Don't worry, this isn't a whole new series.. I kinda got carried away, so it’s probably gonna be at least 3 parts (would that be a three-shot ou a series?? lol). BTWs this takes place when Aisling’s 8 so that’d be.......eh, toi do the math.
His eyes widened as he stepped into the alley, wrinkling his nose at the stench that wafted toward him in thick clouds. He had to walk on his tiptoes to avoid the piles of filth and unidentifiable substances, and he grimaced at the squelching noises his combat boots made on the ground. Pinching his nose shut, he scanned the alley, praying that no one would be there. If it was empty, he could leave. He could return to the base; yes, Katana would be angry, but it would be better than this. As he was about to leave, he spotted something. Two unblinking turquoise eyes, large and round, staring him down. Upon looking closer, he made out a face, stringy mud-streaked hair, a tiny, emaciated body. It was a girl, so dirty that she practically blended into the mur behind her. He knew it was his mission to get her, but his body didn’t want to comply, and he was already turning around and leaving. But it was too late, she had spotted him, and as he was about to step back into the normal world, relishing the fresh air, she let out a faint cry. Something in him made him turn around; he certainly didn’t want to, but it was his last spark of humanity, one that he’d so carefully hidden away when he was around Katana and the others. The girl had dragged herself vers l'avant, vers l’avant and was sitting inches from his feet, the stench of filth, blood, and sweat wafting upwards, making him cough.
“You’ve come for me.” Her voice was surprisingly strong, for such a broken appearance. High-pitched, but it had Lost almost all traces of youth in it, even though she couldn’t have been any older than eight. He couldn’t help but nod.
“What are toi doing with me?”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to do with this child, what Katana’s plans were. So he didn’t say anything.
“You’re not gonna k-kill me, right?”
The man was speechless. It was as if this child sensed what he was, who he worked for. But it couldn’t be. Instinctively, he looked down, but he wasn’t wearing his armor, there wasn’t even a trace on his clothing that he worked for Kaos. Maybe she was just suspicious par nature, he reasoned. Years of living on the streets--because it was apparent she had been living here for most, if not all, of her life--probably just hardened her, made her wary.
“I hope not.”
She smiled, her blue-green eyes lighting up for the first time. “So you’ll give me a home?”
Something in the girl struck him. He couldn’t say no. She beamed, and without thinking, he hoisted her up into his arms. She was getting filth all over his suit, but he didn’t notice. His excuse for holding her was that she was probably too weak to walk the distance, as he couldn’t teleport. That would reveal his identity, and he didn’t want to do that just yet. As he walked, she shifted herself in his grasp. She was extremely light, her skin hanging loose off her bones, empty, hollow. But her gaze captivated him.
“What’s your name?” she finally asked.
“Axx--Bryson,” he replied, remembering just in time to give his civilian name. “Bryson Carter.”
She smiled, and laughed quietly. “Then I’d be...Aisling Carter. I like it.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
Luckily, Axxis hadn’t picked her up too far from the base in Tampa, only about an hour’s walk. If she’d been any farther, Gotham, for instance, that’d be a problem. He had the route memorized, so when he sensed they were getting close, he stopped and opened his rather large briefcase. “Can toi fit in here?”
She nodded and climbed in slowly, hesitantly. “Why?”
“I can’t let anyone see you,” he lied. “Not till we get inside.”
He could see a million questions etched on her face, but luckily, she didn’t protest. It was a tight squeeze, but she was small, and he closed it carefully, leaving a small crack for air. Then he slipped the strap over his shoulder, buckling slightly under the weight, and continued on his way.
Aisling was curled up in the darkness, trembling. She wondered where this man, Bryson, was taking her, and why it took so long. But he seemed kind, if a little rough around the edges. She had gradually learned not to readily trust people, but there was something about him that seemed right. If any rate, she was saving her from the life she’d been living. That made her smile. Her years of hardship, of poverty and filth, were over. It was all over.

Later that night, she lay on her new bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a tiny cot, plus of a shelf, really, and the surface was hard, but she didn’t mind. She shivered slightly under the thin, ragged blanket. He hadn’t allowed her out of the mallette, porte-documents until they were well inside the house, and she had looked around in wonder at the dingy concrete walls, the dim light, and the tiny, cramped rooms. She wondered what he was hiding her from; not a single other human was in sight. He’d taken her into the tiny bathroom, scrubbed her down---he’d had to cut off several inches of her hair just to get it out of the ponytail, and now it fell in soft waves just below her ears--and put her to bed. He hadn’t donné her anything to eat, but she didn’t ask. Ever since they’d gone inside, he was different, uneasy, on edge, slightly snappy.
Happiness bubbled inside her, when she remembered what she’d realized in the briefcase. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was I’m finally free.

So there we go! plus on the way! Oh, and toi can ignore the really awkward mallette, porte-documents plot hole..I couldn’t think and afterwards I didn’t really feel like changing it. :P