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Jason kicked down the stand of his bike a block from his apartment. Small lights were hung across the slightly cracked windows, his breath puffed against his face. Jason grabbed his groceries from the handles of his bike and walked out the alleyway, snow crunching beneath his feet.
He couldn’t believe it was December already. It’s been nearly seven fucking months since… Bruce’s death. Jason let out a small shaky breath he wants his dad back he wants to be held like he’s still worth something.
‘Course he’d leave when we’d need him the most. How fucking typical of him. He tightened his grip on the bags. Things were getting better. They’d reached a tentative agreement–Jason would avoid killing if possible and B would stay out of his business.
(Bruce’s eyes crinkled at the corner, and gave him a small smile “I’m just glad you’re alive chum”.)
Tim had made it into a game to ambush him during patrols and then would extort food from him. Dick would meet up with at the shitty fast food places Jason liked.
Jason felt his lips curl into a bitter smile. How naive of me to think that it would last.
Now Dick was barely holding up against the weight of the cowl(he looked paler and his eye-bags seemed to get darker each time Jason saw him.) Gotham had somehow gotten worse. Tim was fuck-knows-where–something about Bruce being alive(Jason wanted to believe Tim so badly but he saw the body and Jason can’t) He could only hope Tim was alive. Steph was dead, Cass was in Hong Kong.
The rest of them left were stretched thin.
The new kid–Damian– wasn’t doing much better. The kid got dropped off into an unfamiliar environment and then his Dad dies.
He pushed the door open and was greeted by the flickering florescent lights and peeling wallpaper of his apartment building. He walked over to the stairs, making sure to avoid the creaky step.
Standing outside his apartment door, Jason shifted his groceries to his left arm wincing as they dug into the bruises he got from last night’s patrol–a goon managed get a lucky hit in with a metal pole–He dug his keys out of his pocket and shoved it into the lock.
The door opened with a small click.
Sickly yellow light from the halls filtered into his studio apartment. Jason furrowed his brows, a few feet from the entrance was Damian sitting on the floor. His posture was rigid, hands subtly shaking. He looked upset–visibly so which was disconcerting.
Jason had no idea what to say, he hasn’t even fucking spoken to the kid outside of patrol. Why on earth would he even come to him(Jason wonders if Dick fucked up again wouldn’t be the first time). He let out a small sigh. Turning on the lights of his apartment, Jason kicked off his boots and placed the grocery bags on the floor. He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
Gesturing to the bags “Hey, mind helpin’ me put away these groceries?” Damian eyed the bags but stood and wordlessly took a few bags from the floor, and strode into the kitchen. Jason followed behind him. Placing the bags on the counter, Jason picked the eggs and began placing them inside the fridge.
“Where do you want me to keep the flour?”
Jason looked at the kid, and motioned towards a cupboard. “In there you’ll see a re-sealable container just empty the bag in that.” The kid gave him a small nod. (Should Jason say something?Ask him why he he was here?)
The only noise was Damian asking him where to put something. They worked in silence for the most part. Jason will admit he’s not the best at all this emotional shit. Hell none of them were–even Dick who is arguably the most in-touch with his ‘feelings’ can be a dumb-ass sometimes.
Maybe, Jason mused I could help him get his mind off of things?
He could make a cake with him if the kid was down for it.
Damian shuffled on his feet, the both of them stood there staring at each other. Jason felt the urge to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He tapped his fingers on the counter “Look I know somethings up and ‘sts why ya came here and– no kid listen, I’m fine with you being here and I’m not forcing you to talk about it.” Damian’s shoulders loosened a bit. He gave a small hum.
“But–” Jason continued “Since you’re here anyways, you might as well help me.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms “Help you with what?”. (It was the same look B gave them when he thought something was up. He looked so much like him it hurt).
Jason let his lips twitch into a slight smile. “Nothin’ much” Jason answered. “Was gonna bake a cake it was why I was at the store.”
Damian raised his eyebrow “You can bake?” He said incredulously.
Jason broke out into a full grin at that. “Hell yeah I can. ” The kid gave a small hum at that. Jason walked over to the cupboard, taking out the sugar, salt, baking soda and flour. “Kid are ya allergic to anything?”
Damian shook his head “None that I am currently aware of, but I do not consume any meat.”
“So you’re fine with eatin’ eggs n shit?”
A brief look of uneasiness flashed across Damian’s face. “I am fine with eating eggs.”
“But?”
“I do not condone how animals are treated in most industries, more often than not they have. abysmal living conditions.” He said softly. Which wasn’t surprising to hear considering all of the pets at the manor were adopt by Damian.
Jason rinsed his hands and mentally went over the recipes he had memorized.
Hmm… Bananas could be used in place of eggs, I don’t have any almond or coconut milk so water’ll have to do. Maybe I can add molasses to it?
“Go wash you’re hands, and then from the fruit and vegetable compartment take out two bananas and mash ‘em . The potato masher’s in that drawer. I’ll take out the bowls”
Jason walked over to where he keeps the bowls. He took out two from the from the top-left cupboard, and placed them onto the counter. Jason moved towards the spice rack and grabbed the cinnamon, dried ginger, nutmeg, vanilla powder and all spice. He also took the measuring cups.
Jason threw one of them at Damian. Damian gave him a withering glare, kid looked offended as balls. Jason mentally snickered. “The sugar’s in front of you. Add one scoop of the cup I threw at ya. The you want to take a saucepan from–” He pointed towards the cupboards where he kept his pans “–there and pour ¾ cups of water and heat it up till its warm–not boiling– and add molasses then the oil.”
Damian just stared at him, “And will you not tell me how much to add?”
“I don’t really measure it, jus’ add the amount that feels right. If ya don’t trust yourself then ask me.”
He measured out 2 cups of flour, a teaspoon of baking soda and half a teaspoon of salt and added them to the bowl. Jason estimated around a teaspoon of the ginger, vanilla and cinnamon, grated the nutmeg into the bowl. He threw in a pinch of all spice, and whisked the ingredients until they looked homogeneous.
Damian brought over the saucepan to where he was working, “You also did not tell me where the molasses was.”
Jason blinked. “Its in the fridge.”
Damian clicked his tongue and walked over to the fridge. He took out the molasses and handed it to him. “Although Pennyworth often proclaims that baking is an exact science, you do not seem to measure out certain ingredients you put in.”
“Alfie’s correct it’s just that I’ve been makin’ this for so long that I don’t need to measure the ingredients anymore.”
Jason felt something is his chest pang. When ever his momma would go clean, she’d get food stamps and made this cake. He would sit on the counter and chat her mom’s ear off about anything and everything.
She’d laugh and tell him stories of when she was younger(“Your grandma taught me this recipe” )
When the cake was in the oven she’d twirl and dance with him till it was done. He wished she’d stay clean. Every time he thought it would be different–Willis would come back and mom would reach for her needle again. He just wanted her back.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
You’re fine. Its not even the exact recipe.
Jason grabbed the loaf pan and lined it with baking paper. He passed it to Damian who poured the batter into the pan. He set the oven’s temperature to 350 degrees. Damian handed him the pan, he placed it in the oven.
Damian carefully picked up the the bowls and placed them in the sink. He gave a quick glance over to him. “So this is one of Pennyworth’s recipes?”
“No, my mom used to make this.”
“Oh.”
Damian shifted on his feet. The kid leaned against the counter and looked away at the window. “Was-Do you…miss her?” His voice was barely a whisper.
Oh he misses Talia.
Jason rubbed his palms against his pants and let out a small shaky breath. “Yes and no. I know she loved me–” but not enough to quit “–but she still hurt me, so it’s…” Jason trailed off.
“It’s hard to put in words.” He admitted softly.
Jason looked at the kid. Damian had his head tilted, nose slightly scrunched. He looked to be deep in thought.
“C’mon there’s still 40 minutes left for the cake to be done. Ya ever watched Avatar?”
Damian shook his head and followed him to the living room. “No I have not.”
Jason flickered on the lights. The kid sat on the couch curling his arm around the top his his knees, and leaned his head on them.
“I’m surprised Dick hasn’t dragged you to watch it.” The corner of Damian’s mouth twitched “He deemed it more important that I catch up on Disney movies.” He huffed a small laugh at that. The kid looked better to say the least.
It made something in his chest warm. He had fun, after all the shit that has happened the past year. This was a nice break… Jason leaned back into the couch and turned his attention back to the movie.
Jason let himself hope.