He was wrong.

It had been a few weeks since they had arrived in Gotham City. Tensions were not decreasing as he originally thought, it was a lot less awkward, but instead it is steadily increasing with each day slowly creeping by.

It was safe to say they were all bored out of their minds. The entertainment died within the first couple of days and now, the younger assassins were getting a little antsy. To be honest, so was he.

In the beginning, they had found different ways to entertain themselves. Red Hood would watch TV most of the time, Damian would be practicing or reading, or they would both spar against each other. Their activities would often exclude Dick, not that he was opposed to it. He understood why and besides, he found more productful ways of keeping himself busy.

He'd cleaned every inch of the apartment including the bedrooms. Both boys had refused to let him in, threatening to kill him if they did, but they didn't stop him when he went inside.

It took a while and a handful of glares, but now, you didn't breath in dead skin cells and mold. Everything was good until the entertainment they found lost its appeal. It was okay at first.

Then Red Hood and Damian got tired of sparing.

Now, those two have found a new way to keep themselves entertained that involves a lot of bruises and cuts. Dick shook his head, watching the pair start arguing about something again. He didn't know what since he had only been half listening.

He looked away before Damian threw the first punch. He knew it was coming. Damian has been trying to pick a fight with both of them for the past couple of days.

Dick frowned at shattered prices of a vase or a glass, he didn't know which, that littered the floor. It had unfortunately gotten in the way of one of the many brawls.

He grimaced quickly cleaning up the mess, glancing at them before shaking his head. He grabbed his keys off the counter.

Truth be told, he was going a little stir crazy too. Dick was used to being stuck in smaller places for long periods of time, but his associates were slowly wearing him down.

"I'm heading to the store, do either of you want anything?" He said walking towards the door.

They ignored him, continuing their fight. He took their silence as no leaving them to it.

Dick started the car, putting it into gear when the passenger door swung open. He turned, watching Damian get into the car. Damian raised an eyebrow at him when he waited for the older assassin. Dick pulled out, shrugging off the guy's absence.

A couple hours later, the two boys were leaving the overly crowded store. Turns out there was a sale going on so the store had been over crowded and the registers had lines up down the street.

They had spent most of the time wandering around the aisles. They hadn't really spoken, a semi awkward, comfortable silence.

Dick had learned something about the child left in his care. Well a few things actually. One. He made a little sound 'tt' a lot. Two. The kid has never tried junk food. Dick snuck some chips and sugary drinks into the cart he thought Damian would like. And three. The memory made his lip curl.

"How about we play a game?" Dick asked as he drove them back to the apartment. Damin clicked his tongue, making a little sound. "tt."

Dick took that as a yes.

"Everyday, you get to ask me one question and I have to answer it. If you repeat a question, you get to choose a different one. The only rule is that there are certain topics that I am not allowed to discuss, obviously, and if you happen to ask about them, I cannot give you an answer. So, avoid questions about assignments and past jobs or things of that nature. Other than that, you can ask me any question you want."

"Is participation required?"

"No, It's not. I thought it would be a good idea to pass the time. You looked like you were going a little stir crazy from being stuck inside," Dick said honestly.

"The only one who is crazy is you," Damian said.