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Three months later
“And with this DNA,” Batman held his hand out to Nightwing, who tossed him the evidence bag. “You should have enough to arrest Harvey.”
“Might even be enough to put him away for a while this time.” Nightwing hummed, as Gordon took the bag, and held it up to inspect. “If not, we’re still running some back at the base, so. If you need more, give us a ring.”
“Thanks, both of you.” Gordon sighed. “I know I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it a million more times, but. We couldn’t do this without you.”
Nightwing grinned, already turning back to the roof ledge. “It’s what we’re here for, Commissioner.”
He glanced pointedly at Batman, then, and Gordon watched a silent communication happen between them.
Batman suddenly exhaled, like he was tired. “…Right.” He looked to Gordon. “We need to get going.”
“Of course. No time to shoot the breeze. Crimes to be stopped and all that.” Gordon nodded, waving him away. “You boys be safe out there.”
Nightwing was already over the edge, swinging away, when Batman turned to take the same path.
“Though…” Gordon started, as Batman stepped up. The vigilante waited, being purposely slow as he tugged at his own grapple. “Batman?”
“Hm?”
Gordon pursed his lips. “It’s…been a few months.” Pause. “You know. Since the Joker died.”
Batman’s hands stopped. He didn’t look up. “So?”
“So, no leads on that yet? On your end?” Gordon asked. “I mean, my guys haven’t even been able to find the murder weapon yet.”
“…No.” Batman didn’t look up. “No leads yet. But I’m looking.”
“I know you are.” Gordon replied, in a way that hinted he might not, not completely. “…Batman?”
Batman waited.
“There’s…rumours. Going around. About…Robin.” Gordon forced out. “Word on the street is he hasn’t been seen since around that night. Not heads nor tails nor bright yellow capes.”
“Your point?”
“Well, kid isn’t dead, I know that much. You and Nightwing wouldn’t be acting the way you are if he was. I’ve seen you lose Robins, I know how you are.” Gordon almost accused. “I’m just…well. I’ve been in the game a long time, you know that. I can put the rumours and pieces together.”
“…Jim.”
“I won’t say it.” Gordon promised. “I won’t accuse him or you or anybody of anything. I just…” He sighed, ran his hand down his face. “…Is he okay?”
Batman’s face remained impassive. For a second, Gordon thought he might not answer. But eventually Batman’s shoulders slumped. “He’s…coping.” A pause to look across the city, where Nightwing was still in view, though barely. “We’re just…trying to help him the best we can.”
“…From one father to another, I know how terrible it is, when the Joker fucks up your baby.” Gordon tried to smile, but it was painful, those thoughts of Barbara.
Batman nodded solemnly. “…Robin is grounded indefinitely.” Another hesitation. “…Don’t expect to see him, or another one in the title, for a…very long time.”
“The longer he’s out of it the happier I’ll be.” Gordon nodded. “Give him my love, would you?”
Batman looked back, and almost looked shy, underneath that dark, terrifying mask. “…Of course, Jim. Thank you.”
“Any time.” Gordon assured. “…If it’s true, Batman, I…I just think it should be noted. That as terrible as it is, he probably saved a lot of lives. And…might even deserve this whole city’s gratitude.”
Batman seemed to think that over, before finally shooting off his line, and jumping from the roof.
“He doesn’t want it.”
Gordon waited for a moment, and watched Batman disappear into the skyline before pulling out his cigarettes, and lighting one. As he snapped the lighter closed and took a puff, he looked up in to the sky.
“Yeah. I bet he doesn’t.”
Bruce almost didn’t catch up to Dick, knew his counterpart had slowed to wait for him. Knew he was waiting, however much he didn’t want to, because they both knew better than to leave for the night together and return separately.
They’d already made that mistake once, and would do anything not to make it again.
“…If Gordon knows, it’s only a matter of time before the city does.” Dick whispered, as Bruce landed on the ledge next to him. “…What are we going to do then?”
“Nothing.” Bruce grumbled. “Because the city will find out Robin killed the Joker, not Damian.” He paused. “And as far as I’m concerned, Robin is gone, and never coming back. Our job is to focus on Damian, and Damian alone.”
“…I don’t disagree.” Dick sighed. “But ignoring that problem won’t make it go away. We’ll…revisit when we come to it. Deal?”
Bruce hesitated, but nodded.
“Good.” Dick grunted. “Now let’s go.”
Dick took off again through the air, and Bruce stayed tight on his heels.
Getting home always felt like it took forever, though it never took any longer than normal. Swing through the city, find their vehicles, drive through the country, duck into the cave entrance.
People always said the important part was the journey, not the destination. Every night, as he thought about what his destination was, and who was waiting for him, Bruce could only think: Fuck those people.
Dick had fallen into the habit of, upon entering the parking area, barely stopping his bike before hopping off and taking the stairs up into the cave two at a time. Tonight was no different.
“Anybody home?” Dick called over the clanging of his feet on the stairs.
“Us.” Tim called lazily. When Bruce emerged from his own car, he saw Tim standing at the computer, Stephanie lounging on the chair behind him. Alfred could be seen across the cave, working on some weapons. “Jay and Damian are in the house.”
“Really?” Dick snorted in disbelief. “Here I thought Damian would be in that chair, Steph. Lord knows he is otherwise.”
“Jason made him a bet and he lost.” Steph grinned, spinning the chair. “He bet he could get Titus to leave Damian’s side, and Damian was feeling up enough to take it.”
“Jason cheated, though. Had bacon in his pocket.” Tim admitted. “But, getting Damian to stop staring at these damn computer screens and out of the cave is a good cause, so. I guess I’ll let it slide.”
“Hasn’t stopped the little twerp from texting for updates every hour.” Steph added. “Tim and I were giving you two twenty more minutes before calling. Kiddo was starting to get nervous, I think.”
Dick smiled, but it was grim. He didn’t wait around, though. Already reaching up to tug his mask off as he walked away, pulling at the zipper of his suit. He was already at the lockers before he turned around impatiently. “Come on, B.”
Bruce huffed out a laugh, and glanced at the others. “I’ll be back in a bit to go over tonight’s action.”
“We’ll text you if there’s anything urgent.” Barbara’s voice chimed from the computer.
“Thank you.” Bruce nodded, heading to the lockers himself. He changed just as quickly as Dick did, and as soon as they were both in sweatpants, a tshirt for Dick and a sweatshirt for Bruce, the two headed up the stairs into the manor.
They heard the blare of the TV as soon as the clock was open. Could see the light spilling into the hallway. It sounded like a movie. Something silly and mindless. No complicated or tragic plot.
Dick was smiling as he stepped off. Glancing back at Bruce with a quick: “Jay’s smarter than we all give him credit for.”
“I know.” Bruce returned honestly, trailing after.
The room was dark, but in the flashes from the television, Dick and Bruce could see them clearly. They were on the sofa, Jason in the far corner, arm draped across the back of the couch, Damian curled up in a ball – a position none of them had been able to break him from since The Incident – next to him, his toes under Jason’s leg, his head pillowed against Titus’s flank.
Jason noticed them first, with a quick turn of his head, and a silent smile. “Back so soon?”
Damian’s head shot up immediately, and Titus – the only one of them who’d been sleeping – stirred at the movement. Damian’s eyes darted over both of them, checking for injuries, and neither stopped him, knew better than to try.
“…Cassandra?” Damian asked worriedly, even as Dick leaned on the free sofa arm, and scratched Titus’s ear. He could see Jason’s cell phone tight in Damian’s hand. “Mother?”
“Cassandra is doing one more patrol, then she’ll be staying at Barbara’s. She’ll check in then. Your mother had an urgent business matter in Toronto and left from the office this evening. She’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, but will call in the morning.” Bruce promised quietly, crouching next to the sofa and gently taking the phone from Damian’s hand. Damian hesitated a moment, before relaxing, and curling back into Titus. Bruce smiled and mimicked Dick’s movement, running his hand over Damian’s head. “…How are you feeling tonight?”
“…Okay.” Damian shrugged. Dick and Bruce immediately looked at Jason.
Jason lifted the wrist along the back of the sofa, holding up his pointer and middle fingers. Two.
Two fits or flashbacks or panic attacks or otherwise mental breakdowns between them leaving for patrol at dusk and now.
“Not the worst day.” Dick mumbled, even as Bruce put his attention back on his son. “Did you guys have a snack yet? Because I’m starving.”
“Four packs of popcorn and two different flavors of milkshakes. Too slow again, Dickie.” Jason laughed. “We were just going to go to bed, actually.”
“Jay, it’s my night to sleep in there with him.” Dick reminded. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s actually Tim’s.” Jason shot back. “But he and Steph just got that big murder case, so I switched with him. It’s schedule official and everything. Ask Alfred.”
“God, you got snacks and bedtime? What big brother privileges are left!” Dick mock-whined. Damian just snorted and rolled his eyes.
“…I’ll tell you what. How about you go take him to bed.” Jason offered. “I gotta talk to batdad anyway.”
Bruce looked up in question, and Damian glanced at him sheepishly.
“Ooooh, secrets.” Dick hummed, sliding off the sofa arm and coming around the front. He tapped his leg, and Titus immediately came to his side. Damian frowned, but followed suit, accepting a quick, but genuine, embrace from Bruce as he passed. Dick flopped an arm around Damian’s shoulders as soon as he was close enough, and tugged him away, muttering. “Think you have room in that tummy for a few more cookies? I won’t tell Alfie if you don’t…”
Bruce and Jason watched the two go for a minute, until Dick’s cheerful voice faded away.
“…How do you think he’s doing?” Bruce asked softly, standing and turning towards the window. “Really?”
“Good days and bad days, like anyone would have.” Jason sighed, and Bruce heard him stand too. “I think…in the long run, I think we’ll get him back to some level of normal. Granted, I think it’s going to take…years, to get to that point, but. I think he’s got a chance. If we do this right, anyway.”
“…Hm.” Bruce grunted. After a moment, he looked back towards Jason. “And how are you doing?”
Jason blinked, like he was surprised by the question. He smiled, though, in that easy-going way of his. The one he used for everyone, when he was about to lie through his teeth. “…Great.”
A father always knows.
“Jason, I mean it.” Bruce pushed. “I know…I know this is a struggle for you too. Dick tells me about your chats. Barbara too. You have nightmares too, almost as frequently as Damian does. This isn’t your fault, what happened is in no way, shape or form your fault, but you have a lot of guilt about it. I know that. I understand that.” He paused. “You…you can talk to me about this, Jason.”
“Yeah.” The grin stayed, but softened slightly. “I…I know that, Bruce, and I. I mean…that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Bruce nodded almost eagerly. “I’m listening.”
Jason hesitated another moment, the smile slipping from his lips as he tried to focus.
“I…know we never talked about it. I know it never crossed your mind or anything like that, but…well.” Jason pursed his lips. “Damian mentioned it. That night I found him. In that warehouse. And…Dick brought it up again, that day you came to the cabin.”
“Mentioned what?”
“That maybe I could…give up the Red Hood now.” Jason all but whispered. “I mean, I became the Red Hood to annoy you and harass the Joker because I wasn’t avenged with his death. But now that fucker is dead, so…I guess the kid was getting at the fact that now I don’t really have a reason to be out there busting my ass every night.”
“…I see.” Bruce nodded carefully. “…Do you…want to stop?”
“My kneejerk reaction was that I didn’t.” Jason admitted, walking forward, joining Bruce at the window. He didn’t look at the Batman, though. Kept his eyes on the trees, and the grounds, glowing in the moonlight. “But…I mean, I haven’t been out there since we brought Damian home. I haven’t worried about murders and crimes or…” Jason chuckled and glanced down, pinching the skin of his stomach and jiggling it. “…training, at all, and.”
He stopped. Bruce waited.
“…And now I think I…” Jason breathed. Seemed surprised, even by his own words. “Bruce, I don’t think I…want to be the Red Hood anymore.”
Bruce, hiding his own surprise, remained silent.
“…And it’s been kinda…nice.” Jason hummed. “It’s been nice, just…focusing on Damian. On mundane stuff. I got back into reading. Alfred and I got our daily tea time going again, like when I was a kid. Even the bad stuff with Damian. When he has his nightmares and flashbacks. I mean it still sucks. It’s still heavy as hell, but…less so. It’s less heavy to have to pick him up off the bathroom floor because he thought he saw the Joker behind him while he was brushing his teeth than it was to clean someone else’s blood off me and my clothes at the end of every night.”
Another pause.
“Not to mention, it turns out I kind of…like, taking care of the kid. Being one of his central caretakers.” Jason added, almost embarrassed. “Understanding what he’s going through and knowing that, when there’s a problem, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll be able to fix it. Probably better than most of the people in the house, no offense.”
“None taken. Damian is lucky to have you.” Bruce smiled. “We all are lucky to have you.”
“Ha, don’t be so sure, old man.” Jason snorted. “If it wasn’t for me, if I didn’t get my sorry ass killed all those years ago, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“That’s not true, Jason. None of this is your fault, in any way.” Bruce reiterated. “It’s…a morbid idea, but I believe this would have happened regardless of our pasts. Eventually.”
“What, you think Damian was always going to kill him?” Jason asked, glancing up.
“Or Dick, if he ever got angry enough again. Or Stephanie. Any of us.” Bruce listed off with a shrug. “…How seriously are thinking about this, Jason?”
“About giving up Red?” Jason echoed. “…Pretty seriously, I guess. I mean, it hit me earlier this week, how little I’ve thought about our night lives since coming back. How much it hasn’t bothered me, not being out there. Not…suiting up and chasing the bad guys.” He suddenly smiled. “A couple weeks ago, when Steph came back with that big slash on her arm, and Damian shut down for a few hours? When I got him calmed down enough to make sentences again, he told me he was happy I wasn’t out there, too. That I was safe, and not out there getting hurt anymore. And I…kind of agreed with him.”
He stopped again, and turned to look at the room. To look into the hallway, at the stairs that led up to the rooms.
“…Maybe we’ve spent too long focusing on just the bad guys, Bruce.” Jason whispered. “…Maybe it’s time we focus on the good guys instead.”
In the silence, they suddenly heard Damian giggle from upstairs. A poor, gleeful beg of: “Grayson, stop!” that indicated, probably, tickling.
“…If it’s what you want.” Bruce said softly. “Then I think you should do it.”
Jason looked back at him. “Really?”
“Really.” Bruce smiled. “What, you think I was going to fight you? About having two sons home, off the streets and safe at all times?”
“Well,” Jason huffed. “I mean, if you put it that way…”
“Besides, I never wanted you to be the Red Hood, Jason.” Bruce admitted. “I never wanted that life for you.”
“Yeah…” Jason sighed. And for once, he could honestly say, honestly feel: “…I know.”
“And, I agree.” Bruce continued. “About you being one of Damian’s best caretakers. You’ve been the most stable thing he’s had through this whole ordeal, even more than Dick. Maybe you going back on patrol would upset that balance, or undo all the work you’ve already done. Maybe it’d undo all the work you’ve done on yourself, too.”
Jason smirked. “That was my next argument, if for some reason my first one didn’t work.”
Bruce chuckled, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and turning him away from the window, pushing slightly to lead him across the room. “It’ll be a transition, though. And probably not an easy one. But I’ll help you through it, if you like me to. We all will.”
“Yeah, I…I mean, I’m still just thinking about it, maybe in the end I won’t quit, or do reduced patrols or something, but.” Jason inhaled sharply. And Bruce’s heart almost burst out of his chest, when he felt Jason lean into his side, just a little. “…Thanks, Bruce. For listening.”
“I’m trying to make a habit of it.” Bruce promised. “…I’d be proud of you, though. If you quit.” Jason looked up. “I mean, for as strong as we all think we are, we’re all too weak to quit. Too scared. Even Damian probably thinks he’ll return to the Robin mantle, deep down. If you actually get out…that might make you the toughest of us all.”
Jason watched him until they got to the stairs, then paused to smile. “Flatterer.”
“I have learned a thing or two over the years, after all.” Bruce laughed, low and deep as he started up the stairs. “I mean every word, though.”
And again, Jason could say honestly: “I know.”
They took the stairs silently. Paused at the landing. There was no more giggles, or even soft murmurs. Near silence, save for the scratches of Titus’s claws as he tried to get comfortable.
“…You gonna let him go back to it, if he asks?” Jason questioned, as they continued down the hall.
“I hope that’s a bridge I don’t ever have to cross.” Bruce hummed as they reached Damian’s door. “…Though I’ve never been able to say no to you kids.”
They looked in, and found Titus lying on the extra bed that had been put in the room – where whoever was staying with Damian for the night was supposed to sleep. Dick was lying in Damian’s bed, Damian curled into his side, using his big brother’s chest as a pillow. Listening to his heartbeat, one of the few things that tended to keep the boy calm, in the worst moments.
Both fast asleep.
“That was his plan all along.” Jason snorted, leaning against the doorframe. “He’s such a brother-hog.”
“He worries.” Bruce tried. “He blames himself for Damian’s state probably more than you do.”
“He blames himself for everyone’s current state. That’s just what Dick Grayson does.” Jason sighed. “I’ll let him take tonight, if you promise me two nights next week.”
“I’ll put in the request.” Bruce laughed.
“You better.” Jason smirked. They both stood there for a minute more, though. Watched their eldest and youngest cuddled together in comfort. “…I’ll keep him out, B.”
“Hm?”
“Damian.” Jason clarified. “I’ll keep him out of Robin. I can’t guarantee I’ll keep him out of the cave, he still wants to help you in any way he can, but I promise. He won’t ever put another mask on. He won’t ever be in a situation of kill or be killed with some baddie again.”
“Damian will just be Damian.” Bruce agreed. “Like he’s always deserved to be.”
“…It’s gonna take a long time, to even get to that point.” Jason repeated. “You ready?”
Bruce stared at his youngest. His chubby cheeks and gentle face, the lazy arm draped across Dick’s chest. He thought about that security footage, and the carnage he saw on scene in person. He thought about how Jason and Dick ran to protect him, how tightly they still both hold him now. He thought about the tears and nightmares the child had endured since then, but also the affection he’d gained. The gentle leans and the kisses he now allowed. The trust he gave them, and Bruce would do anything to never betray again.
He also thought of the man standing next to him. The son he always wronged. The safety and care he never could quite provide him. The second chance they might be getting, and the new beginning being tentatively offered to them both.
Bruce found himself smiling, even as Jason carefully closed the door, and they turned to leave.
“Yes.”
End.