Jason grumbled angrily to himself as he and Damian roamed the city streets. They both wore hoodies with the hoods pulled over their faces. Everything only in order not to attract attention. Even thought Jason wasn't hunted by Batman, if he happened to catch sight of him through a surveillance camera and Jason had a child with him, it would be more than easy to put 1 and 1 together. So the black-haired man grilled away on this hot sunny day, in this thick piece of cloth. And all this only because he had the devil's spawn with him. Why had he brought him again?

"Todd, if you walk any slower, even the snails will outrun you."

God, this snob was such a pain in the ass.

Annoyed, he replied:

"If it makes you feel any better peck, we're almost at Station 1."

Damian just snorted disapprovingly:

"Be aware that we have to get back to Grayson before nightfall, so he doesn't do anything stupid. And I'd prefer to get this mundane thing over as quick as possible."

Jason was clearly fed up right now. In a fit of immense annoyance, the Outlaw sped around and tapped that brat provocatively against his slim chest:

"Now you listen to me, you little maggot. I've agreed to take you along and I expect you to shut the fuck up about it. Because there are a few rules for you on this tour!"

Damian just rolled his eyes. Oh man, what was next?

"First, there will be no bitching, nagging, or even a snark."

Damian crossed his arms as he looked to the side in annoyance:

"-tt-"

"Exactly that. No more of it!"

Jason raised another finger:

"Second, you do what you're told to for once without any back talk. Got it?"

The boy just raised a brow in disapproval and ended up in a eye duel with the taller one. Jason, however, only became more insistent:

"Do you understand?"

It took another moment for the two to scowl at each other before Damian finally relented and broke their eye contact, annoyed:

"Fine, but I'm not going to do humiliating things!"

"Just do what I tell you."

A Third Finger joined the other two:

"And lastly, if even once the word street rat or any other derogatory remark in that direction leaves your mouth, you'll be back to Bruce faster than Flash banging his old hag. I expect you to be respectful of the people we are about to meet. You're just Damian today, my little brother and no Wayne. So on the same level as any other citizen. I don't want to stand out here. Got it?"

Damian groaned with strain:

"Let's just get this over with Todd."

"Jason."

"Excuse me?"

"Jason to you from now on. No last names. Besides, brothers don't usually address each other by their last names."

Damian was already fed up with all this. Why had he come along again?

They finally stopped at a small inconspicuous store whose entrance was adorned with both green fruit and vegetable crates and Jason once again said admonishingly to Damian:

"Three rules, got it?" before they entered the store, accompanied by the ringing of the old fashioned doorbell.

It was a supermarket with all sorts of products, but nowhere near the size and selection of more common market concerns. Shelves of eggs of various types of husbandry next to refrigerators of a wide variety of dairy products adorned the back of the store, while the middle compartment was for the non-refrigerated stuff. Damian didn't understand what this idiot wanted in such a small junk store anyway. There wasn't even a clerk in sight.

"Hey Lupita, you there?"

Jason had been leaning against the counter as a matter of course when he called behind the register.

A small but corpulent woman with short curly brown hair and amber skin stepped out of the door to the stockroom, barely two meters in front of the Outlaw. She appeared to be in her fifties and was clearly pleased to see her customer:

"Hola Jason. Good news. The goods arrived earlier and I've already finished packing your boxes for you."

Her bright eyes moved on to Damian, who regarded her with only mild interest. She appeared to be of Mexican origin.

"Who's your pretty little companion over there? It's unusual for you to bring someone along."

Jason also introduced him right away with a bored undertone:

"This is Damian, my little brother. He has agreed to help me to carry the stuff. So could you could pack me one more package? Then I can drop another one off to Dave and the boys."

Perkily, the woman winked at Damian as she purred in reply:

"Oooohhh, I didn't know you had siblings. Good looks seem to run in your family. I'm Lupita, by the way."

The brown eyes stared at Damian lasciviously and the boy was just confused by that look. Not really knowing what she was trying to accomplish, he broke their eye contact. The chip bags suddenly became very interesting.

Giggling, the woman continued:

"He's cute. I hope he has more manners than you."

Jason groaned audibly:

"If you only knew."

Damian's brows drew together. He would have liked to interject something to stop himself from putting up with this. After all, Jason was the rat without manners here. However, the rules kept him silent.

Lupita continued:

"I'll pack you another one quickly, but you should also think of yourself, mi hijo. (my boy) Not that you are shorting yourself. After all, you were here two days ago. Save your money." *

Jason waved it off:

"Nah, it's just dirty paper anyway. Great are those who need little and give much. I don't know what to do with it anyway. Besides..."

Jason leaned further over the counter and wiggled his eyebrows once:

"...green looks so good on you."

The small woman flicked him once against the forehead with a smirk before saying chidingly:

"If you keep flirting with women, you'll only get yourself into trouble, Idiota."

While Jason rubbed his forehead with a smirk and said: "I'm just flirting with you Bella Donna." she just replied unimpressed:

"Stupid words make deaf ears." Lupita went to the back of the storage to grab the other package and continued talking on the side, shouting:

"I cooked meatballs yesterday. Want some to go?"

Jason tapped his fingers on the counter, bored:

"Usually I'd love to, but Damian's a vegetarian, so I have to cook for us anyway. I'll pass on today for once."

"If you don't get any orders for a while, I'd be happy to invite you over to our place for tortilla lasagna. It's meatless."

"That's nice Lupita, but I'm not sure how long I'll be off."

Grinning, the Outlaw looked to Damian:

"Besides, my baby brother is a little shy. He's not so used to family, you know, and yours is...well...pretty much family. I don't want to overwhelm him."

Damian just gritted his teeth and tried to literally stab Jason with his gaze. Just then, Lupita's voice rang out again:

"Oh papperlapapp, tu familia es mi familia."

The Mexican stepped out of the storage again, loaded with a box:

"And in mi familia, everyone is welcome."

She set the brown box on the counter as Jason just raised a brow in reply:

"Don't you think your familia is slowly getting a little too big?"

Annoyed at this comment, Lupita put her hands on her hips:

"Familia can't be big enough, Jason."

She then addressed Damian, who all the while was just standing in front of the shelf for snack foods, taking something out every now and then to boredly read the wrappers.

"Oi, mi dulce niño. (my sweet child) If you want, you're welcome to take some snacks. You poor thing are way too skinny and should eat more. I hope your brother cooks enough for you."

Damian's brows went up as the perky woman addressed him directly and Jason just gave him a warning look. The boy thought about what best to say now and only seconds later a nice innocent smile found its way onto his face:

"Me cocina algo de comer todos los días y siempre está delicioso. Pero si puedo, me gustaría comer algunos cacahuetes." (He cooks me something to eat every day and it is always very delicious. But if I may, I would like to have some peanuts.) *

While Lupita cheered euphorically, Jason's jaw dropped. Innocent smile, ...kind words...Who the heck was this kid and what had he done with the Satan's brat?

"Dios mío, of course take them. Your Spanish is amazing, where did you two learn it?"

Damian grabbed the pack of peanuts from the shelf and continued to speak amiably as Jason still looked perplexed:

"We grew up bilingual because Mom is from Spain and Dad is from America. That's why our skin colors are a little different."

Exasperated, Lupita hit Jason once on the hand:

"You never told me your mom was Spanish."

Jason jolted a little out of his stupor. He still couldn't believe that the mean-spirited toddler could smile so innocently, as if he were Mommy's little angel. That sly little bastard.

Jason quickly came up with an excuse:

"She's always away on business. So I didn't think it was necessary. Sorry Lupita, but could you get the other two boxes? After all, we still have to go on to Dave and Nayeli. And Damian has to be home before it gets dark."

"Of course, uno momento. I'll paint a cross on those for Dave."

The woman quickly picked up the last two boxes and Jason was already putting the money on the counter. Outraged, Lupita commented on the copious amount of large bills:

"Mi Hijo, this is way too much!"

"Not for your delicious homemade food that you keep cooking me."

Jason took one of the boxes and passed it to Damian. The latter didn't like being an errand boy, but said nothing about it for the time being.

The taller one stacked the other two on top of each other to be able to carry them better and also immediately lifted them onto his arms:

"We will go on then. Say hello to Ernesto and the others for me."

"And you to Dave and Nayeli. Tell her I'll come by again in the morning."

"Will be done."

The two were just leaving the store when Lupita shouted after them again:

"And if you change your mind about dinner, just come by."

Once outside, they walked into one of the small side alleys as Jason started:

"I really didn't expect you to be nice for once. I didn't think you could do anything more than a cynical smirk."

Damian just snorted snidely:

"Please Todd. I've been around enough grinning faces to be able to copy their stupid muscle play."

"Don't forget, for you right now Jason. And no more snarky snorts."

Damian just hissed angrily: "-tt-, whatever."

If the Outlaw didn't have to lug two boxes, he would have rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. This brat really couldn't let go of those snide gestures.

They passed many streets and alleys on their way and Damian already thought that this jerk Todd had no idea where he was actually going.

Eventually they came out in a pretty dingy quarter of the town and Damian thought it really couldn't get any more pathetic. But as they turned into another alley, he was proven wrong.

The drains reeked of the sewage from the many poor apartments that housed all the socially deprived families this city had to deal with.

Two squeaking rats were fighting over an old piece of pizza next to a trash can. Their dirty fur was straggly and the fact that rats were running around here in the middle of the day only meant that hundreds more were cavorting under their feet. What a dump.

"Be careful not to kick the rats. They can bite pretty nasty."

Damian replied with only a slight cynical grin:

"Seems you've already had that pleasure."

To his surprise, Jason's face took on a glum undertone:

"Believe me, when you live on the street, you learn to watch out for these critters."

Jason had often taken bites from rats in the past, as they roamed his old run-down lodgings like salmon through a river. It was truly not pleasant to keep his already meager food from these penetrating crooks and just hearing their pitter-patter across the musty wooden floor in his so-called 'bed' at night robbed him of sleep. He hated those cursed rodents like the plague.

"Just make sure you don't kick them."

Damian left it like that.

A few meters further there was then, between all the run-down houses, A parking lot, on which several homeless people bustled. Apparently it was no longer used and since there was an entrance to the huge sewage tunnels of the city just behind the asphalt surface, it offered a shelter for those without a roof over their heads.

A hotspot for the homeless.

"Hey Peter, do you know where Dave is?"

Jason called out to the small group of men who were just up ahead. They seemed visibly pleased to see him and a gray-haired old man with a holey cap pointed to the large tunnel:

"Jason, there you are again. Dave's inside trying to fire up your generator to test it. Did you bring stuff from Lupita's store again?"

Joking, the outlaw continued joking:

"Well, someone has to shop at her place. Besides, your tousled beard should see the razor again. It's not going to work out with the women and the job applications if you look like that."

Laughing, the old man ran a hand over his chin as the two brothers were already crossing the square:

"I guess you're right."

Jason set his boxes down against a wall of the house to light a cigarette before calling out again to Peter:

"Can you watch them for a minute? Then I won't have to lug them around and I can have a smoke."

"No problem. I can do that."

They entered the dark concreted tunnel and Damian liked this thing less and less. If he'd known Todd associated with people like this, he wouldn't have come along in the first place.

These, of the life incapable street rats use nevertheless anyway each cent for their next cigarettes, or their next bottle alcohol.

But since Todd is doing this, he seems to be among kindred spirits here. What a loser.

Damian stumbled over something soft and almost dropped his box. However, he couldn't tell what it was because of the darkness.

"Watch where you step. If you drop the box, you'll have dry bread tonight."

The boy wrinkled his face in annoyance:

"Then carry the box yourself."

"I'll carry the other two. Now don't say your little fishbone arms can't do it."

True, Damian's arms were getting really tired, but he would never admit such a thing:

"Don't be ridiculous. I just don't see any benefit in being your errand boy."

Jason just waved it off annoyed:

"We'll be right there Kiddo. You won't have to carry a box after that anymore."

Suddenly a white light flickered on in front of them and Jason called out:

"Dave, is that you?"

Promptly, the outlaw received an answer as well:

"Jason?"

The light was now pointed directly at them, causing their pupils to contract painfully.

"Damn it Dave, put the fucking light down. No one's going to be able to see."

"Sorry. Man, you're right on time."

They closed in on the man, who appeared to be in his mid-forties, standing around a small machine with some of the homeless people living here.

In the darkness, it was hard to make out more specific details. Only shoulder-length blond hair and a white T-shirt over knee-length shorts was Damian able to see.

He greeted the outlaw with a hearty handshake:

"Hi, Jason. I was just about to finally fire up your magnet generator, but somehow I can't get it to work. By the way, who's your little companion?"

Jason took one drag from his cigarette before answering:

"This is Damian, my little brother. He's helping me with the boxes today."

Damian could clearly detect the surprised undertone in Dave's voice as he replied. Apparently everyone was surprised by the fact that Jason wasn't traveling alone.

"I didn't know you had a brother. Is he from your adoptive family?"

Jason, however, just waved it off:

"It's nothing to brag about. He's the biological child, but we won't talk about that any further."

The blond man now addressed Damian directly:

"Nice to meet you Damian. I'm Dave. Wait a minute, let me take that heavy box off your hands, since Jason doesn't seem to know that child labor has been abolished by now."

He now glanced reprovingly at the Outlaw:

"Manners have never been your strong suit. You'd better take a look at what's going on with that generator."

Jason scratched his head in annoyance:

"Gosh, now I have to work for you."

While Dave put the box on the floor a bit off to the side and already opened it, Jason squatted in front of the generator and started to fiddle with it. It wasn't long before he said: "Damian can you do that? My fingers are too thick. It'll go faster with yours."

Damian just rolled his eyes and ended up switching places with Jason, much to Dave's displeasure:

"Jason, you're letting him work on a machine like that?! He could lose his hand!"

But Jason just waved it off:

"Relax. The kid knows what he's doing."

And that was true. Unlike the Batmobile, this is like a puzzle with two pieces. Damian had immediately found the mistake. One of the cables had come loose, so the latch that blocked the magnets wouldn't slide back, preventing the machine from starting at all. A banal trivia.

He quickly corrected the error and now started the machine. It rattled briefly before the noise changed to a steady whir and something suddenly flared up above the boy.

It made Damian look up where now a network of hundreds of small lights gradually displaced the prevailing darkness. A distinct murmur traveled through the room as the homeless people present watched the spectacle in amazement.

Jason took one pleasurable drag on his cigarette as he summed it up:

"Good, the lights all seem to still be intact and getting enough power. We'll see if the pipe we hung them from will hold up under the strain, so you'll have to keep an eye on that. But for now, you've got electricity and enough light in here."

Damian now looked around the room itself. The floor was adorned with many colorful carpets, on which pillows in all colors lay. Some people had made themselves comfortable on them and were looking up at the luminous ceiling, beaming with joy. In fact, the scenery reminded him of the Arab Normad tents he had sometimes stayed in when crossing the desert for missions with other members of the League of Assasins. None of this exactly fit his idea of homelessness. It wasn't dirty, and people also seemed to take care to maintain a certain level of personal hygiene. Only some shopping carts with filled plastic bags and various belongings of the people living here behind all the seating, testified to their poorliness.

Gladly, Dave cheered:

"Jason this is much better than I initially thought. Now no one here needs to sit in the dark, and if the generator produces enough power, we could even run other electronics with it."

"Theoretically, there should be nothing in the way of that. At least as long as it doesn't exceed three common household appliances. However, you should take it slowly, since I haven't really tested the generator before and magnetic generators aren't really mature yet. There are a few things you should be aware of."

Jason began explaining the generator's functions to Dave, while Damian was still looking around.

Suddenly, an older African-American woman crossed his field of vision, who had made herself comfortable on one of the carpets and now instructed him with clear gestures to come closer.

Actually Damian had no interest to be involved and get to know these people, but rule number 3 was finally to be respectful. So he suppressed an annoyed eye roll and went to the sitting lady.

Smiling kindly, the old woman greeted him before his hostess spoke up:

"So you're Jason's little brother. Why don't you sit down? If Dave and he are going to talk, it may take a little longer."

Damian briefly looked back at where Todd's conversation had just taken a desperate turn. From the look on Dave's face, it was immediately apparent that he could not understand what was going on with even all the simple information that seemed to be overloading his brain, and Jason was ruffling his hair about that.

The corners of Damian's mouth turned briefly to the basement region at this scene.

He couldn't help but be reminded of his own conversations with Jon when the super jerk didn't get anything right.

He didn't like the resemblance.

Damian turned back to the homeless woman. He really didn't feel like joining this woman, but since Todd was busy elsewhere and it wasn't exactly respectful for the boy to decline an invitation when he had nothing to do anyway. Damian sat down on the carpet across from her, careful not to let his dirty shoes touch the fabric.

She introduced herself as Amala, though Damian did not remember that name. Why should he? As soon as Jason was done, it was goodbye anyway.

He answered then in the following conversation always only inwardly bored. It was just the same game. Surprised that Jason had a brother, how old he was, recognition that he had repaired the generator.

In short, boring.

"It's nice to see that Jason has found a beautiful family. It always broke my heart when I saw him on the streets of Gotham." the older lady finally said, and Damian had to stop himself from raising a brow.

Beautiful family. Wow, this woman really had no idea.

However, he could not prevent the interest from gripping him now:

"You know him from before?"

Considering the budding interest the boy was showing, the woman began to tell:

"I lived in Gotham until a few years ago and that's how I know Dave and Jason. You have to know that especially the streets in Gotham are pretty tough and not many people without a home manage to make it there. In that town it's either you make it on your own or you don't make it at all. Usually there is no solidarity like here. I don't know if you know the story, but when Jason got to a pretty hopeless point, he almost gave up completely. Fortunately, though, Dave came along and showed him how to survive on the streets."

Damian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in confusion:

"What do you mean by giving up, and who is this Dave guy anyway?"

"Well I'd rather not elaborate on the former, but as for Dave, he was homeless just like us. He still had a house until he was 30 years old. Was married and had two children. However, someone then run him over with a car and started a hit and run, leaving him seriously injured later in the hospital. The police could not locate the perpetrator and since Dave had no health insurance, and his job was terminated due to the long recovery time, he was left with the unaffordable bills. One thing led to another. The debt piled up because of penalties for unpaid bills and the lawsuit by the hospital. They had to sell their house, his marriage fell apart, and eventually he ended up on the street with a pile of debt. He wasn't even allowed to see his kids anymore because his ex-wife was ashamed that their father was living on the streets, and he couldn't get a new job either, despite his bachelor's degree."

Her face took on a sad tone:

"Once you end up on the street, it's hard to get out of there. No one wants to hire someone who is penniless and can't guarantee showing up to work groomed. But I can guarantee you that we're just regular people, too. We were just unlucky at some point in our lives. Just like your brother. But at the same time, like him, we're also striving for new happiness. Dave, for example, now has a job as a night watchman and helps the homeless in the city during the day. He lives in a small apartment and even gets to see his kids again."

She smiled now:

"And Jason has found a nice home."

Damian thought about it for a moment. He had never dealt with why people ended up on the streets and who Jason actually was before he was a Robin. Of course, he had read through all the records on each former Robin to make out their weaknesses. However, there was quite little to Jason's back story. Only the names and fates of his parents, and Jason's police records. But nothing that really showed to his life.

Damian's interest grew:

"What was my brother's life like when he lived on the streets?"

He could visibly see the woman's face contort slightly. Apparently this was a touchy subject.

"Well, you'd better ask him yourself. He's a little sensitive about it, and I don't know most of it in detail either."

With that, the train had sailed. However, he flipped to another topic:

"May I ask how you came to live on the street?"

She was now smiling kindly at him again:

"It's quite a short story. I'm an artist whose art no one liked and was always told to paint things that would sell better or give it up right away. But I did not want to give it up and also not my style. Eventually there just wasn't any money left."

She pulled out a small stack of postcards from behind her and continued:

"Now I travel between several cities and sell my painted postcards in downtowns. Would you like to see them?"

She spread the cards out in front of her so Damian could look over them all at once. They were all abstract crayon drawings, painted mainly in bright variegated colors. Realistically, for the boy who only ever drew hyper-realistically to capture criminals, this type of art had no use. He couldn't even tell if they were good or bad.

On impulse, he took one of the pictures between his fingers and looked at it more closely. He couldn't say why exactly this one, but it somehow caught his eye. Blue and orange tones glow towards him and he turned it until it seemed right.

He didn't know why, but somehow Damian liked the picture.

"Do you like it? You're welcome to have it if you want."

Confused, the boy looked up:

"But I don't have any money with me."

Amala started to laugh:

"It's a gift. If you like it, feel free to keep it."

Damian looked at the picture again and then asked:

"Does it have a title?"

He knew that real artists always gave their paintings a name. So he was all the more surprised by the answer he got:

"I never name my paintings. Especially in abstract paintings, everyone sees something different. For some it is a pile of garbage and others identify something from their own life with it. If I give such a picture a name, I take a piece of the freedom of the own fantasy. Give a picture the name lion and you look for the lion. Give it no Name and you fathom your own universe."

Damian pondered for a moment and looked thoughtfully at the drawing:

"An interesting way of looking at it."

Finally, he then reached into the pocket of his hoodie. He held out his sealed peanuts to her:

"Here."

Astonished, the woman said: "I told you, you don't have to give me anything."

"I would like to show my appreciation, though"

Amala hesitated at first, but then shrugged: "If you insist."

She accepted the bag, tore it open, placed the nuts centrally between them and took a few.

As Damian watched this with wide eyes, she also immediately explained herself chewing on the nuts:

"I prefer to eat in company." and instructed the little one to take some.

They talked for quite a while and Damian completely forgot the social distinction they were both actually subjected to.

Eventually Jason managed to beat the info's into Dave at some point and then called for his brother.

They said goodbye to everyone and headed off to their actual destination with the remaining two boxes the Outlaw was carrying.

The entire way, Damian said nothing and only thought about his encounter with these people, whom he had considered alcoholics and scum in the first place. This was not so, as he now realized. They had been exceedingly nice and he even enjoyed talking to the nice woman.

Damian clenched his fists unconsciously.

He was annoyed. He was annoyed because he had held these opinions for so long.

Jason was surprised to see the little devil so calm. If this chatterbox Amala had told him about his former life, then he would have to show her consequences. Finally, he asked:

"Tell me, what did you and Amala talk about? You guys talked for quite a long time, and usually with your flow of words, one is lucky to even get a simple 'morning' from you."

Damian hesitated for a moment and then answered:

"Nothing special."

This seemingly ended that conversation and only left Jason more confused.

Another ten minutes later they were standing in front of a nondescript brown door, of a townhouse. The neighborhood wasn't much better than the previous one and from the few people that crossed their path, hardly any people lived here.

Jason put the boxes on the floor and pulled out a key. Straining, he sighed once for a moment and then said: "All right peck, let's get into the fight." and opened the door.

Damian was a bit confused by this statement. What kind of fight?

The taller one picked up the boxes again, addressed his companion once more with a "Behave yourself." and together they entered the long narrow entrance hallway.

Something the boy could hear immediately were the voices of several children from one of the adjoining rooms that bordered the hallway. He felt sick to his stomach.

"I'm hereeee." the Outlaw warbled, almost bored, as they strolled through the long passageway, and instantly Damian's fears came true.

A little boy of perhaps 6 years old, peeked out from one of the rooms and immediately shouted joyfully behind him: "Jason's finally here!"

Immediately, Damian found himself confronted with one of his greatest weaknesses. Little kids. And a whole bunch of them, who were now running towards them.

He took a few steps back as they also circled Todd like vultures, asking him everything from "Where did you go?" to "Are you staying late today?".

Jason finally interrupted them all: "OK kiddos, who wants lunch now has to do silent fox once and follow me to the kitchen."

Like little ducks excitedly following their mother, the kids ran after him and turned with him into a room to the right of the hallway.

Damian found this situation extremely overwhelming. He could read animals, adults, but he had no plan how to behave towards children.

He decided to observe the whole thing from a safe distance and went to the room, which turned out to be the kitchen.

It was a large room dominated by a long wooden table for at least 12 people and only the small yellow built-in kitchen on the opposite wall indicated that cooking was taking place here.

Jason stood there, finally taking off his warm sweater and just opening the first of the two packages while talking to the kids:

"You guys had asked for something today. That was lobster thermidor, wasn't it?"

Already almost in chorus all, some with contorted faces, loudly denied this dish and Jason drove it a grin in the face.

Damian was not surprised by this. Lobster Thermidor was his father's favorite dish and that jerk Todd took every opportunity to bully him. Mentally, he just wasn't much further intellectual than these brats. *

"Ok, if that's not it, remind me again what you guys wanted to eat."

There were a total of 7 kids who were now shouting: "Spaghetti with tomato sauce!"

All of them seemed to be as different as they could be. From dark to light skin everything was represented and there were even twin sisters. He estimated their ages to be between 4-7 years old overall.

Jason replied: "That you guys still like that food as often as you've had it by now. But good, we'll have spaghetti again."

Suddenly the Outlaw looked at Damian and the boy felt a little queasy, suspecting what was about to follow:

"By the way, that's Damian in the doorway. He's my little brother, you know, and he helped me bring your spaghetti here. So be nice to him and please introduce yourselves."

Damian was horrified as the motley bunch now came over to him and surrounded him curiously. All those expectant eyes were staring at him, so the Wayne heir didn't know what exactly they wanted now.

Finally, they committed to introducing themselves one by one. Some of the kids laughed at him, while others just looked shyly at the ground and mumbled their names. While Damian was visibly struggling with his overload and when the kids were almost through with the names, something caught his eye.

Some of them had strange scars on their bodies and two even had them in perfect circles on their arms. Where did these children come from?

Even as he wondered this, one last voice sounded behind him, but it was older:

"And I am Nayeli."

He looked behind him, where a young wiry Mexican woman smiled at him. She had curly black hair that faded into a dark blue at the tips, and her athletic clothes made her look like a tough woman.

She turned briefly to the children:

"Why don't you go play in the other room while we finish lunch? We'll come get you then."

While some didn't really seem to want to do this, eventually all 7 kids dutifully went into the playroom, leaving the three alone. Whereby, not quite.

Damian noticed that there was another one behind Nayeli that he didn't know yet. The woman stepped in cautiously and Damian could see that the little girl was holding on to her. However, upon better inspection, shock inevitably followed. Her entire upper body was marked by scars that disfigured the right side of her face in particular. It extended beyond the hairline, making it virtually non-existent on the left side.

Her empty eyes looked unfocused into space. She was blind.

Jason seemed to notice that Damian was having trouble keeping his indifferent expression. Therefore, he approached them and said:

"Well, there's the most beautiful girl in the whole world. Wait a minute...have you gotten even more beautiful?"

He took the little girl, who was now giggling, in his arms and looked more closely:

"Indeed. How do you always do that? It makes me look like an old donkey."

She laughed and replied in her childish high voice: "You're a weirdo Jason."

"No honestly, I'm already sprouting hair! Feel for yourself."

The little child's hand moved to his face where the girl could feel the stubbles that were not visible and laughed at it.

Jason continued: "My ears are probably growing already, too. Soon I'll have to put a paper bag over my head."

She leaned in further so she could feel his ears:

"They haven't gotten any longer. But if you become a donkey, I can ride you like a horse. So it would not be to bad."

Jason smiled mischievously and replied sarcastically: "Well, that calms me down now."

He looked at Damian, who had just regained his composure, and continued: "I have my brother with me today. His name is Damian and he's a little shy. Do you want to introduce yourself to him?"

She nodded and Jason lowered her in front of the boy so that he could now fully see the extent of the scars. Based on the fact that in some places it looked like the skin had literally melted, she must have come into contact with some kind of acid at some point. Her face looked a bit grotesque. One side even and beautiful, the other side completely shriveled and distorted.

"I'm Marie, nice to meet you Damian."

Damian accepted her proffered hand and merely replied dryly:

"Damian."

Marie smirked briefly and raised her other hand:

"May I touch your face and see what you look like?"

Damian hesitated. He actually hated to be touched but even he wasn't cold enough to refuse a blind girl to get a picture of him in her way.

"Alright." he finally replied, closing his eyes so she wouldn't accidentally poke them.

Her hands wandered around on his face, feeling everything about it. Nose, chin, brows, nothing was left out.

Finally, Marie took her hand back and giggled:

"You and Jason have the same serious wrinkles on your foreheads. But you're not a donkey like him."

Puzzled, he looked at her before Jason tapped her on the head in offense:

"So I'm not a dinky yet, and nothing is the same with us like that. Trust me, I'm way cooler." Jason turned back around and put a big pot on the stove before adding:

"Why don't you take Damian with you while I finish dinner? I need to talk to Nayeli alone, too."

Damian looked up in shock. Was Todd fucking serious, just sticking him in between all these kids?!

But before he could object, the little girl replied:

"OK." and determining pulled the perplexed boy with her out of the room. She knew the house well enough to know where exactly what was and to go running in the morning.

In the end, here's what it looked like in the playroom. A bunch of wild kids running around playing here and there, and Damian in the middle of it all, not knowing what to do with himself and being dragged across the room to look at some stuff that turned out to be something like two blocks on top of each other. He would have loved to push these annoyances aside with snide gestures, but Todd was breathing down his neck and Damian had no doubt that he would make good on his threats to contact Batman. So he was doomed to somehow deal with these monsters.

Finally, after what felt like an endless triad of back and forth, he finally found a free minute and sat down, annoyed, at the only table in the room where one of the boys was already sitting and drawing. He was one of the shy kids, so he wouldn't bug him.

Man, do you understand these brats and their stupid games? What was the point of pretending that some animal figures were real and could talk to each other? Or this unstructured back and forth fuss. What's the point?

Damian was about to lean back and close his eyes when he noticed the drawings of the boy sitting silently across from him. All of them were painted with black crayons and had no structure. It was only a pile of black scribble. Actually, he shouldn't care, but he caught himself by doing so anyway.

Casually, he inquired: "What are you drawing?"

The little brown-haired boy paused and hesitated, visibly afraid with his answer. He didn't look him in the eye when it finally came stuttering:

"A-...a dog."

Damian looked again at the scrawl, which looked more like a black hole.

Slightly skeptical, he repeated: "A dog..."

"I-it i-is a yellow d-dog. I-I like dogs."

Was he blind, too? He draws a yellow dog and everything he had drawn over several pages is a black mess. Where the heck is that yellow?

Damian didn't know why, but casually he replied:

"I have a black dog. His name is Titus."

The shy boy's eyes were now more alert:

"R-really? What d-does he look like?"

Bored, Damian also picked up a white paper and black pen and started drawing Titus with it. It went pretty quickly, since he had drawn him so many times before, and in amazement his counterpart's eyes followed how the professional picture came into being. Finally, Damian handed him the picture: "Here, that's him."

The brown-haired boy's eyes had grown wide:

"Y-you can t-totally draw amazing! D-do you mind if I keep th-this?"

Damian merely waved it off:

"I have no use for it. Do what you want with that."

In fact, this strange boy was now smiling for the first time. That someone became so happy just because of a piece of paper? He really had no idea what was going on in those shrunk-heads.

To his chagrin, the other children quickly realized that Damian could draw. So he was allowed to spend the rest of the time sketching things for the brats to color in. But still better than being dragged across the room 100 times to examine their groundbreaking achievements.

After lunch, it was nap time for the kids, so Damian and Jason were now alone in the kitchen putting away dishes while Nayeli watched the children in the dorm. The meal itself had been pretty chaotic with so many kids, but Damian actually couldn't remember when he had ever eaten with so many. At the Manor and with the Teen Titans, they didn't usually eat together. Everyone returned at a different time and then ate for themselves.

Only Alfred had kept him company now and then, and even when he was invited to Jon's house for dinner once or twice, they had eaten together.

It was kind of...nice.

Jason washed the dishes and handed Damian a wet plate to dry off. He was starting to get really creeped out by the dwarf. Not only did he do the dishes with him without any objections, but the poison dwarf had actually behaved himself the whole time and just wasn't saying anything at the moment. No snorting, no hissing. Should he be worried about that?

Eventually, the little guy did interrupt the silence between them with a request:

"Say Todd, can I ask you something?"

Jason handed him another plate: "Ask."

"Why do so many of the kids here have scars on their bodies?"

Playfully unimpressed, the outlaw continued washing the plates while he answered:

"Nayeli is a doctor of psychology and specializes in children with trauma. She runs this orphanage and takes in the particularly tough cases. Some of these children have had very bad things done to them and normally the government would put them in simple orphanages. However, I can assure you that there is a lot of crap going on in many of them that would only make their trauma worse. Your daddy likes to throw money around when it comes to orphanages, but he never once bothers to see if that money actually gets there."

Damian's brows drew together briefly before he asked another question:

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Jason snorted in amusement:

"Thank God she's not. She's got just as much fire in her rear as her mother. Heaven help you if you tease those Mexicans. She's a friend. However, Lupita is still trying to set me up with her daughter over her food. I'm telling you, once you're invited to their house, you're instant a part of the family and you won't get out of it anymore."

"How do you know all these people, anyway?"

Jason just handed him the last plate and was already drying his hands:

"Let's go outside. Then I can finally have a smoke and won't have the risk of Marie hearing us. The walls are very thin and the girl has ears like a lynx."

Damian furrowed his brows in confusion:

"Why don't you smoke in here? It doesn't usually bother you."

The Outlaw hung his dishtowel over one of the chairs.

"I too have my principles peck. Except for you, I don't smoke in front of kids. So come on." grumbled Jason and together they left the kitchen.

Once outside, they sat down on the steps in front of the front door and Jason was already lighting his cigarette when Damian continued their conversation:

"So, how do you know all these people? I always thought you didn't really care about others."

Jason took one pleasurable drag on his cigarette and looked across the street before answering:

"You know peck, why don't we do it like this. Since we both know each other pretty little and each have questions, I'd suggest we take turns asking a question and answering it honestly."

Damian looked at him skeptically. That was a pretty big ask from the taller guy.

The Outlaw explained himself:

"I know we're both not big on talking openly with each other, and my only prerequisite for that is also that anything said stays between us. However, there are a couple of things I would like to know and I think you feel the same way. So, what do you say?"

The boy was still hesitating and thinking hard. He was unsure about the things Jason would ask him. After all, some information's could reveal some of his weaknesses, but was it probably no different for the Outlaw. After all, his record was the thinnest of all the Robins.

So he agreed: "All right. However, I'll start. So, how do you know all these people?"

Jason thought for a moment: "Well...I guess I'll start with Nayeli. I used to chase a drug gang in this town that was pretty tough. I was able to overpower them, but a few of their shots got me good. I wanted to run home, but my body couldn't take it anymore and I collapsed here in front of the house. Nayeli found me and patched me up. So she knows that I am Red Hood, but she is also the only one. Since Lupita is her mother, I got to know her quickly too and as I said, enter their house once you won't get out of there again."

Jason snorted briefly in amusement:

"So just don't accept her invitation to dinner. The woman will take anyone in."

His expression now turned more serious:

"Lupita and her husband Ernesto had to emigrate from Mexico with their children almost twenty years ago. Originally they lived in Mexico City, but in the course of a gang war that was raging in the suburbs, their house was destroyed. In the process, their then youngest son Rafael also died. They didn't have money for a new house and also had bad chances to earn enough for a new one. For this reason, they emigrated illegally to the USA. There are many more good paying jobs here and it was their only real perspective. They still don't have much money, but I have more than enough, even if I have to force them to take it. For example, I'm helping to finance this orphanage now, since there's very little money coming in from the state here, too."

Damian became thoughtful. For him, money had never really mattered, as he always had plenty for his own uses. It was difficult for him to comprehend destitution.

"Well, and since Nayeli runs this orphanage, I've gotten to know all the kids and their fates accordingly. But if I'm honest, these are the lucky ones. You don't want to know what goes on behind Gotham's doors and how many abused people go undetected. Believe me, I know firsthand. By the way, I was surprised that you got Ben to smile. It's really rare for him to do that."

Damian looked up confused: "Who is Ben?"

"He was sitting across from you in the playroom when I took you guys to dinner. He's actually very withdrawn and hard to trust anyone. He's one of our tougher cases."

"Why?"

Jason's hands tightened and he turned bitter:

"He lived alone with his father until six months ago. That man was an alcoholic and not only abused him, but also raped him. I gave this pig a bullet in the head afterwards, so that he can never do something like that again. Ben has suffered severe psychological damage and has only recently started to talk again. In my opinion, if you let criminals like that live, you become a criminal yourself, because you could have prevented future acts."

Damian's brows drew together:

"But Father always says that killing is bad and when you kill someone, the number of criminals remains the same."

Damian could visibly tell that Jason was getting really pissed off at this topic. The outlaw spat back at him:

"Don't give me that bullshit morality. Sure kill one criminal and the number stays the same. Kill a hundred and it's 99 less. Because of his bullshit 'Batman doesn't kill' shtick, so many have died or had their lives fucked up. How many times did Joker break out of Arkham and kept killing? Doesn't that automatically make Batman an abettor because he could have prevented it? This laughing murderer killed Marie's parents in front of her and poured acid on her for fun. Because that's what happens when you don't take out people like the Joker right away. Batman doesn't kill people, but by doing so he only destroys countless families and lives. It will never end. Is this your form of justice?! If I didn't have this stupid deal with Bruce, half of Gotham's criminals would already be burning in hell! This fucking snob thinks he's doing the right thing, throwing money around like it's worthless paper. But he doesn't have a clue about this world because he's never been a part of it and is always just eating lobster in his Manor or pursuing his self-appointed justice at night disguised as a bat!"

Damian looked in bewilderment at Jason's angry face and saw him force himself to calm down. Apparently this was a really touchy subject for him. But something caught his attention:

"What kind of agreement?"

But, the taller one didn't answer that question:

"First it's my turn. Do you still have ties to the League of Assassins?"

The question answered itself pretty easily.

"No. Grandfather made it pretty clear that they would kill me if I even crossed paths with them, and the last time I saw Mother she had a knife to my throat. So I'm completely out of there."

Jason's brows drew together:

"That's really an asshole club. Even when I was with them, everyone within was just cold bastards. No wonder you were a complete asshole to begin with."

Damian growled sourly: "Todd..."

But he wasn't impressed: "Well, it's true. You broke into my house and stole not only my bike, but also my helmet. You almost killed Tim, and from what Dickie had told me in parts, it must have been such a pain in the ass to have you as a partner. If I'm honest, I don't think anyone could stand you in the beginning and except for Dick, no one wanted to have anything to do with you. A disrespectful brat who doesn't care about people."

Damian clenched his hands. He didn't like how openly Jason laid everything out on the table. But he also couldn't deny that what he said wasn't true. Even if he wouldn't admit it, Damian had made many mistakes in the past. That made him all the more surprised by Todd's next sentence:

"However, I must say that Dick did a good job on you, and by now I even like you a bit."

He grinned cheekily at the small boy and nudged him once encouragingly: "But you'll still be an annoying roommate."

That gesture elicited a slight smile from Damian before something caught his attention:

"Wait Todd, you were a part of the League?!"

Jason leaned back, relaxed:

"That was years ago. Your lovely mommy was the one who wanted to bring me back, after all, and since my brain was pretty screwed up, I lived and trained with them for a while. Even now I don't remember much from that time, but I actually think we ran into each other there once. I definitely remember that there was a boy there who was supposed to do a public execution and was covered in blood afterwards. Could it have been you?"

Damian could remember that day well. He was maybe 5 years old when he was supposed to carry out that execution. It was the worst of all executions that the League had and was only carried out on traitors. It involved gradually cutting out the muscles and other non-vital parts of the body, leaving the victim to die a slow and agonizing death. Nothing he was proud of, but it was required of him at the time. Damian nodded hesitantly before glumly asking his next question:

Tell me Todd, while we're at it, what was it actually like in the Larzarus Pit? I've only ever seen it with grandfather, and he did become young again, however he was never in his right mind in the first moments. What's happening in there?"

Jason screwed up his face. He hated this topic and normally he would block it right now. However, it was his own rule to answer honestly. He closed his eyes and answered strained:

"This is not something I would wish on anyone. These pits are the greatest crime against nature and anyone who has used them knows it. I don't know how Ra's feels about it, since he wasn't dead, but in my perspective, I have by far never had to go through anything so horrible. The first thing you realize is that what is happening to you right now is wrong. Your whole nature is fighting back and telling you that you don't belong here. You are drowning and yet you are not. You are dead and yet you are not. You can hear everything on this planet screaming wrong, wrong, wrong. And yet you continue to be sent through this hell until you are finally released, what felt like days later. But by then your mind has already said goodbye and if you don't have a strong spirit, you remain a monster unloved by mother nature. Even today, I don't expect everything up there to run as smoothly as it did before."

Jason sighed heavily:

"Next time I die, please incinerate me before someone steals my body for their purposes again. I'm not up for this shit a second time and I want my peace."

Damian smirked in a played mean way:

"Don't worry Todd. Nobody wants your rotten meat anymore anyway."

Jason returned the expression: "Well, it still seems to be enough for you. Otherwise you wouldn't be here right now."

The Outlaw cracked his neck once before his second question came:

"Alright, let me get a little more personal. What do you actually think about your parents? And like I said, honest answers."

Damian thought hard. That was a pretty personal question, and he had to think twice about how to answer it. He was having a hard time telling Jason this:

"I...I'm not sure. When they clash, they just fight and I've gotten used to it, but still it's...a shame. Until I came to Father, my life consisted only of living up to Mother's and Grandfather's expectations. However, I can't say that Mother lived up to your typical image of a mom. She always kept a certain distance from me and actually she only ever had father in mind. Meanwhile I think that I am just another one of her experiments. After all, there are enough clones of me to populate an entire island."

"Ouch, she made clones of you too? That woman is really nuts."

Damian kept shrugging his shoulders:

"As everyone always says, you can't choose family. Regarding father, it's similar that he also maintains a certain distance. However, he has no expectations of me. At least not to the extent that I know from mother. And even though our differences of opinion mean that our paths are diverging at the moment, I know that I am important to him, which is why I want to clarify the matter with him afterwards. And I know you don't see it that way, but you're very important to father, too."

Jason just snorted disdainfully: "Pff, not nearly as important as the Batman is to him. If he ever lets Bruce out and is halfway back to being a normal person, I might even buy it. But not with this mask he hasn't taken off in years."

Damian's thoughts suddenly flashed through his question from the beginning:

"What is this deal you were talking about earlier, anyway?"

Jason's good humor promptly evaporated as he began his account:

"Well, since Bruce's number one rule is not to kill, and I've slaughtered quite a few criminals in Gotham, he's given me an ultimatum. If I don't kill any more in Gotham, I can be part of the family again. If I kill even one person in Gotham, he puts me on his personal target list, which, by the way, is also the Justice League's target list. I would then have the same danger status as Joker."

Again, Jason took a drag from his cigarette before adding:

"However, I'm not sure if it's really worth it. Half the kids you saw today are only here because of these scum of criminals. And what else is this so-called family. The only one of you I have contact with sometimes is Tim and there's nothing to do with Dickie right now. You are also just here, because of him."

Damian looked down at his knees, slightly depressed. He wasn't sure he really wanted to show Todd that, but felt it would probably be better:

"In fact, Richard said we never really thought of ourselves as a family." Damian pulled out a small cell phone sized computer and played the recordings, Dick had left behind. He had kept them from Jason until now, not knowing how the taller man would react.

At first, Todd's eyes grew wide with disbelief. Then, however, he became strangely quiet and just listened to the audio while he kept smoking.

Finally, the audio went silent and Jason stubbed out the rest of his cigarette. With slight humility Damian looked at the taller one and already wondered if he would try to strangle him again. However, to his astonishment it came quite differently.

Threateningly Jason growled: "That little motherfucker..."

Damian's brows went up in wonder.

"This little motherfucker says I look like an angry red smiley?! If he's back to normal, I'm tacking a poop emoji on his stupid face!"

Damian could not believe what this moron was saying. Is that all he cared about?

"That's what you're worried about Todd? Seriously?"

Jason just shrugged his shoulders, unimpressed:

"What do you expect me to do? Am I supposed to start crying here now because the monkey put down his soulstripty? If he wants to make something clear, he should make an effort to be himself again and then tell me what's on his mind. I can't change the fact that he spent a shitty time in hell. I can only help him to restore his memory. However, peck, I'm not sure if that happens he will be the same Dick again."

The Outlaw pointed one of his fingers at his own head:

"This up here, is far more sensitive than many think." and Damian's brow furrowed. In fact, it was clear to him that Dick might have suffered psychological damage. Still, he would not let it get him down and would do everything he could to regain his memory.

Jason continued: "Okay brat, it's my turn again. What is this between you and Timmy anyway?"

Damian's expression darkened. It was simply a question he didn't want to answer:

"He's a stupid lickspittle and that's it."

The Outlaw just rolled his eyes: "We both agreed to be honest and some topics aren't pleasant for me either. So would you have the goodness?"

Damian gritted his teeth before hesitantly beginning:

"He...He's my competitor and...t...."

"What was that? I didn't catch that last one."

"Talented!"

Jason had to stifle a grin. Now it was getting interesting.

"He's good at what he does, and I think Father still trusts him more than me. Drake is excellent with various technologies, is not inferior to Father's mind in anything and learns quickly. He also finds it easy to win people over. He could be a good Batman and I don't want that! Then who am I?"

The Outlaw couldn't help but grin. The whole thing seemed more than familiar to him. So he answered:

"Do you think it was different for me with Dickie? He was my rival. I studied his files all the time to find his weaknesses and be better than him. You know peck, I understand that you put pressure on yourself to impress your daddy. That's why you want to be the best Robin. I know what that's like. Having the perfect Dick Grayson as your precursor and just being his replacement is really not pleasant. But unlike me, you already have someone who failed before you. None of us is better than the other. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Lupita always used to say 'The water you can't drink, let flow.' Believe it or not, Dickie has a lot of weaknesses and I can reassure you about Tim. He doesn't want to be Batman either, and he'll probably quit in a few years."

Damian's ears pricked up. Was he serious?

"As you said, he has no problem gathering people around him, and those people are too important to him to put them in danger with his second life. After all, the turkey sitting in my apartment right now is the best proof that not everything always runs smoothly in this job. He often thinks of his teammates as a kind of family. Timmy is not made for this life. He's better off in a normal one, where he can indulge in the research he loves and no one can do to him what was done to the rest of us."

Jason snorted in amusement:

"Because let's face it peck. Dick has a birdbrain by now anyway. My childhood was shitty, but nowhere near as shitty as yours and the bad thing is you don't even know it. Timmy's the only normal among us."

Damian looked at him confused and Jason began to explain the difference between them:

"You know Kiddo, although my parents used to fight too much like yours, but unlike you, I know what it means to be a kid. I had the opportunity to observe other children with their perfect families and knew how it should be. You, on the other hand, know only adults and discipline. Believe it or not, you were crippled into a robot without even knowing it. And that's what made you so dangerous, at least initially."

Damian grimaced in annoyance before Jason added:

"Now don't tell me you wouldn't have stuck a knife in my back in the beginning if you'd had the chance."

Damian had to admit to himself that the taller man was not wrong. After all, Drake almost bit the dust. But Jason was no better an the boy just mumbled to himself:

"tt, and that from someone who shot me at our first encounter."

Finally, Damian asked his next question: "Well Todd, there's pretty little in the records about you regarding your past. This Amala didn't want to tell me anything more specific and only said that you had almost given up on yourself. Who were you before you met Father?"

The boy watched in amazement as Jason winced and his eyes narrowed before he hissed: "That garrulous old hag."

He looked at Damian with a depressed expression: "Do you really want to know?"

The short boy nodded and Jason began to narrate with a long groan:

"Let's put it this way, before I was seven, everything was halfway normal. My father and his wife, who I thought was my mother, were reasonably happy, except at mealtimes, when they were always fighting fiercely. But then I just sat down under the table with my dog Charlie and ignored them. Man, that mutt was really great. I went to elementary school normally and even though I already started to envy the other kids at the time, I still had it good.

But then my father got involved with a couple of bad guys and was imprisoned for life. The woman, who called herself my mother and already had a drug problem before, then fell for them completely. Our place got dirty, money was only for her drugs and since she didn't pay for my school anymore, I didn't go there either. Instead, I could watch for a long time how the drugs ate up her body more and more and at some point I didn't care so much that I also started smoking. I think I was eight or so. Anyway, that's how the next two years passed before I found her body in the bathtub one morning, as expected. You know what the golden shot is? It's the drug shot that ends your life. Whether it was suicide or not I don't know, but at that point I didn't care because I had my mind set on that day anyway. I just know it would end like that someday.

So the CID picked up her body, I was put in the next best orphanage, and ran away from there a short time later because it belonged to a ring that was abusing children. So I was a street kid by the time I was ten. But I had no idea how to survive on the streets. Nobody helps you in Gotham. You're more likely to get mugged for your last two dollars. The so-called giving up that Amala was talking about then refers to my first winter I spent outside. When it gets cold, all the homeless retreat back to whatever shelter is available and since in Gotham they say the strongest survives, it's not uncommon to be evicted from yours. The days got colder and the nights longer without a roof. At some point, my hunger even drove me so far that I simply smashed the window of a bakery at night with a brick and I ate the bread like a wild animal. Got a really good beating by the policemen afterwards.

But it doesn't matter what you do and how much you hope. Nothing changes and when everyone treats you as scum, you eventually believe it yourself. When it was deepest winter and the standard color of my fingers was already blue, I would have done anything for a little warmth and something to eat. Then a man took notice of me and offered me a job in his pleasure house. I already didn't care about anything, so I agreed, knowing that I probably would have had to satisfy some perverts. However, just before we got to his place, Dave saw me and pulled me away from that bastard. Although I resisted him, since I had already decided to follow the man, but Dave can be pretty stubborn. Finally he dragged me away and took me in. Or rather in the crumbling building where he lived. He then showed me everything you needed to know to survive on the streets and I had a lot to experience and get through with him over the next two years. I think that was one of my best times. However, at some point I came back from one of my forays and he was no longer there. Later I found out that he had been beaten up by some assholes for fun and was in a coma in a hospital. His luck was that they found those fuckers and had to pay for his stay. But I knew nothing of all this and thought he had also left me. *

For the next few months I fended for myself until one night I saw the Batmobile standing there and I can tell you, some people would kill for rims like that."

Jason laughed now: "You should have seen the look on the old man's face. I don't think anyone has ever had the balls to steal his tires. And well, you know the rest."

Damian agreed and replied cynically: "Maybe not tires, but I've stolen the Batmobile many a time. I can well imagine the face father makes."

They were amused by this for a moment before the Outlaw asked his next question:

"Well Kiddo, it's my turn again. Why did you give up the Robin?"

For his answer, the smaller one didn't have to think long: "Father doesn't see me as his partner and has constantly excluded me from Richard's case. As Robin, I am nothing more than his shadow and I don't want to be just that. However, father does not understand this, which is why I have taken off this mask. He pursues his methods without even considering mine and it's just been enough for me, especially for Richard's sake."

Jason rubbed the bridge of his nose in bewilderment:

"Ai-jai-jai peck. You've got something mighty wrong there.

The Robin isn't someone Batman makes us into, nor is he his shadow, but someone who keeps his demons in check. Why do you think Bruce takes in so many of us? Besides, it wasn't him who created him either. We decide for ourselves whether we want to live up to his mantle, and for each of us there is a different motivation behind it. Be it simple justice, a new life or the pure excitement of being able to be a hero. And in the end, every Robin learns that there is much more to it than that. Also, I think it's sacrilegious that you in particular just trampled on the Robin. After all, specifically in your case, it wasn't Bruce who gave you the mask, but the one who created it."

Damian looked up in surprise and then thoughtfully to the floor.

He pulled something out of his sweater. The boy didn't know why, but lately he always had this bracelet with him. Depressed, he replied:

"Richard gave me this. He told me to give it back to him if I knew who my Robin was."

Jason looked at the sparkly thing for a moment before raising a brow:

"And do you know?"

The boy shook his head dejectedly:

"I'm not sure. For a while I thought it was simple justice that made him. But that doesn't seem to me to be the right thing to do, since everyone understands something different about justice. In fact, my view of justice is similar to yours. If you kill your enemies, they will not come back. But the problem is the hatred that is stirred up. If I kill the enemy, I stir up hatred in his circles and may only make matters worse. If I let him live, he will continue to stir up hatred. Now which is the right way?

The Outlaw casually scratched the back of his neck: "No one can tell you that, as you should make up your own mind."

Jason looked to Damian with a smile as he pulled a small piece of fabric from his hoodie:

"So I would suggest you keep looking for your own answers. I may not have the uniform anymore, but at least I still have this."

Damian's eyes widened in disbelief when he saw the green piece of cloth in Jason's hand. Hesitantly, his slender fingers grasped the old cracked leather and finally examined it more closely. It was Jason's old mask, from when he was the Robin.

"I'd pocketed it in case criminals ran into us and you needed to hide your identity. You can have it."

Spellbound, Damian continued to stare at the old mask. He didn't know what to say to that.

Finally Jason looked at his watch and then took over that part:

"Sleep time is over. I'd suggest we stay until afternoon and then head back, so the turkey doesn't mess up anything."

Damian just nodded and put the bracelet and mask back in his hoodie before they disappeared back into the house. Both with a better understanding of the other.

When Jason and Damian finally arrived back at the apartment, the sun was already tilting at the horizon, bathing everything in a warm orange. Jason unlocked the door and both were more than stunned to see Dick ransacking the kitchen from a distance. All sorts of items and food lay scattered all over the room and Dick himself was totally white. Apparently he had made acquaintance with the flour.

Jason ruffled his hair: "What the?! My apartment!"

However, Damian paid little attention to him. Something else made the creases in his forehead deepen.

It was still bright outside and Grayson was awake. Actually, he shouldn't be. Normally, he shouldn't have been awake for another two hours. Strange.

When Dick saw the two of them, he ran up to them, beaming with joy, and Jason immediately realized the mistake he had made. He still had his cigarette in his hand.

So it took not even three seconds before the outlaw was also pulled down and this turkey was lying over him, snatching half the glow stick.

The flour swirled up and powdered around them, so that now even Jason was turning white:

"Arg...Damn Dick, off!...Stop...Get off. From. Me!"

He pressed his hands into the face of the half-bird and tried to push him away, while Damian watched the spectacle with little interest. A pile of idiots. There was nothing more to see. He just went on and took one of the apples lying around from the floor, rubbed it clean on his hoodie and bit into it, before he sat down on the couch to do some things on his computer.

Finally Jason managed to fight his way free and padded the flour off his clothes, while he said sourly:

"If this keeps going, I'll think twice about quitting smoking. Nobody can stand that shit!"

Damian didn't look up as he dryly replied: "You're long overdue for that anyway."

At that, the Outlaw just grumbled to himself.

Suddenly Dick began to snort. Apparently some of the flour had gotten into his nose and was now irritating his airways. A violent sneeze was the result and a gush of ice formed immediately in front of him, shock-freezing everything in its radius. Puzzled, both Jason and Damian looked at the sudden onset of winter in the apartment and the Outlaw asked in confusion: "That's new, isn't it?"

Damian was confused as well. Grayson could breathe ice? He hadn't done so once in the past few weeks.

Like a bolt of lightning, the boy was suddenly struck with a sickening suspicion and his eyes widened with:

"Oh no..."

Damian jumped up and walked over to Dick, who was tail wagging in delight at this attention. He took the clawed fingers in his hand and poked Dick's skin with one of the claws. Damian had noticed that so far only Dick's claws could penetrate it and the boy used this to draw a little blood now and then. However, he hadn't checked it for quite a while now, as this method didn't appeal much to the bigger one.

Nevertheless, he now caught the sparse drops and hurried to the bedroom, where he had set up his makeshift laboratory. Confused, Jason followed him and leaned into the doorframe:

"What's wrong now?"

Damian didn't answer him but spread the processed blood with a pipette over various chemicals to analyze their genetics. The various samples turned into different colors and the boy frantically intertwined his fingers in his black hair:

"No...no, no, NO!"

Damian checked the results again, however they remained the same. In a rush of desperate anger, he yanked all the things off the table and just shouted:

"What a goddamn mess!"

Jason understood nothing right now. But no matter what it was, this Dwarf still wasn't allowed to tear his place apart. Annoyed, he approached him about it:

"Good grief gnome, can you please leave those things alone? What's going on anyway?"

Damian didn't look at him, but just stood there with his fingers intertwined in his hair. Finally, he explained the situation:

"Richard doesn't actually have ice breath, but he bit Jon almost a week ago and also Superman and swallowed a lot of their blood. According to Raven, demons take on the powers of their victims and that's what's happening to him. He just won't stop mutating and changing his genetics. I might have been able to change back consistent genes, but not ones that permanently change! Such a SHIT!"

The little one was wandering up and down and seemed to be visibly stressed thinking, until he suddenly stormed past Jason saying: "I have to get out of here." and Damian was already opening the door.

The Outlaw was still shouting: "Damian wait!" when the door was already closing. Jason wanted to run after him, but unexpectedly his cell phone rang. He briefly glanced at it. Shit, he couldn't just ignore this call. Why did this bastard always have to hit the right moment.

He pushed the green handset aside and spoke angrily into the smartphone:

"What do you want, Bruce?"

Damian was angrily wandering the streets of the city. He was angry that the chances of Grayson's retransformation were getting worse and worse, and he had no idea how he was going to make it happen now. Even if Dick did regain his memory, what would become of him? Damian knew this jerk loved what little normalcy he had in Bludhaven. But if he remained this thing forever, he would no longer have a normal life and would have to hide so people wouldn't get scared.

Desperately, Damian gritted his teeth and, on impulse, hit the wall of the house next to him, cracking his knuckles.

Shit!...shit, shit, shit! What was he going to do? How to straighten out this mess?

Damian began to tremble with despair. He usually always had a way out. Always a plan B when A didn't work. But no matter how much he thought, there was just no plan B!

"Help! Somebody please help me!"

Suddenly, a desperate female voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Damian looked around. It seemed to be coming from an alley across the street.

"Help!"

He pulled himself together and remembered that he still had Jason's mask in his hoodie. He quickly pulled the old leather over his face and ran into the alley.

A blonde woman had just been mugged and was fighting off her attacker with all her might. With a quick leap, Damian rammed his knee into the attacker's face, knocking the burly man to the ground. An impulse of anger took over his hands and the boy began to beat the criminal in frustration. Damian didn't even notice how more and more blood covered his fingers and how the shocked woman ran away. He just wanted to punch something, and he didn't skimp on it.

At some point he stopped and just knelt on the chest of the now bloody man. Breathing heavily, Damian stretched his head toward the night sky. He had lost control and completely bloodied this guy. But the fact that he felt better now scared him and showed him only once again that the old assassin was still in him. Slowly, everything was just getting over his head. Man, he was tired.

He didn't even notice footsteps approaching behind him until suddenly something hit his head hard, accompanied by a metallic clang. Damian's ears rang as he dropped to the ground. Only vaguely did he hear the mocking laughter above him:

"Hehehe...Well, look at what I found. Seems like a little birdie has flown away. Batsy must be worried about you. I can't just let his little Robin roam around here, can I?"

He heard many footsteps trample into the alley when he was already half delirious. Damian blurrily saw the crowbar above him, from which a few drops of his blood were falling. Damn, that bastard had gotten him good.

"Boss, should we kill him?"

"Tell me Steve, have you ever had a little birdie as a pet? You have to lovingly clip their wings to keep them from flying away and losing even the last spark of hope for freedom."

Damian heard metal striking flesh again.

"That's Batman's little devil. He's not just going to get simply killed!"

Metal on flesh again. Damian saw the purple leather shoes now step in front of his field of vision before he was painfully pulled up by his hair.

Joker crouched in front of him, holding his face at eye level:

"No, these little Robins have to be handled with kind gloves. After all, Batsy hasn't shown his face in a long time and this little one is finally luring him back out to play. Hehehe... I'm curious to see if you last longer than your predecessor."

Darkly the clown chuckled and Damian's vision became more and more distorted, so that he was on the verge of fainting. His head was dropped again:

"Take him, but whoever touches even a hair on his head is dead. I want to save the fun for myself, after all."

Damian didn't understand. What the hell was Joker doing here and how exactly did he know he was Robin. However, he couldn't think any further about it as strong hands pulled him up and the boy finally fell into darkness.

*