Woo! Next chapter! I'm going places tonight, Baby! Yes, I know, also short, but essential to get us to the point where the plot must thicken. *sigh*. I would love reviews! :)
He called Gordon the next day, expressing his intent, as Bruce Wayne, of course, to adopt them.
Gordon understood why- he'd seen that same look of mourning in his eyes all those years ago as he saw in theirs now. He agreed he'd start getting the paperwork ready.
He spent the rest of the day in the Bat cave, assembling evidence, cross-examining details, and trying to figure out where the gang lord was hiding.
Alfred brought down the papers to sign, and only when he stopped to sign them did he realize he was really taking in two children. He'd been drowning in his work now, trying to get their parents' murderer off the streets, but he knew what he was doing.
He wasn't sure if he would be a good father, or if he would even come close to it. Batman might get in the way of some things, and he wasn't sure about how to raise a daughter, let alone a five-year old, but right now, all he saw were two separated, grieving children.
He wanted to help them through what was, undoubtedly, the worst time in their life. He'd been through it before, and he knew how much it meant to have a stable environment he could depend on.
Alfred had done it for him- waking up every morning at eight, getting dressed, a breakfast of pancakes, before he'd be allowed to think and read and write for awhile. He did online tutoring, of course, and at lunch at noon he'd have long talks with the man he'd come to know as his grandfather.
It'd felt safe, for once- even throughout the torrents of grief, he'd had Alfred and his routine to cling to. And it'd helped him get through the grief more than the old man would ever know.
He just hoped he could be as helpful to them as Alfred had been to him.
He'd been working tirelessly on hunting down Zucco when he got the call a week later. Dick could be picked up, the paperwork had gone through. The one thing eh didn't expect was the address he'd been given. 2221 Penn street- the address for the juvenile detention center.
He didn't think he'd ever seen a more dejected child than Dick as the boy limped out to the car, setting his suitcase in the back and sliding into the passenger seat.
The boy was sporting a black eye that looked painful, he looked pale, and he could see a yellowing bruise on the back of his hand. But what really worried him was the look in the boy's eyes. They looked… hollow. Numb, almost. Like he'd given up.
It was chilling to Bruce hiw similar the biy's eyes looked to those of a corpse- he'd seen many corpses before, from his own parents to bodies of the cruel victims that Gotham claimed. Not this boy, he vowed to himself. He wouldn't allow him to give up.
Dick looked over at him, studying him for a moment as they pulled out before he spoke.
"Are you Bruce?" he asked quietly.
Bruce nodded. "I'm Bruce, son. The papers have to go through, but soon Scarlet will be at the manor, too."
Dick gave him an exhausted smile, before leaning his cheek against the cool glass of the window. "He was right." He muttered. "He was a good guy."