For someone Jason clocked as a shit liar, Peter was shockingly adept if it meant he could sow some chaos. He hated to admit it, but Peter was right: the sorry tale he spun was just the right amount of unhinged to have his family buying it. The kind of story that wouldn't have worked on a civilian but seemed perfectly reasonable for people in their line of work.
Jason reflected on this as they strolled back to the conservatory, once Damian had successfully taught Peter how to train Dog. The pair of them trailed behind Jason with the dogs, chatting as close to 'amiable' as the brat ever got. Meaning, to the average person, he'd've been unspeakably rude… good thing Peter wasn't the 'average person' but instead a lunatic who'd already capitalised on the boy's soft spot for animals. Clever fucker.
Not that Jason should've been surprised by that, either. Clever was an understatement when it came to Peter. In the last two weeks, he'd seen first-hand the kinds of things Peter could cobble together from scavenged tech. It was like having Roy around again (if Roy was part raccoon) and his apartment fucking looked it too. Tools and wires and half-assembled gadgets and appliances lying around like discarded clothes. Jason had studied a few pieces and was impressed by Peter's neat circuitry and wiring. Seemed like Jason had picked himself up a new genius. If they ever got to that point, he could see himself asking for Peter's input on some of the armour and surveillance designs he'd been stuck on.
If they ever got to that stage.
If Peter stuck around that long.
But if he did… Jason hoped he could keep the guy around.
For more reasons than he cared to admit.
Jason scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. He wasn't used to someone defending him to his family. It didn't really feel deserved, though he equally felt that was unreasonable to think so. Sure, he fundamentally disagreed with the no-kill policy shared by most of his family members — as far as he was concerned, there were some people who could never be rehabilitated or safely contained — but it wasn't as if he killed indiscriminately. He hadstandards. But when he came across those who had no chance of redemption… those who would just hurt and hurt and hurt until there was nothing left but blood and dust?
Well… those he'd take out without a shred of guilt, knowing he had the vindication of the All-Blades[1] to guide his hands.
And one of these days, he'd use them to take down the worst of the worst…
"Jace?"
He blinked. Peter had joined him, looking up expectantly. Just beyond, Damian watched with an inscrutable expression.
"Sorry, Pete. Off with the fairies." He smiled and reached out. Peter slipped his cool hand into Jason's. His fingers were long and slender, but Jason knew the strength that hid beneath the skin. All Peter would have to do was squeeze an edge over toomuch and he'd crush every bone in Jason's hand. That Peter could touch and hold things like a soldering iron with such delicacy was a testament to his care and self-restraint. Artemis and Bizz might have had super-strength like Peter, but they didn't have half the control. It wasn't out of apathy or malice, but he'd always been nursing bruises around them.
Fuck, Jason missed those bruises. Just like he missed Kori's scalding handprints.
(He tried not to think about how far he'd come that he could acknowledge that… he was ready for introspection, but not that much.)
"Damian invited me to the zoo."
"What?" Jason blurted out. He glanced back at Damian and the teen glared defiantly back.
Ah.
He wanted to test Peter.
"We would require you or Pennyworth to drive us," Damian sneered. Little shit.
"Obviously, you're invited too," Peter added. "No need to just play taxi."
"Debatable," Damian muttered. Peter's lips twitched with amusement. It figured he'd find a kid like Damian charming.
"What day?" Already Jason was thinking of ways to pad it out with other, more polite, siblings. No way was he leaving Peter alone to the gremlin's tender mercies.
"Next Saturday. Or is that not possible, Todd?"
"Saturday is… fine."
He'd make it so.
"Saturday? What's on Saturday?" It was Dick that had spoken. They'd come close enough to be in earshot of the others. The table was cleared, and Tim and Duke had turned up some time during their absence. Both were staring at Peter with poorly disguised fascination.
Jason skimmed his eyes over the two of them. Fortunately, it didn't look like Duke had been injured on patrol. But he noted Duke's faint frown that was quickly smoothed away. Damn. Just their luck Duke would notice something with those funny powers of his. He'd have to send a message, asking Duke to keep quiet about it for now. That sob story of Peter's might actually work in their favour: just pull the 'Peter's terrified of being outed as a meta' card, and Duke would stay quiet at least for a little while. His loyalty lay more with Gotham and its inhabitants than it did with the Bat.
"I am taking Parker to the zoo," Damian said, stiffer now he had the weight of seven pairs of eyes on him.
"Ooh! We've not been there for a while!"
"And it will remain that way, Richard. You are not invit—"
"That's fine, I'll invite myself!"
"I'd like to go!" Steph crowed. Cass nodded in agreement.
"Tt." Damian turned to Peter, who, if anything, just looked wildly amused by the railroading. "We can reschedule, if you wish. To a date unknown to these interlopers."
Peter glanced at Jason in query, and he squeezed their joined hands in approval. Peter looked back at Damian. "I don't mind."
"Can I come?" asked Duke, the politest of the bunch. He kept staring at Jason and Peter's joined hands like Jason had suddenly torn off his own face and called himself a Metropolis Meteors fan, but snapped out of it with Peter's approval. He smiled benignly at Peter. "Hey, I'm Duke."
"Peter. Hi. And sure?"
"I'm Tim!" Tim announced, not content with being ignored. He waved energetically. "Nice to meet you, Pete!"
Peter frowned, for just a second, and Jason held his breath. Did he—?
Then Peter's expression smoothed out. Guess not. "Hi."
Jason let out his breath. It was fine. Peter didn't recognise Tim. Even if he was tentatively confident Peter had been involved in the vigilante-slash-heroing business in his own universe, that didn't mean Jason was about to bring him into the field here. Certainly not while Peter still seemed to be holding on to reality by a thin and shaky thread.
That way tragedy lies.
They were about to join the others at the table when Alfred appeared and announced dinner.
"Dinner?" Peter glanced at the time on his phone. "But it's just past five."
"We eat early," Dick explained as he stood and tucked in his chair like the golden boy he was.
Peter sneaked Jason a wry look. "Guess you don't follow the tribe."
"Oh, that's definitely Jason," Tim said. He seemed to be channelling Dick today with his ebullience. Jason wondered how many milligrams of caffeine were currently coursing through his system. Or maybe he was just delighted to see the 'lone wolf' of the family with an (apparent) vulnerability.
Jason tugged on Peter's hand, about to lead him to the dining room, when Peter was accosted by Tim and Duke and was wrenched from his grip.
"Sorry, Todd," Tim laughed. There was a familiar, manic gleam in his eye. The others had evidently filled the two in. "We're stealing your man. We didn't get to ask him the important questions."
"Important like what?" Peter asked politely. He didn't look the least concerned that he was being dragged away by two strangers. In fact, Jason was pretty sure it was glee he caught in his tone.
"Oh, you know, important stuff, like how the hell do you land yourself a job in computer repairs when you grew up with survivalists?" Duke scoffed, though he was skilled enough to make it come across as teasing.
Peter laughed. He twisted in their grip to shoot Jason a wink. He frowned back.
"Oh, that's pretty simple, really. Dad might not have been an engineer, but he'd always been good with tech, even before they fell down the crazy slide. We were always having to make do. Fix things ourselves. The whole self-sufficiency thing, you know?"
"But aren't they all like, anti-technology or something?"
"Nah. Or at least, they weren't at the start…."
Jason watched Peter get dragged further and further away and was struck with a feeling of fond exasperation. Those three were going to be terribletogether.
A small but strong hand on his forearm stopped him from following. Cass. He tilted his head in question while she shot a meaningful look at Steph, who nodded and tugged Dick away.
Suddenly, it was just Jason and Cass left in among the palms. With the others gone, all was quiet, the usual Gotham orchestra of horns and shouting and the odd percussive gunfire a far cry from the dignified serenity of Bristol.
Her returning stare was placid, but not necessarily friendly.
Jason and Cass… didn't generally get along, what with the whole 'artistic differences' between them. So Jason wasn't surprised by her cool reception, but he was surprised that she'd held him back.
He waited patiently. It was unlikely she was about to chew him out like Steph had attempted to. They'd duked it out before and neither Jason nor Cass were about to change their stances. The last couple of years, they'd come to a cold stalemate (mostly because Cass hadn't actually seen Jason kill anyone during that time… He had to wonder what she'dthought of the whole Penguin incident, though). He was curious to see why she'd held him back.
It shouldn't have, but her silence got to him. Fuck it. He was impatient and uninterested in showing any of the messy feelings her stare conjured up.
"Well?" Jason demanded, and inwardly winced at the hostility in his voice. He hadn't meant to come across as argumentative, but he was wary about Cass, and even warier about Peter being left with Tim. Duke, at least, he could trust not to give Peter the run around. But Timmers didn't always have the strongest grasp of 'normal human interactions'.
Cass stared up at him, and as usual her gaze made him feel two feet tall and stripped of every defence he'd ever managed to build up.
He refused to let it get to him. He was here for Alfred. And a bit for Peter, who desperately needed friends and wasn't about to find those at work. The last thing this evening needed was him and Cass throwing hands.
"He is afraid," she said at last. Jason blinked in surprise.
"Yeah," he said, almost against his will. Cass squeezed his arm.
"It's false," she carried on. "That story."
He huffed a humourless laugh. Of course Cass saw right through them. He'd already counted on it. But much like Barbie, Jason was also counting on her to let the deception slide, provided it did no harm. "Peter wanted to play a joke on Dick."
"Hmm." Cass tilted her head in thought.
"Don't spoil it for him?" he said lowly, aware they could still be overheard if any of their siblings chose to creep up on them. "Dick misinterpreted why he was around. Pete sees it as payback."
Cass' lips twitched. "Fine."
The tension in his chest unwound. "Thanks."
"He's strong, but… hurting," Cass said definitively. "He hides it behind humour… But you know that."
"… Abundantly so." Excruciatingly so. Peter's strongest defence against difficult conversations was misdirection and humour (and gee, wasn't that a foreign experience…). Jason had attempted to bring up the self-harm again earlier in the week, after he'd spotted another livid bruise on the thin skin of Peter's inner bicep, and Peter had panicked and said he'd been practicing kissing…
Peter hadn't emerged from his bedroom for the rest of the evening, despite numerous attempts to cajole him. Jason learnt his lesson.
(Ask him when there was no chance of escape.)
"You're afraid, too," Cass continued. He faintly bristled. Couldn't even help it. "To trust him."
Oh. He shrugged. "Wouldn't you be?"
"Hmm." She didn't appear convinced.
"Are we done here?" He wanted to join the others. Not because he was worried about Peter — Jason didn't expect any hostility while he was gone — but because he wanted to get there before Alfred laid out their meal.
Cass didn't respond. She was still studying him. He tugged his arm out of her grip and turned away.
"Jason."
He paused and glanced back. Cass' serious expression had eased into a wry smile.
"It's a good joke."
Laughter spilled out without permission. "Yeah. Fucking hilarious."
Cass smirked. "You'll be good for each other."
And with that baffling and vaguely unnerving judgement, she stalked past him, out of the conservatory. Jason took a moment to collect himself, then with a heavy sigh, he followed.
A pecking order had already been established when they joined their siblings in the dining room, with Dick at the head, an empty seat for Jason to his right, Damian, Tim and Steph to his left. Peter, fortunately for Jason's peace of mind, was seated opposite Tim. Duke was a much better choice to sit beside. The two were chatting about the quality of Gotham colleges when he sat down.
Cass passed around the table to plop down beside Steph — according to Dick, the two of them had been circling each other for months, but neither had made a move. Jason held back the obnoxious desire to wiggle his brows at the pair suggestively, but only because he didn't want to risk Cass exposing his and Peter's deception so early in the game.
"I'm telling you," Duke was saying to Peter with his usual half-joking, half-serious tone, "you don't want to go higher than a masters here. The PhD to villain pipeline is very real! "
"That sounds like fake news," Peter scoffed. "There's got to be plenty of people with doctorates here who've never dipped their toes into villainy."
Jason raised a brow at the archaic language and then summarily ignored them as Alfred promptly set out dishes, now they were all seated. There were temples of roast beef, boulders of crispy potatoes, glistening gems of honey-glazed carrots, charred wedges of roasted cabbage, butter and thyme sauteéd mushrooms, what looked like a goddamn butternut dauphinoise, a bouquet of those funny Yorkshire puddings ('Because no roast is complete without them, Master Jason', Alfred had informed a younger Jason and quick convert) and an enormous vegetable galette for Damian. Ships of gravy, horseradish cream and a zingy pesto sailed over white linen waters.
"Goddamn," he said when Alfred finally finished (he had refused any of their help. Jason was pretty sure Peter was drooling at the sight, like the black hole he was). The sturdy mahogany table groaned beneath the collective weight of their feast. "You went all out."
Alfred smiled, pleased. His gaze flicked to Peter than back to Jason. "I thought I would treat today as a special occasion."
Ah.
Well. That made him feel like a bit of a mug.
"This looks amazing, Mr Pennyworth," Peter breathed, unaware of Alfred's implicature or Jason's swirling guilt. His dark eyes were trained on the mountains of sliced beef and potatoes set before him, as though it might crumble to dust if he blinked. Jason tried not to think too deeply about that.
"Thank-you, Master Peter. But 'Alfred' is perfectly suitable."
"Okay, Mister Alfred."
Several at the table snorted. Steph actually honked with laughter.
"Oooh, he's a jokester!" she crowed, her earlier antagonism gone. "Watch it, Dick. Looks like your spot as the funny one might be replaced!"
Peter smiled cautiously.
"We can fight for it," Dick said sagely. "You, me, rap battle on the front lawn."
"Bring it," Peter said coolly. Jason sighed heavily.
"No rap battles," he said firmly.
"Spoil sport—"
"Party pooper—"
"Yep. I don't have an interest in watching either of you embarrass yourselves."
"… An exchange of diss tracks?"
Jason didn't know what a diss track was, but he could make a solid guess. "Peter, you are not making a diss track in our apartment."
'Our apartment' he caught Tim mouthing — presumably to himself — and Jason also firmly ignored it.
Peter leaned over Jason to eye Dick. 'Later' he tried to say and Jason placed his hand over Peter's mouth before he could promise anything worse.
"Behave," he told Peter with mock sternness, and Peter fluttered his long lashes at him with innocent affectation.
The grin beneath his hand was infectious. Jason couldn't help but return it and at least one of the people at the table cooed. He drew back his hand, clearing his throat while he hoped it could do the same to the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks. Though he was also slightly-red, Peter winked like the demon he was.
"And on that note of weird adorableness," Tim drawled. "Can we eat?"
It'd be hyperbolic to claim they fell upon the meal like a pack of wolves, but it wasn't too far off, in Jason's honest opinion. Peter, Duke and Tim were the worst of them, piling their plates high as though they'd see a full meal again. Jason was happy he'd forewarned Alfred: he was certain the roast beef on their side was bigger than the one on Tim's.
"So, Peter," Tim asked once they'd filled their plates to their satisfaction and began to eat. "What do you like to do with yourself?"
"Uhm." Peter paused with a forkful of gravy-drowned potato halfway to his mouth. "I like working with computers?"
"Boring and predictable," Steph booed. "Anyone could guess that based on your job. What else do you like?"
To stall, Peter shoved the potato in his mouth. Jason could see him think carefully about his answer. Not like he was about to lie, but as if he actually couldn't think of what to say. Something in Jason's gut twisted unpleasantly at the thought.
"I… liked photography," came Peter's slow answer. Liked. Past tense.
What happened to you, Pete?
Tim's eyes lit up and he straightened in his seat. "Photography? For real? What kind?"
Peter's lips quirked but his stare was distant. "Sports. And landscape — well, street and architecture, really."
"Do you have any photos?"
"I—" Peter's expression shuttered closed. He ducked his chin to avoid the expectant gazes of everyone at the table. "No. They're — ah — all gone."
Jason almost frowned. Peter had come through that portal with his phone. No way there weren't pictures on there. And Peter had sent him a few photos he'd snapped while here in Gotham. They were good, even to Jason's uncultured eye.
But… there was probably a good reason why Peter was unwilling to share anything. Any discrepancies of landmarks would easily be picked up on, even by the least observant of the bats (not that Peter was aware, but he must have enough sense of self-preservation to keep them to himself anyway). It made sense to use his falsified backstory as an excuse.
Tim seemed genuinely sad that Peter didn't have any photos left. Considering he used to be a stalking weirdo as a child (okay… 'used to' maybe didn't apply, but Tim was probably allowed his eccentricities), Jason could understand why he might empathise with Peter.
Jason caught Tim's eye. 'Offer' he mouthed. Tim's eyes widened with surprise. No doubt he'd been expecting Jason to keep Peter away from the rest of them, but Jason wasn't an idiot. There was only so much he could do for Peter by himself. He wasn't pig-headed enough to sabotage someone else's wellbeing because of his own hang-ups. Even if his time in Gotham was temporary, Peter needed more people in his life. Tim was a strong starting point.
And Duke… actually, Duke was probably better.
"That sucks, man," Tim said. "If you wanted, we could hang out some time? Have a platonic camera date? There are some awesome spots around Gotham."
Peter looked up in surprise. "Oh." He glanced at Jason, who shrugged and smiled. "I… yeah. That would be nice."
"Cool!" There was no artifice in Tim's voice: he was genuinely excited by the prospect of a 'platonic camera date'. Jason supposed he didn't get a lot of opportunities these days to take his camera out in a non-work setting.
They exchanged details. Peter, the sweet fool, recited his phone number aloud for Tim, and Jason caught Dick, Steph and Cass not-so-surreptitiously adding his number to their contacts. He'd have to message them later about not overwhelming Peter with the crazy so early on.
Afterwards, the table fell into pockets of conversation and Peter was mercifully left alone. For the best: Jason was pretty sure Peter was close to getting overwhelmed by the attention. He doubted Peter would appreciate any legitimate vulnerabilities being noticed by his siblings. With the pressure of seven pairs of eyes off him, Peter seemed content with trying to look like he wasn't eating enough for three people, using subtle misdirects and moments when their attention were on someone else to add more to his plate.
It would have gone entirely unnoticed, were they not at a table full of bats. It definitely was noticed, but Jason tried not to worry. It wasn't the end of the world if they realised Peter was a meta. Not like every single one of them didn't have meta friends, and then of course there was Duke and whatever it was he could do with light these days. Jason really needed to do another training sim with him. See how his abilities had evolved since he'd been here last.
Fortunately for Peter, most of the people at the table had tact and chose to do the reasonable thing and file the observation away for future stalking recon.
Unfortunately for Peter, most did not mean all. And unfortunately for Peter, the most tactless of them all had also noticed and was staring with narrowed green eyes. Looked like the testing might be imminent with that one. Jason shot them a warning glare but was ignored.
If Peter noticed (and Jason suspected he did), he didn't televise it. He was talking to Duke again about Batburger, of all things.
"You're saying Batman doesn't get any royalties?"
"Not that we know of."
"But! They're profiting off his image!"
"Well, it's not like he's gonna claim that, is he?" Duke scoffed. "What's he gonna do? Turn up and go 'hey, that's me you've slapped on a box of chicken nuggets, gimme my five percent'?"
"… Yes?"
"Sure, and I'm sure they'll do that for him and the twenty other nutcases dressed in a batsuit who tried it before him."
"Hmm." Peter looked like he was thinking about trying that for himself. Now that was a sight Jason would pay to see.
"Apparently they donate it," Tim piped up, having slotted himself into the conversation sometime around the mention of chicken nuggets, because he was actually a ten year old child with business acumen. "The percentage that would have gone to the bats in royalties go back into Gotham. Foodbanks and the like."
"Huh," Peter sat back in his chair, apparently mollified. "That's… good, actually. This city needs all the help it can get."
Jason knew it was coming. He knew it, and yet he was still unprepared for the balled-up Yorkshire pudding that whipped through the air straight for Peter's head.
No time to think. Jason was fast, but Peter was faster. His hand shot up and the pudding slapped right into his palm like a baseball.
There was a moment of surprised silence. Then:
"Damian?!" Dick yelped in alarm.
"Master Damian!"
"What the shit?" Steph cried.
Peter barely blinked. He was frozen, hand still up in the air, long fingers curled around the pudding.
He'd not even been looking when he caught it.
Jason saw the realisation flicker across Peter's face. Anger blossomed in his throat.
"What the fuck," he growled, turning on Damian to take the heat off Peter. Stupid. He should've known Damian wouldn't wait for privacy to test his suspicions.
"I apologise," Damian said without an ounce of sincerity. "I thought Parker still looked hungry."
Peter flinched and his cheeks pinked immediately. He set down the pudding, laughing nervously. All his previous ease had disappeared and Jason's scowl deepened further as Peter pushed his plate away.
"Not cool, man," Duke scolded in Peter's defence. "Who throws shit at guests!"
Damian didn't bother responding. He stared at Peter with undisguised suspicion.
"Sorry." Jason hated how softly Peter spoke. How wild-eyed he'd become, as if he'd revealed too much. "I—"
He saw the exact moment Peter's flight response kicked in. "Pete—"
He was drowned out by the scrape of Peter's chair. Then he was up and away on stiff marionette legs before anyone else could react. "Thank-you for the meal," Peter bit out to a frowning Alfred as he fled the room.
Silence reigned. Not even Peter's footsteps could be heard on the hardwood floors: he moved like a ghost when he wanted to.
Jason broke the quiet with the screech of his own chair, meal forgotten.
"I hope you're fucking happy," he hissed at Damian and contemplated hurling the offending pudding back. But it wouldn't be satisfying. Damian was still just a child. Crap. And there he'd been, hoping Peter and Damian had bonded over the dogs. Trust Damian to find the worst possible way to test Peter. "He's got enough issues without you bringing up his eating!"
Damian sucked his teeth and looked away. "He's suspicious. And possibly a—"
"He's traumatised, you little shit!"
"Jay!"
"Oh, piss off, Dick! You want me to play nice? You'd better expect the rest to do the same!" He flicked his eyes over the rest of the table, furious. "You breathe a word of this to him and I never come here again."
"Jason," Dick tried again, standing himself.
"Fuck you," he snarled, then turned back on Damian. "Even if he was a meta, he wouldn't deserve to be outed like that. I'd've thought you'd know better, Robin."
Damian flushed and looked away and Jason had officially had enough.
He met Alfred's eyes as he stalked out of the room.
"Shall I box up your dessert?" Alfred asked, resigned and disappointed. Jason hated to see it, but there was no way they were staying. He'd be lucky if Peter even stuck around for Jason.
"Sure."
He hurried after Peter, moving mostly on instinct. It was a solid guess that Peter would've gone for Dog.
Relief gusted out of him when he burst through the conservatory doors to find Peter sat on the edge of the raised patio, Dog snuffling at him anxiously. His face had that awful blank expression Jason saw too often on him.
What did those dark eyes see? Because he certainly wasn't looking at the hydrangeas.
Sitting down beside Peter only dragged him back a fraction. Still he stared at the dusky garden. Jason waited him out. Wherever Peter went, he never left for long. In the meantime, he used the quiet to reign back his anger. The last thing either of them needed was Jason taking that out on Peter.
Eventually, Peter shuddered and wrapped his arms around Dog, burying his face in her muscular neck.
"You back?"
"… Yeah."
Jason hummed, lips tight with unhappiness, but didn't speak further. Sometimes silence was the best way to draw someone out. Other times, it just gave people the opportunity to feel… quiet. He wasn't sure which'd be the effect on Peter until his soft voice cut through the darkening peace.
"I ruined it, didn't I?"
"Nah." Jason let the anger gust out of him and leaned back on his hands. "That'd be Damian's fault, actually. I swear he knows better than to treat the table like a middle school cafeteria, and yet…"
Peter didn't quite laugh, but Jason marked the puff of air from his nose as a success. He nudged Peter with his leg, and the younger man leaned into the touch.
"I revealed too much."
"You were fine. Good reflexes are something anyone could have."
Peter pulled his head from Dog's neck to glare, like he knew Jason was lying. He turned to humour to deflect.
"Better you do it than me. If it wasn't — that — trust me when I say it would've been me storming off for something else. And there'da been a fair bit more screaming and a hell of a lot more bloodshed. M'just sorry you had to bear the brunt."
"I ate too much."
"There was nothin' wrong with how you were eating," Jason said flatly. The last thing Peter needed was some new hang up about his eating habits. Not when they'd been working so hard to build up his weight. Peter had confessed a week ago to being unable to meet the needs of his metabolism for months and it explained the hunger ingrained in his mouth and the hollow cheeks.
Peter didn't respond. Jason hunted for something else to drag him out of his funk.
"How'd you find 'em?"
Peter snuck him a gimlet stare. "They were… fine."
"Except for the obvious?"
"Except the obvious."
"We can say no to the zoo. Or go another time, if you wanted."
"I think that'll depend on Damian." Peter was frowning as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I thought… thought we were getting along."
The what did I do? went unspoken, but not unheard.
"You were. The kid… doesn't trust easily." Not the only one. "He sees things that're new as a threat. That ain't on you."
"But—"
"You don't gotta prove yourself, Pete. Just… be yourself." It's done enough to prove yourself to me.
"Be myself," Peter echoed, morose. "I don't even know what that means anymore."
"… Pete?"
But Peter didn't repeat himself. Jason filed the comment away and let the moment slide. They sat in shared silence as daylight dwindled into the sickly, light-polluted dark that even Bristol couldn't escape. The chilled air drew them closer, sides pressed together to ward off the fall.
Eventually, the doors to the conservatory reopened and tentative footsteps approached. Jason twisted to see, somewhat to his surprise, Steph and Damian join them. Their entrance turned back on the automated outdoor lighting, casting half their faces in gold. Steph's expression was calm but determined, a stark contrast to Damian's mulish pout. He was kept firmly in place with a hand gripped tight to his shoulder.
"Hey, Peter," Steph said, and Peter stood to face them properly. Jason quietly ordered Dog to sit and held back while the others approached. "I just wanted to say, sorry. I wasn't trying to imply that you didn't know what you were doing… but it sounded like you've been through a lot and needed someone in your court."
"I do have someone in my court," Peter shot back.
Jason kept his expression carefully neutral. Peter hadn't a lick of hesitation. Was Jason meant to feel relieved? Pleased that Peter saw him as on his side? Or was guilt the better choice? For all the things Jason was keeping from him? Or both at once?
"I appreciate the concern," Peter continued, unaware of Jason's turmoil. "I didn't like that you implied Jason would take advantage… doesn't seem to me like you know him very well."
"Yeah," Steph huffed, rueful. She glanced away from Peter to meet Jason's eye. "Sorry, Todd. I guess I should know better by now."
Jason shrugged. "It's fine. I get it." He did. Not like Jason had the best reputation or history, after all.
"So… are we cool?"
Peter looked over his shoulder at Jason for a moment, then turned back to Steph. "We're cool."
The stiffness in Steph's shoulders disappeared. "Fuck. Thank God. Didn't really wanna make an enemy of you."
"Oh, come on." Peter smirked. "It's not like I'm scary."
"Mm." Steph was unconvinced. "Sometimes it's the innocent ones that are the most dangerous." Knowing Peter like he did, Steph was not wrong. For various reasons. "And so you're aware, I will be capitalising on that face of yours. I bet you could get away with some epic pranks."
Funnily enough, so did Jason…
"Noted," Peter drawled, infinitely amused.
Steph turned serious, and she nudged Damian forward. The teen moved reluctantly, then squared his shoulders and glared up at Peter. "I… apologise. That was. Uncouth of me."
Peter studied Damian carefully. But although his speech was halting, they could all hear the contrition in his voice, sparse though it was. Jason wondered if it'd been Dick or Alfred who'd given him a dressing down. Or Duke, maybe. The two of them apparently got on well.
"… Thank-you," Peter said eventually. Like Steph, some of the strain in Damian's posture was released. "Just… next time, maybe hand the food to me, 'kay?"
Damian blinked. "Yes…" he said slowly. His eyes darted to the dark gardens, to Jason and Dog, then back to Peter. "Would you… still wish to go to the zoo?"
"Oh," Peter laughed. "Yeah… Yeah, I would."
"Very well." And like that, the childish uncertainty was gone. "I shall send you the details."
"Okay. Should I give you my—"
"No need," Damian interrupted. "I already have your contact details."
"Uhm—?"
"And for the record, you would do well to remember not to share them so carelessly in the future. No doubt Drake has already sent you several imbecilic images."
Peter glanced at his phone and sure enough, even Jason could see that several messages had popped up while outside. "Huh." Peter laughed and put his phone away. "Should I be concerned?"
"About Tim?" Steph smirked. "Yes."
"As if you are any better, Brown! I am sick of the endless attempts to make me listen to that imbecileAstley[2]!"
"Aww, I'm just trying to share good music with you."
Knowing Steph, that was 100% a lie.
Peter nudged Jason while the two bickered. He nodded.
"We're gonna go," Jason announced, effectively breaking up the argument.
Steph pouted. "What about dessert?"
As if summoned (or more likely, watching from inside), Alfred materialised through the conservatory doors. He carried four tupperware containers that Jason was sure contained an unholy amount of sweet treats and leftovers from dinner packed carefully inside.
"Are you certain you cannot be tempted to stay?" Alfred asked even as he handed over the containers. There had to be a good four pounds worth of food in his hands.
Jason shook his head. "It's been a long day. We gotta get home. Thanks for the meal, Alfie."
"It was amazing," Peter added, smiling shyly. "Really, thank-you."
Alfred's smile was warm and left Peter shifting uncertainly on his feet. Jason placed what he hoped was a grounding hand on his shoulder.
"Any time, my dear boy," Alfred said kindly, and Jason knew he'd done the right thing introducing Peter, even if parts of the day had gone awry. "In fact, I insist you come back again. Next Sunday."
"Oooh! Or we could come back after the zoo!" Steph gushed. Alfred looked like he was already planning a menu.
"We'll see," Jason hedged, unwilling to commit to anything while he didn't know when Bruce would return. Sooner or later he'd need to speak to the man, but he'd rather that happened before Bruce met Peter. And a family dinner was the absolute worst time to do so.
"Very well," Alfred said, nodding as if Jason had said yes. "I shall pencil you both in."
Jason sighed heavily but attempted to stand firm. "I'll let you know."
Fighting Alfred's politeness was a losing battle, but Jason at least had to try putting up some kind of resistance.
By the way the old man's eyes gleamed, it seemed he already knew he'd won.
— + —
"Hey, Jason?"
"Mm?"
"Is that — is that a fucking cow?"
— + —
Click [HERE] for text only
— + —
"So… Peter."
Red Hood and Nightwing sat on the edge of a roof, sharing cold jokerised fries while they looked out at Crime Alley, appreciating the quiet night (for Gotham). Things had been quiet for a few weeks now, actually. A fortunate thing while Bruce was off with the Justice League. Jason hated it when the rogues popped out their ugly heads while the Bat wasn't swinging around. Shit always hit the fan in the most spectacularly awful of ways.
He'd spent the night at the Iceberg, putting the fear of God into a few upstarts the Su sisters warned him had been sniffing around the casino, thinking it easy prey. In between hanging the idiots by the ankles, Jason had been mulling over ways to smuggle a Geiger counter into the apartment without Peter knowing (thank-you Duke for that new anxiety). All in all, an easy night. It was nearing three now and Gotham had hunkered down into her usual restless slumber.
Dick turned up all of five minutes ago. Jason was surprised he'd waited a day, instead of hunting him down last night after the disastrous family dinner. He'd at least come with food, courtesy of the 24hour BatBurger down in Burnley[4].
Of course, everything had gone cold by the time he found Jason, but that was the usual way of things. Patrolling vigilantes rarely ate their meals hot. Jason was happy enough to have something to eat before he called it in and headed home. The night was a hell of a lot colder than the day might have suggested and he was already starting to plan the changes he'd make to his uniform to suit the upcoming Gotham winter.
He definitely wasn't thinking about Peter's smartass comment about branding.
Fifth-grader origami heart my ass.
Jason shoved a handful of fries in his mouth and tried to focus on the lime-tang rather than the mealy potatoes or the doubts Peter's savage read had sprouted.
"Jay?"
"Mmph." He swallowed and slapped away Dick's hand that attempted to steal a fry straight out of Jason's. "What about him?"
"He's nice. I like him."
"Yeah. He's something else."
"You two fit well together."
Jason's lips twitched. He let himself smile, even if Dick was wrong. They didn't fit together, because there was nothing to fit. But there was no denying that he and Peter got along well. It was too soon to say they were friends, but they weren't not friends, either.
(He'd hope so, considering he'd offered Peter his apartment to stay in until they found a way to send him back. If that was possible…. Speaking of, it was about time he sent another massage to Constantine.)
Dick misinterpreted Jason's silence. "You're not convinced?"
"That's… not it," Jason murmured, hesitant.
"Tell me about it?"
"It's just… he worries me." Jason grimaced even as he spoke. He didn't mean to tell the truth, but there was something about Dick that just made you want to spill all. Like he could give you answers to questions you didn't even know to ask.
Funny. Even Jason Todd wasn't immune to the big brotherly charms of Dick Grayson.
"Why?"
Jason bit back a sigh. "Peter, he's… seen shit. Been through things he won't tell me about. There's something… untouchable — unreachable — about him. Like he's on one wall and I'm on another."
"I heard from Robin that he wasn't doing great a few nights back."
"Nightmare," Jason said grimly. "He didn't react well when he woke up."
"Therapy?"
He rolled his head to give Dick a gimlet stare. "Bit hypocritical to recommend that, don't ya think?"
Dick managed to keep a straight face for all of three seconds before it creased into a self-deprecating grin. "Okay. Point taken. But he is a civvie… right? It'd be easier for him."
Jason grunted rather than answer the probing question. Dick tilted his head, suspicions all but confirmed.
"Jay—"
"I dunno anything for sure," Jason lied. "But there's a reason he was targeted, don't ya think?"
"It does make sense," Dick hedged. Jason knew he was thinking about that uncanny catch Peter made. "… Is he a threat?"
Jason snorted. "The fuck do you think?"
"… Yeah. Fair enough. But you know I gotta ask."
"Don't… don't go advertising it." It was a gamble, confirming Peter's meta status to Dick. Just as it had been with Babs. But he seemed to like Peter, and Dick was a bleeding heart for an underdog.
"Is that the right way to go about this? B might know—"
"The fuck he does! I'm not — I can't have B chasing him out just 'cause of something he can't change about himself."
"You know B wouldn't do that."
Jason let his silence speak for him. Dick sighed heavily. He took an enormous bite of his burger and Jason let him mull it over like he didn't already know how Dick would respond.
He was right.
"Is he a mask?"
"What do you think?"
"I think I've been surprised by a lot less."
Jason chose to scarf down half his KGBLT rather than answer, and Dick filled the silence for him.
"I don't like lying..."
He forced down the mouthful of burnt bacon and soggy tomato. "I ain't asking you to. Just don't say anything. The same goes for the rest of you. Keep it to yourself, unless he asks. Which he won't."
Even Jason knew that was a pipe dream at best. Peter would inevitably draw Bruce's attention due to his proximity to Jason. Maybe, it'd be a passing interest. More than likely not, even if Jason could trust Babs and Dick to keep mum unless Peter really did become a problem. Not that Jason was especially concerned about that. The only way Peter could be a problem was if his presence here posed an existential-level threat. In which case, they'd have bigger issues than Bruce to worry about.
And if Bruce did learn Peter was a meta (of the non-world threatening variety), Jason was planning to negotiate an agreement like he had with the Outlaws, where Peter fell under his purview. In which case, Bruce wouldn't be in much of a position to do anything else but whine and scowl. Peter's willingness to stick around was tenuous at best… an overly nosy and invasive Bat might send him really running for the hills…
"Jay…" Dick's tone, slow and cautious, had him looking up.
"Mm?"
"… When you said you 'took care of things'…"
Jason knew his glare was somewhat mitigated by his domino mask, but he gave one all the same. "You don't want me to answer that."
"Yeah… Maybe not…"
Quiet between them. They finished off their cold fast food.
"Tell me he at least deserved it."
"Dick."
"Alright, alright." Dick huffed and threw his head back to stare up at the unusually clear sky. The only star visible was Sirius. "But really, Jay. How do you feel about him? There's dangers, shacking up with a civvie… possible meta or not."
"Trust me, I know," he growled with more anger than Dick deserved, but he couldn't help but think of Isabel[5] and the shit she'd been pulled into by association with Jason. He'd made that mistake once and he wouldn't do it again. Never mind that that was exactly what the bats and other capes would think he was doing with Peter. Or that he suspected Peter was anything but a civvie. But that wasn't his secret to share.
"Will things be okay? Will he be okay?"
"I don't know," he confessed, thinking of Cass' warning on Sunday. "Peter… he's… someone used to running."
Dick peered at him in the dark. "And you don't think he's done yet?"
"No." Jason laughed mirthlessly. "Not even close. He's my—"
Flight risk princess. He kept the ironic endearment to himself. It'd only be misinterpreted.
Dick remained quiet. Expectant.
He sighed. "Sometimes… I'll look at him and he just seems… lost. Like he doesn't know how he got here." 'Cause he fucking doesn't. "Or I come home, and I wonder if he'll still be there, or if he's decided today's the day he runs again."
"Well… there's an easy way to stop him from running, right?"
"Oh yeah?"
"Just… make it so he won't leave?"
"Oh yeah, great advice, thanks dumbass. What shall I do. Tie him to a fucking chair?"
"I mean…"
"Maybe that works for you, Dickwing, but I like my partners free range."
Dick shoved him and the remainders of Jason's sandwich fell off the roof. He cursed but held back from punching Dick in retaliation.
"You know what I mean," Dick huffed. "It sounds like Peter's got trust issues — no surprises there. You have to show him you're someone he can afford to place his trust in."
"You think I don't know that?"
"No, I think you do," Dick spoke carefully. Annoyance flickered through Jason to see the man try to steer clear of his pressure points. "But it's not a one-off thing, you know? He's obviously good at masking his feelings, but Peter's probably still in survival mode. You're going to have to be there. Through thick and thin—"
"Christ, we're living together, not married."
"In our circles that's the next best thing." Dick frowned at him. "I just mean… he needs a safe space. And for whatever weird and uncomfy reason, you've somehow become that."
"Gee willickers, Batman, that's a ringing endorsement."
"Piss off." Dick shoved him again and simultaneously attempted to steal more of his fries. Jason wrenched them out of the fiend's reach. "Do you know how traumatised I was, Jay? Steph's right, you two are gross."
"And you're a fucking infant."
"See if I bring you food again, you ungrateful wretch!"
Jason laughed at Dick's theatrics. He couldn't help it. They spent the rest of their semi-shared meal bickering, and when Jason finally headed back to the safehouse to wash the hairwax from his hair and the Gotham grime from his skin, he felt lighter and surer than before.
[1] The All-Blades are magical swords Jason can only summon in the presence of 'true evil'. He got them while training with the All-Caste (RHATO n52). They're powered by his soul and blood.
[2] IYKYK 😏
[3 - CLICK HERE TO RETURN] Messages to SIGnature moves 10:14PM
9:58PM Red Hoodlum: Hey, what did your elf eyes see today?
10:01PM SIGnature moves: stop. You kno I hate it when you use memes. Its wrong. On so many levels
10:02PM Red Hoodlum: fuck you I'm only 5 years older
10:03PM SIGnature moves: sure in body
10:03PM SIGnature moves: but in soul? You're a boomer
10:05PM Red Hoodlum: [middle finger emoji] what did you see?
10:06PM SIGnature moves: what's in it for me
10:08PM Red Hoodlum: me not kicking my foot up your ass
10:09PM SIGnature moves: boring. Predictable. Try harder.
10:12PM Red Hoodlum: Fine. I'll show you how to mod your bike without B knowing
10:13PM SIGnature moves: deal.
10:13PM SIGnature moves: Did you know P is mildly radioactive?
Red Hoodlum is calling
[4] Bat Burger and jokerised fries are canon and I think that's fucking hilarious. No one knows what the seasoning actually is, but in my heart of hearts I want it to be something like Tajin
Behold:
[5] Isabel, FYI, is the start of my demisexual!Jason HC. She was an air hostess in RHATO 1 (n52) openly flirting with Jason, who Jason is then surprised to get a phone number from even though he was flirting back. After a 'boring' date in RHATO 2 (her words!), she's dragged into an interstellar war for the freedom of Tamaran and later temporarily fridged by the Joker to frame Jason and drag him into the 'Death of the Family' arc. Later she reappears in RHO (rebirth), is possessed by Essence (another of Jason's exes) and Jason gives her Dog… I'm ignoring this for obvious reasons