Lunch couldn't have taken longer.
Dick brought them to a sit down Chinese buffet a few blocks away, all Dick's treat of course. He talked and talked and ate and talked, all the while Jason picked at his food, his mind scrambling, running through a million scenarios where Damian was missing or hurt or...well he didn't allow himself to think too far ahead. During some of Dick's rambling he genuinely tried to listen, get his mind off of Damian but it didn't work. Everything Dick said somehow brought him back to his thoughts of Damian. He hadn't fed him, he probably needed a shower and clothes. Jason's eyes widened incredulously, he'd had Damian for almost two days, and the only thing he had him in was a sheet. He didn't know what size Damian was, and he didn't really like the idea of going shopping. He looked down at his plate, his mind buzzing.

"Do you still have some of Damian's clothes?", the words were out before he could filter them. He tensed up, his head shot up to look at Dick.

His face was an amalgamation of emotions. But pain showed the most. He tried to keep his eyes from watering and he set down his chopsticks. Jason knew he did. Damian's room was untouched. Alfred wasn't even allowed to clean it. But he knew he shouldn't have asked. Damian was a severe touchy subject. Dick didn't want him to have died completely, so he brought him up every now and then, but it was sure to attract silence.

"Uhm.", Dick cleared his throat, "Yeah, I still have some of his stuff. Why?", his voice was wavering but his hands were steady.

"Shit, D, I'm really sorry,", Jason offered weakly, "It's just...there's this kid in my building and he could use some clothes and uh..you know what, never mind,". This was a fucked up lie on top of a fucked up question.

"No it's fine,", Dick smiled now, "Uhm..I have some shirts...they're just sitting in the closet, I don't think Damian would have minded..I'll swing by later in the week."

Now he felt like shit. Of course the clothes were for Damian, he hoped that maybe the clothes would be a reminder, an anchor like, to at the very least calm him down. But now he obviously upset Dick, and that was something he never really liked doing. But on the sick upside, he was going to get Damian some actual clothes.

The rest of their lunch went on, awkward air between them. He didn't get to finish eating, his appetite leaving him, but he got it to go so maybe Damian would try to eat.
Dick offered to walk him home, but Jason declined. They left the restaurant with a gawky half hug.
When Jason was sure that Dick was properly gone around the corner, he clenched his takeout bag tightly and broke out into a run. It took them twenty minutes to walk, but it only took Jason five minutes to run. He ran through the red lights, sliding across the hoods of passing cars, until he was back in his building, skipping every second stair to get to the top.
His first instinct was to kick down the door but a quick thought prevented him, and he rummaged through his jeans to find the keys.
When he threw the door open, his immediate thought was to locate Damian. The problem was, he expected his apartment to be in the same state he left it.
Almost everything that could be flipped over was. The television was broken, random pieces of glass were scattered across the floor. The tap in the bathroom was left on, water pouring over the edges of the sink. Old food containers left in the fridge now scattered the kitchen floor, causing a questionable stench to waft through the warm room.

"Damian?", he called out, closing the door behind him. He stepped over the knocked over side table in his path, "Damian where are you?"

He had to talk himself out of ripping through the place. He didn't want to scare Damian off. He'd already obviously had a violent fit, he didn't need to be making it worse by flipping through everything.
Jason scanned through the living room, the bathroom, the hallway closet and the kitchen. He wasn't in the house. He headed back into the living room to check the side window to the balcony. He was sure he'd locked it, but it didn't matter once he realized it was broken. The ladder to the stairs was up, and they were on the third floor. He dreaded to think how Damian got down, or if he managed to get down. He popped his head out of the window, and to his instant relief, he found Damian sitting with his knees to his chest, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

"Jesus, Little D, you gave me a scare.", he rested his elbows on the balcony, his eyes on Damian.
He was looking far off, his skin incredibly pale almost grey. Whatever fit he was having before seemed to have passed now. "I brought back some lunch, why don't you come and eat?"
Damian didn't say anything, but he stood up and crawled back though the window. Jason managed to get him to the kitchen table and unpacked the leftover food.

"I don't know what you like, but I just really hope you're not allergic to anything. There's chicken fried rice, dry garlic spareribs, uhm I think that's chow mein and this is breaded shrimp. It's not very hot and I apparently no longer own a microwave,", he looked over his shoulder disdainfully at the broken microwave, "but it's warm and it's food so uhm..", he stepped back and reached for a fork on the counter. "here.", he handed him the utensil, "eat up."

Damian took the fork slowly and eyed it. He made no expression, his eyes were still glossed over with his inner thoughts, but he looked down at the food as if deciding what to do with it. He didn't look to Jason for help, and instead of pushing himself into the situation he chose to relocate.

"Alright,", he said backing away, "I'm actually going to find you something other than that sheet to wear and then I guess I'll start cleaning."
He wasn't expecting an answer, but lingered just in case. He offered a smile instead and retreated to his bedroom. Unlike the rest of the apartment his room was untouched. It was odd considering he'd left the door open, but everything was just where he left it. He made a mental note to look into that after. For now he made his way over to his dresser and shuffled through the drawers briefly before pulling out a moth eaten AC/DC t-shirt. It was big, but it would do. He moved to the drawer above and pulled out a pair of boxers, and grabbed a stranded elastic from intop of the dresser. It wasn't fancy, but it would do.
He tucked the small bundle under his arms and made his way back into the kitchen. Damian hadn't moved. The fork he had set down remained where it was and if he hadn't taken a closer look, he'd have thought the food untouched. But in the tiny bucket of shrimp a few were missing. Jason almost got excited that he was eating, but the chunky pile of vomit on the floor stated otherwise. His face fell and he let out a slow sigh.
His body wasn't regenerating properly, if he wasn't keeping down food. By all accounts he should be starving. He didn't know where Damian came back from, or how long it took him to get back to Gotham, but he needed to get him a full evaluation from a doctor but that was impossible. Anybody he went to would surely go to Bruce and he didn't even want to imagine how that would go.

"Okay, so lunch isn't an option right now. We'll try again later.", he placed the pile of clothes onto the table and pulled out Damian's chair, "Let's get you dressed."

He picked him up and set him down on his feet. Jason pulled the sheet away gently, and dressed Damian in the over sized t-shirt. Damian wordlessly stepped into the boxers and stood still as Jason tied off the excess material with the elastic.

"There,", he stood back, "It's not the best but it will do for now.", he ran his fingers through Damian's greasy hair with a sad smile. "We'll get you flying again, little D."

He thought Damian might smile, but he didn't get the opportunity to see it go through as his pants began to vibrate against his leg. With a curse under his breath, he stood up and pulled the phone out of his pocket. He read Dick's name across the small screen. Jason walked into his bedroom, and closed the door behind him. He wasn't sure if Damian hearing Dick would go over well. He'd have him swallow that pill slowly.

"Dick, we literally just saw each other not even forty minutes ago,"

"Jason,", his voice was rushed, was he crying? "Jason, Damian's alive!"

A/N I'm really sorry this took so long. My weekend seeped in to my week and I'm just getting things back on track. Expect regular updates from here on out. Reviews are welcome!