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Social media is a vain thing. That's what they say. Portraying what you want for the world to see. For some, it's a way of revenue, a way of connecting to the outside world, a mask to slip into when they don’t want you to see beyond it. A safety net.
At first glance, you’d think that Bruce Wayne’s Instagram looks like any other celebrity. The glamorous photoshoots, galas, and initiatives of Wayne Enterprises say it all.
But DM any fan and they’ll tell you their incredibly long theory of how @brucewayne has a PR team managing the posts, but the stories? That’s all Brucie. There you’d find the pictures of his youngest on a walk with the dog, or his oldest at the trapeze. A photo of his dinner, badly cropped. A location tagged as Wayne Enterprises when visiting his middle son or his daughter dancing in the living room. One thing was clear, the man loved his children more than anything. On the stories, there was little pretense, just an excited dad being proud of his children.
And sure they would make his feed on special occasions. They would pop up at the events he’d attend but not like his stories where you’d see the daily life of the Waynes.
These two worlds existed almost separately from each other, barely touching. Content to each be their own thing.
But once a year, that would overlap.
The first year there was nothing until well into the night. 3:04 AM a simple post appears. A grinning boy beaming at the camera with a new book in his hands.
‘the book is still where you left it. I miss you, son.’
In the morning the PR team is scrambling answering questions and declining interview requests. The Waynes are deep into mourning, not ready to talk. They didn’t even know that Bruce knew how to post on the main feed but who are they to judge a grieving father?
They thought maybe it would stay like that, especially when Bruce came back into the public eye once more. A year later, they proposed a scale of memorial posts, all were declined. Yet that morning another post appeared. More signs of Bruce showed up and after a straight week of him using the stories they gave up and just started including him in their meeting notes.
The slew of emojis they got back was interpreted, as positive. And so it came to be, @Brucewayne was run by five 27-year-olds during the day and by a bumbling playboy turned doting father at night. The strategists and the heart.
No shield, no real strategy. No, as the fans would tell you, Bruce his Instagram was honest.
—--------
“So, you got an Instagram?”
He blinked lazily at the girl in front of him.
“What?”
She’s wearing the kind of athleisurewear that has recently become popular in the U.S., but returning to life and subsequently spending the last two years anywhere but here Jason didn’t quite get the trend. It did seem oddly fitting for the location, considering they were standing in front of a trendy coffee shop on the edge of Crime Alley. He had stopped to tie his shoe on one of the chairs outside when she approached him.
“Well, you know Instagram? If you don’t totally respect it, my screen time is waaayy too much but like I love following cool people and I’d love to see you sometime.”
She was unnecessarily moving her ponytail, and he wondered if she was giving some sign. Maybe a secret League of Assassins code? He frowned trying to figure out the pattern in her body language. He hadn’t been in Gotham long, having only arrived a few weeks ago but he had big plans. He’d show his no-good dad that the prodigal son has returned. It was a plan full of dramatics and duffle bags full of heads. He was thinking maybe fireworks too, just to make it pop you know? But if Talia needed him she could’ve sent him a text, he didn’t need this girl to give him weird signs.
Seeing his frown the girl stopped swaying and made a face.
“You know, you can also be a decent person. I just asked you out. Nothing special.” She decidedly turned around and walked away. Her ponytail swung from side to side while the ice in her iced latte sounded. Seeing her walk away got Jason out of his focused daze. Huh, maybe she wasn’t from the League? Why would she have talked to him? He shuddered while walking away giving the girl one last glance. He should pay this street a visit tonight. Shoot a few shots in the sky, and make sure the rent prices stay down.
—----
As it turns out. Being a full-time crime lord could also be quite boring. The nightmares were keeping him up but due to the scuffle he had gotten in last night he hadn’t made it back to his primary safehouse. So he was stuck at his secondary one with nothing but his phone as entertainment. Training as an assassin for the last three years had left Jason with little knowledge of the app store and he was this close to redownloading Angry Birds as that was the only app he could remember. He’d gotten an iPad from Bruce at some point but Dick had set it up for him. Jason had been given free reign but once faced with the options it had soon become overwhelming.
His mind drifted to the encounter from a few days ago. The girl outside of the coffee shop. She had asked for his Instagram and in retrospect he’d looked pretty stupid not even remembering that was a thing. Pretty dumb considering Dick and even Bruce used to be obsessed with it. By the time Dick had turned 20, he had built up quite a social media following, and their dad, although being a total fool with it had taken to the idea of sharing pictures of children on his official Instagram stories. Jason remembered making fun of the old man while he’d try and take a picture of the cookies he baked together with Alfred only for the picture to turn out terrible. Huh, he hadn’t thought about his dad like that in a long time.
Too bad that life was over now.
He subconsciously shivered, sitting all alone in his safehouse which was not really anything more than an abandoned building. He was right back where he started huh? All alone with no big nice fancy billionaire to take care of him. It wasn’t a surprise. Not really. Talia had told him as much when he came out of the pit. Bruce had forgotten and replaced him. Only thinking about his replacement made his blood boil. Had Bruce ever really cared about him? Probably not. Because every night he went out with that bloody helmet and Crime Alley shouting his name Jason was confronted with the reality of being forgotten. His legacy was forgotten. In his death, Batman hadn’t even taken an interest in the place so dear to Jason’s heart. No, from what he’d heard, the big Bat was avoiding the place like the plague, leaving its citizens to fend for themselves. Jason wouldn’t stand for that. Even if Bruce didn’t want him anymore he still had a place to call home even if it was a shithole.
Fuck, that was the bad thing about being bored. Your mind started going crazy.
Without trying to think too much about he clicked on download for Instagram.
USERNAME:
PASSWORD:
Maybe it was a bit reckless to use his usual email for this but something about this made him rebellious. Talia would never approve of him using Instagram, neither would Bruce. He chuckled,
USERNAME: little_wing
PASSWORD: FUCKbatman1
He didn’t want to think why he used that username. It felt like part of the joke, a taunt under Dicks nose that between the millions of followers his little brother was actually hiding in plain sight.
Wait why would he follow his ex-brother? He was doing this out of boredom. Not to get his family back. The fucker hadn’t even come to his funeral.
The app refreshed and Jason was confronted with the actual app. The emptiness of his home page stared back at him. Let's change that username first he thought wryly. It was funny filling it out but now that it was his actual name Jason didn’t feel okay with it at all. While he clicked through the settings he was confronted with the fact that you couldn’t change it for the next 30 days.
Well, @little_wing wasn’t going anywhere soon apparently.
He groaned tempted to throw the phone across the room.
“Hi, Dick, can I follow you on Instagram? It's just me, your dead, little, brother you hate.” He muttered up to the ceiling. The ceiling didn’t respond, the dickhead. Dick would probably ignore him too. After all, Jason was no longer family so he had no real obligation to talk to him anymore. He rolled on his stomach and pulled his phone close to him again. Cautiously he pulled up the search bar. He wasn’t even halfway through typing the name out before the result pulled up.
@Dick.Grayson the profile picture showed his brother abroad. Probably a BTS from a TItans mission faked as a vacation.
Jason clicked on his profile. The pictures showed familiar faces and a few new ones. People he used to know, Replacement was there.
He was so focussed on the faces in the pictures he almost read over Dick’s bio.
Gotham - Bludhaven
Gym instructor: @bludhavenreps
27-04-20xx Miss you 4ever Jay<3
Jason blinked, staring at his phone. In the last sentence, at that date. That was his date. That was his name. Before Bruce, no one had ever really called him Jay. His mom had all different nicknames for him, and his dad was never around too much to even consider giving him a nickname. On the streets, you didn’t really have a name. It wasn’t until the stability of the manor he’d heard his name being shortened while someone called him for dinner.
Why would Dick mention him like this? Dick hated him.
He scrolled downwards, not wanting to deal with the implications. His mind was racing a thousand miles an hour when he spotted Bruce in a picture with Dick. It was a shared post, they were smiling at some fundraising event. Jason couldn’t read the name behind them but why did it look suspiciously like it started with a J…
Bruce used to name everything after his mother, what made him change that?
He wanted to return to Dick’s page but clicked wrong. This little mistake landed him on Bruce’s page. Bruce clearly didn’t post as much as his son and the first thing Jason saw was not his father, not his brothers, but himself.
A picture of him curled up on his favorite sofa in the library. A beaten-up book on his lap Jason was highlighted in rare sunshine coming from the window.
“Three years and I still can’t go any place that belonged to you. I miss you so much Jaylad. You officially got a little brother this year, just like you always wanted. I wish you could’ve met him, you would’ve been such a good big brother.”
Some people say that to feel at home your feet should always be warm. Jason’s feet had never been warm before he came to live with Bruce. After coming back to life they had been cold ever since. At Bruce’s, he’d have warm socks and blankets and hugs. Oh the hugs, the human contact he was allowed to snuggle into and fall back into whenever he wanted. Jason didn’t realize he was crying until he did. Through a blurring view of the tears, he scrolled down. There, another.
“We keep forgetting you’re not here anymore. Alfred keeps setting your place at the dinner table, if only you could come home son.”
He closed his eyes and let the feelings wash over him. This was his dad. This was not some celebrity trying to score some brownie points, nor a PR firm would ever post this. This was his dad actually remembering him. Asking him to come home.
His big brother remembered him too.
Jason was not forgotten?
His thumb moved over the screen. Liking the picture. He scrolled upwards to the other one and liked that too. In the comment section, he could see his brother leaving paragraphs about him. He liked that too. If he liked Replacement’s comment too no one had to know.
Then he followed both.
He sighed and put the phone away. Great, exactly what he didn’t need, another emotional breakdown. Just another day huh?
—---
“So… I got a weird lead I want you to look into.” Dick frowned when he picked up the phone. Hearing those words from Babs usually didn’t promise anything positive.
“Please don’t say it's flying monkeys. I’m only just done with those huge butterflies.”
“No nothing of that kind, it's more of a personal… matter.”
He sighed. Great, emotions.
“Hit me.”
“I have some algorithms set up that monitor all our social media for weird or conspicuous behavior under our followers. Usually to kinda weed out the pedophiles or such but I got a weird alert this morning.”
Dick stayed quiet waiting for her to continue.
“Someone started liking all the pictures of Jason on you and Bruce’s Instagram.”
“Maybe its some journalist doing a piece on-”
“No Dick shut up. I wasn’t too worried either but their username… It’s Little_wing.”
The line went quiet from both sides. Little Wing. Jason’s nickname. No one outside the family would know that and none of them would use the name like this. Dick felt rage bubbling up in him.
“What kind of sick joke…” He started,
“I bypassed the VPN and traced the IP address back to a phone located in Crime Alley. They haven’t moved since making the account this morning.” Barbara didn’t have to say more because Dick was already walking out of the door.
“I’m on my way send me the address.”
In retrospect going out on a whim in civvies might’ve not been the best idea Dick realized while he pulled up to the abandoned building in his two thousand dollar sneakers. He definitely stood out like this, even more, if the person actually knew who he was.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t hold back and he let himself melt into the shadows and climbed up the fire escape. How dare this person use his beloved little brother's nickname and taint it like this. He scaled up to the second floor and tried to look inside the fogged-up windows. Whoever it was, their place looked like shit. Barely anything in it with all the telltale signs of decay. It reminded him of their worst safehouses. Places barely good enough to hide in for a few hours.
A figure got up from the couch and made their way towards the bedroom. They seemed broad. Young too although from what Dick could see their body was littered with scars. He disappeared for a moment and back out emerged a guy in a League of Assasins uniform with a red hood. Could this be that new guy that they had started to hear about in the streets? The one threatening drug dealers with guns? As he watched the guy, now his face hidden strap guns to his body he was most likely on the money there.
Dick was seething. This assassin knew personal information about them and was using that to take over Gotham. Not on his watch. He double-tapped his comms to enter the main channel.
“B you out yet?”
An affirmative grunt came from the other side.
“Great, I need you for some backup, let's meet at the corner on 10th in 15.”
An unhappy hum and Dick grimaced. Bruce definitely wouldn’t be happy about the lack of information or the meeting spot. A bit too close to Crime Alley for his liking probably but Dick didn’t thrust himself to go at this alone, not with how it went with the clown. He took one last look at the assassin who seemed to be ready to head about now. He hated the fact that he’d have to leave him but he couldn’t exactly confront him as Dick Grayson. So he fell back getting his suit and making his way to meet Batman.
—--
Jason had once spent a month with a hacker in London during his training. The guy had been part of the small but extremely competent IT department of the League. In a very unassuming rowhouse in the suburbs, he had been taught the ins and outs of the online world.
The most interesting thing however was that while his trainer had made it his life mission to encrypt anything and everything about himself online. One evening, while being high as fuck, he’d entrusted Jason that the only thing he could not touch was his mother's Facebook. Where she posted pictures of him, every, fucking, day. Jason remembered laughing so hard, a little high by extension, he couldn’t imagine having a Facebook parent.
Turns out he didn’t have to imagine it. His fucking dad was one.
He allowed the world to turn slightly green while he was getting ready to go out. He’d punch his frustrations out tonight. Annoy Batman a little more. That how this whole thing was supposed to go. Or at least that was the plan until he was about to leave and found himself staring at his phone one last time.
Fuck Bruce for posting that picture!
Yeah, fuck him. Jason was climbing out of the window upwards to the roof.
Who did he think he was, his dad? He thought while he shot out his grappling gun.
The man had never loved him, why was he pretending to do so now? He saw a flash of blue moving on a building ahead of him.
That last picture had been him and Dick just after acrobatics training. Jason had been smiling to the camera, with a missing tooth freshly knocked out the week before. That had been a fun day…. Jason followed the blue shadow.
He followed it all the way to a roof just outside of the Alley. Where Nightwing seemed to meet up with Batman. This spot used to be his favorite spot for post-patrol snacks for him with his dad…
This was all his dad’s fault. His dad was posting those stupid pictures, and he was being all so sentimental. Talia expressly told him that Bruce had forgotten him. Replaced and not revenged. Could the old man not keep to the script, someone ought to tell him.
Before he could really stop himself he found himself across from his brother and dad on the roof.
“You.” Snarled Dick, shifting into a stance ready to fight. Glad to see at least someone stuck to the script.
“No, this is not about you shut up.” Jason was suddenly happy with his brand-new vocoder. He moved towards Batman.
“You.” He pointed at his dad.
“Get yourself together. What the fuck have you been posting. You knew I hated that picture. Can you just be a bad father and skip the whole pretending you loved me bit?”
A wingding flew past him but Jason was better than that and dodged it easily. The Bat still hadn’t reacted to his presence. Instead, Dick threw himself in front of his father.
“You have no right to speak. Stealing a nickname without truly knowing what it means.”
Jason gulped, of course, they’d seen his account name. If he could he’d go back in time and strangle his earlier self for being so stupid. Well, he’s not backing down now.
“You can’t take back nicknames Dickface. I own Little Wing even if you fucking replaced me.”
If they all shuddered when he said the name you didn’t see it.
“How the fuck do you know the name?” The question went paired with Nightwing moving in, trying to get Jason off his feet.
“What happened to asking questions first and shooting later?” Jason quipped back, keeping up with his brother's punches.
“That was gone the moment you sullied my little brother's name.” Dick snarled, his punches becoming sharper, more lethal.
Jason pushed himself out of the fight taking several steps back and pulled his hood back and his vocoder down causing a standstill.
The three stared at each other.
“I used to miss you know.”
Dicks hands fell to his side.
“I used to crawl up in my bed imagining I was sore from acrobatic training instead of All Caste training. That you’d be getting me for breakfast in the morning. It took me a year after Talia told me you guys replaced me that it really sank in.”
Jason was trembling. Dick was slowly moving towards him. Batman was…
“I get it. I was just a project you got bored of. Replaced by a better model and not worth revenging. All I ask is that you stop posting about me on Instagram!” He’d somehow ended up screaming and closed his eyes waiting for the response. Something rushed into him and he felt two strong arms around his middle, squeezing him tight.
“Little Wing…” Dick whispered.
Both were crying, both not fully realizing what was going on. They stayed like this for a while when a quiet voice usually so devoid of emotion called out horse by emotion.
“Jaylad..”
Jason blinked the tears out of his eyes and looked towards where Batman had been standing. The vigilante was on his knees. The cowl was off and he was seeing his dad, cry?
“Dad?” Jason sounded years younger.
That’s all it took for the man to come rushing forward and join the hug. His tears welled up once again when he felt his dad hug him and he leaned his head against his shoulder.
“Come home, Little Wing. Please come home with us.” Dick was looking at his brother as the 9th world wonder. Jason took a breath and considered. He had plans. He wanted revenge. He needed them to understand what he went through. They had told him Batman didn’t want his second son, that he was a failure not meant to come home. But…
“Only if you stop posting those embarrassing pictures on Instagram.”
And a then miracle happened.
Batman laughed.