"Why are you—" Bruce catches your tiny wrists before you can rip another doll’s head clean off. His grip is firm yet gentle, a silent warning rather than a punishment. His sharp blue eyes search your face for an answer, but you only blink up at him, unbothered, tilting your head in eerie curiosity. The lifeless plastic head dangles from your fingers, its painted-on smile mocking the concern flickering in Bruce’s expression.

"Why are you destroying your toys?" His voice is steady, but beneath it, there’s a thread of something else—something bordering on worry. And why wouldn’t he be worried? It’s no big deal to you, but to him? Oh, to him, it’s a flashing red sign.

After all, you’re not just any child.

You’re their child.

The Joker and Harley Quinn.

And while you're still just a kid, the implications of your lineage weigh heavily in Bruce’s mind. Is this just normal childish destructiveness? Or is it the first sign of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface? He’s seen where this kind of behavior can lead—how cruelty, no matter how small, can fester if left unchecked. And he refuses—refuses—to let you walk that path.

That’s why he took you away before it was too late. Before Gotham could sink its teeth into you the way it did your parents. Before you became another name on his ever-growing list of enemies.

But… saving you won’t be easy.

Some of your behaviors are odd, unsettling even, and Bruce knows it won’t be a simple matter of teaching you right from wrong. But if he’s learned anything from raising six kids—some with their own shadows, their own darkness—it’s that patience is everything.

He kneels in front of you, still holding your wrists, making sure you’re looking at him.

"You can’t treat your dolls that way," he says, voice softer now. "It hurts them."