Chapter Text
The rain had started an hour ago.
Not a heavy storm—just enough to leave Gotham's rooftops slick and shining beneath the city lights.
You sat on the edge of an old apartment building, patrol forgotten for the moment.
A bottle rested beside you.
A cigarette glowed faintly between your fingers.
The city below buzzed with distant sirens and traffic.
For a few precious minutes, nobody was talking to you.
Nobody was giving orders.
Nobody was expecting anything.
Then a grappling hook landed on the rooftop.
You immediately groaned.
"Seriously?"
A black figure vaulted onto the roof.
Then another.
Then another.
Apparently Gotham's vigilantes traveled in packs now.
Nightwing landed first.
"Found them!"
"Unfortunately," Red Hood said.
Robin crossed his arms.
"You abandoned your patrol route."
"I took a break."
"You disappeared for forty-seven minutes."
You pointed at Damian.
"See? That's exactly why I needed a break."
Nightwing snorted.
Damian looked insulted.
Then Batman arrived.
Of course he did.
Because your luck was terrible.
Everyone's eyes immediately landed on the bottle.
Then the cigarette.
The silence that followed was painful.
Jason finally broke it.
"Wow."
"Don't."
"You got caught drinking on patrol."
"Jason."
"And smoking."
"Jason."
"In front of Batman."
"Jason!"
He grinned.
"It gets funnier every second."
Dick covered his face.
Tim looked exhausted.
Damian appeared ready to write a five-page lecture.
Batman simply stared.
Which was somehow worse than yelling.
You sighed.
"Look, I know."
Bruce stepped closer.
"You know what?"
"That I'm going to get a speech."
"A speech is the least of your concerns."
"Great."
The rain continued to fall.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Bruce looked at you more carefully.
His voice became quieter.
"What's wrong?"
The question surprised you.
You blinked.
"What?"
"Something is bothering you."
You looked away.
"I'm fine."
"You're sitting alone on a rooftop in the rain."
"..."
"While drinking."
"..."
"And smoking."
"..."
"You are clearly not fine."
Jason raised a hand.
"I'd like to point out he's got a solid argument."
Nobody acknowledged him.
You stared out over Gotham.
Part of you wanted to make a joke.
Part of you wanted to change the subject.
Instead, the truth slipped out.
"I'm tired."
The words barely rose above a whisper.
But everyone heard them.
"I'm tired of getting hurt."
You swallowed.
"Tired of trying to keep up."
Your voice cracked slightly.
"Tired of feeling like I'm never good enough."
The rooftop suddenly felt much smaller.
Nightwing's grin disappeared.
Tim looked down.
Even Damian remained silent.
Bruce's expression softened.
"You don't have to prove yourself every day."
You laughed weakly.
"Could've fooled me."
Nobody had a response to that.
Because everyone in the Batfamily pushed themselves too hard.
Including Bruce.
Especially Bruce.
After a moment, Nightwing sat beside you.
Then Tim.
Jason dropped onto the rooftop nearby.
Damian reluctantly joined them.
You looked around.
"What are you all doing?"
"Taking a break," Jason said.
"You just said we couldn't take breaks," Damian pointed out.
Jason shrugged.
"New policy."
Dick smiled.
"For the record, there were less self-destructive ways to get our attention."
You rolled your eyes.
"Noted."
Bruce picked up the bottle.
Then the cigarette pack.
Without a word, he tucked both into his utility belt.
Confiscated.
You weren't getting those back.
Probably ever.
"Come home," Bruce said.
The words were simple.
But they weren't an order.
They were an invitation.
You looked at the family gathered around you.
The people who annoyed you.
Frustrated you.
Embarrassed you.
And cared about you far more than they knew how to say.
Finally, you stood.
"Fine."
Jason smirked.
"You know, this is going in the family group chat."
Your eyes widened.
"What group chat?"
"There is no group chat," Bruce said immediately.
"There absolutely is," Tim replied.
Bruce looked genuinely offended.
And for the first time that night, you laughed.