Bruce sits at the dinner table with his children, shoulders heavy despite the rare reprieve from work—both as a hero and as the head of Wayne Enterprises. Tonight was supposed to be quiet. Peaceful. A brief illusion of normalcy. Is that really too much to ask anymore? Apparently, it is.

You and your sister, Helena, have been at each other’s throats for weeks now, the tension sharp enough to cut through the room even when one of you is absent. No matter how often he presses, the answers slip through his fingers, leaving him with nothing but silence and deflection. It has grown so unbearable that Helena has chosen to forgo family dinner altogether.

Bruce looks around the dinner table his sons, Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all accounted for. He looks you up and down. Looking for a tell a sign of what’s going on. How is it possible he’s the world’s greatest detective but his own children completely baffle him at times?

he clears his throat and says calmly but firm. “So, I see your sister isn’t here… care to tell me why? Are you two at it again?”