After much begging on Jason's part, Bruce rescheduled his dentist appointment. After he saw the newspaper he figured that was why Bruce had let him off the hook. Jason honestly didn't know what to think about it. He didn't like that they'd printed his picture, but it was going to happen at some point. Better to get it over with now.
"Now that they got pictures of me, will the paparazzi leave me along?" Jason asked, his voice full of hope.
"Unfortunately, no," Bruce said. They were sitting in the library. That was one of the few rooms in which Jason seemed comfortable. "But it won't be too much longer. I'm planning to hold a party here. It will satisfy everyone's curiosity, and then you should get some peace." He had something else to discuss with his foster son, and he wasn't really sure how to go about bringing it up. He finally just dove in. "I've been looking into Peter," he said shortly. Bruce saw Jason stiffen at the mention of his father.
"What about him?" Jason asked. Why did that man keep coming up? He was supposed to be out of Jay's life forever. He never wanted to hear the name 'Peter' again.
"Well, I think he should be in prison a lot longer then he's going to get," Bruce said, carefully. He wasn't supposed to know about Heywood. Jason had to tell him, and then he could call the police. It would be odd for Batman to be looking into a two-year-old missing persons case that bore all the markings of someone having just up and left. There was no reason to think anything nefarious had befallen Catherine.
"If you want me to testify about what he did to me, forget it," Jason snapped. He'd barely been able to talk about it with Bruce and that doctor. No way on earth was he getting up in front of a room full of people and telling them.
"You don't have to," Bruce said, quickly. He was losing any chance of this working out. Maybe it would be better to wait until later, but Catherine needed justice. She should have a proper burial. That was all he could do for the dead, and he was going to do it. "But is there anything else he did that the police can get him on, that would put him away for longer?"
Jason turned his eyes on Bruce, searching the man's face. Did he know about Kate? He at least suspected something had happened. Why was he so afraid to tell? He'd done nothing wrong. Sure, he should have called the police, but Peter had made it clear he would ended up like Kate if he opened his mouth, and he had had no way of knowing which ones were on Two-Face's payroll. They would report to his dad what he'd said. He could tell Bruce, right? He was Batman; he hunted murderers. Jason took a deep breath, and once again told what had happened that night.
"Don't worry, Jason. We'll take care of this," Bruce said gently. They were getting somewhere. He'd call Gordon and get the man to send some of his trusted detectives out to interview Jason. Then they would just have to get Peter to talk, or find the body. Hopefully they could do this without Jason having to testify. Bruce honestly didn't know if he'd be able to handle it, after everything he'd been through.
At that moment Alfred walked into the room. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, sir, but I believe I smell smoke somewhere in the house. Master Dick mentioned smelling it too." They'd looked, but had been unable to find the source.
Bruce stood up. "Did you look outside?" If there was a window opened, and a fire somewhere in the area, that would be the most obvious explanation.
"Yes, Sir. I could not see any smoke nor could the young master," Alfred said. He glanced at Jason. It was cigarette smoke, and he had smelled the same thing several times since Master Jason had come to the Manor. It was mostly on the clothes he brought to the laundry room.
Bruce read that look easily. He turned and looked down at Jason, who had something between defiance and embarrassment written on his face.
"Jason?" Bruce asked. His tone was stern.
"What?" This was going to be one of those angry outburst situations. Batman could tell by Jay's voice.
"Do you smoke?" Bruce asked. He thought Jason might lie, but given the smoky smell he doubted it. He'd noticed that too, but he'd just assumed someone had been burning trash or leaves, and the smoke had drifted. That apparently wasn't the case.
"Yeah, because that's some more of your business," Jason answered, flippantly. He couldn't keep anything to himself in this stupid house. Batman had his nose in everything. He clearly hadn't heard that people liked privacy. The thief knew Bruce would take away what was left of his cigarettes. He only had a few, and he had no way of getting more. Maybe he could slip into Gotham with no one noticing. Yeah, that wasn't going to work.
"I don't want you doing that," Bruce said, seriously. "It's not healthy, especially not at your age. Now give them to me."
"It's not like I'm walking around with a cigarette in my mouth," Jason said, getting annoyed. He just had one when he was really stressed, which had been more often lately, but that didn't matter. It was his body, and he could do what he wanted.
"Jason, I said something," Bruce said. His voice had grown cold.
"And how are you going to make me?" Jason taunted. Bruce couldn't make him do a thing. The only way Jason would cooperate was to be starved or beaten. That was what it was like in the Alley. He had no reason to obey Wayne when he didn't want to.
"Don't talk back to me," Bruce ordered. He could just go search Jason's room, but he had said something, and he expected to be obeyed and respected, whether Jason felt like it or not.
"Oh, yeah? Stop me," Jason dared. His fear was forgotten for a moment. He was tired of having to behave. That wasn't how he acted on the streets, so why should he act that way now? Plus, he wasn't giving up his cigarettes.
That was it! Bruce caught hold of Jason's arm and half dragged him out of the library. Jason stumbled after, trying to get his balance. Alarm and fear were on his face. He was in deep trouble.
"When I say something, you will listen to me," Bruce said. His voice had gone stone cold, but he was perfectly calm and in control. One would not have thought that by looking at him, and Jason did not think it now. He fully expected a merciless thrashing. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? Was that really so hard to do?
Bruce hauled Jason up the stairs to the boy's room. He let go of Jason once they were in the large room. The thief darted away to the far corner, white with fright. "I'm not going to beat you, but I still expect you to listen when I tell you something," Bruce said. "Now where are the cigarettes?" Jay pointed to under his bed. "Get them."
Jason scrambled across the room and took his dwindling supply of cigarettes out from the boards of the bedframe.
"Matches or a lighter?" Bruce asked.
Jason dug a lighter out of his pocket and placed it in Bruce's large open palm along with his cigarettes. He was scared, but he wasn't going to freak out like he had the other day, at least he hoped he wasn't going to.
"Is there anything else you brought here?" Bruce questioned. He hadn't thought it was necessary to search Jason, when he'd picked the thief up. The was obviously a mistake.
Jason gave a slight nod. His terror was now doubled. He didn't think he could survive Batman's anger. He'd barely lived through Peter's.
"What is it?" Bruce asked. He was expecting drugs of some kind. Jason was scared of heroin. That didn't mean meth or LSD bothered him.
"You'll kill me if I tell you," Jason's voice shook as he spoke.
"I'm not going to kill you," Bruce sighed. He should have been more patient downstairs, but he hadn't known what to do. Dick had never downright refused to do what he was told.
"You wanna bet?" Jason said. A small bit of his defiance had returned.
"Jason, I won't tell you again," Bruce told him. He had no clue what he was going to do if Jason didn't do as he was told. Maybe Alfred would have an idea. Growing up, his father would take him over his knee if Bruce acted like this, but that wasn't a good idea to do to Jason. In his mind it would be no different than beating him, and Bruce wasn't going to do that to him.
Jason pulled a Glock handgun out from under his pillow. It was loaded and ready to be used. Bruce took the gun. He carefully removed the clip and the round in the chamber. Children and guns did not mix, ever. He didn't use guns, but he didn't have anything against them. They were tools that could save lives or take them. The same was true for much of the gear he used.
"Did you sleep with this under your head?" Bruce asked.
Jason nodded. He always did. He had to protect himself. He'd been living on the streets, so not exactly the safest place, and his old home hadn't been much better.
"You could have shot yourself," Bruce said seriously. He could see it all vividly. Jason's hand under the pillow, holding the gun. It goes off, killing him. A bloody scene would meet him when he opened that door.
"It wouldn't have gone off. The safety-," Jason started to say.
"Is not something you trust your life to," Bruce interrupted. "It can easily be flicked off." The thief could have simply pulled out the gun and shot him, Dick or Alfred the night Batman brought him there. He should have been more suspicious.
Jason saw that was true, but he didn't think that would have happened. "So, what's my punishment?" Sarcasm had crept back into his voice and manner. He was scared of what Bruce would do. Would he be sent to a foster home or back to the streets? It wouldn't look good to send the kid he'd picked up a few days ago packing, but no one would blame him.
"I don't know," Bruce said, thinking. When Dick acted up he couldn't be Robin for a while, but that wouldn't work for Jason. Batman wasn't going to make Jason stay in his room. That felt too much like imprisoning him, and Bruce didn't want the eleven-year old to feel as if Wayne Manor was a prison, and he a prisoner any more than he already did.
"Couldn't I just miss a few meals, and we call it good?" Jason suggested hopefully. He could handle that no problem. He'd miss Alfred's cooking, but he'd gone a few days without eating. He wouldn't mind having to do it again.
"Absolutely not. First of all, you are too thin as it is. Second, I would never starve you," Batman said, seriously. Did Jay honestly think Bruce was that much of a monster? He would think of something reasonable. "You need to quit smoking."
"And how am I supposed to do that? They're not really easy to get off," Jason pointed out.
"I'll get you some nicotine gum," Bruce answered. Did you need a prescription for that? "Are you using any drugs?" He was tempted to just take some blood and do a tox screen.
"I know better than that," Jason huffed. He didn't need to be dealing with that crap along with everything else. He sat down on his bed, and Bruce sat down next to him.
"Considering you sleep with a loaded gun near your head, I have plenty of reason to ask," Bruce told him. He still couldn't believe Jay had done something that stupid.
Jason rolled his eyes. "I have to protect myself somehow." Bruce knew what it was like out there. One night, Jason had been walking to his latest home, which was a cardboard box in a dark cold alley, when one of Penguin's guys had recognized him as 'Whiskey Todd's' kid. The freak had blocked him off from the street. At that time, it was a known fact among the gangs that he would carry meth for a small fee. The man had demanded the drugs at gun point. Jason had smiled at him and said okay. Instead of drugs the man found himself looking down the barrel of a Glock. After that the gun was always on him. It kept him alive and safe.
"Do you really feel so threatened here?" Bruce asked, sadly. If that was the case he wasn't doing a very good job as a foster dad.
"Once in a while, yes. But most of the time I feel safer here than I ever have anywhere else," Jason said, looking out the window. This place was so peaceful and cut off from the rest of the world, he could almost believe Wayne Manor was the only house in the whole world. Gotham didn't exist, and neither did the horrors he'd lived through. It was all a terrible dream that he'd woken up from, and this house was where he'd always been and where he would always stay.
"Is there anything I can do to make you feel less in danger?" Bruce questioned. If there were things he could avoid that would help he would do so.
Jason shrugged. "Some of it isn't something you can do anything about. It's me expecting you to beat me. Dragging me up the stairs like that didn't really help, but I kind of had it coming."
"No, you didn't," Bruce said. He felt nothing but self-condemnation. "I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have scared you like that. You deserve better than that."
"I 'deserve' to be in juvie," Jason told him. "I stole, ran drugs and worked in a chop shop. That's not really a recommendation for a foster home." Ashley had said he deserved better. Did these people not realize what he was?
"You did what you had to," Bruce said. A thought struck him. "How did you get work in a chop shop. You have to have extensive knowledge of cars."
"I know all about cars. Cars, guns, shoplifting, and drugs pretty much make up my education," Jason said. "That's why I was taking your tires. They're bulletproof, so I could have gotten a lot for bringing them in."
"Speaking of education, I need to find you a tutor," Bruce said. There was so much to do, and so much to deal with.
Jason sighed loudly. "Why can't we just forget about that? It's not like knowing a bunch of useless facts is going to do me any good."
"I wouldn't be helping you if I didn't make you get an education. There's so much you have to learn to make it in this world," Bruce said. He suddenly took in the situation. He was sitting there with a gun, a clip, a lighter and a box of cigarettes in his hands, and he was talking about the importance of education. It was then he realized why Jason had been talking so much. "Are you using a red herring to get out of being punished?" Bruce asked. He would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed with Jason's tactic.
"What's a red herring?" Jason asked, a little confused. After realizing he wasn't going to get off with missing a dinner, he gotten Bruce talking. He knew if he brought up his education or lack thereof, Bruce would start thinking about having to find a tutor again, and he'd forget about their current issue. That had always worked on his mom.
"Misleading me by talking about something else," Bruce explained.
"Well, can you blame me for trying?" Jason shrugged. He should have known Batman wouldn't fall for that trick.
"Because you were disrespectful you are not allowed to play any video games for two weeks, and you'll be helping me clean out the garage next weekend," Bruce said after thinking for a moment. That seemed reasonable given the circumstances.
"Isn't cleaning the garage Alfred's job? I always thought you rich people never did things like that," Jason said, a little annoyed at his punishment. Bruce knew how much he loved video games, and two weeks was way too long, at least in his mind. He didn't even know if the billionaire was going to keep him around that long.
"Most don't, but I do," Bruce answered. He wasn't looking forward to Jason's first meeting with said rich people. It would be soon. The annual Wayne Manor Halloween Party was coming up soon.
"I guess I can't really argue," Jason muttered.
"Nope," Bruce said, smiling at Jay's serious expression. Some of the faces he made reminded Bruce of his own father and himself.
"I want to make a deal with you," Jason announced, without warning.
"Okay," Bruce said, not really sure what Jason had in mind. He had a difficult time reading the thief every once in a while.
"I want my gun back, loaded with rubber bullets," Jay added the second part before Batman could say 'no' outright. "And I want to work for you like Dick does. In exchange, I'll stop smoking, I'll clean up my act and I'll help Al around here."