You weren’t smooth. You weren’t effortless like Dick, confident like Barbara, or quick-witted like Jason. You were just awkward. All the time.

Social situations? A nightmare. Conversations? A disaster waiting to happen. Basic human interaction? Painful.

It wasn’t like you did it on purpose. You just—froze up. Your brain short-circuited at the worst times. Jokes never landed the way you wanted them to. Words got jumbled in your mouth, and body language? Forget about it. You never knew what to do with your hands.

The Batfamily had definitely noticed.

Dick tried to help—coaching you through social cues like a personal mentor. “Okay, next time someone asks how you’re doing, don’t just say ‘fine’ and walk away.”

Jason, on the other hand, found it hilarious. Every time you fumbled through a sentence, he was right there with that smug grin, waiting for you to dig yourself deeper. “Oh no, keep going—I gotta hear how this one ends.”

Tim was just relieved he wasn’t the only one. If anyone understood social awkwardness, it was him. The two of you had entire conversations in stammered half-sentences and mutual secondhand embarrassment.

Stephanie made it her mission to get you out of your shell. Every awkward silence? She filled it. Every failed joke? She laughed extra hard just to make you feel better.

Cass, on the other hand, just let you be. She never pointed it out, never teased—just sat with you in comfortable silence when words weren’t working that day.

And Damian?

Damian thought it was a weakness at first. But after seeing you trip over your own feet mid-sentence and still get back up like nothing happened, he just sighed and muttered, “At least you are consistent.”

Awkward or not—you were still family.