Chapter Text
Jason bit his lip, took a deep breath, and concentrated. He knew he could do it, but he still went really slow and really careful because there was no way he was gonna let himself screw up with this even a little bit. Cass was staying really still, too, which helped so it ended up not taking a lot of time at all for him to cover the cut on her leg with brand new fresh gauze and then tape it up neatly so the whole thing was protected. Then, finally, he lifted his head and checked to see what Alfred thought.
“Excellent work, Master Jason. A flawless job.”
Jason let out a relieved sigh. “Okay. Cool.” He gathered up all the little packages and used cleaning wipes and things to put in the trash and then finally peeled his gloves off and threw those out, too. “These ones are still kinda big for me.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately, medical glove manufacturers do not make any sizes beyond extra small.”
Grumbling, Jason rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t be that upset. How many eight-year-olds were doing this kind of first aid stuff anyway? And then Cass made him forget the whole thing by grabbing him from behind, lifting him up onto her lap, and planting a big, loud kiss on the top of his head.
“Good job, baby brother.”
“Ugh, Cass! You gotta be careful of your stitches. Cuts like yours take at least five to ten days to heal.”
She laughed and did another big kiss. “Nerd.”
“Shut up! I’m right, aren’t I, Alfred?”
“Indeed you are. Miss Cassandra, I spent considerable effort stitching up your wound the other night; I would rather it didn’t go to waste.”
Finally, she shifted Jason over to the side so he wasn’t pressing on her leg, but she still kept her arms around him. He didn’t try to move away just yet. Her hugs were nice.
“I think I’m ready to try doing the stitches part myself sometime,” Jason said. “I’ve been practicing on all those oranges and bananas, remember? And you said they look really good now.” Jason knew they looked good. It’d been super annoying to have to train his clumsy little kid fingers to be able to do basic sutures, but he’d figured it out in the end and then he’d practiced lots until it felt like barely any effort.
That’s kinda what it was like now. He sucked at literally everything on his very first try, but when he really put his mind to it, he could pick up on new stuff really fast.
“You do have a respectable degree of technical skill,” Alfred agreed. There was a concerned frown on his face. “Accessing those skills in an emergency situation is an additional challenge.”
Jason’s stomach tightened, but he didn’t back down. “Okay, but… but I just need to practice to be able to deal with those stupid big emotions. It’s always the same with that shi— stuff. I can’t get better at it unless I try.”
“You can try on me,” Cass volunteered. She ruffled Jason’s hair. “Next time.”
Alfred sent her a serious look. “I would hope that ‘next time’ is a long way off for you.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jason agreed.
She hummed and rested her chin on top of Jason’s head. He shuffled sideways on the cot to get a little bit closer to her.
Obviously, he didn’t want anyone in his family to get hurt. But he knew that they would. That’s just how it was with them. So, the next best option was for Jason to be able to help. He’d already learned a ton of first aid stuff from Alfred, and he was really good at giving out basic medication and checking for concussions. Now, he could add changing bandages to the list. Doing stitches was another really common thing that needed to happen downstairs and Jason was feeling really ready to help with that.
So, he’d just have to wait to see when he’d have the chance.
After a month into living with the Waynes, Duke was finally getting used to some things. Little things, like having multiple pairs of shoes to choose from instead of just one pair that he wore to oblivion. Or having fancy home cooked meals three times a day with a rotating group of people depending on who was at the manor at that time. And then there was the fact that Duke was living in a place that was actually called a manor.
He’d also gotten used to waiting on the bench just outside the school office every day for the family butler to come pick him up after lunch. As silly as it had made him feel at the start, Duke had come to enjoy the quiet drives over to Burnley Psychiatric, and he’d liked getting the chance to talk with Alfred one-on-one. It was hard to do that in the manor with everyone else there.
With people like Jason, who had suddenly come out of nowhere and plopped down on the bench right beside Duke.
“Ha! You didn’t even notice I was coming over, did you?”
“No.” Duke rolled his eyes good naturedly. Jason had been sneaking up on Duke a couple times a day for the last week or so, and he was scarily good at it. Of course Batman’s kid was as big of a fan of those awareness drills as the man himself. “How come you’re here anyway? Don’t you have recess right now?”
“Only for another five minutes. And Alfie’s dropping off my science project. I, um, forgot I was supposed to have it here today.” His shoulders drooped, and he looked kind of sad and guilty about that, so Duke flashed the kid a reassuring smile, nudging gently against him.
“Well, Alfred was coming here to get me anyway, so it worked out.”
Jason shrugged. “I guess.”
He hadn’t bounced all the way back, so Duke searched around for another topic. “Hey, what’s the sticker for?”
“Oh.” A faint blush crept onto Jason’s cheeks as he looked down at the bright blue sticker on the front of his shirt. “Just for, um… keeping my cubby clean. Ms. Cheryl does, like, a random check every once in a while and then gives them out if yours doesn’t have a bunch of old papers and broken pencils and shit in it.”
“Aw, that’s cool. Congrats, bro.”
“I know it’s not actually that big a deal.” The blush was getting even darker now and Jason’s gaze was jumping around to odd places, looking anywhere but Duke.
“I mean, it seems like it’s important if your teacher’s giving out rewards for it.”
Jason chewed on his lip and shrugged silently.
“And obviously not everyone keeps their space clean,” Duke continued. “So, it’s good that you did. And you get a sticker out of it! Who doesn’t like stickers?”
Finally, Jason lifted his head to look at Duke, staring intensely like there was some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out. Blowing out a sigh, he slumped over again.
“Look, this kind of stuff is just… weird for me. Because of how things were… you know, before.”
That deeply concentrated look was still there, but even though Duke couldn’t exactly figure it out, he was pretty sure he had a good idea. Over the last few months, he’d picked up on a lot of little tidbits about Jason that weren't in the vague public story that everyone else knew.
Jason was originally from Crime Alley. Both of his parents had passed away, and it seemed like his dad had been abusive and his mom had been dealing with too much of her own struggles to be an engaged parent. Jason had had at least one terrible foster home placement before spending some time on the streets and then eventually being adopted by Bruce. And that was when he was, what, six years old? Geez, that was a hell of a lot for a kid to go through in a tiny amount of time.
Obviously, Jason would have had a huge adjustment in joining the Wayne family that was a lot like the one Duke was dealing with right now. Things like stickers from your sweet, attentive, private school teacher probably still felt really frivolous to a kid who used to not even have a roof over his head.
“I get that it probably feels weird,” Duke said, “but there’s nothing wrong with having fun with this kind of thing. Just… enjoy the present, you know?”
Jason's posture relaxed, and a small smile snuck onto his face. “Yeah, okay. That’s, uh, kinda what I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
“Cool. That’s great, Jay.”
They didn’t have time to talk about it more than that because that’s when Alfred showed up, dressed in an expensive wool coat and carrying a poster of the life cycle of a pepper plant. The whole thing was done with clear, detailed hand drawings, obviously something that Damian had been helping with.
Jason ducked in for a quick hug and then took the poster. “Thanks, Alfie. Sorry I forgot it.”
“I’m happy to help, Master Jason. And Master Duke? You look ready as always.”
“Yeah.” Duke stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “See you at home, Jason.”
“Kay. Bye, Duke! Bye Alfred!”
Duke’s good mood stayed buoyed all the way to Burnley Psychiatric. Visiting his parents was so much better than it used to be. Even though it had been just a few weeks, you could already see how the Wayne Foundation money was helping to make things better. There were way more staff and the few who were really sketchy had been replaced. The activity hall had gotten a fresh coat of paint and all of the showers had been treated for mold. One of the old wings was getting totally remodelled into a transitional program to help patients gain independence before they were discharged and Duke was hoping that by the time it was done, his parents would qualify for it.
Although for now, the catatonia they were both suffering was still way too severe for anything like that.
“C’mon, Mom, you’ve always liked sweet potatoes before,” Duke coaxed. He took the spoon on her plate, loaded it with a small bite, and pointed the handle towards her. If she saw it, (and if it was a good day) she’d sometimes reach for it on her own.
Her eyes were as blank as always, though, so Duke swallowed back any more words and turned towards his dad.
“Hey, so, I started working on that electrical engineering project at school.” No response. Which was fine. Duke had come to expect that. And anyway, there was always the chance that there was some hidden part inside his parents that was still listening, so he kept right on talking. “Mr. Ruiz says it could be a contender for the symposium that’s coming up. It’s, uh, sort of like a science fair? I think that—”
A hand landed on his arm, and he turned, sharply, towards it.
“Mom?” Finally, he could see something there behind her vacant gaze. Some kind of spark that looked like she recognized him. She tilted her head; eyes locked steadily onto him. “Hey, Mom, I—”
Then, just as quickly as it had come, it morphed. Her expression twisted into a sickening, grotesque smile and her grip tightened painfully.
“Mom, stop. That’s too hard.” He tried to tug his arm away, but she wasn’t budging. Her fingernails bit into his skin. “Mom.”
A pair of nurses hustled over. While the staff changed depending on the day, Duke knew the choreographed moves by heart. One of the nurses would place their hands on his mom’s shoulders and hum softly, keeping a steady pressure while the other would subtly prepare a sedative in a syringe.
Today, just like most days, the sedative wasn’t necessary. That little bit of pressure and that close contact with a person in scrubs was all it took for Duke’s mom to slide back out of awareness yet again. Her grip slackened, her expression smoothed over, and she slumped back in her wheelchair. The spark in her eyes was gone, too.
Duke took his arm back, holding it against his chest as he nodded an acknowledgement to the nurses.
It was probably for the best. His mom slipping back into that haze was way better than a full venom-induced episode; he knew that. It was just… Sometimes he wished that those weren’t the only two options. Sometimes he wished that he could go back and stay in that one tiny moment where he’d seen his mom look out at him again.
“How’s your arm, honey?”
He shook his head to get rid of those useless dreams. No matter how nice it was to think about, that wasn’t the reality he lived in. He was here, in the dining hall of the hospital while an orderly wheeled his mom back to her room. As short as that episode had been, it always tired her out afterwards. They’d have to try to get her to eat later on today.
Duke flashed a brittle smile to Jeanie, one of his favourite nurses on staff. “It’s fine. She didn’t break the skin or anything.” There’d maybe be a bruise tomorrow, and he could see the sharp crescent shapes from her nails digging in, but it wasn’t anything that needed treatment.
Jeanie gave him a look that made his chest feel tight. “I’m sorry, Duke. She’s been having a good day, but… We still get the occasional episode.”
“Yeah. I know.” Duke watched as his dad stood up silently and wandered in the same direction his mom had gone. Both of their meal trays were basically untouched. The staff had them both on a specific diet to help with this kind of thing, and it was good that people were taking care of it, but…
Dammit. So much for independent living.
“I’m gonna, uh…” Duke stood, talking before a plan even settled in his mind. His throat was getting just as tight as his chest, and he needed space. “...go for a walk.”
“Sure, hon.” Jeanie put her hand on his shoulder and the look she gave him made his throat tighten even more. There was an itchy, restless feeling building up inside of him. “You take all the time you need.”
He left the hospital, feet moving quickly beneath him and neck burrowed deep into the collar of his jacket, the one that Alfred had bought him just last week. He hadn’t recognized the brand, but he knew it was probably crazy expensive and… That’s what his life was like now. He had fancy, brand-new clothes that kept him warm in the winter, but his parents weren’t with it enough to even notice—
His breath hitched and he drew in a short sniff as he plodded onwards, ducking his head down against the chilly wind. The bite of the cold and the pounding of his feet still weren’t enough to dislodge the horrible, sharp ache that was stuck deep inside of him.
God, he needed to get over himself. This is what he’d wanted. He’d found his parents. They were being looked after. He had stable housing and a foster family that actually seemed to give a shit about him. What else did he need? There were a million people in Gotham who were way worse off.
That’s when, right on cue, he heard a sound coming from the alley.
It was a muffled scream followed immediately by a growly command. The sound put Duke on immediate alert. He slowed and lightened his steps.
“I swear that’s everything I have.”
“Are you stupid? I told you; I’m looking for cash!”
“I don’t— This is all—” A strained sob cut off whatever else the person was going to say.
The painful ache in Duke's chest shifted. It still hurt, but now it was gaining a kind of energy. A weird kind of ineffable something that he could pull together and actually put into action. And just the act of actually doing something made everything hurt a little bit less.
“Hey.” Duke stepped around the corner, keeping his shoulders square and taking up as much space as he could manage. “I think you’re the one who’s not that smart. She said that’s all she had.”
It worked just like Duke had planned. All attention went to him.
The girl, a teenager maybe around Duke’s age, gasped, eyes flying wide open as she stood there with her purse contents flung across the pavement. The would-be thief growled and whirled around to face Duke. He was about Duke’s height, with just a bit more muscle. He wore a dirty blue hat pulled down low over his eyes and a scraggly beard covered the bottom half of his face.
He gave Duke a once-over and then sneered. “This isn’t your business, kid.”
“I’m making it my business.” Duke took a step closer. That energy from before thrummed even stronger. He could feel it buzzing in his hands and surging in his veins. The painful ache in his chest was totally gone and his head felt completely clear. “And who even carries cash anymore? I don’t know how you think you’re going to get something out of her that doesn’t even exist, but—”
Then, suddenly, the guy darted forward. Duke had been expecting something like that already, and he moved to block the attack, using some of the training that Bruce had been drilling into him down in the cave. It gave the girl the chance to escape out the other side of the alley, which was exactly what Duke had wanted, but then something happened that he didn’t expect.
A knife.
One that slashed through the sleeve of Duke’s fancy-ass jacket and sliced into Duke’s arm. He felt the bite of the blade, but didn’t back down, kicking out with his foot and knocking the guy off balance in a classic Narrows move that he’d mastered years ago. The mugger stumbled back, knife still in his hand.
Duke wasn’t backing down. With a snarl, he took another step forward, not wavering for a second. He’d learned that growing up in the Narrows, too. Don’t show a second of weakness; never be the first one to blink.
And it worked. The mugger scrambled to his feet and then ran off down the street, not looking back even once.
A heavy gasp burst out of Duke. Now that he was alone, he could afford to slump against the wall and catch his breath as the adrenaline slowly drained out of him. Sticky blood was trickling down his arm and with a grimace, Duke clamped onto the cut with his opposite hand.
It stung. The blood dripped onto the grimy asphalt at his feet.
Well, shit. This was going to be a problem, wasn’t it?