The dinner table buzzed with laughter and chatter as everyone enjoyed a mix of Lebanese and Vietnamese dishes. The air was filled with delicious aromas, making everyone's mouth water.

Lian and Billy were in the middle of a playful game, trying to sneak bites from each other's plates when the other wasn't looking. Their laughter filled the room, adding to the light-hearted atmosphere. Meanwhile, Damian, always the careful one, made sure his plate was strictly vegetarian. His love for animals was clear in his choices, and he wouldn't compromise his principles, no matter how tempting the food was.

Roy was spoon-feeding Jason, who put up a half-hearted protest, rolling his eyes but not really minding. The warmth between them was undeniable. As they shared stories and jokes, Jason couldn't help but feel grateful for the family around him. They all had their quirks, but in that moment, they were united by love and kinship, creating memories that would last forever.

After dinner, as they moved on to dessert, Roy looked around the group, beaming with pride. "Well done, everyone," he said, his voice full of genuine pride. "Another year, another round of stellar academic achievements. I couldn't be prouder of each and every one of you."

"Thanks, Dad!" Lian grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She had worked so hard all year, and being recognized for it meant the world to her. "I worked really hard, but it feels amazing to see it pay off."

"Indeed," Damian nodded, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He always prided himself on his intellect and academic skills. "I expect nothing less than excellence from myself."

Billy grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yeah, well, it helps when you've got the best teachers," he quipped, sending a playful wink Jason's way.

Jason chuckled, warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of their happy faces. "Well, I might be biased, but I like to think I've taught you a thing or two," he replied, his tone light and playful.

Roy watched them, pride swelling in his chest. These kids were his family, his pride and joy, and seeing them thrive brought him immense happiness. "You've all worked incredibly hard, and it's paid off. I couldn't be prouder."

As the conversation shifted to the new school year, Jason turned to Damian. "Have you chosen your electives for the third year at Nanda Parbat Academy for Magic?"

Damian nodded. "Yes, akhi. I selected Art Magic, Rituals & Curses, Apparition, and Magical Politics."

"Art Magic, Rituals & Curses, Apparition, and Magical Politics," Jason repeated, nodding in approval. "Solid choices, Damian. It's clear you've put a lot of thought into this."

Damian inclined his head, a determined glint in his eyes. "I have," he said firmly. "I believe these subjects will provide me with a well-rounded education and prepare me for the challenges ahead."

Roy chimed in, his expression thoughtful. "Art Magic makes sense," he mused. "You've always had a talent for it. And Magical Politics... well, that's a given considering your lineage." He paused, a curious look on his face. "But Rituals & Curses? That's an interesting choice. Care to elaborate?"

"Given our family's situation," Damian explained, a serious note in his voice, "it's essential to know about various rituals and curses. You never know when that knowledge might come in handy."

"Wise thinking, Damian," Jason remarked, a smile tugging at his lips. "It's always better to be prepared for any situation."

Jason nodded, his gaze filled with pride and admiration for his brother's wisdom beyond his years. He might not like the idea of child soldiers, but if there was one thing he'd agree with Bruce on, it was the importance of always being prepared.

Dick walked down the winding stairs to the Batcave, feeling lighter and happier than he had in a long time. Every step he took seemed to lift the weight off his shoulders, replaced by a sense of hope for the future. Jason was back, Bruce was alive and safe, and for once, things felt like they were falling into place.

Reaching the bottom, Dick smiled as he saw Bruce finally giving Jason the space and privacy he deserved. It was a huge step for Bruce, showing he was growing as a father and a leader. Dick had braced himself to play peacekeeper between Jason and Bruce, but now, with Bruce's new understanding, Dick felt a freedom he hadn't experienced in years.

But then, his heart sank when he spotted Tim hunched over the Batcomputer. Despite the joy of having Bruce and Jason back, Tim's relentless pursuit of Jason's past gnawed at him. Tim's return from his crazy journey through the timestream had brought a new determination to uncover the mysteries of Jason's life. He spent hours on the computer, digging into every piece of information he could find about Jason's past, almost obsessively.

For Dick, it was frustrating and worrisome. He got that Tim needed answers, driven by his insatiable curiosity. But Jason had asked for space and privacy, and Dick couldn't shake the feeling that Tim's investigation was crossing a line. He worried it would reopen old wounds for Jason or worse, push him away completely.

Watching Tim furrow his brow in concentration, fingers flying over the keyboard, Dick felt torn. He wanted to tell Tim to stop, to respect Jason's boundaries. But he also knew Tim's intentions were good, aiming to protect their family from any hidden threats.

With a heavy sigh, Dick leaned against the Batcomputer console, his expression a mix of frustration and concern as he looked at Tim. This conversation felt like a broken record, and Dick couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu.

"Tim," Dick started, trying to keep his cool, "how many times do we have to go over this? Jason's back, he's safe, and he needs space. Can't you just let it go?"

Tim's fingers didn't stop moving on the keyboard. "I just don't buy it, Dick," he shot back. "Jason's past is full of secrets and half-truths. He's hiding something. I can feel it."

Dick ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Or maybe he's just trying to move on from all the pain and trauma. Ever think about that?"

Tim hesitated, doubt flickering in his eyes before he straightened up, looking more determined than ever. Dick sighed again. He got that Tim needed answers, but he also knew that letting paranoia take over could ruin everything they'd worked so hard to rebuild.

"Tim, I get it," Dick said, softening his tone. "But we can't keep dwelling on the past. Jason's here now, and he's trying to move forward. We owe it to him to respect that."

Tim's eyes stayed glued to the screen, his expression unreadable. "I just want to make sure we're not missing anything," he mumbled, mostly to himself.

Dick's heart ached seeing Tim like this, so worried and stressed out. He knew Tim was trying to protect their family, but digging up the past wasn't helping. With a heavy sigh, he put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "I know, Tim," he said gently. "But sometimes we just have to trust that things will work out."

Tim looked up, his gaze uncertain. But then his frustration bubbled over. "I can't just sit back and ignore this, Dick!" he said, his voice desperate. "There's something going on with Jason, something he's not telling us. I have to find out what it is!"

Dick felt his patience slipping. "And what if there is? What if there's nothing? What if Jason just wants some privacy, some space to figure things out on his own? You're suffocating him!"

Tim's jaw clenched. "I can't just do nothing, Dick," he said, his voice defiant. "Not when there's something off about Jason. I have to protect our family."

Dick's heart sank, seeing how stubborn Tim was being. The tension was thick, and he knew they couldn't keep fighting like this. "For God's sake, Tim! You need to listen to me!" Dick's voice echoed in the Batcave. "You can't keep digging into Jason's past like this. It's not healthy! You need help. Let us help you!"

Tim wasn't backing down. "I'm fine, Dick! I don't need your help or anyone else's. I can handle this!"

"Tim, please," Dick pleaded, his voice softer now. "I just want to help you. We all do. But you have to let us in."

Tim's face was a mix of anger and frustration as he spun around and stomped off, his footsteps echoing through the Batcave. Dick watched him go, feeling a mix of worry and frustration. He knew Tim was hurting, trying to make sense of a chaotic world, but Tim's stubbornness was driving a wedge between them.

Tim's relentless search for answers was driven by a fear of losing another loved one. Dick understood that, but Tim's stubbornness was his worst enemy, pushing away the help he needed. No matter how many times Dick tried to reach out, Tim just pushed him away, retreating into his own thoughts and fears. It was like trying to break through a brick wall.

Standing there in the dimly lit Batcave, Dick felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he hadn't handled things right. Maybe he'd been too harsh, too quick to anger. But how else could he get through to Tim? How else could he make him see that it was okay to ask for help, that he didn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders alone?

Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of it all. He wished there was an easy solution, a quick fix. But life wasn't that simple. Some problems couldn't be solved overnight. As he turned back to the Batcomputer, Dick knew he couldn't give up on Tim. No matter how many times they fought, Tim was family, and family stuck together, even when things got tough.

Determined, Dick decided to keep trying, to keep reaching out to Tim, no matter how many times he was pushed away. Family stood by each other, through thick and thin. Not wanting to let his little brother go, Dick rushed to catch up with Tim. He couldn't let Baby Bird keep running from this. Tim needed help, and Dick was going to make him see that.

"Why can't you just let me go?" Tim's jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides as he fought to control the torrent of emotions inside him. "I don't need help, Dick!" Tim's voice echoed through the cave, raw with anger and defiance. "I'm fine, okay? I can handle this on my own!"

"Tim, please," Dick said, his voice softer now, full of genuine concern. "You're not fine. You're hurting, and you're pushing everyone away because you're scared. I get it, I do. But you can't keep doing this to yourself."

Tim's breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to regain control. His hands trembled with pent-up frustration, and he felt the weight of Dick's words pressing down on him.

"I can't do this, Dick," Tim whispered, his voice barely audible. "I can't just sit back while Jason keeps secrets from us. I need to know the truth. I can't lose another family member. Mom's gone, Dad's gone, Bruce was lost, and we finally got everyone back... I can't lose anyone else..."

Dick's heart ached at the pain in Tim's voice. "You're not alone, Tim," he said softly. "We're in this together. But you have to let go of this obsession. Whatever Jason's hiding from his past has nothing to do with our safety, just like those things you experienced in the timestream that you keep to yourself. It's tearing you apart, and it's tearing us apart too."

Tim's shoulders slumped as he acknowledged the truth in Dick's words. He was tired—tired of the endless cycle of doubt and mistrust, tired of fighting a losing battle against his own fears. "I'm sorry, Dick," Tim murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I just... I don't know how to stop."

Dick moved closer, wrapping Tim in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, Tim," he whispered, holding his brother tight. "We'll figure it out together. I promise."

The atmosphere in the Wayne Manor library was relaxed and casual, a nice break from their usual chaos. Bruce was in his favorite armchair, swirling a glass of scotch, lost in thought as he watched the flames in the fireplace. Diana was lounging on the sofa nearby, looking elegant as ever with a glass of wine in her hand. She had a faint smile, enjoying the moment of peace. Clark was opposite Bruce, looking pretty chill with a beer. These get-togethers were a chance for him to unwind, away from the pressures of being Superman.

Bruce cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence. He looked at his two friends, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Did either of you... know? About Jason, I mean. Before Darkseid's attack."

Clark chuckled, shaking his head. "Not a clue, Bruce. Jason managed to keep his identity hidden from me for years. Quite the feat, really."

Diana nodded, her expression turning serious. "I had no idea either," she said, a bit of regret in her voice. "It wasn't until after your presumed death that the truth came to light."

Bruce took a sip of his scotch, contemplating their responses. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he mused. "Jason always did have a knack for keeping secrets. He was the best at undercover out of all my kids."

Clark laughed softly. "He definitely had us all fooled," he said, smiling. "But I suppose that's what makes him a true detective's son."

Diana nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Jason's resilience and resourcefulness are a testament to his upbringing."

Bruce felt a bit of the weight lift off his shoulders. "Thank you," he said quietly. "For being there for him when I couldn't. It means more than you know."

Clark's eyes softened with empathy. "It was a lot to take in," he admitted. "Discovering that Jason was alive, after everything... It was a shock."

Diana looked pained. "To think he had been suffering in silence all those years, without our knowledge... It weighs heavily on me."

Bruce's heart ached seeing his friends' remorse. "It's not your fault," he reassured them. "We were all dealing with our own battles. We couldn't have known."

Clark smiled warmly. "You know, Bruce, Diana always had a special bond with Jason, and I've always been closer to Dick. But getting to know Jason as Jason Alexander Head, he became more than just a nephew. He became my friend."

Bruce felt a swell of pride and gratitude. Later, after Clark and Diana had left, Alfred came in to collect the glasses. His steady presence brought a sense of calm. Bruce turned to him, hesitation in his voice. "Alfred, do you think... do you think I'm doing the right thing by giving Jason the space he asked for?"

Alfred paused, meeting Bruce's gaze with understanding. He sighed gently before speaking. "Master Bruce, sometimes giving someone the space they need is the greatest gift you can offer."

Bruce nodded, his thoughts drifting. "I just want what's best for him."

"And that, Master Bruce, is precisely why I'm proud of the man you've become," Alfred said, smiling gently, his eyes filled with pride and affection.

Bruce hid his smile behind his coffee cup, listening to the usual morning sounds filling Wayne Manor. The clinking of cereal bowls and the shuffling of feet signaled the start of another day. First to appear was Dick, his cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the fatigue from last night's patrol. Despite the early hour, Dick's sunny smile never faltered as he chattered away, filling the room with his infectious energy.

As Dick helped himself to a second bowl of cereal, Tim stumbled into the dining room, looking more like a zombie than a teenager. He didn't even bother to open his eyes as he slumped into his chair. Alfred placed a cup of coffee in front of him, shooting him a disapproving look. Tim raised the cup to his lips with a sigh of relief, the warmth of the coffee seeping into his tired bones as he took a long sip.

Bruce's brow furrowed in concern as he noticed the subtle tension between Dick and Tim. He was the World's Greatest Detective, after all. This was more than just their differing opinions about Bruce's presumed death and return—it ran deeper, like an undercurrent of unresolved issues simmering beneath the surface.

The memory of his own twisted mind, manipulated to harm those he loved, still haunted Bruce. He shuddered at the thought of raising his fists against his own children, a betrayal that cut him to the core. He was eternally grateful to Jason for stopping him. That gratitude was mixed with pride—pride that his son could overpower him now. Though, it did push him to create contingency plans in case anything like the Dark Ranger ever happened to Jason.

But now, as he watched Dick and Tim, Bruce couldn't shake the feeling of unease. What had happened between them during his Justice League mission? Had there been an incident, a disagreement, that had driven a wedge between his sons? Bruce was determined to get to the bottom of it, his instincts kicking into overdrive. For now, they would carry on with breakfast, but as he watched his sons exchange cautious glances across the table, Bruce turned to Alfred with a subtle nod, silently conveying his intention to address the issue later.

The sound of a car pulling up outside made Bruce stop brooding. A spark of anticipation lit up his eyes. He knew exactly who it was before the door even swung open—Cass and Steph. The two of them now lived in their apartment near Gotham University, and Bruce missed their laughter echoing through the halls of Wayne Manor, their spirited pranks filling the air with warmth and vitality.

Cass and Steph stepped into the dining room, their energy infectious, a magnetic pull that drew everyone in and filled the room with a sense of excitement. Steph wasted no time heading straight for the waffle station, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the golden, fluffy treats. Meanwhile, Cass glided gracefully into the room, her movements fluid and elegant. With a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, she greeted Bruce, Dick, and Tim with kisses on their cheeks, a gesture that never failed to warm their hearts. Bruce's chest swelled with affection as he watched them settle into their seats.

Bruce's attention was abruptly drawn to the entrance of the room as Alfred materialized with his customary grace, a silver tray in hand and a single letter resting atop it. The sight was unusual; Alfred was notoriously strict about maintaining a boundary between work and family time, especially during meals. Bruce's curiosity piqued, he accepted the letter from Alfred, a perplexed furrow creasing his brow as he glanced at the envelope's elegant script. The unexpected interruption stirred a mixture of apprehension and intrigue within him, a feeling that only intensified as he broke the seal and unfolded the contents.

Dear Wayne Family,

You are cordially invited to the exclusive book launch party celebrating the release of "The Court," the latest novel by the esteemed author Jason Alexander Head.

Join us for an evening of literary indulgence as we unveil this thrilling masterpiece to the world. Rub shoulders with esteemed guests, indulge in delectable refreshments, and immerse yourself in the spine-tingling world of Jason Head's latest creation.

Your presence at this event would be an honor, as we celebrate the talent and creativity of one of the finest literary minds. We eagerly anticipate your attendance and look forward to sharing this unforgettable experience with you.

Warmest regards,

Esperanza Gonzales.

Bruce's heart skipped a beat as he read the invitation, his fingers trembling slightly as he traced the words on the elegant stationery. The news hit him like a bolt of lightning, sending a jolt of excitement through his veins.

After months of silence, Bruce had pretty much given up hope that his relationship with Jason could be fixed. The past had left some deep wounds, and he thought those scars were permanent. But now, with the chance to attend Jason's book party, a glimmer of hope flickered to life within him. Thoughts of reconciliation and rebuilding the bridges between them raced through his mind. He knew it wouldn't be easy—there would be obstacles to overcome and apologies to make—but for the chance to mend their fractured relationship, Bruce was ready to do whatever it took.

Glancing around the breakfast table at his kids, each lost in their own conversations and laughter, Bruce felt a surge of determination wash over him. He would seize this opportunity, determined to make amends.

With renewed purpose, Bruce turned to Alfred, his eyes alight with determination. "Alfred, cancel our appointments for the day," he said firmly. "We have a party to attend."

- END OF ARC II -