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“Jason, son,” Bruce starts with. Jason’s arms tensing where they’re crossed. Doesn’t think there’s any direction that can go but down. Watches Bruce through slitted eyes and he continues, “I think you need a break—” Jason rolling his eyes, pushing off the desk he's leaned on in time with the movement. Shoulders hunching slightly when he finally comes to a stop in front of B’s high windows. Unsurprised.
Bruce doesn’t follow him, but he doesn’t have to. Not when his voice manages just fine. Cutting through the room’s looming quality, which is wrong too. B’s voice not overtaking it to loom himself, sounding smaller instead, but Bruce never makes himself sound smaller. Not unless he’s talking to some traumatized kid on the street, and however much Jason might’ve fit the bill, he hasn’t had that consideration quite a while.
“From Robin, from Gotham—I… know it was wrong of me not to consider the stress you’ve been put under—” Jason glaring harder at the view below, and here he goes, trying to make it out like it’s his fault Jason’s getting benched. Jason’s fists clenching harder where they’re crossed, whips around—
Glares, “Can you cut the bullshit?” Taking a step towards him, then another, like he can’t bring himself to stop when he finally catches sight of Bruce sitting there so calmly, staring at him like… like… “You don’t just get to bench me!” Swiping his hands through some invisible enemy in gesture, but Bruce is the only other person in the room. Yelling, “You don’t just get to take Robin from me.”
Bruce doesn’t even twitch. Stares at him, eyes creased in concern like they’re still playing that route, and the scoff Jason lets out is tinged with hysteria. Tilts his chin back, half-laughing, “Are you kidding me?” Ceiling staring back at him with pristine.
Looks back to Bruce in time for him to start, words spaced, a harsh contrast to Jason’s, “No.” Jason pausing, glares back at him. Want’s to know what he’s playing at— “No,” Bruce says, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant.” Breathes in, shoulders rising with it. Looks straight at Jason. “I mean…” breathing in again, finally getting out, “I think both of us should take a break.”
Jason stares at him, ground tilting under his feet and his heart tilts with it. Thrown. Asks, “What?” Voice coming out too hoarse and Jason shakes his head to clear it.
Bruce continuing on without him, brow tensing, says, “From Gotham. From everything, both of us.” Pauses carefully, like he’s choosing his words and needs to recap in his head.
Jason breaking in before he can, “Excuse me—?” Incredulity high. “Since when does Batman take a break?”
“Batman?” Bruce smirks lightly. “Never. Bruce Wayne on the other hand, I have under good authority never stops taking breaks.”
Was that… a joke?
“What?” Jason cuts, harsher this time.
Bruce answering with, “I think Gotham can survive a couple of weeks under Alfred and Nightwing’s watch.” Jason shaking his head, taking several steps back—reeling. Bruce saying, “And, Lucius, as always, can handle Wayne Tower while I’m gone.”
Jason opening his mouth and it hangs for a second. Only managing to come up with, “Nightwing? Since when are you two buddy-buddy? Wouldaya do, promise him some donuts?” Sucking in a breath, tries to remember the last time Bruce made a joke.
Stares at Bruce. Jason shaking his head as he starts again, “We,” expression going distinctly pinched. And Jason would relax except this entire conversation. “Figured something out,” Bruce saying, “A truce.” Which—
Jason dragging both hands up, hovering at head-height before tugging them through his hair. Stares at Bruce, lets them drop.
Asking again, throat drier than sandpaper when his voice drags up, “What?”
Bruce’s expression softening immediately, and the floor could disappear for all Jason would jolt any worse than this.
Bruce saying, “Jason, please…” eyes flickering as he looks at him. “Sit down.”
Jason not moving, just stares back for several seconds. Skin crawling, thinks he might have to.
Takes a lurching step towards the chair beside Bruce, the one Jason had refused to begin with. One lurching step then another, until he’s falling into it in an unceremonious heap. Pushing his heels against the floor, toeing it further away from Bruce and wood screeches over wood the entire way.
Bruce watching him under heavy brows, and Jason’s just glad he starts talking before Jason runs out of things to do.
Says, “Jason.” Bruce sighing, glancing away to gather himself. “I know the last couple weeks have been… difficult.” Jason taking the time to swallow, throat bobbing so he doesn’t do something mortifying like laugh. Bruce continuing, eyes slitting on his desk as he frowns, “I know I haven’t been handling it as well as I should be, and—” he looks back at Jason finally. “I don’t think you have been either.”
“So, what?” Jason scoffs half a disbelieving laugh. “Your solution is a holiday?” Shooting a look he hopes properly states you’re crazy, and B’s lips twitch up.
Admits around his slight smile, “Alfred’s idea.” And—of course. Like Bruce could be trusted to come up with something so demonstrative.
Jason is silent for several moments, staring at his knees. Rolls his eyes up to Bruce, sighing when he finds him staring. Fight leaving his shoulders, asks Bruce’s shirt more than the man, “You want both of us to go on a holiday?”
“Yes.”
“And…” Jason’s shoulders hunch, looks to Bruce properly. Eyes tight, voice quiet, asks, “You’re not taking Robin from me?”
Bruce staring back, eyes tight for a completely different reason. Hand shifting like he wants to reach out but the space between them is too far, even for him. “No, Jason.” Sighs, eyes soft in concern and Jason misses the harsh lines around them just for the way this makes him ache. “I promise I won’t. I couldn’t.”
And… Jason just wants to believe him.
Opens his mouth, asks, “So? Where are we going?” Bruce’s slight smile coming back and Jason—
He just wants to believe him.