Yo Whaddup? Here I am, just gonna continue and pretend I didn't just not update for a very long time.

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It felt different, there in that house. At night it was quiet, but the quiet was filled with a rush of darkness. The faint screeching of bats, the old house creaking. There was a distinct lack of life in rest, and it wasn't much better when the sun came up. 

In the house she had bought with Percy, it felt like a home right off the bat. It was the kind of place a person could raise a family. They were already a family. In this house, it has an air to it. It has the potential to become a home, but it's immovable, still. You don't mold the house to you to make it a home, you mold to it. She was an architect, and was well aware that buildings can give you different feelings like they were living. 

Maybe that was the difference. The other house was wood frame with the life inside, but this house was living carrying creatures that couldn't always be called alive. Physically alive, yes, but she had learned better than to think that places couldn't hold their own magic. 

Looking at the little boy Bruce had driven into the cave with, looking at the walls of the Batcave with unconcealed wonder, it wasn't that hard to figure out that he fit the mold. Horrible childhood, a little bit crazy, an obsession, and most importantly, an affinity for black. He was alive, physically, but that was the only way. In other ways he was already six feet under like the rest of them.

She looked to Bruce, the corner of her mouth twitching, the boy couldn't see him, but he barely hid exasperation. She could tell that the boy would be good for him. Really, anything would be good for him. Nothing but the way it had been going for him, them. Chained in their grief like Prometheus was chained to a rock, birds slowly eating his entrails. The way they were going, it felt as if she was dying everyday, and she felt like it was even justified to feel like dying. 

Maybe if the birds took enough she would be right along with Percy.

She squeezed her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts and instead focused on the boy in front of her, Tim Drake. His discerning eyes locking on to hers, all she could think is, 'Gods, he's so much like Bruce'. A quiet disposition that at a turn could then demand all attention. 

"Third ones the charm B." She tilted her head in her brothers direction. She wasn't judgmental, though. She's sure she would have brought this strange boy home all the same as him, she felt that urge to mother him already, something she hadn't expirenced in a long time. "Shall I get Alfred to set up a room in the manor?" 

After giving her a stern look of 'really?' , he nodded and motioned her to give them a moment to talk. 

"It's nice to meet you, Tim, I'm sure well be better acquainted in the morning."

"I'm staying the night? I don't want to intrude, really, it's fine. I'm outside by myself all the time, I can get home okay." Tim rambled, twisting his fingers in his shirt. Bruce looked down at him, looming

"You're staying." Tim straightened.

"Okay Mr. Batman." 

Bruce turned to her and began the process of taking of his gauntlets, "Contact Alfred." 

 She gave Bruce a tiny glare but nodded anyway. She knew a dismissal when she saw one, so she turned on her heel and walked to the elevator. Turning around to press the button, she saw him kneel in front of the little boy and put a hand on his shoulder. She smirked.

From the way she saw it, Bruce was already that boy's father. He really needed help to stop adulting kids. 

---

Tim was at the breakfast table when she dragged herself out of bed, chugging coffee like he was already a permanent fixture in the house. Alfred had made Bruce his unhealthily healthy shake monstrosity, but he had taken pity on the small boy and had settled on normal bacon and eggs. Though, he did waver disapprovingly at the consumption of caffeine. Tim probably wouldn't have gotten up any other way from the way he still looked like he was pulled fresh from the grave, bags under his eyes and all.  

"Caffeine stunts growth short stack, hope you figure that out before you grow a dependency." She plopped down in a stool next to him, gripping the cup Alfred had just made for her. 

Tim looked over the rim of his mug, looking slightly more alive than he had a couple of minuets ago. "Too late."

She grinned. "I'll drink to that." She threw her mug back in a long sip. 

Bruce grimaced, like a always did when looking at her, like he was remembering just how horrible she had been when she was seven and deliberately annoying. "Be a responsible adult and don't encourage his coffee addiction."

"Hey I've been a responsible adult since I was 12, I can afford to be the cool aunt for a bit." 

Tim looked confused. "You wouldn't be my Aunt, Bruce isn't my dad. " He puffed out his chest, defensive.  "I have a dad."

She glanced at Bruce. "And that's probably the only thing holding him back."

She ignored Bruce's offended 'hey!' and stared at Tim while he silently processed what she just said. 

Maybe he didn't perceive Bruce's obvious fatherly actions as anything but the overbearing Batman. She knew better though, her brother was a giant mother hen and she had been at the receiving end of him until he had left camp for good to go galivanting across Europe. Perhaps he couldn't tell because he didn't have a good father figure. She narrowed her eyes. 

She took a sip of her coffee as casually as possible. "Won't your parents be worried that you didn't come home last night?"

Bruce tensed but didn't say anything, letting Tim answer that for himself. The boy in question wrung his hands. 

"Uh, no. There not around much." Bruce nodded, to himself, like he was pretending that he wasn't about to adopt the boy. "But it's fine! I can take care of myself, really. Ask anyone who knows me, I'm really responsible."

Tim looked nervous, no doubt about to make an argument for them not to call CPS. He'd obviously had to do so before. He had probably made a PowerPoint to go along with the lecture. 

She made eye contact with Bruce, silently communicating her intent. They were both thinking the same thing anyway. 

"Well if your parents aren't home, then they should have no issues with you staying with us. I mean, surely you wouldn't want to stay in an old drafty house alone, I certainly wouldn't." Tim froze, even more confused then when they had started the conversation. She didn't blame him, she had that effect on people. 

Tim's eyes darted to Bruce, questioning. Bruce nodding to him, she could she him restraining the urge to hug the boy. 

"I couldn't I told you, I can take care of myself." Tim's face hardened. "I'm not some invalid, I get perfect grades, I can cook my own meals. I don't need to be babied."

"Tim, I'm fully aware you can take care of yourself." She placed her hand atop his, her eyes softening. "But you shouldn't have to."

"It's not your job to take of me."

"It's not Bruce's job to run across rooftops and beat up criminals, yet here we are." 

They stared at each other unmoving for a moment before Bruce's voice broke in. 

"How about a compromise, a trial run. Tim stays with us for a week, and if he wants to stay he gets to start training at Robin." 

It was silent for a moment before Tim whipped around to look at him, shocked. "You said no last night, what made you change your mind?"

Bruce sipped from his health monstrosity while he deliberated an answer. "I suppose I had a nights rest to think. You want to be Robin so much that you stalked me for four years, that shows some dedication."

Tim sat frozen, staring at him, chin jutted upwards. He blinked, brows furrowed. "Batman needs a Robin. You said that you didn't need a Robin, what changed?"

Bruce sat his cup down, sighing. "It's an interesting theory, that Batman needs a Robin. I think you wrong though." Tim bristled. "Batman doesn't need a Robin, but Gotham does."

Tim opened his mouth, once again confused. "What do you mean?"

"I don't need anything, but Gotham, to survive, needs a light to her darkness. One that you wish to fulfill." Bruce sat back in his chair, folding his hands. "But should also have a home where you aren't alone while fulfilling that role."

She couldn't say that she was surprised that Bruce had offered Robin, but something didn't sit right with her. She felt that putting a child in that suit was a one way trip to pain and misery. She had seen the scars on Bruce's back like the ones on her own. She supposed the world was paved on child soldiers, or the only ones young enough to die for what they believed in. 

Tim, to both her great horror and pride, sat up in his chair and glared up at Bruce, saying "I accept your terms."

She knew that Tim had to be something fated, with how perfectly he fit. The only problem? Fate, in most ways, was not in her favor.