Bruce refused to attend another funeral of his children.

He simply refused to even consider it a possibility, but yet it had happened, and tonight it might, again. Batman had called in everyone who he thought that their powers could help. The rescuers were doing their best, removing massive chunks of concrete of the collapsed tower, carefully not to make the unstable structure go down further and crushed you completely. He hadn't felt this helpless before, being a normal human, having to stay out of the way and put his hope on someone else.

"Stay awake darling, help is coming, dad's coming."

The comm was the only proof that you were still alive under the rubble after Superman had confirmed your condition. Batman didn't stand a chance when the father in him took over, the need to comfort his child coming in stronger than any force he had ever faced.

The father prayed with every god and deity out there to save his little world. But would it be enough, when you were bleeding out, life slipping away by seconds.

"Talk to me sweetheart, talk to me."

The family was a mess, arguing and loosing their mind over the general channel. Not like you could hear them, Oracle made sure of that. They needed you to be calm, and having ten plus panic people in your ear wouldn't do it.