It Sucks Being the Youngest: Bad Blood Edition

Number 81: Shortstack

He doesn't like this woman with the red hair and the red bat motif splashed across her chest, as if she's deserving of the same power his father has achieved over years of hard work and persecution. Everyone these days' thinks pulling on a costume makes them a symbol of justice or a reliable fighter; they think they can right all the wrongs of Gotham and the world by their mere appearance.

He doesn't mind her choice of weaponry much; the guns remind him intimately of Todd.

He knows the hair is fake as it moves all at the same time and is consistently rouged and untouched by grey or even dirt, it glimmers like synthetic plastic.

Her attitude is coarse and harsh, there are some skeletons in the closet no doubt, and she has the gall to strut around and call him…shortstack.

His physical stature is hardly the ideal way to measure to his strength, and he knows he's the youngest of the assembled team, but he's faced demons of his own. He was groomed by shadows and assassins, can deconstruct a foe with a cold and calculating eye.

…but shortstack?

"A little childish, don't you think?" Grayson remarks, his tone half-snide and half-endeared.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on Damian, you've done nothing but scowl since we left."

"I think you've equated my normal expression with scowling, don't look for things that aren't there."

Dick's eyes leave the road and he smiles infuriatingly.

"She really got under your skin, huh? Never thought "shortstack" would do you in."

"And I'd hate for a case of distracted driving to do you in, Grayson, eyes on the road."

Number 82: Inheritors of the Cowl

After speaking with Bruce by the poolside, Damian is emotionally exhausted and his head is throbbing like the distant stereo thumping workout music in the next room. Cosmas is curled up against Damian's side, the death of Talia hasn't effected him nearly as much if at all; his mind drifts to the other, older clone who lost his life. A hollow shell striving for something more. Cosmas dreams of living a long fulfilling life with his brothers and sisters and father, but then the ghost of his grandfather shatters the peaceful scene, swallowing Cosmas whole. Not that he'll tell anyone.

And Damian sighs gratefully when the music cuts out, shutting his eyes tightly as light from the hallway outside spears through the gloom of his room. Judging by the light treading sound against the carpeted floor, Damian knows it's Grayson.

And Dick knows Damian is still prickly about the entire ordeal but he lowers himself onto the mattress and cautiously, ever so gently, passes his hand through Damian's hair. Damian freezes up, the sensation not so foreign, but strange enough to make him pause. The strained relationship between him and Dick was as taut as a wire threatening to break, both unsure of how to proceed, how to ensure nothing will break.

"If it means anything, I think you'd be a good Batman…when you're older."

"Likewise," Damian responds with hint of mirth. Dick chuckles.

"Don't rush though, you've got a lot ahead of you." He rises off the bed and Damian opens his eyes, sitting up slowly so not to disturb his twin.

"Did you mean what you said earlier? About wanting to escape Father's shadow?"

"Yeah…" Dick stares outside for a moment, then back into the hallway as Bruce ghosts pass the doorway.

"I think, maybe, you've accomplished that." Damian mutters, catching the gushing look on Dick's face. "But don't let that go to your head."

Number 83: Weak

Damian is small, pitifully small, at times.

Practically dragging his father through one of the League of Shadows old fortresses makes him realize this immediately. Bruce is awake but reminiscent of a staggering zombie, his eyes hazy and glazed open, vacantly staring forward if Damian doesn't speak to him often. And Damian tries not to think about that or how Bruce shudders at slight sounds, his breath cutting out for long minutes unless Damian prods him or speaks to him. Damian isn't keen on emotional, touchy-feely moments, and the near-constant encouragement he has to feed his father is…terrifying.

His heart nearly stops when Cosmas veers around the corner with Grayson at his heels, the two of them helping as best they can as Bruce sags and his eyes shut. Cosmas's eyes are wide and fearful, he'd run ahead to find help, he's still replaying the older clone's death with a sinking sense of dread.

Damian senses his twin's distress, he feels the utter exhaustion radiating from his father, the urgency in Grayson – and he feels too weak to alleviate any of the stress.

Number 84: Small

The issue being so small is how people assume height somehow translates into emotional depth. Damian is still a trained warrior and has experienced traumas of his own, and seeing his father so broken down is…difficult. Attempts to aid him are met with slow blinking eyes and smiles that are more pitying than grateful; as if to say "look at this poor emotionally distant child trying to relate to humans and fail".

Damian bears with it for only so long until enlisting Alfred's help and sequestering Bruce in his room.

Number 85: Family

Tim doesn't stay at the Manor long when everyone gets home. He sees Bruce take Damian aside and figures he shouldn't poke the bear too much. Considering his adoptive brother's upbringing, he doesn't expect the loss of Talia to take too much of a toll, but even Cosmas is shaken up by the whole thing. Cosmas sees Tim seek out the door and catches his arms, pulling Tim to a nearby seat that has a view of the window, outside Bruce and Damian sit by the pool.

"I never hear much about your family, Tim." Cosmas begins. "Are they also dead?"

"No, in hiding."

Cosmas leans in.

"I found out about Bruce and Dick's identity's when I was little, and that kind of knowledge put me and my family at risk. Bruce got them new identity's and had them resettled somewhere else, took me in so I wouldn't get into too much trouble."

"Oh," Cosmas says slowly. "So…they're alive."

"Yeah. Don't see them too much, Dad's was a little peeved that I was Robin, made me quit for a whole year."

Of course, Stephanie just had to come over in her own Robin suit and get him off his ass.

"Do you…miss them?"

"Yeah, but I've got family here so it doesn't hurt as much. You and Damian, and the others, you all help me…"

Tim yawns and stretches his arms over his head. Cosmas mimics him and shakes his head, standing up when he can no longer see his father and brother. Tim rises and pats his back, motioning for the smaller boy to follow him into the living room. Dick is passed out on one of the couches, suit still on, and Alfred has placed the television on a kids cartoon, the simple sounds and bright colours lulling the oldest Robin deeper into sleep. Tim takes the loveseat and pulls Cosmas in beside him.

When Bruce finishes his talk with Damian, the two of them return inside to se most everyone curled up in the living, blankets spread all over the place and a Land Before Time movie playing in the background.