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Jason's wings were arguably the most beautiful in the colony's, before the Joker got to them that is. Living up to his nickname as a jay they were a vibrant cascading blue leading into blocks of white and outlined in black. Compared to Dick and Tim's iridescent hummingbird and crow wings or Damian's gray and black shrike wings, they stood out. It had been painstakingly hard to dye them compared to Dick as well as Dick could easily hide most of his wings under one color but Jason had to accommodate multiple layers of dye. Then he died and his pretty feathers lay scattered in blood pools as the Joker ripped them out with a vengeance and laughed at each pitiful squawk he made in pain. Jason died and came back without the pretty blue he was known for and instead a new vibrant mix of oranges and reds that were a struggle to see under all of the fire. That's right, fire, because Jason came back a phoenix whether he liked it or not.
First, he reasoned with the whole thing in the way most people his age dealt with their trauma by joking and laughing and poking fun at his new body. Then he hit the stage of sobbing his eyes out in the bathroom of his run down safe house when no one was around to hear him because he remembered how much his mother (not his father, never his father) loved his colors when they grew in. Then he was nothing but rage because he blamed Bruce for taking that all away from him even though he knew deep down that Bruce did everything in his power to keep him safe and it was the Joker's fault and it's fine now, it really is. The Joker would die by his own hands eventually and he didn't have any wings to come back through in a literal blaze of glory.
The first few years of his new life were spent figuring out how to live again. How to be this new species of bird that tinted green fire whenever he was in a rage thanks to the Lazarus pit or burnt down 3 of his safehouses because he wasn't used to his feathers brushing up against paper and causing all hell to break loose. He had to learn how to not have half of what he took for granted because too many things in this world were stupidly flammable and that included the clothes he needed to wear. Jason learned to love himself again and his colors and more importantly learned how to turn off the fire when he actually wanted to go out in the public and enjoy life again.
Most importantly however, he learned to trust again.
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1. Roy+Lian
"Thanks for letting me crash here again." Jason muttered though his voice was muffled by the pillow he was facedown on, getting a bit of blood on it that Roy would have to wash out later once the guy was gone. He didn't need to look up to know he was being giving the stink-eye from his friend and former teammate because he could practically feel the tired dad energy radiating across the room. Roy was starting to feel like Bruce and that wasn't a compliment, the guy needed to get out more. Said man put his hand on his hip, hilarious when paired with his girly apron his daughter got him for father's day, and pointed the spatula he was using for early morning pancakes threateningly at the vigilante.
"I don't let you do anything. You came through the window and made yourself at home." It was true, Jason had done just that. He hadn't given a warning text or anything and just climbed the fire escape to the apartment and fell through the foolishly unlocked window. It was a nice neighborhood and Roy was lucky to get this place cheap as it was but no one should ever leave their window unlocked. Their best friends might crash on their couch while nursing a few nasty cuts and a concussion they should really put some ice on.
Lian sat on the floor in front of the couch, half hanging up on the coffee table with her favorite coloring book in front of her. One of the hero ones that she was accurately coloring save all for Green Arrow who comically got drawn being stabbed repeatedly by a stick figure caricature of herself. She used the red crayon vigorously to add all of the blood and both adult men would be lying if they said they didn't find it utterly adorable. When Jason came in she had loudly announced his presence to her father by cheerfully greeting him and now here they were.
"I'll take an order of pancakes."
"This isn't a restaurant, fucker."
"Banana if you got it."
Roy rolled his eyes, flinging his hands up as he finally gave in and started to trudge back to the kitchen. Jason smiled to himself and it was still hidden by the pillow but now that he knew he wasn't being kicked out he let his wings unfurl from his back and spread them out in the small room. Lian let out a gasp of awe as one stretched out over her because it created an array of colors around the room as it passed through the light. One thing Jason absolutely did love about being a phoenix was that since his wings were technically made of magic he didn't have to bother with slits in the back of his clothes to accommodate them. He could manifest them with ease no matter what he wore and it made his closet double in size once he realized it.
"Wait Jason don't-" It was too late and Roy sighed angrily. "If you burn down this place, I will pluck all of your feathers!"
Jason waved him off with a hand without looking up and he heard Roy finally reenter the kitchen with a few muttered curses under his breath. He folded the wings back only then and tucked them against himself to create a warm blanket against his sore muscles. The couch wasn't technically safe from his fire but he wasn't about to warn Roy and get relegated to the floor again. Lian turned her attention away from her coloring now that the light show was no longer on display and inched her way over to where his head was resting. He could feel her peering over the edge with her wide adorable eyes and he braced himself mentally for her barrage of questions. She always asked the same ones each time she saw his wings because she was a forgetful toddler and that's just how things worked in her brain.
"You're pretty." That's also something she constantly repeated each time she saw him and he could picture her dorky smile.
"Not as pretty as you, brat."
"I know!" She giggled and he smiled against the pillow, always happy to hear the sheer confidence Roy instilled in her. She was going to grow up to be a force to be reckoned with without a doubt, maybe the president and finally putting USA where it belonged, in time-out. "Does it hurt?" There's the first in her usual set of questions.
"Nope." Jason lifted his head to pop the p sound before tucking it back down into the fabric. "Supposed to be on fire, remember? It's the type of bird I am. Fire is a good thing. When I burn it means I'm healthy."
"Can you take a bath?"
"Is that a request or a question?" He knew the answer and huffed a laugh, "Yeah I can, they can get wet. It just means they turn off the fire for a bit until they're dry again. Your dad would kill me if I was stinky all of the time." It got a laugh out of her and he briefly thought about taking a nap. There was something about the sound of children's laughter that always made him feel at ease. It was a sign of a good place when a child laughed, a sign of safety and peace.
"LIAN NO!"
A peace which abruptly flew out the window as Roy screamed and a plate shattered and Jason lifted his head up just in time to see the bright eyed little angel grab hold of the primary feather nearest to her. Roy was making a dive for her to stop her, fear and tears already in his eyes for the sake of his precious gift's life, but it wasn't needed as her hand went through the flames without a single sign of discomfort and fingers brushed against his actual feathers. Still, her father snatched her away and held her aloft from Jason's wings as if expecting them to rear up and attack them even as he sank to the floor in relief. He checked his daughter's hand over six times before he looked at Jason who had sat up to make sure she was alright as well.
"What...why...Jace why didn't it...?" The man stammered out, unable to find the words as he just stared into Jason's eyes with a pleading look and demanding answers. He had been so afraid that Lian was going to end up just like all of the many shirts and building Jason accidentally burned before. He took a deep breath and then scowled, "Jason Peter Todd, if you've been able to control that and fucking with us this entire time-"
"I'm not that much of an asshole!" Jason protested, rolling his eyes. "Give me some credit!" It would've been funny the first time sure but he wasn't someone for those kind of jokes. Especially ones at the expense of a parent and child. He huffed and a bit of steam rolled out of his mouth from the stress of it all before he stretched out the very wing Lian had touched moments before towards Roy who flinched back. "It's fine Roy, it won't hurt you or Lian. Trust me."
"I trust YOU not those things!" Roy protested back, scowling. "I've seen the damage those things do when you're not paying attention! I've seen it!" He hesitated then, glancing between the wing and Lian's still perfectly fine tiny hand. "...why didn't it burn her?" He finally asked, finally able to find the words. "Jason, why?"
Jason is silent for a lot of reasons though some are more pressing than the next. He trusts Roy, he trusts Roy with his life just as much as the man trusts him but this is a secret he knows if it gets out could destroy him. Something he figured out within the first week of having these cursed wings but never told a soul. He knows the secret would do wonders for his health, mental and physical, he knows it could bring him joy in so many aspects but he remembers the Joker's fingers in his beautiful wings and he stays silent a moment more as his heart hammers in his chest. He looks at Roy holding his daughter, he looks at Lian who looks confused by her father's panic and he asks himself if he's finally ready to make this leap of trust.
"...they don't burn the people I love." He finally admits, his voice quiet and he sees Roy's expression change from confusion to surprise to a slow soft smile. He looks away, unable to process the love returned in that expression and he closes his eyes just to make sure he couldn't. He bit the bullet and told them but he's not entirely sure he's ready for what comes of saying those words.
Then a hand touches his wing again and he looks up to see Roy petting his primary with all the confidence of someone who knew all along they'd be safe. Lian is quick to join him with a wide smile stretched across her face. "It's so warm!" She says loudly and Roy chuckled in agreement.
They don't address the elephant in the room or the tears in Jason's eyes. They just sit there and they pet his wings, a feeling he hasn't felt in so long. They sit there and they trust him and love him back.
He'll remake the pancakes for them later.
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2. Babs
Jason was in the library, the only part-time job he can tolerate for a multitude of reasons. He doesn't have to face anybody who would make his blood pressure skyrocket and his boss is pretty cute. She also didn't ask for his information which is great since he has none of it. It might be because she's a nice person or because she used to tutor him. Either way, Babs lets him stock the shelves and clean once the library closes and she plays his favorite music over the speakers. The two of them dance like idiots when the rock music is interspersed with k-pop or dance dance revolution remixes. Sometimes he'll even drag her away from the computers by force and take her out on a spin across the large empty space.
"You can let your wings out!" Babs tells him one night when there's an overflow of donated books they're sorting through. It looks like they're going to be here well past midnight and she's got the blinds drawn and the bats on her setup already. She looks up from the current book she's making a label for with a grin at his confused face. "C'mon I've seen both versions, it's not like you have to hide them around me and we've got plenty of room for you to stretch out."
"Hey Barbie, I don't know if anyone told you this but my wings and books don't mix. Ever read Fahrenheit 451? They use this crazy thing called fire to get rid of a ton of these suckers." He rolled his eyes despite his words making his stomach flip. That's one of the things he misses most about his previous wings, the ability to have a homemade library. He didn't dare collect any books that he loved now for fear of setting off the worst literary fire since Julius Caesar. He picked up the book on the top of the pile, huffing at the fact it was The Library Book by Susan Orlean. He held it up and gestured to it for emphasis, making the woman laugh at his antics.
"I know how fire works." She promised him and then pointed the scanner at him. "But I also know how you work. You on fire in this library is safer for the books than it is Wing trying to find the bathroom." There was a loud commotion from her headset. "No, I'm never letting you live that down. You managed to destroy 6 shelves!" She made a motion with her hand as if Dick was talking her ear off and Jason grinned all the while. "The bathroom is right by the front door! No, we didn't move it! B doesn't give us enough money to move the bathroom whenever we want!" She paused and then sighed and rubbed her eyes. "...no, please don't donate money for that."
Jason listened to her argue with the bats as he put the last few books on the top of the trolley away. He could tell by her inflection who she was talking to in the moment even if she never addressed them by name. The rest of the books had to go to the section on her opposite side and so he pushed the cart over to take a break and lean on the front desk. He watched her for a moment longer and finally she got enough free time again to turn and face him. "You really trust me and my wings?" He asked without lifting his head from his hand it was resting on.
Babs squinted at him for just a moment like the question was funny before leaning forward as well on the stack of books in front of her. "Give me a reason why I wouldn't."
"I decapitated people?"
"People aren't books and I know you value books over them." She shot back, only half-joking and she was right. "Besides, you wouldn't do that to me. I'd have to replace all of these donations."
"What if it's an accident?"
"You'd snuff it out in seconds." She argued again and she was right yet again. The only times he let a fire burn when it was an accident was because he didn't notice it until it was too late. The price of having fire wings was that you got used to the smell of fire pretty quickly and so it took you a while to notice when it wasn't where it was supposed to be. She pushed back with her wheelchair then and pulled a bucket of crafts out from under her desk. She dumped the contents out haphazardly and then turned towards the bathroom with it in her lap. "I'll even fill up an emergency bucket just in case." He watched her go, hearing her bicker a few more times in the echo of the bathroom with all of the ones patrolling and when she returned she saddled up beside him with the bucket. "Tadah."
Jason looked between her and the bucket and knew she wasn't going to let this go until he did it. So, he did it. His wings unfurled and he was careful as he stretched them out, making sure they stayed well above the displays of new releases nearby and curling them back close when he felt the crick in his back go away. She beamed at him and was clearly going to go back behind the desk but he stopped her. "I'll only keep them out if you do something for me."
"I'm not letting you borrow Pride and Prejudice for a year again."
"Not that." Jason ignored the laughter clearly coming from Dick in her ear. "Turn off your comm." There was immediate protests and she hesitated for just a moment before reaching up and clicking the button off. "The recording too." She frowned now, clearly suspicious but she trusted him more than she was worried it seemed as she did that too. He then pushed one of his wings towards her. "Touch it."
Babs stared at the wing which was brighter than usual tonight even in the still lit library. He had been eating more between patrols and it was showing in his fire. The music behind them was something from BLACKPINK and it was thoroughly ruining the calm and collected persona he was trying to play. She lifted her hand, palm up as if she was trying to coax an animal to calm down and she didn't even look at Jason before taking a deep breath and connecting it to the closest feather. The flames washed over her for a brief moment, dancing across her arm but stopping short of anywhere near her flammable clothing and then settled to simply caress her hand as her eyes widened.
A smile slowly stretched across her features and she pet the wing just as she used to do when he was sat next to her working on the worst math problem to exist. The feeling made him want to close his eyes, sink back into that childhood moment of trust and comfort. He watched her hand instead as she straightened a misaligned feather towards the edge.
"Are you doing this?" She asked him finally but didn't draw her hand away.
"Not consciously," He admitted and shrugged his shoulder. "It's a thing with this type of bird I guess." He said it like a phoenix wasn't a marvel from myths and legends. "The flames won't hurt just anyone." He muttered the last part almost like a whisper but she heard it plain as day as her head shot up to look at him. Unlike Roy however, there was no journey of processing what he meant and she instead drew her hand back to rest at the wheel.
"I told you I could trust you in my library." She said and pulled away like nothing happened, turning her comms back on. "Okay I'm back-why do you automatically assume it was something dirty? We all know he isn't like that. He'd sooner make me try a new recipe than flirt with me!"
"Sorry Babs," Jason told her as he started to push away the cart for its new destination. "Don't like redheads! It's like looking in a mirror!"
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3. Dick
Jason glared at the thug under his boot, wanting to add more force to his step but he knew better than to let the rage inside of him take over. He let out a sigh and felt a sharp twinge go up his spine. He could feel all of the grit and gravel between his feathers, unable to burn it away without extra heat that would melt everything around them. He itched to holster his guns and preen but he he hid a grimace behind his mask as he looked over his shoulder at Dick nearby. The older man was at the mouth of the alleyway, helping a few civies make it to the awaiting ambulance. He didn't linger around long either as the cops were sending him nervous glances and he quickly flew up to the nearest roof despite the ache. It wasn't long before Dick joined him, having to somewhat hop up with his own short wings instead.
"How's your back?" Dick asked as they started walking on the rooftops to get away from the scene. He had arrived on scene the moment Jason had gotten thrown into the brick wall and into the oil puddle below. He spun around Jason as they walked, eyeing up his wings as if he's trying to see the gravel. There's a frown on his face like he spied something wrong, probably the broken feather that was driving Jason mad with every step. "Oof, you're going to have to wash that when you get home."
A shower sounded amazing right now, he wasn't going to lie. He had modified it for his wings despite the cramped size of the bathroom and he could get most of his wings inside as long as he didn't spread them out too far. He would usually clean each wing first and then clean his body afterwards. It was going to be a long rest of the night and a long walk home, since flying wasn't practical when heading to a safehouse. His neighbors weren't snitches but you were better safe than sorry in Gotham.
He was lost in his thoughts about how tired he was so he wasn't exactly paying attention to his surroundings. Not enough to be unworthy of the title of paranoid bat but enough that Dick could do what he did next. He was thinking about the hot water when suddenly there was gentle fingers in his feathers and he froze mid-step as it registered what was going on. Dick took his stopping as permission to continue and he could feel the man smiling as he started to straighten some of the feathers. There had been zero hesitation in his movements, going right from talking about the wash to what he was doing now. His short wings were flapping happily in a hyperactive buzz and he gently nudged Jason towards the center of the roof in an invitation to sit.
Jason turned his head to stare at him, bewildered but Dick's face even behind the mask was full of hope and excitement. It had been years since his older brother preened him, a nightly ritual between them right before Dick was off-world and Jason had died. It had been there way of bonding over Dick's angsty teenage rebellion and finally forgiving Jason at the last second for being Robin when he didn't offer it. It was a strange peace between them and it was Dick who taught him the perfect way to get those tricky feathers right along his spine.
So Jason doesn't really think about it, he moves on autopilot as he slowly sits down on the roof where Dick wanted him and let the man work his magic. Dick got right in there, still showing zero indication that he was afraid of the fire nipping at his fireproof suit and he started making trills and chirps every other movement just like when they were kids. Jason struggled to find the noises buried deep in himself to reply back, as phoenixes weren't like the everyday birds that constantly made noise but instead only really ever screeched or sang during intense emotions. He finally remembered his old jay calls and returned one just as Dick found that annoying broken feather and pulled it free, letting it fade into ash on the wind away from them.
All the while the comms were blowing up in their ears.
"Oh my god what's all that?! I can't even hear myself think!"
"Welcome to bird life, Spoiler. This happens. I'll turn down their volume hang on."
"Hn. Been a while."
"Oh god please turn them down, they're going to get me going and I'm trying not to get seen!"
"How's that volume?"
"Better, thanks."
Jason listened to Stephanie ask a few questions, unused to it despite having dated Tim and one of the only Robins without wings herself. It was just him, Dick, Tim, and Damian with wings and only a few knew what came with them. On the line right now even only Babs and Bruce had ever heard how the 2 of them got when they preened. Babs used to tease them about it, calling them her favorite white noise. A sentiment that Alfred echoed whenever he passed by them in the halls.
He reached up, gently removing his comm from his ear to drown out everything else but that trilling behind him and he muted it a moment later. Dick watched him do it before mimicking the motion as a sign of trust and leaned forward to hug Jason from behind. He didn't even flinch as the giant fiery wings wrapped around him like a protective shield, hugging him back. Jason leaned into the hug and felt himself relaxing furthermore due to how good his wings felt.
"Not afraid of being burned, goldie?"
"Of course not." Dick said with conviction. "Why, want to?"
"Nah." Jason hummed and shook his head. "Couldn't even if I tried."
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4. Tim+Damian
Jason flew through the busted skylight with a stray thought about how sick Gotham must be of bats destroying their windows. He parted his lips in a sharp violent screech, the sound ethereal in the dark as the sharp glow of his wings burned green and he landed with a thud amidst the crowd of dark clothed goons. They had all frozen at his noise and now they stared in stunned silence as he stood and he knew his eyes were glowing the same color as his wings as he rattled out a hiss. At least 4 of the goons dropped their weapons and turned and ran but the rest merely tensed unwilling to let go of their potential payday. Someone dared to fire and he jumped through the rain of bullets that followed feeling them dissolve before they can hit his wings from the sheer heat he's giving off.
He weaved through the crowd, smacking down anyone in his way, shooting others in the hips and thighs, and he's focused on his goal in front of him. Across the room and ducked down behind the bar of the lounge was the 2 youngest of the flock, Tim and Damian. Tim was holding a flare gun and his utility belt was clearly almost empty and Damian was clutched to his broken katana. There was familiar feathers scattered around and blood showing both boys had been injured and Bruce and Dick were still 15 minutes out from the location.
He reached the area with bullets still following him, blasting the alcohol bottles above them and raining glass down on the boys. Jason leapt over the bar and landed between the boys, lifting his wings over them and protecting them from anymore bullets in their direction. Tim quickly shot the flare gun towards the alcohol on the floor and the bar ignited, quickly creating a barrier now between them and their enemy. An action he only did now that the phoenix who could walk through the fire was here.
With the moment to let their guard down, Jason quickly ran his gaze over both robins. Tim was panting, out of breath, and curling his one wing around himself like a security blanket. His other wing was limp and bleeding and twitching occasionally with every ragged breath he took. There was blood dribbling down his face and staining the white of his mask. Damian was fairing better with both wings intact but the feathers ruffled in stress and he's got bruises blossoming on his face with a ton of close calls scratched through his suit. His one leg is bleeding as much as Tim's wing but he's forcing himself to rest on it so he can be prepared to fight.
The sight of them makes Jason's brain roar with anger and the green almost completely overtakes his vision as the flames on his wings climb higher and higher. They catch on the remaining alcohol that hasn't ignited and the walls quickly erupt into the same green tinged fire. The smoke starts to fill the area and the remaining goons know they now they don't stand a chance so they start running for shelter.
"Calm down Hood!" Damian snaps at him only then. "We don't have our masks! You're going to kill us too!" His tone sounds less worried and more pained, as if the leg is finally starting to bother him.
"Don't piss him off." Tim grumbled quietly, too quiet. The quietness of it makes Jason bristle with worry the little bird is on the brink of death but when he looks down Tim just looks tired. He teen pushed himself slowly up into a proper sitting position, cringing as he peels his wing off the floor. He tries to stand, sways, and nearly falls into Jason who quickly braces him. "Fuck but we do have to get out of here." He looked up at the rising smoke catching the skylight. "I'm not flying." He patted himself down. "I don't have my grapple."
Jason huffed. "I'll carry you, replacement."
"I'll climb, focus on Robin."
"I can still fly you brainless moron. Don't become a liability."
"You're not flying like that." Tim motioned to Damian's still fluffed wings, showing the boy was still stressed. "You're going to panic."
"I am trained! I will not panic!" Damian moved to stand, trembling on his leg, and his wings snapped open but they shook just as bad. His face was paling slightly and it looked like the shock was going to start setting in. He moved as if to jump into the air but Jason reached out and grabbed him around his middle, holding him limp against his side. He took a moment to protest what just happened and then the angry sharp chirps started. Jason did the same with Tim at his other side, careful of his busted wing. He looked to the skylight, still filled with smoke and he gave little warning before his own wings snapped open.
Tim and Damian both yelled in shock at the speed he moved, from the ground to the roof in the mere blink of an eye and then to another roof far enough away from the fire as he gently set the birds down. Damian sat back off of his leg, sirens in the distance almost drowning out his heavy breathing and Tim practically melted against the roof for a moment. The 2 of them sat there quietly collecting themselves and then they chirped. Tim's was always more of a caw, deep and unusual for his body type but Damian's was shrill and almost grating on the ears. The sound they both made was one Jason knew well, the same cry he had called when the Joker had finally left him to die. The sound of a bird trying to find themselves after danger took over their entire being.
They're safe now and they're robins, they know they'll recover. They know it's part of their jo and they know Batman will be here soon but they're still scared. So Jason doesn't think about it, he reaches out with his still slightly green flaming wings and he wraps one around each boy and shields them from the world.
They both flinch, both tense, they stare at him like he's lost his mind but he keeps his face turned to the sky for any sign of the rest of their flock. He doesn't acknowledge what he's doing and that leaves them to process the warmth washing over their bodies. Tim looks back down at the wing, hands ghosting over the green flames as they slowly melt back into orange. Damian is frozen in place until that regular color returns and only then does he dare to reach out and touch the feather. Slowly their noises die and Damian's feathers begin to flatten and they breathe with a sense of trust and safety.
Jason sits there with the robins under his wings until Batman's shadow can be seen in the distance. Only then does he draw his wings away, ignoring the longing chirps that follow and he moves away from them to show the big guy he isn't a danger. Bruce lands and Dick follows a moment later, both of them rushing to check on the boys before they even assess the entire scene.
"Are you burnt?" Bruce asks already pulling out the burn cream from his belt and Jason tenses but Tim shakes his head slowly.
"No...Jason protected us." All eyes turn back to him, a teasing coo coming out of Dick. Jason quickly turns away and gestures at the burning building. He spreads his wings, the largest wingspan of all of the birds here.
"I'm going to see if any of those idiots are still around." He doesn't wait for any confirmation or further comments before he takes off through the smoke.
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5. Alfred
He stared at his fridge and then glanced back over his shoulder at the untouched alarm system and booby traps. He then looked back inside at the full stock that wasn't there when he fell asleep. The shelves were overflowing, although neat, and there was meals he could toss in the microwave labeled with a best by date and what the contents were. Jason knew what Alfred cooking looked like but he wasn't sure how the man managed to deliver an entire buffet worth of food in the dead of night from across Gotham.
He grabbed one of the containers, rolling his eyes and popping it into the microwave beside him. He leans on the counter, slowly expanding his wings till the tips almost brush the walls. He tilts them up and then down and flaps them once, sending a sudden warmth through the safehouse without a need for an actual heater. The sensation makes his eyes drift close briefly with the allure of giving up on dinner to sit in his bed. He somewhat missed the king size beds Bruce had in the manor with plenty of blankets to create makeshift nests. Before he was adopted he had never made one and after he made one for every room he spent time in longer than a few minutes. He could remember the day Bruce tripped over the nests Dick and him had made in the den and the hilarious noise he made as he nearly ate it into the hardwood.
Alfred would only clean up the nests with their permission and a new rule eventually was established that they could only have 3 large nests outside of their rooms at a time. Jason chose the most obvious spots such as the library and the den but also put one in the large kitchen pantry so he could rest near Alfred while he worked. Dick had placed his in the weirdest places and made them a challenge to be removed (like the chandelier in the foyer). It took a while for them to convince Bruce to construct a rain proof one on the roof for clear nights away from patrol and let them enjoy the wind through their wings.
The microwave suddenly beeped and he'd never admit that he jumped, quickly opening it and thankful he couldn't burn himself on the hot plate. It smelled amazing and he didn't waste any time in digging in, half of it gone by the time he actually took a moment to breathe. The taste of the delicious food and his memories gives him an overwhelming sense of missing his old home and his wings twitch with the need to fly out to the manor. He stares down at the food and then the nearby clock and lets out a low groan as his brain starts to reason with all of his excuses to not go. He's not a stranger to birdbrain but he's going to finish his food first.
After shoving the rest in his mouth, he quickly changed out of his vigilante getup and snuffed out his flames for the journey over. He took the alleyways and hid around the corners, trying to remain inconspicuous until he was far enough away to fly. At least at night in the richer neighborhoods they never had a reason to look up and he was able to easily land on the manor roof without being spotted. He looked over at the hutch there for the nest underneath before he slid off the edge of the manor and used his wings to slow his descent down into the garden. He could hear the soft beeping of the security system registering who he was and letting him sneak towards the kitchen door. He picked the lock, stepping inside and glancing this way and that to make sure no one was sitting at the island.
He closed the door quietly behind himself before he let his wings re-ignite into a flurry of flames with a content sigh. Almost all of his instincts instantly relaxed in the presence of the familiar space save for the one that still braced for any fight with Bruce. Which is also the sense that made him flare up when the light flicked on and he looked up to see a robe wearing Alfred in the doorway.
Alfred was giving him the signature Alfred look but at least he wasn't holding a shotgun. "Hey Alfie."
"Good morning, Master Jason. Perhaps in the future you would visit during normal functioning hours?"
"Hey it's only 4 in the morning! Everyone just got back from patrol I bet. It's practically normal hours for all of us."
Alfred sighed and shook his head, venturing further into the kitchen and going for the kettle. "Have you eaten, my dear boy?"
"Yeah had one of yours before I left."
"Was it enough?"
Jason tilted his head in confusion at the question and Alfred looked back at him with a knowing look. "Feeding flames." He explained simply and then glanced to Jason's wings. He started the water up, pulling the tea container from the shelf above his head. "I can only imagine how much energy you burn flying and fighting." He grabbed 2 mugs then, one with a distinct Wonder Woman theme to it. He turned down the whistle to keep from disturbing anyone in the manor as he worked. "Perhaps you could finally indulge me and allow me a DNA sample to figure out your dietary requirements."
"I'm fine." Jason promised despite the flutter in his chest as the instincts in flared up at the idea of flock providing for flock. He took his seat at the island before he could gravitate towards the old man and do something embarrassing. It wasn't long before tea was slid towards him, perfect in every way like he liked, and Alfred sat beside him a moment later with his own. Alfred didn't press but Jason could feel all of the disbelief rolling off of him. Jason focused on taking a sip instead to distract himself from that feeling.
He blinked and a plate of cut up fruit was in front of him. He groaned audibly. "Alfred, I'm fine. I'm not starving myself." Despite that he reached forward to snag a piece of apple. He ate it while looking Alfred dead in the eyes. The older man chuckled and shook his head.
"Indulge me, it is a grandparents job to feed his grandchildren after all."
Jason ducked his head down, normally finding that amusing but in the moment he felt his face heat up and his wings mimic the emotion with a sudden flare. So rarely did his miss this place but Alfred was always a key part in why. He never had grandparents before he came here and while Alfred still too often put up the front of being just a butler he still wouldn't hesitate to call themselves family.
An elbow brushed against the wing closest to Alfred and Jason tensed up for a moment, despite knowing better he feared the worst. He saw Alfred's head turn to the side to see what he touched, the scent of the slightly singed robe lifting into the air. There was an awkward silence before the man sipped at his tea and then set down the mug. It looked like Alfred was about to push the stool over a bit to give Jason more space but Jason lifted up his wing to reach out and draw the man closer. He watched as Alfred's posture straightened his back, all prim and proper, and then looked back at Jason. It was a look that questioned his intent just for a moment as though he was making sure this was what Jason wanted. Only then when he saw what he needed to did he nod and relax back into the warmth of the wing.
"Positively stunning." Alfred remarked as he watched the flames. "Don't repeat this, Master Jason, but I've always fancied your wings the most." He smiled when Jason looked to him in surprise. "Quite the sight to see in the early mornings. A spark of hyperactive blue darting past or the warm glow of a homespun fireplace."
"...I figured you of all people would hate them."
"How so?" A hand reached out, fingers dancing along the edge of the fire before sinking into the welcoming flames and combing through the feathers with practiced ease. Alfred knew how each and every one of the boys liked to handle their wings and he still remembered Jason's despite all these years. "Do they bother you?"
"They're just a reminder I died." Jason tells him honestly, the tea in his mug bubbling from the sudden heat of his hands but he doesn't burn Alfred. He could never burn Alfred. Alfred watched him, a frown on his lips and then he shook his head.
"No, they're proof you came back to us." Alfred then leaned into his side, against the base of his wing and rested his head on Jason's shoulder. "And I could ask for nothing more."
--------------owo--------------
+1. Bruce
Jason hadn't been paying attention. The fight had ended, it had been over for what felt like an hour now and the police had gathered up everyone they needed to. The sun was threatening to peek through the clouds overhead and the bats were winding down, taking it casual with Commissioner Gordon as they gave each side of their stories. It had been one hell of a bust and something that would do wonders for Gotham for how much was seized and now in the hands of the law. Even the corrupt officers wouldn't dare touch this in exchange for money. So they were all standing around, shooting the shit, and Jason had let his wing fire die down to its normal levels.
Then before anyone could react, even before Bruce had spotted it and yelled and tried to save him, pain erupted through his left wing, side, and arm. Blood splattered to the ground as the bullet went in to what he could only assume was some part of his stomach but all Jason could think about was the pain in his wing. The feeling of blood seeping through as the fire began to flicker out and his vision doubled up. He heard the sound of laughter, felt someone clawing into his beautiful blue wings and yanking, and screaming at him that he'll never fly again. Jason can't breathe, all he can do is give a pleading defenseless chirp for his father to come save him. He hits the asphalt under him and he hears everyone scrambling around him, he hears his brothers split up with half to take out the shooter and half to get others to safety and that leaves him with strong arms tucking under his back and legs. That leaves him with a gruff voice calling for Agent A to prepare a cot.
Jason is tucked into the front seat of the batmobile a moment later, a hand briefly leaving him then returning to keep pressure on the wound in his body. He keeps chirp and squawking, growing louder by the moment as the pain just seemed to intensify and he swears he can hear his father promising him he's safe but that can't be. Bruce can make as many promises as he wants but Jason knows how this story goes, he knows he never flies his pretty blue wings again and he knows the burning searing pain of the explosion and then the burning searing pain of his own wings. He hears a chirp at some point, a calming call, a reminder that flock is nearby and he chirps back to beg them to help him to not leave him alone again.
It doesn't take long before he's carried once more and he's set on a cold concrete-no a table?-he doesn't know but he still hears the laughter and he keeps calling for his dad. He keeps calling until someone warns him about something and then suddenly he's fading away. It's not like the explosion, it doesn't come with a countdown and fire but he feels just like how he floated. Floated until he woke up burning and crawling out of his coffin and screeching into the night air for his lost wings.
Jason floats until he wakes up and he wakes up in fire once more.
He prepares for the pain but it never comes. He flails to fight off the Joker but the laughter isn't there anymore. There's a shrill beeping sound that reminds him of a smoke alarm and there's hands on him but they're not pulling at his wings they're holding him in what feels like a hug. It takes what feels like forever before Jason can finally make sense of his surroundings and he's in Bruce's arms. An overwhelming sense of relief hits him like a truck and he relaxes to the mimicked chirps his father keeps making as he holds him and rocks him back and forth just like he used to do on bad nights. Jason gives in to it all, rests his head on the man's chest and lets himself be coddled for a bit. He lived through hell and back, nearly died, he deserved a little bit of it.
Bruce lets him for as long as he likes with fingers brushing through his hair and continued chirps. Now he alternates between flock reminders and a little song that Dick loved to sing when he was making cereal. He holds Jason until Jason's heartbeat finally settles and he can push himself up to look around the area. They're in the cave, by the medical bay and sat in a chair Bruce had put there ages ago when Dick was still young. It's an old rocking chair with the softest cushions in the world and it's perfect for little boys who can't sleep alone after a rough night of patrol. Bruce would usually fall asleep with them there with them right in his lap and Alfred would come by with their favorite blanket to tuck them all in.
"I didn't die...?" Is the first thing Jason asked but his voice is slurred and raspy and Bruce offers him some water from a strawed cup. He holds it with both hands, keeping his head resting on Bruce's chest.
"You lost a lot of blood but you're going to be okay...Tim wants you to know he almost borrowed your spleen." Jason snorted into his drink at the words. He closes his eyes for a moment, almost falling back asleep right then and there but a sudden smell assaults his nose when all of his other senses calm down. He knows that smell, he gets it often in his line of work. It's the smell of burnt flesh and fabric.
He opens his eyes back up to look around for the source of it but they're the only 2 in the room currently. He sniffs himself but there's only the hint of cigarettes, ash, and his own sweat. Figured, despite being the element of fire itself, Jason still sweats. He looked over at Bruce then, to ask where the smell was coming from, and then that's when he sees it. Bruce's hand is open and rest on the chair arm but his palms are inflamed like he had grabbed a pot off the stove. He looks at Bruce's shirt to find it singed and riddled with holes. He looks at the man's pants and they're in a similar state. Everywhere he looks there's some sign that Bruce had just been involved fighting a fire and that's also when Jason notices the pattern of the burns.
He jolts back, out of the man's lap in a hurry. He nearly falls over from the sudden sharp pain of moving too fast on a healing injury but Bruce is already up on his feet to brace him. He yanks his arms out of the man's grip and Bruce holds up his hands in a placating motion. "Okay, I won't touch you. You're okay. I won't hurt you."
Jason feels his blood boil at the words. "What the fuck are you going on about?!" He demands despite how rough his voice still sounds, the water was spilled on the floor and useless. He gestured to Bruce and scowled. "I'm the one who hurt you, dumbass! You're covered in burns!"
Bruce looks down at himself as if he just now noticed the pain he's probably in. He frowned and looked back up at Jason. "They're just first degree burns, it's okay."
"It's not okay! You saved my life and I fucking burned you!"
"You didn't do it on purpose-"
"Does that matter?!"
"...I could've protected myself." Bruce admits then and Jason's frown only deepens. The older man gestures to the equipment nearby on the table and there's fireproof mitts and blankets and all the stuff you need to keep a phoenix from destroying everything around you. Jason stares at it, confused on why it looks untouched and when he looks back to Bruce with a questioning gaze his father frowns. "You started panicking when you woke up. I prioritized you over getting myself some safety gear." It sounds stupid, especially for the paranoid Batman to say it. Bruce has this look on his face like it was the obvious solution, like going for the gear would've been the dumbest thing he's ever done.
He reaches out again, though he doesn't touch Jason he just offers out the want to do so. Jason takes a step back, further away from it and further from causing more damage. "Stop. I'm going to burn you worse."
"No you won't," Bruce tells him with such certainty.
"I already did!"
"You were panicking."
"Stop saying it like it's an excuse! You never excused my violence before why are you doing it now?!" Jason has to lean on the cot behind him, eventually pulling himself up onto it to spare his body. He's reckless but he's not stupid and he'll probably need the bandaging or stitches redone with all of what he's just pulled. "I'm admitting I fucked up for once, Bruce! Can't you just fucking accept it and hate me for it?! Go back to looking at me like I'm a monster and-"
A hand touches his wing and Jason freezes in place.
Bruce is touching his wing, his flames, he's pressing his palm flat in the thick of it as it shifts between green and its signature red and orange. He holds it there without so much as an eye twitch as the flames snag at his already tender burns in warning. He doesn't show any sign of pain but Jason can smell the burning. "Stop!" He pleads but he doesn't move himself away. He wants to go back to the touch, to the lap he was just in. He wants to rest after all these years of fighting. "Stop..."
"You aren't hurting me, Jason."
"I am! I can smell it!"
Bruce draws his hand back enough, off of the feathers but still within range for the flames to wrap around his hand and he shows Jason his palm. The first degree burns are still visible on it but there's no blackening skin like Jason imagined. There's no new marks and the smell of burning flesh is fading into an afterthought. Jason stares at it before he looks up at Bruce and Bruce is smiling at him.
"You'd never hurt me." He says, despite all the evidence to the contrary and Jason reaches out with a shaking hand to grab that burnt shirt and draw the man close again. Bruce lets him bury his face into his chest, just as he was before, and his hand returns to Jason's hand in a slow soft motion.
"I know, because I love you."