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Jason was picking at his food and Bruce was Concerned™.
“Is everything… alright?” Bruce was careful to keep his voice casual. Even after three months of living in the manor, Jason still wasn’t totally comfortable voicing complaints. Bruce tried to let him know through his words and actions that Jason wasn’t going to be thrown out onto the streets at a moment’s notice, but his new ward was prickly and sensitive. Often Bruce’s attempts at reassurance only seemed to make things worse.
“Yeah.” Jason didn’t look up from his plate of casserole, his shoulders slumped. “I’m fine.”
Bruce did not believe him, but he knew better than to tell him so. Instead he turned his attention back to his own dinner, slowly chewing his way through another few mouthfuls. He watched Jason push his food around from the corner of his eye, concern only growing. It wasn’t the first time he’d sat through a dinner with a picky child. Dick used to do the same thing every other day, much to Alfred’s dismay. Jason was not Dick, however, and this was the first time that Bruce had ever seen Jason not eat food that was put in front of him. A lifetime of going without more often than not had erased any childlike fussiness that Jason might have once had over food. He ate whatever he was given and never once let slip a single sign of discontent.
Something was definitely wrong.
“How was school today?” Bruce asked. There was no way that Jason was going to admit outright what was bothering him, so it was time for a sideways approach.
Jason shrugged. “It was okay.” He said, a sullen note creeping into his voice. “We started Romeo and Juliet today in English.”
Bruce waited a moment, but it seemed like that was all Jason had to say about school. “You’ll have to tell Alfred.” He said. “He loves Shakespeare. I’m sure he’d be delighted to help you with any homework you have.”
Jason shrugged again and gave a little hum in reply, pushing a lump of potato from one end of his plate to the other and back again. The conversation stalled once again.
Bruce didn’t really know what else to do, so he just blurted out the first thing he could think of. “It’s okay if you don’t like Alfred’s beef casserole.” He said. “We can sneak some ice cream later when he’s not looking.”
Jason blinked at him in surprise, and Bruce’s brain caught up to his mouth to realise exactly what he had just promised his thirteen-year-old. Ice cream for dinner was not a healthy alternative to Alfred’s home cooked food. A+ parenting Bruce, he thought sarcastically to himself, good job.
“No! It’s great!” Jason said hurriedly. He leaned forward to shovel a huge mouthful of casserole into his mouth, like he was trying to prove some sort of point. “It really is good! What’s not to like?”
Bruce let his mouth turn down in a slight frown. Jason’s babbling reassurance seemed to be more for his benefit than Bruce’s. What was Jason trying to convince himself of? Did he not like casserole and was too afraid to say it? Bruce could have sworn that Alfred had cooked this same dish before and Jason had inhaled it like everything else, so that can’t be it…
“Jason.” It was time for the direct approach. He’d tried subtle and it hadn’t worked. “What’s going on?”
Jason let his fork drop the short distance to his plate with a soft clink! and sat back in his chair. His shoulders seemed even more slumped now and his eyes were downcast, avoiding Bruce’s gaze.
“Alfie’s food is amazing.” Jason said quietly. There was a stubborn note in his voice, almost aggressive, as if Bruce had suddenly implied that Alfred’s cooking was terrible and Jason needed to defend it. “I’ve never… back before… the food wasn’t… we didn’t have…” He didn’t seem to know what to say, voice trailing off with indecision. “It’s much better here.” He said finally, looking up to finally meet Bruce’s eyes. “The stuff that we could afford before… it was all cheap crap. And Mom was never well enough to cook anything complicated, you know…?”
“I understand.” Sometimes Bruce thought he didn’t though, not really. Of all the things that he had experienced, of all the things he’d done and seen in his life so far, he had never been in Jason’s situation. Quality food had been such an uncertainty for Jason for so long. He had never had the luxury of choice or personal preference. Bruce, even in the most brutal situations that he had found himself in while travelling the world, had never once feared death by starvation. He had always known that he could go home to Alfred and his fully stocked kitchen at a moment’s notice.
“Alfred’s cooking is the best.” Jason stressed the last word, something of a pained look on his face. “Which is why I don’t know why I even feel like this.”
“Feel like what?” Bruce pushed his own plate a little to the side so that he could focus on Jason. Something told him that this conversation might turn out to be important in some small way or other.
Jason let out a snort. “Like I miss that junk I used to eat.” He said. “The gross cheese slices, the discount ramen noodles, the off-brand cereal… all of that stuff.” Jason’s face was set in a frustrated frown.
It was a kind of homesickness, Bruce realised all at once. He cursed himself for not even considering the idea that Jason might struggle with something like this. Dick had been terribly homesick for the circus for months after coming to live with Bruce. Jason didn’t seem to miss his old home at all, and it wasn’t at all surprising; he’d been living on the streets after all. Even before that Jason had lived in crumbling apartment buildings and state housing. His childhood homes had been cold, damp and dirty, and Jason was very vocal about being happy he never had to spend a night in a place like that again. Neither Bruce nor Alfred had really considered the fact that not everything from that time in Jason’s life was a bad memory. There were things that he had enjoyed from that time, even if they were rare occurrences. It was not surprising at all that Jason might miss the flavours of his childhood, food being such an important part of his life for so long.
Bruce couldn’t help but wonder what other things that Jason might miss. It surely couldn’t just be food. It looked like Bruce had some serious work to do to make things up to Jason. He really dropped the ball on this one.
There was only one thing to do. Bruce quickly wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed his chair back. He stood up and gestured a hand at Jason. “Come on.” He said, smiling. “Let’s go.”
Half an hour later Bruce was standing in the middle of a supermarket feeling like a fish out of water. It wasn’t the store that Alfred frequented, but a more modestly priced one closer to the side of town that Jason used to live it. Bruce could feel the stares of the other shoppers around them, but Jason’s wide-eyed joy as he looked over the shelves of food before them made any discomfit worth it.
“I’ve been here before.” Jason said with quiet delight. “Mom took me here once, to get ‘fancy’ food for Thanksgiving.”
So… it was still a bit more upscale than Jason was used to, Bruce surmised. However, it was probably still the kind of place that stocked the food items that Jason had been craving, and there was the added bonus of it being unlikely that they would be mugged in the parking lot for their purchases, which is probably what would have happened if Bruce had decided to take them shopping in the middle of Jason’s old stomping grounds.
“Get whatever you want.” Bruce told Jason seriously. “I’ll help you hide it all from Alfred.”
A huge grin split Jason’s face, and that was the moment that Bruce knew that he had made the right decision to come here. It sometimes took a little bit of extra effort to figure out Jason’s feelings and motivations, but it was all worth it in the end to see that look on the boy’s face.
“Come on!” Jason tugged at his sleeve. “I’ll let you push the shopping cart!”
Bruce just laughed and let himself be dragged forward. He looked forward to trying the things that Jason loved so much.
He only hoped that Alfred didn’t catch them at it anytime soon.