You guys are going to HATE me for this story... BUT I AM NOT SORRY! I've had this planned ever since BEFORE the first story in Hana Martha's life was published, so NO HATERS ALLOWED!

Anyways, I do not own Batman or Flash or Nightwing or Ravager or Red Robin or Alfred or Impulse or Black Canary or Arsenal or...

CHAPTER 1

Damian swore as he pulled his tie tight, straightening his slick black jacket over his crimson dress shirt as he took the stairs two at a time, coming to jump into the foyer of Wayne Manor. Bruce, from his position in the kitchen, chuckled at his youngest son from behind his newspaper, coffee in one hand. Iris, Damian's feisty ginger wife, sat at the kitchen table with her father-in-law, her shoulder-length hair in a choppy disarray as Hana, Damian's three-year-old daughter, 'brushed' it with a plastic princess comb. The black haired little girl turned, saw her father, and squealed, stumbling into his legs and beginning to talk all about her dream from the night before. Damian couldn't help but grin as he picked up the blue-nightgown-clad girl and propped her on his hip, going to snatch up a piece of bacon from Bruce's plate. ″Hey! Get your own,″ Bruce teased, smacking Damian's hands with the newspaper. Damian rolled his eyes, hefting his daughter up higher onto his hip as she began to talk about how Princess Jasmine and Princess Ariel had invited her to a tea party, but the two couldn't decide whether to have it on a flying carpet or underwater.

″Maybe Aquaman will let you go to Atlantis for your tea party,″ Iris teased as she took her daughter back. Damian and Bruce both glared softly at the speedster, who laughed loudly and tossed her crimson hair.

″Iris-″

″Just a joke, Dami,″ Iris assured her husband, patting his arm as she set Hana down. ″Hana, sweetie, why don't you go wake up Uncle Dick?″

Hana's golden eyes brightened, and she squealed loudly before clambering up the stairs. She was rather small for her age, so she stumbled up the stairs rather than ran. Her tiny, freckled shoulders were rosy pink under the straps of her nightgown. Damian noted that one of her straps was untied, but he didn't have time to chase after her.

″I'm running late, Father,″ he said to Bruce. ″Can I take the Zonda?″

The man's navy eyes narrowed in suspicion, the wrinkles around his eyes lengthening and deepening considerably. ″You're not running that late.″

Damian rolled his eyes. ″Alright. How about one of the Porsches?″

″The black one? No. The red, fine.″

Iris rolled her eyes. ″What is it with Bats and black?″

Damian growled softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ″Iris, we're not to talk about anything like that except for you-know-where.″

Iris sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. ″I know, Damian. I'm not a child.″

″Then why the Aquaman and Bat comments? Hm?″

Iris rolled her eyes again, standing and taking her plate to the sink. ″A comment is hardly a conversation, Dami. Especially if it's just a joke. You know, the things that you laugh at?″ She snorted and murmured under her breath, ″Or at least, non-Bats do...″

Damian snarled, tying on his shoes as he simultaneously searched the key rack for the red Porsche keys. ″Iris.″

″Really? A warning tone? DamianWayne, I'm not a teenager- nor am I a dog.″

Bruce slowly hid behind his newspaper again.

″I never said you were! I was simply trying to get your blabbering to stop.″

″Blabbering? Oh, well, good morning to you, too, sweetheart.″

″Iris!″

″Why are you so moody this morning?″

″I'm running late. Someone decided not to wake me up when she got up this morning.″

″It's not my job to wake you in the morning! You're almost twenty-six years old, Damian!″

Damian growled to himself, looking at his wife with a growing anger. ″You knew I came in from... patrol...″ he whispered the word ″late last night!″

″It's not my fault you don't know when to take a break! You know how often Hana asks me why Daddy comes home so late? Why Daddy's never around anymore? You're always either at work or with the Outsiders or the League and I just-″ Iris threw her hands in the air, and Bruce flinched. ″I don't know what to tell her, Damian! Maybe it would be easier if she knew we were superheroes-″

″NO.″

″Damian-″

″I don't give a damn, Iris. We are not telling her-″

″Why? So that she doesn't want to join the family business when she's older? Damian! Hana has hyperactive reflexes. She has a hyperactive metabolism. She's always running around or shoving food down her throat.. It's all the signs of a speedster!″ Iris's face was red, her freckles blending in with the angry flush on her face and neck.

Damian turned his neck away, a twitch above his eyebrow and a vein popping out of his neck. ″Dammit, Iris, she is not going to be a superhero-″

″WHAT IF SHE WANTS TO?″

By now Bruce had slipped out of the room, but was listening in the doorway, rubbing his temples at the shouting voices. He knew that Dick had to be up by now, with all of the screaming, and was probably trying to distract Hana so that the child didn't come downstairs to her parents fighting yet again. The last time that had happened, it had taken all day to calm her down, along with several Pillow Pets, glasses of chocolate milk, and a marathon of 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic', which Damian and Iris both were forced to watch as punishment by Linda and Bruce. Wally and Dick had just laughed at the two as they gulped a beer and watched football with Bart and Tim in the entertainment room.

There was silence in the kitchen. Then, Iris sighed and pulled some hair out of her reddened face. ″You need to get to work. You're even later now.″

Damian walked towards the garage. He stopped a moment, as if about to make some comment to his wife. Instead, he turned around and kept walking, brushing past his older brother as Dick came downstairs clad in only pajama pants, Hana clinging onto his back like a baby Koala bear.

″Hey, Lil' D. Why aren't you at-″

″I outgrew that name a long time ago, Grayson. I thought you understood that by now.″

Hana looked at her father with pursed lips and teary eyes, sensing her father's aggressive mood. ″Daddy-″

″I've got to go to work, sweetheart,″ he said, kissing her head before ruffling her curly onyx hair. ″I'll see you later, okay?″

Hana sighed, nodding. Damian left, slamming the garage door shut. Hana rubbed her cheek against her uncle's bare back, sighing heavily. Dick smiled sadly at the action, reaching back to lift the girl into his arms. ″Wanna have a sock race today?″

″Don't you have work, too, Dick?″ came Bruce's knowing voice from the other room. Dick's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he stuck out his tongue. ″Your face will get stuck like that.″

″How did you- Y'know what? Never mind.″

Hana laughed loudly, a perfect little ringing laugh that made her sound like a Gerber baby. Dick grinned, tickling the child's sides to make her laugh even more. Hana squealed and jumped from her uncle's arms and ran, stumbled, into the kitchen, where she hid behind her mother. Iris let out an angry huff before scooting the child into the living room. ″Sweetheart, Mommy's gonna go for a run, okay?″ she said to the tot, patting her head. ″Stay with Grandpa Bruce and be good, okay? Mommy'll be back in ten minutes.″

Hana pouted, but nodded. Dick looked at the child with pity, sighing to himself. He felt sorry for Hana. Ever since Damian and Iris had decided not to tell the girl about their 'extracurricular activities', the couple had been fighting more often. Iris wanted to tell Hana and get the girl trained under her father or herself, while Damian was adamant that the tot would never be a superhero. Due to their arguing, Damian had been spending more time at work and with the League and Outsiders, and Iris had been out with the Titans almost every day, when she wasn't working at the Watchtower's forensics lab on Cold Cases, just for something to do. Hana had become a thought in the afterburners, when she had been the origin of the argument. Not that Dick blamed her- he could never blame his angel of a niece for her parents' arguing. All couples went through rough patches. It was just that a three-year-old didn't know that. Hana had no way of knowing that it was all going to be okay- not unless somebody told her.

Dick took Hana's hand in his, leading her back up the stairs as Iris left through the front door. ″Wanna help Uncle Dickie get his stuff together, Hana?″

″Yeah!″ the girl exclaimed with excitement, jumping from one foot to the other as she grinned. Dick smiled when he saw Hana's tiny teeth, just barely peeking out from her gums.

Once they arrived at Dick's room, the man pulled out his GPD uniform. Laying the navy blue suit on the bed, Dick pulled out three ties and laid them down next to it before pulling out the rest of his things. He called over his shoulder to Hana from his position hunched over in his closet, ″Which tie, floricea? Red, blue, or black?″

Chewing on the ends of her hair, Hana plopped down at the foot of the bed and stared up at the ties, touching each one of them with reverence, as if each was a piece of christened satin. ″Uh... Dis one!″ she exclaimed after a moment, holding up the black tie.

Dick looked up from readying his gun and chuckled, shaking his head. He placed the gun back in its holster, going over to his niece and ruffling her bedhead of curls. ″Right...″ he said under his breath, ″...just like a Bat...″

″Wha?″

″Nothing, floricea. Why don't you go get your comb and spray? I'll brush your hair for you.″

The toddler squealed, stumbling out of the room to go get her comb. Dick chuckled, shutting the door and quickly donning his uniform and tie. He mussed up his hair and waited for Hana to knock on the door. She never did, though, and after five minutes, Dick got worried. Hana's room was just two doors down, and if she couldn't find her things, she would have already called for help.

Dick poked his head out of the door, blue eyes flashing as he glanced around for his niece. ″Hana?″

A screech met his worried call, and Dick leaped into action, darting towards Hana's room with his tazer in hand. ″HANA-″

Dick froze in the doorway, his body tense. After a moment, he snorted and put away his taser, rolling his eyes. ″I almost shocked you, y'know. You should call before you come over.″

The six-foot young man, with dark black hair and goatee, smirked, his navy eyes shining with mischief as he lifted Hana to his waist. Hana was screaming happily and blabbering on about ″Unca Tim, Unca Tim!″. Tim grinned at his adoptive brother, running a hand through Hana's long locks. She nuzzled into the touch, but didn't stop talking. ″Right. Because the Demon Brat would actually let me see her.″

Dick rolled his eyes. He knew Tim was exaggerating- Damian and Tim were actually very close in their more mature ages. Tim, now almost thirty, was less harsh on his younger brother and more open. Damian, in turn, had stopped trying to kill Tim. It did wonders for their relationship. The truth was that Tim had been busy for a long while, hence his scruffy face, and unable to visit. He was helping Bart with a ″secret assignment″. The two said nothing about it, even leaving out Rose and Stephanie from their plans. Dick was suspicious, but trusted his younger brother to make the right decision. If something were off, Bart and Tim would tell everyone... Right?

″Unca Tim! Unca Tim! Will you bwush my haiw?″

Tim grinned, kissing the girl's head. His grin broadened when he saw Dick's downtrodden face. ″Yes, of course I'll brush your hair, Hana.″

″Yay!″

Dick left, murmuring something about work, leaving Tim with his niece. Tim set the little girl down on her green bed, taking up the comb to brush out the tangles in Hana's hair. When he would come across a rather large one, he used the 'Octa-spway', as Hana had dubbed it. It was de-tangler spray, the bottle bright green with an orange octopus across the front. Hana began to babble as Tim ran his fingers through her hair, his thoughts drifting to his barren wife with a heavy heart. He and Stephanie had often talked about adoption, but at the same time, they didn't want to bring a child into the 'hero life' so purposefully. Maybe they were barren for a reason. Maybe they weren't meant to create another generation of heroes.

″Unca Tim? Awe you wistening?″

Tim was jolted out of his thoughts. ″Huh? Yeah! Sorry, baby. What were you talking about?″

Hana scoffed and began her tale again, making Tim smile. Slowly, he breathed in Hana's scent. She smelt like her de-tangler and chocolate milk, the usual scent for the small child.

There came a knock at the open door, and Tim looked up to see Bruce standing there. ″Tim. You didn't say hello.″

Tim rolled his eyes, smiling softly as he embraced his adoptive father. ″Sorry, Bruce. I was eager to see my little niece!″

Bruce looked at Hana, who was beaming up at her grandfather and uncle. ″Right. Well, we need to talk in private. Hana, your mommy just got back from her jog. Why don't you go say hi?″

Hana's golden eyes lit up, and she grabbed her miniature ladybug Pillow Pet before floundering down the stairs. Bruce waited until he heard Hana's happy squeal before turning to his son, all smiles and sunshine set aside. ″What did you find out?″

Tim shoved his hands in the pockets of his blazer, a frown deep-set on his face. ″Not much. We know he's back, that's for sure. We're just not positive how long he's been in business, much less if he's back to full strength or not.″

Bruce scowled, rubbing his forehead. ″Do Wally and Barry know?″

Tim shook his head. ″No. And Bart and I want to keep it that way. Right now, it's just us three that know. There's no need to cause a panic when we don't even know what he's after.″

A gloom settled in the room as Bruce turned his back on his son, going towards the doorway. He placed a tightly-packed fist on the wooden frame, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. ″Right. No need to panic... But still, I want to up security around the Manor. I've already planted tracking devices on Iris and Hana, along with cameras in all of Hana's... What are those things?″ Bruce gestured to the stuffed animals on Hana's bed.

Tim picked one up, a turtle, and began to tap on its plastic eyes. ″Pillow Pets. And... cameras? Really, Bruce? That's creepy, borderline stalker.″

Bruce snorted, rolling his eyes. ″Because you didn't already put cameras in their van and all over Gotham and Central.″

Tim flushed, tossing the toy back onto the bed. ″Y-Yeah, but it's not a kid's toy. Really, Bruce?″

Bruce's teasing tone was suddenly gone, his face stoic but eyes burning with a passion. ″I've been much too close to losing more children before... I am not planning on losing my only grandchild.″

PS- The whole story is already written. Five chapters in all. I'll update every day- I KNOW! Scotty updating on a REGULAR BASIS? WTH?! Haha! But, yeah, you're not gonna like me for the next chapter... *winces* That's when the plot is revealed.

PLEASE REVIEW! If you review, you'll get COOKIES! (not really, but Hana will give you a Baby!Bat!kiss on the cheek)