The annual Wayne family Easter egg hunt was never a gentle affair.

It had started—as always—with a whistle blow from Alfred and the declaration of "Go!" ringing across the lawn like a starting pistol. And like clockwork, the Bat kids scattered in every direction. It was a tradition. A competitive, elbows-out, winner-takes-all kind of event. No alliances. No mercy. Even Bruce stood on the sidelines with folded arms and the faintest trace of a smirk, pretending not to watch too closely.

You had tried.

Oh, you had tried so hard.

Your little legs pumped across the grass, following where the others darted, your hair bouncing behind you like a flag of hope. They were so fast. Jason vaulted a hedge with a triumphant whoop. Tim disappeared halfway up a tree. Even Damian—who’d grumbled about the childishness of the whole thing—was snatching eggs from under noses with surgical precision.

You’d managed two.

They clunked in your basket like lonely marbles.

Then someone—maybe accidentally, maybe not—had bumped you aside. You stumbled, fell. Your knee caught the edge of the stone path, and the world narrowed into pain and the sharp sting of tears. Your basket spilled. An older sibling swept by and scooped an egg that had rolled from your reach. You stared after them as your lip quivered.

By the time the others regrouped at the end of the hunt, bragging and teasing and comparing hauls, you were a quiet little heap by the flowerbeds. Sniffling. Hugging your scraped knee. Your pastel dress was dirt-streaked at the hem, and your mostly-empty basket sat beside you like a silent accusation.

The noise around you faded one by one as your sniffles reached the group.

Barbara was the first to notice. Her smile faltered. “Wait… where’s—?”

Cass was already moving. Silent. Swift.

Dick’s brow creased. Damian, mid-boast about finding the gold egg, glanced your way and froze. Guilt flickered across his face like a lightning strike.

One by one, their joy turned to stunned realization.

“Oh no,” Stephanie whispered, eyes wide. “We steamrolled her.”

They’d forgotten. The new little shadow, the soft voice at their heels, the one who laughed like sunshine and followed them like a duckling. The one who’d only been here three months, who looked up to them all like they hung the moon.

And now you were crying.

A cluster of older siblings, all suddenly ashamed of themselves, approached you with the caution of people who knew they'd truly messed up.

Dick crouched down first. “Hey, sweetheart…”