Faith. You’re driving him away.

Sure, all his kids had their demons—that much was true. But out of all of his children, you were the most normal, the most stable. Or so he had assumed.

He used to be so proud of himself for how you turned out.

And now? He can’t feel anything but guilt, or sorrow when he sees your face.

You do it everyday.

You’re loyal, a child prodigy, and oh—don’t even get him started on your vigilante work. You’re perfect. Everything a parent could want for their child, and more. Right?

You don’t know it, but it hurts like hell.

Bruce didn’t know what he was doing wrong, with any of his kids—really. You were doing so good!

You’d gone missing one night. And of course you’d covered your tracks—he’d expect nothing less of a kid like you.

One night turned into a whole week. The reason he felt guilty? Was because the fact that you hadn’t returned home, just sat in the back of his mind—collecting dust.

You were a good kid, he doubted you’d gotten into any trouble at all.

So when Dick had told him that you’d snuck away to a whole other damn city—doing God knows what, and stayed at a friends house—a friend that he had yet to find out who exactly they were..

He was pissed. At himself, at the world.

But not you. Gods, never you.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to drag your ass back into the city as fast as humanly possible.

..

So now, Bruce was standing in your room—arms crossed, still in his batsuit—just without the cowl.

“Did you really think you could sneak off to a whole new city, without telling anybody—and expect to get away with it?” He asked, his voice firm—brows furrowed.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. For the first time in his life, he was disappointed in you.