Viva la Pluto

The first time it happens, Jason doesn’t really think much of it. Chalk it up to Bruce being Bruce, really. If anything, he’s relieved — and not a little proud, if he’s being honest — that his father Bruce is accepting enough of Roy’s presence in Jason’s life to ask the man to repair the Batcave’s Zeta-tube when it starts acting up.

Sure, the family dinner last Friday went well enough, although Jason wouldn’t have bet Black Mask’s money on it. But there came a point where the inevitable had to happen.

After all, there were only so many excuses Jason could come up with before it became obvious he was actively trying to avoid having Roy and his family cross paths. And with Roy’s self-esteem being what it is — despite both Jason and Lian’s best efforts — Jason knew the man would have taken the realization personally, when, really, it’s certainly not Roy Jason is ashamed of. Best to cave in and agree to one appearance at dinner before it came to that point. Not that Jason was a recurring feature at those, even before Roy and Lian moved to Gotham a few months ago.

In any case, the dinner had been a blast.

Roy already knew most of his family, albeit mostly in a professional manner, so to speak, but the real ace in Jason’s sleeve had always been Lian. The girl had the charm of both her parents and knew exactly how to work it — Jason is man enough to admit it, being her most usual victim himself. She had the entirety of Jason’s family wrapped around her finger before they’d even finished the appetizers.

Upon seeing how his daughter had wriggled her way into the Waynes without any apparent effort, Roy had tentatively tried a few "grandfather" jokes at Bruce’s expense, to which the man had either ignored him or replied with a grunt.

And really, that alone should have been Jason’s first red flag.

So here are the three of them, the next Sunday evening — because it would snow in hell before Jason let Roy anywhere near his father Bruce without him being present at all times, family dinner experience notwithstanding. Of course Lian came too.

In the Batcave, Bruce is entertaining Lian while Roy works his magic on the Cave’s Zeta, Jason happily playing assistant.

Jason sees Roy’s frown and how it deepens the longer he spends on the Zeta’s opened-up panels, but doesn’t really register it at first.

Until Roy speaks up.

"What did you say the problem was, again?" he asks prudently, turning to where Bruce is showing Lian how to make the giant dinosaur move.

"It’s acting up," Bruce answers without even turning back, Lian taking all his attention.

Jason cringes at his old man Bruce’s apparent lack of manners, but Roy knows enough of the man, from both their multiple encounters over the years as well as Oliver and Jason’s rants about him, not to let it faze him.

"Hm, hm."

Bruce finally turns back and fixes him with a stare so neutral it actually registers as aggressive.

Jason braces for the lecture and disappointment he was dreading — he was a fool to think the dinner was the real threat, of course this is where it all goes to shit — but Roy only stares in silent.

Bruce blinks.

Once.

Jason stops breathing, mentally checking the exits and the nearest weapons.

A few seconds pass, both men standing their ground through unblinking stares and rigid postures, until Roy’s face finally breaks into a wide smirk.

"Oh, of course, I see."

Bruce doesn’t move, so Jason isn’t naive enough to think the threat is over, but Roy turns back to the Zeta without hesitation.

"Let me reinitialize it. It should do the trick."

Bruce only grunts and turns back to Lian without a word.

Bewildered, Jason tries to get Roy’s attention, but the other man is only smiling at the Zeta’s mechanics and going through the motions with ease. It doesn’t take him long to finish, and he closes the panels while laughing softly to himself.

It’s Bruce’s cue to invite them to stay for dinner, the time being what it is and Lian needing regular eating habits.

(And there it is. The passive-aggressive comment Jason had been waiting for all evening. How messed up is it that he actually feels more at ease afterward?)

Roy looks at him before answering, but Jason is too busy internally chewing on his father’s comment to react.

Roy accepts easily enough — and it’s not like Jason is one to turn down Alfred’s food anyway — and the deal is done before Jason realizes it.

Well, he survived one dinner with this entire family already, and it’s not like it’s going to become a regular occurrence anyway. He’d been very clear when relenting to Dick’s bullying that the dinner thing was a one-time-only happenstance.

So yeah.

Jason doesn’t think much of it.

The first time, at least.

***

The second time, he’s ashamed to admit, but at first, he thought Roy fucked up.

Look, Occam’s razor is a thing.

So what’s the most probable reason for Bruce calling him again? That the Cave’s Zeta broke twice in a fortnight, or that Roy missed something the last time they were there?

How was he supposed to think it might be something else entirely?

So yeah, at first he’s a little wary when he asks Roy if he thinks he can swing back by the Cave to have a look at the Zeta.

Roy only looks up from the table where he’s tinkering with his latest project when Jason repeats himself for the third time, stumbling over his words in a very un-Red-Hood-like manner.

"Look, you know you don’t have to, right?" he insists, because Bruce has managed to service his own damn teleporter for the better part of three decades before Roy happened to be conveniently on hand by living within the city limits, so it’s not like Roy is Bruce’s last resort or anything like that.

Come to think of it, Jason doesn’t really understand why his father Bruce needs Roy of all people to repair the Zeta-tube.

Unless Roy somehow fucked it up worse.

Bruce said it was acting up last time. What if it’s not working at all now? What if Bruce knows it, and only called Jason to bury the scent and have Roy come to the Cave alone and—

Jason starts spiraling after that and proclaims that they’re coming with him.

Somehow, Roy’s only answer is, "I wouldn’t risk Batman’s wrath by coming on my own anyway, don’t you worry, Jaybird," which doesn’t really make sense unless Roy fucked the Zeta on purpose, which…

Yeah.

Jason is definitely spiraling.

It only gets marginally better when they arrive at the Manor and Alfred steers them to the dining room first, firmly stating that nobody is skipping mealtime in favor of some maintenance business on a tube that most of the Justice League is forbidden to use anyway.

And Bruce actually lets him.

When Jason tries to convey his surprise to Roy through looks and eyebrows, the other man only smiles at him.

Which is not as reassuring as Roy seems to think it is.

So they eat Alfred’s meal first, during which Jason endures his siblings’ presence and running commentary on his life choices in silence. At this point, he fully expects to have to mediate an argument about the Zeta at some point, so he’s willing to save as much of his father Bruce’s goodwill as possible.

But soon enough, the meal is over, coffee served and drunk, and the only thing that comes out of Bruce’s mouth is an offer to show Lian the gardens, since the weather is so nice today.

Jason blue-screens for a minute, reboots, and finds himself faced with an impossible choice.

Follow Lian and make small talk with his old man Bruce for however long it takes Roy to fix the tube, thus leaving Roy to fend for himself among the menagerie Bruce calls his children these days?

Or follow Roy to run interference on any indiscreet questions — and absolutely none of their business — his siblings might throw at Roy, knowing there’s a real risk Lian might have a trust fund, real estate, and an vintage car to her name before they get home?

At this point, his only hope really is Roy insisting on keeping Lian in sight.

Alas, the man seems utterly unaffected by the gravity of the situation, and only checks with Lian whether she wants to see the aforementioned gardens — like Lian doesn’t know that the gardens come with the promise of Alfred’s baking and the chance to get the full attention of several adults for an unknown amount of time, without having to finish her chores and schoolwork first.

The kid is seven, for Christ’s sake, not stupid.

In the end, all it takes is Dick’s pointed comment about how he and Roy used to tell each other everything when they were Titans together for Jason to claw his way out of his chasm of indecision, drag Roy toward the grandfather clock hiding the Cave’s entrance, and tell Dick to shut up, blushing furiously the whole way.

Bruce even has the audacity to tell them to take their time.

Traitor that he is.

***

The third time, though?

By the third time he gets a call about the faulty Zeta, Jason is fully aware that something is up.

He doesn’t know what exactly — not yet, at least — but he knows, okay?

Unfortunately, Roy is not helping.

When Jason turns to him to say that Bruce is requesting they come fix the Zeta — again — and that something is definitely up with the man, Roy just laughs in his face.

Which.

With the life they live, Jason feels compelled to be careful, especially when Lian is involved. Roy’s behavior doesn’t carry the amount of caution Jason thinks the situation requires.

"It’s nothing that nefarious, Jaybird."

Roy dismisses his concerns with way too much ease — even the doppelganger hypothesis, though that one stays at the top of Jason’s list no matter how many reassurances Roy pushes at him in the car.

Jason knows something is up, and he fully plans to get to the bottom of it this time.

So this time, he’s in full detective mode when he gets out of the car with Roy and Lian in tow.

And oh, boy — now that he’s actually looking for it, does he find damning evidence everywhere he looks.

The first clue is the presence, once again, of his siblings.

All of them.

Including Dick, who, last Jason checked — meaning the last time his older brother barged into their apartment without warning for mandatory bonding time or whatever he’s calling it these days — still lives in Blüdhaven.

Once could’ve been luck. Twice might have been a coincidence.

But thrice in a row?

Not a chance.

The second clue is the timing.

Jason surreptitiously checks his watch, and yep.

Dinnertime, once again.

So either the Zeta-tube conveniently only breaks around mealtime, or…

…or someone is actually waiting for the right time to call for help.

And by someone, Jason means his adoptive father, in case that wasn’t clear.

But why?

Come to think of it, why would Bruce even need Roy’s help to fix the Zeta-tube in the first place, especially if the repair doesn’t even fix anything to begin with?

Jason was right on the nose the second time his old man called: Bruce has been maintaining that thing on his own for decades. Whatever’s wrong with it, he definitely knows what it is and how to solve it.

Bruce doesn’t need Roy here.

He especially doesn’t need Jason and Lian either.

The realization has Jason reeling, and only years of vigilance and working with Roy keep him from crashing into the other man.

Eyes wild, he points an accusing finger.

"You knew," he whispers furiously.

Roy, that bastard, smirks when he answers. "I kind of figured it out the first time, Jaybird."

"You didn’t say anything!" Jason pushes as they make their way to the Manor’s entrance, keeping his voice down so as not to agitate Lian.

Roy shrugs, clearly unbothered by Jason’s turmoil. "To be fair, I thought it was obvious enough for you to catch it."

"Well, it wasn’t."

Jason is outraged.

Such treachery he could have expected from his siblings, but from Roy?

"Jaybird, it’s not like it’s a big deal," Roy placates him. "When you think about it, it’s actually kind of funny," he adds as an afterthought. "And it’s exactly what you and Oliver always described — Bruce’s emotional constipation issues, live and in action."

"It’s manipulation," Jason retorts, agitated by conflicting emotions — among them, shame at not having seen through Bruce when Roy had, and at having devoted so long to conspiracy theories that, in hindsight, were maybe a little over the top.

Roy snorts. "It’s childish, if you want to call it that. But most of all, it’s ridiculous that Bruce still thinks he has to go to these kinds of lengths to get us over for dinner, instead of just asking, like any emotionally mature parent out there."

It is, though?

Jason mulls it over as they make their way across the Cave, where Lian shrieks with laughter as Dick spins her around.

Ridiculous that his family thinks he’s so opposed to spending time with them that they’d manufacture a reason for Roy to come to the Manor, just to guarantee Jason’s presence — and Lian’s with him?

Or has Jason repeatedly given them good reason to think that, so worried about facing their reaction to Roy and Lian’s presence in his life that he fell into overprotective mode when, obviously…

…he looks at Lian, perched on Bruce’s shoulders while in full Batman regalia, solemnly directing Titus to sit.

Yeah.

He might have overreacted a little about it.

He waits until Roy is fully engrossed in the Zeta — what he actually does in there every time is anybody’s guess, Jason’s included — to walk over to his father.

"You’re not fooling anybody, old man," he says, with a not-so-little dose of hypocrisy. "This is the third time this week the Batcave’s Zeta-tube needed repairs."

"Hn."

"You know you can just call and ask to come to dinner, right?" Jason insists. Because if he’s going to be forced to confront his emotions about his family, he sure as hell is going to make sure he’s not the only one.

Bruce looks straight at him.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Sure you don’t," Jason answers with a smirk.

Bruce doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty about it. He just goes back to watching Lian try to convince Titus that he would like to wear a tutu, thank you very much.

Jason should let it go.

He means to let it go.

He doesn’t let it go.

"So what’s the plan?" he says instead, dropping into the seat next to his father with the kind of casualness that fools absolutely nobody, least of all Bruce. "Zeta’s gonna short-circuit next week, I’m guessing? Maybe catch fire this time, really sell it?"

"Hn."

"Great talk, as always."

Jason steals a grape off the tray Alfred left within arm’s reach — a mistake, he realizes half a second too late, because Alfred materializes out of literal nowhere to swat his hand for it.

Some things never change.

"You know there are easier ways to get people to show up for dinner, right? Most parents just, I don’t know. Ask."

"Would you have come," Bruce says, "if I’d asked?"

And there it is.

Jason opens his mouth to argue — he’s got a whole speech ready, something about respecting people’s time and boundaries and not needing to fake mechanical failures like some kind of Bat-themed soap opera plot — and then he actually thinks about the question.

Would he have come?

Two months ago, maybe not.

Two months ago, he’d have found some excuse, same as he did for weeks before that first dinner.

Not because he didn’t want to see them.

Because wanting to see them meant admitting how much it would hurt if it went wrong — if Roy said the wrong thing, if Lian picked up on some old tension nobody had bothered to explain to a seven-year-old, if his family looked at the life he’d built for himself and found it wanting somehow.

Easier not to ask.

Easier to let Bruce break a teleporter three times running than admit that, yeah, actually, he probably would’ve said no.

Jason doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to.

Bruce already knows, in that infuriating way he always does, and has the grace — or the self-preservation instinct — not to push it.

Jason drags a hand down his face, torn somewhere between horrified and — fine. Fine, a little fond.

"This family is insane. I want that on record."

"Noted."

Okay.

So maybe Jason actually gets it.

Maybe if the alternative to a broken teleporter was Bruce Wayne, billionaire and world’s greatest detective, cold-calling Jason his son to ask if he’d like to come to dinner with his partner and their kid…

…then maybe faking a malfunction three times in a row starts to look less unhinged and more like the only move a man with Bruce’s specific flavor of emotional constipation has available to him.

Doesn’t mean Jason’s going to let him off easy for it.

"Well," he says, standing. "Guess we’d better start scheduling regular maintenance rounds for this thing, instead of waiting for it to — what was it again?" he asks mockingly. "Act up, right? Might make it easier to plan our week if we know in advance when we’ll end up here anyway."

Something that might, on a more expressive man, be called a smile ghosts across Bruce’s face.

"It might be an interesting idea to look into, indeed."

He leaves Bruce to Lian’s ongoing Titus negotiations and makes his way over to Roy, who takes one look at his face and immediately looks suspicious.

"What."

"Nothing."

Jason loops an arm around his shoulders, like it’s not doing something to his whole chest to be allowed to do this in front of his entire family without flinching.

"Just already looking forward to next week’s completely unrelated Zeta malfunction."

Roy groans.

"Oh my god. He’s not gonna stop, is he?"

"Nope."

"And you’re just gonna let him."

Jason considers it — considers the whole ridiculous, over-engineered, thoroughly unnecessary lengths his father went to just to make sure Jason knew he was wanted at that table, every single week, without ever having to say so out loud.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I think I am."

Lian picks that exact moment to launch herself at both their legs, demanding a verdict on whether Titus should be wearing a red or blue tutu.

Jason scoops her up without missing a beat, already arguing the case for red — a much better match for his grey fur than blue, Dick’s strongly expressed opinion on the matter notwithstanding — while Roy laughs at them both and Bruce watches with something that isn’t quite a smile but isn’t far off, either.

Yeah.