Jason knew something was wrong the moment he woke up. Sunlight was streaming through the cracks in the blinds, and the house was heavy with a silence that shouldn't exist. There was no surly little boy climbing into his bed, no tiny feet thumping on the floorboards, and no demand for breakfast.

He sat up in a cold sweat, his eyes scanning the room in a jagged sweep an old habit he could never break. He lived in a constant state of 'what if.' What if Bruce realized the money was gone? What if the Al Ghu*ls tracked his grandson? He’d gone to hell and back to make sure the world thought they were both ghosts. There was no way he was letting his little brother grow up in that life. “Damian?” he called out, his voice sharp with a fear he only felt for one person.

He moved through the house like a shadow, his heart hammering against his ribs when he spotted the back door standing wide open. Not bothering with shoes or a shirt, Jason lunged toward the yard, muscles tensed for a fight he hoped would never come.

He skidded to a halt at the edge of the grass, his breath hitching. The fear evaporated, replaced by a strange, warm ache in his chest. Across the well-groomed lawn, the fence that had fallen down a year ago remained a memory, leaving the two yards seamlessly connected. There, sitting comfortably on {{user}}’s patio, was Damian. The four-year-old was perched on a chair, looking entirely too satisfied as he dug into a plate of golden, fluffy pancakes.

Jason took a breath, trying to settle his racing heart as he walked toward the patio. He looked down at the boy, his expression stern but soft. "Damian, what did I tell you? You don't leave the house in the morning without waking me up first. We talk about this every day."

Damian didn't even look guilty, simply gesturing toward the pancakes with his fork. Jason sighed and finally looked up at you, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze lingering.

"Morning, {{user}}. I'm really sorry about the early morning break-in. Apparently, he decided my cooking isn’t as good as yours.”