Chapter Text
Jason would like to say he’s balancing things in a pretty okay way.
Danny’s getting more and more settled in the manor every day and opening up to all of them at a pretty steady pace. He and Jason have had some pretty heavy talks about Danny’s family and what happened and all of Danny’s complicated feelings in the aftermath; it’s hard, sure, but they’re figuring it out. At the very least, Danny seems to have learned he can depend on Jason – and the rest of the family. Some days are harder than others – some days, Danny prefers to stay shut in his room, playing alone, or on the roof with his telescope in the evenings (with the company of Jason, his aunts or uncles, and so on, as supervision, of course) – but there are more good days than bad days.
The manor is littered with scrap metal; most every piece in turn littered with teeth-marks and indentations in the shape of Danny’s little hands. Jason could swear the kid’s teeth look sharper and longer every day.
They have a pretty steady patrol/babysitting schedule now, too. While overseeing patrols from the Cave, Alfred always keeps an eye on the cameras posted around the manor, ready to assist in case Danny wakes up and goes wandering. At the same time, at least one other person always sits out of patrols, staying at home in their room; Danny is awesome, and doesn’t question it when he’s informed of who will be available should he need someone in the middle of the night. Truthfully, Jason thinks the kid might suspect about the whole bat thing, but he hasn’t brought it up yet, and they agreed they wouldn’t tell him unless he brings it up first. He does seem a bit sad whenever it’s not Jason who will be home with him, and Jason hates to see it, but he’s not going to press the issue as of right now. Danny knows he can talk to Jason about anything – and he’s actually really, really good at it, bringing up stuff when he needs to – so for now, Jason will let the kid lead the way on this particular matter.
Going out working is…
Fuck, honestly, Jason isn’t sure how Bruce ever fucking managed it; going out and risking his neck every night, knowing there’s a kid at home who needs him, how the fuck does he do it? Every time Jason masks up, every inch of his body and brain is screaming at him not to do it, not to go out, not risk getting his stupid ass killed and ripping everything away from Danny all over again. He feels like a fucking monster every time he tucks Danny in only to head straight down to the Cave to get to work.
Jason focuses on the days instead. He focuses on being with Danny then, instead. All those other thoughts, he stomps them down just the same way he does the Pits.
The days are good; his time with Danny is good.
That’s all that matters.
Of course, life can never be easy for anyone in the cape and cowl community, can it? The other shoe just has to drop; it’s a fact of life. A fucking rule of nature. And as usual, none of them saw it coming at all.
No, it all started as a normal enough day, only for things to turn to shit in the middle of the day when Leslie arrived for Danny’s check-up. It’s been on the schedule for a few days already; Bruce suggested a check-up just to make sure everything is alright and Danny’s healthy – and to asses any possible side-effects of the little squirt chewing on fucking metal scrap – especially after everything the kid’s been through, and so, Leslie was called up and Danny penciled into her busy schedule.
Jason is in the library with the kid, Bruce hanging around too; Danny is chattering about the stars he could see through his awesome telescope and telling Jason everything he knows about each and every single one, to which Jason listens intently while good old grampa watches on with a smile.
Then, Damian shows Leslie inside, dressed in her white coat and carrying her medical bag.
Danny takes one look at her and lets out a shriek unlike anything Jason has ever heard in his life.
A split-second later, Jason shouts too, when five sharp claws dig deep into his forearm. Danny snatches his hand back — Jason sees a flash of crimson staining his razor-tipped little fingers — and vaults over the back of the couch. The upholstery rips under his hands, leaving ten deep gouges in the material. Everyone is on their feet, Jason clutches his bleeding arm, someone shouts for Danny. The boy shrieks again, as if trying to roar, and – runs straight at Leslie and Damian, claws and teeth brandished. Damian has only just enough time to drag Leslie to the floor when Danny lunges at them like a great cat on its prey. Instead, he goes through the open door behind them and hits the wall across the hallway; his claws rasp viciously against the wood paneling, but he bounces away from the wall as if it were a springboard, taking off down the hall on foot.
“Danny!” Jason shouts as he follows. “Danny, wait!”
Fuck, what the hell is happening?!
Jason tries to follow, but a firm hand gripping his good arm stops him. “Lemme go! I gotta- He’s scared!”
“Stop!” Bruce shouts so loudly it actually has Jason flinching back, an instinct he knows he’s kept buried for years. “Jay, let Leslie look at your arm, I’ll go after him. At least let her stop the bleeding.”
Before Jason can argue, the old man has run off after the kid.
It’s been three hours.
The whole family was called in after the first thirty minutes passed without any sign of Danny.
They’ve swept the whole manor from top to bottom; they even searched the Cave; they’re on their second sweep, with Damian and Dick outside checking the gardens and the barn.
Jason can’t breathe with how heavy his anxiety feels. He paces through the manor, calling for the kid, but there’s no sign of him. What happened? Where is he? Why was he so afraid? Why did Leslie scare him like that? Is he okay? Is he hurt? Where could he be hiding? Why is he hiding? Why didn’t he trust that Jason would protect him? Will they ever find him? Did he run away? Did he leave the estate somehow? Did he think Jason was going to let Leslie hurt him? Will he ever come back? Is he lost? Can he find his way back?
“Danny! Danny, please come out! I know you’re scared but please come out! I’ll protect you, baby, I promise!” Jason calls as he moves up the stairs to the third floor. The gauze wrapped shoddily around his arm itches like hell. No response. He taps the comm link in his ear. “Anything?”
“Nothing yet,” Damian responds. “The barn is clear. No tracks in or out, either. I am searching the south-west corner.”
“Nothing here,” Dick adds. “Heading north-east, no tracks. I don’t think he went outside but we’ll keep looking.”
Tim checks in next, stationed at the computer down in the Cave. “Nothing on surveillance. Seriously, it’s like the little guy’s invisible! I mean, B’s on him down the second floor main hallway then between cameras, he just disappears. No alerts on the estate perimeter, but honestly, based on this, who knows if that even means anything?”
Fucking fuck; the kid is well and truly gone, and right in the goddamn manor just to spread salt in the wound. Jason has more experience with feeling like a failure than any one person should have, and yet, he can’t remember a bigger failure than this. What was he thinking?! Springing a fucking doctor on a still unstable, unsettled kid whose trust they’ve yet to fully earn? And a meta, at that! People talk big about the Meta Protection Act, but since when he has the law ever stopped bigots from doing bigot shit? Who knows how Danny’s parents really reacted when they realized their son wasn’t like them? Or his doctor, since that seems to be a trigger of some sort. God only fucking knows what kind of sick shit they put in Danny’s head. Fuck… They should’ve handled this better. Jason should’ve handled this better. Fuck knows he’s suffered through enough parental-figure fuck-ups (many with the courtesy of the big bat himself) to know better. He should’ve done better. Shit, is this what they talk about when they say that being a parent is just a long line of your kid getting fucked over because of your mistakes?
Jason is not taking this moment to feel any measure of sympathy for the old man. Not at all. No sympathy here. None.
“I think I got something,” Duke whispers.
Jason freezes. “Where?”
“Attic. Be quiet when you get here.”
Attic! Of course! Quiet, out of the way, minimal chance of being disturbed, plenty of places to hide; of course it’s the attic!
Jason runs.
In what seems like only a blink, Jason is meeting Duke at the bottom of the narrow staircase that leads to the attic entrance, tucked away in the far corner of the old servant’s quarters. Duke stops him from running blindly up the stairs after his s— the kid.
“I heard crying but I didn’t approach,” Duke says as he makes Jason pause. “I figured he’s closest with you so you’d probably get the best response. There’s — There’s more claw marks on the door and the top of the stairs. It sounded like he was talking to himself. Something about taking him away and — cutting him open. Ripping him apart.”
The swell of angry green buzzes in Jason’s ears like static from a radio. He screws his eyes shut. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Jason. The kid’s already terrified; Jason losing his cool to the Pit is only going to make things worse, and he knows that. Reasonably, he fucking knows that. He knows; he really, truly fucking knows the Pit Madness would only chase Danny further away. Logically, he knows.
But the idea of someone taking Danny away? Cutting him open? Ripping him apart? The urge to burn the world to the ground draws so very near to overwhelming.
Duke hands him a flashlight then steps out of the way. Deep breaths. Jason climbs the stairs.
On the top three steps, claw marks are scattered over the old wood, deep uneven furrows in the material. It makes Danny’s hands look so damn small. The marks surround the door knob. Like a cat pawing at it, trying to get a hold of it somehow. Jason recognizes the pattern. Danny can open doors fine, he just sometimes struggles to grab the knob the right way to turn it properly; he knows how to do it but his hands aren’t quite big enough to get the right leverage. He has to use both hands to get it done. It’s obvious that’s what happened here; he struggled at first, even with both hands — the new addition of the claws probably adding another layer of difficulty to it — but got through in the end.
Jason nudges the door open and turns on the flashlight. The cone of yellow light scans over the musty old space.
“Danny-baby?” he says, his voice raised but his tone soft. “It’s Jayjay. Are you here, baby?”
The floor is dotted with more furrows and marks, almost like the kid was moving on all fours. They’re scattered, though, and far from consistent. Was he trying to not leave marks?
“Baby, it’s okay, you’re safe here,” Jason tries to assure. He follows the trail of marks as he searches over the surroundings. “No one's gonna take you away, Danny, I promise. I won’t let ‘em.”
The attic is filled with stacks of cardboard boxes, old furniture covered with dusty sheets, and God knows what else. More than anything, it’s a damn maze. No wonder Danny chose to go here; finding anything here would be a challenge.
Jason pauses at the sound of a soft sniffle.
“Danny?”
Making the thud of his boots on the floor just a bit louder as not to spook the kid, Jason makes his approach slowly.
He finds Danny; the little boy has crammed himself into the small space between the bare brick wall and what appears to be a couch (though it’s difficult to tell really with the sheets covering it), curling up in the corner with tears flooding down his face. His little hands — thankfully claw-free again — rub at his cheeks but wiping away one tear doesn’t do much when two quickly fall to take its place. When he looks up, Jason’s heart stutters for a brief moment.
Danny’s eyes glow like those of a cat, a blank sheen of greenish white reflecting the light of the flashlight.
Jason lowers the light and gets to his knees. “Hey, kiddo. This is a great hiding spot. We had some real trouble finding you, baby. You’re really good at hiding. Bet you’d beat all of us if we play hide and seek!”
Danny snivels. “I-I’m so-sorry,” he whispers. “I got- I got scared.”
Jason fucking aches for him. “Oh, baby… There’s no need to apologize. Everyone gets scared sometimes. It’s okay to be scared.”
“But- But I hurt you!” the boy whines, clearly distressed as he glances at the gauze on Jason’s forearm.
“I know, baby, but you didn’t mean to, right? It was an accident?”
Danny nods rapidly.
“That’s okay. Accidents happen, and I’m not angry with you. Sometimes when we get upset, accidents happen, and it’s no one’s fault. Can you — Danny, can you tell me why you were scared? If you can tell me, I can try to fix it.”
Danny looks away. He rubs at his eyes and sucks in a deep, gasping breath. “W-White. She- She wore white.”
Fuck. The lab coat. Check, on the medical trauma.
“I get it, baby. Doctors can be scary sometimes. I’m sorry she surprised you like that. We didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m really sorry I let it happen. Would… Would it be better if she didn’t wear white?”
Danny chews his lip. “Guys in white… They’ll take me away. They- They’ll hurt me!”
The boy whimpers out another choked sob and Jason’s heart just fucking breaks to pieces. “Hey, baby, c’mon, can you look at me?”
Danny drags his hands over his face, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve. But he does look over at Jason, his big baby blues all red-rimmed and tear-swollen.
“Baby, I promise you, I will never let anyone take you away,” Jason tells him, his tone gentle but firm. “Never, ever, ever. No one is taking you anywhere you don’t wanna go. I won’t let ‘em. Neither will your grampa, or your gramps, or any of your aunts and uncles. No one. We’ll stop ‘em. We’ll protect you. We’ll always protect you, Danny.”
Danny watches him. Each moment feels like an eternity. Every second feels like a whole year.
Danny scrabbles out of his corner and crawls across the dusty floor, straight into the arms Jason opens for him. He latches onto Jason like a little octopus and clings to his shirt and cries near silently into his shoulder.
“It’s okay, baby,” Jason whispers as he rocks back and forth with Danny, holding him tight and stroking his hair. “I got you, baby. I got you.”
Three days later, after several very long conversations, Jason leads Danny into the main living room. The whole family is there, on his request. He agreed to see Leslie, if everyone was there with him and he got to hold Jason’s hand the whole time and no one wears white.
Leslie sits on one of the couches, next to Bruce, with her medical bag at her feet; her coat has been left behind at the clinic.
Danny squeezes Jason’s hand. He half-hides behind the man as they enter. When they sit down on the couch, Danny crawls into Jason’s lap.
“Danny, this is Leslie. You remember what I told you about her, right?”
Danny nods but keeps a death grip on Jason’s hand. “You- You t-take care of everyone,” he says, more a question than a statement. “Jason a-and grampa and Uncle Damian and everyone?”
Leslie’s smile is small but kind. “That’s right, Danny.” Her tone is gentle. “I’ve taken care of Jason since he was ten. And you know, the first time I saw your grampa, he was just a little baby! Just a few months old.”
“R-Really?”
“Mh-hm! He was so tiny! He wasn’t very happy to see me, though. A bit like you. Oh, poor little thing, he screamed and cried and made such a fuss the whole time, you wouldn’t believe it! Still has a habit of making a fuss these days, even old as he is.”
God, Jason really can’t describe the utter relief he feels when Danny actually lets out the smallest little giggle at the doctor’s comment.
From there, the check-up goes – it goes well, Jason would like to say. Danny does require some rather gentle handling, sure, and it probably takes a lot longer than this sort of thing usually does, but they get through it. The blood draw proves a bit of an issue – Danny refuses, nearly spiraling into panic again when it’s brought up – but Leslie is a consummate professional. The moment she notes the first sign of discomfort from her patient, she drops it and moves on to the next matter like it never happened. As soon as everything is done, Alfred – that godsend of a man – draws Danny out of the room with the promise of freshly baked cookies, and Danny – eager both for cookies and to get away from Leslie – gladly lets himself be lead away to the kitchen.
“Anything we should know?” Bruce is the one to ask, once the door has shut behind Danny and Alfred.
Leslie exhales a soft sigh. “The records you showed me were as up to date as one could hope. I don’t have anything major to add as of yet. A blood panel would be preferable but obviously, that’s something we’re going to have to wait on. I’d strongly suggest some kind of psychiatric contact. He’s obviously been through a lot, and that’s not even taking into consideration his reaction to our first meeting. His teeth are interesting. They look mostly normal in placement, but I noticed some interesting elongation and slight changes in shapes. Everything looks healthy enough to me, but I’d suggest visiting a dentist if possible, though I assume it might be a complicated process for him. Again, probably something a psychiatric contact might be helpful with. Further, he’s…small, for his age. Not underdeveloped, but a bit too small compared to the norm. I think past malnourishment is a definite possibility. Have any of you noticed any odd behavior surrounding food, or eating?”
“He’s wary,” Damian says, the first to speak up. “He regards his food with a measure of caution. As if…it may be dangerous. At times, I would almost believe he is testing it to see what will happen when he touches it.”
“I noticed that, too,” Duke adds. “But it’s only here, at home. When we went to BatBurger last week, he was fine, but then for dinner, he was wary again, like Damian said.”
Dick looks uncomfortable with whatever realization he is coming to. “Like outside food is safe, but anything provided at home might not be safe.”
And now Jason is horrified and uncomfortable, too.
What the fuck does that mean, when food at home isn’t safe but food anywhere else is? What the hell did Danny’s parents do to their kids’ food to make him react like that? Did they poison them? Did they do it regularly enough that each meal provided had to be approached with caution? For there to be caution, it would mean that Danny knew he was being poisoned. Was it done to every meal? Or perhaps, was it used as a punishment? Each incident of misbehaving met with days and days of meals laced with something.
“Could – Could that be why he’s small? Because he was being poisoned?”
Leslie’s kind hand on Jason’s shoulder should bring comfort, but it doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t. How can anything comfort Jason, when there’s a possibility that every meal Danny once ate was poisoned?
“It’s certainly possible,” Leslie confirms as gently as anyone could.
What’s gentle about the idea of his baby possibly spending years being forced to eat poison?
Jason flips the side table placed next to the couch as he gets up – it crashes to the floor, an antique lamp shatters, something breaks. The door slams behind him when he leaves. The manor front door slams just the same.
He needs to take a fucking walk because he is feeling way too green right now.
Jason doesn’t look up when he hears someone walking towards where he sits in the garden. It sounds like Bruce, but even that doesn’t seem like enough motivation to move. The old man sits down on the stone bench with a soft sigh. He doesn’t say anything.
Probably wants Jason to be the one to break the silence.
Jason doesn’t know what to say. All he can think about is Danny and his sister and making up horror story scenarios of what they might have gone through, every thought worse than the previous.
“He’s safe now,” Bruce says, finally. “That’s what matters.”
The words put a bitter taste in Jason’s mouth. “And that excuses everything he suffered before, does it?”
“No. No, it doesn’t, but it’s what we have to hold onto.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. We just do. When – Jaylad, when you moved in here, when you let me become your guardian, I had all those same thoughts you have now. I still have them. About you, about Dick and Tim and Damian, and every one of my kids. Sometimes, it’s all I can think about, the awful, horrible things you all went through, the pain you all suffered, and it kills me every single time. But…I’ve also learned that there’s nothing I can do to change the past. All I can do is be there for you now. And yes, I’ve failed. Jay, I’ve failed you and your siblings in more ways than I could ever imagine, and out of all the mistakes in my life, those are the ones I’m the most ashamed of. The ones I’ll never forgive myself for. All I can do is be here now. Do my best to never repeat those mistakes. Support you all in whatever ways you need me to. And…that’s all you can do for Danny, too. You can’t change what he’s been through, Jay. Just be there for him now.”
Jason swallows. Fuck. Fuck…
“He’s just… He’s so small, B. He’s so small, and so happy and excited and – What if I screw up? What if – B, what if I hurt him?”
A heavy arm wraps over Jason’s shoulders. For the first time in years, it doesn’t rankle to be touched by Bruce, to be approached with the gentleness he remembers from before. For once, Jason wants his dad to hold him.
“You won’t, Jay. You won’t hurt him. Even if you screw up and make mistakes, you’ll never hurt him. You could never. Never.”
“But what if the Pit-”
“Stop. Stop it, Jay. Don’t even go there. If you can’t trust yourself, then try to trust us. Do you really think Alfred would let anyone hurt his great-grandson? Even you? Do you think your siblings would let anyone hurt Danny, even if it was you? I know – Jay, I know you and me have our issues, and you have every right to be at odds with me, but if you think for a single second I’d let anyone hurt my grandson, even if it was you, then you’re sorely mistaken. I’d rather die than let him be hurt. Think whatever you want about me, Jay, I won’t stop you, but that you have to know is a fact.”
He does. Jason does know. He knows. He does, he does, he does, and yet –
“I’m scared, dad.”
Bruce hugs him.
He pulls Jason to him and squeezes him close and tight and fucking strokes his hair and kisses his head and –
Fuck, Jason’s really fucking missed his dad’s hugs.
He hopes…
He hopes he gives Danny hugs that are even just half as good as Bruce’s. That would be – That’d be really nice. Danny deserves good hugs from his dad.