And here we begin the extended content! I originally planned to end this with a filler summary and an open ending, but enough people (and myself) wanted more transition, settling-in content, so here we are! Prepare for lots more fluff, a bit of angst, some minor panic attacks, and tons of brotherly and family bonding.

Enjoy!

Chapter 17: Living the Dream?

Once all the shopping bags were delivered to their rooms, Harry found himself sitting in the middle of all of them, feeling dizzy. All that stuff was his. Harry had never owned anything before that wasn't already beat up, worn out, broken, or throw away. And now he didn't know what to do with it. Alfred had said he was welcome to put his things away to his liking. But Harry had never, not once, had anywhere special just for him. (Well, he'd had his cupboard. But he was old enough and it had been long enough that Harry vaguely registered how wrong that had been.)

Harry felt so dizzy.

Was he dreaming?

Was he sick?

Was this—was this his magic? Giving him some kind of—of vision of everything he'd ever wanted? He'd once tried to create an illusion. (It had been number 12 on Tim's list of 100 Things Harry Should Learn To Do With Magic.) Was that what this was?

Oh. Tim.

Tim was right next door now. And Tim didn't know that they'd been kidnapped—adopted?—by Batman!

(And if Harry ever needed a friend, it was now.)

…Jason probably felt just as overwhelmed.

Harry darted next door to find Jason mechanically putting his things away, a far-off look on his face. His tattered red backpack was a little fuller than it had been, too.

"Jay?"

Jason startled, turned, and blinked. Then he tried to smile.

"You settling in okay, little hawk?"

Harry bit his lip and shook his head. "I…I don't know what to do next. I—Am I dreaming, Jay? Did I fall off a roof or get hit in the head and this is all just a really, really good dream I'm about to wake up from?"

Jason helpfully pinched Harry's arm. He yelped and scowled, only to find Jason smiling properly at him, though it still looked a little strained.

"If that hurt, it can't be a dream." Then Jason tilted his head. "Though I didn't feel anything, so…"

Harry pinched him back, pouting.

Jason let slip a curse (okay, maybe Harry had pinched him just a little too hard. But Jason was being dumb). "Okay, fair. It's not a dream."

"Can—it's still light out. Do—do you think Bruce and Alfred would let us explore outside? Or—or go next door?" Harry asked.

Jason's eyes widened, then he grinned and pulled Harry into a huge hug. "You're a tiny genius, little hawk!"

"We can ask Dick. He sorta counts as an adult, right? So we don't even need to bother Bruce!"

Jason grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "Yep. Let's go. He said he'd be in his room, right?"

Harry nodded.

Still grinning, Jason grabbed Harry's hand and gently tugged him along. But then Jason hesitated outside the door with the circus poster. So Harry knocked instead.

"Um, Dick?" Harry called hesitantly.

Some shuffling noises, then the door opened. Dick grinned at them. "Hiya, kiddos! Do you need help putting things away?"

Jason lightly nudged Harry forward. "Um. No? I mean, um. We…uh, can we have a tour? Of the grounds?"

Dick tilted his head. "The grounds? Not the house?"

Harry shrank in on himself just a little. "Um. It's just...I—we're not used to—to being inside so much. We—we're used to going wherever we want. And, um. I—we'd really like to know…how far we're allowed to go? Outside? You can give us a tour of the house later."

Dick pursed his lips, then shrugged. "Sure. There's still time before dinner. Lemme get my shoes and I'll show you to the back door." Dick vanished from the doorway for a moment, then came back carrying his sneakers. Neither Harry nor Jason had ever taken their shoes off, so they were ready to go.

Grinning, Dick led the way through the house, back downstairs toward the dining room, then he cut through the kitchen to a breakfast nook tucked away in the back corner of the house. A sliding glass door led out onto a covered patio, then a stone path led away toward a garden.

"There's one other back door, on the other side of the house, but no one goes over there, so we use this one instead," Dick explained. He whipped out his phone—and it was a smartphone!— and sent a text message. Seeing Harry's curious look, Dick grinned and flipped the screen around. "Just letting B and Alfred know I'm taking you outside, so they don't freak out if they can't find you later."

Harry and Jason both tensed, but it was Jason who asked, "…What would happen if they couldn't find us?"

Dick shrugged. "B might yell a little, once you came back, but it'll mostly be because he was worried. And you'd get a lecture about letting him know where you were. If you purposefully sneak out, you'll also get grounded." Dick grinned sharply. "I spent my whole first year here almost perpetually grounded because I kept sneaking out."

Harry's eyes widened. "But why? Didn't—didn't you like it here?"

Dick slid the door open and ushered them outside. The air was thick and humid, given it was the middle of an August afternoon. "To be honest? No. I hated it. It was too big, too quiet, too empty, and I had just lost my parents." Dick smiled a little as he led them down the path. "Honestly, anything you guys do, I can almost guarantee I've already done it at least a dozen times, and probably done worse to boot. So I can promise you, B won't hurt you. The worst you'll get is a stern lecture and maybe a raised voice if you really mess up. Alfred just gives you this look that makes you feel about two inches tall. So listen to Alfred," Dick said in a fake-lecturing tone.

Jason frowned, clearly not convinced. Harry stared, his mouth slightly open in awe that anyone could hate living what was literally Harry's dream.

Dick's face softened a little, then he made a wide, sweeping gesture to encompass the garden around them. "By the way, welcome to Alfred's garden! Most of our spices he grows fresh, and some of our vegetables, too. The flowers are his pride and joy. And definitely stay away from his roses."

Harry blinked at the sudden change in tone.

With that, Dick properly began the tour. Once they left the garden—which was huge, complete with a gazebo and a little fish pond—a grassy meadow dotted with wildflowers sprawled out in front of them, going on for at least a few hundred meters, backed up against a literal forest. Harry had never seen so much open space before! And the trees were huge! Thick, tall, and so green, but all different shades and shapes!

"The grounds go back a good ways, but there's an old stone wall that marks the boundary line all the way around," Dick explained. "So if you haven't hit the wall yet, you're still on Wayne property," he added with a wink. "However, I would not recommend exploring in the woods without a way to contact the manor the first few times; it's easy to get lost in there if you're not careful."

"We're allowed to explore?" Harry asked in awe. "Like, go anywhere inside the wall?"

Dick grinned and ruffled his hair, which made Harry jump a little. "You betcha. But again, probably don't go exploring alone until you're familiar with the grounds, except in the meadow where you can see the manor easily."

Harry just stared. This—this was literally a dream come true. It was like a fairy tale come to life! It—it was too good to be true. There was no way a fr—someone like Harry was allowed any of this. It…it couldn't last. There was no way it could last.

But.

But it was here now. And if there was one lesson Harry had learned on the streets (and with the Dursleys), it was to take advantage of every good thing while it was there. Because if you hesitated, or waited for permission or approval, it'd be gone before you could blink.

So. For right now, Harry would (cautiously) accept his good fortune. He'd wear that hawk t-shirt and the matching red shoes. He'd sleep in the soft, soft bed with the warm, soft blankets. He'd eat Alfred's delicious and amazing food.

Because yeah, it would hurt when it was gone. It would hurt a lot. But it was better to have had it once and then lose it, than to never have it at all. The memories would be worth it. Right?

(They had to be.)

The rest of Dick's tour passed in a blur of awe. And in the face of everything, Harry forgot all about sneaking next door. They wouldn't have been able to anyway, with Dick watching them so closely. They'd have to try again another day.

They got back to the manor just in time for dinner. Harry started off with enthusiasm, but halfway through the meal he felt his eyelids drooping. Voices faded into white noise as his eyelids slid lower and lower.

Then thin, familiar arms maneuvered him out of his seat and onto a familiar back. Harry tucked his nose into Jason's neck with a sleepy murmur, his arms and legs automatically latching on. This was familiar. Late evenings at the library, or a long day of jacking tires or running from muggers and angry shopkeepers, a twisted ankle or a scraped knee, or the second time he got really sick, Jason had carried him like this. Harry used to pout, but Jason never gave in, so Harry had given up. (He'd never admit that he loved it.)

Lulled by Jason's familiar gait, trusting his big brother to bring him safely home, Harry let his eyes fall shut.

For the second time in as many days, Harry woke up somewhere unfamiliar. His eyes flew open, to see cream-colored walls, then a dozen colorful shopping bags, and then it all fell back into place.

He was in Wayne Manor.

Harry was in Wayne Manor!

Torn between horror and excitement, Harry leaped out of bed, then re-made it to immaculate perfection. No creases in the sheets or comforter, the pillows fluffed and replaced exactly as before; everything had to be perfect because it was so nice and Mr. Wayne had been so nice in letting him sleep there. Harry didn't want to get in trouble for leaving a mess (Aunt Petunia would screech at him if she found so much as a piece of lint or a single crease).

Then Harry stumbled back, realizing he was still in yesterday's borrowed clothes. He cringed, already hearing Aunt Petunia's scolding because only dirty freaks wear the same clothes two days in a row!

Harry's gaze drifted to the bags, still scattered on the floor by the dresser. One had tipped over, the shirts spilling onto the carpet.

Clean that up, freak!

Harry leapt to obey, quickly and methodically putting all the clothes away in the dresser. Except for the dress shirt and pants. Those were immediately hung in the closet, after Harry did his best to smooth out any wrinkles.

Then Harry faced a dilemma. The clothes he'd just put away were his, technically. But they were brand-new! Freaks didn't get new things!

But Alfred had taken his old clothes. All he had were the borrowed clothes…and the new ones.

But he couldn't wear the same clothes twice in a row. Not here, in what was basically a mansion!

And Mr. Wayne had been so nice in buying them…

And nice things had to be enjoyed while they lasted.

Biting his lip, Harry gingerly picked out the red hawk shirt and the grey skinny jeans, and a clean pair of socks and underwear (brand-new, straight from the package!). He carried it all into the bathroom and folded the clothes neatly on the counter. Then he took a quick shower because Aunt Petunia would be knocking on the door any moment!

Quickly Harry dressed in the new clothes and—oh. They were so soft. And they fit. They fit just right.

Harry sniffed, then impatiently rubbed his face. He couldn't cry. Boys didn't cry. Even freaks shouldn't cry. And it was freaky to cry over something as simple as new clothes that fit.

Sniffing once more, sure that he had it under control, Harry put the borrowed clothes in the hamper. Then, as quietly as he could, he tip-toed to the door and cracked it open. He didn't know what time it was. It felt early, because the house was so quiet.

Was he actually awake before Aunt Petunia?

Wait. No. This wasn't Privet Drive.

But Harry could all too easily picture Aunt Petunia ordering around the house staff of a manor. Mr. Wayne had been so nice yesterday. But what if that was only temporary? What if he was actually really, really strict? Who's to say he wasn't exactly like Aunt Petunia?

So Harry quickly, but quietly, slipped down to the kitchen—

only to freeze in shock because Mr. Wayne was already there. And so was Dick! And Jason! And—and breakfast was already made. They were already eating!

Harry was late! Too late!

Mr. Wayne looked up, spotted him, and Harry froze.

This is it. He didn't wake up early enough to make breakfast, and now he'd be yelled at. Probably smacked around. And maybe he'd be kicked out and—oh.

Harry thought it would last at least a little longer. (Hope hurt, but hope was all he had.)

Harry shrank against the wall and opened his mouth to apologize—

but nothing came out.

"Harry! You're just in time!" Dick exclaimed cheerfully. "Come on; we saved you a plate!"

Harry blinked (his eyes stung). "I—I can eat?" he barely whispered. "E-even though—even though I was late?"

Mr. Wayne—no, it was Bruce; he'd said to call him Bruce—made some sort of choking noise, then cleared his throat and smiled. But it looked off. Strained.

"Of course you can eat!" Bruce insisted. He gestured to the empty place setting next to Jason.

Harry's gaze flickered to the others in the room until he finally met Jason's gaze. Jason looked a little angry, but once his gaze met Harry's, he nodded very pointedly and jerked his head toward the empty setting.

Tentatively, Harry edged along the wall, keeping his distance from Bruce (who even sitting down was really, really big, his muscles showing even through the worn, loose t-shirt he wore. Then Harry took one step, then two toward the table when—

"There is no set time for breakfast in this household, Master Harry," came Alfred's voice as he emerged from the kitchen.

Harry flinched violently at his sudden entrance and shrunk back against the wall, wishing he could disappear because they were all staring and drawing attention was bad and he was supposed to be invisible but they were staring and he couldn't breathe and the only time anyone paid attention this long was to yell or to hit and—

Bruce rose halfway from his chair and Harry flinched even harder, slipping to the floor and covering his head with his arms and

"Please don't hit me I'm sorry I didn't mean to be late I'm sorry please I won't do it again please don't hit me please I'm sorry—"

Raised voices. A large shadow in the corner of his eye. Harry shrank into the wall, curling up even smaller because please don't notice me please don't hurt me I'm sorry I'm sorry

"BACK OFF!"

Thin arms around his shoulders, a familiar chest beneath his cheek, fingers threading through his hair.

Harry choked on a sob and latched on to his big brother's shirt. Jason pulled him in tight, almost painfully so, but if Jason was here then Harry was safe. If he was with Jason then he wasn't there.

"Shh. I've got ya, little hawk. I've got ya. You're okay. I'm okay. Everything's gonna be okay," Jason murmured.

Harry's breath hitched and he held on tighter. Jason's chest rose and fell steadily, exaggeratedly. Automatically Harry started matching his breaths to Jason's. And gradually, the panic receded and awareness returned.

Then Harry became conscious of two sets of eyes boring into him. He hid his face in Jason's chest, his cheeks heating.

"You back now, little hawk?" Jason murmured.

"Mm." Harry burrowed deeper, embarrassment flooding his face and stomach.

Jason squeezed him a little tighter, then slowly let go. "C'mon. You still need to eat. I ain't lettin' ya leave without breakfast."

"Mm."

This time Jason chuckled a bit, then, with a slight grunt of effort, he lifted Harry right off the ground.

Harry yelped, his eyes flying wide.

Grinning, Jason carried him (a little awkwardly) over to the table and plopped him down in his chair.

Bruce and Dick were nowhere to be seen.

That explained why Jason was letting his guard down a little.

Jason then proceeded to load Harry's plate with food and push a fork into his hands. "Eat, little hawk."

Hesitantly, Harry took a bite. Then another. And another, because he'd never had pancakes this soft and fluffy before. And they were sweet, and doused in maple syrup, and this was the best thing he'd ever tasted!

Jason laughed and ruffled Harry's hair, then returned to his own half-eaten meal.

A little while later, as Harry was finishing, he heard footsteps from the kitchen. Harry tensed, cautiously lifting his head to see Alfred coming to a stop almost ten feet away.

"I apologize most sincerely for startling you, Master Harry," Alfred said quietly. "I will make an effort to ensure you notice me coming in the future."

Harry hunched his shoulders, unsure what to do with an adult apologizing to him. Adults never apologized to kids. It just didn't happen! (Except when Aunt Petunia said sorry to Dudley, but Harry suspected that had never been a real apology anyway. It was always after Dudley threw a tantrum.)

Jason nudged Harry's arm. Harry shot him a quick glare, then straightened up, doing his best to look Alfred in the eye. "That's okay," Harry said quietly. "I—I forgive you." That was the right answer, right? When his teachers had tried to make the other kids apologize, the script had always gone, "I'm sorry for…" or "I apologize for…" and then you were supposed to respond with "I forgive you."

No one had ever apologized to Harry before, though. It was strange.

Nice. But strange.

Alfred smiled and dipped his head slightly. "Thank you. Now if you have finished eating, Master Dick informed me that you were interested in exploring the grounds further. I recommend you do so this morning before it gets too warm. And if you're feeling up to it, Master Bruce would like to apologize as well."

Harry's eyes went wide. (So did Jason's.)

"Mr. W—Bruce wants to apologize? To me?" Harry asked.

Alfred's eyes twinkled. "Indeed. I was a bit surprised myself; he rarely apologizes for anything. But he and Master Dick were quite distressed when they realized they had scared you."

Harry kept staring, his mouth halfway open, until Jason poked him in the ribs and nudged his mouth shut.

"You tryna catch flies, little hawk?" he teased.

Harry snapped his mouth shut and elbowed Jason in the ribs. He grunted, muttering under his breath.

Alfred smiled fondly at them. "It is your choice if you wish to hear him out. Master Bruce will be in his study most of the day."

Harry hesitated, reaching hesitantly for Jason's hand.

Jason tensed, then exhaled slowly. "I'll go with you if ya want," he said quietly.

"And I'm certain Master Dick would accompany you as well," Alfred added kindly. "But whatever you decide, I promise it will be all right."

Harry nodded slowly, closing his hand around Jason's. "I—I wanna go now," he said quietly. "Get it over with, y'know?"

Jason squeezed his hand. "Then let's go. Then we're spendin' the day explorin' the grounds. Okay?"

Harry gave a tiny smile. "Okay."

Alfred gave them directions to Bruce's study, then sent them off with a smile. They found the study without too much trouble—it was pretty much right at the top of the stairs, after all—then, steeling all his courage, Harry knocked on the heavy oak door.

"Come in," came Bruce's muffled voice.

Harry squeezed Jason's hand even tighter, then with his other hand he cautiously turned the handle and stepped inside.

The study was big, bigger than Harry had thought. There was room for a huge desk and chair, a three-seater couch, and a wall of bookshelves plus the huge grandfather clock (which, Harry remembered, led into the Batcave), with plenty of space to stand or walk in between.

It was really, really intimidating.

And when Bruce looked up—and then down—to see who it was, Harry squeaked and ducked behind Jason.

Jason, who had squared his shoulders and was staring at Bruce defiantly, but who was shaking, ever so slightly, and his hand tightened painfully around Harry's.

Thankfully, Bruce remained seated, with the huge desk between him and them. So Harry finally gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and stepped out from behind his big brother.

"A-Alfred said…you wanted to…tell me something?" Harry asked quietly, barely able to lift his gaze past the top of the big wooden desk.

Bruce seemed to tense, then he leaned forward—slowly, so as not to startle them—and looked directly at Harry.

(It made him even more nervous, but he stood his ground.)

"Alfred…was correct," Bruce began, halting but sincere. "I…admit I am…inexperienced in dealing with…children like you outside of Batman. Dick was…difficult in his own way, but…you are not Dick, and…I neglected to consider that before acting. So I…would like to…apologize for not considering your situation before approaching."

Harry's jaw dropped. Alfred was one thing; he was just the butler. But this was Bruce Wayne, this was Batman, apologizing, to Harry (to the freak).

Jason was staring, too.

A few seconds passed, and Bruce started to shift awkwardly.

Then Jason nudged Harry in the ribs (again!). "Well, say somethin', little hawk," he muttered.

Harry snapped to attention, so abruptly that Jason jumped a little, and even Bruce looked startled.

"Um!" Harry began, then he froze at the sudden attention. "Um," he tried again, "I, uh…forgive you," he began awkwardly. "Y-you didn't, um, you didn't know. And, uh, I'm not—I'm not used to…that? I mean, it—it's happened before, but that was—that was at Halloween, and only once or twice, um, before that, so—so it's fine. And, and Jay, he—he knows how—I mean, he's seen me—he, uh. He knows how to help. So. It's. It's fine?"

Bruce's gaze suddenly sharpened, and Harry shrank back, ever so slightly.

Immediately Bruce sat back, and Harry felt himself relax at the increased distance.

"You said this has happened before?" Bruce asked, his eyes flicking over to Jason, who tensed.

"Yeah. What of it?" Jason challenged.

Bruce raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not judging. But, I would like to understand why it happened, so I can avoid triggering another." His gaze sharpened once more. "Harry? Lad? Can you tell me a little about where you were before the streets?"

Harry opened his mouth, then froze, shrinking back into Jason. "Y-you're not gonna—gonna send me back. Are you?" he asked in a small voice.

Jason immediately wrapped his arms protectively around Harry from behind, glaring at Bruce. "You'd better not," he said fiercely.

"No, not at all. But in order for me to obtain legal custody of Harry, his previous guardians need to be accounted for. They'll easily be charged with child abandonment, but the more information I have, the easier it will be to ensure Harry can stay." Bruce turned his attention back to Harry, his face softening ever so slightly. "Harry? Can you tell me your full name? And who your aunt and uncle are?"

Harry shrank back into Jason, whose arms tightened around him even more. "You—you won't send me back? Promise?"

"I promise."

Batman promised, Harry told himself. And they don't want me anyway. It's fine. It'll be fine.

Harry grasped Jason's wrists and held on tight. "M-my full name is Harry James Potter," he whispered. "And-and my aunt and uncle a-are P-Petunia and Vernon Dursley."

Bruce quickly noted the names on a notepad. "How did your aunt and uncle treat you, Harry?"

Harry turned into Jason's chest. "They didn't like me. They spoiled my cousin Dudley, but I—I only got his hand-me-downs. He—he always picked on me, and—and blamed me for things I didn't do. And A-Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, they—they yelled at me when I messed up, and U-uncle Vernon—"

You wanna cry, I'll give you somethin' to cry about!

Harry shook his head, lightly grasping Jason's shirt. "A-and then they—they left me. On the street."

Jason hugged him a little tighter.

Bruce made a note.

"Why were you staying with your aunt and uncle?"

High-pitched laughter.

Green.

A scream.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Jason's chest. "M-my parents are—they—"

They died in a car crash, boy! Drunk and reckless like a couple o' freaks! Just like you!

"They died when I was one," Harry managed, his voice catching.

Jason inhaled sharply and pulled him in even tighter. Harry hid his face against his brother's chest, grasping the front of his shirt with trembling fingers.

Bruce drew in a sharp breath, too. Harry heard the light scratch of a pen on paper. Then:

"That's all I needed. You're so brave, Harry, lad. Thank you."

Harry caught his breath.

No one had ever called him brave before.

"You boys are free to go. With any luck, I'll have official custody as an emergency foster placement by the end of the week, and then we can file for adoption."

Adoption?

Batman—Bruce—wanted to adopt them?

Bruce wanted him? Him, Harry? The freak?

Harry barely registered Jason leading him away. A few minutes later, they were settled on the chair in Jason's room. Jason pulled Harry into his lap, then Harry tucked himself into Jason's chest, fully and completely overwhelmed.

It took until lunchtime for Harry to calm down and finally start wrapping his head around the fact that this was real, this was happening. He stayed quiet and only Jason's encouragement ensured Harry finished his lunch. Then Dick drew them a little map of the grounds and handed Jason an extra cell phone (who has extra cell phones laying around? Especially a WayneTech SmartPhone!).

"If you get lost, you can call the house number, me, Alfred, or Bruce and we'll come get you," Dick explained. "The numbers are already programmed in. I'd go with you, but I have some stuff to do this afternoon."

Jason held the phone like it would shatter into a million pieces if he so much as looked at it wrong. "I—this—"

"It is for your safety, Master Jason," Alfred said, gently but firmly. "I will also be outside in the garden, so if you need something, you can always shout for me."

Harry's eyes widened a little. They were allowed to shout? Sure, they'd be outside, but even Dudley got reminded to keep his voice down sometimes.

Jason swallowed hard and carefully tucked the phone into the zipper pocket of his cargo pants. "O-okay," he said, a little hoarsely.

Harry gripped the strap of his little side bag, already packed with a plastic water bottle, a few granola bars, and an apple. (Plus his pocket knife.) He was both nervous and excited, because he couldn't wait to see the grounds, but they were also going to try to find a way to sneak next door to say hi to Tim and explain their new living situation. And if they got caught—Harry shivered. He didn't want to imagine what might happen.

Finally, Alfred and Dick deemed them ready to go. Dick winked at them and hurried upstairs. Alfred ushered them out the same back door by the breakfast nook, then took up a seat in the shade of the gazebo with a book and a small fan. It was mostly cloudy, but the air was thick and humid.

"Do enjoy yourselves, boys, but do be careful as well. Remember, call or shout if you need anything."

Harry nodded. "Okay," he said quietly while Jason bobbed his head beside him. He carried his own messenger bag, too, packed like Harry's but with some additional first aid supplies, leftovers from their base. Just in case.

Alfred smiled, then waved them off. Jason glanced at Harry, then, with a faint smile growing on his face, he grabbed Harry's hand and together they hurried off.

They really did explore. They didn't go too deep into the woods, not wanting to get lost, but the shade and a cool breeze was a nice break from the humid, sticky air. They also found a little creek running through, and Jason and Harry couldn't resist the temptation to dip their feet in. Then they started angling toward the west, where Drake Manor should be. Harry even scrambled up a tree near the edge of the wooded area, with almost as much ease as climbing a fire escape, and called down that he could see the roof of the manor in the distance.

Then Harry shimmied down the tree trunk, landing with a thud and a wide grin. He grabbed Jason's hand and ran off in the direction of Drake Manor.

It was…further than it looked. And the grounds were bigger than Harry had anticipated. By the time the border wall was in sight, half-hidden in a tangle of vines and bushes, Harry felt like he'd just run several miles all at once. His thighs and calves ached and the thick, humid air made it hard to catch his breath. Jason wasn't any better off. Both of them were also sweaty, sticky, and covered in little scratches from the tall grass and Harry from climbing the tree.

"I dunno…if we'll make it today, little hawk," Jason said breathlessly.

Harry pouted. "But we've been meeting every other day. If Tim doesn't see either of us tonight, he's gonna worry, or worse, he'll think we've forgotten him! We've gotta try!"

Jason checked the time on the phone Dick had given him (after carefully wiping his hands on his shirt). Then he blanched. "We've already been gone more than two hours!"

"But we weren't given a time limit," Harry pointed out. "It should be fine as long as we're back by sunset, right?"

"Suns—Harry, it's only three in the afternoon!" Jason exclaimed. "No way they'd let us run around for another four hours. Not two random street kids that were only picked up two days ago. We'll be lucky if they don't think we've already run away!"

Harry frowned. "The Dursleys never cared, 's long as I got back when Dudley did. Sometimes he'd spend all afternoon just chasing me around with his friends."

"Your aunt and uncle are not normal and therefore should not be used as a baseline for any reasonable adult behavior," Jason said firmly. "Normal adults actually care when kids are gone for more than an hour without communication. Even my mom got worried if I wasn't home within an hour after school finished."

"So we should just let Tim worry, then?" Harry challenged.

Jason gripped Harry's shoulders and looked at him very firmly. "Harry. Little hawk. We're brand-new here. We don't know the rules. We don't know what we can get away with."

"But Dick—"

"Dick is an established part of the household," Jason interrupted. "Of course he'll get away with stuff. But we're not him. For all we know, Bruce just grabbed us as a tax write-off or something, and that's only if he has no other ulterior motives."

"But Jay, he's Batman!"

"He's also a rich, powerful man who can do whatever he wants if he throws enough money around," Jason said firmly. "We gotta be careful. We can't be pushin' boundaries this soon, or someone's gonna get hurt. And that's only if he doesn't kick us out the first time we mess up."

"But—"

Jason gripped Harry's shoulders a little tighter. "Sorry, little hawk. But this time you gotta listen to me. I'm your big brother, right? That means I know more than you. Which means I know how to keep us safe. Right?"

Hesitantly, Harry nodded.

"Good. So we'll head back now, because I don't want anyone gettin' hurt. We'll make it up to Timmy as soon as we can, but we gotta be careful or we'll end up right back where we started."

Harry pouted, but he conceded. He wished he'd figured out how to send messages with magic (that was Number 34 on Tim's list). But instead, he just sent a sad, regretful look in the direction of Drake Manor before letting Jason lead him away.

I'm coming back, Tim. I promise, Harry thought as Jason tugged him back toward Wayne Manor.