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“Jason, I know this is your first gala,” Bruce’s voice was low in Jason’s ear as he bent to talk to him in something just above a whisper, “But you can’t cling to me all night. Try to mingle.” Jason nodded but didn’t leave Bruce’s side as the older man returned to his conversation with a woman who’s purple dress matched her purple lipstick, her purple jeweled earrings, and her purple four-inch velvety heels. Jason hardly noticed when her attention turned to him, all bright eyes and fake smiles. He shoved her away with a scowl when she tried to pinch his cheeks. Bruce apologized for him, he’s not great with manners he’d said, he’s still a street rat was what Jason had heard.
When the woman turned and left, distaste sour on her pursed lips, Bruce let out a resigned sigh. He easily caught Dick’s attention with the simple weight of a stare. Across the room, the younger man’s jovial smile rotted into a glower. He trudged across the marbled floor, weaving between groups of people chatting, until he landed at Bruce’s side.
“Dick, would you watch your brother for a while?” Bruce asked gently.
Dick let out a dramatic sigh, “I didn’t even want to come here and now you want me to babysit?” He spat, “You’re a big boy, Jason, you can handle yourself, can’t you?” Jason bristled at the condescending tone.
“Please?” Bruce asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m getting looks.”
“Aw boo-hoo.” Dick crossed his arms over his chest, “You’re getting looks .”
Bruce sighed again and pulled his wallet out of his pocket, beginning to flick out a few bills. Dick interrupted him with a scoff, pushing his hand away.
“It’s fine, I’ll be fine by myself.” Jason stuttered. Just please don’t fight any more .
Dick shot him a glare before finally dropping a hand on his shoulder, “C’mon, little wing.” He grumbled.
They hardly made it a few feet from where Bruce stood before a woman in a long emerald dress sidled up to them, “Ah, if it isn’t Brucie’s boys!” She sang.
Dick plastered on a smile that said he was nowhere near entering a screaming match with Bruce, “Mrs. Beckett!” He greeted, “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m great, thank you, Richard.” She answered with a grin, which showed shining white teeth beneath her glossy lips. “And you?”
“Peachy.” Dick said, somehow without making it sound sarcastic, “And Dick is fine.”
Mrs. Beckett let out a polite giggle and Jason tried not to grimace, “Well then, you can call me Eleanor.” Jason didn’t miss the way her eyes raked over Dick’s suit after she said it. There was no way Dick didn’t see it, he was too observant, too perceptive not to, but he didn’t react.
“Have you met my new little brother?” He asked instead, reaching over to ruffle Jason’s hair, who ducked away.
“I haven’t!” Mrs. Beckett said with another grin. She placed her hands on her knees and bent to Jason’s height, “You must be Jason.”
Jason forced a smile and tried to think of how Dick spoke and his easy, charming posture, “Hi- Hello.” He held out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, aren’t you just adorable .” She gushed, shaking his outstretched hand, “I’m Mrs. Beckett, a business associate of your father’s.”
Jason bit back a snide comment about how she was Mrs. Beckett to him and Eleanor to Dick and opted instead for a nod.
Mrs. Beckett returned to her conversation with Dick as though Jason hadn’t been there, not-so-subtly wiping her hand on her dress.
Ten minutes later, the next man was almost a carbon copy of Mrs. Beckett, if you traded her dark green dress for a pale blue suit. The sickly smile, the way his eyes caught the back of Dick’s pants, how tightly he squeezed Jason’s shoulders and the way he smoothed the arms of his jacket.
After that, people flocked around them, desperate to meet Bruce Wayne’s newest fixer-upper. They squeezed Jason’s cheeks, ruffled his hair, and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. The more people that joined the group surrounding them, the smaller the gaps between bodies became, the harder it became to slip away. Jason felt himself tensing, trying to ignore the closing feeling of expensive tuxedos and gowns that became a wall around him. Dick was still there . He assured himself, and he let his charming smile slip away for anyone who left their hands on Jason for a fraction of a second too long.
“Jay,” Dick said after a while, “Why don’t you grab us a couple of waters, yeah?”
Jason nodded, eager for an opportunity to extract himself from the growing group of men and women. He pushed himself between two men who were engaged in small talk about the weather with Dick and made his way to one of the snack tables at the edge of the room, picking up two glasses of water, so full that some of it sloshed onto his hand when he began to walk back toward Dick.
But Dick wasn’t there anymore. The crowd hadn’t yet dispersed, but Dick was decidedly not there anymore. Jason frowned, an angry swirl of betrayal and fear coating the insides of his guts. He set the glasses back down on the table, ignoring the way they splashed onto the cuffs of his shirt when they more or less slammed down on the lacy white table cloth.
When Jason scanned the room, he found Dick’s wide smile behind a head of cropped, fiery orange hair. He’d managed to drag Wally there, who was much better company than Jason. It was fine. Dick was right, Jason was a big boy, he could handle these people. People who owned more money than anything Jason had ever touched was worth. People who gave him fake smiles and left their hands on him for too long. And a few people, just a few, that Jason was sure he recognized .
It made his gut sink, finding people who’d funded his survival through the winters on the streets- and not simply out of the goodness of their hearts. They had nice penthouses, and paid him enough to ensure he wouldn’t be telling the press anything. Sometimes he could sneak cans of food from their pantries while they were in the bathroom. None of that ever made it any better, and Jason only found himself hoping they wouldn’t recognize him with clean hair and a tailored suit. Along with skirting the edges of the room to avoid any of their spare glances.
“You must be Jason.” Jason almost jumped out of his skin at the sensation of a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man said as Jason turned to face him.
The voice was more familiar than the face. He began to back away, searching frantically for Bruce or Dick or anyone who might catch the insinuations of the look this man was giving him. He straightened, something in the back of his mind reminding him not to show his fear- that would only make it worse.
“Hello,” He said, making every effort to keep his voice steady.
“I’m Mr. Anders.” The man introduced himself, holding out a thin, long-fingered hand for Jason to shake.
Jason swallowed the nausea that was crawling up his throat and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He managed, pulling his hand away before Anders had let him go.
“I’ve got to say, you look familiar, Jason.” Anders’ smile had Jason backing away another few steps, stretched across his cheeks and staring down at Jason like he was a triple tier chocolate cake.
“You- You must be thinking of someone else.” Jason tried, fighting the urge to bow his head, a stutter slipping past his lips.
“I don’t think I am.” Anders said. When Jason tried to back away further, his back hit a wall. “Baby boy.” Anders said it under his breath, but Jason didn’t miss it. Jason couldn’t miss it.
He pressed down the strained breaths rising in his throat and tried to slow the jack-rabbit pumping of his heart. He forced himself through all the scenarios in which he could have this man unconscious on the ground at his feet, which calmed the tense sensation that had him closing his fingers into tight fists.
“Maybe we can catch up in the hallway, it’s a little loud in here, don’t you think?” Anders said, his voice a smooth, suggestive croon.
Jason swallowed, dizziness bending the walls around him. “No.” He answered, forcing a hardened glare, “I think it’s just fine in here, thank you.” Sweep his leg and stomp on his nose. Pull him down and slam his head into your knee. Punch him hard enough in the jaw...
Anders chuckled, “Or maybe we could fill in Mr. Wayne on how you and I met?”
Jason’s blood went cold. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“That’s right baby boy, but save it for when we’re in private.” Anders taunted, voice barely above a whisper as he closed in on Jason in the corner, towering over him. Jason shut his mouth quickly, his teeth clicking together as he did so. His head spun, temples aching, he thought he might throw up on the floor, which Alfred had only just cleaned for the gala.
“No, I’m not going with you.” Jason stuttered, searching for a way out. The space around him only seemed to close in tighter.
Anders huffed out a short laugh, “Alright. We’ll see about that.” He stepped away, but the trapped sensation that had thick bars tightening around Jason’s lungs didn’t go away. Anders started toward Bruce, who’s charming smile had three different women latched to his side. Jason imagined the disgusted look that would cross his face when Anders sidled over and whispered in his ear. The way he would march over to Jason, the women forgotten, and force him to leave the party and start packing. More likely, he wouldn’t give Jason a chance to pack, he’d grip his arm hard and drag him out of the ballroom, and say in that terrifying, sharp, and low Batman growl: Out. Now.
It was the dead of winter. Jason couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t .
Anders didn’t turn his head or glance back when Jason began to follow, only changed direction toward one of the doors that led to the hallway. He held it open for Jason and settled a hand between his shoulder blades.
“Behave for me.” Anders whispered as the doors swung shut behind them, a warning in his voice. “I know that you think things are different for you now, but you’ll show me the respect I know you can give me.”
Jason nodded. He could already feel himself stepping away from his body, watching from a few feet away as Anders led him to the looming bathroom door. He didn’t want to do this again. He couldn’t do this again. But if he let Anders tell Bruce, he’d be doing it for the rest of his life. So when Anders wrapped up the back of his jacket in his fingers and gripped it tightly, Jason forced out a steady “Yes, sir.”
Another voice, from behind them, forced Jason back into his body, “Excuse me.” It said. Anders pressed forward, another silent signal, and Jason’s hand fell on the crystal door knob. “Excuse me!” The voice repeated, louder and harsher this time.
“We’re just going to wash up.” Anders said sweetly above him.
“Let go of him.” When Anders turned him around, Jason’s eyes found Dick, his face full of fury as he stared them down. Anders did as he said, releasing Jason’s jacket and smoothing the fabric.
He laughed, as though Dick had said something funny, as though this were any other friendly conversation within the walls of the ballroom, “I understand your concern, Richard, but Jason and I go way back.” He tapped Jason’s shoulder, another signal.
Jason hated how easily he fell back into this. Disgusting , the back of his mind hissed, dirty slut . “We’re fine, Dick.” An easy smile fell on his lips.
Dick stepped closer, “Get away from him.” He snarled, no trace of a usual smile on his face.
Anders tapped Jason again, “Seriously, everything’s okay, Dick. Go back to the party.” Jason tried. Pity and disgust would look awful on Dick’s face, and whatever Anders told him about Jason, he’d tell Bruce. He’d argue harder that Jason didn’t deserve Robin, that a dirty whore and street rat could never live up to his legacy. This time, Bruce would agree with him. “Please.” Jason’s voice finally cracked as he said it.
Dick was at his side before Jason saw him walking, clamping a hand on Jason’s shoulder and shoving him back so hard that he stumbled. Dick pinned Anders to the bathroom door, which was still shut. “I don’t want to see you look at him again.” He growled, grasping two of Anders’ fingers tightly in his hand, “And you will never, ever, touch him, or anyone else again.” Dick twisted Anders fingers hard, in all the wrong ways, clamping a hand over his mouth to capture the scream that ripped from his throat. “Understood?”
Anders nodded frantically. Dick held him to the door by the hand held over his mouth for another several seconds, staring hard into his eyes. “Leave.” Dick said finally, releasing him with a look that promised that wouldn’t be the last they saw of each other.
Anders scurried down the hallway and out of sight, gripping his injured hand tightly to his chest. Dick stayed perfectly still for a moment, eyes focused hard on the ground in a furious glare. Focused and still; two things Dick had never been able to achieve as long as Jason knew him.
Dick let out a slow, careful breath, and finally looked up at Jason, the anger in his face morphed quickly into concern. “Jason-” He started.
“It’s fine.” Jason interrupted. Folding his arms across his stomach, refusing to meet Dick’s eyes.
“It’s not fine!” Dick said, the anger returning to his voice, “What the hell, Jason? That is not fine .”
“It’s. Fine.” Jason repeated, forcing his voice louder, harsher.
Dick stepped closer, reaching out for him, but Jason swatted his hand away, “Don’t fucking touch me.” He snapped before he could stop himself. He shut his eyes for a moment, breathing through a sigh, “Sorry.” He said softly. “I have to pee.” He added, before Dick could say anything else, and slipped through the door of the bathroom.
As soon as the door was locked behind him, Jason fell to his knees, shaking. He couldn’t make it to the toilet before his stomach was emptying itself onto the tiles. He threw up three times until there was nothing left, and retched for minutes after. He wasn’t sure when he started crying but tears were streaming over his cheeks and sobs were tugging at the back of his throat, begging to be let out. He pressed his mouth into the crook of his elbow and cried out, before realizing he was ruining the jacket with the vomit on his lips and chin. It only made him shudder and cry harder, the effort of keeping himself quiet becoming more insurmountable by the second.
“Jason?” A knock echoed through the room and Jason scurried as far away from the door as he could, “Please let me in,” Dick called softly through the door, “Let me help you.”
Jason tried to slow his breaths, “I’m fine.” He said, voice wobbling. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.” Dick replied hesitantly, “Just… I’ll be out here. If you need anything.”
Jason didn’t have the energy to insist that he was fine again, or to tell Dick to return to the party. He didn’t think Dick would listen anyways, so he opted for silence instead. He waited a few moments, for the energy to return to his limbs, and for the shuddering to subside- even just a little. Jason didn’t stop crying as he shuffled his way to the cabinet under the sink. Pulling out cleaning supplies, he scrubbed at the tiles until there was no trace of his vomit. He was no stranger to cleaning up puke, though it was usually his mother’s. Jason’s tears quickened with the thought of her. No. He thought to himself. He was fine . He’d grieved her, and now he was fine . But he couldn’t shake the desire for her arms around him, pulling him into her chest and stroking his hair, letting him bury his face in the crook of her neck.
Jason tossed soiled paper towels into the trash can by the toilet and searched the cabinet for something to clean his jacket sleeve with. Unfortunately, there was nothing for fabric, especially for fabric this expensive , so Jason scrubbed it down with water. He did, however, find that Alfred had stocked the cabinet with fresh toothbrushes and an unopened tube of toothpaste.
Jason started the shower, turning the faucet as hot as it would go, and brushed his teeth while he waited for the water to begin to steam. He was rinsing his mouth out for the fifth time before he realized the mirror was covered in fog and the air was thick with steam. He stripped and stepped into the shower. Jason scrubbed himself clean, then did it again, and again, and again, and again . Then, he sank to the floor and curled up, letting water run over him until it turned cool and his fingers and toes were waterlogged. He thought he might’ve heard someone knock, that maybe Dick’s voice reached him again in a muffled form of itself. More voices followed, and louder ones, he thought, but couldn’t force himself to do anything but wrap his arms around his knees and stare at the shower curtain.
When the shower curtain was pulled back, and light from the fluorescent bulb over the mirror spilled onto Jason, he only hid his head in his knees. He was back. And he was going to pull Jason out of the shower, he was going to say something about how Jason cleaned up well, how Jason had cleaned up for him . He was going to pry Jason apart and get what he’d paid for, he was going to hurt him and he was going to-
“Jaylad.” The water wasn’t falling on Jason anymore. “Jason. It’s me. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare look up or open his eyes. Some of them liked it when they got to pry him apart. Some of them didn’t like to see his face, didn’t like to see the baby fat that still sat on his cheeks, or the gaps in the back of his mouth that showed not all of his molars had come in yet.
Something soft and warm fell around his body and someone wrapped it tightly around him. The hands that had placed the towel around his shoulders landed on him and began pulling, tugging, touching .
Jason's eyes flew open. He lifted his head and fought . He wouldn't let them touch him. He'd escaped this, this was behind him. He wouldn't let them touch him . Someone cursed and Jason tasted blood in his mouth.
"Little wing, you've gotta calm down. It's just us. We're not gonna hurt you. It's okay. We just want to get you to bed." A voice, different from the first that had called his name rang against the tiles.
Jason only fought harder at those words. Fought until the weight of fingers and palms and hands and arms was gone completely.
"Can I try?" The second voice asked softly. There was a pause, then a shuffle of footsteps. Jason had buried his head in his knees once again.
"Hey, little wing." The voice said, much closer now. "I- I'm really sorry." It stuttered, "I never should've ditched you like that and-" The voice broke, "I feel so guilty. But let me make it up to you. Please, Jay. We just need you to come back to us, okay? We can get you into some warm pajamas and-and have some hot cocoa-"
"And cookies." A third voice interrupted.
"And cookies." The second agreed, "And we can read whatever you want. You're okay. You're gonna be fine .” It sounded almost as though the voice were trying to assure himself of that, “You’re safe. We’ve got you."
This was Dick's voice, Jason realized absently. And Bruce and Alfred were there too, and they meant safety, they meant a warm bed big enough for Jason to fit in five times over. He looked up and found Dick hovering over him, crouched in front of him with his hands clamped anxiously on the edge of the tub.
"Hey." Dick said gently. Red lined his eyes, but his gaze didn't waver from Jason. "You with us?"
Jason managed a nod.
An unsteady, wet sort of smile crossed Dick’s face, "Let's get you dried off and dressed, yeah?"
He nodded again and stood. Jason wrapped the towel tightly around himself as he climbed out of the tub and began walking on shaking legs toward his bedroom. He knew that his hair left a trail of water droplets while he walked, and that all three of them were trailing behind him, but he didn't bother to do anything about either of those things. He only made his way through several hallways until he arrived at his room, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.
Murmured voices started up outside the door, but Jason couldn't make out what they were saying. He finished drying himself off and put on a t-shirt and jeans. It was snowing out, so he pulled a sweater over his head and dragged his mother's ratty red sweatshirt from his closet and put it on top of the sweater. They hadn't asked him to leave yet, so that must’ve meant they were giving him a chance to pack. Jason pulled his rucksack from underneath his bed and began to stuff in changes of clothes, a bottle of lotion at his bedside, a pack of cigarettes hidden under the mattress, books- he could only take a few, they would weigh him down, he had to choose carefully-
"Jason?" Bruce's voice reached him through the door. He froze. "Are you alright?"
What else did he need? He wondered frantically, scanning the room.
"Can we come in?" Bruce asked after a moment.
Jason shut his eyes, swallowed, and walked to the door, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He turned the knob and pulled. Bruce and Dick stood in the hallway. Alfred was gone and Bruce had a fresh bandage wrapped around his thumb.
Dick still spoke in his gentle, soft, voice, one that said he was handling something fragile, something young and vulnerable, "Hey-" He greeted, then paused, frowning, "Why aren't you in your pajamas? What are you doing?" He eyed the rucksack. Jason only stared at him for a moment, then looked to Bruce, who looked equally confused.
"You mean-" Jason started, voice hoarse and small, "I can stay the night?"
They both stared at him, silent, the confusion in their features only intensified. Shit . Jason thought. He shouldn't have assumed. Of course he couldn't stay the night- not after they found out what he'd done. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to keep tears from slipping through as they filled up behind his eyelids, "I'm sorry-" He started.
"Of course you can stay the night." Bruce interrupted, "This is your home, Jason."
Another moment of silence passed as Jason let his eyes fall open. "C'mon, little wing," Dick stepped into Jason's room, his hand hovering at Jason's shoulder before he decided against touching him and let it drop to his side. Anxiety and uncertainty seemed to roll off of Dick in waves as he moved through the room. He dug through the closet for a moment before retrieving a pair of flannel pajama pants and holding them up, "How about these? Are these okay?" He handed them to Jason, "We'll leave while you change."
Dick left the room hastily, pushing Bruce gently out of the way of the door and shutting it behind himself. Jason stared at the wall for a moment, blinking, the pajama pants piled up in his hands and waiting. They were going to let him stay? Not just for the night but for the foreseeable future? Jason couldn't help but smile as he stripped his jeans and pulled on the pants.
His grin fell. Anders hadn't told them. They didn't know, that's why they were letting him stay. It was only a matter of time before he, or any other others Jason had recognized, told them about him. Or maybe Jason would just have to keep offering himself up just to keep them quiet.
He felt nauseous again. His breath was speeding up, fast against his rib cage. That working girl Jason had met on his first night standing out on the corner in too-tight clothes has been right, ' there's no way out of this life, kid. Once you're in, there's no way out .' Tears swam in his eyes. He didn't want to do it again. He couldn't do it again. He could still feel their hands on him.
A choked sob escaped him. "Little wing?" Dick called, his voice still so full of worry as he knocked. Bruce said something softly that Jason couldn't make out and Dick snapped back at him just as quietly.
Jason pulled open the door once again, "Guys. Don't fight." His voice wasn't as strong as he would've liked it to be, "Please."
Dick winced, "Sorry." He whispered.
"And don't treat me like I'm made of glass." He added, turning away, "Please."
He pulled Mansfield Park from the rucksack and set the rest of it carefully on the ground next to his bed, unsure how soon he'd need it. Jason crawled into his bed, pulled the covers up to his waist, and opened the book.
"Alfred's making cocoa and cookies." Dick said, taking a hesitant step into Jason's room. Jason shut his book and sent him a glare. Dick only shrugged, "Glass people don't eat cookies or drink hot chocolate."
Bruce stepped inside with a sigh and pulled the chair from Jason's desk to his bedside, sitting down in it, "Why did you think I would want you to leave, Jason?" He asked.
"I-" Jason wasn't sure how to answer. "He didn't tell you?" He asked, almost hoping that he had, hoping that Bruce knew, that Bruce knew everything but didn’t let it change anything, that he would let Jason stay and that it didn’t matter because it was in the past. Jason wasn’t that naive.
"Who didn't tell me what?" Bruce asked slowly, deliberately.
Jason looked down at his comforter, picking at a loose thread on one of the seams, "No one. Nothing."
"That man who attacked you?" Dick cut in.
Jason scoffed, "No one attacked me."
"Who was he? Did you know him? Why did you say that you did?" Dick’s eyes were wide as he babbled on.
Jason looked up, brow twitching with frustration. "Jesus, Dickwad. One question at a time." He snapped, "Or better yet, no questions."
Dick shut his mouth. Maybe he would've argued, or teased and insulted Jason, if it were any other night. But he stayed quiet.
" I'm going to ask some questions." Bruce said, pulling Jason's attention back to him, "One at a time." He assured.
Jason swallowed, then nodded. He balled his hands into fists, focusing on the sensation of his fingernails digging into his palms.
"Do you know that man's name?" Bruce asked.
"Anders." Jason said. He thought for a moment. "Colin, maybe? Colin Anders? I'm not sure about his first name."
"Okay." Bruce nodded, his eyes flashed with anger- even hatred- before flitting back to emotionless and inquisitive. "Did you know him before tonight?"
"Yes." Jason answered. He wasn't going to lie to Bruce. He could never lie to him, but he could avoid the truth.
"How?" Bruce asked.
Jason was silent. Bruce waited. Minutes passed and Jason could tell Dick was fidgeting at the side of the room, trying not to say anything.
"We'll come back to that." Bruce said finally. "Are you willing to tell me what happened?"
"Didn't Dick tell you?" Jason asked softly.
Bruce nodded, then said "I want to hear your side. If you'll tell me."
Jason paused for a moment, breathing out a sigh. He could do this. This was just detective work. This was training so he could someday be Robin. "He came up to me while I was alone. Said hi, started talking." Jason explained, eyes returning to his comforter, "He said it was too loud in there, and that he wanted to go out in the hallway. I said no-... At first..." Jason picked at the string again. He sighed, "Well, I went with him, but Dick found us before anything could get bad."
"Why did you go with him?" Dick asked. "Why did you want me to leave it alone?"
Jason didn’t look at the older boy, and didn’t open his mouth to answer.
"Did he have a weapon?" Bruce asked.
Jason shook his head.
"Did he threaten you?"
Jason stayed silent for another few moments, unsure how to answer, "Kind of." He said finally.
"Kind of?" Bruce prompted.
Jason pulled his knees to his chest, wanting nothing more than to open up his book again and ignore Bruce and Dick. "He said-..." Jason paused, then looked to Bruce, "He said he'd tell you… something about my past if I didn't go with him."
Another pause filled the room with silence until Alfred stepped through the open door, carrying a tray with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and four mugs of hot chocolate, each one piled up with whipped cream. He gave a mug to each of them before handing the plate of cookies to Jason, who set them on his bedside table.
"Would you mind if I stayed, Master Jason?" Alfred asked.
"Please." Jason nodded, sighing wearily.
Alfred sat down in the arm chair at the corner of the room, beginning to sip at his own cup of hot chocolate. Jason hadn't even thought Alfred liked hot chocolate.
"Jason." Bruce said finally, "I know that when you were living on the streets, you did what you needed to survive. And I'm upset that you went through so much, but I'm not upset with you for doing any of it. Nothing about your past could make me love you any less." He finished earnestly. Jason almost wanted to congratulate him for saying something so compassionate, so emotional, but frustration and confusion were already bubbling up in his chest.
"But-" He started, scrubbing at his eyes as tears filled up in them once again, "It's disgusting ."
More silence followed, and Jason almost wished a phone would start ringing, or maybe someone would start yelling at him.
"You are not disgusting, Master Jason." Alfred said finally, "You are the cleanest teenage boy I've ever met. You-"
"That's not what I meant." Jason interrupted, flushing red with anger or fear or embarrassment or a mix of all that and more.
"I know." Alfred said calmly, "But it doesn't change the fact that you are not disgusting, or dirty, or unclean in any way. Like Master Bruce said, you did what you needed to survive, and you are the victim of what happened to you. None of it is your fault."
Jason was crying fully by then, tears once again streaming down his cheeks, "You guys don't understand-"
Bruce reached out for him, but decided against it, "I think we do understand, Jason." He said, his voice more gentle than Jason had thought it could be.
"No." He choked, "I'm not talking about pick-pocketing, or stealing tires, I'm talking about-" He couldn't finish the sentence, cut off by a wailing, broken sob.
Dick knelt at the side of his bed but didn't say anything, didn't try to touch him, just let himself be known, another safe, gentle, presence; but not a stifling one.
"Deep breaths, Jay." Bruce encouraged, modeling slow, calm breaths. "You're alright."
Jason tried to follow his lead, but the shaking, the shuddering sobs were already returning.
Dick reached out slowly, slowly enough that Jason could shoot him a look and he would move away, and placed a hand in Jason's hair. When he didn't flinch away, Dick began stroking his hair gently, softly, his blunt nails tracing patterns on Jason's scalp until the sobs quieted and Jason was breathing, though shakily, once again.
Bruce puffed out an anxious breath, “I’m sorry, Jay.”
Jason frowned, “For what?” He stuttered.
“For what you went through.” Bruce answered, looking down, “For not looking out for you, for not recognizing it sooner, for many things.” He let his hand fall on Jason’s blanket, and Jason took it, squeezing his fingers gently.
He pulled in another shuddering breath, “So- you won’t kick me out?” He glanced from Bruce to Alfred with shimmering eyes, still so unsure, still waiting for one of them to decide he wasn’t worth it, for the gentle hands and the warm blankets to be pulled away and replaced with cruelty and cold.
“No, never.” Bruce said with certainty, lifting the hand that wasn’t occupied by Jason’s to rub the stress from his forehead.
“Definitely not, Master Jason.” Alfred piped up, “I’m sorry we haven’t made it clear enough that the manor is your home for as long as you’d like it to be.”
Finally, he turned to Dick, who’s fingers hadn’t left his hair, twining gently into the strands and smoothing them out of Jason’s forehead. Dick frowned, “We’re family, Jay.” He said, “You and I-...” He paused, “We’re still getting used to each other and Bruce and I aren’t on the best terms right now but-... I don’t want you to ever think that I’m rejecting you, or that I want you gone, okay?”
Jason nodded and swallowed thickly, “Okay.”