After coming out of the timestream, Jason does not have sympathy for Bruce “coming back from the dead” and seeing how people got on without him. If Bruce’s takeaway is that Dick is a better father to Damian and that Tim is better at running his company, Jason is absolutely the last shoulder he’s allowed to cry on. And tells him as much.
Because when Bruce came back, he tried to tell Jason that he understood what it was like. Returning to a life that had moved on without him.
And Jason laughs in his face.
“Let’s start with the obvious: you didn’t die.”
“Jason-“
“No, you wanna do this? Fine. But I’m talking and you’re listening.”
“…”
“An actual equivalent of what it would be like huh? Sure.”
“You’re 15 and Alfred thinks you pushed a pickpocket into traffic. And the pickpocket dies. And you can’t convince him that you didn’t push the guy because he does that thing where he lets you talk and talk and talk but doesn’t really respond. So you’re upset he doesn’t believe you and you’re cleaning the attic or tearing it apart in your teen angst - take your pick. When you’re done, you find some of your Mom’s old letters and you realize that Thomas wasn’t your father, not biologically. And your Dad? He’s not dead. He’s out there somewhere doing relief work or something else charitable.”
“So you leave Alf a note and bounce. Sure, it’s another continent, but you know what you’re doing. You meet up with your bio-dad, who signed away his parental rights, and it doesn’t even occur to you that maybe there was a good reason for him doing that. You’re relieved, even for a moment, at the idea there’s an adult that would give a fuck about you. Like they’re supposed to. But your dad’s in trouble and when you go to help him, you realize he sold you out and watches as one of his buddies kicks your teeth in. Really goes for it. And maybe it’s not planned, but there’s a gas leak or bad building codes and the places goes up in flames. You can’t move your broken arms and legs but your lungs work long enough to let you choke to death on smoke. And you know Alfred isn’t coming for you.”
Jason flicks ash into the tray on his balcony and his eyes toward Bruce, who is doing his best Greek statue pose with his back to Jason. But that’s alright.
“So you wake up in your coffin. And you can’t breathe. You break all ten of your fingers digging yourself out. While fighting the hypoxia. Are you still 15? Who knows. It’s only been about six months.”
“It’s raining and dark and you stumble away from the grave you dug yourself out of. And you’re hypoxic. So you get hit by a car, because this is Gotham. And when you’re aware enough in the future to realize where you dug yourself out of, you look down to see you’re buried next to your bio-dad. Alfred didn’t stick you next to the people who raised you.”
“And maybe Alfred has some old SAS buddies who got up to some less than legal government experimentation work. So they dump you into some chemical bath while you’re catatonic and homeless and starving and suddenly you’re you. The you right now that fits in the damn batsuit.”
“And you’re angry. Maybe some of it’s the chemicals fucking with your hormones, but you don’t know that. All you feel is anger.”
“But when you finally have the presence of mind to ask about Alfred, his buddy shows you some headlines. Turns out, while you were gone Alfred took in Dick Grayson. I’m compressing some time here, but suffice to say that Alfred and Dick are living in the manor and there’s a few photos of the kid smiling, even with both his parents freshly dead.”
“Now, tell me this, Bruce. Has anything changed?”
Jason’s turned fully away from the balcony. Bruce might be a statue, but he still caught the movement. Can’t deny the spatial awareness training.
“Alfred is still at Wayne manor, taking care of a young orphan.”
“And that buddy of your bio-dad’s? Let’s say maybe his involvement was pieced together enough to land him in a psych ward. One he can check himself out of. Or maybe just a short stint in low-security lock up. And he’s out in a year or two. Does he keep winding up back inside? Sure, but never for long.”
Jason squints at the line of Bruce’s shoulders. Not much to be learned from them since they’re regularly taut.
“Here’s the real kicker: do you go home?”
Jason lets the silence sit for a bit. Debates continuing the “conversation” if he can call it that. But Bruce really doesn’t seem to be moving one way or another.
“I don’t believe you know how it feels. I don’t think you’re capable of it. What’s that quote about wheels that tread the same paths until they can no longer be turned down a different road? I think that’s how you’re stuck in your own head. I think if you died tomorrow your ghost would still put on the suit for patrol. You are the immovable object forcing the water to flow around you.”
“I don’t think you care about Dick having taken over your mantle or Tim running the company or however the fuck Damian’s doing. Definitely not enough to talk to them about it without blaming them for changing. Because it’s something you’re incapable of.”
“You’re mad that they found a way to move on.”
Bruce still wasn’t moving, but then Jason knew how this would end anyway.
“You can’t move on, Bruce. It’s why you started this whole thing. I was forgotten, ignored, meaningless. I died for nothing because when I came back nothing had changed. You didn’t want it to change. You prevent people from changing. The more things stay the same the more you’re the only one who can fix it. Even if all you’re doing is duct taping a broken system.”
“Do you know how much better Damian has done without you? Do you know how much worse it was for Dick to step into your shoes? Do you know what Tim went through to get you back?”
Jason sighs and closes the door to the balcony behind him. He does his best to maneuver around Bruce, more than an arm’s length away if possible.
“As much fun as this conversation has been, I’ve got better things to do than yell at statues. I texted Dick that we “talked” so if you say something to any of them unprompted they’ll know it’s not their fault, because you’ll damn well tell them it is. I’m the one you’re upset with because I don’t know if you ever figured out how to be upset with yourself. I’ll admit I’m surprised you managed to get this far without the screaming match, but then it would mean admitting you have feelings.”
If Bruce was looking at him, Jason ignored it. He wandered over towards the kitchen and turned on the stove.
“Do I need to kick you out or can you show yourself the door?”
By the time Jason had the pan over the burner, he was alone in his apartment.
AU where Jason gets over his theatre-kid need for dramatics and heat never reveals his identity to the batfam. In fact, he HIDES his identity so well that no one ever finds it out. It’s been years since Red Hood popped up and at this point he’s an unofficial vigilante with crime lord tendencies than anything else
then people start getting suspect . . . But not the right thing
Red hood: *sitting, legs crossed, on a roof ledge* scare me and make me drop my book and l don’t care if you helped me with Penguin last night, I’ll throw you off this roof and I won’t give a shit
Nightwing: *slowly jacks away* um. What book?
Red hood: pride and prejudice.
Nightwing: pride and . . . You know, my brother liked that book.
Red hood: I know he did
Nightwing:
Damian: *feeling uncertain with his title as Robin*
Red Hood: you know, a wise kid once said Robin is magic
Batman: *eyes narrow* what kid?
Red Hood: eh, just someone I used to know
Batman:
Spoiler: so why did ya decide to protect the alley?
Red Hood: I lived there as a kid. I . . . Uh, it just means a lot to me.
Spoiler: *frowning* I assumed you’d lived there.
Red Hood: yeah it um . . . *thinking of Bruce* I met someone important there. He changed my life. And when . . . I, uh, lost him, I decided to clean it up.
Spoiler:
Later, in the bat cave:
Spoiler: so Red Hood . . .
Batman: *gravely* dated Jason.
Nightwing: but he was only fifteen!
Robin: *crossing his arms* people date at fifteen, Richard.
Red Robin: . . . The crime lord dated the second Robin.
Batman: I’m going to kill him. Nightwing: wait, no! You can’t! Jason wouldn’t have wanted it!
Black Bat: he’s family.
Spoiler: *jazz hands* NEW BROTHER
Red Hood: *listening in through their comms* what the fuck
I know people have their own interpretations on characters but I need to get this off my chest because I have been seeing this trope everywhere in fics.
Jason is not a Hot Rage kind of guy. He isn't. He is Cold Fury kind of guy. When he is furious he gets colder, more professional, more formal. Because he can use his anger to fuel his actions. He is patient afterall. He can make 9 different plans to fuck somebody's day up for spite.
Update 06/04/25 : I just woke up from blacking out yesterday. I wrote this when I was very drunk and emotionally constipated. Don't take this too seriously. Everyone is allowed to have their own interpretations.
DUDE. SAME. Except I visualize it being like Star Lord's reaction when Ego tells him he killed his mom. Especially if it happens around everyone. He literally starts throwing anybody trying to stop him like a professional quarterback.
After talking to @jstodd about it, I don't think that Jason has ever been depicted as having long hair, so I think when he gets with Artemis, she would definitely make him grow it out. Bare minimum to shoulder length. He'd look lethal with it. With both Artie, who has long ass hair, and his experience with Catherine, he'd keep that shit super healthy, too. They'd both be obsessed with his hair.
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