A/N: It's my 40th Anniversary today, so everyone will get another part today. ENJOY!

Synopsis: Someone has stolen all the money from the Wayne Foundation Youth Charity Fund. Batman and Red Hood go after the man who did it. While doing research on the thief, Tim is hit by a mysterious beam from an odd weapon sitting on a shelf and is de-aged. Oh boy, what are they going to do with a four-year-old Tim?

Part 33: Fostering New Relationships

Every day for a week, Tim's social worker sat him down and continue to ask him for his last name, and Tim refused to answer.

"You may be protecting your family, young man, but you're with us now," his social worker stated.

"I can't," Tim said, his head hanging. He was feeling more like that four-year-old every day.

"Very well," his social worker said. "I'll have to write you in the system as a John Doe, even though you do know your first name."

"I understand," Tim said.

"Surprisingly, I believe you do." The woman continued to enter information, guessing on how old he was, and when he was born, family unknown, and where he was found. She took a quick picture of him and placed it on his profile and then uploaded that profile.

'I never dreamed I would be in the GCPS system,' Tim thought. 'I avoided all that, until now. At least I'm going to be listed as a John Doe except for my first name. I doubt my family will even look for me in the system.'

Tim sat thinking about his situation. He was surprised that his family hadn't looked for him, or if they were, he wasn't aware of it. He had not heard anything on the TV they allowed him to watch for a couple hours a day, and what they allowed him to watch was mostly children's programs.

'It's not like they'll advertise that I'm missing,' Tim thought. Maybe being with a family wouldn't be so bad, if I'm just fostered. I could run away after a while and look for Zatanna's house.'

Tim's thoughts continued to go back and forth, some positive and some gloomy, the worst being how he would be treated, and the fact that they won't know that he's really a 17-year-old, married teen, with twins. He was about to make up his mind on what he should do when Tim heard the computer ping that indicated his social worker got a message.

"Well, look at that," his social worker stated. "You'll be getting a foster family after all, and only after a week."

"What?" Tim was caught off guard. 'I'm getting a family today?'

His social worker checked the message. "Yes, and in fact they're waiting outside."

'That was fast,' Tim thought. 'What the hell, do they have families coming in every day looking to foster children?' He never thought about it before.

"Timmy, I'd like you to meet the Millers. This is Cynthia and Roger Miller. They have other foster children in their care. They will be your foster family for the next six months until we can find you a permanent home."

"I had one, you took me away from them."

"Now Timmy Jones, that's rude. We talked about that."

"And my name isn't Jones."

"You refused to give a last name, so we had to give you one. Jones is a good name. Your case worker is packing a small bag since you came to us with only the clothes on your back. You have been a mystery for us, Timmy. You obviously have a family somewhere, but you're refusing to tell us who that is."

"I can't. It's hard to explain."

"Obviously, you are smarter than your age, a child protege perhaps?"

Tim didn't answer.

"Anyway. You'll be going with them, so no argument. I will check in with you in a few days to see how you'r settling in."

"Great," Tim put on a false face of cheer. 'Just great.'

Tim turned as the Millers walked in. They were surprisingly a young couple. The man was tall and slender with brown hair and hazel eyes. His face was angular but kind. The woman was also slender, her height just right for his. It was as if they were preportioned for each other. He longeer brown hair framed a lovely heart-shaped face that made her look elven in appearance. He eyes were a striking green color that was rare to say the least. The love they were giving radiated outward.

"Oh, honey look at him!" Cynthia Miller stated. "He's so adorable. I just want to eat him up." In her mind she was thinking. 'Why would a family let a little lost thing like him go.'

'Maybe he was left behind or heaven forbid, abandoned along the road,' Roger Miller thought, his mind on the same wavelinlk as his wife, but he stated instead, "Don't worry young man, we'll take good care of you. You'll have two brothers and two sisters who would love to play with you."

Tim didn't say anything. 'I wasn't abandoned. In truth, I'm the one who abandoned my family, my wife, and sons, all because I wanted to return to normal. Now there's no chance of that happening.'

Cynthia Miller picked Tim up. "Aren't you just the cutest. You are so handsome. I swear I've seen someone like you around before. Look at those blue eyes! You must be a killer with the ladies."

"Um . . . I . . ." Tim blushed. 'If only she knew.'

"Well let's get you home and settled in."

"We don't have a house, but it"s a spacious place," Roger Miller stated. "The apartment building has a place for children to play. There is a central courtyard with a playground, and it is very safe. You'll see."

Cynthia Miller hummed as they walked back to the car. The social worker handed over Tim's meager belongings. "It's a good thing we saved that old car seat after Peter grew out of it. Peter is eight. He'll like you."

Roger Miller opened the door for his wife, and she place Tim in the car seat.

"Such a sweet boy. Peter is." She placed the quiet boy in the seat and strapped him in, making sure everything was nice and snug.

"There's also Daniel, he's 11, and we have twin girls, Lisa and Lorie," Roger Miller stated. "They both turned nine. You are the youngest that we have fostered. Though we are thinking of adopting all of our foster children. We just can't give them up. We've really became a family. Would you like that?"

Tim's face paled. 'Adopted? No, Bruce already adopted me. I have a family. Oh god. I can't tell them. They might even take me away from Bruce, from my brothers.'

"He's so shocked he's speechless. I think it's a wonderful idea!"

Tears formed in Tim's eyes. 'No, I'll never see my . . . my family . . . Sammie, Caine, Caleb . . . What have I done?'

"I think he's overjoyed at the idea, Cynthia," Roger Miller said. "I really think he's happy inside. I can't imagine what his home life must have been like. They must have been terrible to him. Maybe he ran away. Did the social worker mention anything like him being abused? I don't remember." They pulled up to the curve to one of the more expensive looking apartment buildings. "Here we are, home sweet home. We live on the tenth floor. Now, there are rules. No going out on the balcony alone. It's not safe for someone your size. It's such a nice view. You can see Wayne Foundation and that Tree of Hope. They restored it recently. You will be sharing a room with Peter. The twins have their own bedroom. And Daniel has his own room. We got lucky. I got hired at Wayne Enterprises as a Facilities Manager, of course you're too young to know what that is."

"Someone who manages a building," Tim mumbled.

"Well, what do you know, you can talk. And I am impressed. You know Cynthia, we should have him tested. I believe we may have fostered a genius."

"I think we should," Cynthia agreed. "It would be interesting to see how smart our new boy is."

"I'll set up an appointment with Child Find right away. They can test him and see where he is at on his development. Wouldn't it be amazing to learn that we might have a genius in the family?"

Cynthia smiled brightly. "Yes, of course. Our twins are artistic. They do very well with painting and sculpting and our other boys are great at music. Now we need to find Timothy's specialty."

Tim secretly smirked at their conversation. 'I was tested at four and my parents found out I could read at a third-grade level. Just imagine what their reaction will be when they find I read at a college level. Maybe I can fake it, though it wouldn't be honest. Oh boy, how can I get out of this one.'

"Whatever his talent is, we will certainly nurture it. You never know with children. A lot of ones who don't get a foster family, their talents are wasted. And then they end up on the streets, like that poor boy, what was his name? He ended up disappearing and no one heard from him, again. Oh, I shouldn't talk. We might scare Timothy here. We wouldn't want to give him nightmares."

"Yes, let's not scare him. He looks like he could be a ray of sunshine. I hope he is once we get him settled in."

"Right now, the children are in school. They will be so surprised when they see you." Cynthia turned back to her husband. "I can't believe we got lucky to foster him. There were so many worthy children, but when I read his file this morning, I had to jump on it right away. It intrigued me. He was found out in the middle of nowhere, just wandering along the road. He didn't talk like a four-year-old. And he certainly didn't move like one. You'll have to read the file yourself. That's why I had you come with me today, to see him. I picked him out for us. And I bet he's going to fit right in."

Tim yawned and his stomach growled. He tried to fight sleep, but he couldn't. All of this was just too overwhelming. He wanted to go home, but he couldn't. Truth be told, he was feeling so lost that anything was better than being stuck either at CPS or out in the middle of nowhere. 'I should have been more careful. I think when I'm alone. I just might cry myself to sleep.'

"Oh, it looks like some one is getting sleepy."

"We'll put him in Peter's room. We'll have to get him a special youth bed. For now, I'll put a pool noodle underneath the sheets, so he doesn't fall out of bed."

"That sounds like a good idea. I'll put pillows on the floor just in case that noodle doesn't keep my sleepy pants in bed."

Tim's eyes were drooping. He couldn't stay awake. He was carried into a room and laid down on a bed smaller than his own at the manor. The room was filled with images of Batman and Robin. 'Why did the kid have to have that interest.' Tim turned over and faced the wall, so they wouldn't see his silent tears slipping down his face.

"Sleep well sweetie," Mrs. Miller said, as she placed a pool noodle under the sheet and blanet and pillows on the floor. Both left the room on silent footsteps and closed the door.

Continues with Part 34: A Chewing Out