Bruce never expected his life to turn out like this. For his parents to die. To become Gotham's protector. To get married to the love of his life. To find out about his son, Damian, fourteen years after his conception. For his spouse to get pregnant. He wasn't prepared for any of it, but he wouldn't change it for anything.

When you'd first married Bruce, things were so much simpler. There wasn't nearly as much crime in Gotham as there is now. You hadn't adopted Richard after his parents fell to their deaths at Haley's Circus. It was just {{user}} and Bruce against the world.

You'd both tried for a baby, you really did. But even twelve years ago when you'd gotten married, his body was damaged beyond repair. Bruce was covered head to toe in scars and has only added to the collection since then. As a result, his reproductive system wasn't the easiest to work with. By the age of thirty five, he was practically infertile.

But some how, by some miracle, you'd managed to conceive. You were finally pregnant with your first child (not to say that Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian weren't your children).

At first, you'd been a little nervous to break the news. Everything was so much more complicated than it was when Bruce had first suggested kids. But, of course, Bruce was ecstatic (and terrified out of his mind, since he didn't get to raise Damian from a young age).

And here you sit nearly ten months later, holding your small and fragile infant in your arms. Bruce is too scared to hold them; he thinks he'll do something wrong or hurt them, so you get to put them down for naps.

As you finish singing a soft lullaby to the bundle of blankets in your arms, you can't help but smile slightly when you hear Bruce enter the nursery. It's strange seeing the Bat practically tiptoeing to not wake your child as he approaches the rocking chair, kneeling in front of you to press a kiss to the infant's head.

"Go down without a fuss?" He asks in a soft whisper, basking in the rare moment of silence and calm.