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Jason knows his relationship with food is different from most other people’s. It’s not exactly like he tries to hide, it’s too inconvenient to try and hide. The stockpiling, the deep need to know where the next meal is coming from, the occasional day where it feels like he doesn’t stop eating because he’s constantly snacking. Not to mention how well he’s able to handle hunger when in a situation in which he has to go hungry, a smile on his face war in his head, and pangs in his stomach.
He knows it’s not exactly healthy all the time, but at the moment it’s one of his least prevalent problems.
Jason has stories about food that make even Dick’s face screw up in disgust, and he shares them with a laugh and a comment about how this is a funny story. Stuff from his childhood that he knows is at the least kinda fucked up if not extremely fucked up. Like how he hated ketchup for years after when he was a kid, he ate an entire bowl of it as an attempt at a meal or times in which he would make the worst throw-together meals anyone has ever heard of.
His siblings each have their own, interesting to say the least, relationships with food. Shared bits and pieces that are like each other. Like Dick and Damian’s accidental tendency to starve themselves when they feel like they fucked up, anyone who’s spent time with the League of Assassins has their days in which they’re convinced that if they don’t see the food being made that it’s poison, Steph, and Duke both can’t stand it when people try to take from their plate, hell Tim also stockpiles and has shared with him some of his most heinous throw together meals.
All of this leads to where Jason is right now, awake at the quietest hour of the day after not having slept in the past 48 hours. Glancing at his phone to see that it’s 4:45 am and deciding to give up on attempting to sleep.
He rolls out of bed, literally almost smacking his forehead against the side table that is just a chair, and stretches out his arms feeling his fingertips lightly graze the old-as-shit popcorn ceiling in the safehouse he’s been staying in for the past month or two. He’s lost count, which probably means he should move soon but he’s feeling lethargic at the moment sue him.
Stumbling out into the main room of the apartment he’s not particularly surprised to see that the lights are on and that also he’s not the only person in the space. If the possibility hadn’t been nagging him in the back of his head, he probably would have been a lot more alarmed, maybe even enough to shoot at the person currently half-awake on the couch. It’s April though, and anyone who knows this family knows April is a bit of a sensitive time, it’s expected that everyone will attempt to find comfort where they can.
He is a little surprised by who it is laying on the couch though, out of costume completely but with an Escrima stick still in hand is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, who is supposed to be in space right now if Jason is remembering correctly. Clearly not apparently because he’s not in space and is in fact on Jason’s couch. Detective skills really pulling their weight in this situation.
This does nothing to deter Jason of course, he has decided that it’s time for insomnia dinner, so he ignores the mess of limbs that is his acrobatic brother. (Seriously how does he rest like that? His legs and arms are practically interchangeable right now.)
The main room of the apartment is split neatly in half, with half of the room being the living space and the other half being the kitchen complete with a breakfast bar. Convenient for hosting multiple people in the space at once, which is definitely not the reason Jason hasn’t burnt this safehouse yet nope not at all.
Surveying the kitchen, he pretty much has anything and everything he’d need to do anything he likes, and some of the things his siblings like. He is not going to fool himself into believing Dick is going to be the only person that shows up tonight.
He starts by pulling out a cutting board and some vegetables. Normal patrol should have ended a few hours ago so anyone who was out should be finishing up any post-patrol stuff around this time.
So, he slices some carrots and places them in a small arrangement on a plate with some naan bread pieces and some vegan hummus that he buys from the lady down the street in a small bowl in the middle. He leaves this plate at the close end of the breakfast bar counter by the wall alongside a glass of cranberry juice. Damian always preferred more bitter juices and if Dick is here then the little demon is soon to follow.
With the easiest one out of the way, he fills the electric kettle and waits for the water to heat up as he prepares some mugs. He has no idea who all is coming but he knows that at least for now that Dick is going to want some tea and so he places the bag of green tea he has in the bottom of his Gotham Knights merchandise mug.
Jason has some chicken he decides needs to get used up, so he thinks for him and whoever else is willing to eat it he’ll make some throw-together chicken pasta and starts cutting onions and mincing some garlic.
The exact moment the kettle goes off is also the exact moment that there is a knock at the door. Dick startles so hard that he’s practically a foot in the air while also preparing to hit something. It’s not completely unwarranted, Jason doesn’t know who the hell is coming through the door when he has a perfectly good window right there. The two lock eyes as Jason removes the kettle from the heat and pours the water into Dick’s mug and with a nod of permission from him Dick goes to peek through the peephole. Surprisingly once he’s got a good look at whoever it is behind the door he leans back with a smile and undoes the deadbolt keeping the door locked.
Duke walks through the doorway with a tired look in his eyes, a brace on his wrist, and body language screaming that he’s glad to see them both. Jason knows he’ll eat the pasta just fine, so he leaves them be as they whisper greetings and share a hug that tells Jason that he was the first to know that Dick was in fact either back or never went to space at all.
He gets through the onion and garlic with no tears and a muttered complaint of how weak the onion is and waits to see if he needs to cut more vegetables before he cuts the chicken. For the time being he grabs the homemade hot chocolate mix he gets routinely from Alfred and adds four spoonfuls, Duke has always liked his stronger than everyone else, to one of the other mugs he grabbed this one just a plain orange with no design.
Duke is sat on the couch with the remote to the TV logging into his Hulu account with an eye-roll that Jason can feel more than see when he realizes that Jason isn’t logged into any streaming services. Dick is approaching the bar with a small smile that isn’t as fake as it could be, dipping his finger tentatively into his tea to see if it’s the right temperature yet.
The silence that had fallen over the apartment is broken by Duke who has turned on some crime television show and is now leaning against the arm of the couch so he can see the TV and the kitchen at the same time.
“What’re you making Jay?”
Jason puts a pot of water on the stove to start boiling. “For you and me at least, throw together chicken pasta. It’s insomnia dinner.”
Duke smiles blindingly from the couch as Dick hands him the mug of hot chocolate, “Ok, thank you.”
“No problem Narrows.”
Dick has come back to the bar to lean against the counter from the living room side, not yet taking a sip from the mug and Jason give him a very pointed look as he opens his mouth.
Dick of course decides to say whatever he wants anyways. anyways. “Shouldn’t it be insomnia breakfast?”
Jason groans under his breath, this is an extremely long-standing argument.
“Just for that, you’re getting eggs.”
Dick smiles like this was the plan all along, and maybe it was because once he confided that Jason was the only one who seemed to season eggs the way his mother did back in the circus.
It does seem to be a missing your heritage day for Dick, Jason will add just a bit more spice than normal then.
Jason pulls out a pan and some cooking oil as he gets started on the eggs. The space goes back to peaceful silence except for the show that he can safely now identify as Bones.
As he’s pulling out the carton of eggs, he sees from the corner of his eye as Damian finds his way through the window. Locking eyes immediately with Dick. The passionate whispered conversation they have as Dick guides him to his snack on the counter only just makes it to Jason’s ears. But it seems to be about Dick not informing the kid he was back immediately so he buts out and finishes cracking the eggs into the pan and pulling spices off the shelf. Eventually, Dick seems to placate the kid because he shuts up and starts eating his carrots and drinking his juice with a pleased hum.
The eggs are easy and fast and before he knows it, he sets the plate in front of his older brother with a smirk.
“Your insomnia breakfast, now can I go back to the insomnia dinner?” The sarcasm practically drips from his mouth like drool.
Dick already has shoved a forkful of eggs with enough cayenne pepper to make Tim throw up in his mouth and nods his head with a mischievous edge added to his grin now.
As Jason sets down the plate Damian catches his eye and holds it, waiting for his attention to shift to him. When it does, he looks serious.
“I have reason to believe that Brown, Cain, and Drake should be here as well shortly. Oracle was still working last time I checked and would likely appreciate any leftovers.”
Jason shakes his head a little as he ruffles the kid's hair, ignoring the cat-like hiss he gets in response to his actions, and goes back to cutting his chicken.
All his siblings minus Barbie are gonna be invading his place tonight, why isn’t he surprised?
Maybe because they’re all little shits who seem to have a 6th sense for when he’s cooking.
After he finishes cutting up the chicken, he takes the pan he made the eggs in off the stove and places it in the sink to wash up later, pulling out another pan to throw the chicken, onion, and garlic into. Then he opens the freezer and grabs the open bag of pizza rolls, throwing a bunch onto the plate and some shredded cheese on top and then into the microwave for 2 minutes.
Despite outside opinion saying Tim Drake-Wayne was raised with a silver spoon he actually prefers garbage foods, just with a little extra pizazz. He won’t eat the pasta if it’s got onions in it and as long as the kid eats something Jason doesn’t really care that he won’t eat the pasta.
Speaking of the pasta the water has started boiling so he goes to grab the noodles. Seeing that he has both straight spaghetti noodles and bowtie he gets Duke’s attention and holds up both boxes in silent question. Duke points at the bowties and Jason is inclined to agree. Emptying the box into the water as the microwave goes off. He double-checks that all the rolls feel warm and then places another paper plate under the first one for stability and leaves it on the other end of the bar with another cup of hot chocolate.
He checks the chicken and onions and decides they need a bit more time as Duke strikes up a conversation with Damian about patrol, subtly poking at him as they sit on the couch to make sure he isn’t hurt anywhere. Dick looks at them fondly as they do this, glancing back every once in a while, to double-check on Jason and glancing at the window for their soon-to-be new arrivals. Jason refills his tea as he grabs peanut butter, bread, and jelly. Placing them with a butter knife and another plate in front of Dick.
Dick doesn’t even question it, knowing that while Cass will also eat the pasta, her preferred thing for nights/days like this has always been a good peanut butter sandwich or ramen. Jason is unfortunately out of ramen, so the sandwich will hopefully have to work for tonight.
Jason is draining the water from the pasta when the subdued cheers announce the arrival of the last three people. Turning to see them fall into the exact places everyone knew they would. Steph seemingly already getting the memo about the pasta and just landing into place on the armchair and straight into the conversation Duke and Damian were having. Cass gratefully taking the sandwiches that Dick made and signing to him in-between bites about patrol and him signing back about space. Tim practically falls into the barstool by his food and looks mystified by its presence like he wasn’t expecting Jason to make anything especially for him.
He probably wasn’t and that just makes Jason sad, so he ruffles the kid's hair to get the look off his face. It works like a charm as Tim now instead looks affronted by the attack to his post-cowl curls. That look melts away into gratitude as he shoves the first cheese-covered pizza roll in his mouth.
“Thanks, Jay.” He whispers, Jason just smiles as he turns away.
“You’re welcome, Timbo.”
The chicken is just about to where he wants it, so he pulls a jar of store-bought tomato sauce out of the cupboard and empties it into the pan, mixing it all together and pulling bowls and forks out as well. This works best when you let everyone serve themselves and so he’ll let them. Just to be safe he pulls the grated parmesan out as well.
Finally, the sauce seems to be done so he dumps what’s all in the pan into the pot with the noodles and mixes it all up. With a slight whistle, anyone who was waiting for the pasta gets summoned into the kitchen and everyone starts serving themselves up.
Jason ends up in the middle of the couch, with Damian to his left and Duke to his right. Cass and Steph are somehow fitting into the same armchair at the same time and managing not to elbow each other while they eat. Dick and Tim both sit on the floor, arguing about some science that is apparently wrong in the crime TV show that is much tamer than what they see daily.
It is sometime around 5:00 am in an only kinda shitty apartment on the edge of Crime Alley, and Jason Todd and his most of his family made of people who do not share his last name eat an insomnia dinner together despite each having their own complicated feelings about it all. About food, about sleeping, about everything.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.