Chapter Text
From his vantage point tucked deep within the shadows, Bruce engaged the infrared filter on his cowl. The figures coming in and out of the back entrance of the warehouse became easier to track, but he still couldn’t see as much detail as he’d like.
“I count three people,” he said. “Seems like they’re about halfway through loading up the truck.”
“Make that four,” Tim’s voice said over the comm system. “There’s a guard at the north entrance, right behind the backup generator.”
“Hn.” The heat from the generator would have masked the guard from Bruce’s point of view, but that’s why he wasn’t working this case alone.
There was another reason, too. He was trying to lead by example. Having an eight-year-old son made it all the clearer just how much Bruce’s behaviour was echoed back to him by his children, and he had been trying to demonstrate the behaviour he wanted with things like safety and risk taking. So far, he’d seen some positive results, and so he’d made a private commitment to try to bring in a partner as often as possible in the hopes that the others would start to do the same.
Of course, the whole scheme also had the benefit of Bruce being able to work with Tim tonight. They had been as well matched as always when planning to intercept a shipment of what looked like a new variation of fear gas. A couple of the men here tonight had ties to Crane, and the banking information corroborated that.
The plan was to prevent the shipment, collect as much data as possible, and detain the men for future questioning. It was a solid plan, and Bruce knew he could trust Tim to execute it perfectly.
“You think there’s an opening?” he asked.
Tim hummed. “I don’t know if that matters. We’re going to have to go sooner rather than later.”
Then another voice joined their comm channel. “May I remind you, gentlemen, that your safety is the most important element of this plan.”
“Timing is important, Agent A. If this truck starts moving…” Bruce would take the odds on a back alley fight over a high-speed chase with a vehicle full of fear toxin any day. Alfred would understand that, too, although he may not like it.
But then yet another voice suddenly spoke into Bruce’s ear. “You guys should just blow up the whole truck. That’d be awesome.”
It was Jason. Bruce would recognize him anywhere, although he rarely heard that voice through the comm systems.
Tim let out a choked laugh. “Baby Hood, what are you doing up so late?”
Jason let out an affronted huff. “It’s not that late.”
“It’s almost midnight,” Bruce corrected. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“...no.”
Bruce held back a sigh. The nightmares were becoming less frequent as Jason got older, but increased age came with increased stamina and now it was taking longer for him to settle back down after a bad dream.
Tim was the first one to break the silence. “It’s okay, Little Hood. B’s gonna be home soon.”
“Names,” Bruce growled.
“I literally didn’t use one.”
“I—” Bruce paused.
No, Tim hadn’t used a name, but Bruce didn’t like the idea of someone using a diminutive of Red Hood on the comms. While the rumour that Jason Wayne was somehow Red Hood’s biological son remained a fringe theory, they absolutely did not need to be doing anything to stoke it.
“We should play it safe,” he finally settled on saying. Better to think of a code name for Jason that wasn’t connected to any of his former aliases. Although what would actually be better was if Jason wasn’t on the comms at all and was safe in bed and asleep. “Agent A, I wasn’t aware you were having a guest with you tonight.”
“Yes, well, our guest happens to have some very strong opinions of where he should be spending his time. You’re welcome to convince him otherwise when you arrive back to base, sir.”
“I wasn’t gonna sleep anyway,” Jason grumbled. “And blowing up the truck is a good plan! No one else is close by, right?”
“Hn.” Jason was right about that, but his overeagerness for explosives had been a sticking point with Bruce for years now. How was it that that habit hadn’t changed despite all the others that had?
“We want to preserve as much evidence as we can,” Tim said.
Jason let out a heavy sigh. “Bor-ring.”
“If you’re bored, go to bed,” Bruce countered.
“I—”
“B.” The change in tone of Tim’s voice brought them all to the present. “That’s the last barrel. It’s now or never.”
“Right.” Bruce readied his grapple gun and pulled his rebreather into place. “On my mark.”
“Be careful!” Jason called out.
As Bruce descended, he wondered just how hard Alfred had worked to keep Jason off of the comms. Those final words had made an impact, and knowing that his youngest son was listening in on everything was a strong motivation to stay safe.
Unfortunately, Bruce had another son to protect tonight and that meant taking on certain risks for himself. It wasn’t long before he found himself backed into the shipping container with three of the guards all on his own.
They had only a moderate amount of training and skill, but the confined, dark space was enough of a challenge that Bruce had to pay attention. He managed to incapacitate the biggest guard by a well-aimed kick to the head, but the second one gave him some trouble by bringing out a pistol. A stray shot was bound to ricochet in a space like this, and Bruce wasn’t in the mood to gamble over where it might land. Having to get the gun away without it going off meant that Bruce took his attention off the third guard for just two seconds.
That was all the time he needed to release the valve on one of the tanks and make his escape.
The hissing sound of gas leaking out of the tank cut through all the other noise. The guard with the gun heard it, too, snapping his head around to find the source of the sound. That was all Bruce needed to deal with the weapon. He snatched the gun away, switched the safety back on, and then landed a heavy blow to the side of the man’s head. As he ejected the magazine, he double-checked the seal on his air filter.
He could breathe normally, and the sensors all indicated that everything was working as it should, so he took the time to search for the open valve on the tank and shut it off. The trailer felt eerily silent in the aftermath.
“Red Robin,” Bruce said.
“I’m fine, Batman. I caught your runner, by the way. You’re welcome.”
There was no exertion in Tim’s voice. He sounded as calm and clear as ever. It was a positive sign.
Then Bruce realized he hadn’t heard from the cave recently. “Agent A.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you— Do you still have…” Dammit, maybe they needed a code name for Jason after all.
“I’m still here!” Jason piped up, thankfully guessing what Bruce had been trying to hint at. “That was still pretty bad ass even though there weren’t any explosions.”
His words were as cheery and bright as ever, but something about it still made Bruce unsettled. Jason was strongly attached to Bruce. It was difficult for him to think about Bruce in any sort of danger, and even though there hadn’t been much risk in the fight just now, it would have been very intense for an eight-year-old child with anxiety.
“I’ll be home soon,” Bruce assured him. There was still work to do here, but they could cut it short. Jason had already had at least one nightmare tonight and now he’d witnessed this violent scene. He needed Bruce.
“Batman.” Tim dropped down from the top of the shipping container and levered the doors open even further, masked eyes skimming the scene expertly.
“Don’t come inside!” Bruce moved forward, taking Tim by the arm and steering them both out of the container and into the cool night air.
“I’m fine, B! I have my rebreather on.”
“A leak is always a possibility. And the tank valve was open for approximately thirty seconds.”
“Oh. Crap.” Tim winced as he glanced back at the truck. “Are you—”
“I’m fine. I was masked the entire time.”
“Right.” Tim stared at him for a second longer. “Should still probably head back for decontamination and testing sooner rather than later. That container definitely counts as an enclosed space.”
Dammit. That was the policy Bruce had set in place, wasn’t it? Normally, he was in favour of this important precaution, but right now that would mean leaving Tim behind to deal with the rest of the scene here.
And Tim knew all about that, didn’t he? There was a subtle smirk sitting on his face that Bruce could see despite the mask and rebreather that were still in place.
Bruce switched his comm over to the main channel. “Is there anyone else in the area who can assist Red Robin?”
“What? B, c’mon, I can handle—”
“I’m on my way back, but I can swing by,” Dick replied.
“I’m closer,” Stephanie chimed in quickly. “Just two minutes out.”
Tim rolled his eyes, another move that Bruce could read no matter what was obscuring his face. At the moment, Bruce was glad for his own rebreather. It meant he didn’t need to school his expression as carefully as he clapped Tim on the back.
“Nightwing could use some rest,” he decided. “Spoiler, you can meet up with Red Robin and assist with disposing of the fear toxin. Keep me updated regularly on your progress.”
Going back to the cave was the right call. Jason needed him, and Bruce needed to set a good example. Plus, there was the very real chance that there was residue from the gas on his suit, which needed to be dealt with properly.
All of that was true, and yet Bruce started to regret his decision after only a couple of minutes on the road. It was possible that the two men he’d taken out could regain consciousness, and they would have been exposed to the toxin for much longer. People were dangerous when they were afraid. There was also the chance that something else could go wrong while Tim and Stephanie searched the lab or supervised the cleanup.
At the same time, Bruce needed to check on Jason. That was the constant reality of having a young child in his care, and Bruce was reminded of that responsibility every time Jason called him ‘Dad’, and every time Jason’s eyes sought him out when he came into the room. Jason depended on Bruce in a way that went beyond what any other member of the family did. Tonight, he’d been unable to get back to sleep while Bruce was still out, and the best way to solve that problem was for Bruce to get home as quickly as possible.
The mental divide nagged at him the entire drive back to the cave, and he was still distracted by it when he went through his security protocols and parked the Batmobile. That was why he didn’t notice Jason’s presence until it was too late.
As soon as Bruce stepped out of the car, Jason ploughed right into him, squishing his body right against the suit and wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist.
Bruce’s heart dropped. “Jason! No!”
Flinching, Jason took a step back. “I—”
“Weren’t you paying attention? There was fear toxin! You— My suit was exposed.”
“Sorry,” Jason said. Whispered, rather. The colour had drained from his face and he had a stunned, blank expression.
He was wearing just a simple set of pyjamas and a pair of Batman-themed socks. There was nothing that would protect him against dangerous, mind-altering chemicals. Nausea lurched inside of Bruce.
“You know how to be careful with this kind of thing! We’ve gone over safety training for all potential toxin exposures.”
“I know! I— I forgot…”
The nausea was growing, climbing up Bruce’s throat and choking him where he stood. “This is important! If you can’t follow the protocols—”
“What’s going on?” Dick appeared, still dressed in his Nightwing suit. Alfred followed close behind, but even the presence of those two didn’t help Bruce feel better. They hadn’t been here in time. Jason had gotten hurt.
“He touched my suit,” Bruce said, every word feeling poisonous in his mouth. “He—”
And it was already too late. Tears were welling up in Jason’s eyes; his breathing was becoming unsteady. He reached out to Bruce again, an instinctual move from being in distress and having his father here in the same room as him. It took everything Bruce had to step away. He couldn’t touch Jason again, not with his suit coated in toxic chemical residue.
“We’ll need to take samples from my suit,” he said. “And pull up the files of the most recent antidotes. We’ll have to do a blood test to see the level of exposure.” All the standard actions they took any time someone was exposed. Except it was Jason who would have to go through all of those protocols.
“Dad…” Fear was slowly creeping onto his face.
It had to be a fast-acting version, then. What was the potency? Was there any hope that it had been weakened by the indirect exposure? As much as Bruce wished that to be true, he’d never been an optimist with that sort of thing.
“I’m sorry, Dad!” Now the tears were falling in earnest. Jason wrapped his arms tightly around himself and gasped for air. “I— I didn’t mean to…”
“I’ve got him, B,” Dick said. He put his hand on Jason’s shoulder.
“No!” Jason tried to wriggle out from Dick’s touch, and another dagger of guilt dug deeply into Bruce. “No, I— I don’t need to—”
“Jay!” Dick kept hold of his brother through it all. “Jay, it's okay. We’ll run some tests and—”
“No…” With a wailing sob, Jason finally gave up, sagging against Dick and letting himself be picked up and carried out of the room.
It was horrible. It was painful. It was—
“Master Bruce.”
Alfred’s clear, commanding voice shocked Bruce into stopping. His feet had been carrying him forward on their own accord, bringing him in the direction Dick and Jason had gone. Alfred had been right to stop him; it was horrifically dangerous. He was the reason why Jason was suffering. He had been the one to hurt his son.
“We need to get you cleaned off, sir.”
It took everything Bruce had to be able to push through the rigorous decontamination process he’d set in place. His mind spiralled endlessly, revisiting those few horrific seconds where Jason had first been exposed. He’d blink and suddenly find himself in a new place: the preparation room, the cold shower, the locker room, the second shower. Alfred prodded him through the entire process, took care of his gear, and handled the blood test that came standard with any sort of fear gas exposure.
“I need to see Jason,” Bruce said as soon as he’d changed into a set of warm, comfortable, clean clothes.
“He’s being cared for,” Alfred said, which wasn’t nearly good enough.
Bruce went towards the door. “I need—”
“Master Bruce, might I remind you that Jason was under considerable distress the last time you saw him.”
“That’s why I need to see him again.”
“I’m aware. You might consider what Master Jason needs.”
Something hard formed in Bruce’s chest. “He needs his dad.”
Alfred drew in a breath, but Bruce wasn’t interested in what he had to say.
“Did Dick message you? Did he give Jason an antidote yet?” He kept walking, not bothering to wait for an answer. He’d be able to get an update once he saw Dick.
Alfred followed him. “Yes, we’ve been in contact. Master Bruce, if you would—”
But the rest of what he had to say was lost. Finally, Bruce saw Jason again.
He was with Dick, coming down the same passageway that Bruce had been walking up. He was in a fresh set of pyjamas and his hair was damp from the shower just like Bruce’s was. They’d done the whole decontamination process too, then, just in a different part of the cave.
Even though Jason was standing on his own two feet, Bruce could tell that he was struggling. There was a pained, fearful expression on his face as he tore away from Dick and reached out to Bruce.
And finally, Bruce didn’t have to hold back. He raced across the corridor and scooped Jason up into his arms. Jason clung on tightly, burying his nose against Bruce’s neck. He was warm and heavy and alive. He smelled faintly like soap.
“You’re okay,” Bruce whispered into his son’s ear. “You’re safe.”
Now that he could see and hold Jason, he could start to believe that for himself.
Jason shifted in his arms. “I know. I— Are you okay?” He lifted his head, blue eyes tilted up at Bruce.
There was still something hidden within them. Even with their best antidotes, it took time for fear toxin to completely work its way out of someone's system. Jason was so much smaller than the rest of them, so much more vulnerable to those manufactured fears. There was an entire catalogue of trauma tucked away in his mind, just waiting for an opportunity to escape.
“Dad?”
Jason’s hand rested on Bruce’s cheek. He stared upwards with those haunted eyes.
Bruce knew what he had to do. He needed to be that strong, steady presence that his son craved. Jason was too young to handle this kind of thing by himself, and Bruce was the best person to help him.
“I’m alright,” he told Jason, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could manage. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m going to make sure you stay safe.”
Maybe someday, he’d be able to keep that promise.