Nobody spoke for a long minute after Bruce and Alfred had both entered and the door had been shut behind them. "…Okay, guys," Dick broke the silence finally. "I hate to cut this short, but by my count you've got about ninety seconds to figure out whatever you need to figure out in order to function within the same square mile of each other today. Otherwise we're not going to have time to get Jason into his suit and be downstairs on schedule."

"The schedule is already off, I'm afraid, Master Dick," Alfred replied quietly. "Miss Barbara ran into a small problem and requested a five minute delay."

"Is she all right?" he asked quickly.

"I believe so, yes. I heard nothing to the contrary."

"She wouldn't say anything if she wasn't," he fretted.

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "…What do you know that we don't?" he asked, reading his son with ease.

There was a heavy sigh. "Well…I'm not supposed to tell anyone this, so you'd all still better look completely shocked when it happens. If it happens," he added. "The only people in on it are Jim, Babs' bridesmaids, and me, but…she had a bit of a breakthrough in therapy a couple of months ago, and it gave her this crazy idea, but I couldn't say no, I mean how could I say no, and…anyway, she's determined to walk down that aisle today."

"No way," Wally and Tim said at the same time, their mouths dropping open. Bruce and Alfred appeared surprised, but pleased. Damian just looked mildly impressed. Jason turned away completely. Oh, god. He knew that, he knew it when I said what I said about her. He knew what she was working on, and he didn't say anything. 'Too weak to even walk down the fucking aisle under her own power…' Why did I say that? Why do I say half the shit I do? He has every right to hate me right now, but he doesn't. Son of a bitch. I can't be here. I can't watch that. Fuck. I'm…I'm sorry, Dick. No. I can't do this. He took two steps towards the balcony. If I go now, while they're all still recovering from that little bomb, they won't even notice.

"Jason."

He forced himself to stop, overriding something in the back of his brain that was pushing for him to just keep walking. Don't. Don't try to talk me out of this. It won't work. I can't… "What?" He'd intended for it to come out harshly, but the word ended up simply sounding lost.

This is either going to be the completely right or completely wrong thing to say, Dick knew. "…Where are you going? You're not a coward, little brother, you never have been, so why do you let old mistakes back you into corners when you could vanquish them so easily?" Don't run. Stop. Come back. Try again. I forgive you.

"Because we don't all have your Gandhi-level powers of forgiveness," he managed. "And because maybe I don't want to forgive certain things. I didn't come here to forgive anyone. I came because you asked me to. And it was a mistake, obviously. I should have known you'd use this to set up one of your 'let's all get along' interventions." A hand on his shoulder, no longer gentle, ripped him around. Had he been pulled into a hug, he would have fought; staring into Dick's uncharacteristically cold eyes, however, he froze just long enough to listen to his words.

"You know what, Jay? You're wrong. This isn't about you. This is about me. Normally, you'd be right; I'd want us to all sit down and have a big teary chat about all the shit we've put each other through over the years, intentional or not. Normally. But seeing as how everyone's been telling me for months and months on end now that today is about what Babs and I want, I've decided to take advantage of that. I put the people I care the most about in the world through misery, not because I expected anyone to make amends, but just because I wanted you to be here.

"And that group includes you, you know; I'm aware that this isn't a walk in the park. Today, though, I've decided to be selfish. As a result, right now, at this very moment, I don't care if you never speak to anyone in this room again. I don't care if you never forgive anything for the rest of your life. What I do care about is whether or not you can push away enough of the garbage you've let build up over the past few years to be the good person I know you are underneath, if only for a few hours.

"I've forgiven everything you've done and said, Jason. All of it. I want you to know that. But if you walk out that door right now without even trying…I don't know if I'll be able to ever fully forgive you for that. I will believe until the day I die that someday you'll find the strength to deal with your demons, but the wound you'll be giving me if you walk away at this juncture will never completely heal. I say that not as a threat, or to guilt you, but just so you know. I don't want you to make this decision blind." He released him, stepping back and crossing his arms to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. "So, you know. The ball's in your court." Please stay. Don't make me eat those words. Of course I'd forgive you. But it would hurt so bad, Jay.

"…It's also in mine," Bruce said softly, stepping forward. His fingers squeezed his eldest's shoulder as he drew up beside him, then gently pushed him back towards where Alfred was covertly dabbing at his eyes. This isn't your fight, chum. It never was. I appreciate how much effort you've put into it despite that, and I hate that you've more or less made yourself the battleground on which today's fight has been drawn up, but this comes down to him and I. I'm going to try my damnedest not to screw it up, for you. And for Jason. "I'll keep it short," he addressed his second son. "When Dick told me he wanted to invite you, Jason, I never thought you would show up. I hoped you would, and I'm glad you did, but I never truly believed it would happen. Now, though…tell me what you need me to do or say to convince you to stay today," he said sincerely. "And I'll try to do it, if it's within reason." Don't go. Don't hurt him like that. Please.

He's only being this nice about it because he wants golden boy's day to be perfect, part of him protested. "What's reasonable?" Jason asked slowly, ignoring the voice. Try. Just…try.

"I won't know until you suggest something."

…Shit. I…I don't know. He didn't particularly care what Bruce wanted, but Dick's soliloquy had bowled him over, driving home just how much distress he'd caused his brother since his return to life. I was never really mad at you, he thought. I mean, sure, I was angry that you defended Bruce, but…I also know that you understand why I still can't forgive him. It doesn't keep you from trying to get me past it, of course, because fixing broken things is just your nature, but at least you get it. The problem is that it works both ways; you understand Bruce's side of it, too. You're the only one who still truly believes in me, Dick, the only one who hasn't given up on me, and I…I don't want to lose that. No; I don't want to destroy that. It might be the last thing truly keeping me from going past the point of no return.

"Fine," he spat. "We don't talk, you and me. Nobody tries to act like everything's peaches and cream," he cast a glance around the room, including everyone in the deal, "because it isn't. And when I decide to leave, no one tries to stop me. We also agree that I have a right to defend myself if I'm slandered or attacked, whether it's by one of you or someone else."

Attacked? Who do you think would attack you at your brother's wedding? Jesus, Jason, I know you're mad at me, but no one here is your enemy. Not out of costume, at least. "…I agree, dependent on one thing."

"That being?"

"You won't leave obviously. No stomping off in the middle of the ceremony. If you choose to go early, you'll do it unobtrusively."

He pursed his lips. "You agree to the other stuff?"

"Yes." It hurt that Jason didn't want to speak with him at all, but it wasn't exactly a new pain. Considering what the young man in front of him might have asked for, it was a small price to pay. "I agree."

"…Then I do, too."

A collective sigh went through the room. "…So," Dick breathed finally, "Jay, you've got to get changed." Crossing to the closet, he pulled out a suit bag and a pair of shoes. "Bathroom's all yours," he said, handing them over.

"I…yeah. Be, ah…be right out." I'm doing this. I'm actually doing this. Holy fuck. I have lost my goddamn mind…

"Master Jason, do you remember how-"

"He's got it, Alfred," Dick assured the butler, sensing that what Jason really needed was a few minutes alone to come to terms with what had just occurred. He and Bruce just had a civilized conversation, he thought giddily. It certainly wasn't an affectionate one, but they reached an accord without raising voices or drawing blood. "Wally's tie could probably use a little TLC, though. We let Damian have a go at it."

"Oh, for heaven's sake…"

The atmosphere was tense as they waited. No one spoke, although Tim moved over to stand close beside Dick, drawing silent comfort as they carried on a wordless conversation.

Timmy, the groom's eyes inquired. …Still okay?

I'll manage, he shrugged. What he'd just watched occur between Jason and Bruce had made him wonder, just slightly, if he should have been giving more credence all along to what Dick thought about the second Robin. …But you aren't selfish, his forehead creased. Never that. Just mildly insane.

It worked, though, didn't it? Dick arched an eyebrow with a happy sparkle in his gaze.

Don't ask me how, Bruce's lips quirked an interjection from halfway across the room.

…Is it wrong of me to think it can't last? the youngest of the three asked with a guilty look. Surely Jason couldn't keep it up for long. He'd snap, and the horribly hurt look Dick only ever seemed to wear as a result of the dead-not dead bird would come back again. He quailed at the thought; nothing made him feel as low as seeing his elder brother miserable.

I hope you're wrong, the billionaire glanced away. …Dick? I really do, you know. I want him to stay. But I don't think he will.

It's typical for you two to think that, he smirked sadly. But I've got enough optimism for all three of us. Either way, he finished hurriedly as the bathroom door opened, let's just enjoy it while it lasts. "…How did I do on the measurements?" he queried.

"Creepily well," Jason answered, stepping out. They were talking about me, he realized. A swell of anger rose, then receded as he decided it didn't matter. Of course they were talking about me. Think about what just happened, you jackass. How could they not talk? "The pants are a little long and the sleeves are a little short, but I don't think it's too noticeable."

"Looks fine to me," the elder Robin opined. "…Alfred? What do you think?"

"Hmm…" He hustled around the bed to look. "It's passably close. I don't believe anyone will detect the slight difference."

"They're all going to be too busy looking at Babs, anyway," Dick nodded. "…Who is probably starting to wonder what's taking so long." God, I hope she's not standing while she waits. For all that she'd made huge progress in the last few months, she still had a long way to go towards getting anywhere near her old strength back in her legs. I'm probably going to be holding her up at the altar, he realized. But that's okay. She'll still be on her feet. I'll hold her up all day if she wants.

"Never mind the audience," Tim threw in.

"Weddings always start late," Wally shrugged, patting his pockets to make certain he had the ring. "Mine took an extra half hour to get rolling. People are used to it."

They all looked around at each other for a second, only Damian seeming slightly annoyed by the continued delay. "…Are we ready?" Dick asked.

"I think are you ready is the more important question," Bruce said.

"Me?" he grinned suddenly. "I've got a full complement of groomsmen at my side and a gorgeous woman waiting for me downstairs. Toss me a mask, and I'll be ready for anything. Barring that, though," he opened the door, "bring on the wedding."

Author's Note: Next up; wedding time! Also, a big thanks to AJCrane for reading through this chapter ahead of time and soothing my fears about characterization. :D Happy reading!