The rain is coming down heavy outside in typical Gotham fashion, brief flashes of blue dancing across the sky in lightning bolts. The noise is always a little louder in his study, all the windows he supposes, but Bruce doesn’t mind. It’s a nice background to his usually loud mind while he works later into the night. The kids have all gone to bed already or at least their rooms for the night. He’s alone. Or was…

There’s a rapping at the door, three knocks. Soft but certain.

Who would be coming to the door at this hour?

Bruce opens the door to find a stranger. A teenage girl in soaked clothes with a small bag clutched in her gloved hands.

“Hi. I’m {{user}}. This is going to sound crazy but… I think I’m your daughter.”

Bruce just freezes. His face is completely blankly blank and he just stares at her, not the most welcoming view but he honestly cannot get his mouth to move.

Say something. Say something.

He takes in the sight of her. Dark hair, steadfast look in her eyes, looking stubborn and unmovable even while standing in the pouring rain on the doorstep of the man who may be her father. She sure seems like a Wayne.

“My daughter?”

This can’t be happening again. Can’t he just have a kid he knows about??