The Effort of Family

The Future Never Looked so Bleak

CW: Discussions of financial hardships and poverty, mentions of blood, and Wayne Family Disfunction™️

A/N: Please be aware that Jason is an unreliable narrator. He often misinterprets his family's intentions and motivations due to everyone's inability to communicate. Please take his pov with a grain of salt ♥️

Jason and Stephanie arrived back at the manor at just the wrong time. Dinner. There was no way Alfred would let him get out of the family meal. The door opened just as Steph reached for the ornate handle. Alfred. The butler greeted them both warmly.

"Your usual seats have been set, and I've put aside plates for the both of you," he said.

"Jason didn't want to be there, but he was always grateful for the care and consideration that Alfred put into everything."

"Thanks, Alf," Jason responded, trying to disguise the awkwardness he still felt. Alfred just nodded and ushered them both through the door. He raised an eyebrow at the cookie tin in Jason's hand, but said nothing.

He had to keep himself from cringing away at the scene in the dining room. It was loud and chaotic until they walked in. Alfred pulled out Steph's chair, and, despite her exhaustion, she joined the table with her usual snark. Jason took his own seat and avoided meeting anyone's eye. He hadn't bothered to take a headcount of which Waynes and Co were present; if he was lucky, they'd continue on like he wasn't there.

Oh, if wishes were horses.

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly. Jason rolled his eyes and took a bite of the pot roast Alfie had dished out for him. From the corner of his eye he saw Duke shrug and go back to eating, content to leave Jason in peace. He was the only one.

Damian gave a bemused huff, and leaned forward. "Care to explain why you and Brown spent the day in New York," the boy asked, "and why her clothes are bloodied?" Damn it. Jason had forgotten to remind Stephanie to put her jacket back on. He had to stop himself from looking at the soiled red of her sleeves.

"How d'ya know we went to New York?" Jason asked accusingly. He met Damian's eyes in a challenge, before realizing his mistake. Rising to the bait was exactly what the little bird had wanted.

"Father keeps trackers in all of his vehicles," Damian responded matter of factly. He held Jason's gaze, committed to his interrogation.

Bruce opened his mouth, likely to scold his youngest for accessing the trackers without permission, but Jason didn't intend to let the old man get a word in. "'S none of your business what we were doin'," He insisted, waiting for Stephanie to back him up. If he'd broken his impromptu staring contest with Damian, he'd have seen her smug grin. She didn't offer any backup.

"I'm sure the entire family has noticed your secrecy as of late. I know I have," the boy continued haughtily. "You can't expect-"

"Leave it alone," Dick cut in. Jason took great pleasure in the shocked affront that stole onto the little demon's face. Damian broke eye contact to argue with their eldest brother, and Jason assumed he was in the clear.

"Actually," Tim cut in, "I also find myself terribly curious as to what Jason's been up to. The younger detective turned to him. Jason was well aware of the look on his face, it was familiar among Gotham's vigilantes. It said 'spill your guts, or I'll drag all of your secrets into the open if it's the last thing I do.' Yes, Jason knew the look well.

Tim took the opportunity to continue speaking. "I've held off performing my own investigation, but I think it's time you fill us in." This was the real Wayne family. All pretense of respect, privacy, and camaraderie had been abandoned. Jason had no doubt that each of them would do their own digging, if they hadn't already begun, and he didn't want them to draw their own conclusions as well. This time, Jason would control the narrative.