Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No, Jason does not like this. Not one bit.

But when did the world ever care about what he thinks?

And he's right there and Gotham really fucking sucks, so they really can't afford to not have Batman. He can't die.

Which is why he's lugging THE Batman back to his apartment at ass-a-clock at night. Because he can't exactly leave him there bleeding out in an alley way, even though he really fucking wishes he could. He also doesn't like the thought of having the vigilante knowing where he lives... but sacrifices must be made in order for his home city not to go into ruin if our main hero kicks the bucket.

So yes, Jason now has THE Batman (he can't stress this enough) in his home, on his couch, as he tends to his wounds... somehow the man isn't currently conscious, which could be due to, he doesn't know, maybe the fact that the only reason Jason even found the man was because he fell from the ceiling above where he was walking home. Exactly right in front of him too. The fall was pretty high up and he's pretty sure something... multiple somethings broke.

He's not surprised that nobody stopped to watch as he dragged THE Batman up the stairs and towards his door, considering the scene they made wasn't exactly... good. And anybody with brain cells knew to mind the business, especially when it came to weird shit in Gotham.

Luckily, he's prepared for when the very large- what do they feed him? Mini Banes? -man wakes up.

He's got his defenses set up and he knows for a fact that Batman won't be able to hurt him with these as his shields.

Jason doesn't notice when Batman wakes up. After all, Batman was trained by the best to conceal when he's conscious, in case of kidnappings and such. So when the man in his late thirty's, finally awakens he makes sure not to open his eyes. Doesn't change his breathing rhythm or make any unnecessary movements which will show that he's awake.

Just when he's deduced that he's not in any immediate danger, music begins to play.

"Are you playing here comes the sun by the Beatles?"

Jason jolts from his spot a short distance away from the older man. He looks back at the other with narrowed and determined orbs. Coughing into his hand real quick, the teen responds.

"Y-yes. Why? Is it affecting you in any way...?"

Bruce furrows his brows, his head is pounding and he hurts pretty much... everywhere. The music isn't helping what he's one hundred percent is a concussion.

"It's making my head feel worse. Turn it off"

Jason's eyes seem to flash in victory. He doesn't end up turning off the music though, especially since it's working in weakening the vigilantes state.

Bruce just looks at the man- boy really. A short lanky boy, with dark curly hair and surprisingly bright blue eyes. He reminds him of Dick when he was younger, and the thought leaves him softening at the boys presence. Although...

"Is that garlic around your neck?"

"...Yes."

"...Why?"

"You got a problem with how I dress?" Jason answered defensively.

"No, no... uh I think it looks nice"

"Oh"

"Yeah..."

Bruce has learnt not to question why kids are the way they are. After all, Damian brought home a cow the other day and declared the animal a new addition among the family. And Stephanie decided that his wardrobe needed to brighten up, so she glitter bombed the place. Tim just before patrol began told him that he had a dream that they were all cows and then asked whether he would stand in a field and eat grass with him.

Yeah, kids were... odd.

"Okay well you can call your team or whatever now"

"They should be on their way soon."

"Alright... uh, so I guess you can wait here until they arrive..." Jason shuffles in place, not exactly knowing how to talk to THE Batman. But his ma taught him manners so he might as well put them to use.

"You hungry?"

"No, no it's... fine." Bruce can't help but look at the boy dubiously.

"Nah, it's cool if you are, I can get you something to eat- uh, wait what do vampires even eat?"

What. Bruce is confused.

"Can you eat normal food or do you like, only drink blood?"

Wait, Bruce feels like there's a misunderstanding here. "I'm not sure what you mean-"

"What do you eat Bats? Normal food or blood? Or both, I guess"

Before Batman could respond to tell the boy that he isn't a vampire, Robin ends up crashing through the window.

"Oh man- dude, my window!"

Jason's exclamation echoes as shards of glass clatter onto the floor, the cacophony reverberating in the small apartment. He stands frozen for a moment, wide-eyed and disbelieving, before throwing his hands up.

"My rent just went up, dude!" Jason groans, hands flailing toward the jagged hole where a fully-costumed Robin now stands, completely unfazed.

"Window was unlocked. Could’ve opened it," Jason grumbles as Robin surveys the room, cape billowing dramatically despite the cramped quarters.

Bruce, still lying on the couch, winces at the chaos but remains remarkably calm. The throbbing in his head amplifies, but this kind of pandemonium is familiar territory.

Robin tilts his head, taking in the garlic around Jason's neck, the Beatles record spinning on the turntable, and the unmistakable tension in the room. His gaze narrows on Jason.

"Who’s the kid?" Damian asks with characteristic bluntness.

Jason scowls, pointing at himself. "I’m the kid who dragged your boss's very unconscious and very heavy body off the street so he didn’t die in an alley. You’re welcome, by the way!" He continued to mumble that he was also way older than the other brat, so he doesn't know why he's calling HIM, kid.

Damian’s expression remains neutral, though his eyebrows twitch slightly in surprise. "Batman doesn’t die in alleys. He survives them. Still, adequate effort for a civilian."

Jason throws his hands in the air. "Wow, thanks for the glowing review, Robin Hood!"

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and finally speaks, his voice calm but weary. "Robin."

Damian looks at Bruce as though the word physically pained him. Then, reluctantly, he mutters, "Although, thank you... civilian. For taking Batman to safety."

Jason squints at him. "Was that a thank you or a legal disclaimer?"

Bruce shifts, sitting up straighter despite the wince of pain. "I appreciate your help."

Jason blinks at him, visibly thrown off balance by the sincerity in Batman's tone. "Yeah, well... someone’s gotta make sure Gotham doesn’t go up in flames. And it’s not like anyone else was rushing to help."

Bruce inclines his head slightly. "Regardless. You went out of your way. That means something."

Before Jason can process the compliment, the sound of tires screeching to a halt below echoes through the room.

"Looks like the cavalry’s here," Jason mutters, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Guess this is where I get rid of you guys. Y’know, before my landlord starts asking questions about the literal superhero convention in my living room."

"Understood," Bruce says, standing carefully. He towers over Jason, but there’s a distinct lack of intimidation in his stance.

Jason eyes him critically. "Uh... you sure you can walk, Bats? I don’t wanna scrape you off my floor next time."

"I’ll manage," Bruce assures him. He looks Jason in the eye, his expression sincere. "You have my gratitude."

Damian rolls his eyes but doesn’t interrupt, following his father toward the door. Just before Bruce exits, he pauses and glances over his shoulder.

"What's your name?"

The teen hesitates but decides... why not?

"Jason."

Once he's the only living person in his apartment: he looks around at the broken window, the glass shards littering the floors, and the blood covered couch.

Fuck vampires, man.

Jason stands in the middle of his apartment, staring at the scene like it personally insulted him. He rubs a hand down his face, smearing sweat and a bit of Batman's dried blood across his cheek, and sighs deeply.

"This is why people mind their business," he mutters. He looks over at the shattered window, the glass glinting on the floor in the faint moonlight. His landlord is going to have a field day with this one. He already can hear Mrs. Delgado downstairs, muttering about "rowdy hooligans" and "those damn vigilantes."

Jason kicks at a stray shard of glass and surveys the blood-streaked couch with a grimace. "Great. Just great. Like I have 'mysterious vigilante clean-up' in my budget."

The turntable in the corner, still spinning quietly, clicks as the arm returns to its resting position. The silence is deafening, giving him just enough space for the absurdity of the night to sink in.

"Goddamn vampires," Jason mutters, finally collapsing into a kitchen chair. He grabs a nearby can of soda, pops it open, and takes a long sip. It doesn’t help.

There’s a knock at the door. He freezes.

"Who now?" He sets the soda down carefully, grabs the nearest blunt object—a rolling pin—and approaches the door cautiously. Peeking through the peephole, he sighs in exasperation when he sees a familiar red and black mask staring back.

Jason opens the door just a crack, glaring out. "What the hell are you doing here, Robin? Didn’t you and your boss just leave?"

Damian looks at him, unamused, holding a small toolkit in one hand and a bundle of fabric in the other. "Batman insisted. He said you’d need these." He pushes the items into Jason’s hands without waiting for a response. "A window patch kit and a couch cover. Do try to make better decisions about who you let bleed out on your furniture next time."

Jason blinks, torn between indignation and disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You’re acting like I chose this!"

Damian shrugs with the air of someone who has clearly decided this isn’t his problem anymore. "You’ll manage. Clearly, you’re not completely useless."

"Another thing." The shorter boy hands him a wad of cash, "this should be enough to repair everything. But until then, you'll have to make do with the patch kit and cover"

Jason’s mouth opens to respond, but Damian turns on his heel, tossing a final comment over his shoulder. "Make sure the garlic stays fresh. Just in case." For once in his life, Damian was only joking but Jason doesn't know this and the theory that the bats are all vampires becomes more of a fact.

The teenager disappears down the hallway, leaving Jason standing there, holding the toolkit and couch cover like they’re radioactive. He stares at the doorway for a long moment before muttering, "What is wrong with those vampires?"

Sighing, he shuts the door and looks at the supplies now sitting ominously in his living room. As much as he hates to admit it, they’ll be useful. Even if his life suddenly feels like it’s part of some bizarre vampire-hunting sitcom.

Grabbing a broom, he starts to sweep up the glass, muttering under his breath the entire time.

"Never again. If Batman ever falls out of the sky in front of me, he’s on his own. Gotham’s screwed. I’m not his nursemaid."

He pauses to take another swig of soda, glancing at the blood-stained couch one more time.

"...But for real. What do vampires eat?"

0o0o0

Jason spent the next few hours grumbling as he cleaned up the aftermath of his impromptu superhero encounter. The broken window was patched as best as it could be with the materials Robin had left behind, though it looked like a strong breeze could still take the whole thing out. The couch was draped in the cheap cover—black, of course, because what else would Batman’s spawn think was appropriate?

But at least he had enough cash to properly fix everything.

By the time he finished, it was nearing sunrise, and Jason was too wired to sleep. He sat on the edge of the couch, looking at his now slightly-less-chaotic apartment, when the knock came.

It wasn’t a heavy, purposeful knock like Damian’s earlier visit. This one was softer and more even. Jason froze. Who the hell could that be?

He stood, grabbing the rolling pin again- his trusty weapon of choice at this point -and made his way to the door. Peeking through the peephole, he saw a tall black and blue clad man who was also quite familiar.

Jason opened the door just a crack, his scowl already in place. "What? What do you want and why are you here at—" he checked the clock on the wall, "four in the morning?"

"I, uh, brought you food."

Jason blinked. "What?"

The man simply cleared his throat then offered a grin, "I was told you might not have eaten. So, here." He shoved the bag into his hands before he could respond.

Jason stared at him, then at the bag, then back at her. "Wait a second. You here 'cause of Batman?"

The man seemed to pause for a second, looking like he was debating whether or not to answer. "Yup, Nightwing though you may have heard of me-"

"I don't really care, man"

He laughed, "You're funny too! They did say you were pretty eccentric"

"Right, did they also tell you about my broken window?"

He snorted. "They might have mentioned something about that" He glanced past him into the apartment. "Wow, they weren’t kidding. You really do live like this."

"Excuse me?" Jason said, bristling.

The older man raised his hands defensively. "Hey, no judgment. Just saying, this place has seen better days."

Jason rolled his eyes, stepping back reluctantly to let him in. "Fine, come in. But only because you brought food."

He grinned, stepping inside and looking around. "Nice place you’ve got here. Very, uh... rustic."

"That’s not a compliment, is it?"

"Not even a little," He said cheerfully, plopping down on one of the less blood-stained chairs. "So, how was your first Bat experience? Traumatizing, I bet."

Jason slumped into the chair across from her, setting the bag on the table. "Wasn't my first actually, but definitely the weirdest. I was just trying to get home, and suddenly the guy falls out of the sky like a damn anvil. Next thing I know, I’m playing nursemaid to Batman and having his demon kid crash through my window. And now, apparently, the Bat Brigade does house calls."

Nightwing smirked. "Yeah, we’re thorough like that. So, what’s your deal? Civilians don’t usually drag vigilantes home to patch them up."

Jason notes how the vigilante includes himself as a bat.

Jason shrugged. "He was bleeding out. What was I supposed to do? Leave him there?"

"I mean, most people would’ve," he said, tilting his head. "So... thanks for not doing that."

Jason shifted uncomfortably, not used to this kind of attention. "Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta make sure this city doesn’t implode. And we're kinda relying on it being the bats being those somebody's."

Nightwing leaned back, studying him with a curious expression. "You’re weird, you know that?"

Jason glared at him. "You knock on people’s houses to deliver food while still in your hero get-up, and I’m the weird one?"

He laughed, holding up his hands. "Fair point. So, you gonna open that bag or what?"

Jason sighed, pulling the bag closer and peeking inside. It was a container of fries and what looked like a grilled cheese sandwich. He glanced at him. "What’s this supposed to be?"

"Comfort food," she said. "You look like you need it."

Jason rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, pulling out the fries and taking a bite. To his surprise, they were still warm. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or just even more confused.

"So," the older man started, leaning forward, "how's life"

Jason choked on a fry. "Seriously?"

"What? Just trying to make conversation" he said, nodding. "But right, clearly it isn't all that great if you're seventeen and living by yourself"

"I'm not even going to question why you know my age" Jason muttered. He paused, then looked at him. "Wait. Why’d you really come here?"

He hesitated. His usual carefree demeanor faltered for just a moment. "Batman wanted to make sure you were okay. And... to say thanks, I guess."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "He sent you to say thanks? Couldn’t do it himself?"

The man shrugged. "He’s not great with people. You’ll get used to it."

Jason snorted. "Yeah, I’m not planning to stick around long enough for that."

Nightwing hummed. "We’ll see."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the city’s distant sirens filling the gaps in their conversation. Jason wasn’t sure if he liked the vigilante or if he annoyed the hell out of him, but at least he wasn’t Batman. For now, that was enough.

Although Jason wonders if Nightwing is also a vampire?

Chapter Text

Tim Drake was baffled. Completely, utterly baffled.

For weeks now, he’d been hearing about some guy-some teenager, apparently-who had somehow managed to impress both Bruce and Damian. Bruce’s approval didn’t carry the weight it used to since his standards fluctuated wildly depending on the day, but Damian? The self-proclaimed heir to the Demon, with his holier-than-thou attitude and endless disdain for pretty much everyone? Damian had actually described this person as adequate.

Adequate. Coming from Damian, that was practically a declaration of undying loyalty.

So, naturally, Tim had his doubts. If this guy had managed to charm Damian, there had to be something sinister going on. No one impressed Damian unless they were evil-or at least insufferably smug.

Yet, as Tim observed the man in question throughout the day, he was growing increasingly convinced that this couldn’t possibly be the same person Damian had spoken about. And what he concluded about the older boy?

Jason was good.

Like, genuinely good. He had this tough, easygoing demeanor that didn’t make sense in the context of someone Damian tolerated, let alone liked. Yeah, sure he yelled a lot and seemed to get embarrassed easily but his words always held a protective or defensive quality to it that could make one feel... safe? Well, as long as it was said on their behalf, but even so, he was your usual crime alley-born kid yet at the same time was so much more...

He manages to navigate Gotham’s Crime Alley like he owned the place, but not in the aggressive, territorial way Tim might have expected. Instead, Jason moved with familiarity and ease, as if he were as much a part of the neighborhood as the cracked pavement and flickering streetlights.

What he saw simply made no sense.

Jason had spent his morning chatting with shop owners, running errands, and somehow managing to simultaneously charm and scold a group of kids trying to steal candy from a corner store. He’d handed out sandwiches to a group of homeless men like it was the most natural thing in the world, grinning through their jokes and jabs as if they were old friends.

Then there were the working girls. Jason treated them like older sisters, joking around and earning fond ruffles of his hair in return. He’d even handed out water bottles, casually slipping in little reminders to “stay safe” or “take the night off if you can.”

Tim watched, utterly perplexed. This was the guy Damian liked?

The weirdest part wasn’t even Jason’s wholesome interactions with the neighborhood. It was the way he spoke to people, especially kids. He had this sharp, protective tone, but underneath it, there was something warm-something that made people gravitate toward him. It wasn’t charisma in the typical sense, but it worked. Jason made people feel safe, like he’d throw hands with the entire world if it meant keeping them out of harm’s way.

That didn’t sound like someone Damian would respect. That sounded like someone Damian would dismiss as “a bleeding heart idiot.”

He simply couldn't wrap his head around the situation. What made this one different from all the other saps in the hero industry? What makes this stranger worth his family's attention when it took him so much longer to even get to this amount of interest, let alone from the demon brat who barely tolerates him on a good day and he can't help but reflect those feelings considering their history. He's not jealous. Just bitter.

0o0o0

Here Tim was, watching as Damian in his Robin getup-the same Damian who had claimed he respected no one outside of their family-practically shadowed Jason while he and the younger were patrolling alongside one another. We (unfortunately) ended up partnered up for the night, with there being no other option considering the rest of the bats were either pre-occupied in another part of Gotham, or on a mission outside of the city.

They were supposed to be patrolling just outside of the area, but someone (Damian) caught a glance of his latest human-shaped fixation and wandered off from their intended route. Tim being the elder one out of the two had no choice but to follow in order to keep the other boy out of trouble.

Which proved to be a reasonable worry considering once he caught up with the shorter boy, he was shown the image of the boy fighting a group of men. Who he recognizes as Jason Todd is on the ground and groggily nursing his head with his hand, as he stares at the scene blinking rapidly with furrowed brows. It was only five minutes in which he lost sight of Robin yet already so much is going in his absence.

He sighs.

Red Robin's help wasn't really needed, with Damian's skill as an ex-assassin being more than enough to handle a few thugs. So when the last man falls unconscious, he jumps down, landing next to his younger brother and offers him a scowl.

"What the hell Robin? You don't just run off like that. B won't be happy we strayed so far from our original route" And he can practically feel as Damian rolls his eyes behind his cowl, with that same glower on his pudgy little face. If it weren't for the fact that this was well, Damian, then he would have found the expression cute. But the first time he thought the boy was cute, he tried to kill him. And still, he continues the attempts even if it has tapered off from its past frequency.

"Tt, you're presence is not needed here. I was simply lending a helping hand to a civilian, or is that suddenly not our purpose out here anymore, Red Robin?" He spits out his alias in a condescending tone, and dammit, if it weren't for the fact that he was half his height he would have struck his staff out already.

"Don't test me demon, I'm in charge of you for the next few hours and I don't need your shitty attitude causing a mess"

"You already mess things up by existing!"

"Why you little-"

However, before he could respond with his own witty comment, the civilian in question butts in.

"Yeah, how about you guys save the chit chat for later. Seriously man, shit, this is going to fucking hurt for the next week" The oldest out of the three sighed, now standing but clearly worn out. "Thanks brat, I owe you one for the save. Penguins men are fuckin' annoying" Robin seems to tilt his nose up in pride at the thanks, gravitating closer to the teen which makes Red Robin's brow lift in curiosity.

Jason, for his part, seemed completely unfazed by Damian’s attachment to his person. Although he's looking between Tim and Damian with an emotion he can't seem to place...

Tim crossed his arms, watching the scene unfold with growing disbelief. Damian, who normally carried himself like a pint-sized dictator, was standing next to this random teenager with an air of… not exactly admiration, but definitely something too close to tolerance for Tim’s liking.

Jason Todd groaned as he rubbed the back of his head. “Man, these Penguin goons are the worst. It’s like they train for years to be professional headaches.”

“You shouldn't be out this late so really, you can only blame yourself. If not for my presence, you would have had more than a headache to worry about.” Damian said curtly, crossing his arms in a very Batman-esque way.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks again kid. Do you need me to give you my gratitude in writing or something?” Jason replied with a dismissive wave, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated. He turned to Tim, giving him a once-over. “And what’s your deal? You his babysitter or something?”

Tim’s eye twitched. “Babysitter?” And Damian himself seemed to hiss at the prospect of needing a babysitter.

Jason gestured vaguely at Robin. “You’re standing there looking all serious and shit, like you’re trying to keep the little guy from biting people.”

Damian bristled, his hands clenching into fists. “I do not bite!”

Jason smirked. “Right. Sure, you don’t. Totally believable.”

Tim suppressed a snort, which earned him a glare from Damian. “We’re partners for tonight,” Tim corrected. He turns to his little brother, hands on hips as he addresses the boy. “And if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t wander into fights without backup”

“Excuse me,” Damian snapped, standing on his tiptoes to look taller, “but I handled that situation with expert precision.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looking between the two. “Yeah, the brat ain't lying. He punched like five guys who were twice his size. Pretty sure that’s not what normal kids do on school nights, but whatever, I ain't gonna give out parenting advice to you weirdos” The seventeen year old mumbles the last part, thinking how odd vampires were.

“I’m not normal,” Damian said flatly, as if this were the most obvious fact in the world.

Jason snorted. “No kidding. What are you, like, twelve?”

“Ten.”

“Even better,” Jason muttered, shaking his head. But then, suddenly, Jason's eyes seem to snap to the shadows somewhere above and his eyes widen. Both Tim and Damian immediately are on guard, but when they look towards what seemed to spook the elder teen it was just... Cass? Cass but in her Batgirl costume. The two immediately relaxed, except Jason, who seemed to pull something out of thin air and is that... garlic?

Batgirl jumps down in front of them, only to have to dodge a barrage of... garlic. Tim stares at the older boy, who somehow now has a bag and necklace made out of... yep, you guessed it. Garlic.

why is there so much garlic on him anyways?

Cassandra seems to at least be equally as confused, as she dodges his throws. Damian grabs the boy's arm, stopping him from continuing the action with a questioning tilt to his head. "What is the meaning of this nonsense, Todd?"

Jason sends the younger a furrowed look, before shaking his head. Seemingly looking at Robin with a pitying glance. "Don't worry brat, I know how you guys are and I won't have a vamp fight break out in front of me. You saved my butt so I'll lend you a helping hand. Can't have you fighting again even if you're weirdly strong as fuck. I ain't letting a kid protect me."

Vamp fight? What is this guy on? Tim is so confused.

Cassandra seems to deem the other boy as not a threat because she allows the next throw to touch her. Jason celebrates.

"Gotcha, you leech!"

Tim goes in between, hands help up in the signature sign for a ceasefire, as he sends the guy a dubious look. "Okay, man, that's enough. She's not a danger-"

This time Jason throws another garlic clove at Tim. The silence after that drags on, as Robin seems to subtly turn his body away with his hand going up to cover his mouth. This leaves him standing with his eyes twitching. He glares at Jason as he seems to narrow his eyes at him now, mirroring his own glare in response.

"You're turning on your own team mate? I see how it is...you’re not fooling me, Drac Junior! I see the slouch in your form. I see the pale complexion. Not to mention how you interacted with Robin earlier... you're a traitor to the vampires you hid among! How could you turn on a child? What about Batman? You really gonna risk the Bat's anger once he finds out?"

Tim thinks the guy might actually be high on something, as he moves his staff to hit the next garlic clove sent to him. "Jason, stop throwing garlic at me! I don't know what is going through your mind right now, but you need to calm down and think for a second!"

Jason now has his phone out and is playing... The Beatles? Specifically 'here comes the sun' by the popular band. What is going on? And why is he only trying to hit him now? Batgirl is still there too...

"Not until you burst into flames! Or, y'know, die!"

"I'm not a vampire, you dunce!"

Jason looks at him with a sneer, holding up another clove "Yeah? Funny, because that's exactly what someone who was a vampire would say, huh? Real suspicious."

Red Robin refrains himself from throwing up his arms at the response.

Here Tim was, standing amidst what could only be described as peak Gotham absurdity. Damian seemed to have attached himself to Jason, who-for some unknown reason-had gone completely off the rails, and has decided to for once in his life not say anything as he watches his seemingly new favorite person attack his older siblings. And then there was Cassandra, standing a short distance behind him, watching the chaos unfold with what could only be described as serene amusement.

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t how patrol was supposed to go.

“Jason,” he started, voice dangerously calm, “put the garlic down. Now.”

Jason ignored him entirely, digging into his seemingly endless supply of cloves. “Don’t try to sweet-talk your way out of this you traitor! I see through your lies!” He hurled another clove, which Tim deflected easily with his staff.

“I won't repeat myself, stop throwing garlic at me!” Tim snapped, his composure finally cracking. “And I’m not even a vampire!”

Jason narrowed his eyes, pointing an accusatory finger. “As if I would believe the words out of a backstabbing bloodsucker!”

Tim sighed, letting his staff rest against his shoulder as he stared Jason down. “Okay, seriously. Where are you even getting all this garlic?”

“Trade secret,” Jason said smugly, holding up another clove.

Before Tim could respond, Cassandra stepped closer, holding up one of the garlic cloves Jason had thrown at her earlier. “Organic,” she said simply, popping it into her mouth like it was popcorn.

Tim blinked. “...Why are you eating it?”

Cassandra shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. “Tastes good.”

Jason stared at her, his confidence faltering for the first time all night. “Wait. You’re… eating it?!”

Cassandra nodded, still calm as ever. “Not a vampire.”

Jason scowled, muttering under his breath as he shifted his attention back to Tim. “Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

Tim groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Unbelievable.” He turned his attention to Damian, who was still watching the scene with an infuriating smirk. “This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t wandered off, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

Damian tilted his head, his expression one of faux innocence. “Tt. My fault? You’re the one who can’t seem to handle a minor misunderstanding. Perhaps you are hiding something, Red Robin.”

“Don’t start,” Tim warned, glaring at him.

“See!” Jason interjected, holding up another clove, “Even the kid sees something amiss. She might not be a vampire, though still not sure about being a potential enemy, but you! You are definitely suspicious" Damian seems to smirk at his logic, knowing damn well that everything he was spouting was wrong. Instead he seemed to encourage his train of thought.

"He is quite off-putting"

Cassandra chose that moment to step forward, gesturing between Jason and Tim. “Maybe he’s the vampire,” she said, pointing at Jason.

Jason recoiled, genuinely offended. “Me? Oh, come on! That’s rich coming from you! You may be immune to garlic but you still have that vampire vibe going on!” He gestured wildly at her, still clutching the garlic to his chest like it was his lifeline.

“Enough,” Tim said, his voice sharp as he stepped between Jason and Cass. “We’re not doing this. No more garlic, no more vampire accusations, and no more Beatles soundtracks. Got it?”

Jason frowned, glancing at his phone like he was considering playing “Here Comes the Sun” again, but a glare from Tim stopped him.

“Tt. A shame,” Damian muttered, clearly disappointed that the chaos was coming to an end.

Jason hesitated, glancing between her and Tim like he wasn’t sure who to target next.

“Jason,” Tim started, his tone dangerously low, “put the garlic away before I—”

Jason cut him off by throwing another clove. This time, it hit Tim squarely in the chest.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Damian, to his credit, at least tried to stifle his laughter, but the sound still escaped, muffled behind his gloved hand.

Tim stared at the clove, then at Jason, his eye twitching. “You’re insane.”

Jason shrugged, face carefully set in suspicion. “Or maybe I’m just the only one here who’s not under a vampire’s thrall.”

Tim opened his mouth to retort but stopped when Cassandra casually stepped forward, sweeping Jason’s legs out from under him with a single, effortless motion.

Jason hit the ground with a groan, glaring up at her. “What the hell was that for?”

“Too loud,” Cassandra said simply, brushing her hands off.

Damian smirked, stepping over Jason like he wasn’t even there. “Tt. Amateurs.”

Tim sighed, already regretting everything about this patrol.

A distance away, there's Oracle who is watching the scene while muffling her own laughter. She originally sent Cass over to check on the brother duo to see whether they're alright or not. But when the younger girl didn't respond with any reports on their condition, she decided to check the live cam footage on their suits to see what's going on. Only to be shown what she declares as comedy gold.

She's definitely sending the footage to Dick later.

This Jason Todd is just too interesting of a character for her not to want to meet him, herself. He seems good for the bats. She hasn't seen Damian laugh that much (no matter how much he tried to hide it)... ever, really. And despite Tim's irritation, he seemed to have relaxed more over the whole ideal. Even Cass seemed to have enjoyed herself during the discourse.

Yes, Jason will be good for them, she thinks.