The silence was stifling.
Jason couldn't stand it.
"Diana," he addressed Wonder Woman, and absolutely no one missed the familiarity in his voice. "I'm ready."
He stepped away from Bruce, straightening his back as he made way to the Computer's chair. The semi-circle that once surrounded him parted like the red sea, allowing him free access. Jason turned it around so it would let him face everyone, took another deep breath, and sat in it. Jason hated how right it felt to be sitting in this chair like this, like he was Batman all over again.
Batman should have never been his to begin with.
They were all staring at him. In disbelief, in horror, they were all staring. Diana slowly moved towards him, Lasso in hand, and tied it around his left forearm, keeping the other end in her grasp. Once she was done, she stepped away.
Jason looked to Clark. He and Diana were the only ones who would be able to properly divorce themselves from this situation. At his nod, Clark cleared his throat.
"What is your name?"
"Jason Peter Todd-Wayne."
"What are the name of your parents?"
"Willis Todd and Sheila Haywood were my biological parents. Catherine Todd was my stepmother. Bruce Wayne was my adoptive father — my real father." Bruce made a pained noise at that.
Clark inhaled. "What is the Tau Protocol?"
"The Tau Protocol is a protocol that was created by Bruce Wayne, Batman I, in the event of time travel, specifically from the future to the past. It allows future Batmen full access to the Cave and all its facilities, and all the data in the Bat-Computer."
"And Section Three?"
"Allows access in the event a future Batman travels back not physically, but mentally via their soul or some other similar means and merges with their past self. In the event of a Section Three, if the user's authorization is already in the computer, then it automatically changes their clearance level to 'Highest', same as the current Batman."
And now their horror grew. They already had some vague inkling of what had transpired by the words he and Bruce exchanged, but having it confirmed… Suddenly, everyone was looking at him a new light. A dangerous light.
A sad light.
"Why did you travel back?" Clark asked quietly, gently.
His platitudes were unneeded. "What happened to me was completely involuntary. I did not choose to travel back in time."
"What?" Dick barreled into the conversation, eyes alight with desperation, "Then why are you here?"
"I was dying," Jason stated bluntly, and the Cave immediately fell silent. "I had been dying for some time. Lung cancer. I didn't quit my smoking habit until my early twenties, and then after that it seemed all the smoke inhalation from constant explosions and Gotham's generally polluted atmosphere made up for it. I was diagnosed when I was forty-eight, and rather than fight it I decided to give up the mantle my successor and spend my last years in peace with my remaining family."
"I died. I remember seeing Death, taking her hand like I did the first time around," there was a general choking sound at that reminder, "And she was supposed to take me to After. But she didn't. We were just about there when she stopped. And she told me…" Jason let out a shuddering breath, "…she told me that it wasn't my time yet. That this was a gift. She breathed life into me once more and suddenly I woke up in the Lazarus Pit again, over thirty-four years in the past."
The silence was back. Everyone had looks of sadness and pity to accompany the horror and disbelief. Jason hated that too.
"Ask your next question," he said, tiredly. "Please." I want to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Tim was next. "Why were you Batman?" Why wasn't it Dick?
Jason stumbled over that question, and the tears were there again, and he tried to fight them back, he tried. It was only when he felt Diana's familiar, comforting hand on his shoulder, along with the compelling magic of the Lasso that he finally found it in him to answer.
"It wasn't supposed to be me. It wasn't," And suddenly, before anyone could question him further, the words came rushing out, "After Bruce died, Dick succeeded him as Batman. And then five years later, in a Justice League battle against Brainiac, he died. It was supposed to be you next. You…you were always the best detective out of all of us, Tim, even better than Bruce. But you refused. Vehemently. That left it to myself, Damian, and Cass. But Cass had her own city in Bludhaven, which she had taken primary protection over after Dick succeeded Bruce, and was content with her own vigilante identity."
"Damian wanted it. It's all he ever wanted, he saw it as his birthright. The best way to honor Bruce. But he was only twenty at the time. He had only graduated from Robin two years ago, had just become Nightwing. He wasn't ready. So that left me, even though I didn't want it. I never wanted it."
"Then why did you keep it?" Tim again. It seemed Tim was able to separate himself too. Then again, this Tim barely knew him. Just thinking about that made him feel as if he lost Tim all over again.
"There was an agreement that I would hold the mantle temporarily. That, in a few years, after Damian got more experience and proved himself, he would succeed me. But then…"
"Then?"
"You died, Tim. One and half years after I became Batman, you died. And six months after that, Damian was dead too. And when he died…" Just thinking about it was painful, especially when there was a Damian right upstairs, so young and innocent and full of life, "…and when he died, that's when I realized that this was no longer a temporary gig. That I was Batman for good. Because Gotham needed a Batman, would always need a Batman, and I was the only one left to fit the bill. Well, me and Cass, but she didn't want it either and I loved her too much to force it on her. And because," Jason breathed again, "And because, in some way, it was all I had left of all you. Of my brothers. Of my father."
And maybe it was the Lasso, maybe it was him. Probably both. But suddenly Jason felt the need to confess everything. Every memory, every feeling he had bottled up ever since he found himself stuck in a time that he never expected to see again.
"Everyday in the mirror, I would look at myself and ask 'Why?' Why was I the one to live while you died, why was I the one with the Cowl when all of you deserved it so much more than me. Because when I came back the first time…I didn't come back right. And maybe that's no excuse for what I ended up doing, all the people I killed, all the sin that scarred my soul, but it was true. And all of you…I treated you all so terribly, even when you were trying to reach out to me. But none of you ever gave up on me, and when I finally got there, when our family was finally whole, half of you were gone and it was just me and Cass and Steph and Duke and Babs left and I had to spend the next twenty-two years of my life without any of you by my side."
He couldn't stop talking.
"And when I found out I was dying, I was okay with it. I lived my life, a full life, a happy life I was content with and I…I wanted to see you all again, I wanted that more than anything else. I wanted to clear the air, apologize more like I should have the first time around. I wanted to tell you all, again and again, how much I loved you, because God knows I didn't say it nearly enough. But instead I found myself here, like an ironic heaven or a very special kind of hell. Because all of you are alive and yet so young it hurts," Jason cried, because crying was all he could do, "It hurts."
"It hurts so much that I feel like I'm dying all over again."
And God, now they all looked they were ready to cry themselves. Jason didn't want that. He didn't want to hurt them, like he had back then. But it seemed that was all he could now. Hurt the people he loved.
"I shouldn't be here. I should be dead. I should be dead."
"Oh, Jason," and of course it was Diana, no one had more compassion in their heart than her. Jason felt the Lasso slip away from his arm as he was gathered into her embrace. He pressed into it eagerly, buried his head into her shoulder and just cried.
Cried because he had his family back, but not really. Cried because in order to have them back, he had to lose the family he gained.
Cried because ever since he saw his reflection in the Pit, that's all he had wanted to do.
Jason didn't know how long he cried. It must have been for quite a while because by the time he was done his face felt overheated and pasty.
And suddenly he couldn't stay here. Not in the Cave, not with all the looks. He allowed himself to savor Diana's warmth for a moment longer, and then slowly extracted himself from her arms. He couldn't bring himself to look at her face, to see the deep well of compassion and sympathy in her eyes.
He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, and spoke, "I'd like to go back upstairs now. I—I don't think I can answer any more questions tonight."
"That's fine," Clark answered for everyone, his empathy shining through. "Go ahead, get some rest."
"I'll walk you up," Diana said, and despite the gentleness of her tone, Jason knew there was no room for argument.
Jason let her take his hand, help him stand. He walked slowly, gingerly, legs weak and feet unsure.
And then he saw Tim.
Tim was trying not to look at him, and was failing, badly. His eyes were swirling with so many emotions, there was no way differentiate them. Jason had gone from a mere enigma to perhaps the greatest mystery of his short life, and Tim was torn between comforting him and deciphering him. It was oddly soothing.
"Can I hug you?" Because Jason had cuddled with Damian and Cass, had thrown himself at Dick, had fallen into Alfred's arms, had drowned himself in Bruce's love. He had done none of that with Tim. Not yet.
Tim's small mouth dropped for a moment, but then he gave a tiny nod. That was all the invitation Jason needed; he grabbed Tim's hand, tipping him forward into his arms, and all but crushed the much smaller boy. It felt wonderful, so wonderful, and Jason could finally breathe again.
"Never doubt your place in this family, Tim. Never. It doesn't matter how you came to be a part of it — you will always be one of us," Jason finished it off with an affectionate kiss to the top of his younger brother's head, a gesture of love if there ever was one.
He gave Tim another squeeze and then let him go, handing him one last tearful smile before following Diana to the elevator. As the doors closed and his visage disappeared, as the cart flew up to the study above, a taut, invisible string snapped.
"Oh my God," Dick whispered, haggard, "Oh my God."
Bruce said nothing. He punched a wall instead.
Diana is understanding. Jason doesn't deserve her.
No one does, to be honest.
She doesn't push him. She just waits. Lets him brush his teeth, looks away when he changes into his pajamas. Lets him lay in his bed, and just holds him like a mother would her child. Not even Talia showed him such open affection, given him such unconditional comfort.
"I take it you'll stay here until I fall asleep?" He asks, after twenty minutes of silent cuddling, of just laying side by side and staring at the ceiling.
Diana hums. "What makes you say that? I may very well stay here all night."
"I was Batman, Diana," Jason huffs, and it feels so good to finally say that out loud. "More over, I know my family. There is no way they are in any shape to patrol after a bomb like that. They'll get killed if they tried. But Gotham needs to be protected, so it'll fall to you and Clark instead."
"I'm sure Clark can handle it on his own."
"He probably could," Jason surrendered, "But you won't let him. This city is far too unpredictable for even the greatest superhero in the world to go at it without backup."
A quirk of a smile appeared on the Amazon's face, "You know us very well, don't you?"
"Yeah," Jason replied, wistful, "I guess I do."
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
"…Surprisingly enough, yes."
And so, he tells her everything. Or at least as much as he's willing to part with right now.
He tells her about how he never expected to become Batman. How that meant he had to join the Justice League, something else he never expected. About how he couldn't decline, not when so much of Dick's work was with the League, not when their support was necessary for Gotham's protection. And yet, how lost he was with it all, because there were protocols and contingencies and even a code of conduct that he didn't know about, and there certainly wasn't a handbook lying around to help.
The he follows it up with everything Clark and Diana did to help him. How they both helped picked up the slack while he settled himself into the new role he had. How they showed up and ate Alfred's food while they walked him through every single one of the reports that landed in his lap, making him feel like a teenager stuck in a tutoring session.
"That sounds demeaning," Diana observed.
Jason laughed again. "You sound like Damian. Eh, it was alright. I didn't mind. It was important. After that we spent the rest of the month just drilling me about the League. A month after that, I was in the Watchtower, leading and assigning missions, giving my opinion on everything, and the world could pretend I was Bruce or Dick and not some kind of impostor wearing the suit."
There was a swat on his shoulder. It was light and very familiar.
"You were not an impostor. You were their successor," Diana stressed the last word, emphasizing it.
"I know. But it took me years to accept that. I…when I came back the first time, I wasn't in a good place. Coming back from the dead — it leaves scars. It's even worse for those who take a dip in a Lazarus Pit to help them heal."
Diana was humming again. "You said that you killed people."
"I did," Jason confirmed, and that was all the prompt he needed to continue.
He tells her about waking up from the Pit the first time. About the confusion, the desperation, the voices and shouts that are barely heard whispers now. About the green haze the fogged his dreams and memories of that time. Of learning about Bruce and the Joker and the uncontrollable rage he felt, finding out that Bruce had left him unavenged. Of trying to kill Bruce, and failing to go through with it, not because of any lingering affection, but because he wanted to Bruce to know it was him. To know why it was him. And of how Talia granted him his wish.
The training he went through to become the Red Hood. How he murdered his teachers after learning everything he wanted from them, because most of them were scum anyway. Learning about Tim, and the heartbreak he felt at replaced, as if it were a sign of how much Bruce had never loved him. That Bruce had only just wanted a replacement for Dick.
He even talks about Tim himself, about his insecurities, of how those insecurities were exposed by the immense amount of loss Tim went through in a short period of time, culminating in seemingly losing Bruce himself. Of course, Bruce would come back soon enough and they wouldn't really lose him until years later, but they hadn't known that at the time. Which then served as a bridge to Tim's real breaking point.
"And then Dick," here, Jason punctuated the name with a visible grimace, "Dick did something stupid."
Diana took his hand, "What did he do?"
"He took Robin from Tim. Gave it to Damian. And if you think the Damian sleeping in this house right now is bad, that one was worse. Way worse."
"How so?"
And then came Damian. Damian and his fucked up childhood and how, even now, Jason is still working undo the damage with the Damian upstairs. Of how that other Damian, the Damian he knew and came to love and lose, who had not been sent away for his own safety but instead dumped on his father by his mother so she could convince Bruce to become a family with them, had attempted to murder Tim on a regular basis. Of how that Damian had hated all of them, resented them, because he was taught view them as obstacles to his birthright.
Which led to Dick. Dick who hadn't wanted to be Batman either, but was the only one who could have the time, because Tim was too young, Jason was too full of rage and both of them were too broken to carry that weight. Dick, who had been forced to confront that when both of them had tried anyway, and finally found the will to take up the birthright that had been his ever since he started running around in booty shorts back when he was nine years old. Dick, who was the eldest, the head of the family now that Bruce was supposedly gone, the closest thing to a parent Damian had left.
Damian, who had never been and never will be an easy child. Who needed help, help that Dick only knew how to impart by having him his as his Robin. And that mean short-handing Tim, giving the mantle his other younger brother had loved so much, a mantle that might as well be all he had left of his adoptive father, to the brother he hated most.
"It wasn't his best moment," Jason admitted. A person could even argue that one moment was worse than all of Dick's cold treatment of him back when Jason was Robin. Jason would even agree with them. For all that Dick made him feel inferior, intentionally or not, Dick had never once tried to take something so important away from Jason at such a low point in his life, like he had with Tim.
But that didn't stop Jason from defending him anyway.
"The thing is, Tim had long since transcended Robin. He was more than just Batman's assistant, had been for a while now. He was ready to be on his own. Outgrowing the R is a phase all the Robins go through; Dick's saw him create the Teen Titans, and I was in the beginning stages of mine when I died. Tim was in the midst of that phase for a while, and he needed one last push to get out of it and become his own man. Dick tried to express this by giving Tim Nightwing, but Tim told him he didn't like handouts and left. He then created his own identity, Red Robin, and went by that alias until the day he died."
Red Robin. Jason loved Red Robin, because Tim as Red Robin was the one who really started re-integrating him back into the family. And while he was saddened that it was because of Tim's shit relationship with the rest of the family at the time that had led to him seeking out Jason for help for cases, in the end, it did end up working out for the better. Jason eventually stopped with the murder attempts, Tim reconciled with Dick and started getting along with Damian, and that led to Jason starting to work with the others more and more. They weren't quite back to being whole, but it was something.
And then Bruce came back. And while that was a happy occasion at first, it was also the beginning of when everything went to hell.
"You tried to kill him. But I know Bruce has forgiven others for worse."
"It wasn't that, Di. It was…" Jason struggled for a moment to find the right words, "…towards the end of my training, Talia seemed to regret giving into my demands. At the beginning of it, she was angry at Bruce. Wanted to get back at him. But deep down she still loved him, and when she saw what I was becoming, she realized I might very well kill him. So the last place she sent me to for training was the All-Caste."
"You were trained by the All-Caste?"
"You've heard of them? Don't answer that, of course you have. Anyway, it was probably the most enjoyable portion of my training. It was also the hardest, but that's neither here nor there. They…helped me. I'd never been more at peace than I was with them. But at the end of it, I was still angry at Bruce. So angry. So I left. And Talia, she finally gave me what I needed for my revenge."
And then he started on the worst part of his past, the darkest period of his life. The Red Hood's return to Gotham, and everything that entailed: the death, the blood, the heartache. Joker. Black Mask. Fighting Bruce, dueling with him on Gotham's rooftops. Putting up an admirable fight but still losing in the end, because Jason hadn't been quite on that level, not yet at least. Leading Bruce to that building. That final, desperate gambit.
"He didn't choose, obviously. He refused to be party to it. Instead, he threw a batarang at my hand, knocking away my gun and releasing the Joker from my hold. And I…that was it, for me. Ever since I woke up in the Pit, the first time around, I felt like I was living on borrowed time. I wasn't happy being alive again, Diana. When you die for the first time, you're at peace, and being ripped away from that is as good as killing you all over again. And everything that followed…I just wanted him to accept me. Instead, what B did to me — it wasn't a rejection, but it seemed like it at the time, and despite everything, he was the most important person in my life."
"I decided that if he wasn't going to choose, then there wasn't a point anymore. Earlier that night, I'd rigged the building to blow. I triggered the explosive, and then slumped down and waited to die. B tried to disarm it — I put a countdown on it, don't really remember why — and Joker stopped him. Said the three of us dying together was the biggest joke ever, everything he could ever want. B got him off, but it was too late to stop it. He could save himself, or one of us."
"He chose you," Diana determined instantly. She knew Bruce. She knew that no matter how much he tried to value all life, there were some lives worth saving more than others, and his son was certainly one such life, especially when the other option was the Joker.
"Threw me out of the room just before everything blew," Jason confirmed. "It took me years to really understand everything that happened that night, but in the end, I got it. He couldn't compromise his sense of justice for anyone, not even for his children. Because if he did, it would get easier, and easier, until he became the monster he sought to put down. The monster I ended up becoming. But that didn't mean he didn't love us. It was because he loved us that he had to choose justice first. He didn't want to put us in a position where we had to take him down. The position I put him in through my antics."
"So, after that plan failed, I laid low for a bit. Did try to kill Dick and Tim a few times, even Damian once or twice. Though, to be honest, none of those attempts were really serious. The Pit Madness was getting easier to fight day by day; maybe because, in my subconscious, I recognized that Bruce did love me after he risked his life to save me. By the time Tim started hanging around me I was able to recognize its influence, and started developing a system to squash it down. Though it wasn't until I was a part of the family that I was able to make it work."
"As I got to know my siblings, including meeting Cass and reconnecting with Dick, things between Bruce and I remained tense. Me due to being an angst-ridden mess stuck in a constant phase of delayed teenage rebellion, him because he's an emotionally constipated asshole who's constantly struggling to balance between the Mission and his family, the only two things in the world he really cares about. We didn't properly reconcile until I was twenty," Jason blew a fringe of hair out his eyes, "A year later, he was dead. This time for real, and this time for good."
"And I…I was so angry at myself. For letting my pride prevent me from spending all the time I could with him. Because for people like us, our lives are always hanging by a thread with a razor thin edge, and any moment could be our last. I should have known that. I should have known that better than anyone else. But I blinded myself from it, and by the time I got my head out of my ass it was too late to make up for any of it. My father was gone, and he was never coming back. I felt the same way after Dick died, and then Tim, and after Damian I was just about ready to go. If it hadn't been for Cass and the others, I'd probably be here a lot sooner."
That admission was haunting. But it was also liberating, in a way. Jason felt lighter finally saying all of this out in the open, without several pairs of eyes on him, without the Lasso forcing the words from his mouth. Just him and Diana, laying side-by-side. Talking.
The silence returned once more. This time, it wasn't oppressive or stifling. It was…freeing.
"Jason," Diana murmured, "I know nothing will ever make up for what you've lost. All the pain you went through during your second life. But you have another chance now, and while they aren't the family you remember, they are still your family. And if the gods are willing, you have all the time in the world to spend with them."
"I do, don't I?" Jason said, smiling. "Thanks Di. For laying here with me. For listening to me."
"It was hardly a chore, Jason," Diana nuzzled his cheek, like a mother would with her child. "I was more than happy to."
"I believe you. Enough to ignore the bug you planted behind my headboard before we started talking."
Diana froze.
"It's fine, Diana. It's transmitting to the Cave, right?" At her slow nod, Jason cracked a grin. "Great. Means I don't have to repeat myself to everyone else." He yawned. "Now, I'm going to sleep. Please turn off the light before you leave."
With that, the former Batman closed his eyes and allowed the darkness to welcome him. He was out within seconds.
With Jason now dead to the world, Diana was able to extract herself from the bed with little trouble. She removed the listening device from the headboard, then arranged his body into a more comfortable position, leaving him with a kiss to the head not unlike the one he gave Tim earlier that night, and a fond look, before turning off the light and leaving, closing the door behind her.
The walk to the Cave made her more anxious with every step. She had no doubt that every word she and Jason had exchanged in his room had been heard by the Cave's occupants. Diana could only hope Bruce hadn't broken out the alcohol yet. Or let Dick or Alfred have any of it. Poor Tim was still impressionable after all, and Hera knows how he was taking everything.
Finally, as the elevator touched down, she was given an answer.
Everyone had corralled themselves around the Bat-Computer, where the bug's broadcast had been emanating from. Bruce was sitting in the main chair, head in his hands, with Clark beside him and rubbing comforting circles into his back. To his right was Alfred, who had pulled up a chair of his own and had given up all propriety in favor of slumping over the main desk in solemn thinking position. On the other side of Alfred were Dick and Tim, who hadn't even bothered with chairs. They were instead sitting on the floor, leaning against each other's shoulders with their eyes glazed over. All in all, it was one of the most depressing sights Diana had ever seen.
And to think the evening had started out so happily, Diana thought to herself bitterly. A child she and Clark had cared for, Bruce's child, had come back from the dead, and with him two more children for Bruce to care for, a son and a daughter. A miracle that seemed too good to be true.
As it turned out, it was exactly that. For the Jason Todd that had returned to them was theirs, except now fifty years old, stuck in the body of his younger self, having inadvertently traveled back in time after dying of lung cancer over thirty years in the future. A future that saw him endure the deaths of most of his adoptive family before he was even thirty and forced to bear a mantle that he never once believed he had any right to, the same mantle that had effectively destroyed his family. It was a tragic fate that Diana would never wish on anyone, not even her worst enemies.
She didn't blame Jason for that, of course. He had never asked for any of this. No, if anyone was to blame, it was the Joker, for taking away such a promising soul so soon from the world. Or the al Ghuls, for taking advantage of that same boy for their own ends. Even Gotham itself had some of it, for destroying so much and leaving so much devastation in its wake, and yet still having so much history, spirit, greatness and overall good people in it, enough for people to still love it.
Most of all, however, she blamed the cosmic forces that so loved torturing a family that only ever wanted to do good.
Truly, this world is as cruel as it is kind.
Even after Diana's arrival, the silence remained. There was nothing anyone could say to what they'd just heard. Nothing. This sort of situation was completely unprecedented, and all of them were involved in some way. All of them were compromised, even Clark and Diana.
"It's almost time for patrol," Bruce said suddenly, head shooting up. He stood.
Clark pushed him back down immediately.
"No."
"Clark—"
"You heard Jason. You go out tonight after something like that, you'll die. Either you, or Dick, or Tim, or whatever innocent people you're trying to protect," Clark said firmly, tightening his grip ever so slightingly, "I'll handle things in Gotham tonight. Tomorrow night as well, if necessary. And in the very unlikely event I need backup, Diana will go out and help me. You, meanwhile, are going to talk this over with your family. Process everything your son has just said, and figure out where you're going to go from here."
Bruce looked betrayed. "But where do I even begin? He's not my son."
Before anyone could say something to that, Diana was already in front of him, landing a sharp slap to his cheek. Not hard enough to injure for anything more than a bruise, but it got her point across well enough.
"Bruce Wayne," The Amazon Princess hissed, anger and disappointment in her eyes. "How dare you say such a thing? After everything we've just heard?"
"But—"
"But nothing! He is still your son! He might be older, and infinitely more scarred, but deep down he's still the boy you loved and raised! The boy you took from the streets and made your own!"
"HE WOULD'VE BEEN BETTER OFF ON THE STREETS THAN WITH ME!"
An appalling quiet followed that statement. Now everyone was looking at Bruce.
"Thirty years, Diana. Thirty years. I suspected that he was a time traveler some sort, but only a couple of years, not—" Bruce shook his head, "And everything he's said…God, I don't know how he can even look at me!"
"It was bad enough I got him killed. But everything that came after, being turned him into a weapon against his family, finally getting him home only for me to die and leave behind a legacy that would kill all three of his brothers. A legacy he forced himself to bear, because to him, it was all he had left of us. And when he died once more, the universe conspired to have him live his life all over again. And instead of just giving up on this life like he should have done, and leaving me behind to start a new one, he came back here and he's going to destroy himself all over again just to save us."
"He's not my son, Diana. He's not, because he doesn't deserve to be my son. He deserves better," He turned to Dick and Tim, who were watching him with wide eyes. "You all do."
"Bruce…" Dick hiccuped. It seemed he was just about at his limit.
"It's true, Dick. I took you in because you reminded me of myself, and that was the last person I wanted you to be. And yet I let you run around in that uniform, beating down criminals every night, and now you're in deep like I am. You'll succeed me when this life finally kills me. And you'll die in the process," Bruce closed his eyes, the very thought of his eldest son's death bringing him pain.
"And Tim." Bruce turned his attentions to his third Robin, who he had come to love as another son but couldn't admit as much until Jason reappeared on their doorstep with two extra and made it all too obvious. Tim, on his part, merely looked up.
"You never had to be a part of this. You could've lived a normal life. But you stayed and you suffered and then you died too. And Damian, he thought the best way to make me proud was to succeed me and look where it got him. He was in the ground before he was even twenty-five. And Jason and Cass…they were left behind and had to continue on with their lives, fulfilling a mission that got most of their family killed," the broken man looked up to the sky, "I don't blame Jason for hating me after that. I hate myself just knowing it."
Everyone once again fell silent at those words. Nothing Bruce said, exactly, was wrong.
Except for one thing.
"Bruce," Clark interjected, rather forcefully, "Don't be a fool."
The billionaire snapped his head towards his closest friend, mouth hanging open. "Wha—?"
"Did he ever once say that he hated you? That he wished you'd never taken him in?" Bruce obviously had no answer to that, so Clark pressed on, "The only person he hates is himself, for not doing more the first time around. For not being better, for not spending more time with his family. Even though none of it was his fault in the end, he still blamed himself, instead of you or anyone else."
"He loves you, Bruce," Clark's voice softened, and there was a slight hitch to it, "He loves you so much. He said that you were the most important person in his life. And I know you don't want to hurt him again, but pushing him away now will only hurt him more. He needs you Bruce."
"All Jason wants is for his family to be whole again," Diana added on after regaining her bearings, voice weary. "Whole and happy. That's why he waited three months to come home, why he risked the wrath of Ra's al Ghul and forced himself to trust Talia. Because he wanted to bring Cassandra and Damian to you sooner, because he wanted all of you, his family, to be together again."
"But we're not his family," everyone looked to Tim, who had been mostly silent so far. Despite the seemingly cold nature of his statement, the sorrow in his face made it all too clear how he really felt, "The family he loved, and lost, they were different people. People that went through more experiences than us, who had spent more time with him than us. They're the ones he mourned, the ones he wants back. Not us."
"Tell that to him," Dick snorted mirthlessly. Everything was beginning to crash down on him, and even the most optimistic member of the family couldn't escape the inherent somberness and cynicism of the discussion. "You said it yourself, Tim. The way he looks at us, at all of us, it's genuine. You can't fake emotion like that. And the fact that he went so far for Damian and Cass, that he made it his mission to make it as obvious as possible to you, Tim, that he doesn't resent you, that he considers you family too — we might not be them, but it doesn't seem to matter to him."
The world stopped as everyone pondered over that. That certainly was true as well.
"Just because we are not those people, does not mean they were not us," Alfred added in his two cents, lifting his head to look at everyone, "As we have previously established, Master Jason came from the future. The future versions of ourselves that he knew were us at one point, just like how Master Jason was the boy we lost over a year ago, and still is, just with decades of more memories and experiences in his head. People are constantly changing as they gradually accumulate experiences; that is simply the nature of life. To him, we are the family he lost, just without all those memories and experiences."
"And even with all that, if you don't quite believe what I say, it as Master Dick said — it does not matter to him. He loves us, and we loved him before we knew all of this. The question is now, whether or not we still love him after all of this."
That statement had profound effect on everyone. Outbursts came from every direction as all the other people in the room began to protest the butler's words. Even Tim, who had literally just met Jason today, was aghast to hear such a thing come from Alfred's mouth.
"Alfred, how could you—"
"Why would you even think—"
"Of course we still love him!"
"Then why are we even debating this at all!" The old man angrily cut them all off. Everyone was struck dumb, seeing him so uncharacteristically angry and without his usual impeccable and near-unassailable composure.
"He loves us, and we love him. In the face of that, nothing else matters. We shouldn't be discussing whether or not we deserve that love, but rather how we're going to help him. Whether we like it or not, the damage has already been done. Nothing is going to erase the pain Master Jason went through in that dark future of his, not even if we erased the memories from his mind. And even if we did do that, the timeline has already been irrevocably changed due to his, Miss Cassandra, and Master Damian's early presences at the Manor. We need his knowledge of the future to counteract any of the negative effects that may come from this." Because again, Alfred was a Bat, and as wonderful as it was to have three more children join the family, only a fool would believe that no consequences would not come from such a grand change. Especially not with children with pasts and connections like Cassandra and Damian.
"I do not like this anymore than any of you do. This is, without a doubt, the most difficult situation all of us have ever faced. Something that no one here could have truly foreseen, even with all of Master Bruce's contingencies. But," and here, Alfred's voice grew softer, with the slightest hitch, "it is as Master Dick and Miss Prince said. He brought Miss Cassandra and Master Damian to us early. Not to further aid in this family's crusade against crime, but because they were both in terrible situations and he couldn't bear to leave them where they were for one more second. Because he knows they both would be happier here, with us. In the end, he just wants to help us. All of us. So, in light of that, the question we must ask is what we can do to return the favor, and help him cope with the knowledge that is now in his head."
Alfred's words resonated through all of them. Immediately, expressions of shame and sadness and determination and everything in the between appeared.
Diana, for her part, began to sniffle, as bittersweet tears slid down her cheeks. The sound of it turned everyone's attention to her.
"You are blessed," she explained, using a wrist to rub at her eyes, smiling sadly all the while, "With a son that any parent would be proud of, a brother any sibling would adore. You're right, Bruce," the Amazon turned to her friend, who froze at being addressed so directly, "he does deserve better."
She reached over, and cupped Bruce's cheek, sliding her thumb against the jut of his bone tenderly. "So be better."
Bruce stared at her, eyes wide.
"They're right," And now Dick was the center of attention. He stood, shaky but determined, a powerful glint in his eye, "Jason needs us Bruce. Damian, Cass," he threw a look to his right, "Tim — they all need us. Pushing them away and wallowing in self-pity and regret isn't going to help anyone. Least of all them."
But Bruce shook his head, backing away from Diana, the back of his knees hitting the main chair of the Bat-Computer, "I don't know how, Dick. I—" He looked away.
"Then talk to him."
Tim felt every bit as weak-kneed as Dick, but also every bit as determined. "It's him that wants this the most, right?" He said to the assemblage of stunned heroes, "If anyone should know what the first step should be, it's him."
"But—I—"
"Bruce." It was Clark's turn now. "Don't. You might think it's better that way, to compartmentalize, to ignore this, but it's not. It never has been."
Bruce stared at him helplessly.
"Master Bruce," Alfred finally had his say, steely and unyielding, "I did not raise a coward."
He felt cornered. Everyone was looking at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. On reflex, he looked around the Cave, until he spotted it: Jason's memorial. The symbol of his greatest failure.
It's him that wants this the most, right?
Pushing them away and wallowing in self-pity and regret isn't going to help anyone.
You might think it's better that way, to compartmentalize, to ignore this, but it's not. It never has been.
I did not raise a coward
So be better.
He loves you, Bruce.
And I love him. All of them. So goddamn much. But he had always been so, so terrible at showing it.
But they were right. They were all right.
"Alright," Bruce said, submission in his voice, "Alright."
I said Jason would be less angsty in this fic.
I lied.
Sorta.
This is unquestionably the saddest chapter of the story, even if it's mostly exposition. After that, however, there's no place to go but up. Jason knows better than to let his problems bleed into his relationships with other people (having prior experience), so now that everything is out in the open, he's going to be a lot more relaxed with everyone. There's still Dami and Cass, of course, but they'll learn the truth at their own pace.
The big sign of hope in this chapter is everyone's resolve to help Jason. Of course, this is nuanced the knowledge of the future he now has, and there's obviously going to be questions. Questions that Jason may or may not answer, depending on how he feels about the information. It's not going to be smooth sailing, but it will get easier as time goes on.
Another sign that Jason Todd is Bruce Wayne's son? They both have a guilt complex. As you can see here, Jason has a massive amount of survivor's guilt due to outliving his brothers, and has always viewed the Batman legacy as rightfully theirs, even though he's the one who ended up with it in the end. There's also some more guilt about Bruce that will be revealed later. And of course, Bruce blames himself for what happened to Jason even though he technically hasn't done any of those things yet and has a chance to make up for it regardless.
It's going to make for an interesting dynamic in the future. Especially when they touch on the killing part — Bruce hasn't forgotten that, but in the wake of everything else it feels like a minor thing in comparison. They will talk about it eventually, and you'll find that while Jason also follow the no-killing rule, he isn't as stringent about it and he does have exceptions. It will cause friction, but where would the story be without that?
Alfred originally didn't have such a large role in this chapter until I realized that if anyone was going to be the voice of reason, it was him. I've rewritten that last section at least twice and I'm not sure I'm satisfied with it, but it is what it is. I hope at least I got everyone in character.
On some more technical notes, whenever someone says 'Batman I' they're pronouncing it as 'Batman 1' not 'Batman the First'. I guess most of you already know that, but the naming convention will be important later on when we get into the world building. That's why writing this has been so difficult — the plot bunnies ran wild and now there's an entire world we're going to be delving into once we begin branching out of the Bats (which won't be for a while, mind you).
The next few chapter will have a lot exposition too, though not to the extent of this one. Just warning you. Once we get to Chapter 10 though, is when we'll start doing more fun stuff.
Next chapter: The Aftermath!