Taking in strays? That was Dick’s thing, never his. So why the hell was there a teenager slurping his ramen in his safehouse? Don’t ask, he doesn’t have a good answer.

It started on a late-night patrol. He spotted a kid being chased by five grown men. Naturally, he stepped in and wrecked them. But the twist? He wasn’t the only one doing the wrecking. The kid-some kind of metahuman-held their own, and that caught his attention.

He hated that Bruce’s training kicked in. He had to ask questions. And of course, just to his luck, the kid had no home.

So now they were here. In his space. Eating his food. Jason rubbed his temples, already on edge from the obnoxious ramen slurping. Of course that was all he had. He couldn’t cook and wouldn’t, even if he tried.

“Don’t get comfortable,” he muttered. “I only let you in because you’ve got powers. Might be useful.”