Bruce looked at Amira, stumped by her wailing.
At first he thought it was because she already missed Talia, but it's been a solid three hours since then and she never cried between that time until now. It wasn't until he had placed her on his bed that she started to become fussy, her small hands waving all over the place.
Perhaps she adored being held?
"Master Bruce - good heavens! What is that- is that a child you have there Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he stepped into Bruce's bedroom with a tray of tea, appalled by the odor in the room.
"Meet Amira...my daughter." Bruce introduced, watching as Alfred set down the tray, slowly approaching the wailing girl.
"Pardon me Master Bruce, but when was the last time you changed the young miss?"
"Changed?" Bruce asked, glancing at Alfred and then at Amira. "As in, clothes?"
"I meant her diaper." Alfred clarified, picking up Amira and bouncing her in his arms, Bruce not liking how easily Amira stopped crying. "I will bathe the young miss while you start heading to the nearest baby store. Here's a list of things I need you to buy."
Alfred quickly took out his notepad and scribbled away, tearing off two sheets worth of writing and handing it to Bruce. "Hurry now. We don't have all evening."
And so Bruce was pushed out of his room, sent on a mission to buy... baby things...
-----
"Do you need help si- Mister Wayne! Oh! I-um...how can I help you?" The store worker asked him, averting her gaze.
What was the richest person in Gotham doing in a department store like the one she worked in?!
Bruce looked at her name tag. Elizabeth. He'll make sure to pay her for his troubles.
"Hi, I'm looking for all of these items, but I've searched throughout this store and can't seem to find them." Bruce said, handing Elizabeth the list Alfred had given him. He watched as the young girl's eyes widened before looking at Bruce and back at the list.
"You can find all of these on our third floor, in the baby department." Elizabeth provided, stifling a laugh when Bruce looked at her confused.
There was a third floor? "Would you like it for someone to-"
"Please." Bruce practically begged, Elizabeth nodding. Bruce watched as she ran to a fellow coworker, gestured at him before running back to him. Bruce noticed the way the other coworker paled when she saw him.
"Well Mister Wayne, my name is Elizabeth and I'll be glad to be of service."
"Thank you so much."
-----
Bruce spent the next three hours being led by Elizabeth around the baby section, only then noticing that he really wasn't up to the task.
When Elizabeth talked about Amira's age, Bruce didn't know what to say. He didn't know how old she was, what she was able to do or even eat. Vaccines? Apparently, babies needed that too.
"I also suggest talking to your daughter frequently." Elizabeth states, picking up another adorable outfit for Amira. You can never go wrong with dresses. "Talking to her would help enhance her speech, especially if she's not babbling. Babbling should be common for her if she's around six months old."
"How do you know so much?" Bruce decided to ask, looking at the cart that was almost filled to the brim with supplies and clothes. There were bottles, sippy cups, plastic bowls, bibs, a few interactive toys, a white crib and a stroller. Oh...and diapers...lots of them.
"Well, I want to become a pediatrician, so I often find myself reading about child development and such during my time off." Elizabeth told him with a soft smile. "And then there's the fact that I practically raised my two younger siblings since they were newborns. I often helped my mother take care of them, absorbing all the new knowledge like a sponge.
While it sounds like she dumped a bit of the responsibility on me, I know my mother meant well. A slice of what it meant to be a mother, to be responsible for another life."
Bruce hummed at her answer, picking up a white pajama on the rack, wondering if Amira would even like it. Does she even know what a bee was? Did she even know what was going on? Did he even know what was going on? What his life was for him now?
"I wonder if I'm up to the task." Bruce muttered to himself, but Elizabeth heard it loud and clear.
"No one is born knowing what they're expected to do and be ready for." Elizabeth said, picking up another outfit. "Sometimes, we just have to go with the flow and see where we land."
Bruce repeated those words mentally, picking up another pajama, a yellow this time, it had a sheep on it.
Go with the flow, huh?
-----
After spending hours in the baby area, Bruce was ready to go home, mentally relaying the notes Elizabeth had given him.
He started laying out the plans he had in mind for Amira's nursery, deciding on using the room next to his. While the only way to enter it was through the main door, he could always make another door that connected the nursery and his room for easier access.
After unloading everything from the car to inside the manor, Bruce decided to bring some fresh clothing to the last place he saw Alfred and Amira, panic setting into him when he heard wailing coming from the room.
Bruce pushed the door open, seeing Alfred with Amira in his arms, the girl reaching for something that wasn't there.
"Welcome back Master Bruce." Alfred wearily said, the two noticing that Amira quickly looked over to Bruce, her small hands no longer searching for him. Her wails became hiccups as she continued to stare at Bruce. "Look, Amira. It's your father. I told you he would be back."
As soon as Alfred said those words, Amira began to cry again, Bruce quickly taking her from Alfred and began to walk her around the room. He then remembered that Elizabeth had told him.
He should talk to her.
"Amira. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Bruce listened as her wails grew softer. "I went to buy some things, but now I'm back."
Bruce listened as Amira softly stopped crying, now tiny hiccups escaping her. "There, there."
"I've seen you're starting to step up to the task, Master Bruce."
"Someone has to look after her. Who better than us, her family?" Bruce asked, then realizing that Amira had yet to be clothed.
Bruce wandered to the bags, quickly taking out the mountain of clothing.
He quickly sets Amira down on the bed so that he can organize the clothing. In doing so, he missed how Amira sat up. He only noticed it when she had crawled to sit in front of him.
She can sit. And crawl.
"If she can sit by herself and is starting to crawl, she may already be six months old."
Bruce watched as Amira took a liking to the two clothing articles in front of her. Or rather, the two pajamas. More specially the white and yellow pajamas that Bruce had picked out - the sheep and the bee respectfully.
He watched in wonder as Amira stared at them, looking between the two for a while before patting the yellow onesie with the sheep on it.
"Sheep it is then." Bruce said, unbuttoning the pajama. How did he forget the onesie that goes underneath?
He quickly clothed Amira, clasping the last button to find Amira looking at him with her wide green eyes.
"You are a natural." Alfred decided to speak up, watching as Bruce picked up Amira with confidence.
"Or perhaps I'm willing to learn." Bruce stated, watching as Amira yawned, watching her start to doze off. "One day at a time."
-----
The two men luckily found out that Amira was seven months old, thanks to the birth certificate and other documents Talia had left in the baby carrier. It made certain legal procedures go more smoothly, while for others, it took some time.
As days went by, Bruce and Alfred started to notice that Amira was smarter than what she let on.
She knew to not place anything in her mouth that wasn't food, something that both Bruce and Alfred appreciated. Bruce quickly found out that she liked to observe items, Amira often gazing at a toy for minutes, listening to a rattle make the faintest sound as she passed it from one chubby hand to the other.
She would recognize the places she was in, lay down when she was in the crib and remain seated while she was on the couch or in a chair. Alfred found out that she adored watching him cook, her eyes following every movement he made as he prepared dinner as she sat in her highchair.
Alfred also found out that she was very fond of strawberries and apples, Alfred melting when Amira would grace him with the largest smile possible when she would realize that Alfred had made her favorite purees.
She would smile and frown but would never make a sound that wasn't a cry. Even when Bruce noticed that she wanted to let out a cry, she never whimpered or sniffled. It was as if she was suppressing those emotions. Luckily, after paying Dr.Leslie Thompkins a visit, Bruce learned that it was just a habit she must have learned while she was with Talia. Thompkins assured Bruce that by talking with Amira more, it would help her unlearn that habit. Surely enough, the doc was right.
Amira soon grunted, babbled and rambled more frequently and at random points in the day. Babbling not only helped her get Bruce's attention, but also made him smile more. Amira soon learned that 'Dada' made him smile even more, especially when he would not be home for longer periods of time. As much as she adored Alfred, no one beats Dada.
Now having a system of communication, Bruce would often coax Amira to come towards him, Amira standing just three steps away from him.
He would watch as she would proudly stand by herself before taking a single wobbly step towards him. Another two steps followed slowly after, Amira bursting into a giggling fit when she reached Bruce.
Those tiny steps soon turned into hops, strides and jumps, Bruce not believing how quickly time had passed.
He watched her grow before his eyes, feeling a smile grow on his face as he kept listening to Amira read to him.
"-ate through one nice green leaf, and after that he felt much better." Amira said, turning the page. "Now he wasn't hungry anymore and- is there something wrong Dad?" Amira asked, Bruce wondering what she meant. "You're crying."
"Am I know?" Bruce asked, raising his hand to his eyes, wiping away what was a tear. Seems like he was. "It's nothing. Probably some dust got into my eye."
"Are you sure you shouldn't be patrolling tonight?" Amira asked, showing Bruce himself in the form of a Batman plushie.
It's been two years since Bruce became Batman, all thanks to a single incident that almost cost him his life. He almost left Amira in the same situation as him when he was ten...
He needed to make Gotham a safer place for his daughter, what better way than striking fear into criminals?
Some people of the general public are glad to have him, despite it being a mere eight percent. Everyone else fears him, except Gotham's villains...and his own daughter. It didn't take long for her to find out he was Batman. Then again, it's not like Bruce was trying to keep it a secret from her.
As for the Batman plushie, it was a gift from Alfred to Amira, something about having Bruce always with her.
Bruce smiled at the plushie, getting up from the bed and tucking Amira in.
"As much as Gotham needs Batman, you also need me to tuck you into bed."
"Dad, I'm seven. I can do it myself."
"Does that mean you don't want me to tuck you in anymore?" He watched as Amira pursed her lips before sinking into the comforter some more.
"I still like being tucked into bed." Amira muttered, gaining a chuckle from Bruce. "Are we still going to the circus tomorrow?" Amira asked, springing up, watching her father's face for some type of confirmation.
"Amira," Bruce said with a frown, tucking one of her hair strands behind her ear. "Remember what we talked about?"
Amira hung her head, looking at Batman in her hands. It was times like this that Amira wished they never lived in Gotham, that her father wasn't a billionaire...
"If it's a place where the public knows you or a place that I can easily be spotted, I can't go." Amira recited, letting a frown replace her smile. She threw herself back onto her bed, throwing her comforter over her head.
Bruce let out a heavy huff.
"Goodnight." He whispered, deciding to let her be. As soon as he stepped out of her room, Bruce faced Alfred.
"Is Miss Amira asleep already?" Alfred asked, motioning to the tray with a cup of milk. "She usually drinks a glass before going to sleep."
"She's awake, but I wonder if she would even talk." When he saw Alfred lift a brow, Bruce decided to continue. "I told her she couldn't join me to go watch the Haly's Circus tomorrow. The press already knows I'm going, I can't let them know about Amira just yet."
"With all due respect Master Bruce," Alfred began, opening the door to walk in. "The longer you keep hiding her from the public, the harder it will be to keep it that way. You can't keep sheltering her away from a world she deserves to see. To be in."
Bruce was left with those words in his mind, wondering what he should do.
Ever since he was assaulted, he vowed to protect Amira, even if it meant that she could not step foot outside the manor.
When she turned three, Bruce made sure to homeschool her, teaching her the basics of English, which included reading and writing. Once she was five, he taught her the basics in math and science. As a side subject, Bruce was starting to teach her French, hoping to teach her Mandarin when she grows older.
But now that Alfred was stating that Bruce should allow Amira to go out, Bruce wondered if he had been approaching this situation wrong this entire time.
But what if villains found out about her being his daughter? Of being a Way-
Bruce stood there in his thoughts for a while before an idea wouldn't leave his head. Why didn't he think about this sooner?
-----
Amira let out a gasp as she entered the circus tent, gaping at how large it was, taken aback at how many people there were inside the tent.
There was even a second level inside the tent!
"Is it usually this crowded?" Amira asked the man next to her. Or rather, Tom Dupain - her 'father.'
"I heard it's like this because of Mr.Wayne visiting the circus today, but it usually is this crowded during Sunday shows." Tom provided, watching as Amira continued to look around, a smile escaping him.
He always wondered what it felt like to have a child, wondering if he was even up to the task.
When Bruce Wayne had reached out to him to look after his daughter, Tom Dupain accepted the honor. After all, it was thanks to Bruce that his tiny bakery in Gotham was taking off, Tom's dream of being a well known bakery taking form. All it took was one gala and Tom's pastries for his dream to take off, Tom knowing he owed Bruce a huge favor.
He had met the young Wayne at that very gala, the girl having snuck into the kitchen to get a taste of one of his pastries. Amira Wayne - Tom only knew her as Amira and the granddaughter of Mr.Alfred Pennyworth. Tom didn't think Amira was Bruce's daughter as there was no news about the young Wayne.
While Tom had only known her for a few moments before Alfred shooed her away, Tom had grown a soft spot for the child.
"Mr.Dupain-"
"Tom is fine."
"Mr.Tom," Amira corrected herself. "Thank you for letting me be here today." Amira said, holding Tom's hand with both of hers.
Just as Tom was about to respond, the ringmaster chose that moment to begin the show.
Amira watched as the ringmaster welcomed the people and shouted out her father, seeing him across the tent, smiling when they saw each other.
The ringmaster then introduced the Flying Graysons, Amira's eyes widening at how high up the family was. She wondered if her own father would allow her to be that high up.
With the cheering of the crowd, Amira watched with wonder as the Grayson's started their performance, starting with a somersault. She watched as the man caught his wife with ease, the woman sending a salute before going onto the platform. Amira watched with absolutely glee as she watched the son do two somersaults in the air before returning back to the platform.
Amira listened as the ringmaster announced the Grayson's famous trick. Amira stood at the edge of her seat, feeling her heart thump loudly against her chest. She watched as the woman spun once, twice...thrice! But as soon as she was caught by her husband, the string of the bar snapped, Amira feeling her heart come to a stop.
She watched as the two fell and just as they were two were mere feet away from touching the ground, her eyes were covered.
Amira would never forget the screams she heard as she was ushered out of the tent. She heard Tom whisper to her that everything was going to be okay in rushed French.
That everything was fine.
That was the first and last time she was allowed to step out of the manor for a very long time.