[ The silence between them, as they both gaze out into the night, as he contemplates his own thoughts and she's left with hers, isn't a cloying or oppressing one. Even though he isn't the Bruce of her own world, this is still the same: being able to sit together, even in silence, companionable.

But then his voice comes, soft and careful, and she looks to him as she listens, as he picks out the words. Makes his confession.

All of it aching in her own chest, for all of them. For Dick, shouldering more than he should; for the two versions of Jason who only seem to see the things they hate about themselves in each other. For the younger boys, only a few years past their own arrivals at Wayne Manor. ]

Shutting yourself off from them isn't the answer, Bruce.

[ She'd told Jason, that day before they left, and she tells it to him now. ]

You need them. And they need you, however much they might not want to admit it.

And there's still time.

[ Time to reach out, to get to know them, to let them know him. ]

Don't be alone anymore.