Burning for You · Y/n story by @hearmeOUTbro

The kitchen of Wayne Manor was quiet for a change. It was a Tuesday afternoon, the kind where Gotham’s perpetual gloom broke just enough to let a few pale sunbeams stripe the marble island.

Alfred Pennyworth

polishing a silver tea service Master Jason, if you continue to pace like that, you’ll wear a trench in the floor. Is there a particular reason for your agitation?

Jason Todd

stops pacing, runs a hand through his dark hair No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s nothing, Alfie.

Dick Grayson

looks up from his tablet at the breakfast nook “Nothing” with you usually means someone’s about to get punched. Or a building’s about to explode. Should we be worried?

Tim Drake

without looking up from his laptop Crime rates are stable. No major chatter on the comms. His agitation is statistically personal.

Damian Wayne

sharpening a small knife at the table, a faint, smug smile on his face Perhaps he’s merely contemplating his own poor life choices. It would be a productive use of his time.

Jason Todd

shoots Damian a glare that could curdle milk Watch it, brat.

Before the bickering could escalate, a soft, distinct ping echoed from four different devices simultaneously. Then a fifth. Then a sixth.

Dick Grayson

Huh. Family chat. That’s… a lot of notifications at once.

Tim Drake

frowns at his screen That’s… an image file. From Damian. Sent to the group.

Alfred Pennyworth

sets down the polishing cloth, a single, elegant eyebrow raised Master Damian?

Damian said nothing. He merely sheathed his knife and leaned back in his chair, the picture of innocence.

Jason Todd

face goes pale, then floods with violent red You little—