You smell of love.

✿⁠ ⸺ Chapters Guide! ; Prologue ; Chapter I, Prt 1 ; Chapter I, Prt 2 ; Chapter I, Ptr 3 ; Chapter II ; Chapter III ; Chapter IV, Prt 1 ;

✿⁠ ⸺ Previous ; Next!

⸺ WARNINGS ⦂ Fem Reader ; BatFamily acting like idiots ; mention of sexual abuse ; detachment of a body part ; use of Y/N ; English is not my first language.

✿⁠ ⸺ MDNI !! I'm serious.

✿⁠ ⸺ Words Count ⦂ 7.109

✿⁠ ⸺ N/A ⦂ This chapter was mainly translated by Google Translate, so if something doesn’t make sense, you know who to blame.

Edit: Sorry At the time of publishing this I didn't realize that there were a few parts in Spanish 😓

The orphanage caregivers tried to wake you up, but when you uncurled from your previous fetal position, they noticed the horrible bruises on your face and body, your clothes tattered beyond recognition. They were horrified to see your left leg swollen and covered in green, yellow, and purple splotches—especially purple.

After the initial shock, they quickly called the GCPD and an ambulance. Carefully, they attempted to lift you, but it seemed you were on the verge of regaining consciousness.

“Mom… Mom…?”

The carer carrying you felt his heart break at the sight of your lost gaze searching for your mother. Your voice was obviously hoarse, clear signs that you had strained it for hours with your screams and cries. How long had you been sitting there crying? How did they not notice?

Poor you, you looked so fragile, and you definitely weighed less than what was healthy for your age. He had seen many cases of neglect and abuse, but this was undoubtedly the worst he had witnessed in his years of service here. Your skin was several shades paler than it should have been, making you look almost dead. There were scars all over your body, from bites, tied joints, and carefully made incisions…

He didn’t want to know what hell you had been trapped in for so long.

With the sleep finally fading from your body, you had enough awareness to realize someone was carrying you to an unknown place, and you panicked. You struggled in their arms so energetically and forcefully that the carer had to juggle to keep from dropping you.

He understood your reluctance to be carried, and with help, he carefully set you down on the ground.

You didn’t want to go inside that house. What if your mom changed her mind and came to look for you, but couldn’t find you because you were inside? You’d lose your chance to be with her again…

Even with your aching body, you leaned against a wall to steady yourself and decided to stand firm like a post at the entrance of the building, waiting for your mom, who would come for you soon… or so you hoped.

Oh, what if she had come for you last night but didn’t pick you up because you were asleep?

Oh no…

Last night, you had been so overwhelmed that you couldn’t help but cry. All the events from just a few hours ago were fresh in your mind and soul, and you were starting to come to terms with what you had done.

All your siblings, the ones who had comforted you when your mother punished you, the ones you curled up with as they rocked you to sleep, who kept you company with their presence while you talked about crazy nonsense for hours, and with whom you had played and shared your life…

You killed them, all of them. You incinerated them to ashes, and your mother surely had to hear their screams in her head, powerless to stop it.

If you were your mother, you would have tried to kill yourself too.

Your powers were undoubtedly weaker than your mother’s; you didn’t have that psychic connection with your siblings. For her, the loss must have been so much worse. And because of you.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall; you couldn’t, you shouldn’t.

Your siblings were burned to the roots because of you. Your mother had to hear them, unable to stop their suffering, and you were the one crying?!

You couldn’t. You had no right to do so.

You tried as hard as you could to hold it all in. You attempted to distract yourself with your surroundings, but it only made it worse.

The outside world wasn’t what you had imagined. It was dark, gloomy, very cold; you were scared, and you were alone.

The illusion that had motivated you hours ago had died upon facing the reality of the world. It wasn’t the incredible place you had imagined in dreams and fantasized about with your siblings. You hated it. If you had known it was like this, you would have never wished to leave your home with Doodle.

It was all so overwhelming for you that physical and emotional exhaustion had inevitably caused you to fall deeply asleep.

Now you regretted having done it; you had lost the chance to be with your mother again. How little idiot you were.

The attendant noticed how your body tensed and started to shake; he knew your mind wasn't with them now, he recognized a panic attack when he saw one, but he didn't quite know what to do; he didn’t know what was causing it, but still…

"Hey" the man next to you touched your shoulder, trying to get your attention. "Do you like animals?"

The question caught your attention. Yes, you had heard about some, and the only ones you had seen in person were a few birds flying overhead while you and your brothers were sunbathing. Your siblings…

You tried to clear your mind and nodded shyly.

“I only know about birds,” you told him, and made a confused expression upon hearing your own battered voice.

“And what about cats?”

You frowned. “What’s a cat?”

The man made a surprised grimace for a second, then told you to wait there and disappeared into the building.

You took advantage of this brief moment alone to wipe away the snot that had started to appear and to dab at the small traces of tears. A few seconds later, the man returned with a fluffy orange ball in his arms.

You frowned and tilted your head in confusion at this.

He kept his distance from you but knelt down to your level and carefully placed the fluffy ball on the ground.

The “fluffy ball” began to take on another shape in your eyes as it stood up. You could then identify the form of its ears, paws, and tail. It was something new for you, but you wanted to get to know it.

“This is Garfield. Garfield, this is…” The man fell silent, realizing he didn’t know your name to introduce you.

“Y/N!” you quickly indicated, but upon realizing how high and hurried your tone was, you tried to correct yourself. “My name is Y/N…”

“That’s a nice name, Y/N. I’m Liam, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You slowly extended your hand toward the big cat, who initially backed away before you could touch it, so you withdrew your hand.

"Let it smell you first. Animals often sense threats through their sense of smell. This way, it will gain confidence by knowing what it’s up against," Liam said.

You processed his words for a moment and nodded, trying again, stopping your hand near Garfield but not touching him.

The animal gradually approached your hand and sniffed it. You watched as his pupils dilated considerably, and he let out a small meow before coming closer and purring. You pulled your hand back at his (to you) unfamiliar behavior, but that didn’t stop him. He sashayed over to your right leg and rubbed against it, seeking all the contact he could get.

You just tensed up, unsure of what this meant.

“Is he vibrating… is he going to explode?” you asked the adult, rigid with fear.

He just laughed at your expression and gently shook his head. “He’s purring; it means he really likes you and enjoys your presence,” he explained.

He? Enjoying your presence…?

“…Really?” Liam nodded slightly.

You smiled at Garfield, and your whole body relaxed to the sound of his purring. The carer helped you sit carefully on the steps, and then Garfield seized the moment to hop into your lap.

You took the leap to pet him. It felt like petting a cloud! (Not that you had ever petted a cloud before, but it should feel like this.) And it seemed Garfield really liked it because he kept pushing his head against your hand. He snuggled into your chest and let you hold him in your arms, though with Doodle between them, you had to juggle to hold both.

You definitely loved cats.

Time flew by with Garfield, but soon it was impossible not to notice the huge cars that had parked in front of you.

Two adult men got out of the black and white car—one had a friendly demeanor and brown skin, while the other had white hair with some orange highlights and was wearing glasses.

You heard the last man exhale a low, “My God…”

You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Meanwhile, from the large white car, two other people dressed in light blue rushed over to you. They hesitated for several long seconds, exchanging a glance before trying to lift you.

You looked to the carer for any instructions or at least some information. He simply said, “They’re here to help,” before heading to a secluded spot with the men from the black-and-white car.

As for you, the helpers introduced themselves as healthcare workers and proceeded to explain each procedure and what it was for before doing anything. You were grateful for that; it helped calm you down and build trust. They even let you listen to your own heartbeat!

“Let him smell you first…”

“That way, he’ll gain confidence by knowing what he’s facing…”

Mr. Liam was very wise, you thought. He could have gotten along well with your brothers, the trees. No doubt, if Liam were a plant, he would be a great tree.

After a few minutes, the man with brown skin approached you to… take your saliva? Odd…

You saw him talk to the man in glasses once more before getting back in the car and driving away. You shrugged it off, downplaying the situation.

Time seemed to pass very slowly for you. The men in light blue and the man in glasses, who had now told you to call him Officer Gordon, asked you many questions. You could barely keep up with them to answer everything.

Even though you were just sitting there chatting, you felt very tired, as if you had been playing for hours. You wanted to take a break, you wanted to…

You just wanted to go home…

Alfred knew that Master Bruce was more irritable than ever.

It had only been a few days since a new crime lord had appeared in Gotham, one who was interested in taking Black Mask off the map and continuing his business under new rules. Now, gang wars, power grabs, and crime lords were nothing new for Batman to face regularly.

However, this individual had managed to evade every trap set by Batman, escaping numerous pursuits in such a specifically planned manner that Master Bruce had started to become paranoid about this new criminal.

Dick had been called in as backup to catch Red Hood, and Tim had been suspended from his duties as Red Robin until further notice after sneaking out last night to help Batman.

Red Hood had been showing clear signs of hatred specifically toward Timothy, which is why Nightwing and Batman decided to keep him out of patrols for his safety, but Tim had disobeyed that order last night.

And speaking of that… Batman had finally managed to decipher Poison Ivy's plans after she had been missing from Gotham for just over six years. But the mission had gone worse than expected, leaving the Batmobile with some damage. Alfred could almost feel Bruce’s migraine with just a quick glance.

Alfred wanted to help Master Bruce with everything he could regarding domestic matters and resources to lift some of the burden off him; he really wanted to.

But the moment he received a call from the GCPD announcing that Bruce Wayne's biological daughter was at one of the "Martha Wayne" orphanages, he knew that Master Bruce's day was going to be longer than expected.

He took the car keys and headed to the designated location. He didn’t bother to inform his master about his brief departure; Bruce Wayne would surely receive the same information from Commissioner Gordon in a few minutes.

Upon arriving at the location, Alfred didn’t need to ask about the child; she was the only little girl surrounded by so many adults at the entrance of the orphanage.

If he had any doubts about the legitimacy of this supposed child of Wayne, the moment he looked into her eyes, all uncertainty vanished in an instant.

She had exactly the same eyes as the late Mrs. Wayne, but the state the little girl was in certainly worried him.

She was practically covered in more bandages than clothing. There was a gauze on her cheek, her arms and legs were diligently wrapped, and he noted the cast on her left leg.

In speaking with the commissioner, he had been warned about the unfortunate conditions of the girl and her house arrest imposed by her mother. He could see it in her anxious behavior; although she tried to maintain her composure, the implicit fear in her actions revealed how scared she was to be in society, with so many people around her.

He assured the commissioner that everything would be fine and that they would take good care of the girl. The officer let them go after signing a few papers, just the essentials, agreeing that this child needed to rest.

Since the DNA tests came out… or was it DMA? Either way, from that moment on, people seemed relieved around you.

Everyone told you that you were Bruce Wayne’s daughter, as if his name had to resonate in your head in some way. When you asked who he was and if they knew him, many people began to sing his praises and talked about how lucky you were to be his daughter. They assured you that everything would be fine, that you would be in good hands.

To be honest, you had a vague understanding of the common family dynamics among humans. You knew that most children had a mother and a father. Even your own mother had some.

But you weren’t like most kids. Naturally, you thought your mother had created you like the rest of your siblings, even though she had once told you that you were made from an egg until you were old enough to come out of it. Your mother had said you were a gift.

But now, you were aware that your mother had lied to you about some things…

“… If you can do that, no one will be able to harm the plants or us. And we will stay together, forever…”

In many things...

Simultaneously, Alfred thought you had been quiet for longer than usual. Considering that you had been chatting enthusiastically with the orphanage staff and the paramedics about botany and the essential care needed for houseplants, he assumed you were a talkative person.

Alfred had dealt with four traumatized children before; he knew what words to say to comfort a child like you or at least coax you out of your shell.

Through the driver's mirror, he noticed the small, mostly destroyed Red Robin doll that was cradled in your arms. That doll had certainly seen better days.

“Maybe when we get to the mansion, we can do something for the young masked one,” Alfred began, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you followed his gaze to Doodle, realizing he was referring to him.

“Maybe…” you murmured. “Doodle didn’t have a good night.” You added, trying to justify his poor condition.

Alfred chose to ignore the latter part of your statement, not wanting to rub salt in the wound by asking you about your night; the authorities had probably exhausted you with questions already.

“Doodle?” he repeated the name, hoping you would continue talking about it. “That’s a very peculiar name for a doll. I must confess, it’s the first time I’ve heard it.”

He observed how your smile faltered. “Yeah… I named him that because it sounded funny…” It sounded as if you were trying to justify why your friend had an unusual name.

The butler immediately noticed how your tone began to drop on the last syllables, and you squeezed the doll even tighter against your chest.

Returning his gaze to the road, he continued speaking. “Uncommon things, like, for example, names, aren’t necessarily bad or strange. They’re special. They’re unique.”

Though you could no longer see his expression in the mirror, you had the feeling that Alfred wasn’t just referring to Doodle.

You wondered if Alfred was also an old tree.

After being approached by so many people who spoke wonders about your father, you hoped it would be him waiting to greet you upon entering the mansion.

But you were met only with an unsettling and cold silence. The mansion, though large and beautiful, felt tremendously lonely. Not in a peaceful way, but in the sense that something bad was happening.

Alfred seemed to sense your disappointment. “I’m sorry he couldn’t be here to meet you, but Master Bruce is very busy at the moment. Perhaps he can meet with you at dinner,” he tried to comfort you. You simply resigned yourself and nodded.

“In the meantime, how about we look for a room for you?”

But before you could move on to that, you heard the footsteps of at least three people. Your heart raced with excitement as you saw a well-dressed, handsome adult man descending the grand staircase. Somehow, you sensed it was your father.

He was better than you could have ever imagined! And the best part was that he had made time in his schedule to come and greet you! You!

Even though you could barely stand without Alfred's constant support, you tried to take a few steps toward him, reaching out to go into his arms. But he moved ahead of you, quickening his pace and slipping past you without stopping.

You froze for a few seconds, arms outstretched, waiting for a hug that never came. Disappointment washed over you, and with great effort, you turned to see Mr. Wayne talking to Alfred about something that had nothing to do with you, completely ignoring your presence.

After a brief exchange of words with Alfred, he turned and headed for the exit, giving you only a sidelong, critical glance before passing through the door.

You stared at the door for a moment before turning your confused and helpless gaze back to Alfred, who didn’t seem pleased with his master’s behavior.

“Miss Y/N, I apologize, but I need to step away for a moment. I must discuss a few things with Master Bruce.” The way he said Bruce sent chills down your spine. “I trust that Master Richard can show you the rooms on the first floor.”

Behind you, he looked toward the young man who was standing by the stairs, silently ordering him to accompany you.

“Of course, no problem at all,” Dick assured Alfred.

Once at your side, Dick gave you a somewhat tense smile.

“Hey there, little one! What’s your name?”

Even though he was addressing you, it felt like he wasn’t really paying attention, more focused on the other boy who was coming down the stairs with a scowl.

“Y/N…” you murmured so softly that you weren't sure he heard you. You were about to correct yourself when Dick interrupted with an enthusiastic, “What a beautiful name!”

Both of their attention turned to the third individual who had come down the stairs. A boy a few years older than you, who didn’t seem interested in being friendly, judging by the critical look he gave you.

You hugged Doodle tighter to your chest and nervously let out, “I’m Y/N.”

“I didn’t ask,” was his response.

A knot formed in your stomach as you watched the older boy nudge him lightly in reprimand. With a nervous laugh, he tried to justify it.

“Sorry, W/N, he’s a bit anxious to get outside; I promised to take him to the arcade today.”

Your ears buzzed with excitement at hearing the name of that wonderful place you had always fantasized about. Before you realized what you were saying, the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“Can I go with you?”

“Oh…” Dick looked at Tim, uncomfortable. “I don’t know, honey, wouldn’t you prefer to take it easy and, I don’t know, take a shower?” Dick left the comment hanging, but it made you realize your deplorable, ragged appearance.

Your cheeks heated with embarrassment, and you could only look away and nod, fearing that if you answered with your voice, it would break into tears from how embarrassed you felt.

Before leaving, Dick pointed out the darkened hallway where the old rooms of the mansion were supposed to be. He instructed you to choose one that you liked and make yourself comfortable.

On the other hand, Tim looked at you one last time, paying attention to Doodle before lifting his head and muttering a low “Hypocrite,” before he left and left you alone.

You stayed in your spot for at least 3 minutes, processing in your mind the number of significant events that had happened in such a short time.

“May I know what you intend, sir?” Alfred confronted Bruce once they were a considerable distance from the mansion. “I understand that Miss Y/N’s presence might not be comforting to you right now, but nothing can justify your inconsiderate behavior towards that girl,” he shot back. “I had thought I raised you better than that…”

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face, revealing the exasperation he had been holding back since he learned that the butler had returned home.

“What did you expect from me, Alfred? My son came back from the dead and is already a confirmed killer, and things are going from bad to worse with Tim. What makes you think I have time for another child?”

The news that Jason had somehow returned from the dead, with more thirst for revenge than ever, had robbed Bruce of sleep. And lately, he had lashed out at Tim, throwing in Bruce's face how quickly he had replaced him.

Even though he had strictly forbidden Tim from being Red Robin for a while, he disobeyed and snuck into the mission Bruce was on last night, and not only that, he was discovered by that same girl, and Gotham was nearly populated by half-human, half-plant beings.

He put the mission at risk and also jeopardized his safety. To top it all off, although they captured Ivy, the explosion caused several pieces of glass to fly out and severely damage the Batmobile. If it hadn’t been for Dick, who arrived at the last minute in the Batplane, they would have had significant problems figuring out how to get the Batmobile back to the cave.

The argument they had upon arriving was tense, to say the least. Without Dick, it would have probably spiraled out of control.

To be honest, he couldn’t sleep either, and Alfred knew that, so right now the migraine was killing him. But things came to a head when Jim Gordon called Bruce Wayne to inform him that… his daughter? was at one of the oldest orphanages in Gotham, lost.

At first, he firmly believed it was a mistake; he was in a deep state of denial. It was impossible for him to have biological children. He was aware that his "Brucie" persona was reckless, but that didn't mean Bruce would take it to the extreme of not using protection in his sex life, especially when he had to keep up appearances.

But Gordon handed him the DNA test results, and there was no way to refute that. It was his DNA; there was no doubt. When he looked at the other half of the DNA results, he had to read it one, two, even three times to convince himself that the name Pamela Isley was indeed on the other part of the report.

This couldn't be happening. He had never been with Ivy in either of his identities—there was no way...

At least, not one he could remember.

Batman quickly glanced at the photo of the little girl, recognizing her as the one who had been with Ivy the previous night. More than anything, he focused on finding her date of birth or an approximate age. She was just over five years old. That must have been why Ivy had disappeared from his radar for so long.

At that time, Ivy had been out of Arkham, but she showed no signs of being pregnant...

Unless...

Batman typed and sifted through the security footage from Arkham six years ago. As he suspected, it was during a breakout when Ivy had managed to drug him and then...

God...

As if dealing with Talia hadn't been enough, a few months later Ivy had repeated the act, and he couldn't remember anything, leaving him unsure of how deeply Ivy had abused him and in what way.

This time, it wasn't Batman who needed a break, but Bruce Wayne—the man behind the mask who had been victimized—and he couldn't recall any of it...

Maybe, just this once, ignorance of the events felt like a blessing.

And now the fruit of that cursed day was on its way to his home, likely crossing the threshold of that door with Alfred. He didn't want this—why did he have to have her?

Should he celebrate his mistake as Batman? With the potential risk that Isley might know about his secret identities?

“I wasn’t expecting anything, sir. You know that. But that little girl was waiting to be welcomed by a father when she walked through that door.”

"She has no notion of most of the things around her, remember?" In that last sentence, Bruce said, "She doesn't have the slightest idea of what a father is, Alfred." He hurried to refute Bruce, aware that he was losing his composure and starting to act irrationally. "I just…" he brought a hand to his face. "Ivy… She… I… God."

Bruce felt his legs fail him, and he thought he was going to fall, but of course, Alfred would not allow that.

The aforementioned individual thought it was time to go to a more private place to talk. Carefully, he placed his young companion in the back seat of the car and headed toward one of the alternate entrances to the Batcave.

By the time night fell, Alfred understood that Bruce wouldn't want to know anything about you for a long time, much to his regret. Although he understood where that feeling came from, he couldn't help but feel sorry for you. You were caught in the crossfire of two adults.

But they could not ignore the fact that you needed an identity, yet Bruce showed no signs of wanting to acknowledge you as his daughter anytime soon. But it didn't matter; he would do it when he was ready, but until that moment, you had the surname Pennyworth at the end of your name.

Days passed. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months for you.

Despite the long time, you still couldn't define what life was like with your new family… The line between family and strangers was too blurry for you. There were situations where you were left wondering if you had done something wrong on the day you met them. Did you perhaps stain the carpet with your dirt? Or maybe without realizing it, did you make some expression or action that annoyed them? … Or perhaps they found out about your eye?

On the day you met your family, you justified them thinking they had a bad day. It's nothing! Your mother also has bad days sometimes, where you learned the hard way that it was better to leave her alone. Maybe this was the same.

The next day you tried again to approach your father. You were fortunate that he came down the stairs to go to the living room (it remained impossible for you to stand for long periods, and even more so to go up the stairs, so you only stayed on the ground floor all day).

When you got close enough to him, you gently tugged at the sleeve of his shirt a few times, trying to get his attention. He, in the meantime, tensed when he saw it was you and took a few steps back, but still, you tried not to let it affect you.

"Hello," you greeted, trying to sound as best as possible.

"Hello…" but your father didn't seem to notice. "Is there something you need?"

You bit your lip, realizing that maybe you should have thought of an excuse before bothering him. How silly.

Timidly, you held Doodle up in front of you. “Do you like to play?” You offered him a smile.

“No,” was his reply, as blunt as Tim's, and it made you feel anxious.

"Ah… that's okay. Mom didn't like to play either," you said, trying to reassure him, but he didn’t seem worried at all…

Before you could think of anything else to keep him there, he was already turning to leave.

“Dad…!” He stopped in his tracks, and you feared you’d said something inappropriate.

Bruce glanced around before kneeling down to your level.

“Listen, I know this afternoon you’ll be going with Alfred to get your things…” You nodded enthusiastically, and before you could start rambling about how excited you were, he raised his hand as a signal for silence. “So there are some rules you need to know.” You nodded. “The first is that you can’t tell anyone I’m your father, okay?”

"Listen to me well, little killer. If you tell anyone that I'm your mother, and I swear to God I'll know if you do, feeding you to the worms will be the lightest thing that happens to you."

Your smile faded, and unknowingly, a crack formed in your heart, but you nodded anyway. Bruce continued.

“Outside the house, refer to me as Mr. Wayne. Do you understand?” You didn’t nod, but you didn’t shake your head either. You just looked at him with sad eyes. “Do you understand?” Not very convinced, you nodded. “Then say it.”

“... Mr. Wayne.”

“Again.”

“Mr. Wayne.”

“Once more.”

“Mr. Wayne!” you exclaimed, annoyed, and Bruce realized he had pushed you too far. After a few moments of silent assessment, he seemed satisfied with your response.

He turned and walked away. This time, you didn’t try to stop him. You headed straight to your room, completely forgetting that you had gone out because you hadn’t eaten anything in a few days, but strangely, you had lost your appetite.

Whenever you were in your room, you couldn't help but marvel at how big it was and dreamed of decorating it. But this time, you couldn't; your mind was elsewhere. You kept replaying everything you had done since you entered the mansion, but you didn't think you had done anything wrong…

You looked at Doodle in your arms before rage took over and you hurled him with all your might to the other side of the room.

“It’s your fault! Because of you, my dad doesn’t love me!” Before you could stop yourself, thick tears started to form in your eyes. “You told him something, didn’t you…? You’re the only one who knows…” Your voice broke, and you collapsed backward onto your bed, suppressing the part of you that knew Doodle was just a toy.

You didn’t see Dick or Tim again for several weeks.

Tim only left his room when he went to a place called school, and when he came back and you tried to play with him, he didn’t respond or would just say, “Stay away from me.”

You told yourself many times that he might just be having a bad day, but seriously? Is he going to have so many bad days in a row?

You started to think there was something wrong with you, but you didn’t understand what.

Alfred encouraged you to keep trying by doing things like bringing him food in the living room or to his room, and you did! But when you asked him what he was doing or if you could join him, Tim would just give you a nasty look, and that was enough to make you retreat back to Alfred.

You had been told that Dick didn’t live in Gotham, which is why you didn’t see him very often, but when he was around, it seemed like he was here for everyone else except you.

He spent a lot of time with Bruce; sometimes, they even went out with Tim to places where they didn’t bother to invite you. They showed up at parties and other events. Sometimes, you heard Dick giving words of encouragement to Tim, and you would daydream about him saying those same things to you, about having what they had. You wished you could go places and do things with Dick, that he would tell you the same things he told Tim, that he would hug you and pamper you like he did with everyone else.

But you couldn’t get him to remember your name. In all your encounters, you noticed he got nervous when he spoke to you and called you W/N. That made you realize that your family didn’t talk about you at all.

Months after your arrival, you met Jason. Alfred said he had a fragile relationship with Bruce at the moment; apparently, they had a big argument in the past but were trying to work things out.

Alfred always talked a little about each family member so you could try to get closer to them, and you really tried. When you found out that Jason liked to read novels, you first asked your dad if he could teach you to read. He dismissed you, saying he already had activities planned with Tim for the week, and by the amused look Tim shot him, you knew it was a lie.

Resigning yourself, you asked Alfred if he could teach you to read. You didn’t like burdening him with requests; you knew firsthand how exhausting his daily work was. You helped him every day with shopping and cleaning, but he assured you it wasn’t a burden, and he gladly taught you to read.

You read the first pages of the books that Alfred told you to read; the truth is that you didn't manage to understand much. The language was complicated for someone your age, and it confused you a lot, but when you met Jason, perhaps you could ask him to read them together!

But your first encounter was disastrous. From behind, you tried to get his attention by pulling his hand, but with just a touch, Jason gave you a very strong elbow to the head, causing your eye to detach from its place and roll away from you, but close enough to Jason for him to notice.

"What…?!"

You bent down to blindly search for your eye.

"Don't worry, sometimes it pops out of the socket, but it can go back in…!" It was fortunate for you that you were too busy looking for your eye to see the disgusted look on Jason's face.

"Ew, that's so gross."

"…I can’t control it," you murmured under your breath, sure he couldn’t hear you.

By the time your eye returned to its place, Jason was no longer in the library.

After meeting Jason, you met Barbara.

She wasn't your father's daughter or anything, but she seemed to be part of the family even more than you. You tried to console yourself by saying that she had known them much longer than you; don't worry, the time will come when you'll be as close to them as Babs!

Maybe the first encounters with your siblings had a few hiccups, but with Barbara, it could be different; she was a girl! You loved spending time with Alfred, but to tell the truth, you also missed some femininity in your environment.

When you met her, she was working in the living room on a computer.

Alfred had shown you an old photo of Barbara, where she was with Dick during their college days. So it caught your attention when you saw her in a very strange chair for you.

You stood by her side for a few seconds, waiting for her to get used to your presence and for another incident like the one with Jason to happen.

"Hi, I'm Y/N."

She turned to you for a second, nodded in your direction as a greeting before continuing with her work. "I'm Barbara."

"I know, Alfred told me a bit about you! What do you do?" With nothing but childlike curiosity, you tried to look at the computer screen, but Barbara didn't let you, nor did she give you any excuses about it.

You tried not to feel hurt by this, convincing yourself in your head that it was nothing personal against you…

“Can I ask why you're in that chair?”

Barbara turned to you with a cold expression. “No.”

A knot formed in your stomach, and your palms began to sweat. “Then… can I help you with what you're doing?” You wanted to grasp at anything that might lead to at least a small conversation with her.

Barbara sighed and rubbed her temples. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

Your heart sank, and you unconsciously muttered, “No…?”

“Well, that’s not my problem. Find someone else.” She turned back to the computer, ending the conversation.

“Yes, ma’am…” You turned away and walked heavily toward the kitchen, where Alfred would surely be.

On your way, you overheard Barbara speaking to someone on the other end of the line.

“Was it her?… Yeah, I met her.” She sighed. “Is she always like this?”

She was probably talking to someone in your family. You wanted them to talk about you, but not like this…

Not long after, you met Stephanie. By now, you had gotten used to being rejected and sidelined, so you weren’t surprised when she turned down your offers to do something together, like going to the park or the garden. She’d rather spend time with your siblings than with you.

You genuinely wanted to hang out with them, and even Alfred scolded them in front of you for constantly excluding you. That same day, they had to let you join them in the recreation room. They gave you a controller (which was disconnected) and tried to convince you that you were playing along, but you noticed the characters on the screen moving without you pressing any buttons.

It didn’t go unnoticed how the previously lively atmosphere of teasing faded when they agreed to let you join. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, and only the sounds of the video game filled the air. Even though it was your first time seeing a video game and the closest you’d ever been to one, the experience was uncomfortable, to say the least.

It was clear to you that they didn’t want you there. You wanted to spend time with them, but you didn’t want to force them to include you; you wished they would want to on their own…

After about 15 minutes of being there, you set the controller down on the table and excused yourself before leaving.

You heard Steph speak as you exited the room.

“Seriously, what the hell? She gets all hysterical and makes a scene just to leave? That girl needs help.”

You gathered all your strength to avoid turning around and shouting at them. That would only prove Steph's point, and you refused to give her that satisfaction.

Eventually, you found yourself alone with Doodle most of the time. Of course, you had Alfred (without him, you probably would have died of boredom). Most of the time, you helped him with household chores, but there were things you couldn’t assist with because of your age, so Alfred offered alternatives like practicing your reading, writing, or drawing.

Once, he suggested watching TV, but when you turned it on, the first thing you saw was a news report about your mother and a successful heist at a lab. She looked just as you remembered her—beautiful and bold—and she looked good… She looked happy… And without you.

At that moment, all those months of suppressing your feelings and thoughts about her came rushing out, and you swore you were falling apart in tears. Did she not miss you at all? Really?

Alfred had to gently pull you away from the TV; you had been crying in front of it for at least thirty minutes. He stayed by your side until you fell asleep, and even in your dreams, you mumbled things about your mother. He decided it was best for you to stay away from screens until you were older.

That brought you to your current situation: writing and drawing in your journal. You thought it was a good opportunity to express some things that had happened regarding your family—things you didn’t dare to share with Alfred, or even with Doodle. Things about your mother, your disconnect from nature, the excitement and nerves that came with your first day of school.

You recounted how you had asked Dick if he could accompany you on your first day, but he said it wasn’t a big deal and that you would be fine. He ruffled your hair and walked away. You wanted to believe him, really, but lately, you didn’t trust your family as much. Not their words, nor their actions.

When the day finally came, nerves got the best of you, and you secretly brought Doodle in your backpack as a form of support. Surprisingly, many kids tried to interact with you. Kids your age, who also liked to play and talk, unlike most of your family. You felt like a fish in water, even though you didn’t understand most of what was being said in class.

It seemed like luck was finally smiling on you…

✿⁠ ⸺ N/A ⦂ First of all, I want to start by thanking everyone for their likes, reblogs, and comments. I never thought this story would receive so much support and popularity in such a short time! Really, thank you so much, especially to those who left comments about the story and reblogged it <333

✿⁠ ⸺ N/A ⦂ Now, on the other hand, I had a lot of plans for this chapter, but the ideas came crashing in like an avalanche. So, to make something of quality while also including all the content I originally planned, I'm going to have to split it into 3 parts. It might take me a little while to upload a new chapter since it's exam season where I am, and classes finish at the end of this month. There are a lot of exams in a short amount of time, and I need to focus on that, but I’ll do my best to get the next chapter up as soon as possible!

✿⁠ ⸺ N/A ⦂ By the way, I mentioned in a previous post that I'm working on a materialist. I might upload the chapter guide for this story along with ideas for some other ones I have in mind but won't be working on just yet. So if anyone wants to be tagged in it, please let me know in the comments!

✿⁠ ⸺ N/A ⦂ Speaking of that, there’s also a taglist to be notified about new chapters, so if anyone wants to be added, just let me know! But please be clear about which of the two taglists you want to be added to; if you write to me without specifying, I’ll add you to both lists. That’s all