Four Times Bee Called Jason "Dad" on Accident, and One Time They Didn't

1

         The first time Bee called Jason “Dad” was long before he had officially adopted them and their little Crew.

         They had been severally injured in a fight. A fight that Jason had told them to stay out of. A fight they should’ve been far away from at the ripe age of fifteen. Did he lose his temper a little? Yes. Could he have handled it better? Also yes. Does he regret it? Slightly.

         “I told you, ‘Stay out of this fight’. What did you decide to do? Be the fucking hero and try and do something you aren’t ready for! Now look what happened! You’re bleeding out on the sidewalk, I don’t have supplies to patch you up, and the crooks got away! You shouldn’t be anywhere near this! You’re lucky I don’t fire you for disobeying my fucking orders!” Jason was ranting to them. He wasn’t actually angry with them, but he sure as hell was worried out of his goddamn mind. God, was this how Bruce felt when he was Robin?

         Then Bee mumbled something that made him freeze. He kept moving, of course, but his rant stopped abruptly.

         “Sorry, dad…Jus’ wan’ed tah help…” Their voice was slurred and tired, and they were leaning heavily against him, fatigue making their accent thicker, but he still understood the words. Specifically the second one. Dad.

         He decided not to bring it up. If he was slightly more protective over The Crew after that? That was his business and his alone.

2

         Bee was caught in the middle of a Scarecrow attack.

         It was supposed to be a routine patrol. Nothing crazy was supposed to happen. Even worse, they hadn’t gotten their rebreather on in time to avoid breathing in the Toxin. So now they were listening to their brother remind them that it was their fault, that they should’ve been better, that they should’ve been there-

         Someone was gently touching their shoulder. Instantly they lashed out, trying to keep Him away. Nonononononono-

         “Hey. Kid. Kid. Do you understand me right now? Can you hear me?” They…they knew that voice. That voice was safety. That voice meant help and protection. They didn’t know his name, but they knew the owner of the voice was kind to them. They sobbed and reached toward the voice, unable to find him beyond the darkness. They felt familiar arms gently pull them closer and against his chest. They could hear his heartbeat.

         “I see him. He’s-it’s my fault. It’s my fault. I should’ve been there-” Bee was rambling. A nervous habit they had picked up in childhood and had worked hard to break.

         “Hey. No. Listen to me. It isn’t your fault, okay? Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t have to be a hero.” Oh. They knew who he was now.

         “Please stay. Please. I don’t-I can’t-he’s so loud.”

         “I’m not going anywhere, kid. Promise.” The arms tightened, and Bee sobbed in relief at the promise. He didn’t break his promises. He didn’t. He never did.

         “Thank you. Thank you so much.” They repeated that over and over, even when they heard an ambulance show up. They curled deeper into the safety and promise, but they were gently pulled away.

         “I’m not going anywhere. They’re just gonna give you something that’ll make you feel better. I’m right here, promise.” The arms unwound from them, and before they could even start panicking, they felt gloved hands gently lay on their own palms. They instinctively started feeling the texture of the gloves, the dips of the hand beneath the cloth, everything. He wasn’t leaving. He was right there.

         The antidote slowly took effect, and Bee had never felt more drained before. They could barely think as they leaned against Hood and closed their eyes.

         “Go to sleep, kid. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was gentle. Safe.

         “Thanks, dad…” they mumbled, succumbing to sleep before they could register Hood’s surprised tensing and subsequent (albeit hesitant) hair ruffle.

         Bee couldn’t look Hood in the eyes for the next week of work. He didn’t bring it up.

3

         Bee looked…shitty, to put it bluntly. Their usually pronounced eye bags looked like they had carry-ons strapped with them, and they were more sluggish than usual. All signs that they were tired as fuck. Probably because of the time of year. This time usually made them stay up for days on end before crashing. Jason would know. He’d been employing them and their motley crew for years and living across the hall from them for a few months now.

         So, he decided to do something about it.

         Jason managed to catch Bee in the hallway, arms crossed and looking serious. He was already intimidating to normal people, but Bee never seemed to be fazed by his build and RBF. Probably because they were used to facing people three times their size and powerset, but whatever.

         “You’re not sleeping.” Beating around the bush was no use with Bee. They’d just avoid the topic for as long as they could. “Don’t even lie, because everyone’s noticed.”

         “I’m fine. Just dealing with some shit. I’ll be normal within a week or two.” He knew that. But would he be letting it go? No, no he would not. This was his kid worker. It was his responsibility to make sure that they were healthy.

         “Bullshit. I’m talking with boss to give you time off for a while so you can deal with your ‘shit’.” So what if he was actually their boss? What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

         “You better not!” God, what was it with them and refusing to take time off? It was like they thought they were a machine.

         “Already decided. I’m betting Boss will agree with me on this one. If you don’t want me to tempt him with three weeks of paid leave, you better get your ass in your apartment and into your bed.” Jason didn’t care if he had to drag their scrawny ass there, they would be sleeping tonight. Or at least resting.

         Bee mumbled something about him being a “goddamn snitch” before grumpily tearing off their mask and opening the apartment door, storming inside. Jason followed them in and stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched them. “You gonna just stand there, or are you gonna leave? I’m in the apartment.”

         “I don’t trust you to not get up and leave. I’m staying here until the morning.” Jason didn’t mention that he knew they had nightmares around this time of year and wanted to be there in case one happened.

         Happen one did, because not even an hour after they had gone to sleep, they were stumbling out of their room, rubbing their scarred arms and sporting tearstained cheeks. Jason was on the couch at the time, so he was vaguely prepared for a situation like this.

         “Wanna talk about it?” Okay, Jason sucked at the whole “talk about it” thing, but that’s what you did when someone was freaking out, right? Bee shook their head, walking over to him with bleary eyes and slotting themself next to him. They buried their head into his side and sighed deeply, exhaustion in their voice. “Y’know, you could warn a guy before bombarding him with cuddles.” Jason was trying to joke around, but internally, he was freaking out. Bee didn’t like surprise contact. Especially when they were worked up. They preferred initiating contact or approving contact. Even the simplest of back pats could send them spiraling on a bad day. To have them willingly curl up against him like a needy cat? Especially when they were so close to That Day? He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

         Slowly and awkwardly, Jason put an arm around Bee’s shoulders. When they didn’t react poorly, he kept it there. They let out a tired mumble, and he hummed in response. “Care to speak up?” His voice was teasing, but still gentle. He couldn’t find it in him to be harsh at the moment.

         “Said night, dad…” Jason tensed slightly at the mumbled words, still just as surprised with them calling him “dad” seriously as every other time. He slowly relaxed and gently squeezed them, not even bothering to tease them about it.

4

         Bee was stressed out.

         Okay, it was really their fault that they were this stressed, but it was still stressful!

         They had asked Jason to teach them how to cook something, and everything spiraled from there. Now, they were in the kitchen, Jason trying to tell them how to do it, and they were stressed.

         “No, this recipe is wrong! You can’t just put-” Jason was rambling about something to do with the recipe, but Bee was barely listening. They didn’t really understand cooking, anyway. At least with baking, they had set instructions. There was a lot more room for error in cooking. Error that they usually made.

         “You see, this is why I’m not allowed in the kitchen.” They tried for humor, but Jason didn’t seem to notice.

         “What the hell do they mean, ‘don’t bother adding salt’? You need salt!” Okay, this was stressful. Was cooking always this stressful? Mat usually did it pretty calmly. Maybe he was stressed about something else? Oh god, did they do something to stress him out??

         “Um…is cooking always this…intense?” They fidgeted slightly, trying to figure out what was going on. Did they do something? Please say that they didn’t.

         “The recipe is wrong,” Jason hissed, glaring at the cracked tablet screen.

         “Um…we could try my mom’s recipe? It’s just ‘throw random shit in,’ though.” Maybe that’d help? Being able to take creative liberties?

         “No! This recipe is wrong, and I’m going to fix it!” Oooookay.

         “Uh…have fun, dad.” Both parties froze once Bee said it, Jason slowly turning to them. Then, they did what they do best: Deflect and escape. “Would you look at that? Guess I have to go take care of my knife collection. Bye!” And with that, they made their great escape, leaving Jason dumbfounded in the kitchen.

         Why did they say that?! Jason wasn’t even fatherly with them! Sure, MAYBE people CLAIMED he was as Hood, but he wasn’t! He was just a decent employer!

+1

         Maybe being fairly public now was a bad idea.

         Bee hated that cameras would randomly photograph them and reporters would shove microphones in their face. God, it was annoying. Especially since Finch came back. Somehow. That just made it worse.

         Bee was kind of…well, not forgotten, but put on the back burner that Finch liked more “feminine” clothes. He was still sure he was a boy, he just happened to be a boy who liked dresses and skirts. What was bad about this? Nothing. But it did mean a lot of people had a lot to say.

         “Mx. Taggart-Drake! Mx. Taggart-Drake!” Here we go again.

         They turned around, watching the young reporter flinch slightly at their face. Fucking Inner Gothamites. “Could you make it quick? I have to pick Finch up.”

         “Well, there have been several pictures of you with a man, and we wanted to know your relations to him.” The reporter sounded out of breath. Did they seriously run over here?

         “I need more than ‘a man’. What’s he look like?”

         “Um. Tall. Muscular. Dark hair with a white streak?” Oh. Jason.

         “Oh yeah. That’s Jason.”

         “What is your relation with him?”

         “He’s my dad?” The statement had slipped out originally, but…Bee didn’t find they minded it anymore. “Well, adoptive. He recently adopted me and my friends. And Finch.”

         “Hang on-he’s your adoptive father?! How long has this been kept a secret? When did the documents get finalized? When-” The reporter started to bombard them with questions, and they just sighed.

         “I’m gonna be late to pick up Finch from a playdate. Can we wrap this up?” The reporter sheepishly nodded and Bee turned away, mulling over everything.

         If the news broke a few weeks later that the Drake family recluse was now adopted and Jason read it? So what? So what if he genuinely smiled at the headline after doing a double take? It’s not any of your business.