Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"This better be worth it," Dick said, almost bored, as he got out of the black car.

It was a foggy day in Gotham and the sun had risen only two hours ago. Many people were already working diligently, but not in this area of the harbor. It was in this area of the harbor that Bruce Wayne ruled. The ruler of Gotham's underworld, gangster king and Dick's father. And because Dick was now involved in the family business and was supposed to take it over, he was at the port at this hour waiting for Donny the Dagger to come and tell him why the revenues had gone down again.

The cue was that Dick had to wait.

People like him should never be kept waiting. And that seemed to make his bodyguards nervous.

"Stop looking around like you expect to be eaten by a lion," Dick rolled his eyes, "We are the fucking lion."

"Yes, boss," the men replied.

Dick could be nice. That's what he was known for. The cheerful one where you could never guess when he was going to pull out the knife. But he couldn't smile today. It was the first of April. His parents had been dead for six years now.

He hated anniversaries.

They reminded him of blood and screams and the worst day of his life.

Bruce had sent him here for that very reason. As a distraction.

Running noises brought him back to the present.

They were quick footsteps, echoing loudly in the open waterfront.

A child was running out of the fog. Straight towards Dick.

His men drew their guns and pointed them at the boy, who threw himself at Dick's legs and clutched them tightly.

Dick saw only his matted and dirty hair when he looked down. The boy's grip was weak.

Other men rushed out of the fog and froze when they recognized Dick.

"Get away from him," one of his bodyguards roared.

Dick growled, "Put down your weapons. It's only a kid, and if you shoot, you will hit me without a doubt."

The guns were lowered. His men were not stupid enough to disobey his orders.

Dick looked to the leader of the pursuers. Donny the Dagger.

"You're late, Donny."

Donny turned pale and pointed to the child. He pointed to the kid with the dagger in his hand.

A hideous thing that was only meant to look dangerous, but was totally impractical. And to be completely honest, it didn't look dangerous either, it looked like a prop in a pirate movie.

"That boy there is the reason for it. And also for the missing money. He stole from us."

The boy just shook his head against Dick's legs and pressed himself even tighter against him. The trembling increased, but the grip remained almost tentative, as if the boy was afraid to wrinkle the expensive pants.

"I was just going to kill him to make up for it."

Dick laughed out and the boy winced.

"Funny. I'd rather have my money than children's blood. And how stupid do you have to be to let a brat steal from you?"

Donny treaded uncertainly, "He's a street rat. They're crafty."

Dick looked down and pure coincidence would have it that the boy looked up.

The blue eyes were filled with fear. And he had a laceration on his forehead.

Dick could only imagine that he must have had a similar expression on his face years ago for Bruce Wayne to have picked him up.

Suddenly Dick could understand it. Taking a strange child into his home and heart had always seemed insane to him before. But now he could understand it.

This boy had come to Dick so that no one would hurt him again. He had made it Dick's duty to do so. Dick was responsible for this child and anyone who would harm a hair on his head would have to die. Slowly and painfully.

That was the way it had to be. That felt right.

"A street rat?" he asked, "Don't you have anyone?"

The boy saw his smile and twisted his mouth. But shook his head anyway.

Dick's grin widened, "You want to stay with me then?"

"Sir," Donny asked, horrified and confused.

The boy didn't answer and just pressed back against his legs.

"Who gave you that wound, kid?" asked Dick, "Was it those roughnecks over there?"

A faint barely perceptible nod.

"Kill them," Dick ordered.

His bodyguards started shooting and Dick covered the kid's ears.

Donny the Dagger had fucked up, but if he had asked for forgiveness instead of blaming a kid, he might have gotten out alive.

Dick led the kid to the car while the men removed the bodies.

"What's your name?" he asked in the silence of the car's interior.

"Jay," the little boy mumbled.

Dick grinned, "Nice to meet you, Jay. I'm Dick. It's a nickname for Richard. What does your nickname stand for?"

Jay looked at him as if he were gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"Don't treat me like a kid. I know what a nickname is, and I'm not stupid enough to tell you my real name."

Dick stopped smiling and immediately Jay relaxed. Huh. Apparently the kid knew that a smile was just a distraction. When you stopped smiling, you revealed yourself.

"Where was that fire just now when you were hiding anxiously by my side?"

Jay growled, "I wasn't scared. I just knew no one would shoot at you. You were my shield."

Dick's eyes warmed as he felt what he felt only for his family. Honest affection.

"That was really smart of you. Maybe Donny was right about you being crafty."

Jay looked down at the floor and pulled his sleeves over his hands. The red sweater was not only way too big, it was filthy.

"All I did was steal Donny's wallet. That's all. There was maybe a hundred bucks in there. That's all."

Dick laughed up, "Don't worry about it, the fucker's dead. Who cares what lies the dead tell."

There was silence as finally the bodyguards got in the front and waited for Dick to give the order to go.

"Were you serious?" asked Jay cautiously.

"Yes," Dick said immediately, "you're staying with me."

The boy looked up anxiously, "I don't want to be a criminal, though."

Dick shrugged, "You don't have to. I just need your loyalty."

And in time, maybe your affection.

For Dick didn't know what it was, but this boy was his little brother. He would protect him, come what may.

He could only hope that Jay would eventually see it that way, too.

To Dick's great surprise, Bruce said nothing when he brought Jay and declared that he should adopt him.

Alfred took one look at the boy and almost immediately retreated to the kitchen.

"Let's find you a room. Then you can take a bath while I pick out some old clothes of mine for you. We can always go shopping another day so you don't have to wear my worn out stuff."

Jay raised an eyebrow questioningly and looked down at himself: "Do I look like I'm picky?"

Dick shook his head, "No. Thankfully, not. I can't stand spoiled brats."

Jay muttered something quietly.

"What was that?" asked Dick.

From the way Jay winced, Dick could tell that the boy had certainly let loose something offensive. Dick was already looking forward to the day when the boy wouldn't hesitate to throw it right in his face without fear of the consequences.

Family was the most important thing. Family should never be afraid of other members.

Dick headed for the room next to his own and opened the door, "How do you like the room?"

Jay's jaw dropped: "It's bigger than my whole apartment was."

He squinted uncertainly up at Dick, who could only nod gravely, "Yeah. It was the same for me. I lived in a trailer with my parents. We shared a bed. It was cozy."

Jay pursed his mouth, "My dad would have let me sleep on the floor."

Dick took a deep breath. He hadn't even known Jay for a day and he was already this protective? It had to be that damn anniversary.

"You like the room?"

Jason nodded, "Yeah. It's tolerable."

Dick had to laugh.

Oh. When was the last time Dick had laughed on April first?

"Go take a shower. I'll get the clothes."

And, of course, the first thing Dick did as he rummaged through his old things alone was to call Barbara.

“Hey,” she answered cautiously, “How are you?”

Dick could imagine her mouth agape as it struck her how stupid the question was.

“Fantastic!” replied Dick.

Barbara took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. No need to get sarcastic.”

Dick laughed, “But I’m fine. Go through the port footage today.”

Dick heard only typing, then nothing for a while.

“Did you just kidnap a kid?” asked Barbara incredulously.

“Jay,” Dick introduced proudly, “I’m responsible for him now. As far as I’m concerned, he’s already family. You all just have to accept him.”

His tone was happy and painted a clear picture of what would happen if they didn’t accept Jay: It would make Dick sad.

Barbara sighed, “Because today is a special day, I won’t insult you, but you realize that you don’t even know his full name?”

Dick inwardly cheered, “Why do you think I’m calling?”

Barbara cursed, “I hate it when you play me like a fiddle.”

With that she hung up and Dick knew that in a few minutes he would receive a full name from Jay.

He used the time to dig out a red sweatshirt from the library that said “Reading is more than just words” and a pair of jeans. He even found some Snoopy socks and slippers.

Dick was about to leave his room when his cell phone vibrated.

Energetic and excited, he pulled it out. What was his little brother’s name?

He froze as he read the message.

Jason Todd. Works for BM.

Most people would have been furious by now. How dare someone take advantage of their generosity to betray them over Black Mask, of all things? These people would probably have stormed over to Jason and thrown him out into the night in his birthday suit.

Very few people would probably feel sorry for the little spy right away. They would bundle him up in warm clothes and then head for the nearest orphanage. Although they might have felt sorry for the little spy who was threatened by Black Mask, they could not forgive him for planning to betray them.

Dick Grayson was neither of these two groups of people. In fact, he was also very proud of the fact that you had to know him very well to predict his actions.

Dick almost automatically took Jason even closer to his heart because Jason impressed him.

When Jason had admitted in the car that he had only used Dick as a shield, this simple manipulation had pleasantly surprised Dick. But Barbara’s information changed everything. If Jason was working for Black Mask, that meant it had all been one manipulation. The moment Jason had admitted his manipulation, it hadn’t even occurred to Dick that it was a set-up.

Genius.

And even if the plan had come from Mask's pocket, the execution was entirely in Jason’s hands.

Jason had manipulated Dick, and Dick couldn’t help but respect his little brother for it.

And there was no need to kid himself. Someone with those talents would definitely become part of their family. Dick couldn’t let anything else happen.

Wrong, so he answered Babs. He worked for BM.

She was smart. She would understand that he would not give up on Jason.

And now that that was a done deal, he could tell Jason that he could drop the masquerade.

Or ... or he could return to Jason’s game and win.

Dick loved to win.

Dick knocked on Jason’s bathroom door.

“Yes?” it sounded muffled through the thick wood.

“Your clothes are outside the door. Take your time and then just come into the next room when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

Dick went back into his room and gathered various items.

Jason was standing in the hallway not ten minutes later, looking uncertainly through the doorway at Dick. The boy seemed positively drowning in his red sweatshirt, but the jeans seemed to fit quite well. Dick perceived how Jason had placed the collar so that Dick could see a handprint on his neck.

He was becoming more impressed with these manipulative skills.

“What happened to your neck, Jason?”

Jason got wide-eyed and pulled the collar up.

“Nothing.”

And then he froze, and Dick got perhaps his first glimpse of the real Jason Todd.

The boy’s eyes grew icy.

“How do you know my name?”

Dick laughed. “I have powerful friends. They find out all kinds of things.”

Come on, Jason, Dick cheered inwardly. Show me what you’ve got and don’t let on. But even if he reacted, Dick couldn’t blame him; after all, he had just let his own voice become very dangerous.

“I see,” was all Jason said, “So you don’t want the street rat anymore?”

“What?” asked Dick, honestly confused. What was the boy aiming at?

“I’m sure your friends have told you that I’m a petty thief and have no home. That I’m just a useless waste of time.”

The gaze went to the floor. Drooping shoulder. A little tremor in the voice.

Dick had been wrong. Jason was not a manipulation artist. He was a manipulation god. What mastery he just displayed, some people could only dream of. Even though Dick knew it was just a masquerade, he couldn’t help but want to comfort Jason.

Dick jumped up and pulled Jason into a tight hug. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry. You belong to me now, and no one is going to take you away from me.”

Dick meant every word, because if Black Mask wanted Jason back, Dick would tear him to pieces himself.

“Look,” Dick released the hug and pointed to the bed where he had spread out the various items, “Is there anything there for you?”

Jason cautiously stepped closer.

He pursed his mouth as he lifted the bear bedding. “You serious?”

“I thought you weren’t picky,” Dick said challengingly.

“I also told you I wasn’t a kid,” Jason said firmly.

“That’s right. You’re so grown up,” Dick nodded, “Survived the nasty, cruel world all by yourself. Then I’ll tell Alfred to take the white sheets that all the other adults get.”

Jason nodded gravely, as if Dick and he had just had a salary negotiation.

Jason moved on to the next item: a nightlight.

He frowned, “A lamp?”

Dick shrugged, “A nightlight, actually. But you’re probably too grown up for that, too.”

Jason kept the light in his hand longer and Dick could see the gears turning in the head.

“It’s a tactical advantage when you’re under attack that you can see more,” he mumbled.

“It’s a tactical disadvantage because your opponent sees you, too.” Dick wasn’t going to make it easy for Jason. As much as he wanted to give the boy everything he wanted, Dick had to test Jason’s limits. Was Jason willing to disagree with him?

“Yes,” Jason agreed, disappointing Dick. “But I don’t know the environment well enough. For now, the advantage still offsets the disadvantage.”

Dick beamed. This boy fit into their little family so well, it was hard to believe.

“Good choice,” he agreed.

The last item was a stack of children’s books.

Jason gently picked them up and stroked the covers.

Dick grinned teasingly, “I can read you something to fall asleep to, too.”

Jason looked at him sharply and dropped the books. “I can read and literature is too easy.”

“We have a library.”

Jay’s eyes lit up.

It was so sudden and gone just as quickly that Dick thought he’d lost his train of thought. But he knew what he had seen. His new brother seemed to be not a street rat, but a bookworm.

“You may take whatever you want to read out of this,” Dick said immediately, then. He didn’t have to include a test here if it meant the world to Jason. Even Dick couldn’t be that cruel, and he’d already drowned a man in pig’s blood once. Hah, Mister Pyg and the good old days.

“Honestly?” asked Jason.

The hope in his voice sounded fragile.

Dick nodded, “Yes. Honest. I’ll show it to you after dinner and you can pick out your bedtime reading.”

Jason positively beamed.

Dinner was awkward.

Jason literally inhaled the food while Dick chattered contentedly about trivia and Bruce looked at him angrily.

If Bruce had wanted to object, it was already too late now, Dick thought. He didn’t have to be in such a foul mood then.

“It tastes very good,” Jason commented as Alfred handed him a second helping.

“Thank you, young master...,” Alfred smiled.

“Jason,” Dick spoke up, “His name is Jason.”

“And I’m not a Master,” Jason frowned.

Dick had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the expression on his face.

“All the residents of this house are masters. Always have been, and they will be until I’m in my blessed grave.”

“Which I hope will never happen,” Bruce smiled. Familiar subjects always thawed him out a bit. And Alfred’s British stiffness was a subject Dick had trampled to death.

“Jason,” Bruce directed the word to the boy. The latter immediately winced and looked up in panic.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked immediately. “Did I eat too fast? Or the wrong way? I don’t understand what all the silverware is for.”

Dick smiled warmly. He had already noticed that Jason had reached for the cutlery that Dick had also chosen. The wrong cutlery, because Dick liked the small fork better for the main course, because then he had the big one left over for the cake.

“No,” Bruce’s tone warmed, “No one pays attention to etiquette in this house when we are among family. However, I need more information about you so I can prepare the adoption papers.”

Jason put down his fork. “You really want to adopt me?”

He sounded incredulous and not very pleased.

“Only if you want to,” Bruce said placatingly.

Dick looked up sharply.

“Only if he wants to,” Bruce said, turning hard on him.

And that wasn’t fair. Jason was his little brother. Dick had already decided that. He fit in with this family like a glove. And Bruce was going to give Jason the choice? That was crazy! If Jason had a choice, he could always go back to Black Mask.

That wasn’t supposed to happen!

Dick jumped up and grinned broadly. “It’s been a long day. Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I still have to show Jason the library, after all.”

Jay now jumped up as well and nodded eagerly.

Good boy.

Dick would like to think that his act rested from the fact that he liked spending time with Dick. But he probably just didn’t want to be left alone with Bruce.

“Dick,” Bruce admonished.

“Morning,” Dick growled back.

He saw Jason wince out of the corner of his eye, but he cared little.

Eventually, the boy was going to have to learn that Dick had an ugly side, too.

He walked around the table and took Jason’s hand in his.

“You’re going to love the library, Jaybird,” he said seriously, already looking forward to seeing those eyes filled with wonder.

Dick had had no idea how much Jason would love the library.

For the first time that day, Dick felt like he was seeing the real Jason Todd. Without a mask. Without deception.

A boy who marveled at the sheer volume of books.

He literally rushed toward the first best shelf and looked at the book titles with wide eyes. His fingertips rested a few inches above the spines of the books.

It broke Dick’s heart. It almost looked as if the boy was afraid of soiling the books.

“You may take whatever you want,” he said honestly, then, “I’m sure Bruce will be glad to see someone actively using this room finally.””

“They look precious,” Jason said uncertainly. “I don’t want to ruin them.”

Dick shook his head. “The works are all replaceable. Bruce has the first editions, dedications, and favorite books locked away in the book safe. These are fair game.”

Very slowly, Jason pulled one book from the shelf.

Dick stood there and just smiled reassuringly.

Briefly, he considered ending the game here. Leave Jason in the library to relieve Black Mask of his head.

The idea was very good and pleased Dick, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His brother would surely resent it if he were given the gift of victory.

“Are you looking for a particular book?” he asked instead.

Jason shrugged his shoulders.

“Sci-fic? Fantasy? Anything with knights?”

Jason pursed his mouth. “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. Ten?”

Jason just looked at him, aghast. “I’m thirteen, and even at ten, fairy tales are stupid.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of books about King Arthur.”

“Stupid,” Jason replied immediately, but there was something hidden in his eyes.

Dick couldn’t help but grin. “You have no idea who King Arthur was, do you?”

“Yes, I do!” said Jason flippantly, “A king.”

Dick laughed out, “You’re right about that. And don’t feel bad about it. Who cares if you don’t know?”

Jason blushed, “Me!”

Dick felt a little guilty. He shouldn’t have teased him, but sometimes he had a hard time seeing the boundaries. He’d make a joke and not always recognize when it stopped being funny to the other person.

“Start with that one,” Dick pointed to one of the works. “It had an appealing writing style. At least, I assume so because I finished it. I don’t really read normally.”

Jason nodded and took the book.

“If you don’t like it, you can pick something else in the morning.”

Jason nodded.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m all grown up,” Jason sighed. “I can find my own way.”

“My room is right next door. We’re definitely going together, because I don’t want to sneak up behind you like a creep.”

Jason just nodded.

And Dick knew he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep that night. He would have to stay alert, because Jason had something he wanted to be alone for.

This game was really exciting!

Five hours later, as everyone in the house lay there in silence, Dick heard Jason’s bedroom door slowly open.

Jason’s footsteps he did not hear. The boy was good.

Dick was better, because Jason didn’t hear him. But that was also because Dick had only left his door ajar to keep his ear open.

Like a shadow, he followed Jason downstairs to the far corner where there was still a landline phone.

Oh.

Dick hadn’t expected to feel betrayed, even though he knew who Jason worked for.

He could only watch silently as Jason dialed the number.

And then his heart decided to put an end to it all.

As fun as the game was, he couldn’t let Black Mask get his claws into his little brother again. This man had to be kept as far away from Jason as possible. If Jason could even hear his voice, it would be too much.

Jason belonged to them now! Jason belonged to him now!

“Who are you calling?” he asked, stepping forward so Jason could see him.

The boy’s phone fell out of his hand in shock, but he had already dialed.

Dick listened closely to the connection tone.

“Nobody,” it escaped Jason in a panic, and it was the stupidest lie ever. Dick could tell Jason felt the same way.

“I mean, friends. I don’t want them to worry.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You just thought of that at this hour?”

Jason nodded.

Dick lifted the phone and put it to his ear.

Jason blanched.

“Took you long enough,” it hissed from the receiver when it finally picked up.

Dick grinned, “Jason Todd belongs to the Wayne family from now on, Black Mask. If you so much as think about him, I’ll break those white biters you’re so proud of.”

And with that, he hung up.

He couldn’t stand Black Mask for long. Just one sentence was enough to drive him up the wall.

“You knew?” asked Jason, horrified.

Dick shrugged. “Only since your shower. Our family’s oracle is a genius and figured it out.”

Jason gritted his teeth and stretched his back. He braced himself.

“Then kill me. I know exactly what people like you do to traitors.”

“No,” Dick said immediately, “you’re not a traitor. You’re a manipulator. A good one at that. This time you were unlucky and got caught. Don’t fret over it. Practice makes perfect.”

“I don’t understand you,” Jason hissed. “What do you want from me? That I work for you guys? I told you I didn’t want to be a criminal.”

So this was the truth? Dick wasn’t expecting that. Disappointing, but he couldn’t force his lifestyle on Jason.

“I want you to be part of my family. Because even though it seems rushed, you’re already like a little brother to me.”

“That’s crazy!” said Jason firmly.

“Yeah, but give it a chance. You’ll never get a better life.”

And Dick could see in Jason’s eyes that he had won with that argument.

No fighter who desired retirement would turn down such a nice home and the prospect of a family.

“Just one miss and I’m gone,” Jason threatened.

Dick just smiled warmly and honestly. “Then I won’t afford to fail.”

Chapter Text

Tim was slightly nervous, but his Poker Face fit like a face mask.

His parents had talked to Bruce Wayne and given Tim the oppertunity of an "internship" at the company over the summer break.

Tim might have been happy about it if his parents hadn't put him up to spying.

He himself had great respect for Bruce Wayne and the empire he had built. And Dick Grayson? The man was a natural at anything that could be used at the job. Jason Todd wasn't in the business yet, but Tim was no fool. Anyone who underestimated a Crime Alley street rat (and he meant that with all possible respect) had only himself to blame for his fate.

His parents saw it differently.

His parents wanted to finally step out of the shadows and no longer be just the "unimportant side family." They wanted to get to the top, and in their minds, the best way to do that was over the Waynes' dead bodies.

Tim didn't think much of the plan, but he played along.

For the time being.

After all, this plan allowed him to learn from the best.

He straightened his tie and knocked on the door.

An unnecessary gesture where he had already been checked at the main gate, but Tim thought much of these power plays.

"We're not waiting for you," it seemed to say, though they were definitely expecting him. Tim didn't kid himself: They knew he was a spy. They just hadn't been able to refuse his parents' request without good reason.

The door opened and Tim blinked in surprise.

He had expected Alfred. Or another servant. Never in his life would he have thought that Jason Todd himself would open it.

The boy just glanced at him.

"Are you Dick's new errand boy?" he asked with a deprecating look on his face.

Tim was pretty sure Jason was just mimicking the facial expressions of all the rich people in Gotham as they shook his own hand.

"Yes," Tim confirmed without taking offense, "I'm Tim Drake."

"Can I give you a hint, Timmy?" asked Jason.

Tim bit his tongue to keep from screwing up his face at the name. Instead, he nodded eagerly.

"I'm asking for it, Mister Todd. I'm here to learn."

Faster than Tim could look, Jason's hands were on his neck. Only his parents' training kept him from flinching away.

But Jason hadn't attacked him. He just loosened his tie and tossed it into the nearby flowerpot.

"Loosen up and call me Jason. Mister Grayson is Dick to you. Those are the rules while it's just you and me. When it comes to business, you better get back to being a bootlicker. But here, it's almost an insult to keep up this act of an obedient Drake."

"Sir?" asked Tim, confused.

Jason laughed, "Are you telling me it's not a play?"

Tim let his whole posture relax and ran his hand through his hair to tousle it.

"It's not being completely honest, but I meant it when I said I wanted to learn something."

Jason nodded appreciatively, "Only the really stupid don't learn."

Looked like the Wayne family was going all out to surprise him. Tim could work with that.

Dick was just as friendly as Jason.

"You're cute!" was the first thing he said.

Tim pursed his mouth, "I'm not a toddler anymore."

Inwardly, he wondered if Grayson was just trying to see if he could provoke him. He wouldn't succeed, though.

"Be nice," Jason admonished, "Tim here just wants to learn."

Dick grinned, "Don't worry, Tim. You will. You'll be assigned as my assistant the whole internship and you'll get to see everything."

Tim smiled, "That's very kind of you, Mister Grayson."

"No," Jason immediately admonished, "When it's just us, it's Dick and Jason. Don't make me repeat that, again."

Dick pulled Jason close with one arm and tousled his hair.

"Jason here is going to be a teacher someday. He loves to admonish people. He does it to me all the time, too."

"Then maybe you should stop walking around with blood stains on your shirt," Jason pushed him away.

Tim had to smile. It would have been really nice if he'd had a big brother. That would have taken quite a bit of pressure off his shoulders, too.

The brothers argued until Dick's cell phone rang.

Jason screwed up his face and left the room.

"Work ringtone," Dick simply explained and picked up.

He didn't say anything, just listened. After thirty seconds, he hung up.

"Looks like you're getting your first study session today," he said with a grin.

Tim nodded and looked toward the door Jason had walked through, "Will Jason be there too?"

Dick's eyes twinkled with suspicion for a moment before becoming friendly again, "Jason is not part of the family business. You'll never make it an issue when he's around. If you do, I will sew your mouth shut. Have I made myself clear?"

Tim nodded, not intimidated. He was much more impressed. Dick's whole aura had remained cheerful. Like he was talking about ice cream or cake. It was an art, and Tim hoped he could pick it up himself as time went on.

"Good," Dick fluted contentedly, "Come along, then. There's an interrogation we need to do at the docks!"

As it turned out, "interrogation" was just a nicer word for torture.

Tim couldn't tear himself away from the spectacle for a second.

Dick Grayson was gifted.

First he introduced himself and tried to connect with the interviewee.

"So Tom is your name? That's a nice name. I like Tom and Jerry. Do you feel the same way, Tom?"

The chatter threw the interviewee off track, but he couldn't help but respond. And the longer it went on, the more he relaxed, even though he was tied to a chair in an empty department store.

Tim watched the full fifteen minutes as Tom began to a) like and b) underestimate Dick Grayson.

That was the moment when Dick asked in the same chatty tone, "Where did the shipment land?"

Tim could see Tom biting his lip at the last moment before he could automatically get it off his chest.

"Please tell me, Tom," Dick pleaded, "We were getting along so well. It would be a shame to ruin that now."

It sounded apologetic, but not pleading. Tim had a hunch that pleading would have worked better. However, it would also have done quite a bit of damage to Dick's reputation. No one followed a man who pleaded with his victims.

The only problem was that Tom overlooked any threat Wayne's boy posed.

He made the wrong excuse: "You won't get anything out of me."

He spat and it hit Dick in the collar.

After that, the torture began.

The execution of "carrot and stick" was as precise as clockwork.

Dick struck and shortly after stroked his hair apologetically.

His question repeated itself until Tom spilled the beans.

And then came the next question.

And the next question.

Until Tom had nothing more to say.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Dick smiled with satisfaction.

One command with a little hand gesture later, the men dragged Tom away, who started to plead.

"Tom will keep the fish company," Dick explained, "Or rather the trash. I don't think there are any living things left in the Harbor."

If Tim had not been a Drake, he would have made a eulogy now. As it was, however, he said nothing. Inwardly, he applauded. It was no wonder the Waynes kept themselves in business when they were so professional.

Dick looked to him and raised an eyebrow, "Questions? Comments?"

Tim smiled his friendly business smile, "You better change that shirt before you go home, Mister Grayson. Otherwise, you can expect another reminder from Mister Todd regarding blood on your shirt."

Dick looked down in surprise: "I should avoid that, thank you."

Funnily enough, it was that sentence that threw Tim off. It sounded honest. It sounded like Dick cared more about complying with Jason's wishes than getting the information.

Dick Grayson's priorities were strange.

Tim would never put his family ahead of his buisness.

Maybe the Waynes wouldn't be able to stay in business after all.

To be honest, the internship was everything Tim had imagined.

Even the work as an accountant was surprisingly fun for him. It was an art to cover the tracks in such a way that even the best policeman could not recognize a trace. It was an art he had mastered.

Probably that's why he enjoyed it. Not because he was good at it, but because Dick always praised him as soon as he saw his finished work.

"You're a genius, Tim!" he would exclaim enthusiastically, and shortly thereafter would take him out for ice cream with Jason.

Possibly it would make Tim feel like a child, but "ice cream" with people like the Waynes meant an entire sundae, which was also more artwork than food.

And it tasted pretty darn delicious.

It only lasted a week and already Tim was dreading the time when the internship would be over. He would still have time until then, of course. But life would never be the same now that he knew what it was like on the other side.

His old life, at his parents' side - or rather among them - no longer seemed so desirable.

Tim was a very patient person. He was also very polite.

The man who just stood in front of him made sure that Tim had to make an effort to remain polite and patient as well.

"Once again, Mister Taylor. I am very sorry, but you will have to be patient. Dick Grayson is having a conversation at the moment and does not want to be disturbed."

Possibly Tim should order an ambulance, for Mister Taylor's face was so tense that a vein would soon burst.

"Boy," he growled, "I hate to repeat myself, but apparently you have tomatoes on your ears. I've got a appointment."

Calm down, Tim, Tim spoke encouragement to himself.

"I'm aware of that, but something more important unexpectedly came up, so please sit in the chair and wait patiently for the Wayne brothers to finish their conversation."

To be fair, Mister Taylor's companions seemed more than willing to take advantage of the short break. Mister Taylor, on the other hand, clenched his fist.

"Are you telling me I have to wait because of a fucking street rat?" he hissed.

Oops. Tim probably shouldn't have blurted that out, but then again, Taylor would have seen who came out the door. So it wasn't a big mistake.

In fact, to be accurate, it might be a good one.

He dropped the smile and said firmly, "Maybe you should share that view with Mister Grayson once it's your turn."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Taylor snarled like a rabid mutt and charged past Tim, yanking open the large double doors.

His men followed reluctantly, and one had the decency to help Tim to his feet after Taylor knocked him off balance and sent him to the floor.

The office that emerged was old-fashioned, with two couches facing each other in front of a large desk.

Sitting on one was Dick Grayson. His hand was in Jason Todd's hair, resting his head in the older man's lap.

"What's the meaning of this?", Dick's eyes were dangerously cold.

"I'm sorry, Mister Grayson," Tim hurried to say, "I told Mister Taylor you were busy at the moment."

He tried to look remorseful, though honestly that was exactly what he had wanted to accomplish. Not this early, but he wanted to see Taylor burn. Chances were, he'd accomplished his goal with that.

Jason Todd straightened up, "It's okay. I can go."

His brother looked like he was about to say something, but Mister Taylor beat him to it.

"I think that's a good idea," he said angrily, "Best to go back to the gutter you came from."

The room froze.

Jason's face became a poker face, while Tim couldn't believe his luck. The man had just signed his death warrant. At least, if one could assume what Dick Grayson's Cheshire Cat smile meant.

"Jason," he said with a smile, "why don't you wait outside with Tim?"

Jason sighed, "Don't bother. I still have plans for today."

With that, the boy disappeared into the Manor while Tim took up position outside the office door again. He closed the door behind him.

"Does anyone share Mister Taylor's views?" he heard Dick's cheerful voice, through the small crack he had left.

Tim could literally picture the men shaking their heads, while Taylor grinned proudly to himself, oblivious to anything.

"No?" asked Dick in surprise, "Then please leave me alone with your boss."

The door swung open and every one of Taylor's men kept Tim company.

"Wait, where are you going?" asked Taylor in horror, but then the door slammed shut - for real this time and nothing was heard.

"What an idiot," one of the men muttered.

"Yeah," agreed another, "No survival instinct. But his money was good."

The money he only had thanks to the Waynes.

What people didn't understand was that the Waynes gave plenty, but could also take everything from you. They were the heads of the underworld and so was Jason Todd, even though he hadn't lifted a criminal finger.

"I think," Tim said soberly, "That you can go. You'll be contacted later."

The boys looked surprised when he spoke, but nodded rather quickly and disappeared.

Tim organized a cleaning crew.

The next time the door opened, Tim didn't even look into the room, just at his boss.

Dick Grayson was covered in blood and seemed strangely pleased with himself.

"Where's Jay?" he asked, confused. The missing men didn't seem to surprise him at all.

Tim looked at him in wonder, "Did you really think he was going to stay here while you killed someone on the other side of the door?"

Dick looked as if Tim had slapped him across the face.

"Oh," he said, strangely hollow, "I didn't think that would be a problem."

And what was there to say in reply? How could you explain to someone that their way of thinking was completely twisted? How could you explain it to Tim, of all people, who had just deliberately set a man up?

"I don't think your brother likes the family business," Tim said honestly about that.

"Yeah," Dick agreed, "But it's like a second skin to me. Shouldn't he be getting used to it by now?"

How would Tim know that? He had never had a problem with blood, corpses, and murder. And Taylor clearly deserved it.

"Besides, he was talking shit about my little brother," Dick continued almost defensively, "I couldn't let that stand."

Tim tilted his head, "Maybe Jason feels his pride was hurt that he had to be defended?"

That would be worth considering. Normal people, especially boys, felt that way, right? It certainly sounded right.

Dick seemed almost immediately pleased again, "Ah. Yes, that will be it. I'll apologize to him later and then all will be well again."

Tim had no doubt. These two brothers were as thick as thieves.

Tim was proven wrong.

No sooner had Dick apologized for committing murder than Jason threw a pillow at him.

"Jay?" asked Dick, confused, "I apologized."

And it had been a damn good apology, Tim had to admit. Emotional people would probably have shed a tear.

"But you're not sorry for the murder," Jason laughed out. It sounded to Tim as if the boy himself didn't know how to feel.

"No," Dick admitted, "But I'm sorry you're displeased. You're angry with me, and I don't like that. So you can't forgive me?"

Jason groaned and dropped his head into his hands, "You always do this! You do something completely wrong, don't understand what's bothering me about it, and then you apologize. As if apologizing would solve anything! And I forgive you just so we can have the same conversation in a week!"

"I did something wrong?" inquired Dick, confused, "He had to die, Jay. The things he said about you..."

"Were just words!", Jason interrupted him, "I've heard worse. That shouldn't have been his death sentence. You're deciding life and death like it's a game, but we're talking about real people here!"

Dick's expression darkened, "It only takes one moment of weakness and it will be exploited to destroy this family. I'm not going to lose another family. Don't ask me to do that."

And with that, the older of the brothers stormed out of the room.

Tim stood stupidly in the room, feeling redundant. Feelings were so confusing. He didn't really want anything to do with them.

Jason suddenly stared at him pleadingly, "Please tell me you see Dick is completely off base."

Tim kept his Poker Face because otherwise he would have laughed in Jason's face. After all, he stood with Dick one hundred percent. Jason was the unreasonable one here.

He packaged that opinion more politely because he didn't need anyone overhearing him insulting Jason by accident.

"No. He's right," he said simply, "And if you'll allow me, I'd like to give you a hint. You shouldn't look down on your family's business like you're something better. Maybe you are better, I don't have the right to judge you, but I don't think Dick or Bruce deserve that."

Jason stood there as if he had been slapped in the face, and Tim took that as his cue to leave the room.

The tensions in the Wayne household faded.

Instead, his parents asked him about everything.

Tim told them everything that had to do with the business. He left out of his stories of the quarreling among brothers and, in general, Jason's "soft-heartedness."

He may have been a spy, but he was still loyal to the Waynes. They knew what he was. And yet they welcomed him. He would return that kindness.

His parents were very unhappy and sent him to bed without supper or applied other punishments.

These punishments were for children and Tim didn't feel they were bad. Especially the part where they sent him to his room and didn't talk to him anymore was pleasant. He could stand their stupidity even less by now, where he had seen that it could be done differently.

So he lay in bed and dreamed about his internship.

"You know, Tim," Dick said one evening when they were alone in a little shack in Arson Alley. Where alone was a broad term. There was Dick, Tim, and Frank, the dead man who had owned this house.

Frank had made the mistake of blabbing some secrets to Brown. Tim didn't know who Brown was (yet), but he could safely assume that Frank had screwed up.

It could hardly have been worth it if you ended up dead while a boy half your age staged your suicide to be judged by his mentor.

If Frank hadn't made it so hard for Tim to comply with this activity, he might even have felt sorry for him. But the guy had an apartment that literally screamed: "I love life itself". Conceivably inconvenient and troublesome, because Tim now had to make everything gloomy.

When Dick broke the silence, he was in the process of forging the suicide note. Accordingly, he would have expected criticism.

What Dick was about to say he would not have expected in a thousand more lifetimes.

"You know, Tim, if you'd like, I could make all the arrangements for Bruce to adopt you, too."

Tim wheeled around to face him, not knowing what to say.

"You'd make a fantastic Wayne," Dick talked on, unperturbed, "And I trust you with Jason's life, which to me is the highest level of trust there can be. I'd love to have you in my family."

Warmth encompassed Tim's heart.

Being wanted was a great feeling he hadn't often felt.

But now that he was a Drake, he was still thinking pragmatically.

"My parents are still alive. I can't be adopted."

The corner of Dick's mouth lifted in amusement, "That's not a problem I can't solve."

"No," Tim hissed, surprised himself by the energy and anger behind that word. A glance at Dick told him he felt the same way.

"No," he repeated more calmly, then, "These are still my parents we're talking about here."

"Business comes before family. Isn't that your motto?"

Tim winced. Dick had been right. Of course he had.

"They're still my parents."

I love them didn't cross his lips because he didn't know if it was true.

"Okay," Dick said gently, "Then I'll wait until they die of natural causes and ask you again."

Being wanted was really a fantastic feeling, but now it was mixed with an uneasy gut feeling.

Tim pushed it away and set about getting on with his work.

A week later, Bruce Wayne summoned him and his sons to his study.

He asked them all to sit down, but looked only at Tim.

"I'm sorry Tim," he said softly.

Tim's heart suddenly skipped a beat and he wasn't used to that at all.

"I don't know how to say this, so I'll make it quick: your parents were in a fatal car accident and both passed away."

Tim's heart stopped.

He nodded, "Okay."

The rest of the world blurred. He roughly caught someone leading him out of the room by the arm and then sitting him on a sofa, wrapping him in blankets and talking to him steadily.

Something warm was shoved into his hands and slowly the world came back.

Tim was alone with Jason in the living room.

"Hey," the boy said softly.

Later, Tim would not be able to remember exactly what Jason had said. All he knew was that it helped. It helped get over the shock. Over this great and unexpected emotion.

It helped and that was a good thing. Because Tim couldn't even comprehend what he was reacting so strongly about.

His parents had been his parents.

But that was it.

They had never connected more than that.

And now that would never change.

The Waynes had let him stay overnight and when he came for breakfast the next morning, they were already waiting for him.

They ate in silence, with Jason putting things on Tim's plate over and over again. Little things so he would eat. Tim obliged him, even though he had no appetite.

"I've talked to Dick," Bruce cleared his throat, "And if you want it, I'd be willing to take you in. You're a young man with many talents and I'd love to have you in my family."

Dick smiled happily as Jason's fork fell out of his hand.

Tim just frowned, "Before I make my decision, I have one more question."

"Please, go ahead," Bruce nodded.

"Do you have anything to do with my parents' deaths."

The question was cold and precise, sweeping the room like a whiplash.

Jason's eyes widened, while Dick's eyes grew sad and Bruce immediately shook his head.

"No," he said firmly, "If that were the case, you wouldn't be alive either."

Tim nodded. That made sense. Never leave someone alive who could exact revenge. That was the biggest mistake anyone could make.

So it had just been bad timing for Dick to get his way now.

Because he was getting his way. How could Tim turn down this life when it was all he could ever dream of?

This was his dream!

"Yes," so he smiled politely, "I would love to be part of this family."

Dick cheered, Bruce smiled, and Jason put another strawberry on his plate, though he didn't look happy.

So this was his new family, Tim noted with surprise. He already liked this new family better than his last one.

Chapter Text

Stephanie was about to burst.

Her life had turned into a nightmare over the summer vacation. To be fair, it hadn't been good before, but no one could deny that it had gotten worse.

The thing with Mum, the thing with her 'father' and then the death notice from her best friend's parents.

Her best friend who wouldn't answer his damn cell phone no matter how many messages she left.

And now here she was, standing outside the gate to her school, waiting to intercept him. To pull him into a hug so that he would forget all the pain he was undoubtedly feeling.

She would have loved to inform him of her problems too, but she wasn't that selfish. Steph did need someone to talk to, but she was a good friend and Tim had priority.

She kept looking and froze when she finally spotted Tim.

Jason Todd had an arm wrapped companionably around her best friend's neck and, laughing at a joke, they walked past her.

Tim didn't even notice her.

By the first lesson, she had got over the shock.

It helped that Tim had saved her a seat next to him.

“Hey, Steph,” he grinned at her.

She wanted to pull him into a hug, but immediately realized that he didn't want her to. Not when they were surrounded by classmates who liked nothing better than to gossip.

“How are you?” she asked instead. A moment later, her mouth tightened. He had lost his parents four weeks ago. How was he supposed to be doing?

“Fine,” he took her breath away instead, ”Why do you ask?”

Steph must have looked like a goldfish, but she could only stare at him in disbelief.

“Because of your parents?” she asked incredulously.

Something like guilt flitted across his features. But it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“I'll survive,” was the only thing he could add before Mr. Harris had to interrupt their conversation with his math lesson.

Stephanie wasn't absorbing any of the material because all her hair had stood up.

Tim had never been generous with his emotions before, but this was a new record.

Steph couldn't help but think that even a corpse had more emotions.

As soon as the bell rang and everyone started talking, Stephanie was immediately at Tim's side.

“You haven't responded to any of my messages.”

It sounded reproachful and that was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. It wasn't as if she and Tim were together. He didn't owe her an explanation. But they were friends, after all. So yes, he owed her exactly that. An explanation! And it better be good!

Tim looked at her with a guilty smile: “I'm sorry, Steph. I've just been so busy.”

“With the funeral?”

It was pretty cruel. She knew it was and she hated herself for it. But she needed an emotion! Just an emotion that would show her that her friend was alive and not a talking corpse.

He only blinked.

“No. Mr. Wayne took care of that for me. I was at the internship by the Waynes and it exceeded all my expectations.”

And there they were: emotions.

Tim was happy about a job when he should have been grieving over his parents.

Stephanie didn't want to tell anyone how to grieve, but that didn't sound healthy.

And then there was the name, Wayne.

The very name she'd been cursing since the beginning of summer vacation.

Damn the Wayne family!

They had to split up for the next class, but Stephanie was with Tim as soon as the dinner bell rang.

“Shall we eat together?”

She didn't even know why she was asking. They always ate together. Ever since they had shared a frog in biology class three years ago.

“Sorry, Steph, I already have a plan with Jason.”

And there he went. Ran away from her and towards a fucking monster.

So this is what a broken heart felt like.

The rest of the week was no different.

Tim no longer behaved like Tim, but like a stranger.

He was polite and nice, but he only seemed to notice her out of the corner of his eye.

Tim had never once asked how she was doing.

And when she found out from the tabloids that he lived with the Waynes and had been adopted, she realized why.

They had dug their claws into her best friend and wouldn't let him go.

Just when she thought she couldn't hate the Waynes any more, they had stolen Tim from her.

She watched Tim get into a limo with Jason on Friday and drive away.

It triggered a sense of finality in her that threatened to engulf her if she stood still.

So she took to her heels and ran. Ran away all the pain and her problems.

And when there was only the wind in her hair and the hard ground beneath her feet, she made a decision.

The Waynes could keep all of Gotham down, but not Stephanie Brown!

Over her dead body!

The Monday after her decision was only worse.

She was overtired and hadn't done any of her homework. She had been far too busy researching the Waynes for that.

It didn't help that Tim barely noticed her.

So it was no wonder she was more than irritated.

She actually hissed when someone bumped into her in the hallway and her books scattered across the aisle.

“Can't you watch it?” she wheeled around.

Jason Todd stood in front of her and slumped his shoulders guiltily.

“I'm really sorry about that, Stephanie,” he said sadly, ”Let me help you.”

While he bent down to pick everything up, Stephanie stood there transfixed.

He knew her name? How did he know her name?

Jason fucking Todd held the books out to her, “I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to.”

She snatched up her books and smiled hollowly, “I'm sure that excuse is used a lot in your family.”

He backed away as if he'd been hit and Steph marched past him, satisfied.

It wasn't until ten minutes later that she cursed herself. She had just openly shown her hostility. That had been anything but clever.

If she had hardly stood a chance against the Waynes before, her chances were even worse now. At least Jason had been warned now.

Why had the idiot had to bump into her?

What a load of crap!

What she had never expected, however, was that Jason Todd would turn up at her door step.

There had been a knock and when she looked through the peephole, there stood Jason fucking Todd.

He wasn't wearing his school uniform, but jeans and a red hoodie.

Almost immediately, she grabbed a knife and hid it inside her own hoodie.

She wondered if she should just pretend no one was home.

Another knock.

“Please open up. I just want to talk!”

Yes, that was clear. But cowardice wouldn't help her here.

So she opened the door and stared at him angrily: “How did you get my address?”

“Tim had it saved in his phone.”

“And where is Tim?”

“He doesn't know I'm here.”

Of course he doesn't. Surely her friend wouldn't stand idly by if the Waynes murdered her. Would he?

And would Jason murder her? Her blood would certainly be hard to see on the sweater. She couldn't imagine the boy getting his own hands dirty, though. People like him had henchmen for the dirty work.

“Can I come in?” Jason asked.

No, Stephanie wanted to say. Instead, she stepped aside and watched as Jason sat down unsteadily on the sofa.

“Nice apartment,” he said, ”Do your parents still work?”

Anger boiled up inside her.

“Don't talk about my parents,” she hissed.

Jason winced: “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit a nerve.”

Stephanie laughed derisively and it was a sound that even to her ears sounded more like despair.

“Don't pretend you don't know what your family has done.”

Again, there was guilt in Jason's gaze before it turned steely.

“That's why I'm here,” he said firmly, ”I want to know more about what my family does. Your comment at school ... you seem to know more than I do.”

Stephanie must have looked like a fish, the way her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You're one of them!” she yelled.

“No,” Jason said firmly and she saw his hands clench into fists, ”I'm not in the family business. Never have been.”

And yes, that was consistent with what Steph had found out so far. She just hadn't believed it until now.

She couldn't help but frown, “That's almost worse. You're looking the other way.”

Jason winced again.

It surprised her how much power her words had over him. It had never occurred to her that she could hurt one of the Waynes so easily.

“I don't want to look away any longer,” Jason said seriously and looked her in the eye, ”Please help me.”

She saw only sincerity in his gaze and didn't know what to say.

“This isn't a trap, Stephanie. I just want to know who my brothers and my father really are.”

Steph dropped powerlessly into the armchair opposite.

One word had drained all her strength.

Brothers.

“So the Waynes have corrupted Tim. He's one of them now. So I really have lost my best friend.”

She would only realize later that from that moment on, she no longer counted Jason as one of the Waynes.

Jason's gaze wandered and became unspeakably sad: “I think he's always been like that. His parents made him what he is. He just doesn't bother to hide it from you anymore.”

Stephanie would like to deny it, but when she thought back, there were many moments when she was afraid of Tim.

The frog that was sliced open without hesitation.

The way he had blackmailed bullies in the school playground.

Whenever he had explained to a teacher why his school grade should be one grade higher.

The moment he had seen the bruise on Stephanie's cheek. He had looked at her so clearly and announced that her father should no longer be alive that it still gave her nightmares.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jason tried a tired smile, ”He really likes you. When I asked about his friends, he only listed you. He sounded genuinely fascinated by you.”

“Fascinated?”

Jason shrugged, “The way I see it, that's as close as he gets to love.”

They sat like that in silence for a while before Stephanie finally found the energy to stand up.

“Tonight. Eleven o'clock. Gotham Harbor. In front of Warehouse Three. Wear black.”

Jason frowned: “What are we up to?”

“You wanted to know what your family's doing. I intend to show you. Unless you've changed your mind?”

And there was that steely determination in his gaze again.

“No. I'll be there.”

Stephanie had no doubt about it. She just hoped she hadn't put her trust in a mole.

Jason was on time and he was wearing black.

Stephanie had pulled her hood low over her face and was lying in wait with Jason on a corrugated iron roof.

“What are we doing here?” Jason asked again.

Stephanie wondered where the Waynes thought he was and whether they even cared.

“We're waiting. I've gotten good information about what's about to happen.”

“And you didn't inform the police?”

“That wouldn't do any good. The corrupt bastards would just deliver me to the knife instead of doing their job.”

The fact that Jason didn't disagree told her she was right.

So far it had only been a theory, and now that it was true, Steph suddenly felt alone in her fight against the Wayne Family.

The boy's presence at her side didn't help.

An hour passed, in silence, before a truck finally arrived and goods were unloaded.

“Drugs?” asked Jason.

“Guns.”

Was this better or worse for the choirboy? Something in Stephanie would have liked to rub more salt in his wound. She was just so angry.

But not angry enough to jeopardize her cover. Picking a fight would be stupid.

“It's Butcher Ben,” Jason whispered suddenly, sounding worried.

That was all the forewarning Stephanie received. In another life she would have squeezed her eyes shut, but at that moment she might have wanted to punish herself. Or maybe she wanted to remind herself why she had to take action against the Waynes.

Butcher Ben lived up to his name as he hacked the supplier of the goods to pieces.

The images burned into Steph's eyes, even though the darkness made it much harder for her to see.

Only when everyone had left again and the harbor lay there in silence and darkness did she stand up, trembling and wanting to kick Jason.

“You wanted to know what your family was doing? Just that.”

Jason looked up at her and she knew he hadn't learned anything new.

She also knew he hadn't gotten the info he was looking for.

Oddly enough, it took the wind out of her sails more than it fueled her anger.

“I'll see you at school tomorrow,” she said instead, leaving Jason on the roof.

A dark part of her wished he would freeze to death and another part hoped he would help her.

No one could say Stephanie Brown wasn't a complex character.

The next day, she saw Jason and Tim together in the corridor as usual.

The only difference was that Jason suddenly said goodbye to Tim and went to her.

If Stephanie hadn't been so perplexed by this, she might have enjoyed the disbelief on Tim's face even more.

(And why couldn't he believe it? Because Jason dumped him? Or because Jason dumped him for Stephanie?)

“What are you doing?” she hissed at Jason instead.

The ass just raised an eyebrow, “What, you think Tim is going to connect a conversation between us to nighttime activities at the docks?”

“Possibly,” she hissed back. If there was one thing she hated, it was being underestimated.

Jason laughed and Stephanie saw exactly how a few girls (and a few boys) looked enviously at them.

“He's much more likely to assume I want to sleep with you or offer to tutor you in English.”

Steph blushed automatically, but she also knew how to cover up weaknesses. It was one of the few things she was forced to learn around her father.

“I don't need tutoring!”

Jason shrugged, “If you know a better reason why we can meet, then I'm all ears.”

The bell rang and Stephanie grabbed her thing from the locker and hurried.

She still took the time to bump Jason's shoulder and mutter “ass.”

And if all of Jason's books came hurtling down the corridor, then it was just poetic justice.

At the next opportunity, Tim stood by her and looked at her expectantly.

“What do you want?” she glared at him angrily.

It scratched her ego that she was only interesting enough for him now that she had something to do with a Wayne.

“Jason told me he was tutoring you.”

“Yeah,” she intensified her scowl.

Tim didn't seem to notice, but Steph knew he just didn't care.

“Why didn't you ask me? I could have helped you too.”

Steph laughed. She couldn't help it. It was mean and spiteful and so far removed from her happy laugh that even Tim now realized he had vastly underestimated the impact of her emotions.

“My grades are good in English.”

Wow, Tim really was an idiot.

“That's not the point!” she hissed instead. She hated that she couldn't stay calm. Now she looked like one of those hysterical women she hated so much on soap operas.

But there was no other way. She had to let out every emotion she had for Tim to have any semblance of understanding what was going on inside her.

“You ignored me the entire vacation and even now we barely talk. I could hardly assume you'd help me when your every action makes it clear how little time you have for me!”

It had been different before. At least she had felt like she was a part of Tim's life. But maybe that had never been the case.

“I'm sorry about that,” Tim said. It sounded sincere, but Steph could see in his eyes that he meant it, but didn't feel that way. He felt no guilt.

She trembled at what this boy could do to Gotham.

And she knew that she could never be his friend again, which broke her heart. Now she had no friends at all and was all alone in this world.

But better alone than with a psychopath.

Only her heart would have to understand that.

“I need distance from you,” she ended the conversation and left Tim standing there.

A small part of her hoped that he would fight for her. The rest of her knew that she wasn't important enough for him to lift a finger to save their friendship.

When had she become so replaceable to everyone in her life?

When Jason visited her this time, Steph let him in straight away.

“Are your parents not home again?” he asked in surprise.

“Still none of your business,” she grumbled, but this time she even got him a glass of juice to drink.

Jason was visibly surprised, but thanked her anyway.

After all, he was polite.

“Now spit it out.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Why are you really here? Yesterday didn't surprise you and it certainly wasn't the insight you were hoping for. You're after certain information. I'm not an idiot, Jason, and neither are you. I don't believe for a second that you haven't heard a thing about your family's business for years. In fact, you've probably been more aware of it than they realize.”

Jason swallowed and avoided her gaze.

Stephanie remained silent. She had learned the tactic from her mother. Hardly anyone could cope with silence. It was another way to get everyone to talk.

“I've noticed a few things,” Jason admitted, ”It would be impossible not to notice, because Dickie forgets so often that he's soaked in blood, as if it's something that can be forgotten so easily.”

Steph screwed up her face. She could just imagine the sadist grinning as his face was covered in blood splatters.

“And you're right: there is something I need to know.”

Steph couldn't help but lean forward expectantly.

Jason took a deep breath and then looked deep into her eyes.

“I need to know if Bruce is responsible for the Drakes' car accident.”

Steph flinched, startled. The thought hadn't even occurred to her.

Jason laughed humorlessly, “Yeah, I didn't think about it either until Tim asked Bruce directly. I know my family and it never occurred to me that they would be capable of something like that. That was the moment I realized how much I've had my eyes closed lately.”

Steph frowned, “What did Wayne say?”

Jason shrugged, “He denied it. The scary thing is, I can't tell if he was telling the truth or not.”

Steph bit her lip as she thought. If she could prove that Bruce Wayne had ordered the murder of the Drakes, then not only would he go behind bars, but she might be able to get Tim back on her side. Then only Dick would be a problem, but Jason could probably take care of that too.

So when you got right down to it, helping Jason helped her.

“All right, Jay. I'll help you.”

Jason's eyes grew wide and gratitude swam in them.

“Really? How?”

Steph grinned, “How do you feel about a little break-in at the police station?”

Jason looked at her like she'd lost her mind, but somehow that just made her laugh.

Soon the Waynes would be history!

As much as she had sometimes hated her father, he had taught her tips and tricks that proved useful when planning something illegal.

She didn't feel guilty about that. She was doing the right thing, but the law saw it a little differently. Fortunately for her, her conscience didn't care about the law.

She threw firecrackers into a trash can outside the precinct and watched as everyone ran out.

Steph and Jason snuck in through a window on the other side.

After that, it was only a matter of seconds before she had picked the lock to the archives and they could pull the door shut behind them.

“You're really good at this,” Jason whispered.

“Why do you sound surprised?”

Stephanie didn't wait for an answer, but set off in search of the file.

Luckily, the cabinet in question was labeled with a capital D for Drake.

She pulled it open and started rummaging around while Jason kept an eye on the door.

“You can save yourself the trouble,” she hissed, ”If it opens, there's nothing we can do.”

Jason frowned: “Then why did you take me with you in the first place?”

Steph rolled her eyes, “You're clever. I'm sure you'll figure it out for yourself.”

Jason just seemed confused until his eyes suddenly widened, “If we get caught, it's both of us, not just you.”

“Bingo,” Steph popped the word and pulled out the file with satisfaction.

Jason looked over her shoulder.

Steph hadn't expected that.

“This isn't the car accident file,” she said in surprise.

“No,” Jason agreed and took it from her hand to leaf through it.

“I didn't know the Drakes were criminals too,” Steph gulped. The file was so thick that they must have been pretty big bosses.

“Yes, they were,” Jason was unsurprised before he reached the last page. The surprise was so clearly visible on his face that Steph became curious.

“What is it?” she asked, ”Does it say anything about their murder?”

And that, of course, was exactly the moment when the door was ripped open and two policemen stormed in.

They both sat in the commissioner's office and were stared down.

Stephanie had a feeling they'd both be in handcuffs, too, if Jason wasn't a Wayne.

“Your father's on his way,” he'd growled when he'd stepped into the room and hadn't attempted conversation since.

“What about her parents?” Jason had wanted to know.

“They're dead,” Stephanie answered for the Commissioner.

She was surprised at how little she was feeling at the moment. She should be scared stiff, but she wasn't. This was the end and she would go down gracefully. It was the only thing she could control.

Jason stared at her in horror, but Stephanie just stubbornly looked straight ahead. She certainly wasn't going to pour her heart out to him while Gordon sat in the room.

It was only ten minutes before Bruce Wayne knocked and stepped into the room.

He and Gordon shook hands before the Commissioner left the room, leaving Stephanie alone with a monster and the monster's son.

Both she and Jason stood up. While Steph leaned against the table, Jason seemed unsure whether to stay beside her or go to his father.

Wayne made the decision for him by stepping closer.

His expression was poker-faced and Steph didn't know if he was angry, disappointed or happy.

But it didn't matter, because the man only had eyes for his son. She was just an annoying fly that didn't need any attention. Nothing had ever made Stephanie so angry.

“B,” Jason began.

Wayne interrupted him, “What were you thinking?”

It didn't even sound accusatory. It was an honest question, but Jason winced. Maybe Bruce was angry after all, only Stephanie couldn't read it. That, or Jason didn't want to tell the truth. Probably the latter.

“I needed clarity,” Jason mumbled.

It couldn't get any fuzzier than that.

Something flashed in Bruce's gaze before he finally turned to Steph.

“Did she make you do it?” he asked coldly.

Talking about Steph as if she wasn't in the room.

“Steph had nothing to do with it. I made her help me. She's innocent!” Jason defended her.

Steph took advantage of the moment when Bruce turned back to his son to stab him with the letter opener in her hand.

The metal didn't hit Bruce.

It didn't hit Bruce because Jason had stepped in with wide eyes and held her hand back.

“What are you doing?” he yelled.

She hadn't expected him to react so quickly. Nor had she expected him to choose Bruce over her. Why? Was she that naive? What was a few days of friendship compared to years of fatherly love?

But it didn't matter. She was angry too.

All her hatred and anger sent her glaring at Wayne, trying to break free.

“Let go of me! He deserves it!” she screamed, ‘He's to blame for my parents’ deaths! HE deserves to die!”

Jason looked awkwardly from her to his father.

Wayne's gaze, on the other hand, softened.

“The only reason your father is dead is because Brown meddled in things that were none of his business. His own curiosity killed him.”

“Fuck you!” she yelled, ”He didn't deserve to die, no matter what an ass he was! And my mother certainly didn't.”

Bruce frowned: “I had nothing to do with your mother's death.”

“Bullshit!” she shouted out her frustration and grief, ”She died because she couldn't cope with his death. If he was alive, she'd still be alive too!”

Jason managed to remove the letter opener from her hand and let go.

Almost immediately she wanted to lunge at Wayne, but Jason held the letter opener against her throat.

His hand didn't tremble, though his gaze avoided hers.

“I don't want to hurt you, Steph,” he breathed softly, but in the quiet room he could be heard just as clearly as if he'd shouted.

“If you don't do it, your daddy will do it for you,” she hissed back.

Jason shook his head and looked at Wayne: “You can't do that.”

“He can do anything,” Steph promised, ”He's done almost everything.”

She would never forget the look Bruce gave her until the day she died.

It was cold and empty, like that of a corpse. She had the feeling that her fate was in the hands of a dead man.

Student killed in car accident

The student, Stephanie Brown, was the victim of a fatal car accident last Saturday. After closer investigation, the police believe that the brakes were broken. The possibility of third-party negligence has been ruled out.

“The car was already old,” confirmed a mechanic, ”It shouldn't have been sold at all.”

The school's memorial service will take place next Monday.

Stephanie laughed sarcastically and dropped the newspaper.

Leslie had brought her the newspaper from Gotham. Stephanie didn't know why. Presumably so that Steph could get closure on the whole story.

But she couldn't do that.

Not even here, in Africa, on a humanitarian mission.

Gotham was in her blood and her blood boiled with anger at Wayne.

Wayne had paid her to keep her mouth shut and never return to Gotham.

But eventually she would find her way back and avenge her parents. But until then, she was content to learn from Leslie.

This wasn't the end of Stephanie Brown, no matter what the papers said.

Chapter Text

To Jason's credit, Bruce waited until they were back at the Manor to ask his questions.

However, that was also the place where the entire family - consisting of Dick, Alfred and Tim - were waiting for them and stared Jason into the ground. Bruce had filled them in on the situation on their way to the manor.

The comfortable atmosphere of the blue room didn't help against Dick's reproach in his eyes.

The double-cushioned armchair didn't protect him from Tim's disbelief.

And Alfred had set his cup of tea down in front of him with a clink, which made it quite clear how shaken the man was.

But worst of all was Bruce's tiredness.

It felt like Jason had messed up again, which wasn't fair considering Jason had never messed up before.

“You got caught breaking and entering?” Tim asked incredulously.

Dick threw a pillow at him: “That's not the problem! He was investigating us!”

His brothers were criminals and not right in the head, but Jason was still sorry that he had let them both down.

Bruce cleared his throat, “Basically what your brothers want to know, what we all want to know, is what was your purpose?”

Jason swallowed.

Bruce had just paid Stephanie off generously and put her on a plane. So he deserved an honest answer. Especially after what he'd read in the Drakes' file.

So he looked up and looked at Bruce. He wanted his father to know he wasn't lying.

“I just had to know if you had anything to do with Tim's parents' accident,” came quietly but firmly from his lips.

“Jay,” Dick cried out in horror.

Tim just shrugged his shoulders: “I was wondering the same thing.”

But he hadn't cared enough to investigate. It was better this way.

“I honestly tried not to despise you guys and the business,” Jason continued, ”You all respect that I want nothing to do with it, so I figured at least I didn't have to hate it. Tim made that clear to me. But then his parents died just after Dick couldn't talk about anything other than adoption? That was suspicious, Bruce! And as hard as I tried, I had to know the truth about that, because I couldn't have forgiven it.”

Bruce just looked at him sadly, “You could have asked, Jason. I never lied to you.”

Jason winced and shook his head.

“I couldn't take the risk. I'm sorry, Bruce. I never planned for this whole thing to end so badly as it did.”

There was a brief silence, then Alfred added sugar to Jason's tea. A peace offering.

“What did you find out?” Tim asked.

Jason winced. He really didn't want to say.

Dick also leaned forward curiously, “It was just a car accident, as far as I know.”

Bruce had his poker face on again, which was proof enough that he knew the truth and had kept quiet.

Tim frowned: “You want to protect my feelings. I don't like that. I'd rather you treated me like an adult and were honest.”

Because you don't have feelings that could be hurt either, Jason thought, but didn't want to put that to the test either.

Bruce opened his mouth and Jason shook his head. Bruce shut his mouth again.

Tim looked like he was about to throw a pillow, while Dick's foot started twitching.

Dick didn't like being left out.

Jason sighed and nodded to Bruce. If they absolutely had to know, then he wouldn't be the bearer of bad news.

Bruce looked at Tim and said, as if reading out a report: “The police have been investigating your parents for years and have only been able to gather solid evidence in the last few years. I suspect that an informant in the public prosecutor's office warned your parents that they were about to be arrested. They fled abroad and faked their own deaths.”

“Without Tim?” Dick asked, horrified.

Bruce nodded.

Jason saw the same anger in Dick's eyes that he felt.

Tim, on the other hand, just nodded: “That sounds like them. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

Jason flinched. He had expected a cool aloofness, but was still surprised. As much as he liked Tim, the guy gave him the creeps, sometimes.

“You're not angry?” Dick asked, disturbed.

“Business is above family. That was their motto. They lived by it and I have a better family now. So in the end, we all got what we wanted,” Tim was clearly indifferent to the matter.

“They left you...”

“That's enough,” Bruce interrupted Dick.

Dick nodded, but clearly no longer understood the world.

Jason looked to Bruce with a queasy feeling, “What's my punishment?”

Bruce seemed surprised and looked for help at Alfred, who skillfully turned his back to him.

Bruce pinched his nostrils.

“When Dick wrecked the Ferrari, it cost me about the same as the thing with Miss Brown now. I think the same punishment is only appropriate.”

“That wasn't my fault,” Dick complained, ”I had to wreck it after the idiot bled all over the upholstery.”

“Then you shouldn't have decapitated him in the car,” Bruce shook his head firmly.

“What was the punishment then?” asked Jason anxiously.

“No parties for a month,” said Dick and Bruce as if from the same mouth.

Tim frowned: “Jason doesn't go to parties.”

It was Jason's luck that at least one of his brothers loved him, because Dick pushed his chest forward indignantly: “He better, because he's not allowed to for a month now.”

Bruce also nodded seriously and contentedly.

It was also Jason's luck that Bruce had never learned how to be a strict parent.

He had to smile. His family were criminals, but they only wanted the best for him and he also knew that nothing would ever happen to him as long as they were there.

A week later, he realized that something could happen to him, even if he was part of the Waynes.

The world was black and consisted of pain.

Throbbing. Seething. Pain. Pain. Pain.

Jason didn't know where it started and where it ended because his whole body was on fire.

Only slowly did it subside, giving Jason the chance to open his eyes.

Darkness surrounded him.

It was a disappointingly long time before he realized that a sack had been put over his head.

In the past, he would have jumped to his feet and run away. But he had become gentle. Why fight when you had a brother who would jump into any fight for you? Why stay on guard when you had a grandfather and a father who fulfilled your every wish? Why stay in training when you could spend time with your little brother instead?

Jason wanted to jump up now too, but the fear wouldn't let go of him.

He couldn't see anything and didn't know where he was or who had taken him.

Did his kidnapper know he was awake?

Jason squeezed his eyes shut and thought. Something that wasn't helped by the headache.

He had been riding his motorcycle, but had been hit from the side. By a van? No. Yes. Maybe.

It didn't make sense. All Jason knew was that it hadn't been an accident and he was lucky to be alive. Not every motorcyclist could say the same.

Jason almost laughed when he thought about how reluctant Bruce had been for him to ride a motorcycle. “Too dangerous,” had been his words. Dick had never told Jason that Bruce didn't know about Dick's motorcycle. The coward hadn't asked permission.

“Up and at 'em, little rascal,” sang a raspy, high-pitched voice, ”The sun is laughing, but not as much as me.”

The laughter that followed was the worst sound Jason had ever heard.

The laughter was a parody of joy itself.

As if someone had taken everything ugly in the world, put it in a blender, drank it and vomited that laughter out.

Jason felt sick to his stomach, but possibly only because of the head injury and the sudden light as the bag was pulled from his face.

He saw the face of his captor and wished for the bag back.

It was Joker.

Jason had never liked Joker, but he was one of Bruce's best men. Sometimes he was even sent on a job before Dick, which ensured that Dick didn't like Joker either.

Bruce swore the man was just eccentric and did good work.

But Jason had never gotten rid of the feeling that Joker wanted to be around Bruce too much and too often.

The green hair, the white make-up and the broad red grin didn't help to make the man seem likeable.

Especially not now, with saliva hanging off his chin from laughing.

“Are you surprised to see me?” asked Joker, seemingly on the verge of another fit of laughter.

Jason growled, “Bruce will never forgive you for that.”

Jason slowly sat down in a more comfortable position, wondering where the restraints were. What was this?

But he wasn't stupid. Jason had noticed the weapon in Joker's hand immediately.

One well-placed blow from that crowbar and Jason would be back on the ground.

Jason sat on his knees as Joker finished laughing, which had started immediately after his statement.

“You must have had a clown for breakfast,” Joker grinned, leaning on the crowbar as if it were a walking stick.

“No, Jaybirdy. You'll find that Bruce will thank me for this favor.”

“Favor?” Jason asked, confused.

As long as Joker was talking, he was safe.

But it was also curiosity. Because deep down, Jason had never gotten rid of the voice that promised him that he wasn't good enough for anyone. Especially not for his family.

“Yeah, favor,” Joker agreed, ”You'll realize you're making Bruce weak. The Brown Bitch would be dead if it was still the old Bruce. But you've sucked on him like a tick and taken everything that made him special and strong and beautiful. Now he's already sparing little girls!”

Jason grimaced. The guy exuded madness not only in his tone but also in his atmosphere. You could almost taste it on your tongue. It tasted like burnt dye.

“So I've found a solution: The tick has to go!”

The Joker's eyes lit up.

Jason knew that the Joker was about to strike. Until Jason was dead.

Something inside Jason clicked.

The iron was warm and slippery in his hand because it was soaked in blood, but Jason wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

He struck it.

Again.

And again.

He could still see white skin.

But it was all going to be red.

Red!

The bum had wanted to kill him, but Jason was a fighter.

Always had been.

Even though he had been asleep, he was awake now and Joker's body wasn't broken enough yet.

Jason struck and a flap of skin flew through the air.

A hand came down on his shoulder and Jason shook it off to let the iron crash into Joker's teeth.

They were going to be just as ugly and broken as the clown himself.

Jason couldn't tell how many more times he'd struck before the rest of the world regained color and tone.

“Jay?” a voice asked, ”You're hurt, little brother. You should get some rest. His body's not going anywhere.”

Jason looked up from Joker in confusion and straight into the blue eyes of Dick.

Dick just looked worried. Not disgusted or afraid. If anything there was pride swimming in his eyes.

“He's not dead yet,” Jason said quietly. His voice was hoarse.

“Yes, he is,” Tim said.

Jason whirled around. Tim was leaning against a wall and snapping photos of Joker. Of the corpse?

Jason looked back at the body. He was dead.

“I'll just send evidence photos to Bruce,” Tim explained, ”Then he can call off the search and send a cleanup crew over.”

Jason frowned and dropped the crowbar.

“He tried to kill me,” he muttered.

“He didn't succeed,” Tim said firmly.

Dick, on the other hand, kicked Joker in the soft parts: “And he'll never hurt you again.”

Hurt. That was right.

Jason was still hurt.

No sooner was Jason aware of his own broken bones, bruises and aching limbs than his entire circulatory system collapsed and unconsciousness overtook him.

Jason groaned when he woke up.

Not because he felt pain, because thankfully it had been suppressed by painkillers.

He groaned because even in his half-awake state he could tell that he was in Dick's arms.

“Go to your own bed, you octopus,” he gave Dick a shove.

The fact that he actually fell out of bed only proved that his big brother had actually been asleep too.

Someone laughed.

Jason opened his eyes and saw Tim grinning at Dick.

“I told you Jason doesn't like that.”

Jason let his gaze drift away. Bruce smiled at him and Alfred checked the medication.

Dick stood up, sulking.

Jason was in his room at Wayne Manor, but there was no doubt that someone had medicated him and the Joker hadn't been a dream.

“You were mostly bruised. The concussion is getting better, but should still be taken with a grain of salt,” Alfred gave a report.

Jason saw exactly how darkly his family reacted to this, while Jason couldn't believe his luck. Motorcycle accidents usually turned out much worse.

Alfred took his leave for the kitchen. No doubt to avoid having to play mediator.

Jason's eyes went to his father. He knew and would decide what would happen next.

Bruce looked like he was about to break down.

“I'm so sorry, Jason,” he breathed, ”I trusted the Joker and you had to suffer for it. That should never have happened.”

“You couldn't have known,” Jason muttered, and he meant it.

Of course he would never have trusted the madman himself, but Bruce couldn't blame himself for wanting to trust people. Everyone needed friends.

“I need to be prepared for anything, though,” Bruce disagreed, ”I'll double-check all the rest of my people.”

“I'm happy to help,” Tim agreed, ”I barely know them yet. My view is more neutral.”

Jason almost automatically listened away, as he always did when it came to business.

But here he couldn't stay out of it, because it was about him. This was about him!

Almost looking for help, he looked at Dick, who was beaming at him.

“You should have seen yourself, Jaybird,” Dick fluted, ”You were so fantastic. Every punch was powerful and devastating. You've always been a fighter. I have no doubt that the Joker never stood a chance against you.”

“Your stamina was really remarkable,” Tim intervened, ”Most people stop after two blows. With you, it was probably ten times that.”

Jason could literally see it in front of him.

Blood. Body parts. His own euphoric grin.

He felt sick.

And that was exactly what made the decision easier in the end. He had always been close, but now there was no way out.

Jason looked at his father again, because it wasn't just his father, but also the head of the Wayne family.

“I need to get out of this business. For good.”

The mood immediately changed. Silence spread and Jason didn't have to look at Dick to know that he was about to shake Jason.

Jason used the silence to organize and share his thoughts out loud.

“The Joker accused me of making you weak. That I want to make this family weak. And that's true. Dick himself once said to me that all it takes is one moment of weakness and they'll pounce on us. That's exactly what happened. You spared Stephanie because I asked you to, and that was the price you paid. I don't want to leave this family, because it's my family. But I'm almost afraid I'll have to, because you can't separate the family business from you and I'll drag you down.”

“You could go into the business too,” Tim said coldly and tonelessly.

“No,” Jason contradicted immediately, ”I really can't do that.”

The image of the Joker was all too clear in his mind. The image of the dead Joker.

“You can't leave us,” Dick breathed.

Jason winced but dared to look at his brother.

The sight was made for a horror movie. Dick's gaze was full of murderous lust and the rest of his face was blank.

It was always bad when Dick stopped smiling.

“That's enough,” Bruce intervened and all eyes went to him.

Bruce looked at Jason and smiled weakly: “I agree with you. The way we've done things so far has led to problems.”

“What?” hissed Dick.

“Enough,” Bruce barked again, ”I agree with Dick too. You can't leave us. Not completely. You mean too much to this family for that.”

Jason frowned. What then? What else could they do?

“Jay, you'll always be a Wayne, but I think it's better if you move out and get on with your life with less contact with us. We'll keep you out of the business completely. Not even talk about it around you. But you'll come to every single Sunday dinner. You come to every family event.”

Jason looked at him helplessly, “This will make you look weak.”

Bruce eyes were steel, “Anyone who has a problem with that will soon have bigger problems. Besides, I can portray it as a reward for your services against Joker - a traitor. That way, everyone gets what they want.”

“Not me,” Dick cried out, ”I don't want to see Jaybird just once a week. That's not fair! He was my brother first and your son second. I should have a say!”

Bruce was visibly annoyed.

Tim cleared his throat, “You're going to have to manage being both a brother and a criminal, Dick. As long as you visit Jason as his brother and not as the heir to the Wayne family, everything should be fine.”

“And of course we'll pay for everything for Jason,” Bruce added, ”He'll want for nothing.”

Dick looked incredulously from one person to another and finally to Jason.

“I don't want to leave you completely, Dickie. This option is better than I feared.”

Jason's heart broke as he imagined a world without his jerk of a big brother.

“Okay,” Dick breathed, ”But I'll visit you every day.”

Jason smiled. He had no doubt that Dick meant it sincerely.

But he wasn't getting his hopes up either. The transition would be difficult for everyone.

It was hard.

Jason was living alone for the first time, but Dick was almost always there for the first few weeks.

Until the business started to suffer and the visits became less frequent.

But as long as Jason was still at school, he at least saw Tim regularly.

And Jason never forgot a Sunday dinner.

The problems only really started when Jason was admitted to college.

Jason briefly toyed with the idea of leaving the city, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Gotham was his home. He couldn't leave even if he wanted to.

His whole family was there to congratulate him on his graduation.

Dick took him aside that evening and handed him a key.

“What's this?” Jason asked, confused.

“The key to my apartment. If you ever get into trouble, you come to me. Even if it's just the bad cafeteria food.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but pocketed the key carefully. He knew that not even Bruce had a key to Dick's apartment because Dick treasured his retreat. Even if he hardly used it.

“It's just college,” Jason said with a grin, ”I've survived worse.”

“As if Dick could understand that,” Tim joined in, ”He got kicked out.”

Dick was offended, Jason laughed and Tim was surprised that he had said the wrong thing.

It was business as usual.

After that, contact diminished almost to the point where Jason only got to see someone on Sundays.

College was exhausting and Jason avoided every invitation from Tim to one of the company parties. It wasn't part of the illegal family business, but it was anything but exciting.

He met Cassandra Cain at a Sunday dinner.

She sat on the chair as if she were part of the furniture and looked at him expectantly.

“This is Cass,” Bruce said, ”She's your sister since yesterday.”

Jason took one look around the room.

Tim was already grabbing the bread, while Dick proudly pointed to Cass.

“Isn't she cute?”

Jason looked to Alfred for help.

“Miss Cassandra had some helpful information against Cain and Master Bruce took her in as protection.”

Jason shook his head, “I don't even want to know.”

He sat down in his usual seat and smiled at Cass.

“Nice to meet you, Cass. I'm Jason.”

She nodded seriously.

Cass visited him more often than the others did. She came and went as she pleased.

He read to her until she left again.

Sometimes, when she was in a good mood, she danced for him.

No one said it, but Jason had the feeling that Cassandra wasn't in the family business either.

However, she was even more family than he was.

He had almost completely detached himself from his family, although that was exactly what he had wanted to avoid at the beginning.

It was just harder to respond to messages and attend Sunday dinners.

Duke Thomas came a month after Cass.

Jason found out about him through a message from Bruce asking him to actually come to Sunday dinner this time to meet him.

Jason was too curious to refuse.

He liked Duke immediately.

Duke wore Gotham like a second skin and was as jumpy as Jason had been at first.

Jason pulled him aside at the end of the meal.

“You're family now. You don't have to be afraid of anyone anymore. They'll protect you.”

Duke avoided his gaze as he replied, “I feel like a dog that got adopted because it's cute.”

Jason laughed, “I know the feeling. I felt the same way, but this family takes people into their hearts way too quickly and once Bruce signs the papers, there's no turning back.”

Duke nodded and walked away.

Jason sighed. It wasn't his job to convince Duke. The others would have to do that on their own.

Two years had passed, but Jason was still dreaming about the Joker.

Every time he woke up, he remembered why he had stayed away from his family.

He dreamed of blood and breaking bones.

He dreamed of a life he held in his hands.

He dreamed of the triumph that overcame him because he was stronger than his opponent and everyone could see it.

He chiseled it into his opponent's body as a message.

Jason dreamed of the best moment of his life and woke up happy.

The feeling of happiness quickly mixed with self-loathing and disgust.

He couldn't possibly go to his family, because they would tell him that everything was right with him. That it was right to feel this way about a murder.

And it wasn't.

That was exactly why Jason had to stay away, because he was too much like his family and if he gave in one more time, he would end up a criminal like his father had been.

And if there was one thing Jason had sworn to himself, it was that he wouldn't become like Willis Todd.

Chapter Text

Jason nervously tapped his foot as he waited on the sofa in his big brother's apartment for him to finally come home.

Jason shouldn't be here.

No, that wasn't true. Jason was allowed to be here. He was allowed to spend time with his brother. But right now, he didn't want to talk to Dick Grayson - octupus hugger and best big brother in the world - he wanted to talk to Richard Wayne.

Richard Wayne. The lieutenant of mob boss Bruce Wayne. Psychopath and not above getting blood on his hands. (In fact, Dick seemed to enjoy it, but Jason didn't want to think about that).

This was exactly the person Jason needed right now.

It was exactly the person he had left behind. Hell, he'd left that whole life behind. He shouldn't be here.

But he was.

The door swung open and Dick stepped in, whistling. He simply tossed his jacket and shoes to the coat rack without looking. His eyes were only on Jason.

Dick could whistle as much as he liked, but Jason could feel how all his attention was immediately fixed on Jason.

“Jason,” he grinned and sat down opposite him, ”are you here to kill me?”

Jason rolled his eyes. His brother's sense of humor often left something to be desired.

“Then I wouldn't be sitting here like this,” he replied.

Dick's smile widened: “You broke into my apartment. What should I assume?”

“I've not. You gave me the key.”

Dick's smile fell, but his eyes warmed. They were no longer cold and searching for weakness, but almost loving. At least as loving as it was possible for him to be.

“You really used it?”

Jason nodded. It wasn't a big deal, but he'd realized early on that Dick could become enraptured by little things that no one else found important.

“How are your studies going?” asked Dick. It was all Dick Grayson now. Not a trace of Richard to be seen. Dick - in fact, everyone in the family - had become very good at separating business from their interactions with Jason. So good that sometimes there was nothing left to say and they just let Jason talk.

Jason swallowed and looked into his brother's icy blue eyes, “That's why I'm here. I need your help.”

Dick could have joked now that he didn't understand a word of literature and wasn't much help. But he didn't. Although Dick could be inattentive to some emotions, he was surprisingly good at reading his siblings.

Reading how tense Jason was.

“Anything, Little Wing. Just say the word and I'll do it.”

That was the problem. Anything Jason would ask for was not within the moral boundaries of his brother.

“My Contemporary Literature professor has to go,” Jason said firmly, trying not to think about what those words meant.

Dick raised an eyebrow: “I thought you'd turned your back on the family business for good.”

Not a question. A statement.

Jason looked at him and he knew Dick could see the panic in his gaze.

“I did, Dickie. I'm just asking my big brother to take a problem out of my world.”

Dick nodded, “Consider it done.”

He exhaled in relief and stood up to hug Dick. It was awkward because Dick was still sitting, but the way Dick was pushing back, he probably didn't mind.

Jason tried to pull away, but the arms stayed. Locked him in as if they were restraints.

“Dick?” he asked, confused.

“What did he do?” Dick whispered in his ear, ”Because we both know you wouldn't ask me to if he would only stop you from progressing to the next semester.”

His brother had smelled blood. There was no fooling Dick. If there was anything corrupt anywhere, his nose could find it.

“He invited a few of my fellow students to his office. To talk about their texts in depth.”

Jason didn't elaborate any further. He knew that Dick understood. But Dick still didn't let go. If anything, he squeezed harder.

“Did he ask you too?”

“Today,” Jason admitted, ”I didn't show up.”

Dick finally let go of him and grinned at him.

“Don't look so glum, Little Wing. You'll wake up in the morning and there won't be a problem anymore.”

Dick really didn't miss a beat when it came to his family.

Jason nodded, but couldn't bring himself to say thank you.

He had a horrible feeling that this action had been a mistake.

But it was still better than the alternative. If he hadn't sent Dick, he would have killed the professor himself. The blood was still boiling in his veins and his fists wanted to feel flesh and blood.

But, no. That wasn't who Jason was and that wasn't who he wanted to be.

The problem just had to go away and Dick would have tackled it anyway if he'd found out about it. And somehow Dick would have found out for sure.

Tim wasn't thrilled that Dick turned up at his apartment. Covered in blood.

“Ruin my sofa and I'll steal yours.”

Dick laughed: “My sofa doesn't even fit in the room.”

Sadly true. But Tim was creative, as they both knew.

“I'll think of something.”

Dick only grinned even bigger and put a blanket underneath before sitting down. It was always pleasant to talk to Dick because Tim didn't have to pretend. He didn't have to pretend to be a nice and good student. No, with Dick he was Tim Wayne, genius and accountant of the Wayne mob. Dick respected him and Tim respected Dick. It was pleasant.

“Aren't you going to ask me whose blood this is?”, Dick almost sang.

Tim looked up, surprised and slightly alarmed.

“Just asking me that question means I know the person. Please tell me you haven't murdered your hairdresser again. It's not Harry's fault you can't sit still.”

Dick laughed out again, which was a definite no-no if you spoke his brother's language. Dick laughed a lot. It was the persona he liked to present to the world. When he got serious and stopped smiling, you had to watch out. Then something happened that was important.

But this... Dick's whole posture screamed at Tim that this was even more important.

“Whose blood is this?” asked Tim. If he wanted answers, he had to play by Dick's rules.

“From Jason's professor,” Dick said proudly and for the first time that evening his smile fell.

Tim's breath caught and his eyes widened.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted. That was bad. That was really bad. If Jason found out about this, he would never come to the family meatings again. And those were the only moments Tim had left with Jason.

But Dick's eyes sparkled, which meant that Tim had reacted exactly as Dick wanted him to. Tim could crunch numbers and calculate situations, but Dick knew how to play people like a violin. Which was ironic, considering Dick didn't understand emotions any more than Tim did. Dick was a master of manipulation. How else could he fool Gotham into thinking he was the perfect playboy and golden boy?

Tim had fallen into one of his traps.

“What aren't you telling me?” Tim asked resignedly, because he hated it when people played games with him. Especially when it came to the family.

Dick leaned forward as if he wanted to share a secret and his eyes sparkled. They looked like a child opening presents. Something really good had happened today. The only question that remained was whether it would also be a joy for Tim or just work.

“Jason asked me to kill his professor. He's coming back, Tim. He's coming back to the dark part of our family.”

And that ... no. That was definitely not going to happen. Jason still considered them family, visited them, but he certainly wanted nothing to do with the mob. Had never wanted to be part of it and, unlike Dick, Tim had long since accepted that fact. Tim often had the impression that Dick still saw the little criminal he had stolen from Black Mask back then. Dick couldn't separate Jay from the Jason of his imagination.

“What exactly did he say?” asked Tim next, because he needed to know all the facts if he was going to save this mess.

“He asked me to get his professor out of the way.”

Tim nodded. Okay. At least Dick hadn't gotten the murder order wrong. That was a good thing, because Tim couldn't bring the dead back to life. The biggest problem had been solved.

“And did he say afterwards that he wanted to be part of our criminal family, or what made you think that?”

Dick's eyes hardened a little, “Why don't you believe me?”

“Because I know Jason,” Tim was merciless, ”I hardly think he'd ever want blood on his fingers again.”

He'd been far too distraught for that after what happened with Joker, the wanker.

Dick looked down briefly, “He said he still doesn't want to be part of our illegal activities.”

“There you have it,” Tim was satisfied. And confused. So why had Dick assumed the opposite?

Crap. Dick's eyes were sparkling again. Tim had walked into a trap, again. He was slowly losing his patience.

“Can you please stop toying with me and get to the point? I hate it when you anticipate my reactions just so you can have a laugh.”

Dick laughed and didn't apologize. His big brother was a bastard.

“Spit it out!”

Dick finally took pity, “Jason meant that his professor would molest students. That fact would have been enough for me to kill him. Shit, I would have even done it, for no reason. Jason knew that. But I asked him if the professor harassed him too.”

Tim's eyes grew wide, “He didn't, did he?”

The very idea made anger boil in the pit of his stomach that he hadn't felt for a long time. Strong emotions usually avoided Tim like the plague.

Dick shook his head: “No, don't worry. But the interesting thing is that Jason said the professor had intended to do it. But when I paid the dear man a visit, he admitted during the 'interrogation' that he had only molested female students.”

Tim tilted his head.

“Jason lied so I could kill the professor extra brutally.”

The gears started rattling in Tim's head.

Finally, he looked at his big brother's hopeful face and had to smile honestly.

“You're right, Dick. Jason might actually have changed his mind about our methods.”

Dick was briefly surprised, but then pulled Tim to his chest.

“Provided we do it right,” Tim added.

Dick grumbled in agreement.

Tim could hardly believe it. Soon their little crime family would be complete again.

That would be the best thing for everyone and what was wrong with a little manipulation within the family?

Jason had a knot in his stomach.

His professor hadn't turned up for the lecture and that was a good thing. He could literally see Melissa and Annie breathing a sigh of relief.

Jason should be relieved too, instead he was anxious. He still wanted to kill someone and now the outlet was gone.

And then there was a family dinner coming up today and he hadn't warned Dick to keep it quiet. Which meant that the whole family probably knew by now. A whole family that would talk to him about the murder he would have preferred to carry out himself.

He had to show up anyway, but the closer the dinner drew, the more uncomfortable he felt.

When he finally rang the doorbell at the Manor, he felt almost nauseous.

Alfred opened the door with a smile and waved him in.

“Your brothers are in the drawing room, Master Jason,” he said gently, ”I have to see to the food. I'm afraid it will take a while. I've had a lot to do with the garbage today.”

Garbage. Jason knew exactly what that meant and he didn't dwell on it.

“I don't feel much of an appetite today anyway,” he smiled apologetically.

“Are you ill, my boy?”

The concern in Alfred's eyes was genuine. Apart from his attitude of murdering family enemies, the man was like any typical grandfather. Jason loved him. But right now the worry was annoying him more than helping him.

“It's nothing,” he mumbled, ”I'm going to the others.”

Duke played the piano, ignoring the fact that both Dick and Tim shared a secret that they hadn't let him in on.

That never boded well, so he tried to distract himself.

Cass had joined them in the meantime and was now dancing to his music. The little ballerina of the family certainly knew that something was wrong, but she didn't let on.

Duke played the final chord and Cass took a bow.

Applause rang out from the door.

Jason stood there, smiling a forced smile. He looked pale, which worried Duke slightly. Jason, like Duke, knew his way around the streets of Gotham. They were tough. So what could have spooked his older brother?

“You're getting better and better, Duke,” Jason said, ”And you Cass were perfect as always.”

Others would have been miffed. But others didn't have a sister with the body control of a goddess. If Cass ever aspired to a professional career in ballet, she would get the lead role without her father having to produce a convincing argument (read: death threat).

Cass sent a kissy hand to Jason and Duke grinned gratefully at him.

“Not feeling well?” he couldn't help himself though.

Jason shook his head: “Everything's fine.”

His gaze flitted unobtrusively to Dick and Duke wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching Jason so closely.

So that was what Tim and Dick were hiding. Jason. That wasn't good at all. It would lead to chaos.

Duke finally felt at home in the family, but he had learned an unbreakable rule from the beginning and had taken it to heart: Jason was kept out of the family business.
The same rule applied to Cass, with the difference that at least they could talk about it in Cass's presence.
Duke himself liked being part of the business. It gave him a position of power that meant he would never again be one of the weak and helpless. The family was a nice bonus.

Dick stepped up to Jason, pulled him into a hug and whispered something in his brother's ear that made Jason's eyes widen in surprise. And almost immediately, the tension was gone from his bones.

That wasn't good at all.

However, it wasn't Duke's place to interfere in his brothers' machinations. He was still too “young” in this family for that.

So all that remained was to sit back and watch the spectacle.

All that remained was to hope that it wasn't a tragedy.

“Relax,” Dick whispered in Jason's ear, ”The others don't know about your professor.”

Dick had to admit that he didn't enjoy seeing Jason so tense, which is why he relieved him of it as soon as possible.

It simply reminded Dick too much of Jason's early days, when his brother had flinched at every little thing. At first Dick had thought it was another attempt at manipulation, but Alfred had quickly explained to him that Jason was simply afraid of Dick. Since that day, Dick had done everything in his power to ensure that no one in his family ever had to be afraid of him.

“I won't tell them anything unless you want me to,” he continued to whisper in Jason's ear.

His brother shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Dick hoped Jason would never find out that Tim already knew. He didn't like lying, but it wouldn't have done anything for Jason's state of mind in this situation.

The dinner bell rang and Dick gave Jason's shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze before following the delicious smell of Alfred's lasagna with the rest of his siblings.

Tim had explained at length to Dick why they would have to slowly and patiently entice Jason more and more with the good side of the family business over the next few months.

He had explained at even greater length why quick and rash actions would push Jason away (perhaps this time for good).

Tim was one hundred percent sure that he had made one point in particular: don't push him in front of the rest of the family.

Accordingly, Tim was disappointed in his big brother when he realized at dinner that Dick hadn't listened to him and had just blown all his good guesses out of proportion.

“Cindy asked about you the other day, Jay,” Dick beamed at Jason.

The whole table froze and looked at Dick as if he'd gone mad.

Jason choked up.

“She's doing great because no one dares touch our ladies from the corner, but she and the others miss you.”

Tim would have liked to scream.

Instead, Duke intervened.

“Could you pass the cheese, please, Dick?” he asked.

Tim was spiteful enough to be pleased that not only was his advice ignored by Dick, but Duke's hint as well. Dick handed over the cheese and just carried on talking blithely.

“And I couldn't help thinking that you could just walk by. They've always liked you best of all of us and they'd love it.”

Tim kicked Dick's shin, which he ignored. Asshole.

“I'm sure you miss them too. After all, you've always protected them and made sure that they get fair working conditions. You can't tell me that you have no interest in ensuring that everything continues to go right?”

“Dick,” Bruce warned sharply, ”we're not talking about the family business at the dinner table.”

Dick looked up innocently, “Who's talking about business? I'm just telling Jason about old friends of his.”

Bruce set his glass down a little too loudly.

Finally Dick shut up, but it was too late.

Jason had already pushed his chair back and Tim felt the anger slide off him like water off a stone.

“Excuse me, I need a smoke.”

Tim could have beaten Dick to death.

Jason had to light the lighter several times before he could finally light his cigarette. His hands were shaking with anger.

He should have known.

He didn't even know whether he was angrier at Dick or at himself. Was he angry because Dick wanted to bring him back into the family or was he angry because he still wanted to smash someone to a pulp.

Because that feeling had never gone away since he'd killed Joker back then.

Because he was a sick person who was just waiting for his patience to finally break and he could show someone what it felt like to be helpless.

The door opened and Jason took another drag on his cigarette. It didn't help his nerves.

Dick put a hand on his shoulder, which he immediately shook off.

A glance at Dick made the anger boil up even more.

Dick looked hurt and confused.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked almost fearfully, ”Why? What have I done?”

Jason laughed spitefully, “Don't act more stupid than you are. No one in the family buys that anymore. Only the idiots who start in the mob are that stupid.”

Dick's eyes grew even more panicked.

He had no idea.

And wasn't that for the best? His big brother really thought he was that smart or Jason that stupid?

“You know I don't want to go back into the family business and now you're trying to manipulate me? Seriously?”

“You noticed?” asked Dick, surprised.

Jason threw his cigarette on the floor and crushed it on the ground.

“You weren't exactly subtile,” he growled against the ground, imagining that the cigarette under his sole was a finger.

“Was I so wrong to hope you'd come back,” Dick asked softly, taking a step closer.

“I miss you, Jason. The family misses you. Once a week - once a month in some cases - just isn't enough for me. Not when you were my first sibling.”

And it wasn't enough for Jason either. He missed his family.

“You had so much talent back then. Manipulation, fighting spirit and cunning soul. When you wanted to give all that up, I didn't say anything. When you left the family, I begged Bruce to bring you back. When you just wanted to be a student, I took what I could get. But now you're just cruel.”

Jason stumbled back a step and Dick immediately followed. Jason felt the railing from the balcony at his back and wanted to run. Dick blocked his path.

“How cruel of you to get my hopes up. You asked me to commit murder and I did. I thought that meant you were coming back. And now you're telling me you're still staying away? That's fucking cruel.”

Dick's eyes were filled with pain and Jason felt shame.

He had inflicted pain on Dick for not dealing with his problems.

...Shame was not an emotion Jason felt for long, because he almost always exchanged it for anger immediately.

“Stop manipulating me!” he shouted into the garden and his fist hit Dick hard in the face.

It hit him so hard that Dick fell down because he hadn't expected it.

Jason stared down in horror. Dick stared back in shock.

His cheek was already swelling and Jason's hand was shaking because he wanted to hit him again.

“Jay?” Dick asked, confused.

Jason jumped over him.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled, ”I'm so sorry.”

He took off running.

The further he got away from Dick, the safer his brother was.

Jason didn't feel like answering the knock on his apartment door.

He had even less desire to have his apartment broken into. And he didn't get his hopes up. Whoever from his family was at the door would not hesitate to pick the lock. And it was definitely one of them. After all, they had waited almost a whole day after what had happened last night.

So he got up and got ready to fight off one or more of his siblings.

There was none of his siblings at the door, but his father.

“Hello, Jason,” Bruce gave a forced smile, ”May I come in?”

The sad thing was that Jason knew that Bruce would leave if Jason refused. Mob boss Bruce Wayne didn't take orders from the rest of the world, but he was a good father and listened to his children's wishes.

So Jason stepped aside and brewed tea for them both so that his hands had something to do.

Bruce himself took off his coat and shoes before sitting down on the kitchen chair and started watching.

“How's Dick?” Jason was the first to break the silence.

Bruce sighed, “He's telling everyone who asks, and everyone who doesn't, how fantastic you can hit.”

Jason almost dropped his cup in shock and just managed to set it down carefully in front of Bruce.

“You're joking.”

“I'm afraid not,” his dad looked pained, ”I love your brother, but I can't share his enthusiasm about some things.”

Jason looked down at his hand guiltily.

“I didn't mean to hit him.”

It sounded to his ears like every excuse Willis had ever made.

Jason winced as Bruce placed his hand over Jason's and squeezed gently.

“I shouldn't say this as a father, but Dick deserves it. And he's a big boy who can take as much as he dishes out.”

“That doesn't make it any better,” Jason objected, withdrawing his hand.

Bruce sighed and Jason was annoyed by this.

“If it pisses you off so much to take care of your kids, maybe you should have picked normal kids.”

Bruce laughed.

Jason winced. It had slipped out, and the last thing he'd expected was for Bruce to laugh about it.

“Think about it, Jason,” he begged, ”I didn't choose you.”

Jason froze and ... that was right. It had always been Dick who had wanted siblings. He didn't know exactly how Dick had come to Bruce either, but he wouldn't be surprised if that had been Dick's choice too.

“You're letting him - all of us - get away with too much,” he muttered in horror. Apparently his mouth had decided not to put a filter between his brain today.

Bruce shook his head with his “dad smile”.

“I know it looks that way,” he agreed with Jason, ”But actually that's not true. I won't let you get away with anything that would be bad for you. But Dick's decisions regarding his siblings have always enriched me with good and perfect children. Dick is a successor I can be proud of. Tim runs the numbers better than I ever could. Cassandra is just a sweetheart. Duke is new, but I can already see the potential in him. And then, of course, there's you. I see you and you're brilliant. That's why it breaks my heart to watch you try to hide from it.”

Jason shivered.

“I don't feel brilliant.”

“But you are,” Bruce said firmly, ”You always wanted a normal life. And that's fine. But I have a feeling that's not all you want anymore. You want more. You want to be a part of the family. A complete part and not just half a part that only comes for dinner every now and then. And I assure you, Jason, we want that too. You're just getting in your own way.”

Jason wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and looked anywhere but at Bruce.

“You don't get it.”

“Yes, I do.”

Jason couldn't help but look back up into his dad's eyes, which looked just as sincere as his voice sounded.

“When I took over the business back then, I was so angry with everyone and just wanted to punish everyone. And it felt good. So I kept going until I was at the top. It took me a long time to learn not to take that anger out on everyone, but only on those who deserved it.”

“Willis was just as brutal,” Jason confessed. It was easier to confess something when the man in front of you had already revealed everything.

“He was brutal and he hurt my mom and me. I don't want to be like him. I have a conscience.”

Not like Dick. Not like Tim.

Not like Bruce?

“It's because you have a conscience that you're not like Willis,” Bruce said gently, ”Come back to the family and take your anger out on those who really deserve it. If you know that side of yourself and hide it, it'll only get the wrong people. Like Dick.”

Jason looked at him helplessly, “If Dick hears how much I love hurting others, he'll just want to fuel it. He's a cheerleader that way. He doesn't understand the conscience thing.”

“But luckily he understands clear messages. If I tell him that you alone decide how far you get involved in the family business and if I tell him he can't mess with that, then he'll listen to me.”

Jason laughed at the thought of Dick listening to anyone.

“He'll listen to me. Especially if he knows he'll lose you forever otherwise. And he would, wouldn't he?”

Jason didn't know. A year ago, he would have agreed immediately. Now he wasn't sure. No matter what he did, he couldn't run away from his family, because he didn't want to.

He had tried normal life and it was nice, but empty.

He needed that wild bunch of crazy siblings and the criminal background to feel happy. He needed blood on his hands to know he was still alive.

“You really think I can have both lives?” he asked uncertainly.

Bruce gave him the warmest smile, “Yes, Jason. You can have anything you want.”

Jason had to smile.

If he could have anything he wanted, then he wanted it all.

A normal life and a life of crime.

A student and a junkie on his way to the next fight.

He wanted his family back and not half.

He was Jason fucking Wayne and Gotham's entire underworld belonged to him and his family.