason asks.

Painting, mostly, he signs. Before my powers started showing up, ma got me into a lot of extracurriculars.

"Like?" Bruce asks.

Dance, art, music... Her preferences were pretty clear, Joey signs.

"All that and business and vigilantism... You're a regular quintuple threat," Jason says.

Thomas steps into the entranceway, glancing around.

"What's happening?" He asks.

"Apparently Joey's an artist," Jason says. "We were just talking about that."

Bruce swings his head around, as if noticing Slade's absence for the first time.

"Where's Slade?" He says.

"He left just before lunch," Alfred says. "He said he had something to do."

Bruce hnns and pulls out his phone, making no secret of who he's calling. However, when he lifts the phone to his ear it's obvious that no one picks up.

"Went to voicemail," he finally says. "Which is concerning."

"This isn't emergency tracker time yet," Jason says. "Give him a couple hours."

"Perhaps after dinner is finished," Alfred says.

They see Jon off at the back door, promising to let Clark know if Slade's still gone that evening, and then head to eat.

Dinner is subdued by the absence of Slade, and Bruce is clearly making plans to track his phone when the manor's security alerts them to an unfamiliar car in front of the gate. Bruce frowns at the cameras but buzzes them in, abandoning the table mid-meal to head to the door.

Jason and everyone else goes after him.

The truck—which clearly has Slade in it—swings around back, out of sight of the gate before it unloads both Slade and Denali.

"Slade?" Bruce asks. "How worried should I be?"

"Moderately," Slade says, grabbing a suitcase. "Someone tried to off Denali and he pressed his emergency get me the fuck out of here button."

"I apologize for the suddenness," Denali says. "Being compromised isn't particularly fun for me."

"Inside," Bruce says, waving them in.

Denali catches sight of Joey halfway in, and Slade has to nudge his back to get him inside.

"Joseph," he says, "I presume."

Joey nods, holding out his hand, and there's a quick handshake. Denali hasn't really met any of them except for him, so Jason takes point, handing off his suitcase to Damian as he ushers him into the living room.

"I'll prepare an extra plate," Alfred says, heading to the kitchen.

"So," Bruce says, "explain?"

"Two figures attempted to kill me," Denali says. "But ran into several of my security protocols. I was able to take shelter in my safe room and signal for Slade to come. They'd already left by the time he arrived, so I was able to collect my things before we left."

"Do we know who?" Bruce asks.

"If I was a betting man," Denali says, "I would put my money on David Cain and his new assistant. I was in the process of looking into him when it happened, and the larger of the two figures fit his profile."

So Cassandra exists? Joey signs.

"Seems so," Slade says. "Denali's got the tapes from his home security, so we'll have to see if anyone can get anything off them."

"I doubt there's anything to find," Denali says, digging into the plate of food Alfred sets in front of him like a starving man. "They didn't stick around, not even to cover their tracks or make any real attempts to broach my safe room."

"Sorry about not calling," Slade says, leaning down to kiss his temple. "I left my motorcycle at a local garage and told AAA to tow it back. Needed to bring something that could haul his stuff."

"Please tell me your old suit came with you," Bruce says. "Please tell me two mercenaries don't have it."

"It's with my luggage," Denali says. "I wouldn't have left it behind."

"Neither would I," Slade says. "This isn't world ending, but hopefully Denali can stay with us until we deal with Cain?"

"Of course," Bruce says. "He's an old friend of yours, and it was our request that put a target on the back."

"The question is where they went after attacking Denali," Jason says.

"Please," Denali says. "I think Wintergreen is just fine."

"You're all taking this well," Thomas says, glancing around the table. "Is no one... concerned that you have two mercenaries after you?"

"Probably just me," Wintergreen says. "It's not as if I attached your name to my inquiries."

"Considering who lives in this house," Jason says, "I'm not really all that worried, no. We've all been training with the best mercenary to ever live and Batman. This just means we're now on buddy protocol."

Buddy protocol? Joey signs right as Thomas says the same thing.

"No one goes anywhere alone," Bruce says. "Anyone without formal training needs to stay with someone who does."

"It happens pretty regularly," Jason says. "Bruce being public means that sometimes people do go after us, but we're prepared for it."

"I can take Cain if he tries," Slade says. "I'm not worried."

"At this point I suspect Alfred could take Cain," Jason says.

"You're overestimating my abilities, I'm afraid," Alfred says. "But I'll make sure I remain with one of you just in case."

Jason has patrol that evening, so he ends up leaving to head down to the cave and get ready. He can't help but wonder what Wintergreen might say to Joey, and he's surprised when Slade comes down after him.

"Buddy protocol, remember?" Slade says. "You're not going out alone."

Jason tries to think of something to argue with, and eventually gives up. There's nothing he can possibly say.

"I was actually going to see if Joey would be willing to help," Jason says. "If we've got men with guns running along Gotham rooftops, we'd be able to see them better from the sky."

"You're thinking about launching a glider?" Slade asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I was thinking about launching a glider and having someone flying along with me for aerial support."

"He might not want to go, you know," Slade says. "He did say he was retired."

"I figure it's worth a shot," he says. "Or I'll see if I can borrow the suit. But we've only got one glider, and it'll be a hell of a lot easier to get a good view of the city from the air."

He lets Slade ask as he gets all his gear ready, pulling the glider out of storage. They don't use it often, but it has quite a few perks over the Batwing. It's a hell of a lot more subtle, and far less likely to draw attention. On a cloudy night, no one's going to see a damn thing until Jason drops from the sky.

He's not all that surprised when Joey appears on the cave's stairs, the Ikon suit tucked under his arm.

Bruce had to get it out of the car, he signs. Sorry for making you wait.

"You didn't make me wait," he says. "Haven't even changed yet. Was just getting the glider ready."

I'll go do that then, Joey signs, ducking into the bathroom. When he returns, it's dressed in the Ikon suit, the mask pulled down around his neck. Jason ducks in to change, and when he returns in his Raptor gear, he finds Joey and Slade by the computer, fiddling with something.

"What're we doing?" Jason asks, leaning over to inspect.

"Hooking Joey's subvocal microphone to our system," Slade says. "If he's going to be in the field, he needs to be able to talk to you at a moment's notice."

"Ah fuck," Jason says. "Is it going to work with our security?"

"Long story short, no," he says. "He's going to carry a modified communicator, and we're going to have to bounce it from that to us."

"Is that-"

"It's not going to delay things," Slade says. "Barb's just finishing up."

It doesn't take more than five minutes, during which Joey tucks the communicator into one of the suit's belt pouches.

"You hearing me?" He says, and Jason gives him a thumbs up.

"Loud and clear."

When Jason launches himself on the glider out over Gotham harbor later that night, he does so with Joey at his side, a speck of white against the dark sky.

Chapter 26

Jason tries not to be, but there's no stopping him from feeling at least a little bit jealous at the way Joey effortlessly zips through the sky. Jason, on the other hand, has to carefully manage the glider, catching thermals around Gotham to get himself the right height. A few times Joey zips down, pulling at the top to help Jason get a bit more height, but for the most part he can manage unassisted.

"What am I calling you while we're out here?" Jason asks, and it's unusual to not have to glance back and look.

"Jericho," Joey says, and Jason feels the name like an itch scratching at his brain.

"Why do I know that name, exactly?"

"It's biblical," Joey says. "Jesus healed the blind there, and you had the parable of the Good Samaritan."

Jason is not up on his biblical references, but he nods as if he is before realizing that with Jericho above him, the glider hides him completely.

"Got it," he says, his eyes on the rooftops. "Let me know if you see anyone... you know, running around the rooftops."

"Will do," Joey says. Whenever Jason checks, he seems to be staying nearby, which probably isn't a bad idea.

It's Joey who spots them first, dropping down until he's just below Jason and pointing off to the north. Jason can barely see them, but when he squints he spots movement on the rooftops, and he angles the glider down, dropping closer as Joey flies out of sight, vanishing behind the glider to anyone down below.

Joey has good instincts for this sort of thing, even if he has been retired for years.

He can pick out more details as he get closer. There are four of them, and they're all wearing clothes too bulky for the temperature. Jason's pretty sure it's to hide body armor, because the odds that there are four people up on a Gotham rooftop who all have issues staying warm seems vanishingly unlikely.

They all have guns. Not just handguns or sport rifles, but proper military grade gear. Jason knows better than to snap two pieces together without making sure they fit, but he's pretty sure he just found the military guys that the girls were talking about. They scream it. The fact that they're moving in a picture-perfect diamond formation really sells it.

"I'm going in," Jason says. "Glider's bullet proof, so stand by."

He waits for Joey's confirmation, then drops.

If he didn't already think they were professionals before, he certainly would when he hits the roof. Gotham's low end criminals are used to the idea of the bat, and tend to spook and bolt when he lands. Gotham's high end criminals tend to react to spooky noises with violence.

Professionals don't fire until they know what the fuck they're firing at. Three gun barrels get pointed at him immediately, the last one on watch for an extra bats popping out of the sky, and through the small window in the glider he's using as a shield he can see the guy's eyes go up.

One of the three redirects his gun, training it on Joey even though he's well out of range. Jason feels only the faintest flicker of concern before he accepts the obvious: Slade himself would have a hard time making that shot, and even if he did make it, Joey's in a bulletproof suit.

"Gotham's closed," Jason says, letting the modulator in his helmet make him sound nice and intimidating. "And we don't take kindly to armed professionals stalking along our rooftops."

Jason's seen a lot of reactions to similar speeches. Most of the time it's shots fired. Once (and only once) he had the criminals just... go home. He is not used to get to the group turning inwards, their guns still pointed as they devolve into a hushed conversation with each other.

What the fuck.

"Did I stutter?" Jason says, squinting towards them as he tries to figure out what in the fresh fuck is going on. This is not the expected behavior for a pack of gun-toting criminals. This is-

The one who took point reaches up, pulling his mask down to reveal a particularly squished nose set below deep set eyes.

"Boss?" He says, and Jason abruptly realizes what the hell this is.

"Oh hell," Jason says. "Stand down, Jericho."

He reaches up, popping his helmet off, and he's pretty sure that if Bruce is watching his eyes have just popped right out of his head.

The guy with his mask off splits into a wide grin, and rapidly the other three men pull off their own masks, revealing an array of familiar faces.

Four of his ten militia commanders, standing smack dab in the center of Gotham.

"I fucking knew it," Doyle says from behind French. "I told you he was Raptor."

"Oh cram it," Cho says. "You only win the bet if he's Raptor and wasn't Batman at any point."

"He was absolutely fucking Batman," French says. All of them have their guns already pointed down, and they're starting to holster them automatically, the tension gone.

"Boss," Alvarez says, "tell these dumbass that you were totally Batman so I can get my money."

"Raptor...?" He hears Joey say in his ear, and he holds up a finger for silence as he shifts his mask so he can speak.

"It's fine," he says. "You can stay up there or come down, but there's no danger here. I'll be off comms for a bit."

"Alright," Jason says, glancing between them. "Who bet what?"

"Doyle bet you were just Raptor and not Batman, Cho says you're Batman and the Gotham Knight, French said Batman and not Raptor, and I guessed right and said you were Batman and Raptor," Alvarez says.

"Pay the man his money," Jason says, gesturing to Alvarez.

Four wallets are produced, and a sizable amount of money is handed over.

"Really?" Jason says to Cho. "You thought I was the Gotham Knight?"

"Oh come on," he says. "Gotham Knight, Arkham Knight... it was inspired."

"Gotham Knight's got almost half a foot on me," Jason says. "I didn't have second puberty."

"God," Cho says. "You are way younger than I thought. I would have said you were like thirty."

"Good thing you didn't bet on that," Alvarez says with a wide grin, and Cho punches him in the shoulder.

Joey drops down, mask still up, and hovers a bit off the ground just behind Jason. Four sets of hands twitch for their weapons, but go still when Jason signals.

"It's fine," Jason says. "He's a friend."

"Alright," Doyle says, "now you have to tell us. Did 'Stroke really marry Wayne? Because that is the wildest shit I can possibly imagine."

None of them had seen his face when he worked with the militia, but Slade was never so wary. Between the hair, the eyepatch, and the build, Jason isn't surprised to learn they didn't believe that Deathstroke was killed in action story for a single second.

"He did," Jason says. "He's working with us."

"Fuck!" Cho says. "He's the Gotham Knight!"

Jason's pretty sure Joey's losing his mind trying to follow the conversation, but there's too much to explain. He spent a year with his commanders. Even after years apart, he still knows them as well as he knows himself. They're old friends, and it feels comfortingly familiar to fall into the banter with him.

"Stole the name from me," Jason says. "You know how he is."

"Should I know who these people are?" Joey asks in his ear.

Jason glances to him and shakes his head.

"Long story," he says. "I'll tell you when we're done patrol."

Which does remind him...

"What the hell are you guys doing here, anyway? Because if you're doing a job..." Christ, he does not want to fight his own guys, but as he says it he shifts his helmet mic to subtly listening in mode.

French immediately waves his hand.

"No no," he says. "We're not stupid. We all knew you were somewhere around here, and we weren't going to try and fight you. We're just passing through and we thought we'd try and find you."

"Bad odds," Jason says. "You might have run into one of my friends."

"Then we'd have backed off," Doyle says. "Waited till we spotted you."

"Waited till I spotted you," Jason says. "You guys still together? Where's Shook and Torres...?"

"Torres bit it," Alvarez says. "Shook and some of the others split off. At this point, it's basically just us with a new crew."

"What exactly are you doing? I know you said you weren't working in Gotham..."

"Can't say," French says. "Sorry boss, you know professional courtesy."

"Fair," Jason says, pretty sure that he needs to know whatever it is they're doing. It probably won't matter, but... well, he worked as Batman for years, and he didn't get into that position by not chasing down every lead. "Just coming to say hi, then?"

"Standing by," Cho says, which gets him a dirty look from French. "But yeah, wanted to say hi."

If they're standing by in Gotham, that means wherever they're targeting can't be far away. Metropolis or Bludhaven seem like the obvious choices, but depending on what kind of gear they have, their target might be a bit farther out.

"Well if you don't want to make trouble for me," Jason says, "be nice to the working girls and stop patrolling the damn rooftops with guns."

French snaps out a salute. "Yessir," he says, giving Jason a lopsided grin. "Now that we ran into you, not like we need to anyway."

"I can't believe you guys have been running around Gotham looking for me," Jason says. "It's enough to make a man feel popular."

"We're going to go drinking," Cho says. "You should come."

The way he says it, it's like they're old college pals, and Jason's first instinct is no this is a terrible idea. Jason's second instinct is this is a fucking great idea, because there is literally no better way to get information than that.

"He's probably got patrol," French says, and Jason plays it off as easily as he can, giving a shrug.

"Gotham's not really the wretched hive of scum and villainy it once was," Jason says. "I can take the night off. Just have to let the boss know and get some street clothes."

"Nice," Doyle says, holding out his hand for a fistbump, and Jason bumps it immediately. "Meet you at the My Alibi on Miagani?"

"See you there," he says. "In like... forty-five minutes? I've been sweating like a pig in this thing."

There's a round of laughter and they part, with Jason heading back the way he came, Joey floating just behind him, largely ignored by the group. Joey ends up having to ease the glider into a blast of hot air, but after some work he manages to catch things just right, getting back up into the air, his mask firmly in place.

"Are you fucking insane?" Barbara says over the comms, and Jason winces. "What the hell was that?"

"That was me gathering intel," Jason says.

"Jason," she says, breaking protocol so thoroughly that it really impresses upon Jason just how big a deal this is to her, "we have two assassin's after you and you thinking about going out drinking with... what, mercenaries?"

"I am not thinking about going out drinking, Oracle. I am going out drinking."

"I'm going with him," Slade says. "We'll talk when you get back. Jericho still with you?"

"I'm here," Joey confirms. "I'm just wondering what exactly it is I just witnessed."

"You aren't the only one," Bruce says with a grunt.

Chapter 27

Bruce is not happy when they get back to the cave, but Slade looks amused.

"Slade already explained," Bruce says immediately. "But this is an extremely risky move."

"It's the only move," Jason points out. "We're not going to get a chance like this again. We're not going to have a situation where we can get someone who knows what's going on drunk."

"We don't even know if something is going on," Bruce says. "For all we know this could be nothing."

"Nothing that puts a bunch of mercenaries in Gotham, waiting for marching orders?" Slade says. "Let's not kid ourselves."

Who were they? Joey signs, his mask pulled down to show his face.

"My old militia," Jason says. "Before I rejoined the family, I was training them up to take over Gotham. The plan got cancelled before we could carry it out, but that doesn't change the fact that I spent a good year helping get them ready."

Joey reacts appropriately to that sort of out-of-nowhere announcement, his mouth dropping open.

"They're loyal to him," Slade says, obviously attempting to make it slightly less of a punch to the gut. "Not as much to me, but certainly to Jason. I don't think they're any danger, but I'll be going with."

Bruce rubs at the bridge of his nose.

"This is painfully close to revealing all of our identities to a bunch of people we barely know-"

"A bunch of people you barely know," Jason says. "I know them pretty damned well."

"Do you think they'd pass our standard policies for disclosure?" Bruce asks, and Jason goes silent because the answer is absolutely not.

"My point is," Bruce says after a moment, "that you need to be careful. I know they were your allies before, but... please just be careful."

"I'll take care of him," Slade says, leaning over to press a kiss to Bruce's cheek. "See if you can help Wintergreen dig up some more info on Cain while we're gone."

I think I'm going to talk to Wintergreen, Joey signs, and Jason gives him a nod before heading into the bathroom to change. He's only got what he was wearing all day, so he has to head upstairs, digging through his closet for something unassuming and nondescript that isn't going to stick out in a bar.

Which isn't exactly great, because he has no idea what is or isn't going to stick out at My Alibi. By the time Slade sticks his head in, Jason's been at it for ten minutes already, and Slade huffs, grabs a shirt and a pair of pants, and shoves Jason towards his bathroom.

Slade, of course, is already ready to go. Jason's pretty sure Slade's been there before, but Jason's never been into My Alibi without having the batsuit on.

"So here's the rules," Slade says as he adjusts Jason's shirt. "You're drinking, but take tiny sips and leave all that to me. Let yourself feign drunkness. Don't push too hard. Just keep them friendly and be happy with that. Don't mention anyone unless they mention them first, since we don't know how much they know."

"They already know a bunch," Jason clarifies. "Told them I was Batman."

"Bruce'll give you shit for that, but I'm not going to. You didn't pick your commanders because they were stupid."

They take Slade's car, and Slade makes a point of wearing his proper eyepatch rather than hiding it behind dark glasses. It makes him look a bit more like his dark self as they head inside.

The nightclub's definitely not what it once was, mostly hosting wannabes rather than actual criminals. It makes for a bit better cover, and Jason picks the guys out easily, spotting Doyle by the bar and the others in a booth.

They seem genuinely excited to see Slade, and there's a round of clapping each other on the back as Jason and Slade slide into the booth with them.

Jason's not entirely sure what Slade's plan is until the drinks start flowing, but he does as he was told, taking little sips rather than big gulps. Slade makes the unusual decision of drinking with his left hand, and what he does is so subtle that Jason doesn't even realize until almost a half hour in despite the fact that he's looking for it.

Slade's set his glass just beside Jason's, and every time he gets a drink he grabs the rightmost of their two cups, bringing it up for a big gulp. The trick is on the way down: Slade always puts the glass he's drinking from to the left of Jason's drink, meaning he's rotating which glass he's drinking out of, and drinking for Jason and him.

Not that it affects him at all. His regeneration burns through alcohol like it's nothing, and by the end of the night he's only feigning tipsy.

Even with a mission in mind, Jason finds he enjoys the conversation. He was a different person when he last spent time with them, much more closed off, and they seem to react the way he hoped. Before he was their leader, and now they treat him like one of them, even if they seem to keep Slade in roughly the same social position he once occupied. Slade is less friendly, letting Jason take the lead on that.

He learns that Doyle's girlfriend dumped him (not surprising) and that French has a daughter now (very surprising). Cho's sworn off women entirely, and Alvarez is talking about retiring.

"You should retire," Jason says, ever so slightly tipsy and playing it off like he's much worse than he is. "Being retired is great. No one's trying to kill you."

"Don't give us that shit," Doyle says. "We all know you're not retired."

"I'm retired from trying to conquer Gotham," Jason says, pouting just to sell it.

"By that metric we're all retired," French says. "We're not in the conquering game."

"Bodyguarding?" Jason guesses, and Cho waves him off.

"Nothing that boring," he says. "We've been doing convoy security. Less likely to have someone jumping you."

"Depends on what you're transporting," Slade says. "Someone nearly took my arm right off on a convoy job. Learned not to take those unless I knew how bad it was going to be."

"Oh please," Doyle says. "That isn't even believable."

"It's true," Slade says. "Lady Shiva's damned deadly when she wants to be."

"Shiva!" Alvarez says. "She's nice looking. Haven't heard from her in a while."

"That's because the League's dead," French says. "She went underground after that."

"Probably dead," Cho says. "All wiped out."

"She's not dead," Alvarez says. "She took out Deadshot."

"Deadshot retired," Slade says. "He's not dead."

"Lady Shiva killed him!" Alvarez protests.

"He's not dead," Slade says, rolling his eye. "I had breakfast with him two months ago."

"Is that where you went?" Jason asks.

"That's what happens when you're the boss," Doyle says with all the mock sadness he can muster. "You get to go out on lunch dates with all the other assassins."

"He's a one man kinda guy," Cho says, elbowing Doyle in the side, and French leans in, voice dropping low.

"Alright," he says. "We all know you weren't Batman. We all know he-" He gestures to Jason as everyone else leans in. "-was the second Bat. But Wayne's the first, isn't he? It makes sense."

"Did you bet on it?" Slade asks, grabbing his glass to take a drink.

"Hell no," Cho says. "No one would bet against it. It makes sense. He's on the Justice League because he's the original Batman. There's no way all those goody two-shoes on the League would be willing to play along with a corporate bigwig, even if he was bankrolling Batman."

"Don't know why you think they're all so nice," Alvarez says. "The only one who's all about truth and justice and all that is big blue."

There's a shiver around the table at the mention of Clark.

"That guy is scary," Doyle says. "Makes me think Alvarez has the right idea about retiring."

"Superman's a sweetheart," Jason says. "Assuming you're not threatening Metropolis, anyway."

There's some nervous exchanging of glances that tells Jason he's hit the jackpot. He just has to be careful... and not look overly interested.

Slade takes an entirely different tack.

"Oh hell," he says. "Please don't tell me your dumbasses are screwing around in his territory. I don't want to have to wipe you off the pavement."

"No!" Doyle says, and French rolls his eyes.

"We're not idiots," he says. "It's in our contracts we're not dealing with him, the Bats, or anything like that. They show up, we're entirely within our rights to surrender than and there."

"Oh good," Jason says. "Means this won't be the last time I see you alive."

"Stop screwing around," French says. "You're freaking them out."

They do look fairly freaked out, but Jason doesn't have a ton of sympathy. What he does have is a lot of information, but more is always better.

"Not screwing around," Jason says. "Superman's a nice guy, and he tries not to kill, but if someone threatens his home or his family, they'll get splattered. Sparred with him once and he kicked my ass without even putting any effort in."

Everyone put French goes a little bit paler, all but confirming that they're heading to Metropolis.

"He's not going to be there," French says, more to the others than to Jason or Slade. "That's the whole deal. If he's there, the contract's broken and we're fine to get the fuck out of there."

"You guys are idiots if you're going anywhere near Metropolis," Slade says. "This job better be paying you retirement money for this shit."

"You should see the paycheck," Alvarez says. "The new boss has deep pockets, and they're paying us pretty damn well for screwing around in big blue's territory."

"You should be retiring," Jason says. "Christ, you're all old as hell. You were old when I hired you."

"We're not that old," Doyle protests. "Cho's like forty-two."

"Old enough to get out of the business," Slade says. "Times are changing, and there's no place for guys like us anymore. The League, all these metahumans... Normal humans can't compete."

He sounds almost wistful when he says it, and Jason's face pinches with concern, ignoring the fact that Slade is far from a normal human.

He's always wondered if Slade missed it, but he never asked. Never wanted to ask, because there are unhappy implications if Slade says yes that he's not sure he wants to deal with.

Slade catches him looking and grunts. "Drank too much," he mutters, and then leans over, ruffling Jason's hair. "You were worth giving it up for, so don't doubt that for a second, alright? Wouldn't make any decisions other than the ones I made."

"Aww," Cho says, right as Doyle rolls his eyes.

"They're so mushy," he says. "Who knew the Arkham Knight had a soft side?"

"I did," French says. "Figured anyone who'd get so agitated probably was feeling things pretty intensely. Boss used to get so worked up over Batman, figured it was really personal."

Jason grumbles to himself, and Slade leans over, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. His face burns with embarrassment, and he swats Slade away.

Doyle looks like he's turning green, averting his eyes. French, on the other hand, put on a brave face.

"Alright," he says. "I'm just going to ask. You guys are like..."

Oh christ.

"He's my dad," Jason blurts out, secret identities be damned. "We're not screwing around."

"Oh thank god," Doyle says. "Christ, it wasn't just me thinking it, right?"

"Guilty," Alvarez says. "Kinda thought the two of you and Wayne had some weird shit going on."

Jason gags.

"No!" He protests. "God, no. They're my dads."

French elbows him in the side, looking pretty damn amused by how flustered Jason is. Jason can't even blame it on the alcohol—it's really just the implications.

"Our boy here's probably got a girl waiting at home," he says. "Busty blond?"

"We are not having this conversation," Jason says, which is a mistake, because it's like blood in the water.

"Probably likes tall girls," Doyle says.

"I'm betting on redheads," Cho adds.

Jason considers attempting to duck under the table and flee.

"Be gentle with him," Slade says, grabbing the back of Jason's shirt to keep him from physically escaping. "He's fragile."

"I am going to break your arm," Jason mutters under his breath. "Let me go."

"Ohhh," Cho says abruptly, as if he's had some great big epiphany, and Jason knows he absolutely one hundred percent does not want to hear whatever the hell it is Cho is about to say. "You like guys!"

Jason was right. He didn't want to hear what Cho had to say.

"Let me die," Jason mumbles to himself, and French makes an attempt to wave them off.

"In memory of Morgan," he says. "Lets not harass him too much."

"In memory?" Doyle says. "Morgan's not dead!"

"Yeah," French says, "but his wife walked in on him going down on another dude, so he might as well have been."

"She tried to stab him in the dick," Alvarez says, with the demeanor of someone announcing a death in the family.

Slade can't take it anymore: he cracks up, tipping his head back and just howling with laughter.

It lets Jason relax a little bit, and takes the focus off him. Jason's not even sure if Slade did it intentionally or not, but it's exactly what they needed.

They wrap up the night not too long later, swearing to stay in touch. Slade gets their information, and extracts a promise to stay out of trouble from them before they finally hop in the car to head back to the manor.

"So," Slade says once they're in the car. "Metropolis."

Jason, at least for the moment, has other things on his mind.

Chapter 28

Jason's both exhausted and buzzed by the time they get back to the manor. Damian's asleep, so they just grab Bruce, heading down to the cave for a quick meeting.

"Metropolis," Slade says before Bruce can ask. "They're currently here waiting for marching orders for Metropolis."

"They're going to fight Clark?" Bruce asks, looking mystified by the very idea.

"No," Jason says, "they're not. They're going to handling convoy security either into or out of Metropolis, but they're going to be doing it while Clark is away. Something is going to keep him from going after them, and I don't like it."

"More importantly," Slade says, "we know who's behind it."

Jason's head swings around.

"What?" He says. "We do?"

"Oh come on," Slade says. "Someone with a heavy interest in Metropolis who has pockets deep enough to pay a gang of experienced mercenaries to fuck around in Clark's territory?"

"Luthor?" Bruce says, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Did they confirm that?"

"Just implied," Slade says. "Enough to give Clark some notice, but not enough to actually do anything about."

"I'll handle that," Bruce says. "I'll make sure Clark knows what we know, so he can keep an eye out."

"He should probably stick around Metropolis," Slade says. "I doubt they've got enough information on him to know his schedule, but I think we should be the ones handling Jon's art classes in the meanwhile."

"Get anything else?" Bruce asks, and Slade's eyes flick over to Jason before grinning.

"That Jason gets easily flustered by teasing?"

"Dad!" Jason protests, swatting Slade's arm. "He doesn't need to know about that stuff. This is business."

"Business is over," Slade says.  "Now we're talking about how you spent half the time dying of embarrassment."

Jason slinks off to his room before Slade can torment him further.

He wakes to someone knocking at his door the following morning. He isn't hungover (a fact he is deeply thankful for), but he also doesn't really want to deal with whatever it is.

"Yeah?" He calls, and Bruce cracks the door open, peeking inside.

Jason tells him to come in, but he buries his face in his pillow first, so all Bruce can possibly here is hnngngn.

Bruce comes in anyway, sitting on the edge of Jason's bed, and Jason feels his hand settle on Jason's shoulder ever so lightly.

"Your dad thought I should come talk to you about some of last night."

Jason can take a guess at just what it is Slade would want Bruce to talk to him about. Slade's too goddamn aware for his own good.

"What if I don't want to talk?"

"Unfortunately for you, part of fatherhood is overruling your kids when they're being thickheaded, and you are, so here I am," Bruce says.

Jason rolls over, sitting up properly to look at Bruce. It's bad enough having to have the conversation in his pajamas: he's not having it while facedown in his bed.

"Don't think there's much of a conversation to be had," Jason says. "It's a non-issue."

It's a conversation they already had years ago, and to Jason, it doesn't feel like anything has changed. The conversation doesn't need revisiting. He doesn't need to go over the whole thing again.

"Your dad and I just want to make sure that you know we... don't care what your preference is."

Jason gives Bruce his very best are-you-stupid look.

"Bruce," he says. "I have two fathers who are married. Do you really think I'm worried you might be upset that I'm interested in men?"

"I'd just prefer to rule it out," Bruce says. "Make sure that it's... not any outside influences."

"It's ruled out," Jason says.

Bruce gives him a long, hard look, and Jason can tell he's debating with himself as to whether or not he wants to say something.

"Just say it," Jason says.

"I was wondering if you had spoken to your therapist about this."

"About what?" Jason says, squinting at him.

"About your..."

He can tell Bruce is struggling with it. Trying to find a nice way to say what he means. But there's no nice way to say it.

"It's not a therapy problem," Jason says. "It's a... plastic surgery problem. And at this point, there's no amount of plastic surgery that's going to fix it."

Bruce looks pained.

"I know your scarring is worse than most, Jason. But it shouldn't be a barrier for you. You'll find someone who loves you with your scars, not despite them."

"My scars aren't like yours," Jason says. He doesn't want to talk about it. Not really. But Bruce opened the door, and he can't just slam it in his face. "They're not... appealing scars."

He knows not everyone hates scars. He knows a lot of people even like scars. Bruce's scars are like that. Little cuts. Slashes. The occasional gunshot wound. His scars tell stories of his years working as Batman.

Jason's scars are uglier. They tell stories he doesn't want to speak about.

Bruce pulls him into a hug, and Jason lets him, offering no resistance as Bruce holds him.

"I know it's hard," Bruce says, "and I know you don't want to. But please... please bring this up with your therapist. It's something you should talk to a professional about."

Jason doesn't want to, but there's no harm in saying he will. Even if he changes his mind, it's not as if he has to tell Bruce about that, so he nods against him, feeling Bruce relax before he finally pulls back.

"Sorry to... to jump you first thing in the morning," Bruce says. "I just thought it would be better to get it out of the way, and I need to head into work this morning."

"Alone?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow, and Bruce shakes his head.

"Slade's coming with me," he says. "Can you keep an eye on things here?"

Jason knows he means keep an eye on Thomas, but after a moment realizes he probably also means keep an eye on Wintergreen.

It's a tall order, but he nods anyway.

"I'll make sure they don't get up to anything."

Despite being worried about keeping an eye on three newcomers to the house and Damian, Jason doesn't find it's actually that hard. Alfred and Wintergreen seem to be getting along amazingly, and Thomas has mostly been keeping to himself.

He ends up finding Joey and Damian out back, surrounded by art supplies, and Jason ducks back inside, leaving them to it.

Worrying about Joey stealing Slade away was silly. Worrying about Joey stealing Damian away feels a lot more plausible.

Jason decides to make an attempt to speak with Thomas. He's the least integrated of all of them, and even Wintergreen—who arrived the night before—seems to be adjusting better.

Once he's made the decision, it's easy enough to find Thomas retired in the library, settled into the old armchair and reading a book. He's squinting, and probably needs reading glasses, and Jason makes a note to let Bruce know later.

"Thomas?" He says, and Thomas doesn't look up, grunting instead.

Jason takes that as all the acknowledgement he's going to get and comes inside. Thomas doesn't seem interested in a conversation—he's intent on his book—so Jason simply selects a book for himself, settles into another chair, and gets down to reading.

It's almost thirty minutes later when Thomas grunts, snapping his book closed, and then looks up at him.

"Are you still here?" He says, looking twice as grumpy as Bruce always used to be.

"It's my library," Jason says. "So yes. Did you want to talk?"

Thomas very clearly does not want to talk, and Jason feels like it's some kind of weird version of karma that he's now forcing him to do exactly that.

"Thought it might be nice to... check in with you," Jason says. "Joey's pretty open about how he's feeling, but I'm not sure you've talked with anyone about this stuff."

"I'm fine," Thomas says. "I have no complaints. Things here are... peaceful."

He says peaceful like it's a bad word.

"I thought we could get to know each other a bit better," Jason offers. "Like... what did you do with your time?"

The simple fact is that he knows almost nothing about Thomas. He knows, in very general terms, who he was before his death in this world. He knows nothing about the man in front of him, the man who now lives with them.

"I worked," he says. "And I tried to keep Gotham from sliding directly to hell."

"What did you do? For work, I mean."

It's better than the single syllables he's been getting from him, so Jason does what he can to keep the conversation going, even if it's one sided.

"I ran a chain of hotels, a casino," he says, "and Wayne Security."

"Casinos and hotels are kind of self explanatory," he says, even if he's having a hard time imagining the straight laced man in front of him being associated with a casino. "What was Wayne Security?"

"Privatized police force," he says. "Gotham didn't have one anymore, so I had to team up with what remained of the old one and start my own."

"I'm sorry," Jason says. "Gotham didn't have a police force?"

"The government largely wrote us off," Thomas says, and the conversation seems to come a little bit easier. "They had other things to worry about, like preparing for an invasion. So rather than waste money, they cut funding to the top five neediest cities."

"And Gotham was high?"

"We went down to bare minimum. Police officers walked out, and only a few remained on the job. I teamed up with the commissioner, privatized it, and used the casinos to fund it. Technically speaking Gotham still had an actual police force, but it had less than a hundred employees and didn't do a thing. Gotham residents knew the right number to call if they needed help."

"Which meant Batman and the police were one and the same," Jason says.

"I kept them seperate, but yes, for the most part. Gordon-"

"James Gordon?"

"Who the hell do you think I meant when I said I teamed up with the commissioner? You think I'd have teamed up with Loeb?"

"I didn't even know Loeb existed," Jason says. "Things are weird, remember?"

"Things were mostly the same," Thomas says. "Just far worse."

"Wait," Jason says. "This is why you asked me if I owned a casino?"

"The other Jason owned a casino," Thomas says. "I thought you might as well."

"The other Jason owned a casino!?" He says, trying to wrap his head around that. "Please tell me it wasn't the Iceberg Lounge."

"Then I won't tell you," Thomas says. "But it's true."

Jason leans back in his chair, slouching for a moment as he thinks it through. He doesn't really get it— because how the hell did he end up in charge?—but he figures it probably doesn't really matter all that much anyway.

Really, he thinks they've probably gone a little bit off point, so Jason makes an attempt to steer it back.

"Okay, so," he says, "obviously you're not going to run a police force here. What did you do when you weren't working?"

Thomas gives him an are you serious look.

"I was Batman."

"When you weren't working or being Batman."

"Training."

"God," Jason says, "you're worse than Bruce was."

"Hnnn," Thomas says. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Wasn't really," Jason says. "Bruce used to work himself to death too before we got him to ease back. His health has improved since then. So has his demeanor."

Thomas grunts.

"So I figure," Jason says, "we just need to find you something else to do. A hobby, or... a social club or something. Something to take up your time."

"I should go back to my work," Thomas says. "This city is better than mine was, but there's still criminals here. Some of them still walk the streets-"

"Uh," Jason says, "no. Absolutely not. You came here to settle down, remember? And if Bruce isn't alright with you having a gun in the house, he's sure as hell not going to be alright with you grabbing a gun and going out to kill criminals. Do you really think you could deal with criminals without seriously injuring them?"

Thomas's face makes the no very clear, but Jason pointing out the very simple logic of things isn't enough to actually stop him. Thomas scowls at him and forges right on ahead.

"You'll never make Gotham safe if you're soft on them," Thomas says. "One of your own people was almost killed by assassins-"

"Wintergreen isn't even from Gotham!" Jason protests. "Gotham's one of the safest cities of its size in the whole damn country, and every day we lighten our patrols because we aren't needed anymore. The last thing the city needs is a Batman with a gun kicking doors in and murdering people!"

"What this city needs is a firm hand! If you just leave it on its own it's going to fall apart!"

"You haven't even been in this city for a week!" Jason yells. He's not sure when it became a civil conversation and became an actual argument, but it's definitely an argument right then. He's yelling. Thomas is yelling. He figures they've got maybe a minute tops before Alfred kicks the door in to put a stop to it.

"All cities are the same, and if you can't recognize that it's because you haven't seen enough of them," Thomas says, his voice dropping to a growl. "In the end, they always fall apart. No matter how much effort you put into picking them back up-"

"Excuse me," Alfred says, loudly enough to interrupt Thomas and draw both of their attention. "But Thomas's IDs have just arrived."

Thomas doesn't look back at him, just heads straight to where Alfred is holding the envelope, snatching it from his hand and brushing past him. Alfred simply gets out of the way, allowing him to go, and then turns back to Jason.

"...Is everything alright?"

The lack of Master Jason at the end of the sentence makes it feel so much more personal, and Jason makes himself take a deep breath, reaching up to drag his fingers through his hair.

"Fine," he says. "He's just... hard to deal with."

"He is a man who never came back from his war," Wintergreen says, and Jason tries not to jump as Wintergreen appears just behind Alfred. "I apologize, but it was hard not to overhear with how loud you two got."

"It's fine," Jason says, shaking off the concern. "I should probably check on him."

"Better not to, I think," he says. "I suspect he's gone out back, as has become his habit."

"Out back?" Jason says.

"Yes," Alfred says. "He has been spending a great deal of his time at the graveyard. I think it gives him time to think."

"Time to mourn," Wintergreen says. "Slade was the same way. Lashed out. Didn't talk about a damn thing. He'd die to protect you, but god only knows if he'd live for the same."

Jason goes quiet at that, trying... trying not to think about it. Trying not to think about Thomas, standing out by a graveyard that doesn't even contain his family members, but instead someone else's. There's no grave left for his Martha, no place to mourn for his Bruce.

"...I'll give him a bit," Jason says. "And then... try again."

Alfred rests a hand on his shoulder, and Jason feels himself relax just a bit.

Chapter 29

Despite what Jason tells himself, he doesn't end up going out to stand with Thomas by the grave. In the end he watches instead, keeping an eye on Thomas without actually having to speak with him.

Wintergreen has news for them at dinner.

"A contact of mine heard about my situation and gave me an interesting bit of information," Wintergreen says between bites. "I put out a request for those in my circle to let me know about anything unusual happening in Gotham, since I doubt Cain is going to make himself known so obviously."

"And?" Slade asks.

"I can't say that it's connected to Cain," Wintergreen says, "but I suspect it may be connected to your mysterious tip from Miss Ivy. Sources say that Bane's on a ship heading to Gotham."

Jason chokes on his food and takes a moment to recover. He's not the only one: almost everyone reacts with near universal shock at the very idea.

"Bane?" Bruce says, his expression dark. "You can't be serious. He hasn't shown even the slightest interest in Gotham since the day he left. Why is he coming back now?"

"When is he arriving?" Damian asks pointedly.

"Unclear," Wintergreen says. "He might be here already. If not, within the next few days. I only know that he is arriving, not why or anything like that."

Bane. Bane is going to be in Gotham.

"How reliable is your source?" Slade asks.

"Extremely," Wintergreen says. "I would bet our lives on it without hesitation."

Thomas grunts.

"I can deal with Bane if needed-" He starts, and Bruce interrupts.

"This Bane is very different from the man you dealt with," he says. "You're not going near him. Bane is, at this point, priority number one. The convoy, Ivy's tip... none of that matters as much as this."

Bane. Jason doesn't know how he feels about Bane. Really, he hasn't thought about him much at all. But the fact is that Bane is the only one of his tormentors who still walks free. If they can catch him...

"This doesn't make any sense," Slade says. "The timing is beyond suspicious."

"What exactly has Bane been doing...?" Joey asks via his phone, resting in the center of the table.

"He left years ago," Slade says. "Kicked the venom addiction, went back to Santa Prisca. He tore down Peña Dura, rooted out the drug lords, and has been waging war on the corruption that's endemic to the place. If anything, I'd say he was inspired by what he saw happening in Gotham and was trying to do the same thing there. Having him come back..."

"We need to be extra careful," Bruce says. "I'll let everyone else know after dinner."

Jason tells himself he'll talk to Thomas after dinner, but in the end he gets sidetracked by Damian, who hauls him away to show him what he and Joey have been working on. It's a painting of the manor, and even to Jason's untrained eye he can tell there are two different artists, styles and skill levels deeply at odds with one another.

Even so, it still looks good, and he makes absolutely sure that Damian knows as much.

"Joseph has been showing me how to paint," Damian says proudly. "Now if only I could convince him to come up and meet Batcow..."

Jason's already in bed that night when things go south. He wakes to Slade shaking his shoulder, and Jason's awake and alert in an instant just from the sound of Slade's quiet wake up. It sets every nerve in his body on high alert.

"What's happening?" He says as he speed-dresses.

"Tim was on patrol," he says. "Ran into Bane."

Jason feels his heard skip a beat. But no - if Tim was hurt, Slade would have led with that.

"He's fine?" He says anyway, just to be sure.

"Unharmed right now," he says. "Says Bane is being civil, but that he wants to talk to Batman."

"Which one?"

"Didn't specify."

The cave's filling up when he gets there. Thomas, Bruce, and Damian are standing by the computer, while Joey, Wintergreen, and Alfred are just arriving. It's an all-hands-on-deck sort of situation, and Jason isn't particularly surprised to see Joey heading to change as Alfred shows Wintergreen the armory. They're preparing for war, or at least for something close to it.

Jason goes right for his batsuit, and Bruce clears his throat.

"I'm going," Bruce says, and Jason's head swings around to squint at him.

"No," Jason says. "This has to be me."

"I have concerns you won't be able-"

"To be impartial?" Jason interrupts, getting his suit out anyway. "I can handle this."

"You nearly killed Julian Day," Bruce says. 

"Bruce," Jason says, his voice strained. "That was years ago, and he was torturing a child!"

He knows why Bruce doesn't want him to, but he also knows that he has to.

"Bruce," he says desperately. "You know it has to be me."

"Could several of you not go?" Wintergreen asks, arriving from the armory with a pistol, which he neatly tucks away. Jason has no idea where Alfred got it, but he's not surprised in the least to learn that Alfred has some hidden around the house for his own use.

"He said Batman only," Damian says. "He did not issue any threats, but considering who we are dealing with, and the fact that he has Tim, our options are limited."

"Could someone else use your suit?" Slade asks, turning his head to Joey, who immediately shakes his head.

Takes some getting used to, he signs. They'd need to be the same size as me.

None of them are, which rules that out entirely.

"Alright," Slade says. "Sorry, Bruce, but I'm backing Jason here. I trust he can keep himself under control, and will withdraw if needed. But he's better than you in a fight at this point, and if we only get one person, we have to choose the best person for the job. Everyone else can stand by nearby."

Bruce grunts and goes to get his own suit.

Jason's sure there's an argument between Thomas and Bruce, but he misses it entirely during the time he suits up. When he returns, Thomas is dressed in his own batsuit, guns on his thighs, ready to go.

Jason suspects the argument entirely boiled down to you are the last resort, don't shoot anyone unless it's life or death.

Alfred and Wintergreen switch off monitor duty, exchanging information back and forth with Barbara.

"Batgirl's standing by," she informs them as Jason hops onto his bike, heading towards the coordinates. "They were split up when Bane showed up and she kept her distance."

"Probably a smart idea," Bruce says over the comms.

"Connecting the two channels," Barbara says.

"We're on emergency protocols," Bruce says. "Codenames only. Only speak if it's important. No chatter. Can Robin hear us?"

"I think he's out of contact right now," Barbara says. "He's been communicating only infrequently."

Jason isn't surprised to find that Tim's being held at a warehouse near the docks. Whether or not Bane arrived that night or earlier, if he'd gone too far into the city they'd have heard about it.

"Approaching," Jason says. He debates going in through the windows before deciding that not startling Bane has to take priority, so he simply opts to park his bike in a nearby alleyway before heading to a door and trying it out.

It slides open easily, much to his surprise.

The warehouse is almost completely empty, just a lot of wide open space, which gives him the lay of the land almost immediately. Tim and Bane are both near the center of the room, and Tim doesn't appear to be restrained at all. He's just sort of standing around, which throws up all sorts of red flags in his head. One doesn't just stand around with Bane.

Even with everything he's said to Bruce, a part of him is expecting a reaction as he heads into the warehouse. He's expecting some kind of visceral gut-punch to seeing one of the men who hurt him. Instead, there's nothing. This Bane and that Bane feel like two different people. This one is still bulky, but more in the realm of a very large man rather than fucking gigantic.

There's no mask, and when Jason draws closer he can see that the metal tubes that once fed him venom are gone, leaving heavy scarring in their place.

He looks like a different man, but at the same time he looks a great deal more like what he once looked like, back in the oldest photos Bruce has on record for him.

"Batman," Bane says, tipping his head in acknowledgement. Tim spins around, and Jason can see him bracing himself to figure out which one it is. There are slight differences in the suit, and while a casual observer wouldn't be able to tell them apart, Tim certainly can.

Bane's eyes slide over towards Tim, and he nods.

"You may go," he says. "I will speak to the Bat alone."

"No offense," Tim says, "but I'd rather say."

"There are things I must say to the Bat, and the Bat alone."

Tim hesitates, and Jason turns his head, dropping his voice down to more closely match the one Bruce always used.

"Go," he says. "I can handle things here."

Tim hesitates, and then heads for the door. He knows everyone else will be lingering nearby, waiting for his word. Waiting for the sounds of a fight, or violence, or a cry for help. But Bane makes no move towards him even when Tim is gone, his gaze intense as he scrutinizes Jason.

"...You are not the Bat I know," he says. "But I must assume you have his trust."

Jason's not all that surprised Bane could tell the difference. He's fought Bruce one on one before, and even if Jason's suit is built to hide it, he's still two inches shorter than Bruce.

"Yes," Jason says. He has no intention of trying to pretend to be someone he's not.

"Then I must ask you to pass on a message," he says.

Jason's having a hard time reading Bane. He's still Bane, still the same man he remembers, but his demeanor is... different. He seems more in control. More precise. The Bane he knew before was the one who could punch a hole in a wall. This is more like the Bane who can catch a fly from the air.

"I left Gotham seeking a better life," Bane says. "I had allowed my addictions to control me. Venom went from a means to an end to the only thing that mattered, and in the end it cost me my closest allies. When I left, I sought to destroy all the remaining venom and regain control of my life, but as I killed the drug lords of my home, I came to understand there was a greater purpose there. In my childhood I was haunted by nightmares of a great black monster, a bat who ruled by fear. As I saw the sorry state of my home, I understood that I had misunderstood those dreams. I was not to be afraid of the bat, but instead to become it."

The first part is something Jason already knew. The second? Entirely new to him. He's not entirely sure where Bane's going with his story, so he keeps his mouth shut, listening instead.

"I looked to Gotham and it's success as I shaped my plans. The bat used fear to control his enemies, and so too did I. But Batman also sought allies in his fight against the scum that plagued his home. I learned from him. I sought allies of my own. Police and officials who were not corrupt, and who could be trusted. I rooted out the corruption. I made those walking the line of corruption flee in terror. I tore Peña Dura down, stone by stone, to show that it would not stand."

It's not quite the I've seen the error of my ways Jason might have hoped for, but it's better than he expected. It's doing bad things for a good cause, rather than doing bad things for Bane's own selfish ends. There's no question that Santa Prisca was worse off than Gotham, and he can't even put any blame on Bane for choosing more extreme methods than Bruce would have approved of.

"And Santa Prisca is better for it," Jason says. "It's recovering. But what does that have to do with Gotham?"

Bane tilts his head, and Jason gets the intense feeling of being scrutinized. Of being judged.

"I have two messages for the first Bat," he says. "The one who, intentionally or not, freed me from my addiction within the walls of Arkham City. The first is this: someone approached me, asking me to return to Gotham to settle my score with the Bat and his men."

Jason keeps his expression blank. Another one. Ivy and Bane. There's no coincidence there: someone is bringing together their old enemies.

"I declined," Bane says. "I said that I had no quarrel with the Bat, or with his men. The man went on his way, but I have no doubt that I was not the only one approached. I do not know what they were after, but I know that you can expect them to act soon. They approached me a second time less than a week ago. This time, they sought to pay me for my services. To have me bring my forces against the Bat."

Jason narrows his eyes at that, and Bane immediately shakes his head.

"They wished for me to be bait," he says. "They did not say as much, but that was the truth of it. They sought to use my men as sacrifices for reasons unknown. My men's lives have value, and I would not sacrifice them, so I declined, and they left frustrated by my refusal. They will be short on time, now."

There's no actual way to confirm it, but Jason's fairly sure that the three pieces just snapped neatly together. Ivy, approached a few weeks ago. Bane, approached around the same time, and then again only a few days ago. The timetable moving up. Someone wanting a distraction.

And a convoy, either going into or coming out of Metropolis, who were counting on Clark not being there.

Someone's trying to find appropriate bait to get Clark away, and they're in a hurry.

"I'll let him know," Jason says. "You said you had a second message?"

"I do," Bane says. "Although I would prefer if I could speak to the Bat directly, you will have to do."

Jason hesitates for just a moment. Bane has given them a lot of good information, and every bit of information they've gathered says that he's not the man he was.

And a part of him—a big part of him—wants it to be true. He wants Bane to be a changed man, because that means the monster he met in the bowels of Arkham no longer exists.

"I can call him," he says. "If you'd like. He'll be nearby."

Bane takes a moment, obviously considering, and then nods.

Jason wants to believe that Bane's changed, but he's not taking chances either. He keeps his eyes on Bane as he hops onto comms, letting Bruce know what they just learned before explaining the situation. He isn't surprised when Bruce says to wait, and he turns his attention back to Bane.

"He's on his way."

The wait takes only a minute or two, and then Bruce appears in the doorway, dressed in his old suit. The two Batmen of Gotham are almost never seen together, and Jason suspects that half the city would go crazy if someone snapped a picture of the two of them side by side. That's not even counting the third Batman who's still somewhere outside, no doubt being watched closely by Slade and Damian.

"Batman," Bane says, tipping his head to Bruce. "The original."

"You wanted me," Bruce says, "and here I am."

"I did," Bane says. "I have a message for you. One that I wish I did not have to share. Once it is done, you may do as you please to me. If that means arresting me, then I will surrender. If that means killing me, then I will lay down my life."

Jason's eyebrows shoot up behind his mask, and he's sure Bruce's are doing the same thing. The whole thing seems... Jason wants to say unnecessarily dramatic, only he has no idea what the thing actually is, and it's hard to say if it's actually unnecessary or not without hearing it first.

"Alright," Bruce says simply, and Jason can see him stiffen, bracing himself for the worst.

"When I called Gotham my home," he says, "I was at one point imprisoned in Arkham Asylum."

Jason's pretty sure he stops breathing as the realization hits him.

"Years and years ago," Bane says, "before the Joker was killed, I was invited down into the depths of Arkham to participate in something I should not have. I will make no excuses, for I have none. I was angry, and eager to lash out, even against someone who had done me no harm. So when the Joker gave me the chance to harm something that mattered to you, I took it."

Bruce is perfectly still, expression blank. Jason can't begin to guess at what he's thinking, even if he's sure Bruce must also realize what is happening.

"The Joker did not kill your protege," Bane says. "He captured him and hid him in the bowels of Arkham Asylum, deep beneath the surface. He tortured him there, and allowed others to do the same. Of all the things I have done in my life, allowing this to happen was the worst. I allowed a child to be tortured. If I had spoken—if I had told you what was happening when you visited the Asylum—the boy would have lived."

It's the last thing Jason expected to hear. Bane looks genuinely remorseful, and the pain of it is written on his features. It's been more than ten years since he laid a finger on Jason, and yet the regret is written all over his face.

Bruce still doesn't move. Jason's not sure he can move either. He's frozen in place, and it seems to take forever before his brain reminds him that yes, Bane is still there, and yes, he still needs to do something.

"He didn't die," he blurts, which is probably going to earn him a lecture from Bruce later, but it's the only thing he can think of. The only thing he could say. Bane's head snaps around, eyes narrowing as he stares at Jason.

"...Truly?" He says. "I had thought..."

He trails off, what he thought painfully obvious.

"No," Bruce says after a moment. "He escaped on his own, and eventually he found his way back to me." Bruce glances over to Jason, and even through the cowl Jason can tell what he's trying to convey. Jason has the lead. It's up to him what he wants to say.

Bane, on the other hand, seems lost in thought, struggling to reconcile what he's just learned. Jason can imagine why he thought that the boy had died. It is, after all, the most obvious conclusion by a mile. Finding out that he didn't has challenged his own perceptions of what happened.

Jason clears his throat and reaches up, pulling the cowl off.

It's a stupid move. He's giving up his identity not just to someone who isn't an ally, but to one of the people who once hurt him.

But Bane had no need to come to Gotham. He could have spent the rest of his life never stepping foot in Gotham, and never facing consequences for what happened. He'd come to Gotham anyway, putting his life on the line to a man he'd once fought, all because of guilt.

Jason can't hold it against him, even if he was silent. Even if he could have told someone.

Bane stares at him, and Jason suspects it's more the gesture that lets recognition set in. He's older by a decade, and the brand's long since removed. He looks different, and yet Bane recognizes him anyway, murmuring something in Spanish Jason doesn't catch.

"Apology accepted," Jason says. He's not sure what else there is to say. They aren't friends. They aren't even allies. But Bane has made an effort no one else has, and Jason feels a desperate need to recognize that.

"I am... at a loss for words," Bane says. "To think you survived..."

For the first time since Jason's seen him, Bane cracks a smile.

"Perhaps I should not be so surprised," he says. "You were strong, even as a boy." He claps Jason on the shoulder, and the sheer size of him makes Jason wobble in place.

"You should go back to Santa Prisca," Jason says. "Even if I won't hold it against you, Gotham certainly will."

Bane nods, dropping his hand.

"I had only planned to stay as long as I needed to locate the Bat," he says. "Two nights is not so bad. I will return home... but it is good to know that you still walk the earth."

There is something truly surreal about seeing Bane off. He has a ship of his own, already ready to go, and he makes no attempt to drag his feat as he leaves. Jason watches him go, his cowl pulled up once again, and says nothing.

In the end, there's nothing to say.

Chapter 30

They head to a nearby roof and find it absolutely packed with people. The people they've brought are there—Damian and Slade and Joey and Thomas—but so is everyone else. Tim and Steph aren't surprising to see, but he is surprised to see Michael there as well, back in his Azrael costume and trying not to gawk too blatantly at Thomas.

"Everything alright?" Slade asks immediately, and Jason wonders how much of his self control it took to not kick the door in and spirit Jason away from the situation.

"Fine," Bruce says. "Although I think Jason might need a refresher lesson on keeping his cowl on."

Jason winces, because... well, yes. He's been particularly blatant about his identity as of late.

"Only my Batman identity," he says. "They don't have any idea Raptor is connected-"

"I was kidding, Jason," Bruce says, giving him a smile that looks out of place beneath the cowl of his Batsuit. "I think you did the right thing, and I don't think we need to worry about him spreading it around."

"Hold on," Tim says. "You told Bane who you were?"

"He came to apologize," Jason says. "Laid down his life and all that."

"Apologize for what?" Thomas says, and Jason realizes that... well, he doesn't know. Joey doesn't know. For that matter he's not even entirely sure Steph knows the details. She joined the family after the fact, and while he's sure she's heard bits and pieces, she didn't know the real story.

Jason's never talked about it. He's never wanted to. And it's obvious that Slade's thinking the same thing, because he gives Jason a quick glance before turning back to the group, mouth opening to offer some kind of terse, to-the-point non-explanation.

"Years ago I was captured by the Joker," he says. It feels like the first time he's said the words The Joker out loud in years. "It wasn't nice. It was... awful. Part of that was that he let other people who were in Arkham join in when he tormented me, and Bane was one of those people. Bane was never as bad as Harley or- or the Joker, but he was there. He didn't help. He came back to give the information you guys have now, but he also came back to tell Batman what had happened."

"He said I could arrest him or kill him if I wanted," Bruce says.

"And you let him go?" Thomas says. He's the most outspoken, but he's not the only one with obvious doubts about the course of action. Damian and Slade have matching looks of disbelief.

"It was my decision," Jason says. He's not sure Bruce would have let him go otherwise, but Bruce also didn't argue when he made his choice. "He's doing what he can to help his home, and he's basing his behavior off what we do here. He's becoming a better person. And he... he apologized."

"An apology doesn't undo what he did," Thomas says. "It doesn't make things better-"

"That's Jason's decision," Tim says. "He's the one who gets to decide if it's better or not."

Thomas grunts under his breath and goes quiet.

Are you alright? Joey signs.

Jason's not sure. He feels worn out, but at the same time... it feels more like he's physically worn out. In other ways, he feels better than ever.

"Yeah," Jason finally says. "This is... I guess it's a big deal? That he'd come all this way. It just... feels... good I guess?" He's having a hard time putting his emotions into words, and he's increasingly aware of how many people there are. Of the fact that they're all looking at him, waiting for him to crack.

"He's not the Joker," he says, just to make himself say the name again. "He's not Harley. Bane was... nothing in the grand scheme of things."

"Hnn," Slade says. "Probably a good thing I didn't kill him back when I had the chance."

"You were going to kill him?" Damian asks, looking up at Slade in confusion.

"Of course," he says. "I made contingency plans for everyone who'd ever laid a hand on Jason. Was figuring out how to get into Arkham when I realized Jason would just end up angry at me."

The more I learn the less I understand, Joey signs, but it seems less part of the conversation and more the equivalent of muttering under his own breath.

"Okay," Steph says. "Just for a moment can we focus on the important and timely stuff? Are we going to have to deal with Bane?"

"No," Jason says. "He's going back to Santa Prisca, and I don't think he'll return to Gotham any time soon, if at all."

"If he does, it seems like he'd be closer to a sometimes ally like Ivy," Bruce says. "So no, you don't have to be concerned."

"Even more importantly," Damian says, "he's given us several important clues about what's happening."

Tim starts to flick his fingers up as he lists them off.

"Someone has hired a group of mercenaries to be part of a convoy either into or out of Metropolis," he says. "Someone—probably the same someone—has been approaching our former enemies, trying to get them to strike out at us. This person has deep pockets, and an active interest in Metropolis. While this plan was in place months ago, the timetable for that plan seems to have moved up significantly, and we should assume the plan itself is imminent."

"What changed to move the timetable up?" Slade says.

We did, Joey signs, exaggerating the gestures to catch everyone's eyes. Thomas and I are new arrivals.

"But also us," Bruce says. "It's possible they were hoping to get it over with while Slade and I were gone."

"So we don't know the what," Jason says, "and we don't know the when, beyond that it's soon. But we know a lot of other details."

"Not enough to go after Luthor," Bruce says. "But enough to get Clark to investigate more thoroughly."

"Lives are on the line," Thomas says. "We should be confronting him directly."

"Lex isn't like that," Tim says. "He's not going to crack under pressure, and anything we do is going to just lead to backlash towards the League."

"Confronting him head on is going to have nothing but negative side effects," Jason agrees. "If you want to outwit him, we need to keep quiet about how much we know. Right now, we already have one major advantage over him: we know what he's planning, and he doesn't know what we know. Clark knows that nothing less than the end of the world should get him out of Metropolis."

"Lex is smart enough to be worried about that," Steph says. "It's possible that he won't do whatever he's doing until he knows Clark is out."

"You're right," Damian says, "which is why Jon is the perfect bait. If something big happens in Gotham, Clark needs to send Jon in his costume to assist. At a distance, people will mistake him for his father."

"I'll make sure he knows," Bruce says. "All this is assuming something is even going to happen in Gotham."

"If he was willing to beg Bane and offer to pay him a big wad of cash to get him into Gotham, he's desperate. He either can't give up the plan now, or isn't willing to. One way or another, something's going to happen."

"Well," Bruce says, "not tonight, anyway. We should let Robin and Batgirl get back to their patrol, and head home ourselves."

"Are we still on doubles?" Steph says.

"Considering Cain's still out there, yes," Slade says. "Doubles until that and the convoy mess is resolved."

They seperate, heading for their vehicles. Jason finds his bike where he left it, but takes a few moments, leaning heavily on the bike, to catch himself. He feels... energized. Exhilarated. He keeps waiting for reality to punch him in the face, but it doesn't come.

He feels better than he has in a long time.

Chapter 31

Jason wakes the next morning full of energy, but he's the only one. Bruce lets them know over breakfast that he's filled the Kents in, but otherwise it's a fairly subdued morning.

I'm going to call Adeline, Joey tells them over lunch, and Jason winces. It's not ma, just Adeline, and Jason supposes that's probably a good sign, even if it makes him wary.

"Do I need to be in the room?" Slade asks.

No, Joey signs. I can handle it.

"We should go see Batcow instead," Damian says with a pointed look towards Slade.

"It hasn't even been a week."

"It doesn't have to be a week," Damian says. "We can go whenever we like. The owner of the farm said, and they're only closed on Sundays anyway."

"You should get Tim to go," Jason says. "Maybe Jackson would like to see a petting zoo."

"None of us should be going right now," Bruce says. "Even if Bane isn't an issue, there's still a lot going on, and I don't want half of us an hour outside Gotham."

"It's the day, Bruce," Slade says. "No one does anything during the day."

"Which is exactly why Luthor would absolutely do something like this during the day," Bruce says. "We should all stay nearby."

"I have a contact to meet," Wintergreen says. "They might have some information, if someone could accompany me...?"

I could go, Joey signs. No one knows me, and I can play the part of the silent bodyguard pretty well.

"What happened to calling your mother?" Wintergreen asks, and Joey goes pink.

Maybe after dinner, he signs. To make sure she's not at work.

Slade and Wintergreen make identical little hmmms of disbelief, but in the end Wintergreen does allow Joey to tag along as his designated bodyguard.

"I'm going to go to work," Jason says. "Try and make sure Michael doesn't get buried. Who's tagging along?"

"I'll go," Bruce says. "No one will be surprised to see me."

It's not until he gets back that afternoon that Jason remembers that he was supposed to be talking to Thomas. Even then, he only remembers because Alfred lets them know that Thomas is out back, and Jason now knows enough to know what that means.

Jason just wishes talking with Thomas was half as easy as talking to Joey.

But he wants to at least make an attempt, so he heads across the lawn towards the little graveyard.

Someone—probably Slade or Bruce—has filled in the hole where Thomas himself was once buried. Thomas doesn't seem to be paying it any mind, standing in front of Martha's grave in complete silence. He doesn't move even as Jason approaches, and doesn't acknowledge him at all until Jason's right beside him.

"Come to get me for dinner?" Thomas says. "Seems early."

"You've got another hour or two," he says. "Wintergreen and Joey aren't back yet. I just came out to... talk."

"To talk," Thomas says flatly. "I don't see what there is to talk about."

"The fact that you're struggling to adjust?" Jason says. He's run dry on fucks to give. Thomas isn't getting better by treating him with kid gloves, and if they want to see any improvement, Jason's pretty sure they're going to have to rub his face into the mess he's making.

"I'm adjusting fine," Thomas says, still not looking up. "I haven't shot anyone, and that's what you all wanted, isn't it?"

"But you want to," Jason says. "Changing your behavior is one thing, but you're still stuck in your old mindset."

"There's nothing wrong with my old mindset-"

"There are several things wrong with your old mindset," Jason says, trying to keep his voice nice and even. "You'd have killed Bane the moment he gave you the option."

"He helped torture you," Thomas says. "He'd have deserved it."

"I killed... a bunch of people to get revenge. I regret that, even if most of them were scum. Once someone's dead, it's over. There's no coming back for that. Bane was a reminder for me of that. That... people can change."

"You didn't make a mistake killing them," Thomas says. "Anyone who would do that to a child should be put down."

Jason rolls his eyes. It's like talking to a wall. Thomas's beliefs are firmly entrenched, and he isn't showing any interest in trying something new.

"The point of you coming here was for you to retire. To have a family again. To have people you cared about. It wasn't so you could keep up the crazy level of hypervigilance you've got, where every criminal should be taken out back and shot. Our world isn't your world, and you need to realize that."

"You think I don't?" Thomas asks, turning his head to look at Jason. His scowl is obvious, his eyebrows pressed together. "You think I don't know how much better this world is? I'd do anything to protect it. To protect you and your family. I may not be one of you, but I still want to keep this safe."

"Keep it safe by being a part of it," Jason says. "Not by keeping yourself as an outsider who refuses to join in."

"I eat with you," Thomas says. "I live with you. I do everything you ask."

"Christ," Jason says, dragging his fingers through his hair. "You're worse than Bruce. You're still keeping yourself separate from us, and you know it."

"Eventually, someone's going to have to make a hard choice," Thomas says. "And I don't think any of you will be able to make it."

"So it has to be you, is that it?" Jason asks. "You have to keep yourself separate so that when you decide someone needs to be killed and there's no one there to stop you, you can do it without anyone else getting too upset."

Thomas is silent, and Jason turns fully to face him.

"Are you even trying?" Jason asks. "Are you actually trying to fit in, or are you just biding your time, waiting for this to fall apart?"

Thomas meets his gaze, his expression hard. Jason wonders, just for a moment, when the last time he had someone care about him was. Back at home in his own world? Or not even then.

"Just try," Jason says. "Try to join in. Try to... to do things that aren't just waiting for things to go wrong."

Thomas's eyes slide away, back to the grave, and Jason knows that's a no.

"You have to try," he says. "If you don't try, nothing's going to get any better. You're going to keep feeling the same way you feel right now."

Thomas hasn't said he feels miserable, but he's standing in front of his dead wife's grave, so it's not exactly much of a stretch to guess.

"Think about Jackson," he says, and just for a second he can see Thomas soften. "If you keep doing what you're doing, then we both know you're not going to be in his life."

Thomas still says nothing, and in the end Jason turns away. He can't make him change his mind. He can't make him try. All he can do is give his best effort and hope that he's gotten through to him.

He just doesn't think he has.

Jason finds Alfred and Wintergreen standing on the back step as he nears the house, both giving him nearly identical oh dear sorts of looks.

"Didn't go well, did it?" Wintergreen says, and Jason can't help but get the impression that Wintergreen and Alfred have gone from complete strangers to the best of friends in just a few days.

"No," he says. "It didn't."

"Please don't let it get you down, Master Jason," Alfred says quietly. "You are doing your best."

"Joseph's in his room," Wintergreen says. "On a call with Adeline."

Jason gives him a quick nod, and then heads inside himself.

Chapter 32

He spends a bit of time with Damian that afternoon, sparring with him down in the cave to burn off some of his excess energy. Damian doesn't seem at all worried about the potential danger, and if anything seems genuinely excited to find out what's going on.

"Plus," he says when Jason asks him about it, "this means Jon will get to come fight with us."

Jason thinks he's probably not taking it seriously enough, but in a way that feels almost refreshing. Damian was too serious in his first few years with them, and seeing him more lighthearted feels... nice.

Wintergreen and Joey have news for them over dinner.

"A big contract," Wintergreen says, "went up two nights ago."

Slade perks up immediately.

"For who?"

"Confidential," Wintergreen says. "To be discussed with the man behind the contract."

"Can we be sure it's related?" Jason asks, and Joey nods immediately.

Contract location is Gotham, Joey signs. And the price was insanely high.

"They wanted to know if the Balkan was interested," Wintergreen says. "I told them I'd check with him."

"Who?" Bruce asks, glancing between Wintergreen and Slade.

"One of Slade's other aliases," Jason volunteers. "He used it when Deathstroke couldn't be involved for some reason."

Bruce squints at Slade and does a little grunt.

"I haven't done anything recently," Slade says. "I'm retired."

"Maybe you shouldn't be," Damian says. "If the Balkan takes the contract, we'll have information."

"But it'll mean destroying the Balkan alias," Jason says, "and potentially put Wintergreen at risk."

"Only if the Balkan doesn't complete the contract," Wintergreen says. "The fact that it isn't a simple hit means the job isn't a simple kill. There's something more to it. It's entirely possible you'll be able to complete the job without faking anyone's murder."

"Bane did say that the person was basically using him as bait," Jason says. "So it might be that the contract is just... more bait."

"The larger concern is that if you don't take it, someone else will," Thomas says. "Better the enemy you know."

"Tell them I'll take it," Slade says. "We'll play both sides."

Jason finds Joey not long after dinner. He's sitting in the living room, staring into space, and Jason clears his throat, drawing Joey's attention immediately.

"You call Adeline yet?" Jason asks, and when Joey doesn't immediately turn him away, and he ends up settling down on a seat that gives him a good view of Joey's hands.

Not yet, Joey signs. I'm just working up to it.

It's obvious Joey's nervous, and Jason can't really blame him for it. Every bit of difficulty he had with Slade is magnified a hundredfold by Adeline, and that isn't even taking into account the fact that Slade and Adeline do not get along.

"Anything I can do to help?" Jason says, fully expecting the answer to be no.

It's probably too much to ask, Joey signs, and Jason practically leaps for it, because nothing Joey might ask is too much. Joey wants help. Joey wants to try and fit in, and is trying in all the ways that Thomas isn't.

"What is it?" Jason says automatically, having already decided the answer is going to be yes.

She hasn't heard my synthetic voice yet, Joey signs. And I obviously can't sign to her. I was going to ask Slade since his voice is the closest to what I should probably have, but she'd recognize his voice.

It takes Jason a hot second to realize what Joey's really asking: to borrow his body, or at least his voice, for the phone call. It means not having to deal with his subvocal microphone, which misses out on things that aren't words. It means being a tiny bit more comfortable.

So Jason says yes, even if a part of his brain is kicking him for doing so.

"Aren't you worried I'm going to be... I don't know, listening in?" He says, and Joey immediately shakes his head.

You won't even know it happened, Joey says. Slade's a special case, I think. It's different for everyone, but most of the time it's just... nothing.

"Alright," Jason says. "Hit me."

He supposes he's more aware of it because he was bracing himself for it, but even then he doesn't even really notice. Just one minute he's telling Joey to go ahead, and the next Joey's getting up, and then his brain slowly clues in that... Joey's already done?

It's darker outside than it was, and Jason looks around, confused.

"Wait," he says. "Did you do it already?"

I just finished, Joey signs. I guess you don't remember?

"If you hadn't told me, I'm not sure I'd have known it had happened at all. Just... lost time."

Jason misses whatever it is Joey signs next, his mind wandering through the implications., and when he catches Joey staring at him, hands still, his face goes red.

"Sorry," he blurts. "I didn't mean to tune you out. I was just thinking about it."

You're alright? Joey signs, eyebrow raising, his face the very image of concern.

"Fine," Jason says quickly. "Just thinking about it. What is it... like, exactly? On your end?"

It's hard to explain, Joey signs. I'm aware it's not me, and it's someone else's body, but it's not particularly weird or anything. I've been doing this for a long time.

"Since you were a kid?"

Just after this, Joey signs, and then makes a slashing gesture across his throat. Probably because of the sword.

Jason doesn't need to ask which sword, because there's really only one sword he could be talking about. Even so, he has no idea how the sword connects to... well, anything.

"Why would a sword... give you powers?"

Made of a rare metal, Joey signs. Do you know what this sign is?

Jason most definitely does not, so he shrugs, and Joey finger spells it out for him.

Volatile promethium, he continues. It activates metagenes. When I was exposed to the sword, I started developing my abilities.

"Huh," Jason says. "Wonder if any of us are going to end up developing powers."

Doubtful, Joey signs. From what Slade said, metagenes either don't exist here, or are a lot rarer. Slade doesn't seem to have one.

"Oh," Jason says, "I didn't ask how it went. With... Adeline."

She cried a lot, Joey signs. Which made talking difficult. I tried to explain to her what I've told Slade. I'm not this world's Joseph. I'm someone else, and we can't have a relationship if she's going to act like I'm her dead son come back to life.

"The way Slade did," Jason says, and Joey nods.

He got better, he signs. But at first, definitely.

"I guess she agreed?"

She did, he signs. We're going to just talk on the phone and try and make it a regular thing right now. I explained the whole body borrowing thing, so next time it's going to just be my subvocal. She apparently already signed up for ASL classes.

"At least she's enthusiastic," Jason says with a shrug.

Joey stares at him for a moment, making that face that Jason knows means he wants to ask something but isn't sure if he should. But Jason's in a sharing mood right then, so he shrugs.

"Ask away," he says.

Bruce isn't your biological father, right? Joey signs.

"Bruce? Oh no. Just adopted. My actual father's both a piece of shit and dead, so good riddance."

He's used to a lot of reactions when he mentions his scumbag parents. Normally it's somewhere along the lines of oh you shouldn't say that, I'm sure they loved you! Or some nonsense like that. Joey, on the other hand, has a very different reaction.

That bad? He signs.

"My parents were homeless meth addicts who spent my entire childhood telling me that the first thing they did was try and give me away, only no one would take me," Jason says.

It's the truth, but it's also delivered in the harshest way he can imagine. He's expecting—maybe even hoping—that Joey will recoil. It's the normal reaction. But he doesn't, just nods along in that overly understanding way of his.

Jason doesn't talk about his parents much. There's never any reason to. They're scum, the worst of the worst, and people don't like hearing about them. But in the face of Joey's simple understanding, he can't help himself, and it starts to leak out entirely without him intending it to.

"Lived in and out of hotels for my whole childhood," he says. "Never really did the school thing. It was bits and pieces in different schools where I kept dropping out. Taught myself to read at kids programs at the local library. When the loan sharks and their men would show up, my parents would just leave me behind and let me take the beating. I got away from the gang life by selling them out to Maroni when I was thirteen. He let me watch him kill them like he was doing me a favor, and I hated them so much I think it was."

He keeps making it worse. He keeps adding more details, making it more and more obvious what kind of a life he had. What kind of person he was. Even if he's different now, that's the kind of person he is, the kind of person who watched as as Maroni pressed a gun to his mother's head and asked him if he had any final words to them and all he could say was this is what you get.

Jason isn't sure when he started crying. It's a stupid, petty thing. It doesn't matter. It was years ago. But he just can't stop himself, and Joey's still just looking at him, and he buries his face in his hands.

This is what you get.

He was a monster. Maybe he still is.

Jason is barely even registering what's happening around him. He's losing his fucking mind. He's having a meltdown and Joey is right there watching him freak out and at some point Jason becomes aware that someone has picked him up, that someone is carrying him away.

He can't see through the tears so he simply curls and lets himself cry.

Jason comes back to himself in bits and pieces. He's in his room, curled up in his bed, and Slade's there, rubbing slow circles on his back just like he used to. It's been a long time since he's had a meltdown like that, and the idea of it—the shame—feels like a flaming poker being forced into his body.

He didn't just have a meltdown for the first time in years. No, he had a meltdown for the first time in years in front of Joey.

Jason buries his face in his pillow and tries not to think at all.

Bruce arrives sometime later, speaking in hushed tones to Slade about something Jason intentionally tries not to hear. He catches Joey's name and doesn't want to know any more, but eventually it doesn't matter.

"If you want to talk," Bruce says. "We can. Or we can not talk. I already called Mr. Holt."

Jason knows what that means. Therapy in the morning because he needs to talk it out with someone, even if that someone isn't Bruce and Slade.

In the end, Jason never does talk about it. He keeps trying to, keeps working himself up to it. He keeps wanting to ask if Joey's alright, or if he hates him, or if he's horrified because Jason lost his mind in front of him, but every time he tries to open his mouth he can't quite find the words.

In the end he falls asleep with Slade and Bruce on either side of him, making sure he's not alone.

Chapter 33

However bad Jason felt the night before, he feels worse in the morning. In the morning, he's faced with the actual reality of the situation.

It really happened. He really burst into tears in front of Joey. Really rambled about his shitty life and his shitty parents entirely unprompted.

Jason slides off the bed, ignoring Bruce and Slade, and heads for the bathroom. He skips past the mirror, cranking the shower up to scalding, and then climbs in.

It's Slade that hauls him out almost thirty minutes later, turning the water off and toweling Jason down.

"No," he says. "You're going to stop that right now."

When he looks, his skin is red and raw from the heat, so he doesn't fight it when Slade wraps the towel around him, bending down a bit to look right into his eyes.

"You are doing better," he says. "A lot better. And right now you're beating yourself up because you feel like you aren't, but you are, Jason. What does Hudson say to you all the time?"

Slade knows because Jason's repeated it to him a million times, and when prompted the words come easily.

"Recovery isn't a straight line," he says, and Slade nods, straightening up and grabbing another towel to towel dry Jason's hair like he's a kid or something stupid like that.

"Exactly," he says. "No one's going to think any less of you for this except you, so you need to just stop that."

Jason doesn't agree, but he doesn't argue either. Instead he just nods, getting dressed almost mechanically as Slade steps out of the bathroom to give him some privacy.

Bruce is sitting on the edge of Jason's bed when he comes out. He doesn't look like he's had much sleep, his face pinched with worry.

"Do you want to talk about it with us, or with Mr. Holt?" Bruce says.

Jason doesn't need to think about that one.

"Hudson," he says. He doesn't know what he'd say otherwise. Doesn't know what he could say. He's not sure what caused the meltdown, and Hudson tends to be a great deal better than he is at sorting through his emotions.

"Alright," Bruce says. "I'll take you. Do you want breakfast, or-"

"No," Jason says. The idea of it—of sitting at a table surrounded by people who know what happened the night before—makes him feel sick. He doesn't think he'll be able to keep any food down, even if he does go for breakfast.

"Alright," Bruce says. "We can leave when you're ready."

They leave the house without seeing anyone else, and make the drive in relative silence. A part of Jason worries if he should be leaving Bruce behind—aren't they supposed to be sticking with someone else?—and then decides that the odds of someone having picked up on their bizarre schedule change, followed them all the way there, and then trying to jump them are astronomical.

He goes inside the office. It's eight in the morning and Lonnie isn't even there, which only makes Jason feel that much guiltier. The office is supposed to be closed. It's only open because Bruce called and-

"Jason," Hudson says, coming out of his office. "Come in."

Hudson gives him some water and a granola bar when he realizes Jason hasn't eaten, and tells him to simply sit and eat because he needs something in him.

"You look exhausted," Hudson says, looking him over, "and red."

"The water was too hot," Jason says, and Hudson frowns because he knows that means I made it hot on purpose. It isn't the first time. Jason doubts it'll be the last.

Hudson doesn't ask what set him off right away. Instead, he walks him through the normal routine. Through his breathing exercises. Through his homework from last session. By the time they get around to what matters, Jason feels a little bit better, or at least less dead.

"Where do you want to start?" Hudson finally says.

That's an easier question than what set you off. Jason knows where to start more or less. He knows the beginnings.

"I was talking with Joey," he says. "Things were going well. He was... talking about his—not his mother but the version of his mother in this dimension—and then I could tell he wanted to ask something, so I told him to ask, and he asked me if Bruce was my biological father, and I told him no."

The corner of Hudson's mouth twitches, and Jason's pretty sure he's thinking to himself I know where this is going.

He probably does. Hudson knows him pretty well. Sometimes Jason feels like Hudson knows him better than he knows himself.

"I told him my real father was a piece of shit and dead, and he said—signed, he's mute—something like 'that bad?'"

It's not something like. It was That bad? And the signs are all but burned into his eyeballs. He can't stop thinking about them, because Joey had no idea what he was stumbling into.

"And you told him," Hudson says, and Jason simply nods in return, staring at nothing for a few moments.

"I told him," he says. "I just kept telling him. I should have stopped and he was - he's probably fucking disgusted, who wants to hear that? Who wants to hear that this person you only just met helped kill his fucking parents?"

"How did he react?" Hudson says, and Jason shakes his head.

"I don't even - I don't even know. I couldn't even stop myself from crying. I couldn't even look at him. Slade had to... had to rescue me like I was a kid who'd scraped his knee."

"How do you think he reacted?"

"Horrified," Jason says. He doesn't even have to think about it. "Disgusted."

"I think, Jason, that we both know this isn't a reaction to talking about your parents," Hudson says, and when Jason doesn't say anything, he continues. "You're expecting the worst from the people you meet. You expect that they'll hate you, or that they'll abandon you. You always assume the worst, rather than waiting to see how they'll react."

"How could I not?" Jason says. "This isn't like the thing with Harper or Cullen. This is - I helped murder my parents!"

He's yelling, but Hudson doesn't rise to the bait. Jason takes several deep breaths, sinking back into his seat as he runs through all those breathing exercises that Hudson taught him, and only once is ready does he speak again.

"I'm ready to continue," he says, and Hudson nods.

"You went through more in the first few years of your life than most people do in their entire lives," Hudson says. "If Joey told you that he'd done the same thing—that he'd done exactly what you did—would you hate him for it?"

"He didn't," Jason says. "His parents are still alive."

"Imagine," Hudson says. "Would you hate him for it?"

"No," Jason finally says. He can't imagine hating Joey for it. He's having a hard time imagining hating Joey at all. The idea of it is just making him feel worse, because Joey hates him, and how is he going to live in the same house as Joey? Maybe he should move out.

"You need to treat yourself like a friend," Hudson says. "If you wouldn't hate a friend for it, you shouldn't hate yourself for it. What happened was a lifetime ago, and you've grown and changed as a person. How Joey reacts to it doesn't matter as much as how you react to it."

Jason looks away, staring out the frosted glass of the window. He wonders if Bruce is still there, sitting in his car, waiting for him to finish.

"I reacted to it like shit," Jason mumbles.

"Recovery isn't a straight line," Hudson says. "Sometimes there are setbacks. Sometimes you find yourself walking backwards. What matters is that you can look at everything—not just today, but everything —and recognize that. So try right now. Have you improved since you were thirteen?"

"Yes," he says. The answer comes easily. He's a fundamentally different person than he was back then.

"Since you were twenty?"

"Yes," he says. When he was twenty he was so, so angry. Most of that anger is gone, drained away with time.

"What about in the last three years?"

Three years ago still feels like a lifetime ago, but it's easier still. Three years ago... three years ago Damian was joining their family. Jason was learning to be a brother to him, to help him move past his own issues.

"Yes."

"The last year?"

"Yes," Jason says. "I get it." There's no point in dragging out the exercise. The point is to recognize that he's still improving, even  with the setbacks, and he reaches up, dragging his fingers through his hair as he makes himself take a deep breath.

"How do I-" Jason starts, faltering for a moment as he tries to figure out how to even ask his question. Eventually, he decides that his first instinct was the best. "How do I talk to him about it? He just saw me... he saw me melt down."

"From what you've said about him," Hudson says, "and from what I know of your family, I suspect he already has a good idea of what happened. But you would talk with him just like you'd talk with anyone. Try not to have decided how he's going to react before you even speak with him."

"Can you just... can you just give me a script? A starter? Something?" Jason pleads, and Hudson gives him a wry smile.

"I'm here to help you come up with your own starters," he says. "Not to give you mine. What do you want to say first?"

"To... to apologize for dragging him into that. For making him see-"

"You started well," Hudson says. "Go from there."

"I can... tell him that I'm sorry he had to see that," Jason says.

"What do you think he might be thinking? Seperate from his reaction to the story, how do you think he's really feeling?"

Jason doesn't like thinking about it, but he tries anyway.

"He probably... thinks that it's something he said," he finally says.

"Then go from there. That I'm sorry he had to see that, and that it wasn't anything he said."

"And then what?" Jason says. "How do I - how do I even know what to do?"

"Don't push yourself," Hudson says. "Let things happen as they happen."

In the end, Hudson never does give him a script like he wants. It's probably for the better: pre-planning never lasts more than a line or two.

Bruce is waiting for him in the car when he leaves, and he slides into the passenger seat, emotionally exhausted.

"I still have therapy on Sunday," he says. "I didn't even get to tell him about Bane." Or about the scar thing that he was supposed to bring up. "He also said he prescribed me an extra large omelette."

"Hmm," Bruce says. "Well, doctors orders."

They go to the cafe on the far side of the parking lot for breakfast. Bruce doesn't ask what happened, but Jason can tell he's worried just the same.

"Sorry," he says as he works his way through his food.

"For what?" Bruce says, as if Jason has nothing to be sorry for.

Maybe in Bruce's mind he doesn't.

"For... taking you off schedule," Jason finally says. "You probably had plans."

"None of my plans are as important as this," Bruce says. "I don't think you realize it, but you ask for shockingly little. I'm happy to be here when you need me, you know."

Bruce reaches out, brushing Jason's hair from his eyes, and Jason goes pink, busying himself with his food rather than looking straight at Bruce.

When they head back to the manor, Jason feels almost ready to look at people again.

Chapter 34

It's Damian who finds him first, although finding him isn't quite the right word. When he and Bruce come in the front door, Damian's sitting at the bottom of the stairs, Portia in his lap and Titus in his feet.

"Jason!" He says, carefully unseating Portia before stepping over Titus, making a beeline for Jason and throwing his arms around Jason's waist, hugging him tightly. "I was worried."

"You didn't have to be worried," Jason says, patting Damian's back. "Just the usual."

Damian looks up at him with a scowl as Bruce closes the door behind him.

"The usual is not so usual," he says. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine," he says, ruffling Damian's hair with one hand. For once, he doesn't get any sort of protest, which hammers home how worried Damian was.

"Master Jason," Alfred says from the hall, and Jason glances up, trying not to have too much of a reaction. "Did you already eat...?"

"We stopped at the cafe on our way home," Bruce says. "Hopefully that's alright."

"Of course," Alfred says. "But if you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask."

Jason ends up taking another shower, this time at a normal temperature. When he glances at the mirror, his skin's still slightly pink, and he scowls, rubbing at his collarbone before turning away.

Stupid.

He gets the distinct impression that everyone is treating him with kid gloves. Damian keeps finding excuses to drop in on him and check to make sure he's alright, including dragging Jason out to play catch with Titus. Alfred keeps dropping off treats for the two of them, and even Wintergreen seems a little bit more present than usual.

That's not even starting on Bruce and Slade, who always seem to be hovering nearby, their worry obvious.

Thomas seems largely unaffected by it all, and Jason gets the impression he has no idea how to handle things.

He doesn't see Joey at all until mid-afternoon.

He doesn't intend to. He's not seeking him out (even if he probably should be). Instead he walks into the library, following Portia, and finds Joey sitting in one of the chairs, hunched over.

Joey glances behind him when he hears Jason's footsteps, snapping his book shut and starting to get up.

I'll go, he signs, and the discomfort is palpable.

"No," Jason says quickly. "You don't have to go. If you don't want to-"

He stops himself, trying to remember what Hudson said. Trying to remember that Joey probably isn't disgusted with him. That he's just... uncomfortable. Because it's an uncomfortable thing. He makes himself take a deep breath and then tries again.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he says. "It wasn't anything you said."

He's twelve words in and has already run out.

It's alright, Joey signs. Bruce kind of sat me down and told me it wasn't.

Bruce. Last night? It would explain why Bruce wasn't there right away, but then Jason's not entirely sure where anyone was last night. It's all a great big blur of tears and misery.

"Sorry," he says anyway. "That was - bad."

It's fine, Joey signs again. Really.

He pauses for a moment, and then simply shrugs.

I know you probably don't really believe me, Joey signs. But really, it's not an issue. If anything, it was kind of nice.

Jason's pretty sure his eyes pop out of his head.

"Nice?" He says, confused beyond all belief.

Sorry! Joey signs frantically. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just used to being around people who wouldn't know an emotion if it stabbed them in the eye, so having someone actually show emotions caught me off guard.

Jason has a general idea of what Joey's getting at, but by god he's not doing a great job of conveying it.

"I still dumped all that on you," Jason says. "Which I shouldn't have. You didn't... need to hear that."

No, Joey signs, and for the first time Jason really wishes Joey was more comfortable using his subvocal mic, because his instinct is to avert his eyes and that isn't exactly possible when he needs to watch Joey's hands. It helped a bit. There's a lot of stuff that people talk about that I don't have any context for. So I feel like I understand a little bit better.

Jason exhales, reminding himself that Joey's right. Joey has no context for half the stuff they say and do. He knew Dick, but he doesn't seem to have had much of a relationship with anyone else in their family, so he doesn't even have the context of the other Jason to go off.

Jason wonders if the other Jason even has that much in common.

"You can ask," he finally says. "If you want to know. You don't... I mean, it's not like you can look it up, and I know we can get confusing." He remembers Joey's reaction to Slade talking about his contingency plans and Arkham and all that. There's just so much, and it's not as if any of them have written a things you need to know for Joey and Thomas.

Maybe he'll leave Thomas to Bruce and Slade.

I get the general idea, I think, Joey signs. You had a bad childhood. How did you meet Bruce?

"Batman got lobbed into my territory," Jason says. "I tried to kick him out, and then when the Joker was going to kill him, I saved him. As thanks, Bruce got me arrested."

The corner of Joey's mouth twitches, and even though his hands are still, the are you serious? Is blatant.

"Yep," Jason says. "I mean, he got me out. I got a Wayne Family grant for underprivileged youth. They put me in a boarding school, helped me get on my feet."

Then you were adopted?

"Then Batman asked me if I wanted to try out as Robin. Dick had gone to Bludhaven by that point, so it was just Bruce and Barbara. I loved it. Thought it was... it was like nothing else. Bruce adopted by after that."

Is it too soon to ask about...? Joey signs, trailing off without actually bringing it up, and Jason glances briefly to the side, taking a moment.

"It's fine," he says. "I was stupid. I felt like I could handle things on my own, so I rushed in and got caught in an explosion. Bruce spent... days there, digging through the rubble. Had them take apart the whole damn place, brick by brick, convinced I was dead. But the Joker had snagged me instead. He did... he did a lot of bad things."

Even if Joey's asked, he's not making the same mistake he did the night before. Joey doesn't need to know the details. He doesn't need that horror.

"A few months - six months in, he killed me on camera and sent it to Bruce. Really fucked him up. He'd actually shot me in the vest, but Bruce didn't know that. So he mourned me. The clown wouldn't even tell him where my body was, so he didn't realize I was still alive. I spent... a lot of time down there. A lot of time getting convinced Bruce had abandoned me. I didn't even know he thought I was dead. And when I escaped—thanks to Slade—I decided I wanted revenge."

Whatever Joey signs, if it's anything at all, he misses. He can't quite look at him, even if he should be.

"Slade helped a lot with that. Helped me build up this big plan. Helped me figure it all out and start enacting it. Brought together a militia, trained them up, gathered allies... Then Slade grew a conscience and started looking into me. Figured out who I was and what was happening, and convinced me that revenge maybe wasn't a good idea. Helped me become part of the family again. I owe him a lot."

He's missed a lot of details, but he thinks he's covered it well enough. Enough that Joey has the context he needs to understand more or less anything that might get said.

When he spares a glance back towards Joey, Joey's obviously been waiting for him to look.

Thank you for telling me, he signs, and Jason feels himself let out a small sigh of relief. It's a perfectly fine reaction. Joey looks upset, but it's more upset with the story than with Jason for telling it. It's a normal reaction. People don't like hearing about kids getting tortured.

"Thanks for listening," Jason says. "I don't normally... tell people this stuff. Even people I'd consider my friends normally get a... a heavily abridged version."

I can imagine why, Joey signs. It's hard to talk about that kind of stuff. You don't want to overshare, but you don't want to feel like you're hiding it either.

Jason smiles just a little bit, giving a nod.

"Now I feel stupid," he says. "I kind of thought you'd... I don't know, hate me for it. For all that. I should have realized the fact that you talked regularly with Deathstroke would mean you'd be made of tougher stuff than that."

Joey's face pinches, and Jason realizes he's said something wrong, even if he's not sure what. Joey just shakes his head.

Nothing to do with pop, he signs. Just has to do with me.

Joey's never really explained why he's there. The explanations Jason's heard were equal parts vague and confusing. A dead fiance. A life spiraling out of control.

"Does it have to do with why you left?" Jason asks, and Joey nods.

I made a lot of mistakes, he signs. I hurt a lot of people and didn't have control of my own life. I thought things would be better here, and so far they are. No one's trying to ruin my life because of who my parents are, for one.

Jason isn't sure if it's intended as a joke until he glances up and catches Joey smiling, even if it seems somewhat pained.

I tried to kill someone, Joey signs, and it catches Jason so off guard that he's sure the shock and confusion shows on his face. Even so, Joey doesn't stop. My ex. He was going to break up my fiance and I, and I panicked. I don't even know what I was thinking. And once that was done I kept making worse and worse decisions. I stole his suit to hide the evidence. I started popping pills to deal with the stress. I pushed my fiance to move up the wedding. I nearly killed pop and my sister because I couldn't handle it. I was a mess.

It occurs to Jason, as he watches, that this is Joey returning the favor. He knows so much about Jason, and now Jason knows so much about him. But it's also a confession, and Jason wonders how many people know the things that Joey's just told him.

I was a mess, Joey signs again, sagging back into his seat.

"You're doing better," Jason says. "Here, I mean. So maybe you were right. Maybe it was better to... to get away. To come here. Damian seems to really like you, and I know Slade and Bruce do."

Can I tell you something I've never told anyone before? Joey signs, and Jason has to brace himself, suddenly horribly aware of how Joey must have felt when he was spilling his life story the night before.

"Yeah," Jason says. "I mean, I've told you a bunch of stuff." It only seems fair.

Joey doesn't sign at all for almost a full minute. He seems to be deciding, as if he's not sure if he actually wants to share or not. As if he was half expecting Jason to say no, you've already shared enough.

Pop used to be angry a lot, Joey signs. But he always took it out on Grant. It wasn't just punishing him because he misbehaved, it was like he was looking for reasons to hit him. He said it was to toughen him up.

Jason feels ill. The idea of Slade—of any version of Slade—being like that...

He never touched me. Ma was always in charge of if I misbehaved, but she'd let me do whatever I wanted, even before my throat was cut. If Grant said one word out of turn, pop would belt him. If I threw a wild party while she was out of town, mom would lecture me. It wasn't fair, and I only made it worse. I always looked up to pop, and he would always treat me like I was the perfect kid. I think Grant hated me for it. I think pop - I know pop cared about him more, but the way he showed it was so awful I think he wished that pop didn't.

It feels like a confession, and Jason guesses that, in its own way, it is.

Grant ran away the same time my throat got cut, he signs. In the end, I don't think they even looked for him because they were too busy with me. Maybe if they had, he'd still be alive.

It's not Jason not looking at Joey anymore: it's Joey not looking at him. His eyes are cast down, not meeting Jason's own, and Jason instinctively reaches out, taking Joey's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"You can't blame yourself for that," he says. "You were a kid. You wouldn't-"

Christ he sounds just like Hudson, doesn't he?

But Hudson's right, so all he can do is carry on.

"If someone else confessed all that to you, you wouldn't hate them for it. You'd just... feel bad that they had to go through it. So you need to... to treat yourself like a friend."

Joey doesn't respond right away. He's unfocused, lost in his own head, and Jason gives his hand another little squeeze, snapping him out of it. Jason lets go, and Joey raises his hands again.

Sorry, he signs. Thank you for listening.

"Anytime," Jason says automatically. He wants to say something else, but after a few seconds his brain can't come up with anything beyond us kids of fucked up parents have to stick together, and he's pretty sure that wouldn't go over well.

I'm going to check in with Damian, Joey signs. I'll see you at dinner?

Jason gives a nod, and Joey pulls away, tucking his book under his arm as he heads out into the hallway.

Jason just gives himself time instead, staring at the library and wondering if that actually went as well as he thought.

Chapter 35

Jason can't decide if dinner is more or less awkward than usual. Part of him worries that he's reading too much into it. Part of him feels like it actually is awkward.

Tim and Barbara drop by just after dinner, with Jackson riding atop Tim's shoulders.

"I hear we got a cow," is Tim's greeting, which results in Damian producing a stack of photos seemingly from thin air to tell him all about it.

Bruce seems to be making a point of intentionally hogging Jackson, much to Thomas's obvious annoyance, and Slade settles in to fill them in on all the family drama. Tim and Barbara both seem to like Wintergreen, who introduces himself in the most polite manner possible.

None of them mention his breakdown, a fact that Jason is impossibly thankful for. Either Tim and Barbara don't know (and he hopes that they don't), or they're too polite to bring it up. Alfred feeds all three of them, even though the family has just finished dinner, and it's not until after they're all done when Tim settles in beside him on the couch that Jason's stomach does a little flip.

Fantastic. Great. Tim's there to play at being the responsible big brother and ask how he's feeling.

"So," he says, and Jason does what he can to mentally prepare himself. "How's Joey doing?"

The question catches him off guard, and it takes him a second to realize he's misjudged.

"Pretty good," he says when his brain and his mouth start cooperating again. "I think Damian really likes him now that he knows Joey's also interested in art. Slade's adjusting... Bruce likes him. He's fitting in."

"That's good," Tim says. "Was kind of worried about how you guys would do without the whole family around. Feels like it's probably easier to adjust when they're just one in a dozen."

Tim makes polite smalltalk, and Jason is left wondering if he knows anything at all.

Barbara eventually trades off with him, letting Tim handle chasing Jackson around the house as she settles in beside Jason for some talk.

"So," she says, and Jason's stomach does another little flip, because even if Tim doesn't know, she probably does. "Thomas?"

"Not doing so well," Jason says, wondering if Barbara and Tim are going to be comparing notes by the end of the night. "I think he's expecting war to break out at any moment."

"Sounds like it," she says. "What about you? It's a lot to deal with, all the... everything that's happened the past week and a half."

Jason has never been able to hide anything from Barbara. Even when they were kids, just starting out under Bruce's tutelage, she had always had a way of telling exactly what was going on in his head.

"Not so well," he says after a pause. "I had a breakdown last night. I think I freaked out Joey."

Her eyes crinkle with concern, and she leans in a bit, as if expecting to see some kind of physical sign. Hours later, the ruddy redness of his skin is all but gone, so there's nothing to see that isn't always there.

"You're alright now...?" She says after a moment. "If you want, you know you can always come crash at our place."

"I'm fine," Jason says. "It was just a lot at once. It's fine."

"If you say fine one more time..." Barbara says with a scowl.

"I went to therapy," Jason says. "I talked it out. I talked to Joey. I'm fi- alright."

Barbara gives him a look, and Jason huffs under his breath.

"Don't push yourself too hard, alright?" She finally says. "You do tend to do that."

"I do," Jason says, because he's sure as hell not going to argue that. "But so do you. So does this whole family. That's practically our family motto. Waynes: we push ourselves too hard so you don't have to."

Barbara laughs at that, and Jason feels a little bit better.

Jackson darts into the room, and Jason wonders just how it's possible for someone so small to move so fast. Jackson hops onto the couch with two feet, and Jason deftly catches him, planting him down on his lap.

"No running," he says, and Jackson gives an almost comedic scowl in his direction.

"But the hallways are big," he says. "Good for running."

"If you run," Barbara says, "you're going to make great grandpa Alfred really sad."

That seems to put running to rest, at least for the moment.

"Is Jackson in here?" Tim asks, popping his head around the corner, and Jackson ducks down behind the back of the couch. Jason's pretty sure Tim saw him, but Tim plays along anyway, slinking off and wondering particularly loudly where his son has gone while Jackson giggles to himself.

"You take after your uncle," Jason says once Tim's gone. "With all that jumping you do."

"Don't tell him that," Barbara says. "Dick told him one too many stories and now he's ready to run off and join the circus."

Damian and Joey arrive at the same time, with Damian letting out an exhausted sigh.

"We should never have allowed Wintergreen into the house," he says. "It's given Alfred too much power. They're having a debate about... something. Football?"

"Soccer," Jason says. "Which is football everywhere else."

"It's all the same," Damian complains. "It's boring."

Don't let Wintergreen hear you say that, Joey signs, and then loops around so he's on the opposite side of the room from everyone else. It feels a bit lopsided, but it does make it easier to spot when he's signing.

"It is!" Damian protests.

"I think it's nice," Barbara says. "Now Alfred has someone who can talk to him about his interests."

"Save me," Tim says as he bursts into the living room, immediately flopping down onto the couch beside Jackson. "Thomas is having another argument with Bruce and Slade." When Jason glances towards him, he catches Tim scrubbing at his face. "Is he always like this?"

"More or less," Jason says. "He's... having some issues adjusting."

"By which you mean that he was plotting fifteen ways to murder Bane the entire time you two were talking," Damian grumbles.

Jason's not surprised, but he winces anyway. Tim, on the other hand, shoots Damian a dirty look, nodding his head towards where Jackson is sitting between him and Jason.

He's trying, Joey signs, which seems overly generous to Jason. Apparently he's not the only one, because Tim winces in response.

Jackson scoots up a bit closer to Jason, leaning in to whisper to him.

"Why does he keep waving his hands?" Jackson asks, and Jason realizes rather quickly that Thomas isn't the only person who doesn't know ASL.

"Huh," Jason says. "Guess you didn't do an introduction, did you?" Jason lifts his head a bit, looking to Barbara and Tim before nodding his head towards Joey, and Barbara catches on.

"Jackson," Barbara calls, and Jackson hops off the couch, running over to her and letting himself get lifted up onto her lap. "You didn't get introduced to our new friend, did you?"

Jackson swings his head around, eyes wide as he stares at Joey. Joey looks a tiny bit nervous, and Jason wonders for a moment just how many kids he's actually been around. It's not like his world had a next generation of Wilson's or anything...

"This is Joey," Barbara says. "He's a good friend of ours, but he comes from far away."

Jason feels like he's from another dimension might be a little bit too much for someone who's so young. That's not even taking into account the fact that Jackson might not understand that he can't tell people about the fact that his parents are vigilantes who regularly work with Batman.

Jason really hopes he gets to sit in on that conversation when Jackson's old enough.

"Why isn't he talking?" Jackson asks immediately, and Tim winces. Barbara, on the other hand, is ready.

"Joey is mute," he says. "So when he talks, he talks with his hands, like this." She makes a point of signing as she explains, and Jackson watches her with obvious fascination. "Or sometimes he can make a voice come out of a phone."

Joey seems to catch on, and he leans forward, setting his phone down on the coffee table, the screen lighting up.

"Hey Jackson," he says, and Jackson immediately leans over, staring at the phone.

"Hi," he says to the phone.

"Your dad and I are going to start helping you learn to talk with your hands too," Barbara says.

"How about," Tim says, "I show you how to say your name?"

He tows Jackson off to another room for some instruction, and Joey seems to sag into his chair.

Sorry, he signs. I'm not really used to kids.

"Neither were we," Barbara says. "You get used to it."

"Kind of surprised you guys didn't just start him on ASL," Jason says.

"Well," Barbara says, "we weren't actually planning on him doing the vigilante thing-"

"He will," Damian says. "We all do eventually."

Barbara rolls her eyes.

"Like I was saying, he's going to be learning it in preschool when he starts in September, only I guess we're going to start a bit early."

"I can use the phone," Joey says, but Barbara immediately shakes her head.

"If you're more comfortable signing, we can adjust," she says. "I am the last person you're going to have to explain yourself too."

Joey smiles at that, and when Jackson comes back a few minutes later, finger-spelling his name, Joey finger-spells his own right back.

"It has the same J!" Jackson announces. "And you have an o..."

"And that's an e," Tim says as Joey slowly signs through it. "And a y."

"For Joey!" Jackson says, and then slowly signs his way through Joey just to show he can.

Jackson makes them go around the room, signing their names for him in slow, careful motions. He seems delighted when he recognizes the J-A of Jason's name, which amuses Jason because Jackson already knows the alphabet.

Barbara has the longest name, but it's the same three signs repeated in an easy pattern, and in the end it's Damian's name that trips Jackson up the most, struggling to remember the m. 

"Alright," Tim says. "This one is for Grandpa." He tutors Jackson through Bruce's name, and then announces he's going to go ruin any fight, scooting Jackson towards where the older generation are talking at the back of the house.

He's a cute kid, Joey signs.

"Good," Barbara says. "I take that to mean you'll be willing to handle him when he starts drawing on the walls?"

I'm out, Joey signs frantically, and everyone laughs.

Barbara and Jackson leave later that evening, but Tim stays behind, heading down to the cave to perform some much needed maintenance on his suit.

"I don't think it'll be that bad," he says, "but I'd rather not get caught with my pants down, and I've got a few small tears."

Jason takes the opportunity to do some repairs on his own suit, and Damian joins them, while Joey lets them know he's going to head off to bed.

It's a slow night, but at least it's calm.

Chapter 36

Tim leaves just after breakfast the following morning to head directly to work, and the house immediately devolves into a lot of planning.

Slade's old Balkan armor is long gone, so they start to cobble together something new that fits the motif as Wintergreen handles the details.

What about using the ikon suit? Joey signs.

"Nope," Slade says. "The Balkan has to stay seperate, and I want to use that for normal patrols with some aesthetic modifications."

"Aesthetic," Bruce says, rolling his eyes, and Wintergreen clears his throat to get their attention.

"He has a contact who you'll need to meet before you can get the details," Wintergreen says to Slade, although it seems less like he's explaining the process for Slade's benefit and more for the benefit of everyone else. Slade's an old hand at the mercenary thing, and he's very familiar with how it all works. "That's tonight. We don't know when this is going to happen, but hopefully you'll get that information tonight."

"He should have a guard," Thomas points out. "What if someone realizes who he is? He's practically a public figure at this point."

"If they get my mask off, something's already gone horribly wrong," Slade says. "At that point I'll be leaving anyway."

"I agree with Thomas," Jason says. "You should at least have someone nearby in case something goes wrong. What if they kidnap you or something?"

"Unless our contact is Clark," Slade says, "I'm not really all that worried about that."

"We could get J'onn to go with you," Jason points out. "He'd be able to see what they know."

"Mind reading isn't admissible in court," Bruce says. "But I'll see if he's free."

The League already has a general idea of what's going on, but J'onn, as it turns out, is not free.

"He's visiting Roy," Diana says when Bruce calls her from the computer down in the cave. "I could pull him back, but he-"

"It's fine," Bruce says. "If he's handling things with Roy, then Roy needs him."

"Do you have a date yet? For this whole thing?"

"We're hoping tonight," Bruce says. "I'll let you know the moment I hear."

The meeting isn't until after dark, which leaves them almost the entire day to simply wait in anticipation.

He finds Joey out on the back porch, his attention on the book in his hands, and Jason shoves his hands into his pockets as he heads out.

"What are you reading?"

Joey jumps, twisting in place, and it's only then that Jason spots the pencil in his hands.

Not reading, Joey signs once he's put it down. I was just sketching. Damian lent me the supplies.

Jason hesitates, unsure if he wants to ask, and then finally decides that Damian always likes to show off, so maybe Joey'll be the same way.

"Mind if I see?" He says.

It's not the immediate oh yes, let me show you that he gets from Damian. Joey's more nervous, and it's obvious immediately.

I'm out of practice, he signs before handing the notebook over.

Joey is not out of practice. Or if he is out of practice, he's some kind of genius, because his sketches are downright gorgeous as Jason flips through. There's a mix of things, landscapes and views from around the house, objects Joey finds interesting, and little sketches of the people of the house as well. There are a number of Slade, and then Joey seems to branch out into the less familiar, with everyone else showing up sporadically.

Notably, Jason doesn't find any sketches of himself, and he's not entirely sure how to feel about that as he carefully hands the book back, deciding it's probably better not to mention it at all.

"They're good," he says. "And you said you were mostly a painter?"

Most of what I did was painting, Joey signs. It was what I liked the best.

"Part of me wants to see," Jason says. "Part of me dreads the possibility of Damian having an excuse to get more art supplies."

Too late, Joey signs with a grin. He's already asked Bruce.

Jason lets out a mock groan.

"I should have known," he says. "He'll take any excuse he can get."

It'll be good to paint again, Joey signs. It's been a long time for me. Sometimes it feels a bit strange, because it used to be such a big part of my life, and then... nothing for years.

He looks wistful as he says it, like he's remembering a much happier time of his life. Jason's pretty sure he is: every time Joey talks about his teenage years with the Titans, he seems a great deal happier.

"You can ask for stuff for yourself," Jason points out. "If you want to paint, you can just... ask for supplies."

I couldn't just ask, Joey signs, his demeanor exasperated. I'm already taking advantage of your hospitality just by staying here.

"Joey," he says, "trust me when I say that I know how you feel. I was... I had a hard time adjusting when I first arrived. But Bruce is honestly, genuinely happy to buy people things. It's one of the ways he shows his affection."

It took him a long, long time to recognize that, and Joey's squinting at him skeptically.

I still feel like I'm taking advantage, Joey signs, and Jason waves him off.

"You gave up everything you had to come here," Jason says. "The least we can do is help you adjust."

Joey doesn't quite agree to ask, but at least he seems more open to the idea by the time dinner rolls around.

There's not quite tension in the room as they get ready to go, but instead an air of quiet excitement. It feels like things are moving forward, like they're making progress. They know who's responsible. They know what's going on.

Jason and Damian draw the short straws.

"Sorry," Bruce says as he suits up. "But if someone's not on patrol, they're going to notice."

Damian grumbles the whole night, and Jason can't help but be annoyed that Slade keeps radio silence outside a few brief check-ins.

"Done," he finally says almost two hours after patrol starts. "I'll fill you in when you get back."

Jason and Damian abandon patrol less than halfway through the night, heading back to the manor to ambush Slade as he arrives back in the cave.

"So?" Jason blurts out.

"I," Slade says with a tone of voice that makes it very clear he's enjoying himself, "just got hired to attack Wayne Manor. Maybe you've heard of it."

"Oh dear," Alfred says. "I can already see where this is going."

"You declined?" Thomas says, his scowl evident.

"No," Slade says. "Why would I? Someone's about to pay me a boatload of money to attack the manor. If I'd declined, they'd have hired someone else."

"Being honest," Wintergreen says. "Who, exactly, would they hire? The world's assassin market is running rather thin lately."

"Assume that not all of us are up to date on the world's top assassins," Jason says, "and fill us in?"

"To keep it simple, there were eight major assassins who were hired to kill Batman a decade ago. Electrocutioner and Killer Croc are both dead. Deathstroke and Deadshot are retired. Lady Shiva is active, but operates only in Europe. Bane is effectively retired, as we now know. Copperhead and Firefly are both incarcerated."

There have to be more than that? Joey signs.

"The League is destroyed," Damian says, "which has badly damaged the supply."

"That's a supply I can be happy ran dry," Bruce mutters under his breath.

"That's not to say none are available," Wintergreen says. "The Dark Archer has been quite active on the west coast. Lady Vic has been popping up cross country. Cheshire has been making a name for herself... and of course David Cain."

"You forgot Shado," Damian says.

"Shado doesn't take jobs through the usual routes," Wintergreen says. "She hardly counts."

"Hold on," Slade says. "How do you know about Shado?"

"I keep up to date," Damian says pointedly. "I have my own contacts."

"How exactly does someone who can't even drink yet have contacts?" Slade asks with a grunt.

"Slade," Wintergreen says, "how old exactly were you when you started drinking?"

Slade grumbles to himself and doesn't answer.

"Should we not focus on what matters?" Thomas says with a grunt. "When is this happening, exactly?"

"Sunday," Slade says. "4:37 PM."

"That early?" Jason says. "PM? Not AM?"

"PM," Slade confirms. "Mid-afternoon. I double checked."

"It fits for a distraction," Bruce says. "If the point is to make sure the ways clear in Metropolis, attacking during daylight ties us up. Some of us will be at work and won't be able to get away. We'll have to call for help... and that means Clark."

"Except we're ahead of them," Damian says. "We can play this to our advantage. Slade can attack an empty house."

"Not quite empty, I'm afraid," Alfred says. "It would be particularly unconvincing. But some of us can stay at home, sell the story and all that."

The rest can go help in Metropolis, Joey signs.

"No," Bruce says. "Clark, Barry, and Hal are going to be in Metropolis. They can be low profile, and Jon can fly out to help. We have to look occupied. The plan has to look like it's working, or else Luthor might not carry out his half the plan."

"They're already coming?" Jason says. "What about Roy?"

"Too obvious if he goes missing," Bruce says. "No one knows where Hal is at any given time, Clark's already there, and Barry can leave thirty minutes before it starts and be handy."

"Diana?"

"Too obvious," Slade says. "I can't imagine anything needing more than Clark, let alone Clark and Barry and Hal and the rest of us standing by."

"I need to let them all know," Bruce says. "It's late. Get some rest, and we can work on the plan tomorrow."

They head upstairs in ones and twos, and Jason doesn't let himself linger. He's going to need his sleep, he's sure.

Chapter 37

Jason's pretty sure he's not supposed to be having fun getting ready to attack the manor, but he absolutely is.

Because there's something undeniably fun about figuring out how it's all going to work. They need to make it look real. They need to make it look like a real attack, like the Balkan's actually putting in the legwork. They need to make sure everyone's in the right place.

Bruce will be at work at Wayne Enterprises, his location obvious to everyone. Jason has therapy (no getting out of it, even if he wants to, his schedule too set) and then makes plans for a late lunch with the Rows. There's some debate about what to do with Joey and Thomas, before the decision is made that explaining them to the police will be a bit too difficult. So Joey goes with Jason, and Thomas gets attached to Michael, who'll be waiting on standby.

Damian, Slade, Alfred, and Wintergreen get to take the house, with Damian handling most of the legwork inside.

When Bruce produces a rocket launcher for Slade's use, Slade takes the opportunity to propose all over again as Bruce rolls his eyes.

"I can't help but suspect we're all in agreement as to which room is going to get blown in," Alfred says with a sigh. "And if you wouldn't mind shooting specific windows, they've been in need of replacement anyway."

They bring Gordon in on it just after lunch. When he arrives, he seems immediately alarmed. Jason initially thinks it's because he hasn't yet met Thomas (who seems extra stiff around him), Wintergreen, and Joey, but instead he realizes it's because Slade's grinning like a maniac.

They do a round of introductions (which includes Wintergreen getting introduced as a 'friend of Alfred's'), and then Gordon sighs loudly and sinks down into an armchair.

"Alright," he says. "What are you all up to now?"

They let Bruce handle most of the explanation as Gordon massages his temples.

"Of course," Gordon finally says when they're done. "I need to retire."

Gordon probably should have retired already, only he's a little bit too stubborn to settle into a purely civilian life.

"Maybe retire after we're done," Bruce says with a grin. "Don't tip off your guys, but feel free to remind them that Wayne Manor has some of the best security on the planet, and that you'd expect Batman to show up shortly."

"Is he going to?" Gordon asks, glancing towards Jason.

"No," Bruce says. "Damian's going to handle it. We'd like to emphasize that even someone as competent as the Balkan can't do more than a bit of property damage, and that's without any sort of Bat response."

"You mentioned Superman?"

"His son's going to arrive midway through and chase down the Balkan," Jason says. "But if you can radio in that Superman's on the scene, that would be helpful. It should be hard for anyone on the ground to tell them apart."

"Isn't he tiny?" Gordon asks.

"Up in the air with a big cape, no one can tell the difference," Bruce says. "We want to sell this as believable, but we also don't want to put anyone else at risk."

"I get it," he says. "Try not to have too much fun."

There's a general sense of excitement and nervous tension permeating the house through the afternoon. They let everyone outside the manor know what to expect, checking their gear as they mill about.

"So," Jason says as he watches Joey check over his suit. "Wildest two weeks of your life?"

Joey pauses to consider.

Probably, he signs. I've had some wild days, but I think moving to another dimension probably puts this at the top.

"Well," Jason says, "at least things should calm down after this is over."

"They won't," Thomas says as he cleans his guns out. Jason's not sure how the hell he managed to convince Bruce to let him keep them, but Jason doesn't personally mind at least.

"Huh?" He says.

"Things aren't going to calm down," Thomas says. "This will get resolved, and then there will be something else."

"It's been like three months since our last crisis," Jason points out. "And that one was in Star City. Not exactly local."

"There's always going to be something," Thomas says. "That's how this works. You knock one down, and the next is going to just get back up."

Joey shoots Jason an alarmed look, and Jason takes a bit more of a proactive approach.

"Let me guess," he says. "You think we should just shoot Lex in the head and be done with it?"

"He wouldn't have had a chance to organize this attack if he was dead," Thomas says.

"He's one of the ten richest people on the planet," Jason says. "You can't just kill him."

"You have one of the greatest assassins on the planet in the building right now, helping set minor explosive charges. He could, in fact, just kill him."

But he wouldn't, Joey signs, and when Thomas gives him a blank look he sighs and drops his phone on the table.

"But he wouldn't," Joey says through the phone. "He doesn't kill anymore."

"A mistake," Thomas says as he strips down his other gun. "He's going to lose someone important to him, and then he'll understand."

"Grim," Jason says with a roll of his eyes. He knows he should probably be supportive, but... god, is it hard. Thomas is just sitting there brooding while he cleans his guns, talking about how the world's going to end any second.

"Do you really expect things to go exactly according to plan?" Thomas asks, levelling his gaze at him.

"Nope," Jason says, popping his p just to piss Thomas off. "But it doesn't matter. No matter what happens, we're a family. We have each other's backs. One of us stumbles, and the others catch us. That's the difference between you and the rest of us."

Thomas reassembles his guns in silence, tucking them away.

"If that's what you think," he says. "I hope it that stays true."

He stalks upstairs, and Jason sighs.

"I want to say he's not trying," Jason says, "only I can't tell if he's actually trying or not."

I think he's trying, Joey signs, reverting the moment Thomas is gone. But it's harder for him than it is for me.

Jason sags back in his seat. Joey's right, it's just... maybe a bit difficult to deal with.

Who knows, Joey signs, he's got therapy tomorrow. Maybe that will help?

"I'm not sure he actually went last time," Jason says. "But I guess if we go regularly, maybe he'll give it a try?"

Alfred makes a mountain of food that night.

"I'm afraid we might miss a meal or two," he announces as everyone settles in to eat. "But I must admit I am eager to see all this over and done with."

"We have other things to focus on when it's done," Slade says. "But yes, it'll be nice to have Luthor behind bars."

"That'll set off some conspiracy theories," Wintergreen says. "But I suppose that's a small price to pay."

"When this is done," Damian says, "we can all go to the farm, and you can meet Batcow."

"You all have to go at least once," Slade says. "Sorry, new family rule."

Jason groans, and Damian elbows him in the side.

"You will love Batcow," Damian says. "This is not optional."

Even me? Joey signs.

"Even you," Damian says without missing a beat. "You will come along and meet Batcow."

"We can make a family trip of it," Bruce says. "Tuesday?"

"Tuesday," Damian says with a wide grin. "You're all committed now. I won't tolerate anyone backing out."

"See if you can loop Tim and Dick into it," Slade says.

"An excellent idea," Damian says. "Jackson must also meet Batcow."

"Might be too many people at once," Bruce says. "How about just us to start, and then you can get Tim and Dick to come another time?"

Damian huffs.

Tim and Michael take patrol that night, leaving everyone else to get, in Bruce's words, a full eight hours minimum. Jason's turns out to be more like six and a half, because he winds up losing track of time watching a movie in the living room.

He's not the only one: they're almost all still awake, and it's not until the movie finishes that Bruce and Slade usher them off to bed.

"Alright," Bruce says. "We all have things we need to be doing, so get to bed."

He makes a point of planting a kiss on Damian's head, and Damian tries to swat him away in obvious protest.

"No escape," Bruce says, keeping him pinned until he's done. "You going to surrender?" He asks, glancing to Jason.

Jason lets Bruce get all affectionate with him without protest, and lets Slade do the same thing.

"Alright," Bruce says. "Bed."

Jason expects to be up all night, unable to sleep. Instead, he's out the moment his head hits the pillow.

He dreams a good dream: a dream of his family and friends, standing with him as they face down some great monster.

It's still a good dream, because he knows they're all on his side. Because he knows he's not alone.

Chapter 38

When Bruce sees him off the following morning, he does so with a kiss to the head and a somewhat solemn reminder.

"Remember," he says. "You said you'd talk about... your scars."

Jason scowls.

"I don't think it's the best time," Jason says. "We kind of have stuff going on, not sure if you noticed?"

"I just don't think you should put it off any longer," Bruce says. "I know I can't make you do anything, but..."

"I'll talk to him," Jason says with a sigh. "I'll bring it up, alright?"

Bruce leans down, pressing another kiss to his forehead.

"Tell Damian to make sure Portia is safely down in the cave," Jason says. "Titus too."

"Titus is staying with him," Bruce says. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"Love you," Jason says. "I'll keep an eye on Joey."

Bruce ruffles his hair and Jason heads for the car. Thomas and Joey are already waiting there, both wearing long sleeves to hide the gear under their clothes. There's absolutely no reason either of them should need their suits, but the Bats have always operated under better safe than sorry, and they're not about to change that with Luthor screwing around in Gotham.

Jason doesn't even need to change anything about his outfit. He always wears long sleeves, so it's just a matter of not wearing the gloves of his suit. He keeps his helmet and gloves in the car, and folds the neckpiece down so it's out of sight, making sure Thomas and Joey are doing the same before heading out.

"So," Jason says, "gameplan. We're all going to our regularly scheduled therapy sessions. Feel free to mention what's going on or not, up to you. When we're done, Thomas is going to meet Michael, who can show you around Gotham a bit. Joey and I are going to go grab lunch with some of my friends, and then... I don't know, spend the afternoon with them like this is a perfectly ordinary day."

Thomas grunts his acknowledgement, and Joey gives him a thumbs up.

"Alright," he says. "Let's get going."

Only of course it's not that easy. There's a car accident on the way there, and Jason pulls into the parking lot five minutes after his appointment is supposed to have started.

"See you!" Jason yells over his shoulder as he sprints to his appointment.

He goes right past Lonnie, yelling an apology as he slams into Hudson's office. Hudson's already there, settled into his chair, but he glances up when Jason bursts in.

"Sorry!" He says. "There was an accident-"

"I saw," Hudson says with a small smile. "Sit down and we can get started. I'm not going to hold it against you when you've been late... how many times in the last few years?"

"Too many?"

"If I cared to count them, I could do so comfortably on one hand."

Jason settles into his usual chair, sinking back into his seat.

"I just don't like being late," he says. "Don't like people waiting on me."

"Aside from the accident, how has your day been?" Hudson asks, and Jason answers the question by reaching up to hike off his shirt, exposing the midriff of his costume underneath.

"Ah," Hudson says. "One of those days. Should I be going straight home after this?"

"No no," Jason says with a wave of his hand. "We've got things under control. I'm not even helping or anything, just standing by while everyone else handles it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Hudson says, and entirely without meaning to, Jason goes for it.

"Basically, we're-"

He stops, because Hudson is giving him a look, and he knows that look.

"What?" He says.

"You only explain your work to me in any sort of detail when you're avoiding talking about something else," Hudson says. "What are you avoiding, exactly?"

Jason squirms in his seat. Hudson is way too good at reading him. He knows all his tells even better than Bruce or Slade do, and he's far more willing to actually question Jason about them, rather than just letting them go without bringing it up.

"Bruce..." Jason says, taking a deep breath. "Bruce said I should bring something up."

"Bruce tends to have good instincts for when you should address something with me," Hudson says. "I assume it was something in particular?"

"Just... my scars. All that."

Hudson knows about his scars. He's never seen them—almost no one has—but he knows about them. He knows they exist. Jason's just not sure if he realizes how bad it is.

Hudson seems to consider for a moment, and then nods.

"I wondered when you would bring it up," Hudson says. "Even in the blistering heat of summer, you'd never wore anything that even reached your elbows. When you first became my patient, I assumed it was you leaning heavily into formality."

"No," Jason says. "I just... I know people won't want to see them. I don't want to see them."

"Think about why that is," Hudson says, and Jason sags back into his chair.

"People wouldn't want to see them because they're ugly," he says. "And I don't want to see them because they're... reminders. Of what happened. So I'd rather just not think about them at all."

"Part of the reason I waited," Hudson says, "is because I knew this would be easier later on. Put simply, most usual methods for dealing with this sort of thing have to go out the window. When you look into how to help with something like this as a therapist, the resources you get deal with much different problems. Something along the lines of body dysmorphic disorder crops up when someone has an unhealthy focus on a flaw they see in their body. Treatment involves helping them understand that the flaw exists primarily in their own head, and helping them become more comfortable with themselves."

"This isn't like that," Jason says. "This isn't me... thinking I'm fat and actually I'm underweight. This is... this is a real thing."

"I'm aware," Hudson says. "I know enough of what happened to you to have no doubt as to how bad the scarring is. In your case, the problem is instead something else entirely: the issue is there, but you misjudge how others will react to it."

Jason is silent, rolling the idea over in your head.

"I think we're at the point where you know I'm not going to tell you that it's all in your head, Jason," Hudson says, shifting in his seat. "I don't think that would help you, even if I do think you likely perceive the scarring as much worse than it actually is. Instead, I want to focus on how you react to it. To help remind you that, if you give people a chance, they'll often surprise you."

"I don't want to... to subject them to this," Jason says. "It's not pretty. It's... it's pretty hideous."

"Jason," Hudson says. "When was the last time you looked at them?"

Jason has to stop and think about that. He's not going to cheat—he glances every few days whether he wants to or not—and eventually he shrugs.

"I don't remember," he says. "Maybe a few months ago? Maybe a bit longer than that."

"I don't think you have a realistic idea of how bad your scarring is," Hudson says. "The damage is associated with the trauma that caused it, so you've avoided it entirely. But I think it would help if you reexamined the damage in a more... clinical light."

"With a doctor?" Jason asks.

"I was actually thinking something more in line with your professional life," Hudson says. "You've seen scarring on other people before, in your line of work. Imagine you'd run into someone and now had to inspect them. Go over it all, bit by bit. Don't push yourself too hard, but... explore, in a non-judgemental fashion."

"I can't be... non-judgemental," Jason says.

"Not all of your scars are from what happened," Hudson says. "There are other ones, which won't be as bad. From your father. From your work. Find those scars, and focus on them to start."

From Slade. Jason takes a deep breath and nods.

"That's your homework for today," Hudson says. "I don't want to push you too hard on this, because I know it's a sensitive manner. But this is the sort of thing that will improve bit by bit as long as you don't let it languish."

"Can I... do it in chunks?" Jason says. "Like... doing an arm or a leg or... something."

"If you'd like," Hudson says. "I would say do what you're comfortable with, only then you wouldn't do any at all, so instead... do what you can handle. At this point, you have a good understanding of your own boundaries."

Jason takes a deep breath and nods.

"Now," Hudson says, "why don't we talk about something more pleasant?"

They talk about how Jason's been handling the adjustment, and Jason ends up bringing up what happened with Bane. While Hudson's initial reaction to finding out that Jason confronted one of the people who tortured him is extreme alarm, by the time Jason's finished explaining, Hudson's eased back into his seat, smiling in response.

"This is good," he says. "More than I could have hoped for. You handled things perfectly. You didn't push too hard. You listened to your own feelings on the matter. It is... a serious step forward."

Even with his homework looming over his head, Jason's in a good mood as he heads back to the car. He gives a quick nod to Lonnie, heading out the door, and is surprised when the office's staff entrance pops open just in front of him and Lonnie dashes out.

"Jason," he says. "I need to talk with you."

Jason stops short, extremely aware of the fact that Joey is no doubt waiting for him back at the car.

"Alright?" He says. "If it's about the co-pay-"

"It's not that kind of talk," he says. "I need you to pass a message on to Batman."

On principal, Jason does not pass messages to the Batman. It's too much crossover, and too high a risk that his personal life and his nightlife end up becoming one. But while Lonnie has always been a fan of the more recent Batman, he's never actually tried to take advantage of Jason's blatant connection. He's never asked for an autograph, or tried to get an in with the Bats. He's been friendly, and they've talked, but he's never stepped over that line.

Jason's known Lonnie for more than half a decade, so he's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Especially when Lonnie looks so worried about whatever it is he wants to talk about.

"Sure," he says. "What am I telling them exactly?"

"You need to tell them there's going to be an attack in Gotham," Lonnie says, and Jason doesn't really have to act surprised. He's not surprised to hear there's going to be an attack, but he is surprised to hear that his therapist's receptionist somehow knows about it.

"What?" He says. "How do you know?"

"I have connections," Lonnie says. "That's not important. You need to tell them now, because it's not happening tonight. It's happening like... this afternoon. Three or four o'clock or something."

Jason's face pinches with concern.

"That's soon," he says, checking his watch. He feels a little bit guilty for lying to Lonnie's face, but it's not like he can just say no don't worry about it we have it handled without totally blowing his cover. "I'll let them know, and hopefully they can react fast enough to it."

Lonnie seems to relax a bit, and Jason wonders if he expected Jason to just refuse out of hand to have anything to do with it.

"Do you know where they're attacking?" Jason asks, wondering how good Lonnie's contacts are. If nothing else, it might help him figure out where the leak is. Luthor's side? The mercenary community?

"South Gotham Psychiatric Hospital," Lonnie says, and there is nothing feigned about Jason's alarm.

"What?" he says. "New Arkham?"

Jason doesn't know a single person who calls the facility by it's real name. To him and everyone else, it's always going to be New Arkham. Even if it's built on a new location. Even if the design is brand new. It's still the same people inside, and it's still going to be Arkham.

"Yeah," Lonnie says. "You need to-"

"I'll tell them," Jason says. "I need to go."

He bolts back to the car before Lonnie can say another word, his heart in his throat.

Chapter 39

Jason's pretty sure he causes some slight damage to his car door with how fast he pulls it open.

"I'm making a call," he blurts to a very confused Joey, fumbling with his phone as he pulls up the emergency contact numbers, dialing immediately.

It's a conference call. Everyone gets it at the same time, with the same distinct ringtone, and Jason listens as a round of clicks picks up. The call isn't just for immediate family: Jason's pretty sure that even Dick's proteges up in Bludhaven are getting the same call, and they all know that it means something bad is happening. 

"Raptor," Bruce says. "Report."

There's clear strain in his voice, but he keeps it professional.

"They have a different target," Jason says. "They're hitting New Arkham."

"Knight?" Bruce says.

"I haven't heard anything," Slade says. "My orders still stand as is. Do you have a source on this information?"

"Civilian contact," Jason says.

"How legitimate is this source?" Bruce says immediately. "This is important."

As if Jason doesn't already know it's goddamn important.

"Hold on," Slade says. "I'm disconnecting the emergency call. We'll report in within fifteen minutes, but I want everyone on high alert. Assume it's true, and act accordingly for now."

The call disconnects remotely, and seconds later Jason's phone rings again, inviting him into a much small group call. He spares only a quick glance to Joey, who looks extremely alarmed, before picking it up.

"Jason," Bruce says. "What's the source on this?"

"The receptionist at my therapist's office," Jason says. "I've known him for years, he's always chatted with me about Gotham's vigilante community, and he seemed absolutely certain and very alarmed."

"Name?" Bruce says.

"Lonnie," Jason says, trying to remember. He knows he's heard his last name, and-

"Lonnie Machin?" Bruce says.

"That's it," Jason says, before the realization hits him. "Oh no." The fact that Bruce knew his last name like that means he knows Lonnie.

"Lonnie Machin is the real name of the domestic terrorist Anarky," Bruce says.

"Does that make this tip more or less legitimate?" Tim asks.

"He's never been a friend to the Bats," Bruce says. "He had it out for me in particular."

"That was also literally more than a decade ago, Bruce," Dick says. "And he was... what, seventeen? That's a long time for someone to hold a grudge."

"I've held one for longer," Slade says. "You don't have enough information. Do you know where he is?"

Jason squints towards the office.

"Pretty sure I do," he says. "But if I do anything immediately, he's going to know it's me."

"Joey's still there, isn't he?" Slade says. "Send him. He literally flies, it's plausible he could have arrived quickly."

"Joey," Jason says with a glance. "You-" He abruptly realizes that Joey's just been sitting there, not able to hear either phone call, and goes pink despite the seriousness of the situation. He flips the call to speaker and drops it on the dash, a flagrant violation of Bruce's precious protocol, even if they are inside his car.

"Joey's here now," Jason says. "Tell him what you said."

"Joey," Slade says. "Can you shake him down for the source of the information?"

Joey's already in the process of pulling his sweater off, adjusting the ikon suit as he goes.

Yes, Joey signs. I'll put my phone under my suit and use an alternate voice. What am I asking?

Jason relays the message rather than waiting for Joey to sync to his phone. The line's too secure for something as easy as that.

"We need to know the source," Bruce says. "Point out that we have no reason to trust him. He needs to convince you."

Got it, Joey signs as he pulls his mask up. Back in a moment.

"While he's doing that," Barbara says, "I'm going to do what I can to independently verify."

Joey leaves Jason behind, alone with his thoughts. Alone with the rapidly rising tide of anxiety.

"Boy," Jason mumbles, mostly to himself. "Hudson's going to have a field day with this one."

"Jason," Bruce says, in his softest voice. "If you want to sit this out-"

"Absolutely not," Jason snaps. "Fuck that, Bruce. I'm not going to go off and hang out with the cow while the rest of my family fights for their lives."

"Let's remember," Slade says, "it's not that bad yet. Anything that happens there will get our attention, and Luthor knows we'd respond to that. This isn't a jailbreak, it's a distraction."

Jason rubs furiously at his temples, trying to ease the throbbing headache away. He squints through the windshield, but Joey's vanished into the office, and Jason wonders what the hell Hudson must think of what's happening in his office.

It occurs to Jason rather suddenly that Hudson probably actually knows what's happening in the office. He's described Joey, and the artificial sounding voice, combined with the proximity... It wouldn't be hard for him to make the connection.

"Any sign of him?" Tim asks. "I'm literally hiding in the bathroom right now."

"Go back to work," Dick says. "We've got this."

"Aren't you at work?"

"I'm already off," Dick says. "Had the vacation days saved up, and wanted to be on standby if we were needed. So's my whole team."

"If this is legitimate," Bruce says, "then I think you should bring them. We're going to need more people."

"Fuck," Slade hisses, and Jason hears something slam in the background.  "I should have realized this would happen. Luthor's too paranoid to hire one mercenary to deal with this. He'd hire as many as he could get his hands on. For all we know, there's a third."

Jason doesn't want to think about it, and mercifully he doesn't have to, because Joey appears from the door to Hudson's office, taking off. He makes a point of vanishing behind some trees before settling back down, jogging to Jason's car.

It's legit, he signs. I believe him.

"Legit," Jason says immediately.

Bruce swears worse than Jason's ever heard him.

"New plan," Slade says. "We can handle this. We have enough people."

"I'm hanging up," Dick says. "I'm going to bring my whole team down, leaving immediately."

"We'll let you know what's happening," Bruce says, right as Jason's phone beeps with an emergency text from Slade, sent to every member of the family and all associated vigilantes.

Gotham Knight: Source is legitimate. Prepare for second attack. Details to follow.

"Joey," Jason says, covering his phone with his hand to muffle it. "How do you know? You're sure?"

I'm sure, he signs. He said that he's changed, and that even if he still doesn't like the first Batman or Bruce Wayne, he has a lot of respect for the second Batman and Gotham's other vigilantes. He says that someone accessed security data at New Arkham, but that the director doesn't think it's a real threat. Someone's definitely getting ready to do something there.

"Fuck," Jason says. "Alright."

He uncovers the phone, interrupting the conversation.

"I got the rest from Joey," he says. "Director of New Arkham-"

"Can we please just call it-" Bruce says, and Jason cuts him off.

"No," Jason says. "It's New Arkham. Calling it something else isn't going to change that."

"Get to the point," Slade says. "We can argue over details later."

"Director knows someone's been messing with security, but doesn't think it's an issue," Jason says. "Probably counting on the whole we've never had a prison break thing. "

"Hold on," Barbara says. "I'm going to use our backdoor there and see what I can find."

"Could we send someone there and get them on high alert?" Tim asks.

"No," Bruce says. "That would ruin the rest of the plan. We need to decide how we're prioritizing this. What takes priority?"

There's silence from the other end, and Jason knows they're both thinking of him.

"We continue the plan as it stands," Jason says. "We left people away from the manor for this exact reason. We all continue doing what we're doing, and we prepare to respond to New Arkham as needed. The security measures are already in place to deal with it, and with Dick's team handy, we'll have a solid response ready. The entire facility was explicitly designed so that the staff are in no danger."

He does everything he can to make himself sound more confident in the decision, but the fact is that most of those security measures have never really been tested.

"...Alright," Bruce says. "We need to organize where everyone's going to be."

"Dick and his team can be standing by near New Arkham," Slade says. "The moment they get the call, they respond."

"Michael as well," Bruce says, and then swears under his breath. It's obvious how agitated he is, even over the phone. "Thomas is with him."

"There's no chance we're going to convince him to sit this one out," Slade says. "And- hold on, I'm putting Dick back on the line."

The call clicks, and Dick's voice suddenly comes through.

"Everyone's getting their stuff," he says. "I have a couple minutes. What did I miss?"

"We're following the plan as it stands," Slade says. "That means playing along with what Luthor has in mind."

"Am I still coming?"

"You're still coming," Bruce says. "We want you and your team down and nearby. The moment it's clear, you can drop in."

"Neat," Dick says. "I'll get my team ready to go."

"I'll handle Thomas," Bruce says. "I'll... explain the importance of this, and that while we could use his help, he needs to play by our rules."

"I'm leaving that to you," Slade says. "I'll handle Jon and the rest of the home team."

That leaves, by Jason's estimation, himself, Tim, Steph, and Joey without a clear place to be.

"It's possible that there's a third location," Jason says. "Barbara, do we have anything?"

"We do," she says. "Someone's set things up so that the security feeds for the outside walls will start looping at four o'clock."

"The security system shouldn't allow them to do more than that from offsite," Bruce says. "Which means they're probably going to be starting around then, and bypassing security from within the facility itself."

"Do we have any idea on who?" Tim says.

"No," she says. "Someone professional. The only reason it was so easy to find is because one: I'm really good, and two: I helped build the system."

"Alright," Slade says. "We are going to let Luthor spring his trap. It needs to look like we're struggling to respond. I'm going to hold off on attacking the manor until after the attack on New Arkham is underway. The moment the radio call goes out, I'll hit the manor. That accounts for why Jon heads for the manor, rather than New Arkham, since everyone would have started responding there."

"So what you're telling me," Dick says, "is that I need to stand by and let it happen until I could reasonably get there?"

"Afraid so," Jason says. "Can you do that?"

"I'll keep an eye on how bad it is," Dick says. "If it looks like someone's going to get hurt, I'm going in, plan or no plan."

Barbara's going to be coordinating them, and Jason runs through the mental list.

"I'm still worried about a third attack," Jason says. "What can we do to mitigate that?"

Joey waves a hand to get his attention, and then quickly signs.

I can fly, he points out. I can scout from the air better than any vehicle.

"Joey's offered to do aerial reconnaissance," Jason says. "We can use that to help sell it. Have Joey darting from mid-city towards New Arkham, and then turning around to head towards the manor before finally settling into a circling pattern."

"No objections," Bruce says.

"Where am I going, and do I need to fake being sick to get out of work?"

"You can't," Bruce says. "We don't know if Luthor is keeping an eye on any of us, but you need to stay the course and behave as normal. You'll be finished work at four anyway."

Tim grumbles to himself.

"I'm getting back to work then," he says. "If I'm gone any longer I'll have to explain myself. Loop me in when I'm out."

Tim hangs up, and Jason wishes he had a whiteboard just to be writing everything down.

"Steph and Tim respond like normal," he says, "along with Michael and Thomas. Dick is there for emergency response with his team. Home team?"

"I want Damian there," Slade says. "The manor is large, and it's entirely possible I'm not the only mercenary being hired to assault the house."

"Jason," Bruce says, and his voice is soft. "I think it would be better if you stayed in the city, ready to respond to anything else that happens."

"No," Jason says. "I'm going."

"It's not a good idea-"

"Bruce, if someone got hurt—or worse, killed— I'd never forgive myself. I can do this. I need to do this."

He knows he's pushing himself too hard. He knows it's not a good idea. But what he just told Bruce is true: he'd never forgive himself if he stayed away and someone got hurt.

"Alright," Bruce says. "But I want you with me. We can go in together."

It seems like an alright compromise.

"Okay," Jason says. "Everyone acts as normal until four. Slade, can you-"

"Already getting ready to send out new marching orders," Slade says. "Everyone else, get back to your regularly scheduled civilian lives."

Jason's pretty sure it's going to be the most stressful lunch meeting of his life.

Chapter 40

The parking lot's almost full when Jason pulls in, grabbing a spot not far from the restaurant. He double checks his own outfit, trying not to look too alarmed, and then makes sure Joey's done the same. His mask's pulled down, hidden behind his turtleneck, and Jason abruptly realizes that he's only seen the scar on Joey's neck once. Almost everything he owns seems to come up to cover it, hiding it just out of sight.

He files that away for later, because he doesn't have the brain cells to dedicate to it.

The Rows are already there, settled in at a booth, and Jason points them out to the host, who guides them over with a polite have a great lunch! Before she heads off back to her station.

Jason slides in first, letting Joey take the outside spot as he nods to Harper and Cullen.

"Wow," Harper says. "You look like you just witnessed a murder. Not having a great day?"

"A lot happened," Jason says. "Might have to duck out early, but you've got us until then. Going to be a no-go on the movie, though."

"What?" Cullen says. "No movie?"

He glances over to Joey, and then catches himself.

"Oh!" He says. "Jason said he was bringing someone, but you're the guy from - wait, right, mute, sorry-"

Joey's already set his phone on the table, and the screen lights up.

"It's alright," Joey says. "It's not an issue at all."

Cullen leans over to his sister, his eyes still on Joey.

"This is the guy I mentioned," he says, his voice going quiet. "The one from another dimension."

"I have to admit my ASL is probably worse than Cullen's," Harper says. "Sorry about that."

"Honestly," Joey says. "Not an issue. I'm used to making do with a lot less."

"That's not exactly a good thing," Cullen points out. "People aren't necessarily accommodating."

"Everyone here's been very nice," Joey says. "And it's refreshing having so many people who know sign. I'm used to only having immediate family."

The waitress arrives to grab a drink order, and once she's gone Harper leans forward slightly.

"So you're... what, a superhero from another dimension?"

"Retired," Joey says. "But yes."

"I want to say this is the weirdest thing I've run into," Harper says, "but I hang out with Jason, so that'd be a lie."

"So what's going on exactly? With this whole... no movie thing," Cullen says. "Did something go wrong with the... house... thing?"

"No," Jason says. "It's still on. We just have a second location, and need to be handy."

"I guess I'm going straight home after this," mutters Cullen.

"I'll make it up to you," Jason says. "We've just got... you know, work to do."

"It's fine," Harper says. "Work comes first, even if you are a dumbass who isn't even getting paid."

"Of course we're getting paid," he says with a grin. "You're buying our food."

Harper's in the middle of aggressively ruffling his hair when the waitress returns to get their order. Jason orders the largest burrito they have, but when Joey waves to draw her attention and orders via the phone, she seems... confused.

"He's mute," Jason says. "That's him on the phone."

The waitress glances between joey and the phone twice more before she finally writes down the order, obviously gawking towards Joey.

"That was rude," Harper mutters under her breath.

"It is pretty unusual," Cullen points out. "That kind of power is... uh, not really a common thing."

"Oh," Joey says, "it's not a power. It's just subvocals."

Cullen and Harper exchange a glance, and it occurs to Jason that it's not exactly common. Or possible. He ends up pulling up his phone, flipping through the wikipedia page for subvocal recognition and discovering that it effectively doesn't exist outside of contained lab settings.

"Oh," Jason says, showing Joey the phone. "I didn't realize that what Joey's got is so far ahead."

"So how does it actually... work?" Cullen asks, leaning forward to look for a microphone.

"Implants in my throat detect when I try and speak," Joey explains, reaching up to pull his collar down, showing the scar. If Jason pays enough attention, he can see tiny movements in Joey's throat as he speaks. "My vocal cords are damaged, so I don't make any actual sound, but the implants interpret them as best they can. When I started, I was barely coherent, but the technology's improved a lot since then."

"We definitely don't have that," Harper says, sitting back in his seat. "So I guess your world is beyond ours."

"More aliens and stuff," Jason says. "So more weird technologies getting integrated."

"It syncs to your phone?" Cullen asks, inspecting the phone on the table.

"It takes a bit to set up," Joey explains. "But yeah, it connects to phones. Anything with bluetooth, actually."

"You have a hyper advanced subvocal microphone technology... and it connects to bluetooth?"

"I guess having someone look at that would make sense," Jason says. "Because if anything ever happens to it, people are going to need the technology handy to be able to repair it."

"I hadn't really thought about it," Joey says, rubbing at his throat. "I've only had it for two years now, and the bluetooth is only about a year old. Before that I had to carry around a little speaker, and the recognition was hit or miss. I could always manage without it if it breaks."

"It's probably easier if you have it though," Cullen says. 

Jason catches himself tapping his foot under the table and makes himself stop. It's quick, easy conversation, but it feels far, far too normal. Like they're just friends hanging out. Like Jason's not wearing his suit under his clothes. Like Joey's not preparing himself to fly patrol over the city, even though he's supposed to be retired.

He lets them talk, contributing to the conversation only occasionally, and when his food gets there he forces himself to eat the whole thing. He doubts he's going to want to eat after, and he's going to need his energy.

"Jason?" Harper asks, dragging Jason out of his thoughts right around the time he's finishing his food. He glances up, realizing that all three of them are staring at him, and goes pink.

"Sorry," he says. "What'd you say? I must have missed it."

"I didn't say anything," she says. "I was just... are you alright?"

"Fine," he says. "Just... worried, I guess. Anxious?"

"It's not too late-" Joey starts, and Jason cuts him off.

"Do not pull a Bruce on me," he says. "I'm going."

"Everyone's just worried about you," Cullen says quietly. "We understand you being busy and quiet, but you've been... really out of it today."

Jason reaches up, dragging his hand through his hair.

"I... sorry," Jason says. "You guys are great and I feel like I should be paying more attention."

"It's fine," Harper says. "Really. But seriously: what is it you actually want to be doing?"

"Sitting nearby where I'm going to end up," Jason says. "Just in case it starts early."

"Then go," Harper says. "Honestly. You're going to just make yourself more and more anxious trying to stay here. Do what feels right."

Jason can't stop himself from smiling.

"You're the best," he says. "Remind me to give you a promotion."

"The only promotion I can get is kicking Michael out of his spot," she says with a grin. "And I think he'd have issues with that."

Despite what he said, Jason makes a point of paying for everyone's lunch. It's almost two when they head back to the car, with Joey giving a nice firm handshake to Cullen and Harper. They seem to be getting along, which Jason likes, but he can't help but feel a bit guilty over having skipped out on the movie.

He knows that it doesn't really matter, but the guilt's there anyway, even when he tries to push it away.

"Let's go," he says to Joey. "I know just the place to wait."

Chapter 41

There are precious few things in his life that Jason can credit to his time in captivity. One of them is undeniably his pain tolerance. The other is his ability to keep himself quiet and still for long periods of time without going insane.

When he was Robin, stakeouts felt like torture. As an adult, in a post-Joker world? Stakeouts are nothing. Jason's mastered them, knows just the right way to zone out while still maintaining his hypervigilance.

They park a few blocks from New Arkham in one of the many covered parking spots Bruce has bought for vigilante use. Jason makes sure his phone is plugged in as Joey does the same, and then he peels off his clothes, tucking them into the back as he fetches his helmet and gloves.

He gloves he pulls on. The helmet he leaves off, at least to start.

"Two hours," he says. "Maybe two and a half."

The radios already set up, the channels all organized. Everyone knows what they're supposed to be doing. Everyone knows what role they have to play. He triple checks that everything's in order, lets Barbara—already ready to go and settled into her command center—that he's standing by, and then he settles back in his seat and zones out.

Every time he's pulled back to awareness, it's by Joey. Joey might have a lot of skill, but he clearly lacks the ability to just sit for two hours in absolute silence, unmoving and unthinking. He fidgets, and eventually he simply browses on his phone, reading something or other quietly enough Jason can zone out again.

At 4:27, ten minutes before things are ready to go, Barbara has them all sound off, and Joey pulls on his helmet.

"Codenames only," Slade reminds them.

"Good luck," Dick says, and then everyone goes silent to wait.

Joey's a bundle of nervous energy, but Jason doesn't let it bother him.

It's 4:32 when the silence breaks.

"Emergency call just went through at New Arkham," she says. "Some kind of an attack, multiple reporters. They're pulling back to the saferooms and securing the facility."

"Going," Jason says, popping the car door as Joey does the same opposite him. "New Arkham Team, head for the location. Oracle, relay information."

"Blueprints are ready when you're closer," she says.

"Home team switching to channel two," Slade says. "Everyone in position."

Joey's already synced up to a cell phone, using the same relay method they used before.

"Jericho deploying," he says. "I'll update you if I see anything out of the ordinary."

Joey gives him a quick salute as he hops into the air, the suit effortlessly allowing him to fly up towards the nearest parking garage. Jason follows with a grapple, getting altitude to make it easier to move. They can't arrive too quickly. It has to look realistic. He knows Barbara's relaying everything they're doing back to the team in Metropolis, but there's something unnerving about the near silence on the channel as everyone heads for the facility.

"Robin and Batgirl on scene," Tim says. "Some employees evacuated, or were locked out. Police aren't yet on the scene. Going to establish a perimeter."

"Here's the situation," Barbara says. "Someone broke through from security, pure brute force. Situation inside is unclear, but at least two suspects. One headed down the west wing, probably heading for the security room. Other one headed into the east wing."

The east wing where the hold all of Gotham's worst criminals. Fantastic.

"Nightwing on scene," says Dick. "We're going to help with a perimeter."

"How many people did you bring?" Tim says.

"Brought my top five-"

"Keep the line clear," Bruce snaps.

"Home team is now active," Barbara says.

"Redirecting towards it," Joey says. "Nothing visible outside New Arkham, but I'll report in if I see anything else."

"Suspects have cut communication into and out of the building," Barbara says. "There are security cameras, but I don't have access to them right now."

There's something truly surreal about operating not just at dusk or dawn, but in full blown daylight. The sun's still high in the sky as he shoots his final grapple, swinging it down to ground level before sprinting towards Tim. He can hear sirens coming, and a crowd's already starting to gather.

"Azrael?" Barbara asks. "Batman isn't going to be there for another ten."

"Two minutes out," Michael says. "Go without me."

They've got him, Tim, Steph, Dick, and Dick's team. Jason recognizes Duke, but the others are all unfamiliar to him. Even so, they'll have to do introductions later, and he slips quickly into the tactician role. With no cameras, Barbara can't help them as much as she should.

"Oracle," he says, ignoring the crowd starting to gather. "Schematics?"

She doesn't answer, but Jason watches as the building's blueprints pop onto his helmet visor.

"We have too many people out here," Dick says, turning to his team. "Riko, Dre, I want you on crowd control. Keep people away from the building, and report if you see anything."

A young girl—maybe too young for the situation—and a boy who can't even be done highschool split off, their costumes bright and obvious as they head for the crowds. The first police cars are starting to arrive, and Jason turns, heading towards the front entrance.

"Does our intel still hold?" Jason asks.

"Emergency services have three people in the west wing's safe room on the line. No one in the east or north wings. East wing's going to have baddies, west wing probably has our big bad."

Jason takes a deep breath as they pass through the front entrance. Someone's used small explosive charges to blow the front security doors off their hinges, skipping most of the standard checks that secure the building.

"We're going to have to split up," Jason says. "Nightwing, put two of your people to guard the north wing."

The north wing is where all the other patients are located, and from what Jason can see seems both secure and ignored. It doesn't have the security room, and it doesn't have anyone dangerous, either. The only risk is that someone escaping from the east wing might head in and cause trouble, so he's eager to head that off as Dick starts snapping out orders, sending two of his people for the door. Jason's pretty sure one of them is Duke, but he doesn't have the time to think about that right then.

Thomas and Michael arrive just as Duke and his friend split off, and Jason glances behind him, giving them a quick nod.

"We're splitting up," he says. "West wing is administration. Staff should be in a safe room at the end of the first floor, security room is midway down the second. Staircase is right at the end. East wing has any prisoner who might be considered a danger. They should all be locked down in their cells, but we can't guarantee that if our target has already reached the security room."

Which they almost definitely have. Which means he needs to split everyone up in the most optimal way. The way that will keep everyone safe.

He wishes Bruce were there, but they don't have time to wait, and everyone's looking at him, waiting for directions.

This is why he was Batman.

"Nightwing, Batgirl, Azrael, and Robin are heading East. I'll take Nightwing's friend-"

"Dax," the kid says. "DaxAtax."

Jason does not comment on his terrible choice in codename.

"I'm taking Dax and Big Bat down the west after our suspect. Batman, when you're arrive, pick a direction based on reports."

Jason doesn't leave room for argument, just turns and heads towards the west wing, leaving everyone else to follow his orders or not on their own. 

Chapter 42

Mercifully, Thomas doesn't argue. Jason doesn't want him in a ward full of all their old villains, and he's betting on his ability to keep him from shooting whoever's in the security room. Thomas is a wildcard at best, and it's all he can do to keep his focus on the hallway as they run.

The security into the west wing has been bypassed the same way as the entrance to New Arkham itself: micro explosives blowing things away. No number of biometric scanners matter in the face of a hole in the wall, but it makes it significantly easier for them to follow.

"Empty," Jason reports to Barbara. "Hallway looks clear."

It's one great big L, and Jason's cautious as he turns the corner, Thomas and Dax just behind him. He doesn't like what he sees: a single body leaning up against the wall midway down.

He sprints towards it, hoping that he's not too late, and the body moves before he's even halfway there, the figure looking towards them, alarmed.

"Raptor," he splutters. He looks like a nurse, but he also looks like he's been shot, a puddle of blood under him as he clutches at his side. "Bat-" He stops himself, looking up at Thomas in alarm.

"It's fine," Jason says. "We're going to get you out of here. Dax-"

"I know first aid," he says. "Got a kit in my belt. I'll stem the bleeding and help him get out."

It's a quick and easy choice, and Jason's thankful for the very obvious fact that Dick's trained them for this exact sort of thing. 

"Oracle," he says, "one wounded in the west wing, just past the turn on the first floor. Sending Dax to the entrance."

"You'll have an ambulance by the time you reach the entrance."

Their communications are neatly segmented to keep there from being too much crosstalk, so he has no idea how anything else is going. It's a necessary part of the situation. He can't let himself get distracted with what's going on in the other wing, let alone at the house.

But it still makes him worry.

"Situation report?" He says as they head towards the stairs.

"Nothing you need to worry about right now. Security room is definitely occupied."

They reach the safe room before the stairs. It's a massive room, intended to be able to house every employee of New Arkham at once. The walls are all reinforced, there's no windows, and the door's secure enough that Jason's not sure Bruce could get through it in less than an hour if he tried, and no one's trying right then. There's small viewport, and someone's watching through bulletproof glass as they approach. There's no sound, but Jason knocks once anyway, bending a bit to let them get a good look at his helmet before showing them his palm.

Hold.

"Is the building secure for employees to evacuate?"

"Not yet," she says. "You're at the safe room? Tell them to stay inside until we know for sure, because without the cameras, I can't be sure."

"Big Bat," Jason says, and Thomas scowls at the name. "Tell them to stay so they can read your lips."

He expects Thomas to argue. He's obviously not used to being ordered around, and he has no real experience with the team's dynamic. But he does as Jason asks, leaning forward and mouthing the word until the man on the other side flashes a thumbs up through the slot.

"Stairs," Jason says, and they run for them.

The elevator is technically faster, but there's no way of knowing what floor the elevator was on when the emergency stop was hit. For that matter, there's no way of knowing if the elevators are even actually emergency stopped. The last thing they need is for the security room to screw with them, and considering their opponent probably has them on the security cameras, it's not a risk they can take.

It's only one floor, so Jason takes the steps two at a time rather than grappling up.

"What is our plan?" Thomas asks him off coms.

"No plan survives contact with the enemy," Jason says. "And we don't have enough information to formulate a proper plan. We go for the security room. We play it by ear. We adapt. That's why we're a smaller team."

It's possible there's not even anyone in the room, but Jason's not betting on it.

"Raptor," Oracle says in his ear. "You're probably going to run into David Cain. We believe it's his daughter in the east wing."

"What do I need to know?"

"Deathstroke, but not as good," she says. "You should be able to handle him solo. He's not prepared for you. Expect him to try and bolt when he realizes."

The security room has no windows, just the one door. It's a veritable fortress, but Jason's been handed the key. With Barbara having been involved in the facility's digital security, there's no way to keep her out, and he carefully pops the faceplate off the biometric scanner, plugging Barbara in.

"Contact," she says. "Your gloved hand will do, and the door will pop open immediately."

He glances back to Thomas, his guns in his hand.

"Non-lethal," he says. "I go right, you go left, we meet in the middle."

Thomas nods, and Jason slaps his hand to the panel. The door pops open, exactly as Barbara said, but Jason wasn't prepared for David Cain to be waiting directly on the opposite side of the door.

He bursts out the moment it opens, and Jason very nearly punches Thomas in the face as he swings for Cain, who ducks under both of them.

He expects Cain to run, but apparently the man has more pride than sense, because he immediately turns to engage them.

It's a bad choice. David Cain is undeniably good, and Jason can see why he'd be considered one of the best. But Jason's been training with Slade for years, and Slade isn't just good— he's the best. He's superhuman, and after having dodged superhuman blows for years, Cain seems downright sluggish. He fires two shots at Thomas, who blocks them with his cape, and Jason lashes out, knocking David off his feet.

He doesn't have any experience fighting with Thomas, but it's easy enough to find the right rhythm with him. They have similar fighting styles, favoring short, aggressive movements. Neither of them favors the more acrobatic style that Dick's got, or the more calculated style Tim favors. It's easy to box Cain in, countering him blow by blow as they force him to give ground until there's no ground left to give.

Thomas aims for his knee, forcing Cain to doge, and Jason lets that drive Cain right into his attack, bringing his foot down in a hard stomp. He's pretty sure he just broke something in Cain's foot, and the second it takes for him to pull away from Jason gives Thomas time to wrap his arms around Cain's neck, pulling him into a choke hold.

Jason pulls sedative autoinjector from his belt pouch even as Cain tries to free himself, and he slams it into Cain's neck, taking advantage of the exposed skin there.

He fights even as it starts to take effect.

"You're not bad," Jason says to Thomas, taking a quick breather to check his gear. 

"You're not bad yourself," Thomas says, shooting him a grin. He looks more relaxed, more in his element. "You handle the office, I'll secure Cain."

Jason doesn't hesitate to leave him behind as he ducks into the security office.

It's not a pretty sight. The whole place has been trashed bottom to top. The monitors are all destroyed, the keyboards damaged, and it looks like someone took a hammer to the server rack.

"Oracle," he says. "He's trashed the security room. It's going to take me way too long to figure out how to link you to this. Do we have a backup?"

"Third floor," she says. "Warden's office has on-site backups."

He darts back out to find Thomas zip tying Cain's ankles.

"I'm going upstairs," he says. "Can you double check the security room for anything I missed?"

Thomas gives a quick nod, and Jason runs for the stairs.

The third floor is a ton of offices, and there's no way he'd be able to find the Warden's office without Oracle's directions. When he does, he's relieved to see the door's not locked, and when he steps inside it's clear the Warden left in a hurry, no doubt heading for the first floor. There's papers all over his desk, and Jason heads straight for his PC, pulling the thumb drive Oracle's provided him and popping it into the proper slot.

"Connected," he says. "You should be online."

"Give me a half minute to just... make sure this is working. He might have more than one computer."

Jason scans the room, but there's only one computer, and it's the one he just plugged in. Scanning the room does make something else obvious, however: the warden's a collector. Both walls have display cases lining them, displaying pieces of what Jason can only describe as memorabilia. They look a lot like the evidence cases he's used to seeing at GCPD, only these are all inactive criminals, people who have died or left or... well, retired.

One of Slade's old swords is on the wall under glass, with Deathstroke written just underneath it. One of Deadshot's guns stands just beside it. He gives only the briefest glance to the Joker case—he doesn't want to see it, doesn't even want to look—but does pause at the one labelled Bane.

Inside is a teddy bear. He's not sure the significance of it, but it doesn't really matter. He knows he wants it. There's nothing rational about it, but he wants it anyway. To give it back. To have for himself. He doesn't know, and right then he doesn't really care.

"How long?" Jason asks as he carefully bypasses the lock on the case.

"Give me another minute," she says. "This is way harder than just using the security room, you know."

"How's Big Bat doing?"

"Didn't do any better than you," she says. "But I'm having him try something."

Jason helps himself to the teddy bear, tucking it into the small pouch on his belt that's supposed to be used for keeping evidence safe, and then closes the case behind him.

"Done," Oracle says. "You're good, west wing is secure."

"I'm heading for the east," Jason says as he leaves the room. "Update?"

"Not doing so well," she says. "The younger Cain is a lot more dangerous than her father, and everyone's out of their cells. They're getting overwhelmed, and I've told Dick's people to brace for potential escapees. Now that I have the security system, we should have a better picture of what's going on soon."

He reaches the stairs, hopping the railing and letting himself drop down to the landing below.

"We have patients in the main hall," Oracle says. "I've sealed the north wing, and Signal's fallen back to the front entrance."

Jason hits the second floor landing, going immediately to the railing to repeat the process.

"Jason!" Oracle says, her voice panicked.

He's already hopping the railing as his brain registers that she used his real name. Not Raptor. Jason.

"Jason, go back up the stairs," she says. "Please, just go back up!" She's pleading with him, absolutely desperate, but Jason's already on the ground floor.

Even as he straightens up he can already hear the whistling, a happy little jingle just like something out of the circus.

Chapter 43

Jason can't breathe. He can't think. He's heard that tune a million times and he never ever wanted to hear it again. He knows Barbara's talking in his ear, but he can't really hear her.

All he can hear is the whistling, getting closer and closer.

You don't mind if I whistle while I work, do you sweetums?

Barbara's still talking to him, saying something in his ear, but Jason isn't getting it. He can't process it, can't understand anything beyond the frantic beating of his own heart and the merry little tune.

He can't breathe. The helmet's too tight, and it suddenly feels like something that's been forced over his head. The part of his brain that's still grounded in reality thinks I'm hyperventilating, but that part of him is small and distant.

It has no power over him. Not right then.

He drags his helmet off, trying to catch his breath, but he can't. Every breath gets faster and faster. He knows how to stop it. He's done it before. Hyperventilation isn't much of a thing with him, but he still knows what to do just from his experience as a vigilante. Breath into your cupped hands. Hold your breath for ten seconds at a time. Alternate breathing through each nostril.

He makes only a weak attempt at the first and can't even manage that. He's in Arkham. He's in Arkham and in maybe ten seconds Harley Quinn is going to turn the corner and she's going to be there and it's happening all over again. He feels like he's being choked, like someone's suffocating him, and his brain is saying you fucking idiot you're hyperventilating over and over again.

Jason stumbles, crashing into the wall, and braces himself against it with his shoulder. He needs something. He has to steady himself. He has to stay upright because if he falls he's probably not getting back up.

His helmet's on the floor and he can't even remember taking it off.

Jason can't even get his breathing under control before Harley turns the corner, arriving at the foot of the stairs.

She's different: not the person he remembers, but something else entirely. She's thinner than she was, her skin not painted white but instead simply ashy. Her pigtails are gone, replaced by a ponytail at the back, and instead of a costume she wears a simple jumpsuit with Quinn stitched to the front.

But her face is the same, and when she sees him, his eyes wide and terrified, her reaction is immediate.

"Oh wow!" She says. "Guess it really is my birthday, ain't it? Getting my favorite little Robin delivered straight to me! And he's all big now, dressed in that great big suit."

Jason jerks back, pressing against the wall. She has a piece of wood in her hands. A table leg or something like that. He wonders how he missed it when he first saw her, but his brain isn't working right. He can't stop staring at her, can't stop himself from backing up. 

"It's great to see you again sweetums!" Harley says, her voice as high pitched and sing-song as ever. "We're going to have a ton of fun, just you and me. It's a shame my puddin' can't be here to help out, but that's just fine, we'll make do!"

His hip hits the far wall as she advances and bounces, his brain catching. Not his hip. The bear. The bear at his hip's up against the wall, pressing tight, and it feels like a kick to his brain. The bear. Bane's bear. Bane, apologizing. Bane, clapping him on the shoulder.

You were strong, even as a boy.

He's not that little boy. He's not in the bowels of Arkham. He's got half a foot and almost a hundred pounds on her. He could destroy her. Could tear her apart.

His breathing is still fast and erratic as she closes in, but there's more than just the blind panic. He can handle this. He's not a kid anymore. He's not the same person who she hurt.

He's better than he was.

"No," Jason says, his voice soft and raspy.

"Well that's just fine with me," Harley says. "We can do a refresher course!"

He can do this. He can handle this. He can handle Harley. He's telling himself that even as she hefts her makeshift bat, even as she swings up. He could have stopped her any time he wanted. He's had all the training in the world.

His body feels like someone else entirely. Like a puppet he's trying to control rather than being his own body.

"Batter up!" She yells and swings.

There is a deafening bang in the close quarters of the stairwell, and Jason stops being able to think at all. All he can do is stand there, watching as Harley drops like a rock.

Jason can't think. He can't move. He can't understand what's happening, can't wrap his head around it. His ears are ringing, but even so he can hear someone shouting his name.

Suddenly someone is in front of him, their hands squeezing his upper arms, and Jason has to furiously blink away tears to realize that it's not Bruce: it's Thomas.

"Jason," he says. "Jason, I need you to stay with me."

Thomas turns his head slightly, his eyes drifting as he focuses on his communicator.

"I've got him," he says. "He's with me."

Thomas's eyes flick back to him, and even beneath the cowl Jason can tell his face is twisted with worry.

Thomas is afraid.

There isn't any reason to be afraid, but he's afraid anyway.

"You shot her," Jason says. His voice feels like someone else's entirely. "You killed her."

"Jason," Thomas says. "You need to take deep breaths-"

None of what's happening feels real right then.

"I need to - I need to go," Jason blurts out. She's dead. She's dead and she's right there and he can't deal with it right then because the situation hasn't stopped just because he's having a breakdown. Everyone else is still in danger. Things are still happening.

He can't stand there and break down.

Bruce is proud of him. Slade is proud of them. He has a family. He has friends.

They're relying on him, and he needs to get out of there. He grabs his helmet and darts down the hallway, heading for the entrance. 

Chapter 44

There's chatter in his ears the moment he puts the helmet on, and he shoves everything he's feeling into a box in his head.

He has to come back to it later. He can't deal with it right then.

"Oracle," he says. "Situation?"

When Barbara speaks, she sounds shaken.

"Jason? I -"

"I need the situation," Jason says. "I need to know what's happening."

In a moment, Barbara's back to professional. In control. She, like him, knows how important what's happening is.

"Batman's just arriving," she says. "Several targets are in the main hall and he's engaging them. You're going to run into Two-Face immediately after you turn the corner, but he's unarmed."

Jason whips around the corner, catching Two-Face off guard. Harvey jerks back instinctively, and Jason goes immediately into one of Bruce's takedowns, using his momentum against Harvey to knock him flat.

"What-" Harvey sputters before the wind is knocked out of him, and Jason's already rolling him onto his side to zip tie his hands and wrists together.

Harvey's not putting up as much fight as he should, disoriented from the speed of what's happening.

"Stay," Jason snaps and runs for the main hall.

The first thing he sees when he bursts through the opening is that Bruce is horribly outnumbered. There's six people swarming him as he straddles someone on the ground, a knife in hand bearing down towards the figure below them. It takes Jason half a second to register that's not Bruce.

They look like Bruce. It's Bruce's face. But it's not Bruce.

Jason doesn't risk a batarang—they don't have decent weapons, and he's not going to give them any—so he settles for a simple tackle. His shoulder slams into Elliot, sending him flying back, and Jason dives for the knife before Elliot can grab it.

There's something unnerving about seeing Bruce like that, his face twisted with rage and anger. Even if it isn't Bruce, he looks just like him, and Jason has to stop and catch himself when he kicks out, his foot crunching into Elliot's nose and sending him falling back.

One of the other men comes at him—he's a big guy, but Jason doesn't recognize him—and he dispatches him with a blow to the torso as he scrambles to his feet. He needs to get rid of the knife (where the fuck did it even come from?) before someone gets it away from him, and as it is he's forced to keep it in his hand as he doubles back towards where Bruce is.

Bruce is trying to pick himself up, but he's still overwhelmed, and it's only when Jason presses in to make two of them back up that he's able to get to his feet. He doesn't look good. There's a thick smear of blood down the side of his face, and when Bruce speaks, there's something oddly stilted about it.

"Nice save," Bruce says, even if they're far from saved.

"Azrael's down," Barbara says in his ear. "Robin is carrying him out towards you, and I'm sending Signal back in to help clear the center and get him to safety."

Jason ducks under a sloppy blow from one of the men. None of them are particularly skilled, except for Elliot himself. The problem is simply sheer numbers. It's hard keeping Elliot away from Bruce—wounded even if he's not willing to admit it—while also fighting off five other people. Especially not one handed.

Duke helps turn the tide. One of the men takes an escrima stick to the head as he enters the fray, and Bruce topples Elliot right as Tim arrives, hauling Michael. Michael's either unconscious or close enough to it, and the last two of the remaining men go for him and Tim as they slip into the room.

Jason goes after them hard. He's not letting them jump Michael while he's down, and he crashes into them from behind, dropping both to the floor.

"Nice save," Tim says as he hauls Michael along, heading for the door. Duke joins Tim, ducking under Michael's other arm as he helps him towards the door. Bruce handles Elliot, and Jason goes for the other men, making sure they're all at a minimum disabled, if not outright unconscious.

"Lobby clear," Jason says. "Situation?"

"They can't take her down," Oracle says. "Knight could, but he's not going to be able to get there fast enough. Batman maybe, but..."

But he's injured, and his strength is flagging. Jason's not sure what actually happened, but he knows Bruce isn't going to go one vs one against someone holding off Tim, Dick, and a handful of other people at the same time.

Which means it's up to him.

Fuck.

"I'm going in," Jason says. "Batman's holding the lobby, but he's injured."

"I'm fine," Bruce says, but the slur is still there. Jason wonders if he has a concussion, or if there's something else going on, but he doesn't have time to do a full medical check. Bruce isn't dying, and he's standing without being aided, so he'll have to do.

Tim jogs back towards them, slapping Jason on the arm.

"Let's go," he says. "B, you're in charge here."

"Signal," Jason calls, handing over the knife to him as he grabs a telescoping baton out of his belt. He's pretty sure he's going to need it.

Bruce is already leaning down, zip tying everyone Jason hasn't gotten to as they head towards the east wing.

Jason can tell the situation is bad from the moment he clears the door. There's forty people housed in the east wing, and while plenty of them are back in their rooms (seemingly locked in thanks to Barbara), plenty more are loose.

The real problem is the blur of black and silver near the center of the wide hallway leading into the east wing. Cassandra Cain, if Jason has to guess, but they're sure as hell not stopping to let him take a look. They're in the middle of fighting Dick, and Steph's doing everything she can just to keep the remaining prisoners from rushing the lobby.

Fuck.

Jason hangs in the doorway, taking the situation in as Tim immediately wades in to help Steph. Dick and his opponent are blurs, graceful in a way that only Dick ever seems to be. They're exchanging blows, but they're not giving any ground, which strikes Jason as... off.

Even so, it's obvious they're not going to be able to take them. It's just not realistic. They don't show any sign of tiring, they haven't been injured, and there's almost twenty people trying to get around them to reach the lobby.

It strikes Jason as odd that she hasn't taken down Dick. She could, but she hasn't. Like she's playing. Or like she doesn't want to finish.

"Cassandra!" Jason yells. "Stand down, we've already got your father!"

There's absolutely zero reaction.

"She doesn't respond," Tim says quickly. "We tried talking to her. Totally nonresponsive."

Language barrier? Mute? Deaf?

"Nightwing, try signing at her," Jason says.

"Kind of busy!" Dick yells as he flips backwards, missing her fist by inches.

"Try!"

Dick makes an attempt, but he's not sitting still long enough. Even so, Jason's confident she must see what he's trying to do, only she's still not responding.

Fuck.

"A little help!" Steph yells, pulling back as she does. Tim surges forward, but it's a losing battle.

"I can lock the whole wing down now that we have control," Barbara says. "But you need to pull back."

Cassandra's supposed to be a good person. She's supposed to be a member of the family, one of the people who they were supposed to find. But so far there's no getting through to her, and Jason's brain is screaming as he tries to figure out how to stop her.

If they pull back, she's going to get away.

If they pull back, more people are going to get hurt.

How do they communicate with someone who doesn't seem to understand them? How do they co-

"Oracle!" Jason says, louder than intended as his head twists around, looking for a screen. Nothing. No screen. "We need to show her the video!" All he needs is a fucking tablet and he can't goddamn find one.

"Third door on your left!" Oracle says, sounding increasingly frantic. "It's open!"

He goes for it, and he's not the only one. He spots someone covered in burn scars—probably Firefly—going for the same room, and has to fend him off as he yanks open the door, slamming it behind him. It's some kind of security office, not a full fledged security room but a place for whoever's on duty to sit, and it takes him less than ten seconds to find a large tablet sitting on the desk.

"Oracl-"

"On it," she says. "It's synced to the system, so I can access it remotely."

If it fails, they're going to have to fall back, consequences be damned. They don't have another choice. He's already taking a huge risk trying to hold out this long, but he's so, so fucking desperate for a win. A real win. Not like-

He can't think of right now. Later. Later he tells himself, over and over as he bolts back out, hitting someone in the face with the door as he slams it open. The tablet's already in his hands, the video already queued up, and he holds the tablet high as he whistles, loud and long, to draw her attention.

It's the only thing he can think of, the only thing he thinks might convey something that words obviously aren't able to. It worked for him, letting him see what might have been. Helping him through that.

It might work for her.

He needs it to work for her.

Dick seems to catch on, and twists around, putting himself between Cassandra and Jason. It means she effectively has to look at the screen, and when she does, she falters for the first time since Jason's seen her.

There's no way to see her face beneath the mask she wears, but she's no longer a blur of motion. She falters, watching the young woman on the screen who looks just like her speak.

And then someone tries to jump her.

Her reaction makes it excruciatingly clear that she was holding back against Dick. She whirls, tossing the man who tried to grab her, and the battle shifts in a moment.

It goes from Dick trying to fight her while Stephanie and Tim try and hold back everyone else to Cassandra flipping directly into the crowd, vanishing from sight for just a moment. But the change is immediate, and there's no question in Jason's mind that she is—for some totally insane reason—disabling the prisoners and defusing the riot.

Jason wades in to help. He needs to do something, bouncing from target to target, and as the tide changes the crowd breaks.

The prisoners start to run. Some head for their own cells, and some simply run to get away from Cassandra, bolting for corners.

Three of Nightwing's team arrive at the doorway to help, zip ties in hand as they deal with those who are are already downed. As Jason corners Maxie and two others, all three simply opt to surrender, letting him handle them easily.

"Progress?" Jason says.

"Just a few remaining," she says. "A bunch more voluntarily returned to their cells and are locked in."

"Clear," Tim says in his ear a moment later.

"Clear," Stephanie confirms.

"Clear," he says himself. "Everyone restrained in the east wing."

He doesn't quite catch himself before he sags against the wall, pressing his head against the frame of a cell door.

Done. They're done.

"Oracle," he says. "Azrael and Batman?"

"Batman and Azrael are receiving medical treatment," she says. "Neither is serious."

His mouth feels dry.

"Thomas?"

"Coordinating with police to help evacuate employees," Barbara says. "I think... you should take a minute."

Jason presses his back to the wall, slowly sinking down.

"Not... a bad idea," he says, his head sinking down.

He's exhausted, physically and emotionally. He doesn't want to move. Doesn't want to think. And sitting right there, in the end he doesn't do either, staring at the wall.

The others give him space, and Jason allows himself to simply zone out the way he always used to.

Chapter 45

When Jason feels a hand on his arm, he knows it's Slade. This isn't the first time he's zoned out and been pulled back to reality by him, and he doubts it'll be the last either. Slade's an old hat at it, giving his arm a small squeeze before finally pulling at it. Jason responds instinctively, lifting to his feet as Slade pulls him into a hug.

"You alright?" Slade asks quietly, low enough they can't be overheard.

"Tired," Jason says, because he is. Even after zoning out for... he doesn't even know how long, he's still tired.

"Almost done," he says. "You think you can manage a bit longer?"

Jason nods, because he can. He's been through worse. Maybe that's the wrong thing to remind himself of, but he has, and he uses it to ground himself in the moment.

"What's the plan?"

"We're meeting in the lobby," Slade says. "Then Oracle's going to update us. Building's been cleared already."

The police are there when he heads back to the main lobby, milling about as they get the situation under control. None of them pay much attention to the vigilantes gathering in the center hall, and it's clear they all have other things to do.

Jason's mouth goes dry.

Bruce is there, his face still covered in blood, and Dick's helping prop him up. Azrael isn't, but everyone else is there, including all of Dick's proteges.

Thomas is standing just beside Dick, and Jason averts his eyes. He can't deal with it right then, but he's going to have to anyway.

"Alright," Barbara says. "Status report. Batman is only there because he threatened to suplex Nightwing if he tried to get him into an ambulance, but immediately afterwards he needs to get to Thompkins' clinic. Azrael is conscious but definitely has a concussion and is on his way to the clinic already."

"You don't know if he has a concussion," Tim says. "You think he has a concussion."

"Considering how he hit that wall? He definitely has a concussion."

"Focus," Bruce growls, and there's definitely something wrong with his face. His mouth isn't moving like it should be.

"There's no third location," Barbara says. "Jericho is en-route with Azrael now that the worst is over."

"Manor's fine," Slade says. "Balkan was the only suspect, and that was handled."

"Get to the important stuff," Dick says. "Metropolis?"

"Flash intercepted a convoy heading east out of Metropolis," Barbara says. "When Superman showed up, everyone involved surrendered immediately."

"Do we know the contents?" Tim asks.

"I'll get back to you on that," Barbara says.

"Alright," Slade says. "Keep tabs on the suspects for me."

"Friends of yours?" Bruce says, and Slade scowls.

"Stop talking," Slade says. "You're making your face worse."

There's bandages over Bruce's cheek, but there's also no doubt in Jason's mind that he's going to need a lot more than bandages. Tim's head tilts the way it always does when he's listening, and then he glances over to Stephanie.

"Batgirl," he says. "Can you take Signal and the rest of Nightwing's team and introduce them to Gordon? See if there's anything they can do to help with."

It's an extremely blatant dismissal, but Stephanie takes it with grace, giving a quick nod before snagging the rest of the team and heading for the door.

"Alright," Slade says. "What are we missing here?"

Thomas folds his arms across his chest, and Jason can't look at him. Things are going to crash down and he doesn't want them to. Everyone's happy. Everything went well. The damage is minor for how bad it could have been.

"Where's Cass?" Jason says, because every second they're not talking about it is a second he needs.

Slade looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed.

"With the police," he says. "She's cooperating. Steve's outside to help coordinate between Metropolis and Gotham."

Slade's eyes flick back to the group, and Jason knows he's not going to be able to drag it out any longer. Obviously Barbara's thinking the same thing, because she doesn't even try.

"When the police comb the building they're going to find a body," she says. "One fatality."

Almost in unison, everyone goes stiff, their eyes darting around. But almost immediately, their eyes find Thomas, standing firm, his arms folded. They know, even if no one's said it.

"Who?" Dick says.

"Quinn," Thomas says before Barbara can. "She went after Jason. I stopped her."

Tim's mouth drops open.

"Harley Quinn?" He hisses. "You killed Harley Quinn?"

Bruce's mouth is pressed in a grim line, and Jason knows he's preparing himself for a fight.

"There's nothing to talk about," Thomas says. "The decision's already made. You don't need a war council."

"Apparently we do," Slade says. "This isn't something you get to just make a unilateral decision about. You killed someone. There are consequences-"

"You don't," Thomas says.

Bruce's hand finds Jason's arm, and he gives it a small little squeeze as Jason tries to ground himself. The entire argument feels like it's happening somewhere else, and he keeps his mouth shut.

"Like hell we don't," Dick says. "There's going to be questions asked. This is - this is a big deal, even if you don't realize-"

"I understand that it's a big deal," Thomas says, bristling with annoyance. 

"Do you really?" Slade says. "Because now we're going to have to deal with the police, there's going to be an investigation, we have to deal with camer-"

"I'm turning myself in," Thomas says, and Slade stops his angry ramble mid-word.

The group is absolutely dead silent. All of them are staring at Thomas, and Jason is as well, struggling to understand. Trying to wrap his head around it.

"...What?" Jason says, the first to break the silence. 

"I don't regret what I did. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. But I'm not an idiot. I know the situation this puts you in. The Bats don't kill here, and now that they have a line has been crossed. If you don't take drastic action against the one who crossed the line, you're going to wind up with every cop in the state coming after you. So I'm taking it out of your hands. It's not your decision anymore."

"Thomas..." Bruce says, his hesitation obvious.

"It's easier this way," Thomas says. "No investigation, no questioning that would compromise your identities. I'm a stranger-"

"Thank you," Jason blurts before he can stop himself, and Thomas falters, eyes turning to him.

Everyone's looking at him, and Jason feels his face burn in a painful mix of shame and regret. Thomas is only there because he couldn't manage it. Because he froze up. Because he-

Thomas's hand is on his shoulder, and Jason doesn't even remember seeing him move.

"I should have waited," he said. "I could have done a lot of things to help the situation that didn't end this way. If I'd held off, I think you'd have been fine, but I couldn't take that risk."

Jason's eyes are watering, and the helmet means there's nothing he can do to help it. The only consolation is that no one else can see, even if he's sure Slade and Bruce know anyway.

"Tell your brother that I'll see him when this is all done, alright?" Thomas says. "Pretty sure I promised him I'd go see his cow."

Jason hugs him. It seems like the right thing at the time, because it's so painfully obvious Thomas is trying to reach out, even if it's clumsy and awkward. Thomas's hand lifts up, resting against his back in a little half hug.

"You did good," he says. "You saved a lot of people."

He breaks the hug, turning away, and Jason averts his eyes when Bruce pulls Thomas into a hug as well. He tries not to listen to what they're saying, to the quiet words being exchanged.

Slade pulls Jason into a hug entirely against his will, but Jason simply melts into it eventually. If someone thinks it's weird that the Gotham Knight is hugging Raptor, they can go fuck themselves for all Jason cares right then.

"Let's go home," he says.

"Batman-"

"Is going to an already crowded clinic with Robin accompanying him," Slade says. "And you need to go home."

Jason tries to bury his face against Slade's shoulder, but the helmet makes it hard.

"Home," Slade says. "Come on."

Slade sends one of Dick's people to deal with Jason's bike and pulls Jason onto the back of his own. Jason's not sure if he doesn't want to lose sight of him, or if he's worried Jason's not well enough to drive.

He probably isn't. He's blurry and unfocused, and the trip back to the manor seems to be over in far less time than it actually took.

There's blood on his gloves and blood on his helmet and Jason tries not to think about where that blood came from as they strip off in the cave.

"Jason!" Damian yells, zipping down the stairs towards them.

"Easy," Slade says, catching Damian before he can tackle Jason over. "Your brother needs some space." He lets Damian go for the hug anyway, but it's a lot less violent of an affair.

He showers in the cave, dizzy and unfocused as the last few hours slowly crash down around him. He doesn't remember going up the stairs, or even the walk to his room, but he remembers Slade leaning over him as he tucks him into Jason's bed.

"Go to sleep," he says. "And we can talk in the morning."

Jason sleeps, exhaustion winning over anxiety.

Chapter 46

Jason wakes to the soft sound of pages turning, and when he shifts in his bed the sound stops. Someone snaps a book closed, and he cracks an eye open, turning his head to look.

"Alfred," he says, and Alfred responds by pressing a bottle of water into his hands.

"Drink," he says. "You need it."

He drinks, and the water is some of the best he's ever tasted. By the time he sits up, he registers that something weird is going on, because it's still light, and...

"Did I sleep through the night...?" He says, glancing around in confusion.

"It's eight AM," Alfred says. "Fourteen hours. Quite the power nap, but no one wanted to wake you."

His head throbs, but the headache eases as the water does it's work. He's hungry, probably a little bit dehydrated, and more than anything else, anxious.

"I missed stuff," he says. "What did I-"

"Your therapist is waiting elsewhere in the mansion," Alfred says. "Slade thought it would be prudent to have him handy."

Hudson has never, in all their years together, come to his manor. He doesn't do house calls. That's a thing. And yet he apparently has.

Jason wonders how much money Bruce offered him, and then chides himself.

More likely Hudson came because they explained how bad it was.

"Alright," he says. "Let me just... I just need to change."

"Of course," Alfred says. "I'll set him up in Master Bruce's office."

He hangs his head under the water, but he doesn't try and scald himself. He feels almost human by the time he makes it to the office, finding Hudson settled into Bruce's chair, taking in the room.

"I hear you've had quite a day," Hudson says, giving him a half-hearted smile.

"Sorry about this," Jason says. "I know we just had a session-"

"Jason," he says, "please. I take phone calls for emergencies, and house calls for extraordinary circumstances, and I'm having a hard time imagining a circumstance more extraordinary than this."

He's not sure what Hudson can tell him that will help. He hasn't had enough time to process things, and time is probably what he needs the most. But there's comfort in having him there anyway, a reliable fixture of his life. He's a grounding presence. Normality.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Hudson says. "Or do you want to talk about something else right now?"

For once, Jason wants to talk about what happened.

"We... we knew someone was going to attack the house," Jason says. "But we were ready for it. And then... then Lonnie told us that someone was going to attack New Arkham."

Hudson doesn't seem all that surprised.

"I got that impression," Hudson says. "Your friend questioned Lonnie with me in the room, and we had a nice sit down chat about it afterwards. I imagine you'll have a lot to talk about with him at some point."

He does. Lonnie's tip was good, even if his motives aren't clear, and Jason doesn't want to think about what might have happened if they hadn't gotten that tip.

"So we... we split up. I went to New Arkham, because that was where we needed the most people..." He trails off, eyes fixed on Hudson's disapproving face.

"I couldn't not go," Jason says, feeling defensive. "If I didn't go and someone got hurt-"

"Jason," Hudson says, "I'm not angry you went. I'm angry that a situation arose that put you in a position where you had to not just address your trauma, but go swan diving into it. Someone afraid of spiders might get better by being around spiders and learning they aren't dangerous, but if you drop them face first into a swimming pool of them..."

He leans back in his chair with a sigh.

"It went well at first. We... a guy was bleeding out, one of the staff, and we got him to an ambulance." Barbara had said only one fatality, and he hopes it's true. "We got the security system back online, and I went to help with the fight, and I... I ran into her."

His jaw clenches so hard it aches, and Hudson doesn't ask who he means by her.

"I froze up," he says. "Eight years and I still froze up!" He's so goddamn angry with himself, so far beyond frustrated. Eight years and he should have known better. Eight years and he should have done better.

"Eight years, and it was your first time seeing her," Hudson says. "Eight years, but you haven't had time to deal with your feelings towards her."

"And now I can't," he says. "Thomas - he shot her. Because he saw her coming at me and he knew I was frozen so-"

"What Thomas did or didn't do isn't on you," Hudson says. "But if I'm being completely honest, Jason, I don't think that's the issue."

It's not. It's not and he knows it, and Hudson knows it, and Jason twists his head, looking away. He can't look at him.

"Thomas killed someone and I'm not even mad. I'm not even... I'm not even slightly angry with him. I'm happy, because it means she's gone. Because it means she can't ever hurt anyone again. I'm supposed to-"

His voice cracks and he buries his face in his hands. He's supposed to be better than that. He's not supposed to believe in revenge. He's not supposed to celebrate the death of anyone.

"Jason," Hudson says, his voice soft. "It's important, right now, to let yourself feel those emotions without judging yourself. It isn't wrong to feel happy."

"I'm supposed to - I'm supposed to be better than this!" He blurts, but even then he can only meet Hudson's eyes for a moment before he tears his eyes away. "She died because - because I froze up."

"That isn't how cause and effect work," Hudson says. "You freezing up didn't kill her. You froze up because you were faced with someone who hut you terribly, and because you haven't yet had time to process that."

"It's been years-" He tries not to sound hysterical, but he's sure he does anyway.

"Jason," Hudson says, his voice soft. He's too good at this, too practiced. He knows just how to say Jason's name to stop the hysterics before they start, and Jason's pretty sure that's the only reason he hasn't started crying yet. "Death has a way of dredging up things that would otherwise have stayed buried. If she had lived, I think we'd be having a much different conversation. So I want to focus not on what she did, or what Thomas did, but what you did. What did you do today? From the start."

"Saved someone," he says quietly. "I got - I made sure the staff member who got shot got help."

"And?"

"I - I stole the bear."

Hudson looks equal parts shocked and confused, the statement so totally out of the blue he has no idea how to respond.

"The... bear?"

"Bane had - he had a bear. It's a whole story. He had a bear and it was his only friend, and when I was in New Arkham, the warden had it. And I thought... I thought I should give it back to him. It was important enough he still had it, even as an adult, and I thought..."

"You thought he would want it," Hudson says. "He hurt you, but he also helped you heal, and he was the only one of the people who hurt you who did that. Who apologized. And you wanted to recognize that."

"Yes," Jason says. "Which is stupid, I'm never going to... I won't see him..."

He trails off, unfocused.

"What you want to do the bear can come later," Hudson says. "What matters is the emotions and the intentions of taking it. What else, after the bear?"

Jason trails his thoughts through the hallway.

"I forgot," he says. "I beat... We beat David Cain. Thomas and I did. He's a big... an assassin."

"And you've stopped him," Hudson says. "So he won't hurt anyone else."

He sees where Hudson's going with things, but he carries on anyway.

"I stopped... a lot of them. Harvey Dent. Firefly, I think. A bunch of people whose names I didn't even know. And I... I think I helped Bruce. He was... Thomas Elliot was on top of him, and I got him off, but his face was-"

He stops himself, fingers going up to run across his cheek. He hasn't seen Bruce since he left for the clinic. He's not sure how bad it is.

"You helped him," Hudson says. "You helped a lot of people."

Hudson pauses for a moment, and then leans forward.

"Right now," he says, "you're thinking that you haven't improved at all. You're thinking that you froze up, just like you did when you last saw the Joker. That you're no different then you were back then."

He is, and he swallows the lump in his throat at the idea.

"But you're not," Hudson says. "You've come a long way, Jason. One issue doesn't reset all the progress that you've made. It doesn't undo the things you've done. One of the most important techniques to help overcome your own trauma is to help others with theirs. It can give a sense of... of closure. Of positivity. But you're already doing that. You're already helping people. You just sometimes have a hard time recognizing your own achievements."

Jason sags back in his chair. A part of him is astounded he hasn't cried, even if it was close. He feels better than he did, and he takes a deep breath, following the rhythm Hudson taught him years ago.

"Try to, as you go through your day," Hudson says. "When you hear about things, let yourself recognize how you contributed to the positive outcomes. When they tell you about someone you saved, or the disaster that was averted, remind yourself that you had a hand in it."

He nods his head, squeezing his eyes closed. It's better. He's better. Both overall, and right then. He's sure as hell not good, but he's doing better.

"Thanks Hudson," he says. "For coming. Even though it was... probably short notice."

"I got almost twelve hours notice, actually," he says, cracking a smile. "More notice than half my appointment cancellations give me. I was happy to come and make sure that you were alright, because in terms of stressing over my patients, catching sight of you walking out of New Arkham in your armor was fairly high on my list..."

Jason manages a little grin at that. There's not much more to the appointment, and he makes a point of walking Hudson out to make sure he doesn't have any troubles. Slade finds him before they even reach the front door, offering Hudson a polite greeting but mostly giving them space.

They both say their goodbyes, and Jason stands on the front step until Hudson's car is through the gate.

He doesn't fight the hug Slade pulls him into. Instead, he just lets himself enjoy it. It's what he needs right then.

Chapter 47

Slade makes him eat before he'll let them talk about anything actually serious, and Alfred's clearly prepared. There's no big family breakfast—the house feels quiet—but Jason works his way through a table full of breakfast foods anyway.

"So," he says when he can't possibly stuff himself any fuller. "You going to tell me where everyone is?"

"Dick's gone back to Bludhaven," Slade says as Alfred lingers nearby. "Took his whole team with him. He wanted to stick around and give you the whole introduction, but I convinced him you were going to be out for hours still. He says he'll drop by sometime next week so you can get the full set of introductions."

"Bruce?" Jason asks, because Bruce's continued absence is concerning. Slade's wince at the question makes his stomach flip with anxiety. "He's alright?"

"He's hurt," Slade says. "He's still at the clinic. Doctor Thompkins wanted to keep him for observation."

"If he's hurt that bad-"

"He'll be back soon," Slade says, reaching out to rest a hand over Jason's. "Deep breaths."

He should have known something was wrong. He should have... he was all... all screwed up.

"He's got two broken ribs," Slade says. "Not entirely sure from who. And he has some damage to his face." He raises his hand, miming a quick slice across his cheek. "Elliot got him with the knife and did some serious damage. He's going to scar, and Thompkins thinks he's probably going to have some semi-permanent muscular damage."

He's going to scar. He's got permanent damage. If he'd been faster-

"No," Slade says, derailing Jason's obvious train of thought. "If you hadn't gotten Elliot off him, things would have been a hell of a lot worse than they were. You probably saved his life, which isn't exactly a thought I like. Things could have been a lot worse than they were."

"How bad is it?"

"Hard to say," Slade says. "That's why she wants him for observation. Side of his mouth isn't working the way it should. Might recover in time, or might not. Doctor says we should expect lopsided smiles for at least the near future."

Jason cracks a small, small smile at that.

"As if they're not already lopsided."

"No kidding," Slade says. "I said the same thing and she hassled me for it."

But it's not as bad as he feared. Broken ribs are nothing. Bruce is up and alert and probably irritated at being confined to the clinic. His face is... that's something he can think about later.

"Michael?"

"Broken clavicle," he says, "and a concussion. He'll be fine."

"Everyone else?' Those are the only two injures he knows about, but that doesn't mean those are the only two injuries period.

"Damian's with Bruce," Slade says, misunderstanding his question. "Tim's gone back home to Barbara. Thomas is..." Slade falters.

"In jail," Jason says.

"In jail," Slade confirms. "So is Cassandra, technically, only she's a minor, so that's a little bit different. Steve and Diana are wading into that legal clusterfuck right now."

"She's alright?"

Slade snorts at that.

"Doesn't have a scratch on her," he says. "Diana gave her the video of herself and she's been watching it on loop. She's... quasi-verbal. Doesn't seem to understand most of what's being said, and can't really talk, either. She understands at least some, though."

"What about Lex?"

"Oh," Slade says, his face splitting into a grin. "He is beyond arrested. I got Steve to put me on a conference call with the boys, lectured them for being fucking idiots taking a job like this, and convinced them to take a plea deal in exchange for them telling the government all about Lex and what he's been up to."

That's one less thing he has to deal with, and Jason lets himself relax a bit.

"Which was what?" He asks. "Because I never found out what they were actually convoying."

"Well," Slade says, "it was a convoy out of Metropolis. He had a lab set up in Metropolis, and he was moving it out into the county. Only then Clark started searching around Metropolis, and Luthor had to move up his schedule considerably. Things got rushed. So rather than having a specially trained team intended to keep us all busy, he had to hire the Balkan and the Cains to do it. Only part of the original plan that carried through was hiring the militia to handle the actual transport."

"None of this tells me what he was transporting," Jason says.

"Same thing Clark was looking for," Slade says, taking a sip of his drink.

Jason takes a solid five seconds to try and remember what it was Clark was even supposed to be searching for.

"Hold on," he says, spluttering. "A clone? You're telling me Luthor had a clone of Clark?"

"No," Slade says. "He had five clones, all held in stasis. Clark and the rest of the League are figuring out what to do with them right now."

Five clones of Clark.

"Jesus christ," Jason mutters under his breath.

"I had the same reaction," Slade says. "I got on Barbara's case about not telling us, and then when she did tell us I apologized, because if she'd have told us that mid-mission I'd probably have gotten blown up by my own explosives."

He tries to mentally sort through the list of everyone. Who doesn't he know about?

"Stuff here went fine?"

"No issues," Alfred says from behind him. "I've begun working with Billy-"

"Billy?" Jason asks, and Alfred smiles at him.

"Ah, Mister Wintergreen. He's assisting with coordinating the repair work on the manor. We're bringing outside contractors in, and obviously they need supervision. I think he's quite eager to be home, but more than willing to help out until things are more stable."

Ah. That's who he hasn't asked about.

"Joey?"

"Showering?" Slade guesses with a shrug. "He's around. Been helping me shuttle people around. Pretty sure I gave Bruce a heart attack sending him to drop off Damian at the clinic without his license, but I wasn't leaving you behind, either."

Slade pauses for a moment, looking Jason over.

"He was worried about you," he says. "Everyone was. I know you just had a session with Hudson, but...?"

"I'm fine," Jason says, before deciding that's not quite accurate. "I'm doing okay. Just worried about Bruce and Thomas and... everything."

"I'll let you know when Bruce gets back, alright?" Slade says. "I need to just check in on the contractors we've got patching the hole I put in the wall."

Slade gets up, bending down to kiss the top of Jason's head, and Jason grumbles.

"You always get affectionate when you're worried," Jason mutters to himself.

"Sure do," he says. "And you always put up with it because you know I'm worried."

"Guilty," Jason grumbles.

"I'll make sure he's taken care of," Alfred says. "I have some pie from last night he might enjoy."

"How did you make pie with the house under attack? How does that-" Jason starts, and then shakes his head. "You know what? I don't want to know. Keep your secrets."

Alfred simply gives him a sly smile, and then leaves Jason behind to go fetch his pie.

Chapter 48

Joey arrives, hair still damp, just in time for pie. His face lights up when he sees Jason, before it immediately falls, face twisted with worry.

Are you alright? He signs.

Jason's been given enough looks about answering I'm fine that he pauses, considering his words more carefully.

"Not dying or anything," he says. "Adjusting. I'll be okay."

Do you remember last night?

"I... barely remember reaching the mansion, honestly," Jason admits. "If we talked or anything..."

No, Joey signs. Slade said you probably wouldn't remember. He told me about what happened while we waited to see if you'd wake up. After about an hour he said you'd probably be out all night and got Alfred to sit with you while we took care of things.

Jason's relieved to hear that Slade didn't spend the whole night worrying over him, but then Slade always was particularly practical. There's too much to do for him to sit around, worrying over someone who isn't even hurt.

I've got strict instructions, Joey signs with a small grin. I'm supposed to force feed you ice cream and watch bad movies. Dick was very specific.

Jason snorts at that.

"Not surprised," he says. "Dick always did like leaving strict instructions before running off on his own."

Story of his life, isn't it?

But he lets Joey do it anyway. It's nice to have him around, nice to do something normal. They watch a movie with fast cars and a lot of explosions, and Jason lets himself zone out, sinking into the movie.

It feels like a real shame when Slade comes to get them, gently nudging Jason's shoulder.

"Bruce is about to get back," Slade says. "You want to meet him at the door?"

Slade asks it like it's a question, but it isn't. Even if he's enjoying the movie, he's not going to just sit around while Bruce gets home, and he hops to his feet, heading to the entrance.

Tim's there, which answers Jason's question about how Bruce was getting home, and he and Damian carefully unload Bruce from the back of the car, walking him up to the house with more delicacy than Bruce probably needs. The entire side of his face is buried in bandages, hiding everything from his jaw up to just below his eye.

"Looks worse than it is," Bruce says when he reaches the door, no doubt reacting to Slade's worried expression.

"If your ribs weren't broken, I'd elbow you," Tim says. "Stop talking."

"Father is not supposed to talk," Damian says. "If he talks, you are supposed to make him stop."

Bruce grunts and lifts his hands, signing carefully as he's ushered in the door.

Talking strains the muscle, he signs. I'm not supposed to put stress on it, or the scarring will get worse.

His signs aren't nearly as clear and fluid as Joey's, but they get the idea across.

Kissing is probably another thing that'll strain the muscle, but that doesn't stop Slade from pulling Bruce into a hug, leaning down to kiss him. Damian wrinkles his nose at the blatant show of affection, and Jason grins despite himself.

Bruce presses a hand to Slade's chest to ease him away, and then signs a quick message.

I need you to call a family meeting, he signs. Everyone.

"How everyone is everyone?" Tim asks. "Is this an all hands, or-"

Everyone, he signs. All the vigilantes.

"Dick's team?"

If they'll come, Bruce signs. Everyone.

There's a half dozen things the meeting could be about (or all of them, he supposes), and it says a lot that no one asks Bruce why.

"I'll let them know," Slade says. "We can have it tonight."

Damian assigns Jason the all important task of guarding Portia so she doesn't end up getting too close to the construction, so he spends the rest of the day avoiding any sort of actual work in favor of toting the cat around the manor. 

Diana and J'onn visit that afternoon, vanishing in one of the offices with Bruce and Slade for what he's sure are important business matters. Wintergreen takes the time to check in on him after lunch, and Joey spends almost the entire day with him, making sure he's not stressing himself too much.

"I don't need a babysitter," he says quietly when it's obvious enough what Joey's doing.

Pretty sure you do, Joey signs. Having someone around keeps you from going into a dark place in your own head.

"I can manage," Jason says. "I had therapy, remember?"

Not like I have anything better to do right now, Joey signs. Everyone's busy.

Everyone is busy. The house is a constant whirl of people going in and out, and people keep stopping by unexpectedly to talk to people or fetch things. Even Clark shows up close to dinner, making several apologies as he heads down to the cave with Slade.

Jason mostly keeps out of it. He's got enough going on without handling other people's problems. He doesn't watch the news, and he only gives his phone the attention required to text the group chat a I'm not dead, will check in later before he puts his phone away.

He doesn't mean to, but in the end he wanders down to the graveyard, with Joey at his side.

The grave's empty, but that doesn't stop him from standing in front of Thomas's grave anyway, and when Joey nudges his arm he glances over his shoulder, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

He's not dead, Joey signs. You'll see him soon.

"I know," Jason says, tearing his eyes away. He can't look at Joey right then. "Just kind of feels like he is. Like I... lost him."

Joey rests his hand on Jason's arm, but he doesn't seem to be actually trying to get his attention, so Jason simply ends up staring at the grave anyway.

He spends almost a half hour there before Joey pulls, towing him away from the grave before he can any deeper to that dark place in his head.

Let's get dinner, Joey signs, and Jason nods.

Dinner that evening feels subdued. Thomas's absence feels like a physical weight, but the fact that Bruce is being forced to consume his meals through a straw by Alfred makes things from getting too grim. Even with the context of why, there's still something undeniably funny about watching Bruce Wayne sip his dinner through a straw while sulking.

When dinner's over, Jason heads down to the cave. He's the first one there, and there's something almost refreshing about that, but he's not alone for long. Damian comes down not long after, helping Jason organize, clean, and repair the gear that was used the day before.

Tim and Barbara show up early to check in on them, and Jason tolerates some excessive worrying from Barbara without complaint. Tim lets him know that they've left Jackson with a sitter, and joins in on the sorting.

After that, people come in ones and twos. Joey comes down from the manor to visit, letting them know that Steve Trevor's shown up with a small group to talk to Bruce. Dick arrives with Duke and his gaggle of teenagers, who all come in costume and seem alarmed to find that everyone else is in civilian clothes.

"Pretty sure I'm overdressed," Dax says, pinching at the material of his (obviously homemade) costume.

"You can keep them on or not. We don't really care either way," Tim points out. "Once you've waded into a life or death situation with us, we can pretty much trust you aren't going to screw us over."

"On my honor," one of the girls says.

"I'm Jason," he volunteers, offering his hand, and Dax is the first one to take him up on it, even if they've already technically done introductions.

"Raptor, right? Thought I recognized you, but..."

"That's me," he says. "I was the second Batman, before they semi-retired the mantle."

The rest of the group piles in for introductions. The girl who did crowd control is Riko, and the boy who went with her is Dre. The last two introduce themselves as Z and Shug, and Jason completely gives up on trying to figure out what's a name and what's a codename.

Michael arrives with his arm in a cast, looking worse for the wear. Jason holds off on the hug considering his injury, but does make very sure Michael knows how happy he is that he's alright. Steph shows up a little bit later, apologizing for being late, and the group mostly makes smalltalk, getting to know the new arrivals.

"So who are we missing?" Z asks. "I guess... Batman and the Gotham Knight?"

"They'll be down," Jason says. "You might also get Alfred, depending on how serious they think it is."

The fact that Alfred coming down to sit in is on the table is concerning, but there's no telling what the meetings really about. To tell them about Thomas? That's where Jason's proverbial money is, but he's not nearly as confident in that thought as he'd like to be.

Too much happened in too short a time.

In the end, there's no telling what Bruce wants to talk about, and all he can do is wait.

Chapter 49

Slade, Bruce, and Alfred descend the stairs close to midnight. It's been hours, and while Jason feels like he's got a pretty good feel for Dick's team, he's beyond restless. He wants to know what they were talking about. He wants to know what was going on.

"Woah," Shug says under their breath. "Bruce Wayne."

Shug isn't the only one surprised to see him, although the reactions vary. Some seem excited. Others, like Dax, look distinctly uncomfortable as Bruce settles down in a seat at the head of the table, with Slade standing just beside him.

"Bruce can't talk right now," Slade says. "So we discussed what he wanted to talk about, and I'll be talking for him."

Bruce's scowl makes it obvious, even through the bandages, that he isn't happy with the state of affairs. Even so, he doesn't actually argue, and something about that fact makes Jason's stomach churn.

"This," Slade says, turning to the computer and pulling up a rather grisly looking image, "is the state of Bruce's face yesterday evening." The image is bad enough Jason can barely even tell what's going on, and it's not until Slade taps the keyboard, jumping to a far more cleaned up image that he can tell what he's looking at.

The damage is a lot worse than he thought. The cut's thick and deep, and when Slade taps the keyboard again, advancing to an image with clear stitches pulling the edges of the wound closed, Jason knows that it's going to scar.

"The best plastic surgeon in the world says it's going to scar period. With good wound care, the scarring will be minimal in time, but it's still going to scar. I'm sure you can all figure out why this is an issue."

Riko hesitantly raises her hand, and Slade raises an eyebrow.

"We're not in class," he says. "You can just talk."

"He couldn't ever wear a cowl," she says. "But..." She trails off, glancing towards Z, who finishes her thought for her.

"The fact that Batman got stabbed in the face is effectively common knowledge. There's dozens of photos of him coming out of the hospital bleeding from that place, and people are going to get... I mean, really suspicious if Bruce shows up with a similar injury."

"Yes," Slade says. "Right now, the fact that Bruce Wayne could be Batman is considered a conspiracy theory. It goes against the common sentiment—that Bruce Wayne hired the first Batman, generally believed to be me—but it's still relatively common in itself. People have suspected the identities of other members of the family in the past, but the fact is that there are so many of us with so many inconsistent identities that it's hard for most people to pin down."

Jason knows, because he used to look them up. Used to laugh at what people got wrong and what people got right. Some people are convinced there was only ever one Robin. Others put the number of Robins as high as seven. He's never seen anyone link the Arkham Knight to Raptor, but he regularly sees people connecting the Arkham Knight to the Gotham Knight simply by names alone.

"I think it's-" Bruce starts, only to get pinched on the shoulder by Slade. He yelps and goes quiet, glaring up at his husband as Slade smiles serenely down at him as if he didn't get a bruising reminder to keep from moving his mouth.

"Bruce and I both talked," Slade says, "and in the end, I think it's time for this all to end. For the end of Batman, but also for the end of Gotham's vigilante community as it stands."

The reaction is instantaneous, but far from uniform. There are a few What?!'s from the group, and a barrage of confused noises. Jason understands now why Alfred is there, and finds it's easier for him just to be quiet, turning the idea over in his head. Retiring. Retiring from everything.

"I think we all know that Gotham's far from the place it was when Bruce started," Slade says, eyes moving from person to person. "It used to be that you couldn't go three blocks without running into a hostage situation. Now, it's not uncommon to spend the whole night without running into a single crime. It's still happening, but what's happening isn't stuff for us to handle. It's stuff for the police, for Gordon and his men. Gotham's streets are a thousand times safer than they were when we started all this, and our patrols are getting thinner and thinner. At this point, I think we've been feeling the need to justify our existence to ourselves."

Jason has. He knows he has. He has to justify why he's spending his nights on rooftops every time he looks down at a convenience store robbery that's already being handled by the police. Every time he gets home after a long night of nothing.

He's obviously not that only one, because the room's gone silent.

"We were contacted by officials from... several government bodies who are responding to the situation yesterday. Without naming names, someone-"

"Luthor," Jason says, and there's a round of laughter as Slade rolls his eyes.

"Yes, Luthor, but I wasn't supposed to say his name, Jason," Slade says with a small huff. "Luthor was responsible for what happened yesterday. He hired two assassins to attack both the Manor and New Arkham, and hired a group of mercenaries to transport some goods which are top secret and which we are not going to name." He stops, giving Jason his very best I'm not kidding about this look before continuing. "The problem is that Luthor is one of the richest people in the world. He has some of the best lawyers in the world. And even if this was a far sloppier job then he's generally involved in, he's still hard to connect to this crime."

"You can't tell me he's going to get away with this," Dick splutters. "People got hurt. If we hadn't responded when we did-"

"He's not going to get away with it," Slade says. "We're not going to let him. Which is why we were contacted by the officials. ARGUS, the DEO, the FBI, state justice department, federal justice department... This is the big leagues. Part of that is that in the goods transported, we found prototypes for the circuitry that the Court of Owls used to control their Talons. We've known there was a fourth partner involved since the night of the owls, but we never had a solid lead on who handled the technology side of things."

"Until now," Bruce says quietly, and Slade doesn't pinch him quite as hard the second time around.

"So Luthor was involved in that?" Barbara says. "That's... I want to say it's ridiculous, but it makes a lot of sense. He'd have the capabilities to both design and produce those circuits."

"The people who dealt with the fourth party on behalf of the court are all dead," Slade says. "A fact which Waller finds suspicious. No one in the court can name names, and none of the mercenaries or assassins involved dealt with Luthor directly."

Joey frowns at the mention of Waller, but Jason's more focused on the end goal. How the hell do they put Luthor behind bars?

"Alright," Jason says. "You've got me. How do we connect the dots?"

"With Michael," Slade says, nodding to the other man, and Michael's brows furrow together.

"Me?" He says. "I don't know anything about Luthor."

"We've been checking back through our files on the Order," Slade says. "The control circuitry used to control you was almost identical to what was found inside the Talons, but less refined. Prototypes, in other words. Your old sword was the same way. When we looked it over, we found what we needed."

He turns to the computer, and then flips through a series of photos. Azrael's old sword. The sword's handle, split open to reveal the circuitry inside. And then...

The Lexcorp logo.

"Someone was sloppy," Slade says. "I don't think we'd have thought much of it if we'd found it back then, but knowing what we do now? This isn't an off the shelf chip. This is one of their R&D models. You'd have to be in the company to have access to this. You'd have to be near the top."

"It's still not a slam dunk," Michael says. "Not really."

"No," Slade says. "It isn't. But considering Luthor's iron control of the company, it's a pretty large piece of evidence. Cain isn't going to be much help, but the mercenaries might be able to connect things back to Luthor as well. The point is to stack the pile against him."

"None of this connects back to what you said at first," Damian says. "About... not being Bats anymore."

Slade goes silent for a moment, his lips pressed together, and Jason gets the impression that he doesn't want to say it more than anyone else does. Even if he believes it's right, that doesn't mean it's easy.

"They want Bruce to testify," he says. "They think that with the evidence they've gathered, some of what they hope to get, and Batman taking the stand to help connect the dots, the public will be convinced. They already have a judge willing to allow a search warrant if Batman will testify. No one wants to cross Luthor for anything less."

"And if Bruce goes," Tim says, "we all go. There's no way he could reveal his identity without making everyone else pretty obvious."

"Yes," Slade says. "Which is why we brought everyone here. This would... impact your lives, for many of you."

"I'm not disbanding my team," Dick says, and there's five nearly identical sighs of relief. "Gotham is a lot better, but Bludhaven isn't at that point yet. None of them are connected to you guys, and they're only barely connected to me. They can continue to operate as they are without risking things."

"You probably can't," Slade says. "Especially not..."

Jason grimaces at the realization. Dick's a part of Bludhaven's police department, and even if he's never abused that, it'll be hard to convince anyone of that.

"I thought about leaving the force already," Dick says. "This just moves up my timetable. I had some plans in mind."

"I want this to be unanimous," Slade says. "I'm not going to force anyone into this."

"Hard to say how people are going to react," Tim says. "I've thought about... about stepping down from Robin before this. It's hard balancing my nights out with having a family, and... Honestly, this sort of just takes a load of my mind. I'm for it."

"I agree," Barbara says. "I'd still like to... make myself available as needed, if Dick wanted to train someone to coordinate for his team, but being able to sleep the night through would be a relief."

"Dick?"

"I'm fine with it," he says. "If everything was totally even? I think I'd want to stay as Nightwing. But I'm not going to let that asshole get away with this, and I can find other ways to... to make a difference."

Making a difference sounds... It sounds nice.

"Stephanie?"

"I... don't really want to retire," she says. "But I think that option is still open to me. I'm almost done with college, and when I am, I can always choose to move to Bludhaven and pick things up there. It is one of the places I considered moving anyway. As long as I grab a new identity, that's fine, right?"

"I don't have an issue with it," Slade says. "I'd say even being Batgirl is fine, but I'd be worried about someone connecting the two of you. Right now you're low on the list of 'obvious connections to Bruce', and if you lie low for a year or so, you shouldn't have an issue."

"My grades will thank me too," Stephanie groans.

"Joey?"

Joey looks genuinely surprised to be called on.

I haven't even been here two weeks, he quickly signs. I don't think I get a say.

"It'll make you a lot more public," Slade says. "So you get a say."

Then I'm fine with it, he signs. I'm not attached to being Jericho that much anyway.

"Michael?"

Michael doesn't answer right away, taking a deep breath, and then simply shakes his head.

"Retirement sounds fine," he says. "As it stands I wouldn't be able to do anything for months anyway, and it's not like my job's at risk."

He offers a small grin to Jason at that.

Slade doesn't say Damian's name, but he does turn to him, and Jason notes the intense expression. Damian clearly isn't happy with it, and he's not surprised: when Damian arrived, he did so with the express purpose of becoming Robin and taking up a position as a vigilante.

"I will retire," he says to Jason's immense surprise. "Superboy told me he was probably going to be too busy to do anything anyway. There are other things I could be doing. Things which do not involve staying up late, beating up criminals. And I..." Damian trails off for a moment, eyes dropping down. "I do not want to see anyone else get hurt."

Jason can't stop himself from leaning over, wrapping an arm around his youngest brother and pulling him in close. Damian doesn't protest, even if they're in public, curling against Jason's side as Jason drags his fingers through Damian's hair.

"That just leaves you, Jason," Slade says.

It isn't a question. Not really. Not with everything at stake.

"It'll be an adjustment," he says. "But... I think it is time that we stopped. That we let Gotham handle itself. And if something really bad happens, the suits are always going to be waiting for us. But for day to day... we can help in other ways."

At work. In the community. There's a million and one ways that don't involve weekly patrols, even if a part of him aches at the idea of giving up what he worked so hard for.

"You should all be proud of the difference you made," Slade says. "For what Gotham's become."

"How long do we have?" Dick says. "Because I think I'd want to turn in my resignation before we... go public."

"DEO's pushing for a press conference and simultaneous raid on multiple Lexcorp holdings tomorrow morning," Slade says. "The longer we take, the more time he has to cover things up. The only reason it's not happening tonight is because Lex made sure he was out of the country when this all went down to give himself a level of deniability."

"There's still a lot he could do, even remotely," Barbara says. "He could be deleting things right now-"

"Unfortunately," Slade says with a small smile, "he's mysteriously lost his connection to the internet, and his phone line's dead. He'll just have to wait until he gets back to handle all that."

Jason has no idea how they managed that, but then he's also not sure how they hell they managed to get Amanda Waller to play nice with so many other people.

"Then I'll go tonight," Dick says. "Give them... some warning." He drags his fingers back through his hair, dipping back in his seat. "Hooo boy am I not looking forward to this."

"Everyone else," Slade says, "press conference at ten. You'll have friends and family seating up near the front."

"Happy I called in sick for the week," Tim says. "Ugh, my students are going to go bonkers..."

Jason wraps his arm a bit tighter around Damian, letting his eyes drift close as the conversation washes over him. There's a million things to do, but right then all he wants to do is rest.

There will be more to do in the morning, but right then he's content.

Chapter 50

It doesn't feel real that night as he goes to bed, staring up at the ceiling. It doesn't even feel real the following morning. Being a vigilante has been a major part of his entire adult life. He hardly remembers a time before it.

Tim and Barbara arrive early the following morning with Jackson in tow, and they're both look equal parts nervous and excited.

Jason has a million questions he can't bring himself to ask, but Damian has no such hesitations.

"So people are going to know I'm Shrike?"

"You'd be the hardest to hide," Barbara points out. "It's not like they could mix you up with anyone else."

"Are they going to know why I'm Shrike?" He asks, and Jason's pretty sure he means are they going to find out about the League of Assassins?

"No," Slade says. "They don't need every detail. We're not doing interviews, we're just not pretending this is all a big coincidence."

"Are we still going to have the cave?"

"The cave isn't going to stop existing," Slade says, sounding exasperated. "The Justice League still exists, and we might still be needed for larger threats. The police can handle muggers and robberies. They're not prepared for things like the Court of Owls."

"Diana-" Bruce starts, stopping himself when half the table turns to level glares at him.

Diana is working on the details, Bruce signs, grunting in frustration. 

"Maybe I'll move to Bludhaven," Damian says, "if I find that being retired doesn't suit me."

Bruce grunts at that, but it's not a no, either. Damian's too young to be off on his own, but visiting Dick probably isn't out of the question.

"I'm looking forward to not having to come up with explanations for weird bruises," Tim says, popping a bit of toast into his mouth.

I'm not looking forward to this at all, Bruce signs.

"Bruce is just sulking because he doesn't get to announce it," Slade says. "Mostly because I won't let him."

"Wait, you're doing it?" Jason asks, sitting up straight. "Not Bruce?"

"Bruce can't talk," Slade says, "and we're on a time limit. He's writing a speech."

I'm done writing, Bruce signs. I stayed up last night.

"Which was bad," Slade points out, "but I'll allow it this one time."

Bruce makes a gesture at Slade which is definitely not a part of ASL.

"Wow," Tim says. "That bad?"

"Master Bruce has refused his painkillers," Alfred says. "I believe he wishes to be completely clear headed for this morning."

"Stupid move," Wintergreen says. "This sort of press conference would be a lot more enjoyable if he was off his gourd."

"So who's staying behind?" Barbara asks, ignoring the entire conversation about whether or not Bruce should be taking his painkillers.

"I will be staying here to babysit Jackson," Alfred says. "Mister Wintergreen has kindly agreed to stay and help oversee further repairs."

"How are those going?" Jason asks. He hasn't had a chance to give the guest wing so much as a glance. For that matter, he never even saw the damage in the first place.

"The outside wall's patched," Wintergreen says. "They're repairing the look of it today. Painters tomorrow. You'd be surprised how many people go from 'I have space next month' to 'I can come today' when Wayne's name gets dropped."

"I wouldn't be surprised at all," Jason says. "I'm used to it."

Wintergreen laughs at that, and he tucks into his food, obviously eager to finish it up.

"Joey?" Slade says. "You can stay if you'd like, or you can go."

I wouldn't miss this for anything, Joey signs. This is the kind of stuff that shows up in history textbooks.

"If you think this is bad, you should have seen the last press conference Bruce held..." Slade says.

It still doesn't feel real as they file into a veritable fleet of cars to make the trip down to City Hall. The situation's slightly chaotic, but Slade obviously knows right where to go, because he guides them around to some designated spaces where Gordon's already waiting. Jason's expecting him to be exhausted after everything that's happened, but instead he seems full of energy.

"Looking forward to this?" Slade says with a raised eyebrow once everyone's out of their cars.

"Are you kidding me?" Gordon says. "I've been waiting for this since Tim and Barbara first got married. Even more so when Jackson was born."

Why are there so many people? Bruce furiously signs, craning his neck to get a better view of the situation in front of town hall.

"Bruce," Jason says, unable to stop himself from sounding exactly as exasperated as he feels. "The last time you held a press conference you announced the existence of non-human sapient life, aliens, Atlantis, and magic. You could hold a press conference about your insurance rates and every newspaper in the country would send a reporter."

But it's not just reporters out front. The area's divided up, with a row of chairs for them on one side and a row for public officials on the other. The new city council. An empty seat for the mayor. Jason spots Diana, Steve, and the rest of the Justice League on the far side from them, and resists the urge to wave and draw attention. Behind them is the Gotham Press corps, and behind them the rest of the media.

It's what's behind them that draws Jason's attention, because there's an absolutely massive crowd of what looks like ordinary citizens.

"One of Gordon's guys can get you to your seats," Slade says. "I've got to haul Bruce over to talk to the mayor."

Gordon flags down one of his officers to escort them through security to their seats, which draws a whole wave of attention from the people already gathered for the conference. Jason sinks down into his seat, checking his phone for the first time since everything went down.

Jason: Sound off. Who's here?

Amina: Is that even a question?

Harper: Hate to tell you, but Michael emptied home office to get us all out here. Is this what I think it is?

Jason: Depends on what you think it is.

He doesn't get a chance to see what it is that Harper thinks it is, because the mayor reaches the stage moments later. Jason tucks his phone away, trying to look mildly professional as Andrew Wilson reaches the podium, stepping up to adjust the mic. He spots Gordon, Bruce, and Slade following not far behind, and Jason's sure that almost everyone in the audience is too busy staring at the bandages on Bruce's face to pay much attention to what the mayor is saying.

"Thank you to everyone who came on such short notice," Andrew says, seemingly very aware of the fact that people are only half listening to him. "My name is Andrew Wilson, Gotham's mayor. Bruce asked me to introduce this press conference for him. As I'm sure many of you have noticed, Mr. Wayne was injured and is currently unable to speak. His husband will be giving the speech on his behalf."

He steps back, waving Slade and Bruce up, and the crowd falls silent. Jason's close enough to catch about half of what Bruce is signing to Slade—mostly reminders to stand up straight and be professional—before Slade clears his throat, adjusts the mic, and gets down to it.

"I'm sure most of you know me," he says, "and I'm sure all of you know my husband. For those watching at home, my name is Slade Wilson-Wayne, and my husband is Bruce Wayne-Wilson."

Jason can practically hear Slade's there will be a test after this joke coming, and apparently so does Bruce, because he nudges Slade in the ribs to keep him from making it.

Slade clears his throat and makes an attempt to be professional, his eyes flicking down to where the speech Bruce wrote is.

"Really it should be Bruce doing this," he says. "Of my many skills, public speaking isn't one of them."

Jason figures Slade has maybe five minutes tops before Bruce throttles him on stage.

"So I'm going to go off script," Slade says, and Jason readjusts his mental counter to two minutes. "Most of you have already figured it out, and are wondering why Bruce is up here with his face all bandaged if he's trying to hide it. So I'm here to tell you that he's not: the public perception that I'm Batman is wrong, because Bruce is."

Jason buries his face in his hands to stop himself from cracking up at the look of sheer horror on Bruce's face at how Slade's delivered the announcement.

It's not quite the sheer level of insanity that happened the last big press conference they held, but the response is still pretty noisy. Even if it's a truth that so many people have known, hearing it said out loud is something else.

When Jason looks around, he realizes he's not the only one cracking up. Dick has tears in his eyes, and Joey's clutching his stomach, body shaking in silent laughter at Bruce's reaction.

"I'm not done, for the record," Slade says as Bruce buries his face in his hands. "I'm sure a lot of you are wondering what the hell happened yesterday. Commissioner Gordon will be handling that announcement, right after this one, and giving you all the details he's at liberty to share. This confrence is instead to confirm what so many of you have known, and in addition to announce our retirement. Gotham doesn't need a pack of vigilantes patrolling night after night. It's grown beyond that. So this is the end of us."

Slade is never going to live down how badly he's handling the whole speech, and apparently Gordon's thinking the same thing, because he all but shoves Slade out of the way, sparing the press core any further lines to quote until the day they die.

"Weren't we getting name dropped?" Tim asks him, leaning over.

"Thought so," Dick agrees. "Maybe not? Maybe he changed his mind?"

"Or father had it in his notes, and our stepfather forgot."

Jason's putting his money on the latter.

Gordon clears his throat, adjusting his glasses quickly as Slade slides back to get a silent ASL lecture from Bruce.

"I'm sure Mr. Wayne would prefer to give this speech himself, but since he can't, I thought it'd be nice to have something prepared. I wasn't commissioner back when Batman first showed up in Gotham. I was just a cop, struggling to work within a system that was deeply stacked against any kind of improvement. Gotham had one of the highest crime rates for a city it's size, some of the most deeply entrenched corruption in both our political system and justice department, and if you asked anyone what the smart move to make was, they'd have told you to leave, because Gotham was a lost cause.

"But one man didn't think it was. One man wanted to help. People can—and will—debate until the sun goes out about whether or not Batman's vigilante work helped the city or not. I'm here to tell you that it did, even if it probably isn't in the way most people talk about. People from outside of Gotham will talk to you about recidivism rates and the rise of supercriminals, but people from inside Gotham will all tell you the same thing: Batman didn't save us from criminals by himself. Batman gave us hope. Batman let us walk the streets with the hope that someone would come save us if we were in trouble. Batman let us believe that things were getting better. That belief saved Gotham. That belief let us push forward and make things better."

Jason squeezes his eyes shut. It feels real then, listening to Gordon speak. It's over. It's ending. When the speech finishes, the book will close and he won't be Raptor anymore. He'll be Jason again.

Just Jason.

"Having Batman there helped me believe that Gotham's police department was worth saving. It helped me believe that a change could be made. Gotham now has one of the most strict internal affairs departments in the country, and has some of the highest standards. Other departments used to transfer their worst officers to Gotham to be rid of them. Now, taking a position in Gotham means something. It means being part of something better.

"I think most people in Gotham have a story like that. A story about how Batman's presence helped them, whether directly or indirectly. Everyone has a friend who got saved by a vigilante. Everyone's seen their work. Countless lives have been saved over the years by Batman and his team. We've seen their work during incidents at the Blackgate prison riots. At the old Arkham Asylum breakouts. During the incident with Arkham City. But also even more recently: During the Night of the Owls, and now during the attempted breakout at New Arkham. Gotham wouldn't be what it now if not for Batman and his team."

Gordon pauses, and Jason catches sight of a small smile on his lips.

"I figure that if the press are going to swarm them all, I'd rather they get the thanks they deserve first. So if I could have Miss Prince come up and announce them, that'd be nice."

Gordon steps back, and Diana stands up. She looks surprised, but covers it after a moment with her normal cool composure as she hops up onto the stage. It's clear how unscripted it is that she actually hops up rather than taking the stairs, and there's a murmur through the crowd. Diana mostly leaves the talking to Bruce, but she's not exactly a stranger either.

"Hello!" She says, sounding enthusiastic. "I didn't think this day would ever come, but here we are. I agree with James Gordon: the people who have worked alongside Bruce deserve recognition for the parts they've played. I have my hopes that many of them will join us on the Justice League in the weeks to come, but before that I suppose I should tell you who they are."

Jason's pretty sure she's looking at him when she says it, but it's hard to tell.

"Oh crap," Dick says under his breath. "Are we about to get called to the stage like this is some kind of high school graduation?"

"Could you all come up here?" Diana says, answering Dick's question.

Jason glances up and down the line, and then decides that the answer is yes.  When Jason spots that Joey's stayed sitting, he makes a come on gesture to him, only to have Joey wave him away, staying firmly in his seat.

There's some shuffling as they head to the stairs, with Slade walking over to simply lift Barbara up onto the stage without making her circle around to the ramp at the back, and then they loosely assemble into a line, with Bruce at the head. There's something impossibly surreal about the entire process. About standing beside the people he's been fighting beside for years in public, without masks, in front of everyone. In front of the world.

"You already know Bruce Wayne-Wilson," Diana says. "To his right is his husband, Slade Wilson-Wayne. He's been operating as the Gotham Knight, and is a member of the Justice League."

Jason's not expecting much of a reaction. He sort of assumes Diana is going to just go down the line and call it a day. But Gotham has other ideas. The foreign press keeps things subdued, but when Slade's title gets announced, there's an explosion of noise. People are whistling and clapping and outright yelling, and it takes a little while for the noise to die down before Diana can continue.

"To his right is Dick Grayson-Wayne. He was the first Robin, and the first person to join Bruce on his patrols. He now operates as Nightwing in Bludhaven."

The applause comes again, and there's a small group that seems extra loud. They're too far for Jason to actually be able to see, but he's pretty sure Dick's team is there, as are several more from Bludhaven.

"Then we have Barbara Gordon-Wayne, who operated as Batgirl before retiring to help coordinate the team. Her husband is Timothy Wayne-Gordon, who was the third and current Robin."

Each successive name that gets called gets another round of noise. Of people applauding. Of people yelling encouragement. Every so often Jason catches a thank you screamed by someone in the crowd outside of city hall.

"Beside them is the current leader of the group," Diana says, and Jason desperately hopes that the tears in his eyes aren't visible to anyone off the stage. "Jason Wilson-Wayne. He was the second Robin, the second Batman, and now operates primarily as Raptor."

The fact that Diana's carefully avoided the fact that Slade was Deathstroke and he was the Arkham Knight doesn't seem to matter as much as the roar as his old aliases get announced. He doubts anyone ever connected all three. He doubts anyone knew. Hearing the noise makes his stomach do flips, because it's not for anyone else. It's not for the family. It's just for him.

"The last member of the Wayne-Wilson family is Damian Wilson-Wayne, who operates as Shrike."

Damian gives an enthusiastic wave as his own roar of applause comes through.

"That said, the family could hardly operate on their own. Michael Lane has operated in Gotham as Azrael for years, aiding them in their work."

Jason's happy that the applause comes through even for the members of the family who aren't related. Even for the ones that aren't Batman.

"And the last member of the group is Stephanie Brown, the second Batgirl, who I'm sure many of you have seen around the city."

There's the one last roar of applause.

Jason wishes Duke was up there, along with the rest of Dick's team, but if they're planning to continue working as vigilantes, it's simply not possible.

Diana gives a small nod, handing the microphone back to Gordon. It's to give him deniability, Jason knows, but he still can't help but find it funny, considering his daughter is on stage.

"Thank you Miss Prince," Gordon says. "But before I discuss what the Gotham Police Department is willing to discuss about the incidents yesterday, I do want to take this time to give one last thank you to all the people up on this stage. All the people who've helped Gotham over the years, and all their allies who, for one reason or another, can't be up on this stage."

It's not anyone in the back who does it. It's a man in the press core who Jason feels like he should recognize who does, jumping to his feet and whistling at the top of his lungs.

Someone farther back yells moments later, something loud that sounds like Gotham loves Batman, but it's lost in the sudden noise.

Jason can't see it. His eyes are wet, the tears threatening to flow as the wave of applause rolls over them. As Gotham and the people who live there recognize them for the first time.

It's over. It's over, and it hurts, but Jason knows that it's time.

It's time for him to just be Jason again.

Notes:

It's not the end, never fear! When I had originally planned this out, there was just part seven. However, as I wrote I felt increasingly like things would feel really weird with this nice big climax at chapter 40-50ish and then another 40-50ish chapters of aftermath, so I decided to split it.

Part eight will happen, following all the aftermath that comes from this kind of major retirement. It should start tomorrow, and probably get back up to normal speed real quick. I spent a bit of time today organizing my massive stack of notes, so there's that.

Thanks once again to everyone who's read along, and a double thanks to everyone who's sent comments. It honestly means the world to me seeing how excited people get for updates, and reading everyone's excited theories for where things are going. 👀

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 6 of More to Being a Father than Having a Kid