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Jason and Bruce had a turbulent past, as Alfred would say. Jason had a series of more colourful terms for it, but he ceded to Alfred's words whenever the man was in earshot.
So yes, they had a turbulent past and an uncertain present built on the tenuous truce they had crafted over time.
Jason and Bruce's relationship was inconsistent in many ways. But they had a few things that remained the same no matter how circumstances changed.
For example, whenever Jason got injured, Bruce would show up an hour later and linger outside his place like a cat that had peeked into the wrong room.
Or once a month, usually on the fifteenth, they'd argue over the no-kill rule until Babs threatened to mute their coms.
And every day, at 8AM, Bruce would send Jason a good morning text.
Back when Jason was a kid, he'd get good morning greetings– notes if Bruce had to leave early.
Bruce picked them back up pretty soon after Jason got back. Somehow managing to track down whatever phone he was using to do so.
The texts themselves varied, but they always started and ended the same.
Good morning, sweetheart. I hope that last night's patrol went smoothly. Have a good day ❤️
Good morning, Jaylad. I heard about your drug bust last night, good work. Take care today ❤️
Good morning, honey. Hope you're resting well after that Arkham breakout. I'll see you tonight hopefully ❤️
Jason never replied, of course. He was still on limited speaking terms with everyone but Alfred. And Tim. But that was only because Tim was a persistent little brat.
Either way, Jason always got his text, without fail. Every text would be punctuated by a little love heart at the end of them. Because Bruce was embarrassing like that.
Jason had grown accustomed to the bothersome messages. He read each one with a scowl and staunchly refused to reply or acknowledge their existence outside of briefly scanning them each morning.
It became a part of his daily routine to hear that obnoxious chime at 8AM, grab his phone, scowl at the message and very pointedly ignore it.
Jason never blocked Bruce's number or deleted any of the texts. Only because he was just that used to the routine.
There was no other reason.
Then, one day, something changed.
It started when the chime came at almost two minutes past eight in the morning. Safe to say, Jason was more grumpy than usual, having his whole routine disrupted like that.
He snatched up the phone with a growl and scanned the message, only to rear back in shock at the contents.
He fumbled with the phone, almost dropping it in his surprise.
Jason re-read the message nine times, but it didn't change. Just ruthlessly glared up at him from its place on the screen.
Good morning, sweetheart. It was a quiet patrol last night. Hope you have a good day. Take care.
Jason's knuckles went white around the phone. Rage and confusion bubbling up, almost enough to make his vision go green.
How dare he. Jason glowered at the screen. That cold hearted bastard.
Jason shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He should have known better than to let those messages continue. It was inevitable that something like this would happen.
Jason hadn't even done anything particularly bad last night. Like Bruce had so callously mentioned in his cruel morning text, it had been a quiet night.
He scowled at the message. Sweetheart, Bruce called him. Well Jason called bullshit. Sweethearts don't get treated like this. With such cold indifference, such casual cruelty, such–
Jason's smoke alarm went off, startling him out of his thoughts.
Goddamn it. Jason glared at his smoky kitchen. The smoke was coming from the cheapass toaster he bought from an off-brand appliance store.
Great, Jason groaned, now he'd burned his toast. Bruce just had to ruin everything.
Jason dumped his phone on the table with a loud clatter. He stomped over to the toaster and took out the charred bread, blackened and burned like Bruce's shrivelled up heart.
He threw it in the trash with a scowl and stormed into his room to put on his shoes.
Now that his morning was officially fucked, he may as well go and confront the old man.
Then get a new phone, a well encrypted one. He would certainly not be letting Bruce contact him again after this.
-
Bruce had been having a hectic morning. Lucius had gotten sick, so Bruce had rushed into W.E. at 7AM to cover the morning meeting.
Afterwards, he took his paperwork back home with him, only to have to stop Tim and Damian from drawing up unnecessarily violent contingencies for the Justice League.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about them finally getting along. Dick seemed to think it was a good thing so Bruce was trying to follow his lead on that.
Then again, his eldest was prone to making questionable judgments– Discowing immediately came to mind– perhaps Bruce should muse on the matter more himself.
After all, Tim's sharp intelligence along with Damian's calculating bloodthirstiness could be an awful combination if left unchecked.
And he didn't want to even imagine how bad it could get if Duke decided to join in on their shenanigans.
But for now, he would let it be a problem for future Bruce.
He sent Dick, Cass, Duke and Jason their daily good morning texts. A little later than usual, but he was sure none of them would notice.
Now, he was in his office, slogging through paperwork that really could have just been sent in an email.
He worked in relative quiet, humming to himself. Despite the hectic start, it was turning out to be a peaceful day.
Then a movement caught his eye from outside the window. Jason came crashing in two seconds later.
Bruce stood up, getting into a defensive position on instinct. He looked out the window. Perhaps a meta had thrown Jason through? Or someone was chasing him? Maybe–
"You," Jason snarled, storming up to him. His eyes were glowing slightly, but not enough to have Bruce concerned.
After all, Jason’s eyes had glowed over getting the wrong coffee order, hitting his funny bone on patrol and slipping on an oil patch. He was very easily irritated.
Bruce observed him, trying to decipher the source of his stress. Jason was in a Wonder Woman sweatshirt and Starfire joggers. Thankfully, he was also wearing combat boots, so he didn't cut his feet on the glass.
His fists were clenched by his sides as he glared.
"Jaylad?" Bruce questioned. Despite his worry, he was happy to be seeing Jason during the day, without his helmet too. It was quite the novelty. "What's the matter?"
Jason laughed, a cold, bitter thing. "Like you don't know." He spat.
Bruce frowned. "I don't."
It grated to admit such a thing, Bruce had a reputation to maintain after all.
Jason scoffed and held up his phone, their one sided chat displayed on the screen. "What kind of sick game do you think you're playing here?"
"Do you not like the texts?" Bruce asked.
He could switch to letters instead. God knows Bruce could afford the postage expenses.
"Don't play dumb with me." Jason growled, stepping closer in an attempt to loom over Bruce. Considering Bruce had taught Jason how to loom, he wasn't all that impressed. "I'm not talking about the texts, I'm talking about this sick excuse for a message right here."
Jason pointed at the most recent one, tapping the screen loudly in his agitation.
Bruce pushed his reading glasses up his nose and leaned over to read it. Perhaps that god-forsaken autocorrect had changed one of his words, he had been a little absent minded when typing it.
All Tim and Damian's fault as far as he was concerned.
Bruce read the message three times, narrowing his eyes as he tried to decipher what could be causing Jason so much distress.
"I'm afraid I don't see what you mean." Bruce informed him after a few moments. "It seems no different from any of the others."
"No different?" Jason said. "No different?" He repeated louder.
"Jaylad–"
"You're really going to pretend that everything's fine?" He glared.
"Would you please tell me what you mean, I'm a detective, not a mind reader." Bruce sighed. He was starting to wonder why he bothered having children, he was much less prone to headaches before them.
"My love heart!" Jason yelled. "You always end my texts with a heart so where the hell is it?"
Bruce stared at his son in bafflement. He leaned forward and read the text again only to see that he did, in fact, forget to put the usual heart emoji there.
The text did look quite bleak without it. Very plain and gloomy, like Bruce's paperwork.
"Well?" Jason glowered at him. "What do you have to say for yourself, hm?"
Bruce stared for a moment. Jason was red faced and puffed up, glaring at Bruce as if he'd used his books as kindling for a bonfire.
He'd stormed from Crime Alley to Bristol in his pyjamas, dodged the security around the manor, scaled the building and crashed through Bruce's window like something out of those action movies Steph loves so much.
All over a missed heart.
Bruce couldn’t help it, he laughed.
Jason's face fell, until Bruce pulled him into his arms, holding him tight. His second eldest was apparently too shocked to fight his way out of the embrace.
Bruce ran a hand through Jason's hair, still chuckling.
All this time, he wasn’t even sure that Jason read the texts. Only for this to happen.
Bruce kissed the top of Jason’s head, laughing even harder, feeling lighter than he had in years.
"I don't see what's so funny." Jason grumbled.
Bruce smiled. He'd forgotten how dramatic his boy could be, especially when he felt slighted. Bruce had been privy to many monologues over minor incidents throughout Jason's time in the manor.
"It was a hectic morning," Bruce explained, pulling away to cup the back of Jason’s head. "I forgot."
"Well you shouldn't have." Jason frowned.
"I can see that now." Bruce said solemnly.
"You were over two minutes late in sending it too." He hissed, like Bruce had committed a heinous crime.
Bruce hummed. "I see."
Jason glared. "I burned my fucking toast for this."
"I'm sorry." Bruce's lips twitched upwards. He pursed his lips when Jason's eyes narrowed. He'd provoked his son enough for one day. "Alfred could make you some more, if you'd like to stay." Running his hand through Jason's hair once more.
"Fine." Jason scowled, even as he leaned into the touch. "But this better not happen again." He warned.
Bruce nodded sagely. "It was just a mistake, it won’t be repeated."
Jason narrowed his eyes, seemingly satisfied that Bruce was telling the truth after a few moments. "I want my toast."
Bruce looked away to hide his smile. "Of course, sweetheart."