its okay…ig
batfam x batsis reader
They had always been good at fighting impossible odds.
They just weren’t very good at remembering the little things.
At first, it was easy for Name to brush it off. They were heroes. Gotham needed them. Emergencies happened.
But eventually, “maybe next time” stopped sounding like an excuse and started sounding like a promise nobody intended to keep.
Bruce had promised—promised—he would make it to the father-daughter dance at school.
Name had spent an hour picking out a dress because Alfred said Bruce had secretly asked what color would make her smile the most. She even practiced dancing in the manor ballroom while Alfred pretended to step on her toes.
She kept looking at the gym doors every few minutes.
Every time they opened, her face lit up.
Every time it wasn’t Bruce, that smile faded a little more.
The dance ended with Name slow dancing with one of her friends dads because they felt bad for her standing alone.
Bruce arrived home just after midnight, still in the Batsuit.
“I got caught up.”
Name only nodded.
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t.
Dick had volunteered to take Titus, Ace, Alfred the cat…
“…and Tiger too,” Name had reminded him while handing over the cat carrier. “She has her annual checkup at two.”
“Already got it handled, kid.”
He’d come home three hours later.
Titus had a clean bill of health.
Ace got new treats.
Alfred the cat had somehow charmed every employee into giving him free toys.
Dick walked inside smiling.
Name looked behind him.
“…Where’s Tiger?”
Dick froze.
“…”
“…Dick.”
He’d forgotten.
Not delayed.
Not rescheduled.
Forgotten.
Her cat had sat at the vet’s office for over an hour before they finally called Wayne Manor asking if someone was coming.
Dick had never felt guilt hit him so fast.
Jason promised he’d read the first chapter of the mystery novel Name had spent six months writing.
She left it on his nightstand.
A week later it hadn’t moved.
When she asked what he thought of the twist…
“…There was a twist?”
She quietly picked the notebook up and left his room.
Jason didn’t even realize what he’d admitted until the door shut.
Tim constantly borrowed things from Name’s room.
Phone chargers.
Headphones.
Hoodies.
Pens.
Books.
He always meant to give them back.
Eventually.
Name stopped asking.
One day Tim walked into her room looking for a charger.
Everything was gone.
Every single thing she’d ever lent him had been returned overnight.
A sticky note sat on the empty shelf.
“Now you don’t have to remember.”
Steph accidentally spoiled the ending to Name’s favorite TV show because she’d forgotten Name hadn’t watched the finale yet.
Cass missed Name’s art showcase because she’d mixed up the dates.
Duke forgot Name’s birthday breakfast because he’d been up all night on patrol.
Damian criticized one of Name’s paintings without realizing she’d entered it into a city-wide competition.
Each mistake was small.
Each apology was sincere. (gtfo my villa)
Each hurt stacked on top of another.
Then came the plays.
Name loved acting.
It wasn’t a hobby.
It wasn’t something she was “trying out.”
It was her thing.
Every semester.
Every musical.
Every lead role.
Every supporting role.
Every curtain call.
She always saved seats.
One for Bruce.
One for Dick.
One for Jason.
One for Tim.
One for Cass.
One for Duke.
One for Steph.
One for Damian.
Sometimes even one for Alfred.
Every program had their names written neatly across the top.
Reserved.
Reserved.
Reserved.
Reserved.
Reserved.
Reserved.
Reserved.
Reserved.
The seats stayed empty.
Every.
Single.
Time.
There was always a reason.
Joker escaped.
League mission.
Justice League emergency.
A robbery.
A patrol.
A meeting.
Traffic.
“I thought someone else was going.”
“I completely lost track of time.”
“We’ll definitely make the next one.”
Name stopped saving seats after the fifth play.
No one noticed.
That was freshman year.
The breaking point came after opening night of the school production of her senior year.
Name had landed the lead.
Months of rehearsals.
Late nights.
Missed sleep.
Costume fittings.
Lines memorized until two in the morning.
She never asked them to come.
Not this time.
Because she already knew.
Still…
A tiny part of her hoped.
When the curtain rose, she glanced toward the audience.
The entire Wayne family section…
Was empty.
Not one familiar face.
After the show, everyone crowded around congratulating her.
Flowers.
Teachers.
Friends.
Parents taking pictures.
Name stood alone backstage, holding the bouquet the drama club had given her.
Alfred arrived nearly forty minutes later.
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss.”
She smiled softly.
“It’s okay.”
Alfred knew that smile.
It wasn’t okay.
The next morning…
Name wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t yelling.
She wasn’t crying.
She simply…
Stopped.
No more waiting in the cave after patrol.
No more asking about everyone’s day.
No more movie nights.
No more leaving snacks in the fridge with names written on them.
No more sitting beside Bruce during breakfast.
No more hugs.
No more teasing Damian.
No more reading with Cass.
No more helping Tim organize evidence.
No more sparring with Dick.
No more listening to Jason ramble about books.
No more late-night rooftop talks with Duke and Steph.
She was polite.
Kind.
Respectful.
But distant.
Like speaking to coworkers.
Bruce noticed first.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.”
“…Sleep well?”
“Mhm.”
No conversation followed.
Dick knocked on Name’s bedroom door.
“Movie night?”
“I’ve got homework.”
“You always make time for movie night.”
“Not tonight.”
The words weren’t cold.
That somehow hurt more.
Jason held out her favorite candy bar.
“Peace offering?”
“You can keep it.”
“…You sure?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
She walked away before he could answer.
Tim discovered she no longer texted him reminders to eat.
Or sleep.
Or drink water.
He hadn’t realized how much she quietly took care of everyone…
Until she stopped.
Damian found Titus curled up outside Name’s room.
Usually Name let him sleep in her bed.
Now the door stayed shut.
Cass hugged Name from behind.
Normally Name melted into every hug.
This time…
She gently pulled away.
“I’m studying.”
Cass watched her leave.
Something inside her cracked.
Eventually Alfred gathered everyone.
The dining room was silent.
Alfred placed something on the table.
Eight play programs.
Every one of them.
Each with reserved names written neatly across the top.
Bruce.
Dick.
Jason.
Tim.
Cass.
Duke.
Steph.
Damian.
Untouched.
Unused.
Then he placed one final item down.
A small stack of father-daughter dance photos.
Every picture showed Name smiling beside teachers…
Friends’ dads…
Or standing alone.
Never Bruce.
Alfred looked around the table.
“I believe Miss Name stopped expecting your attendance long before any of you noticed.”
No one spoke.
Because there wasn’t a single excuse left.
Only regret.
For the first time, they realized Name hadn’t given them the cold shoulder to punish them.
She’d simply stopped expecting the people she loved to show up.
And somehow…
That hurt far more than if she’d screamed at them.
getting everything posted todayyyy