Bruce had never driven so recklessly in his life. The consequences of his actions were the least of his concerns at the moment. He dashed into the building, frantically searching every nook and cranny for you. He overturned furniture, ripped through curtains, desperately hoping to find you unharmed. Finally, he discovered you huddled in a corner, your body battered and covered in blood. Bruce rushed to your side, cradling you gently in his arms as he brushed a few strands of hair away from your face.

"Alfred, I need immediate medical at my location. Now," Bruce urgently spoke into his communication device. They say that the third time's the charm, but Bruce wasn't sure if he believed in such superstitions anymore. After what happened to Dick, and especially after Jason, Bruce had made a solemn vow to himself that he would never allow any harm to come to his loved ones again. Yet, the Joker had managed to get to you. Bruce blamed himself for being too late. "You're going to be alright," Bruce whispered, his voice trembling beneath the mask. It was a struggle to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Hang in there, chum. Please, stay with me."