“Kill me.” Damian grumbled miserably over the toilet as he begged for the torture to end. His stomach lurched and he found himself worshipping the porcelain god. He was raised by assassins; trained by the best masters in the world there were little that could stop him or torment him…until today.
Hours ago he found himself trapped and coerced by his classmates. Normally, he would not stand for such injustice on his person, but unfortunately he had to oblige Drake’s whims. Even though he and the fat-girl have graduate and left him in college, he still insisted Damian continue to interact with his peers. Just from the look in his eyes and the grin on his face, he could read the intent of the older Robin. If he wanted any clues or help, he needed to endure the outing with civilians… peasants. Civility would be difficult.
“It’s not that bad.” Max, his pink-haired classmate, sighed in exasperation as she and Jared dragged him through the festivities outside the streets of Gotham U. “The way you’re acting, you look like you’ve never been to these little street fairs. Come on! It’s fun! Junk food, game stalls, flea markets there’s bound to be something you’ll enjoy.”
“… I don’t want junk food.” Damian replied, the ensemble of food looked nauseating.
“No way you’re getting out of this mister spoiled prince.” Jared said as he pushed Damian from behind.
Damian struggled against his temptation to flee from the crowded fair. The mixed scents from fried food to barbeque, to various other unhealthy options attacked his senses. He didn’t realize how much he took for granted Alfred’s loving home-cooked meals until now.
“Have you even tried half this stuff before?” Max asked as she glanced back to him curiously. “What do you normally eat?”
“Roasted pheasant with a raspberry reduced sauce and white truffles.” Damian replied bluntly. “And no, I have not tried nor intend to try this junk you call food.”
“Not even pizza?” Jared said in shock.
Damian glanced away in annoyance.
“I never thought I see the day.” Max shook her head and grabbed him by the hand. “Don’t know what rock you’ve been living under, but we’re going to get you introduced to the great joy of gorging unhealthily.”
Within minutes, he found himself dragged to the steps of the surrounding buildings as his two captors divided up the large quantity of food. Burgers, chilidogs, pizza, funnel cake, baby back ribs, corndogs, crepes, corn on the cob and countless other plates. All paid for by him as a tradeoff to leave early.
“… Do I have to eat this?” He stared at the messy chilidog that dripped and pooled on the plate against the third of a burger and the melted cheese on the pizza. They had divided up the food so he could try more than one item at a time.
“It’s good! Just try it.” Max urged.
His eye twitched as he held his breath and wolfed down each piece on his plate. He couldn’t say he liked many of the dishes. Either they were greasy, too salty or too sweet. Once he was done, the two promptly dragged him off to the flea market and shoved ridiculous hats and masks on him for a good laugh. He wasn’t the least bit amused.
“Come on, come on! I want to get a Batman. How good are you with water guns?” Max asked as she dragged him to the game booth with Lego Batman and Robin plush toys hanging on top.
“This is ridiculous.” Damian muttered at the easiest targets in his life. He could snipe someone 800 yards away. This was nothing.
“What? You scared that we’d beat you?” Jared commented with a sly grin.
Damian scowled, him afraid of these two civilians? He slapped a fifty down on the counter. “I’ll take you both down.”
Ten games and an armful of plush toys later Damian felt under the weather. His hands felt clammy and a chill went up his spine. Something was wrong.
“Are you feeling okay?” Max asked worriedly as she clung onto the number of Lego plush toys he had won.
“I’m fine.” He murmured as he swayed from the booth. His stomach turned. “I’m going home.”
The two protested and wouldn’t let him leave until he left them with his contact information. They were adamant for him to join their future outings. He couldn’t stick around much longer. He felt sick, poisoned maybe? He had no time to ponder. He gave them his number and hurried back to the manor. If it was a poison, there were various anti-toxins back at the cave. Even if it wasn’t, Grayson, Drake or Alfred could do something about this. He found himself worshipping the porcelain god minutes after he returned to the manor.
“… What did you eat?” Dick asked with a hand over his mouth as his Robin weakly flushed the contents away.
“Poison. I think those peasants tried to poison me.” Damian said weakly, his head rested against the seat cover.
“…I think you ate too much.” Dick shook his head as he knelt down to haul him up and back to his bed.
“Noooo, it’s poison! I know it is.” Damian slurred incoherently too weak to protest against him.
“Maybe a mild case of food poisoning, but it shouldn’t be anything too serious.” Dick said as he tucked him into bed. “Sleep, no patrolling tonight.”
“I could still patrol!” Damian protested weakly, but not a moment later, he was unconscious under his covers exhausted and stressed from the vomiting.
o.o.o.o.o
Three days later, Max and Jared phoned Terry when they noticed Robin stalking them incessantly during the evenings. At first they hadn’t notice the teen wonder, but after much training from Terry, they learned to notice things they normally wouldn’t. Things in their homes were out of place, their windows were left open and more importantly, they caught sight of a disappearing cape on one occasion.
They haven’t a clue what could’ve caused the violent wonder to be interested in them and judging by the rumors they heard of him, they really didn’t want to get on his wrong side. Broken limbs and tossed off the side of a building was considered him in a good mood. It terrified them to even imagine what would he do to them if he found a reason to.
After Terry interrogated them to every last detail to what they’ve done the past three days their helpful friend told them to leave out cold pizza or half eaten hot pockets. At first they were skeptical to why their friend would tell them to do such strange things, but within a few days, they quickly noticed a change.
Robin was no longer on their tails. If Terry had told them to leave out garlic bread or garlic, they would have thought of the violent wonder as a vampire… but cheese and pepperoni? Was one of the heroes of Gotham allergic to these things?
o.o.o.o.o
Damian scowled as he pondered how to investigate his two classmates. He was certain they were the one that poisoned him and he had a sinking suspicion that they might know he was stalking and following them. Why else would they leave such poisons to ward him away?
He couldn’t even stand the smell of the putrid item without the need to run to the bathroom and eject everything out of his stomach again. He raised a hand to cover his mouth. Even the thought was enough to sicken him.
He shook his head; this wasn’t what he needed. Today was his brother’s death day. Seven years since his death, four years since he started the ritual to stay by his empty grave in remembrance. His father had done the same for his grandparents and he found the same comfort in doing the same for his late brother.
He glanced to his watch, classes have already started, but he wasn’t going to bother with school. Grayson and Drake made no efforts to stop him when it came time for Terry’s death day. He made his way down to the door when the doorbell chimed. A frown marred his face, his hand lingered on the knob for a moment. Who on earth was visiting? Doesn’t Alfred normally deal with any nuisances that come to the manor?
Cautiously he opened the door and the putrid scent of pizza invaded his senses. Standing before him was Jason Todd in a pizza delivery attire. “Hey brat, I heard you love pizza.”
A hand quickly shot up to his mouth as Damian backed away. He wanted nothing more than to slaughter the man before him, but his stomach protested otherwise. He had no choice but to flee to the safety of the bathroom.
Had he stayed he would’ve heard Jason’s laughter and his wry comment. “I guess the kid was right. His kryptonite really is pizza.”
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