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Just A Kid Like Me (Trying To Figure It Out)

Summary:

He spent all week after school with Ms. Lemoine. He spent hours every night doing worksheets, and going over them a dozen times. He checked all of his homework over, double checked it, then checked it one more time.

And it hadn't even mattered. The 'F' up in the corner, with Ms. Lemoine's 'We'll keep working on it!' as the final insult.

Notes:

Hey there, folks! Welcome to Whumptober!

Once again and as always, you have Processpending to thank for this. She helped me put my rambling thoughts into some semblance of order, and then beta'd everything for me, helped me set up the preview thing I posted yesterday, all with like... three weeks heads up.

The prompt for day 1 was 'Please Don't Cry'.

Work Text:

Jason stares down at the 'F' on his paper, and he feels the tears welling up in his eyes.

Which is stupid. It's stupid, and he knows it's stupid. Crying hasn't ever helped Jason, has only ever made everything worse, but…

He's only been here two goddamn months. Two months, and he's already screwing it all up. It's not…

He's trying. It's just that… well, he missed a lot of this shit after mom died, and he's trying to get caught up, but he's so far behind on it. And he's never been good at math to begin with, and now they're adding letters to it when he didn't even learn how to do all the shit with numbers.

But he's… He spent all week after school with Ms. Lemoine. He spent hours every night doing worksheets, and going over them a dozen times. He checked all of his homework over, double checked it, then checked it one more time.

And it hadn't even mattered. The 'F' up in the corner, with Ms. Lemoine's 'We'll keep working on it!' as the final insult.

Because he's put all this effort in… and it hadn't done anything. All this effort… and Ms. Lemoine just thought he should 'keep working on it'. As if he hasn't been busting his ass 'working on it', as if he's not trying.

And he can't hide it either; Bruce has some fancy phone app from Robinson Academy, where he can see all of Jason's grades, where Jason's teachers can message him whenever they want, where Bruce can message them back. So instead of one ass reaming when Jason's report card comes in, Bruce can just… He can just…

Jason angrily swipes the tears from his eyes. It doesn't matter. It doesn't. If Bruce is gonna kick him out for being an idiot, then… then it's better to just get it over with, right? Or if he's gonna take Robin away, not let Jason train anymore, well… Better now than before Jason spends a bunch of time training and exercising and running all those stupid drills.

If it were Dad… Jason would almost say he'd welcome an ass-kicking over getting kicked out, or having Robin taken away. But it's Bruce. And while Bruce hasn't punched him or even swatted him yet, Jason's not sure what will happen if Bruce does. The guy's fists are basically like… cinderblocks. Even a swat upside the head would probably send Jason flying.

Or maybe he'll do what Mom used to do. Sigh, shaking his head, and telling Jason that he knows Jason could do better, if Jason would just try. That Jason isn't stupid, he's just not trying.

Which would be so, so much goddamn worse, because Jason is trying harder at all this shit than he's ever tried at anything. And not just… not just because Jason wants to stay in the mansion, or have clean clothes, or food whenever he's hungry. Not just because he wants to keep sleeping in a bed instead of a box, and being able to shower whenever he wants.

Not even just because of Robin. Not just because Robin gives Jason a chance to do something with his life, to help people, to do something good.

But because Bruce and Alfred have been so goddamn nice. Alfred took him clothes shopping, and to get school supplies, then took him to a little bakery thing to get brownies and hot chocolate as a treat. Because Bruce hasn't yelled or screamed or hit him, even when he's screwed up.

He… he wants to stay. He wants to keep living here, with Bruce, and Alfred, and a bed and food. It's not like he's not trying, he is, but he's just… He's just stupid, no matter what Mom always said. Numbers have never made any sense to Jason, even when he was in school and trying to learn basic multiplication.

And now Bruce is gonna end up throwing him out, even though Jason is trying his best.

Jason's 'best' has never been good enough; figures that it isn't now either.

A knock on the door startles him so bad, he nearly jumps off the bed, the failed math test slipping from his hand onto the floor.

"Jay? You in there?" comes Bruce's voice from the other side of the door.

"Uh… yeah," Jason manages, even if it comes out kinda thick, from the snot clogging up his nose. Jesus, he needs to pull it together. Bruce has put up with him for two months, the least Jason can do is not sob like a whiny brat in front of the guy while Jason takes whatever's coming. He quickly grabs the paper off the ground, and tucks it under his pillow. Then he tries his best to scrub his eyes of any tears, before wiping his nose on sleeve.

It's not perfect, obviously; the 'World's Greatest Detective' is probably gonna be able to tell, but at least Jason isn't actively crying.

He waits a few seconds for his door to open, before he remembers Bruce's whole thing. The guy won't come in unless Jason invites him, says he's respecting Jason's 'boundaries'.

Jason has to fight down more tears at that. Christ, Bruce is such a good guy, and Jason can't even do basic math.

"You can uh… you can come in," he says, trying to make himself sound happy or cheerful or whatever.

Bruce pushes the door open, and Jason knows instantly: Bruce knows he was crying.

Luckily -thankfully- he doesn't mention it as he leans against the doorframe. "Hey, Jay. You got a minute to chat?"

Jason forces himself to nod around the lump in his throat. "Uh… yeah. Yeah, what's um… what's up? Is… is everything okay?"

He's learned, from years with his dad, and his two years on the streets: never assume 'they' know. Don't give 'em any ammunition to use when the firing squad lines up. Which is why he stays away from the bed, away from the failed math test under the pillow.

"I got a message from your teacher today," Bruce says, his voice casual. "She said -"

"I'm workin' on it," Jason interrupts. Because at this point, he's got nothing to lose. "I'm tryin' really hard, and I… I stayed after school all week, and I've been doing all my homework, and studying even after I do my homework."

"Jay, that's not -"

"And I'll keep workin' at it!" Jason keeps going, right over top of him. It may not help anything, but it sure as hell can't hurt. "It was just one test, and I won't let it happen again. I'll… I'll spend more time studyin', and I… I can stay after school later, maybe… Maybe I can talk to one of the smart kids, and have them help me during lunch!"

"Jason, it's alri-"

"I promise, I'll try harder! I will, it's not… I promise, I'm tryin', but I'll try harder, I'm not… It's… it's…" Jason feels his voice get stuck in his throat, as the tears finally start spilling over. "I'm sorry," he manages to rasp out.

"Jason… buddy," Bruce says, and his voice is so gentle, Jason feels like he might puke. "Please don't… Don't cry, Jay, it's not… I'm not angry, bud, I promise."

That's a lie. It's a lie, because Jason's stupid, and dumb, and he's never gonna be smart enough, or fast enough, or strong enough, or…

He's never gonna be good enough. He's just not.

"Jay, can I… can I give you a hug?"

And this is why Jason's an idiot. Because no matter how many times he gets burned, he keeps sticking his hand back in the fire. Before he can even think about it, before he can even make a choice, he feels himself nodding.

It's an effort not to flinch, or jerk away when he feels Bruce's massive, tree-trunk sized arms wrap around him. But then… Jason can't help it. He lets himself sink into the warmth, lets his head rest against Bruce's chest, as the tears he's been trying so hard to hold in start to run.

He wants to stay. He doesn't want to leave. It's not even that he just doesn't want to go back, it's that he actually likes it here.

"Jay… Buddy, it's alright. I'm not mad," Bruce says into Jason's hair. "Ms. Lemoine isn't mad. We just… We're trying to make sure you have all the support you need."

"I… I'm tryin', B," Jason manages to force out, even if it comes out muffled against Bruce's chest. "I promise, I… I'm tryin' really hard."

"I know you are, Jason," Bruce says, and his voice is soothing. "I know you are. You just need a little extra help to get you caught up to everyone else. It's nothing bad, and it's not… Nobody's saying you're not trying, Jay. I've seen how hard you're trying. We just… need to give you the proper tools to succeed."

Jason pulls back, wiping his face with his sleeves. "What's that mean?" he mumbles, fiddling with the cuff of the sleeve. It's wet and soggy and gross, but if he asks, Alfred will put it in the wash for him.

"Well… I'm looking into a tutor who can come over once or twice a week after school to help you get caught up," Bruce says quietly, taking a step back, and giving Jason some space. "And Ms. Lemoine is willing to have you take your study hall in her room, where she'll help you go over your homework from the night before. And… well, I'm not… Dick is the math genius in the family, but…"

Jason stares, almost in disbelief, as Bruce runs a hand down the back of his neck, looking… almost shy.

"I'm not too bad at math. I can help you out too, if… if you need it. You're more than welcome to just work with the tutor, and Ms. Lemoine if you want, but I'd always… I'd be more than willing to help you out if I can."

"I… like… with my… my homework?"

Jason tries so goddamn hard to keep the hope out of his voice at that. Because that's… that's too good, right? Too much to ask for, on top of everything else. To have…

He can't help but picture him and Bruce at the little table in the kitchen, Bruce helping him with his homework. Maybe Bruce having some of Alfred's cookies, like Jason does for an afterschool snack. And just… doing homework together. Like an actual family. Like all the families in those stupid sitcoms that are always playing on daytime TV, where the whole family gathers around the table and works on homework, Dad helping the kids, while Mom cooks dinner behind them.

And it doesn't matter that Bruce isn't his dad, and that Alfred definitely isn't his mom. It'll be the closest thing to normal Jason's ever had. And he can't…

"Of course, Jay," Bruce says, cutting through Jason's racing thoughts. "Like I said, I'm not a math whiz or anything, but I do pretty good. Unless you'd rather just work with Ms. Lemoine and the tutor, which is also fine, I don't -"

"No! No, that's… If you… I mean if you're not busy," Jason stresses. Because if Bruce is willing to get him a tutor, and get him help so that Jason can just… do basic math, Jason isn't going to put him out more by asking the guy to help Jason with it. "I can… I'll do better, and I don't… You don't have to. Unless you… if you want to, I would um… I wouldn't mind."

Bruce's real smile isn't anything like his Brucie smile. It's small, just like… the corners of his lips turning up a bit, and the end of his nose almost crinkling a little. But it's real, and he's smiling at Jason.

"I would love that, Jay. As long as you don't mind. And if you… you ever feel like it's too much, like you need a break, we can always slow down," Bruce says quietly, still smiling a bit. "I don't want you to burn yourself out."

"No. No, I can… I can do it. I will," Jason says firmly. "I… I got this, I'll… I can do it. I… I'll keep tryin', and I won't… I won't let you down."

"You couldn't let me down, Jay," Bruce says, giving Jason a look that makes him want to crawl under the bed and hide. It's… it's pride and fondness and faith and it makes Jason feel about ten inches tall. "I'm already so proud of you for all the steps you've taken to get here, without any help. Now that I know? I'll make sure you have all the tools you need to succeed. I'm already impressed by how much effort you've put in."

And Jason can't stop the weird feeling in his chest, the way his stomach kind of… flips almost at Bruce's words, as he feels his cheeks heating up. "I… yeah?"

"Absolutely, buddy," Bruce says immediately and confidently. "I'm proud of you. You've put so much work in already, all on your own initiative, Jay. That's… That's so impressive, I can't even begin to tell you."

Jason ducks his head, unable to look at the smile anymore, unable to see Bruce's sincerity.

"It's… it's not… I still failed," he mumbles, even as he cusses himself out for being an idiot. Because it's obvious Bruce either already knows, or just doesn't care, but… Jason needs to make sure. Needs to know before he lets himself get more invested in this.

But Bruce just… he just shrugs. "You'll do better next time. Now, c'mon; let's get downstairs and have some dinner, hmm? Alfred made double fudge brownies for after dinner, and I bet you I can eat more of them than you can."

It… it can't just be that easy, right? Bruce can't just… Jason glances up at Bruce, and… maybe it is just that easy. Bruce is giving him that little almost invisible smile still, and he doesn't look mad or angry, so…

"I um… yeah. Yeah, that's… That sounds good," Jason says, trying to sound confident. "And I can definitely eat more'n you can."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, Jay? Because I think we might need to ask Alfred to make another pan if it is."

"What? There's no way you can eat a whole pan of brownies, Bruce," Jason says, a bit incredulously. "Not right after dinner."

"Maybe you can't," Bruce says, shrugging as he turns towards the hallway.

And despite himself, Jason can't help but trail along behind him, falling into step. "You're gonna puke, and Alfred is gonna be pissed," he says, not sure if the idea is humorous or terrifying. "Especially if you puke on the table."

"Guess we'll just have to find out, won't we?"

Jason can't help it. He laughs a little, the idea of Alfred pulling out disappointed grandpa voice on Bruce, while Bruce is fighting off a stomach ache from eating a pan full of brownies.

"Yeah. Guess we will."

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