The Winchesters' New Protege

Written in Scars.

The moment that Jason stepped into the room, he could feel the stares boring into him. He's yet to catch any of them actually staring at him, but he can feel it. It's almost painful.

Bruce, Dick, and Tim – oddly enough – are the ones that Jason suspects. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Barbara lean around Dick to look at him every so often, but her gaze never lasts more than a few seconds. Damian hasn't so much as given Jason a second look, which he is actually thankful for.

As much as it makes his skin scrawl, he can't blame them for staring. The last time that any of them would have seen him was at his funeral – until he appeared out of nowhere, saved Bruce from a werewolf (not that Bruce actually knew that) and then dragged him through the front doors of the manor covered in blood.

Jason isn't sure where he and Bruce stand now. They'd been very close before Jason died.

When Jason first arrived at the manor, he was so jaded and cynical and so, so mistrustful that Bruce wasn't sure what to do. He reminded Bruce uncomfortably of himself at that age.

Maybe that was why Bruce couldn't ever imagine himself giving up on Jason. No matter how hard it had been.

It wasn't Jason's fault. Bruce barely managed to raise a child who'd had a good home life. Jason was already more traumatised than any child ought to be.

He didn't know how to talk to a child who flinched whenever he moved too sharply or spoke too loudly. Jason was already waiting for the other shoe to drop – already waiting for a reason to bolt – and Bruce was terrified.

Getting Jason to trust him was a painstakingly slow process. But Bruce was willing to wait. Jason was a good kid and he deserved a good life. Bruce was willing to wait.

Jason was a better son than Bruce thought he deserved. He was thoughtful and compassionate in ways that Bruce hadn't expected. And there was nothing that warmed his heart more than watching Jason talk about something he loved.

He had some old videos of Jason reciting Shakespeare. If he remembered correctly, Jason had a morbid fascination with Macbeth and always made Bruce read Lady Macbeth's lines. There were also a few audio clips of Jason mumbling to himself on patrol – something from 'Alive in Wonderland' about caucus races and mock turtles.

Jason was a good kid and he deserved a good life. The wait had, decidedly, been worth it.

And then Jason had gone missing.

Bruce was at work and it was the one day of the year that Alfred took off. Bruce came home to an empty manor and a carefully written note.

Dad,

I'm sorry that I couldn't say goodbye in person, but you'd try to stop me. This is something that I need to do. Don't worry, though. I'm sure that you can handle patrols on your own for a week.

Love,

Jay.

Jason was a good kid and Bruce trusted him, so he waited. He waited for seven days – dutifully, patiently, like a father waiting for his son to come back from war. But Jason didn't come back.

On the night of the seventh day, Bruce stayed up until sunlight poured in through the net curtains of the front room. He lingered, watching the door and waiting for his son to come home. When the sun completely rose over the horizon, he went to the liquor cabinet and emptied a bottle.

Alfred found him, pacing and on the verge of tears. He coaxed Bruce's glass out of his hand and sent him to bed, and then left to make some phone calls. Jason was likely already back in Gotham, and was certainly wandering around, reminiscing – which he did concerningly often for a thirteen-year-old.

Within half an hour, Barbara, Commissioner Gordon, Selina, and Lucius Fox out looking for him. He stepped back into Bruce's room, only to fine Bruce drunkenly trying to dress himself. Alfred led him back to bed, which he did quite easily, with nought but a few slurred protests.

Although he was certain that, by the time that he got back, Bruce would be up again, Alfred left in order to search for Jason too. It was almost dark by the time that he arrived back at the manor, and, obviously, Bruce wasn't where Alfred had left him.

He'd, somehow, managed to stumble down to the cave and pull on most of the batsuit. Up on the computer, Bruce had a large photo of a blonde woman and several crooked scans of Jason's notes. As Alfred had later found out, that woman was Sheila Haywood – Jason's biological mother.

Apparently, she was doing aid work in Ethiopia and, Jason, obviously excited at the prospect of having a living relative, leapt on the first plane that he could to meet her.

He'd also managed to track Jason's phone. It was still in Ethiopia.

Bruce was much less worried at this. Jason probably just decided to stay a little longer. Yeah, that was it. Jason was a smart kid, and he could take care of himself. He was fine.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to check up on him. The next day (after Bruce sobered up slightly more), he paid a visit to Ethiopia. He went to where Sheila was supposed to be working and the manager told him that a kid matching Jason's description had visited Sheila about a week ago, but he hadn't seen either since.

There had also been something else.

A day or two before Jason showed up, someone else had visited Sheila. A pale man in a purple, pinstriped suit with a haunting smile. Bruce would never forget how sick he felt.

The Joker was in Ethiopia and he had Jason.

For the next two weeks, Bruce spent every ounce of energy searching for Jason. He had every member of the Justice League scouring the country to find his son. Eventually, they managed to track him down to an abandoned warehouse.

The building went up in flames, moments before Bruce could get inside. He furiously dug through the rubble and found Sheila – bloody and dying.

"I'm sorry," she said, and it wasn't until much later that he'd figured out why. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think that... Jason. He wanted Jason. He said that he'd kill me if I didn't. I- Jason tried to... He wouldn't leave without me. I'm so sorry."

Her eyes flickered shut and she died in his arms. Then Bruce dug Jason's lifeless body out of the burning debris. Something changed in him, as he looked at Jason, limp and bloody.

His son was dead. It was too late.

To his left, Barbara says something to Jason. He grins and replies, standing up. Bruce's eyes follow him as he and Barbara leave.

He'd lost Jason once. He isn't going to lose him again.