AN/ So we all have had our fill of DC lately and how crappy they are to our babies sometimes. Don't disagree, we've all been there. But the one thing that has bugged me so much was what has happened to the boys and their stuff when Bruce wakes up again. But he doesn't remember the boys. So this happened.

Disclaimer: If I had ever owned Batman, I would not have just kicked the boys to the curb and left them to the rain and the villains. We'd also get a whole lots more Daddy!Bats. so no, I do not own these. I probably never will.

The First

Wayne Manor

The man walked past the hallways of doors next to his room for days before he got the urge to even figure out why they were always locked. The manor contained countless other empty rooms- were these any different? Alfred didn't close the doors to the others, so why did the man lock those?

The rather normal oak doors sat locked for more days after that, awaiting the return of those that lived in them. Occupants that Bruce never saw nor knew. None entered but Alfred on his daily cleanings. The items inside were just the same as always.

It was a Saturday morning that the first was cracked open. The birds outside were chirping and it was a rather beautiful and cheerful day. Even the harsh wind had gentled to something no one could describe, except….

Playful.

Bruce didn't think any of it when he had picked this room-

it was merely the one closest to his bedroom. His hand gripped the knob and swung the door inwards.

Inside, it was not just another empty guest room Bruce saw. This room had been lived in, and quite recently too.

On the floor lay several piles of clothes. Which ones were clean or dirty, was anyone's guess. The older man could just hear Alfred's scolding voice in the background as he looked around. The walls were decorated with a 'Haly's Circus' posters. The one that was displayed the most proudly sat above the queen-sized bed. On it were three acrobats dressed in blue and stylized wings on their costumes. Their name were the Flying Graysons.

On the unmade bed sat an array of papers like the owner had been busy studying. Several stacks of college course books were made into a bedside table as well. A basketball sat on top of them. There was a desk in the room as well. It had been littered with papers and books alike.

Looking around, Bruce wondered again what had happened to the owner of this room. It was so vibrant and happy but underneath all of that, was the sense that this was someone who he should know as important. A Room that looked like someone who had been loved, lived here. A person who was almost grown, but not yet ready to leave the nest just yet. A fledging really. The man didn't know what, nor have a clue. And that was what bugged him the most.

Bruce closed his eyes painfully, as he forced himself to remember but he still could not. Giving up, the older man's hand left the handle of the door and made its journey softly across the textbooks. On the dresser were pictures. Growing curious, Bruce picked one up, but the people in it weren't familiar. There were four boys and three girls. All the boys were laughing at something, while the blonde in the picture glared furiously as she was wiping something off her face. In the background were two more ebony haired girls. Smiles graced both of their lips, even if they were a little mischievous.

"Who are you? I must have known." Bruce's voice echoed within the empty memorial.

Scattered throughout the other pictures were the same seven kids, varying through the years. Most of them were happy, but there were several that were sadder. The pictures perfectly caught each personality of it's subject, most of all-

The pictures showed how loved and happy they all were.

Together.

The man sat the picture down beside the others and continued his search in finding out what his brain had decided to forget. On the wall beside the window, there hung an autographed Superman poster. Just seeing it, Bruce felt mild irritation. The billionaire didn't know why, but he felt like there could have been something better to hang there. Beside it, the window seat had been covered in pillows and blankets alike. A warm comforting place for people to sit together.

'A Nest, Bruce. All birds make nests.'

A voice seemed to echo in the heavy air. The voice was not one Wayne recognized but there was a definite laughter to the tone. It just reinforced his belief that he had lost something very important.

The man pulled himself from his thoughts when he saw a picture of a younger him with two other boys. The similarities between the three stopped Bruce in his tracks. Their faces were alike! They all had those unmistakable blue eyes and black hair, just like him. The elder boy had a grin splitting his face as he draped his body around the other two, facing into the camera.

The younger- he had a scowl, and arms crossed, but peaking out from underneath the look he was giving the elder; Bruce saw was a hidden smile. His brilliant steel blue eyes held such warmth and energy in them as he looked at the older two.

And Bruce? The young version of himself; was happy. He was laughing, clutching the two to himself as the younger looked ready to tackle the elder.

With a gasp, Bruce fell to the floor, closing his eyes.

Why couldn't he remember? These children must have been important to him! But how, dammit?! How were they so special?'