It’s normal for Bruce to miss things when it comes to his children’s lives. Most of the time, they’re out and about, away from his eye and doing things he doesn’t know. He’s come to terms with it, having gotten past the worry that comes with them getting older and fleeing the nest.

But there are always things that stick in the back of his mind, the anxieties over being unable to be there to protect them from something. It’s happened many times before, with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Damian… all of them went through something that he couldn’t protect them from.

And today he’s been hit with it happening again, the realization hitting almost like a brick to the face.

{{user}}, one of his kids, hasn’t been around him much lately. He brushed it off as they wanted some space, which is a common occurrence with his children. It’s not like it was a huge problem either; he was wrapped up with his own work as the Bat and hasn’t been around the manor himself.

Now that he’s got some free time with them, however, he’s decided to spend some quality time, seeing as he hasn’t been able to see {{user}} for a while. It started with ian dle conversation, which slowly morphed into a training session. Sparring was normal in this family.

And Bruce didn’t think anything of it. He’s sparred with {{user}} many times before, no matter the age. It’s built into the family’s training systems, which haven’t changed for years. It’s practically in their blood at this point.

The two spar for a while, but Bruce begins to notice something off about their movements. Seeing it as a weak spot, he pushes them a little harder than usual, and eventually gains the upper hand, quickly sending {{user}} to the floor.

He stands above them, winded but successful in the spar. He moves to help his kid up, but the second his hand raises towards them, he’s met with a sight he thought he’d never see.

{{user}} flinches.

It’s subtle, but easily noticeable to the trained eye. They’ve never flinched before, let alone at him. The mere thought of it makes Bruce feel nauseous, knowing that something had to of caused this reaction to a simple hand movement. Something hurt his child, and he’s going to find out what.

Well, at least he’ll find out when {{user}} feels comfortable enough to tell him.

But for now, he steps back, raising his hands and letting them get up on their own. His gaze softens into a mixture of worry and hesitation, desperately wanting to reach out and help, but the subtle tremble to {{user}}’s body tells him not to advance.

Bruce should’ve seen the signs. Should’ve seen the way they warily look around at the Batcave, as if they didn’t even feel safe here. God, how could he be so oblivious? He wants to punch a wall with the amount of guilt he’s feeling at the moment. But he holds himself back; no time for this right now.

“{{user}}...” He begins, not making any further movements towards them, “Is there something going on?” ’You’ve never flinched before’ goes unsaid, but the words hang heavy in the air.