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Bruce couldn’t stop shivering. He wasn’t used to the cold, not like this. Whenever winter hit, he would stay bundled away with his parents, cozy and safe within their manor. Alfred would make them all tea, his dad would read to them all from his favourite book, and his mum would knit them all a brand new blanket each year. It was a tradition for her to start knitting them their new blanket the day of the first frost, and when she had completed each of their blankets, the ones from the year before would be added into the winter care packages that they created hundreds of each year.
This year, this year that was no longer their tradition.
With his mom and dad having been - having been killed, they weren’t around to do any of their traditions. Alfred had swooped in, taking him in as his own son - because that was what Bruce was. Alfred was his father, and Bruce wouldn’t lose him too.
Gotham’s Elite didn’t care what he, or his father, or even his parents wanted because they bribed the system to take Bruce away from Alfred and into ‘better’ care. Bruce didn’t believe for one single second that Alfred was any less than them just because he was a ‘butler’. Just because he was British. Alfred was even more and better than any of them because he was Alfred - and that made him the most awesome anywhere.
But Alfred, as awesome as he was and as awesome as Bruce had always known him to be, didn’t know until it was too late what the others of Gotham’s Elite had planned for them. It had been too late for them both to escape when they had come to take Bruce away.
Bruce had been afraid, one of the first emotions he had felt since his parents had been killed. They had come with men dressed in black, not something that Bruce thought would ever be normal.
Alfred obviously thought the same thing, because he had ordered Bruce to run - to go to the spot where they saw the raccoon cubs at the end of the rainbow. Bruce knew exactly where Alfred meant for him to go, but he hesitated - he didn’t want to leave Alfred all alone to face whatever was coming. Alfred didn’t give him a choice, ordering him to run once again.
Bruce finally did so, fleeing into the cold, frosty night.
Bruce had made it to the alley that Alfred had told him to run to, skin crawling and feeling like he had to run away. Alley’s didn’t mean good things, not anymore at least.
But he still made himself stay. He made himself make a small little nest between one of the walls and a dumpster. He worked hard at it, making it so that he was surrounded on all sides so that if - if… if a bullet came, it would be stopped by the walls of his nest.
He had rejoiced when he had found one of the blankets that they had donated forever ago now. It was one of the knitted ones that his mother had made. It was Bruce’s prize, and he made sure to treasure it as much as he could, even keep it as clean as he could. He would only use it to cover himself, never putting it on the ground, and to wrap a book in. It was one of his dads favourites - and while it was missing some pages and was ripped - it made Bruce feel like they were both still with him, still with him and waiting for Alfred to come and save them all once more.
Although it took him days to move everything into the correct spot and make his nest, Alfred…
Alfred didn’t come.
He didn’t come the next day, or the next week. He didn’t come the next night, or the next month. Alfred never showed up.
Bruce waited in the alley. His father would come for him, he knew it. He would come, and he would take away the cold.
The cold… the first frost had turned into the second frost, and then eventually the first snow. By the time the second snow hit, Bruce had made a friend.
Well, making a friend was probably not the truth. But Selina was nice to him, giving him some matchsticks to sell on the street to make some money. She gave him tips for how to pick out ones who would be more likely to buy his matchsticks, even. Bruce wasn’t sure why she wanted to help him, since she was in the same position as he was, but he nodded his thanks anyway.
She nodded back, before she left.
So Bruce called her his friend, and he couldn’t wait to tell his father. He would be so proud that Bruce had managed to make a friend, so happy.
Bruce tried to do his best to sell what she had given him, but it was hard. She didn’t have the same limitations that he did. Selina was able to leave the alley and go to other places, probably the better places that she had mentioned being able to sell the matchsticks easier.
But Bruce couldn’t leave his alley. This was where Alfred was going to meet him. This was where Bruce had to stay so that he didn’t accidentally miss Alfred.
And Bruce knew that Alfred was going to come for him. He knew it, and he never doubted it. Alfred just had to break out of wherever the Elite of Gotham was holding him, and that was something Bruce knew he could do.
It must have been taking so long because his father was probably having to do it legally, so that Bruce would be able to stay with him and not get taken away. Bruce didn’t really care if his father got him legally or illegally. He knew that they would be happy either way. And he also knew that his father had enough friends that he would be able to take Bruce with him and build them a nice home.
Bruce - Bruce was just getting so cold. Shivering, Bruce finally lit one of the matches. He held it as close to himself as he dared. He watched the flames dance, pulling his blanket higher up and tucking his book closer as it started to snow. He pretended he was back at the manor, wrapped in his mothers blanket.
When the match went out, Bruce lit another one. He lit another one, so that his father was able to read to them their favourite story.
He lit his last match, imagining Alfred was just in the other room. He was making them tea. Any moment now, he would return.
Any moment.
The match went out.
Any second now, and Alfred would be there.
He would come, and he would take away the cold.
Any moment.
Any…
Moment…
Bruce didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he must have. He must have, because Alfred had arrived - at long last.
Just as Bruce knew he would.
Bruce smiled widely, scrambling to stand up. Alfred looked so sad, so terribly sad, but he lifted Bruce into his arms and held him close. Bruce wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred’s neck, snuggling in close to his father.
He knew Alfred would come for him, and that he would take away the cold.
Bruce didn’t know how long they were holding each other, but Bruce hadn’t been held long enough when Alfred pulled back. Bruce pouted at him, before he froze - and then beamed.
His mom was standing beside Alfred - and his dad was behind her!
Alfred had not only come for him and gotten rid of the cold - but he had been gone so long he had gotten his parents back!
Bruce hugged Alfred tightly again, before he squirmed so that his mom could hold him. His dad joined their hug, pulling Alfred into their huddle, before they all started to walk away.
Bruce was so happy, he didn’t bother to pay attention to anything going on around him.
So happy was he; he never noticed the snowy shape they were leaving behind, tucked in with a knitted blanket and a tattered book.