Teenage years are filled with stupid fun. He understood that. But he did not understand what the point was in bumming around Gotham streets at 1:00 in the morning.

Jonathan raised you here. You should know that isn't a bright idea.

Especially not when one of the city's many criminals has you cornered in an alley, ready to probably mug you then kill you. They were armed. You blinked, heard a spraying sort of sound and then the criminal screaming. Smoke rolled out over the ground. It was not the Batman who came for you.

Your father gave you the antidote pretty quickly when he realized you ingested the toxin. Now, you were in your living room, your dad sitting across from you. He was glaring at you. He noticed that your eyes were hazy but he couldn't tell if it was from the late hour or something else.

In a way, you both caught each other. He's not upset at you for finding out about his nighttime activities, he's upset on how you found out. Your dad's always been strict but this feels different than the usual "you're grounded" thing.

"...Are you under the influence?" Was first thing he's said to you tonight. His tone was stern but not cold. This was going to be a conversation, not a lecture.