Chapter Text
Soaking wet and shaking from the cold, Jason entered his father’s bedroom window. Willis sat up drowsily in bed. His eyes, not accustomed to the pitch-black darkness of his bedroom, scanned for the source of the disturbance. It wasn’t that he heard anyone or anything strange during the storm. It was a feeling. Something strange and familiar in the pit of his stomach whenever someone was watching him. He wasn’t the best fighter or the best tactician, but he learned one thing from his mother, and it’s kept him alive this long. He never slept too deeply in Gotham. Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating the room with a quick yellow flash, and revealing Jason’s position in the corner. “Shit,” Willis cursed under the sound of the rumbling thunder that shook the building. “You ran away again… Didn’t you?”
Jason nodded with tears in his eyes. Willis turned the light on, climbed out of bed, and set Jason in a chair before stripping off the small boy’s wet clothes. Jason stifled his breathing to keep from crying as he dug his nails into his knees. “You can cry,” Willis whispered as he looked at the bruises that covered Jason’s body and face. Jason stared at the ground and shook his head. Willis took him by the shoulders, gently enough to avoid putting pressure on dark purple bruises, and he looked Jason in the eyes. “I said it’s okay.” Jason inhaled deeply as a whimper escaped his throat, and he wept openly. Willis picked him up and grabbed a towel from the closet, wrapping him in it. Jason was never more his age than when he cried. He sounded so small and powerless. Willis could only pat and rub Jason’s back to keep from crying, too.
Willis sat him on the bathroom counter, turning to run a hot bath as he tried to find something comforting to say. He hadn’t seen Jason in months. It was always like this when he got to see Jason, though. The traveling and training were intense, and Jason had seen more than most old men saw in a lifetime. Jason was only five years old. Jason was smart, he was crafty, and would have remained hidden for as long as he wanted… But he always returned home to Willis.
“I think she loves you the only way she knows—.” Willis closed his eyes, thinking of his own mother. “I love you the only way I know how. I love Shiva the only way I know how. I think it’s shaping you into a beautiful person. You’re going to be stronger than anyone I know, and you’ll be smart enough to know being gentle is your greatest strength.”
Jason sniffed and took a deep breath as he watched Willis turn the cold water on and swirl a hand around in the tub before scooping up a handful of bubbles. He blew them at Jason to coax a laugh out of the distraught child. “Can I sleep here?” Jason asked. Willis grinned.
“Sure. I’d like that a lot, Champ,” Willis replied, “Okay. Let’s get you in that tub before you catch a cold.” He stood Jason in the water and took the towel before letting Jason sit in the tub. He took a rag and doused it in the water before wiping Jason’s face. He took another rag and gave it to Jason.
“Are you hungry?” Willis questioned. Jason nodded. “I’ll heat something up in a little bit. I’ve got some pretty good leftovers.”
Jason used Willis’ soap bar to lather up and wash his arms and legs. “Give me that bar real quick,” Willis whispered as he washed Jason’s back and behind his ears. “My old man died when I was a kid, but I always remember how important cleanliness was to him. Pop had the cleanest hands, and they were soft. His knuckles usually were cut up from work, but his hands were clean and soft.”
“What did he do?” Jason asked.
Willis chuckled despite the sadness he felt looking back on it. “He worked for the Sabatinos way back. You would’ve loved Pop. He loved kids. As mean and tough as he was with adults, he was—. Pop used to dress up like Santa Claus and bring gifts to kids in the receiving homes every year. I used to hate it because he’d make me dress up like an elf and help him. He did bad things, but he was a good man in his heart. That’s how I saw him,” Willis whispered.
Willis swallowed the lump in his throat before grabbing the shampoo bottle. “Close your eyes. I’m gonna wash your hair,” Willis commanded.
Jason obeyed and held onto Willis’ wrist. “Did someone kill him?” Jason asked.
“No. He got sick,” Willis replied, “And I had to go live with Ma. She was tough on me, too. So, I get it. I get how you feel, but Gotham’s a hard place. When you’re grown up, you’ll see she was only protecting you.” It sounded better than the truth. Willis begged Shiva to take him because someone had come for Jason before. Someone who knew Shiva. She said yes on the condition that she’d be allowed to train him however she saw fit without complaint. It was the only way Willis could ensure Jason’s survival. But how could he explain that to a five-year-old?
Jason never had much to say when he returned. So, Willis always tried to push a conversation because he liked the sound of Jason’s voice. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a really long time,” Willis asked.
“We were in California… And then we went to South America… In the forest,” Jason answered. His answers were always vague, but knowing something made Willis comfortable. “How do you wake up when I come in? I didn’t make any noise.”
“I can feel you looking at me. I always wake up when people look at me,” Willis answered as he rinsed Jason’s hair and washed his face. “I don’t have any Jason-sized clothes right now. You’re gonna have to wear one of my sweatshirts until I can scrounge something up… Okay, let’s dry you off. Are you warm now?” Willis drained the tub and dried Jason off with a clean towel, careful not to be rough while drying his face.
“Uh-huh… Thank you,” Jason whispered.
“You’re welcome… Up we go,” Willis replied playfully as he carried Jason back to his room, pulled an old sweatshirt over Jason’s head, and threw him a pair of shorts. “Put these on. Don’t worry, I know I’ve got some string or something—.” Jason pointed to the pack of shoelaces on the dresser. “Genius. Genius.” Willis tied the shoelace around Jason’s shorts and took his hand as he led him to the kitchen.
Willis took the leftovers from the fridge and tossed them in the microwave. When it beeped, Willis took it out of the microwave and grabbed two forks. Jason leaned forward, watching Willis dance around the kitchen, and he laughed. He gave Jason a fork and took the napkin off the container. They dug into the pasta, and Willis stared, wide-eyed and hopeful as Jason took a bite. Jason finished chewing and made a soft noise like a laugh as he closed his eyes. “It’s that good,” Willis chuckled, “Almost makes you wanna curse, huh?”
Jason smiled and shook his head. “That’s right. You don’t curse because you’re a good kid". Willis took another bite and wiped his mouth before kissing Jason’s forehead. “Man, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too, Daddy,” Jason whispered. Daddy. Jason didn’t use that word much, so Willis always got a little choked up when he heard it. He had to enjoy it while he had the time.