Tim - 7
Damian - 1
Bruce - How ever old y'all want
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No One's POV
Bruce watched as baby Damian crawled around on the floor, occasionally stopping to admire something.
'What's Tim gonna think about this,' he thought. Right on cue, Tim walked into the room, his face in a book. "Hey Bruce, can ya do something for me?" He stopped as he heard wailing, and looked down.
He had accidently lightly kicked Damian, who was now hitting Tim's leg. Tim looked up at Bruce with wide eyes marked with confusion. "First it was Dick. Then it was Jason. Then it was me. Now this?"
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched Tim scowl at Damian, only to have him return it with a raspberry.
----------LA NEXT MORNING----------
Bruce woke up to the sound of a crash, followed along by screaming. He walked out of his room and into the kitchen, not suprised to see Tim and Damian yelling at eachother. He cleared his throat, making the two boys stop and stare at him.
"Tim. What happened here?" Tim pointed at Damian. "Demon spawn managed to grab hold of the tablecloth and pulled down the plate I was going to use! It shattered; don't blame me!"
Bruce looked at Damian, face-palming when he gave off a devilish smirk. "I swear to god, you two."
Tim walked off, not before asking, "So how long do we have him for?"
