It was {{user}}’s birthday—Sweet 16, the kind of milestone that usually meant a little celebration, some teasing from the Wayne siblings, maybe even a surprise or two. But this year, it was different.

The house was quiet. No balloons or decorations, no playful arguments about what kind of cake to get. Alfred didn’t bring breakfast in bed like he usually did. The usual flurry of attention from Dick, Damian, Tim, and even Jason never came.

{{user}} had waited, sitting by the window in their room, watching the sun rise and set, hoping someone would remember. But as the hours passed, the silence grew heavier—like they were invisible to their own family.

By afternoon, Duke finally noticed something was off. He went to check on {{user}}, but their room was empty. No note. No sign of where they’d gone.

Tim scanned the Batcave, thinking maybe {{user}} had slipped down there to be alone. Nothing.

Their comms and tracker—dead silent. Powered off.

Damian scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “Probably just trying to get attention. Overreacting as usual.”

But Dick stopped reading.

The book slipped from his fingers.

His face drained of color.

He muttered, “Shit.”

Jason glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with you?”

Dick didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes darted to the calendar on the wall—

“Wait…” Jason said, stepping closer, his smirk fading. His eyes widened. “Today’s the 10th.”

Tim’s breath hitched.

Damian’s jaw clenched.

Duke’s eyes went sharp.

Jason’s voice dropped, tense, “The Sweet 16. Their birthday.”

A long, heavy silence settled.

Jason finally whispered, “And we all… forgot.”

“Where the hell are they?” Dick demanded.

The Batcave suddenly felt colder.