Bruce watched them giggle, her face red, as both probably remembered something that happened between them. He didn't know what they were talking about — there was so much he didn't know about them, or about Jason — but it was grounding how easy she talked about… about Red Hood, with the same love in her eyes that she reserved for Jason.
He felt so stupid for thinking that Jasmine wanted to harm his son. He would still observe, of course, just in case; but he knew acting and he knew that Jasmine was not putting up an act when she smiled back at Jason's grin.
"How did you two meet?"
Jazz didn't acknowledge when the others got quiet and looked at him. "I think a few weeks after I moved in. We ran into each other in the elevator."
"Ah yes. I remember thinking you were weird."
"Hey."
"I mean— an outsider moving so close to Crime Alley? I was half convinced you'd be killed in a week."
Jasmine huffed, playfully slapping her boyfriend's arm. "I can take care of myself."
"I know that now, but when you told me you worked at Arkham I—"
"You said, and I quote, 'And you are still alive?'"
"You work at Arkham?" Bernard jumped where he was sitting next to Tim on the other sofa. "Wha— How?"
Jason made a gesture like "see? I'm not the only one", the smirk not leaving his lips. Bruce couldn't remember the last time he saw him smile so much.
"I came to Gotham because I saw they had an opening. Well, it doesn't surprise me now that I've seen it with my own eyes. Everyone ends up dead or quits their job in that place." She shook her head in, a slight frown on her face.
"Then why haven't you? Quit, I mean."
She thought about her answer for a moment. Bruce leaned in, interested in what she was going to say. He remembered her application explaining her interest in Gotham's rogues and how they came to be.
"Many things? I always wanted to work in the mental health field," she looked down, sighing, "not necessarily criminal psychology, but since this job was close to what I do back in the Infinite Realms I thought I could learn something new."
Close to what she did? What was her role in this Team Phantom she mentioned?
"Also," she continued, "Gotham's rogues kind of grow on you? Some of them just need a healthier outlet, or to be dedicated an amount of time that nobody is willing to do in Arkham. Because of course they don't," she rolled her eyes, making a vague gesture with her hand, "since high management is more focused on embezzling donations and trying to get their foot into the Mob business."
The others, who had heard her mention that when Bruce went to Jason's apartment the previous day, leaned in at the new information.
"She has powerpoints." Jason crossed his arms. "And a hit list."
"Is not a hit list." Jasmine quickly clarified. "I don't have proof, yet, but I will. At this point I just want to see Dylan's career ruined out of spite."
"He hates you with passion." Bruce observed, remembering the disdain and thinly veiled hatred Dylan had towards Jasmine. He had been obviously trying to convince him she was a maladapted naïve young girl that was going to get herself killed. "I think he actually wants you dead."
Jasmine scoffed. "If he wants me dead that much he has to do it himself."
It was like a mirage — the way she crossed her arms, the raised eyebrow, the daring smile. Was she so much like Jason or was it something she unconsciously copied from him?
Either way, it was actually very cute.
"And the rogues haven't tried to kill you?"
She turned to look at Duke, shrugging. "No yet? I know some of them dislike me, but in general they tolerate me just fine. I think they are waiting to see me snap, or at least Edward said so."
"Riddler?"
"Yeah. He has this interesting —" she made a face, indicating that wasn't exactly the word she was thinking " — way of displaying affection. Last Friday, when the breakout happened, he was the one who told me to be prepared with a 'I'd hate to see your brains splattered on the wall, doc'."
"So he knew beforehand and told you? And you didn't stop him?"
Several looked at him, a warning in their eyes. Bruce backpedaled quickly, relaxing his shoulders on purpose.
"Part of my job in Arkham is gaining their trust. Treating them like people helps, some lower their guard once they see I'm not afraid of them, others are all about their secrets. Secrets are expensive in Arkham," Jasmine's eyes were cold and her body language collected, "Ed risked a lot just by telling me. If it was known that Riddler is a snitch then he would be out of the market. Is a delicate game."
Duke was nodding along in agreement. Jason was still glaring at Bruce.
"And what if any of them turn on you? You can't trust them."
He knew he sounded paranoid, but he had tried to help them before. He had tried to invest that time and that effort Jasmine was talking about into helping them instead of just tossing them back to Arkham, but it was the same story over and over again — they could change and be better, but circumstances always brought them back in an endless cycle not unlike his own.
"I can take care of myself."
Before anybody could stop him, Damian threw something at Jasmine. It was fast, and when they heard her loud gasp Bruce was completely ready to rush for the first aid kit in the nearby bathroom.
"That was not nice, kid."
Damian huffed. "Not a kid."
Bruce watched, mesmerized, how Jasmine yanked a pocket knife from the back of the sofa right where her head would have been if she didn't somehow dodge it in time.
"Oh hey, it's Jason's knife! I thought I had lost it."
She held the pocket knife like it was the most precious thing in the world, closing it with care. She said it was Jason's?
"Tt, how careless about your weapons can you be? Took it as evidence after you threw it at me."
"Ohhh, right. Sorry about that. I was kinda running on adrenaline back then."
"How did you move so fast?"
Jasmine shrugged at Bernard. "At the house where I grew up, the first thing you learn is how to dodge fast." She put the knife in her pants pocket. "And the second is how to kill before you are killed."
To his credit, Damian looked impressed for a second. It was refreshing next to the worried glances of everyone else.
"What do you mean?" He had to ask, concerned.
No one missed how she took Jason's hand in hers.
"I assume everyone heard us? Last Tuesday."
Bruce remembered feeling righteous hot rage as he took her to the Diner. Her panicked face when she saw the documents. Her voice shaking as she begged Jason to believe her.
"Yes." He swallowed the discomfort.
If Jasmine was hurt by what happened, she didn't show. "My parents were… neglectful. There is no way around the sobbing backstory," she chuckled, "but even if their lack of lab security has made us what we are today, my brother and I were raised in a hostile environment.
"They mixed samples with food, storing them in the same fridge. They worked on dangerous machinery in the kitchen and living room. They left children unsupervised in a lab full of chemicals and sharp objects."
She was glaring at her own hands as she kept talking. "As you know, ectoplasm can bring things back to life. Even food."
"Food?" Tim didn't look convinced.
"I learned how to fight by re-killing the Thanksgiving turkey every year. And dinner." She added after considering. "So many dinners."
Stephanie was the first one to start laughing. Tim and Bernard followed, and soon everyone was chuckling at the absurd picture her words painted.
Bruce wasn't laughing, though. It wasn't as bad as the insanity they were used to, no murder cults or sadistics fathers, but still not something that sat well in Bruce's mind. What kind of childhood did she and her brother have when they weren't safe in their own house?
"Of course after the portal and with how things escalated it was less about survival and more about fighting to subdue and capture ghosts."
"Not killing them?" Cass asked.
Jazz was shaking her head. "Back then all that came through the portal were troublemakers and supervillain wannabes. Later on we learned that a lot of them were testing Danny and more like training him in his new powers. We only captured and threw them back into the portal." She sighed. "It wasn't until we got more involved in the Realms and saw that there was so much more going on, that it was a whole dimension with complex societies and power structures, that we understood that to have actual peace the task wasn't as simple as it looked like."
Cass blinked, not wasting a second to ask. "Can ghosts be killed?"
Jasmine's posture became tense. "Yes. Liminals, ghosts and— and other beings in the Realms. Is less about death and more about… ceasing to exist."
They knew there was more going on with that statement. Was Jasmine some kind of executioner? Was that why she was so tense?
Bruce wasn't sure how to feel about that. There was so much he didn't know about her, about her life, about the Infinite Realms. There was a whole dimension with people, and some of those wished to cross over and do harm. Others had committed their life to protect a balance he didn't know existed, probably paying some kind of price.
He wanted to ask so many things — what was her role in the Team? Who was she? Any event the Justice League should know about? How did their society work? What does the Underworld look like?
But he couldn't ask that.
Not yet.
"What is your hometown like?"
Jasmine looked at him with relief in her teal eyes. He had said the right thing for once.
"Amity Park, the most haunted town in America. Or 'a nice place to live', as the sign says," she smiled. "Is very different from Gotham. It's sunny, for starters," there were a few chuckles, "and it has always been a weird town. The Veil is thinner there, more than Gotham, and it has never been out of place to have ghostly encounters there."
"So what? The dead walk among the living?"
She nodded at Dick. "Pretty much, yeah. 'Dead but not gone', we always say. After the portal ripped a door between dimensions there is so much ectoplasm around that almost everything that dies comes back soon after."
"And Gotham? You said the Veil is thin here too."
"Gotham is, uh, weird? The Veil is thin here, but there is so little ambient ectoplasm. Ghosts here are not as strong as they are in Amity Park, but there are so many ghosts everywhere anyway. As stubborn in death as they are in life, I guess."
There was certain pride blooming in Bruce's chest at her words, even as his mind latched on to the fact that the dead in Gotham tended to come back to life. Made him wonder how many people he knew had become ghosts.
Were his parents still around? Were they watching him, the man he had become? He wasn't sure he wanted to know what they would say to him if he met them now.
If he asked Jasmine would she help him? He had messed up things with her, he knew, but she was an easy and close way to answer those questions.
No. Not yet.
"You said the Manor is haunted?"
Jasmine chuckled. "Very! I was unsure if I would need to set up wards here but I think your ancestors have it covered. Nothing will enter here if they don't wish to."
Bruce didn't miss how she could enter the house. His family accepted her, approved of her. Or maybe it was because she was influential?
"So if you could enter it means they like you?" Dick voiced his thoughts.
"Or has it something to do with you being a supernatural influencer?" Steph leaned in.
"What are you, by the way?" Tim had a certain glint in his eyes, like he did when he had a new mystery to solve.
Jasmine blinked at the quick questions, overwhelmed, opening her mouth.
"I remember certain agreement that tonight was not supposed to derive into an interrogation." Alfred interrupted her from the door. She smiled at him. "Also, dinner is ready."
Bruce watched as all his kids stood up and walked out of the room, his eyes stuck on how casually Jason entwined his hand with Jazz's after he helped her stand up, how his eyes were soft on the edges when he looked at her.
She was talking with Steph about something, Bruce caught a few words but he wasn't big on social media and it sounded like some kind of Twitter scandal. Jazz laughed at something Steph said. Jason smiled a little too, adding his own opinion.
"It's amazing, right?"
Bruce turned towards his eldest. "I didn't know he could make that expression."
"There is something about her," Dick shook his head, "I don't know how to describe it."
Yeah. Bruce knew what he meant — there was a certain edge about her, something clearly made different. Even if he didn't know what he knew about her now, he understood that she would not pass as a normal civilian like Bernard did, for example.
Jasmine was someone that could understand their world, and yet, she was not a hardened warrior. She showed softness and kindness even when thrown a knife to her face. She loved Jason and wasn't afraid to show it. She still smiled even after all the things she went through.
It took a certain amount of bravery to be like that. To still care after… after everything.
Jason needed someone like her in his life.
Bruce cared about him, he loved him so much, but he didn't get the same results when they interacted — Bruce was so unsure about every word, every move, and in the end he made it worse in every interaction. He had stopped trying, but maybe that had been a bad call on his part.
He would observe them and try to understand how they made it look so easy.
"I actually don't mind an interrogation." Jazz was the first to speak as they all sat down.
"Don't." Jason frowned at her. "They don't know how to stop."
"Bold of you to assume I don't have my own questions."
They grinned at each other, remembering a conversation a long time ago, where she said she wanted to study the bats like a bug.
"Have a little bit of faith, Little Wing," Dick said from where he was sitting next to Bruce.
"Faith? In you?" Jason glared at his brother.
Jazz gently put a hand on his, turning to look at Dick. "About your question, and the following ones— Yes, permission to enter is a big thing for ghosts. Especially a haunt. Gotham is… hm," she looked up to thank Alfred when he passed by with her food, "thanks. Anyway, a haunt is a territory that belongs to a ghost. The more powerful the ghost, the bigger the haunt. They can share the haunt with weaker ghosts that cannot maintain a haunt, for mutual protection, but at the end of the day the more powerful one calls the shots.
"Gotham, the city, is a giant haunt that belongs to one Spirit. Without her approval nothing goes in. Or out."
There were raised eyebrows at her words, but Jazz kept talking, making wide gestures with her hands.
"There are highly charged places, like this Manor, where a bunch of ghosts would congregate and have a mini-haunt inside Gotham, if the Spirit allows it. Arkham is another, for example. That one is a bit more cursed, though."
Figures.
"And this… Spirit," the word was pronounced slowly, like Bruce was trying to get used to it, "controls the city?"
"Gotham, the Spirit, is… old." She made a face. "She may have been powerful, very powerful, once upon a time; but with all the magic cults and the pollution and the, well, situation of the city, she's not what she was. She won't die, yet, but Danny still wishes to help her despite our differences." She sighed. "It's in the list of stuff to do, which grows by the day."
There was a beat of silence as they processed her words. Jazz looked around nervously, distracting herself by pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
Cass, who was sitting on Jazz's other side, didn't miss how her ear was slightly pointed.
"Eat."
Alfred manifested besides Bruce, glaring at him until he picked up a fork and shoved potato salad in his mouth. Then he nodded and left. Bruce swallowed and cleared his throat.
"So the city is dying because of us?"
Several of his children glanced at him, expecting the usual spiral about the sins of the father, yadda yadda.
"Hmmm, is it more like a feedback loop at this point? Gotham cannot deal with the stuff sapping her energy, not anymore, and those bad influences on the citizens create a constant stream of crime and evil that tire her out."
"So if the Spirit is cured then all crime will disappear?" Tim frowned, disbelieving.
Jazz was already shaking her head before he ended his question. "No. People's choices cannot be controlled, just influenced. Gotham's ghosts are not powerful enough for possession, just nudging minds here and there. Whispers here and there. If Gotham were at full power and she could catch all of the troublemakers, it wouldn't completely erase humans' ability to do good or bad. Is still their choice."
She paused for a moment to try the potato salad, chewed and swallowed.
"She's very fond of you guys. Protective." This raised a few eyebrows and a big smile from Cass and Dick. "She actually threatened us to not even think of touching any of you or she would throw hands."
"I mean—" Whatever Tim was going to say with a big smirk and raised eyebrows was lost when Bernard elbowed him so hard he doubled over. "Betrayal." He wheezed.
"Could you win against her in a fight?" Steph's eyes were shiny at the prospect of Jazz fist fighting the freaking city to gain Jason's hand in marriage.
"I don't think so," Jazz tilted her head. "I'm very rusty and she is an old city. She may not be what she once was, but she wins just by experience alone."
"Bummer."
Jazz shrugged. "Believe it or not, I had no intention of fighting anybody when I moved here."
"Could have fooled me," Jason deadpanned, chewing. When he swallowed, he added. "I've never seen anybody choose violence as fast as you do."
Jazz blushed, pointing her fork at him like she was going to stab him with it. "I take that personally, mister 'this is my territory and I'll kill you if you trespass'." She imitated his voice, mocking even the modulated effect.
"You are the one to talk!" It was his time to blush. "You were going to kick me out! In front of Timmy!"
"He was hurt, I couldn't let you start a pointless fight in my apartment."
"Oh I remember this one." Bernard chuckled. "Tim ripped two of the stitches because he insisted he was good enough to continue."
"Of course," Jazz scoffed at the crimefighter. "How long did it take? Ten minutes?"
"Fifteen."
"Yeah, figures." She shook her head in disapproval, which Bernard imitated. "Resting is a big part of the healing process."
"THANK YOU!" Bernard's face illuminated, leaning over the table to take Jazz's hand. "Finally! Someone with common sense!"
"I guess you have had to do the same speech—"
"Plenty of times, yeah," he chuckled. "I'm actually an EMT. Decided to go that career after dumb dumb over here came bleeding to my apartment one too many times."
Jazz nodded in understanding. Bernard nodded in understanding.
Tim and Jason looked at each other, realizing at the same time that letting these two meet had been a bad idea.
Dick chuckled nervously, his mind going to a recent time Jason had been bleeding to death in Jazz's apartment. He decided to change topics, and fast.
"So," he cleared his throat, "you said you figured out Jay's identity, how did that happen?"
Jazz hummed, cutting a bit of her steak and chewing it as she thought her answer. "I mean," she started when she swallowed, "there was the obvious, but circumstantial, stuff. Unexplained income. Odd hours. Too many coincidences. Jason not knowing how to properly hide his stuff—"
"I am not—"
" — but what was solid proof was his blood."
Jason, who wanted to protest her obvious jab at his person, froze mid sentence.
Duke choked on his salad. Bruce almost choked with his water.
Jazz froze too, slowly looking up from her hands cutting another piece of steak. She looked at Jason with a nervous smile.
"Forgot to tell you about the blood thing, huh?"
