PART 1A Two: Life Changes

Elle

Life is constantly changing. That's one thing that they don't really teach you in school. Maybe the odd teacher here and there will make a passing mention of it, but no one really explains it. There is no set 'fate' for anyone. There are so many different ways a person's life can go.

I thought that mine would be pretty straightforward: go to school, go to college, get a job in an office (no matter how boring that would be), have a family. After my family's deaths, my life took a turn. I figured that my life would be something like: go to school, get a job, maybe go to college, have a family.

And then I met the Batfamily. It wasn't for very long. Less than an hour. But it reminded me that life always throws something at you that you don't expect, for better or for worse, and you have to deal with it. You can't plan your life out because who knows when something is going to change?

I was excited after the Batfamily left because I'd been right. They were real. They weren't just fictional characters who I was borderline obsessed with. They were living, breathing people. And Bruce Wayne was going to pay for my hospital bill, which made me breathe a little easier.

Of course, that was probably the only time I would ever get to meet them. I'm glad it happened, though. It certainly made me happier. And saved me some time researching – I'd never gotten around to looking deeper into the Batman universe, mostly because I was just trying to survive foster care. The Batfamily was nice, though. They really were.

Too bad I would probably never see them again.

Thursday, June 7

Another nightmare woke me up at dawn. I'd had them off and on since I was fourteen. They just happened more here in the hospital, probably because I hated hospitals. And being alone. It took me a little longer to get over the nightmare – almost always the same one – but I finally was able to calm my racing heart.

I was bored out of my mind for the billionth time that week. Now that I was nearly healthy enough to leave, I was becoming even more restless. At least Alice took out the IV when she came by. But the heart monitor had to stay connected, for whatever reason.

After meeting Bruce, Dick, and Tim, reading boring magazines (again) made me want to throw something at the wall. I didn't, but I still wanted to. When I ran out of models to make fun of, I started folding the pages of the magazines. Yes, I was that bored.

A little after my lunchtime, the door opened. I looked up from the magazine in my hands. I tried to hide my surprise when Bruce, Dick, and Tim entered. Of course, the heart monitor revealed it, the traitor. I put the magazine to the side and tried to sit up a bit more, only to be hit with a slight dizzy spell. I ignored it until it went away a few moments later. I smiled at my visitors.

"Hi," I greeted, not really knowing what else to say. Bruce sat in the chair next to my bed. Tim dragged another chair from the other side of the room to sit on my other side. Dick sat on the end of my bed. I shifted nervously. Had I done something wrong? I was quickly feeling trapped. And I didn't like it one bit.

My worries were for naught, though, as each of them smiled and said hello in turn.

"How are you feeling?" Tim asked.

I grinned. "Getting better."

"They took the IV out," Bruce noticed. I nodded.

"I'm guessing that's a good sign," I half-joked. I guessed my shyness from yesterday had vanished, at least somewhat. At least I was talking back. And not practically whispering.

"So," Dick started, smile on his face. I was very, very wary of him. "You're a fan of the … 'Batfamily'?"

I groaned and put my head in my hands. I felt the skin on my face and the back of my neck heat up. I was hoping that we would never have this conversation. But really, what did I expect? I heard Dick chuckle. I felt all of their stares on me, waiting for my answer. I couldn't bring myself to speak, so I shrugged.

"That's not an answer!" Dick playfully whined.

"I want to know what she thinks," Tim added to my embarrassment. I looked up and shot him a half-hearted glare. He smirked in response.

"I dunno," I stated simply, shrugging again.

"Who's your favorite?" Dick pestered me. "It's me, isn't it? The first Boy Wonder, the great Nightwing!"

"Great at boasting, more like," Tim muttered, smile on his face.

"Leave her alone, you two," Bruce said. I smiled at him gratefully.

"But I'm curious!" Dick pouted. I couldn't help but laugh. He was ridiculous but entertaining, I'd give him that. Dick smiled in apparent victory as I laughed.

"You feel an emotion other than shyness!" Dick exclaimed mockingly.

I pouted. "Shut up," I whined, crossing my arms.

"It's good to see you coming out of your shell," Bruce commented. I resisted the urge to hide my head in my hands again. I clenched my hands in an attempt to push away my shyness.

"We should be going," Tim said. I waved goodbye to them as they left for the second time.

This time, I didn't cry – not even happy tears. I laughed. Because they'd so easily gained my trust. They'd so easily gotten me to laugh and be a bit more open in their presence. I hadn't been close enough to anyone to do that in a long time.

Friday, June 8

I really shouldn't have been surprised when Dick came in just before noon. He smiled widely and held a plastic shopping bag in the air.

"I bring thee food!" he exclaimed. I laughed.

"You didn't have to," I told him. Dick sat in the chair beside me and plopped the bag on my legs. I grinned shyly. "Thanks."

In the bag were a turkey and cheese sandwich, crackers, grapes, a small container with what looked like mashed potatoes in it, a bottle of water, and a Hershey's chocolate bar.

"It was Alfred's idea," Dick explained. "Except for the chocolate. That was all me."

I smiled. "Thank you." Finally, some real food. I started eating.

After a few seconds of silence, Dick said, "This place is boring."

I nodded. "All I have are the same magazines. And no one will let me get up and walk around."

"Do you know when you're allowed to leave?"

"Tomorrow. That is, if I can get someone to sign the form or whatever." I had no idea what it was my foster parents had to sign. Nor did I know what would happen if no one signed for me. Couldn't I just sign for myself?

"Why don't your foster family come and visit you?" Dick asked. The question was said lightheartedly but his expression was serious. I shrugged; the answer for everything.

"They're just my foster family," I replied, pretending it didn't matter. And, really, it didn't. Really. "It doesn't matter."

"So, what, they just dropped you off here and never came back?" Dick asked incredulously.

"Kind of …"

"Well, do your friends visit you?"

"I don't have any," I admitted quietly, nibbling on a cracker. I was embarrassed that I didn't have any friends. I mean, who wants to talk to someone like that?

"'Course you do!" Dick told me. "You have me!"

I just shrugged. I didn't consider us friends. We'd only met a couple of times. And besides, I knew all about him while he knew next to nothing about me. Therefore, we weren't friends. Just a hero and a fan, that was all.

Dick seemed to sense that I didn't like the direction the conversation was going and changed the subject. We played a couple of games – Eye Spy, Tic Tac Toe, Hangman, stuff like that. After he got a call on his cell phone, he turned to me apologetically.

"Sorry. Duty calls."

It was then that I remembered that he was a policeman during the day. I guessed that I was so caught up with the mask that I forgot that there was someone without the mask, too.

I went to wave goodbye, but was thoroughly surprised when Dick leaned over and gave me a hug. I stiffened, unused to hugs, but eventually hugged back. He pulled away, mock saluted me, then left.

Only a few hours later, I received another visitor. This time, it was Tim. He had a laptop case with him. I assumed that he was on his way to or from the library or something, so I was shocked when he handed the case over to me.

"Happy get-well gift, I suppose," Tim smiled. I blinked in surprise.

"What?" was all I could get out.

"Well, you said you were bored, and Dick agreed," Tim explained.

"So you got me a laptop," I deadpanned. "I can't accept this. It's expensive …"

"Bruce insists," Tim grinned. He sat down as I unzipped the case, revealing the plain black laptop inside. I couldn't stop smiling. I felt guilty that Bruce had gotten me this, but at the same time, I was really happy.

I closed the case. I didn't want to use it while I actually had someone to talk to. Unfortunately, the visitor's hours were soon up, and Tim was forced to leave. I called out another thank you as he left.

Saturday, June 9

The next morning, as soon as I'd had my breakfast, Alice told me that my foster father had signed whatever papers needed signing. Apparently, he was waiting in the lobby for me. I gulped. I took a quick shower, dressed in the same clothes I'd come in with, and grabbed my laptop. I was glad to be leaving but terrified of what was about to happen.

My foster father didn't say anything. As soon as he saw me, he started walking towards his car. I had trouble keeping up – staying in a hospital bed for about a week does that to you, I guessed. I collapsed into the passenger seat. As soon as we were out of the parking lot, my foster father broke his silence.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he steamed. I looked out the window, too scared to answer. I wasn't sure he even wanted an answer. "You stole our money. And now we have to pay those medical bills!"

I wanted to tell him that Bruce was paying, but didn't want to anger him further. He'd probably rant about strangers. Or maybe try to use that as an excuse to get rid of me. So I kept quiet. I cringed as his voice rose louder and louder with every word. I let him yell. I just zoned out.

The minute I stumbled into the house, I was met with my foster mother's sneer. She said something about me being ungrateful. I just walked away. Surprisingly, no one had noticed the laptop yet. All I had to do was get to the room I shared with Chiara. Unfortunately, that required stairs. And my legs could barely support my weight walking on a flat surface.

It took me five whole minutes to make my way up the staircase, all the while my foster parents yelled and complained at me. Derek saw me coming up the stairs and went into his room. Chiara mocked the difficulty I was having with the stairs. I didn't know exactly what she said. Something about me being useless, I thought. But a headache was quickly forming, plus I was in pain from climbing the stairs.

Chiara, thankfully, left me alone as soon as I made it to my bed. The yelling from my foster parents stopped, as well. I hid my laptop under my bed and collapsed.

What a wonderful welcome back this had been.

Sunday, June 10

I spent my first full day back at the house in bed. This time, at least, I had my laptop. Chiara was whining about how hungry she was somewhere downstairs. Derek was probably in his room. My foster mother was out at the mall. My foster father was telling Chiara how ungrateful she was. The same old argument.

I managed to get internet on my laptop, for once glad that my foster parents had internet connection, even if they never let us use it. All day, I just streamed Batman cartoons on Netflix or on youtube. I didn't have earphones, so I had to keep the volume down, lest someone hear it and realize that I had a laptop.

The doorbell rang. I was surprised. No one ever came to the house. I ignored it and continued watching my cartoons. I looked up, deer in headlights look probably on my face, as the bedroom door opened. I paused the video when I saw it was Bruce. I sat up, smiling widely. I placed the laptop to the side and stood.

"Thank you so, so much," I told him. "For everything." The bills, the food (well, that was Alfred, but still), the laptop … It was all too much.

"You're welcome," Bruce replied. He eyed the way I was having trouble on my feet. "You should sit down." I did so, sure that he would make me sit if I didn't.

"I'm fine," I reassured him.

"I met your foster father," Bruce said, sitting on the bed beside me. "He's … interesting."

I snorted. "Yeah. Interesting."

"He doesn't like you," Bruce stated. I nodded in agreement.

"He and Claire – my foster mother – don't like any of us," I admitted. Thinking Bruce was going to go tell social services or something, I hurriedly added, "But it's really no big deal."

"Tell me this," Bruce looked at me. I looked down at my hands. "If your foster parents don't like foster kids, then why did they take you guys in?"

"They get money from the state," I explained. I shrugged. "Really, it's no big deal."

Bruce went to reply, but Chiara entered the room. Upon seeing Bruce, she stuck her nose in the air and crossed her arms so her cleavage showed more.

"You don't want to be in here," she said. I blushed at her attempts to flirt. Bruce was never going to want to talk to me again, now. "She's a loser. You should talk to someone like me."

Bruce stood up. I pushed back tears. I knew it.

"It's time that I be going, thank you," Bruce said. "It was nice meeting you." To me, he said, "It's good to see you on your feet." And then he left.

Chiara whined at me and complained about how much of a loser I was and that I had scared him off. I let her rant. When she had her back turned, I hid my laptop back under the bed. That had been a close one. I was very lucky that my foster family seemed oblivious to what was right in front of them.

Unfortunately, I was stuck with them until I turned eighteen. And then I would be thrown out. And where would I go, then? For once, my foster parents were right. I was ungrateful. So what if I never see Bruce, Dick, and Tim again? At least I have a roof to live under. For now.

Monday, June 11

I was alone in the house today. Derek and Chiara were with friends. My foster parents were on a date or something. I sat in the living room and watched more Batman cartoons. It was early afternoon when the doorbell rang. Trying not to get my hopes high, I opened the door. Bruce had come back. I smiled and moved aside. Bruce entered the house. I closed the door behind him.

"Sorry about Chiara yesterday," I apologized. "She's always like that."

"Elle," Bruce stopped me from making any more apologies. I bit my lip. Did I do something wrong? "I want to talk to you about you and your foster family."

My eyes widened. What if he was going to tell my social worker? What if I was taken away to a different – read: worse – foster family? I'd grown used to my only foster family's dynamics. I didn't want to relearn how to deal with new people. Or what if I was sent to a girls' home, or whatever they were? I'd heard those were worse.

"You aren't happy here," Bruce told me. I opened my mouth to protest – anything to keep me from being sent somewhere worse – but Bruce didn't let me. "Don't lie to me."

I fiddled with my hands. "Please don't tell anyone," I begged quietly. "I can deal with it. And I'm out of here as soon as I'm eighteen."

"I know how the foster care system works," Bruce said. My heart sank. So he knew that I would be kicked out. "And I don't think that's right."

"Well, what can you do?" I asked rhetorically, turning away.

Bruce placed a hand on my shoulder and gently turned me back around to face him. "I want to adopt you."

I blinked. I couldn't have heard that right. There was no way I could have heard that right. Bruce Wayne – Bruce freaking Wayne – a man who knew me for only a few days – wanted to adopt me. Me. A random, shy, strange, teenaged girl.

"You don't even know me," was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

"And you don't know me," Bruce said. "Not really. But I want to help. I won't push you to do anything, but I want you to let me adopt you."

Of course, my brain to mouth filter stopped functioning. "You really have a soft spot for orphans," I said sarcastically. I blushed as soon as I heard what I'd said.

Bruce, though, seemed to agree. He smiled. "So, what do you think?" I shrugged. "Think about it for a while. Let me know when you've decided, either way." Bruce made to leave.

"Wait." My thoughts raced. This could be great. This could be really, really great. I'd be family with Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. I'd have a place to belong. I wouldn't be kicked out in a few months. I might even be able to go to college.

"Okay," I breathed, still amazed. I smiled and looked at Bruce. "Yes. Yes, you can adopt me."