Yaaaay! An update! (I own nothing except the OC's, btw. And, technically, I only half-own Jason now... *evil laugh* you'll see)

Bruce sighed through his nose as he walked through the cemetery, white tendrils coming out of his mouth. He shoved his hands in his coat, shaking his head as he felt weariness overtake him, weariness he felt was far beyond his years. He hadn't felt like this since his parents' deaths.

His mind flashed back to Richard. He remembered seeing the boy, his son, standing there and watching him, eyes wide with anger and grief and fear, blood dripping down his face.

Bruce felt like decking himself, if he could.

Instead, he settled for the church.

Bruce hadn't been to a church in years, but he could remember going to Sunday services with his parents. They had been very 'religious' and talked about God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit often. Bruce knew the basic stories, Daniel in the Lions' Den, David and Goliath, and Jonah and the Big Fish had all been some of his favorites. He had done the silly little pipe-cleaner crafts with beads and popsicle sticks, sticking them to the fridge. Alfred even attended with them on holidays. Bruce suspected that Alfred was even more 'religious' than his dad was.

The man entered the church cautiously, all of his defenses up as if Joker was going to jump out in front of him. Soft candles were lit at the front alter, to Bruce's surprise. He saw a man his own age, early to mid thirties, in a casual suit and loafers walking around, reading from a Bible and whispering the verses to himself softly. A young woman was at the alter, crying, with what looked to be her husband beside her. Bruce felt uneasy in the suffocating atmosphere and considered leaving, but the young pastor saw him first and held out a welcoming hand.

"Hello, sir. I'm Matt Cain, co-pastor of Gotham First. Can I be of service to you?"

Despite the answering-machine greeting, Bruce felt sincerity behind the young man's tone. His soft smile aided the friendly greeting, too. "Nice to meet you," Bruce spoke in his deep, ominous voice. "I'm Bruce Wayne."

If Matt had recognized his name, which he obviously should have, he didn't react. He treated Bruce normally. "May I help you with anything, Bruce?"

Bruce swallowed and was just about to shake his head, but he paused. His face was growing hot, and he whispered softly to the man, "How am I redeemed?"

Matt sighed, smiling. "Redemption, Bruce, is not something any of us can reach. It's impossible."

Anger grew in Bruce's stomach, and he bit back a growl. "You're saying it's unattainable?"

Matt nodded again, moving over to grab a mug of coffee from one of the pews. "Would you like some? I have a pot in-"

"How is that possible? I can't be forgiven?"

The woman and her husband had left, leaving Matt and Bruce alone. Matt shook his head. "You can be, Bruce."

"You just said-"

"I know what I said. It isn't possible for us to save ourselves, but God can save us."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I already said that prayer- and I do think he exists, but..."

"You doubt. Something's happened to make you doubt. What's wrong? What drove you to come here tonight, Bruce?"

Emotion overwhelmed the Dark Knight, and he couldn't believe he was actually trusting this man, but there was something... something about him. "I've... gotten in an argument with my son, and it's hurting my other kids."

Matt nodded, sitting down on a pew. He patted the seat, but Bruce only glared at the spot. Another sigh. "Bruce, you can only ask for forgiveness. From God first, then from your family. But, you need to be able to forgive yourself."

That's never gonna happen.

"Thanks, Matt. Goodbye."

With that, Bruce stalked out the doors. Matt was only just able to call after him, "I hope to see you soon," before the doors to the church slammed shut.

Bruce tried to deny the small feeling of healing growing in his chest.

…

Richard growled to himself as he tried to get past the Pentagon's third wall of defense. He estimated he was about an eighth of a way through, and he had been at it for almost three hours. It was nearing five AM, about time that he and Blaine would be sparring. But, she was still asleep. Roy had fallen quickly too, snoring noisily as his chest rose and fell. It made Richard smirk and want to laugh.

Terrence looked over at him, having heart the stifled snort. He grinned, chocolate lips clashing with white teeth. "You snore louder."

"Jerk."

"Truth!"

"Shud'dup..." Richard couldn't help but grin back.

There was silence as Terrence turned back to Little House on the Prairie. Then, he spoke. "Dick, I understand if you're upset-"

"I'm not mad at Bruce. Not anymore."

"Jason?"

"No," the boy snorted, shaking his head. "That's the thing. Shouldn't I be?"

Terrence shrugged, eyes not leaving the TV. "Dunno. Maybe you should talk to Wally."

Richard's eyes grew wide, and a snarl formed on his lips. "Did his dad-"

"I'm not sayin' nothin'. Ask him yourself."

In a moment, the acrobat had flipped himself backwards over the couch and was charging towards Roy's old room. Terrence called after him, "Don't whip my favorite little ginger too bad!"

"SHUT UP!"

Blaine shook away. "Whaa...?"

"Go back to dreaming about Kaldur in a hot tub."

Half-asleep, the girl murmured, "M'kay..." and fell back asleep.

Terrence laughed.

Back in the archer's old room, Richard was furiously calling up his friend on Skype. The computer monitor (an old model, slow, which annoyed the crap out of the techie) showed his own face in a small blip and had a larger screen where Wally would soon show up.

Sure enough, only moments later, the speedster was up. His face was red on one side from sleeping on it, his hair disheveled, shirtless. Richard couldn't see, but he suspected his best friend was wearing Flash boxers.

The speedster was mumbling his words, slipping over his tongue. "Duuuuuuude... It's l-like the crack a' daaaaaa*yawn*aaaawn... Whaz wrong?"

Richard only glared, the Robin-Glare at its full force.

That woke Wally up a bit. "Dude! What's wrong?"

"Your dad, Wally. I know he hurt you."

Wally's whole face went an even shade of scarlet as he stammered. "I- I don't-"

"Don't B.S. me, Wally. I'm telling Barry-"

"No!"

Richard sat back in his chair, arms crossed. "Why not?"

Wally's eyes grew with tears, and he looked at his hands in his lap. "I... He's my dad, Dick... What if someone tried to take you away from Bruce? Huh?"

Pain instantly struck Richard's heart. Rudolph was abusive, yes, but he loved Wally. He showed up to all of the teenager's science meets and Chemistry competitions, and was even a part of the Science Department's Booster Club. He was an all-star parent, he just didn't know what to do with that pent-up anger... So he took it out on his son. Richard had only heard of Wally's dad hurting him twice before, but he knew it had to happen more. Only, with speedster-quick healing, the bruises and cuts faded quickly, and he hadn't seen any scars. Ever. It was a hard to accuse without evidence.

"You're telling Barry."

"Dick-"

"Wally. You need to tell him." Pain grew in those sapphire eyes, and Wally flinched. "Please, Walls. You're my best friend and... it hurts me when you get hurt. Please, help yourself... Please, Wally."

There was silence between the two for several moments.

"Not now."

Richard smiled as he recognized the giving-in tone. "Soon."

"Soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Dude."

"Alright. G'night, Walls."

"G'night, Dick."

…

Barbara shivered and pulled her fleece nightgown tighter around her. This had been a first. Bruce never hit any of his kids, outside of training. Not the incident with Richard, though. That had been an accident. She wasn't worried about that too much. She was worried about Jason. About her big brother. Back when she had just first been taken in by Bruce, when she was a little girl and her dad had died, she had latched onto Jason for support. A certain memory flowed back to Barbara...

She had only been staying at the Manor for a few weeks, and the nightmares had been going on strong. Bruce tried to comfort her, but he was awkward around Barbara, being that she was a girl. Alfred was the biggest help, especially with Daphne coming around every once and a while to play with Barbara and Jason. One night, though, Barbara had woken up screaming. Alfred was off in England visiting old friends, and Bruce was off who-knows-where (patrolling). Barbara had climbed out of bed and went down to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate...

The sweet smell hit her nose before she even heard the tinkling of china. Cocking an eyebrow, Barbara rubbed her arms and turned the corner to see Jason sitting on the counter tops, eating a s'more and drinking hot cocoa. Brilliant blue eyes flashed up to her, and Jason gave a crooked smile. "Hi."

To be perfectly honest, Barbara didn't like Jason all too much. He could be stony and rude, but was warm at other times... Quite like Bruce, in her opinion. He was a difficult card to read.

"Hi..." she whispered back.

There was an odd silence before Jason held out his mug and said, "Cocoa?"

The girl paused, but nodded. Jason's smile broadened a bit as he hopped off the counter and went over to fetch her some hot chocolate. "Y'want marshmallows?"

"Yes, please."

"How many?"

"A handful!"

Jason gave Barbara an odd glance at the 10-year-old's exclamation, and Barbara slapped a hand over her lips. She tried not to giggle as he chuckled, shoulders shaking slightly. "How about two handfuls?"

She nodded fiercely. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Barb."

"Barb?"

He shrugged, handing her the steaming mug. "Nick-name. What, you've never had one before?"

She shook her head 'no'.

"Well, y'do now."

Barbara bit her lip, eyes filling with tears.

She sat down on her bed and wept, violent tears splashing onto her lap as she let out sobs, trying to be quiet. Not that Alfred was asleep.

If she knew Jason, she knew he wouldn't be coming back for a long, long while.

Barbara continued to pack.

…

Oliver knew in a moment that Bruce wouldn't be at the mansion. The Dark Knight would have wanted to let off some steam, and with the sun rising, there would be no better place to relax than at a grassy area. Perhaps a park, but Oliver knew that would be too much of a public place for Bruce. He didn't know of any grassy knolls in the industrialized Gotham, nor did he figure there were any magical forests around. Though there might be a magic wardrobe in Wayne Manor... You never know when you're a superhero.

That only left one sane solution.

The graveyard.

Oliver pulled his car into park, taking in a deep breath. He brushed two fingers on either side of his mustache before getting out of the car.

He instantly saw Bruce standing over a set of small headstones.

Grabbing another coat from his trunk, as Bruce seemed to be shaking in the after-rain atmosphere, Oliver made his way over.

"Queen." He was greeted brusquely even at two yards away.

"Bruce."

There was a pause.

"Want a coat?"

Bruce said or did nothing, making the archer walk forward. He put the coat on his friend's shoulders, still getting no reaction. The duo just stood there for several minutes. Oliver took in his surroundings. The sun was rising, but its warmth didn't reach the earth. Gotham would have another snow night, then rain the next, then snow, then rain, then snow, then rain. It was going to be a never-ending cycle until spring-

"What did I do, Queen?"

Oliver let out a breath, flapping his lips like a horse. "Well, you got into a fight with your oldest son and ended up hitting your youngest son. You screwed up, badly."

Bruce snorted and growled at the same time. "I know-" He stopped himself, breathing in slowly, meditating. "I know," he spoke, eyes closed. "I came to Dick's parents graves to apologize."

Oliver now noticed the scrawl on the tombstones, reading 'Mary Grayson' on one and 'John Grayson' on the other.

"Well, you did good. Now, go do good again."

Bruce cocked an eyebrow at his teammate. Oliver rolled his eyes. "Um, duh. You apologize to your kids. Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. I'm sure Dick'll cave quick, and so'll Terry. Blaine... Well, you'll have to work on her. Maybe a month, and she'll be back to normal." A sigh. "Bruce, there's really not much you can do than apologize and pray for forgiveness from 'em. Right?"

Bruce made a noise in his throat, turning towards the graves again. "Oddly wise, Queen."

"Quit trying to distance yourself, Mr. I've-got-a-batarang-up-my-a-"

"Thank you, Ollie."

Oliver bristled. "Well, um, yeah I just- uh... good, well, thanks- I mean, you're welcome and uh... Dang, can I get that on my cellphone? Just say it one more time-"

"Shut up... Queen..."

"I love you, too, Brucie boy. Now, let's get your kids outta my house. I need a bachelor pad again."

…

Richard sat back as he watched the computer screen go blank. He didn't know what to do about Wally, about Bruce, about Jason-

Jason. His big brother. Where had he gone? Was he still at the Manor? Surely not... But where would he go?

Tears built up in the ebony's eyes, and he wiped them away quickly. One of his first-ever memories of his biggest brother came back to him...

Dick looked into the mirror, smiling. From the neck, down, with his criss-crossed purple tie, white dress shirt, black suit jacket, gray slacks (that fit almost perfectly, coming just under his heels), and his brown dress-shoes, Dick looked very professional. But his messy black hair ruined the professional image with an angelic child innocence. Jason patted the boy's shoulder. "Like it?"

Dick nodded, and Jason laughed. Then, his face grew very serious. "I actually think it's missing something..."

Dick frowned. What could he possibly be missing?

From behind his back, Jason produced a very small, gray, pin-striped fedora with a deep black ribbon coming around the base. Dick grinned as it fell over his eyes. Jason laughed again, a not-too-deep laugh that was filled with happiness and made Dick feel warm and fuzzy inside, like his head was filled with Sprite. "You'll grow into it!" Jason said, bending the hat back on Dick's head.

He had grown into it. Actually, it was too small for him now. He had considered giving it to a little boy he met at the park, just randomly. The kid was cute, named Tim or something like that. But he had decided to keep it instead, choosing to relish in the memories.

Now, he wasn't so sure he wanted to remember. He was just so confused...

A knock came on the closed door, and Richard swirled around in his chair, expecting Roy.

He was greeted with a tall, broad-shouldered man in two coats, sandals, and pajama pants.

"Bruce?"

"Dick, I'm here to say I'm so, so sorry... I shouldn't have been fighting with Jason anyways. You don't have to forgive me. You can stay with Oliver for a while if you want, he's already offered. And Roy is still pissed. Blaine's crying, Terry's nothing really, and-"

In an instant, Richard was embracing his father tightly.

"Te iubesc, Taticul."

Bruce eagerly returned the hug. "Te iubesc, micuta pasarea. Te iubesc..."

…

Jason smiled flirtatiously at the clerk behind the counter, a maybe seventeen-year-old girl with black hair and red highlights, several piercings in her face at random places.

"Thanks, babe." He handed her a ten. "Keep the change."

In a new black leather jacket, biker gloves, and dark blue-jeans with brown combat books, Jason put on his favorite aviators after winking at a gaggle of high-school girls. They all erupted into giggles as he mounted a blood-red motorcycle with a paper license. "Bye, Gotham, hello Bludhaven," he growled to himself, putting the hair dye, cigarettes, and lighter he had purchased into his jacket pocket. He pulled on his red biker helmet, the screen over his eyes dyed black.

He revved off into the street, earning several honks from angry men and several whistles from younger girls. Laughing widely, Jason couldn't remember the last time he had felt this... free. This open and not tied-down by Galas and banquets, ties and suits, the press and duties...

By little siblings and a dad who didn't love him.

Jason bit back a growl as he sped up, reaching the train station at record time. He considered it odd that no cops had tried to tail him. "Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth," he reminded himself as he parked the stolen bike and jumped off, going towards the bathrooms. Yes, stolen. And he didn't regret it, which was the scary part... He wanted to keep it, but knew he had to dump it before the cops did get on his tail. Hence, the train.

Jason walked into the bathroom, taking off his helmet and checking under all the stalls. Good. No one's here.

Locking the door, the young man went over to the grimy, rusting sink and turned on the water. Even when he put it on hot, it came out ice cold. Shrugging, he pulled the bleach and red dye from his pockets. It took several minutes, but he knew it would help him hide.

Pausing in the mirror, Jason frowned. Something was missing...

With a grin, he re-bleached a section of his bangs to have a long, white strip. After a minor hair-cut with his Swiss, Jason emerged from the bathroom a new man. He lit a cigarette, coughing on the nicotine.

He walked up to the ticket booth, glad that the station wasn't too busy. A very old man with a long white beard was working the tickets. He blinked to focus old eyes on Jason, then smiled. "Hello, lad. Nice day to be out, isn't it? Where you be going?"

Irish? Eh... Whatever.

"The 'Haven."

The old man's emerald eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and he frowned. "Are you sure, sonnie? It's a dangerous place, it is. Even more than here."

Jason nodded, putting down a five. "One-way, please. I'm going to visit family, and I'll be flying to California afterward." The lie rolled off his tongue with ease.

The man nodded, arthritic hands grabbing out a ticket. "I'm Thomas O'Creary, by the way. You are?"

Jason swore inwardly. He hadn't thought of an alternate name. Suddenly, though, he remembered his mother's maiden name.

"I'm Jason. Jason Todd."

GASP! JASON TODD! OMG!

*** WHO ELSE LOVED THE EPISODE? I literally shrieked when the ginger baby touched Supey's emblem. I mean, AAAAUUUUGHH! Why can't you accept your son, Superman? NOOOOOOOO! CURSES UPON YOU AND YOUR BRETHREN! (besides Connor, I mean... XD)

Me and my BFF, Du'Varg (WHO btw, writes AMAZING YJ poems- go read!) decided that, no matter what, that ebony baby in Wally's arms was Tim. It was. DON'T RUIN MY FANDOM! STUPID BANANA-HATERS!

************* Next up is VALENTINES DAY! YAY! Then, after that, there should be a drabbl-y thingie. Then, a mission. ANY IDEAS FOR THE MISSION! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!

oh, and review if u love puppies. if you don't review, you hate puppies.

PUPPY HATERS!