A/N: So I'm done with school (*throws parade*) and that means more writing time!

Yes, people, this is the chapter you've been waiting for.

Drumroll, please...

...

JASON!

Yes, Jason. I made the PERFECT set up for him last chapter and I'm executing it in this one. Enjoy!

In all the emotions of the day, no one seemed to notice the time of the clock ticking by quickly. By now, Stephanie had left, Tim had gone to bed (at the firm insistence of his family), and Alfred had gone to prepare Damian's room, as Bruce had insisted no one touch it after Damian's 'death'. Now someone needed to sleep in it, so preparations needed to be made.

The time is midnight, and the only three that remain are Damian, Bruce, and Dick. The three still sit on the couch as they watch the day begin to finally wind down in front of their eyes.

Damian's posture is relaxed and tired, his head leaning on Father's shoulder for support. His legs are sprawled out on the rest of the couch, resting on Grayson's legs. His eyelids are beginning to droop. He lets out a small yawn, subconsciously leaning in closer to his father like a cat rubbing its head against a person's legs. Grayson smiles next to him.

"It looks like the emotions of the day really took a toll on you, kiddo," he teases. Damian can hear the tiredness in his voice too. He can't say the same about Father, though. The man survives off of practically no sleep at all. 4 hours in a week is a miracle for him.

While Grayson may be right, the day isn't the only thing making Damian so extremely exhausted. He had a long, hard travel here, only allowing himself occasional sleep when he was in dire need of it. Now that he's home, he's let his guard down. He's finally crashed, and it feels so good to know he can allow himself to slumber peacefully around his family, having no fear of being killed in his sleep.

In other words, he can be a normal twelve year old boy.

Or at least as normal as the son of Batman can possibly be.

It's becoming harder and harder for Damian to keep his eyes open. His father's body provides a comfortable pillow to lay on, while Grayson's mere presence next to him soothes him. He's comforted into falling further under the spell of sleep, making everything seem further away in a haze of fogginess.

"I think he fell asleep on my shoulder," he vaguely hears Father tell Grayson. The rumbling of his father's deep, powerful voice calms him. It always has. Father can make anyone feel safe.

"Should we take him up to his room?" Grayson responds.

Damian feels himself being scooped up in Father's great arms. Father stands up with him as if he weighs less than a feather. To the Batman, he's sure that's what he compares to.

"I'll take him to bed," Father offers. Damian can distantly feel the vibrations from Father's chest as he says this, and the smile obvious in his voice. He adjusts himself like a cat in Father's arms, too tired to make any big movements or to jump out of his arms and walk upstairs himself. Besides, being carried upstairs by Father won't be that bad…

He can allow himself to be a child just this once.

He feels each step his father carries him up and each hallway he goes down. Damian knows where his room is, despite the fact that it's been two years since he's set foot in this giant house. His room was his safe haven. He was always a bit of a loner.

Father gently sets him down on his small, single bed. The mattress feels exactly the same as it did the last time he spent a night here. Stiff, but comfortable. When Father pulls the covers up over his chest, he can faintly smell the laundry detergent and fabric softener emanating from the linens that tickle his nose. His sleep-drunk mind faintly registers the fact that this must mean Alfred has continued to strip and wash the bed even after his death.

It's as if he was never gone.

Father's cool lips touch down on his forehead, giving him a quick kiss. Affection has never been something Father is big on, but Damian's not complaining. He's used to it from Grayson.

"Goodnight, son," Father whispers to him quietly. One lingering pat of his hair and he feels his father's presence leave the room. That's when he finally lets himself wind down, and sleep quickly claims him.

"Hey, kid!"

Damian shifts in his sleep, bothered by some sort of disturbance.

"Kiiiiiddddd!"

He wrinkles his nose curiously, a noise piercing through the veil between his dream world and the real world.

"Yo, Wayne, wake your ass up!"

Damian's eyes snap open, and immediately he jumps from his bed, reaching in the back pocket of his pants to grab a knife he still has with him. Seriously? On the first night back? Oh well, he's been fighting non-stop for two years. He didn't expect it to magically end when he came home. But if someone thinks they can take Damian away from his family when he's barely had a chance to see them again, the bastard has another thing coming.

"Hey, kid, calm down, it's just me!"

That voice sounds familiar. Damian blinks, trying to get a clearer picture of the figure in front of him. Well, as best he can in the dark…

About 6' even, dark hair, what seems to be a leather jacket, dark jeans, a form-fitting gray shirt underneath…

Damian puts the blade back in his back pocket and rolls his eyes.

Jason Todd has finally arrived.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Damian demands to know. Todd laughs and plops himself down on Damian's bed as if he is an invited guest.

"You should really lock that window," Todd reprimands. "You never know what freaks might break in."

Damian can't believe it. He must be losing his touch if someone like Todd can break through his window at night.

"Dammit, Todd, you couldn't use the front door like a normal, civilized human being?" Damian hisses. Todd just rolls his eyes.

"You make it sound like I'm actually welcomed here," he deadpans. Damian shakes his head at Todd's ignorance. He completely underestimates how much everyone still cares about him. Well, at least Bruce and Dick. He's not sure Drake has anything but resentment towards him.

Then again, that's what he thought of his own relationship with Drake before today.

"Of course you are," Damian snaps. "You're the wayward son they just won't give up on, lord knows why."

Todd says nothing in rebuttal, his expression softening just a bit. It's as if he doesn't already know how they care for him. But, before Damian can say any more on the subject, Todd changes it.

"So, I heard you came back to life; did the Pit do a number on ya?" he asks, infusing his own morbid humor into the question.

Damian shakes his head. He's never been in the Lazarus Pit. He doesn't know what exactly it does to a person. Sure, he's seen it used before, but he'll never know what it does to your mind. Todd, however, has been in the Lazarus Pit. He's seen the effects firsthand, felt them course through his veins. Damian briefly wonders how Todd couldn't already tell he hadn't been dipped in the Pit. He expected some sort of sixth sense from him.

"I wasn't put in the Lazarus Pit," Damian explains. Todd nods knowingly. That catches Damian's attention. Maybe he was right about the sixth sense…

"I thought so," he admits. "So, care to tell me how you came back to life?"

Damian is hesitant to tell Todd, who was faced both death and reincarnation from the Pit, that he was never dead in the first place. For not the first time that night, he feels selfish. Todd had no choice when it came to leaving Bruce. The Joker forced his hand. Damian had a choice. And he hurt a lot of people in the process.

"I… I staged my death, Todd. I was never actually dead."

Damian watches the grin slowly fade from Todd's face. An expression of pure rage replaces it. Damian's not sure he's ever seen Todd this way, and he's angry nearly all the time. But this anger… it's personal.

"You what?" he growls. Damian opens his mouth to reiterate, but Todd puts his hand up to silence him.

"I know what you said, don't say it again!" he nearly shouts.

Damian backs up. Who knew Todd could get this passionate?

"How could you do that to your family? Huh, kid? Did you think of how they'd take it? You know how torn up your old man was when I died? And I'm not even his real kid. Hell, I'm not his favorite by a long shot. You're the biological one and the youngest. You wanna know what he did after I died? He starting breaking bad on all the criminals in Gotham! Petty thieves, bank robbers, muggers, you name it. Didn't matter what they did as long as they were there as something to take it out on. Old man nearly broke his moral code too. Of course, I would have enjoyed that, but this isn't about me. He lost his freaking mind out of guilt. And you think he didn't do exactly the same when he thought you were the one who died?"

Damian lowers his head slightly in shame. He never even considered that fact. Did Father blame himself? Did he let the guilt drive him? Did he come close to killing out of the sheer anger he felt over his son's supposed death? He'll have to ask him in the morning.

But he knows Todd is wrong about one thing. Father loves them all equally – something Damian would never admit in front of Drake – and cares about Todd just as much as he cares about the rest of them.

"Todd, I…" Damian begins, unsure of how to proceed.

How does one give a proper apology? Especially if that person is Damian Wayne?

"I am… sorry."

The way he spits the word out almost makes it sound insincere, but not quite. Todd can tell that he means it.

"Just never pull a stunt like that again, okay?" he warns. "It was stupid and selfish and if you do it again, I'll make sure you're actually dead this time."

Damian nods in response. He never plans on doing anything similar to that ever again. Being away from home so long was hell. Of course he'd never do it again.

Todd hesitantly walks forward and places his hand on Damian's shoulder. It's an awkward acknowledgement touch. He's trying so hard to make an effort, and Damian appreciates it.

"I'm, uh… I'm glad you're okay, kid."

Damian smirks and shakes his head. Only Todd could make a 'welcome home' sound so unwelcoming. But he's trying… In his own special way, that is.

"Thank you, Todd," Damian responds. "It's good to be home."

A silence passes over the two of them, Todd's hand still on firmly on Damian's shoulder. Neither makes a move. It's as if the universe is preventing them from disrupting this rare and delicate moment between the two most aggressive ones in the family. They're actually being civil for once.

After a few more seconds of silence, Todd smirks.

"Are we having a moment?" he asks jokingly. Damian gives him a glare, shooting daggers into his eyes.

"Tell anyone of this and I will slice your throat in your sleep using your precious Red Hood mask as a blade," Damian threatens. Todd laughs deeply and loudly, taking his hand off Damian's shoulder and patting him on the back.

"But you didn't deny it, kid!"

A/N: Awwww, Jason and his little brother! *heart melts*

In case you're still a little confused, Jason hung up on Dick in the last chapter because he was suspicious and wanted to see Damian for himself (hence the reason he snuck in at night).

I'd love to hear what you think and who you'd like to see next!