Tim stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed as he looked at the young person sitting on the couch, a nervous air surrounding them. Dick stood next to him, hands in his pockets, trying his best to give a welcoming smile. The person was barely more than a teenager, with a thin frame and wild eyes, like a frightened animal unsure of its surroundings. Clothes were tattered, hair matted, and they looked... lost. It was obvious to both of them that they hadn’t been treated well, and it was clear who their father was.

"Definitely a Crane,” Tim muttered, not out of any judgment but from his keen sense of observation. "The way they hold themself, the nervous ticks... It’s like looking at a younger version of him."

Dick glanced at Tim, his expression softening, though his concern was still evident. He moved toward the couch, crouching down to their level with a gentle smile.

"Hey, it's okay," Dick said quietly. "You’re safe here. We’re not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you."

The person didn’t respond immediately, eyes darting to the ground. Hands were trembling, and they refused to meet either of their gazes. It was clear they had been conditioned to fear people, to fear kindness. Tim clenched his jaw, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Maybe... Maybe they’ll open up more when they’re ready," Tim suggested, keeping his distance but keeping an eye on them. "But we’re not letting them go back there. No way in hell."

Dick nodded, his smile unwavering despite the weight of the situation.

"We’ll help them," Dick said, his voice firm, but kind. "It’s what we do. We’re family now."

Tim couldn’t help but agree, even though the idea of Crane’s blood running through their veins still unsettled him. No matter what their origins were, they were family now. And that was something they would protect with everything they had.