Perry

Steph looks at the boy dangling upside down from a tree, her heart doing some kind of weird squeeze-pinch thing in her chest that she hates. Ugh, feelings are gross.

"With great power," Peter says sagely, never mind that he's all of fourteen rather than forty, gangly limbs and pimply skin making up fifty percent of his mass, "comes great responsibility." The crowd of local children gathered around him are wide-eyed in some kind of awe, nodding along with the kind of vacant enthusiasm that means they have no idea what he's talking about.

It's annoying how good with kids he is. Back in her village, she was supposed to help mind the kids, but... well. She was off pestering Tim about seal hunting for a reason, when they made the fateful discovery of Peter, the lost Avatar, in a huge block of ice.

Up in the tree, Peter sneezes, and he shoots up in the air a few dozen feet and then floats back down to his perch again, nose scrunched up adorably. The gaggle of children below him all cheer in excitement, and Steph rolls her eyes with far too much fondness.

"Is he always like this?" asks a voice from beside her, and Steph doesn't tense, but she does shiver, just a little. Kon is a new-ish addition to their bunch, but Peter needs someone to teach him Earthbending, and Kon's the most skilled at it they've found. He's got the build for it, too, or is at least growing into his mass the way you'd expect, but she's still learning how to work around all that he can see with his senses, for all that he can't see with his eyes.

This whole journey has been like that, honestly; Steph went from growing up with her clan, isolated from the outside world except when they traded with other small clans on their pole, but... insular. The world beyond has been a revelation, but sometimes it makes her miss the home she always wanted to get away from, yearn for the quiet and steady life she had there the way she used to yearn for excitement.

"Yeah," she tells him. "He's pretty much always like this."

Kon hums, and she can't tell yet what that sound means, but it has a nice timber. She leans a little into his side, and after an awkward moment, he wraps an arm around her waist, holding her steady.

Peter calls out a goodbye to the kids, and with a burst of air he's flipping up, up, and then landing lightly in front of them, bouncing on his toes and beaming. "Did you get everything you were looking for?" he asks Kon, who had insisted they stop in this small town to restock their supplies. That's another thing he's added to their group--practicality, as well as the money to make sure that when he thinks they're running too low on supplies, they can actually get more. His controlling father hadn't been happy about him running off with them, but he's got so much money Steph can't really comprehend it, and he was at least willing to give his son enough to make sure he wouldn't starve a week into his adventure.

"Yeah," Kon agrees. "Now let's get out of here before someone tells the Fire Nation that they've seen some kid Airbending."

Peter looks a little sheepish. "Sorry," he mumbles.

Kon shakes his head, reaching out to gently punch Peter's shoulder. "It's cool. You shouldn't have to hide who you are. We'll just be careful, that's all."

Peter brightens again, and Steph finds herself leaning just a little further into Kon's side for a moment before pulling away, standing back to her full height. She's not as tall as either of the boys, which is a shame, but she'll make do. "Alright, let's go." She strides off toward where they left Spider, Peter's flying bison, trusting them to follow her lead.

So far, they always have, and she's starting to hope, just a little, that maybe they always will, too.

The new young master--Alfred refrains from referring to him as such near Bruce, stubborn and grief-blind as he currently is--kicks his feet back and forth, tongue poking out just a bit as he scribbles intently at his homework. Alfred does not regret insisting that the boy come spend his after school hours at the manor when his parents are away, even if it drove Bruce into hiding in the Batcave for even more hours than before. While Alfred's son is grieving, he has rejected attempts at comfort, and he is a grown man. Tim may not be Alfred's child or even his ward in any proper sense, but Alfred has never been the kind of man who would stand by and abet the degree of the Drakes' neglect for their son to go uncontested.

"If I might inquire, Master Tim, what are you working on?"

The boy looks up, his legs stilling and his expression all at once shifting from open focus to guarded politeness. "My homework."

Alfred nods. "So I see. I have little knowledge of what a current curriculum for your grade might cover, though, and I would be interested in hearing about your studies if you would like to share."

It aches to see how cautious the boy clearly is, expecting a trap in any indication of attention or interest. Alfred merely waits, attempting to project only calm curiosity.

"Oh," Tim finally says. "Well, I'm working on this algebra problem right now..." he trails off, still appearing painfully unsure.

"I always enjoyed maths," Alfred offers. "Although I never progressed much beyond the basic classes I took in my youth. Are you enjoying it?"

Tim brightens, and then seems to catch himself, dimming his enthusiasm somewhat before he replies. "Yeah. It's interesting. It's kind of like a puzzle, you know? Except there's so many different ways to get to the right answer, and sometimes if I'm bored I'll try and figure out how many different ways I can find. You know?"

A great detective in the making, Alfred thinks, not without a little bit of sadness. He understands Tim's reasons for wanting to take up the Robin mantle; Alfred cannot truthfully say he disagrees with them. But he disagrees with allowing more children into this life, no matter how trapped Bruce may feel by Tim's ultimatum. "I'll admit, I was always more keen on finding one way to solve as many problems as I could," Alfred admits. "Would you show me what you're working on there? I'd like to see how you're addressing it."

"Yeah!" Tim agrees, pushing his notes over a little so that Alfred can come stand beside him, peering over his shoulder. His work is laid out neatly, and Alfred finds it easy to follow for all that it sometimes veers off toward the edges of the page, turning to cram all of the equations into some semblance of the same space.

They discuss the maths until it is nearly time for patrol. Alfred fights the urge to keep Tim here, safe in the warm glow of the kitchen lights, for the rest of the night. But perhaps... "Would you like some hot chocolate before you go out?"

Tim nods, hesitation eased away by their lengthy discussion. "Yes please! Thank you, Alfred."

As he prepares the hot chocolate for Tim and some tea for himself, Alfred finds that he is grateful for Tim's presence, both in this kitchen and in his life, no matter what brought him here. The past is done, but he will do his best to prevent them all from making the same mistakes. For Tim's sake, he hopes he succeeds.