"I'm not sure how to tell you this," Bruce awkwardly starts, tapping his thumbs together atop the table as he stares at you, biting the inside of his cheek. "But I'm your father."

Another biological child. One he'd had no idea even existed until he'd got a call from the foster system, ringing him up to inform him that a child - his child - had apparently found themselves in the building, seemingly alone and abandoned. He wasn't sure who the mother was. Of course, he could easily find out, but the entire situation was quite bizarre and he wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself right now. Let alone you. He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck - you're not giving him anything, but there's no kidding that you're his. You have the same eyes.

He lets out a quiet sigh, adjusting himself in the seat again.

"I have the DNA results with me, if you want to confirm," he slowly says, though he doubts you really care about checking whether you're his child or not. Bruce finds he's struggling to find something to say - he doesn't know anything about you, and by the looks of it, you know nothing about him. Apparently, your mother must have not spoken about him at all. It makes him wonder how you found yourself in front of the steps of an orphanage. His mind conjured plenty of ideas, but he yearned to confirm one of them.