As the world came back into focus, and you felt a dull throb behind your eyes, you felt two calloused fingers touching your neck, as if checking for pulse. You blinked a few times before being able to recognize the figure next to you. “How are you feeling?” Bruce’s deep voice cut through the silence, resting a gentle palm on your back as he guided you to sit up on the bed, the covers still over half your body.

You had passed out after standing up from the table, and thankfully, Bruce had been there to hold you before you could touch the floor.

It was nothing new, really. Since you two met you told him about your fibromyalgia and other conditions, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t worry like hell about you everytime something like this happened. Didn’t mean that his heart didn’t race when he noticed you feeling lightheaded.

“Drink this,” he handed you a glass of water with his free hand, the other rubbing small circles on your back. “Take your time. Any pain?” He asked.