So much for dinner.

Bruce had hosted this year's holiday party at Wayne Manor and invited his entire extended found family, plus several members of the Justіce League and their extended families in turn. Jason had been invited too, of course. He hadn't really wanted to go, but his brothers had convinced him. Loosen up, they'd said. It'll be fun, they'd said.

Well, it hadn't been. People had spent the night whispering about his presence. Bruce had made a halfhearted and ineffective attempt at shutting down the gossip. His brothers had all shot him apologetic looks. The air had grown heavy. Jason had stood up mid-meal, grabbed his coat, and left without a word. He'd probably made things awkward at the party, he knew, but right now, he didn't care. They should be glad he didn't blow up in their sanctimonious faces.

"Stupid dinner. Shouldn't have gone." He wasn't surprised that the streets were nearly empty. Everyone was home with their families, celebrating—even the criminals. The snow was coming down heavily now, and a fierce wind had picked up, blowing a flurry of white into his eyes. He blinked the snowflakes away and pulled his jacket closer around himself.

"F*ck me," he cursed, furious. The night kept getting worse. He didn't have a ride. Everyone was at that stupid party. He'd have to walk back. Just his g*ddamn luck.

A soft rustling behind him was the only warning he got. Jason spun around and his instincts kicked in, the adrenaline from his earlier anger propelling his fist forward, sending it flying toward the figure behind him. His knuckles collided with the figure's face, sending his attacker staggering backward.

Wait. That wasn't an attacker. "Oh, sh*t. Uh." God, tell him he didn't just break someone's nose. "F*ck. I'm sorry."