Jason always slept restlessly. But tonight was so much worse. Tonight was memory night apparently, and god damn it, it wasn't the coffin ones. It was the ones where Jason was happy. He hated those, that sense of nostalgia, the possibilities of what could have been, the wasted time, everything.
Jason remembered the first time he put eyes on the batmobile, god it was a fantastic car. And hell, he knew he'd get top dollar for those wheels. Of course, Batman squashed that idea. Jason remembered laying eyes on the infamous dark knight too and thinking 'oh god I'm in deep shit'. Batman was so so big. Fuck, Bruce was still fucking big. Even though Jason was only an inch or two shorter, he still felt like a kid around the man. Guess people always tend to feel small around their parents…
Parents…Jason thought with an amused snort at the thought. He was such a freak that his first real parent was the Batman. And he meant parent, not just who donated sperm and who popped you out, but a real parent. The one that would make you feel safe with just their presence, who went to fucking bat for you even if you did wrong- Jason had flooded the school's bathroom once and Bruce (who probably knew he was guilty as fuck) still raised his hackles at the school's principle and defended Jason's honor and fake innocence. The one who asked 'how was your day?', even though it's the same monotonous thing every damn day, but just the question gives an open line that you need as a kid. The one who didn't rat you out to the butler when you stole cookies, didn't tire when it came to teaching you, and didn't ever completely turn his back on you even when you'd disappointed him so many…many times.
Fuck, stop. Jason pleaded to his mind. He didn't want to remember that moment that oh he fucking knew that he loved Bruce and that Bruce loved him and that he'd always be this man's baby. How Bruce's big hand felt as it pet his hair and the warmth of his smile. Jason didn't want to remember how Batman's eyes had shined and he looked almost high for a mili-second when Jason first called him 'dad'.
When he'd come back from being dead and Batman realized it was him- Jason didn't want to think that maybe that look that he couldn't decipher was maybe actually, not anger and disappointment as Jason suspected, but a mix of surprise and hope and happiness; because hey, his kid was actually alive and he could see him and talk to him and feel that he was breathing (even if they were trying to pound each other into the ground at that moment).
Even now, Jason didn't know what the fuck that look that Bruce got meant. Where his true blue eyes got almost soft, and his mouth did that weird straight-line thing like he was piecing together the mysteries of the universe in his head. He wished he knew what it meant. He wished he knew Bruce like he used too. Wished that Bruce didn't hesitate like he did now to squeeze Jason's shoulder or run a hand against the back of Jason's head in passing (both Batman for 'good job').
It just sucked that he and Bruce both had problems getting close, one of many traits they shared (not that Jason would ever admit that). Jason knew he was like the doors in the manor, sometimes open, sometimes shut, sometimes locked so damn tight that even he didn't know where the key was…like now.
But, Jason occasionally liked to believe that Bruce wanted to be close again, wanted to wrap Jason in hugs, talk about books, and have 'battles' over cookies like they had before. And, truthfully, Jason wanted to allow it. But…there's always a fucking 'but'…
If he was the big, sturdy door that stood between the outside world and the family, because really, he was always good at getting in someone's fucking way and at the very least slowing them down…then he was a closed door; with the family on one side and him on the other. He wanted to be an open door! Fuck. Stop! This has to stop.
Jason jolted awake, feeling the tears running across his face and his breath caught in his chest from the silent sobs. The Red Hood lay there all of five seconds before he couldn't take it anymore. He had to at least see Bruce, tonight, right now.
"Goddamnit!" Jason growled to himself as he threw on clothes, scolding himself mentally, because really this was just pathetic. He was worried about the Batman! Batman who everyone said was just fine, not even a broken bone, he just wouldn't wake up. Urgh…Jason groaned internally as he picked up his helmet, he'd die again before admitting that he really cared.
"And yet here I fucking am." Jason sneered at no one as he straddled his bike and headed for the manor.
He was pretty sure everyone was asleep as he went through the BatCave and slunk upstairs; nobody needed to know he was here. He pushed open Bruce's door just enough for him to slide through, carefully padding to the bed to look at his dad. The vigilante was peaceful, Jason getting tired again just looking at him. Fucking sleeping easy while I'm having dreams and shit. He glanced around, listening for anyone else, before sighing to himself as he made a decision. He pulled off his jacket and heeled off his boots, crawling onto the bed as quietly as possible. He remembered doing this too, of course he was smaller back then. It was awkward in some ways, but he figured that propriety had been damned for Bruce after he had adopted Dick and then everyone else-this bed wasn't just Bruce's, it was for all the kids.
"You need to get to waking the fuck up, old man, 'cause I'm getting tired of all this worrisome shit." He muttered to Bruce as he flopped down, head on the edge of B's pillow, "I have enough problems sleeping without dreams about you in there too."