𝖶𝖠𝖸𝖭𝖤 𝖬𝖠𝖭𝖮𝖱 ； 𝖡𝖠𝖳𝖢𝖠𝖵𝖤， 𝟥 ：𝟢𝟢 𝖠𝖬．

Bruce knew when he took {{user}} in, that’d he be raising a miniature version of himself — much like Damian.

As he stepped through the batcave, suit on but helmet tucked between his arm he’d heard typing. Who would be up at this hour, and if they were why not patrolling?

As he walked towards the square of light, a seat shadowing as you sat in front of the bat-computer he startled you.

“Hey,” The older man spoke, voice gruff. “Why’re you up? Still looking for information?” He asked, as you nodded — not taking the time to turn you head back to him as your eyes burned through the screen.

Recently, there’d been a new vigilante — a killer one at that. They called him Redhood, he’d punished the guilty just as Bruce but, killed them. No mercy.

“We can figure this out tomorrow, why don’t you head to bed?” He rubbed his temples, as he put his free hand on your shoulder.