Chapter 21: AwakeSummary:

Jason wakes up and has to face some harsh truths.

Chapter Text

There were no clocks in the Batcave. Oversized penny, giant, green dinosaur? Sure, but clocks no. So, Bruce didn't know how much time had passed as both J'onn and Jason sat there, still as statues.

He didn't like the waiting. He was a man of action, not a bystander, not ever a bystander. Until now. And it was killing him.

Bruce's eyes flickered to J'onn, whose normally impassive face was a mask of intense concentration. He had seen J'onn delve into minds before, but never like this. The Martian was digging deep, further than Bruce had ever asked him to go before. And Jason—God, Jason looked so small, so fragile, curled up in the chair. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, but his face was locked in a grimace, as if his body still remembered the pain of what had been done to him.

The Batcave was silent except for the soft whir of the Batcomputer and the distant sound of water dripping somewhere in the cave's depths. The quiet was unnerving, the kind that allowed

Bruce's mind to wander into dark, torturous thoughts. He'd failed Jason. Again.

The thought gnawed at him relentlessly. He had promised to keep Jason safe, to protect him, and he had failed. No matter how many criminals he stopped, no matter how many lives he saved, the image of Jason lying broken in that warehouse would forever haunt him.

Bruce's fists clenched at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

He wanted to grab J'onn and pull him away from Jason's mind, to shake Jason awake himself, to do something, anything, to fix this.

But all he could do was wait.

Suddenly, Jason twitched, his body jolting upright in the chair. His hands shot up to grip the sides of the armrests, his breathing quickening. Bruce was at his side in an instant, kneeling in front of the chair, his eyes searching Jason's face for any sign of awareness.

"Jason?" Bruce's voice was low, almost a whisper. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for any kind of response. "Can you hear me?"

Jason's eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light of the cave. His gaze was unfocused at first, darting around the room in a haze of confusion. He seemed lost, as if he didn't recognize where he was—or who he was.

Bruce pulled down his cowl. "Jason," he asked again. Jason's eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light of the cave. His gaze was unfocused at first, darting around the room in a haze of confusion. He seemed lost, as if he didn't recognize where he was—or who he was.

But then, his eyes found Bruce. There was a flicker of recognition, brief but undeniable. Jason's lips parted, but no words came. His body trembled, as though caught between fear and relief.

"It's okay," Bruce said softly, his voice steady but filled with the weight of all his emotions. "You're safe. You're home."

Jason stared at him for a long moment, his chest still rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths. His eyes were wide, filled with something Bruce couldn't quite place—fear, confusion, maybe even a flicker of hope.

"B-Bruce?" Jason's voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp.

Bruce's heart clenched. Hearing his name from Jason's lips after everything—after the pain, the fear, the torment—was like a lifeline. He nodded, placing a steady hand on Jason's arm.

"I'm here," Bruce said. "I'm right here."

Jason blinked slowly, as if trying to process the words, trying to make sense of the world around him. His gaze drifted down to his own body, to the blanket still wrapped tightly around him. He tugged at it, pulling it closer to his chest,

He lifted his arm up to his nose and sniffed the air. His expression stiffened. He felt along his pants line, hand stilling when nothing could be felt. His eyes blew wide, and he lifted the hand up to his mouth and screamed.

Bruce's blood ran cold at the sound of Jason's scream—a raw, gut-wrenching cry that pierced through the stillness of the Batcave. He surged forward instinctively, his hands gripping Jason's shoulders, trying to ground him.

"Jason! Jason, it's okay! You're safe!" Bruce's voice was urgent, but calm, fighting to cut through the boy's panic.

Jason jerked away; his eyes wild with terror. His hand hovered back to his waist, fingers trembling as they brushed the empty space where a part of him once was. The realization hit him fully, and his body recoiled, curling in on itself as if trying to escape the truth.

He stopped screaming and tears began to flow down his face.

"No, no, no, no!" Jason's voice cracked, hoarse and broken, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His face was twisted with anguish, his hands trembling violently as they gripped the edge of the blanket again, pulling it tighter around himself like it could somehow protect him from the reality he had just uncovered.

Bruce knelt beside the chair, his heart breaking at the sight of Jason unraveling in front of him. His mind raced, trying to find the right words, anything that could ease the pain. But there were no words for this—no words to make what Jason had lost any easier to bear.

"Jason, listen to me," Bruce said softly, his voice steady despite the pain in his chest. "You're safe now. Whatever they did to you, it's over. You're home."

But Jason wasn't hearing him. His eyes were wide, unfocused, darting around the room as if searching for something to anchor himself to, something that made sense. His breathing grew faster, more erratic, as he pressed his hands against his stomach, as if trying to feel something that was no longer there.

"They." Jason's breath staggered. "They bitched me and then they…." Jason opened his mouth to say something else but no words came out.

Bruce's grip grew tighter. He looked his son in the face. He took a deep breath. "Purified you." He confirmed in the grim matter of fact Batman voice. The one he used to summarize cases, it was the only way the words would come out.

Jason trembled and the silence weighed heavy between them. "I'm an omega now." He whispered and Bruce did nothing to deny it.

Jason's trembling intensified as the truth sank deeper into his mind. His breathing became shallow, broken by quiet sobs, and he looked down at his hands as if they no longer belonged to him. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating.

"I'm an omega now." Jason repeated quietly. The words weighed heavy.

Bruce remained silent, his hands still gripping Jason's shoulders, steadying him even as the weight of those words pressed down on both of them. He wanted to say something, anything to comfort him, but the truth was undeniable, and Jason didn't need false hope right now.

Jason's voice wavered as he continued, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I'm... nothing." His voice was so soft, so broken, and it sent a painful jolt through Bruce's chest. "Everything I had... everything I was... it's gone."

Bruce's heart clenched. Jason had been proud, fierce in his identity as an alpha. He had fought to be seen as strong, capable—an equal. Now, the realization that he was no longer any of those things in the eyes of the world was shattering him. Being an omega stripped him of so much more than his physical strength. It stripped him of rights, autonomy, and in a world that valued strength and dominance, it made him vulnerable in ways he had never been before.

Jason's hands gripped the blanket so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his voice cracked as he spoke again. "I'll have no rights. No control over my life. They'll... they'll take everything away from me, won't they?" His gaze was distant, as if staring into a future he couldn't bear to face. "I'm nothing but... property now."

Bruce's grip on his shoulders tightened slightly, and he forced himself to meet Jason's gaze. His own heart ached at the realization of how much had been taken from him, how the world would view Jason now, but he couldn't allow his son to spiral into despair. He wouldn't allow it.

"That's not true, Jason," Bruce said firmly, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "You're not property. You're not nothing. You're my son. And no matter what anyone else says, no one gets to decide your worth. No one."

"Oh really," Jason asked bitterly. "Tell me Bruce can I drive a car."

"Well no…" Bruce began.

"Can I own property or even have my own money. Can I work or go to school?"

Again, the answer was no but Bruce couldn't bring himself to answer again.

Jason continued. "Am I allowed to go out without an escort? Can I have my own legal representation?" His breathing was getting heavy, and his smell soured. His voice grew more frantic. "Do I get to decide if and who I marry? Do I get to wear the clothes I want. Can I vote?"

He panted heavily. Bruce looked back to J'onn. He hadn't even realized he had moved further back. J'onn's face was pinched tightly.

"Be honest with him Batman," J'onn spoke telepathically. "He's a smart boy. He knows exactly what this change means for him. He just needs you to recognize it as well." And Bruce did recognize it. He'd never cared before what life was like for omegas. Not until Jason became one.

"No," he said, again using his Batman voice. Cold and calculating, that was the only way he was going to get through this. "You won't."

Jason was shaking. "I'll never get to leave home even if I wanted to, will I? Not unless you decide to marry me off. You're my guardian until the day I die."

Bruce nodded. Again, Jason was right.

Jason let out a hollow laugh, but there was no humor in it—only bitterness and pain. His voice cracked as he spoke, each word filled with the weight of his shattered future. "So that's it then? Everything I was… everything I fought for… it's all gone. Just like that."

Bruce felt his stomach turn, guilt and helplessness gnawing at him like an insatiable hunger. He had always been able to fix things—through sheer will, through resources, through his tireless efforts. But this… this wasn't something he could fight. This was a world that had already decided Jason's fate, long before any of this had happened.

"You're still you, Jason," Bruce said, his voice low but resolute. "What they did to you doesn't change who you are inside. They can take away your rights, your status, but they can't take away you. You're still my son. And I will never let anyone or anything take that from you."

Jason's eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked at Bruce, shaking his head slowly. "You don't understand," he whispered. "You can't understand. I'll never be free. I'll never be able to stand on my own again."

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but Jason cut him off. "You can't fix this, Bruce," Jason said, his voice rising with a desperate edge. "You can't just beat up some villain and make it all better. You can't change the laws or the way people see me now. I'm an omega. I'll always be an omega. I'll always be… weak."

The word hung in the air like a curse. Jason had never been weak, not even as a child. He had always fought to prove himself, always strived to be stronger, faster, better than everyone else. But now, in this moment, Bruce saw the truth in Jason's eyes—the fear, the vulnerability, the crushing weight of helplessness.

Bruce tightened his grip on Jason's shoulders, his gaze unwavering. "You're not weak," he said, his voice firm. "You've never been weak. And no matter what happens, I'll be here. I'll fight for you. I'll protect you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Jason shook his head, biting his lip to hold back the tears. "But what's the point, Bruce? What's the point of fighting when the whole worlds already decided what I am?"

Bruce's heart broke at the question, the raw pain in Jason's voice cutting deeper than any wound. He didn't have an answer—not one that would make this better, not one that could undo the nightmare Jason was now living.

But he couldn't let Jason give up. Not now. Not ever.

"The point," Bruce said slowly, "is that you're more than what they see. You've always been more. And no matter how they label you, no matter how they try to take away your freedom, you will always be Jason Todd. And that means something. It means everything."

Jason looked up at him, his tear-filled eyes searching Bruce's face for some kind of reassurance, some spark of hope. "But what if it's not enough?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's enough for me," Bruce said softly, his voice filled with the quiet conviction of a man who had faced the darkness and come back from it. "And it will be enough for you. We'll find a way. Together."

Bruce exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. He knew there was no easy way to say what was on his mind, but Jason needed to hear it.

"Even if you can't be Robin again..." Bruce's voice was low, careful, but the words hung heavy in the air.

Jason's head snapped up, eyes blazing with fury. "What?" he barked, his voice rising with incredulity. "I what? Bruce, you can't take that from me too!"

"Jason, it's too dangerous," Bruce began, trying to keep his voice steady, but Jason's anger was like a fuse already lit.

"Too dangerous?" Jason echoed, his voice cracking with a mixture of outrage and disbelief. He stood, up from the chair trembling with rage. "You don't get to decide that! You don't get to take away the only thing I have left!"

"Jason, listen to me," Bruce said firmly, stepping forward. "As an omega, you're vulnerable now. Out there, in the field, you'll be a target in ways you weren't before. I can't let you—"

"No!" Jason's hands balled into fists, his entire body shaking with the intensity of his rage. "You don't get to make that call for me! Being Robin was everything to me, and now you're telling me I'm too weak? Too vulnerable?"

Bruce's jaw tightened. He hadn't wanted it to go this way, but Jason wasn't seeing reason. "It's not about being weak, Jason, it's about keeping you alive." Alive and sound of mind because Bruce had nearly lost his son forever and he didn't think he could live with that again. Not ever again.

"No," Jason hissed, stepping closer, eyes locking onto Bruce's with defiance. "I can still fight, I can still protect this city—"

Before Bruce could stop himself, his voice shifted into a tone he rarely used—a tone that came from deep within, the commanding timbre of an alpha's voice, hard and undeniable. "Jason. Sit."

The words hit Jason like a physical blow, his body reacting instinctively before his mind had even caught up. He staggered backward, his legs buckling beneath him as he slumped into the chair. His chest heaved, his eyes wide in disbelief, the shock of what just happened dawning on him.

For a beat, the cave was silent, save for the erratic sound of Jason's breathing as he realized what Bruce had done. His entire body shook with the effort of holding back his emotions, but Bruce could see the devastation creeping into Jason's face—the humiliation, the anger, the raw sense of betrayal.

Jason's voice was trembling, but it dripped with venom. "You just used your alpha voice on me." It wasn't a question. It was a cold, furious statement.

Bruce froze. He hadn't even realized he'd done it, but the truth was undeniable. The weight of it crashed down on him like a tidal wave. "Jason—"

"Don't," Jason growled, standing up so fast he nearly knocked the chair over. "You don't get to control me like that. Not you, Bruce. Not you!" His eyes flashed with fury, but underneath the anger was a deep, painful betrayal.

"I didn't mean—" Bruce started, but Jason cut him off, stepping forward with barely controlled rage.

"You didn't mean to?" Jason's voice rose with fury. "You just proved my point! You think I'm weak. You think I'm nothing now. You just wanted to show me that I have no control, didn't you?" His breathing was ragged, each word laced with venom.

Bruce felt a cold lump form in his chest. He had tried to protect Jason, to keep him safe, but in that moment, he realized just how much damage he'd done. "That's not what I—"

"No!" Jason shouted, his voice shaking. "You think you can just tell me what to do, control me, just because I'm an omega now? You think I'll just roll over and obey you?"

Bruce took a step back, his heart sinking. He had made a terrible mistake. "Jason, I was just trying to protect you," he said quietly, his voice hollow.

"Protect me?" Jason laughed bitterly, the sound cold and sharp. "You're trying to control me, Bruce. Just like everyone else will now. You're no better than them."

Bruce's heart clenched. The words cut deeper than any blade. "I'm trying to keep you safe," he said softly, but the words felt weak, inadequate.

Jason shook his head, his voice hoarse. "You don't get to decide what's safe for me anymore. You don't get to take everything from me." His eyes were filled with a mix of fury and pain, and it was that pain that hit Bruce the hardest.

"I didn't—"

"No," Jason interrupted, his voice quieter now but no less intense. "You did. You already took it, Bruce. They took everything from me. Everything! And the one thing I thought I had left; you took that away from me too. You're just as bad as the men who took me"

Bruce stood frozen, watching as Jason backed away from him, his face contorted in a mixture of rage and anguish. Bruce had been prepared for Jason's anger, for his defiance, but he hadn't been prepared for this—this deep sense of loss and betrayal that poured off of Jason in waves.

Jason took another step back, his fists still clenched, his body trembling. "I'll never be Robin again. Because you won't let me." His voice cracked, and for a moment, Bruce saw the boy Jason had once been—hurt, broken, but trying so hard to be strong.

Bruce tried to speak, but no words came. He had made the choice for Jason, thinking it was the right one, but now he wasn't sure. Now, all he saw was the damage that choice had caused.

Jason turned away, his shoulders hunched in defeat. "I'll never forgive you for this," he whispered, his voice barely audible but sharp as a knife.

Bruce stood there, helpless, as Jason walked away from him, the weight of his mistake pressing down on him like a crushing burden. He wanted to reach out, to say something that would make it all better, but he knew there was nothing he could say.

Jason stormed toward the elevator, his steps heavy with anger and frustration. His fists were clenched, his posture tense, and the air around him seemed charged with the weight of his emotions. Bruce watched helplessly as Jason moved further away, the realization of his mistake sinking in deeper with every step.

"Jason—" Bruce called after him, but Jason didn't turn around. The elevator door slid open with a quiet hiss, and without looking back, Jason stepped inside. The doors closed behind him, the sound echoing through the cavernous Batcave like the finality of a slammed door.

Bruce stood there for a long moment, his mind racing, his heart heavy. His hands fell to his sides, feeling useless and weighted by his own actions. He had lost Jason all over again, not to some villain or tragic accident, but to his own failure to understand—his failure to protect Jason in the way he truly needed.

Bruce turned slowly, his eyes meeting J'onn's across the cave. The Martian stood a few feet away, his expression as impassive as always, but there was something behind his eyes—disappointment, perhaps even sadness. He stepped forward, and when he spoke, his voice was calm but filled with a quiet reproach.

"You've done him a great disservice, Batman," J'onn said softly, his tone measured but firm.

Bruce's fists clenched at his sides again, a mix of anger and regret bubbling up within him. "I was trying to protect him," Bruce replied, but even to his own ears, the words sounded hollow.

J'onn shook his head slowly. "Protect him from what? From the world that will already try to control him at every turn? From his own desire to make decisions for himself? You forced him, Batman. You proved what he feared the most—that he has no control over his own life anymore."

Bruce's shoulders slumped, his chest tightening with the weight of J'onn's words. He knew the Martian was right. His alpha voice, used without thinking, had taken away Jason's agency in that moment, reinforcing the very thing Jason had been fighting against.

"I didn't mean to," Bruce said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I just wanted him to understand."

J'onn's gaze softened, but his tone remained firm. "Jason already understood, Batman. He knows better than anyone what his new reality means. What he needed from you wasn't control. He needed understanding. Compassion. And you gave him neither."

Bruce felt a pang of guilt twist in his gut. He had been so focused on keeping Jason safe, on trying to shield him from the dangers of the world, that he had overlooked the one thing Jason needed most—his freedom. Even in this new, harsh reality, Jason had wanted to prove he still had choices, still had strength. And Bruce had taken that from him.

"I've failed him again," Bruce murmured, his voice tight with regret.

J'onn stepped closer, his gaze steady. "It is not too lateYou can still make this right. But you must be willing to see Jason as he is, not as someone to protect or control, but as someone who needs to find his own way."

Bruce looked down at the floor, the weight of J'onn's words pressing on him. He had always seen himself as the protector, the one who could shield those he loved from harm. But in this case, his need to protect had pushed Jason further away, had hurt him in ways Bruce hadn't anticipated

J'onn sighed, watching Bruce process the weight of his failure. His presence was calm but firm, the same unyielding support he'd always been. After a long moment, J'onn took a step closer, his voice softer but still carrying the gravity of the situation.

"Batman, I don't disagree with you," he, choosing his words carefully. "Jason can't be Robin anymore. Not as an omega. You were right about the dangers—it would be reckless, even deadly for him to return to the field like this."

Bruce's gaze flicked up to meet J'onn's, the words hitting him hard even though they echoed his own thoughts. He didn't want to hear it, but deep down, he knew it was true.

J'onn continued, his tone shifting to something more compassionate. "But the way you delivered that truth, Bruce… it was wrong. Jason needed to hear the reasons, not just be commanded into submission. You should have given him the chance to grieve what he's lost, to come to grips with the horrors he lived through, to understand it on his own terms. Instead, you took that choice away."

Bruce's jaw clenched as he absorbed the rebuke. "I was trying to keep him alive," he muttered, his voice low and strained. "He's my son, J'onn. I couldn't lose him again."

"I know," J'onn said, his voice filled with understanding. "But by trying to control his future, you've pushed him further away. Jason is grieving. He's angry, confused, and most of all, terrified of what he's become. He needed you to be his father in that moment, not Batman."

Bruce closed his eyes, the weight of J'onn's words pressing down on him like an avalanche. The roles of protector and father were always so closely intertwined, and yet here, he had failed in both.

"I thought I could shield him from the worst of it," Bruce said quietly, almost to himself. "I thought I could make it easier for him to accept."

"You can't," J'onn responded gently. "Jason must come to terms with his new reality in his own time. He needs to understand that while his role as Robin may be over, he is not without worth. But that's something he has to realize on his own."

Bruce opened his eyes and looked toward the elevator, where Jason had disappeared moments ago. "How can I make him see that?" he asked, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability.

"You start by giving him space," J'onn said simply. "Let him process his grief, his anger. And when he's ready, be there for him. Not as the man who commands him, but as the father who loves him unconditionally."

Bruce stood in silence for a long moment, the air in the cave heavy with regret. He had tried so hard to protect Jason from the world, from the pain and danger it held, but in doing so, he had become part of what Jason feared the most—losing his freedom, his sense of self.

J'onn's voice broke through his thoughts once more, gentle but firm. "There is still time to fix this, Bruce. But first, you have to accept that Jason's life is his own. And no amount of protection will ever change that. You have to give him what little autonomy you can because the word surely will not"

Bruce nodded slowly, the truth of J'onn's words sinking in. He had tried to shield Jason from the inevitable, to hold onto him so tightly that he hadn't realized he was suffocating him. Now, all he could do was wait for Jason to come back—if he ever would.

"I'll wait," Bruce said quietly, more to himself than to J'onn. "I'll give him the space he needs."

J'onn nodded, his expression softening. "That's all he needs right now, Bruce. Space—and the knowledge that when he's ready, you'll be there. Not as Batman, but as his father."

Bruce felt a deep ache settle in his chest. He had always thought he could protect Jason from everything, but now, he understood that some battles were Jason's to fight alone. And for the first time in a long while, Bruce wasn't sure if he could win this one.

J'onn turned to leave, sensing that Bruce needed time alone with his thoughts. "He's stronger than you think," J'onn said before departing. "And so are you."

Bruce watched as J'onn disappeared into the shadows, leaving him alone in the silence of the Batcave. The echoes of their conversation lingered in the air, and for the first time, Bruce allowed himself to face the reality he had been trying so hard to avoid.

Jason was an omega now, and nothing Bruce could do would change that. But as J'onn had said, Jason was still Jason—strong, defiant, and capable of forging his own path.

Bruce only hoped that when the time came, he could be the father Jason needed and not the one who had tried to control him.

The Batcave fell into silence once again, the only sound the distant drip of water echoing in the shadows. And Bruce, for all his strength, felt powerless to do anything but wait.