Chapter Text
The sound of early morning laughter echoed through the halls of The Team’s House as the children occupied themselves outside. Gar and Cassie, two of their youngest and most energetic of the crew, competed in an impromptu obstacle course outside, hopping over overturned barrels and leaf piles while darting back and forth until they reached the front door. Artemis stood at the kitchen counter listening to the commotion and smiled, watching through the window. Her hand paused mid-chop of the vegetables she was prepping for lunch.
Outside, Connor sat at their picnic table, helping Virgil with a new gadget he’d built, the young teen gesturing excitedly as he listened. Jaime sat next to them, his laptop open, typing away aggressively, most likely working on the A.I. program his old teacher left him. Violet and Eduardo were chatting under their maple tree next to the bench while Victor observed, leaning back in his chair, prosthetic leg crossed over the other. And then there was Terra, lingering near the edge of the yard, arms crossed, expression closed off as always. She’d been with them for a few months now, but she hadn’t fully settled. Her distrust of the world remainded intact despite their best efforts.
Needless to say, the house was hardly ever quiet and today was no different. Since the house had been nonstop all morning, all eight children had been moved to play outside while the rest of them could get the house cleaned and ready for the arrival of their newest foster kid.
“I hope we’re ready for this,” Wally, walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, his fingers drumming lightly as his own nervous energy made itself known. “We’ve never dealt with anything like what he’s been through.”
Artemis nodded. They had been prepped beforehand over the phone by a caseworker just the day prior. Usually, the process was longer to figure out if they were suitable to take on another child with the amount they already were taking care of, but Bart Allen had been a special case. He’d only just been taken out of a bad situation, and with the end of the year approaching quickly, most places weren’t suited to take him so soon. “I know. That’s why we have to be extra careful today. He’s not like the others; his trauma is... more recent. More raw.”
When they had first opened their house to troubled teens, they hadn’t expected to be put on a high-standard list. M'gann had been the one to start it all as she cared for Gar after an accident left him an orphan. She’d eventually dragged Connor into the mix, who brought Dick and Zatanna on board until Artemis and Wally had no choice but to come out of retirement as well. Not that they complained, not at all. It felt good to mentor and help, just like their mentors had helped them when they were in the system too. It was mostly Dick’s connections in the police force that brought the children to their doorsteps. Runaway teens, children who had experienced the worst and survived. Their most recent arrival had been Terra, who they’d only come to know for about six months. She was technically an orphan, but due to classified circumstances, she was to be kept safe with them while her brother worked to make a safe environment for her in another country. Being royalty, getting kidnapped sounded like a scary story at best, but unfortunately, it had really been Terra’s situation, and after being rescued, her brother refused to see her back in Markovia until he knew it’d be safe for her. So she waited. She stayed tough and waited for her brother to get her and bring her home. Her addition had been the sealing deal that marked their house as “special.”
“I know the feeling,” M’gann said softly from where she was setting the table. Even though she and Connor were the founders, they had taken on a quieter role in the house, guiding the children and providing a steady hand when the others were overwhelmed. With seven of them, including Kaldur, who was often away on business but offered a helping hand whenever he could, and eight becoming nine children, the house would be fuller than they’d ever seen it. “We’ll do what we can to make him feel safe.”
It was a good thing they still had a few spare bedrooms in their old house. The children liked to call the place the Watchtower because the attic had been converted into a pseudo observatory with a skylight and everything. The house itself had been a gift from Dick’s adoptive father, who was more loaded than he knew what to do with. By their 3rd kid, it was definitely appreciated, and the suburban neighborhood was the perfect environment to give normalcy to a bunch of traumatized teens. Safe and sturdy with a large yard, if there was more to provide, they didn’t know what it could be.
Dick appeared at the doorway, interrupting Artemis’s thoughts. “They’re on their way,” he announced, phone in hand. “Are we whelmed?”
There was a mix of whelms and overwhelms, but that was to be expected. The new room was made up, food ready, and amenities stocked. The kids had each been given a talk about approaching etiquette and being gentle with Bart when he arrived. They were ready.
And not an hour later, the van pulled up outside, and the house fell silent. The kids retreated from the outside to the inside as soon as they saw the white van pulling up the road. Artemis, Wally, and Dick stood at the entrance while the others gathered further back in the house, giving them space but unable to hide their curiosity. They couldn’t convince them to wait anywhere else; the little spies had their ears pressed on the walls and doors to listen, making M'gann and Connor quietly scold them.
The social worker stepped out of the van first, followed by a small figure dressed in clothes that were a bit too baggy and long for his arms and legs. Bart Allen’s face was pale, his thick auburn hair shaggy and sticking out in every direction possible. His wide eyes scanned the house and the people, an almost perfectly blank expression on his face. If it weren’t for the spark of fear in his eyes and his fingers trembling, you’d think he was completely checked out. He carried nothing but a small plastic bag, the contents barely bringing the bag to its fullest size.
It was clear Bart was hesitant when the social worker had to nudge him twice to get him to move away from the van and follow her. He kept his eyes glued to his feet as he trailed behind her until they reached the stairs. Then the social worker moved, and suddenly, Bart had no one to hide behind.
“Hi, Bart,” Artemis said softly, kneeling down so she was at eye level with him. “I’m Artemis. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Bart didn’t respond, his hands gripping the plastic bag tightly. His eyes darted between her and the others like a cornered animal. She kept her tone gentle and non-threatening as she continued. “This is Wally, and that’s Dick. Inside, there are more people waiting to meet you, but we won’t rush anything.”
He didn’t speak. His shoulders were tense as if bracing for something. A part of her wanted to reach out and offer him some kind of comfort, but Artemis knew better. After eight kids, most of them with their own unique traumas, it was clear it was never a good idea to go in without matching their vibe.
While Bart didn’t voice anything at the introductions, he did raise his head to glance at them one by one. Wally nodded at him as he moved to open the door, “we’ve got lunch ready if you want to grab a bite to eat. Simple stuff but filling enough.”
Something flickered in Bart’s eyes at the mention of food, but he stayed silent, clutching his bag closer, and didn’t move.
“Come on inside, whenever you’re ready,” Dick said gently. “We’ll give you all the time you need.”
Once inside, the introductions were slow and deliberate. They’d agreed beforehand that the children would take turns approaching Bart so as not to overwhelm him. Gar was the first to skip out into the main room, barrelling straight for Bart while presenting a small box in his hand.
“Hey, I heard you might like animals?” Gar said, offering a small smile. “I’m an animal guy. This is for you.” He opened the box to reveal a tiny, green gecko, its bright eyes blinking curiously at Bart.
For a moment, Bart’s tension eased, and his eyes softened as he reached out slowly to the gecko. His touch was gentle as if handling something precious. Gar’s heart lifted slightly, recognizing the spark of connection going off. M'gann had to give it to him; Gar knew how to make friends quickly.
“His name’s Gummi,” Gar said. “But you can rename him if you want.”
Bart didn’t respond, but he nodded, cradling the small creature in his hands. That was enough for Gar, who beamed before stepping back into M'gann’s arm, who herded him away further into the house.
Next was Jaime, who approached cautiously, not wanting to scare him. “Hey, Bart,” he said, his voice quiet, which Bart appreciated greatly. “I’m Jaime. If you ever want to mess around with tech or go skateboarding, I’m always down.”
Bart glanced at him, his eyes lingering on the laptop Jaime carried, but he remained silent. He didn’t know much about skateboarding and had never had a laptop of his own, but Jaime seemed willing to share with a stranger, so Bart found himself giving a small smile and nodding. Jaime gave him a friendly nod back before retreating, not pushing any further.
The pattern continued with each child, each offering something small—a gadget from Virgil, which was a watch and flashlight in one, a book from Cassie about superheroes, a handmade bracelet from Violet, and Eduardo gave him a scarf. Even Terra and Victor, the most antisocial of their bunch, though reluctant, gave a short introduction. Bart never said a word, but it was clear he was listening. It was already going better than they thought.
As the living room group continued their lined-up introductions, the adults gathered in the kitchen with Bart’s caseworker, Marla. She sat at the kitchen island with a thick folder in front of her while her expression kept switching from grave to tired.
Wally leaned against the counter with his arms crossed while Artemis, Dick, and M’gann also sat at the island. Connor stood in the doorway, his brows furrowed in concern as he kept an eye out towards the living room and the children. They all sat silently, waiting for Marla to start.
“So, as you probably already gathered,” Marla began, “Bart’s situation is... complicated. He was rescued a few weeks ago from a labor camp in an undisclosed country. The exact location is classified, but it’s a place where certain illegal operations still run unchecked.”
Marla opened the file and began reading. “His parents... well, his father is confirmed dead. His mother is listed as missing. She was last seen during an attempted escape with Bart, but there’s no solid information on whether she’s alive. Bart hasn’t spoken much about her, not that he’s been speaking much. We believe he’s not entirely aware of her status.”
M’gann’s hand tightened around her tea mug as she and the others absorbed the pale folder government summary of the boy who sat in the next room, completely unaware of the details being discussed about him. They weren’t unfamiliar with the worst sounding situations. Half of their kids were special cases, and they themselves had dealt with their own trauma from their childhood, but hearing a new story was never easy.
“Has he been given any psychological support yet?” Dick asked.
Marla nodded. “He’s been assigned a trauma counselor, but it’s early days. Bart’s mental state is... fragile. He’s experiencing a high level of anxiety and is mostly nonverbal. Based on his reactions, he’s probably suffering from PTSD. He’s especially skittish around sudden movements and loud noises. But according to Dinah he’s showing signs of being highly energetic. Just subdued for now given what he’s gone through recently.”
“That explains why he didn’t say a word,” Artemis said softly, her eyes drifting toward the living room.
Marla gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’s likely that it’ll take time before he feels safe enough to speak or trust anyone here. What’s particularly interesting is that English is his second language. He learned it in the camp, probably out of necessity. His first language is called Interlac, which is barely spoken anywhere else.”
“What’s that?” Wally asked, puzzled.
“It’s a hybrid language. From what we’ve gathered, it was spoken by a small community in the camp where Bart grew up. It’s almost forgotten, used only in isolated areas. He understands English fluently, but he struggles with expressing himself. So... it’ll be a challenge.” Marla took a deep breath before continuing. “On the academic side, despite everything he’s been through, Bart is... incredibly bright. He excels in mathematics. In fact, his scores are off the charts for someone his age. But other subjects are lacking due to his limited schooling. He was forced to work rather than study most of his life, so his education is patchy at best.”
Dick frowned. “What does he need from us right now? Other than emotional support?”
“Well, first off, he’s going to need new clothes, personal items—everything, really. He came with almost nothing. And he’ll need to be enrolled in school as soon as possible. I know it’s a lot to take on, but he needs some sense of normalcy.”
M’gann nodded. “We’ll handle it. Whatever he needs.”
Marla gave a small smile of gratitude. “I know you will. You’ve been amazing with the other children. Bart deserves the same chance.”
“Is there anything else we should know about?” Connor asked. He had been quietly listening the whole time, but M'gann could see the harsh grip he was keeping on his crossed arms.
Marla hesitated, looking through her notes before speaking softly. “He’s also incredibly resourceful. He had to be to survive. But... sometimes resourcefulness in children like Bart can manifest in ways that might worry you. He may sneak around, hide food, or have difficulty with trust. That’s all part of the process, as you know.” And boy, did they know indeed.
Wally exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll make sure he feels safe. That’s the most important thing.”
Marla closed the file, her expression softening. “I know it’s a lot, but Bart is a fighter. He’s survived more than most adults could handle. He was given a chance to escape and now it’s time to give him a chance to heal.”
When it came time for Marla to leave, she pulled Bart aside to speak to him privately before she took her leave and Bart was left in the corner, looking so hopelessly lost. Artemis was about to go save the poor boy when Eduardo beat her to it, talking softly before Bart let him take his hand and gently guide him to the couch. The other children were slowly coming out of their hiding places to hang out, and soon enough, they were going in and out, watching T.V., playing games on their computers, and eating snacks, just like any other day.
Although Bart didn’t speak, the mood was lighter. He sat on the couch with Gummi perched proudly in his hands as he watched them do their own things and assimilate himself quietly. Artemis and Wally sat nearby, watching him out of the corner of their eyes.
“It’s a start,” Wally whispered. “We’ll get there.”
Artemis nodded and leaned against Wally’s chest. Soon enough, M’gann suggested ordering dinner. Wally immediately voted for pizza, which was quickly agreed upon since it meant all of them could get their own order.
Bart remained on the couch, still clutching Gummi as if he were unsure he could put it down, watching silently as the others moved about. His eyes flicked between them warily, but there was a hint of something else too. If Wally had to describe it, it seemed like hesitant curiosity. Like the kid was trying to remain mysterious and introverted but the surprise of their family was tearing him out of it. Wally supposed that was the good part of kids’ energy; even though it sometimes grated on the rest of the adults, they had a good habit of drawing others in without even realizing it.
When the pizzas finally arrived, the entire group reacted by default, crowding M'gann as she tried to juggle eight boxes of pizza to the kitchen, where everyone eventually settled around the dining table with their plates. Bart was the only one who hesitated, lingering near the edges, unsure of where to sit as he pocketed Gummi in his shirt pocket.
It was Gar who finally waved him over with an easy grin. “Come on, Bart, grab a slice! You’ve gotta try the veggie—it’s the best,”
Bart approached the table slowly and took a seat while Wally, Artemis, Dick, M'gann & Connor tried not to make it obvious they were watching. Easier said than done when Bart took his time to decide which kind of pizza he was going to take. When Bart finally picked up his first slice of the most popular box, a BBQ Hawaiian with jalapenos, the rest of them dug in, distracting themselves with conversation. But Artemis noticed the way Bart’s eyes lit up when he took that first bite. She hated to think this was the kid’s first pizza, especially when they had gotten it from the cheapest fast food joint near them, but with the way Bart was inhaling his first piece, it seemed he had no qualms with the taste.
Within minutes, he had devoured three slices and was eyeing the others, clearly still hungry yet unsure if he could keep going. No one said a word, letting him take the initiative. They all knew he was likely used to rationing food, not knowing when his next meal would come, so letting him see that they had plenty to go around was a good step. They should’ve known he’d also have a martyr complex like the others in their group. For a moment, he seemed to shrink under the decision and give up altogether until Wally, who was sat next to him, gave him a gentle nudge in the arm. “Eat as much as you want, Bart. There’s plenty.”
Bart looked up at him, his eyes wide for a moment before nodding quickly. He grabbed another slice and then another after that. His appetite seemed boundless, almost rivaling Wally’s. If anything, they were glad to see him eat. After his seventh slice, he slowly started to relax in his seat. His shoulders weren’t as tense, and as the evening wore on, a small semblance of peace settled over his expression.
As the night was settling in, the house quieted after dinner. Since it was a school night, most of the kids had a curfew to follow, even though they begged to stay up for Bart’s sake, they were all herded out. Although to most it looked more like Connor chasing everyone around until they successfully retreated to their rooms to avoid him. Finally, it was Bart’s turn to be shown his own space. Dick led him up the stairs and to the closest door on the right.
“Here we are,” Dick said, gently opening the door into a small room, “it’s not much to look at right now, but we’ll take you shopping tomorrow. Get you whatever you need to make it yours.”
Bart stepped in after him, his eyes scanning the space. The room was plain but cozy, with soft blankets neatly arranged on the bed, a small desk tucked into the corner, and an empty closet on the opposite wall. The little gifts the other kids had given him were already placed carefully on the desk—Gar’s box for Gummi, as the note taped onto it said, Virgil’s small tech device, the bracelet from Violet, and Eduardo’s scarf.
“We’ll get you new clothes and other stuff tomorrow,” Dick said, watching Bart’s quiet exploration. “For now, you’ve got the basics though. The blankets and pillows are new. You’ve got your own space, but the bathroom is shared between all the kids. It’s just down the hall. If you ever need anything during the night, don’t hesitate to ask, our rooms are downstairs and labeled.”
Bart nodded slightly, his grip tightening around the small bag he carried as he put it on the desk next to his gifts. It held only a toothbrush, toothpaste, what looked like a doll’s comb, a set of thin pajamas, and a few other items that barely counted as possessions.
“You seem all set for tonight, though,” Dick added. “Your toothbrush and paste are here, but that comb they gave you doesn’t really work with your hair does it? Looks like it could barely comb through Wally’s buzzcut.”
Bart shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smile as he picked it up and tried to brush his hair, only for the base to immediately break off, leaving half stuck on his head.
“So we’ll get you a proper one tomorrow,” Dick took the tattered remains of the brush and the plastic bag from him to throw away.
“Thanks I guess.”
If Dick weren’t who he was, hearing Bart’s voice for the first time would’ve made him jump. Instead, he just watched as Bart continued to explore the room until he sat on the bed, the tall slats making him awkwardly try to balance on it.
Dick crouched down to meet his eye level, speaking softly. “Alright, I know the first night in a new place can be tough. You don’t have to do this all on your own, okay? If you need anything, I’ll be up late tonight. Zatanna, one of the others who lives here, will be back soon. She works as a magician and just finished a show, so she’ll be up too.”
Bart nodded but didn’t say anything else. It seemed pretty obvious he had no intention of moving until Dick left as he stayed still watching him. Whether it was because he was putting sleep off or because he just had no idea what to do with Dick standing there, it was clear the night was over.
“Goodnight, Bart,” Dick said gently, leaving the door cracked open just in case.
Later that night, the house was silent as Zatanna returned, slipping into the living room where Dick waited, a cup of coffee in hand.
“How’s our newest guest?” she asked as she set down her hat. There was lingering confetti falling onto the floor as she shook out her coat, that Dick knew he was going to be picking up before Connor complained about stepping on it.
Dick leaned back in his chair, “he’s doing alright, I think. Quiet, but that’s expected. We got him settled in his room. Didn’t ask for anything, though.”
Zatanna nodded, “first night’s always the hardest.”
Dick agreed, though his instincts told him to check on Bart before heading to bed. “I’ll give him a little while longer, just in case. Coffee?”
The clock ticked on as they sat and talked quietly with their mugs, and when the clock eventually hit its highest point with no sign of any kid, both Zatanna and Dick decided to do one last round through the house before heading to their rooms for the night. Dick stopped by Bart’s door, which was now shut, knocking lightly. When there was no answer, he cracked it open to peek inside. At first glance, it seemed Bart hadn’t touched the bed at all. The blankets were still neatly arranged, pillows fluffed. The boy was nowhere to be seen.
Dick didn’t hesitate, pushing the door open wider and scanning the room until his eyes fell on the floor, where the blankets and sheets seemed rucked up. There, curled up with just a single blanket and a pillow, lay Bart, asleep under the bed. It seemed he had made a small nest beneath the bed frame, the blanket pulled tightly around him. Gummi was safe in its box that was placed near Bart’s head.
Dick’s heart sank as he slowly settled the sheet back into its place, hiding Bart from view, and walked silently to the door. Seeking the smallest and most confined space was a smart move if the kid were actually still in a survival situation. Zatanna joined him at the doorway, her expression softening as she took in the sight. “Poor kid,” she whispered. “He must be so used to sleeping in places like that… Where no one can see him.”
Dick nodded, “the road of trust was always a long one. We stay whelmed and eventually he’ll learn it’s safe here.”
Zatanna patted his back before retreating to her own room with a quiet “goodnight.” It was late, but when morning came, they could handle what came from this together. As awkward as they seemed and potentially, with great hesitation to admit, overbearing, they were family with all the highs, lows, and middle ground.