Chapter Text
Bruce
Exhaustion sunk deep into his bones as he leaned heavily against the elevator wall. The elevator creaked harshly as it shook itself up to the first floor of Wayne Manor. With each inch going up, the elevator left behind the horrid night Bruce left behind. His body ached physically and mentally. It felt like every criminal in Gotham had escaped Arkham and decided to prowl last night.
He huffs with annoyance when he admits to himself that this in fact was the case. A year ago today the Joker released what felt like every hard caught criminal from Arkham. Bruce rubs his sunken eyes with his thumb and pointer finger as lays his head back against the elevator wall.
Hopefully, he thinks to himself, he can get much earned sleep. Insomnia and nightmares fought him every morning but at this point he was perfectly okay drugging himself to sleep. Maybe he can keep his talk with Alfred quick, he pondered. Bruce had already cleaned up any bruises and cuts that Alfred could possibly fuss over.
He blinked his eyes into focus as the elevator settled to a stop and prepped to open the doors. His thoughts were eating away at him. Something was happening in Gotham behind the scenes. He knew something was happening. The crime was becoming too organized. It wasn't just petty thefts, drug deals, and robberies. Whispers and talks were going around Gotham. The thugs were getting bigger it felt like. One hit him with a block of concrete last night.
He shook the migraine building in his head. With a wince, he reminded himself to get some pain killers for that. Can't feel it when I'm knocked out, Bruce contemplates with another wishful thought towards sleep.
The old elevator shaft doors slide open to reveal a stern faced Alfred. Bruce freezes before taking a step out of the elevator. He knew that face. He had been avoiding his business side for a week now and it looked like Alfred was not going to let him go this time.
"Yes, Alfred?" Bruce asks while trying to side step around him. Alfred was not budging.
"Sir, I have been trying to talk to you for weeks about this meeting. It's rather important." Alfred says, "This cannot wait any longer."
Bruce was quick to dismiss him, "Whatever it is can wait until after I've slept away this migraine. I've been busy with the entirety of Gotham's criminal system."
The Dark Knight managed to slip past Alfred and start down the hall to his room. Alfred followed close behind as the grandfather clock closed over the secret passage. "Sir, I need you to listen to me this instant. I've pushed back every meeting I can but unfortunately today is the day you meet her. I've already prepared her room but as her foster father you-"
Bruce froze for the second time. He turned to face Alfred with sleep all but forgotten in his mind. "Alfred, what are you talking about? Who is 'her' and why are you referring to me as a foster father?"
Alfred stops just in front of Bruce's towering figure. Shock blooms across Alfred's face. "Oh dear, you don't remember, do you?"
Bruce takes a step forward towards Alfred. "Alfred, what don't I remember? Who is her?" Bruce demands to know, starting to like where this conversation was going. He narrows his eyes when Alfred looks away from him to look at the manor's entryway clock that hung below them.
Alfred brings his gloved hand up to his chin to tap it in thought. "Your foster daughter, Mr. Wayne. You signed the papers for her last month." He admits. His eyes turned to evaluate Bruce's reaction.
Bruce's eyes widened in shock and rage. "My what? Alfred, I didn't sign any paperwork for any child! I'm not even thirty yet and if you haven't noticed, I'm never home!" Bruce hisses, trying not to yell at his pseudo father.
"Actually, sir," Alfred produces a paper from his jacket, and hands it to the soon to be father, "you signed right there at the bottom a month ago. A home check has already been done and you've been approved for a child, more specifically a daughter, to be placed in your care. Today is that day."
Bruce stared down at the piece of paper in his bruised hands. There at the very bottom was his neat CEO signature that every business man knew as Bruce Wayne, the orphan billionaire. His palms grew incredibly sweaty as his heart dropped into his stomach. The large logo at the top of the paper read very clearly as Gotham Adoption Center.
His jaw dropped open and closed before opening again. He felt like a fish out of water. "Alfred, how the hell am I supposed to foster a child? Do you know how hard it is to raise a child?" He snaps, looking up desperately at Alfred.
Alfred smiles thoughtfully as glee fills the old man's eyes. "Believe it or not, I have done my time taking care of a child and a very spoiled one at that. Besides, I believe it will do you and your bad boy reputation some good. Although, if you read the papers, it says this girl is more than capable of taking care of herself." Alfred replies, pointing to a part of the paper that Bruce doesn't even glance at because he's already turning away grumbling.
"I'm going to get dressed in something decent for her arrival but this is a mistake and I'm going to prove that to the social worker, Alfred." He calls over his shoulder as he heads down the hall to his room.
Alfred chuckles and calls after him, "We shall see about that."
Kaine
A weary sick feeling had settled in her stomach and had not left since she had gotten put in the back seat of this dingy little car the social worker was driving. Her forehead pressed against the window glass as she watched the trees fly past with each silent second in the car.
The radio, as the social worker discovered, could only be set to one station and it was GCN. It droned on and on about the political stance of the mayor. The news anchor was ripping him to shreds for the recent rise in crime and for relying on a masked vigilante to take care of the mayor's mess that was brought on in the past year.
Kaine only half listened but her raging thoughts quelled anything from being truly absorbed. She had the worst luck when it came to being fostered. This being the fifth time being relocated by force. They had finally found someone, hopefully, not insane. Hopefully, they weren't drug dealers like the first one.
Kaine thinks of the perfect little family that she loved so wholeheartedly only to walk in on them stuffing her toys with coke while discussing their new found pregnancy. With a grimace, she dismisses them from her thoughts like they did to her by the end of that night.
She instead thinks of the second house. Empty and bare when she walked in. The social worker dumped her on the front step and left. She had to steal to feed herself for months, maybe even a year, before anyone discovered her situation. Kaine thought of this house fondly despite the empty house. Nobody hurt her. She got gifts every now and then. The bills were paid so she had lights and water. It wasn't terrible but definitely not an eight years old's dream home.
They said the third time was a charm, and Kaine truly felt that when she met her third foster family. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she thought of the smiling doctors that fostered her a few years ago. They had been so kind up until the door shut. Her lungs burned at the thought of them. She felt her blood pressure rising as panic bubbled to the surface. Breathe in... Breathe out... She reminded herself as her nails scratched at the jean fabric on her knees.
They are gone, she chanted in her head. Gone and you are still standing, she pressed her forehead firmly against the window again to feel the chill glass against her skin. Just barely, she mused as she tugged her long sleeve over her tanned hands that were littered in pearly white stripes from scars long since healed.
Her mind hovered over her last home and quickly turned away. Finally, a perfect home away from Gotham, only for her to be thrown in a car right after putting her foster mom in the ground. Her eyes watered briefly but she wiped them away quickly with the ends of her sleeves.
The car turned on to a gravel road causing Kaine to perk up in curiosity. She blew a dark curl out of her eyes and sat up alert to stare out the window. This new home had been hush hush the entire time she was in the halfway house. The papers had been signed almost immediately. Whoever they were, they were first time fosters. The agency kept tight-lipped about the rest of the information. How many kids did they have? Were they a couple or single? Was the home real? Nothing in response. Just vitamins that did nothing to her and a shove towards her shared room with twenty other teenagers.
The fosters never arrived at the meet up that was held before moving in. They only managed to get a fit for fostering check up done but the rest was all canceled. All of which was never reasoned with Kaine. The agency just... accepted this.
It worried Kaine and gave her a horrible first impression. What if they looked at her and threw her back in the system? Most people were startled at seeing her for the first time. It wasn't her personality per say. She had learned to be quiet and keep to herself after years of sharing rooms with a small army. It was the jagged puffy white scar lining her neck that made almost everyone she met in the past nine months queasy.
When Kaine first joined the system, it was because she was found as a newborn in the trash with her throat slit. Her hand flitted to the scar just under her chin, grasping it with her palm. She could feel her erratic heartbeat under her skin. Her fingertips cool against her warmed scarred skin. Her eyes never left the wrought iron gates they passed through as she wished she could will her scar away.
Maybe this one will be it, Kaine hoped with all her might. Well, if it isn't, it's not like I have much time left anyway, I'm a year and a couple months away from eighteen, Kaine dejectedly reasoned with herself. A sigh escapes her lips as the car pulls up to a round about manned by a huge stone fountain.
Kaine's eyes widened as the stone mansion pulled into her view. "Holy shit." She mutters in disbelief.
Her fear once again overwhelmed her. A rich family, of fucking course. Her doll face and curled black hair always brought attention because of how pretty it was. It made for a perfect child to form. Quiet, beautiful, obedient. Is that what this family wanted? Could the mother not have a child? Was she going to be formed into something else again? Something that she wasn't? Kaine fretted as the car came to a stop.
The click of her seatbelt alerted her to her own movement as her shaking hands set aside the one thing holding her in the car still. She shook as the social worker got out of the car after popping the trunk. Kaine took a deep relaxing breath and held it until the pain of being without oxygen made her release it. The social worker opened Kaine's car door and waited with Kaine's trash bag of belongings. It looked pathetic in her perfectly manicured nails. It was light enough to toss over Kaine's shoulder.
Kaine reaches to her side and grabs her backpack. With a quick tug, she slings it over her shoulder and pulls herself out of the car. It wasn't her safe haven anymore.
The lady, though she never spoke a word to her, gave her a sympathetic smile before handing her the trash bag. Kaine stared at it and then the social worker. She reached up to pull her hoodie over her head before taking the bag and returning the smile with a nod.
The lady closed the car door and walked around the car back to the driver seat. She didn't even turn back to look at Kaine when she drove away. Kaine checked.
With a huff, Kaine muttered, "Goodbye to you too."
Kaine turned to look back at the steps to the mansion. It led to a huge iron door with an old fashion knocker and house crest labeled 'WM'. Despite how old fashioned the house was, there was a doorbell. Kaine didn't move from her spot on the gravel path. She stared at the door and then glanced to her left. Trees circled the house. She had driven past them. She knew they went on for a few miles. It wasn't a lot but it was enough to hide in. She could run. I've done it before, she reasoned to herself.
Run. She tells herself.
Her feet move on the gravel.
First step.
Second step.
Third step.
Her finger lifted and hesitated on the doorbell before pushing it.
The sound rings across the yard and what feels like all across Gotham. A beautiful chord from Beethoven that alerted this family she was here.
Her eyes widened as she thought about what she did with great stupidity. She turned on her shoes worn heels in hopes to run but she had no such luck. As soon as she had turned her back to the door, it was pulled open to reveal an older man dressed in the nicest tuxedo suit Kaine had ever laid her eyes on.
"Not planning on running away now, are we dear?" the kind and surprisingly strong British voices questioned her as she looked back at him. She cringes and turns completely around to face him while shaking her head.
He laughs brightly and holds a hand out to her, "You must be Miss Kaine. It's a pleasure to finally have you here at Wayne Manor."
Kaine stared down at his hand and shuffled on her feet a bit before setting her trash bag down to shake his hand. It was soft to the touch. Her hand gently shook his hand before quickly dropping. If Alfred saw her sleeve ride up, he didn't say anything. He smiled kindly and gestured to her items. "Let me help you get the rest of your things inside. Where are they?"
Her eyes blink a few times before she nervously grabs her trash bags again and shrugs. Alfred seemed to catch on. "Well, no one deserves to be out here in the cold. Would you like me to take those bags?" he asks as he steps aside to let her in.
Kaine shakes her head as she toes the line of the door. Her hands tightened around the bags as she looked down at her shoes. Alfred watched her intently before softly saying, "Miss, there is nothing to fear here."
With those words, Kaine's head shot up to look at him. No, she wasn't afraid. She wouldn't be afraid. Not any longer. She squares her shoulders while looking Alfred in the eyes and takes a step across the line of the door. Before Kaine could change her mind, Alfred decided to close the door with a pleased smile.
"I am Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of Wayne Manor. You can call me sir, or Alfred, whichever please you." He tells her as he takes a step back away from her and the door to give her space. Kaine didn't realize how stiff her body was until she took in the look of concern on Alfred's face when she never bothered to reply to him.
"You have no reason to be scared here. I know that's not the best thing to say to relieve you but you'll see with time that this is the safest place you can be." Alfred tells her before perking when her body loosens up and relaxes. He claps with glee and says, "Alright my dear, let's get you to your room."
It took everything in Kaine not to jump at the noise of his clap. Alfred didn't seem to notice but she still tried to play it cool as she followed the older man towards the grand staircase directly in front of them. Once they hit the top of the extravagant staircase, they turned to the left side of the house and then made another turn.
Kaine felt out of her depth at how big this house was. She tried to take every detail in that she passed. The grand paintings, and most likely expensive decorations that looked to be one of a kind heirlooms littered the hallway Alfred walked her down. They stop in front of a black oak door. Alfred offers the doorknob to Kaine with a wave of his hand.
She hesitates, glancing at him with wide brown eyes. Her scarred hand reached forward towards the doorknob before stopping an inch away. Alfred watched with a close eye. He wasn't blind. He could see her fright. He could see her scars on her hands like her hands had been stuffed with broken glass. He could sense her shaking form when he stood just an inch too close. But something was still left burning inside of her, and that something pushed her forward to lean forward and twist the door handle. Alfred knew it. She was going to love it here.
The gasp that left her throat was the first noise he had heard from her. It was a light little sound but it held weight. A simple room with a plain king-size four poster bed and a dresser pushed in the corner had her in awe. Alfred wished he could've added more to the room but other than the changing board in the back of the room, he hadn't known what she would want.
Her eyes told another story. It said that this was more than she had ever had in her life. The wide floor to ceiling windows held Kaine's attention but she quickly moved on to consume every other sight she could. The ancient oak rafters in the vaulted ceilings. There was artwork across the walls but nothing too crazy. If anything, it added to the theatrics of the room.
Kaine choked on a cough, and stepped inside to do a full circle. With her head tilted up to take in everything, her hood fell back and bared her throat to Alfred. His eyes widened at the cruel scarring lining her throat from ear to ear. He knew what the scar must've come from. Before she could see his reaction, he controlled his features as she brought her eyes down to him.
Her mouth worked as she tried to find the words and then she finally stumbled out, "This-"
She shut her mouth before trying again as Alfred waited patiently. "T-t-this is m-m-meh-ine?" She stuttered out. Alfred nodded encouragingly.
"Of course! I do apologize for the state of the room. I didn't quite know how to decorate for youngsters like you. I am sure Master Wayne will let you decorate it when you settle in." Alfred says to her. She nods and looks around pleased.
A deep voice comes from behind her, "Decorate what?"
Kaine jumps in surprise, whirling around, and dropping her bags in fight or flight.
Alfred brings his hands up like he's soothing a wild animal. He gently nods to her to assure her nothing is wrong as he responds to his ward, "Ah, Master Wayne, you arrived just in time to meet Miss Kaine. We were just discussing the room she was settling in. Well, I was actually the one talking about the room."
Kaine's cheeks flush red at the statement. She hadn't meant to be so quiet. It was a habit. A safe habit that kept her calm.
"We will see about her settling in and decorating. First, I would like to meet h-," the voice cut off when the owner turned into the room and spotted Kaine. She stood and stared at him stiffly.
She was not what she imagined. She imagines him old, married, and scrawny. No. He was nothing of the sort. He was the kind of guy woman described to Kaine as tall, dark, and handsome. He didn't look like the owner of a fucking mansion. He looked like a frat boy that lost his way home or a model that they hired to prank Kaine. He towered over her by a good foot and a half. His bright blue eyes pinned her down to her spot.
Kaine reverted back to her survival instincts. Stay still. Keep quiet. He looked calm but she could see the raw shock, disbelief, and anger in his eyes. Oh shit there was anger. Kaine took a small step back at the realization.
Alfred touches the man's arm to wake him from his state. He blinks and smiles a wide plastic grin at Kaine. It does nothing at all to ease the nervous rock that made itself known in her stomach. She could throw up at the sight of it. She had seen enough fake smiles to know that he was trying to fool her with this one.
"Hello, you must be... Kaine. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm- well I'm sure you know who I am." He says smoothly. Kaine noted that he hesitated on her name. He didn't know it and she was sure of it. But that was fine, she didn't know him. She shook her head in two quick motions.
He furrowed his eyebrows. Wrong answer, her thoughts chanted in her head. She hesitated. "My name is Bruce Wayne." He says, giving her a curious once over.
She nods her head in a hello. Please be the right move, she begs her psyche. Bruce seems to accept this movement and nods back before he turns to depart with a quick, "Alfred, come with me."
Alfred turns to Kaine one last time and says, "Dinner is at six. I'll come to get you. Come find me if you need anything before then." He leaves with a quick turn to follow his ward.