Nerdy Talk

Issued by Bruce Wayne

Effective immediately. Read the entire list before anyone says, “I have an idea.”

After reviewing previous Fourth of July celebrations, insurance paperwork, and security footage that I wish I could erase from my memory, the following rules are in effect.

1. Everyone will still have ten fingers by Monday morning.

This is not a metaphor. It is not a suggestion. I will be counting.

2. If Alfred says something is a bad idea, it is a bad idea.

3. No fireworks may be modified, upgraded, optimized, or “made cooler.”

4. No testing explosive gel to “compare the colors.”

5. The Batmobile is not a fireworks launch platform.

This rule exists because of Jason.

6. The Batwing is also not a fireworks launch platform.

This rule exists because Dick immediately asked, “But what if we did it really carefully?”

7. Anyone heard saying, “Watch this,” immediately loses fireworks privileges.

8. Tim is prohibited from calculating the theoretical maximum altitude of commercial fireworks.

9. Damian is prohibited from attempting to cut fireworks out of the sky.

10. Sparklers are not swords.

11. Roman candles are not dueling equipment.

12. No attaching fireworks to drones.

Barbara has already confiscated three.

13. No rooftop parkour while carrying lit fireworks.

Looking at all of you.

14. If a firework lands on the manor roof, whoever launched it is repairing the roof.

15. If Duke says he can’t see because someone filled the yard with smoke, whoever did it owes him dessert.

16. Cass is not allowed to silently appear behind people holding lit sparklers.

It’s effective.

It’s also unnecessary.

17. Stephanie is prohibited from referring to Rule #1 as “The Finger Preservation Act.”

18. Jason may not justify breaking these rules with, “I’ve survived worse.”

19. Dick is not allowed to encourage bad ideas by saying, “You’ll be fine.”

20. If Clark visits, no one is to ask whether he can light fireworks with his heat vision.

He already proved he can.

21. The phrase “It’s only illegal if we get caught” is not an acceptable risk assessment.

22. The emergency room is not part of today’s plans.

23. If I hear the words “technically legal,” the answer is no.

24. If any member of this family somehow causes the police helicopter to respond, congratulations.

You’re explaining it.

25. Have fun.

I’d like this holiday to end with everyone present, uninjured, and not banned from purchasing fireworks next year.

⸻

Handwritten Additions

Dick: “He only mentioned me twice. Personal best.”

Jason: “Rule #5 is targeted harassment.”

Tim: “Rule #8 confirms Bruce also calculated the maximum altitude.”

Stephanie: “THE FINGER PRESERVATION ACT WILL PREVAIL.”

Cass: “🎆🙂”

Damian: “Father underestimates my precision.”

Duke: “I’m bringing sunglasses and ear protection.”

Barbara: “I’ve hidden the drone batteries.”

Alfred: “Master Bruce omitted one final rule: Anyone setting the lawn ablaze will be responsible for restoring it.”

* Jim has a standing rule: one daddy-daughter date every week, no exceptions unless Gotham is literally on fire. Even then, he’d probably reschedule it immediately.

* When Barbara is little, their dates are simple:

* Pancakes at a diner before school.

* Hot chocolate runs in the winter.

* Wandering through bookstores and letting her pick one new book every trip.

* Feeding ducks at the park while Jim pretends he’s not secretly enjoying it more than she is.

* As she gets older, the dates grow with her:

* Coffee shop afternoons where she tells him about school, friends, and whatever she’s obsessing over that month.

* Lunch dates where he insists on paying even after she gets her own money.

* Movie nights where he falls asleep halfway through and swears he was “just resting his eyes.”

* Fancy dinners once in a while where Barbara gets dressed up and Jim spends the entire evening looking proud of her.

* Jim keeps every ticket stub, receipt, and photo from their outings in a box he pretends doesn’t exist.

* Whenever Barbara talks, Jim gives her his full attention. Phone down. Newspaper folded. Nothing matters more than hearing what she has to say.

* He learns all her favorite coffee orders despite not understanding why anyone would want half the ingredients she puts in them.

* Barbara can always tell she’s loved because Jim remembers tiny details:

* Her favorite movie snacks.

* Which café makes her favorite muffins.

* The exact kind of flowers she likes.

When Barbara Gets Sick

* Jim becomes an absolute hovering disaster.

* The second she says she doesn’t feel well, he’s checking her temperature every thirty minutes.

* He calls the doctor for advice even when it’s just a cold.

* He shows up with:

* Soup.

* Crackers.

* Sports drinks.

* Enough medicine to stock a pharmacy.

* He sits beside her bed reading reports while secretly checking every few minutes to make sure she’s sleeping comfortably.

* If she falls asleep on the couch, he’ll carefully drape a blanket over her and lower the TV volume to almost nothing.

* He has a habit of touching her forehead to check for fever, even when she’s practically an adult.

* Barbara eventually learns that being sick means receiving a ridiculous amount of dad-level concern.

When Barbara Gets Her First Period

* Jim panics internally for approximately ten seconds.

* Then he immediately shifts into Problem Solving Dad Mode.

* He researches everything.

* He keeps supplies in multiple locations:

* The bathroom.

* His office.

* The car.

* An emergency stash in his desk at work.

* He never makes her feel embarrassed about it.

* If she has cramps, he shows up with heating pads, pain relievers, chocolate, and her favorite comfort food.

* He quietly learns which products she prefers and always keeps them stocked.

* If she’s having a rough day emotionally, he doesn’t try to “fix” her feelings. He just sits with her and lets her vent.

* He becomes surprisingly good at recognizing the warning signs and knows exactly when to offer tea and snacks without saying a word.

Hair Dad Gordon

* When Barbara is little, Jim has absolutely no clue how hair works.

* His first attempts are catastrophic.

* Crooked ponytails.

* Uneven braids.

* Hair ties tangled beyond comprehension.

* Instead of giving up, he learns.

* He watches tutorials.

* He asks other parents for advice.

* He practices.

* Eventually he becomes surprisingly competent.

* Barbara will be sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast while Jim carefully braids her hair before school.

* He keeps spare brushes and hair ties everywhere because he’s learned the hard way.

* If she falls asleep during a long movie, he’ll gently untangle knots from her hair so it doesn’t hurt later.

Protective Dad Moments

* Jim trusts Barbara, but he absolutely terrifies anyone who hurts her.

* Not by threatening them.

* By giving them the calmest, most disappointed look imaginable.

* Somehow that’s worse.

* If Barbara calls at 2 a.m. needing a ride, Jim is already grabbing his keys before she finishes explaining.

* She never has to wonder whether she’ll have support. The answer is always yes.

Adult Barbara

* Even when she’s grown, the weekly dates never stop.

* Sometimes it’s coffee.

* Sometimes dinner.

* Sometimes they’re just walking around the city talking.

* They spend half the time teasing each other.

* Jim still insists on paying.

* Barbara still rolls her eyes.

* Neither of them would trade those evenings for anything.

The Batkids all react differently.

* Dick Grayson turns the entire outing into a cannonball competition within three minutes.

* Jason Todd pretends he’s too cool to swim, then starts a splash war that gets everyone soaked.

* Tim Drake brings waterproof flashcards because apparently relaxing is a skill he never learned.

* Damian Wayne arrives wearing professional swim goggles and treats the pool like an Olympic qualifying event.

* Cassandra Cain spends half the day underwater because the silence is nice.

* Stephanie Brown immediately convinces everyone to play the most chaotic game imaginable.

* Barbara Gordon somehow ends up acting as referee despite never volunteering.

Alfred sits beneath an umbrella with a book and a thermos of tea, looking like a retired aristocrat who accidentally became responsible for Gotham’s most dangerous youth program.

Every so often one of the kids asks:

“Does Bruce know we’re here?”

And Alfred, without looking up from his book, replies:

“Master Bruce believes I am ensuring your safety.”

A beat passes.

Jason is currently trying to convince Damian to race across the pool while wearing inflatable arm floaties.

Alfred turns a page.

“Technically, I am.”

The secret truth is that Alfred schedules these outings on purpose. He knows the kids spend enough time on rooftops, in caves, and getting thrown through walls by supervillains. For one afternoon, they’re allowed to be children instead of vigilantes.

Bruce comes home after a brutal mission expecting reports and tactical updates.

Instead, he finds seven exhausted kids asleep around the manor, sunburned noses, damp towels everywhere, and a refrigerator covered in photos of Damian looking furious because Dick beat him in a swimming race.

Alfred hands Bruce a cup of tea.

“A successful operation, sir.”

Bruce studies the evidence of absolute chaos.

“…How many incidents?”

“Only three required first aid.”

Bruce closes his eyes.

“Three?”

* Bruce does not simply unleash eight vigilantes into a pool and hope for the best. He arrives with sunscreen, extra towels, a first aid kit, electrolyte packets, and enough snacks to sustain a small athletic conference.

* He makes everyone put on sunscreen.

* Every. Single. One.

* Jason tries to argue.

* Bruce silently holds out the bottle.

* Jason puts on the sunscreen.

⸻

* Dick is in the water within three seconds of arrival.

* Nobody actually sees him enter the pool.

* One moment he’s standing beside the chairs.

* The next he’s somehow performing a perfect dive.

* Bruce doesn’t even look up from unpacking the cooler.

* “Good entry.”

* Dick immediately looks delighted because Bruce noticed.

⸻

* Tim insists he’s “just relaxing.”

* Five minutes later Bruce confiscates three phones, a tablet, and a waterproof e-reader.

* Tim somehow produces a fourth device.

* Bruce doesn’t ask where it came from.

* Bruce simply holds out his hand.

* Tim sighs and surrenders it.

⸻

* Damian takes swimming very seriously.

* Swimming is a discipline.

* An art.

* A test of physical excellence.

* Steph splashes him.

* Damian declares war.

⸻

* Cass is terrifyingly good in the water.

* Nobody knows why.

* She just moves through the pool like gravity forgot about her.

* Bruce watches her do an impossible underwater turn and quietly smiles because she’s having fun.

⸻

* Steph’s primary objective is not swimming.

* It is causing problems.

* She convinces Duke and Dick to help her build increasingly elaborate pool games.

* Bruce allows it because they’re all laughing and nobody is in danger.

* Yet.

⸻

* Duke spends most of the afternoon soaking up sunlight like a very happy solar panel.

* Bruce packed his favorite sports drink without being asked.

* Duke notices.

* Bruce pretends he didn’t deliberately remember.

⸻

* Jason claims he hates pool days.

* Jason spends four consecutive hours in the pool.

* Bruce hands him a drink the second he climbs out.

* Jason takes it automatically.

* Neither of them comments on it.

⸻

* Bruce actually gets in the water.

* This shocks everyone.

* Bruce is a surprisingly strong swimmer.

* Of course he is.

* There is absolutely no reason for him to be this good at swimming.

* Yet here they are.

⸻

* At some point somebody challenges Bruce to a race.

* Usually Dick.

* Sometimes Jason.

* Once Steph.

* Bruce wins exactly often enough to remind them he’s Batman.

* Then loses on purpose often enough to let them celebrate.

⸻

* He keeps track of everyone without making it obvious.

* He knows who’s hydrated.

* He knows who’s getting tired.

* He knows who skipped lunch.

* He knows who has been underwater suspiciously long.

* Tim discovers this and calls it “parental omniscience.”

* Bruce calls it “paying attention.”

⸻

* When Damian and Jason start arguing, Bruce redirects them into a relay race.

* Somehow this works.

* Nobody understands why it works.

* Not even Bruce.

* But it does.

⸻

* Near sunset, everyone is exhausted.

* Towels everywhere.

* Wet footprints everywhere.

* Half the snacks gone.

* Steph is still talking.

* Dick is floating on his back.

* Cass is smiling.

* Tim is finally not looking at a screen.

* Damian is pretending he isn’t having fun.

* Jason is pretending he doesn’t want another pool day.

* Duke is glowing with contentment.

* Bruce looks around at the chaos and feels that rare, quiet certainty that all of his kids are safe, happy, and together.

* Tim insists the room is “organized.” This statement becomes less convincing when a coffee mug disappears for three weeks and reappears on top of a bookshelf.

* The cleaning process begins because someone finally threatens consequences. Usually Dick. Occasionally Alfred. Once, Bruce walked into the room, stared silently for ten seconds, and walked back out. That was somehow worse.

* Tim starts cleaning by making three piles:

* Important

* Very Important

* Important But Mysteriously Sticky

* Halfway through, he finds something he lost six months ago and immediately gets distracted for an hour.

*They lost Cass in there for six hours, she has never been the same.

* There are enough energy drink cans hidden throughout the room to construct a small defensive barricade.

* Every surface contains evidence of at least three separate investigations.

* He discovers:

* Two missing hard drives

* Seven notebooks

* A batarang he thought was stolen

* A hoodie he forgot existed

* An entire meal he chooses not to identify

* Cleaning becomes a horror story when he reaches beneath the bed. Even Tim, veteran detective and vigilante, pauses before looking under there.

* The dust bunnies have developed territory and a clear chain of command.

* Jason walks in, takes one look around, and says, “This is how haunted houses get started.”

* Damian openly gags and starts listing diseases Tim is probably incubating.

* Dick tries to help but spends most of the time laughing at what Tim finds.

* The room briefly looks worse because Tim pulls everything into the open at once. For several hours it resembles the aftermath of an archaeological dig.

* Alfred appears at the doorway, surveys the devastation, and quietly leaves without comment. Tim experiences genuine fear.

* By midnight the room is actually clean.

* By 2 a.m. there are already new stacks of papers forming.

* By the end of the week, the room has somehow returned to 80% of its original chaos.

* Tim remains convinced this is a perfectly sustainable system.

High School Zone

Tim Drake

Tim Drake

Tim is the student every teacher praises while simultaneously asking:

“Are you sleeping enough?”

He is not.

His backpack contains:

* six pens

* two chargers

* advanced calculators

* energy drinks with warning labels

* a laptop covered in forensic-level organization

He’s in:

* AP classes

* debate club

* robotics

* probably three extracurriculars nobody else has heard of

Tim studies like Gotham’s fate depends on his GPA.

At 1:47 AM he’s:

* finishing calculus homework

* monitoring police scanners

* researching obscure chemistry topics

* forgetting food exists

His classmates think he’s either:

* a genius

* a cryptid

* both

⸻

Stephanie Brown

Stephanie Brown

Stephanie treats high school like a high-speed social experiment.

She:

* knows everybody’s business

* somehow survives on zero sleep

* decorates notes with stars and doodles

* can go from failing a quiz to leading a pep rally in under ten minutes

Teachers either adore her or develop stress headaches.

⸻

Duke Thomas

Duke Thomas

Duke remains the only functional person in the building.

He:

* remembers assignments

* participates normally

* speaks to teachers like a civilized human being

An astonishing achievement in this family.

He’s the student guidance counselors point at as proof hope still exists.

⸻

Damian Wayne

Damian Wayne

Middle school Damian behaves like he was sent to school as part of a diplomatic punishment.

He critiques lesson plans openly.

Group projects become tactical operations.

Other students fear him right until:

* he answers every science question correctly

* rescues the class pet

* brutally destroys everyone at chess club

His teachers write emails beginning with:

“Damian is extremely intelligent, however…”

Those emails are always very long.

⸻

The Batfamily School Supply Trip

Bruce is sick can send’s Dick shopping with the kids. Dick attempts one unified back-to-school shopping expedition.

Immediate collapse.

Events include:

* Dick wandering off and returning with snacks instead of notebooks

* Jason arguing about textbook price inflation

* Tim comparison-shopping laptops like he’s selecting NASA equipment

* Steph throwing glitter pens into the cart at random

* Damian rejecting “inferior mechanical pencils”

* Duke quietly preventing actual disaster

Now I’m kind of going down an Andy Weir rabbit hole. I’m currently reading Project Hail Mary and I’m loving it. I just bought The Martian, which I’m planning to read next.

If anyone is into his books, I’d actually love to hear your thoughts. What’s your favorite Andy Weir book, or even one you didn’t enjoy as much? I’m curious about different opinions because I don’t really have anyone to talk about this with.

No one knows when it started. No one knows who started it. Bruce has stopped asking questions.

It begins harmlessly enough.

“Hey B, do you know what day it is?”

Dick says it like he’s trying very hard not to laugh.

Bruce, without looking up from the Batcomputer:

“March fifteenth.”

There is a pause.

Then Tim, from somewhere in the cave:

“Beware the Ides of March.”

Bruce sighs.

He knows.

He just doesn’t know who’s Caesar this year.

Last year it was Jason, which was a mistake because he refused to die and dramatically came back to life three separate times.

The year before that it was Tim, who insisted on historical accuracy and tried to deliver a full speech about the Roman Senate before Damian stabbed him with a foam sword halfway through.

Damian, for the record, believes he should always be Brutus because he has “the proper dramatic instincts.”

Cass refuses to stab anyone but happily provides the dramatic music by aggressively playing something ominous on Bruce’s piano.

Steph changes the script every single year.

Duke is usually the only one actually following the plot.

And Dick?

Dick commits fully.

Toga. Accent. Death monologue. Collapsing onto the cave floor like he’s on Broadway.

Bruce once walked in to see Dick dramatically clutching his chest while yelling

“Et tu, Brute?”

as Jason and Steph repeatedly poked him with pool noodles.

Bruce left the cave.

He came back twenty minutes later with takeout.

Because if the Batfamily is going to commit a historical murder in his cave, the least he can do is make sure they eat dinner first.

Alfred, of course, records the entire thing.

He labels the video files:

1. Nobody wanders off alone.

“Seriously. I’m not chasing you through the woods again. Henderson, that includes you.”

2. If something looks weird, you tell me first.

“No touching the creepy goo, no opening mysterious doors, no ‘let’s investigate.’ I’m talking to you, Sinclair.”

3. Eat something before we do anything stupid.

Steve always has snacks in the car.

“Here. Eat the granola bar, Wheeler. You get cranky when you’re hungry.”

4. Powers = emergency only.

He always looks at Eleven when he says it.

“Kid, if your nose starts bleeding again we’re done, alright?”

5. The bat is not a toy.

“Max, I see you looking at it. Don’t.”

6. If you’re hurt, you say something.

He’s usually looking at Will Byers when he says that one.

“No tough-guy act. Just tell me.”

7. No making fun of Henderson’s science stuff.

“Yeah, I don’t understand half of it either, but it keeps saving our lives so just let the kid talk.”

8. Curfew still exists.

“I swear if Hopper finds out I let you all run around Hawkins at midnight, I’m the one getting yelled at.”

9. Everyone sticks together.

“I’m serious. I turn around and half of you disappear. Not doing that again.”

10. And if we survive whatever dumb thing you guys got us into…

“We’re getting burgers. My treat.”

The funny part is the kids still complain:

• Dustin Henderson argues with him constantly

• Mike Wheeler rolls his eyes

• Lucas Sinclair pretends Steve’s overreacting

• Max Mayfield teases him

…but they still end up listening, mostly because Steve is already halfway grabbing his keys and saying something like:

I’m currently obsessed with the concept of Hopper adopting Steve, but I’m having trouble actually finding any. Not because they don’t exist — I know they’re out there — I just keep having to go to work and don’t have time to dig through tags.

• Steve keeps emergency snacks in his car at all times. Granola bars, juice boxes, fruit snacks… the trunk basically looks like a traveling daycare. If one of the kids says they’re hungry, he immediately appears with food.

• He absolutely makes everyone wear jackets. If they say they’re not cold he still brings one “just in case.” By the end of the night, someone is always wearing the extra jacket.

• Steve drives everyone everywhere in his beat-up car and complains the entire time… but if someone else offers to drive he gets weirdly defensive.

“No, I got it. Everyone buckle up.”

• He keeps a mental attendance list. If the kids scatter he starts counting them like a stressed parent.

“Where’s Dustin? We had five nerds. I counted five nerds.”

• Steve brings a first aid kit after realizing the kids somehow get injured every single week.

• He calls everyone “idiots” but is secretly the most protective person in the group.

• If one of them gets hurt he goes full panic mode while trying to act calm.

“Okay it’s fine. Totally fine. Is that… a lot of blood??”

• He learns all their favorite music even though half of it annoys him.

• He absolutely lectures them about safety like a parent.

“You can’t just bike into the woods at night! That’s how you die!”

• He pretends he hates being the babysitter, but if one of the kids calls him instead of someone else he shows up immediately.

• The kids eventually start introducing him as their mom just to annoy him.

Dustin does it the most.

• And despite all the complaining, everyone knows if something goes wrong Steve is the first person who will show up.

Basically:

It was not.

⸻

The moment they walked inside, the blue glow of the tanks reflecting off the walls, Damian went completely still.

Fish.

Actual fish.

Not the sad, tiny tanks people kept at home—real reef tanks, glowing coral, schools of silver bodies flashing through the water.

He stepped closer to the glass, hands clasped behind his back, watching a clownfish weave carefully through its anemone.

Dick leaned beside him.

“You look like you’re studying for a biology exam.”

“It is protecting its home,” Damian said quietly.

Dick blinked. “…yeah. That’s what clownfish do.”

Damian nodded with the seriousness of someone witnessing something deeply important.

⸻

Across the room, chaos had already begun.

Jason was halfway inside the shark tunnel, staring up through the curved glass.

A huge shark drifted overhead.

He grinned.

“Look at that thing.”

Steph leaned next to him. “That thing would absolutely eat you.”

“I would fight it.”

Tim snorted. “You would die.”

Jason crossed his arms. “You don’t know that.”

⸻

Meanwhile, Bruce had already lost track of two of them.

He stood near the entrance with that familiar tired look.

Alfred stood beside him, calm as ever.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred said gently, “perhaps they are simply exploring.”

From somewhere down the hall:

“TIM STOP TOUCHING THE EEL—”

Bruce closed his eyes.

⸻

At the stingray pool, Damian listened carefully while an employee explained how to touch them.

“Two fingers,” the employee said. “Very gentle.”

Damian nodded seriously.

A stingray glided past the edge of the tank.

He reached down and brushed the top of it softly.

It slipped through the water like silk.

His expression changed immediately.

“They are… very smooth.”

Dick leaned over the tank.

“Oh my god you’re bonding with the stingrays.”

Damian shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

“Do not ruin this moment.”

⸻

At the jellyfish exhibit, Cass stood silently in the dark blue glow.

The jellyfish drifted slowly, their tentacles trailing like glowing threads.

Barbara joined her.

“They’re peaceful,” she said.

Cass nodded.

“Quiet.”

Behind them, Jason appeared and stared at the tank.

“They look like floating brains.”

Barbara elbowed him.

⸻

Eventually everyone ended up at the penguin enclosure.

The birds waddled along the rocks before diving into the water like tiny missiles.

Steph laughed when one slipped on the ice.

Tim leaned against the railing watching them swim.

Jason pointed at a particularly round one.

“That guy runs the place.”

Damian studied the group carefully.

“No,” he said firmly.

He pointed to a taller penguin standing near the edge.

“That one is the leader.”

Tim frowned. “You cannot possibly know that.”

Damian crossed his arms.

“I absolutely can.”

⸻

Bruce stood behind them, watching all of them argue about penguin politics.

For once there were no injuries.

No crime alerts.

Just kids arguing over penguins.

Alfred adjusted his gloves slightly.

“A pleasant family outing, I would say.”

Bruce watched Damian crouch near the glass as a penguin swam past.

“…Yes,” he said quietly.

I can’t stop thinking about his name.

Not Robin.

Not the costume.

Not the headlines.

His name.

Jason Peter Todd.

I keep writing it because if I don’t, it feels like he’ll fade into some story Gotham tells about a dead sidekick. Like he’ll stop being the kid who used to sit at the kitchen counter arguing with Alfred about pancakes.

Jason Peter Todd.

My little brother.

And I didn’t even know they buried him.

That part keeps hitting me at the worst times. I’ll be walking through the cave or sitting in the manor and suddenly it crashes into me again — the funeral already happened.

They lowered my brother into the ground and I wasn’t there.

Bruce Wayne didn’t tell me.

I don’t know why.

Maybe he couldn’t say it out loud. Maybe if he told me Jason was dead it would become too real. Maybe he thought I’d look at him and see the truth — that we both failed him.

But it still feels like something inside my chest cracked open when I found out.

Jason was my brother too.

Not just the kid who took over the suit. Not just another Robin.

Mine.

He used to follow me around the cave when he first got here.

God, he was so annoying.

Always asking questions.

“Why do you flip like that?”

“How do you land without breaking your knees?”

“Did Batman actually train you on rooftops or is that just something he says?”

I used to groan and tell him to figure it out himself.

I thought there would always be time.

Another patrol.

Another training session.

Another chance to tell him he was getting better.

But the last time I saw him we argued.

Not even a big fight.

Just the kind of stupid brother argument you forget about five minutes later.

He was being reckless on patrol again. I grabbed his shoulder and told him to stop trying so hard to prove something.

He got this look on his face.

Like I’d just told him he wasn’t good enough.

He shrugged me off and muttered something sarcastic — I don’t even remember what now.

Then he walked away.

And that’s the last real conversation I had with my little brother.

Sometimes I lie awake wondering if that’s the last thing he remembered about me.

Disappointment.

The story of what happened keeps replaying in my head even though I wasn’t there.

Jason chasing a lead.

Trying to do the right thing.

Trying to be brave.

And then the Joker.

A crowbar.

Blow after blow after blow.

Jason Peter Todd was fifteen years old and someone beat him like that while he was alone.

I keep imagining him trying to get up.

Trying to fight back.

Trying to prove he was strong enough.

And then the bomb.

Bruce got there too late.

And I wasn’t there at all.

That thought eats at me in a way I don’t know how to explain.

Jason learned how to fight because of me.

He watched me move. Copied my style. Asked questions about patrol and tactics and everything else.

I was supposed to look out for him.

That’s what older brothers do.

But when he needed someone to save him…

I wasn’t even in the city.

The manor is unbearable now.

It’s too quiet.

Jason used to fill every hallway with noise. Slamming doors, arguing with Bruce, blasting music Alfred pretended to hate.

Now every room feels hollow.

Bruce spends hours in the cave staring at Jason’s suit.

He stands there so long sometimes I wonder if he forgets how to move.

I watched him once when he thought nobody was around.

He put his hand against the glass where Jason’s chest would be.

Like he was checking for a heartbeat.

Then he whispered Jason’s name.

Just once.

But it sounded like it hurt him to say it.

Bruce blames himself.

You can see it in the way he carries his shoulders now, like there’s a weight on them that never lifts.

But he isn’t the only one who failed Jason.

I did too.

Because when my little brother was alone in that warehouse — bleeding, hurting, probably still trying to get up — I wasn’t there to help him.

And now there’s a grave somewhere in Gotham with his name carved into it.

Jason Peter Todd.

My little brother.