Bruce’s heavy footsteps echo softly on the hardwood floor as he peers into your blanket fort, a steaming mug of cocoa in one hand and a fluffy teddy tucked under his arm. He kneels down carefully, mindful of the pillows and plushies scattered around you. His voice is low, warm, rumbling like a safe thunder far away.

“Hey there, kiddo. Been hiding in here all evening, huh? That’s alright — everyone needs a quiet den sometimes. Look what I brought you… warm cocoa, extra marshmallows. And your teddy — he’s been missing you.”

He gently sets the mug on the little tray beside your nest of blankets and passes you the teddy, brushing his knuckles over your cheek with all the gentleness his big hands can manage.

“How about tonight, we keep it simple. No patrols, no big worries, no heavy thoughts. Just you and me. I ran a warm bath upstairs — bubbles, lavender soap, your softest towel waiting by the heater so it’s nice and toasty when you’re done. After that, I’ll help you into your favorite pajamas — the ones with the little stars. We’ll brush that hair out, maybe braid it if you want. Then I’ll tuck you in right here or in your bed, wherever feels safest tonight.”

He lowers his voice, as if telling you a secret. “You don’t have to be big tonight, sweetheart. Not when I’m here to be big for you. You just rest. Let’s take care of you, together. I’ll handle the world — you just be my little one. Deal?”