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It was a gift from Jonathan Kent. It shouldn’t be surprising, Damian mused, as he took in the certain… item that was laid out in front of him on the small table they kept in the kitchen of the manor. Jonathan Kent was two years younger than him and acted even younger besides.
After their latest meeting, Jon had presented Damian with a bizarre looking object made of cheap plastic and Damian had accepted regeally, not willing to let the farm boy know he had no idea what it was.
Jon rarely had anything with him that would qualify for the Batcave’s level of surveillance, but the thought had crossed Damian’s mind. It was still fairly early, definitely before patrol time, and Damian was almost certain his father or Drake would be in the Cave, typing away at whatever ridiculous problem had caught their attention next. He did not dare bring the mystery item down, because while both his father and Drake were difficult to pull away from their computers, Damian was one of the things that always seemed to get their attention.
Damian pushed the bitterness of that away as he stared harder at Jon’s gift, wondering if he could unravel its secrets with just his gaze. He reached for it again, turning it over in his grasp and wondering if he should cut it open to get it to reveal itself when he heard the heavy stomps of booted feet in the manor’s hallways.
In a spectacular failure of years of training, instead of hiding the mystery item, Damian simply froze in place with it in his hands as Jason Todd breezed into the kitchen.
Of course it was Todd. Damian had been hoping against hope it would be Cain, who wouldn’t have asked about the gift, even though she would never walk that loud. Why the street rat insisted on stomping around like that was truly beyond Damian; having trained with the Batman and then with the League of Assassins, Damian knew Todd was more than capable of moving silently. In fact, Todd was almost too good at it. As loathe as he was to admit it, when it was required, Todd was perhaps the stealiest and quietest of them all, save Cain.
But apparently Todd hadn’t deemed it required right now , as he walked over to the refrigerator, making his steps what Damian was sure was the loudest they could possibly be. Todd hadn’t even glanced in Damian’s direction, but as he reached deep in to the refridgerator to pull out a container of something or other, he said, “why the fuck do you have a kazoo, gremlin?”
On an instinct Damian disliked immensely, he dropped the… the kazoo on the table once again. A name, he thought. At least I have a name.
“It is none of your business, Todd,” Damian said, tilting his chin up. “Why have you sullied us with your presence today?”
Todd’s attention was on the oven when he spoke again. “Alf and I had lunch yesterday. Alfie took the leftovers hostage so I’d come over and eat the rest of them.”
Damian snorted, loudly. “So you’ve allowed Pennyworth to play you successfully? You’d truly give up your crusade just for some old food?”
Todd was against coming to the manor and the Cave below if he could help it. Yet, these days, Damian was sure he saw him more often than not, usually scheming with Drake or having tense conversations with Grayson and Father. Part of Damian wished things would go back to the way they were, when Todd refused to come to the manor at all and would only enter the Cave when he was bleeding out. Yet, despite the tension, Damian could see the relief in Grayson’s and Father’s eyes whenever Todd stepped foot in their shared living quarters. Damian didn’t understand it.
Todd apparently set the oven to whatever he deemed acceptable, and stepped to the side, turning to face Damian and leaning on the nearest counter. “Of fucking course I would,” he said, and he looked at Damian like he was the idiot. “Alf and I collabed on this dish, demon brat. Restaurants would be falling all over themselves to get to this. I’m not going to let you idiots eat it, since you don’t have the slightest bit of appreciation for good food.”
That , Damian knew was an exaggeration. “Cain enjoys her meals,” Damian said, surly.
Todd nodded knowingly. “Yes, that she does,” he said, sounding fond. “Alfred delivered warm leftovers to her yesterday after we ate.”
Damian rolled his eyes, which turned out to be a mistake. His gaze caught on the kazoo and he stared at it for a second too long, bringing Todd’s attention back to it.
“What is that?” Todd asked. “I know Dick came up with these stupid exploding toys when he was Robin, but I didn’t think that was your style.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “It is a child’s toy?” he asked. He had assumed that, naturally, but he didn’t see what could possibly be entertaining about it. Not that he saw the appeal of many toys to begin with.
Todd blinked twice. “You don’t know what the damn thing is, do you?” There was a slight smile on his face, but it wasn’t sharp and sharky like Drake’s often was. “Where’d you get it?”
Damian opened his mouth, not totally sure of his answer. But apparently he hesitated a beat too long, because it was Grayson’s voice that broke the silence.
“Where’d he get what?”
Grayson walked into the room in that slightly hurried way he had of doing everything. He glanced around the kitchen, eyes catching briefly on Damian and the kazoo, before locking firmly on Todd and the preheating oven. Damian could almost see Grayson’s priorities lock into place.
Now Grayson was all but bounding over to Todd with huge puppy dogs eyes as he begged, “little wing! Little wing, please let me have some, little wing!” He looked even more like a begging puppy dog than Titus did.
Todd shoved him away and rolled his eyes in disgust. “You snooze, you lose, loser,” he said. “Fuck off Dickface, you aren’t getting a bite of this masterpiece.”
Grayson just pouted harder and Todd looked off to the side, a grimace on his face. “Not a chance, Big Bird,” he said. “Not a chance.”
“Well fine!” Grayson said, sounding as offended as Damian had ever heard him. “You can’t have any of my cereal then.”
Grayson turned away from Todd’s absolutely incredulous face and looked at Damian. “He’s so mean, Little D.”
Damian huffed and turned back to stare at his kazoo . This was absolutely a mistake, he realized as he heard Grayson bounce over and then the kazoo was in his hands.
“Where’d you get this?” Grayson asked, turning it over in his fingers.
Damian resisted the urge to snatch it back. “A gift from Jonathan Kent,” he asked.
Grayson grinned down at him and ruffled his hair. “And you accepted? I’m proud of you, Little D.”
Todd had been shuffling quietly around the kitchen, sliding his refrigerated plate into the oven. He snorted. “Oh, so Gremlin the Great is now accepting presents from lowly peasants now, is he?”
“Yours would be rejected,” Damian said and finally snatched back the kazoo. He weighed his next words carefully and glanced back at the toy in his hands before looking directly into Grayon’s eyes, doing his absolute damndest to pretend Todd had disappeared off the face of the Earth. “What does it do?”
Grayson stared at him for just a second before his face lit up in a huge smile and he shot a look at Todd over Damian’s head. Damian felt his heart sink just a bit.
“Oh, it makes music,” Grayson said, trying to squash down his smile. Damian remained suspicious. “Come on, Damian, just give it a try. Blow in that end there. Jon was so nice to give it to you, after all.”
That… that was true. Grayson and Father had been saying for a long time that gifts were given as a sign of friendship here, and not a symbol of alliance or fealty as they had been given in Nada Parbat. It had been a struggle for Damian to come around to their way of thinking, but he had felt a kernel of gratitude when Jonathan presented him with the small gift. It would dishonor that if he did not at least play his musical gift.
Damian brought the kazoo to his lips and realized too late Todd had his phone out, pointed directly at him.
The noise that came out of the kazoo was absolutely absurd, not at all unlike the sound of a duck’s quack. Damian dropped the toy immediately and felt his face burn red. Grayson was doubled over laughing and Todd was laughing too.
“Goddamn Batbrat,” Todd said through his laughter, as he typed on his phone. “Replacement is gonna get a kick out of this.”
The idea of Drake seeing it made Damian’s face turn even redder but before he could jump on Todd and smash his cellular device into tiny bits, he felt Grayson’s hand land on his shoulder.
The man’s face was still stretched wide in a grin, but he managed to sound somewhat serious when he spoke. “Easy, Dami,” he said. “The only reason we’re laughing is because you’re so serious all the time. We like seeing you have some fun, and I bet Jon gave you that kazoo thinking you’d play with it.”
That was… that didn’t totally make sense to Damian. He glared up at Grayson, trying to make sense of this, to see if he was lying. All Grayson did was stare back at him, his face open and honest. Damian felt something in him soften.
Damian tilted his head back and puffed out his chest, determined to get back some of his pride. “Fine,” he said, sharply, and pointed a finger at Todd. “You may send that video to the… to everyone Father considers family, as well as Jonathan Kent. But none of you may show it to any of your ridiculous friends.”
Damian half expected Todd to argue, but all he did was bob his head. “Fine,” he said, leaning over to check the oven.
Damian glared at him for a second longer, before turning back to Grayson. “And both of you must spar with me so I can make you pay for your trickery.”
Grayson beamed down at him. “Sure thing, kiddo. Let’s leave mean Jaybird all to his admittedly delicious food.”
Todd tossed something at Grayson’s head, who ducked. Before he could grab Damian’s arm and haul him down to the Cave, Todd yelling at them all the way, Damian dropped and scooped up the kazoo. Even if he didn’t play it again, he might as well keep it. It was a gift, after all.