Rolling On The Floor - Blog Posts

Jason and Bruce had an intense fight, which somehow led to an even more intense heart-to-heart

——

Jason: … *feeling awkward since he spilled his guts on how Willis still affects him*

Bruce: … *wringing his hands* I called Alfred Dad once… when I was younger…

Jason: *turns to Bruce* ?

Jason: I mean… yeah? Isn’t he basically your Dad and everything?

Bruce: *chuckles softly* Yeah, now. But definitely not back then.

Bruce: He got so… *closes eyes as he searches for the word* mad at me.

Jason: *in disbelief* Mad??? He got mad??

Bruce: Maybe that’s not the right word, but that's what it felt like. He wouldn’t talk to me for two weeks. And even after, he was… distant.

Jason: That’s so fucking cruel! Why would Alfred…? *Jason scowls but relaxes slightly as Bruce throws an arm over his shoulder and snuggles with him*

Bruce: I wasn’t allowed to go outside yet. It was still too fresh from my parents' death, and being swarmed by the media would be… bad. I was stuck alone in the manor with the only person I could talk to giving me the worst silent treatment of my life.

Bruce: Honestly, some of the things I had to go through in my childhood... I don't know why Alfred did the things that he did, or why I had to go through it. But... it happened.

——

Bruce can feel Jason get angry before he can see or hear it. He can feel how his son’s body tenses up, as if he were moments away from jumping off the couch and storming the manor to search for the old butler.

Bruce squeezed him closer and ran his fingers through Jason’s hair, wincing as he snagged a few unbrushed knots in the tangled mess.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Bruce murmured, unable to suppress the small smile that crept up on his face from the grunt Jason let out, incredibly reminiscent of when Jason was barely up to his waist.

“It’s not,” Jason argued, turning slightly and pushing his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck. “It’s not. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bruce knows that Jason doesn’t mean the questions to sound like accusations, but he winces at the tone anyway. None of his kids can handle being left out of information, even if Bruce deemed it unimportant, like his history with Alfred.

“Alfred was put in a very… difficult position,” Bruce said slowly, tugging gently on one of Jason’s curls. “I’m surprised he kept me. I’m not the easiest person to take care of. You know how I am.”

“That shouldn’t matter if you’re a child.” Jason snapped. “It didn’t matter for you when it was me!” Jason huffed, then paused. “Right? It didn’t matter, did it?”

“I’d go back a trillion and one times to take care of you over and over again. You and all of your siblings.” Bruce chuckled. “But… I wanted you. Wanted all of you. I had a choice. I… I took that away from Alfred.”

Jason grimaces and squeezes Bruce’s hand, pulling his Dad away from the dark thoughts he was bound to fall into.

“Alfred was forced to take care of a traumatized problem child when he only signed up to be a butler. He most likely figured that my parents would shift my custody over to another branch of the family if it came down to it.” Bruce’s fingers twitched with the urge to scratch at his skin, give him something to control, unlike his emotions. “He wasn’t prepared. Who would want to take care of their dead employers' child?”

“But-“

“Alfred is only human, Jay, even if he acts like he’s not,” Bruce said firmly, tilting Jason’s head so he could look into his son’s beautiful green eyes, filled with the determination and need to defend his Dad. “I forgive him. For every mistake that he’s ever made. For all the mistakes he will continue to make. I… I love him, nothing will change that.”

Jason was silent, staring off into the distance as Bruce continued to play with his hair. He turned over what Bruce said in his mind. He could tell that Bruce still hadn’t told him everything, and maybe he never would.

“I forgive you, too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“… yeah. I know.”

a friend?