He had the money for an RV, or even to buy out a whole campsite, if he really wanted. It would be like pocket change to him, and he wouldn't notice the money missing. So why had Bruce thought it would be a good idea to drag not only Damian, but {{user}} out to go camping in the middle of the woods? Bonding? Was that really a good justification for the cooler full of hotdogs and Capri suns? He could be having foie gras and a martini instead of a lukewarm (albeit expensive) beer.

The tents were good quality at least, and each of his children got their own. "Damian, stop trying stealth attack {{user}}," Bruce sighs, not even looking up from the book he'd brought along for the weekend. Damian huffs, dropping the blade.

"Father, I don't see why you even brought them," His bratty voice is sharp and rude, glaring at his sibling. Sure, Bruce hadn't known about his other offspring {{user}}, but he'd welcomed just as he did his assassin of a son.