Hey all. I'd written this story more of a side story to a larger storyline that's been rattling around my head (and has yet to fully align itself into coherency so I'll only be teasing you about it. :P ) Anyway, this moment came about and I just thought to share it. It's pretty much a standalone fic story though.

Wrote this last march but hadn't posted it. My bad.

Enjoy this slice-of-life.

Laters.

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Jason was killing time by rearranging the library but mostly he ended up with different piles of books on the library floor. Some were for moving to different levels of the shelves, some for repair, others for donations, lending, or as gifts perhaps. But he also had another pile that was of books he'd read himself. Either recommended by Alfred who sat on the chair below or by the synopsis on the back of the book.

He'd started from the top and worked his way down, precariously using the ladder as a seat when he stopped to read parts or checked the state of a book. Sometimes just leaning on it with perfect balance as he did so or when he reached for others.

Alfred had watched him through it as they discussed how to arrange books even he no longer read, books that would need some repair, some that would need to be moved to the closed bookshelves, and many other decisions so as to make the books arranged in a manner that would suit both the books themselves and the readers of the house.

When Jason had come up to him earlier and asked if he could arrange the books, he'd known it was merely a reason to distract himself. But he also remembered the boy who'd been so enamoured by the library that he'd pulled out random books of interest. How they both discovered treasures tucked up in the high shelves. How they'd planned to go through them and make their own system of arrangement. All of that before they'd grown apart and lost him.

This afternoon, Alfred was sipping his tea when he heard Jason give a stuttered breath. Ah. He'd just reached that section. Alfred had added it long ago.


Jason looked down at a row of books not particularly grand or even full of originals.

It was a row of books that used to sit in his own shelves in his old room.

Reaching out hesitantly, he pulled out an old copy of his first ever book. It wasn't a first edition or an old print. And it was old only because of its not having been cared for in its first life as city property. Jason had come to own the book when the library had restocked its copies and sold for cheap the books they had replaced.

He'd spent an entire dollar to buy it (felt a little like he was spending too much when he'd heard before of books sold at 50 cents but this was the one he'd read and re-read so many times, he just had to have it). He had regretted that he couldn't afford the others to keep for himself. But living with just a knapsack and no true home would've made it hard to keep a lot more than one book just the same.

For this particular copy, it had someone's written notes discussing the characters. He himself had added to it while hiding from the librarian (reasoning that he wasn't defiling an already defiled book). He'd never thought he would ever defile a book before but the comments had been so engaging. It intrigued him more so when it got replies. It had saddened him to know he'd never meet his fellow reader once it became only for his reading pleasure. But that was alright. This book had kept him distracted from depressing thoughts, from nights so cold he grew tempted in doing the unimaginable, from hunger so acute he could only lay down.


Alfred watched as Jason ran a hand down the book's spine, through yellowed pages and notes he knew had been the boy's own along with another's. He watched as the young man closed the book and descended from the ladder. He gave only a soft smile as Jason stood before him.

"Can you read it to me, Alfie?"

One eyebrow went up in curiosity before he nodded. Jason moved to sit down before him on the floor and then, by some returning childlike mannerisms, he sat by Alfred's legs and rested his arms on the old man's knees, laid his head down and looked up at him. His eyes sparkled with mischief, daring him to say anything.

Alfred only gave a huff and set his tea down by the side table. Opening the book, he absently stroked the young man's head while he read.

Jason silently recited alongside him the words that were so familiar. Eventually though, the warmth from the afternoon sun, the energy spent from going through most of the top shelves, Alfred's own quiet voice and his warm hand carding through his hair soon had him sleeping by his grandfather's knees.

The old butler only read on for a bit more before having already memorized the page on which Jason had first started closing his eyes before placing the book down and finally looking up to the occupied door. He'd known they were being watched since Jason started losing the battle to sleep.


Bruce stood by the door observing his son before surveying the mass of books pulled out from shelves and into different piles on the floor.

He looked back and returned the smile from his old friend.

"How long do you think before Jay satisfies his fixing mood?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm." Alfred looked on a particularly tall pile of books on the side near him. It was the pile Jason was planning to read. "A while," he answered with a small smile.

Bruce only gave a small laugh realizing what that pile was for. "Would…would he let me help him, you think?"

"Well. As I've only been sitting here as ordered, I'm actually not sure, Master Bruce."

"I'll ask him when he wakes then." Bruce smiled again as he watched his volatile son sleep so peacefully like the child he should've been allowed to be.

"Let me have this for a bit," Alfred indicated with a nod at the young man, hand still moving over Jason's head."And then do please move him to the sofa. We can't have him wake with a stiff neck later on."

Alfred gave Jason a fond smile. And once Jason had been moved with nary but a sleepy sigh, Alfred came back inside the library. "Would you care for some tea, Master Bruce?"

Sitting down on the opposite chair from him, Bruce gave a smile. "I'd like that."


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Book title is not mentioned on purpose because I know most everyone has their own favourite and you could just go ahead and imagine sharing the same one with Jay (of course it would be one that was printed pre-death...but you know what? Time is blah, even if your fave is pretty new, our litnerd bird will share the same with you).

Apart from P&P though (an actual fave of mine), I do imagine that young Jay liked adventure books and read detective novels to bond with Bruce. I can also see him reading along with Alfred –complete with all the theatrics.

What books do you think he'd have liked? What title do you think is on that small row of particular books? I'm curious to know.

Thanks for reading.