Sooner or later, no matter where you live, you'll come across a baby bird on the ground. You'll have to decide whether you should rescue it or leave it to fend for itself.

-Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife.

The boy stared up at the dark knight, frozen in shock and horror. Clearly he had not been counting on Batman returning before he'd made away with his ill gotten goods. The tire iron is loose in his grip, nearly slipping from his fingers.

"Coming back to the scene of the crime?" he growled, crossing his arms over his chest and looming over the boy. Perhaps he could scare him out of ever doing something like this again. Unlikely, since this was Crime Alley, but he'd rather not have to face this kid when he grew up and became one of the many thugs already around the area.

The kid gulped, but Batman's voice seemed to have snapped him out of his shock, as his next move was to swing the crowbar into the caped crusader's stomach and sprint for the mouth of the alley.

'Great.' Bruce thought to himself, and gave chase.

that the bird actually needs your help. As young birds develop, they soon outgrow the limited space of a nest. The young birds, referred to as "fledglings" or "branchers" this stage, typically leave the nest and move about on the ground and on low branches for a few days before they can fly.

It didn't take much for Gotham's vigilante to catch up to the boy, he's limping and his small stride gives him no advantage. It takes almost nothing to corner him.

"Lemme go!" the boy shouted, thrashing against Batman's hold. He doesn't stand a chance though. Bane himself has not shaken the Batman's grip, there is no way an underfed street kid will.

"You have something that belongs to me." The Bat growls and the kid huffs stubbornly. Bruce resists the urge to sigh.

"Your own fault." The kid mutters. "You shouldn't leave a nice car like that alone in a town like this."

Clearly this is not going to be easy. Batman spins the kid to face him, kneeling to his level. "Where are your parents?" He asks, not unkindly.

He gets a scowl in response. "Gone. Good riddance, who needs 'em? I can take care of myself!"

Underneath the cowl, Bruce lifts a single eyebrow. "Just how old are you?" Even with the malnutrition, the kid can't be more than 13 at he most.

Stubborn silence.

You can't face palm. You're the Batman. Batman doesn't bang his head against the wall in frustration...Where people can see.

"What's your name?" He tries again. The kid is silent, but Batman is the master of uncomfortable silences. He can outlast a thirteen year old.

"...Jason." Come's the sullen answer.

"How old are you." Its not a question this time.

"Ten."

Bruce curses internally. He's not even a teenager. How the hell has no one picked up this kid before?

If you are certain that the mother is dead, or if the baby is hurt or sick (Unable to flutter wings, bleeding, wings drooping unevenly, weak or shivering) or the bird was attacked by a cat or dog, call a wildlife rehabilitator immediately. The longer the delay, the less chance the bird has of surviving.

What convinces him is when the kid-Jason-begins shivering. Its the middle of January and he's stoic, not heartless. With a little glaring, he's gotten his tires back and returned to their rightful place on the Batmobile.

Then, without preamble, he scoops up the boy, intending to plop him into the front seat and drive him to the station. The reaction is instantaneous, and quite frankly, depressing. The moment Jason's feet have left the ground, he's fighting against the Dark Knight. Scratching with small nails and literally sinking his teeth into Kevlar armor. Despite this, Batman easily pushes him into the car, closing the passenger side door and circling around to get in himself.

By the time he gets to the driver's side, Jason has already tested the lock on his side and is crawling over the center console to test the other door. Thankfully, he retreats when Bruce clambers in, pulling back until he's nearly sitting on the door instead of the seat. Silently, the Dark Knight starts the car, pulling on his own seat belt before gruffly ordering Jason to do the same. The boy seems to take this as an invitation to protest as he immediately starts up a curse-filled rant.

"You better let me the fuck out of here, you pedo!" he shouts, hands curling into fists. "I'll beat the shit out of you! You hear me!?"

Batman remains unmoved, pulling out of the alley and onto Gotham's streets. The tirade keeps up until they arrive outside of the GCPD. Presumably, it is uninterrupted by Batman getting out of the car, but Bruce can't hear it as he circles back to the passenger side door. Upon being released from the Batmobile's interior, Jason makes a run for it, but doesn't even get out of the Dark Knight's arm reach before he's contained once again.

Which is why, on that cloudy day, every single member of the Gotham City Police Department looks up to find Batman, Vengeance Personified, the Unmitigated Terror of the Night at their front door, screaming child tucked under one arm.

"...Batman?" Gordon manages to choke out.

you do decide to raise the young bird on its own, please consider the responsibility that you are undertaking. Nestlings must be fed ever 15 to 20 minutes from sunrise to sunset. This obviously requires a large time commitment on the part of the foster parent.

Of course the foster home was a thug factory. Bruce sighed as he clambered out of the Lamborghini, it was Gotham. Everything was corrupt.

Still, he plastered on a smile and walked into the same building he'd been in not three hours ago as Batman. Jason slouched sullenly on a chair next to Gordon's desk, glaring at the room around him.

"Bruce." Jim Gordon greeted him enthusiastically, standing up and shaking his hand.

"Jim." He returned warmly.

"Jason, this is Bruce Wayne, he's offered to take you in." Jim says, trying to get Jason to look up at Bruce.

"Whatever." he says, stubbornly directing his gaze at the worn tiles.

Bruce only smiles. "I know this is very difficult for you Jason, but I'm sure things will turn out alright." He says out loud. I'll make sure they do. He promises internally.

The End.