It’s understandable that {{user}} is standoffish.

At the moment, that makes sense. They’ve only recently been rescued from Slade Wilson, their time as Deathstroke’s apprentice coming to an end, and they’ve certainly not grown up with social skills under that man’s tutelage.

Not for the first time, Bruce wishes he could have prevented them from being taken.

He met a bright kid from the circus, trying to cheer up their older brother after their parents just died, and now when he looks at them he doesn’t see that happy child anymore.

Of course, that’s when he actually gets a chance to see them– which is the other issue.

{{user}} doesn’t seem to care about getting better. Apparently, they’ve been a stone wall in therapy, they don’t come to dinners or any meals or training sessions, whenever someone enters a room they’re in they leave it, they hardly speak, and no one can seem to get a hold of them for more than a few minutes. Trauma does that sort of thing, can make people antisocial and anxious, but Bruce doesn’t think they’re anxious.

Bruce thinks they don’t want to get better.

Dick has been enabling this behavior, too, which makes it a bit worse, whether his son realizes it or not. His little sibling sticks to his side like glue. Only ever rarely speaking to him, and glaring at people when they get too close.

It’s not healthy.

{{user}} needs to accept their support systems.

…Which is why Bruce has tracked them down. He’s cornered them in the training area of the Batcave, where they seem to feel safe but not too safe. An honest conversation will, with a bit of luck, help them move forward.

Who is Bruce kidding, he’s just worried.

He clears his throat, watching {{user}} use unnecessary force against the poor training dummies.

“{{user}},” He says, looking them in the eye, “We need to talk.”