Note: This was mostly because I just couldn't resist. Heh.

Epilogue:

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A few years later, the smoke alarm in Dusty's room wailed like a screaming lunatic, shattering the silence that was their family dinner. Dick was on his feet and rushing for his son in an instant, Bruce just a second after him - he'd come back years earlier, and was just as surprised as everyone when he came home to find he was now a grandfather. But after all the teasing was done, he'd sat Dick down during a quiet moment and told his son how proud he was. But that was another story.

For now though, all the men (and boy) of Wayne Manor stood gaping at what they found in Dusty's room: smoke curling upwards and inciting the alarm, a nest of scorched blankets and burnt playthings. And somewhere in the middle of the wreckage, Dusty stared at them with wide blue eyes, completely unharmed.

"Dusty!" Dick cried, immediately scooping up the toddler. "You're not hurt?"

The toddler shook his head, still too frightened to speak. His small mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. Tears started forming in the corners of his eyes and Dick hugged him close, murmuring soothing words just as he used to do when Dusty was a baby.

"What happened?" Bruce demanded, making the child cling tighter to his father.

"I think I have an idea..." Tim said slowly, his eyes cataloguing the damage. At Bruce's prompt, he looked to his older brother and explained, "Dick, you said Cheyenne was a meta, right?"

The eldest Wayne brother stared at him, then at his son, and finally, his eyes went to Bruce. "Oh crap."