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Jason Todd looked around. It wasn’t quite night yet, and during March— between true winter and spring— the sun still colored the sky a faint blueish-pink at this time. The cave reflected the weather. March’s dampness was a warmer dampness than winter’s smell-less, numbing, skin-clinging damp. Underneath the aggressive chemical scents of bleach, motor oil, and polish, were the earthier, musky scents of sweat, moss, mildew, and bat.
It was silent— at least of all human noises other than those Jason made. He was the only one here at the moment (which was by design.) Bruce was at work, Damian at school, Dick was in Bludhaven, and Tim… he didn’t actually know where Tim was. But it wasn’t here, and that was what mattered. If Jason listened hard enough, he could hear the hum of electronics, the whirring of one of a number of Bruce’s chemical analysis equipment, the faint rumble of the waterfall, the lull of the underground river— unreachable as the river Styx— and the rustling and squeaking of the resident bats. He took a deep breath in and marveled at the clearness of it. There was no arguing, lecturing, laughing, or chatting to distract him. Jason turned to the computer and began typing— the tck tck tck sound interrupting the perfect serenity of his solitude.
“Buuuuurrrrp.” He's only mildly satisfied by the way his burp echoes. A bat or two stir far above on the cave ceiling from his efforts. Jason goes back to typing. But a moment later, his peace is disturbed.
“Excuse you, Jay,” Dick says. Jason does not jump.
“‘xcuse yourself, Dickface,” he mutters back good-naturedly. After a momentary pause, Jason adds, half-question, half-comment, “I thought you were supposed to be in Bludhaven.”
Dick scowls, semi-annoyed, but mostly affectionate. “Surprise visit,” he says. Then he laughs, for no reason.
“What?” Jason grumbles, not sure he wants to hear what’s got his wacky brother all worked up now. Dick can be pretty extra after all...
“Remember that time when—” Dick wheezes, “we had a burping contest, and Bruce judged?”
Despite himself, Jason snorts in amusement. “Fuck yeah, I do.”
…
Jason burps. Loudly. He looks around, half-waiting for Alfred to magically appear and chastise him, “Master Jason! Where are your manners?” Table manners had been a bitch to learn when he first arrived at Wayne manor, and Jason was still working on them. Though he was learning. But it’s just him in the cave at the moment and all he hears is the chittering of the bats and the rumble of the waterfall in the distance.
“Excuse me,” he mutters anyway, to the empty cave. Practice makes perfect, after all.
A snickering sound behind him makes Jason whip his head around sharply, heart pounding, and fists half-raised. Bruce would be proud of his reaction time. Dick is standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, looking amused. “You're excused, Jay,” he says, eyes glimmering.
Jason opens his mouth to fire back, but Dick beats him to it: “That was good.” Dick steps closer, “but I can do better.”
A beat of silence. “Oh yeah?” Jason challenges.
Dick smiles. “Yeah.”
…
“Baaarrp!”
“BURRRP!”
“Brrrrrgp.”
Jason snickers. Dick is bent over, holding his stomach, and laughing uproariously. Jason recovers enough to let out one more enormous belch: “BAARRRPP.”
Dick snatches the edge of Bruce’s desk with one hand and laughs: “AHA-HA-HAH!” The sound echoes off the floor and bounces to the ceiling. A few bats glare down at the noise. One flutters away to try and find some peace. Jason wipes the tears from his eyes.
“WHAT is going on here?” Dick’s eyes become the size of dinner plates. Jason freezes. If he weren’t so scared, he’d laugh at the comicalness of the expression on his older brother’s face. Bruce, who had previously gone unnoticed, is standing at the bottom of the cave staircase, staring piercingly at his two boys. At the responding silence to his question, one of Bruce’s brows arches. Jason gulps and Dick straightens up.
“We were, uh…” Jason stammers, trying to come up with something.
“Just having a burping contest, B, no need to get so excited,” Dick says in that smooth, placating tone that sometimes works. The one that Dick uses to soothe Batman, or to get something he wants. The one Jason can recognize, but not do yet, though he’s tried. Bruce gives them a scrutinizing look. Jason goes dead silent. Dick is giving Bruce that open, earnest stare that seems to increase his special tone’s effectiveness.
After another moment, Bruce sighs, and asks calmly, “Who’s winning?”
Dick cheers, "YES, B!"
Jason, after a moment of surprise, recovers: “I am!”
…
“Burrrrrrppp.”
“Hm. I’ll give that a three out of five.”
“What? That was at least a four! C’mon, B,” Jason protests.
Bruce shakes his head. “No heckling the judge, Jay-lad,” he says, mock-seriously. Both Bruce and Jason turn to Dick.
He takes a deep breath in, and waits, theatrically, until he’s sure that he has his audience’s full attention. “BAAAARRRRPPP!”
Bruce raises an eyebrow, looking impressed. “That’s a four, definitely.”
“Yes!” Dick cheers, pumping one fist.
Jason throws up his hands, disgusted. “WHAT! Seriously, Bruce? That’s favoritism. Mine was better and you know it!”
Bruce opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted. By Alfred.
“Master Bruce. What in heaven’s name is going on here?” Alfred demands, appalled. Dick’s eyes have gone huge again, and Jason’s cheeks are pink. Bruce tenses, standing ramrod-straight. “Masters Richard and Jason,” Alfred rounds on them, the fury of a thousand generations of proper-English-Pennyworth-butlers behind his eyes, “where are your manners? Need I repeat my lessons once more?”
Jason looks pleadingly at Bruce, who is barely holding it together. He recovers enough to take a step forward. Alfred diverts some of his attention to the patriarch of the small (but growing) patchwork family of the Wayne household. Jason and Dick feel relieved. “S-sorry, Al,” Bruce wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes, “but the boys needed someone to judge.”
Alfred does not look amused. His nostrils flare, lips purse, and one eyebrow raises. After a moment of silence, he says, “I see” and walks away. All of them will be facing punishment in some form or another, Jason muses.
Jason, Dick, and Bruce catch each other’s expressions, and snicker.
“Worth it,” Dick says, echoing all of their sentiments.