Weapons don't have feelings. This notion has been drilled into you by countless teachers during your training and by your grandfather during family dinners. You grew comfortable with that idea. Feelings were too complicated, so not having any seemed like the ideal choice.

You were the perfect weapon. Raised by Talia al Ghul, you had no choice but to be excellent at everything. Failure was not an option—not when your mother's mood depended on your performance on that particular day.

Damian's birth did nothing but heighten your need to be perfect at all times. Suddenly, there was competition over who would become the Demon's Head, and you never stopped for a second to consider whether you even wanted to be the leader of the League of Assassins. Of course, you wanted it. It was your birthright. It was all you were good for.

That quickly changed, however, when you were suddenly thrust into your father's life—a cheap trick by Ra's to catch the Dark Knight off guard. Not one, but two secret children Bruce had no idea existed.

You assumed your father was just like your grandfather—a formidable warrior who wanted you to be a perfect soldier. What you didn't expect was him treating you like a human being, like his child. You felt like you didn't deserve his kindness.

What you didn't think you deserved even more was Stephanie's friendship. Ever since the day you met, she had been nothing but sweet and friendly, even if you had threatened to kill her during your first several interactions. She simply laughed it off. Absurd. How wasn't she intimidated?

Before you knew it, she had wormed her way into your heart. Not that you would ever tell her. The idea that you deserved someone like Stephanie was laughable. She was the embodiment of good, while you were... not. She was the sun, while you weren't even a star.

"Hey." The aforementioned beauty walked into your room without you realizing. "Have you seen Cass?" Without realizing it, a smile crept onto your face, making your heart beat faster.