"You didn't have to–" Bruce stops himself as he sees your exited eyes. You baked him a birthday cake, you put in some effort to make him happy on his birthday. Though birthdays–his birthday–have never been his favorite, he has to shut up and accept the cake. You baked him, and he doesn't want break his new adoptive child's heart. "Thanks." He pats your head gently. He has to forget that his parents died–murdered–on his birthday. Just today, for you.He's always been a softie towards children.