Saving Grace: a Batman fanfiction

Chapter 12

She was somewhat calmed down by the time they reached his apartment-- she’d never been in it, she realized-- but she was still hiccuping and her breathing was still hitching erratically. 

“Did you know?” she demanded tearfully as he unlocked the door roughly.

“No,” he said in a gruff voice, “but I should’ve. It was weird, the way it happened.”

“Also--” she said, before taking in a deep breath, “Dick knows that I kissed him back and now--” but that was as far as she got before bursting into tears again. Jason lead her over to the couch, eyebrows up his forehead.

“You kissed Dick?!” he said, sounding strangely delighted. “Knew you guys were going to happen.” Grace scoffed through her tears.

“No, we’re never going to happen,” she said, scrubbing her face with her sleeve. “He hates me, he thinks I’m a freak and he thinks I’m too young for him and he’d never think about me that way and-- and he and Barbara think it’s funny.” This admission brought on another round of waterworks, and Jason threw her one of his old t-shirts to use to dry her tears. “I’m sorry,” she choked, “for crying so much.”

Jason shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. And you have a reason.” He sat down on the couch next to her and pulled up a movie on the TV. “I heard you were going through my Jane Austen books real fast,” he said, sounding almost proud. “Ever seen the Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice movie?”

Grace shook her head no and he put it on, and they sat together watching the movie in mostly silence save for Grace’s stray hiccups here and there. 

After the movie, Jason turned to Grace.

“He does care about you.” And somehow she knew he was talking about Bruce, not Dick. “I knew he would from the moment he mentioned getting a foster kid. He said it would be temporary, but even back then, he didn’t really believe it. He knew he would get attached to you, whoever you turned out to be.”

“He didn’t want a foster kid,” said Grace, eyes welling up. “It was just for his reputation.”

“I know Bruce,” said Jason confidently. “A part of him did want a foster kid, or he never would have agreed to do it in the first place. And at first, he told us it would just be for a month or two. You’ve been around for five, almost six now. He wants you, Grace. He wants you to stay.”

Grace just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. 

"I shouldn't have ever--" but she stopped abruptly and just shook her head miserably.

"You shouldn't have what?" Jason's voice was sharp, irritated. "Nothing was your fault."

"No. I shouldn't have stopped being scared," Grace hissed shakily, and then whipped away from Jason and slammed his own bedroom door in his face.

She collapsed onto Jason's bed, burying her face in his pillow to muffle her sobs.

Jason, Jason stood stiffly in front of his room door, pained. Fear. Fear was her weakness; it afflicted her immensely. It was her enemy and it was her shield.

He understood her, then. All the times she was mean. Why everyone called her a Regina George. Her arrogance and rudeness. She was just scared.

She was always scared.

"Thanks for letting me stay," said Grace, eyes red when she emerged from Jason's room in the morning.

"Sure," said Jason gruffly, standing at the stove, making French toast. "Dick wants to see you."

"No," said Grace immediately. "No."

"You should talk to him."

"And you should talk to Bruce," scoffed Grace, and even though Jason rolled his eyes he didn't push the matter.

"So should you," he muttered under his breath. Grace shot him a withering glare;

"We could start a club."

Shockingly, Jason's French toast was delicious. Like really, really good. Not only passable; it surpassed Grace's every expectation and beyond to even her wildest dreams.

"Like it?" Jason smirked, and Grace slowed her attack on her plate, flushing.

"You can cook," she said, voice somewhat awed. "Like, really, you can really cook."

"Alright, don't talk and stuff your face with my toast at the same time," said Jason, but she could tell he was a little proud. "Don't need you to choke and then Bruce will blame me for trying to kill another--" he stopped abruptly, and Grace's eyes widened.

"Kill?" She echoed in disbelief. She knew Jason was the black sheep of the family, but a murderer?

"It was just Damian," said Jason defensively, "and he started it."

Grace giggled at the classic sibling phrase and then stopped, remembering that she had nothing to giggle about.

"I can't stay with you, you know." Jason looked into his French toast.

"You could. If you wanted to."

"Not legally." 

She liked staying with Jason. They both liked period pieces and classic literature, and peaceful quietness.

But it wasn't a solution to her problems. "I'm going to have to. Go back." Grace said, voice strained. "I don't want to stay with Bruce and I don't want to see Dick. It's best."

"You shouldn't have to," said Jason, his familiar anger rising to the surface.

"I want to," Grace pushed. "I can't live with Bruce anymore and I'm not old enough to be out of the system. One more year in a foster home or back at the group home. Then I'm free."

"If that's what you want, I can't stop you," said Jason darkly. "But you should know-- the first time the old man mentioned you to me, he said 'it's only temporary,' in this voice like he was trying to convince himself. And I nodded, played along. But we both knew he was kidding himself, and he hadn't even met you yet. He wanted another member of the family and you're it. He cares about you."

"Stop," said Grace, only a little angry, because she knew he was partially right. "What do you know about getting along with Bruce." Jason shrugged, brushing off the slight insult.

"You're deflecting."

"So?"

"So, want to watch the new Emma?"

"Emma's my favourite."

Grace spent a few nice days with Jason before she called a cab and told them to take her back to the group home. 

"I'll visit sometimes," she told Jason as she clambered into the backseat with Ted. (Jason had snuck back into the manor to grab him for her, even though she hadn't asked.)

"Do that," he agreed, fists jammed into his pockets, a frown on his face. "Good luck, and if you need anything, call me."

"Okay," said Grace from the backseat of the cab before it pulled away from the curb. She twisted around in her seat to watch Jason's form disappear through the back windshield.

She sunk low in her seat when the cab drove by Wayne manor.