A/N: Ok, the idea is originally from Concolor44 (.net/s/6812129/1/). His (I think they're a guy…) [insert from Concolor44: Yes, I possess a Y-chromosome.] idea is that there is a place called Benny's Breakfast House, which will serve anyone (hero or villain, or whatever) no matter what. They have pretty much everything and anything, from food Star will eat to normal pancakes. And many, many people go through the doors.

Check out the story if you like Teen Titans, period. It's awesome.

Prompt: Breakfast

Jericho usually ate some yak cheese and bread for breakfast, on the top of his (relatively warm) mountain, before playing his guitar and thinking for the rest of the day. Of course, Jericho also lived in Tibet, where yaks were the only animals within five thousand miles, and you'd be lucky if anyone could understand American Sign Language.

Still, the idea of eating something relatively normal was… Abstract. So it was no surprise when Jericho, who had recently come to Jump City to spend some time in civilization, wanted to eat a good meal. Wait, scratch that. A good, relatively normal meal.

"Hey, Jericho. Cyborg and Beast Boy are out on patrol, but they'll be back around lunch. I'm going to be working in my room, and Raven is meditating, so please try not to bother either of us. I'm not sure where Starfire is, actually. She kind of just left this morning…" Robin shrugged. "You can handle yourself, and Jump is a lot safer than it used to be… But be careful. There's still a few big villains out there." Robin added before walking off, heading to his room.

Jericho sighed, though he hadn't really expected anything different. Of course the Titans would be busy doing something, and besides, who would want to go eat with a mute? He couldn't carry on a conversation, he couldn't express much emotion, and his silence usually unnerved people. That didn't make it much better, though.

He quickly grabbed his guitar before he left, on a whim. He didn't think he'd need it, since he doubted he would get attacked, but maybe he'd go to the park and play later. It always made him smile, seeing children laugh as he played a tune, seeing them sitting around him in a circle, mesmerized by the music.

With his guitar in hand, Jericho walked out the doors of Titan Tower.

And was quickly, and repeatedly, annoyed. After leaving the third restaurant, Jericho was close to giving up. He knew he should have brought something to write on! He should have known that the chances of meeting another person who knew sign language, even the basics, were minimal. And those chances were the same as the chances of his being able to get seated.

It was more difficult then he thought, since he was usually restricted to wildly waving his arms to get a person's attention, and when he did he was unable to tell them his name. This led to mass confusion, anger because the waitress/waiter thought he was playing a joke, and leaving with a mounting frustration.

Jericho kicked a soda can quickly as he passed it, the metal object flying across the street and landing in an alley. Jericho scowled; a rare expression on his usually peaceful face. His guitar was slung across his back now, since he didn't want to hold it for the whole day. He also didn't want to hit anyone with it on accident.

Maybe I should just give up, he thought. He could get something to eat at Titans Tower anyway, and while his cooking was about as good as Raven's (the witch had been dragged into making a meal for Jericho by Starfire), it was at least food. I'll just pick up the can and throw it away, Jericho thought, and then I'll go back. While some people thought it was strange, his habit of picking up litter, he thought it was perfectly normal. Seeing the wonder of nature in his home, Jericho hated the thought of even one piece of trash lying around.

It was while he was picking up the can that he heard it. A kind of grinding noise, like boxes being pushed over each other. Curious, Jericho threw the can into a nearby dumpster and looked around the alley, trying to find where the noise was coming from. A pile of boxes, stacked just like a pillow fort, lay on the far side of the dumpster.

Tempted to leave, since Jericho was certain it was just some kind of homeless person who would rather not be bothered, Jericho decided he should at least look. It could be something like an abandoned animal, which would need help. Or maybe a man with a cold who just needed a warm place to stay for a night.

Jericho knelt down in front of the stacked boxes, peering into the darkness. Then he jumped back, startled by what he had seen.

Two red eyes, like a vampire's, stared out at him.

Frightened, Jericho was about to bolt out of the alley when reality calmed him. Vampires weren't real, and besides, it was during the day. There were plenty of people right outside the alley, who would hear if he was attacked, though he could probably deal with any problems. And then the choice was taken away from him, when the person inside the fort of boxes stood up.

The boxes tumbled down, and the first thing Jericho noticed was that the person seemed to be wearing some kind of cloak or jacket, which trailed on the ground. It was probably once very nice, but now it was ragged, with several cuts in the fabric. It might have once been attached to something, but now was tied around the person's neck like a child would tie on a cap. The second thing was that the person appeared to have gray-white skin.

The figure wasn't much taller than Jericho, and they might have actually been the same height. Still, the bright red eyes flashed through Jericho's mind and he found himself frozen, though he didn't have any rational fear. The figure turned around, and Jericho found himself recognizing the face.

Kyd Wykkyd? Jericho signed in the air, hands trembling. What are you doing here? Jericho asked. He wasn't usually one for conversation, especially not with villains, but seeing the teenage villain… Kyd Wykkyd had fallen. It was the only way to put it in Jericho's mind, and was not far from the truth.

Kyd Wykkyd looked Jericho in the eyes, and a whole wave of sorrow and pain rushed over Jericho. Whatever had happened to Wykkyd, it was not pretty.

I know…. I know a place we could go. To talk. I'll explain there…. Or you can arrest me now. I'm tired of running. I just… Wykkyd looked like he was going to cry, and even though it broke a million and one hero rules, Jericho found himself nodding.

Seconds later Jericho was walking down a city street, Kyd Wykkyd at his side.

Jericho wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't a normal looking restaurant with an old, fat man as the cook, and a blond waitress that wasn't as old as the cook, but was older then Jericho. Of course, that wasn't really what Jericho was concentrating on when he and Wykkyd sat down at one of the booths.

"Need a menu, hons?" The waitress said, seemingly teleporting to the side of the booth the moment the two teens sat down. Jericho started to shake his head but stopped, and nodded. Kyd shook his head, and Jericho gave him a questioning look.

Tell you later. Wykkyd signed. Jericho nodded as a menu was placed in front of him, the waitress moving to serve others in the breakfast crowd. Which, as Jericho quickly scanned the building, was one of the strangest he had ever seen.

Starfire sat in a booth alone, eating what had to be the most bizarre food Jericho had to have ever seen. Then Jericho looked around and saw Flash ordering a cup of extremely large coffee (which was the size of a large soda, and which Jericho had no doubt would let Flash go even faster than usual), with Mad Mod eating a scone and reading a British newspaper.

Whatever this place was, Jericho had a feeling it was strange. How did you find this place? Jericho asked Kyd. Kyd wouldn't meet Jericho's eyes as he replied, Jinx… She showed it to us, once. And nothing more. Jericho took the villain's silence as a chance to look at him, and really see what was wrong.

Wykkyd's clothes were the first things Jericho looked at. While Jericho knew Kyd Wykkyd as a neat and clean villain who had soft and shiny black and purple clothes, this Kyd had smears of mud all over him. His clothes were torn in more places than Jericho bothered to count, and the cape was, as Jericho had noticed earlier, tied on instead of attached to Kyd Wykkyd's shirt. The purple was darker, and Wykkyd's gloves were worn down.

Kyd Wykkyd looked different physically too. While Jericho had thought Wykkyd's eyes were still bright red, they were actually a murky red, and had a dull glaze to them. His skin, usually a pasty white, was now a murky gray kind of color. Jericho could only attribute it all to living on the streets, which begged the big question.

What were you doing on the streets? Jericho asked. The mute wasn't sure if Kyd had seen him, since Kyd was still looking at the table, but Kyd slowly replied: We've been falling apart… Billy, Mammoth, and Gizmo all left after Jinx disappeared. See-More tried to stick around, but left after them.

Jericho didn't believe it. He knew the Hive Five had lost Jinx, of course, since the spell caster had been converted by Kid Flash, but didn't have any idea what had happened to the Hive Five. They still broke into places, but when Jericho thought about it, usually it was just Mammoth and Gizmo, and none of the others. Apparently those two were still together, but the rest … They had only been seen solo, and the Titans had assumed they were working together …

Why? Jericho asked. Kyd Wykkyd looked up, and Jericho winced. The once bright eyes, burning with some kind of intelligence, looked like the eyes of a beaten and crushed puppy.

Jinx kept us together. She left, and we fell apart. Wykkyd replied simply. Jericho didn't know what to say. What could he say? It was like hearing the Titans East had broken up. Sure, Jericho wasn't very close to either group, but he knew (or thought he knew) they were as thick as thieves … Literally, in some cases.

You've been living alone? On the streets? Jericho asked. Kyd nodded, and Jericho felt like the wind had been knocked out of his chest. The idea of anyone he knew, even a villain, living on the cold streets all alone, was shocking. He knew that people lived like that; of course, he just never thought it would touch his small world. Obviously he had been wrong.

Why haven't you tried to get help? Jericho asked, even though he already knew the answer.

I'm a thief. You guys would get the news I turned up in a shelter and demand answers out of me, and then send me to jail. But now … Wykkyd didn't sign anything more, and that was good because Jericho was too busy thinking.

Kyd Wykkyd was a thief. A villain. The bad guy. The person heroes threw in jail and threw away the key. Ok, maybe not that much. But still, Kyd Wykkyd was bad. He had stolen things, and attacked civilians, and attacked the Titans. He had been a member of the Hive Five for crying out loud! They were one of the most infamous villain groups in Jericho's generation, if not the most infamous. Well, mostly because they were terrible, but that was beside the point. But did that make it all right for Kyd to be living on the streets?

Part of Jericho wanted to say yes. Kyd Wykkyd must have known what he might be dealing with, being a thief. He was getting what he deserved! But Jericho couldn't accept that. It was one of his weaknesses; he couldn't see someone needing help and just let them be.

"Know whatcha want, hon?" The waitress suddenly asked, appearing out of nowhere. The question caught Jericho off guard, his gaze slipping from Kyd Wykkyd to the woman. Jericho hesitated, unsure if the woman would understand him even if he did order. He slipped a look at Kyd, and saw the villain was resting his head on the cool surface of the table.

His eyes were closed, and he looked like he had fallen asleep. He looked peaceful, and for the first time, Jericho saw a person who just needed help.

I'll take a glass of orange juice, two scrambled eggs, and bacon on the side. Jericho signed, hoping she understood. He wasn't sure he could repeat it. The waitress just nodded, a slim piece of hair falling out of her hair bun.

"Gotcha, hon." She said, drifting off to tell the cook Jericho's order. Kyd opened his eyes, looking more weary then before. He now looked like a beaten puppy that hadn't had sleep in the past twenty-four hours. Thinking about it, maybe Kyd hadn't been sleeping.

Suddenly, Kyd Wykkyd sat up and climbed out of the booth. He wobbled as he stood, a thin arm shooting out and grabbing the booth's side for balance. In a flash Jericho stood, helping Kyd stand. Jericho gave Kyd a soft push towards the booth, but it caused the villain to stumble and sit right back down.

What was that for? Kyd asked, trying to glare at Jericho. His glare lacked any venom, and Jericho had felt more threatened by yak herders. Jericho didn't sign anything, but motioned for the waitress to come over, catching her attention with a frantic wave.

"Yes, hon?" She asked.

I'll have another glass of juice, a breakfast omelet, and a side of ham and bacon. Jericho told her. She nodded, writing his order down, and walked back to the cook to add in Jericho's second order.

What are you doing? Kyd Wykkyd asked as Jericho sat back down. Jericho noticed that Wykkyd was sitting in his seat properly again, and didn't look like he was going to leave.

You need to eat. Jericho replied calmly. Kyd hesitated, than nodded. Jericho looked at Kyd's eyes, thinking something was different.

Now, instead of a dull gleam of someone without hope, they had the bright awareness of someone who had just been thrown a lifeline.