Work Text:
[April 9, 2024]
Jason tapped his fingers on his legs nervously, trying to ignore the way the nurses looked worriedly in his direction.
“Can-” Jason began, turning to look at Bruce. “Can we go?”
Bruce was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “I’m sorry, Jaylad. But we can’t leave just yet.”
“Right.” The red-haired 17-year-old grumbled, sinking back into the chair. “We have to talk to Commissioner Gordon because of the stupid police laws and witness bullshit.”
Bruce chuckled as he looked at his son. “You don’t mean that.”
Jason had to smile. “No.” He admitted. “I don’t.”
He looked down at his legs, which were casted at the thighs from where Joker had hit him… Actually, his whole body was covered in casts (his legs) and splints (his left arm) and bandages (everywhere), thanks to the Joker. Who was now in police custody as well as being dealt with by the FBI, BAU… everyone had come together just to make sure that the Joker would stay in Arkham.
Just like Bruce had come to save him.
After telling Alfred to get EVERYONE, because he NEEDED to get to Jason and he wished that he was able to be everywhere, but he just couldn’t-
Or that’s what Tim had told him after the pain suppressors kicked in. After Bruce had brought him to the hospital from the plane that went from Ethiopia to Gotham. After Jason had heard Bruce screaming and sobbing and banging on the locked door, determined to get in and face the Joker himself-
And just-
God.
There were so many questions he had.
Such as why.
Why did he think Bruce would even leave the Joker alive? Especially considering how- before the warehouse exploded into flames- Bruce literally kicked down the door with rage in his eyes and a gun in his hand.
How-after the warehouse went up in flames- Bruce grabbed his body and held him close to his chest and they both screamed and cried in relief because he was alive and breathing and the Joker was unconscious and bleeding from his temple from where the building was collapsing around them.
How- on the way back to Gotham- Bruce kept calling the Manor to talk to Alfred and see if either could reach any of their family-
Alfred almost reached everyone.
Bruce was the one who actually contacted everyone.
Dick with the Titans who had been trying to undo a power outage that killed their communications.
Tim in Drake Manor who was trying to find where his biological parents were before he straight-up sprinted to Wayne Manor.
Babs in her father’s apartment who literally walked right into Cassandra who was on the streets, lost because she didn’t know where the library was.
Steph walking down the street as Tim grabbed her hand and they both ran to Wayne Manor.
Duke with his parents as he leaned against the wall trying to breathe.
Damian with Talia and they were both running from Ra’s.
Bruce contacted everyone and asked Alfred to take everyone to the hospital once they arrived home and when they were home and Jason was taken to the ER, he saw his family run to Bruce, mouths filled with questions that just weren’t safe for public eyes and ears-
Jason blinked and the anesthesia had worn off.
But Bruce-
But his family was still there, sleeping on chairs and tables as they waited for Jason to wake up.
His family was there.
For him.
He was alive.
How can he explain that to the interviewers lying in wait outside the hospital? To the people of Gotham and around the world that had no idea what just happened in Ethiopia? He was alive. Jason was alive and breathing and able to think clearly about things, not be consumed by his anger and trauma and rage because he died and the Joker lived.
Jason was alive.
And the Joker was going to die.
Not by his hand. Not by Bruce’s or Dick’s or Tim’s or Babs’s or Damian’s or Cass’s or Steph’s or Duke’s hand.
Not by Clark’s hand either.
But by the hand of the newly-reinstated New Jersey death penalty.
The knock on the door snapped Jason out of his thoughts and Bruce reached across the space, squeezing his hand in clear support and comfort. “Are you ready, Jaylad?”
Jason sighed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
XXX
“And that’s what happened.” Jason said quietly, once again tapping his hands on his leg.
He tuned out the rest of the conversation and was vaguely aware of other questions being thrown his way and answered them as best he could.
Gordon smiled and thanked them both, before reaching out and turning off the recorder. He immediately leaned back in his seat and sighed.
“Now.” He said quietly, looking directly at Jason. “What really happened in the warehouse?”
Jason looked at his hands for a moment, then sighed. He looked up at the Commissioner, opened his right hand, and willed the heat and stored energy in his body to his palm. The two men watched in clear disbelief and awe as a ball of orange fire flickered into view, burning brightly in the white hospital room.
Gordon’s eyes widened, but Jason spoke first.
“This happened.” He said as calmly as he could manage.
“I’m a meta, Commissioner.”