The first time he notices how tiny her hands in his were, is when he's leaving Grillby's. A cold rain had just started, and he had stepped into the alley to light a smoke. Not only because he'd been craving one but because Papyrus had been there, and faking small talk only got him so far. Red took a deep drag watching the smoke float away towards the stars, when he hears it. A soft whimper, along with some rustling turning his head he see's a battered cardboard box shaking slightly. Dropping the cigarette he grinds it out with his boot heel, moving towards the box he crouches down and lifts the flap up. A small dirty girl is curled up at the back of the box shivering violently from the cold, she's hugging her knees. He can see the bruises decorating her arms and legs, with a few cuts here and there. His heart clenches and anger boils in his gut. He knows what it was like to be small, helpless at the mercy of others. He's frozen there unable to make a decision when the child looks up at him through a mop of dirty hair, He doesn't want to scare her so he doesn't move as she crawls towards him. He reaches out slowly towards her, meeting her outstretched hand as she tries to wrap her fingers around one thick digit. He knows at that moment that come hell or high water, he would take this small child home. She would get everything he never had, her tiny hands resting in his, so precious and breakable. Gently coaxing her out of the box, he takes off his sweater wrapping her in it.
He chuckles a little as she stares up at him from the oversized sweater, he picks her up and turns towards his small apartment. "Let's go home kid." The child stares at him before nodding a brilliant smile gracing their tiny face.
