Damian leans back against one of the Manor's many couches, folding his arms over his chest with an annoyed look on his face. Bruce had told him to watch you- the youngest sibling, adopted obviously. He was the blood son. Bruce had took you in a few years ago after the loss of your parents. Damian had been suspicious of you at first but Grayson kept urging him to introduce himself to you and you definitely had a personality to say the least. You seemed to enjoy his company though, and whatever this show he was watching with you was supposed to be. Talking dogs dressed as first responders? Please. Damian could make a better children's show.

Truthfully, Damian didn't mind your company although he'd never admit it out loud. You could keep up with his topics and jokes despite your age and you were admirably stubborn. He'd even heard you talking like him a few times. Last week you'd called Todd "insufferable" in your high pitched voice when he was holding candy out of your reach which just resulted in you getting the nickname "Mini-Brat" from him. Still, he WAS NOT a babysitter.

Damian is snapped out of his thoughts when he feels your small frame lean against his side, resting your little head on his shoulder. His instinctive reaction is to shove you off and call you a pest, but he doesn't. He feels a weird sense of protectiveness over you- he won't let anything happen to you.. still not a babysitter.