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If Dick Greyson had always tried to keep up, Jason Todd almost always dragged behind complaining. "We just got back! And I chased that burglar over seven rooftops before you got around to stopping him! Now, you're dragging me up here again to watch the sunrise just so it can sear my eyes?!"

"It's to cool down our muscles and clear our minds."

"You know what my body and mind could use right now? Sleep!"

Bruce shook his head. After turning the corner, he stopped several steps from the edge. Jason caught up. Then the teen squatted while bending almost double before clutching his knees. After a few deep breaths, he straightened a little and grimaced. Jason took in the view he seemed to have gotten tired of within the first week of them performing this tradition together.

Bruce could no longer do it daily with Dick. During the spring and fall terms, his oldest was at college. Otherwise, he often stayed over with friends, sometimes with civilians who took the same classes or had at Gotham Academy before they went to different colleges. Other times, he went on long missions with his fellow heroes, usually the Titans. Now and then Dick would visit, though, most often on holidays. He said holidays were times to spend with family. During those brief stays, they'd perform this ritual all together, Dick, Jason, and him. Dick often made fun of Jason in a brotherly way, when he complained about coming up here in his hearing. Jason would grumble and push him. They often ended up down together in the leaves, dirt, or snow. So, Alfred would insist they shower before letting them back in the manor.

Bruce let his gaze flick to his current partner in fighting crime. He scanned Jason over to see if

there was true injury and suffering beneath his grousing. He "had" let the chase go on for a while.

He'd hoped the burglar would lead them to his van or truck. If he did so, that would mean any goods already in it, though they would be kept as evidence for a while, might then be returned to their owners. If the thief struck a deal with police, which plenty of evidence on hand would encourage him to do, the items could be returned even sooner. Otherwise, he might get off or serve time before leading them back to a stash of jewelry, credit cards, and electronics people would have to miss or replace until then.

After zigzagging in a few different directions, the thief had indeed headed back to his van letting him identify it and indeed find loot in the back. Bruce hoped by studying the mud encased in its tires later he'd find even more stolen goods he'd moved in the van. If he did, it could boost Jason's spirits. He liked being part of a success, after the fact. He resented extra work that didn't pay off, though.

He'd explained all this to Jason already. The second Robin had given him a dirty look in reply, but then said nothing more of his long chase till he'd also insisted they take this walk. Unless Jason was feeling uplifted or competitive it became a walk rather than a jog up this hill.

Bruce mused Jason might hate this tradition, because he couldn't see or feel the good it did save the times one of them was too injured to perform it. When Batman was injured, all Jason and Alfred's attention focused on him. Then, if he wasn't healthy enough to remind him, Jason didn't do anything to cool down his overworked muscles and felt it later. If Jason was too injured to walk or jog, but not enough his overworked muscles couldn't also be given time and attention, Alfred or he might massage them, so they wouldn't hurt later. If Jason's injury itself required too much time and attention, Jason would later say he wished he was concussed as well (if he wasn't). Tightened, cramping muscles made him complain. More serious injuries didn't.

The more serious his wounds were, both physical and mental, the more Jason clammed up. If he couldn't fight with someone or do something for someone else, he wanted to be left alone. Leslie said it was probably a habit from his upbringing the last several years of his life before he'd become Robin. One rare occasion Jason's lips were loosened by exhaustion and pain meds, Bruce had asked his partner about how his parents used to care for him when he was sick or injured. The answer had been as infuriating as enlightening.

"You know, when mom was sick and she noticed I was sick or hurt, she'd insist on doing something for me. I think it always only made her own condition worse in the long run. So I learned to take care of myself. Then dad, he'd do a little something for me while being mad it took him away from work. Then he'd leave, when he figured he'd done enough. I was always okay, though. I learned to care for myself. You and Alfred can go do something else now too … I'm fine …"

Later when Jason's mind was clearer and he tried to bring it back up, his second Robin had seemed angry he'd taken advantage of his past lightheaded state. At least they knew after that, why he seemed to resent extra attention.

When injured or ill, Jason refused to make eye-contact with Alfed, Leslie, himself and others while giving terse if truthful replies to important questions because it sped the process of treatment along probably. He knew they wouldn't leave till their questions were all answered. If things were merely inconvenient or uncomfortable, Jason tended to go on and on with complaints and arguments. He liked to fight verbally or physically.

Leslie said he'd probably learned to fight for attention, literally. He'd rather get negative than no attention at all from family, friends, and sometimes strangers. Batman was afraid this was one reason Jason had wanted to be Robin. It was also a reason he was afraid of not letting Jason be Robin. Without Robin, he'd find other ways, times, and places to pick a fight if he felt the need to fight so badly.

He was no Dick Greyson, but … Jason had never tried to see how close he could stand on the edge without going over like Dick. In fact, when Dick had done the same thing … again on their first jog up here as the three of them, Jason had asked in a panicked voice what he was doing. Dick had looked back and laughed. Jason had waited to pick an actual, physical fight with Dick until they were both on wider flatter ground over that verbal exchange and fright he gave him. Jason wanted to fight, but not take risks with things like gravity that couldn't fight back or be fought against. And he didn't truly risk those he cared about with such things either. Bruce had also noticed Jason didn't pick fights with those weaker than himself, only with those in his own or a greater weight class or skill level or both. Bruce hoped someday, he wouldn't feel the need to fight at all except to save the weaker from the stronger already picking on them. Jason seemed to already take pride in doing so as Robin. Bruce hoped Jason would get even more out of being Robin than Dick had. Of course, Jason never seemed to get as much out of "this" morning routine as Dick had. Bruce wondered again if he shouldn't just have him do his cool down on the indoor track.

The sun crested over the trees. The occasional bird call became a chorus with squirrel sounds intermingling. Due more to its nearness than volume, Bruce also heard the sigh of a human being.

He turned to see Jason smiling sadly at the view. His hands were in pockets and face and shoulders relaxed. Bruce smiled down and asked a question Dick would have approved of after he'd picked his fallen jaw off the ground. "Feel better?"

Jason looked up to give Bruce a slight scowl. Then the expression fell away as he shrugged and looked back out at the scenery. "It's pretty. Like something out of a book. Better than the neighborhoods we were running through earlier. Or 'I' was running through."

"I'm proud of you for not giving up."

Jason scowled at him again. "I wasn't gonna let that punk get away with taking an old man's TV while the guy was in the hospital!"

"I know."

"Then why are you talking like I might have?"

"I'm not. I'm saying I'm proud that you're the kind of man, who wouldn't let someone get away with that."

Jason's expression changed from a scowl to one of surprise. They stared at each other for a few moments. Jason's open mouth closed, and he swallowed. Then the teenager's stomach growled. He glanced down at the toes of his tennis shoes and dirt beneath them. Then he glanced back up at Bruce and asked in a tight voice, "Now, can we 'please' go get some breakfast?"

Bruce nodded. "We can."

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God bless

ScribeofHeroes