Hey guys! Welcome back, I am so excited to present chapter two! So, just to confirm the timeline, Kris and Bruce met the night he put on his little prototype suit and threatened Gordon with a stapler, (that's still hilarious when you talk about it out of context lmao). This next chapter takes place the next day, and we also get to find out what Crane's connection with Kristina is ;)

Disclaimer: If I owned anything except Kristina and Elizabeth, trust me, I wouldn't be on this sight, I'd be making this shit cannon.

He knew that look.

Once Bruce got home that night, (and hopped into an ice bath to ease the aching muscles and joints he'd banged against the railing during his failed and rather impulsive escape from the cops) he thought back to the young girl he'd saved from the predator that had been chasing her.

The thought made his knuckles clench against the edges of the bathtub. He'd sworn not too long ago that he would not kill once he started doing this, and he intended to hold that up. But he also knew that if there was one group of criminals that he would have a hard time holding to that standard, it was pedophiles. None deserved to breathe.

But when he saw that child's face, hazel-green eyes wide and terrified, face completely white with fear…

He'd seen himself.

And he knew better than anyone that the group homes and foster system's in Gotham were worse than anywhere in the country. Thousands of children with no home, no one to care for them, and no real hope of becoming successful adults. It was a breeding ground for criminals, forcing them into harsh conditions, repeatedly abusing them and showing no one cared about them, and then throwing them out into the world without a second thought; no concern for them or how they'd defend themselves.

He wasn't sure how long he stewed on the idea before it fully formed in his head, but when it clicked, it really clicked.

I can change that now.

Maybe he couldn't take on a whole family of orphaned children, (sure thing Bruce lmfao), but he could take on this one. He had a chance to be the change someone needed, be the change a child needed.

He had that chance.

"Alfred, have you ever thought about when I would have kids?"

The white-haired butler looked over to his young master, who sat staring thoughtfully out the window as he sipped a cup of coffee. If the man was being completely honest, he had thought about it. In fact, he'd hoped for it. Every time he went to bed at night when that boy was off who-knows-where in the world, he'd prayed with every inch of his being that it was because he'd found a partner, had some kids, and was truly happy.

"And what brought this on, Master Wayne?"

Bruce paused, eyes narrowed in deep thought. "That girl I saved last night, she couldn't have been more than twelve. And already, she was having to learn how to fend for herself." He looked over at the man who had raised him, eyes burning. "What kind of life is that?"

"I'm afraid that orphan's will always be in this world, Master Wayne." He responded sadly. "Lord knows I've seen my fair share be born from war."

"Well, what if she wasn't an orphan anymore?" Bruce's next words nearly made him drop the plate of pancakes he was carrying, and he raised his gray eyes in shock at the man. Bruce continued. "Or wasn't in foster care anymore, at least."

"Master Wayne, you can't seriously be considering-"

"I know how it feels, Alfred." Bruce said lowly, pain leaking into his voice. "To know that there's suddenly two less people in the world who could give a damn about you, to realize that you'll never get that happy family life that everyone always talks about." He tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the coffee mug. "I want to go visit some foster homes in the city today. I'd love it if you'd join me."

He still remembered the first time he'd seen Kristina.

She'd been a baby. A tiny, tiny baby. Elizabeth was gone, she'd carried the pregnancy to term even when both he and the doctor had told her it would end in her death. But his twin sister was always so stubborn, a trait she seemed to share with her daughter. They told him she lived just long enough past the delivery to hold her daughter, kiss her head, and give her a name.

And then, she was gone.

The doctor had exited the room and handed the baby to him, apologizing for the loss of his twin, his partner, the one he was supposed to change the world with. He had almost shoved the infant back into the useless physician's arms, furious with it for taking the only person he ever loved away from him, when he saw her face.

Even at barely an hour old, she had her mother's nose, and lips. Her little eyes had opened by now, and, like most newborns, they were a pale blue. Those eyes were wide, curious, looking around at everything with a wonder that someone her age shouldn't have been able to possess. Then her eyes landed on his face, and he could have sworn she gave him something like a smile.

He wasn't a stupid man; he was the furthest thing from it. He knew he was in no position to care for a child, much less an infant, and he had no desire to. But he did intend to put her somewhere where maybe, just maybe, he could find her again. And he had.

Elizabeth had refused to tell him the name of the father, it was a secret she had carried to her grave. Even now, with all his contacts, he still wasn't able to find him.

But that was alright, though. Kristina didn't need her biological father, she had him.

Jonathan Crane was a patient man, but he found himself becoming more and more intolerant of the amount of time it was taking Ra's Al Ghul to reach Gotham. Once the League of Shadows brought this city to its knees, he would take his beloved niece and would show her all the things that he had intended for himself and his sister to do together, once they rose to prominence. Ra's had sworn never to harm the child; on the contrary, he actually seemed quite excited to meet her.

It was almost time. Soon, he would have his family, the last family of his that existed.

And then all would be right in the world.

"So, you're sure you're ok?" John asked her, sitting next to her on the bench.

The masked man had returned Kris to the foster home and had helped her sneak through the window, only instructing her to get to bed before disappearing into the night. Which, if she was being completely honest, had been so cool. The second the sun had rose, she'd sprang from bed, ready to shower and prepare for the day. She was still forbidden from the yard at the group home, but that didn't stop her from seeing John at school. She'd tracked down her best friend during lunch and immediately pulled him off to a bench nearby, explaining the experience.

Kristina Smith and John Blake had known each other since they were five and six. She'd been wandering around the playground, looking for something to do, when a soccer ball caught her eye. As fast as she could, she raced over and kicked it with all the might in her tiny body. Unfortunately, that sent the ball sailing straight into John's face, who wasn't too far away. The incident had landed him with a black eye, and when Ms. Oscar had brought her to the nurses office and firmly instructed she apologized, John had just smiled and excitedly asked if she'd like to play with him next time.

And just like that, a friendship was born.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She muttered, biting her fingernails. The cut on her lip had been hard to explain, and she stuttered out something about running into a rusty door hinge. Weak, but enough. The nurse had cleaned it up and gave her a tetanus shot before sending her on her way. There wasn't much to do in way of bandaging it, and she'd been informed that regretfully, it would scar.

"That asshole." John growled, clenching his fists. "You have to tell someone, Krissy!"

"No!" She nearly shouted the objection, then looked around, quieting her voice. "You know she'll take James' side, he's her brother! And then they might send me somewhere even worse for lying!"

"But you're not lying!" Her best friend said firmly, "You're telling the truth!"

"Please, don't tell anyone, John!" She protested, shaking her head frantically. "I don't want to get in trouble, don't tell!"

John sighed, scratching his head of black hair before nodding. "Ok, fine. But I want to start helping you with the convenience store stuff. Maybe if I punch Austin Mayhorne a second time, she'll start sending me there with you."

Kris smiled, leaning in to hug her friend. If there was one bright spot in her life, it was John.

Eventually, school ended, and she found herself on the bus back to the group home. She finished her homework before they even got there, leaving her bored. Jonathan was right, this stuff was too easy.

She gasped suddenly, sitting up. Oh no, her stuff! She'd left all her books and puzzles in the store! Would Jonathan be mad at her? In all her time knowing him, he'd never yelled or gotten angry with her, but she had lost his stuff he'd give her.

She was so busy worrying that she didn't seem to notice the sleek black car parked in front of the group home. She entered through the kitchen as she always did, wanting to avoid the crowd of children that always clamored through the front door; they were so loud. As she started up the steps, though, a shrill voice made her heart jump.

"Oh, Kristina, there you are!"

She whirled around to see Ms. Oscar stalking towards her. The woman's pointed face always seemed to be pulled back into a permanent scowl, but for just a second, the child thought James may have told her what happened.

"Come with me, girl!" The woman barked, and Kris followed, though her legs felt like they were about to give out. It suddenly felt hard to breathe, and she resisted the urge to whimper. What if Ms. Oscar made her see James again? The thought alone was enough to make her want to run, and her eyes landed on a window not too far away, seriously considering the idea.

"Oh, stop dragging your feet, Kristina!" Ms. Oscar snapped, and they soon found themselves outside a large, oak door. Ms. Oscar looked at her and scowled again, pulling a small hairbrush from seemingly out of nowhere and began raking it through the girl's head. Kris bit her lip to keep from crying out; her long, wavy brown hair always seemed to get ratted like water always seemed to slip through cracks.

"You will behave yourself, you hear me, girl?" The woman said sternly, finally done brushing her hair and stowing the brush away. "You will not speak unless spoken to, you will address him as 'sir' at all times, and you will not talk back, do you understand?"

"I don't talk back!" Kris shot back, even though it was true. Just last week, when the woman had caught her in her office, Kris had told her to fuck off. She had no idea what it meant, but she'd heard it on TV, and it sounded good. Ms. Oscar raised her beady blue eyes back to Kris's hazel ones.

"I mean it, child. This is not time for your attitude!" She stated with finality, and finally opened the door, her face changing so fast it almost hade Kris's head hurt.

"Here she is, Mr. Wayne." She said pleasantly, a painfully fake smile spreading across her face. At the sound of the name, Kristina looked up in shock.

She'd never seen Bruce Wayne in person before, and she had to say, he looked like she'd always thought he might. He was much younger than Ms. Oscar, with brown hair and hazel green eyes; kind of like hers. An arrogant smile was etched on his face, but when he looked at Kris, the expression softened. He was dressed in a suit, and it just looked expensive. His hair was smoothed back, collar pristine, posture relaxed.

He looked like a billionaire, alright.

"Ah, Kristina?" Bruce asked, standing. He held out a hand, his expression friendly. "It's a pleasure, I've heard quite a bit about you."

Kris stared at his hand in confusion and suspicion before shaking it. She'd never had an adult shake her hand before, and it was strange. Why was the 'Prince of Gotham' here?

"It's nice to meet you too, sir." She responded robotically, and she saw Ms. Oscar's face tighten in the corner of her eye. Oh well, she could deal with it.

"Have you just returned from school?"

She nodded, then remembered she was supposed to respond verbally, "Er, yes, sir."

Bruce chuckled lightly, shaking his head, "Oh, please don't call me 'sir'. It makes me feel old."

She found herself laughing back a little, but then she remembered: Bruce Wayne wasn't going to adopt her. No one was. She wasn't a cute little five-year-old anymore, and even when she was still young, her attitude was what had turned most, if not all potential parents, away.

The realization seemed to solidify like a hard, gray rock in her chest, and she bit her lip.

"Ms. Oscar, is it alright if I go for a walk with Kristina, maybe get to know her a little better?" Bruce's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and a sudden jolt of fear hit her when the administrator left without a word.

Wait, don't leave me alone with him! What if he's like James?

But Bruce never approached her. He simply walked over to the door in the room that lead out to the garden, (if you could call the dying plants, over flowing weeds, and the occasional red Morning Glory that) and opened it, nodding at her. "Would you like to join me, Kris? It's up to you."

Hesitantly, she followed him into the garden, watching as he put about four feet between them as they walked. "So, Ms. Oscar showed me your reports cards. You seem to do really well in science, is that your favorite subject?"

She nodded , pursing her lips. "Yeah, I really like lab days. I think it's fun."

Bruce chuckled again, smiling widely. "Yeah, I liked that stuff, too. But I was usually getting into fights with the other boys when I should've been in class."

His words almost made her stop dead, and she looked up at him in shock. "Wait, you got into fights?"

"Oh, yeah. All the time. There was this kid: Tommy Elliot, man, he always liked to pick on me. He was always making comments about my parents and my family's money."

"Did you punch him?"

"Yes, I did. Pretty hard, too, he started crying."

The two shared a laugh at the mental image of conquering a bully, and the conversation actually started to feel comfortable. Soon, they'd finished their lap around the garden, and Bruce stopped, crouching down in front of her.

"So, listen, Kristina. I talked to Ms. Oscar while you were at school, and I've come to decision. I would like to adopt you, if that's ok."

His words threw her completely off guard for so many reasons. First of all, she'd never heard someone express a desire to adopt her. Second, he was talking to her like she was his equal, not like other adults always seemed to talk to her. And third, he'd asked if it was ok.

"You mean like, I'd go home with you and live with you?"

"Well, not just me. I've got a butler, Alfred. He's really excited to have a younger kid in the house again, let me tell you." The billionaire chuckled, then smiled softly. "But I want to make sure that you want to come with me."

"Why?"

"Why do I want to adopt you?"

"No, why do you want my permission?"

Bruce looked at her, eyes flashing with an emotion she didn't really understand. "I know how it feels when you don't have parents, Kristina. You feel like all these adults are suddenly making all these decisions for you, no one is asking what you want or what you're ok with anymore. They're always talking down to you, treating you like you're stupid just cause you're young. But you aren't, Kristina. You're an extremely smart girl, and not only do I want to adopt you, but I want you to be happy."

Kris wasn't sure she believed him, but there was something in his expression that she'd never seen on adult's face before. It was completely kind, and gentle, and… what was that word Jonathan had taught her, it started with a v… oh, yeah, vulnerable.

So, she found herself nodding slowly, and Bruce's face split into a wide grin. He stayed at her level and stuck out his hand.

"Well, Kristina, I really look forward to getting to know you."

The twelve-year-old almost laughed at his faux 'business' tone and accepted his hand, shaking it firmly.

"You, too, Mr. Wayne."