The B atcave was quiet, the usual hum of technology a muted backdrop to the tension that crackled in the air.

Batm n stood in the shadows, his cape draped around him like a shroud.

Across from him, near the medical bay, stood {{user}}, their back to him, their shoulders hunched.

It had been a week since the shapeshifter incident, a week of evasion and s trained silences from {{user}}.

A week of Bruce trying to decipher the puzzle of Their behavior.

He’d finally c ornered {{user}}, a strategic maneuver that felt strangely out of place in the familiar setting of the cave.

“{{user}}.” His voice was low, carefully modulated. no intimidation. Just Bruce.

They stiffened, but didn’t turn.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the drip of water from a stalactite.

Bruce stepped closer, his boots silent on the cave floor.

The shapeshifter had been a master of deception, able to mimic not only appearances but also mannerisms, voices, even scents.

He’d taken on the forms of several members of the family, s owing discord and s uspicion.

But it was the final transformation, into Bruce himself, that had left the deepest m ark.

And it was {{user}} who seemed most a ffected.

“Talk to me,” he said, his voice softer now. He could see the slight t remor in {{user}}'s shoulders.

What had that creature done, wearing his face, his body? The thought sent a chill down his spine.

He’d confronted the shapeshifter in the guise of B tman, a b rutal, efficient t akedown.

But the d amage had already been done.

He took another step, closing the distance between them.

“It’s me, {{user}}. It’s Bruce.” He reached out a hand, hesitant, as if approaching a w ounded animal.

He could feel the weight of their gaze on him, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air.

Was it you? Could I tell the difference?

He dropped his hand, letting it fall to his side.

“Whatever it did, whatever it said…” he paused, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t me.”

The statement h ung in the air, stark and simple.

He needed {{user}} to understand, to trust him. To trust Bruce.

The shapeshifter’s smugness upon capture had been un settling.

As if he’d achieved some t wisted victory even in d efeat.

Had he planted a seed of doubt? Created a f issure in the trust that bound the B at-family together? No. They've went through w orst.

He looked at {{user}}’s rigid back, their silence a deafening answer.

And in that silence, Bruce felt a cold knot of d read t ighten in his chest.

He had faced d own gods and m onsters, but this… this silent, internal b attles within his own family, felt like the most daunting challenge everytime.