Categories > Cartoons > Teen Titans > Every Warrior Has a Weakness
"I demand a rematch," Damian declared, his voice firm and unyielding, as he stared down his older brother, Dick Grayson.
Dick groaned inwardly. Ever since their last sparring session five days ago, Damian had become fixated on one thing: beating him. It was no surprise, really. Damian Wayne was notorious for being a sore loser, but Dick knew that his little brother could be just as obnoxious a winner. It was a trait inherited from both their father’s relentless drive and Damian's own stubborn pride. The kid didn’t take losing lightly.
"You’re really not going to let this go, are you?" Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had been looking forward to a peaceful evening, maybe even catching up on some much-needed sleep. But it seemed Damian had other plans.
"Of course not," Damian replied, his eyes narrowing in challenge. "You cheated last time."
"Cheated?" Dick raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "I didn’t cheat, Damian. You just got outplayed."
Damian crossed his arms, his glare intensifying. "Outplayed? No. I let my guard down. That won’t happen again."
Dick knew better than to argue with Damian when he was in this mood. The kid could be as stubborn as a mule when he set his mind to something. Instead, Dick tried a different tactic. "Raven thought it was cute," he said casually, hoping to defuse the situation.
"Yeah?" Damian shot back, his voice rising in frustration. "Guess what she’s been doing ever since?"
Before Dick could respond, Damian pounced, grabbing him in a headlock. The move caught Dick off guard, and he stumbled back a step as Damian tightened his grip.
"Hey, easy there!" Dick protested, though there was a note of amusement in his voice. Damian could be fierce when he wanted to be, and Dick admired that about him. But this time, he wasn’t going to let Damian get the upper hand so easily.
Damian, however, was determined. With a swift movement, he drove his elbow into Dick’s gut, causing him to grunt in pain. "Still think it’s cute?" Damian growled, but his victory was short-lived.
Dick retaliated quickly, his fingers finding Damian’s right side. He pressed his fingers into Damian’s ribs, tickling him mercilessly. It was a move Dick knew would catch his brother off guard, and sure enough, Damian let out a squeal, his feet kicking the floor as he tried to escape.
"Grayson, you—" Damian started, but his words dissolved into laughter as Dick continued his tickle assault.
Damian was horribly aware of how one-sided this fight had been so far. No matter how hard he tried, Dick just kept getting the advantage on him. It was infuriating, especially since he knew that tickling was his weakness. As his abs began to squirm under Dick’s relentless touch, Damian looked around desperately, trying to think of something, anything, besides how much it all tickled.
Dick had his bare feet pressed down against Damian’s wrists to keep him still, but he wasn’t pressing down very hard. Most of his concentration was on keeping Damian laughing, his fingers dancing up and down Damian’s sides. But Damian was nothing if not resourceful.
With a determined look in his eyes, Damian reached out and began tickling Dick’s feet, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin. The move was unexpected, and Dick couldn’t help but laugh, his grip on Damian loosening just enough for Damian to make his move.
Damian took advantage of the momentary lapse in Dick’s focus. He twisted his body, trying to turn Dick over so that he was lying on his front. Damian knew that if he could get Dick in that position, he’d have the upper hand. But Dick wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.
Realizing the danger, Dick launched himself at his little brother, pinning him to the floor with a swift, practiced move. He straddled Damian, using his weight to keep him down, and then began spidering his fingers up and down Damian’s stomach, a grin spreading across his face.
Damian’s laughter filled the room, a sound that was both playful and rare. For all his seriousness, Damian was still just a kid, and in moments like these, it was easy to forget that he was also one of the deadliest fighters in the world. Dick smiled happily and mischievously as his fingers moved down to Damian’s feet, continuing the tickle attack with renewed energy.
"GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Dick’s laughter echoed through the gym as Damian, in a desperate move, managed to turn the tables on his older brother. His fingers found their way to Dick’s sides and belly, attacking with a precision that came from years of training and observation.
"EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE! AH! NOHOHOHOHO!" Dick hollered in laughter, trying to fend off Damian’s prodding fingers. But it was no use. Damian had the upper hand now, and he wasn’t about to let it go.
Damian smirked triumphantly. "I win this time, Grayson."
But Dick wasn’t ready to concede defeat. With a quick movement, he grabbed Damian’s other ankle, pulling him off balance. He proceeded to tickle both of Damian’s feet, his fingers moving deftly across the soles and arches. Damian squeaked and squirmed, laughing like a hyena as Dick tormented his feet with unrelenting precision.
"NAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAA!" Damian was helpless in laughter, tugging on his ankles as his toes curled and wiggled in rhythm with Dick’s tickling fingers. It was a sight that made Dick’s heart swell with affection for his little brother.
"Do you give in?" Dick teased, his fingers now targeting Damian’s toes. The fiery ninja laughed and yelped, struggling to pull himself out of the predicament, but his efforts were in vain.
Refusing to be beaten twice, Damian gathered his strength and lunged at Dick, hugging his ankles and sending him tumbling to the floor. Damian quickly pinned Dick down, trying to use his upper-body strength to drag himself toward the door, but Dick wasn’t done yet.
They rolled around on the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand, until finally, Dick ended up on top of Damian once more. Locking Damian’s legs with his own, Dick found himself in an unusual position—his feet were now tangled with Damian’s, and the unintentional footsie made both of them giggle.
"Hehehey!" Damian yelped, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Dick’s laughter filled the air.
Dick’s laughter mixed with Damian’s giggles as he continued to fiddle with Damian’s feet using his own. His toes lightly stroked the arches of Damian’s feet, and he couldn’t help but grin at the playful turn their sparring match had taken.
"EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE! AH! NOHOHOHOHO!" Damian’s laughter was becoming uncontrollable, and Dick knew that his little brother was nearing his breaking point.
"Just tap out!" Dick urged, though there was a part of him that enjoyed drawing out the moment. It wasn’t often that he got to see this side of Damian—the side that was just a kid, full of laughter and mischief.
"AOAOhAOHAOOKkooOKK! aOhAOhAHAOAAOYyYOOoUuUWWWIIIiINNN! AOHAOHAOHAHjjuUUSSSTTtSSTTOhOHPPP!" Damian finally yelled, the words barely escaping his mouth between fits of laughter.
Dick stopped immediately, rolling off of Damian and lying on his back beside him. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as he looked over at his little brother, who was now sulking.
"If I lose to you, will you forget about this whole wrestling business and return to normal?" Dick asked, his tone placatory.
Damian growled in response, still catching his breath. "If you lose on purpose, I’ll kick your ass, cut you up into tiny pieces, and feed you to the sandworms."
Dick couldn’t help but laugh at the threat. Typical Damian—always so dramatic. But there was no doubt in his mind that Damian meant every word.
"Okay, okay," Dick said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No losing on purpose. But seriously, Damian, you need to learn how to take a loss without making it a big deal."
"It is a big deal," Damian insisted, his voice still tinged with frustration. "I should be able to beat you."
"You’re not going to win every time," Dick reminded him gently. "And that’s okay. Losing doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you’ve got more to learn."
Damian scowled, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, his mind clearly racing as he processed what Dick had said. Dick could see the wheels turning in Damian’s head, the fierce determination that drove him to be the best at everything he did.
Without saying a word, Grayson gently pulled Damian’s feet toward him. "What are you—?" Damian started, but his words were cut off as Grayson began to rub his feet, his touch firm but soothing.
Despite his initial reluctance, Damian found himself easing into the comforting sensation of Greyson’s hands working out the lingering discomfort in his feet. The older boy’s fingers moved with practiced ease, kneading away the residual tension and irritation. It was a strange kind of comfort, one that Damian hadn’t realized he needed until now.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between people who knew each other well. Damian’s sulkiness gradually melted away as the soothing motion of Grayson’s hands did their work. He let out a small sigh of contentment, his eyes drifting closed.
"Feeling better?" Dick asked softly, a small smile playing on his lips as he continued his ministrations.
Damian nodded, the tension in his body slowly dissipating. "Yeah… thanks," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dick chuckled, letting go of his feet and reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair, much to the younger boy’s annoyance. "You’re a tough kid, Damian. But you’ve got to learn to loosen up a bit."
Damian swatted Dick’s hand away, but there was no real malice in the gesture. "I don’t need to loosen up."
"Everyone needs to loosen up," Dick countered. "Even Batman cracks a smile every now and then."
Damian rolled his eyes, but Dick could tell that he was getting through to him, at least a little. He knew that Damian had a lot to prove—to himself, to their father, and to the world. But Dick also knew that Damian needed to find a balance between being the best and being able to enjoy life.
As the two brothers lay side by side on the floor, the remnants of their laughter still echoing in the room, Dick felt a sense of peace settle over him. No matter how much they sparred, both physically and verbally, there was a deep bond between them, one that couldn’t be broken by a simple rematch.
"Next time, I’m going to win," Damian said suddenly, his voice firm with resolve.
"Maybe you will," Dick replied, a smile playing on his lips. "But until then, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving."
Damian nodded, getting to his feet and offering a hand to help Dick up. "Fine. But don’t think this is over."
Dick took the offered hand, letting Damian pull him to his feet. "I wouldn’t dream of it," he said, clapping Damian on the back as they headed out of the gym together.
As they walked down the hallway, Dick couldn’t help but glance over at his little brother, a sense of pride welling up in his chest. Damian might be a handful, but he was also one of the most determined, capable, and brave kids Dick had ever known. And no matter how many rematches they had, that was something that would never change.
Dick groaned inwardly. Ever since their last sparring session five days ago, Damian had become fixated on one thing: beating him. It was no surprise, really. Damian Wayne was notorious for being a sore loser, but Dick knew that his little brother could be just as obnoxious a winner. It was a trait inherited from both their father’s relentless drive and Damian's own stubborn pride. The kid didn’t take losing lightly.
"You’re really not going to let this go, are you?" Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had been looking forward to a peaceful evening, maybe even catching up on some much-needed sleep. But it seemed Damian had other plans.
"Of course not," Damian replied, his eyes narrowing in challenge. "You cheated last time."
"Cheated?" Dick raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "I didn’t cheat, Damian. You just got outplayed."
Damian crossed his arms, his glare intensifying. "Outplayed? No. I let my guard down. That won’t happen again."
Dick knew better than to argue with Damian when he was in this mood. The kid could be as stubborn as a mule when he set his mind to something. Instead, Dick tried a different tactic. "Raven thought it was cute," he said casually, hoping to defuse the situation.
"Yeah?" Damian shot back, his voice rising in frustration. "Guess what she’s been doing ever since?"
Before Dick could respond, Damian pounced, grabbing him in a headlock. The move caught Dick off guard, and he stumbled back a step as Damian tightened his grip.
"Hey, easy there!" Dick protested, though there was a note of amusement in his voice. Damian could be fierce when he wanted to be, and Dick admired that about him. But this time, he wasn’t going to let Damian get the upper hand so easily.
Damian, however, was determined. With a swift movement, he drove his elbow into Dick’s gut, causing him to grunt in pain. "Still think it’s cute?" Damian growled, but his victory was short-lived.
Dick retaliated quickly, his fingers finding Damian’s right side. He pressed his fingers into Damian’s ribs, tickling him mercilessly. It was a move Dick knew would catch his brother off guard, and sure enough, Damian let out a squeal, his feet kicking the floor as he tried to escape.
"Grayson, you—" Damian started, but his words dissolved into laughter as Dick continued his tickle assault.
Damian was horribly aware of how one-sided this fight had been so far. No matter how hard he tried, Dick just kept getting the advantage on him. It was infuriating, especially since he knew that tickling was his weakness. As his abs began to squirm under Dick’s relentless touch, Damian looked around desperately, trying to think of something, anything, besides how much it all tickled.
Dick had his bare feet pressed down against Damian’s wrists to keep him still, but he wasn’t pressing down very hard. Most of his concentration was on keeping Damian laughing, his fingers dancing up and down Damian’s sides. But Damian was nothing if not resourceful.
With a determined look in his eyes, Damian reached out and began tickling Dick’s feet, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin. The move was unexpected, and Dick couldn’t help but laugh, his grip on Damian loosening just enough for Damian to make his move.
Damian took advantage of the momentary lapse in Dick’s focus. He twisted his body, trying to turn Dick over so that he was lying on his front. Damian knew that if he could get Dick in that position, he’d have the upper hand. But Dick wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.
Realizing the danger, Dick launched himself at his little brother, pinning him to the floor with a swift, practiced move. He straddled Damian, using his weight to keep him down, and then began spidering his fingers up and down Damian’s stomach, a grin spreading across his face.
Damian’s laughter filled the room, a sound that was both playful and rare. For all his seriousness, Damian was still just a kid, and in moments like these, it was easy to forget that he was also one of the deadliest fighters in the world. Dick smiled happily and mischievously as his fingers moved down to Damian’s feet, continuing the tickle attack with renewed energy.
"GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Dick’s laughter echoed through the gym as Damian, in a desperate move, managed to turn the tables on his older brother. His fingers found their way to Dick’s sides and belly, attacking with a precision that came from years of training and observation.
"EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE! AH! NOHOHOHOHO!" Dick hollered in laughter, trying to fend off Damian’s prodding fingers. But it was no use. Damian had the upper hand now, and he wasn’t about to let it go.
Damian smirked triumphantly. "I win this time, Grayson."
But Dick wasn’t ready to concede defeat. With a quick movement, he grabbed Damian’s other ankle, pulling him off balance. He proceeded to tickle both of Damian’s feet, his fingers moving deftly across the soles and arches. Damian squeaked and squirmed, laughing like a hyena as Dick tormented his feet with unrelenting precision.
"NAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAA!" Damian was helpless in laughter, tugging on his ankles as his toes curled and wiggled in rhythm with Dick’s tickling fingers. It was a sight that made Dick’s heart swell with affection for his little brother.
"Do you give in?" Dick teased, his fingers now targeting Damian’s toes. The fiery ninja laughed and yelped, struggling to pull himself out of the predicament, but his efforts were in vain.
Refusing to be beaten twice, Damian gathered his strength and lunged at Dick, hugging his ankles and sending him tumbling to the floor. Damian quickly pinned Dick down, trying to use his upper-body strength to drag himself toward the door, but Dick wasn’t done yet.
They rolled around on the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand, until finally, Dick ended up on top of Damian once more. Locking Damian’s legs with his own, Dick found himself in an unusual position—his feet were now tangled with Damian’s, and the unintentional footsie made both of them giggle.
"Hehehey!" Damian yelped, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Dick’s laughter filled the air.
Dick’s laughter mixed with Damian’s giggles as he continued to fiddle with Damian’s feet using his own. His toes lightly stroked the arches of Damian’s feet, and he couldn’t help but grin at the playful turn their sparring match had taken.
"EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE! AH! NOHOHOHOHO!" Damian’s laughter was becoming uncontrollable, and Dick knew that his little brother was nearing his breaking point.
"Just tap out!" Dick urged, though there was a part of him that enjoyed drawing out the moment. It wasn’t often that he got to see this side of Damian—the side that was just a kid, full of laughter and mischief.
"AOAOhAOHAOOKkooOKK! aOhAOhAHAOAAOYyYOOoUuUWWWIIIiINNN! AOHAOHAOHAHjjuUUSSSTTtSSTTOhOHPPP!" Damian finally yelled, the words barely escaping his mouth between fits of laughter.
Dick stopped immediately, rolling off of Damian and lying on his back beside him. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as he looked over at his little brother, who was now sulking.
"If I lose to you, will you forget about this whole wrestling business and return to normal?" Dick asked, his tone placatory.
Damian growled in response, still catching his breath. "If you lose on purpose, I’ll kick your ass, cut you up into tiny pieces, and feed you to the sandworms."
Dick couldn’t help but laugh at the threat. Typical Damian—always so dramatic. But there was no doubt in his mind that Damian meant every word.
"Okay, okay," Dick said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No losing on purpose. But seriously, Damian, you need to learn how to take a loss without making it a big deal."
"It is a big deal," Damian insisted, his voice still tinged with frustration. "I should be able to beat you."
"You’re not going to win every time," Dick reminded him gently. "And that’s okay. Losing doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you’ve got more to learn."
Damian scowled, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, his mind clearly racing as he processed what Dick had said. Dick could see the wheels turning in Damian’s head, the fierce determination that drove him to be the best at everything he did.
Without saying a word, Grayson gently pulled Damian’s feet toward him. "What are you—?" Damian started, but his words were cut off as Grayson began to rub his feet, his touch firm but soothing.
Despite his initial reluctance, Damian found himself easing into the comforting sensation of Greyson’s hands working out the lingering discomfort in his feet. The older boy’s fingers moved with practiced ease, kneading away the residual tension and irritation. It was a strange kind of comfort, one that Damian hadn’t realized he needed until now.
For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that only existed between people who knew each other well. Damian’s sulkiness gradually melted away as the soothing motion of Grayson’s hands did their work. He let out a small sigh of contentment, his eyes drifting closed.
"Feeling better?" Dick asked softly, a small smile playing on his lips as he continued his ministrations.
Damian nodded, the tension in his body slowly dissipating. "Yeah… thanks," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dick chuckled, letting go of his feet and reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair, much to the younger boy’s annoyance. "You’re a tough kid, Damian. But you’ve got to learn to loosen up a bit."
Damian swatted Dick’s hand away, but there was no real malice in the gesture. "I don’t need to loosen up."
"Everyone needs to loosen up," Dick countered. "Even Batman cracks a smile every now and then."
Damian rolled his eyes, but Dick could tell that he was getting through to him, at least a little. He knew that Damian had a lot to prove—to himself, to their father, and to the world. But Dick also knew that Damian needed to find a balance between being the best and being able to enjoy life.
As the two brothers lay side by side on the floor, the remnants of their laughter still echoing in the room, Dick felt a sense of peace settle over him. No matter how much they sparred, both physically and verbally, there was a deep bond between them, one that couldn’t be broken by a simple rematch.
"Next time, I’m going to win," Damian said suddenly, his voice firm with resolve.
"Maybe you will," Dick replied, a smile playing on his lips. "But until then, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving."
Damian nodded, getting to his feet and offering a hand to help Dick up. "Fine. But don’t think this is over."
Dick took the offered hand, letting Damian pull him to his feet. "I wouldn’t dream of it," he said, clapping Damian on the back as they headed out of the gym together.
As they walked down the hallway, Dick couldn’t help but glance over at his little brother, a sense of pride welling up in his chest. Damian might be a handful, but he was also one of the most determined, capable, and brave kids Dick had ever known. And no matter how many rematches they had, that was something that would never change.
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