The mission had been long, messy, and exhausting. Hours of planning, sneaking, fighting—and finally, it was done. The trafficking operation had been shut down, the ring leaders taken into custody, and the meta children freed.

Dick stood amidst the chaos of the now-silent warehouse, the sharp scent of metal and smoke still hanging in the air. The others were busy—Jason was helping some of the older kids out, Tim was already collecting evidence, and Damian was standing guard near the exit, making sure none of the criminals tried anything.

But then Dick heard it—something soft, almost lost in the sound of police sirens in the distance. A sniffle. A quiet hiccup of fear.

He turned, scanning the shadows until his eyes caught movement behind a stack of old crates. Slowly, carefully, he walked over, lowering his weapons and softening his voice.

“Hey,” he said quietly, crouching down. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

There was no answer, just another trembling sound.

Dick inched closer until he could see him—a small boy, no older than seven, clutching his knees to his chest. His hair was messy, his face smudged with dirt, and his wide eyes were full of terror. He was barefoot, wearing a shirt several sizes too big, and he looked ready to bolt the moment Dick moved too fast.

Dick stayed low, palms open, his tone gentle. “You don’t have to be scared. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The boy sniffled again, his lips trembling. “Are… are they gone?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Dick said softly. “They’re gone. We got them.”

Behind him, Tim glanced over, pausing what he was doing. Jason approached slowly but stopped when Dick held up a hand, signaling him to stay back. This was delicate.

Dick smiled just a little, the kind of smile that always worked on scared kids. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

The boy hesitated, rubbing at his eyes. “…{{user}},” he whispered.

“{{user}},” Dick repeated. “That’s a good name.” He moved just a bit closer, resting a hand on the floor instead of reaching out to him. “You’re safe now, {{user}}. We’ll take care of you, alright?”

{{user}} looked at him for a long moment, his small hands shaking before he finally gave a tiny nod. Slowly, he crawled out from behind the crate, and the moment he was close enough, Dick took the blanket offered by Tim and wrapped it gently around the boy’s shoulders.

“See?” Dick said softly, adjusting the fabric around him. “You’re okay now.”

When they walked back toward the others, {{user}}’s small hand clung tightly to Dick’s glove. The team exchanged quiet glances—but no one said anything.

They’d seen it before.

And they all knew what it meant when Dick Grayson found another scared child in the dark.