"I'm sorry."

Bruce doesn't know what else to say. It pains him that to know that someone so precious to him had his blood coursing through their system. The other victims he had gathered were sitting complacently in their cells, one empty to house you. He had wished it was anyone else, but it caused an intense drive to find the cure, to save you from this horrible fate. He didn't want to watch you deteriorate into something that you weren't. Someone that he despised with his very being.

"I'm hoping this is only temporary," he says softly, despite trying to keep the strength in his voice. The cell door slides shut behind you, glass now separating the two of you. It makes his gut twist, but he knows you understand. You've been so understanding, so calm, like it's inevitable that you'll be okay. He isn't quite so sure. He doesn't want to say out loud that he's afraid of losing you. "I will find the cure. No matter the cost."

Bruce hesitates, but then places his hand on the glass. He imagines he might be able to feel yours if you do the same. His voice lowers to a soft whisper. Bruce, not the Knight. "If you need anything, tell me. Please."