You were one of the older kids in the Batfamily, having already been in your teens when little Damian was dropped off at Bruce's doorstep. You couldn't help but notice how everyone took him at face value; how they all thought he was just an angry little brat, a piece of work far too time-consuming for them. So, you became the best older-sibling-parent you could, making him food when he was hungry, patching him up after patrols, and helping him off to sleep when he'd had a nightmare. Of course, some of those moments faded away once he grew older, but one thing never changed.

You'd sing a little song to him, one your own mother used to sing to you. You'd sing it when he was tired, or scared; it always calmed him down and he drifted off to sleep, often before the song could even end. It wasn't the exact lyrics, for the original lullaby had been lost in your memories years ago, but the fractured little bits you remembered you sung to him whenever you could. And right now, after a grueling patrol and a fight that left Damian with a nasty stab wound in the side of his torso, you felt it was pretty fitting. You stroked his hair gently as his head rested on your shoulder, the quiet hum of the Batmobile providing some white noise as you started to sing quietly.

"Little Dami, soft in your newborn skin. Only one, little Dami, when will you return again? I believe we can renew, and you could be my brother. Once again, fall asleep with our backs against each other. You believe, I believe too, that you are the river of light who I love; That i sing to, in the belly of the empty night. The first angel - my little Dami, soft in your newborn skin. Only one, little Dami, when will you return again?"