“I don’t know,” he stated flatly. “Tim, go upstairs and go to sleep. It’s Saturday, so you can get some sleep in before you start your homework. Lord knows you need it.”

Tim was a bout to protest when he yawned. It would be futile to argue with Bruce about it. Besides, he really was pretty tired....

He walked towards the batcomputer, than stopped. He looked down at the other side of the cavern where Emily-his daughter Emily-was sound asleep. He sat down in the chair by the computer, rubbing his sinuses, trying to concentrate.

“Some coffee sir?” Alfred asked, bringing down a tray.

“Hm?” Bruce looked up. “Oh. Yes, thank you Alfred…..Could I…..Could I ask you a question?”

Alfred smiled. “Of course Master Bruce.”

“What should I do with her?”

Alfred didn’t ask if he was keeping her. Bruce figured he must know that he would. What else could he do with her? Put her up for adoption, he supposed, but he didn’t particularly want to do that, and it would probably force Emily into insanity. To loose her mother and find out her father had rejected her. But, then, he hadn’t rejected her. He was just at a loss at what to do with his new found heir.

“You mean then sir, whether or not you want to tell her who her father is at night?”

It was uncanny how well Alfred could read Bruce’s thoughts. Yes, that too. Bruce nodded.

“I can’t possibly answer that for you sir.”

“Well then what am I supposed to do!”

“Think about how you and Sarah were. If you could change the past, would you tell Sarah? It can’t be too much more different for Emily.”

Alfred took the tray upstairs, leaving Bruce with his thoughts. What should he do? Would he have told Sarah? Would he tell Emily now?

After a life time of secrecy and lies, maybe Emily deserved a little truth.

“Bruce Wayne? My father’s a billionaire? That’s impossible!”

“You’ve heard of him then?” Batman asked her.

“We read the papers; we weren’t completely in the dark. Mom never seemed to want to read anything about him though…I guess that explains a lot...”

Batman turned to Robin for a moment. “Tim, go upstairs for a moment,” he directed. Tim’s eyes got wide for a second, thinking Batman had gone nuts, calling him by his first name, but then nodded, getting the picture.

“Uh….bye Tim?” Emily said somewhat awkwardly, and then turned to Batman. “Is there a problem?”

“No, but this is really important.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about your father.”

“What about him?”

Bruce took a deep sigh, closed his eyes for a moment, and then pulled off his mask.

“I am your father.”

Settling in at Wayne Manor was also difficult for Emily. Bruce had to talk to Commissioner Gordon about Emily coming back from the grave (Bruce did it, not Batman.), and they managed to keep the press under control for a few days after Emily’s arrival. But the story soon blew up like an atomic bomb.

If it was hard for Emily to try adjusting before, it was next to impossible now. She was developing a problem with wanting to seclude herself from everyone, often hiding in her room. Bruce knew this was a problem, but he himself was like that, and there seemed to be little he could do about it.

Barbara had managed to sneak Emily into the mall and buy her knew clothes, and in that few hours, Emily seemed to open up, if only slightly, to someone for the first time.

“I don’t think he likes me.”

It was completely out of the blue. Emily hadn’t said a thing for ages, so, finally, Barbara had stopped prying and let her revel in her silence. She jumped slightly, having almost forgotten Emily was in the car. She looked at her briefly, and Emily’s deep brown eyes met Barbara’s with a questioning look.

“Who?” she asked, now looking straight ahead.

“Bruce.”

Barbara found it slightly funny that Emily didn’t call Bruce father. It was what Emily had always wanted, a father, and yet, each day, it almost seemed she purposely distanced herself from Bruce, and Bruce did nothing to encourage her otherwise.

“Why do you say that?”

“Why didn’t he take me shopping instead of you, no offense.”

“None taken.” Barbara had wondered that herself.

Emily had started to read just about any book she found lying around. She found the paper fascinating, and loved the idea of pencils and paper. She couldn’t spend enough time with books Tim thought to be a total bore. He tried his best to rot her mind, but nothing, not T.V, not junk food, not comics, seemed to interest Emily (except for the news).

And yet, they took to each other like paper and superglue. Tim became Emily’s closest friend, and one of the only people she ever spoke a word to.

“Look,” Tim said one night as he and Emily sat at the kitchen table. “Alfred’s gone grocery shopping, so-hey? What’s the matter with you?” he said, pausing in mid-sentence seeing the heartbroken look on Emily’s face.

“I guess we’re not going to eat today…Stupid me! I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that last apple!"

“Whoa, hey, hold on! If anyone needs that last apple it’s you. You’ve put on a few pounds, sure, but you’re still barley eighty pounds! That’s not healthy! If there’s food, you eat it! Don’t start thinking otherwise! And who said anything about not eating?”

“But you said-“

“It just so happens that I’m a master chief,” he said, sticking out his chest. Emily looked at him skeptically. “Which basically means I ordered a pizza,” he said, pulling the box off the counter. He opened it and began to dig in ravenously, sliding the box over the girl. Emily looked at it rather disgustedly.

“Are you sick or something? It’s pizza! Nobody can just not like pizza! Come on, take a bite! You aren’t scared are you?” Emily stuck her nose in the air, but couldn’t resist a challenge, reluctantly taking a bite.

“Wow! This stuff is good! What is it called?”

“Pizza. Repeat after me: Peat-Sa.”

“I kinda need to talk to you about Emily,” she said.

Bruce immediately looked up from his papers, staring at Barbara.

“What about Emily?”

“...she thinks you don’t care about her Bruce! I can’t say I blame her, you’ve been practically ignoring her!”

“I think you’ve said enough.”

“No, I’m not finished-“

“Look, this is a delicate situation, and I’m handling it as best I can, but unless you know of a better way, I suggest what Emily says between you two, stays between you two.”

Emily quickly skittered down the hall, so Barbara wouldn’t see her as she angrily walked out. Emily didn’t know why, but she felt like crying.

“Maybe he doesn’t care about me after all. Well fine! Then I don’t care about him!” she thought to herself, after secluding herself in her room.

“You work too hard,” he had said. “You need a break.”

“That is my break!”

He had simply shrugged. To each their own.

“Come in,” he called. Reviewing old papers, and trying to concentrate. Seeing Emily outside the door, he decided it best to stop the research for a moment. “Yes? What is it?”

“Um...I know you’re busy, but....it’s, well...I want to help.”