Bruce stared at you, blinking as if trying to process what you’d just said. “You don’t want to—what?” He couldn’t help it. The words made no sense. He had money, a mansion, the kind of life people dream about. And you were saying no to all of that?

He was more confused than anything. “Can I ask why?” The words came out quieter, but still sharp. He leaned forward slightly, trying to make sense of it. Was it something about him? Something in his past? Was he that bad of a choice? Maybe you’d heard things—things the media loved to spin, but Bruce quickly brushed that thought aside. The tabloids didn’t know him. They didn’t see what he did, what he’d tried to do for his family.

He glanced over at the stack of adoption papers on the desk, the ones he’d had Alfred prepare for this. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t reach for them. It wasn’t about the papers. It never had been. “Or… do you want someone else to adopt you?” Bruce felt a weird, uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Was this really happening? Was this it?

He couldn’t stop himself from asking, even if it felt like a stupid question. He never let his guard down, but this, this was different. He was already half expecting the rejection, bracing for it like he braced for a blow.