Fuck you, universe. Jason thought savagely as he turned around to look at a young Tim Drake.
Said young Tim Drake was looking at him as if he was seeing a ghost. Which, honestly, was not all that far off from the truth.
"Timothy," Cass said, surprise in her voice. At the sound of it, Jason allowed all the negative feelings inside to diffuse away. As much as it sucked to have Tim show up so unexpectedly, Jason couldn't help but be happy to see him.
"Yeah, Cass," He said softly, moving forward to greet the de-aged shadow of his favorite brother, "Timothy."
Because that's what Tim was in the end. As much as he loved Dick and Damian, as much as he had mourned them, Tim was unequivocally his favorite brother. They understood each other in a way the others couldn't, isolated and cast out from the family as they were. Even as Jason grew older and realized that wasn't entirely true, that it was also his own issues and pride that were preventing the gap from being bridged, that camaraderie remained.
Tim had confessed a similar opinion about Jason as well, right before he embarked on that final face-off against Luthor to save—Don't go there Jason, don't. Jason had been his favorite brother, because Jason never bullshitted him on anything. The two of them always knew where they stood with each other (except that wasn't true, because Jason had stopped hating Tim long before he had said as much to his face). It was why Tim had willed him Wayne Enterprises instead of Damian; because despite all their differences, he and Jason were cut from the same kind of cloth, and he knew Jason wouldn't allow those corporate scumbags to walk all over him any more than Tim had.
After Tim died, Jason had Artemis take care of Gotham while he went on a three-day bender with his sister. He spent a fourth day with the worst hangover of his life, and it still didn't feel like enough to drown out the pain. He didn't think he'd ever feel so shitty again until Damian bit it six months later and left Jason and Cass the last of Bruce's original brood of children. It had been a terrible year all around, and if it hadn't been for Carrie, Jason was positive he would've followed his brothers not long after.
(When he took her on as his first Robin, Jason had never felt more like Bruce in his life.)
"Jason… Todd?" Tim almost squeaked.
Damian let out a derisive snort. It seemed that their relationship wouldn't be all that different in this timeline either.
Completely aware of the panic that Dick was experiencing behind them, Jason's smile widened in a genuine manner, and he moved closer to Tim. Once he was in arm's reach, he stuck his arm out. No hugs yet. He doesn't know yet. Jason reminded himself.
"Yup!" Jason said, completely aware how uncharacteristically cheery he sounded. He heard Dick make a sound like he was dying, and his grin grew. "Tim Drake, right? My successor?"
Instead of answering or taking Jason's hand, Tim turned to look at Dick in a zombie-like manner. Jason was instantly reminded of early mornings in the Manor where Tim would act similarly until he had gone through at least three cups of coffee. Sometimes two, depending how many energy drinks he managed to sneak past Alfred.
He felt the desire to cry again, and squashed it down hard.
Then, his senses suddenly went on alert. Tim seemed to accept that he was Jason Todd, but when their eyes met again, Jason could see the underlying suspicion in his gaze. It was in that moment that Jason realized he hadn't indicated to Dick that he was aware of his successor's existence at all. The only acknowledgment of Tim's presence that Jason had was Alfred's idle mention of him when they first arrived. Only Bruce or Tim himself could have deduced the idea of another Robin from that little evidence. Combined with the fact that both Cass and Damian were clearly aware of who Tim was…
Ah, hell. Whatever. It's not like the ruse is going to last much longer anyway.
Jason felt positively serene.
Or numb.
Whichever worked.
"So you're our other brother," Damian said, disgust obvious in his tone. "You don't look particularly impressive."
Tim would've taken offense to that, except he was stuck on something else Damian said. "B-Brother?"
Oh, right, Tim hasn't been adopted yet. His dad's still alive.
…Eh, whatever. He's still one of ours. He might as well get used to the idea now.
"Yes. Just like how Richard is our brother as well, or how Cassandra will be our sister when Father gets around to adopting her."
"Damian," Dick snaked into the conversation, having finally gotten over the shock of having his successors meet, "I know we haven't been family for long, and that you're probably missing your mom and all, but don't you think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself?"
Damian blinked, and scoffed. "What are you talking about? It was Jason who told me this."
Sold out by my own little brother. How the mighty have fallen.
Dick turned to Jason with a stare full of disbelief. Jason smiled back at him beatifically. It was probably the most disturbing thing Dick had ever seen.
"Jason, what exactly have you been telling these kids?"
"The truth," Jason responded blandly. Which was true. In the technical sense.
Dick made a gagging sound. "Jason—"
"C'mon, Dick. Like you don't see the kid as another brother. And once B hears Cass's story, there's no way he's not going to adopt her," Jason shrugged, "I was just taking initiative."
That statement did absolute jack shit to help. Dick's jaw dropped, while Tim seemed to have completely shut down. He kept mumbling to himself in an increasingly hurried manner that Jason was only vaguely familiar with. The comedic aspect of the scene would've been rather appealing, had Jason not completely inured himself to all emotion for the time being.
Cass, sweet, wonderful Cass, simply patted Dick on the arm. She then gave Tim a hug, squealing "Little brother!" and sending the boy back into another apoplexy.
Jason was so proud of her. It had taken forever to teach her that phrase and the context of it. She had taken to the concept admirably.
Damian just gave them all a displeased look and threw his hands in the air, leaving to get more lemonade from Alfred.
By the time Damian returned with the lemonade, the situation seemed to have finally calmed down. Cass had let go of Tim and was standing next to Jason, who was showing her the Bat-Computer. Tim himself was in a far-off corner of the Cave, exchanging furious whispers with Dick. There was no doubt about what they were discussing.
Jason was okay with it.
Really.
It was almost time anyway.
An audible ping! echoed throughout the Cave. Everyone froze.
Alfred was already in the cave, having brought out a full pitcher of lemonade with Damian. That meant there could be only one other person who had the means and reason to use that elevator. The one person that everyone, subconsciously or not, had all been waiting for.
"Alfred, I got your message. What's the emerg—"
Jason stepped forward, and smiled.
"Hey, Dad."
For the last three and a half months, Jason tried not to think about Bruce.
'Try', of course, being the operative word.
He didn't know how he was going to react when he saw Bruce again. He just didn't. Would he act like his Robin or as a fellow Batman? Would he smile and laugh or break down in inconsolable tears?
(Well, actually, that last one was kind of a given. Jason had literally been trying to stall a breakdown for the last three months, and other than that slip with Dick he had mostly succeeded.)
Would he rail against him for leaving behind a legacy that got three of his children, Jason's brothers, killed? That forced Jason to take on responsibilities he was in no way prepared for, forced him to live with the guilt of having a legacy that he never once thought belonged to him?
Would he love him?
Or would he hate him?
Looking at him now, at how utterly broken Bruce was, and Jason had his answer. Or at least something of an answer; things were rarely ever that simple with these kinds of things, especially with this family.
"It's me," Jason said softly, nodding to the computer screen that showed his blood to be a match for the one on record. "It's me, B."
"How…?" Bruce was at a complete loss for words. Everyone was watching the scene, though careful not to interrupt it; all of them, even Damian, knew how intimate and personal this moment was.
"I don't know," Jason admitted, and it was true, because he didn't know how he ended up here, in this place, in this body, reliving one of his most heartbreaking fantasies, "I remembered waking up in the Lazarus Pit, in Talia's arms. Everything before that is a blur. But it's me, Bruce," he took another deep breath, "It's me."
Bruce seemed to regain a little of his composure at that, his head finally getting out of the fog. "I'll have to call in Diana," he choked out, "Have her… have her confirm your story."
Jason smiled. "That's fine. It'll be nice, seeing her again."
A second later, Jason crashed into the tightest hug he had ever had in his life. Bruce was holding him close, so close, nuzzling his neck with so much love and affection it was smothering. Jason happily drowned it, in a feeling he didn't think he would ever have again. Not until he was dead for good, at least.
"I missed you, Jay-lad," Bruce whispered, the wetness of his tears bleeding into Jason's jacket. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too, B," Jason whispered back, similarly emotional. "I love you."
"I love you too."
They stayed in that embrace for a long while, just savoring each other's presence. Everyone else seemed to content to leave them as they were. Jason was fine with that. He was more than fine, in fact.
Eventually, however, all things had to come to an end. They reluctantly let go, Jason idly wiping his face with the sleeve of his clothes. Bruce took a deep sigh, and turned to look at Cass and Damian, who had moved to stand next to each other when Bruce arrived. The first Batman took one look at them, zeroed in on Damian, and blanched.
"Hello, Father," Damian greeted him dryly, taking a noisy sip of his lemonade. "I imagined you taller."
"Bruce!" Cass said cheerfully, giving a little wave with her hand.
Bruce, for his part, looked completely poleaxed. Jason spotted Dick, Tim, and Alfred all exchanging grins, and resisted the urge to do the same. All the terror he felt about coming here ebbed away; the stress of the situation was worth it for just seeing Bruce so completely out of his depth for once.
"Who—Wha?" Bruce blinked, jaw hanging low.
Jason, taking pity, decided to illuminate him. He went to Cass and clapped his hand on one of her shoulders. "This is Cassandra. She's the daughter of David Cain. You're going to adopt her."
"…what?" His father's voice took on a decidedly high pitch, and Jason relished it.
"And this," Jason continued on as if Bruce hadn't spoken, gesturing to the youngest person in the cave, "Is Damian. He's your son with Talia."
"WHAT?" Bruce looked ready to faint.
Jason considered that a job well done.
"I'm adopting you," Bruce stated, deadly serious. His eyes were completely fixated on Cass who, for her part, tilted her head and gave him a smile. Jason watched the scene and again tried to bury his laughter.
After Bruce regained his bearings over… well, everything, Alfred suggested that they move the talk somewhere more comfortable — more specifically, upstairs in the Manor. It seemed he had been planning on that for a while now, seeing as the main living room had a tray of sandwiches and another pitcher of lemonade and cups sitting on the coffee table. Once they were comfortably seated, the discussions began.
Jason, of course, went first. Explaining the basics of his resurrection, Talia's part in it, his move to the All-Caste. He glossed over how, exactly, Damian and Cass came into his care (something that went unnoticed by nobody, not that he particularly cared anymore), what he had done to prepare them for the trip to Gotham — generally everything that happened up until the moment the trio had met up with Dick.
Dick corroborated with the tale, picking up where Jason left off. Bruce probed for some of the details, but seemed to accept what they (or, more specifically, Jason) wanted to part. He then turned his attentions to Cass's situation, and why exactly Jason seemed so convinced that Bruce was going to adopt her.
The accompanying story was so horrific that Jason could clearly tell that Bruce was resisting the urge to smother her with hugs. What made it worse was that Cass seemed to understand some of what was being said due to body language, but it was clear that the specifics were completely lost on her. The sad reality was that everyone knew Cassandra's story except Cassandra herself. That, if anything, perhaps motivated Bruce to take her in even more.
"I told you," Jason gleefully threw in Damian's face.
The boy in question sighed, and took another audible sip of his lemonade in rebellion. Dick watched the interaction in complete fascination.
Tim had more pressing matters, "So, um… what do we do now?"
Everyone immediately turned to look at him. He almost shrunk into himself at suddenly being the center of attention.
"Well, first things first," Jason said, taking charge, "I'm no longer Robin, and you have my approval." He reached over to slap a congratulatory pat on Tim's back. "Congrats, kid!"
"…thank you?" Tim was staring at Jason as if he was some confusing creature from another dimension. Which wasn't far off from the truth either. Bruce and Dick were hardly any better, not expecting Jason to take his sudden succession so well.
"Yes, very well. Thank you for clarifying that, young sir," Alfred stood up and loudly clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention to him. "The real first order of business is getting everyone settled. While I have cleared out rooms for Master Damian and Miss Cassandra to use, along with your old one as well Master Jason, we still need to buy more clothes for you to wear. It's not too late in the afternoon to do some shopping, so the four of us will go into the city and pick up a few things. Anything we can't find today we'll go and buy either tomorrow or sometime during the next week. Is that satisfactory?"
"Very," Jason grinned, hopping out of his seat and taking Cass by the hand with him. She followed him without protest. Damian polished off the last of his lemonade and sandwich and followed them and Alfred to the garage.
They waited until they heard the tell-tale sound of an engine starting, followed by the screech of tires speeding away. Immediately, the expressions on the remaining three men in the room morphed into ones far more serious and calculating.
"He's hiding something," Dick bluntly stated to the silent room. Bruce rubbed his temples, nodding, while Tim pulled up his knees, hugging them to his chest.
"What was Jason like, before…" He didn't say the rest.
"Nowhere near as upbeat as the one we're dealing with," Bruce answered wearily. "He was more… surly. He could be charming, make no mistake, and when he was happy you could tell no matter how many cutting remarks left his mouth. But Jason grew up in Crime Alley, trying to survive being gobbled by the worst of the worst. A childhood like that leaves a chip on your shoulder, and Jason wore his with caustic honesty."
"Also, although I wasn't around as much as I should've been," Dick looked remorseful for a moment at the admission, "I distinctly remember Jay swearing more frequently back then than he has since I met up with him. Like, a lot more."
Tim rubbed his shoulders, over the spot where Jason had playfully slapped him. "Are we sure it's him?"
Bruce and Dick exchanged silent looks.
"Blood tests don't lie," Dick pointed out, then paused. "Usually." He amended after further thought.
"And he agreed to let Diana question him with the Lasso of Truth," Bruce grunted, following the train of thought.
"So it's probably him, but something happened that he couldn't say around Damian and Cass. At the same time, it's also something he thinks we wouldn't believe without verification, hence why he agreed to having the Lasso of Truth used on him," Tim instantly surmised. Bruce and Dick both shot him proud smiles, causing him to blush.
"Good detective work, Tim," Dick tacked on, causing him to flush deeper. "So I guess we just wait for Diana?"
Bruce nodded. "I'll give her a call right now." He got up to leave, though paused when he saw a contemplative look on his current Robin's face. "Tim?"
Instead of answering his mentor, Tim turned to Dick instead. "You remember when I first got to the Cave? How he accepted me so easily? How odd that was?"
"Yeah. Rather shocking," Dick replied, rubbing the back of his head. He had originally chocked it up to Jason remembering Dick's own reaction to his presence and deciding that he would treat his successor better, but now that Tim was pointing it out…
"I remember the moment he saw me. Really saw me," Tim said, voice almost detached. "He looked like… like he knew me. Not of me, but me. And his expression, it was…"
"It was what?" Bruce prompted him.
"… it was full of love."
Both of the older men in the room blanched.
"You mean—"
Tim's eyes widened as he suddenly realized the possible interpretation of his words, and shook his head vigorously. "No, not like that! Not romantic love…" He let his knees collapse so they could see his face, "…but the kind of love he has for you. For Damian and Cassandra. For Alfred. Real, familial love. The look he shot at me, that he kept shooting at me, he shot at all of you at different points of both conversations, both down in the Cave and here. I even saw it in his eyes when he told me-"
Tim took a deep breath, and continued. "That kind of love… that only comes with time. Time, and meaningful interaction. And no matter how approving he was of me, we've only met today. I guarantee it. So why…" He petered off, but the question was there.
Bruce and Dick exchanged meaningful looks at the end of Tim's observation, full of confusion and wonder.
Bruce exhaled deeply. "I'm calling Diana. Now."
"I'm surprised you aren't being recognized," Damian said conversationally as they waited for Cass to finish browsing the undergarments section with Alfred. "Aren't you publicly known as Father's son?"
Jason shrugged. "Like I told you before, dad knew that mixing me with high society wouldn't end well, so I didn't have to attend any of his high-profile gatherings. That also included keeping me away from the press; the only people that would be able to recognize me are old classmates from Gotham Academy, and nobody is going to believe a dead teenager is walking around."
Damian hummed, watching as Cass held up a bra to her chest, over her shirt. "Meeting Father was exactly like you said it'd be."
"Oh?" Jason looked amused, "And what exactly did I say it would be?"
"He has a strong presence, and just by looking at him I can tell that he's a dangerous man. Possibly as dangerous as Grandfather, if I am to be honest. But as a parent, he's… awkward, to say the least," the seven-year-old blew out a deep breath, "You were right. He is great, but he is not perfect. And still, I find myself impressed by him all the same," Damian narrowed his eyes, "I wish I could say the same for Drake."
"Drake? What happened to Timothy?" It wasn't an admonishment; if anything, Jason looked even more amused.
"He can re-earn the right to have me use his first name after he proves his worth," Damian huffed. "Until then, I will refer to him as such."
Jason covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. No, that relationship hadn't changed at all. At least it was like this instead of Damian trying to murder Tim every time they made eye contact. Poor Alfred didn't need to deal with the collateral damage that would come of that, and Dick wouldn't be around all the time to play mediator.
Soon, Cass had finished shopping for bras and panties and the trip continued on. About an hour later, Jason spotted the book store. One look at Alfred's encouraging expression and a credit card later, he was inside and happily browsing. While his love of reading had never waned, his free time was cut down drastically after he became Batman, even more so when he essentially started a family with his Robins. Now, he had all the time in the world to read, and he was going to use it.
Going over the extensive selection, he picked up some classics for himself that he knew weren't in his current collection at the Manor. He picked up some young adult books that he knew that Damian would enjoy, some true crime and detective novels that Tim would eat up, and some simpler books for Cass when they started teaching her how to read. The basket was almost overflowing by the time he was finished, but he carried it no problem to the cashier, a bored girl around his physical age.
She took one look at him and at the pile of books he was carrying with no effort whatsoever and immediately started hitting on him. Her flirtatious tone and innuendo-laden remarks had absolutely no effect on Jason, who smiled politely at her the entire time and thanked her quietly when she was done. When he was outside, he discreetly took out one of his books and threw out the phone number she had slipped inside the front cover.
He had no interest in a civilian girl old enough to be his daughter.
(Mentally speaking, of course.)
He—
No Jason, don't go there. You've avoided thinking about her for this long.
Jason met them outside the store, Alfred having deemed they had bought a sufficient number of clothes for them to at least last the week. They piled their purchases into the back of the car, and drove back to the Manor. Upon arrival, they were met with Dick and Tim, who had been instructed to help carry their purchases into the house and into the rooms Alfred had chosen for them. Alfred himself had made a beeline for the kitchen, declaring that he needed to prepare dinner.
While Dick handled Damian and Tim aided Cass (something he would dearly regret, Jason was certain), Jason had opted to go to his own room by himself. He stared at the door for a moment, which suddenly looked so much taller and wider than it actually was, before steeling himself and opening it. The knob turned easily, though there was some creaking that denoted prior long-term disuse.
The moment he stepped inside, it took Jason everything he had not to collapse. He set down his purchases on the bed, sitting down on the foot of the mattress to just observe a room that hadn't been his in decades.
The walls were covered in posters. Some were of pretty girls in scantily clad clothing (Jason couldn't help but wince at those), some were of motorcycles, but most were of theater productions. Jason, after all, almost loved Shakespeare as much as he did Jane Austen, much to Alfred's delight.
There was a guitar propped up in the corner, one that he faintly remembered strumming along with his off-tune voice. A desk, cleaned and with old notebooks stacked on it. A large book case that, even with Jason's rapidly multiplying collection, had never been close to being full. An old video game console that was probably barely operational — he would have to check with Tim to make sure — and a pile of cartridges beside it (he was surprised Alfred let that stand, regardless of Jason's death). A calendar for 2009, flipped to April. Jason looked at it, and it averted his eyes when he landed on the twenty-seventh.
This was a teenager's room.
A child's room.
Not yet. Not yet. They don't know yet.
"Jay-lad?"
Jason looked up to see Bruce standing in his doorway. How unexpected. He didn't think Bruce would be willing to come anywhere near here, even with Jason back from the dead.
Bruce stepped gingerly over the threshold, as if he were trespassing. As if he were afraid Jason would snap at him for entering this sanctuary. He audibly cleared his throat, and gave his second son a small, comforting smile.
"Would you like some help?"
Jason took another look around the room, and nodded sheepishly.
They finished placing everything in an hour. Most of that time had been spent reorganizing Jason's mini-library, which was originally sorted by color. Jason, finding that juvenile, had it re-sorted so it was organized by publication date and genre instead. Bruce was distinctly amused, and had played the part of assistant by reading off titles and giving books for his son to place. After they were done, Jason had absconded over to Cass's room, where he relieved a grateful Tim of the duty of organizing her undergarments.
By the time they were done with everything, Alfred was just about finished with dinner. Bruce was about to ask Dick and Jason to help set the table, but the doorbell ringing for the second time today had changed those plans. Tim was the one to open the Manor's doors, blinking when he saw who it was.
Diana, in her civvies, was not entirely unexpected. But bringing Clark alongside her certainly was.
"Hey Tim!" The Last Son of Krypton grinned.
"Clark," Bruce butted in immediately, silently allowing Tim to escape the possibly awkward conversation.
"I hope you don't mind, Bruce," Diana piped up, "I was just finishing up a case in Metropolis with him, and when I mentioned your call he asked if he could come. Lois is still on assignment over in England, and he didn't want to spend the night alone."
"Plus I wanted some of Alfred's cooking."
"Plus that," the Amazon added.
Bruce sighed. "It's fine. Come inside; I need to introduce you to some people."
Clark and Diana took to Cassandra's presence relatively well. Damian's… well, there was some cooing involved, though to the boy's credit he didn't try to snap at either of the Manor's guests.
Jason's, however, was another matter.
"Hi Uncle Clark. Hi Aunt Diana," he said sheepishly to the gaping superheroes, using the old endearments he had for them when he was Robin.
Jason didn't really reconnect with either of the other two members of the Trinity (as Lois Lane-Kent had named them and Bruce oh so many years ago) until after Dick had become Batman. He had worked with them, of course; considering he had the clone of one as one of his teammates and an Amazon as another and as a lover, it was inevitable. But it wasn't until Dick permanently inherited the cowl that he really interacted with them again in a casual manner. It felt wrong, considering all he had done as the Red Hood was so very against what they had both stood for.
After Dick's death, however, it didn't seem to matter. With Tim's utter refusal to bear the mantle and Damian's relative youth and inexperience, Jason was the only option left to succeed him. Clark and Diana had both realized that, and rather than shun him for his past, had helped him instead. It was them who had convinced J'onn J'onzz to help fake the Red Hood's death so Jason could fully transition to the Batman identity. It was them that drilled him on Justice League protocols and other information the Batman was supposed to know, because Jason had certainly never expected to ever be a member of the most prestigious superhero team in the world.
They were there for him when Tim died, when Damian died, watching Gotham alongside Artemis, picking up his duties with the League while he drowned in alcohol and regret. They were there when he had decided it was time to integrate Carrie more into the superhero world, introducing her to other child superheroes. They were there when Helena entered the picture, and Jason started floundering at having another sibling that he had to basically raise as his daughter.
When Clark died in that final battle against Darkseid, Jason had been one of the pallbearers. He had been the one to help Co—(don't go there, don't go there)—Clark's successor to come into his own, had been the godfather to the eldest of… his children, Clark's grandchild.
When Hippolyta died and Diana had to give up the Wonder Woman mantle to take her rightful place as Queen, Jason had been one of the few men permitted to attend her coronation. When Artemis had decided it was time for Bana-Mighdall to reconnect with Themyscira, Jason had been a mediator for both sides.
Jason may have lost his best friend, and then half his family, but he hadn't been alone throughout any of it. Clark and Diana had been some of those who made sure of it, and he would forever be grateful to them. Even after everything he had done, all the blood and sin that graced his hands, they had still remained his family in the end.
(They were still his family now.)
And when he looked at them, really looked at them, he could almost pretend they weren't them, but other people. Their successors. Jason's Trinity. Clark looked so much like… like him, and God, he was alive too, wasn't he? Seeing him would be as hard as seeing Bruce and his brothers, and Jason didn't know how he was going to deal with that. Even without the memories, the former were still family. Right now, Jason and him, they were nothing.
And Diana, when he looked at her, he couldn't help but be reminded of Artemis, of Penelope, of—
No. Jason cut off that thought immediately. No.
If he thought about her, then everything would be shot to hell. He'd break right here, right now, and nothing would be able to stop him.
"Jason…?" Diana said in disbelief, reaching out to feel his face. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Clark running his eyes all over his body, no doubt using his supervision to confirm that he was, in fact, human.
"Yeah. It's me," Jason took a deep breath. "I'm the reason he called you here. We've already got a blood match on record but, well," he shrugged, "You know B."
"I do," Diana said, a little wistfully, before pulling him into a hug. "It's good to see you."
After she let go, Clark stepped forward, arms wide and open. Jason smiled up at him and quickly took up the offered embrace. Even with his recent growth spurt, the Kryptonian still towered over him.
"Welcome back," Clark whispered into his hair.
Jason hugged him a little tighter.
Dinner was a raucous affair. In celebration of the occasion, Alfred had opted to cook another one of Jason's favorites: macaroni and cheese and baked chicken, with a side of garlic bread. For conversation, Jason had prompted Tim about what he had been up to as Robin, happily commiserating with him on his various villains and their antics (notably, the Joker was not mentioned even once). Alfred, despite his usual ironclad rule of work being kept below the Manor, had allowed it, no doubt due to Jason.
The conversation then steered to something a little more casual. Damian, thanks to an idle question, had confessed that his experience with pop culture amounted to some in-flight cartoons. Dick and Tim immediately glared at Jason for this travesty, with Dick declaring that they were correcting this oversight in his education immediately. There was then some discussion over what, exactly, would constitute as acceptable study material, and a heated debate broke out over the quality of the Star Wars prequels (the originals, of course, were universally agreed upon as both respectable and necessary).
The meal finished, and the people dispersed in different directions. Jason stayed behind to help Alfred clean up, while Cass and Damian got ready for bed. Everyone else had disappeared with Bruce to the Cave, no doubt preparing for Jason's interrogation with the Lasso of Truth. Once he was done, Alfred handed him a tray with two teacups. One look at the butler was all Jason needed to know they were drugged.
He went to Damian's room first, knowing that he would be the hardest. The boy seemed unhappy to have such an early bedtime, but he knew that Jason wouldn't be swayed by any of his arguments, and had quickly realized that Bruce would be the same. He took the tea with barely any protest or suspicion, and within his first few sips began to droop. Jason took the cup from his hands and placed it back onto the tray, picking Damian up and tucking him inside the covers of his bed.
Cass was next. When he found her, she was sitting on her bed, waiting for him. She only had eyes for him.
She knew. Maybe not the complete situation, but enough to know that what would happen next would be very hard for him. She was worried for him.
Jason smiled encouragingly at her as he handed her the cup, placing a palm on top of one of her hands. "I'll be fine," he said.
She didn't believe him. But she also understood this was something he needed to do.
Cass took in a deep breath, taking in the scent, and sipped. Once she had taken enough, Jason took the cup from her hands, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Her eyes fluttered close, and she went into dreamland with the faint ghost of a smile on her face.
Jason set that cup down as well, helped put his sister into a more comfortable position. One that wouldn't leave her feeling sore when she woke up the next morning. After that, he took the tray and turned off the light.
This is it. The moment of truth.
The tension in the Cave was palpable, the moment Jason stepped off the elevator. Everyone was there — Bruce, Dick, Tim, Alfred, Clark and Diana. They were all standing near the computer, all watching him wearily, solemnly.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Jason walked towards them, careful to keep in range of the Computer's microphone. It would be paramount for what would come next. Everyone else surrounded him in a semi-circle, allowing him the option of escape but also reminding him that even if he tried, he wouldn't succeed.
Bruce, of course, was the one to speak.
"Jason," He paused, then continued, "You've been hiding something from us."
Jason nodded. "I have," he said, trying to sound casual. He failed.
"Whatever it is, you can say it here," Bruce nodded in both directions. "Everyone here is trustworthy."
"I know. I…" The words were stuck in his throat. Tears began gathering in his eyes.
No. Not now. Notnownotnownotnow…
"Jason?" It was Dick now, and he sounded concerned.
Jason inhaled deeply, strengthening his resolve. It was now or never.
"Computer," He stated loudly, clearly, using his Batman voice, ignoring everyone's startled looks. "Initialize Tau Protocol, Section 3, Code Sigma-Sigma-India-Alpha-Omega-Tau-Delta."
"Initialized," The Bat-Computer responded. Clark and Diana, Tim and Alfred, even Dick, were all staring at it, at him, in confusion. But not Bruce.
Bruce was staring at him in horror.
"Please identify yourself."
"Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, Batman III. Formerly Robin II."
There was a loud ping!
"Identity found and initialized. Authorization complete. Welcome, Batman."
And now everyone else was staring at him in shock. But Jason, Jason only had eyes for Bruce, who had broken out of his astonishment and was now staggering towards him. His father grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking.
He knows.
"How long, Jason?" Bruce was asking him, pleading with him. "HOW LONG?"
"B, what…?"
"Master Bruce…"
"Bruce, what the hell is going on?"
"How long?" Bruce whispered one last time.
Jason closed his eyes.
"Bruce, this is the first time I've seen you alive in almost thirty years."
He didn't need them open to see the horrified looks on their faces.
The moment you've all been waiting. Now everyone knows (except Cass and Damian, but they'll find out eventually).
Tau is the Greek symbol for time. I was having a hard time figuring out what to name the protocol, and Greek symbols seemed like the perfect go-to. The code, however, was completely random.
And now Jason is on the verge of his breakdown. You can see it by how unnaturally cheerful he was this chapter (dissonant serenity and all that), but now the facade is about to break, and absolutely nothing will be the same. Especially with Lasso of Truth at play.
Speaking of that, Clark and Diana are here! I was thinking of how I was going to get Bruce and co. to believe this fantastical story, and then it hit me: the Lasso! With the Lasso comes Diana, and I figured I'd throw in Clark as well. There's no way Bruce and co. will be in any condition to patrol once everything's said, and someone needs to watch Gotham while they're out.
As for their successors, well, you might be able to guess their identities. They'll make appearances, and may or may not play more important roles later on. Who knows~?
Now, a little more elaboration on Bruce's reaction. Bruce had pretty much figured out that Jason was either a dimensional traveler or a time traveler already. If it was the latter, then he expected normal time travel (you know, a person goes to the past and there's two of them existing at one point in time). You know, the kind of thing you could theoretically reverse, if necessary.
The kind of time travel Jason did has never really happened before, though Bruce did anticipate the possibility of its existence and created a protocol for it. That being said, that protocol (which will be elaborated on in the next chapter) was only supposed to be known by Batman. Bruce, and his successors, whoever that may be. Jason knowing it, and identifying himself as Batman, hits Bruce hard because that means that not only is this time travel not reversible, it also means that this Jason has to be an adult in mind, meaning at least five years from the future. Which is pretty bad — but can't compare to the reality of thirty years, hence the horror.
Next chapter might be delayed. It's a bit of an in-universe info dump, with Jason's analysis and input, so I'm trying to edit to be less boring. I've got a buffer of at least three chapters, and I'm trying not to burn through them too fast.
Oh, and I created a TV Tropes page for this! I'll put the link in the beginning note for the AO3 version. It's mostly for fun, so don't be afraid to edit it!