A/N This chapter includes major angst and mentioned previous character death (if you don't know what happened to Jason Todd I suggest you look it up otherwise this won't make any sense). Don't like don't read and as much as I wish I did, I own nothing DC.

Jason Todd:

Bruce internally sighed, afraid that if he moved the slightest his second eldest would somehow know he'd been standing in front of his apartment door. They had never been on good terms since Jason's return, but that didn't expel him from the family. And since his family consisted of costumed, paranoid flying creatures, the fact that no one had seen or heard from or been shot at by the Red Hood in almost a week, Dick and Alfred had finally convinced him (because who can say no to that combination?) to check up on Jason. The memory played back in his mind.

"Why can't you two go? You're both so much….better at that than me."

Dick scoffed. "Because Bruce, he'd see it as an insult." An eyebrow raised in question.

Thankfully, Alfred came to his rescue. "What Master Dick means is that Jason will see it as neglect on your part."

Thinking back, that had been where Bruce lost the argument, despite the fact they still argued for another ten minutes about it. He raised a hand to knock but hesitated. And rolled his eyes. I'm the Batman and I can't even speak to my son.

A scream woke him out of his self-pity. Barging through the door, he ran to the sound of Jason crying out.

"No, no, no. Stop, stop it please."

As Bruce entered the bedroom, he saw Jason thrashing on the bed, eyes clenched tight but tears still managing to fall. Bruce was at his son's side in seconds, pulling him upright against him. He leaned them back against the headboard and muttered reassurances as Jason's breathing became steadier and the hands that clenched his shirt and arm slowly let up, but did not release.

Jason looked up at Bruce, and instantly Bruce wished he hadn't. The only other time Jason had looked so broken was when he had picked up the lifeless body in the rubble.

"Dad…" Jason's voice was hoarse and timid. "Dad don't let him take me away again. Please, please, please-"

"Hush, son. He's not here, and he's never going to take you from me again."

But it was as if the words fell on deaf ears. "I'm sorry Dad I'll be better just please don't send me away, he'll get me there, Dad please don't let him…" And suddenly Jason was gasping for breath again and Bruce ran a hand through his hair.

"Relax Jay, it's ok. He's not here, I promise. It's just you and me."

Father and son.

Jason's breathing had slowed down again and Bruce released the breath he had been holding.

"Go to sleep Jay, you need it."

A hand curled around his shirt again. "No. You won't be here and Dick won't come and Alfred's too busy and I can't go home."

Home. He'd called the manor home. And with that Bruce was helping him out of bed and to the car he had parked outside. "Come on Jay, we're going home."

Back at the Manor.

To say Dick and Alfred had been surprised was an understatement. But Alfred had immediately gone to get a cold cloth and Dick helped Bruce take Jason up to his old room. Stripping him of his boots and jacket, Dick then snuggled into Jason, whispering things he used to tell him before the accident. Bruce gave them some space but stayed in the room. When Alfred appeared with the cold cloth, Dick took over and Alfred moved to Bruce's side.

"Might I inquire as to why you are smiling, Master Bruce?"

"He called me dad."