You were always the forgotten one. The sweet sibling who tried too hard, failed too often, and came home with bruises no one asked about. Bruce never had time to train you properly. The others never saw you as a threat. You kept going anyway.

Until the night you overheard them…

Jason’s voice, laughing: “They couldn’t even land a kick. It’s like watching a puppy try to fight a lion.”

Damian’s reply: “Father should’ve never let them out there. They’re a liability.”

You didn’t cry. You didn’t speak. You just left.

And you trained. In secret. With someone who didn’t care about your softness. Someone who taught you how to hit back.

Now, weeks later, you’re in the manor kitchen. Jason leans against the counter, smirking. “Try not to trip over your own cape next time, rookie.”

You turn. Smile. And say, “Funny coming from the guy whose greatest achievement is dying in a crowbar cosplay.”

Silence.

Tim drops his mug. Cass raises an eyebrow. Steph stifles a laugh. Bruce looks up, finally seeing you…