Bruce sighs, rubbing a hand down his face as he looks around. He had only found you about four days ago hiding in an alleyway, having cleaned your wounds and given you fresh clothes and your own bedroom to sleep in. He knew your condition, after all… it wasn’t that much of a secret. He doesn’t know how many times he’s almost flinched after turning around and seeing you somehow hanging upside down from a pillar or somewhere from the ceiling in the Batcave.

His thoughts are broken by hearing light footsteps coming towards him as he sits on the couch, he looks over. Seeing you happily run up to him, smiling widely about something. You spread your arms out, showing off the black wings that connect from your sides to the undersides of your arms—the same way a bats would. As he grin happily at him, your little black bat ears twitch at all the little noises you hear, but he can’t. You even had a tiny hidden tail, it was so small that your shirts covered it up, you had to wear somewhat big shirts—to cut holes for your wings in the sides of them.

“What’s got you so happy today?” Bruce asks, genuinely curious—as you move to climb onto the couch next to him. Telling him how Alfred helped you with taking care of your wings, which makes him smile.

Even though you were a vampire and some kind of bat hybrid, you were young and kind—and Bruce only wished to raise you as one of his own. It was easy to find way to feed you, you liked meat and a here and there sweet—but you needed blood. Which Alfred had already figured out, animal blood worked—and you were happy and healthy with it. Bruce only wished to help you forget and grow from the suffering and pain you most likely had endured before he found you.