Work Text:
The Batcomputer had identified exactly zero things about the newest glowing child that had appeared in the Manor.
Which was impressive, considering Bruce had been trying for nearly twenty minutes.
"She's connected to the first one somehow," Tim said.
"I'm aware."
"Could be a portal."
"I'm aware."
"Could be a dimensional anchor."
Bruce slowly looked up.
Tim shrugged.
"Look, after the glowing child who eats lasagna by turning it into light, my standards have shifted."
Across the cave, the newest arrival stood perfectly still.
Unlike Kiddo, who had immediately embraced their role as Gotham's emotional support cryptid, this newcomer was staring.
Specifically, staring at Kiddo.
Kiddo froze.
The newcomer pointed.
A long, accusing finger.
The Batfamily collectively leaned forward.
Then the newcomer performed a gesture.
A sharp movement.
A second sharp movement.
A third.
Kiddo visibly shrank.
Jason frowned.
"What was that?"
Nobody knew.
The newcomer continued.
The gestures became increasingly dramatic.
Kiddo looked like they wanted the floor to open and swallow them.
Tim watched for several seconds.
"...I think Kiddo is getting yelled at."
The newcomer stomped one foot.
Kiddo lowered their head.
Dick nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
"Oh my God, they are getting yelled at."
The newcomer pointed upward.
Pointed at Kiddo.
Pointed upward again.
Then crossed her arms.
Bruce blinked.
Jason blinked.
Damian blinked.
"...She tracked them across dimensions to scold them."
The newcomer nodded firmly.
Everyone stared.
"That is the most sibling thing I have ever witnessed," Dick declared.
Five minutes later.
The newcomer sat on the workbench.
Kiddo sat beside her.
Both had somehow acquired cookies.
Nobody knew how.
Tim suspected Alfred.
Alfred denied involvement.
Nobody believed him.
"So," Dick said, "what do we call this one?"
The newcomer looked up.
Everybody immediately began suggesting names.
"Robin Two."
"No."
"Bird Child."
"No."
"Captain Puffin."
"Absolutely not."
"Googles."
"Goggles," Steph corrected.
"Whatever."
The newcomer looked increasingly confused.
Eventually Jason pointed.
"Violet."
"Why Violet?" Tim asked.
Jason shrugged.
"No idea."
"That's your reason?"
"Worked for Kiddo."
The newcomer tilted her head.
Then nodded.
Apparently accepting this completely arbitrary designation.
"Violet it is."
The next discussion was somehow worse.
"What gender is Violet?" Steph asked.
"Do they even have gender?" Tim asked.
"They appear female," Damian said.
"They appear bird."
"That's not a gender, Jason."
"How do you know?"
Nobody had an answer.
Bruce quietly regretted every life choice that had led him here.
Eventually they settled on she/they pronouns because it seemed closest to Violet's presentation.
Violet accepted this with the same energy one might accept weather.
Tim ended up being her favorite almost immediately.
Nobody was entirely sure why.
Maybe because Tim was the least intimidating.
Maybe because he was curious instead of cautious.
Maybe because he'd been the first person to offer her coffee.
A mistake.
A catastrophic mistake.
Because apparently Violet loved coffee.
And tea.
And cinnamon rolls.
Tim discovered this when he walked into the kitchen at three in the morning.
Violet was sitting on the counter.
The tiny brass kettle attached to her backpack contraption was steaming.
A cinnamon roll the size of her head sat beside her.
She was happily sipping tea.
Alfred was making another batch.
"Alfred."
"Master Timothy."
"Why is she awake?"
"Why are you awake?"
"...Fair."
Violet offered him a cup.
Tim accepted.
Because refusing tea from a magical bird child felt rude.
Later that week, Dick found himself watching a familiar sight.
Jason sat on a rooftop.
Kiddo beside him.
Violet beside Kiddo.
The three formed a strange little cluster against Gotham's skyline.
Kiddo pointed excitedly at something in the distance.
Violet immediately started making what looked suspiciously like corrective gestures.
Another scolding.
Kiddo groaned.
Jason laughed.
Actually laughed.
Violet looked satisfied.
Kiddo looked offended.
And for a brief moment, surrounded by gargoyles and neon lights and impossible children from impossible places, Gotham felt just a little less heavy.
Like somewhere, impossibly far away, two stars had found each other again.
And accidentally adopted the Batfamily in the process.