Hidden Bruises

The Batfamily had seen you injured before—bruises, cuts, even broken ribs. It came with the job. But lately, something was off.

It wasn’t the injuries themselves; it was the way you carried them. The way you flinched when someone brushed against your arm. The way you insisted you were fine when it was obvious you weren’t. The way your patrols had become shorter, your excuses more frequent.

Tonight, after a mission gone slightly wrong, you returned to the Cave with a split lip and a limp. Nothing unusual. Except…

“You’ve been getting hurt a lot lately,” Dick noted, trying to sound casual, but his concern was obvious.

You shrugged. “Just bad luck.”

Tim frowned. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

Jason scoffed, pulling off his helmet. “You sure you’re not picking fights without us?” He was half-joking, but something in his tone was sharp—searching.

Cass watched you closely, reading every twitch of your muscles, every micro-expression.

Bruce said nothing at first, just studying you. Then, his voice—calm, unreadable—cut through the room.

“You’ve been distracted.”

You froze for half a second. Barely noticeable. But in this family, nothing went unnoticed.

Damian crossed his arms. “Tt. You are sloppy lately. If something is compromising your ability to fight, you should fix it.”

Mia nudged you lightly, smiling. “Maybe they’re just tired? We do have lives outside of this, you know.”

Stephanie smirked. “Yeah, maybe you’re sneaking off to spend time with your mystery partner.”

Duke chuckled. “That would explain why you disappear all the time.”

They were teasing, unaware of the truth.

You forced a smile, ignoring the tightness in your chest. “Something like that.”

They didn’t know.

And for now, you would keep it that way.