Bruce sighed as you stepped out the bathroom, definitely a little tired, judging off of the fact you clearly hadn’t bothered to dry your hair, as it was still soaking wet, little droplets falling onto your shoulders and the floor.

“You feelin’ any better, kid?” he’d gruffly ask as you already began dragging yourself back to your bedroom, where some soup Alfred had cooked up for your earlier would be.

…You… you hadn’t been doing too well, at all today. Woke up feeling terrible, and had already vomited several times today and complaining of cramps. Bruce even came home early in patrol for the first time ever, to check up on you after Alfred grew more concerned.