[ It's as if Dick has just suggested that maybe one day he'll even like Drake, too. And Todd, for good measure. His nose wrinkles, immediate, and his grimace is almost visceral.

Never. ]

I like the super dog better than I like the super man.

[ He's exaggerating, however. Fronting. A check-in with Bruce would tell Dick all he'd need to know. Damian and Clark, although awkward (and Damian, haughty and refusing to listen), have made tentative peace. A single chord, struck, that occasionally gets them through a training session without extreme amounts of backtalk and sass and frustration.

Clark had been guilty. Guilty that he'd actively discouraged, even tried to prevent, Bruce from doing what it took to bring his son back. And now that the boy, alive and well because Bruce had gone behind the League's backs, was in front of him? There'd been regret.

Damian had been very quick to wipe that regret off his face. No pity-parties, no guilt, he refused to stand for it. Shut up and teach him.

It had helped. Surprisingly. ]

Besides, he needs his ego checked. At least one person who won't worship the ground he walks on. Otherwise his head gets too big.

[ This child. ]