Jason went upstairs and headed toward the room that felt both familiar and foreign. For some reason, his steps faltered.
Maybe... he should just go back to the safe house...
Just as Jason hesitated, about to turn around, soft footsteps approached from behind.
Without looking back, Jason knew they belonged to the old man. He had had enough sentimentality for one day and did not want another trip down memory lane with the Old Bat at his bedroom door. It was too late to leave. Gritting his teeth, Jason pushed open the door and stepped inside.
He shut the old man's "good night" outside along with him.
Bruce smiled helplessly. What else could he do? Jason agreeing to come home with him today was already an unexpected joy. How could he ask for more?
"All right, Jason. Good night. Sweet dreams."
Jason leaned back against the door without a word.
The familiar furnishings were exactly as he remembered them. The soft carpet on the floor, where he often sat with a drink and a book; the sheets and pillowcases on the bed, in the pattern he had picked out with Alfred; the little plants on the windowsill, still thriving; the half-finished book on his desk, still sitting there, as though it had been waiting all this time for its owner to return and open it again.
A knock came at the door. It was Alfred.
He carried the Medical Kit, clearly having come specifically to change the dressings on Jason's wounds.
Looking at the old butler's white hair, Jason sat down silently and turned his face aside, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he let Alfred tend to him.
"Master Bruce never says anything, but he often comes here late at night and stays a while. Sometimes he stares