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jason's been robin for a few months now. he doesn't like to admit it, but bruce has become vital to him. he's got a real father figure. but the problem is, and he absolutely hates himself for it- he's still on edge, waiting for bruce to make a move. why wouldn't he? it's not like adult men haven't pretended to care for him before, then taken advantage of him. except this time he actually has feelings for bruce, of affection and awe and gratitude, and these are mixed up with intrusive sexual thoughts, his bad experiences, teenage hormones and that self destructive streak he practically lives by.
what does he do about it? nothing. he vehemently dismisses any intrusive thought about bruce as soon as it enters his mind, and takes his frustration out on the criminals of gotham. he smokes and he rebels, he has banter with his mentor that secretly warms his heart but he never, ever lets bruce touch him.
injuries in their line of work are inevitable, of course. jason tries to play it down but he's hurt, badly, and bruce is not happy about it. his mentor wants to patch him up, but he will not allow it.
"do not touch me," jason says. his voice is quiet, but firm. there's a certain rush that comes from standing up for himself, for having the courage to say no.
"jason, you're hurt."
"and i can deal with it myself."
"you've broken bones. you need my help."
bruce steps closer. he thinks he's being reasonable but jason is having flashbacks, to a backstreet alley where someone who meant a whole lot less said the exact same. you need my help.
his mind is mixing between past and present, until he can't see anything but someone who wants what he can offer. and if he won't offer, they'll take, because he needs the money, because he needs a place to live, because the robin identity /cannot/ be taken away from him because that's all he's got now.
"please bruce I'll do it just don't- don't make me go back-"
"go back? what are you talking about?"
"im sorry. just- don't-" jason sinks to his knees. he wants to get this over with, closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see the ghost of the past or his mentor looking down on him. he shouldn't have trusted again. all of them, corrupt bastards, they were all the fucking same.
bruce has dropped down to his level and is trying to make eye contact. jason doesn't do eye contact. but he tries.
"talk to me, jason," says bruce wayne.
"I don't understand."
"i would never make you go back."
jason stutters. "so- so what do you /want/, then?" half of him is screaming oh my god he's- he wants more than you can possibly give, and the other half is going anything anything you need so long as I can stay with you. if it were possible to have more than two halves, another might be yelling about this being some sort of mental breakdown, and its true that the world feels very slow and sluggish right now.
"jason can you hear me?" bruce's voice breaks through the haze and there's a hand on his shoulder- digging in, pushing down, another curled tight in his hair rasping good boy good boy-
someone screams "don't fucking touch me" it's probably him but he doesn't remember moving his mouth to say it. he has stumbled back, fallen on fractured bone, crying in pain and confusion.
bruce is there, in a second, pulling him up and he fights back- "im not going to hurt you, just let me help, you're injured, we can talk about this-"
"all of you, all the fucking same, thought i could trust you but you're just like the rest of them you disgusting-" jason snarls, clawing bruce's arms like an animal. his whole body is shaking with rage, anger bubbling up and out, built up from all the times he'd just bit his lip and taken it. not this time.
bruce lets go. jason is panting. he slumps back down onto the floor, against the wall. he wants to close his eyes, but instead he fixes his gaze on bruce, who looks... quite stricken. he feels the anger bleeding away, pulsing hot as it leaves his veins, gotham backstreets fading into the deeper recesses of his mind for now as he catches his breath.
"i never want to hurt you," bruce whispers.
jason's mind hysterically supplies /but I prefer it when they do/ and he clamps his mouth shut before it can bubble out.
"or anything else you don't want," his mentor adds. christ all fucking mighty, batman has tears in his eyes. ah, shit.
"good to hear," jason mutters. he shifts to get up and damn that's painful but he's not going to let his pride get any more damaged.
"please let's talk about this."
"what is there to talk about? im sorry i assumed you wanted to fuck me. that's normally the case for me. let's just forget about it."
"but I can't," bruce answers, "and neither can you. im... im learning that some very bad things have happened to you. and-"
"they didn't happen to me. i did them. for money and food and shelter. sometimes i did it because i missed it. im not a victim, i just-"
"you just what?"
jason feels tears pricking at his eyes and the anger flooding back, but it's hopeless anger this time, the kind that drains you into an empty shell. he can't find an answer. his pride fragments one last time. he starts to cry, silent and with self directed hatred, avoiding the pitying stare he's no doubt being treated to.
"no one should ever be forced to do those things. especially a child."
jason folds his arms. he feels sick.
"but i want to help. i want you to know that i care about you and you're an incredible, talented boy that i admire very much and value as my partner."
"you think you can fix this by being nice?"
"i dont think i can fix it. but whatever you need, jay, im here."
jason takes a shuddering breath. his voice cracks when he says it. "i need you to fix it."
bruce makes a soft noise of distress and sympathy. he sighs, deep and bone-tired. "let me set your broken bones. give you stitches. you can shower, and i'll get alfred to make us some hot cocoa. we can sit and talk, or watch a movie, or whatever you want."
"im a fucking mess bruce i cant do this."
"you can."
he takes some deep breaths, and lets those words settle in his chest. you can. you can.
so he gives a minute nod, and thus his entire being over to bruce, trusts him in his most fragile state. he lets his bones be set and his wounds stitched. he tries not to flinch and he tries not to tense. he tries not to make the exhale so obvious when bruce is done, but this is the world's greatest detective, and nothing gets past him.
"all done," bruce smiles.
"i need the shower."
"okay."
before he leaves, bruce gives him a very hesitant, very light touch on the shoulder. jason turns away. he swallows, waits to hear bruce's footsteps then goes to immerse himself in hot water.
he enters the living room a few minutes later, pajama pants and one of bruce's old shirts. bruce grins, which he doesn't do a lot, and it's painfully good to see.
"i wanna watch a horror film," jason announces, taking a sip from the proffered hot cocoa. bruce raises an eyebrow.
"are you sure that's-"
"ive been knifed by worse looking things than any horror film could throw at me," he replies dryly.
"jason, you're fourteen-"
"find me your best, bruce, or i won't say what im about to say, which, by the way, is something you'll never hear again."
intrigued, bruce reaches for his stack of dvds. after a minute or so, he pulls out three and holds them up for robin's approval.
the exorcist, the omen, and the shining.
"the shining isn't a horror film," jason remarks disdainfully. "the exorcist, i think."
"i can't believe im doing this," bruce mumbles, putting in the disc.
"but you can believe you run around in cape and costume on a rooftop every night with your child sidekick."
bruce smirks. jason sits beside him.
"what were you going to say?" bruce asks.
jason keeps his eyes on the tv, taking a mouthful of his drink before he answers, very quietly and quickly. "you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and ive never been happier and i know i dont show it but i dont want this to end and i dont want to have to leave."
he doesn't check to see bruce's reaction.
"jason, i-"
"shut up bruce we just put on a movie please don't talk through it," jason says automatically fast. there's a pause, then bruce snorts. jason's mouth quirks in an almost smile, hidden by his cup.
later, jason moves a little closer. the film is creepy. maybe he does fall asleep on bruce's shoulder. maybe he does feel like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest, and there is someone who cares. someone who will act on his terms only.
he never does say anything like that again. not until it's too late, anyway. but bruce knows. and that's enough.