#fbprompt

Jason wasn’t in any new pictures at the Manor. No big, or so he kept telling himself. There were other photos laying across the mantle with old and new faces. Many were of Dick with the Replacement and the Demon. A few framed photos on the mantle with Jason’s young face stared back up at him. Some were of him and Bruce, very few were of him and Dick. He didn’t recognize the smiling boy staring back at him. They were all moments of his life frozen in time before crowbars and exploding warehouses; before Lazarus pits and plans for revenge. Before his actions severed ties with the only man who gave a damn about him. The obnoxiously big “family” portrait towering over the fireplace, that conveniently did not include him, only solidified his place in this family. He wasn’t wanted, so why was he even here?

Coming back to the Manor had been a stupid move on his part. He shouldn’t have let Tim talk him into it, but the kid said he had intel on one of his cases. He wandered from the living room into the hallway toward the bedrooms and found himself in Tim’s room. Amongst the chaos of clothes, empty mugs, and file folders, there were two picture filled peg boards on the wall. As Jason got closer the photos were a mix of Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, Alfred and himself? The photos were mostly candid shots, some were posed, others in the field in uniform or in civvies. They were all group shots and Jason was mostly in all of them. When he thought about it, Tim always had some sort of camera with him. Jason never thought he made it any of the pictures.

“What the fuck?”

Before he could leave the room Tim walked in with a file folder and a smile. “Good you’re here. I got the intel that I-“

“What is all of this?” Jason interrupted, gesturing to the peg boards.

Tim’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Pictures of my family.”

“Why am I in them?”

“Because you’re my family.” Tim answered without hesitation. “I-I can take them down if they make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no. they’re fine. Just not…just not used to seeing…forget it.” Jason shook his head before he gave himself away to sentimentality. “Is that for me?”

Tim handed the folder to Jason. “Yeah, everything on Black Mask’s shipment dates, manifests, all of it. You alright?”

“Yeah, thanks Timmy,”

There's a chore chart in the kitchen of Wayne Manor. It started when Dick moved in. At the time it didn't need to be color coded, but Dick chose red anyway. When Jason moved in he immediately claimed the red marker leaving Dick to change to blue. When Jason died his name stayed on the chart but no one used the red marker in honor of him. The red marker came out of retirement when Jason came back. When Tim moved in he chose yellow, the same color as Robin's cape. Damian despised the thought of a chore chart, but truthfully he liked being included in something with the family even if it was chores. He was adamant he have the color green.

Jason hadn't been in the Manor that long, but old habits die hard. He couldn't help it. The instinct to always have food available and within reach was strong with him. It started with saving half his dinner and sneaking it into his room. It escalated to sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night and raiding the pantry.

Jason was meticulous and talented at arranging items so it looked like none of the food was missing. The only food item that gave him away was the bread. Jason loved bread. It was the one item he could count on to appease the hunger pangs. Living on the streets bread became harder to buy and even harder to steal. But now he was living in a house with a fresh loaf of bread any time he wanted. He started sneaking a couple slices each night.

It took about a week for Alfred to figure things out and confirm his theory that Jason was in fact hiding food, specifically bread.

Alfred wondered if teaching Jason how to cook and involving him in the preparation of his meals would help flourish a healthier relationship with food.

So every evening after Jason finished his homework, Alfred asked if he would like to help him make dinner. Jason jumped at the chance. Not surprisingly Jason’s favorite item to make with Alfred was bread.

There’s a tiny worn piece of paper that stays in folds of Jason’s wallet and never comes out. He keeps the paper neatly folded, hidden so it doesn’t fall out or rip. He’s not generally sentimental, but every time he cleans out his wallet the folded paper stays put. It was a reminder that help was available, even if there were many times he didn’t want it. The paper had been everywhere with Jason even through his time as Robin, it remained tucked safely into one of the many pockets of his utility belt.  It miraculously survived Jason’s death, and was then moved into a box with the remainder of his belongings and stored in his room at the Manor. It was reunited with Jason a few years ago when he snuck into the Manor to crash in his old room. He swiped the box labeled “Jason’s misc. things” and took it to his safe house.

Sifting through its contents he found the once coveted scrap of paper he had always had on his person. Singe marks along the edges told of the last place it had been. The ink had now faded, but the name and the phone number on it was still distinct. He never used the information on it when it was originally given to him. Too much pride in his new role as Robin had prevented him from taking advantage of the offer to call. Because calling the number on that piece of paper might just open up a part of him he wasn’t ready to admit, like sometimes being Robin was more scary than exhilarating; that maybe some days he was in a bit over his head with this whole sidekick thing; that maybe Bruce had made a mistake. Truthfully Jason had never been much of talker, and maybe that was the problem all along. He had convinced himself that Dick didn’t want to hear all his bullshit, even when Dick had given him permission all those years ago to ring him for anything he wanted even if all he needed was help.

He didn’t want to admit it, but right now help was exactly what he needed at the moment. Sure he had Artemis and Bizarro with him, but Dick had experience with circuses and their people.