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Bruce knew something was wrong with Jason the moment he realized the boy had missed breakfast. Come to think of it, Bruce couldn’t remember seeing him at dinner the night before. Jason had only been living with Bruce for a month, but in that time, he had never skipped a meal. This was concerning as his absence from two meals was highly unusual. Considering how tiny Jason had been when he arrived at the Manor, he couldn’t afford to skip any meals.
He and Alfred with the help of Dr Thompkins had made sure to form a meal plan to slowly reintroduce foods to help reverse the years of malnutrition Jason had faced while being homeless. Changing foods around to accommodate Jason’s new tastes and texture preferences were also made. Jason was also given the option to help Alfred cook; this suggestion by Alfred was met with great success.
Bruce couldn’t think of any other reason that would cause Jason’s absence from mealtimes except for sickness. Years ago, the notion wouldn’t have even crossed his mind, but once Dick came to live at the Manor and he became Bruce’s foster son anything was possible. Dick had always lost his appetite whenever he got sick, so it fit that if Jason were ill, he too would feel too poorly to eat. Perhaps the small cold Jason had when he had moved in a month ago had returned.
He wandered the halls making his way to Jason’s room. Bruce held his hand up to knock but hesitated. Jason was a very private person and made it explicitly clear that under no circumstances was Bruce or Alfred to enter his room. Bruce respected his request and understood Jason’s need for a safe space in his new home after years of hypervigilance living on the streets. He gave Jason his word that he would never burst into Jason’s bedroom without his permission. Jason was still quite skittish about Bruce being in his bedroom, but not scared of being in a room with Bruce.
Bruce looked down at the crack at the bottom of the closed door not seeing any light coming in, which meant Jason was still asleep. Dammit. Bruce’s shoulders sagged. He really wished to not startle the boy awake, but it was 11:00am and Jason had missed dinner the night before and now breakfast.
Bruce took a deep breath, knocked on the door and waited for a response. No answer.
“Jason, are you okay?” Bruce asked through the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He hoped he kept the panic out of his voice. He waited, but there was no response.
Bruce knocked again and more urgently this time. Still no answer.
“Jason, I’m coming in, okay? I just want to see if you’re alright.”
Bruce opened the door slowly. Sunlight was struggling to shine through a gap in the blackout curtains. The bed clothes were mussed and in the center of the bed was a blanketed lump. Bruce could see the lump move and hear a horribly, chesty wet cough.
Oh no.
The coughing jag didn’t stop, instead it got worse as Jason tried to catch his breath.
“Jason, oh kiddo,” Bruce panicked, quickly making his way to the bed. It took everything in him to not reach out and sit the boy up. Instead, Bruce kept himself busy by rushing to the bathroom to get Jason a glass of water. He returned to Jason’s bedside with the water hoping not to startle the boy. “Jason, you need to sit up.”
Jason sat up slowly allowing the blankets to fall beside him. The change in position somewhat helped the coughs to subside. He shivered and rewrapped the blankets around himself.
“That cough doesn’t sound so good,” Bruce observed, his brows furrowed as he handed Jason the glass of water.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason croaked, taking the glass from Bruce and slowly sipping the water. Jason winced as he swallowed. He blinked lazily at Bruce and then his eyes widened.
“I know I said I would never come in here,” Bruce explained, taking the glass from Jason and setting it back down on the nightstand. “But you skipped dinner last night and missed breakfast this morning. I was worried about you, and rightfully so. When did your cold come back and how long have you been coughing?”
“Off and on for a week. The cough only started to sound different this morning,” Jason shrugged, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
“Jason, we talked about this,” Bruce sighed, sitting down on the armchair next to Jason’s bed. “The moment you start to feel bad or if the cold came back again you needed to tell me so we could get it checked out. Dr Thompkins said – ”
“I know,” Jason snapped, leveling Bruce with a look but the effect was broken as he started coughing again. Once the coughing jag was over, he scooted back into his bed covering himself back up with his blankets. “It’s just a cold.”
Bruce could see how much Jason was downplaying how bad he felt. The boy looked miserable and pale except for his cheeks which were slightly flushed. Every time the boy had to swallow he winced leaving his face in a permanent scowl. He kept fidgeting and shivering under his blankets trying to get comfortable. But the worst was whenever he tried to take a deep breath, he braced himself up with his arms. Bruce wondered if maybe they were dealing with something worse than ‘just a cold’, like the flu or pneumonia.
Jason’s signature bravado, the one that made Bruce laugh, introduced a swear jar, and got Bruce used to occasionally being called ‘Old Man’ was gone. Instead, in its place was a grouchy withdrawn boy who snapped at all attempts at having an adult care for him.
It took everything in Bruce to stop himself from tucking Jason into his blankets and sweeping his sweaty curls from his face. Instead, Bruce thought better to occupy himself with looking for a thermometer and medicine. He hoped this was just a cold, but the sound of the deep wet coughs, the loss of appetite, and the shivering Jason was currently doing under the covering of three blankets suggested that he was dealing with something more than ‘just a cold’.
He got up from the chair and headed straight to Jason’s en-suite bathroom. Bruce had learned years ago from the first time Dick got sick that he needed to immediately stock the bathrooms with meds in case of sickness. Jason’s medicine cabinet was stocked with all kinds of children’s meds complete with cold and cough decongestants, Tylenol and Motrin.
“Let’s take your temperature first to determine if you have a fever,” Bruce suggested, holding up the thermometer.
“I told you, I’m fine,” Jason groused, but opened his mouth anyway.
It beeped after only a minute, immediately indicating what Bruce already knew, a fever.
“Okay, you can either take Tylenol or Motrin to bring down the fever,” Bruce explained, holding up both medicine bottles to Jason. “Tylenol will bring it down, but Motrin will help with fever and pain.”
“I don’t need it, thanks,” Jason said flatly, shaking his head.
“Jason, you need to take something to bring down the fever.”
“I don’t need any drugs,” Jason wheezed, which only made him cough more.
Bruce’s shoulders tensed the more Jason coughed and wheezed. It was sounding worse than the average chest cold, not that chest colds were anything to mess with, especially where Jason was concerned. Bruce now strongly suspected Jason could have pneumonia.
“Jaylad, your fever is at 102.7. I need to give you something to bring it down,” Bruce insisted, his tone gentle, but not leaving room for negotiations. However, he knew just by the look of determination on Jason’s face that his words were falling on deaf ears.
Jason continued to shake his head but the resolute expression on his face soon gave way to tears that were now falling down his cheeks. Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise at the tears leaking down Jason’s face. This was new; he was crying. Jason never cried. At least Bruce hadn’t yet seen him cry. He could chalk up the tears to Jason feeling poorly, but something else was bothering the boy.
It was in that moment that Bruce could see that Jason wasn’t being stubborn or difficult, he looked panicked and scared. Jason’s eyes went wide at the mere mention of having to take medicine for his fever. The tears followed once he realized Bruce wasn’t relenting on the medicine. But what was he scared of exactly?
It was then that Bruce had remembered that the file he had obtained on Jason had specified that Catherine Todd, Jason’ s mother, had died of a drug overdose and Jason had been the one that had found her. Bruce was an idiot. He slumped his shoulders as he realized his mistake; he had forgotten an incredibly important detail in his new foster son’s history. Now Jason’s reaction made sense.
“Jason,” Bruce said, breaking the silence and inching closer to Jason’s bed. He sat down on the armchair placing both the Tylenol and the Motrin on the nightstand. “Are you afraid of taking medicine for your fever?”
“I’m n-not af-fraid of anything. I just don’t want meds. I don’t want them to make me s-sleepy. I don’t like that f-feeling,” Jason muttered, roughly scrubbing his tears with the back of his hand.
The boy needed information and lucky for him, Bruce was excellent at providing it, if a bit over enthusiastic at times.
“Tylenol won’t make you sleepy, kiddo; not like Benadryl,” Bruce explained, pointing at the bottle of Tylenol. He didn’t miss when Jason looked up when he said ‘Benadryl’. Somehow that made Bruce wonder if Jason had been given the allergy medication to make him sleep. “It’s not a controlled substance either. It’s in a classification called analgesics which is a pain reliever and antipyretics which means fever reducer.”
Bruce brought the medicine packaging over to Jason and went over the ingredients with him. Explaining what they did and their purpose. The tactic worked, after all knowledge is power and Jason liked learning new things, so he took the Tylenol.
“You can go, Bruce. You don’t have to stay here with me,” Jason said, leaning back against his pillows, his eyes drooping.
“I know I don’t have to stay, but do you want me to stay?” Bruce asked, snapping the cap back onto the Tylenol bottle.
“No,” Jason answered, blinking heavily, and sinking further into his blankets.
“Okay,” Bruce smiled, lightly patting Jason’s foot. “I’m going to send Alfred up with some toast and I’ll come back in an hour for a temperature check just to make sure the Tylenol is working,” Bruce said, before closing the door.
Bruce returned to Jason’s room an hour later hoping the Tylenol worked in bringing down Jason’s fever. If his fever didn’t go down, they would have to call Leslie and he knew Jason would not like that turn of events. Jason hated doctors even if the doctor was a Leslie Thompkins. Bruce took a deep breath and lightly knocked on Jason’s door. When all he got in return was a groan, Bruce took that as his cue to enter the room.
Bruce didn’t even have to ask Jason how he was doing. One look at Jason and it was clear he wasn’t doing any better. He didn’t even move from his prone position on the bed. As Bruce got closer to him, he could see the flush in Jason’s cheeks was more prominent, and his eyes were out of focus blinking slowly as he tried to wake up. Once Jason was able to focus on Bruce and the slow blinks stopped, Bruce took Jason’s temperature. His shoulders sagged as the number on the thermometer had gone up, and not down.
“Kiddo, I need to call a doctor. Your temp is now at 103.”
“But I don’t want to go to the doctors,” Jason whined, pulling the blankets over his head.
“You don’t have a choice, Jay,” Bruce answered, pulling the blankets down and placing the thermometer on the nightstand. “Your fever is too high and is not going down with Tylenol. You may need antibiotics. Don’t worry, I’m sure Dr Thompkins will come here.”
“Whatever,” Jason groaned, pulling the blankets back over his head. “It’s just a cold.”
Bruce called Leslie with the hope that she would come to the Manor so he wouldn’t have to bundle Jason up for a car ride. Bruce listed Jason’s symptoms to her over the phone and told her that he thought Jason might have pneumonia. Leslie considered it too, but without a listen to his lungs she was reluctant to diagnose over the phone.
Once Leslie came to the Manor and examined Jason, Bruce was relieved to know that he had been right about Jason’s condition – it was pneumonia, but he also felt horrible that it was pneumonia. Leslie prescribed antibiotics and Tylenol to bring down the fever. Bruce asked about a breathing treatment, but Leslie assured him that Jason didn’t need it as his symptoms were mild despite the harshness of his cough.
Bruce quickly learned that unlike Dick, Jason did not wish to be coddled while he was sick. He was already averse to being touched, but when Jason was sick or in pain the aversion was tenfold. Jason just wanted to be alone and left in peace and quiet to recover and Bruce respected his need for space. This didn’t stop Bruce from constantly checking in on him nearly every hour for the next three days.
Bruce found any and every excuse to go to Jason’s room to check in on him. Alfred was quite put out at having his job taken over by Bruce when the latter insisted on bringing all of Jason’s meals himself; as well as bringing the boy his medicine. Jason, more than once, told Bruce that he could be trusted to get his own medicine; but Bruce reminded Jason that he didn’t need to do everything on his own; that it was okay to let others care for him. Bruce knew this line of thinking would take time for Jason to get used to.
After the first three days had passed, and Jason’s temperature was back to normal, Bruce thought Jason might be growing tired of the solitude.
“Would you like to watch a movie today?” Bruce offered, leaning against the door jamb of Jason’s open bedroom door. “Any movie you want. You’ve been holed up here for three days.”
“Can – can we watch Princess Bride?” Jason asked, fidgeting with the hem of his blanket.
“Absolutely, kiddo,” Bruce smiled, hoping his enthusiasm didn’t scare Jason off.
They made it to the media room, Jason walking beside Bruce wrapping his blanket around himself like a cape. Bruce turned on the tv and put the movie into the Blu-ray player while Jason made himself comfortable in the center cushion on the couch.
“I haven’t seen this movie in years,” Bruce said, sitting down on the recliner chair next to the couch. He aimed the remote at the tv to start the movie. “I always liked the swordfights.”
“It- it was my mom’s favorite movie. She would play it for me whenever I got sick.”
Bruce paused and straightened in his seat at hearing Jason mention his mom. He turned his head quickly from the tv and faced Jason as he wanted to give the boy his full attention. It wasn’t every day that Jason opened up like this to Bruce. Jason never talked about himself, or his parents. Heck, Bruce was still unsure about the full details of Jason’s history. His file with Child Services was quite thin only showing past foster placements and notes from case workers of his history of running away. There were also police records of shoplifting. He wanted Jason to open up to him, but Bruce knew that would take time. The boy had trust issues with the many adults in his life that had disappointed him.
“Well, she had great taste in movies,” Bruce stated, tilting his head hoping Jason would continue.
“Yeah, she sure did,” Jason smiled, pulling his knees up on the sofa and wrapping his blanket around himself until only his head was showing. He rested his head on his blanketed knees and faced Bruce. “She used to say all the lines. It used to annoy the hell out of me, but now – now I miss it,” Jason cleared his throat. “I miss her.”
Jason sniffed and turned his focus away from Bruce and back toward the TV.
“When we no longer had a tv or a DVD player, she’d read the book to me. She’d –,“ Jason paused and swallowed. He turned back to Bruce giving him a watery smile. “She’d do voices for all the characters. I miss – I miss the sound of her voice,” Jason confessed, hugging his knees tighter to him. His smile faded as he lost his fight to hold back his tears. “I can’t -I can’t remember what she sounded like.”
Bruce’s heart dropped seeing Jason so honest and vulnerable sitting by himself on the huge couch trying to rein in the sobs. There was an internal struggle Bruce was fighting within himself. The father in him wanted to scoop Jason up in his lap and hold him until the boy finished crying. However, he knew the gesture was unwise and would not be well received. He still wanted to be closer to him.
“Jason, may I sit next to you on the couch?”
Jason nodded, so Bruce moved over and sat next to him. Bruce moved his arm to put around the boy, but quickly caught himself, so instead he rested it on the back of the couch. Bruce wasn’t sure his presence next to Jason was helping at all as the young teen just seemed to close in on himself. Literally using the blanket as a shield to cocoon himself away from the world.
Bruce wasn’t quite sure how to comfort a boy who preferred not to be touched. He hoped just his presence alone was helping Jason as he didn’t want to overstep and lose the growing trust he had gained from the boy in only a month.
Just when Bruce was beginning to think that moving to the couch was a bad idea, the blanketed weight of the boy Bruce loved with all his heart leaned into his side seeking comfort. Bruce’s shoulders slowly sagged in relief as all the tension he had been holding gradually dissipated. Bruce moved his arm down gently embracing Jason in a side hug.
They sat in companionable silence until Jason’s sobs turned into hiccups. Once Jason calmed down, he didn’t move from Bruce’s side.
“Thank you for sharing that with me, Jason. I know that was a very hard thing to do.”
Jason nodded, still hiding under his blanket.
“I’m always here to listen whenever you want to talk about your mom,” Bruce offered, giving Jason one more squeeze. “Or anything else that may be bothering you. Don’t hesitate, okay?”
“Okay,” Jason answered slowly uncovering himself from his blanket fortress and straightening out of Bruce’s embrace. “Can we watch the movie now?”
“Of course,” Bruce complied, getting up from the couch to grab the remote that he left on the recliner chair.
“You – you can still sit next to me. If you want to,” Jason stammered, his fingers fiddling with a loose thread on his blanket.
“Are you sure, kiddo?” Bruce asked, tilting his head in concern. He didn’t want to make Jason feel like he was obligated to invite Bruce into his space. “I don’t mind sitting on the recliner.”
“I’m sure,” Jason smiled, rewrapping himself with his blanket.
“As you wish,” Bruce answered, sitting down on the couch next to Jason. He pointed the remote toward the tv to start the movie.
“Just start the movie, Old Man,” Jason snorted.
This was how Bruce and Jason bonded, once a week in the media room rewatching old movies that had once been Catherine Todd’s favorites and were now Jason’s favorites. Sometimes Bruce would put on his favorites to share with Jason. Every now and then during the movie Jason would reveal a detail about himself to Bruce and they would chat about it until Jason was done.