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Usually, Jason would have long fled the Bats’ company by now with the villain of the week already defeated and taken into police custody.
But as he had been getting ready to slip away, it had become apparent that Bruce had been struck by a truth spell.
As far as they can gather, it seems to operate under three conditions: everything he says has to be the truth; he can’t avoid answering any questions directly posed to him; and once he starts telling the truth, he can’t stop at half-truths.
Basically, B’s entire modus operandi has been wiped out.
So far, Bruce has revealed a fucking hilarious story about getting his cape stuck in a revolving door and dropped no less than five hot takes about Gotham’s Rogue Gallery. And like hell Jason was gonna miss any more of that.
Instead, he decided to follow the others back to the Cave and let Alfred fix his arm wound up all nice while laughing his ass off at Bruce’s ensuing constipation.
God, the look on his face when he realized that he would be a liability if he was the one to go interrogate the wizard on how to remove the spell had Jason honest-to-Gosh-Golly cackling. (Admittedly, by human standards, it was barely anything, but by Bruce standards, very expressive, speaking volumes of despair.)
And it only got better from there as Bruce was then forced to admit his paranoia and deep-seated need for control in all its glory before he sent Batgirl and Black Bat on their way with an awkward confession of how much he trusts and values them, not only as allies, but also as people.
Truly, Christmas has come early.
Of course, shortly after the girls leave for the police station, in typical Dickwad fashion, Dick decides he must reassure B. “Don’t worry, Bruce. I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that we’re not going to take advantage of this.”
Dick doesn’t turn to look at Jason, but it’s obvious that that last part was directed at him, which yeah, fucking right. Try to stop him, motherfucker.
“Uh huh, sure.” Jason ignores Dick and pointedly keeps his attention focused on Bruce. “So, Bruce, how can I read the restricted files on the Batcomputer that my account doesn’t have access to?”
He can feel everyone turn to glare at him while B gives him the override code he needs.
So what if Jason is having a field day with this? Like this shit doesn’t serve Bruce right.
The fucker has way too many secrets. As if they don’t all have things they’ve been dying to ask Bruce and have him not be able to dodge answering for once. If their high horses are going to stop them, more dirt for Jason.
But then Alfred tsks, “Really, Master Jason, I rather think that’s enough.”
Oof, told off by Alfie. That stings.
Whatever, Jason’s used to being the family disappointment.
If he can manage to gather the files on Black Mask before Bruce has the chance to reset the override passcode, it’ll be worth it. Might be possible if luck swings his way and the cure for the spell requires Bruce to be down for the count or off gallivanting elsewhere for a little while.
But for now, an Alfred scolding is enough to get him to stop.
So instead of actually taking advantage of the beautiful gift that’s been presented before them, Jason will shut up.
He mimes zipping his lips closed. Make sure to be annoying as possible, that’s Jason’s strategy for being around any of the Batfools. He’d say that getting incorporated back into the roster requires a strong coping mechanism, but mostly it’s just that he likes being annoying and he especially likes annoying these specific people. You gotta get your kicks somewhere, right?
Damian scoffs and says, in his snotty eleven year old fashion, “What else can you expect from allowing a criminal into our ranks?”
Jason almost starts quizzing Bruce again out of spite. No doubt the demon brat is just saying what they’re all thinking. Might as well be the asshole they think he is.
But he resists. He’s been trying to play mostly nice for Bruce’s sake now that the old man’s convinced they can play at happy families.
He doesn’t always succeed, but he can tell Bruce appreciates it anyway. He’s started to pass along intel and occasionally even allows Batman to be seen working with Red Hood by the public.
A few weeks back, when Jason pissed off Cassandra and consequently got his ass whooped for it, Bruce didn’t even lecture him. He just rolled his eyes before icing the massive bruise BB left on him. (Girl’s tough. Jason can respect that if nothing else.)
Plus, he doesn’t actually want to force Bruce to say something he wants to keep private, something actually serious. As much as Jason wishes sometimes that he could pry his way into B’s brain, he’d also never do that without consent. And even if he did have it, he wouldn’t want the whole Mystery Inc. around to hear the questions he wants answered.
In the meantime, he tries to parse out whether Bruce is actually going to be pissed at him over asking about the security bypass.
When Jason tries to catch his eye, Bruce lets him. A good sign. The old man must not be pissed-pissed, just kinda pissed.
Sure, he glares at Jason, but it has a softer edge than his typical We Have a Problem glare. This has gotta be like a five or a six on the How Much is Jason Pissing Me Off Today Scale. Pretty good considering the default is usually a two or a three.
It’s clear that Bruce is only mildly annoyed with him. Jason’s already halfway through planning how he can smooth things over.
He’s broken out of his musings when a comm flares back to life.
Stephanie’s voice fills the cave, “So do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
“Bad news,” Bruce says.
Cassandra interjects, “All bad news.”
“Hey, it’s kind of good news,” Steph protests. “Basically, you need to reveal your deepest, darkest secret and you’ll be fine! Completely cured! It’s just, y’know, if you don’t, you’ll die.”
Bruce gives his long-suffering, why-do-I-even-bother-with-you sigh, which is kind of surreal to witness being directed at someone else. “Stephanie, that is all bad news.”
Some back and forth follows, but Jason tunes it out, wondering what Bruce’s secret could possibly be.
Bruce is a man entirely built on secrets. He shares one and it only reveals that there’s something else hidden from you. The matryoshka doll of people, he is.
What could possibly be juicy enough to blow the others out of the water? Damn, Jason really hopes it’s something in the realm of manslaughter.
While Jason is plotting out how manslaughter could be the gateway drug to joining Jason in killing criminals, Bonnie and Clyde style, B wraps up his banter with the replacement squad.
When Bruce then just sits very still after doing so, Drake speaks up. “Bruce, you heard Cass. You don't have much time left.”
“Bruce, no matter how bad it is… It’s not worth you dying over to any of us,” Dick adds.
Jason says, “Yeah, c’mon, old man. I’m getting bored over here.”
He hopes that Bruce picks up on how what Jason’s really doing is agreeing with Dick, that losing Bruce is something he could never take. Not again. Especially not because of the asshole’s own stubbornness.
He thinks Bruce does, because he at least turns around to face everyone.
Bruce takes a deep breath and looks around the room like the drama queen he is. He takes a second to regard each of them in turn, like he’ll never see them again after this. Acting like a prisoner being led to death row just because he has to share something with the class.
Such utterly Bruce behaviour that it makes Jason’s chest ache a little.
If he’s about to opt out and choose death instead – or if god forbid, he takes too fucking long to blurt it out – Jason will throw him into the Lazarus Pit himself just so he can strangle him to death, throw him back in, and then lock him away in the manor forever where he can’t put himself in dumb situations like this that risk his goddamn life like it’s not the most precious thing in the world.
Hell, he might even do that last bit if Bruce doesn’t screw everything up anyways.
Bruce clears his throat, before saying in a tone devoid of emotion with just a hint of the Bat gruff, “Jason and I are in a sexual relationship and have been for some time now. For far too long.”
And Jason sees fucking red.
Of course. Of course when Bruce is backed into a corner to reveal one of those secrets that he holds closer to his chest than he ever held anything else, Bruce reveals one Jason already knows.
And of course – of fucking course, the worst secret he has – the thing he’s most ashamed of – is Jason himself.
Honestly, Jason should’ve expected this.
The bastard lacks too much self-awareness to ever admit to himself how the shitty things he’s done will always surpass the fact that he fucked a preteen almost a decade ago. No, the other morally dubious decisions Bruce has made have all been in the name of his war, therefore, Bruce had suitable justification – nevermind that they’re the things that actually fucked Jason up.
What’s really wrong here must be the one thing Bruce let himself have. The one thing that Jason never regrets. The one thing that makes them both happy.
The others are silent around them, but Jason is too busy shooting daggers at Bruce to see their reactions. Like he gives a shit what they think anyway.
Bruce clearly does though, given the way that he is pointedly refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, staring resolutely at his clenched fists.
“You mean that after Jason came back, your relationship changed into a sexual one?” Tim asks, but it’s more hesitant than Jason’s ever heard him sound.
Admittedly, he tends to avoid Red Robin as much as he can, too much of a sore spot still. But usually, the kid’s nothing but assertive around Jason (aggressively so), steadfast in treating him like he’s something that the teen stepped in whenever they interact.
Jason has to huff out a little laugh. The kid’s theories are usually better than whatever desperate attempt at pulling straws that was too. What else could “too long” possibly be referring to besides hooking up with Jason pre-zombification?
There’s a second where Bruce seems to be trying to fight the spell, but evidently blabbing about Jason wasn’t quite enough. “No. We first slept together when Jason was twelve, a few months after he moved in.”
There’s a loaded silence that follows. The infamous kind where a pin dropping would cause quite a stir.
Jason feels so tempted to break it with a joke – probably something crude that will have Timmy rolling his eyes, Dick covering up Damian’s innocent little assassin ears, and Alfred scolding him again.
But he keeps holding his tongue for once. He knows how hard B tried to keep this shit a secret and as much as Jason thinks that was a dumb waste of energy and time, he can respect that.
(Also, he’s definitely going to argue later that him playing nice when Bruce was acting like their relationship is the end of the world should let him off the hook for abusing the spell to gain access to the Batcomputer’s data.)
Apparently, that still isn’t enough for the spell since Bruce breaks the silence shortly after. “I know I shouldn’t have. That I’m no better than the criminals we hunt down. But I can’t bring myself to regret it. Jason is the love of my life and I think a part of me has known that since the first time I met him.”
Oh… Oh, shit, that’s…
Damn, he should have kept his helmet on.
Jason can feel his cheeks going warm and god knows what stupid expression is currently on his face.
Jason knows objectively that Bruce must love him. He does.
There’s no way after everything they’ve been through that he doesn’t. That Jason isn’t currently sitting pretty in a cell in Arkham or Blackgate for the people he’s killed is a testament to that. He’s gone so far past breaking the golden rule and is still permitted to come and go to both the Batcave and Wayne Manor. It speaks volumes to how Bruce feels about him, it does.
So he really doesn’t get why his breath catches. Or why he gets these stupid butterflies in his stomach like he’s still twelve years old.
Hearing it is apparently a completely different thing.
Before, back when he was a kid, Bruce had on a few occasions said as much. The times that he did are still among Jason’s fondest, most precious memories.
He remembers the sheepish look on Bruce’s face whenever he did like he was afraid that this would be the time that Jason rejected him. Like Jason ever would. The way he’d whisper it like it was something just for them, a priceless gift no one else could ever take away from him. Something just for Jason.
But since Jason had come back, their relationship has changed. There’s too much bad blood for them to go back to where they were. When they reconciled, they made a new relationship. Just as mad for each other, but definitely less affectionate than before.
Jason’s not the kid he used to be. And neither is Bruce. They’ve both been through a lot of shit. The vulnerability of actually admitting the feelings they have has been too much. They know what they are to each other and that’s enough.
Or at least, Jason had thought so. But he never would have in a million years considered himself to be the love of Bruce’s life.
One of Bruce’s loves, sure. But the number one, leaving Talia and Selina in the dust? No way would he have believed that.
Bruce loves deeply and he loves forever. As much as he hates it, Jason knows that Bruce will always love and have soft spots for Talia and Selina.
He figured their relationship was similar; the only difference being that Jason was dumb enough to stick around, to put Bruce above everything else. Talia and Selina are both too proud and independent to ever give up shit for Bruce.
Jason, on the other hand, is totally and utterly whipped. Bruce says jump and Jason asks how high. Bruce says stop killing people and Jason says no problemo. Like sure, Jason’s no doormat and he’ll be the first in line to call Bruce on his shit any day of the week. But for the stuff that actually matters to Bruce, Jason will fold every time.
So yeah, Jason is a little surprised and touched to hear that Bruce has been just as gone on him as Jason has been since the beginning, since before Jason first snuck into his bed.
It’s just goddamn annoying that he had to find out while in a room full of Bruce’s minions that all hate him and who are definitely about to be their judgemental selves about this.
But fuck them. Jason’s not going to let them ruin it. They don’t fucking matter. The only people in this room that do are B and Alfred.
Admittedly, he does feel a little nervous about the possibility of Alfred judging Jason on how much of a whore he is, but that’s idiotic because Alfred is too good for all of them. No doubt his slutty preteen (and mid-teen, hell, post-teen too) years won’t actually affect the man’s opinion of him. Probably.
The reaction that follows is not any Jason is expecting.
It’s not one of Alfred’s patented sarcastic but affectionate jabs. It’s not one of the other Robins accusing Jason of needing to sleep his way into the green panties and yellow cape.
Instead, Dick punches Bruce in the face.
And not in the sparring way either, he is definitely not pulling his punch. It looks like it hurts like a bitch.
It probably says something bad about Jason that his reaction to seeing his partner punched in the face is to chuckle, but hey, Bruce can take it. And honestly, the man usually deserves to be punched. He's a total jackass like eighty percent of the time.
And it’s only made sweeter by who’s doing the punching. The golden boy, perfect child and ultimate Robin, Dickie Grayson really just decked his beloved father and mentor. That’s gotta sting B more than the punch itself.
So yeah, Jason’s having fun seeing the uncharacteristic goody two shoes gone wild. He figures as soon as Alfie or Timothy pull him away that anger is going to immediately turn on Jason, but eh, he can take it too. And he has no sentimentality for Dick (or well… not much of any anyways) that he’ll be sure to give as good as he gets.
So it surprises him to see Dick roll back his fist and bury it in Bruce’s face over and over again. It unfortunately gets less and less funny each time as it increasingly dawns on Jason that no one is pulling Dick away.
Holy self-loathing, Batman. Maybe don’t just let someone repeatedly punch you in the face when you could stop him just because he’s your son?
Of course, Bruce is just letting it happen like the masochist he is. But this is why he has his trail of ducklings, right? To stop him from pulling this kind of shit. Not to take advantage of his weak spots to attack him. Or to just stand and watch it all go down.
Jason’s the family fuck-up. He’s the one who’s supposed to go around punching everyone in the face or watch it all from the sidelines when shit like this goes down.
The rest of Bruce’s sidekicks are the ones who are there to de-escalate the situation and start the sing-along to Kumbaya. What else are they even for? Bruce should consider a salary cut, honestly.
Dick’s out for obvious reasons. Really inconsiderate of him to be the one to lose his mind, considering that he’s the one who’s best at reigning Bruce drama in.
Tim is watching it unfold with a completely blank expression on his face, which alright then, he’ll be no help, the little sociopath. (Okay, yeah, it’s probably more sociopathic to watch it and laugh, but whatever, Jason died, crawled out his grave, and was subsequently dunked in the Lazarus Pit. What’s Tim’s excuse?)
Damian looks confused. Or, well, his version of confused. He’s almost wearing his signature haughty face, but his furrowed eyebrows betray his uncertainty. He mostly looks constipated.
Probably wondering if he should take mommy or daddy’s side in the argument that’s ensuing between his Batmen.
Also possibly wondering how gay sex works. Has the kid had The Talk yet? No way that Bruce ever would, but it seems like something good ole ‘Wing would do. Hell, maybe even Talia did before she dropped him off at the doorstep. Doubtful that she included anal sex in the curriculum though.
Either way, the infant is also not going to be the one to put an end to this.
Man, they’re really going to make poor Alfred get in between the two to break up the fight, huh?
Seems unlikely that he’ll be able to manage to snap Dick out of it without physically pulling him away. The asshole seems to have worked himself into a total rage, the kind where people’s words bounce right off and all you can hear is the pounding in your ears. (Jason would know, he’s a bit of an expert on that kind of rage.)
Except Dick just keeps on punching. And Alfred doesn’t even try to reason with him.
When Jason turns his head back to look at the man, Alfred isn’t even paying the violence any attention. He’s staring at the ground with a faraway look in his eyes.
Which is pretty alarming, actually. In all the years he’s known him, Jason’s never known Alfred to seem anything resembling shaken.
It’s not exactly an easy thing to surprise Alfred. The man raised a kid only to have him turn around and take up a one-man crusade against the concept of crime while dressed in a bat fursona every night. To have him react – or rather, to have such a lack of a reaction from him – makes Jason feel like he missed a step on the stairs.
Alfred’s unflappable nature seemed like one of the core truths of the universe. The idea that it can be shattered with the news of his relationship with Bruce rattles Jason a little.
Honestly, he always suspected that Alfred must know.
When he was a kid growing up in the manor, it had felt like Alfred was omniscient. After too many attempts at sneaking cigarettes or staying up late had been foiled, Jason had learned there was no way to pull the wool over Alfred’s eyes. The man somehow had the ability to sniff out mischief that Jason was planning before he even did anything. It seemed impossible to trick Alfred, no matter how miniscule of a lie it was.
So whenever Bruce bent over backwards to hide their relationship, Jason let the old man have the illusion of it while rolling his eyes. No way would it be possible that something as huge as a relationship going on under Alfred’s nose would be able to slip by his notice. It seemed obvious to Jason that Alfred was only not acknowledging it out of courtesy, waiting for Bruce and Jason to tell him themselves. Also, knowing Alfie, he probably thought it was funny to watch all the ways they tried to hide it.
Bruce, on the other hand, did not subscribe to that train of thought.
He may be the World’s Greatest Detective, but the guy is also a real dumbass. Shit like the unconditional love of his butler slash father figure does not compute in that warped hyperdrive he calls a brain.
But Jason, he never had a problem getting stuff like that. He knew that even if Alfred didn’t know what was going on, Alfred wouldn’t give a fuck about it. There’s nothing in the world that would ever make Alfred turn his back on Bruce, let alone an unconventional but fully consensual relationship that made the both of them happy.
He figured at most, Alfred might do what he always does when he doesn’t approve of Bruce’s decisions and start making passive-aggressive digs about them. And sure, Jason does his best to avoid Alfred’s judgments even now, but it’s a far fucking cry from the world-ending Bruce seemed to think would happen.
The only possibility of Alfred’s disapproval that crossed Jason’s mind was a temporary issue with their relationship. He assumed a possible accusation about Jason being a gold digger. Maybe some discomfort about Jason’s age or the fact that technically Jason was legally Bruce’s son. But nothing that Alfie wouldn’t get over once he got used to them being together.
So yeah, Jason thought the lengths that Bruce would make them go to keep them a secret was a dumb waste of effort, but he did it anyways because he was embarrassingly whipped.
Whatever would make spoiled brat Brucie happy went, whether that meant being woken up a mere three hours after falling asleep so Jason could sneak back into his own bed before Alfred got up for the day or only being allowed to leave hickeys if they could pin it on some rando that Bruce had hooked up with in the same time period.
It had crossed his mind to do some grand reveal during his revenge plot but he had quickly dismissed the idea – not a sustainable route for Bruce’s manpain since it would only ultimately absolve him of whatever fear of Alfred finding out that may have still been lurking. Especially since chances were high that Alfred would simply reveal he already knew. Not much of a bang that would create.
Instead, Jason has continued to let Bruce keep them his dirty little secret. But now that Jason’s been disillusioned, it’s completely different. He gets to set the rules.
He indulges Bruce’s insistence on only fucking at Jason’s safehouses because that’s an easy thing to do and more convenient for him anyways. He refrains from making all the dirty jokes he wants to B if a member of his ever-present family is within hearing range. But anything that’s more effort than that… Well, that’s a no from Jason.
Now, he takes great pleasure in leaving all the hickeys he wants wherever he wants. Bruce will sometimes grumble at him over it, but he always moans when Jason’s sucking them there, so it’s obvious that’s Bruce-speak for being annoyed at himself for liking them too much to ask Jason to actually stop.
He always thought it was paranoia blinding Bruce to how obvious their relationship was to anyone who knew either of them, but evidently, B was the one who had the better picture of what was going on.
Cause these reactions are not the reactions of people who suspected something was afoot. Alfred actually taking a time out to process shit? Dickie going straight to violence mode without being provoked and staying there despite a lack of a fight back? Tim throwing a theory at the wall to see if it sticks? The brat not interjecting with his own opinion?
Hell, maybe the world is ending.
God, it’s so annoying. Why does Bruce always get to be right?
And what’s most annoying of all is Jason now has to be the bigger man here and stop Bruce from being beat up, even though this revelation makes Jason feel more like witnessing Bruce be punched in the face than before.
He hates this fucking family.
But like a good boy, he walks over to where Dickwad is embedding his fist in Bruce’s pretty face and grabs his arm. He wretches it back and Dick stumbles backwards.
Dick turns to look at Jason, rage evident on his face.
Jason’s expecting the anger to be redirected at him, but he’s not sure if pulling him away was enough to dispel most of it. He’s uncertain whether he’s about to be on the end of a punch or if he’s only about to get an earful for sleeping with the guy’s father. Either way, he’s readying a snarky comment and tensed, prepared to dodge whatever move Dick may throw at him.
But instead, when Dick looks at him, his face falls and he says almost sadly, “Jason…”
Whatever this reaction is, Jason already doesn’t like it. He debates punching him just to get that weird look off his face, but it feels a little too counterintuitive to this whole mediation thing he’s trying to do here.
So like any good arbiter would do, he decides to yell at Dicholas instead. “What the hell are you doing? Chill the fuck out.”
It has the opposite effect of what Jason was hoping for. Dick just looks even more like a kicked puppy. He puts a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “God, Jason. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I should have –”
“Sorry for what?” Jason interrupts and pushes his hand off. He thinks he’s figured out where this is going and yup, he doesn’t like it one bit. The pity and guilt Dick’s emanating is pissing him the hell off and he’s pretty sure it’s only going to get worse from here.
“I – well, I’m sorry for not stopping Bruce from sexually abusing you,” Dick says. “That’s what I meant.”
Jason scoffs. “But Bruce didn’t sexually abuse me.”
Dick exchanges a look with Tim, which does nothing good for Jason’s mood.
Whatever he gets from Tim, Jason can’t tell. He still seems expressionless to Jason, except now there’s a bit of a frown on his face that could mean anything really.
Dick opens his mouth, but Jason cuts him off before he can get a word in. “He didn’t. Was it skeevy of him to have sex with a twelve year old? Yeah, sure, but it was completely consensual.”
Tim says, “Twelve year olds can’t consent.”
Which, like okay. It checks out that Dick would get all concerned about the morality, just so he can twist it into a situation where he should’ve been the hero, but Tim, of all people, not taking an opportunity to insult Jason for something that’s arguably his fault? Now that is just fucking weird.
But thinking about it from an outsider’s perspective, Jason guesses he can understand why they’re concerned.
As much as he is furious on Bruce’s behalf that they’re so easily convinced that B is some kind of pedo, it does sound pretty bad. Like they both should know better given oh, just about everything about Bruce. Especially considering the fact that Jason is well-known to murder creeps like that when he comes across them, but Jason will give them a pass. Honestly, it’s kind of sweet that they want to like defend his honour or whatever.
Hmm… how best to explain the circumstances so they both can de-twistify their panties without accidentally painting himself as some kind of traumatised victim who can’t admit what happened to him?
“Listen, I wasn’t exactly a normal twelve year old kid. I started the whole thing, okay? And I knew full-well what I was getting into. Hell, if anything, I was the one who acted out of line. Wouldn’t take B’s refusal for an answer, kept pestering him until he said yes to me.”
He shrugs like the confession doesn’t mean much, but internally, he’s kind of praying that he didn’t just give them more cannon fodder for the ‘Jason is dangerous and should be locked up’ movement the two have spearheaded.
After everything that he had – that had happened to him, he hadn’t completely understood consent when he first arrived at the Manor. He still feels a little guilty about it, but anytime he’s tried to apologize to Bruce, the man’s just brushed him off. He always reassures Jason that he was only sensing what Bruce was already feeling, that he was picking up on how Bruce was only rejecting him out of obligation, that it never made Bruce feel uncomfortable. But he sure as hell is not explaining that context to these assholes, even if they’re being nice.
“Jason, you don’t need to stick up for me,” Bruce murmurs because apparently he’s resigned himself to being thought of as total scum by his beloved sons.
Jason rolls his eyes, what a jackass.
“Fuck off. I’ll stick up for you if I damn well please, old man,” Jason says.
Dick actually flinches at that, which oops, probably shouldn’t have emphasized their age difference.
“Jason,” Dick says, and yup, that’s the victim voice he uses when dealing with traumatized civilians. Great. Definitely didn’t listen to a word Jason said. “You being a mature twelve year old or having feelings for Bruce doesn’t change the fact that what Bruce did was wrong.”
“Did I fucking say that? No. I’m not a fucking idiot, okay? I know Bruce probably should've waited until I was older. But there is a world of difference between actual pedophiles preying on victims and what went down between B and me. Which, by the way, is none of your business anyways. But come on, don’t you think if Bruce was really a pedo, I would’ve killed him by now?”
Dick and Tim share another look, which effectively kills any of the good will Jason was feeling towards the two over them not treating him like a rabid dog.
“Bruce shouldn’t have been having feelings for a twelve year old at all,” Tim says, firmly but not unkindly.
Dick adds, “Jason, I don’t think you would feel that way if Bruce did this to someone else.”
With every oh-so-careful word, every sentence spoken in those softened tones, Jason feels the rage build and build.
He would ask who the fuck these two think they are, but it’s obvious they think they’re the ones who really get what’s going on. As if they can understand jackshit about him or his relationship with Bruce, let alone understand better than Jason himself. And the most infuriating part of it all: their insistence that they’re doing what’s right for Jason. Of course, Jason is too dumb to know when he’s got got, surely he must not understand who Bruce is or what happened to him.
Like goddamn, this is exactly why he hates working with the Bats. There’s no getting through to the condescending patron saints of morality. Their superiority complexes are too big to accommodate anything else.
Even after Jason stopped killing, they all act so hoity-toity, so sure their way is the only way. And now that shit is extending to Jason’s relationship, yeah, no fucking way. If they’re not going to listen to Jason, fine. He doesn’t know why he even bothered trying to explain. Once their minds are made up about something, they’ll never change it, especially not for anything someone like Jason has to say. But unlike Bruce, Jason’s not going to just stand here and take it.
He’s about to tell them where they can shove their concern when footsteps echo through the Cave. Damn, he guesses it makes sense that Batgirl and Black Bat would come back here when they were done with the magician, especially considering the whole truth on the pain of death thing.
“You’re not dead,” Cassandra says. “I am… glad.”
Despite himself, he feels a morsel of curiosity. From what he’s seen, Cass very rarely speaks and when she does, the words typically come slow and uncertain. It would suggest that English isn’t her first language, but he’s never heard her speak any other language either, not even to Bruce who speaks like ten million languages.
He vaguely knows about her parents, namely that they’re both affiliated with the League, but nothing else really about her background. Something happened that made her fiercely opposed to killing, he presumes. Or maybe she’s just always had a strong moral compass. Hell, maybe she’s just imported all of Bruce’s beliefs as her own and called it a day.
So naturally, he’s been wondering what exactly her deal is for quite some time. Stephanie and Tim were easy to figure out well before he met either of them, but Cassandra was and remains a total mystery. And Jason would very much like that mystery solved. He’s nosey like that. He’s been lowkey trying to devise a way to ask Bruce about it without giving the impression that he’s started to give a shit about his kiddos.
“Oh, please tell me that we didn’t miss the dirt,” Stephanie says. “Figures…” she trails off once she notices Tim shaking his head at her and not quite frantically – but certainly quickly – walking towards the two. Really subtle there, Timbo.
When he reaches them, he starts speaking to them quietly enough that Jason can’t hear. Yet somehow Jason feels like he’s got the gist of what the asshole is saying. Oh, hey guys, good job getting the information out of that weirdo wizard! Unfortunately, it turns out that Bruce is a dirty old pervert who molested Jason, who, obviously, is much too dumb to realize what happened. So now, we’re all trying to convince Jason we understand his life better than he does, so that he’ll let Dick go back to punching Bruce.
Shockingly, standing and watching as someone he doesn’t like much tell all about his personal, private business to two people, which he’s spent a total of maybe twenty minutes talking to, does not soothe Jason’s irritation.
And he does not like the looks of things with the way that Stephanie keeps glancing over at his direction with these big, sad eyes. God, he should have never fucking came back with these bastards. If he had just gone straight home, he could’ve been asleep by now.
Like yeah, maybe Bruce might still be under attack by his son in his own home, but it wouldn’t be Jason’s problem. He’d be blissfully unaware, maybe munching on some nachos. Damn, he really wants nachos. Not his typical after-patrol snack, but they sound so fucking good right now.
He’s rudely interrupted from his delicious daydream by Stephanie, operating at a normal volume, saying, “Please tell me this isn’t going to be one of those things that we just let Bruce get away with. We’re going to send him to jail, right?”
Which, what the fuck? Jason feels absolutely dumbstruck.
He figured with the whole being-explained-the-situation-by-someone-who’s-taken-the-worst-interpretation-of-it thing would ensure that both Cassandra and Stephanie wouldn’t be taking Bruce’s side, but what the fuck? Throw the fucking Batman in jail? For indulging Jason and teaching him what a healthy, loving relationship was?
No way can anyone actually consider that as an option. God, he’d like to see them try. It’d be so goddamn satisfying to watch Bruce kick all of their asses.
Thankfully, Bruce says, “I can’t allow you to do that.” About fucking time.
Finally, some confirmation that Bruce isn’t about to take everything lying down. Sure, he’ll let some Robins call him a pedophile, that’s fine, but throw him in jail, now that’s a line he won’t let anyone cross.
“It’s not up to you,” Stephanie says, speaking more coldly than Jason has ever heard her.
Usually, she’s bubbly. While not nice to the scum out on the streets, she’s not exactly cruel to them either. Even when dealing with Jason, she’s only been cautious around him at worst. And since he’s been going cold turkey on saving Gotham the right way, she’s begun trying to strike up conversation with him sometimes. It’s extremely weird and way too nice for a Gothamite.
Dick says, “I don’t think anything but Bruce’s confession would lead to a conviction, considering that the victim is legally dead. As much as I agree that jail is where he belongs, it’s not really an option. Not unless Bruce decides to do the right thing and turn himself in,” and with that Dick turns to stare at Bruce, like his words didn’t make his point painfully clear.
Wow, what the fuck, Dickwad. Seriously considering throwing your old man into fucking jail? Guilt tripping him into doing it himself? And he’s considered the golden child?
Fortunately, Bruce doesn’t seem swayed. He just stares at them all in stony silence.
“Or one of us could say that it happened to us,” Tim suggests.
Wow, what the actual fuck, Timbo? Jason’s mind goes blank and he stands there in absolute awe.
Tim seriously wants to falsely accuse Bruce of molesting one of them, fabricate some bullshit story, and lie on the stand about it? That is some serious villain shit. Like the kind of villain shit Jason didn’t think actually happened in the real world. What the actual hell.
Since Jason faced Tim in Titans Tower, he’s had a reluctant respect for him. The kid almost held his own against Jason, and most importantly, did not back down. So yeah, he earned Jason’s respect that night. But this… Holy fuck.
“No,” Cass says. “Bruce will not… stay in prison.”
“Cassandra is right,” Bruce confirms. He doesn’t sound all that shocked that his precious family is so willing to throw him under the bus or that they’ll use dubious means to do so. “I understand that you all are upset, but Batman is more important than any one man’s demons.”
Dick, Tim and Steph simultaneously make noises on the spectrum between disbelief and outrage.
“Do you seriously expect us to just let you go back to protecting the city when you clearly can’t be trusted around children?” Stephanie asks.
“I’m not a danger to children,” Bruce says. “Jason was an outlier.”
The three scoff. Steph even throws her hands up in the air. Like it’s so goddamn unbelievable that Jason could be special.
“You don’t have to be the one wearing the cowl,” Dick says. “There’s no reason that we’d need a predator to be Batman.”
He spits it out with such disgust. Jason’s seen him angry at Bruce plenty of times (used to be their default state way back when), but he’s never seen it be like this.
Bruce doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows at Dick, which is damning enough. He evidently doesn’t have a reason why he should get to keep Batman, or not one that these tools would believe anyways. What’s boiling Jason’s blood is that Bruce shouldn’t need to. It’s total bullshit that he supposed to justify himself to these people when Batman is fucking his.
“Batman can’t avoid facing justice for his own crimes,” Tim says. A beat, then he adds, “If you won’t co-operate, I bet the Justice League would have no problem imprisoning you where you can’t escape from.”
Jason makes his own noise of indignation, “This is fucking ridiculous.”
Everyone’s attention turns to him. Yeah, about time. For something that’s supposedly driven by protecting Jason’s poor, defiled virtue, Jason himself sure doesn’t seem to factor much into things, huh? Wonder why that could be.
“So, what? You’re going to run and tattle to Superman? Lock B in some cell in the Watchtower and throw away the key? All over nothing –”
“It’s not nothing, Ja –”
“All over nothing,” Jason repeats. “So Dickie can go back to playing dress-up? And Bruce can spend a few years in jail, maybe get on a sex offender list somewhere, possibly lose his place in the League? Assuming, of course, that the League shares your ridiculous hang-ups about our relationship, and that they’ll care more about something that happened almost a decade ago than how valuable of an asset Batman is to the team. Which, I don’t know, doesn’t seem very likely to me, but what do I know? And then what? What does any of that shit accomplish?”
“So you… want Bruce… dead?” Cassandra asks.
“What? No,” Was Jason supposed to follow that non-sequitur? Because he super didn’t. “As much as B’s a pain the ass, I don’t exactly want to murder the guy, jeez.”
“But that’s what you do to… men like Bruce? Murder. It’s your… your idea of justice.”
A cold feeling stabs Jason as comprehension dawns on him. The fact that Cassandra would try to group B with the monsters he puts down…
He hates remembering that he almost did kill Bruce, once upon a time.
He wants to believe that there was no version of him that would have been able to go through with it, no matter how many dunks in the Lazarus Pit taken. But he remembers the cold, methodical way he planned it out and how close he got to exploding that bomb. Remembers how the only thing that stopped him was the fact that he wouldn’t know Jason was his cause of death. He had wanted to be the last thing Bruce thought of, the same way Bruce had been his, but in the most twisted way.
But that was never about justice, that was petty revenge. Not the kind of revenge that brings justice. The kind that’s just misplaced hurt feelings. He can admit that now.
But even then, Jason wouldn’t have claimed Bruce was a bad person. Never would have compared him to people like that.
“I don’t kill the good guys, only the bad ones,” Jason says because what else is he going to say? If Cassandra wants to join the latest Bat-fad of calling Bruce a pedophile, he isn’t going to make it easy on her. She’s going to have to come out and say it.
Cassandra furrows her brows at him. “You don’t want… justice?”
Jason officially does not understand how this girl’s mind works, but he feels like he kinda got through to her. Somehow, his pretending to miss her point to be an asshole made her get what Dicholas and Timbit’s brains simply couldn’t understand.
"I don’t need justice for anything. Bruce hasn’t done anything wrong,” Jason says. “Well, actually, if B wanted to – say, I don’t know, kill the Joker for me, I wouldn’t say no.”
He directs that last bit at Bruce and raises his eyebrows at him. Bruce keeps the purposeful neutral look he’s put on his face, but a corner of his mouth ever-so slightly twitches.
More than he expected to get from him, honestly. He’d figured what with the whole everyone turning on him thing that B would have sent his emotions into shutdown, full retreat into Batman mode.
That’s a good sign; here’s to hoping that he’s realized how absolutely idiotic they’re all being and decided to opt out of his usual angst-fest that follows whenever he gets into a fight with one of his subordinates.
They’ve more than proved tonight that they’re not worth it, that they don’t deserve B.
Right on cue, Dick is back at it again, moving over to where Steph is to put a hand on her shoulder. “Regardless of what we do, this changes everything. We’re not just going to act like everything’s fine, not knowing what we know now.”
He turns back to Jason, “Maybe you can’t see why right now, Jason, but –”
“Oh, fuck right off,” Jason interjects because he’s sure as shit not going to sit through another condescending tirade. “I can see why perfectly clearly: you’re so far up your own ass that –”
Tim says, “The point is that what happens doesn’t have to be in the form of legal repercussions, we get that’s clearly not what you want.”
“Why the fuck does there need to be repercussions at all?”
Steph is now getting in on the fun of exchanging looks with the others, great. “Because what he did was wrong.”
Jason rolls his eyes. He’s getting pretty tired of this argument, but he’s much too stubborn to let it go. Surely, these good guys will do the bigger person thing eventually and just let Jason win by default if nothing else.
He says, “Don’t you think I have a better idea of what went down than you assholes? All you’ve got for context is two sentences from Bruce. Yeah, guys, I’m sure the man who decided all crime in Gotham is his fault is a good judge of when he’s in the wrong. That definitely checks out.”
Tim huffs out a little irritated sigh, which makes Jason feel a little better.
“The only context we need is that he slept with a twelve year old. There’s nothing that could ever justify that,” Dick says somehow more slowly than his typical dealing with victims voice. Jason’s apparently only getting more victim-y by the moment. Yay.
“Right, of course, unlike the way he threw twelve year olds into life-threatening situations. No, that can be completely justified...”
“That’s not the same –”
“You’re right, it’s way worse; any one of us could have died – oh, wait –”
“Enough,” Alfred cuts in.
Thank god.
They all fall silent because duh, Alfred.
Finally, Alfred will put an end to all of this bullshit. Jason swears if any of them start freaking out on Alfie when he reveals that Jason actually was a different type of twelve year old, or, god forbid, they accuse him of being a pedo sympathizer or some shit, he will have to punch them.
The man clearly didn’t know, and if anyone’s going to find fault with the way he deals with it, considering the fact that he’s the only one here besides Bruce who really knew Jason when he was a kid, Jason will not be able to put up with it.
He hates hearing them say all this shit about Bruce, sure, but talking smack about Alfred is a line that cannot be crossed. The very concept is a crime against humanity. Bruce does need to be called on his bullshit more often – if only these dimwits would actually choose something worth being mad about. Alfred, on the other hand, has done nothing but deal with more bullshit than any one man should have to.
Everyone’s been acting weird about this whole thing but surely not weird enough that they’ll discount what Alfred says. That’s like Bat blasphemy.
“Master Damian, I think it’s time you went to bed.”
Holy shit, the kid’s still here? Jason’s never heard him be silent for that long before. He’s an entitled brat who thinks the world revolves around him, so he’s constantly making quips to emphasize his own intelligence/skills/superiority. The precious Wayne-Al Ghul heir really just stood and watched as they all argued without adding his two-cents?
Damn, he must have no idea what sex is. Poor brat’s probably losing his mind, not having a leg to stand on, all the while his two heroes, Nightwing and Batman, are on opposite sides.
Jason’s clearly not the only one who forgot Damian’s presence as both Dick and Steph look over at him with concerned expressions.
Tim looks over too, but he honestly looks annoyed more than anything.
Which checks out from what Jason’s seen of their relationship. Tim seems to treat Damian more or less the same way he treats Jason, which is hilarious since Jason brutally beat the guy up and tried to kill him whilst Damian’s an eleven year old child.
Damian looks affronted at the dismissal. “It’s hardly late. Patrol usually lasts longer –”
Stephanie cuts in, back to using the bubbly tone Jason’s used to hearing from her. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. C’mon, Damian, let’s go upstairs and get a snack.”
“You’re not subtle, Brown. I am not some toddler who needs to be sent away during important discussions.”
“Uh, yeah, you are. So either Alfred is going to force you to get your jammies on and go beddy-bye or you could enjoy some post-patrol junk and cocoa with me, your choice.” She shrugs.
Damian scowls and turns his head to face Alfred, who raises a single eyebrow at him. He then looks at Dickface like he’s going to be the one to save him, but Dick just sends a small, sheepish smile that doesn’t reach his eyes at the kid. “Tt, fine. Typical Fatgirl, only thinking of food at a time like this.”
“Hey, you try defeating an evil wizard twice in one night and not work up an appetite.”
Damian makes a disbelieving noise and argues with Steph about her contribution to the effort of capturing the magician as the two go up the stairs leading to the Manor, but almost playfully. Jason didn’t know playful was something Damian could do.
Sure, sometimes him and Dick would banter in costume, but not like this. It was always Batman-and-Robin dialogues. Nothing that sounded like the kind of back and forth a kid would have with a sibling. Huh. Maybe there was hope for the kid after all.
They all watch the pair leave in silence.
It feels a little too much like when a teacher would scold the class for being too loud and threaten them with keeping them inside during recess. Not that Jason ever minded staying in, he was a little nerd who never much liked recess anyways. Yet still the tension of waiting to find out whether the class had redeemed themselves enough to avoid punishment managed to affect him too. And this wait is all the more excruciating.
Jason feels antsy. He wants to throw something or punch someone or say some dumb shit.
He’d felt so confident that Alfred would be on their side, if not now, then eventually. That the only thing to be apprehensive of was an off-hand sarcastic comment. But now that he’s about to actually face his judgement…
Well, that belief is wavering. And shit, he’s got to admit he’s starting to get scared.
It seems increasingly likely that Alfred might be thinking less of him for sleeping with Bruce. Maybe he regrets showing Jason the kindness he did back then, knowing now that Jason snuck around behind his back and seduced B.
After all, Jason’s the one who got them into this mess, which all these years later, is tearing the family that Bruce has somehow managed to build (in no small part, thanks to Alfred) apart.
The very same family that Jason’s turned his nose up at whenever Alfred has tried to bring him into the fold. No doubt that outsider status is not lost on Alfie as he’s been watching the crime fighting Brady Bunch implode. There’s no way he’s going to outright call Jason a homewrecker, but Jason is starting to brace himself for the prim and proper implication version of it. Or worse, a veiled remark about Jason not being good enough for Bruce.
That shit? That would devastate Jason.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred begins solemnly, which at least means he isn’t yelling at Jason. Not a great start, but not terrible yet either. Could go either way. “I think it best if you stay in the penthouse temporarily.”
Record scratch, what? He can’t have understood that right. No fuckin’ way would Alfred be forcing Bruce into the doghouse over anything, let alone something that’s Jason’s fault.
“I’ll be by three times a day to serve your meals until we find a more permanent solution. Of course, if you have need of me, I can always stay longer, but I will have to attend to the Manor and its occupants as well.”
No one else is acting like Alfred’s solution is remotely out there. Hell, even Bruce is nodding sombrely like he expected as much, which only makes Jason feel crazier. It’s like Alfred started speaking some gibberish language that everyone else can understand. What the actual hell.
“Master Dick, I would greatly appreciate it if you would stay here for a few days. I very much suspect that Master Damian will adjust better to the new circumstances under your guidance.”
Dick smiles faintly, “Of course, Alfie.”
“In a few days time, we should be able to reconvene with cooler heads in order to decide what course of action would be best to pursue.” He pauses before continuing, “I… Well, I hope you all will reflect on what is best not only for everyone involved, but for Gotham as well. But of course, I will respect whatever decision is reached, regardless of my own personal opinions.”
Okay, this really is too much. He’s acting like he’s presenting the closing statements before a jury. Like this is something that they have a right to vote on.
Jason blurts out, “What the fuck? Why would Bruce even do that?”
“Master Jason,” Alfred says, raising his hands placatingly, which does not succeed in making Jason feel any calmer. Surprisingly, when people treat him like a wild animal that might bite their heads off, he tends to just want to succumb to their low expectations and prove his bite is much worse than his bark. “This is only a temporary measure. Master Bruce will be able to participate in any later conversation where any actual decision is made about his future. For now, however, nothing productive will come out of any discussions. Seeing as Master Bruce is the guilty party in this instance, it is only fair that he be the one who must relocate for the time being.”
He doesn’t even admonish Jason for cussing.
God, everything is so wrong, wrong, wrong. Like the world has tilted on its axis.
“It’s his fuckin’ house!” Jason doesn’t yell, but it’s a near thing.
Anger’s never been an effective way to reach Alfred. He’s always just raised an eyebrow and waited for Jason to calm down before being willing to listen. Even as he’s doing it, Jason doesn’t understand why he’s trying this route. It’s not like it’s going to change the man’s mind. Bruce comes by his stubbornness dishonestly; on a good day, Alfred is every bit as frustratingly determined as Bruce. On a bad day, well, there’s no fucking contest.
So Jason tries his best to meet Alfred at his level, he does. It is Alfred after all.
He takes a deep breath and steadies his voice before he continues. “Even if I agreed that Bruce was some evil, dirty pedo here – which for the record, I don’t – none of you have any goddamn right to kick him out of his own home.”
Alfred raises an eyebrow at him. Okay, whatever, still too angry then. Well, Alfred’s just going to have to suck it up because this is the best Jason can do under these circumstances. He should be thankful Jason isn’t shooting anything right now, honestly. Alfred’s the one out here betraying Bruce right now, and for what?! Over absolutely nothing.
Alfred’s voice sounds calm and his tone is cool when he replies, “I would hope this also being my own home would give me the authority to do so.”
“Well, it doesn’t! If Bruce wasn’t half as much of a self-sacrificing idiot as he is, there is no way that you could do that. Literally no one else without a Gotham-sized chip on their shoulder would stand for it. This is complete and total bullshit and you know it.”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t know that. What I do know is that no constructive conversation will occur tonight and that I can hardly allow someone who has a past of sexual relations with a child to sleep in the same household as a minor.”
Jason’s stomach drops. He can’t believe Alfred would say something like that about Bruce. “What the fuck are you on about? Bruce would never do anything like that with Damian, you can’t be serious.”
“I would have said the same thing about him and yourself, Master Jason,” Alfred gives a hint of a smile, but there’s no amusement in it. “So, you can imagine why I feel I must be cautious about the matter.”
“That’s completely different!” Jason splutters. “How can you, of all people, not get that? You knew me when I was twelve. You were there. You saw what Bruce was like with me. It was fuckin’ different, it was special. You can’t genuinely think that Bruce did anything wrong. You can’t!”
After he finishes, he feels a bit like a wrung-out dish towel. His face is flushing a little. Shit, he definitely put too much of his cards on the table there. It would be embarrassing enough if only Alfred and Bruce were around to hear it, but the knowledge that Dick, Tim and Cass were all witness to his outburst sinks like a stone in his stomach. God, going on about how their bond was special, could he sound anymore like a YA paranormal romance heroine?
“I’m sorry to say that I do genuinely think that, Master Jason. I cannot put into words how angry and disappointed I feel in Master Bruce. Regardless, now is not the time to be trying to do so. Now is the time for Master Bruce to go up and begin packing his bags.” He turns to Bruce, “I will be up shortly to assist you.”
Alfred can act like this is to keep everyone from going in circles, but it’s plain this is really punishment. Not only is he exiling Bruce from his family home, he’s also apparently leaving him to do his own housework. Something that Jason would normally be cheering on since Bruce is a spoiled rich brat to his core, but perverted into something that he can’t stomach considering the reason.
Bruce pauses, takes a deep breath. He starts towards the stairs until Jason steps in front of him to block his path.
Glaring at everyone else, Jason says, “No fuckin’ way is this happening. This is idiotic.”
“Jason,” Bruce says, which makes Jason redirect his scowl at him instead of Alfred. Like he’s going to let Bruce have this little respect for himself. He should know better.
“Jason,” Bruce repeats. He looks resigned, completely determined to actually go through with this. His gaze is warm, but firm. Bruce for I appreciate your help, but you’re only making it worse. Jason feels himself soften a little.
Goddamnit. Okay, fine, so there is some fuckin’ way this is happening.
He affectionately (read: as faux obnoxiously as possible) rolls his eyes at B to say that he’s given in, that he’ll drop it for now despite thinking it’s complete bullshit. Bruce ever so slightly nods in thanks.
Everyone’s watching their exchange; Jason can feel the weight of their stares. They must be generating enough heat that they could power Gotham for the month.
It’s a little embarrassing to be displaying such vulnerability in front of the Bat underlings, but he’s pretty sure they’re more focused on B – worried that he’s going to start groping poor little baby Jay or something. Jason feels very tempted to pounce on Bruce and stick his tongue down his throat, just to see how scandalized they’d be.
But no, B’s no fun. He’d totally flip if Jason deliberately provoked his people like that, especially since Jason did just agree to play by their rules.
So instead of being a menace, he steps aside to let Bruce go. He doesn’t even comment on how blatant they all were about scrutinising the two of them. See? Jason can be good.
As he leaves, Bruce shoots Jason a look that screams, Behave.
Naturally, Jason flips him off in response. It makes Bruce’s lips twitch almost imperceptibly, which gives Jason a warmth in his chest that he’ll probably need to hang onto for the ensuing conversation.
Bruce is still behaving like Bruce, that hasn’t changed and neither has their relationship. It has a steading effect that makes him feel like he’s no longer visiting the Twilight Zone.
In Bruce’s absence, a lull comes over the cave. They’re all waiting for Alfred to take charge again, to direct any remaining business.
You know what? No.
Before Alfred can speak again, Jason turns towards the exit where his motorcycle is waiting for him.
Clapping his hands together, he says, “Well, as fun as this was, I’ve got places to do, people to be, things to see.”
But obviously, Alfred doesn't let him leave without a fight. “Actually, Master Jason, I was hoping that you might be convinced to stay the night. I would like to keep that arm under observation.”
Before he can consider stopping himself (eh, probably wouldn’t’ve anyway), Jason lets out a laugh. “You have got to be joking.”
Alfred pretty much always plays this card, asking him to stay under the guise of concern over his injuries just about every time Jason has come to the Cave for care – regardless of how life-unthreatening they are.
The only time Jason’s actually accepted was one particularly bad night where Jason had gotten closer to death than he had been since he was fifteen. Both Alfred and Bruce had looked so shaken that Jason gave in with minimal protests. It hadn’t been a fun night, but they had both seemed comforted by his presence.
Considering how this night has gone, he’s not currently feeling any of the good will required to allow a repeat of that evening. So he shakes his head and moseys on his way towards his exit out of this hellhole.
Apparently, it’s not enough of an answer for Alfred because he replies, “Unfortunately, no. You’ll forgive me if I am not presently in the joking mood. Of course, you are free to go if you so choose, but it would mean a great deal if you chose to remain in the Manor for a few days.”
So it’s progressed from tonight to a few days now, huh? The pretence of being concerned over a cut that barely needed stitches has worn pretty thin.
He can’t believe that Alfred seriously expects him to stick around when he’s kicked the titular Wayne out of Wayne Manor. He’s more furious than he ever remembers being with Alfred.
It’s a weird place to be, feeling angry at Alfred. Jason’s used to anger (in many ways, it’s his default state of being) but not like this. He’s got the anger-heartbroken hybrid down pat, but now he’s feeling some strange mixture of anger and confusion. It’s got him reeling, probably the only reason he stops mid-step to turn back towards Alfred.
Alfred is smiling at him. Aw, fuck.
He looks as patient as he’s always been with Jason. As if finding out that Jason’s been lying to him for the better part of the decade hasn’t changed anything.
Even while he’s punishing Bruce for that crime, he’s giving Jason the same look he gave him countless times back before everything went to shit. He’s looking at Jason the same way he did when he was guiding Jason through Shakespeare for the first time. They took each line apart word by word, going over the etymology of any Shakespearean terms that gave Jason pause and carefully parsing out which syllables were supposed to be stressed and which were supposed to be unstressed. It had taken them well over a month to finish Macbeth, but Alfred had never gotten fed up with Jason’s endless questions, had only ever indulged him with a smile. This smile.
Even knowing that Alfred’s only acting this way due to misunderstanding the situation does nothing to stop it from getting to Jason. Against his will, he finds his anger waning, leaving only the confusion in its wake.
But surely… Surely, Jason can fix this.
If he can get Alfie alone, Jason can actually explain Bruce and him to Alfred without having his opinion be influenced by these assholes calling for Bruce’s head.
It’s a lot to take in, he supposes, and well… It’s not like it wasn’t kinda depraved of Bruce to sleep with a twelve year old, Jason can admit that. Of course, Alfred’s knee-jerk reaction would be to assume Bruce was in the wrong.
And still, Alfred only temporarily exiled B. He’s still planning on showing up to feed him. Really, he’s only demoted B from beloved son to like a treasured pet or something. If Jason was in Alfred’s shoes and he thought Bruce might be a pedo, he would’ve been suggesting a much more permanent solution. Clearly, Alfred isn’t convinced the situation is as black and white as the others are acting it is. That’s gotta mean there’s room to persuade Alfred of the truth.
And what provides a better opportunity to do so than a sleepover at the Manor?
Hell, maybe he’ll have the chance to get through to Dick too. He’s constantly switching back and forth on reaching out to Jason like a lightswitch. Getting a good night’s rest and some space from Bruce’s punchable face will probably make him calm enough to see reason again.
“Alright, fine. I guess I can stay one night,” Jason says. Alfred’s smile grows wider in response.
Here’s to hoping it’ll only take tomorrow to talk some sense into them.
Jason does not like spending time in the Manor. The dissonance between the Manor he lived in and the Manor that exists now bums him out. The differences are subtle for the most part, but noticeable to anyone who knew it inside and out or to anyone with a detective’s eye. Some new decor, a little rearranging, a room or two with an altered purpose. And the biggest change of all is plainly obvious; it’s impossible to ignore all the new misfit toys walking around. Consequently, Jason spends all his time there painfully aware of how he can never go back to the way things were, back when the Manor was his home.
But even with Thomas Wolfe’s words ringing in his ears, he stays.