Jam and Toast
As Bruce held Peter, he could feel the boy's arms start to hang loosely, his head completely resting on his shoulder. “Peter?” the sleeping boy did not respond. Bruce lifted him, his arms holding him tightly as he slowly walked toward Peter’s room.
Jason came out of the cave, heading towards, “Bruce, can-”
“Shh,” Bruce said as softly as he could, whisper-like.
Jason looks at the sleeping boy, lowering his tone to a hushed whisper. "Can I help?" Jason asks softly.
Bruce gave him a soft nod, shifting Peter slightly in his arms. "Open his door for me," he murmured, careful not to disturb the boy. Jason quickly moved ahead, his boots unusually quiet on the floor as he reached the door to Peter's room. Gently, he pushed it open, stepping aside to let Bruce enter. Bruce carried Peter inside, the soft glow of a nightlight casting the room in warm hues. He laid Peter on the bed, carefully tucking the blanket around him. For a moment, Bruce lingered, brushing a stray strand of hair from Peter's face.
Jason leaned against the doorway, watching quietly. “He’s out cold,” he remarked, his voice still low.
Bruce straightened, looking at Peter for a moment before turning toward Jason. “He had a busy day,” he said simply, his tone carrying a mix of exhaustion and affection.
Jason smirked, crossing his arms. “You’re a softie, you know that?”
Bruce raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Instead, he gestured for Jason to follow him out of the room. As they stepped into the hall, Bruce closed the door behind him.
"Only for my kids," Bruce said quietly, a faint but rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. They walk towards the meeting room. The rest of the group talks about the mission as they enter.
“Peter’s okay?” Dick asks. He had removed his blood-covered clothes and now wore a more casual outfit.
“He’s fine.” Bruce's voice was gruff, his Batman voice. It made the whole team, including Damian, who prided himself on never being scared, tense. “Dick. You did something irresponsible today.”
“I know Bruce, I’m-” Dick started, being cut off by Jason.
“Bruce, he’s been through a lot. You’ve been in the same position before.” He places a hand on his shoulder.
“I know that. And I punish myself for it all the time.” Bruce retorted, his judgment not faltering. “Dick, you’ll be training Damian for the week.”
“How's that a punishment?” Damian, who was crouched on a wheelie chair, spinning in circles, asked.
“Please, Bruce, no.” Dick cried, his eye’s never leaving Damian, who was staring at the ceiling, probably wondering if he could climb it as Peter did. “Anything else.”
“Nope, it’s decided. You must bring him on patrol and train him here in the cave.” Bruce decided.
“Not again, please. I can’t work with him as a partner again. He’s too…” Dick thought back to the time when he was playing Batman. He and Damian spent every patrol bickering. But he knew they worked well together. Damian will never listen to a word he says, always deciding to do what he thought was best, often messing up the plan. But Damian will always be his Robin.
“I’m what, Grayson?” Domain, his chair now stopped, staring daggers through his mask.
“My great little brother, who I’m excited to work with,” Dick said sheepishly, nervousness pilling on as he dug himself a deeper hole.
__
The light shines through Peter's window, waking him from his restful night. My arms stretch above my head, the room feeling comforting rather than strange like it had the night before. I head towards the kitchen to try and find Alfred.
“Alfred?” I call out to the surprisingly quiet house. There was no answer. I finally reach the kitchen, pushing the door open slightly—no Alfred. Instead, Jason, the man from last night, sits at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and eating food. “Hello…” Peter says quietly.
“Peter, you up early.” He said, chewing the bite of toast he had in his mouth. “I’m Jason, by the way. I’m Dick’s younger brother. And from what I hear, I’m your older brother now, too?”
“Yeah. Bruce asked me yesterday. I was surprised...” I laugh a little, walking to the table and pulling myself onto the chair.
“You’re quite small.” He remarked, taking another bite of bread.
“I’m a kid,” I say plainly as if my height was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I know that. And you’ll remain small forever if you don’t sleep enough.” He retorts, scarfing down the last bite of his toast.
“I sleep plenty.” I gasp, jokingly placing my hand on my chest.
“You were up at 3 am spying on us, and now you are up at 5 am with me.”
“I don’t sleep well.” I sigh, running my fingers along the table like they were walking.
“Me either. You get nightmares?” He walks over to the kitchen area, cleans up his plate, and puts more toast into the toaster.
“Yeah.” I sigh, sinking into my seat. Peter got nightmares back in New York, his uncle, Tony. Now, he gets nightmares about May, the children, and what happened in the lab. He watches it unfold every night like watching a movie.
“Me too.” Jason said. I wonder what kind of nightmares would wake him up. He seems so strong. Jason placed the toast before me with a quiet thunk, the smell of warm bread and sweet jam filling the air. The house, usually so alive, felt like it was holding its breath. “Here, toast and jam. We should let Alfred catch up on sleep. Everyone else won’t be up for a few hours.”
I nod, grabbing the knife and spreading the jam along my bread. Smiling as my feet kick under the chair. “I agree. He works too hard.”
“Yes, he does,” Jason nods, sipping his coffee while looking at me. My feet swing under me as I take a bite of the food. The room fills with a comfortable silence.
Jason smirks as he leans against the table, coffee mug in hand. “You ever notice how Alfred always seems one step ahead of everyone? Like, it’s borderline supernatural.”
Peter tilts his head, “I think I know what you mean,”
Jason sips his coffee, setting the mug down with a soft clink. “Okay, so picture this: It’s my first week at the Manor. I’m still trying to get used to all the rules, the gigantic house, and Alfred constantly popping up out of nowhere like some kind of butler ninja. Anyway, one night, I decide I’m going to sneak out—just to see if I can, you know?”
Peter nods, his eyes widening. “What happened?”
Jason chuckles. “I thought I was being so slick. I waited until everyone was asleep, tiptoed past Bruce’s study, and made it all the way to the front door without a sound. Just as I’m about to turn the knob, the lights flick on. And there’s Alfred. Standing there. In his robe. With a tray of cookies and two glasses of milk.”
Peter smiles, watching Jason’s face as he relays the story.
Jason grins, shaking his head. “And you know what he told me? ‘Master Jason, I anticipated you’d be feeling restless tonight. A midnight snack seemed appropriate before your inevitable return to bed.’”
Peter laughs a little, his hands now placed on his chair, holding with anticipation. “What did you do?”
“What could I do?” Jason leans back in his chair, smirking. “I sat down, ate the cookies, drank the milk, and sulked all the way back to bed. Never even made it outside.”
“He’s like a magician or something,” Peter says, his face curious about what he could try to get past the butler.
“More like a mind reader,” Jason says, his voice warm. “That man knows us all better than we know ourselves.”
“He let me win at chess yesterday. He says I beat him, but I doubt it.”
“Alfred doesn’t let people win.” He laughs a little. Peter takes the last bite of his food, climbs down from his chair and heads to the sink. He grabs hold of the counter and pulls himself up by one hand, putting the plate with Jason's. “Peter. I don’t think you understand how strong you are.” He sighs, drinking his coffee more.
“I do. I’m always holding back so I don’t break stuff.” Peter says while dropping to the floor and walking back over to Jason. “When I first got my powers, I broke a sink in half.” Peter thought back to when he first got his powers. When his body first got his powers in the lab. It was scary for the little boy. He didn’t know what was happening.
444’s body reeled in pain, his arms and legs shaking as he all but dragged himself to the bathroom. The other kids were asleep. He leaned against the sink, his hands holding the porcelain like it might save him.
He had watched many kids go through this process.
The kids all knew that if this happened, you’d die.
444 looked at his reflection, his hands not releasing the sink as he puked up what little food he had. Then his head felt like it would explode, his knuckles turning white as he cried in pain. He tried to pull his hands from the sink. He wanted to lie down and die. He was done fighting it.
His hands wouldn’t let go, the porcelain sticking to him like he’d been glued down. He fought the sink, his arms pulling away with as much strength as he could muster. The sound of the sink cracking filled the bathroom, and then, with a loud noise, half the sink came flying off. Peter is thrown backwards and falls to the floor. His head hit the wall.
“It worked… The kid survived the transformation!” Peter was strapped to the bed. The room was white, and the scientists were looking over a chart. Excited looks on their faces. Peter grips the straps on his arms, his forearms hurting. He pulls and rips them right out of the bed. Sitting up and looking at the scientists. The man in the back holds up a gun, pointing it at Peter. “We’ll need stronger restaurants for this one…”
Jason waved his hand in front of Peter. “Peter? Are you alright?” A silence. “How about we head to the cave, and I show you something cool?”
“Alright…” Peter got out of his chair, walking side by side with Jason as they headed to the cave.
Jason took Peter to the training part of the cave, where a set of rings hung about a foot apart, ten feet off the ground. “Ready?” Jason asks, looking over at Peter, whose eyes have not left the equipment.
“What are you gonna do?” Peter asks, his head tilted up at Jason now.
“You’ll see.” Jason chuckled. He walks just under the rings, looking up and positioning himself. He crutches down slightly before jumping up and grabbing the bars. Peter observed, surprised at the buff man's abilities. Jason pulled himself up into a T-shape, then using only his arms, he flipped himself around. Performing a feat of strength and agility. After flipping for a while, he jumps down, landing exactly how you would expect a hero to land.
“That was pretty awesome!” Peter said excitedly, almost jumping up and down. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Dick taught me while I was Batman’s Robin. I didn’t get good for a long while.” He sighed, walking towards Peter.
“Can I try?” Peter asks, looking up at the bars.
“Umm, I’m not sure. Didn’t Bruce say you weren’t allowed to train or something?” He sits on the crushed part of the floor, his head now closer to Peter's height.
“This isn’t training, I just want to try.” Peter groaned, his arms crossing over his chest. Jason looked behind him as if checking his father wasn’t standing there to yell at him.
“Fine, but I’m gonna stand under you just in case.” He stood back up, grabbed Peter’s hand and headed to the rings. He went to pick Peter up to help him to the rings.
“No. I got it!” Peter protested, lining himself up with the rings. He planted his feet, bent his knees, and jumped. He reached up, and for a moment, he believed he would grab the bars, but his hand just about misses it. Instead, he started to fall, Jason getting ready to catch him.
Peter shot his web from his hand, climbing up it to the bars.
“Nice work, Peter!” Jason yells from the floor. Peter holds both bars in his hand, trying to flip himself around like Jason did. He has the strength to do so but is unsure how to start. Instead, he just starts swinging back and forth and using the momentum to flip around. “Hell yeah!” Peter then looks down, Jason ready to catch him. He lets go and falls into Jason’s arms.
“That was fun!” He yelled, hoping out of Jason’s arms.
“You’re not bad either! You should ask Dick to help you next time. He’s the real pro.” Jason holds his hand up, and Peter jumps up and gives him a high-five.
“Master Jason.” They look back, Alfred standing there, arms held in front of him. Jason freezes like a deer in headlights.
“Alfred…” He says, his face turning into a nervous-looking grin. “We were just playing around…” He laughs, not at anything funny but out of nerves.
“I can see that.” He says, making Jason sway his body weight from one foot to another, looking between the floor and Alfred. “He’ll need a smaller one for practice. We wouldn’t want him to get hurt.” Jason let out a sigh of relief.
“Yes! Great idea. Alfred!” He starts walking towards the main cave area. “Well, best be heading back now! I'll come to visit soon, okay Alfred?” He starts heading to his motorcycle, his pace fast, trying to get out of this situation, quickly grabbing his helmet and starting the engine.
“I would appreciate being able to see you again, Master Jason,” Alfred says, watching Jason climb atop his bike. “I really do miss you around the house.” He watches as Jason begins to ride out the cave door, which is opening for him.
“Goodbye, Peter! Bye, Alfred!” With that, he was gone.