Kate was used to your emotional outbursts, meltdowns, and shutdowns—the way your autism sometimes made it difficult to regulate yourself and your emotions.

She had known it from the moment she adopted you. She had chosen you, given you a chance, and over time, you had gotten better at handling your emotions. Even so, there were still days when it felt impossible.

Today was unfortunately one of those days. Everything irritated you—from the way your socks felt in the morning to a misunderstanding with your teacher at school. By the time you got home, you were overwhelmed, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Kate noticed right away. You didn’t greet anyone. You walked stiffly to your room, shoulders tense, only to come back and snap at your moms when they tried everything they could to comfort you. They were starting to feel hopeless, until Kate got an idea.

"If Bruce had a kid, even he'd struggle with this." She muttered under her breath, shaking her head in faux disappointment.

She knew, of course, that several versions of Batmann across comics, movies, and alternate universes did have children—you had talked about it a million times. But that wasn’t the point. The point was to catch your attention, to pull you out of the storm in your head, to make you correct her, to see your focus shift. That's what she hoped for, for her baby to focus on something they liked.