Archive of Our Own ^beta

Dick Grayson

On a night like this, Dick Grayson would have normally been out for patrol. Flying above the rooftops, adrenaline singing in his veins. On a night like this, Dick wouldn’t have minded speeding down the highway on his motorcycle, cutting around close corners and generally trying to give his dad a heart attack. On a night like this, Dick Grayson was driving as carefully as he could in his car. 

“How are you doing back there, Jay?” Upon hearing no response, he cast a glance to the backseat where his brother sat, slumped against the window. “Jay?” 

The man blinked as if waking up. “‘M fine.”

“No, you aren’t.” 

Jason muttered a curse under his breath. “Look. I’m a guy with a stranger’s name , being driven by a stranger in a stranger’s car to a stranger’s house . Leave me alone.” 

There was something Dick forgot to mention. His brother had amnesia. 

To be fair, it was something Dick was still trying to wrap his head around, himself. The phone call from the Outlaws’ HQ had come only an hour earlier. Roy had rambled on about a mission gone sour, how Jason had gotten hit with the brunt of something and had come to not even knowing his own name. 

“Just– just come pick him up. You’re his family , man. He should… he should be with his family.” 

So here he was, driving his amnesiac brother to the Manor, which he didn’t even remember. Of course Alfred would have just left for his vacation when this happened. Alfred always knew what to do. Maybe things would be easier if he tried to make conversation. “Hey Jay,” he said, trying for a light tone, “Guess how many siblings we have.” 

Jason huffed. “I dunno, Dick .” Surly as ever. Good to see not much had changed. 

“Well, there’s six of us, including you and me. Five of us boys and one girl.” Dick kept his gaze on the road, keeping his mind carefully blank. He really didn’t want to think about the fact that he was having to introduce his own family to his brother. 

“Wow. I’m sure mom and dad must have loved that.” 

Dick hesitated. “Er, yeah. Actually, Bruce adopted most of us. And he never married so,” he clicked his tongue. “Single dad.” 

That seemed to throw Jason for a few seconds. “A regular group home,” he said finally. 

“Mmhmm. Wanna know how you met Bruce?” Dick asked, trying an ounce too hard to keep his tone cheerful. There was a queasy feeling in his stomach, growing by the second. Ignore it. 

“How?” 

“He caught you stealing the tires off his car.” 

Another pause. “No way. No way that happened.” 

“Yes way.” Dick flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “You tried attacking him with a tire iron after. He took you out for burgers.” 

Jason snorted. “I’m not that gullible, Dick. That did not happen.” 

“Did too.” Dick turned onto the road leading into Bristol. The difference between here and the road they’d been on mere minutes earlier was stark. The buildings grew farther apart and there were even suburbs not far off. 

“Hey, Dick? Where’re we going? We’re like in the middle of nowhere.”

Dick didn’t know why it was that question that hit him so hard. Jason had probably driven down this road a million times… And now… He really didn’t remember. “We’re… we’re going to Bruce’s house. He kinda lives… in the middle of nowhere, I guess.” 

“Oh.”  

Jason didn’t talk much for the rest of the car ride and Dick had no idea what to say– so it remained silent. 

Before Dick had left to pick Jason up, he’d talked with Bruce. There were so many abnormal things about their lives that Dick thought it was probably best to tell Jason about everything in parts. And, by extension, it would probably by better to reintroduce Jason to the rest of the family in parts. The last thing they wanted was for Jason to get overwhelmed. 

Which was why it was only Bruce and Tim waiting to receive them at the Manor. Jason kept his hands stuffed in his pockets as Dick ushered him into the living room. Dick felt for him. The Manor by itself was intimidating enough without the promised presence of… estranged family members. 

“Okay… so this is the family room,” Dick found himself narrating to Jason. Bruce and Tim watched, both sitting ramrod straight. “And over there is Bruce and there’s Tim in the chair beside him.” 

Jason stared.

Bruce finally stood. “Jason,” he said, making his way towards them. “It’s good to have you here.” He slung a casual arm over Jason’s shoulder and he stiffened. 

“Get off me,” Jason said quietly. The air stilled. “ I said, get off me you creep!” 

Bruce backed off abruptly, eyes wide. “Son–” 

“No, you don’t get to– you don’t– I don’t even know any of you! Just– just don’t .” 

“Jay-lad…” 

Tim stopped him, pulling Bruce back. “Just give him some space Bruce.” 

“Woah, hey, Jason.” Dick telegraphed his movements, trying to make it clear that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Jason.” Jason turned to him, breathing hard. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Why don’t I show you your room and you can freshen up and get some sleep, okay?” 

Jason grunted, still not taking wary eyes off Bruce. And Bruce looked terrified . 

Dick sighed. “Tim, you and Bruce go downstairs. I’ll meet you in a few.” He motioned towards the hall. “Come on Jay.” This ordeal was clearly going to be exhausting.

Intermission

“Alright, I’m in. Mission has been a success so far.” A pause. “Hey, I’ll have you know that I did not break character even once, okay? They totally fell for it.” A laugh. “I’ll sneak into the Cave to send you the security footage. I could tell Bats to kill a man and he might actually do it.” Another laugh. “Tell me I’m wrong. Exactly. When I’m done with them, I’ll have all t he Bats wrapped around my finger.” The voice sighed. “Revenge,” they said, “is oh so sweet.” 

Duke Thomas

Duke was beginning to think that this damn family couldn’t go a week without some sort of drama. And was he right? Yes. 

Normally, breakfast with practically the whole family without Alfred to rein everyone in would be chaos. A pensive air hung around the table instead this morning. The Outlaws had called the Cave last night saying that Jason had somehow lost practically all of his memory. And according to Tim, when Dick had brought him home, he was… volatile, to say the least. 

“Just, please be on your best behaviour, alright?” Dick said. “To Jason, he’s in a stranger’s house with a bunch of other strangers who know a lot about him. He’s probably confused and really stressed out. So please–” he waved a hand over the table. “Just try not to stress him out even more, okay?” 

Then Dick left to actually go bring Jason down and Duke was left to stare at Cass and Damian from across the table. “So… you think he’s really gonna be that bad? I mean, we’ve dealt with Jason on fear gas before. This cant be much worse, right?” 

Cass shrugged, a spoon in her mouth. 

“I for one, do not care,” Damian interjected, lifting his nose haughtily. “As long as Todd does not disrupt the order of things too much everything will be fine.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Duke said dubiously. “By the way, anyone seen Bruce or Tim?” 

“They’re in the Cave, Thomas. Where else do you expect?” 

Cass took the spoon out of her mouth, pointing it at Duke. “Workaholics.” 

Duke grinned. 

Footsteps sounded from the hall and their two eldest brothers emerged. It was weird. Jason looked exactly the same as he always did, hair a mess yet shirts always without a wrinkle. Duke could almost imagine him stopping to tease Damian, kiss Cass’s head and tell Duke about the latest book he was reading before he busied himself with making breakfast. It was usually pancakes that were, arguably, better than even Alfred’s.  That’s always how it went whenever Jason came. 

Instead, Jason hovered awkwardly by the table while Dick gave quick introductions. Then Jason sat at the table. Jason never sat at the table until everyone’s breakfast was made. Never. Duke remembered Jason once saying half-jokingly it was because he liked to make sure that his family was fed. Duke never was sure how serious that was. 

“Uh, Jason?” Duke called. “Want something to eat?” 

Jason looked up. “Hmm?” 

“We’ve got cereal,” Duke said, pointing at Cass’ bowl of Cocoa Puffs. Cass looked up from her food to give a smile, mouth still full of cereal. “I mean, usually you make us all breakfast but…” he trailed off. 

“We’ve got a bunch of different types though,” Dick added, walking towards the pantry to show Jason the assortment. He held up a box of Froot Loops. “You want some of these? They’re a family favourite. I’d advise you to get your hands on them while you can– Damian’s stabbed people over Froot Loops before.” 

“I have not!”

Jason wrinkled his nose. “I’ll pass.” 

Duke nudged him. “Wise choice. You abhor Froot Loops. Dick’s been trying to corrupt you into liking them since you were twelve. ”

“Really?” 

“Yep.” 

Jason ended up picking a box of Cheerios instead. “Any more spoons?” 

Dick brought over several from the drawer.

“And… uh, we’re out of milk too. Where is it?” 

Damian huffed. “You should know where it is, if you hadn’t been stupid and gotten yourself injured last night.”

“Hey the milk’s on the second shelf in the fridge–” Duke tried weakly. 

Nobody listened. 

“How am I supposed to know where it is?” 

“You are an incompetent fool! The old Todd wouldn’t have been like this.” 

Uh oh. 

Jason turned. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard what I said. Unless your accident turned you deaf as well,” Damian snapped. “Ever since you came here–” 

Dick tried fruitlessly to reprimand the youngest Wayne. “Damian–” 

“No, let him finish,” Jason insisted viciously. “Tell me what happened since I came?” 

Now faced with the question, Damian worked his jaw. Aaand thrust his half-finished bowl of cereal at Jason. 

Duke had to give it to the kid– he had pretty good aim. Jason glowered down at Damian, milk dripping down his face and pieces of cereal in his hair and shirt. Finally, he blew out a puff of air. “You’ll regret that, kid,” he said resignedly, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the hall. 

Dick looked down at Damian. “Damian, come on , kiddo. Give me a break.” 

“Todd was being imbecilic. Not that you would understand,” Damian huffed. 

Cass slurped the remaining milk out of her cereal bowl loudly. 

Just as Duke thought that Damian would storm off too, Jason re-appeared in the doorway (still covered in cereal) looking sheepish. “Hey uh… anyone know where the bathroom is?” 

Taking one sweeping look at the group, Duke volunteered to show him. “You’ll probably want to go to your room too. Y’know… to change your shirt.” Jason nodded. Once out of hearing range from the kitchen, Duke spoke again. “Bruce intentionally designed the floorplan for the Manor to be confusing. Something about security, I don’t know. Took me ages to figure out how to navigate this place though.” 

Jason snorted. “Bruce is weird.” 

“Amen.” They walked in silence for a few beats. “I could show you around? If you wanted.”

The older boy hummed. “I’ll think about it.” 

“You were the one that showed me around when I first came.” Duke laughed humourlessly. “I don’t know why you did, cause you hardly used to come to the Manor back then but…” he shrugged. “I guess it was just the right place at the right time.” 

They stopped at the bathroom and Duke let Jason go inside to clean himself up. Duke couldn’t help but think how bizarre this whole situation was. They had faced loads of villains and even stopped a doomsday or two, but this is what seemed to be affecting everyone. Typical. 

Upon re-emerging (with considerably less cereal in his hair), Jason had an odd look on his face. “I think I might take you up on your offer.” 

Duke paused. “Yeah, sure. You wanna start with the library? I could re-introduce you to your favourite books too.” 

“Okay.” 

“You know,” Duke said jokingly, “ I might be a little jealous of you. You get to read all your favourite stuff again for the first time.” 

Jason huffed, smiling a little. “Lucky me.” 

“Alright, so you like telling everyone that your favourite book is the Art of War but anyone with eyes knows it’s actually Jane Austen and…” 

Bruce Wayne

Had Jason seen Bruce right now, he would have laughed and said the old man was brooding. Bruce was not brooding. He was thinking . It wasn’t like he typically thought with a brilliant smile on his face anyway. He’d been sat with the Manor’s security feeds pulled up for ages now, trying to get some glimpse of Jason. True, he could just go upstairs and find the boy himself, but something told him that Jason probably wouldn’t appreciate his presence right now. 

There was something that Bruce had noticed. Jason no longer avoided the security cameras. It was likely he didn’t even remember they were there at all. But after years of deliberately just stepping out of the camera’s line of sight, seeing Jason directly in the feed, completely oblivious was… odd. 

Bruce’s mind flitted to the night before. At a casual touch Jason had completely freaked out and the way he’d looked at Bruce– with those weary, weary eyes made his heart break. The look that was so reminiscent of when Jason had first come to live with Bruce.  This boy, his boy had faced so much that no child should ever have to face and…  Bruce guessed that the weariness had become instinct. He’d hoped that after his time at the Manor and living in relative safety would lessen that but… 

When Bruce had looked into his son’s eyes that night, all he could feel was failure. His son didn’t feel completely and absolutely safe in his own home. 

His regrets were interrupted by the sound of someone entering the Cave. The visitor’s cadenced footsteps gave him away. “Tim.” 

“Hey Bruce.” the boy grabbed a chair and sat beside him in front of the computer. “I was talking to Roy… regarding Jason’s… situation. I wanted to see if we could get a better idea of what happened to him so that we could maybe work towards fixing it.” Tim sighed. “Roy said that out of all the tests they did back at the Outlaws HQ everything seemed normal until Jason woke up and didn’t remember anything. So they suspect it might be magical in nature.” 

“Does that mean it can be reversed?” 

“I dunno. Maybe. It gives us better chances at least.” Tim huffed, kicking his feet up onto the table. Bruce magnanimously chose to ignore that particular offence. “This just feels so.. off. Jason’s supposed to be– We were finally getting places with bringing Jason back into the family and now… “

“Maybe it’s our fresh start,” Bruce wondered aloud. Both for them and Jason. They had, Bruce had made so many mistakes when Jason first returned. He could amend that this time. And Jason– Jason was so driven by his mission as the Red Hood that Bruce feared he would neglect any and all hopes he’d ever had for his civilian life. Maybe finish school, get a degree. Jason had always been so excited about college when he was younger. With his mission no longer the first thing on his mind, maybe he could start thinking about if he wanted that life.  

Tim eyed him. “ Optimism . Who are you and what have you done with Bruce?” 

Bruce chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I can be op–” his face fell when his eyes landed upon the case in the corner. Jason’s suit. Their reminder of– 

Oh God. Jason probably had no idea that he’d… Finding out about that trauma all over again would be devastating. 

“Uh, Bruce? You okay?” 

“He doesn’t remember,” Bruce breathed. “That he… that he died .” 

Tim stilled. “Do you want to take the memorial down? In case he comes down?

Bruce stood, nodding. They could at least just put the case away for now. 

“Don’t worry Bruce. We’ll find a way to fix this. I promise.” 

Intermission

“Alright ladies and gents, progress update.” The speaker pressed the phone closer to their ear, as if it would make the phone call more secretive. “Yeah, I got away from them for a little bit. It’s apparently mandated naptime. Which is new.” They laughed after a heartbeat. “I did what you said too, about the security cams. Bats is probably losing his mind down there.” Another chuckle. “Riled the tyke up too. And no, I did not make him cry. I’m not evil. Before you–” the speaker quieted suddenly upon hearing approaching footsteps. “Shoot. Someone's coming. I’ve got to go.” 

Cassandra Cain

Cass had heard everyone’s opinions on the situation– that it was weird. There was a man that looked like their brother, spoke like their brother and yet didn’t remember them at all. Cass certainly didn’t dispute that opinion, but to her, the situation felt odd for an entirely different reason. 

If there was one thing that Cass was good at, it was people watching. So she decided to put that skill to good use. Her eyes scarcely left Jason all throughout breakfast, tracking his every movement, every hesitation between actions and words. Every minor expression that was smoothed over in less than a millisecond. The way he’d left the room after being served Damian’s cereal on his head only to have his return be almost an afterthought.

Most importantly, Cass had noticed that Jason often pressed his fingertips together when he was in deep concentration. Which brought up the question– why did he do that several times during the meal? 

A theory began to form in her head. But Cass needed more evidence. Bruce always did say evidence was the most valuable tool in detective work. So Cass would collect more evidence.

She followed Jason and Duke as they toured the Manor from a distance.  She noticed how he avoided creaky floorboards yet not the security cameras. She might’ve been able to chalk that up to muscle memory if not for the fact that it only included one of those things and not the other. 

Cass watched Jason step into his room with a quiet, “Hello room. Hello bed.” 

She froze. 

Cass remembered Damian’s story about the time he snuck into Jason’s safehouse only to find him greet almost every inanimate object on the way in. They used to tease him relentlessly about it, but the man took it all in stride and only continued the tradition with even more enthusiasm. There was no way he could remember that. 

Unless– 

It added up. All the signs were there– Cass cursed herself for not seeing it before. She moved forward to knock on Jason’s door when she heard him. Talking. Presumably on the phone because she could only hear half the conversation. That only seemed to confirm Cass’s theory even more. 

Finally, Cass rapped her knuckles on the wood of Jason’s door. The talking paused and tapered off. “Come in!” Jason called and Cass pushed the door open. He sat on his bed, supposedly reading a book. 

She stuck her chin out at him. “You’re a liar.” 

He started, before realizing himself and smoothed his features into a confused expression. “What are you talking about?” he asked, brows furrowed. 

“You’re lying.” She sighed at Jason’s continued ‘confusion’. It was so obvious how fake everything was, now that she knew. Cass tapped a finger on Jason’s nose. “Your memory. It isn’t gone, is it?” 

“Cass, do you even hear yourself? If I could remember anything, I think I’d want to get on with my life instead of being babied here.” Cass raised a dubious eyebrow. 

Cass could pinpoint the very moment when he’d dropped the facade. He’d huffed, throwing his hands into his lap as Cass very patiently waited for an explanation. “Well, it was fun while it lasted I guess,” he said, staring off at the ceiling. He looked up at her. “Yeah, the amnesia thing is totally fake. Roy came up with the idea though, so blame him– not me.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know! It was supposed to be a prank, you know. Revenge through emotional warfare ,” he said, wiggling his fingers at her. She cracked a smile, slapping them away. 

“Is this because of your demonstration at training?” Cass asked suspiciously. 

“Maybe.” 

“You will be in so much trouble.” 

Funnily, it was that that sent him scrambling. “Wait– no, Cass–  please. ” Jason pressed his hands together, pleading, “Cassie, please don’t tell them. I mean– they’ll find out eventually, so just let me have some fun with them first.” 

With a quick flick to Jason’s forehead, Cass spoke again. “And what will you do for me, little brother?” 

Jason hummed. “I’ll be your personal chef for a day after this whole thing is done.” 

“A week.” 

“Two days.” 

“Five.” 

“Four.” 

“Done.” 

They shook on it. “Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Cass.” 

Cass smiled sweetly. “Likewise.” 

Jason Todd [24 Hours Earlier] 

Jason stormed into the Outlaws compound, throwing his helmet off as he went. If nothing else, he came here just to get away from those morons.“I can’t believe them right now. They’re just so–  ughh .” 

From her place on the couch, Artemis raised an eyebrow, barely looking up from her book. 

“Who did what?” Roy asked, poring over the designs for a new flamethrower he was designing. 

“The Bats , those annoying idiots. They will not leave me alone,”Jason complained frustratedly. 

It had all started about two weeks ago, when Jason was supposed to demonstrate a kick to Duke and Damian during training. He’d also claimed, much to his later chagrin, that he knew how to do it very well . Upon actually demonstrating it, he’d fallen over... and become the butt end of everyone’s jokes ( sue him for wearing those slippery socks). And because they were the Bats , they began spiraling out of control. Jason couldn’t catch a break. They brought up the incident everywhere, patrols, at home, at a gala even. Then, once, they went to Batburger and Damian’s Red Hood action figure was… quite a bit deformed. “Look,” he’d said. “It seems that this action figure was made very well. ”  

That even got Bruce to laugh. 

“Until they can muster up the shame to at least apologize , they’ll  be as good as dead to me,” Jason fumed. 

Roy shelved his pen behind his ear where he’d likely forget about it later. “Jaybird, I think I’ve got an idea,” he said, an impish grin spreading on his face.

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Pray tell.” Roy’s ideas were rarely good ideas but Jason couldn’t find it in himself to care. The Bats were getting on his nerves, and he wanted them to know exactly how he felt.

“You– er, the Bats are really bad with emotions right? So why don’t we use that against them? Then you can get your apology and have a little fun while doing it.” 

“ I don’t know whether I should be insulted, but I am intrigued.” Jason pointed a finger at Roy. “Tell me more.” 

“So I was thinking we put you in a coma–” 

Artemis slammed her book closed. “Bast, that’s idiotic. Don’t do that .” 

“Then what do you suggest, O’ Great and Wise Artie?” 

The Amazon placed her book on the table and made her way over to the place where Jason and Roy were sitting. “We keep your concept, but we tone it down a lot more.” 

“What if we said that you got injured really badly?” 

“Wouldn’t work,” Artemis hummed, waving her hand dismissively. “The Bats would see straight through any fake injuries we could create.” 

“What if Jay faked amnesia?” 

Artemis snapped her fingers at him. “Now that is an idea.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Jason said, waving his hand in the air, “that’s good and all, but exactly do you plan to do that?” 

“Weren’t you the drama nerd? Figure it out.” 

“Shut up Roy,” Artemis chided, cuffing him on the back of the head. “For starters, the amnesia could be caused by magic, which is why nothing abnormal would show up on any tests that the Bats may choose to do.” 

Jason nodded. “Alfred’s also on vacation right now, which works out. I don’t think I could trick him and I’d kinda feel bad doing it anyways.” 

“You and your soft spots,” Artemis murmured fondly. “To make this seem believable, you’ll need to be seen out patrolling tonight. And it would be quite convenient if someone were to see you get struck by some mysterious beam of something .” 

Roy perked up. “I think I can help with that. You know, There was this stun gun I designed last week that could work with a bit of adjusting. Or I could use that other gizmo from–”

 Jason clamped a hand over Roy’s mouth before he could bore everyone to death with his rambling about his inventions. “So are you ready to become the mysterious villain who shoots the Red Hood tonight or not?” 

“You know I am.” 

“I think I’m going to ignore how eager you sound to shoot me.” 

Artemis snorted. “We’ve all had the urge.” At Jason’s exaggerated expression of betrayal, Artemis grinned wider. 

“Jason, stop looking so hurt and come here.”  Roy motioned for both him and Artemis to put their hands in a circle. “Daddy issues on three.” 

Artemis’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What?” 

Roy gestured in the air with his hand. “You know, daddy issues ?” 

“I never knew my father.” 

“You still qualify for the club Artie. Now get over here.”

______

Roy picked up the phone, preparing to call. 

“Roy, whatever you do, you can’t laugh, okay?” Jason told him. His side was still a bit sore from where Roy had shot him with his modified stun gun. But the first part of their plan had gone quite well if Jason said so himself. Roy had adjusted the gun so that it looked like it shot out a beam of light. If nobody saw the shooter, it was pretty convincing as a beam of magick. And luckily, there had been several people around to witness the Red Hood getting struck down by said beam. So yeah, Jason said it went well. 

Now all they had to do was call in the Bats to tell them the news. There was so much that could go wrong. 

Roy nodded. “You got it Jaybird. But are you guys sure you want me doing this instead of Artie?” 

“You’ll be fine,” Artemis assured. “Besides, I can always take over for you if you get too emotional .” 

“ Wow . Thanks so much Artie,” Roy drawled.

He dialled. “Hey Dick. I–” Roy paused, listening to the man on the other side. Oh how Jason wished he could hear it. “ No, this isn’t some stupid prank call I’ve been put up to.” At that, he flashed Jason and Artemis a grin, the latter rolling her eyes in response. “No… it’s… it’s about Jason.” 

Whatever Dick’s reaction was, it caused Roy to throw his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter. Jason only hoped that Dick would think it was Roy’s choked sobs instead. 

“No, he’s alive– and fine physically but… A few hours ago, Jason got hit with some kind of beam of light on patrol. The blast knocked him out. He looked fine– until he woke up. Dick, he–” Roy’s face was almost as red as Jason’s helmet from holding in his laughter. “Dick, he doesn’t remember anything.” 

Roy went silent for a long while. “I called you because– you’re his family, man,” he finally said in a hushed tone. “He should be with his family.” 

Wow. Roy was really laying it on thick now wasn’t he? Jason elbowed Artemis. “You gotta give him some credit, right? At least he knows which strings to pull.” 

Artemis shrugged noncommittally and went back to braiding her hair. Jason moved to help her. After all, she had a lot of hair to braid and Amazon or not, her arms were bound to be getting tired. 

“Yeah, you should be good to pick him up. But of you’re taking him to the Manor– just be sure to not overwhelm him, you know? You guys are all a little overbearing.”

 Jason frowned at that. He wouldn’t get overwhelmed, thank you very much, Roy. 

Roy shot Jason a look. “Dick’s coming,” he mouthed furiously. “Fifteen minutes.” He turned his attention back to the phone call. “Yeah, we’ll let him know. Thanks Dick.” Finally, Roy hung up. “Oh my god that was glorious . Totally fell for it, hook, line and sinker.” 

“I think the whole mushy thing about family was pushing it,” Jason said, “but hey, whatever works.” 

Roy shrugged. 

“And it's not going to work next time, Roy,” Artemis admonished. “Not with all your snickering.” 

“What, you want me to go take a walk or something?” 

“Yeah,” Jason said, fingers still automatically braiding Artemis’s hair. “We’ll tell Dick that Artemis kicked you out or something because you had too much pent-up energy.” 

“Rude.” 

Artemis grinned mischievously. “I do like the sound of kicking you out.” 

“Fine, fine, if you wanted the room to yourselves all you had to do was ask,” Roy snarked, walking out on his heels. “Try not to enjoy the time without my beautiful face too much.” 

“We can only hope to try,” Jason deadpanned. 

The newfound silence gave Jason time to get into character. Okay. So he was a guy in a very strange environment surrounded by a bunch of people he didn’t know. He could do this. If in doubt, he could just always stay silent and try not to break character. By the time Dick came, he felt he was ready. 

He hunched over and generally tried to look as distant and confused as possible. Jason furrowed his brow at the man in front of him. “Who are you?” 

Dick’s face fell.

Oh hell. This was going to be a lot of improv. 

Tim Drake: Present

Tim trudged up the stairs to his room just in time to see Jason sneaking out of his. He was supposed to be having mandatory nap time (Tim had laughed at that, much to Jason’s clear chagrin), although Tim supposed that never would have worked– especially if Jason had been… acting like normal. Dimly, Tim thought to himself how nice a nap of his own sounded. Maybe he could squeeze one in before dinner. 

Unfortunately, Tim had plans. He’d just gotten off the phone with Roy this morning. Him and Artemis were mostly convinced that the cause of Jason’s amnesia was magical, due to the fact that he looked completely normal on all of their tests and scans. But what they weren’t sure about was how long it would last. 

Maybe Tim could help to jog Jason’s memory. He was thinking of showing Jason some of his pictures after his nap, but since Jason was already awake, Tim decided he could do it now. He couldn’t say he wasn’t happy for the excuse to show somebody his photography. Usually, Jason wouldn’t have the time or care to have a look at them, but Tim was damn proud of them and he could live with this excuse to show them off. After all, it was for a good cause.  

“Hey Jason.” The man looked up. “Can you come with me for a sec?” 

“What do you want?” 

“Well I had some ideas on how we could start to jog your memory– if you’re up to do it of course.” 

“Does it really have to be– alright fine . But don’t keep me there for hours . I’ve got a schedule.” 

Tim snorted, guiding Jason to his room. “And what’s on it? Sleep?” 

“Yes, among other things.” 

“Sounds fake, but okay.” Tim grabbed his binder of pictures from under his bed. None of them were the originals– those were hidden in a much safer location. He didn’t want people stealing or destroying his hard work, after all. “Just look at these,” he said, pushing the binder towards Jason. “See if they spark any memory or recognition.” 

Jason hesitated. Finally though, he opened the binder to the first page. It was Batman and Robin, leaping across the rooftops as if gravity didn’t apply to them. Tim had been so proud when he’d first taken it– he couldn’t wait to show his parents. His parents never saw it. He’d shown it to his Robin action figure instead. 

Slowly, Jason began to make his way through the pictures. “Damn stalker kid,” Jason muttered. “Can’t give a guy a moment of peace.” Wait–  what ? How would Jason have known about that? Jason spoke again, this time louder. “You take these pictures, kid?” 

“Yeah?” 

“They’re good.” Tim felt his face flush at the praise. “You got a lot of ones of Robin, huh?” 

Tim cleared his throat. “Uh yeah. He’s my favourite.” He stole a glance at the binder. “Pretty sure he hates me though.” 

Jason stilled. Noticeably. “Why?” 

“He showed me that I could still be good and kind in the face of anything, no matter what.” Why was he telling Jason this?  He’d make fun of Tim for ages after he got his memory back but– Tim couldn’t help it. A smile ghosted over his lips. “Robin was magic. ” 

For a moment, Tim sat still. “One day I ran into him. He was so mad at me, he hated me I– I guess they tell you to not meet your heroes for a reason huh?” Why why why why why was be telling Jason this?

Jason’s brow furrowed. “I’m sure he didn’t hate you. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding.” 

Chuckling Tim shook his head. Coming from Jason, even from an amnesiac Jason, that meant a lot. “No, I’m pretty positive he did.” 

“Well he must have been a jerk then. You’re a good kid.” Jason looked back down at the binder. “Uh, if anything, you were the one that deserved Robin out of us all.” 

Tim smiled. He could die happy. Jason had given him his blessing to be Robin and– wait . Wait a damn second. How did Jason know that Tim was Robin? How did Jason know that he used to be Robin? How did Jason know that Tim was once that stalker kid with the camera? 

How had Jason remembered? Unless… unless he had never forgotten in the first place. Realization dawned on Tim and he threw the binder onto Jason’s lap with a fervor. “Jason, you idiot! ” He poked his brother’s chest pointedly. “This whole… amnesia thing– it’s all a lie, isn’t it?” 

The man actually had the audacity to try and deny it. “Woah woah woah, where’d you get that idea from?”

“You. Now, are you going to come clean or make a fool of yourself and double down?” 

Jason deflated. “Alright, fine . You got me. This whole amnesia thing is fake– is that what you wanted to hear?” 

Tim actually couldn’t believe it. Jason had tricked him– all of them. And it was pretty convincing too. When Tim had first heard the news, he didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or to cry. Sure, his relationship with Jason hadn't been the best, but they’d made amazing progress within the past few months and then– then it was all gone in an instant. Now Tim wanted to smack Jason upside the head. 

And of course, that had to be the perfect moment for Duke to burst into the room. 

“Okay, would someone mind repeating that? Because what the hell did I just hear?” 

“Jason’s been faking amnesia this whole time,” Tim filled in magnanimously. 

If possible, Jason looked even more sullen. “It’s not nice to eavesdrop, Dukey-boy.” 

Duke wrinkled his nose. “One: why would you even do that and two– please never say that again.” 

At that, Jason grinned, all teeth. “No promises, Dutchess . And to answer your question; emotional warfare. Think of it as revenge– except I get to guilt you into doing stuff for me.” 

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And how many people know about this?” 

“The Outlaws,” Jason said, counting on his fingers. “ Cass, and now you two.” 

“So you’re trusting us with your secret,” Duke stated. 

“Not voluntarily, but sure.” 

“And why should we keep this secret?” Tim asked crossing his arms. 

“Bird’s…  honour?” 

Tim nearly burst out laughing. 

“No, no wait, I’ve got a reason,” Duke cut in from between stifled laughs. “Great bonding experience. I think we should do this more often.” 

Jason pointed a finger at Duke. “You. You get it. Now are you going to swear to secrecy or what?” 

“Hey wait, I don’t remember saying anything about that,” Duke said. “I mean, I’m all for secrecy and stuff, but for a price, you know.” 

Tim grinned wickedly. “What will you give us to ensure our silence, Jason?” 

Jason groaned. “Not you too.” He sighed, gathering himself together. Okay, what do you brats want? You only get one thing so choose wisely.” 

“I want access to your arsenal. And helmets” Tim said innocently. Oh, the pranks he could get up to. 

The light in Jason’s eyes died a little with that. He should know full well of Tim’s capabilities by now and he should be scared . “And you Duke?” 

“I want to be the Red Hood for a week.” 

“Oh come on .” 

“Ooh, I like that one Duke,” Tim said. “ Can I change my answer?” 

“No.” 

Damian Wayne

Damian Wayne wasn’t upset. No. He was simply… unhappy with the disorder that Todd had brought to the Manor. 

First, he’d completely ruined the family breakfast with his bumbling new demeanor and failing to make them crepes. Pennyworth’s crepes were adequate but something in the rarity of Todd’s crepes that made them all the better. Damian had been looking forward to them– and then Todd had shown up with amnesia. Typical. 

Then he had to go and take up all of Father and Richard’s attention too. The two fretted over him, over the situation– although Father’s fretting was much more removed after the events of the the previous night. He was obsessed with trying to find a cause and cure to Todd’s condition and Richard obsessed with micromanaging the family so that Todd could feel relaxed. Who would feel relaxed when one remembered nothing about themself, Damian didn’t know, but Richard tried anyway. 

Nevermind that Richard was supposed to help Damian with his homework. Nevermind that Father had promised Damian that they’d finally sit down and watch those old black and white movies together. Nevermind. 

And to top it all off– Todd and him had a schedule. They were supposed to train together at least twice every week. And if Todd deemed his training up-to par, he was supposed to take Damian on his motorcycle for a joyride around the city. Something that Father and Richard never would have approved of, but no matter. And now, Todd couldn’t even remember where Damian’s damn room was. 

So Damian wasn’t upset. He was unhappy. (He dismissed the unwelcome thought that upset and unhappy were practically synonyms, because his point still remained.) 

Because if Todd stayed like this… he would have nobody to swap stories with about Mother with, nobody to complain about the League with. Nobody whose house he could run off to when father was being unreasonable. Because as much as Todd was an oaf, at least he understood Damian. Didn’t pity him, like most people. Understood him. And understood that he didn’t want pity. 

Damian was left with only one viable option. He had to find a way to cure Todd. Father’s attempts were so far only limited to his research and were thus too far removed. Damian planned to go for a much more direct approach. 

Night was beginning to fall, casting long shadows in the hallway. It would be perfect to slip into… and wait. If Damian was in the League, he would have waited with the hilts of razor-sharp blades in his palms. He waited with a pair of wooden escrimas instead. After all, he didn’t want to kill Todd. 

Finally, Damian heard heavy steps make their way up the hallway. They were tired, and more importantly, they were alone. The figure approached… and Damian pounced. 

Todd let out a grunt of surprise when Damian tackled him to the floor. He struggled for a moment before seeing Damian and just sighed. “Okay, wanna tell me what the hell that was?” He disarmed Damian and in a fluid movement that he was supposed to teach Damian this week. Supposed to– if this memory loss had not gotten in the way. 

Unbiddenly, Damian’s throat constricted. It felt a chore to keep his face straight and yet he did anyway. Or, at least he tried to. 

“You must regain your memories as soon as possible, Todd.” 

Todd’s face scrunched up into one of confusion. “What? You do know that I can’t just decide to get my memories back, right? That’s not how this works.” 

“Yes, which is why I brought this,” Damian explained patiently, holding up an escrima stick. 

“You were planning to jump me because I have amnesia?” 

“No, don’t be an idiot. Some of my studies show that by receiving more head trauma in the right place may return your memory.” 

“Well that’s stupid.” 

Damian grunted. “ Well Father’s efforts at returning your memory are much too slow and it would be preferable for this process to be quick so… “

“Are you sure you didn’t just want an excuse to whack me with those things?” Todd asked dubiously, gesturing to the escrima sticks. “And wait, is Bruce really trying to find a way to restore my memories?” 

“Are you deaf? Yes, of course   he is. However his research is taking much too long and I simply do not have the patience for it.” 

Todd studied the floorboards. “Huh,” he said to nobody in particular. “So the old man isn’t ignoring me after all.” 

Damian tutted. “Alright, enough about Father. Now do you want to go along with my plan or not?” 

“Me consenting to your plan didn’t seem like an important factor before this.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t aiming to coddle your feelings,” Damian spat, impatient. “You simply must return to normal because– because– you cannot stay like this. I will not lose you.” He hated how choked his voice sounded, hated that his vision was blurring with something (not tears, never tears , Damian Wayne  didn’t cry ) and he scrubbed at his face in an attempt to hide it but– 

“Woah, hey, kiddo.” Todd leaned towards him, pulling him closer. His voice sounded much softer now. “Hey, hey, look. I’m sorry about all of this okay? I–” 

“Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault Todd,” Damian said bitterly. “It wasn’t like you caused it and I don’t need your comforting. I’m not a child.” 

“Uh, about that…  I have something to tell you.” 

Damian sniffed and levelled him with the fiercest Batglare he could muster. “What?” 

“I erm… I’ve been faking amnesia the whole time,” Todd confessed sheepishly. “To be fair though, I wasn't planning–” 

“You what ?” Damian hissed. “You’ve been pretending this whole time ?”

Todd sighed. “Uh, yeah. 

“Prove it.” 

He thought for a moment. “You broke into my safehouse a few months ago and stole one of my helmets. You thought I wasn’t home so you also decided to raid my pantry and then I find you sitting on my couch, eating my snacks and–” 

“Alright alright, that is adequate proof,” Damian said, very aware of his reddening face. How was he supposed to know that Todd would be home that night? He was supposed to be on patrol. Damian jabbed Todd in the side with his escrima stick. “You are an imbecile.” 

Todd groaned, clutching his side. “So I’ve been told.” 

“Because it’s true,” Damian smirked. “Now come read to me before I decide to tell everyone else in this house about your secret.” 

Dick Grayson

Dick was tired. Of several things in particular, but mostly just tired . He made his way down into the Cave anyway. Sometimes, he felt like he was holding this trainwreck of a family together. Why was he even doing this? He’d literally grown up an only child and the baby of the family. He was in no way qualified to play ‘the responsible one’ in any way, shape or form. But duty called. 

In this case, duty was Bruce. Specifically, scolding Bruce. More specifically, scolding Bruce for burying himself in his work to escape his problems. (It might have been hypocritical, but hey, if at least one of them could stop running from their issues, Dick would count that as a win). 

He made sure to make plenty of noise as he walked– which became marginally harder when Dick wore socks with his slides. Say what you will about bad fashion sense, but the cave was cold . 

“Hey, B?” 

Dick got only a grunt in return. The man in question has hunched over in his so-called “Bat-Chair”, face illuminated only by the several monitors that surrounded him. The desk Bruce sat at was scattered with papers, reports and leather-bound books written in strange scripts. 

“I gotta talk to you. It’s important. It’s– it’s about Jason.” 

Bruce whirled. “Yes?” 

“You gotta be better, Bruce.” He should… just get to the point. “Look, I know that… incident the other night spooked Jason– spooked all of us– but that doesn’t give you an excuse to just ignore him until… until his memories return.” 

Bruce sighed. “You have to understand, Dick, the work I’m doing here is important. And… he was uncomfortable enough with my presence last night. I don’t want to make him feel out of place.”He paused. “I’m not…  ignoring him. I’m just looking after him in a different way.” he countered, gesturing with his hands. 

Dick tilted his head, considering. After a moment, he spoke. “He doesn’t know that.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m not saying you should stop your work here, Bruce. Just try to turn over a new page with Jason. Don’t be too overbearing. Try and imagine yourself in his shoes.” 

With a thoughtful grunt, Bruce nodded slowly. “I’ll try.” 

“I mean it Bruce. This isn’t just something you can agree to do and then just not follow through. He’s your son . He’s family . He needs to know that you care , Bruce. And he needs to hear it from you . Earnestly .”

The man looked away. “Dick, I–” he blew out a puff of air. “What if I mess it up again? What if I scare Jason away for good?” 

“ Hey , Bruce.” He looked up. “You’ll be fine,” Dick reassured. “Just focus on talking to Jason first. It could be about anything– the weather, business at WE, whatever. You’re the goddamn Batman. You should be able to figure it out.”

Bruce sighed. “You know, it’s getting late, chum. Why don’t we sleep on it?” 

“I think you mean, why don’t you sleep on it. This is your conversation Bruce. And–” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at Bruce– “In order to sleep on it, you actually need to go to sleep. So don’t just trick me into going up while you stay up till God-knows when. It’s not gonna work, B-man.”  

Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

“Also that is such a cop-out,” Dick said. “Trying to get me to go to bed so that we can drop this conversation–” 

“ Hey –” 

“Though you should probably listen to your own advice anyway. You make terrible decisions when you’re tired.” 

“Do I now?” 

“Yep,” Dick said, turning on his heel. “If I don’t find you upstairs in half an hour, you’re a dead man walking.” 

Bruce chuckled. “Alright then.” 

“I mean it!” Dick yelled as he left. He wasn’t sure how he’d get Bruce to actually listen to him but he figured a good old-fashioned snitch to Alfred when he returned might do the trick. He just hoped that Bruce would actually go ahead and talk to Jason like a normal human being. Sometimes of which Bruce was incapable of being. 

Upstairs, Dick’s room happened to be right next to Jason’s. Which… was usually only a good thing if he wanted to be woken up by Jason’s snores on the rare occasion they were both spending the night in the Manor. Tonight, however, he was glad to hear that his brother was sleeping– and quite soundly too. 

 He listened intently for the sound of Bruce’s footsteps coming up the stairs as he changed into his pajamas. They didn’t come. He went to brush his teeth. But– he’d scarcely picked up his toothbrush when he’d heard a scream. 

It had come from Jason’s room. 

The sound was ragged, strangled. And it made Dick’s heart twist. 

Dick dropped his toothbrush back into its cup next to the sink and made his way to Jason’s door. He knocked. 

Once. 

Twice. 

“Jay? You okay?” 

Nightmares by themself were bad news in and of itself. But with Jason’s current state– with  his added ignorance of what had happened to him? Dick couldn’t imagine having to relive all your worst fears for the first time with no way of knowing what anything meant. Without invitation, memories of him dealing with the after-effects of getting fear gassed rose in Dick’s mind. If anything similar was happening to Jason– 

Dick cracked the door open. 

Jason was still asleep, if fitfully. The bedsheets were tangled around his legs from his thrashing and while he was no longer screaming, a never-ending string of muttered pleas spilled from his lips, begging his oppressor to stop . 

Dick reached out a hand. “Jay,” he said, more insistently this time. “Jay, wake up. Jason .” Bracing for a blow, he shook his brother’s shoulder. Jason flinched at the touch. Dick was just about to draw away when a hand seized his wrist. 

Jason was awake now, eyes wide open and very much green . Glowing, almost. His chest was still heaving. Dick could feel how quick his heartbeat was from his finger pressed to Jason’s wrist. 

“What are you–” Jason broke off, clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?” 

“You were having a nightmare.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Jason released Dick’s arm with a swat. “I know,” he said flatly.

“You know, if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here,” Dick offered. 

“Well I don’t.” 

“Look, I know that some things you saw may not have made sense but–” 

“What didn’t make sense, Dick?” Jason asked viciously, leaning in close. “The fact that I got traumatized as a kid, huh? Oh no, poor Jason, dying scarred him forever . I don’t want your pity,” he spat. 

Dick raised his hands placatingly. “Okay, okay, I’m not–” Wait. Jason had mentioned dying. “Jason, can you tell me what you dreamt about? Did… did they feel like memories at all?"

A look of confusion crossed Jason’s face. It vanished as quickly as it had come.“None of your business, Dickface. Now get out.” 

The name gave Dick a pause. Sure, it could have been a coincidence, but Jason had hurled that name far too many times at him for Dick to think so. He pointed an accusatory finger at Jason. “How much do you remember?” 

Jason scowled. “If I tell you, will you leave me alone?” 

“Maybe.” 

The man considered him for a moment. “Fine. Just don’t go blabbing about it to everyone.” With Dick’s assent, he took a deep breath and told him the truth. Everything. 

It was all a lie. 

And all because of that training incident. 

Dick didn’t know what to feel. Irritation at the whole situation, relief that Jason was okay and smugness about his suspicions from moments ago being right. He knew something had been off. But up until then, he’d believed in Jason’s story wholeheartedly. He had to hand it to his brother– as dramatic as faking one’s own amnesia was, Jason certainly had the acting skills for it.  

His brother was such a drama queen. 

“And before you ask why I’d even do such a thing, blah blah blah, it seemed like a good idea at the time, okay? Now I owe a lotta things to a lotta people so let me mope about my loss in peace.” 

Dick pursed his lips. “Do I get anything?” 

“Yeah. A promise that I won’t shoot you in the foot if you scram right now.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I will, you jerk. Just make sure you tell Bruce by tomorrow.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Was planning on doing that anyway, Dickhead. He’s the only one that doesn’t know by now.” 

“Hmph.” He ruffled Jason’s hair, more to annoy the man than anything (who responded with an unholy screech). Dick finally got up. “Good night, sleep tight, yadda yadda yadda,” he said, waving his hand sarcastically. 

“ Bye. ” The word was said more as a dismissal than anything. 

Dick shut the door. 

Well. That was a whole twenty-four hours of his life wasted. 

Even so, he couldn’t help but be a little bit proud of Jason’s skill to dupe everyone in the family, if only for a little while. Well played Jason, well played. 

Jason Todd

The jig was up, Jason supposed. To be fair, he was a little bit relieved. It was insanely energy-consuming to stay in-character at all times, knowing that the smallest falter would tip the Bats off. And… it kinda did. Bruce was now the only one yet to realize Jason’s stunt. Dick sometimes used to tell him that Bruce’s judgement became extremely clouded when it came to him. Maybe he was right, Jason thought. 

It felt weird to sneak down to the Cave– like he was a kid all over again. But if he wanted to get back out in the field as the Red Hood anytime soon, he’d need to inspect his gear and his uniform. And Jason was itching to get back out in the field, get back to his Outlaws. The set in the Cave happened to be the closest and there was something oddly calming about checking through all of his stuff. And really, he could use a little calm. At least, before he finally told Bruce about the whole amnesia thing and Bruce inevitably went ballistic. It had been fun while it lasted. 

Just as Jason was examining a scratch on his helmet, he heard footsteps approaching. Bruce. Well, now was probably as good a time as ever to confront him. 

Bruce looked almost… surprised to see him. Like he wasn’t supposed to be here. Which… he really wasn’t because amnesiac Jason wasn’t supposed to know about the Red Hood or the vigilante business at all. Oh well. 

“Hey old man.” 

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “Who let you down here?” 

“Myself,” Jason replied, putting the helmet down. It gave Bruce a pause upon noticing it. 

“You must have questions,” he finally said slowly. “I can answer them if you give me the time.” 

“Uh, no, I think I’m good.” 

Bruce sighed. “No, really, it’s not a problem.” 

“And I’m good . Really.” 

“Well then,” Bruce said, pressing his lips into a thin line. “There is something I should clarify. And… well, it’s time you knew the truth.” 

Despite himself, something in Jason’s stomach twisted. “Bruce–” 

“No, no, Jay, it needs to be said. The truth is that we have all dedicated ourselves to a greater cause. Bigger than just you and me. We try our best to keep Gotham, and the world, a better place. In short, we’re vigilantes, all of us. And… I don’t say this nearly enough but… the work you do out there? It’s good work.” 

The words struck Jason in the chest like a sledgehammer. But Bruce wasn’t finished. 

“I’m proud of your empathy. Your bravery. Your leadership. I’m proud of the fact that you are able to go out and do the things that I can’t. I’m proud of you . Every. Single. Day.” 

He’s… he’s proud of me , Jason thought dumbly. 

“Jay… I–” Bruce broke off in a sigh. “I would love more than anything to get your memories back to you. Sure, we’ve had our fair share of disagreements and you’ve given me more than enough headaches but I don’t care about that. But in the event that we can’t– just know that I’m not going to care about that either. We’ll just keep living through it.  You’re family, memories or not, alright?” 

Jason ducked his head, eyes burning. This was stupid. Jason was not going to start crying because Bruce had told him that he was proud of him and– “What do we disagree on?” Jason asked, still not meeting Bruce’s eye. 

Laughing humourlessly, Bruce told him. “A lot of things Jay! How to cut a sandwich, in which order the milk and the cereal goes, what foods it is socially acceptable to eat with utensils.” Jason smirked. He remembered their very heated conversation about why on Earth Bruce chose to eat burgers with a knife and fork. “Bigger things too. How we as vigilantes should operate. Using guns in the field. Whether it’s morally acceptable to kill.” 

He had to hold his tongue at that. Jason didn’t kill people randomly. Only the ones beyond salvation, the ones who’d caused too much damage and pain and destruction to be allowed to continue living. Like the Joker. And really– he often did give them much more kindness than they deserved in their final moments. 

But Jason had to note that Bruce didn’t gloss over their arguments. So… he really was telling Jason the truth about everything, wasn’t he?

Willing to look everywhere but Bruce’s face, he glanced off at the Batcomputer to the left. Which– woah. “What the hell happened there?” 

The place looked like a tornado had ran through it. Well, not really but the place was a mess. Papers, files, old books and documents were littered everywhere, which gave Jason a pause. Bruce was usually meticulous about keeping the area clean– or at least functional. But now there was too much junk strewn everywhere to really get any work done at all. 

“Ah, you’ve found my research. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what happened to you so that we can potentially reverse it but…” he waved his hand in the air. “No luck. But… I won’t say that I didn’t partially use the work to avoid…” Bruce stopped, visibly thinking hard about how he wanted to phrase whatever he was going to say. “After last night I was afraid that my being around might make you uncomfortable so–” 

 Jason might’ve actually appreciated Bruce’s sentiment if he were still a scrawny kid wary of pretty much every adult. But now… Jason just felt guilty. Bruce just seemed so concerned and– Oh God, Bruce was never going to trust him again, was he? Well, it was probably best to just rip the bandaid off. “Bruce? I have to tell you something.” 

“Yes?” 

Jason took a deep breath. “It was stupid and petty of me and I probably shouldn’t have done it but I did and–” He huffed. “I don’t have amnesia.” His voice sounded small, even to himself. 

Bruce blinked. “What?” 

Steeling himself he looked at Bruce. “The amnesia. It was fake.” The man still looked like he was in a state of shock so Jason continued. “Why do you think this happened right when Alfred left on vacation? Why do you think that the cause of the amnesia was so hard to determine, why nothing would ever show up on tests? It’s because it was never real in the first place. Ask me anything only I would know. I can prove it.” 

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “What was the movie we always watched when you got sick as a kid?” 

“Pride and Prejudice.” 

Aaand Bruce was back to gaping like a fish. “You faked amnesia.” 

“Yeah, Bruce. I wanted to get revenge on them after the whole… training incident.” He sighed. “I guess I only made things worse, huh?” 

“Probably. That was a tad dramatic, even for us, Jay.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You know,” Bruce said, tapping his chin, “if you can go apologize to the rest of your siblings, I’ll have a talk with them about your training incident and to stop giving you grief about it.” 

Jason groaned, sliding his hand over his face. “Do you know how mortifying that would be Bruce?”

He shrugged. “My offer still stands.”

“Do I have any alternate options?”

“Well, you’ve got to make it up to them somehow. What you did was rash and could have hurt a lot of people. Although–” Bruce held a hand up in the air expectantly. “The next time we have an undercover mission, remind me to consider you.” 

Hah. He’d better be. His acting skills did not deserve to go to waste after all. “Hey, I’d say I’ve already more than made up for it.... except really Dick and Damian. But that can be amended,” Jason said, smirking. He told Bruce about the favours he’d pulled with the rest of his siblings, to which Bruce raised his eyebrows. 

“So then I’m sure you won’t mind doing a small favour for me too then?” 

Jason stilled. “What do you want,” he asked suspiciously. 

“You’ll be the one explaining this whole mess to Alfred as well as cleaning up any collateral,” Bruce said turning to leave. “ I have several hours of sleep to catch up on. Have fun.” 

“Hey! Bruce! Wait you can’t–” 

“Master Jason,” A smooth voice called from behind him.

Jason did not yelp. It wasn’t even a manly scream, really. Nope . Jason was perfectly calm as he whipped around to see a very frazzled pseudo grandfather/ butler standing right behind him. “Alfred! What are you– uh I thought you had a flight.”

“I did,” the old man said, “but it was delayed. And then delayed again. And again. Until finally, it was cancelled this morning. I decided to simply come home to freshen up before leaving tomorrow to catch my new flight. Now,” he said, setting down the coat he was carrying in his arms. “Tell me about this commotion that has been sweeping through my household while I was absent.” 

Jason gulped. This was not going to go well. Damn you Bruce.