Chapter Text
“So you’re not making dinner because you found a child?”
Clark expected this.
He was sure Lois would be understanding but still lovingly harsh about it.
“Look, hun–”
“And you left our kids alone again?”
“Ah, well, you see–”
There’s a pause.
He can practically hear her staring at him through the phone.
“…Clark. Where are you right now?”
“Gotham.”
Another Pause.
Clark sighs. “It wasn’t... planned.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.”
He looks around the room Bruce has given him for the night.
“He was in bad shape,” Clark says.
“I couldn’t just… leave him.”
Lois makes a noise that’s halfway between a laugh and disbelief.
“So let me get this straight.”
Clark already knows he’s losing.
“You went to Gotham, And you brought home a severely injured unknown child–”
“I did not bring him home!.. I brought him to the Batcave.”
“That’s not better.”
Clark opens his mouth.
Then closes it again.
“…He was so close to dying.”
A beat.
“I know,” Lois says, a little softer now.
Then immediately “But you still left our kids alone again.”
“They’re not alone, Kon’s there.”
“Kon is one of the children, Clark.”
Clark runs a hand down his face.
“I didn’t have time to think about logistics.”
“I know you didn’t,” she says. “That’s the problem."
Silence for a second.
“…I think he’s been through something bad,” he says quietly.
Lois goes quiet.
“Yeah,” she says. “I figured.”
A beat.
“And Clark?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m coming home early.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t,” she cuts in. “I’m still doing it.”
Another, longer pause.
“Just… stay with him.”
Clark nods before he even realizes she can’t see it.
“Yeah.”
“I love you Dear, see you later”
“I love you too, Lois”
Click.
The line goes dead.
Clark stands there for a second, phone still in his hand.
He sighs, putting his phone away and throwing himself down on the bed.
—
As most of the Bats were outside today, it would've been weird for them to be outside during the day, if it wasn't that firefly broke out and decided trying to burn down the mall was a good idea.
So the only ones at home were Alfred, Damian and Tim.
Tim had been forbidden by Bruce to tag along, telling the boy to get some sleep, meaning Alfred had to keep him out of the Batcave for a few hours now until Tim finally fell asleep in his room.
As for Damian, he had been home because on the last patrol he had not only got injured, but gotten injured because he did not listen to B.
Meaning Bruce forbade him to join patrol all week.
Though the boy had been up and ready since he heard that firefly had gotten out, because Bruce would call for back up if he needed, and then the grounding also didn't matter anymore, they all knew that too well.
So Alfred had been in the kitchen, he started to prepare dinner only a short while ago.
But hadn't started to cook yet as the fight with firefly seemed to take longer than they wished, luckily no one yet had gotten hurt enough to need immediate medical attention, but obviously Alfred still kept his own earpiece in, just for the chance they needed Agent A.
While preparing dinner he had been listening to Nimrod by Edward Elgar, but he had turned it off as he heard someone approaching the kitchen, looking up he saw Damian standing there, a surprising peacefulness in his expression for someone who had been very angry at everyone just a few hours ago.
The pre-teen had some paint on his fingers, undoubtedly had he been painting, perhaps still is and is simply looking for a snack and or a drink.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Master Damian?”
Alfred's eyes flicker back to the boy's face, who's looking straight into the older man's eyes.
Damian takes a few seconds to respond, he'd recently started to be coached by Tim (and Dick, when he is not in blüdhaven) on how to sound less like a soldier, so he's trying to choose his words carefully.
“Alfred, I require tea.” Alfred raises a brow, “...Please. “
Tim's still working on it.
“Of course”
Alfred nods, already moving to boil water.
Damian just stands there while waiting.
“Well then, what have you been painting, master Damian?”
At the comment Damian quickly looks down at his hands, as if he'd forgotten there was still paint in them, before looking back at Alfred, straightening up a bit.
“Tt. I have been drawing Bat-Cow. But I must admit, her magnificence is difficult to capture accurately.”
Damian crosses his arms while saying this, looking to his side with a thoughtful expression.
“Ah yes, I bet it is quite hard, master Damian”
Alfred retorts, hardly trying to hide the slight smirk on his lips, making Damian frown.
They didn't need to wait long until the kettle let out a little click. The kettle had barely finished boiling before Alfred had the tea prepared. A few minutes later he poured it into a cup, the motion smooth and practiced, before setting it in front of Damian with the same care another man might devote to presenting a priceless artifact.
After a few minutes Damian had just started to sip his tea, which seemed to still be too hot, causing Damian to stare at the tea with obvious disapproval.
The kettle was still warm on the stove, the faint sound of it clicking as it cooled filling the space between them.
Alfred had only briefly looked at Damian, going back to preparing whatever delicious dish he will cook later.
There was a silence between the child and elderly man, not being awkward, but just as comfortable as it usually is for the two.
Which is why the sudden flicker of the light had caught both of them surprisingly off guard.
Alfred looked up at the lights quickly, with Damian doing the same shortly after.
“Wh-”
Before he could even properly vocalize his thoughts a strong gust of wind suddenly blew through the kitchen.
Which was accompanied with a strong sudden scent of iron.
Damian reflexively closed his eyes to protect them from the wind, once opening them he was met with a scene he was definitely not expecting–which was Superman, covered in the blood of a child he was holding.
Or scratch that. The boy was covered in too much blood to have been his own (besides if the boy long bled out), so the blood on Superman must've been a mix of the two.
For just a moment neither Alfred nor Damian moved.
The scent of blood hit Alfred just a fraction of a second before his mind fully processed what he was even looking at.
After all, a bloodied Superman with a child isn't what you'd usually see in Gotham.
And that feels more like a Bruce thing to do.
The tea cup clicked softly against its saucer as Damian slowly set it down, openly staring at Superman and the boy.
Alfred's eyes immediately had dropped from Superman to the boy in his arms.
The Pale. Unconscious boy.
There was far too much blood. But he could see the boy's chest move, luckily he's still alive, if barely.
Just shortly after Alfred's gaze landed on the child's left side.
For a moment Alfred's expression did not change.
Then it did.
barely enough for anyone to notice.
Because the left arm was gone.
It was not hidden, very obviously not gone from birth, but full on gone.
The wound had been cauterized.
And Alfred was already moving.
"Medical bay. Now."
Superman did not waste another second.
One moment he was standing in the kitchen.
The next second he was not, only leaving another gust of wind behind.
Damian stood so abruptly his chair nearly actually toppled over. It was only just caught by him.
"Is he–"
"Master Damian."
The pre-teen had immediately fallen silent as Alfred spoke.
"Trauma kit."
Damian nodded sharply and rushed off without another word.
Alfred was already heading for the Cave himself.
His hands moved automatically as he walked.
The emergency cabinet beside the entrance opened with a practiced motion.
White gloves off.
Nitrile gloves on.
His earpiece crackled while Alfred rushed down into the cave.
Someone was saying something about Firefly.
Alfred ignored it.
Whoever needed Agent A could wait just a few minutes, they'd understand.
The Cave was only seconds away.
Yet by the time Alfred stepped onto the medical platform Superman had already laid the child down.
Up close the situation looked considerably worse.
Blood soaked through every layer of clothing.
There was sand in the fabric and salt water.
Alfred cut away the clothes to be able to look at the damage underneath them, the scissors gliding through the bloodied clothes with ease, there were bruises, and burns.
And far too many old scars.
Alfred's jaw tightened.
"Where did you find him?"
Superman looked up immediately.
"The coast, just outside Metropolis."
Alfred reached for the boy's neck.
There was a pulse, it was fast, but not strong. But there.
Next his eyes moved to the child's chest.
The boy only took shallow breaths.
Far too shallow.
But he was breathing. That was as much as they could want right now.
"The arm was already gone when I found him," Superman added, almost defensively, as if to say ‘hey! So that wasn't my fault!’.
"I sealed the wound."
Alfred finally looked up.
"You made the correct decision."
The relief on Superman's face was immediate. Which was good, meaning Alfred had one less thing to worry about.
Footsteps echoed through the Cave.
Damian returned carrying enough medical supplies for a small hospital.
Alfred accepted the trauma kit without comment.
"Blood pressure monitor."
Damian immediately handed it over.
"Scanner."
The device was in Alfred's hand before he'd fully finished speaking.
The Boy in front of him couldn't have been much older than Damian.
That thought lingered unpleasantly.
But Alfred forced himself to push it aside.
There would be time for concern later.
For now there was only treatment.
The child was alive.
Alfred intended to keep it that way as long as he humanly can.
Alfred leans over the boy, opening his mouth and tries to listen for the teens breath, he hears breathing, but alongside that is gurgling, as if he's drowning, or choking.
But Alfred is also feeling the hor air on his face from the boy breathing out.
At least that works properly.
Alfred leans back up away from the mouth, opening it wider to see what's blocking the airway, he grabs a small flashlight from the tray beside the bed to see.
The boy's mouth seems to also be full with blood, which seems to be what blocks the airway also.
Alfred quickly shifts the boy's position to lay on his side, hoping for most of the blood to drain on its own.
“I need a suctioning tube. “
He says, knowing one of the two other people in the room will give it to him, he doesn't look up to see which one hands him the tube, just grabbing it and starting to clear the boy's throat and mouth of the blood, which is again, way too much to be his own. If the boy had lost so much blood, how is he alive?
The breathing of the boy improved a lot from just that, but not enough for Alfred to be confident the boy wouldn't start choking again soon.
“He’s not protecting his airway.”
He looked up at the other two people with him, Damian looked angry, but everyone knew he's more stressed than anything, and Superman looked shocked and worried.
“Prepare for intubation.”
And prepare they did, they had him propped up a bit, his neck was tilted back to ensure his trachea was completely free and straight, Alfred put the oxygen mask on the boy for maybe half a minute, giving him 100% oxygen before removing the mask, Damian had already attached the blade to the laryngoscope, so when he gave it to Alfred the man did not have to do anything besides putting the blade in the mouth, displacing the tongue until he could see the boy's vocal cords.
Which seemed to be swollen and red-ish, covered in mucus.
The boy must've been screaming or yelling a lot before Superman had found him.
Alfred starts to infuse the tube through the laryngoscope, making sure to actually go into the trachea and not into the esophagus by accident.
After that he removes the laryngoscope and the stylet from inside the tube, letting the tube in there by itself, holding the tube the entire time as he inflates the balloon that ensures no new fluids can accidentally run down through the trachea.
He finally puts the boy up to the oxygen machine, finally letting go of the tube.
Before doing anything else Alfred make sure that it was set properly and that the boy is actually breathing right, listening to his lungs Alfred no longer hears gurgling and the breathing, while still shallow, appears to be as steady as it can be for now.
Looking at the tube Alfred makes sure it will not shift once he moves on.
The next half hour passes in a blur, Alfred infuses an IV, puts a pulse oximeter on the boy and starts giving the boy blood, also covering him with a heated blanket.
He also checks for broken bones, or internal injuries during this time.
And while he does find many injuries, and luckily no real internal bleeding, there is nothing life threatening.
Also checking the wound of the missing arm, despite the cauterization it is apparent the wound wasn't clean, the arm wasn't cut I off, more like it was crushed or ripped off.
Alfred made sure to wash the sand out of the cauterized wound, patting it dry after and putting on some antibiotic ointment.
He would've preferred if he had been able to let it stay dry for up to two days, but the risk of infection was too high for that.
He put on a bandage over the wound once he was done with everything else.
The last thing he does is check his pupils and signs for a concussion or a brain injury, he most likely has the former, but it was only a mild concussion luckily.
Stepping properly back from the boy who was not connected to several life saving machines, Alfred looked up and around the cave, Damian was standing a few feet from the bed, staring intensely at the boy. While Clark had sat down on a chair near the bat computer, far enough away that a normal human can't see many injuries besides the blood, but they all knew Clark could still see everything, especially as he was still staring at the boy.
“Well, Master Damian, would you get me a wiping cloth and a bucket of lukewarm water? I think we should clean the boy. “
Damian just nods before walking out of the cave, Alfred turns to Clark, who was still staring at the unconscious boy.
Before Alfred could say anything though, his earpiece crackled again.
“Agent A, are you there?! “
“Yes Nightwing, I am here now”
Alfred answers quickly, stepping away from Superman, who had looked up and was looking after Alfred now, who has walked to the bat computer now to see where everyone had been, most still seemed to be at the mall, besides Nightwing and Duke who appear to have been on their way to the manor, but stopped as soon as Alfred had responded.
“Oh my God finally! We'd been trying to contact you for like half an hour! Where were you?! We were starting to get worried!”
You could hear in Dick's voice that, while he was frustrated, probably even angry, but he also sounded worried.
"Regrettably Nightwing, my attention was diverted. Superman dropped by with a patient who had the audacity to be dying in my kitchen.”
Alfred answered, not trying to hide the sarcastic sympathy in his voice.
"Jesus, Alfred, I'm sorry. Everyone's just running on fumes. Firefly was out for two hours now and most of us were already on night patrol. We just contained him before I started driving back since you didn't answer, Is the patient stable? Also, Signal got a nasty burn on his hand, nothing bad, just hurts, that's why we wanted you”
Nightwing rambled on, Alfred sighed
"The patient is stable, Dick, despite Clark's best efforts to track mud across my freshly mopped floor," He replied.
“You can come now with Duke, I will inform the others of my well-being”
It took only 10 minutes for the two vigilantees to appear in the cave, seemingly having rushed all the way on Nightwings motorcycle, appearing right in the middle of Alfred wiping off blood of the boy.
“Alfred, were here!”
Nightwing rushed to say, basically dragging Signal behind him, clutching the not burned hand.
“Signal n–”
Nightwing starts, but stops as he sees the boy laying in the bed where Alfred was standing.
Still absolutely smeared with blood, only the face and chest was somewhay clean by now.
“Ah yes, Signal please sit down, I'll be there in a moment “
Signal, who had been staring at the boy also suddenly snapped his head up, looking at Alfred.
“Uh, y-yeah”
Duke, refusing to question anything anymore with this family, sits down a bed over from the bloodied boy.
“What happened to him? “
Dick asks as Alfred handed him the bloodied rag to continue cleaning the boy as he went over to rule to look at the burn.
“Superman stated to have found him like this at the coast in Metropolis, so we aren't quite sure yet”
Alfred looks at the mild burn, it had some blisters, but nothing serious, he just put some ointment on and bandaged it, causing a hiss of pain from Duke.
“oh God… wheres Cl- Superman? “
Dick questions, having started to clean the boy the water from the bucket already almost as bloody as the boy himself.
“I have told him to rest in one of the guest rooms, I didn't think he should continue to stare at the boy. “
Dick nods at that, looking over to Alfred and Duke.
“You good now dude? “
There's a small smirk on Dick's face, he's properly trying to lift the mood.
Duke smirks back, giving dick one thumb up (the other one hurts to much)
“Yeah man, it barely hurts! “
The Cave had settled into something quieter over the last half hour.
Not actually quiet, that would've been impossible with the machines. There was still the steady beeping of monitors, the low hum of equipment and the occasional sound of movement whenever someone shifted. But compared to the chaos from earlier, it was calm.
Dick was still sitting beside the bed with a cloth in hand, slowly wiping away the dried blood Alfred hadn't gotten to yet. Duke had finally accepted that his hand was fine and was currently occupying himself with his phone. Damian remained standing nearby, pretending he wasn't staring at the unconscious boy, but nobody was fooled.
Then the elevator started moving.
Duke immediately looked up from his phone.
"Oh, thank God."
"Language, Master Duke."
Duke rolled his eyes.
The elevator doors opened only a few seconds later.
Bruce stepped out first.
Still in the suit.
There was soot smeared across one shoulder and a burn mark on one gauntlet. looking tired after dealing with Firefly for most of the afternoon.
Bruce only made it a few steps inside before stopping.
His eyes immediately landed on the occupied medical bed.
Dick noticed and pointed at the unconscious teenager.
"So before you ask–"
"What happened?"
Alfred removed his gloves.
"Superman found him on the Metropolis coast."
Bruce's attention never left the boy.
Up close the injuries looked even worse. The missing arm. The bruising. The scars. There were old injuries mixed with newer ones, some healed poorly, others not healed at all.
Far too many for someone that young.
Bruce's jaw tightened.
Alfred stepped in before Bruce could say anything.
"He is stable,”
He says, with a short pause before
"For now."
Bruce only nodded once.
That answer was enough. Alfred would've said more if there was immediate danger.
Tim (now awake) finally spoke up from the Batcomputer.
Where everyone honestly forgot he was sitting at.
"I already checked who he is,"
Bruce looked over.
Tim gestured vaguely at the several open windows on the screens.
"No identification. No missing persons reports. Nothing."
Bruce frowned.
"Nothing?"
Tim shook his head
“nope” he says, popping the p
"I checked Gotham, Metropolis and national databases. I even checked international records."
Tim leaned back slightly. Staring at the boy currently laying in the bed.
"The kid doesn't exist."
That is what truly got everyone's attention.
Even Duke looked up from his phone.
Bruce just looked back at the unconscious teenager.
The boy was pale, far too thin, missing an arm and appeared on a beach out of nowhere. It reminded him of a boy he once took in, many years ago.
No longer his son, not really, but family nonetheless.
And the boy was apparently non-existing in any system they had access to.
The monitors continued their steady rhythm beside him.
the boy was alive, even if just for now.
But looking at the boy, Bruce got the distinct feeling that whatever answers they were looking for weren't going to be simple ones.