A/N: A shorter aftermath/epilogue-but-not-really-an-epilogue that I had written up but felt more natural as a standalone chapter. Special shoutout to AllSlayer whose PM made me actually work on this fic instead of ignoring it like I 100% was for a few weeks.

Chapter 3

The air was tense when the Batmobile rolled into the cave, all of the occupant's eyes (and Barbara's video feed) focused on the vehicle. Dick peeled out as if the car was burning him, taking several quick, unsteady steps before all but collapsing to the floor.

His cowl was already off, and there were clear tear marks across his face. "He hates us," he said, voice cracking. "He hates me . "

"No, he hates me. " Bruce said, exiting the Batmobile looking even worse than his eldest son. The ride had only given him more time to wallow in his thoughts, a practice that seemed to yield only pain, never answers."You're just guilty by association."

"No," Dick shook his head. "You heard his words. He remembers everything about how I treated him. How-"

"Euuuughhhhhh, shut up already!" Steph yelled in frustration from her spot by the Batcomputer, garnering everyone's attention immediately.

She blinked for a second under the cumulative gaze of all the Bat's, but her bravado was back in a second. "The man told you both that he's gone through insane levels of trauma, including his own adoptive dad throwing a knife at his throat , and that cutting you out of his chosen family is what's best for his health, and you're takeaway is 'waah, poor me'?!"

"Steph's right," Barbara cut in over the speakers, though her voice seemed to tremble a bit. "This isn't about you two, not really. It's about Jason, and him doing what is necessary for him to have a good, healthy life."

"He said we aren't family," Dick resisted feebly. "I don't know anyone that has a good, healthy life without their family."

"He didn't say he doesn't have family," Tim corrected somberly. "In fact he was very clear that Talia, and apparently Damian, who still hasn't explained just how well knew Jason before, -" he exchanged glares with the younger boy "-are part of his family. He just said you two aren't in that family."

"Talia isn't-" Dick started, but he couldn't find the words to finish the sentence. Because really he thought as he thought back on all the things Jason said about Talia what the hell is there to say? It was far from what he'd expected, what he'd believed about the situation.

We didn't even know how he died.

"Mother has been the only one to truly keep watch over Jason since his resurrection," Damian said, breaking away from the glare he was drilling into Tim's head. "That is something we cannot dispute."

The first Robin clenched his fists open and closed, as if he wanted to argue against the statement, but once again, found himself devoid of the certainty that fueled him these past months in their search for Jason.

"No, it isn't," he said, deflating entirely.

"I told you both, this was his choice to make," Barabra said. "And he's made it."

"Yes," Bruce said, sounding more resigned than any of them have ever heard, "he has."

Bruce the father had arrived a minute late and a dollar short, and now he was reeling from the consequences. For once, Batman was silent.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Bruce, put the family before the cowl first." Jason's words had echoed in his head on the entire ride back, the final damnation against him.

"He wants something different," Cass added. "Than what you want. He is better. Happier. Stronger. Like this."

Bruce looked over to Cass, and she almosted flinched at the hurt, guilt, shame etched into his face. It was almost suffocating.

"Does he...it's that noticeable for you? That he's that much happier like this? That this, this is better for him?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation.

Bruce sucked in air like a man punched, despite expecting that answer. Besides Cass, Tim nodded in agreement. "I know it's a lot but we've all got some blame in what happened. I think we should be happy that he isn't cutting ties completely. We have to respect his wishes, as much as it hurts."

"Tt," Damian scoffed. "Of course you would buckle with a few words of praise from Jason. You always idolized him in secret Drake."

Fighting the slight crimson making its way onto his cheeks, Tim turned to glare at the youngest member of the family. "Says the guy who practically blushed when he said he remembered to cook for you! And since when do you call him by his first name?!"

"That's quite enough," Alfred interrupted, killing the argument in its tracks. "Those of us who were here when Master Jason first came to the Manor, we have all failed him in one way or another. As such, we can only take what he is willing to give now."

"Easy for you to say Alfred. You're still his grandpa," Dick said, sounding much more bitter than he intended.

"A title I am wholly undeserving of, but one I shall clutch to with my life," Alfred responded without a hint of venom. He walked up to Dick and put a comforting hand on the distraught young man's shoulders. "It has been a long night. I must insist we all retire upstairs. We can discuss our...family matters in the morning."

"Yes, Alfred's right," Bruce said, walking solemnly over to his chair. "Go on up, I'll join you all soon."

One by one they all filed their way up: Steph and Cass led the way. Dick followed while holding Damian and Tim a semi embrace that both boys did not appreciate, but let slide given the circumstances. Alfred led the rear, waiting for all the others to enter the Manor, before turning back.

Bruce sat at the Batcomputer, the file to start writing up a new report open, a sign of his typical need to always document every encounter of every night.

Even from the distance of the stairwell, Alfred could see the slight quiver of his ward's shoulders, the same tell of silent tears that a much smaller Bruce Wayned would exhibit years ago.

Something about that, seeing that same pain in the boy grown all up yet knowing that so much of it could have been avoided if someone, anyone, myself especially, had been a little more sensible. If I'd said more...objected more...put my foot down.

Alfred sighed. Regret was a familiar companion of the old. "Master Bruce," he called out, "Do not mistake this for anything but a statement of love, but I hope you remember this pain. Allow it permeate."

He noted the momentary freeze of Bruce's shoulders, before finishing, his own voice daring to crack in the face of British stoicism: "And then make sure this never happens again."

With that, he departed, leaving Bruce alone to his own thoughts, praying something good could come of this.

…

Jason woke up to the smell of hummus and pita bread and absolutely no memory of obtaining such food. Cracking his eyes open, it took him no more than half a second to recognize the roof, primarily because he'd woken up to that exact same pattern a dozen times before from this exact same spot.

He was splayed out on the couch in Talia's Gotham penthouse, the one that she'd tried to get him to live in before taking it for herself with an aggravated sigh that almost reminded him of Bruce.

Bruce.

He grimaced as the memories of the previous night rushed back.

"Well?" Talia asked, and he looked over to see her sitting on the loveseat right across from him, eyes scanning his face. She didn't need to specify what she was asking about.

Jason exhaled deeply. "Well, they didn't just try to outright kidnap me, so there's that."

"As if I would have allowed such a thing to stand."

"Of course not," Jason said, hearing the humorous tone and understanding she wasn't joking for a second.

He sat upright and reached for some food, because the street kid in him wouldn't allow him to not prioritize filling an empty stomach when the opportunity presented itself.

After swallowing a few bites to whet his appetite, he continued. "I told them what I needed to say, and I left the door open for the younger ones. And Babs and Alfred. For them to come over and get to know me, this me, not whatever image they have in their mind. Hell, I even left the door slightly cracked open for Dick in some hellish future."

"Are you doubting your decision?" she asked, causing him to pause.

Am I? he thought, pondering how he felt for a little bit.

"I'm not sure. The others, the younger ones...they weren't there before, so it's not their fault. I don't want to hold it against them. And it's not like I could cut ties with Damian. He is after all, my brother."

A smile tugged at the corner of Talia's lips. "Indeed."

"But it's a lot. I think Dick & Bruce got the message and they'll keep their distance, but who knows what'll happen if they see me out as Red Hood. And the little ones...," he let out a groan and slumped back into the couch, running his hand through his face. "Damn it they're gonna be all over me because I left that door open and Bats are clingy like that. That's gonna be a whole thing, and then there's charity and the kids, and I gotta make sure that all runs smoothly."

Jason rubbed his temples in distress. "Fuck, T. I don't know if I can do it."

"Oh?" Talia asked, eyebrow raised. "The boy who spat at Death itself doubts his time management skills?"

Jason snorted. "I thought only I could make death jokes."

"I wasn't joking. And you certainly aren't allowed to continue with those morose quips," she answered with a grimace.

Jason let himself enjoy the rest of his meal in relative silence. He was alive. He was happy to be alive. He'd aired everything out that needed to be said in Gotham. And now he had a plan, and that means, to make a difference for the downtrodden souls of Park Row. As himself, not just a vigilante.

And he had a mom he could count on.

"Thanks, T," he said, forcing himself not to get choked up. "For everything."

"Always, habibi."

A/N: MAN, it took 5 months but we're here. I'm officially marking this series and this fic complete though I won't rule out a sporadic Jason and younger bat-siblings fic on some random day when I'm bored. Thanks to everyone who read!