Chapter Text
Tony’s opinion that Bruce Wayne was a weirdo who did weird things because he enjoyed being perceived as weird was once more proved correct when the doorbell rang.
Tony owned the penthouse.
Bruce knew Tony owned the penthouse.
Bruce knew no place Tony owned could be complete without JARVIS being installed in every single piece of technology within the place.
Bruce knew this because he had, in fact, come by the penthouse before (though he had always waited outside, and never come in by himself).
And even if Bruce had somehow missed the fact that JARVIS knew he was there and would, therefore, announce his arrival to the people inside the penthouse, JARVIS would have told him.
Instead Bruce chose to dramatically alter the mood in the room by unnecessarily ringing the doorbell.
What a fucking diva.
“Right,” Alfred said, smiling down at Harley and Mia. “How about we go in the living rooms? I believe there will be a need for privacy very soon.”
“But–”
“Move along, Master Peter,” the butler continued, pointedly motioning for Dick to do the same. “Master Richard.”
“Coming, coming...”
Tony placed the spoon in his hand back on the table, eyeing Jason from the corner of his eyes.
“Jay?”
He was standing very still with a porcelain plate in his hands, staring down the door. His expression was hard to read, and he had not moved from the moment the doorbell had rung.
He did not look like he wanted to run, but Tony could not begin to guess what was going through his head.
“If you want me to stay–”
“No.” Jason turned stiffly to face him, and shook his head, one single jerky movement. “You can go.”
He really did not want to do that.
Jason was... Jason , and Bruce, well... he was Bruce.
Neither of these things were conductive to a proper conversation that wouldn’t result in potential destruction of property or body injuries.
Not that he thought Bruce would fight Jason. Not now, not today (not ever, if he cared for his life).
But he couldn’t be sure that Jason wouldn’t fight Bruce. He couldn’t be sure that Jason wouldn’t attack him, or injure himself trying.
And he was sure that if things went sour today... it would be the precedent both of them would measure everything that followed against.
It needed to go well.
But he couldn’t impose his presence on Jason, no matter how reasonable of a decision he thought it’d be.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll just be in the other room.”
Another emotionless jerky nod that Tony did not like.
Still, Jason needed this. Bruce needed this.
They both needed this, and whatever would follow.
It did not mean that Tony did not walk into the bedroom closest to the dining room instead of the living room, just in case.
“You two shouldn’t be here,” he said as soon as he stepped in.
“And what were you doing at the devil’s sacrament?” asked Eliza, turning on one of the screens in the room.
Immediately, a feed of the living room appeared.
“I... don’t know what that means.”
“She called you a hypocrite,” said Dick, eyes fixed on the screen. He was standing in front of the door, arms crossed, and he looked as tense as Tony felt.
“Mr Wayne is here,” came from JARVIS, loud enough for their and Jason’s benefit. “Shall I let him in?”
“It will be fine,” said Tony, eyes fixing on the screen. “See, Jay is nodding. This is a good sign.”
“He broke the plate,” dispassionately said Eliza.
That was indeed true.
Jason’s expression was still blank, but the plate he had been clutching was now broken in half, one half in each of his hands.
“Weapon?”
“Not a weapon,” said Tony, as the door opened and Bruce stepped in.
Jason’s hands pressed tighter on the plate.
“Maybe a weapon.”
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
They just stood, on opposite sides of the room, silently staring at each other.
Cataloguing the changes in each other, maybe.
After all, this had to be the first time they were face to face with one another, no masks, no costumes, nothing between them.
“Are they going to–”
“Shh!”
Jason blinked first.
He shifted on one foot and crossed his arms, ignoring the plates in his hands.
“Well? Are you going to say something, or are you just going to keep staring at me like that?”
“Jaylad,” said Bruce, and Tony did not miss the way his hands tightened on the broken plate at that. Neither did Bruce, as he immediately reached forward. “Your hands–”
“I’m fine,” snapped Jason, shifting back. “I don’t need your help.”
“You’re not fine,” protested Bruce. “You–”
“So now you’re going to tell me what I am, and what I’m not?”
“I’m just trying t–”
“Well, don’t!” He looked around the room, agitated, and placed the broken plate on the table. “Why are you even here, Bruce? Just to piss me off?”
“This is not going well,” sagely deduced Liz. Her teeth were worrying her lower lip, and her scent was quickly souring with anxiety.
Dick was standing even closer to the door, and when Tony glanced at him, he looked back expectantly.
He at least was keeping a tight hold on his emotions, even as he was clearly waiting for Tony to tell him that he needed to go play peacemaker between the two of them.
In Batman and Nightwing's early days, when Tony wasn't around, it had been Jason playing peacekeeper between Bruce and Dick.
Bruce wasn’t the perfect father.
Tony wasn’t the perfect parent either, but he tended to get away with it, most of the time.
People (specifically Dick and Eliza) were more likely to remind Bruce of his failings as a parent. Tony himself had done so on occasion.
That didn’t mean Bruce was a bad parent.
That didn’t mean Bruce didn’t know how to be a parent.
It was Bruce who had seen a newly orphaned Dick and brought him home.
He hadn’t brought him home to make him Robin. He had brought him home because he understood what Dick had gone through, because he understood the pain Dick was in, in a manner few people could.
He had taken Dick in and taken care of him, loved him and respected him even when Dick had been full of rage and vengeance. He had... not tamed him per se, but cracked the cold exterior Dick had crafted around himself following his parents’ murder. He had empathised with what the young boy had gone through, and loved and cared him into the person he was today.
Batman and Robin/Nightwing fought like cats and dogs.
But Bruce and Dick? When they remembered they were people outside their capes, they were thick as thieves.
Bruce had loved and cared for Dick from the moment he had decided to take him.
Tony had been lucky to end up in Dick and Jason’s lives.
Bruce had chosen Dick and Jason. Bruce had found them (or they had found him).
If Bruce and Tony hadn’t been married, Tony liked to think he’d have ended up around Dick and Jason anyway. But he knew Bruce would have found them one way or another, Tony or not Tony.
Bruce had closed himself off, after Jason. He had kept his heart more guarded, tightened his hugs to the point where someone might mistook his arms as a cage (Tony knew he had).
But that didn’t mean he had changed. That didn’t mean his love had changed.
He hadn’t stopped loving Jason. Maybe he had been quieter about it, maybe he had kept his grief a secret from almost everyone, but he had never stopped loving Jason.
Come on, you stupid idiot, Tony thought, lips pressed together. Talk to your son. Give him something to go on on. Say something – anything.
“I’m here...” Bruce crossed his arms, and Tony did not miss the twin grimaces on Dick and Eliza both – though he wasn’t sure what had brought this on.
“I’m here because I love you,” Bruce said, and Tony almost relaxed. “And because I forgive you.”
Jesus F. Christ.
“I–”
“Forgive me?” Predictably came from Jason. His eyes seem to shine brighter now. “You think I want your forgiveness? You think I need your forgiveness? Fuck you, Bruce.”
“Jason–”
“I don’t want or need your forgiveness,” Jason spat. His fists were clenched. “I never asked for it, because I don’t want it. I don’t want you.”
“Jason-”
“Let me make this perfectly clear,” Jason continued, a sneer on his face. “I am not the broken little robin you could command around, anymore. I am not that deluded child who trusted you. The pup who actually believed you when you told him ‘everything was going to be fine’? He’s dead.”
Bruce flinched, and Jason’s smirk grew.
“Yes. He’s dead and gone, and I’m the one who’s left.” A cruel expression. “A budding crime lord who uses guns and kills whoever pisses him off, for no reason at all. Your precious son is dead.”
There were many words one could use to describe Bruce Wayne and Batman.
Stubborn. Brave. Strong. Adaptable. Analytical. Brilliant. Charismatic. Closed off.
Many of these words applied to Tony too.
One word that would not be applied to Bruce was cruel.
Bruce was many things, but cruel was not one of those.
That title belonged to Tony alone.
Whether he meant it or not, he knew he had been described as cruel on occasion, that jokingly or not, he had been attributed the word.
He liked to complain that the kids were too much like Bruce, but in Jason’s words he almost heard himself.
Jason had never been the cruel child.
Before, Jason would have never said something like this.
But this wasn’t the before Jason.
This was the Jason they had now. The Jason who had survived.
Tony could take it. He could dish it out, and he could take any sharp word, any knife to the chest, so long as he had the children.
Bruce was not soft, no. He could not be Batman, were he soft.
But he had a kind heart, and as much as he could not bring himself to blame Jason for this, for his emotions, he could not help but feel a stab of pain on Bruce’s behalf.
Jason did not deserve what happened to him. He was entitled to his emotions.
But Bruce had loved Jason. Bruce still loved Jason.
He did not deserve these sharp words.
“You’re right,” said Bruce, surprising both Jason and Tony. His eyes had remained fixed on Jason throughout the ordeal, and he hadn’t flinched or reacted to any of those words, any of Jason’s barbs.
“The second Robin is dead,” said Bruce. “He will never come back again.”
“What would you need him for anyway?” Jason appeared unbalanced, but quickly found his anger again. “You already have a replacement.”
Bruce, thankfully, ignored that.
“I can’t pretend I won’t miss him. I can’t pretend I won’t miss my Robin. The Robin made of magic.” Jason’s glare grew. “I will miss him as much as I will always miss my first Robin. The Boy Wonder.”
Tony heard a sharp inhale from Dick.
“Robin is not Nightwing,” continued Bruce. “Robin is not Red Hood. Hell, Robin is not even Robin. Each Robin is different, and no matter who wears the mask, I will always love them.
“I loved Robin. But,” and here his expression hardened into something almost Batman, but not exactly, “I will always love Jason Todd more.”
Jason’s eyes widened a fraction.
“I don’t need Robin back. I don’t even care about Red Hood and what he does.” He paused. “Well, Batman does. Batman will care about Red Hood’s actions. But what Bruce Wayne cares about is Jason Todd. What Bruce Wayne cares about is the fact that his son is alive. That his son is back from the dead, that he has another chance to have his child in his arms again.
“So, fine. You don’t need my forgiveness. Neither Jason nor Red Hood want it. That won’t stop me from forgiving everything you have or will continue to do. And it will sure as hell not stop me from loving both sides – any side of you forever.”
“You are not making any sense,” said Jason. His brows were furrowed, and his fists still clenched. But his eyes were a clearer green, no longer so vibrant, no longer shining. “I am a murderer, now. A killer, who breaks your rule.”
“You break Batman’s rule, and I don’t care about that,” said Bruce, and it sounded almost believable. Almost. “That doesn’t make you any less my son. And, forgetting what Tony would do to me if I tried to hold anything you do against you, I would never try to punish you for it.”
“Because of Tony?”
It was clear he was trying to sound unimpressed and unfazed, but it came out as a question.
“Because you’re my son,” corrected Bruce.
"Batman will continue to stop the Red Hood,” he added. “That doesn’t mean that Bruce Wayne won’t have first aid ready for Jason and a comfortable bed for when he comes home.”
Tony smiled.
“Home?” Jason scoffed. “You think I’m going to go back to that room, live in that house, and everything is going to go back to normal? You really think I’d go anywhere with you?”
Tony had not allowed himself to think about what Jason was going to do after this entire situation was over.
Obviously he wanted Jason to stay with them. He wanted to ensure that Jason moved in with them, either at the Manor or at the penthouse, and remained there indefinitely.
It was what was best for everyone involved.
But convincing Jason?
That was far more complicated.
Jason was stubborn, and he did not respond to being forced to do anything. He barely responded to being asked to do things.
And coming back from– from what had happened to him, it had dialled his anger, his stubbornness and his cruelty up to eleven.
Who knew what he would do just to spite Bruce? Who knew what he would do to punish or protect Tony and the rest of his family?
Who knew what he would to punish or protect himself?
Right now, he was in a volatile emotional state. Whatever his emotions were towards everyone else, Tony could not completely ignore the fact that he was in heat.
Instincts could be clouding his judgement.
He could not be sure that Jason’s emotions and attachment to the rest of them wouldn’t change once this was over.
This was – or had been, before Bruce’s arrival – like a nice time out. A beautiful moment where it was almost like it had been before, with Tony and his children, with love and care from all of them.
Could it last? Would it last?
He didn’t know.
He didn’t know, and it scared him more than he could even articulate.
An alive Jason, while estranged, was better than a dead Jason.
He had told as much to Talia.
But he wasn’t sure he would be able to not break, was Jason to decide he wanted to leave them.
He didn’t know-
“I don’t know, what you will do after this,” Bruce said. He had taken a step closer to Jason, but he had not reached out for him, simply observing him.
Someone who did not know him would have thought he looked completely unaffected by the situation, but his neck was stiffer than before, his jaw more clenched, his eyes almost wet.
“I hope that, even if you decide you want to live by yourself, you won’t avoid us all. That you won’t stay away from your siblings or from Tony, that you won’t feel the need to avoid me.
“But I know it’s your decision. I did not react well to Dick leaving for Bludhaven, and I will forever be apologising for it. And that’s why, if you decide to live your own life, get your own place? I won’t stand in your way.”
“You couldn’t if you wanted,” Jason said.
“I know,” Bruce agreed. “You are not who I remember. You are not the second Robin anymore. You have changed.”
Jason did not flinch, but his jaw clenched.
“You are still my son, though,” Bruce continued, and the change in Jason’s expression was short, but immediate.
“Children are supposed to grow into men. Pups are supposed to present and change. I wish you hadn’t gone through what you have gone through, but... But you have. You have, and it shaped you, and that means that this is who you are now.
“I have to respect it. I have to respect you And there will be times where I don’t react correctly. Times where I make mistakes, where I make assumptions, but it doesn’t change my feelings for you. It doesn’t change that you're Jason, it doesn’t change that you are my son, and it doesn’t change that I love you.”
Now Bruce’s expression was more earnest, the affection that he had been hiding ever since Ethiopia returning to light up his face.
“Batman or no Batman,” he said, “There is nothing you could do that would make me hate you. There is nothing you can do, almost no one you can hurt that will make me not love you.
“Will I get angry at you? Probably. Will I argue your methods? Absolutely. Will I try to stop you? Most likely.
“But I will never stop loving you. I could never start hating you. I literally can’t do it, there is no way for me to do it.”
Jason did not say anything.
“If you want me to leave, I will go,” Bruce said, after a long pause. “No. If you ask me to leave, or to leave you alone, I will go. I will respect your decision – but only if you ask me to leave.
“You say those words, and I’ll go. But only if you say it, only if you ask me. Unless you ask me to leave, I will not go anywhere. Unless you tell me to go, I will stay.”
Jason continued to stare at him like he couldn’t understand him, like he couldn’t make sense of those words.
“Why?”
“Because you are my son,” readily said Bruce. The contrast between his tone, his smile and his expression hurt something in Tony’s heart. “Because you are my son, and I will love you until the day I die.”
“Your son died.”
“Robin died. My son grew up, hit a growth spurt, dyed his hair white and is now standing in front of me.”
“I didn’t dye my hair,” protested Jason, hand going to his hair automatically.
Bruce pretended to frown.
“I don’t know. It looks dyed to me.”
“It’s natural,” insisted Jason. “I’m not you. I don’t need to dye my hair because I woke up and realised I’m greying before I have even hit forty.”
“It’s the children,” said Bruce, and he smiled at Jason. “Six kids will do that to you.” Jason glanced away, and so he did not notice Bruce moving until the man’s hand touched him. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though.”
Jason did not push him away, but he scoffed.
“You would trade it to save your parents. Don’t lie.”
“Once upon a time, maybe,” Bruce said. His eyes were fixed on Jason’s, while the boy kept trying to avoid the eye contact. “Before Ethiopia, I liked to think that I would have found you anyway. Tony and I would have most likely ended up together anyway, even if my parents survived. And I think I would have found you and Dick even with them alive and well.
“But after Ethiopia” H...e rubbed a hand over Jason’s scar free face. “If I had to choose between going back to that night in Crime Alley or getting to the Joker a little earlier?” He moved in Jason’s direct line of sight. “You. Always, and forever, you.”
Jason swallowed.
“You’re lying.”
He looked like he wanted so hard to be angry, but couldn’t quite manage it.
Bruce smiled.
This time, when he wrapped his arms around him, Jason did not fight back.
He melted in the embrace.
“Delete that.”
Tony very obviously placed his phone inside of his pocket without deleting anything.
He had thought Bruce was asleep, but he also wasn't surprised to find he had been pretending.
Bruce emerged from the darkness like the creep he not so secretly was, an unimpressed look on his face.
“He will make you delete the picture.”
“That’s only if he can find the picture,” he said, leaning back against the banister of the balcony. “If any of them knew the amount of pictures I actually have of them being cute and adorable, nobody would be safe.”
Plus, this was the first picture of Jason and Bruce together in too long: there was no way Tony was deleting it.
After all, it was one thing for Jason to sit between Dick and Bruce at the dinner table like he had always done back in the day. It was another thing completely for him to fall asleep anywhere close enough for Bruce's hand to land in his hair; and that was something Tony needed saved for posterity.
Bruce snorted, and then moved forward.
He place one hand on the banister on each side of Tony, and glanced up at the moon.
Tony did not say anything. He just watched him, quietly waiting for what was coming to come next.
The man still looked exhausted, and Tony had hoped that, with Jason and the kids so close, he'd finally fall asleep and relax.
Then again, the same could be said about Tony.
Yet here he was, standing on the balcony, instead of being inside with his children and his husband.
It all felt still so fragile, was the thing.
Like the second Tony closed his eyes, he'd realise it was a dream he had woken up from, a dream he couldn't fall in again.
He had not gone to sleep since the moment he had realised Jason was back, and at this point, he was scared to.
He had a feeling Bruce was feeling something similar.
And, with him being an alpha, this emotion was probably dialled to eleven.
Bruce had been away training on how to beat up people when Eliza had been born. For almost seven years, Tony had raised his daughter by himself, never quite sure of whether his husband was alive or not.
From the moment he had realised he wasn't just experiencing a bad stomach bug, all he had felt was a strange mixture of fear and love.
The levels had changed, throughout the years. Between the first traumatic birth, raising her alone (well, with Alfred), Bruce's return, Batman, the arrival of Dick, Harley, Peter, Jason and Mia, the fear had never vanished.
It had grown and lessened at intervals, but it had always been there.
Having Jason back should be making him feel better.
And it did.
But it also reminded him of how easily he had lost him.
Of how easily he could lose him again.
How easily he could lose any of them.
It was hard to fall asleep with all of these thoughts in his head.
“I have no idea of what I’m doing,” admitted Bruce, out of nowhere.
“Nobody ever does.”
“You always know what to do.”
“I’m a great actor,” corrected Tony. Bruce’s blue eyes fixed on him, and Tony shrugged. “I am as terrified as you are. I am always scared. I am just working within the parameters I believe will work. I know most of what will make Jason flip, so I’m trying to make sure I do everything but that.”
“He’s changed,” Bruce said. “He’s grown up.”
“He divides his food and then eats it in order of what he likes least to what he likes most,” Tony said. “He still adds hot sauce to his chicken, and he still eats broccoli like it’s corn.
“He’s angrier. He’s bigger. He’s older. But he is still Jason.”
“I know that,” Bruce said, frowning down at Tony. “It’s just... he never used to look at me like he expects me to attack him or hurt him at any point. He...” He glanced away. “He never used to look at me like he doesn’t trust me.”
“He trusts you.” Bruce scoffed, and Tony reached up, turning his face back to look at him. “He’s an omega currently presenting. You think he would have allowed you to remain in his vicinity at all if he was scared of you? That he would have let you into his nest at all, if he didn’t trust you?”
Bruce pressed his lips together, and Tony rolled his eyes.
Alphas.
“He’s scared of you. Not physically, not like he thinks you will attack him. More like... More like he’s scared to believe this is real. He’s scared to think that you do still love him, he’s scared to believe that you missed him, and still love him, and that everything you’ve already told him is true.” Tony sighed. “He hides it better around me, but he does the same with me and the kids. He’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
He released Bruce, fists clenching.
“I know you respect her or whatnot, but I swear to everything holy, next time I’m seeing Talia Al-Ghul, she’s getting knocked out. She kept him for over a year, and instead of at least helping him, she just spent her time filling his head with all sort of bullshit, and for what? Because this is not making anyone like her more, and the only real thing she has achieved is pushing herself on my shit list and– why are you smiling?”
Bruce made a sound like a laugh, and before Tony could get on his case for that, he leant forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss.
Tony was not sure of the why, but it wasn’t like he was going to fight against it.
Bruce put a hand against his jaw, angling his face better, and Tony pushed forward, their bodies pressing against each other.
The night air was cold, but Bruce felt warm and comfortable against him, and Tony couldn’t help but almost melt against him.
It was familiar. It was easy.
It was Bruce.
When he leant back, he still had that annoying smile on his face.
“What is so funny?!”
“I love you,” he told him. He was still smiling. “And as much as I love the idea of you trying to fight Talia, next time you try to kill someone, I’ll stop you.”
Tony’s eyebrows rose all the way to his forehead.
“You think you could ever stop me? Please.” He rolled his eyes. “I’d have you charmed faster than Catwoman.”
Bruce groaned. “I was not charmed by Selina.”
“I know what I saw, Batman.”
“You are ridiculous,” told him Bruce. He pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I love you. Come home?”
‘Come home’.
It wasn’t that easy.
Jason was still vulnerable.
They had no idea of what he was going to do, once everything was over.
Would he stay in the penthouse? Would he find a new safehouse? Would he move away and try to cut contact? Would he want to go back to the Manor?
Tony had no idea.
Nobody could know what was actually going on in his head.
Tony had promised himself he’d never be his mother. He’d never put ‘his duty’ over his children.
He had worked so hard on being not Maria Stark, that sometimes he forgot that Bruce was not Howard Stark.
“Maybe,” he said, watching as Bruce took his hand in his, and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Soon.”
He had missed Bruce’s smile.