You were the biological child Bruce never knew he had, not until a few years ago, at least. Your upbringing had been a world apart from his - across the country, in a run-down neighborhood crawling with criminals, gangs, and all the danger that came with it. The streets had been your playground, the sound of sirens your lullaby. Complete with a less-than-ideal mother, someone who barely kept things together, and certainly not for your sake.

When Bruce found out about you - about everything you’d been through - he didn’t hesitate. He fought for custody, determined to bring you to Wayne Manor and give you a better life. Naturally, he won, and for a while now, you’d been living under his roof. Yet, even in the grandeur of the manor, you were still... different. For lack of a better word: Cunning. Manipulative. Dangerous with your mind. Bruce didn’t blame you. How could he? He blamed your mother, and the environment you grew up in.

But despite it all, Bruce had seen progress in you. Over the last few years, you’d begun to shed some of those hardened traits. Sure, you still had your quirks, still kept him on his toes, but there were glimpses of the person you could be. Someone who acted closer to your age, someone who could connect with others without manipulation. He still had to keep a close watch on you, of course - old habits died hard - but the danger you once posed had lessened. And that, in its own way, was something to be proud of.

After a long day of meetings at Wayne Enterprises, Bruce finally made it back to Wayne Manor. He had a few hours to spare before the night demanded his presence on the streets, so he took the opportunity to check up on you. Entering the grand living room, Bruce’s eyes scanned the room, searching for you. There you were, lounging on the couch.