Immediately after turning the corner, Bruce was met with the barrel of a gun. He wasn't scared. He had faced many unruly thugs who used that as their weapon of choice. He even had several scars from the several bullet holes that had been punched into his body. He knew what to expect, as did Tim and Damian.

"Give me your wallet!" The man holding the gun says.

The man holding the gun was dirty. His face was unshaven and his eyes drooped low from lack of sleep. His clothes hung off of his sickly thin frame as they were many sizes too big. His brown leather belt the only thing keeping his pants from falling man's nails were crusted with dirt and his hands were shaking. Whether is was from anxiety or drugs, Bruce couldn't tell.

"I know you, you're that billionaire, right? Better not be stingy with the money, pal." The gunman urged, shoving the barrel of the gun against Bruce's chest roughly.

Suddenly, a small hand was grasping at the back of his pant leg. It hit him just then that he wasn't the only one in danger. While Tim and Damian could probably take care of themselves, Evie certainly could not. He glanced back over his shoulder to catch the uncensored fear in her bright blue eyes. Evie's shoulders trembled as her small hand fisted the fabric of Bruce's dress pants. He wouldn't let her get hurt. He would take care of this thug.

Bruce brought a hand up under the barrel of the gun swiftly, knocking the gunman's aim off. This startled the man and he fired, the bullet whizzing past the billionaire and lodging itself into the brick wall of a nearby building.

"Mr. Wayne!"

The voice shook him. To her, it seemed as if he was being reckless and she was scared for him. The fearful look in her eyes made her eyes watery, and in turn reflected the shine of the moon. Bruce knew that look very well. It was the same terrified expression he wore the night his parents died. He froze, unknowingly giving the gunman an opportunity to fire. Bruce felt the bullet pierce through his abdomen first before he felt his own warm blood gush from the wound. Hands instinctively went to try and cover the wound, to put pressure on it.

"Shit." The gunman said under his breath.

Realizing the drasticness of what he had done, the gunman fled. Bruce's breath came out in shallow pants as he collapsed to his knees. He had been shot before, many times in fact, but the pain always managed to leave him in shock. He gasped for air, lungs seeming not to get enough oxygen.

"Drake, call an ambulance!" Damian urged.

Tim, flustered, reached into his pant pocket to whip out his cell phone. The police were quickly phoned. Damian had Bruce lay on his back in hopes of letting gravity stop the blood flow from being so heavy. Shaking and crying, Evie ran to Bruce's side. She placed her trembling hands over Damian's, shivering at the contrast between Bruce's warm blood and the chilly night air. The gravely floor in the alleyway hurt Evie's knees as she crouched besides the dark haired billionaire. The little rocks broken up from the uneven black top dug into her skin, but she was far more worried about the pain Bruce was in at the moment. Her vision blurred as tears rolled down her cheeks endlessly.

"Evie," Damian said sternly. "Push down hard with me. We need more pressure."

Tim was still relaying information to the police and at some point had informed them that an ambulance would be arriving soon, but Evie seemed a little out of it and her reaction time was slowed. She nodded, hearing Damian's orders after the moment it took her brain to process the information, shifting up on her heels to help put more of her body weight on the wound. Bruce was cursing under his breath and practically unconscious at this point. But a sudden flash of green light caught Damian's attention.

That was not the siren light of an ambulance. Damian glanced down at his hands, a warmth coming from on top of them. It wasn't like the slippery warmth from Bruce's blood, but a comforting one. A kind of comfort that comes from waking up on a winter morning wrapped in soft blankets. Damian felt the green light between his fingers, gently cascading over the wound. His gaze shifted to Evie as he followed the source of the light; it was coming from her hands. Evie's raven black air was whipping back and forth gently to some unseen force that only seemed to surround her. Almost like magic, the blood stopped flowing and fear started to recede. Bruce had fallen unconscious at this point, but his breathing was now steady. Like its job was done, the light started to fade back into Evie's hands. When she lifted her hands away, the bullet wound had been closed and the only evidence that the incident even happened was the pool of blood under Bruce, which was starting to cool from the chilly winter air.

Clink!

A crunched up bullet fell from Evie's still trembling hands. Before anyone could bring up the strange happenings around Evie, the ambulance pulled around the corner. The back doors burst open and two EMT's came barreling out with a stretcher in tow. Tim relayed information to the paramedics, medical history and blood type. Damian followed Tim into the back of the ambulance, who had taken a spaced out Evie by the hand with him. The whole gang met up at Gotham General Hospital after Tim made a call using a pay phone in the lobby.

Dick was the first to arrive with Alfred. He made quite the scene, fussing over the younger bat kids to see if they had any injuries. Everyone heard Jason arrive when he practically crashed his motorcycle into the side of the hospital. Once Dick explained to Jason that no one was hurt, he was just about ready to hurl the gunman into the sun. While the Batfam was busy talking about what was going to happen next or even if Bruce had an Advanced Directive in case he were to go into surgery, Evie sat quietly in one of the seats in the back of the waiting room. Her knees were pulled into her chest and her head was in her arms. Off to the side, Damian was sending a suspicious glare in Evie's direction. Dick noticed and shifted to block Damian's view.

"Come on, let's all sit down. It won't do anyone any good to just stand here." Dick said, guiding Damian by the shoulders into a chair.

Jason took a corner chair and tilted it back until he would nearly fall over. He claimed to be in perfect control and told Dick to quit being such a worry wart when he made a comment about it. Alfred sat next to Evie, trying to strike up conversation. But she seemed despondent and didn't really respond.

"Evie," Damian said sternly.

The stern tone had Evie snapping to attention. Worried blue eyes locked with Damian before falling back to the floor in shame. And with the way he had called to her, now the whole Batfam was curious as to what he had to say.

"What did you do to Father?" He asked bluntly.

"She couldn't have done anything, Damian. She didn't fire the gun." Dick tried to reason, not knowing what he was referring to.

"That's not what I'm talking about. You took the bullet out of him. But I watched you. I didn't see you move. Explain yourself." Damian insisted, standing up from his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

Now all eyes were locked on Evie. Evie started to play with the hem of her skirt, clearly trying to work out what she was going to say. She was silent for just a moment more before she finally gathered the courage to speak up.

"I'm sorry…" Evie said, in a voice just above a whisper. "I can't control it when I'm scared."

This got everyone's attention now. Even Jason, who was only half paying attention before since he was rocking his chair back and forth.

"What is it?" Dick inquired.

Evie bit her bottom lip, as if considering if she should tell them or not.

"I saw you, Evie. You can't hide it now." Damian said, taking his seat back so Jason couldn't use it as a footrest.

"I have a… Well, they called it a gift. The people at the orphanage, that is. Sometimes, I can help people who get hurt. Like when Mr. Wayne was shot, I was scared he would die and… it just happened. But it's not always healing people. When… when I'm scared someone will hurt me, I can give my injury to them." Evie tried to explain.

"So, you have superpowers?" Jason tried to clarify.

"I guess. But not like Superman or anything. I can't fly or see through walls." Evie stated. "I can't control it either. It only happens when I'm scared."

The group was silent for a moment, as if thinking collectively how to respond to having the information dumped on them. The idea wasn't so farfetched, as many people nowadays had superpowers thanks to the mutation of metagene.

"You are forgiven this time, Evie." Damian says after a moment of heavy silence.

He's still wearing a spiteful expression, but his attitude has become more docile.

"I don't like not knowing. It impedes my ability to assess a situation properly." He said after a moment. "You will do my chore shift this week as punishment."

Evie seemed tense, as if she was bracing herself for the rejection. But unbeknownst to her, she was in the presence of a family of vigilantes where superpowers were a common occurrence. The moment Damian seemed to sentence her to a week of chores rather than condemning her to leave and never come back, her shoulders slumped with relief. She offered Damian a smile and nodded. Alfred, who seemed to be on the verge of having a heart attack, was finally able to calm his nerves. And Dick and Jason, who had been getting ready to pull the two apart, could sniffed, seemingly pleased with himself, turned back to glaring at the front desk ladies, who had been watching them the whole time.

But just then, the doors to the emergency room slid open and someone walked in. Not staff or a patient, but Talia Al Ghul herself. The Batfam went silent, everyone's stance becoming defensive, as if preparing themselves for a fight. Damian was the first to speak up.

"Mother," He said, as he turned to her. "What business do you have here?"

"I heard some rumors that my beloved might be in the hospital." She explained casually, feigned worry.

It's clear that none of the Batfam were buying her shtick and they stayed silent.
"Fine, fine. I was watching. I was in town because I have some information to trade. I'm just here to get what I came for." Talia said with a dramatic sigh.

"Bruce won't be taking any visitors right now, he needs rest. He was just shot." Dick explained, as he tried to mask his frustration with professionalism.

But unlike any normal person, Talia doesn't care.

"He'll be fine." Talia said, spotting the clipboard on the front desk out of the corner of her eyes. "He's in room 212, right?"

Dick's hands balled into fists. He was hoping to have delayed her a little longer. But this woman was as sharp as a tack, as much as he hated to admit it. With a triumphant smirk and a swing of her hips, Talia sauntered down the hallways towards Bruce's room. Once there, she quietly slipped through the door to an unsuspecting Bruce. However, Bruce seemed to be well aware he had a visitor and was sitting up in bed. An oddly hard hospital pillow was pressed between his back and the headboard so he wouldn't hurt his injury as he sat up. He turned his head when he heard the door open, eyes narrowed as he saw who had entered.

"Talia," He said, brusquely.

By his expression, it was clear to see he was not pleased by her presence. Talia crossed lean arms over his chest and leaned against the nearest wall. She wore a smile on her sharp features, but it wasn't pleasant or warm. She had something over him. Not all Bruce had to do was figure it out.

"You need something." He states, unamused.

"I do. And you have questions. A give-and-take situation I presume?"

"What do you want?" Bruce asked, cracking his knuckle absent mindedly.

"A vile of Damian's blood." Talia said, as if it were normal.

"Ask Damian. It's not my blood." Bruce said bitterly. "But if he says 'no', not my problem."

"Fine… But you won't stop me?" Talia asked, throwing him a suspicious look.

"Only if you don't answer my questions truthfully." Bruce reasoned.

"Is it about the new runt you've taken in? She looks shockingly like Damian."

That damn smile. That stupid 'cat that ate the canary' look said it all. She knew.

"She's ours, isn't she?" Bruce asked, his tone softer this time.

"And if she is? Are you going to sue for child support?" Talia teased.

"Why did you abandon her?" Bruce asked bluntly.

"She was supposed to die. Born with little to no organs and the ones she did have, didn't work right." Talia said, dismissively. "Father opted for me to kill her and spare her the pain of a slow death. But I dropped her off at an orphanage."

"You're not telling the truth, Talia." Bruce said coldly. "I know you. And you wouldn't spare someone's life if it didn't have any benefits to it."

Talia chuckled darkly.

"You know me too well, beloved. But you are right. The absence of her organs was the result of injecting essence from the lazarus pit into the embryo. I wanted her alive in case it ever affected her later in life. But I could not keep something so weak around. So I gave her to an orphanage." Talia finally explained properly. "But she's older now and is still nothing more than insignificant."

"You're disgusting, Talia. You're talking about your child, our child." Bruce spoke through grit teeth.

"I know. Then on my behalf, why don't you give her what I could not."

Talia tapped sharp nails against the railing of Bruce's bed before she left swiftly. The sound of her heels clacked against the tiled hallway and faded until it was nothing but a memory. If Bruce hadn't known Talia, he would have said that she looked almost… sad. But he knew Talia. He knew she raised Damian from the day he was born to be a killer. To know nothing of love and childhood. Just loyalty and duty. There was no way she could feel guilty for hurting the child she had abandoned.

"Bruce,"

The voice caught his attention and scattered his thoughts to the back of his mind. He glanced up from his lap towards the door. In the doorway, the Batfam was squeezing in as close as physically possible to all fit in the narrow opening . Bruce felt a smile tug at his lips and waved them all in. Jason borrowed some chairs from other rooms so everyone had a place to sit. The room was rather small with everyone crowded around him, but Bruce didn't mind. The warmth that welled up in his chest as he was pestered with hundreds of questions: Did he need an extra pillow, was he in pain, was he tired; was something he welcomed. Eventually, Bruce was able to fend off the worried Batfam by assuaging their concerns. The moment the room grew quiet enough for Bruce to speak up, he asked everyone to leave. Everyone except Evie. After exchanging unsure looks and briefs pauses of confusion, everyone exited out the door to the waiting room to the give the two some privacy.

"Are… Are you upset with me?" Evie in a voice softer than a whisper.

Evie was fiddling with the end of her skirt, her heel scuffing against the tiled floor. Her gaze was cast towards the far corner of the room, suddenly finding it very interesting. Bruce could read the anxiety in her expression from a mile away. It was time they had a real talk, a heart-to-heart.

"No, I am not." Bruce assures gently. "But would you come sit with me?"

Bruce pats the empty side of the bed and Evie clumsily climbs up on top of the hospital bed. Her legs dangle off the side gently and she helps Bruce shift the guard railing off to the side so it wouldn't poke her in the side while she sat.

"I want to tell you something, Evie. Something very important. And I ask that you don't interrupt until I am finished. Does that make sense?" Bruce asks, keeping his tone light despite the serious expression he wore.

Evie nodded and moved to fold her hands in her lap as she provided him with all of her undivided attention. Pleased by her reaction, Bruce shifted a little and began to speak. He told her about how he found her. His mind flashing back to the lifeless form she held inside that cage as he spoke. Confusion crossed Evie's delicate features, then came sadness as she learned of Talia. How she had been abandoned, tossed aside practically. That Bruce hadn't learned about her existence until now. However, he planned to make it up to her. But she didn't speak up. She didn't even break down or cry. Just a singular little tear slipped down her cheek and disappeared into the bed sheets. That was it.

"And with that, would you like to live with me?" Bruce asked, hoping his voice was as kind as he thought it sounded.

"Like, I can stay in the room I have in now?" Evie asked, unsure.

"You can keep it. It'll be your room."

"My own room?"

"Of course. I've got plenty of room." Bruce assured. "But with this room, do you also accept that conditions?"

"Conditions?" She echoed.

"If you accept the room, you officially become a member of the Wayne family."

"For real? I can… I can be your daughter?" Excitement shimmered in Evie's eyes as she turned to Bruce, hands falling on his knees.

"For as long as you'll have us." Bruce reiterated.

"Then yes! I want to stay with you!"

Evie threw her arms around Bruce's neck, sending him falling onto his back. The two laughed as they tipped back, the cheerfully loud sound echoing and resounding off the bare walls of the hospital room. And just outside the hallway, the Batfam was listening; some with their ears pressed against the wall. But all were smiling, both hopeful and grateful for Bruce and Evie's decision.