1(800) Adoption Papers NOT needed! Its a two for one special! ( 1POV Version )

Who are you? Who, who, who, Who?

The house is quiet.

I barely hear the others' footsteps as they walk past my door. It's weird, I thought I would like this, but I can't help but wait for something to happen. For yells, explosions, or weapons firing off into the night.

But there's none of it, just silence.

I wake with the sun and watch as dark clouds cast the world into shades of gray. It's still early, so I start to unpack. Putting the clothes away was easy, but the rest took a little time. How do you hide stuff without Batman finding it? I could do like I did with the Fentons and put it in the walls, but knowing Batman stuff is already in there. To double-check, I stick my head through, and yep, it's lined with all kinds of wiring, much too new to come with the house initially. What does it do? I follow the wiring and look at where it's connected to, and from the looks of it, it's a sensor. Probably part of the house security system. I take my head out of the wall and check the floor, which is thankfully free of wires. I choose a few different areas and stock the med kits, rations, and other items. I end up putting the flash drive with the rope dart and daggers. My more normal, civilian things, I put up with little fanfare. For now, I'll keep the model rockets on the dresser. Hopefully, they'll let me hang them up; they would look cool amongst the new stars.

While looking through pictures, I hear a door slowly open. I look outside, hoping to get an idea of the time, but with all the clouds, I'm left guessing. Should I see who it is? I apprehensively make my way to the door, my hand hovering on the handle. I can't help but question, 'Do I really want to do this?' I'll have to meet them eventually, but I thought our first meeting would have Damien as a buffer. I know they've all seemed to take this in stride, letting a new person into their home, but it just doesn't feel right.

I'm invading their lives.

There's been much to watch in their civilian lives and on the vigilante scene over the years. Thanks quieted down after Damien came to live with Father, but that still doesn't mean everything's okay. Do I really want to be another complication? They're already helping me professionally. Is this too much to ask?  My mind flashes back to Father telling me, " It's time to come home," as I take a shaky breath and peek out the door.

I leave the room, my door squeaking, causing a man, more like a boy, to turn around. It's Tim; he's wearing a white T-shirt and jogging pants carrying an empty mug, " What are you doing in there? Did Bruce say when he's coming?" I walk forward, and just as I'm about to introduce myself, he ruffles my hair.

" Excuse me, but what are you doing,"

He chuckles," Just making sure you enjoy your last moments as the youngest little D," and walks down the stairs. What does he mean? He can't possibly think I'm Damien, could he? I look down at my raggedy NASA shirt and Sam's pair of sweatpants that I had " forgotten" to give back. I know I haven't been around him lately, but these don't seem like something he would wear.

I sigh and return to my room, " I guess I'll just introduce myself at breakfast then." I change out of pajamas into something a little nicer, meaning I change my sweatpants out for jeans, and make my way downstairs. Unsure of where to go exactly, I wander around. Last night I only got a chance to see the foyer and the path to the bedrooms. I go through many rooms filled with fine art and nice furniture until I start seeing stuff a little more worn. A sitting room that looks just as chaotic as anyone else's, but in a way that you know it's cared for, and continue on. I make my way past the entertainment room, and finally, I go into the library. I can't help but gawk at some of the works. The books are in their original jacket covers and look like they've never been opened. The collection itself rivals most public libraries. It's as if Ghost Writer had found a human residence. I stroll through and look at the variety; Jazz would love this.