Chapter Text
For one dark moment, Jason thought he really was dead, and all of this was just the dreams of a dying man. There was no conceivable way Batman would ever break his singular rule to save a Robin. And absolutely no way Bruce would break his rule just to check on the Replacement.
But it still felt real, Jason’s side hurt from where Ra’s assassins had scored a scratch along his flank and B’s mask was chipped where Jason had slammed it against the wall. Jason didn’t think his unconscious mind would be able to conjure up the image of Batman being scuffed up.
So this was really happening. Ba-Bruce had avenged him. Years too late, but he had done it. The singular reason he had gone back to Gotham, and Bruce had just done it without his interference. Because he had learned from Jason’s death.
“Why?” Jason asked, not sure what he was asking about.
“I won’t lose you, any of you,” Bruce said. As if that was all there needed to be said.
“I’m still mad at you,” Jason said, the words muffled by Batman’s cape as he found himself clawing at the man like he couldn’t stay standing without support. Bruce was as solid and warm as he remembered from when he was younger.
“And I am so, so sorry,” Bruce said. “I hope you will allow me the chance to show you that I mean it.”
“...Not just me,” Jason said, biting back the rejection that he wanted to give. Wanted to make Bruce understand that leaving him to die was unforgivable. That sticking another child into his death-shroud of a costume to die was impossible to ignore.
Bruce had killed the Joker. He could change.
But Bruce didn’t say anything, cocking his head as he looked at Jason. Not able to follow what he was saying.
The pit rage flared and Jason couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tell Batman how badly he had failed if he missed Jason telling him to his face that he had abandoned Tim and the other Titans.
Growling he could only rush at Batman, punching at his unprotected joins, kicking the back of his knees as he tried to break whatever shell Bruce lived in that kept him willfully blind to the state of the Titans’ Tower before he had come, to the less than subtle hints that Tim had dropped about wanting to be legally part of the family, to the way that he had left his own flesh and blood to be raised by Ra’s and still think that the only person he needed to make it up to was Jason. Street rat Jason who had gone off like an idiot and gotten himself killed because he thought his birthmother was family.
The pit rose, tinting the wrecked room poison green as he threw Batman through the wall, ignoring the burn of his wounded side. It turned to a verdant green almost too deep to see through as he shattered a painting over Batman’s pointy ears.
Some small part of Jason knew that he couldn’t just hit Batman until he understood, but Jason wasn’t the kind of person who could just forgive either. Maybe, once Batman was stuck healing in a hospital bed, he’d be more open to listening to what Jason said, rather than dismissing it.
Jason hefted an abstract art pieced he’d bought for Cyborg at the SF holiday fair a few weeks back. It was weighted nicely for a makeshift club.
“Jason Peter Wayne-Todd!” a voice snapped. “Put that down.”
***
Later, after Alfred had ripped both of them a new one, Jason and Bruce had managed to work things out. Mostly.
“If I’m going to become Alfred 2.0 for the Titans,” Jason said, “You are going to be honest with me. I get full access to your files, and veto power if you try to order the Titans around.”
“Eventually,” Bruce countered, “You still need to be brought up to speed on the training. Three years of training with me and Alfred, then you get full access and veto powers.”
“I’ve already been taking care of the Titans, and I rescued your son before you even knew he existed. I start now, with weekly check-ins with Alfred.”
“Hng.” Bruce considered. “Three weeks of training in Gotham with me and Dick, then we switch to weekly check-ins.”
“Fine. But I’m not going to give up my guns.”
“Hn. But you are going to publicly come back to life as Jason Wayne,” Bruce said, “Please?”
“I was planning to adopt Tim anyways, since you’ll have your hands full with Damian.”
“You want to adopt Tim?”
“Duh?” Jason said, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to schedule doctor’s appointments, or SAT exams, or take him to the shooting range when I’m not his legal guardian?”
Bruce didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Jason thought of the parties raging in Gotham at the death of the clown, and let him take a minute to collect his thoughts.
“You are my son, first and foremost, Jason,” he said. “I am—It is good that you want to take care of Tim, but I need you to know that you are part of this family with or without that.”
“I know, old man,” Jason said, finally daring to take a sip of the hot chocolate Alfred had prepared for them before disappearing. “But I want the Titans to have someone who isn’t also their boss.”
“You’ve done a good job of that,” Bruce said. He met Jason’s eyes as he said it, awkward as it was.
Jason couldn’t take the seriousness any more. “I know,” he said, “I still don’t understand how breaking into the tower turned into this.”
“You broke into the tower?” Bruce said, “How.”
Leaning forward, Jason settled into the easy familiarity of reporting a security breach. After all, it was now his job to keep his little family safe and happy.