I borrowed some of the dialog from A Death in the Family and I fudged a few details about the fact Alfred was talking to Bruce the entire time. This takes place in that universe. I like to make myself sad, apparently, and I decided I didn't want to be alone in that, so here you go!
Warning: lots of angst, some mention of blood/injury/gore, and a swear word or two.
Prompt for this chapter: "You don't owe me anything."
Jason didn't often find himself working from the cave, but as luck would have it Tim wanted some help with a case he'd been working on. So here he sat, perusing the video archives of the Batcomputer on a Wednesday night, researching Bruce's files while Tim worked through his own intel. The files were from the feed from Bruce's cowl that he saved for this exact purpose.
Two hours in, Tim yawned and said he was going to go help Alfred finish making coffee. Jason hummed a reply and continued going through the files Tim flagged for research. He needed a break from watching them. As fascinating as it was to see things from Batman's perspective, it got old fairly quickly and they all started to blur together.
He leaned back in his chair and stretched, groaning when his long-inactive joints popped loudly. He drained the last of his now-cold cup of coffee and settled back in, ready to go through the next batch of files. He backtracked and went to open the next archive.
The naming convention for each archive was pretty straight forward and he scanned the directory; Bruce's archives had footage going back for years. He opened the next archive on his list, one for several years prior, and as he scanned through the files, one caught his attention. It was a large file and it was an old one, based on the date it was uploaded to the archive. His eyes widened as he re-read the file name.
It was cataloged as 27-Apr-Joker/Ethiopia.
It was the footage from the night he died.
No way Bruce would have kept that.. would he?
Jason hesitated, his index finger hovering over the mouse, eyes glued to the monitor. He knew he didn't want to see it. He knew he shouldn't watch it because whatever recovery he's managed since he came back, this could potentially set him back years. But he was morbidly curious. And since Bruce was out on patrol, Tim was still upstairs and Damian was at Dick's for the weekend with an injured shoulder, he had a chance he might never get again.
How did Bruce react that night? What really happened? He'd never been able to ask Bruce about it, and Alfred never gave him more than the barest of answers. He glanced behind him, checking to make sure he was still alone, then he turned the volume up to a level only he could hear, but that wouldn't echo much, and double-clicked the file.
The footage began with Batman speeding toward the warehouse on his motorcycle. The whine of the engine was loud, as was the sound of the wind rushing past his face. The warehouse got larger as he got closer.
Jason watched as Batman roared up the hill toward the warehouse, knowing it was seconds away from exploding. He paused the video and leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes. He could still close the file. He could still not watch this. He could pretend he never saw these files and go back to the case Tim had him helping with.
But then he heard the Joker's voice in his head, crystal clear.
"That last one looked like it really hurt, kiddo. Do you want me to give it a rest for a little while?"
Jason looked up at him from his spot on the floor, one eye completely swollen shut. He spit a mouthful of blood to the floor, adding to the puddle that was already there.
"Screw you, clown. Batman will beat you to a pulp when he gets here." His broken jaw throbbed as he spoke, but it was the least of his worries at the moment. He could feel broken ribs grating against each other, one of them having punctured a lung already.
The Joker tapped the crowbar against a gloved palm that was now stained crimson with his blood. There were bits of fabric caught on the rough metal at the end. He plucked the fabric off and flicked it off his fingertip, wrinkling his nose in fake disgust.
"Oh, kiddo. He won't make it here in time to save you. This party is officially over."
He nodded in the direction of Sheila, who was barely conscious halfway across the room.
"Bats only has about sixty seconds, birdie. And with our little distraction earlier, he'll be just a few seconds too late."
He pulled a small remote from his vest pocket and held it up for Jason to see. He waved it around a moment before hitting the single red button in the center of the device. A loud 'beep' echoed from somewhere behind Sheila and Jason saw a bright red timer start a countdown.
"So, you see, I've gotta run. Places to go, people to murder. You know how it goes." He put the remote on top of a stack of crates, well out of Jason's reach, before raising the crowbar one more time. "I hope you've had an absolute blast tonight. I know I have." He brought the crowbar down on Jason's knee and he screamed in agony.
"See you on the other side, Robin. If Bats does somehow get here early, tell him I said hello."
Jason shook his head to clear the memory and inhaled slowly and deeply, holding his breath. He needed to know what happened, he needed to see it for himself. Before he could talk himself out of it, he clicked 'play' again.
"Alfred. What can you tell me about that warehouse?"
"It's empty, sir. It hasn't been operational in five years. The company that owned it went bankrupt."
Batman looked down at the speedometer on the bike. He was pushing one-sixty with no sign of slowing down. He looked up at the top of the hill.
"Damn it. I can't make it go any faster!"
"Master Bruce, you'll get there in time. Just focus."
"Alfred, he's in there.. what if…"
"No what-if's, young man. Just get up that hill and get to your son."
Jason shivered and folded his arms over his chest, the air around him carrying a chill that hadn't been there minutes ago. He'd never heard Bruce use that tone in the field. It was unnerving to hear him so… worried. He looked to the top of the stairs and saw no one, so he continued watching. The data feed from the cowl up in the corner of the screen said he was six hundred meters and closing.
Five hundred meters.
Four hundred.
Thee hundred.
Jason's breath hitched in his throat as Batman closed the distance to the warehouse. By his estimation, the timer on the bomb was down to less than twenty seconds by that point and he'd been crawling over to Sheila, trying to reassure her they would be alright.
Two hundred meters.
One hundred.
Fifty meters.
At twenty-five meters, Batman launched himself from the bike toward the warehouse, the snap of his cape opening crackling sharply over the audio feed.
"ROBIN!"
The moment his boots hit the ground, there was a flash of light and a deafening roar. The video feed went white and the audio cut out for two or three seconds. Jason flinched at the sound and swallowed hard, watching as Batman was blown backward by the blast wave and rolled to a stop. He didn't move for almost ten seconds. The video feed wobbled as he stood up.
"JASON!"
He stumbled forward and threw himself into the wreckage, heaving splintered wood and broken concrete blocks out of the way. The footage was shaky at first, until Batman calmed down enough to focus.
"Jason! Can you hear me? Where are you?"
Jason looked away from the screen the moment Batman saw an arm come into view, waving weakly to catch Batman's attention.
It wasn't his arm.
He closed his eyes, refusing to open them again when he heard her voice. He felt bile rise in his throat and he fought the urge to be sick.
"Help… me…"
"Sheila!"
He could hear Batman clearing more debris as he tried to keep her calm.
"Sheila, it's okay. I'll get you out. Where's Jason?"
Jason cringed as he heard her try to speak before a thick, wet cough, proof of massive internal injury, took over.
"He's much.. better… than I.. deserve."
Jason opened his eyes, inhaling sharply at the sight of her. His mother. She had massive contusions to her face, but could still open both eyes. She was focused on Batman as he tried to dig her out of the rubble.
"Where's Jason? Sheila? Where was Jason when this happened?" Batman's voice was noticeably calmer than earlier, but Jason could still hear the panic plain as day, now that he recognized it.
"He… he threw.. himself… in front of me," she wheezed, her head rolling forward as she struggled to stay conscious. "He took.. the main brunt… of the blast."
Sheila stopped moving and Batman leaned down to check her vitals, the camera shifting as he tilted his head to the side to listen for breath sounds.
Jason moved to the edge of the chair, covering his mouth with both hands when he saw it. In the near distance there was a tattered yellow cape and a head of black hair visible in the rubble.
"Oh my god…" His voice was only a whisper, yet it sounded so loud in the solitary confines of the cave.
Batman hadn't seen him yet, which was confirmed when he turned to look at Sheila again instead of moving toward what Jason had just seen. He watched as Batman closed her eyes and stood up, frantically looking around for a place to start searching.
"JASON!" he screamed. "Jason! Can you hear me?" The full-fledged panic in his voice was back.
Jason felt dizzy, watching as the camera shifted so quickly. He jumped when Alfred's voice merged again with the audio feed. The blast wave must have temporarily knocked out the communication between the cowl and the feed to the cave.
"Master Bruce? What happened? Are you alright? Where's Jason?"
Bruce didn't answer and he didn't have to. Jason watched, horrified, as Batman stumbled through the wreckage toward what Jason had seen earlier. His breath started coming in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with panic as he witnessed what Batman saw next.
"Jason?! JASON!"
Batman was on his hands and knees now, ripping through the rubble and trying to get to Robin.
"No.. no no nonononono…."
Jason was standing in front of the console now, tears stinging his eyes. His hands were still over his mouth, trying to keep himself quiet.
Batman cleared away enough debris and he'd ripped his gloves off, carefully taking Robin's bruised and battered face in his hands.
"J..Jason? Jason? Please.. please wake up."
Batman was pleading now and it freaked Jason out to hear him use that kind of tone. He watched Batman check Robin's head, neck and torso for injuries, but it was clear to Jason there was nothing Batman could have done to save him. From what he could remember about the injuries Joker inflicted during the beating, they were likely fatal to begin with, so even if he'd survived the blast, he never would have made it to a hospital. He'd never held Bruce responsible for not saving him, but seeing this somehow made him feel better. Like he'd needed proof there was nothing more Bruce could have done.
On the screen, Batman knelt next to Robin and pulled him into his lap. Neither Batman nor Robin were on screen after that; the camera angle from the cowl was focused on the mountains in the distance, the footage rocking back and forth like they were on a boat.
"Jason.. no.. I… just…you can't.."
The tears Jason was trying really hard not to shed were trailing freely down his cheeks now. He'd crossed his arms in an attempt to smother the sobs he could feel deep in his chest as he listened to Batman break down. Alfred's voice came through again, painfully soft and quiet.
"Master Bruce? You need to get the two of you out of there. I see local EMS has been dispatched to your location."
Batman shook his head, looking down again. Robin was still cradled in his lap and he was tucking the battered remains of his cape around his body. Batman no longer tried to disguise his voice when he acknowledged Alfred.
"I.. I can't. I can't move him, Alfred. He's hurt."
Jason heard Alfred sniffle and take a moment to compose himself.
"He's gone, sir. There's nothing you can do for him now except to bring him home. Bring him back to me and we'll take care of him. But you have to move."
Batman shifted Robin and picked him up, glancing down at his face. There was so much blood.
"I'm so sorry, Jason. I…"
Before the footage could continue, Jason closed the file and collapsed onto the chair. His shoulders shook in silent sobs as he leaned forward against the console, burying his face in his arms.
He knew some of the details of what happened that day, most of what he knew was from someone else's account of how Bruce responded to what happened. But neither Bruce nor Alfred had ever really spoken much about the specifics, even when Jason asked. He hadn't known this footage existed until now, but as surprised as he was at what he'd just seen, he also wasn't surprised Bruce had it recorded.
He heard the rumble of the Batmobile entering the cave a few minutes later, and by then he was sitting back in the chair, slouched and staring at the computer keyboard. The rustle of a cape made him focus and he blinked, his eyes red and swollen.
"Jason?"
Bruce approached carefully; Jason heard his footsteps lighten and his pace slowed considerably. But he was too numb to move, too stunned to process anything other than that.
"Jason? Are you alright?"
He slowly turned toward Bruce, his gaze rising to meet Bruce's. He paled noticeably before looking back at the monitor and shaking his head.
Bruce knelt in front of him, a large, gloved hand gripping his bicep gently. He studied Jason's face, trying to find something that would tell him what was wrong. When Jason didn't look at him, he turned and looked up at the monitor. He winced when he saw which file had been accessed and he spun the chair until Jason was facing him, away from the computer, and put a hand on each arm rest.
"Jay? Look at me. Did you watch that footage?"
Jason nodded, swallowing hard.
"Yeah."
"I wish you wouldn't have."
Me too, Jason thought.
Bruce let go of the chair long enough to take off his gloves and gauntlets. Jason looked at him, shaking his head and frowning.
"Why not? It's my death."
Bruce sighed. His shoulders sagged and he shook his head.
"No one should have to see their death, especially not yours."
"Why would you keep it, after all this time?"
Bruce was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't start yet another argument. He settled with the simple answer.
"It's a reminder."
Jason visibly deflated, their previous arguments reminding him he was just a lesson to Bruce. A cautionary tale for those who came after him.
"Oh, so you show it to the new Robin recruits so they don't fuck up like I did?"
Bruce shook his head again and grabbed Jason's hands, waiting until he looked at him before he replied.
"What happened to you wasn't your fault, Jason. Do you understand that?" Jason tried to pull away, but Bruce held firm. "I need you to understand that. Your death was not your fault. And I'm sorry you ever felt like it was."
Jason jerked his arms away from Bruce and wheeled the chair back before standing up. He was furious, but thoroughly confused as well. He turned from Bruce and raked his shaking hands through his hair. His chest heaved with his anger and he inhaled and counted to five before he let the breath back out. When he was calm enough to speak, he spun on his heel and stepped closer, pushing Bruce back a few steps.
"What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He was shouting now, but he didn't care. "What was all that talk about me being your greatest failure, then, huh? That was all I ever was to you!"
Bruce stood and scrubbed a hand over his face, willing himself to stay calm. He took a cautious step forward.
"You've never failed me, Jason. Despite everything we've been through, how we've fought since you came back, you've never failed me. I never should have phrased it that way."
Jason shook his head, tears threatening again. He held a hand out in front of him, trying to keep Bruce away.
"No. After all the things I've done. The things I did to you. To Dick. To Tim and Damian…god.." he trailed off, staring at the floor. "After what I've done to this family, how can I not be a failure, Bruce?"
Bruce gestured to the monitor. "What you saw up there was my failure." He tapped his chest, his hand against the bat symbol. "I'm the one who failed you, Jason. I need you to understand that. I'm the one who couldn't protect you."
"You don't owe me anything, Bruce. I don't deserve.."
Bruce didn't wait for Jason to finish. He stepped forward, taking Jason's face in his hands. He studied him for a moment, waiting for Jason to look at him. Jason's apprehension was met with a teary-eyed smile before Bruce hugged him, squeezing as tightly as Jason needed, until he understood.
"Yes, you do. You're my son."
