"Steph," Cass said in that quiet voice of hers the moment her friend walked through the door. Stephanie waved at her, Jason lugging in her bag with the children trailing behind him.
"Miss Stephanie Brown, I presume?" Alfred interjected before more could be said, taking the bag from Jason's hands. "I am Alfred Pennyworth, the caretaker of this fine establishment. If you have any issues during your stay here, do not be afraid to ask me for help."
"I will do that, Mr. Pennyworth."
"Please, call me Alfred. Where would you like your bags?"
"Store it in Cass' room," Jason answered, "Stephanie told me she'd like to stay there instead of a guest room."
"Very well then. While I prepare their room, I assume you will start dinner, Master Jason?"
"If you don't mind, I indeed will," he turned to his sister, "Cass, why don't you and Damian take Steph and Jon on a tour of the house? Dinner will be ready at the same time it always is."
Naturally, this did not please Damian. "I will not—"
He was cut off by a trifecta of looks from Cass, Jason, and Alfred. Immediately, he clammed up, grumbling as he took Jon's hand and started dragging him away.
"Come along, Brown, Cassandra. We shall start with the guest wing."
Jason watched as the girls followed his youngest brother and his friend, giggling in amusement, and shook his head.
"I hope I'm not making a mistake, Alfred."
"So do I, Master Jason," the butler responded dryly, "So do I."
As a child, everyone in Stephanie's neighborhood gossiped about Wayne Manor. One of the largest estates on the eastern seaboard, the quintessential American castle. The grand symbol of the family that helped build Gotham City from the ground up. It seemed like everyday the society pages of the Gotham Gazette had at least one picture of Wayne Manor.
The caveat, of course, is that the pictures were only ever of the outside. Brucie Wayne, for all his antics, was actually a rather private person. He did not allow cameras within the premises of his home — ever. Not even during the occasional galas he threw at his estate for charity. Only the elite of the elite of Gotham and its visitors had ever seen the interior of his home, and the man never saw any reason to change that.
This meant that no one in Stephanie's neighborhood had any illusions of ever seeing the inside of Wayne Manor. They were the Narrows, a hop, skip, and a jump away from Crime Alley. Even Stephanie, who lived in one of the better parts of the area thanks to her hardworking mother, never deluded herself into believing that she would ever step foot in that glorious house, the sigil of a life that would never be hers. It was a pipe dream. The kind of dream where you could pretend whatever you want, because you knew it would never happen.
Except it did happen. And for Stephanie, it was beyond anything she could ever imagine.
Beyond, because it was so mundane.
Sure, the wood paneling came from never-heard-before-now rainforest in the middle of Asia from the nineteenth century. And yeah, there was a lot of marble specially cut from secret mines in South America. And okay, that chandelier was really big and shined a lot. Plus the bowling alley, the in-house movie theater, the industrial-sized kitchen in the basement…
Okay, maybe mundane wasn't the right word. But Stephanie didn't know any other way to put it. The place was just so darn homey. Midst all the portraits of the Wayne family's numerous famous ancestors, there were Damian's sketches and portraits (admittedly much better than any seven year old's drawings had any right to be), with subjects ranging from members of his family to a milk carton. One of the living rooms, twice as large as the many apartments Stephanie grew up in, was swamped with video games, something that Tim was apparently to blame for. The main library's center table was stacked with study guides, novels, and notebooks, because Jason had no plans of going back to high school when he was perfectly able of getting a GED.
Yeah, parts of the Manor easily resembled the stock still photos of other buildings of its ilk, but at its core it really wasn't any different from any other lived-in home that Stephanie had visited. A really over-sized home, with luxuries and amenities that probably cost more than her mother and her father had made over the course of their entire lives, but still a home. Her opinion was only reaffirmed when Damian told them, in a deathly serious voice, that they were not to swing and/or play with the chandelier at all, and said that his older brother Richard (Richie Wayne, Stephanie assumed) was to blame following an incident where he started napping in it when he was ten.
It was…comforting, she supposed. It made her feel like less of an outsider. Another reminder that while her friends may have had more money, more privilege, than she did, they weren't really any different from her in the end. They were still people with their own interests and their own lives. Not matinee dolls that the Gazette celebrated and condemned as they threw out speculation about their lives. She knew that of course, ever since she really spoke with Tim for the first time, but it was nice to have a refresher.
Stephanie repeated that last statement in her mind, when she met Bruce Wayne's eyes for the first time.
Bruce Wayne. The Prince of Gotham. The last scion of the Wayne family, after the unexpected and tragic murders of his parents when he was eight.
Or at least he was, until he went on an adoption craze and then revealed he had a bastard kid.
While his earlier years were still shrouded in mystery, especially that five-year trip around the world he made around the world after graduating college at age twenty, his life when he came back to Gotham City certainly wasn't. His brilliance as a businessman and philanthropist was overshadowed by his antics as an eccentric playboy. Not quite to the level of a fictional Tony Stark, but certainly memorable. Stephanie once remembered reading about an incident at one of his galas where he showed up in his pajamas and a made a drunken speech to the press about the importance of anglets (whatever those were) before being dragged away by his eldest son. To say nothing of the host of injuries that came from his frequent dives into extreme sports, of which his sons seemed to share a penchant for, judging by the host of bruises both his sons showed up with at school.
(Looking back, Stephanie would beat herself up for not noticing the signs earlier. The Jason she knew preferred books to sports, as good as he was at the latter.)
The only time she knew of where the tabloids weren't ragging on him for his antics were the six months following the death of his second son. Even though she knew Jason to be alive now, Stephanie couldn't help but wince at the thought. The effects it had on his adoptive father were all too obvious to the city — the stock of Wayne Enterprises dropped several points and settled that way for months, there were no galas to be held during that same timeframe, rumors of a fight between the father and the eldest (and at the time, remaining) son, the latter of whom missed the funeral allegedly because the former never told him Jason had died.
Things only turned back to some kind of general normal six months later. Around that time is when Tim Drake started hanging around his home, and then Bruce formally took the kid in after the incident with the Obeah Man. Then, six or so months after that and over one year after his supposed death, Jason Todd miraculously came back from the dead around the same time that Bruce adopted another child (Cassandra, previous last name redacted) and revealed he had an illegitimate biological child (Damian Wayne). And suddenly the Waynes were once again the talk of the town, the 'it' family that everyone was obsessed with.
Stephanie knew all of this and yet, looking at Bruce Wayne now, she felt like she knew nothing about him at all. The jovial man that the papers happily slandered like no tomorrow was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was an air of solemness around him. She'd almost think him cold, if it weren't for the way his eyes softened when he saw his youngest son and his daughter. An expression that seemed to linger when he saw Jon.
Not around her. She could tell — he didn't know what to think about her.
Well, here's to making a good first impression. "Hi, Mr. Wayne. I'm Stephanie Brown. I'm a friend of your kids." She held out her hand.
The man — so much bigger in person — eyed it for a moment, before taking it with a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Brown. My children have said a lot about you."
Stephanie giggled nervously. "Nice things, I hope."
"Nice things, indeed," he turned to look beside her, at Jon, "Jon."
"Hi, Uncle Bruce!" The boy said cheerfully, Bruce's own son scowling beside him.
"Father."
"Damian."
Cass simply held up a hand, her standard, silent greeting. Bruce reciprocated the gesture, then looked at his wristwatch. "Dinner should be about ready. Come on; I'll take you to the dining room."
The dining room was the one room Stephanie had yet to see. Apparently that was because no one was allowed in there except during meals. The moment she stepped inside, Stephanie could see why — the place was beautiful. Another glistening, crystal chandelier hung over the long, cherrywood table that served as the centerpiece of the room. The walls were painted a tasteful dark blue and decorated with white arches made of pillars and ribbons. One side of the room was just a wall of tall windows, ornate but clear, displaying a view of the carefully curated yard of topiaries outside.
The table was already set when they got there. The settings were spread out throughout the entire table, the utensils sterling silver, the plates porcelain to the point that Stephanie desperately hoped they weren't china. The food wasn't there yet, however, nor were Jason or Alfred. She supposed they'd come up together from the kitchen. From what Damian said, there was a third kitchen she had yet to see, attached to the dining room and banned to everyone except Alfred and Jason.
There were five settings. One at the head of the table, three to the right of that and two to the left. Stephanie was directed to the last seat on the right, with Cass sitting next to her. Bruce sat at the head of the table with Damian to the left and Jon next to him. That meant the first seat on the right was Jason's. Stephanie wondered where Tim sat when he visited. Or the eldest brother Dick (Richie is apparently what he only went by during galas), the one she had yet to meet.
She sat down, taking the cloth napkin and smoothing it out on her lap, mimicking everyone else. They didn't have to wait long for the food — Jason entered first, taking his seat as Alfred exited with a cart of plated food. Stephanie felt her mouth water a bit as the smell assaulted her nostrils. The Waynes had brought her to some really nice places since she had first joined them for Bat-Pizza all those weeks ago, but none of them had good, homemade food like this.
A large, steaming stew was poured into every bowl by Alfred, followed by crystal clear water from a pitcher. A basket of bread was passed between them as Alfred started placing more plates on the table: mashed potatoes, steaming vegetables, cuts of chicken, etc. It all looked delectable, and Stephanie resisted the urge to immediately dig in. She waited, instead, for the first bite to be taken.
When Jon dipped his spoon into his stew, Stephanie felt her heart lighten.
He really is a nice kid.
"So, Miss Brown," Stephanie perked up from her stew, looking up to see Bruce gazing at her intently, "How did you meet my children again?"
"Well, through Tim, Mr. Wayne. We were in biology class, he needed a partner, I needed a partner, and we just…hit it off, I guess."
"That makes it sounds like you're courting," Damian commented, frowning. "I hope not. For all your faults, Brown, you can do much better than Drake."
Jason groaned. "Damian, what have we told you about insulting Tim?"
"You also tell me to be honest. Do you see where these objectives clash?"
"You know as well as I do that Tim is far more intelligent than you give him credit for."
"Something that I have yet to see."
"His much higher ticket balance at Bat-Pizza suggests otherwise."
"Tt. The discrepancy is only possible because Drake is of greater stature. I assure you, that if we were the same age and of similar height and weight, my balance would exceed his significantly."
The brothers continued to lightly bicker as everyone else watched them in fascination. Stephanie took another large sip of her stew, meeting Bruce's searching stare. Despite the distracting nature of his sons' argument, his eyes had not once strayed from her. She had to admit, she found it a bit unnerving.
"Boys," the oldest person at the table finally said, cutting the argument short. The statement was barely above room volume, and yet carried a deep sense of authority. Both boys obeyed him immediately, though Stephanie noticed that Jason giving Bruce a look that the older man refused to dignify.
She was missing something. She could feel it. But before she could question it, Bruce asked Cass a question, and Stephanie found her mind caught up in the midst of another conversation.
It was probably nothing, anyway.
"So no reality shows?" Stephanie asked, sounding more downtrodden than she probably should be.
"No, Steph," Jason said, voice firm, "not when the kids are awake. Damian could probably handle it, but he's still an impressionable seven year old. And Lois will kill all of us if Jon comes home with that garbage in his head."
"But it's culturally significant! Aren't you trying to help Damian and Cass better acclimate to American pop culture?"
"Steph, the only person who would enjoy it is you. That stuff stopped being amusing to me a while ago, and Cass wouldn't get what's going on. Damian and Jon, I already covered."
Stephanie pouted. "Then what else are we supposed to watch?"
"My Little Pony?" Jason joked.
There was a brief moment of silence.
"No, wait Steph, that was a joke—"
"The things I do for love," Jason sighed, as Nightmare Moon loudly declared 'The Night…shall last…FOREVER!' on the movie screen.
Cass patted him on the back. It didn't help.
"Pinkie Pie is the best pony!" Stephanie exclaimed once they were done with the round of episodes. Jason was suddenly grateful it was 2010 — if it was 2019 then they'd be watching a lot more than one season.
"No, Rainbow Dash is!" Jon protested.
"Rarity," Damian said firmly.
"Fluttershy," Cass hummed.
"Twilight Sparkle," Jason idly commented, blinking when everyone turned to him in surprise, "What?"
"I thought you didn't like the ponies," Stephanie said teasingly.
He shrugged. "She's a bookworm who isolated herself from others only to learn the importance of friendship during a harrowing situation. I identified with that." A cough followed for good measure.
"Sound reasoning, Master Jason," Alfred said from behind him. Stephanie was the only one to jump in shock at his unexpected arrival. The Wayne siblings were used to it, while Jon's ever varying powers picked up his footsteps. "I, for one, prefer Miss Applejack. Hard work and honesty are two values I hold in high regard."
Now everyone was staring at Alfred. Jon and Stephanie were openly gaping at him.
"Now, none of that. Come along, young masters and misses — it's time for bed."
"Alfred is so cool," Stephanie whispered conspiratorially to Cass the moment the door closed. As they were much older than the boys, the girls were allowed to stay up, though Alfred warned them to sleep early enough because breakfast was still at seven and he wasn't going to change that for anything. "He's, like, what I think an old James Bond would be — if James Bond were a butler."
"James Bond?" Cass tilted her head curiously.
"Oh, honey, tomorrow we're going to make a list of all the pop culture references you don't get so that brother of yours can get around to educating you," Stephanie popped her lips, "Really educating you."
The other girl looked down.
Stephanie frowned. "Hey, what's wrong? Is it something I said?" A thought entered her mind, "We don't have to watch anything if you don't want to. We can do something else."
"No, Steph. I…just…" Cass pursed her lips, "My dad."
"Bruce?"
Cass shook her head. "No. Other one. One Tim told you about."
Stephanie felt her heart stop for a moment. "You know about that?"
"It is fine, Steph," Cass reassured her. "Tim trusts you. I trust you."
The blond let out a breath of relief. "Thank God, I was worried I was overstepping," her face softened, and she took Cass' hand into her own, "What's this about your dad?"
"He…not good man," the older girl explained, "He…train me. To do bad things. I was young. Did not know better. Then…I did. I ran. Then…Jason."
"Jason found you?"
"Yes. Jason…he is good. And he cares. But he not like my choices."
"What choices?"
Cass looked uncomfortable. Stephanie didn't like it.
"I want to…help people. And he…likes and not likes. He likes that I care. He…cares for me more."
"He wants you to be safe," Stephanie surmised. Cass was doing something dangerous, and Jason didn't like it and wanted her to be safe. What could it possibly be?
She wanted to press. But while Cass was her friend, that friendship was young. Fragile. The fact that Stephanie was staying at her home overnight was a good first step, a sign of trust — but not an invitation to learn all her secrets.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"He…pushes you to me. Wants me to be like you," Cass frowned, "No. Not right. Not like you. Just…normal."
Stephanie sighed and plastered on her best smile. "Well, I'm sure he doesn't mean anything bad by it. He only wants what's best for you Cass."
"I know," Cass said, "I just…do not want to make him sad. He is sad a lot."
Jason, sad? Stephanie had a hard time believing that. Every time she saw Jason, he always had a smile for her. He was always polite, if a little snarky at times, and far too generous for his own good. You would think someone who grew up in Crime Alley would be more of a miser but no — Jason didn't spend money like a waterfall, but he wasn't afraid to spend it at all if he thought it was worth it.
But Stephanie didn't live with Jason. Cass did. And if she said Jason was sad…
"How do you know?" she asked gently.
Cass smiled. "I see. Not as much as before. But I still see."
Well, that was cryptic. "Okay then. Then tell me — what makes him happy?"
"Us," Cass paused, "Us happy," she amended.
Stephanie waited for more, but none was forthcoming. "That's it?"
Her friend nodded.
"That's…" Stephanie didn't know how to describe it. Suddenly, the word Cass used — sad — seemed incredibly apt.
Something wasn't adding up. She had so many pieces of the puzzle but even more were missing. She wasn't even close to solving it. And if she couldn't solve it, how could she even begin to help Cass?
Cass seemed to realize that. "…Sorry. Should not have said."
"No, no!" Stephanie refuted her. "It's fine. I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me about this. Just let me think for a moment."
Okay, so Cass wanted to do something dangerous, but made her happy. And Jason wants her to be safe, but he also wants her to be happy, so he's allowing her to make her own choice. At the same time, however, it's hurting him letting her do the unsafe thing, making him sad, which is making Cass sad.
The solution was simple: distract him with something that made him happy. Except, apparently, the only thing that really made Jason actually happy was seeing his family happy. The guy apparently had no actual friends of his own or any interests outside of that. Which was…Stephanie didn't know a word to put to it. But maybe she didn't need to put one at all.
"Then the answer to that is simple," Stephanie told her friend, face brightening, "We find something else that makes him happy!"
Cass tilted her head in confusion.
"Clear your schedule tomorrow, Cass! The five of us are going out on the town!"
"Now remember: stay together," Bruce said seriously as fixed up his youngest son's jacket. "And listen to your brother. He's in charge of your safety, and he takes it very seriously."
"Understood, Father," Damian wrinkled his nose, "Though I don't see the point in this endeavor."
"It's to help with your cultural submersion," Bruce explained. Using the words 'cultural submersion' to a seven year old would be ridiculous had the seven year old in question not been Damian Wayne. "It seems we've neglected to take you to the mall. Stephanie seeks to remedy that."
It wasn't hard to see why that was. When Damian and Cass had first arrived with Jason they had been deliberately avoiding too-crowded places to prevent people from recognizing the latter and/or making connections they didn't want people making yet. Hence, when Alfred took them shopping, it was at high-end department stores that specifically catered to Gotham's elite and knew how to be discreet. That trend of avoidance continued when they were officially unveiled to the public, especially after Jason's legal revival. The press and drama would not have been conductive to the many transitions they were going through.
That had been months ago however. They had settled down into the family, with school, and now had friends. The media scrutiny surrounding them had died down to what the Waynes normally dealt with, as opposed to being the hottest topic in the city. They didn't have to hide anymore.
So, when Cass and Stephanie had asked if they could take the boys out to the mall for the day (all the boys, Bruce was warmed to hear), he conceded. It would allow his two newest children to better acclimate to the city, give more activities for them to bond with their friends, and force Jason to actually enjoy himself for once.
(Bruce may have bugged his children's rooms before Stephanie arrived. Precautions and all that.)
"And what is the purpose of this 'mall'?" Damian asked seriously. Bruce stared at him. He knew his son's childhood was far from ideal or normal, but had he seriously never heard of a mall before?
Damian's serious facade held for a moment, before he slowly began to grin. Bruce blinked then gave an exasperated sigh. This is progress, he reminded himself.
"No worries, Father. The tutors mother assigned to me explained the concept of these worship houses of capitalist-based consumerism," Damian said cheekily, before frowning, "Though I still don't understand what amusements could be found there. Clothing and other necessities can easily be purchased over the phone or online. It's not like any of those things are a priority right now."
"The mall isn't just about shopping, Damian," Jason explained as he walked down the stairs, dressed in his dark jacket and jeans, "There's also food and other attractions as well. Like arcades and salons."
Damian huffed. "We have already made our weekly visit to Bat-Pizza and I have no need to have my appearance redone by a professional right at this time."
"That's not what I—forget it," Jason shook his head, "You'll see when we get there. Now where's Jon?"
"Right here!" The youngest of the boys exclaimed cheerfully as he popped out of the breakfast kitchen, a bit of milk on the side of his mouth. "I was helping Alfred with tonight's dessert!"
"He means tasting tonight's dessert," Damian scoffed, "How you still have such a large appetite when breakfast was only three hours ago is beyond me."
"Blame his dad's genes," Jason commented, smirking.
"What's that about Jon's dad's genes?"
The girls had arrived. Stephanie and Cass had decided to coordinate outfits, Stephanie in her classic eggplant color, Cass in white. Both of them were wearing cocoon coats, jeans and sneakers. It made for a striking contrast, and Jason, despite having no romantic or sexual attraction to either of them, could not deny how appealing they looked. Nor was he blind to the fact that a lot of teenage boys spent their Saturdays hanging out at the mall, regardless of the weather.
Even though he knew the girls could take care of themselves, Jason felt that protective big brother instinct flare up. Hopefully today wouldn't end with him punching someone in the face and hauled to GCPD.
"His father could eat a mountain for breakfast, and his mother certainly isn't a slouch in that department either," Bruce replied smoothly, "It only figures that he would inherit their appetite."
Stephanie and Cass exchanged confused looks and shrugged. "So, is everyone ready?"
"Yup," Jason said, taking out a pair of keys from out of his pocket, "We're taking the van just in case we do end up going on a shopping spree, though."
"How thoughtful," Stephanie said sweetly, Cass smiling next to her. The oldest of the boys felt a familiar shudder, memories of shopping trips with his giggling sister and daughters playing in his mind. The ones that saw him become the family pack mule.
Some things really do never change, do they? He thought mournfully.
While Gotham had several shopping areas like any major city, there was only one true mall, one someone terribly uninspired named "Gotham City Mall". That being said, while the namer was uninspired, the designers and modelers were not — Gotham City Mall tastefully echoed the Gothic architecture while mixing in modern sleekness. The pointed arches, spires and buttresses were smoothed out and thinned so they weren't overbearing and expansive, and the stained glass was clear and crisp while still undeniably stained. Combined with the material being silvery metal instead of classic stonework, and it was a successful blend of old Gotham and the shining future that no one except the optimistic, determined, and possibly delusional believed it would have.
Except for Jason Todd, who knew full well that future was in reach. Just terribly hard to achieve.
All this lazily crossed his mind as he slid the van door open to let his companions out. First out was Stephanie and Cass, followed by the boys, who had appropriated the back of the van for themselves. While Stephanie took the appearance of the mall in stride, the other three were not so composed. Even Damian was struck silent by how different it looked compared to the rest of the city.
"This place looks nicer than the Metropolis mall," Jon said in awe.
"One of the few bright spots of this city," Jason agreed, before guiding the four forward towards the entrance. They followed a growing crowd mostly compromised of families and groups of teenagers and other assorted young people, all intent on spending their Saturday at the mall like them.
If the exterior was impressive, the interior was magnificent. Lines of shops and other assorted businesses stretched on for what seemed like miles, piling on top of each other in stories that seemed endless. Off to the side, near the entrance was the food court, bursting with customers that were being expertly handled by each vendors' workers. Looking at it, it was hard to believe a place like this came from Gotham.
"Okay, what do you want to do first? Eat or look?" Jason asked, turning to face the group.
"Actually," Stephanie cut in before anyone could say anything else, "I already have a place in mind."
"Aren't these places usually bars?" Jason asked suspiciously as they entered the darkly-lit restaurant, loud with music and designed like a retro 1950s diner. Towards the back of the place, where a stage had been set up, a man with a comb-over was belting an out-of-tune rendition of Elvis' Burning Love to a rowdy crowd of patrons. Most of which looked like teenagers, Jason realized upon a closer look.
"Yes," Stephanie admitted, "But this one's teen-friendly!"
"What about kid-friendly?"
"It'll be fine, Jason!"
That was not an answer, Jason noted, but before he could press the five of them were already being guided to a booth by the host. Giving in, he grudging followed as well, taking a menu from the host as he slid in next to Damian and Jon.
As he perused through his options, absentmindedly ordering a glass of water when their waiter arrived to take their drink order, he sensed something. A familiar feeling of dread, more-often-than-not stemming from the mischievous antics of his friends and family. Slowly, he lowered his menu to level a glare at Stephanie.
"What did you do?" he asked, voice deathly seriously.
Stephanie whistled, her dimples popping out in a way that betrayed her guilt. Before he could rag her any further, the waiter returned for their drinks and was now asking what they wanted for food. Jason quickly made his order first, a nice, juicy burger that he was going to devour like a ravenous animal the moment it got here because he fucking deserved it, dammit, for whatever the hell Stephanie had planned.
The waiter was gone minutes later. Jason opened his mouth to question his friend again, before a spotlight shined down at him because why the hell not?
From the corner of his eye, he could see Damian leaning out of the way of the light, suitably confused. Next to him, Jon looked similarly perplexed. But Cass…
She was smiling that little knowing smile of hers, and then and there, Jason knew he was fucked.
"And now a special treat for today! You've all ready about his miraculous return from the dead, and now he's making a rare public appearance at our humble little establishment! Please welcome our next singer, Jason Wayne!" There was loud applause, with just a hint of uncertainty. Jason stood up, plastered on his best public smile, and waved to the crowd as he slowly walked to his doom.
Back in the original timeline, Jason Wayne was not a public figure. He had been dead for six years before Bruce's will publicly and legally revived him, and even then he conspicuously kept out of the public eye. It had been an easy thing to do, because pictures of him were sparse and under the name of Jason Todd. Only yearbooks of Gotham Academy and photos at the notoriously photographer-unfriendly Wayne Manor had his likeness documented. It was better that way. He liked his anonymity.
And then his brothers died, and suddenly Jason Wayne was the most famous man in Gotham. Circumstances beyond his control had forced that change on him, and to the day he died, Jason hated it. How the rest of the family had managed to stand it, he never understood. It was hell having to play up an image, knowing that everyone was watching him while he was conducting the most powerful and clandestine vigilante operation in the world, right beneath their noses.
If there was anything he enjoyed about this whole…situation, it was the return to anonymity for those few weeks before everything was blown to hell with his legal revival. He had been dodging the cameras again since then, but now it seemed karma had finally caught up to him. It was inevitable, really — he knew Bruce was planning a formal gala to welcome him back into the family, but that did not mean he was not going to plan his revenge on Stephanie without great relish. Oh no, he was going to relish it deeply, probably record it, and hold it over her head for the rest of their lives.
And then she would find something else to lord over him in retaliation. And it would go on and on and on for the rest of their lives. Like it had before.
God, how he had missed Stephanie.
"So Jason is going to…sing?" Damian asked, mind still slightly boggled.
"Yes," Stephanie giggled, Cass following her lead. Out in the crowd, they could already see several people with their phones out. Watching a Wayne make a spectacle of themselves never got old.
"But why?"
"Because your brother needs to get out more!" Stephanie said as if it was obvious, "When is the last time your brother actually did something besides watch us and read?"
Damian opened his mouth to answer, before realizing that she was right. "…Valid point, Brown. I just hope you are prepared for retribution. I doubt my brother will take this lying down."
"Oh, I'm banking on it, munchkin."
Before more could be said, Jason finally made it to the stage. He took the time to shoot a look at his table, before whispering something to the MC. The man lit up and started typing on his computer, while Jason cleared his throat and spoke to the crowd, his voice amplified by the microphone.
"This is dedicated to all the important women in my life, and how you all drive me insane in your own ways, and how I love you all anyway," He said as the music started up. The crowd quieted and a few gasps were heard; it seems some had recognized the song.
"This is the story of a girl," Jason began, "Who cried a river and drowned the whole world, and while she looked so sad in photographs, I absolutely love her…"
"He's good," Jon whispered, a mixture of awe and wonder. His companions could only nod their assent, dumbstruck.
"…when she smiles!" An even louder cheer rang out, this one distinctly more feminine in sound than the previous applause. Stephanie and Cass looked out the crowd, noticing that many teenage girls were standing up and screaming, practically shooting hearts at Jason with their eyes.
Stephanie smiled, and leaned over to whisper to her friend. "Forgive me, Cass. I think I just made your brother YouTube famous."
Another day, another mission.
Tim groaned as he heard the incessant chattering of his speedster friend reach a fever pitch as they returned to Mount Justice. He liked Bart, he did, it's just that after today, he could really use some peace and quiet. Which was probably a stupid thing to ask for, considering that he was currently surrounded with fellow teenage superheroes. 'Peace' and 'quiet' were only viable options when life and death were on the line.
He didn't regret forming Young Justice with his friends. Bruce was…Bruce, Dick had his own life and his own friends, Jason might have the body of a teenager but was even older than Bruce, Cass barely spoke and was only now getting out of her shell, and Damian still thought he was an idiot. He loved them, he couldn't help it, but he needed a life outside of them. Normally school would cover for that, but he had just changed schools and his only real friend at Gotham Academy was Stephanie Brown. And while he liked her (how much and of what nature he wasn't entirely sure of), there were some things he couldn't talk to her about. To say nothing of how he'd been sharing her with Cass for the past month.
Young Justice fulfilled that outlet for social interaction. While they may not know his identity like the Waynes (his family, Tim wanted to say but could not, not yet) did, they were still good company besides. They shared his interests, they were significantly less uptight, and he felt more of an equal to them than he did to Bruce. They listened to him, and not the other way around. It was…different, but the good kind.
Of course, Young Justice didn't come without its own pitfalls. The identity thing, for one, and while he knew Jason said it was okay if he did share some of his secrets, Tim still couldn't find it in himself to do it. The information his mentor (brother) had given him was useful, but it was dangerous too, and Tim could only imagine what would happen if it got out that he had it. That weird limbo of knowing and not knowing was gnawing at him, and he wondered how long it would be before he broke.
For another, his friends were still young superheroes like he was, except their mentors were a lot less strict and involved in their development. Even though Bruce and Jason weren't physically present, Tim still felt the weight of their gazes on him. That was made all too obvious considering that Jason had gone as far as to institute specific instructions about his training to Red Tornado, banning him from coffee even here and making him the team's unofficial cook.
As a consequence, however, Tim was far more serious on missions than they were. Efficient, less likely to be distracted, always planning ahead. The others took things on with a levity that not even Dick was capable of. It was nice at times but it could also be supremely distracting. Did they not realize how much thin ice they were on? That this team was only possible because of the graces of the Justice League and their guardians? That all it would take was just one slip-up — one — for all of it to come crashing down on their heads?
Tim wasn't a cynic. He was, however, a pessimist, and that had served him well during his tenure as Robin thus far. One of the reasons he hadn't dived too deeply into the tablet Jason had given him was because he didn't want to know how bad things were going to get. The vindication wasn't worth it.
"…How many lovers would stay? Just to put up with this shit day after day," the sound of singing broke through his thoughts, and he blinked. He turned around to see Cassie and Cissie giggling over the former's phone, where the music was coming from.
"What are you two watching?" He asked, curiosity winning out. For some reason, that voice sounded very familiar.
The girls looked up at him, and giggled even louder. "You know Jason Wayne, right?" Cissie said, then bopped her head, "Of course you do, you're from Gotham. Anyway, this video of him singing at a karaoke bar just went viral."
Karaoke bar? What's Jason doing at one of those? Isn't this the weekend Steph and Jon are supposed to be staying over at the Manor? Tim couldn't help it — he whipped out his phone and typed in 'Jason Wayne karaoke' into the search bar. Immediately, a video came up, titled 'Jason Wayne - Story of a Girl'. Tim clicked on it instantly.
What followed next was the blackmail material of the century. As he watched his brother belt out a tune that would soon make him the next teen heartthrob of America, Tim saw memories crash through his mind like a hurricane — memories of being denied coffee, pizza, and other beloved foodstuffs, and felt his heart lighten.
There really is a God out there, he thought with a soft, thankful sigh.
"…Your clothes never wear as well the next day, and your hair never falls in quite the same way, but you never seem to run out of things to say…!"
"Oh, little wing!" Dick lightly exclaimed, touched. He pressed a hand to his heart as he watched his little brother sing. "How did I not know how great a singer you could be?"
"Is that Jason?" Roy saddled up next to him, peeking over his friend's shoulder. He guffawed when he saw what was happening. "Oh boy, your brother is never going to live this down."
"Roy!" Dick scolded.
"He's right, Dick," Donna said next to them, Garth grinning beside her. "Your little brother has just gone viral. There is no living this down. Ever."
"Plus," Wally added, pulling up on the other side of his best friend, "You gotta admit that it's kind of hilarious."
Dick took another look at the playing video, and shrugged. "Point."
"Master Bruce?" Alfred entered his employer's study, carrying the customary tea tray. At his desk, Bruce seemed to be watching something intently on his laptop, a pair of headphones on his ears.
Silently, Bruce took the headphones off, and turned the laptop around. Alfred watched the video for a few seconds, raising an eyebrow.
"You've saved the file, I hope?" When Bruce nodded, Alfred smirked. "Good."
"Is there anything you're not good at?" Stephanie asked the moment Jason returned to their table.
"Forgiveness," the boy deadpanned, glowering at her. "Expect my retribution to be swift, brutal, and out of nowhere."
Stephanie shrugged. "Worth it."
"Did you have fun?" Cass asked quietly.
Jason looked at her, and his face softened into a smile. The smile remained as he shifted his gaze to Damian and Jon, and then to Stephanie, who he gave a single nod.
"Yeah," he admitted, "I did."
That last bit with the singing was filler. It might come back later as an in-joke, but it has no real bearing on the plot.
Building more on the relationship Stephanie has with the Waynes. This is one of the ways she grounds them — she reminds them to have fun. Jason is satisfied and happy thus far, but he really hasn't had actual fun in a while. And his family has noticed, and they don't like it.
Now, this might be the last chapter for a while. I've gone through my entire buffer and thus need to start writing new chapters. I've just been distracted by drafting the first climactic fight of the story (which you won't be seeing for a while, unfortunately) to ensure the final product is suitably epic. It'll take a while to build there, but when get there, I'm sure you're all going to love it.
Next chapter, we resume the plot!