Terry McGinnis, seventeen, slammed the apartment door softly behind him, trying not to wake anyone. He was exhausted—his shoulders tight, his jaw set in that familiar mix of frustration and determination. Another night chasing down Jokerz, another lecture from Bruce, another set of bruises he’d pretend came from “skate trouble.”

He didn’t notice that Matt McGinnis, ten, was still awake.

Matt sat at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal, pretending not to stare. He’d been watching Terry for weeks—counting the late nights, the vanished excuses, the “accidental” injuries that didn’t match any normal teenage life. Matt wasn’t dumb. If anything, he was too curious for his own good.

“Where were you?” Matt asked casually, kicking his legs beneath the chair. His tone matched the Matt from the show—a little nosy, a little bratty, but sharp as a tack.

Terry ruffled his hair, distracted. “Out. Go to bed.”

“Uh-huh.” Matt didn’t move. His eyes locked on Terry’s backpack—the one he always guarded like it held pure gold. “You always say that.”

Terry sighed, that classic irritated-but-soft big brother attitude surfacing. “Matt, not now. I’m beat.”

But something in Matt’s face—determined, calculating—made Terry pause.

Because while Terry tried to push past him to his room, Matt darted forward, snatching at the half-open zipper of Terry’s bag. Before Terry could react, something black and metallic slipped out and clattered to the floor.

The Bat-suit’s gauntlet.

Both brothers froze.

The room went silent except for the hum of the fridge.

Matt’s eyes went huge. “T-Terry… is that—? You’re…”

Terry grabbed the gauntlet quickly, but the damage was done. He saw the realization hit Matt like a shockwave—awe, excitement, absolute betrayal, all at once.

“You’re Batman,” Matt whispered, voice shaking with equal parts amazement and irritation. “You’ve been Batman this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Me?!”

Terry groaned, rubbing his face. “Matt… it’s complicated.”