Who: Alfred Pennyworth and Jason Todd What: Reunion! When: Christmas Day Where: Wayne Manor Warnings: Brief mentions of Bat family drama like Talia's F- parenting and the Robins trying to do each other in.
Between the various Bats in Tumbleweed, Jason figured Alfred had more than enough attention coming his way when he got out of quarantine. He decided to let his brothers take care of picking Alfred up, if only to spare everyone a very public emotional reunion that he was pretty sure was going to happen, seeing as Alfred had thought Jason was dead, and Jason had missed Alfred more than he was comfortable admitting. Whether this was his Alfred or not, Jason could not ignore how vital the old butler had been in bringing him home after the Pit and Arkham and everything else. The man was probably the only person in the Bat family toward whom Jason had never held any ill will.
Besides, someone had to cook for the clan. Jason might not be the only person on kitchen duty that day, but it gave him a convenient excuse to stay distracted. He’d approached the Christmas menu with less aggression than Thanksgiving. Something about the season soothed him. Jason didn’t know what it was, exactly. Maybe he had more happy memories of Christmas than other holidays. Maybe he just liked it.
Jason closed the oven door on a roast that would take several hours to cook, and turned to wipe down the counter. He’d learned that from his mother. Always wipe down the cooking space, especially after working with raw meat. He’d learned the recipe for the roast from Alfred, who’d entertained Jason’s shy questions in the kitchen when he was a child, and fostered the boy’s growing interest in the culinary arts.
Considering the life Alfred had lived as Bruce's loyal butler and confidant, this time jump to a different reality came more easily accepted than many others might. He had seen plenty of strange and wondrous things in his lifetime. He was not happy about the news that Bruce himself was not around. However, he was positively delighted that not only Dick and Jason were there, but future Robin’s and a future Batman were hanging around as well. It warmed his heart to know that Bruce’s legacy continue in more than one reality.
Alfred had some decent computer skills and had spent much of his time researching the town of Tumbleweed, as well the names of those whom he had been introduced to over the network. He felt it was only proper to know how he knew them and if he had ever done anything to cause any animosity. Being told he was a fictitious character was what made him most surprised, so finding the information on the others and himself eased that somewhat. He had seen some very odd things, but being told he was a fictional character was perhaps the oddest. Everything he found on this thing called the Internet seemed to confirm everything he had been told.
Upon his release from quarantine Alfred had gathered his belongings that had arrived with him and had even remade the bed and made sure the room was left as he had first found it. It was the proper thing to do. He felt more at home at the manor than in quarantine, no matter how much he appreciated the cleanliness of the base. He proceeded to the kitchen for an inspection, as Terry had informed him he had been cooking as of late. Alfred expected to find the room in a mess, but was pleased to find nearly the opposite. Instead of finding Terry, he found Jason and for a brief moment he halted in his track. “I'm pleased to find the kitchen is not entirely demolished, master Jason.” It wasn't a name he expected to speak aloud often, and certainly not to Jason himself. That wound was the freshest and he could still see an even more injured Bruce in his mind's eye. Jason's death had come as such a deep blow to them both and Alfred hadn't been sure Bruce would ever get passed it. To see him alive and well, and older than when he last saw him, was such a relief Alfred couldn't possibly express.
Jason didn’t jump when Alfred entered and startled him out of his focus on the next dish--too many years of Bat training--but it was a near thing. He grinned sheepishly at the older man and set aside the mixing bowl he’d just gotten out. “I’m not saying Terry’s good at keeping a kitchen in order,” he replied, “but I will say he hasn’t done anything to it yet that I couldn’t fix.” Jason stepped around the counter, as though to shake Alfred’s hand or give him a hug or something, but stopped in his tracks, struck by how young Alfred looked. Abruptly, it hit Jason just how long it had been since he’d actually died, and how fresh that hurt must have been for the butler.
“It’s, uh, it’s good to see you,” he said, looking down at the tiled floor and shoving his hands into his pockets. Jason was dressed for a busy morning in the kitchen, in worn, comfortable jeans, combat boots, and a red hoodie draped over a faded charcoal gray tee-shirt. He’d planned to change into something nicer later in the day, when there was less chance of getting flour all over himself.
“As I have told master Terry, I shall be the judge of such things. So far,” he said with a look around at the kitchen at large, “it isn't much of a mess to clean up. Clean as you go and leave the messes to me.” Maybe he had been told not to worry about cleaning, but it was so instilled in Alfred that he couldn't simply stand back and watch. He needed to have something to fix or clean. Something that needed tending to. With a house full of mostly young men, he was usually up to his elbows in cleaning.
Alfred considered Jason for a moment. He wasn't much for showing his emotions. He tended to keep those to himself. On the occasion he did show more than his professional mannerisms, it was usually because Bruce had nearly gotten himself killed. Bruce would always be like a son to him, just as the remainder of the Bat family were like his grandchildren. Perhaps Alfred could sense that hesitation, or perhaps he was simply allowing himself to show more than proper etiquette. Either way, he stepped forward and allowed himself to hug the young man. “It's good to see you too, Jason.” Alfred didn't often use only first names because he felt it was rude and impolite. In this instance he could drop those formalities and express his happiness to see Jason again.
The moment Alfred put his arms around him, Jason relaxed into the hold. He’d gotten tall in the years since he’d died, rivaling Bruce, and he recalled how strange it had felt hugging Alfred for the first time after he’d been revived. He hadn’t been fully grown then, and he wondered how odd Alfred found it to go from missing a boy to seeing that same boy as a man. Jason tucked his face against Alfred’s shoulder to hide a smile. “Sorry I pulled a disappearing act,” he said, his voice muffled. He’d never quite gotten around to telling Alfred how much he’d missed him in their own world, or much he regretted putting the old butler through so much.
If Jason’s voice got a little rough, well … he’d really, really missed Alfred. It hadn’t felt right, not even being able to call him, to ask him for advice or to tell him about a new book he’d read or a recipe he’d found. To complain to him about his brothers or to share an embarrassing story at their expense.
It was indeed quite strange for Alfred to see Jason as a grown man. He might never see him as more than a boy, but who could blame the old butler? He did the same with Dick, even if he had grown more in front of Alfred. Then here was Bruce, who had grown into Gotham’s Dark Knight. Alfred would always support Bruce and the others, but it pained him whenever they were hurt. He had healed them so often that the family was not want for a physician. And Alfred was not afraid of putting them in their place if they tried to get out of bed too soon.
Alfred clapped Jason on the back. “Don't let it happen again,” he said with a mixture of relief and scolding. He released Jason and patted his shoulder. “Now, what have you started cooking?” He moved around the counter to the oven, where he turned on the oven light. There was a hint of a smile as he saw the roast. “A proper Christmas meal, I see,” he said with approval.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jason promised Alfred. He knew Alfred would understand that Jason meant he’d do his best to survive, always, but like any other Bat, he’d sacrifice himself if he had to for the sake of another. Jason was just, in some ways, a little more careful, despite his reputation as a hothead. People tended to see that carefulness as a lack of caring or willingness to put others before himself. Jason was fine with that, as long as it kept them from seeing what he was actually up to. It was a useful subterfuge.
“Believe it or not, I’m actually winging it this time around.” He smirked at the pun on both Dick’s name and the nickname Dick had called him for years, Little Wing. Jason hadn’t been aiming for it, but like any good Robin, there were times he couldn’t resist when an opportunity arose. “I mean, okay, I had to plan the roast, but I haven’t decided what to do about the rest. I was just going to prep since I’m in here anyway. We’re going to have some people over. Mostly people from different versions of our universe. Which means speedsters. Which means a lot of food.”
Alfred gave a short, decisive nod as though he could accept Jason's answer. He knew better than most what it meant to be a part of the Bat family, even if he wasn't the one putting himself in harm's way. In some ways, being the one left to watch over the manner and come up with convenient excuses for the others’ absences was putting himself in danger. It depended on who came to the door.
As Alfred turned around toward Jason once again there was a hint of a grin on his face. He pulled off his scarf then and went to hang it on a hook near the kitchens entrance before doing the same with his coat. He proceeded to the sink to wash his hands. “Looks as though we have a lot of work ahead of us.” That was Alfred-speak for I'm helping you. And he wouldn't take no for an answer.
Jason laughed and shook his head. Of course Alfred would jump straight into work once he got out of quarantine. They were all probably lucky that the Manor was here. It meant that Alfred had something to focus on that might distract him from personally inspecting each Bat’s individual residence, at least for a day or two. Getting the man to take a day off was harder than getting Bruce to take his head out of his own rear.
“Yeah, I guess so. Could be reinforcements on the way. If we get really desperate, we might be able to send Clark to go grab some extras. But I’ve got to tell you, it’s weird. Clark and Lois are about the same age as me and Dick. Barry’s not much older either, or Iris, and apparently there are versions of Oliver Queen who aren’t complete jack a- er, jerks.” Jason caught himself at the last second. He’d swear around almost anyone except Alfred. “Plus, the queen of the Amazons is here, and Darth Vader before he was Vader, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and the Doctor. As in Time Lords and Daleks.” Jason pulled some vegetables out of the refrigerator to wash. “Plus I look like some guy’s brother, and Dick looks like the same guy’s dad.”
The only thing better than a clean home were safe Bats, and so far Alfred had no reason to grumble or fuss over either. Certainly, the kitchen would need washing but they were also cooking and preparing food. Alfred would do both at the same time to save time and worry about bigger messes later. For now, her removed a cutting board from the cabinet.
He couldn't help the content look on his face as Jason spoke. It brought back a flood of memories and he enjoyed thinking about better times. He did arch an eyebrow at Jason's near miss, but said nothing of the almost-incident. He pulled a knife out and began washing the vegetables, setting them in separate piles for cutting. “It pleases me to hear of all the friends you've made. Are these the people coming over today?”
“If they’ve got Justice League ties, basically,” Jason confirmed. “Not all of the worlds have the League, but there’s overlap of the capes and cowls. B’s missing in a lot of them, though. The Supergirl and Superman who are here have never met him. Neither has the Flash. Barry’s Flash, not Wally’s.” Jason started to peel the vegetables that needed it, his knife work clean and rapid, worlds beyond anything Alfred would have seen from him before he’d died.
“Diana knows a version of Bruce, but she’d never met any of the Robins before she came here. I don’t think she knew about us, actually.” Jason’s cheeks warmed as he recalled how Ace had presented her with a pair of Wonder Woman boxers he’d ‘borrowed’ from Jason’s old room upstairs when she’d been over for Thanksgiving. “Definitely not letting Ace anywhere near her unattended,” he muttered. He’d have to make sure he gave his dog something not embarrassing to carry around while people were over.
Alfred allowed Jason to tell him whatever came to mind. He began chopping vegetables once they were peeled, setting them aside into their separate piles as he worked. Hearing that Bruce wasn't involved in all realities made him glance over to Jason, though he hid his surprise well.
“I suppose it isn't feasible for all of us to exist in all worlds.” No matter how much he would have liked them to all be a part of every world. “Miss Diana seems like a lovely young woman,” he remarked. He gave Jason the side-eye. “What would you suggest he carry around?” he asked curiously.
Jason ducked his head. He’d had the worst crush on Wonder Woman as a kid, though in retrospect, it hadn’t been a crush so much as a serious case of hero worship. “Something that didn’t come from my laundry,” he muttered. He really shouldn’t have brought his clothes over to the manor to wash that day, even if the place had the best damn washer and dryer available on the market.
“Maybe Bruce is around in the other worlds, but something happened a different way,” he allowed, not so subtly changing the subject. “Who knows?” He paused in his work and set the knife aside so he could turn to watch Alfred, expression serious. “The family’s not all from the same world, either. I don’t know if anyone told you that. Best we can tell, Dick and I are from one reality, and Damian’s from another. Terry’s from a third. They’re similar enough that we don’t usually run into problems, but … ” He shrugged. “I figured you should know, if you didn’t already.”
Alfred continued side-eyeing Jason, chuckling at his answer. “One would not want their personal effects to be traipsed around the manor while company is over. If you have laundry here today, perhaps we can keep it in a locked room away from Ace.” It was humorous, watching Jason get flustered over whatever had happened and Alfred could surmise it involved Diana and something exceptionally personal from his laundry. He didn't ask more regarding the topic, however.
“That is what master Dick has informed me. Master Terry says he is the future Batman,” he said with a tone if interest. “I researched those whom I have conversed with over the network. More or less to ensure there is no bad blood I should be aware of.” He finished chopping a potato and set it with the pile he had made. “What should an old man know of the young Bats and their friends?” It was his way of tactfully asking if anyone as bad news.
The question, innocent as it sounded, made Jason shrink, just a little. His shoulders hunched, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. It was an old habit, one he’d brought with him from the street. Jason tended to adopt the posture when he had something to say that he feared would go over badly.
“Things … got kind of bad. After I died. Pretty much in every world that I know about at the moment. Not that Dick and I always got along, but Dami and Tim got the short end of the stick in a lot of ways.” Jason scuffed the toe of one boot against the tile. “It’s fine now. Mostly. I might have taken some cheap shots at Tim and Dami, though, when I first came back. And Dami might have tried to off Tim. Just a little. Because that’s how it works in the League of Assassins.”
Alfred took note of the sudden change in posture and immediately a warning beacon went off in his brain. He had come across dangerous territory uncountable times in his years as Bruce’s butler. Learning about something would most likely make the hairs on his neck stand on end was nothing new to him. Alfred preferred to be in the loop than ignorant.
“In other words, nothing too different from what I am used to witnessing,” he said nonchalantly. Leave it to the Bat family to cause havoc. As long as they returned home in as close to their previous conditions as possible. And as long as they were fighting for justice and the safety of others. “Master Damian sounds like a force to be reckoned with.” Not surprising, considering his parentage.
Jason swallowed and nodded, not quite comforted by Alfred’s implacability. He wondered if Alfred would be so unruffled when he heard the rest of it. Of course, it was Christmas, so maybe they could skip over a few things, wait for another day to catch up on all the stupid things the Bats had gotten up to in the years Alfred hadn’t lived yet. Things like Jason going crazy, Bruce disappearing, and Dick being kidnapped. Things like having to bury a second Robin.
“He’s something else,” Jason agreed in reference to Damian. “Talia and Ra’s did a number on him. He’s not a bad kid, just … ” He waved a hand in the air, then turned back to peeling vegetables. “He’s definitely Bruce’s. I’m not always sure that’s a good thing. Bruce tends to forget to be a dad sometimes. I think Dick is a better influence on Damian. They’re pretty close.”
Indeed, another day was probably the better choice than Christmas Day. Alfred was curious and he wanted to catch up on as much as possible, but he also wanted to enjoy his family's company as well as their friends. He was intrigued to meet these heroes of other worlds. He liked meeting others and figuring out for himself if they could be trusted or needed close watching.
“He did mention his mother. I'm uncertain exactly how I feel about her, but I can tell from our short conversation that master Damian is not fond of her.” He left it there, rather than divulging more. For the most part, he preferred letting the boys come to him when they were ready. However, that did not stop him from saying something that might convince them to tell him right then. If not, Alfred would drop the topic for a time unless it was weighing on him. “I did better with master Dick than with master Bruce, it is no surprise to me that master Dick has instilled trust in our young Bat.”
“Can’t say I’m a fan,” Jason remarked of Talia. “Damian’s got plenty of reasons not to be fond of her. Maybe she was a good mom once, but she’s too wrapped up in Ra’s and his schemes.” Bruce in Jason’s world had all but declared war on Ra’s, who’d tried to murder one son, and succeeded in murdering a second. If the chance came, Jason would take the shot, Bruce’s rules about killing be damned.
“Dick’s good for him. And Dami’s good for Dick. I think having a big family suits the dork.” Somehow, Jason managed to hide his fond smile. “Tim’s a little more quiet. Kind of gets lost in his own head. And Cass is pretty much a ninja to shame all ninjas. She’s not here, but you’ll like her if she shows up. Far as I know, in most universes, she’s the one who behaves.” He fell silent for a moment, focused on his work while he entertained thoughts of what else he should tell Alfred. There was so much, most of it too tense or sad for the holidays if they could avoid it.
Finally, Jason settled on something simple. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I can't say I blame any of you. She was one to watch closely,” he remarked, not saying outright he didn't trust Talia. She was in that grey area of can she be trusted or not. Jason's words cemented Alfred's decision.
Alfred had always been quite fond of Dick. It had broken his heart when the young Robin left the team, even if it had been to do more. However, having so many of the Robin’s together in one place, seemingly working together, that made his heart swell with pride. Alfred smiled a little at the announcement of one of the Bats behaving, “I will be the judge of that. Is she one of the future Robin’s?”
At Jason's suddenly declaration, Alfred stopped his work and turned his head to look at his companion. He clapped Jason on the back. “As am I, master Jason. As am I,” he said with a pleasant smile before turning back to his work.
“I’d say Bruce should arrest her, but it wouldn’t stick.” Talia would be out of jail faster than Wally could down a chilli dog. Jason felt oddly like he owed her on some days, for picking him up and looking after him when he’d been not much more than a husk after his resurrection. Then he thought of what she’d done to Damian, and the feeling fled.
“Cass is Cass,” he informed Alfred. “She’s whatever she wants to be. So far, that hasn’t included Robin. I wasn’t around when Bruce adopted her, but she needed a family since her parents are also shi- Um, terrible. Her parents are terrible. More assassins. I swear we’re not having a contest for who can have the worst childhood.” Jason finished with the vegetables and washed his knife in the sink.
When Alfred patted him on the back, Jason grinned, and ducked his head. “So is there any chance I can convince you to take it easy today and let the rest of us handle Christmas?”
“I can't say I'm surprised,” he confessed. Considering Talia’s parentage, he wasn't surprised she would need to be arrested. Or worse. Alfred's suspicions were often well placed. If he knew he full story, he would likely say Talia needed to be placed in a high security prison for the rest of her life.
Alfred chuckled, “There is always someone who has it worse the next person. Master Bruce has always had a soft spot for those with troubled pasts. No one Bat is any worse off or better than the other. You are all equally important to me, and I have every confidence master Bruce feels the same.”
Alfred’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as he considered Jason's question. “I make no promises, master Jason.”
“It was worth a shot,” Jason conceded. “You did just get here. No one’s expecting you to jump straight to work. I promise we can survive for one whole day if you let us. I’ll even guard the kitchen.” Could Jason convince the rest this was his Christmas gift to them if he managed to get Alfred to take the day off? Claim that he’d been stalling to give them time to clean before the family butler came through and did it for them before sighing in despair at the lack of certain life skills exhibited by his charges?
Mostly, though, Jason just wanted Alfred to have the chance to settle in, get to know everyone, and enjoy a hopefully quiet day, with no villains or crises or worrying about getting the dishes done. Alfred was as much a workaholic as any of them, and too often, no one pressed him into taking a day off.
Alfred couldn't help the amused smile. “Perhaps after we've finished prepping the side dishes,” he said after a moment. It wasn't easy for Alfred to halt his duties and relax. To sit down and prop his feet up with a cup of tea. Those moments were most often reserved for the end of the day when the day's work was finished. Then came the waiting around for Bruce and his Robin to return from whatever mission they were off on.
“I would like to see the Batcave and these animals master Damian has stored away,” he said after a moment. “I will do that when we've finished here,” he declared.
Jason nodded, and got to work retrieving containers for storing the prepped vegetables until it was time to cook them. “Sure. I’ll grab Ace and we can go for a walk. I don’t need to be back in the kitchen for a little while.” And as they finished their work, Jason thought of how good it was to have Alfred there, and how he hadn’t even realized how tense he’d been with the old butler absent.