Hello, It’s Nice To Meet You.

Sorry guys but I'm dropping the past tense writing. Instead of having 'I saw' it's going to be 'I see' and stuff like that. I want it to seem like it's happening in the moment. Sorry if I slip up sometimes.

I'm sitting quietly on a bed in the children's unit of Gotham Hospital. Jessica was fine but was still given a bed so she could stay with us. The boys all had injuries too but not as bad as mine. Both Jeff and Josh had concussions, while Josh and John had bruised ribs. Jessica had a small cut on her face from when the man slapped her.

When I woke up Jessica told me everything. The ambulance took us all to the hospital and I was rushed into emergency surgery. They had all been checked over and given proper treatment then stuffed into what is now our room. Apparently our DNA came out that we were all brothers and sisters now and I wouldn't be surprised if it was because of the explosion. They didn't see me until I came out of surgery, 8 hours after I went in.

My leg had originally been an ordinary fracture but when the man picked me up, he pulled my bones apart and they had to fix it. They also repaired my vocal cords, though they didn't think I would even start talking until a week or more after surgery.

It's the night after the attack now and everyone but me is asleep. I was too traumatized. Every time I tried to sleep, all I could see was the nightmare that was yesterday. To distract myself, I started doodling on the white board the nice nurse had given me so that I could still communicate.

"Shouldn't you be asleep," whispered a voice next to me. I drop the board and clutch my chest as I stare at my hero from last night. He looked at what I was drawing and chuckled. "That's really good." It was the symbol that was on his chest right now along with the others I had managed to see in the situation.

I was so startled I tried to ask him 'Why are you here?' but I clutched my throat in pain.

He looks at me sympathetically and hands me the board.

Who are you? Why are you here? How did you even get in? He looked at the board then said, "Oh sorry, you probably didn't catch it last night. I'm Nightwing. I got in through the window. And I came because I was worried about how you were. No one should go through pain like that. And you even stayed awake! That's impressive, especially with how young you are. Though I have a few questions for you." He looks at me and I nod for him to continue.

"How did you even get hurt in the first place? Those guys obviously didn't do it. Where were your parents? We looked and couldn't find any missing children reports matching your descriptions." I started I tear up thinking of the explosion and everything that happened after. Please wake Jessica up and ask her. I can't talk and it would be very long to write. And there's also something you should see but I can't do it with how my leg is now but she can. He nodded and nudged Jessica awake.

Thankfully she only gasped and didn't scream so she didn't wake the others. "Why are you here," she asked. He didn't seem annoyed that she asked the same question as me. "I wanted to make sure you're all ok. Also sorry I woke you up, I asked Samantha a question and she said to ask you." She looked at me and rolled her eyes in a playful manner, "Thanks." I wrote back, Sorry. Come sit with me please. She nodded and came into my bed.

I look over at Nightwing and write You might want to sit if you want the answers still. It really is a long story. He sat on the edge of Jessica's bed and asked the questions again. She looked at me and I nod. I trust him. You can tell everything, even shifting. She nods and starts telling him what happened. He didn't believe us at first that we woke up as dogs but Jessica shifted after a bit of concentration. He stared, shocked, but reacted as if he had seen weirder things.

Jessica and I both tear up when she gets to the part about our parents. He looks pissed that they would say and do that to us. He was slightly pacing because of anger when Jessica finished telling him everything, but stopped when he saw me yawn, then Jessica. "I should go, it's late. Thank you for trusting me with this, I can tell it was hard. I'll try to help you guys anyway I can. But for now, get some rest." With that he jumped out the window.

I stopped Jess before she could go back to bed. I know you're probably not supposed to but can you sleep with me? I don't think I can sleep alone after remembering that. She nods and says, "I don't think I can either." She lays down next to me and I finally fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeffery was trying to nudge Jess and I awake but I swatted at him and Jess told him to go away. "You have to get up, the nurse said that child services are coming to talk to us." I shot up and grabbed my board. What time are they going to be here? Do you know what they want?

Jeffery sighed and nodded. "They're going to be here in a few minutes. My theory is that they're going to tell us we have to go to an orphanage. They might take us all today, leave you here to heal and take us, or take us all in a few days when you can at least talk; I'm not sure." My eyes grew wide with horror. I don't want to be left here alone!

Jessica hugs me. "We can't leave her here! I'm not leaving her here!" Jeffery sighed again. "I don't want to either, and that was only a theory. But if it does happen we'll fight the decision although they are adults and there's not really much we can do." I give him a blank stare. That's not really helping. He winced, "Sorry."

He sat on the edge of Jessica's bed and it reminded me of last night. He was about to say something else but I gasped, startling him. I started to write that Nightwing had come to visit last night and we told him everything, when the door opened and the nurse and another lady walked in. I quickly erase and scribble to Jessica since I didn't have to turn the board to her. Whatever happens, tell them about last night later. She looks sad about the whatever happens part but she nods.

The lady, who looks scary with spiked hair and black lipstick, quietly stands near the foot of the beds while the nurse checks out Joshua, John, and I. She feels both of their ribs to see if they're too bruised to move, then checks my leg, the bandages on my back, and looks down my throat to see my vocal cords. She looked a little annoyed that Jessica was in my bed but didn't say anything about it. Then she nodded at the other lady and says,"They should be fine," and leaves the room.

The lady stares at us for a second then gave an obvious fake smile. "Hello. I'm your social service handler and I'm here to take you to where you'll all be staying for now." We all sighed in relief that we were staying together. The nurse came in again, this time with crutches. She showed me how to use them and adjusted it to fit my height then helped me out of bed.

It was hard using the crutches but Jeffery stayed next to me and helped whenever I wobbled. We got outside and followed the lady to a van with Child Services printed on the side. It was on huge wheels though so Jeffery had to lift us up to get in; even John and Joshua because of their ribs. These wheels have to have been from a monster-truck. How is she even allowed to have these on a Child Services van?

It took about 25 minuets to get to the orphanage. It looks very run down and old. It has four stories so if I'm on a different floor than ground, it's gonna be hell. I can see a bunch of children on the sidewalk playing and coloring in chalk. It looks exactly like I expected in other words.

Once Jeffery got us down, the lady walks into the building and goes to the desk. All she says is, "These are the new ones," hands the man behind the desk a folder, and leaves. He looks at the folder for a minute then at us in disgust and motions for us to follow him. He heads to the stairs and I groan in my head since I can't physically do it.

I quickly turn to Joshua and give him my crutches then turn to Jeffery, balancing on one leg. I lift my arms up for him to pick me up since I don't have time to write anything. He picks me up and shifts me so I'm being carried piggyback. We go up the stairs until the man stops on the third story.

"Ok, here's your room, brats. You're welcome for walking all the way up here to show you."

They all say thanks while I gave a nod and a smile. He glares at me for some reason. "What, too snobby to even say thank you," he sneers. I start frantically looking for my board to write on to explain but Joshua puts his hand on my shoulder. "Sir," he says. "We just got out of the hospital and she has ripped vocal cords so she won't be able to speak for at least a week."

He slaps Joshua. "Don't talk back to me, brat! All of you into your room and don't come out until I say you can! Or else!" We all rush into the room. We hear a click and the man says, "I'll come let you out later, after I decide that you've learned your lesson about talking back." We hear him go back down and John tries to open the door but it was locked. He didn't let us out for five hours, and told us we had to eat whatever was left of dinner.

This was what happened every day. He would pick on me, one of the others would defend me, they got slapped and we all got locked in the room. On the second day of being here we just learned to ignore him and I always had my board ready to write when he was around.

Of course he still hit us; like I was in his way and going too slow on my crutches so he slaps me and tells me to get out of his way whenever he's walking.

On the fourth day, he yells up the stairs for us. "Hey, John, Samantha, Jeffery, Jessica, Joshua! Come down here, some people are here to see you." We head down, me on Jeffery's back and John holding my crutches. When we were coming down the last flight of stairs I saw that he was waiting for us at the bottom with three other people.

The young boy looks indifferent to seeing us approach, but the older teen stares at us and whispers something in the older man's ear. The older man squints his eyes at us then looks at the orphanage caretaker with anger in his eyes. "Excuse me sir, but these children do not look like the photos I received of them."

The caretaker looks at us in his usual disgusted look. "Oh well, you wouldn't have wanted them anyway they're, brats. They're only good for taking up space and-" the older teenager cuts him off. "That's not what he's talking about." He walks over to me and lifts his hand. I flinch and squeeze my eyes shut but when nothing happens I slowly open my eyes and the teenager is only pointing at my face.

He looks at me in sadness then turns his gaze to the caretaker with anger in his eyes. He gestures to my face and says, "They're covered in bruises, especially her. We were told what happened to them and they wouldn't still have bruises if the men had beaten them up."

The caretaker looks at us angrily, as if we had outright told them he hit us. "So? What you gonna do about it?" The older man speaks up. "Well, I'm Bruce Wayne, that is my son,Richard Grayson- a police officer, and this is Damien Wayne- one of my other sons. What we are going to do is close down this orphanage, find a better one for all the children here to live in, make sure you go bankrupt, put you in prison for child abuse, and I'm going to adopt these children."