The Batfamily

The explosive shockwave should have hit Jason and Tim. It should have torn through them. But it didn't—because you threw yourself directly into the blast radius, using your own armored body as a human shield to absorb the brunt of the impact before crumbling into the concrete.

Now, the Batcave is a blur of panic and shouting.

"Get the trauma kit! Move, Tim, move!" Jason roars, his hands shaking violently as he helps Bruce lift your limp, bleeding frame onto the medical cot. Your suit is scorched, your breathing shallow, and a slow trail of blood drips from your hairline.

As Bruce quickly cuts away your damaged armor to treat the severe burns and blunt-force trauma, your dropped scroll-comms beep on the metal table nearby. Tim grabs it to check for tactical threats, but the screen illuminates with something far worse.

A relentless, unending stream of notifications. Doxxing threads, leaked photos of your civilian apartment, horrific media smears, and thousands of graphic death threats.

Tim freezes, his face going completely pale. "Bruce... look at this. It's not just the ambush. He’s been targeted for weeks. The media, the forums... they've been tearing him apart, threatening his life every single hour. And he didn't say a word. He just... he just kept smiling and trying to protect us."

"What?!" Damian snaps, drawing a batarang, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. "Who dares threaten Grayson? I will flay them alive."

"Stand down, Damian," Bruce’s low, commanding voice cuts through the panic. He steps into your field of vision, his cowl pulled back, staring down at you with a mix of profound anger and deep fear. He presses a cold, medical scanner to your forehead, his jaw clenched so tightly it looks ready to shatter.

He looks down at your pale face, a rare flash of raw fear crossing his eyes before hardening into absolute resolve.

"You hid this from us," Bruce says, his voice dangerously quiet as he hooks an IV into your arm. "You're done, Dick. Comms are confiscated. The Cave is on lockdown. You aren't leaving this bed until I say so."

As your eyes flutter open, the pounding in your head matching the frantic alarms of the Batcave, you find all four of them surrounding your bed.

Jason leans over you, his heavy hands firmly pressing into your shoulders to pin you to the mattress the moment you try to shift. "Don't you dare try to sit up, Dick. You're done. No more patrolling, no more internet, no more playing the martyr. You threw yourself in front of a bomb for us while drowning in this digital garbage? You're locked down. From now on, we go everywhere you go."