He rests his head on Bruce's lap, lost in the warmth of old memories, those rare, precious moments when Bruce stayed by his side after he was sick, when patrols were put on hold, and it was just the two of them.

Bruce’s hand gently threads through his hair, a simple touch that stirs a rush of comfort and nostalgia, a bittersweet reminder of how much he’d longed for this. He missed this..the quiet reassurance of Bruce being there, offering solace without words. Today, he let's himself surrender to it, letting the past wash over him.

Looking up at Bruce’s face, he listens to him speak fondly of Jason’s younger days, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

“You’re such a sap, old man,”

he mutters playfully, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. He needed this. the presence of his father, there when it mattered most.