Work Text:
It was somewhat needless to point out that Jason didn't usually have the easiest time with sleep, and by usually he meant near constantly.
It wasn't smart to sleep too deeply out on the streets, you'd be robbed, or kidnapped, or something worse, it overall just wasn't good. And even before that, Jason lived in a house with a man who was very temperamental when drunk, and he'd always been drunk.
So he'd learned early in life that sleeping wasn't really something you did unless you were sure you were 100% safe, and Jason was never 100% safe.
He'd never really had nightmares before coming to Wayne manor, turns out when you don't sleep nearly enough, to the point that you only ever 'sleep' when you pass out from exhaustion, you don't really dream, your body is just so tired that all you do is try and get more energy. So, Jason hadn't had a dream that he could remember in years, Well- until he had come to Wayne manor.
Yes, even though it had seemed impossible before, Wayne manor, seemed to have become a place his body deemed as safe. which meant that he was actually sleeping, honestly too much.
It was like he was catching up for the years of nights of lost sleep, and sort of just, sleeping all day. but the thing about that, is that his body eventually caught up to itself, and was no longer too tired to dream, and Jason hadn't had a very kind life. So when he started dreaming, well, they weren't very nice dreams.
So he started trying to stay awake as much as possible, which really just meant that he ended up collapsing from exhaustion, and somehow still dreaming, because god just really fucking hates him or something.
So that, is sort of how he got here: asleep, at ass o'clock in the morning, trapped in a nightmare, completely unable to wake the fuck up.
-
Hands, all over him, touching him in places- touching him everywhere, hands around his throat, hands on his hips and on his thighs, hands on his waist, suffocating him, he can't breathe, he can't-
"Master Jason!" He hears, loud and sounding worried.
He wakes up gasping, sweaty and confused, looking frantically around his room his eyes land on Alfred, who is half leaned over him, his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture
"Alfred?" He asks, voice horse from screaming, it felt raw, he was confused "What are you doing here?" He asked, the butler never came into his room unannounced much less without explicit permission, he seemed to really value privacy, and Jason really appreciated that about him.
"You were screaming." he says in the way of a response.
"Oh" Jason says, sort of dumbly, not really sure what to say after that, but he just stares off, looking past Alfred, too caught up in his own head, his memories, the hands- and even worse the mouths. And with that train of though a horrible possibility arose in his mind: what if Alfie was here to do what those men used to do to him- he stops himself, he has to, taking a moment to think beyond the panic and fear, taking a moment to use the training Bruce had been putting him through, to think clinically and logically. And he quickly came to the conclusion that Alfred wouldn't do that, Alfred's good, he's safe- it's Alfred.
And that thought was logical, it quieted his brain slightly, made him slow down even further, but even though he had found the logical conclusion, that didn't stop the fear from taking root in his mind, he grew tense, muscles so tight they started vibrating, he feels like he did every time he was with a john, like his skin was pulled to tight, like any second he would just snap-
But Alfred must have sensed his distress "Why don't we go downstairs for some hot chocolate" a soothing voice startles him out of his little spiral, it was warm and soft and, safe.
He nodded and allowed himself to be lead out of him room and down the stairs, he sat on a stool at the large island in the middle of the kitchen while Alfred heated the milk for their hot chocolate.
Jason watched happily as Alfred fluttered around the kitchen, pulled out different ingredients and utensils, mixing and whisking and- the old man looked at peace, and looking at him Jason felt a warmth in his heart.
Once it was done Alfred poured the steaming liquid into cups, adding a bit of peppermint and a few too many marshmallows to Jason's cup- just the way he likes it- while adding a shake of cinnamon to his own, then bringing them both over to the island, setting one cup down in front of Jason and the other down in front of the seat next to him, before sitting down himself.
"Now, whatever is the matter?" Worried eyes settled upon Jason's trembling form.
"s' nothin' Alfie, m'sorry, I didn't mean to wake ya" Jason slurred, still obviously tired and anxious.
Alfred, in true Alfred fashion, wasn't taking any of Jason's shit. "you know, Master Bruce used to have nightmares, still does" the man says, as if testing the waters, then he continues. "and over the years that I've helped him with his nightmares I've learned that -however silly it might sound- talking is the best remedy for nightmares" the mans smile was warm, caring, like it always is, like it had been sense Jason arrived at the manor.
"These aren't nightmares you wanna hear about Alf" And that was an understatement, Alfred would be down right disgusted at the sight of Jason if he heard what Jason got up to as a kid, hell, he might kick Jason out.
The older man just shook his head at Jason and set his mug down with slightly more force than necessary. "Nonsense, I would love to hear about it, if it would help you feel better of course" the older man assured him, in fact, sounding so sure, that Jason almost believed him
Jason thought about it for a moment, on one hand, he really liked Alfred, and it would break him if the man found out about what he used to do and decided he was disgusted by him, but in the other hand something deep inside him really wanted to tell someone, to tell Alfred, and maybe it was something in the mans voice or the way he was looking at him but something about him screamed 'safe' and as much as he was ashamed of what he'd done he also wanted to get it off of his chest, he wants to believe Alfred when he says he wants to hear about it, he doesn't really believe him but he wants to, and he guesses that's enough.
Jason takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly "Alright, but you can't say I didn't warn ya"
Alfred gives him a small smile and nods for him to continue, the man was encouraging him. Jason sighs and rubs a hand across his forehead "alright, so I'm 8, 9 probably, and its freezing out, and I don't have a coat or money to buy a coat, so basically I'm screwed, but then this guy comes up to me, he's tall, I remember thinking he looked tired, but then again everyone in crime alley did so- anyway, he pulls out two twenty's and says that they could be mine, if only I help him with a little problem of his" he cant help the anger- the disgust that seeps into his voice, he hates that man, before then, he hadn't thought it possible to hate someone you didn't even know the name of, now he knows better.
And maybe it was something in Jason's voice, or the Face he made while speaking but Alfred seemed to catch on quick, to what he was getting at, he can see the gears turning in the older mans head as he listens, and eyes widen a fraction when he finally gets where the story was going, but Jason ignores it, instead continuing
"and I'm suspicious, but I'm willing to hear the guy out, i mean with that much money I could buy a real jacket, and a meal, so I ask him about this problem of his and he just smiles wider, i mean, he must have taken that for a yes cuz next thing I know the guys on me and- " he cuts himself off, taking a long drink of his hot chocolate, holding it on his tongue to let the peppermint flavor seep into his very being.
"After he was...done, he handed me the money and left, I was a mess, but I did get that jacket, and I survived that winter so- but that was just the first time, there were- god I don't even know how many others there were, some asked, some didn't, some paid, some didn't- and actually a lot of them promised me a hundred and only gave me 50 once they were done, fuckin assholes" he takes another drink, glancing at Alfred, the older mans eyes are filling with tears, and Jason could feel his own tears breaking free
"So, there." his voice broke " there it is: now you know- I'm dirty- and - I'm sorry- god- I'm sorry Alf, I'm sorry" and then the tears fell, thick and heavy, they felt like they burned as they rolled down his face, and Alfred's gaze softens once more
"My dear boy, none of that makes me think any less of you" he said, leaning in slightly towards Jason "Because despite what you've done, what you had to do, you are still the smart, witty and energetic boy I know and have come to love as my own" Alfred smiles at him, somehow Jason don't feel uncomfortable from it.
"So- so you don't care?" Jason asked, feeling like a child for the first time sense he was 6. Alfred's eyes softened "about what, my dear boy?" Jason let out a sob "That I was a hooker" he said plainly, almost brokenly, he certainly feels broken.
"Master Jason, you were -and are still- a child, you could not consent and there for you were not a hooker or a prostitute or a sex worker, you were a victim of rape" Alfred stated kindly "furthermore, even if you had been an adult and able to consent to sex work I would still love you the same, it does not make you dirty or unclean, in fact I think sex workers are to be respected, it's an honest living after all, at least when they are of age and able to consent"
Jason just cried harder, his head slowly tipped its way into Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred, though physical affection is not one of his strong suits, raised his arms to encircle the boy, one wrapping around his back and the other coming up to cup the nape of his neck, their hot chocolate long forgotten.
"Don't tell Bruce" Jason begs, just above a whisper
"Maste-"
"Please" he begs, his voice breaking again. and Alfred gives him a sad smile
"Of course, you trusted me with this, i will not break that trust" Jason smiles at him then turns his face away, burying it in Alfred's shoulder.
Jason doesn't know how long they stay there, all he knows is that he wakes up in his bed the next morning, confused, he has no idea how the old butler managed to get him up the stairs, but he's glad he did, this way he can pretend it was all a dream. And maybe it was, but he really, really hopes it wasn't.