In hindsight, this had been a really bad idea. When Alfred had asked him to stop by the manor for lunch, he'd been so close to saying no. It's not like he'd been back there in years, not since… anyway, it wasn't a huge loss. He was fine just where he was, especially since it meant he was far away from his so-called family. Bumping into those idiots during patrol was bad enough; he didn't need to spend his free time with them too.

But Alfred had sounded so hopeful, and he was the one person Jason still had a hard time disappointing. Alfred had never let him down, not like Bruce, and Dick, and everyone else. Combined with the promise of his favourite foods (it'd be nice to have something other than shitty frozen meals for a change) and the deciding factor — the fact that Bruce would be away on a business trip that day — had ultimately convinced him to accept the offer.

It was just one short, meaningless lunch, that he could bring up as his defence if Alfred ever tried to guilt him into another one.

(Sure, he'd thought that, but he should have known that going to that stupid house was a bad idea).

…

Maybe if he hadn't looked, if he'd just minded his own business, and reminded himself that he was here for two reasons — to placate Alfred and stuff his face — things would have been different.

But who was he kidding? It was pretty damn hard to just ignore it, no matter how much he wished he had.

"Oh he's back!"

"He's going to be so happy…"

"He's not here at the moment, remember? Pity, I know he would have been so…"

Jason's head snapped to the side (an unfortunate move, he'd later realise), his eyes scanning over the the source of the whispers — a man and a woman, standing near the base of the staircase. They looked vaguely familiar, but Jason couldn't put his finger on where he'd seen them. 'Friends' of Bruce's maybe; the old man still had to maintain his air headed playboy act, so it wasn't exactly out of character to see rich socialites stopping by from time to time. Their clothing definitely supported to that idea.

Didn't really explain what they were doing here now though, or why they were staring at him like a pair of creeps.

"What the hell are you looking at?!"

They reacted almost simultaneously, eyes widening in shock and mouths parting. Jason felt a spark of approval — serves them right for staring at him. Seriously what the fuck was that about? — but before he could say anything else (bastards were still staring and didn't even have the decency to sound ashamed) he heard Alfred calling from the dining room.

"Master Jason? What are you doing?"

Jason glared at them, before walking away. Whatever. They could hang around if they wanted to; it wasn't like he'd be sticking around for long anyway.

He entered the dining room just as Alfred was leaving, most likely heading towards the kitchen to finish up with lunch. Jason felt a spark of annoyance when he saw that his three 'brothers' were already sitting inside. He'd been lucky enough to avoid Bruce, but of course his luck only extended so far.

They were arguing by the sound of it. No surprise there.

" — and that is why Drake was the worst Robin ever." Demon Brat had an annoying smirk stretched across his face. Jason had come to realise, over the short period of time he'd had the displeasure to know the brat, that his default expressions were smirks (if he was happy) or sneers (if he was angry, or feeling anything other than happy).

Apparently he had smiled once or twice, if Dickhead was to be believed, but personally Jason thought he was full of shit.

"Demon Brat, you realise no one cares right?" That was Replacement. Jason leaned his back against the wall, watching the show with mild interest.

"Guys, that's enough," Dick admonished.

'Fucking Golden Boy Goodie-Two-Shoes.'

"Your tone of voice says otherwise," Damian retorted, ignoring Dick.

"Say what you want, Damian."

"I am simply speaking the truth, Drake. I am by far the best Robin."

Tim snorted.

" I will admit that Grayson is a close second, simply due to him being the first of us to carry the mantle. I tossed up between you and Todd for last place, but I suppose Todd's premature death prevented us from truly being able to analyse his failures as Robin. Therefore, I have to say — "

"Okay, not that this isn't fun and all, but what the fuck are you morons doing?"

The conversation halted almost immediately. Both Tim and Damian looked more annoyed than they had been — something Jason wasn't exactly opposed to, since any opportunity to cause these morons pain sounded great to him — but Dick perked up and shot him a wide grin. "Jay!"

Damian slouched in his chair. "Oh Lord no."

"Jason," Tim said, nodding uncomfortably in what Jason guessed was a poor attempt at a greeting.

He rolled his eyes. "Great to see you too. No, I'm not staying long. No, I don't really want to talk to any of you. But let me just ask one question — why the hell are you talking about this while there are people hanging around?"

"Wait, what?" Dick's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Jason sighed. "You know, that woman and man — " He turned to gesture at where they'd been standing, only to find that there was no one there. He shrugged and turned back. "Huh. Guess they left."

Damian glared. "What nonsense are you sprouting, Todd?"

"Nothing." Jason walked over, throwing himself down on the sofa next to the youngest Wayne. Damian let out a noise of displeasure and shuffled away, ignoring Dick's reproachful stare.

"Hey Alfred!" Jason called out. "Is lunch ready?" He was seriously ready to get the hell out of here. He'd promised Alfred, so he'd stick around for a bit, but — Christ this was as painful as he'd thought it'd be. Trust Bruce to pick the most fucked up individuals and bring them together in this shit-show of a 'family.'

Alfred reappeared in the doorway, and shot Jason a patient look. "Not yet. Perhaps you should sit down for a bit, Master Jason, and speak to your brothers. It's been a while since you've all seen each other."

Jason shot a glance at Dick's smiling face, Tim's averted gaze, and Damian's ever-present sneer, and thought, 'no fucking way.'

Dick turned to him. "So Jay — "

"No," Jason said flatly.

"I just want to — "

"No."

"Just — " Dick was getting frustrated. Oh yeah, this was fun.

"Dickhead. No. Shut up."

"Master Jason!"

Jason twitched. "Oh come on! I came here, didn't I? Now can we just eat so I can leave?!"

Damian nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, let's. And then you can go, Todd. You aren't welcome here."

Jason shrugged. "Yeah I will. Thanks kid, it's nice to see someone understands what I want."

Damian let out a series of indignant splutters.

…

He swore he'd heard whispering as he'd left the manor, but he quickly brushed this thought away, because no way was he spending anymore time in that place. Besides, if the man and woman had been intruders, there was no way a house full of Batman's proteges had missed them, especially when they clearly hadn't been putting any effort into hiding.

And if they had, then….well, that was their problem. Jason wasn't wasting any of his time thinking about this.

He came home, went through his usual routine — went out at night and patrolled as Red Hood, checked up with Roy and Kory, and then headed back to his apartment, eager to go to bed. He was tired, and while wondering around in heavy leather and a constricting helmet looked pretty badass, it was uncomfortable as hell.

He'd been lying in bed for about fifteen minutes, drifting off to sleep, when he heard voices coming from his living room. He lay in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling, and wondered if he could just go to sleep. It's not like he had anything valuable in his house, other than his phone and weapons, which were in the bedroom with him. This place was a dump. He had his TV, but it was a piece of shit and on the brink of breaking down for good. Let them have it; it'd just save him a trip to the garbage dump anyway.

The volume increased and Jason let out a groan of frustration. Shit, there was no way he was getting any sleep like this.

He pulled himself out of bed and grabbed his gun from the nightstand, switching the safety off. Muttering curses under his breath, he walked towards the doorway and flung the door open.

For a moment he just stood there, staring. The woman — the same one from earlier that day — was gazing around his living room curiously, while the man sat on his sofa, looking way too comfortable.

The woman was talking to the man — Jason was too busy trying to work out what was going on to really pay attention to what they were saying — and neither seemed to have noticed him standing in the open doorway, his gun pointed in their direction.

"Um, hello?! Want to tell me what the fuck you're doing in my apartment?!"

Their heads snapped in his direction, but rather than looking scared, they looked a mixture of surprised and excited.

"See, Thomas?" the woman exclaimed. "I told you he could see us!" She turned back to Jason and gave him a wide, beaming smile.

The man nodded. "I guess you were right. I just couldn't believe it…no one has ever been able to — "

"What the hell is wrong with you people?!" Jason snapped. "Has anyone ever told you not to ignore someone who's pointing a gun at you?!"

The woman nodded placatingly, still smiling. "Of course, sweetheart. We know that better than anyone."

Oh Jesus, these people were fucking insane. "Then what are you doing?!" He lowered the gun slightly, and then let his hand drop to his side. Sure, they were obviously mentally unstable and had broken into his house, but there was something about them that made him feel uncomfortable about pointing a weapon at them. They didn't exactly seem dangerous, even though Jason knew that looks could be deceiving. Well - if they did attack, no matter how unlikely that seemed at the moment, Jason could probably take them down easily, with or without his gun.

"Who the hell are you people?" he asked. "I saw you at Bruce's place earlier today, and now you're here?" Another thought occurred to him, making him feel even more uneasy: "How did you even find this place?"

Did they know about him? If that was the case, something would have to be done.

The man shrugged. "We followed you."

Oh because that wasn't alarming at all.

The woman walked closer, and Jason watched her with weary eyes. "I know this might be confusing," she said, "but you have to understand — we haven't really spoken directly to anyone in…well, decades. Other than each other, of course. This is so nice…"

Jason pondered this. Hadn't spoken to anyone in decades? Maybe they'd escaped from an mental institution or a prison. Sure their appearances didn't exactly match up, but it wasn't exactly impossible…

Oh shit, the lady was still walking towards him.

"You're so handsome and grown up now — "

"For fuck's sake, get the hell out! Look, you have some shit against Bruce? I don't care. Do what you want to him and those other morons. In fact, that'd be great. But I'd really like to get some sleep, so piss off before I decide to stop being so nice."

The woman just smiled as if she hadn't heard him, and said, "I'm your grandmother."

Jason's eye twitched. "Oh my god you crazy bitch, leave."

She sighed. "Jason, if you'd just let me understand — "

"You're not my grandmother. I've never met my grandparents, but if I did have a grandmother, she sure as hell wouldn't look like you. I don't know how long you've been locked up for, but take a look in a mirror sometime, alright? You don't look nearly old enough to have grandkids."

"I'm Bruce's mother," the woman said, and Christ, this was really pissing him off. He was going to call the old man and give him a piece of his mind after this. Obviously, this was his fault somehow.

"Ha. Okay. I want you to…" And then his voice trailed off, because now that he was really looking at the woman, he was staring to realise exactly why he'd found her so familiar the first time he'd seen her. A quick glance at the man yielded the same conclusion. But there was no way…

Without a word, Jason walked to his room, pulled out his phone, and typed "Thomas and Martha Wayne" into the internet search bar.

For a while he just stared in numb disbelief, and then walked back to the other room. The man and woman - Thomas and Martha fucking Wayne, apparently - were still there, smiling at him.

Dammit, it was way too late to be dealing with this shit.

"You're Bruce's parents," he said flatly, and thoughts of alternate dimensions, and time travel, and lazarus pits, and ghosts filled his mind. Yeah, way too late. Goddammit, this was definitely Bruce's fault.

...

AN:

Just an idea I had that I thought would be fun to write. I probably shouldn't be posting any more chaptered fics at the moment...but I really wanted to write this. And I've never really written Jason as a main character in a chaptered fic before, but I always have such a fun time writing him, that I thought I'd try it for a change. I have a few ideas for this, and it'll definitely have a heap of Batfam bonding. The length will depend on how many people actually end up reading this. This was initially going to be a one shot, but I had way too many ideas for it.

Anyway tell me what you think. Hope you guys enjoy this! And sorry if things are a bit confusing now, but it should get clearer in the next chapter!