Bruce blinks at the light weight of your shoulder knocking onto his shoulder, fast asleep. His reading pauses, and his arm slips around your shoulder. A light smile finds its way onto his lips, his cheek resting on the top of your head. Bruce loves you, as much as an emotionally stunted man can. He's loved you ever since he bundled you up in his arms from that lab and brought you home.

You were his kid in every sense of the word except for blood. You didn't need to be his blood, you didn't even need to be human for him to love you. Bruce savours the moments you show your love for him, or just don't look awkward when he tries to hug you or put a hand on your shoulder. This is one of those rare moments, where you fell asleep on his shoulder while he read a book.

He sighs softly and kisses your forehead, before one arm slides over your back, shifting you so your chin is on his shoulder and his arms are around your midsection, legs dangling uselessly beside his hips. "Let's get you to bed." Bruce whispers, smoothing down your messy hair. Surely, Batman can wait for another few minutes until he's made sure you're sleeping properly and comfortably.

A slightly rough shift of his feet going up the stairs makes you stir, and he makes a wincing face while shushing you softly. "Sorry, sorry, chum, I'm here. Sleep." Bruce creaks your door open, stepping over the clothes and papers strewn about your floor, reminding him to remind you to clean up your room, or ask Alfred to help you with cleaning it.

Bruce softly lowers you into bed, "You'll never want for anything," He whispers, patting your cheek softly, "You'll be under my protection until the day I die." Another soft, gentle kiss is pressed to the tip of your nose. "Sleep well, chum."