Allow me to point you to a press release that we at SHIELD have released on his behalf.

I am more than willing to give you the means to contact him, should he wish to do so in return, though I will give you notice that he may not wish to do so immediately, as the past few days of re-connecting with family and friends alike have been a bit - stressful for him. Though, it is up to him to decide in the long run, in all honesty.

I will attempt to answer any questions that you may have.

Natalia Romanova Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. SHRA: Black Widow 

He felt sick.

Sick, angry, elated, disgusted, afraid. He felt a little bit of everything, but at the forefront he was sick. Everything was starting to take on a surreal feel, though if that was because of the news or the fact that he didn't remember the last time he'd actually eaten something other than a few sips of coffee, he wasn't sure. All he did know was that Jason was alive. A part of SHIELD.

And hadn't contacted him.

For a moment his anger sparked a little hotter as he reread the line about the life model decoy. He'd buried a damn doll. Cried over that grave. Prayed over it. Cursed. Begged. In a way he'd gotten his wish--Jason was alive after all--but at what price? The man had been unstable in his second life, so what would he be like in his third? In a way, Bruce was afraid to find out.

But find out he must, and even as his fingers shook, he wrote out his response.

If Jason truly wishes to contact me, he knows any and every possible way to do so. I understand that the relationship between he and I was strained at best, especially toward the end, however I want him to know that I would welcome any word from him, even if it is just that--a word.

I do have one question that I hope you can answer for me. How stable is he since his return? The events that led to his prior resurrection left him on edge and unstable, which put him on track toward his attempt on his own life on more than one occasion. I just hope that what you have done has not put him in that state of mind once again.

It had been a while since Bruce had allowed himself time to think about Jason. No, that was a lie. There wasn't a moment that his former Robin wasn't in the forefront of his mind, muddling his thoughts, making work nearly impossible. Life had become a world of black and white, soundless, colorless, nothing of it left to keep Bruce's interest. He was a man without a mission, a strange thing for one that had made it his entire purpose to be that single Mission.

Already a recluse on the best of days, Bruce hadn't been seen topside in Gotham since the "incident", instead sticking to simply Batman and nothing else. Alfred did his best to make sure the man ate and slept, but there was only so much the butler could do with the broken shards that once had been Bruce Wayne.

This message had come in one of his moments of solitary melancholy, having taken a little time to get out of the Batcave, having almost forgotten what sunlight was anymore. The moment the SHIELD emblem flashed in the corner of his screen, there seemed to be a spark of life in Bruce as he pulled the half burned out cigarette from his lips, the smoke ghosting around him like a bitter memory.

Opening the message, Bruce read over the short lines, dark blue eyes scanning each letter as if they were clues to some new mystery. What would SHIELD want with him? With Jason? Turning over the concept in his mind, Bruce leaned back in his chair, ignoring the soft squeak it made in protest as he snubbed out his cigarette in the almost full ash tray at the corner of his desk. There was only one way to really find out what they wanted--and that was to reply.

Then Nat it is. 

Can't say I ever met anyone named Barton or any troupes that went by that, but I haven't been with a team in years and the last time I preformed for real without using it to tease the Flash I was in my very early 20s. And I left the Flying Jesses before that. 

It does seem to be a trend, hmm? In the Rogues alone we've got two I know of that did stints under the big top. 

Makes me wonder if any of our groups ran into each other during travels. Wouldn't that be odd? I've got some tiny superhero as a rival troupe before we even put on the armored tights. 

The original Trickster at your disservice. James Jesse.