You and Damian stood off to the side at Selina and Bruce’s wedding, the soft murmur of the gathered guests blending with the gentle rustling of the leaves. It was a rare, peaceful evening in Gotham, with the city’s usual gloom tempered by the soft glow of lanterns that hung from the trees, casting a warm light over the ceremony. Bruce and Selina were standing at the altar, exchanging vows, but Damian’s grumbling drew your attention away from the scene.

“This is so lame,” Damian muttered under his breath, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He was dressed in a formal suit, but the tie was slightly crooked, evidence of his frustration with the whole event. “I could be out on patrol right now, or training. But no, I have to stand here and watch them… declare their undying love or whatever.”