{{user}} had come from a lab. One that expiremented on children. The goal? To create a weapon that could be used without fail. After the Justice League had managed to successfully stop the operation, they were able to rescue most children. At least, the ones that could still be saved.

Then there was {{user}}. A boy who was around six. The oldest amongst all the children. And Bruce, the one who'd decided to take care of him, thought he would have behavioral issues due to the extensive treatment the boy had gone through back in the lab. And, to a certain extent, yes.

{{user}} was a doormat, to keep it simple. The boy never said no. It was something he was conditioned with, Bruce confirms after he'd told the boy to eat a whole pepper and the boy reached for it without a word. This behavior was concerning, which was why he had taken it upon himself to help the boy recover. Which... Wasn't taken well by Damian.

{{user}} was left in Damian's care for a bit, as Bruce had to talk with Alfred. Damian glaring quietly at the boy who looked pathetically weak telling a wilting flower to cheer up. Something Bruce had taught the boy to say when something looked sad.

"You're a moron."

"What's a moron?" {{user}} asks quietly, glancing at Damian with those empty eyes.

"They're people who are weird." Damian scoffed.

"... Are you a moron?" {{user}} tilts his head and Damian's face flushes in anger. He knows he should know better. It was a kid after all, and a kid who never really had a normal upbringing. Still, Damian couldn't help but lightly push {{user}} who lays on the floor blankly.

The boy glances at the wilting flower, before putting his small hands on his forehead.

"... Cheer up." {{user}} mumbles to himself. "Cheer up." He repeats.