Practically before they've fully landed next to the Batmobile, Small-Cass slips off of Bruce's back and walks right past Jason and up to Cass. Small-Cass tilts her head, staring up that little bit toward her older Bruce-original counterpart.
Cass tilts her head in turn but makes no other moves.
"Cass," Small-Jason hisses frantically, still tucked into Bruce's side. "Stop that! Who-"
"These two are my allies," Bruce says. "You can trust them."
"Trust, trust, trust," Small-Jason grumbles. He makes no move to remove himself from Bruce's side, which on one hand, hopefully maybe he's trusting Bruce a little? On the other hand, it's far more likely that Small-Jason is simply choosing what he sees as the lesser of two evils. Better the devil you know than the devils you don't, after all. But Bruce doesn't want to force Small-Jason to any kind of perceived evil.
Carefully, Bruce settles Small-Jason on the ground and moves forward to open the doors to the Batmobile.
Small-Jason hesitates a moment, then steps closer to Small-Cass. "So. Does the Batmobile take five people? Or am I riding in the trunk or something?"
Trying not to think of whether Small-Jason's had to ride in a trunk before, Bruce says, "My allies have their own rides."
"We'll meet you there," Jason says. His helmet's voice modulator is off, Bruce notes, which is probably a wise choice.
Cass nods, but it looks like she's nodding more to Small-Cass and Small-Jason than to Jason.
Small-Cass smiles, a small but genuine thing. She steps up to the Batmobile and waves Small-Jason along with her.
As the two young children climb into the Batmobile, Bruce turns to his own children. He searches for words, searches for something to say that would reassure them without potentially making Small-Jason and Small-Cass concerned or suspicious, but nothing comes to him as they walk by.
Cass pats his elbow as she passes.
"We'll get this done, you know," Jason says awkwardly.
Bruce presses his lips together and tries for a smile.
For some reason, Jason snorts at that. He walks away with Cass, calling back, "Take a breath, old man, before you break."
Bruce does take a breath. Then he takes another breath, deeper this time. Then he climbs into the Batmobile and sets off.
As he drives, he attempts to converse with the children. Probably predictably, he gets nowhere. Small-Cass doesn't seem able to speak, at least at this point, and Small-Jason responds to every statement and every question with either a grunt or a new phrasing of "Why would you wanna know?"
When he stops the Batmobile in the Cave, Bruce doesn't climb out immediately. Instead, he tries one more time to talk to the kids.
"There are going to be things that are important for you to know, but they may be hard for you to hear," Bruce says. "If-"
"Hard for us to hear," Small-Jason mimics half-mockingly before Bruce can continue. "Hard like investigating a murder scene, or hard like dealing with overeager drug dealers, or hard like telling you stuff about my dead parents and their connections to the League of Assassins?"
Bruce's heart leaps into his throat.
"'Cause I don't think you could come up with anything that's harder than what you've had us do so far," Small-Jason says. "So give it to us already."
Bruce just goes for it. "I'm not your Batman."
Silence reigns for a moment.
"What the-" Small-Jason begins sharply, then he starts over. "What kinda hooey is that? 'Course you're Batman."
"I am Batman," Bruce agrees. "But I am not the Batman you know. I'm not from your universe, but an alternate one."
"You're saying alternate universes exist now," Small-Jason says.
"They likely always have," Bruce says, and he continues. "I am an alternate version of Batman, and my allies are alternate versions of yourselves."
Small-Jason goes silent again.
Bruce looks into the rearview mirror.
Small-Jason isn't looking at him. He's looking at Small-Cass.
Small-Cass is looking back at him. She's smiling again.
"Can you believe this?" Small-Jason demands of her.
Small-Cass turns slightly, looking more past him than at him.
Small-Jason turns too. Skeptically, he says, "What, him and her? They're us?"
To answer, Small-Cass opens the Batmobile side door and slides out.
Small-Jason yelps and hurries to do the same, half-limping after her.
Bruce waits for a moment. He leaves the two side doors open, so he can hear better, and he turns a little, so he can see better.
With Small-Jason as her shadow, Small-Cass is standing in front of Cass. Small-Cass looks relaxed, her posture loose.
Cass is standing with an equally loose, relaxed posture. Her cowl is off, and she's pulling insistently on Jason's jacket sleeve.
"I'm doing it, I'm doing it," Jason grumbles, sounding so much like his younger self as he pulls off his helmet and then his domino mask. He grins awkwardly and gives a little wave with the hand not holding his gear. "What's up?"
"I still think it's some kinda hooey," Small-Jason says, but his voice is much less sharp, much more uncertain.
"Yeah, B makes a lot of stuff sound like that," Jason says comfortably.
Small-Jason stands up straighter at that. "Is B Batman?"
"B is Batman," Jason confirms, then, with a wicked half-smile, he adds, "B is also Bruce Wayne, and a total softie."
Small-Jason's jaw drops.
"I don't know if I'd say softie, exactly," Tim says as he walks up toward the small group that's gathering.
"Softie," Jason says again. "Like, as in marshmallow fluff."
Small-Jason sputters incoherently.
Small-Cass pats him on the shoulder.
"From what we've gotten from your universe, this universe's Batman was a child-abusing peace-inhibiting blighter," Tim says.
Jason snorts. "Blighter? You could just say creep or scumbag, you know. You've been spending too much time with Alfred. Of course, I never thought that was a thing that could happen before now. You learn something new every day."
Tim valiantly ignores him. "But our Batman is a good guy, and he's trying to prove it to all of you. Speaking of, hey, Tim? Your informants are here, did you want to see them right away?"
It takes a moment, but Kid-Tim shyly walks forward toward the group. He rocks a little, seemingly gathering courage. "Hello."
"Wait just a minute," Small-Jason says before Kid-Tim says anything else. "Roost? Is that you?"
"Hi," Kid-Tim says, perking up a little. "You remember me?"
"Well, duh," Small-Jason says. "We talked with you over the camera about the Matthews murders just two weeks ago, Roost."
"But you remember my codename?" Kid-Tim asks.
"The newest one, yeah," Small-Jason says. "Are you ever gonna stick with just one?"
"Batman doesn't like it when I stick with one codename," Kid-Tim says reflexively. "He says it makes people suspicious about me. But, uh, I guess that doesn't matter anymore."
"Why?" Small-Jason asks.
"Your Batman is dead," Jason says.
Small-Jason sputters again for a moment. "He's dead?!"
"You can check the body bag over there, see for yourself," Jason says unhelpfully, pointing toward the med bay.
Cass pulls on his jacket sleeve again, this time hard enough to knock him off-balance.
"Or not," Jason says, regaining his balance. "Because we're here to help you all, not expose you to more murders and things, right?"
Cass tugs his jacket sleeve only a tiny bit, nodding approvingly.
"Help us, how?" Small-Jason says suspiciously.
They're all quiet for a moment.
Bruce decides to get out of the Batmobile then. As he approaches, he says, "We want to help in any way we can help you all. However, given the delicacy of the situation, our choices may be limited. Our main options are likely contacting the police department, contacting the Justice League, and contacting our own universe to bring you back with us to talk to our own Justice League."
"Contacting the Justice League," Small-Jason repeats. "The Batman I'm familiar with would've never done that as a choice."
Bruce quirks a small smile. "So you believe I'm not your universe's Batman?"
"Didn't say that just yet," Small-Jason quips, but with a somewhat more "comfortable" kind of snark than before. "Give it time."
Bruce will take that. Bruce will definitely take that.