Disclaimer: I don't own "Batman Begins"

The funeral seemed to go on forever. My relatives on my mothers side had shown up and some friends on the police force that had worked with my parents on a few cases. Never in my life have I ever witnessed a most somber atmosphere. I was quiet, as usual, on the drive over. The funeral took place outside in the rain. It just occured to me. What is it with funerals and rain? The answer was simple. To me, rain meant that the sky was crying. That's what it felt like. The sky was crying for my parents. The sky was crying for me. Bruce held an umbrella over me and him, while Alfred recieved his own. We walked slowly to the caskets that were under a tent to protect ourselves from the rain. Chairs were sat in there, and those who occupied them were my realtives. The police force was standing up. The difference? The cops respected and loved my parents. My own flesh and blood didn't. When we reached the tent, Bruce and Alfred closed the umbrellas. My relatives didn't notice that the Prince of Gotham had returned. the looked at me. To them, I was the spawn of scum in the family. All because I wasn't rich like them. All because my mother cared about love more that a silly piece of paper. And those events happened to end up with one result: Me. The "Scum of the Narrows". The "Spawn of Traitors". The "Poor Little Rich Girl". Some shot glares at me as if my very presence insulted them. But they knew I would come to my parents funeral. Question was though...why did they?

"Well, well, well." said my Uncle Edgar. "Look who showed up. The Scum of the Narrows,"

I didn't say anything as I sat down in a chair far from them, but as close to my parents coffins as possible. I didn't see, but I could tell Bruce was shocked. Never in his life had he heard a family member insult another. Another reason was that I didn't say anything back to my uncle. I felt his gaze, but I didn't look at him. My eyes were staring at my reflection on the black coffins.

"Excuse me," he said to my uncle. "I don't think insulting your niece at a funeral is appropriate. Especially when it was her who lost someone,"

"And who just might you be?" My uncle asked jeering.

"...Bruce Wayne,"

Most of my relatives, and the police force looked up in awe. Here was a man whom they thought was dead. Bruce didn't say anything, so he and Alfred sat down next to me. My uncle, however, was not done. Figures. He spoke for everybody on my mothers side.

"And where were you?" he asked.

Bruce hesitated before he answered. I was wondering the same thing. Where did he go? And why did it take him seven years to come back? I didn't press the matter, though.

"Vacation," he simply said.

"Ha!" My uncle laughed. "So you had a seven year vacation after Joe Chill's trial, and you turn up and take in this little brat,"

"With all due respect, Mr. Mason," Alfred spoke up. "I think it would be wise to hold you comments until after the funeral,"

Uncle Edgar glared at Alfred.

"You think we came here for Luke and Jennifer?' he asked.

I should've known. They only came to see if my parents left them anything valuable. At this thought, I hid my locket. But we barely had any money, so why were they there? My mother was pretty sure her parents didn't leave us anything, so she didn't show up at the reading of their will when they died. After the sermon, we all witnessed the caskets being lowered to the ground. The thought of my parents being buried brought tears to my eyes. I took a glance at my relatives. Some had smiles on their faces. How could they be so cruel? All they ever thought about was money. They were practically swimming in billions. Why would they need more? My parents taught me that there was more to life than being rich. They taught me love, courage, and honesty. But all that went away with two fateful gunshots. I turned back to the sinking coffins at that thought. Tears started to stream down my face. Why did they have to die? Why did they have to leave me? Bruce put a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head slowly. I didn't want anyone's comfort or pity. Not at the moment, at least. The next thing I knew, I was running across the cemetary as fast as I could. I wanted to run away from my problems. Away from my relatives. Away from anything that was going to make me cry. I hated my relatives now. I never actually did before, but how could they just come to a funeral and expect to get money? They were heartless. As I reached the car, I opened the door to the backseat, and I cried as hard as I could, as though it would bring my parents back from the dead.

Readers POV:

As soon as the funeral was over, Bruce turned to Alfred.

"Alfred," he said. "Go and check on Sarah, please. I think the ceremony really upseted her,"

"Yes sir," Alfred understood.

As soon as Alfred walked away. Bruce was confronted my a man in his late 40's. He had brown hair turning into a light shade of grey, and a kind looking face.

"Mr. Wayne?" he asked sticking out his hand.

"Yes," Bruce shook it.

"Matthew MacCallister. I'm handeling the reading of Luke and Jennifer Chante's will. I believe you are taking care of their child, Sarah Chante,"

"Yes. I'm her godfather,"

"We were going to start with their daughter present, but it seems she's been through enough,"

Bruce nodded at that.

"Yeah," he agreed. "We're gonna take her home,"

"I was wondering if you would stop by City Hall to be a represenative for her," MacCallister said. "They'll start in an hour,"

"Of course. I'll just have Alfred watch Sarah, and I'll be there as soon as possible,"

"Thank you. Oh! And welcome back sir,"

"Thank you,"

Bruce watched the man leave, and sigh when he looked at the two graves of Luke and Jennifer. Taking two roses, he threw one each on their coffins. He looked over at Luke Chante's resting place. He remembered when he first met Luke. He was at that dinner party with Jennifer (as friends) and Luke was a caterer. He had just gotten the job while he was training up to become a deputy for Gotham City. Bruce was the one who got them togethor, and about two years later, they were married and had Sarah. He looked at his friend, Jennifer's grave. He met her in school. Of course, they both were in different grades, Jennifer in sixth, and Bruce in second, but they became fast friends.

"I'll take care of her, Jennifer," he said. "I promise,"

And so Bruce left the cemetary and got into the backseat with Sarah, and drove home. When they got to the sanctity of the Wayne Manor, Sarah just walked upstairs to her room before anyone couldsay anything. Bruce left Alfred to care for Sarah while he had gone to City Hall. When he got there, he couldn't remember how many shocked glances he had gotten before in his life. People were stopping what they were doing, and looking at him on his way to the meeting room. Who could blame them though? They all thought he was dead. He finally got to the meeting room where the Masons, Jennifer Chante's family, were all ready.

"Mr. Wayne," MacCallister said from the head of the table. "Thanks for coming,"

"Bruce nodded as he sat down.

"All right," MacCallister continued. "We're gonna try and keep this short, but I know all of you will have opinions so I'm just gonna come out and say it: The daughter gets everything,"

At this remark, there were several uproars of protests, mostly from Edgar. MacCallister quieted down.

"You all knew this was going to happen. The decision is final,"

"Excuse me," Bruce spoke up. "May I just say one thing? Luke and Jennifer Chante were a middle class family that lived in the Narrows. May I as what their daughter, Sarah Chante, will be recieving?"

"Everything that belonged to Luke and Jennifer, and 2 million dollars,"

Edgar stood up in rage.

"Where in the world would that little brat be getting two million dollars?" he asked.

MacCallister furrowed his eyebrows.

"Edgar," he said. "Don't you remember what your parents said in their will, when they died two years ago?"

Bruce watched as MacCallister got a paper from his briefcase. He held it up.

"This," he said. "Is Edward and Ginerva Mason's Last Will and Testament. They died two years ago, and left something to their grandchild, Sarah Chante. Luke and Jennifer knew about it, but they decided to tell her when she came of age. And if I may remember correctly, it caused Edgar to throw a vase at a wall with this particular decison,"

Edgar grumbled to himself as MacCallister put on his reading glasses.

"Although we wish to give her and her family money from inheritance," he read the will. "The only thing we can give out youngest daughter, Jennifer Ginerva Mason-Chante, is out deepest love. She has no interest in inheriting the money, and we respect that. But we are concerned about their only child and out grandaughter, Sarah Elizabeth Chante. We feel that she has great potential in education so we hereby give her Jennifer's inheritance money, which consists of 2 million dollars, to use at her convenience when she comes to the age of 18. To our granddaughter, we give our love and the best of luck in her life,"

To this, Bruce smiled. So, not all of Sarah's family hated her. But, it faded away when he looked at Edgar's face

"So," he said. "The only reason you came here was for money. Mainly my goddaughter's inheritance money from her grandparents,"

Edgar sneered.

"There's nothing special about that child," he said.

"Actually, you're wrong," Bruce disagreed. "I also see potential in the Chante's child. She seems like a very bright girl,"

Edgar turned to MacCallister.

"What about gaurdianship?" he asked.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows. Why would Edgar be asking about Sarah's gaurdianship?

"Luke and Jennifer wanted Mr. Wayne to look after Sarah," MacCallister explained. "Edgar give it up. Sarah Chante is given the 2 million. It will be placed in an account under a personal password, under lock and key, in tight security. And she's already placed in the care of Bruce Wayne, and he's in charge of her money until she's 18. This meeting is over,"

Sarah's POV:

It was until after dinner when I heard Bruce come through the fron door. I hardly ate, but I wasn't that hungry. I sat in the living room watching the news and sort of reading at the same time. All I heard was the return of Bruce Wayne. I popped in now and then, so I turned it off. Publicity wasn't my thing at times. I guess it was something I had to get used to if I was gonna live at the Wayne Manor. Bruce came in, and I looked up closing my book.

"Sarah," he said. "Can you come with me?"

I obeyed, and walked with him to his office. He at down in a chair behind his desk, and I stood beside him lookingat the computer. It was a site that led to a bank account under my name. Hang on. Since when did I get an account? And I certainly recall not having 2 million dollars. Bruce looked at me.

"Turns out your grandparents gave you your mother's inheritance money," he explained. "Your parents left you everything,"

I nodded, understanding.

"I've got your account set up," he continued. "I want you to use it for emergencies and education. Understand?"

I nodded again. Besides, what else was I gonna do with 2 million dollars? Bruce then told me I could create a password. Then I started thinking. Just to be on the safe side, I wanted to choose a password that no one else would try to think of. Something that wasn't exactly me. Something that wasn't obvious. I thought long and hard until I typed up three letters.

BAT