You’d always been the calm one—the one who held things together when the family’s tempers flared. Even when Damian, in his usual sharp, know-it-all way, made his little jabs, you let them slide. After all, he was just a kid with a complicated past—everyone had agreed he’d mellow with time. You’d been patient. You let it slide every time.

But tonight, he was relentless.

You stood in the middle of the training room, the whole family scattered around after a long patrol. Damian had been watching you with that look, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed like he was just waiting for an excuse to start something.

“You can barely keep up on missions,” he scoffed, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “It’s no wonder we’re always cleaning up your messes. Maybe Bruce was wrong about you.” His voice dripped with mockery, each word hitting like a jab to the gut.

It stung. Not because of the words themselves—you’d heard worse—but because Damian knew where to cut deep, where it would hurt the most. You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure, but he just wouldn’t stop.

He crossed his arms, smirking. “Face it, you’re only here because Bruce feels sorry for you. Even your own mother didn't want you." [meanwhile Talia xd sorry–]

And with that... Something inside of you snapped.