Chapter Text
The stairs were long but they did not lead directly to the house. After the long staircase followed an even longer elevator and after that an in comparison hilarious small hallway. And at its end was a dark brown wooden door.
Bruce opened it by just turning the knob. No weird combo of face identication, some foreign languade sentences for a password and an ass-long numeral code the Batman had to type into the elevator for it to move upwards.
Behind the door Jason found a study. And not an ordinary one at that, but one that looked like the kind he reads about in his books: a big wooden mahagony table, a massive chair behind it, beige damask pattern. Behind the desk, the wall was filled to the ceiling with cases full of books.
In the center of the room were two sofas, dark burgundy leather and a small table between them, made from the same wood as Bruces desk. On the other side of the room Jason saw a big fireplace. He heard the wood cracking as the flames were burning it away.
Right next to the fireplace the walls were decorated with pictures, like the ones you‘d only find in museums. There were two windows, on the right side of the table, overseeing a big upkept garden. Jason knew that they‘d driven quiet a while, but somehow he‘d still expected to be able to see Gotham.
Jason had never been outside of Gotham before. He was born and raised beneath the dark shadows and looming skyscrapers. He heard the city whisper it‘s secrets among the city‘s towering structures all his life. The smell of urban grit and smog perpuated his nose since forever.
Here, with the windows tilted, it smelled nothing like that. Jason did not know if the fragrance that tickled his nose was the grass or the flowers outside or something different. But it smelled clean, like when mom had enough spare change to wash their clothes with laundry detergent at the laundromat.
„Do you rather want a tour through the manor or do you want to rest in your room for a while?“ Bruce Wayne asked.
Jason took a deep breath. That had been a shock and Jason certainly had needed quite a time to cope with that enough to follow the man upstairs. He had no outburst or something equally embarassing like that, but he had gaped like a fish on dry land at Batman.
At Bruce fucking Wayne, who wanted him to life at his manor.
Jason wasn‘t really sure if the time it took for him to move his limbs and follow the man upstairs was even enough to really cope with what happened in the past days or if his outburst would happen once he was on his own. Which he really now wanted to be.
„Can I go …“ Jason stopped short, he was really super nervous and his hands shoke. He grabbed the handles of his backpack harder, not looking over his shoulder to Bruce Wayne carrying all the other stuff that they got for him, in the same laundry basked Alfred had used to carry his clothes down to the cave before.
„Whatever you want, Jason,“ the Batman said.
„Room, please,“ Jason cringed. He felt so awkward and out of place in the midst of all these books and pictures, the heavy furniture and the little trinkets here and there. Each and every was probably worth more than anything Jason carried with him.
He threw a glanze to the grandfather clock right to his side. It was dark brown wood with a golden clock face and pendulum and it was taller than him. Jason just wanted to hide from this stuff, even if the soft glow of the vintage lamps created a warm light that would be just perfect to curl up on the armchair, with a book and a blanket.
But that would never happen. Jason knew that he would never willingly step foot inside this home study again, least of all to curl up here and read.
Or was this the only entrance from the manor to the cave? Then he probably would come in here again to go downstairs. He needed to, if he‘d be Robin.
Jason gulped, while following the Batman through the door of the study. Not the one they just came from but another that lead to long hallways with more pictures on the walls and vases and trinkets on ornate side tables and drawers.
Jason wondered if they were grand pieces handed down from generations or if Wayne was a strange rich guy who loved buying in overpriced thrift stores to decorate his big-ass house like it belonged to the last century.
„This is the family wing,“ Bruce Wayne said, after they walked through half a dozen hallways and almost equally as much staircases. He had read the first couple of Harry Potter books back when mom still took him to the library and it reminded him a lot of how he imagined Hogwarts to look like.
He had never come around to read much of the later ones that came out in the last years. They had always been rented out when he went looking for them in the library and he had barely seen a bit here and there of the movies, when they were broadcasted on cable and whoever he lived with zapped through the channels. Maybe he could find them on one of the steaming apps Batman had told him about.
He allowed himself a gaze to the side, at the Bat, who shifted all the stuff, including the Ipad and the workbooks, to one hand to open a door with his free one. He stepped in and put everything down on a dresser right next to the door.
„Dicks Room is right across the door and mine is at the end of the hallway,“ Bruce Wayne explained. Jason just nodded, while taking in the big bedroom with a mix of awe and skepticism.
The furniture was all dark wood. Across from the dresser, right between the wall and a big window overlooking the grounds of Wayne Manor, stood a queen bed with dark blue linen and a folded maroon colored blanket at the foot.
The rug on the floor and the curtains were also dark blue but the light from the lamps at the ceiling and on the side table of the bed bathed the room in a warm glow.
The room was so big, that there was a second window and below it stood a large dark wooden desk with a matching chair. On the other side, was a built-in wardrobe and some almost empty shelves.
For some spare bedroom in the family wing it looked super clean, no dust or anything on any surface and the pillows on the bed looked like they were fluffed up just minutes ago. Why would they give a room like that to some random street trash Batman picked up yesterday night?
„Through the door is the en-suite,“ Bruce Wayne explained, while he pointed at a door next to the big wardrobe. Jason wondered if it was empty too or if there was still stuff from whoever used this room before him.
Did Batman have a habit of picking up strays? Was there a whole bunch of trash kids that knew his secret?
Why would he do that?
„I‘ll leave you for a bit. You can find me in my study, if you need anything. Do you remember the way?“
Jason shrugged his shoulders.
„Sure,“ he mumbled, not at all certain that he really would find his way. But it didn‘t matter. He wouldn‘t run around the hallways. No one could accuse him of sniffling around or worse, of trying to ransack this place.
„Great. I will come and get you for afternoon tea later today.“
„Okay,“ Jason nodded and stared at the closed door, after the man left.
He should run.
Jasons gaze wandered from the door to the stuff Wayne left for him on the dresser. He could take some of the clothes and the big parka, they would keep him warm and he would have stuff to change into or to wear on top of each other on really cold nights.
Jason could grab the Ipad. Of course there was no way to charge it, being some homeless street trash, but it would certainly sell good.
Maybe on his way down he could snatch another trinket or two. Or he could check if there was a kitchen somewhere, grab a few silver spoons and whatever food they had around to get by for a few days.
Jason sunk to the floor, backpack on his lap and his back against the footend of the bed. It felt sturdy. He pushed his head back against it, staring at the ceiling.
He wouldn‘t do it.
Too big was the fear that Batman would find him again. A first time offender, young and desperate as him, was one thing. But trying to steal from the Batman twice - Jason didn‘t have a dead-wish.
He wouldn‘t kill you, his inner voice told him. Maybe he wouldn‘t even hurt him. And that was all the more reason not to steal from Bruce fucking Wayne. Who was Batman.
How did he land here? Freaking shit-show. But also kinda awesome. Jason was just some random street rat. For him to land up in Wayne Manor was a freaking one in a million chance. To be offered Robin was even more … just unbelievable.
Below that mask, Robin had a normal life. He went to college. College, that was the ultimate goal. Nobody Jason really knew had ever finished college. Jason would do anything for this chance. Anything!