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You're the youngest, but still a vigilante. You were still new to the Batfam, but Bruce had known you well enough to let you go on patrol with him. You had recently gone on patrol with him, it was meant to be just a patrol. How did it go so wrong?
Shots are being fired, you get grazed in the side. Ow, shit. The building isn't stable. Where's B? You clutch your side and try to find him through the chaos. Your ears are ringing, you don't hear the steel beam creak ominously above you. You hit a thug with your bo-staff.
You don’t hear Batman call your code name. The steel beam creaks again, all you can hear is ringing and your own heartbeat. When had everything gone wrong?
Batman appears behind you, before immediately forcing you down to the ground and covering you with his body. Something hits his back, it pushes him down on you. You can't lift him off you. His breath is shallow. You had never seen him limp before.
“B. Batman?” You try to get his attention. It's hard to breathe, your side hurts. There's blood. You twist your head up, his head is bleeding. Fuck.
“B! Wake up! Stay awake!” Tears spill down your cheeks.
“We need backup!” You choke into your comms.
He would be okay if you had paid more attention.
You jolt awake, breathing heavily. You can feel that the stitches in your side have been pulled, bleeding through the bandages and hoodie. You're still at the Batcomputer. Bruce is in the medbay. Alfred says he should wake up in a few days. When had he said that? What day even is it?
“Master Y/N, you ought to go to bed, you're not healed yet either.” Alfred says from the medbay doors.
“I'm fine, Alfred.” You reply, refocusing on the computer. Alfred has been the only one speaking to you since the mission. Everyone else thought you were fine and were mad that you had accidentally got Bruce this hurt. Jason was the only one who seemed indifferent, but everyone knew he wasn't happy about it either.
You felt awful, you had barely slept since it happened, trying to find the people who had caused the commotion in the first place. You refused water and food, sleep too anytime Alfred mentioned it. Plus you didn't care about your injuries. You had Alfred keep you updated on Bruce. You did patrols by yourself because Alfred was the only one who noticed, and couldn't exactly stop you.
“He wouldn't like knowing you're doing this to yourself while he's MIA.” Alfred says, now right behind you. He puts a hand on your shoulder and you flinch. No one ever flinched when it came to Alfred. He pulled his hand back reluctantly.
“I'm responsible for not being responsible out there.” You mutter in response. The only one who had the authority to and would force you to rest was Clark Kent, Bruce's boyfriend. But you went on patrols when he visited Bruce to avoid it. You had to take some kind of responsibility.
Alfred's jaw clenches. He knows the only reason the others hadn't stepped in was because they didn’t know how unwell you had become. Perhaps he should have Clark come unannounced or inform your adopted siblings. They did all care about you, you were just new and they were mad.
He leaves you alone for now.
—--------------‐-
An alert goes off on the computer, you jump up and suit up quickly. You leave a note explaining there was a crime alert that you went to check out.
Unbeknownst to you, Alfred informs Dick, not about the whole thing. But Dick couldn't let any of his younger siblings go out alone. Except Jason, Jason was old enough.
—-----------------
Ow, fuck. Your side is definitely infected. There were knives involved this time. Goody. You were one against five, somehow holding your own. Then again, you were bleeding, had a shallow stab wound in the stomach. And very little will to live.
“Look, we could all just go home and call it a day.” You say, an attempt to get them to pause.
“Fat chance, kid. You messed with the wrong group.” Some guy snarls. One guy lunges at you, you get clipped in your already injured side. Fuck. Your vision goes blurry
A blur of blue and black catches your vision. You sway as black dots cloud your vision. A hand on your shoulder causes you to flinch.
“Shadow,” Dick’s voice says your code name, softer than it's been in a few days.
“We'll be having quite the talk when we get home about going out by yourself.” He says, pulling you closer to him. He still doesn't know how bad off you are.
You stumble into him, your vision swims.
“Whoa, kid.” You hear in the background as your knees buckle. Dick catches you, and worry radiates off him. He sees your injuries, a worrying amount of blood from the side Alfred had mentioned got injured a few nights ago.
“Shadow? Hey!” You black out.
—---------------
“They haven't been sleeping, eating, hydrating, or resting since you've been out. And it's been nearly a week, Master Bruce.” Your head is pounding, voices sound distant and underwater. There's a warm presence next to you. You groan quietly, attempting to shift but stopping when pain flares through you.
“Y/N, kiddo?” You get pulled closer to the warmth, you groan again and shift your head. Your face burrows into the side of Bruce. He looks at you sadly.
“Not even a hello, hm?” He attempts to tease you. Your eyes finally open when you start to register whose voice it is. You recoil slightly, as much as the cramped medbay bed allows. You had never done anything like that to anyone, and oh god. He doesn't even seem mad, he should be.
“Ohmygosh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?” You say, sounding as panicked as you feel. This reaction surprises Bruce, but not Alfred. You have been easy to panic as of recent.
“Whoa, hey. Calm down, I should be asking you that.” Bruce replied, trying to steady you so you wouldn't pull any more stitches. But just the contact makes you flinch and start apologizing over and over. Bruce doesn't know what to do, he's never seen any of his kids like this.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Bruce looks at Alfred, not sure what he even can do without making you panic more. Alfred sighs and shakes his head, he doesn't know either. Bruce decides to hug you tightly. He doesn't know why you're freaking out, he doesn't regret covering you.
Your hands grip the back of his shirt, trying to be gentle. He leans back in the bed, bringing you with him to lay down with your head on his chest.
—-----------
The others had come in after you calmed down. You were mostly asleep against Bruce.
“Will they be okay?” Dick quietly asks Alfred.
“Both master Bruce and master Y/N will be alright physically…I'm not sure about Y/N's mental recovery however.” Alfred answers.
“Tch.” Damian comes up next to the bed you and his father are resting in. Bruce could tell the boy was concerned, everyone was.
“I think we all need to have a discussion about what goes on when I'm out of commission.” Bruce states. Dick winces, feeling like an awful older brother for not noticing how bad you got. Bruce looks down at you.
“In the meantime however, no one lets them back in the bat cave until I say so.” he says. Everyone nods in agreement.
—--------------------------
“So, can everyone please explain their thought process while I was out?” Bruce asks, elbows on his knees and leaning forward in a plush chair.
Everyone was gathered in the living room. There was food on the table, some of your favorites too. You had taken a seat in the corner of the couch. Corners were safer, they always had been. You had refused to make eye contact with anyone. Bruce was mostly healed, you had to be careful but could walk by yourself.
No one says anything. This felt like an intervention. You wanted to be anywhere else.
“I will draw sticks if I need to.” Bruce threatens. You suppose it's not much of a threat, you just don't like talking about your feelings or how your damn brain works.
“We-” Tim starts to say, Bruce cuts him off.
“No, I want all of your thought processes, not a summary. Although, you may as well start.” Tim winces, he wasn't one to talk about his feelings either. Bruce didn't seem to care much.
“I…was upset. I mostly focused on helping Alfred with the medical stuff though, I didn't really think about checking in on Y/N since Alfred had handled stitching them up.” He says, wringing his hands in his lap. Bruce looks to Alfred for confirmation, the butler simply nods.
“...I was upset too. Y/N was just so quick to pick up the steps to being a vigilante, I kinda forgot that they haven't been doing it as long as us…or been alive as long as us. I thought they were fine.” Dick admits next. Bruce listens. You're also listening, but don’t look up from your knees that are tucked to your chest.
Bruce notices, but doesn't comment yet.
“I too was irritated. It was an oversight on my part to check on Y/N.” Damian states, calm as ever. Only Bruce notices the regret in his eyes.
“I wasn’t in the house much, Y/N occasionally texted me to ask me about checking something out when they had a lead. But I didn't think much of it.” Jason says next, not ashamed to admit that he hadn't checked on anyone, he never did. Though him agreeing to help you showed that he did actually care.
“Y/N, care to explain next?” Bruce asks you, your shoulders curl in a little bit. None of the others had even been in the city when this whole ordeal happened so they were keeping an eye on the batcomputer and such.
“I was monitoring things when you were out.” You mutter with a shrug, hoping to play it off. Bruce's expression hardens. He knows that's bullshit and you know it too.
“Try again.” He says plainly. You don’t respond at first, opting to delay a response by grabbing a chip while he tells you to try again.
He attempts to make eye contact with you, but you continue to avoid it so he's just staring at you. You weren't actually hungry, you had kinda felt nauseous every time the subject came up, but you definitely didn't want to face this conversation so you savor the chip.
“Kid, you could have died if Dick hadn't finally noticed. You slept for three days straight after passing out according to Alfred.” Bruce says, done with you trying to delay. You wince, you didn't realize you had been out for that long.
“You felt like B would, or should, hate you. Right?” Jason says unexpectedly, all heads turn to him, but he just stares at you head on. You nod slightly while no one is watching you. Bruce notices from the corner of his eye. He didn't want any of his kids to feel that way.
“How'd you know, Jason?” Bruce asks, Jason simply shrugs. Bruce's eye twitches, he hated non answers. But he doesn't push.
“Y/N, now that we have that much. What else were you thinking?” Bruce asks. You curl into yourself again.
“Um,” You didn’t want to explain this. How would you ever look at them again if you admitted that you wished Bruce hadn’t saved you, that Dick hadn’t saved you. Maybe you would have died, you didn’t care much. Maybe you could just go into minimal detail?
“I felt bad, I wasn’t really thinking straight.” You mutter quietly. Bruce raises an eyebrow, knowing that’s not the full story. You wince.
“I thought that maybe, if I made it up to all of you…I wouldn’t have to go back.” You whisper.
Bruce’s expression hardens, Dick looks straight up distraught, even Damian looks like he’ll be sick. Jason just looks blank. Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.
They all knew how abusive your parents had been before you all had been in a car accident and only you survived. They knew how bad the foster system had treated you. No one wanted a stubborn traumatized teen with major trust issues. It was both heartwarming that you wanted to stay with them, but heart breaking that you thought you’d ever be sent back.
“Y/N, you became my kid the moment I adopted you. I don’t let go of my things.” Bruce says. He didn't mean it in a creepy and possessive way. But you were his kid. And nothing could change that.
Bruce knows there’s more to it, but he won’t push. You’re gonna be okay, that’s good enough for him.