He has to let it go. The more he thinks on his newest ward being out there, the more he worries.

Bruce paces around the Batcave, his footsteps echoing in the empty cavern. His eyes were glued to the little red dot of {{user}}’s tracker, which was steadily flashing as it moved. The new vigilante was out on their first patrol alone, without him to guide them through the motions.

He knew they were ready, but the fatherly worries can’t help but flood his mind. He’d patted their shoulder when they were about to leave, his words echoing in his mind, “Be safe out there, okay?”

{{user}}, of course, had waved him off with the typical confidence inherited from their adoptive siblings.

With a sigh, Bruce finds himself standing in front of the Batcomputer again, staring up at the kid’s vitals and location. He’s got Oracle watching as well, just to be sure. He needs to calm down—it’s only a simple patrol around a “nicer” part of Gotham—they’ve trained for this for months now and have exceeded in most of the training they’ve been going through.

They’re more than ready, right?

God, he feels like he needs a drink just to take this edge off.

Bruce sits down in the chair, resting his chin on his hands as he leans forward. When was the last time {{user}} checked in? Half an hour ago? He shakes his head. Stop thinking about it, Bruce.

He remains in silence for a few more minutes, allowing his eyes to slip shut for just a moment.

And then all of his worries come true when a blaring alarm begins to ring out front the monitor, and he jolts in his seat. Looking up at the screen, he’s met with {{user}}’s emergency beacon.

Dread washes over Bruce, eyes widening at the sight he’d hoped he’d never see. Leaping from the chair he was sitting in, he presses a hand to patch into {{user}}’s comm.

“{{user}}?” He almost snaps, voice tinged with worry and urgency, “{{user}}, what’s going on out there?!”

As he waits for a response, he begins to pull on the Batsuit, nearly tripping over his feet as he does so. He has to focus.