One of the bigger drawing rooms in the Wayne Manor was set up by Alfred to be used as the dressing room for the Colony. They had Jason's book event to prepare for and they will not assist looking unpresentable.
"I am so excited!" Dick flitted around the room, hugging, and kissing his siblings in exuberance. "We will be finally going to one of Little Wing's book launch parties! I'm also excited to see the city my little brothers had claimed as theirs!"
Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his son twirling around the dressing room with all the excitement of a teenage girl preparing for her first date. Dick's exuberance was infectious, filling the room with an undeniable sense of joy and anticipation.
But as Bruce observed Dick's attire, he couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his son's usual style. Dick was known for his flamboyant fashion sense, never one to shy away from bold colors and daring combinations. From bright oranges and fuchsias to eye-catching fluorine hues, Dick's wardrobe was a vibrant reflection of his vibrant personality.
Yet, today, there was something different about Dick's outfit—a certain demureness that Bruce hadn't seen before. It seems like Alfred had been able to convince Dick to use a more classical suit for his brother's grand event.
Bruce could easily admit that his eldest son was truly a sight when he was not trying to be a troll. Dick looked quite striking in his blue shawl lapel suit, white dressing shirt, blue tie, and white dressing shoes. It softened Dick's sharp facial features and added a touch of elegance.
Bruce then titled his head when he realized what Dick had just said. "You've not scouted, I mean visited Fawcett City yet?"
That's right, The Court book launch was happening in Fawcett University's Library. The same university where Jason Alexander Head was a Creative Writing Professor. Something similar happened in Oxford, Bruce's son's alma matter, when A Death in the Family was launchd. While this might have been the first time that Bruce visited Fawcett City, as until now there was nothing to note about that city, no crime rates or organized crimes that needed Batman's attention. Bruce would have expected that to be the first thing his children would have done the moment they realized Jason was alive and did not plan to return to live full-time in Gotham.
Dick finally stopped spinning and turned to look at Bruce with a pained expression the older man had started to assimilate with Darkseid's attack. "Little Wing only came out of the woods after Superman brought your 'body' to the manor. With Baby Bird mostly in San Franscisco and later MIA, the bulk of keeping Gotham from crumbling fell on Babs and me. So, Little Wing mostly visited the manor when he was not teaching or writing, or when he had to drop Dami and Billy when he was needed for a mission."
Bruce noticed Tim flinching at Dick's words, even though his eldest son did not intend to hurt his younger brother with his words and only wanted to answer his father's question. Bruce withheld a sigh and made a mental note to talk about it with his Robin, the tension Bruce has noted around his children could not continue. Things fell apart with his death and as much as Dick and Jason had tried to keep things afloat, it seems like Tim fell through the cracks.
Just then Cass stepped outside the folding screen and twirled around the room. Bruce's frown was rapidly replaced with a beaming smile. Cass giggled with delight as she pirouetted around the room, her laughter ringing out like music in the air. Her dress—a stunning one-shoulder mermaid black gown adorned with black-purplish beading—clung to her slender frame, accentuating her curves in all the right places. With each step she took, the fabric swirled around her, lending an air of elegance and grace to her every movement.
How she moved so smoothly in her Louis Vuitton black high heels, Bruce will never understand. But one thing Bruce is sure about is that his daughter looked breathtaking. He could not believe how much Cass has grown up since he has been missing, his little girl was a full-grown woman now.
"Oh, Cass! You look beautiful!" Dick exclaimed, rushing to hug his little sister, who giggled and hugged him back in return.
Bruce silently approached them and smiled at his eldest children. He has been doing that a lot lately, showing his care and emotions to his children. He had been working hard with Dinah and as hellish as it felt, every torturous moment was worth it. Knowing that his children believed him dead and were not sure that Bruce loved them, had broken him in a way only Jason's death had ever managed.
"You do look incredible," Bruce murmured, kissing Cass' head, making sure not to disrupt her elegant bun. "The only thing that is lacking, is this." Bruce then took a string of pearls from his pocket and raised it towards his daughter.
Cass gasped when she realized what Bruce was holding in his hand. "Grandma's pearl necklace! I can't!"
"You can and you will," Bruce shook his head, smoothly clapping his mother's necklace around Cass' neck. "She would have passed it down to her first granddaughter anyways." Bruce took a step back to stare at Cassandra, looking like the lady she was and wearing Martha Wayne's pearl necklace, and smiled, eyes tearing up. "Now you look perfect."
"Thank you, dad," Cass threw her arms around Bruce's waist and hugged him hard.
Dick looked at them with tears in his eyes, heart filled with so much love. There were days he could still not believe how far Bruce had managed to come in only a few months. Then again, it seems that the Wayne stubbornness helped for more things than only vigilante work. Dick was very proud of the man and father Bruce was becoming.
However, Dick's smile slipped when his eyes landed on Tim. His Baby Bird had become more and more of a recluse since the Dark Ranger incident. Tim clearly blamed himself for putting his siblings in danger and the changes Bruce had gone through, even though the timestream was to blame for it. Dick has tried to explain that to his brother, but his words fell to deaf ears.
Dick approached Tim with a soft sigh, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors of the dressing room. Tim stood before the mirror, his reflection a picture of concentration as he straightened his red tie with meticulous care.
As Dick drew closer, he couldn't help but admire the younger boy's appearance. Tim looked every bit the picture of sophistication and charm in his burgundy slim fit suit, the rich color complementing his complexion perfectly. His black dressing shirt added a touch of sleekness to the ensemble, while his black dressing shoes completed the look with effortless elegance.
"Here, let me help you," Dick smiled and made a quick work of Tim's tie. Dick stepped back to take a good look at his Baby Bird and beamed, the suit slimmed Tim down and accentuated his natural body shape. "Perfect."
"Thank you," Tim looked down at their shoes.
"We will need to continue our Batcave conversation soon," Dick sighed, hating how Tim's body tensed in discomfort. "B already started to notice and will want to 'fix' this after Little Wing's book launch. Cass and Alfred can only run interference for so long."
Tim sighed, body slumping in defeat, but at least he was finally looking at Dick in the eye. "I get it... and I know you are right... but..."
"It's not easy, I get it," Dick patted Tim in the back. "It took me B 'dying' and you going missing in the timestream, plus Alfie and Jason dragging me kicking and screaming, to start attending sessions with Harley."
"Harley Quinn?" Tim repeated incredulously. He blinked repeatedly, stunned as if he could not believe what he had just heard. "She is your therapist!? Didn't her license get revoked after... you know, all her criminal activities! Also, since when do you go to therapy?!"
"I told you, since Darkseid screwed with our lives and you decided to go all rogue on us," Dick shrugged uncaringly. "Harley's license did get revoked, but she is my own brand of chaos and style... she just fits. That's what you need when it comes to therapy, someone that fits and makes you feel comfortable." Dick smiled comfortingly, brining Tim into a hug when he noticed his discomfort about the topic. "It won't be the first therapist, or even the second, but if you keep looking for them you will find the one that fits you perfectly."
"Like B with Dinah, and you with Harley?" Tim asked.
"And whoever Little Wing talks to back at the All-Caste," Dick added.
That had Tim freezing in Dick's arms and taking a couple of steps back, away from the hug, to look at his older brother in the eyes. "Jason goes to therapy?"
"Baby Bird, Little Wing died. Of course, he goes to therapy, or whatever magical version of it is called." Dick huffed a laugh, a broken sound that startled Tim. "That kind of trauma will never go away, none of the trauma we've gone through will just vanish. Do you think that simply because B is back it means that the months, we thought him dead and the other months we've investigated ways to heal him, would simply go away and things would go back as they used to be?"
Tim looked Dick with wide eyes, blinking away the tears that started to gather in his baby-blue eyes. Dick was suddenly struck by the realization that Tim had thought just that. "Baby Bird, is that way you were so hellbent into getting B back, that you forgone all bat-protocols and went rogue?"
"Bruce was dead, just like my mom and dad," Tim's voice was thick with emotion as he whispered, going back to looking at the floor. "Jason was back, but he was scolding us and calling our mission, calling Robin a symbol of child soldiers. You and Babs took over WE and the Foundation, making all these big decisions. Batman was no longer patrolling Gotham; he was just a magical mirage to trick criminals into believing we had not lost our leader!" Tim barked a broken laugh, a few tears escaping and rolling down his cheeks. "Things were changing so fast; everyone was forgetting about Bruce and his mission..."
"No, Baby Bird," Dick shook his head and hugged his little brother tightly, not caring that his suit was getting wet. "We never forgot about Bruce, every action we did back then was in his honor, in his memory. We wanted to make Gotham the city Bruce and Batman had dreamed of."
"And you did," Tim's voice was muffled against the fabric of the suit. Not that he cared, as his arms moved to wrap around Dick's back. "I was just a fool not to see it before."
"You were no fool, Baby Bird. Just young and unexperienced, we all were in your position before." Dick chuckled wetly, kissing Tim's head, and nuzzling his styled back hair. Tim will need to redo his hairstyle, but he did not seem to care. "You should have seen the tantrums I used to throw back in the day. My screaming matched with B are legendary for a reason. I'm sure that if you ask Babs and Jay, they will tell you all about it."
Tim chuckled and finally let go of his older brother. The two of them turned to see the rest of their family, and Dick was quick to notice that Cass had strategically moved Bruce so he would not see their interaction, giving them the privacy they needed. Dick mouthed a 'thank you' at Cass, who simply smiled back.
Meanwhile, Tim's gaze shifted towards Steph, who had just finished dressing for the occasion. A smile spread across his face as he took in her appearance—she looked absolutely stunning in her purple-eggplant crisscross halter gown. The fabric draped elegantly over her figure, accentuating her curves in all the right places. Steph's eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her laughter bubbled up from within her. She was radiant, her blonde curls tumbling down her back in a carefree cascade.
However, Steph looked especially giddy by the pearl bracelet in her right wrist. By Bruce's fond expression, Tim realized that it was a present from Bruce. Tim's eyes only widened when the meaning of such a present dawned on him. The pearl bracelet might not be as famous as the pearl necklace Martha Wayne died wearing, but the two of them came in a pair.
Bruce giving Steph his mother's bracelet, which he had only intended to pass down to any daughter or granddaughter he would have, showed Steph that Bruce had finally accepted her as part of the family. It also showed Steph that Bruce acknowledged her romantic relationship with Cass and gave his consent. With this gesture Steph was as good as Bruce's daughter-in-law.
"Good for you, Spoiler," Tim whispered with a smile.
He then moved towards the pile of books at the corner. He picked up Ethereal Echoes of Hill House and Ethereal Echoes of Bly Manor, unlike Jason's first two novels, Tim had never gotten his signature. Something that Tim was going to rectify tonight. He will also be buying Jason's newest novel, The Court, and requesting yet another signature. Tim has made his peace with Jason being his Robin, his favorite author, and his big brother, and he will be milking it until there is nothing left. Not everyone gets a big brother that was their favorite hero and author all in one package!
"Are those Ethereal Echoes of Hill House and Ethereal Echoes of Bly Manor?" Dick asked, his focus finally returning to his younger brother. Dick's lips widened into a proud smile. "Did you know that Baby Bat draw the book covers?"
"I did," Tim nodded, smiling fondly. "I even got a call from him ranting about how Esperanza did not allow him to make a cover for The Court, because the topics were deemed too inappropriate and they did not need the scandal of a thirteen years old boy doing the cover of a novel dealing with satanic cults."
"Baby Bat called you?" Dick looked surprised, but he was vibrating with giddiness at the news that his babies were finally getting along.
Tim simply chuckled and shook his head. "I think he just ran off to find people to rant to and then decided to bother me."
"It's a start! This is great!" Dick beamed, practically glowing with excitement.
Tim was going to say something, but one look at Dick's smile and he stopped himself. It is not that Tim did not get along with either Damian or William, it's just that when they appeared in his life Tim was too busy sulking to try and get to know them. Unlike the rest of his family Tim was never around the manor when Jason would drop off Damian and Billy for their sleepovers. He never got around to bonding with them or anything. So, instead of being Tim's little brothers, they were just a couple of strangers that Jason always had around.
Which was a pity because Tim had always wanted a little brother, and Jason had brought him two. Making a promise to himself to do better this time around, Tim simply smiled back to Dick and kept his thoughts to himself. Even when Alfred informed them that the limousine was ready, Tim silently followed his family outside with an excited skip to his beat.
They had a book launch to get to!
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Jason stood at the front of the room, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through him as he surveyed the crowd. Dressed in a striking white suit, with a gleaming gold vest and tie, he looked every bit the confident author about to share his latest work. The Fawcett University Library buzzed with anticipation, filled with journalists, editors, sponsors, and esteemed professors eager to hear from him.
But amidst the sea of faces, it was the presence of his family that truly warmed Jason's heart. Talia, Nyssa, and Roy all sat among the audience, their supportive gazes giving him a boost of confidence. And then there were the guests— Clark, Lois, and Diana—that made Jason feel giddy by their support.
Yet, it was his father who held Jason's attention the most. Surrounded by Dick, Tim, Steph, Alfred, and Cass, Bruce was a striking presence. Jason had been apprehensive about facing him, unsure of how their reunion would unfold. But as he locked eyes with Bruce, a wave of calm washed over him. There was something reassuring about the way Bruce stood there, silently offering his support.
With a small smile, Jason glanced down at the podium, where his new novel awaited. And as he prepared to share the prologue with the room, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. This was his moment, and he was ready to seize it. As Jason began to read the prologue of his novel, the room fell into a hushed silence, every eye fixed on him, hanging on his every word.
"In the depths of the night, where darkness reigns supreme and the whispers of the unseen echo through the shadows, lies a city gripped by fear. It is a place where the line between the living and the dead blurs, where ancient evils lurk in the alleys and hidden corners.
The murders began with whispers, rumors whispered in hushed tones in the dead of night. Bodies found torn asunder, their screams silenced by the cold embrace of death. Each victim marked with the touch of the infernal, their souls tainted by the darkness that now threatens to consume them.
As the body count rises, so too does the terror that grips the city. Fear seeps into the hearts of the people, casting a shadow over their once peaceful lives. Sleepless nights are spent behind locked doors, whispers of demons haunting the streets spreading like wildfire.
No one is safe from the grasp of the unknown. Families huddle together, seeking solace in the warmth of their loved ones, yet knowing deep down that darkness lurks just beyond their doorstep.
The city streets, once bustling with life, now lie deserted and silent. The echoes of footsteps are drowned out by the eerie whispers of the night, as if the very air itself is alive with malevolence.
This is our story. The story of how we, a group of exorcists, ventured into this nightmarish city to investigate this mystery. And what we discovered was something unimaginable, something we would have not even dreamt of. It was a revelation that shook us to our core, challenging everything we thought we knew about the forces of darkness and the depths of human depravity."
As Jason seamlessly transitioned from the haunting prologue to the beginning of the first chapter, his deep, soothing voice resonated through the library, weaving a mesmerizing spell over everyone present. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as listeners hung on his every word, drawn into the gripping narrative he spun.
Esperanza watched with pride and excitement. Her heart swelled as she observed the enraptured expressions of the audience as they listened to Jason. With each passing moment, it became increasingly clear that this novel would soar to the top of the bestseller lists like Jason's previous books.
Jason delved deeper into the first chapter, his voice rising and falling with the ebb and flow of the story, the tension in the room grew palpable. Every sentence seemed to resonate with power and emotion, painting vivid images in the minds of those listening. It was as if the words themselves possessed a life of their own. As the first chapter drew to a close, a ripple of applause echoed through the library, breaking the spell that Jason's words had cast over the room.
For Esperanza, watching Jason work his magic was a moment of sheer joy. She had always believed in his talent, but seeing it come to life in such a profound way always filled her with a sense of awe. Ever since the manuscript of A Death in the Family reached her desk, she had known Jason Alexander Head was made for greater things. It was quite satisfying to be proven right.
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As Jason said his goodbyes to Clark and Lois, he felt the weight of exhaustion bearing down on him. It had been a crazy night, with non-stop talking and everyone pulling at him from every direction. Despite the nice chats and hugs, Jason felt like he couldn't breathe in all the chaos around him. Feeling desperate for a break, he hurried out of the library, craving some time alone away from the madness. He knew Esperanza would give him a hard time later for ditching, but he couldn't handle another minute of being bombarded with questions and demands.
Since he left the podium, it was like he was under siege. Reporters wanted interviews, Diana hugged him so tight he could barely breathe, and his siblings wouldn't leave him alone for a second. It felt like everyone wanted a piece of him—signing books, making small talk—it was all too much.
With exhaustion weighing him down, Jason knew he had to escape, or he'd collapse. Slipping away from the crowd, he felt instant relief as reached a quiet hallway. Leaning against the wall, Jason closed his eyes, feeling the calm wash over him. Taking a deep breath, he let the tension melt away.
As Jason leaned against the wall, basking in the quiet moment of solitude, he sensed Bruce's presence before he even opened his eyes. There was a certain energy about his father, a familiar aura that Jason had grown accustomed to over the years. Despite Bruce's stealthy approach, Jason's magical senses picked up on his father's silent arrival.
With a resigned sigh, Jason realized that they needed to have a conversation—an overdue chat that had been looming over them since Jason's return from the dead and Bruce's own return from the timestream. The sense of calmness he had felt while standing on the podium was now replaced by bubbling nervousness in his gut, but Jason knew it was inevitable.
Pushing himself off the wall, Jason turned to face Bruce, his expression guarded yet determined. "We're not doing this here," he stated firmly, his voice betraying none of the turmoil swirling inside him. "Let's go to my office. The literature department building is only about five minutes from here."
Without waiting for a response, Jason began to march out of the library, the cold night air biting at his skin as he stepped outside. He could feel Bruce's presence trailing behind him, a silent companion in the darkness.
As they walked side by side, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air between them. Jason's mind raced with questions and doubts, uncertainties that had plagued him since the moment he returned to the land of the living. But he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. With each step, Jason felt a sense of resolve wash over him. He had to confront Bruce and lay bare the truths that had been festering beneath the surface for far too long.
Even since before the Joker had killed him. There had been a reason why Bruce had accused Jason of killing Felipe Garzonasa. A little fact that Jason had yet to forgive him about, what had to go through someone's mind to accuse a kid of committing murder?
As Jason unlocked the door to his office and gestured for Bruce to enter. Bruce nodded in acknowledgment as he stepped into the room, his lips curling into a faint smile at the sight of Jason's polite gesture. Despite the gravity of the situation, Bruce couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the display of Jason's manners. It seems that Alfred had managed to teach one of his children some manners.
Stepping into the office, Bruce allowed his gaze to sweep over the room, taking in the meticulously organized space that bore Jason's unmistakable touch. From the carefully arranged bookshelves to the array of personal mementos adorning the walls, Bruce couldn't help but feel a swell of pride.
When Bruce turned to look into his son's eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension settle in the pit of his stomach. It was clear that this conversation weighed heavily on Jason's mind, and Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to enter uncharted territory. There were so many things left unsaid between them, so many apologies and questions. It left Bruce feeling lost and not knowing where to start or say. So, he decided that for once he would not go with logic, that he will choose to follow his heart and ask the one thing that has been haunting him since the moment he found out his son was alive.
"Jason," Bruce's voice cut through the tension, laden with raw emotion, his eyes fixed on him with a mix of anguish and confusion, "why? Why didn't you come home sooner?"
Jason, who had decided to be calm and controlled for this conversation, felt a blazing inferno of resentment ignite within him from just that question. Bruce had always been good at making Jason feel unnerved and raising his temper. He felt the heat rising, simmering beneath his skin. How could Bruce ask such a thing? Didn't he understand the pain he'd caused?
"You know damn well why," Jason shot back, struggling to maintain a semblance of composure. "It's not like you ever truly loved me back then, I simply became another cross for you to carry and justify for vendetta. Just like your parents."
"Jason," Bruce stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief, "how could you think...? How could you think I didn't love you?"
Jason felt the world around him blur as anger surged through his veins, drowning out reason. The sudden, overwhelming fury consumed him. "Oh, spare me, old man," Jason hissed with venomous sarcasm.
"Maybe because you never bothered to say the words, 'I love you.' Maybe because you accused me of murder without a second thought. Maybe because you ripped Robin away from me. Or how about the aftermath of my death? The Joker still breathing freely, a new kid stepping into my shoes like I never existed. I wasn't even buried in the family plot, no 'Wayne' on my damn gravestone despite being legally a Wayne. My birth mother, the one who sold me out, lying next to me with 'loving mother' engraved on her tombstone, as if you didn't bother to investigate. And let's not forget my memorial, a bloody costume and a plaque that reads 'A Good Soldier' like that's all I was to you,"—Jason spat the words bitterly—"as if that's enough to honor your dead son. So, tell me, Bruce, with all that evidence, how the hell was I supposed to believe you gave a damn about me?"
The office fell silent, the weight of Jason's accusations hanging in the air like a heavy fog. Bruce stood before him, speechless, his eyes betraying the agony of regret. "I do love you," Bruce confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "I've always loved you. I thought you knew, but... that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never told you. I love all of my children. You, Dick, Tim, and Cass, and I know that I will love Damian and Billy as well when I get to meet them. Of course, I love you. Please, Jaylad, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I didn't save you..."
Jason turned slowly, his anger dissipating as he took in the tears glistening in Bruce's eyes. He'd never seen Bruce cry before, and it shook him to his core. The rage melted away, leaving behind a sense of vulnerability.
"I never blamed you for not saving me," Jason replied softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "My death wasn't your fault. It wasn't mine, or Dick's. It was Sheila's and the Joker's. I don't want your guilt. Not now, not ever."
Bruce's expression was wrought with uncertainty. "What... What do you want, then? What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?"
"I want us to move forward, Bruce. I want us to try to understand each other. To rebuild what we once had. But it's gonna take time. A lot of time." Jason met Bruce's gaze, the weight of their shared history heavy between them. "I want you to love me anyways, no matter what's I've done, who I've become. Because I am no longer that little boy, I used to be, I've changed... a lot."
"I know and I do," Bruce swore, his words ringing with conviction. "I do love you. No matter what. I will always love you."
Jason paused, absorbing the intensity of Bruce's declaration. "...Okay," he breathed, a flicker of relief mingling with the uncertainty.
"Okay...?" Bruce echoed, his expression still tinged with desperation and doubt.
"Okay." Jason closed the gap between them, enveloping Bruce in a tight embrace. "Let's talk then, because we have a lot to discuss and a middle ground to find."
Tears streamed down both Bruce and Jason's faces as they clung to each other in the center of the office. Bruce's arms shook with emotion as he held onto Jason tightly, his heart pounding in his chest with the fear of losing him once more. It was as if he was afraid that if he let go, Jason would vanish before his eyes, and everything they had worked for would crumble like sand slipping through his fingers.
For Bruce, the weight of regret pressed heavily on his heart. He couldn't shake the haunting memories of the young boy who had died tragically, the son he hadn't been able to save in time. As he held Jason in his arms now, he couldn't help but feel a surge of guilt wash over him, a painful reminder of his failures as a father.
And for Jason, the tears flowed freely as he allowed himself to grieve for the loss, he had suffered all those years ago. In this moment, he was no longer the hardened necromancer, but the broken child crying out for the love and protection he had been denied. Each sob echoed with the pain of abandonment, the longing for a father who had failed to reach him when he needed him the most.
As they held onto each other, their tears mingled in a bittersweet embrace. However, in that moment, they found solace in each other's arms. Jason did not know how long they were there, embracing each other as they wept. But Jason knew that it had been him the one who had gathered the strength to break the embrace and continue with the conversation at hand. But before that, they will need a drink. He went for the minibar underneath his desk and took out a bottle of arak.
"Are you up for a drink, old man?" Jason teased, as he served glasses of arak.
Bruce picked up the glass with a bemused expression, as he could not believe that he was finally having a drink with his adult son. "It looks like you picked up Talia's taste... I've not had a glass of arak since my time in the league..."
"I am umi's son after all," Jason shrugged, deciding not to decipher the weirded-out expression on Bruce's face. "I'm pretty sure you deduced some of what happened to me. I got revived, woke up in my coffin, dug myself out, wandered around Gotham in a comatose state, and then got found by T's men who took me to her, and she threw me into one of her father's Lazarus Pits." Jason winced still recalling that horrible day as if it had been yesterday. "Not the best way of waking up, that's for sure."
Jason sat on his desk's chair and slouched, his expression darkening as he recounted his turbulent journey. "So, there I was, all patched up after the Lazarus Pit craziness. And what do I find? The Joker's still out there, wreaking havoc like it's his day job, and Batman, well, he's already replaced me with a shiny new version. Can you believe that?"
Bruce listened intently, his brows furrowing not liking the use of the word replace. No son would ever replace the other. However, Bruce understood that Jason was talking in past tense and that is how he felt at the moment, but not how he feels right now. So, he stayed silent as Jason continued telling his story.
"Umi started seeing me as her son halfway through my training and decided I need a world tour to sort out my head. I did not like it at the time. I had finished my training at Nanda Parbat and was ready to go to Gotham and stake my claim or something. But T did not want me to do something I will regret one day." Jason continued, a bitter edge to his voice. "Some of the guys she sent me to train with were solid, you know? But others, man, they were like the worst kind of scum. Pure evil, no redeeming qualities whatsoever."
A shadow crossed Bruce's face as he absorbed Jason's words. "You... you killed them?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He had known that Red Ghoul killed when he deemed it a need, but he still could not come to terms with the fact that his son was the same feared and competent necromancer.
Jason met Bruce's gaze, unflinching. "Yeah, I did. Look, I'm not saying it's the ideal solution, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. When the system fails, when there's no one else to step up, sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands."
Bruce struggled to reconcile his principles with Jason's actions. "I can't condone killing, Jason. You know that," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.
"I get it, Bruce. I do," Jason replied, his tone softer now. "But trust me, I didn't take those decisions lightly. I did what I had to do to protect innocent lives. Isn't that what being a hero is all about?"
Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Maybe... maybe you're right," he admitted, reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
Jason nodded, a hint of understanding passing between them. "I know, B. And for what it's worth, I wish things could've been different too."
Jason lounged back in his chair, the weight of his past choices heavy on his mind. "So, yeah, after all that craziness, I had this whole grand plan, you know? I was gonna storm back into Gotham, take control of the drug scene, clean up the streets, especially in Crime Alley where Batman seemed to turn a blind eye, and then, just to twist the knife a bit, I was gonna confront you, show you the fallout of your choices by asking you to off the Joker."
Jason paused, a rueful smirk spreading through his lips. "By the end of my tour, the All-Caste happened was T's last hope to find a fix for my Pit Madness. Not even going to Oxford managed to calm me down." Jason chuckled sardonically. "Even the All-Caste did not get rid of my Pit Madness, though I could a couple of cool magical swords." Jason's expression darkened. "Then the Untitled happened."
"The Untitled?" Bruce asked warily, going back for a second to his Batman persona.
Jason waved his worry away carelessly. "We dealt with them. Demons that wanted to bring the apocalypse. However, the carnage..." Jason shook at the memory of all the gore and blood. "I tried my best to write it down, but even then, I could not come close to it. If that had not satiated the bloodthirst of the Pit Madness, then there was nothing in this world capable of fixing me."
"Jason," Bruce whispered brokenly, hating that his son had to go through so much. Why did his children always have to pay for his mistakes?
Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Umi, she's the one who snapped me out of it afterwards, you know? She made me realize I was chasing after something I'd never get from you. Family, love, all that jazz. Turns out, I already had it with her and Damian. And afterwards with Billy, Roy, and Lian."
Bruce's expression softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Jason, I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't part of the family."
Jason waved him off, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Water under the bridge, B. I've made my peace with it. Besides, I figured out what I really wanted. Peace. So, here I am, I graduated top of my class and now I am teaching and writing."
Bruce nodded, a sense of pride swelling within him. "I'm glad you found your path, Jason. And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
Jason grinned, a genuine warmth in his eyes."Thanks, dad. It means a lot to me."