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Tim shut off his batcycle’s engine and propped it up on its stand in time to watch the Batmobile roar into the cave. The car screeched to a stop, brakes whining with the effort, and a second later Batman emerged in a flurry of black fabric.
Great. If Bruce was in that much of a hurry then it must be worse than he thought. Tim sighed as he watched Nightwing drive into the cave on his own cycle and park up beside him.
Dick watched Jason stagger out of the Batmobile, flinging up a hand to thwart Bruce’s attempt to help. He swung his leg over the sleek motorcycle and came to stand beside Tim. “Well, at least they haven’t started physically fighting each other yet.”
Tim connected the fueling line to his bike and then turned to trudge down the steps into the cave proper— Dick following behind. “Give it ten minutes and say that again,” he remarked.
The mission had been a disaster from the start. One of Cluemasters’ more ambitious stunts had gone pear-shaped when the Red Hood had gatecrashed his game-show-esque trap for the Bats. There’d been fighting and blood, Jason yelling about the villain's drug running, and then there’d been an unknown gaseous substance being thrown at them.
Dick and Tim had gotten their rebreathers on quick enough but Bruce and Jason had been closer to Cluemaster and had gotten the brunt of the off-white gas before they’d had a chance to protect themselves.
“So, what’s the verdict?” Dick called as they finally made it over to the batcomputer.
Bruce was still prepping the blood samples for analysis when he turned to give the two newcomers a glance. “We’ll know soon enough.”
Jason, who was standing as far away as he could while still being in the same room as them, snorted, “Hurry it up will you? I feel fine, could probably leave now if the old man wasn’t so paranoid.”
Bruce finished up with the samples and slid them into a port on the computer’s analysis station. “I’m not paranoid, I’m worried, that gas clearly had a purpose and we need to find out what it is.”
Tim raised an eyebrow, “Cluemaster isn’t known for using gas in his exploits. It could be anything.”
Dick danced forward on eager feet, “Any symptoms? Rashes? Nausea? The urge to bite?”
“No,” Bruce said gruffly.
Dick tapped a finger on his chin in contemplation and then said, in a thick Transylvanian accent, “So no urge to drink your true blood tonight, eh?” He drew his arm across his face in lieu of a cape and raised his eyebrows a few times jokingly at Jason.
“No,” Jason said tersely and kicked a leg out to ward the vampiric Nightwing away. “But I am having the inexplicable urge to punch you in the face.”
Dick dropped the act in favor of plastering a downtrodden look on his face. “Aw, no fun.”
The secret door at the top of the stairs clicked open and a few seconds later Damian came trodding up the computer platform. “You are all back early. What happened?”
Tim half-turned to regard the boy’s presence. “Bruce and Jason got hit with an unknown substance.”
The boy turned his shrewd look to Jason— bypassing his father completely. “Clearly in my absence you have all proven yourselves to be incapable of conducting a proper patrol. Perhaps next time I have a school exam I should skip the studying to accompany you on such easy missions to ensure—”
“Good try, but no,” Bruce said with a hint of amusement in his voice. His eyes fell onto his youngest son and he took in the boy’s dejected look. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again— your schooling comes first.”
“But I’m already so far ahead of the other children! Surely missing one day wouldn’t be so bad?”
Bruce shook his head and placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “No, your education means a lot to me, son. I won’t have you missing it for patrol.”
A snort drew Tim’s eyes away from father and son, and back over to Jason’s little isolation corner.
“Care to share with the class?” Tim asked.
Jason pulled off his cracked helmet and set it on the bench he was leaning against. His hair stood up in patches of sweat and his eyes looked bright as they swiveled to meet Bruce’s. “You love to pretend to care don’t you?”
Bruce’s mouth turned down, not by much, but Tim was versed enough in Bruce’s mannerisms to notice. “Jason I—”
“Don’t try to lie to me!” Jason’s raised voice cut across the echoing cave, trapping Dick, Damian, and Tim as bystanders between him and Bruce. “You always pretended, didn't you? But the truth is that you only care about the mission.”
Bruce stepped closer to Jason, his black cape trailing behind him and making him look bigger than he actually was. “No. I care about the mission, but that’s not all. I care about my family.”
Jason snorted again and crossed his hands over his chest. “Oh yes, how could I forget? The golden boy, the replacement, and the prodigal son! The trio of perfection that you covet so closely.”
Bruce’s jaw tensed. “Just say what you really want to say and leave the others out of this.”
A fire lit in Jason’s dark eyes as he uncrossed his arms in a flurry of motion and took a menacing step forward to point a finger at Bruce’s face. “I’m saying that you’re a fake! All you do is take and take and you get people hurt in the process. You’re so obsessed with the mission that it consumes you. And the worst part?” He paused, chest heaving with each word he spat, “The worst part is that you let it.”
Dick stepped forward before Tim could think to stop him. “Hey, let's take it easy here fellas.” He held his hands out in a placating gesture, recognising Jason’s baiting as a potential fuel to start a fight. “We don’t want anyone to say anything the might regret la—”
“I know.”
Everyone whipped their heads toward Bruce’s softly spoken agreement. He was looking down, away from all of their watchful eyes.
“Bruce?” Tim asked, suddenly unsure of where this was leading. Usually, this far into an argument, Bruce and Jason would already be throwing fists.
“I know,” Bruce said again, this time looking up directly into Jason’s eyes. “I was obsessed— I still am. I admit that. My parent’s murder took so much from me, I never wanted anyone to go through what I went through so I began my mission. To save this city. To save its people from my fate.”
Tim looked between the two men and gingerly reached out a hand to pull Dick back to his side. Dick turned to look at him, his face revealing he was just as bewildered as Tim felt.
“My quest for vengeance took over my life and I let it because there seemed like no other option. There was only the fight. There was only bringing people like Joe Chill to justice.” He looked away from Jason again, shame twisting his features. “But then there was you.”
He looked back up, gaze alighting on each of them in turn and finally resting on Jason again. “There were all of you. I had a family again, but I was still blinded by my own shortcomings. I was weakened by them and in my weakness, you got hurt.”
Jason was still breathing heavily, fists clenched at his sides and when he spoke his voice was tight. “So you admit it then? That if you hadn’t been so reckless, if… if you had never taken me off that damned street then… then I—”
“You think I regret that?” Bruce asked sharply.
Jason’s gloves creaked as his hands clenched impossibly harder. “Yes?” he asked as if it was obvious. “How could you not? If you’d never taken me in then I could never have fucked up so bad that I got myself killed.”
Tim felt like a statue. Beside him, Dick and Damian were similarly frozen in shock.
“Oh Jaybird,” Bruce shakily whispered. He suddenly looked small, the cape now engulfing him in shadow that ate away at his stature. He took a tentative step forward, hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach out to his wayward son. “Is that what you think? That… that I blame you for what happened?”
Jason’s hands were shaking. “You told me. You told me to stay away and I didn’t listen.”
“No.” Bruce shook his head. “No. None of it was your fault.” He did reach out then, hand clasping firmly on Jason’s shoulder. “You aren’t to blame for this, do you understand?”
“No, I— I shouldn’t have been there.”
Bruce reached up with his free hand and practically tore his cowl off. Tears brimmed in his eyes, matching Jason’s current state. “It was my fault. I’m to blame. No one else.” His voice wavered, the tears threatening to spill. “Not you, Jaybird. Never you.”
The computer beeped in a low tone, signalling the completion of the toxicology report and Tim practically jumped at the chance for distraction. He skirted around the composition, leaning toward the screen as it spewed its analysis at him.
“How can I be sure you actually mean it?” Jason asked, voice raw with emotion.
Tim clears his throat awkwardly, projecting his voice enough to bring the other’s attention to him. “Well, I can assure you he means it.” He taps at the computer, bringing the report up onto the larger central screen where they can see it. “The gas was a truth serum. Everything you’ve both said has been true. Or at least the truth as you both see it.”
Jason looked dumbstruck, eyes glued to Tim and then jerking back to Bruce as the older man spoke again. “I am to blame. I let the mission cloud my judgment and you paid for it. I can’t—I won’t let that happen again.” Bruce’s eyes flickered over Tim and then on to Dick and Damian.
Bruce gave them all the smallest of smiles before turning back to Jason. He brought his other hand up to the younger man’s shoulder so that he could hold him steady as he looked him in the eye. “Believe me when I say I care. I care about my family more than anything, and believe me when I tell you that as part of it, I care about you, Jason.”
Jason crumbled at the words, under the weight of the truth, and Bruce gathered him into his strong arms. Tim was only able to tear his eyes away when Dick tugged at his sleeve.
Dick gestured toward the steps to the mansion— Damian already climbing them. Tim nodded, following his brother in an attempt to give the warring sides of his family privacy to heal.
A smile twitched his lips as he took one final glance behind him, watching the way Jason and Bruce clung to each other as they finally let the tears fall. The mission had been a disaster, but perhaps not everything they got from it was worthless.