[Bruce didn't spy on his kids in the same way that Jason didn't spy on his siblings. Honestly, having a few stalker tendencies seems to be a pre-requisite in this family. It was what made them all so incredibly tight knit...and also what caused the most drama.
Granted, Jason could very easily take the blame for quite a bit of that drama.
He also had some of Damian's art up on his wall, right along side a photo that had to have been taken by Tim during his patrol. A shadow box displayed his League weapons as well as the Batarang that had carved so neatly through his throat. Morbid? Maybe.
But no more morbid than the case he knew was in the Cave.
On the couch, Jason finally stirred, the drawing up of the blanket pulling a small, wounded sound from his throat. There was a rasping sound as cloth dragged against bandages and a keen eye might notice the bit of red that was already staining the blanket. It wasn't a lot, yet. But assuming he'd texted upon arriving back at his apartment from patching himself up, it wasn't the best sign.]
[ Bruce could have slipped away. It certainly would have been easier, give Bruce some time to figure out what he wanted to say when Jason asked him questions. But he doesn't. For some reason - maybe it's the blood on the blanket - Bruce just steps back so there's a bit of room to move between them. ]
You should have come to the Cave. You need antibiotics.
[ He's not mad. But he's using his Batman voice, partly out of concern, partly as way to feel like he's got some kind of control over the situation. People usually listened when a hulking wall of muscle spoke like that. ]
[Unfortunately for Bruce, Jason had spent a considerable few of his formative years with that voice in his ear. He didn't really qualify as 'people' anymore. Probably for a lot of reasons besides just that one, to be honest.
What that voice did accomplish, however, was to chase away the sleepy confusion on Jason's face. He'd woken up to find his father over him and he'd been confused, but quiet. Just that question of a name. Then Batman spoke instead of his father and his lips tightened and his eyes closed and when they reopened, a wall that had been down was firmly back in place.]
I got antibiotics. I'm not stupid, B. 'Sides, it's not like I still have codes to get in and I probably would have bled out while I was breaking in.
[So, he'd done the next best thing: broken into one of Bruce's safehouses.
He hurt, but laying on the couch while Batman loomed over him made him feel vulnerable in all the wrong ways, so he grunted as he pushed himself up to at least be sitting. The blanket fell away, exposing the long bandage that was taped over his side. It also happened to expose the thick, Y shaped scar that bisected his entire torso.]
[ Bruce remembers a time when Jason first returned that Alfred told him: "He needs Bruce Wayne's help. Not Batman trying to fight him." Often, the line between the two gets blurred. Batman helping is Bruce Wayne helping. It was just more often than not that Batman's reach was longer. Able to stop with one hand and offering the other to help pick yourself up again.
The bloody blanket, the bandage, and the wall that's between them now reminds him there are better ways to express his concern. Jason is not Robin anymore, expected to fall in line, to follow orders and never question them. To be a good soldier. Right now, though, Jason wasn't a soldier. He was Bruce's son and Bruce needed to remember that too. ]
What happened?
[ His voice softens, though not enough that the Batman mask is off. He asks to clarify, to figure out if this is something he needs to be concerned about. If it's put Jason in such a bad way, he's concerned regardless. But he needed to know if his night was about to get even longer. ]
[Alfred had always been the wisest of all of them. The gentle butler's guiding hand could be seen on all their shoulders from time to time and Jason had always beamed under it.
Now, he just missed the man with his whole damned heart.
Exhausted just from sitting up, the younger man let himself take a moment to breath through the pain before he bothered answering. Bruce could be patient or he could fuck right off, Jason didn't much care. Eventually, he looked back up and waved a hand to dismiss the concern.
(Though, he was a little pleased by the 'what happened' instead of an automatic 'what did you do'.) ]
Some idiots down at the docks trying to bring through an assload of weapons. I dealt with them.
[A pause and he huffed a self-deprecative chuckle.]
I didn't kill them, don't worry. They were flunkies at best. They're cooling their heels in lock up.
If you're going to break into my apartment, can you get me a glass of water? The jug in the fridge, not tap.
[ Jason bust wasn't the first of its kind this week. Bruce and Tim had stopped a similar shipment not Just a few days prior. It raised certain questions and Bruce wondered if they might have a turf war on their hands if they did not shut it down.
But, that would have to wait.
Jason had asked for water while Bruce was working through the possible implications of two gun busts in the same week. He checks the fridge and the cabinets for a glass and comes back to Jason a moment later. ]
Well you did break into my safe house. I'd say we're even.
[ It's meant to be lighthearted; he doesn't begrudge Jason taking whatever he needed from the safe house. Supplies could be restocked. ]
I wanted to check on you. Make sure you didn't need anything else. Like painkillers.
[A holiday gang war. Festive and very Gotham. Too bad Jason was going to have to sit the rest of the party out if his stiff movements were a sign. Maybe he had some notes he'd be willing to share....if Bruce could be human enough to ask for them like he was a person and not one of his little toy soldiers. Red Hood might not be a Bat, but he still understood the importance of keeping meticulous notes.
The hard part came in trying to get him to share.
Taking the glass from Bruce, Jason did his best to ignore how the water in the glass sloshed with his shakes, leaning a little so that he didn't accidentally get his bandage wet as he drained half the glass in three long pulls.]
I'm good with Tylenol. If I'd needed anything else, I would have just stolen it from you.
[He flashed a cheeky, lopsided grin, for a split second looking so much like the young man he should have been before the exhaustion crept back into his eyes and the expression fell.
He'd never been one for strong narcotics. Watching the woman he called his mother waste away needle by needle had made him wary of trying such things for himself. Now that he was older, his best friend was a recovering addict as well, so he'd just gotten used to never having anything stronger than over the counter meds. It was amazing what one could do with sheer force of will.]
I figured you'd cut patrol short tonight. Be at the manor with everyone else. Try to teach the Demon child all about the power of love and holiday cheer. Does Dick still try to get everyone to sing carols?
[ For the most part, the night had been a quiet one. A few break ins and an attempted mugging. Nothing that'd require Batman to be out for longer than a couple of hours. Jason had been an impromptu stop, but it wasn't out of the way. Bruce could do another pass and turn in for the night and to spend time with the others without it taking much time at all.
But plans changed it would seem.
If something big was going down, it needed to be investigated and stopped before it got out of hand. That meant hunting down someone he figured would have a hand in a brewing gang war. Oswald Cobblepot. ]
But I'm going to look into those guns first. Do you have anything you need to tell me? [ Ask like a normal person? Nailed it. ]
[Oh, he recognized that set in those broad shoulders. Going home early wasn't gunna happen now. Jason rolled his eyes, considering for several long moment to just give Bats his information and go back to sleep.
What did he care if Bruce slept through Christmas again? None of those idiots were his problem anymore. It wasn't like he was going to benefit from trying to talk sense into their dad.
Except....Damian deserved to have a Christmas. A real one.
Sighing softly, he reached up to gently rub at a bruise that was rapidly darkening on his cheekbone.]
No. Go home, Bruce. Be with them. I ate a grenade in the middle of their operation tonight, they're not gunna be up and moving again for a while. Give yourself 24 fucking hours to be a human father, then I'll send you my info and you can take the whole goddamned flock hunting. I'll even let you travel through my territory without getting pissy about it. [Mostly because he was probably still going to be unconscious, but whatever.]
Twenty-four hours, Bruce. Give them 24 hours of your attention. They need you.
[ Honestly, Bruce should have seen that coming. The silence that followed after he asked Jason for information seemed too long to be anything but a refusal. And it was fine; he knew how to get information out of people. Jason's intel would just save him some time.
But the conversation goes in a direction he wasn't expecting. Go home where he was needed. Give his kids 24 hours. In 24 hours, Cobblepot could be in Bludhaven and Gotham could be on fire. Or maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it would be fine and tomorrow night he could get right back to being consumed by his mission.
What a choice. ]
I'll have Alfred bring you some food. [ Other than that, he made no promises. ]
[What a choice, indeed. Go back out into the night to face a man who may or may not be involved with the weapon trafficking...or go home to a house of people who loved him. Some of which had traveled to make it, even.
Bruce wasn't the only one who split his time between family and the mission.]
Yeah, that sounds about right.
[No promises, no discussion of logic. Just an idea in his head and full throttle ahead. 'What did you do?' instead of 'What happened?', followed by two months of pretending like nothing had happened while stonewalling him from basic human interaction. It was very on brand.]
Whatever. Reset the locks on your way out.
[He was angry and hurt for people who didn't even like him (and maybe for that boy who still ached in his heart), but he was beaten and bruised and all that emotion was making his head throb...so instead of standing up and lashing out, he carefully laid himself back down and pulled the blanket back up.]
[ Gotham needed him. It didn't stop needing him just because it was a holiday. Or that his son deserved his attention. Bruce was such a shining example of that. He shouldn't have to be Gotham's self-styled hero. He should be with his family on Christmas Eve, with his parents and his children. But he didn't have the life he deserved. People so rarely got that. They got the one they were dealt and they have to learn to live within the confines of it.
That didn't make it right. But there was nothing he could do about it. Damian would understand. He'd been trained to understand. ]
If you change your mind about that intel, you know how to reach me.
[ There's no goodbye, but there is a sense of finality in the way Bruce speaks. He turns to go out the way he came in, resetting the locks as he was asked. In the car, he calls Alfred and asks him to prepare a plate of food for Jason. He'd by later to pick it up. He had a stop to make first. ]
[Jason, who wasn't even glancing in Bruce's direction anymore. He was too busy schmoozing his way through the younger crowd of socialites. Chances were less that anyone would have found him on a specific street corner once upon a million years ago.
Less, but never zero. It was one of the reasons Jason hated these events.]
What? You gunna take me over your knee, old man? You know, for a man who regularly puts people in the hospital, you are all bark and no bite when it comes to literally anything else.
You never knew when to stop. That isn’t how I’m going to punish you for your insubordination.
[ he’s being baited. He knows it. When anyone looks at him, he seems to be having a highbrow conversation with a few other men. Laughing easily at their (probably) raunchy jokes. But every so often his eyes track Jason across the room ]
[His little smirk down at his phone was the first honest expression he'd had on his face all night. But then the phone was getting tucked back into his jacket and his mask of polite engagement was firmly back in place as his arm was taken to draw him over to a new group of people to be 'introduced' to.
And Bruce would have no problem seeing the sudden tension in his shoulders and back.]
Those are some pretty ballsy words for a man who'll never act on a single damned one of them.
Get me out of this group before I pluck out his tonsils with a canape toothpick.
[The 'him' in question was probably the man who'd settled his hand on Jay's arm and was all but trying to herd him away from the rest of the group. He even made a 'playful' grab for Jay's phone before Jay managed to slid it back into his pocket.]
[ Bruce puts his phone away and after a moment, quietly excuses himself from the group he's joined. In a few long strides, he weaves his way through the crowd. Says 'later' to someone catching his arm to speak to him. When he reaches Jason, he touches his back, placing it just high enough that no one would think anything of it.
Jason might think something of it, though. ]
Hope I'm not interrupting. [ He smiles at Jason. ] Can you slip away for a minute?
[The tension in his back was bow tight when Bruce's hand settled against him, a small hitch as Jason sucked in a sharp breath that Bruce was probably the only one to notice. He half turned, intentionally pulling himself further away from the man holding his arm and putting himself closer to Bruce.
The man tried to hide his scowl behind his whiskey sour and Jason relaxed the moment that the only hand on him was Bruce's.]
Of course. I was about to say my goodnights anyway. [He turned back to the others, fake smile firmly in place as he raised his hand in a little jaunty salute before letting Bruce lead him away.
He didn't shake off Bruce's hand. In fact, he leaned back against a little.]
[ His hand stayed in place as they walked away, but Bruce's smile did not. It faded as the crowds thin and they eventually found themselves - well not quite alone but decidedly away from prying eyes. Thankfully, Bruce knew how to navigate in the shadows. They would not be noticed here.
As for Jason, Bruce pressed him back against the wall nearby. ]
You have been challenging me all night. I do not appreciate it.
[And for as much as Jason had been sassing all night, he let himself be lead away from the main ballroom and it's colorful occupants. He didn't put up a single bit of fuss, not even as he was turned and his back pressed tightly against a wall.
In fact, he looked outright contrite as he looked the scant few inches up at the other man. His gaze flicked once over Bruce's shoulder to gauge the trustworthiness of the door that separated them from the others...and then he was reaching up to cup the larger man's jaw in one gun calloused hand.]
I have been. However shall I make it up to you?
[He leaned forward as he spoke, mingling their air before brushing his lips against Bruce's....and promptly sinking his teeth into the other man's lower lip.]
[ It's almost tender how Jason touched him. If Bruce didn't know better, didn't know this boy would just as soon punch him across the jaw than caress it, he might have fallen for it. But they are who they are and Bruce was well aware he was treading into something deceptively calm.
He's nearly there to close that sliver of space between them, to turn that brushing of lips into something substantial when Jason sank his teeth into Bruce's lip. The pain of it was brief as Bruce planted a hand against Jason's neck, loose but firm to push him back.
For a moment, it seemed as if he would say something. But he licked the blood from his lip instead then pulled himself in close for another hungry kiss. ]
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From Memes
Jason breaks into Bruce's safehouse after a job gone wrong
An injured Bruce needs a distraction
A Post-It note conversation
A tipping point between the past long dead and the future just within grasp
Fucking doesn't mean getting along
Another party, another flirting session
Jay goads Bruce into leaving work early to come fuck his throat
A drunk and wounded Jay sends some salacious texts and Bruce comes to check on him
Bruce sacrifices himself for a civilian and Jay helps him clean up
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[Bruce didn't spy on his kids in the same way that Jason didn't spy on his siblings. Honestly, having a few stalker tendencies seems to be a pre-requisite in this family. It was what made them all so incredibly tight knit...and also what caused the most drama.
Granted, Jason could very easily take the blame for quite a bit of that drama.
He also had some of Damian's art up on his wall, right along side a photo that had to have been taken by Tim during his patrol. A shadow box displayed his League weapons as well as the Batarang that had carved so neatly through his throat. Morbid? Maybe.
But no more morbid than the case he knew was in the Cave.
On the couch, Jason finally stirred, the drawing up of the blanket pulling a small, wounded sound from his throat. There was a rasping sound as cloth dragged against bandages and a keen eye might notice the bit of red that was already staining the blanket. It wasn't a lot, yet. But assuming he'd texted upon arriving back at his apartment from patching himself up, it wasn't the best sign.]
B?
[Oops. He was awake.]
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You should have come to the Cave. You need antibiotics.
[ He's not mad. But he's using his Batman voice, partly out of concern, partly as way to feel like he's got some kind of control over the situation. People usually listened when a hulking wall of muscle spoke like that. ]
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What that voice did accomplish, however, was to chase away the sleepy confusion on Jason's face. He'd woken up to find his father over him and he'd been confused, but quiet. Just that question of a name. Then Batman spoke instead of his father and his lips tightened and his eyes closed and when they reopened, a wall that had been down was firmly back in place.]
I got antibiotics. I'm not stupid, B. 'Sides, it's not like I still have codes to get in and I probably would have bled out while I was breaking in.
[So, he'd done the next best thing: broken into one of Bruce's safehouses.
He hurt, but laying on the couch while Batman loomed over him made him feel vulnerable in all the wrong ways, so he grunted as he pushed himself up to at least be sitting. The blanket fell away, exposing the long bandage that was taped over his side. It also happened to expose the thick, Y shaped scar that bisected his entire torso.]
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The bloody blanket, the bandage, and the wall that's between them now reminds him there are better ways to express his concern. Jason is not Robin anymore, expected to fall in line, to follow orders and never question them. To be a good soldier. Right now, though, Jason wasn't a soldier. He was Bruce's son and Bruce needed to remember that too. ]
What happened?
[ His voice softens, though not enough that the Batman mask is off. He asks to clarify, to figure out if this is something he needs to be concerned about. If it's put Jason in such a bad way, he's concerned regardless. But he needed to know if his night was about to get even longer. ]
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Now, he just missed the man with his whole damned heart.
Exhausted just from sitting up, the younger man let himself take a moment to breath through the pain before he bothered answering. Bruce could be patient or he could fuck right off, Jason didn't much care. Eventually, he looked back up and waved a hand to dismiss the concern.
(Though, he was a little pleased by the 'what happened' instead of an automatic 'what did you do'.) ]
Some idiots down at the docks trying to bring through an assload of weapons. I dealt with them.
[A pause and he huffed a self-deprecative chuckle.]
I didn't kill them, don't worry. They were flunkies at best. They're cooling their heels in lock up.
If you're going to break into my apartment, can you get me a glass of water? The jug in the fridge, not tap.
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But, that would have to wait.
Jason had asked for water while Bruce was working through the possible implications of two gun busts in the same week. He checks the fridge and the cabinets for a glass and comes back to Jason a moment later. ]
Well you did break into my safe house. I'd say we're even.
[ It's meant to be lighthearted; he doesn't begrudge Jason taking whatever he needed from the safe house. Supplies could be restocked. ]
I wanted to check on you. Make sure you didn't need anything else. Like painkillers.
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The hard part came in trying to get him to share.
Taking the glass from Bruce, Jason did his best to ignore how the water in the glass sloshed with his shakes, leaning a little so that he didn't accidentally get his bandage wet as he drained half the glass in three long pulls.]
I'm good with Tylenol. If I'd needed anything else, I would have just stolen it from you.
[He flashed a cheeky, lopsided grin, for a split second looking so much like the young man he should have been before the exhaustion crept back into his eyes and the expression fell.
He'd never been one for strong narcotics. Watching the woman he called his mother waste away needle by needle had made him wary of trying such things for himself. Now that he was older, his best friend was a recovering addict as well, so he'd just gotten used to never having anything stronger than over the counter meds. It was amazing what one could do with sheer force of will.]
I figured you'd cut patrol short tonight. Be at the manor with everyone else. Try to teach the Demon child all about the power of love and holiday cheer. Does Dick still try to get everyone to sing carols?
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[ For the most part, the night had been a quiet one. A few break ins and an attempted mugging. Nothing that'd require Batman to be out for longer than a couple of hours. Jason had been an impromptu stop, but it wasn't out of the way. Bruce could do another pass and turn in for the night and to spend time with the others without it taking much time at all.
But plans changed it would seem.
If something big was going down, it needed to be investigated and stopped before it got out of hand. That meant hunting down someone he figured would have a hand in a brewing gang war. Oswald Cobblepot. ]
But I'm going to look into those guns first. Do you have anything you need to tell me? [ Ask like a normal person? Nailed it. ]
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What did he care if Bruce slept through Christmas again? None of those idiots were his problem anymore. It wasn't like he was going to benefit from trying to talk sense into their dad.
Except....Damian deserved to have a Christmas. A real one.
Sighing softly, he reached up to gently rub at a bruise that was rapidly darkening on his cheekbone.]
No. Go home, Bruce. Be with them. I ate a grenade in the middle of their operation tonight, they're not gunna be up and moving again for a while. Give yourself 24 fucking hours to be a human father, then I'll send you my info and you can take the whole goddamned flock hunting. I'll even let you travel through my territory without getting pissy about it. [Mostly because he was probably still going to be unconscious, but whatever.]
Twenty-four hours, Bruce. Give them 24 hours of your attention. They need you.
[I need you.]
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But the conversation goes in a direction he wasn't expecting. Go home where he was needed. Give his kids 24 hours. In 24 hours, Cobblepot could be in Bludhaven and Gotham could be on fire. Or maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it would be fine and tomorrow night he could get right back to being consumed by his mission.
What a choice. ]
I'll have Alfred bring you some food. [ Other than that, he made no promises. ]
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Bruce wasn't the only one who split his time between family and the mission.]
Yeah, that sounds about right.
[No promises, no discussion of logic. Just an idea in his head and full throttle ahead. 'What did you do?' instead of 'What happened?', followed by two months of pretending like nothing had happened while stonewalling him from basic human interaction. It was very on brand.]
Whatever. Reset the locks on your way out.
[He was angry and hurt for people who didn't even like him (and maybe for that boy who still ached in his heart), but he was beaten and bruised and all that emotion was making his head throb...so instead of standing up and lashing out, he carefully laid himself back down and pulled the blanket back up.]
bruce be a better dad challenge (impossible)
That didn't make it right. But there was nothing he could do about it. Damian would understand. He'd been trained to understand. ]
If you change your mind about that intel, you know how to reach me.
[ There's no goodbye, but there is a sense of finality in the way Bruce speaks. He turns to go out the way he came in, resetting the locks as he was asked. In the car, he calls Alfred and asks him to prepare a plate of food for Jason. He'd by later to pick it up. He had a stop to make first. ]
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Little Taste of Danger
[Jason, who wasn't even glancing in Bruce's direction anymore. He was too busy schmoozing his way through the younger crowd of socialites. Chances were less that anyone would have found him on a specific street corner once upon a million years ago.
Less, but never zero. It was one of the reasons Jason hated these events.]
What? You gunna take me over your knee, old man? You know, for a man who regularly puts people in the hospital, you are all bark and no bite when it comes to literally anything else.
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[ he’s being baited. He knows it. When anyone looks at him, he seems to be having a highbrow conversation with a few other men. Laughing easily at their (probably) raunchy jokes. But every so often his eyes track Jason across the room ]
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ohhh punish me? I'll believe it when I see it.
[His little smirk down at his phone was the first honest expression he'd had on his face all night. But then the phone was getting tucked back into his jacket and his mask of polite engagement was firmly back in place as his arm was taken to draw him over to a new group of people to be 'introduced' to.
And Bruce would have no problem seeing the sudden tension in his shoulders and back.]
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You seem nervous.
Or are you thinking about what I'm going to do to you?
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I just realized that this guy owes me fifty bucks, that's all.
[The tension stayed, though he did glance over his shoulder at Bruce as he reached out to snag another flute of champagne.]
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[ Bruce smirks when their gazes meet. ]
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Get me out of this group before I pluck out his tonsils with a canape toothpick.
[The 'him' in question was probably the man who'd settled his hand on Jay's arm and was all but trying to herd him away from the rest of the group. He even made a 'playful' grab for Jay's phone before Jay managed to slid it back into his pocket.]
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Jason might think something of it, though. ]
Hope I'm not interrupting. [ He smiles at Jason. ] Can you slip away for a minute?
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The man tried to hide his scowl behind his whiskey sour and Jason relaxed the moment that the only hand on him was Bruce's.]
Of course. I was about to say my goodnights anyway. [He turned back to the others, fake smile firmly in place as he raised his hand in a little jaunty salute before letting Bruce lead him away.
He didn't shake off Bruce's hand. In fact, he leaned back against a little.]
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As for Jason, Bruce pressed him back against the wall nearby. ]
You have been challenging me all night. I do not appreciate it.
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In fact, he looked outright contrite as he looked the scant few inches up at the other man. His gaze flicked once over Bruce's shoulder to gauge the trustworthiness of the door that separated them from the others...and then he was reaching up to cup the larger man's jaw in one gun calloused hand.]
I have been. However shall I make it up to you?
[He leaned forward as he spoke, mingling their air before brushing his lips against Bruce's....and promptly sinking his teeth into the other man's lower lip.]
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He's nearly there to close that sliver of space between them, to turn that brushing of lips into something substantial when Jason sank his teeth into Bruce's lip. The pain of it was brief as Bruce planted a hand against Jason's neck, loose but firm to push him back.
For a moment, it seemed as if he would say something. But he licked the blood from his lip instead then pulled himself in close for another hungry kiss. ]
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CW: Aftermath of child SA
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