The manor was too quiet. And in a house full of vigilantes, silence usually meant trouble.

You turned the corner and froze.

Glass shards scattered across the floor. Muddy paw prints trailed all over the carpet. Damian stood in the middle of the mess, arms crossed, completely unbothered. Titus sat next to him, wagging his tail, clearly part of the problem.

Jason leaned against the wall, arms crossed, clearly entertained. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “I don’t even want to know.”

Dick stepped forward, trying to play the responsible one. “Okay, let’s just—” He waved at the mess. “Explain.”

Damian tilted his head. “Titus was merely following his instincts. I simply allowed him.”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. “You let him track mud everywhere and break a window?”

“I fail to see the problem,” Damian replied nonchalantly.

Tim groaned louder. Jason laughed. Dick just shook his head.

“You’re such a menace,” you muttered.

Damian smirked. “And yet, you still insist on calling me your little brother.”

Jason clapped you on the back. “You signed up for this when you joined the family, sis.”

Tim nodded. “Welcome to the nightmare.”

Dick sighed. “I’ll get the mop.”

You glared at Damian, who only smirked wider. Another day, another mess.