This chapter is dedicated to villainousharley :)
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"You never told her?"
"No! Why would I brag about being a former member of one of the most dangerous gangs in the world?"
Jason snapped his fingers in front of Kyle's face. "Well, first of all, it's not one of the most dangerous gangs in the world, it's the most dangerous gang in the world." Kyle sighed and shook his head as he took a bite of his bacon burger. "Then, you could have confessed her your sins."
"My sins? Dude, what the hell happened to you? You converted into a priest? Should I call you Father Todd?"
"Psht, shut up."
"I can already see the headlines: 'Local Father is actually the leader of Gotham's most feared gang.' That's pretty catchy."
"Don't you ever shut up?"
"No," Kyle laughed while he arrogantly raised his eyebrows. Jason threw one of his fries right into the young man's face and shook his head.
Both men had stopped in a resting area after they had ordered some take-out food from a close-by fast food. It had already been two hours since they had started to drive away from New York and they still had two hours left before they'd reach Gotham so they decided to take a break to eat something (actually, Jason had decided to stop and eat).
Jason was leaning against his red Ducati Panigale, eating the last of his fries whereas Kyle was sitting on a picnic table, his legs hanging, still munching on his burger and occasionally giving Nala some fries. He had parked the grey Mustang just behind him and he could still hear the slight ticking sound the powerful engine was producing after their drive at nearly full speed. The roads were almost empty that night so Jason had decided to drive faster than authorized (and also because it was much more amusing) so Kyle had followed his friend's speed. The both of them loved driving, but what they loved more than everything else was the thunderous sound of their engines.
"It looks pretty great with the black stripes," Jason declared as he sipped on his soda and pointed at the muscle car.
"Thanks. I modified it a lot."
"You did it yourself?"
"Yeah, I learned a bit."
Jason nodded, impressed. He then jammed his hands through his leather jacket, looking for his pack of cigarettes. When he finally found his precious white packet, he opened it and brought one of the cigarette to his lips before he lit it up and took a long drag of it. "Do you want one?" he asked Kyle as he hold it out for him.
"No thanks, I stopped smoking."
"You did?" Jason's eyebrow rose suspiciously.
"Yep."
Jason nodded and took another drag out of the cigarette. "I have to warn you about some things before we arrive in Gotham. Some things changed while you were gone."
"What do you mean?"
"With the gang."
Kyle's blue eyes narrowed slightly and his head tilted while he straightened up.
"Among most things, I'm making sure they have a regular hand-to-hand combat training. I noticed during the war that most of their gestures weren't precise and it was a real problem once on the field."
"So, all of them are learning martial arts?"
"Yes, exactly like I did with you."
"So... that makes them an army?"
Jason nodded quietly, letting a puff of smoke escape from his lips in a thin grey cloud. "That was the idea." A grin spread all across the man's lips. "I hope your training is on point though."
"Don't worry, I've been practicing."
"Good. I can't wait for you to get your ass kicked."
"Shut up," Kyle spat, "I could kick your ass right here, right now."
"Sure." Jason laughed while he put out his cigarette, "I'm sure you can," he said sarcastically.
"Hey, I've been trained by a man who was trained by Batman. You better be careful," the young man replied, smirking.
"Okay, I'm legit scared now."
"You better be."
"Alright," Jason clasped his hands together while he headed to his motorcycle and grabbed his helmet. "Time to go."
Kyle jumped from the table he had been sitting on and called for Nala to follow him. She obeyed happily and jumped on the passenger's seat of the Mustang. Jason's Ducati roared back to life, quickly followed by the grey and black muscle car's powerful engine.
"Last arrived pays the drink," Jason smiled evilly just before he accelerated, the Ducati's tires squealing against the concrete. Kyle laughed, closed his door and immediately followed his friend.
***
"Come on, Dick. I know you can do better than this," Tim smirked, arrogantly lifting his chin in his brother's direction. Dick rose back on his feet and groaned loudly. "You look like an old man."
"It's because I don't want to hurt you, little brother."
"Sure thing, big brother."
Without hesitation, Dick lunged forward and tried to smash Tim against the boxing ring's edge. In a swift movement, the young raven-haired man dodged but Dick, having anticipated his brother's reaction, turned on his heels and quickly spun his foot around. Tim somersaulted above Dick's foot, a broad smirk running on his lips. He landed perfectly on his feet and smacked his bo staff on Dick's chest.
"I win," the teenager declared proudly, panting slightly.
Dick tsked lowly and pushed the tip of the bo staff away from him. He saw Tim looking away during a second and immediately jumped on his back. Both brothers collided roughly on the floor and Dick immediately started to ruffle Tim's hair. The young man protested loudly, squirming desperately to eject Dick out of his back. "You're a bad looser!" he screamed.
Dick laughed and rolled on his back when he stopped torturing his little brother. "You look as if an army of wild squirrels had attacked you."
The young man groaned loudly, raking his hand through his hair to try to discipline it again. "Whatever," he mumbled.
"Master Dick, Master Drake, I wished to inform you that dinner will be ready in thirty minute. I'd be really pleased if you could go take a shower before," Alfred's stylish accent suddenly intervened from the top of the rock stairs leading to the cave.
"I'm not staying for dinner, Alf'. I have to go back to Blüdhaven tonight."
"Oh, that's unfortunate. I had prepared your favorite dish..."
Dick's eyes opened widely. One second later, an evil smirk spread on his lips. "Uh... okay, maybe I'll stay after all." Tim simply shook his head in amusement.
Alfred clasped his hands together. "Excellent. Go take a shower then."
"Yes, Alf'," both men answered evenly before they stood up. Dick smirked and ruffled Tim's hair once more before he ran away right after.
"Oh my god, Dick! You're unbelievable!"
"That's part of my charm!"
Once clean, both brothers joined Bruce, Damian and Alfred downstairs. Damian was lying on one of the large couch, focused on the book he was devouring. Bruce was sitting in his arm chair in the other side of the room, just next to the large extinguished fireplace surrounded by the large bookshelves. He was wearing a serious expression while he was reading the news of the day on his tablet. Just in front of him, Alfred was simply enjoying fulfilling the final squares of his crosswords.
"Here you are," the old butler lifted his head from his crosswords when he noticed Dick and Tim walking in the living room. "So, now that everyone is here, I will serve dinner."
"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said with what resembled a smile.
All the boys did as they were told and headed to the dinning room. Damian reluctantly closed his book. He wanted to read more of the story he was reading but it will have to wait for a bit later.
Once they were all sat, Alfred brought a large crystal bowl containing mashed potatoes with truffle oil as well as a plate with grilled spare ribs. Bruce and Dick were given a glass of wine while Tim and Damian got a glass of water. Alfred sat at the head of the table opposite from Bruce.
Dick served everyone quietly, listening to the classic music that was airing out of Alfred's old radio. Once he was done, he sat back on his chair and looked at Alfred. "You knew I'd stay for the mashed potatoes and truffle oil."
"Of course, Master Dick."
"Alfred, you are vicious."
"I just happen to know each of your culinary weaknesses."
Dick laughed before he took a forkful of mashed potatoes and appreciated the strong taste of the truffle spreading in his mouth. Damian shook his head, exasperated.
"Alright boys," Bruce suddenly said, looking at his sons. "Now that school is over, what are you planning to do during the holidays?"
"I'll prepare for college," Tim smiled, grabbing a piece of bread and handing another to Alfred. "And I'll also probably go to Wayne Enterprises with you more than once."
"That's an excellent idea, Timothy. What about you Damian?"
"My days will be used to train and read while I'll be patrolling with you at night."
"Lots of fun in perspective," Dick said sarcastically.
"No one has rung you, Grayson."
"Damian!" Bruce called his son to order firmly. Damian let out a tsk and plunged his fork in the spare ribs and cut it with his silver knife strongly. Tim sighed lowly while he took a sip of water. "Anyway," Bruce continued. "What about you, Dick?"
"I don't know yet, actually. I'll probably take my brothers on holiday if they can manage to behave," he smiled broadly.
"Holidays in Blüdhaven? No, thank you," Damian replied flatly. "I would rather stay with Todd and his stupid gang."
"Fine, do whatever you want," Dick snapped back. "I'm not forcing you anyway."
"Excellent."
Dick shook his head and let out an angry sigh. From the other side of the table, Alfred, who had remained silent, cleared his throat. "Speaking of Master Jason, does anyone know where he is?"
"He told me he had to go to New York for a day or two," Tim said.
"His gang has been very active lately. Crime rate have decreased a lot in Gotham since last year. Almost as much as in Blüdhaven," Dick declare before he took a sip of wine.
"I have to admit that his activities are really efficient for the time being," Bruce said. "Criminals are afraid of Red Hood's gang."
"He posted men everywhere in the city, even in the suburbs. Few gangs dare to even try and go on his territory."
"Indeed."
"So you're admitting that he's doing a great job?" Dick smirked and Bruce only sighed, causing the young man to laugh softly.
"His job is efficient, but his methods are wrong," Bruce replied coldly.
"I know, Bruce..."
A silence fell in the dinning room until Alfred cleared his throat once again and asked for Damian to follow him, the young boy being the only on who was done eating. The latter sighed slightly but did as he was told. Both the butler and the young boy came back with a tray on which were lying many small pastries fresh out of the oven, their mouthwatering smell spreading in the whole room.
Thanks for reading :D (and sorry for the wait x.x)