Kid-Tim had given Bruce the meeting place for his informants, which Bruce had in turn given to Jason and Cass over comms. Bruce hadn't, however, told the two of them who they were meeting there. He figures it would be better to explain in person.
"Informants," Jason says when Bruce joins them on the rooftop overlooking the alley they're meant to meet the informants in. Jason leans slightly over the lip of the rooftop, peering down into the alley. "What kind of informants?"
Cass watches Bruce carefully. With her mask on, Bruce can't see her lips press together in thought, but he's sure that's what they're doing. He can tell by knowing her so well that she's thinking a lot about what little he told them.
"These two informants are primarily for the League of Assassins," Bruce says. He hesitates, looking for the right words. He spreads his hands in front of him, indicating the two of them. "I know the two of them well."
"What's that supposed to mean, you-" Jason begins, turning around toward Bruce.
Cass interrupts with a small hum of understanding. "They're us."
Jason pauses. He turns toward Cass. "Wait, really? Us? You and me?"
"Right?" Cass asks.
"Right," Bruce says.
Predictably, Jason curses, fists clenching. "That's… They're us. Younger versions of us?"
"They looked about 14 and 13 respectively," Bruce says, gesturing to Cass and then to Jason.
"You saw them on the way here?" Jason asks.
"On the Batcomputer," Bruce says. "The child in the Cave assisted Red Robin and myself in opening it, and he showed me a photo of the two of them."
"Speaking of the Cave kid," Jason says. "Any luck figuring out what their deal is?"
"As his counterpart in our world did, the boy in the Cave figured out Batman's identity and went to talk to Batman," Bruce says delicately. "It did not go well for him. The boy hasn't left the Cave since."
Jason puts the pieces together quickly. "So Red Robin's got a messed-up mini-me like the rest of us, then."
"That's one way to put it," Bruce says.
They lapse into silence for a few minutes, the noises of the city floating around them: a car honk, someone's yell, a distant siren…
And, down in the alley, the distinct sound of footsteps. Two small figures appear from the shadows by the alley's mouth and walk halfway down the alley before stopping to wait.
"They're here," Bruce says. "I'll go down first. I'll signal when to join me."
"It's a bad idea," Jason mutters.
"Not great," Cass says in agreement.
"They regularly gave the other Batman information," Bruce reminds them. "They should be willing to hear me out."
"We'll see," Jason says. "Guess we'll just have to bail you out when you screw it up."
Bruce sighs. He comes to the very edge of the rooftop and pauses. He could go down using his grappling hook, which would be the easy way to do this. On the other hand he could go down the fire escape, which would be harder and take more time but would be less likely to startle the two young alternate versions of his children.
He chooses to startle the two kids as little as possible.
Descending the fire escape takes a few moments, and it creaks as Bruce goes, giving him time to watch the two figures in the alley look up as he descends.
The figures are small, as he already noted. They're both dressed in what looks like multiple layers of rags, covering their features for the most part. When Bruce gets off of the fire escape and reaches the alley, he stops a few steps back and watches them for a moment.
The slightly taller figure watches him back.
The slightly shorter figure turns back toward the mouth of the alley, turning their back to him but also to their companion, seemingly trusting him, or at least trusting their companion to let them know when to leave. They're favoring their right leg as they turn, limping a bit.
"Hello," Bruce says. The word tastes wrong in his mouth. "Are you all right?"
The taller figure leans forward a little.
It's silent.
"Did he just ask if we're all right?" The shorter figure hisses, turning a little toward the taller figure. The voice is Jason's distinct grumble, but higher-pitched than Bruce has heard in years. "What the- Why would he ask that?"
The taller figure, who therefore must be Cass, doesn't reply in either word or action. She keeps watching Bruce.
"Yeah, we're all right," Small-Jason says bluntly.
"You're limping," Bruce says. "Are you hurt?"
"Not hurt any more than usual, but what do you care? We got your information, so let us give it to you, and let us have the goods, and let us get out of here," Small-Jason says, tugging the rags around his face away to give Bruce a scowl. (His face is so thin, bearing several scars Bruce didn't expect.)
Not hurt any more than usual? Bruce wonders at the statement with a hurt pang in his chest. He reminds himself that these two children are not his two children, and that they don't know that he's a different Batman than the one they're used to, and that they're probably used to not being cared about. It doesn't make the hurt any less, but it makes him refocus on what approach to take.
"I would like the information," Bruce says. "However, I would like you to come with me to deliver it."
Small-Jason rears back at that.
Quickly, before Small-Jason can verbally protest, Bruce adds, "For your time, I'll triple your usual payment."
Does Bruce have any idea what the usual payment is? No. Does that matter? Also no. What matters is getting these two somewhere safe and getting their help to get everyone moving forward.
Small-Jason hesitates. He looks at Small-Cass.
Small-Cass takes a step toward Bruce. She pulls at the rags around her head, uncovering her face. Her eyes are sharp, piercing into Bruce. She looks at him for a long moment.
Then, deliberately, she turns her back to him.
Bruce's heart sinks. He's rapidly recalculating a new way to get these two to come to the Cave with him when he notices it.
Small-Cass isn't walking away. Instead, she's pulling something out of a pocket. It's mostly dark gray, with small patches of lighter areas. It's a very, very well-used piece of paper. Then she pulls out a nubby pencil too and scribbles something down out of Bruce's sight, showing it to Small-Jason.
Small-Jason's mouth forms a frown. "No, he's not."
Small-Cass taps the paper with the pencil nub.
"He's Batman," Small-Jason hisses. "Yeah, he gives us stuff, but that's 'cause we give him stuff! He's fair, mostly, but he doesn't care. He's not-"
Small-Cass taps the paper again, more insistently.
"I don't like this," Small-Jason says quietly. "It's a bad idea."
Small-Cass tucks the paper and pencil away. She holds a hand out to Small-Jason.
Small-Jason sighs. "I trust you. I don't trust him, okay? But I trust you."
And with that, Small-Jason tucks his hand into the hand of Small-Cass.
Small-Cass turns and comes over to Bruce, Small-Jason just a pained-looking limping half-step behind her. Small-Cass looks up at Bruce. She holds her other hand out to him.
His heart in his throat, Bruce slowly reaches out and takes her hand in his. His hand on its own would be larger than hers even in normal circumstances; with his gauntlets on, Bruce feels like she's dwarfed in comparison.
Small-Cass stares up at him, waiting, while Small-Jason is looking back behind them, his head turning side to side with tension in every motion.
"Let's go," Bruce says, and he takes a step toward the fire escape. Then he pauses. "Can you both take a fire escape?"
"Why wouldn't we be able to?" Small-Jason challenges, taking another pained-looking step forward.
Bruce rethinks this. "Actually, it'll be easier for me to use my grappling hook to get us where we need to go. We'll meet at the Batmobile."
"We've already met," Small-Jason says in a grumble, thankfully taking the bait of a strange phrase (directed more toward his own Cass and Jason) to distract him from the change of plans.
"If one of you would climb on my back, I can hold onto the other by my side," Bruce says, going to one knee.
Small-Cass readily climbs onto Bruce's back.
Small-Jason crosses his arms and glares.
Bruce waits.
After a moment, Small-Jason groans and steps forward to Bruce's side.
Bruce wraps an arm carefully but securely around Small-Jason, trying to ignore just how small he really is. He straightens up, makes sure both children are secured, and then he pulls out his grappling hook and they're off.