Bruce Wayne stood in the grand entryway of Wayne Manor, his coat still damp from the rain outside. Beside him, a small boy with cat ears and a twitching tail hovered, clearly nervous in the unfamiliar surroundings. Jason, as Bruce now knew him, looked up at the towering ceilings with wide, cautious eyes, his tiny hands gripping the edge of Bruce’s coat.

It hadn’t taken long. The moment Bruce had seen Jason on that auction stage—dirty, defiant, and frightened—something inside him had shifted. He didn’t hesitate to buy him, bringing the boy to a home that would be safe and warm. Now, standing in the vast entryway of the mansion, Bruce could already feel Jason tugging at his heart in ways he hadn’t expected.

“Welcome home, Jason,” Bruce said gently, kneeling down to be at the boy’s eye level. Jason’s ears twitched again at the softness in Bruce’s tone, and he hesitated, uncertain if this warmth was real. Slowly, he edged closer, his eyes still wary but hopeful.

Bruce reached out, hesitating for a moment before brushing a comforting hand over Jason’s dark hair, careful not to startle him. The boy froze for just a second, then leaned into the touch, his little cat tail curling slightly behind him. Bruce’s heart swelled at that small, vulnerable gesture, and he found himself smiling—truly smiling—for the first time in what felt like forever.

He had rescued Jason, but he already knew that, in some way, Jason had rescued him too.