"Father," Damian shouted over the breakfast table one morning. It had been peaceful up until Damain had arisen from his room like Talia from her crypt, and stomped down the stairs to demand that Alfred feed him.

Tim took a bite of Alfred's pancakes and groaned. The little hellion was up to no good, and Tim wished he'd settled for a quick bowl of sugary cereal earlier. Then he could have eaten his breakfast in peace. But then he would have contended with Alfred's sighing over his breakfast choices. Alfred's sighs could be very expressive, and the one he most often made when Tim was choosing his morning meal could best be translated as: 'You Can Certainly Eat Whatever You Want, Master Timothy, But I Spent All Morning Making Pancakes and Cutting Strawberries Into Animal Shapes, And All You Children Ever Eat Is Stale Sugar Coated Garbage. Would It Really Inconvenience You So Much to Eat a Healthy Meal For Once In Your Life?'

So…yeah. Tim was still stuck at the breakfast table, since he couldn't deal with an Alfred guilt trip right now. Plus Alfred's pancakes were the best, and the strawberries were shaped like kittens and bunnies.

"Father!" Damian repeated, pounding his silverware on the table, and leaving an indentation that made Alfred wince.

"Damian, no denting the furniture before breakfast," Bruce said absentmindedly while sipping his coffee.

"You're nearly as well-mannered a young man as Master Bruce used to be at your age, Master Damian," Alfred observed.

"Hey-" Bruce said, looking unsure whether Alfred had just insulted him. In Bruce's defense, he hadn't yet finished his first cup of coffee.

"Father!"

"Uh, what?" Bruce asked, finally turning to face his son, who glared angrily in his direction.

"Father, everyone's training here leaves much to be desired. With the exception of Cassandra."

"Ha, I bet Cassie beat you up!" Tim said through a mouthful of pancake. Now that he would pay to see. It probably hadn't been all that exciting though, not in the traditional sense. Damian and Cassie had probably ninja-stared at each other for an hour until Damian finally flinched or something.

"Don't be absurd, Drake. Just because she is the only member of the household with adequate training doesn't mean she can defeat me."

Tim smirked and sat back in his seat. "Oh yeah, Cass definitely beat you. How long did it take before you lost?"

"Silence, Drake. Don't insult your betters."

"Hey, I trained with Shaolin monks once," Tim protested.

Damian sneered. "Really, Drake. I doubt it. Or if you did, I'm sure they only gave you the watered down 'tourist' training."

"We all have Batman training, we don't need Demon Spawn training."

"Who doesn't need training?" Dick asked as he sat down at the table with a plate of eggs, bacon, pancakes, the rest of the animal-shaped fruit, and sausage.

It was at that moment Tim knew he was doomed. Doomed to an undetermined time of demon spawn training, that would most likely only end in his death. Maybe he should start carving an epitaph on his tombstone now: Here lies Tim Drake, trained to death by a Demonic Ninja Brat.

"Grayson! I've been trying to tell father that the training at the manor is inadequate."

Dick laughed and ruffled Damian's hair. "Is it? Let me guess, you're offering to fix it?"

Anyone else would have gotten a knife in their side, but Damian proved he had at least partially warmed up to Dick by simply scowling and straightening his hair. "Yes, I've already come up with a training schedule that we can begin to implement this weekend."

Tim groaned and rolled his eyes. Dick had a huge soft spot for Damian, and never took anything the demon said seriously, not even death threats.

"Sounds like fun. We can always use more training."

"But…..not Demon Spawn Ninja Assassin training!" Tim sputtered, hoping desperately that Bruce might intervene.

"Aw, Tim, but it'd be so cute. And a good learning experience for little D to be in charge."

Damian folded his arms and smirked directly at Tim. "Father!" he shouted again, hitting a pitch that could nearly be classified as a demonic shriek. "We can keep Grayson. He at least is trainable. Drake and Todd are lost causes, and blights upon the family name. I think you should evict them from the manor at once."

"See! See what he does?" Tim shouted. "It's not about trying to help anyone get better, Demon Spawn just wants any excuse at all to get rid of me or kill me!"

Dick patted Damian's shoulder. "Aw, Dami, you don't really mean that. You won't have as many people to train if they leave."

"Besides, if anyone left, it's more likely to be the other way around," Tim mumbled under his breath. Demon Brat gave him a vicious glare, but Tim just shrugged. It was no secret Dick still had an apartment in Bludhaven, even if it was likely currently classified as a biohazard. And Dick was the most likely to get in an argument with Bruce. Jason was the next likely to leave, but none of them were even sure whether or not Jason was living here anyway.

"No-ones getting evicted," Bruce grumbled around his piece of toast.

"Father!" Damian shouted again.

Bruce slammed a fist on the table. "All right, that's enough arguing. Everyone eat your breakfast."

-x-

Tim decided that he would save his life the only way he knew how – pack a few things, escape out the window, and spend a few weeks with someone else, maybe Superman. Hopefully Demon Spawn wouldn't be on the warpath and would forget the whole ordeal by then.

What he hadn't counted on was Dick's disappointed look when Tim just had one foot outside.

"Tim," he said, scrunching his eyebrows up. "I know you and Damian don't always get along, but you have to give him a chance."

Tim inched his foot out onto the roof. Maybe if he left really slowly we wouldn't feel the weight of his older brother's disappointment as much. "What? A chance to kill me?"

Dick sighed. "I know he can be a handful sometimes-"

"Sometimes?"

"-but if you cut him off before he even has a chance to try, or always expect the worst of him, things won't change."

"Yeah, no thanks. I enjoy being alive." Tim leaned towards the roof again. Only five more feet and a drop into Alfred's shrubbery to freedom. Prickly freedom, but Tim had survived worse.

"Even if it gets bad, you know none of us would really let you get hurt. Even Damian wouldn't really hurt you. He sees you as his little rival, you're the closest to him in age, so he's trying to do better than you. It's cute really."

Tim's eye twitched. Cute? Cute as an angry nest full of paper wasps. On the other hand, Kori probably thought paper wasps were cute. Dick was definitely spending too much time with her.

"Besides, no matter how much you know, you can always benefit from more training. Aren't you at least curious to see a few League of Assassins training techniques?"

Tim bit his lip, and wobbled in the window. Sure he would have no problem with a few League of Assassins lessons, if anyone else in the world had offered to teach them.

"If it goes well, I can try to talk Bruce into letting each of us run a training class for the others."

Tim considered the possibilities. It could be fun to be in charge. Maybe it'd be fun to train Dick and Cassie. Jason and Damian would likely question his every word and make training them hell on Earth. Tim paled at the thought of Jason having a turn being in charge. "Do you really want Jason training Damian?"

Dick winced. "Uh, well obviously Bruce would have final say over what we actually learn."

Tim knew it was unfair to push, but his life was at stake. "Would you let Jason be in charge?"

There was a definite flinch at the words, and Tim started mentally congratulating himself. Saved by his own intelligence. Hallelujah. Tim loved being smart.

But unfortunately, he had underestimated how much of a martyr his oldest brother could be.

Dick sighed. "It wouldn't be ideal, but yeah, everyone should get a chance. Even Jason."

Tim snorted and stared at Dick dubiously.

"And maybe if you let Damian be in charge for a few days, he won't feel the need to act out so much to try and prove himself to you."

"What, so I'm supposed to make all the sacrifices?"

Dick lightly punched his arm. "Part of being a family, kiddo. We all have to take turns helping each other."

Tim guiltily remembered all the times Dick had stayed late to teach him special back flip landings that had taken forever to master. He hesitated in the window for one more second, then sighed and jumped back down into his room. "Fine, I'll give it a try."

And just like that, Tim was guilt-tripped into walking freely to his own death. Maybe he should add that part to his tombstone.

-x-

Two hours later, Dick had apparently guilt-tripped almost everyone in the manor to attend Damian's training class. Or maybe Jason was hoping to teach the next class, Tim wasn't sure. But from the scowl on Jason's face he looked to be at least as unhappy as Tim to be there. In fact, he looked about ready to climb back into the Lazarus pit and be done with everything. Bruce was texting on his phone, and only Dick and Cassie looked excited over the impending training.

They were gathered on the back lawn, since Demon-Brat had snidely informed them that they wouldn't be training in a climate-controlled room like weaklings. Helllspawn now stood in the middle of the group, tiny fists on his waist.

"To warm up, everyone is going to carry two five-gallon buckets of water around the manor. After you finish your twenty laps, I'll measure the amount of water missing, and you'll have to complete five extra minutes of training for every milliliter missing."

Cassie nodded, picked up two buckets filled with water, and began running around the manor.

"That's mixing metric and standard," Tim piped up.

"And anyone who questions my authority will be given one extra bucket."

"If you're wrong, we get punished? How are we supposed to carry three buckets?"

"You won't have to carry three Drake, since you'll be carrying five."

"Make me," Tim said, and very maturely stuck his tongue out. He knew this would end a disaster, why pretend it was anything else?

Bruce looked upset, Dick looked about ready to tear his hair out, and Jason was doubled over laughing.

"Grayson!" Damian raged. "I'm in charge, force Drake to obey me!"

"Dami," Dick said, placing a hand on Demon Spawn's shoulder. "Maybe you should go a little easier on your students the first day. Save the punishments until they know what to expect from you."

Demon Brat's face twisted in rage. "Fine. But only because you request it, and only if Drake apologizes for his transgression by groveling at my feet."

Oh, that was so not happening. Tim walked over and picked up two of the buckets. "Sorry for bruising your fragile ego," he snarked.

"Tim…" Dick groaned.

"What, I'm starting my training, what more do you want?" Tim almost felt guilty about leaving Dick and Bruce to deal with the little hellion as he carried his buckets and started trudging around the manor. Almost. Those buckets were damn heavy.

-x-

In his defense, Tim had fully intended to complete the training to the best of his ability. But unfortunately, Jason slowed down ahead of him, then suddenly turned and 'accidentally' kicked one of Tim's buckets, sloshing at least a gallon onto the ground, Tim then set both buckets on the ground and gave Jason a giant shove. "Watch where you're going, Jay."

Jason easily stepped to the side and dropped his empty buckets.

"Jason, what-"

"Please, do you really think I'm going to let Demon Spawn boss me around?" Jason grinned and kicked over one of Tim's buckets. "I emptied mine as soon as I was out of sight. As long as we empty everyone else's bucket, we can't be singled out."

"Woah, woah, wait a minute. There's no 'we'. I never agreed to this, you just kicked over my bucket, and if I tell Dick or Bruce, they're gonna be pissed at you." It wasn't as though Tim really cared about completing the training, but he had promised Dick he'd at least try, and it was totally unfair that Jason was the one to sabotage him, and it wasn't as if Tim wanted to make this debacle even worse. "Things are difficult enough already without you stirring the pot. Are you trying to piss off Dick and Bruce? Are you trying to get me murdered by Demon Brat?"

"Suit yourself, Drama Queen Timberly." Jason cackled evilly, then disappeared into the bushes, probably to lie in wait for Bruce or Dick.

Tim threw his emptied bucket at Jason's retreating form, because of course he was not a drama queen. If anyone in the family was a drama queen, it was zombie Jason who had only recently decided to stop trying to kill them all.

After retrieving his bucket from a prickly shrub, Tim paused for a moment. Maybe that was the true purpose of the drill? It was a League of Assassins training technique after all. The point could be to sabotage the others. Tim sighed and emptied the remaining water out of his bucket. At least now it was easier. And it wasn't like Demon Brat could punish him any more once all the water was gone.

-x-

At the end of the drill, only Cassie had full buckets of water. Jason had evilly waited until the very end to trip Bruce and Dick, and they sheepishly placed their almost emptied buckets next to Tim and Jason's dry buckets.

"There sure were a lot of tree roots around," Dick said, giving Jason a dirty look.

"Yes, I noticed that too. I'll have Alfred look into it," Bruce grumbled, also glancing at Jason. "Hopefully we won't have the same problem tomorrow."

Damian turned beet red. "Father, Grayson, how could you be so clumsy? I expected such incompetence from Drake and Todd, but I see only Cassandra is competent. The rest of you will need even more remedial training."

-x

They spent the next three hours practicing kicks and jumps. Damian practiced with them for a little while, and if they had stopped at that, maybe Tim would have been able to forgive him. But no, Demon Spawn still had more pain planned for them today.

As they finished up kicking, Damian brought out a pile of bricks and a staff. "Since four of you couldn't even pass the water bucket test, I am giving you a simple exercise and allowing you to use bricks instead of bowls of water.

"Are we balancing the bricks on the staff?" Tim asked hopefully.

Damian sneered at Tim. "No Drake. You'll have to earn the right to do something that fun. This exercise will help you improve your abysmal leg strength."

Jason made a coughing noise, and Tim rolled his eyes. At least they would have to stop sometime soon to have time for dinner before patrol.

Damian walked back to the pile of bricks. "I'll have Grayson demonstrate, since at least he can be competent some of the time."

Dick laughed as if Damian was only joking, and settled into a squat, with his thighs parallel to the ground and arms level. Damian then stacked bricks on Dick's legs and arms.

"The point of the exercise is to hold your pose and don't move," Damian said, picking up the staff. "Hopefully, even a simpleton like Drake will be able to understand the concept." Damian paused and glanced over at Cassie. "Cassandra does not have to participate, but she can if she wishes to."

Bruce started settling into a squat, glancing over at Damian with a confused look. "How long do you expect your students to hold the pose, Damian? And you haven't used the staff yet."

"One hour should be sufficient," Spawn of Satan said. "And I haven't used the staff yet since Grayson hasn't messed up. It's for hitting students, surely you could figure that one out, father."

"Oh hell no," Tim shouted, throwing his hands up in the air and edging away. "If you think I'm going to let that little psychopath beat me-" And certainly Demon Spawn would pick on Tim the most. It was probably all part of his demonic plan.

"Yeah, I'm done too," Jason said shrugging and walking towards the manor.

"You can't just leave!" Damian bellowed. "Father, make them stay!"

Bruce scratched the back of his neck. "Damian, it's been a long day, maybe now would be a good stopping point. We all need to eat and get ready for patrol."

"Father, surely you don't expect to allow anyone but Cassandra to eat. None of the rest have earned it."

Bruce sighed and held his head in his hands. "Damian…"

"Bruce is right," Dick said, voice sounding strained. "This is a good stopping point for today."

"Don't move, Grayson. At least I can have one student complete today's training."

Tim paused, shook his head then turned back towards the manor. No, there was no way he was going to think about the implications of this being easy League of Assassins training and feel sorry for Demon Spawn. No way at all.

"Hey, Tim! Ask Alfred if he's serving peas with dinner. I'd like a peas-ful meal."

Tim groaned and facepalmed.

"Grayson! Focus!" Damian raged, whacking him with the staff in a few places where the bricks shook.

Dick chuckled and gazed at Damian fondly, as if he had found a particularly cute baby scorpion to play with. ("But Tim, look how cute it is; it's got tiny little pinchers and it's trying to sting. D'aw.") Tim didn't care how cute or tiny any arachnids were. Venomous things were venomous, no matter the size. Dick had definitely been spending too much time with Kori.

"This is no time for your wordplay," Demon Brat huffed.

A huge smile spread across Dick's face. The kind of smile that meant he was planning an even worse pun. "Hey, Tim! Tell Alfred we need more thyme to season our meal too."

"Dami…Ow! Hey!" There was a pause while Dick caught his breath. And then, since he never shut up ever, he continued. "I guess you could say the pun-ishment fits the crime."

Tim hurried inside before he could be subjected to even more terrible puns.