Dick was tangled up in a mess of emotions, like a shadow he couldn't shake off. Losing Batman, another father figure and family member, had really knocked him off balance. Night after night, the darkness turned into a stage for his nightmares—flashes of his parents' deaths, haunting memories of Jason's end—these images tormented him when the world was silent. Sleep, which used to be a refuge, now felt like it was slipping away, just out of reach.
By day, Dick went through the motions, moving on autopilot. Every smile and every quick move seemed to carry a hint of disbelief. Batman, who was supposed to be this unstoppable force, this symbol of strength, wasn't meant to fall. As days rolled by in a monotonous grind, Dick was not just grappling with Batman's loss but also with a sense of helplessness that came with it.
The realization hit him hard. Being the oldest in the Bat-Family, he now had this heavy responsibility on his shoulders, a constant reminder of duty. Standing at the edge of a role he never wanted, the cowl of Batman seemed to loom over him like a ghost of obligation. Grief was already heavy enough, but now he faced this new burden—becoming Batman. It wasn't something he had sought; in fact, he'd spent years carving out his own path, trying to distance himself from Batman's shadow. Nightwing had been his way of saying, "I'm my own person."
Now, thrust back into this role he'd fought hard to escape, Dick wrestled with the idea of taking over for Batman. The thought of anyone else in the Bat-Family shouldering that weight was unbearable. Cass, Tim, Steph—they all had their own battles and Dick couldn't stand the thought of them dealing with the crushing expectations that came with the cowl.
The responsibility of protecting and guiding his siblings was already huge, but now it came with the deep fear of losing them too. The nights stretched long ahead, and the city that was once watched over by Batman and his partner now needed just one guardian. And that guardian was Dick Grayson. Despair crept in as he faced the reality of becoming Batman, a role he had resisted. It felt like a step back, a return to a place he'd worked hard to leave behind. The freedom Nightwing represented now felt like a far-off dream.
The doorbell ringing broke through his turbulent thoughts. Alfred was busy in the kitchen, so Dick had to get up and answer it. Since Batman's passing, unplanned visits had become common, with the extended family of vigilantes, heroes, and allies dropping by to check in and offer their support.
Nobody showed up to check on them. It was pretty clear they were not okay.
As Dick made his way to the door, he ran through the usual suspects in his mind—the Titans, the Teen Titans, the Justice League, and even the Gotham Sirens who'd drop by during their patrols. But nothing could prepare him for the surprise waiting on the other side.
When he opened the door, the creak seemed to echo in the stillness. There, standing right in front of him, was someone he'd never expected to see again. Dick's face went through a whirlwind of emotions as he tried to wrap his head around it.
"Little Wing?" Dick stammered, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. The flood of old memories and the sheer surprise of seeing Jason Todd was almost too much.
His eyes went wide, his jaw dropped, and before he knew it, his legs gave out. In a move that seemed straight out of a drama, Dick Grayson, once the agile acrobat and seasoned hero, just fainted right there in the doorway.
Jason watched as Dick Grayson lay sprawled on the floor, looking like he'd been knocked out cold by the mere sight of him. Jason sighed, a mix of amusement and exasperation on his face. He'd expected Dick to be shocked, but this was over the top even for him. Dick fainting at seeing his supposedly dead little brother was classic Dick Grayson—dramatic to the end. Despite everything, it was kind of comforting to see that some things never changed.
Damian, standing off to the side, raised an eyebrow. He looked like he couldn't be less impressed by the whole scene. He'd always had a knack for staying calm, no matter how crazy things got. Billy, still new to the Wayne family dynamics, turned to Jason with a concerned look. "Do you think he's okay?"
Jason, used to the dramatic flair of his family, gave Billy a reassuring smile. "He'll be fine. Dick's just being his usual drama queen self. Just give him a minute to snap out of it."
With a chuckle, Jason bent down to lift his unconscious brother and carried him to the living room. Alfred chose this exact moment to walk in, and his timing couldn't have been more perfect—or more off. His eyes widened in shock as he saw Jason laying Dick down on the sofa. "What's going on here?" Alfred's voice was a mix of astonishment and confusion.
The old butler stood there, frozen, staring at Jason. His face showed a mix of shock and overwhelming emotion as he saw his long-lost grandson standing right there. "M-Master J-Jason?" Alfred stuttered, his voice trembling.
Jason, usually so cool and composed, felt a lump in his throat seeing Alfred's reaction. His smile, though present, was strained as he said, "Hey, Alfie. It's really good to see you again."
As Alfred took in the sight of Jason, the shock on his face quickly gave way to a mix of emotions. First came disbelief, then a surge of joy, with a touch of sadness for the lost years. Alfred moved across the room in a flash, his steps quickened by the urge to bridge the gap with the grandson he thought he'd never see again. When they hugged, the warmth lingered, and as they pulled apart, Alfred's eyes glistened with a cocktail of relief, joy, and the sting of lost time. Jason, on the other hand, felt a rush of gratitude and a pang of regret for the years he'd missed.
Jason took a moment to get his bearings, looking around at the familiar but now strangely distant Wayne Manor. The old furniture and elegant decor seemed frozen in time. "Alfie," Jason said, his tone carrying more weight than a simple greeting, "I never meant to disappear like that. I had my own stuff to deal with." His eyes hinted at the struggles he'd faced.
Alfred, ever the steady presence, nodded with understanding. "Master Jason, life rarely goes in a straight line. We all have our battles, and it seems you've faced yours."
Jason gave a wry smile, appreciating Alfred's lack of judgment. "Yeah, demons have a way of sticking around. But I've learned to deal with them, or rather, to get rid of them. They don't control me anymore, not literally or figuratively."
"So, how's it been here without me?" Jason asked, genuinely curious.
Alfred's gaze softened as he spoke about the challenges the Wayne family faced during Jason's absence. The house felt emptier without him, and the missing second son left a noticeable gap. "There were times, Master Jason, when I thought I'd failed you," Alfred admitted, a hint of regret in his voice. "I should have done more to bridge that gap."
Jason shook his head, understanding the weight Alfred carried. "Nah, Alfie, everyone's got their role. You've kept things together, and I can see that." His eyes showed a new appreciation for the man who had been a constant in the chaos.
Alfred's attention then shifted to the two boys who had been hanging close to Jason. His gaze lingered on the youngest, who looked strikingly like Bruce, except for the coloring. Alfred's sharp eyes caught the familiar emerald eyes. "Master Jason, could you introduce us properly? I'm sure I taught you better manners than this, young man."
"Right," Jason laughed. "These are my little brothers, Damian Alfred Head and William Joseph Head. We all share the same mom, even if some of us were adopted." He paused, took a deep breath, and gathered himself. "Dami's the son of Talia and Bruce. I met him after Talia took me in and helped me out. Billy, we found when we moved to Fawcett City."
"Nice to meet you, Mister Alfred," Damian and Billy said together, and Alfred couldn't help but smile with pride at the polite boys.
Alfred looked from one young face to the other, his gaze filled with more than just recognition—it was acceptance. "So, these are my grandsons?" His voice was warm, showing how much this reunion meant to him. "Welcome home, Master Damian, Master William."
Damian and Billy, usually reserved, let tiny smiles sneak onto their faces. They could feel the tension in Jason easing up with Alfred's presence.
Jason grinned at the whole scene. "Yeah, Alfie, they're a handful, but they're family."
"Hey!" Billy pouted.
Damian rolled his eyes. "We should be the ones saying that, Mister Trouble Magnet."
Alfred, never one to dwell on sentimentality, shifted to curiosity. "Fawcett City, huh? Does that mean you're Jason Alexander Head, the famous author Tim's always raving about? And Damian and William are Jon's friends from Fawcett City?"
Jason chuckled, impressed with Alfred's quick deductions. "That's right, Alfie. We've been keeping a low profile, but we're still around."
Alfred's gaze sharpened with interest. "So how did no one spot you? You've crossed paths with various Justice League members and kept in touch with the Kent Family."
Jason pulled out a ruby and gold necklace from his pocket. It shimmered with a hint of magic. "Magic," he said simply, watching Alfred's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
The usually unflappable butler blinked in shock. "So, you're also the Red Ghoul?" His tone was a mix of surprise and admiration.
Jason's smirk turned sharp, embracing his new role. "The one and only."
Dick jolted awake with a gasp, taking a moment to look around before slumping back on the sofa. It was a dream. Just a damn dream. People don't come back to life. That's not how it works. But before he could wallow in his disappointment, the door to the living room burst open, and Jason swaggered in, whistling like he owned the place.
Dick's shock quickly flipped to a tidal wave of emotions. He bolted upright, staring at Jason as if trying to convince himself this was real. The dream's sadness lingered for a second, then was replaced by a joy so overwhelming it nearly made him cry. Jason, however, looked completely unfazed. With his usual smirk, he teased, "So, the sleeping beauty finally wakes up?"
Dick couldn't even manage a response. He kept his eyes locked on Jason, searching for any hint of a trick or cruel illusion. Then, as if to prove his reality, Jason set down a tray of chili dogs and iced tea right in front of him. Stammering, Dick managed to croak out, "Little Wing? You're alive?"
Jason, grinning like a cat that got the cream, threw his arms wide. "In the flesh! Just try not to faint on me again, Dickface."
In a flash, Dick was in Jason's arms, hugging him tightly. The years of longing and grief melted away, replaced by the overwhelming relief of having his little brother back.
"I missed you so much, Little Wing!" Dick's voice was a mix of joy and tears.
Jason's smirk softened into a real smile as he hugged back. The years apart seemed to vanish in that warm embrace. "I missed you too, Dickie."
The joy that surged through Dick was like a sunbeam cutting through dark clouds. His little brother, whom he had mourned and thought was lost forever, was right there with him. The relief and happiness filled him up, making everything else fade away for a while. It was like finding a piece of his heart he'd thought was gone forever.
As the initial euphoria faded, Dick was hit by a wave of confusion. Jason was supposed to be dead, buried six feet under. Dick had mourned him, accepted the loss, and tried to move on with life. Or at least, he had tried. Seeing his little brother back from the dead was like a punch to the gut, making him question everything he thought he knew.
Guilt kicked in next, wrapping around Dick like a heavy cloak. Jason had died, and Dick felt responsible. The guilt was like a ghost, haunting him with reminders of what he thought he could have done better. Seeing Jason alive stirred that old pain all over again. How could he have mourned his brother when, all this time, Jason had been out there somewhere?
But then, amid the chaos of feelings, relief took center stage. It was like a warm, soothing wave that washed away the confusion and guilt. The fact that Jason was back, against all odds, was a comfort that Dick clung to. The grief that had weighed him down was replaced by the incredible joy of having his Little Wing back. The hug between them felt like an anchor, holding him steady as he tried to process the whirlwind of emotions.
Once they settled on the sofa, the mood in the room shifted. They kicked back with iced teas and chili dogs, the simple comfort of familiar food grounding them in the here and now. The clinking of glasses and plates filled the space until Dick couldn't hold back his questions any longer.
"So, how?" Dick asked, his voice full of wonder and confusion. Jason knew exactly what he meant—how had he come back from the dead?
Jason sighed, ready to dive into the story. "Well, when I said Robin gave me magic, I didn't realize how literal that was."
Dick's eyes widened. "Magic? You've got magic?" His voice was a mix of disbelief and amazement, which only made Jason laugh.
"Yeah, I know, right? I was just as shocked!" Jason's laughter faded into a serious look. "I died, but somehow, my soul stuck around. My body was gone, but my soul was still hanging out. Turns out, I'm a natural necromancer. Untrained, mind you, which is why I woke up in my coffin, just kind of stuck there."
Dick's face shifted from shock to horror. "Oh, Little Wing... I'm so sorry."
Jason shook his head, dismissing the guilt. "It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault but the Joker's." The mention of the Joker cast a shadow over both their faces, a shared darkness that tied them together.
As Jason kept talking, the room felt like it was holding its breath. He talked about stumbling around Gotham like a zombie until Talia found him. Then came Nanda Parbat, the Lazarus Pits, and an unexpected new family chapter.
"Wait," Dick's eyes went wide. "You're the Red Ghoul?!" The pieces fell into place. Jason nodded, looking steady. "And you didn't come back because you hate us."
Jason sighed, shaking his head. "No, Goldie, I don't hate you. Remember, Talia has two other sons. I have two younger brothers who count on me. When I woke up, I was furious—blame it on the Pits. I put revenge first and ended up hurting Damian. But when Talia put me in charge of him, I had to prioritize him. And when Billy came along, that feeling only grew. How could I come back after finding out he'd lost another Robin? Lucky Blondie made it, but that case still stands. How could I return when Batman keeps putting kids like them in danger?"
Jason's words hung heavy, a stark reminder of their tough reality.
"When we were kids, you used to call me 'Golden Boy.' Bruce always compared us, and even if he didn't mean to, it stung. It felt like I was this benchmark you had to measure up to. Over time, it became a running joke between us, but that feeling of not quite measuring up never fully went away.
"It hurt, too, because, let's be real, gold is soft. People can test its purity by making a mark on it. I was the Golden Boy, but I'd buckle under pressure sometimes.
"But you, Jay? You were like steel—strong and unbreakable. You weren't something just stumbled upon; you were forged into something tougher than I ever was. I saw that and stepped aside to let you shine.
"Bruce's intensity was like a never-ending fire. I hit my breaking point with it. I needed to change, become someone else. I've always been adaptable and polished—good for rallying people, but maybe not the right fit for fixing a broken world.
"Then there's you, always standing strong with convictions sharp enough to cut through anything. Your spirit? Unbeatable. Even when that monster, the Clown, took you from us, he couldn't break you."
Dick reached out, finding Jason's shoulder and gripping it with a mix of relief and emotion. "You're not broken, Jay. You never were." He smiled genuinely. "Now, how about introducing me to Dami and Billy? I'm looking forward to getting to know my new little brothers!"
As Dick and Jason had their deep chat, the Wayne Manor kitchen was buzzing with activity. Damian and Billy, under Alfred's watchful eye, were handling the cooking like pros. Alfred was pleasantly surprised by their skills, especially Damian's. Given Bruce's aversion to the kitchen and his strict "no entry" rule, Alfred hadn't expected much from Damian. But here they were, clinking utensils and filling the kitchen with the mouthwatering scent of something delicious. The boys' baking skills were impressive, even outshining Alfred's own.
A smile crept across Alfred's face as he realized that Damian and Billy weren't just flukes in the kitchen—they were continuing a family tradition. Jason had always loved cooking, and Alfred had fond memories of him baking up a storm. Those moments, when Jason would whip up sweet treats that brought smiles to everyone, were some of Alfred's favorites. Seeing Damian and Billy carrying on that tradition was a bittersweet reminder of the past.
As the smell of Banoffee pie filled the room, Damian, looking a bit unsure, asked Alfred with a hopeful glance from Billy, "Can you tell me more about the Wayne family? I know a lot about the Al Ghul side—both the magical and the League of Shadows stuff—but I don't know much about my dad's side. Umi and akhi didn't talk about it much… it seemed to upset them."
The mention of umi and akhi—Damian's terms for his mother and brother—added a layer of emotion to his question. Alfred felt a pang in his chest. Damian's eyes, a mix of Bruce and Talia's traits, were full of curiosity and a bit of sadness. Alfred saw the unspoken need for connection, for understanding the family that had shaped his father and, in a way, him.
As Alfred thought about Gotham's trials—the heroes who rose and fell, the city's dark alleys echoing with the footsteps of those who fought to bring light—he remembered Dick's journey from Robin to Nightwing. Gotham had a way of shaping its people, either making them into heroes or breaking them.
As Alfred and the kids chatted, the Wayne Manor kitchen was buzzing with energy. Damian and Billy were whipping up a storm, moving around the kitchen with surprising skill. Alfred, initially taken aback by their cooking abilities, was now thoroughly impressed. After all, Bruce had never shown much interest in cooking, and Alfred had half-expected Damian to follow suit. But here were the boys, clinking utensils and filling the room with delicious smells. Their baking skills were top-notch, even better than Alfred's.
A smile spread across Alfred's face as he realized Damian and Billy weren't just good at cooking by chance—they were continuing a family tradition. Jason had always loved cooking, and Alfred had fond memories of him baking up treats that brought joy to everyone. Watching Damian and Billy carry on that tradition was a bittersweet reminder of the past.
As the kitchen filled with the aroma of Banoffee pie, Damian turned to Alfred with a mix of curiosity and apprehension, but with a bit of encouragement from Billy, he found the courage to ask, "Can you tell me more about the Wayne family? I know a lot about the Al Ghul side, but not much about my dad's side. Umi and akhi didn't talk about it much… it seemed to make them sad."
Alfred felt a pang at Damian's request. The boy's eyes, echoing Bruce and Talia, were full of longing. Alfred saw the unspoken need for connection and belonging. He thought about Gotham, a city that had shaped so many heroes and villains, and remembered Dick's journey from Robin to Nightwing. Gotham had a way of making or breaking its residents.
With a thoughtful nod, Alfred began, "Some of the oldest Waynes date back to the 18th Century—like General 'Mad' Anthony Wayne from the Revolutionary War, Herkimer Wayne who fought in the War of 1812, and Winslow Wayne who was alongside Teddy Roosevelt. There was also Silas Wayne, a Philadelphia silversmith who got caught up in a mess of accusations. Benjamin Franklin cleared his name, but the document was lost when Silas died young. Bruce eventually found it and got it into a museum."
Damian's face darkened with anger. "How could anyone try to push my family out of our city?!"
Billy gave him a playful nudge to lighten the mood. "At least your dad cleared Silas's name."
Alfred chuckled at their reactions, reminded of how much they were like Jason and Dick when they were younger. "Dr. Thomas Wayne was Bruce's dad and a great doctor. He was murdered by Joe Chill, which led to Martha dying of a heart attack. Bruce was left an orphan. Thomas focused on healing people, and Martha managed Wayne Enterprises and did philanthropy. Bruce honored them by opening the Thomas Wayne Memorial Hospital and the Martha Wayne Foundation."
The conversation paused as the pie was ready, and the kitchen buzzed with the sounds of setting the table. Cass and Steph were out at the Clocktower, Tim was with the Teen Titans, so it was a cozy dinner for just Damian, Billy, Jason, and Dick. Alfred was glad the rest of the family didn't yet know about the new additions.
When Dick and Jason joined the table, the joy in Dick's eyes warmed Alfred's heart. The room, once quiet, was now filled with laughter and life. As they dug into the Banoffee pie, every bite was met with delight, and the room echoed with new laughter and stories, breaking the long-held silence after Bruce's death.
After making sure Damian and Billy were settled into their new rooms, Alfred, Dick, and Jason headed into the Wayne Manor library. Alfred was clutching his classic martini, Dick was casually holding a beer, and Jason sipped on his Arak. The chandelier's soft glow warmed the room, setting the mood for what promised to be a serious talk.
Alfred adjusted his glasses and broke the silence. "Looks like Damian and Billy are settling in just fine."
Dick, still buzzing from the dinner, grinned. "Yeah, they're blending right in. Feels like they've always been part of the family."
Jason swirled his drink thoughtfully and finally spoke up, his tone serious. "I know it's been a while since we've had a family talk, but there's some stuff we need to get into."
Alfred, sensing the shift in mood, set his martini down. "Alright, Jason. We're all ears."
Jason took a deep breath, his eyes moving from the ornate fireplace to Alfred and Dick. "The League of Shadows has grown bigger than you might think. They've wiped out the Court of Spiders and taken down Deathstroke."
Dick's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and worry in his eyes. "That's huge, Jay. What does that mean for us?"
Jason's expression turned serious. "It means there's a power vacuum, and it's causing chaos. With me tied up dealing with curses, demons, and the All-Caste's drama, another conflict is brewing beneath the surface. We're looking at a war with the Light."
Alfred's brow furrowed. "The Light? You mean the secretive organization that's been manipulating things for centuries?"
Jason nodded. "Exactly. Essence, the head of the All-Caste, summoned me for the final showdown. I took down a weakened Savage."
Dick leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "Is that why it took you so long to come back after Bruce's death?"
Jason's eyes darkened with unspoken turmoil. "Partly. I needed to make sure the threat was dealt with. But now, I'm back."
As Jason's revelation settled over the room, a heavy silence took hold. Dick, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, took a moment to absorb it all. Even though Jason had confessed to killing Savage, what Dick felt most was a wave of relief. Relief that The Light's threat was gone and Savage's dark influence wouldn't be hanging over them anymore.
Dick had never been as troubled by the idea of killing as Bruce had. The whole moral debate about lethal force hadn't stirred him up the way it did the Dark Knight. Some of his Titans buddies didn't hesitate to cross that line, and Dick, ever the pragmatist, was totally fine with it. As long as he didn't have to deal with the ethical mess that Bruce grappled with, he navigated the issue with ease.
It amused Dick to think about the irony of it all. Batman's strict no-kill rule often got undercut by the very alliances Bruce forged with heroes who didn't have a problem ending lives. Diana, for example, would often deal a fatal blow to her enemies. Dick found it funny, considering Bruce's unwavering stance against killing. But he'd long since accepted that his second dad had a bit of hypocrisy in him.
Alfred, sipping his martini, was unfazed by the whole thing. Having served in the British army, he had a more practical take on the necessity of lethal force. He knew from experience that the world wasn't just black and white but full of gray areas. Alfred had made peace with the grim realities of such situations a long time ago.
What went unsaid between the three was the mystery of the Joker's death. The infamous villain, who had caused so much pain for the Wayne family, had been gone for years. Neither Dick nor Alfred brought up the details with Jason, though they knew he had them. The Joker's demise was a chapter they were happy to leave closed. They were more focused on the fact that he could no longer disrupt their lives.
Feeling the heavy silence, Jason decided to lighten the mood. He turned to Dick with a determined look. "Hey, don't sweat it, Dickface. I've got a plan to cover up Batman's absence and keep you as Nightwing."
Despite his issues with Bruce, Jason wasn't about to let Batman's shadow crush his Big Bird. And he knew Gotham needed the Bat's presence to avoid chaos.
Dick's eyes shifted from deep thought to curiosity. "Really? What's the plan, Little Wing?"
Jason leaned in, resting his elbows on the table. "Magic, Big Bird. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. I'll cast an illusion spell so the non-magical folks don't get too nosy. They'll think Batman's still out there doing his thing, and Gotham will be none the wiser."
Dick raised an eyebrow, a mix of doubt and intrigue. "Magic, huh? I've always had a hard time wrapping my head around that."
Jason chuckled. "Yeah, it's a whole different world, but trust me, it's useful. We'll make sure Gotham still feels Batman's presence, even if it's just a trick of the light."
Alfred, giving a nod of approval, added, "A clever solution, Master Jason. Your magical skills are quite handy."
Jason beamed at the praise from Alfred. "Thanks, Alfie. I've picked up a few things over the years."
Dick's skepticism softened into a grin as he raised his beer in a mock salute. "Well, if anyone can pull off magic for the Bat, it's you, Little Wing." He chuckled, remembering the famous line from the second Robin, "Robin gives me magic." "Let's keep the legend alive."
Jason returned the salute with a confident grin. "You bet, Big Bird. Gotham's not ready to lose its Dark Knight just yet."
Alfred looked at the two of them with pride, seeing how they blended their strengths so well.
As Jason and Alfred continued chatting about magic, Dick found himself lost in thought. He took a sip of his beer, letting the coolness provide a brief distraction. His eyes wandered over the library's shelves, filled with countless books. In the quiet, Dick's mind spun with thoughts about his years under Batman's shadow and how that enigmatic figure had shaped him.
Dick leaned back in his chair, tracing the condensation on his beer glass. The library, bathed in the soft glow of the chandelier, felt like a cocoon of memories. Leading the Bat-family had always been a heavy load, especially since Bruce's death. The thought of stepping into Batman's shoes had felt overwhelming, but with Jason's magical solution, a wave of relief washed over him.
Suddenly, Dick saw a different path ahead. One where he could protect Gotham, uphold justice, and lead the Bat-family, all without the shadow of Batman hanging over him. A smile tugged at his lips as he thought about the freedom this gave him. He marveled at Jason's cleverness and appreciated how his younger brother's magic offered a way for Dick to honor the Bat's legacy in his own way. Nightwing could continue to stand for independence and strength.
"This is it," Dick thought. "I'll stay in Gotham. The city needs someone to lead the Bat-family, and I'll do it on my terms, as Nightwing." Gratitude swelled in him as he glanced at Jason, who was deep in animated conversation with Alfred. The burden of Batman's absence was lifting, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose. "Thanks, Little Wing," Dick thought, his eyes lingering on Jason. "You've given me a way to keep going without the Bat's shadow. Gotham will still have its protector, just in a different way."
"What are you going to do now, Master Jason?" Alfred's question broke Dick's reverie. "Are you staying?"
Jason's smile was tinged with sadness as he shrugged. "You know I can't, Alfie."
"W-why not?!" Dick's eyes widened in shock. "I just got you back!"
"I'm not disappearing, Dickface," Jason said, nudging him comfortingly. "But I've kept Damian and Billy out of the hero business for years. They need to focus on school and being kids. Damian's starting his second year at the Nanda Parbat Academy for Magic, and Billy's entering his fourth. I need to be there for Billy especially, since he's got big exams coming up."
"Nanda Parbat Academy for Magic?" Dick echoed, trying to process it.
Jason laughed, surprised. "Yeah, I haven't mentioned it, but I figured Big Bat would know the League of Shadows moved their headquarters."
"Master Bruce was looking into that before Darkseid," Alfred said, making both boys pause.
"Right," Jason said, finishing his Arak and heading for another glass. "After T won the war against Ra's, she decided the League needed a fresh start. So, she moved their headquarters to Infinity Island, which is Al Ghul property. She handed over Nanda Parbat to her kids, and we opened a magic school. There weren't many options for magical education in Asia."
"You've always been a nerd, Little Wing," Dick said with a warm smile. "I've never met a kid who loved studying as much as you."
"I'm so proud, Master Jason," Alfred said with pride in his voice, beaming at his grandson.
Jason blushed under the praise. "Oh, stop it!" He threw himself into an armchair, trying to escape Dick's enthusiastic hugs. "I wish I could stay longer, but I need to head back to Fawcett City. I've got tons of work at Fawcett University and I'm only halfway through my next novel. My editor is on my case to finish it before the semester ends. It's not easy being a novelist, professor, scriptwriter, and guardian for two boys all at once. And that woman is terrifying!"
"Wait, you're a novelist and a professor?" Dick exclaimed, beaming. "Have I read anything of yours?"
"Yep, my civilian name is Jason Alexander Head," Jason said casually.
"You mean the award-winning author who has Baby Bird raving? I'm so proud!" Dick squealed, hugging Jason tightly, who tried but failed to push him off. Then Dick suddenly pulled away, his face going pale. "Jason Alexander Head… as in the professor ROY HARPER HAS BEEN CRUSHING ON?!"
In the Batcave, the steady hum of the Batcomputer filled the room as Black Bat and Spoiler stared at the screen, their faces a mix of confusion and intrigue. The monitor displayed something they hadn't expected—DNA results confirming that Jason Peter Todd, the second Robin, was also the enigmatic Red Ghoul.
Cassandra's sharp eyes moved quickly over the data. She'd always been connected to the Bat-family, but Jason's return had been a mystery she couldn't crack. She'd trained near the memorial dedicated to the fallen Robin, and now, everything was falling into place. Jason's comeback explained the damage that had left its mark on the Batcave—the same damage that had once shattered the memorial. Spoiler, ever curious, felt a rush of mixed emotions. Jason was like a legend within the Bat-family, a Robin who had faced tragedy and now seemed to have returned from the dead.
Despite the importance of this discovery, Black Bat and Spoiler took it in stride. For them, Jason's return was a big deal but didn't hit home as much. They hadn't really known him, and his story had been more of a historical note than a personal connection.
Cassandra, who could read body language and unspoken feelings like no one else, felt a sense of closure with Jason's true identity revealed. She'd sensed there was more to the Red Ghoul than met the eye, and now, seeing the truth on the Batcomputer, she felt a wave of relief. Spoiler, caught between being a curious observer and acknowledging the bigger Bat-family drama, was eager to see what kind of chaos the Red Ghoul would stir up next.
Across the room, Oracle and Robin watched the Batcomputer's display with wide eyes. The revelation left them both stunned. Oracle, once Batgirl and Jason's mentor, felt her heart race with a whirlwind of emotions—joy, shock, and a deep sense of reunion. She'd been there for Jason's early days as Robin, patrolling the dark streets of Gotham with him. To her, Jason had always been like a little brother.
As the reality of Jason's return sank in, Oracle's eyes welled up with tears. Her job at the Gotham Public Library, a quiet nod to Jason's love for books, suddenly felt far more meaningful. Memories of their shared times—their tutoring sessions, laughter, and struggles—flooded back. This wasn't just the return of a vigilante; it was the return of her little brother, a piece of her past that she had grieved for so long.
The Batcomputer's soft glow made Oracle's face look almost ethereal as she whispered, "He's back, Tim. Jason's back."
Tim Drake's mind went into overdrive as he absorbed Oracle's news. The Batcave, usually a place of brooding silence, now buzzed with a charged energy that felt almost palpable.
Next to Oracle, Robin—Tim Drake himself—struggled to wrap his head around the revelation. He'd known Jason as Robin before stepping into the role himself after Jason's death. Jason's passing had shaken the Bat-family and changed things in ways they'd never fully understood.
Tim's confusion was clear on his face as he tried to make sense of the unexpected news. Jason, the second Robin, had been Tim's hero. He'd looked up to him and relished the rare moments when Jason would give him a nod during their civilian appearances. Jason's trademark smirk and wit had fueled Tim's ambition to live up to his predecessor's legacy.
But finding out that Jason was alive and living a double life as Jason Alexander Head, Tim's favorite author, didn't bring the thrill he'd expected. Instead, a cloud of uncertainty and old tensions hung heavy. Tim's hero worship was now clashing with the memories of the Red Ghoul, the harsh vigilante who had been critical and demeaning during their encounters. As Oracle quietly cried, reflecting her deep personal connection to Jason, Tim wrestled with his own mixed feelings. The admiration he once had for Jason as Robin now faced the reality of the Red Ghoul's harsh judgments.
Tim kept his eyes locked on the Batcomputer screen, where Jason Peter Todd's DNA results were glaringly displayed. The Batcave's solemn silence only seemed to deepen the emotional divide for Tim, caught between his hero worship and the scars from past criticisms.
Things got even more tense when Jason, Dick, and Alfred walked in. Jason was in his Red Ghoul gear but without his mask, and he seemed a mix of eager and nervous. When he saw Barbara in her wheelchair, his steps hesitated for a second before he moved in for a heartfelt hug. Barbara's eyes filled with tears as she embraced Jason, their reunion a warm contrast to the cool cave.
Spoiler and Black Bat followed, their greetings warm and full of genuine affection. Their interactions with Jason showed the complicated yet strong bonds within the Bat-family. But when Jason's gaze landed on Tim, the atmosphere changed. Tim's stance was tense, his face a mask of anger and mistrust. The air crackled with unease as the two locked eyes, the weight of their past encounters looming over the moment.
Dick, sensing the growing tension, jumped in, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on? This is Jason, your Robin, and the author you're always raving about. Why the hostility?"
Tim's scoff was filled with bitterness as he shot a harsh look at Jason. "He's the Red Ghoul—the same guy who ambushed me and my friends and had the nerve to call us child soldiers. Plus, he went after Batman too!"
Jason raised an eyebrow, defensively. "I only acted in self-defense. I was attacked first both times. I didn't start those fights."
The Batcave was thick with silence, the tension hanging heavy. What was supposed to be a happy reunion was now clouded by old conflicts and unresolved issues.
"You want me to stop being a vigilante while you keep putting yourself in danger. How is that not hypocritical?" Tim's voice rang out, full of pain and anger.
Jason, staying calm, tried to cut through the tension. "Let me ask you something, Tim. Should a kid have to work, earn money, and run a household?"
Tim, still fuming, snapped back, "No, but sometimes they do."
Jason took that chance to make his point. "Exactly. It's not healthy for kids to take on those responsibilities. They should get to be kids. Sure, they can do stuff, but they shouldn't have to. Adults are supposed to handle that. We both grew up way too fast, and it's tough. But now that I know better, I want to help you. You're a skilled fighter who wants to stop harm. That's great. But there are things you still need to learn—like cooking and laundry. Let the grown-ups handle the big stuff now."
Tim's frustration peaked as he shouted, "I hate this, and I hate you!"
Jason's reply was cold. "Good. Let that anger out."
"Fuck you!" Tim yelled, his words dripping with anger and confusion.
The Batcave fell into a heavy silence, the harsh words hanging in the air like a grim echo.