Over the next few days, Jason packs up everything he thinks he'll need in Blüdhaven. Dick looks into two-bedroom apartments, and Tim helps Jason decide what books he should bring along, since he'll have to leave most of them at Wayne Manor due to the lack of space at Dick's apartment. And as Jason had suspected, as the end of the week approaches, his apprehension at the idea of leaving gradually eases. This is largely due to Dick's excitement, and the support of Jason's decision by Tim, Bruce, and Alfred.

When Jason visits the hospital again on Thursday, Dick and Tim tag along, bringing treats made by Alfred, as well as more books. The three of them spend all afternoon reading to the kids in the hospital, making sure to visit every child there, and not just the victims of the children's home fire. By the time they get back to the Manor, Bruce is nowhere to be seen, having already left for patrol. Jason's desire to follow Bruce into the city as the Gotham Knight is painfully obvious, but Dick and Tim manage to keep him busy far into the night. They eventually all fall asleep in the Batcave, surrounded by piles of GCPD casefiles.

Jason wakes up hours later to find a blanket had been draped over his shoulders. He glances over at the sleeping forms of Dick and Tim, who also are covered in blankets. Groaning, he stretches his stiff limbs and stands, making his way upstairs to the kitchen, where he heats some tea. Leaving the kettle on the stove, he takes his steaming mug over to the kitchen's breakfast bar and sits on one of the barstools, resting his arms on the counter and staring into the shadows cast by the oven light he had turned on.

He's there for some time before a voice jolts him out of his thoughts.

"Jason?"

Jason twists around, his eyebrows raising slightly as he stares at the figure standing in the doorway. "Hey, Bruce."

"It's past three, Jason. What are you doing awake?"

Jason shrugs, slowly rotating the mug between his hands. "Couldn't sleep."

A grimace slides onto Bruce's face. "Nightmare?"

Jason shakes his head. "No. Just thinking."

Bruce glances at the stovetop, on which sits the tea kettle; walking over, he takes a mug from the overhead cupboard and fills it with the hot drink. Jason watches as Bruce moves across the kitchen to his side, then pulls out the stool next to him and sits down.

"About what?" asks Bruce.

Jason stares into his mug, watching the tea swirl as he steadies it with his hands. "Moving to Blüdhaven. Online school. The Gotham Knight."

"That's a lot to be thinking about at three in the morning."

Jason gives a soft laugh. "Yeah."

Bruce presses his lips together. "Are you…" He pauses, unsure how to ask.

"Having regrets? Hesitations?" supplies Jason. He taps a finger against the side of his mug. "No. I suppose not. I just…" He lets out a sigh. "I don't know. I'm not really sure what there is to talk about. I'm just going over everything in my mind, you know?"

Bruce nods. "It's a big change."

"I guess."

They're quiet for a minute. Besides the creak of the barstool as Jason shifts on it, and the soft ticking of a wall clock, there isn't much noise to fill the silence.

"I'd like to give some of my money to the rebuilding of the children's home," Jason finally says.

Bruce looks over at Jason, his brow creasing. "Jason, I've made sure that the project has more than enough funding behind it."

"I know. I just…I'd like to be involved in it somehow."

A warmth seeps into Bruce's eyes. "And I admire that. But I'm not sure that giving money to a project that no longer needs financing is the most effective way to do it."

Jason nods, a tinge of disappointment in his expression. Deep in thought, he doesn't say anything for a moment. "Well, can I be in charge of restocking the library, instead?"

Bruce blinks at Jason, surprised by the request. When Bruce doesn't reply right away, Jason bites his lip in uncertainty. "I mean…if no one else is doing it yet. I could, you know, help pick out the books that go into it…or maybe I could talk to the kids who'll live there once it's done and ask them what kind of books they want." Bruce smiles, giving Jason the courage to continue. "And maybe a big globe, with a stand that holds it at the children's height, so they can use it. The plastic one hanging from the ceiling before was kind of pathetic, honestly. Oh, and some computers – plenty of the kids are old enough to use them, and there are some typing programs that could be installed to help them learn how to properly type, and –" He stops, his cheeks bright with a red flush. "Sorry. I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself."

Bruce chuckles. "Nothing to apologize for. I'm thrilled to see you so passionate about this." He pulls his tea mug closer to him. "I think that's a fantastic idea. A lot of that work can be done from Blüdhaven, and you're close enough to come when needed. Why don't you call Melonie Stevens? She's the woman you worked with when you went to the home before; she'll be able to get you started on all of this."

A rather excited grin stretches across Jason's face. "Okay."

Reaching out, Bruce lays a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Now, why don't you go to bed? You shouldn't be up so late."

"That's hilarious coming from you," mutters Jason. But nevertheless, he stands, taking his mug with him as he heads through the kitchen door and into the hallway.

Bruce stays behind for a few minutes more, taking his time to finish his tea before finally leaving the mug in the sink and heading to his own room. The curtains over the window behind his bed have been partially pulled back, allowing moonlight to spill over the carefully folded sheets and neatly arranged pillows. As Bruce approaches the bed, his eyes narrow at a note placed on the center of the mattress; picking it up, he holds it in the stream of moonlight to read the words there.

Bruce –

We've found all the cameras you had installed in our rooms, and while you were out on patrol we took the liberty of transferring all six of them into your bedroom. We suppose you could try locating them, but we advise against it, as it is for your own protection. Don't worry, we promise to use them only when necessary.

Alfred's got our back on this, so don't bother trying to get him to help you.

See you at breakfast (Jason's making French toast, so don't even think about sleeping in).

Dick, Jason, & Tim

Bruce stares at the note for a long minute, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. Finally, he just lets the paper flutter to the floor, and then he collapses onto the bed with a low grunt, falling asleep almost instantly and not moving until Tim gets him up for the promised breakfast a few hours later.

/

"Everything in there?"

Dick slams down the lid of his car's trunk and grins at Bruce. "Yup. Good thing you're sending Jason's stuff to the apartment ahead of us, otherwise I don't think there'd be room for Tim in the backseat."

"Yes," comments Tim sarcastically. "I appreciate the thoughtfulness."

"Anything to make you happy, Timmy," Jason teases, elbowing Tim in the side as he comes up from behind him.

Tim shoots a glare at Jason, trying to look annoyed despite to the amused glint in his eyes.

"Here are some snacks for the trip," says Alfred, holding out a bulging food bag that Tim gratefully takes. "Now I suggest you three head out sooner rather than later, or I fear you won't get very far today."

"Yes, yes, Alfred," Dick says cheerfully. "We're going." He gestures to Tim with a wave of his hand. "Tim, bring the food bag over to the car." Adjusting his grip on the bag, Tim follows Dick, leaving Jason standing by Alfred and Bruce.

Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, Jason turns to the two older men. "K…well, guess I'll be going."

Alfred gives a warm smile. "We'll see you soon, Master Jason. And I'll be sure to make pot roast when you come home next."

Jason grins. Leave it to Alfred to remember one of his favorite dishes, even if he hasn't asked for it in months. "Sounds good." He hesitates, then steps forward and pulls Alfred into a fierce embrace. Alfred is stiff with surprise for the tiniest moment, but then he's wraps his arms around the boy.

"Thanks for everything, Alfred," Jason says.

"Anything for you, my dear boy," replies Alfred. He pulls back, then glances over at Dick and Tim, who are both leaning into the back of the car.

"No, no the cooler needs to be here. Move the food bag over there, Tim!"

"I can't with your fat arm in the way!"

The corners of Alfred's mouth perk up ever so slightly. "I believe I'm needed by your brothers. If you'll excuse me…"

Jason steps aside, allowing Alfred to walk over to the car to help Dick and Tim with their less-than-stellar packing job. Tapping a fist against his thigh, Jason looks back over at Bruce. The older man watches him quietly, a mournful sadness mixed with proud joy settling deep into his eyes. Unsure what to say, Jason averts his gaze. Bruce swallows, then steps forward and takes Jason into his arms, pulling the boy against his chest. Jason immediately circles his arms around Bruce, burying his face in the folds of Bruce's shirt and breathing in the comforting scent of his father.

"I'm so proud of you, Jason."

Jason smiles against Bruce's chest, tears pricking his eyes. "Thanks, dad," he whispers.

Bruce freezes. Then he tightens his arms around Jason, and presses a loving kiss to the top of his son's head. "I'll see you soon."

"Course," Jason says, pulling away. A smirk spreads across his face. "Can't keep me away forever."

A chuckle escapes Bruce.

"Jason!" shouts Tim. "Hurry up!" He's leaning out of the back window of the car, having finally gotten everything arranged inside. Dick sits in the driver's seat, resting his arm on the steering wheel as he watches Bruce and Jason. Standing beside the car is Alfred, who is shaking his head at the two boys.

Looking happier than Bruce has seen him in a long time, Jason sprints over to the car and slides into the front passenger seat. Alfred shuts the door behind him and Bruce walks forward, joining the butler on the edge of the sidewalk. Turning the car on, Dick twists around to throw a quick wave at Bruce and Alfred. They wave back, and then watch as the car roars down the long driveway, sending up dust into the morning sunlight as it goes through the open Wayne Manor gates, disappearing into the distance.

/

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We've reached the end, my dear readers. Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments; they were all very appreciated, and kept my drive for this story going. :)

I will not be writing a third story; for now, it will be just If He Had Come and Desiderium (though I might write a one-shot from this universe here and there).

Thanks for reading!