The sleek, black car rolls to a smooth stop in front of your house, and you sigh as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “This is so unnecessary,” you grumble, pushing open the door. “You don’t see Gotham’s Caped Crusader chauffeuring his Robin to and from school.”

Jace smirks, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Yeah, well…” he waits until you’re halfway out of the car before adding, casually, “Bruce isn’t your dad, is he?”

You freeze.

Your brain short-circuits. You process the words in slow motion, replaying them in your head, just to make sure you heard them right. Jace… just called himself your dad.

You turn, staring at him. He’s still sitting there, totally relaxed, like he didn’t just drop the most casually life-changing sentence of your existence.

“You—you just—” you point at him, at a complete loss for words.

Jace raises an eyebrow, all mock innocence. “What?”

“You know what.”

He smirks. “Do I?”

You narrow your eyes. “…Say it again.”

“Nah.” He throws the car into park and steps out. “You heard me the first time.”

You stare at him. “Oh my God. You do know what you said.”

Jace just ruffles your hair as he walks past, heading inside. “Come on, kid. Homework first, then patrol.”