Warning: Angst, cracky ending, epic

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST GET OUT OF MY LIFE?!" Jason yelled, furious, "I never asked for you to bring me into this life, and maybe, I didn't want to be in it in the first place!"

Bruce looked at his son, calculating for a moment.

"And send you where?"

"I don't know! A foster home?!"

"I thought you didn't like foster homes,"

"I'll run away!" Jason was getting more and more confident as the argument went on.

"And live on the streets again? I don't think so," Bruce was finding an argument for every reason Jason threw at him.

"Why not?! I can do just fine on my own!" Jason was starting to get defensive, thinking he was being insulted.

"If I recal correctly-which I do-, that's not the case. The last time you were living on your own, you would've starved to death if I hadn't taken you in," Bruce reminded him. Jason scoffed at this, rolling his eyes as he did so, looking the part of the defiant 17 year old he really was for a moment.

"Yeah, right, like you care about what happens to me. And, I would've been just fine if you had just taken a minute longer to come back," Bruce's eyes widened at this, and his facial expression quickly softened.

"Jay, of course I care about what happens to you. You're my son," Bruce's voice was a lot softer and more caring, now. Jason sneered, clearly not believing a word of it, "Of course you care. Sorry, I forgot the lie that you told everyone to get them off your back. What, I don't even get a special response, like 'I'm just still not used to the thought that you're alive' or anything, Bruce?" Jason was rather heavy on the sarcasm.

"Jay-" Bruce was quickly and efficiently cut off.

"Yeah, now it's 'Jay, forgive me' and 'Jay, I care', but you know what? I don't give a damn, now! I'm not some desperate little street rat, looking for a family, now. I'm done with you, Bruce. You're constantly going back and forth, and I can't handle that right now. In case you haven't noticed, I just came back from the dead." Jason was moving toward the door as he finished his rant, leaving Bruce speechless.

All the sudden, Tim and Damian appeared in the doorway, blocking his exit. Tim carefully looked over the scene before deducing what was going on. He suddenly had a panicked and desperate look on his face.

"Jay, please. Stay." Jason stopped at Tim's pleading face, and begging words.

"Tim, I can't."

"Can't or won't?" It was amazing how intelligent 15 year old Tim was.

"Won't, Tim, won't." At seeing Tim's betrayed and hurt expression, he decided to take a different approach.

"Tim... I'm sorry. This just isn't the place for me right now."

"What? Being with your family just isn't enough? Jason. You need to stop being so selfish. You need to remember that we thought you were dead. That day, we lost a family member. Well, except Damian. But still, Bruce lost a sn. Dick lost his younger brother. Alfred lost a grandson, and I lost my older brother. My role model. My idol. Jason, you were dead, not on a vacation or something." Tim's voice was thick throughout his speech, and by the end he couldn't speak anymore.

All the sudden Dick walked into the room, and hearing th last bit of the conversation, instantly knew what was going on. So he, of course, decided to join in. "And Jay, while you were..." Dick searched for the right words for a moment, "gone, me and Bruce, well, we shut down. I'm fairly sure that we both blamed ourselves for your death," looking up at Bruce, Dick received a nod of agreement, " Jay, it was so tense in the manor. There was no laughter, no joyful teasing. Nothing. We were all still at the point that everything reminded us of you."

"Jason, to us we failed you. We failed to keep you safe. And then we failed to remind ou just how much we love you. We failed to save you, Jay. We weren't there. To us, it's our fault that you died in the first place." Dick's voice lowered to a hurt whisper at the last sentence, tears threatening to run down his face.

All of the sudden, a portal opened, and two gingers who looked pretty much exactly alike flew through it  on-

"BROOMS?! WHAT THE F***?!?! WHO RIDES BROOMS?!?!?!?!?!" Jason yelled, already upset, now just plain angry. And confused. The two gingers looked at each other, smiled, then said in unison, "We're the Weasley twins! We heard you needed a pick me up, so, we brought RED VINES!"

Bruce pulled two bat-a-rangs out and aimed them at the Weasley twins. "Tell me again why you are here." Bruce said it as more of an order than anything else.

"Ooh, Fred, I forgot that he was Batman! Did you happen to remember?" One of them inquired, looking towards the other.

"Nope! Not at all. Wow, we just popped in on the Bat-Family, George." The other-Fred- pointed out.

"Well, we better get back," George started

"So,"

"have some," Fred continued.

"delicious," George grinned, his hand creeping into his bag.

"RED VINES!" They both finished together, throwing some mysterious objects at the group before riding on their brooms, yes brooms, back out of the Manor and through the random portal thingy.

Everyone jumped out of the way, expecting the objects to be some sort of bomb or something.

Bruce cautiously walked up to the 'Red Vines' that the two boys had thrown. He picked one up, sniffed it, smiled, and then- out of nowhere- he ate it. His smile then grew wider and he started to scarf them down.

Jason walked over, picked up a 'Red Vines', sniffed it, smiled, then ate it, and became like Bruce. The rest of the present Bat-Family did the same. To this day, the Bat-Family has a Red Vine addiction.