Thank you <3 That’s a very JayDick song, but I love writing batfam, too, so... have both.
Steph took one look at Jason’s old-new room and pronounced: “You need to redecorate.”
Which was how Jason found himself in Ikea of all places. She even dragged a flustered-looking Tim with her, who proved to be supremely unhelpful when it came to curtain color (“I don’t think either red or purple will look good with those walls,” bullshit) but very willing to hand over his credit card. It was… fun. The room felt less like a tomb when Steph was done with it, which was great.
“Well, duh.” She grinned. “No one in this house knows how to decorate for shit. You should see what Tim did with his bedroom…”
Jason spent a minute considering his options. “Anime girls?”
“Nope, but I like the way you’re thinking.”
“He did…” Steph paused dramatically. “Nothing.”
“Nothing. It still looks like it did in the eighties.”
Jason laughed, and she looked gratified. “Sounds terrible.”
They kept working on the bookshelf. Ikea was great for those; that’s why they went there in the first place. Well, that and the look on Bruce’s face when he saw the boxes.
After a minute, Jason asked: “So… are you seeing a lot of Tim’s bedroom, then?”
“Yeah. So what?” She glared at him, which he was starting to realize was a sure sign that she was embarrassed.
“So nothing. Didn’t know that was happening again, that’s all.”
It took her a minute, but she softened. “Yeah. I… guess we’re giving it a second chance.”
“That’s cool,” he told her sincerely. “I mean, you could clearly do better, but he damn well knows what he’s got now.”
“Hmm.” Steph was hiding behind the shelf she was holding up, but he could still tell she was pleased. “So how about your own second chance, huh?”
…damn, he’d walked right into that one. “Shut up.”
“Home invasion in sector 6R. Three 1Cs, suspected armed. Neighbors reporting shots, five people in the house. Hood, you’re closest.”
Jason had already changed course. “I’m on it.”
He waited—this was the point where Batman would send a Robin or two after him, maybe even Nightwing or himself, “just as back-up.” There was no way they would let him operate as part of the team without close supervision for at least a year. Jason was determined to grit his teeth and bear it, even if he wasn’t sure for how long he could. He was chafing already, running like this with the others when he’d been on his own for so long.
However, Bruce only confirmed that he’d heard him, and then the line went silent.
There was no better time to be awake in the manor than the early morning in Jason’s opinion. The light fell softly into the kitchen as he entered, barefoot and in his pajamas.
Alfred was there, of course. “Good morning, Jason.”
It was their private ritual; had been even before Jason had moved back into the fold. Six a.m., tea and sandwiches. The only difference was that now, Jason hadn’t vanished by the time Damian stomped into the kitchen, glowering at them for being awake and having the audacity to send him to school.
It was kinda adorable, not that Jason would ever tell him that. Instead, he watched Damian make his way through his own breakfast and nodded toward the packed lunch waiting for him. “I see you’re not taking advantage of the school cafeteria, then?”
“Them?” The amount of scorn Damian managed to pack into a single word would have weighed down a ship or two. “They would not know good food if it chased after them with a sword.”
“Let me guess—still only three spices, and these are salt, pepper, and ketchup?” Jason asked.
“I believe there is a fourth one now—they have a particularly intolerable mixture that they like to label ‘Chinese.’” Damian’s whole face scrunched up with distaste. “It tastes nothing like what Mother used to cook.”
“While I am sorry to hear that,” Alfred inserted, “we will be late if we don’t leave soon.”
Damian grumbled but hopped off his chair. Jason glanced at the clock — seven a.m. Dick would get up soon. Might as well make him a sandwich, too.
He pulled the ingredients closer, already compiling a list of recipes in his head. Talia had shown him how to make most of Damian’s favorites. He could teach those to Alfred, no problem.
“Hood. Stop it right now.” Dick looked at him with big eyes, or so Jason assumed, considering they were both wearing their masks.
“No, continue.” Barbara sounded choked, audibly forcing down laugher.
And, hey. Love was one thing, but Jason knew who gave him the best intel night after night. “So big bird and B decide that they have to infiltrate this organization, right? Only… they’re all swingers…”
Her laughter was brighter than the streetlights.
Jason stepped into the corridor and silently closed the door behind him.
God, but it had taken a long time to get Dick tired and ready to sleep. Jason himself was still feeling too wired to pass out, but then he wasn’t operating on a 40-hour sleep deficit, so it was totally not the same thing.
He decided to wander down to the cave. Bruce was still up, of course, acknowledging Jason’s presence with a grunt. The only other person present was Tim, who was bent over some files.
…like, really bent over them. One could almost think…yup, he’d fallen asleep at the table.
Jason gently poked him. Then he harshly poked him. When nothing happened, he sighed and moved one arm under Tim’s legs, the other gripping his shoulders. The kid would fuck up his back if he stayed like that. It took a bit of effort, but they were soon making their way up the stairs, Tim cradled securely in Jason’s arms.
They’d almost made it upstairs when Tim stirred, blue eyes opening halfway and looking at him.
Heart in his throat, Jason waited. This family had a bad habit of coming awake swinging, and with Jason hovering over them… well, it wouldn’t be entirely unjustified, wouldn’t it? Especially in Tim’s case.
Tim grumbled and went right back to sleep.
Jason pinched his nose. Or tried to, but he was wearing his helmet, so he basically poked himself in the face. Judging from Duke’s expression, that wasn’t helping his point.
“So you decided to buy us time by…”
“Ninja traps,” Cassie finished for him. Looking as if that made total sense.
“Well, it was more of an obstacle course, really,” Duke added helpfully.
“Okay, that’s a weird-ass move, but I can respect that. Then why did that warehouse explode?”
“Fire.” Cassie’s expression gave nothing away.
Jason looked to Duke. “What she said.”
“And the fire was there because…?”
Jason groaned. “I cannot believe I’m the responsible person here,” he lamented. “Is this how you feel most of the time, D?”
There was laughter over the com. “Oh, Nightwing has finally acquired a co-parent,” Steph commented, followed by Tim’s: “About time.”
(Everyone ignored Bruce’s “Hey!”.)
Bruce was hovering. He probably didn’t intend to it; it just came naturally. Jason still felt that nervous lurch in his stomach whenever Bruce did that, but he was trying to get over it, so he just asked: “Yeah?”
“Let me show you something.”
They went into one of the rooms behind Bruce’s office that Jason had always assumed held nothing but files. He was very wrong.
“After you… left, I found myself reading books and thinking—he would’ve loved that.”
The walls were lined with bookcases. There were special editions of Jane Austen reprints, thick sci-fi novels, and nineteenth-century murder mysteries. It was eclectic and weird and precisely what Jason liked. What they both liked.
“I kept collecting them,” Bruce told him, voice too even. “Just… in case, I suppose.”
Jason stared at the shelves and shelves full of books, all read exactly once. His eyes were stinging because the glass display downstairs—that was bullshit. That uniform was about and for Bruce, and the new Robins, not Jason.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Bruce almost-smiled, relief written across his face. “You’re welcome. Uh. I’ll leave you to it.”
Jason let him take two steps, then he said: “Bruce. If there was ever a time for a hug, this is it.”
Jason let Bruce pull him into an embrace—hugged back just as fiercely and told him: “It’s okay. You can stop grieving now. I’m here.”
If Bruce’s shoulders were shaking, neither of them mentioned it.
It was a total accident. Jason had felt like holding Dick’s hand, so he did. It was only when he looked up and caught Tim’s eye that he remembered—right. They were surrounded by Dick’s family. Their family.
Tim winked. The conversation didn’t stop. No one else commented or even gave them a second glance.
Something in Jason exhaled.
Dick squeezed his hand, smiling at something Damian was saying, and ugh, sometimes Jason was so full of feelings, he didn’t know what to do with it. Dick was just so—so—
Yeah. Jason was so fucking gone for him. All he could think about was how it would feel if there was a ring, there, pressing against his own.
He leaned back, adding a sarcastic comment or two to the conversation just to bask in the sunshine of Dick’s laughter. That thought warranted some serious consideration, not to mention talking to Dick, but—just the idea that he could have that? That he trusted himself, and Dick, and their family, enough to have that?
(Three days before Jason moved into the manor, Dick called a family gathering.
“Why is Jason not here, then?” Tim asked, frowning. “If it’s a family matter, it concerns him, too.”
Dick could kiss him for that. Instead he said: “Because it’s about him. I’m gonna lay down some ground rules, okay?”
Jason letting Dick convince him to move back in with them… that was huge. And dangerous. Dick had figured out long ago that Jay and Bruce had no idea how to handle each other anymore. Neither did the rest. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to. Dick was hopeful.
It was just… Jay was the best thing in Dick’s world; his support, his light, his conscience. He just made everything better. And Dick had no intentions of letting their family or anyone else fuck that up.)