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“This is the fourth time this week,” Bruce scolds lightly as he wraps the raw scars on Jason’s arm. His hands work meticulously to fasten a clean bandage and stop any bleeding before it starts. Despite the way the wounds looked, Jason seemed to be in little to no pain. Bruce eyed the bleeding scar on Jason’s forehead, very briefly. In those brief seconds he could tell it would need stitches. "I don’t mind you coming to see me but I don’t always want to patch you up on my lunch break. Sometimes you should just want to have lunch with your ‘old man’.”
He had rarely seen Jason over the last three months, until the first couple of injuries started. They started around the same time Jason adopted his project. A rundown, beat up, cruiser motorcycle. It was the motorcycle, if Bruce had to guess. The parental instinct in him, knew he shouldn’t have let Jason take that bike as a project.
Jason shakes his head softly, a smile curving his lips up.” Lunch sounds like a push too much. I bet it’s those cucumber sandwiches, so I might just be saving you.”
“Try a bag of pretzels and coffee out of the cafeteria.” Bruce suggested before turning his focus back to the matter at hand. “You need to get a car.”
Jason huffs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m serious-”
“The brakes are messed up on my bike, that’s all. Between studying and trying to make rehearsals, I can’t find the time to fix it.”
Bruce glances up. He places the gauze on the metal tray before sorting through other tools to tackle the gash on his forehead. "I'm home at night. You can bring it by or I can drive to the university. How’s both of those things going for you? You’re playing Macbeth, right?”
“Yeah, but you work all day. I’m not gonna bother you.” Jason says and Bruce can’t help the frown that pulls at his features. "School's fine. I have a killer lit assignment. Yeah, Macbeth, I’m still amazed I got it.” Jason glances at the tools that Bruce is sorting through before letting the next couple of words come from his mouth. ”Opening night is next weekend. I’d ask you to come but-”
The love for literature and Shakespeare blossomed from Alfred. Not long after Jason found his home in Wayne Manor, he wandered into the library. Reading became an escape. And plays only brought that escapism to life. Jason had called and told Bruce all about the play, how excited he was. He told Bruce it was a whim, he didn’t think he’d get a single role and managed to come out with the lead role. Bruce was beyond proud, he gushed about it to all the nurses on his floor. As he did with all his kids.
“I’ll be there.” Bruce said firmly and without hesitation.
When Jason and Dick were growing up, it was hard for Bruce to juggle fatherhood and a career that almost rarely let him off. Bruce wasn’t the best as a parent but he tried. Sometimes, he would come in late to baseball games, still wearing his scrubs, or show up ten minutes before the middle school graduation ceremonies would end. Either way, he always tried to be there. It was all he could do and all he could hope was that it made a difference.
“Really?”
“Of course. I’ll bring Dick and Alfred too. Now lean back, you need stitches.”
The stitches didn’t take as long as Bruce had projected. Before long the duo was walking down the crowded hall to the main exit where Jason had left his bike. No amount of deep breaths or stern talks about driving safe were going to make Bruce comfortable with Jason riding that thing back to school. But Jason was already situating himself on it, holding his red helmet in his lap. For the first time, since Jason was a small boy, Bruce really looked at him.
The red hair was gone. It was black now, a small white streak in the front. Maybe from a Frat, Bruce didn’t know, asking him didn’t seem like a conversation he wanted to hear. Even Bruce had his wild days in college.
Jason revved his bike. Bruce tried a smile but the words fell from his lips. ”Be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, Sure. Love ya, old man.”
Jason is long out of the parking lot before Bruce can say anything back. Watching him get smaller in the distance takes him back to the first time he met Jason in this hospital and decided he’d do all he can for the boy.
" Excuse me-" Bruce knocked on the door. He expected to find an older man or woman waiting with the patient who had overdosed, short of four hours ago. Despite doing all he could, he couldn’t save her. Sometimes, it was like that. The effects of drugs had negative impacts on the human body when taken in such amounts. Whether this woman had done it with intent was none of Bruce’s business, his only goal was to help her. Even though he knew the outcome, it still bothered him deep in his core.
Instead he found a young boy, roughly eight or nine, sitting on the edge of the bed, a loose red hoodie clinging to his small frame. His eyes didn't meet Bruce's, they met the wall across from where he sat. It made breaking the bad news harder. Telling a kid his parent was dying, wasn’t something he wanted to do. Bruce entered the room, the rest of the way. He pulled over his stool and sat before Jason. He tilted his head to try and make eye contact.
It reminded him of Dick, the acrobat he had adopted a few years earlier. How helpless both boys had looked when their worlds came crashing down. It wasn’t fair for a child to experience such pain. Bruce knew himself.
"Is there any chance you can call your father? I need-"
"He ain't coming." The boy's voice was so low, so defeated.
"Why is that?"
"He's dead, has been for awhile." He looked past Bruce to find his mother for just a split second. "What’s wrong with her?"
Bruce could feel his heart drop. He could feel the urge to pull this boy into a hug because yes, the world was cruel and no it wasn’t fair. Because Bruce was still young and knew the pain of being all alone. But he didn’t. He sat up straight, examining the clipboard in his hand. There was no sugarcoating this. “Your mother overdosed. Even though she got here and we did all we could, the effects were irreversible. There’s a chance she won’t make it through the night. I’m so sorry.”
Jason didn’t come out and cry, there was no sob, no violent shake of his shoulders. Just a single tear rolling down his cheek. Bruce figured it was because he had experienced this before with his father. His voice trembled. "I got nowhere else to go.”
He looked up at Bruce, his eyes burning with anger.” I ain’t going to a boy’s home!” He jumped to his feet, pushed Bruce aside, his small hands diving hard into Bruce’s ribs pushing the air out of him.
Bruce coughed before getting up and chasing after the kid. There was a slim chance his rib was cracked or bruised but Bruce didn’t have time to complain. He was only thinking about this boy running out into Gotham’s streets and something happening to him. Bruce couldn’t let that happen. The manor had enough room for him, if he wanted it.
He finally caught up to the boy when he found him sitting in the stairwell. Bruce sat down next to him. "Quite an arm you got on yourself.”
There was no response from the boy. He had his knees to his chest and his head down.
“As a doctor, it’s my responsibility to take care of you, to make sure you have somewhere to stay. I’m supposed to call a social worker if you don’t have any family or legal guardian. But-” Bruce had to think about the words that came out of his mouth. Was he really doing this? Was he really about to take in a second kid? In a heartbeat, he decided he was. “You are more than welcome to stay with me, my son Dick, and our butler Alfred. Alfred’s more of a family friend though.”
Jason lifted his head and eyed him like he was lying.
“Honest truth. I was a little younger than you when I lost my parents. I understand what you’re going through. And I was lucky enough to have someone there for me, so I’ll be there for you. If you want.”
“You got no reason to take me in, you don’t even know me.”
“Well when you say it like that-”Bruce offered his hand and smiled.” I’m Bruce. What’s your name?”
“Jason. My name’s Jason.”
“Let me finish out my shift and we can grab a bite to eat. Then if you’d like, we can spend the rest of the night with your mother.”
“Alright, Bruce.”
Bruce wouldn’t forget that day. Nor the greasy food that they grabbed before heading back to the hospital. It wasn’t an easy day, the days that followed weren’t either. But Jason was well, he was taken care of, and he didn’t want for much. Bruce was content with that, with the job he had done as a parent.
He slid his hands into the pockets of his lab coat and headed back for the hospital, a smile on his face.