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: As I mentioned before, we had a battle with Bruce's character. Movie and Comic Bruce are different and it was hard to decide what we wanted to do with that. If anyone has a suggestion, comment, observation, we would take it graciously. As for Alvin...well. You'll just have to wait and see.


The Interface
by Bizarre Aubrey
Chapter II: Birdarangs


Bruce was not in the mood for business matters. He wanted Fox to finish with the corporate dribble, so they could get to more important matters. Like keeping Alvin out of his damn bat cave.

"Hey, hey, hey," he interrupted finally, losing his patience. "I've got some problems at home, that I could use your help with."

Fox looked up from the papers he'd been reading. "Troubles at home?" he inquired, his tolerance had a much longer fuse.

"Yeah," Bruce gave his noncommittal reply. "I've got a kid that needs to kept out of places he shouldn't be. Do you have a good lock I can use?"

"Probably," Lucius smiled. "Why don't we go take a look?" Bruce really hated how smug he sounded. "Kid proofing the Manor, now there's something I didn't think I'd ever hear from you."

Bruce gritted his teeth, he'd known Lucius would tease him. "Spur-the-moment adoption," he muttered. "I didn't really have time to prepare for it."

"Mighty fine of you." Fox's smile was six miles wide. Bruce just rolled his eyes and continued on his way down to the basement floor.

"I need my spelunking suit patched, too," he added, as they entered the Applied Science Department. "It tore."

Fox's eyes twinkled. "Right," he nodded. "I can fix you up with a kit for that too."

They moved through rows of unused merchandise until Fox stopped, counted up a few boxes…Waited for Bruce to get it down, then opened it up. "You just gotta program a code into this thing," he said, holding up the panel and displaying it. "Its small enough that you could probably slip a thermostat cover over it."

"Perfect," Bruce murmured, accepting it in order to look it over. "Thanks."

"Not at all, Mr. Wayne," Lucius drawled on the name just to piss him off, Bruce knew it.

x x x x x

Alvin stood on a stool in the tailor's waiting. He was mute, like a statue, as the man continued to hem up the pants. He seemed a bit uneasy, his face didn't show it, but just the way he held himself belied his disturbance.

"Do you think I really need the suits?" he asked trying to sound as conversational as possible. "I don't see Mr. Wayne dragging me out to some formal function any time in the near future."

"You never know, Master Alvin," Alfred shrugged. "Master Bruce hosts parties at the Manor and he may also decide to take you out. It is always best to be prepared."

"Hnn, right…one is always in need of a good suit." Alfred wasn't sure if it was possible for the boy's tone to be any more sardonic.

"Master Bruce is trying," the old man pointed out on his employer's behalf. "Try to be patient with him, while he gets the hang of things."

Alvin was very silent for a long time and it was a bit disturbing. "He's young. How old is he?" he seemed uncertain whether he really wanted to ask that question or not.

"Thirty," Alfred supplied. "And you?"

There was a flash in the kid's eyes and his mouth turned into a prickly little line. "Sixteen."

Alfred's expression didn't change, and he merely inclined his head. Inside, he wasn't quite as calm. Bruce was adopting a boy who could be his younger brother. This was the making of an uphill struggle for both of them.

Alvin was finally allowed down from the stool. The tailor went to finish the last parts of the suit and Alfred paid for it at the front desk.

"He's young. This quite seems a lot for him to undertake," Alvin observed and he was drawn in on himself and tense. "He could just send me off to a boarding school."

"He wouldn't do such a thing," Alfred very nearly chuckled. "Master Bruce is stubborn. He will not admit when his hands are full. He will take care of everything though, be patient."

Alvin's deep eyes stayed wary, even once they'd left the store and were on their way to the next.

Alfred was beginning to think this really was too much for them, all of them.

x x x x x

"I'm in way over my head," Bruce groaned and rested his face in his hands. He'd caught the train to the DA's office after telling Alfred of his destination so he could be picked up there. Now he sat at Rachel's desk, explaining the newest problem he'd created for himself.

"What possessed you to do that, Bruce?" she asked, collating the strew of papers on her desk. "I mean, yes, it was a great thing to do, but you could have found a foster family and just given them the money instead of taking the kid in yourself."

"You sound like Alfred." Bruce groused. Then took a minute to collect his wits. "It seemed like a good thing to do, at the time. I wasn't going to send him to an orphanage."

Rachel paused and reached out to brush her fingertips over his wrist. "I think you'll be fine. Alfred raised you, he can probably keep this kid in line."

"I'm going to ignore that," Bruce promised with a curve of his lips. "But, in the meantime, is there anything important that I should know? You went to a real high school, with real teenage interaction and all that."

She blinked at him a few times before laughing. "Bruce, he's…a he. A teenage he. He'll probably brood more than you do, lock himself in a room and for the most part leave you completely alone except when he wants money. Or a car." Her smile turned feral and Bruce knew she was imagining a teenage boy asking for the Batmobile.

"He's not finding out about that," he cut in. "Any of it."

"Good plan," she replied, her smile calming, but only just. "So, what is the new Wayne-Brat's name?"

"Alvin." He was used to ignoring her teasing jabs. "Alvin Draper."

Rachel made a face. "That's a boring white-bread-name," she observed. "And you know what?" she continued to muse. "Alvin Wayne makes it sound even worse."

"Alvin is the name he gave," Bruce sniffed.

She kept laughing until he threatened to leave.

Eventually, she kicked him out because she had to get back to work. Alfred would be there to pick up Bruce soon anyway. When the car did finally pull up, Bruce was beyond pleased to find that Alvin was not inside it.

"Did you and Miss Rachel have a pleasant time?" Alfred wondered once they were on their way back to the Manor.

"Nnn," Bruce grumbled.

"Mr. Queen called earlier to tell you there was a problem with his flight and that he will not be into Gotham for another week," Alfred added.

Bruce snorted. He'd forgotten all about that meeting. Apparently he'd lucked out.

"Great, let's just go home, Alfred,"

x x x x x

Dinner was a tense affair. Alfred had decided that, since Bruce was officially adopting Alvin, they should act like a proper family. This included dusting off the dining room table, and eating together.

Bruce hadn't done so in a long time. He was positive that the last time he'd eaten in the dining room was before he'd gone to college. It was a little uncomfortable. Perhaps that was accountable to having nothing to say to Alvin.

"We'll enroll you in school, tomorrow," he told the boy.

When the kid glanced up, he looked completely different from the weak and filthy creature they'd gotten from the hospital. He was clean, for one thing, and wearing clothes that fit for another. His hair was also carefully and meticulously groomed. Bruce wondered if Alfred had done that.

"And where will I be going?" Alvin asked, he sent a wary look in Alfred's direction, but the butler ignored it.

"There's a nice private school, nearby." Bruce said on the offhand. "I was planning on sending you there."

The boy's eyes glazed over a little and he turned his attention back to the food.

Bruce's interpretation of the look turned out to be wrong. As he began to ask if the arrangement was all right, Alvin smiled and said it was fine. It wasn't the twitchy smiles that Alfred had seen throughout the day. This was a large smile with a showing of teeth.

Not entirely convinced, Bruce let it drop. "Did you make it to the courthouse?" he asked Alfred. Maybe once the legal work was complete Alvin would loosen up.

"Yes, sir, I put the paperwork in your study," Alfred replied, and then pointedly heaped more food onto his plate. Bruce bit back a sigh.

"Thanks," he nodded, taking a bite – mostly for Alfred's sake. He still wasn't used to eating such large portions. During his travels, he'd often gone for days on a stolen plum.

"I put young Master Alvin in your old bedroom," Alfred continued and Bruce noticed how Alvin stopped poking at the food in order to glance up at them. What was the kid's problem now?

Bruce offered the teen a tired look. He was questioning everything Bruce and Alfred did for him.

"It's a nice room," he promised Alvin. He didn't even know if that was the problem or not.

Alvin's eyes became narrow and sharp and Bruce found he couldn't even begin to speculate on what that look meant.

"Yeah." After a moment of nothing but staring Alvin shoved some food into his mouth.

Bruce sighed, shoved his still full plate away and stood. Alvin obviously wasn't in the mood for father-son bonding and Bruce really wasn't feeling too paternal at the moment either. He left the dining hall, excusing himself by mentioning starting on that paperwork.

He could feel the kid's creepy blue eyes following him out and he heard Alfred say something but he didn't much care what.

A few hours later Alfred poked his head in to ask if Bruce needed anything before they all turned in for the night. Bruce declined and considered saying goodnight to Alvin…then decided not to. He'd really bitten off more than he could chew with this one. Alfred promised to call the school in the morning and then left Bruce to his brooding.

Bruce had worked his way through the paperwork several hours ago. He would hand it over to Alfred, in the morning. For the moment, he headed down to the Cave. It was time to change and start his patrol.

He hoped that Alvin didn't suffer from somnambulism. He hadn't installed those security locks yet. It would wait until the kid was at school the next day.

He took the time to patch up his suit before heading out, he had spares but the current suit wasn't damaged that badly.

He left all of Bruce Wayne's troubles back at the Manor because he had to pay attention to patrol now, or he'd end up dead.

He ran into James Gordon on a rooftop.

"You hear about the kid you rescued?" Gordon wondered.

"Yeah." Batman answered gruffly. He kept a sharp roving eye while he spoke.

"We can't find any Drapers," James continued.

"You won't, his parents are dead," Batman replied. "He's paranoid and we can't get any more information out of him. Unless you want to run a finger print scan on him."

"Think that would turn anything up?" Gordon rejoined.

"No," Batman grunted. "Wayne is adopting him though. 'Alvin Draper' won't be going anywhere."

Batman didn't wait for another answer before he dove off the roof. The sound of the grapple line accompanied his retreat.

x x x x x

The next morning, Alfred made them eat breakfast together. Bruce protested mightily. He'd been out all night! Couldn't he sleep?

"No," Alfred said. "You have appointments to keep and you must see young Master Alvin off."

Bruce rolled over to stare at him. "I don't think he wants that at all."

"That does not matter, you are going to do it anyway, sir," Alfred insisted.

Bruce gave the butler an incredulous look. Eventually, he rolled out of bed and grabbed a bathrobe. Alfred urged him to get dressed, and not after breakfast. Bruce grunted and waved him off like any other pesky fly.

Alfred had to pick his battles, so they went down to the dining room where Alvin was munching quietly on a bowl of cereal. Bruce was stunned, Alfred never just let him eat cereal. It was always something disgusting like grits because Alfred said he needed the carbohydrates.

He turned to Alfred, and offered him a groggy and hurt face.

"I like cereal too," he reminded. "How come he doesn't have to eat things that he doesn't like?"

Alfred did not deem that with a response, but the implication was that Alvin did not go gallivanting about in the middle of the night. Bruce glanced over in Alvin's direction when he heard the boy make a soft noise…he was smiling. Smiling very self-consciously as if he shouldn't be amused.

Bruce finally sighed tragically, and threw himself down into his seat where he gazed desolately at the grits. He played with a few spoonfuls, before beginning to shovel it into his mouth. It was as though he thought that if he ate fast enough, he wouldn't have to taste it. Alfred wouldn't even give him butter or salt!

Alvin and Bruce both did their best not to look or talk at each other, but Bruce couldn't really help it. He was taking this kid in. He should know him a little? He was intent on saying something, but he peeked up to see the boy bent over a newspaper scouring it relentlessly. Bruce choked down one last spoonful of hominy before trying to ask anything

"What school were you going to before?"

"I wasn't," Alvin replied, his head snapped up and their eyes locked. It was so fucking weird. Bruce almost dropped his gaze before remembering this was just a teenager. Alvin kept his eyes steady and continued. "Home school."

Bruce smiled. Finally! Some common ground, beyond orphans!

"My parents home schooled me too," he told Alvin, feeling a little more comfortable.

The boy's blue eyes looked like they'd blown. As in, his pupils had completely dilated. The kid was a freak, Bruce decided. He realized after a moment that they'd only darkened and Alvin had titled his head down a bit.

"They traveled a lot," Alvin said. "So I stayed home with Mrs. Mac. All the time."

"That's too bad." Despite Alvin's freakishness, Bruce felt a small stab of sympathy for him. "Whenever I'm busy, Alfred will care for you. He raised me for the most part. He's good at it."

The smile Alvin presented to Alfred was so forced that it hurt. Bruce and the butler chose not to say anything about it out of courtesy.

The boy buried himself back in the newspaper, and only resurfaced when Alfred said it was time for him to get going.

Bruce waved goodbye to him and got up to go install the new lock on the entrance to the Cave. Once he'd finished and working, he headed down to get to work on finding information on Alvin.

He searched Gotham for Draper, then Alvin. There was an old woman named Rebecca Draper, she was in Arkham though, had been since she was thirteen. There were also nearly thirty Alvins, none of them matched the description though.

Bruce did a global investigation. He'd theorized that Alvin Draper was a phony name, as he went through more and more files, he felt it had been confirmed.

He uttered an oath and got to his feet. "Alfred!" he shouted, riding the lift back up. "Alfred!"

Alfred was certain that Bruce had lost his mind. He was sitting at the dining room table eating his own breakfast, the other dishes stacked on a tray waiting patiently to be washed.

Panting, Bruce skidded to a halt. Seeing the dishes still there, he grinned and pulled his robe sleeve down to grab the spoon.

"Little rat thinks he can out smart me," he whispered to himself.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired, but Mr. Wayne had already headed back downstairs to get the fingerprints analyzed. If that wasn't enough he could go upstairs and get a hair off the kid's pillow.

However, when all was said and done, Bruce was staring at his computer screen and feeling something akin to betrayal. Nothing. He'd found nothing. Looks like Alvin Draper might be able to outsmart him after all… Damn it! Feeling defeated, he trudged back upstairs to return the spoon to Alfred.

"Master Bruce, are you quite well?" Alfred asked, accepting the spoon and placing it on the tray with the other dishes.

"I'm great," Bruce lied around a yawn. In reality, he was sore and tired. "Ungrateful brat lied, but I'm great."

"Ungrateful brat?" Alfred pressed. He began to tidy up his own dishes.

"Alvin." Bruce was justifiably annoyed. "I'm adopting this kid, and I don't even know his real name!"

"Ah," Alfred inclined his head and gave Bruce a suspicious glance before heading into the kitchen.

Bruce eventually went back to bed despite Alfred's scolding. He was tired and more importantly a millionaire. If he wanted to sleep, he could sleep.

x x x x x

He got up again several hours later and finally got around to showering and dressing. Then it was just a matter waiting for Alvin to come home so he could interrogate him.

When the boy arrived, Bruce was there.

"I think you and I need to have a little talk," the last Wayne stated flatly.

Alvin raked his fingers through his hair but just shrugged and waited patiently for Bruce to get on with it.

"I did a little search on you," Bruce informed him. "Alvin Draper doesn't exist. Anywhere. Who the fuck are you?"

"Do you know if Haly's Circus is supposed to come to Gotham anytime soon?" Alvin wondered.

"Not to my –" Bruce started, then stopped, completely baffled by the change of subject. "Wait a minute! What does that have to do with this?"

"Everything," Alvin shrugged and Bruce was surprised that the kid had already gotten halfway up the stairs while he'd been on backspin. "I've got homework."

Bruce let out a frustrated noise, before coming up with a new plan.

"Tell me who you are or – or you're…grounded!" He was pretty sure he could do that.

"Okay," Alvin nodded. "I'll stay in my room until you say otherwise."

"Damn it!" Bruce had to physically restrain his rage. Since when did grounding someone backfire like that? "Alfred, cut the breaker to Alvin's room!"

This didn't faze the kid and Alfred was about to get him a therapist. Bruce wasn't sure what else to do. He got up there and the boy had a pocket flashlight and was doing his homework.

"Give me that," the young billionaire snapped, snatching the flashlight away.

The boy didn't say a word and he just looked up at Bruce. It was pretty dark and Bruce really only thought the kid was looking at him.

Finally, he switched the flashlight on, and pointed it at him.

"Who are you?" he asked again. "I'm serious about this, kid. If I'm going to take care of you, don't I at least deserve your name?"

"I told you my name, Mr. Wayne," Alvin blinked innocently and then, "How could you not have found me? Who did you ask?"

"Cops," Bruce droned. "Cops did a search for your name and finger prints. I even asked Batman, and none of them found anything. You shouldn't exist. Explain. And don't call me Mr. Wayne."

Alvin's eyes were sad and pitiful. "Haywood, my last name is Haywood." Sometime, somewhere, there was a boy named Jason Todd rolling in his grave.

"There." Bruce was not wholly satisfied. "Now, was that so hard? First name too, please, Mr. Haywood."

Alvin ground his teeth. His expression narrowed and he stared at Bruce for a long silent moment. "Still Alvin," he spit.

"Thank you." Bruce nodded, tossing his flashlight back. "I'll have Alfred turn your power back on."

Bruce felt pretty smug when he went downstairs to check the name. He came up with one Sheila Haywood, who, after a scandal in the hospital she'd been working at, had moved to Ethiopia. Well, that was apparently why Alvin hadn't wanted to mention her. She'd been charged with embezzling money.

Whistling from self-satisfaction, he scampered back upstairs to share his grand victory with Alfred.

Alfred offered a thin smile. "Very good, Master Bruce," but he didn't seem all that pleased.

That night, dinner was once again an unpleasant affair. Alvin had a newspaper and was still looking desperately for something. Alfred eventually confiscated the thing. Alvin looked like he might protest, but set his sights on Bruce instead.

"Does Lieutenant Gordon had a daughter?" he asked.

"I think so…" Bruce thought about it for a moment. "I think he has two kids."

"How old?" Alvin persisted. He looked guilty and quickly grabbed his glass of water to hide behind.

"Not sure," Bruce lied. He knew but technically only Batman had been to Gordon's house. "Young."

Alvin gave the impression of being displeased by this and began to eat again.

Freakboy, Bruce declared in his mind.


To Be Continued...