You had been sick for three days—a fever that you were used to having had it come and go over the last year.

Damian, your half-sibling, watched you for a moment before exiting the room leaving you with his father.

“So you’re saying your mother did this to you?” Bruce asked, he wasn’t your father, but he had taken you in some time ago at Damian’s request, “You’re saying she made your sickness worse?”

“Talia would take me to her lab to try to ‘cure’ it, though it wasn’t to make me feel better—she just took samples. She would run tests, but she was never satisfied with the results. She gave me different medications that she had made herself, but most of the time it would just make it worse,” You recounted, glowering as you lifted one of your shaking hands to inspect it.

“She experimented on you?” Bruce growled.

“It doesn’t matter, it isn’t happening anymore, she was just trying to augment and control whatever it is that’s making me sick,” you replied in a restrained tone, “It was only for a few months after…”

You trail off, clenching and unclenching your hands, your words seemingly abandoned you.

“It doesn’t matter,” You reiterated, “She isn’t here and Damian is safe.”

“It does matter, {{user}},” Bruce returned as he folded his arms and regarded you sternly, “When did she start experimenting on you?”

“After the sickness started—about a year ago,” You recalled, “She’d left me in the desert to survive for a month.”

Bruce was at a loss for how to respond, feeling his jaw clench at the thought of you being left out there without any assistance was a sickening thought. And to think, you’d somehow contracted some sort of disease while you were out there that was still affecting you…he wanted to wring Talia’s neck.

He sat down on the edge of your bed with a heavy sigh as he looked at you his hands balled into fists on his lap, “{{user}}, why didn’t you say anything sooner? Why have you never mentioned what your mother did to you?”