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CODE BY TESSISAMESS

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I said no.

[ He's puzzled over this since Jason asked him to get rid of it the first time. He understands the motive. But he doesn't...get it. Like the reason isn't good enough for him. Not for this deeply personal thing Jason is asking him to do. ]

If you won't do it, then I will.

Edited 2025-08-03 01:05 (UTC)

[The words I thought you gave a shit about me and you almost make me believe you care about me sit unsaid in Jason's mouth.

He reaches for his muzzle, to put it on, so that Bruce can't see the moue of displeasure that's slashing across his face.]

You're so full of crap.

You knew the answer when you asked.

[ Bruce won't admit this but it bothers him that Jason's hiding his face. It doesn't show on his chiseled, stoic gaze either. He just isn't ready to let go of it. Not yet. ]

You knew if I thought you were invested I would ask.

[His voice distorter is thick with static; it hides the annoyed tone, the emotion in his voice.]

You’re not stupid. You knew too. Don’t pretend.

[He gets up, starts a step, hesitates. Slings his gun up over his shoulder.]

It would be easier if I were dead. At least then you could keep mourning me.

[He says it without malice, and without self pity, like he’s reciting the weather.]

Don't. Don't say that.

[ It's a twist of the knife. Jason always knew how to turn it so it hurts the most. So it cuts the deepest. This should be easy. Letting go of the memorial should be simple. It's just a costume in glass. It's just an epitaph on a plaque. But somehow, it is still a raw nerve between them. Even after everything. ]

It means something.

[ Taking it down won't rewrite the years of grief and guilt. Or the venom and fighting that followed when Jason came back. He wants Bruce to let it go. But he can't. It just makes Bruce want to cling to the memory tighter. ]

[He can’t admit he’s hurt. He can’t do it.

But the words still wend their way out of his mouth, soft and reedy and swallowed in crackling static.]

Sure it does. It means more than me.

B.

I’m going to go.

[ He wants to say don't go, but the words get snagged. Instead, he reaches for him, tries to grab his arm to keep him from going. ]

Wait.

[He stops. Doesn’t fight the hand holding him, although a punch would be warranted.]

What.

[If the next words aren’t perfect Jason is throwing a punch.]

[ It's a hard thing to accept that Jason hates him still. Bitter and cruel, like a jab in the ribs so he can't breathe right for a couple of minutes. He must think it's as simple as walking the thing out of the cave, never to be seen again. That letting go is somehow not impossible.

He's Batman because he couldn't let go. Because he never left that alley. Because he never stopped being afraid. How do you turn all of that off? ]

The memorial stays. Until you get this fixed. Then I will take it down. Those are the terms.

[He looks at Bruce for a long time. He knows that he's wearing a mask and a domino that whites out his eyes, but they've been looking at each other for years. They know the tics, the way that they tip their heads and duck their chins.

He's trying to figure out if this is bullshit, but-

-but he wants so badly to believe that Bruce can let it go. So that Jason can let it go, too.]

I'll do the work.

[He says it softly, but then-

-he moves in, to put his arms around Bruce's shoulders, to pull him into a hug.]

[ He never really knows what to do with himself when someone hugs him. So often it seems to come out of nowhere that it he just kind of. Freezes. Like he's waiting for it to be over.

Jason doesn't get a hug back. Not at first. Not until Bruce exhales and wraps his arms around him. The memorial didn't mean more than this. Or more than him. Bruce would let it go if it meant he could keep this. ]

Thank you.

[He nods, but he doesn't want to let go, not yet.]

Let me know when you want me to-

[He takes a breath and considers it.]

-when it's done, I'll come home.

[He takes a deep breath, because yeah, that is the offer.]

[ For something that Bruce has wanted for a long time, it feels strange to hear it out loud. He'd never say he didn't want it, but now that it's here it feels fragile somehow. Like if he reaches out for it, it might just turn and bolt. ]

The room's still yours. If you want it.

Your room?

[Because the room that was his feels strangely forbidden. It's still perfectly preserved, and while the memorial case infuriated Jason, his old room-

-well. That was different. He couldn't explain how.]

[ Bruce is quiet for a moment. He'd thought Jason would have preferred his own space. It feels less like Jason is coming home and more like moving in together. It's strangely domestic. ]

I'd like that.

[He hums. He won't give up his apartment, or his safehouse, but that doesn't mean anything. Bruce has about five different place he can stash himself in Gotham, although Bruce out of all of them sleeps at home the most.]

Okay.

[He leans in a little, although he's still wearing his muzzle, and presses his forehead to Bruce.]

Hey.

There's nothing wrong with going forward.

[ There's nothing wrong with going forward. Sometimes it feels like it is. Like his focus is shifting and the Mission suffers for it.

But he has such good things in front of him. His family. Jason standing right here with his forehead pressing against his own. It's okay to go forward. ]

I'll tell Alfred to set a place for you at the table.

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