Virgil García liked silence, or rather peace. Being friends with Jason Todd had basically signed him up for the opposite. The two had known each other since they were little, before Jason got adopted by Gotham's billionaire Bruce Wayne and became a vigilante.

Virgil huffed loudly, his irritation evident as he aggressively turned the page of his book. Normally, sitting on the kitchen counter meant that Jason would leave him alone — but not today. Today, Jason was needy.

Jason Todd was an irritation. He poked and prodded Virgil. He pinched him, tried to take the book out of his hands, licked him, and did literally anything to get his attention.

It was a common sight.

"Jason Peter Todd!" Virgil scowled, exhaling sharply. Jason smiled innocently at him. Virgil raised a single brow, his face unamused. "Will you stop now, you attention whore?"

"Stop what?" Jason asked, moving to stand between Virgil's legs. He took the book from his hands and placed it further away on the counter.

Virgil glared at him. "Why did I ever befriend you?"

"I'm not doing anything, sir," Jason teased.

Virgil rolled his eyes, sliding the bookmark into his book before gently closing it. He met Jason's eyes before smacking him with the book. "And who says words can't hurt people?"

"Virgil!? What the fuck?!"

"I'll do it again if you don't stop."

At that moment, Damian Wayne walked into the kitchen to get a drink, only to immediately regret his decision.

"Hey, Dami," Virgil greeted, waving with a bright grin.

Damian looked at him blankly. "You don't live here."

Virgil chuckled as Jason stepped away from his friend, holding the part of his head that had been hit. They exchanged a wide-eyed look before turning back to Damian.

"You've actually got a good night's sleep," Virgil teased, sliding off the counter to place the back of his hand against Damian's forehead.

Damian swatted his hand away. "I'll hit your face."

"Could you even reach? I mean, there's almost a foot between us, shortcake," Virgil teased.

Damian grumbled under his breath as he walked past the older man.

It wasn't a secret that Virgil was one of Damian's favorites, second only to Dick — although the position often rotated between the two. Maybe it was because Virgil wasn't competing for Bruce's attention the way his brothers did. Bruce wasn't a bad parent, but with four sons and one daughter (and many others constantly fighting for his attention), it was hard to balance everything — especially with Gotham's endless chaos.

Virgil, on the other hand, had all the time in the world. When he wasn't monitoring the vigilantes and warning them about upcoming crimes, he was basically free. And when Damian wasn't busy with his own training, he often found himself crossing paths with Virgil.

Even when Jason or Tim weren't at the manor, Damian suspected that Virgil was probably there.

Virgil could tell Damian needed more attention than he let on, so he tried to be discrete, offering passing comments about how impressed or proud he was of him. It wasn't much, but it made the boy feel a little better about life and himself.

Virgil placed the back of his hand to Damian's forehead again, studying him. "Why are you well-rested? You're never well-rested, you're tied for second-worst after Tim. Joint with Jay."

Damian scowled, rolling his eyes. "It's not my fault you're all too irritating to let me sleep."

"You didn't sleep here," Jason interjected, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. "We returned before you did, and you didn't come back until just before breakfast."

"So you're stalking me?" Damian shot back.

"It's literally my job," Virgil responded, snickering to himself. "So, were you with a girl? A boy, maybe?"

Damian shot Virgil a look. "I hate you," he muttered, his voice as deadpan as ever.

Virgil saw through the attitude and laughed softly. "Okay, buddy."

Jason's eyes narrowed as he watched his brother. He didn't understand why Virgil liked Damian so much. As far as Jason was concerned, the kid was the spawn of Satan. Yet Virgil seemed to be one of his best friends. It wasn't fair because Jason had always thought that spot was meant to be his.

Damian admired Virgil, though. He admired the way Virgil lived his life with ease, the way he communicated his emotions, and how he understood his own feelings without much trouble. He wondered what a normal life would be like, but at the same time, he didn't want it.

The mundaneness wasn't him.

Still, Damian couldn't deny that there was something about Virgil's calm, carefree nature that intrigued him. Virgil seemed to have everything figured out, while Damian's life had always been complicated — balancing his training, his family expectations, and the ever-present sense of being pulled in too many directions.

He envied that simplicity, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud.

"I really don't get you," Jason said, still eyeing his brother with a mixture of suspicion and confusion. "You're a pain in the ass, Dami, but for some reason, Virgil tolerates you. Like, really tolerates you."

Damian simply shrugged, trying to brush off the comment. He didn't want to let them know how much he appreciated having Virgil around. It wasn't something he was comfortable sharing.

The truth was, the older man was the one person who didn't make him feel like a weapon or a tool. Virgil didn't ask for anything in return, and that was a feeling Damian had never been able to shake.

"Are you guys done yet?" Damian muttered, pulling his jacket tighter around his body as he moved toward the exit. "I have things to do."

Virgil chuckled, watching him leave. "See you around, shortcake."

Damian rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress the faintest of smiles as he walked out of the kitchen.