Family Isn't Just Blood

Late Nite Bites

Damians POV:

"Harper! We got company! That's code for you better have your clothes on." Todd calls as he unlocks the door and swings it open.

"Come sit on the counter, I'll grab the med kit." He tosses his jacket onto the coat rack and heads through the unkempt living area, disappearing somewhere down the hall. I take a quick scan of the apartment. It's just as disappointing as the last time I was here. The couch is piled with a few disheveled blankets and the television is playing some late night x files show. I move left, towards the open concept kitchen. Gripping the counter top with my good hand, I swing myself into the chair. Thankfully, there's no visible signs of grime on either surface.

Now that I'm sitting I can take a better look at my arm. I flake off some dried blood from my skin and further examine the damage. The scrapes are patchy, varying in severity thanks to my weak reflexes.

I replay the scene in my head again. The masked stands in front of me, holding the ticking clock. I rev my R-Cycle and speed off. Everything moves in blurs after that, a semi truck, the pavement, dark eyes behind a mark, my arm flying in front of me. Then a cloud of colour, and then nothing but ringing ears.

Before I can finish critiquing my disasterous performance, I hear the wretched sound of vomiting. I wrinkle my nose at the grotesque sound.

"Good news and bad news, kiddo." Jason says, tossing a medical bottle in one hand.

"That's a cliche way to say you don't have any supplies, Todd." I scoff. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I'm gonna have to pick up some antibiotics for your arm, whatever alien junk got in there isn't going to be cured by rubbing alcohol."

"Very insightful, Todd. I would have never guessed that human medicine wouldn't work against off world tech. Next will you tell me about how water is wet?" He gives a short laugh, unaffected by my comments.

"Alright alright smart guy." He heads behind me, into the kitchen area and opens the freezer. With my good hand, I catch the ice pack he tosses at me.

"That's a pathetic waste of medical supplies, Todd." I comment, while he pours the bottle of rubbing alcohol down the drain. "I'm sure you'll need that eventually. Don't get so disappointed in your lack of quality medical supplies."

"This isn't about you, dimwit. I can't have any of this in the house right now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Instead of answering, he chucks the empty bottle into a recycling bin and picks up his keys.

"Don't get any stupid ideas about leaving, your dad will be a lot less chill about this than I am. Plus.. he might be kinda miffed if I knew I was part of the reason why you got alien juice in your road burn." He scratches the back of his neck, scrunching up his face slightly. "So just stay here until I get back, yeah? You can watch whatever channel we get on that old piece of junk." He tosses his keys a few times and pulls his jacket back on.

"Be back soon, kid."

"Tt." The door shuts behind him just as another disgusting sound of gagging rings out from somewhere in the apartment. Before I can get up to investigate, I hear a door swing open, followed by shuffling footsteps.

I scan from his damp looking hair, down to his bare feet. He looks utterly disheveled. Half naked, glistening in sweat, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

 "Hey kid. How's it hangin'?" He asks, voice quiet and rough.

I frown at him before responding. "Less than optimal." He has a lazy grin over his face.

"Yeah, fellin' that, buddy. Whats got you down? Jay said somethin' about an injury?"

"Tt. The injury is nothing. It was a witless mistake." He gazes at my arm while walking into the kitchen.

"Those things happen, man. Arm looks pretty sick though. Chicks dig battle scars." He scans the contents of the fridge before selecting a soda can. "Guys dig em' too. If that's your thing." He says absently, now scanning the freezer.

"Tt." He holds out a long, blue, plastic covered stick to me.

"It's a freezie." He says, taking an orange one for himself. "Like ice cream, but more fun." I take it from him, sceptically. He leaves his drink and "freezie" on the coffee table in front of the tv.

"Got a favourite show, kid? Everything on tv right now is just reruns." He digs through the pile of blankets on the couch and pulls out a worn out grey hoodie. Taking a seat on the couch after wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.

"I don't have time for television. It is a waste of time."

"That's why I like it." He gives a half laugh, pressing some buttons on the remote. I move off the stool, still pressing the ice pack Todd gave me into my arm. It does little to help. Little, but not nothing.

I stand at the edge of the couch, on the side furthest from Harper. I look him over again. His skin is a lighter shade than usual, and despite appearing cold there is still sweat coating his forehead.

"Are you contagious?" I ask, noting the way his mouth turns up when he looks over at me.

"Nah. Not contagious. You think germaphobe Jason would let me walk free through the house if I was sick?"

"Tt." I sit down across from him, observing the crude way he eats the "freezie". The only thing that could make this more barbaric is if he had to use his hands to eat it.

"When I trained with Ollie as a kid I used to watch his signature moves." He says, breaking the silence. "I'd study him in the field and then replicate his moves in training, but I'd to show him up by putting my own twist on them." He takes a break from talking to hitch the blankets higher over his shoulders.

"My favourite move of his was when he was tryin' not to get shot he'd dive to the ground while shooting an arrow behind him. It was the coolest thing to me as a kid. So one time we're getting shot at, and instead of diving for cover, like he told me too, I tried his trick. 'Cept this time I tried diving on my stomach and shooting an arrow in front of me.

I ended up banging my jaw against the ground so hard I knocked out a tooth. Not to mention I broke my bow, tore my costume, and shot a civilian in the leg. I never heard the end of that. Beat myself up about it for weeks, but ya know what helped me get over it?" He pauses, looking at me with a foolish grin.

"No. Obviously I don't know what happened."

"I told Dick what happened, and he helped me practice that damn trick until I got it. He also told me that instead of beating myself up for a dumb mistake I should just move on and focus my energy into something else."

"That's a very irrelevant story." I say, tonight's events replaying in my head.

"Yeah, maybe." He says. Then he throws up. 

[A/N: Excited to see Damian again? I sure am! 

How was the length of this page? I know lots of you read on phones/ipods so I want to make my stories as user-friendly as possible.

Would a shorter page be better for your reading habits?]