Bruce had just met you, yet he had brought you to the Batcave. Why?

Well, you were a person with physical difficulties that he met on the streets of Gotham, all alone. By yourself. A kind soul, that’s what you were. Funny, energetic, and sweet. You didn’t deserve to be all alone. You would’ve gotten hurt out there, or worse—

Bruce shook the thought from his head as he sat you down on a metal table, dusting off your clothes a bit.

..Look. I know you don’t really know me, but I want to help you.

Need is what he wants to say.

He couldn’t stand seeing you without much accommodation to your disability, if any at all.

Just..let me help.