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"Bruce, what the hell?!"
Dick said it all too often of late, but with good reason.
Bruce was a jerk most of the time, he fired him from Robin to keep him safe.
(As if a vampire could ever have a peaceful life.)
Joke on him, Dick had created a new name for himself and had broken away from the shadow of his mentor. He won't give up that life just because he wasn't safe.
Dick preferred to stay away from Gotham for a while, but if Alfred called you on an urgent matter, you put everything aside and came immediately.
He had expected another mass escape from Arkham, not Bruce who picked up a random child from the street and brought him into the cave, also revealing his identity.
Bruce. What the fuck?
"Vampires need a coven," Bruce said, his hands still on the kid's shoulders, in a gesture of protection not unusual for the man.
Dick knew how possessive and suffocating he could be. It was one of the reasons he was gone: he needed his freedom.
Yet he acknowledged that Bruce was right: vampires, especially newbies, needed a coven to protect them.
That was how he had survived so long.
It was no surprise that Bruce's instincts kicked in at the sight of what he thought was a kid vampire, not when it had already happened once.
Old age - or excessive exposure to Ivy's pollens - must have made his nose and eyes go haywire.
Because the little boy was not a vampire.
"It's true, vampires need a coven," Dick admitted.
"But you haven't noticed anything strange with this kiddo?" he asked, beginning to understand why Alfred had called him.
Someone had to put some sense into the old vampire, and unfortunately, Alfred was just a human.
"What do you mean?"
"It means I'm not a vampire!" the little boy snapped.
"I don't smell like death!"
First, rude. Second, the kid had some guts!
From someone who was trembling with sheer terror, Dick certainly wouldn't have expected such bluntness.
Dick had to admit, he liked the kid.
Bruce looked at the boy without understanding, "You have vampire fangs. And you are strong. How could you not be a vampire?"
"Vampires aren't the only ones with fangs..."
The boy was interrupted by a sneeze, and his tail and wolf's ears came out.
Dick put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, while Bruce blinked, confused. Now perhaps he was realizing the mistake he had made!
"You don't smell like a wolf," the man said.
"You don't smell like a pack."
"Newsflash, asshole! You can't smell a pack if you don't have one!"
Dick stopped laughing. Shit.
A puppy, all alone, in the city with the highest rate of supernatural creatures in the world. And with the highest creature murder rate in all of America.
Gotham was heaven for bounty hunters who wanted to make an easy buck.
Living safely in Gotham for a werewolf without a pack was a utopia.
One glance was enough to tell that the puppy was undernourished, sickly, and weak. If Bruce didn't find it, someone else would.
And his intentions certainly wouldn't have been good.
Bruce said to himself, "A coven can take anyone the sire wishes. Even a young wolf."
Oh, he understood what Bruce was thinking. Dick said, "Your uncle will hate it."
"All the more reason to do it."
Seriously, the Waynes' levels of pettiness were something else entirely.
Frowning, he said, "You couldn't adopt a werewolf pup to spite your uncle."
"It's not out of spite. I don't want to leave him alone..."
As I was, the unspoken sentence.
Alfred was great, but he wasn't a vampire.
Humans couldn't understand. Bruce had needed a coven and had required his mother's brothers. They had rejected him for some stupid blood purity law.
Bruce understood pain and would not subject anyone, vampire or other creature, to that kind of torture.
And well who was Dick to stop him?
The boy moved his ears uneasily, "Do you want to keep me as a slave?"
"No!" they both said at the same time.
He and Bruce stared at each other for a few moments, and then Bruce continued, "I'd like to welcome you into my family, Jason."
"But you're a vampire!"
"I am the sire of my coven, and I can choose who to take."
The boy frowned, "Vampires say werewolves are mindless beasts. That's why they use us as slaves."
"Well, I see a very cute puppy," Dick said, ruffling his hair. His ears were so soft! So cute!
"A brave puppy, if he dared to steal from Batman."
Jason blushed, "I'm not cute."
"But you're smart."
"I suppose I am."
"We won't force you," Bruce promised him.
"You can leave if you want…"
"Even though it would be stupid," Dick added.
Bruce grimaced, "Entering a coven has to be voluntary. It's for life."
"But he's gone," Jason said, nodding at Dick.
Dick didn't know how to reply. Bruce thought about it, "He chose a different home. But he is still family."
Family. He knew he was, despite everything.
It was just hard not to feel anything when Mr. Emotional Constipation admitted to something so intimate.
Jason wrinkled his nose, "You won't make me drink blood? Or will you try to make me your servant?"
"Never."
Jason was silent for a while, then said, "Maybe it's not a bad idea to stay for a while. But don't try to boss me around!"
"Kind of difficult. He is an overbearing parent," Dick joked.
Bruce didn't correct him, nor did he frown. He watched and Dick realized he had short-circuited him by calling him a parent.
The sire was experiencing too many emotions for his liking.
Fortunately, Alfred descended into the cave, announcing that he had prepared food for the new young master.
Jason looked anxiously at Bruce, who said, "We'll be right over, Alfred."
As they were going upstairs, Bruce said, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
"Can I?"
"This is your home."
"It is ?"
"Always."
Damn, he hated when Bruce was so sincere. Dick bit the inside of his cheek. He surmised that it wouldn't hurt to stay to make sure the puppy settled down without incident.
Just for Jason! He didn't want to do it for Bruce!
(Big liar. )