Chapter 22: Worst roommate

A mild breeze mixed the musty damp forest air as the first birds already greeted the new day and light mist wove through the tree trunks.

Jon winced a little as a June bug flew against his nose, startling him out of his sleep. Surprised, he looked around.

Foliage graced the damp ground as his fingers roamed over it in confusion before the boy wondered what he was even doing in this forest.

He scratched his head awkwardly as something white crossed his field of vision.

The blue eyes looked at the inscribed bandage covering his arm and as if a switch had flipped, he remembered everything that had happened a few hours ago.

Jon's eyes snapped open in shock at the first rays of sunlight that were already heralding the new day. Desperately, the Kryptonian clasped his hands in his curly hair before stammering anxiously:

"Crap! I've fallen asleep. Oh, God, I'm dead. I'm so dead! Mom is guaranteed to kill me for being out all night. Maybe it's not too late."

Jon stood up and frantically pulled back his sleeve to look at his wristwatch. What he saw only sealed his fate even more. Jons features slipped from his face:

"Half past seven?! Oh God I'm definitely dead!"

He knew that his mother would wake him up at seven at the latest. That definitely blew his cover. Damn, why did he have to be so stupid and fall asleep in this forest.

Resignedly, Jon slipped his sleeve over his watch again and scratched the back of his neck, resigned to his fate. Well, he was used to getting into trouble by now. Probably a head butt, then a lesson from his angry mother about how wrong his behavior was and that he shouldn't copy anything from Damian, followed by the pitiful attempts of his father to add something and after a few days things probably calmed down.

Jon looked at the inscription 'Thank you partner', which adorned his bandage. The injury must have already healed for the most part because he felt almost no pain anymore.

He just hoped Damian would be okay and knew what he was doing. Even Jon could see the danger his friend was about to put himself in. Not only was Batman now behind him, and thus probably the League, but Richard wasn't exactly save either. He had finally experienced this fact on his own body.

But Jon could also worry about Damian's whereabouts later. For now, he should not waste any more time and rather fly home quickly. He could still simply say that he had admired Damian's sword and that it had slipped out of his hand. Then he fell asleep, where Damian is, no idea, and so on and so forth. He can think up the exact story on his way home.

Jon was about to push himself off the ground when powerful legs hit the forest floor behind him and the boy repeated mentally:

*Please not Dad. Please not Dad!* like a mantra before the deep voice confirmed to him who it was:

"Jonathan!"

Jon turned hesitantly to face his father, and he cursed his luck at that moment. Goodbye well-prepared excuse and hello deep trouble.

Shyly he still tried to save the situation:

"D-Dad what a coincidence. I was just on my way home."

Jon flinched as his father approached him with energetic steps, and the boy was already squinting his eyes in anticipation of a telling off. But to Jon's surprise, there was none. Instead, his father just knelt down and hugged him tightly, saying:

"Thank goodness, you're all right."

Jon's mouth could not form words in confusion. The boy had not expected this reaction at all.

Finally, the father released his son and looked at him more closely, relieved at first, before his brows drew together seriously at the sight of the bandage. Clark inquired and pointed to the piece of cloth:

"What is that?"

Jon's body tensed and, he couldn't look his father in the eye. Nervously, he answered:

"Um...nothing bad. Damian was showing me how to put on a bandage and I just fell asleep while he was doing it."

The wrinkles in Clark's forehead visibly deepened:

"Jon, you know you're not supposed to lie. I saw Bruce's Cave and Dick as well as Damian are gone. So tell me the truth. Especially for Damian's sake."

Resignedly, Jon closed his eyes. He really didn't like lying to his parents and his father already knew half the story anyway. So there was no point in telling him a lie. Besides, Jon didn't know where Damian had gone anyway. The truth wouldn't change anything now:

"We...we didn't like the way Bruce treated Dick, and when he forbade us to visit him, Damian and I broke into the Batcave and freed him. Dad, he's not a monster!"

"Where are they?"

"I don't know."

Clark became more insistent now:

"Jon, it's very important that you tell me where Damian disappeared to with Dick!"

Jonathan, too, was now getting louder:

"I really don't know!"

There was a brief moment of silence between them before the boy exhaled reassuringly and then continued more composedly:

"He didn't tell me because he knew someone would ask. So I really don't know dad."

Clark could tell by the look on his son's face that he was worried, too. Even though the Kryptonian still had many unanswered questions, he let it go for now. The main thing was that his son was okay.

"All right. Let's go home for now. Your mother is worried enough as it is. I'll sort out the rest with Bruce later. Are you sure your arm is all right?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. Just tired."

"Okay. Let's fly home, then."

With that, Father and Son put distance between themselves and the musty forest floor and headed for Metropolis.

A delightful smell lingered around Jason's nose, as well as the sounds of sizzling oil and ensured that his much-anticipated sleep finally came to an end.

Grumbling, the Outlaw turned around once on the narrow couch without opening his eyes. It was too tempting to just keep sleeping. After all, Jason could rarely afford the luxury of sleeping in, and just the feeling of being able to lie a bit longer on his couch was one of the best in the world. So he weighed it up.

Keep sleeping and stay in paradise, or get up and investigate that wonderful smell of food that somehow triggered a warm feeling inside him.

He hated such fucking hard decisions. It was a pain in the ass.

Eventually his growling stomach brought the answer and blue eyes opened sleepily.

In front of Jason was the floor of the apartment, which was paved with his clothes. He had carelessly throw them there yesterday and now sat up, clad only in boxers. Yawning, the young man stretched his muscular arms, trying to get rid of his fatigue, before he abruptly flinched due to an impulse of pain. His body ached uncomfortably, so he held his stinging ribs. What the hell!

"About time you woke up Todd. It's already noon!"

A childish voice drew attention, causing Jason to turn his head in the direction of the sizzling sounds behind him.

There stood Damian... In his kitchen? That's right, the satanic brat had shown up at his place yesterday along with Dickie, whereupon that turkey had catapulted him into the nearest wall. Explained in any case the suffering of his body. But not why that brat was standing at the stove right now.

Jason always enjoyed a specific advantage to living alone. You could let the cleanliness wander.

"Then you can finally get rid of this mess of yours."

Disadvantage if someone like Damian came in, he immediately grumbled about it.

Still a little sleepy, he got up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

Actually, Jason was already almost fastidiously neat in terms of his home. Each of his few but valuable things had a fixed place and was cleaned regularly. It was something he had inherited from Alfred, as it was a crucial difference from his structureless life as a child. A neglected household in which initially the constant quarrels of his parents and the drug addiction of his pseudo mother determined his life, until finally his father was imprisoned and this woman bit the dust through her intoxicants, so that little Jason had to keep himself alive through theft. No, he certainly didn't want to go there again. However, the outlaw still couldn't keep his hands off light intoxicants. Their relaxing effect was too tempting for his restless mind and especially with alcohol, the numbing of his many painful memories and thoughts. *1

Jason stepped behind the 13-year-old boy and peered with interest over the slim child's shoulders into the steaming pan. His brows rose in wonder before he addressed the Wayne heir, "Are those...pan cakes? I assumed your golden ass didn't know how to even turn on a stove."

Damian glanced over his shoulder at the taller man in annoyance before gritting his teeth and expressing his displeasure:

"That may be true for you Todd. I'm capable of making a wide variety of chemicals, so I guess cooking is the least of my problems. -tt- Nothing but bread and beer houses your kitchen. What does your organism actually live on? Well... actually this should not surprise me with a street rat like you. They eat every garbage anyway. In any case, I prefer something humans can eat. Besides, take a shower! Your penetrating smell of sweat and gunpowder is already ruining my breakfast!"

Jason's brows drew together. Although he was already used to being called a street rat, he didn't like the way Damian used it. However, he said nothing and only raised his arm a bit to smell himself. Yeah, a shower was really necessary. Especially after yesterday's job. Actually, he always showered immediately, but the Outlaw had simply been too tired to shower so late, or rather so early in the morning. After all, he hadn't even bothered to at least put his dirty laundry in a pile at the time.

"Oh, it's not that bad. After breakfast..."

"Before breakfast!" Growled Damian as he interrupted the taller man and then continued bitingly:

"You'll get nothing as long as you stink like that. So get your personal hygiene up to a level where you're not contaminating half the environment, or you can find another breakfast."

Jason scratched his head, unimpressed, and said boredly: "Gee Kiddo, chill. I've always wondered about your stiff attitude. Nice to know it's because of that fat stick up your ass. Inherited it from the old man, didn't ya?"

Teasingly, the taller one bent over and grinned mischievously at the little one. The latter, however, did not find this funny at all. Narrowing his eyes to slits, Damian averted his gaze from the pancakes and seemed to want to stab Jason with them as he growled irritably:

"Shower, now!"

Jason was only amused by this behavior. In his eyes, Damian was merely acting like a little mini-Bruce who had once again had his soup spilled. It was just hard to take something like that seriously. But before Jason would be left without breakfast, he turned towards the bathroom and said with a smirk:

"Ok, Ok. I'm going already pipsqueak. Don't you dare torch my kitchen in the meantime. I'll kick your ass if you do so."

The corners of Damian's mouth moved a touch lower as he snorted:

"As if you'd succeed Todd. More likely pigs learn how to fly."

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

With that, the outlaw disappeared into the bathroom.

A few moments later, when Jason was again reasonably presentably clean in Damian's eyes, they sat down together at a small table in front of the big door to the balcony, each of them armed with one of the warm pan cakes. The Outlaw didn't even expect this stuff from the little devil to taste particularly good, but he didn't care. The main thing was to eat. In this aspect, he was truly not spoiled.

He was all the more surprised by his first bite, and immediately let the cook in on his criticism as the taller one pointed at the dish with his fork:

"For a spoiled brat, this stuff isn't bad at all kid. A little too sweet in my opinion, but eatable."

In fact, this dish reminded Jason of his pseudo mother when she wasn't indulging in her drugs. The last time he had eaten pancakes was at her house. At that time, everything was still relatively okay and he always got home-cooked meals, went to elementary school regularly, and didn't even think about the future. At least until the time when his life went down the drain.

Damian was only slightly impressed by Jason's view. The 13-year-old was now also scrutinizingly eating a piece of his pancake, but unlike the outlaw, the kid just contorted his face in annoyance. No matter what Damian did and how many times he secretly tried to recreate this dish, it just didn't taste the way Dick's did. And every time, Damian hated this blemish on his abilities.

He just replied dryly:

"It's not particularly up to my standards, but I guess it'll do for a street rat like you."

Jason's brows moved up a floor in surprise:

"Wait a minute...are you just admitting that something you made isn't perfect? Man, puberty is really hitting you. Not only are you rebelling against the old man, no, the mental confusion seems to have hit you full force."

Sourly, Damian gritted his teeth before spitting at Jason:

"Shut up Todd! Didn't my father teach you back in the day that you don't talk with your mouth full? Besides, you're the one whose head isn't quite on straight, aren't you? With all the crap you keep ingesting, it's no wonder your brain has more holes in it than a swiss cheese. I can hear the wind whistling all the way over there!"

Jason burst out laughing.

Little did he know how appropriate this metaphor was for his holey brain, because what no one knew was that Jason still couldn't remember his entire life before and shortly after his death. That's why this comparison really amused him.

Damian just looked at him like a madman who was ripe for Arkham. This Idiot really had more than one screw loose.

Finally the Outlaw caught himself again and snorted:

"Oh man. You can be funny after all. But at least I still have a spark of social competence, unlike you. By the way, I hope you didn't pay with a card when you went shopping. It would be annoying if your Daddy found us right away."

Quickly, the initial confusion gave way to snootiness again:

"Don't be ridiculous Todd. You forget who you're talking to. I've got more cash on me than you've seen in your entire life. It's easily enough for a year of high class hotels."

Jason raised a brow skeptically:

"Tell me, did you hack Bruce's account? No way he gave you this much."

Vainly, Damian neatly cut a piece of his pancake before answering Jason as if he were talking to some kind of subhuman:

"Unlike the rest of you, I calculated statistics of stocks early on and invested my money wisely instead of spending it on petty things like video games or the like. After all, I'm going to run Wayne-Enterprise someday, and unlike Dad, I'm not just leaving the fate of the company in the hands of random employees. There's too much potential left to be tapped."

Jason didn't know whether he should be impressed or saddened by this. Sure, it was remarkable how much money the kid had seemingly amassed and with what ambition he pursued his goals. But at what price? The Outlaw had never understood this eternal work without free time with Bruce and even less with Damian, who was still a child after all. When you're thirteen, you shouldn't be dealing with economic statistics, but with your first interests in girls or something. After all, you only had one childhood and Jason knew exactly how formative it could be.

But when he thought about it more closely, he knew too little about the Satanic Brat to form a judgment about him. After all, only Red Hood and Robin had ever met on the battlefield, but never Jason Todd and Damian Wayne in private, because they all went their own ways. The boy, who just emptied his plate in front of him in the finest manner, he actually did not know at all. The Outlaw was all the more surprised that Damian, of all people, sought out his help. After all, he wasn't exactly the person you went to when you had problems.

He was gulping down another piece of pancake when Jason dismissed his thoughts and skipped to a much more important topic:

"Tell me kid, what exactly are you up to now. I mean, knowing you, I'm sure you've thought of a precise plan. Enlighten this lowly human being with your oh so great wisdom."

Damian's face twisted in annoyance at this sarcastic comment. He averted his eyes from his counterpart and let them wander to his fork poking at his food:

"Hiding Dick from the Justice League, restoring his memories, and turning him back into a human."

Jason just rolled his eyes:

"I already figured that out flashbulb. But how exactly are we going to do that?"

With pressed lips, the usually confident boy muttered:

"I...d...k...y."

"Can you get your teeth apart, too? Nobody understands that mumbling."

"I don't know yet."

Jason's brows moved up a floor. That was actually quite uncharacteristic of this fighting dwarf not to have a plan. After all, he was rubbing everyone's faces in how oh-so-great he was. The outlaw groaned in annoyance:

"So you came here on the off chance? Well that's great prerequisite."

However, Damian didn't let this go without an explanation:

"Gene mutations can't be undone just like that Todd! The only logical way is to find every single mutated gene and somehow return it to its origin. This is not a simple heart surgery. There are no studies or experiments on this subject!"

Somewhat crestfallen by his own prognosis, Damian slumped against the back of his chair, then continued thickly:

"Even if I knew how such a procedure worked, it would take many years to match every single gene and change it in the right order. If you get even one step wrong, it could kill Richard in an excruciating way. That's why my primary goal for now is to restore his memories, even if I don't yet know how exactly."

The Outlaw could tell by the look on the boy's face how much this whole story was bothering him, and his brows automatically drew together. He could only guess how close Dickie and Damian were, since the best he could do was survey their teamwork on the battlefield, and since Richard was the only one this stubborn fighting Chihuahua took orders from, it must have been pretty close already. But if they wanted to move faster on this, there was only one way:

"If this whole thing is so complicated, don't you think Timmy would be a better option than I on this one? No offense, but when it comes to science, he's the Brain."

Exasperated, Damian hissed and the grip on his fork hardened. Angrily, he growled back:

"I'd rather work a hole month with booster, than ask this amateur for help. He's crawling up my father's ass so deep he wouldn't hesitate to rat us out to him."

Jason was visibly surprised by how abusive this fighting midget was getting in regards to Tim. Jesus, what kind of problem did these two actually have?

"I think you have a pretty wrong picture of him. Timmy's not the type to stab you in the back and if I'm being honest, he's the only one in this family besides Alfred that I don't immediately feel the need to throw up when i see them. You should have a little more confidence in him." *2

However, the boy was not swayed from his opinion:

"Drake will not be contacted! End of the discussion."

In response, the taller one just contorted his face in boredom and rolled his blue eyes strained:

"Wow. And I'm said to be stubborn."

Jason ate the last of his pan pie and got up to put his plate in the dishwasher as he continued to speak:

"But sooner or later it's going to come down to this anyway brat. Even if you don't want it to. For now, I'll respect that, knowing how busy Timmy is in Bludhaven. However, don't expect me to withhold that from him in the long run. After all, he and Dickie were close."

At that comment, the corners of Damian's mouth moved even further down.

After disposing his plate, Jason went to his ruined wardrobe and pulled out one of the debris-soiled leather jackets. He casually put on the designer piece before enlightening the sour-faced boy about his next move:

"I have to go out again and I don't know yet how long it will take. So leave my place intact while I'm gone. The same goes for Dickie of course. You brought him here, so you're responsible if he destroys anything."

"He's not a stray animal Todd!"

Jason pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and put one of them in his mouth before replying annoyed:

"I don't care. He's not sane right now and primarily your problem. So you're my target if anything breaks. I'll probably be back tonight and if anything shows even a scratch, my first bullet will land in your spoiled child's ass."

To punctuate the statement, the taller still disinterestedly held his middle finger out over his shoulder to the fighting midget.

Damian wanted to protest against it, but the Outlaw already disappeared through the front door with a lit cigarette.

He´s got to be kidding him! This lazy snore-sack just pissed off to who knows where, even though he knew exactly what a delicate situation they were in. God he really hated this vulgar street dog!

Angrily, Damian slumped back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his torso.

Probably this social scum wanted to go to one of those cheap pleasure houses to rub his, over the period of his previous order, accumulated juice from his boner.

Damian would never understand how anyone could indulge their urges in such a vulgar manner. Disgusting and unproductive. Unless unwanted accidents happen. Then the product is 18 years of child support and the disrespect of society should one not own up to the responsibility.

In contrast, the Wayne heir would use the time wisely and work on Dick's reversion. Grayson was nocturnal. That meant he could use the day to analyze the altered genes and the night to work on his amnesia. That way, both sites would be covered and progress would be made more quickly.

Damian rose from the small dining table and also took his plate to the dishwasher. Clattering, the flat porcelain went into the appropriate compartment, before the boy took another look out the window, where a flock of doves graced the bright blue sky.

Finally, he made his way towards the bedroom, where his laptop was already waiting for him.

Let's get to work.

As announced, Jason returned in the evening, as always a lit cigarette between his lips. Loaded with a large brown paper bag containing various groceries, he stood in front of the front door to his apartment, trying to hit the keyhole with his free hand.

Normally, the outlaw always ate fast food or anything else that was quick. That's why he never had much food at home. However, now Damian was there and even if Jason always pretended that it was none of his business, he felt responsible to provide the poison dwarf with something proper to eat. After all, his body was still developing and the stuff that this gnome had bought in the morning didn't include fruits or vegetables.

Man, he hated having to take care of such ungrateful brats.

The latch was unlocked and the door opened, whereupon the young man entered. To his surprise, the apartment was sparsely lit, so he did not immediately know where Damian was. Almost melodically, therefore, he purred into the room while he turned on the light:

"I'm back. Anyone who broke anything should be hidden."

However, it was not Damian who welcomed him first. Growling, Dick stepped out of the side hallway that led to the bedroom, scrutinizing Jason closely with his painfully distorted eyes.

But the Outlaw was unimpressed by this aggressive gesture. The he casually balanced on one leg so that he could kick the front door shut behind him and some ash from his cigarette fell to the floor.

"Well Sleeping Beauty, beauty sleep over?"

Dick only growled at him more in response and Jason simply walked several feet around this rabid turkey to the kitchen, but couldn't resist adding: "Yeah well, fuck you too."

He placed the bag on the counter and put out his cigarette to prevent an incident like yesterday. Jason began putting away the groceries while, under Richard's suspicious gaze, he just kept talking:

"Did you do me the favor of eating the brat? At least then I'd be rid of one Wayne for a start."

"You better make sure he doesn't eat you Todd." Damian stepped out of the bedroom and stood next to Dick with his arms crossed as he continued:

"Although I doubt your inferior quality will be palatable. After all, your body's already messed up anyway from the Lazarus Pit chemicals and all that shit you keep consuming."

Playfully cheerful, Jason replied sarcastically:

"Well there's the sunshine. I'm so relieved."

The boy just screwed up his face. Maybe he should rethink whether it's really Drake who gets on his nerves the most. Because Todd is damn close to ending up in the same drawer as him.

Annoyed, Damian asked:

"Where have you been?"

Jason didn't look back, just kept sorting through the groceries before answering dryly:

"None of your fucking business. What I do is my business, and none of your concerns, understand?"

The outlaw turned around and then casually leaned his backside against the counter:

"I'll help you, but that's it. Your snooty nagging is really getting on my nerves, and I can do just fine without your oh-so-great opinion about the things I do. So mind your own business and we should work out somehow. Clear?"

Damian just rolled his eyes:

"I don't give a damn about you either Todd. However, it would be hypocritical to claim that the work is going on faster without your input. So I'd appreciate it if you'd focus on the important things instead of disappearing and go on with your trivial street mutt business."

Jason's brows drew together in annoyance:

"Who says it's not important too?"

"Please Todd. Since when did you start doing important missions?"

This brat really knew how to get on people's nerves and Jason was getting fed up too. Annoyed, the taller one exhaled before matter-of-factly telling Damian:

"Let me tell you something brat. You really don´t know me at all and I know you just as little. How did you say so beautifully yesterday? 'Don't throw anything at me without knowing the exact circumstances. ' I respected that, so I expect you to do the same. After all, you came to me and accordingly you should think twice about what you say. Otherwise, your daddy might get a little tip from me about where you are. But I think we both want to avoid that if possible. So shove your Napoleon complex up your spoiled little ass and shut up. Then I'll make you something to eat, too. Because I doubt your cooking skills exceed the level of a pancake."

Jason turned back to the counter and began gathering various cooking utensils before Damian added, grumbling angrily:

"I think food from you would poison me."

Jason picked up a pan and examined it briefly as he replied dryly:

"Taste it first and then you can bitch about my cooking skills. But before I forget..."

The outlaw set the pan on the unheated stove and reached into the brown grocery bag once more.

He pulled Something out and walked over to Dick, whose sharp teeth bared more and more warningly with each step. Undeterred, Jason placed a cylindrical package about three meters in front of Richard and Damian:

"Brought you a peace offering Dickie. I took the strong tobacco for you."

He squatted down next to the red can, opened it, and took out some of the dried herb so the Outlaw could hold it out to his snarling counterpart. Suspiciously, Richard watched him closely before the tantalizing aroma of this many different noxious substances enveloped his nose. Excitedly, the tip of his tail wagged back and forth as he crossed the few steps between himself and the offered hand, sniffing the rough fingers with interest.

Finally, the clawed hand grabbed at the presented tobacco and jerked Jason toward himself before he cooed gleefully and rubbed his head against the dried herb. The Outlaw looked at Damian and visibly frowned:

"Wow, so he can be bought that easily. Well, at least he's not growling anymore. But I definitely liked him better when Dickie was normal. It's disgusting how indiscreet he acts."

Damian just hissed and rolled his eyes before saying:

"-tt-, don't act like he didn't take every opportunity to give out his melodramatic hugs before."

Jason's facial expression now slipped further into the basement:

"God, don't remind me. He could be so exhausting with his constant good mood and thirst for action. How did you actually put up with that jerk for so long?"

Damian just shrugged his shoulders in response and then grinned diabolically:

"Throw enough knives at people and they'll keep their distance."

Jason copied that expression:

"I tend to prefer firearms for this sort of thing, but I know what you mean."

The Outlaw removed his hand from that cooing burdock and picked up the can again:

"Ok, ok that's enough now. If you want the rest too, you'll have to come with me to the balcony. I don't want that stuff all over my floor."

As announced Jason went to the balcony door opened it and threw the can on the wooden surface, so that the lid came off and the tobacco spread a little over the floor. Without hesitation, Dick jumped after it and would be busy picking the herb apart for the next while.

The Outlaw closed the door again and headed for the kitchen, while still mundane he said:

"There, one less pain in the ass. I don't expect him to fly away now. After all, he could have left long ago if he wanted to and since nobody lives nearby, he shouldn't be seen."

Damian add mumbling:

"As long as there's no deer walking around the next block."

The taller one opened the refrigerator while asking Damian:

"What do you like better, salmon or beef?"

The boy, however, just snorted at him disapprovingly:

"Neither. I'm a vegetarian Todd."

"Really? Well that leaves more for me. But you do eat eggs, right?"

Damian rolled his eyes:

"Like I said, vegetarian, not vegan."

Clacking, the Outlaw pulled out a carton of eggs and placed them on the countertop with the other food before answering:

"Well then, an alternative is easier to make. We wouldn't want the golden prince to have to eat like a street rat. Speaking of which, what does the turkey eat anyway?"

"Anything with a high energy content."

"Well then...If your delicate little fingers can handle it, you can go ahead and set the table."

In response, the thirteen year old just hissed in annoyance.

Jason got more things from the fridge and began to process everything with practiced hand movements.

When the boy got the plates from one of the kitchen boards, he could see more closely how Jason prepared the food.

Damian was visibly surprised at how easy it was for this street rat to slice food so accurately and thinly and, for example, to open eggs with one hand.

The boy knew it until now only when Richard had made him pan cakes, but it never looked so professional with him, only with Alfred.

Astonished, he asked:

"How do you know how to cook?"

Jason didn't turn around, but just kept cutting as he spoke:

"Have any of you bunglers ever looked into Alfred's work? You shouldn't take it as a matter of course that you always get cooked food. Actually, it's none of your business, but if you want to know, I've had Alfie shown me a few things like that. The more you can do yourself, the less you have to rely on the help of others. But you better tell me about your findings so far regarding Dickie while I finish this stuff. The more I know about it, the sooner I might be able to do something about it."

While Damian doubted that Jason could show any particular knowledge of genetics or psychology, but he agreed with his point of view regarding the 'more you can do yourself' thing. Ultimately, that's what made a good hero without superpowers and had been taught to him, except such activities as cooking, from an early age.

Damian then began to talk in detail about his research.

It took about half an hour before the meal was ready. Damian had placed three plates on the small wooden table they had used at lunch. Jason was putting vegetarian stakes, consisting mostly of oatmeal and broccoli, and a beer for himself on the table when he wondered about something after all:

"You don't seriously expect Dickie to join us at the table, do you? He can't even hold a fork properly at the moment, let alone sit on a chair."

However, Damian simply ignored what the taller man remarked and only replied:

"We have to confront him with old habits. With amnesia, memories can be triggered by objects, places, or actions from the past. Even a simple walk down a street where he's only been once could bring back all his memories. So it doesn't even have to be formative aspects."

Damian was already opening the balcony door when Jason put the rest of the vegetables and meat on the table and just said boredly:

"If you say so Kiddo."

Sighing, the taller man sat down at the table and then added:

"For my part, I'll just sit here and watch you fail. You don't mind if I start eating, do you? It'd be a shame if the food gets cold."

Damian was visibly annoyed by this and audibly gritted his teeth as he looked back at the Outlaw. Sourly, he hissed:

"I hate you with every fiber of my body Todd."

Jason just smiled at him though and was already stuffing himself with a piece of salmon:

"That's reassuring. After all, with your body size, it can't be that much."

"Suffocate on your salmon Todd!"

Damian was just calling out to Dick, who was still dealing with the tobacco, when Jason added, still chuckling:

"This is going to be great."

The part of getting Dick into the apartment was easy. Placing him in the chair, however, an entirely different story. With amused anticipation, Jason watched as this dwarf tried to get the massive body in front of him to take a seat on the chair at the table. First with words and then with brute strength. However, Dick's dumb face clearly showed that he did not understand what the little guy wanted from him in the first place. Damian pushed and pushed without moving an inch and the boy strained to ordered him:

"Damn it Grayson...move...your...ass...to that stupid...chair!"

However, the winged one eventually took the whole thing as some sort of game and leaned more against the boy, who soon seemed to collapse under the weight.

Jason, meanwhile, had already eaten half of his plate and was still enjoying the show. When did you ever see a Damian Wayne fail at something so ridiculously. That was worth its weight in gold.

Finally, when his arms could no longer bear the weight, Damian was buried under a pile of feathers as Dick simply dropped backwards on top of him and he was, except for a hand seeking help, never seen again.

Jason laughed out loud:

"Oh man brat, I don't even know whether to laugh or cry at that one."

The only thing that came in response was unintelligible mumbling trying to break through among the many feathers:

"Hmmmmbmmm...bmm...nnn!"

The Outlaw put a hand to his ear and leaned slightly over the table to hear better:

"What was that? I'm afraid a street rat like me doesn't understand the snob language."

Eventually, the Wayne heir managed to fight his way free enough that at least his head saw the light of day again and, appropriately angry, immediately snapped at the Outlaw:

"Todd! If you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'll come over there and make third-rate sashimi out of you!"

Jason, however, just continued to eat with relish as he purred happily:

"Aside from the fact that I'm not a fish and you don't know how to cook something like that anyway, I'd be happy to help you if you asked me nicely."

"Don't be ridiculous! Who would hgm_hmmm ..."

Dick shifted his weight again so that Damian was buried under him once more and wagged his tail happily as he lay on top of the boy.

"God, no one can stand to watch that misery."

Jason finally relented and took another sip of his beer before the outlaw stood up.

He pulled one of the chairs back from the table, pulled out a pack of cigarettes from a nearby dresser, and wandered on over to the Feathered Pile, where he casually held his cigarettes in the air:

"Dickie, even though I approve of you shutting the devil's spawns mouth, the food is getting cold. So enough of the fun."

Interested, the turquoise eyes darted up to where the scent of more herbs beckoned and Richard began to straighten up, allowing Damian to reappear beneath the mass of feathers. The former performer made himself long...longer...until it made Jason's eyes grow wide. Dick towered over Jason by far. This couldn't be, no, no, no!

"Are you kidding me! Why is he taller than me?"

Damian, glad to put distance between himself and the ground again, just rolled his eyes as he patted the scanty dirt off his clothes. Now who had the Napoleon complex here, please?

"Well Todd, you're not the tallest of us anymore. I'll finance you chocolate ice cream for the frustration."

Jason gritted:

"I can well do without your pity." before leading Dick, who kept reaching demandingly for the cigarettes, in front of the reclined chair and pushed him into it with a strong kick to the winged man's stomach. Richard sat, but his mood threatened to tip again regarding Jason as he began to show his teeth again, due to the sudden attack.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut your mouth and stay seated."

The Outlaw tossed the cigarettes into Dick's lap, who calmed down in response and took them between his claws with interest.

He raised a brow in mild surprise:

"Wow, you're really cheap Dickie."

Seemingly bored, Jason then moved the chair and its inmate to the dining table, primarily using his trained muscle strength, and then sat back down on his own chair as if nothing had happened, continuing to empty his plate.

Damian could only look at the whole scene with disbelief. It was that simple?!

"Did you want to eat some or just stare stupidly? Then I could have saved my effort on the veggie stuff right away."

Perplexed, child now also stepped back to the table and sat down before adding:

"Todd, I don't know if you just don't care about your life, or if your stupidity merely far exceeds my expectations."

The taller man rolled his eyes in annoyance:

"He's sitting, isn't he? The rest doesn't matter anyway. You'd better make him eat something. Because I don't know how long he'll be interested in the cigarettes."

Although they had been able to put him in the chair, the rest of the meal was not as successful. Damian had tried again and again to show Richard that he should eat with a knife and fork. However, this task still turned out to be impossible. Instead of eating, greedy hands and a tail kept darting across the now scratched tabletop stealing all sorts of food, which was then quickly never seen again behind the sharp teeth. In the process, even plates that already had owners were not spared and Jason had been on the verge of pulling out his revolver to keep this thief away from his food with it.

Semi-success.

A week passed in which their daily routine consisted of sleeping mainly during the day in order to better care for and explore Dick at night. However, it took a ton of patience to live with a Damian Wayne. At first it had been quite funny to get this haggish Mimi-Bruce on his toes, but by the middle of the week at the latest, the snooty behavior of this spoiled brat was just annoying. The boy was only grumbling and nagging, like a grouchy stepmother who was called Karen by everyone. Compared to that, Dick, who just had a few cigarettes thrown at him every now and then, was a piece of cake.

Jason disappeared somewhere almost every other day without telling Damian where he was going, and although they had agreed not to jump to conclusions, the boy snorted snidely each time and just wrinkled his nose at Jason as if he was some lowlife. But despite this, the Outlaw used every spare minute to help the lad. Even though he always put on a facade of disinterest, he cared about the fate of the golden first Robin. However, the great successes were still missing.

Damian did not approve of his involuntary roommate's excursions at all and showed this at every opportunity until it was enough for the Outlaw at some point.

It was the last day of their first week together. A cloudy Saturday afternoon, which further underscored the tense mood due to the lack of sunshine.

Jason was putting on his leather jacket, as he was about to leave the house once again, when Damian leaned against the wall in a non-verbal stance and hissed to himself.

The Outlaw took one deep breath before turning and calmly asking:

"What?"

The boy wrinkled his nose as usual:

"Don't you think your many excursions are jeopardizing the real goal Todd? There are more imp-..."

Jason snappishly interrupted the boy.

"You know what? Just come with me and stop pissing me off from the site so stupidly all the time! But one inappropriate comment from you where we're going and you can find another place to stay!"

Notes:

1* Jasons Background:

Jason grew up with his parents always fighting and is often portrayed sitting under the dining table with his dog when they do so in the comics. Because his Father worked for Riddler, he got arrested and the drug addiction of his mother got worse until she eventually died one day. After that he lived on the streets, started smoking at some point and stole the Boatmobiles wheels someday whereupon Bruce made him his new robin. As robin he learned on a mission, that the woman he thought was his mother wasn´t and met his true mother, before she turned out to be also a villain. (But she still loved him) She too was killed shortly after. Jason then became more aggressive, died because of Joker, was resurrected by Talia and stayed with the league of assassins to train until he became later Red Hood. He tried to kill Joker, tried to find his own way, formed the first Outlaws, did more shit to piss the hole Batfamily of until Bruce gave him an ultimatum. He could be part of the Family again if he doesn´t kill in Gotham anymore. If he would, Batman would hunt him down and put an end to his actions. So now he is with the new Outlaws (Artemis and Bizarro) and part of the family again.

Not the best childhood. (^^ゞ

2* Jason didn´t like Tim at first, because he made him feel like it was easy to replace him. Later they learned to understand each other better and as described in the comics Tim is the only member, he doesn´t feel the urge to puke when he sees him. So he likes him pretty much. (￣y▽,￣)╭