Work Text:
“Alright, class, we have about ten minutes of work left before recess! Time to start cleaning up your art supplies.”
Even though Jason heard Ms. Cheryl, he still took another minute or two to work on his painting. He had just started stippling a layer of leaves onto his tree, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to mix this exact colour of green next time. As soon as the leaves looked good, though, he dropped his paintbrush into his little cup of water and took a second to look at the whole thing.
He was kinda proud of it, actually. Ms. Cheryl had told them all to paint something that made them think of home, and his tree looked a lot like the one that was right next to Alfred’s vegetable garden. Through the whole thing, Jason had worked really hard to think about different colours and shadows and stuff just like Damian had been teaching him with drawing at home.
“Great work, Jason,” Ms. Cheryl said as she came over to him.
He smiled and swirled his paintbrush in the water. “Thanks. I really like this one.”
“You deserve to feel proud of your work. Your artistic skills have really grown this year.”
“Yeah it’s, um, cause my brother Dami gives me lessons all the time at home.”
“And because you’ve been working hard on it.”
“...yeah. I guess that, too.” His smile got even bigger. It was always nice when Ms. Cheryl said that kind of stuff. It made him feel like a completely normal kid.
“Well, just remember that the Pathways Art Showcase is coming up. This would be a worthwhile entry.”
“Oh.” Jason froze in his spot. A hot feeling started to crawl into his cheeks. “Um… maybe.”
Just like that, he all of a sudden wasn’t feeling like a normal kid at all. He knew that (besides the vigilante training stuff) he was pretty much the same as any other eight-year-old kid, but it still made him feel kinda weird to think about showing off stuff he’d been learning in school at the same time as everyone else. Because what if he did have some kind of weird advantage? Or what if he sucked? Either way, it made him squirm to think about it.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” Ms. Cheryl said in a casual voice that still somehow sounded like she was trying really hard. She knew all about Jason’s weird hangups with this, even if she had no clue why he had them. “What really matters is that you’ve completed something you feel good about. Are you ready to take off the painter’s tape yet?”
“Uh… maybe next class?” Jason looked at the bright green tape that marked off the border of his paper. “I still have more shading I want to do.”
Ms. Cheryl smiled. “Sure, honey. Just make sure you rewrite your name whenever you end up doing it, okay? An artist should always sign his work.”
She went to help some of the other kids, but Jason was still thinking about what she said as he washed his brush and put away all his other supplies. It wasn’t really anything new. Ms. Cheryl always put that tape border around their papers before they started a painting project, and she always wrote their names with Sharpie on the tape so everyone’s stuff didn’t get mixed up. They’d usually have to write their names on the back or whatever once they were done with the painting, but the way she’d said it this time…
Jason didn’t have a signature. Not a real one. He just always printed his name on the top of all his school papers and sometimes put a W behind it just in case. After a bunch of practicing and relearning, his printing was neat and tidy but kinda boring, still way different from the way he used to write. And back then, he hadn’t had a signature either.
Sure, he wrote stuff down and gave fake names and fake signatures in a bunch of places, but there had been literally nowhere that he could sign ‘Jason Todd’ on something and have it be real. That name had died back when he’d been fifteen and no one really needed a fifteen-year-old’s signature on anything either.
Jason was relearning cursive writing this year. That meant he could figure out a signature, couldn’t he? Sure, his handwriting looked a little plain and simple right now since he was still learning how to do it out of copybooks just like he had with the printing, but with some practice he could probably figure out a way to write ‘Jason Wayne’ that was just as cool as the way grownup signatures looked.
The idea was still stuck in his head at the end of the day. Alfred had come to pick him up this time, and it was kinda fun because he’d already got Duke from visiting his parents in the hospital, so Jason actually got to ride home from school with him.
“I trust you had a good day?” Alfred asked once they were all buckled in.
Jason nodded. “Uh huh. It was chicken nugget day at lunch.”
“Ah. A banner day indeed, then.”
“Yep. And, oh, I got to pick a new history project. I think I’m gonna do something about Abraham Lincoln.”
“That sounds worthwhile.”
“And there’s that art showcase happening soon,” Duke all of a sudden added in. “I bet you’re gonna submit something for that, huh?”
Jason snapped his head away from the window and stared at the back of Duke’s seat. “Well, I haven’t really, um, decided on that yet.”
“Oh, okay.” Duke shrugged. “I just figured you would because you’re into that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, I… I guess…” Jason’s eyes wandered back to the window and then he let out a sigh. “I didn’t used to be. It’s just because— you know, Dami likes it, so…” So of course Jason would. He was a typical kid brother who loved to copy his big brother with literally every little thing he could. And he really liked the idea of being able to show off his painting to Damian at a fancy school showcase.
“It’s perfectly natural to develop new interests and skills,” Alfred said.
Jason bit his lip and shrugged. Yeah, that was happening a lot with him. He was super good at acrobatic shit, too, way better than he ever was before. It was really fun learning it from Dick, though, and of course it was that whole big-and-little-brother thing all over again that felt like an even bigger deal now that Jason was a kid and not a teenager. He was more ‘impressionable’ at this age and there were all sorts of ways that Jason was changing.
A lot of it was good, and none of it was bad, so… it wasn’t like Jason wanted to stop it. But it’s why the whole signature thing was sticking in his brain. This was something that he could actually choose about himself. He could plan it all out and decide the coolest version of it instead of just falling into something and then getting all surprised once it was too late to change anything. Like how he was somehow an ‘artsy kid’ without even meaning for it to happen.
His signature was gonna be different. It was gonna be his choice.
Bruce stepped into his study and smiled. Jason was there, hard at work while he bent over his child-sized desk and scribbled into a notebook. It was a sight that Bruce always appreciated seeing, and he indulged in it for another few seconds. There was that pucker of concentration on Jason’s face, that pinch from how he bit his lip, and that way he quietly hummed to himself every once in a while.
That last one was happening less often compared to when Jason had been only six, and Bruce was very studiously not thinking about how that was one more piece of evidence of how his son was growing up way too fast. Instead, he cleared his throat slightly and let his footsteps fall a little heavier, signalling to Jason that he was in the room.
“Oh.” Jason’s head snapped up, and he closed his notebook at the exact same time. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, Jay. Need any help with your homework?”
“No! I’m, uh, I’m good.”
“Is it math?” Bruce stepped closer, smoothing his hand over Jason’s shoulders. “You’re working on long division now, right?”
“Yeah, but I already figured out how to do that! This is just— Something else.” His gaze shifted restlessly from Bruce to the closed notebook, clearly telegraphing his discomfort.
“Hm.” Bruce knew he shouldn’t pry. He had years of parenting experience telling him not to. Luckily, Jason never could keep a secret from anyone anymore, and he gave in before Bruce said anything else.
“Fine! It’s just— I’m trying to figure it out.” He opened the notebook.
A stream of cursive writing spilled across the page. There were varying sizes and experimental flourishes and all sorts of styles, but the words remained the same: Jason Wayne.
“Oh,” Bruce said. He couldn’t find any other words at the moment. Seeing that name always brought him a thrill of happiness and then realizing that Jason had clearly been trying to figure out a signature of some kind amplified Bruce’s emotions all the more. It was very sweet. This sort of childlike idealization of adult behaviour wasn’t something that Jason did all the time, but whenever he did…
Jason sighed. “Nothing looks right yet.”
“Hm.” Pulling himself together, Bruce skimmed down the page with more focus. “I could help you—”
“No! Dad! You can’t—” With a growl, Jason shook his head. “I can’t have my dad plan my signature. It’s gotta be me!”
“I don’t think there’s a rule, Jay.”
“Well, I decided! Some stuff I have to figure out for myself.”
“Sure, but, you don’t have to do anything like that yet. You’re still a kid.”
A frown twitched across Jason’s face. “I know. But I can still… do stuff.”
Something in Bruce’s chest tightened “I know that. I didn’t mean—”
“And I actually do need a signature cause I’m doing that art showcase at Pathways! I’m gonna sign my work and it’s gonna—”
“Wait.” Bruce shook his head. “You’re doing the showcase? Since when?”
“Since, like, yesterday? I still have to finish my painting, but it’s looking really good.”
“You haven’t mentioned it before.”
“Yeah, so?” Jason flipped his pen around with his fingers. “I wasn’t sure about it and then I decided. It’s not like… I mean, I don’t need to ask you if I can or anything, right?”
“No… No, of course not.” Bruce kneaded his fingers into his forehead and then flashed what he hoped was an encouraging look to Jason. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You usually tell me what’s going on at school.”
Jason shrugged. “It wasn’t like I was keeping it a secret or anything. I literally just decided and the showcase isn’t for another couple weeks.”
“Right.” It was just that… Jason always told Bruce everything about school.
At times, it felt like he was physically incapable of keeping something private even if he wanted to. The bright, rambling summary of the school day had been Bruce’s soundtrack for the ride back to the manor for over a year now, and there was always even more information to unload when Bruce tucked Jason in at night. That was the nature of a child his age: always eager to share, always seeking to update Bruce (and many others) about every single detail that flashed through his head.
Was that changing now? Jason couldn’t possibly be growing out of his childhood this quickly, could he? He was still only eight years old; there should be plenty of years left before—
“Dad?” Jason’s eyes narrowed into a slight frown. “You’re being weird.”
Bruce shook himself out of it. “Sorry. I wasn’t— I’m glad you decided to do the art showcase. I’m sure lots of people would love to come out to support you.”
“Okay. It’ll, um… be cool to have people there.” A shy smile tugged on Jason’s lips. It was huge progress compared to how he used to react to people coming to his school events, and at least that was something Bruce could enjoy.
He gave Jason’s earlobe a gentle tug. “I know Damian will for sure be proud.”
The smile on Jason’s face got even bigger. Then, he set his face in concentration. “But I still wanna figure out the signature on my own.”
Bruce felt his own expression echo Jason’s. “Alright. I won’t interfere, I promise.”
“Kay.” Twiddling the pen once more, Jason turned back to his notebook. “I know you got Batman stuff to work on, anyway, right?”
Yes, Bruce always had work in the cave that needed to be done. But as he descended the stairs and made his way to the Batcomputer, he found it difficult to stay motivated.
Every day, the evidence was mounting more and more: Jason was growing up. He was becoming independent, separating himself from Bruce and working to stand on his own. There would be an increasing number of things that Jason would want to keep to himself and eventually Bruce wouldn’t even know—
“I think those are the saddest looking shoulders I’ve seen in years.” Dick’s voice echoed against the cave walls as his light footsteps carried him closer.
Bruce turned his chair around, automatically straightening his posture even though he knew it’d make his feelings even more obvious. It wasn’t like he could ever hide much from Dick anyway.
“I wasn’t aware you were stopping by today.”
Dick shrugged. “I’ve got a lead that’s spread from Blüd to Gotham. Figured I might as well get some of Alfred’s cooking in me before I track it down tonight. What’s got you so misera— Oh. You really are a glutton for punishment, huh?”
“Hn.” Maybe he was, but Bruce also knew he needed to complete the project that he’d pulled up. Jason had asked for a framework of when and how he’d be able to come back into the field, and Bruce had promised he’d give it serious consideration. “This is your fault, you know. I know you spoke with him about it.”
Dick grinned teasingly. “Oh, c’mon, B, I didn’t tell him anything he wasn’t already thinking. I just helped…organize things, I guess.”
“Hm.” Bruce took another look at his mostly blank file. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get started and ended up stalling out.
“Where’s Jay at, anyway? I promised him I’d let him teach me some kind of Minecraft thing next time I was over.”
“Upstairs. He’s trying to figure out how he wants to sign his name. Apparently, it’s an involved process.”
A huff of laughter escaped Dick. “Cute.”
Bruce shifted, protective instincts bubbling up inside. “He’s taking it very seriously.”
“Ah. Gotcha. I’ll be nice; don’t worry.”
Bruce didn’t. He never had to with Dick. Out of the two of them, Bruce was far more likely to completely miss the emotional repercussions of his actions. That empty framework taunted him all the more. It was almost a guarantee that he’d make an error with this; the only question was how terrible the consequences would be.
Dick leaned in closer to the screen. “You know, you could always put him off for a while.”
Eyebrow raised, Bruce turned back to his oldest son. “You think that would have worked for you?”
“Well, no. But I was a different case. Jay loves you. When I was his age, I hadn’t figured that out yet.”
But Bruce shook his head. “It’s not going to… He’ll push back. Eventually.”
They all did. And Bruce had finally learned that pushing back inevitably led to pushing away. To more distance, to firm boundaries, to a wall of separation that was far more painful than that initial burst of independence.
“He’s already wanting to do more for himself,” he confessed. “I don’t know how much longer…”
Dick rolled his eyes, gently exasperated and yet still willing to walk Bruce through this. “He’s eight. You’ve got a long time yet.”
Bruce shrugged a single, tight shoulder.
“Bruce, seriously. He’s still a kid who needs his dad, and even when he’s totally grown up and living on his own and everything all over again… he’s going to need you for some stuff. Plus, there’s always going to be a part of him that comes from you. Trust me, I know.” His blue eyes stared straight into Bruce, effortlessly pulling on that unique connection they’d shared for years and years.
It was always hard to swim through such dense emotion, but it was like any kind of skill; it got better with training. With a serious nod, and something approaching an outward smile, Bruce clapped his hand on Dick’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Thanks, chum.”
Dick flashed a bright, sure smile. “Anytime.”
With that comfortable, connected feeling still between them, Bruce turned back to his file. He sighed.
“I don’t suppose you have any thoughts for this.”
“Maybe a few, but…” Dick shrugged. “You're his dad. I think it’s got to be up to you.”
“Hn.”
As always, Dick was right: Bruce was Jason’s father. Not only that; Jason was also the youngest out of all the kids Bruce had parented. Bruce was caring for him in a way that was unique compared to any other child aiming for a seat in the Batmobile.
Somehow, that made all of this even more difficult.
When Jason first realized he’d be stuck growing up all over again, the idea of maybe having to go to school really freaked him out. A ton of stuff had changed for him since then. He’d forgotten a bunch of shit that you had to go to school to learn, he’d realized that his emotions were way closer to what a kid’s were compared to an adult’s, and his brain had also changed to the point where even the way he thought was different. But even if none of that had happened, he wondered if the idea of school wouldn’t have been so scary if he’d known that he’d end up going to a place that was as cool as Gotham Pathways.
The whole art showcase event was happening right after school, and some of the high school kids had turned half the gym into something that actually looked like a gallery. There were black curtains hung up everywhere and all the art was displayed on easels or pedestals with cool little labels on each one. There was a table with fun snacks and drinks and everything, and everyone was supposed to ‘mingle around’ and look at all the kids’ work.
“Is this what it’s like at a real gallery?” Jason asked as Bruce loaded up a snack plate for him. He really wanted to show Bruce his tree, but Bruce said they’d have to eat something first, and maybe that was a good idea. Jason hadn’t had an after-school snack yet, so he was hungry.
“It’s pretty similar to some of the opening parties I’ve been to,” Bruce said. “I don’t get out to them very often, but you’re welcome to come with me sometime.”
Jason wrinkled his nose. “No thanks. Dami might want to, though.”
“Hm. That’s a good thought.”
They left the snack table so that there was room for more people, and as they walked away, Jason reached for the plate. But Bruce didn’t hand it over.
Jason frowned. “I’m not gonna spill anything.”
“Just until we get through the crowd, Jay.”
“Dad—” Jason bit off the rest of what he was going to say. Making a big stink about not being allowed to hold his own plate was just gonna prove how much of a little kid he was being. Even though it was annoying and frustrating and everything that Bruce didn’t even trust Jason with a plate of crackers and cheese.
Bruce stopped walking and took another look at the people who were wandering all around the gym in different directions. Then he looked back down at Jason. It took him a second longer before he finally handed the plate over.
Jason took it, carefully balancing the food. There was no fucking way he was gonna let himself drop a single crumb now that he’d made such a big deal about the whole thing.
And he was gonna be fine, anyway. He could handle a stupid plate, even though he was surrounded by a bunch of people who were way taller than him and it was always hard to walk around like that.
They got to the far wall where there was an empty bench. Jason sat on it with Bruce beside him. He stacked up a little cracker and cheese sandwich and then put the whole thing into his mouth in one bite. The sooner he finished with the snack, the sooner they’d go to see Jason’s painting and—
“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, totally out of nowhere.
Jason swallowed his mouthful. “Okay…”
“I know you can— that you’re capable. And becoming more independent as you grow up.”
Jason froze just as he crammed in his next mouthful of cheese. Because… yeah. He was getting more independent. He just didn’t think Bruce was gonna get all weird and start talking about it in the middle of snacktime at Pathways.
But once Bruce actually got going with this kind of thing, it was never a good idea to stop him. So, Jason nodded while he chewed and swallowed. His mouth felt kind of dry now and he took a sip from his juice box before he said, “Uh, yeah. I mean, a little bit. But I’m still…”
He waved his hand around, knowing that Bruce would get what he meant. They were still in his fucking elementary school getting ready to look at a painting of a tree that Jason had done. He wasn’t that grown up.
Bruce nodded and sat a bit more forward on the little bench. His legs were too long for how low the seat was, but he made it work. “I know that, Jay. And I hope you understand that I’m… trying. To be better. I know you need space and… Even if I’m not always needed—”
“Well, I still need you! I’m still— You know, really stupid excited that you’re here for this.” Without meaning to, Jason ducked his head down to stare at his food, and he forced himself to look up at Bruce again. He really needed to make sure his dad got this. “I don’t want you to stop doing this kind of thing. I just… sometimes want to do things a little on my own.”
He didn’t even really know when that ‘sometimes’ even was, which made it all harder. But Bruce nodded seriously like it made total sense and then he put his arm around Jason in a way that could maybe be a hug but also didn’t have to be one if Jason didn’t want it. Jason scooted a bit closer. Then he ate his last bite of cracker.
“All done?” Bruce asked.
“Yep. Now we can finally see my painting, right?” Maybe it was a good idea for Jason to eat something before they went over because he always got really cranky if he was hungry, but now that was all dealt with, and they could get to the good part.
He took his plate to the trash himself and then tugged at Bruce’s beltloop, leading them towards the elementary side of the exhibit.
“Mine’s right at the back; Duke said he saw it when his class was setting up stuff before.”
“Hm. Alfred texted a few minutes ago, by the way. He’ll be here with Duke and Damian in around thirty minutes.”
“Cool. That means you still get to see it first.” They got around the corner and moved between a few other families who were looking at their kid’s art and then finally you could see Jason’s tree.
He thought it looked pretty good, even if it wasn’t as detailed as Claudia’s painting. It wasn’t like Jason needed to be the best at this, anyway. It was just fun to be able to do something he liked, and it was really great that he got to show it to his dad like this.
“I made the leaves like it’s spring because that’s what season we’re in, but I think it looks coolest in the fall,” he said as they stood in front of the painting. “And I had to let the paint dry a bunch of times to make all the different layers of green and Ms. Cheryl said that—”
He stopped for a second, because Bruce was staring at the painting, but he wasn’t staring at the tree. He was looking at Jason’s signature that was down in the bottom right corner.
“What’s wrong?” Jason asked. It had taken him forever to figure something out that looked cool, but he’d thought it was good…
Bruce gave his head a shake. “Nothing’s wrong. Just… I recognize that ‘W’.” He pointed his finger out, almost touching the first letter in ‘Wayne’ but not all the way.
Jason felt his face get warm. “Oh. Yeah. I always kinda liked how you did yours. And, well, the rest of it is different, so I figure it’s okay, right? I know you’re not supposed to totally copy someone’s signature, but—”
“Jay.” Bruce put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I think it’s great.”
A tiny smile fought to get out onto Jason’s face. “You do?”
“Of course. I’m— honoured. That you want to take that piece of me with you.”
Jason rolled his eyes a little. Trust Bruce to make this whole thing way more dramatic than it actually was. But also… it was kind of a thing. And, yeah, Jason definitely wanted to ‘take his dad with him’ as he grew up.
The smile pushed even bigger onto Jason’s face, and he knocked his shoulder against Bruce’s side.
Bruce snuck a kiss right on top of Jason’s head. Even though he was doing that at school, he did it so quick that no one else probably got a chance to see, so it was okay.
“Now,” Bruce said as he tugged Jason a little closer. “Tell me all about this painting of yours.”
And Jason was so ready.