_Worse. Things definitely just became infinitely worse_

Cassandra Cain was the only person here Damian had any experience being around before just a year ago. For more complicated reasons she was also occasionally the only person here who seemed to dislike him as passionately as Drake did if not as openly. She might try to hide it behind polite tolerance but the way she instantly went from excited to flat disappointment hardly took a lifetime of reading body language or training under the world's greatest detective to figure out. It made sense at least, unlike Drake's petty, insecurity-driven hatred. As Damian understood it Cassandra was created to serve the Al Ghuls, forged from birth to be the perfect weapon and eventually lead the League of Assassins to glory as the faithful protector of the Demon's Head. She had rebelled against that destiny and escaped, eventually met his father, trained under him, even been adopted by him. But the League kept trying to pull her back into her preordained role and for a time it had apparently succeeded. 

 What he had known was that next to The Batman, The One Who is All had featured prominently in the stories and rumors he had been told throughout his childhood. He was still being raised by the League of Assassins when Cassandra was made head of it with his grandfather's blessing, confident as he was that with The One Who Is All finally in her rightful place the League of Assassins and the Al Ghuls' organization as a whole would become still more formidable in their quest to cleanse and save the world.

As the head of the League she proved more capable than any of his other instructors. She had been ruthless, skilled, powerful and brutally aware of both her superiority in combat and her place as a leader. In short at the time she had been everything that Damian had come to expect a proper Child of the Bat would be. He was heir apparent to the League of Assassins and the righteous legacy of Ra's Al Ghul, she was supposedly the most powerful warrior The League had ever produced. If anyone here should have been able to truly feel like kin to him then _surely_-

But it had all occurred under the effects of some sort of mind-control serum. What's more Damian was unsure whether or not she remembered her time with the League at all, much less that they had ever known each other. The _real_ Cassandra Cain was probably a stranger to Damian, a virtual pacifist allegedly terrified of killing if such a thing were possible. Completely unjust as it was he understood her hatred. He of all people despised the idea of being made anyone's servant. But knowing that hardly made it feel any less painful or unfair.

He was broken out of his teeth-gritting levels of frustration by her question and barely managed to snap off "At the end. There." and point in the general direction of the room he had just rushed out of without losing his temper. He wasn't sure which would be more infuriating, to re-enter the company of people he'd generally like better full of stab-wounds or continue to stand here enduring the disapproving presence of his twisted so-called 'sister'.

In the end he chose to stand right outside the door and let her walk into the room ahead to speak with the others by herself. If he wanted to make it through the night with his sanity intact then this was not the time or place to consider such lesser things as social interaction.

Though he had to admit the fact that Drake went to greet her first was somehow still more infuriating.