Gifts From the Sea, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl

Batfam Bingo 2019: AU: Zoo

Chapter 19 - Gotham (rough draft 2)

They made their way to Gotham by sea, and the boys swam much of the way (Dick more than Jason, though, since the latter spent a fair amount of time reading on the deck). Bruce made them both get on board well before they reached their destination because of both the pollution and the increased boat traffic.

"Dick, Gotham is dangerous," he said, wondering how best to make his carefree eldest understand. "Grandma and Grandpa live in Bristol, which is safe, but the city itself is very different. It's not like home at all, people are not nice."

"They'll cuss you out or ignore you if you say hi to random strangers on the street," Jason added, "and if you're alone in a wheelchair, they'll think you're an easy target for mugging."

"Mugging means they threaten to hurt you if you don't give them your money and other valuables," Bruce explained, his chest feeling tight.

"Why do people do that?!" Dick exclaimed.

"Because people suck," Jason stated. "Just stick close to us and don't talk to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," Dick pouted.

"Also, we need to go over our cover story," Bruce said. He was too well-known a figure to be able to move anonymously through Gotham City, and people were going to have questions about the two boys who accompanied him, one of whom was officially a missing person and the other apparently disabled and not legally a person at all.

They docked at an upscale marina and killed time at a restaurant while they waited for the car to arrive. Bruce had remembered at the last minute to dress in an outfit that matched the setting, but he didn't have any nice clothes for the boys. (Living in a beach town for years had altered his standards more than he'd realized; everyone at the marina seemed overdressed to him.) People in the restaurant stared at Dick in his wheelchair, long sleeves, raised hood, and sunglasses, and at Jason in his hoodie, cut-off shorts, socks, and battered shoes. Bruce lifted his chin in self-assured challenge at anyone he happened to make eye contact with, and they hastily looked away.

Then a man's boisterous voice cut across the general rumble of chatter. "Wayne! Bruce Wayne, as I live and breathe!"

"Hi, George," Bruce said, trying not to let his internal sigh show as he stood up to shake hands with his old schoolmate. He couldn't remember the name of the man's insipid wife, so he just smiled and clasped her hand, nodding at their prim little son.

"Back in Gotham at last, huh! And who do we have here?" George added, peering at Bruce's boys.

Jason was glowering, an arm curled around his plate like he thought someone might steal his food. "Are you going to mugging me?" Dick asked curiously. "I don't have money, but B does!"

"What's that, now?" George exclaimed in surprise.

"This is Dick and Jason," Bruce explained. "I'm looking after them while they're in the city. We're actually on our way to see Mother and Father."

"Oh, splendid! Say, we've got a deep-sea fishing trip planned in the morning; care to join us?"

"I'm afraid I'm here on business, got some papers to see to."

As the men were talking, the skinny, immaculately coiffed woman was keeping her distance, grimacing at the Wayne boys in distaste and hanging onto her own son as if trying to prevent him from getting too close to them. The boy was staring openly.

"What's wrong with your legs?" he finally asked Dick.

"Don't have any," the mer said cheerfully.

"Someone cut them off?"

"Nope."

"It's none of your business," Jason snapped, sliding into Bruce's vacated chair so he could be closer to his brother.

"Aren't you hot in that sweater?"

"No. Fuck off."

The little family gaped, and Bruce said disapprovingly, "Jason, language."

"Fine; buzz off, you little pasty-faced buttsucker."

"Good heavens, Mr. Wayne!" the mother gasped.

"You're a buttsucker," her son said lamely.

"William, I forbid you to use such vulgar language! There are more elegant ways of proving your superiority."

At the outraged look on Jason's face, Bruce swiftly moved to intercept, standing in front of the boys with a hand set on Jason's head and the other on Dick's shoulder. "I apologize, Mrs. Fitzhugh. And Jason, she's right. There are more elegant ways to prove your superiority."

Now Mrs. Fitzhugh was the one looking outraged, and Jason laughed. Dick, having no idea what they were talking about, picked up a chunk of sushi with his bare hands and ate it.

"George, I'll see you around," Bruce said, nodding. "Nice to run into you again."

"Er...yes, good to see you," George said awkwardly, and herded his family away. Bruce could still hear Mrs. Fitzhugh complaining about them halfway across the restaurant.

He turned to his kids and exhaled. "Sorry, Jay. I know what wasn't pleasant."

"They acted like we were trash."

"People get like that sometimes. I'm sorry. You are precious to me, Jason, you and Dick both."

Jason, disarmed, shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks pink.

"I love you, Dad," Dick signed. Bruce smiled and responded in kind.

The car arrived soon afterward, driven by Thomas himself, since Alfred was still getting the house ready and all the other servants had, as usual, been sent off on holiday for the duration of the visit. Father and son greeted each other with a handshake and man hug, then Thomas smiled at the boys and ruffled Dick's hair.

"Grandpa!"

"Good to see you again, Dickie. And this is Jason, I presume?"

"That's right," Bruce said proudly, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders. Jason, staring wide-eyed at Thomas, ducked back under Bruce's arm to hide behind him. "Jay, come on, say hi to my father."

"Hi," Jason mumbled.

"Sometimes he gets shy," Bruce said apologetically, and winced when Jason pinched him.

He and Thomas bundled the boys into the car, where Dick chattered at his grandfather in the front seat and Jason stuck close to Bruce in the back. "Jay, I promise he won't bite you."

"Why did he know my name?" Jason growled. "Did you tell him about me?!"

"I call my parents several times a week, Jason. Of course I told them about you."

"About me, or ABOUT me?"

Bruce turned and took the boy by the shoulders so he could look straight into his eyes. "Jason, you are safe," he said firmly. "I will not let anyone hurt you."

"Hmph," Jason muttered, looking unconvinced.

"Daaaad," Dick whined, kicking his tail, "I want to swim."

"Soon, Dickie. Sort of. It's a long ride, but we're headed straight there." He dug a bottle of oily solution out of his bag so that Dick could add more to his sleeve. "Hang in there, chum."

While they were in the city, Jason gazed out the window, conflicted emotions on his face as he looked at familiar scenery from such an unfamiliar perspective. Both boys fell asleep in the suburbs, and did not awaken until the car was pulling into place in front of the manor and Bruce started gently shaking them. "Boys, we're here."

Alfred was already approaching, pulling out the wheelchair when Thomas popped the trunk. "It's good to see you, Master Bruce," he greeted as he passed.

"You too, Alfred."

"Uncle Alfred!" Dick called excitedly, and the butler's face softened.

"Hello, Master Richard." He nodded solemnly to Jason. "Young sir."

"This is Jason," Bruce explained, realizing that the younger boy was frozen again, staring. "He's the selkie I told you about."

"What the fuck, Bruce?!" Jason hissed, scrambling back in a panic.

"Alfred's safe, Jay," Bruce assured him. "So are my parents. They've known about Dick for ages, remember? It's still a secret from the rest of the household, though, which is why we sent them away for a while."

They'd barely gotten Dick settled in his wheelchair when Martha Wayne came flying down the manor's front steps. "My boys, oh, my boys! Bruce, Dickie, come here, my loves; ohhhh, and here's the new little one, how wonderful, Bruce!"

"And this is my mother, Martha," Bruce introduced with a smile. "Mother, this is Jason. He was actually born and raised in Gotham."

Jason swallowed hard and held out a slightly trembling hand to shake.

"Pleased to meet you, darling," Martha said warmly, returning the gesture as Thomas came up beside her.

"I'm born 'n' raised Park Row," Jason suddenly blurted, his Bowery accent thick. "Dad's a thief who died 'n jail, Mom OD'd, I stole 'n' sold half Bruce's fancy stuff first week I's in 'is fancy beach house, betcha real proud t' have a filthy street rat 'n yer lov'ly home here!"

"You didn't sell anything," Bruce said, fumbling for something to say after Jason's inexplicable outburst. "There was no one there to sell it to."

"I ain't showered in three days," Jason plunged on. (Bruce had no idea what he was talking about; he and Jason had both showered on the yacht that morning.) "Was pickin' m' nose in th' car jus' now, hope ya don' min', B-man; dropped outta school 'n third grade 'n'-"

"I'm sure you'll appreciate the hospitality here, Master Jason," Alfred cut in smoothly.

"Master-?!"

"Right," Bruce said loudly, wanting to cut off any further attempts by Jason to...what, disgust the Waynes? Why?

"I'm tired," Dick announced.

"We've got the pools all ready for you, honey," Martha cooed, putting an arm around Dick's shoulders as he started wheeling his chair toward the elegant accessibility ramp that had been added soon after his first visit to the manor. "I'm so glad we converted them to saltwater! It's nicer for you and I've found I quite like it myself."

Back at the car, Thomas said, looking amiably confused, "Please to have you here, Jason." He nodded at Bruce and Alfred and said, "I'll be waiting inside," before heading up the stairs.

Bruce, who had an arm around Jason, gently tugged him away from the car. The boy jumped like a spooked deer when Alfred, who'd finished moving the luggage inside, silently approached and got into the driver's seat, preparing to move the car to the garage.

"Are you all right, Jay?" Bruce murmured as he ushered the boy up the stairs.

Jason looked a little dazed and didn't answer. As soon as they set foot in the front hall, Jason stopped dead and stared around at the elegant foyer in what looked a little like horror. Then he dove into the hall closet and slammed the door behind him.

"...He's not usually like this," Bruce apologized to Thomas, then went into the coat closet after his crazy kid.

"How the fuck long is this thing?!" Jason yelled, halfway down and still going.

"It's designed to be able to accommodate guests for balls and such. Jay, what are you doing?" Bruce asked, struggling after him and trying not to trip over boxes of neatly stored shoes.

"Why'd you bring me here, Bruce?! Rub me in yer parents' noses?! You hate 'em or somethin'?! Or maybe you hate me, trying to show off-! Ow!" He'd finally found the back wall.

"Jaylad," Bruce said in exasperation, "please come here."

"No! I want a hotel! A NORMAL hotel, not some fancy-ass-!" Jason burst into tears, sinking into a huddled crouch and burying his face in his knees. "What the hell am I doing here?" he sobbed.

"Jay..." Bruce sat down by the wall and pulled Jason into his arms. Once the boy had finished crying, he asked hopefully, "Better?"

"I want to go home," Jason said miserably.

"Jay, we're here for you. Don't you want to find your mother?"

"Bitch didn't want me, she hates me! I want to go stay in the ocean forever!"

Bruce thunked his head back against the wall. He had thought himself an experienced parent, but nothing he'd learned from raising Dick had prepared him for this. "Jason, we will go home in a few days if you want. But I want to visit with my parents for a while because I love them and don't see them often at all, and we need to get your documents. Please endure it for just a few days."

"Then I'll stay in here. Put some books and sandwiches and water bottles through the door every morning, and a poop bucket, and call me when it's time to go home."

"Jay, you haven't even seen the house yet. How do you know you'll hate it if you don't even know what it's like?"

"I don't hate the house!" Jason hissed. "The house hates me!"

"Jay, it's a building. It's inanimate."

"You know what I mean!"

"Kiddo, I truly, honestly don't."

Jason was silent for a while, face hidden in Bruce's shirt. Finally he said in a small voice, "People like me don't come to houses like this except to rob them."

"Jason, I think of you as my son. This is my house, therefore it's your house, too."

Jason's shoulders hunched even more. "I made such an idiot of myself, your parents think I'm trash, and they're right..."

"You are not trash. They might think you're a little strange - I think you're being a bit strange right now - but just be yourself and they'll get used to you. They care about you very much already, just like they did Dick before they met him."

"...I don't know how to act right...!"

"Just act like you do at the beach house. All right? Just be normal."

Jason finally, slowly, took his face out of Bruce's chest. "C'n you check and see if the coast is clear?" he mumbled.

"All right." Bruce went to look, and found Alfred patiently waiting in the hall. He signed urgently until the butler bowed and left. Bruce turned back to his kid, who was now dwarfed by a coat he'd pulled off a hanger and wrapped around himself. "All clear, Jason. Let's go."

Jason seemed subdued but mostly okay when Bruce showed him to a guest room. He had to be heavily coaxed out of his room to eat (they were taking dinner outside by the pool that night), and as soon as he saw the Waynes, he pulled the coat up over his head, hiding himself from sight.

"I think he's overwhelmed," Bruce said apologetically.

"Aww, too overwhelmed to eat?" Martha crooned.

Bruce smiled. "I doubt it. This boy always has an appetite."

Jason tried to duck under the table at first, but when Bruce ordered him out, he dragged his chair back and hid behind Bruce. He flinched and hid in the coat every time Alfred came near and didn't say a word to the other diners for a long time, though he did whisper-moan about how good the food was when he started taking bites out of it.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said when the butler came up with another serving.

"Thank you," Jason's muffled voice echoed from the coat-lump.

"You're welcome, Master Jason," Alfred made a point to say, and the coat-lump shrank a bit.

Dick and Martha were the ones who talked the most during the meal, chattering away about what they'd each been up to. As soon as Dick finished eating, he ripped off his sleeve and dove sideways into the pool. Martha went to change into a swimsuit so she could join him, and Thomas wasn't far behind.

The three of them had been happily swimming and splashing for a while when Martha noticed the other boys. Bruce was sitting on a deck chair, splitting his attention between the pool and his phone. The coat-lump was pooled on the chair beside him, Jason's eyes peeking out of the heavy fabric to longingly watch the antics in the water, one hand absently petting Ace (who had calmed down over the years and was now sleepily curled up with Jason on the chair).

"Jason, honey, come join us!" Martha called.

The eyes disappeared deeper into the coat.

"Oh, sweet little Jay, I would love for you to come play with us!"

Jason reluctantly emerged enough to mumble, "I don't have a swimsuit. I'm dirty."

"You know what, chum," Thomas said, coming up beside his wife and leaning on the edge of the pool, "there are actually showers and extra swimsuits in all sizes just through those glass doors there. Bruce or Alfred can show you."

Jason regarded them for a long moment. Dick, by now at the edge of the pool with his grandparents, laid his head on his crossed arms and gazed at Jason with puppy eyes.

"Come on, Jay," Bruce murmured, standing up. He set his hand on Jason's back and exerted gentle pressure until the boy finally climbed to his feet and shuffled toward the house.

Bruce showed him around the large washroom by the indoor pool. Jason rinsed off and changed into a swimsuit, and Bruce found water shoes for him when he refused to leave the washroom with bare feet. He hunched into his hoodie when Bruce accompanied him back outside.

"Hey, handsome boy, you ready now?" Martha called.

Jason shrugged his shoulders. Then Dick burst out of the water, smacked him with a foam noodle, and laughed loudly as he sank back into the water.

"Oh that's it!" Jason hollered, plunging into the pool after grabbing some noodles of his own.

The boys chased each other around for a while and Bruce was relieved to see his youngest acting like a normal kid again. Jason got agitated and shy whenever the older Waynes spoke to him, but then Dick sneaked up behind him and shoved his hoodie down over his head. The seal zipped over to the far side of the pool and huddled there.

"Oh he's so CUTE!" Martha shrieked. "Oh, come here, sweet baby! Come here, I promise I won't hurt you. Ohhhh, please, little one, please!"

Bruce was the one who retrieved the animal, but as he was carrying him back to his parents, Jason suddenly squirmed, throwing back his hood and then scrambling to hide behind Bruce.

"Here you go, chum," Thomas said, picking the swimsuit out of the water and handing it to Bruce.

"Mother's not looking," Bruce reassured his son. "Father and Alfred have turned around, too. No one can see you, Jay."

Jason tugged the shorts back on underwater and then hauled himself over Bruce's shoulder to start cussing out Dick.

"But Jaaaayyy, seal-you is cuter! Grandma likes cute things!"

"DON'T TOUCH MY HOODIE, DICKHEAD!"

Things eventually calmed down. The sky grew darker and the stars came out, the pool illuminated by lights both underwater and on the walls. Jason eventually started swimming around as a seal again. He stayed out of arm's reach of all the humans but Bruce and vengefully nipped at Dick's fingers, but he did allow Alfred to photograph him cuddled in Bruce's arms.

When Jason realized that Dick was going to sleep in the indoor pool that night and Bruce was going to sleep on a cot at the poolside, he had second thoughts about retreating to his guest room. Alfred willingly set up a second cot so that the little family could stay together. Bruce's parents bid them all good night, then the three youngest members of the Wayne family settled in to sleep.

TBC

Deleted scene because I didn't prepare enough before drafting this chapter:

Bruce's first road trip with both his sons was kind of fun. He taught car games to the boys, and Jason got a lot of reading done. The younger boy was fascinated by Dick's hoodie-and-wheelchair disguise, and helped earnestly whenever they stopped for a restroom or meal break.

Dick kept his complaining about the hotel bathtub that night to an obligatory minimum, having known what to expect, but Jason ranted about the cramped quarters and was the one who actually begged Bruce to let Dick 'stretch his tail' in the pool at two in the morning. He panicked even more than Bruce did when a trio of older teenagers came out to swim in the dead of night, and also when he and Bruce were struggling to get Dick safely out of the pool and into his wheelchair while the mer was cheerfully yelling a conversation back and forth with the teens.

"We're trying to avoid attention, you idiot, not announce to the world that we've got a frickin' mermaid!" Jason hissed, piling towels over Dick's lower half as Bruce crouched to shield the mer's tail from sight.

"You guys are acting weirder than I am," Dick pouted.