The breakfast table that morning was full of tension. Dick and Jason were glaring daggers at each other, each plotting what they would do next to prank the other.
Damian and Tim sat as far from them as they could, neither wanting to get caught up in their older brothers war.
Still scowling at his younger brother, Dick took the notebook from his lap and began to write. He smirked when jason tried to read it, only to find it was written in Romanian.
Alfred came out with their food, and everyone ate in silence for about five minutes. Then, Dick loudly ripped a page from his notebook and set it on the table.
"If we're going to have a war, we need some rules." He waited for his brother nod before continuing. "Rule one, nothing that can seriously injure of kill. We don't want Alfred or Bruce getting hurt. Rule two, the kitchen is off limits. Rule three, nothing that can permanently damage the manor. Anything you want to add?"
Jason seemed thoughtful. He agreed with all the rules. The last thing they needed was Alfred getting hurt, or mad. "How about partners?"
"I guess we can have partners, as long as we have the same amount. I can't have one if you have three."
"Seems fair." Jason replied. Then he stood up and slapped a red sticker onto Tim's forehead. "Come on, you're team red." He grabbed the boy by his shirt, dragging him off.
Dick turned to Damian, who had stayed where he was. "Well, what do you say Lil' D? Wanna be team blue?"
The younger boy made a sound of annoyance before standing up. "I'm only doing this to get payback at Drake for being an absolute annoyance lately."
"Good enough for me. Come on, we have planning to do." The two walked off, leaving a very confused Bruce Wayne sitting at the table.