Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All their most outlandish missions inevitably involved magic and madmen.

"Another day, another secret lab," Artemis muttered, looking around at the basement under the farm building they'd broken into. They were in pursuit of a man calling himself the Harvester, a name that appeared innocuous until the moment that one learned he was calling himself that because he was harvesting organs from corpses dug up from cemeteries and using magic to regenerate them.

The Harvester was then selling the replenished organs on the black market. They would decay again within days, as most magic of that nature did, and so the Harvester was leaving a trail of fresh corpses behind, giving himself a constantly renewing source of bodies to harvest from.

Returning to harvest from those who'd been killed by his actions had been how Red Hood had tracked him down in the end.  

"Secret lab under a barn." Red Hood leaned forward and tapped at one of the specimen jars on a shelf. The liquid inside was green and bubbling. "I'd like to say that this was a first for me."

Artemis grimaced. "I have a bad feeling about this place."

Bizarro stood in the center of the room, arms folded and frowning. He kept sending the large vats distrustful looks.

The sound of a lock turning was their only warning before a door on the other side of the room was thrown open and a man stumbled through. He froze, blinking at them in shock and staring down the barrel of the gun Red Hood had raised.

"Don't move." Red Hood clicked the safety off. "Trust me, I can shoot this gun a lot faster than you can cast a spell."

The sound of crashing glass came from behind them. Artemis whirled around.

The same man was standing on the opposite side of the room. Bizarro scratched the back of his head, watching the newcomer. Artemis quickly glanced behind her.

Red Hood had not turned away from the first man, but as Artemis watched, he shimmered at the edges and then the magic illusion shattered.

At the same time, the other one did the same. The lights went out, leaving only the eerie glow of the bubbling vats to see by.

Laughter echoed through the lab.

"Great." Red Hood slid his gun away in its holster, glancing around. "I hate creepy laughter."

Artemis tensed. In such a confined space, with liquids of such dubious composition, she did not wish to cause damage to their surroundings. They would need to tread carefully.

A light flared on the edge of her vision.

"Move!"

Hands shoved her and she stumbled, snarling a growl back at Red Hood as she tripped over the leg of a lab table and fell to the ground, catching her weight on her hands.

Red Hood dodged the light, which hit the vat of liquid behind him and shattered it, drenching him in a thick red concoction that looked eerily like blood.

Bizarro yelled, thrown back by a second strike of yellow light. He hit the back wall and slumped to the ground. Artemis climbed to her feet, frowning.

"Fuck." Red Hood started to shake, teeth chattering. "A-Artemis. Bizarro's not good with m-magic."

Of course. Bizarro had all of Superman's weaknesses as well as his strengths. Her fingertips tingled as she called for her axe.

When the Harvester appeared above Bizarro, hands glowing with the light magic, Artemis spun and threw the axe. The Harvester didn't get more than a choked bark of laughter out. He looked down at the axe embedded through his chest, expression going from shocked to the blankness of death.

"You couldn't have k-knocked him out?" Red Hood asked. He had slid to the floor and was curled there, arms around himself and shivering violently.

Artemis moved to the body and jerked her axe free of it, before turning to arch an eyebrow at the little one. "You care?"

"He still had info I wanted." Red Hood shuddered, jerking his helmet off and tossing it aside. "Fuck."

Bizarro climbed to his feet, shaking his head. "Bizarro feel weird."

"You'll recover." Artemis knocked her shoulder into his as she walked by to Jason's side. She knelt next to him and felt his forehead. His skin was unnaturally hot to the touch, beading with sweat and ashen grey. "We need to get you into a shower and wash this off. This isn't right."

Jason gave a jerky nod. His jaw was clenched tight. Artemis wasn't sure if it was in pain or to stop the chattering.

Bizarro knelt on his other side, running one hand up the little one's back. "Me carry?"

Artemis nodded. "It'll be faster. Take him straight back to the motel and get him in the shower. Burn the clothes after."

With a nod and a tight smile, Bizarro gathered Jason up into his arms and then sped away, faster than Artemis' eyes could track.

Artemis gave one look around the room and clicked her tongue. She wanted to set it alight and watch it burn, but if there was something wrong with Jason that a shower couldn't fix then they might need to return. She glanced over at the dead body.

That, at least, she could dispose of.

***

The hotel was a small, worn little place just outside the rural town in southern Georgia that Jason had whisked them away to, once he’d discovered the location of the Harvester. It was quiet, remote, and the owners didn’t ask questions—everything that Jason looked for in a temporary safe house. Artemis closed and locked the door behind her. The television was still blaring away in the middle of the room, drawing her eye. The bright, scrolling banner at the bottom told her that nothing had changed since they’d left on their hunt, and why Jason cared so much about a breakout in Gotham, Artemis had yet to puzzle out.

“Bizarro?” She couldn’t hear the sound of the shower running, but with the volume of the television that wasn’t entirely surprising. Hunting through the couch cushions revealed the remote and she shut the television off, leaving the motel room in silence.

The shower was definitely not running, and a quick look around the tiny main room and kitchen showed no sign of either of her teammates. Frowning, Artemis knocked twice on the bathroom door. “I’m coming in, don’t bother pretending to be modest.”

The door swung open easily and Artemis did a double-take, nearly crushing the doorknob in surprise. “Where did you get that ?”

Bizarro glanced away from the small child he had wrapped up in both a towel and his arms. “Red Her?”

Something like panic clawed up her throat as the small boy blinked wide, tearful blue eyes at her. Artemis released the doorknob and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a calming breath. “Bizarro, we have discussed this. Children are not strays to be taken off the street.”

“It Red Him,” Bizarro replied, sounding utterly confused. “Red Him shrunk in shower.”

She opened her mouth to reply, to say any number of scathing things about Bizarro’s poor timing in utilizing the sense of humor he was picking up from Jason, but then the child wriggled and gave a familiar little huff, and she looked at him again, closer this time. The coloring was certainly the same, and the boy wore a similar scowl, but it wasn’t until her eyes caught and held on the streak of white, just barely starting to regrow, that her throat closed up in horror.

Artemis clenched her teeth together, and she couldn’t believe she was thinking it but she suddenly wished she had not killed the Harvester.

They were completely out of their depth.

“How did this happen?” She backpedalled out of the bathroom as Bizarro moved towards her with the child—with Jason—held securely in his arms. The little one’s hair was still dripping from the shower, and Artemis couldn’t tell if the streaks down his cheeks were tears or just water. He followed her with his eyes as she moved to lean against the counter in the small kitchen, putting more space between them.

Bizarro carefully lowered the bundle of small child onto the couch, patting him on the head when the boy made a noise of protest and reached up for him. “Bizarro get Red Him blanket. Red Him wait with Red Her.”

The little one turned around and went back to staring at her with wide eyes while Bizarro went to the small closet tucked away in the back of the room behind the beds, returning within only a few moments with a light blue blanket.

Bizarro wrapped the little one snugly in the blanket, removing the damp towel and tossing it over the back of the couch.

Jason fisted his hands in the blanket and tugged it closer around him, turning to fix his little scowl on the damp towel.

“Has he spoken?” Artemis asked Bizarro, as he followed the little one’s unvoiced complaint and picked the towel up to put away properly.

Jason’s eyes snapped to her. “I can hear you, lady.”  

The offended annoyance was familiar, even if his higher voice was not. Artemis crossed her arms and eyed him. “How much do you remember?”

The boy shrugged, eyes darting towards the motel door and then Bizarro’s back as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you remember us?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life,” the little one said, eying her up and down. He sucked his lip into his mouth and started to chew on it for a moment. “You’re really tall.”

“I’m an Amazon,” she replied, crossing her arms and shifting back slightly against the counter.

Jason’s eyes widened. “Like Wonder Woman?”

Lips twitching, Artemis shook her head. “Better.”

“Do you even have a lasso?” Jason asked, scrunching his nose up and giving a little huff of breath.

Snorting, Artemis uncrossed her arms, extending one out. “I prefer my axe.” The magic gathered slowly, letting the little one’s attention catch on her hand before she summoned the battleaxe. She swung it in a careful arch.

Jason’s eyes were impressively wide. “Can I touch it?”

“No.” Artemis may not have been fond of small children but at the very least she knew not to hand them dangerous weapons.

“Please?”

She shook her head, dismissing the axe to remove the temptation and ensure the little one’s fingers remained out of reach. “You are too young to play with battleaxes.”

Jason heaved a dramatic sigh and flopped back against the couch. “Arty, come on.”

She startled, blinking at him in surprise. “You remember my name?”

“Lady, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“You just said my name.”

“I didn’t,” he insisted, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. He grumbled to himself.

Curious, Artemis knelt in front of the couch, closer to eye level. “Little one, what is my name?”

He frowned, peeking at her from behind his hand. “I just told you I don’t know.”

“Guess.”

For a long moment he simply stared at her, brows furrowed and lips turned out into a slight pout, before dropping his hand and tilting his head to one side. “Artemis,” he said finally, with a determined nod.

Something like relief blossomed in her chest. “That’s right.”

Bizarro reappeared, wet towel replaced with a clean bundle of Jason’s clothes. He placed them down on the couch next to the little one and shrugged. “Clothes not fit.”

Tiny hands darted immediately for the leather jacket on top of the pile. Jason pulled it close, hugging it to his chest. Artemis eyed the clothing. If the Harvester’s magic affected Jason the same way it had the organs he’d been selling on the black market, Jason would return to normal in a few days.

“He’s going to need new ones.” Artemis craned her neck to look up at Bizarro. “I trust you’re up to the task?”

Bizarro nodded. “Me like shopping.”

“Don’t go overboard.” Artemis stood and went to hunt down Jason’s stash of money.

***

For the time being Jason ended up wearing the jacket, one of his cotton shirts and a pair of boxers, all far too big but the best that could be managed. Artemis had handed Bizarro half the stash of cash that Jason had hidden in one pocket of his duffel bag, more than enough to get temporary clothes for the small child in their company.

Artemis left the little one on the couch while she showered and changed out of her armor. By the time she returned, the television was switched on and Jason was sitting on the floor in front of it, absorbed in watching the news reports on Gotham’s current crisis.

She sat down on the couch and started carding her hands through her damp hair, keeping one eye on the television. It didn’t seem inappropriate for a child of Jason’s size, and he clearly possessed some unconscious knowledge of his prior state. For the past several days Jason had been practically glued to the reports, even as he’d whisked them away to hunt down the Harvester and stopped taking his family’s phone calls.

“Little one.”

Jason turned around. He had the cuff of the jacket in his mouth and was chewing on it.

Artemis nodded to the television. “Must you?”

Jason’s eyes flicked to the hair she was still running her hands through. Abandoning the television, he scrambled up onto the couch beside her. He let the sleeve drop out of his mouth and offered the television remote clutched in his other hand. “Your hair is pretty.”

Freeing one hand from her hair, she took the remote and switched the television to another channel, then let the remote drop to the couch beside her. Jason’s eyes were fixed on her hair and his fingers were flexing like he wanted to touch.

“Thank you,” she said, arching a brow as he wriggled closer. “I need to braid it.”

“I can braid,” Jason said, finally reaching out and sinking his hands into the hair flowing loose down her shoulders. He glanced at her and when she did nothing to stop him turned back to her hair and started combing his fingers through it. “I braid Mom’s hair.”

Artemis watched him work away at her hair for a few moments before sighing and sectioning that part away and turning her own attention to the rest. “You don’t talk about your mother.”

Jason sucked in a breath, hands pausing in his task. “Mom’s dead.”

Her gaze snapped to him. Jason was back to chewing on his lip, brows drawn and nose scrunched up as he thought. Artemis grimaced, hoping he wasn’t about to start crying. “Your father is still alive.”

Snorting, Jason shook his head and grimaced. “Who cares? He’s useless.”

She smirked. “You think Batman is useless?”

“What?” Jason’s hands tightened on her hair, pulling it hard enough to be mildly uncomfortable. “Are you crazy, lady? Batman’s not my dad.”

Artemis hummed, not quite willing to pick at the issue. His memories seemed to be sensitive, buried things, and it was probably best not to disturb them—he would likely revert to normal by the end of the weekend at any rate.

She felt the slight tugging that meant he’d turned his attention back to her hair and left him to it, finishing her braid and tossing it over her shoulder. The section of hair she’d left to Jason, a decent chunk from behind her left ear, could be tied back with the rest when he was finished.

“Can you turn the news back on?” Jason asked quietly, so soft and hesitant that Artemis grabbed the remote and changed the channel back without a second thought. “Thank you.”

“Why you’re so engrossed by it, I don’t know.” Artemis sighed. Jason shrugged and continued working a loose braid into her hair. It wasn’t bad, considering his tiny little fingers. She probably wouldn’t even need to redo it.

A glance at the television screen revealed the status quo had not changed, the bright red words scrolling across the bottom of the screen the same as they’d been for several days: Escape at Arkham Asylum, Joker still at large.

The front door rattled. Artemis hooked an arm over the back of the couch and leaned over, watching as it swung open on squeaky hinges and Bizarro walked through, shopping bags hooked over his arms.

A lot of shopping bags.

Artemis shook her head. She should’ve known. “Did you buy every piece of clothing available in this town?”

“Stop moving,” Jason said, tugging on her hair. “I lost my place.”

“These clothes are for you.” Artemis reached over, stilling his hands. “Go get changed into something that fits you, little one.”

“I was helping.” The protest was accompanied by wide eyes that started to water.

Artemis cringed. “You can help after. My hair isn’t going anywhere.”

Bizarro moved over to the couch, piling the bags onto Jason’s lap until the child was half-buried and giggling. He grinned triumphantly at Artemis.

“Yes, yes,” Artemis muttered, extracting herself from the couch and retreating. “We all know you’re the best with children, Bizarro.”

“You got a lot of stuff.” Jason pushed some of the bags off his lap and over to the other side of the couch. “It must have cost a lot.”

“Not really,” Artemis replied. Jason seemed to possess an endless amount of what he termed ‘petty cash’, usually drug money or from another of his more dubious operations, appearing out of nowhere when he needed it. He’d yet to really even look twice at what they did with it.

The only time either of them had gotten a reaction had been when Bizarro had accidentally purchased a bakery, and the only part that he’d been concerned with was how in Hathor’s name it had been an accident.

When Jason pulled the red Wonder Woman hoodie out of the bag, Artemis rolled her eyes. She wasn’t the least bit surprised when it was one of the items that Jason gathered up to take into the bathroom to change.

It wasn’t until she was in the kitchen, holding a glass under the tap in the kitchen that she realized another important factor of childrearing. She grimaced, putting the glass down before bending and opening the refrigerator and looking inside. It was empty. “We need to feed him.”

Bizarro glanced over from where he was sorting the little one’s new clothing. “We take Red Him out?”

Artemis sighed, hanging her head. “Yes, it’s probably best.”

At the very least getting him outside would pry his attention away from the television for a short while.

***

Dressed in jeans and the Wonder Woman hoodie, Jason looked somehow even smaller than when bundled up in his old clothes. He looked like any other normal small child, and even possessed the same tendency to wander absently into traffic.

The third time he slipped away and Artemis nearly had a heart attack as he darted out in front of a car, she took him firmly by the wrist and refused to let go despite his endless complaints about it.

“I’m not a baby,” he said for the fifth time, pulling against her hold. “Let me go.”

“No,” Artemis replied. She glared down at him. “You have a severe lack of self-preservation instinct, and that hasn’t changed with age.”

He scowled, tugging his wrist again. “I’ll bite you.”

“Go ahead.” Artemis snorted. “We’ll see how much damage your little teeth can do to an Amazon.”

For a moment, as Jason subsided into silence and walked along at her side, she thought that might be the end of it. Then, heaving a sigh, the boy went limp, pooling to the ground in a sulk and refusing to move. Artemis stopped and stared down at him. She was strong enough to continue to pull him, and he likely knew that, but if she did she risked damaging his fragile body.

“You will regret this decision,” Artemis told him. She released his wrist, but before he could scramble to his feet and try running from her, she picked him up under the arms, propped him on her hip and started carrying him instead.

“No, Arty.” Small hands pushed at her grip around his waist. “This is humiliating.”

“This is your fault.” Artemis kept walking, ignoring Jason’s protests, Bizarro’s twitching lips and everything else around them.

By the time they had been through the store and were at the checkout counter, Jason had his face buried against her neck and was refusing all attempts at communication. He managed to pull his face away to pout at the woman behind the counter when she cooed at him in that annoying voice people used with children.

“Your son is adorable,” the old woman said, looking at Jason fondly.

Artemis stared blankly back. “He is a small, frustrating little monster and his outward appearance is a biological trick designed to prevent him from being abandoned after birth.”

Jason snickered. “That’s mean, Arty.”

“No one has ever accused me of being nice.” Artemis took their bags, ignoring the scandalized expression on the old woman’s face and left Bizarro behind to pacify her.

She could feel Jason’s hands at the back of her neck, delving into her hair. The child hooked his chin over her shoulder and settled, seemingly giving up his attempts to sulk his way into an escape.

“Me take bags,” Bizarro said, coming out of the shop behind them, holding his arms out.

Artemis tried to give him the child instead, but Bizarro just smiled widely and dodged around her, sliding the shopping bags off her free arm and hurrying off with them. “Bizarro!”

“Red Him comfortable,” Bizarro called back.

She craned her neck to get at the right angle to look at the little one’s face. His eyelids were fluttering, expression going lax as he dozed.

“Fine.” Artemis adjusted the boy against her hip and followed after Bizarro. “But you stop smirking at me like that, or I’ll knock you into the ground in our next spar.”

Bizarro laughed, clearly not even the least bit threatened, and continued racing away ahead until he disappeared from sight.

Artemis narrowed her eyes. She had been going far too easy on him.

“Are you gonna fight?” Jason’s head lifted off her shoulder and his eyes brightened. “I want to referee.”

“You are a terrible referee,” Artemis replied. “You indulge Bizarro far too much.”

“I don’t.” Jason pouted, kicking her in the thigh with one of his feet. “I’ve never met you before today.”

Artemis rolled her eyes and didn’t reply. She did not particularly want to set the little one’s mind on the track of wondering why it was he’d met them only today and yet apparently trusted them so much.

A distrustful Jason was not an experience she wanted to deal with, especially not at his current size.

“First you need to eat,” she said, ignoring his muttered grumblings. “Then, if you do not fall asleep, you can watch us spar.”

“I won’t fall asleep,” he said, wriggling again in an attempt to gain freedom. “Arty, come on!”

She put him back on his feet and took his hand. This time he glared up at her sullenly but walked at her side the rest of the way back to the motel, tugging free of her the minute they were within sight.

“Bizarro!” Jason burst through the door into the motel room and ran to their large teammate, who blinked down at him. “Kick her butt.”

Bizarro glanced up at her and bit his lip. “Red Her?”

“Feed the child.” Artemis walked to the couch and sat down, summoning her axe and examining it with a critical eye before settling in to clean it quite pointedly. “Then we will fight.”

Bizarro sighed, much less enthused now that she was no longer weighed down by a small boy and he was unable to flee her.

Artemis smirked to herself and listened absently as the little one prattled on.

***

Between one moment and the next, Artemis snapped awake. She tensed, glancing around the shadowed motel room, eyes catching on the television, muted but illuminating the room faintly. Jason sat on the floor in front of it, close enough that Artemis cringed in sympathy for the strain he was putting on his eyes.

“Little one, why are you awake?”

His head snapped around, staring at her with wide, tired eyes. He’d lasted halfway through the spar before becoming grumpy and irritable enough that Bizarro had seized on the opportunity to put him to bed.

He had the sleeve of his pajama top in his mouth and continued to chew away at it while staring at her. Finally, with a shrug, he turned back to the television and continued to stare at it.

Artemis sighed, sitting up on the couch. “Come here.”

Jason got up off the floor and clambered up onto the couch next to her. The sleeve wasn’t removed from his mouth and his eyes quickly found their way back to the television. Artemis gave the glowing box a dismissive look. No change in Gotham; she wondered what his family were even doing.

“You should be sleeping,” she told him, reaching out with one hand to gently remove the sleeve from his mouth. “Has something frightened you?”

Slowly, Jason nodded. “Monsters.”

Artemis hummed, looking around the small motel room. “You have me and Bizarro here, do you really think we’d let monsters get you?”

He hesitated, frowning, before slowly shaking his head. Even so, his eyes darted around the room before returning to the television.

Artemis tapped her fingers against her knee and thought back to small, frightened sisters in Bana-Mighdall, back in better days. “Shall we check the room?”

Jason looked up at her and nodded, this time with more enthusiasm.

“All right.” Artemis got to her feet, casting one glance at Bizarro and hoping he remained asleep. At least one of them should be well rested the next day. “We’ll start with the bathroom.”

Jason trailed behind her as she made a circuit of the small motel room, opening everything that could be opened, looking under everything that something could conceivably hide under. Halfway through the search he grabbed the loose pants she was wearing and clung to her leg.

By the time they were back on the couch, having discovered no trace of monsters in the motel room, he was visibly less anxious, but still seemed reluctant to go back to sleep.

“You are not satisfied.” Artemis watched as his eyes drifted to the television again. She had to resist the urge to switch it off, if only because total darkness was likely to scare him more. “Have I not sufficiently proven that there are no monsters in this motel room?”

Jason licked his lips and shrugged. The end of her braid was between them on the couch. He picked it up and fiddled with the end. “They’re only there when I close my eyes.”

“Those are the worst kind.” Artemis ran a hand over her face and resisted the urge to yawn. When she looked back at Jason, he had the end of her braid in his mouth and was chewing on it absently. She gently tugged it out. “Do you trust me to keep you safe from the monsters?”

He looked up at her, nodding with only the slightest hesitation.

Slipping off the couch, she knelt before him to better look him in the eye. “If I promise that I will kill any monster that tries to hurt you and bring you back its head as a trophy, will you be able to sleep?”

“Any monster?” Jason asked.

“Any,” she said, nodding. “Even the gods themselves should they dare.”

His nod this time was much more enthusiastic. Artemis got to her feet, nodding towards the bed that Jason had abandoned in his fear. “Then you should be fine to sleep now.”

Jason looked back over to the bed, wrinkling his nose. “I’m not sleepy yet. Arty, have you killed lots of monsters before?”

“Plenty,” she replied. “If you get in the bed, I’ll tell you about one of them.”

That had him scrambling eagerly off the couch and into the bed, wriggling under the covers and then fixing her with an expectant look. Her lips twitched into a smile and she rolled her eyes, sitting down next to him and leaning back against the wall. The little one pressed against her side and poked her.

“Story,” he said.

“Very well.” Artemis sighed, tilting her head back against the wall. “A long time ago, a very old and powerful sorceress came to Bana-Mighdall in disguise.”

“Was it Circe?”

Artemis frowned, glancing down at Jason. Of all the things for him to remember. “Yes, it was Circe. Shall I continue, or would you like to guess the rest of the story, too?”

Jason wriggled further under the covers. “Keep going.”

“Circe has always been fond of her chimeras,” Artemis said, continuing the story and watching as the little one’s eyelids fluttered closed. He was asleep before she was far past the beginning the story. A good enough thing, she supposed. As enthusiastic as he’d been, she hardly wanted to give him more nightmares of monsters to plague him.

“Rest, little one.” Artemis shifted more comfortably against the wall. “I will guard your sleep.”

***

Her best efforts made little difference. The little one’s sleep was stolen several more times throughout the night by nightmares, leaving him lethargic and irritable in turn by morning. Even leaving him to nap through the morning didn’t help. The light of day did not soothe away his troubled dreams.

Artemis had little to reassure him with. The magic causing his change of form would wear off within the next day or so, leaving the child to disappear as if he’d never been. Discussing the truth of his situation would hardly comfort him.

Jason migrated from the bed to the couch and stayed there the entire day, watching the news reports and drifting to sleep, only to jerk awake almost as soon as he’d settled into something restful.

Bizarro hovered over him, shooting Artemis concerned glances with ever increasing frequency, but she was at a loss. She knew very little about caring for a normal child, let alone one under such...circumstances.

“Watch him,” Artemis said once evening had fallen. She finished wrapping her arms and slid the guards on, tightening them until they were secure.

Bizarro nodded from his place on the couch beside the little one, who had clamped onto his side like a limpet and fought with him over ownership of the television remote.

“Where are you going?” Jason demanded, frowning at her.

“Nowhere you should concern yourself with.” She ignored his protests and left him with Bizarro, walking out the door and closing it firmly behind her. She could still hear his muffled, outraged complaints and the lower murmur of Bizarro soothing him.

Her armor was more conspicuous than the Man’s World clothing she possessed, but it made no difference in the low evening light. The town around her was quiet and the streets empty. Artemis took the same backroads they had originally taken when hunting the Harvester, back to the site of their confrontation with him.

The farm that hid the laboratory remained undisturbed. The Harvester had owned the property under his real name, and Jason’s digging had found no living relatives or friends.

Artemis stayed on high alert as she made her way down the secret entrance to the partially destroyed lab beneath the barn.

It was exactly as she’d left it. Blood still smeared the ground where the Harvester’s body had fallen, the only remaining evidence of his death at her hands.

She pursed her lips, staring at the dark stain.

It would not be long until Jason returned to normal, but she did not trust the unpredictable nature of magic, and the Harvester’s bubbling vats of liquid looked more like the science of Man’s World than the magic she was familiar with.

There was a tray of empty glass tubes on a nearby workbench. She picked one up and approached the broken vat that had shattered over Jason. The bottom was still filled with the eerie red liquid that had caused his current state. Artemis carefully filled the glass tube with liquid, sealing it with the small rubber stopper and tucking it away in one of the pouches at her waist.

Grimacing, she took one last look around before leaving again. She wanted to burn the entire thing to the ground and leave no trace, but until Jason was returned to normal she could not risk destroying something important.

The second he was returned to normal, she would let him blow the place up with his explosives.

Night had fully settled when she exited the barn. She was just beginning the walk back when she caught voices on the air. She tensed, ducking low to the ground. A few seconds later and the voices were clear enough for her to discern.

"Arty!"

She buried her face in her hands and heaved a deep sigh, before straightening to her feet and glaring at her teammates.

Bizarro was ambling towards her, sheepish smile affixed to his face, while the little one sat on his shoulders, kicking his feet and pointing in her direction.

"I said watch him, not let him talk you into an evening stroll." Artemis scowled at him. Bizarro's cheeks colored, standing out against his pale skin even in the darkness.

Jason looked unrepentant. "You didn't say where you were going. We were worried."

"We?" Artemis arched a brow. "I'm not an idiot, little one. I know you are the mastermind behind this."

"It's a walk, not a theft." Jason pouted. "I don't see what the big deal is."

Of course he didn't, and Artemis likely couldn't even explain it to him properly without terrifying him into more nightmares.

"We will return to the motel," she said, instead of arguing the point further. She strode past Bizarro and started towards the gate at the end of the dirt drive. She could hear Jason muttering to Bizarro under his breath. "If you even think of flying away, Bizarro, you will not like what I do in response."

"Me follow Red Her," Bizarro said to the little one, voice small and gratifyingly cowed.

Artemis smirked and continued leading the way.

It shouldn’t be long now until the little one returned to normal.

***

Another day came and went.

The Harvester’s magic had worn off the enchanted organs within two days, but Jason’s state remained unchanged.

His inability to sleep grew only worse. His disposition became dour to the point that attempting to take the remote control from him resulted in him biting her and then immediately bursting into tears.

“We are in over our heads,” Artemis said, as Jason utterly refused to calm down, even rejecting Bizarro’s comfort, leaving the large Kryptonian hovering over him and wringing his hands. “I am taking you straight back to Gotham.”

Jason choked on a sob, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head. “No!”

Before Artemis could even open her mouth to respond the little one was moving, leaping over the back of the couch and running for the front door. He managed to get the door swung open and had one foot outside when Bizarro appeared next to him and scooped him up into his arms. Jason struggled, but it was a futile endeavour when matched against Bizarro’s strength.

Bizarro closed the front door and carried the boy over to the couch where Artemis waited, arms crossed. Placing Jason gently down on the couch, Bizarro ran one hand through the little one’s hair. Jason flopped over, hiding his face against the couch cushions and very pointedly ignored them both.

“Little one?”

A very loud, exaggerated sniff was her only response.

Artemis rolled her eyes and left him to sulk on the couch, going straight to the front door to lock it properly. She turned around to find Bizarro sitting on the couch and lifting Jason into his lap, the little one back to sobbing with his arms flung around the Kryptonian’s neck.

“Red Him am sad,” Bizarro told her, brow pinched in obvious worry. He rubbed his hand up and down the little one’s back, but Jason continued to climb more and more towards hysterics. A particularly loud shriek had Bizarro wincing, pulling his ear away slightly.

“Shrieking like that is only going to hurt Bizarro,” Artemis said, to which Jason’s only response was to get even louder in his histrionics and start his chest heaving like he was having difficulty breathing.

“Red Her should not say that,” Bizarro said, proving his skill with children once more by willingly putting himself closer to the hysterical shrieking in order to coo comforting noises in Jason’s ear. “Red Him be okay, me promise.”

Feeling inadequate and with the pounding of a headache crawling its way across her temples, Artemis slipped away, grabbing Jason’s phone out of the charger it had been sitting in for the last few days and taking it with her.

Outside, she could barely hear the little one’s sobs. She took a deep, calming breath and unlocked the phone, scrolling through Jason’s contacts—not many, on this phone—until she found the right number. She stared at it for a moment before jabbing the call symbol with a sigh of resignation.

One ring.

Two.

“—you okay, little wing?”

Artemis clenched her jaw. “It’s Artemis.”

An audible inhalation. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“He is not—” Artemis licked her lips, grimacing “—injured.”

“Somehow, I am not filled with confidence.” There was the sound of tapping computer keys in the background.

Artemis stared up at the night sky while crickets chirped and Nightwing heaved a sigh that sounded both frustrated and worried.

“Where’s my brother, Artemis?”

Chapter Text

Artemis leaned her head back against the door to the motel room and tried to find the words she needed. If she strained her ears she could hear the faint sounds of Jason’s distress.

“Tell me.” Across the phone line, Nightwing made a frustrated noise. “He dropped off the face of the Earth and hasn’t been answering our calls.”

“We were working a case.” She didn’t know why she bothered defending the little one’s decision to suddenly shut out his family. It was just as much a mystery to her as it apparently was to them. “There was an...incident with a spell.”

“Artemis.”

“He is currently a small child, and he won’t stop crying.” Artemis sighed, closing her eyes. “It’s been three days.”

“Three days?” Nightwing swore colorfully. “I have your location. I’m on my way.”

“Just you,” Artemis said. “He is...he is already overwhelmed enough.”

A moment of silence across the line. Then: “All right.”

Artemis ended the call without another word.

Bizarro and Jason were in the same position when she returned to the room. Jason’s shoulders were still hitching with sobs, and Bizarro’s face was tensed and upset. She could see the tightness of his jaw that meant he was frustrated.

He glanced up as she came to stand by the couch. “Me can’t help.”

“You’re helping,” Artemis said. “He would be far worse off with only me for company.”

Bizarro’s lips pinched tighter, like he didn’t quite believe her.

Artemis clasped his shoulder and squeezed. “I have called the little one’s brother. We need the assistance.”

“Blue Him?” Bizarro asked, relaxing just a fraction. He glanced down at where Jason was curled in a miserable ball against him. “Red Him okay with that?”

“The little one does not get a say in the matter,” Artemis replied. “Not in that state.”

Bizarro looked down at Jason once again and curled even more protectively around him. "Red Him need sleep."

"More than just sleep," Artemis replied. "He needs to be returned to normal."

And she and Bizarro were no help with that. She wasn't sure if Jason's older brother would be able to do much with the liquid she had taken at the scene of the incident, but at the very least Nightwing was extremely well-connected. He could likely find the little one the help he needed to be returned to normal, and perhaps he could do it without even informing the rest of his obnoxious family.

Jason was going to throw enough of a fit about one brother seeing him in such a state, let alone the rest of them.

Even if he'd not disclosed his reasons with Artemis and Bizarro, something had prompted him to cut contact with his family, after all.

***

The knock against the motel door was brief and sharp.

Artemis glanced up from cleaning her sword, eyes finding Bizarro and Jason. It had taken over an hour for Jason to calm, eventually soothed to sleep by Bizarro. He'd predictably not stayed that way long, and now the two of them were watching the television, Jason curled into Bizarro's side and staring with dull, tired eyes at the screen. Artemis had grown uneasy with his fixation on the news reports, so they were watching a film of some kind, volume just a low murmur.

She got up to answer the door.

It was Nightwing on the other side, not in full costume, but certainly not in his civilian identity. He wore all black clothing and a thin pair of dark glasses. He tilted his head to look past her, likely seeking out his brother, but Jason was hidden behind Bizarro’s bulk and was not visible from the doorway.

Nightwing’s expression was tense and unhappy. “Where is he?”

Artemis nodded inside and let him into the motel room, leading the way over towards the couch. The second that they were able to see Jason, still curled up and clinging tight to Bizarro’s arm, Nightwing stopped moving, hissing in a sharp gasp. He stood stock-still, staring at Jason with wide eyes while his face twitched, some emotion bubbling underneath that Artemis could not name.

“Little wing,” he said softly, barely more than a whisper. He stepped forward, into Jason’s line of sight. “Jay.”

The little one looked up, hands curling tighter on Bizarro as he met his older brother’s eyes.

Nightwing crouched down in front of the couch, smiling softly at Jason. He slid the glasses off and dropped them on the low table in front of the couch. "Hey there, little wing. Recognize me?"

Jason remained attached to Bizarro's side like a limpet, staring back at Nightwing with wide eyes, the same way he had when he'd first seen Artemis and Bizarro. After a minute of silence, he slowly nodded and gave a soft, hesitant, "Hi."

Smile turning to a proper grin, Nightwing held his arms out. "Can I get a hug?"

Jason chewed on his lip before nodding, extracting his arms from around Bizarro and reaching out to his older brother. Nightwing gathered him up into his arms and stood, clutching the little one close and face twisting again into something like grief. Artemis turned her face away to give him privacy.

“I forgot you used to be so little,” Nightwing said, with a choked up laugh.

“I’m not little. I’m seven.”

This time the laughter was less weighed down. “You’re tiny, Jay.”

Artemis leaned back against the kitchen counter and felt the tension in her muscles uncoiling. Bizarro got off the couch and gave Jason’s head a pat before he came to stand in the cramped motel kitchen with Artemis.

Her eyes flicked to him. “Are you okay, Bizarro?”

“Me give space,” Bizarro replied. He shifted closer to her along the counter. “Me go shop?”

“You have a problem.” Nonetheless, Artemis dipped her fingers into her pocket and pulled out what remained of the stash of money and handed it over. “Be careful.”

He grinned at her and quietly slipped away. Hathor knew the little one did not like having Bizarro out of his sight for long.

The click of the front door closing behind Bizarro had Jason startling in his brother’s arms, head jerking towards the door. He scowled, wriggling to be let free. “Biz left!”

“Shopping,” Artemis replied, watching warily as Nightwing set Jason on his feet. She could not handle more tears.

Nightwing sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside him. “Jay, come sit with me?”

Jason bit his lip, eyes drifting between the couch and the door.

“Bizarro will be fine,” Artemis said.

“Go get him.” Jason pointed to the door and gave her an expectant look.

“I will do no such thing.” She pushed away from the counter and moved towards him as his face screwed up and went red. He didn’t protest as she grabbed him under the arms and lifted him up to look him straight in the eye. “You will not like what happens the next time you try to give me an order, little one.”

Jason poked his tongue out at her. “I’m not scared of you.”

She dropped him on the couch next to Nightwing, shaking her head. “No, you never have been.”

He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with one fist and shifting along the couch until he was pressed against Nightwing, who blinked down at him and ruffled his hair.

“He cannot sleep for long periods,” Artemis said, as Jason slumped against his brother and let his eyes drift shut. “He has nightmares.”

She was understating the extent of the problem, but Nightwing would discover it for himself soon enough. Jason might not be able to sleep well, but as the days dragged on he’d also lost the ability to stay awake either, as his body demanded rest.

Nightwing hooked his arm around Jason’s shoulder and held him close. The other hand he ran through the little one’s hair while watching him with a soft expression. He tore his eyes away from his brother and looked up at her. "Now, how the hell did this happen?"

Artemis breathed sharply through her nose. "Our latest work involved a magician."

"I'd gathered that," Nightwing said, with another glance down at the boy at his side.

"We located his base of operations and there was a fight." Artemis grimaced, thinking back to how ineffectual she’d been. An axe to the chest after the fact didn’t make up for her lack of vigilance in the initial engagement—especially considering the consequences of not having the Harvester around to interrogate. "Jason was hit with some kind of liquid the magician was working with."

"You have a sample?"

She nodded. "I went back for it, after."

"And the magician?"

She shrugged one shoulder and looked away. “His death was ill-timed.”

“Fantastic.” Nightwing sighed, mouth twisting down.

“It was my error,” Artemis replied. “I did not foresee that we would be needing his input any further.”

“Will we need to flee from the authorities any time soon?” Nightwing asked. Jason shifted in his sleep and Nightwing bent down and whispered in his brother’s ear until he settled again.

“The body has been disposed of. I have yet to destroy the evidence at the hideout.” Artemis went to collect the glass tube of liquid she had taken. “I collected a sample of the liquid Jason was doused with, but I do not know if there is anything else at the scene that may assist.”

“You can take me there,” Nightwing said. “After Bizarro is back to watch Jason.”

“He will not like being left behind.” Artemis tapped her fingers against her hip. “And Bizarro has fatal weaknesses for both children and the little one.”

“Maybe Jason will sleep through it.” Nightwing smiled down at the boy.

Artemis scoffed. “We’re more likely to return and discover that Bizarro has conquered a small country in the little one’s name.”

***

Jason remained asleep for nearly a full hour before jerking awake with a shout and spending the next fifteen minutes clinging to his brother and sobbing. He calmed eventually, but only after Artemis joined them on the couch so he could sit between them, fingers of one hand tangled in Nightwing’s shirt and the end of Artemis’ hair wrapped around the other.

When her hair made its inevitable return to his mouth, Artemis could only sigh and gently remove it.

The television remote was briefly fought over. Jason wanted to watch the news reports again. Nightwing looked alarmed at the very idea, and there was clearly something that Artemis was missing about the situation in Gotham and the little one’s fixation on it.

“I don’t want to watch this,” Jason said, turning his face away from the more benign program Nightwing had settled on. There were men on a grassy field kicking a ball around. Artemis didn’t want to watch it either, really.

“I’ll find something else for us to do, then.” Nightwing got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. The little one scowled up at him, a sulky curve to his shoulders. Nightwing ruffled his hair before wandering over to one of Jason’s duffel bags and starting to root through it.

“That’s my stuff!” Like a fired arrow, the little one was up and off the couch, flinging himself onto the bed and crawling over the bag, laying on top of it to protect it from Nightwing’s searching fingers. The attempt paused Nightwing briefly, before the fingers settled on either side of Jason’s ribs and started to tickle him.

Jason howled with laughter, just as painfully loud to Artemis’ ears as his shrieking, if less...distressing. She shook her head at their antics and settled back further on the couch.

“Stop it!” Jason slapped at Nightwing’s hands. He rolled himself right off the bed in his struggles, but was caught before he hit the ground, lifted up into his brother’s arms and cuddled close. Jason was resistant to Nightwing’s affection for all of a second before yawning and wrapping both his arms around his brother’s neck and tucking his head down against his shoulder.

Artemis lips twitched despite herself at the frankly charmed expression on Nightwing’s face. It was clear that Jason already had his brother just as tightly wound around his fingers as Bizarro.

Nightwing shifted Jason in his arms, freeing one of hands and reaching back into the duffel bag and fishing out one of the books that Jason always kept with him. He carried both Jason and the book over to the couch, grinning at Artemis.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s going to be even less pleased about you touching his things when he’s back to normal.”

Shrugging, Nightwing sat down with Jason curled up comfortably in his lap. He handed over the book, which Jason grabbed and opened, flipping through the pages. “I don’t know if it’s still your thing at the moment, Jay.”

“It’s my book,” Jason said, fingers tightening on it like Nightwing might attempt to take it away. “I can read it.”

Nightwing dropped a kiss on top of his brother’s head. “Okay, little wing.”

Despite a valiant and determined effort, Jason’s attention did not remain on his book for long. Artemis couldn’t tell if he was actually struggling with the book’s content, but the way he rubbed at his eyes and eventually gave an unhappy grumble and turned his face against his brother’s chest made her suspect it was the exhaustion. He did not let Nightwing pry the book away, keeping it hugged close against his chest.

“I can read to you if you want?” Nightwing asked, when Jason drew a shaky breath that heralded oncoming tears. “It’s okay, little wing.”

Thankfully, Jason was sufficiently distracted when the doorknob rattled and Bizarro entered the motel room, bags hanging from one arm. He grinned, a very slight flush rising to his cheeks when he caught sight of Artemis and the eyebrow she was arching at him.

“Bizzaro am back,” he said. He patted at one of the bags. “Have gift for Red Him.”

Jason sat up straight in Nightwing’s lap, head jerking around to fix wide eyes on Bizarro. The sheen of tears in his eyes replaced with curiosity. “For me? What is it?”

Bizarro grinned, bringing the bag over and crouching down in front of the couch. He reached into the bag and dug around for a moment before drawing his hand back out and presenting Jason with a small stuffed animal; a soft, fluffy yellow dog with floppy ears.

Jason reached out and took the toy. His book slid off his lap, grabbed quickly by Nightwing and set aside on the arm of the couch. Jason clutched the dog to his chest.

“His name is Sparky,” he said, with solemn reverence.

Now that Bizarro had returned, they could turn their attention back to the Harvester’s hideout and the secret lab. Getting the little one settled next to Bizarro on the couch was simple, for the child was eager to cuddle his new dog and talk to extensively to Bizarro about it.

Leaving without him was harder; Jason did not want any of them to leave his presence, but it was Nightwing he started to cling to with determination, something which seemed to bemuse his older brother. Jason kept one hand curled in Nightwing’s shirt and had to be pried away before they could leave, closing the motel door on Jason’s loud complaints and Bizarro’s attempts at soothing him.

Artemis was not shocked when, halfway down the back roads that led to the Harvester’s hideout, Nightwing swung around and glared off behind them.

“When I said ‘look after my little brother’ this is not what I meant.”

Bizarro poked his head around a tree and waved, a sheepish expression on his face. On his shoulders sat Jason, who scowled at Nightwing. He had one arm wrapped around his toy dog.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Jason slid off Bizarro’s shoulders and landed on the ground with a thump, running over to them and attaching himself to Nightwing’s side.

Nightwing sighed and swept the little one up off his feet. He pressed a kiss against Jason’s forehead and got hit in the face with the dog in return. “I just want you to stay safe, little wing. And safe means staying in the motel with Bizarro, okay?”

Jason pet his toy dog, as if soothing the hurts it may have received from colliding with Nightwing’s nose, and shook his head at his brother. “Nu-uh.”

“Nice argument,” Nightwing replied, shaking his head and grinning.

Artemis glared at Bizarro until he ambled up the road towards them, shuffling his feet and scratching the back of his head. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Me am sorry,” Bizarro replied. “Red Him was sad.”

“Let’s go,” Nightwing called, letting Jason slide back down to the ground and taking his hand. “I want this done so we can get out of here.”

“‘We’?” Artemis snorted, taking the lead again and setting a quick pace. Bizarro fell into step just behind and to her left, hunched over guiltily. She gave him a hard look. “You will keep the little one outside while I take Nightwing down to the lab and you will not let him talk you into anything.”

“Bizarro will,” he said, nodding firmly.

“I can hear you!”

She glanced back to see Jason attempting to run ahead, trying to pull free of his brother’s grip.

He gave a frustrated growl and glared up at Nightwing. “Dick, let go!”

“Names, little wing.” Despite the censure, Nightwing didn’t seem displeased; his whole face brightened instead.

“You’re not wearing a mask,” Jason replied, he tugged his arm again. “Let go or I’ll bite you.”

“I’ll give you the mask thing,” Nightwing said, tousling Jason’s hair. “But use Nightwing, okay? And I’m not letting you go, you shouldn’t even be here.”

“I’ll scream.” Jason sucked in a large breath. Artemis winced. How children could be so loud she didn’t know, but even the thought of his shrieking made her want to slam her hands over her ears. Jason gave a startled yelp as Nightwing grabbed him around the middle and tossed him over his shoulder. The air went out of him in a rush. He thumped his brother on the back with one hand. “Cheater.”

“That’s me,” Nightwing replied easily, catching up to Artemis and BIzarro. “We’re close?”

Artemis nodded. “It’s just up ahead.”

Nightwing hesitated briefly before passing Jason from his shoulder to Bizarro. He tapped the little one on the nose. “Be good.”

“I refuse,” Jason said. He gave an exaggerated sniff and looked up at Bizarro with tearful eyes. “Biz, please?”

Bizarro’s eyes went wide and he looked between Jason and Artemis, conflicted. “Red Her?”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “For Hathor’s sake.” She walked over so she could loom over the little one. “You will stay here with Bizarro and be good, or I will remove your dog.”

“You’re mean,” Jason told her, with hushed awe. His arms tightened around his dog and he pouted. “I don’t want to follow you anyway.”

“A fact which relieves me greatly,” Artemis muttered, turning on her heel and sweeping past Nightwing. His face was impassive but she swore his eyes were laughing.

Bizarro remained beyond the edge of the Harvester’s property. As Artemis led Nightwing towards the barn she looked back to see him leading the little one over to a nearby stream. She frowned. “Can he swim, at that age?”

Nightwing glanced back, watching for a moment, expression unreadable. “Not sure. He didn’t meet Batman for another few years.”

“Bizarro will keep him safe.” Artemis tore her eyes away and entered the barn, making her way to the passage to the underground lab. After a few moments she heard Nightwing’s footsteps against the wooden panelled floors.

She opened it up and then stood back, allowing Nightwing to descend ahead of her. “I haven’t touched anything.”

Nightwing hummed, glancing around. His gaze seemed to catch on the stain of blood, but he moved on soon enough without comment, approaching the shattered vat.

Artemis lingered in the entryway while he worked. After giving the room a thorough once-over he slid the sleeve of his black shirt up to reveal the gauntlet of his costume, opening a compartment along the side and sliding something free. He looked up, meeting her eyes. “You have anything to destroy this place when I’m done?”

She raised a brow. “Your brother has explosives hidden in his helmet. Our team is never lacking in them.”

Nightwing pulled a face, shaking his head and turning back to his work. “For fuck’s sake, Jason…”

Detective work, Artemis found, was something that Nightwing and Red Hood did in a fairly similar manner. It was uninteresting to observe no matter who was doing it. Artemis kept an ear out for Bizarro and Jason—she certainly didn’t trust Bizarro not to give in to childish demands—and tuned out whatever Nightwing was doing.

A rattling sound had her head jerking around. Nightwing was crouched by one of the workbenches, prying a drawer open. He pulled a thick book out from it, worn with loose pages poking out. He turned it over in his hands and then looked over at her.

“I’ve been over everything.” He stood, taking a long look around the room. “Let me grab a few more samples and then we can go.”

It went quickly after that. Before long they were emerging from the barn into the afternoon light. Off by the stream Jason had his pants rolled up and was jumping from rock to rock, pointing at things while Bizarro hovered behind him, hands outstretched.

Nightwing gave the barn behind them one last look. “We’ll take Jason back to the motel and then you grab what you need to get rid of this place. After that, I’m taking him back to Gotham.”

Artemis nodded. “Bizarro and I will be accompanying you.”

She had made the little one a promise, after all. Gotham City was not a place that was free of monsters.

***

Back in the motel room, Nightwing waited until the little one was quiet and sleepy before he broached the subject of returning to Gotham. Artemis had warned him on the walk back of the little one’s refusal when she had brought the subject up herself.

He did not take it any better this time.

“No!” Jason shook his head rapidly, clutching his dog to his chest and hiding his face against it. His breath hitched and he curled in a miserable ball.

“Hey, hey.” Nightwing was quick to slide onto the couch beside his brother, gathering him up and pulling him into his lap. “It’s okay, little wing.”

“I’m not going,” Jason said, pulling his face away from his dog long enough to glare at his brother. Tears were streaking down his face, adding to the utterly miserable look he wore. “Ever.”

Nightwing pulled him close and rubbed his hand up and down his back. Jason threw his arms around his brother’s neck and clung to him, starting to sob again. “Shh, I’ve got you, Jay.” He rocked the child back and forth, until eventually Jason’s sobs calmed again and he sat back, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. “You really don't want to go to Gotham, huh?"

"No," Jason replied, curling up tighter in Nightwing's lap. "Not ever."

Nightwing frowned. "Not even to see Bruce and Alfred? You remember them, right?"

Jason shook his head, reaching up with one hand to rub at his eyes and giving another sniff. "Not going."

Artemis shifted, uncomfortable with the idea of seeing the little one in tears again so soon. She’d already experienced it enough to last several lifetimes. "I told you, I've tried. He refuses."

"Why don't you want to go to Gotham, little wing?" Nightwing asked, he kept his hand on Jason’s back, rubbing soothing circles.

Jason let out a choked breath. "The clown is there."

Nightwing froze. For a moment, he even seemed to have stopped breathing.

“The clown?” Artemis frowned, glancing over the television that Jason had been so fixated on, even before he’d been reduced to this state. “The Joker? The one that escaped?”

The look the little one sent the television was fearful. He choked out another breath and then starting sobbing again. This time he was not quick to calm. It took Nightwing pacing the room with the child in his arms, rocking him and murmuring quiet assurances, until the little one eventually subsided into a restless, exhausted sleep.

Nightwing tucked the boy into the closest bed, brushing at a hand over his hair. He looked over at Bizarro. “Stay with him?”

Bizarro nodded, moving to sit next to Jason on the bed and watch over him. His face was pulled into a worried frown.

Nightwing moved away, letting out a shaky breath and running a hand down his face. Finally, he looked over, meeting her expectant gaze. “You have questions.”

She nodded. “Many.”

He gave another lingering look at his brother. “Outside. I don’t want to wake him.”

Artemis arched a brow, but followed him to the door. “You think I’ll yell?”

“I would,” he replied, and then said nothing further, leading her out into the small grassy field behind the motel. He turned and faced her, visibly steeling himself. “Ask.”

“He is terrified,” Artemis said. “He hid it well before, but he has been glued to the news reports of the escape. He has been fixated. Who is the Joker to the little one?”

Nightwing’s jaw worked and he closed his eyes. “His murderer.”

Several things clicked into place in her mind, but she had only more questions beyond the rushing of blood in her ears.

Judging from the look on his face, Nightwing held no suitable answers.

“His murderer.” The words were distasteful on her tongue. Artemis clenched her teeth together and kept her breathing slow and even. “When.”

“He was fifteen.” Nightwing put his hand to his mouth and bit down on his knuckles. “Fuck, he remembers. ”

No wonder he’d been having trouble sleeping. Anger coiled in her gut. She knew the Joker only by reputation and that was damning enough.

“Let me guess,” Artemis said, scathing and with a blood-boiling anger lit under her words. “It was not a quick death.”

Nightwing turned and walked several feet away, running his hands through his hair. It was answer enough for her.

It had been nearly a week since the escape. Artemis thought back to when they’d discovered it. The little one had been manic, blowing through the apartment and chattering at Bizarro and her in turn, carrying on two conversations at once. His eyes had been feverishly bright and when Artemis had expressed concerns about pursuing the Harvester in his condition he’d laughed in her face.

“I’ll be fine once we’re out of here,” he’d said, with the curl of a sneer on his lips. “I can’t try to kill him and fail again. Then I truly will go mad.”

It had meant little to her then.

Now, she understood.

But there was something else. One last thing that she did not, could not, understand.

“Why is it,” she said, narrowing her eyes as Nightwing turned to look at her, face collapsed in grief, “that the Joker is still drawing breath?”

Nightwing swallowed. To his credit, he did not offer her platitudes.

“No good reason, then.” Artemis nodded. “An oversight, clearly. One I will correct.”

“You can’t walk into Gotham City and murder someone,” Nightwing replied. His voice was strained. “Not under Batman’s watch.”

She could not imagine stopping anyone from killing a monster who had dared touch any of her sisters.

“Jason needs you,” Nightwing said. “With him, not running off to kill the Joker. He’s scared, you make him feel safe. Help me keep him safe.”

He was far more manipulative than she’d given him credit for.

“If I come across him,” she warned. “I will not hold back.”

“Good.” Nightwing shrugged, looking back towards the motel. “If he comes anywhere near Jason I’d want nothing else.”

That, at least, they could agree on.

Chapter Text

“We should probably go back inside.” Dick nodded back towards the motel, eying Artemis closely. The aggression had faded away, leaving them both standing there awkwardly. When Artemis gestured him ahead, Dick let himself relax, rubbing one hand down his face as he turned his mind back to the actual problem at hand—Jason.

He nearly jumped when his phone started to ring, vibrating in his back pocket. He’d forgotten he even had it, so rushed when he’d left Gotham that he’d barely remembered to even try and wear some kind of disguise. He slid the phone out and stood aside to let Artemis go on ahead. She folded her arms across her chest and stared back at him, expectant.

With a sigh, he checked the phone’s display and grimaced at the name before lifting it to his ear and answering. “Yeah?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Bruce, of course.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you need something, Bruce?”

A brief moment of silence before Bruce replied, “You should be in Gotham.”

Dick was glad he’d forgotten to bring his comm with him. He was not in the mood for dealing with Batman, not right now, and Batman couldn’t call Dick Grayson’s phone. “I’m with Jason.”

“Is he okay?” Bruce asked, more hesitant now. Dick hadn’t been the only one worried when Jason had up and disappeared on them, no matter how much Bruce pretended it didn’t bother him.

“No, he’s not okay.” Dick sighed. “He’s seven, actually. He’s pretty tiny.”

Absolute silence.

Dick waited patiently. This was hardly the weirdest thing to ever happen to one of them, although it was probably getting up there.

“Bring him home.”

“Might have a problem with that,” Dick replied. Artemis continued to watch him silently. “He’s having nightmares and he remembers the Joker. He refuses to go anywhere near Gotham.”

“Dick. Bring him home.”

Well, he hadn’t really expected anything else. “I’m bringing his teammates as well, Jason won’t let them out of his sight.”

“Fine. Just get him here.”

The call ended before he could reply. Dick rolled his eyes. “We’ve been summoned.”

“I gathered,” Artemis said, wry. “How exactly are you planning on getting the little one to Gotham?”

“In the plane I used to get here,” Dick said. He tapped his fingers against the back of the phone before sliding it back into his back pocket. “Speaking of, I need to go get something from it real quick.” He pointed at the motel door. “Get the stuff, blow the barn. We’re going to be out of here within the hour.”

He ran off without waiting for a reply. It was probably for the best; Artemis was just as likely to punch him in the face as actually follow his instructions, even if the plan he gave was one she agreed with.

The Batplane was where he’d left it, hidden off in a field far from any buildings or people. It had a fully stocked first-aid kit, including some extras that Alfred had thrown in. Dick snatched up the bottle he was looking for and left the plane.

Worry was a vice around his chest as he ran back to the motel where Jason had hidden his team away. Even in the bright light of day there wasn’t a soul around to spot him; all the better considering his lackluster disguise.

When he opened the door and quietly slipped inside it was to find Jason sitting up, rubbing at his eyes and looking wretchedly miserable. Bizarro sat on the other bed, watching Jason with a worried frown.

Dick put the bottle on the counter in the kitchen and approached the bed, smiling softly at his little brother. Literally little, at the moment, and it wasn’t that a punch in the gut. He sat down on the mattress beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders, dragging the boy against his side. Jason wriggled and then clambered into his lap, curling up and tangling his fingers into the dark shirt Dick was wearing.

“You’re okay,” Dick said, shifting his arms so Jason was held securely against him. The vice around his chest got worse. Jason had never been this clingy with him in his life, even back before—before. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Jay, I promise.”

They really needed to get that sample analyzed.

Jason reached up and rubbed at his head. “I have a headache.”

“Yeah? You probably need to drink something.” Dick helped him get to his feet and led him through to the kitchen, checking the fridge for anything suitable. There was a half-full bottle of apple juice to the side that he snatched up. He took a glass and filled it with the juice before adding a tablespoon from the bottle he’d grabbed from the plane.

“What’s that?” Jason asked, padding into the small kitchen and staring at the glass Dick handed him, face screwed up with so much suspicion that Dick was relieved just for the familiarity of it.

“It’s something to help you sleep.” Dick ruffled Jason’s hair and watched as his little brother continued to stare at the glass in his hands. “It’s safe, I promise.”

“What if I take it and have a nightmare and can’t wake up?” Jason asked. “I wouldn’t like that.”

“It’s Alfred approved, kiddo. It’s just going to knock you straight out.”

Jason huffed. “I don’t know who that is.” His nose wrinkled up more before, with a shrug, he started to drink the juice.

Dick waited until he was done before taking the glass back and rinsing it in the sink.

“If you’re wrong,” Jason said, coming up beside him and tugging on the bottom of his shirt, “I will get Arty to beat you up.”

Dick laughed. “I’m sure she would.” He was certain she wouldn’t even ask Jason for a reason first.

It didn’t take long before Jason was yawning and curling up on the couch with his toy dog. Bizarro covered him with a blanket before coming to stand next to Dick, who was staring out of the small window that looked out over the front of the motel’s car park.

“Red Him okay?” Bizarro asked, fidgeting with the end of the flannel shirt he wore.

“He’ll be fine.” Dick met his eyes briefly to smile at him before turning back to the window. “He won’t be out long—just long enough to take him back to Gotham.”

Bizarro grunted. “Red Him don’t like Gotham.”

“His head’s a little mixed up,” Dick replied. “Gotham is his home.”

Considering exactly who was loose in Gotham at the moment though, well, even Dick wasn’t one hundred percent convinced taking Jason straight back was the best thing.

***

From the time Jason fell asleep it only took another half hour before Artemis returned to the motel, warning that the emergency vehicles had responded faster than expected. Dick and Bizarro had already been stripping the motel room, and it only took another ten minutes to get clear and get them all back to the plane.

Bizarro carried Jason, hoving off the ground so as to not jostle the child even a little.

Once they were in the air Artemis narrowed her eyes at Jason, still peacefully sleeping in Bizarro’s arms. She took a seat beside Dick in the co-pilot’s chair. He could practically feel the judgement rolling off her in waves. He glanced over at her. “You want something?”

“What did you do to him?”

“Mixed something in his drink,” Dick replied. “Wasn’t much, but it should hopefully keep him out long enough to get him back to the manor and maybe let him get some actual rest.”

Artemis grunted, shifting to look back at Jason again. Her mouth was drawn into a tight, severe line. “How are you going to fix this?”

“It might still wear off,” Dick said. “We have samples that we can analyze at the Cave, and we know some people who work with magic. We’ll get him back.”

Artemis sighed, slumping back in her chair. “Right now I will settle for him sleeping without medical intervention.”

“Red Him am okay,” Bizarro said, reaching out with one hand to root through one of the duffel bags set down beside him and pull out Jason’s dog. He tucked it under one of Jason’s arms. “Me listening.”

“Thanks,” Dick said, grinning over his shoulder at him. “You guys take pretty good care of my little brother.”

“Someone has to,” Artemis muttered, rolling her head along the back of her chair. “The little one  seems to have misplaced his survival instincts on his way back to life.”

Dick snorted.

“Red Her,” Bizarro said, with such strong disapproval that Dick couldn’t stop the laugh this time.

“Perhaps he made a trade in the underworld,” Artemis said, ignoring her teammate. “He is supernaturally talented at being obnoxious.”

“Red Her is mean.” Bizarro shook his head, adjusting Jason in his arms. “Red Him not able to fight back.”

“He’s spent the last two days chewing on my hair,” Artemis replied, annoyance seeping into her voice. “He deserves what he gets.”

“Don’t worry,” Dick told her, around his laughter. “Once everyone gets over the shock, someone will get a camera out.”

In fact, Dick was pretty sure that once Jason returned to normal they’d probably not see him again for at least six months while the big bad Red Hood disappeared to try escape the humiliation.

“Bizarro protect Red Him,” Bizarro said, loyal to a fault. He looked down at Jason with a smile. “Little Red Him not helpless though. Bites hard.”

“He bit you?” Dick asked, a little surprised. “He adores you.”

“Red Him surprised,” Bizarro said, shrugging. “Didn’t hurt.”

Artemis shook her head. “He’s lucky he didn’t break his teeth.”

Dick grinned, turning his attention back to the plane. They normally avoided flying the Batplane during the day if they could help it; it was just that much more visible without the darkness of the night sky to hide against, but they had multiple routes plotted to avoid notice. The plane didn’t stand out from a normal jet in any significant way, but with air security being what it is, it was best that it went unnoticed.

Jason didn’t stir once the entire flight to Gotham and Dick was glad that Bizarro was monitoring him, because it saved him from looking over his shoulder every few minutes to check himself. He settled for once every ten minutes or so instead.

Artemis had settled into meditation and didn’t stir until the plane was landing in the Batcave. Her eyes snapped open when the plane began to slow and she let out a long, hissing breath.

“Red Her not start fight,” Bizarro said, frowning at her as he stood up. He looked around at the various duffel and shopping bags. “Lots to carry.”

“Dibs on the little guy.” Dick held his arms out and wiggled his fingers in Jason’s direction.

Bizarro gently passed him over, careful to make sure the dog stayed securely in Jason’s arms, and then started collecting bags.

Artemis pushed herself up from her seat and took the collection of test tubes that Dick had carefully put in a rack.

There was a hiss as the ramp of the plane lowered. Bizarro ambled down first. Artemis grimaced and nodded for Dick to go ahead.

“I am in no hurry to see any of your family,” she said.

Jason was startlingly small and light, even compared to the now faint memories Dick had of him at twelve. It was no effort at all to carry him down the ramp and into the Cave proper.

Batman was waiting there, Alfred at his side. Judging by the tightness of his jaw, he wasn’t best pleased by the situation or the presence of the two meta humans walking around the Cave. Dick couldn’t see his eyes moving beneath the lenses of the cowl, but his head tilted, directing his gaze to the child Dick held in his arms. Somehow, Batman managed to tense up further.

“Master Jason?” Alfred asked, moving to Dick’s side and scrutinizing the boy. “I’m rather afraid none of his old clothes—nor any of Master Damian’s—will fit him. He is a tad smaller than I expected.”

“Yeah,” Dick replied, smiling. “I nearly fell over when I saw him.”

“Take him over to the medbay,” Batman said, still as unmoving as a statue and staring at Jason. “Check him over, Alfred.”

Alfred nodded, gesturing for Dick to follow.

“I don’t know how long he’s going to stay asleep,” Dick said, trailing after Alfred and laying Jason gently down on one of the gurneys. He glanced behind him to see Batman standing where they’d left him, with Artemis five feet away from him. They seemed to be engaged in a staring contest. “Oh, this is going to be a fun time.”

Alfred clucked his tongue, not looking up from Jason. After slipping some gloves on he gave Jason a brief once-over before starting to take more detailed notes. Dick stayed by Jason’s side and kept one eye on the other occupants of the Cave. Alfred carefully opened Jason’s mouth and shined a penlight inside, examining his teeth and making a thoughtful noise.

“He have cavities or something?” Dick asked, adjusting Jason’s arm around the toy dog.

“No, they’re quite perfect,” Alfred replied. “He just has all of his milk teeth. Master Jason had lost them by twelve.”

“He said he was seven.”

“That does seem about right, yes.” Alfred brushed one hand through Jason’s hair, looking down at him with a soft, warm look, before glancing up, scanning the Cave and its occupants. “I shall not be long, and then you can take him up to his room.”

“In the meantime,” Dick said, with another glance behind him, “let’s just hope World War Three doesn’t break out over there.”

***

It was all hands on deck even without Jason’s little incident. The Joker still hadn’t been found and the longer he remained hidden and quiet, the worse the inevitable chaos he unleashed would be, and they knew that from long experience. Bruce had been growing more and more tense as the days went by, and Jason disappearing off the radar nearly as soon as it had happened hadn’t helped. Jason coming back to them as a child had added another thick layer of tension, another weight on his shoulders.  

It meant that when Jason finally stirred several hours after arriving, Dick was the only one in the room with him.

Jason sat up in bed, hair sleep-mussed and lips curved into a tired pout. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and then looked around, pausing when he spotted Dick sitting in the chair next to the bed. “Where are we?”

“Bristol,” Dick replied, just to see how he would react. “At the manor.”

Jason frowned, directing his gaze to his lap and shrugging. “I don’t know where that is.”

“Home, Jay.” Dick moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re safe here, don’t worry.”

“Where’s Arty?” Jason asked, grabbing the stuffed dog from under the covers where it had been tucked beside him and pulling it into his lap. “Where’s Biz?”

“Downstairs,” Dick replied, although in truth he’d lost track of both Jason’s teammates in the chaos that had been getting Jason settled at the same time that a false sighting of the Joker had most of the family scouring Gotham while it was still light out. He’d last seen Bizarro in the kitchen with Alfred, while Artemis had remained in the Cave. “How are you feeling, Jay?”

“Gross.” Jason made a face, rubbing at his eyes again. “Tired.”

“How about a shower, then? It might help you wake up.”

Jason nodded slowly, giving the room another look around. He paused when he saw the bookshelf. “Those are my books.”

“This is your room,” Dick replied, standing up. “Come on, let’s get you that shower.”

Jason might have recognized bits of his own room but the rest of the manor seemed to be a blank. After showering and changing into clean clothes he was a bit more awake but still mostly bemused by his surroundings. Dick ended up giving him a piggyback ride down to the kitchen, where they found Alfred teaching Bizarro how to correctly make a salad. Dick used to think that salads were simple things, but Alfred had opinions about salads.

“Biz!” Jason shouted, at a volume loud enough that it had Dick wincing and crouching to let him slide down to the floor off his back. Bizarro looked over and waved, and Alfred turned around and smiled at them. Jason froze up, staring back at him with wide eyes and ducking back around behind Dick, peeking out from around him and biting his lip.

“It’s just Alfred, little wing.”

Jason continued to stare for a moment before he ventured out from behind Dick again. “Alfie?”

Alfred’s expression softened even further. “Hello, Master Jason. You’re looking a bit smaller than usual.”

“I’m not,” Jason said, with great affront, before running over to Alfred’s side and peering up at the counter. “Can I help?”

“This one is a bit too delicate for your little hands, I’m afraid.” Alfred gave the child a pat on the head. “Perhaps you could assist your friend with the salad.”

Jason nodded and hauled himself up onto the counter next to Bizarro, grabbing the recipe book that was open beside the Kryptonian and dragging it into his lap. Assisting turned into bossing Bizarro around, but Bizarro didn’t seem to mind, following all of Jason’s imperious orders exactly.

Dick sat on the opposite side of the counter and took the coffee Alfred handed over gladly.

“Where’s Arty?” Jason demanded, looking around the kitchen as if he might have missed a six foot something Amazon.

“Red Her downstairs,” Bizarro said.

“We’ll go find her in a bit, little wing.” Dick nudged Jason in the side and nodded back to Bizarro. “You have a salad to help prepare.”

Dick’s vague timeline of ‘a bit’ was apparently not acceptable to Jason, who stayed put for another five minutes before sliding off the counter and running from the room without another word to anyone.

“Red Him stubborn,” Bizarro said, with just a hint of a smirk on his face.

Dick pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll go babysit.”

For all his confusion about the layout of the manor, somehow Dick wasn’t surprised to find Jason at the entrance to the Cave, shoving a chair over to the grandfather clock so he could climb on top and reach for the hands. So absorbed he was in the task he didn’t notice Dick coming up behind him.

“What’s this?” Dick grabbed the boy around the waist and picked him off the chair.

“Fuck!” Jason yelled, and it was such a contrast with his tiny, adorable appearance that Dick started laughing, nearly doubling over with Jason still in his arms. “Stop it! It’s not funny, you’re squishing me!”

“I’m sorry, little wing.” Dick straightened up but didn’t let go of his armful of wriggly child, hefting Jason up. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Arty,” Jason replied, pointing at the grandfather clock.

He really was just as single-minded as ever, when he got an idea in his head. Dick reached out and pushed the hands of the clock into the correct positions, opening up the entrance to the Cave. Then he shifted Jason around and onto his hip and carried him down, not quite willing to let Jason go when he could run ahead and get into something he shouldn't.

Thank whatever higher deities existed that the memorial case was gone and had been for months.

Jason struggled to get free but Dick held him tight. He perked up when they got down to the main floor of the Cave and Artemis was visible, standing near the lab equipment where Batman was working on the samples they'd brought back.

"Arty." Jason pointed, leaning forward in his arms and making a disgruntled sound when Dick didn't speed up. "Arty, come here!"

Artemis looked over, raising an eyebrow at Jason's demand. At the same time, Bruce turned around, still in full costume, and Jason got his first full look at the Batman.

It seemed like every single muscle in his little body seized up at once and, with a little whimper, Jason turned and buried his face against Dick's neck and started to cry.

Dick froze, looking between Jason and Batman. Artemis shot Batman a narrow-eyed look.

"Take him upstairs," Batman said, putting one hand on the bench beside him as if to steady himself, and there was something in his voice Dick couldn't put a name to, but he turned around and hurried away with Jason because it certainly wasn't anything good.

Heavy footsteps followed, and then Artemis caught up and matched his pace.

"Jay?" Dick asked, halfway back up to the manor. "What's wrong, little guy?"

"He does not like his father," Artemis said, and Dick shot her a hard look. "What? You have another explanation?"

By the time they got Jason back upstairs and settled in the den, the collar of Dick's shirt was soaked through and when Jason finally pulled his face away, it was red and streaked with tears and snot. Alfred led Bizarro into the room, took stock of the situation and produced a handkerchief, crouching down in front of the couch Dick had collapsed onto and wiping Jason's face off, ignoring his sulky protests.

"I can do it!"

Alfred clucked his tongue and finished cleaning his face off. "There you go, Master Jason."

Jason took a hitching breath and scowled at the floor. "I had it."

"Course you did, little wing." Dick shifted him off his lap so he could turn and face him better. Jason pulled his knees to his chest and scowled around at all of them. "What was that all about, then?"

Jason sniffed, glare darkening, before he sat up and announced, "I hate Batman."

Artemis snorted, visibly amused as she came around the back of the couch and pat Jason on the head, smirking over at Dick. "See? I told you."

"Could you stop looking so damn amused about it?" Dick shook his head before returning his attention back to Jason. "You're scared of Batman, Jay? Why?"

Jason opened his mouth, paused, and then screwed his face up as he thought. "He is in my dreams," he finally said, although with a little less confidence. "He is also a giant fu—" a look at Alfred and his little shoulders hunched over "—fugnut."

Behind the couch, Artemis gave Jason a look that was disturbingly soft and fond.

"Yes, do mind your words, Master Jason," Alfred said, with an arched brow. "Such language is not suitable—"

"—for a young man of my age." Jason gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Dick clamped a hand over his mouth before he made an unfortunate sound and drew Alfred's ire. Maybe Artemis wasn’t the only one who was a little too amused by this tiny Jason.

Alfred tapped Jason on the nose before straightening up, folding the handkerchief up even if Dick knew for certain it would be tossed straight in the laundry. "How nice it is to know that I made an impression."

After Alfred left the den Jason looked around, flickering between them like he was checking that everyone was present and accounted for. "Where is Sparky?"

"Upstairs in your room," Dick replied. "Do you need him?"

"I do not need a stuffed toy," Jason said, scowling and kicking his feet over the side of the couch. "But I have to have him."

"Bizarro get Sparky," Bizarro said, grinning at Jason before ducking out of the room.

Jason shifted, leaning against Dick’s side. Dick tossed one arm over his little brother’s shoulders and hugged him close

“Everything is gonna be fine, little wing. You’ll see.”

***

Even in the familiarity of his old bedroom in the manor, Jason couldn't settle to sleep. It was Alfred who set the early seven o'clock bedtime, after Jason had spurned every suggestion of a nap. The same problems with solid sleeping had persisted, and he was up again in less than half an hour, finding Dick and Bizarro in the den and squeezing in between them on the couch.

They were watching a horror movie, which Dick belatedly realized was probably not suitable viewing for a kid who suffered from nightmares. Jason tucked himself in against Dick’s side and closed his eyes. Dick could count the number of times he stirred awake by the little jerks of Jason’s head against his arm.

Artemis came in about an hour later, moving to the far window to stare out over the grounds. “Where are the rest of your siblings? I would’ve thought they’d have descended by now.”

“Patrol.” Dick had been planning to go out there with them, after Jason had been safely settled to sleep, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. “Priority number one is finding the Joker.”

Artemis sneered. “It has been how many days already?”

Dick shifted against the couch, tilting his head back to stretch his neck out. “You want to get out there and help?”

“I’m sure your father would love that idea,” Artemis said dourly.

“Probably not.” Dick grinned. “But you look like you need to stretch your legs.”

“I can spar with Bizarro later.” Artemis finally turned away from the window. “I will stay close until the little one feels safe.”

Judging by the little twitches Jason gave as he stirred awake for the countless time, they were in for a long wait.

Jason gave a hitching breath and scrubbed at his face with the sleeve of his pajamas. A second hitch had Dick reaching over and pulling him into his lap, wrapping his arms around him tightly and pressing his lips to the crown of Jason’s head. “You’re okay, Jay. I’ve got you.”

Jason’s sobs were quiet, desperate little things. Artemis went from visibly uncomfortable to fleeing the room entirely, fists clenched and jaw set. Bizarro watched Jason sadly, chewing on his bottom lip.

“I’m tired,” Jason whispered. “I want—”

He dissolved into tears again before they could find out what he wanted. Dick hummed wordless comfort and wracked his brain to think of something, anything he could do to comfort his little brother.

“Red Him not well.” Bizarro stood up, hovering over them for a moment before moving towards the door. “Bizarro go find sweets. Little Red Him like sweets.”

That left just the two of them. Dick shifted sideways, laying out flat on the couch with his head propped up on the arm. Jason burrowed between him and the back of the couch, one fist curled tight in Dick’s shirt, the other arm wrapped around his soft toy. They stayed like that long enough that Dick let his eyes drift shut, nearly dozing.

A creaking sound from the doorway had Dick leaning up, peering over the back of the couch to see Bruce, out of costume and with a haggard look of exhaustion on his face. He wore only sweats and an old sleeveless shirt. One of his shoulders was bandaged.

“You okay?” Dick asked, nodding at the shoulder.

Bruce walked slowly into the room, eyes fixed on Jason and jaw tight. “It’s fine. How is he?”

Jason stirred at the sound of Bruce’s voice, head popping up. He blinked owlishly for a moment, craning his neck around to stare at their father.

Bruce tensed, taking a single step back.

“Bruce?” Jason asked, before jolting up. “Bruce!”

Dick cringed as he got a small foot to the gut as Jason scrambled up and off the couch, running full tilt at Bruce and practically leaping for him.

Bruce’s eyes widened and he stared down at Jason for a moment before folding down, sweeping Jason up and clutching him to his chest, turning his head and pressing a kiss into his hair. “Shh, Jay. It’s okay. I have you.”

Jason was sobbing again, loud and unrestrained, but maybe—hopefully—not quite as desperate.

Dick let his head fall back and hit the arm of the couch and sighed, closing his eyes. “Guess it’s just Batman he doesn’t like.”

“Hn.”

He pried his eyes open a few minutes later to see Bruce running one hand up and down Jason’s back, calming him down slowly. His face as he stared down at Jason was soft but twisted into that same expression from earlier in the Cave.

Eventually Jason leaned back, yawning and looking around. “Sparky?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Dick picked up the dog and tossed it over.

“This?” Bruce asked, catching it and handing it to Jason, who pried one of his arms from around Bruce’s neck and grabbed onto the dog.

Jason twisted in Bruce’s arms so he could look back and glare at Dick. “Don’t throw Sparky, you dick.”

“Hey, don’t be rude, young man,” Dick said with a laugh.

“How can it be rude?” Jason asked, kicking his feet and snuggling closer into Bruce. “It’s your name.”

Dick snorted. “You know why, you little dictionary. Second, you hit me in the nose with that thing.”

“I did not,” Jason replied, with a huff of affront. He was relaxed now, all but melted in Bruce’s arms.

“It was today, Jay.”

“Nope.” Jason shook his head. “Didn’t happen. Where are your witnesses?”

“Neither would ever testify against you,” Dick said, shaking his head and sitting up properly, running a hand over his face. He looked up at Bruce. “You going out again?”

Bruce looked conflicted for a moment, but then Jason looked up at him and his expression softened. “No.”  

“I might join the others, now you’ve got him,” Dick said, standing up and stretching his back out.

Jason shook his head, worrying his lip with his teeth. “No. You stay too.”

“What? You’re not glad to be rid of me?” He asked, walking over and rubbing Jason’s back.

“The clown is there,” Jason said, hushed and scared, and Bruce’s face shut down. “You have to stay.”

No wonder the little guy wanted them all within easy reach.  

“Stay,” Bruce said, cupping the back of Jason’s head and tightening his arms when Jason burrowed in against him. “Let me put him to bed and we’ll talk.”

Dick nodded.

Bruce turned and carried Jason out of the den, murmuring softly to him.

Putting Jason to bed was the easy part. If Bruce could actually get him to sleep a full night without nightmares, that would damn near make him a miracle worker.

Chapter Text

"The lockdown on the two mile radius around Arkham was lifted by the GCPD." Bruce had his hands steepled, frowning at the map of Gotham he'd brought up on the screen of the Batcomputer. "Tonight we’ve put more focus on the south, except for a routine sweep through the northeast."

"He always did love Amusement Mile." Dick leaned against the back of Bruce's chair, studying the coloured patrol routes on the map. "Do you think he's still in Gotham?"

“He’s gone this quiet before.”

It was still eerily quiet for the Joker. Not even a whisper on the wind. The kind of silence that only happened before the worst of his stunts.

“What about Jay?”

Bruce’s eyes drifted to the clock at the corner of the Batcomputer’s screen. “He’s been down for four hours; he’s safe and stable enough. I’m still analyzing the vials you brought back.”

There was a thump from the staircase. Dick glanced back over his shoulder. “Hold that thought.”

Jason appeared a few moments later, clad in pajamas and without his soft toy. He spotted Dick and narrowed his eyes, expression the height of offense. “You’re in costume.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Bruce said, rotating the chair around and giving Jason a once over. “Did you have another nightmare?”

“No,” Jason replied, bouncing down the last few steps and looking around the Cave. “I was hungry.”

“Alfred can make you something,” Bruce said.

“No. I found cake.”

Dick could see a smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, and wasn’t that a great thing for a kid to eat after midnight. “How much cake did you have, little wing?”

Jason sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, shrugging and hurrying off towards one of Bruce’s workbenches. “Only a small all of it.”

“A whole cake?” Dick asked, while in the chair next to him Bruce rubbed at his temples and cringed. Alfred was probably not going to be impressed at all. Their fault for not watching Jason close enough, Dick supposed. “How did a whole cake fit in your tiny stomach?”

Jason paused, turning and grinning at them. “I know, I was surprised too.” Then he spun around and raced off again.

Bruce sighed.

“I got him,” Dick said, clasping Bruce on the shoulder before following Jason across the Cave.

The kid was opening sets of drawers in a shelf near the equipment racks, peering inside each and digging around in them.

“Jay, what are you looking for?”

“Biz,” Jason replied, slamming the drawer he was looking in closed and moving on to the next. “And Arty.”

“Yeah? I don’t think they’re in the drawers.” Dick trailed behind his little brother as he continued his circuit, randomly opening and closing whatever was in reach of his little hands. “They went to spar a while ago, get some fresh air.”

“I know they wouldn’t fit in the drawers,” Jason said, briefly flicking his eyes up and poking his tongue out. Up close the stain of chocolate across his mouth was more noticeable. “I am multitasking.”

“Right, and what do you need the electrical wire for?”

Jason looked down at the wire he’d slid out of the latest drawer, blinking at it. “Uh.” He gently put it down and moved on, jumping when Dick picked him under the arms and hauled him away from his quest, carrying him back over to the computer. Even as small as he was, holding Jason while he was contorting himself in an attempt to kick him in the jaw was more difficult than Dick had expected.

Once he was in reach Dick dropped him into Bruce’s lap. “Look, it’s Bruce.”

Jason sat up, huffing and glaring at him. “ Dick .”

He couldn’t resist reaching over and pinching Jason’s nose, laughing at his indignant squawk of protest. “You feeling better now, Jay?”

“I’m fine,” Jason said, slapping at Bruce’s hand as their father slid an arm around his waist. “Stop trying to confine me. I have rights.”

“You’re cute, that’s what you are,” Dick said, grinning when Jason stuck his tongue out at him again, poking out his own right back.

The look he got in return was so affronted he wanted to take a photo. Jason held his hands up, making tiny fists. “I will fight you.”

Dick held his own hands up, grinning as Jason struggled to get free of Bruce’s grip.

“Enough.” Bruce levelled a glare at him. “You have a patrol to get to.”

Dick winced as Jason’s head shot up. He’d been nice and distracted a moment before, too.

“No.” Jason shook his head with sudden vehemence, nearly hitting Bruce in the jaw. “I’ll bite you,” he said to Bruce, a warning that had Bruce straightening further and tightening the arm around him. Jason nodded, satisfied, and turned back to Dick. “You’re staying here.”

“Were you always this bossy?” Dick straightened, fiddling with his gauntlets. “I gotta go out and help the others, Jay.”

“What others?” Jason asked dully, tucking his head under Bruce’s chin and settling there. He pointed imperiously at Dick. “If you try go out, Biz will stop you.”

Dick raised his eyebrows. “Jay, I’ll be fine.”

“This is for your own good,” Jason said, voice dropping in a childish parody of Bruce that had the real one’s lips twitching.

“Oh I see.” Dick snorted, smirking at Bruce. “He gets it from you, then.”

“So do you!” Jason scowled. “You’re bossier.”

“You’re the bossiest.”

“Your face is the bossiest,” was Jason’s final shot, and Dick had to cover his mouth to stop from outright cackling.

“Where do you get these things from?” Bruce asked, shifting Jason so he could stand up from the computer chair. He set the boy on his feet, taking him by the hand when Jason made to run away. “No, Jay. You’re going to bed.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, staring at Bruce in silence for a few moments before turning to Dick. “Bruce is the bossiest.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

When pouting up at Bruce got him nowhere, Jason grudgingly trudged at his side as Bruce led him back up the stairs to the manor.

Dick watched them go and then held up his wrist, opening the compartment in his gauntlets and slipping out his comm. It gave a soft crackle as he tucked it into his ear and activated it.

“Hey, kids. What’d I miss?”

***

“He is exceedingly small.” Damian stood with his arms crossed, eyes on the small boy tucked against Dick’s side on the couch. Jason had his face turned against Dick’s arm. “Why is he hiding?”

“Jay’s just a bit shy,” Dick replied. It had been news to him as well. Upon his first meeting with the rest of his siblings since his sudden shrinkage, Jason had gone wide-eyed and silent, clinging to the nearest person he was comfortable with. Dick couldn’t say if the shyness was some side effect of the magic or just something he’d not been around to notice in his little brother when he’d been younger.

As an adult, Jason was very good at pretending a great many things.

“He doesn’t remember us at all?” Steph inched closer, crouching down to Jason’s height. “Hi there. I’m Steph. You may not remember right now, but I was definitely your favorite.”

Damian clicked his tongue against his teeth. “He’s smaller, not taken leave of his senses—and frankly even a complete imbecile could see through your terrible lies, Brown.”

Jason turned his face away from Dick’s arm and regarded Damian for one long moment. “You speak like a two-bit supervillain.”

Steph clamped her hands over her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Damian stared at Jason in silence, expression stony. “You haven’t changed at all.”

With that bit of wisdom conveyed, Damian gave Steph a withering look before he spun on his heel and marched out of the room.

“That was Damian,” Steph said, once she’d composed herself. She smiled at Jason. “You’ll get used to him.”

Jason wrinkled his nose.

A brief, sharp knock against the doorframe preceded Tim into the room, trailed by Cass and Duke. After the somewhat lackluster first meeting, they’d decided to give Jason some space and take turns introducing themselves. Steph had emerged victorious when they’d drawn straws and had dragged Damian along to meet Jason first.

Cass moved forward to kneel in front of the couch. She smiled softly at Jason and pointed to herself. “You remember me?”

Jason shook his head.

“I’m Cass.”

“Cass,” Jason repeated, nodding. “You’re my sister?”

Cass beamed at him. “Big sister.”

Jason turned and looked up at Dick, as if to check the validity of Cass’ words. Dick tousled Jason’s hair and nodded.

“Okay,” Jason said, somewhat doubtfully. It was perhaps a little concerning that no one Jason had met since he’d woken that morning had prompted any recognition. Maybe finally getting some sleep without nightmares had let the memories recede. Dick was trying not to think about it.

“This is amazing,” Steph said. She moved around to sit on the arm of the couch next to Dick and grinned widely, one cheek dimpling. Her phone was in her right hand, but she tucked it out of sight when Jason looked over. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the favorite?”

“I’m pretty sure Artemis and Bizarro come out on top, actually,” Dick replied. Jason cast a look around the room at the sound of their names. Dick might have said Bruce was the favorite after last night, but he’d walked into the kitchen that morning to find Jason very determinedly giving Bruce the silent treatment through breakfast and, when Bruce had disappeared down to the Cave again to work, he’d spent the rest of the morning in a sulk that had been exhausting just to exist near.

“Your turn,” Cass said, turning and poking Tim in the leg.

“Uh.” Tim waved one hand. “Hi.”

Jason stared back in frosty silence, eyes narrowed.

Cass tilted her head to one side, looking between them. “You know him?”

“No,” Jason said. He pointed to Duke, hovering near the doorway. “He’s Duke though.”

Cass and Tim both turned to look at the newest member of the family.

“Uh, in my defence,” Duke said, scratching the back of his head. “He didn’t recognize me, I introduced myself three hours ago.”

“Right.” Tim turned around, stepping closer to the couch and offering Jason his hand. “I should probably do that. I’m Tim.”

“You want to give a little kid a handshake?” Steph whispered into her hands. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Oh, Tim.”

It ended up a bad decision for more than one reason, as Jason eyed the hand like it was a pit viper and then, with a vicious little snarl, leaned forward and bit Tim’s fingers.

“Holy—” Tim jerked his hand back. He shook it out, and backing away rapidly. “What the hell! This is Damian all over again.”

“Jason!” Dick frowned down at him, but Jason looked utterly unrepentant.

“There is clearly some latent hostility there,” Steph said, visibly amused. “He’s like an adorable little pitbull.”

Dick grabbed Jason by the arm when the kid made to follow Tim. “Seriously, Jay. We don’t bite people.”

“There is no ‘we’,” Jason said, with an angry little frown. “I bite people.”

Biting Tim seemed to be the icebreaker for Jason, as he quickly lost his shyness in favor of trailing after Tim with a vicious grin while poor Tim attempted to maintain a five foot safety distance and nearly tripped over the leg that Steph held out in his path.

It lasted until Damian reappeared and approached Tim from the opposite direction, trapping him between him and Jason. Tim turned wide, pleading eyes on Dick.

“Dick. Please.”

Jason tried to flee but at his current size it was nothing for Dick to catch up and grab him as he attempted to climb out the nearest window. He howled in clear offense when Dick carried him upstairs while ignoring his kicking and flailing. “Stop! Lemme go!”

“Being mean to Tim is not allowed, little wing.” It was a little funny watching him get chased around the room by a seven year old, but Dick wasn’t going to say that in front of said impressionable seven year old.

“Damian did it too,” Jason replied. “I saw him.”

“And I will talk to him after I’m done with you.” They really didn’t need Damian and Jason forming some kind of coalition. “And you started it before he joined in.”

For a brief moment, as Jason paused in his struggles, Dick thought he might try to argue the point—he was fairly sure that Jason had never given up an opportunity to argue in his entire life—but then Jason spotted Artemis at the other end of the hall and reached out for her instead. “Arty! Save me.”

Artemis appeared about as impassive as she usually did, not at all moved to rescue her shrunken teammate. She leaned one shoulder against the wall outside Jason’s bedroom and quirked an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“Tormented his brother,” Dick said, jostling Jason in his arms.

Jason shook his head with exaggerated slowness. “Had fun.”

“Your idea of fun is questionable.” Artemis nodded to the bedroom door. “I collected some of your things from your safe house.”

“My what?” Jason asked, finally squirming to freedom and leaping away from Dick, disappearing inside the bedroom. “Gifts?”

Dick cringed. “What did you bring him? He mostly keeps weapons in his safe houses.”

“I’m not a fool,” Artemis said, rolling her eyes. “I brought him his books.”

A gift that would always go over well, even if all Jason seemed to want to do with them currently was organize them on his shelves.

Sure enough, after leaving Artemis to her self-appointed job of standing guard outside the bedroom, Dick slipped into the room to find Jason standing on his desk chair to reach his higher shelves, pulling books out and rearranging them to fit the new ones in.

Dick rapped on the door frame to let his little brother know he was in the room. “Alphabetically or by size?”

Jason didn’t look over. “Color.”

“Good system.”

Jason nodded and continued his work, and proceeded to ignore any further attempt Dick made to engage him in conversation.

Dick felt uneasily leaving him alone, even if Jason seemed quite content. “Do you need anything, Jay?”

Jason shook his head. “Biz is coming back soon.”

Bizarro, who appeared unable to deny Jason anything without Artemis’ interference, had been sent on a quest to locate Jason’s teddy bear. He had been taken aside and quietly informed that it had been lost years ago, but still seemed determined and was armed with a hastily drawn picture of the bear that Jason had given him.

“All right, if you’re sure.” Dick didn’t want to overstay his welcome, either. “Artemis is outside and we’re all downstairs if you need anything.”

“I won’t.”

Damian wasn’t wrong, really, to say that Jason hadn’t really changed much at all.

***

There was a colorful array of liquids bubbling away in beakers when Dick finally tracked Bruce down in the Batcave’s lab that evening. Bruce wasn’t in costume but was wearing lab gear, and he gave Dick a frosty look when he approached in neither.

“There are more colors than what we brought back.” Dick pulled himself up on the table in the center of the lab area, swinging his feet back and forth. The table was clear of anything except sheets of paper that might have been results from Bruce’s experiments, but he was still given a pointed look.

“There were some unusual reactions,” Bruce said, turning away and looking through the microscope. The notebook that Dick had found in the barn in Georgia was sitting on the lab table beside him.

“Have you found anything?”

Bruce’s shoulders tensed. “No. Not yet.”

“I know things are busy with the Joker, but you can’t spend every waking moment down here or on patrol.” It was a familiar reminder, one that Dick had long since given up making much effort with. Bruce would do what Bruce wanted to do. “Jason sulked through dinner.”

“I’ll see him later,” Bruce replied, changing out the slides on the microscope and scrawling some notes down in the book sitting open beside him. “Before patrol.”

“His bedtime is seven.” Dick could only pray that Jason slept better tonight. Seeing Bruce had settled him somewhat, but the longest he’d managed in one stretch had still only been five hours.

“Hn.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “So, you might want to get up there.”

“After this.”

“He’ll be asleep.”

Bruce muttered something under his breath, scrawling more notes and changing out the slide again. “Then he’ll be asleep.”

“The point is that he sees you.” Why was arguing with Bruce always like talking to a freaking brick wall. “It’s for his benefit, not yours.”

“Do you know what will benefit Jason most?” Bruce asked, finally looking over. “Being returned to normal.”

Dick sighed. “Say that to the kid upstairs.”

“The kid upstairs is not Jason,” Bruce replied. “He’s not real, not really. What he is—” Bruce paused, turning back to the microscope “—is a very good distraction.”

It took him a few seconds to understand. Dick frowned, sliding to the floor. “Are you serious? You really think that the Joker has something to do with this?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Jason was in another state!”

“And the Joker has organized more complicated plots before.”

Dick bit his tongue. The problem with arguing with Bruce was that he got angry, lost his composure and started shouting. Things generally disintegrated completely from there, and Damian didn’t need to witness the cold wars that resulted from a true fight between them. Jason didn’t either. He took a deep breath. “Say that you’re right. How?”

“I haven’t got that far with it,” Bruce said, with a hint of annoyance. “It’s simply a theory to keep in mind.”

“A theory that gives you a nice excuse to reorder your priorities as you please,” Dick muttered.

That got him a sharp look. “Did you need something else, Dick?”

“No.” Dick spun on his heel and walked away. “We have nothing left to talk about.”

The conversation had him grinding his teeth as he climbed the stairs back up to the manor. He wanted to go back down and press his point, but knew from long experience that he could argue the entire night away and wouldn’t sway Bruce’s mind.

Alfred was in the study when Dick emerged from the cave. He took one look at Dick’s face and raised both eyebrows. “A productive conversation, I take it?”

“Not particularly,” Dick said, letting the bitterness clawing up his throat show in his voice. “When is it ever, with him.”

“This is reminding me quite strongly of your fights back when you first left the manor,” Alfred replied. “Particularly since we are currently blessed with young Master Jason.”

“He in bed yet?”

“Your siblings have taken him into the den for movie night.”

Dick grinned. “You’re soft on him, what happened to the bedtime?”

Alfred sniffed. “I was reminded that since he does not have to go to school in the morning that a movie shouldn’t impact his sleep schedule significantly.”

“No school, huh?” Dick grinned as Alfred gave a long-suffering sigh. “He took it badly, didn’t he?”

“I was told in no uncertain terms that I was an evil goblin that had stolen his education,” Alfred said, with a fond smile. “He then gave me the silent treatment until dessert, at which point he told me I was still an evil goblin but he’d forgiven me.”

Dick grinned. He looked back at the grandfather clock. “I don’t suppose your generous extension of his bedtime had anything to do with Bruce?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Alfred replied. “I believe you’re due in the den, Master Richard. One movie and then Master Jason is to be put to bed.”

“Got it.” Dick left the study, closing the door carefully behind him. Jason had found the Cave with unerring accuracy, but they didn’t actually want to encourage him to venture down there, particularly not without supervision.

He heard loud voices as he walked down the hall and as he turned the corner into the den, he was met with Tim and Steph, sharing an armchair that really wasn’t made for two and talking loudly over each other. Tim’s bangs had been tied up with a pink hair tie, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. Dick tuned them out and stepped around one of Steph’s flailing arms. Cass and Duke were sharing one of the couches, feet tangled together and passing a bowl of popcorn between them, avidly watching Steph and Tim.

Damian sat on one end of the other, longer couch. He kept looking over at Tim and Steph and rolling his eyes. On the floor in front of the couch sat Bizarro, a bowl of popcorn on the floor beside him and Jason in his lap.

Dick ruffled Jason’s hair as he walked by, slipping onto the opposite end of the couch from Damian, nodding over to where the argument was still taking place. “What’s that about?”

Bizarro shook his head. “Them loud.”

“They’ve spent half an hour arguing about what movie to watch,” Damian said, scowling as Dick stretched out over the couch. “Don’t put your feet near me.”

Dick smirked, lifting his legs and setting his feet down in Damian’s lap, pressing down when his little brother tried to remove him and, failing that, attempted to get out from under him.

“I will stab you,” Damian said, going as far as to pull a butterfly knife out of his pocket and brandish it at him.

Dick put on a stern look and waved a hand towards Jason. “No knives around the baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” The immediate protest was followed by Jason wrenching out one of the pillows Bizarro had propped up behind him, and then standing and balancing on Bizarro’s folded legs. It gave him ample height to lean over and whack Dick in the head with the pillow.

Sinking back into the couch cushions, chest heaving with laughter, Dick grinned up at Jason and grabbed him by the wrists, holding him still until the pillow dropped and Jason poked his tongue out, making a face.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” Dick said, as solemn as he could as his lips twitched and laughter bubbled up his throat.

Jason stared at him silently for a moment, chewing his lip, before giving a firm nod and jerking his hands free, sitting back down in Bizarro’s lap.

The knife was hidden away when he turned back to Damian, and somehow Tim and Steph were still fighting.

“Guys, come on.” Dick grabbed the discarded pillow up and tossed it across the room, hitting Tim in the head. “Jay can’t stay up forever.”

“I can.” Jason turned, propping his head on Bizarro’s shoulder to stare up at him. “I don’t need sleep.”

“You mean you don’t want sleep.”

Jason huffed, turning back around and raising his chin to make it obvious he was giving Dick the cold shoulder. Tim and Steph’s argument was still ongoing, but Damian shoved Dick’s feet aside and slipped off the couch, crouching in front of the bluray player and sliding a disk inside.

Once Damian returned to the couch with the remote in hand, Dick propped his feet back in his lap. Damian made a face but didn’t complain. “What are we watching?”

“Spirited Away.”

It took until the surround sound kicked in on the menu screen for Tim and Steph to notice that their argument was no longer relevant.

Steph shoved Tim in the shoulder and wriggled to get comfortable on the cramped armchair. “I still say you can’t go wrong with Frozen. It’s what all the cool kids are watching.”

“Let it go, Steph.”

Steph grabbed the pillow Dick had tossed over and slapped Tim in the face with it. “Terrible. Simply terrible.”

Tim shoved the pillow away and smirked back at her. “It was amazing and you know it.”

“Shh.” Cass held up a finger to her lips, staring over at the pair with narrowed eyes. “You are no longer entertaining.”

“That’s cold, Cass,” Duke said and mimed zipping his lips when Cass’ stern look was directed at him.

It took a couple more minutes for everyone to settle but under Cass’ watchful eyes they all fell silent, attention shifting to the movie. Less than an hour into it Jason twisted around and climbed up and over Bizarro’s shoulder and onto the couch, wriggling his way over to settle against Dick’s side, squashed between him and the back of the couch.

Five minutes after that and Jason was fast asleep.

***

“Are you coming on patrol tonight?”

Dick shrugged. The rest of the family started clearing out almost as soon as the film was over, as patrol time rolled around. Damian lingered in the doorway as Dick gathered Jason up in his arms to carry to bed. Bizarro remained in front of the television, a stack of movies one one side and a fresh bowl of popcorn on the other.

Jason stirred as Dick shifted him, yawning and sitting back with a soft, aggravated sound at being woken. “I can walk.”

“Okay.” He put his little brother down, keeping one hand on Jason’s shoulder when he wavered on his feet for a moment, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. Dick took his other hand and led him out into the hall. Damian walked backwards to stay out of the way and kept frowning at him. “I’ll probably join you out there later, Damian.”

“Fine.” Damian swung around on his heel and stomped off down the hall, slipping past Bruce as their father came out of the study.

“He emerges,” Dick said, letting go of Jason’s hand as Bruce approached, gait stiff and face pulled tight and severe. It all softened when he looked down at Jason.

“I’m not talking to you,” Jason said, kicking lightly at Bruce’s leg when he was within reach.

“That’s fine.” Bruce’s hand landed softly on Jason’s head, tousling his curls. Jason screwed his face up and shook Bruce off. “Goodnight, Jay.”

Jason made a grumpy sound, but muttered, “Night.”

Bruce’s expression tightened again when he looked back to Dick. “Are you taking him up first?”

Dick nodded. Jason looked between the two of them, a suspicious little furrow appearing between his brows. He stayed silent while Bruce disappeared back into the study and they began walking up the stairs. He stopped suddenly halfway up, scrubbing at his eyes again, little shoulders curving inwards in exhaustion.

“Are you going out?” Jason’s voice had that thin edge of whine to it that Dick had fast recognized as a sign that he was not going to react well to an incorrect answer.

“This is a lot of stairs, little wing,” he said, avoiding the question. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?”

Jason didn’t reply, but he didn’t complain when Dick picked him up and carried him the rest of the way up the stairs. Instead he tucked his head under Dick’s chin and looped his arms around his neck. “I said no patrol,” he muttered.

“You did.” He found himself smiling around this kid a lot, fighting against laughter that would turn Jason into an offended ball of sulk. “When exactly did you become the boss of me?”

“Ages ago.”

“Really? How long ago is that?”

Jason sighed. “A long time ago. When time began.” He gave a muffled grumble and pulled back to meet Dick’s eyes. “1976.”

Dick’s face felt like it was going to split open, trying to keep from smiling. The way his chest was shaking with suppressed laughter probably gave it away. Jason grumbled, tucking his head back down.

Dick turned down the hall towards Jason’s bedroom. The lights in the residential wing of the manor were dim, leaving much of the halls shadowed. “Time began in 1976?”  

“Yes,” Jason replied, because he always committed to his ridiculous stories.

“But Bruce was born in 1973.”

“Bruce wasn’t born.” By Jason’s tone, Dick was an absolute idiot for not knowing this. “He was created by the goblins.”

“What goblins?”

“The goblins.” The words were accompanied by a little huff, and then Jason’s chin landed on his shoulder as the boy yawned again. “‘M tired.”

Dick hummed, rubbing one hand up and down Jason’s back. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

The door to one of the spare bedrooms at the end of the hall swung open and Artemis stepped out. She cut an intimidating figure, even in sweats and loose waves of red hair falling down over her shoulders.

“You could’ve joined us for the movie,” Dick said, opening the door to Jason’s bedroom.

She snorted. “I could also gouge out my eyes.”

Artemis followed them into the room, going immediately to the far window and staring out over the grounds. It made him feel slightly easier about leaving Jason in the manor while they were all on patrol, knowing she would be here.

It took a bit of encouragement to convince Jason that changing was preferable to sleeping in his clothes, but eventually he grabbed his pajamas wandered off to the bathroom to change and brush his teeth.

“The property is secure,” Dick said, watching Artemis as she remained by the window. “You don’t have to stay up all night and guard him. He’s safe here.”

Her head turned slightly, enough to glance back over her shoulder at him. “As long as he does not feel safe, he is not truly secure. I will stand guard over the little one for as long as that takes and not a moment sooner.”

He didn’t argue. Jason was doing better now that he was in the manor, much better than he had been in the tiny motel room in Georgia, but he was still fearful. Fearful and wary in a way that had Dick’s heart twisting up in his chest whenever he saw the tells.

“Thank you,” he told Artemis, as Jason careened back into the room and over to his teammate, leaping at her and tangling his hands in her hair.

“I’ll braid it,” Jason said, actually tugging on her hair so Artemis would look down at him. Dick winced in sympathy because he was hardly being gentle. “I did it good last time, Arty.”

Artemis pried his hands away and pushed him towards the bed. “The last time I let you at my hair you ended up chewing on it.”

“I don’t remember that,” Jason said, climbing onto the bed and under the covers. He looked even smaller, swallowed up in the large bed, pillows piled behind him and a growing assortment of soft toys tucked in on either side. Once he was settled he turned to Artemis, expectant. “Book?”

“You should be sleeping, not reading.”

Jason held a hand out, staring back at Artemis, unblinking.

Dick slipped out of the room while his little brother was distracted, shaking his head with a smile. He closed the door quietly behind him.

The smile fell from his face and he leaned back against the door for a moment, closing his eyes.

They needed to find the Joker.

Soon.

Chapter Text

24 hours until Now

Gotham was quiet. The night was dark and had well set in. Anticipation hung over the city like fog, clinging to every shadow, dogging every footstep. Each morning that dawned without disaster in the night, the tension seeped a little more into Gotham’s citizens.

The Joker had been free for seven days.

In Robinson Park, close to the river, a short, squat little dog the color of dull straw stuck her nose to the ground and shuffled closer to the water. She followed the riverbank for a time, occasionally pausing to stop and sniff the air, one small front paw lifting off the ground and held suspended in the air. She drew closer to the water, paws caking in mud and dirtying the coarse fur that hung from her stout body. Her ears pricked, head cocking to the side as she stood to sudden attention.

The blanket of silence over the city was broken by the sound of high-pitched, yelping barks.

23 hours until Now

“Coventry is all quiet.”

The words came from a figure perched on the rooftop of a building, close to Sprang River. It was on the opposite side of the river from Arkham Asylum, just visible across the water if one looked closely, which Red Robin did every night he swept through the area on what had become a distressingly familiar patrol.

There was a faint crackle across his comm line, before Oracle spoke. “Swing by Gotham U next, there’s some chatter.”

“Probably just a drunken frat party.” It took only a matter of seconds for Red Robin to descend to street level and straddle his motorcycle.

“It’ll be a nice preview for you.”

Red Robin snorted, starting the motorcycle. The engine sounded absurdly loud, disturbing the quiet stillness that had settled over the the area. “Don’t you start, too.”

Oracle’s voice was modified over comm lines to be unidentifiable—clinical and robotic. When Oracle laughed it was always unsettling.

“Stay safe.” It was said regularly, routinely to each of the vigilantes that Oracle monitored, but for seven days it had become a prayer.

Not even Oracle’s web of knowledge had caught the scent of the Joker’s trail.

22 hours until Now

The footsteps that approached from the window were soft but deliberate.

Barbara Gordon muted her microphone and turned around, raising an eyebrow at the slumped shoulders and dark frown that adorned Nightwing’s face. “You’re supposed to be covering the financial district.’

“It’s done.” Nightwing folded his arms across his chest and stared at the floor. His back was straight and he’d unconsciously fallen into what Barbara had always called his ‘leader pose’. It was a defensive posture that always served to aggravate her, as it was usually accompanied by attempts to bullshit her. “It’s quiet. Everything is quiet. I’m just checking in, making sure you’re okay.”

Barbara had known him since he was a small boy and somehow couldn’t fathom how he still believed he could lie to her. “Dick.”

Nightwing’s eyes were hidden by the lenses in his mask, but he tensed all over at the name. Reflex, as Nightwing was well aware that Oracle’s Watchtower was a location secure enough and full of so many secrets that the whisper of his identity slipped unnoticed amongst the rest.

Nightwing licked his lips. “I need to talk to you.”

21 hours until Now

“What do you have?”

Renee Montoya did not jump, startle, or otherwise show any visible signs that she had not noticed the sudden appearance of a black and red clad vigilante on the edge of the rooftop beside her. Nevertheless, her heart jumped painfully in her chest.

There might have been another reason for that, however.

Pursing her lips, she turned around to look at the crouching vigilante, inscrutable behind the mask and symbol of the Bat. “Batwoman.”

Batwoman raised one eyebrow and said nothing further. If her own heart was thudding in her chest just as rapidly as Renee’s, she, too, showed no sign.

“Might be nothing,” Renee said, after several moments of tense, unhappy silence. “Old lady swore that she saw a stray cat running off with an eyeball near the Diamond District. We didn’t find anything, but since the Joker’s been pretty quiet…” She shrugged.

“Eyeballs seem up his alley,” Batwoman said. “I’ll look into it. Thank you.”

Renee watched as the vigilante dropped off the side of the building and grappled away.

“Don’t mention it.”

20 Hours until Now

Gotham City might have been quiet, but the nights of the vigilantes that protected it remained long. Even longer than normal, with the grave air of expectation set over the city since the Joker had escaped from Arkham Asylum. Despite the growing lightness of the sky, most of Alfred’s charges had yet to return home, leaving him in quiet solitude in the kitchen. Well, aside from one very special charge.

“Good morning, Master Jason.”

The little boy grinned, all sleepy eyes and messy hair, still in pajamas and with his favorite toy—Sparky the dog—under his arm. He was much smaller than the twelve year old Alfred had first met, but at seven he did not have the frightening fragility that told of time on the streets. Jason yawned and looked around the kitchen. “Where is Mommy?”

Alfred paused, one hand on the tea kettle, and looked back at Jason.

Jason’s brow furrowed and he shook his head, little feet moving him swiftly to Alfred’s side. “Where is Arty?”

“I have not seen her yet this morning,” Alfred said, giving the small child a pat on the head. He was not sure whether the mistake had been a slip of the tongue or an issue with his memory.

Sometimes, Jason’s eyes seemed very old indeed.

19 hours until Now

The early morning fog had given way to a bright, warm morning by the time the last of Gotham’s vigilantes retired, driving through the secret entrance that hid the Batcave. The morning light made the sudden transition to the dark of the cave all the more startling; warmth and the faint breeze replaced by shadows and stale air, with the faintest rustling of bats.

Stephanie Brown parked next to Cassandra Cain and started pulling her armored Batgirl costume off right there while still straddling the vehicle. “If I had gone back to my place I could’ve spent the day desperately studying for the classes that I’m going to fail if the Joker isn’t found soon.”

Cass smiled. “Sleep.”

“I’m a college student, Cass.” Steph finally got off the bike and started towards the showers. “College students don’t sleep.”

Their path to the showers took them right by the Batcave’s lab space. Bruce Wayne was there, writing notes by hand, surrounded by vials full of bubbling, brightly colored liquids. Batman had been on patrol the previous night. When he planned on sleeping, neither of the girls knew.

Steph looked back at Cass. “How are you handling it?”

Cass glanced back towards Bruce and shrugged, keeping her silence.

18 hours until Now

The trees that decorated the grounds of Wayne Manor were filled with birds, singing early morning song that filled the air, audible even within the immense manor, behind its impressive walls. If there was ever a sound more grating on a sleepless mind than birdsong, Artemis had yet to hear it.

“Arty!”

She turned away from the window to regard Jason, sticky hands and pajamas all, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Do not even think about coming near me like that.”

“Like what?” Syrup was smeared at the corners of his mouth. His tongue darted out to lick at it. “Alfie made pancakes.”

“Joy.” Artemis swept the length of her hair up and twisted it around itself several times, typing it up into a loose knot at the back of her head to keep it free and clear of sticky little boy hands. She wondered if her little sisters ever been so messy, but perhaps her hair had just not been so long back then to tell. “Who is watching you today? Bizarro?”

Jason shrugged, distracted by licking his hands, made quite delicious by maple syrup.

“Little one.”

He looked up. “Biz is going on his quest again today.”

“He spoils you,” Artemis said dourly.

She was sure the only reason the boy had yet to ask for something more troublesome like a country was simply because he’d not yet thought of a reason he wanted one. Once he did, whatever country he picked was fairly doomed.

“Come. We need to find you a babysitter.”

17 hours until Now

“Where’s Richard?”

Tim Drake blinked awake and sat up, staring blearily over at the door to his room, which had swung open under the force of Damian Wayne’s righteous indignation. “Uh, what?”

Damian clicked his tongue, giving Tim a once-over while wearing an expression that made it clear just how unimpressed he was with Tim’s question, his appearance, and probably his existence to boot. “He hasn’t come back from patrol yet. I checked his room and he’s not answering comms.”

“Try his cell,” Tim replied, flopping back over and pulling his pillow over his head. The convenience of living at the manor—Alfred, being within running distance of the Cave, Alfred, not having to cook his own food, Alfred—was somewhat negated by the negative aspects—namely, brothers. Tim was not entirely used to having siblings, especially not a little brother like Damian.

Even with the pillow trapped over his head, the sound of Damian typing at his phone was audible.

“Put your phone on silent if you won’t leave.”

“How about I shove it down your throat instead?” Damian gave frustrated growl. “He’s not answering.”

“Give him longer than five seconds, maybe.”

“I’ll call,” Damian said, dismissing Tim outright. He remained standing in the doorway to Tim’s room even as the phone was answered. “Richard? Where are you? You didn’t—I’m not worried, you’re being irresponsible. What would Father s—stop laughing, Grayson!”

“Go away.” The words were muffled against the pillow Tim was desperately trying to resist throwing at Damian’s head.

Damian snorted and started to leave the room, still berating Dick over the line.

“Close the—” Tim sighed as Damian disappeared down the hall “—door.”

He pulled the pillow away to contemplate getting up and closing the door himself, before rolling over in bed and shoving the pillow back over his head in what was likely a vain attempt to get a few more hours of peace.

16 Hours until Now

Late mornings normally found Wayne Manor quiet and still, the residents either fast asleep or off the property entirely, fulfilling their non-nocturnal commitments. A small child putting the household through tests of adequate childproofing was not completely unfamiliar, but it had been a long while since a child this young had graced the old halls with small footsteps and bright laughter.

The childproofing was not enough to stand against a bright and curious seven year old.  

This meant that Duke Thomas, instead of spending his morning reading in the library, instead found himself trailing along after Jason Todd. The boy carried a soft, plush dog in one hand and had the fingers of the other shoved in his mouth, absently chewing on them as he roamed the halls, all but ignoring his current babysitter.

He had tolerated Duke’s supervision for twenty minutes before anxiousness took over and he scurried off in search of one of his more preferable caregivers.

“Arty is sleeping,” Jason said, looking over his shoulder at Duke. His fingers slid out of his mouth and he started chewing his lip instead. “We can’t bother her.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Duke had never even considered talking to the Amazon, in fact, as Artemis was over six foot tall and frankly less approachable than Batman. “What about Bizarro?”

Jason shook his head. “He is continuing his quest.”

The room Jason was taking them to ended up being Dick Grayson’s and it was empty of the man himself, which pleased Jason not at all. The second he spotted the sheen in the boy’s eyes that meant oncoming tears, Duke knelt down and awkwardly pat Jason on the shoulder.

“Well, even if biggest brother isn’t available, I could take you to one of your other siblings?”

“They’re not siblings,” Jason said, sniffing and rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t remember any of them.”

What, exactly, Jason remembered of his adult life Duke didn’t quite know. Jason certainly never seemed particularly surprised when it was mentioned, but was cagey whenever anyone asked him about it.

“You must remember Tim, otherwise why would you dislike him?”

Jason paused, giving one last sniff and looking at Duke with an expression just shy of self-righteous. “No. He’s just a gremlin.”

Duke didn’t laugh, but only just. “What?”

“He is.” Jason was insistent, brow furrowed and arms crossed over his chest. “One day I will fight him in battle and then vanquish him.”

“I think that’s assault,” Duke said. “I’m pretty sure a court of law will not take ‘he’s a gremlin’ as an excuse.”

“I’ll prove it.” Jason turned and scurried to the desk in the corner of his brother’s room, snatching up some paper and a pen. “I will draw you a diagram.”

Duke sat down on the floor as Jason ran back and tumbled into his lap, immediately starting to scribble away at the paper.

“See, I will start with his hair…”

15 Hours until Now

The chime over the door rang as a large man entered the small, cramped little store. Shelves loomed high and pressed close, making the man walk slowly and carefully towards the counter. The lights were low and dim, and not a speck of dust touched a single surface. The place was old, but very well cared for.

An old, stooped man was behind the counter and glanced up. His name was Warren Smith and he normally did not get customers that looked like linebackers in his store. “Hello, there. Can I help you?”

Warren’s customer nodded, a pleasant smile on his face, somewhat at odds with his otherwise imposing presence. Unlike Warren he did not have a name in the traditional sense—bestowed upon him at birth by parents—and if Warren had been wearing his glasses he may have been unnerved by the unnatural pallor of his guest’s skin.

The large man was called Bizarro and he was on a very important mission for a very important person. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over to Warren and waited patiently while the old man squinted down at it.

Warren huffed a laugh. “Well, I’m not sure we have one that you’re looking for, but the soft animals are down the back.” He pointed further into the store. “Let me know if you need any help.”

Bizarro nodded, took the piece of paper back, and carefully made his way down to the back of the store.

14 hours until Now

If anyone in the meeting thought that Bruce Wayne’s expression was unusually dour, they were not stupid enough to comment on it.

Nor was the pen he tapped against the table at regular intervals mentioned, or the fact that for the last fifteen minutes of the meeting he stared blankly out the window.

Lucius Fox followed him back to office, handing over a summary of the talking points for the meeting. “I’m not sure why you bothered coming, Bruce.”

“Neither am I,” Bruce replied, tilting his head in thanks and tucking the notes away to read later when he was more...focused.

The Joker had been at large for a week, quiet as a mouse, and there was a little boy running about the manor that may or may not be connected. Bruce hoped not. Jason had already been hurt enough by the Joker to last several lifetimes.

There was a picture frame on his desk, one Bruce continued staring at long after Lucius had taken his leave. The picture was of a young boy, laughing at something off camera. The boy in the photo had died, and Bruce had thought him lost forever. By some miracle he had been given a second chance, and slowly but surely Jason had made his way home.

Bruce could not lose him now.

13 hours until Now

Cass’ search had started when Duke had run up to her, wide eyed and worried, a frantic energy making his movements jerky and uncoordinated.

“I can’t find him,” he’d said, and despite the few hours of sleep she had gotten, Cass had never felt more awake.

Small Jason was very good at hiding. It would be a fun game—if they were playing.

She found him outside, following Titus around the property, one hand tucked in the dog’s collar.

“Good boy,” she told the dog, giving him a pat on the head. She looked down at her brother. “You left Duke.”

“I left a note,” he said, but his darting eyes told her he was lying.

“You did not.”

He glared up at her. There was no fierceness or anger to it. His body was full of sulk. It was cute, Cass decided. She held out her hand.

Jason stared at it, turning his nose up.

“Hand,” Cass said. “Or carry.”

“You’re too short to carry me.”

A challenge, then. Cass swept him up before he could attempt to dart away, swinging him in a circle until his sulk turned into giggles. When she started carrying him back to the manor he clung to her and started to chatter, too fast and quick. He didn’t seem to mind her silence.

By the time they were back at the manor he was relaxed in her arms. He was cute. Innocent.

Cass had been this small when she had killed for the first and last time. She wondered what that said about her.

She wondered what that said about David Cain.

12 hours until Now

“Two homicides, three muggings, and one sighting of a cat carrying an eyeball.” Renee slapped her files down on Jim Gordon’s desk. “You’d think with that crazy fuck on the loose people would have the sense to stay indoors or something.”

Jim took a sip of his coffee, wincing as he scalded his tongue, and then put the mug down with a sigh and grabbed the folders. “Please tell me you’re joking about the eyeball.”

“I wish.”

Jim flicked through the top file, grimacing. Even with the threat of the Joker looming, Gotham wasn’t exactly calm and peaceful by any means. “Did you get an update on the Declan murder?”

“Waiting on tox screen results.” Renee shrugged. “Coroner thinks it was a heart attack.”

“A natural death?” Jim snorted, tossing the file down and leaning back in his chair. “We should be so lucky.”

Renee lingered at the door. “He’s planning something big, isn’t he?”

“You expect me to know how that lunatic thinks?” Jim stared down at the files that littered his desk, thought about the lack of progress the entire GCPD and Batman and his kind had made over the last week. “It’s definitely not good, Montoya.”

Jim could only hope they were ready for the fallout, whatever it was.

11 hours until Now

Dick Grayson walked through the front door and made it all the way to the second floor before being accosted by a sibling.

“You’re finally back.”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Damian at the bottom of the stairs, scowling up at him. “I slept some at Babs’ place, what’s up?”

“You did not mention it on the phone,” Damian replied. “We were expecting you sooner.”

“‘We’?”

“Oh, thank God.” Duke appeared from down the hall. Jason struggling under his arm, complaining loudly. “Take him, please.”

Dick blinked as Jason was all but shoved into his arms before both Duke and Damian fled the area as quickly as possible. His eyebrows shot up and he looked down at Jason, adjusting the child in his arms. “What did you do to them?”

“I had fun,” Jason said. He threw his arms around Dick’s neck. “You’re back!”

Dick laughed, hugging his brother close. It was probably the happiest Jason had ever been to see him in his entire life. “I’m back.” He set Jason on his feet and ruffled his messy hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here this morning when you got up. Sleep okay?”

Jason shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “I’m bored.”

For all that Batman was prepared for anything, the manor was not exactly equipped to deal with a seven year old. Even Jason’s old room, preserved as it was from before his death, was the room of a teenager, not a young child. The old PS2 hadn’t lasted past Jason’s thirteenth birthday, and Jason had never bothered replacing it with anything.

“Let’s see if we can dig up something,” Dick said, leading Jason off towards his own room. “I think I have an old Gameboy somewhere…”

10 hours until Now

Ill-equipped the manor and its residents might be for a seven year old, but at the very least Jason would not be running out of clothes any time soon. Alfred raised an eyebrow at a particularly bright and colourful t-shirt he pulled out of one of the many bags that had arrived with Jason and his team.

For the foreseeable future there was no point making the poor boy live out of bags, not when the drawers and closet of his room were perfectly adequate and barely used. Jason had long outgrown the clothing he’d left behind in the manor and he’d not yet become comfortable enough to bring much of his own possessions in.

Alfred’s eye caught on the soft toys that littered the bed. The young Jason, it seemed, had no such qualms.

Sorting the clothes would take some time, but the longer task was still ahead. Jason had hated clothing tags at twelve with a passion and the seven year old had already taken it upon himself to mutilate several items to rid himself of them.

He looked back at the t-shirt he’d just set aside. Perhaps he would take the opportunity to get rid of a few of the more...garish items.

9 hours until Now

The voices were audible before Damian even reached the door to the bedroom. With a growl, he barged into the room and glared at his older brother, who was sitting on his bed, propped up against the headboard with Jason at his side.

The child didn’t look up from the device in his hands, which emitted a low quality, faintly tinny music.

“You were supposed to be in the Cave half an hour ago,” Damian said, biting back anything further with a wary eye on Jason. He was even more volatile in his shrunken state than normal and the crying was the worst of it.

“Sorry,” Dick said, quirking an eyebrow at the look on his little brother’s face. “I’ll be down in a bit, promise.”

“We may as well wait until after dinner.” Damian scowled down at his feet and turned to leave the room.

He wanted to be bitterly resentful of Jason taking up all of Dick’s attention, but it was unbecoming of him at his age and ridiculous besides. It was only a temporary ailment and soon enough Jason would be back to normal with the only thing to show that anything had happened being the copious amounts of blackmail material the rest of the family was gathering.

“Damian.” Dick patted the side of the bed on his free side. “Come play Pokémon with us.”

Damian paused, looking back. “That sounds infantile.’

“Your face is infantile.” Jason’s words were muttered, his eyes not lifting from the game in his hands.

“Jay.” Dick nudged the boy in the shoulder and then looked back over at Damian, patting the bed again. “Come on, Damian.”

Damian hesitated briefly before joining them on the bed.

8 hours until Now

The Cave was bustling with activity as Batman and his family of vigilantes prepared to go out to scour the city for any sign of the Joker and his plots. Tim had mostly lost track of the coming and goings of the others, and only took note of the newest arrival because frankly it was hard for any of them not to stare at Jason at the moment.

“Should he be down here?” he asked Batman, pointing to where Jason had clambered up to sit at one of the workbenches. It was covered in a multitude of parts. Someone—Steph or Cass, Tim vaguely remembered—had confiscated them from some thugs down by Port Adams. They hadn’t had a chance to do much more than puzzle over them briefly.

Batman looked over his shoulder, catching sight of Jason and pulling the cowl off his face with a grimace. “Jason, get down from there.”

Jason, either influenced entirely by his normal personality or being a seven year old, ignored Bruce completely. He picked up some of the parts and started to put them together.

“Tim, take him upstairs,” Bruce said, shaking his head and turning back to the computer, giving the screen far more of his attention than it truly deserved.

Tim stood for a moment and wondered how pathetic it would be for him to refuse and explain that he didn’t want to be bitten by a seven year old again. Too pathetic, he decided, and walked over to the workbench to hover over Jason’s shoulder. “Hey, Jason—” he stopped, staring at Jason’s quick little fingers and feeling something twist in his throat “—is that a bomb?”

Jason spun the device in his hands—how he’d put it together so quickly, Tim hadn’t a clue—and shrugged. “I dunno.”

Very carefully, Tim reached out and took the device out of Jason’s hands, wary of both it and the little boy holding it.

“Hey, Bruce? You’re gonna want to see this.”

7 hours until Now

It was with decided unease that Dick put on the Nightwing suit that night, movement rough and jerky with suppressed emotion.

“You seem upset.” Tim hovered nearby, watching Dick get ready. They were supposed to be patrolling together, but Nightwing was tense and unhappy and he did not think he would be fit for company.

“He’s down here for five minutes and puts together a bomb,” Dick said, a dark mutter as he sent an irritated look over towards Bruce. “Why was a bomb just left out in the Cave, anyway?”

The question was rhetorical, but Tim answered anyway. “We didn’t know it was a bomb. Not until he put it together.”

Dick gave a gusty sigh and hung his head. “When I watch him he plays Pokémon. He comes down here and he’s building bombs.”

“I don’t think we can child-proof the Cave.”

A snort, and then Dick was marching over to where Batman was standing, waiting for them to assemble.

“You’re distracted.” Bruce gave him a once-over. “Stay in tonight if you can’t get your head together.”

Dick might have been offended if the suggestion weren’t so tempting.

“I’m fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest and turned away, ignoring Bruce as the rest of the family slowly assembled.

6 hours until Now

Artemis sat in a chair by the window, cleaning her axe and watching over her sleeping charge. The axe had not seen recent battle, but the habit was hard to break and she particularly liked the way that Batman stilled on the threshold of the room when he noticed it in her hands.

He was not Batman, strictly speaking, at the moment, but Artemis felt no need to differentiate his identities.

“Should you not be out leading your flock?” Artemis twitched her hands and let the axe disappear. Only then did Batman’s eyes slide away and move to stare at the sleeping boy instead.

He did not move closer to the bed, simply remained staring at the boy from a distance as he slept, peacefully undisturbed by nightmares.

For now.

Artemis expected Jason to wake several times during the night. The nightmares still haunted him, if a little less severely here, surrounded by family.

Batman turned away to leave the room again, pausing very briefly as Artemis summoned her axe again, before disappearing out the door, shutting it softly behind him.

“What good does it do to visit only while he sleeps?” she muttered, casting a glance over at her charge to ensure he was still doing just that. Jason slept on, undisturbed for now.

Artemis turned her attention back to her axe. It would surely be another long night.

5 hours until Now

By the time Alfred had finished everything he needed to do in the manor and made his way down to the Cave, it was empty save the quiet chatter of the comm line, playing back at the computer. It was always left on when they went on patrol, to allow him to monitor them with ease.

It also had the benefit of making the empty Cave just a tad more bearable.

Tonight though, Alfred was not monitoring the comms with much attention. Instead, he made his way directly to the lab space and, making sure that he stayed well away from Bruce’s notes and work on the magical mishap that poor young Jason had fallen into, Alfred began to set up the needed ingredients and equipment to produce the anti-toxin to the Joker’s foul concoctions.

Bruce and the children were all carrying a small amount, but they were not fully stocked, and the unusual silence from the deranged clown spoke of something calamitous.

The Joker had never been predictable, but he had also never been quite so...quiet and out of sight.

The entire family were running themselves ragged looking for him, and it was the least Alfred could do to ensure that they remained fully stocked and prepared for any eventuality.

Particularly considering who they had upstairs, sleeping and vulnerable.

4 hours until Now

“A body was just found in Grant Park.”

Batgirl and Black Bat stopped on the next rooftop, exchanging glances. Batgirl put one hand up to her earpiece to activate it. “Thanks for the heads up, Oracle. Black Bat and I have got it. We’re only a few blocks north.”

“Keep me posted.”

It only took them a few minutes to cross the rooftops and reach the small park. Grant Park was just large enough to be peaceful despite the heavy traffic of the nearby highway, but tonight the area was awash with blue and red lights and activity as the scene was cordoned off by police. One of the officers looked up as the two vigilantes approached. For the last week the amount of cooperation between the GCPD and Gotham’s local vigilantes had been better than ever. “Doesn’t look to be Joker related. Guy just keeled over on a park bench.”

“This is a lot of police tape for a natural death,” Batgirl said, eying the yellow tape blocking off a large section of the park.

“Can’t be too careful,” the officer replied. He glanced back towards the small crowd surrounding the body. “Besides, initial ID has this guy as one of Penguin’s.”

“We’ll take a look around,” Batgirl said.

The officer shrugged and turned away.

Black Bat started off towards the bushes near the body. Batgirl sighed and followed.

“Never a dull moment.”

3 hours until Now

Arkham Asylum was under intense scrutiny since the Joker’s escape. The security system was checked, double-checked and then overhauled despite the official cause of the Joker’s escape being put down to ‘human error’. That Batwoman could sneak into the facility with nary a problem made her wonder if they shouldn’t just demolish the entire place and start again. She had timed her visit to the asylum well, not a soul crossed her path on her way to the cell she was looking for.

“Hello, Harley.”

Without the makeup and the outfit, Harleen Quinzel looked completely normal. She was awake, staring up at the ceiling. Her gaze shifted to the door, meeting Batwoman’s gaze. Her eyes were dulled, perhaps with whatever drugs they had her on. “Have you found him yet?”

“No,” Batwoman replied. “That’s why I’m here.”

Harley laughed, thin and humorless. “Oh, you won’t get anything out of me. He never tells me what he’s planning.” Her foot twitched restlessly.

“You seem anxious.”

“Do I?” Harley laughed again, more amusement in her thin, scratchy voice. “You think I’m the only one?” She leaned up slightly to look at Batwoman through the small gap in the cell door. “You seem pretty on edge yourself, Batchick.”  

Weren’t they all, Batwoman thought dourly.

2 hours until Now

“Y’know, I didn’t have to come in so soon,” Duke said, sitting down behind the computer in the Cave and starting up the systems he needed to act as support for the rest of the night. “The thirteen year old is still out there.”

“The thirteen year old is on his way back,” Batman replied. “He’s just doing a last circuit on the way and while you’re staying up on the computer, he’s going directly to bed.”

When the click of Damian’s tongue against his teeth came audibly over the comms, Duke laughed.

“Father—”

“No.”

Duke was familiar with the Batcomputer’s systems—he was practised at playing support for Batman by now and got the feeling that the other partners that Batman had taken over the years were far more used to having a more active role at all times.

Oracle always gave Duke access to her cool toys and that made the slight boredom of being stuck in a cave while Batman was out kicking ass worth it.

When Damian did arrive, Tim was trailing in his wake.

“You too?” Duke asked, grinning.

Tim shed his mask and shrugged. “Night’s pretty quiet out there. I’m gonna take a look at some of the open cases and see if anything comes to me.”

Duke swivelled the chair around, keeping one eye on the computer. “Good luck. You’ve been at it for a week now.”

Tim sighed, staring over at the board he’d set up to pin his work to. “Yeah. We have to be missing something.”

1 hour until Now

The loosely gathered group of thugs were outfitted with clown makeup that signalled their allegiance to the Joker. They stood near the pier in Rogers Yacht Basin, just south of Amusement Mile, the area the Joker favored for his hideouts. The men were talking loudly, arguing with each other, and didn’t notice the shadows along the top of one of the boathouses begin to move, creeping closer.

When Nightwing and Black Bat descended, leaping amongst the group and taking down three men between them in the space of a moment, panic overtook the remainder. Of the ten men still standing, only one thought to bring up his gun and aim it at Nightwing and he found himself disarmed moments later as Black Bat swept his feet out from under him and sent him crashing to the ground. The gun went flying and the man stayed on the ground, dazed from landing on his head, as Black Bat moved on to the next.

It was all over in minutes.

Nightwing hauled one of the thugs up. “Y’know, it’s interesting. We don’t find hide nor hair of you guys or your boss for nearly a week and suddenly you’re having meetings out in the open like this? It’s practically an engraved invitation.”

“I don’t know anything!” The man shrugged futilely, flinching away as Black Bat came closer. “None of us do!”

One of the downed men groaned, propping himself up and pointing feebly. “Say nothing, idiot! They’re Bats!”

“We don’t know where the boss is,” the first man said, ignoring the warning as Black Bat somehow loomed over him despite the height disparity.

Black Bat frowned, turning and nodding to Nightwing, who threw the man on top of the other, and tapped a hand to his comm to let Oracle know about the thugs.

She waited until they were perched back on top of the boathouse, watching the police collect the thugs, before speaking. “They were confused.”

Nightwing nodded, staring down at the men with a frown. “Yes. They were.”

Now

“Commissioner.”

Jim blinked, looking up from the files he’d been reading and squinting at the door, where Renee was backlit by the hallway lights. His office was shrouded in darkness, with only the desk lamp to help him read. It was late, too late really, but he was still here in his office, instead of at home, where he would be restlessly not-sleeping and waiting for the moment that chaos erupted over Gotham.

Paranoid might have been an appropriate label, if Jim hadn’t lived in Gotham for long enough to know it was simply being realistic.

He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “What’s happened?”

Renee’s face twisted several which ways, before she grimaced and swallowed. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

She led the way, Jim following on her heels and feeling a bubbling apprehension. He had worked with Renee a long time, her reaction was not one he was familiar with.

He was concerned.

Renee led him down to the coroner’s office, where the medical examiner was waiting. There was a small dog, muddied and unhappy, locked in a cage in the corner of the office.

“She’s relevant to the case,” the medical examiner—Michael Ruiz—said, clearing his throat. “The lab techs were taking some swabs.”

“Why?” Jim asked, as Michael covered the dog’s cage with a blanket as it started barking.

“She’s the one who found it.” Michael beckoned for them to follow, leading them into the morgue.

Jim glanced at Renee.

“Dog was fished out of Finger River, after it got swept out.” Renee folded her arms as they stopped at one of the gurneys. There was a light blue surgical cloth covering something, but it was far too small to be a body. “Witness said they saw the dog burying this in the mud on the riverbank.”

“Burying what?” Jim asked, with a deep sense of foreboding.

Renee nodded at Michael, who pulled the cloth back.

On the table was a human arm.

Jim took a sharp breath.

The skin was chalk white.

“Maybe the reason the Joker’s been so quiet isn’t because he’s planning something,” Renee said, as Jim continued to stare at the arm. “Maybe he can’t plan anything, anymore.”

Chapter Text

The Bat-Signal was alight.

Batman frowned, staring up at where the light shimmered against the cloudy sky. It was late enough and the night was quiet enough that he had considered returning to the Cave. The comms had been mostly silent for hours, bar the occasional status update from the few still patrolling.

“You answering that?” Batwoman’s voice was dull and tinged with the exhaustion that they were all feeling after seven days of long nights and fruitless searching. It was one reason that Batman had sent the younger ones in early despite the need to locate the Joker as soon as possible.

They would need their rest; another crisis waited back at the manor. It was just another in a long list of ways he’d failed Jason that Batman prioritized hunting down the Joker over fixing whatever magic had transformed him.

“I have it,” Batman said, abandoning the Batmobile and taking to the rooftops. He was only a few short blocks away from the GCPD headquarters, and it was a familiar path he took to get there.

Jim Gordon was waiting next to the Bat-Signal, glasses in his hands as he wiped them down with a small grey cloth. He looked up when Batman landed on the roof. “Batman.”

Batman straightened up. “Is this about the Joker?”

It took a few moments for Jim to answer, as he finished cleaning the glasses off and slid them back onto his face. Then, with a sigh, he nodded towards the door that led inside. “There’s something you need to see down in the morgue.”

He clenched his jaw, nodding stiffly and following as Jim turned and led the way. A mix of apprehension and anger twisted in his gut. Another life lost to the Joker. If only they had found him sooner…

The hallways of the building were clear. Batman did not often venture any further than the rooftop or Jim’s office, but it had happened on a few occasions. Always late at night when few were around and those that were cautioned very strongly against coming near.  

As they made their way closer to the morgue, the sound of a dog barking became audible, higher pitched and sharper than the deep reverberating barks of the police dogs.

Jim led him into the morgue, where the medical examiner was waiting beside one of the tables.

“Show him,” Jim said, nodding towards an object on the table, covered by surgical cloth.

Before Batman could even puzzle over it, the cloth was pulled back and he caught sight of what was under it.

“It was found on the bank of Finger River,” Jim said, as Batman stared at the chalk white arm, mind racing. “Dog was trying to bury it.”

“Crime scene?”

“Contaminated,” Jim said. “I have Montoya on it but not sure anything useful will crop up. The arm was probably tossed in the river.”

“I’ll send one of my people,” Batman replied. “DNA test?”

“Underway.” Jim cleared his throat. “I assume you want to run your own?”

A high-pitched bark echoed through the morgue.

“The dog, it’s here?” Batman asked, turning towards the direction of the sound coming from the coroner’s office.

“A stray,” Jim said. “We’re taken swabs from it, but it looks like it just picked the arm up at the river.”

“I’ll take the samples for the DNA test,” Batman said. “And the dog.”

***

The dog—a Cairn Terrier, by the looks of it—was either noisy by nature or took great exception to confinement. Even throwing a blanket over the cage only turned it to making sad little whimpering noises for ten minutes before it transitioned to long, mournful howls.

The acoustics of the Batcave meant that once he had the dog on a table to take the necessary samples it entertained itself by barking, listening with a cocked head to the echo, and then barking again.

Bruce had taken the Batman suit off as soon as he’d returned to the Cave and he was glad for it. It meant that he could easily pinch the bridge of his nose to try and ward off the headache that was starting to pound behind his eyes.

“Father, I—”

Bruce turned to see Damian approaching, eyes fixed on the dog. His son’s hair was ruffled like he’d just woken up. “What are you doing up?”

“I woke up,” Damian replied, stepping past Bruce to hold his hand out to the dog. “Why do you have a dog down here?”

Bruce opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by a thump coming from the direction of the stairs leading to the manor, and then a small, childish voice.

“A puppy!”

How, exactly, did Jason keep managing to sneak down to the Cave despite their best efforts?

Bruce intercepted the boy before he could reach the dog, swinging him up into his arms and setting him on his hip. The lack of the batsuit at least meant that Jason didn’t put up a fuss, just looped one arm around the back of Bruce’s neck and stretched his other hand out towards the dog.

“I want to touch the puppy, Bruce.”

The dog seemed to want it too, judging from the way it stood up on the table, tail wagging furiously and leaning towards Jason’s outstretched hand. Damian remained at its side, scratching it behind the ear.

Giving into inevitability, Bruce brought Jason close enough that the boy could reach the dog. Jason gently pat the dog on the head, looking delighted.

“Does she have a home?” Damian asked, and the question was anything but a casual inquiry.

Bruce needed to head this off before it got too far. “No, Damian.”

“No?” Jason paused, turning to look at Bruce. “That means she’s mine.”

Momentarily thrown off, Bruce blinked down at Jason. The boy frowned back at him. He knew that frown. The first time he’d ever met Jason the boy had worn that frown before hitting him with a tire iron.

“You can’t have the dog, Jason,” Bruce said, glancing at Damian to make sure he understood it extended to him as well. “She’s involved in a case. Once I get the samples I’ll take her to a shelter and make sure she gets a good home.”

Damian scowled at him.

Jason’s eyes got very big and very watery. “No! She’s mine.”

Faced with their twin displeasure, Bruce looked between them and the dog. The dog looked very pleased with itself.

“She’s very small compared to Titus,” Bruce said, even as he felt the inevitability of having to explain their newest acquisition to Alfred set in. “He might hurt her unintentionally.”

Damian looked supremely unimpressed with his argument.

Jason took his hand away from the dog and slapped it over Bruce’s mouth with a long-suffering sigh. “You’re being stupid, I’m not listening to you anymore.”

Well, if he’d had any doubts about the boy being Jason before this, they were long gone now.

“Has she had water?” Damian didn’t wait for an answer, disappearing off towards the nearest sink.

Jason wriggled in his arms, reaching out for the dog again. Bruce set him on his feet, shaking his head and turning his attention back to getting the samples he needed as swiftly as possible before the dog was abducted up to the manor.

She was quiet now at least, cocking her head this way and that as Jason stood next to the table, petting what he could reach of her and chattering, flitting from one topic to the next faster than Bruce could follow, only paying half attention.

Damian returned with a bowl of water, putting it down in front of the dog, who started gulping it down. It got Bruce another accusing look from his son. “What case is she connected to?”

Bruce let his gaze slip very deliberately over to Jason and tapped a finger to his lips. Damian scowled but let it go.

“What’s your name?” Jason asked the dog, quite seriously. When she did not divulge this information he turned to Damian. “She needs a name.”

Damian nodded, turning to give the dog a thoughtful once over. “Clytemnestra is very elegant.”

Jason stared at Damian for a moment. “I don’t think you know how to name dogs.”

Damian scowled, folding his arms across his chest. “What’s wrong with Clytemnestra?”

Apparently not prepared to dignify the question with a response, Jason turned back to the dog. “Your name is Nessie.”

“That’s the name of a sea monster!”

“It’s a dog name,” Jason replied. “Right, Nessie?”

The dog barked happily.

“She likes it.” Jason pet her on the nose and shot Damian a triumphant look.

Damian scoffed. He turned to Bruce. “When will you be done with the samples?”

Of course.

Bruce collected the remaining samples swiftly, under the watchful eyes of the boys, and then finally, after taking a sliver of the mud that caked the dog’s paws, lifted her off the table and set her on the ground. She immediately started for Jason, but lifted one of her back legs, hopping along to get to him. Her tail continued to wag enthusiastically, even as both boys looked up at Bruce accusingly.

“She hurts!” Jason threw his arms around the dog and sat right down on the floor, hugging her close and no doubt getting mud and dirt all over himself.

“Why is she injured?” Damian bent down to examine the leg. The dog patiently let him, not making any sounds of pain as she licked at Jason’s face.

“She was in a cage,” Bruce replied wearily. “I didn’t notice she was injured because she wasn’t walking. It must have happened when they pulled her out of the river.”

Jason sniffled, which was when Bruce realized he’d started crying silently, burying his face in the dog’s fur.

“Jay,” he said, a little helplessly. “She’ll be okay.”

Jason got to his feet, wrapping his arms around the dog’s middle as much as he could and trying to lift her up off the ground. He didn’t get very far, but the dog at least must have been used to children or extremely placid, for she made no sound of protest despite the awkward handling. Jason turned pleading eyes on him. “She has to come upstairs, Bruce. She needs a bath and a bandage.”

“She likely needs more than a bandage,” Damian said, reaching out taking the dog, hefting her up much more securely into his own arms. Jason let him do it with a pout. “I will call our vet and arrange a visit.”

Jason’s lip wobbled as Damian started for the stairs and there was a telling hitch to his breathing. Bruce swept him up into his arms and followed after Damian, rubbing at Jason’s back. He hoped it would be enough to calm him; it used to be, back before...

“She’ll be fine,” he said, climbing the stairs after Damian, who moved slowly and carefully with his burden, always so gentle with animals.

It was as they were entering the manor, the study lit only by a lamp on the desk, that Bruce was sharply reminded that it was not yet five in the morning.

He frowned down at Jason. “What are you even doing awake? You should be sleeping.”

Jason rubbed at his eyes with one hand, wiping away tears. “I slept. Then I woke up.”

Bruce wondered if he had been woken by nightmares again, but didn’t press the issue.

The dog would at least serve as an excellent distraction for him, while Bruce gathered the rest of the family together to inform them of the...latest developments in the Joker case.

***

“Oracle.”

The screen of the computer lit up with Oracle’s green symbol as she connected. A second later her voice, filtered through her modifier, filled the Cave. “What do you need, Batman?”

“You have access to the GCPD’s files on the arm?”

“They’re here,” she replied. “I’ve been busy all morning looking into our other priority case, though. Nightwing brought over the notebook he found from the scene.”

Bruce frowned. He’d only taken the briefest of looks at the notebook before moving on to begin analysis of the samples themselves. The book had been written in code or some kind of shorthand, and he hadn’t the time to decrypt it. Barbara was certainly the best one to do that. “Have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet, still working on it. I digitized it if you want a copy of the files.” A file transmission began even without his acknowledgement. “Nightwing said you hadn’t taken much of a look at it yet so I figured you’d want a copy.”

“I do.”

Oracle laughed. “He went over your head, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” It happened occasionally these days, when they worked together. It threw him, but he wouldn’t bring it up with Dick. There was always a good reason and if he hadn’t been so laser-focused on finding the Joker he probably would have sent the book to Oracle himself. “I need you to switch over to the arm, for the time being.”

Oracle’s symbol remained on screen, a blank and eerie face. She finally answered a moment later. “Your DNA test result came back, didn’t it?”

“It’s a match.” Batman tapped a few buttons on the console to send the files across for Barbara to look at herself. She probably needed to. “Preliminary examination of the arm indicates that it was severed post-mortem.”

“You’re not ready to call it, are you?”

“No,” Batman replied. “I assume you aren’t, either.”

“Not until they have the rest of him down in the morgue.”

“Keep an eye on what the GCPD discover. I don’t want to lose time on this.”

“They’ll probably call you in themselves, but you got it.” Oracle cleared her throat. It was a strange sound when distorted by the voice modifier. “I’m going to keep working on this book as well. How’s the little guy?”

Exhausted. Fragile. Traumatized. “As well as can be expected, under the circumstances.”

“Send me through the results of your tests on those liquids. I’ll take a look.”

“Thank you, Oracle.”

When Oracle cut the connection, green symbol disappearing and leaving the Cave once more in silence, Bruce sat back in his chair and sighed. It was after ten in the morning and he could finally afford to go upstairs and get a few hours sleep.

His muscles were stiff from working most of the morning at the computer and his eyes felt gritty despite the shower he’d taken soon after getting the dog and Jason settled for the morning.

Instead of going straight from the study to his bedroom, he detoured to the den—the last place he’d seen both boy and dog.

Jason was still in there, curled up in Dick’s lap and crying. Damian sat next to Dick on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and laptop set in his lap. The dog was nowhere to be found.

“What happened?” Bruce frowned as Jason sniffled miserably into Dick’s shirt. His face was red like he’d been crying for a while. Dick had his head tilted back against the couch and looked mostly asleep, despite the hand that was running up and down Jason’s back. He pried his eyes open and tensed up when he saw Bruce approaching the couch.

Damian looked up from the laptop with a frown. “Nessie is currently in surgery.”

“What if they put her down?” Jason turned watery eyes on Bruce. “Bruce, she’s not coming back.”

“You are being ridiculous,” Damian said, saving Bruce from awkward attempts to calm Jason down.

He hated it when Jason cried. Always had. He hated it when any of them cried, but Jason had been prone to it, one moment yelling at him in anger and the next dissolving into sobs that never failed to make Bruce feel like he was the worst human being alive.

The boy on Dick’s lap shared that much in common with the twelve year old Bruce had known. Jason sniffed, calming down enough to attempt to kick Damian in the head.

Damian grabbed Jason’s foot and dragged him off Dick’s lap by it, pointing with his other hand at the laptop screen. “Look, I will show you exactly what the vet is doing.”

“Damian—” Bruce stopped speaking when Jason sat up straight and clambered over into Damian’s lap. The laptop was hastily lifted into the air to stop it from being knocked to the ground. Damian looked mildly perturbed but didn’t move Jason away, resettling the laptop so they could both look at the screen. Somehow, Jason seemed even smaller in Damian’s lap than he had in Dick’s, despite being closer to Damian’s size. Bruce sighed. “Nothing too graphic, Damian.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “This is a medical procedure, Father, not a violent television show.”

“Is there gonna be blood?” Jason asked, sounding far too intrigued by the idea.

Dick groaned, lifting his head off the back of the couch. “No blood, please. No blood and no videos of animals in surgery.”

“I’m not scared!”

Damian looked between Dick and Bruce with a furrowed brow before shrugging and turning back to the laptop. “Fine. No video. There are plenty of diagrams to demonstrate the procedure.”

Bruce reached over, tapping Dick on the shoulder and nodded towards the door. His eldest gave the two boys another glance before slowly getting to his feet, shoulders slumped and eyes drooping, and following Bruce out of earshot.

“What’s up?”

“Go to bed, Dick.”

Dick cast another long look back at Damian and Jason, clearly reluctant to leave. He had been picking up Bruce’s slack where both were concerned—Damian for a considerable time.

That was what Dick had always done, for better or worse.

Bruce reached over, grabbing Dick by the shoulders and turning him forcefully around to face the hall, giving him a nudge to get him started. “Go. Bed.”

“Go to bed,” Jason said, in a childish echo.

Dick's tense shoulders relaxed slightly at Jason's words. “Fine, fine, I know when I’m not wanted.”

Bruce watched Dick’s back until he trusted he was actually going upstairs before turning back to the boys.

“It’s called a luxating patella,” Damian was saying, reaching around Jason to point at the laptop screen. “It’s generally genetic and a pre-existing condition. They likely aggravated it when they pulled her from the river.”

Jason pouted. “Can we sue them?”

“Unlikely,” Damian replied. “We were not her owners at the time so even a stupid lawyer would get the case tossed out.”

Jason’s mouth screwed up, thoughtful, and Bruce sensed that the next suggestion was going to be a lot more violent.

He should probably head that off. “Jason.”

The boy looked over, eyes sliding towards the computer screen before focusing back on Bruce.

“Damian is going to watch you for a bit,” Bruce said, when he finally had the boy’s full attention. “Can you be good for him?”

“No.”

Well, it was his fault for asking, he supposed.

Damian seemed to agree. “That was a foolish question, Father. Of course I will be fine with him. Even if he is a crybaby.”

“You have a fat head,” Jason replied, twisting around and poking Damian in the cheek, laughing when his brother pushed his hand away and scowled at him.

“Alfred is around if you need anything, or you can wake someone,” Bruce said, ignoring Damian rolling his eyes and Jason mimicking the move three seconds later.

“Goodnight, Father.” Damian’s words were pointed, his attention already back to the laptop.

“It’s day,” Jason said, giggling at the annoyed look Damian shot him. As ever, it seemed to please him to rile Damian up. That much hadn’t changed.

Too much had.

***

“Bruce.”

His mind was drifting, clinging to unconsciousness and the promise of rest, resisting the pull towards wakefulness.

“Bruce.”

Bruce grunted, kept his eyes firmly closed and tried to grasp that peaceful state.

Something poked him in the nose.

He pried his eyes open to find Jason’s face about two inches from his own. “Jason?”

Jason leaned back, looking pleased with himself. “Good! You’re awake.”

God, he didn’t want to be. His eyes were still gritty and his head ached in warning of too many nights neglecting proper rest. A glance at the clock on the bedside table told him he’d managed barely half of what he’d planned. The urge to bury his head under the pillow was strong. Instead, he pulled himself halfway upright, propped on one elbow. “What’s wrong, Jay?”

“Nothing,” Jason replied, tone bright and practically chirpy.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Something had to be up. “Who’s supposed to be watching you?”

“Biz was, but he was tired so I’m letting him sleep.”

Of course he was letting Bizarro rest.

He had a fleeting urge to tell the boy to go find Dick, but his eldest was probably still asleep and he wasn’t going to open himself up to the endless jokes Dick would make about Bruce needing more rest because he was getting old.

He was getting old, but he didn’t need his children rubbing salt in the wound.

“Where’s Damian?”

“He’s going to get Nessie.” Jason pouted. “Alfie said I couldn’t go.”

“Alfred is always right about these things.” The very idea of Jason off the property in his current state was enough to jar him all the way from drowsy to alert. “Are any of your siblings up?”

“I did go see Dick first, but he told me to come bother you.”

“Hn.” So he had Dick to blame for this after all.

The doorknob rattled as his eldest took that moment to slink into the room, hands held up placatingly and face twisted into a grimace. “I’m sorry, Bruce. Come on, Jay, I told you I was joking.”

Jason gave his older brother an unimpressed look. “Your jokes are bad. It was more funny to do it.”

Bruce let his head flop back down on the pillow as Dick grabbed Jason around the waist and lifted him off the bed.

“Yeah, it’s funny, but we gotta let the old man get his rest, okay?” Dick carried Jason off towards the door, laughing at the disgruntled growl Bruce let out. “Bruce is getting on in years, Jason. Might have to take him out to pasture soon.”

“How old?”

“He’s got to be like fifty by now.”

“Out!” Bruce rolled over, glaring at his laughing children. He narrowed his eyes at Dick. “I’m writing you out of my will.”

“Go for it,” Dick replied, with just a hint of bite to his words that told Bruce he was still on edge. “Even better idea—you should leave the company to Jason. He’d actually like arguing with the board and all the lawyers.”

Jason swung his feet, dangling from the arm that Dick had around his waist. “I would. I like arguing with everyone.”

“We’re aware.” There was a spark of amusement in Bruce’s chest, overwhelming the crippling worry that had crowded his heart since Jason’s accident. “Get out, both of you. I’m old and need my sleep.”

They were still laughing as they left.

Bruce sighed, checking the clock again. If he didn’t have any more disruptions, he might even feel human again by the time the alarm went off.

***

Whatever peaceful rest Bruce managed to get was in vain.

In the end it was the dog that inspired the first real display of Jason’s temper. Someone who had never met Jason before the Lazarus Pit might have attributed his tendency towards destructive rage solely to its influence. Even Bruce, at times, could admit to looking through rose-tinted glasses at the child that he’d lost.

Jason had been a sweet boy.

Jason also had the temper of a fire-cracker packed with dynamite and set off inside a nuclear reactor. Adding gasoline to that didn’t actually make much difference—maybe it burned a little brighter, a little longer.

In retrospect, Jason had been remarkably calm and even-tempered for the first few days since the incident that had turned him into a small child.

Maybe he felt safer with his family surrounding him, now he’d become more familiar with them. Maybe getting actual rest, no longer constantly exhausted and overwrought, had given him the energy to bother kicking up a fuss.

Or maybe it really was just the dog.

“Jason, get out of the tree.”

Jason, face red and angry, did not get out of the tree. “Or you’ll do what?” He said, a challenge that Bruce would not take him up on.

He wasn’t an idiot. This was familiar. Jason was perfectly happy to call any and all bluffs made against his self-righteous tantrums and had always been eager to make himself a completely miserable ball of put upon sulk just to teach Bruce some kind of lesson.

What the lesson was, probably even Jason didn’t know. There had been more than one occasion that his prolonged sulking had outlasted his anger and his memory of whatever it was that Bruce had done to set him off.

“I hate everything and I’m staying up here forever,” Jason said, crossing his arms and staying thankfully stable enough on the branch he’d picked that he didn’t topple over.

All of the fuss was over the dog, returned from the vet and dopey on the lingering effects of anesthesia, not being allowed on his bed. There had been a few sound, reasoned arguments made, but Jason would not hear them. For Jason, it was the end of the world and torture to the dog to boot.

Bruce just wanted to go down to the Cave and get some actual work done, instead of coaxing a small, angry boy out of a tree as if he was a prickly cat.

He was tempted to turn around and leave him there, waiting Jason out until he got bored, but while such a tactic might work on Dick (had, even, on several notable occasions), Jason often behaved as though built from spite and would quite literally stay in the tree all night and make himself sick and then give Bruce dark, accusing looks for a solid week afterward.

It was not the first time that Jason had held himself hostage in a tree.

“You have three seconds,” Bruce told him, as Dick approached from the manor. The rest of the family had long since made themselves scarce once Jason’s angry screaming had started.

As much as it rankled, Jason’s teammates might have proven useful, but the Amazon appeared to have turned herself nocturnal and Bruce had yet to spot her around the manor until night had well fallen, and the clone had never emerged from his guest room after going for the nap that Jason had so graciously allowed him.

Up in the tree, Jason made faces at him as Bruce started to count.

Dick stopped at Bruce’s side long enough to wink up at Jason before taking a running start and scaling the tree like it was a piece of gymnastics equipment.

“No!” Jason shrieked as Dick reached his perch, rolling himself right off the branch in an attempt to flee. Dick snatched him out of the air and dropped to the ground, setting Jason on his feet.

Dick flashed a grin as he straightened. “So we got a ramp for the bed.”

“What.”

“For the dog.” Dick ruffled Jason’s hair. “So she can get up and down from the bed safely.”

“There were other reasons,” Bruce said, even as Jason brightened like his bad mood had never existed. “And I’m fairly sure the very detailed list of instructions Damian recited said expressly ‘no stairs or climbing’.”

Dick shrugged. “We decided that she’d be good for Jason. Artemis is going to lift her up and down when needed. Nessie’s going to need to be confined to a room anyway, might as well be Jason’s. The ramp is for emergencies so she’s not tempted to jump off.”

“I won?” Jason asked, looking between the two of them before letting out a whoop and running for the manor. “I’m gonna find Nessie!”

“This is what spoiling a child looks like,” Bruce said, watching Jason run away.

Dick snorted. “So what? We’re turning him back to normal as soon as possible, aren’t we?”

“That’s not the point.”

“There’s no harm spoiling him while he’s like this; hell he could probably use it. Besides, you’re the one who said he wasn’t even real.”

Bruce clenched his jaw and took a very slow, deep breath through his nose, then let it out just as slowly. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s not an ambiguous sentence, Bruce.” Dick shrugged, starting back towards the manor. His movements, normally smooth and practiced, were jerky and stiff, the only tell that he was not as calm as he appeared on the surface. “I called Zatanna for you, she’s coming around tomorrow. I figured you were probably still too distracted by your thing with the Joker to get around to it.”

He drew himself up to his full height, locking his knees so he wasn’t tempted to follow, only standing his ground. “Dick.”

Dick paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Something had to have set this off. It didn’t feel like one of their normal fights.

His son’s face twisted into a grimace. “I’m—” he pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath “—I’m sorry. I’m just on edge.”

“Is it the Joker?”

Dick laughed, voice slightly choked. “Not everything is about the Joker, Bruce.” For a moment, Dick’s face looked terribly drawn and old. “Just—once you’re satisfied that he’s really dead, maybe prioritize a little.”

“I can’t just ignore—”

Dick shook his head, a sharp motion, and turned away, starting back towards the manor. “Just a suggestion, Bruce.”

Bruce watched him go, jaw clenched and indignation swirling through his chest like fire.

Chapter Text

It became apparent by patrol that whatever was bothering Dick was part of a larger issue and not limited to Bruce. He was tense and snappish, only reigning himself in for the benefit of his youngest siblings. Damian, at least, picked up on the tension. Jason seemed oblivious, but Bruce suspected willful ignorance on his part.

Bruce had decided to leave his eldest well enough alone, as the last thing they needed amongst the current crises was another cold war between them, but he abandoned the notion as he came out of his bedroom that evening to find Dick and Artemis having a standoff in the hall.

“What’s going on here?” He looked between the two of them. The axe was nowhere in sight and the Amazon’s face was impassive. Dick was tense, but didn’t seem angry.

Perhaps Bruce wasn’t the only one Dick was fighting with about how to raise their temporary child. Jason had all but flung himself at Artemis, after all, clinging to her as a mother figure. He thought it likely that if Artemis hadn’t been there to fill the role there would have been far more of a fuss put up about Catherine’s absence.

Jason still seemed to swing between awareness of her death and expecting her to show up at any given moment. Those moments were decreasing in frequency.

Bruce didn’t want to consider what that might mean.

Dick and Artemis continued staring each other down. Then, lip curling into a small sneer, Artemis pushed past Dick’s shoulder and started down the hall towards Jason’s room.

“Nothing’s going on.” Dick’s eyes followed Artemis until she disappeared inside the room before he met Bruce’s gaze and scowled. “What?”

“You’re with me tonight,” Bruce replied, on a whim, turning in the opposite direction and starting down the hall. It took a few moments before he could hear Dick’s footsteps following him.

“I’d rather stay in with Jay.”

“Jason has enough babysitters. He’s going to be sleeping.”

“He still has nightmares.”

“Less, now.” Bruce glanced back over his shoulder, meeting Dick’s eyes. “And he has the dog with him.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “How’d I know that would come up?”

“Because you know me about as well as I know you.”

Silence fell between them as they made their way down to the Cave. The tension had eased, enough that Dick’s shoulders loosened and he went to get changed into costume without further argument.

Now Bruce just had to get the rest of them in order.

“Damian.”

The boy looked up from where he was slipping his boots on.

“You’re with Batgirl tonight.”

If Damian was disappointed, he didn’t show it to Bruce. Not quite the same thing as not being disappointed at all, but Damian had been running off to the Teen Titans or Jon Kent whenever he got the chance. Patrolling with his father didn’t seem to be high on his list of priorities these days.

Duke was over by the computer, in costume but looking hesitant now that Bruce had dismissed Damian for the evening.

“You’re with Black Bat,” Bruce said, moving past him to sit in front of the computer, bringing up his files to skim through.

“Oh, cool.”

Bruce heard Duke’s footsteps move away, over to where Cass and Stephanie had been getting ready. Placing Damian and Duke with the girls for the evening also meant they would essentially be run by Oracle for the night.

It freed up Bruce’s attention to focus on other things.

One of those things being Nightwing, who approached the computer five minutes later, right back in the foul mood that had only been getting worse over the last few days. He twirled one of the escrima sticks in his hand and tapped it against his leg. “I can meet you out there, if you need more time to get ready.”

“No.” Bruce stood up from the computer. “Keep an ear on the comms. Oracle should be sending through files from the GCPD soon. Look over it before we head out.”

Nightwing stood for several moments, poised and tensed, before sighing and sitting down in front of the computer and slumping in the chair. “I’m not a child, you know. You can stop trying to order me around any time.”

Bruce walked away, deciding that silence was preferable to the words that immediately came to mind; that Dick might not be a child, but was certainly still Bruce’s child. He didn’t think Nightwing was in the mood to be pleased to hear it.

***

They patrolled in silence.

Maybe talking would help Nightwing deal with whatever was wrong with him, but in many ways he took after Batman, ways that neither of them particularly liked, and they knew each other too well to need to talk about the job.

Working with Nightwing required less investment, more of Batman’s attention available for other things. It was almost relaxing.

By the time half the night was through, Nightwing’s irritable mood had bled away, leaving him loose and calm and unleashing quips on unsuspecting thugs. Batman was sure it was only a short-term fix.

But it did mean that when Batwoman swooped down from the rooftops, as they were tying up some of Penguin’s men near the wharf, they could both turn their full focus to the evidence she’d brought along with her.

“Why do you have an eyeball?” Nightwing asked.

The eyeball—human by the looks of it—was in a plastic snaplock bag, held in one of Batwoman’s gloved hands.

“I’m glad you asked, nephew.” Batwoman’s lips pulled into a smirk as Nightwing crossed his arms and pulled a face. “Last night I got intel that a cat was spotted with one. GCPD couldn’t verify, but the Joker being who he is they passed the information along. After the arm was discovered I dedicated a little time to it, and found this. It might be connected.”

Nightwing’s lips pursed. “Are you going to hand it over to the GCPD?”

“No need.” Batwoman tossed the bag over. Batman snatched it out of the air. “They already have the other one.”

“Where did you find them?” Batman turned the small bag over in his hands. The eye color seemed correct, but the Joker’s eyes had always been filled with an intensely deranged spark. The eyeball in his hand was dull. Even the Joker’s madness was unlikely to persist after death but—

He had to be sure.

“Diamond District,” Batwoman said. “Just south of the park.”

“That’s close to the river.” Nightwing leaned over towards the eye. He examined it for a moment before looking between Batman and Batwoman. “Has the GCPD found anything else?”

Batwoman’s shoulders twitched into a shrug. “They’re still scouring the river, last I heard. They’ve found some...parts, but I stopped checking for updates hours ago. Maybe the Joker is mad enough to cut his own arm off for a trick, but good luck to him pulling off his schemes without his eyes.”

“We can’t be sure they’re his, yet,” Batman replied.

“So match them.” Batwoman pulled out her grapple and saluted them lazily. “I hear you have more important things than a dead supervillain to worry about at the moment.”

She grappled away without waiting for a response.

Nightwing hummed, an amused sound. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

“No, she’s not.”

It was a concession that earned him further thawing in Nightwing’s demeanour.

Batman was determined to remain cautious, but it was looking more and more likely that it was not a trick, another one of the Joker’s grand plans. The Joker had escaped death, escaped retribution from his victims, escaped Arkham time and time again.

Perhaps that luck really had run out.

***

The eyes were a match.

The torso was soon found near Dixon Docks in the southeast, a leg off the shore of Blackgate Island. By the time the other arm turned up just off Aparo Park in the north, they still had no primary crime scene.

Batman had sent Nightwing off to join up with the others and returned to the Cave to examine the eye and run more tests. Oracle had been sending files from the GCPD with more frequency, and they all required looking into. He kept the comms open on the computer to monitor the others.

“Was someone really just wandering around Gotham with the Joker’s dismembered body in a backpack and tossing the parts out into the river like the world’s creepiest scavenger hunt?” Batgirl asked, when the other leg turned up near Tricorner Yards. “Because I can get behind that. Not that I in any way advocate for dismemberment.”

“I do, when it’s the Joker,” Oracle said. “Foot was just found near Miller Harbor. Depending on where the parts were dropped and how long ago, they might have washed this far apart naturally.”

“They’re finding them faster now,” Red Robin said. “The search area was widened after the eyeballs turned up, but even the GCPD doesn’t have enough people to efficiently comb all the waterways of Gotham. Maybe they were dumped recently.”

“I think you’re underestimating the enthusiasm for finding the Joker dead and dismembered,” Batgirl replied. “They’re going to have to announce it soon. Surely people have noticed something is up.”

“It’s Gotham,” Batwoman said. “There’s always something up.”

Batman cleared his throat. “What hasn’t been found yet, Oracle?”

“I think—yes, we’re just missing the head and the other foot, now.”

“Hnn.” Batman flicked through report after report on screen. “Does the coroner have a cause of death yet?”

“Stabbed through the heart.” There might have been some relish to the words, but it was hard to tell through the voice modifier. “Judging from the wound, we’re looking for a pretty decently sized knife or a sword as the murder weapon.”

“Are the League of Assassins in town?” Red Robin asked, bemused. “Sounds like a hit to me.”

Black Bat made brief sound of denial. “They would display him.”

“Anyone would want to show off,” Robin said in a low mutter. “How many have tried and failed to kill him?”

“A fair few,” Nightwing replied with a laugh that was on the far side of cynical.

Batman sat back, pulling up a map of Gotham on the screen. “Turn your attention to finding the primary crime scene. It might be too late to do much good, but it’s all we have to go on. Focus on south of Finger River for now—it’s where most of the parts turned up.”

There was murmured assent over the comms.

“Are you coming back out tonight?” Nightwing asked.

Batman glanced at the clock. It was after one in the morning. “No. Zatanna will be by in the morning, I’ll sleep. Remember to send Robin in.”

“I remember his curfew, don’t worry.” There was a crackle that meant Nightwing had muted his comm.

The Cave was steeped in silence for only a few moments before Oracle opened a private line.

“Are you ready to call it yet?”

“Almost.” Batman sighed, steepling his hands under his chin. “Are you?”

“God, I want to.”

“The head?”

Oracle sighed. “Yes. The eyes should be enough but...it shouldn’t be long now. Once they have everything—it’ll finally be over.”

Maybe once he was well and truly sure, there would be relief. Maybe if they didn’t have another crisis to deal with right after, it would be a joy to know the Joker couldn’t hurt another person and was finally, truly dead.

Until then, the heavy weight of apprehension remained.

***

It was rare that Batman suffered outsiders in the Batcave. Rarer still to do so during daylight hours. Zatanna Zatara was an exception to both, even if their relationship had been strained in recent years.

“I’m glad you weren’t too stubborn to call me in on this.” Zatanna stood beside him, waiting for Dick to return from upstairs with Jason, who would not tolerate being separated from his dog without a fuss.

“This is for Jason,” Bruce replied, and he was Bruce, standing next to a fully costumed Zatanna in sweats, in deference to Jason’s preferences. “We don’t have access to the original magician any longer.”

He was not happy about that for any number of reasons.

Zatanna glanced over towards the lab, quirking one eyebrow and pointing towards the beakers of liquid Bruce had spent days analyzing. “Are those the samples you mentioned?”

Bruce nodded. “Do what you like with them. I’ve exhausted all the tests I can run on them.”

The results had proven...confusing, mostly just confirming what they already knew; the liquid was magical in nature and couldn’t be adequately explained with science.

Picking up the closest beaker, Zatanna squinted at it, head tilting to one side as she examined it. “You said that the guy who made it was using the magic on human organs?”

“Regenerating them to sell on the black market. The spell wore off within days.” Bruce clenched his jaw. “But not for Jason, obviously.”

She pursed her lips, turning the beaker from side to side. “Well, it’s an ugly magic, I’ll say that for it.”

“Can you break it?”

“I’ll have to see how it’s interacted with living tissue first.” Zatanna put the beaker down and cleaned her hands off with the hand sanitizer kept on the lab table. “This is a form of necromancy. It was never intended to be used on a living person.”

Bruce crossed his arms over his chest, a heavy weight settling in his gut like lead.

By the time Dick came down to the Cave, Jason wrangled and tossed over his shoulder and Alfred following behind, the weight in Bruce’s gut was accompanied by a sense of foreboding and a nagging regret.

He should not have postponed calling in Zatanna. He should have set aside the hunt for the Joker the second that Dick had informed him of Jason’s accident.

Dick settled Jason on one of the gurneys in the medbay, hovering at his shoulder. Alfred stood to the other side, observing.

Zatanna approached Jason with a warm smile. “Hello, Jason. I don’t think you remember me.”

Jason’s gaze flicked between the adults surrounding him and Bruce, standing further back, before focusing on Zatanna. His jaw was set high and stubborn. “I feel fine.”

“We’re just making extra sure.” Zatanna leaned over so they were more or less eye level and held out her hand. “I’m Zatanna Zatara.”

Jason chewed on his lip for a long moment before glancing at Dick and then reaching out to take Zatanna’s hand. “Your name sounds fake.”

She laughed, reaching out so she had one hand on either side of Jason’s head. “I’m just going to take a quick look, okay?” When Jason nodded, she gently placed her hands against his skin.

Bruce stared between them, barely daring to breathe. Jason began to fidget two minutes in, calmed by Dick, before he finally jerked away at the five minute mark, scowling and pouting.

Zatanna leaned back and smiled at him. “Thank you for staying so still for me.” She straightened up and backed away, gaze sliding to meet Bruce’s eyes. The smile slipped off her face. Bruce felt like every muscle in his body tensed up in response.

Nothing was said between them until Alfred collected Jason, helping him off the gurney and gently directing him back upstairs to the manor. Dick stayed rooted to the spot, glancing between Bruce and Zatanna, the tension that had eased out of him during their patrol the night before gathered back and hunching his shoulders.

Once Bruce was sure that Jason was safety out of earshot, he turned to Zatanna. “What’s wrong with him?”

Zatanna was stroking her fingers over her chin, staring off to the side of the Cave. At his words she pulled her hand away and grimaced. “That magic...it’s the most volatile mess of a spell I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly shocked he survived being hit with it.”

Dick jerked back, hip hitting the gurney. “What—How could it be that bad? He seems fine.”

“He’s been very lucky.” Zatanna’s gaze snapped to the beakers. “Keep him away from those—actually, get rid of them entirely, they won’t do any good.”

Dick’s expression was growing alarmed. Bruce felt the weight of lead in his gut spread through his limbs, weighing him down and making it harder to breathe.

“Zee,” Bruce said. “Can you fix this?”

“Fix?” She shook her head. “Bruce, I can’t touch this. If the guy who did this was around I wouldn’t let him, either. He was clearly insane, putting that together. It’s beyond me.”

“And what do you suggest I do for my son?” Bruce asked, clenching his fists.

“Keep him away from anything magical.” Zatanna sighed, rubbing at her temple with one hand. “You can’t see how volatile it is, Bruce. You’re lucky he’s still alive, and I can’t promise that it will remain stable. The magic could break at any moment.”

“Wouldn’t that be good?” Dick asked. “Break the spell, Jason goes back to normal?”

“His body might go back to normal, but he’s just as likely to die outright.” She grimaced. “The most likely result is both.” She looked up at Bruce, eyes soft and pained. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I’ll keep looking into it, see if I can find someone with the knowledge and power to even touch this and not set it off like a bomb—but I can’t promise anything, and I wouldn’t recommend anyone unless I was sure they wouldn't’ do more harm than good.”  

Bruce swallowed, looking away. “And Jason isn’t out of the woods while we wait. The spell could break at any moment and kill him.”

“Yes.”

“What are the chances that it won’t?”

“I couldn’t say.” Zatanna put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Like I said, he’s lucky to be alive right now. I don’t know how it didn’t kill him in the first place, but maybe lightning will strike the same place twice.”

Bruce nodded, remained stiff and tense until she removed her hand. Then he walked to the computer, sitting down heavily. “Thank you. I appreciate you taking a look at him.”

“I’ll keep looking,” Zatanna said again. “And it might stay stable on its own.”

“But you don’t think it will.”

“No. I don’t.”

Bruce nodded, started typing at the computer. “Thank you for coming, Zee.”

In the time it took for Dick to escort Zatanna out and return, the computer was overtaken by new files and research. Dick’s footsteps approached, light and graceful, and then his son’s hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing gently. “We’ll fix it, Bruce.”

Bruce grunted. “You were right. I shouldn’t have delayed.”

“I don’t think calling her sooner would’ve had a different outcome.”

Glancing towards the stairs up at the manor, Bruce slowly got to his feet. His body felt a thousand times heavier than it had before Zatanna had visited. “We lost time. Too much of it.”

He took a step forward and paused as Dick slid in front of him, blocking his way.

“Take a second, Bruce.” Dick reached for his shoulders again. “Before you see him, I mean. You’ll frighten him.”

God. Jason.

“I’ll inform the others before patrol tonight.” Bruce glanced back at the computer, suddenly torn. “No one tells Jason about this.”

“I don’t think there’s much danger of that.”

Bruce frowned. “Make sure the Amazon and the clone understand.”

“They have names,” Dick said, letting go of his shoulders and stepping away. “But I’ll let them know the situation.”

He didn’t notice when Dick left, remaining in the Cave long until the roaring panic in his ears faded away to a manageable level. Then he took one step towards the stairs before pausing, caught between a desire to see Jason and the pressing insistence of his brain that he sit down and figure out how to fix him.

Bruce stayed caught for several minutes before making his decision, sitting back down in his chair and opening a line to Oracle on the computer.

“Oracle. The situation has changed. I’ll need your help on this.”

***

That evening Bruce found Jason with Dick and Damian in the den, watching a movie and surrounded by the manor’s growing collection of animals. If Jason noticed that his older brother had been excessively clingy all day, he didn’t seem bothered by it. Dick could not be pried from his side, and Bruce expected a fight if he wanted Nightwing on patrol that night.

Considering what they had learned from Zatanna, it was tempting to not bother and let him stay by Jason’s side.

The movie on screen was animated, something Disney, Bruce was sure, but Dick seemed to be the only one watching as Damian and Jason were too busy fluffing pillows to make Jason’s dog comfortable and arguing about how objectively fat Damian’s head was.

“My head is completely normal.” Damian’s eyes shot up as Bruce entered the room. “Father, tell him.”

“Damian’s head is completely normal,” Bruce said, sitting down in an armchair and trying not to stare too obviously at Jason, searching for a physical clue of the magic that so threatened him.

“You’re biased.” Jason’s bottom lip jutted out and he abandoned his place next to the dog to go climb onto the couch next to Dick, cuddling into his older brother’s side and shooting Damian a triumphant look. Damian rolled his eyes.

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “How am I biased?”

Jason leaned over so he could see around Dick and sniffed. “You have a fat head, too.”

Dick ruffled his brother’s hair. “That’s rude, little wing.”

“It’s the truth.” Jason’s mouth screwed up as he thought for a moment. “And it’s funny.”

Slightly mollified by the fact that his fat head was apparently shared with his father, Damian turned back to the dog, checking the over the wound and then removing Jason’s stuff toy from the dog’s mouth when she started to mouth at it. Damian got to his feet and tossed the toy to Jason, surprisingly gentle.

“If you leave it with her she will chew it,” Damian said. “We have chew toys for her, but she can’t tell the difference yet. Don’t let her have your toys if you don’t want them ruined.”

Jason screwed his nose up and clutched his toy closer. When Dick nudged him pointedly in the side, he huffed and muttered a grudging, “Thanks.”  

Damian shrugged, looking away and clearing his throat. He focused on Bruce. “I have assignments to complete before patrol.” His lips twitched down in the corners in displeasure. He had loudly protested the need for assignments while he was being homeschooled, but the protests had fallen on deaf ears. Bruce was not going to overrule Alfred, certainly not about Damian’s education, and certainly not on the word of his thirteen year old. Damian glanced back at Titus, spread out on the floor next to Nessie. “Come, Titus.”

Titus stood and obediently followed Damian out of the room. Jason watched him leave and then bounded off the couch and over to Bruce, scrambling up and into his lap. He reached up and pat Bruce on the cheek with one hand. The other was still clutching his toy. “It’s okay, Bruce. Damian’s head is definitely fatter than yours.”

“It’s not nice to say things like that about Damian,” Bruce replied.

Jason wrinkled his nose up. He reached up again and poked Bruce on the nose, less gently this time. “That’s side taking.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “And what did Damian do to you?”

“He called me a crybaby.”

Over on the couch, Dick muffled a laugh against his hand and coughed. Jason’s head jerked around and he narrowed his eyes at his older brother. Before any creative vengeance could take place, Bruce circled one arm around Jason’s waist. Jason tensed, frowning, before slowly relaxing and slumping over, tucking his head against Bruce’s shoulder. When Bruce glanced down, his eyes were on the movie, half-lidded and sleepy.

The couch creaked and Bruce glanced over to see Dick with his phone in his hand, grinning widely. Shaking his head, Bruce let himself relax back into the armchair, just for the moment. The computer in the Cave was working away without him and it was too early for patrol.

He could spare the time, for this.

***

It had been a long time since Batman had managed to go a full debriefing without a single one of the kids interrupting about something. Judging from the solemn expressions, he’d conveyed the dire nature of the outcome of Zatanna’s visit more than well enough.

“I’m removing myself from the Joker case to focus my full attention on safely returning Jason to normal,” Batman said, letting his eyes slide over to where Nightwing was sitting in the computer chair. “I’m passing it over to Nightwing—” his eldest glanced up, a grimace twisting his lips “—and Red Robin.”

Red Robin straightened up, nodding.

Oracle tapped into the comms to give upgrades as one by one they began to leave the Cave to head out on patrol. Batman put a hand on Red Robin’s shoulder, stilling him and waiting until the Cave was clear to speak.

“Keep an eye on Nightwing,” Batman said.

“Am I looking out for anything specific?” The lack of surprise told Batman he wasn’t the only one who had noticed Nightwing’s odd behavior.

“No, not yet.” Batman squeezed his shoulder. “He’s distracted, so watch his back. Let me know if anything comes up.”

“Of course.”

Once the Cave was empty, Batman sat at the computer and turned down the comms that were always broadcasted so anyone who remained at the Cave could monitor patrol, until all he could hear was quiet, reassuring murmuring.

Then, he set to work. Zatanna was not the only magician in the world. There were others with more power, more knowledge of the type of magic that had been used against Jason. But it was not as simple as power. There were few that Batman would trust with his son, especially after Zatanna’s revelation that his state was so delicate. Whatever issues between the two of them, Batman knew that Zatanna had not been lying, not about that—not about Jason.

Footsteps on the polished, sterile Cave floors alerted him to Alfred’s presence. He didn’t look away from the screen. “Is Jason still asleep?”

“Quite contently.”

Finally, some good news. Batman glanced sidelong at Alfred, who lingered just behind him with furrowed brows, a pinched expression of worry on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Considering the rather dire nature of Master Jason’s situation, I had wondered if you had considered any ...alternative outcomes to the ideal.”

It took him a moment, staring at the screen and the pages of research, before it clicked what Alfred meant. “I’m not giving up on him, Alfred. Not again.”

“I was not referring to death as an alternative, sir.”

“I know you weren’t.” What Bruce did not say, would not say, was that anything less than returning Jason to normal was unacceptable. It would be easy, far too easy, to take advantage of the situation and the seven year old’s clear and untroubled affection—but it would not be right. Jason would not want that. The boy upstairs was the result of magic and no matter how much Bruce wanted things to be right with Jason—completely right, like they were before he died—he could not sacrifice how far he’d come with his son over the last several months. He could not lose him again.

Beside him, Alfred sighed, long and deep. A prelude to mourning, Bruce thought, and shut the thought down before it could get any further. “Master Bruce, considering what we have been told...you may not have any option but to accept another solution to preserve Master Jason’s life.”

“I can’t.” Bruce grimaced. “Not yet.”

It was said more to pacify Alfred than of any real consideration. He hadn’t come close to exhausting his options yet. Jason was a ticking timebomb of magic at the moment, and Bruce tried not to think about his son’s time running out on a timer he couldn’t see, because that was familiar in a way that was frightening and made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

He would not be too late this time.

Chapter Text

The Joker’s Last Laugh. The words were emblazoned across the front of the Gotham Gazette. Damian could see the headline from seats away; the paper sat in its customary spot at the head of the table, waiting for Father to arise and peruse it at his leisure. He was tempted to snatch it up and burn it to cinders. He’d seen at least two dozen headlines just like it since the news had officially broken. The GCPD had made the announcement; the Joker’s death was so high profile a leak had been imminent and there was no reason to delay, even if Father was still not completely convinced the Joker was really gone.

Across the table, Stephanie pulled a face, grinning as Jason erupted into childish giggles. The only reason Damian bit his tongue on a scathing comment was because she was at least keeping Jason’s attention on herself, leaving Damian in blessed peace. He’d had the child on his heels all morning, and for whatever reason no one else was around to palm him off on.

“How’d you sleep, munchkin?” Stephanie asked. She had her elbows on the table and her chin propped on clasped hands.

Jason shrugged, standing up on his seat so he could reach over to the other side of the table and snatch another piece of toast from the serving plate. Damian’s lips tightened as he resisted telling the boy to ask for things to be passed to him. Jason was sorely lacking in manners and stubborn besides.

“Damian, have more toast.” The order was accompanied by several pieces of toast being forcefully shoved onto his plate. “We have to feed you lots, otherwise you’ll never grow and you’ll stay short forever.”

Stephanie muffled a laugh in her hand and waggled her eyebrows as Damian turned briefly to glare at her before switching focus back to his temporarily younger brother.

“I’m taller than you,” Damian said and, unable to resist any longer, reached out and grabbed Jason by the arm, tugging him down into his seat. “And don’t stand on the dining chairs.”

“I’m seven, not short.” Jason huffed, kicking his legs. “And I’ll stand wherever I want.”

“You tell him, kid.” Stephanie raised her glass of orange juice in toast.

“This is why you’re not allowed to babysit,” Damian told her.

“I’m not a baby!”

Could’ve fooled him, what with all the crying. Damian ignored the protest and turned back to his food, shoving the extra pieces of toast off to the side and determinedly refusing to look at either of his breakfast companions for the rest of the meal, letting Jason’s chattering and Stephanie’s obnoxious laughter wash over him.

A chair scraping against the floor finally startled him into looking up.

Stephanie gave them a distracted smile and a wave, one hand grabbing her shoulder bag, eyes fixed on the cellphone in her other. “I gotta head off if I’m going to make it to class on time.”

“Good riddance,” Damian muttered, and got hit in the arm by Jason for it. He narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t start fights you can’t win.”

“I’ll win,” Jason said, around a mouthful of toast. “I’ll scream, and then Arty will come and beat you up.”

“She could try.”

Jason laughed. He looked around the table. “Where is Alfie?” His eyes caught on the newspaper, and before Damian could stop him he was up on the chair and reaching over the table again, grabbing the paper and pulling it over, ripping a great tear across the front page as he did.

It was not enough to obscure the headline.

“The clown is dead?”

Damian tensed, realizing quite suddenly that no, not a single person had brought up the idea of telling Jason about the Joker’s death yet. They were probably intending to do it that day, but now Damian had ruined it by allowing Jason to get his hands on a newspaper.

The tears that he was expecting, inevitable like a sandstorm in the desert, did not come. Jason chewed on his lip, reading the article, until the paper was quite suddenly pulled from his grasp.

Pennyworth stood behind them, frowning at the paper.

“I was reading!” Jason pouted up at him, reaching for the paper.

“It’s not appropriate at all,” Pennyworth replied, tucking the paper under his arm.

Damian did not have a good idea of what was and was not appropriate for a normal child, but he supposed that considering nearly everything made Jason cry these days, it wasn’t a stretch to think that dismemberment was probably not appropriate reading material for him.

“Finish your breakfast, Master Jason.” Pennyworth raised an eyebrow as, instead, Jason slid out of his seat.

“I have to go see Nessie!” Jason ducked around Pennyworth and ran out of the dining room, footsteps loud and echoing against the polished floors.

Nessie was spending the morning outside in a small penned area of grass, for a change of scenery that Damian was sure she appreciated. She was still not allowed to move very far, her movement still greatly restricted after surgery.

“I will go watch him,” Damian said, pushing his own plate aside and getting to his feet. “No one else is awake and he listens to me about Nessie.”

“Thank you, Master Damian.” Pennyworth squeezed his shoulder as he passed by. “That’s very responsible of you.”

Responsible, maybe, but it also wasn’t exactly the hardest of tasks. Jason would be with Nessie, who Damian wanted to see anyway.

The pen was just beyond the patio, a small square of grass sectioned off for Nessie. She had water, a toy, and at some point Jason had dragged one of the small, circular plush dog beds outside and put that in as well. He was leaning over the pen, half dangling to reach Nessie and pet her, while she stared up at him and wagged her tail furiously.

Damian was convinced that Nessie thought of Jason as her own puppy, because nothing else explained why a sound, intelligent animal would pick such a noisy and bothersome little creature as Jason to be her favorite person.

He grabbed Jason by the back of the shirt before he could topple over into the pen and injure himself.

Jason glanced back over his shoulder. “Let go, I want to be with Nessie.”

Shrugging, Damian grabbed him around the waist, picking him up and putting him into the pen. Jason dropped to the ground and wrapped his arms around Nessie’s neck. She licked his face.

“We should consider penning you all of the time,” Damian said, jostling the pen softly with one hand. “Since you’re such an annoyance.”

“Your face is an annoyance.”

Damian rolled his eyes.

“And Nessie likes me better.”

He took a deep breath through his nose and narrowed his eyes. “I will climb in there after you.”

Jason grinned. “I dare you.”

***

Somehow Damian ended up sitting on the grass inside a tiny dog pen, with a small brother in his lap and Nessie’s head on his thigh. At least it was nice weather. It was better than sitting in the library and working through assignment after assignment. He told himself that was why he was allowing such undignified behavior.

By the time Richard walked out on the patio and found them, both of Damian’s legs had fallen asleep and even he didn’t know why he hadn’t shoved Jason away yet.

Richard touched one hand to the pen, raising an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you two...well-contained.”

“We’re keeping Nessie company,” Jason said, around the fingers he’d shoved in his mouth and started chewing. Damian would’ve tried to remove them but at least while he was too busy with them he wasn’t speaking or biting Damian instead.

Richard’s expression was soft as he looked at them. It suddenly occurred to Damian that at any point during the morning someone could’ve seen them through the windows and taken pictures.

Damian shifted, trying to lift Jason up and off his lap. “Take him.”

“I like it here,” Jason said, but he let Richard lift him out of the pen and pull him into a hug. When he was set back on his feet he tugged at the bottom of Richard’s shirt. “Dick, Nessie is bored.”

Their older brother glanced down at the dog, still resting against Damian’s leg and fast asleep. “I think she’s fine, little wing.”

“She hides it well.” Jason pressed up against the pen again. “She is very, very bored. I can tell.”

“I think if someone is bored it’s you, Jay.” Richard ruffled Jason’s hair and then cast a glance back at the manor. His face turned hard for a moment, before clearing just as quickly. “Do you feel like going out, little wing?”

Jason’s head snapped up. “Out?”

“Into the city,” Richard replied, watching Jason intently. His brows were slightly furrowed like he was paying a lot of attention. “Into Gotham.”

Chewing his lip, Jason ran the back of his hand over his nose, shrugging. “The clown is gone?”

Richard blinked. “Yes, he is.” He glanced at Damian, head titled. “I was just getting to that.”

“He saw it in the newspaper,” Damian said, shrugging his shoulders. He gently slid Nessie’s head off his thigh and climbed out of the pen, shaking his legs out to get the feeling back in them. Half of the pen was shaded by one of the bushes that Pennyworth maintained, so there was no need to move her indoors yet. “Where are we going in the city?”

If Richard found it curious that Damian was opting to accompany them, he gave no sign. “It looks like we’re going to need to get Jason some more things, since—” he shrugged, glancing down at Jason briefly “—since he doesn’t have much at the manor that’s suitable.”

“And Father approved?” Damian had been fairly certain that Father would rather cut his own arm off than let Jason off the property—on the other hand, Father was reluctant at times to get too close to Jason, like this. Their relationship remained as confusing as it had ever been.

Richard smiled. It had more teeth than joy. “Eventually.”

Father and Richard had been fighting more often, recently, frequent spats that were resolved almost before Damian noticed they were happening. It seemed different to their normal conflicts, and he could tell that the others thought them unusual as well. Jason, of all of them, seemed unbothered by the tension, but perhaps he was oblivious to it.

“I want more books!” Jason raced off ahead of them. He stopped at the doorway, turning back and frowning at them as he waited.

“His reaction to the news of the Joker’s death is underwhelming,” Damian said, falling into step beside Richard.

“I’m surprised,” Richard replied, “but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. Little guy’s been through enough.”

Pennyworth was waiting inside, with a small coat hung over one of his arms.

“I don’t need that,” Jason said, but allowed Pennyworth to wrestle him into it with only token protests and scowling.

Damian glanced up at Richard. “When you say that Father approved…”

“We argued, I said he was welcome to try and stop us.” Richard shrugged. “It was three against one.”

“Three?”

“Arty! Biz!” Jason escaped Pennyworth’s grip and ran for the stairs as his teammates came down. Both were dressed about as inconspicuously as one could expect for a giant clone of Superman and an Amazon warrior, which really wasn’t inconspicuous at all.

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Are you really sure this is a good idea?”

“He’s not actually any safer kept locked up.” Richard took the keys Pennyworth offered with a grin. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“I took the liberty of installing a booster seat into the GLS,” Pennyworth said.

Jason’s whole body froze and he turned to stare at them with wide, betrayed eyes. “A what ?”

Damian made a valiant effort not to smirk or otherwise show his amusement, because it would surely prompt tears or a tantrum and Richard would give him that disappointed look that always made his stomach crawl.

“I don’t need a booster seat,” Jason said, all enthusiasm leeching away and leaving him glaring around at each of them. “You’re being mean.”

“It’s the law, little wing.”

“You’re lying.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “I was a cop, Jay. Do you want me to pull up the law so you can read it yourself?” He slid his phone out of his pocket and waved it.

“Yes.” Jason held his hands out. “I will find the loopholes.”

So absorbed was Jason in scrolling through the law on the phone that he barely noticed when Richard picked him up and carried him through to the garage, where one of Father’s larger, less conspicuous cars was waiting for them. Damian pushed ahead and made immediately for the passenger seat, climbing in and doing up his seat belt. If someone wanted him to move to the back he was fully prepared to fight them for it.

The car shifted under Bizarro’s weight as he entered, sitting in the far back of the vehicle, and taking up nearly all the space. Artemis followed, sitting a row forward beside the booster seat and raising an eyebrow at Damian when she spotted him looking. He scowled back.

Getting Jason strapped into the booster seat took an impressive five minutes—Damian was counting—and involved tears, protests and Richard nearly getting kicked in the jaw. Once he was finally settled Jason sulked and clung to the phone, still searching for the elusive loophole that would free him from his indignity.

It wouldn’t matter, anyway. Damian already had several photos on his own phone of the indignity and had uploaded them to the cloud to ensure their survival.

“Wait!”

Cassandra appeared beside the car just as Richard was reaching to close the door. “Coming too.” She scrambled in to sit on the other side of the booster seat, kissing Jason’s cheek briefly. “Hi.”

“Why are you coming?” Jason asked, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheek and wrinkling his nose.

“Need books.”

“There’s a whole library here.”

“Need easier books,” Cassandra replied, still quite cheerful despite Jason’s relentlessly sulky demeanor.

“Oh.” Jason stared down at the phone in his hands again. “Okay.”

More than likely the real reason Cassandra was with them was due to Father assigning her the role of additional protection for Jason, but Damian wasn’t going to be the one to say it. Even if it didn’t upset Jason, it would surely start another fight between Richard and Father, and Damian decided that conflict between the two of them was to be avoided at all costs.

***

Gotham City was dreary and overcast, but that didn’t stop Jason’s enthusiasm for being out of the manor. Richard captured his hand after freeing the child from the booster seat’s restraints, and Artemis and Bizarro hovered over him like the oddest pair of bodyguards Damian had ever seen. The car might have been less conspicuous than anything else the Father normally drove, but their group was anything but; Damian half-expected reporters and paparazzi to descend the second they started approaching the shopping center.

The Crystal Palace was a few blocks north of Wayne Tower, one of the tallest towers in Gotham, a shining beacon of purple glass.

“Stephanie will be jealous,” Damian said, choosing to walk alongside Cassandra, who hung back from the more conspicuous group surrounding Jason.

His sister shook her head with a small smirk. “No. Not eggplant.”

Ahead, Jason was loudly protesting having his hand held. Richard remained in determined conversation with Bizarro and ignored Jason’s attempts to get free. It was probably the first time he’d refused Jason anything since the entire mess had started. Once they were inside and around the loud crowds of other people, however, Jason was suddenly clinging to their older brother, hiding his face as his odd shyness reared its head again.

Damian drifted over to the window of one of the nearby stores, shoving his hands in his pockets and waiting for a decision to be made about where to go and for someone to extract the recalcitrant child from Richard’s side.

“Damian!”

He looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched, to see Jason pointing over at him, eyes tearing up. He clenched his jaw against the annoyance that bubbled up. “I didn’t do anything.”

“He just wants you close, Damian.” Richard finally bent down and scooped Jason up, letting him wrap arms and legs tight around him and cling like a baby marsupial.

Damian scowled, but came back over to stand at Richard’s side. “I’m not helpless.”

Richard gave him a fleeting grin before looking down at Jason. “Where should we go first, little wing? Clothes?”

“I have clothes.” The words were muffled against Richard’s shirt, where Jason had his face buried. “Biz got them.”

“You’re going to need more.” When Jason didn’t so much as twitch in response, Richard gave a thoughtful hum. “What about the bookstore?”

Jason’s head came up so fast it nearly collided with their older brother’s chin. “I want all the books.”

“You can have some books.”

“The whole store.”

“You haven’t even read everything on your shelves yet.”

Jason wrinkled his nose. “So? I’m saving them for the right time.”

Damian suspected that he didn’t want to admit that he was lacking either the capability or attention span to engage in most of his books—likely the whole reason Richard suggested the bookstore in the first place. Jason was being read to more than he was reading himself since he’d been shrunk, and his tastes were certainly running...younger.

“Alright, so bookstore and then clothes?”

Jason shook his head. “No clothes, I have enough. Bookstore and then another bookstore.”

Artemis stepped forward. “One bookstore and Bizarro will get you more clothes, and you do not complain about a single item he gets if you don’t like it.”

“Deal,” Jason replied. “But you’re not allowed to go with him, Arty, ‘cause you’ll make Biz get something awful that he would never get normally because Biz has good taste.”

Artemis arched an eyebrow. “And I do not, is that what you’re saying?”

“You have better taste than Dick,” Jason said, patting Richard on the cheek. Damian smirked at the long-suffering expression on their brother’s face. Jason sighed. “But that’s not saying much.”

“Ouch.” Richard shifted Jason in his arms, freeing one hand to pull his wallet out, handing it over to Damian. “Grab one of Bruce’s cards for Bizarro?” Damian grabbed the wallet and rooted through it, pulling out one of the credit cards. Richard tweaked Jason’s nose. “You should be nicer, little wing. Or you’ll come out of the bookstore without any new books.”

Damian snorted and handed the credit card over to Bizarro. At Richard’s raised eyebrows he shrugged. “You spoil him.”

“I do not.”

Jason laughed. “Damian, too.”

“Wow, why are you ganging up on me?” Richard glanced over at Cassandra. “Cass, help me out?”

“You do not spoil me as much,” Cassandra said. She frowned. “I demand more spoils.”

“Spoils of war?” Jason pointed at Artemis. “Arty could take you into battle. She fights monsters, it sounds fun.”

Cassandra looked intrigued. “What kind of monsters?”

“Bookstore,” Richard said, with a glance at the large clock hanging in the foyer of the shopping center. “If we’re even a second later than Bruce is expecting us we’re gonna have a bad time.”

“Me back later.” Bizarro waved, clutching the credit card in his other hand, before turning and ambling off towards one of the elevators.

“Is it really wise to give him free reign?” Damian asked, frowning as the clone left. He was staring down at the card with a worryingly reverent expression.

Richard started off towards the bookstore, linking his free arm with Cassandra and tugging her along beside him. “He’s not banned from certain stores like you are, Damian.”

“They acquired those puppies from mills,” Damian said, trailing in his siblings’ wake. Jason propped his chin on Richard’s shoulder and poked his tongue out at him. Damian pulled a face right back. “I was acting as a concerned citizen.”

“That doesn’t explain the hamsters.”

Damian rolled his eyes. Why did his brother always have to make a big deal out of nothing.

“He does have a point,” Artemis said, and it took Damian several moments before he realized she was agreeing with him and not with Richard about the hamsters. “I will go and make sure that Bizarro does not get carried away.”

Jason did not look happy, but he barely had time to start fussing about it before Artemis was striding off in Bizarro’s wake.

***

Damian followed Cassandra as she perused the coloring books. There was a small stack in his arms that he suspected would be gifted to Jason. Damian didn’t know how he’d ended up roped into carrying things for her, but it kept him free and away from the whirlwind that was Jason, so he didn’t particularly care.

Cassandra held up two coloring books, one in each hand. “Which for Steph?”

Damian glanced from one to the other and shrugged. “Both.”

“Both.” Cassandra nodded and added them to the pile.

They were in a quiet corner of the store with no one around. Damian shifted the books in his arms and moved closer to Cassandra. “Do you think Father will find a way to fix him?”

Cassandra spent several minutes flicking through another book, lips pursed. Damian didn’t rush her. “I think,” she said, slow and thoughtful, “it is a lot to lose.”

“If it’s as dire as he said, he should focus on fixing the dangerous part first,” Damian replied. “Who cares if he gets stuck like this? He’ll grow. Probably.”

Cassandra laughed. “He is very different. He would be very different.”

“I don’t see how.” Damian picked up another coloring book, another of the adult ones with very intricate designs, and added it to the other two for Stephanie. “Whatever issues he has with his memories aside, I don’t see the big deal.”

“You are thirteen,” Cassandra replied. “If you were ten years older, you’d think different.”

Damian scowled. “I don’t think I’ll change that much, you’re all just being condescending.”

Hurried footsteps were the only warning before Jason careened around one of the shelves.

“There you are.” Jason was carrying a small stack of books that he pushed into Damian’s arms. “Hold these for me.” He raced off again without waiting for a response.  

Damian adjusted his armful of books so he could flip through Jason’s acquisitions. He frowned. He was sure they already had copies of these at the manor, and he was fairly certain Richard meant for Jason to acquire actual children’s books and not his normal literature.

It took him a few minutes of hunting around shelves to find Richard, a pile of books under one arm, trailing after Jason as the boy darted around the shelves. For whatever reason, they were in the thriller section.

Richard’s expression was pained. He spotted Damian approaching and his eyes fell to the books on top of the piles. “Put those back, he doesn’t need them.”

“They smell good,” Jason said, running up and adding a book to the pile Damian held. It had a blood red cover and a large knife across the front. “And this.”

“No.” Richard grabbed the books and set them aside. “Jay, children’s section. Let’s go.”

“You can’t make me,” Jason replied, already stretching up towards another book.

“Jason.”

The boy’s head snapped around and his hand froze. He pouted, but when Richard continued to stare impassively back he lowered his arm, eyes filling with tears. Richard crouched down in front of him, peering at Jason’s face. Leaning away, the child’s lips twitched. “What?”

“Those are crocodile tears,” Richard said, poking him on the nose. “I see through your tactics, little wing.”

“They aren’t,” Jason replied, giggling. “I’m not a crocodile.”

Cassandra joined them, putting one hand on Richard’s shoulder and grinning at him.

Their older brother turned back to Jason. “Okay, here’s the deal, Jay. We’re going to the children’s section to get some books for you and Cass, because you’re going to read with her.”

Jason frowned. “Why?”

“Because she’s our sister and we love her,” Richard replied. “And you like reading so you’re the best one to help Cass out, aren’t you?”

“I do like reading,” Jason said, thoughtful. He stared Cassandra for a moment before nodding, reaching out to take the hand she held out for him. “Okay, we can read together.” As Cassandra led him away towards the children’s section, Jason glanced over his shoulder and pointed at Damian. “Don’t lose my books!”

Damian glanced up at Richard. “Shall I conveniently misplace them on the way out?”

“Please do.”

***

The toy store was larger than it had any right to be. Aisles upon aisles of all manner of insipid creations meant to entertain the young and feeble-minded. Somehow, it was Damian who ended up leading Jason through the rows, as if he had any idea of the purpose behind anything in the store just because he was thirteen.

Jason had him by the hand, trailing behind him with the fingers of his other hand in his mouth. Damian had chided him several times to remove them to no avail. The bookstore might have been a comfort, but it was clear the boy didn’t have any more of clue about most of the things in this store than Damian did.

Three new stuffed toys were sitting in a cart, guarded by Richard, who was making his way slowly in their wake. They were all that Jason had shown interest in so far. Jason did perk up when they reached the Legos, and Damian found himself pulled along closer to the shelves. He sent a dark glower back at Richard for putting him in this situation, but his brother was too busy leaning on the shopping cart and tapping rapidly away on his phone to notice. Cassandra had abandoned him to Jason’s mercy, called away by a phone call from Stephanie and the excuse that she would take their purchases from the bookstore back to the car.

“They have Lego Batman?”

Damian turned to see Jason reaching up to one of the higher shelves, pulling off a box down and wrinkling his nose at it. “Of course, Father’s company has had the rights for years now.”

“Huh.” Jason stared at the box in his hands for a moment before looking back at the shelves. “Do they have Wonder Woman?”

They did have Wonder Woman.

By the time Jason was done they had enough Legos to build a small city. Richard seemed pleased enough that Jason was interested in something that he made no comment about the frankly excessive amount of Legos they were purchasing.

Artemis caught up to them in the video game section. “Bizarro has taken his purchases back to your residence, having decided there wouldn’t be enough room in the vehicle for all of them.”

“I suppose we should be thankful he’s not here,” Damian said, looking at the cart and the pile of Lego. Bizarro would surely have found reason to buy out most of the toy store out of sheer curiosity. Jason, at least, had something like taste.

“We can get it, probably.” Richard took Jason by the shoulders, directing him away from the games he’d been browsing. “Let’s look over here instead.”

“I know which safe house has the device,” Artemis said, looking away when Richard turned to her. “I can retrieve it the next time I’m there.”

After a moment, Richard shrugged. “Sure.” He gestured at Damian. “Come keep an eye on Jay for a second, Damian.”

Damian narrowed his eyes but moved over to take Jason’s hand again, while Richard walked over to Artemis, talking with her quietly.

“Damian.” A tug on his sleeve and Jason was leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Let’s get the scary game.”

Richard was not paying them any attention. With a shrug, Damian allowed Jason to grab the game he wanted and add it to the cart. It was just a game and it could hardly be that scary, Father and Richard were both being ridiculous about Jason’s current affliction.

Their older brother did not notice the game during their checkout, too busy arguing with Artemis as he’d done on and off for several days. Something was going on between them, but both were careful to never be overheard saying anything too specific.

They were probably arguing about Jason, as he was all anyone wanted to discuss recently. Damian rolled his eyes as, predictably, they were out of the store for all of five seconds before something set Jason off and he was crying again, tugging at Artemis and clinging to her when she rolled her eyes and swept him up into her arms.

“Were you always this much of a crybaby?” Damian asked. “Is that what you have the ridiculous helmet for?”

Jason sniffled, calming now he’d apparently got what he wanted. He glared back at Damian. “Your face is a ridiculous helmet.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Your face doesn’t make sense.”

“Your wit astounds us all,” Artemis said, turning Jason’s head by the chin so he broke eye contact with Damian. “You clearly need a nap, little one.”

“Don’t,” Jason muttered. He sulked in Artemis’ arms until they were outside, where he suddenly decided he wanted to go to Richard and kicked up another fuss until he was passed from one to the other.

Damian trailed behind. It was astounding how utterly they bent to his whims. As Jason demanded that Damian sit next to him on the drive home, leaving Artemis to take the passenger seat, Damian told himself that he was merely avoiding an unnecessary tantrum.

He was not weak enough to bend to the will of a small child.

Chapter Text

Patrolling with Nightwing had always felt different than Batman; more freeing, somehow. The feeling hadn’t changed since Tim had become Red Robin. It had been a rough year for both of them, but Red Robin’s heart was still lighter when he dogged his big brother’s heels across the rooftops that led him onto more adventurous and, perhaps, dangerous paths across the city than Batman ever would.

It remained true even that night, despite the fact that Nightwing had been less than enthused about patrol when Tim had poked his head into Jason’s bedroom earlier that evening to remind him. The shopping trip that they’d gone on had resulted in the room no longer resembling an undisturbed relic to a fifteen year old boy but an actual child’s room. It had been past Jason’s official bedtime when Tim had shown up but he’d still been awake, if only barely, curled up in Dick’s lap while their brother read him a story from one of his books. Jason had, thankfully, been too tired to even notice Tim’s presence and had been put to bed without much fuss.

Nightwing, however, had been visibly reluctant to leave and even hours later his mind was still clearly miles away. Their trek across Gotham’s rooftops was mostly silent, which always felt more forced and uncomfortable than Batman’s more typical silence. By the time they reached the roof where they were meeting with Batwoman, Red Robin felt about as tense as Nightwing looked.

Five minutes spent in painfully awkward silence later and Red Robin finally ventured to ask about it. “Is something going on? You’ve been weird for days.”

Nightwing turned, the ridge of his eyebrow shifting under the mask into an incredulous arch. Nightwing’s most biting comments were often just silence and expression, it was when he was at his most cutting and, incidentally, the most like Batman.

Behind his own mask, Red Robin rolled his eyes. “Aside from the obvious, I mean. Come on, something is clearly eating at you and has been for a while.”

The wind whipped up around them, whistling in his ears. Nightwing stared out over the city, silent for several long moments, before he sighed and hung his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you know what I was doing when Jason died?”

It felt like they’d swerved onto a completely different topic. Red Robin stayed rooted to the spot, felt that uncomfortable feeling creep up his spine, the sense that he was an outsider to another family’s grief. It was always going to be true, in a sense. None of them who had joined the family later had known any of them before Jason had died. “No, you’ve never mentioned it.”

“Because I don’t know,” Nightwing replied, still staring off across the city’s skyline. “I wasn’t even on the planet. I could have been laughing, sleeping, doing anything. I’ll never know. The only thing I know is that I wasn’t there, that Jason died, and I didn’t find out for weeks.”

“Dick…”

Nightwing sniffed, looking down at his feet. “Like being on Earth would’ve made much difference, right? But at least I’d have known. I’d have known he was missing, Alfred would have told me, asked me for help even if Bruce was too stubborn. He might still have died but I would have known. I wouldn’t have been happy while it happened.”

Red Robin moved closer, hovering awkwardly near his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“You’re my little brother. I shouldn’t even be telling you now.”

“I know you have this sense of responsibility and everything, but I can handle it.” He placed a hand on Nightwing’s shoulder and squeezed. “You might be the big brother, but you can still lean on us when you need, you know?”  

Nightwing sighed, hanging his head. “I wasn’t there when Jason died last time and now he’s a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there again.”

“It’s a completely different situation, you have to know that.”

“Yeah, I’m being completely irrational.” Nightwing looked up again, straightening his shoulders. Red Robin could see the mask shifting back into place. “My head knows that. My heart is telling me to stay with my little brother.”

“If you want to go back to the manor, I can handle things here.” He knew even as he said it that Nightwing wouldn’t accept. Dick had always been good at compartmentalizing, shoving all his personal feelings aside to get the job done. Sometimes Bruce’s influence was clear to see on him, despite the obvious differences between them.  

Sure enough, Nightwing shook his head. "I'm fine. We have a job to do."

Red Robin might have pressed the issue, if Batwoman hadn't chosen that moment to grapple over, landing on the edge of the rooftop.

"You two ready?" she asked.

"We're good," Nightwing replied. "We were waiting on you."

"I got a call from the GCPD," Batwoman replied. 'Montoya', she didn't say, but Red Robin knew well enough who she was getting the information from. "Held me up a bit. We're going to have to put our original plans on hold, boys. The GCPD has found where the Joker was hiding."

***

The earthquake a few years back had done a number on the tunnels running in and out of Gotham, between the islands and the mainland. The Gotham Water District Tunnel had suffered the same fate. The tunnels themselves had all been repaired in the years since, but the superficial damage to much of Gotham remained.

Batwoman led them past two GCPD officers and into the tunnel itself. The first thing Red Robin noticed was the bloodstain. It was hard to miss, spread out across ground several feet into the tunnel. The tunnel had remnants of the Joker’s stay there, mirrors propped up against some pipes, a few boxes, but it was far emptier than he’d been expecting for the place the Joker had been hiding out for so long.

"That's a lot of blood," Red Robin said. "Looks like we have our primary crime scene."

Nightwing knelt to examine it, brushing his fingers against the stain and grimacing. "Looks like he bled out here."

"Maybe one of his own people turned on him." Batwoman examined one of the mirrors. "Funhouse mirrors. He certainly committed to his theme, didn't he?"

"Occasionally," Nightwing replied. "A lot of the time he was just like any other psychopath."

"I'm going to check outside," Red Robin said. "See if there are any security cameras around that Oracle could pull the feeds from."

Batwoman nodded, giving him an offhanded wave. Nightwing didn't react, still staring at the bloodstain. Red Robin hoped it was the break in the case they needed. Once they had solved the final mystery surrounding the Joker, the book could be shut and maybe they could finally move on, until he was just an awful, distant memory.

He found three cameras in the vicinity, one directly overlooking the tunnel entrance and two on nearby buildings. None of them looked well-maintained. He scaled up to the closest, examining it. The front of the camera had been crushed, possibly by a thrown rock. The next camera looked like a leftover from before the quake--it was so damaged it nearly fell apart in his hands. The last camera was clearly not in working order despite looking untouched, leaving him to wonder if perhaps it had been shut off by the city as part of the budget cuts after the quake.

He tapped his comm. "Oracle, I might have something on the Joker's murder. Can you pull some footage for me?"

"I might have some time," she replied. "Currently hitting a dead end on my most important case."

"No luck on the book yet?" The last Red Robin had known, Oracle was examining the notes the Harvester had on his organ reviving magic. Considering not a single one of them was an expert on magic, he wasn't sure if it would prove fruitful. Zatanna had another copy, but who knew if even she could do anything with it. Her prognosis had been dire just from looking at the spell.

"Just more insight than I wanted on the twisted workings of this guy's mind." Oracle sighed. "What have you got, Red?"

"We've found the primary crime scene," he said. "The District Water Tunnels. There are three security cameras outside, but they've all been broken. Do you think you could pull the feeds and see when they went offline?"

"I'll take a look and get back to you."

"Thanks, Oracle."

"Stay safe out there, Red."

"Will do." He didn't comment on Oracle's paranoia. He couldn't conceive of a way the Joker could have managed to so thoroughly fake his death, but he could at least understand why there was still some hesitance around letting their guards down. Joker had hurt their family too much for anything else.

Back in the tunnel he found Nightwing examining the mirrors, while Batwoman talked quietly with one of the officers nearby. Nightwing glanced up as he approached. “Anything?”

“The only cameras out there look dead, but I asked Oracle to pull the feeds.” Red Robin nodded to the bloodstain. “What did you get from that?”

“There’s some high velocity blood splatter,” Nightwing pointed to where there were spots of blood along the ground and walls, away from the main stain.

“Anything we don’t already know?” Red Robin had been over the coroner’s report several times, combing it for any information that might help them locate whoever had killed the Joker. The initial information provided after they’ve recovered the torso had been that the Joker had been stabbed, which might have been understating it. He’d been brutally run through, lack of technique made up for in sheer strength, crushing the sternum and going through the heart.

“Mostly just confirms what we suspect,” Nightwing replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Joker was probably surprised, the attack was one of passion.” He tapped his knuckles against one of the mirrors. “It looks like a bunch of stuff was here and then moved out, judging from the marks left behind and the blood, it was all moved out before he was killed. I think Joker was in the last stages of preparation for whatever the hell he was going to do. GCPD has people looking into potentially contaminated water considering the location he chose to hide out."

"You don't think so?"

Nightwing shook his head. "I think a lot more was here than just toxin. 'Contaminate the water supply' is hardly worth the amount of time the Joker invested in his plan. He’s done it before, there’s no new joke here.”

Batwoman made her way over, taking a wide berth around the blood stain. “I’ll look into what was here and what the Joker was up to; the last thing we need is a posthumous joke from this guy.”

Red Robin nodded. “And that means that we’ll keep looking into who killed him.”  

“And then offer them a damn medal,” Nightwing muttered, turning away and stalking out of the tunnel.

***

It was hardly surprising to find out that the security cameras were a dead end; Tim had suspected that they’d been offline for months or years, judging from how worn they’d been alone. The Joker hadn’t managed to cause so many problems for them over the years by being a complete idiot, he chose his hideouts well. He and Nightwing hadn’t stayed out late, and Dick had shed his costume and disappeared up into the manor like the hounds of hell were on his tail, not even sparing Bruce a glance.

The next day found Tim at a table in the library with his laptop, hidden in the back of the room with his headphones on and pulling footage from every security camera he could find remotely near the District Water Tunnels and hoping for the best. It was the type of tedious detective work that he could get lost in, the kind he wouldn’t even attempt to burden Oracle with while she had other, more important things to do.

Besides, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do on a Monday morning.

“Tim, I need a favor.”

Tim reluctantly dragged his eyes off his computer screen. Dick was striding towards him, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. Jason was in his arms, face tucked against Dick’s neck. Tim sensed his peaceful Monday morning was about to slip through his fingers.  “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Trust me, you’re bottom of the list,” Dick said, attempting to put Jason down on the chair opposite Tim in the little corner of the library he’d sequestered himself in. Jason clung determinedly to his neck. “Everyone is out of the manor or busy, and I need to go sort something out. It’ll be an hour, tops.”

Judging from how red Jason’s face was, Tim suspected that even an hour was asking too much. He sighed. “What about Damian?”

“Not here,” Dick said, finally detaching Jason and straightening up. “Which is actually my next problem, because I’m concerned that no one knows where the thirteen year old is.”

“He probably took off to San Francisco or went to cause trouble with his friends.” Tim’s life was much simpler when Damian was far away. “I’m holding you to an hour, Dick.”

“Thanks, Tim.” Dick cupped Jason’s face in his hands. “Please be good for Tim, little wing? For me?”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “I’m never speaking to you ever again, why can’t you take me to Arty?”

“Because Artemis is helping me out, okay?”

Which Tim knew basically meant that Dick and Artemis were going to shout at each other for a while, far away from where Jason could overhear them and cry about it.

Dick let go of Jason, ruffling his hair and giving Tim a look that bordered on pleading. “Watch him, okay?”

“You got it.”

Jason stared after Dick as their brother left the library. The door closing behind him sounded like a death knell. Tim took a deep breath and slid his headphones off. “Okay,” he said, “do you, uh, want me to get you a book?”

“I can get my own book!” Jason slid off his chair and disappeared amongst the shelves.

Hopefully, Jason’s love of books would win out over his resentment of Tim and they could spend an hour in each other’s company without disaster striking. Tim’s gaze slid back to his computer screen while he waited for Jason to get back. He had some new files from Oracle; more footage that she’d sourced for him to look through, including one from a camera he’d missed that was only a few streets over from the tunnels. “We’d be lost without you, Babs,” he said quietly, turning back to the footage he was currently combing through with renewed excitement.

He was so focused on it that he almost missed his phone ringing, about twenty minutes later. He briefly considered letting it go to voicemail, because he was in the zone now and the distraction was irritating, but it was Dick and so he answered it. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Is Jason okay?”

Jason?

Tim blinked, looking up from his screen and scanning what he could see of the library for the kid. Oh, fuzznuts. “Uh, he went to get a book?”

“How long ago?” Dick asked, and from his voice Tim could tell that he knew exactly what was going on and probably called in the first place because he had been expecting it, and Tim would’ve be offended about his older brother’s lack of faith but he was honestly terrible at babysitting and children and Jason, so really, it was his own fault for living up to expectations exactly. Or Dick’s fault for trusting him, but they’d already established that Dick had no other options.

“Like twenty minutes ago,” he said, his chair scraping as he got to his feet and started to look for him. “I got…distracted.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Dick replied. “When I asked you to watch him, Tim, I meant with your eyes.”

“Sorry.” Jason wasn’t in the library and sprinting off to his bedroom yielded only a sharp yelp of pain when he stood on a Lego piece, which were scattered around the doorway. “He needs to clean his room, why is he leaving toys everywhere.”

“That’s his alarm system,” Dick said. “It makes him feel safe.”

“Well, it works great.” Tim left the room and hurried downstairs, heart suddenly seized with panic. Jason had a tendency to disappear down to the Cave, and he did not want to know what that kid could do down there with no supervision and twenty whole minutes. “I’m checking the Cave now.” Jason wasn’t in sight when he got down there, but Tim checked the place over twice just in case. His heart was still thundering away in his chest, and the panic was getting worse now.

“I’ll come back,” Dick said, and Tim could hear the worry in his voice and he clenched his jaw on another apology. Dick had only told him yesterday how screwed up the idea of leaving Jason made him, and now Tim had to go and lose him.

“I’ll find him, I promise. Just give me a few more minutes.” His heart was beating wildly in panic by the time he raced back up from the Cave and checked the study, den and two hall closets over in quick succession, and he probably looked like a frantic idiot, tossing things over, phone still clutched against his ear like it was glued there. He finally skidded to a stop in the kitchen, where he was greeted with Jason, sitting on the counter and kicking his legs while he chewed contently on sour gummy worms that Tim was pretty sure he was not allowed to eat. “Oh, thank fu—goodness.”

Jason chewed loudly on another gummy worm and pointedly turned his face away, ignoring him.

“You found him?” Dick asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine.” Tim let his shoulders slump, closing his eyes and putting his free hand over his face. His heartbeat was loud in his ears and now that it was over all Tim really wanted to do was curl up on the kitchen floor and calm the hell down. “He’s eating gummy worms. I’m sorry, Dick; do want you need to do, I promise I won’t look away from him for even a second.”

“You’re not even looking at me right now,” Jason said.

Tim dragged his hand down his face and opened his eyes. Jason’s feet were kicking faster now, like he found the whole thing very entertaining.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Dick said. “Or Alfred might beat me back, but call me if you need me, okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Tim said.

“Enjoy the sugar rush.”

Tim pulled the phone away from his ear and glared at it. He supposed he deserved it, but still. Jason was bad enough on a good day. With a sigh, he slid his phone into his pocket and approached the counter where Jason was examining the empty bag with a pout. “You could’ve said something.”

“I did,” Jason said, frowning. “I came over and said I was hungry and going to get food and you said ‘okay’.”

“Er—” Tim blinked, thinking back and trying to recall if anything had disturbed his peaceful concentration. “I…don’t remember that.”

“It’s not my fault if you don’t pay attention,” Jason said, poking his tongue out.

Tim narrowed his eyes. The problem was that Tim could fully believe he’d been so absorbed he’d absently replied and had no memory of it—but he could also believe that Jason would blithely make it up and know that Tim wouldn’t be able to argue. Which of the two of them was Dick going to believe? The one who’d misplaced the seven year old, or said seven year old who had Dick so thoroughly wrapped around his little finger that their big brother was suffering separation anxiety.

Jason was just as tricky at this age as ever, the little monster.

“Come on, get down off of there and we’ll go find you a book or something.” Tim approached the counter Jason was sitting on, holding his arms out. Hopefully Jason would be so disagreeable about Tim picking him up that he’d get down himself and cooperate. Jason put the empty bag down on the counter beside him and made a face. “What, what’s wrong?”

“I feel sick,” Jason said, and then threw up on Tim’s shoes.

It felt a bit like his brain was trying to reboot and abort itself out of the situation entirely, leaving Tim to stand there and stare down at his feet in blank horror and not accomplish anything productive or helpful. Jason gagged and then started crying, which added a whole new level of distress to an already traumatizing experience.

“Drake, do you know what’s going on? Richard left a dozen voice—”

Tim looked over with a grimace. Of course Damian would choose that moment to walk in.

Damian stared in what looked like stupefied shock before jolting forward towards Jason. “Drake, you have sunk to a new low.”

“What?” Tim slipped out of his shoes, looking around for the nearest anything to help clean up the mess. “I didn’t do anything!”

Technically, he’d lost Jason and everything was his fault, but hell if he was going to tell Damian that.

Damian gave Tim and the mess of vomit on the kitchen floor a wide berth and snatched Jason straight off the counter, somehow managing to carry the child off as easily as Dick did despite his far shorter stature. Jason wrapped himself around Damian and clung on, shoulders still wracking with sobs, each one making Tim feel more and more like the literal worst person in the entire world. He could hear him even as Damian carried him off down the hall.

“Oh my.”

Tim sighed, hanging his head as Alfred swept into the room, shopping bags in hand, and gave the state of the kitchen a disapproving look. It was just his luck that everyone was coming back just in time to witness the great failure that was Tim Drake Supervising a Small Child.

“There was an incident,” Tim said, feeling his face flush in embarrassment. “I’ll clean it up, I swear. I wasn’t watching Jason closely, it’s my fault.”

“I’ll take care of this,” Alfred said, dropping the shopping bags at the small kitchen counter and coming over to pat Tim on the shoulder. “You, Master Timothy, should go and clean up and then continue in your duties.”

“Damian has him.”

“Master Damian was not asked to babysit, was he?” Alfred nodded to the door. “I’m sure Master Jason would appreciate it if you fetched his toy dog, as I’m sure Master Damian has his hands full at the moment.”

“Of course, Alfred.”

***

It had been tempting, but in the end Tim left his laptop in the library and settled with his brothers in the den to watch Damian and Jason play something that looked horrendously violent on the PS4 that Artemis had dumped off the previous evening. Tim eyed the cover of the game suspiciously, but Jason did seem enthralled by it, egging Damian on and laughing whenever he died. He figured that Dick had approved the choice since he was the one who’d taken Jason shopping the previous day, and who was Tim to argue?

He was thoroughly disabused of that notion when Dick finally did walk into the room, taking one look at the television screen and turning a full Batglare on him. “What the hell is this?”

“Fun,” Jason said, holding his arms out to their brother and turning big, watery eyes on him. “Dick, I threw up.”

“What? Are you sick?” Dick swept Jason up off the couch and cuddled him close, pressing one hand against his forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

Tim started to slide along the couch, eying the exit. Damian gave him a sharp look and then cleared his throat, drawing Dick’s attention. “I removed Jason from Drake’s incompetent care. You would have been horrified at the scene I walked in on.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tim muttered, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “He ate a whole bag of gummy worms and it made him sick. He’s fine now.”

Jason had spent the last hour being doted on hand and foot and generally spoiled rotten. Whatever trauma throwing up on Tim might have caused (and Tim was sure it was exactly zero, the little fink had looked pretty pleased with himself once the crying stopped), it had long since passed.  

“A whole bag?” Dick raised his eyebrows at Jason. “Why would you even do that?”

Jason grinned, turning to stick his tongue out at Tim. “I needed the ammunition.”

Tim stared at him for a moment in silence. “Wait, what?”

“Jay.”

Jason turned and frowned at Dick, sticking his bottom lip out. “You’re late,” he said. “Where is Arty?”

“She’ll be by later, you know that,” Dick replied. He sat down on the couch between Tim and Damian, letting Jason curl up in his lap. “Turn that off, Damian, it’s not appropriate for either of you.”

Damian’s expression of affront was glorious to witness. “I’ve killed people, Richard.”

Jason gave a deep sigh. “It’s just pixels.”

Dick was unmoved, and the game was switched over to something more appropriate, which ended up being World of Final Fantasy. It was a decent game, although Jason could not let go of the fact that you stacked characters on top of each other.

“But why?”

“It’s just a gameplay mechanic,” Tim said, again, for what felt like the fortieth time. Damian was engrossed in actually playing and Dick had a superhuman ability to lean back against the couch, close his eyes, and somehow tune Jason’s incessant whining out that Tim frankly envied.

“It’s so stupid,” Jason said, accusingly and with a glare like it was Tim’s own personal fault that the game had the mechanic. “Why would you do that?”

“I—Damian, help.”

“Standing on another’s head shows dominance,” Damian replied, eyes fixed on the game, “the higher your stack of dominance, the more cowed the opposing characters are.”

“That is not true,” Tim said. Jason was eying him far too speculatively. “Don’t even think about it, Jason.”

Thankfully, Jason could not manage to extract himself from their older brother and settled for climbing on Dick’s head instead. Other than making sure Jason was stable and secure, Dick didn’t seem to care one bit. From his new vantage point, Jason looked down at them with a frown. “Is it working?”

Damian didn’t look away from the television. “Yes, very imposing.”

Jason gave a firm nod and then slid back down into Dick’s lap and held his hands out for the controller. “I want to play next.”

“I’m never having kids,” Tim said to Dick, once Damian and Jason were engrossed in the game, Damian oddly patient as he taught Jason how to play.

Dick snorted. “And the world breathes a sigh of relief.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Now you, on the other hand…”

Dick pried his eyes open and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna get back to work,” Tim said, grinning. “Have fun with the munchkins.”

Head falling back against the couch, Dick closed his eyes again and nodded. “Let me know if you find anything.”

“Will do.”

Collecting his laptop from the library, Tim retreated to his bedroom, setting himself up for a long night. Dick would probably appreciate the night off patrol and Tim could get through more of the tapes without distraction.  In the time he’d been roped into babysitting, Oracle had sent him even more files, widening the search radius and uncovering another promising camera. Tim stretched his arms over his head with a sigh and settled down to get to work.

“This is going to take a while.”

Chapter Text

The quiet stillness of the morning was disturbed by the wooden shuddering of a cellphone against a bedside table. It managed to get through the haze of sleep clouding Dick’s mind and pull him from the realm of dreams. He opened his eyes and groaned, reaching out and groping around the table until his fingers hit the edge of the phone and he could drag it close enough to pick up, squinting blearily at the screen.

52 new messages, the phone’s screen read.

“What the fuck.” Dick sat bolt upright in bed, scrambling to go through his texts and find out what kind of dangerous, world-threatening crisis he’d somehow managed to sleep through.

The earliest message he’d received had been from Roy Harper and was just a stream of question marks and nonsensical letters, as if he had slammed his fingers down on the keys and not cared what had come out.

The next one, from Donna Troy, wasn’t any better. You and I are going to have a long talk later about keeping secrets, mark my words.

“I mean, yeah that’s probably warranted,” Dick muttered, growing increasingly confused as he scrolled through his phone. “But normally I know what the fuck it is I’ve done.”

I won five hundred dollars out of the pool, you always have my back, was Wally’s message, and Dick had relaxed by now because this was clearly the kind of crisis that was only going to humiliate him and not actually be a threat to the world at large. Small mercies.

His phone buzzed in his hand with a new message from Donna: Also, is that ARTEMIS?

“Is what Artemis?” Dick asked the air, with a deep and creeping sense of foreboding. He sighed, reluctantly turning to the Internet to figure out what the hell was going on. It did not take him long to find the headline that had spawned that morning’s chaos.

WAYNE HEIR’S SECRET LOVE CHILD?

By Vicki Vale

“Oh no, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Vicki Vale was not kidding. Vicki Vale had a photo of Dick Grayson and a ‘mysterious woman’ from outside the Crystal Palace, the photo taken in the moment that said mysterious woman, also known as Artemis, had been handing Jason over to Dick. They were both looking at the boy with soft expressions and yeah, maybe Dick could see why certain assumptions were being made, but also had they met Artemis?

Clearly not, since they thought that Dick was sleeping with her.

He had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop the somewhat hysterical laughter from bubbling up at the very thought, before turning back to the article.

Vicki Vale had no comments from the family, which shocked Dick none because scandals of this nature always went through Wayne Enterprise’s lawyers, who often never bothered to even tell the family about small rumors and the latest imagined stories of the gossip rags. Still, front page of the Gotham Gazette was a little more weight than was usually given to these kinds of things, so Dick figured Vicki had to have something.

Vicki Vale’s article helpfully informed him that a paternity test had been filed for by Wayne Enterprise’s lawyers, which was as good as goddamn confirmation for the media and something that they would never do without telling him, especially when there was no secret lovechild and—

Dick closed his eyes and let out a hiss from between his teeth. Once he felt more composed, he shook his head and opened them, going through his contacts until he found Babs’ name. He put the call through and dropped his face into his free hand.

“I figured you’d be calling,” Babs said, not waiting for him to speak.

“What did you do?”

“What do you think I did?” Babs laughed. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you more notice, I didn’t think she’d publish anything this quickly.”

“A paternity test?”

“I had to do something to stall them,” Babs replied. “You know how this dog and pony show goes. Vicki started digging around really quickly, Dick, and well, certain contingencies have to be put in place, you agreed with that.”

“Oh my God.”

“It’s not so bad,” Babs said, and he could hear the laughter in her voice. “Artemis is even your type, which adds a certain authenticity to the story—”

He hung up, groaning. Something prodded him in the back and he looked over his shoulder. Jason was wrapped in half of Dick’s blankets, a grumpy frown on his face and with Sparky in one hand and the new 3DS they’d picked up from the mall in the other. Dick hadn’t even noticed him. “When did you get in here?”

“You’re being loud,” Jason said, kicking at him again. Dick grabbed his foot to still it. “I had bad dreams and wanted to play Pokemon.”

And the 3DS was in Dick’s room to prevent Jason from staying up all night playing it. Fantastic job there.

“Where’s Artemis?”

“She left. She said she didn’t want to watch you snore all night.” Jason pouted, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “Arty is never around anymore.”

“I know, buddy.” Dick got out of bed and put his hands on his hips, regarding his tired little brother with a raised brow. “How about we find Bizarro and go downstairs for breakfast?”

“Biz doesn’t like waking up this early.” Jason stayed where he was, wrapping himself up further in Dick’s blankets. “I’m very tired.”

“Yeah, you have a bedtime for a reason.”

By the time Dick finally shuffled Jason back to his own room (sans 3DS) to either get dressed for breakfast or take a nap, he’d almost forgotten about the news article. His phone vibrating away in his pocket jolted him back to reality. He slid it out and rolled his eyes at the newest message.

It was from Tim: Should I apologize for jinxing you yesterday?

***

Mornings where Steph actually managed to eat breakfast with her mother like a normal family were few and far between, what with her mother’s shifts and Steph’s nightlife and classes at Gotham University. It was nice to spend a peaceful morning, relaxed and without a care, and Crystal Brown hadn’t even blinked at Cass’ presence, just set out another plate. Her mother sat buried behind the paper while Steph regaled Cass with a story about the one professor she had that she truly, truly couldn’t stand.

Crystal cleared her throat, peering over the paper at Cass and adjusting her glasses. “I suppose congratulations are in order?”

Steph exchanged a look with Cass, who shrugged. Steph turned back to her mother with a frown. “Uh, for what, Mom?”

Her mother turned the paper around, revealing the headline. Steph read it over three times, mouthing along and not quite believing it. ‘Wayne Heir’s Secret Love Child’, they were the most perfect words she’d ever seen strung together, literally the only way it could be improved was if it was Tim’s honor being sullied, but she supposed that was a lot to wish for when the status of Tim’s honor was dubious at best.

“This is amazing,” she said, taking the paper and admiring it. Cass already had her phone out and was taking pictures of it, because Steph was a fantastic influence and Cass was a quick learner. “Cass, you know what this means?”

“I have a nephew?” Cass asked, and she looked a little too taken with the idea considering they were talking about gossip rumors.

“Better.” Steph put the paper down and clutched her hands to her chest, basking in the early morning sunlight that filtered through the kitchen window. “It means that Bruce Wayne is a grandfather.”

It truly was a magnificent morning, made all the better by the fact that she, Stephanie Brown, got to witness Cassandra Cain snort hot chocolate up her nose.

***

“Our family honor is being besmirched, Father!”

Father was still staring at the paper, face impassive. One of his eyebrows quirked at Damian’s words. “Damian, I’m sure you’re aware by now of my own…reputation.”

“Yes, your charade of incompetence is hard to avoid,” Damian said, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ve risen above the indignity. But this isn’t about you, Father. This is about Richard’s reputation, which doesn’t involve embarrassing himself by flirting with models half his age.”

Father gave him a hard stare. “I’ve not flirted with models in years, what have your brothers been telling you, exactly?”

“Do not try and shift the blame.”

Father got up and left the study, heading downstairs to the kitchen, paper still clutched in his hands. Damian trailed behind, unwilling to let him escape.

“I’ve done research, I know the truth.”

“That sounds ominous,” Father said, handing the paper over to Pennyworth in exchange for a cup of coffee. “It’ll blow over, Damian, don’t worry about it.”

“The Vale woman claims a paternity test was ordered,” Damian said, ignoring the glass of orange juice Pennyworth set on the counter in front of him. “We can get it retracted and have an apology published.”

“No, we couldn’t. A paternity test was ordered.” Father's voice was bland, his face carefully composed. He took a sip of his coffee. “The lawyers called me this morning to apologize for their oversight in not informing me.”

Damian paused, mouth open on another protest. He shook his head. “There can’t be a paternity test! Who ordered it?”

“Frame the article, Alfred,” Father said to Pennyworth, nodding to the paper that Pennyworth was reading with increasingly high eyebrows. “It’s probably going to be extremely funny one day.”

Damian turned around and stomped off. No one in the family was giving the situation the serious attention it deserved.

***

Come downstairs and let us in.

Tim stared at the text message for a moment before rubbing at his bleary eyes. He’d been so absorbed in going through the security camera footage that he’d ended up dreaming about it the entire four hours he’s managed to sleep. He’d woken up feeling unsettled and in a mindset where things did not seem quite real—which certainly hadn’t been helped along by the headline in the Gotham Gazette that morning. Finally, with a yawn, he tossed back his covers and slipped out of bed.

It was a bright and cheery morning, aggravating the headache building behind his eyes. He had no idea why Steph and Cass needed him to let them inside in the first place, which wasn’t helping his mood. He opened the front door smoothly, spinning on his heel to go back upstairs, but did a double-take and turned around instead, grabbing the door frame to steady himself.

“What in the actual—” Tim had to clench his hand down on the front door to stop himself from slamming it in their faces. “Are you out of your minds? Dick’s going to kill you, and Lord knows how Bruce is dealing with—”

“Shut your mouth and hold my balloon,” Stephanie said, pushing her way past him and tying the string of a bright blue balloon around his hand. It had ‘It’s a Boy!’ spelled out in cheerful white print, surrounded by happy teddy bears. It looked like it belonged in a baby shower.

Steph and Cass looked like they both belonged in a baby shower.

“Today, I am an aunt,” Cass said, spinning on her toes with a flourish. She had five balloons with more happy announcements and decorations tied around her arms, and carried a giant blue teddy bear in her hands. A blue baby blanket was tied around her neck like a cape. Steph had one as well, Tim noticed, along with a large paper bag filled with God only knew what. Cass leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, beaming. “We’re having a baby shower.”

“Oh, that wasn’t obvious at all.”

“Quiet, you.” Stephanie jerked the balloon down so it smacked him in the head. “How dare you sully the morning with your lack of enthusiasm. It’s not every day you become an uncle, and we have so many important milestones that were so callously missed.”

“You’re both insane.” Tim licked his lips and refused to look at Steph’s face, lest he burst into laughter and doom himself.

“Timothy, be a dear and go fetch the rest of the stuff from my car? We bought enough for you to join us.”

Who was he kidding, he was already doomed.

***

“Okay, so I can see the appeal in all of this,” Duke said, eying the blue decorations that Steph and Cass were stringing up, “but have you stopped to consider how, you know, Jason’s going to feel about it?”

“What, when he’s back to normal?” Steph asked, teetering on a dining chair until Tim reached out to steady it. “He’ll think it’s hilarious.”

“No, I mean right now.”

Cass shrugged. “He is small, but he is Jason.”

“Yeah, pretty sure his sense of humor is still better than Tim’s.” Steph jumped down off the chair and nudged Tim in the shoulder, smirking. Tim rolled his eyes and started tying a balloon string around Steph’s ponytail.

“Jason is, like, one hundred percent convinced that Tim is a gremlin,” Duke said, because not only had he spent half an hour being lectured on the subject while Jason drew him a diagram—he’d hung it up on his wall afterward, it was cute—but in the days since then he’d received follow up reminders so he could ‘stay safe from the imminent threat’. “He even set up his Legos in an ‘anti-gremlin formation’ to protect himself while he slept.”

Tim blinked. “He did? Well, I did step on them, so I guess it works.”

Duke coughed to smother a laugh. “Not gonna lie, he made a pretty good case.”

Steph shrugged her shoulders, grabbing another streamer. “Tim’s species aside, I don’t think Jason will have a problem with it. We’re teasing Dick, not him.”

Duke held up his hands. “Hey, do what you want, I’m just saying, reasonable and logical explanations may not cut it. If or when he starts screaming, I will gladly sacrifice all of you to make the seven year old happy. When he is happy, my ears don’t hurt.”

Cass nodded. “Noted.”

“Not sure about the gremlin here,” Steph said, nudging Tim in the shoulder, “but if we make Jason cry we’ll sacrifice ourselves to stop it.”

Tim sighed. “In for a penny…”

Duke turned to leave them to it and pulled up short, finding himself face to face with Artemis, who was staring at the decorations with narrowed eyes. Duke backed up and moved out of Artemis’ way.

“Ooh,” Steph said quietly, from behind cupped hands. “We hadn’t considered this.”

Tim took a few steps away from Steph and visibly tried to appear like his presence was incidental. Cass was staring fixedly at the wall, her guilt clear on her face.

“What,” Artemis said, taking another step into the room, “is this?”

“Yeah,” Duke said. “You guys are on your own.”

And with that he left, exit stage right.

***

Barbara followed Alfred through to the dining room, where it seemed the entire family was finishing a late brunch. The room was decorated in blue and white streamers, with a dozen or so balloons floating around or tied to chairs. Cass and Steph, the likely culprits, were playing what looked like an improvised game of volleyball with one of the balloons.

“No school today?” She asked Duke, as he shifted his chair along to make space, so she could slide her chair in between him and Dick.

Duke shrugged, gesturing to the decorations. “Family emergency.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

Dick gave her a quick glance, brows furrowed, and Barbara knew his slight annoyance was a milder mirror of what Bruce was likely feeling about the situation. Both of them were control freaks and she’d given neither of them warning. They could both just live with it. Given the options, they would have stalled out for different reasons. Better that they just make do with the situation as it stood.

“I don’t understand,” a small, childish voice said, and she had to smile at the little boy—Jason, it was so clearly Jason, even if she hadn’t known ahead of time—as he pouted up at Artemis from his place in her lap. “Why does it matter if I’m a boy?”

The Amazon, the one Barbara might have to apologize to for unwittingly casting her in the role of Jason’s mother, only shrugged. Beside her, the Kryptonian clone gave Jason’s hair a quick ruffle.

Steph laughed. “Always asking the hard questions, huh, Jay?”

Jason scowled at her. “You didn’t even bring me a cake.”

The pause in the volleyball game allowed Babara to catch Cass’ eye. Cass grinned and gave a thumbs up. At least someone in the family was enjoying the fallout.

Jason’s head jerked up as he caught sight of Bruce, just entering the room. Barbara pushed her shoulders back and sat straight in her chair. She was sure they were going to be having a very long talk about the situation. He caught her eye, but she couldn’t read anything off his expression. They stared at each other for a moment in silence before they were interrupted by an annoyed little huff. She broke eye contact to watch as Jason clambered up onto the dining table and ran full tilt at Bruce, knocking several glasses over and ignoring the shouting of his siblings and Alfred’s rebukes, leaping off the table and into Bruce’s arms.

Bruce stared down at him, glancing from the boy to the mess he’d left behind. “Did you want something, Jason?”

“I want a cake,” Jason replied. He pointed back at Cass and Steph. “Make them give me a cake, Bruce.”

“You might as well,” Steph said, with a loose shrug. “Grandfathers are supposed to spoil their grandchildren, aren’t they?”

Barbara pinched the bridge of her nose and an awkward hush fell over the room. Truly, trust Stephanie to always know when to forcefully shove people’s faces in the things they didn’t want to confront.

Jason sniffed. “Two cakes!”

“Fine,” Bruce said, grabbing a glass that had been rolling precariously close to the edge of the dining room table and setting it upright. “Stephanie, Cassandra, follow Alfred’s instructions exactly and remember that it’s his kitchen you’re working in. Tim—”

“—I don’t want the gremlin to make my cake—”

“—will clean up.”

Tim nodded, staring at his lap. “Fair.”

“Now,” Bruce said, putting Jason down, “I’m sure that this situation has been very entertaining for you all, but it ends. Now. The media have their story and they’ll run with it, and this will all blow over in a few days.”

Damian snorted, looking up from feeding his dog bits of food from the table. “Because Jason is going to be normal again so soon?” Then, realizing what he’d said, he looked away from his father and stared at the table.

“Maybe not,” Bruce said, voice ground out and reluctant, “but soon enough. A contingency was needed and was put in place, but it’s not by any means permanent.”

Barbara could practically feel the skepticism in the air. Zatanna’s visit had been more demoralizing than Barbara had expected, seeing Damian’s stubborn jaw and conflicted eyes, the utterly blank and stony expression that was affixed to Dick’s face; that he’d been silent the whole time was another alarm, ringing in her ears and saying that all was not well.

Alfred cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, sir, I received a very…unexpected phone call this morning, soon after the news broke.”

Bruce frowned. “From who?”

“Your dearest Aunt Agatha, sir.” Alfred’s face was a vision of British stoicism, but Barbara swore she saw his lips twitch. “She expressed several strong opinions about the situation.”

Bruce’s face twisted briefly into a grimace before clearing of all expression. “I’m sure she did.”

“Aunt who?” Damian asked, looking between Alfred and Bruce like they were a ping pong match and he was engrossed.

“You have an aunt?” Stephanie’s face was a picture of betrayal. “Why hasn’t anyone mentioned her?” She glared accusingly at Dick.

Dick shrugged, looking somewhat lost himself. “I, uh, I honestly thought she was dead?”

Bruce started and he turned to stare at his eldest son. “You what? Dick, you would have been at the funeral.”

“I haven’t heard you mention her since I was a kid!” Dick’s arms wrapped around Jason as the boy scrambled into his lap. Jason looked at Barbara curiously before turning his face away when she caught his eyes. “I just assumed she died while I was away.”

Tim had his phone in his hands and Barbara was certain he was conducting an investigation into the Wayne family tree. “I think I’ve heard of her…”

“I know who that is,” Jason said. He hesitated when the attention of the room focused on him. “She is an aunt…named Agatha.”

Tim snorted, not looking up. “Wow, that’s great insight, Jason.”

It was a very familiar, very angry little glare that Jason aimed at Tim. He cleared his throat. “I would like to move to vote Tim off the island—”

“—we’re on a continent, little one,” Artemis said. She was leaning back in her chair and looked amused in a detached and vaguely threatening way.

“—off the continent.” Jason did not so much as pause at the interruption. “He is a gremlin, a jerk, and he must be stopped.”

Steph slammed her hand down on the table. “I second the motion!”

“Thirded,” Damian said, not a second later, manner as solemn and serious as if he was discussing a case and not evicting Tim from the continent.

“Motion passed.” Jason clapped his hands together in self-congratulations. “Bruce, please get a box, we have to ship him today. It doesn’t have to be a big box, because Tim is very short.”

Tim finally looked up from his phone. “Who the hell are you to call me short?”

“I’m Jason, and you said a bad word.” With that, Jason folded his arms and sat back in Dick’s lap, a smug little smile on his face, looking exceedingly pleased with himself.

“Tim, watch your language,” Bruce said, ignoring the stunned look it earned him from half the room, and turned back to Alfred. “Did she want me to call her back?”

“Oh no, sir.” Alfred paused, and Barbara swore he might have needed the time to compose himself. “She only wanted to ask me to prepare her rooms. She will be visiting the manor, you see. She expects to arrive later today, as she intended to make the earliest flight.”

For several long moments, Bruce just stared at Alfred blankly.

Steph leaned over, stage whispering to Dick: “Is this a good thing?”

“Uh.” Dick licked his lips. “Well, like I said, I haven’t spoken to her since I was a kid. I think she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Dick,” Bruce said. “Every ill-advised decision you made since age eighteen—and trust me there were a lot of them—was my fault. She told me so every time she called until four years ago when we finally stopped speaking.”

“What happened four—” Tim looked at Jason and sunk down in his seat. “Oh.”

“What a time for a family reunion,” Artemis said, standing from her seat and gesturing at Bizarro. “But this does mean that it is best if we make ourselves scarce.”

Alfred cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Master Bruce’s honored aunt did insist on meeting with the mother of Master Richard’s child.”

Artemis stared back at him. “What.”

“If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my study,” Bruce said, sweeping towards the doorway. “With my scotch.”

***

“Not that one.”

Cass frowned, looking down at the cover of the book she’d taken off the shelf and held out for Jason’s inspection. It was the fifth he’d vetoed. From the set of his shoulders, it wouldn’t be the last. “Do you not want to read?”

“I want to read.” His eyes were shiny, a warning of tears soon to come. “I just don’t want to read that one.”

“You can pick.”

“No.” Jason shook his head. “You’re supposed to pick.”

He was blinking now, trying to hold back the emotions Cass could see trying to spill out of his little body. The small Jason was interesting for her to read; he was all made up of very intense emotions, all of the time. It looked exhausting. Cass wondered if maybe that was why Jason had turned out so big, if he’d needed the size just to contain all his feelings.

She crouched down in front of him. “Why are you sad?”

“I’m not sad.” He ran a hand roughly over his eyes. “Why is everyone being so stupid today?”

Cass rocked back on her heels, eying the hunch of his shoulders. “You need a nap, little brother.”

“No,” Jason said, and scowled at his feet.

Cass stood up, sliding the book in her hands back into place on Jason’s bookshelf and taking another, tucking it under her arm. The other she held out to Jason, wiggling her fingers until he slid his hand into hers. “Come, we will go find Artemis.”

Artemis was the safest option to pick. She was not around the manor as much and when she was it was usually to guard Jason during the night and argue with Dick. It meant that Jason was always happy to see her. She tugged Jason along and led him downstairs. Artemis was in the den, standing with her arms crossed and glaring down at Barbara, while Dick lay back across the couch and scrolled through his phone and Bizarro hovered at Artemis’ shoulder.

Frowning, Cass quickened her place to reach Barbara’s side. “What’s happening?”

“Arty!” Jason jerked free from her grip and ran to Artemis, clinging to her leg and pouting until she sighed and reached down to pick him up.

“The first time I carried you around you complained endlessly,” Artemis said, as Jason made himself comfortable in her arms.

“I don’t remember that,” Jason said.

Cass tilted her head, watching her brother curiously. He was settled, open and relaxed. “Do you remember Barbara?”

He glanced over and then down at Barbara, shaking his head and turning away to tuck his face against Artemis’ neck. “No.”

“It’s okay, Jason,” Barbara said, smiling softly. “You must be sick of everyone asking you that.”

Cass bit her lip, glancing sidelong at Dick. He was watching them, phone lowered and expression carefully blank. The tension in his body told her that he already knew what she’d picked up. Jason had remembered some people, in the beginning. Those in his recent memories, like his new team, and those from before his death, Dick and Bruce and Alfred. Even when he’d seen the rest of them, Cass had seen hints of something when he looked at them, even if Jason had come up with nothing certain.

There was nothing there, now.

“And, for what’s it’s worth, Artemis,” Barbara said. “I’m sorry you got dragged into it. If it were any other picture…”

Artemis snorted, looking away and hefting Jason higher in her arms. “It is of no matter. I have no identity of consequence in Man’s World to sully with such rumors.”

Dick sat up, raising his eyebrow. “Sully?”

Smirking, Artemis opened her mouth, but a second later Jason’s hand was there, clamping over it.

“Don’t fight,” he said. “It makes Biz sad.”

Bizarro smiled at Jason, nodding firmly.

“Besides,” Barbara said, lips twitching, “you’ll have to present a united front when Agatha gets here.”

Dick and Artemis stared at each other, expressions equally dour.

***

Preparations for Agatha Wayne’s stay at the manor were well underway. Her rooms had long been closed up, but Alfred cleaned them on a regular basis and it had taken hardly any time at all to open them up for her use. There was a quiet sort of excitement in the air surrounding the children who had not been around before Bruce and his aunt had severed contact several years ago, an excitement that was at odds with the unease surrounding Bruce and his eldest son. The situation was not…ideal, for a reunion.

Alfred came downstairs to find that not all the children were quite as excited as the rest.

“Master Timothy.” Alfred watched as the boy cringed, pausing in the doorway of the study that led down to the Batcave. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I have work to do.” Timothy clutched the laptop in his arms closer, hugging it to his chest as if afraid Alfred might steal it. “Important work that will take a long time.”

“It will have to wait,” Alfred said, stepping past him to grasp the door handle and shut it firmly, locking it and tucking the key into his pocket. “It would be very rude if you were not present when your Aunt Agatha arrives.”

“Alfred, please.” Timothy’s expression was hunted. “I grew up in these circles, I know I’m going to be ‘the Drake boy’. If this aunt of Bruce’s disapproves of Dick, it isn’t going to be better for me.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” Alfred replied, taking the boy by the shoulders and turning him around, nudging him forward and herding him back towards the den where his siblings were gathered. “Agatha Wayne has not spent a moment of her life disapproving of Master Richard and she won’t start with you. She has criticized a number of his youthful and impulsive decisions—dropping out of college among them—but she has always placed the blame for that squarely on Master Bruce and his ‘deplorable example’, I think was how she termed it.”

Timothy continued to drag his feet. “I’m a high school dropout, Alfred.”

“Not to worry, Master Timothy. I’m sure the current drama will quite overshadow your academic performance.”

***

There was a knock on the door of Bruce Wayne’s private study. It was the truly private one, a small study on the second floor near the library, the one he kept locked when he wasn’t in it and went to great pains to keep underfoot children out of. Only Dick and Jason had spent much time in it, usually only when Bruce himself was present, although Jason had been rather good at getting inside and rooting through Bruce’s things.

He eyed the door sourly, rolling his empty glass back and forth across the table. Not even a full hour and he was already being interrupted. “Come in.”

It was a day for extended family, apparently. Bruce quirked an eyebrow as Kate Kane walked into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

“Kate.”

“I saw the news,” she said, voice even and face composed, a mask of professionalism. “I hear I’m not the only one who did.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I hadn’t known the situation was so dire.”

Bruce let his eyes drift back to his glass, twisting it between his hands. “A contingency was put in place. Vicki Vale was digging around. We needed some time and this should be sufficient for the media.”

Kate scoffed, running one hand through her short red hair. “It’ll buy you some time and nothing more. How close are you to actually fixing it?”

“Is that what you’re here about?” Bruce asked. “You’re well aware of the difficulties we’re under at the moment and our split focus.”

“Bruce, this isn’t you flouncing around with a model or some random nut claiming you’re the father of her child,” Kate said. “You have a very limited time frame to make this go away quietly, and the fact that they have a photo of your son with the boy is going to create doubt even if you can release a statement that the paternity test was negative.”

Bruce stared at his glass and didn’t look up. “I’ll take your advice into account.”

Kate shook her head. “Good luck with the family, cousin.”

He heard her boots against the floor and the rattle of the doorknob as she left. He barely had a moment to refill his glass before his cell phone was ringing, buzzing away on his desk. With a sigh, Bruce jabbed one finger at the speaker button. “Don’t say one word.”

“A bit hard to have a conversation over the phone if I did that,” Clark said. “I know things over there are a bit hectic at the moment, are you okay?”

Bruce snorted. Only Clark would think to characterize the death of his greatest enemy as ‘a bit hectic’. “I’m fine.”

“How’s Jason doing? I suppose my presence would still be unwelcome.”

“Jason is fine.” Perhaps the biggest lie Bruce had told in recent memory. “His situation is not some spectacle for you to gawk at.”

“As if I would.” A pause. “About the, uh, news; was that your doing?”

“A contingency.” It felt like an excuse even to his own ears, the more he said it the less sure he sounded. “Everything is fine.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long, and I won’t call you out on blatantly lying to me,” Clark said. “But if you need anything, just call.”

A grunt was all he could manage.

He needed a miracle, but not even Superman could provide that this time.

***

The day had ground to a halt with the announcement that Aunt Agatha would be visiting. Dick waited in tense anticipation in the den, surrounded by the comings and goings of various family members. He’d spent the last hour inundated with questions about the woman, which he’d tried his best to answer, but he only had vague memories of her brief visits from when he’d been a kid. Thanksgiving one year, a two week stay back when he was thirteen, Aunt Agatha had been a sporadic presence at best.

Once Alfred had left the manor to go pick up Aunt Agatha from the airport, time could be measured by the look of increasing dread on Bruce’s face. He had emerged from his private study and been drifting aimlessly around the manor ever since, giving continuous looks towards one particular closed door and the potential freedom it held, just beyond the old grandfather clock inside.

While Dick sat on the couch and tried to relax despite his nerves, Artemis stood at the end of the couch, Jason propped on one hip. She didn’t seem to even notice his weight. Jason had dozed off on her shoulder, which was all for the better considering his grumpy mood. Bizarro was standing hunched over at Artemis’ shoulder, growing increasingly uncomfortable as time wore on and the tension continued to rise. His head suddenly jerked up, cocking to the side. “Bizarro hear car. Me am go now.”

Artemis grabbed him by the shoulder. “If I have to suffer, so do you.”

Bizarro shook his head, lips twitching. “Red Her am Little Red Him’s mom. Bizarro take care of Little Red Him’s puppy.”

Jason stirred against Artemis’ shoulder, blinking slowly and yawning. “Nessie wants to go to Scotland and see her sea monster relatives, Biz. But don’t let her walk yet, she is still injured.”

Dick shook his head at Bizarro, visions of the dog plunging to her death in the Atlantic Ocean playing in his head.

Bizarro winked, extracting himself from Artemis’ grip and disappearing quietly out of the room. Dick got to his feet and stretched his arms out above his head. 

“Take him,” Artemis said, passing Jason to Dick and rolling her shoulder out.

“You want to walk?” Dick asked, as Jason wriggled in his grip.

“No,” Jason replied, around a yawn. “I want my cake. I am owed cake.”

“You’ll get your cake.” Dick squeezed him close and then started out of the den. “Time to face the music.”

Aunt Agatha stood in Wayne Manor’s impressive entrance hall, glancing this way and that and talking quietly with Alfred. “—hasn’t changed, as beautifully maintained as ever, Alfred dear.”

“Thank you, Madam Wayne.” Alfred took Aunt Agatha’s coat and stepped back.

Bruce’s face, which had still been creased with lingering dread, smoothed over and he approached, stepping away from the crowd their family had made around the bottom of the staircase. “Aunt Agatha, it’s wonderful to see you.”

Laughing, Aunt Agatha accepted Bruce’s offered hug—as brief as expected from a Bruce who was not quite wearing the Brucie Wayne persona—and gave him a pat on the cheek. “Bruce, dear. You used to be a better liar.”

Somewhere to Dick’s left, Steph snorted.

Aunt Agatha turned to look at the rest of them, gathered awkwardly as they were. “And this must be your current brood, then?” She didn’t give Bruce a chance to answer, marching towards Dick and giving him a critical once-over. Dick plastered a smile on his face and prayed that Jason wasn’t going to cause a fuss.

“It’s been a while, Aunt Agatha. You look well.”

“Yes, yes, I look old and frail.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You, however, have finally grown into your charm, haven’t you? It suits you, much better than that fake claptrap Bruce puts on.”

Out of the corner of his eye Dick could see Steph turn away, shoulders shaking. At least someone was having a good time.

It wasn’t until Aunt Agatha’s eyes were slipping to Jason that Dick considered that they should’ve had Artemis holding him, to at least put up a pretense that the paternity test was something more than just a formality or a way to pacify the media. Jason stared back at the old woman, expression still somewhat sleepy.

“Well, aren’t you adorable?” Aunt Agatha’s voice was much softer, addressed to Jason. She’d used to speak to Dick in the same tone when he’d been younger. “And what’s your name, then?”

Jason turned his face against Dick’s shirt and hid there.

“He’s shy,” Dick said, quietly thankful that Jason had chosen that moment to go shy instead of any number of hard to explain scenarios he’d envisioned. “His name is Jason.”

Both of Aunt Agatha’s eyebrows shot towards her hairline and she glanced back at Bruce. “Jason? Interesting choice.”

Dick had been expecting that reaction. “His mother named him.”

Behind him, he felt Artemis shift and then she stepped forward, face blank. “It’s Greek. Like mine.”

“This is Artemis.” Dick bit his lip and prayed for an escape. He didn’t know how long they could go before someone said something wrong. They had three other children and assorted others to get through—even Kate was lingering in the back with an amused expression—surely Aunt Agatha would move on soon.

Aunt Agatha looked Artemis up and down appraisingly. “Well, you’re very tall. Quite impressive. You have an accent, where are you from?”

“Egypt,” Artemis said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am also of Greek descent.”

That was certainly one way to describe the Amazons.

“A model, I presume? From Richard’s time in New York?”

Artemis’ jaw tightened. “Something like that.”

“No,” Jason said, scowling and wriggling until Dick let him slip down onto his feet. He stared up at Aunt Agatha with a fierce glower. “She’s an Amazon. Like Wonder Woman.”

Dick closed his eyes. He could imagine Bruce’s teeth were probably grinding away right about now.

“Well,” Aunt Agatha said, “an Amazon to an alien princess. You certainly have a type, don’t you, Richard?”

There was no good answer to that so he stayed quiet and prayed it would all be over soon.

Jason giggled. “She doesn’t really like him.”

Dick grimaced, wondering if it would be conspicuous if he snatched Jason up and hurried off with him. What a time for him to get both chatty and indiscreet.

Aunt Agatha bent down, smiling softly at Jason. “Well, that’s understandable, isn’t it? She’s a bit more impressive than he is. No need for a fine woman to settle.”

“I suppose that is true,” Artemis said, audibly amused, and Dick hoped like hell that none of the rest of the family was recording this, but was resigned because both Tim and Barbara were witnesses and so his doom was inevitable.

Perhaps Jason didn’t remember the Aunt Agatha who had doted on him back before he’d died, but he was clearly warming to her now, grabbing her offered hand and taking it upon himself to introduce her to the rest of the family, making sure to highlight the most important facts about each of them.

“This is Damian,” Jason said, pointing at the boy standing stiffly by Bruce’s side. Poor Damian looked like he had no idea how to handle one of his father’s relatives. Considering his mother’s side, Dick figured it was entirely understandable. “Damian knows a lot about animals and he’s kind to my dog.”

Next was Duke, standing just behind Damian’s shoulder.

“Duke is nice and plays with me,” Jason said. “He is good at Lego building.”

“A true passion of mine,” Duke said, scratching the back of his head.

Jason tugged at Aunt Agatha’s hand and skipped over the rest of the group to reach Cass. “This is Cass, she reads with me and spins me around really fast whenever I want.”

Back they went to Damian’s other side, where Steph was standing, laughing softly.

“Steph has a pretty laugh and she can do better than Tim.”

Steph clapped a hand to her forehead. “Munchkin, I told you we’re just friends.”

Jason sniffed. “Even so.”

It took a few seconds of staring at Barbara before Jason spoke. “This is Barbara. I met her today and she has a cool chair and pretty hair.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Sure,” Jason replied absently, already tugging a tolerantly bemused Aunt Agatha over to Kate. He squinted at her for a few seconds before announcing: “I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m Kate Kane,” she replied, crouching and holding out a hand. “I’m Bruce’s cousin.”

“You look like an awesome vampire,” Jason said, ignoring the hand and leading Aunt Agatha over to Tim, who’d been partially hiding behind the banister. “This is Tim, he is a gremlin and yesterday I threw up on him.”

Tim’s expression could only be described as pained.

Jason turned on the spot and pointed at Alfred. “That’s Alfie. He’s the best.” Jason spun around again, facing Dick and Artemis and staring at them for a moment, brow furrowing. One of his hands came up and rubbed at his eyes, his energy beginning to lag again. Finally, he shrugged, pointing at them and saying: “Mine.”

Aunt Agatha laughed. “And what about Bruce, then? You might as well finish up everyone.”

Dick felt a creeping sense of foreboding as Jason’s expression turned speculative. “Bruce is mean. He won’t let me go to school.”

Aunt Agatha gave Bruce a sharp, narrow-eyed look. “What?”

“Yet,” Bruce said, cringing. “It’s just…temporary. It’s so close to the end of term and there are concerns about how easily Jason would adjust.”

“He’s a seven year old boy and he wants to go to school,” Aunt Agatha replied, severe. “He’ll be perfectly fine. Our family pays the place enough to fit him in even if it is May. He’d have one of your other children there, wouldn’t he? The little one, Damian, was it?”

Damian twitched, perhaps at being called ‘little’ and gave Bruce a sidelong glance. “I…currently I am home-schooled.”

He might as well have said he’d decided to give up his education and become a vegan hippie, for that was about as well as Aunt Agatha took it.

“What on Earth for?” She demanded, scowling at Bruce. “He belongs at Gotham Academy.”

“He was expelled from Gotham Academy,” Bruce replied, through gritted teeth.

“It’s like you forget who you even are.” Aunt Agatha shook her head. “Do you have any idea how much funding we’ve given that place over the years? Your son could’ve burned down a building and we could get him back in. I’ll make a call today. I’m still close with the Headmaster’s wife, of course.”

Damian opened his mouth. Dick shook his head once, sharply, and Damian grimaced and closed it, subsiding into silence.

Aunt Agatha turned and raked a considering eye over them all. “And what about the rest of you? I suppose after letting Richard drop out of college Bruce is just not bothering at all.”

Tim shrank back further behind the banister.

***

“I think this might be a serial, maybe connected to the Joker.”

Renee raised an eyebrow, putting aside her pen and taking the file that Alvarez from Homicide was holding out. “This is about the ‘natural unnatural’ deaths?”

Alvarez nodded. “It’s a lot of dirtbags dropping off at the same time.”

There had been a few, all going mostly unnoticed due to the sheer uproar and frenzy surrounding the Joker’s murder and the conspiracies cropping up in its wake. It had been a most unusual week, and it wasn’t like murders in Gotham were particularly unusual. Still, if it was a serial killer, they had picked a great time to go skating under the radar. It was worth looking into.

“They’re dropping off a little less enthusiastically than the Joker,” Renee said, flipping through the folder.

“Who wouldn’t be enthusiastic, offing that nut?” Alvarez cast a look around the office. “Seriously, is anyone here even making more than a cursory effort to find the guy who did it?”

“The law’s the law,” Renee said with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, way I see it,” Alvarez said, “whoever this was just did Gotham a big favor.”

“We still have a job to do.” Renee stood up, file in hand. “And we’ll see how thankful we are when whoever this is moves on to someone a little more popular. Thanks for the file, I’ll look into it.”

***

The sheer cacophony caused by the arrival of one elderly woman was amusing to behold. Kate had stepped off to the side, leaning against the wall beside a landscape painting she vaguely remembered her Aunt Martha had adored, and avoided all but a nod of acknowledgment from Agatha Wayne. The Kane and Wayne families were not on the best of terms, even if Bruce happened to be both.

Dick and Artemis fled the second attention was off of them, disappearing down towards the study that led to the Batcave. The rest of the family proceeded upstairs or disappeared as opportunity allowed. Kate quirked a lip in amusement at the put upon expression that flickered across Damian’s face as he realized that he would not be one of them. Agatha had always paid particularly close attention to the youngsters, Kate remembered. Just as Kate was pulling away from the wall, she caught sight of Artemis coming back down the hall, striding right past her and continuing towards the front door.

“Leaving so soon?” Kate shoved her hands in her pockets and resisted the urge to stand straighter when Artemis cut a glance back at her, gaze flicking up and down in frank assessment.

“I have done my part of this ridiculous farce. I have other things to take care of.”

“Oh? I thought Jason was your first priority?” Kate asked, moving closer. Artemis was tall, Bruce’s height at least. She’d tower over him in heels. “You’re his nighttime protector, after all.”

“He’s safe now,” Artemis replied, and then frowned. “And he is still my first priority, but I will not be able to stay here much longer.”

Kate tilted her head to one side, meeting Artemis’ hard gaze and holding it. “And what does that mean?”

“My particular brand of justice is not welcome here.” Artemis broke eye contact and opened the door. “The little one is stable enough now without my constant presence.”

Before she could reply Artemis opened the door and left, leaving Kate standing in the entry hall, staring after her.

“Huh.”

***

Tim sent a quiet prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening that Jason had decided he liked Aunt Agatha. He had exuberantly taken up her complete attention and insisted they tour ‘his’ library and, like practically everyone else in the household, Aunt Agatha had been unable to deny him. It gave Tim the opportunity he needed to escape cleanly. Bruce gave him a sharp glance as he slid away but said nothing, which Tim took as permission.

The presence of an outsider meant that he went downstairs to the locked study, quietly slipping inside and locking it up again behind him. He’d have to do his work on the Batcomputer and hope that Bruce didn’t escape Aunt Agatha before Tim was done with the footage. He’d made some good progress and wanted to get it done as soon as possible, to see if any solid leads shook out. The sooner they were done with the whole thing, the less stressed out the entire family would be, and then they could focus all their energy on their other pressing matter.

There were two separate surprises waiting for him in the Batcave. The first was Dick, in full Nightwing costume, sitting in front of the computer with his hands steepled in front of him, staring at the screen. The second was the footage he was looking at—the same video that Tim was working on.

Tim stopped at the bottom of the staircase, rooted to the spot. “I hadn’t known anyone else was looking into it.”

Dick glanced over at him, but otherwise didn’t respond.

As Tim moved closer so he could see the footage clearly, he recognized the camera the footage was taken from—a few roads over from the Water Tunnel, pointing the wrong way; into an alley and obscured by a large dumpster that took up half the screen. The rest was taken up by Artemis, caught mid-stride, leaving the alley.

“Wh—” Tim swallowed, glancing between the screen and his brother. “Did you—how long have you known?”

“Known?” Dick shrugged, grimacing and getting to his feet. “Not until I saw that.”

“But you suspected.” Tim looked at the screen again, taking a deep breath. “It’s not actually proof—”

“If you ask Artemis a straight question, you’ll get a straight answer.” Dick folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t ask, she didn’t tell.”

“Dick…”

“Sit on it for half an hour before you tell Bruce.” Dick turned away and strode off towards his motorcycle. “I have to take care of something.”

“Dick!”

His brother didn’t stop, barely pausing to put his helmet on before straddling the bike and roaring off out of the Cave, leaving Tim to stare at the frozen footage on screen and wonder how they’d not considered, not even for a moment, that Jason’s team might have all the motive they needed to kill the Joker.

***

The call came while Jim was holed away in his office, trying to make a dent in the paperwork that had accumulated in the past week, ignored and set aside in favor of dealing with the madness left behind in the wake of the Joker’s demise. He was halfway through a report, skimming the words and going over the same paragraph three times before considering getting up and getting another cup of coffee, when his phone rang.

He took off his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose before answering. “Gordon.”

“Ah, Jim.” Gotham’s current mayor, Esther Lee, sounded vaguely bemused and Jim leaned back in his chair and held back the weary sigh. None of the phone calls they’d had since the Joker’s death had been particularly enjoyable. “I just received an interesting call, from someone who…would dearly like to speak with you regarding current events.”

Why couldn’t politicians just say what they damn well meant instead of making him leap through hoops.

“Who is it?”

“The ambassador of Themyscira,” Mayor Lee replied.

Jim nearly dropped the phone. “The what.”

“Perhaps you know her better as Wonder Woman.”

Jim looked into the sad, pitiful dregs of his cup. “I’m gonna need another cup of coffee.”

***

Artemis stood on the edge of the roof of an old office building, looking out over the river that separated Gotham City from the mainland. Down below she could see the entrance to the District Water Tunnel, still cordoned off by the police. Soft footsteps sounded lightly on the roof behind her.

“I killed him once, y’know.”

Artemis snorted, not looking behind her. “You didn’t make a very good job of it, then.”

Nightwing hummed, a thoughtful noise, stepping up beside her. “He was resuscitated. I think, well, I think Batman did it for my sake, but that doesn’t absolve my actions. I still have blood on my hands and have to live with that. They just…didn’t let it stick." He paused for a moment, staring out over the water. "I think about that every time he’s hurt someone since.”

“That blood is not on your hands,” Artemis said, crossing her arms and glaring down at her feet. The entire family was full of self-sacrificing idiots. “Bringing him back, that is something that your father apparently decided to shoulder. He can be the one to answer for it. Or maybe even this wretched city, which allowed the monster free time and again.”

“Is that why you did it?” Nightwing asked. “You stormed out before I could ask.”

“I did not set out to kill him that night.” Artemis lifted her gaze, staring back down towards the tunnel. “Bizarro heard laughter; it unsettled him. He gave me the direction and I happened upon him.” She glanced at Nightwing. His face was inscrutable. “I told you I would kill him if given a chance.”

“And I told you that Jason needed you with him more.” Nightwing flashed his teeth in a bitter grin. “You got what you wanted, but what about Jason. You can’t—”

“I am well aware I will not be welcome.” Artemis laughed, a harsh, bitter thing. “Why do you think I let this utter farce of an investigation go on? I am not ashamed of my actions. I never intended to get away with it for any length of time. It gave me enough time to settle the little one, didn’t it? He barely sees me now, he will be fine when I leave.”

“That’s not true.”

“Nevertheless, it is what is happening.” Artemis sighed. The wind whipped up around them, ruffling her hair and adding a slight chill to the air. “The little one has you for comfort, Bizarro for protection. I am far more useful to him elsewhere.”

Nightwing stepped closer, suddenly intense. “What do you mean?”

“He is in danger,” Artemis said, clenching her jaw against the memory of the Harvester, the magic liquid that Jason had only been exposed to because he’d shoved her out of the way. It was her haste that had led to the Harvester’s demise, when he could’ve had crucial information, or perhaps devised a way to remove the spell safely. A long shot, considering, but they would never know, now. “As long as the magic has a hold of him, his situation is precarious.”

“Batman is—”

Artemis jerked her hand in a sharp gesture, cutting him off and glaring. “He is still entirely focused on returning Jason to normal. He might find turning his attention from changing Jason back to stabilizing the magic is time better spent. I have contacts that know magic. I will look into it.”

Nightwing swallowed. “We’re not giving up on him.”

“You need to accept reality. The old Jason is not coming back. Decide now whether you’d prefer a dead body or a living child, because those are the only options remaining to you now. I’ve already made my decision.”

The silence that descended upon them was heavy. Artemis returned her gaze to the river. “How much time do we have?”

“Not long,” Nightwing replied. “Red Robin came down to the Cave soon after you left.”

They waited quietly as the sun began its descent and the chill in the air increased, the wind still whipping up wildly around them. Somewhere in the distance a car backfired.

Nightwing cleared his throat. “What did you do with the head?”

Artemis grimaced, glancing at the canvas bag she’d taken from Jason’s safehouse. “I promised the little one that I would present him with the head of any monster that dared try to hurt him.”

Nightwing spluttered. “You—he has nightmares!”

“That’s why I didn’t give it to him right away,” Artemis replied, annoyed. “Even dead and removed from his body, the head was…distressing. I attempted to make it less so by plucking out the eyes but it had the opposite of the intended effect.”

“Oh my God.”

With a sigh, Artemis stepped back and crouched down, opening the bag and pulling out a large jar. The Joker’s head was inside it, still as unpleasant as the last time she’d bothered looking at it.

“There is absolutely no chance in hell you’re giving that thing to Jason,” Nightwing said, making a face. “Did you pickle it or something, what the hell.”

“I thought that, preserved, it might be a decent gift for Jason once he returned to normal, but that is no longer a possibility.” Artemis wrinkled her nose and set the jar down again before standing from her crouch. “I was keeping it in his fridge at the safehouse for a time. Perhaps too long before I attempted to preserve it.”

She could tell from Nightwing’s expression that he was about to be obnoxious and sarcastic and braced for it—if she could deal with Jason she could deal with his brother—but before he could speak the sound of grapple gun firing cut through the air and then Batman landed on the roof, straightening up from a crouch and regarding them, all hard lines and clenched jaw.

He focused on Nightwing first. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Nightwing pushed his shoulders back, raising his chin. “Trying to deal with this without traumatizing my little brother more than he already is.”

“Accessory to murder is not ‘dealing with this’,” Batman said, tone harsh and biting.

“Accessory?” Nightwing scoffed. “Jesus Christ, sure, for maybe an hour, if that counts.”

“At no point have I required assistance.” Artemis stepped forward, cutting in front of Nightwing. She may not have required it, but he had eased the way for her to soften her departure from the little one. If he had not, her words to him outside the motel in Georgia would have doomed her. He had played willfully blind while attempting to engage her continuously about her steady retreat from Jason’s presence, and it had made for a vexing time having to avoid his constant confrontations, but it had allowed everything to fall into place better than she had hoped. ‘An hour’ was perhaps underselling how helpful he’d been. She bared her teeth at Batman. “Perhaps you should focus your attention on more pressing matters than who put down a monster that should have been dead long ago—one who had even been dead before and only lived on because of you.”

Nightwing placed a hand on her shoulder. “Artemis—”

“You do not come into my city and kill anyone,” Batman said, pulling himself up to look larger, despite the fact that he was her equal in height. “I don’t care who or for what reason. Gotham is my city and I do not allow people like you to run amok.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan to stay.”

Nightwing moved between them, arms held out like he feared they might move to a physical confrontation.

“Stand aside.” Batman’s words were an order, cold as ice.

“Arty!” It was a voice that should not have been there.

Artemis reared back, grimacing as Bizarro landed on the roof, Jason clutched closely in his arms. Batman took one step towards them before jerking to a stop, lips twisting into a grimace at the fearful look that Jason shot him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Artemis ran a hand through her hair, glaring at Bizarro. “I explained how this was supposed to go, Bizarro!”

Bizarro shook his head, a deep furrow between his brows. “Red Her leaving. Say goodbye to Little Red Him.”

She was, for the moment, utterly speechless. This was not how she had intended this confrontation to go. Jason struggled in Bizarro’s arms until he was set on his feet. He ran at Artemis and flung himself at her at her legs, clinging to her and blinking up at her with rapidly watering eyes.

“Arty, you can’t leave me!” Jason took a great, shuddering breath. “I don’t want you to go, please don’t go.”

The words she had to explain herself died, mere ashes on her tongue. His shoulders were shaking, breathing hitching as he pleaded with her around sobs. Nightwing was crouched at his side in an instant, murmuring soothing words, but Jason held her gaze, lower lip trembling and inside her chest Artemis was sure she felt her heart break clean in two. She knelt down, taking his face between her hands. “Hush now, little one. I have to leave, but I swear to you it won’t be forever.”

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice wavered on the words and he rubbed a hand roughly over his eyes, body still trembling with sobs. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You did nothing,” Artemis said, tugging him towards her and letting him wrap his arms around her neck and cling to her, for the moment. “You are very precious to me. I need to keep you safe, but I have to leave for a time to do that. You can be brave for me, can’t you?”

“I’ll come with you,” Jason said, clinging all the tighter. “And so can Biz, and Dick, and Nessie. And my books.”

“It is too dangerous and you are far too important to risk,” Artemis said. “You will stay here with your family, and with Bizarro, until I get back.” She glanced up, meeting the lenses of Batman’s cowl. “I will return, little one. I promise you that I will not abandon you.”

It was not enough for Jason, who dissolved into more heart-wrenching sobs as Artemis picked him up and carried him over to Bizarro. Bizarro held her gaze, giving a firm nod, and then took the little one back into his arms and hugged him close.

“Take him home,” she told him and bit down on her tongue, a distraction from the pleading little boy Bizarro carried away. When she could no longer hear him she turned back to Nightwing and Batman. Nightwing was still crouched, expression twisted up and pained. Batman was glaring at her fiercely. She met his gaze and stood her ground. “The Gods themselves could not keep me from returning to him, so do not think that you will be able to stop me when I return. Your city can rot for all I care—the little one is mine to protect.”

Batman continued to glare at her and Artemis was beginning to think a fight was inevitable.

Nightwing stood up and sighed, turning to his father. “What are you even trying to accomplish, here? You think this case would ever go to trial? That the city won’t sweep it under the rug? For God’s sake, it’s not like there’s a continued risk here.”

“Another murder is not out of the question. She’s proved she’s willing and able,” Batman replied.

“Yeah? So did I.”

Batman’s face twitched, minutely, into an expression Artemis couldn’t read.

Nightwing ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I mean, honestly, putting aside whether anyone even wants to, do you think Gotham City is going to be able to prosecute a foreign dignitary?”

Artemis blinked, startled. “A what?”

Batman clenched his fists. “No one is above the law.”

“Well, you can take that up with Wonder Woman yourself.”

“What did you do?”

Nightwing shrugged his shoulders. “I made a call.”

The little one came by his dramatics honestly, because at that moment the rooftop access door swung open, revealing Batwoman, the Police Commissioner and a female detective. Batwoman strode forward, giving Artemis a quick glance before focusing on Batman.

“I’ve been monitoring the comms,” she said, placing one hand on Batman’s shoulder. “It’s out of our hands now.”

Batman turned to the commissioner, who had his arms crossed and was frowning at Artemis. “Jim?”

“She’s walking,” he said, with a shrug. “No one needs the nightmare of a diplomatic incident this would incite; not when Wonder Woman is calling up the Mayor’s office on behalf of her country and their ‘Shim’tar’.”

Artemis closed her eyes. She would be having words with Diana about getting involved in her business the next time they met.

“We have a bunch of other dead bodies this past week,” the female detective said. Artemis opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t suppose you had anything to do with those?”

“I have only killed one person in this city,” Artemis replied, “and his worth as one was questionable. I slay monsters, I do not not slaughter people.”

The detective sighed. “Thought so. Looks like we have an unrelated serial.”

“I’ll look into it,” Batwoman said, and squeezed Batman’s shoulder. “We all will.”

Batman said nothing, still and impassive as stone.

The commissioner cleared his throat and nodded to the jar, raising an eyebrow at it. “We’re going to need that head.”

It took all of ten minutes in the end, for the police to collect the head and take it away, and for Batwoman to coax Batman back into the city, which he did with one last glance at Nightwing, who remained by Artemis’ side.

“You better come back,” Nightwing said, once they were alone. “For Jason’s sake.”

“I’m leaving for his sake,” Artemis replied. The sun had fully set, leaving Gotham as dark and oppressive a sight as the first time she’d entered the city. “Take care of him until I get back. Bizarro as well.”

Nightwing nodded.

After one last look in the direction Bizarro had taken the little one, Artemis turned her back on the city and turned her focus onto her next task.

She would find a way to save Jason, one way or another.

Chapter Text

The fragile stability they had achieved was shattered in an instant.

Damian was perhaps the last to know the whole story, having been set the unenviable task of occupying Aunt Agatha while Father dealt with whatever new crisis had arisen. Aunt Agatha had thankfully claimed exhaustion and decided to retire early, taking supper in her rooms, thus missing Bizarro’s return to the manor with a distraught and screaming Jason.

It turned out to be a very good thing she did, because Jason utterly refused to be pacified and continued to alternate between great gasping sobs and loud shrieking.

Damian, freed from his father’s frighteningly intimidating aunt, surveyed the utter failure that was the rest of the family’s attempts to halt Jason’s hysterics. Jason sat in Bizarro’s arms, letting the Kryptonian rock him from side to side, while nearly every other member of the family crowded around and tried and failed to calm him down. Drake alone was off to the side, staring down at his phone with frown. Richard was missing, which was probably half the problem. The Amazon was gone as well, which was either the other half of the problem or twenty five percent, depending on Jason’s mood and if he was expecting her presence. Father likely made up the rest.

Pennyworth turned and made his way off towards the kitchen, giving Damian a brief pat on the shoulder as he walked by.

It was time someone took charge.

“Bizarro,” Damian said, at loud enough volume to be heard over Jason’s cries. He pointed to the staircase. “Take him to Nessie immediately. I will be up momentarily.” He looked around the room at the rest of his frankly useless family. “Stop crowding and panicking all over him, it makes it worse.”

Honestly.

He detoured to the kitchen to inform Pennyworth of what was needed—most of it was already being gathered, because unlike the rest of the family Pennyworth was actually competent—and then he made his way upstairs.

By the time Damian reached Jason’s bedroom, Bizarro had settled him on the bed and placed Nessie next to him. Jason had both arms around Nessie and continued to sob, face red and blotchy with tears, while Nessie licked his face and eyed Damian, whining.  

“Yes, yes,” Damian muttered, climbing onto the bed on Jason’s other side. “I’m here.”

Bizarro hovered next to the bed for a few moments while Jason continued to sob messily everywhere. There were several chairs in the room, one by the window that was only used by the Amazon when she guarded Jason at night, one close to the bed that had been dragged in early on, and a rocking chair near the bookshelf. Bizarro took a seat in the one closest to the bed and leaned back, closing his eyes. It looked like he could use a bed of his own. The fact that Jason could exhaust even a Kryptonian on a regular basis was somewhat impressive.

“What on Earth set you off this time?” Damian asked Jason, and wondered if maybe pushing Drake down the staircase might help. He took great joy in the fact that Jason held some kind of grudge against him. Not that he needed a seven-year-old’s validation, but it was obviously Todd’s true and unfiltered thoughts about Drake, unrestrained by the emotional control gained with age.

Where the gremlins came into it, Damian didn’t have the slightest idea.

“Arty is gone!” Jason took an uneven breath around the words, and then started to take rapid little gasping breaths like he was starting to hyperventilate.

“She’ll be around again, she always is.” Damian was fairly sure she couldn’t be pried away no matter how much she and Father did not like each other, or whatever issues were currently between her and Richard. If anyone was going to disappear it would be Richard, who tended to do so to avoid confrontations with Father as he usually didn’t want Damian to witness them. But at this point Damian had come to the conclusion that if Richard decided to up and go anytime soon, he’d probably whisk the child away with him.

Jason shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. “Sh-she’s gone! She left me!”

Bizarro was making no protests, face solemn and sad. “Red Her gone to find magic. Help Little Red Him.”

Oh, well, Damian supposed that was reasonable. “She’ll certainly be back then.”

Jason shook his head, scowling fiercely. “Batman made Arty go away, but she did a good thing.” His eyes took on a feverish intensity that was startling. “The clown is gone.”

Damian had thought the Joker had been banished entirely from Jason’s memory. His reaction now was much stronger than the lukewarm reception the news had received when Jason had seen it in the newspaper. “Artemis did it? I suppose that makes some amount of sense.” It should have occurred to someone at an earlier point, frankly. “But that changes nothing. She’ll be back. The Joker is not an innocent. Father will not keep her from you.”

But Jason just shook his head again before amping up into another round of sobbing. Not even cuddling Nessie or Damian’s attempt at distraction with his books could calm the child down.

By the time the door opened to let Pennyworth in, with a tall glass of water and what looked like a bowl of soup on a tray, Damian was beginning to feel frazzled from the constant crying.

“He won’t stop,” he said to Pennyworth, as the tray was set down on the bedside table. “I have done my best, but I am not good at nurturing children.”

He wasn’t Richard.

“You are much better than you think, Master Damian,” Pennyworth said, and clucked his tongue at Jason. “I’ll be back in one moment with a washcloth for the young master’s face.”

Damian sat awkwardly next to his brother, wondering if he should attempt hugging him like Richard certainly would or if giving him personal space was better; certainly sometimes being alone was his own preference, but how did he tell? He settled for grabbing Jason’s favorite toy—Sparky—out of the pile of them on the bed and tucking it into the arm Jason didn’t have wound around Nessie. Jason hugged the toy close but gave no other reaction.

Pennyworth returned with the cloth and gently tilted Jason’s face away from where he had it buried in Nessie’s fur to wipe it down. Jason squirmed, attempted to escape, but Pennyworth held him steady and soon Jason was left with a clean face that was still a bit red and blotchy from his tears. It did, at least, distract him enough that he was somewhat more calm when Pennyworth finally released him.

“Much better.” Pennyworth gave the child’s shoulder a squeeze and then reached for the glass of water, holding it steady for Jason to drink from. “You’ll feel much better properly hydrated, young sir.”

“You probably leaked all the water in your body out of your eyes,” Damian said, shifting a bit when Jason pulled away from the glass and dropped his head against Damian’s shoulder.

“That’s impossible,” Jason muttered, voice weak and raspy after so much crying. He snuggled determinedly against Damian’s side and settled there, quiet as a mouse, so much so that Damian could barely even hear his soft, uneven and shuddering breaths. He grimaced when the child sniffed and rubbed his nose against Damian’s arm. When Pennyworth offered the bowl of soup Jason just shook his head and hid his face against Damian, clutching his finger’s against Nessie’s fur and ignoring them.

“I’ll stay here,” Damian said, as Pennyworth relented and put the bowl back on the bedside table. “I’m sure Richard will not be far away.”

Damian would hunt him down himself if he had to.

Jason stayed mostly silent, bar the occasional hitch in his breathing that accompanied a fresh swell of tears. For some reason, each one increased a growing unease and feeling of helplessness that had Damian scowling and counting minutes. Just as he got to five, the doorknob rattled and then swung open with a quiet creak, letting Richard slip into the room. He shut the door soundlessly behind him and approached the bed, eyes fixed on Jason.

“Where were you?” Damian shifted under Jason’s weight, trying to extract himself and trade places with Richard.

“I had to take care of something.” Richard’s voice was enough to get Jason’s head snapping up. The boy dissolved immediately into fresh sobs and reached out with both arms, letting go of Nessie and his toy. He refused to let Damian off the bed, and hooked one arm around each of their necks and started to cry harder as Richard attempted to untangle them.

“Release me this instant,” Damian said, as the tiny arm tightened into a passably acceptable choke-hold.

It took a shameful amount of time to get Jason settled, curled in Richard’s lap and finally, finally calming as their older brother whispered soothing words and rubbed at his back. Damian eyed the hand that Richard was running up and down Jason’s spine and made a mental note about the technique. Feeling helpless in the face of an upset seven year old was shameful and would not happen again.

Sensing that asking Richard what had happened would only result in more literal tears, Damian took the opportunity to back away and leave the room.

Surely someone in the manor could tell him what on Earth had happened.

***

“No! Steph is mine!”

Damian paused in the hall, peering into the den to witness a sight that had become far too familiar over the last two days. Stephanie was attempting to leave, her book bag slung over one shoulder, but Jason had her by the hand and was determinedly attempting to drag her back into the room. Stephanie looked mostly amused by his attempts, but she did not live in the manor and hadn’t spent the last forty-eight hours hounded by a small shadow, so hers was the face of one who had not yet seen true hell. Jason twisted around, adjusting his grip on Stephanie’s arm and spotted Damian in the doorway.

“Damian,” he said, going limp and hanging from Stephanie’s hand. “You should help me.”

Damian shook his head, taking a step back. “You’ll have to wrangle her on your own. I’m leaving today to go to San Francisco.”

The words were a mistake and he could not quite believe they fell out of his own mouth while he was of sound mind and not addled by some substance. Jason immediately abandoned Stephanie, and Damian would have been pleased he ranked higher (of course he did) but he was too busy cursing himself a fool and trying to gracefully escape without incident.

If he’d left before Jason had noticed, instead of indulging his curiosity…

“Damian, you can’t leave!” He was halfway to the front door when he was tackled around the middle by a small body. “You’re my brother.”

“The Titans need me.” It felt like a feeble excuse even as he said it.

Jason sniffed, staring up at him with big watery eyes. “I need you more than they do.”

“You’re attempting to manipulate me,” Damian said, because it was getting easier for him to discern true upset from the ‘crocodile tears’ that Richard was so fond of pointing out.

Jason’s expression cleared and he poked his tongue out. “That doesn’t make it not true.”

“What are you doing here anyway, I thought you said you were going to run away.”

Scowling, Jason sent a frustrated look towards the stairs. “I’m going to! I’m going to take all my stuff and go find Arty.”

He had attempted it, several times, but was constantly stymied by the sheer amount of stuff that had accumulated in his room, all of which he believed was vital to his continued existence and therefore unable to leave behind. It was a good thing they spoiled him, Damian supposed, or Jason would have long ago grabbed the bag he kept (full of wrapped food, loose cash, extra clothes, a water bottle, and Sparky the dog) and disappeared out the window to go on his hunt.

“And what about Richard?” Damian asked. “He won’t fit in your bag either.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Stop being stupid, Damian. He has legs.”

“Which I’m not going to use to follow you on a mad quest,” Richard said, coming down the hall towards them. “And you’re not running away, either.”

“I am!”

“Nessie can’t walk yet,” Richard replied, arching an eyebrow. “Just leaving her here, are you?”

“Alfred will look after her for me,” Jason said, but he was visibly wavering in resolve and, after another glance at the staircase, ran at Richard and clung to him. “Dick, Damian is trying to leave me.”

“Oh?” Richard’s gaze shifted to Damian and he narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going, then?”

“San Francisco,” Damian replied, crossing his arms and glaring. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you, I have already received permission from Father.”

It should have been enough, but the increasing conflict between Father and Richard brought back all of his old, uneasy feelings from when Father had first returned and Richard had taken a step back, his word no longer the ultimate authority it had once been. They had maintained that status quo in relative peace, but something was changing.

It was Richard’s word that was law for Jason. ‘Dick said I could’ was the final shot in many an argument, from leaving all his Legos on the floor to keeping the damn runaway bag in the first place. It was an effective way for Jason to worm his way out of trouble or into whatever he liked, as few bothered to actually verify that Richard had, in fact, said he could. Damian felt foolish that his own pride had kept him from using the same tactic for so long. The ease and effectiveness was unparalleled. Damian had witnessed it work even on Father, who should have rightfully been the ultimate word for Jason, but somehow wasn’t.

“It’s not a good idea,” Richard said, frowning. “What the hell is Bruce planning to say to Aunt Agatha?”

Damian opened his mouth and paused, considering the question. “It did not…come up.”

His older brother rolled his eyes. “Of course it didn’t. I’ll go find him, don’t leave until we figure this out, okay?”

Richard swept upstairs towards Father’s study. Damian watched him leave and thought it very likely that he’d find his permission revoked. He really should have escaped while he had the chance.

Jason took the opportunity to latch onto his arm. “Damian,” he whispered, shooting furtive glances around. “Come help me set a trap.”

“Are we hunting gremlins again?” Damian asked, and allowed the boy to lead him off towards his room and the piles of Legos that awaited them there.

“No,” Jason replied, with great relish. “We’re going to go down to the Cave.”

“You’re not allowed down in the Cave.”

“But you are.”

“Fair.”

“We’re going to set a trap for Batman.” Jason scowled, kicking at the carpeted hall. “I hate Batman.”

They all knew Jason hated Batman. If his original aversion to their father’s other persona had not been obvious, Artemis’ disappearance had cemented a hatred that Jason would happily shout from the rooftops if given an opportunity. Despite the many and varied explanations of why, exactly, Artemis had left, Jason refused to see reason.

Batman was to blame, and that was his last word on the topic.

***

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, with the chirping of birds outside his window, and Damian banned from the Cave until further notice because ‘he couldn’t be trusted to treat the space with the seriousness it deserved’. Damian had spent the entire lecture staring past Father’s left shoulder, hideously embarrassed, and wondering how it was that he’d indulged Jason so easily. It was beneath him. Drake had been laughing. Jason had thrown a Lego at Drake’s face with unerring accuracy, leaving a red mark between his eyes, and the pride Damian had felt at the achievement had been tremendous because they’d spent about an hour launching the things from the top of the dinosaur to test trajectories, and maybe Damian was possibly beginning to understand why Richard always seemed so fond of having younger siblings.

“Damian!” Something small and brother-like landed next to him on the bed and kicked him in the side. Damian retaliated without thinking, shoving Jason away. The boy tumbled over with a squawk and went off the side of the bed, landing on the floor with a thump. For an awful moment Damian worried he’d accidentally broken Jason’s neck, but the boy just sat up and peered at him over the edge of the bed with a furious scowl. “You asshole!”

“Language,” Damian replied.

“You’re such a goody two-shoes.”

“I am not,” Damian said, affronted. “I’ve killed people.”

Jason did not look impressed. “If Bruce said to jump off a bridge you’d do it and ask how fast he wanted you to hit the water.”

“That’s not true. You’re committing slander.”

His rude little brother blew a raspberry. “’Of course, Father, whatever you say, Father’,” he said, mimicking Damian’s tone and accent with surprising accuracy. “It’s like you’ve never been in trouble. You looked like the world was ending.”

“I did not.” A thought occurred to him, now that Jason had reminded him of yesterday’s debacle. “What are you doing, anyway? You’re supposed to be grounded for injuring Drake. Confined to your room.”

“Dick said I could leave,” Jason replied, and it was a blatant lie that he wasn’t even bothering to attempt to sell it.  

“He did not.”

Jason shrugged. “Prove it!”

As annoying as Jason was being, at least he’d bounced back relatively quickly from Artemis’ departure. Perhaps the constant assurances that she had only left temporarily had sunk in. Damian threw back his covers and got out of bed, snatching Jason by the wrist and tugging him along behind him, out the door and down the hall towards Richard’s room.

“Fine, we’ll go find him.”

Jason giggled merrily. “I’m just going to say that you let me out and then he’ll blame you.”

Damian stopped, glaring down at him. “He will never believe you.”

“Everyone believes me,” Jason said, and gave him a condescending pat on the arm with his free hand. “I’m smaller and cuter than you are and I cry better.”

“Crying is not a talent you should be taking pride in.”

“I have a gift for it.”

“Crying at the drop of a hat is not a gift, it just makes you a crybaby.”

They were interrupted by Richard, just leaving his room and spotting them, quirking an eyebrow and pointing one finger at Jason. “You’re supposed to be in your room.”

“I got lost on the way to the bathroom,” Jason said, tugging his hand free and running straight for Richard, letting himself be picked up and held. He wrapped his arms around Richard’s neck and hugged him.

“He came to bother me,” Damian said, rolling his eyes at the amused expression on Richard’s face. Of course it wouldn’t matter whether anyone believed Jason if they were all too charmed by him to care. “You should be stricter with him.”

“That’s Bruce’s job,” Richard replied blithely, and Damian had to stare at him for a few seconds to make sure he was being serious, because from where Damian was standing, it certainly wasn’t Father who was playing the role of main parent for Jason, and the few times he’d tried Richard had overruled or undermined him, with the assistance of Jason’s teammates.

“I’m hungry,” Jason said, wriggling in Richard’s arms until he was set back on his feet. “Where’s Biz?”

“He’s probably not up yet,” Richard replied. “Why don’t you go get him? We’ll meet you downstairs.”

Jason nodded and scampered off down the hall, already shouting Bizarro’s name. Considering the typical hearing on a Kryptonian, it was a wonder that Jason’s teammate hadn’t lost his already.

“Are you heading to the Titans today?” Richard asked as they made their way down to the dining room the family usually took breakfast in.

Damian nodded. “Father will explain my absence as a ‘sleepover’ at a friend’s home. I will have to shorten the length of my stay with the Titans, but it’s doable, considering the situation. It is demeaning but an acceptable explanation to pacify his aunt.”

“Our great-aunt,” Richard said, grinning as Damian made a face.

“I prefer not to think about it.” Damian scowled. “At least you don’t have to share DNA with the woman.”

“There are worse people on your family tree,” Richard said. “There’s nothing wrong with Aunt Agatha.”

“Well, there’s nothing right with her either,” Damian muttered.

Richard was laughing, of course he was, but a sudden scream had them both freezing and turning back the way they’d come. Richard’s expression went tight and worried. “That was Jason.”

Damian nodded and followed his brother as he darted off upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time and racing down towards the guest room that had been set aside for Bizarro’s use.

Bizarro was on the bed inside, still and silent, while Jason leaned over him and shook his shoulder, sobbing helplessly.

“He won’t wake up!” Jason scrambled out of the way as Richard took his place. “Why won’t he wake up?”

“Get Alfred,” Richard said to Damian, “and anyone else you see to grab Jay, okay?”

Damian nodded and sprinted off. He could hear Jason’s wailing in the background. At least rallying the others should be quick with the child’s cries filling the manor. Father was already coming out of his study when Damian ran by, charging down the stairs.

“What happened?”

“Bizarro won’t wake up,” Damian said over his shoulder, leaping the last bit of the banister and nearly slipping on the floor below when his socked feet almost went out from under him.

Pennyworth was just coming out of the kitchen and frowned at him. “What on Earth—”

“There’s something wrong with Bizarro,” Damian said. “He’s in the guest room, but you should be able to follow Jason’s shrieking.”

“I’ll go right now,” Pennyworth replied, detouring back to the kitchen to grab one of the first aid kits.

It seemed they could not catch a single break before the next crisis seized them by the throat.

***

“Clone degeneration,” Drake said, and there was something in his voice that told Damian this was not the first time he’d heard such a term. “Can we do anything about it?”

Father’s jaw worked and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were gathered in the den in the aftermath of stabilizing Bizarro and moving him down to the med bay in the Cave. The removal of the security of his second teammate had sent Jason into a tailspin and his first act upon being told he could not go down to the Cave while Bizarro was being tended to was to throw a priceless statue through a window. Ever since, Jason had withdrawn thoroughly and now clung to Richard and refused to be pried from his side. A single moment separated from his older brother resulted in ear-splitting screams and sobbing and it had just been easier, in the end, for Richard to carry him around while they waited for news. The stress of it was weighing on Father’s shoulders.

“I’ve called in an expert,” Father said, after a moment. “Unfortunately, Cadmus no longer exists as it once did, and while S.T.A.R labs has some records, the solution that worked on a Kryptonian and human hybrid might not be directly transferable to a full Kryptonian clone. It will take some time for us to figure out if it’s a viable solution.”

“Does Bizarro have that time?” Damian asked. The last he had seen, Bizarro had been rapidly declining in health. The steady onset had gone unnoticed—Bizarro had become increasingly exhausted throughout the last two weeks, but it had not been commented upon by the human populace of the manor. Father had his attention split by Joker and Jason’s situation and had no attention to spare for wondering why a full Kryptonian needed so much rest. Bizarro was an imperfect clone, but it had been a warning that had gone unnoticed.

“That’s what Clark is here for,” Father replied, and on cue the doorbell rang.

It was a good thing that Aunt Agatha had left early that morning to spend the day catching up with her high society friends, for surely the beady-eyed old woman would notice the cacophony surrounding the latest incident. Artemis leaving suddenly to take care of ‘family matters’ had been easily explained and accepted, and Jason’s subsequent reaction looked on with sympathy, but they had kept Bizarro carefully away from the woman so far, so his very presence would need explaining.

Clark Kent was led into the den by Pennyworth. Jon Kent, who Damian sometimes deigned to call ‘friend’ was tucked under one arm like a large, exceedingly talkative football. Kent nodded to Father. “I have a tag-a-long, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Father replied, waving a hand. “If he breaks anything we’ll just feed him to the bats.”

Jon made a spluttering noise. “B-bats?”

“He’s joking,” Kent assured his son, setting him on his feet and nudging him towards Damian. “Why don’t you go see your friend?”

Joy.

Father was giving Damian one of those looks of his, so he sighed and gestured for Jon to follow him from the room and leave the ‘adults’ to talk. He made sure to glare at Drake as they left. He got rolled eyes in return and resolved to assist Jason in setting up his next anti-gremlin trap. Hopefully his younger brother’s foul mood would result in more lethal application of skills that Damian knew he’d retained despite his unreliable memory.

“Do you really have a clone of my dad in your basement?” Jon asked, sounding all too excited by the idea.

“None of your business.” Damian stomped upstairs, feeling vaguely unsettled by the question and not sure why. Deciding that his room was a sanctuary that Jon Kent was not yet worthy of beholding, Damian turned towards the library and led him in there instead. The tall shelves and scent of old books practically enforced quiet on anyone who entered, a welcome trait that Jon needed practice in.

They were not, however, the only ones in the library. Richard was sitting in one of the armchairs, right where the sun was streaming in through the window, a welcome warmth in the large room, which had a tendency to keep a slight chill even during the height of summer. Jason was sitting in Richard’s lap, staring down at the book Richard was reading to him with dull eyes. A more miserable child had surely never been seen.

“Who’s that?” Jon asked, poking Damian in the back with one finger.

Damian tossed him an annoyed glance and hurried to join his brothers. “Jon and his father are here to…help.”

Jason tucked his face away against Richard’s shirt and stayed quiet.

Richard raised an eyebrow at him and Damian decided to make the executive decision that Jon Kent was too much of a blabbermouth to be trusted with such an important family secret.

“This is my brother Richard,” Damian said, trying not to smirk, “and the small child is Jason, his son. He’s very shy.”

Jason made no move in response, but Richard’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline, before he shrugged and smiled at Jon.

“Don’t mind the little guy, Jon.” Richard closed and set aside the book he’d been reading. “It’s been a tough few days here.”

It took exactly eight minutes of Jon’s chattering before Jason was drawn out of hiding. He squinted at the newcomer for a solid minute and a half before giving Damian a questioning look.

“This is Jon Kent,” Damian said, not sure what Jason was looking for. “I work with him occasionally.”

Richard chuckled, which he would pay for dearly the next time Damian cornered him long enough for a spar, and Jason nodded, very slowly, staring at Jon with narrowed eyes.

“Damian is mine,” he said, and reached out to grab Damian’s hand and tug him closer. “You can’t have him.”

“That’s okay,” Jon replied cheerfully. He nodded at the shirt Jason was wearing, resplendent with some animated creature. “What’s your favorite Pokemon? Do you play the games? What about the show—”

And so it began. Damian heaved a sigh and grabbed a book off the shelves to read, claiming the seat next to Richard and listening with half and ear as Jon did his best to talk Jason to death while the child stared back at him expressionlessly from his place in Richard’s lap.

At some point Jason must have deemed him an acceptable convert, for he reached out and grabbed Jon by the arm and demanded they go play with Legos.

“I will teach you how to make the gremlin traps,” Jason said, sliding out of Richard’s lap. “It’s very important because Tim is one.”

“Cool, I love Lego,” Jon said, and he didn’t even look confused about the situation. Perhaps his relative youth enabled him to understand Jason on some level that Damian had long outgrown.

Jason was not quite ready to let Richard leave his sight, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him along. He sent Damian a vexed look when he did not stand and follow, stamping his foot. “Damian! You come too.”

“You are far too young to be giving me orders,” Damian replied, but he set his book aside and followed only because it looked like they would be creating weapons against Drake and he’d already been dealt a mortal injury by him today and it could not stand.

He ignored the thoroughly amused look that adorned Richard’s face.

***

It was Father who knelt down in front of Jason and explained what would be happening. Clark Kent hovered near the doorway, looking sympathetic to Jason’s tears, while Richard crouched behind Jason and let the boy lean back against him.

“It’s just until we fix what’s wrong with him,” Father said, while Jason shook his head rapidly and started to hyperventilate. “Clark will take good care of him.”

“I promise,” Kent said, although there was a flash of something across his face that Damian couldn’t recognize. He narrowed his eyes and decided that leaving Kent unsupervised was not a wise choice, no matter how much Father may trust him.

“You can’t take Biz,” Jason said, choking the words out while tears ran freely down his face. “Arty is gone, you can’t take Biz too!”

“I’m sorry, Jason,” Father said, “but this is what has to happen to help your friend.”

Damian could see the anger blossom, spreading across Jason’s face. The tears kept running but his expression twisted into a vicious snarl and he glared at Kent. “If you hurt Biz, I’ll kill you, Fake Bizarro!”

“That’s a new one,” Kent said, cheerfully enough, while Father immediately admonished Jason for his behavior.

“No!” Jason kicked Father in the chest, hard enough to unbalance him briefly, before pulling away from Richard and running upstairs. “I hate you!”

The expression that stole across Father’s face at the words was one Damian had never seen before and dearly wanted to never see again. Father looked old as he slowly got to his feet, sighing and turning back to Kent.

“Let me know as soon as you have any progress.”

Kent clasped Father by the shoulder, squeezing briefly. “Of course. Don’t worry, we’ll fix it.”

Father nodded and then Kent was corralling Jon and leaving.

The mood left behind was dour.

“I’ll go settle Jason,” Richard said, turning to go upstairs.

Damian stared at the front door for a moment longer before shaking himself from his thoughts and hurrying after Father as he started down to the Cave. “Father! I’m still going to the Titans today.”

Father paused, looking back at him. “All right. When will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” Damian replied. “I’ll be taking my assignments for the week with me, just in case I decide to do some team building missions and don’t make it back at the end of the weekend.”

Father hesitated for a moment, but nodded his permission, turning around and disappearing down into the study, missing the smirk that spread across Damian’s face.

The Titans team that Damian was attempting to corral did need a mission, after all. What better way to test their mettle than set them up against Superman himself?

Chapter Text

Bruce didn’t think he’d ever spent so much time in Wayne Enterprise’s offices in recent memory. The weekend had been hell, dealing with crisis after crisis and continuing to hit roadblocks in his work down in the Cave, and the current inhabitants of the manor weren’t helping. Disappearing Monday morning to the office and not leaving until late at night, going straight on patrol, had enabled him to avoid Alfred, Agatha and Dick all cleanly and without conflicts, and Jason…well, Jason didn’t want to see him and that was for the best.

Getting attached was a mistake. Once Bruce figured out the spell, found some way of fixing it, the small child would disappear and his son would return. The last thing Jason needed was more ammunition to claim the family didn’t want him around. The family would mourn the young child, vulnerable and easy to love, but they couldn’t keep him. He couldn't keep him. It wasn’t fair to Jason to be compared with an idealized reflection and be found wanting.

The computer in the Cave was running when Bruce returned that evening, having managed to dodge everyone in the household, including Alfred. His lips pulled into a grimace when he saw that it was not Tim or Duke taking advantage of Bruce’s absence to work on their own cases at the computer, but Dick, going through Bruce’s files on Jason’s current situation.

“I encrypted those,” Bruce said, keeping his voice deliberately mild because if there was one thing the last two weeks had reminded him of, it was his eldest son’s temper. It had never really gone anywhere, but Dick had started to rein it in more and more over the years. Those careful reins had frayed and Bruce could see the fire in Dick’s eyes, ready to burn him at any given moment.

It seemed Dick had picked that moment to be now.

“You didn’t really think that would stop me, did you?” Dick spun the chair around, rotating it back and forth slightly with one foot in an agitated motion, a habit he’d had since childhood. “Or any of the rest of them?”

“It was more to encourage you all to stay out of it,” Bruce replied. “I’m well aware that there’s little I can do to force you.”

The Justice League codes had found their way to Dick easily enough.

“Enough about me,” Dick said, smiling tightly, “let’s talk about you.”

There was more than enough to talk about Dick, really, although Bruce had hoped that by avoiding a confrontation regarding his…inaction in wake of the Joker’s death, that Dick would likewise stop pushing about how Bruce chose to conduct himself regarding Jason’s situation. Bringing it up now would be a war of attrition between them and Bruce had tried to stop engaging in those with his son after Jason had died.

Jason was alive now and irony of ironies, Dick was perfectly willing to go back to that old, painful status quo in his name.

“You’re avoiding Jason,” Dick said, stilling the motion of the chair and staring Bruce down, despite the fact that only one of them was standing. “You switched your focus from the Joker onto finding a way to fix him, but you’ve barely spent any time with him. You think he hasn’t noticed?”

“I don’t think he cares,” Bruce said, biting his tongue on the mention of Jason’s distraught words to him when Bizarro had been taken away. They’d been said in a moment of distress and Dick would leap on them as proof of his point. “His memory has been getting worse, he bonded with you well enough. My presence is unnecessary.”

“His memory has mostly stabilized,” Dick replied, and he chewed on his lip for a moment, distracted. “It’s not a sieve, Bruce.”

“He’s even forgotten the Joker.” Not completely a bad thing, for the child. It meant he was sleeping better. It wasn’t a good thing for whatever of the real Jason was buried beneath the magic. They had no idea how permanently the effects of the spell might be on his mind, once reverted.

“Not completely.” Dick shrugged. “But the Joker is worth forgetting, now. It’s not…he’s not becoming a blank slate or whatever it is you’re worried about in your notes there. He still knows how to put together a gun, for God’s sake.”

Ice crawled up his spine. “You let him—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Dick rolled his eyes. “He was watching something on the television and said they were doing it wrong. You really think I’d hand my seven year old brother a gun?”

“It’s not enough to be conclusive.” Bruce crossed his arms. “He’s retained more subconscious information, but who knows for how long.”

Dick shoved himself out of the chair and stood to his full height; still shorter than Bruce, but that had never troubled him before. “I think it’s pretty conclusive, actually. He’s hasn’t forgotten you , has he?”

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed that despite his best wishes to avoid it, they would be having this fight after all.

“You’re attached,” Bruce said, as calmly as he could despite the ire that was beginning to bubble inside his gut. “That’s understandable. But that child is not Jason—he is not even a real child. To take advantage of him in that state, when I know damn well that the real Jason wouldn’t let me within six feet of him without a fight, would be failing him. I have clawed back what little shreds of a relationship with my son as I could manage and I’m not willing to sacrifice it all for a temporary indulgence!”

“Of course he’s real!” Dick stepped forward, getting in Bruce’s face. “He’s Jason and he’s real. It doesn’t matter what form he’s in, it’s Jason. He didn’t magically get replaced with a goddamn cuckoo, Bruce!”

“That’s not true, Jason would never—”

“If he’d hit his damn head and lost all his memories you wouldn’t be saying this,” Dick replied. “What’s the difference? The magic of it all freaks you out too much to admit that you miss him, back when he was little and he loved you without reservation and didn’t know yet what a colossal fuck up you are? He was always going to grow up and realize that, Bruce, just like the rest of us. He just died before he could.” Dick took a shuddering breath. “And then he came back, and look what happened. He figured it out anyway.”

Bruce clenched his jaw so hard for a moment he worried his teeth might give out and be crushed under the rage that was building like the eruption of a volcano. It had been a long time since anything Dick said to him had angered him this much. “Don’t you dare—”

“—You’re failing him now!” Dick’s voice echoed through the Cave. “You’re so worried about what he’s going to think if we manage to change him back to normal that you’re ruining things with him now. He’s not going to thank you for it. It’s Jason, Bruce. He’s not going to think you did it out of respect for his opinion. He’s going to think you did it because you don’t love him. What are you going to say then?”

His hands were trembling by his sides, but whatever he was going to say—something awful, probably, something he shouldn’t ever say to his child, not even Dick, who had always straddled a different line than the younger ones, his first Robin—was lost at the sound of footsteps, sharp and quick on the stairs that led to the manor.

A small boy was running up them.

“Jason!” Dick shoved past Bruce, after the boy, and without thinking Bruce reached out, clamping his hand down on his son’s shoulder. Dick’s muscles tensed under his hand.

“We’re not done.” He did not have it in him to do this again.

“Yes, we are.” Dick shook him off, making for the stairs. “I’ve said what I wanted to say and I don’t want to hear your justifications. In the end, Bruce, it’s not going to be me you have to answer to.”

The sight of Dick storming off out of the Cave was a sadly familiar one.

***

In the end, he took the easy way out. Batman went on patrol.

The entire time his mind buzzed with the memory of the fight, while slow, crawling guilt made its way up his throat, choking him. The words spoken between he and Dick in anger were not ever meant to be overheard by Jason, not then and not now, not even by this temporary version of him.

It was a school night, so the comms were silent of chatter of the younger members of the family. Oracle was working but spoke little, Red Robin was patrolling but turned in early, and what Batwoman was doing she declined to disclose and Batman didn’t care to pursue. The alone time should have been a relief but it just let his mind continue to whirl.

The time he normally ended patrol came and went. Batman lingered on top of Wayne Tower, staring over the city as the sun began to rise.

By the time he finally returned to the Cave, the routine patrol already pushed to the back of his mind, he’d resolved to at least apologize to Jason for his words. Hurting the child had never been his intention. The Cave was deserted, but that wasn’t surprising at this time of the morning. Bruce pushed it to the back of his mind as he climbed the stairs up to the manor, emerging into the quiet study. He left the room, locking it securely behind him. Agatha’s presence was an inconvenience he’d not had to consider for a long time. She was unlikely to venture into Thomas Wayne’s old study, but he couldn’t afford to be slack. She was a canny woman.

He could hear people moving about the house; far more than this time of the morning warranted. The air was thick with tension.

Stephanie rushed by, towards the kitchen. She glanced at him and grimaced, halting in place and wringing her hands. “Jay’s missing.”

“He’s what ?”

“Can’t talk, searching for the munchkin.” Stephanie rushed off and was out of his sight a second later.

Tim was in the den, alternating between glancing at his phone and looking under the couch cushions. He flushed when he saw Bruce watching. “Er…I have a good reason for looking here, I swear.”

Bruce shook his head, turning around and heading up the stairs towards Jason’s room.

Inside, Dick was turning over Jason’s bookshelf and desk, looking through the papers covered with childish scrawling that Jason had left behind. He glanced up when Bruce entered the room, stone-faced. “He woke up early and rabbited.”

“Are you sure he’s not just hiding?” Bruce wouldn’t have been surprised to find Jason curled up somewhere, hiding away from the world and sulking. His greatest hurts didn’t always result in anger and confrontations; Jason was just as likely to retreat to lick his wounds in isolation. It hadn’t been good for him, then or now.

Dick shook his head. “He took the bag with him.”

The bag that Dick insisted on letting Jason have; the one packed with all he’d need if he wanted to run. “I told you that was a bad idea.”

“It made him feel more secure. He would’ve gone with or without it.” Dick stepped back from the desk and sighed. “He’s seven, he can’t go far. I’m going down to the Cave to make sure he doesn’t fancy himself a motorbike thief.”

Tim barreled into the room, a bag of gummy worms in one hand and a note in the other. “Lego trail went cold, the little shit is smart.” He held out the note, which read ‘don’t eat after midnight’ in childish, blocky letters written in crayon.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow. “He left a trail?”

“When I say ‘woke up early’ I really mean ‘planned his escape all night’,” Dick said. He ran his hand over his face and then pushed past Bruce and Tim. “I’m going to the Cave.”

Tim set the bag of gummy worms down on Jason’s desk. “He can’t have gotten far, I didn’t go to sleep until four and the Lego weren’t set up then.”

“Where’s Alfred?”

“He took one of the cars,” Tim replied. “If Jason decided to make a break for it, there’s no other way to get to Gotham than the main road.”

Gotham City was the last place Bruce would’ve thought Jason would want to go. The Joker might have been mostly forgotten, banished to the realm of barely remembered nightmares, but a certain apprehension about the city still remained. Since the regression Jason did not seek to go very far from his chosen guardians at all.

But what did Bruce know; he’d made the boy run away, after all.

Bruce passed Cass coming out of the library; she shook her head and darted down the hall.

Duke was outside on the patio, holding Titus by the leash. Damian’s dog was straining towards the pen where Nessie was contained, the small dog barking at painful decibels, staring off over the grounds.

“I was thinking maybe Damian had taught him something useful,” Duke said, pulling Titus back. “But he just wants to play. Come on, Titus, let’s go inside. Maybe without that yapping you’ll concentrate.”

Titus let out a mournful sound, but let Duke drag him off inside.

Jason’s dog continued to bark, pawing at the the edge of the pen. Funny, it wasn’t the side closest to where Titus had been. Bruce let his eyes follow the direction the dog was staring off at; the wooded area further off in the distance, less maintained than the carefully pruned plants and maintained lawn that saw regularly hosted parties. The perfect place for a dejected seven year old to go hide.

“Good girl,” Bruce said, giving the dog a pat on the head before starting off at a quick pace. Who knew what kind of trouble Jason could get himself into there. A normal seven year old was delicate enough, not taking into account Jason’s current condition.

Bruce couldn’t even remember the last time he’d ventured out this far. The area was thick and overgrown with trees and shrubs. Wayne Manor was situated on an extensive property and the further out from the manor the more wild and natural the grounds became. Miles underneath, the extensive cave network was protected from inquisitive eyes by the fact that the entire area was private property that Bruce went to great pains to keep that way; private, and secluded.

The ground under his feet was uneven and soft—there had been some rain the night previous, he recalled, enough to make the air feel heavy and damp and his feet slide ever so slightly on moss covered roots, exposed to the elements as the trees grew large and strong. There was no birdsong on the air, which gave him hope. Bruce strained his ears for the slightest sound, catching what he thought might be a miserable sniffle.

“Jason!”

He didn’t get an answer, but stumbled across the boy only a minute later as he came across a sharp drop that led to a little gully. Jason sat at the bottom, curled up in a tight ball against the trunk of a tree, cradling his wrist to his chest and crying quietly into his knees.

“Jay.” The relief was enough to make his knees weak. Bruce reached out and grabbed a sturdy looking branch to keep his balance as he started to carefully make his way down to the boy.

Jason looked up, eyes wet and face blotchy, and hiccuped. “Dad?”

The word hit him like a punch in the gut and Bruce had to brace himself against the tree for a moment before continuing. He had never deserved the title less than he did now.

“Wait there, Jay,” he said, as Jason started to uncurl. “I’ll be right there, I promise.”

It was a promise he could thankfully easily keep and it was only a few seconds longer before he was on more stable ground and could reach Jason, crouching beside him and zeroing in on the arm Jason was clutching so carefully.

“Let me look.” Bruce coaxed the wrist away from Jason’s careful hold and examined it. Jason shifted and whimpered a bit as he pressed against the tender area close to the joint that was starting to swell, but a cursory look over it showed it was likely only a sprain. “You’re fine, you’re going to be fine, okay?”

Jason nodded, tears still streaming down his face. He looked pale and exhausted. He’d been out here for a fair amount of time before Bruce had found him, judging by the state of him, covered in dirt, tears and damp. Bruce’s heart felt like it had shattered in his chest. He’d done this. To his own child. Yet, when he opened his arms Jason came easily, let Bruce pick him up securely and start to carry him out of the gully, pausing only to snatch up the bag that Jason had left sitting next to him against the tree trunk.

“I’m so sorry, Jay,” Bruce whispered, pressing a kiss against soft hair that was curling more than usual due to the moisture in the morning air.

Jason sniffled, tightening the arm he had around Bruce’s neck. “I want Arty and Biz.”

“I know.” He could feel Jason’s breathing speed up, a warning sign of new hysterics. “I’m sorry, Jason. They’ll be back.”

Small fingers wound their way into the hair at the back of his neck and clung there. Jason drew in a shaky breath. “And Dick, where is he?”

“At the house,” Bruce replied, shifting Jason slightly so he could see the uneven ground better. They were near the edge of the woods, closer to where the wild, untamed growth gave way to the pristine lawns and gardens. “He’s very worried about you.”

The minute they could hear and see the dog, still pawing at the pen and barking, Jason burst into tears so suddenly Bruce almost jumped.

“I left Nessie,” he said, around deep and gasping sobs, ignoring Bruce’s somewhat bewildered attempts to shush him. “I’m so sorry, Nessie!”

The dog started barking even more frantically, drawing Dick out of the house. He took one look at Bruce, carrying a sobbing seven year old in his arms, and sprinted towards them.

“Thank God, is he okay?” Dick matched Bruce’s pace, rubbing one hand down Jason’s back.

Jason was even crying harder now, mixing Dick’s name in with the dog’s in his stream of apologies. Bruce was glad his own name was missing, if only because the last thing he deserved from Jason was those words, not when Bruce could spend the rest of his life and never apologize enough for all the ways he continued to ruin his relationship with Jason.

Tim appeared next, eyes wide in alarm as he took in Jason’s state and the arm that Jason was still holding gingerly. “Should I call the hospital or something?”

“It’s a sprain,” Bruce replied. “He’ll be fine.” The hospital was all too tempting, but the Cave would do well enough. He could run better tests on the magic down there, at any rate.

“I’ll grab Nessie,” Tim said, darting off towards the pen and the mortally offended dog, who was not best pleased that they’d carried her favorite human straight past her.

Alfred stood in the kitchen doorway, blocking the way. “The young master doesn’t need to be subjected to the Cave quite yet, not in that state. It’s much more pleasant up here. I’ve set a med-kit in the den. I’ll make tea.”

“I want hot chocolate,” Jason said, and rubbed his snotty nose on Bruce’s shirt collar.

“Of course you can have hot chocolate, Master Jason.”

Tim put the dog on the couch in the den, normally something Alfred would frown on, but Bruce supposed a lot of exceptions were being made for Jason, lately. He set Jason down beside the dog and the boy went easily, immediately switching his gaze to Dick and holding out his uninjured arm until his older brother sat down, pulling Jason into his lap letting him curl up there, his good hand catching and winding around the collar of Dick’s shirt. Only then did Jason relax, tension bleeding away all at once to leave him blinking tiredly and reaching for Tim when the older boy started to back away.

Tim paused, cocking his head to the side. “Uh, did you need something else?”

“My gremlin,” Jason said, frowning. “You can’t leave.”

Tim blinked, several times, appearing completely poleaxed. “That’s like…the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Dick chuckled, pressing a kiss against Jason’s temple. “You can be sweet, little wing.”

Jason scowled. “No, I am sour like gummy worms.”

“I guess I could stay,” Tim said, casting a glance around the room, eyes catching on the PS4. “We can play some more games.”

“Okay,” Jason said, exhaustion dripping off the word. Bruce bet he wouldn’t last another half hour before he was asleep, game or no game. He sat across from Dick on the coffee table, opening the med-kit and pulling out some disinfectant and bandages. “I don’t want that stuff,” Jason said, kicking at the bottle in Bruce’s hand when he brought it near. “It stings.”

“That just means it’s working,” Bruce replied, gently pulling Jason’s arm straight and rolling back the sleeve of his tattered hoodie. It was thankfully not the Wonder Woman one, as any rip in his favorite would likely have involved a lot more screaming. Once Jason’s arm was bared Bruce grimaced at the tiny scrape running up the length of it. It was thin and looked like it had barely bled, but any injury was one too many, and Jason was lucky a fall down that gully hadn’t broken his neck. Jason suffered through the scrape being cleaned and his wrist bandaged with surprising patience, waiting until Bruce pulled away before snatching his arm back and reaching out eagerly for the hot chocolate Alfred presented him with.

Tim sat at Dick’s side, controller in hand, and let Jason select the game they would play.

“I got you a new bag of gummy worms,” Jason said. “Did you like them?”

“Er, they weren’t really mine to—” Tim paused, glancing between Jason’s expectant expression and Dick’s arched eyebrow. “I mean, yes, I loved them. Thank you.”

“Don’t eat them after midnight.” Jason frowned. “I don’t know why, though.”

Bruce took a seat in an armchair and sank back, closing his eyes and relaxing, just slightly, for the first time since the disastrous fight with Dick.

***

Jason stayed awake longer than Bruce expected.

He remained in Dick’s lap, passively watching Tim play one of the video games. His fingers drifted towards his mouth every so often, but Dick always intercepted them before the boy could start chewing on them. Soon enough, though, his eyelids grew too heavy and he turned in Dick’s arms, muffling a complaint into his shoulder. Dick rubbed his back a few times, eyes drifting to meet Bruce’s gaze, before he stood up with Jason in his arms and nodded to the door.

“I’m going to settle him, then we should probably talk.”

On the couch, eyes fixed on the television screen, Tim snorted. “I don’t think you two should ever talk again, actually.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, congratulations Tim, you’re on babysitting duty.”

Tim dropped the controller. “I thought we agreed I wasn’t allowed to babysit anymore.”

“Jason’s going to be asleep,” Dick replied, rocking the boy in his arms when he stirred at the sound of his name. “And you’ve been promoted from the gremlin to Jason’s gremlin, and it comes with new perks.”

“Perks?” Tim got to his feet with a sigh. “It doesn’t sound like perks to me.”

“I’ll be in the Cave,” Bruce said, waiting until the boys had cleared out of the room before getting out of the chair and lumbering tiredly down to the Cave. He was exhausted, lack of sleep and emotional stress compiled together to leave his limbs weak and brain buzzing faintly. He was not really in any good state to handle another discussion with Dick, but if they didn’t sort this out now, it would fester and Jason would be effected, and Jason had suffered enough for Bruce’s terrible decisions over the years.

He sat down in front of the computer and pulled up the files for the open cases he’d been neglecting, but soon enough found his attention drifting. Jason’s files were still open—they were always open, wouldn’t be closed until he fixed him—and Bruce read back over the latest information, that Constantine had received the sample Bruce had sent and corroborated Zatanna’s insight, that experiments with the substance proved unpredictable and unstable, that it was the work of a madman, never meant to be used on a person…

It looked just as hopeless as it had the last time Bruce had looked at it. Alfred had told him to consider alternate avenues, widen his win scenarios, but looking at all the information, he wondered if that was even possible.

The spell was so volatile in nature that it might kill Jason with no provocation. Even if Bruce turned his focus away from reverting it, accepting that he couldn’t change Jason back, was it even possible to stabilize it, when it’s very nature had people of Zatanna’s caliber balking?

“Still nothing?”

Bruce hadn’t heard Dick approach, but that wasn’t unusual, considering his distractions and Dick’s typically light feet. “Not yet.”

“Have you considered—”

“I don’t think it would make much difference,” Bruce said, putting his face in his hands and sighing. “If there exists something that could stabilize it so easily, surely it wouldn’t be much harder to revert him, after that? But so far every indication I’ve found is that touching this spell would be akin to drop-kicking a grenade into a nuclear reactor.”

“Artemis is looking into it.”

“Good luck to her,” Bruce replied. “I’m not giving up, not on Jason. Not yet.”

“But you’ll consider—”

“—yes, of course.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’ve never meant to hurt him.”

A hand grabbed his shoulder, squeezing. “Bruce? Are you okay?”

“He called me ‘Dad’.” It was not a word he felt he’d earned, not with the Jason that was sleeping upstairs, not with the nineteen year old he’d barely started to reforge a relationship with. Maybe the one who had died, but the mere fact that he had showed just how undeserving he was of the title. A proper father would not blithely leave a fifteen year old boy with a woman he’d never met, on the word that she was his biological mother and could therefore be trusted with the safety of his child. He’d spent years cautioning the children that followed to be cautious, to not be reckless, like Jason’s actions after Bruce had left him behind were really the problem. Bruce had been the reckless one, the negligent parent who hadn’t done enough to help Jason when it mattered, and then dropped the ball again in Ethiopia.

Dick shifted, moving closer. “You don’t look happy about that.”

“I failed him again.” The words were bleak. The memorial case was not longer in the Cave, but his eyes sought out the space it had left behind regardless.

“Because he hurt his wrist? Bruce, it’s barely a sprain.”

Bruce laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “I couldn’t keep him safe. He was nineteen. He should’ve been in college. Instead he felt he had to leave Gotham because I couldn’t...I couldn’t keep him safe from the Joker. I had just got him back—I don’t deserve the title. I could barely consider myself his father before this happened, and I certainly don’t deserve it now.”

For a moment silence reigned. Perhaps it was his blunt honesty that had stolen Dick’s ire. Well, his next suggestion would certainly fix that.

He swiveled the chair around, looking up to meet his eldest son’s eyes. “How much do you think Jason would hate me if I threw him in the Pit again?”

Dick’s eyes widened, a genuinely shocked expression flickering across his face before he locked it back down. “The Lazarus Pit? Are you insane?”

“I’m not insane, Dick. I’m desperate.” Bruce stood up, putting his hands on Dick’s shoulders and squeezing. “You don’t have the baggage with him, it’s easier for you to look at him and just see Jason. I’m glad you can do that. I’m glad he has you and his other siblings, his teammates even. It’s not like that for me, Dick. Jason and I…too much has happened for that.”

“What are you saying, Bruce?”

“I cannot let myself forget what I’m going to lose if I can’t fix this.” There were tears, prickling at the corner of his eyes. Dick saw them, Bruce could tell by the way his son’s shoulders jolted under his hands. “This is not a second chance. This is a second loss.”

Dick tilted his head back, and maybe he was tearing up as well, Bruce couldn’t see beyond the blurring of his own eyes. “He’s not going to die, and even if he stays like this, his memories are there, I know they are. He’s Jason.”

“I know,” Bruce replied. “But he won’t be my Jason. You understand that, don’t you? I can’t fail him, I won’t let him be put in that position. It’s not fair on him, I’ve done enough. I’ve hurt him enough.”

Shaking his head, Dick looked back at him, scowling. “Bruce, stop worrying about screwing up so much, you’re not in this alone. We won’t let you. If you screw this up, I’ll take him from you.”

Squeezing Dick’s shoulders one last time, Bruce let him go and stepped back.

“Then you better take him now, because I already have.”

Chapter Text

Dick spent most of the day an unsettled mess after all but fleeing Bruce’s company. Jason eventually woke up from a much needed nap, and they soon found themselves back in the living room, with Tim and Duke for company. Dick could feel the exhaustion and stress catching up with him, making him thankful that Jason’s focus was elsewhere.

“It’s a game with very deep strategy and tactics,” Tim said, gesturing to the screen. Several animated characters were stacked on top of each other on an isometric map that was divided into squares like a game board.

Dick raised his eyebrows. On the couch beside him, Duke shifted, shrugging his shoulders.

“Okay,” Duke said, skepticism dripping off the word. “But why are they all stacked on top of each other.”

“It’s just a gameplay mechanic,” Tim replied. “Think of them as game pieces.”

“Why am I have deja vu?” Dick shook his head. “Do all video games do this now? I do not remember any of this from the days of Crash Bandicoot.”

Tim and Duke both turned and stared at him for a moment, and Dick had never felt older than when two teenagers stared at him with vaguely pitying expressions.

“The higher the stack of people hats you have,” Jason said, from where he was nestled in close on Dick’s other side, “the more powerful you are.”

“That’s not strictly true,” Tim said.

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Damian said.”

“Damian lies.”

“Damian said.”

Duke snorted. “Well, seriously Tim, you got a better explanation for this one?”

“It’s wrong,” Tim muttered, but turned back to the game.

Jason made a face, but he didn’t try to attack Tim so Dick supposed the progress they’d made was holding out. He clambered over Dick’s lap and into Duke’s so he was within poking distance of Tim and reached for the controller. “I want a turn.”

“I’m teaching Duke first,” Tim said, nudging his hands away from the controller. “You’ll have to wait.”

Scowling, Jason slapped at Tim. “Duke is allowed up later than me, I should go first.”

“It’s not even five, we have plenty of time for you to practice patience.” Tim leaned away, holding the controller out of Jason’s reach. There was a slight smirk to his lips like he’d just figured out Jason was fun to tease; Damian probably wasn’t the best younger sibling for discovering that universal truth. “It’s a virtue.”

“I don’t have that one,” Jason replied.

“We can share,” Duke said, pulling Jason back from Tim. “I’ll probably need your help anyway, Jason.”

Jason chewed on his lip thoughtfully before finally nodding. “I’m good at helping.”

Tim gave a strangled laugh, turning it into a cough when Duke shoved him in the shoulder, his own lips twitching in amusement.

Dick had just decided that dozing off while his little brothers entertained each other was a fabulous idea when his phone started ringing. He patted his pocket a few times before remembering that Jason had taken it earlier to play with and it had disappeared inside the pocket of his hoodie soon after.

“Jay, phone.”

Jason glanced over at him, slipping one hand into his pocket and pulling the phone out. Instead of handing it over, his little brother tapped the screen and held the phone up to his ear. “Who is this?”

“Jay.” Dick let his head flop back against the back of the couch and let out a sigh. He should’ve taken his own nap when he had the chance, but his talk with Bruce was still circling through his thoughts on constant playback.

“No,” Jason said to whoever was on the line, “you are not allowed to speak with him. Goodbye.” Jason pulled the phone away from his ear and jabbed at the screen again before tucking it away in his pocket.

“That’s one way to screen your phone calls,” Tim said, and he and Duke started laughing.

Leaning over, Dick grabbed Jason around the middle and pulled him out of Duke’s lap and into his own, tickling his little brother mercilessly on his way to retrieving his phone. Once rescued he ignored Jason’s flailing limbs, giggles and protests and went through his phone to find out who had been turned away so abruptly.

Kory.

“Wow, Jason,” he said, sliding out from under Jason and getting to his feet. “If you’re not going to let Kory through, who would you?”

Jason scowled, rolling off the couch and following him out of the room. “I don’t know who that is.” He didn’t sound happy about it either. The more Jason was reminded that there were things he used to remember but no longer did, the more agitated he got about it. Even asking him simple questions now could provoke suspicious looks and foul moods.

“Kory’s…” Dick sighed, shrugging. “You’d like her, Jay. She likes you a lot.”

Jason followed him all the way back to his room, climbing up next to him on the bed as Dick sat down and looked through his bedside drawer. He knew there was a photo, somewhere—

“Here, that’s Kory,” he said, handing over the photo. “And that’s you. From before.”

It was hit or miss, reminding Jason of his situation. Jason didn’t like to talk about the memories he’d lost or retained. The photo Dick handed over was from the time before Jason had died, back when he’d helped out the Titans. It hadn’t happened often, but he’d grown close with Donna and Kory, who had probably taken to him as Dick’s little brother faster than Dick himself had. Maybe because both of them had siblings of their own, while Dick had been an only child, clueless about how to treat a new kid in Bruce’s life. Or maybe he’d just been an asshole about it. Or, probably, both.

“She didn’t sound like an alien,” Jason said, eying the photo dubiously.

Dick laughed. “How’s an alien sound, little wing?”

“I don’t know,” Jason replied. “She sounded nice.”

“Then why didn’t you let me answer?”

Jason handed the photo back and shrugged, looking away. He twisted the sleeves of his hoodie between his fingers. “What if she wanted to take you away?”

Dick ruffled Jason’s hair. “I wouldn’t leave you, I promise.”

“Arty left,” Jason said, sniffling and turning wide, tearful blue eyes on him. “Biz left. Even Damian is gone. Mom—” he shook his head sharply “—everyone leaves me.”

“I won’t, little wing.” Dick tugged him over, let Jason wrap shaky little arms around his neck and cling to him. “We came and found you, didn’t we? We were looking everywhere for you this morning and we found you, kiddo. We’re not going to leave you or let anything happen to you, Jason.” He could feel Jason’s racing heart against his chest, stuttering breaths near his ear, and rocked the boy from side to side until he started to calm, arms loosening marginally from around his neck. “Come on, Jay. What’s really got you all upset, huh?”

“Dick?” Jason asked, turning his head and burrowing close under his chin. “Am I real?”

Something that felt like ice shot through his veins. For the love of God, Bruce.

He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around Jason. “Of course you’re real.”

“Everyone wants me to remember,” Jason said, “and go back to how I was.”

Of course he knew, it wasn’t like they’d been subtle, asking him who and what he remembered, prodding at it despite Jason’s continued frustration. Nearly every new person got a ‘do you remember’ or some other variation and Jason had long since stopped talking about it at all.

“You exist right now,” Dick said. “You’re you, you’re just packaged a little differently at the moment and it’s jumbled your head up a bit. I know it’s scary, Jay. I know it’s frustrating having everyone questioning you all the time. I’m sorry if it’s made you feel like we want to get rid of you. We love you, Jay—all of you. Whether you remember us or not.”  

“I used to remember,” Jason whispered, like a confession. “I remembered how it was before.”

“I know, but I think it’s better now you don’t,” Dick said, and kept rocking him slowly. “It doesn’t change who you are, Jason, whether you remember or not. You’re going to be fine.”

Jason shifted in his arms, pulling back and locking gazes with him like he did when he had something important to say. His bottom lip was between his teeth again, getting chewed on as Jason thought. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course, Jay.”

For a moment, Jason just stared at him, frowning, like he was searching Dick’s face to make sure he could trust him with his secret.

“Everything hurt, all of the time,” Jason finally said, dully. “I don’t want to remember it. I don’t want to go back to that.”

Dick was immediately sure that he was not qualified to be having this conversation.

There was a pain in his chest like his heart had physically shattered into pieces. “Shit, little wing.” It was not what he’d expected at all. He licked his lips and tried to think of anything to say that wasn’t a useless platitude. “Jason, I promise. No one is going to do anything without your permission, okay?”

“Bruce will,” Jason said, sniffing. “He won’t care what I want!”

“I do and I won’t let him.” He’d made something of a career out of fighting with Bruce. Maybe it had all been leading to this.

Exhausted from a second emotional upheaval of the day, Jason dissolved into quiet sobs that quickly calmed as he dozed off on Dick’s shoulder. Dick continued to rock him slowly while his mind raced with the new wrench that had been thrown into the works. Did he even want to bring it up with Bruce? What could he even hope to get in response?

Jason was a child, Jason wasn’t real, Jason wasn’t objective…let him count the ways Bruce could argue against it.

Jason didn’t want to go back to normal.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but all Dick could think of now were those moments when Jason had been unguarded since his return, the offhand, nearly casual comments that made his heart clench up because his little brother hadn’t been happy, didn’t seem to know how to be, anymore. Jason hadn’t made a single attempt to establish a life outside of his mission. There was the trauma and the conflict with the family but it was deeper than that, wasn’t it?

Jason hadn’t made any attempts to build a life, because Jason hadn’t been particularly happy to even be alive.

“What a fucking mess, Grayson.”

***

Aunt Agatha had a standing invitation to join Alfred in the kitchen during the evenings. Sometimes, it involved her actually cooking, like she had on at least one Thanksgiving that Dick could remember. Other times, it involved a bottle of brandy and gossip about the goings on in Gotham’s high society. Alfred was, somehow, both knowledgeable and interested in it, and Dick had spent a fair few evenings when he was a kid sitting next to Aunt Agatha at the kitchen counter and listening to frankly surreal and unbelievable stories about Gotham’s wealthy elite and being hard-pressed to buy into a single one of them.

He knew better now.

It was a bit nostalgic, sitting at the same counter next to Aunt Agatha, while she sipped at her drink and gossiped with Alfred about all the things she’d missed in Gotham and all the people she’d caught up with during the weekend, interspersed with new stories about her life down in D.C.

The most startling difference was the seven year old that darted around Alfred’s feet and insisted on helping. Jason hadn’t napped for long the second time around, but had been quiet most of the afternoon, trailing in Dick’s wake and uninterested in anything Dick tried to present to him as a distraction; his books, Lego and video games were all summarily dismissed as Jason alternated between lethargic and tearful. Five minutes in the kitchen with Alfred had changed all that, and Jason had bounced back, his mood lightening with heartening resilience.

“Alfie,” Jason said, tugging on Alfred’s sleeve. “Trust me. I am very good with knives.”

“I don’t doubt that for a moment, Master Jason.” Alfred nudged the boy gently out of his way, opening one of the higher cupboards and pulling out ingredients; flour, baking soda, a bar of dark chocolate. “Nevertheless, I would prefer if you instead assist by helping with dessert. I think you’ll find it to be much more entertaining.”

“I don’t know,” Jason said, tilting his head as he thought. “I’m really, really good with knives.”

Aunt Agatha laughed, clear as a bell. “You are very charming, aren’t you, Jason?”

“Yes,” Jason replied. “I’m very good at that too. But I’m better with knives.”

“Jay,” Dick said, because he could get away with a lot being that small, but eventually Aunt Agatha might notice and get concerned about a preoccupation with deadly weaponry. “Come on, eating cake batter is much better than knives.”

That got Jason’s attention.

“Do we have to cook the cake?” Jason asked Alfred, eying the ingredients he was laying out on the bench closest to Aunt Agatha and Dick, much more intrigued than he’d been a second ago. “I think they taste better not cooked.”

“Eating cake batter is not good for you, young sirs,” Alfred said, giving the both of them a disapproving eye.

“That’s not true,” Jason said, climbing up onto the stool Alfred dragged over to the bench and reaching for the flour. “If it was bad my taste buds would say so. I trust them.”

“Oh, if only that were true.” Aunt Agatha gave a wistful sigh, before turning to eye Dick. “It’s nice you finally have a moment to keep me company. Despite the assurances that you and your father are on better terms these days, he’s been surprisingly cagey when I ask about you. You’re not still living in New York, are you?”

“I, uh, bounce between a few places these days.” Saying he lived a significant amount of his adult life in Bludhaven was asking for Aunt Agatha to storm off after Bruce and start an argument about all the ways that Dick’s bad choices were his fault. There was nothing quite like Aunt Agatha to really make you feel like a kid still. “I usually stay at the Penthouse when I’m in Gotham.”

“And now?” Aunt Agatha asked, nodding at where Jason was chattering away at Alfred and stirring a bowl of cake batter vigorously.

“I haven’t decided.” The likelihood of Bruce permitting anyone to take Jason away from the manor was a big fat zero, but Aunt Agatha didn’t know that. “There’s also his mother to consider.”

Because God knew that confrontation was coming whenever Artemis returned to Gotham. Bruce may have let her leave fairly easily, but not even Diana’s intervention could make him accept her back. It felt like Dick was just adding to an endless list of reasons to fight with Bruce, like it would make up for the years they’d existed in relative peace while Dick lived mostly in Bludhaven and only showed up occasionally—and half the time he showed up he probably still shouted at him about something.

“Well, he really couldn’t do better than Gotham Academy for his schooling,” Aunt Agatha was saying, with a fond look over at Jason. “He does seem like such a bright little boy. And we know plenty of families with children around the same age that attend—the Hadley’s have one about his age, don’t they, Alfred? I can’t recall.”

Alfred glanced over. “The twins, I believe, are eight.”

Aunt Agatha snapped her fingers. “That’s right, darling things.”  

“My friend Roy has a daughter around the same age,” Dick said. “They’re up in New York at the moment.”

“Roy? That wouldn’t be Oliver Queen’s boy, would it?” Aunt Agatha asked, narrowing her eyes.  “I remember you were in the same circles as him, as a boy.”

“You really do know everyone, Aunt Agatha.”

Aunt Agatha snorted, shaking her head. “Well, I hope your friend doesn’t take after Oliver. A greater waste of braincells I’ve not met.”

Dick muffled his laugh against his hand. “No, Roy and Oliver don’t really get along.”

Lian had bridged some of that gap, but there were things that couldn’t be fixed.

“Master Richard, if you would be so kind?” Alfred held Jason back with one hand as the boy reached out and made a grabbing motion at the bowl of cake batter that Alfred was attempting to put in the oven.

Dick got up and rounded the counter, sweeping Jason up and away from his prize. “Jay, come on, don’t pick on poor Alfred.”

Jason pouted, but let himself be carried away, back to Dick’s seat. He settled happily enough in Dick’s lap, shuffling around so he could face Aunt Agatha.

“And how are you doing, sweetie?” Aunt Agatha asked, smiling softly at him. “It’s been a hard few days for you, hasn’t it?”

Aunt Agatha had mostly seen him in tears, as Jason had spent most of his time since Artemis left ricocheting between moods like a pinball. Dragging Damian into mischief one moment and then sobbing about Artemis or Bizarro the next.

Jason rubbed his sleeve across his nose and sniffed, nodding slowly. “I miss Mommy.”

Aunt Agatha cooed, reaching out to tap Jason on the nose. “Poor mite. I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she’s able.”

“She sure will,” Dick said softly, brushing Jason’s hair out of his eyes and tightening his hold.

He honestly couldn’t tell if Jason’s words had been to maintain their cover or were a slip of the tongue. He got the feeling he’d be wondering that a lot more often, soon.

***

After dinner and before his bedtime, there was an hour set aside for Jason to read, usually with Cass. If Cass was busy, he would normally accept a substitute. But that night, looking down at the grumpy little boy clad in soft flannel pajamas and a scowl, Dick suspected a change in routine was not going to be an easy sell.

“Where is Cass?” Jason asked, voice dour with frustration.

“She’s busy tonight, Jay.” Black Bat was on patrol early, joining up with Batwoman to round up the last of the Joker’s gang and make sure his last plan didn’t come to fruition.

Jason stared between Steph and the book in her hands, mouth turned down at the corners. “Cass is supposed to read with me. She’s my sister.”

Steph crouched down in front of him and pouted. “But I thought I was your Steph?”

“You are my Steph,” Jason said, reaching out and patting her on the head. “But Cass reads with me.”

“Well,” Steph said, tapping a finger to her lips. “We could color instead?”

“I’m not a baby,” Jason said, but waited dutifully next to Dick as Steph went and pulled out one of her coloring books. When she returned and opened it to show him the tiger she was working on. Jason chewed on his fingers for a moment as he thought, but eventually nodded, slowly. “Okay. We can color.”

“Crisis averted,” Steph said to Dick, nudging him with her hip and leading Jason over to the bed, coloring books in hand. “You’re relieved of duty.”

The next crisis was waiting for him in the Cave, in the form of Harley Quinn’s mugshot taking up the entire screen of the Batcomputer. Red Robin stood at the bottom of the staircase, hands on his hips.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is?” Dick asked, turning towards the cases where the uniforms were stored.

“Harley is expressing her mixed feelings over the Joker’s demise,” Red Robin replied. “So, yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. It’s not our problem though, Batwoman and Black Bat are already on it and from the news reports it honestly looks like Harley’s heart isn’t in it.”

“I would say I feel bad for her, but I really don’t.” Dick stripped out of his normal clothes and into his suit, listening with half and ear as Red Robin relayed the information on the case they’d be pursuing that night. “This is the one that the GCPD thought might have been connected to the Joker, right?”

Red Robin nodded. “Yeah, someone’s been going around and offing some pretty prominent members of Gotham’s underworld. It took a while before the GCPD noticed they were connected—they looked like natural deaths at first glance.”

“Poison?”

“Nothing obvious,” Red Robin replied. “But there are drugs that can do that, and it’s the most likely culprit. I’ve been looking into anything common the victims might have shared in common—a doctor, residence, anything—but I haven’t found anything yet.”

Uniform on, Nightwing picked up his escrima sticks and twirled them in his hands. “Right, then. Where do we start?”

It took all of thirty minutes, leaping from rooftop to rooftop through Gotham’s East End, before Red Robin paused and put a hand on Nightwing’s shoulder.

“I can handle this alone if you wanted to take the night off.”

Rolling his shoulders, Nightwing sighed and let his head fall back, staring up at the sky. No stars could be seen beyond the dark cloud cover. The night was humid, with no wind to speak of. He wouldn’t even need Jason as an excuse to not want to be out there, but even so— “I’m fine, Red. In case you haven’t noticed over the years, I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing.”

Red Robin’s lips twitched. “Too good, some might say.”

“Well, I learned from the best, after all.” He liked to think he wasn’t quite as obtuse as Bruce could be about it, but there were times that it seemed to be wishful thinking. “You don’t have to worry, Red. I’ve got my head in the game.” He could tell by the way that Red Robin’s eyebrows moved that his younger brother was rolling his eyes at him under the mask. “What?”

“I wasn’t worried about your performance, Wing. I just figured there was no point in you being out here and miserable about it when this job doesn’t really need the two of us.” Red Robin shrugged, looking off over the city. “I’m good enough to run solo—have been for a long while—and the Joker’s gone, not running around loose. Batman could maybe ease off the precautions at this point. Hell, Robin flew off to the Titans solo.”

Not something Nightwing approved of, but what could he say at this point that wouldn’t get both Batman and Robin mad at him? He was already fighting with Bruce enough about Jason without dredging up all the leftover issues with the way the man was raising Damian. Still, Red Robin had a point about the patrols. It probably hadn’t occurred to Batman that he needed to lift the emergency rules now that the Joker’s case had been so…abruptly solved.

“I’ll talk to him,” Nightwing said, “he’s been distracted.”

“You both have.”

“There’s been a lot going on.” There had been a lot going on even before Jason’s accident. The last few years had been one crisis after another, an infinite string of disastrous and traumatic events, and it was a wonder that any one of them was coping well under the strain. Sometimes it felt like instead of making things better, the presence of vigilantes and superheroes had only made the world worse.

Nightwing shook his head, sighing and giving Red Robin a considering look. It had been a while since they’d spent time together without little brothers underfoot. “What about you, huh? I notice you’ve been conspicuously absent from any room containing a certain visiting relative like you’re allergic.”

Red Robin coughed, and Nightwing swore he was blushing under the mask. “I really would prefer if the topic of school never came up again. My life flashes before my eyes every time it does.”

“She’s just an old woman, Red,” Nightwing said, trying not to laugh. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the feeling. “It’s not quite as dire as you’re making out. She hasn’t even brought it up since.” Much, anyway. Only with Jason really, who at least wanted to go to school.

“Yeah, well, it’s not really about her, okay?” Red Robin shrugged his shoulders, looking off over the city. “My dad…he’d have hated me dropping out. My mother too. Especially my mother. They ran in the same kind of crowds, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” There wasn’t much he could say to that. Nightwing could admit he had little idea what his parents would think about his current occupation, but school? He’d been put in the family business before he could even consider anything else. Maybe he would’ve grown up and wanted school instead, but whether they’d be disappointed about that? He’d not been old enough for any of those kinds of conflicts to come up.

That had all been Bruce, who’d always had strong opinions on the life that Dick should lead and had utterly hated him dropping out of college, despite the fact that Bruce’s own early adulthood hadn’t exactly been spent in a traditional educational institution.

There was a slight crackle over his comm and then Oracle’s voice in his ear: “Head’s up, boys. Harley’s given Batwoman and Black Bat the slip.”

Red Robin hung his head. “Just what we need.”

“How’d she manage that?” Nightwing asked.

“She had help. I just got word; Poison Ivy has escaped from Arkham.” He had enough experience with Oracle’s voice modulator to recognize Barbara’s dry tone under it.

“Y’know,” Red Robin said, “they should really consider replacing the revolving door in that place with, I don’t know, one that locks?”

“Might be helpful.” Nightwing chuckled. “Oracle, Red Robin and I are going to drop our case and help out—seems like this is priority one.”

Oracle’s normal acknowledgment was absent. Nightwing exchanged a glance with Red Robin and waited where he was. Oracle was practically military in procedures—she wouldn’t just drop out without a word.

The comm crackled to life.

“Nightwing, get back to the Cave.”

His stomach turned to ice. “What happened?” He started running, back towards the street he’d left his bike. He could hear Red Robin’s footsteps somewhere behind him and didn’t have it in him to tell his brother to go help out Batwoman and Black Bat instead.

“Sounds like he ran off again,” Oracle said, “but Steph wasn’t making a lot of sense.”

Red Robin sighed. “Can we limit him to one major episode a day?”

“He didn’t run.” After the next block Nightwing dropped down onto the fire escape on the side of the building and made it down to street level and the Nightcycle he’d hidden away. He didn’t wait for Red Robin before gunning the engine and pulling out onto the street.

They had been working in the East End, which made the return journey out of Gotham City and into Bristol County a quick and easy venture. Nightwing broke the speed limit on the way back but otherwise had no memory of the trip, his mind turning over in worry, Oracle’s voice occasionally breaking through over the comm to update everyone on Harley and Ivy.

No one was in the Cave when he returned and it took him twice as long as usual to get out of his Nightwing uniform and into sweats because he was rushing so much. The stairs up to the manor he took three at a time and nearly tripped. Somehow by the time he was through the darkened halls of the manor and up to Jason’s bedroom he was breathing heavily, as if he’d run a marathon and not a few staircases.

It was probably the panic, he thought dully. Steph and Duke were in the room—Steph was in pajamas, she’d been spending the night in the manor—while Duke was in sweats like Dick. He must have come in from patrol as well.

Steph’s eyes were red and puffy, she’d been crying. When she caught sight of Dick in the doorway she clutched her arms tighter around her middle and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how it happened—he was fast asleep, I tucked him in myself!”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault.” He didn’t have much attention to spare but he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. His eyes drifted to Jason’s bed. The covers were still tucked in. “Is his bag still here?”

Steph nodded, sniffing and clearing her throat. “I thought that maybe he just went to get a drink or something. I was just checking in because the lamp was on—I was sure I’d turned it off when I left.”

Dick glanced over at the bedside lamp. Someone had moved it, it was closer to the wall than it had been earlier that day.

Duke jerked his head towards it. “Bruce already went over it for fingerprints. He, uh, doesn’t think Jason ran off.”

“Neither do I,” Dick replied, and he could hear his voice shaking like his hands were starting to, from the fury that was bubbling up in his chest.

Someone had taken Jason. It sounded like an irrational conclusion even in his own head, this soon, but he just knew .

“You guys sound pretty sure about that,” Tim said, and Dick looked over to see him in the doorway, dressed haphazardly in a large t-shirt and loose jeans. “I don’t mean to sound skeptical, but we are talking about the kid who literally ran away just this morning.”

“He was upset then,” Steph said. Her arms tightened briefly around Dick’s back before she let go and moved away, wiping at her eyes. “He also left a trail, took his bag and made sure we all knew what had happened. Now he’s just gone.”

“Not to mention the dog,” Duke said, nodding to the caged off area beside the chair near the window, where Jason’s dog was peacefully sleeping in the fluffy round dog bed. “That thing normally sleeps light as a feather. I think she’s been drugged. I was trying to wake her before and got nowhere.”

Tim frowned and walked over to the pen, leaning over and nudging Nessie in the side. She didn’t stir. “Jesus. I’ll take her down to the Cave and draw some blood. How the hell did someone breach the manor?”

“Good question.”

Dick glanced over to the doorway. Bruce was leaning heavily against the frame, shoulders weighed down.

“Bruce, tell me you have him tagged.”

“I had Alfred put trackers in every item of clothing he owns after this morning,” Bruce replied, and thankfully didn’t mention that he’d wanted to tag Jason nearly as soon as he’d been regressed but Dick had convinced him not to, calling it unnecessary and an invasion of privacy that Jason would be apoplectic about. Funny, how the tables turned so quickly.

“Under normal circumstances I would call that overkill,” Duke said, “but that was before someone abducted our seven year old right from under our damn noses.”

“And the reason you’re up here and not already on the trail is..?” Steph asked, voice still wavering slightly.

“They’re all offline,” Bruce replied, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “I pulled the records of his location and they went haywire several seconds before going off completely.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. “How haywire are we talking?”

“He was here, he was over the Atlantic ocean, he was in the Mediterranean sea…then he was gone.”

“We’re looking at magic, aren’t we?” Dick asked, grim. “The one damn thing Zatanna said we had to keep him away from at all costs.”

Bruce nodded. “Yes, I think it’s likely.”

He closed his eyes, running his hand over his face. They were in a race against time, then. Both to find Jason, and then to get to him before what Zatanna feared about his exposure to magic came to pass.

Chapter Text

Cass found it hard to concentrate on the task at hand.

Her little brother was gone.

Cass tightened her arms around Harley, holding her still while Batwoman interrogated her. In her ear, Cass could hear Oracle continue to relay information back and forth between those out patrolling—the Birds of Prey, her and Batwoman, Batwing—along with the funny click in her ear that meant Oracle was speaking privately, updating her on what was happening back home.

Jason was gone.

Holding Harley steady was the last thing Cass wanted to be doing, but this was her job. It was better that she be out here than the others. They were better at seeing some things, and she was better at seeing others.

Cass wasn’t as good as them at reading an empty room. She preferred people.

“A little boy went missing tonight, Quinn,” Batwoman said, and Cass jerked her head up a little, eyebrows raised. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harley jerked against Cass’ hold, growling when it got her nowhere. “Why would I want to hurt a kid?”

“You have before,” Batwoman replied.

For a moment Harley was frozen in her grasp and then Cass watched as all the fight drained out of her.

“Not anymore,” Harley said, and her body was an open book and full of truth.

Cass nodded at Batwoman, who stepped back, ending the interrogation. She waited until after the GCPD had taken Harley away, back to Arkham, before she turned to Batwoman curiously. “Why ask? We know they weren’t there.”

“They might have been hired as a distraction,” Batwoman replied, shrugging. Her face was harsh beneath her mask. Cass could see her tremble faintly. She stepped closer. Batwoman took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Just…memories.”

They all had bad memories, Cass knew. Even little Jason.

He didn’t need more.

***

The Clocktower was a stop off Cass made nearly every patrol, checking in on Babs and sometimes sleeping over. Oracle’s computers made soft whirring sounds as they worked. Cass was used to the sound of them now, she could even fall asleep leaning up against them. They were warm and comforting and reminded her of Babs. Tonight they were more active than usual; Babs was working away on several things at once, almost frantic. She glanced over when Cass approached with a smile, took the coffee that Cass offered. Worry clung to her, pulled her face tight and made her limbs move in jerky little motions, not smooth and perfect like Babs normally was.

“Jason?” Cass asked, and her chest was tight when Babs shook her head.

“I sent my analysis of the GPS data over to the Cave, I think Tim and Duke are working on it now.” Babs took a sip of the coffee, letting her eyes drift back to the computers. “I’ve put some feelers out to try and figure out who might have taken him—we don’t even have a motive at this point, it’s frustrating. I’m also keeping an eye on S.T.A.R labs and their progress on our other current problem.” Babs smiled up at her, tight and thin. “But I can handle it here—you should be at the manor.”

Cass bit her lip, frustrated. “I don’t know how to help. There’s no one to hurt yet.”

Babs laughed. “Being there is enough. Trust me, Cass, when the time comes, Bruce isn’t going to leave anything behind for you to hurt. This is probably the worst kind of deja vu for him.”

“I worry for Dick,” Cass said, moving to stand behind Bab’s chair and massage the tension out of her shoulders. She was very good at it. It was using her skill to help people instead of hurt. Babs had shown her that.

“He’s gotten very attached,” Babs said softly.

Cass moved her hands from Babs’ shoulders to her hair, separating the long red strands and starting to braid them. It was soothing, and it made Babs relax more. She let her fingers work, thinking carefully, before she spoke again. “I think Jason will be my nephew now.”

Babs sighed, drooping slightly. “The media frenzy wasn’t as pacified as I’d hoped. We really need to figure this spell out, once we get him back. We’ve put Dick in a very awkward position in the meantime.”

“He doesn’t mind,” Cass said. Dick loved them all, they were family, and when he looked at Jason he saw Jason, all of him that had been and now was, and all the little pieces that had been jumbled together and didn’t fit quite right, even the bits that had been there but were gone now. He saw it like Cass did, even without having her skill. “He loves Jason.”

Babs nodded. “He’s a very good big brother. He’s come a long way; the temper alone, those were explosive times.”

“The temper he still has,” Cass replied. “It’s okay. It’s for Bruce, he needs it.”

Once Cass was done with the braid she stepped back, watching Babs run her hand over it with a pleased smile.

Babs nodded to the window. “Go on, then. You’re needed at the manor. I’ll call when I have something.”

Cass grinned.

When, not if.

Babs was the best.

***

When Cass arrived back in the Cave it was Duke she found in front of the computer. Tim was near the lab area, pacing back and forth and talking quietly on the phone. He gave her a distracted wave. She walked up behind Duke and flopped over the back of the computer chair, leaning forward to watch his fingers fly over the keys. There was a lot of information pulled up on screen; some of it she recognized from the Clocktower, the things that Babs had been working on. Duke’s shoulders were tense, and his foot was tapping against the floor, a metallic, agitated beat.

“Nothing yet,” Duke said, tilting his head back to meet her eyes. “Between us and Oracle though, we should definitely have something soon.”

Cass gave him a thumbs up. He grinned back at her, not as bright as he normally did, but real enough. She nodded over at Tim. “Damian?”

“I offered to do it,” Duke said, shrugging. “But Tim said he would handle it. Personally, I think he just wants to fight with someone, and Damian always obliges.”

“Damian will be worried.”

Duke snorted. “Yeah, but good luck getting him to recognize it. He’ll take Tim up on the fight. I’ll bet you.”

Tim was still on the phone. The speed of his pacing had increased and his shoulders were hunched over.

Cass shook her head. “No bet.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

It was only a few minutes later that Tim growled, storming over to the computer and slamming his phone down on the desk. Duke raised an eyebrow, shook his head and kept working. Cass pat Tim on the shoulder.

“Damian is coming back?”

“He’s on his way.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a frustrated growl. “How can one kid be so aggravating? I actually miss being attacked by Jason and his Lego weapons.”

“You provoke Damian,” Cass said.

“He started it,” Tim replied, and then winced. “Yes, okay, I know how that sounds.”

“Acknowledging you have a problem is the first step,” Duke said, standing up from the computer and stretching his arms over his head. “Wanna take over here? I’m going to go upstairs and update the big guy.”

Tim nodded, sliding into the chair and cracking his knuckles. Cass listened to Duke’s footsteps as he left and stayed where she was, letting her hand drift down to Tim’s hair and ruffling it. He made an aggrieved sound.

“Cass, come on.”

She hummed. “I miss the spiky hair.”

He snorted. “No one misses the spiky hair, Cass. If Steph didn’t have like ten million photos stored on a secret hard drive somewhere I’d have burned them all by now. I can’t believe no one said anything while I was walking around like that. You’re supposed to be my friends.”

“You make terrible choices and we judge you,” Cass replied, parroting something Steph had told her once. She poked Tim on the cheek. “I didn’t know it was bad back then.”

“At least I wasn’t Dick,” Tim said.

“Sometimes,” Cass told him, “you were worse.”

“He had a mullet.” Tim’s fingers across the keyboard were even faster than Duke’s had been. The extra keys that were on the Batcomputer sometimes still tripped Duke up, but Tim knew them well and didn’t make mistakes. “Need I also mention the weird rat-tail thing or Nightwing costumes one and two?”

Cass giggled. “His face distracted from it.”

“Oh, now you’re just being mean,” Tim replied, shaking his head. The computer beeped and he busied himself with it for a moment, before sighing and looking back at her. “Thanks, Cass. I think they could probably use you upstairs.”

“Feel better?”

Tim nodded, smiling at her. “Much. Don’t worry, we’ll get him back. Go on up—I can think of a few people who need you more than I do right now.”

***

Cass found Alfred in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. It was still much too early, and the movement of his limbs was all wrong—sharp instead of smooth, pauses that shouldn’t be there, a tension that was familiar but only on the worst of nights—and so she came up beside him and took the small mixing bowl out of his hands and set it aside. He raised an eyebrow at her and waited for her to speak. Alfred was good at patience. More than maybe all of the rest of them, who could wait on a rooftop for hours, maybe, but not happily, and not naturally. Swinging through the rooftops made her insides sing. Being still was learned and practiced and she was good, but Cass preferred to move.

Perhaps if they had Alfred’s patience they wouldn’t do what they did.

“I want to make a cake,” Cass said, linking her hands behind her back and swaying on the balls of her feet. “For Jason, when he comes back. I owe him a cake. A chocolate one.”

Alfred’s expression softened, just slightly. “I remember. Your Aunt Agatha’s visit did somewhat derail the plans.”

Cass nodded. They would find Jason, and then they would go get him, beat up whoever stole him from them, and bring him home—where they would have cake. It was a great plan. “I want to make the cake now. We’re going to find him soon. It has to be ready.”

“Be that as it may,” Alfred said, with a soft smile, “young Master Jason did make his own cake yesterday. Perhaps we should prepare a different treat? One with less sugar maybe?”

Cass shook her head. “No, it has to be a cake. We owe him—he wanted two.”

Alfred sighed. “Of course. Well, another flavor, then?”

In the end, Cass vetoed the suggestion of carrot cake and they settled on a Madeira, a lighter cake than the rich chocolate that was already waiting in the fridge.

“We will have to ice it,” she said to Alfred, once the cake was in the oven. “Decorate it in sweet things.” She crouched down in front of the oven, wrapping her arms around her bent knees and staring at the cake in the oven. “I don’t like magic, Alfred.”

“A trait you share with your father,” Alfred replied, from where he was standing at the sink and rinsing out the bowl they’d mixed the cake in. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to learn you take after him in that respect.”

Cass didn’t think anyone hated magic more than Bruce. Not now. “I want them to find him soon.”

“So do I,” Alfred said quietly. “And I’m very sure that Master Bruce will move mountains to bring him home.”

“I don’t care about mountains.” Cass sighed, curling tighter around her knees. “I want something to hit.”

“A less admirable trait that you also share with your father.” Alfred shook his head. “Out with you, young lady. I have a lot to get done this morning before the rest of the household awakens—”

“—we’re already awake—”

“—and by household I do of course mean Madam Wayne.” Alfred raised an eyebrow. “As ever, it will fall on me to make sure that she remain oblivious to the current situation.”

“I believe in you.” Cass gave Alfred a thumbs up and jumped to her feet, twirling around in place before dashing from the room.

From behind her, she heard a soft, quiet chuckle.

***

Jason’s bedroom was nearly unrecognizable from what it had been only a little over two weeks ago. It had always been kept pristine, as Alfred cleaned it just as regularly as the rest of the household’s rooms despite it going unused, but it had never seemed alive to Cass. It had been a still room, like a painting, a snapshot of frozen time. Jason, when he bothered to go near it, had been uncomfortable, quiet and still as if the room was latching on and sapping the life back out of him. It had been better after the memorial case had been removed, but Jason was not at the manor enough to bring life back to the room.

The little Jason was different. His handprints were all over the room; from the bookshelf, newly organized and overflowing with books, to the Lego pieces that were scattered on nearly every available surface. Nessie had her own section of the room with her bed and toys, near the window. The bed had new sheets, vibrant and colorful, and on top was piled with a growing collection of soft toys that Cass maybe envied.

Steph was on the bed, leaning against the headboard, Jason’s favorite toy hugged to her chest. Her eyes were red and puffy and her lip trembled. When she looked up at Cass, her eyes teared up. “He’s going to be so scared without Sparky.”

“He is brave,” Cass said, climbing up onto the bed next to Steph and leaning against her, wrapping her arms around Steph’s shoulders and squeezing. “We will find him, and then I beat up whoever took him and bring him back. Then we’ll have cake.”

Steph nodded, playing with Sparky’s floppy ears and letting her head fall onto Cass’ shoulder. “I know it’s not really my fault, but…I was just down the hall, Cass. Someone took him and I was just a few doors down. God.”

“It was magic,” Cass said, scowling at her feet. “You noticed fast, Steph.”

“Yeah, we’ll see if Bruce feels the same.” Steph poked the toy dog on the nose. “Just our luck that this happens right after Artemis and Bizarro are gone. A few days sooner and Artemis would’ve crushed whoever did this.”

Something cold clenched around the inside of Cass’ chest. She pursed her lips together and hugged Steph tighter against her. “Coincidence?”

Steph snorted. “You’re right. Probably not.”

“They waited until you were gone,” Cass said. “Not your fault. Bruce knows.”

Swiping a hand over her eyes, Steph nodded. Her breathing was heavy and ragged, Cass could feel her shoulders start shaking again. “I can’t stop thinking about it, Cass. What could be happening to him. What if someone like Black Mask has him?”

“No,” Cass said, feeling her eyes start to sting. “We will get him back. He will be safe.”

“He still had nightmares before this. It isn’t fair.”

Jason wasn’t the only one who still had nightmares, Cass knew. “When we go to get him, I will save some butt-kicking for you.”

Steph laughed, voice strained and unhappy. “There’s gonna be a line. I think Dick was trying to get in contact with Artemis.”

“She can be at the back of the line,” Cass replied, frowning. “She had her turn.”

“I suppose that’s one way to describe it.” Steph sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “Okay, so Artemis is at the back of the line, you get first dibs and I’ll clean up. The boys can hold back Dick, ‘cause I get the feeling if he gets his hands on whoever did this they’ll be in more pieces than the Joker.”

Cass nodded. “We’re very good at plans.”

“The best.” Steph finally looked at her and smiled, a tiny quirk of her lips. “Thanks, Cass.”

She smiled back.

***

Cass found Damian down in the Cave, sitting next to the crate they had put Nessie in once they had determined that no lasting damage had been done to her. He was talking quietly on his cell phone to someone, low enough that Cass could not hear, his face turned towards the dog. Damian’s fingers were between the thin metal bars of the crate, stroking Nessie behind the ears. Cass waited until he hung up the phone before approaching. He glanced up when Cass crouched down next to him, the tiniest of furrows appearing between his brows before he looked away, back to Nessie. His eyes were very far away and he was hunched and tense; defensive.

“You got back fast.”

“It was an emergency,” he replied. “I have my means.”

“A speedster is a person, not a means.”

He snorted. “Did you want something, or are you just here to argue semantics with me?”

“I am checking in,” Cass said, folding her legs under her and shuffling back so she was between Damian and the bench that ran along one wall of the medbay. They had stashed Nessie’s crate under the bench so it was out of the way. “It’s my job.”

“Since when?” Damian didn’t look back at her. His voice was softer and less harsh than usual.

“I am second oldest,” Cass said. She was, even back when Jason had been big, despite what he had thought. The Earth was round, Gotham was Batman’s, and Cass was the big sister. With Dick preoccupied it was her job to step up and make sure they were all okay.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Damian muttered, scowling. “As if age can truly be measured by mere time on Earth.”

“You are just saying that because you have the least years.” She tweaked him on the nose. The glance he gave her was annoyed but less than it usually would be. “The baby brother.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “The one good thing that might come from this whole mess is that I would no longer be the youngest.”

“Jason is a baby,” Cass said, thoughtful, “but he is going to be a nephew. You are still the youngest brother.”

“That’s cheating.” Damian huffed, turning around to face her fully. “And he would still be the youngest in the family, no matter the degree of relation invented by a cover story written by Vicki Vale.”

“Written by Babs,” Cass said, grinning. “Ghostwrote.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Sometimes.” Cass knocked her shoulder against his. “Don’t worry, little brother. We will get Jason back.”

“Will we?” Damian asked quietly, and Cass could tell from his tone that he was not speaking of the kidnapping—not only. The greater threat was still a shadow over them all. Jason might die at any time and there was a greater risk now that he was exposed to magic, the thing that Zatanna had explicitly warned them away from. “I have heard all the arguments. Father and Richard are at each other’s throats over it. Something must be done before their relationship is broken beyond repair.”

“You see it less,” Cass said. “Dick is better at hiding it, now. But this is not…new. It’s okay. They will fight, but they trust each other most. They will be fine.”

“I know what happened back then.” Damian scowled, crossing his arms and hunching over. “I might not have been there but I heard the stories. The last time Father and Richard fought this badly they didn’t speak again for years.”

“They have changed. Grown.”

“Maybe.” Damian shrugged, climbing to his feet and dusting his pants off. He took one look back at Nessie. “I’m going to take Titus for a walk on the grounds. Father has called Zatara?”

Cass nodded. “She will be here soon.”

Damian’s lips thinned and he turned away. “Not soon enough.”

When the sound of his footsteps had faded, Cass leaned back and stuck her fingers through the bars of the crate and smiled softly as Nessie licked them with her warm, rough tongue.

“I know you are worried too,” she said to the dog. “But we will get Jason back.”

***

Everyone else was busy when Zatanna arrived, so Cass met her at the door and led her up to Jason’s bedroom. Bruce and Dick were already inside, speaking in low voices. They held themselves tight with tension, but the conflict between them that Cass had spotted so often recently was absent. Dick stepped back as Zatanna entered the room and let Cass take his spot at Bruce’s side.

Zatanna looked around, doing whatever it was was that magic people did. Cass remained close by Bruce’s side, arms brushing against each other as they waited. Bruce held himself tall and straight. When he moved it was stiff and carefully controlled, like he was making a large effort, like one wrong move might shatter him or send him crumpling to the ground. Cass shifted even closer, linking their hands together and squeezing. After a moment he squeezed back, keeping her hand closed in his own.

“It will be okay.” She smiled at him. “We’ll get him back.”

Bruce looked down at her, nodding. His composure was a thin layer on the surface of his skin, fragile and translucent. Cass could see the turmoil beneath it, wild rapids of emotions that were only tenuously controlled. As she watched, Bruce visibly pushed it all down, hiding it beneath more layers. He licked his lips. “Thank you, Cass.”

She nodded, let him drop her hand and pull her against his side, holding her close for a brief moment. “Thank you, too.”

He didn’t smile but she knew it was beyond him with Jason missing. Many things were beyond him when Jason was in trouble, but kidnapping was familiar in a very bad way, Cass knew that. She had never read the files. She had no need for the details when every inch of it was written as clear as a sunny morning in every movement of Bruce’s body, in every failed word and stuttered action. What she hadn’t read from Bruce over the years was practically shouted from every inch of Jason, her little brother bright and red and screaming with pain. It wasn’t just the little Jason that was too small for his emotions.

“The room is saturated,” Zatanna said, turning over Jason’s bedside lamp in her hands.

Bruce let his arm drop from around Cass’ shoulders. “Can you pick up anything more specific?”

“Mostly? Power.” Zatanna’s lips were pursed tightly. She placed the lamp back down. “This is no amateur, no minor dabbler using some cheap tricks to pull off a kidnapping and ransom. Whoever did this—they’re one of the most powerful sorcerers I’ve enter encountered.”

“What could they want with Jason?” Bruce frowned. “Is there something about the spell on him that could interest someone like that?”

“Other than it making him vulnerable?” Zatanna shook her head. “Like I told you last time, the spell was a convoluted mess but nothing about it should attract the kind of power I sense in this room. Not for the spell, anyway.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched. “What does that mean?”

“It’s possible that Jason surviving the spell wasn’t a fluke,” Zatanna replied. “I couldn’t get anything off him with that mess of magic in the way, but from what I understand it was no Lazarus Pit that brought him back to life. It’s possible that there’s something…interesting, under all of that. I can’t imagine what, though.”

A creaking sound came from the doorway. Cass glanced back to see Dick pushing away from against the frame, frowning.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Bruce asked.

Zatanna closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and tilting her face up towards the ceiling. After several moments of silence she opened her eyes and shook her head, shrugging.

“Red.”

In the doorway, Cass spotted Dick clenching his fists, before he turned and walked away.

***

They were discouraged from climbing the manor—Cass didn’t really know why, but it was one of Alfred’s rules and so it was usually obeyed. She found Dick just outside the window from the attic, the one closest to the chimney he liked to lean against. He was staring at the phone in his hands, watching it ring. Cass climbed out of the window and joined him, sitting next to him against the stone and resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

“Artemis?”

Dick grunted.

“She answered the other times?” Dick had tried calling Artemis before, when Bizarro had fallen sick. He’d never discussed it, Cass thought maybe he’d not wanted to bring her up so soon after she had walked out of Gotham having killed within city limits. Batman did not approve.

“I only managed to get through once.” Dick let his head drop on top of hers. “There was so much interference I could barely understand her. She told me she was busy and hung up.”

“Keep trying,” Cass said, wrapping her arm around his and hugging it close. “Artemis would not ignore you. She loves Jason.”

“I know.” After a second, Dick hit redial and they watched together as it failed to go through. When the call ended automatically, he hit redial again and they repeated the process. “How are you, Cass?”

“I am worried,” Cass said. “But we will get him back, I know we will.”

“’Course we will.” Dick’s voice was not quite steady. Cass did not mention it, but she stayed where she was and watched as he kept dialing. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“I know.” Cass swallowed. “I am trying too.”

“You’re a good sister, Cass.” Dick shifted, pulling his arm from her grasp and wrapping it around her shoulders instead, pulling her in tightly against his side while he stared at the phone in his other. “I know you’ve been taking care of everyone today. I’m proud of you.”

“I can take care of you, too.”

His lips twitched, but the weight on his shoulders kept it from forming a true smile. “I’m the big brother here. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Usually when he said those words, Cass believed him. Dick was lighter than Bruce, even if some of his coping methods mirrored their father’s. But today she could see the weights pulling him down, and when she caught his eyes she saw something fragile in them that she knew might shatter, if Jason was not okay.

At that moment she very much thought that the fragile thing she saw had once been in Bruce’s eyes, and the pieces left behind had become the roiling waves that hid under his skin. It made her eyes prickle again. She wiped her eyes against Dick’s shirt and almost smiled at the soft huff he gave. He pressed a kiss against her forehead and dialed again.

When the phone clicked and connected, Cass felt him tense up.

“—what happened?” Artemis’ voice was gruff and underlined with worry, distorted slightly through the speaker phone. “There are too many missed calls for this to be anything but an emergency.”

“Jason was kidnapped,” Dick said, and his voice cracked halfway through. Cass clung tighter to him, lest he unravel and not get the words out. “Artemis, I think it was Circe.”

Cass’ head snapped up and she stared at Dick. “You know—”

“—she what—” in the background of the call, Cass heard something shatter. When Artemis spoke next, her voice was wild and shaking with rage. “Where?”

“GPS was all over the place,” Dick replied. “Last thing the tracker picked up was the Mediterranean sea.”

“Circe has an island,” Artemis said. “I know where. I will retrieve him.”

“Give me the coordinates.” Dick straightened up, letting Cass go. She watched him shove aside all the fragile bits, locking them tightly away. “You’re not doing this one alone.”

“I’m not waiting.”

“I didn’t say wait,” Dick replied. “Get him back, Artemis. We’ll be the cavalry.”

Cass waited until he hung up to get to her feet, frowning. “How did you know?”

“Artemis leaves and only a few days later Jason is abducted by an insanely powerful sorcerer?” Dick tucked his phone away, shrugging. “Donna is one of my best friends. I make a point to know who might be a threat. Jason running around with his team is just another reason to keep an eye out. He’s not the only one on that team who’s made enemies.”

Sometimes, he could be so much like Bruce it was startling that he didn’t see it. Cass followed him back inside the manor, anticipation bubbling in her gut.

Now, at least, Cass knew who to hit.

Chapter Text

The island of Aeaea was cloaked in magic, centuries worth of spells hiding it from plain sight and technology both—but even the most powerful of Circe’s spells could not stand up to the rage of Bana-Mighdall, for wrongs both recent and thousands of years past. Circe’s bloodied hands had marked the history of Artemis’ people from long before the Amazons had settled the city of her birth, and Artemis was not the naive girl she had once been. The sorceress was a fool if she thought she could snatch the little one from under Artemis’ nose and get away with it.

What use could Circe possibly have for Jason except to use him to needle at Artemis, another opening in a violent game that had already gone on too long?

Aeaea was small, untouched by modern Man’s World and covered with lush vegetation. Circe’s palace stood out, a white marble and elaborate temple atop the highest peak of the island. Circe’s typical monsters and beastimorphs were absent when Artemis stepped foot on the small dock on the southern tip of Aeaea. She could feel the prickle of magic against her senses. Circe’s magic was changeable, making it hard to recognize and identify. Artemis had been tricked by it enough over the years to know that the fact it was familiar to her here meant that Circe was waiting for her. It was a taunt, a display of overt power.

Artemis didn’t care.

Despite the tranquil and lush surroundings, Aenea was just an unnatural as its mistress. The most unnerving was the silence. Despite the trees and the absence of man, not a single bird, insect or mammal dared to call the island home. The distant sea and the wind were the only sounds Artemis could hear aside from her own footsteps against the path carved into the earth that led directly to the palace. She was not attempting to be subtle. Circe already knew she was coming. It was a trap Artemis entered willingly.

The crude stone path gave way to polished marble near the top of the peak, where white stairs led to carved marble beasts guarding the entrance. Once she climbed those, the sprawling marble palace was laid out, immense and classical in style. Artemis did not hesitate, not even at the sight of the two large chimera that waited on either side of the entrance. She strode right past them, into the palace and down the hall.

She did not know the way but found herself turning, following the hint of magic on the air like a trail. It led her straight into a large open courtyard in the center of the palace. A fountain dominated the space, a coiling sea serpent in white marble with rubies for eyes. Circe was sitting on the edge of it, hair in thick waves and wearing a loose white dress. Artemis’ eyes slid past the sorceress, finding Jason in the grasp of a chimera, the boy’s eyes glazed and tinted red from Circe’s magic.

“Welcome, Artemis.” Circe stood, dusting off the bottom of her dress. A smirk curled her lips. “You arrived sooner than I expected.”

Artemis’ fists clenched at her sides. “Give me the child.”

Circe glanced back to where the little one was sitting, still as a statue. It was only the slight rise and fall of his chest that even told Artemis he was still alive. “Now, now. I went to all the trouble of stealing him for myself. Why would I want to give him back so soon?”

Artemis let her attention focus on the boy. “Jason!”

For a moment his eyes remained unfocused. Then Jason shook himself, blinking and looking around. The red tinge to his gaze remained until Circe let out a bark of laughter and snapped her fingers, freeing the boy from her magic. Jason stared wide-eyed at the chimera that was curled around him before his gaze snapped to Artemis and his eyes watered. “Arty!” He struggled free, and Artemis’ heart leapt to her throat when the chimera moved, but it backed away and dissolved into red mist. When Jason started to run towards her, Circe intercepted him, sweeping the boy up into her arms and laughing in delight at the snarl Artemis gave.

“My, my, my,” Circe said, rocking Jason in her arms and ignoring his squirming to get free. “You really have grown attached to this one, haven’t you? He wouldn’t have lasted a single day in Bana-Mighdall.”

“In case you have forgotten, witch, Bana-Mighdall is no more.” Artemis flung her arm out to her side and summoned her axe, letting the summoning magic crackle wildly around her hand like it hadn’t since she had gained mastery of the weapon. “And the fury I hold for that will see you dead in the ground one day, but harm the boy and it won’t be as quick a death as you might like.”

Circe laughed again, bright and bell-like. “I do like this development!” She stroked her hand over Jason’s hair, brushing the curling strands that fell in his eyes back, fingers catching and rolling the strands of white between her fingers for a moment. “I hadn’t given much thought to you when I stole him, truth be told…well, maybe at first, a little. But trust me, Amazon. This child is far more interesting than you.”

For a moment Artemis was still, surprise and unease at war within her. “What do you want with him?”

“I suppose you can’t sense it, how interesting he is,” Circe said, tilting her head to the side as she stared down at Jason, still smiling. Jason was arched as far away from her as he could get, lower lip trembling. “Even before such an ugly magic had such an intriguing effect. I wanted to see if it was still there.” Circe’s hand began to glow with red magic and she brushed away the tears gathering at the corner of Jason’s eyes. “Hush, Lazarus child. Let me see you.” For a long moment the sorceress kept her gaze locked with the child, before with a laugh she looked away, grin widening. “There it is…all still there, fathoms deep.” Circe pressed glowing red lips to Jason’s forehead and set him on his feet. The imprint of her lips stood out like a bright brand before slowly fading from sight. “I can be patient, Amazon. What’s another ten years to one such as me? Take him, raise him, make him strong. Let me see what happens when an Amazon of Bana-Mighdall raises such a child.”

When Jason turned and ran straight for Artemis, the witch simply stood there, the same smirk curving her lips and her arms held peaceably at her sides. Artemis remained stock-still, staring right back at her, until Jason hit her legs and dissolved into sobs. Only then did she kneel down, letting the boy wrap his arms around her neck. Circe’s smirk widened, but even as Artemis tensed, she still did nothing. “What game are you playing, Circe?”

“A long one,” Circe replied, shrugging, sitting back down on the edge of the fountain and trailing her hands through the water. “I got what I wanted and more, Artemis. You’ll see.”

“No, I wont.” Artemis shifted, pushing Jason behind her and standing. “I’ll see you dead, witch.”

“You’ll risk the boy for that?” Circe asked, the red magic sparked, a new chimera twisting itself into reality beside her. “After I just gave him back? I could take him again, if you like. My whims are as changeable as the rest of me.”

“You want him alive and unharmed for your plots,” Artemis said, narrowing her eyes. “I will not allow you to use him for your own ends, Circe.”

“You’re as foolish as ever.” Circe rolled her eyes. “Perhaps motherhood will soften you in time.”

A hand tugged at Artemis’ arm, the one not holding the axe. Jason stared up at her, tearful again. “Arty, I wanna go home.”

“What a conundrum!” Circe held a hand to her mouth as she laughed, eyes closing in mirth. “The mighty warrior of Bana-Mighdall caught between the song of violence in her blood and the child she’s claimed as her own. What will you pick? Will you fight me and risk the boy coming to harm? Or will you grit your teeth and put him first, take him from this island and lose your chance to confront me? You can only pick one.”

Artemis stared Circe down, held her gaze even as the shadows moved behind the sorceress and the chimera dissipated under the blow of a sword striking true. Circe’s eyes widened and she swung around in place, chin jerking up as a blade slid under it. Artemis let her hand drift to Jason’s hair, before she gently turned his face against her body, obscuring his view of Circe held at sword-point by one of her sisters, while another swung her blade through the displaced red magic that had once been a chimera. “Who said I was alone, witch?”

Akila met Circe’s eyes and grinned, barring her teeth. “Surprised to see us, Circe? Bana-Mighdall does not forget.”

Behind Akila’s shoulder, Karna swung her sword one more time and quirked an eyebrow. “Thousands of years interfering and yet you still don’t understand us. We do not abandon our sisters.”

Up on the flat roof surrounding the courtyard, more of Artemis’ sisters appeared.

Circe’s eyes began to glow. “Very well. It seems this fight is happening after all.”

“Take the boy,” Akila said, not glancing away from Circe.

“Finish it quick, Akila, or I will return and steal your kill,” Artemis told her, smirking and sweeping Jason up into her arms and dashing away before Circe could gather her wits enough to try and hostage the boy.

The silence of Aeaea was broken by clashing steel and magic. Artemis did not pause, even as her instincts cried out against her turning her back on a foe. This was not a retreat. She had something more precious than revenge to worry about.

Artemis’ feet had only just hit the uneven path at the bottom of the marble stairs when the red magic lit up the sky and shook the ground. Circe was not holding back. In her arms, Jason gave a cry and buried his face against her neck.

“Hush, little one.” She paused long enough to glance back at the palace, at the cracking marble columns and collapsing walls. Not so pristine now. “I will keep you safe.”

“But your sisters,” Jason said, with a sniffle, lifting his head and pointing back. “They’ll get hurt!”

“They’re strong,” Artemis replied, allowing herself to clutch him closer for a moment. “They’re Amazons like me. They can deal with Circe, and I will take care of you.”

“One of those things remains to be seen,” a voice said, and then a woman was stepping out of the tree line. A second later and Artemis sensed the rest of them, still hidden in shadows, but many and ready. “But the boy is coming with me, I’m afraid.”

“You have nerve,” Artemis replied, giving her a once-over. The woman would not have looked out of place in Bana-Mighdall. She carried herself like a warrior, but less obviously than an Amazon might, a crafted guise hiding it from sight. It took a few moments of staring at the green eyes and shape of her nose before Artemis could place the features. “You’re Robin’s mother.”

“Yes, I am.” Talia al Ghul, for Artemis knew her by reputation if not on sight, stepped forward and nodded to Jason. “And I claim that one as mine as well. I invested much in his training. Too much to have it stolen by some foul magic.”

“He has lost nothing,” Artemis replied, tightening her arms around Jason and glaring the woman down. Jason hid his face away, burrowing against her again. “And if you try to take him, I will cut you into so many pieces that even the Demon’s Head himself will be unable to piece you back together.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Talia said. “You’re the Joker’s butcher, aren’t you?”

Artemis raised an eyebrow. “Is that meant to insult me? Stand aside. I will not ask again.”

“She’s not kidding, you know.”

Talia al Ghul froze. Artemis’ gaze snapped up to the sky.

Up above the trees two figures hovered in the air; the Titans known as Troia and Starfire.  

The cavalry had arrived.

***

“Kory, can you lend our sisters some help?” Donna asked, floating down to land next to Artemis. She didn’t look too long at the little boy in Artemis’ arms. There would be time to marvel over that later, once they had him safe and secure—and back home.

“Yell if you need me,” Kory replied, giving Talia one last look before flying off towards the battle that was taking place in the crumbling palace at the top of the mountain. Starbolts joined the magic in the air soon after.

Talia slowly turned to face them, expressionless. Behind her, the hidden assassins moved out of the shadows, forming a loose circle around the four of them. “I’m not leaving here without him.”

Artemis sneered. “Maybe you won’t leave here at all.”

Donna put a restraining hand on Artemis’ shoulder, enough pressure to keep her in place if she decided to take a flying leap at Talia. She gave Talia a tight smile. “I’m sure your people are very well-trained, but we’re Amazons and Nightwing isn’t far behind us. You’ve already lost, Talia.”

“Arrogant of you to assume,” Talia replied, but her mouth had tightened at Nightwing’s name and Donna knew the last thing she would want was a confrontation with him. Maybe Talia had convinced herself she had some kind of right to Jason, but against Jason’s brother? The same brother who had the loyalty of her son? No, Talia’s plan would hinge on leaving this place with Jason well before any of Jason’s real family showed up.

All Donna and Artemis needed to do was waste time until the jet landed and they would be free and clear.

The sky, already lit up with Circe’s red magic and Kory’s starbolts, was suddenly filled with smoke and fire. The palace on the peak of the island had gone up in an explosion of magic and power, sending fire and debris into the air. Beneath her feet Donna felt the ground shake. Glowing red cracks began to spread along the ground as it split open.

“What on—” Artemis was interrupted by an angry scream.

Circe hovered in the air over her ruined palace, red whipping wildly around as her body sparked and crackled with her power—red and volatile. There was a bright flash of red light and then low, rumbling growls filled the air as what looked like hundreds of Circe’s magically constructed monsters appeared all over the island, surrounding them and going on for as far as Donna could see.

In Artemis’ arms Jason coughed and started to cry as the smoke from the explosion filled the air, nearly overwhelming in its potency. The palace was still burning violently, a wild fire of magic that was spreading out, consuming everything in its path.

“Perhaps we should move this discussion elsewhere,” Talia said, just as one of her assassins was leapt on by a monster.

In the next second the rest descended, and Talia’s group of assassins began to fight back. It created enough distraction that Donna grabbed Artemis by the arm and pulled her away, in the direction of the shore. Talia was hot on their heels but more pressing was the swarm of monsters that growled and snapped their jaws. Donna held her shield in front of her, bashing them roughly out of the way. She strained her hearing, listening to Artemis and Talia’s footsteps and Jason’s breathing.

The ground continued to rumble and rupture, glowing red cracks splitting the land apart and becoming deep chasms. A scream of rage came from behind and before Donna could react she was thrown forward, landing hard on the ground, her shield arm taking the brunt of her weight. Artemis cursed, curling protectively around Jason. Behind them Talia was down on one knee, scowling up at Circe, who hovered above them, her eyes swallowed entirely by red magic, teeth barred in a savage snarl. The ground they were on shifted and cracked and then rose into the air, separating from the rest of the island and leaving them trapped.

“You dare!” Circe’s voice was harsh, echoing with power and rage both. “I will rend your flesh from your bones!”

Donna got to her feet and found herself with an armful of small boy as Artemis passed Jason to her, summoning her axe and moving toward Circe. “Artemis—”

“—you can fly,” Artemis said, cutting her off. “If you must, take the little one and leave this place. I am a daughter of Bana-Mighdall. I will join my sisters in this battle.”

A starbolt knocked Circe off balance and she turned in the air to snarl at Kory. Artemis took the opportunity to leap at her, hitting Circe in the back and sending the two of them sailing towards Kory. Donna could hear Circe let out another scream of rage, and then the fight between the three of them disappeared from her line of sight, behind the cover of burning trees and rising smoke.

Without Circe nearby, the ground they were standing on began to fall out of the sky. Donna took to the air, whispering soft assurances to Jason, who was staring off after Artemis with tearful eyes. Talia let out a hiss and then jumped away, landing safely in a roll and getting back to her feet and glaring up at Donna. The monsters began to immediately swarm her, only to be met with Talia’s sword and the group of assassins that melted out from cover, cutting down the creatures left and right. Circe was powerful, but the sheer number of constructs she’d created meant that the power was spread. Each individual one was far less powerful than her normal, larger monsters.

Donna took the opportunity to fly off, carrying Jason towards the docks and leaving the group of assassins behind. The boy was shaking in her arms, muffling little sobs against her neck. “It’ll be okay,” she told him, rubbing his back and landing on the pier. The beach, at least, was free of Circe’s monsters and she relaxed a little. From here the entire island looked to be on fire, trees aflame with the bright red magical fire while the ground continued to crack open in places under the strain of Circe’s magical power. “You’ll be okay, Jason. Kory and I came ahead, but the rest of the Titans were just behind us in the jet. Your family will be here soon.”

“Wh—where is Arty?” Jason rubbed his eyes, giving a little shiver as the wind around them picked up. The boy was only dressed in pajamas. Donna hugged him closer. “I want Arty.”

“She’ll be back soon, I promise.” Donna smiled, rocking him gently as they waited. The warrior in her was singing out for battle, but the mother knew what was more important. Her own child was beyond her grasp, but this one she could keep safe. “We’re going to wait here, okay?”

Jason nodded, a little shakily. He suddenly froze in her arms, grip around her neck tightening, and Donna glanced up to see Talia walking towards them while the assassins formed a protective ring at the end of the dock, facing the tree line.

“I can just fly up fifty feet in the air with him and wait you out,” Donna said, shifting to the side so Jason was shielded from Talia’s view.

The sound of the battle was loud in the air, but Donna caught the hint of a jet engine rising above it. She didn’t bother to search the sky for sight of it—the Titans’ invisible jet would remain in stealth mode to give the team the element of surprise as they joined the fight.

Talia stopped ten feet away and folded her arms. “It is in his best interests to come with me.”

Donna laughed. “Is it?”

“The Pit will restore him,” Talia said.

“The Pit might restore him.” Donna raised an eyebrow. “And it’s not really up to you, is it?”

“He is in danger every moment that you delay.” Talia sighed. “He has been immersed before and survived—he is practiced in managing the Pit’s influence. I will take him and fix this mess of a spell and then return him to his father.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

Talia froze, tension seeping into her body as she turned around to face Nightwing, standing next to the Flash. The assassins hadn’t even noticed them breach their line. Wally saluted Donna and then turned and disappeared, back towards the battle still raging in the distance.

Dick glared at Talia, chin raised and mouth a thin line. “If I recall, Talia, the last time you kidnapped my brother you hid him from his family and then turned him against us.”

“He made his own choices.”

“Guided by you, of course.” Dick moved forward, pushing past Talia and continuing to Donna, eyes fixed on Jason. The boy was already leaning out of Donna’s arms and reaching for him. Once Dick had Jason, he turned back to Talia. “A Pit-influenced fifteen year old boy isn’t exactly the hardest thing to manipulate, is it?”

“Think what you want of it,” Talia snapped. “I have better things to do with my time than justify myself to you. I did not come here for my own benefit. Damian called me and requested my help.”

Dick shook his head. “Putting Jason in the Pit isn’t your call, and it’s not Damian’s either.”

“Bruce would want him fixed,” Talia said. “You know he would. He has already lost his son once. Let me restore him. Come with us if you must; the only reason I sought to take him without notice is because you and my Beloved both have a history of being unable to make the hard choices. We can bring Jason back, you know he would want it.”

“You don’t know Bruce at all,” Dick said, “if you even think for a second he would want you within ten feet of Jason after you stole him from us.” Dick took a breath. “And he wouldn’t want him just thrown in the Pit. It’s not a magical fix-all, Talia. You have no idea how the magic of the Pit could interact with this spell. It’s not happening.”

“I do not believe the decision is yours, either,” Talia said, voice a low hiss and eyes narrowed.

“Actually, it is.” Dick shrugged. “But feel free to ask Bruce yourself.”

Another jet was approaching fast in the distance, sleek and black and quiet.

“With so many of us here, there might not be much of a battle for me to join,” Donna said.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Dick said, as the black jet began landing on the beach. “I can handle things here.”

Judging from the vexed expression that twisted Talia’s face before she hid it behind a carefully composed mask, Dick wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest.

Batman was the first to leave the jet. Talia jerked a hand and the assassins all drew back. Batman didn’t so much as spare them a glance, just strode right by and approached them. Donna startled when the next person out of the jet was her sister—Diana was in full costume and took to the air immediately, flying right off towards the battle.

“Go on,” Dick said. “Circe is Amazon business, isn’t she? We can handle our family drama from here.”

Even so, Donna waited until Batman and Talia were locked into a staring contest before finally lifting off from the ground and turning her attention to the fight.

***

It had been a long time since Kory had fought a being with such immense power.

Circe wished to keep the fight in the air; the Amazons were largely bound to the earth, even as it cracked and split under them. Kory did her best to control the area. Her starbolts reacted explosively to Circe’s magic, it was enough for Kory to maintain higher altitude and send a flurry of bolts at Circe, sending her reeling towards the ground, into the range of the Amazon warriors.

When Artemis joined the fight, it became easier. She couldn’t fly, but Circe seemed focused on her, more willing to stay lower to the ground to engage her and thus allow Kory to focus on more than just controlling the battlefield.

“You think you’re a match for me?” Circe unleashed a concussive blast of power with a shriek, forcing Kory and the group of Amazons back.

Kory brought her arms up in front of her face, shielding herself. The magic hissed and fizzled unpleasantly against her own power. “I endured far worse than this as an untrained girl on Okaara!”

The starbolts were reacting in unpredictable ways with Circe’s magic; even the fires that raged through the island’s vegetation must have been steeped in magic, sizzling and exploding from the combination of magic and Kory’s power whenever a starbolt sailed too close.

When the Titans jet arrived, it came with reinforcements. Garth’s magic paled in comparison to the strength of the sorceress they were fighting, but was vital in a support role. The monsters that Circe conjured fell quickly under the combined power of Garth and Wally, who sped through the battlefield and sucked oxygen away from the raging fires and cut a swath through the monsters. Omen co-ordinated from the jet, which maintained a continuous circle  around the battlefield. Roy leaned out of the open bay door and fired arrows into the fray.

By now Circe’s palace was nothing more than smoldering ruins. A stray blast of Kory’s starbolts had sent the entire thing up in flame anew, the roaring violent red magic devouring what normal fire could not.

Artemis and Circe were locked together, Artemis’ axe against shimmering red blades of magic that Circe had summoned. It seemed like Artemis might have had the upper hand when Circe screamed again, unleashing a concussive blast that threw Artemis back and sent debris flying. One of Roy’s arrows exploded the second it touched the red field of magic.

Artemis was caught mid-air by Wonder Woman herself. Circe’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing once more in rage.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, summoning wildly crackling magic around her hands.

“Hello, Circe.” Wonder Woman set Artemis on her feet and approached Circe. The red magic did nothing but ruffle her hair. “This ends here.”

***

Steph spent the entire trip on the jet a nervous wreck, which especially sucked because she’d been sitting next to Wonder Woman the entire time and it was literally standing next to a goddess while she had puffy raccoon eyes and kept crying sporadically. Diana had been extremely nice about the whole thing, but Steph had the horrible feeling she would forever be ‘the crying girl’ and she was a badass on a good day, but this was not by any means a good day. She’d napped for a grand total of an hour since Jason had gone missing and she’d woken up half-way through a nightmare about Black Mask that made the inside of her brain feel as raw as her eyes.  

Exiting the jet to find Batman and Talia al Ghul in full stare down was a surprise and a half, but then she saw exactly who was standing behind them and she was running full-tilt across the beach and onto the docks, eyes already watering like the traitors they were. She didn’t quite tackle Dick and Jason when she reached them but it was a close thing. The relief in her throat almost strangled her.

“Oh my God, Jason, you’re okay!” He wriggled away from the kisses she rained on his cheeks, shoving one hand against her mouth and pushing her away with a grimace, and it made her laugh, because he was okay, and then she was sinking down to her knees on the dock, crying her damn eyes out while Batman and his ex had their standoff and Jason quietly asked Dick what was wrong with her.

“Steph was worried about you,” Dick said, crouching and setting Jason down on the dock. He frowned down at Jason’s bare feet. “We need to get you wrapped up before you get sick.”

“It’s not cold,” Jason said, pushing his way into Steph’s lap and wrapping his arms around her neck.

Cass and Damian were approaching from the other end of the dock, but stopped in place when the discussion between Bruce and Talia grew heated.

“I don’t care,” Batman said, loud enough to carry. “I don’t care who asked or why. It will be a cold day in hell before I let you anywhere near him.”

Damian’s face shuttered and he looked away. Cass placed her hand on his shoulder.

“The offer is still open,” Talia said, stepping back and turning away. “You know how to get in touch.”

Batman didn’t reply, simply stared after her as she walked away. Damian had his face turned down and didn’t look at his mother as she left; nor did Talia look back at him. Cass squeezed Damian’s shoulder and then jogged over to join them at the end of the dock. She even had a blanket in hand, because Cass was amazing like that. She knelt next to Steph and bundled Jason in the blanket, ignoring his squirming and protests.

“You might catch cold,” Cass said, as Jason slapped her hand away.

The island gave a violent rumble. Steph caught herself on one hand and looked over the raging fire, half expecting to see a volcanic eruption. Instead, off in the distance Wonder Woman and a woman wielding red magic—Circe, she must have been Circe—were clashing in the air above the largest of the burning fires.

“Get Jason back to the jet,” Batman said, striding off towards the shore. He placed one hand on Damian’s shoulder and squeezed, nudging the boy back towards the batplane.

Steph got to her feet with Cass’ help, Jason a wriggling weight in her arms. Once he got his arms around her neck and his eyes on Dick he settled, letting her carry him the whole way without complaint.

“I want Arty,” he said, once they were inside and Steph was attempting to get him secured in one of the seats.

“She’ll be back soon.” Dick looked over his shoulder as Batman boarded the plane. “I should go see how my team is doing.”

“No!” Jason threw himself out of Steph’s hold towards Dick, who caught him without looking and lifted him into his arms.

“Stay here,” Batman said, pulling the cowl off and moving towards the front of the plane. “This is not our fight.”

“They took our brother,” Cass muttered, giving the closing door a considering look.

“We have him back,” Bruce said. “I’m getting us in the air. Black Bat, Batgirl, stay near the door; we may need to help get everyone away from this place.”

Steph stared out the window as the jet took off. Off in the distance she could see the Titans’ jet, circling the battlefield, low to the ground while Amazons leapt from the split open island onto the safety of the jet. The island was mostly obscured with heavy smoke and a few stubbornly raging fires. Wonder Woman and Circe were still fighting, climbing higher and higher in the air. Kory and Donna were following, but a sudden blast of red magic sent them hurtling back down towards the ground. Kory recovered quicker and grabbed Donna around the waist, pulling them both up.

When Steph glanced back to check on Jason, she found that Dick had settled in one of the chairs and had Jason bundled up in the blanket, rocking him as Jason cried silently. His fingers were in his mouth, being chewed on anxiously. Damian had taken the chair next to Dick and glanced away from Jason, frowning.

“I know Mother told you I called her,” Damian said, drawing Dick’s attention. “We could hear through your comm.”

Dick shifted Jason in his lap. Steph could see the boy’s eyes drifting shut. “I wasn’t going to bring it up right now.”

“I take responsibility for my actions,” Damian replied, frowning. “I felt that you and Father were going to destroy your relationship and never make the hard call—so I asked Mother to do it. She holds some affection for Jason and she and Father have already burned bridges.”

“Bruce and I will be fine,” Dick said. He untangled one of his hands from Jason’s blanket and ruffled Damian’s hair. “But I meant what I said to Talia. That’s not a choice you can make, Damian. It’s not up to you to go behind our backs and throw Jason in the Pit. It could have killed him.”

Damian nodded, swallowing. He directed his gaze to Jason and watched him with a furrowed brow. “I apologize. I believed it was the best course of action, considering the deadly nature of the spell he’s under. Doing nothing isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“We’re not exactly doing nothing,” Dick said. “You might want to go repeat all that for Bruce’s benefit. Next time, maybe suggest we give your mother a sample of the magic liquid to experiment with first, rather than going straight for our brother?”

Damian grimaced, but nodded and got to his feet, disappearing to the front of the plane where Bruce was piloting.

“Do you think the Pit could help?” Steph asked, once she was sure Damian was gone. “Talia said the offer was still open.”

Dick brushed Jason’s hair back. “He’s not going in the Pit.”

Before Steph could even think of a response, the plane shook violently. Jason awoke with a cry, clinging to Dick. Steph nearly toppled over, but Cass was there to catch and steady her.

Outside the plane, a great blooming fireball of magic was spreading through the sky, and Wonder Woman was hurtling towards the ground.

Steph could only gape at the sight. “Holy shit, did she lose?”

The plane turned, following Wonder Woman’s descent even as the Titans’ plane, which had been closer to the explosion, crackled with magic and backed off, descending towards the island.

Kory had been in the sky with Donna and dove again, catching Diana before she hit the ground. She turned and immediately made for the batplane. Donna flew behind, slower and with a hand held to her head.

Batman barely gave any warning before opening the doors to let them in. Steph and Cass grabbed Diana, helping her into a seat. Donna collapsed into one beside her and took her sister’s hand. A few seconds later Artemis and another Amazon appeared and the doors shut.

“The rest are in the other plane,” Artemis said, shoving the woman beside her towards a free seat. “I’ll tell Batman to get us out of here.”

“Arty,” Jason called plaintively, sniffling when she disappeared from sight.

“What happened?” Donna asked Diana, as Steph grabbed a med-kit and put it at their feet. She had no idea if they’d need it, but there wasn’t much else to do except wring her hands.

“Circe attempted to take me out with her,” Diana said, leaning forward to take the icepack Cass offered and press it to Donna’s head, ignoring her sister’s protests. “Hush, Donna. I’ll recover. Circe’s magic has a limited effect on me.”

In Dick’s lap, Jason’s cries had quietened and he was staring at Wonder Woman in silent awe. When Diana turned and caught his eye, he ducked away shyly, hiding his face against Dick’s chest and staying like that until Diana eventually got up to move to the front of the jet to speak to Bruce.

When Jason finally pulled away and looked around again, his gaze caught and stopped on Kory, and Steph felt something leap in her chest at what looked like faint recognition. It had been a while since anything had pinged his memory, but Steph supposed that if anything was going to, it would be Kory. She was kind of unforgettable.

“It’s Donna and Kory,” Dick said, standing up with Jason in his arms and moving closer to them. “You met Donna earlier, remember?”

Jason nodded, gaze briefly moving to Donna before he looked back at Kory. He pointed at her. “I know you.”

Kory smiled, leaning down and kissing the hand Jason was pointing at her. “Yes, you do.”

“You remember Kory?” Dick asked, grinning widely.

“Yes,” Jason said, reaching out for her. “And I talked to her on the phone.”

Kory laughed, taking his hands and squeezing them gently. “You said I couldn’t speak to Dick.”

“That’s because he’s mine and you can’t have him,” Jason replied, scowling when they laughed. “Arty is mine, too.”

“You’ll have to fight me for her,” said the Amazon that Artemis had pushed down into one of the seats. Cass sat next to her, handing her supplies from the medkit. There was a wound near her hairline that was still bleeding slightly.

Jason turned in Dick’s arms and gave the Amazon a considering look. “I will win.”

The Amazon looked amused. “How do you plan to do that?”

“I will call Arty and she will fight you for me,” Jason replied. “She is much stronger than you.”

The Amazon laughed. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes, I do.” Jason turned his nose up at her. “I saw you sneak up on the witch by the fountain. Arty is better.”

The Amazon stared back at him, eyebrows raised, before laughing. “Of course, of all the children in the world, she would pick you, wouldn’t she?”

It was at that moment that Artemis returned from the front of the jet. She frowned at the Amazon. “What are you saying about me now?”

Jason wriggled in Dick’s arms and reached for Artemis. “Arty! She said that I had to fight her, but she doesn’t think you’d beat her for me!”

Artemis raised an eyebrow, taking Jason from Dick and holding him close in her arms. She glanced back at the Amazon. “That’s Akila. She knows nothing, ignore her.”

Jason nodded, very seriously. Akila rolled her eyes, lips twitching.

Now that the tension had eased, Steph could feel exhaustion creeping up on her. She joined Cass, sitting down next to her in the cramped back of the jet and leaning against her. After a moment, she shifted and put her head on Cass’ shoulder.

When Steph finally fell asleep, her dreams were untroubled and filled with childish laughter.

Chapter Text

Bruce had been friends with Diana for long enough that silences between them were rarely awkward. After the hell that had been the last few days, it was downright comforting. Diana had arrived gratifyingly fast when Bruce had contacted her about Jason’s abduction, unwilling to leave it in the hands of just Artemis or the Titans. They were capable but…

It was Jason.

“Are you okay, Bruce?” Diana asked, as they approached New York City and the drop point for the Titans and Amazons on board.

“I’m fine.” Bruce could feel her staring at him. “I’m not lying.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her smile. “I wasn’t going to suggest that.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Maybe a little.” Diana sighed. “What will you do, about Talia’s offer? I know that this situation has been hard on you.”

Bruce shook his head. “I…there’s no guarantee with anything, Diana. The Pit is just another kind of magic, and I’ve been so caught up in advocating for what Jason would have wanted; to be returned to normal, to have his life and independence back, that I became blinded. I’m not objective about this. Of all things, would Jason really want the Pit?” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I should have known the second I suggested it to Dick that I had really, truly lost sight of what was important. And of course, Damian had to overhear and decide to take matters into his own hands.”

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Diana said. “He’s never really seen you and Dick at your worst.”

“I know,” Bruce replied. “I don’t blame him. It’s not just Jason that I haven’t been the best father for.”

“You have time to fix that.”

“With Damian I do.”

They lapsed into welcome silence; perhaps Diana sensed that Bruce was in no mood to talk more about his glaring failings as a parent. Where Clark might have pushed, Diana would let him retreat and stew in his own thoughts.

The Titans’ New York tower was just in sight when she spoke again.

“We need to talk about Artemis.”

Bruce clenched his jaw. “Do we?”

“Bruce, I know that you hold you and yours to a certain standard,” Diana said. “I understand that you don’t appreciate Artemis coming into your city and enacting a more…Amazonian sense of justice, but—”

“—Joker’s death is a relief,” Bruce said, cutting Diana off before she went down unneeded paths. “I don’t care that he’s dead and I don’t particularly care that she killed him. Her moral code is her own—but she did it while in my city, under my roof, and that’s something I can’t abide. I hold my own children to a certain standard. I won’t excuse a stranger.”

“That’s understandable,” Diana replied. “But with Jason’s…situation.”

“Keeping her from him would hurt him more than it would her.” He wished it wasn’t so, but Jason’s attachment to Artemis was an eerie mirror of his immediate acceptance of Sheila Haywood, a reminder that Bruce tried not to think about. Artemis, at least, seemed just as attached and protective in return, which put her several leagues ahead of Sheila no matter the blood on her hands. “But the terms of her staying in Gotham are between Artemis and I, Diana—and I doubt she’d want you interfering, anyway.”

Diana smiled, a little rueful. “No, she probably wouldn’t, but that doesn’t matter. She’s one of mine, Bruce. I protect my own, you know that.”

“I do know that.”

Bruce didn’t linger in New York. He didn’t even shut the jet’s engine down as the Amazons and Titans left the plane, leaving behind only Artemis and the children he was taking back to Gotham. Jason was quiet and content the entire journey, having been given a kiss on the forehead by Diana before she’d left. Bruce waited until the plane was landed and he was half out of costume before approaching the boy, mindful as ever of his intense dislike of Batman.

He couldn’t blame him for it, after everything.

Jason let Bruce pick him up, snuggling in close and hooking one arm around Bruce’s neck. The other hand he had to his mouth, chewing absently on his fingers as his eyes followed Dick and Artemis around the Cave. The prominent return of the habit made something in his chest twist painfully; Jason’s fading memories of the Joker at least meant he felt secure in the manor, his nightmares greatly reduced in number and not quite as severe. Now, having been snatched out from under them, he was back to feeling insecure and frightened.

Alfred was waiting in the Cave and directed Damian, Steph and Cass upstairs to join the rest of the family. “Miss Zatara is coming down to see Master Jason.”

Good, getting Jason checked out was priority number one.

When Jason caught sight of Zatanna on the stairs from the manor, he tensed in Bruce’s arms and started to squirm, attempting to get free.

“It’s okay, Jay,” Bruce said, handing the boy to Dick as his eldest approached. “We just want to make sure Circe didn’t hurt you.”

“I’m fine!” Jason scowled, kicking out towards Zatanna when she got near. “You just want to turn me back! I don’t want to disappear!”

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath. Dick had, briefly, alluded to a conversation with Jason he’d had before the boy had been taken. Bruce had not given it the due attention at the time, consumed with worry about Jason’s disappearance. Perhaps if he had not pushed it to the back of his mind he wouldn’t feel quite so winded right now.

Zatanna held her hands out. “Honey, I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to; it’s far beyond me. I really just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s a lot of magic you got exposed to.”

Jason teared up, turning in Dick’s arms until he spotted Artemis, lingering behind them. She’d yet to come too close to Bruce, and he preferred it that way. Let her be wary, they still had a lot to discuss before anything between them was settled.

“You’ll be fine, little one.” Artemis nodded towards Zatanna, and Jason finally settled enough and let Zatanna come in range to place her hands gently on his head and close her eyes. Several minutes went by in uneasy silence.

“Huh.” Zatanna blinked several times, frowning and shifting her hands to cup Jason’s face, before she drew away. “Well.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that,” Dick said, setting Jason down on his feet when the boy began to squirm again. Jason darted off towards the whiteboard that Tim had set up in the Cave with the reasoning that sometimes he needed to draw things out by hand to think through them. Bruce had thought it was an excuse to have a giant board that the boys could write insulting and obscene messages to each other on, but apparently it did serve a practical purpose, as it was currently covered in Tim’s scrawling regarding one of their open cases. Dick’s eyes followed Jason’s progress. “Don’t mess with that!”

Bruce frowned at Zatanna. “Is something wrong with him?”

“Well, I guess that depends on your definition of wrong,” Zatanna said, avoiding his eyes. Bruce’s alarm ratcheted up to near panic levels. They had just gotten Jason back. They didn’t need another crisis. Zatanna sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “The spell is…gone.”

“Gone?”

“Not a trace of magic on him.” Zatanna shook her head, holding her hands out helplessly. “I…Circe wields magic on the level of a goddess, Bruce. If there was anyone on the planet who could look at the mess of that spell and unravel it, it’s her.”

“So, Jason’s safe?” Dick asked, glancing back and forth between Zatanna and Jason, who was now carrying a stool over to the whiteboard so he could reach it. “Jay! Don’t mess with that.”

Jason did not give Dick the courtesy of even turning around to acknowledge he’d spoken.

Well, at least Bruce could take cold comfort in the fact that Jason’s tendency to ignore him whenever he pleased was being extended to his new authority figures. It made him feel slightly less of a complete failure.

“He’s one hundred percent spell free,” Zatanna said, once Dick had turned his attention back to her. “You might notice the slight problem with that.”

“He’s still seven,” Artemis said, staring at Jason with narrowed eyes. “Did Circe really remove the spell, or did she just take out the part that was a danger to him?”

“It’s completely gone without a trace,” Zatanna replied. “It feels like she stripped everything off—I can’t even feel her power, which should have left some kind of imprint. I can feel her magic on all of you, but Jason? He’s pristine. I can’t even feel whatever it was she did to the spell to get rid of it.”

“What does this mean?” Bruce asked, already mentally sliding through the contingencies they had in place because he had a feeling he knew exactly what this meant.

“There is no magical way to detect that he is not a normal seven year old child,” Zatanna said. “You can get S.T.A.R labs to run some tests but his previous medical results were already identical to a typical child before the spell was lifted.”

“He cannot be changed back.” Artemis took a deep breath, clenching her fists. “It is the outcome I expected.”

Dick glanced at Bruce thoughtfully, before rubbing a hand over his face and nodding. “Well, considering the only idea we had was ‘throw him in the Pit’, we’re lucky that the dangerous part of all this is gone.”

Everybody but Bruce, it seemed, had been well-prepared for this eventuality. His own mind felt foggy and slow.

“I’m not sure how that was an option,” Zatanna said, alarmed. “I expressly told you to stay away from magic and the Pit is some of the worst kind. A necromancy spell that’s gone wrong, interacting with the Lazarus Pit of all things? Whose clever idea was that?”

Bruce sighed. “Mine.” Damian had almost certainly gotten the idea from him, and was a child besides—the fault lay with him.

“I’m revoking your planning privileges involving anything supernatural or magical in nature,” Zatanna said, and smacked him on the arm just to rub it in. “Are you out of your batty mind?”

“I was…concerned.”

Dick snorted.

“World’s Greatest Something,” Zatanna muttered, shaking her head. She nodded back towards the stairs. “I asked the rest of your brood to wait upstairs, I wasn’t sure how delicate the magic might have been. I’m going to head off, but let me know if you have any other brilliant ideas for turning him back—preferably before you enact them.”

“It is folly to continue to fight this,” Artemis said, glaring at Bruce.

Bruce frowned. “It’s no longer urgent. Jason is safe. I could continue to look into it.”

“How do you remove magic that is not even recognizable as magic?” Artemis shook her head. “How long before you found something, if you even could? You would be stealing life from the little boy instead. Jason is guided by Fate. Even Circe recognized that. Who are you to stand in the way of the will of the Gods?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be one to give weight to things like that.”

“In the grand scheme of things, you know very little.” Artemis turned away. “The best you put to the task couldn’t fix it before, it is foolish to remain in denial now.”

Zatanna stepped between them, holding her hands up. “Look, now isn’t the time. Sleep on it. He’s safe. I’ll look into whatever you need, Bruce—but Artemis isn’t wrong about the likely outcome. To remove a spell, a spell has to be present, and if there’s something left there it’ll take another sorcerer on Circe’s level to even detect it.”

“Thank you, Zee.” Bruce rubbed at his eyes, feeling the exhaustion catching up on him now that the adrenaline and sheer worry had mostly receded. “For all your help with this.”

Zatanna nodded and turned to leave. “Of course, Bruce.”

Before Bruce could decide what to do next, Dick grabbed him by the shoulder, face drawn and serious. “We need to talk about this.”

“I know,” Bruce said, glancing over at Jason. He was standing on the stool and writing on the whiteboard. “But not now. It’ll keep until we’ve all slept some.”

Dick nodded. “I’ll go upstairs and calm the herd down. You and Artemis can bring him up.”

Artemis remained leaning against one of the workbenches nearby but offered no protests.

Bruce squeezed Dick’s shoulder before nodding and stepping back. Something niggled at the back of his mind. “Dick.”

Dick paused, looking back.

“Before we got him back, when Zatanna said that Jason wasn’t resurrected by the Lazarus Pit.” Bruce searched his son’s eyes, watching as he frowned, expression closing off. “Your reaction…”

“Yeah.” Dick rubbed a hand over his face. “I already knew, kind of. Some of Jason’s nightmares. He told me about them.”

“What did he tell you?” They all knew the vague context of Jason’s night terrors—the Joker, his death—but Jason was as close-lipped about the specifics as he was regarding anything that had to do with the memories that had been drifting through his fingers like grains of sand.

“I…wasn’t sure it was really what happened. At some point he started getting memories mixed up with normal nightmares.” Dick looked away. “He dreamed he was resurrected inside the coffin, that he crawled out of his own grave.”

Bruce closed his eyes. The alarms on the coffin wouldn’t have triggered. One mystery solved. A bitter victory that tasted like bile in his mouth.

“Judging from your reaction, it wasn’t just a nightmare.” Dick gave a bitter laugh. “Too much to hope for, I guess.”

It took Dick a few seconds to visibly compose himself before he nodded and turned away again, jogging up the stairs to the manor.

Bruce waited until Dick had disappeared before turning to Artemis, regarding her thoughtfully for a moment. “I suppose we need to talk.”

“I suppose we do.” Artemis straightened to her full height. “I make no apologies for my actions, but I doubt you’re expecting one.”

“No, I’m not.” Bruce glanced over at Jason, who was still occupied at the whiteboard. “I’m not going to attempt to keep you from him, but you don’t work in Gotham unless it’s under my rules.”

“Acceptable,” Artemis replied, narrowing her eyes. “But if it comes down to it, and someone or something threatens him, I will hunt them to the ends of the Earth to protect him. Your rules are nothing when weighed against his life.”

For a moment, he simply stared at her. Then, stiffly, he nodded, turning and approaching Jason at the whiteboard.

“What are you doing with that, Jay?” Bruce asked, scooping the boy up into his arms and looking the board over. Jason wriggled, twisting to make himself comfortable and kicking his legs while Bruce surveyed his additions to Tim’s notes.

He’d underlined a name near the bottom of the list and drawn stars around it. Beside it he had scrawled out the word ‘Digoxin’. Bruce stared at it for a moment before carrying Jason away from the board and handing him to Artemis.

“I was helping,” Jason said, scowling.

“How did you know that name?” Bruce asked.

Jason shrugged, looking away. “It looked right.” He wriggled determinedly until Artemis set him on his feet. “Cass said she made me a cake. I’m gonna go eat it.” He dashed off towards the stairs.

“Don’t eat the whole cake, you’ll make yourself sick!” Bruce called after him.

Jason didn’t pause. “Your face is making yourself sick!”

Bruce watched him thunder up the staircase, something warm and fond tugging at his heart.

Artemis moved towards the whiteboard. “Circe said something about him, before I got him back.”

Bruce frowned. “What?”

“She said everything was still there,” Artemis replied. “I don’t know what she saw in him, or why she was so interested, but—” the Amazon shrugged, turning to follow Jason up the stairs “—it’s better he doesn’t remember everything now, but that doesn’t mean it will stay that way. He has time.”

Bruce glanced back at Jason’s childish handwriting on the whiteboard. Jason had time.

He spent a minute in contemplation, torn between the reunion happening upstairs and the solitude of the Cave, where he could pause and collect himself. He startled when his phone began to vibrate in his utility belt. He slid it out and frowned at it, raising an eyebrow before answering.

“What’s happened?”

***

The family den was close to the kitchen and always managed to seem comforting and cozy, despite the size of the room. It had been that way for as long as Bruce could remember. There were enough couches and armchairs in the room to comfortably seat the whole family and numerous guests, but he was somehow not surprised to find that the children were decidedly not making use of most of them.

Instead, all the boys were on the single long couch directly in front of the television, while Cass and Steph shared an armchair and gave them superior looks. Dick sat at one end of the couch, Jason in his lap and face buried against the arm. Duke sat at the other end, fighting with Tim for the controller. Damian was between Tim and Dick, clenching his fists like he was about to attack someone. Jason had chocolate icing smeared all over his mouth and was laughing uproariously and throwing Lego—they were hidden all over the manor at this point, Bruce was resigned to it—at Tim’s head.

Bruce glanced from the boys to the game they were playing, raising an eyebrow. It was undeniably a horror game. “What is that?”

“It’s called Outlast,” Tim replied, and then bit his lip. “Oh, you meant that to be a rebuke and not a question. Uh, it’s Dick’s fault.”

“I did not approve that!” Dick said, turning his face away from the arm of the chair. He put his hand up to cover Jason’s eyes. “Stop looking at the scary game, Jay.”

“It’s not scary,” Jason said, batting Dick’s hands away and then jumping when something appeared on screen. He yelped, turning and burying his face against Dick’s chest. “It just surprised me!”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Why are you playing that with Jason and Damian in the room?”

“What do you mean ‘and Damian’?” the boy in question asked, as Tim and Duke cracked up laughing and the girls jeered from the safety of their armchair. “I’ve seen scarier things in real life! I am a scarier thing in real life!”

“Your face is scarier,” Jason said, and pelted Damian with a Lego.

Bruce sighed. “Jason, stop throwing things at your brothers.”

“They’re not my brothers.” Jason threw another Lego. “I’m the nephew now. I can do whatever I want.”

“That is not how that works,” Damian said, and tossed a Lego right back at him. Jason ducked and it hit Dick instead. “It’s just a cover story.”

“Your face is a cover story,” Jason replied.

“Think up a new insult!”

“Think up a new face!”

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Dick said, shifting out from under Jason and managing to wrangle both boys, one under each arm. “I’ll take you guys upstairs and we’ll find something age appropriate for you both to do while Tim and Duke play their scary game.”

“It’s my game,” Jason said. “Damian and I bought it with Bruce’s money and you didn’t notice.”

“Stop confessing!” Damian made a noise like an angry cat and at that point Dick couldn’t keep a straight face and started laughing as well.

“See, it worked,” Jason said. “I’m a genius.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Boys…”

“Did you want something, Bruce?” Stephanie asked, putting on an overly innocent voice only to snort and start giggling.

“Clark called,” Bruce said, “about Bizarro.”

Jason’s head snapped around. “Biz!”

Dick set the boys back down. Damian turned away in a huff, but Jason ran to Bruce, tugging on his arm.

“He’s on his way,” Bruce said, squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “I told Clark to come out the back, since Aunt Agatha isn’t returning tonight.”

“That woman has a better social life than me and I’m in college,” Stephanie said, getting to her feet and offering her hand to Cass, pulling her up onto her feet. “That’s kind of sad.”

“Trust me,” Dick said. “You do not want that kind of social life.”

Jason dashed away, footsteps echoing as he pelted outside. Dick hurried after him, while the rest of the kids followed more sedately. Bruce caught Damian by the shoulder and pulled him against his side, bringing up the rear.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Damian tensed. “I already explained my actions, and Richard has already pointed out the flaws in my plan.”

“Not about that.” Bruce squeezed his shoulder. “I would never try to stop you from contacting your mother and yes, making an executive decision like that about Jason without his consent is wrong, but I’ve mishandled this situation from the start and I know that being around Dick and I when we fight can be overwhelming. I’m sorry about that.”

Damian nodded, frowning thoughtfully. “You said ‘his consent’.”

“I did.”

“Not yours?” Damian looked up at him. “Or Richard’s?”

Bruce swallowed. “His is the most important, Damian. I forgot that for a while.”

They walked in silence for a moment.

Damian clicked his tongue. “Jason isn’t going back to normal, is he?”

The words nearly caught in his throat, but he got past it. “No. Jason’s staying like this.”

Damian stared down at his feet as they walked. Bruce waited for him to speak. When his son did look up, there was something like a smirk on his fact. “I’m no longer the youngest. Excellent.”

Then they walked out onto the patio and Damian spotted Jason tugging on Titus’ ears.

“Get your sticky little hands off my dog, you cretin!”

***

Damian and Jason’s bickering ceased the moment that Clark descended from the sky, his son on one side and Bizarro on the other.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Quite the entrance.”

“Quite the audience,” Clark replied, eyeing the people swarming Bizarro. Jason was already being lifted and set on Bizarro’s shoulders. He wrapped his arms around Bizarro’s head and sobbed his eyes out. Artemis appeared on the patio and nodded to her teammate. Bizarro grinned and waved back. “S.T.A.R labs got the breakthrough earlier today. We had a few records left over from—from before.”

Bruce nodded, didn’t bring up the circumstances of ‘before’. He knew all too well what it was like.

“Bizarro was well looked after,” Clark continued, cheerfully. “He even had some dedicated Teen Titan bodyguards, though I think I wasn’t supposed to notice those.”

Bruce glanced at Damian, who refused to meet his eyes and grabbed Jon Kent by the wrist, tugging him over towards Bizarro.

“We haven’t really had a chance to speak properly,” Clark said, and Bruce narrowed his eyes because he sounded far too amused. “How’s life as a grandfather treating you?”

“I have kryptonite in the house,” Bruce replied. “Do not start with me.”

Clark laughed. “Was it more or less weird that time Lois and I got thrown into an alternate dimension and came back with a ten year old?”

“Less.” Bruce snorted. “It wasn’t even original. Wally West did it first and he had twins.”

“Seriously, though, is everything working out okay?” Clark asked. “I know it’s been hard for you.”

“Jason’s safe,” Bruce replied. “I’m going to hire a team of bodyguards to keep it that way, but he’s safe.”

“You could just hire Bizarro.”

“…Hn.”

“Oh my God, you’re actually considering it.”

Bruce shrugged. It wasn’t a bad idea at all. It wasn’t like Jason was going to be pried away from either of his teammates at this point. It was as good a cover as any for Bizarro’s presence in their lives.

Over by Bizarro, Jon Kent had just set fire to one of the bushes that lined the patio. Clark hurried off towards him, giving Alfred an apologetic look on his way there. “Sorry, Alfred!”

“If you think that’s the first child to set something on fire on this property, you’re very naive,” Alfred replied. “At least the bush is outside.”

Bruce’s eldest took the opportunity to come over and stand at his shoulder.

“I could hear you plotting,” Dick said.

“I’m not plotting.”

“You have your plotting face on,” Dick said. He leaned his shoulder against Bruce’s. He was smiling freely, the weight gone from his shoulders now that Jason’s life was no longer in jeopardy. “I wanted to talk to you. Clear the air.”

“You were right,” Bruce said. “Not entirely, but more than I was.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Dick said easily, laughing and letting Bruce grab him in a headlock and knuckle his scalp. “Okay, okay, let me go. I wanted to talk seriously.”

“I have maybe half a conversation in me,” Bruce replied. “Then I’m going back to grunts. Make the most of it.”

“You always make jokes when I’m the only one around,” Dick said. “No one ever believes me.”

Bruce loosened his grip, letting Dick straighten up. He kept his arm around his son’s shoulders and Dick didn’t shrug him off. It was always such a relief to be on good terms with Dick. Recent years had been better between them, but the tension lingered. They hadn’t so much as dealt with their issues as deliberately set them aside.

“About the cover story,” Dick said. “I know it’s a bit late but…are you sure? I know you approved of all the contingencies at the time but you were so convinced we wouldn’t need them. It’ll be a mess but we can—”

“No.” Bruce shook his head. He kept his eyes on Jason, watching as he reunited with his teammates. “It’s better this way.” He glanced at Dick. “But you were ambushed with the situation, if this is because you’re not comfortable with the role…”

Dick rolled his eyes. “That’s got nothing to do with it. All my oldest friends became parents before twenty-five, they had a pool going to see when I’d join them. Roy and Garth had a debate about whether Damian counted.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Did he?”

“No,” Dick replied. “Siblings were outlawed after someone tried to claim that Gar counted for Vic to win two grand and the rules got tightened up.”

“They’re not even siblings,” Bruce said, puzzled.

“I fiddled with some records in a database somewhere,” Dick said, shrugging. “I’m not proud of it.”

“Hn.”

“Okay, I am.” Dick laughed. “I put them back after, I promise.”

They lapsed into silence. Jason had been set on the ground and was accosting Tim, who had the put-upon expression of one who was not used to the exuberances of small children.

Dick knocked their shoulders together. “But seriously, Bruce…it’s Jason.”

“That’s why it needs to be this way,” Bruce replied. “Too much has happened between us. It wouldn’t be fair on him.”

“You’ve still not accepted it, have you?”

“He’s not changing back.” Bruce swallowed, closing his eyes. The temptation was still there, but he shut it away. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to forget what’s been lost. He’s alive, but his life, the progress we managed to make—I’ll miss my son. He’s not going to be the same.”

“He’ll remember one day,” Dick said. “But I get it. He’s not ever going to be the same Jason. I’m sorry, Bruce.”

“It’s no one’s fault. At least I know that a part of him wants this.” Jason was giggling, egging on a wrestling match that had somehow begun between Cass and Tim. Cass was winning. “So much was stolen from him the first time around, if anyone deserves a second chance, it’s Jason.”

And as much as he wanted Jason to eventually recover his memories, Bruce hoped with all his heart that he never remembered the worst of it.

***

It was almost Jason’s reading time, and Bruce had managed to win approval to replace Cass as his reading buddy. Jason had taken to reading with Cass with great aplomb. It was very good for the both of them, even if Jason was treating the whole thing like a military operation and believed that Cass would fall behind if someone else took her place.  

“Which book do you want?”

Jason pursed his lips, staring up at his shelves. He’d refused to continue the book he was in the middle of with Cass—The Lightning Thief—and so they were forced to go through the somewhat arduous process of Jason picking a new book. He was perhaps overly concerned with making the ‘right’ choice, but Bruce didn’t rush him.

“Okay,” Jason said, leaning up and pulling one of the books off the shelf and running over to Bruce and climbing into his lap. Bruce let him get settled, absently rocking the old chair that had been dragged into the room from the nursery at some point. It might have been someone’s attempt at a joke, but it had been helpful when settling Jason after his nightmares and had stayed. It had become Jason’s preferred reading chair. “I got Oliver Twist.”

“It’s a good book,” Bruce said, pressing his lips against the crown of Jason’s head. He could remember reading it with Jason when he’d been twelve. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Jason frowned, tilting his head back to met Bruce’s eyes. “Bruce, we are supposed to be reading now.”

The words were familiar in a way that made his heart pang. “I promise we’ll read longer to make up for it, okay?”

Jason pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “Okay, but for every minute you spend talking I want two extra minutes for reading.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but I accept.” Bruce swallowed. “Jay, I know we haven’t talked much about your…situation. That’s my fault. Has Dick talked to you yet, about Zatanna’s visit today?”

Jason chewed on his lip. “Uh-huh. The magic went away. No one can turn me back now.”

“That’s right.” Bruce’s stomach twisted. “Dick told me that you…did not want to return to normal. I need you to understand that if you change your mind, you should tell us, Jason. No matter what Zatanna says, I would find a way if you needed me to.”

Scowling, Jason turned away, tugging the book out of Bruce’s hands and opening it. “I won’t change my mind.”

“I know, I just needed you to know that.” For a moment, Bruce just watched as Jason made himself comfortable with the book, refusing to look back at him now he considered the matter closed. He spent the time gathering the courage for his most important question. “Are you happy, Jason?”

Jason’s gaze snapped up to him, the frown on his face so familiar it was startling. He opened his mouth and Bruce could guess the comment before he said it—‘I would be if you’d let me read’ perhaps, or some variation. Jason paused, though, cocking his head to the side and regarding Bruce for a moment in thought. “Yes,” he said finally. “Not always, but it’s better than before.”

All too often this boy made him want to cry. It had been a long time since it was for anything but grief. There was still grief, but there was a relief that flooded his chest that constricted his heart. Bruce took a shaky breath and persevered. He was not finished yet. “I wanted to apologize.”

Jason blinked. “For what?”

“I haven’t been very kind or fair to you,” Bruce said. “I’ve hurt you.”

Jason’s fingers made their way to his mouth and he started to chew on them. Bruce rubbed the boy’s back but didn’t try to make him stop. They would have to break that habit at some point, but now was not the right time. Finally, Jason pulled his fingers out of his mouth and pointed accusingly at Bruce. “You don’t think I’m real.”

“I was wrong,” Bruce replied. “That’s why Dick yelled at me.”

Jason nodded. “Everyone should yell at you when you’re stupid.” He gave a haughty little sniff that Bruce swore he’d picked up from Damian. “Which is a lot. You’re very stupid for someone so old.”

“I am.” Bruce smiled, kissing Jason’s forehead. “I’m very sorry, Jason.”

“I’ll forgive you,” Jason said. “But only because Dick already yelled at you and he’s scarier than you are when he’s mad.”

“That he is.” It was perhaps the first time he’d ever come second to Dick in that respect, but Jason was the boy who’d hit him with a tire iron on first meeting. He clearly had a different set of standards than most people.

“And—” Jason pointed his finger in Bruce’s face, close enough his eyes crossed trying to focus on it “—if you’re ever mean to me again, you have to get a tattoo of a donkey on your face, because you’re an ass.”

Bruce had to stare off towards the window for a few moments in order to collect himself. “Language, Jason.”

“And!” Jason wriggled, enthused with his new game. “You’re not allowed to tell me what to do anymore.”

Oh boy. “I think that’s Dick’s job now, but I’m not going to let you get away with everything, Jason.”

Jason smirked. “Why not? That’s what grandfathers are for.” And then he started to giggle and nearly rolled off Bruce’s lap, pointing at the face Bruce made at that particular word.

“Jason…”

“How much will you pay me to not call you that in public?” Jason asked, letting Bruce lift him up and settle him back in his lap. The book he had to rescue from the floor, discarded in Jason’s glee. Apparently teasing Bruce for being a grandfather rated even above his normal care for his books.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“No,” Jason said, frowning. “It’s extortion.”

“Oh, is that what it is.” Bruce sighed, reaching out to tweak Jason’s nose. “It’s a good thing it’s Dick’s job to keep up with you. I’m getting too old.”

“That’s understandable,” Jason said, patting him on the arm consolingly. “You’re a grandfather now.”

“And you’re a menace.”

Jason practically preened.

“Is tuition for Princeton enough to buy my way out of it?”

“No, it was a limited time offer.”

“It’s been less than a minute, Jay.”

“It was very, very limited.” Jason wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck and leaned up, kissing his cheek. “I’ll take the money for Princeton though.”

Bruce held Jason close, pressed a kiss against his temple, and smiled helplessly. “I love you, Jay.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

The problem, really, with having Richard back in Gotham for so long and now Father’s aunt scrutinizing the family was that apparently keeping up appearances in civilian life was important.

“School,” Damian said, drawing the word out slowly, making sure the correct amount of skepticism was infused to convey his contempt of the idea.

“School!” Jason jumped around, clapping his hands together. “I want to go now.”

“You’re enrolled for next semester,” Richard replied, face carefully neutral in a way that Damian knew meant he was amused. “Both of you.”

“I’m perfectly fine with how things are.” Damian crossed his arms and glared. “I have other commitments.”

“Right, your Titans team,” Richard replied, and Damian could hear the disapproval. His brother had made his opinion on Damian’s frequent absences from Gotham very clear. “I hear that’s going…well.”

Damian bristled. He certainly hadn’t divulged any information, which meant only one thing. “What happened to team loyalty?”

“They are loyal,” Richard said. “To me.”

A miscalculation had been made somewhere, but Damian was loathe to admit it was by him.

“They are more mutinous than I expected.” Damian frowned. “How often do you receive intel?”

“You really thought you could form a team with Kory and she wouldn’t give me updates?” Richard smiled. “Daily.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were on such good terms.” A mistake on his part, in his rush to establish himself outside of the family. He’d chosen certain members of his new team with an eye for validating their authenticity. “I had thought, considering her time with Jason—”

“—What?” Jason looked over from the pile of Legos he’d started digging around in.

“Not you.” Technically. Damian licked his lips and pushed the thought away. The topic of Jason’s…past had become even less palatable since the spell had been removed. There was a sense of grief, but there was no funeral and little closure to be found. Jason was alive, even his memories might be recoverable, but…not everything was.   

Jason shrugged and went back to his toys.

Richard flashed his teeth in a sharp smile. “She gave me updates on him too.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Did he know?”

“What do you think?” Richard stretched his arms over his head and sighed, and then crouched down next to Jason and ruffled his hair. “Hey, Jay. Bath.”

“I’m busy.” Jason looked down at his sticky hands like they had betrayed him and then handed some of his Lego pieces to Richard. “I’m constructing next generation gremlin traps.”

“You really need to leave poor Tim alone.”

“No,” Jason said, after a moment of thought. “No, I do not. Last time he thwarted my traps he said I should do better next time. That’s an invitation.”

Richard snorted, slipping his hands under Jason’s arms and lifting him to his feet. “Well it’s bath time so come on. You show up to lunch like that and Alfred will not be impressed.”

“Where’s Arty?”

“She’s with Biz,” Richard said. “They’ll be back later tonight, remember?”

“Arty wouldn’t make me bath,” Jason muttered, but sulkily stomped off. Despite their previous conflicts Richard and Artemis were now a united front, and Jason knew it. Pitting them against each other tended to fail. Badly.

“I will think about what we discussed,” Damian said as Richard moved to follow Jason from the room.

His brother paused in the doorway, looking back. “The school thing is up to Bruce, but it would be good for Jason to have you around.”

“Using him against me will not get you anywhere.” It was a weak protest. On the whole, Damian found being an older sibling far preferable to being the younger. He was reluctant to shirk his duties. It was a matter of pride that he remain favored over Drake. The gap left behind by Jason’s previous role in the family was still being awkwardly navigated around, even as the younger one settled in with ease.

He was still pondering the idea of school—returning to Gotham Academy on a more permanent basis—as he returned to his room. One of Jason’s stuffed toys was on his bed, left behind from one of the boy’s visits. Also on the bed was Jon Kent, much less welcome.

Jon held the stuffed dog up. “This is cute.”

“It’s my nephew’s,” Damian replied, snatching it away because it was Jason’s favorite toy and Superman would be mad if Damian had to kill his son if he damaged it and made Jason cry.

Jon was technically authorized to know Jason’s true identity, but he was a blabber mouth so it was best that Damian reinforce the cover story. Besides, having a nephew made Damian appear older and gave him more authority where Jason was concerned.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Damian asked, stalking over to his desk to put the stuffed toy somewhere it would be safe in the meantime. Jason would cry when he’d realized he’d lost it, but Jason cried at the drop of a hat. Damian was learning to tell when to tune it out and when it was real distress. The dog would prompt tears of frustration, which would be as good a reminder as any that he should return the toy. He dropped it on the empty stand his Red Hood toy usually occupied and turned to glare at Jon. “Well?”

“I wanted to see Biz,” Jon said, swinging his legs back and forth over the side of Damian’s bed. “But he’s not back yet.”

Damian heard the words, but his mind was in the process of rewinding as something important occurred to him. He turned around slowly and stared at his desk and the stuffed toy that was sitting on the stand where his Red Hood toy was supposed to be . “Did you touch my Red Hood toy?”

“No?” Jon hopped off the bed and came to stand at his side. “Why would I do that? You go crazy when someone even looks at it.”

Very slowly, Damian picked up the stuffed dog and narrowed his eyes. Had it been left behind in childish error, or was it the calling card of a budding criminal mastermind?

Jon took a step back, eyes widening. “Are you smiling?”

“No,” Damian replied, attempting to control his face. Was this what hope felt like? “Come, Jon. We’re going to retrieve my Red Hood toy from the clutches of my little brother.”

“A minute ago he was your nephew,” Jon said.

“He’s both,” Damian replied, tucking the stuffed dog under his arm and leading the way out of his room.

Jon sighed. “Your family is so weird.”

***

There were some less pleasant aspects of being an older sibling. Damian found himself—and Jon by proxy—roped into babysitting and with no means of escaping. He was old enough to be responsible for Jason, apparently, but not old enough in general. Aunt Agatha had begun plans for some summer event and of course Damian was deemed too young to be interested or useful and so had been banished to watch over Jason.

Still, it had given him the opportunity to mull things over, and social events were both tedious and contained far too much pandering to a bunch of people he decidedly did not like.

“I have an announcement.”

If only his audience were more enthralled.

Damian frowned. “Jon, pay attention.”

“We’re at a very delicate stage,” Jon said from his place on the floor next to Jason, assisting him with whatever new contraption he was making to snare Drake unawares. Damian approved of Jason’s obsession on principle and in practice but Jon was sadly unable to multitask with any success. Jon snapped two pieces of Lego together and then looked up with a grin. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I’ve decided to disband the Titans.”

“You can’t do that,” Jason said, around the ear of his dog toy that he had shoved in his mouth. Damian had scoured the room earlier and not located his Red Hood toy. He’d carefully not let on that he was aware it was gone. “The Titans are Dick’s.”

Yes, they were, as he had become only all too aware.

“I had my own team,” Damian replied. “But no more. They are ultimately unsuitable for my purposes.”

“You still sound like a supervillain,” Jason said.

“Your face is a supervillain,” Damian said, on reflex, and then froze, utterly horrified, while Jason laughed in delight. Jon was snickering behind his arm and so Damian spun on his heel, snatching his phone out of his pocket and typing out a short, brusque message to his failed team, summarily disbanding them.

They would merge with the New York Titans within the week, he assumed, under the direct control of Richard once again.

No matter. Damian had superior plans. He turned back to Jon and his brother.

“Jon, we need to recruit members for our new team.”

Jon blinked. “Our new team?”

“Yes.” Damian nodded, convinced he had made the correct decision. “I was aiming too low—just another legacy of Richard’s. I can’t remain in his shadow forever. We’re going to establish a better team than the Titans, Jon. And we’re going to start right now.”

“Uh,” Jon said. “Is your brother coming, then?”

Damian considered the question. Richard would kill him if they took Jason and disappeared. On the other hand, if they left him, Jason would go running straight to Richard and their plan would be thwarted. Now that Damian had decided on a course of action he did not want any further delays.

The door creaked open and Bizarro looked into the room and waved. “We am back.”

“Biz!” Jason scrambled to his feet and ran towards his former teammate, getting swept up into a hug. “Guess what Damian is doing, Biz!”

Damian pursed his lips. Not a single ounce of discretion in that child. He was going to have to fix that. Surely it wouldn’t be too hard, Jason had been capable enough before. He’d made a fine accomplice back then, surely he could be re-taught.

“Do you want to come with us on an adventure?” Jon asked hopefully. He’d become somewhat fixated on bonding with his ‘uncle’ and took every opportunity available to him. Bizarro tolerated him well, as he did all children, although none could come close to Jason, who had the Kryptonian at his beck and call.

Bizarro let Jason climb up onto his shoulders and settle there. “Adventure?”

Technically, Bizarro would count as an adult.

“Yes,” Damian said. “We’re going to recruit members for our new team. You should join us.”

He thought perhaps the scheme would fail, but then Jason leaned down and nodded enthusiastically, and Bizarro capitulated to his will.

Jon grinned and punched Damian in the arm, hard enough to hurt. Damian glared back.

Compared to Bizarro, his own Kryptonian was lacking.

***

With Jon and Bizarro cross country became quite literal, and within the next hour they had approached and presented their proposal to several key potential candidates. Others were harder to track down on short notice. But along with a variety of answers (’sure’, ‘uh…why not?’ and ‘I guess’ among them), several flaws in Damian’s plan had been uncovered.

Such as where, exactly, the team would be headquartered.

“Not Gotham,” Damian said, loudly to be heard over the wind as Bizarro flew them through the air. “No independence could be gained there.”

“Let’s go to Australia!” Jon, of course, was only full of useless suggestions.

They were scouting potential locations in the Midwest when the next oversight in Damian’s plan became obvious; one he should have been prepared for and considered more seriously before taking off.

Father was extremely overprotective, particularly of Jason, and Richard was little better after the Circe incident.

They were over a hill that Jon was convinced they could hollow out and turn into a hideout when Damian’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. A glance at the screen revealed Richard was the caller, and Damian immediately began to reconsider the wiseness of his plan.

He stared at the phone, which suddenly looked ominous to his eyes.

The ringing stopped. Then, a second later, the phone buzzed with a new text message from his brother.

Pick up. Now.

The phone rang again. Damian answered immediately.

“Turn around and get your ass back here,” Richard said, less friendly than a rattlesnake and twice as deadly. “Right. Now.”

He barely had time to open his mouth before Richard hung up.

His brother clearly expected that he would be obeyed.

“Me am take small ones home,” Bizarro said, and that was the end of that, Damian supposed.

Jon attempted to abandon them over Pennsylvania, but Bizarro grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tugged him along. Once they were flying over Bristol, the manor and its grounds in view, Damian understood the expression of dread on Jon’s face.

Superman was standing on the patio next to Richard and Father, arms folded and frowning up at them.

“And what do you have to say for yourselves?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Damian chanced a glance at Father, who looked so serene Damian knew he’d gone straight through apoplectic and out the other side, and Richard, who looked like he was beyond words and only capable of incoherent rage.

He straightened his shoulders. As leader, it was his job to take responsibility. “We neglected to inform anyone we were leaving in our excitement, and for that I apologize. However, I want to make it clear that we didn’t go off alone. We had an adult with us; Bizarro counts.”

Father raised an eyebrow. “Bizarro is eight months old.”

“He was merely alternatively aged, Father, please don’t be small-minded.”

In for a penny.

Father’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline, the only change in expression he made. Damian had the distinct impression that he was thoroughly unimpressed.

On top of Bizarro’s shoulders, Jason giggled. He clearly believed that absolutely zero percent of the blame would fall on his small shoulders and was delighting in it.

Richard beckoned him down with two fingers. “That’s enough from you, Jason. You know you’re not supposed to run off.”

Jason scowled as Bizarro set him down. He trudged over to Richard and pouted up at him. “Damian and Biz were there.”

“Uh-uh.” Richard crouched down and raised an eyebrow. “And which three people can give you permission for things like this again?”

“I forget,” Jason replied, shoving his fingers in his mouth and looking away. Richard tugged the fingers straight back out again.

Jon took a deep breath and then smiled winsomely at his father. “If Bizarro is a clone of you, doesn’t that mean he is also my dad, and therefore, he can give me permission for things?”

Superman stared down at him. “No.”

Jon visibly faltered. “Oh, well, that wasn’t very clear when I was making my decisions.”

Damian had the very real urge to put his head in his hands. This was the teammate he had tentatively decided to make his second in command? He’d have better luck with Jason.

Jason spun around, back to Richard, and raised his nose in the air. “Well, I don’t have to do what any of you tell me to!”

“Wrong,” Richard replied, gently taking Jason by the shoulders and turning him around. “As far as the law is concerned, I’m your father.”

Jason scowled. Damian could see him digging his heels in. “Prove it.”

“Prove it?”

“Documentation.” Jason folded his arms and nodded. “If you can’t produce proof then I’m not saying anything else until my lawyer gets here.”

Superman’s lips quirked, and he glanced at Father. “Lawyer? That one is definitely one of yours.”

Damian swore that Father’s lips twitched. Damian remained silent and hoped that Jason’s bemusing charm would get them out of the mess they were in. Small, adorable little brothers had to be useful for something.

“Yes,” Jason said, with a firm nod. “Arty is my lawyer.”

Richard licked his lips, visibly attempting to maintain his sternness in the face of Jason’s utter ridiculousness. “That’s not going to go well for you, Jay.”

Jason shook his head, adamant. “She loves me. She will duel for my freedom.”

Jon perked up. “That sounds cool, I choose Artemis to be my lawyer too.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Foolish. She won’t duel for anything, Jason. She’s your mother, now. She’s on their side.”

She was also nowhere in sight, which was foreboding. Perhaps she was planning to wait until the other three adults left and then slaughter him and Jon for daring to steal her little one away.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Artemis chose that moment to storm out of the manor, pointing at Bizarro. “Bizarro! We need to have words.”

Bizarro looked suddenly hunted, ducking his head down.

Jason’s eyes widened and, looking between Artemis’ glower and Richard, clearly decided on the lesser of two evils and dove into Richard’s arms. “I changed my mind. I’ll believe you.”

“That reminds me,” Superman said, looking down at Jon. “You didn’t tell your mother that you were leaving, Jon. She’s very worried.”

Jon’s eyes went wide and scared. “Oh, no.”

Damian supposed there were moments to be thankful for estrangement from one’s morally dubious mother. He didn’t have anything to worry about.

Father’s hand fell on his shoulder. “Inside. We need to talk.”

Drat.

***

Being grounded might have been a minor inconvenience, considering Damian had just disbanded his team and had no real reasons to wish to leave the property, but that was before Father specified that he was also grounded from Robin. Truly, the world was an unjust place.

Jason only had his Lego taken away, but to look at the child you’d think his entire world and all his happiness had been stolen. He sprawled around the manor like a particularly dramatic and wounded puppy. Then he zeroed in on the weakest link.

“Bruce,” he said, tugging on Father’s arm. “Dick is so mean.”

For a moment, Father seemed thrown, but then he gathered Jason up and while the Legos were not returned, he did spent the next hour with Jason on his lap and reading to him, so in the end what punishment had the boy really endured?

When patrol time rolled around Damian stormed off to his room, making sure to close the door behind him loudly enough to make his displeasure clear, but not loud enough that he could reasonably be told off for it. After a moment of glaring at the floor he snatched his sketchpad off his desk and flicked through it until he found a clear page.

The Titans teams had always operated out of their towers, but now that Damian was not restricted, he could design a more optimal headquarters…

The task absorbed him and he barely noticed the time pass. He was only jolted out of his work when his doorknob rattled and Jason spilled into the room, closing the door quietly behind him and holding a finger to his lips, wide-eyed.

“Who is supposed to be watching you?”

“Aunt Agatha made me have tea with her,” Jason said, making a face. He sucked his lip into his mouth and chewed on it for a moment. “The cookies were okay though.”

Damian sighed. “That doesn’t answer my question.” He set his sketchpad aside and got up, deciding that if Jason wouldn’t be forthcoming then he’d just pick him up and carry him off to the nearest adult.

“Damian,” Jason said, with a faint whine. He pouted up at him. “Help me rescue my Lego.”

“That is a terrible idea,” Damian replied.

“If you help me get my Lego,” Jason said, “I will tell you where your toy is.”

Damian scowled. “I do not need your assistance.”

Jason sniffed. “Well, you’re very slow at getting it back.”

“Go back to where you’re supposed to be. Richard is mad enough without courting his ire,” Damian said, willing himself to ignore the insult. He’d been distracted and not put any effort into retrieving his Red Hood toy. Jason was an annoying little cretin who needed to learn respect for his elders.

“I’m going to chuck your toy in a pond,” Jason said, and scampered out of the room.

Damian rolled his eyes and went to shut his door, but right before it closed he spotted Jason, hurtling out of his room and fleeing down the hall, a distinctive toy clutched aloft in his hands.

“Get back here!”

The only reason Damian didn’t catch Jason immediately was the fear of harming his small, fragile little body. Jason’s mind had retained enough subconscious memories to make him more dangerous than a normal child, but his body was untrained and delicate. Damian stayed back as he raced after him down the stairs and committed to catching up before Jason could make it to the kitchen and out the back of the property.

Ahead, Jason skidded to a halt as the study door opened and Richard came out. Damian caught up, snatching the toy away and avoiding his older brother’s eyes. He’d forgotten that Richard’s patrol schedule was more sporadic to accommodate Jason’s needs.

“I want my Lego back!” Jason yelled, stomping his foot.

“It’s bedtime, Jason.” Richard raised an eyebrow at the Red Hood toy and took Jason by the shoulders, turning him around and nudging him towards the staircase. “Upstairs, come on.”

Jason shook his head, legs folding under him as he sat in the middle of the hall and crossed his arms, raising his chin in the air defiantly. “I want to negotiate a later bedtime.”

“Once you can get through the night without waking, we’ll talk,” Richard replied.

Jason’s nightmares were much less severe but his sleep schedule was still mostly made up of naps and an occasionally grumpy, irritable child.

“I don’t need much sleep,” Jason said, like he didn’t turn into a miserable mess of tears and screaming if he was so much as half an hour off the schedule they had him on.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Touch my toy again, cretin, and I’ll hang you from a tree by your toes.”

“That sounds fun,” Jason said, not bothering to try escape when Richard bent down and picked him up. Instead, he yawned and patted Richard on the cheek. “Lego, please.”

“Sleep, now,” Richard replied. He frowned at Damian. “You as well, you look tired.”

Parenthood made people stupid, Damian was never doing it.

“I’m going to take Titus for a walk on the grounds,” Damian said.

“Noooo,” Jason said with a whine, reaching over Richard’s shoulder towards him. “Come read with me, Damian.”

Richard shook his head, smiling. “You’re sleeping, Jay.”

Jason shook his head, shoving one of his hands over Richard’s mouth. He stared at Damian with pleading eyes. “Damian, if you come read with me I promise I won’t steal your toy again.”

Damian sniffed. “How long will that promise last?”

Richard laughed, prying Jason’s hand away from his mouth. “About a day.”

“That’s not true,” Jason said. “I keep all my promises.”

“Really? Because yesterday you promised to stop waking me up so early and yet—” Richard poked Jason on the nose, making the boy giggle “—guess who still woke me up at six this morning?”

“I really, really needed to speak to you,” Jason said. “It was very important.”

“You wanted to tell me that Rockruff was your new favorite Pokemon.”

Jason nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Spoiled,” Damian said, but still found himself trailing in Richard’s wake as he carried Jason off to bed. It was just to avoid a tantrum, he told himself. Once Richard had Jason distracted he could slip away unnoticed and they could all avoid having their ears assaulted.

It was a good justification and a solid plan, and yet somehow Damian still found himself on Jason’s bed, the child tucked in and listening avidly as he read him a short bedtime story, while Richard sat on the edge of the bed and watched with a soft expression.

He wasn’t going soft. It was just hard to deny pleading eyes when the faint remnants of guilt still tugged on his heart. No one had said anything about it, but Damian wasn’t stupid. He’d figured it out soon enough. Mother had not reached Jason until after Circe had removed the spell. If she had actually managed to take him and throw him in the Lazarus Pit, Damian would have been an accomplice to his brother’s murder.

The Lazarus Pit might heal the sick and prolong life, but perfectly healthy people who were submerged in the waters were typically killed outright. His grandfather’s legacy was not one to use lightly.

***

By the next morning, Damian was resolved. The fact of the matter was that he had been complacent. Grounding? His reputation was taking a hit and Damian had to strike back. Richard could be excused, he was in the throes of new parenthood and going overboard. Damian could understand and accept him extending his behavior from Jason to him. It was to be expected, as Richard had somewhat fulfilled the role while Father had been presumed dead, even if Damian, unlike Jason, had no need for such hands on parenting.

But Father? No, Father should know better.

Father had allowed him to form his team, allowed him to practically live on his own in San Francisco, and now that Jason was small again, suddenly Damian was being treated like a child? Like he could be grounded for minor offenses?

Attempting a mature and reasonable discussion had not achieved anything.

“I made mistakes with you,” Father said. “I’m sorry for that, Damian. I’m going to do better from now on.”

“Before was fine,” Damian replied. “I am not as young as Jason or as helpless. I am beyond such treatment!”

But Father had only looked at him like he was a small child who didn’t understand, so Damian had been forced to remove himself from the room lest he prove him right by saying something foul in anger.

Damian wasn’t going to give up, but in the meantime he’d decided that the opportunity had arisen to get some petty revenge.

“Jason,” Damian said, entering his brother’s bedroom and finding him sitting on the floor coloring. A normal child might draw puppies and rainbows, but Jason was just as likely to draw complex diagrams and plans for his preparations for ‘the coming gremlin invasion’. Incomprehensible logic aside, inconveniencing Drake made Jason happy, amused Damian, and Richard had yet to put serious effort into stopping it ever since Drake had made it known he mostly found it funny and got his revenge by teasing Jason on an increasingly frequent basis. Damian assumed that it was becoming some bizarre form of bonding.

Jason had his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth, and glanced up once he finished drawing some large arrows on one corner of his newest plan of attack. “I didn’t steal your stupid toy.”

Richard had scolded him that morning when Jason had attempted to steal it again. It had been just and fair of him, even if Damian could take care of himself, but Jason had holed up in his room afterward, sulking and convinced Richard was mean and terrible and didn’t love him. Even after Richard had managed to get inside Jason’s room (through the window, as Jason had blocked the door) and cuddled the little monster sufficiently to reassure him, Jason had remained locked away in self-imposed exile.

“I’m not here about the toy.” Damian sat down next to Jason, rolling his eyes when the child immediately climbed into his lap. “I have a proposition for you.”

Jason screwed his nose up. “No. You got me in trouble yesterday.”

“That was not my—” Damian cut himself off and pursed his lips, tilting his head to concede the point. Jason was younger and Damian had been in charge. Logic followed that any consequences rested on Damian’s shoulders, even if Jason had rules from higher authorities. Split loyalties were a complex thing for one of his age. “I’m not here to get you in trouble. I merely require a…distraction.”

“I’m very good at those,” Jason replied, perking up. “I’ll get the knives.”

“No knives.” Damian shook his head and smirked. “It’s much better than that.”

For the first time in hours, Jason smiled.

***

It was only Damian and Father in the den when Jason made his move, shuffling into the room with his soft toy in his arms, one ear in his mouth and getting chewed on. The child was more canny than Damian had anticipated.

“Bruce?” Jason asked, approaching the armchair that Father was reading in.

Father’s face softened when he looked at him. “Yes, Jay?”

Jason stared at him for a moment, then let the ear of his toy slip out of his mouth. “If you really love me, you’ll watch Pokemon with me.”

Damian kept his gaze forcefully on the sketchpad in his lap. He’d have to work with Jason on his subtlety.

“Now?” Father asked, with that vaguely confused tone he got when Jason did something particularly cute or baffling. Both at once was enough to send him reeling. A formidable weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian watched as Jason moved closer to his prey.

“Every weekend,” Jason said, holding his arms out so Father would lift him into his lap. Once there, he cuddled under Father’s chin and Damian knew they’d secured victory. “I want to watch all of them with you.”

“I—” Father blinked down at him “—of course, Jason.”

Damian smirked.

Father had no idea what kind of hell he was in for. Damian had done research before presenting his proposal to Jason.

He’d only made it through two episodes.

Father was going to hate it.

***

Damian might have been grounded, but nothing could keep him out of the Cave completely. Not any day, but especially not that day. He sat behind the computer, prepared to offer his operational support for the evening. He might have retired early out of sheer offense for his punishment, but he didn’t want to miss Father inform the others of his new weekend routine with Jason.

The reaction did not disappoint.

“You and Jason,” Duke said, lips twitching, “are going to watch every episode of Pokemon?”

At least Duke was capable of words. Drake had started laughing immediately and had yet to stop.

Richard shook his head in disbelief. “Bruce, there’s like a thousand episodes.”

Father startled, looking back at Richard. “What? There isn’t a television series in the entire world that needs a thousand episodes.”

“No one said they were needed,” Richard replied wryly.

Drake finally ceased cackling, wiping at his eyes. “They’re still making more of them.”

“Man,” Stephanie said, from the comm audio that Damian had hooked up to ensure that Father received the most embarrassment. “Bruce is totally going to judge the hell out of Ash.”

Father looked exhausted already.

But even better than that, Damian had now engineered a guaranteed time and day where Father’s attention would be occupied, allowing Damian the time and lack of attention needed to further his plans.

Younger siblings were surprisingly useful, after all.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that usual for Steph to walk into Wayne manor and find it in the midst of chaos. It was just that normally the chaos was centered more around their night activities, not a crisis that involved Agatha Wayne, a society event and someone misreading the number of zeroes on a quantity of decorative birds.

“What am I even going to do with a hundred peacocks?” Agatha had her phone held to her ear while she paced in front of the staircase that dominated the entrance hall of the manor. Bruce was standing at the bottom of the stairs, likely waylaid by the newest crisis in Agatha’s quest to get to the Wayne Foundation back to her standards. Steph took great joy in how much he was obviously not enjoying the experience. “This is simply not acceptable.” Agatha turned to Bruce. “I was very specific in that I wanted ten of them. It’s not a difficult number to understand, surely.”

“I don’t know why you even want a single peacock,” Bruce replied, and then his gaze shifted, catching sight of Steph. She liked to think the look in his eyes was pleading, and that’s why she ignored him and slipped down to the den, on the hunt for Cass, the real reason she’d bothered to come to the manor while it was in the midst of such upheaval.

Steph knocked against the door frame before entering, grinning as Cass looked over and waved. Steph slid over the back of the couch and landed next to her. She raised her eyebrows when she caught sight of what was happening on the floor in front of the couch. “Uh, Tim. You know he’s—”

“—Yup.” Tim was sprawled out on his stomach in front of the television, propped up on his elbows, attention on the screen and the game he was playing. Jason sat beside him on the floor with a large box of Lego, and appeared to be building a tomb for Tim around him. Tim didn’t appear to mind. “He’s deploying the latest generation in gremlin traps, Steph. Very advanced. It’s an enclosure. A Timclosure, if you will.”

“Ugh.” Steph closed her eyes, shaking her head while both Cass and Jason giggled, because for some reason the entire family was obsessed with puns. She was pretty sure Bruce was just very good at hiding it and was as bad as the rest of them. “I can’t believe I used to date you.”

“Neither can I,” Tim replied, cheerfully enough.

Steph turned to Cass, brandishing the slim and decorative invitation that had prompted her visit. “Okay, but what is this?”

“If I suffer,” Cass said, poking her on the nose, “so do you.”

“I don’t own a single thing expensive enough or fancy enough to attend such an esteemed event.” Steph shook her head. “I’m not going.”

“Everyone is going,” Cass replied. “Jason is going.”

Jason made an unhappy noise. “I tried to get grounded instead but it didn’t work.”

“Betrayed by your own cuteness. Tough luck, little guy.”

“Attending is punishment enough,” Tim said. He rolled his shoulders, dislodging some of the Legos. “Oops. Looks like it needs to be a little higher there, Jason.”

“Stop trying to sabotage my traps,” Jason said, but he moved up to Tim’s shoulders and started stacking Legos higher.

“How are you going to secure them to the floor?” Steph asked, in an attempt to be helpful.

“This is just a prototype.” Jason stood up, climbing onto Tim’s still mostly exposed back so he could reach over his other shoulder and continue building the Lego walls higher. “But I’m not giving away my secrets. I know you’re a spy for the other side.”

Steph gave a dramatic gasp, clutching her hand to her chest. “I assure you, Jason. I am most definitely on your side.”

“You pinched my cheeks the other day,” Jason said, because like all children he remembered incidents via some strange priority system and held grudges over petty grievances, although actually that mostly just described Jason in general, really, who was Steph kidding. “And you used to kiss Tim. I think you caught gremlin.”

Steph had to bite her tongue on the first three things that came to mind, because none of them were appropriate for the seven year old Jason was, even if he’d have greatly appreciated them back when he was nineteen. Maybe she would write them down and when he got enough enough she’d recite them all. Perhaps his twenty first birthday party would be an appropriate venue.

“The fact that Jason’s going doesn’t change the fact that I have zero things to wear,” Steph said, turning back to Cass and the topic at hand. “I’m pretty sure your aunt will turn me away at the door, okay.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “We can go shopping. I’ll get the card.”

“Wait, no—”

Cass jumped to her feet and leaped over the couch, practically skipping out the door to go relieve Bruce of one of his credit cards. Steph slumped against the couch cushions and accepted defeat.

On the floor, Tim’s shoulders were shaking, and he seemed to be overcome with hysterics. Steph glared at him, throwing one of the loose cushions at his head. It bounced off and knocked over some Lego, which earned her a dirty look from Jason. Fortunately, he seemed distracted by Tim, nearly losing his balance as Tim laughed even harder.

“Stop that.” Jason heaved a great, long-suffering sigh. “Gremlins.”

Steph snorted, muffling her own laugh against her hand. “I have been thoroughly demoted.”

Jason shook his head at them, jumping off Tim and scampering out of the room.

Finally dropping the controller, Tim rolled over onto his back, wincing as he destroyed the last of the Lego structure. “Ow.”

“You baby.” Steph threw another cushion at him. This time Tim grabbed it out of the air and threw it back. “Things seem to be going okay between you two now.”

“I guess.” Tim sat up, grimacing and rolling his shoulder out. “It feels like cheating, sometimes. Things were still weird, before. Now it’s like that’s just gone and I get a free do-over or something. Feels almost wrong.”

“You weren’t dubbed the Gremlin just because he didn’t like your face, Timothy,” Steph replied, shrugging. "In the end, it's not really about us, Tim. We just have to deal with the fallout as best we can."

“Yeah, I know.” Tim sighed, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go make sure someone’s got an eye on him. Enjoy your dress shopping.”

Steph contemplated smothering herself with the nearest pillow. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”  

***

Summer meant an upswing in society events, fundraisers and, inevitably, polo matches. Normally this would have absolutely nothing to do with Steph, poor college student and Batgirl by night, but fate and Cass had conspired so she found herself in a long, flowing white dress that cost more than the monthly rent of her apartment, with her hair and makeup professionally done and roped into attending the Wayne Foundation’s Charity Summer Polo Event. Even the name of it set her teeth on edge, but apparently this was her life now.

The price she paid for being best friends with Bruce Wayne’s daughter.

“I hate everything about this,” she said, struggling to keep her posture perfect next to all the tall, leggy models and society women when all she really wanted to do was slouch her shoulders and hide somewhere. “Why did you make me come?”

“Suffer together as a family,” Cass said, nodding over to where Jason was being fussed over by a circle of cooing women. He backed himself into Dick’s legs and looked seconds from hiding behind him—that he’d even lasted this long was impressive. “His first time in public.”

Steph sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

Gotham media hadn’t quite let Jason’s existence go like they’d thought. Wayne Enterprise’s PR team had eventually tried to quietly release a statement verifying his identity, parentage and general existence, but the media had been like a dog with a bone and thought the idea of ‘Bruce Wayne: Grandfather’ was just as intriguing and amusing an idea as Steph did.

The final nail in the coffin of Jason’s obscurity had been Vicki Vale somehow managing to link Artemis to the Amazons, so now everyone believed that Richie Wayne had knocked up an Amazon.

Dick looked physically pained whenever it was brought up.

Cass linked her arm around Steph’s and started dragging her over towards Dick and Jason. The circle around them was dispersing, as crowds of rich people mingled and did whatever rich people did at polo matches.

Jason was pouting up at Dick, looking both miserable and adorable in his little white summer suit. Cass had filled her entire phone up with photos of him already. Jason scowled at her, turning his face against Dick’s side. “No more pictures!”

“Geez, Cass, you’ve given him a camera phobia,” Steph said, nudging Cass in the side.

“I am sorry.” Cass crouched, tugging Jason towards her and kissing him on the nose. Steph was sure she could hear cameras flashing in response. Cass wasn’t the only one obsessed with taking photos of Jason.

“How are you doing, Jay?” Steph asked.

“I get five dollars every time I call Dick ‘Dad’,” Jason said. He scowled. “Bruce wouldn’t pay up for ‘Grandpa’ though.”

Steph snorted. “No, I imagine he wouldn’t.”

Bruce had taken to the role with aplomb but the word looked like it might spark a mid-life crisis of some kind. Steph hoped it did, Jason was free enough with the word because he liked how Bruce could barely disguise the way he twitched.

There was loud laughter from a nearby table and Jason glanced over, freezing up.

“Aunt Agatha is coming,” Jason said, tugging at Dick’s sleeve. “Dick, Dick, take me to the horses I don’t want to meet more of her friends.”

Dick looked about as spooked by the idea as Jason did. He swept the kid up into his arms and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Cass and Steph at the mercy of Agatha Wayne.

The old woman arrived with two glasses of champagne in one hand, which she offered to Cass and Steph, while sipping at the glass she held in her other. “Run off, did they? Poor boys. Mark my words, girls, throw them to the wolves now and by the time Jason goes to school no one will care anymore.”

Cass straightened from her crouch, laughing. Steph took one of the wine glasses and prayed no photos ended up on the society pages for her mother to see. She hadn’t even taken a sip when Bruce appeared at her shoulder, plucking it out of her hand.

He gave his aunt a severe frown. “Aunt Agatha, they’re both underage.”

“It’s a glass of champagne, not a bottle of scotch,” Agatha replied blithely. “And we all know what you got up to at their age, don’t we?”

Bruce looked pained and set the glass of champagne back on the tray of a passing waiter. “The head of the committee wants to speak with you.”

“They’re just hopeless without me.” Agatha sighed, finishing her own glass and starting on the other. “How did you even manage to keep this running while I was gone, Bruce? It’ll take me months to get everything going smoothly again. It wasn’t this bad when I left for D.C. I have half a mind to move back, you know.”

“You’d be welcome back at the manor,” Bruce replied.

“No I wouldn’t.” Agatha snorted. “I’ve seen you dodging around me, young man, you aren’t that clever.”

“You’re my hero,” Steph said, clasping her hands together and ignoring Cass’ elbow in her side. “Please move back to Gotham.”

“The penthouse is free, isn’t it?” Agatha asked, winking at Steph and taking Bruce by the arm. “Since Richard’s back at the manor permanently to raise Jason now.”

“Yes,” Bruce replied. “You’re welcome to it, of course.”

Agatha dragged him off with a laugh, somehow managing to make pulling along a reluctant two hundred pound man look easy.

“I will go keep him company,” Cass said, hiking up the bottom of her dress slightly so she could move faster. “He’s been good lately.”

Bruce had been better than Steph had ever seen him. He was parenting Damian, spending actual quality time with all of his kids, and spoiling Jason rotten like it had finally occurred to him that being the grandpa meant he could make himself an easy favorite by never saying ‘no’ and piling the kid with sugar and returning him to Dick or Artemis and peacing out. He seemed content with the arrangement and Jason seemed to like it just as well.

Steph watched Cass hurry off after Bruce and Agatha before she swung around in place and looked around the grounds of the Wayne estate. She’d never seen it set up for polo before, but of course they had the space and the means to do it. She spotted Tim, lurking under a tree in the corner with some other boys.

“Timothy!” Steph called, walking over and grinning. “Introduce me to your friends.”

“Friends is a bit strong,” Tim said, scratching the back of his head. “This is George and Carter,” he said, pointing to them in turn.

“No last names? I’m shocked. I thought you would be able to recite their family trees back a few generations.”

George snorted, staring into the glass in his hand. “I’m not sober enough for that. I’ll get mixed up and give you a really incestuous impression of my family.”

Carter frowned. “George, weren’t your great-grandparents cousins?”

“Please don’t remind me,” George replied, knocking back his most definitely alcoholic drink.

“You should pace yourself,” Carter suggested, with one eyebrow raised. “It’s a little early in the afternoon, you know. At least let it get darker before we’re subjected to you streaking naked through the grounds chasing the horses.”

“That only happened one time, and it was a dare.”

“It wasn’t a dare,” Carter said. “I just told you that to make you feel better about your poor life choices.”

“You two seem fun.” Steph elbowed Tim in the side. “How do you know this stick in the mud?”

“I don’t remember a time without Timothy,” Carter said, staring thoughtfully up at the sky. “God, I wish I did.”

“Thanks, Carter,” Tim said dryly.

“Carter is a very bitter person,” George said to Steph, pulling a flask out of his jacket and offering it to her. When she shook her head he shrugged and tucked it away again. “Personally, I think it’s his fault that his father can’t keep a wife. How many are you up to now?”

“I’ve only driven away two of them.”

Behind them came the sound of a throat being cleared.

Steph looked over her shoulder to see Babs, arms folded and eyebrow raised.

“That would be our cue to leave.” Carter winked and fled, followed quickly by George, who waved over his shoulder as he went.

Steph shook her head, nudging Tim in the side as they turned to Babs. “Old friends?”

“I grew up in the same circles as they did,” Tim said.

“Say no more.”

Babs shook her head, focusing on Tim. “Tim, I bring a message from your brother. Stop lurking off in a corner. It’s being noticed and you bring shame on the family.”

“Wow,” Tim said. “Direct quote?”

“Damian is very unhappy that he’s having his cheeks pinched while you’re off drinking with your friends,” Babs replied, smiling wryly. “And if Damian’s noticed, Dick’s noticed and that means you have maybe two minutes before he extracts himself and comes over to be overbearing.”

Tim cringed. “Got it.”

Dick was already waiting when they got back. Steph spotted Damian and Jason off in the distance and made her way over to them, abandoning Tim to be chewed out by his big brother. Dick moving back to the manor had been an interesting experience for them all. They were used to Nightwing being a hardass, but Dick was generally warmer and more of an indulgent big brother. While Bruce and Dick were co-existing surprisingly well considering how recently they’d been in conflict, Dick as a permanent resident of the manor, in a firmly parental role for Jason and, to a lesser extent, Damian, had meant a certain amount of spillover to the rest of them.

One of the polo players was holding the reins of a horse and letting Damian lift Jason up to pet it gently on the nose. Around animals especially, Damian was proving to be a surprisingly caring and indulgent older brother.

“Damian,” Jason said quietly, as the horse was led away. “Let’s free the horses.”

“How about no way, little guy,” Steph said, coming up behind them.

Damian scowled at her, setting Jason on his feet. “I see you and Drake have finally rejoined polite society.”

“Is that a euphemism for something?” Steph asked, flicking him on the nose and laughing at his offended face. Damian was a lot more fun to tease now that he’d built up some tolerance to it. “Because it sounds like it should be.”

“Don’t be crass,” Damian replied. “I’m already aware that your taste is deeply, deeply flawed.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “Harsh, short-stuff. I know when I’m not wanted. Where’s Duke?”

“Behaving appropriately and not indulging in underage drinking,” Damian replied, and pointed off towards the catering tables. “He and Cassandra are getting lunch.”

“For the record, I indulged in nothing,” Steph said, taking the opportunity to ruffle Jason’s hair. It had been perfectly neat and combed all day and he had been miserable about it. The curls were cuter, anyway.

“I’m hungry,” Jason said, snatching Steph by the hand and swinging their joined arms back and forth as he accompanied her over to the table where Cass and Duke were sitting.

Cass grinned at them, gesturing Jason into the spot next to her.

Duke slid out of his seat. “I’ll go get some food for the little guy, you want anything, Steph?”

“I’ll come with,” Steph said, grinning when Duke offered her his arm and escorted her over to the buffet spread. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Uh, decidedly not,” Duke replied. “This is not what I’m used to and I’m glad of it.”

“Amen to that.” Steph grabbed a bit of everything for herself and picked out a few things to add to the plate that Duke was getting for Jason. The only good thing about attending these events was the food. Agatha Wayne went all out. Somewhere, Steph assumed, there were even peacocks roaming about.

Bruce and Kate were at the table when they returned, talking quietly while Jason sat in Bruce’s lap and played with his tie. Duke put Jason’s plate down in front of his empty seat and took his seat. Steph sat down on his other side, grinning at Cass.

“Auntie Kate,” Jason said, letting Bruce slide him back into his own seat so he could reach his plate. He narrowed his eyes at Kate. “How are you not burning up?”

Duke leaned over towards Steph, frowning. “I don’t get it,” he whispered, “does he not know what sunscreen is?”

Steph stifled a laugh behind her hand. “He thinks she’s a vampire.”

“Still?” Duke bit his lip, grinning.

“Yeah, Tim’s the one who told him she wasn’t,” Steph replied, shrugging. “So of course he doesn’t believe it.”

“We’re going to the beach next week,” Jason was saying to Kate. “I’m going to bury Tim in the sand and we’ll leave him there forever.”

“That’s not very nice,” Kate said, around her glass of wine. “Why would you do that?”

“He’s a gremlin,” Jason said, “and Dick is mad at him because he was drinking in the shrubbery and we do not condone underage drinking in this family.”

“Tim was what?” Bruce frowned, getting to his feet and striding off.

“I didn’t actually see Tim drink anything,” Steph said, watching Bruce’s retreating back. “Poor guy.”

“He is guilty by association,” Jason said, stabbing a piece of cheese with his fork and shoving it in his mouth. “Also, he laughed at my outfit today and deserves unspeakable pain.”

“Aw, I think your outfit is cute.” Steph ruffled his hair again.

“It’s awful,” Jason said, kicking his feet. “But we’re going to the beach so it’s okay.”

Steph was pretty sure some new Lego sets had also been on offer to gain Jason’s cooperation for the day.

And she had caught Agatha slipping him some cash that morning, so he was well and truly compensated for the ordeal.

“At least you’re getting something out of this,” Steph told him, sighing. “I’m just here out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You have one of those?” Jason asked, and then shrieked with laughter when she tickled him.

There was a commotion over near the temporary stables. It was too far away to make anything out, but Steph had a hunch, and looked around for any sign of Damian.

She shook her head. “Can’t leave these kids unattended for five minutes.”

Cass got to her feet, frown on her face, and started off towards the horses.

“Yikes,” Duke said, with a soft laugh.

“Damian’s in trouble,” Jason said, sing-song and giggling.

“Regret joining the family?” Steph asked Duke, waggling her eyebrows.

“Nah,” Duke replied. “I wonder about everyone’s sanity sometimes though.”

“It’s too late for you, kid,” Kate said, taking a sip of her drink. “You’re in the family business, after all.”

***

Steph had a new routine on Sundays. It used to be an indulgent day, the one day she’d truly sleep in and relax, forget about college and her nightlife both. These days, she got up early and ate breakfast with her mother, if she was around, and then got dressed and packed her gear for a night at the manor. The morning drive was peaceful and relaxed, and she always pulled up to Wayne Manor with plenty of time to spare.

She had a standing appointment with someone who did not like it when she was late or plans were changed, so it became a routine, more stringently kept than even her attendance in class. Alfred always let her in, even though she had her own key, and Steph made her way to the downstairs den, which was commandeered for their use.

That Sunday Jason was already there, dressed in shorts and his Wonder Woman hoodie and playing with Nessie on the floor. The dog’s leg was mending and she was allowed more range now and Jason delighted in playing with her now that he had the opportunity.

“What’s up, munchkin?” Steph asked, flopping down on the couch and setting her bag on the floor. “Are we ready for Pokemon?”

“Bruce is being slow,” Jason said, rolling his eyes. Bruce, as predicted, did not at all like the show and spent a considerable amount of time ranting to Dick that it would rot Jason’s brain. Steph was pretty sure that at this point Dick zoned out through each speech and planned training runs for the Titans in his head instead. He’d yet to capitulate, bless his soul, and so Pokemon day continued, potentially forever, and Steph had been invited along by Jason after the second week in a row she’d crashed.

Presumably he wanted to also watch with someone who wasn’t a stick in the mud like Bruce.

When Bruce finally arrived, freshly showered and red-eyed (Steph thought he’d stopped sleeping before Pokemon to try and make it less painful on himself and found the idea hilarious), Jason took one scornful look at him and pouted.

“You’re late!”

“By one minute, Jay,” Bruce said, slumping down on the couch next to Steph with a sigh. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“Punctuality is very important, Bruce,” Jason said. “We’re watching an extra episode today to make up for it.”

Bruce made a pained noise.

“He’s a harsh taskmaster,” Steph said, patting Bruce on the shoulder.

“Shows like this are how they brainwash children,” Bruce said, as Jason fiddled with the television to get them started. “I’m appalled that you think this is good.”

“I never said I thought it was good.” Steph laughed. “I enjoyed it as a kid though, and watching you suffer through it is basically all I want from life at this point.”

“You’re aiming too low,” Bruce replied, slumping further down on the couch. “I have nightmares that we’ll still be watching this when he’s nineteen again.”

“I can’t believe Batman is finally broken, not by one of his rogues, but by watching Pokemon with his grandkid.” Steph started laughing and couldn’t stop, clapping a hand over her mouth and falling back against the couch.

The part of her that wasn’t busy trying not to pee from laughing so hard had noticed the easy reference to Jason growing up again. When she finally calmed down she was still smiling so hard that her face hurt. They were all doing better, it was good. His kids would be pleased.

She was glad.

“Hey, Bruce, you shot me down last week but my offer still stands.” Steph punched him in the shoulder lightly. “We can totally Mystery Science Theater 3000 this shit.”

For a moment Bruce just stared at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Watch your language in front of Jason.”

“I already know that word,” Jason said, over his shoulder. “And Bruce is being a hypocrite again because last night he said fu—”

“I swore you to secrecy,” Bruce said, ignoring Steph’s renewed cackling.

“No,” Jason said. “You tried, but I only promised not to tell Dick or Arty.”

Bruce frowned, head cocked in thought.

“He’s a smart cookie,” Steph said, as Jason clambered up onto the couch between them. “You gotta look out for those loopholes with this one, Bruce.”

“That’s Dick’s job now,” Bruce said. “My job is apparently to spoil him and watch this show and hope my brain doesn’t melt along with his, being subjected to this tripe.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Wow, Bruce.” Steph made herself comfortable on the couch, curled around Jason. “You’re so harsh about this show. What do you think of the game?”

“…there’s a game?”

Which was how, one Sunday morning in June, Steph found herself on a couch with Bruce and Jason and a 3DS, surreptitiously filming them with her camera phone as Jason instructed Bruce on the fine art of playing Pokemon.

***

The room was secure, the windows were locked, Steph had checked everything over three times already, but her stomach was all twisted up and her throat was dry as she reached the door, so she turned around and did another circuit; the whole room, the window, the bed were Jason was already fast asleep, tucked in snuggly with Sparky in his arms and his fingers in his mouth again. Those she tugged out before she turned again to leave. This time she made it all the way out to the hall before the paranoia overtook her.

She went back into the room and settled in the rocking chair.

It was the first time since Jason had been taken that Steph was babysitting alone—and it wasn’t really alone, then or now, but it was the same as then, and she still had a ball of guilt that she knew was misplaced but carried anyway.

Forcing herself to leave wouldn’t be any better, she decided. She’d just worry in another room, a room where she couldn’t even see Jason and reassure herself that he was fine, he was safe and no one had taken him.

There was no difference, waiting in Jason’s room until Dick returned from patrol instead of going to bed in another.

God, how the hell did Dick ever manage to leave him for even a second?

Eventually she must have dozed off, because she startled when a little hand touched her leg, blinking to find Jason standing in front of her, sleepy eyed and pouting. “What’s wrong, munchkin?”

“I woke up,” he said, miserably.

“Bad dream?” Steph let him climb into her lap and cuddled him close, burying her face against his hair and feeling the same sheer relief she’d felt when they’d got him back. Jason was okay.

“I don’t remember.” Jason wriggled, yawning loudly and turning to look up at her. “Steph I’m tired.”

“Same, little guy.” Steph had to bite back a yawn of her own, gentling shifting him back to the floor and standing. “I’ll come tuck you in again and stay with you until you’re back to sleep, okay?”

Jason nodded, sleepy enough to be malleable but not so tired he had reached the grumpiness that resulted in stubborn tears and resistance to even the simplest requests. Steph held the covers back to let him climb in under them and then tucked them around him, handing him Sparky again to cuddle.

“I want a story,” Jason said, reaching out and tugging at Steph’s arm until she gave in and climbed onto the bed next to him, settling herself back against the pillows with a sigh. “Tell me a story, Steph.”

There was a creak at the door as it opened just enough to let Tim poke his head through. His eyes landed on her and then he quietly slid into the room, closing the door behind him and stepping carefully over the Lego pieces that formed a line of defensive on the floor. Jason muttered a sleepy protest and if he remembered in the morning Steph was sure immediate construction would begin on new gremlin traps.

Jason wriggled, freeing a hand to poke her in the side. “Steph, story!”

“Okay, okay,” Steph said, brushing his hair back as he thought. “A story…”

Tim set himself down in the rocking chair. He had his laptop and a small rectangular case in his hands, which he set at his feet. He folded his hands primly in his lap and raised both eyebrows at her. “Yeah, Steph, tell us a story.”

“Jason, have I ever told you the story of how Tim and I met?” Steph asked, rolling her eyes at Tim.

“No way. I don’t want to hear about you kissing,” Jason said, sticking his tongue out and making a face.

“I hit him in the face with a brick, actually,” Steph said, smiling widely as Tim grimaced and rubbed at his nose reflexively.

“Oh,” Jason said. “That’s okay then.”

Steph settled back more comfortably on the bed. “Okay, so it all started when my criminally loser father came back to town, calling himself the Cluemaster.”

Jason wrinkled his nose. “That’s a stupid name.”

“It is, yes,” Stephanie replied. “So, my father is back being a terrible villain, so of course I have to suit up to help stop him, right? I was the Spoiler, spoiling his crimes.”

Jason giggled.

“Hush, I was like fifteen at the time,” Steph said, flicking his nose. “And come on, Spoiler is much better than naming yourself Batman, am I right?”

Yawning, Jason nodded. “Arty has the best name.”

“She just uses her real one,” Tim said. “I’m not sure that counts.”

“It’s awesome so it counts,” Jason said. His eyelids began to flutter as sleep crept up on him again.

“And I don’t think you get to judge anyone’s name,” Steph said to Tim. “Red Robin is the least original identity.”  

“Because Batgirl is so unique?” Tim asked, voice low because Jason had rolled over, finally drifting off to sleep.

“Batgirl is a legacy,” Steph said. “You just confuse everyone.”

“Cass is Black Bat, I don’t see the difference.”

“Half the family is Bat something,” Steph said, waving it off. “But come on. It’s time for you to move on and get a better identity.”

Tim narrowed his eyes at her. “Steph, I know you. You’re bringing this up for a reason.”

Steph slowly shifted over and got off the bed, sneaking glances at Jason to make sure he was still asleep. Over on his desk there was a pile of pages; coloring pages, childish doodles and his complicated plans for his Lego army. Steph flipped through them until she found the one she was looking for, a drawing Jason had done while they’d been watching Pokemon one week. She took it over to Tim and held it up for him to see.

“Behold the Gremlin.” There was so much glee bubbling up inside that her eyes started to tear up at the look on his face. “It’s your new identity and costume. Jason is very talented, don’t you think?”

Tim’s face went through a complicated series of emotions before he took a shaky breath, just a hint of laughter underneath. “Why is my face green?”

Steph looked down at the picture thoughtfully. “He said your costume was halfway to a Christmas tree already so he committed to your theme.”

“He said?” Tim asked. “Or you did?”

“We’re on similar wavelengths.” Steph shrugged and went to go put the drawing back in the pile. “I, for one, would welcome the Gremlin on our team.”

“Ask me again closer to Halloween.”

Steph flashed a grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Tim put his hands up. “Hey, that was not a promise or anything.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Steph pointed to the laptop and case. “What’s all that then?”

Tim reached down and grabbed the black case, opening it to show Steph what was inside.

“Tim, please don’t tell me you’re trying to put surveillance on Jason.”

“It’s basically just a baby monitor,” Tim replied, hunching a bit defensively. “Bruce has probably already bugged the place up and down.”

“Uh, no, because Dick yelled at him about invasion of privacy and spying on children being terrible parenting,” Steph said. “Does Dick know about this?”

“I asked first,” Tim said, putting the device on the bedside table. “It’s not meant to be a secret or anything, I just put it together a little differently and with some extras, and we’re calling it something else because Jason will kick up a fuss if we just tell him it’s a baby monitor. I worked with Oracle and Zatanna on bits of it. It can detect magic and send alerts down to the Cave, our comms and Oracle’s systems if it detects anything.” Tim turned to her, reaching out and squeezing her arm gently. “I figured since you were watching him tonight that it might help.”

“Help with what?” Steph asked, looking away and rubbing at her eyes.

“It sucked, what happened,” Tim said. “Jason got taken and I know it hit you really hard, Steph. It wasn’t your fault, though, and I know just saying that won’t just make it go away. But believe me, it was just bad luck that you were the one watching him. None of us could have stopped Circe, not without staking his room out all night.”

“Also a plan that Dick vetoed,” Steph said, still facing away so Tim didn’t see her watering eyes.

Tim laughed. “Let’s be honest, you’re amazing with him, and I was the idiot that had no idea where he was for like twenty minutes. I was lucky he just went to the kitchen to eat gummy worms so he could throw up on me instead of jumping off a banister or running around with a knife.” He gave the monitor a gentle pat. “I’ve been working on this thing for a while and just finished it. I figured it might make you feel better to have it.”

“That’s just as sweet and stalkerish a gift as I’d expect from you, Timothy.” Steph poked at the monitor a bit. It did look just like a very hi-tech and sleek baby monitor, and Tim was right that Jason would kick up a fuss if they just called it that. “So, what genius name have you decided to call this thing.”

For a moment, Tim hesitated. Then he sighed. “It’s the Bat-monitor.”

Steph stared at him for a long moment before turning back to the monitor, zeroing in on the two pointy little antennae on the top of the case.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Chapter Text

With the last of the boxes packed up and ready to be taken down to the car, Dick’s apartment looked bare and unwelcoming, which he supposed was apt considering that’s how he’d felt every time he’d ducked over to it to keep up some kind of pretense in the last month or so. Moving back after Damian had been hard, and now it was just…impossible. Family was more important than keeping his own city. He’d proved himself over and over again and still had the Titans and New York to think about. It was time to put Bludhaven behind him. Permanently this time.

“Are you sure about this?” Babs asked, across the comm she’d insisted he take with him. “You’ve spent so long doing everything in your power to run away and prove you weren’t Bruce. Now you’re just moving back to Gotham, to the manor, and living under the same roof?”

“It’s the manor,” Dick said, picking up the last of the boxes and making his way out of the apartment. He didn’t look back. “There’s enough space that we can co-exist without seeing each other at all if we wanted to. I should know, I did it when I was seventeen.”

“You and Bruce were fighting again within a week of you being back,” Babs said. “Yes, you’ve made up now, but you two still butt heads regularly and no one wants that.”

“We had something pretty important to fight about.” The boxes went in the back of the car with the rest, and then Dick was sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. “Look, I’m not seventeen anymore, Babs. I can handle Bruce.”

“What about the penthouse? It would give you more space.”

“Jason’s at the manor.”

“Jason doesn’t have to be at the manor.”

“Yes, he does.” It was five in the morning on a Saturday, which meant the streets were decently clear and Dick could make reasonable time back to Gotham. He stuck to the main roads and resisted the urge to run a red light at a deserted intersection. “The manor is better for everyone, Babs.”

“Fine, just…” Babs sighed. “Look after yourself too, Dick. You’re sacrificing a lot for your little brothers, here. Again.”

“I’m not sacrificing anything,” Dick replied. “Except maybe my reputation, but Richie Wayne’s reputation wasn’t exactly my highest priority.”

“When I set this cover up,” Babs said. “I really wasn’t expecting anything to come from it. I know when we talked you worried about what could happen, but I’m so used to the weird crap we deal with that I really thought it would just blow over, that we could produce a false paternity result and go on with our lives.”

“Instead, you won Wally a significant amount of money in the Titan’s betting pool,” Dick said, laughing. “It’s fine, Babs. I had years to run around and prove my independence. I don’t mind coming home and putting family first.”

“Okay, but I’ll remind you of this conversation in a month when you and Bruce are at each other’s throats again.”

“Such little faith in us.”

“I’m a realist.”

Dick switched the radio on for the rest of the drive back to Gotham and relaxed, determined to enjoy the peace while he had it. The manor was a much noisier and busier place than it had been when Dick had been a kid. He preferred it more these days, and he suspected that Alfred and Bruce did as well.

It was that dead time of the morning when he returned, the time where everyone had either just gone to bed or hadn’t yet woken up. Alfred was probably up and about somewhere, but Dick didn’t see him as he took the boxes out of his car and carried them to his room. He stacked them in the corner and resolved to do something about finally unpacking in the next week. He’d been living out of a single drawer and duffel bag since he’d moved back. The room still had mementos from his childhood that could be packed away and stored, or handed down to Jason, he supposed, since there was more than a handful of things he’d used to look at and go ‘one day’ and that day had sneaked up and smacked him in the face and handed him a seven year old.

There were probably a few things that Damian might like, too, although his tastes were vastly different than Dick’s had been as a kid.

Still, the Red Hood action figure that held pride of place on Damian’s desk at least showed he wasn’t quite as grown up as he liked to think he was.

He heard the shuffling feet in the hall before his door burst open and Jason ran at him, watery eyed and pouting.

“Dick! You’re back.”

“I am,” he said, picking Jason up under the arms and setting him on the bed. Jason immediately climbed under the covers and settled there, watching him avidly as Dick made sure the stack of boxes was secure and not likely to fall over on top of a curious child. “How did you know I’d even left?”

He’d picked the time for a reason, and it wasn’t the traffic.

“I woke up and you were gone,” Jason said, rolling himself up in Dick’s blankets and making a frustrated sound. “Dick, where’s Sparky?”

“Probably in your room, with the rest of your things.”

Jason gave another sniff.

“I’ll get him in a second,” Dick said, tossing his phone down on his dresser and striping out of his jacket. “Are you awake for the day or napping with me?”

Jason burrowed under the covers in response until only a few strands of dark hair could be seen on Dick’s pillow.

Sparky had been left on Jason’s bed, thankfully, and not tossed somewhere else in the manor that would take a trip down to the Cave to check the tracker Bruce had placed it after one too many tears caused by Jason misplacing it. Nessie looked up and whined when Dick grabbed the toy. She could use the ramp that they’d set up at the end of the bed now and spent most of her time either sleeping on his pillows or outside, barking at squirrels.

“You staying or going?” Dick asked, hovering in the doorway.

Nessie rolled over onto her back and stretched her legs out in the air.

Jason was awake when Dick got back and poked his hand out of the blankets and pulled Sparky back under with him. He did nothing more than grumble a bit when Dick shifted him over from the middle of the bed so he could lie down. Dick let his eyes drift shut, hoping he could get a few solid hours before he needed to wrangle a small child. He could feel Jason shift beside him, and then breathing near his ear.

“Dick.”

“Hm?”

“I’m not sleepy.”

He pried his eyes open and turned his head. Jason was staring at him, Sparky’s ear in his mouth. Dick reached out and tugged the ear loose. “You don’t have to stay in here with me, Jay. Alfred should be awake by now.”

“But I want to be with you,” Jason said, frowning.

“And I appreciate that,” Dick said, sighing and pushing himself up, rubbing at his gritty eyes. “But I really need sleep and the likelihood of you letting me is probably about zero.”

To his credit, Jason didn’t bother arguing with that assessment.

“Come on, then.” Dick got to his feet and then dragged Jason out from his blanket cocoon, setting him on his feet and handing him Sparky. Jason cuddled the toy and followed Dick out of the room and down the hall. Dick didn’t bother knocking on the door before entering.

Bizarro was sitting on a low couch under the window, drawing in a sketchbook with pencils that Damian had provided when he’d noticed Bizarro’s interest.

“Morning, Biz,” Dick said, as Jason raced into the room and took a flying leap to land on the couch beside him. “He’s yours now.”

Biz smiled, nodding and reaching out to brush Jason’s hair away from his face. “Little Red Him let Blue Him sleep.”

Jason puffed his cheeks out like a hamster but reluctantly nodded. “Okay, but only because I like spending time with Biz.”

“I’ll be up in a few hours,” Dick said.

His feet dragged a bit on the walk back to his room and he all but flopped down on the bed face first.

Sleep came quickly. It always did, lately.

***

Dick knew how to keep calm under pressure. There weren’t a lot of things these days that managed to crack through and send him reeling. Things that did: a trip to the emergency room at four in the afternoon after Jason fell off the jungle gym at the park and landed chin first on the ground.

Calm was the last thing he was at the moment. Calm had sailed off to better waters and left him stuck in raging seas of turmoil and panic, and Damian was looking at him like he was overreacting.

“There’s not enough air in here,” Dick said, as Damian continued to stare at him with furrowed brows.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Damian said. Damian, unlike Dick, had maintained his composure. He’d been swinging upside down on one end of the monkey bars when it had happened. Dick hadn’t seen it. One second, Jason had been laughing and Dick’s phone had been ringing, so he’d answered it and turned away, and the next second he’d heard a scream that would haunt his nightmares.

It had been Artemis on the other end and Bizarro had brought her to them immediately. Now, Bizarro sat next to Damian in the waiting room, while Artemis kept Jason company while he got his stitches and Dick fell apart, pacing the waiting room.

When Bruce finally arrived, he took one look at Dick’s face and pointed to the nearest chair. “Sit down, now.”

He all but collapsed in the seat, like a puppet with its strings cut, and put his head in his hands. He could vaguely hear Bruce talking to Damian over the roaring in his ears, but it sounded very far away. A hand squeezed his knee and he looked up. Bruce was crouched in front of him and rather than the anger or blame Dick had been dreading, if anything he looked…amused?

“Are you smiling?” Dick asked, jerking back. “It’s been like two weeks and he’s probably already scarred for life! I can’t do this.”

Bruce was definitely smiling now. He squeezed Dick’s knee again. “Do you remember when you fell off the rings down in the gym, back when you were twelve?”

Dick frowned, trying to remember. “Which time? Did I slip or jump?”

Bruce chuckled, knocking him lightly under the chin with one hand. “You knocked your head and needed stitches. Anything about this scenario feel familiar to you?”

“Oh.” Dick sucked in a deep breath, rubbing at the small, barely visible scar on the side of his face near his hairline. “That time. You handled it much better than I am.”

“I seemed calm,” Bruce said, moving to sit in the chair beside him. “Inside I was a mess. Alfred could tell you. I didn’t sleep at all that night, when we got you home.”

“Does it get easier?”

“I’m pretty calm right now,” Bruce replied, putting one arm around Dick’s shoulders and squeezing. “It’s just a few stitches, he’ll be fine.”

Jason, when Artemis finally carried him out, was more than fine. He was downright enthused.

“I have stitches!” He wriggled in Artemis’ arms until she set him on his feet and then darted over to each of them in turn, showing off the neat, tiny row of stitched under his chin. “They’re cool. I want ice-cream.”

“The doctor said it is unlikely to scar,” Artemis said.

“I’m fine,” Jason said, rubbing at his eyes with a loosely closed fist. “I need ice-cream now.”

“After dinner, okay?”Dick sighed, ruffling Jason’s hair. Of the two of them, it looked like Dick had been more traumatized by the experience.

“For the record,” Damian said, as they were walking out to the car. “I recorded your overreaction and have sent it to all of the family and the Titans.”

“Wow,” Dick said, shaking his head. Jason was starting to crash now the excitement had died down and didn’t kick up a fuss as Dick buckled him into the booster seat. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You had your former teammates feed you intel,” Damian replied, sliding into the car beside Jason and handing him Sparky.

Dick laughed. “You’re the one who picked them.”

“Yes, well, I will not underestimate you in the future.”

***

A solid weight hit him in the stomach and Dick jerked awake with a groan, opening his eyes just enough to squint up at Artemis, who stood next to the bed. The weight turned out to be Jason, who giggled and then burrowed his way under the covers and settled there against his side.

“I have business elsewhere, I’m taking Bizarro,” Artemis said. “I decided against taking the little one with me.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dick said, rubbing at his eyes. “Pretty sure the fancy papers we drew up gave me primary physical custody.”

A surreal experience, but not even arranging custody agreements with an Amazon had shaken the professionalism of Wayne Enterprise’s lawyers.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. “Papers wouldn’t stop me. Nevertheless, he is not coming. We will not be gone for long.”

“Take the cell phone so he can call you,” Dick said, as Artemis turned to leave. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t use it too often but he’s going to be miserable without you.”

“Of course,” Artemis replied. “You know how to get in touch if we’re needed urgently.”

The door shut behind her with a sharp click.

Dick looked over at the clock and groaned at the time, rolling onto his side and nudging Jason over a bit. “Your mom is mean,” he mumbled, already halfway to sleep again.

“So are you,” Jason said, shifting closer and yawning.

“…Fair.”

***

Titans Tower was full that weekend, with members new and old and rejoined. There normally weren’t quite so many children running around, but certain introductions had to be made and there were bets to collect.

“Does it count if it’s actually his younger brother regressed permanently to a child?” Gar asked, as the group of them watched the kids play in the pool. Garth’s wife Dolphin was with them, playing lifeguard and keeping an eye on Cerdian, who at three was the biological youngest. Chronological youngest were Wally’s twins, but they’d rapidly aged in an alternate dimension and had come out the oldest, with Irey topping out at ten while her twin brother was eight.

Jason’s situation was hardly the strangest of the children, really.

“There’s a birth certificate and news coverage and a press release,” Wally said, grinning at Gar. “It counts. Don’t be a sore loser just because you’re out of pocket. Dick’s raising him anyway, so even excluding the false backstory he’s functionally adopted him.”

“I haven’t stopped laughing since I first saw the news break,” Roy said, pulling up his phone and holding it up to them. “I made this one my phone background.”

Donna leaned closer to the phone to read it. “’From Amazon Warrior to Alien Princess: the Love Life of Richard Wayne’. Amazing.”

Vic snorted and pointed to Dick. “He’s still twitching whenever anyone mentions it. What’s got you so weirded out, anyway?”

“Have you met Artemis?” Dick asked. Donna laughed and punched him lightly on the arm. “You’d be twitching too if the only thing Gotham’s news media wanted to talk about was how you knocked up an Amazon.”

“I’m so glad that Lian and I fly under the radar,” Roy said. “I’d shoot someone if they were this interested in taking pictures of my kid.”

“Bruce is going with lawsuits instead,” Dick replied. “Artemis threatened to throw one of them off a building and Bizarro’s so fast he just steps in front of the cameras and blocks the picture.”

“And you?” Garth asked, nudging him in the side.

“I may or may not have decked a guy,” Dick said, shrugging. “Bruce and the PR people were mad but he scared Jason and at least the media ran a new story for once.”

A shriek came from the pool; Jai had shoved his sister under the water and a fight was breaking out. Dolphin calmly gathered Cerdian up and watched peaceably as Irey began attempting to create a whirlpool with her powers. At the other end of the pool Lian and Jason were attempting to build a raft out of pool noodles.

“I feel like an old maid around you guys,” Lilith said, shaking her head at the kids. “And I’m only twenty five.”

“Don’t worry, Lilith.” Kory grinned. “I have you down for next year in the pool.”

Lilith laughed. “I’ll pass, if it’s all the same. I, uh, have you down next month, so I guess that was a waste.”

“She could marry Dick,” Roy said, winking. “I don’t think we have a rule forbidding the same kid being claimed twice.”

“Uh, we do now!” Gar turned to Raven, elbowing her in the side. “Add it to the book.”

Raven sighed. “Don’t you all think this might have gotten a little out of hand? The appendix is nearly longer than the constitution.”

“It’s a tradition and a vital part of our history,” Donna said. “And I have a lot of money riding on Dick and Kory’s wedding.”

Kory laughed while Dick buried his face in his hands.

“It’s been years, Donna, please.”

Donna scowled. “No. I still think it should’ve counted. Raven interfered on purpose.”

“I was evil at the time.”

“Your point?”

***

In a far off corner of the Wayne Estate there was a small pond, occasionally frequented by ducks. It was in a quiet, secluded area of the property that was a great place to  get away from the manor and the people living in it. Dick used to walk Ace around it, back when he was a kid and he and Bruce had started fighting a lot.

“Titus isn’t allowed to jump on Nessie!” Jason dropped to the ground, throwing his arms around Nessie’s neck and glaring at the much larger dog, who was bent in a playful crouch and wagging his tail. “He’ll crush her.”

“Titus is well-trained, he won’t do anything,” Damian said, clicking his tongue and gesturing Titus back to his side. The dog went with only a moment of hesitation. “I have him well under control.”

Jason stayed on the ground for a moment longer before getting back to his feet and picking up Nessie’s lead, continuing their slow walk. The increased exercise was good for the dog, although she still had to remain on lead until the leg was completely healed.

Damian slowed his pace, letting Jason walk Nessie ahead of them and dropping back to walk at Dick’s side. He glanced up at him. “I hear that I will not be the only one returning to school in the fall.”

“You heard correctly.” Aunt Agatha had been on a mission and Dick had capitulated on the subject of college when it became apparent he could do mostly online courses. Bruce’s own training had been comprehensive enough and he preferred independent learning anyway. The last he’d heard about the others was that Cass was considering dance schools and Aunt Agatha had brought up a transfer to Gotham Academy with Duke, who remained fairly ambivalent at the prospect.

Tim had become a ghost around the manor for a solid week until he had finally been cornered. Negotiations were still on-going. A GED had been mentioned in passing but whether such a thing would fly with Aunt Agatha was up in the air. Bruce had eventually intervened and that one was still well and truly up in the air.

“Good,” Damian said, with a smug little smirk. “At least I will not be the only one suffering.”

“Yeah, pretty sure it’s going around.” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, ignoring his squawk of protest. “The only one really happy about it is Jason.”

“He still spends half the day crying, it seems like,” Damian muttered. “I suppose it evens out.”

Dick laughed. “And how’s your team going?”

Damian gave him a thoroughly suspicious look. “I’m not going to just hand over intelligence, Richard. You can just wait until we go public like everyone else.”

“Is Irey joining?” Dick asked, nudging him in the side. “I’m sure Wally would let her.”

“I’m not saying a thing.”

Jason turned around, grinning widely. “I know all the members!”

“Say nothing, you cretin!”

“Your face is a cretin!’

Dick rolled his eyes as the bickering started. So much for the peaceful walk.

It was okay. Peace was overrated anyway.

***

Dick looked around the dimly lit room, heaved a sigh, and got to work.

The safe house was deep in the Bowery, one of the more obscure ones Jason kept. They’d only found it after linking together three separate false identities, one of which was given by Jason himself, after he’d woken up from what he called a ‘weird dream’ and spent the next hour loudly worrying that people were stealing his stuff.

No one was stealing his stuff, he’d hidden it far too well.

The family had been quietly going through his safe houses and dismantling them all, which had caused an epic tantrum as Jason was attached to his real estate empire despite having little conscious memory of it.

It was his, and that was really all he cared about.

But Bruce, being Bruce, had begun to deal with the necessary fallout of the Red Hood’s forced retirement—and that meant digging into things he’d deliberately not looked at while Jason had been around to thwart, disapprove or otherwise stop him.

The first connection he’d found to Talia had ended the tentative plan to turn Jason’s old safe houses into general ones for the family.

“I could handle this alone,” Artemis said, kicking the old couch that was one of the few pieces of furniture in the place. “There is nothing especially sensitive here.”

Dick gestured to the wall where several wooden crates of weapons were stacked. “He used this one purely as an armory. There are rocket launchers here. I don’t know what the hell he thought he needed all this for—it’s enough to supply his own army.”

Perhaps at some point Jason had plans to wage a literal war. Dick tried not to think about it—although it did cast some of his current plans for the ‘gremlin invasion’ in a new light.

Artemis rolled her eyes. “You know very much what I mean.”

They had started their somewhat morbid dismantling of Jason’s former life at his primary apartment. It was the only one they’d taken Jason to, as it had most of his personal belongings—that they knew of, anyway—and it had seemed wrong not to give him an opportunity to…pick out anything sentimental before they put it away in storage. Jason had picked everything and wouldn’t even entertain thoughts of storing the furniture, cutlery or even the light fixtures.

Then, Bruce had found the secret compartment in Jason’s bedside drawer, which contained a journal Dick refused to read but Bruce probably had, and a will that Jason had drawn up and signed in blood, probably on a day he’d been feeling especially morbid.

No burial was underlined several times in his own blood and he’d opted for cremation. There were provisions for things like life support, as well as some more…outlandish scenarios such as mind control and possession.

And don’t even think about putting me in the Lazarus Pit, Jason had written at the end, handwriting going from neat cursive to raggedly printing like he’d been angry or emotional while writing it. I do not care what the alternative is. Even if I’m brain dead again. If any of you assholes reads this and puts me in one to ‘fix me’ anyway, I’ll happily use the resulting insanity to murder you. It gets worse the more times you’re put in the damn thing, Bruce. I’ll be able to go through with it.

Bruce had taken the will and left immediately, and the task of handling Red Hood’s safe houses had fallen to the rest of them.

“I have to do this,” Dick said, rubbing at his eyes. “He’s my brother.”

It was really the only way he had of saying goodbye.

“What about you?” Dick asked, watching as Artemis hefted crates of weapons with ease and began stacking them. “Have you and Bizarro found what you’re looking for?”

Artemis paused, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone. I know where you two have been going.”

“You’re just as annoying as your brother.” Artemis put a hand to her forehead, shrugging one shoulder. “We have found nothing. Aeaea is gone, not a trace remains. Perhaps Circe was incinerated in her own explosion, but…I am not capable of taking it on faith. Not with Circe, not again.”

“You’re staying, then.”

“Circe has already taken much from me,” Artemis replied. “She won’t get him.”

Chapter Text

“Hello, Harley.”

Batwoman stood outside the cell, staring in at Harley Quinn, who looked up with a wide grin. She appeared much more relaxed than she had the last time they’d met like this.

“Well, deja vu to you too, Batchick.” Harley stayed on her bed, the jiggling of one of her feet the only movement she made. It was an absent motion rather than an agitated one. “What you need?”

“I’m just checking up on you,” Batwoman replied. “How are you doing these days, Harley?”

Harley raised an eyebrow, face going lax in what might have been surprise. Finally, she gave a soft little laugh and shrugged a bit. The smile that curled her lips was a little less manic than it used to be, a little more real. “I’m doing better. What about you? Find that kid you were looking for that time?”

“Yes, we did.” Batwoman stared at Harley a little longer before deciding it was time to leave. The security on Arkham was tighter than it had been the last time she’d visited. “Keep at it, Harley. You’re free of him forever. Concentrate on you now.”

“See ya round, Batchick.”

***

Renee was sitting on the couch, book in hand while her television blared quietly in the background. Two mugs of hot chocolate were on the coffee table. Steam rose from them both, too hot yet to drink. She just flipped to the next page when the window jiggled and a dark shadow slid into the apartment. She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Knocking is still beyond you people, isn’t it?”

Kate froze, halfway through pulling the mask off her face. “Can I come in?”

Snorting, Renee gestured to the second mug of hot chocolate. “Well, I didn’t make that for the invisible man, did I? Shower and get changed, Kate. Then we can talk.”

Slowly, Kate nodded and padded softly down the hall towards the bathroom, pausing by the hall cupboard to retrieve a towel.

She still knew where everything was.

Of course she did.

Renee sighed and turned determinedly back to her book.

They really needed to have that talk, first.

***

Whenever he could, Jim arranged to meet Barbara on Sunday mornings for breakfast at their favorite cafe. It was usually more like brunch by the time he got there, if work hadn’t forced him to skip it entirely due to one crisis or another.

That morning marked a month since he’d last been forced to skip one, and he’d arrived early to boot.

Barbara smiled as she arrived, joining him at the table (already set up for them, they were such regular customers), and picking up a menu. They always looked at the menu, even if neither of them needed to anymore. It used to be a way to avoid the things they didn’t want to talk about, to hide the strain and tension they were each under. Now, it was just habit.

“Are you seeing anyone new?” Jim asked, once they had ordered and no longer had menus to hide behind. “You always say you’re busy with work, but I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

Barbara barked a laugh and took a sip of her coffee. “Are you asking me for grandkids?”

“Maybe.” Jim nodded to the paper that was folded and sitting on the end of the table. “Blasted media’s still obsessed with Bruce Wayne’s little grandson. You’d think it was the only thing that had happened in the damn city in months.”

“Yeah,” Barbara smiled, a soft thing, and stared off out the window. “We’ve had a string of good news in the city, lately, after all.”

Jim snorted. “The Joker is better buried and forgotten. Glad that damn thing didn’t go to trial. What a farce it would’ve been.”

Barbara took his hand and squeezed it in hers. “I’m glad too, Dad.”

***

“So, how’s the bouncing baby boy?” Barbara asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dick shrug. “Still bouncing.”

The contingencies that Barbara had put in place had been to explain away a small boy suddenly appearing and disappearing from their lives. There had been a number of them, all ready to go at a moment’s notice when it had become apparent that Jason wasn’t going to be fixed quickly and they couldn’t hide him away on the Wayne property forever. Oracle was good enough that constructing an identity for ‘Jason Wayne’ had been easy and impossible to tell from the real thing—that she’d been able to use Artemis, an Amazon, as his mother had only made the job easier.

Now that things had gone a little more permanent than she’d envisioned, she occasionally had to draw up more records as they needed them.

Barbara slid her glasses down her nose and rubbed at her eyes. “You’re sure you don’t want Grayson anywhere?”

Dick grimaced. “It rhymes, Babs. Jason would hate it.”

Because one day Jason would grow up and get all his memories back, of course. Barbara wasn’t sure how much she believed that would really happen, and even if it did there wasn’t really any going back from his new role as spoiled Wayne grandchild.

“Have the three of you resolved the middle name debate yet? Or are you still fighting about it?”

Dick made a face and shook his head.

Honestly.

“I’ll just pick myself.”

***

A pair of wide, watery eyes were peering up at Alfred as Jason held up his favorite item of clothing, the Wonder Woman jumper, much beloved and covered in mud at the moment.

“But Alfie, you have to wash it,” Jason said, in a tone of great betrayal.

“You have others, Master Jason,” Alfred said, taking it from him and examining it critically. God help them all when Jason inevitably wore it out or grew out of it. “I’ll put it with your other laundry and you can have it back with the rest.”

Jason shook his head, holding his hands out for it stubbornly. “I will wash it myself.”

Alfred sighed. “It’s getting a little too hot to wear this constantly, isn’t it?”

“No,” Jason said, stretching up on his toes to reach the bottom of the jumper and tug on it. “I’ll wash it. I’ll use the bath.”

A frankly terrible idea, if Alfred had ever heard one. Jason’s baths were now strictly supervised after he had attempted to create ‘a larger swimming area’ by blocking the bottom of the door off with towels and then adding an entire bottle of bubble bath to the thing ‘for flavor’. Flavor of what, Alfred couldn’t presume to know. Jason had been stopped before he’d managed much more than overflowing the tub, but it had been a reminder that a more careful eye was needed on what supplies he could access.

“I’ll wash it for you this time, Master Jason.”

Jason let go and jumped back, beaming at him. “Thank you, Alfie!”

Then he scampered off, and Alfred was left hoping he wasn’t contributing too terribly to spoiling the boy.

Still, with a sigh he shook his head and walked off to the laundry.

It was not a hardship to indulge him—this time.

A better investment would be to order in some duplicates, to avoid the inevitable day the jumper was ruined beyond mending.  

***

“There is nothing appealing about Man’s World at all.”

Donna rolled her eyes, linking her arm through Artemis’ and leading her into the next store. “We both know that’s not true or you wouldn’t be staying.”

Artemis grunted, giving the clothing around them suspicious looks as Donna dragged her through the store. “I have clothing.”

“What Bizarro got for you is a start,” Donna said, stopping at a rack and eying it critically. “But you can’t just run around in your armor or sweats all the time.”

“Why not?”

“I think this is good,” Donna said, releasing Artemis’ arm, taking the dress and holding it up to Artemis and pursing her lips. “But we should see if we can find something in green. It’s your color.”

“You’re doing this to torture me.”

“I’m doing no such thing.” Donna grinned, tugging her off further into the store. “You’ll need a dress if you ever attend one of the Wayne Galas.”

“I would quite literally prefer to go to Hell.” Artemis folded her arms and planted her feet. “There is no requirement that I attend.”

“You never know.” Donna had money riding on when, exactly, they would manage to get Artemis to show up to one. Roy and Wally had accurately estimated exactly how stubborn Artemis was, but they’d underestimated the influence that Jason had over her.

And Dick could put the idea in Jason’s head that he needed Artemis present at a Gala.

They’d been friends for more than ten years, and still the boys hadn’t caught on to Donna and Dick’s alliance for the books. There had been a reason Dick and Kory’s wedding had aligned so exactly for Donna’s bet, after all.

At this point it was the rest of the team’s own damn fault they’d be losing money.

***

Little hands were tangling in Kory’s hair, tugging on it lightly. Dick was asleep on the sofa next to her, feet propped up on the coffee table. A children’s movie was playing on the television screen in front of them, but Jason had lost interest and climbed into her lap, fascinated with her hair.

“It’s red like Arty’s,” Jason said, looking up at her with sleepy eyes. Kory didn’t know when he was meant to be put to bed and was loathe to disturb Dick to ask. The Titans had been caught up in a mission for over a week, the longest period Dick had been separated from Jason since everything had happened. When they had returned to New York it had been to find Artemis waiting in the Tower with Jason. She had spoken quietly with Dick and then taken her leave, and despite his obvious exhaustion Dick had spent the rest of the afternoon spending time with Jason instead of sleeping.

“Yours is like Dick’s.” Kory regarded him for a moment, eyes drifting to the little bit of white. “Except maybe for that.”

Jason’s hand drifted up and he tugged on the white hair absently. Kory thought the roots looked a bit darker than the last time she’d seen him, but perhaps it was her imagination.

“Kory,” he whispered, with a little glance over at Dick. “Take me flying.”

She laughed softly. “Doesn’t Bizarro take you up all the time?”

Jason’s eyes went wide and pleading. “But your hair is so pretty when you’re flying!”

She tugged him closer and buried her smile against his hair. “Okay, I’ll take you up—but we mustn’t wake Dick. He needs to rest.”

Jason pulled away and nodded solemnly.

***

“I know you said you had permission to do this,” Duke said, eying the Lego train tracks that were spilling out of Jason’s bedroom into the hall. “I’m just…full of doubt.”

“You should stop that,” Jason said, looking up at him and pointing towards the plastic toy container still sitting int he center of his bedroom. “I need more supplies, Duke. It has to reach the Cave.”

“Yeah, there is no way you have permission for this.” Duke sighed and carefully stepped over the toys and Lego pieces that covered the floor, bending down to heft the toy box up and carry it out to Jason. “I’ll give you this, but then I’m going to the library and pretending I never saw you, okay? I can’t be part of this.”

“You are weak and lack conviction,” Jason said, shuffling over to the box and digging through for more tracks.

“Ouch,” Duke said. “And you sound more and more like your mother every day.”

“Thank you,” Jason said. He pointed to the end of his train tracks. “Now, you go over there and we will begin making you strong.”

Duke laughed. “Jay, buddy, I love you—but I am not ready to stand before Batman and try to explain why his Cave is overrun with Lego trains. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you only have enough to reach the study, at a stretch.”

Jason frowned, looking around at his supplies. “I need more Lego.”

Jason constantly needed more Lego. His collection was growing at an alarming rate, despite the fact that he seemed to lose pieces all over the manor by throwing them around, forgetting them or, memorably, putting them inside water balloons to make them ‘more effective weapons’. Duke blamed Bruce, who’d taken to being a grandfather like a duck to water and should probably buy stock in Lego considering how much of it he presented Jason with on what seemed like a daily basis.

Not everyone was so fond of Lego. Alfred had been less than amused the time Jason had gotten them covered in Damian’s paints and decided to clean them by throwing them in the washing machine. The washing machine had broken, but the Lego pieces had been clean, so Jason had called it half a win. He’d quickly downgraded it to a complete loss when he’d been grounded for the misdemeanor.

Duke was fairly sure that in a hundred years they’d still be finding Lego pieces hidden away in dark corners of the manor.

Dick had finally put his foot down and banned new Lego acquisitions without his express permission and a reason beyond ‘Jason wants them’. Bless that dude, because otherwise the manor would probably be swimming in the damn things by now.

“How about until you get enough to complete your master plan we put all these away and go take Nessie for a walk?”

Jason pursed his lips thoughtfully before nodding, starting to dismantle the tracks. Nessie was beloved even above Lego.

Duke gave himself a mental pat on the back. Crisis averted.

***

“Say cheese!”

Cass and Jason gave her twin unimpressed looks from behind their identical sunglasses instead. Steph shrugged and took the picture anyway. It still looked good, her increasing number of social media followers would love it, and Jason was supremely cute when he was copying Cass.

The three of them were sitting at a park bench with their lunch, after taking Jason to the museum. They’d managed not to lose him even once, a feat Steph put down to Cass and her eagle eyes coupled with Steph’s paranoia and need to have Jason’s hand in hers the entire time, just to be sure. Jason had spent a solid fifteen minutes pouting about it, but it was getting easier to get him to listen to them, now that he had some solid structure in his life and wasn’t being kidnapped or otherwise traumatized at every turn.

“I think I’m going to focus on child psychology,” Steph said to Cass, as Jason busied himself in his food and occasionally threw bits of his sandwich towards the pigeons that gathered around them. “I think I’m naturally talented.”

Cass hummed. “You were going to be a nurse like your mom.”

“I was younger and knew myself less back then,” Steph replied, shrugging.

“It was last week.”

“I was younger last week.” Steph grabbed a napkin, wiping at a smudge of peanut butter at the corner of Jason’s mouth. He pulled a face but let her.

“The week before that you had decided to marry rich.”

“I might still do that,” Steph said, putting the napkin aside and smoothing down Jason’s hair. “I can do both of those things.”

“The week before—”

“Yes, yes.” Steph waved a hand at Cass and scowled when she smirked. “I’m indecisive about my future, what else is new. But I really think this might be it.”

“I think you should become a Lego architect,” Jason said. “You’d be good at it.”

He was only saying that because Steph had helped him make an elaborate trap for Tim that seen him stuck in his room behind a literal wall of Lego in revenge for Tim’s gremlin drone. Tim had actually used the drone to bust the whole thing down, sending a copious amount of Lego raining all over the hall and delighting Jason so much he’d not even been mad that his trap was so easily destroyed.

“It’s something to consider,” Steph said.

***

“Jason, you’re not allowed to climb that tree.” Tim grimaced, glancing back towards the house. He wasn’t actually Jason’s babysitter—he remained bottom of the list and happy about it—but Bizarro had dropped everything and flown off, in full costume, so Tim assumed there was some emergency that required his presence. The Titans were on a mission, and Artemis had been gone for a few days again.

Tim only had to keep him safe for maybe half an hour before someone more qualified came back and took over, but the minutes were ticking by slowly and Jason had immediately picked the most dangerous thing in the vicinity.

“I can climb just fine,” Jason said, reaching for the next branch and going higher. “That’s a stupid rule so I’m ignoring it.”

“Yeah, well you can take it up with Dick,” Tim said, circling around a bit so he remained directly under the boy in case he fell. “Because it’s his rule you’re breaking, here.”

That gave the kid pause.

He wasn’t exactly wrong about his climbing abilities; Dick was perhaps understandably preoccupied by the idea of Jason falling off something and getting hurt, so his solution had been to take him down to the gym and start training him early. No combat, which had disappointed Jason, but what Tim suspected had been similar stuff that Dick had been taught himself by his own parents.

Less trapeze swinging, but Tim supposed that was only a matter of time.

In any case, Jason knew exactly which trees he was allowed to climb and how high he could go.

The old oak he was currently scaling was not one of them.

“I don’t care,” Jason said, finally, committing to his rule-breaking, and reached for the next branch. He was getting worryingly high, up to where the branches were thinner. He slipped on the next one he reached for, knocking his chin against a thick branch as he slid down. “Ow!”

“Jason!” Tim rubbed his hands against his jeans and prepared to go after him. “Okay, that’s it. If you’re not down in ten seconds, I’m coming up after you and then you can go sit in the corner and be bored for fifteen minutes.”

Jason heaved a gusty sigh and, amazingly, started to scale back down. “Fine.”

Halfway to the ground he jumped and nearly gave Tim a heart attack, but he caught the boy just fine and set him on his feet.

“Trees are boring anyway,” Jason said, wrinkling his nose, and then he grabbed Tim by the hand and started tugging him inside. “Come play with me, Timmy!”

Tim looked to the heavens and prayed for salvation.

He was seriously never having kids.

***

“Hey Cass, have you seen—whoa! Holy smokes.”

Cass glanced up at Tim from her place stretched out on the rug in front of the television in the den. The newspapers she’d put out to protect their surroundings wrinkled when she moved. Her stomach twitched when Jason poked his paintbrush in her bellybutton.

“Stop moving, Cass,” Jason said, with a little huff. “We are at a delicate point of the procedure.”

“You’re painting her blue,” Tim said, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. Cass could see the disbelief dripping off him. “Why are you painting her blue?”

“I ran out of purple paint on Steph,” Jason replied. “And I’m not painting all of her blue. Just the bits without clothes on.”

Tim made a funny noise in the back of his throat.

Cass stared back at him, expressionless, and didn’t so much as shift her gaze to the purple form that was creeping up behind him.

“Boo!”

Tim jumped, whirling around to face Steph, whose face, neck and arms had all been painted bright purple, except for the yellow smiley faces Jason had painted on her cheeks. “Oh, geez, Steph.”

“It’s my new costume,” Steph said, twirling around in place. “I like it.”

“I can’t believe you guys are letting him paint you.”

“It’s actually very relaxing.” Steph’s nose twitched and she rubbed at it idly. “A bit like being at a spa. I almost fell asleep.”

Cass hummed agreement, and closed her eyes again. “It was Steph’s idea.”

“Unbelievable.”

Steph laughed. “You can be next, Tim. We’re saving the green paint for you.”

“A world of no.”

Cass felt Jason move closer, and then his breath against her ear.

“Cass,” he whispered. “Help me catch Tim next.”

Lips twitching, she nodded, enjoying the sound of his giggling as he went back to his task.

Maybe she would nap like Steph had.

Babysitting was easy.

***

“I can walk,” Jason said, wriggling from his place on Damian’s back, being carted back to the manor in a piggyback carry. “Damian, I can walk!”

“You cannot,” Damian replied, hefting the boy higher on his back and keeping his eyes on the uneven ground. They had roamed far across the property that day, perhaps further than they were strictly allowed, but Nessie had seen a rabbit and had terrier instincts, and it wasn’t her fault that she’d darted off after it and they’d had to go retrieve her. Her leg was thankfully healed, but Jason had only taught her to bark on command and roll over, so it was up to Damian to rectify the negligence in her training. He’d overlooked it because normally she was all but glued to Jason’s side no matter where they took her.

Nessie hadn’t caught the rabbit, thankfully, but Jason had slipped coming down  a steep incline and twisted his ankle. It was a minor sprain but asking him to walk on it would be neglecting his duties and Jason would only slow them down, anyway.

Father met them halfway back to the manor, relieving Damian of his burden and lifting Jason up his in arms to carry him the rest of the way. Jason made no protests about Father carrying him, Damian noticed, annoyed.

“What happened?” Father asked, mildly.

“I slipped,” Jason said. “Nessie wanted to go hunt rabbits.”

Nessie panted happily, walking along at Damian’s side. Titus walked several feet ahead of them, sniffing at the ground.

“Do you think,” Jason said, thoughtfully, poking at Father’s face, “that if we got a pet rabbit, Nessie would get used to them and not run off?”

“No,” Father answered. “I think she would probably eat the pet rabbit.”

“What if the rabbit was in a proper enclosure?” Jason asked.

“Jason, you’re not getting a rabbit.”

“It was very cute,” Jason said, and poked Father again.

Father sighed. “Ask Dick.”

Jason made a face, because Father was by far the easier target than Richard in regard to these things. Jason tilted back in Father’s arms, meeting Damian’s eyes and grinning.

Damian looked away, but nodded, just a tiny incline of his head.

Tomorrow, they would attempt to acquire a rabbit.

***

A small ball of little boy took a flying leap at his head, squawking indignantly when Batman snatched him out of the air and held him out in front of him, hands securely under his arms.

“Unhand me, you fiend!” Jason wriggled, kicking his feet and glaring.

Jason’s fear and distress of Batman had slowly evaporated and had instead been replaced with—this.

With a sigh, he propped the boy on his hip and made his way to the computer. “What are you doing down here, Jason?”

“I want to talk to Bruce,” the boy said, reaching for one of the ears on the cowl and tugging it, hard enough the edges of the cowl started to dig into his face.

With a wince, Bruce reached up with his free hand and pulled the cowl back, frowning down at Jason. “Jay, it is me.”

Jason poked his tongue out. “So you say!”

He wasn’t sure if Jason truly thought Bruce was possessed by some Bat demon when he put the cowl on, or if he was being subjected to the same kind of games that Tim was participating in with increasing frequency and complexity. Just the other day he’d walked out onto the patio to witness Tim chasing the child with a drone dressed as a flying gremlin—or at least that was what Tim had sheepishly called it when he’d noticed Bruce watching.

“What did you need to speak to me about?” Bruce asked, sitting down in front of the computer with the boy in his lap. Jason turned and reached for the keyboard, so Bruce gently tugged him back, hugging him close.

“I forgot,” Jason said, which was proof enough he’d come down to be a pest and because he enjoyed taking flying leaps at Batman’s head. “Bruce, come upstairs and read with me!”

He had work to do, three active cases and a request from the Justice League, but he found himself standing, putting Jason on his feet and nudging him towards the stairs up to the manor. “Go ahead, Jay. I’ll get changed and come find you.”

“If you’re not there in fifteen minutes I’m gonna paint the batsuit pink!” Jason yelled, footsteps loud on the staircase.

Well, Bruce thought. At least he had fair warning.

He passed by a particular drawer on the way to the showers, unable to resist letting it catch his eye. He didn’t stop, this time, but later he would sit down and take out the journal and papers that were, essentially, Jason’s last words. Maybe, one day, he wouldn’t feel the need so frequently.

Until then, he could use the reminder.

***

Nightwing held his fist out towards Batgirl, grinning when she gave him a fistbump before jumping on her cycle and taking off, back towards her solo patrol area. “East End is all clear. I’m going to head in unless there’s something you need me on, O.”

“It’s a quiet night,” Oracle replied. “Go get some sleep.”

Red Hood’s territory had always been an area that they had covered in their patrol routes; he had been in Gotham sporadically since his first appearance, and easy enough to work around once the family had reconciled. Now it was just…on a more permanent basis.

Jason had always kept his cards close to the chest regarding just how many fingers he still had dipped into the Gotham underworld, but there had been hints of an empire crumbling in the wake of Red Hood’s disappearance. They’d dealt with most of his safe houses, although Nightwing presumed that some would remain hidden, unknown to anyone but Jason himself, when he had access to the memories. Even now, Jason would occasionally scrawl an account number or address down that would turn out to belong to Red Hood.

It was about the most Jason would freely offer, the boy remaining cagey with details regarding what else he remembered or dreamed about. Dick had suggested he might have an easier time talking to a professional to work through the lingering issues, but Jason and Bruce had both balked at the idea. Still, it was a topic he’d have to bring up again once Jason was more settled.

Nightwing’s comm remained clear on the journey back to the manor, bar the occasional chatter of younger ones or Bruce’s rough, clipped words. By the time Dick left the Cave his thoughts were already going hazy with the promise of sleep. The murmuring of quiet voices detoured him to the kitchen, where he raised an eyebrow at the sight of Alfred and Jason, sitting at the small kitchen table and drinking hot chocolate. Well, Alfred was drinking. Jason looked like he was about to fall asleep in his.

“Nightmare?” Dick asked, already moving to sweep the drowsy child into his arms. Jason let himself be picked up, throwing his arms around Dick’s neck and yawning widely before burying his face against Dick’s shoulder.

“The young master seemed more perturbed than terrified,” Alfred replied, getting to his feet and starting to clear the mugs away. “He wasn’t making sense, but forgot the content of the dream quickly enough.”

Dick hummed, starting out of the kitchen and up to Jason’s bedroom. Jason was asleep by the time they hit the staircase and didn’t rouse when Dick tucked him back into bed, under the rumpled covers he’d thrown off when he’d decided to go bother Alfred instead of sleep.

“Night, kiddo,” he said, brushing his lips across Jason’s forehead, and then he could finally make his way to his own bedroom and flop down across it, barely managing the effort to get himself under the covers. If he was lucky, Jason would get distracted by the 3DS on the bedside table and let Dick sleep in the next morning.

The odds of him being that lucky were very, very low.

Dick didn’t find himself minding, though.

***

There were dozens of screaming children on the playground that afternoon. Artemis grimaced, turning her attention towards her own screaming child. He was being pushed on a swing by Bizarro. The Kryptonian now held a secret identity as his nanny (truly a bodyguard, although Bizarro fulfilled both functions equally), and more often than not could be found accompanying the child and the rest of the family around Gotham. The odds of Jason being kidnapped or injured while Bizarro was around were reassuringly low.

Biz Binks was still the most terrible name Artemis had heard in her life, but Bizarro had allowed Jason to pick it and the child’s mind would not be swayed from his decision. Bizarro seemed to like it, for whatever reason, and Artemis suspected he’d had a hand in the choice and was comfortable allowing everyone to give Jason baffled glances about it.

Jason looked up as she approached, launching himself straight out of the swing and running for her. “Arty! You’re back!”

“I’m back.” Artemis let him wrap his little arms around her waist and cling to her. Bizarro waved at her calmly, walking off to go offer his assistance to a child who had fallen and scraped their knee. “Have you behaved yourself while I was gone?”

“Maybe,” Jason replied, tugging at her arm until she finally acquiesced and bent down to let him wrap his arms around her neck in a hug. His hands delved immediately into her hair, but she’d stopped caring about it after he’d caked melted chocolate in it that one time. Children were messy, he was no exception, she had somehow been tricked into claiming him for her own and now she had to live with it.

Akila had not stopped laughing about it in the months since she’d met the boy.

“Are you staying at the manor?” Jason asked, and the eagerness was all too easy to pick up. Artemis had remained largely on the periphery of the family. Bizarro had committed to Gotham full time, with only occasional visits to his other family, likely due to his nephew’s fascination with him, but Artemis herself had chosen to stay mostly in one of Jason’s old safe houses, and not allowed the city to tether her despite her resolve to protect the child from the lingering threat of Circe. A certain amount of wanderlust had beckoned her away on various missions, although they had started to become less frequent.

She’d spent the last week away only wishing to return to him.

“I will,” Artemis said, brushing his hair back from his eyes. “I made a promise that I would not abandon you, little one. You do not have to worry that I will leave you.”

“Because you love me,” Jason said, and he sounded very sure of himself.

“Perhaps,” she replied, trying not to smile when he leaned up and kissed her on the cheek.

He’d always been able to see through her.

That much, at least, had not changed at all.

***