Chapter Text
~January 2008~
Batman had expected cadges, armed guards, illegal weapons, buyers he wished he didn’t recognise. He’d expected files, shipments, routes, and names.
He didn’t expect the children.
He moved carefully through the warehouse that smelled like rust and fear, cutting the restraints and leading them outside the warehouse to the GCPD, where emergency blankets were wrapped around too small shoulders. Some cried, some screamed for their parents, and others clung to the nearest adult.
He’d counted them. Once, twice, three times.
The file said there was one more.
Subject 028.
Taken approximately five years ago.
Method of acquisition: payment settlement.
That was all he knew about her.
He found her near the back of the room, half-hidden beside a metal table.
She was the smallest child there. She looked about 7, maybe younger, judging by the sharpness of her wrists and the way the gray scrubs hung off her frame. Cream-colored fur covered her skin, broken by patches of orange and dark brown. Large pointed ears were pinned flat against her head, and a long calico tail curled tight around one ankle.
She was not crying.
That was what made Batman stop.
She stood with her back straight and her hands at her sides, waiting. Not hiding. Not running. Waiting, as someone had taught her, fear was only acceptable if it was silent.
A child was handed over as payment.
The thought made him sick to his stomach.
He approached slowly. The girl tracked every movement. Her eyes were electric blue, too bright in the dim warehouse light, too focused for a child who should have been asking for a blanket or a parent or a way out.
He stopped several feet away and knelt. Even then, he was too large. Too armored. Too much like every nightmare that had ever stood over her.
“You’re safe now,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as the cowl allowed. “No one here is going to hurt—”
“Are you the man who bought me?” she asked.
Batman went still.
Her head tilted slightly, like she was trying to understand why he had stopped. “Am I going to fight for you now?”
Behind him, Gordon said something to one of the officers. Batman didn’t hear it.
For one terrible second, all he could see was a child asking what kind of weapon she was expected to be next.
“No,” he said. The word came out rougher than he wanted. He forced it softer. “No one bought you.”
She blinked.
“You don’t belong to me,” Batman said. “You don’t belong to anyone.”
Her ears twitched, but she did not move.
He wanted to pick her up. The instinct hit hard enough to hurt. She was too small, too thin, too alone in a room full of people who had already failed her.
But she had just asked if he owned her.
So he did not touch her.
Instead, he held out one gloved hand, palm up. An offer. Nothing more.
“I’m going to help you,” he said. “If you’ll let me.”
She stared at his hand for a long time.
“I don’t have to fight?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
Bruce’s throat tightened. “Not for me.”
The answer seemed to confuse her more than comfort her. Her tail loosened by a fraction.
“Safe?” she whispered.
“Safe,” Batman promised.
Slowly, carefully, like she expected the offer to turn into a trick, she placed her small hand in his.
–
~The Next Day~
Alfred knocked on the mahogany door, softly, not wanting to scare their new guest. The door opened no wider than two inches. One electric-blue eye stared up at him through the gap, unblinking.
Alfred did not step closer. He kept his hands in front of him so she could see them.
“Forgive me if this is a bad time, or if I have awoken you, but Master Bruce is having breakfast downstairs and is wondering if you would care to join him.” He spoke, and the door opened just a touch wider to reveal a small, fluffy face.
The door opened a fraction wider. “Breakfast?”
“There will be toast,” Alfred added after a moment. “And eggs. And fruit, if you prefer something lighter.”
Her ears twitched. There it was. Hunger, carefully hidden. “Oh, uh, okay. I’m coming.”
“Very good, we shall be downstairs whenever you are ready.” Alfred inclined his head and stepped back, giving her room to close the door if she wished.
So small, Alfred thought, his expression remaining perfectly composed. Much too small.
What had they been feeding her?
The answer came to him before he wanted it to.
Not enough.
Very well, then. That, at least, was a problem he knew how to begin solving.
No child under this roof would be made to earn a meal.
Not while Alfred Pennyworth still drew breath.
–
What are you doing, Bruce? He thought. Adopting a child? You’re not ready for this! How do you even take care of one?
“Master Bruce,” Alfred's voice cut through his thoughts. “I would recommend composing yourself for your new ward.”
“Right. Thank you, Alfred.” Bruce rubbed his eyes and looked up to see the little girl’s small car ears heading this way. They were barely visible from behind the table. “Hi,” he said, slowly getting out of his chair and kneeling so he could be closer to eye to eye with her.
She tilted her head and widened her eyes slightly.
“You’re the man who saved me.” Her voice was small, but hit ad an air of confidence to it.
Bruce gulped slightly, but nodded. “Yes, I did.
Batman had a list of questions.
Bruce Wayne looked at the child across from him and hated every single one of them.
“Is it okay if I ask you a few questions?”
She only shrugged and climbed into the chair closest to the door. Not the closest to Bruce. Not the closest to the food. The closest to escape. and after struggling slightly, sitting in it.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
She shook her head.
“What’s your name?”
“028,” She said immediately. Bruce stiffened slightly. She tilted her head again. “That’s what they called me, so it’s my name.”
“Do you want a different name? One that isn’t numbers?” Bruce asked.
“Like what?” she asked.
Bruce didn’t understand at first.
Then he did.
She wasn’t asking which name he liked. She was asking what names were.
“Like mine,” he said, softer than before. “Bruce. And his name is Alfred.”
Her eyes flicked toward Alfred. “You both have words?”
Alfred’s expression did not change, but the teacup in his hand lowered slightly.
“Yes,” Bruce said. “And you can have one too.”
The little girl nodded slowly. “I think, I think I’d like that.”
“Okay,” Bruce gave her a small smile that he hoped looked friendly.
Her stomach growled. It would’ve gone unnoticed by anyone else, but Bruce was Batman. Her entire body changed. Her spine snapped straight, ears flattening hard against her skull. Her eyes darted from Bruce to Alfred to the door.
“No, sir,” she said.
Bruce froze. “I didn’t ask anything.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Alfred set a plate in front of her without comment. Toast. Eggs. Fruit that was cut into careful pieces.
“For whenever you decide,” Alfred said mildly.
She stared at the plate like it was a trap.
Bruce made himself lean back, giving her space. “You don’t have to call me sir.”
She looked around again, searching for someone who was not there. Slowly, when no punishment came, some of the tension left her shoulders.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Do you remember your parents?”
She went very still.
Bruce regretted it immediately.
“You don’t have to answer that.”
Her ears twitched. “I don’t?”
“No.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Then I don’t want to.”
“Okay,” Bruce said.
And for the first time since she had entered the room, she looked confused instead of afraid.
She looked around, as if searching for someone. She sudbulely relaxed, tension slowly leaking out of her body. “Okay…”
Bruce looked at the list of questions in his head and let every one of them burn.
“That’s enough questions for today.”
Her eyes lifted to his, startled.
“Do you want me to show you around the house?” he asked. Then, after a pause, “Only if you want to.”
She hesitated for a long time. Then she nodded.
Bruce offered his hand.
She stared at it like she expected it to close around her wrist.
It didn’t.
After a moment, she placed her small hand in his.
Bruce waited until she was ready before standing.
It was not much. It was not enough.
But it was a beginning.
–
~???~
“HEYYYYYY RV!”
Volt skidded past Red Vengeance’s armchair, socks sparking against the floor as she tried and failed to stop. She slammed into the bookshelf hard enough to rattle three framed photos and one deeply offended lamp.
Red Vengeance did not look up from her book.
“RV! RV! Red Vengeance. Vengeance of red. Scary murder lady. Keeper of secrets. Defender of idiots.”
“That last title is not mine,” Red Vengeance said.
“Sure it is!”
“What do you want?” Red Vengeance asked gruffly, putting a bookmark in her book and setting it to the side. She crossed her arms and gestured for Volt to speak her mind.
“Soooooo, hypothetically, if I put bright green dye in Quantum’s shampoo, would you hide me?” Volt asked, giving Red Vengeance a wide, pleading smile. “Or at least use your super-duper scary glare to get him to stop chasing me?”
Red Vengeance glared at the nuisance.
“Yes, that one!” She snapped her fingers.
Red Vengeance rolled her eyes and went back to her book. “You have super speed. Figure it out.” She deadpanned.
“VOLT!” Quantum’s voice rang out through the halls, and Volt cursed.
“Ouch. Betrayal. Emotional damage. I’m telling the head of MAL you’re mean to me.”
“The horror.”
Another shout echoed through the hall, closer this time.
Volt cursed, sparks gathering around her feet. “If I die, avenge me.”
“No.”
“Love you too, Veggie!”
She vanished in a rush of air.
Red Vengeance stared at the space for a moment longer than necessary.
Then she went back to her book.
“Idiot,” She muttered.
–
~February 2008~
Alfred found the dinner roll under her bed, tucked between the wall and the headboard, wrapped in a napkin, as if it were something shameful or something to hide.
He didn’t mention it. Or the other various foods stashed around the barren room he’d found that day.
The next morning, he placed a container arranged with foods he’d noticed she especially liked on her bedside table. Dried mango and strawberries were surrounded by an assortment of crackers inside it. A note rested on top in careful script.
For emergencies, if required.
When she came down the grand staircase later for dinner, Alfred just poured his tea and pretended not to notice her subtle stare.
There were no rolls beneath her bed or stashed anywhere else in her room since that day.
But the container always stayed full.
–
~???~
“Hey, I got you a coffee.” Volt ran up to Red Vengence with a coffee in hand. “Man, this universe’s pastry game sucks. I’ve eaten cardboard taster than the shit I ate.”
“Mm. Left hand, take coffee and lift it up to mouth. Mouth, sip the coffee.” Red Vengeance narrates.
“What are you doing?” Volt stifles a laugh.
“My broken brain won’t talk to my body, so I’m doing it. Blink.” Red Vengeance says as Volt starts to laugh, kneeling over and slapping her thigh.
“Growl at Volt.” Red Vengeance then growls threateningly at Volt.
“Oh my god!” Volt laughs. “This is hilarious!”
“Roll eyes, turn around, and walk away.”
–
~March 2008~
Bruce didn’t know how hard giving someone a choice could be.
“Purple sweater or blue sweater?” he asked one day.
She stared at the sweaters Bruce was holding up like they might explode, her ears flattening on her head.
Bruce waited. Alfred had told him that waiting was important. Leslie had told him patience was important. Every book he had bought on childhood trauma had told him, in increasingly academic language, not to loom over frightened children and demand emotional progress on a schedule.
After a few minutes, she said, “Whichever you want.”
His chest tightened.
“They’re both for you.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked between the two sweaters. “I can wear either?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not… wrong?”
“No.”
After another minute of waiting, she finally whispered, “The purple one.”
Bruce handed it to her carefully.
It wasn’t a huge victory, but it was the first thing she’d chosen that week.
–
~???~
“So you’re telling me,” Director pulled his hands over his face in annoyance. “That you punched Equinox in the face, giving them a black eye.”
“Yes, sir.” Red Vengeance rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “But in all fairness, he deserved it.”
“Why?” Director rubbed at his temples, obviously upset.
Red Vengeance suddenly got quiet. “He said that Volt should’ve died back in her old universe like she was supposed to.”
“And you heard it when no one else did, so you went to confront him.” Director summed up. He sighed. “I will talk with Equinox. His behavior will not go unpunished, I can assure you. But you can’t keep doing this, Vengeance. You’ve gotten in 4 fights in the past month, even if they all have probable cause. Do you understand me?”
Red Vengeance nodded grimly. “Yes, sir.”
–
~April 2008~
In some ways, Alfred could see why she was scared of the manor. Especially to someone who had never heard certain noises. He took it upon himself to explain the sounds to help her make sense of them.
The pipes groaned in the walls.
“Heating,” Alfred said, before she could ask.
The grandfather clock chimed.
“The hour.”
Wind pressed rain against the windows.
“Only weather.”
Floorboards creaked outside the study.
“Master Bruce, attempting and failing to walk quietly, back into the house from the Batcave.”
That earned him the smallest twitch of her ears. Not quite amusement. Not yet. But close enough that Alfred stored the moment away with great care.
By the end of April, she no longer flinched when the clock struck noon.
By the end of April, she knew Alfred’s footsteps from Bruce’s.
By the end of April, she stopped looking toward the door every time the house made a sound.
It was not trust.
Not fully.
But it was familiarity.
And familiarity, Alfred knew, could become the foundation of safer things.
–
~???~
“Come back, please.” Red Vengeance hated the tears that came to her eyes at the sight of Volt in the medical bed.
Not as much as she hated the person who did this. Fuck, Red Vengeance was glad there was a bullet in his skull now. He wouldn’t harm anyone in the multiverse ever again.
The heart monitor beeped steadily, and the rest of her vital signs were good. There was no reason Volt shouldn’t have woken up by now. The doctors said it was only a waiting game now.
She hated waiting.
But she did. She waited at the side of the only person who even somewhat liked her, like a dog waiting at the door for their owner to come home. She waited for hours, not doing much except talking until her voice went hoarse.
“I promise if you wake up, I’ll play a prank on whoever you want.” Red Vengeance placed her head on the bed. “Just please come back to me.”
“In that case-” Red Vengeance’s head snapped up, and she made eye contact with Volt for the first time in days. “I guess I have to wake up now.”
“You’re awake!” Red Vengeance couldn’t help but smile widely and brightly. She immediately enclosed her personal nuisance in a tight hug.
“Somewhat.” Volt coughed, and Red Vengeance pulled back. “Is that a smile I see?”
“Yeah, I’m too tired to control my facial muscles right now.”
“How long have you been sitting here?”
“About a week.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t just leave you alone, now could I?”
Volt smiled at Red Vengeance and whispered, “Thank you.”
–
~May 2008~
Bruce brought back a book of names.
“Subtle, Master Bruce,” Alfred said, after taking barely a glance at it.
Bruce ignored him and kept on his journey to the library. She was always in the library around this time, trying to teach herself to read.
He found her cross-legged on the floor, in a sunny spot, brows furrowed in concentration.
“Hey,” Bruce said, sitting next to her, setting the book down on his lap. “What are you reading?”
“The book you got for me yesterday.” She looked up from her book and gave him a slight smile.
“Do you like it?”
“I think I do.” She glanced down at the book in his lap. “What’s that?”
“Book of names. Do you want to look at it?”
She hesitated and then nodded slowly. Bruce moved the book to sit between them, and she opened the book with a careful claw.
“All of these are words for people?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And people choose them?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes they are given. Sometimes they change them later.”
She considered that with the seriousness of someone being offered a weapon.
Bruce wished, not for the first time, that he knew how to make this easier.
“You do not have to choose one today,” he said. “Or ever.”
“But I can?”
“Yes.”
She looked down at the page again. Then in a small voice, she asked, “Can you read them to me?”
Bruce read names until his voice went hoarse. She rejected most of them with tiny movements: an ear twitch, a nose wrinkle, a slow blink that somehow managed to convey deep offense.
Alfred suggested Jacintha while setting down tea.
028 wrinkled her nose. “Too proper.”
Bruce hesitated. “Jackie?”
Her ears twitched.
She did not say yes.
She did not say no.
But the next morning, when Alfred said, “Good morning, Miss Jackie,” she looked up before she remembered to be surprised.
Bruce had to leave the room.
–
~???~
“Why did you choose the name Red Vengeance?” Volt asked one day into her comms.“Is this really the best time?” Red Vengeance asked as she squirmed through the vents.
“I mean, Volt makes sense for me, it’s cause I’m fast,” Volt said. “But your name is kinda random.”
“Do you ever just have a thought and decide not to say it? Is that a thing you can physically do-”
“I feel like your name should be more based on your powers. Like Catlady! Or Feral Gremlin!”
“Stop-”
“Ooooo, what about Calico?”
“Volt! Shut the fuck up!”
A beat. Then, ”Sorry.”
There was scilance on the line. Finally.
After the job was all done and Red Vengeance met up with Volt to get back to MAL headquarters, She spoke, softly, like she was afraid.
“I chose my name before my memory was wiped. I don’t know why I chose it.” She walked through the portal without saying another word.
–
~June 2008~
Miss Jackie began to appear in the kitchen. Just in the doorway, silent and watchful. Ready to vanish if Alfred so much as looked in her direction.
So he didn’t.
He narrated his work as though she’d asked him to.
“Salt,” He said as he measured the precise amount. “Enhances flavor and balances out the sweetness.”
An ear twitch let him know she was listening.
“Butter. Provides flavor, tenderness, and structure.”
She stepped a foot into the kitchen.
Alfred continued narrating.
The next morning, she came closer.
The morning after that, she climbed onto the stool by the counter and watched his hands knead dough.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“The dough?”
She nodded.
“No, Miss Jackie. It is only being shaped.”
She looked at the dough for a long time.
Then, very quietly, “Can I help?”
Alfred placed a smaller piece in front of her.
“Of course.”
–
~???~
Volt placed an apple into Red Vengeance’s hand.
She looked at it.
“What. Is this?”
“Food?” Volt smirked. “The thing people eat when they get back from grueling missions.”
“I asked for the leather cleaner.”
“And I noticed you haven’t eaten in 4 hours.”
Red Vengeance glared at Volt. “I’m not hungry.” She set the apple on the counter.
Volt rolled her eyes and gave her the leather cleaner, saying, “Fine, then the apple can just sit there and emotionally support you.”
Red Vengeance stared at the apple like it personally offended her, before she grabbed it and took a bite out of it.
Volt’s grin went soft around the edges.
Red Vengeance pointed at her without looking up. “Do not.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Veggie.”
–
~July 2008~
Bruce found Jackie asleep in the library.
A few months ago, she saw the patch of afternoon sunlight beneath the tall windows. She avoided it like the plague at first. Then, slowly, she started to sit near it, inching closer to the sunlight week by week. Then she was in it, and Bruce would find her in that spot frequently, trying to read.
This was the first time he saw her sleeping in the sunny spot. She had one hand tucked under her cheek, and her tail loose against the soft carpet.
Loose.
Bruce stood in the doorway for much longer than he probably should’ve.
Six months ago, she’d asked if he’d bought her.
Now, she slept, sunbathing, in his library, and if he strained his ears, he could hear a slight rumbling noise that sounded suspiciously like purring.
He crossed the room carefully and draped a blanket over her shoulders.
She stirred.
For one sharp second, he expected her to flinch.
She didn’t.
Instead, she blinked up at him, slow and sleepy.
“Bruce?”
“Yes?”
“Are we having dinner soon?”
“In about an hour.”
“Oh.” She pulled the blanket closer. “Can we have pancakes tomorrow?”
Bruce’s throat tightened.
“That’s usually breakfast.”
She frowned, half-asleep. “But can we?”
He sat down in the chair beside her.
“Yes,” he said softly. “We can have pancakes tomorrow.”
She nodded, satisfied, and closed her eyes again.
A minute later, barely awake, she mumbled, “At home, pancakes can be dinner.”
Bruce went very still.
Home.
She had said it like it was obvious.
Like it belonged to her.
Bruce looked down at the child sleeping safely in the sun and did not trust himself to speak.
So he stayed.
And when Alfred found them there twenty minutes later, he said nothing at all.
–
~???~
Volt fell asleep halfway through her own sentence, head falling backward onto the couch, soft snores escaping her mouth.
Red Vengeance stared at her. Then, on the blanket on the back of the couch. Then back to Volt. She did that 3 more times.
“This is pitiful.” She murmured.
She waited about a minute, hoping that Volt woke up and saved her from doing something sentimental.
A loud snore escaped Volt’s mouth.
Red Vengeance sighed, grabbed the blanket, and draped it carefully over her teammate. She kept a watchful eye on her as she grabbed the book she was reading and stared at the page she was on, as if it personally offended her.
Vortex came in about an hour later, staring at the scene.
“If you speak,” she said without looking up from her book. “I will cut out your tongue and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Vortex walked backwards with both hands raised.