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Title: Sing our hearts to our sleeves
Author: Munnin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mostly just Jason and Bruce but Jason/Tim implied.
Verse:
[info]me_ya_ri’s brilliant Left Behind But Not For Long with reference to The Robins, Everything I Do with reference to Concert and my All in a song which sits between them.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history.
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.

Happy birthday me_ya_ri! This isn’t what I originally planned to write but the idea got away. I hope you like it anyway.

Summary: Bruce overhears Jason playing the Robins' music.

Jason laid on his back, his eyes closed as he punched up the last Robins’ album. According to his gauntlet, he and Tim weren’t due to go visit them for another four months but something Bassist Tim said to his Tim was gnawing at him.

a really bad experience.’ ‘...after what I went through

Jason hadn’t noticed anything wrong at the time. Different Tim, different reactions so it was hard to tell if his behaviour had been out of character.

But somehow he felt guilty for not noticing.

There was a subtle change in the texture of the room and Jason opened his eyes to find Bruce lingering in the doorway.

“Interesting lyrics.” Bruce commented quietly, his head cocked to one side as he listened. “I don’t believe I know the band.”

“Wrong verse.” Jason muttered, tossing a CD case to him.

Bruce studied the cover thoroughly, his brow creasing. “The Robins?”

“Dick’s idea at a guess.”

Bruce flicked though the liner notes, reading the lyrics with care. “What happened to them?” he asked, picking up the sense of profound sadness in their words.

Jason closed his eyes with a sigh, clenching his fists against the memory of Tim’s song, of the pain that cracked his voice and the single tear that rolled down his cheek. “They lost you.”

Bruce sat carefully on the edge of the bed, picking up the other CD case and examining it just as thoroughly. “How?”

“An earthquake. Worse than No-man’s.” Jason sat up, perching on the edge of the bed at Bruce’s side. “He send them away to keep them safe but...Gotham was destroyed.”

Bruce sighed, almost imperceptibility, his fingers brushing over the glossy surface of the booklet.

“But they’re together.” Jason started. “All the verses, all worlds I visited I saw every possible version of us but they were the only ones...” He ran a hand through his hair. “They’re a family and it makes them strong. Fuck,” he muttered ruefully, “even their Damian’s bearable.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth curled just ever so slightly in the tight suppression of a smile. “What instrument does he play?”

Jason leant over to the stereo and flicked to a different track. Traditional Middle Eastern flute, deep and melodic, entwined with modern guitar, fast and complex. Although the piece was purely instrumental, it carried a sense of connection and longing. “It’s called Fathers and Sons.” Jason said quietly, “Damian wrote it. For his Bruce.”

Bruce nodded and in the fading light, Jason could just make out a glisten of moisture in the corner of his eye. “Are they happy?”

Jason took a long moment to consider the answer. “They’re together and they keep each other safe. They’re good.”

Bruce reached out and rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. He didn’t say anything but then, he didn’t have to. In that touch Jason felt the love and respect Bruce felt – for him, for his brothers, for all of them. All the things he could never put into words. “Will you visit them again?”

“I promised their Tim I’d be back to hear the new album.”

Bruce opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped. What was there to say? He couldn’t replace the father they lost, nor could he offer them comfort. “Bring a copy back.” He said quietly as he rose. “I’d like to hear it.”

“Will do, boss.” Jason answered with a nod, laying back down to let the music wash over him.

“Jason.” Bruce paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m glad you and Tim are happy.”

“Thanks.” Jason felt his heart swell in his chest. He loved Tim, well beyond the need for anyone else’s blessing but somehow knowing that Bruce approved... “That means a lot to me.”

Bruce smiled again, just as tight as before and left him to it.


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