The Batfamily never questioned it. Not really.

You had always been part of the team. The quiet one who always kept their face hidden behind a mask, a hood pulled low to cover your hair. You didn’t mind—they didn’t mind—so long as you were there when the job needed doing.

Your eyes, though. Your eyes were open. No hiding there. And they spoke more than any words ever could. But you rarely let those eyes linger. You kept your gaze focused, sharp, always thinking ahead.

You weren’t insecure. Not in the slightest. You just… preferred it this way. The anonymity. The distance. It made things simpler. No one saw you as the person beneath the mask. You were just you. The quiet one.

And it was enough.

You joked with them, teased them, even laughed with them during downtime. You knew how to be part of the team, even without giving them a glimpse of who you really were. You shared in the victories, the wins, and the losses—but the personal side of you stayed a mystery.

Dick tried. He was always the one to push, to ask, to make things personal. He’d joke about how you must have a gorgeous smile hidden beneath the mask or how they’d never see your face because it would break the myth of you being a superhero.

Jason would ask when you weren’t looking, half sarcastic, half curious. “What’s your name, huh? We’ve been through hell together. Come on, throw me a bone.”

Tim was more practical. “Do you even need a name when your skills speak for themselves?”

But no one pressed it too hard. They respected the space you gave them. The boundaries. They knew you were a part of their team, a reliable force in the shadows.

One night, You all were out on a mission gone terribly wrong, the team regrouped in the cave. There was a quiet tension in the air. Everyone was just recovering from the adrenaline, their minds still spinning.