Gifts From the Sea, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

Batfam Bingo 2019: AU: Zoo

Chapter 16 - After Robin (rough draft 2)

Robin's injury was fully healed and Bruce had no excuse to keep procrastinating. "All right, lad. I suppose today's the day. Let's get you some breakfast and then send you...back home."

The seal gulped down his fish and, when Bruce carried him outside and set him down on the wet sand, crawled into the waves and vanished without fanfare. Bruce sat down and waited, and after a while, Jason climbed over some rocks and came trekking toward him.

"Why the long face?" the boy asked, sitting down about a foot away.

"I released Robin," Bruce murmured. "He's gone now."

Jason fiddled with his shoes and mumbled, "Bet he's grateful you took care of him when he was hurt an' alone."

Bruce smiled, still looking out at the sea. "I hope he finds his family."

"Dumb pup prob'ly doesn't have a family, or they don't want 'im. No one wants ugly half-breeds."

"Robin was not ugly," Bruce objected. "He was very sweet and precious."

Jason fidgeted, then asked, blushing as he continued to stare at the sand, "What did you like about Robin?"

Bruce hid a smile. "Well, he was adorable, but I don't think you want to hear that." Sure enough, Jason wrinkled his nose in distaste. "And he was so smart; so, so smart."

"Fer a dumb animal," Jason mumbled.

"He was smart, period. Sometimes I'd experiment, trying to trick him, but he saw through me every single time."

The corner of Jason's mouth quirked in amusement.

"Even when he wouldn't do what I said, I could tell it was because he didn't want to, not because he didn't understand what I wanted. He was- I could just tell. His eyes. You'd look into his eyes and it really was like seeing a person looking back. He was a person." Bruce rested his forehead in his hand and sighed. "I miss him..." 'And Dick. God, I miss Dick so much...'

Jason edged closer. "You're a lonely old man, huh."

"A lonely young man," Bruce huffed. "I'm not even 30 yet."

Jason fidgeted. "Well. Your guest room's not so bad, and I like your books. I'm not cute, but maybe I c'n...hang around. For a while. Keep you company since you lost your dumb seal." He finally looked directly at Bruce, glaring. " 'S long as you're not a creep, got it?"

Bruce smiled. "Got it." He rose to his feet and held out a hand, but Jason stood up without taking it. "I assume you're going to stick around for lunch later. You have anything in particular in mind?"

"Yeah, but you have to let me cook. Your cooking sucks."

"All right, Jay."

o.o.o

Their routine now was a little different, since Jason preferred to curl up in the easy chair by the window with a stack of books for hours rather than play games like Robin had. Since this gave Bruce more free time, he had to figure out what to do with it when he wasn't training or reading parenting books.

They started homeschooling on week days, which Jason took to more readily than Bruce expected. Of course the boy was behind grade level, but he was a quick learner and worked steadily to catch up. Bruce would teach him for a few hours in the morning, let him work quietly on his own, then grade his work while Jason read books, and finish up by helping Jason fix any mistakes he'd made.

In the afternoon, they'd go out for a run on the beach or swimming (Jason usually preferred the ocean to the pool) or sailing. The times they went fishing, Bruce never questioned why Jason would shut himself in the cabin on the way back to shore, or why their catch always seemed significantly lighter when it was unloaded than it had been back on the boat.

They'd go into town at least once a week for supplies and to check the mail. Jason was not the people person Dick had been - instead of befriending the locals, he mostly kept quiet and stuck close to Bruce. A few people who recognized him pulled Bruce aside to express their concerns, but the man assured them that he knew Jason's history of stealing and trespassing, and that he'd chosen to give the boy a home specifically to keep him off the street, safe, and provided for.

"What do you think of going to school in town?" Bruce asked once. Though Jason certainly had issues, Bruce was not nearly as worried about the boy as he'd been about his blue-haired, slimy-skinned, fish-tailed son.

"No way."

"You'd get to be around other kids your own age." Bruce was a little worried that Jason, isolated on the island with only his guardian for company, was not getting properly socialized.

"Teenagers were the ones who'd hurt me most when I was- when I didn't have a house."

Bruce swallowed and dropped the issue.

o.o.o

At one point, Bruce quietly messaged his allies on the political front, strongly suggesting that they alter their goal a little to secure rights for all sea people, not just mer specifically. It didn't change much, since fully humanoid metas in general were seeking legal confirmation of their status as people (although they were usually treated better than their less human-looking fellows, they were not yet officially protected). Still, Bruce wanted to make absolutely certain that Jason would be covered by any new laws that were passed. When he brought it up in a group vidchat with Clark and the others, Arthur looked at him knowingly and laughed.

o.o.o

"Jason, give me your socks, I'm about to start a load of laundry."

"What?! No!"

Bruce blinked at the unexpected resistance. "Jay, your socks are filthy, I can see how brown the bottoms are from here."

"I'll go change," Jason said, jumping to his feet and pounding up the stairs, ignoring Bruce calling after him. Bruce sighed and followed, finding Jason rummaging frantically through various drawers.

"That's why I'm doing laundry, Jay, because you're completely out of clean socks," he said patiently.

"Fine, then wash my socks, I'll change afterward!"

"If you give me the ones you have on now, I can wash them, too. They'll barely make a difference to the load."

"Leave my socks the fuck alone!"

Bruce stared, nonplussed by the boy's fury and panic over such a trivial matter. "...What if I give you a pair of my own clean socks to wear while I'm washing yours?"

"Fine! FINE! Get the fuck out of my room!"

Jason shut himself in after that. He cracked the door just enough to hurl his dirty socks into the hall, and Bruce had to leave the clean ones on the floor. Then he went down to the laundry room, and as he was loading the washing machine and starting a cycle, he thought hard, going back over all the time he'd known Jason. He finally concluded that he did not have a single memory of seeing the boy's bare feet. Jay's obsession with water shoes on the beach wasn't because he simply liked them, it was because he had something to hide.

Bruce added the matter to his research list.

o.o.o

"Robin," Bruce deliberately said one night at dinner, "could you pass the salt, please?"

Jason, his mouth full of macaroni and cheese, grunted and did so, eyes still intent on his food. Bruce had counted all the way to 31 before the boy's head suddenly shot up. "Wait, what?! What'dja call me?!"

"Jason?" Bruce said, feigning confusion.

Jason narrowed his eyes. Bruce casually lowered his own gaze and took another bite. "...You called me Robin."

"Did I?"

"You called me Robin! I'm not a fuckin' seal, don't call me Robin!"

"I'm sorry, Jay, it just slipped out. I miss him, you know? I was so used to talking to him before. I apologize."

Jason glared at him suspiciously for a long moment. "I'm not a seal."

Bruce smiled. "Well, you certainly don't look like one right now."

"I'm human! I'm a human being, okay?!"

"Yes, Jay, of course you are. You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."

"Don't be condescending," Jason grumbled, lowering his head almost completely down to his bowl and hugging it with one arm as he scooped another bite of macaroni into his mouth.

Bruce ruffled his hair, feeling affectionate but also a little more sad than he expected to.

o.o.o

When Jason was late coming down for breakfast one morning, Bruce went to check on him and was concerned to find the boy still huddled in bed, breathing noisily, forehead hot to the touch. "Oh no, Jay..."

Bruce checked the Internet to find out how to take care of a sick human child, hoping that the instructions were the same even if the child wasn't completely human.

He brought soup and bottles of juice and water and medicine, and once Jason seemed to be resting a little easier, he hesitated and took hold of the edge of the hoodie. Jason had never once taken it off in Bruce's presence the entire time they'd been living together, and Bruce worried for a minute that removing it might hurt the boy. Then he remembered that Jason had been without it once, the time they'd met on the cliff, and had seemed perfectly fine physically. The poor thing had to be baking hot now, sweating and feverish while encased in a fairly thick garment.

Bruce carefully removed the hoodie, shushing and crooning when Jason moaned in his sleep. "It's all right, Jay, I'll keep it right here for you, it's not going anywhere. Hush, Robin, you're safe; you're safe, lad..."

Jason whimpered and went still. Bruce patted him in reassurance and then, since he might not ever have another chance, turned his attention to the hoodie to study it. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary garment - the only unusual things about it were that it didn't have a tag like store-bought clothes did, and despite the fact that Jason wore it 24/7 and never, to Bruce's knowledge, washed it, it looked clean and brand-new.

Smiling a little in awe, Bruce put a basket on the bedside table and, although not good at folding clothes, did his best to carefully fold the sweater and set it in the basket, within arm's reach of the boy it belonged to. He peered at Jason again. The boy was in a deep, exhausted sleep, so Bruce very lightly brushed his fingers through Jason's curly locks and then headed downstairs to make some lunch for himself.

Hours later, he was lying on the divan in Jason's room, scrolling through the news on his phone. He was so absorbed that he didn't notice anything amiss until a fist seized his hair and yanked his head back, the edge of a steak knife pressing into his neck.

"Gimme back my hoodie," Jason snarled.

"Jay," Bruce tried to say, rolling his eyes to the side to look because he didn't dare move his head.

Jason looked unsteady and a little glassy-eyed, beads of sweat on his forehead. His skin was still warm with fever and his expression burned with fury. "Give me my hoodie, you bastard."

Bruce couldn't speak without risking injury, so he pointed toward the bedside table.

"SHOW ME!" Jason screamed, giving Bruce's head a shake so that the serrated blade dragged through skin.

Bruce very carefully got off the divan, on his knees because Jason's grip didn't allow him enough height to stand. Blood started to trickle down his neck as he cautiously shuffled toward the nightstand.

"Yer all th' fuckin' same," Jason raged. "Fin'lly saw your chance, huh? Bastard. I never should've fucking trusted you, never, you're all the fucking same, think you can-"

Bruce desperately banged his fist against the nightstand, causing the basket on top to waver.

Jason stared at the pool of red fabric inside. "What...?"

The hand holding the knife drooped, and Bruce said, "It's been there the whole time, Jay. I would never take it from you, never-"

Jason let out a sob and seized the hoodie with one hand, clutching it close as he tucked the knife away. He collapsed to the floor and crawled away, crying, then struggled to put on the sweater.

"Jason-"

"Don't touch me!" the boy screamed. "Don't touch me! Stay the fuck away from me!" He was sobbing and weak as he worked, and finally managed to get both arms into the sleeves, though he couldn't pull it over his head. Then he just wept, rocking a little as his fists bunched in the red fabric and pressed it tight to his heart. "Don't take...my hoodie...leave me alone...leave me...alone...don't touch me...!"

Bruce went to the bathroom to bandage his neck, then returned. When Jason saw him coming, he started pushing himself frantically across the floor with his feet, looking terrified, hands still anchored in the hoodie. "Don't- Don't, I didn't-! Please don't! NO!" He ducked hard when Bruce bent over him, but looked a little bewildered when Bruce went for his pocket and took out the knife. Then, seeing a large, angry man looming over him with a weapon, he wailed and tried to cover his head without letting go of the hoodie.

"I'm locking up all the blades in this house," Bruce snapped. "From now on, if you have a problem, we will talk. Threatening people with knives is NOT acceptable, Jason. Do you understand me?"

"Fuck you!"

"I SAID 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME.' "

Jason flinched, ducking his head again.

"Jason. I'm not going to hit you. I will never lay a violent hand on you. But I expect you to rein in your own violence as well; do you understand me."

"I'm sorry," Jason whimpered.

"I didn't ask for an apology, I asked for acceptance of house rules. No violence against people, including animals."

Jason was gasping for breath now. Bruce finally softened, setting the knife aside. "Jay." He knelt, reached out to rest a hand on Jason's back, then thought better of it and retracted his hand without touching the boy. "Jason. Please look at me."

Jason buried his face in the hoodie and covered his head with one arm, awkwardly because it was still in the sleeve of a garment he wasn't actually wearing.

Bruce closed his eyes briefly, then sat back and waited.

It took a long time, but Jason's crying finally faded to sniffles. He slowly straightened up, still clutching the hoodie. He carefully scooted back against the side of the bed, then watched Bruce with anguished eyes, sweater clutched to his front, knees up protectively.

Still Bruce waited.

"I'm sorry," Jason finally ventured.

"For what?"

"...Holdin' a knife on you..." Jason mumbled.

"I'm still locking up the blades. And you never answered me before. If you have a problem with me, we're going to talk it out. Right, Jason?"

Jason scowled and fidgeted, but finally mumbled at the floor, "Yeah."

Bruce nodded and got up. "Now, let's get you back into bed."

Jason curled in on himself. "Don't take my hoodie."

"Jason, have I ever taken your hoodie away from you?"

"Y- You just did...!"

"I might have taken it off your body, but then where did I put it, Jason?"

Jason glanced at the nightstand and then glared at his socked feet.

"It was right next to you. I just wanted to make you a little more comfortable-"

"I'm COMFORTABLE with my hoodie fuckin' ON!" Jason yelled.

"All right, maybe I made a mistake. But I didn't take your hoodie away from you, Jason."

"You lookin' fer a fuckin' 'pology?!"

"That's not necessary, but it would be appreciated."

Jason blinked in surprise.

"A sincere apology, not just appeasement because you mistakenly thought I might hurt you."

"...What's wrong with you, you weirdo?!" Jason exclaimed.

Bruce waited.

Jason finally looked down. After a long moment, he started crying again. Finally, sniffling, he said, "My mom gave this to me. It's all I have left of her, and you- I thought you took it away an'...an' I was too dumb to see it sittin' right next to me, so...sorry for thinking...you took it...when you didn't."

"Thank you, Jason. I appreciate your apology."

The boy's cheeks reddened as he continued staring at the floor.

"You're not dumb, though. You're sick and upset; it was an honest mistake. Don't call yourself names."

"..."

"Jay, I will not touch your hoodie, but I'm going to come over there and put my hands under your arms so I can help you up, all right?"

"No!" Jason scrambled to stand up, but he was weak and hampered by the garment entangling his arms. He flinched at Bruce's touch, but when the man helped him into bed and tugged the blanket up over his legs and smoothed his hair out of his face, he relaxed a little.

"You're okay, Jay," Bruce murmured. "You're safe. You will always be safe in my home."

Jason looked up at him, more tears leaking slowly down his face. "I screwed up this time, but 'f you really do take my hoodie, then...then I'll kill you. Not gonna lie belly-up fer someone hurtin' me for real."

"No killing. House rules. But when you feel better, Jay, I can teach you some self-defense techniques."

Jason frowned a little and raised his head. "What?"

"I'll teach you how to defend yourself, if you want. I want you to feel safe, Jay."

Jason lay there for a while, gazing at him. Then he swallowed and said, "House rules. Don't touch my hoodie."

"All right. I'm sorry for touching it this time. I thought it was making you too hot while you were trying to sleep and fight off this illness."

" 'M not too hot."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You're visibly sweating."

"Maybe I like being too hot."

Bruce chuckled. "Oh, kiddo..."

Jason swallowed again. "I'm...thirsty..."

"Do you want some soup?"

"Yeah! Um, yes, please."

"All right. Drink some juice while I go warm it up."

Just before he left, Bruce paused and leaned to cup his hand against the side of the boy's head. "I want you to be happy, Jay."

"Why?"

"I care about you, and I worry about you. Seeing you angry or frightened or sad makes me sad."

"Weirdo."

Bruce smiled and kissed the top of his head, then headed down to the kitchen.

TBC