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...Who will walk in?

It’s time to pick your adventure.

Renegade

“The Senpai”

Deathstroke’s mysterious apprentice.

He takes after his mentor—focused, serious, and determined. He is ruthless in the face of his enemies, and he keeps his secrets well. No one has ever figured out his true identity… Or have they?

Jason may have a few ideas himself...

It’s him!→

Jericho

“The Sweetie”

The mysterious member of Defiance.

Mute from a childhood injury and communicates through sign language.

There may be more than a few secrets to learn from him...

It’s him!→

Ravager

“The Rebel”

Rose Wilson, Slade’s daughter.

She’s the closest to Jason’s age.

And the most talkative.

It’s her!→

Deathstroke

“The Daddy”

Slade Wilson, the infamous leader of the team.

Does Jason really want this to be the first face he sees after his kidnapping? There’s one way to find out.

It’s him!→

Chapter 2: Renegade(1)

Chapter Text

Footsteps close in, combat-friendly soles stepping on porcelain, echoing loudly in the hallway. Jason’s breath stops just as the newcomer stops outside of his door. Clothes shuffle when whoever it is takes a chain of jingling keys out of their pocket. The key inserts into the keyhole, making a metallic sound as it turns the lock.
The door clicks open. The newcomer stands right outside of the door with a tray of food in his hand.
Jason first sees the older boy’s—man’s?—face in the shadow, veiled under a black domino mask, and looks rather pale in the dark. Then he sees the armor and the black and orange uniform, and the letter R on the left side of his chest.

Jason’s limbs tighten as he takes on a combat stance. He bares his teeth, growling through them and trying to hide his anxiety, just about the same time the young mercenary walks into the room, closing in on him.
	...Renegade.
Jason is all but growling, but the man doesn’t seem to hear him. He walks towards the bedside table and settles the tray onto it. On it, there is a halved sandwich on a paper plate and two bottles of water.
Jason combs through his memories, trying to recall what he knows about the guy.
	(Renegade. Deathstroke aka. Slade Wilson’s apprentice. No one knows his actual identity. Just that he is young and a protege of his mentor’s, and a second-in-command of Defiance. In fact, the man in front of me has likely led the team more than Slade had.)
Why would anyone like him want Jason here? Jason senses danger, and perhaps something deeper.
When Renegade finally looks up at Jason, he does so with unreadable eyes, right before he turns to leave.
Jason knows if he wants answers he needs to speak fast.

“Why am I here?” →

“… Who are you?” →

	Why am I here?
Renegade stops and looks back.

He stays quiet for a second.
	You are here because I want you to be here, Robin.
	(His voice… It’s electrifying. He sounds like he is in his late teens or early twenties? Sounds like he is just done with puberty, but still rather young. It also sounds… familiar.)
	… What?
	Do you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?
	I was ambushed.
	By whom?
	Ravager, Terra, and… a boy I don’t know.
	Jericho is my friend. You don’t know about him because Deathstroke wants to keep his existence and his powers a secret.
	You mean…
	(Shit, this really isn’t a normal kidnapping, is it?)
	Do you remember at all what happened after that?
Jason tries to remember. He remembers looking into Jericho’s green eyes, his body twirling, sinking into a sea of nothingness.
	… No. Where am I?
	You are in Deathstroke’s base, and I made sure we stripped away any tracking device you had on you.
	(Shit. Of course.)
	Stay smart, kid. It’ll do you no good to escape.
These words anger Jason, so he opens up trying to refute. What comes out is a series of coughs.
Renegade then walks up to the nightstand and takes a bottle of water from the tray.
	Here.
He unscrews the cap and hands the bottle to Jason.
	Drink this.

Drink it→

“No!” →

Jason stares at the bottle warily. He briefly contemplates whether they drugged the water, but it seems unlikely. He can’t think of a way out if he is dehydrated, either. So Jason takes the bottle and drinks it really fast, gurgling down half of it in a matter of seconds.

	Easy there, kid.
Jason finishes for the time being and wipes his mouth.
	Why do you want to keep me here?
	Curiosity.
	… What?
	A way to keep me entertained.
	You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
	I’m not.
	Is that why you used your team to kidnap me?
	I didn’t. Deathstroke did.
	Why would he do that?

	That is for you to find out.
	I trust that you will finish your food and water like a good little boy.
	See you later, Little Wing.
Renegade turns around and leaves the room, locking the door behind him, leaving Jason gaping.

Jason stares at the bottle warily.
	I’m not fucking drinking that, it could be drugged.
	You will, if you want to stay alive.
	I’ll take my chances, thank you.
	Sighs.

	Just drink it, don’t make this harder for yourself.
Jason doesn’t move. He stares at his captor, glaring daggers.
	If you think I’ll…

But before he can finish his sentence, Renegade walks up. Jason barely has time to yelp before his captor grabs him by the chin and the mouth of the bottle forcibly pushed to his lips.

In his panic, Jason tries to fight and kick his legs out, shaking his head from side to side. He puckers his lips to stop the water from flowing. But he is powerless to stop it when Renegade forces his legs down onto the bed and pries his teeth open to pour the water inside.

Jason keeps struggling when the water flows, but he can’t help but swallow, taking in mouthful after mouthful.

The wrestling match finally ends when at least half of the bottle is gone and both parties are exhausted.

	I swear to God.
Renegade leans backwards, sighing exasperatedly as he screws the bottle cap back on.
	Slade never told me it’d be this difficult to tame the new kid.
	(What the fuck is he talking about?)
	Now, you stay good and finish your food, alright?
	Fuck you.
Renegade turns around and leaves the room, locking the door behind him.

“You’re Slade’s apprentice.” →

	… Who are you?
Renegade stops and looks back.

Who do you think I am?

“I don’t know.” →

“You’re Dick Grayson.” →

	I don’t know.
	Take a wild guess.
	(His voice… It’s electrifying. He sounds like he is in his late teens or early twenties? It’s… familiar. It makes me tingle all over.)
	(He looks familiar too… That face, those eyes… Have I seen him somewhere?)
	(No, it must be an illusion. It can’t be true, I have to be imagining things. He is Deathstroke’s apprentice and a bad guy, that’s all I need to know.)
	I don’t know.
	Tsk.
	Why are you keeping me here?
	You’re here, Robin, because I want you to be here.
	You are here because I don’t want you to leave. Not yet.
	What are you talking about?
	What are you planning?

	Do you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?
	I was ambushed.
	By whom?
	Ravager, Terra, and… a boy I don’t know.
	Jericho is my friend. You don’t know about him because Deathstroke wants to keep his existence and his powers a secret.
	...It was done to capture me? I was your target all along?
	Bingo.
	(It has to be because of Batman. What do they want from Bruce that they have to kidnap me?)
	Why me, then? Is this in Deathstroke’s contract or something?
	I wish.
	That’d be simpler. But no. It’s more personal than that.
	(What?)
	I wonder, too, why the old man just throws you at me and expects me to take responsibility.
	I have made sure any tracking device you had on you was stripped away.
	(Shit. Of course.)
	Stay smart, kid. It’ll do you no good to escape.
	Fuck you!
	Eat your food like a good little boy. I’ll check back on you later.
Renegade turns around and leaves the room, locking the door behind him.

	You’re Slade’s apprentice.
	No shit, genius.
	What do you want? Is this in Deathstroke’s contract or something?
	I wish.
	That’d be simpler. But no. It’s more personal than that.
	You must be hungry. Eat your food.

Renegade makes a gesture towards the tray with his chin.

	And drink more water while you are at it. It won’t do you any good if you’re dead.
	I won’t have Deathstroke’s gift for me biting the dust so soon. The entire team will laugh at me.
	(What?)
	Laughing at you for what?
	For the inability to discipline a little kid.
Jason bristles at these words. He bares his teeth and growls like a kitten.
	I’m not little.

	You look little to me. How old are you? Twelve?
Jason almost refutes that with “fifteen”, but he realizes just in time and decides not to take the bait.
	You don’t know anything.
	I know everything.
	How could you know everything?
	Because I do. I know all your moves, and what you’re thinking. I know you’re already thinking of an escape.
	...
	But just give up, Robin. I stripped away anything on you that has a tracking signal. There are no tools in here that can get you out, and you are disarmed. You’re not getting out of here.
	...
	You really have no idea who I am, do you?
	I-
	Eat your sandwich and drink your water. I’ll check back on you.
Renegade turns around and leaves the room, locking the door behind him.

	(There is an aura about him that is… familiar. Like I’ve seen him before. Not in person, but...)
	(In video recordings… surveillance cameras in the Bat Cave, party footage in Titans Tower...)
	You’re Dick Grayson.

	(Was I wrong?)
	What?
	Nothing.
	Who is this Dick Grayson?
	(Shit.)
	No one important.

	Oh, yeah?
	Yeah.
	Why am I here, anyway? What do you want from me?
	You’re here, Robin, because I want you to be here.
	(His voice… It’s electrifying. He sounds like he is in his late teens or early twenties? It’s… familiar. It gives me the chills. Was I really wrong the first time?)
	Do you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?
	I was ambushed.
	By whom?
	Ravager, Terra, and… a boy I don’t know.
	Jericho is my friend. You don’t know about him because Deathstroke wants to keep his existence and his powers a secret.
	… It was done to capture me?
	Yes.
	Deathstroke’s idea. The old man really threw me a hard one.
	(What is he talking about? Was I really wrong the first time?)
	I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Eat your food before then.
Renegade turns to leave, but he looks back one last time.
	See you later, Little Wing.

Help Joey with the turkey →

Chapter 3: Merry Xmas!

Summary:

Jason is awoken by the noise outside, and it's the day on Christmas Eve.
Christmas special chapter! Can be played outside of the plot.

Notes:

Please turn on "Show Creator Style" for this fic. You can still play it if it's off, but the layout won't look like what I intended it to look.

This chapter is mostly gen and team dynamic, but there's also some minor shipping material for all the major pairs, depending on what you pick.

Chapter Text

Jason is trying to sleep. It's morning and the room is bright, but he stayed up late last night reading his books. He wants to sleep in.

Except doing so is hard with the noise outside of his room.

Yelling… Laughing… Running around…

What are they doing out there? It's like the Defiance team members are still children. If he doesn't know better, Jason will never believe these are Deathstroke's deadly team of mercenaries.

He tries to keep the noise out by covering his ears. It doesn't work. He turns in his cot, trying to hide inside his blanket, but the noise comes through.

Eventually, Jason gives in.

Jason opens his eyes. It's morning, another day of captivity by Deathstroke's team of mercenaries.

The room is bright despite only having one tiny window close to the ceiling.

His wrists are still chained, and it takes some maneuvering to swing his feet off the side of the bed.

	(What on earth is going on? Why are they all yelling at each other and running in the hallway?)
	(Is… that snow* outside?)*

Jason gets off of the bed and walks to the window, dragging his chains behind him.

He looks up at the snowflakes flowing outside, unable to believe his eyes.

(Have I been imprisoned for this long? Fuck, how long has it been since they captured me? What day is it?)

But before Jason can think of anything, the door to his cell opens.

	Why are you just out of bed??
	(?)
	Why can’t I?
	It’s not like I can do anything or go outside. You’re holding me prisoner.
	Wait.
	Why are you dressed like that?
	I have no time to waste here.
	It’s Christmas Eve tonight, and we are all busy preparing for dinner.
	(!)
	What?
	(Was I really away from home for that long…?)

Dick takes out a bunch of keys and inserts one into Jason’s cuffs, unlocking one of his shackles, followed by the other.

	Wipe off that frown, come on.
	(What?)
	Come with me into the house.

Go →

Jason stands in the middle of the room gaping.

This is not how he imagined Defiance’s base of operation to look like.

He imagined something made of metals and concrete, with evil computer screens hanging on the walls.

He didn’t imagine this. Definitely didn’t imagine the sight of a cozy little Christmas-light-illuminated room with a fireplace, holiday music playing, sounds of cooking from the kitchen and… a Christmas tree.

The entire team is here, even Slade, who is standing near the bar. There are a couple unfinished mugs of hot cocoa sitting on the little coffee table before the TV. There’s also a cozy little sofa, upon which sits a guitar and a few sheets of handwritten music notes.

	Why did you let me out?
	I’m confident we can monitor you here.
	It’s Christmas Eve, try to have a little fun.
	Oh, wow, having fun spending the holiday with my kidnappers. Thanks.
	Better than spending the night alone in your cell, right?

Now, help me get the table ready.

Dick shows Jason where the paper plates and plastic forks are.

Jason hesitates, but he eventually walks over and takes the party gears out of their packaging.

When he comes back, Dick is trying to lie down a piece of tablecloth.

Why are you the only one laying out the table when everyone else is preparing for dinner?

	...
	(Shit… he looks angry. What did I even say?)
	If you are such a snob, go make yourself useful and help with something else, then.
	(눈_눈)
	Fine, I will!

Jason steps back and looks around. Where should he start?

Help Rose with the salad →

Help Tara with baking →

Help Slade with the alcohol →

Jason steps into the kitchen. It smells like herbs—rosemary, sage, and thyme—and uncooked butter. On the counter, a giant raw bird lays on top of a baking tray. Joey is working beside it, chopping up some herbs and mixing them with the butter.

Joey?

Joey hears Jason and looks back. He smiles, face brightening with joy.

	Hey.
	Did Dick ask you to come?
	No. I wanted to.
	Can I help?
	Of course.
	I’m just about to butter the turkey. You can help if you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.
	Sure.

Jason walks over to the sink and washes his hands with soap.

So… uh, why do you stick around?

Jason looks back to stare at Joey, who starts signing.

	What do you mean?
	Why do you hang around Slade?
	(I just don’t get it.)
	(Joey seems nice, he doesn’t seem to fit with these people.)
	Because they are my family. And Dick is my friend.
	Huh…

Jason finishes washing his hands. He dries them with a paper towel and walks over. Joey has the butter mixed nicely with the herbs in a plastic bowl, and the raw turkey is sitting on a baking tray. It looks huge.

	Ready?
	Yeah.
	Wait for a bit.
	Want some music?

“Yeah.” →

“I want to hear you play.” →

	Yeah.
	(Fuck it. If I can’t spend Christmas with Bruce and Alfred at home, at least I can get some Holiday joy from Christmas jingles, right?)
	Wait here.

Joey walks over to the sink to wash the grease off of his hands. After having done so, he leaves to retrieve a radio from somewhere in the living room. There are noises coming from there. Dick is walking around with plates and Rose is chopping something up with a knife.

When Joey walks back in, he has a radio in his hands. He places it on the counter and plugs it in.

After a bit of fine tuning, a jolly Christmas song comes up, and Jason starts humming.

	I used to love singing before my incident.
	Sing for me, if you want?
	Um...
	I’m not that great of a singer.
	I think you’re good.
	Really?
	(Fuck, why does my face feel warm?)
	Um… Okay. I’ll try.

Jingle Bells starts playing. Jason reluctantly sings along.

Joey smiles. He walks close to where Jason starts to pick up the butter and coating the turkey with it. Rolling up his sleeves, Joey joins him.

They work together, even dancing to the music. Joey has such a way with his moves, swinging back-and-forth on the balls of his feet while clicking his tongue.

	(This is so much better than cooped up in my cell.)
	(I wish it can be like this all the time.)
	Merry Christmas, JASON.

I want to hear you play.

	You want to hear me play?
	Yeah.
	I saw the guitar when I came in. There are also the music sheets you wrote beside it.
	How do you know it’s mine?
	Isn’t it?
	I know Dick’s handwriting doesn’t look that neat, and I know Tara and Rose don’t play.

	Smart kid.
	(Blushes.)
	Sure. I’ll play you something.

Joey walks out and picks up the guitar. Jason can hear noises from the living room. Slade is drinking and Tara is beating some cookie dough.

As soon as Joey enters again, he trots close to where Jason is, bringing a chair with him. Joey places the guitar on his lap and clamps the guitar pick between the knuckles of his index and middle fingers.

	I’ll start, okay?
	Okay.
	I’ll… um, I’ll start buttering the turkey.

Perfect.

Joey plays.

His fingers dance between the frets with flexibility as Jingle Bells flows out, the movements of his fingers are as intoxicating as the song itself.

Jason greases the turkey, and he involuntarily dances and hums to the tune. The music is beautiful, and his respect for the older boy grows.

Joey finishes one song and pauses.

	I didn’t know you’re good with cooking.
	I’m used to it.
	Merry Christmas, JASON.

	Look over.
	(?)
	Dick is coming.

Jason looks over, and sure enough, there’s Dick trotting over, looking rather unpleasant.

	When I said “Go help with something else”, I didn’t mean for you to run off.
	...
	What?
	You’re the one who told me to find work to do.
	I didn't mean here.
	What were you two doing?
	We were just listening to some music while buttering the turkey.
	Is that so?
	Yeah, I was just helping out.
	What? It didn't look like you needed help back there.
	How did you know I didn't need help?
	How hard is it to set up the table?
	You're my responsibility right now, I need to keep an eye on you.
	Oh, come on!
	It's not like I can escape.
	Come back to the table with me.

Help her use an actual knife →

Jason stares at the little station that Rose had set up. She’s got a cutting board placed on a table which she uses as a temporary counter. She has an enormous bowl to place the salad in, and a couple of lettuces and a few other vegetables laid across the table.

	(,,꒪꒫꒪,,)!
	What is that you’re using to cut the salad?!

Oh, hi, J.

Rose briefly talks to Jason before she returns to her work—cutting lettuce leaves with a- a sword.

Jason steps back. He stares at the blade, then steps back some more.

	Is that your sword?
	Yes.

Rose chops down with her sword and slices the stack of leaves in half. It looks equal parts inconvenient and terrifying.

	… That’s not how you chop vegetables.
	And you think you can do it better?
	Of course, cause that’s not how you chop vegetables!

Rose stops. She doesn’t place down her sword. Instead, she looks at Jason, eyebrow raised, and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.

	Well, genius, this is my job, and I’ve been doing it this way for years.
	Your way is dangerous and inefficient.
	You’re supposed to use a cutting knife.
	Oh, yeah, Boy Wonder?
	Did Dick send you here to mess with me? Because if it’s Dick, tell him he’s not the boss of me and his opinion is invalid.
	What does this have to do with Dick?
	Nothing. He is just bad with cooking.
	Oh.
	Well.
	No, I came here on my own.
	Pfft.
	Go play house somewhere else.
	And while you’re at it, be a sweetheart and get me some vodka from the bar, will you?
	(The bar? That’s where Slade* is. No, thank you.)*
	I’m not dealing with your dad.
	Does he even let you drink?
	(What am I saying? It’s Deathstroke. Of course* he lets his children drink.)*

If you won’t be helpful, then just leave.

←Back to the living room and decide what to do next

Jason walks to the kitchen and sees the knife rack. He picks up a salad knife and returns with it.

	What are you holding?
	What you’re supposed to use to cut salads.
	Let me try.

Jason nudges Rose out of the way, avoiding her sword, and arranges the lettuce on the board neatly. He slices the leaves with the knife, doing so rapidly.

Somehow, Rose has stopped talking. She watches.

	See, you’re supposed to arrange them so you can cut many slices without having to move them.
	It’s much more efficient, and if you do it right, you won’t have to cut yourself either.
	Pfft.
	What do mercenaries eat most of the time, anyway? I suppose you don’t cook a lot.
	Yeah, well.
	I still cook better than Dick.
	(Was Dick really that bad?)

Jason finishes the stack of lettuce and moves on to the baby cucumbers. He cuts one into slices, and stacks them neatly on top of the lettuce he just cut.

	Do you want to try?
	I’m good.
	You’re good. You should take over for me.
	Tsk.

Jason keeps cutting. He finishes the cucumbers and moves on to the onions.

	Stop.
	Why?
	Tara doesn’t like them.
	Here.
	I’ll take it from here.

She takes the knife from Jason’s hand and nudges him away gently with her shoulder.

Jason stands close and watches her. Rose starts cutting, and she seems clumsy at first. But she gets the hang of it.

Then someone calls them.

	Hey!
	Who let you use a knife?
	I was just helping her chop up vegetables!
	Rose.
	The kid is still a captive here. You can’t let him use a weapon.
	It’s not a weapon, genius. It’s a kitchen knife.
	It can be used as a weapon.
	Are you afraid all five of you won't be able to stop me if I suddenly try something?
	Baiting me won't do you any good, kid.
	You should be back in the kitchen helping me.
	You're the one who told me to go help around!
	I didn't mean it literally!
	(?)
	What?
	Nothing.
	I should be keeping an eye on you. You're my successor.
	Oh geez. Thank you very much.
	Rose doesn’t seem like she needs help. Come back to the table with me.

	What are you doing? Cookies are almost ready!
	(?)
	Help me get the tray out of the oven!
	...Yeah, Okay!

Tara opens the oven and looks, a breeze of hot air flows out. There are two trays inside, stacked on top of each other on the two oven racks. Christmas cookies are laid out on them.

Here…

Tara closes the oven and grabs the mittens to put on her hands, then she changes her mind and hands them to Jason.

	I’ll hold the door open while you grab them, alright?
	Sure.
	Grab them with both hands.

Jason does so and brings the tray out. They smell amazing. Half of the cookies are gingerbread men and half are chocolate chips with Christmas decorations on them. They are pretty, too, shaped like trees and snowflakes and reindeer heads.

Tara closes the oven door quickly and runs over to the table where she lays out a couple of pads for the heat. Jason carefully places the tray onto them. The smell immediately runs through the room, and Jason’s mouth waters.

	Do you want some?
	(Can* I?)*
	You can have some. Just don’t take all of them.

Jason looks at the tray and takes a snowflake-shaped cookie from it. He blows on it, then takes a big bite before it’s not nearly cooled down enough.

	(Hot!)
	(But it’s… it’s delicious.)
	I didn’t know you can bake.
	You didn’t know a lot of things.
	Yo! Rose! Joey! Take some cookies before they cool down!

Jason can see in the distance Rose sets down her tools and lettuce, and Joey washing his hand off of the turkey grease. The siblings approach, they all look giddy for the sweet treats.

	I used to bake for the Titans, you know.
	You did?
	Garfield used to love them too. I bet they don’t tell you that little detail, huh?
	...
	No. No, they didn’t.

Joey finally makes it over. He looks way too happy for the cookies, almost rubbing his hands together. He stares at the tray for a few seconds and selects a few, all in different decorations, and stuffs two in his mouth.

Thank you!

With his hands, Joey clumsily signs a thank you to Tara, then winks at Jason before he leaves.

Then rose runs over too, picking up a few, holding a couple in each hand and one in her mouth.

	Thanks, babe!
	Take some for your dad too, will you?

Rose comes back and picks a few more off of the tray.

Can do!

Rose waves before running off. Tara sighs, then picks a gingerbread man off of the tray and starts eating herself.

	Take some more.
	Oh and bring some to Dick for me.
	I don’t know.
	I don’t know which ones he likes.
	He likes everything. Just take some of each.
	Why isn’t Dick helping you, anyway?
	Well… Dick is banned from the kitchen.
	What? Why?
	Last time we trusted him to cook, he mixed up sugar and baking soda.
	(That’s some juicy information...)
	Well, take the cookies to him, alright?
	Fine.

	(Wow…)
	(They really have an entire bar in this place.)
	(I mean, I know Bruce can totally afford one if he wants, but he just seems to store all his wine in the cellar. It’s kinda amazing seeing all these bottles here.)

	What are you doing here, kid?
	Um…
	While you’re at it.

Slade pours some Bourbon into a shot glass. He hands it over. Should Jason take it?

Yes. →

Don’t. →

Jason stares at the glass warily, then stares up at Slade again. The mercenary is waiting with an eyebrow cocked. It’s a challenge, and Jason doesn’t want to back down.

	Fine.
	Give me that.

Snatching the glass from Slade’s hand, Jason drinks it up.

It tastes slightly sweet, but he can feel the alcohol in his nostrils and throat. The drink goes straight to his head.

One can’t get drunk with just one shot, can they?

	Rose was just like you.
	What?
	Always want to prove herself.
	Kids, I tell you.
	…
	I’m not a kid. I’m fifteen.
	I know. How’s the drink? Do you want another?
	…
	No thanks.
	I’m supposed to be here helping you with… whatever it is you’re doing.
	If that’s your plan, you can help plenty by drinking more.
	(Is he serious?)
	I thought you were… I don’t know. Mixing drinks? What are you doing here?
	I’ve been drinking everything before you interrupted me.
	God.
	Go back to Richard, Robin. Who let you run free around here, anyway?
	…
	Speaking of him.

	No.
	I don’t know if it’s safe.
	It’s just whiskey, kid.
	But it could be poisoned.
	Tsk.
	Batman trained you to be such a prick.
	Fine, if you’re sure.

Slade takes the shot glass and pours it down the sink. Jason watches. Now he’ll never know if it’s poisoned or not.

	You know you just missed out, kid. If it’s up to Richard, he’ll never let you drink.
	Why?
	I mean, I’m just a captive here, why does he care what I do?
	Because you’re his responsibility.
	When I sent you to him I was hoping you can be a distraction to him, and to Rose and Joey.
	I didn’t sign up to babysit.
	(What the fuck?)
	You kidnapped me!
	Yes, and I expected you to behave when I did.
	Who knew Batman’s new bird is a yapping nag?

Slade downs another drink, then pours himself some more.

	…
	You sure you don’t want some?
	Oh.
	Look. My apprentice is here.

	Why are you here? You shouldn’t be near alcohol.
	Who cares? I’ve seen plenty of alcohol before Batman found me.
	You are too young. Slade, he’s only fifteen.
	Didn’t stop you when you were fifteen.
	…
	(What was Dick like when he was fifteen?)
	That’s not the point.
	Yeah, well, are you even twenty-one yet?
	We’re old enough, kid.
	Well… I know Rose isn’t.
	Rose isn’t allowed to drink either.
	No, she just drinks when you’re not looking.
	…
	(trying hard not to laugh)
	In either case, you need to get back to the table now.
	Have fun not drinking.

Help Joey with the turkey →

Help Rose with the salad →

Help Tara with baking →

Help Slade with the alcohol →

Dinner is ready →

The table is set, and Rose moves a couple of chairs out of the way to make way for the turkey.

Joey walks over with the giant bird on a tray. It smells great, and the stuffing and the gravy each gives off their own unique aroma. Jason’s mouth waters as he watches the tray settle on the table, and Joey walks close again with the carving tools in his hands.

Come over here, Little Wing.

Dick motions Jason to sit beside him. Joey and Rose will be sitting across from them. Slade sits at the head of the table with Tara beside him.

Slade is opening up a new bottle of wine. Rose brings over the bread and the bowl of salad, and they all sit around the table.

	What does everyone want to drink?
	I’ll just drink this.

Slade starts pouring the wine into his own glass.

	Same.
	Same.
	Same.
	Not you, Rose.
	I-
	Not you either.
	Can you pass the coke?
	Sure thing, nerd.
	Tsk.
	I may not be able to drink wine, but you’re still banned from the kitchen.

	Because he’ll make baking-soda-flavored cakes.
	How many times do I have to tell you—it was an accident!
	That’s what he says.
	Slade!
	Let’s go for a cheer, alright?

Joey picks up his cup, followed by Slade and Rose. Dick follows reluctantly, and he pushes Jason’s cup into his hand and holds it up for him.

	Merry Christmas, everyone.
	Merry Christmas.
	Merry Christmas.
	Merry Christmas.
	Merry Christmas.
	…
	Merry Christmas.

Christmas event done.