While the relationship with Sheik Abdullah and Kamala had become less strained over the years, so much that in fact the teenager actually saw him as something of a really wise uncle. She had to admit that the man still had blindspots. That wasn't an insult, he just lacked some tact that's all, and perhaps he could use someone to help him to handle newcomers at themasjid, especially younger ones.

Kamala was thinking of going to get something to eat after the annual food drive at the mosque ended, but she found herself accidentally making eye contact with someone that seemed familiar.

It was a young boy, probably not older than fifteen, he had light green eyes, sepia brown skin and messy dark black hair. One could notice at first sight that he was new here as he seemed to be unsure of what to do by slowly balancing his body and looking everywhere as if he was inspecting the place. When the other boy took notice of her, he squinted, as if he had also seen her before and was too, trying to figure out how they knew each other.

Kamala stayed put, watching him, trying to recognize where he had seen him before. Her mouth almost fell off as he realized...he was one of the sons of Bruce Wayne.

Right at that moment Sheik Abdullah tapped the boy's shoulder, making him turn around and subsequently shake his hand.

The older teenager stayed where she was: that kid was practically a celebrity and, to her judgement at least, a local cryptid. He had just popped in the news one day claiming he was the "blood son" of Bruce Wayne, a literal billionaire, and that he was here to stay and everyone in New Jersey just...accepted it. Truly strange.

And now the boy was in their local mosque, talking to Sheik Abdullah like it was nothing and wearing a thawb.

"Are you still here Kamala?" The aforementioned girl turned around and saw her best friend, Nakia, staring at her Tyesha who was rather amused.

"Oh yeah, sorry," she scratched the back of her head apologetically. "Did you know Damian Wayne is muslim?"

"What?" Nakia looked behind her friend. "Huh, what do you know…oh oh it seems like Sheikh Abdullah is in 'the zone."

"Oh that poor kid." Tyesha commented.

Kamala turned around and saw how the boy was smiling politely at the Sheikh but his eyes seemed to indicate that he would rather go home already. To which Kamala was sympathetic to. She decided to go towards them and "gently intervene" for the sake of the kid's brain not exploding from all the information the older man was probably dumping onto him.

"Hello!" Kamala said in her commonly chirped tone, looking straight at the boy's eyes and then turning around to Sheikh Abdullah. "And good day to you, Sheik Abdullah."

"Ah, sister Kamala." he said. "Just who I wanted to see."

"Wait, really?" she tilted her head, she was starting to regret this as she felt a lecture coming.

"Yes," he took a step back so she could see Damian better. "Kamala, this is Damian Wayne Ibn Al Ghul, he has decided to join us at the food drive today. Damian, this is Kamala Khan."

Kamala offered her hand and Damian shook it. The girl could notice that he didn't seemed like the outspoken boy he had seen in the tabloids, he seemed more reserved.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, Kamala nodded.

"Nice to meet you too," she answered, surprised by the politeness of the boy he had previously thought of as aggressive.

"Damian is a new convert, " Sheikh Abdullah explained. "His mother is from the Emirates but she doesn't practice thedeen. We were just having an interesting talk but I wouldn't want to bore him to death, so I considered that maybe you could help him get accustomed to how everything works around here? If it's not too much trouble."

Spending time with the local billionaire cryptid? That didn't sound so bad. And Kamala was flattered that Sheik Abdullah thought of her. No more than 3 years ago she had thought he hated her.

"Yeah, no problem!" she said. "Is that alright with you?"

"It is perfectly fine with me, " he said.

"Great!" she pointed at the front door. "Do you like falafel?"

About thirty minutes later Kamala, Tyesha, Nakia and Damian found themselves at Al-Basha, the best place to eat in Jersey. They managed to get a table next to the window where they could see the people walking and hear the sounds of the street.

"So, what did you think of the service, Damian?" Kamala asked while whipping his mouth clean with a napkin.

"It was great," he admitted. "It's hard to explain but I felt great at giving something back to the community."

"It is very rewarding, " Tyesha agreed. "How long have you been converted, Damian?"

"Well," He said. "About two weeks but I've been studying the teachings for about five years now."

"You started to learn when you were ten?" Nakia asked, surprised.

"Well yes, I...went through sort of a...experience that left me wanting to learn more about it, a sort of life and death situation."

"Really?" Kamala asked with her mouth full, she swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Damian said, changing the subject. "I'm glad I reached this point."

Kamala was about to talk when she was suddenly interrupted by someone screaming, she turned around and looked out of the window, people were running through the streets and screaming. And there was a smog of clouds forming that was beginning to cover the block.

"Uh, umm sorry Damian I just remembered I have to-" Kamala started to fabricate an excuse when she turned around and saw the boy was gone.

"Did anyone watch him leave?" she asked and both women shrugged in shock.

She would figure it out later, She had a job to do.


Damian barely had time to get changed in an old telephone booth (He remembered to thank Jon later and also wondered why there was still a telephone booth in Jersey in the first place) before he could jump into action and see what was the deal with the whole with that mysterious mist.

He came into the main street and saw all the people running from the fog. People were screaming and falling into the ground. A particular young girl slipped into the ground and Robin ran straight to her to assist her and gave her back to her mother.

He looked up and deduced that the brown by the colour of the smog that Scarecrow had probably escaped out of Arkham and was causing all this mayhem. He just had to find him and beat him back to prison.

Damian took his sai, an oxygen mask out of his utility belt (Thanks Baba) and ran head straight into the mist, looking for the villain. While getting more and more into the city, with the buildings and the subways, he realized that the smog was coming from under the city from the air vents located in almost every block.

"Great," Damian said. "I'll have to get my boots wet with sewer water."

He continued to run and three blocks away he found a sewer entrance in the middle of the street. He picked up the lid and after giving himself a small mental encouragement he jumped inside.

On reflection he should have at least looked before he jumped in.

Damian felt he had fallen on something hard but quickly realized that something was actually a person and was currently sitting on top of them.

"Ouch!" the person said." What the-...Robin?"

Damian jumped out of them and his eyes widened upon seeing who it was: "Ms. Marvel?"The older teenager frowned and got up. She was also wearing an oxygen mask although it seemed of lower quality to the one that Robin had.

"What are you doing here?" they both said at the same time. Pointing at each other.

"This is my town!" she said.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Last time I checked it was called 'Jersey City', not Ms. Marvel-ville."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "No wonder no one likes bats."

"I don't care what you Marvels think of me," he spated. "I'm just here to beat scarecrow's ass back to jail."

"Well that makes two of us." she crossed her arms. Damian rolled his eyes again.

Robin sighed and just resigned his fate to the fact that he would have to tolerate Ms. Marvel for the whole trip to whenever Scarecrow was. If he knew anything about her, it was that she was stubborn. A quality he actually both respected and found completely unbearable.

Both teenage superheroes kept walking through the sewers, straight to the dot in the toxins radar that Robin had (thanks again, baba). Trying to keep quiet because if any of them dared to make a snarky comment they would surely end with a shoe on their face. Simply put, Ms Marvel didn't want to deal with a kid ninja, and Robin didn't want to deal with a giant hand stamping him into a wall. So they just had to frown, bear and stare at each other deadly.

After hours of waffling around, Damian barely managed to get the smell of the sewers from his uniform and body. He slumped into his bed and groaned. He was angry that him and Ms. Marvel hadn't found anything, even after looking for hours.

When they reached the place where the dot was in the radar they only had managed to see a small, empty grenade of Scarecrow gas in the middle of the sewer map, where all the pipes connected and all the water fell.

Damian turned his head around and looked at the device standing on his nightstand. He had to convince Ms. Marvel that Batman could clearly examine the evidence better than ten avengers (which was true) to even have it. For some reason the girl had taken offence to that and just said "Fine, I'll figure it out myself, I don't need your help."

"Clearly," Damian had responded before being stamped into the wall by a giant hand.

"Stupid girl." he thought. Immediately after it his cell phone started to vibrate on his pocket. He took the call.

"Damian?" his eyes widened at the feminine voice on the other side of the line and coughed.

"Oh, hello Kamala," he said, scratching his head while looking for an excuse "I'm sorry I had to leave so early today."

"It 's okay! I just hoped that you arrived at your house safely, it's been a crazy day." she laughed a little.

"Tell me about it," he agreed.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

Damian coughed again. "You should let me repay you for the falafel we had today."

"Oh, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it." Kamala assured him.

"I insist," he said. "If you need a favor, you can ask me."

There was another pause.

"Actually, there's something you can do for me," Kamala said after a while "Do you know how to cook?"

"I...manage to get by." Damian said. "Why?"

"Well…" The boy could practically feel how the girl was rubbing the back of her head over the phone. "Me, my mom and brother are going to make a special dinner for my abbu and we could use another pair of hands around the house."

"Oh," Damian swallowed bilis. "I see."

"You know what, that's a lot to ask from someone I just met," Kamala apologized. "Just forget about it and-

"No, I would love to help." Damian interrupted her.

"Really?"

"I mean it," he promised. "I...never got to cook with my parents, I...I would love to join you in this."

"Oh...great!" she chirped. "I'll text you the address."

Damian hung up after saying his goodbyes and smiled, warmly.