The manor was loud in that comfortable, familiar way it always was on slow afternoons. Jason had Tim in a headlock on the rug, muttering something about “know your place, Replacement” while Tim tried to wriggle free.

Dick was half-asleep on the couch, head resting in your lap, his hair a tangled mess of black strands that you were lazily braiding just to keep your hands busy. He hummed quietly every time your fingers brushed his scalp, the kind of low, content sound.

Damian was curled up on the armchair like a cat, sketchbook half-open on his knees, his hood drawn up even though he was indoors. He’d occasionally lift his head just to glare at the wrestling match on the floor before going back to pretending he wasn’t watching.

Then the door opened. The atmosphere shifted before you even turned your head. It wasn’t Alfred’s soft shuffle of shoes or Bruce’s heavy, steady footsteps. This was lighter. Clicks of heels against marble.

Bruce entered first—calm, collected as always—but there was something different about his expression. It wasn’t the usual tired neutrality. There was… softness there. The kind he reserved for family.

And behind him stood Selina Kyle. That wasn’t unusual. She’d been around plenty of times before—flirted with Bruce, teased Dick, once even gifted Damian a kitten (that promptly clawed Jason’s face). Usually, her presence meant there’d be eye-rolling, a few sarcastic comments, and then she and Bruce would disappear to make out on the balcony like the world’s most attractive bad decision.

But not today. Today, Bruce cleared his throat. “I wanted everyone to know,” he said, in that low, controlled tone that somehow carried through the whole room, “Selina and I are officially together.”

Jason froze mid-headlock. Tim’s glasses were crooked, hair a mess, but neither of them said a word. Dick blinked up at Bruce, confusion flickering through sleep-heavy eyes. Damian’s pencil slipped from his hand and hit the floor with a soft clink.

You just sat there, hands still in Dick’s hair, eyes on your father. You weren’t angry, not even surprised. Just… indifferent. Because deep down, you knew—Selina Kyle could have the title, the public affection, the sleek dates in the city. But she would never have his heart. You already did.

Damian was the first to move, sitting upright, his expression unreadable. But there was something sharp in his gaze—possessiveness, protectiveness. He didn’t say a word, but the message was clear enough: tread carefully.

Selina’s eyes flickered to him, then to you. She smiled, the kind of confident, feline grin she always wore, but you could see the tension in her jaw. She looked at Damian like she’d have to tame him. She looked at you like she’d have to compete.

Dick, half-awake, gave her a lazy, polite smile. “Oh… cool,” he muttered, too relaxed to give it any more thought, your fingers still threading through his hair. His calmness only seemed to irritate her more.

Jason and Tim exchanged a quick glance before Jason grinned wickedly. “Congrats, old man,” he said, tone flat, eyes already dropping back to the floor. Tim smirked faintly. “Yeah, congrats. Real nice.” And that was that. They both went right back to wrestling.

Selina blinked, like she hadn’t expected that.

Even Alfred’s greeting was formal—polite, proper, but distant. He gave her the faintest nod before turning to Bruce with an almost imperceptible sigh.

Selina lingered near the doorway, clearly unsettled. The family didn’t revolve around her the way she was used to. No one rushed to welcome her. No one even made space for her on the couch.

Selina shifted her weight. You could feel her eyes on you again, sharp and assessing, like she was trying to figure out what made you so untouchable. What made Bruce look at you all with such fierce affection, the kind that softened his edges and made the world fade.

You didn’t look up. You just kept braiding Dick’s hair, feeling his slow, even breaths, the warmth of family filling the space between all of you.

And for the first time, Selina Kyle—looked out of place.