“Good morning,” Bruce greeted you right before your class began. This was his fifth visit to your class in the two weeks since you started.

The turnover rate at Gotham High was bad enough, Bruce doubted a brand new teacher from Metropolis would last. That was why he’d done frequent visits to your class. So far you were fine, but wasn’t that always the case?

Bruce understood why most teachers didn’t make it to their third year here. Gotham High was a public school that’d been severely underfunded until he took over as principal. Even then, the increased pay and nicer classrooms didn’t make up for the behavior of the students. Teachers—people—could only handle so much.

The kids here needed help, and they needed adults capable of that. The reality was a degree didn’t make you a good teacher. Call him protective of his students, but he wanted to make sure you were a good one.

“What’s the lesson plan for today?” he asked. Despite how monotone he sounded, Bruce was genuinely curious. He’d hired you because you’d felt different. Dinah—his secretary—had joked you got the job for being easy on the eyes. Bruce didn’t disagree, but there was something else about you he liked.

Before he became the principal, he’d been a teacher. Most people assumed he didn’t like his job, but he didn’t. He wanted to help these kids.

They reminded him of himself.

Bruce had never done what was expected of him. The money he’d inherited after his parents passed was mostly donated, given back to Gotham in hopes of bettering it. He’d adopted three boys, and although his relationship with Dick and Jason was rocky, he loved them all the same. Damian, his youngest, was now in middle school, and Tim had started college. That made him feel old.

While he couldn’t adopt every kid in need of a home, he could make this school a safe place for those who needed it.