"Nothing you accomplish matters anyway
So all that really counts is how you live today"

1998

"Who are you?"

Rosalind looked up from the book she was reading. There was a boy standing in the doorway. He looked her age, maybe a year older.

"I'm waiting for my dad." She replied, kicking her feet. They didn't reach the floor while she sat on the large chair.

"Why are you waiting for your dad in my house?" The boy asked.

"Because he works here." She replied.

The boy tilted his head in confusion. She copied his movements, red curls falling into her eyes. He frowned and straightened up.

"Alfred doesn't have kids." He said.

"Yeah he does," Rosalind replied. "Me."

"Well he never told me that."

"Well maybe he did and you just weren't listening."

The two kids stared at each other for a moment. Rosalind smiled at him, proud of her own joke. She knew that her father worked for a rich family, the Waynes. She knew they had a kid her age. But she couldn't remember his name for the life of her. Granted, she had only been in America for about a week. Of course she didn't know everything. Rosalind hated that. Like most eight year olds, she liked to know everything all the time.

"What's your name?" She asked him.

"Bruce." He replied. "What's yours?"

"Rosalind." She said.

"Rosy-linde?" His face scrunched up.

"Rosalind." She repeated.

"Rose-e-lin." He said.

It was Roslaind's turn to scrunch up her face. Bruce laughed at her.

"You have a weird name," He said.

"You have a weird face!" She exclaimed.

"What are you reading?" He asked, walking over to lean over her chair and peek at her book. She showed him the cover.

"Nancy Drew," She said proudly. "I like mysteries. And she's really cool and smart. I've read almost all of the books with her in it. Do you like to read?"

"Not really," Bruce shrugged.

"You should," Rosalind shook her head in disappointment and sighed dramatically.

"I've just never read anything interesting," he shrugged. "Maybe if you wrote something interesting I'd read it."

"Oh she will, I don't doubt it."

Her father was in the doorway. Rosalind grinned and slid off the chair, running over to give him a hug.

"Hello Rosie-Posie," He kissed the top of her head. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Rosie-Posie," Bruce snickered. Rosalind sent him a glare and her father laughed.

"I've been meaning to introduce the two of you," He said. "Glad you beat me to it. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Rosalind walked back over to the chair and grabbed her book. "Bye."

"Bye Rosie- Posie."

"Dad, I don't like him."

2001

"I'm sorry."

Rosalind did not like funerals. Before this, she had only ever been to one. And she had never wanted to have to go to another. But she didn't have much of a choice.

Bruce was looking down at the ground. He wasn't crying anymore. Rosalind had seen him do nothing but cry for the last few days. She didn't blame him. She had done the same thing when her mother died. If anything, Bruce had a reason to cry for twice the time she did.

It had been three years since they met. Rosalind was eleven now and probably knew everything about everything. She especially knew everything about her best friend.

They had been inseparable the last three years. Bruce had comforted her about her mother (in the best, yet extremely awkward way he could.) so Rosalind knew it was her turn. She knew exactly what to do.

She sat with him.

She didn't say a word and neither did he. But she saw his shoulders relax as she settled herself next to him. Silence enveloped them. It was peaceful, tranquil. It was what they both needed. Bruce slowly raised his head and looked at her.

"Thanks Rosie."

2005

"I hate this."

Bruce was sitting on her bed in a suit with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You hate your birthday?" She looked at him in the mirror as she sat at her vanity doing her hair."But it's your sweet sixteen."

"God, don't call it that." He groaned.

"Your super sweet sixteen big birthday bash!" She pumped her fist.

"I don't want to go to this stupid party." He grumbled.

Bruce got up and began to look around her room. He bent over and looked at her bookshelf, reaching out to pull out a notebook. He flipped through it, dramatically sighing. Rosalind spun around in her chair to face him. She studied him as she continued to put clips in her hair, squinting her eyes at him. He squinted back at her.

"What?" he asked.

"First of all, don't touch my stuff." She said, gesturing to the notebook he was holding.

"Why do you have so many of these?" He gestured the notebook back at her.

"I need them for my writing," She replied. "Stop changing the subject and put it back. And you have to go to the party. It's your party."

"So?" he shrugged, still reading through the notebook.

"So I wanna go to the party," Rosalind continued. "I didn't spend all this time making myself look nice to not go to a party."

"You look nice?" He raised an eyebrow at her. She threw her hairbrush at him. He dodged it with a laugh. "I'm kidding, you do look nice. Green is your color."

"You can't not go to your own party," She said, turning back to the mirror. "At least go for a bit. Say hello to people, eat some hors d'oeuvres, then sneak out after like an hour."

"We could sneak out," he agreed, closing the notebook with a snap.

"We?" She repeated. "No, you can sneak out. I'm staying. I happen to love parties."

"Then I'll sneak out and spend my birthday alone then," He shrugged.

"Bruce," Rosalind turned around in her chair to look at him again. "Don't spend your birthday alone. It's your birthday. And not just any birthday. Your sweet sixteen."

"Please stop calling it that."

"Your super sweet sixteen big birthday bash." She continued. "It's supposed to be fun. So go to the party, hang out with me. It'll be fun, I promise."

Bruce was quiet for a moment. Rosalind gave him a pleading look, puppy dog eyes were her secret weapon. He stared at her, trying to fight against it. But then he sighed and held out his hand to her.

"You're a crappy date, Rosie." he said. "But fine. I'll go. For like three hours. But then we are sneaking out to have a proper party. Pizza and a movie."

"You drive a hard bargain," she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

2008

"Don't go."

It was almost three in the morning. Rosalind had been woken up by a loud pounding on her door only to find Bruce standing there.

Rosalind's bags were packed. She was leaving for college tomorrow. The school was in Maine, several hours away. She had gotten into an extremely competitive creative writing program and got a great scholarship. It was her dream school, one she had been thinking about for years. Her father was thrilled for her and Bruce had been nothing but supportive.

She hadn't seen him in a few days. In fact, ever since she had gotten into the school and accepted her enrollment, she had seen him less and less. She had thought he might of been avoiding her. Yet here he was, at her door in the middle of the night.

"What?" She wiped a hand over her face, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Don't go." He repeated. "Rosie, you have so much potential, don't just- just throw it all away where you're not appreciated."

She stared at him, dumbfounded. He pushed his way into her room and began to pace.

"Bruce what the hell are you-"

"You don't need college at all." He said. "You have so much talent, you don't need to go. You can start your career right now. Because you're good, Rosie. You're my best friend. You're so good at what you do. I know you're gonna do great things but you can do them here, in Gotham."

"You're acting like I'm never gonna come back." Rosalind held her hands out to stop him as she tried to wrap her head around all this. "I'll be back for Thanksgiving and Christmas and stuff. You can come visit me. It's not like you're never gonna see me again. I would never let that happen-"

She was cut off by Bruce suddenly rushing forward and wrapping his arms around her. He hugged her tightly, engulfing her in his arms.

He was always taller than her but she only just then realized how big he was compared to her. She hugged him back immediately, burying her face into his chest.

"I'm sorry I haven't seen you," he murmured into her hair. "I was... mad. But I couldn't let you leave without seeing you."

"I know you don't like when people leave," She said softly. "But I want you to know that I'll come back."

Bruce leaned back slightly to look down at her. His jaw clenched and his eyes were red around the edges. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek. He absentmindedly leaned into her touch.

"I'll always come back."

2018

"What the FUCK?!"

Rosalind dropped the stack of papers she was holding out of shock. Her mouth hung open as she stared at the scene before her.

"Hey, language!" Her father scolded as he began to pick up the papers she had dropped.

"What the actual fuck." She repeated, ignoring her father.

Bruce stood in front of her. Well, not exactly Bruce. SOMEONE was staring her down through the eyes of a menacing cowl and dark armored suit. He looked surprised to see her.

"You're the fucking Batman?" She exclaimed.

"This wasn't how I wanted you to find out." He said. "I honestly didn't want you to find out at all."

"This-" Rosalind ran a hand through her hair. "This is insane. Absolutely insane. And- and you knew?"

She whipped around to face her father who was putting the dropped papers on the table. He gave her a sheepish look.

"You know I don't like bringing my work home with me." He said. "Besides, you've been busy. Is this your new manuscript?"

"Yes." She said stiffly. "Sorry I wouldn't have come over to show you if I had known that you guys were playing dress up."

"Rosie-" Bruce reached out to her.

"Don't you 'Rosie' me!" She jerked away from him. "Do you know what you're doing? How dangerous this all is? Bruce you're going to get yourself killed if you're not careful."

Bruce was quiet. He stared at her intensely, as if he was trying to read her mind. But she couldn't even tell what she was thinking right now. So many thoughts ran through her head. Alfred cleared his throat.

"I think I'll leave you two to... talk this out." He said, picking up Rosalind's manuscript again and walking out of the room. "I'll read this and... don't kill each other."

The door shut behind him, leaving them in silence. Rosalind leaned against the table, arms folded over her chest. She glared daggers at him as he just kind of... stood there. The whole thing was a bit awkward while he was still wearing the suit.

"I should of told you," Bruce finally said. "I'm sorry. You should of been the first person to know."

"Damn right." She said, crossing her arms. "You and I don't keep secrets from each other."

"And I never will again." He said. "Never."

"Good." her shoulders slumped a bit as she took it all in.

She sighed and began to circle him. She had only seen The Batman in blurry pictures in the news or online. Seeing the suit up close was interesting. The details of it, every little nook and cranny drew her eyes. Bruce stood still, letting her look. Rosalind lifted the cape at one point, feeling it in her hands. It was softer than she expected, although she saw it as impractical. She came back around to his front again.

Rosalind crossed her arms and leaned forward, inspecting the symbol on his chest. It looked detachable. Her eyes raised to his face where she looked at the cowl. His eyes were fixed on her, body going rigid. The space between his eyes and the openings of the mask were painted black. Was that... eyeliner? Rosalind bit her lip, holding back a laugh. They stared at each other for a moment. His eyes searched hers, waiting with baited breath for her to say something. Finally, she knit her eyebrows together as she looked up at him.

"...Why does it have pointy ears?"