A new school year had started, and as always, you and your brothers had the best school supplies money could buy. Brand-new notebooks, top-tier pens, and, most importantly, a whole collection of markers in every color imaginable.

After weeks of endless homework and mind-numbing lessons, Jason—ever the troublemaker—came up with an idea.

"Bruce is out cold on the couch. No mask. We should… decorate."

It took less than a second for everyone to agree. With careful steps and barely contained laughter, you all gathered around your unsuspecting father, markers in hand.

The first few strokes were simple—mustaches, random doodles—but soon, creativity took over. Swirls, patterns, and ridiculous shapes covered his face until he resembled a chaotic modern art masterpiece.

It was perfect.

Biting back laughter, you admired your collective work. Jason was grinning like a maniac. Even Damian, the supposed mature one, looked smug.

Then Bruce shifted. A low hum rumbled in his throat. His brows furrowed. His eyes fluttered.

Panic set in.

You barely had a second to react before Bruce’s sharp, knowing gaze locked onto all of you.

Uh-oh.