Disclaimer: We don't own Batman
Full summary: In the turbulent months after the gassing, Batman comes across an orphan boy by the name of Alvin Draper. He's adopted into the Wayne family, and Bats takes his first step down the road to his future. DickxTim
Warnings: Slash, spoilers, language, and violence
Pairing(s): DickxTim
Fic type: AU, romance
Bizarre speaks: This is a crossover between Batman Begins and DCU Comic!Verse. So, this was our first attempt at Batman anything. We had a harsh and tedious battle over Bruce. He was NOT particularly like himself in Batman Begins. But he was...yet he wasn't...yet. So we tried to find a happy medium. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't.
Aubrey's crap: Hi. I have no internet. Bizarre is in charge.
The Interface
by Bizarre Aubrey
Chapter I: Batarangs
Batman was really beginning to get into this whole 'patrol' thing. He couldn't be everywhere every night, but as long as he rotated, Gotham seemed to be getting better. Rachel would beg to differ, but he would simply ignore her. She whined a lot these days. Apparently without Falcone to direct all her hatred at, she needed a new vent. Tough shit.
He'd called Gordon over his comm. a few minutes ago and hopefully the cops would be here soon. He zip-stripped a couple guys and then began to poke around. This job smelled funny. They were all too well armed for just a drug job. They were a street level gang…and…He had to force open a door. A back room had one teenage boy tied up.
Shit, he thought and moved to check the kid's vitals. This was a kidnapping job? Ransom? Damn it. He cursed a blue streak in his head. The boy made a choked sound, as Batman reached down to cut the gag.
"L-l…" the dark haired boy stuttered. "…behind you," he finally spit out. The Batman turned just in time to get a knife to the shoulder. He knocked the asshole down and then Gordon showed up.
"About time," Batman grumbled. When he turned back, the boy had passed out again. "Gordon, we need an ambulance."
Gordon eyed the kid, then Batman, and he nodded. He went back to his squad car to call the hospital. They dispatched the ambulance shortly thereafter.
Batman watched the unconscious child while he waited for Gordon to return. He wondered whose teenager this was…Batman waited patiently as Gordon barked out orders, and then he slipped into the shadows when the paramedics came to load up the boy. James nearly missed him, but Batman cleared his throat and the lieutenant saw him.
"Good job, Batman," James said quietly, his silly little mustache twitching. "You got any information about the kid though?" He had two little ones of his own at home, he felt his heart clench at the idea of it being one of them taken captive by a band of psychos.
"Not yet." Batman shook his head a little. "We'll ask for his name and information, when he wakes up. It shouldn't be hard to find a residence location."
Gordon lifted his hand as if to clap him on the shoulder, then thought better of it. "Right," he nodded, turning to get back in his car. Batman had never been so grateful in his entire life. That knife had slipped through the seam, right at the joint of shoulder and neck. It hadn't gone in very deep, the Kevlar had put up resistance, like it was supposed to. But, he wasn't going to lie to himself, it stung.
Alfred was going to give him hell over this. He'd have to get home and get his wound taken care of, before he tended to the kid. It would only be conspicuous, if he went into a hospital in his suit. If he went in with his shoulder bleeding, it would be horrifyingly so. No, it would be best if Bruce Wayne went in without any visible signs of injury.
Alfred berated him, as predicted. "Bruises, burns, poisoning, now gashes? How are we going to explain this, Master Bruce?" the old Butler complained as he dressed the wound. Bruce sat in the chair mutely and waited for the end of the rant. It was only when they were headed for the garage that he answered,
"Fencing, Alfred. With live steel."
"Your cheek is not appreciated, Master Bruce," Alfred scowled after him, shoving his hat down onto his head.
"We need to go to the hospital." Bruce veered the conversation away from his scolding. "There was a kid involved in a kidnapping tonight, we need to find his family," the Wayne heir explained, climbing into the backseat.
"Yes, sir," Alfred replied tersely. Bruce took the ride as an opportunity to shut his eyes for a few minutes. Batman and Bruce Wayne, between the two of them there really wasn't enough time to sleep.
When they arrived at the Gotham City Health Center, the woman at the front desk knew exactly who they were looking for. She referred them to a young nurse.
"He hasn't woken up yet, so we still don't know his name," the girl clarified as she led the way. "You wouldn't happen to know who his family is, would you, Mr. Wayne?"
"No," Bruce admitted. "I'm going to try to find out."
She smiled, "It is very kind of you to come down and see him, sir." Bruce felt his head throb. He hoped this woman wasn't cowing to him for his money like so many others.
Alfred, mercifully, interceded. "Everyone needs someone to look after them sometimes," he said with a smile. "Master Bruce knows that better than most."
Her grin widened. "You're right," she concurred, then pushed open the door for them.
The boy was still asleep. In the hospital bed he looked small and peaceful. Bruce watched him for a moment and then sat down in a chair. With his uninjured arm he motioned for Alfred to do the same. His wounded shoulder throbbed unpleasantly.
"Can I get you anything, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, his eyes sliding to the injury. Bruce narrowed his eyes in return because he hated when Alfred fussed in public.
"Oh, I can get you two anything you need," the bright-eyed nurse offered.
"I could use a drink," Bruce said, just to get her to shut up. Alfred's exasperated sigh was nearly audible, nearly. A gentleman's gentleman did not sigh and moan.
"I have a bit of a headache my dear, if it would be at all possible for you to bring me a small package of aspirin?" The butler inquired.
"Of course," she chirped and then bounced off.
"Really, Master Bruce," Alfred reprimanded, sitting down in the chair and leaning back.
Bruce offered him a dry stare. "It isn't as bad as last time," he muttered. Last time he'd been gassed with a hallucinogen, and set on fire. A shallow knife wound to the shoulder was low on the scale of injuries.
As they waited for the fair-haired young woman to return the room was silent but for the beep of equipment.
The soft squeaking of a cart heralded her appearance. She handed over Bruce's drink and the package of aspirin, which Alfred held until she left. The rest of the items on the cart were for the anonymous boy.
"The poor thing is malnourished," she murmured as she hooked up a nutrient bag to his IV. "Must have been there for weeks!"
That made Bruce's brow crinkle. How had he really missed that? Yes, it had been tough to get around during the first few weeks following the gassing. But the idea of some kid sitting helpless for weeks made him furious. He let out a huff of frustration that no one else had a chance of hearing. Bruce took a longer sip of his drink, and waited anxiously for the woman to finish and leave again.
The seven years he'd spent gallivanting around China hadn't prepped him for coming back so suddenly into Gotham's High Society. He wasn't nearly as talented at hiding his emotions as Alfred was.
The nurse paid him no mind and went about her business. After she'd recorded the child's stats she nodded to them amiably and left. Alfred handed over the package of aspirin as soon as the door was shut.
"He looks very young," the man noted.
"Yes," Bruce agreed, popping the pills into his mouth and swallowing them with another drink. "He must have been lonely," Wayne mused in a distracted voice. "Being away from his family for so long."
"I hope he still has a family left," Alfred said in a whisper. It wasn't a far stretch of reality for them to have been killed in the League's attack.
Bruce's expression took on a hint of pain, but he smoothed it out quickly.
"We'll deal with that if it comes up," he decided, slouching in the uncomfortable chair.
Alfred nodded in an absent minded way and kept his mouth shut from there. Perhaps, Bruce would fall asleep in that chair while they waited. God knew the man needed it.
After waiting for nearly an hour, Bruce really felt he didn't have a choice. He was exhausted and the dream world beckoned.
x x x x x
He was having a particularly disturbing vision about tentacles and drowning when his sharp ears caught the child's low murmur.
He was instantly awake. He could see the boy stirring and stood up. Bruce hoped the kid wouldn't have any brain damage so he would be able to answer the questions Bruce wanted to ask.
The boy hissed low in his throat and scooted backwards on the bed. His eyes were open, sharp and blue as they took in the room.
"Where am I?" he said though his tongue was awkward and clumsy in his dry mouth.
"Gotham," Bruce answered. "Gotham Health Center."
The kid stared at him. It was a very harsh look…that just melted away. He was suddenly just a wide-eyed confused teen.
"What happened?" he asked after coughing several times. Alfred stepped forward to offer him a glass of water.
"You were kidnapped." Bruce gave the edited version. "The fine men at our local police force rescued you," he lied smoothly. "If you'll give me your name, I can try to find your home for you."
There were long moments of just gaping. The boy muttered the word 'kidnapped' a few times before getting around to actually answering.
"Draper. I mean, my name. Is Alvin Draper." He shied away from them and Alfred felt his heart wrench in sympathy.
"Alvin Draper," Bruce repeated the name. It didn't sound familiar to him. Maybe the Draper family was local though, and his father (and therefore Alfred by extension) might know them. "Does that sound familiar to you?" he glanced at his butler hopefully.
Alfred seemed just as puzzled, but he didn't show it on his face. "No, Master Bruce, but I have met a great many people in my time."
The boy looked sheepish for a moment before he hesitantly raised a question of his own. "Who are you?" his voice cracked again.
"Bruce Wayne," Bruce made an absent waving motion. "This is my family butler, Alfred Pennyworth," he added, gesturing to his servant and friend.
Alvin made an odd sound and then sunk back down to the bed. Alfred gave the boy a very concerned gaze, but when nothing catastrophic happened, he relaxed.
"Where are you from, Alvin?" he asked in what he knew was a soothing voice. The lad couldn't be from Gotham if he didn't even know who Bruce Wayne was.
"Gotham," Alvin informed him. "Gotham, almost all my life."
Bruce shot the boy a confused look. Maybe he'd been hit in the head or given a very sheltered childhood.
"Where does your family live?" he asked. "We'd be happy to take you home, or bring your parents here, if you give us an address."
"They. No. I don't…" Alvin tilted his head down so his grimy bangs fell over his eyes. "They're dead."
Bruce swallowed harshly. He found his newly grown soft spot for orphans irritating, at best.
"I'm going to see when he's to be discharged." Bruce told Alfred, turning to go find a nurse. He could take the kid home with him. It wasn't as if Wayne Manor wasn't large enough.
Alvin and Alfred stared after him in shock and it seemed as if the boy might protest, but no one said anything.
Bruce headed down the hallway slowly, his own emotions were bubbling. He needed a minute to calm them back down. By the time he found the blonde girl again, he was back to playing the part of Bruce Wayne, playboy-millionaire.
"The boy, Alvin Draper, has finally woken up. He says he's an orphan, so I'll be paying his bill, do you know when he is to be discharged?"
As he said it he began to make a mental list. He'd need to officially take the kid as a ward, he'd have to find a school…Maybe Alfred could do some of this.
"He's awake?" the young woman asked, surprised. She rushed towards the room. "That's wonderful, I mean wonderful. He could go home tomorrow or…" She was babbling, so Bruce tuned her out.
Bruce leaned against the wall, watching her work without interest. He'd inform Alfred and Alvin of his decision, and the boy's release date, once he got rid of her again.
There was a lot of semi-medical mumbo-jumbo thrown around between the nurse and the doctor. Lots of poking and prodding and the kid looked irritated by the end of it.
"Well," the doctor said with a smile. "He'll stay, just tonight, to make sure he stays stable and he can go. Its very kind of you to take care of him, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce tried to smile and failed. "I know."
The grimace of a smile was getting somewhat painful, so he fell silent and just looked at the beaming physician pointedly. Eventually, they left again.
"You'll be coming to Wayne Manor, with me, tomorrow," he announced to Alvin plainly.
The kid nodded, his sullen nature was baffling to Bruce. He didn't want to ask any more questions about it though. His shoulder hurt and Alvin looked tired.
"We'll come get you in the morning, rest up," Bruce managed to be pleasant one last time before he motioned to Alfred.
In the hall, Bruce shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to stem his irritation elsewhere. He wondered, belatedly, just what had possessed him to do that. He decided that he'd just overdosed on empathy, and everything would work out.
"Quite compassionate of you, Master Bruce," Alfred said, giving his employer a questioning look. He didn't press it, he knew his job was the drive the car back to the Manor and make sure Bruce got to bed.
"What can I say?" Bruce drawled, ignoring the blonde nurse's cheerful wave on the way out. "A moment of commiseration overtook me, and it seemed like a good idea." He took a deep breath of the night air, and climbed into the car. "Or, you could blame it on spending too much time underground," he added under his breath, once the car doors were closed.
He couldn't so much see Alfred's smile as hear it. "Of course, sir," he murmured and that was the end of affairs for tonight.
x x x x x
In the morning, Bruce woke up stiff. His arm ached and Alfred was prodding him. He growled and opened one eye to glare at the old butler.
"Rise and shine, Master Bruce," Alfred declared leaving the protein drink on the side table. "We have an appointment to keep." Birds were chirping and the sun was shining and Bruce had to wonder what the fuck they were so cheerful about.
"Did I go binge drinking last night, and not remember?" Bruce wondered, grabbing the protein drink to chug it down.
"No, Master Bruce," Alfred answered as he went to the wardrobe to begin pulling out clothes. "Today you need to check an orphan out of the hospital, then you have a meeting, one with Mr. Fox and another with Mr. Queen from Star City."
"Great," Bruce drew the word out, dropping down to the floor, to do his morning pushups.
"Come now," his butler cheered. "Let's see some enthusiasm," he became very sober after saying this. It was odd enough to make Bruce look up. "Sir, what are you planning on doing about young master Draper?"
"Didn't think that far ahead," Bruce admitted, grimacing a bit. His shoulder wasn't happy with the strain of the pushups. "But, I wasn't sending someone his age to an orphanage."
"Shall I go to the courthouse and see about the legal proceedings?" Alfred inquired, finally deciding on a tie that would be appropriate.
"Yes, thank you, Alfred," Bruce called as he made his way to the shower.
Bruce was pretty sure Alfred could have handled checking the boy out of the hospital all by himself, but he felt the urge to go. If he was going to be taking care of this kid—which he wasn't, it would probably be Alfred's job—he needed to start off on the right foot. Maybe there would be a reporter and he could use this to his advantage.
Besides, it wasn't like he knew anything about raising teenagers. Finding out a bit more about this kid might be a good place to start.
He was still musing to himself as he began to make out a things-to-do list, for the day. When he went to his meeting with Fox, he would need to get the rip in his Batsuit mended. He should also go find Rachel, at some point. She would be able to fill him in on what he was getting himself into.
When they arrived at the health center, Alvin was actually sitting in the waiting room. He was in the far corner, curled up in the shadows, watching the door. Bruce gave Alfred a wary glance. The butler urged him to go over and greet the boy while he got the paperwork.
At Mr. Wayne's approach, the boy unfolded himself, his beaten up sneakers settling on the floor. He plucked at the frayed hem of his shirt.
"You're a mess," Bruce noted with a bemused smile.
"Yeah, I kind of am," Alvin replied. He didn't sound like a street kid. He sounded like he lived a few houses up from the Manor.
Bruce quickly added 'take Alvin shopping' to his mental agenda.
"We'll fix that," Bruce promised aloud. "Alfred or I, or both, depending, will get you some new clothes soon."
"You seem like a busy man, Mr. Wayne," Alvin noted in a whisper. Bruce felt his skin prickle. Everything about this boy screamed street kid. Everything. The way he was so guarded, his haggard appearance, the sharp look in his eyes. But he just so plainly wasn't it was driving Bruce to distraction. "You don't have to go to so much trouble for me."
Alfred approached to have Bruce sign the release form before Bruce could even think to answer.
Bruce didn't say anything more to the boy, until they were in the car again. When they were all comfortably seated, it was time to clear up one very important thing.
"Mr. Wayne was my father," Bruce corrected. "You can call me Bruce, or 'hey you', whatever. Just not that." No one, employees excluded, called him 'Mr. Wayne'.
He felt like scum about saying it in such a harsh tone, because it made Alvin wince. Not so much visibly, but it felt like the kid had recoiled without actually moving.
"Right," the boy mumbled and his eyes were freaky, vivid and intelligent and trained on him intently.
"Right," Bruce echoed.
He wasn't prepared for this. Maybe, in addition to talking to Rachel, he should stop at the library and checkout a book on parenting. Then, another problem occurred to him.
What was he going to do about the fucking Bat Signal? Alvin didn't seemed far from stupid. He was bound to notice something amiss eventually. "Alfred," Bruce mumbled to the older man. "When we get home, we need to decide what to do about the items in the basement." What if Alvin opened the Bat Cave by accident? How was Bruce supposed to explain away sidelining as a, somewhat questionable, superhero?
"Of course, Master Bruce," Alfred nodded and that seemed to be all there was to it. Bruce glimpsed a look at Alvin but the boy gave him a completely blank stare in return.
The car finally halted in front of Wayne Enterprises and Bruce all but jumped out. The kid was going to take some getting used to. Definitely.
"Uh, Alvin is going to need clothes. You two can do that this afternoon right?" he said and jogged up to the building without waiting for an answer. Alvin crawled across the back seat and pulled the door closed.
"Well, young Master Alvin, it seems it is just you and me," Alfred smiled into the review mirror.
"Yeah," the boy said. His mouth twitched a little in what Alfred wanted to think was a smile.
"Welcome to the family."
To Be Continued...