Chapter Text
IT WAS A COLD DARK NIGHT , and Bruce Wayne couldn’t sleep.
The wind howled outside, and the trees swayed and creaked outside, and he shuddered, pulling the blankets tighter around him. At seven years old, he was he was almost grown up, and that he shouldn’t be afraid of the dark anymore, but all he could think about where the story that had been on the news, about a man who could control people’s dreams with a magic ruby, and had been locked up in the Asylum.
“But what if he escapes?” he had asked his father, who had laughed, and said that he was perfectly safe. They were all perfectly safe.
Bruce still couldn’t sleep, afraid of what would happen to his dreams if he shut his eyes.
There was a crash of thunder that seemed to shake the house, and Bruce gave a small yelp, yanking the blanket over his head. As he lay there under the covers, he silently chided himself.
It’s just thunder, he thought. Thunder can’t hurt you. Thunder can’t hurt you. We’re safe. He lifted the blanket off his face, and looked towards the window, where the rain was beating on the large window panes.
But wait, he thought, thinking about the book that he had been reading in school a few weeks ago. Thunder that sounds that loud has to be close, and thunder is always preceded by lightning. But there was no lightning, and I would have seen it.
There was another loud crash, but this one Bruce recognized.
Someone was knocking on the door.
They knocked again, once, twice, three times. He stood up slowly, hands shaking. Carefully, he picked up the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cape, slowly making his way to the window. He pressed his small hands against the cold glass, and looked down, his breath fogging it up. He wiped it away, and saw two figures standing in front of the door, one big, one smaller, but it was too dark to make out their features. The door opened, and the light spilled onto them. Alfred stared at them, wearing his pajamas, and looking bleary eyed.
He seemed to recognize them, and stood back to let them in. Bruce tilted his head, his curiosity winning over his fear, although his heart still beat loudly in his chest.
He turned, racing to the door of his room, listening as the heavy footsteps of his passed, before opening it, and slipping out, blanket still around his shoulders.
He crept out, on his tip toes, dodging the floorboard he knew always creaked, sitting at the top of the stairs, in the shadows, peering down.
It was a man, and behind him stood a young girl, wearing a blindfold.
“Giovanni?” his father said, talking to the tall man.
“Thomas,” the man said. “Thomas, I’m so sorry to intrude, but you were closest person I could trust.”
“John, what’s wrong?”
“A enemy, and a spell, and I must hurry if I am to correct it,” he said. “I am begging you, as an old friend. You have to take my daughter, and keep her safe, please, she is my world.”
“John, are you in some sort of danger?”
“Yes, Thomas,” he said, running a hand over his face. “Please. Take Zatanna.”
“Of course,” his father said. “But John. What’s happening?”
“I cannot say, not here. I must hurry. I will call you soon, and explain everything. Just... Take care of Zatanna for me,” he said. He did not look down when he started talking to her. “Zatanna. Do not take off her blindfold until I am gone, and the door is shut, do you hear me?”
The girl nodded. “But-but dad,” she said, and even from where he was, Bruce could see her shaking. “What’s happening?”
“You’re going to stay with the Waynes for a while,” he said. “I promise, one day, I’ll come back for you, but I must go. Goodbye, darling Zatanna.”
“Dad, wait,” she said, but Giovanni was already leaving, not looking back. She began to cry, reaching for the blindfold. Before she could take it off, Alfred caught her hand. “Daddy! Dada, come back, please! Don’t leave me!”
The door slammed shut, and she tore off the blindfold, bursting into tears, running to the door. “Dada! Don’t leave! Come back! Dad!”
Bruce watched as his father caught her, kneeling next to her.
“Zatanna,” he said, and she looked up at him. “Zatanna, he’s going to be back. He promised. I know your father, he’s a good friend of mine, and he always keeps his promise.”
“I want to go home,” she said, as tears rolled down her ga
His father looked up at Alfred. “Go get Martha, and then see if we can set up a room.”
“Yes, sir,” Alfred said, walking quickly up the stairs. Bruce quickly stood up, running back to his room, and slamming the door. Walking over to the bed, he threw the blanket down, and walked back to the door, and lay down on his stomach, watching as Alfred’s shadow went by. He heard him knocking on his parent’s door, and his mother’s softly spoke.
“Alfred,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll be having a guest,” he said. “And you are need downstairs immediately.”
His mother’s light footsteps passed quickly, and Alfred’s followed slower, pausing in front of Bruce’s room. Too late, he realized that he was opening the door-
And it hit him in the head.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing it.
Alfred looked down, looking mildly concerned.
“Master Bruce?” he said. “Why, for heaven's sake, are you lying on the floor?”
“I’m investigating,” he said. “I heard a noise.”
“And you snuck out of your room, and saw that entire exchange,” Alfred said. “I believe that you are going to have another child in the house. Are you quite alright with that?”
Bruce stood up quickly. “Her name is Zatanna.”
“It is.”
“Is she nice?”
“She seems like it.”
“But she’s sad.”
“Wouldn’t you be in her situation?”
Bruce nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m sure you’ll make her feel at home then. Poor girl is distraught and confused, and we no answers to give her.”
Bruce nodded again. “She scared.”
“Yes, Master Bruce,” he said. “She’s scared.”
Bruce crept quietly through the hall for the second time that night. He could hear his parents talking quietly in their room, and he could hear Alfred downstairs. He had narrowly avoided being caught when he snuck into the kitchen, having to climb up a cabinet, and hide up in the rafters like a bat to avoid detection. But he had his prize, and he was almost there.
He knew which room it was. He had heard his parents lead her to it, and explain to her that he was asleep but that she could meet him in the morning. They had been very kind, using the same voice they used whenever he got hurt. That voice meanhey were worried about her, but were.
He was here to help.
He knocked on the door quietly, glancing at his parents room, and towards the stairs. No one came out.
The door swung open sharply, revealing the girl. She was shorter than him, and younger too. She had dark hair, and big bloodshot blue eyes, which she wiped at with the sleeve of her oversized pajamas. She looked up at him.
“Hi,” he said, holding out the jar he had stolen from the kitchen. “I’m Bruce Wayne. This is my house. I brought you cookies.”
She stared at them, completely silent, making no move to take them from his hand
“You’re Zatanna, and I don’t know your last name,” he continued. “You don’t have to be scared anymore, because you’re safe here, and we’re going to take care of you.”
She took the jar, and opened it, smiling slightly.
“My last name is Zatara,” she said, quietly. “My dad is a magician, and that’s what it says on his shows.”
“Nice to meet you, Zatanna Zatara,” he said. “That’s a cool name. It was a lot of z’s in it.”
She nodded. “I like it,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Bruce Wayne. Thank you for the cookies.”
“Goodnight,” he said, waving as he backed up. “And don’t worry if you hear thunder, it can’t hurt you.”
Thomas Wayne listened carefully to the voice speaking on the phone, nodding solemnly. Martha was watching him from where she sat on the bed, listening to the conversation silently.
“I understand, John,” he said. “She can stay here until you can get this fixed.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Thomas,” Giovanni said. “I hate that I had to do this to you and Martha, and Zatanna... How is she?”
“She confused, and scared,” he said.
“Do not tell her about this,” Giovanni said. “I know Zatanna. She’s like her mother, and she’ll try to solve it. I don’t want her getting into this, into magic. That’s what caused this, and that’s what got her mother killed. Zatanna cannot know about this. It’ll be better if she thinks... If she thinks I left her.”
“Alright, John,” he said. Martha leaned forward. “I trust you.”
“Keep her safe, Thomas. She’s my daughter. She’s my world. I’ll come back for her I soon as I’ve fixed this.”
“We will. We will.”
The phone clicked, and the line went dead. Thomas sighed, putting the phone back on the receiver.
“Martha,” he said running a hand over his face. “How do you feel about this? I didn’t ask.”
“I see no way to avoid it,” she said. “She a child, and we can’t throw her out.”
“I know... Just... Poor John. Having to leave his child like that. For her protection. Not even able to see her.”
“I can’t imagine what he’s going through,” she said, shaking her head, leaning back. “And Zatanna. She may never know why he did this. That poor, poor girl.”
“We’ll take care of her,” he said, sitting down next to her, and grabbing her hand. “She’s one of us now. For better or for worse.”
“Do you think Bruce’ll like her?”
“Of course he will. They’ll be the best of friends by the end of the week, mark my words.”
Martha laughed. “Two kids in the house... This will certainly be interesting.”
“We’ll have to enroll her in school,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “She’s here just in time for her first year of kindergarten. She can go with Bruce.”
“We’ll need to get her supplies, and clothes. We’ll send Alfred to John’s place, to get her things.”
“And maybe,” he said, kissing her cheek. She laughed. “If this all goes well, we can start thinking about having another one.”
“Another child?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Well, Mr. Thomas Wayne. If this goes well. Maybe after Bruce is eight. We’ll see where we are then.”
“I’m sure everything will be worked out by then, Martha,” he said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll all be fine. No, we’ll be better than fine. We’ll be fantastic.”