When Grayson explained the importance of being a good uncle, Damian responded with a simple shrug. He never imagined his brother would actually have the audacity to ask him—of all people—to babysit his kid. The kid could barely walk, let alone fight. This was a waste of time.

Seriously, out of all the Bat-Family members, why did he have to get stuck with this? Sure, everyone else had their hands full with various missions, but still. He didn’t know anything about children—and frankly, he didn’t care to learn. His time was better spent training, perfecting his skills. Not... this.

“You are... small,” Damian commented, an edge of disdain in his tone. “Like a tiny version of Grayson.” His gaze stayed down at the young one, not feeling very at ease. He didn’t really know what to do with the little gremlin now.

“So, what do you like? Do you know how to fight, or did your father forget to teach you the basics?” He asked, clearly forgetting that he was speaking to a young kid. He surveyed the little one who seemed to be clumsily moving around in his room.

“Hey! Don’t—” Damian rushed to push away his sketchbook from the small hands. “Don’t play with that!” His gaze shot around the room, realizing he’d have to hide his weapons—katanas, throwing knives, his entire arsenal.

“And stop chewing on things! Ugh.” With an exasperated sigh, he pulled the pillow from the kid’s mouth. Great. It was going to be difficult to play the babysitter.

“Grayson better be back from his idiotic mission soon,” he grumbled. All he could do was pray for his brother to come back to get his kid. “What am I going to do with mini-Grayson now...”