90210 . young justice one-shots

Bat Family x Reader

"Well, I suppose I should take you to the guest room then."

* * *

I had remained in the guest bedroom for the remainder of the day, unpacking my suitcase and attempting to get comfortable, knowing that I never really be able to call it 'home'. Not that it even felt like home back in London - not ever since my mother had passed.

I was staring at the photo of my mother when there was a slight knock on my door.

"Come in," I called, quickly shoving the picture in the side draws next to the bed.

"Dinner is prepared," Alfred said as he opened the door, greeting me with a smile. "Please come down when you're ready."

I grinned jumping off the bed and walking with him down to the dining room. "Come on, grandpa. There's no need to be so formal, I'm-"

"Wait, since when was Alfred a 'granddad'?"

I stopped in shock when I entered the dining room, staring at another kid who seemed to be around my age. I glanced back at Bruce, then back at the boy.

"Uh, hello," I greeted, sticking my hand out. "I'm (Y/N). And to answer your question, he's been a grandpa ever since I was born."

The boy stared at me with a small glare as if I had offended him (which, to be honest, I probably had), taking my hand and shaking it. "Damian Wayne."

"Nice to meet you, Damian."

Taking my seat, Damian continued to ask questions, even when I had food in my mouth (why do people do that? They know you're eating. So why do they make you have to talk with your mouth full?")

"What bring you to Gotham?" Damian asked, sipping his water.

I glanced over at him. "Family business," I said. "It's been quite a while since I've last seen Alfred."

Damian didn't seem too convinced. "What kind of 'family business'?" 

I pursed my lips, looking back to my plate. "Well, if you're in such dire need to know - my mother passed away two weeks ago." The entire room felt quiet as a weight was placed on my chest. "I believed someone had told Alfred. Unfortunately not."

"Oh," Damian said quietly. "I'm sorry for your loss."

I shook my head. "It's no one's fault. I've done my grieving."

* * *

The week had passed so quickly, I wasn't even sure if I had settled in before I had to leave.

"I called your father," Bruce said when he entered the room, causing me to stop mid-packing. I was about to ask why when he continued. "I suggested that you stay and live with us. Alfred doesn't exactly have any family here in Gotham,  and since you've been here he's been happier with his work. So what I'm asking is that you stay here and continue to live with us. That is if you're willing."

My eyes went from Bruce to the ground, contemplating my answer. I knew that I would never be able to visit my friends or other families back in London, but the longer I had stayed with Alfred, the calmer I had felt after my mother's passing.

I looked back up with a stern nod. "Alright," I said, looking back at my packed bag then back at Bruce. "Guess I'll have to unpack again." 

"I'll notify your father then," Bruce claimed. I felt slightly uncomfortable at how formal the conversation seemed.

"I'll help around the house," I stated quickly before Bruce left, gaining his attention once more. "I mean, I can do what Alfred does, sorta. I mean, I'm not the best at cooking but cleaning is okay."