Chapter 15 A Fresh Start

Jason pulled his car up to the front of the manor and put the brake on. He climbed out, and made his way to the steps where three figures stood, waiting. Damian turned to Alfred and said his goodbyes as Jason made his way over; he only caught the end of the conversation.

"I assure you Master Damian, I will visit regularly to cook meals for you," Alfred assured and Damian nodded, satisfied. Then Damian turned to Bruce, who knelt and opened his arms as though to hug the boy.

"Goodbye father," Damian said stiffly, picked up one of his bags, and turned away. Jason grinned smugly as the man awkwardly stood.

"You ready to go demon brat?" Jason asked, ruffling his brother's hair. Damian swatted him away.

"Help me carry my things, Todd," Damian ordered, and Jason obliged, swinging a duffel over his shoulder that he was pretty sure contained the kids Robin gear.

"Come Titus," Damian said, as he lifted his bags and marched stiffly to the waiting car, his dog on his heels.

"Take care of him Master Jason," Alfred said gently.

"I will Alfi," Jason assured, and headed for the car before the kid tried to drive off in it by himself.

Bags safely stowed in the trunk, a huge great dane in the back seat, and his little brother in the passenger seat, Jason pulled away from the manor. He watched in the rearview mirror as Bruce and Alfred solemnly made their way back inside.

"You still sure about this?" Jason asked, glancing at the boy hunched beside him. Damian had pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, as though trying to be as small as possible.

"I am sure," Damian confirmed. "I can no longer trust father's judgment and thus think it best if I am not around him." Jason understood what the kid was thinking. If Bruce could turn on a kid who hadn't actually done anything wrong, what might he do to a kid who had killed people, even if he hadn't done so in a while. Jason wished he could assure his brother that Bruce would never hurt him, but the scar at Jason's throat would call him out on the lie.

"Well, my place isn't as grand as the manor," Jason said to fill the silence. "And my yard isn't as big; you're going to have to take Titus for a run every day to get his energy out."

"I am aware," Damian said. "I will take Cujo too if you would like, as your time will be filled taking care of Danny." The reminder hit Jason in the gut. Danny had been at Dr. Tompkins clinic for a week before he was allowed to go home, and the damage the GIW had managed to wreak in the 10 days they had him was astounding. His back was in ribbons, and his right wrist had been broken. The most traumatic damage though was to his throat. They'd finished what they'd started last time and now, Danny couldn't utter a sound. He hadn't really been lucid enough yet to find this distressing, but they were expecting it any day now. Jason had already informed Dinah that her services would be required.

"Why did father not trust us?" Damian asked, jolting Jason out of his thoughts.

"What?" Jason asked, not understanding the question.

"He captured Danny, despite all of us being friends with him. Why did he not trust us to be accurate judges of his character?" Damian clarified.

"I don't know Dami," Jason sighed. "Once Bruce get's something into his head, it takes a hell of a lot to change his mind."

"I thought he trusted me," Damian mumbled, almost too soft to hear.

"I'm sorry he broke your trust," Jason said, and they rode the rest of the way to the house in silence.

…

"Good morning, Dami," Jason greeted as Damian entered the kitchen, already awake and dressed for school.

"Good morning, To… Jason," Damian corrected. Jason wasn't sure why, but since Damian had come to live with him, he'd been making an effort to use Jason's first name. "What have you prepared for breakfast?" the kid asked.

"Omelets," Jason answered, mixing the eggs in his bowl. "You know school isn't for another hour and a half, you don't have to be ready to go the moment you come downstairs," he added, noting the school bag Damian had left at the base of the stairs. It was a habit the kid had, and Jason was just now, after two weeks, addressing it.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Damian asked, looking like he didn't understand the question.

"Because you're 12?" Jason tried, but his brother's expression remained blank. "Never mind," he decided, letting the conversation drop. Jason went back to his cooking and Damain sat at the counter, picking at the bowl of grapes. Jason was scrambling for something to break the silence when Damian said, "I have an ice hockey game this weekend."

"Oh, I didn't know you played," Jason turned back to his little brother, startled. Damian just shrugged.

"We never really talked about it. And father didn't want you to know," he admitted after a moment.

"Ah," Jason said, understanding. He and Danny hadn't been welcome. And the kid probably hadn't mentioned his practice after school out of habit.

"Will you and Danny come?" Damian asked, and Jason was surprised to hear a sort of wariness in the kid's voice, like he desperately wanted them to, but wasn't going to get his hopes up lest he be disappointed.

"I'll be there kid," Jason assured. "I can't promise Danny yet. I still can barely get him out of the house to go to therapy with Dinah." Damian hummed in understanding.

"How is he doing today?" Damian asked after another moment of silence.

"He's still asleep," Jason admitted. "Leslie said to let him sleep as much as he wants till he's healed."

"He's not healing as fast as he should," Damian said, it wasn't a question.

"No," Jason sighed. "It's been three weeks, and by all past accounts, he should be back on his feet by now. But his healing factor doesn't seem to be working."

"Tim was saying his core might have been damaged," Damian admitted.

"Yeah, he told me that too," Jason agreed.

"Is that all it is?" Damian asked.

"I don't know kiddo," Jason sighed. "I hope so. Otherwise he seems mostly fine. He, well, he doesn't talk, but we have conversations."

"Have you suggested sign language?" Damian asked. "Father had all of us learn it. I could offer to teach it to him."

"Yeah, I did," Jason said, setting a plate of food in front of Damian. "But he's not ready yet. I don't think it's really set in that this might be permanent you know? I think he's still hoping his healing factor might kick in and he'll get better. Writing stuff down works well enough for now, but…"

"But what about when he goes back on patrol," Damian finished for him, knowing where a vigilante's mind went.

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "He still hasn't tried to use his powers yet, thank god. Leslie says he shouldn't till he's fully healed, but, you and I both know it's hard to stay out of the field for that long."

"You should insist he learn," Damian said between bites of food. "Perhaps you could frame it as something that might be useful on a mission some day."

"That's actually a good idea," Jason pondered. "Okay, eat your food and feed the dogs. I'm going to feed Casper." Jason grabbed the other two plates of food and headed for the stairs.

When he opened the door to his and Danny's room, both Titus and Cujo, who had become fast friends, bolted around his feet and down the stairs for their breakfast. Both dogs had taken it upon themselves to protect Danny whenever Jason wasn't there, as though they knew the fragile state the halfa was in.

"Danny, you up?" Jason asked, flicking on the light. A pillow came flying at his head and Jason barely managed to keep from dropping the food.

"Hey, I brought you food. Don't throw things at me," Jason complained. Danny sat up and glared at him, shielding his eyes from the light and hissing like a cat, a noise you surprisingly don't need your vocal cords to make. Danny was quickly finding any way he could make noise, and hissing was fast becoming his favorite way to show displeasure.

"Oh shut up you angry cat," Jason teased as he sat on the bed. He handed a plate and fork to Danny, who awkwardly balanced the food on his knee and tried to use his left hand to eat, his right wrist still bound up in a cast. He was getting better at using his non-dominant hand.

"Damian wants us to go to his hockey game this weekend," Jason said between bites. Danny tilted his head, questioning.

"Yeah, I know," Jason scoffed. "Bruce didn't want us to know he played." Danny huffed in disbelief.

"Will you come with me?" Jason asked. Danny frowned at him. He set his fork down and made a grabbing motion toward the side table that Jason was next to. Jason knew what he wanted and handed him the pen and notepad that was sitting there. Danny snatched it and quickly started scribbling, his left handed writing nearly illegible but Jason managed to read the words: I don't know. We'll see. My back hurts.

"It's not for a few days," Jason said. "And are your pain meds not working?" Danny scrunched up his face and Jason sighed deeply.

"Danny, you're supposed to tell me when they stopped working," he groaned.

Meds don't work on me, Danny scribbled.

"Danny, the League is used to metas," Jason sighed. "They could figure out something that will work on you." Danny shook his head.

"You wouldn't have to go to a hospital," Jason said, still exasperated. "They could come here." Danny shook his head harder. "Or we could go to the WatchTower. You already go there for therapy." Danny shoveled more food into his mouth.

"Why won't you let them find meds for you?" Jason finally asked, near the end of his rope. Danny angrily set his plate down and picked up the notepad. I don't want them taking my blood.

"They aren't going to do anything evil with it," Jason assured.

Someone else could steal it.

"Danny, the WatchTower is one of the most secure places in the world," Jason groaned. "In fact, it's not even on this world, so that probably makes it even more secure. No one is going to get your blood. Pluss, what are you even worried about them doing with it?"

Cloning.

"Oh," Jason said, stunned. "Yeah, that's actually probably a very real concern," he admitted. Danny rolled his eyes and finished his food.

"Do you want to come with me to drop Damian off at school?" Jason asked. "It'll save me the trip back here to pick you up for therapy." Danny sighed and flopped over till he was leaving his full weight against Jason's side. Jason wrapped an arm around him, careful of his back, and kissed the top of his head.

"You're going to be okay love," Jason whispered.

"Jason!" Damian called from downstairs. "If you don't move your ass I'm going to be late for school!"

"I swear, teaching that kid to curse was a mistake," Jason muttered. Danny huffed in a way that Jason had learned was a laugh. Hearing what had once been a noise that sent Jason's heart fluttering stripped of its joyous sound nearly broke something inside him, but he powered through the moment and went about getting dressed.

...

"Have a good day Damian!" Jason called as the kid scrambled out of the car in front of the school. Danny, who was sitting in the passenger seat waved. Damian waved back before turning to a boy waiting for him and walking into the building. Jason was glad to see even the demon brat had managed to make a friend. Jason was interrupted from watching his brother by a tug on his shirt sleeve.

"Yeah?" Jason asked, turning to Danny, who held up a phone. It was open to a notes app, and the words, 'Burgers after therapy?' and been written on it.

"Hell yeah," Jason agreed to the request, and pulled away from the school to let other parents drop off their kids.

…

Jason thought the therapy was going well, he didn't know what they talked about and neither party would tell him, but Danny always seemed a little lighter when he came out. Tired, but lighter.

They went for burgers afterward, parking outside one of Jason's favorite dinners. Danny wasn't up for going inside, so Jason left the car running and went in himself. He ordered the food and stood off to the side to wait. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. He immediately answered it.

"Jay!" Roy greeted enthusiastically.

"Hey man," Jason greeted back. "What's up?"

"Me and Kori just planted feet back on earth," Roy explained. "Figured I'd give you a call, since, you know, you NEVER CALLED US BACK!" he yelled into the phone and Jason had to pull it away from his ear.

"Shit, sorry," Jason cursed. "It's been a busy month."

"So I hear," Roy said, his tone gentler. "Kori said that Dick said you found your boy?"

"Yeah, we found Danny," Jason confirmed.

"Good, good, how is he?" Roy asked. Jason leaned his head against the window, looking down the street toward his car where he could just make out Danny sitting with his feet up on the dash, head bobbing to whatever music was playing.

"He's doing better," Jason decided. "He's also been better, but he's doing better. Still can't handle crowds yet. Not that he was really one for them before."

"I know the feeling," Roy sighed.

"When can we meet him!" Kori yelled from somewhere near Roy.

"Damn Kori," Roy complained. "Don't blow my eardrums out. But yeah man, when can we meet your boyfriend?"

"I'll have to ask him," Jason said, unsure. "I don't want to dump new people on him if he isn't ready, you know?"

"We know," Roy confirmed. "Talk to him and let us know. And call me back, okay?"

"I will," Jason confirmed. The woman behind the counter waved him down, signaling that his food was ready. "Hey, I gotta go. My food is ready."

"Cool, cool. Call me!" Roy ordered.

"I will, bye," Jason said, hanging up before Roy could say it back, as was tradition.

…

Jason whooped and hollered along with the rest of the crowd, encouraging Damian's team to victory. Danny sat beside him, stamping his feet when appropriate. Gotham took all sports seriously, no matter the kind or skill of the players. Though, Jason was not at all surprised to find that Damian was extremely skilled. He wasn't the best, the ice seemed to give him trouble, and having grown up in the desert Jason could understand that. But his hand eye coordination, stamina, and aggressiveness on the ice were unmatched.

When the game was over, with a landslide victory to Damian's team, Jason quickly leapt out of the stands with Danny in tow to congratulate his brother.

"Congratulations little bro," Jason said, ruffling the kid's hair, which he would have regretted if he hadn't been wearing mittens, the kid had worked up a sweat. Danny offered Damian a high five, which the kid accepted. Danny didn't wear mittens, or anything more than a light sweater. Apparently it was a ghost thing. Ice core, or something.

"You wanna get ice cream?" Jason asked.

"Sure," Damian said, but he seemed distracted, eyes scanning the crowds and stands as though looking for something. Jason's heart panged when he realized what, or rather, who, the kid was looking for.

"He didn't come, kiddo," Jason said gently. Damian scoffed.

"I was not looking for father," he spat the word, like that would make it hurt less. Jason knew it wouldn't. "I was looking for Dick!" he lied.

"He had work," Jason reminded him. "And Tim is out on a mission with the Titans, now that he's healed."

"I was just checking," Damian said, sticking to his story. "You know how Dick loves surprises."

"Come on," Jason encouraged, changing the subject. "Go get dressed and we'll get ice cream."

"I'll only be a few minutes," Damian said, before he marched away, stiff backed. Danny pulled on his sleeve and handed him his phone.

He was looking for Bruce, wasn't he.

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "I think he was."

…

Jason stepped out into the back yard for a smoke break. The whole gang had piled into his house for Sunday dinner. Alfred had shown up to cook, Jason insisted he help as it was his house, and now the whole crew had invaded his living room with Smash Brothers and were busy virtually kicking eachother's asses. Jason had been having a good time, but he needed a second to breath. He was overjoyed to see Danny really smile for the first time since they'd rescued him though, and was already making plans to have this be a regular thing.

He sighed as he took a deep breath of smoke and sat down on one of the lawn chairs near the unused fire pit. He was hoping to have fires out here when the weather warmed up a bit, but he had to get some better chairs first. The plastic thing he was sitting on was temporary.

Cujo came out the dog door and sniffed around the yard for a bit. The little pit was growing fast, and could already keep up with Damian and Titus on their runs. Suddenly, Cujo faced the fence and the hackles on his back went up. He growled low and Jason stood to look over the fence.

On two sides of the fence were the yards of the neighboring houses, but that's not where Cujo was looking. He was facing the back of the fence, where there was nothing but an empty lot. Jason squinted into the dark, he could just barely see over the tall fence, and just made out the shape of a man, a familiar silhouette. He let out a deep sigh, and headed for the back gate, patting the dog on the way and assuring him that he was okay. He slipped through the gate as quietly as he could, and latched it behind him. He stubbed his cigarette out on the wood before crossing his arms.

"What do you want, Bruce?" Jason asked darkly. The man was dressed in dark jeans and a simple black coat, not something that Jason had ever seen him in, but clearly meant to blend into the middle class neighborhood. The man didn't say anything for a moment, and Jason glanced back over the fence. There wasn't a window into the backyard from the living room, but if anyone came into the kitchen for more snacks, they might see two figures on the other side of the fence and come to investigate.

"Let's walk," Jason said, and marched across the empty lot and toward the street. Bruce followed. Once they were a safe distance from the house, Jason asked again, "Why are you here?"

"I was just checking," Bruce grumbled.

"Checking what?" Jason asked, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other so he didn't put his fist through the man's head.

"On all of you," Bruce said. "Damian," he finally clarified. "Is he doing well?"

"Kid's fine," Jason confirmed. "He won his game. Not that you wouldn't know that since you weren't there."

"I knew he won," Bruce said, and Jason had to stop walking to glare at him.

"Are you having us watched or something?" he growled.

"School website," Bruce clarified, not looking at all intimidated by Jason's death glare.

"Oh," Jason said, dropping his shoulders. He hadn't even realized he'd raised them. He started walking again. Jason thought for a long time before he said, "You know, Damian was looking for you at the game. Why weren't you there? It's not like I could have stopped you."

"I didn't think I would be welcome," Bruce admitted.

"Oh my god," Jason groaned, running his hands through his hair. "You really suck at this whole, being a father thing, don't you."

"Then help me," Bruce said, stopping Jason in his tracks. He turned to look at the man, really look at him, and he saw the grief on his face, the bags under his eyes. He looked like crap.

"I'm sorry Jason," Bruce said, and for once, Jason believed it. He heard the desperation in his voice and could see the slump of his shoulders. "I'm sorry for everything. I didn't mean to lose you all. I was trying to...I was trying to protect you."

"Who talked to you?" Jason asked, crossing his arms.

"What?" Bruce asked, taken aback.

"I seriously doubt you came to this conclusion on your own, so I want to know, who talked to you?" Jason clarified. Bruce rubbed the back of his neck.

"Clark," he said, and Jason whistled.

"Boy Scout chewed you out?" he asked, impressed. Bruce nodded.

"He helped me realize where my priorities are," Bruce said.

"And where is that?" Jason asked, an eyebrow raised.

"My children," Bruce said, looking at Jason like he was included in that. "And the people they love." That hit Jason in the chest. He wanted this, wanted to accept that maybe Bruce was learning, but he wasn't the one the man had hurt the worst, not this time. Jason's wounds were older, they would take longer to heal. There where other people Bruce needed to make up to before Jason would believe he'd really changed.

"I don't know how to fix this," Bruce admitted, and Jason took a deep breath.

"It's not my job to teach you how to be a dad," Jason said.

"Please," Bruce begged, actually begged. "What do I need to do?" Jason took another deep breath, fighting the green that threatened to rise in his chest. He needed to keep his anger under control. He didn't know why Bruce was asking this shit of him, his least stable son, but Damian didn't deserve Jason ruining this because he couldn't control his anger.

"You need to father your kid," Jason said, and Bruce looked surprised like he wasn't expecting an answer, or maybe just not that one.

"Damian won't answer my calls," Bruce said, and Jason swallowed a growl.

"You have other kids," Jason said, and Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I don't know Bruce, call Dick, or Tim. Ask them to dinner, tell them you love them, or take Dickhead to a circus, he loves those. Tim loves to take pictures, take him to a garden or something. Steph would probably be happy with food, and Cass would love a play or ballet. Damian loves animals. Ask him to the zoo. Show up to his games. When he looked for you and you weren't there he covered his disappointment with anger. You let him keep doing that and he will start to think he actually hates you."

"He doesn't," Bruce asked, sounding surprised.

"Maybe a little," Jason admitted, and Bruce flinched. "But mostly I think he's disappointed in you." Bruce's shoulders fell, before he took a deep breath and squared them again, determined.

"And you?" Bruce asked.

"What about me?" Jason asked, confused.

"What do you want to me to do?" he clarified. Jason scoffed.

"I don't want anything from you Bruce," Jason said, and Bruce's expression fell again. "You're the reason I don't get to hear my boyfriend laugh anymore," Jason said, but there wasn't as much anger to the words as he was expecting. Still, Bruce hung his head, and Jason continued. "Danny is hurting really badly, and that hurts me. I'm not ready to forgive you. I don't know if I ever will be. But you can make it up to me by being a father to the people who want you to be their father." Bruce looked up, and Jason could see the tears in his eyes.

"There's a house full of people back there that will forgive you if you give them a reason to believe you've changed," Jason gestured back down the street. "So don't waste your time on me right now. Just be a fucking dad." The two men stood in silence for a while, Bruce wiping his face with his sleeve. Finally, Bruce spoke.

"Thank you, Jay," he said softly. "I'm going to try to make it up to everyone, if it's the last thing I do."

"Whatever old man," Jason said, but the words were more playful than cruel. He started walking back toward his house, shivering slightly in the cold. He hadn't noticed it before, but he had only thrown a light jacket on when he went outside, and the weather had turned cold.

"Jay," Bruce called and Jason looked over his shoulder.

"I love you," he said, and the words struck something deep in Jason's chest. He didn't say them back, just turned and waved, heading back to his home. He didn't know what to do with those words, so he tucked them away, to think about later. He wasn't ready yet to decide if he still loved his dad or not. He would just have to wait and see.

This was in the plan from the very beginning and I'm not sure how you'll take it. I know some of you were riding the Bruce hate train really hard, so please, let me write this. I'm projecting super hard right now, writing what I wish my own parent would do. I'm not going to make it easy for Bruce, he's got to earn it, but he really wants to change. Anyway, let me know what you think.