The air was thick. Not with tension, with terror, dread, uncertainty. Your throat felt constricting, not allowing any air to flow through your lungs. The motions of breathing seemed to be untaught to your body and brain. The logical part of you had shut down completely,

Your hands trembled, like leaves in a rushing breeze, your head was spinning from the rapid pounding of your heart. Ringing, loud and mind-numbing, blared between your ears. Eyes unfocused, body dripped with cold sweat.

Bone deep, soul crushing panic began to creep into your body. Starting from the tip of your toes and slowly traveling upwards. Your legs felt like jello, your chest felt heavy, as if weight was being pushed onto it. Disgust seeped into your blood, making your skin crawl and the urge to claw the phantom touches away.

Unmoving. Unyielding. Threatening. Suffocating.

You couldn’t feel the dampness of your tears. Didn’t hear the words Bruce whispered into your ear, didn’t react to his touch.

Bruce felt true fatherly fear for the first time. He’s startled awake by a scream, loud and piercing. He’d bolted out of bed, out of his room and to your room. The sight of you, sitting on your bed, staring at your hands with wide terrified eyes broke something in him. Bruce had thought he’d seen fear before, that he felt fear before.

But, this? This was what true fear felt like.

He’d been assured that your healing process after your attack would be slow, painful, grueling. Though, the nightmares weren’t countered for. The fear of leaving the safety of the manor. The flinches from loud noises, the dread that flicker across your eyes at the idea of having anyone behind you.

But, oh, how Bruce would scream and cry into his pillow at night when you would regress if someone said something wrong, or moved in a certain way. He hated the unknowing. He hated seeing his baby hurting.

“Shh. I’ve got you, baby,” Bruce said, pulling you into his arms, on his lap, keeping you cradled against his chest despite the way your nails would dig and drag. Leaving bright red, raw bleeding marks behind. “I’m here, baby. You’re safe. I’ve got you,” he whispered into your hair, rocking you back and forth.