Chapter Text
It was a bad idea. Jason knew it was a bad idea, and yet, the more he thought about it, the stronger the desire to act on the bad idea grew. It all built up until he found himself stepping in through the kitchen window after midnight. Or, at least this used to be the kitchen. It looked more like a dining room now.
He used to know this place so well he could have walked through blindfolded, but that was years ago. Now he was using night vision to navigate through what used to be his own house.
He stepped around the table, careful for any new traps or alarms that might have been added. With how paranoid his da—Bruce was, it was certain that there were at least a half dozen more added since Jason had been here last. There was also an extra doorway: an easier access to the new kitchen. Alfred must have finally gotten tired of having to go the long way around through the house.
The kitchen looked mostly the same, save for the new placement. It hurt a little to know that they’d remodeled the manor while he had been gone - just one more thing about his past life that he could never return to – but he wasn’t here to stay, so it didn’t matter. It DIDN'T matter. There was only one objective tonight, and regardless of how much change everything else went through, a tight feeling in his chest grew with the hope that maybe it would still be there.
His gloved hand found the handle of the fridge. This was such a stupid idea.
He opened it anyway.
Preparations for several dishes sat stacked in neat containers at the back, the front devoted to larger glass containers of leftovers. The full one at the top captured his interest in particular.
Jason grabbed it and slipped out the way he came, heart beating unnecessarily hard. Good grief, he was the infamous Red Hood now, what was he afraid of?
And yet he clutched his prize close and sped all the way back to his safehouse.
He double checked the perimeter,
triple checked the security,
took a few deep breaths to calm himself,
and opened the container.
Alfred rarely made this dish: only once a year, if old habits still held true. It was a unique yet simple dish that no one else in the family had actually liked while Jason had been there – a rare occurrence considering this was Alfred’s cooking. It made no sense that he would make it again, but here it was. Right on time.
Of all the dumb things Jason had done over the past year, this one definitely ranked close to the top, and yet, for some reason, he couldn’t let it go. Not today. Not tonight.
He heated up his prize and took a bite, the green glow of his eyes immediately lighting up the otherwise dark room, though for once, the emotion it signified wasn’t rage. Tears fought to fall as the nostalgia set in - memories of good times, back when he had everything a little street kid could want.
A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Nineteen. He never thought he would celebrate like this. Never thought he’d celebrate again, and yet, here he was.
“Happy birthday, Jason,” he whispered to himself.