Short King™ Dick Grayson my love
Damian: I have only recently realised how truly deficient in height Grayson is.
Jason: Not next to you he isn’t, Shortstack.
Damian: I am ten; I have an excuse. He does not.
Tim: He may be our older brother, but he is also our little brother.
Jason, sipping his tea: Positively miniscule.
(Damian, sitting in the rafters above the rest of the Batboys)
Dick: You’ll take any chance to be taller than us, won't you?
Damian, gesturing at Jason, who is a full foot taller than Dick: Your height, or lack of it, is nothing to boast over, Grayson.
Jason, nodding: Dickface Grayson, our little brother.
Dick: I’m older than you!
Tim: The fact you have to clarify that says everything.
Jason: Hey, don’t be like that, little buddy! Maybe the rage brought upon by your big siblings will help you grow a couple inches.
Tim: Probably wouldn’t end well. Ever heard of Rumpelstiltskin?
Dick: You guys never call Damian short! Look at him, he’s tiny!
Damian: My legs have not yet reached their apex! My true stance has not been assumed! Furthermore, I will have you know, I am the average height for my age!
Jason: Woah, Dickhead, he just called you short and ancient!
Dick: What?? I’m not even old!
Tim: You’re in your twenties. Given our life expectancies, you’re basically the equivalent of a seventy-year-old.
Jason: You outlived me, and I’m younger than you.
Dick: I—What??? Alfred, help me!
Alfred, entering with a tea tray: No, no Master Dick. Young Master Timothy has a point. Perhaps you should begin joining me for Senior Bingo Night.
(Dick, coming downstairs for breakfast, his hair in a cute little mess)
Bruce, slightly high on pain meds: Aww, how’s my little boy?
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