Yo~~ I just left Jason hanging didn't I? My bad, Dabisuo was taking up too much of my attention haha.

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Bloodloveless: Haha Wally and Dick did end up being more cuter than I originally imagined XD. I can't wait to write more juicy scenes for them too. I always did admire Dick and don't mind giving him some screen time here lol. Dick is beautiful esp as Nightwing. WOW, that was all a coincidence, I didn't even really do any research, just threw that coma info in there and imagined what it would have felt like haha. Thanks for sharing that experience tho, that was really interesting to know, not gonna lie. You wish there was a Bruce over there taking care of you (who doesn't?) Haha Dick is resentful slash looking out for Jason, he can't help it. Yes, good luck in your stories—there are always new readers that will discover them. Thanks as always for reviewing!

Disclaimer in first chapter.

Chapter 12

After waking up Jason had been bedridden for the most part. He was healing his broken bones so he wasn't permitted to walking about in the manor. Alfred brought him his meals and Tim and Dick took turns giving him company. Bruce would stop by as well briefly, but facing each other was difficult for both of them. Aside from the guilt and shame from either end, there were also Jason's feelings to consider. Feelings he'd rather bury and not acknowledge but ever since he was granted another chance at life, he couldn't stop his beating heart. A weak, and now overworked heart but nonetheless pulsating irrhythmically whenever he saw Bruce's face these days. It was unnerving for him.

One night, as part of the new routine, Alfred got the food cart ready to bring to Jason's room. "I'll take it." Bruce offered and the butler curtly handed it over.

"Forget it, I'll do it." However, Dick interjected and took the cart by the handles instead. Bruce made no attempt to argue as the younger stole it away, as the mature adult (he told himself).

Jason grimaced while he struggled to drink his water, leaning against the headboard. 'What exactly is this situation? This air is so tense—I can't even swallow!' The teen felt like he was being choked by the atmosphere flanking him. In the end both Bruce and Dick brought Jason's dinner and they now sat in hostile silence in his room.

"Okay…is this your idea of giving me company?" The teen mouthed irate. No answer. "Fine, I get why you two are here…but Tim?"

"I didn't wanna eat alone." Tim always found himself somewhere in their circle, but his presence was too muted to be noticed half the time.

"And I'm here in case you need anything, Master Jason."

"A-Alfred? When did you get here?" Jason didn't even notice when the butler slipped into the room too. "Geez, the whole gang is here—you guys might as well just move your dining table here." The teen sarcastically remarked.

"Magnificent idea sir." The butler humbly responded to his suggestion.

"That was sarcasm." The teen clarified.

"Hm, it doesn't sound like a bad idea. That way we can all have dinner together again and space is no object. However, we wouldn't want to disturb you." Bruce chimed in.

"Okay just leave my dinner than. You guys are fired." Jason waved them all out, missing his peace and quiet all of a sudden.

"You can only use your left hand though." Bruce reminded.

"Wait what are you insist—" The younger trailed off when he watched Bruce lift a bowl and held out a spoon full of porridge towards him. Jason's stomach churned. "No way." The elder flashed a puzzled inquisitive look his way. Jason swallowed hard, trying to calm his suddenly pounding heart—just imagining Bruce feeding him, or wiping his mouth…stop.

"My pride's been damaged enough and being incapacitated like this—there's no way I'm gonna be fed by you." It sounded much harsher than Jason intended. But he didn't want to be dependent on Bruce for every single damn thing. It had only been a few days since he woke up, but he's been managing just fine with his left hand or with Alfred or Dick's help.

Bruce frowned like he couldn't fathom his reasoning. "It'll be very difficult for you especially with the bandages and limited mobility."

"Jason, if you don't eat you won't heal." Dick stepped into the conversation now. "Unless you want to be bedridden forever like this, to not able to even stand on your own two feet." Jason grunted at the reminder. "Let me." His elder brother kindly took the bowl from the billionaire and began feeding Jason instead.

Bruce watched like a hawk, expression flat and unreadable but stiff as ever at the rejection. Aside from the dark vine growing feeling in his chest, he didn't know exactly how to feel. He was one of the most influential person in Gotham and one of the most powerful vigilantes, yet he was rejected by a teenager.

Jason fidgeted and his posture was far from comfortable. "Can the rest of you at least go?" He finally mouthed and Bruce figured all the eyes on him were making him uneasy.

"Master Tim, how about some ice cream?" Alfred got the message and led Tim out the room who gladly obliged. However, Bruce stood against the wall, unbudgingly. Was his pride hurt?

"You heard him." Dick pointed to the billionaire, but Bruce only crossed his arms against his chest, expression unfazed. Dick decided to ignore and continue to feed him and at one point Bruce realized he really didn't need to be there. So, while the teen wordlessly chewed, he silently slipped out. The younger's eyes latched on to him though when he walked out the door.

"Stop looking at me like that or else I'm not gonna let you do this next time ether—really, treating me like some invalid." Jason complained after his brother finished feeding him and was staring him down. "It's in the past now—I can't change anything. What's done is done."

"Still. I…" Dick sighed, more like he needed a moment to regain himself. "I'm still angry at you, but I'm even angrier at myself. How could I not have paid that much attention to you—if only I'd known—"

"You couldn't have." Jason cut him off. "It's not your damn fault. You have better things to worry about—you've been taking care of us for years now and I'd be dammed if I let you waste your free time worrying about me. This is no one's fault but my own. Not your's, not Bruce's, I was the one who was foolish and now I'm reaping the consequences. That's why I can't complain. And I'm not blaming anyone." Jason confessed. What was the saying? Something like mistakes make you wiser and the pain makes you stronger? The teen felt something akin to that. "Though, I can't guarantee joker's gonna get away with this…"

"Jason."

"I know, I'm not. I'm just saying. Trust me I'm not going anywhere—not with these bones."

"Jay… I'm so glad you're alive. Don't ever do this again. Do. You. Hear. Me?" Dick glared dead serious until Jason gave a short nod to which he hugged the teen tightly but gingerly—an itch he had been dying to get rid of. "But don't think you're totally free yet. I'm gonna get you for this after you recover." He stabbed.

"Che," Jason scoffed.

Unbeknownst to them, Bruce was standing outside their room, nails digging in his palms as he partially blamed himself.

After another week, Jason was approval to do physical therapy. He also had sessions of vision therapy, occupational therapy and the whole shebang for traumatic brain injury patients. The teen was eager to move around and make some progress.

It had now been a month since he started his therapies and he was progressing, slowly but surely. Bruce had arranged a whole room to act as his physical therapy room with crutches, parallel metal bars, weights, etc. The younger could now walk but with both his crutches—he'd accept that since he was going insane just laying in bed.

Furthermore, Jason was forced to take his college semester off because aside from the fact that he was physically impaired, he was also having trouble sustaining focus for long periods—especially when it came to boring school work. He didn't even want to think about it. Meanwhile, Dick and Tim continued to live with them in the manor since the teen was still healing.

Bruce walked in one day finding Jason staggering in his recuperation room, one crutch on the floor while he enforced himself to walk with only one tucked under his arm. The teen was always the impatient one after all.

"Jason!" The elder paced towards him, initially convinced that the teen was falling and needed help. "What are you—"

"Stop!" Jason shouted at the top of his lungs, making the other freeze in footsteps. "Just. Hugh—godammit, stay there." The teen demanded insinuating that he wanted to do this alone. He had to do this alone. Bruce immediately understood and straightened his stance, eventually extending both arms, welcoming and encouraging the teen to walk to him all on his own. Jason looked him straight in the eyes and he saw fire in those turquoise crystals. The elder was proud of how determined the teen was as he watched him put close to zero weight on the crutch and attempted to walk straight. Halfway through the room he ditched the other crutch as well, relying fully on his own limbs and joints and manipulating his center of gravity by slouching forward.

However, he hardly lasted two steps, before his legs trembled violently and had him falling face forward on his knees, elbows holding him up on the floor. The teen panted a few times, catching his breath and subsiding the internal pain. 'Shit. I still can't… and I don't wanna keep banging my knees on the ground…' Jason gritted.

"Jason." Bruce's calling was exactly the push and inspiration he needed. The teen jolted his head up, his partner stood solidly at the end of the room, by the door, arms still extended, waiting for him like there was no other option for Jason. It was an obligation to reach him or else Bruce threatened to stand there forever.

'Was that supposed to encourage him?' Well, coming from Bruce, it probably was. And that was enough for him. His heart pounded against his ribcage once as he dragged himself up again. 'I can do it.' The younger had at least five more steps before he was anywhere close to Bruce. After four steps his legs began shaking again. They were trembling the entire time, but with every step, the muscles in his calves were spasming exponentially. Jason gave up at the last step, and he could practically reach out to touch Bruce's arm hand at this point but he descended forward, considering this as a victory no less.

Bruce took a step and automatically caught him in his arms, the teens arms dangling over his muscular arms. "You did very well." He reassured. Jason scoffed at the patronization.

"Thanks B." He appreciated nonetheless, allowing himself to rest his cheek against the elder's shoulder, arms gripping wherever he could for support. The elder's grasp on him tightened, and they remained like that for only a second but it felt like the longest second ever before Bruce hoisted him up.

"Gee, I'm gonna get too used to this." Lies. He already had.

"That's fine." To his awe, the batman didn't mind coddling him and carrying him around like this, so effortlessly.

"Man, I'm starving after that." Was all he said and Bruce was leading them to the dining room.

"Understandable. But avoid straining yourself too much without supervision."

"Yeah yeah okay."

"I mean it Jay."

"Okay, I get it dad." Oops. Jason caught himself. That was a bad habit—he called Dick a parent name all the time when he was arguing or tired of listening. "Sorry, force of habit—"

"Actually Jason…I've been thinking," The elder placed him on one of the table chairs while the teen waited for him to continue. Except he disappeared into the kitchen to bring him a plate of pasta instead. Alfred made a fresh tray and left it out on the counter for them to dig in. Bruce then pulled out a chair for himself as well, sitting on the edge of the table. "I hope you don't find this sudden, but I have been considering it for a while."

"Considering what?"

"…How would you like to live here permanently?"

"What?" Jason backtracked.

"Not just as Robin, but as part of the Wayne household." Bruce clarified.

Jason's eyes went wide and he wasn't chewing anymore. "Are you saying…?" 'No.'

"Yes, I'd like to adopt you. As my son—if you'll have me."

The younger grinded down on his lower lip. 'Shit.' Bruce Wayne as his father—don't get him wrong, that privilege was grandiose, and he wasn't going to lie, Bruce already felt more like a father and older brother to him then anyone else. But. But. He didn't want it. He didn't want to be his son.

This inexpressible, insuppressible gradually growing ache in his heart…

"No." Jason mouthed, eyes on the table.

Bruce closed his eyes briefly, expecting that response. "Jason I know that's your initial response to everything but—"

"No—I mean, really, I don't think that's a great idea." The ravenette faced him this time. "I appreciate all the help you've given me, but I won't separate from my brothers like that—"

"Of course not. I would never do that to you. In fact, I want them to live here as well. These past weeks have given life to this dead manor and I'm afraid both Alfred and I have gotten too accustomed to it, to see it go away." Jason opened his mouth to retort but Bruce beat him to it. "Eat, for now. And give it some thought later." Bruce concluded with that as he stood up and attended to other business in the manor. Jason was left in the silence of the room, fork in mouth, slowly digesting more than the pasta at hand.

Jason was lounging on the armchair in front of the fireplace, legs up with a mug resting on the side table which was now cold and half finished. The teen was spaced out, eyes staring at the fire flaring delicately before him while he rested his face on his knuckles.

"…ason? Jason?" The teen snapped when he heard Dick call out his name. The younger lifted his face a fraction and turned to him. "What?"

"I've been calling you for a whole minute now. What's up?" Dick scolded.

"Uh, nothing." Jason causally responded, debating whether he should bring up the topic in the back of his head or not.

"Are you sure? Want me to reheat that?" His elder brother pointed to his hot chocolate.

"Mn…nah, I'm done for now."

"Want me to take it back then?"

"Sure."

Dick lifted it up, Bruce walking in around the same time. "Is everything alright?" The elder asked and approached them, noticing the half-finished drink which was Jason's favorite and rare for him to not devour it. The elder impulsively planted his whole palm on the younger's forehead whose head bobbed back once at the gentle force. "You're not sick." It was a more of a statement than a question. "Is your stomach unwell?"

"No, I'm fine, just…" 'Thinking.' Jason looked Bruce in the eye and knew he'd be able to read his mind.

"…don't think too hard." The billionaire ushered, hand moving down to his shoulder and patting it once. Now that could have a double meaning in Jason's world.

In reality Jason didn't want to let go of Bruce. He wouldn't mind jumping to the opportunity to live with him, but not as a son. He did consider him a father figure, but also as a friend, someone to confide to, learn from, look up to. Then there were his vague feelings, which he still couldn't figure out somedays if they were real or all just confusion and attachment…

Maybe if he agreed to being his son, that'll create an unbreakable bond between them? On paper as well, so he didn't have to worry about becoming estranged. 'No, what am I thinking—that's pretty selfish.'

To Be continued…

Poor Jason, so conflicted. And Bruce is so oblivious haha . Sorry if there are any awkward mistakes, I don't know why I'm distracted despite my attention not divided anywhere else. *Shrugs* But Thanks for reading and please review~