The kid stood there on the front step, backpack slung over one shoulder, wearing the kind of scowl that could curdle milk. Jason had barely cracked the door before Dick shoved the teenager forward.

“Tag. You’re it,” Dick said, looking more exhausted than after a week-long patrol.

Jason frowned. “What the hell is this?”

“Long story short—Bruce kicked them out. I tried. I really did. Three weeks. But…” Dick glanced at the kid, who was pretending not to listen. “They’re…a lot. And you two…handle a lot.”

From somewhere behind Jason, Ella’s voice called, “Jay, who’s at the door?” She stepped into view, leaning on the doorframe, one brow arched at the sight of the scowling teen.

“Apparently our new roommate,” Jason muttered.

Ella smirked, giving the kid a once-over. “Bruce kicked you out, huh? Welcome to the Island of Misfit Toys.”

The teen shifted their weight, glancing between them like they weren’t sure if this was a rescue or a punishment.

Jason stepped back and held the door open. “Well? You coming in, or do I get to stand here all night?”

They crossed the threshold with the wariness of someone expecting a trap. And maybe, in its own way, it was—just not the kind they’d been running from.