The Cold Cost of Living

Damian wasn't sure what was wrong with him. It was summer. It was the middle of a Gotham summer and even if it wasn't as warm as it had been in the Middle East, it was hot. Hot and humid and yet, Damian was freezing.

He had been ever since his powers had gone away. At first, he had thought he was just comparatively colder. With powers, his body temperature had been a little warm. Nothing outside of normal, but warm. But the chill had continued, progressed, until he could be standing outside in full sun in 85 weather and shiver. Blankets were worthless. They only worked if he was sitting close to the fireplace or a heater.

And it wasn't a normal kind of freezing, where the top layer of skin loses heat. Damian felt the cold in his bones, down to his marrow. His heart pumped cold liquid through his arteries. His reflexes, previously lightning fast, slowed down to – he shuddered at the thought – Drake standards.

Of course, he refused to tell anyone about this. Grayson would insist on warming him through contact. Damian shuddered at the thought. Pennyworth would assume he was sick and ban him from patrol. But he wasn't sick. Besides the chill, he had no symptoms. No soreness, no itchy eyes, no coughing, sneezing, runny or stuffed nose, nothing. Just cold.

And there was no telling Father. He could handle the cold. He could. There was no need to bother Father with such petty concerns.

Drake was not an option. Of course. Not just because he was Drake, though that was a compelling reason in and of itself. Drake was in another part of the country. As was Todd-

The front door slammed open, and shut. Damian, meditating on the sofa, trying and failing to force his body temperature up, cracked one eyelid to see if he needed to dispose of the intruder. It was just Todd, and he seemed... not angry. Very well. Slowly, Damian let his eyelid fall.

The moment before his vision went dark, a small shudder racked Todd's body. Inaudible to anyone who hadn't had Damian's training, a "brr," escaped from his lips. Curious, Damian looked at his "brother" again. He was swathed in his usual layers. Thick jeans, leather jacket, motorcycle gloves. But it was sweltering outside. The hottest day of the year, according to the news. Was Todd...?

Immediately, Damian dismissed his preconceived notions about Todd. He had assumed that Todd insisted on dressing in the heaviest clothing possible to maintain a "look". Indeed, it is what Todd himself said any time he was questioned on it. Similarly, he had very rarely seen Todd in Gotham in the winter. Every time Grayson invited him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, Todd said he was busy, or in Ecuador hunting down a smuggling ring. The few times he did come to Gotham in the coldest season of the year, he never stayed long.

Hadn't he once heard Grayson remark that Todd loved snow? Why then would he avoid it?

Unless he was like Damian.

"Hey brat! What's up?" If his meditation hadn't already been interrupted by the thoughts coursing through his head, Damian would be very upset to be disturbed. As it was, perhaps he could get some information out of the erstwhile member of the family.

With a sigh, he uncurled himself and looked Todd dead in the eye. "Todd. If you must know, I was meditating."

The fool laughed. "No you weren't. You were thinking. I know the difference." He leaned on the door frame, a disgusting grin on his face. "What were you thinking about?"

Damian sneered, not particularly because he wanted to, but because it was expected of him. And it wouldn't do for Todd's suspicions to be raised. "I was thinking that you were dressed rather warmly today. Did no one tell you it was hot outside?"

Another laugh, a short bark which raised Damian's hackles. "I can't let a little weather ruin my look, now can I? Besides, my natural coolness keeps the heat off." Dramatically, he pulled a set of shades from his pocket and dropped them on his nose. "Stay frosty kid!" With a little wave, he left.

After a moment, Damian stood up. He watched as Todd pulled the sunglasses off of his face, placed them back in his pocket with a smile, then followed him to the kitchen.

He couldn't go in, not without Todd seeing him. So he placed himself in a shadowy corner and waited for the man to come out. What Todd said... there was something off about it. Rehearsed maybe. As if he were telling just enough of the truth to be convincing. Father had taught him about those kinds of lies, said that they were the most difficult to distinguish from truth. Which made Damian all the more convinced that yes, Todd was like he was. But how? Todd had no powers! He had never had any, not even after he'd... gotten...

Oh.

Was it possible?

No, the methods of resurrection were different. Or were they? Mother had said she had no idea what had resurrected Todd. Was it possible another Chaos Shard had done the job? But no, there was only one Chaos Shard, and it had been in League hands for years before Todd's revival. But if it wasn't the method of resurrection that was the cause, what else could it be?

The door to the kitchen opened. "Thanks Alfie! You're the best." And out walked Todd, carrying a steaming mug of – a quick sniff to confirm – hot chocolate. With cinnamon. Hot chocolate. In this weather.

Todd had clearly been living with this affliction for quite some time. Perhaps he had discovered some tricks to make it better. Damian decided to find out every single one.

But first. "Pennyworth, Grayson requires your attention. I have not seen him eat a single vegetable in over a week and I fear he will get scurvy." It wasn't quite a lie. While Grayson normally ate balanced meals, he had been busy with a case for the past week and hadn't had time for more than coffee and cereal.

While Pennyworth busied himself pulling carrot sticks out of the fridge and cutting up oranges, cheese, sausage, and other food not requiring cooking, Damian placed himself at the table, busying himself with his phone. The moment the butler left, Damian leapt up, heading for the oven.

Excellent. Pennyworth had made more than one serving of hot chocolate. Damian turned on the stove to reheat it while he got himself a mug. The biggest he could find.

The hot chocolate burned his tongue, but Jason didn't care. He was too busy reveling in the feeling of being warm again. It didn't matter that this was the hottest day the city had gotten in over a year. Gotham was too darn cold. Still, he'd endure for a while. He had a case he needed to talk to Dick about. Maybe in a month, he'd head down to Vegas. Or Hawaii. Or back to Kori's island. One of those.

Dick, once he'd gotten to the cave (and brrr it was cold down here. Ugh) looked more than a little worse for wear. Probably because of the same case that was keeping Jason up at night. "Hey Dick. Just wanted to know if you had any new information for me."

He nodded absentmindedly, throwing a few files onto a USB drive, then wrinkling his nose when the beautiful smell of Jason's wonderfully hot hot chocolate hit his nose. "Really Jay? It's boiling outside."

"Can't help it. I have more than a passing addiction to this stuff. It's worth every taste bud I burn off." It really was. He took another gulp, relishing the feel of the hot chocolate moving down to his stomach, warming his insides like nothing else. He was just about to add another layer to the not-lie when-

"Master Dick!" Alfred appeared like a whirlwind, silver tray in one hand and the other propped menacingly on his hip. "Master Damian has just informed me that you haven't been eating your meals!"

Dick winced. "Sorry Alfred. I got busy."

With a huff, the tray landed directly in front of Dick. Which also happened to be directly on top of the laptop he was using. The cover came off the tray, brandishing the finger foods Alfred had prepared. Carrot sticks and orange slices and crackers and cheese and sandwiches. Every food group was represented on the tray, and none of it required more than one hand to eat. "Sir, I must insist on you eating this. All of this. You may continue working, but you must also have something in your mouth at all times. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Alfred." Demurely, Dick grabbed a cracker, piled a sausage slice and piece of cheese on it and stuck it in his mouth.

Alfred turned to Jason. "Do I need to insist on the same for you Master Jason?"

He took another sip of his cocoa and raised a hand innocently. "Of course not Alfred. I've been eating my meals like a good boy, don't worry." And he had been. While he didn't have time to make himself a full supper every night, he had made a large batch of stew a few days ago and had been working his way through that.

But Alfred was eyeing him, so he grabbed the USB from its port the moment the files were done transferring. "Well, gotta go do something useful with this!" He drained his mug and set it down on the desk. "Thanks for the hot chocolate Alfie! Delicious as always."

He was halfway home when he noticed. Someone was following him. The motorcycle was too far away for him to see the rider, but ten to one it was a Bat. At this speed, it really couldn't be anyone else. More specifically, the baby bat. Bruce was out of town on business, Tim was who knows where, and Dick was under watch until he finished his tray. Jason smirked. Time to see how serious Damian was about following him.

He drove benignly to a corner – benignly being at twice the speed limit – then made a quick left just as the lights changed.

The rest of the trip passed similarly. He doubled back, took odd turns, found the one roundabout in the city and drove in there for a few minutes. And yet, the kid was still behind him when he got back to his apartment.

So, Jason did what any good big brother would do. He made as if he was going upstairs, then snuck out the back and climbed the building with the best view of his apartment. Taking out his phone, he turned on the light in his kitchen remotely. Then, he waited.

Sure enough, Damian hopped over the edge of the building and settled in to watch his window. Sighing inwardly, Jason stood behind Damian, all of his assassin training bent towards erasing his presence. And he studied his youngest "brother". Noted the way Damian shivered in the warm night air.

Damn. He'd been hoping his chill had been because of his method of resurrection. Not that he knew what that was. Still, he'd been hoping that maybe someday, he'd be able to find out what it was and that maybe, just maybe, knowing what it was would tell him how to get rid of the cold.

His only other theory... Well if he were a poet, he'd call it the chill of death. And for some reason, he didn't think that would go away. Not until his grave reclaimed him.

But now his kid brother needed him. So he walked up a few steps, dropping into a crouch next to Damian. It was to his credit that the kid didn't jump. "Cold kid?"

"Tt." Another shiver wracked Damian's shoulders. "Don't be ridiculous Todd. Of course not. I've trained in climates much colder than this."

"Uh huh." He replied knowingly. Jason had too. And even now, he could definitely cope with the cold. He could fight as good as he ever could. But when he was at home, trying to rest, having a chunk of ice in his chest was unbearable. "Well, you might as well come inside. I borrowed some books from Alfred that I forgot to return." He wasn't quite done those books, but he'd read them before.

"What do I look like? Your delivery boy?" But Damian stood up and followed Jason to the fire escape.

He regarded the kid thoughtfully. "Hmm. I don't know. A little hat and a messenger bag. You'd be perfect for the part!" And he laughed as he dived off the building to avoid the knife aimed at his throat.

Immediately after entering Todd's apartment, Damian felt... not warm, but warmer. His eyes flickered to the thermostat. It was how high? 100 was far too high for any normal person, wasn't it? But he felt...

This used to be how spring felt. Cool, but warm enough to be comfortable. And most importantly, not cold. So he stood there for a minute, just reveling in the feeling of it. Todd moved on, to the kitchen from the sound of it.

Letting out a contented breath, he opened his eyes. Time to complete his mission. What kind of methods did Todd use besides the ridiculous thermostat temperatures? There was a pile of blankets on the sofa, but that couldn't be it. Damian already knew those didn't work. So how...?

A cord snaking away from the pile gave him his answer. Electric blanket.

Todd, curse his observational skills, noticed his attention. Of course. "I've also got this microwavable hot pack. When Dick comes over to watch movies and I have to turn the thermostat down, I curl in with both of those."

That was a good idea. Not that Damian would ever admit to it. "That must be horribly embarrassing."

Todd nodded, handing over a steaming hot mug of tea. "Yeah. Dick tends to try and take pictures. It's gotten to the point that I just confiscate his phone when he gets here."

Damian grunted in reply. "You might want to check for iris cams next time. He's tried those on me before." He took a controlled sip of his tea. Just like the hot chocolate, it warmed him from the inside out.

"Oh, I do." Todd crossed over to the sofa, grabbing a few extra blankets from a chest beside it. "He was supposed to come over today for a monster movie marathon, but I don't think that's going to happen. Not with Alfred placing him under house arrest."

Something which Damian refused to feel guilty for. Grayson did no one any favours if he passed out from malnutrition on patrol. More than likely, it would be Damian saving him from some imbecile's henchmen.

But why was Todd setting up a second blanket nest? "Want to stay over for the night? Watching movies is much better with someone else. Even if it's you."

The last was said in a teasing tone, or a tone that Grayson said was teasing, so Damian brushed it off. "Well, I suppose I have nothing better to do. Subjecting myself to a few hours of your company is better than going back to the manor to watch Grayson pout about being banned from patrol until he's rested." Which is definitely what would happen. Once Pennyworth found out how little sleep he had gotten in the past week, the Nightwing suit would disappear. As would every spare Grayson had, regardless of the hiding place.

Grayson got bored when he was banned from patrol. Bored Grayson was not someone Damian wanted to be around.

So Damian got himself settled in the blanket nest and pulled the covers over him. Todd popped the first movie into the player, then went to the kitchen when the microwave dinged. A gloriously hot bag was shoved into Damian's blankets. Between that, the electric blankets, and the tea still clutched between Damian's fingers, he was warm.

For the first time in months, he was warm. He was warm.

He fell asleep halfway through the third monster movie. When he woke up, it was noon and Todd was still soundly asleep. So he grabbed his boots from the front door, slipped them on, grabbed the books for Pennyworth and left.

The noon sun beat down on his back as he went home at speeds far too outrageous to be legal. But he knew how to evade cops, a necessary skill considering his age and lack of a driver's license.

It wasn't until he got home and into the safety of his room that he noticed a note in his pocket. "Hey Brat," it read, "I don't know what it is that we have, but I don't think it goes away. If you want to talk theories, let me know. A few tips: 1) Electric blankets, hot packs and hot drinks are your best friends. And get a space heater. Alfred won't be happy if you raise the temperature of the whole house. 2) Layers. Dress in them. And use warm fabrics. Wool, fleece. Get rid of cotton and linen unless you want to put on six shirts under your jacket. 3) Wear your winter Robin uniform in the summer. Next time I'm over, I'll give you a modified winter uniform to use. 4) You were right about the meditation. Do that under a few blankets and you'll be warm for two hours.

"And some warnings: A) Winter. With a lot of practice, you'll be able to move as well as you used to. But don't get in over your head until then. Your muscles will lock up at the worst times, a shiver will give away your position, anything could happen. B) Be careful with too much heat. You can still get heat stroke, and you can still get burned. I have a really neat scar on my knee from where I got too close to a volcano. If it starts hurting, step back.

"That's about it. It's up to you if you want to tell B and the others, but leave me out of it. Who knows though. If it's you, they might find a cure. Whatever you choose, just know. You're allowed to visit me any time. It's nice and toasty on Kori's island year long, and Roy designed this shower soap that literally locks in heat for a few hours. I'll get him to whip up a batch for you.

"All the best,

Jason."

Damian snorted. He hadn't asked for Todd's advice! This was completely unwarranted.

But, he kept the note. Memorized its contents. Bought himself a small microwave he could keep under his bed so he could reheat his hot pack when he needed to, and a space heater as well. His customary seat at the table shifted from Father's right to the one closest to the kitchen. There were electric blankets in every room designed for casual sitting. The study, the library, the parlour, the living room. He even managed to hide one in Father and Grayson's rooms.

Titus was a wonderful source of heat. He tended to drape himself on top of Damian wherever he was, whether curled in blankets on the couch or in bed. And after nightmares, no one was warmer than Grayson.

So Damian was coping. Sometimes, he was even warm. And if it wasn't perfect, well, he supposed that was simply the price of life.

AN: Hello all! Have another Jason-Damian bonding fic thing. At least it was kind of fluffy. So that's nice.

This one was based on oh-mother-of-darkness's headcanons on Tumblr by the way. I can't help it, she has so many good ones.

Read and enjoy~!