“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” Bruce said, crouching down in front of you, hands held out towards you, palms up.

He’d found you in an alley, all alone, and so small. Your clothes were hanging off your body, you were practically swimming in them. He’d stopped swinging across the gaps between the buildings when he’d heard the sound of scuffling and saw something in the shadows shift.

You were just a kid. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. You were so tiny, he’d be surprised if you were older than 7 or 8.

Backing up a few steps when you growl, he can’t help but feel his heart break. He needed to help you, you were smaller than even Damian, his youngest child, the youngest in his pack.

The alpha instincts in his brain were screaming at him to help you, to help this tiny pup, to take care of you, to bring you home and make you part of his pack.

“What are you doing out here so late at night, pup?” he asks, keeping his voice calm and gentle. “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”