Jason peeked around the door into Bruce's office, seeing what he expected- Bruce elbows deep in paperwork from Wayne enterprises, everything he'd missed while he was knocked out. Bitch-face…What Jason and Steph lovingly called that expression that both he and Tim got when they were dealing with the necessary evils of business.

Apparently his staring had drawn attention, as Bruce called, "Jason?" expectantly, though he didn't look up.

"Alfred told me to bring up your lunch." Jason said as he walked in, holding out two fancy sandwiches (only Alfred could make something as simple as a sandwich fancy) on a plate with a handful of chips.

"Thank you." Bruce gestured for Jason to set it on the edge of the desk that wasn't covered in paper.

"Yea, welcome…" Jason set down the food, ready to back out and be glad he'd gotten out of another interaction with Bruce unscathed; though they'd been getting along lately, Jason knew all it would take is one little fuse lit for it all to go to hell.

Before he could make his hasty retreat, Bruce had taken his wrist, tracing his vein as if feeling his pulse though the gesture felt…tender rather than medicinal, "I'm so glad you're alive, and that you're here." Bruce murmured, glancing up at Jason and offering that gentle Dad smile ™, "Love you, little wing." He patted Jason's hand and then looked back at his paperwork, as if he hadn't just said what he just did. As if he hadn't just…just!

Jason felt a knot in his chest, was choking back something that he swore was not a sob, "Wh-why would you just randomly say shit like that?!" He bit out, gritting his back teeth and also swearing that that was not tears clouding his vision.

Bruce's head snapped up, worry creasing his brows, "Jay?" Jason could only shake his head, worried that the not-sobs would escape. You can't just tell me you love me! I have to be prepared for it! Bruce stood up, cupping Jason's face, "Why are you crying, son?" He whispered.

"I'm not crying!" Of course, it would've been better had Jason's voice not broken, with a whimper following.

"Okay." Bruce seemed at a loss, observing for a moment before sliding a hand to the back of Jason's neck and guiding his son's face into his shoulder, "I don't know how I've upset you, but I'm sorry."

"Not sorry." Jason snuffled, giving in to the urge to throw his arms around Bruce, "I wasn't ready!"

"Ready?"

"For you to say that you, you…" Jason's voice dropped to the barest whisper, "love me…" Bruce tensed at the word, and Jason could almost have laughed did B not even realize when he said it?! Now that was funny.

"Oh." Bruce continued patting Jason's back, struggling with words, "Um, sorry you weren't ready…its not like…well I was just thinking it…so I said it…" They stood there quietly, a freaking 20 year old clinging to his father like a 5 year old…or worse, like Dick. Not that Jason was gonna let go just yet. Bruce let out a short laugh and at Jason's inquiring 'hmm?' said, "You know, for us knowing a dozen languages together, we should be much better with speaking."

Jason grinned, "You'd think."